Post by The Xtremist on Feb 14, 2008 17:04:26 GMT -4
The locker room was empty, silent. A setting that did not suit the scarred, burned and always drunken Xtremist Tony Blackwell at all. He was used to loud bars, screaming music, wild moans from the ladies and fire burning through flesh, bone and steel. In short, he was a fan of disorder and absolute chaos.
*Tony raises his bottle of Jägermeister to his lips and tips it. He closes his eyes as the liquid slides down his throat and lands at its temporary stop at his stomach. After finsihing a quarter of the bottle’s contents, he places it down and looks at his own locker*
It has been only a short time since the younger Blackwell had returned with his older brother Trevor, the proclaimed career killer,from their four year trip to Japan. But in this tiny span of days, hours, minutes and seconds they have been back, the two Blackwell men and their sister, the Hardcore Princess Kristina Blackwell, had already joined another Federation. Another place to show their dominance in their trade. One more set of titles to hold and add to the treasure chests of belts.
* The Xtremist reached for and grabbed his boots from the metal structure. He slid the black footwear onto his feet and tied them off tight. Once they were on, the drunken powerhouse of the Blackwell dynasty stood up and took yet another long chug of his faveorite beverage. As the bottle came down from the burned lips of the pyromaniac, a knock was heard. Turning to see this source of noise, Tony saw the equally burnt face of the Career Killer himself Trevor Blackwell and his sister, the long legged Hardcore Princess Kirstina. Both nodded in a greeting, needing no words to speak the thoughts in their own minds.*
Gold, the only reason Tony still was fighting, risking life and limb every night he got into the ring to fight. It was his main cause for returning to, for coming to APW. He would fight, maim and destroy all challengers for titles, just to claim the contendership, the title, for himself. It didn’t matter to him if he won it fairly or through dirty tactics. A win was a win, no matter how many low blows and chairshots were inbetween the bells.
*The Xtremist moved his hand over a belt which lay on the bench. He picked it up and slung it over his shoulder. It gleamed from the light, showing the letters IWGP Tag Champion. A simliar belt is seen being place on Trevor, showing the same title name. Both Blackwell men reached into their pockets and procured large reefer sticks, AKA blunts, lit them and inhaled. A few seconds would pass and both men would exhale, letting the smoke invade the normally drug free locker room. The Princess of extreame only smirked as she grabbed both of her brothers blunts and smoked them.*
The time of peace, silence and relaxation that Tony had loathed was coming to a end. Soon, the crowds of the US, the fans in Canada and all over the North American continent will see the Powerbomb Prince, the Drinking Duke, the Xtremist Tony Blackwell return home.
* The Blackwell family finished their reefer and helped Tony gather his leftover gear. The Xtremist emptied the bottle he started here and left it in the locker, a reminder for the next one to use this metal space, that Tony Blackwell was here. The trio started to leave, but was blocked by Tony. He had stopped to turn and look into the room one more time.*
Tony: Its time to get to work…..
* Tony turned back around and walked out of the locker room. He did not stop moving until he reached his bike, the third love of his life next to Jägermeister and wrestling gold. If one looked closely at the bike, one could see a tiny inscription simply saying “ Fuck Twisters Rage! – Kaos”. Tony got on his ride and started her up.*
Tony: From here on out, there will be no peace, no silence, nothing sacred! I will not stop until I am the champion of APW. And I will die trying if necessary…
*Tony raises his bottle of Jägermeister to his lips and tips it. He closes his eyes as the liquid slides down his throat and lands at its temporary stop at his stomach. After finsihing a quarter of the bottle’s contents, he places it down and looks at his own locker*
It has been only a short time since the younger Blackwell had returned with his older brother Trevor, the proclaimed career killer,from their four year trip to Japan. But in this tiny span of days, hours, minutes and seconds they have been back, the two Blackwell men and their sister, the Hardcore Princess Kristina Blackwell, had already joined another Federation. Another place to show their dominance in their trade. One more set of titles to hold and add to the treasure chests of belts.
* The Xtremist reached for and grabbed his boots from the metal structure. He slid the black footwear onto his feet and tied them off tight. Once they were on, the drunken powerhouse of the Blackwell dynasty stood up and took yet another long chug of his faveorite beverage. As the bottle came down from the burned lips of the pyromaniac, a knock was heard. Turning to see this source of noise, Tony saw the equally burnt face of the Career Killer himself Trevor Blackwell and his sister, the long legged Hardcore Princess Kirstina. Both nodded in a greeting, needing no words to speak the thoughts in their own minds.*
Gold, the only reason Tony still was fighting, risking life and limb every night he got into the ring to fight. It was his main cause for returning to, for coming to APW. He would fight, maim and destroy all challengers for titles, just to claim the contendership, the title, for himself. It didn’t matter to him if he won it fairly or through dirty tactics. A win was a win, no matter how many low blows and chairshots were inbetween the bells.
*The Xtremist moved his hand over a belt which lay on the bench. He picked it up and slung it over his shoulder. It gleamed from the light, showing the letters IWGP Tag Champion. A simliar belt is seen being place on Trevor, showing the same title name. Both Blackwell men reached into their pockets and procured large reefer sticks, AKA blunts, lit them and inhaled. A few seconds would pass and both men would exhale, letting the smoke invade the normally drug free locker room. The Princess of extreame only smirked as she grabbed both of her brothers blunts and smoked them.*
The time of peace, silence and relaxation that Tony had loathed was coming to a end. Soon, the crowds of the US, the fans in Canada and all over the North American continent will see the Powerbomb Prince, the Drinking Duke, the Xtremist Tony Blackwell return home.
* The Blackwell family finished their reefer and helped Tony gather his leftover gear. The Xtremist emptied the bottle he started here and left it in the locker, a reminder for the next one to use this metal space, that Tony Blackwell was here. The trio started to leave, but was blocked by Tony. He had stopped to turn and look into the room one more time.*
Tony: Its time to get to work…..
* Tony turned back around and walked out of the locker room. He did not stop moving until he reached his bike, the third love of his life next to Jägermeister and wrestling gold. If one looked closely at the bike, one could see a tiny inscription simply saying “ Fuck Twisters Rage! – Kaos”. Tony got on his ride and started her up.*
Tony: From here on out, there will be no peace, no silence, nothing sacred! I will not stop until I am the champion of APW. And I will die trying if necessary…
