Meltdown Invitational Royal Rumble RP Thread

[T-Marv]

Action Packed Wrestling PRESENTS:

THE MELTDOWN INVITATIONAL RUMBLE
Monday March 18th 8:00pm EST from The Rodgers Center in Toronto, On Canada!

This will be an over the top battle royal that begins with two athletes in the ring. Every 90 seconds, another entrant will come down to the ring untill all combatants have entered. At that point, the last person standing will BE VICTORIOUS

The Rules:

1. Deadline will be Monday March 18th at 11:59PM!
2. There is a 5,000 word rp limit. HOWEVER these words can be reached by any number of rps. If you want to write one... have at it. If you want to spread it out over 5... be my guest. But only the first 5k words written will be counted.
3. There will be 30 people in this Match. I will leave some spots open for people who want to join last second, and others will be surprise entrants.
4. This will be the ONLY place you put roleplays.
5. Roleplays will be titled as such (the first line in the RP should be this) "{CharacterName} Roleplay #{Insert RP number here}"
6. Entry order will be determined by random!
7. HAVE FUN! There is a massive prize on the line yes... but this event should be for more than that. It should be for fun, and to push yourselves to the absolute limit.

The Prizes:
If you are on Meltdown:
- You will be drafted to the show of your choice
- If you are drafted to Overdrive, you will recieve a Title shot on the next show.
- If you are drafted to Asylum.... I don't know yet.

If you are on Overdrive:
- You will recieve a Title shot at a time of the New GM's choising.

If you are on Asylum:
-

The Entrants
(in no specific order)
1. Leon Roberts
2. Stefan Raab
3. Trevor Hyatt
4. Cid Phoenix
5. Megan Andrews
6. Johnny Rebel
7. The GI
8. Kevin Dalhia.
9. Tommy Knoxville
10. Jake Titan
11. Guvnah
12. Mr. Dangerous
13. Warren Peace
14. Jason Kash
15. Gooch
16. Amy Zing
17. Pat Stay
18. Annonymous
19. Delikado
20. Level One
21. Stefan Raab
22. Young Mannie
23. Niobe Martin
24. Zeke Stokely
25. Special Guest from APW past
26. Another Special Guest from APW Past
27.
28.
29.
30.

Have fun and let the Role playing BEGIN!

(as always, if there are any questions, PM me)

[Buckson Gooch]

Buckson Gooch - Roleplay: Tour de Rasslemania IX #1

[/center]
---------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting at the table, eating lunch, Buckson Gooch just put the final touches on a big turkey sandwhich that Annabelle crafted for him. The stifled belch, in some countries, would be a “good meal”, but that is a response that Annabelle wants to her verbally and not due to body functions. Annabelle plops a large manilla envelope on the table. Buck tears the top of the envelope open and pours the contents on the table.

A stack of plane tickets, itineraries, hotel reservations, and an unopened envelope fall on the table. Buck goes for the unopened envelope and opens it up.

“Dear Buckson Gooch,

You have been selected by APW management to go on a 6 day tour promoting Rasslemania IX.

Thank you for your contributions to this company. The tickets are non-refundable and will cause you to leave tonight so you can make it to your destination tomorrow. On some of the stops you will be there with other APW Megastars.

We know you will be on your best behavior during these trips. Thank you for your efforts as an APW Megastar,

The Office of APW”

Buck stares at the letter a little bit and reads it a second time.

Annabelle Gooch: What does it say?

Buckson Gooch: Well, it looks like I’m going to be on the road for the next week. I have to do some publicity stuff for Rasslemania IX.

Annabelle Gooch: It looks like you don’t have any choice. How are you going to train for your matches?

Buckson Gooch: I’ll find a way. These cities are big. I’m sure there are places I can go train... or I can get creative.

Annabelle leans down and kisses Buck on the cheek.

Buckson Gooch: Some might view this as a negative, but I’ll view it as a positive. I’m sure there will be some great lessons to be learned... much like the Battle Royal, I don’t have a choice to when I come in or who comes in after me... or even who throws the first punch. The only thing I have control of is doing the best at what I can. These flights and such are out of my control... but I’m going to go out and do the best job I can.

Buck wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his thermal long johns and drinks down the remains of the large glass of sweet tea that Annabelle had set out for him.

Annabelle Gooch: So where do you have to go?

Buck grabs the list and looks it over.

Buckson Gooch: It looks like I’ll be going to Buffalo, NY... Philadelphia, PA... New York City... Washington, D.C... Montreal... and Toronto... Then we have Rasslemania.

Annabelle Gooch: So you won’t be home at all?

Buckson Gooch: I’m not sure, we might be able to make something work.

Quietly dejected, Annabelle leaves the room. Buck doesn’t recognize that she’s left and sits there reading over everything again. He folds everything back into the large manilla envelope, folds it over, and puts it in the front pocket on his overalls. Annabelle reenters the room with a dufflebag full of clothes.

Buckson Gooch: What do I need that for?

Annabelle Gooch: You are not going to go a week without changing your underwear, long johns, or overalls. Take this with you. You should be fine.

Buck gets up and kisses Annabelle. They hug.

Buckson Gooch: I’ll be okay, Annabelle. I’ll give my best. I may come back as the winner of the battle royal, half of the tag champs, and the Xtreme Title... but I know you’ll be proud of me if I do my best.


Annabelle smiles warmly, but a tear escapes her left eye. Buck wipes it away and kisses her on the forehead and opens the front door. He takes a deep breath and walks out... ready for the journey known as the Road to Rasslemania IX.

[Buckson Gooch]

Buckson Gooch: Tour De Rasslemania IX #2
Sunday, March 10, 2013, Buffalo, NY

-------------------------------------------

Having Jimmy with him is making travel much easier for Buckson Gooch. Jimmy is using his smart phone to sign in, tells Buck what they need to do, where they need to go, and when they need to be there. Jimmy pointed out to his Dad (and called his Mom) to let her know that Buck read the paper wrong. He does have a 6 day tour, but will have plenty of time to train. Another thing that has worked out in their favor is that “Bogus 102.3” is going to take them from the airport to the radio station via limosuine. The look of disgust on the face of the driver was attemptedly masked, but a mission of failure. Gooch realized this, as he’s grown accustomed to looks like this and thanked the man for his kind service. The driver seemed to lighten up some, but his face still held in the form of a guy who just smelled a fart.

The limo pulls up to a giant complex that apparently holds many different radio stations and Jimmy and Buck are quickly ushered in. The staff is accommodating to Jimmy, seeing as they weren’t expecting him.

Sexy Jason: Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood Morning everyone! We’re glad to have with us in our studio APW Megastar Buckson Gooch...Gooch. Okay Buckson, is Gooch really your last name?

Buckson Gooch: Yes, it is. I come from a long line of Gooch’s.

Sexy Jason: Were the Gooch’s stinky? Are you a stinky Gooch?

Buckson Gooch: I dunno.

Buck smells his armpit.

Buckson Gooch: I guess a little bit.

Jason laughs and changes the cards he has on his desk. Buck doesn't get the line of questions...

Buck doesn't understand the sound effect, but is still into the interview.

Sexy Jason: So, March 24th, Toronto, Ontario, Canada...Rasslemania IX. Are you excited?

Buckson Gooch: Definately! It’s a big deal. It’s a very big deal. We have some great match-ups that are sure to make for the greatest Rasslemania in History. You’ve gotta tune in this year. We have TMarv, C.J. Gates, Evan Envi, Mark Mania, Delikado, A.C. Smith, Michael Lively, Level-One, The Natural Born Thrillaz, Stefan Raab, Tommy Knoxville...the list could go on and on. We have the best talent in the world here in APW.

Sexy Jason: Who are you facing at Rasslemania?

Buckson Gooch: Well that’s tricky. I’m for sure going to be in a triangle match with Michael Lively and A.C. Smith for the XTreme title. That’s going to be my most difficult match to date. Depending on tomorrow night’s match, I may be teaming with Tommy Knoxville and going for the #1 contendership for the tag team titles.

Sexy Jason: Sounds great, I know I’ll be purchasing the PPV.

Jason shifts through his cards again.

Sexy Jason: Well, it looks like we have a few more minutes. What do you have coming up?

Buckson Gooch: On Monday night, March 18th, is the Meltdown Invitational Rumble.

Sexy Jason: Tell the listeners more about that.

Buckson Gooch: We’ll have 30 APW MegaStars going at it in an over the top rope brawl. The match starts with two competitors and every 90 seconds another MegaStar enters.

Sexy Jason: Sounds dangerous, what do you think your odds are?

Buckson Gooch: I feel my odds are good. I’m still embarrassed about how I performed at Survive and Conquer, I want this to be my retribution and we have 30 top notch talents for me to face off with. Level-One, Delikado, Stefan Raab, Young Mannie, Niobe Martin, The Natural Born Killaz, Warren Peace, Amy Zing, Jason Kash...the list goes on and on.

Sexy Jason: Wow, that is a power packed group.

Buckson Gooch: All I can do is my best. I’m going to have to be quick on my feet, use my strength to my advantage. The winner gets a great prize and the eyes of the wrestling world will be on this Rumble and for Rasslemania.

Sexy Jason: Who are you most worried about?

Buckson Gooch: That's not a fair question. APW only accepts the top talent in the world. Everyone in this match has something to prove and something to provide APW. Level-One is an extremely decorated and tough wrestler. Stefan Raab is a legit tough guy, Kevin Dhalia is quick as a cat, and I'm sure Delikado has something up his sleeve for this match. It's hard to build a strategy when the luck of the draw plays as much of a role as the people you are in the ring with and who the fresh man or woman is. The only thing I can do is be the best Buckson Gooch I can be.

Sexy Jason: Great answer!...That’ll do it for our time! Thanks for coming Buckson Gooch. And now...commercials!!!!!

The camera fades out as Buck shakes hands with the zany radio show host.

[Jules]

(OOC: Since this one is essentially a freebie for me, I'm going to do something different to my usual 'MADE IN HACKNEY' series.)

The scene opens inside what has the look and feel of a studio. It’s pretty basic stuff: a solitary chair facing the camera we are viewing the scene through with a generic backdrop displaying the Meltdown insignia and a ‘Invitational Rumble’ legend stamped across. Into the scene steps The Guv’nor, looking surprisingly smart in a black pinstripe suit and maroon shirt.

Guvnor: “Welcome to the show ladies and gents. In case you’re not keeping up here my name is ‘The Guv’nor’ and I am your host for this series of special webcasts. If you’re watching this you must be aware that next week Meltdown hosts its first ever ‘Invitational Rumble’. It doesn’t surprise me that the freshly unemployed Alexander Duvall tried to steal some of the Rasslemania glory for himself, ahead of time, but when there’s prizes to be won and faces to be smashed, who am I to argue?

Guv’nor expresses his best congenial face.

Guvnor: So in preparation for this prestigious event I thought I would lay down a few words for what I will call...

The Guv’nor’s Guide to Surviving the Meltdown Invitational.

It’s a five-part series focussing on five specific tips to aid all travellers in their quest. Why such generosity, Guv? I hear you ask. Well, in these times of hardship charity is needed more than ever, and when you consider the other twenty-odd pour souls in this match are going to have to face up to this (pointing to himself) ‘orrible bastard, them mugs are going to need all the help they can get.

The scene fades out to a title screen that reads.

The Guv’nor’s Guide to Surviving the Meltdown Invitational
Lesson 1: Don’t Trust Anyone (i.e. Be Wary of Slags)

The scene fades back into the studio; The Guv’nor is now sat on the solitary chair.

Guvnor: It goes without saying to mention that everyone is on their own in this one, but that home truth still don’t prevent some slags from trying to rump a few poor mugs into thinking otherwise. That’s why at all times you got to keep that wise old hat on your head and don’t let anyone deter you from that mode of thinking. People tend to ignore clichés because they’re hackneyed sayings and whatnot, and that’s probably why so many mugs ignore the most simples truths in this life and make right fucking idiots of themselves. So keep your vigil and remember this one is definitely a solitary quest.

As I see it there are two types of slags you have to be mindful on this kind of match. First is what I call ‘temporary alliances’, the second are the filth I call ‘lurkers’.

Now the temporary alliances is a type of slag I can at least tolerate. This is the sort that thinks the best mode of survival is in numbers. Of course, it’s some strange kind of double-think that has to take place here because I ain’t never found a rumble match that awarded two winners. By very nature the match there is only one winner, so it’s every man (or woman) for themselves.

Of course, this lot use the logic of working together to eliminate the field until they are the last two in the match, then them slags get to have a tear up to see who is best. We saw how C.J. Gates and Sally Talfourd did that in the Survive & Conquer match to try and eliminate Terry Marvin – and look how that turned out!

But what you got to square away with yourself is whether you want to work with someone who you cannot be sure won’t try and take a liberty with you at the first possible opportunity. These rumbles are as mad as a box of frogs at the best of times, so to have to worry about whether some slag who is supposed to be watching your back is simply a burden too far in my eyes.

The lesson is: if someone approaches you with such a proposal, give ‘em a slap on the chin and tell that mug to piss off. You’re on your own in this one, and that’s how it should be.

The Guv’nor takes a momentary pause.

Guvnor: The next type of no-good bastard to be especially vigilant of is ‘the lurker’. We all know and have seen these miserable sods: they hang about in one of the corners while everyone around them has a right good tear up; or they feign an injury to try and catch a breather or lay low; some of them even have the rotten slaggyness to stand outside the ring or take up a position on commentary.

They wait until everyone has exhausted themselves, then they try to feed on the scraps. Of course these rotten bastards tell the world how smart they are, but they are simply the vermin of the wrestling world in my eyes. They haven’t got the bottle to take on the world face to face, so instead they lurk in the shadows, and skulk around like a filthy diseased-ridden rat looking to survive on scraps. You see any of this type of slag, you mark their cards then kick their teeth down their throat with your boots.

Winning a rumble is all about graft, and there are no short-cuts. The way I see it is that I’m faced with twenty-something con-men (or women) who are trying to sell me a long steaming turd as though it were a luscious bar of gold. They are all liars, everyone one them, trying to sell a fabrication that cannot be anything but fiction. There are no alliances that can be formed and mean anything other than the lying prick you teamed with is looking to make a right mug of you. There is no free ride for anyone, and if you see anyone lurking you take that slag, slam his face against the nearest hard surface as often you like and you toss them over the top rope because slags like that don’t deserve the time of day.

You’re on your own sunshine, and if you ain’t got the cobblers for that, then you’re going over the top rope.

I’ve been The Guvnor, this has been a MADE IN HACKNEY PRODUCTION, and you lot can now PISS OFF!

The scene fades as the webcast comes to an end.

[Jason Cashe]

Jason Kash - Roleplay:

[/u] First Person Addiction RP #1[/center]

My name is Jason Kash...and I'm an Addict!

Multiple People: Hello Jason! Welcome!

Standing up there I wasn't sure if this would even help. Addiction Classes seemed to be for quitters. Would it help me think differently, see things more clearly. Who knows. I stood there and seen all those people sitting in chairs, staring at me like I was the center of attention. I've felt this before. People watching me, wanting to know what I'll say or do next. It made me wonder just how much they really listened to other people's stories. I guess we'll find out..

Jason Kash: I've been addicted going on almost 3 years now. It's a craving really, started as one anyways. I remember when it hit me when I was fiending for a fix. I was suspended from work at the time and I wanted to punch some stranger. I literally wanted to punch another human being because of an inching addiction. It was bad!

Looking at these people, maybe 4 of them were watching me. Figures. Their addicted to drugs, alcohol, and probably blow jobs. I hear you can get addicted to that, it's what the stripper told me. That fat guy in the back is digging for gold deep in his nose cave. This is pointless, I need to grab their attention. Say something that stands out. I need to make them addicted to my words.

Jason Kash: This addiction wasn't to any drug on the streets. It wasn't an addiction to any alcoholic beverage...

NOW people look up at me, NOW they pay attention. Wanting to know about a new addiction, one that could be a new thrill ride, a new high for them all. You can see the drool building on a few of their lips right now. This is disgusting and people think I'm a junkie? I needed to make this clear, do this right and get my point across.

Jason Kash: This addiction was to Action! It feeds on the wants and desires of others, who they are inside and breaks down the walls to grab at your weaknesses. I've been Addicted to Action for a while but Addiction comes in various forms. There is an addiction in us all and to find that addiction, to FEEL that addiction...That brings your world to peace! When I step out from the back and those fans boo or cheer it pumps into my veins like a needle filled with the most lethal drugs out there. I hunger for that addiction, the ability to take someone out, take away their wants and desires, breaking down THEIR walls and taking hold of their weakness...AGGHHHH!!

They get it, they've felt this feeling I feel right now. I can see it in their red glazed, baggy eyed eyes that they understand this emotion. One woman is rubbing her hands together, wanting that very feeling again. Craving it seems to be addicting as others begin showing signs of wanting their addiction to be remedied.

Jason Kash: I don't feel held back because of my addiction, I feel stronger by it. Like I'm a super human with super powers and nothing is too much! Knowing that it can break some men, most women. I know that it hasn't broken me. I know now that I've taken the reigns of this addiction and have found a means for it, a purpose. With this my goals, my accomplishments will surpass my expectations. I'm "The Addicted" and I hereby welcome it!!!

Entire Crowd of Addicts: YEAAAAH!!!

Single Guy in the Crowd: Cocaine is a Hell of a Drug!

I didn't expect a round of applause. I just stepped off the stage, filled with my own satisfaction and to my surprise, these people stood up and cheered for my words. Not understanding their true meaning but appreciating the words of wisdom. One of the Directors of the Class move quickly to the front of the room, probably wanting to calm people down and keep them from rioting the streets for a fix. I didn't care, their addictions weren't my worry, my own addiction was and that addiction had a fix and I was to be prepared for that.

A cold breeze hits me and my balls crawl up inside themselves as I step outside the building. Hugging myself doesn't help and I talked myself into thinking I didn't need a jacket. Sweaters were out of question, squares wore sweaters and I preferred the cold. My mistake. Still I had things to say. Not to a bunch of junkies but to people who might have questions about why I've entered a Invitational Rumble. Why RassleMania and Shane Borderland weren't enough to have to focus on but why I added more to the plate. I had an answer, more than one..

Jason Kash: I've been addicted to Action Packed for a good while now, anyone who knows me knows I'm an APW whore willing to give it my all at any given time. Yet not another man has done what I've accomplished have they? Michael Lively was the first Grand Slam but since then retired and has only come back and done next to nothing since his return. I've come close to overlapping my own success! Who else has done Grand Slam and is close to being Double Grand? Nobody? Well then why would I enter a Rumble match where the winner most likely gets a shot at the World Title or Undisputed, show pending of course!

I miss the top. I miss seeing and feeling the eyes of an entire roster on my actions. See in this company, Action is the only tool that matters. If you aren't putting yourself out there, grabbing people's attention then you haven't done shit. I'm not going out there to entertain myself, that'd just be RUDE! No I've continued to entertain the masses and for what when none of them cheer for me much these days..Yet I remember the time when the entire WORLD went Bobble Head as my music played and I stepped out from the back. They loved me, THEY REALLY LOVED ME! But now? Now they don't want to see me shine, they don't want to see how far I'll go because they KNOW I'll go to the very end of the world to see my plans and goals achieved.

A warmth fills my insides. I wonder if it's due to understanding my addiction or that I was able to reveal it to others. Wanting to take care of shit, make shit happen. Beat Anthony Bailey, become Double Grand, added to the Hall Of Fame but that takes stepping away and to step away is to admit my time being up and as I stand here in the cold, I can feel that the "end" is far from being here. Now where did I park? Oh there it is, why don't I remember parking there? My ass cheek itches, is there anyone looking? Nope..Aghhh that feels amazing! It's cold, I need to run the heater for a minute...

Jason Kash: This match, this Rumble will bring a lot of fixes, a lot of smooth cold feeling to the needle in my veins. I will put people over the ropes and to the outside, I will watch their eyes as they look back at me and realize it was I who took pleasure in their dismissal. So Why the Interest? Because it's not what they WANT...It's what they hope doesn't happen and THAT interests me..Call it an Addiction...heh. People like Johnny Rebel. People like Young Mannie. ANY of the surprise entries because they wouldn't be a surprise and not be someone big named. I am Addicted to see their failures in this match. To accomplish what I COULD have done in Survive & Conquer, I make THIS that moment for me. I've watched guys like Rebel jump in and out of the ring, switch brands, become a General Manager and throughout it all he has seen a glass ceiling so now he wants to change his future?

Now he wants to cash in on a Rumble that could give him a quick shot at a belt he's YET to achieve and earn on his own accord? Not on my time. There is a reason he quit stepping IN the ring and started working behind a desk, it's because like he failed as a member of The Sindicate, he's failed at getting to that BIG TOP SPOT on any roster in APW. Haha..He figured he couldn't do it on Overdrive so he came to Asylum and what happened? Haha..The same thing that happened with Sally Talfourd her first YEAR on this show. He failed to achieve that top prize where as she found success only when I stepped away from that picture. FACT.

It's not just Johnny Rebel, people like Young Mannie who has been pink eye to this business since I've been here. He has made false claims about him being this "Main Attraction" when he's only seen a few lucky breaks. I mean look at the facts he loses the North American Title so fast, a year from now people will forget he ever was a Champion to begin with. He beat Phil Atken though! Wow..The guy was clearly on his last leg as proof with his World Title loss on Asylum. Only weeks from RassleMania and he falls flat on his face not one show but two shows in a row and Mannie can take pride in beating that man? Pathetic! Just as the claims of him beating me have been made. It was Kingston who won YOU Tag Titles Mannie and you lost them first time out. Another lesson that comes as FACT.

It's getting all cozy in here now. I love that new car smell in these rentals. Gives me something to remove, to change. School must be letting out, that's the second school bus to pass here full of kids. What time is it? Fuck I wish I could smoke a spliff, get right and easy. No that would break all the growth I've had, moving on from the weed was the second best thing I've done for my career. I can work so much longer without losing breath now. I owe that to the removal of tar being added to my lungs so why ruin a good thing? I sure do miss it, yup I was surely addicted to that green. Now it's been replaced with Action. Something that can only make things better from here on..

Jason Kash: The thing with Rebel, Mannie, even my good old friend Tommy Knoxville is that most of the people in this Rumble suffer from an Addiction. Wanting to be at the top, wanting that shot of venom in your veins so you can feel it's high! None of you can deny wanting this, craving this. Seeing yourselves standing alone inside that ring and being declared victor! Can you feel it, can you SEE it when you close your eyes? BAM! In that very moment to vision it, I swoop in and make sure it doesn't happen. I slap the needle from your arm BEFORE it gets plunged into your veins. I dangle the bag that is victory in front of your face as you pick yourself up outside the ring. Me. Not Level One, not Delikado, those Overdrive boys are in for a bright light, a blinding light and as that light fades and their vision comes back clear...I am the figure standing tall, standing ALONE in this match. Damn, my flow is Off The Wall like Patients at an Insane Asylum! Haha!

Addiction. The Addicted. Tommy Knoxville is one addiction, one gambling debt, one sniff of booger sugar away from being a disappearing trick again. Any and all of these newer names to APW like Niobe, Robina, Dalhia, all of them pose the same issues in that nobody really knows them. That or they've been overlooked yet again and well isn't that surprising? Haha. I wonder how much they hurt to be accepted, ache to find their strides and make something of themselves. That too is an addiction and as the world is filled with them. I am one of the few who have taken their addiction and made it into a strength. I've done that, not anyone else on this roster of names entering this match. Can you overcome this addiction and turn it into success because I can and have repeatedly over the time I've been in this promotion. I don't take breaks, I don't have days off. I sit slap boxing the empty air in front of me because I'm ALWAYS ready to lay down bodies and this list of names gave me a check list I plan on marking off as I go.

Oh ow! Itch, why am I itching? This goddamn addiction has me itching, or this car..Oh yeah..right in that skin. That patch of skin where the balls meet the asshole. That's the spot...oh hey!!

Jason Kash: GOOCH! Funny name, I just scratched you! Haha Tag Team partner to Tommy Knoxville, I'm promoting him just saying his name and know Gooch that Knoxville would drop you from behind if I called and said he could step up and have my back, be my partner again. I've got that because of the Influence I have been since day fucking one! Gooch, we sons of the South. Nobody can take that from us but outside of that my Country bred friend, you come from Arkansas which is the home to Wal-Mart and Fucking your Sister or First Cousin.

That's your legacy to change but know that the change doesn't come so quickly for everyone. You took losing at the ViW Clash of The Titans pretty hard and well you should have. Losing sucks don't it? But a loss is a loss and if anything you've gained a lesson there. You've grown from that loss much like you will do in this one. See Gooch we might share the same Rebel Flag in our backgrounds but push comes to shove and I'm dumping your ass over the ropes. Plain and Simple. I'll pull you so hard by your overalls that the wedgie you get will need Medical Attention. Country Strong, Hillbilly Dumb.

I Guarantee you who come to see me, come across Defeat in this match. Be it friends of old or new or even recent Tag Partners like The Govnor! I know we had a moment where we were all there was to trust going into a Tag Match but this isn't about aligning ourselves, like you said temporary alliances will be slapped to the chin but hit me in my chin and you shall feel the ring side floor mats. Survive if you can was the line dropped years ago and it stays true for this match. Junkies will kill, sell their children, sell their most valuable objects in order to find their fix.

I'm giving all my blood, all my sweat and tears to tear through whatever form of competition steps in and takes their chances with these clinched fists held out before me. I'll leave folks shaking like they doing the harlem shake at ring side as the referee signals they've been eliminated. Annonomous or known to the world, secret entries don't mean SHIT to me because in a rush of danger you either act or react and one of these decisions ends with your defeat. So it don't matter the name, the game, or the outfit you're wearing, I'm looking for the end of the tunnel, the finish that I crave....

The growl of the engine gives me a chill as I put my foot on the pedal and give it a little gas. The vibration of this new model Mustang. Not my first choice of a ride but it'll have to do. At least it's warm. At least I know where and when my next fix will come from...

[Buckson Gooch]

Buckson Gooch: Tour De Rasslemania IX #3
Monday, March 11, 2013, Philadelphia, PA
-------------------------------------------------------

As Buck and Jimmy make their way off the plane they run into a familiar face.

The Bawse

Delikado. Carrying two large suitcases in his hands, the Cuban gleefully runs up and hugs both of the guys around the neck like they are long lost friends. He nearly knocks over three pedestrians and clocks a small child in the head as he swings his luggage about carelessly.

Boss Delikado: Jimmy! And Jimmy’s Dad! Here, hold Delikado’s bags…

He promptly hands the suitcases to Buckson and Jimmy, who briefly exchange looks like “Weren’t WE the ones who just got off the plane…?” before they shrug it off.

Buckson Gooch: It’s good to see you, too. Why are you in Philly?

Boss Delikado: Oh, some radio interview thing, not to mention signing crap FOR THE CHILDREN. It’s mandatory Delikado does it once in a blue moon. Freaking contracts and court-ordered community service! Pretty sure it’s the same shtick you got roped into.

Buckson Gooch: That’s cool. Glad I’ll have some good compa...

Jimmy Gooch: I finished Machiavelli’s “The Prince!” Thank you for letting me borrow it!

Jimmy reaches in his bag and pulls out the book and hands it to Delikado. Delikado takes it and pulls another book out of his coat and hands it to Jimmy who slides it in his bag. Deli then rubs his hair through Jimmy’s hair.

Boss Delikado: That’s my boy! Now Delikado don’t gotta read it, he can just use you as his own personal Cliffnotes.com for all the answers. Ahh, parenting. Heheheheheheheh!

Jimmy Gooch: It’s more interesting than anything I’m reading in school.

Delikado pulls out a cigar and lights it, even as they pass the ‘NO SMOKING’ sign of the airport.

Boss Delikado: Speaking of which, shouldn’t you, like, BE there? After all, they say a mind is a terrible thing when you get wasted, Jimmy…or something along those lines. Can’t remember, they didn’t have schools in Cuba when Delikado was there. Or ANYTHING for that matter.

Jimmy looks up and sees the temperature for outside...33 degrees. Delikado’s three layers of coats look very warm...Jimmy’s looks very warm...Gooch is not wearing a jacket. The Cuban chomps down onto his cigar.

Boss Delikado: You ever gone someplace and realized you left something behind? Well I ain’t, but you clearly have with your lack of proper clothes. Here, Goochie, Delikado brought you a coat as a welcoming gift. Proper gift-giving guidelines dictate you wear it, which means you better love it more than your own child, or I’ll do something TERRIBLE…

Buck nods that he will wear the jacket and Delikado drops one of his bags and pulls out a giant, red, fox fur coat. The Cuban notices an eyeball on it and peels it off quickly before handing the coat off to Gooch.

Boss Delikado: Delikado had a feeling you’d show up all lacking of clothes. Whatever, redneck tradition I guess, can’t fault ya. Anyway, brought you this just to be safe. Call it women’s intuition.

Jimmy Gooch: But you’re a guy…

Boss Delikado: Call me the first guy with women’s intuition then!

Buckson Gooch: Thank you, sir.

Buck puts on the coat. He looks it over and wonders how many foxes died so this coat could be made. He buttons it up. It looks remarkably nice except for his matted down hair, the bottom of his frayed overalls and his scuffed up boots.

Big Daddy Glenn: Good morning all you Buffalo-ites tuning in to 103.3 The Blurp! This morning we have on our show two MegaStars from APW. Buckson Gooch...

Buckson Gooch: Good mornin’!

Big Daddy Glenn: ...and Delikado.

Boss Delikado: WHERE?! He owes Delikado money! Heh-heh, just kidding, I’m too awesome to not know me.

Big Daddy Glenn: Buckson Gooch, seems you have a plateful for Rasslemania time...The Battle Royal, The Xtreme title match, and potentially the tag title match. How do you prepare for that?

Buckson Gooch: That’s easy...I go on a 6 day tour of cities and promote Rasslemania.

Big Daddy Glenn laughs.

Boss Delikado: Then he’s gonna get drunk, storm the gates of the Rogers Center and <BEEP> some <BEEP> the <BEEP> up! NEW XTREME CHAMPION RIGHT HERE! “Sooeeeeeeey pig pig pig pig!” …..That’s Delikado’s impression of what Gooch is gonna do…to people. Not, uh, not piglets. Wait, what are we talking about again?

Delikado, almost randomly, suddenly holds up a sleeping baby pig and strokes the top of its head soothingly. Buck laughs heartily.

Buckson Gooch: In all seriousness, though, I’ll find a way to train each day. I have the opportunity to pick the brains of some of the best talent in the world, like Delikado here. I may have a full plate, but I’m going to do my best. I feel that Tommy Knoxville and I are clicking as a team, I feel like I have a good shot against A.C. Smith and Michael Lively for the XTreme title, and I feel like I’ll turn some heads in the Invitational Battle Royal.

Big Daddy Glenn: At Rasslemania what do you have going on...

Boss Delikado: Well not to delve into “SPOILERS” territory, Glenn, but yours truly—that’s me--has got in…wait for it…waaait…wa--CREDIBLE things planned for the big show. Delikado’s in the same Battle Royal Goochie was talking ‘bout, then there’s me welcoming the people with Delikado’s cleaning up of the remnants of Dan White and Legion; after that there’s the final battle between me and that crook Shane West…that’ll be one you won’t want to miss…and rest assured, there’s gonna be a hell of a lot more Da Bawse is gonna be bringing. You can go ahead and call it the best Pay-Per-View in the history of Pay-Per-Views if you like, because it will be. Nobody’s gonna out-swagger my Rasslemania-swagger. FACT!

Gooch: Boss Delikado is one of the most interesting and dangerous men in APW. You always have to keep your head on a swivel with this guy. He's one of the reasons that APW was voted as the top fed in the wrestling world...and he gave me this awesome fox coat! Thanks! I could get used to this!

Big Daddy Glenn: You guys are a hot mess. We’re glad to have you hear this morning. Anything else you want to add?

Buckson Gooch: Be sure to watch Rasslemania IX on PPV...or find some scalped tickets and come see us...Sunday, March 24th...

Boss Delikado: Tell ‘em what’s what, Goochie! Now where’re the girls? Let’s get that wet t-shirt contest started!

Big Daddy Glenn: There IS no wet t-shirt contest, Delikado...

Boss Delikado: WHAT?! No wet ta-tas?! On whose authority that I reject?!

Big Daddy Glenn: Mine. We aren’t that sort of program, and besides, it’s freezing outside!

Boss Delikado: But frozen nips put a swing in Delikado’s hips! Wooohooooo!

Delikado promptly jumps up and begins to dance exotically with his piglet in hand, much to the bewilderment of Big Daddy Glenn and to the laughter of Buckson Gooch.


Delikado and Gooch are scribbling on people’s papers and smiling for cameras.

Boss Delikado: Ya know, this is pretty bizarre...

Buckson Gooch: What is?

Boss Delikado: *pointing* That kid’s face! Bwhahahahahahahahaaaaa!

Buckson Gooch: He doesn't mean it kid. I'm sure that bowl hair cuts will come back in style. Keep setting trends, little man.

Kid: I'm a girl.

Buckson Gooch: Sweet Sassy Mollassy...have a...good day...next in line?....

Delikado and Gooch sign more merchandise as Buck tries to make small talk and take pictures and Delikado laughs at people’s expense before clearing his throat, taking a puff of his cigar, and turns to Gooch.

Boss Delikado: So for reals, Delikado knows what HE’s doing in the Battle Royal, but what about you, Goochie?

Buckson Gooch: I learned a lot being in Survive & Conquer this year. I’m embarrassed by how I performed. I think I only eliminated one person and I was totally a non-factor. I learned some valuable experience. I watched how Terry Marvin did...I know I’m not the wrestler that he is...yet, but I’m going to sling some people over the top. People are going to see me as a force here in APW. There are guys who are extremely tough, Like Level-One. Guys that are extremely violent, like Jason Kash. I'll have to deal with them individually as they come and think on my feet. This match is purely a game of chance. Where you get the draw and where others do will dictate what type of match you have to wrestle. I plan on eliminating the most people. I'll do that using my superior power. The Meltdown Invitational Rumble and Rasslemania IX is where Buckson Gooch is going to be put on the map!

Boss Delikado: Mhmm, mhmm, how VERY enthusiastic and smart…

Delikado can be seen writing literally everything Gooch said down on a piece of paper, which Buckson notices casually.

Buckson Gooch: What are you—

Boss Delikado: Nothing! Distraction!

Quickly, Delikado pulls a book, “The Prince”, out of his coat and passes it over to Buck.

Boss Delikado: You should totally read this. Rumor has it it’s partially inspired by them Borgia’s, or in your modern-day equivalent, Honey Boo-Boo. Either way, both were successes, and you should take note of the advices on success this book offers.

Buckson Gooch: Thanks, Delikado! I sure appreciate it.


The P.A. system lets everyone know that Gooch and Delikado are done. Delikado runs off...like on a sprint...Buck walks down the line signing autographs quickly.

Buckson Gooch is sitting at the desk in the hotel room he’s sharing with Jimmy. Jimmy is sprawled on the bed watching CSPAN or something like that. Buck is actually clean. He took a shower after his match tonight. He's proud of the work he and Tommy Knoxville put in. He traveled a lot today. Buffalo to Philly and Philly to Ontario. Buck is very tired, but completely enthralled. Buck is reading Machiavelli's “The Prince.”

Jimmy Gooch: It was great seeing Delikado today. I’m really glad he let me borrow that book. I’m looking forward to reading more of what Delikado tells me. I feel like I get real life application from Delikado...and I'm proud of you for your match. Good job. But I'm sure enjoying reading.

Buck only catches part of what Jimmy’s saying, as he’s focusing on the book.

Buckson Gooch: Yeah, I like Delikado, too...I’ll let you know what I’m thinking when I finish reading it. Machiavelli was onto something. I mean...


Buck trails off and starts reading again. Understanding that he's lost his father to the book, Jimmy turns off CSPAN and pulls another book form his bag that Delikado had passed off to him...I’m sure we’ll hear more about it later. Buck continues to read as the scene fades out.

[Jules]

The scene opens inside the familiar studio. You know it: solitary chair, Meltdown backdrop, and here’s the final piece furniture...

Guvnor: Alright! Welcome to the second episode of The Guv’nor’s Guide to Surviving the Meltdown Invitational. Before I get on with today’s lesson I have to recognise the contributions we’ve seen from my fellow combatants. I’ve been following with curiosity the travelogue of Buckson Gooch. Aside from being my personal favourite country bumpkin, good ol’ Gooch is taking in all the sights and sounds of the good ol’ U.S. of A. en route to Rasslemania. Got to admit I got a case of the green eyed monsters seeing Gooch on his travels with little Jimmy Gooch, while I’m holed up here in this ‘lockdown’, with the steam room offering the only change of scenery. But enjoy the trip while it lasts Gooch, ‘cause I can’t promise your last trip on the road to Rasslemania will be an enjoyable, especially since it involves me chucking that tubby rear of yours over the top rope. You may be built like a brick shit-house, bruv, but with this hammer (he raises his right clench fist) I promise them bricks will fall luvvly jubbly.

Let’s not forget Jason Kash either. Let me be clear, I give Jason Kash ten out of ten on his fighting merits, and he’s a diamond geezer, one of your own as they say; not like these cheap, rotten slags that seem proliferate around this neck of the words. Yeah, proliferate, I love that word. Got that mug Mr. Black, with all his fancy learning, to give me that word. Anyway, me and Jase, well we got a bit previous, since that Reaver bloke couldn’t be trusted to honour his half of a bargain. He stepped in like a big American hero, except like a true Texan he went and choked in our little Alamo moment. Nevermind Jase, no hard feelings mate; I know you’re a man after my own heart, preferring to do your talking with your fists. Not so sure on all this contemplation mind, sunshine, though I know what you mean by addictions. Ever since coming to APW I’ve got addicted to smashing up anyone who stands in my way, and you’re no different, bruv. So when your Davey Crockett moment comes, don’t worry mate, I’ll ensure I take out like an Indian in a John Wayne movie.

Alright director, roll the title.

The scene fades out to a title screen that reads.

The Guv’nor’s Guide to Surviving the Meltdown Invitational
Lesson 2: Expect The Unexpected

The scene fades back into the studio; The Guv’nor is sat on the chair.

It’s one them wonders of the universe how the wrestling world is full of people who’ve spent years training and working themselves into these chiselled beefcakes, just so they have the power and the strength to survive the graft of being a professional wrestler. Yet, when they achieve all that they start thinking their fucking intellectuals or whatnot.

I listen to some of these mugs rattle on and you’d think they’d spent the day with Stevie Hawkins the way they carry on like this is some kind of political science discussion. Then they turn their attention to ring matters, gabbing off about how it’s all a game of chess, scientific wrestling, mind over matter, sussing out the opposition, all that bollocks.

Well I challenge you, bright sparks, sit down and suss out The Guv’nor. You can’t, and no matter what you do, I’ll always find a way to surprise you, simply because I have no limits. That’s the facts.

It’s a bit like these rumble matches. Everyone sits down and tries to analyse how they win the thing. In my time I’ve heard all sorts of rubbish about the correct strategy and preparation. But unless you’re Mystic Meg, the masterplan will fall to pieces after 2-3 wrestlers have entered the fray. Trust me, this is no environment for the plan; it’s one that opens its arms to anarchy and allows it full reign; it rewards only those wrestlers who can embrace and react to the chaos around them, not someone who thinks they control it.

I said before Survive & Conquer, throw the plan away, because the mugs with strategies will be the first ones sent packing. This rule is squared in this match. Back then we all knew our numbers, so we could at least have some kind of anticipation of what to expect, even if it just meant looking at those who came into the fray around the same time. Here? Well anything goes because we’re all in the dark.

Look, you could have a masterplan figured, carried out detailed analysis, compiled nice thick dossiers on every opponent, but if you’re drawn number 1 and The Guv’nor is drawn 2, that plan is useless if you haven’t prepared for a level of pain that only a BLACK CAB SMASH can deliver. And if you have it all worked out, you know all the weaknesses of every opponent, and you want to apply your scientific wrestling to win the day – what if when you’re drawn 15 there are half a dozen grizzly, tasty fighters breathing on you when you enter the ring. How are you going to expose any individual weakness when you’re set upon by a pack of ravenous wolves? I’m no Einstein, but even I know that in this day and age Science has learnt not even it can control the chaos. You try to impose order when there’s a dozen eyes glaring at you and you’ll find the flesh torn off your bones before you can even think ‘hammerlock’.

The Guvnor takes a pause as he shifts position in his chair, presumably to make himself comfortable.

Guvnor: But let’s say you’re in that ring, you’ve got a one-on-one tussle with an opponent you’ve got figured inside out – can you deal that crushing blow in just two minutes? Can you repeat that wrestler after wrestler for an hour? If not, then get ready to for a shower of shit to rain all over you. That ring will grow exponentially with angry, psyched up fighters as the clock ticks on, and suddenly the control is slipping away and the chaos is taking authority.

The point is you can never control anything, you cannot anticipate or strategise you maximise your strengths. Expect nothing but chaos; expect whatever you couldn’t possibly dream of to find itself some form inside this match; expect, when you think you’ve got the match under control, for some slag to blindside you and upend you right over the top.

Expect this.

The Guv’nor steps off the chair, runs at the camera and lands a punch that cracks the screen. The scene fades as we hear Guvnor cursing and swearing, and the webcast comes to an end.

[The Main Attraction]

"The Main Attraction" - Roleplay: Life After Meltdown Part I #1

[glow=red,2,300] March 13th 5:32 PM[/glow]

[shadow=red,left,300] Welcome To The Good Life!-Kanye West [/shadow]

[shadow=red,left,300] WAAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKEEE UUUUPPP!-Lawrence Fishburne [/shadow]

Recently


The scene opens up in Buckroe Beach, Virginia. As zoom deeper into the frame we see Uncle Charlie’s private boat. The reason why see Uncle Charlie’s boat in Buckroe Beach is because Mannie needed a much needed vacation, and who could blame him? It was well deserved don’t you think so? I mean after all of the countless matches he’s won, he had to take some time off to keep from getting burnt out so hence the vacation was needed. Mannie had felt so exhausted in fact that it was his Uncle Charlie who decided to use his private boat to give his nephew what he needed. So for the last couple of days Mannie and Uncle Charlie have been gone away off shore.



Now as we go closer upon Uncle Charlie’s boat, we can see none other than “The Main Attraction” himself dressed in an unbuttoned Versace shirt, pajama bottoms, and some custom black & gold “Main Attraction” slippers. As we keep looking we also see Mannie stumbling out to the upper deck with a bottle of Bombay Gin in hand. Mannie’s seems to be currently drunk from the way he keeps trying to find equal footing, but luckily he finds a lounge chair to lie on. When Mannie finally lies down to rest after a long night of partying, he is soon joined by Uncle Charlie who walks out with a few lovely ladies, as Uncle Charlie comes across Mannie on the patio he motions for the ladies to go on without him so he can sit down with his nephew. [/i][/color]

“Ahhh this is life ain’t it nephew?”

“It sure is Uncle.”

“Yep…It don’t get no better than this, I can tell you that for sure. It’s funny though nephew, you know at first I was worried about you.”

“Really?”

“I was scared that once you lost that title that you would go crazy or something.”

“Ha me going crazy? Nah not me Uncle, I’m okay with losing that championship as a matter of fact…I’m glad I lost it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well for one thing Uncle I became too much of a big star for Meltdown, I mean I was drafted as the champion and I had defeated the World Champ on Asylum at the same damn time. There was so much hate backstage I could breathe through the smug air. So I knew sooner or later someone was going find a way to screw me out the title but at least it came quicker than later. So luckily for me I don’t have the burden of being a brand with a bunch of wannabes who want my spot.”

“Yeah you’re right nephew, as a matter fact good riddance. You didn’t need to stay on Meltdown anyways, they didn’t know what they had in you as a champion. Why would you really go back on Meltdown at all? Hell even Sienna tried to sell you up the river. If you ask me now nephew, being drafted was the best thing to happen to us.”

“Yep goodbye Meltdown!”

“Well let me stop you right there nephew, before we can start saying that I got some good news and bad news.”

Mannie rubs his temple before drinking from bottle of Bombay Gin

“You might as well tell me Uncle, so tell the bad news first please.”

“Okay nephew, well the bad news is that we will be going back to the Meltdown for the invitational battle royal there having.”

“Well that’s easy for me too hear because I decline the invite, so moving on!”

Uncle Charlie props himself up so that he can turn around in the chair, he sits sideways to show Mannie he is more serious in tone

“Now wait a minute nephew, hear me out before you the shut the choice down.”

“Okay Uncle because it’s you, I will hear it out first…”

“Now listen up nephew, from what I been hearing there’s been a lot of talk about this battle royal being special.”

“Well aren’t all battle royals supposed to be quote on quote special?”

Mannie pulls out a pair of shades to cover his eyes, he looks like is going to take a nap until Uncle Charlie removes his glasses for him.

“Pay attention Mannie! If you let me finish I will explain what makes this one so much different.”

“I’m listening!”

“Okay good, Because this battle royal is truly unlike any other that you been in before Mannie.”

“Come on Uncle just tell me!”

“Okay! Okay! See this one isn’t your typical brand only battle royal, this one is has all 3 brands participating in it. I mean it’s has everyone from Level One to even Amy Zing in it.”

Mannie begins to sit up himself as he is really now interested, he sips from the bottle some more while listening.

“See nephew this battle royal even has monumental size prizes.”

“How big?”

“I'm talking Survive & Conquer Big! Nephew and on top of that were talking battle royal only, none of that other crap with matches added will be happening nether.”

Mannie now has a major face of disbelief upon hearing this news

“Get the hell out of here!”

“No really nephew, but here's the thing there is a catch…”

“I knew it! there is always a catch.”

“Just let me finish nephew!”

“The only catch is that every brand but Asylum has a set prize, Reginald has made it clear yet what a winner from Asylum will get.”

“No dice! I was on board until I heard that, I mean I would be stupid to get in a match like that and risk injury without knowing the benefits. So no thank you!”

“Hold up nephew your going to listen to me damn it…You’re going to do that match!”



“Excuse me?”

“You heard me right! You’re going to do that match and you will put all on the line.”

“You must of partied to hard Uncle, I’m going back to sleep.”

Nah nephew you will not being going asleep, because you will be doing that battle royal.”

“I ain’t doing anything unless I feel like it!”

“Ohhh so your only going to do things unless you feel like it?”

“Yeah unless I feel like it!”

Mannie goes to drink from the Bombay Gin bottle when all of sudden Uncle Charlie snatches it and tosses it overboard

“Not the Bombay Gin…NOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“The Main Attraction” collapses to his knees as he watches his favorite drink float away into the sea; he start to shed a lonely tear as Uncle Charlie shakes his head in embarrassment.

“Ohhh Father!”

“Boy you better get your ass up, before I knock your ass”

Mannie hits his feet faster than a pool boy escaping the bedroom of a cougar whose husband just came home, after seeing his Uncle Charlie raise his backhand. Since Mannie is on his feet now Uncle Charlie starts to nod.

“Yeah I thought so…Get some sense boy or I will knock into you. Now what I’m going to do is enjoy the rest of this vacation, and you know what you’re going to do?”

Mannie the frighten face similar to that of Courage the Cowardly Dog and in the same way a similar tone.”

“No…”

“Exactly nephew, you’re going to do nothing! See maybe when you actually want to go back to working again for all this right here, then maybe just maybe…you will get to have some fun again nephew! So buh-bye!”

The scene fades as Mannie is left with much to think about, while his Uncle goes back to partying. As we can now see from a wide angle, Mannie is seriously stuck in deep thought, while his Uncle is singing this song



And chasing those girls around. [/i][/color]

[Cid Phoenix 2013]

Cameras fade in with the second segment of Melvin Peabody's interview with Cid Phoenix. Phoenix has taken off his blazer and sits arms crossed. The audience applauds as Melvin turns to smile at the camera and begins the segment..

MP: Hello APW! Once again this is Melvin Peabody and tonight, I am interviewing a man who has his plate full in Cid Phoenix, who not only has a Championship laddermatch scramble which we talked about earlier, but also has a 30 man rumble to deal with afterwards, I believe!

Peabody turns to Cid.

MP: I can't even begin to imagine the aspect of being physically able to compete in a championship ladder match scramble, and then have to go back out there, possibly spent of energy, and have to toss men over a top rope to eliminate them. How would you say that you would manage such a task?

CP: Well, I've only competed in four of these kinds of matches with this being my fifth.

MP: You ever win one of these?

CP (takes in a deep breath and exhales hard): No, Mel.. I've never one one of these, but hey, you never know!

MP: That is a good attitude to have.. How would you, yourself - as a veteran superstar prepare for something like this?

CP: Well, Mel - I can tell you that the most important thing is to watch your ass!

The audience laughs. Phoenix gives them a wink and nods his head.

MP: That was the strategy I would go with, yes..

CP: Seriously, Mel, in something like this.. A match of this caliber and the amount of participants involved, tensions can run pretty high. Everyone is trying to make their mark. Some of us are trying desperately to break out of the veil of obscurity, others are trying to put the exclamation point on their statuses as top level competitors, and there are even a few who just wanna be in there for the chance to fight for something important.

MP: Okay, and which one are you, Cid?

CP: Me? I'd like to think of myself as a survivor. Most if almost all of the wrestlers that I've come up with were either forced to early retirement, or had career-ending injuries. I think that when you gain that mentality to survive - especially in an industry as tough as this one, you develop a kind of a sixth sense for how to be careful and not slip up. I think that the same applies when dealing with this sort of a match. Sure, tensions can run high, but the main objective is to focus on survival and that's the biggest key to winning a tournament like this one.

MP: Well said! Do you have anyone in this torunament who you're going to be gunning for?

CP: I'll be striking at anything that nears me. Like I said, Mel.. This is survival of the fittest, rivalries and friendships go out the window. One has to focus on just staying alive.

MP: Thank you for that insightful look into your world! Ladies and Gentlemen, Cid Phoenix!!!

The audience applauds, and Cid Phoenix stands up and raises a hand.

MP: We'll be back after this commercial break with our next special guest, Steve Lombardi!!!

Cameras Fade Out.

[Jules]

For a third time the scene opens inside the nondescript studio with its lonely chair and tired looking backdrop. Here comes The Guv’nor.

Guv’nor: Welcome back, you’re with The Guv’nor and this is my guide to the Meltdown invitational. As far as hits go I’m told we’re pushing double figures, so keep ‘em coming. Views equal cash prizes, and I can see my lawyer’s eyes rolling round like a fruit machine every time we get an additional viewer.

Last time out I explained in plain terms why the modern strategists are as redundant for this match as Viagra in a nunnery. But if you want to try and put into action your best wrestling manual, then you better shape up proper.

The scene fades out to a title screen that reads.

The Guv’nor’s Guide to Surviving the Meltdown Invitational
Lesson 3: Conditioning

We fade back into the studio and The Guv’nor.

Guvnor: Conventional wisdom says the rumble match requires a special kind of wisdom. In 30-person rumble, with a new fighter every two minutes, that’s, er, well you do the maths. But one thing is certain few matches in wrestling are as demanding when it comes to time spent in the ring; factor in that at any one time it could be you other a dozen other snarling wrestlers in the ring, and the conditions are unique. Streetfights, flaming tables, Hell in a Cell, all these matches are brutal, but let’s be frank here, mateys, these are usually one on one affairs. There’s going to be a lot of pain and a lot of blood spilled, but you only need one set of eyes and one set of fists.

The conventional wisdom claims you need to be up to speed with your cardio. In my language that just means a lot of running around, twisting your body into odds shapes and sizes with that Yoga malarky; it’s all a lot of new age bollocks if you ask me. If you can run a marathon, how the fuck does that help with a fight against 29 other bloodthirsty beasts?

Conventional wisdom can do one because it’s full of shit. Listen to the old Guv’nor here: the only conditioning you need is what’s in your head and in your heart. Controlling your heart rate and your breathing, leave it out and save it for the Olympics sunshine. There’s two things you need to bear in mind here, and two things only: how much can you take, and how to pick your shots.

If a boxer’s chief asset is his chin, then in a rumble a wrestler’s is his heart. When you’re faced with twenty-something monsters in a cut-throat environment it’s the hardness of your cobblers, not the power in your fists that count. So you can knock a man spark out in thirty seconds? Well that’s fine and dandy, bruv, but what if after two minutes you’re body can’t take the punishment no more? You’re fucked, that’s what.

I don’t care how dominant a wrestler is, at some point he’s going to take some punishment out there. That’s the nature of the game when you’re outnumbered. Give me any fighter in the world I swear down I’ll chin that slag and knock right out of his or her boots. Put me in the ring with ten of them, and I got to let those bastards know no matter how much they knock me down I will still get up and come back at them as hard and as fast as I did at the first bell.

Physical strength don’t win rumbles, mental strength and will power does. The bottle to stand up and say to the rest ‘give me as much as aggro as you can muster, sunshine, and I’ll still be hearing grinning back at you’. The thing is you can’t teach this, you can’t acquire it by running some machine in the gym, or reading some manual – you either got it by your nature, or your learn by having your head smashed about enough times to toughen you up.

I look at the playing field and I can see plenty of talent in one on one situations, plenty of grafters who’ve put in time in the gyms. But who has the heart? Maybe some people say Level-One, but since he became Terry Marvin’s designer handbag he’s lost his edge. What about Johnny Rebel? Just tell that slag to come wearing that business suit of his ‘cause I’ll iron him out with a single right cross.

The rest of them have got to stand up and make themselves counted. So forget the gym, lads, get yourself downtown, find a gang of some of the hardest nuts you can find, give them some solid objects to work with and invite them to go to town. Then and only then can you look in the mirror and know if you’ve got the right conditioning for this match, for The Guv’nor, for something MADE IN HACKNEY.

The scene fades out as the webcast comes to an end.

[The Main Attraction]

"The Main Attraction" - Roleplay: Life After Meltdown Part II #2

[glow=red,2,300] March 15th 6:17 PM[/glow]

Recently


The scene opens up from The Main Attraction’s tour bus, the bus is currently riding from a business meeting which was with a very important endorser. Mannie is seemed to be relaxed as he’s on the phone talking privately in the back, while Uncle Charlie is up the front of the bus on Skype still discussing some minor details on the new deal. Now as to which company exactly is Mannie dealing terms with is still unknown, reportedly the project itself has been kept under wraps. Now as we keep looking some more, Mannie is finishing up talking on the phone, while Uncle Charlie finally closes the deal. So with things becoming more apparent and being removed from 2 days ago, it’s certain that Mannie’s camp is still on the same page.

“Okay so will just link up later, so I will text you when I get the chance too. Bye sweetheart.”

Mannie seems as giddy as a young boarding school boy who just seen a group of girls arrive in his direction, He is all smiles at this point until all of a sudden he startled from hearing Uncle Charlie’s laptop close.

“Didn’t I tell you I was going to do it nephew?”

“What’s going on now?”

“I will tell you exactly what’s going on Mannie, Because exactly one minute ago I close that deal for you.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes I’m serious Mannie, I told you that your Uncle Charlie would come through for you nephew.”

“I knew that you would Uncle, and that’s why you been with me ever since I came back. I know you know what’s best for me, so that’s why I trust you with my business. So I just need to know something?”

“Sure nephew what’s up?”

“How did you do it?”

“Well considering since I been so hard on you lately nephew, I guess I can let you know that. So let’s just say your Uncle Charlie sold them real hard on The Main Attraction’s bright future, I mean once I started talking about your rise to prominence in APW and how much you connected with the public they were ready to sign ASAP.

“You’re the best Uncle.”

“Thanks nephew, and with that coming from you means a lot to me. Now look I think we have some unfinished business ourselves, Now listen…I’m not the most emotional person in the world, but nephew I just want to say that I’m sorry for blowing up on you like I did two days ago.”

“No need to apologize Uncle Charlie, you were right in doing so. I was really acting like a spoil brat, I honestly forgot that even now with all this new fame and attention that it’s going to take a lot more hard work to stay relevant and I know that now. So thank you!”

“Your welcome nephew and to just to show you how truly sorry that I am, I bought you something to make up for it.”

Mannie looks confused as Uncle Charlie reaches on top of his bed bunk and pulls out two bottles of Bombay Gin, which is Mannie’s favorite drink by the way.

“Uncle you shouldn’t have…”

“No it’s my way of apologizing properly for tossing that bottle into the ocean two days ago, so I hope this one makes up that bottle and that this bottle is ready to open so that we can celebrate that new deal for you.”

Mannie rubs his hands together as he takes one of the bottles and pops it open, he proceeds to pour Uncle Charlie a glass before sipping from the bottle itself.

“I wish Alec was here to celebrate with us, how is he anyway?”

“Well Mannie he told me he is still handling some business back home, but he will be back by the next shows. So everything is okay with him but what your Uncle Charlie needs for you to do is enjoy yourself!”

“Okay Uncle I can do that, so are suppose to be clubbing tonight?”

“I don’t see why not…”

“Hmmm maybe not this time.”

“What?”

“I mean don’t get me wrong Uncle I love to party, but I need to make sure I stay on top of my game. So after this bottle of Bombay Gin, I will need to hit the gym.”

“You know what?”

“What?”

“I think you finally got it Mannie, so that sounds good to me nephew, it sounds real good to me.”

“Thanks Uncle, so you never told me who I was facing at Rassle Mania?”

Uncle Charlie makes an uneasy face as he knows Mannie hasn’t had the news broken to him yet.

“Okay Mannie I will tell you, but let me just say you been a real trooper about all this. I really mean that from the way you handle not being on the main card for Mania to also doing this battle royal.”

“Just get on with it…”

“Hmmm are you sure?”

“Yes! so just go head I can handle it, I mean it can’t be that bad.”

“Well your opponent is William.”

Mannie pauses for a chuckle, acting as if he misheard what Uncle Charlie said.

“William who?”

“William D. Williams!”

Mannie begins to bite his bottom which signifies he is not happy with the news

“You’re joking right?”

“Sorry nephew, but it’s true I had a conversation with Jeff and Reginald. I already told you Mannie it was going to be some days like this, you know at first they hadn’t even have a spot for you on the card. So you know what I did? I told them that my nephew better be on the show or there was going to be some problems. So after a heated argument with Jeff, Reginald stepped in and suggested the pre-show match. I didn’t want too but it was the last thing they had available so I took it, I mean exposure is exposure.

“Right, right…But check it I’m not even mad about that anymore Uncle. I can’t believe William would take that match knowing damn well, I was in it.”

“I know what you’re saying nephew, so I called him up to see if he was even hip to the whole situation and he told me he was cool with it. He also went as far as saying that he plans for his 1st Rassle Mania to be a W.”

“Ohhh…He’s cool with it? Okay! Well will see how much he’s cool with it, when I show up on Meltdown and see what he has to say. I mean what the hell? Like seriously, who does that? He knows damn well he shouldn’t have done that, because out of all those people left on the card he chooses to do a match with me. All he had to do was say no, but it’s all good!”

The scene fades as Mannie has a smug look on his face, while drinking up the rest of the bottle. Meanwhile in the background Uncle Charlie has snuck off into the bathroom to get on the phone.

“Yeah Reginald, this is Charlie…He’s in!”

[Jason Cashe]

Jason Kash - Roleplay: Prepared for Anything Rp #2

Oh shit here he comes! Jungle Cock, eww!! Why did I hire this guy as a training partner? Why am I thinking so much? I need to be outside of my head, this is the training, this is the preparation. Am I ready for this? Fuck that who's ever really ready? You have a game plan but never a blue print for every game plan so I need to be prepared for anything. Here comes another...GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!

Inside of a gym. The only ring is filled with people surrounding Jason Kash. A big black man is laying outside the ropes, having been thrown over the ropes by Kash moments ago. Another two come rushing at him, one from behind, one in the front. He ducks a clothesline from one and it connects with the person behind Kash. Quickly he snatches one of their heads and runs them, tossing them over the ropes. Sweating, using instincts now instead of his inner thoughts Kash seems to be on point and spins around and dips forward to hit the incoming training partner with a Shoulder Toss and sends him to the outside as well.

More of the people in the ring come into the "match" including a few females. No sooner than Kash turns to them is he field goal kicked to the balls by one of the female wrestlers. Kash goes crooked at the knees. He puts up the international sign for a timeout as he tilts over onto his side.

Jason Kash: Ohhhh...eghhh...time out. Please. That ruptured my nuts. Why would you do that? Aghhh..

The female shrugs her shoulders and looks around at the other training partners. Some giggle and some out right laugh. Kash himself tries to laugh it off, tries to get up but the pain is like an echo through his body. One of the guys in the ring help Kash to his feet and Kash rips from his grasp and tees off with his own field goal kick to the female's crotch. She comes off her feet an inch or two and doesn't have the time to tilt, she drops right onto her side. Kash grabs a handful of her hair and pulls her up to her feet and tosses her over the ropes. Taking a deep breath as he watches her squirm around on the gym's floors. He turns around and makes an announcement.

Jason Kash: We're taking a break....I need an icepack and get that cunt out of here. Kicking me or anyone to the nuts during TRAINING!?! Bury that bitch in the back of the building.

Leaving the ring I wasn't concerned with being a bad guy in anyone's eyes. Who uses nut shots during training? Fucking cunt. I have a limp right now cause of that bitch. Ahh off the ring apron is a jolt I didn't expect but now heading to the locker room I can feel the relaxation of that ice pack already. I could use a joint but I hold back that craving and have replaced it with others.

The thoughts come to a stop as he cuts to the right as soon as he enters the locker room. Opening a deep freezer, he pulls out an ice pack and a Ice Cream Cone treat. Letting the door drop closed, Kash turns and sits on a folding chair nearby. The ice pack tightly pressed in between his legs, he unwraps the ice cream cone. The chocolate hard cover over the ice cream cracks as his teeth bites into it.

Jason Kash: Oh that's good..Ice cream is too! I gotta be ready for whatever, hitting up stitches on opponents like switches on a low rider. I gotta do it up like Super Duper man to overcome some of these dudes in this match. Delikado, Lester, any and all man or woman could win this match. It's not or ever has been about Survival Guides or one on one skill, Rumbles bring a different skill set and while Survival has apart of that skill set, it's not the best thing to get into the ring with. I have survived bullets, stabbings, and cell bars in Prison but this is something more so unpredictable than any of that.

Another bite from the ice cream, he pockets the bite into his cheek so it doesn't slip through the gap in his teeth as he talks.

Jason Kash: You never know where your next attacker will come from. Direction and knowing your 12s and 6s are what will help you survive. Hear that from my lips, not the lips of some Govnor that nobody elected. Do you hear the wisdom of someone who has accomplished or someone who hasn't done anything to even have a Survival Guide. What experience comes with this guide, I just don't understand some people. I'm sitting, ice cream in my hand, ice pack on the doojies and my game plan is ever changing. It's the only game plan that can work because it's always adapting to what can work, what can survive, what...can...win..

Female: Excuse me, Jason?

His voice stops going and he looks up at the female that kicked him to the balls. He casually licks away at the ice cream in his hand. She steps in and looks around as she approaches.

Female: Are you decent?

Jason Kash: I'm clothed but no, I'm far from decent. I shouldn't have lost my grip on cool out there. I wanted a realistic training and you gave me that. Why someone hasn't kicked everyone in the balls in a Rumble before is beyond me, what a finishing move! So for that you've given me another thing to be prepared for. You'll find a little extra in your pay for the day.

Female: Oh Thank You! I'm only trying to feed my son, he's four now and--

Jason Kash: I'ma stop you there. I don't give two shits about your reasons for being here. I don't care about your son either, fuck you both. I've brought you here to train, not tell stories. Take that shit to someone on Overdrive, they could add it to their other story time stories....Now get out of here..

I should bust her in the mouth with this ice pack just for thinking I'd care about her issues in life. I've got my own, who doesn't? Everyone has a problem or two and who am I to hear hers to cry to her about my own? I just don't see the point but she helped me. It's good to realize that now and see that everything in life is a lesson and that to me only feeds the Addiction to become better which ever performance and day training. I got big boat dreams still...speaking of boats..

Jason Kash: Young Mannie is hanging out on Boats now? He'd have fit right in on Lonely Island's "I'm On A Boat" video because he outright doesn't belong on a boat. You win a couple of matches and suddenly you sailing, profiling, and eating fish eggs and calling them something fancy. You lost your mind! I can't wait, I can't WAIT to see you, to have the ability to put my hands on you. To stomp you into the canvas, the steel steps, the back of your head as you're biting down on the edge of the ring apron. I can't wait! "Main Attraction" more like Freak Show, boy you keep letting this little bit of shine lose your mind cause I'll be REAL quick to slap you back to reality. What Meltdown HAD was a middle man Champion, don't forget that. You defended that strap what once and then lost it and now nobody cares. You weren't above Meltdown, you struggled for how long before you started walking like a man?

And when was that moment? When was it that you looked around you and decided you needed change to better yourself? Think about it Mannie. November 19th. That was the day I pinned you inside a Meltdown ring. Do you remember? It was also the last match you had in APW until January 13th. Now I think you owe me some appreciation here Mannie! Without that loss, without that heartbreak, you'd have never stepped away, gone and rassled for that small promotion. You'd have never given yourself the makeover you so desperately needed! All...Thanks...To Me! Now you'll probably be bashful and take all credit away from me but the proof is in the pudding buddy! It's right there for the WORLD to see. I sent you on a vacation and you came back with 3 less Numbers in your nickname. It's real sad to be you..

One man in this Rumble I have always greeted with a friendly handshake and all the respect in the world is Level One. Lester Only to some. The man has taken any doubt of who is the Face of APW over his time in this promotion. Who can challenge that claim more than him? He's had classics with Sally, Gates, Biggs, and the list grows with every match he has and gets past. However one thing as of late confuses me about the man. He wants and has said he will one day get HIS Undisputed Belt back. He has a shot for that belt anytime he wants it even correct? Yet he's biding time, watching as someone like TMarv hogs the true glory. Sure you guys have gone and won Tag Titles else where but what does that mean if the honor in APW gold is all that anyone here cares about? What's the hesitation Lester? Why hold back and not remove TMarv as you have with anyone else who has held what you want and pranced around like what you've earned is something they have. The face of the show is now TMarv? Before it was Kurt Noble but where has Lester been all this time? Right there watching it happen.

I remember when I first came through the doors. DangerTainment had made a deal with your THEN cause, Free Agents. Right off the bat you had allies in the form of the group I led and we only sought out small roles in your big plans. I watched you do your thing and have learned lessons each and everytime I've seen you compete or open your mouth but now? In this match? It's not your time, it's mine. I understand IF we hear anything from you before the Rumble, it'll be on the 18th if at all and I for one cannot wait to see how you try and explain why this match, the reward for winning even makes you want to compete. Why do you need another shot at a belt you've since your little alliance has failed to even go after? See Overdrive is fine, there isn't any issues with its future but for Asylum? Asylum has people like Keaton Saint and The Pillars or The Dying Breed with Anthony Bailey wanting to direct the blue prints for Asylums future. I as one of the names who was there for the final IWC show. I've been the only true name that has risen with Asylum from it's very START as a real APW show to now, as almost an EQUAL to Overdrive.

You know the problem with Big Men in a Rumble? Most the time they do really well! They have eliminations, they own the ring for a good while and back in the day they won them with ease. But now you have your little run, you do your thing and then you get ganged up on. Thrown out by a group of 5, 6, 7 people who want the biggest threat eliminated NOW instead of after he tosses a few more out. See Lester, you might want this win to feed the ego but for Asylum, I NEED this. To see my show, it's future fall into the hands of those holding it. That disgraces everything I've worked for, worked towards and soon...Very soon it won't just be Reaver and myself fighting for Asylum's Blue prints. We will write it's future and Lester, that is a hunger, a cause that you have never had. I wanted to change the past from which Asylum, from which IWC came from, one you spit on yourself. I did that and now I secure it's future from being converted into something it's not.

As far as other people go in this match from the Trevor Hyatts to the Stefan Raabs and Cid Phoenixs...I have but one thing to say to all of you. Thank You, Come Again. I'd have thrown a "Look at my dot" Indian accent but I think the message is the same either way. Haha. You can come, you can try, you can eliminate 5-6 people but in the end. As the music of the winner plays, it will be MY music playing. None of you have the determination I have right now. This Rumble, RassleMania, none of you are as focused as I am and couldn't be because preparation makes a man and god may made men the same but your heart ain't like mine, not right now. Failure isn't an option for me but it's the only option you have. Know that now because it's the truth of all truths for you that I've named, and those who go unnamed.

This isn't a game to me, this isn't a job or duty I must accomplish in order to add something more to my belt. It's an Addiction to wanting to get this done, to achieving this in order to feed that addiction and anyone standing in my way can only consider themselves unlucky, destined for failure. You can consider yourselves FUCKED...The Addicted takes this and dances like a Pest in victory here and ain't nothing nan nunna youz doodes can dos a GODDAMN thing bouts it! WHUT UP!

Scene Fades

[Jason Cashe]

Jason Kash - Roleplay: I'm Done Rp #3

Finished..

[amyzing]

Amy Zing Roleplay #1

::Amy Zing is rolling a ping pong ball around in her hand. She keeps rolling it around in her hand, between her fingers. She holds it up and looks at it.::

::She is sitting in the locker room of an arena somewhere. She is already dressed to compete later in the evening for the fans in attendance.::

“It’s funny really. In a few days at Meltdown, a ball about the same size as this one is going to hold our fate inside. A ball like this will contain a number, our entry number into the rumble on Meltdown. Inside is either going to condemn us or give us an edge. Either way, we get a chance to shine.”

::Amy tosses the ball in the air and catches it.::

“So right before the biggest night in the APW, we gather one more time on Meltdown for a good old fashioned rumble. At the end of the night, someone walks away with the grand prize.”

“If a wrestler from the Monday Night Meltdown roster wins the match, they get to be drafted to the show of their choice.”

“That doesn’t seem too grand a prize if you really think about it. Sort of like “well you won match for Meltdown, now get out”. I mean why not a Tag Team or North American title shot or they can be general manager for a night? Just seems a bit of a downer to win and then be moved to another show. It makes it seems like Meltdown is not all that important. Doesn’t really seem fair to Meltdown does it? I mean making it seem less important or like some sort of detention you have to be released from. Seems a bit insulting in a way, doesn’t it? I don’t know, maybe it’s just me.”

::She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, stopping herself from rambling. She opens her eyes.::

“However, if that person goes to Overdrive, they get a title shot. If the got to Asylum, they get a mystery prize. I kind of like that, the mystery prize that is. Give a little air of mystery, and it is a much better prize than just getting drafted.”

“If a wrestler from Overdrive is victorious, they will receive a title shot whenever the general manager decides. That’s an interesting prize. While I think that is great, I really do. However, when that shot is to happen, it is for the General Manager to decide, and it is for any title. That does not mean it will be for the world title."

::Amy pauses in thought for a moment.::

“Really is rather odd we have two world championships. It seems rather silly to me to have two titles that represent the same thing. Personally, I’d unify the both of them into one world title, but that’s me.”

“Oh well”

::She shrugs.::

“It wasn’t my decision.”

“Still, it is a rather nice price.”

“Now if a member of the Asylum they get a mystery prize and that is rather something of a catch twenty-two. It might make you fight harder and want to win more because you want to know what the prize is. However, it may not be that great of a prize. I doubt that though. The air of mystery is rather nice I think.”

“But that is neither here nor there.”

::She smiles, looking a little excited at the prospect of being in such a match. After all, she was not in time to register for Survive and Conquer.::

“One cannot win the prize unless one wins the match.”

“However, this match is not going to be easy to win by any stretch of the imagination. Two wrestlers start out and every 90 seconds a new one comes in. There are no guarantees in this match. The number one spot could win in an incredible upset. The guy who comes into the match as the second entry could last all the way to the end, only to be dumped over the top rope at the last second. Or, maybe, the last person in ends up winning the match, though, honestly that seems a bit anti-climatic to me.”

“Either way, this is one more stop on the road to Rasslemania. One more stop before the biggest night in the APW.”

::“The Hong Kong Sensation” tosses the ball into the air and catches it again.::

“This is the kind of match where all the skill, strength and ability one possesses may not be enough to get the win. You could be big and bad and that may just make people gang up on you. You could be the fastest and that may work against you, getting thrown over the top on your own momentum. Even a high flyer may have problems. I mean if I climb the top, I could easily be pushes off, go over the top rope and out to the floor.”

“There’s no real strategy for a match like this either. Some people run in there like a house of fire, throwing strikes only to get hit and then try to recover. Others try to wait it out. Still others will head into the ring and take whatever shots they can. Yes, brief alliances form, but those usually only last until that alliance can eliminate someone, and then they turn on each other. Tag team partners may start fighting. You can plan for this match, but then that plan will more than likely go south fast.”

“Will and determination really don’t matter that much in this match. I have the will to win. I have the determination. But, that will only take me so far in this match. Heart helps, but not a lot in this kind of match.”

“Skill, strength, ability, will and determination are only going to take one so far in a match like this. The real big factor in this match is luck.”

::Holding the ball with her index and middle fingers and her thumb, she looks at it as if it has some sort of secret to tell.::

“How lucky are you?”

“Did you get a good number?”

“How full is that ring when you walk out?”

“How empty is it?”

“Do you have any time to rest?”

::She releases the ball, letting it drop in her hand.::

“Normally, I am not one for luck. I rely on my skill, ability, heart and determination. Those however, like I said, will only take me so far in this match."

::She closes her fingers around the ping pong ball.::

“I am stepping into the ring at Meltdown against a lot of the top wrestlers in the APW. Some I have wrestled. Some I have not. Others, I may very well be eliminated by the time they get there or may be eliminated before I get there. Either way, it is one of those luck of the draw things.”

“Each one of us wants to win. Each one of us wants momentum going into Rasslemania. However, only one of us is going to get the win.”

“So at the end of the night, it really comes down to how lucky we all feel. It comes down to whether or not we think Lady Luck is on our side. I’m sure I can say that all of us feel lucky and we all think Lady Luck is on our side. But, I guess we’ll find out who fortune smiles upon at Meltdown.”

::Smiling again, Amy tosses the ping pong ball into the air and catches it. She holds it up with her thumb, index and middle fingers.::

“As for me, this match is all about the challenge. Everyone says I’m riding momentum, but I doubt a loss at Meltdown is going to somehow completely derail me. So I am going to go out there, walk into the ring, fight to the best I can and show as many people as I can why I am simply Amy Zing before I either get tossed out or win.”

::A cold look sudden starts to appear in Amy’s eyes and carries in her voice.::

“Although, I cannot deny that I have a strong desire to get in there and get another shot at Young Mannie. I do still owe him. And unlike the last time, I doubt Sienna Harrison will be sending someone to save him. So, whatever I do to him out there, if I can get him, is all legal.”

::She smiles a bit, in spite of herself.::

“But that is neither here nor there. No, right now, this is just about being one of thrity wrestlers competing on Meltdown in a rumble. This is about showing everyone why I am simply Amy Zing and trying to get some momentum going for Rasslemania. I wll see you all at Meltdown."

::She gets to her feet and walks out of the locker room. She tosses the ball back. It lands on the chair she had been sitting in and then rolls onto the floor.::

[End]

[Buckson Gooch]

Buckson Gooch - Roleplay: Tour de Rasslemania IX #4
Wednesday, March 13, 2013 - New York City, NY
11:30 P.M. Eastern Time

Jimmy and Buck are relaxing in large, comfortable chairs in what appears to be the greenroom for “99.9 The Beat.” The reason we know that is because signs are everywhere! Jimmy is wearing a green sweater that still has the goodwill tag on it, a pair of skinny corduroy jeans, and some old, dusty military boots. He’s reading the book that Delikado handed him and seems entrenched in it. Buck is wearing the giant, fox fur coat, but doesn’t have it buttoned. His dingy overalls, the knees in particular, is where he rests his hands watching the clock.

A well dressed young man comes in to usher Buck into the studio. Jimmy continues to read.

Walking down what felt like a maze of hallways, he finally is led into a studio, there he sees Frosty Jack. A man known to shock the masses of the area. His reputation is legendary, even to a redneck from Arkansas.

Frosty Jack: We’re glad to have Buckson Gooch on the show this morning. He’ll be promoting Rasslemania IX and the Meltdown Invitational Rumble, both taking place in Toronto. Welcome to the show this morning, Mr. Gooch.

Buckson Gooch: It’s good to be here this morning.

Frosty Jack: It seems you’ve been on quite the tear lately.

Buckson Gooch: I try to get better every day.

Frosty Jack: Coming up in Toronto in just a matter of days will be the Meltdown Invitational Rumble, you’ve been on a few radio shows pushing that you respect your opponents, that you want people to buy Rasslemania...on March 24, 2013 LIVE in Toronto...but how do you really feel?

Buckson Gooch: What do you mean?

Frosty Jack: Well, Jason Kash has had some rather personal things to say about you. So has The Guv’nor, and various others.

Buckson Gooch: It’s been a whirlwind of a publicity tour so...

Frosty Jack: Here are some of those comments:

Mar 13, 2013 20:21:36 GMT -4 Jules said:

Guvnor: Alright! Welcome to the second episode of The Guv’nor’s Guide to Surviving the Meltdown Invitational. Before I get on with today’s lesson I have to recognise the contributions we’ve seen from my fellow combatants. I’ve been following with curiosity the travelogue of Buckson Gooch. Aside from being my personal favourite country bumpkin, good ol’ Gooch is taking in all the sights and sounds of the good ol’ U.S. of A. en route to Rasslemania. Got to admit I got a case of the green eyed monsters seeing Gooch on his travels with little Jimmy Gooch, while I’m holed up here in this ‘lockdown’, with the steam room offering the only change of scenery. But enjoy the trip while it lasts Gooch, ‘cause I can’t promise your last trip on the road to Rasslemania will be an enjoyable, especially since it involves me chucking that tubby rear of yours over the top rope. You may be built like a brick shit-house, bruv, but with this hammer. I promise them bricks will fall luvvly jubbly.

Frosty Jack: Some big words there from The Guv’nor what are your thoughts?

Buckson Gooch: The Guv’nor is a talented guy. He’s a smart guy. He’s an ambitious guy. Really ambitious guy.

Frosty Jack: Are we about to get Buckson Gooch to throw someone under the bus? The nicest guy in APW?

Buckson Gooch: Nah, I respect the Guv’nor and if he thinks the height of his problems as the Rumble will be me and his goal is throw me over the top. I’m honored. I’ll give him the best fight I can.

Frosty Jack grunts into the microphone.

Frosty Jack: If that didn’t make your redneck blood boil, this should...

Mar 12, 2013 23:58:46 GMT -4 Jason Cashe said:

Jason Kash: GOOCH! Funny name, I just scratched you! Haha Tag Team partner to Tommy Knoxville, I'm promoting him just saying his name and know Gooch that Knoxville would drop you from behind if I called and said he could step up and have my back, be my partner again. I've got that because of the Influence I have been since day [bleep] one! Gooch, we sons of the South. Nobody can take that from us but outside of that my Country bred friend, you come from Arkansas which is the home to Wal-Mart and [bleep] your Sister or First Cousin.

That's your legacy to change but know that the change doesn't come so quickly for everyone. You took losing at the ViW Clash of The Titans pretty hard and well you should have. Losing sucks don't it? But a loss is a loss and if anything you've gained a lesson there. You've grown from that loss much like you will do in this one. See Gooch we might share the same Rebel Flag in our backgrounds but push comes to shove and I'm dumping your ass over the ropes. Plain and Simple. I'll pull you so hard by your overalls that the wedgie you get will need Medical Attention. Country Strong, Hillbilly Dumb.

Gooch’s expression doesn’t change.

Frosty Jack: Doesn’t that make you angry?

Buckson Gooch: You don’t know Jason Kash do you?

Frosty Jack: I’m familiar with his violent ring style.

Buckson Gooch: Jason Kash is one of the most honest men in APW. Honest in the sense of he will speak his mind. You know where he stands at all times. He is very blunt and to the point. I appreciate that. I’m the same way. He and I have different views on life. I choose to view the glass as half full, he chooses to view it as half empty. I don’t know much about his background, but I appreciate him for what he is. I know he is dangerous. He is violent. And if he says he’s going to do something, he’d run through a wall to do it.

Frosty Jack: Do you believe that he will eliminate you?

Buckson Gooch: I believe he and the Guv’nor will try.

Frosty Jack: Are you doubting their abilities?

Buckson Gooch: Absolutely not. If anything they are doubting my abilities. I don’t know why people think I’m dumb. I’m not a stupid person. I may not have a ton of education, but I’m not an idiot. I know a lot about being a father and a husband, being a friend and being a Christian. I know a lot about farming and working with animals. I'm a pretty good butcher. I’ve learned wrestling pretty quick and I’m only getting better. I’m 6’7”, I weight around 350 lbs. For anyone to think that I’ll be an easy elimination is crazy at best and a fool at worst.

Frosty Jack: Is that Buckson Gooch throwing folks under the bus?

Buckson Gooch: That’s Buckson Gooch ready to throw people over the top rope. When I first started here, no one mentioned me. No one knew who I was. I’ve grown as a competitor. To have competitors the esteem of Jason Kash and The Guv’nor lets me know I’m doing something right. Jason Kash is a lock for the APW Hall of Fame. The Guv’nor is getting a lot of attention, and rightfully so. This match is full of some of the best competitors in APW's illustrious history. Those who had the opportunity to sign up and didn't do it should be ashamed of themselves. If you want to be the best you have to compete against the best...and the Rumble will be a measuring stick for where many of us stand. I want to measure high amongst my peers.

Frosty Jack: Do you think that either of them will throw you over like they’ve claimed?

Buckson Gooch: No way...I’m going to win this thing.

Buck lets out a laugh. Frosty Jack realizes that he’s not going to get under the skin of Buckson Gooch, and he angrily is ready to end the segment.

Frosty Jack: That does it for this segment. Tune into the Meltdown Invitational Rumble coming up next week and then to Rasslemania IX. Thanks to Buckson Gooch for coming on. Probably the most boring segment on the show this week, but I guess the world needs some positive people.

With that the segment is over and Buck is whisked away down the hallways where he meets up with Jimmy...just finishing the last page of his most recent book...Discourses on the First Ten Books of Titus Livy by Niccolo Machiavelli. Jimmy closes the book and smiles, he’s sure Delikado will be proud of him for reading this book as well. The scene fades as Buck puts his arm around Jimmy and they leave the studio.

[Tommy Knox]

///Let's Get Ready To Rumble\\\
Chapter XXI, Part I

"Influence doesn't just cast it's shadow in his direction."
- Knoxville -

Wednesday 6:12 PM [March 13th, 2013]
New York, New York

Outside of the Nomad clubhouse, the sun slowly sets over the city this evening. The buildings in the distance hide the blazing ball of fire, casting a shadow on everything beneath. Life pumps throughout the city as all its couterparts work in
synchronization. It's just another day in the city. Same shit, just a different day.

A picnic table sits to the left of the clubhouse entrance. Knoxville and Mikey sit across from each other. The two are going back and forth in conversation as they throw back a few beers, enjoy the sounds of the city behind them and discuss business.

"I've been thinkin' about this upcomin' match constantly since Meltdown the other night. I know Gooch and I have our next step in the competition for the tag gold comin' up but I ain't about to lose focus on what's in front of me right now. The natural born cocksuckers will get what's due to them. Gooch and I have that in the bag. It's this battle royal that needs all my attention now." Knoxville takes a moment to pause and drink his beer as mikey chimes in.

"Well that's the thing. Gooch is in that match too. What happens if it's you and him left standing in that ring?" Mikey asks.

Knoxville takes another drink as he pulls out a cigarette and holds it between his fingers. "I honestly don't know. I underdstand that it's every man, or woman, for themselves. I'm not about to fuck over the ones closest to me for an opportunity to slingshot my way onto Asylum. I'll get there sooner than later, I just have to do my thing. I have Gooch's back, one way or the other. If I have to sacrifice my chance in advancing for him to move ahead then so be it. He's my partner, he's my friend."

"And what happens if you two don't win those tag team championships?" Mikey questions as he pulls out a cigar and lights it up.

"Losin' isn't a goddamn option. Our sights are set on claimin' those belts for ourselves. There's nobody who can stand in our way. I'm hungry. I know Gooch is hungry for some gold. There's only one thing left to do, it's time to eat." Pulling out his lighter and placing the cigarette between his lips, Knoxville strikes the roller, igniting the flame and burns the tip on his cigarette.

Mikey laughs for a moment as he takes a puff from his cigar. "I hear you, bro. I wish you nothing but the best."

Knoxville cracks a smile as he takes a drink from his beer and a slow drag from his cigarette. "I really appreciate that."

"So, is your little girlfriend in the match too?" Mikey says as he smiles.

Knoxville thinks to himself for another moment and takes a drink from his beer before tossing the empty bottle aside and grabbing another from the cooler beside them. "Yes, she is. Dude, I'm not so much worried about goin' into this match and winnin' it over the other competitors involved. Things are headed in the right direction with Niobe as of now. I'm not about to worry about myself when she's standing in the ring with me. Just like Gooch, if I have to sacrifice myself in order for her to keep fightin' in the ring then so be it."

Mikey finishes his beer as well and grabs another for himself. "Dude, I told you that you have to put your business first before any broad."

"I know, fuck it. This isn't the tag match at Rasslemania. This is just a pointless match before the big pay per view to fill the void. What do I get if I win, or anyone from Meltdown for that matter? Nothin' that I'm not doin' on my own as it is. I could care less about free handouts, I'm no charity case. My main priority Monday night is to look over Gooch and Niobe's back, simple as that. If I happen to be the last person standin' in the ring then hooray for me." Knoxville cracks the top to his beer and takes a drink as he exhales smoke from the cigarette through his nose.

"I thought you came back to the business to make a name for yourself. How are you going to do that when you don't care about big matches like this? Mikey asks as he looks Knoxville dead in the eye.

Knoxville laughs for a brief moment before responding. "That's exactly how I am goin' to make a name for myself. I've burned a lot of bridges along my travels. I've screwed over a lot of people in the process. I'm here to change the image of myself that gets left behind, the meaning of my name. People already know me for lookin' out only for myself. I'm not that guy anymore. Gooch and I are movin' on to bigger and better things. As for Niobe, only time will tell. For now, I'm goin' to do whatever I must to keep my arms around her. I would rather one of them win this rumble over myself. My time will come, you can believe that. Rasslemania is less than two weeks away."

Mikey nods his head in agreement before replying. "Brotherhood. I get it, bro. Gooch is your ally and Niobe is your old lady. It makes sense. Just be careful to look out for yourself when it comes to the ones closest to you."

"Seriously, look after myself? Gooch is a good ole' country boy who lives by the reputation he makes for his name. I'm not the least bit worried about him turnin' his back on me. Like I said, we have big things down the road waitin' for us." Knoxville takes a drink from his beer and a drag from his cigarette before putting it on.

"I wasn't talking about Gooch... or your little girlfriend for that matter. If I'm not mistaken, you have other friends in this match, right? Mikey leans back in silence as he waits for Knoxvilles reaction.

Knoxville realizes who Mikey is talking about as the thoughts race through his head. "Dude, that ship has sailed. I fucked him over a few years back with gold on the line. I don't need to worry about him gettin' close. If anything, he'll have a target on my back from the get go."

Mikey chuckles for a second. "So, what happens if it's you and him standing across from each other with no one else in the ring?"

"I'm not so much worried about Kash. I love the dude like a brother but we just don't see eye to eye. If I have to go through him to advance or protect the ones closest to me, consider it done. I know Kash better than anyone else in this business. I know his wrestlin' style just about as good as he knows it himself. Influence doesn't just cast it's shadow in his direction. There's two more of us who helped it find his ass. I'm as influential as he is on his best day. To say that the two of us have history would be an understatement. Our paths are bound to cross sooner or later in APW. When they do, it's goin' to be like two trains collidin'. The debris is goin' to stretch for miles and the cleanin' crew is goin' to be left dumbfounded like his febil-minded "jerkoff" buddy." Knoxville pauses and takes a big drink from his beer leaving an opening for Mikey.

"I didn't realize it was that bad for the two of you. I knew there was beef and history but you seem like you've only scratched the surface." Mikey implies as he takes a drink from his beer as well.

Knoxville shakes his head in agreement before answering. "You're exactly right. I've been around this guy ever since I stepped in the professional circuit. I've learned from him in the ring. We've defended ourselves against the masses. Now there's a possiblity that the two of us could square off Monday night. Fuck it, history or not, I'm not layin' down for this prick. As everyone else who's teamed with him, I've sat back in the shadow of his ego long enough. It's time for me to break out and step into the light once and for all. He thinks he can cast a big shadow? Pfft, he ain't seen nothin' yet. If I'm not mistaken, this guy couldn't stand next to Eddie Monroe's shadow years ago and fell to his feet with ease. If that's the case, then this will be a cake walk for me. Influence or not, I'm here to stay and take over. I'm not goin' to sit back and fall for false influence that Kash spits out like diarrhea of the mouth every single time he opens his cum-catcher."

Mikey's eyes widen as he listens on to Knoxville. He then interrupts. "Holy shit, dude! I'm sorry for bringing his name up and getting you worked up, bro. I had no idea the line was drawn in the sand as you just made so clear."

"It's really not. Like I said, I love him like a brother. We just have our differences. Who knows, maybe if I see someone about to toss his ass out of the ring I might step in and help. Then again, I might lend a helpin' hand to the person comin' after his ass. I honestly can't sit here and tell you what I would do without bein' in the ring and livin' it in reality. One thing I can tell you is this. If he comes at me, it's on. Forget the history, fuck the future. There's only two people I'm lookin' after Monday night and he sure as fuck ain't one of them." Knoxville stands to his feet quickly and finishes off his beer. He then throws it at the dumpster across the parking lot shattering it into hundreds of pieces as it crashes into the metal. Mikey then tosses him another as the scene slowly fades out.

[B.A. Styles]

Originally didn't want to post a RP, since I didn't fully want to be in this match...but here is a RP I wrote in 90 minutes, I hope you enjoy it. ^_^

---

“WHAT!?!”

That one word was shouted out from the kitchen of this massive. This kitchen is quite big with a lot of clean stuff like ovens, fridges, a freezer and even a microwave. But in the centre of this room is Megan McCrea, the purple haired woman known across Meltdown as the ‘Perfect Megastar’ Robina Hood, and her left hand was holding the mobile phone against her ear while her right hand was deeply clutching onto an iron. Clearly she was ironing some clothes before the phone went off because, right in front of her, is an ironing board with a shirt of some kind on it.

“YOU CAN’T EXPECT ME TO DO ENTER A FUCKING INVITATIONAL BATTLE ROYAL WHEN I NEVER VOLUNTEERED TO BE IN IT! SHIT!”

After screaming those words directly through the phone, the young Brit violently hung up the phone and, in a fit of rage, through the iron directly at the window. Expected or not the iron cracked through the window and into the back garden as the purple haired dynamo dropped down to her knees, both her hands stopped themselves halfway through her soft hair and began to utter negative things towards herself. Even though she have beaten the current North American Champion, Warren Peace, a few weeks ago the kind of lacklustre two months Megan have been suffering seem to have finally cracked in her psyche. In her dull grey vest and twilight black trousers, the cuts that pattern her underarm aren’t hidden at all as an out of shape male just entered the kitchen.

“I guess it’s safe to say that I’ll do my own ironing from now on.”

“Fuck off Chris…”

Megan hissed out towards the male for he is none other than Chris Middley. Chris is a semi-retired wrestler who haven’t competed in a match since twenty-eleven and is not only the person who trained her but also allowed the female to live in his mansion since, despite of the thirteen or so year difference, they are distant cousins. Being semi-retired for so long could kind of contribute to him being out of shape while he is bald and have two big rings piecing his jaw. The male gently held onto both of Megan’s wrists and softly got her up to her feet before asking her a question.

“Why not you tell me what is bothering you?”

“Because I told you to fuck off!”

With those words the teenage parent stubbornly sat back down on the floor but the male had other plans as this time he wrapped his massive arms around her waist and hoisted her back up to her feet before beginning to give her a firm hug. The Iron Maiden originally struggled, squirmed and shouted out curse after curse but eventually the female collapsed in this hug and began to cry. Even though only knowing of her existence two years ago Middley knew how emotionally, and mentally, unstable his young cousin could be…so he waited for a few minutes before politely repeating his earlier question. A more willing McCrea told him her entire story, from blundering against Niobe Martin to failing to protect her friend Sienna. At the end of her words Chris actually began to laugh, a little bit loudly, and this annoyed the Brit as she managed to squirm herself out of his arms.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh sorry, I just find it cute how you appear as heartless bitch yet you take such little incidents so personally.”

“These aren’t little…”

“Don’t worry about it Megan. You have a battle royal tomorrow and, even if you never invited yourself into this invitational match, you might as well go for it since…even if you lose…you’re still going to be at Rasslemania with the opportunity to hold a decently distinguished singles Championship, which I still haven’t done yet, and who knows? You might end up winning this match and earn the right to be drafted off to a bigger show like Asylum and Overdrive…”

“But I don’t want to go to these ‘bigger shows’ Chris…”

Those words caught the formerly known ‘Prince of Fear’ off-guard but before he could ask for an explanation, Robina began to give him one.

“I enjoy it here on Meltdown Chris…while the ending half of them haven’t gone the way I wanted them to, my clashes with Niobe have been so much fun. I enjoy my relationship with Sienna for she makes me feel important no matter how much of a slump I suffer. Yes people say I’m like her lapdog…but everyone has their own opinions and mine say that they can shove each and everyone of them up each of their own asses. Hell while half the reason for my unwillingness to shoot my own segments is due to the lack of time, the other reason is that I don’t have somebody using that as an excuse to take me away from the show that I need more than I’ve ever known before.”

Chris use to demonically disturbing, verbally abusive and even a maniacal predator but when he notice a tear leaving Megan’s left eye, near the end of her words, so his right hand shot out and wiped that tear away of that very eye before speaking up himself.

“There is no need to worry Megan, I’m sure no one will force you anywhere you don’t want to be anytime soon…especially considering that you could end up being the North American Champion by this time next Monday. So if you don’t know if you can win, or even want to win, then why not use this match as a typical last minute warm-up? Seriously, look at the dorks that you’ll be facing off against in this thirty person battle royal. The only claim to fame Leon Roberts will ever get is the fact he has the same first as that Kennedy guy in the Resident Evil video game series. Stefan Raab is so podgy that somebody mistaken him as two separate entries. Trevor Hyatt looks, sounds and competes like a misfit. Cid Phoenix is one of the competitors in your eight person North American Championship ladder match so it’ll definitely be worth eliminating him as soon as possible to make the statement of ‘I’m fucking better than you.’ Megan Andrews is forever going to be known as the big sister to that Angelina Jolie wannabe that my idiotic trainee somehow defeated. Johnny Rebel should stay on his own show since the only thing he protests against is good fashion sense.

This ‘GI’ chap sounds like a computer nerd so it won’t be worth paying any attention to him. Kevin Dalhia’s surname sounds exactly like the awkward burrito I had last night. Tommy Knoxville is most likely desperately looking for somebody to knock him out. Just like the Titanic, Jake is destined to sink during this match no matter what he or anyone else do. Guvnah, Guv’nor, Governor or whatever the fuck he wants to be called is simply a twat pretending to be tougher than what he really is, hell I bet if I make a one-off appearance on Meltdown that I can beat him…but he is another person in your title match so it will be worth kicking his ass, especially considering how he practically buried you in your first ever main event. Mister Dangerous…well…I know you’re going to enjoy eliminating him so much since he was Guv’nor’s partner when he kicked your ass. Warren Peace is the current APW North American Champion who’ve you not only beaten but instantly cried and complained about how you’ve worked alongside Young Mannie in that match, even though you’ve made it pretty clearly that you don’t even like the guy.

As for Jason Kash…he is probably going to be like Gangnam Style, everyone speak praises about him when he showed up but now are bored of him…so you’ll probably be doing EVERYONE a favour by specifically kicking his ass. Gooch is not only badly named but I think that a dildo looks twenty times more threatening than he’ll ever be. Amy Zing might an interesting gal since you did help her win at Survive and Conquer yet she kicked your ass last week while she’ll be yet another competitor in your title match. So maybe you exact revenge while sending a message for her, but considering she enjoys flying all over the place I think you can actually capitalise on one of her airborne move and eliminate her that way. As for Pat Stay…who the fuck is Pat Stay? Is he a newbie or something? Since I can’t find any information on him, even when I Google searched his name. the only thing anonymous about Annonomous are the embarrassed fans who cheer for him after he gets his ass handed to him. Delikado meanwhile reminds me of ‘The Stig’ with all the crappy and false trivial stuff about him, like how he played for an international football side during a past FIFA World Cup or that he is the oldest person upon whatever roster he happens to be on…actually the age thing might be true since the amount of grey hairs is shockingly easy to notice.

Level One might be an APW legend but I know that you have what it takes to show him that, all role-playing video games, level ones are simple scum that aren’t even worth batting an eyelid to. Young Mannie is the former North American Champion and he won’t even have a televised match at Rasslemania so there is no reason to pay attention to this berk so the sooner you eliminate him, specifically by throwing him on top of that pitiful Uncle Charlie, the better. Zeke Stokely is most likely a new nobody since I couldn’t find anything about him on Wikipedia. As for the two special guests from APW’s past goes…they’re better off gone since nobody missed them, neither do they care about their comeback and, if anything, they’re simply going to be there just to just a cheap pop before being thrown out like a piece of trash. As for Niobe Martin…yet another competitor in your ladder match at Rasslemania but I must admit that, while you consider Sienna as someone who made you feel important, this blonde practically made you…”

Even though originally distraught about her mind tormenting her, the Last Martyr couldn’t help but giggle at the numerous shots Middley made at the other members of this battle royal. Even though serious at some points the male chose to be funny at certain points but when he mentioned her former archenemy the female tried to speak up in an attempt to deny his words.

“Wait a second…”

“Please don’t interrupt me. Niobe Martin calls herself a nightmare and she practically made you into the vindictive bitch that the fans hate and fear at the same time, while you’ve made Niobe truly worthy of the ‘Nightmare’ moniker that she gave herself years ago. I know your street fight was built up as the whole ‘end of a feud’ thing but I thing your war isn’t over yet…I think it’ll end at Raslemania when one of you two somehow beat the odds, climb up a ladder and win the North American Championship. So, to give yourself a little edge, you need to make eliminating Niobe your top priority just so you can possibly have the last laugh over the person you’ve been brutally feuding with throughout January and February…got it?”

“…Yeah, I got it Chris…”

It took Megan a while to finally make a response to her cousin’s somewhat encouraging words, realising that he is trying to give her a target or some sort even though she doesn’t believe in her own ability to win this match. Even though her self-doubt was obvious, Middley smiled lightly at Megan since his cousin is now feeling better than she did when he spotted her on the floor.

“That’s good…even if you lose, as long as you enjoy the outing you won’t regret a single thing…maybe we should go out and have an ice-cream.”

After Miss Hood enthusiastically nodded to her Chris’ suggestion since she absolutely love having an ice-cream, even more than lighting a cigarette or drowning her sorrows away, before the two cousin pulled out a pair of magnums out of the fridge, dark for Chris and white for Megan. After unwrapping the ice-cream the two began to peacefully have them together.

[Leon Roberts]

~Leon's POV~

It was all to easy. I knew Megan Andrews stood no chance against me. I may not have felt her up much, but that's because in the end, I knew I would get some anyways.

But what was that to the challenge I must face next? Not a damn thing in comparison. I got twenty nine cocksuckers to toss around, all to move brands and get a title shot. Not a bad deal if you ask me, considering it's mostly for the Meltdown roster.

Though I guess when dad heard about that, he insisted I visit his day job as a wrestling trainer. Why is it relevant? I dunno. Much like most things, I really don't care whatsoever.

I walk into the gym. Mid afternoon and I see some of the students practicing their drills. One really lazy and cocky individual is just hanging about. If there is one thing I can't stand, is somebody who's cocky and not earned it. After seeing that kid's demeanor, i practically rip the doors off. There goes my weed induced high.

Randy: Oh, Leon. You arrived. Alright boys, in the ring.

All the students all stopped what they were doing, and immediately got in the ring as fast as they could. Except for that lazy kid. He took his time. I scowled, before I approached him.

Leon: What are you doing?

Kid: Nothing.

Leon: Exactly. Now get in that fucken ring!

Kid: Whatever.

Okay, if there is one thing that nobody should do, is talk to me like that. It's infuriating. So because of my quick trigger anger, and my devil may care attitude, I grab the boy, and toss him in the ring, as I climb in myself. The boy scowled at me, but I smirked.

Leon: Alright dad. So what did the almighty outlaw want my presence for?

Randy: Well good thing you ask. See this is not a normal lesson. It's also a good way to prep you for your next match. That being said, I want you maggots to look upon success, ferocity, ruthlessness, and passion, all defined into one person. My eldest son, and my ultimate prodigy. Former world champion, and current APW wrestler, Leon 'The Virus' Roberts.

The majority of the students did clap. Good to know I do have a following. I'd feel bashful, except such emotions are beneath me. After a minute, the applause died down.

Randy: Now. He's got a royale rumble type match coming up in his next match. His job, is to eliminate all of you. Your job maggots, is to eliminate him. This match will stop when Leon is the last man, or is simply eliminated. However, we'll be doing this in five intervals. Meaning five of you face Leon. However, after a couple minutes, another five will enter. Got it?

Students: SIR YES SIR!

Interesting. This is indeed a good way to push myself. I smirk, knowing this was a good challenge. All but five leave the ring. Dad and I remain in.

Leon: Did I ever tell you how much I appreciate you do for me old man.

Randy: Not enough son. Truly not enough.

Leon: Naturally. But let's get the fun started.

Dad nodded. I could see the five students get ready. They looked serious enough. Dad left the ring, and rang the bell. They all came at me.I kicked one down, but a couple jumped on me. But using my strength, I tossed them out. One of them tried to dropkick me over. I was impressed by how powerful it was. I got me against the rope. One other tried to clothesline me, but I tossed him over the top rope, followed by the other guy.

From there, the excitement took over. Going mostly on instinct and whatnot, as I fought against the rest of them, as they came in. And they all gave it their all to try to eliminate me. I think these kids could be worth something, in about ten years.

But my adrenaline high was cut short, as one of the kids decided to give me a low blow. Even though I am more then just a man, i am still sensitive down there. As I place my hands over there in pure pain, I looked over, to see that it was that one lazy arrogant kid. He grabbed me, and tossed me over the rope. But I held on.

He had his fucken back turned, so I got back in, and clotheslined him. I then began to stomp on him. I picked him up and gave him a hellbound chokeslam. But I wasn't done.

Randy: What are you doing?

Leon: I'm going to whoop this boy's ass into shape!

With that, he got up. I began to attack him with more of a strike arsenal, in comparison to my usual power brawl and technical style. I wasn't holding back, so I heard bones crack. It especially felt satisfying when I felt his nose break against my fist. He was backed into a corner.

Leon: You made this personal. That's why you are in such pain. In the inevitable apocalypse, you'd be left for dead instantly. You've proven you're not worthy of being a wrestler. Though a character....well you got that right. But that's only part of the battle. Here's the rest of it.

I let my anger, my rage, my need to inflict pain, all gather into my right fist. With everything I had, I punched the boy, square in the chest. It was so powerful, it knocked him over the top rope instantly. He wasn't bleeding from the mouth, but he had felt the full effect of my signature punch, the Diablo's claw.

Dad rang the bell, and came in, looked at me with an amused look on his face. I saw the rest of the students liked what I did.

Randy: You did good. But remember this. They're still new. What you're going up against soon, is different. And while that kid may have gotten a bit more then what I would normally approve, he had it coming.

Leon: Of course old man. Of course.

The kid, who was now limping, glared at me. I smirked, as I left the ring, and put him in a headlock. I kept the pressure up, and I brought him closer to my face, just so I could talk to him.

Leon: Listen kid. This ain't something that you can just skim through. See kid, this is a rough, nasty lifestyle. Everything has to be executed right, and everyone has to know how to take more then what they give. I'll give you credit, you'd have the heel character down right, but not the skill, nor passion. Not the first time I heard about you. So do yourself a favour. Take my old man seriously. If you want it bad enough, and learn everything from him, like I did, then you'll go places for sure. Just remember...people like you, who think they know wrestling moves, without proper training, that just pisses off all of us who are there, and train you. And we will put you through the ringer, just like I did.

I let go of the kid, as he collapsed onto the apron. I didn't bother helping that punk up. Why should I? I wasn't given any help aside from lessons. Tough love is a bitch you have to learn to accept.

All of a sudden, I felt a powerful twinge. I knew exactly what it was. A summoning, of sorts. So with that I leave my dad's gym, knowing full well I had drilled an important lesson into that punk's head.

About fifteen minutes later, I had arrived back at the house. I immediately went downstairs. Definitely the quietist place in the house. Once I was alone, I sat down, and began to meditate.

In my meditative state, I found myself inside an all to familiar place. Hell. I know it all to well. Dark, and depressing, with erupting from the ground. But the specific part, is barely illuminated. My mind is only there, but it's still all to real. I even see the one who brought me back to life, from those bullets, so I could spread the message of chaos, all around. Lucifer.

Lucifer: About time, my boy.

Leon: It's been a few years since you've contacted me. What do you want?

Lucifer: Well to congratulate you thus far on what you've done, for one thing. Making lives miserable, ending careers, causing addicts to appear, and general havoc. I knew you would have no problem doing so. And secondly...what's taking so damn long on some of it?

Leon: Like I care how fast you want it all done.

Lucifer: I had plans in place!

That kinda surprised me. Lucifer is not one to blow a gasket so easily. Good to know that i can piss the devil off, which means I'm better then him. Logically speaking. But I do see him calming down, as he collects himself.

Lucifer: I had plans all in place. I wanted you to cause havoc and destruction, to the point where the gates of hell would open up on a specific day.

Leon: Let me guess. December twenty first, twenty twelve?

Lucifer: Exactly. And because you failed, i'll have to continue to wait.

Leon: It will happen. You need not worry. In fact, I have a good opportunity to cause some havoc soon. To toss a bunch of fuckers around, likely breaking their bones in the process. But yes. Everyone is realizing that their so called 'Gods' are useless, and thus, they are becoming more liberal. I had a fun time watching the Eaton center get shot up, then the Dark Knight Rises Massacre. And to cap it off, the Conneticut shooting. While I didn't exactly do those, there is no doubt that our influence had something to do with it.

Lucifer: And you would be right. Just make sure you do keep winning, and causing pain.

Leon: Is that all you wanted me for? You've wasted my time.

Lucifer then began to chuckle. A chuckle that can easily rival my own. Then again, that is likely where I got it from in the first place. But unlike most people when they ear it from him, I am not the least bit impressed, or scared.

Lucifer: You forget Leon. Your life is in my hands. It always has been. And if that's not enough, what of your family?

Leon: Keep them out. I never said I wasn't going to stop. I just don't like having my time wasted,especially when I could be doing whatever the fuck I want.

Lucifer: Good to know. That is all for now.

Leon: Good. Now leave me alone.

With that, I forced myself out of the meditation I was in. It caused hell to fade out, as I was slowly waking up. Once fully awake, I stretched out, before setting things up. I had planned to shoot on some of my opponents regardless of what happened today.

Though now I do remember something. something that eerily reminds me of what I once did in the past. an experiment. A rather good one to. With the amount of people, it does seem like it, at least now that I think about it. Anyways, once everything was in place, I began to shoot.

Leon: Well ladies and gentlemen, we are now at a heavily hyped, non pay per view event, the Meltdown Rumble. It's an event that the devil's general, AKA me, is going to be apart of. And when I look at it, it's interesting. In a way, it almost reminds me of a really weird, but cool experiment I once did.

See this experiment involved changing the very nature of an animal. Could it be done? Well yes indeed it could be. Sure you can try to domesticate a wolf, or even other truly exotic animals. But this one...I wanted to prove an old theory true. By making an animal, go cannibal.

But before I explain this, I will tell everyone why it pertains to here. We are all vying for one prize. And in most cases, alliances will be made, and partnerships, easily broken. We all digging in, tearing and slashing, tossing and shoving, all to get something worthwhile. And while some from Overdrive and Asylum will be joining us, it's starring the Meltdown roster.

Of course, back to the experiment. See, my grandfather once had a nasty rat infestation over at his cottage, down in Texas. I spent the summer there when it happened. He refused to call an exterminator, but still got the infestation taken care of. See he found out what they ate. These particular rats had a liking for apples. So he lured them all together, with a trail of apple slices, into one barrel, big enough to fit them.

Upon that, he sealed it away, for about two weeks. The stench was fucken awful, but eventually, we saw the result. My siblings, and I, plus my grandfather, saw exactly what happened. The rats, in order to survive, had become cannibal. Ate each other, until only bare bones were left. In the end, only two rats were left. Did he kill them? Nope. He simply let them loose. But did they try to eat the vast amount of apples that had grown on the property? They didn't. Instead, they went after each other, until there was only one last rat standing.

By doing what my grandfather did, he had effectively changed the very nature of those rats. As an act f mercy, we killed the last rat, just to not risk another infestation.

But what does this all mean? Well in simpler terms, we humans, are very much like that. When you relocate a certain race, they learn to adapt, for the most part. But we've been more like those rats, then before that barrel of rats became cannibal. We have all wanted dominance over the rest, even influencing wars, just to proverbially eat each other to death. And for thousands of years, we've been doing that, though not entirely in violent ways, but in creative, convincing ways.

But the mere musing of such events has led me to believe, that we are indeed dealing with each other, like those rats did. We'll tear into each other, until there is only one left standing, as the last survivor, and ultimately, the victor. And there are alot of rats for me to personally dig into.

The first rat, is my tag team partner, Jake Titan. Man, you are one crazy, fucked up individual. And only an individual like yourself, is worthy to carry my things, make sure nobody strikes me down, and do whatever I order you to do. And that's all what you're good at. Being my proverbial, personal bitch. And thus, should I face you, just get yourself eliminated, for what can you do against me. Don't forget, I have power over you, and I will make sure to use it to full extent. But I am glad you're learning at a half decent rate. You might be worthy to fight me one on one, one of these days. Perhaps in a couple years. But even though I might rip into you, I want to see how far you've progressed under mine and dad's guidance. So I know we have each other's best interests, and will work together to eliminate the rest, even though you winning against me now is hopeless.

Now I move onto one of the Killaz's next opponents, in Buckson Gooch. You and I have faced off before, and we will again at Rasslemania. I will simply tell you that what happened, won't happen again. You will not knock me out, for if you use that same kick on me again, I will break both knees of yours. With those knees, you're a workhorse. I admire that to a certain extent. Doesn't change the fact you're one of the ugliest fucken inbreeds i've ever had to come across. Going back to your knees, if you don;t have them, then how are you able to do anything. Your power game will be reduced to nothing, ad you have no proper base to support. Your razorback kick has many flaws to it, should a wrestling master, like myself, see it. I have, and I will exploit the weakness. You best better stay out of my way if you want to fight at Rasslemania, because I plan to cripple your ass, without any fucken hesitation.

There is one thing in the rumble that surprised me a bit. We have Warren Peace from Sky Hi-I mean the North American Champ, in the rumble. I am surprised. But out of everyone, after doing some digging, I found that his past was full of manipulation and deviant ambitions, all to screw over his own father. With that, I must say, I like your style Warren. A devious man, who's only goal is to fuck over one person. Well you've certainly done that. But why stop there? Why become a good guy? Being a guy who fights for justice will cause you to become soft. Fighting to cause havoc, to be the bad guy...well that just makes people like us, more powerful. Why? Because we don't follow the rules. We eliminate them. So while you might be a champion now, you've grown soft. Thus I don't see you as what you can be. That's the Warren Peace I want to eventually fight. This...sham...this...pathetic waste of space...won't be around much. You can try to justify it, but you'll only be wasting your time, and ultimately, my time. And I don't like my time being wasted. Bad things will happen to those who do.

But, moving on from that sham, there is the Guv'nor. What the fuck is up with that shit? Guv'nor? That's....just fucked up name if I ever heard, stage or not. Well either way, it doesn't matter. From what I understand, you and I share a similar past. Having to grow up on the streets, fighting, to survive. The only difference is, is a point I brag about, and that is fourteen bullets. Fourteen bullets through my body in one shooting,and I lived to become the hellraiser that I am today. But what about you? Have you even been shot once? Unlikely. You're not defiant like I am. You simply do what your told to stay out of trouble. Why do that, when you can be the source of trouble. Heh. Pathetic, is what you are in the end man. Would be interesting to see how good you actually are, but I highly doubt you'll be worth anything. At least not of my time.

I pause just for a second. Fuck me, that was indeed a long time of taking a break. But all of this, is just coming out of me like a bloody waterfall, and I'm loving each second of it.

Leon: Now let's move on to some other people. Like a simple man, that is Trevor Hyatt. A man trying to prove himself to b his own man, and not in the shadows of anyone else. Well that's 'simply' a bold choice, but 'simply' not going to happen when he 'simply' faces off against me. I am 'simply' going to give him what's coming. A beatdown, and a toss over the top rope. Why should I be scared of somebody who's got something to prove? We all do. Even those who claim they are gods. So Trevor...I don't see how you could be better then me. I'll admit to being wrong in the past, but I have always eliminated those mistakes. So really Trevor. Surprise me, I beg of you. I want somebody to get my attention, because I want to show APW exactly what I am when I get to cut loose. Natural Born Killa ain't just a title...it's a fact.

Oh, but speaking of gods, Level One is in the rumble. An apparent legend in APW. What happened then? Did you lose your balls along the way, or did you cut them off yourself, and personally stuck them into the purse of Terry Marvin? Seems that way. Level...from my understanding, you were once the top dog. A bitch who never shut the fuck up, but still apparently top dog. Something I will be taking for myself. But then, you simply faded, until you aligned yourself to Terry Marvin, in order to make yourself relevant, because you wanted the backing of a God. Well ever thought that maybe 'God' means something else. Maybe you do like to kiss the ass of a 'Geriatrich, Obscene, Douchebag', because according to Terry Marvin, that's exactly what he is. He's not some mythical super being. That belongs to me, and me alone. I am no God, and I refuse to be one. I am more then a fucken God. I am a fucken God slayer. So you better tell Terry, that should I meet you, or him, the result will be nothing short of a massacre, courtesy, of the hell general.

But enough of that obnoxious piece of crap, and the other piece of shit that he follows. There are others in the rumble that are in there. A few bitches, a few ladies, a few past names, and a couple of jobbers. No big deal. One lady in particular, calls herself the nightmare. Well Nioble, as that is your real name...what have you done to prove any fucken nightmare to anyone? Certainly not me. I don't see how you can cause that, at least in comparison to me. So if you think for one second, that i will back down from you...well you saw what happened to Megan Andrews. The same fate lies for all of the ladies of APW. Quick defeat, and the possibility of the ride of your fucken lives.

That also goes out to Zing, Hood, Andrews, and whatever set of fake tits that decided to enter. All you ladies belong in the hell's harem. And I'll admit, as one of the absolute, horniest, sex craving, bloodthirsty names out there, APW has the second best batch of ladies i've ever had to opportunity to see. The number one, is of course, my goddess, Demonica.

I chuckle, upon finishing that thought. It was the absolute truth. The only woman I found worth marrying, had to be more beautiful then anything else a literal sex and hottness goddess. Heh. Charlie Sheen ain't got nothing on me, in comparison to everything I've done. Goddess, and drugs, and everything inbetween.

Leon: But enough about the varied competition. Most are weak, and some, I do look forward to, but only to a certain extent. There is one, that I'll admit, is impressive. Cid Phoenix. A man who I have seen as somebody I want to face. No gimmicks, just truth. To accompany that, is a vast array of technical ability, and a well rounded out arsenal. It's not often I give praise, such as this, towards anyone. So take it for what it's worth, because you will be treated the same as everyone else. I will crush you like a worthless bug, just because you're in my way of victory.

However, after looking over all the others that are in there, one last time, I must say, out of all of them, one has got to be the biggest letdown. Young Mannie, to be exact. Here was this one guy, who was the North American champion, and got drafted to one of the higher shows. Yet he's never appeared on them, and also lost his title. Good for him trying to get it back, but since he failed, where does that leave that chihuahua? Doing fuck all. You're not as big as you think. You're the only one buying into your own fucken hype. And much like your reign as the North American Champion, you will fail here at the rumble, regardless if you are eliminated by me, or not. Of course, the others in the rumble will share that same failure, so don't feel to bad. Well, maybe you should, because that's all you really are Mannie. A colossal failure.

I stop there, to take another quick breath. I have said all I wanted to say about potential opponents, but not of what needs to be said in the end.

Leon: And so, we come back to our original point. A gathering of wrestlers, all vying to win this rumble. With this rumble win, comes a world title shot to any brand that the winner wants to be on. It's something I want so badly. I want to show the entire fucken world just exactly what is about to be unleashed. I will become a world champion once again. And the journey to that, begins on Metldown.

It doesn't matter who you are. A couple of rednecks, a couple of half decent prospects, a few pairs of fake tit cocksuckers, shams, failures in life, or even those who are returning, like Amy Zing. In fact, I think Zing should have stayed out for a while, because she won't get her comeback she wants. She'll get the cum, but not the back.

I could go on and on about the rest of the roster, ranging from Delkado, to Knoxville, Mr Dangerous, Kevin Dalhia, and Jason Kash. Regardless of who you all are, only one shall win. And even though the Killaz will be against each other, we know it can only be one of us who can take the win. So even though we won't need to, we'll make sure nobody is in our way. But it doesn't matter, as I am the omega rat. As the omega rat, I will feast upon the flesh of everyone that is in my path, as I am indeed one hungry motherfucker! I will eliminate everyone in my path. I will not be held down. I am the great Canadian Devil. I am the ultimate nightmare, to the darkest parts of everyone's soul. I am the definition of sin.

I....AM.....THE VIRUS!

[warrenpeace]

3-18-13, online world of wrestling presents an in depth look into the mind of the man revolutionizing the industry of professional wrestling.

Article title: War(ren) and Peace

I can remember very few details concerning my whereabouts in the year 2011. The most important aspect of my life had been my arrival on the scene of this wonderful website.

It was my first big job as a journalist after finishing college and I was overjoyed at the opportunity. I covered many matches, promos, segments and the like from many, if not all of the major wrestling promotions in the world.

About halfway through the year of 2011, I believe it was around October I began focusing on the the state of tag team wrestling as a whole. In most of my articles I brought attention to the fact that most companies just weren't calling enough attention to the tag team division and that the art was possibly dead.

Just as I had lost all hope in ever seeing an exciting tag team division ever again two kids arrived in the house that President Hurricane Jeff built, Action Packed Wrestling, and set the tag team division on fire.

Those "Kids" were Jay Gatsby and Warren Peace. Two kids of wrestling legends who were out to show their fathers what they could do. They called themselves the "Unfortunate Son's", which was an Ironic title of their team on many levels.

Firstly, Jay Gatsby the son of promoter and former world champion Chris Brock is a prime example of being born with a golden spoon in your mouth. He was a rich kid who liked flaunt his family's wealth, a typical school bully jock with a letterman jacket, fast sports car and a slew of girls begging to take a ride.

Sounds pretty fortunate to me right? Wrong, see even though he had everything his heart desired, he wanted more, he wanted to follow in his fathers footsteps and compete in the squared circle. Chris Brock was not keen on the idea, he never believed his son was right for the sport. And this created a chip on Gatsbys shoulder that eventually led him to Warren Peace.

Warren Peace has always been very open about his roots. He was the result of a one night stand encounter between his mother and a world champion, and tag team partner of Chris Brock. In fact Warren's father is Jay Gatsbys Godfather. Warren's mother struggled for many years to keep him fed and clothed, sometimes working as many as three jobs a day just to make ends meet.

Warren was a scrapper, and street smart, he had to be to survive the ghettos of Pittsburgh. He spent many years of his life fighting for survival.

Eventually, Warren learned who his father was and sought him out. Warren was rejected by the man for an entire year until a paternity test revealed that Warren was in fact his son.

Despite this his father never paid any back child support or made any attempt to reach out to Warren. Eventually Warren, nearing his 18th birthday asked his father to train him to wrestle, and he obliged.

One would assume that this story would take a turn for the better, a father and son bonding over sport. However Warren had an agenda.

He had decided that the sport of professional wrestling was to blame for his troubled upbringing, that his father was such a deadbeat because of being a professional wrestler, so Warren decided he would poison the industry from the inside out.

Warren and Jays fathers got together and decided to put them together as a tag team. using their names and reputations that they scored their sons a job at APW.

Now that they were, trained and employed it was time for these "(Un)fortunate Sons" to take the business by storm.

APW had their fair share of tag teams, they weren't exactly blazing any trails with the division either. There were a few stable teams like the Red Shield mafia and the Sea Gulls but beyond that the division didn't have much of an identity.

That all changed with the (un)Fortunate sons. They burst on the scene unknowns attacking tag teams from behind, in the back. They made it clear that they were here for one thing.

Destruction.

And my god did they mean it. They spent their first few months tearing the APW apart systematically trying to kill the business that their fathers loved so much.

They had some brief, but memorable feuds, most notably with the seagulls. Each week we learned more and more about these two unknown kids and despite using less than fair tactics to gain victories, they were commanding respect.

They worked well together, and nefarious antics or not that's exactly what a tag team must do. Mesh with each other, think as one. And with Warren Peace's mastermind plans of assault they fought their way their way to a tag team title match at Christmas Chaos.

Tag team wrestling had finally become something to keep an eye on again, because everyone was clamoring to see the sons would do next and if anyone would finally get the upper hand on them and put them in their place.

Then the night of Christmas Chaos came and Warren Peace shocked the world by attacking his own tag team partner and winning the tag team titles by himself.

An incredible feat for sure, but one that left everyone with many questions. Why would Warren turn on his partner? What would become of the tag team title belts? What was next for Warren Peace?

Warren brought in another partner, a former EWC competitor to be his new tag team partner, but in their first match together Warren again attacked his partner and carried the belts alone.

During this time the tag division had a full resurgence and a hot new team, managed by wrestling legend Biggs, was on Warren's tail. The Studmuffins were quite impressive and won the tag team championships from Warren soon after he decided to carry them alone.

But that didn't stop Warren at all. He had tied with the Quintessentially English Julius Farqhar for rising Star of the year and was moving to the Asylum brand to compete as a singles competitor.

However, after the move to Asylum Warren had difficulties finding his niche in singles competition and making matters worse he was in a severe motor vehicle accident. His car, was struck by a mack truck. Eventually due to complications from the accident Warren Peace disappeared on the injured reserve and was almost terminated.

Then in late 2012 Warren Peace came out of nowhere and returned to the APW. Competing on Meltdown he seemed to have finally hit his stride a singles competitor and any complications and injuries from the car accident were non existent.

In a few short months of competing on as part of the Meltdown brand Warren has once again captivated audiences and silenced his critics.

He is now the current, reigning North American champion and is less than two weeks away from defending the championship title at Rasslemania in an eight person ladder match.

Some champions may be fearful of the outcome of such a match, but Warren isn't your run of the mill megastar. He is a warrior and is looking forward to the match.

In fact he is such an iron willed competitor that just a week before his big ladder match at APW's biggest pay per view of the year, Warren had signed up to be part of the Meltdown Rumble match.

After two long years of watching this man change the sport I finally had the opportunity to speak with him. The following interview was one of the most sincere moments of my career and I want to thank Warren for both his honesty and patience, and for allowing me to be be a true journalist and ask him tough questions.

The room was very flat and dull. An A typical waiting room, some chairs, a couch and old cooking and sports illustrated magazines with outdated articles.

Warren sat patiently awaiting, for what he was not quite sure. His time in Canada had been very travel heavy and the words of the former North American champion Young Mannie were now ringing in his head.

Young Mannie had stressed that Warren wasn't championship material because he clearly wasn't the type of person who could keep up with media appearances and press dates.

Warren hadn't thought much of it at the time, but the fact of the matter is, for once Young Mannie was correct. Warren, being champion for just a few weeks was aching to return to Pittsburgh for some rest and relaxation and to be far away from the radio phone calls, and press junkets.

But, that would be an easy out for him and however tedious these appearances were they were key in spreading his word. A prime way to reach out to the people.

As he contemplated these things, the receptionist called his name. and directed him down the hallway to the office of the man who would conduct this interview. Warren stepped as lightly as possible taking his time. The hallway was filled with framed photos of wrestlers from decades past, champions, cards, photos with other famous people.

He knocked a few times on the door and opened without an answer. He stepped into office and the journalist stood up, almost leaping out of his swiveling chair to greet him at the door. They shook hands and he lead Warren to his chair in front of the desk, they sat down.

At first Warren didn't hear him speak, he continued gaze about the room at the framed photos and posters. He noticed an old photo from a few years ago of Warren with both APW tag team championships resting on either shoulder.

Interviewer: I have to say that I am very happy to have you hear today. I have followed your career from the start.

Warren: Thank you. It's flattering.

Interviewer: Well, you started competing at the same time I was hired here and so I have always felt a kind of kinship.

He nodded his head lightly, at the journalist.

Interviewer: Well Warren, I know that you are a very busy man so why don't we move this along and get you out of here as soon as possible.

Warren: However you want to do this. It's your show. Just be gentle.

Interviewer: Well, that I cannot guarantee. You see Warren, one of the reasons I admire you so much, is because you are never afraid to say exactly what's on your mind. You're fearless when speaking your mind, and I have the same attitude about my stories. I am brutal. Because that's the only way to tell a proper story.

Warren: Ok then I will do my best.

Interviewer: I am just looking for honesty.

Warren: Then you're talking to the right guy, so lets begin.

Interviewer: I know that you are not a fan of repetition. I understand that you do not like to dwell on the past.

Warren: Right, right the past is boring.

Interviewer: Regardless of that you have a very interesting origin that we would all like to learn more about. How old was your mother when she got pregnant with you?

Warren: 18.

Interviewer: Did she ever see your father again?

Warren: Not to my knowledge. I would like to say it was a simple one night stand, but of course that wasn't the case and it wouldn't make it right. You see she was lured into bed with promises of a fancy life and a future with a champion professional wrestler. And once he got what he wanted she had to walk of shame all the way back to Pittsburgh.

Interviewer: Did she encourage you to seek out your father?

Warren: Honestly, no man she didn't have time to. She worked three, four jobs at a time. Small, part time jobs, undignified work. She busted her ass off to keep a roof over my head, but beyond that there was never really a relationship. We didn't talk or whatever. She did her thing, and I sort of did mine, and every once in a while those things would overlap.

Interviewer: Sounds like it was a very lonely childhood.

Warren: Sure.

Interviewer: At what age did you decide to seek out your father?

Warren: I was sixteen years old, and was just kind of tried of the scene.

Interviewer: Your neighborhood?

Warren: Yeah man, I mean I love my roots. They define me. I come from the hardest working city in America, but being a teenager in a the ghetto has so many damn downsides that I just wanted out and I was desperate enough to escape that life that I decided that it was time to find my dad.

Interviewer: He wasn't receptive though?

Warren: He told me to piss off, that I wasn't his kid and he wasn't paying for me. Hell, he wanted nothing to do with me even after the paternity test until I said I wanted to wrestle. Then he finally came around to training me. It was the only thing he cared about. The business was his only love, and I would not be surprised to find out that I have some half brothers or sisters out there who were the result of other one night stands of his.

Interviewer: You hated wrestling, because your father loved it. So why go through the trouble of training? We all know you wanted to kill the sport from within, why? Why dedicate your life to it?

Warren: Because, I felt wronged. Because I grew up on the streets getting my ass kicked every day because I bought my clothes from the thrift store, because I couldn't afford nice things. Because I watched, and still watch my mother work herself nearly to death because he tricked her into one night of mistakes. I hated that man, I still do, and it was so strong that I thought the only way to ever get back at him would be to destroy the sport he loves.

Interviewer: Clearly that didn't pan out. Now that you have been in the business for a few years, and have reached a certain level of success do you understand your father? Can you understand why he would do some of the things he did?

Warren: Absolutely not. There is no just reason to trick women into bed, and even less reason not to take care of your kids. Too many wrestlers live a rock and roll lifestyle. booze, drugs, sex, and these are not my ways. As it turned out I am pretty damn good at this wrestling thing. I didn't expect to still be here, I didn't expect to be carrying a championship title, or let alone be a multi time champ. But I decided when I was sitting at home resting up from my car accident that maybe killing the sport was the wrong approach. That changing things, and giving the kids a proper hero was the way to go about this.

Interviewer: And the Warren Peace was born? The face, smiling good guy.

Warren: In a sense, if you want to generalize me in such a manner. I prefer to think that I quit being a villain, and became the hero. There's too many bad guys out there. It's easy to fight for yourself, but fighting for others although difficult is way more dignified.

Interviewer: It wasn't easy winning the people over at all for you was it?

Warren: No, that took some hard work. You can't blame them though. Everyone knew me as the guy who attacked opponents from behind, attacked tag partners, called the audience mindless zombies and constantly hurled insults their way. I wouldn't like me either. There are still people who think that my current "character" is a front and that I really have dubious intentions and plan to swerve everyone with an evil plot?

Interviewer: Do you have an evil plot?

Warren: If I did, I wouldn't reveal it yet.

Interviewer: How did it feel to win the North American Championship?

Warren: It felt great. It was vindication, validation, instant gratification. You see since I returned to APW and have been competing on Meltdown there have been a ton of nay sayers, people Amy Zing and Robina Hood, Young mannie as well. People who doubted me and claimed that i didn't deserve to even have a shot at the the title.

People said I wasn't good enough and yet here I sit in front of you with this championship and it's mine. My name will forever be etched in the history books and the fact of the matter is they are all jealous. And what amazes me is that since I won the title all of the doubters and haters now claim that I am next big thing, that the sky is the limit. All of the detractors who just weeks ago claimed I didn't deserve my spot now all claim that I am the fastest rising megastar on the roster.

That is the type of hypocrisy that sickens me. I know what I am capable of, I am fully aware of my talents, and I was out there proving it every week. Don't be jumping on a bandwagon, there's no room for phonies like that in the revolution.

Interviewer: Your revolution, how far has it come? How far will it go? Where does it end? Will you ever be satisfied?

Warren: My intentions are very simple. I have been looking at this circus act for a long time and just hated what these people have turned it into. Loud music, smoke machines fire works, flashing lights. Booze, drugs, fornication, lying cheating stealing. That's what professional wrestling has become and there are thousands of children in the arenas each and every week. hundreds of thousands of children with impressionable minds that are being brainwashed into thinking that these debaucheries are acceptable.

I am tired of women being subjected to sex symbols and forced into situations where they have to enhance their bodies and do things behind the curtain to even make a buck. I am tired of general managers who abuse their power to enforce their agenda and keep this machine moving along in the disgusting direction.

I want a wholesome product that we can sell to family's. I want our champions to have class and respect. That is the revolution. It doesn't end until it makes its way to the top. Until each and every bit of the infrastructure of this business changes I will still be there fighting the good fight. I will never be satisfied until I give the people what they deserve.

Interviewer: You're currently on Meltdown. You are carrying your brands title, arguably you have done everything you can do on meltdown. Are you hoping to be drafted soon?

Warren:I think I still have a lot to accomplish on meltdown. I still have yet to defend the North American championship. I have yet to beat Amy Zing, Robina Hood owes me a win back. However, you're absolutely right. I promised change and it's happened. After Rasslemania Meltdown will change forever and it is time to move on. I cannot be contained to Meltdown forever, I have to take the revolution elsewhere.

Which is why I am participating in the rumble just a week before my match at Rasslemania. because this is a huge opportunity to move up to one of the main brands on my own terms. This isn't a draft, it's a battle with a title shot on the line and that is not something to be taken lightly.

This is an opportunity to step into the ring with Jason Kash, and Level One. People who are revered for their abilities, legends. This is an opportunity to prove that I am not only the best wrestler on meltdown, but I am the best competitor that this company has to offer.

In 2011 they said that the (un)fortunate sons wouldn't win the tag team titles, and I did it own my own. in 2012 they said that the rising star of 2011 had faded and become a has been, and two weeks ago all of those people saw me win the North American Championship.

and now I plan to continue to carry that momentum to the Rumble. I will go out there and beat the meltdown superstars, like I usually do. And I will embarrass the Asylum and Overdrive guys. I will dump all of these anonymous special guests from APWs past on their heads with peace makers.

I will defeat them because I despite my success I still have way to much to prove. I aim to be to the top dog here, I cannot lead a revolution forever on the C-brand and I cannot set an example without being the number one face of the company.

I will win the rumble earn a spot on the main roster, take my title shot and then one week later at rasslemania I will defeat my seven opponents in a ladder match and continue to reign over them, leading the revolution and go on to become the most dominant, polarizing and encompassing, awe inspiring megstar of all time.

Interviewer: What makes you so confident that you are capable of doing all of this? The odds are stacked so high against your favor.

Warren: I am a survivor. I am a blue collar fighter from the streets of Pittsburgh. There is nothing that these megastars can throw at me that I haven't already dealt with in one form or another.

Interviewer: It still comes off as a ridiculously high level of confidence. There are some amazing competitors.

Warren: Lets get something straight, these people are coming to my show to compete in my ring. I am not afraid of the Delikados, Jason Kashs, Level Ones because they are coming to my turf, they are the ones who have to prove that they can hang with me.

Interviewer: Where do you see yourself in one year?

Warren: Multi time Undisputed champion of the APW. Leader of a revolution the next generation of megastar, blazing a trail of success unmatched by any previous wrestler who had come before me.

Interviewer: You certainly have all of the potential to achieve those goals. Any final thoughts for you opponents in the coming weeks?

Warren:Be prepared. Be prepared for the fight of your lives because this company is dangling quite a bit of prizes above our heads. Proverbial brass rings, roster spots, title shots. It's my turn to have carries these just as I carry the burden of a revolution. Our company is coming together, wrestlers from all three brands trying to prove themselves, but no one wants it more than I do.

I want this more, I need it more than any of you do. There's no way I am going to let someone else from Meltdown win this rumble and I will be damned if the Mega stars from the other shows are going to come to meltdown and bully us around.

I am the North American Champion and the fastest rising star the company has. I have momentum, and where there is a will there is a way. And I am a man of iron will of unbroken fortitude.

Warren and I talked for hours, mostly off of the record stuff. He truly is an intriguing person. It was shocking how willing he was to open up with me a complete stranger. After the interview he told me that he once planned to join a stable with Jason Kash, and he even revealed his birth name. Of course I was sworn to secrecy and will respect his wishes.

As a journalist one must always remain objective when reporting a story. The APW has a very huge couple of weeks ahead of it. And so Does Warren Peace. The Rumble match is stacked with capable megastars. It really can go either way, but if there is one person with the most to prove it has to be Warren Peace.

He fought, scratched and clawed to get to where he is now and each week raises the level of competition for himself and his opponents. I truly believe that he will go on to be undisputed champion someday. The sky is the limit.

Only time will tell how the outcomes of his matches over the next few weeks will play out but I do believe that we are witnessing the rise of Warren Peace, one way or the other this man will be at the top of APW in now time.

We, the fans are just lucky to be able to witness the journey.

[Jake Titan]

Titan For Hire: Fight Club
NOTE: This is the LONGEST role play I have EVER written.

The Meltdown Invitational: An even that Jake Titan thought he wouldn’t be seriously considered for. But guess what? Jake Titan was accepted into the event and will be competing for a chance to move shows. Among other names that are in the Meltdown Invitational was Level One, Delikado, and Young Mannie, each of them were former Undisputed or North American or even Overdrive Champions. Ruling out Level One, there was one other man Jake had his eyes set on: That was Warren Peace. The current APW’s North American Champion on Meltdown.

Four men who had huge targets on their back, secretly people had been placing bets on who could eliminate the most or who can eliminate what former champions. Begin a compulsive gambler, Jake was heavily betting on Delikado to eliminate Level One while he was betting he and Leon Roberts would eliminate Young Mannie and the man who beat him for the APW North American Championship: Warren Peace. Then with the last bit of his money, he did put a sizable bet on himself to eliminate Leon Roberts.

Was that wrong of Jake Titan to do? A real possibility but did APW’s Original Gangsta care? The answer to that question is a resounding no. While The Natural Born Killaz was going to be in the match, they were ultimately going to be enemies in this match. The winner could get
drafted to a show of their choice or they could get a title shot to any championship they want. Except Asylum who were simply screwed over… as of now at least.

Jake Titan is somewhere in downtown Toronto. As he walked into a bar, the bartender gave the Last Call. Was it early? Maybe but it was time for business. Jake had to prepare for Rasslemania IX against Buckson Gooch and Tommy Knoxville, who coincidently were also in the Meltdown
Invitational. While the Red Neck Boyz were going to be in the match, that was Jake’s focus. His focus was simple: Just to survive. If there was going to be any chance of Jake winning, he’d have to toughen up in a hurry as well as depend on his x-factor: Leon “The Virus” Roberts in having his back until the end.

But how often could you count on your tag partner when the prize was JUST TOO good? Hence Jake’s extra “training” at this unnamed bar. Several men followed closely behind Jake as they made their way into the kitchen. The cooks shut everything down and began away the food.
As they head into the storage area, Jake and another man open pair metal doors on the floor. The men flood downstairs and gathering in a circle around another man who stood in the center if dimly lit room. The smell of sweat, blood, cigarettes and booze created a horrid smell in this dank basement. The men start taking their shirts off, which caught Jake off guard.

“What da fuck? Is this for a gay porno?” Now Jake was suddenly wishing he never showed up.

This entire time, the man in the center light finished his cigarette and threw it aside. A creepy, toothless smile crossed his face. “Gentlemen, welcome to Fight Club. The first rule of Fight Club is: You do not talk about Fight Club.

“The second rule of Flight Club is: YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT FIGHT CLUB!” The man leaned over into Jake’s face, spitting on him as he spoke.

“Just remain calm… you’ll kick his ass soon enough.” Then Jake rubbed the spit off him.

“The third rule of Fight Club is: If someone says “Stop”, goes limp, taps out, the fight is over.” The man continued walking around the room as he addressed the men.

“The fourth rule of Fight Club: Only two guys to a fight. The fifth rule: One fight at a time.” Several men start laughing, even Jake had to laugh. “Sixth rule: No shirts, no shoes. Seventh rule: Fights will go on as long as they have to. And the either, and final rule: If this is your first night at Fight Club, you HAVE to fight.”

This is what Jake came to Fight Club for: A chance to fight some tough guys in preparation for the big match on Meltdown. The man pointed at Jake then at a skin head, who slowly took his shirt off and got ready. Their boots are thrown aside and the men circle around and enclose
Jake and other man. They circle each other like wrestlers circle a bear in the ring, which isn’t too far from what Jake does.

The white guy punched Jake across his face and flowed up with a left hook. The first knocked the taste out of Jake’s mouth but he saw the second and blocked it. Not wanting to lose his first fight at Fight Club, he tackled him over and head butted him viciously. The two continue wrestle around and punch each other. As Jake threw his head forward to head butt him again, the guy moves his head and Jake heat butted the floor. Then his opponent took advantage of this, tackled him down and began to knee him hard in his ribs. Using his arms to defend himself, Jake tried to lighten the blows. “Damn, dis cat is good!” Jake thought feeling the stiff strikes.

Still Jake couldn’t lose a fight so close to two huge fights; this would effective ruin the steam he’s been building. Despite this guy actually having some decent skill, Jake managed to break contact and get to his feet. Then the angry white boy ran at our beloved Gangsta, seeing him charging like some undisciplined and stupid bully, Jake dropped down and managed to land a Superkick right on his jar. The white boy fell hard and didn’t move. The guys cheered loudly as Jake got on top of him, grabbing his sweat covered head, Jake began to slam his face against the cement. The first strike caused a small gash to open just above the boys right eye but as he didn’t tap out or scream stop, Jake lifted his head again and smashed his forehead and nose into the concrete.

“STOP! STOP!” The young man cried out in pain.

The guys started to hoot and holler, cheering on Jake Titan for his first big win at Toronto’s little Fight Club. As Jake walked aside to cool off after the fight, he heard an excited high pitched voice. “JAKIE BOY!” He turned back, shocked to see Liberty Roberts somehow got into Fight Club.

“What the… how…” he stammered out.

“Granddaddy owns this bar too!” She was uncharacteristically happy which made Jake even more confused about the entire situation.

Liberty Roberts, the eldest daughter of Leon “The Virus” Roberts and Demonica Roberts. There are times that Jake does wonder ‘Why am I with him again?’ then he remembers: At least three years back owed rent. Randy Roberts was a nice guy, sometimes too nice and Jake did use that his advantage. However his matches in APW have helped him pay back a part of that back owed rent, just not enough. Still the young girl poured a pitched of ice water, what she thought was ice water, over Jake Titan.

The girl sniffed the air “You smell like New Years…”

“Yeah dat was Vodka on da rocks.” Jake wiped his face off on his shirt.

“What the Hell is that smell?!” She said holding her nose, realizing now how rank the basement smelled.

Jake couldn’t help but laugh at the girl. “That da smell of MEN…. When you get older you’ll get to use to the smell.”

“We’ll it’s disgusting!” Liberty reached into her pocket and pulled out a scented match book and lit one.

‘Why is she here? Isn’t it way past her bed time?’ thought Jake Titan as he looked over to see a huge spurt of blood fly from one man’s mouth. Clearly he got the taste knocked out of his mouth.

“So did you hear what my daddy said about your punk ass?” taunted Leon’s ten year old girl.

Unimpressed at her choice of words, Jake gave Liberty a very disapproving point. “Yea’, I know what yo’ punk ass, bitch of a daddy said.”

“I don’t think daddy would like you calling him that.” Where did she get this arrogance? Oh yeah… her father. Either that or all Canadian’s are cocky sons of bitches.

“I don’t care!” Jake snapped his fingers at her, giving her a taste of the 90s which did earn the girl’s ire. “Yo’ old man ‘n’ me are buds, a’ight? But dis week, we’re temporary partners ‘n’ firstly enemies-“

Liberty silenced him by shoving a Ho-Ho in his mouth. Coincidently Jake’s favorite snake food was Ho-Ho’s. “Jake, mommy and I know you talk smarter. The you’re talking now REALLY gives me a head ache.”

A man screamed bloody murder as they looked over to see a 500 lbs pound man stomp another man’s testicles into oblivion. After twelve stomps on his family jewels, which were effectively shattered, he screamed “STOP!” in a very high pitched voice. The bloodied fat man stood up an raised an arm up as two guys lifted the battered man off the floor as he cried like a wounded dog.

“A’ight, I’ll be nice. Your dad might my landlord’s son but it doesn’t mean I won’t turn on your pops if it means I can pull out a huge win. Because I know who I want to gun and I’ve placed some heavy money on me eliminating them from the match. Since your daddy shit talked me, I’m gonna shit talk your old man.

“It’s true I only got a job here because you told me about Action Packed Wrestling but doesn’t mean I owe you shit n-“ Jake looked and suddenly knew that if he said what he wanted to say, odds are excellent he’ll be fired or held back like Booker T. “I ain’t own you shit, bitch. We’re only going to be partners when there are 28 other men to beat. But when it’s down to me and your punk Canadian ass, Leon I’m going to throw you over the top rope. You’ll be carrying MY bags for a week a week. I ain’t your slave Leon and I refuse to be one. Canada’s had slavery illegalized way longer than America. So your pasty white ass will be the butt end of my jokes for a week.”

“Okay… My dad can still beat you and your daddy.”

“WHAT?! Even though I do know that dead beat, I’m not going to defend him at all. So I hope your old man would beat my old man’s ass, but I know my granddaddy could beat your daddy and your granddaddy’s ass, with one hand tied behind his back.” Liberty caused a fire to light up in Jake’s eyes.

Liberty shook her head, refusing to believe Jake’s claims. “Naw ugh!” She jumped up on a chair and got on Jake’s eye level. “My granddaddy could beat your granddaddy with a chain around his neck wearing an oil drum!”

To anyone else that was paying attention, to see a full grown man argue with a child this would be humiliating. But this is Jake Titan, he’ll argue with anyone for any reason. Even if he was arguing with a ten year old girl, which makes one wonder: How desperate is Jake Titan for a win over a child? “Naw ugh! My granddaddy could beat your granddaddy in middle winter, naked, still in slave chains, with no legs!”

“In your dreams! Grandpa Roberts is so tough, it takes fourteen puppeteers to make him smile, but only two to whoop your granddaddy’s ass!” She snapped her fingers in Jake’s face, giving him a flash back taste of the 1990’s.

Jake then shook his head arrogantly, cock like a 1990’s teenage girl. Then he held his hand straight up, palm extending towards her. “Whatever! My granddaddy was like seven tall, a World War Two Veteran, built like a brick shit house! He so much better than your granddaddy that he once at markers and pencils, two hours later he shat out a master piece!”

With a devil like angry glare, young Liberty Roberts stared into her father’s tag team partner’s, clearly high as a hot air balloon, hazel eyes. “Do you want to fight about it?!”

“YES!” Jake winded up a to slap her a good one.

Taking advantage of his slow reaction, Liberty grabbed ahold of the pitcher she used on Jakes head and broke it on his face. Our beloved Gangsta fell over like a sack of hammers and laid face down in broken glass while Liberty sat on the table, cocky that she just knocked out a man over three times her size.

“Want to keep arguing?” she kicked his butt gently.

Knowing he had just got served by a ten year old girl, Jake shook his head on the floor. “No… I’m good.”

“Do you want a hand getting up?”

“No, I’m a proud black man! I need to get up on my own to raise and overcome the oppression you laid on me.”

Three hours later, Jake was still lying down in the broken glass not moving on the floor. Still waiting for Jake Titan to get up, Liberty sat on top of the table and waited on him. As Jake finally got up, he looked up to see if Liberty had fallen asleep, unfortunately for him she was still wide awake and eating a Chef’s Salad.

“Isn’t it past your bed time?” asked Jake.

“Shouldn’t you have taken me home three hours ago?” Liberty shot back.

A long pause with an awkward silence passed as Liberty loudly at her salad. “I won’t tell your tell your old man that you were up way past your bed time, if you don’t tell him that I didn’t bring you home until almost one in the morning. Deal?” He extended his hand.

“Done.” Liberty shook his hand. “Your hands are sweaty… GROSS!!”

“Yeah… now where was I? Oh yeah, your punk ass old man.” Jake sat up and saw most of the guys had gone home and only one chef remained to lock up behind Jake and Liberty.

“You already covered him.” Reminding him that Jake has already capped on her dad, she “gently” reminded him by kicking the back of his head softly.

“Well I know that bitch, Robina Hood, has it coming.” Something was on Jake’s mind and it was blocking him. “Okay, if Imma do this right, I gotta pretend you’re your old man. Yeah my name has “Titan” in it, but that doesn’t mean shit, bitch. Your name is Robina Hood, clearly a porno bitches screen name. While you’re letting your band of merry men run a train on your ass because I threw you over the rope, I’ll be busy winning that battle royal. Even if I do lose because your punk ass got thrown over the top, you can over to my place and find out what it’s like to get spunky butt lovin’s from a real winner.”

“Ewww…” Liberty chimed in pointing at her salad.

Then Jake saw she was still eating. “Sorry, forgot. I make sure I don’t say that she can also bring her dom partner, Niobe with her, and we can turn into a three way of spunky butt lovin’s… sorry I didn’t it again didn’t ?” Jake sheepishly smiled at Liberty. Oddly enough, his teeth are so white; she could see them perfectly in the dimly lit basement.

Taking it like a soldier, she let Jake’s comment slide off her shoulder. “I don’t know what spunky butt lovings is, but it sounds nasty and painful.”

‘Really, Liberty has never heard the term Spunky Butt Lovings before? Maybe it was her age or it was just that Canadian’s haven’t heard of this phrase yet’ APW’s Original Gangsta thought to himself. “Well that bitch called me out. So after I show her how I like to get dirty, she won’t be walking straight for a week. Call me out if you want but at least have the balls to call me out one on one, you dirty, dirty girl. SPEAKING OF DIRTY GIRLS! You hear that our opponents at Rasslemania IX are also participating right?”

“Yeah, they’re a pair of douche bags, whatever those are.” Jake had to let that comment slide off his back, she was his friends daughter but little Lib was still a child and doesn’t need to be thrown into an adults world so quickly… even though he was kind of doing that right now and so is her father.

“Our tooth Gooch, the area between a guy’s junk and bunghole mind you-“

“Ewww! I’m trying to eat!” Liberty said pointing at her salad again.

“Sorry, just stating facts Lib. Don’t blame me his dumb ass parents gave him one of the worst names that I have EVER heard in my entire life. I mean seriously, did they want to give their redneck son a chance? I don’t think they did. Otherwise wouldn’t have a somewhat intelligent name like “Rudy Buckson” or even “Buckson Earnhart” since I know them redneck’s love their NASCAR… Well NASCAR and Bert Reynolds.” Jake stopped as Liberty interrupted him.

“NASCAR? Sorry but I’m Canadian and who’s Burt Reynolds?” Liberty wondered.

“A Non Athletic Sport Centered Around Rednecks and Bert Reynolds is a washed up actor, just like Robina Hood will be soon. I ain’t never seen a bitch wrestler wow me, either in the ring or with her chest. Robina Hood will be nothing but a footnote in my growing legacy and that’s the truth. Now where was I…” Having gotten off his real idea, Jake had to think. “Oh yeah, Buckson Gooch. While his name kind of has something to do with the fine ass purse, he ain’t fine and he ain’t ever going to be anything more but a Red Neck hero in denial.

“But I gotta give Buckson Gooch this; he lucked out with his wife. From what I’ve heard, he got lucky. I guess even a former pig farmer has to get lucky once in a while, right? Surely God and/or Karma, whichever you believe it, cant’ just constantly take a dump on one guy right? While he might smell like a pig, I’ll give it to him that he’s humble enough to know he ain’t the best. I respect that, I respect that a lot. He’s a Hell of a guy but our business isn’t for nice guys. Call me a pussy-“

“Pussy.” Liberty smirked as she interrupted McLovin again.

Taking a deep breath, Jake kept coo to not snap on little Liberty Roberts. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t worth going to jail for. “Call me a pussy but I hate seeing nice guys like Buckson Gooch get taken advantage of. I’ll be nice and take a little sympathy for him, I might make sure he’s the second to last guy eliminated but he’s going get go over that top rope and go splat on the floor.

“As for his bitch ass partner Johnny Knoxville, I mean Tommy Knoxville you’re jive ass, punk bitch! I feel bad that Buckson Gooch has to call you his partner. You still haven’t done shit to impress my black ass and my black ass ain’t like James Earl Jones, so it’s rather small which means it’s rather easy to impress. When our humble Hillbilly hero decides to get rid of you, I’m going to coach to tough son of a bitch to a huge ass win over you.

“You might think we’re cock suckers all you want, at least neither one of us look like we’re still stuck in the closet! I might rag on Leon for being in closet bisexual but at least he know he’s a straight up lady killer with his devilish good looks. Shit man, the least you can do is back up that puppy dog ass with a bulldog mouth but you couldn’t even get that right! We beat your pathetic ass time two weeks ago, me and Leon are going to eliminate you first bitch then at Rasslemania IX we’re going to beat your punk ass into submission again! Bring Niobe, Mikey, Kash, Happy, Sleepy, Dopey, Carlton Banks, Rick James, The Three Six Mafia and your daddy! They ain’t shit and neither are you, Gooch go do yourself a big favor. You may have lost at Survive and Conquer but do yourself a big ass favor and ditch the bitch now while you got a chance.” A foot pressed on Jake’s head. He looked up to see Liberty offer him a Diet Pepsi, he took it and despite Diet Pepsi being the soda he hated the most, Jake smiled and drank it.

“So we got the current APW North American Champion Warren Peace in the match. Look homie, you’ve got a big ass target on your back. Everyone’s going to be gunning to eliminate you homeboy. You might not even show up because whoever throws your fairy ass over the top rope will have a legitimate claim to take the North American Championship off you. I know for fact if I throw you over the top rope, I’d want to challenge you to a non-championship match on the following Meltdown and prove that my beating you wasn’t a fluke.

“Take that as over confidence and being overzealous, but I know you ain’t got shit on me, cat! We never had old mans to teach us how to fight or how to shave. But you’re taking pride in ruining your old man’s life? You might be smart but you ain’t shit compared to me. I can brag all night about running in the Bloods, how many times I’ve got take a shot or two in my ass-“ Jake stopped suddenly and noticed Liberty snicker.

He glared back at the girl however she suddenly didn’t find it funny and kept eating her salad slowly… how long has she been nursing that salad? “You’re a lucky turd who beat another lucky turd. You ain’t going leaving Meltdown the winner of the Battle Royale and you certainly ain’t leaving Rasslemania as the APW North American Champion. The only mother fucker I see shit in as a North American Champion in your upcoming match is Cid Phoenix as he’s the only guy who ain’t dumb enough to run off at the mouth with shit he shouldn’t say! I don’t only doubt you being a credible champion but I doubt you’ll be nothing more than a paper champion. So keep that title around your waist and know you’re luck ‘cause I’m a tag teamer.”

Jake got off the ground and stood up, with his shirt in hand he started to get dress. Just as he finished, Liberty finished her salad. When Jake walked past her, Liberty saw her chance and jumped on his back as if he was a horse. One arm across his throat while her legs wrapped around his ribcage, Jake was having difficulty breathing thanks to Liberty strangling him on accident.

“Giddy up horse!” Then Liberty drove her heels into Jake’s hips as if the was an actual horse.

Jake began to walk towards the door past the chef. The kind man was nice enough to not only clean up the bloody mess in the basement but was also nice enough to not lock Jake down there for another week or so. Because of Liberty not being easy on Jake, the Gangsta collapsed as he left the front door. Liberty looked down at Jake, nearly ready to cry now that her new horse was broken.

“Level One didn’t give up…”

“FUCK LEVEL ONE!” Suddenly, Jake yelled loudly as if he was the Iron Shiek and now he was back on his feet filled with piss and vinegar. Poor Liberty Roberts feel off Jakes back and landed on the ground as Jake jumped straight to his feet. Raw power and adrenaline ran though Jake’s veins as he stood up.

“I saw that son of bitches shit at EWC, he bored me to sleep there and he bores me asleep here! That guy is absolutely pathetic; he lost to one shot whore wonder: Sally Talford! How can that guy even enter the APW’s ring again after he lost to her? Sure he beat her five months later at Rasslemania, which is likely his show, but seriously? I don’t know good she is or was or whatever, but I tell you this much Lib.

“If I ever lose a title, one on one, to a woman, I’ll tuck my junk in between my legs and call myself a chicken!” Liberty started to laugh at that comment. “Go ahead laugh; you know I’d do it without thinking twice too. I know he disappeared for a while but now he’s back? He’s a bitch if I saw one and I’ll make sure he knows that I think he’s a complete punk ass bitch when I see him in the ring. His time at the top of APW has come and gone, I ain’t letting him get one over me Lib, you can bet your....” Jake nearly forgot she’s only ten again. “You can bet the farm on it too!”

A homeless man walked up to Jake and Liberty. Scared about the appearance of a vagrant, Liberty took a step behind Jake, hoping he’d protect her. Little did she know, despite everything she’s done to him tonight and before, Jake isn’t the type of guy to let a child get hurt. Still, Jake had to be on his toes and be ready in case this guy tried to start something with him.

“Sup, homie?” Jake gave an upward nod to the homeless man.

The vagrant looked at Liberty and eyed her. “That’s a cute girl you have there…”

Jake looked at Liberty and rubbed her back, assuring her that she’ll be safe. “Okay… and?”

“How much for her cute ass?” he asked reaching in a pocket and pulling out a baggie of Cocaine.

Suddenly, Jake was at a boiling point. He wanted to destroy this man but since Liberty is a child, he couldn’t break this guy into ten thousand pieces. “She ain’t fo’ sale!”

“Come on man! I need to get my stick wet! Otherwise get out of the way before I cut your ass!” The vagrant pulled out a switchblade.

Then it happened, Jake just snapped. Even though he wasn’t her father, Jake began attacking the homeless child predator as if he was Leon. No, he wasn’t Leon Roberts. Had it been Leon Roberts, there wouldn’t be anything left of this man. Jake Titan, despite his East Coast Blood background was too nice. Instead of beating the man to death, Jake repeatedly punched his head face until there was only a bloody pulp left. In the back Liberty watched in silence and said nothing. Between seeing her father in action and movies she’s seen, violence of this nature didn’t bother her.

It might have been only five minutes but it was a five minute beating that this piece of trash would never forget. Wanting to get home before someone discovers that she was up way past her curfew, Liberty tugged on Jack’s arm. McLovin looked at her and stopped beating the man.

“Jake, I really need to get home. I’m super tired and I don’t want my parents knowing I’m out.” Little Liberty Roberts pleaded with Jake Ttian to take her home, not that she was worried about a man who wanted to molest her.

Two hand full of dirty coat filled Jake’s hands. “If I ever seen you in this town again, I swear on my good mother’s grave, I will finish what I started!” Jake spat in face and showed her to his motorcycle.

The bikes started up and Liberty sat in front behind Jake as he drove about a block away from Leon’s house. At one in the morning there was little chance that Leon would still be awake. But he didn’t want to risk this less than innocent scene. The two neared Liberty’s bedroom window where she would need a boost. Jake simply picked up and put her in her room.

“Thank you Jake, don’t worry. I won’t tell mom or dad that you took me out late and creepy man made a pass at me.” She gloated.

Calmly, Jake shrugged his shoulders. “That’s cool, because if you do I’ll tell your parents that you snuck out after dark and almost got hurt in the bad side of town.”

The two looked each other a few minutes. “Why do you want to know when I turn sixteen?”

“Ah easy, that’s because-“ Jake made a sudden dash away.

Unknown to him, Jake ran through Monica’s Rose Bushes, which hurt. Neither did he clear a gate fence properly and landed flat on his face. Still worried Liberty is right behind him, Jake jumped over wooden fence. Little did Jake know, the two German Shepard that lived in said yard did not like unwelcomed guess. The dogs began barking and trying to attack Jake. He swore cursed as he attempted to get away.

“Shit! I hate German Shepards!” Jake jumped up on the fence and as he got one leg over, one bit his ass.

“Ouch my ass! It hurts so bad! AAAHHHHHH!” Jake screamed as the three guard dogs pulled him down into the hard. Two minutes of mauling later, Jake managed to break away having a full set of torn clothes covered in dog spit and was frightened out of his mind.

~END

[Jules]

For one last time we’re in the studio – Meltdown backdrop and all – for a visit to The Guv’nor. As the scene opens our protagonist works onto the set.

Guvnor: One of the big themes this week is survival. I suppose when you analyse these kinds of matches it doesn’t take Mensa membership to see that the winner is the last man standing, so in that respect it isn’t about who the most dominant wrestler. Just look at Survive & Conquer, and how that mentalist Rex Evans was tossing geezers, yours truly included, left, right and centre out of the ring. Yet that nutter didn’t win. So yeah, it’s as much about surviving as it is about conquering, right? (or is that pun two months too late?)

Now I said before you can’t have a strategy in this match, since you just can’t factor all the variables. I maintain that, but you can still have a goal in mind. For some people it’s going to be surviving, and while you can’t have a specific way or doing that figured out, you can certainly aim for it. Me, well since I’m The Guv’nor, bashing people is about all I’m good at, so when it comes to my goal I have one in mind: smashing as many slags as possible.

How you go about that, well that’s my little tip for today.

The scene fades out to a title screen that reads.

The Guv’nor’s Guide to Surviving the Meltdown Invitational
Lesson 4: Every Hole’s A Goal

We fade back into the studio and The Guv’nor.

Guvnor: Don’t get carried away, I’m not about to start advocating one great big gangbang in the middle of the ring. While I’m sure that’ll appeal to some in the field, that’s just not how I take my steak, know what I’m saying.

What I’m saying is that everyone is equal in this match – equal in terms of taking a nice, proper slap on the chin from yours truly.

I’ve heard you need to pace yourself in this match – that’s the key to survival. But it should be clear that The Guv’nor never wants to be some slag who simply avoided the aggro better than anyone else. I’m always on the front foot, that’s how I operate, from the toes not the heels. Win or lose, that’ll never change. So you can forget that.

For me, everyone is a possibility – a possibility for me to fuck them up that is. We got the likes of Level-One, Johnny Rebel and Jason Kash in this match. Some of the top faces in this business, and I’m sure everyone is thinking ‘I’d love their scalps’. To me, I couldn’t give two pennies whether I’m throwing them over the top rope or Mr. Dangerous – every body is just another body to eliminate in my eyes. So in that respect that we lesser souls should band together to eliminate this lot, well that’s neither here nor there to me. Reputations count for nothing in this one, so I won’t be looking to avoid any one person in particular, nor will I hesitate to launch someone face first over the top just because they got their name up in lights around here.

I know we got some real big bastards in this match too. People like Buckson Gooch, who’s like three men in one – and I’m not just talking about his dinner plate either. This guy can fight for three men, and with the weight he’s packing he has to be a prime target. I know a lot of people wouldn’t want to get caught one-on-one with the hillbilly because let’s face it, lifting that tub of lard is going to be no easy feat. Nevertheless, you won’t find me sitting back waiting for assistance if I find myself in that situation. I’ll go as hard at Buckson if he’s the only man there as I would at some puny waif like Robina Hood, and when I send him flying like Dumbo it won’t be the hand of God that rocked the world.

The point is big or small, male or female, legend or rookie, they all tumble and hit the floor exactly the same; they are all made of flesh and bones; they are all vulnerable; they are all potential survivors; they are all enemies of The Guv’nor for at least one hour.

Bearing that in mind, they are all the same. I will take no more pleasure from tossing Terry Marvin’s fashion accessory over the top as I would from getting rid of low-lifes like Pat Stay. Either one is a small victory in my mind, and I’m not here to execute success in some petty skirmishes, I’m going out to win the war, and that means TOTAL VICTORY!

Every is equal; every single one is a victim of something MADE IN HACKNEY!

The scene fades out as the webcast comes to an end.

[Tommy Knox]

///Let's Get Ready To Rumble\\\
Chapter XXI, Part II

"...you're the next best thing to hit APW since valtrex after Knuckles mom attended a house show."
- Knoxville -

Sunday 2:53 PM [March 17th, 2013]
Toronto, Canada

We find ourselves inside of a local pub, downtown in the heart of the city. The atmosphere is festive, full of energy and comradery. In the back of the bar, we catch a glimpse of Knoxville standing on a table with a pint in hand and a drunk, happy look painted across his face. Below, a crowd of people surround him hanging on his every word.

"And I'm goin' into Meltdown tomorrow night with one thing on my mind. One thing on my mind you ask? You goddamn right, one thing on my mother fuckin' mind." Knoxville yells across the bar just before taking a big gulp from his beer. "Action!!!" He screams at the top of his lungs.

"Yea!!!" The crowd at his feet holler.

Knoxville removes his sunglasses from his eyes and pushes them to the top of his head with his free hand. "I've been comin' up here, to Canada, for the past few weeks now and I'm not about to leave tomorrow night with my head held low. I'm leavin' this bitch with my head held high and ready to take what's rightfully mine at Rasslemania!"

"Tomorrow night, I will find myself up against twenty some odd individuals all lookin' for the same thing. Too bad, I'm stealin' the show. I'm thirsty and the only thing that can quinch my thirst is the taste of blood! Trevor Hyatt, come get it. I made you my bitch last week. Tomorrow night I'll be more than happy to do it again. There's nothin' that can save you this time. Once the hold is locked and the pressure is applied, it's lights out for you! Cry, cry, cry you little punk!" Knoxville erupts as he spills his beer on an innocent bystander below him.

"Get us another round!" Knoxville calls for as the crowd cheers him on.

Pulling out a cigarette, he places it between his lips and lights it up without hesitation. He takes a few drags as the crowd talks amongst themselves.

"Where was I?" Knoxville asks as the fans hush up and listen.

"Who do we have next? Oh yea, Robina Hood, the princess of hoodrats. I don't know how you managed to find yourself in this battle royal but this is grown man business. I'll just let my little sweetheart, Niobe, handle you like she's wiped the mat with you before. That goes for you and any of those other hoes climbin' in that ring, thinkin' you're goin' to knock me down and out. Megan Andrews, Amy Zing, whoever... Don't think I won't smack a bitch! I'd hate to handle you hoes like Ike handled Tina everytime she stepped out of line. Luck for you though, I won't have to. Niobe has you bitches under control, simple as that."

"Then we have Mr. Dangerous, APW's badass in the flesh. I'll worry about him just about as much as I'm worryin' right now as I think of standing face to face with Stefan Raab. Hell, I might do Jeff a small favor and make sure you don't even make it to Rasslemania. It's not like he needs any favors from me, he's ready for his match with you. Look at it like this, after you lose to Jeff next week, you can use the ass kickin' I handed you as an excuse to your poor performance. Then again, what's your excuse for every other time you step in the ring?"

"Lets not forget about the "Main Attraction" to an APW arena near you! Young Mannie, FORMER, North American champion. All you do is talk about how you were the champion and how you're the next best thing to hit APW since valtrex after Knuckles mom attended a house show. You may have been somethin' big on Meltdown, you ain't shit on Asylum. Before you know, I'll be there to kick you when you're down. Until then, you get a piece of me tomorrow night and I'm swingin' for the fences! I haven't hit a homerun yet since comin' back, but tomorrow night I'm knockin' a grand slam out of the mother fuckin' park! Get right, son!"

Knoxville stumbles back and slams against the wall behind him, keeping him from tipping over the table. He then finishes his beer and bends over to grab a shot waiting beneath at his feet. "Bottoms up!" He yells as he downs the shot and tosses the empty shot glass aside.

"Speakin' of Young Mannie Fresh, you can't mention him without bringin' up the man who dethroned his sorry ass. You didn't think I was goin' to forget you, Warren Peace, did you? How could I rant on and on tonight in front of these fine people of Toronto without mentionin' the Meltdown champ himself? I'm not goin' to stand here and shit all over your name like some of these other punks. I'll be honest with you, I have some respect for a man of your stature. You my friend, are what defines a true champion. Not so much like the poser you snatched that title from. You know damn well there's a big target on your back goin' in to this little contest we have takin' place. With that said, if someone else doesn't, I'm hittin' bullseye on that bitch and sendin' you to the back with the rest of the losers who get tossed over those ropes. Respect or not, we're not allies so you can be damn sure that I'm not holdin' anything back or lookin' over your shoulder to keep you from harms way. It's either goin' to be me or someone else. I might as well take one for the team and send you to Rasslemania with your held held low in shame."

He takes a drag from his cigarette and hops down from the table as the staff bring pints for everyone to enjoy. Knoxville swipes one from the waitresses hand and begins to chug as the crowd receives theirs. He then takes another drag and climbs back on the table and exhales straight into the air.

"While we're throwin' around big names, lets be sure to mention the all mighty, Level One. I'm goin' to shoot you straight, Lester. At first when I heard that you would be partakin' in this little shindig, I was a little intimidated. But then I thought to myself for a moment and it hit me as clear as day. You've lost a step, brother. How do I figure, you ask? It's simple. You're an athlete who has headlined many more important events than a Meltdown invitational rumble. If you still had somethin' left in the tank as you once did, you wouldn't even bother wastin' your time with us common folk. With that said, I got your number! I came back to APW to get my name on the map. I've been through hell and back over the last few years. My career has had its ups and downs, more so in the lower altitudes here lately but it is what it is. You just may be the solution that I'm lookin' for. Even if you have lost a step or two, your name puts asses in the seats. I can only imagine how puttin' you on your back will skyrocket my comeback and kick it into overdrive, no pun intended."

Knoxville takes one last drag from the cigarette and drops it on the table. He then takes another drink from his beer and puts the lit cigarette out with his shoe. A drunken member of the crowd below falls into the table and Knoxville loses his balance. Trying to regain balance, he drops his beer to the side and slips as he repositions his feet. It's over from here. Knoxville then falls back as his feet shoot straight into the air and he slams into the floor. Empty glasses from the table fall over the side and crash all over him as he rests there with a fallen napkin over his chest that reads; "Happy St. Patrick's Day!".

[Buckson Gooch]

Buckson Gooch - Roleplay: Tour de Rasslemania IX #5
Early Monday, March 18, 2013 - PossomGrape, AR
1:00 A.M.

-----------------

Buck crashes into bed after a long publicity tour for APW. The Goocher hopes that management is happy with his “sell” for the upcoming Meltdown Invitational Rumble and for Rasslemania IX.

Odd. Buck can’t feel his feet.

One of the things he was looking forward to was sliding his feet under the cool sheets of his bed. He knew that Annabelle would have fresh linins on the bed for Buck because he likes that so much. Annabelle is snoring, and if Buck listens close enough, he can almost hear Lily snoring from her bassinette. It’s time for him to get some shut-eye before he has to wake up, take care of the chores, and fly up to Toronto for the Rumble.

But what about his feet?

He tears back the covers and looks to his feet...he’s still wearing his boots. Buck thinks back over his travels, stops in Buffalo...NYC...Philly...Ontario...Toronto...and somewhere else, he just can’t remember.

Buckson Gooch: There’s focused and then there’s dwelling. Come on, Buck.

Buck removes his boots and slides his feet under the covers. The cool ocean of fabric is the rest he was waiting for. Imprinted on his eyelids are scenes of his opponents. Thoughts of what he’ll do.

Will he dream tonight?

He hopes so. Buck hopes for violent dreams...and that those dreams will become a reality.

His eyelids are heavy, as his mind goes to sleep. He reaches his big, hairy arm up to his nightstand lamp...

Buckson Gooch: Tomorrow...greatness.

With the click of the chain, the room goes dark...but the dreams, the hopes, and the goals? They are brighter than ever.

[Tommy Knox]

///Let's Get Ready To Rumble\\\
Chapter XXI, Part III

"...stolen like your mothers dignity in the center of a bukkake party."
- Knoxville -

Monday 7:03 AM [March 18th, 2013]
Toronto, Canada

The room is dim as rays of light break through the curtains dividing the inside comfort from the outside cold. This place couldn't look any more generic. We find ourselves in your everyday, average, cheap motel room on this fine morning in the city. Darkness covers almost the entire area revealing a mess that resembles the aftermath of a tornado ripping through a trailer park, looking for its next victim to swallow. Empty beer bottles rest on the coffee table sitting in front of a couch covered in blankets and a couple of pillows.

The front door swings wide open as Knoxville pops into the scene, kicking it as if he were Chuck Norris. With an orange juice and a bag of donuts in hand, he enters the room. With the flip of his finger, he turns the light switch on, illuminating the room only to uncover a bigger mess than we could have imagined. He walks to the couch, takes a seat and kicks over a few bottles as he props his feet on the table.

"Judegement day is upon us." He says as he opens the top to his orange juice and takes a swig.

He then pulls out his pack of cigarettes and slides a joint out and quickly sparks it up without hesitation. "I'm about fifteen minutes late but fuck it. Wake and bake. I've got to do somethin' to kick this hangovers ass before it ruins my day."

"Yesterday was one hell of a Saint Patrick's Day and an even better way for a stranger to celebrate in an unfamiliar city. Yesterday, I called out a few names in my abnormal state of mind. What can I say? A drunk mans words are a sober mans thoughts. Do I take any of it back? Hell no, would it matter if I did? I didn't think so. There's only one thing left for me to do and we all know what that is. It's time to step up and put my money where my big fuckin' mouth is."

He takes a few light puffs from the spliff and leans his head back as it overtakes his mind and eases it of all discomforts.

"After all that hollerin' and commotion, I'm pretty sure my drunk ass didn't make it all the way around the campfire with everyone's name. Well to those I left out, eat a dick. You all know who you are. If I forgot you, you can probably bet that it wasn't by accident. I mentioned all those worth mentionin'. At least I thought I did."

"In the dead of the night, the shit hit the fan and I realized that I forgot two of the biggest pillow biters in the entire matchup. You two know who you are. Leon "The Aids Virus" Roberts and Jake "The True Wanksta" Titan, the two men who make up the one and only, Natural Born Squealers. I'm hopin' you two didn't think I'd manage to forget about you before kickoff tonight. How could I? True, you guys beat me a few weeks ago but it took you both on your best night to put me down on one of my worst. I almost came away with the win, but almost doesn't amount to shit. At the end of the day, I was the one on my back out for the count."

"Next week you two get to face off against me and big Gooch for the second time with a shot at the tag gold on the line. Last time we all met in the ring, you two got your asses handed to you. If it wasn't for dumb cunts steppin' out of the kitchen, you two wouldn't even still be in the mix. Your hopes and dreams of winnin' those titles would have been stolen like your mothers dignity in the center of a bukkake party. At least that's how I see it. I'm sure you two see if differently in those delusional, pea sized brains you carry around in your back pockets. Next week we get round two and no one can step in and save your punk asses now, bitches."

"Tonight is goin' to be a little warm up for Gooch and I if we manage to get our hands on either of you. Sorry, you're not a priority tonight. We have bigger fish to fry. Your time will come next week at Rasslemania. If we do happen to bump into each other tonight, don't say I didn't warn you. What do I mean, you ask? Test me and find out. I have no problem takin' you two over the top rope with myself if it means I get to fight you two without interruptions on the outside. Hell, there's only one match tonight anyways. Lets give the fans a little more bang for their buck and take this bitch out to the streets and get real physical. Scared? I can smell it on you. Maybe it's piss, then again, I'm willin' to put my money on it bein' both of your sweat mixed together from a little late night exploration and experimentation of one anothers insides."

Knoxville takes a deep, slow drag from the joint before chasing it with a drink of orange juice.

"I'm not one to judge though. To each his own, right? Just know now that I don't play that shit and if you get too close, I will knock your two front teeth down your throat like my hillbilly friend, Kash. If you're lookin' for an easy mark tonight, shoot for him. I've been around this cat for quite some time now and one thing I've learned about this guy is that he will try anything once, twice if he likes it. Me though, don't even think about it. You two aren't my preference or type. Have you seen Niobe lately? There you go, that's all me. Well, it's been real guys but I need to get to the gym and get a little warm up session in as I take the rest of the day to prepare myself and focus on the task at hand. I've said it once and I'll say it again. I didn't come all the way up here just to walk away empty handed. I came here to win and that's what I plan to do. So, you can either lay down or you're goin' to stay down. The choice is yours. Either way, you better come correct."

With that said, Knoxville takes another drag from the joint and pulls a donut out. He stares at it for a moment before taking a bite and washing it down with a drink of cold orange juice.

[Lord Raab]

Learning to help people. Toronto, Canada. Sunday 17th March.

It's a dark, cold, night where Stefan and Elton were, seeing a lot of homeless people who are out in the cold, looking for someone to help them to live in a home. They are located in dark alleys with rubbish bins, and the homeless people had little to no cover to sleep at night.

Elton is with Stefan to help him how to start caring more for other people since the doctor told Stefan, that he has to learn how he can overcome his own fears of trusting and helping others, and not Raab thinking and being all about himself with his Narcissistic Personality Disorder. He has to start caring more about other people asides from himself

Stefan only found out about being in the Meltdown Invitational Royal Rumble match yesterday by his trainer at the StarrDome, because he had been so busy training non stop for his match against President Jeff, next Sunday at Rasslemania as Stefan begins to speak to Elton.

Stefan Raab: "Why the fuck are we here Elton?"

Elton: "I heard about that you recently been diagnosed with Narcissistic Personality Disorder right?"

Stefan Raab: "According to the doctors that I went to see the other day, yes I have but that doesn't explain anything about why we are here."

Elton: "It's because ever since you have stepped into APW. You've never ever helped anybody, in or outside of the wrestling business, asides from your fiancee. Don't you see what is happening to you at all, in your life as well as in APW?"

Stefan Raab: "No I don't and what makes you think that I will c......................................"

Elton: "You have to change especially if you're found guilty and you have to do community service for your actions, towards fans on Asylum then you have to start caring and help other people out."

Stefan Raab: "Why the hell should I do that?"

Elton: "Because it's the thing to do as a human being. Do you realize how fucking lucky you are, on having somewhere to live and being fed, while these people out here have to put up sleeping in this freezing cold weather, and that they have to look for food everyday to keep themselves alive. Also there are children that are suffering as well."

Stefan Raab: "I don't give a rat's ass about...................."

Elton: "Drop the attitude Stefan. Do you know how many times I have had to help people out, in the community? Lots of times and I never regretted helping those people one bit."

Stefan Raab: "I'm not ready to help people yet."

Elton: "That's why I'm here, to help you get ready to help other people asides from your fiancee, and plus your doctor told me to urge you to stop thinking about yourself, and try to attempt to help people. You can start with the homeless people here."

Stefan fears on trusting people as he's had a lot of bad experiences in the past, both in and out of wrestling, but there was one incident in particular that made him change. He tells Elton a story on why he hasn't helped people, who he doesn't know for a while that only his ex girlfriend, and current fiancee know about.

Stefan Raab: "I tell you a story that will make you understand why I hate to do things for other people, and why I hate to trust people I don't know. Back in two thousand and five, I let someone in my life, a young woman called Helene who seemed like a nice person at first, until things changed with her stalking me and even climbed over the fence to my house in Cologne, while my ex girlfriend and my eldest daughter lived with me. I even had security guards coming out to guard my house, because I got really scared of her.

Helene even raped me along with beating me up, which I suffered a lot of bruises on my face along with having a black eye, that I got from her punching me to the ground, and she even attempted to kill me with a knife. That's why I don't help or trust people I don't know, because of that incident, and I fear that it might happen again."

Stefan broke down in tears, as it hurts him that nobody understood why Stefan was so nasty to everyone in and out of wrestling, and he finds it hard to tell people about this whole story. Elton knows that Stefan feared crying, but he did it, and it showed that Stefan was human, and Elton begins to speak.

Elton: "Wow after I known you all of this time. You only told me this story now? Jesus Christ Stef. Now I do understand why you act the way you are. It's all in the past."

Stefan Raab: "Even if it is in the past. I still can't get over that I got raped by a woman, and it made me become a weak person. I haven't got that far on telling the psychotherapist about this yet, but I think I will so I can get over this because it's affecting me as a whole big time."

Elton: "Its OK Stefan don't worry about it, and I suggest you tell the psychotherapist as soon as you can, because maybe he or she can help you cope with that. Now this is where you have to get brave, on trying to talk to one of these homeless people and see what you can do, because I know that you have a heart since I have seen how you helped your fiancee when she was pregnant with your son, but not many people have seen you help others."

Stefan just couldn't do it as the story alone just freaked him out a lot, and it did every time he's told someone the horrific story, that he has problems getting over. He stops being in tears and thinks about the rumble match coming up.

Stefan Raab: "Damn. I almost forgot that I'm wrestling tomorrow night on Meltdown, even though my trainer Dorian Burke, told me about the rumble match yesterday, but it slipped out of my mind because of me having to tell you that sickening story. I got to get focused on the rumble and not Jeff for now."

Elton: "That's the smartest thing I heard you say in a long while, on you saying that you should focus on your opponents in the rumble, and not Jeff."

Stefan Raab: "I have to for the sake of this match, Elton although if that asshole does decide to interrupt the match, then I will just focus on kicking his ass."

Elton: "Don't Stefan, because that's how you lose matches. Alright you didn't do anything in the last match but if you focus on what's in the ring, then good things will all come together."

Stefan then looked at the people who were sleeping, and it's making him feel bad that he just isn't ready to help them for now, although it might change during the night, as well as wanting to get arrogant again.

Stefan Raab: "Is there some sort of stipulation do you know, if I was to win this pathetic disgusting rumble that I am apart of?"

Elton: "For Asylum, I have no idea since it seems like a mystery at the moment, but I guess that you will find out when you go to win the thing."

Stefan Raab: "I guess so but at least it will do me good fighting in the ring, just to warm up for my original match against Jeff, but I am not going to talk that much about him tonight, because he's not relevant to the task in hand."

Elton: "That's a good idea, but always remember to make sure that you do some respecting of your opponents, because you never ever do that when you talk about your match up's. I know with some people in the match that it's difficult to do so, but just try to think about what it will do for you just like if you ended up helping at least one homeless guy or girl tonight, then maybe people might want to....................."

Stefan Raab: "If you mean me gaining respect then sorry that will never happen, because I do not want people to respect me, nor do I even want to respect these idiotic sickening Arschloch swine's, that I am facing tomorrow night. I don't know how in the blue hell I even got into this match. I am guessing that President Jeff couldn't be bothered to promote our match for Rasslemania, and that I have to do his dirty work instead since he put me in the match."

Elton: "So why are you doing this match if you refuse to kiss his ass?"

Stefan Raab: "To give a few people a beating that's what, although there are two wrestlers in the match that I don't want to throw out at all, because I respect them a lot and two or three wrestlers I respect a bit that I may not want to hurt too much, but all the others I do want to throw there asses out of the ring."

Elton: "I hear rumors that you haven't been on twitter for a few days right?"

Stefan Raab: "Yes I haven't been on there since the first of March because One: I been way too busy training for the Rasslemania match and Two: Jeff hasn't said anything about me since Asylum last Sunday. Right now my mind is to win the rumble match for a potential title shot, that may get my attention after Rasslemania. I feel ready for a title shot on Asylum now."

Elton: "Confidence huh?"

Stefan Raab: "Exactly and you know that I always have confidence, with any upcoming match that I am in."

Elton sees Stefan being confident about the match, but he wondered if he will see Stefan being confident about helping a homeless person, but he will have to wait and see as Stefan was getting almost in the mood to talk about some of the opponents, that he hears that he has to face tomorrow night.

Elton: "Whoa. Seems like your excited about the rumble match right?"

Stefan Raab: "Yes I am because I wasn't allowed to wrestle on Asylum, but there's no rule about me wrestling on Meltdown this week, even though I hate the brand but at least Megan, Havok and Phoenix are making Meltdown entertaining again showing people that they aren't ass kissers, compared to everyone else on Meltdown, hell even Asylum and Overdrive as well lately."

Elton: "Now Stefan. Remember about not going over the top, about being so nasty to people, and that you should praise for what they have done in APW."

Stefan Raab: "Bullshit, but I guess I have to with a few people in the match, but that's about it. Now I need a god damn cigarette."

Stefan then got a cigarette box out of his pocket and puts the cigarette in his mouth so he can get his lighter near the cigarette to light up and starts to smoke on it inhaling and blowing the smoke out as he was getting ready to talk about his opponents that he had to face in the rumble match up still wondering how and why he was in this match.

In Stefan's mind he thought it was due to the Raab/Jeff match at Mania that he got forced to promote for the rumble as he starts to speak while Elton was waiting to see if Stefan was going to help anybody tonight or not.

"Tonight, I'm out here in this dump, that I see these disgusting Canadian homeless rats needing help everyday since Elton dragged me out here. Why is it that everyone is demanding me to be more respectful, and care for other people? Don't you wrestlers get it that I don't want to help anybody, because I am not that kind of guy no matter what people say, on me being selfish because that's exactly what I am.

To be honest. I didn't even know anything about me being in this match, until yesterday when Dorian who is my trainer in the StarrDome, said that I will be wrestling in this silly Meltdown Invitational Royal Rumble match because I've been training hard for my Rasslemania match against President Jeff.

I feel that some of the wrestlers like me are going to wrestle at Meltdown to promote our Rasslemania matches, which is good especially when Jeff is being a lazy fuck that couldn't be bothered to do anything, other than masturbating to the roster.

Anyway that's for another day on me talking about Jeff because now my mind is on this rumble match. I hear that there are some big names in this match. Names like Johnny Rebel who I saved one time from being fired, from your general manager position on Overdrive if you remember? Oh what am I saying I didn't save your ass.

I done the stunt to get Jeff pissed off, and giving him revenge for what he did to me at Survive and Conquer rumble match. You barely ever wrestle so you have little to no chance of winning the match, especially when you told the crowd before Survive and Conquer match that I am just filler that Jeff let in the match to throw over the top rope?

You made yourself sound fucking stupid, with that comment when it was another owner in a different company, that allowed me to wrestle in the rumble, not Jeff. Now who's the filler huh because it's certainly not me, especially when my match at Mania is one of the top three fights while you are just in the audience watching the matches. How the mighty have fallen which now I'm laughing about.

Another name that's well-known in APW, a guy who I think is one of the top dogs in the rumble, Level One. I never really faced or chatted to the guy that well, but he's one of those men that I have a little respect for since he has done a lot in APW, on being a multiple time Undisputed champion, to winning tag team titles with Johnny Rebel back on the Mayhem PPV a while back and I like this guy's attitude to the business, but there is one thing I really don't like about Level One, and that's him being Terry Marvin's lackey as of late.

You don't need Terry to help you get to the top, as you already proved that in the past with the amount of times you've become the Undisputed champion, but one of these days when Terry loses the title. He's going to get pissed so bad that he will end up hating you, and stab you in the back. If you wasn't kissing Terry's ass then you would be on my respect list for sure."

Stefan needed a break from talking for a bit as Elton was kind of proud of Stefan on trying to respect wrestlers he was facing in the match, especially about Level One as he was inhaling from smoking on his cigarette, with Stefan smelling the stink from the homeless people.

Stefan Raab: "My god doesn't it stink here tonight?"

Elton: "Well of course you expect that with them living out in the streets, without having regular baths or showers. When are you going to help one of the homeless people Stefan?"

Stefan Raab: "The answer to that is NEVER because I don't want to help them. Not the amount of times I've helped someone who then throw it back in my face."

Elton: "Stefan, I'm are not leaving until at least you can prove to me, that you have a heart on helping someone out."

Stefan Raab: "Oh ficken that because at the moment were going to stand here for a long while. Let me continue where I left off for the Meltdown rumble match."

Elton was disappointed with Stefan's comments, as he wanted for him to start caring for at least one person in the streets, as that made Stefan angry as he punched the wall behind him like a baby, not getting his own way as he continued to speak.

"Another big name in the match is another guy that I never admitted, on having a little respect for with Jason Kash. Yeah I said that because, I got to admit on that day in my first singles match on Asylum. He brought the best in me that day we faced off in a match long ago back in September, and at least he has guts to become a violent guy that helps a lot in the wrestling business, and he's kind of like me in sense that he's arrogant, and takes the piss out of people.

I also can't take away that he's a grand slam champion for Asylum, and that deserves my respect in my book, but I heard some disturbing things that you told me a while ago about me being a joke?

That's funny because I've changed now, and I feel that I am a proper wrestler than the old Stefan that I was. Also what you said a while ago or so I've heard about preparation makes you a man? My god you are still delusional, why do you think I haven't been on twitter or even at home?

Oh that's because I been training day in and day out to prepare myself for these next two matches that I am having including you, so shut the fuck up you idiot.

I barely even saw you do any violent things recently, apart from bashing Knuckles now known as Reaver in the head twenty odd times. What a brilliant man you are on doing that, but at least I admit I'm not, since I have attacked fans after Asylum has gone off air. Stop being an Affenschwanz and get on with it."

Stefan took a deep breath as he blew a smoke from his cigarette. He hasn't smoked that much, since after the last Asylum show because Stefan has been so busy, and he has lost a bit of weight as well with his training that he's done, and gained some muscle mass as well. He then continues to speak.

"Now I am going to talk about two wrestlers that have gained a lot of respect from me, from either what they have done in APW or elsewhere on Megan Andrews and Cid Phoenix. These people I'm hoping to avoid throwing out of the ring, because their achievements are amazing, and I know personally what Megan can do since she trains at the exact same wrestling school as I do.

Isn't it amazing Megan that we both still train in the StarrDome, and end up being in APW along with your sister wrestling in that other place? Seriously though I'm impressed on what you been doing in APW so far, and I hope you will continue with that along with showing your anger in the ring.

Cid on the other hand is a lot like me now on attacking fans, and showing how dangerous he is to other wrestlers in matches. Dude you have balls on doing what you did, and both of us have to go to court for attacking fans on Meltdown and Asylum. I applaud you for that, as the fans are rather pathetic cheering for goody too shoes wrestlers, that follow the rules in wrestling all the time."

Suddenly Stefan gets distracted when he saw somebody attacking a homeless man with Elton looking at Stefan.

Elton: "Don't stand there, Stefan. Do something to help that poor guy."

Stefan Raab: "Ugh do I really have to?"

Elton: "Yes just go and do it now."

Stefan didn't want to do anything, but he knows that he had to do something just to shut Elton up, as he destroys the cigarette that he was smoking to go over to the attacker, and Stefan suddenly attacks him using his Raabinator finisher. Then attacker runs away as soon as he got up with Elton smiling, that he saw Stefan doing a good deed tonight, and the homeless guy begins to speak.

Homeless guy: "Thank you so much for helping me tonight."

Stefan Raab: "You're welcome. Here's some money for you to buy food with."

Elton was really surprised on Stefan giving money away to the guy, as for once Raab wasn't thinking about himself, as the homeless guy went off to get himself something to eat as Elton begins to speak.

Elton: "I'm proud of you Stefan, for helping that guy. I know that it was difficult for you, but you did it. Now I will leave you alone, so you can continue talking about the match."

Stefan Raab: "I did it to shut you up, so you would leave me alone. See you later."

Elton went back to the hotel room as Stefan wanted to stand around for a bit before getting another cigarette out of his pocket and lights up, continuing to talk about the rumble match.

"Now I got people I have respect for out-of-the-way. I then move to some of the wrestlers that I can't respect at all, people like The Guv'nor and Buckson Gooch, but I start of with The Guv'nor. Really you go around and call people slags? What are you a Hermaphrodite? Slag's is the weakest insult that you can give to a male wrestler. You only call people slags if they are women that sleep with other guys, not ones that rant about things you stupid cunt.

You make me sick with your so-called gangster insults, and how you think you are tough. Sure you're undefeated but sooner than later you'll get defeated, especially when it comes to the ladder match at Rasslemania that you have zero chance of winning. Just stop pretending to be a man, and actually admit that you are a Hermaphrodite with female body parts on your body. You are nothing but a pompous prick to me, especially when hardly anybody can understand what the fuck you are saying.

Now I will talk about the most selfish guy in APW, known as Buckson Douche, oops I meant Gooch but Douche sounds better. Why is it that every time I hear about you, that you seem to go for title shots all the time? I mean you are in a number one contenders match for the tag titles, along with having an Extreme title shot against Michael Lively and AC Smith, and now you are trying to get yourself a Heavyweight title shot? You greedy mother fucking pig. It's just as bad as you kissing ass to nearly the entire roster as well.

People like you are making an APW company a joke now, taking away chances of other people wanting a title shot. I been on Asylum since September, and not once have I complained about not having a title shot, but yet you seem to get a free way ticket and you aren't a real wrestler, well especially when you work in a farmyard.

You're an ungrateful bitch that only wrestles for title shots, and not for your passion for the sport. Just like Young Mannie with the family thing. I don't give a fuck about Mannie's nephew, or your wife and kid you have Buckson.

Speaking of Young Mannie. Everyone seemed to be impressed on your wins over Phil Atken and The GI as of late on Asylum, but guess what? You haven't impressed me at all. Phil was off his game that night and handed you the win, and who hasn't beaten The GI? My god even Mr. Dangerous could beat The GI. Come on let's be serious here, that those wins you got wasn't REAL competition for you. Hell you couldn't even beat Jason Kash who came to Meltdown to wrestle you. Sure you stopped smoking weed and well done for that, but your head is buried behind Charlie's backside a lot. Be a man and ditch your nephew so you can become a better wrestler, than you currently are now."

Stefan almost forgot that there was another top name in the match known as Delikado, as the rain started to fall and Stefan had to walk to the bus stop shelter because his light on his cigarette went out, and he re lights his cigarette.

"Isn't it bad that I barely noticed about Delikado being in the match, since he is near enough irrelevant now? I always called you Dilhole, because you are really weird guy that used to run around with this rabies crap. I'm surprised that nobody else in the Overdrive locker room, got your deadly disease especially your former butt buddy Evan Envi, who has already dumped your ass because you become weak that nobody notices you around anymore, since you lost your title to Mark Mania. Not even close on being a threat to this match."

Stefan continued to smoke on his cigarette for a bit before continuing to talk.

"As for the rest of you that I didn't mention, you weren't important because most of you are starting off in the rumble, or the fact that there's nothing interesting about any of you. I'm not going to waste my time, talking about each one of you non Asylum and Overdrive idiots, because you most likely will be long gone when this match is over.

I still don't know why I'm in this match, but I guess it makes up for me not being allowed to wrestle on Asylum a few weeks ago, because of me attacking fans which is a fucking stupid reason to ban me from wrestling, but Reginald is a useless Asylum general manager just like how crap Jeff runs this shit hole APW company.

I need to show these two fuck ups about how I deserve on being more well-known on Asylum, and how much I deserve to get decent match up's rather than ones against Slade Craven all the time, but I bet my next match after Jeff at Rasslemania is Slade Craven again, because Reginald is a lazy cunt that doesn't realize how boring the same old match is over done."

Stefan had to take a bit of a break from talking for a while before he continues to speak again.

"I'm planning to go out on a war, with people that suck Jeff's and the APW management's penis's and nipples, because those people are the ones that I dislike the most on following their rules, and help their favorites get the things they want. Another thing is that majority of you are friends with one another. What happens when you are in the ring with your friend, let them throw your ass out of the ring?

No you stand on your disgusting feet and throw their asses out of the ring. That's not an issue with me at all, since everyone hates me and that's good because I have no plans on making friends with anybody in the APW locker room. I'm the most hated man in APW, and I am going to continue to piss people off after this worthless match is over, because compared to any of you that have Rasslemania matches, I have the biggest spot on the card being near enough a main event match to wrestle on while all of you are in dark, beginning or even in the middle of your matches at Mania.

That's what makes me different, and that's why there is more chance of me winning than any of you do since you don't have confidence like I have. All of you that are on Meltdown except for Megan, Cid and Nathaniel are all delusional, not even relevant at all. Hell Meltdown was sending me to sleep every night, until those three appeared on Meltdown to make it more entertaining again.

I don't care for respect or making friends with you losers in the match, because I am not that person. I'm Stefan Raab, the most disrespectful man in APW, and its working so good for me that I will continue to do so, not giving a fuck in the world about anybody.

Sure I helped a homeless guy tonight, but that was only because to shut my friend up. I didn't even want to help him or give him money. It was just something to do to get it over and done with, just like how you all will get thrown the fuck out of the ring by me, and all of you will prepare to be Raabinated by The Killerplauze before I go back to do more training for my match against Jeff, and getting my surprise whatever that is after Rasslemania is over."

Stefan finished talking for the night as he continued to walk late at night doing a lot of thinking, before getting some sleep in his hotel room.

TAGS; Everyone in the Meltdown Invitational Rumble and President Jeff
WORDS; 5005 without coding and 5339 with coding
OUTFIT; Black coat with 2 shirts on with Jeans and black shoes.
NOTES; I done quite a bit of Character Development on this RP as I barely ever do stuff like that since there was a lot of words to work with. Good luck everybody in the match.
CREDITS; FlawlessGFX Exclusive for STEFAN RAAB
LYRICS; “Cannibal” by Static-X

[Speede]

Roy Speede Roleplay #1
TIME TO SHOCK THE FUCKIN’ WORLD!

The darkness of a cold mid-March evening settles in over the city of Toronto, and we find ourselves peering in through the window of what appears a fancy Italian restaurant. Waiters and waitresses elegantly promenade across the floor of the dining room, bringing plates layered with luscious meals and retrieving those that have been emptied, reaching for glasses to fill them with exquisite red wines or water or whatever might be the beverage of choice of the particular individual sitting in the fully cushioned seats spread throughout.

Our focus for the evening, however, is not on the restaurant as a whole. In a booth in the back corner, positioned adequately far enough from our perspective, especially from the center of such, that one would not hardly think to notice that in this very booth, we recognize not one, but two people. To the furthest side of the shot from us, it can be seen that APW’s very own Roy Speede is sitting, a breadstick in one hand and the other gripping a fizzy, dark-colored beverage, and across from him sits a young redheaded woman, someone who has been introduced multiple times to us as Meghan Morrison, looking as jovial and exuberant as ever in a vibrant cerulean dress.

As our young hero takes a bite off the end of the breadstick, he sets it back on the table and takes a sip from his drink. While this goes on, a fork is noticed in Meghan’s hand, and she appears to be picking through the remnants of what was once a salad in a bowl in front of her, but now is nothing more than a few shredded carrots, a piece of lettuce that appears slightly off color, and a hint of Italian dressing, or something of the like quite similar. Our perspective shifts, and we move to a table much closer to them, perhaps ten feet away.

A waiter steps between the table at which they sit and our perspective, and the fold of where his shirt has come un-tucked in the back becomes noticeable. After a moment, he proceeds back from the direction in which he had approached, and our perspective zooms slightly farther, enough that some of their conversation can be heard.

Roy Speede: “He kept telling me I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t ready, but I learned right away never to listen to my cousin; I told him, you know what I told him? Oh, darn, did I already tell you this story.”

Meghan Morrison: Yes, Roy, I’ve heard this story so many times. You always tell this when you’re getting ready to make a big return after taking time off. Your cousin was the sort of foil to you that Banquo was to Macbeth, the guy who didn’t think you’d ever make it as far as you did, and always thought it must’ve been foul play that got you there.”

Roy Speede: “Oh, wow, I didn’t realize I was getting that repetitive already. I’m sorry, Megs. I’ll stop with that then.”

Meghan Morrison: “Oh, no, go ahead. I don’t mind; in fact it’s kind of nice hearing you talk about how you told your cousin to go screw himself because he’s a selfish little moron and never supported you. I miss watching you compete in that ring and it’ll be good to see you back in action again.”

Roy Speede: “Well, alright, but the exact wording I used was ‘Go fuck yourself, you egomaniacal, self-centered, pessimistic little jackass.’ Not to correct you or anything, but that’s more realistic to what it was.”

Meghan Morrison: “Oh, I know that, Roy. I remember very clearly; I was just trying not to use such foul language, especially in a crowded and exquisite a restaurant such as this. Excuse me for misquoting you like that.”

The sarcasm in Meghan’s voice in that last sentence sticks out like a swollen and sore thumb. It draws the rolling of Roy’s eyes at the comment, but after a brief pause, he laughs it off, while it’s evident he’s trying not to comment rudely upon it. A waiter approaches again, obstructing our vision, and a couple of incoherent words are exchanged between the two while the waiter is in the way, and after a few moments he leaves again, having taken Meghan’s salad bowl with him away from the table. With our view now unblocked, the conversation between the two picks up again a bit more actively.

Meghan Morrison: “Look, I’m just saying, Roy, there is a time and a place for everything, and in the middle of one of the nicest restaurants in all of Toronto is not the right place to be mouthing off like a pirate captain out on the Caribbean. If you want to talk like that, save it for later, and be polite for once! Seriously, you come here and you’re not even wearing a sport coat. It’s like I’m on a date with a teenager again. Use some common sense for god’s sake, Roy, it just doesn’t seem like you care anymore.”

Roy Speede: “First off, I get what you’re saying about censoring my vocabulary a bit more in here, but I’ll do it at my own discretion, and if I’m quoting something that was said elsewhere I’m not going to go about it and act like what was said wasn’t exactly what was said. I’m going to quote it exactly as I remember it. Second, you forget that I’m only twenty years old, and that you’re my age, Meghan. You forget that when it comes to the whole fact of the matter, the world still looks at us as teenagers until we turn twenty-one. Why do you think that’s the legal age for alcohol? Why do you think people don’t treat us the same as they do people who are in their mid twenties by now? Why do you think people look at us and think to themselves that we’re immature or irresponsible, even though we’re a lot more responsible and mature than most people our age? In their eyes, we are still teenagers.

And third, Meghan, get it through your head that I’m not going to wear a tuxedo just to get dinner tonight. I’ve had a long day of training to make my return match to Action Packed Wrestling in a huge Meltdown Royal Rumble match that not all of the competitors are even announced for, a match that I myself am a surprise competitor in, and I’m tired of trying to be perfect and formal about everything; I want to relax a bit, and right now I’m surprised I’ve even got this stupid tie around my neck. When we get back to the hotel, I’m going to strip down, slide into bed, and fall asleep while I still have some moonlight left to sleep through because I know that when the sun comes up I’m going to end up doing the exact same thing and getting up to train.

Why do you think we’re even here, Meghan? If it weren’t for the return match I’m competing in, we’d be back in Richmond eating at IHOP and watching The Avengers on Netflix, or something equally as informal as we typically do. I don’t like formal, and I thought this would be a nice treat to celebrate my return match and the rebirth of my career in perhaps the most prolific company in the history of professional wrestling, whose talent has made far bigger headlines than most of them are worth. Hell, if it weren’t for this job we wouldn’t be able to even afford something quite this fancy I don’t believe, and the fact that you’re so complacent about the whole idea of this meal, next time we’ll go through the drive thru and I’ll get you a double cheeseburger, hold the onions. Okay? Okay. Glad that’s off my chest.”

Complete silence falls between the two of them as Meghan sits there staring at him, her jaw hanging open very slightly, and it’s obvious she is dumbfounded by what he’s just said. After a few deep breaths pass, she looks over at the table where our view is coming from, causing a quick spin from the focus around to the menu on the table. After a moment we hear her voice starting to speak, and slowly turn back toward the table to see that she’s got her sole focus on him again.

Meghan Morrison: “Are you really starting this sort of argument with me right now? I’m not in the mood to deal with this kind of crap from you, and you’re really frustrating me. I was about to get our the gift I got you to surprise you and give it to you to celebrate eight months together, but with this kind of attitude I’m not sure I even want to spend another minute with you. It’s a disgrace that I have to put up with you in public when you’re behaving like this and if you don’t get your act together I’m not going to subject myself to this kind of embarrassment anymore. If you don’t get your head on straight, we are through. Do you understand that?”

Roy’s eyes grow wide with every word she speaks, and he nods ever so slightly at her words. Without another word out of his mouth, he takes a sip of his beverage, and then looks back up at her, getting ready to open his mouth to speak when the waiter again approaches them, this time with a tray on his shoulder and a stand carried in the other hand to set the tray on. He sets out the stand and then sets the tray down and begins to serve the food, and the camera pans back as a female voice can be heard behind us.

We turn to see a waitress is coming to take an order, and after one is placed, she slowly turns to walk away. The focus turns back to see that the waiter is picking up his tray and leaving Roy and Meghan’s table, and for a moment, we watch as they just look at one another, neither saying a word before their attention turns to their food and they start eating. We remain in this hushed, almost awkward silence for some time until Roy takes a sip of his drink and then opens his mouth to speak again.

Roy Speede: “After we finish eating, I’d like to stop at the arena on the way to the hotel if you don’t mind. I’ve got some business I need to take care of, and with this match coming up so soon, I want to make sure I get it out of the way as soon as I can.”

Meghan Morrison: “Oh yeah? What sort of business would that be, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Roy Speede: “I really need to film my recorded statement to send in so that my voice is heard in terms of this entire match that I’m going to be competing in. I need to hype my match and make myself look good in front of everybody before the match rolls around, psych out my opponents, and give myself the mental advantage to go with the fresh and ready-to-go mindset I’m currently in because I haven’t competed in a while.”

Meghan Morrison: “Okay, I can understand that, and of course we can stop while you record your statement. Knowing how things usually go for you, it won’t take you but a minute; you’re always good speaking in front of people, and you’re good in front of the camera. You’ll do just fine with that.”

Roy Speede: “It’s not so much that I’m nervous, it’s just that I need to get it done while I still can, before everybody else starts crowding the arena in hopes that they can do the same thing, or worse, when the night of the show comes and I haven’t sent anything in and have to record it during the show. Those things always get interrupted by the entrance music of other wrestlers when that happens and I don’t want the same thing to happen when I record mine.”

Meghan Morrison: “Don’t worry about it, Roy. I understand. I understand completely; we can stop and record the thing if you want, and I’ll even be your camera girl... if you’d be willing to let me, that is.”

Roy Speede: “Of course, Meghan. That’d be great; you can do the camera, and I’ll do the speaking, and we’ll submit my recorded statement as a team effort.”

Meghan Morrison: “Okay, that sounds like a plan. Just uh... Don’t mess up now, okay?”

She laughs, as if she were teasing him, and Roy forces a bit of a laugh, playing along. After a moment, Roy finishes his meal, and Meghan finishes hers, and Roy reaches into the pocket of his pants. From it he pulls a rectangular box in a shade of very dark navy blue, with a baby blue ribbon in a diagonal pattern holding it tightly shut. He hands it to her.

Roy Speede: “Before I forget, happy eight months.”

She slides the ribbons slowly off of the box, and then removes the lid to reveal a silver necklace with a heart pendant adorning it. She reaches her hand into the box and her fingers pull the heart into her palm; she lifts it from the box and looks at it very closely for a few seconds before looking up at him, a wide smile on her face, which is turning slightly red in a blush. She removes it from the box and slowly puts it around her neck, fastening it at the clasp and letting it hang perfectly around her neck. She puts the box down on the table next to her plate and smiles.

Meghan Morrison: “Roy, you didn’t have to do something this nice for me... Thank you. I got you something too, although it’s not nearly as fancy as what you got me.”

Meghan opens her purse and pulls out a box of her own, this one a completely black color and much thicker, although not as long, and about as wide. She hands it to Roy, and he opens it without any ribbons to remove; from the container he removes a stainless steel watch with a dark face and a teal luminescent light. He slides it on his wrist and grins.

Roy Speede: “How did you know I needed a watch? And it’s all set and everything... Thank you!”

He closes the box and smiles as the scene fades into the parking lot of the restaurant, where Roy and Meghan are in Roy’s rental car, Roy behind the wheel and Meghan in the passenger’s seat. They are on the highway and Roy is reaching a solid 105 kilometers an hour, or 65 mph for you Americans, as they cruise ever closer to the arena, which is just past the next exit to the right.

Roy Speede: “Thanks again for letting me record my statement tonight, Meghan. I really appreciate it.”

Meghan Morrison: “Of course, Roy. It gets this step out of the way for later on, just like you said, and it gives us the entire night to ourselves after we get this thing over with. I really just want to be able to take some time to relax and chill with you before you have to go training tomorrow.”

Roy Speede: “Relaxation sounds like a plan to me, but first things first we need to get this recorded statement out of the way and get back to the hotel. The more time this takes, the less time we have to spend together, and I know I need to get some sleep tonight because I’ve got to be up training early tomorrow.”

Meghan Morrison: “Oh, Roy... At least you’re trying to learn your priorities and you’re giving me some of the attention. I’ll give you that much. But you’re not going to spend the entire night working on this thing and then get right back up and go training first thing tomorrow either, mister. I’m going to make sure you sleep in with me for a while in the morning, at the very least.”

Roy Speede: “If you say so, Megs. I don’t want to end up angering you any more than I already seem to have done so tonight. That would be catastrophic.”

Meghan Morrison: “Oh, don’t worry about me. You know me, Roy. I’m the girl who is quick to anger and just as quick to get over that anger as if it never even happened.”

Roy Speede: “Yeah, and that’s just one of the things I love about you; there are quite a few others out there too, I’ll admit, but that’s really a big help for me because I hate making you angry and getting into arguments with you. I can never win.”

Meghan Morrison: “What was that, Roy? Did you just admit you can never win an argument with me?”

Roy Speede: “Well, I-“

Meghan laughs as the vehicle rolls into the parking lot of the arena, which is all but empty for the time being. Roy pulls the car up into a parking spot right near the staff entrance, and the two get out of the vehicle almost simultaneously before proceeding to the door. Upon noticing it is locked, Roy knocks loudly, and a ring hand lets him inside; he holds the door for her, and then walks in himself, and the two proceed in a little ways before they find a room labeled ‘studio’. Roy knocks softly, but there’s no answer, and they go inside.

Inside, they find a fancy director’s chair type of seat, and Roy moves it into the center of the room before sitting down. Meghan turns on the camera that sits on a tripod some ten feet away, and focuses it directly on Roy, who nods. Meghan gives him a thumbs-up, and he starts to speak.

Roy Speede: “Guess who’s back in the game after a nice long break? Here’s a hint, ladies and gentlemen, it’s NOT Azrael Goeren! Any guesses? Anyone? How about you in the back? Blade? Pfft, NO! Another clue for everyone... He’s sitting right in front of you, and he is the one, the only, the Silver Lining of Professional Wrestling’s darkest hour, on the hunt for another shot at glory in the company that shot him down as nothing more than a rookie and a talentless hack and had him competing for months on the class-clown, no-talent show instead of in the main event of Overdrive where he belongs.

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, the rumors are true. It’s me. Roy Speede is making the return of a lifetime right here in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, right here on Meltdown in what has been billed the ‘Meltdown Invitational’. I’m making my return in a Rumble match that’s been told to be thirty wrestlers deep, and the man who beat the odds just by setting foot in an Action Packed Wrestling arena is going to silence all the haters once again by beating each and every wrestler in that ring come Meltdown.

‘But Roy! You couldn’t even fight your way out of a paper bag the first time you competed on Meltdown!’ Where does that sound familiar, I wonder... Oh, right, it’s every single person on the roster who watched me make an untimely departure from this company a couple months ago after a fall-out with a now former tag team partner, Donald Deruty. But apparently unlike D-Day, I stepped away from Action Packed Wrestling with something to prove. I stepped away from Action Packed Wrestling, the best wrestling company IN THE WORLD with the full realization that, dammit, I belong here.

And I belong AT THE TOP.

See, that falling out really took a lot of my energy away, and it sort of shook me to the core about competing in a wrestling match again. I kind of lost that determination that had stayed with me for so long and given me the strength I needed to set foot in the ring against big names like Delikado, Evan Envi, and Kurt Noble every week, and I knew that I was drifting down into a slump of failed performances that would be my downfall and would have me convinced never to compete again, and to quit doing what I love. I was on a path toward stopping my wrestling career and giving up competing in front of each and every one of my fans every night.

But now? I got that fire back, baby! That passion, that burning desire to be the best in the business has been lit in me anew with the realization that I’ve got a chance to truly get recognized as more than the opening-card sellout of the rookie television program in a company that has for so long misused its greatest talents. I heard about the Meltdown Invitational, and I got me an invite to the match that’s basically a who’s who of competitors in this company who aren’t being given the chances they deserve, and I’ve got that fire back to win.

I’ve heard some of the names that are rumored to be competing in this match, too. Such competitors as Stefan Raab and Tommy Knoxville, such competitors as Buckson Gooch, The Guv’nor, and even my old rival, Jason Kash, have been reported as possible competitors in this match, and I’ve got a history with a couple of those guys that makes it that much sweeter of a chance for me to get the chance to make my return and surpass both of them in the same night. It’s just a righteous reward for me that I get to see those guys crash and burn in the wake of my rise to fame, and the only thought about that remains...

They can get LIT UP for all I care. They can crash and burn into a huge pit of flame, just like their careers have already done here in Action Packed Wrestling where guys like The Guv’nor and Stefan Raab aren’t getting the recognition they deserve, where Buckson Gooch is failing to cash in on the opportunities he’s being given, and where guys like Jason Kash, who were once World Champions, once Main Eventers of every show, are now being lowered down from their supreme level of talent to that of losers like myself who society says shouldn’t even be in the profession of wrestling.

Kash, where did all of that fame and glory go? Where did your success and dominance go?

Gooch, what happened to those chances? What happened to becoming a champion on Overdrive like you should’ve been?

What about the rest of you? Why aren’t you being given the opportunities you’ve surely earned, while guys like Keaton Saint and Warren Peace walk around this company with big bulls eyes on their chests and the top titles of their respective brands hanging from their shoulders? Why haven’t you gone and taken what’s rightfully yours?

This company has taken your names, and smeared them into the mud, and this Meltdown Invitational Rumble is only going to further extend that smear into a shit stain large enough that a whole freaking box of Oxy Clean couldn’t take care of it. Rest in Peace, Billy Mays, but this is a mess that not even your signature endorsement deal could take care of. And I’m not letting myself become a part of the smudge.

This is my moment to go from the lowest rung on the ladder and take a trampoline’s bounce way up to the top of the totem pole, surpassing all of those names that have been overlooked to be given the shot that I know I’ve deserved through the hard work, perseverance, determination, and dedication I’ve given toward my wrestling career and toward being the best damn wrestler in this entire business. This is my opportunity to return not only to the point I was as an established low-card semi-talented hack, but to show that I’m the talented megastar that has such ability as only previously been displayed by such names as Azarel Goeren, Terry Marvin, John Green, and Sally Talfourd in this business.

And you had best believe I’m not going to slack off and let some no-name from hell in a hand basket come swooping in here from above and take this opportunity from me, or let some established veteran begging for another chance to be in the spotlight steal it away from the up-and-coming legend that is The Silver Lining Roy Speede. I look at everybody in this match, from the rising stars like Stefan Raab, to the current stars like Warren Peace, and the past-their-prime athletes who have been in this business too long for their own good, like Jason Kash, and I see one thing.

I see disappointment. Of every athlete that even makes it this far, I’d be willing to wager that ninety-five percent of them will never see a World Championship reign or an Undisputed Championship reign, and that over half won’t even hold a belt other than to keep their pants up in their entire lifetime. I see all of those hopefuls looking toward this match as the opportunity to take it to the next level, having been active here for weeks, months, maybe even a year or more in some cases without success, and I see disappointment because as much as they want it, they don’t have the drive, the determination, the fiery passion for this business that is required to be at the top.

I look at those guys who are currently in the spotlight and trying to keep their fists clenched tight around the success that they’re currently riding. I see them looking over their shoulder, paranoid and in the midst of a warzone with each step they take, scared that it could be their last as champion, their last as a contender, their last in their career before they drift off into the past, drift off into obscurity, and I see that they know they can’t hold on forever, and the disappointment that comes with losing such success is imminent but they just don’t want to give it up. They’ve got the determination and the drive for wrestling, but there will always be someone better.

Then I direct my attention to those guys who are past their prime, those guys who have held championships and made a name for themselves in this business over the course of their careers, and in some cases have held multiple World Championships and numerous other belts, and I can tell that they’re begging for this all not to be over. I see their pleading eyes begging me for another chance to shine, another chance to be recognized as the greatest when they know they’re not the best they can be anymore. I see them losing their passion, I can see the heart they still have for this but the fading talent, the weakening body, and the mind overpowering their bodies until they’re nothing but shattered shells eroded by the ever-changing tides of the wrestling world.

I finally look right at myself, and realize that I’m all three of these categories.

I am the guy at the bottom of the totem pole, the guy looking to climb the ladder of success, wanting to make it to the top of this company because I know deep down that’s where I belong. I’ve got the ability and the talent of those guys just waiting for their chance to shine.

I’m the guy already in the spotlight just by showing my face in the APW. I’m the guy who has the drive and determination for this business, the guy who has the aspiration to be great and the ability to back it up, and I am that someone who is better.

I’m the guy who’s been in the spotlight before, and knows what it’s all about. I’ve got the mindset of a true champion, and I know what it takes to get there. My career before APW has given me the knowledge of what to expect, but I’m still blessed because I have not yet reached the stage where my prime is gone, and I’m right there, right now, and I’m going to keep on going with it.

And I realize, I am the one who will win this match; I’m the one who will go on to compete for the Overdrive Championship or the Undisputed Championship, and I am the one who will go on to main event Rasslemanias for years to come, because, simply put, I am the perfect blend of drive, determination, ability, talent, skill, and heart, backed with confidence and pride to become the best wrestler the world has ever seen, and nobody will get in my way; not Raab, nor Knoxville, nor Kash, nor Gooch, nor anybody else on the entire APW roster will stand in my way from greatness, and you know why?

Because that’s the Silver Lining in all this. That’s the light peeking through the dark cloud, the shadow of doubt that’s been cast upon this company, and I’m pushing through to the end on my way to true glory, and if some of these guys have to get Lit Up and shown that their time is over for me to do it, so be it. The Meltdown Invitational Rumble is my time, and not anybody else’s, and when all is said and done, this is my opportunity. I’m going to go out there come Meltdown, and I’m going to do what I do best. Come Meltdown, it’s...

TIME TO SHOCK THE FUCKIN’ WORLD!”

Roy nods his head and Meghan turns the camera off. Roy stands up and the two cross the room toward the door, and we slowly fade to black.

[Delikado]

Delikado RP #1

--Delikado Audio Interview, Part 3, Section 5—

“Like a Bawse!” Credo of what should be all wrestlers and, to a greater extent, the wrestling gods themselves, but these people working under the phrase and living by its teachings is only a sliver of the platform that is the true, FACT!ual mega-being of wrestling’s arriving renaissance and REAL APW biz-nass….DELIKADO! The Cuban who is and will ALWAYS be a foundation of the newer, better-er direction this company is headed. Undisputed Champions reside in clouded vision, mistranslating; and the “peers” supposedly shared shudder and weep within when they comprehend the FACT! that despite being “old” and “with extended history” that should net any other a retirement, Da Bawse is just getting started! Each and every brand, from Overdrive to Asylum to Meltdown, see Delikado in action and they know, THEY KNOW, THEY. KNOW. That the Cuban Warrior is Wrestling 101 on how to see what you want, and how to take the crap out of it.

Because at the end of the day, boys and girls, Delikado is a Champion of Sport! Me, Deli, I am a guider, a fighter, and a trend-setter that history will explore for generations to come…if not because I’ll still be alive and guiding their learning! Being hot and sexy and world-defying-ly amazing are in the genes, yo, and they’re traits that’ll be draped on my shoulders and waist---WITH lots of title gold to accompany them—through all days and within every saga of the sport. Delikado has and will become an insurmountable model to how in…CREDIBLE wrestlers should be today, be they starting out, veterans, legends, or Hall of Famers who stumble around our halls but don’t know when to give up. Even now, in our present with presence as you hear Deli’s words or read the inspiring transcript to be, Delikado’s name is on more stuff and is more renowned than ever as the bitches clamor and fight amongst themselves to try and be as beloved and successful as myself. Foolish of fools…but also understandable. I mean come on, who WOULDN’T want to be where Delikado is now?! All the way here in Toronto for an epic Royal Rumble thingamabob on…………………….Meltdown? OH WHAT THE FU--

Some-Kinda-Something-Productions presents
B
-U T O P I A-
S
S

[/color]

Episode 37- "An Anger-Induced Piece"

The Carnival

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Edger G. Gallagher takes the laptop and smashes it over and over onto a penguin, effectively beating the shit out of it, before Joey the Lizardman uses his weird half-lizard/half-man tail to grip the penguin by its flipper and fling it into a barrel. The Mime uses his mime powers to squeeze two penguins into a mime box, which he stores away into an actual box that is flung into a wagon of boxes, likely containing the squawking Adélie Penguins. Don’t worry, none of them are dead. Or harmed for that matter. Little known facts that I just made up: Penguins don’t feel anything. Surviving creatures begin to emerge from their hiding spots, hissing at and steadily surrounding the carnies. Sha-Nay-Nay the Circus Bear roars at a group of them but the penguins roar back just as mightily (because screw you and your non-roaring penguins!). Midge the Midget swings a pipe and kicks her little leg at a smaller penguin, causing the animal to grunt in annoyance. Gallagher, through his poshness and swirly moustache, snarls and destroys his laptop over the penguin’s head. The penguin responds by shaking off the hit and extending its wings, and thus making itself look larger, much to Edger’s chagrin.

Edger G. Gallagher: Useless wankers!

Boss Delikado: No, no, NO! Destroy your penguin with STYLE, Moustache, or they’ll be unimpressed and just gangrape you.

Delikado appears out of seemingly nowhere and cracks the larger penguin in the beak with his boot, breaking its penguin teeth and shattering its penguin resolve.

Boss Delikado: Everyone knows penguins can only be defeated by wrestling moves! It’s how we know they’re descended from people!

Edger glares at the Cuban, who is holding his fists up in a defense formation. The entrepreneur slowly gets the picture, holding up his own fist in a similar, albeit goofy-looking, formation. A penguin commander bellows at the group and charges their way, before Sofia cracks her whip in its path, causing the creature to stumble.

Gallagher: Here I go! FOR THE QUEEN!

Gallagher swings his fist at the penguin and is able to connect with its forehead. The penguin slumps over, long enough for Ron Reynolds to dive off a nearby ticket booth and perform an elbow drop, finishing the beast. The penguins begin to fall back as their numbers have shrunken, and Delikado, smoking his signature cigar, points at them before clenching his fist powerfully and threateningly. The penguins wave their flippers and retreat.

Joey the Lizardman: Isssssss they gone from usssssssss?

Sofia Monzón: Probably just making a tactical retreat again. They don’t give up easy.

Gallagher: *snort* I could have told you that, my dear. I have experienced the wrath of these demons before in my travels. Be glad we do not have to contend with them in their own domain of Antarctica.

Midge the Midget: This…This is so wrong.

Everyone looks over…and down…at the little lady as she releases her hold on the lead pipe and begins to walk away.

Boss Delikado: Guess she has a short love of the fight.

This gets a few glances from everyone else, as Delikado grins impishly. Meanwhile, Midge is walking alone along the gate of the carnival, lost in nervous thought. She walks by a section of long, uncut grass, and is oblivious to the predatory eyes watching her. A click of flippers on pavement is heard seconds later, and a penguin rushes out of the grass toward Midge.

Midge: Leave me alone!

The penguin squawks at Midge and closes in, even as she throws a can at its head. Little missy runs as fast as she can as the penguin recovers, but as Midge turns the corner, a second penguin pounces from the long grass and pecks her with its beak. Penguins are douchy like that.

Midge: SQUEEEEEEEEEAK!

Delikado appears once again out of seemingly thin air and delivers a Last Call to Cuba onto the penguin, sending it flying over the gate into a nearby moat. Gallagher grabs the second one and snaps its neck, causing Delikado to stop in surprise at the particularly vicious tactic.

Boss Delikado: Dude, kayfabe.

Gallagher: ….Whatever. You wrestlers could do this if you so desired. Chokehold with a little twist, heh…

Coldly the lead carny drops the penguin to the floor and scoots it aside with his shoe. Bawse and Ringleader exchange a staredown that continues to show their simmering dislike of each other. Midge is helped up by Sha-Nay-Nay the Circus Bear, who cleans some of her wounds with his bear tongue. The shaken-up midget exhales deeply.

Midge: I…I’m-I’m done. I don’t w-w-w-want to d-d-d-do this any-m-more…

Boss Delikado: Whatchu talkin bout—actually, that’d probably be funnier coming from you. Hold on, I’ll say something and you respond by saying “Whatchu talkin’ bout, Deli?” It’ll be HILARIOUS.

Sofia: Not now, Deli.

Boss Delikado: Oh come on! I mean HOW often are we gonna get to hear that come from an ACTUAL midget again? Should I just call Gary Coleman and ask him to—ooh, you just made it awkward. Thanks, Sofia…

Midge: No! I don’t want to be at this carnival anymore! It’s too strenuous week after week trying to work. I-I could be out doing STUFF, people! REAL stuff with my life! And yet here I am, wasting away on an endeavor that, let’s be honest, means NOTHING! So j-j-j-just let me get cleaned up, and I wanna go home.

Lizardman: But Midgey, you issssss home!

Midge: My REAL home. Back in Toronto.

Boss Delikado: Great. Another useless gift from that mooching hat on America’s head…

Sha-Nay-Nay roars at Delikado and then begins to grunt to his carny friends. The Mime makes various gestures at that are lost on Deli and pals and would take too long to translate. Gallagher, a piercing look in his eyes, smacks his lips at the side as he watches Midge wipe away tears.

Midge: I’m sorry, you guys. Honest. I want to be here and work with you all…but I just don’t feel it in me right now. It’s a chore, a CHORE, doing what I used to LOVE doing, right now. Maybe someday, when this mess is over, I can jump back in that carny game, but penguins and fighting over territory? That’s not what this should be about.

Delikado glances at his watch. Meltdown Battle Royal thing talk anytime soon? Nah, let’s deal with the midget and her first world problems.

Lizardman: But we needsssss you right now, Midgey! All the plansssssss, the futuressssss!

Sofia and Delikado exchange looks now. The Mime looks to them both and points between them and Midge.

Lizardman: Yesssssss, Cuban Bawsssse, Misssssess Cuban Bawsssssse, what you think? Help ussss out, pleassssse!

Boss Delikado: Let her go. No skin off Delikado’s back.

Sofia mimics the same answer with her facial features. It’s no real loss to Deli Tee Vee if they’re a person short (heh-heh).

Lizardman: Sssssso cold….

Midge: Please, everyone. This is what I want—

Suddenly, Gallagher rips Midge off the ground by her hair. He then, carrying her flailing little body with one hand, walks over to a magic box used by magicians and flings Midge into it. The boxed is marked “Never Seen Again Box-o-Wonders”.

Midge: EDGER, NO!!

The almost psychotically calm Ringleader slams the lid down, locks the box, and tears a sheet off a wall. He sets it over the box as Midge wails inside, covering it, and waves his hand once. He mutters something quick in Latin, causing Midge’s cries to cease, and when he removes the sheet and opens the box…..Midge is gone. All that’s left is an egg. Gallagher reveals this to the horrified carnies and the stunned Deli and pals, before he takes the egg and throws it onto the pavement, crushing it and spilling egg yolk everywhere.

EGG-TINCTION!!

Egg yolk and sweat drench Edger’s face as he looks up from the chaos to everyone else. He runs his hand over his face, smoothing his hair back, and extends his arms casually like he’s saying “Yeah, I turned a girl into an egg and then crushed it. What up?”

Gallagher: She didn’t want to be part of the carnival anymore.

With a twirl of his moustache, Edger looks devilish and stares into Delikado’s eyes before he walks away. The disturbed carnies look at what’s left of “Midge”, speechless as silence lingers over the carnival grounds. Delikado leans casually over to Sofia.

Boss Delikado: Soooooo…..smashing performance from the little people, huh?

Sofia tilts her head in disbelief at the Cuban, finding no amusement in what transpired…

(o)(o)(o)(o)(o)(o)

--Part 7, Section 6.4--

Would “immortal” be the word to pair Delikado with best? Maybe. After all, rumor has it people bless Delikado as being a “genius”, and everyone who’s anyone knows that only geniuses get to be immortal. It’s just common immortalizing decency. Props to that guy who commonly associates Delikado with such smartness of mind and everything else, you just might be onto something. But yes, now that Delikado’s anti-Meltdown tirade has come to an end—available in parts “4” through “6.999” when they’re available on Blu-Ray—he’s had time to analyze the underlying FACTs! that come with this match, with welcoming me into this Meltdown Royal Rumble or whatever you wish to label it as, for it matters not. It matters not what you call it, for no matter the name it is granted, Delikado will triumph and use the rewards promised to maneuver as he sees fit. Delikado will be the “Cuban Fireball” that slams into Planet Meltdown and wipes out all the hopeful inhabitants, aka my opponents, and it will surely engage a REAL APW advancement the likes of which have yet to occur. It will be an impact so hard and heavy, so fast and amazing, the shifts it engineers will be felt for years to come in the APW. FACT! Those who choose to oppose DA BAWSE might carry similar ideas and possess fires of their own, but their appearances are simply spur-of-the-moment. They aren’t genuine, and their results will be less than. Jason Kash perhaps? Unnecessary is his being here, because it will accomplish nothing. NOTHING! It’s by luck he’s even welcome in a ring outside Asylum. Or perhaps it’s this guy who calls himself The Guv’nor who will outflame. Again, Delikado is a skeptic. He’s more based off planning and strikes Deli as having better judgment in making Meltdown his bitch, but if doing so, if this Guv’nor staking his wooded berry claim means it comes at Da Bawse’s expense , you can better only one figurehead leader will stand tall. Spoilers this one time, you guys:

It’s gonna be me.

Because doing what Deli does, LIKE A BAWSE, means that even if Delikado has luck like Kash in getting a spot in this match, it ALSO means Delikado’s blessed with unbreakable sexiness and has drawn the best hand in the form of his boots, for adventure and fortune favors the in…CREDIBLE Bawseness, of which there can only be one. The main attraction of this match is most definitely NOT the ‘Main Attraction’ what’s his face, because the image of any “Main” and “Attraction” goes, again, to me. It’s obscure and almost comical to suggest otherwise, and the image of Mannie standing in any sort of triumph is more humorous than any sketch Delikado could invent…

…or a Robina Hood “I’m tough” attempt. Stupid woman, kitchens are for you.

But alas, maybe Delikado is too harsh. Maybe he should revel in the kindness like when he gave his young protégé Jimmy Gooch firewood—err, books—and gave his old man a fur coat. Maybe Delikado could do more damage to his foes by undertaking a thoughtful process of elimination mindset, perform surgical-close research on the strengths and weaknesses of each and every man, woman, and Jake Titan; maybe even Deli could change his ways and embrace the equal challenge and equal opportunity amongst us all, with the hope that the present APW would become better BECAUSE we worked together to make this a super-special match for the ages. After all, that IS what Delikado’s Papa would have done.

………And those reason are why Delikado is NOT his dear Papa. Rest in pieces, ya douche!

DELIKADO WILL SMITE HIS ENEMIES! RAMPAGE ALL OVER THEIR LITTLE USELESS FACES! BRING ME TO MELTDOWN, YOU ALL MELT DOWN! THAT IS THE PLAN AND IT CARRIES UBER-WEIGHT! Even you, fair Goochie, I warn you now and fairly brother: Delikado wants this, and when he sees red and gold mix together before his eyes, NONE shall be spared the effects of Cuba’s Most Unstoppable Warrior! The times call for ACTION, and action will set forward the TIMES! Not war and peace for Warren Peace, but a rhythm and a rate of high ASS-KICKING as the gifts to all the NOT-Delikado’s! The tours will end, the survival guides will be left incomplete, addictions will send you plummeting back into your cage, and the highlife will only guarantee you have high amounts of sky to fall through before you explode into the ground like a little bloody BITCH PUDDLE AND YOUR LIFE ENDS, COURTESY OF MEEEEE!! PRIASE THE GENIUS CUBAN, HALLELUJAH!!![/color]

(o)(o)(o)(o)(o)(o)

At the carnival yet again, Edger G. Gallagher is sitting by a window sill, smoking a pipe and staring almost numbly out at the carnival grounds he once completely controlled, as if he’s having an outer body experience allowing him to relive the old days. His fearful carnival employees are a few feet away, huddled together trying to stay out of the way of their ruthless master after he sent Midge to the next dimension. Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Delikado and Sofia are dealing with matters of their own regarding good ol Edger.

Sofia: You saw him, Deli. The look in his eyes. Deal or no deal, he’s not giving up this carnival.

Delikado, busy looking through a trashy tabloid magazine, is clearly only paying half-attention as he reclines in a chair.

Boss Delikado: Who? Me?

Sofia: Edger! Jesus…How can you act like you don’t care?

Boss Delikado: Delikado cares…..just……not really any…..

The Cuban continues flipping through his tabloid, until Sofia aggressively approaches him and pushes the magazine down in an attempt to get her Bawse’s attention.

Sofia: Look at me!

Boss Delikado: Hey, come oooon, Delikado was reading about Mr. Dangerous’ run for the next Presidency. It was enlightening, if not a little terrifying…

Sofia smacks Deli in the face.

Sofia: Listen. You either deal with Edger, or you focus on the Meltdown Rumble. Your choice.

Delikado doesn’t seem to take much of an interest in dealing with either, but when he sees Sofia’s gonna be the typical woman and force him do stupid stuff against his will, he sighs and glances toward the distant Edger.

Boss Delikado: Ugh, fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine…..Egg boy’s days are numbered.

Sofia: Tell me the number’s “zero” and I’ll do him myself.

A funny look crosses Delikado’s face as he looks at the slightly bloodthirsty shine in his ex-lover’s eyes.

Boss Delikado: Now…when you say “Do him yourself”, do you mean—

Sofia: I mean I’ll make him disappear faster than he made that dwarf vanish.

Boss Delikado: Oh. Cuz it sounded like something else that would make you a slut. I’m gonna go ahead and just say you were gonna do the first thing I thought. Slut.

Sofia frowns at Delikado, who proceeds to lift up his tabloid magazine close to his face and glance through, only to glace above the pages once to meet Sofia’s gaze before quickly retreating his eyes back to the gossip columns.

Lizardman: Oh noesssssss, more penguinsssssss!

Everyone turns to Joey the Lizardman, who is glancing out a different window. Upon inspection, it’s revealed that a new wave of Adélie Penguins has arrived on the inner part of the carnival. This is the biggest wave yet, and no doubt the strength of the colony. Delikado kips up from his chair, already wielding a champagne bottle.

Boss Delikado: Delikado tires of these pelicans! Let’s end this!

The carnies nod with some slight hesitation before they pile out of the room. Gallagher finishes smoking his pipe and sets it back into his pocket before grabbing an old cane he found and walking down the stairs with it. Along the way, he passes Delikado and Sofia a look that is far from friendly. When he’s gone, Sofia, walking behind Deli, mutters to him persuasively.

Sofia: I don’t even need a reason. Just tell me to do it.

Boss Delikado: …..Ok, are you SURE you mean to attack him and not bag him, because—

Sofia smacks Delikado in the back of the head, ceasing his questioning and sending him swearing under his breath as he rubs the back of his noggin.

Delikado here, back to commentate yet another scene as it plays out before your eyes. How do I do so? Magic, motherfucker. I gots ‘em Harry Potter skills better than that ginger-loving dweeb ever did. You know how Stefan Raab has mastered the art of being mentally stupid and a worthless competitor not worth listening to much less looking at? That’s me…only if my mastering was of being top-tier talent and deserving of all good things said and given unto me. Action and genuine smarts bring this Cuban professionally to the battle field before us, and to the grander Meltdown Rumble, whereas it brings lesser-than’s, NOT-Delikado’s on the receiving end of a boot to the mouth! Think on it, for we’re getting into the final battle now, bitches!

Ron Reynolds steps forward and extends the old wooden pirate leg, his weapon of choice, at the approaching penguins. Painted up like black and white warriors, with pink splashed onto their bodies in places, the Adélie Penguins bellow a battle cry. They are still a far enough distance away, as Delikado and the team move forward. They pass an old food court that has yet to be cleaned up along the way, and Delikado briefly glances at large, rotted fishes lying on slabs. He nudges toward Edger, the closest one.

Gallagher: I see them.

Boss Delikado: Then keep them from those birds. Delikado suspects they’ll go apeshit…err…birdshit, if they get ahold of those tunas.

Edger keeps walking at first, until Delikado holds out his champagne bottle, blocking his way.

Boss Delikado: Hey. Remember our deal. After we finish off the last of these beasts, we get eighty-percent of this carnival. Let’s keep it peaceful like, don’t make Deli send his bottom bitch to beat you down to two-percent.

Gallagher’s eye twitches, but Delikado misses it as he focuses on the penguins. The Ringleader glances to The Mime, who nods softly. The gang stands only a few yards from the penguins now, with one of the birds walking forward and blowing mightily on a trumpet to declare battle. The carnies (minus Edger) are tense, while Deli, Sofia, and Ron Reynolds remain calm.

Delikado fights no battle the same. He handles no week similarly to another. What? You think Kash or L1 or Cid Phoenix could take on a week like Delikado’s doing so here? Not likely. Not likely at all. And that’s what’s gonna lead this Cuban to victory, the grander victory, in the months ahead. That is the genius philosophy, the LIKE A BAWSE scenario, that produces originality every time, so that it can be manhandled and overcome every week! The forces of war do not stop Delikado! The madness does not hinder Delikado! DELIKADO COMMANDS THE MADNESS EASIER THAN MERE SIMPLETONS COMMAND THEIR HANDS IN A WAVE!!


(begin at 2:05)

The battle commences…with Edger grabbing the tunas and flinging them in the direction of the penguins! The penguins immediately chip up and converge ravenously on the dead fish bits.

Boss Delikado: OH, YOU WRETCHED—

BITCH! This Meltdown Rumble will make one of all who stand in the way of Da Bawse! This is the battle that Delikado imposes his Grand Master Plan upon the APW! It starts with Meltdown, and then onto Rasslemania, where everything shall come together in a glorious fusion! For some, it would be the beginning of the end, but for Delikado…it is the end OF THE BEGINNING!! PROLOGUE: DONE!

Gallagher: Learn to deal with it!

The penguins consume the tuna like locust, seemingly intensifying immediately in their ruthlessness, and they quickly return their focus upon the humans. Gallagher beats down two penguins, having apparently mastered the art of penguin combatting. Delikado swings his champagne bottle and strikes down a larger penguin approaching. Ron Reynolds suplexes a penguin atop his many brethren, and then delivers a swift axe handle to two more. Sofia whips and cuts through the penguins the swiftest of all, like a sensual knife through butter…if the butter were Near Threatened Adélie Penguins!

The fans of this business already know Delikado! Hell they know him and understand and appreciate him better than any present-day APW athlete seems capable of doing. They know what achievements and successes Delikado is capable of, what achievements and successes Delikado has already PROVEN himself capable of! For over seven years! SEVEN *RECORDED* YEARS. Delikado has inspired confusion and utter astonishment in his adversaries, both in the ring and outside it, and he has taken advantage of it! Indeed, Delikado has undone many great men and women throughout his career, and you Kash, you Guv’nor, you Mannie, you Raab, you Hood-rat, you FOOLS WHO LOOK TO OPPOSE WHAT CANNOT BE STOPPED, think yourselves unable to be affected and undone by Delikado’s ways? WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! WROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG!

Surprisingly, the combined efforts of the carnies and Deli Tee Vee seems to be breaking through the penguin ranks, even IF the beast have consumed the tuna. However, as the battle pushes its way deeper into the penguin colony, a backstabbing look crosses Edger’s face as he stands behind Delikado…and boots him into a charging penguin! Delikado manages to roll past the beast and clock it with a champagne bottle…only for Edger to throw a second penguin directly at the Cuban’s head! The projectile penguin immediately latches onto Delikado’s ear, causing the Cuban to wail and try to fight it off. The Ringleader grins and keeps fighting to save himself.

GAAAAAH! PENGUIN ON MY EAR, PENGUINS—oh wait, Delikado’s commentating here. Ahem, yes, Delikado has defeated Industry Standards, Benevolent Ones, Noble Ones, Venom weed-heads, Warlords, Undying Men, Phenomenal Ones, Collective factions, I’ve won Royal Rumbles and maintained a survival instinct from entry #1….ALL BEFORE I CAME HERE! ALL IN A WEAKER DELIKADO STATE! You think that makes you immune, you little ingrates?! NO! It makes you twice as likely to fall when the fire rises!

The penguins tackle Delikado and begin to swarm him. The end appears very well close for Delikado it would seem, until Sofia dives in with her whip and lashes out at the penguins with it. She quickly clears them out and helps Delikado up. Bleeding from the ear, the Cuban’s eyes light up angrily as he nods silently to Sofia. Miss Monzón can only smile as she cracks her whip and spins around and pulls out some sort of whistle from her shirt. She blows on it once, revealing the whistle to be some sort of silent whistle like for dogs…and the penguins stop fighting. They immediately lose all focus and waddle away—waddle, waddle—out of the carnival grounds. The carnies fail to notice why this occurs, as Sofia hides the whistle back in her shirt. Edger looks around, turning to see Delikado survived the penguin assault. He clears his throat and adjusts his moustache casually in the face of the glaring Cuban.

Gallagher: My apologies, Cuban. I merely undertook an idea to see if the fish might have adverse effects upon the demons. Perhaps I should have run it by you first, in addition to looking where I kick and throw these monsters in the midst of battle. It shan’t happen again, on my honor.

Boss Delikado: Totally cool, bro. Think nothing of it. Delikado’s learned…

Slowly, the Cuban pulls a cigar from his coat and bites down onto it. He lifts his lighter up and lights the cigar between his teeth with a deadpan expression.

Boss Delikado: To deal with it.

Da Bawse and the carnival Ringleader are eye to eye for what has to be the millionth time. The Cuban inhales heavily as he puffs on his cigar. He blows smoke into the air, enjoying this celebratory smoke, and he even…starts to laugh. Gallagher pauses at first, not sure what to make of the gesture. The carnies stand confused as well, while Sofia and Ron Reynolds stand with their proverbial fingers on the proverbial trigger. Delikado continues to laugh loudly, and Edger eventually smirks himself. He chuckles softly….LAST CALL TO CUBA ONTO EDGER G. GALLAGHER!!! It’s like glass shattering as Edger flies back from the kick to the face, crashes into a tent…and the tent sinks into the ground—it’s an enormous sinkhole, like a chasm into the earth’s core!

Edger G. Gallagher: NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Edger, screaming and clawing for anything at all as he falls back, plunges into the sinkhole and vanishes forever. Punishment has been delivered.

Boss Delikado: Huh......totally not intended or foreseen, that right there...

The Mime, perhaps the only one loyal to Gallagher, suddenly runs for his life while the remaining carnies stay put.

Sofia: Shit, Deli, that mime’s making a run for it!

Delikado cracks his neck and bites down onto his cigar. He sprints after The Mime, who is apparently miming a scooter so as to move faster, and climbs a fire escape in an attempt to flee. Sofia and Ron Reynolds apprehend Lizardman and the Circus Bear, who put up no fight. Meanwhile, Delikado at first is too slow to catch The Mime, who is near the top of the exceptionally high fire-escape but understanding the rules of miming himself, Da Bawse stops and holds up a gun—a finger gun.

Boss Delikado: BANG, BITCH!

”Firing” the gun, Delikado “hits” the Mime, who holds his chest and stumbles near the edge of the fire-escape. He goes over the rail, but Delikado is able to “throw” an “imaginary noose”, which catches The Mime around his neck, and “hangs” him! The Mime kicks and holds his throat in mid-air…but he goes limp moments later and “hangs” from the fire-escape. Without a shred of sympathy, Delikado finishes smoking his cigar and flicks it toward The Mime’s form before walking away. An almost relieved look lingers in the Cuban’s eyes as he returns to his group. The rabid bloodlust has been quenched…for now. Delikado comes back to Sofia and Reynolds, who have tied Lizardman and Sha-Nay-Nay together. Sofia looks toward Deli.

Sofia: You get him?

Boss Delikado: Duh.

Sofia promptly smacks Delikado in the mouth, causing him to reel back in surprise and pain.

Boss Delikado: Owwwwww! Just…Just owwwwwww!

Sofia: That’s for calling me your “bottom bitch”.

Boss Delikado: Hey now, that was a term of endearment for you—

The screen cuts to black as we hear a second hard smack.

Boss Delikado: OWWWWWWWWWW! YOU HIT DELIKADO IN THE EXACT SAME MOUTH SPOT!!

Are you not entertained, bitches?! If you are, then look forward to the Meltdown Invitation Rumble. Delikado’ll make that TWICE as entertaining! FACT! And if you weren’t entertained and are looking for something different from me here or at the event…you need to lighten the hell up. Adios for now, loving fanbase.[/font][/size]