Post by Boomer Brown on Sept 16, 2012 0:05:27 GMT -5
[Scene: GEW Arena (Marrero, Louisiana); more specifically, the announcer's booth. Boomer Brown, the voice of Global Extreme Wrestling, stands before a wall-sized banner reading 'WCF/GEW SHOOT TO THRILL 2012'. He's wearing a sportcoat, a tie and a headset... and he seems rather excited.]
Boomer Brown: Hello, WCF fans - this is the Voice of GEW, Boomer Brown, coming to you from the GEW Arena! The same arena where, this very weekend, the stars of WCF will be joining us for the biggest show Global Extreme Wrestling has ever produced, SHOOT TO THRILL 2012! We've got a hell of a show lined up - for starters, we've got two WCF title matches announced! Ophelia Pain, WCF's Vixen of Violence, will go one on one with a man who's no friend of The Misfits, WCF Internet Champion Stuart 'Scoutmaster' Slane! The Internet Title will be on the line... Slane has made no bones of his unwilling attitude toward this contest, but like it or not the title will be at stake! Also, the WCF Television Title will be up for grabs as that despicable but crafty Eric Price takes on 'Rising Star' Kale Windsor and 'Sultan of Smooth' Tommy Kain in a match...nay, a tradition, that GEW helps to keep alive- a THREE-WAY DANCE. You want blood and violence? You want special guests? Well, how about this action: we've got WCF People's Champion FPV teaming up with his old friend Logan, or as... she... is now known, 'Sarah Twilight'... to take on the team of recent WCF acquisition Mariko 'Sado' Shinoda and her boyfriend who hasn't been in the ring in two months, WCF International Champion Kira Sakazaki! Mixed tag action as only GEW would bring you, this Sunday at Shoot to Thrill! We've got a tag match between GEW's British Invasion and WCF's 8th Wonder- should be fantastic, no matter their records- and if that wasn't enough tag action for you, we've got a match we're calling 'NINE MAN PANDEMONIUM'! Prophecy - GEW fans may remember Tek and Steeltoe Joe from their visit to the Arena a few months back... this time they've got Hank 'Thunder' Lane with 'em - will step into the ring with three of the Misfits - L.A. Kief and the Saintz of Sin, Ryan Pugh and native New Orleanian Johnny Stylez - AND the Church of Dark Saints team of native New Orleanian Zombie McMorris, the beastly Famine of the Vile and former GEW superstar Andy... uh, Andrew... Warhawk! And that's not all - we've got a TAIPEI DEATHMATCH between Synn and Joel Hall... and a huge pair of main event matches including Oblivion vs. Corey Black and a CLOCKWORK ORANGE HOUSE OF FUN MATCH between Jay Price and the Polar Phantasm. For those of you expecting a WCF Slam this week, here's your warning: Unsuspecting WCF fans, we'd like to advise you that anything can and will happen at a GEW show, meaning that as always the card is subject to change... and you shouldn't miss a minute of it. Another match that everyone is looking forward to is "Hellbilly" Waylon Cash versus "The Mack" Steve Orbit. Both huge names in the WCF-- this match could have easily been a main event, for sure. Both fan favorites, this will be one of those classic matches that people talk about for years to come--
Voice off-screen: TOOT TOOT! Ho train, comin' through!
[Just then, Steve Orbit walks into the scene, in full pimp gear and walking with a cane, followed by six sexy-ass women of all different colors and nationalities. Orbit is carrying a bottle of Hennessey, and he is definitely feeling "loose".]
Steve Orbit: Wassup, Boomer?! Yo, I love Louisiana! I'm havin' twice as much fun as last time!
Boomer Brown: That's great, Mr. Orbit, I was just talking about your match with Waylon Cash--
Steve Orbit: Yo, forget about that... YO! Check out these bitches!
[The camera pans quickly to show all the girls as they wave and smile.]
Steve Orbit: I'm doin' my thing out here! You see this, Waylon? This is what a single man do. This mother fucker probably sittin' in his hotel room watchin' Sex in the City with his old lady, cuttin' her mother fuckin' toenails and shit!
[Orbit lets out a huge laugh, and the girls laugh along with him.]
Boomer Brown: So, Mr. Orbit, you think I could have a few words with you about the match?
[Orbit takes a big swig out of his liquor bottle.]
Steve Orbit: You crazy? Hell nah! I'm partyin', mother fucker! Peace out, let's go bitches! TOOT TOOT!
[Orbit struts past Boomer Brown, giving his girls a big wave to follow him. Orbit bumps into Boomer as he passes by-- the girls all do the same. Boomer gathers himself afterwards, adjusting his suit and brushing himself off.]
Boomer Brown: Uh, where was I? Oh... yes. Of course.
Boomer Brown: This weekend, we take professional wrestling back where it belongs... we take it to the extreme.
[Scene: a dark alley. We see a man in a green and black martial arts robe/costume get up with a green facemask... he's sitting on an overturned milk crate next to a shopping cart full of trash.]
Reptile: I keep hearing all this shit about deathmatches... and hardcore... and extreme... from these losers coming down here from Pennsylvania. Some of them sound like they might know a thing or two... or they just want us to think they do. Some of them sound like they wouldn't know hardcore if it hit 'em in the face.
[Reptile picks up the GEW Deathmatch Title from his lap, then stands up throwing it over his shoulder as he does]
Reptile: This weekend? Shoot to Thrill? Yeah. Somebody's gonna get some hardcore in the face. Somebody's gonna get themselves a face full of Deathmatch Title. Somebody's gonna feel the Venom Bite.
[He spits.]
Reptile: Don't worry, WCF... you don't have to find me. I'll find you. Trust me... I'll find you.
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[Scene changes to the Crown and Anchor Pub, hangout of the British Invasion. The two men stand toward the back of the crowded pub, near the dartboard... Richey Razorblade, a tall Brit with thick black hair and a friendly face, draws up two names on the chalkboard next to the dartboard. Meanwhile Sir Robert Duncan, a portly mustached fellow (not a Brit?) drinks a healthy swig of a bottle of Newcastle.]
SRD: Cor blimey, that's the stuff. What say you, Richey? Nary a drop of the piss for you so far
RR: That's cos I'm planning to win this game, Sir Robert.
[Richey moves and we see 'RR' and 'SRD' written up on the chalkboard. Richey quickly whips the darts at the board, three in quick succession... all three hit the board, two landing roughly a millimeter apart inside the '16' region of the board's surface.]
RR: Not a bad go. Sir Robert?
SRD: Right, right. Jolly good.
[Sir Robert Duncan carefully measures, then whips a dart at the wall. It sticks into a wooden door reading 'LADIES'. The door opens and a horrified looking woman comes out, then briskly moves through the crowd towards the front of the bar.]
SRD: Ah, yes. Well. Try, try again, then.
RR: So what do you make of these 8th Wonder wankers?
SRD: I've been told they've got half a mind.
RR: Yeah, but there's two of 'em. Still might give us a go.
[Sir Robert throws his second dart, which hits the dartboard but bounces off and sticks into a barstool.]
SRD: Blast! What manner of treachery is this?
[He throws the third, which hits the bullseye. Sir Robert laughs, triumphantly throwing his arms up. In the process, he knocks his beer to the floor.]
RR: Just do that two more times and you're onto something, chum!
SRD: I'm winning!
RR: Actually, you're... sure, Sir Robert. You're winning.
[Richey tosses two darts in quick succession, both hitting the bullseye.]
RR: Either way, we've got Sunday locked up tighter than-
SRD: The Tower of London!
RR: -couldn't've said it better m'self, chum.
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[Scene changes to a suburban home... the front porch, specifically. This is a house we've seen before... it's Antarctica. It's the boyhood home of the Polar Phantasm... a man we see sitting on a porch swing, wearing a 'GEW' t-shirt and a pair of blue sweatpants.]
Phantasm: It's a new day. It's a new day for me, for sure... I'm finally where I'm supposed to be in mind and body, and in life even.
[He lifts both hands, one rubbing the other. His wedding ring is quite visible.]
Phantasm: It's a new day for GEW. The company where I got my start has gone from small-time indie fed to hosting a full-on cross-promotional event with the international wrestling juggernaut who I'm proud to work for today. It'd be one thing if I'd come up and left GEW behind, but it's a whole 'nother animal entirely when the entire promotion I came from followed me up the ladder. It's a new day of unparalleled success.
[The Phantasm nods solemnly.]
Phantasm: It's also a new day for Jay Price. A career of successes and failures, ups and downs, titles won and lost... all of that's behind you, Jay. You might not have gotten married or changed your name, but the song remains the same. You're starting a new chapter, same as I... and both of us want to start with a win. That said, I'm at the top of my game... and you haven't been in the ring since the Team of Treachery took you apart.
[The front door opens off camera... Phantasm looks up with a smile as Nightmare joins him on the swing.]
Nightmare: What'd I miss?
Phantasm: Just got to giving Jay Price a message.
Nightmare: Oh, good. I'm ready. Go ahead.
[He stares at her for a second. She holds up a pitcher and two plastic cups.]
Nightmare: Kool-aid? It's Tropical Punch.
Phantasm: ...well, fuck yes to that. But back to what I was saying- Price, you're not going to get a walk out of me. You'd better be ready for the fight of your life... and you'd better be ready for an awful lot of pain. Sunday night I may be walking into 'your match', but you're coming to my turf.
[Nightmare hands Polar a plastic cup.]
Phantasm: GEW awaits, Price... I'll be ready. I already took the 'kid gloves' off and everything.
Nightmare: Oh, that's terrible.
Phantasm: Really? I thought it was poignant and humorous.
Nightmare: You've done better, baby.
Phantasm: You got anything?
Nightmare: Oh, don't worry. I'll get something together...
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[Backstage, we hear "TOOT TOOT!", and then we see "The Mack" Steve Orbit with his "ho train" following behind as he struts down the hallway towards an exit door. As he gets halfway down the hall, the exit door opens, and in walks Waylon Cash, Steve's opponent for Shoot To Thrill. Steve slows his roll a little bit, as Waylon approaches... they stop in the middle of the hall and face each other. After a brief silence..]
Steve Orbit: Waylon Cash, my man.
Waylon Cash: Well, if it ain't the Mack.
[Another brief silence...]
Steve Orbit: Hey homie, I just wanna say good luck on our match, man. I just want you to know, I ain't got no bad feelings towards you, you feel me. We cool, and I hope we still cool after Shoot To Thrill.
Waylon Cash: Yeah, we're cool. Let's just put on a show for the fans, represent the WCF as two of it's top talents... and may the best man win.
[Orbit puts his fist up and Waylon pounds it.]
Steve Orbit: Cool, man.
Waylon Cash: So, I mean... after I beat you, don't take it personally, alright? It's just a little friendly competition. Let's just keep it professional, man to man.
Steve Orbit: Oh... after you beat me? [laughs] You hear that ladies?
[The girls start to laugh.]
Waylon Cash: Yeah, after I beat you.
Steve Orbit: Let me tell you like this, Waylon. I ain't walkin' out the GEW Arena as a loser, no. I'm walkin' out as a winner, and it's unfortunate for you, because, you know, I think you alright. But I got this one in the bag, Waylon, you just gon' have to accept that.
Waylon Cash: GEW loves me. I know you've been down here too, but they know me. The fans are gonna get behind me, and I'm gonna beat you, Steve. Hands down.
[Orbit's heard enough, and starts to walk away.]
Steve Orbit: Yeah, whatever man. Talk that talk, I'ma go finish havin' my nice party with these bitches. You need a bitch? As you can see, I got plenty to go around.
Waylon Cash: I'm engaged-- you know what, that's not the point. You know what your problem is, Orbit? You don't have any respect for anyone. You don't even respect yourself.
[Orbit turns around and gets in Waylon's face. Waylon runs his hand through his hair, locking eyes with Orbit.]
Steve Orbit: That right?
Waylon Cash: Yeah, I've heard you complain about how people stereotype you, and don't respect you... listen man, respect is earned. To get respect, you have to give respect. I'm not trying to start anything with you, I'm just telling it like it is.
Steve Orbit: So what the fuck you call this? I came out here and said good luck, like a mother fuckin' gentleman. If that ain't respect, what you call that?
Waylon Cash: That's not what I'm talking about. Take last week for example, when you grabbed Ophelia Pain's ass right in front of her boyfriend. That was so disrespectful, man, and you wonder why people look at you the way they do?
Steve Orbit: That fuckin' skank? You think I wanted any part of that bitch? What you saw, was called strategy. I knew their weakness and I exposed it. End of story. I'm sorry if your country fried ass brain can't comprehend complex plans like mine can.
[Orbit's girls look at each other like "uh-oh, shit's about to go down". Cash and Orbit stare each other down.]
Waylon Cash: You know what, Steve, I'll see you Sunday night. I'll beat some respect into you.
Steve Orbit: ... Or maybe I'll beat some respect OUT of you.
[Scene fades with Orbit and Waylon face-to-face.]
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[Scene changes to the nighttime sights of Bourbon Street. Throngs of people push past the group mid-scene, a group notorious among the ranks of Global Extreme Wrestling... a despicable group of spoiled brats known as Urban Decay. The three largest men in the group - Freak, Fatboy and 420 - all hang toward the back, looking around as if uninterested in their promo segment. The smallest of the group - Hooligan - is wearing a neck brace and a t-shirt reading 'Fuck Waylon Cash'. The group's leader - GEW's World Heavyweight Champion, D-K - leads the party wearing a 'Melvins' t-shirt and a large golden belt.]
D-K: And they call us spoiled- these Pennsylvania bitches are barely even wrestlers! They've all got million dollar contracts and endorsement deals up there... down here, it's not about being rich or famous. Unless you're us, anyway- well, me. No, down here it's about violence. I've seen your little TV show, WCF... you don't impress us one bit.
Hooligan: Fuck those bunch of fuckin' fucks.
420: Fuckin' fucks!
D-K: Shut up, you morons. See, I'm a real wrestler... not some TV reality star like these WCF chumps.
[Freak and Fatboy split off from the group, heading towards a guy holding a huge sign reading 'BIG ASS BEERS'.]
D-K: I've defended this title in Japan, I've defended this title in Canada... I've defended this title in Mexico. Hell, I've even defended this title in Texas and that fuckin' place isn't anywhere close to being America.
[420 and Hooligan both split off, heading into a place called 'HUSTLER'S BARELY LEGAL'.]
D-K: I'm a REAL World Champion, something none of these WCF chumps could ever claim. Even the 'great' Jonny Fly is no match for-
[D-K cuts himself off, looking to his iPhone]
D-K: Oh shit, my dad's letting us use the house in the Hamptons this weekend guys! What do you say- beat up on some fake-ass TV wrestlers or go to the 'good beach'?
[He turns to see he is alone.]
D-K: Fuck 'em.
[He turns back to the camera.]
D-K: And FUCK YOUR SHOW. I'm gonna go try and fuck Chelsea Clinton.
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[Our scene begins with Markus Jayson and Kelvin Staylor next to a computer. Of course, Markus Jayson and Kelvin Staylor don’t know how to use a computer because they’re idiots. Jayson can be seen tapping on the monitor while Staylor is underneath the desk playing with a few cords. After a few seconds the screen on the computer finally turns on.]
Jayson: Got it! It just needed a little tap-tap.
Staylor emerges from underneath the desk and takes a seat in front of the computer next to his half-brother.
Staylor: Okay, so what now?
Jayson: Well that Boomer dude from GEW told us that we need to answer our fan mail this week. He said he had it set up for us on this computer. The question is; where do I find this ‘email?’
Staylor: Oh. Why don’t we just Ask Jeeves?
Jayson: Who is Jeeves?
Staylor: I usually find him on the…internet. He is very smart.
Jayson: *gulp* I’m scared, Stay. Don’t make me go to the place that always tries to make my wiener bigger.
Staylor: No dude, those messages go away if you give them your credit card number. No big deal!
Jayson: Well, okay, here goes nothing…
[Jayson clicks on the Internet Explorer browser icon and enters the internet world. A Yahoo homepage emerges on the screen.]
Jayson: Okay, how do I find Jeeves on here?
Staylor: Hmm. Good question. He usually just pops up for me.
Jayson: Oh, hey, look at that! Naked German Monk is trending!
Staylor: Click it!
[Markus Jayson clicks the link and is taken to a web search with results about some dude walking naked in a forest.]
Jayson: Whoa! Apparently this dude ate some berries and starting tripping balls. He got naked and was found wandering the wilderness in Germany.
Staylor: Click pictures!
[Jayson adheres to the request and clicks the link for pictures of naked german monk. The first thing that pops onto his screen is a ‘Safe Search’ notification, suggesting inappropriate content ahead. Unfortunately, Jayson can hardly read to begin with so he presses the correct buttons to bypass the content warning and comes to the pictures. The first picture is of some berries. The rest are basically naked people.]
Jayson: AH!!
Staylor: NAKED PEOPLE EVERYWHERE! TURN IT OFF!
Jayson: THAT GIRL IS EATING A HOT DOG BUN WITH A WEINER IN IT!
Staylor: THAT NAKED DUDE IS ON THE OTHER DUDE!
[Jayson frantically fumbles around with this mouse, managing to click out of the screen and the internet entirely. Staylor just stare at the monitor, unsure of how to proceed.]
Staylor: I feel like I just got raped.
Jayson: Just wait until Scoutmaster learns we just looked at naked people on the Internet. He’s going to destroy us!
Staylor: Okay, okay, let’s regroup. What do we do now?
Jayson: Quit?
Staylor: Yeah! Let's go eat some Crayfish and play the saxaphone!
-------------------------------------------
[Scene changes to a hallway, backstage at the GEW Arena. A well-coifed handsome gentleman and a spiky-haired punk kid are walking down the hallway as if they owned the place. These are the 'Egomaniacs', the team of Brandon 'Your Role Model' Richards and Michael 'Your F'n Hero' Dugas.]
Richards: For those of you who don't know yet, this is Global Extreme Wrestling... and GEW belongs to the Egomaniacs.
Dugas: The fans know us, they love us... they look up to us. We're the greatest of all time.
Richards: Bar none! Everywhere we go backstage, people love us!
Dugas: That guy's our biggest fan. He loves us so much he can't even speak to us without shitting his pants.
[They throw open a door...]
Richards: Hey, locker room- it's your role model!
Dugas: And your hero-
[They are greeted by a growly woman's scream. A sharpened spike hits the wall behind them.]
Dugas: -oh, fuck that!
[The Egomaniacs run off screen. Nightmare comes out, face half-painted with her old flame face-paint.]
Nightmare: These are no longer the flames of my past... they are the flames of my present. They are the flames of a phoenix risen. They were war paint... but now I burn for something else. Payback.
[She smiles an evil smile.]
Nightmare: Corey Black will give Oblivion at least as much pain as I could, I'm sure of that... which means this Sunday, Nathan von Liebert, these flames burn for you.
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[The screen cuts to FPV, sitting on the bar at the old ToT Nightclub. He has apparently been meditating up there for quite some time, only now opening his eyes to gaze into the camera.]
FPV: Man, this place...I love this place. Brings back memories of when me and Logan would run rampant on the trashcans of the WCF. And now, even if he isn't Logan by name, we'll do it again to the GEW. Kira, Sado, I have much respect to the both of you, as fucked up as Kira has been the past couple of week. But you two, just know this...what happens to you tonight...is only a mere taste...of what I'll be doing to Waylon and Jonny at WAR. And I don't care if my partner is convinced he's a witch, it's fucking New Orleans, that shit is considered normal over there. It's thecity where anything can...and will...happen. I'll see you gentlemen in N'awlins.
[FPV calmy smiles to the camera, before once again closing his eyes, going back into his meditation.]
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[Scene changes to the intersection of North Dorgenois Street and A.P. Tureaud Avenue... and the exterior of Bullet's Sports Bar in the 7th Ward. Sitting on a giant electrical spool (converted into a bench/table), Cornelius Casanova - the Funkiest Brother Alive - and his partner 'The Emerald Prince' Danny Darwin are mid-discussion about the Shoot to Thrill show.]
Cornelius: Man, I know the shit ain't right, but it also ain' nothin' new. Me an' you been excluded or neglected our whole lives one way or another, man. Shit, only reason the Mothership got together in the first place is 'cause Ricky Richards didn't know what else to do but put the two brothers on the same team! Our whole lives we been conquering adversity, brah- we don't know no better but to fight the power.
[Three honeys walk past and into the bar...]
Cornelius: -god DAMN, son! All you, brah- I'm out.
[Cornelius follows them off screen. The door to the bar swings open, letting the sounds of a four-piece brass band leak out into the street. As the door closes, the Prince begins speaking.]
Prince: I take a lot of shit for playing the 'race card', but this time I ain't got much choice... WCF is comin' to town, and they employ legitimate racists. I know you know who I'm talkin' 'bout, too. That bitch-ass mother fucker wearin' the 'Confederate Title'. Motherfucker wants to promote a culture where my people were in chains. That fake-ass belt of yours don't stand for shit but oppression, 'Doc'... you come in MY house with that bullshit? Shit, boy. We gonna send yo' ass to the hospital. Come in my house with that bullshit, you ain't gettin' no asskicking... we'll fuck you up so bad you could call that shit reparations. WCF, you wanna save your boy Doc? Then fire that bitch. Come Sunday, if that bitch still got a job? Then y'all gonna have some problems. And that's the word.
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[Scene: the GEW Arena parking lot. We see the Church of Dark Saints' bus pull up in the lot, taking up three parking spaces. The bus door opens and out come Zombie McMorris, 'Acid' Alice and 'The Crimson Prophet' Andrew Warhawk. WCF faithful know these men (and their lady-friend) to be the Church's tag specialists, the Reign of Terror... but to the GEW fans, they're just ol' Andy Warhawk and his pals.]
Zombie: Fuck yeah! Back home in the 504! Warhawk, you alright here? Cause me and this bitch are gonna go find my old coke guy.
Warhawk: We've got a match in two days, Mr. McMorris. Don't you think we should begin preparations?
Zombie: ...dude, why the fuck do you think I'm going to find Dirty Larry? Come on girl, let's roll. You got cab fare, or are we stealing something?
Alice: Stealing, totally. If we spend money on a cab, that means we have less to get shit once we find it-
Zombie: You're smart for a broad... oh shit, I see a Kia with a window already busted out! New Orleans always hooks you up. See ya later, Andy- say hi to the guys we're gonna kill Sunday if ya see 'em.
[Zombie and Alice head off screen, leaving Warhawk alone. Andy shakes his head and lifts his book.]
Warhawk: I've come a long way for this show, GEW- and I've come a long way since I left you. Our Lord Oblivion himself chose me as his prophet and first apostle... now I have the chance to return along with Its Church, and even better I have an opportunity to take apart 'Steeltoe Joe' in this, my backyard. These so-called Misfits are simply lost sheep, wandering from company to company looking for a home... though they are insipid and weak-minded fools, they are not alone in that. They are, much like the rest of the wrestling world, simply lambs being led to the inevitable slaughter. But this 'Prophecy'... they are the great offenders. Hank Lane, Tek... you two will find yourselves broken into pieces by my allies Mr. McMorris and the Demon King, Famine of the Vile.
[Andy Warhawk lifts his book over his head]
Warhawk: But the Book of Dark Times tells the tale of your fate, Steeltoe Joe... and it does not come at the hands of my allies... it does not even come at the hands of Our Lord Oblivion. Its will be done, your end comes at my hands! And, Its will be done... your end comes soon. Make your time on this Earth while you still have it, 'Steeltoe Joe'. This Sunday night, your 'Holy Flame' will be extinguished... permanently.
[Andy clutches his book to his chest.]
Warhawk: This is the word of Our Lord. So let it be done.
[As he walks away, a graphic pops up at the bottom of our screen...]
[(c) Global Extreme Wrestling 2012.]
Boomer Brown: Hello, WCF fans - this is the Voice of GEW, Boomer Brown, coming to you from the GEW Arena! The same arena where, this very weekend, the stars of WCF will be joining us for the biggest show Global Extreme Wrestling has ever produced, SHOOT TO THRILL 2012! We've got a hell of a show lined up - for starters, we've got two WCF title matches announced! Ophelia Pain, WCF's Vixen of Violence, will go one on one with a man who's no friend of The Misfits, WCF Internet Champion Stuart 'Scoutmaster' Slane! The Internet Title will be on the line... Slane has made no bones of his unwilling attitude toward this contest, but like it or not the title will be at stake! Also, the WCF Television Title will be up for grabs as that despicable but crafty Eric Price takes on 'Rising Star' Kale Windsor and 'Sultan of Smooth' Tommy Kain in a match...nay, a tradition, that GEW helps to keep alive- a THREE-WAY DANCE. You want blood and violence? You want special guests? Well, how about this action: we've got WCF People's Champion FPV teaming up with his old friend Logan, or as... she... is now known, 'Sarah Twilight'... to take on the team of recent WCF acquisition Mariko 'Sado' Shinoda and her boyfriend who hasn't been in the ring in two months, WCF International Champion Kira Sakazaki! Mixed tag action as only GEW would bring you, this Sunday at Shoot to Thrill! We've got a tag match between GEW's British Invasion and WCF's 8th Wonder- should be fantastic, no matter their records- and if that wasn't enough tag action for you, we've got a match we're calling 'NINE MAN PANDEMONIUM'! Prophecy - GEW fans may remember Tek and Steeltoe Joe from their visit to the Arena a few months back... this time they've got Hank 'Thunder' Lane with 'em - will step into the ring with three of the Misfits - L.A. Kief and the Saintz of Sin, Ryan Pugh and native New Orleanian Johnny Stylez - AND the Church of Dark Saints team of native New Orleanian Zombie McMorris, the beastly Famine of the Vile and former GEW superstar Andy... uh, Andrew... Warhawk! And that's not all - we've got a TAIPEI DEATHMATCH between Synn and Joel Hall... and a huge pair of main event matches including Oblivion vs. Corey Black and a CLOCKWORK ORANGE HOUSE OF FUN MATCH between Jay Price and the Polar Phantasm. For those of you expecting a WCF Slam this week, here's your warning: Unsuspecting WCF fans, we'd like to advise you that anything can and will happen at a GEW show, meaning that as always the card is subject to change... and you shouldn't miss a minute of it. Another match that everyone is looking forward to is "Hellbilly" Waylon Cash versus "The Mack" Steve Orbit. Both huge names in the WCF-- this match could have easily been a main event, for sure. Both fan favorites, this will be one of those classic matches that people talk about for years to come--
Voice off-screen: TOOT TOOT! Ho train, comin' through!
[Just then, Steve Orbit walks into the scene, in full pimp gear and walking with a cane, followed by six sexy-ass women of all different colors and nationalities. Orbit is carrying a bottle of Hennessey, and he is definitely feeling "loose".]
Steve Orbit: Wassup, Boomer?! Yo, I love Louisiana! I'm havin' twice as much fun as last time!
Boomer Brown: That's great, Mr. Orbit, I was just talking about your match with Waylon Cash--
Steve Orbit: Yo, forget about that... YO! Check out these bitches!
[The camera pans quickly to show all the girls as they wave and smile.]
Steve Orbit: I'm doin' my thing out here! You see this, Waylon? This is what a single man do. This mother fucker probably sittin' in his hotel room watchin' Sex in the City with his old lady, cuttin' her mother fuckin' toenails and shit!
[Orbit lets out a huge laugh, and the girls laugh along with him.]
Boomer Brown: So, Mr. Orbit, you think I could have a few words with you about the match?
[Orbit takes a big swig out of his liquor bottle.]
Steve Orbit: You crazy? Hell nah! I'm partyin', mother fucker! Peace out, let's go bitches! TOOT TOOT!
[Orbit struts past Boomer Brown, giving his girls a big wave to follow him. Orbit bumps into Boomer as he passes by-- the girls all do the same. Boomer gathers himself afterwards, adjusting his suit and brushing himself off.]
Boomer Brown: Uh, where was I? Oh... yes. Of course.
Boomer Brown: This weekend, we take professional wrestling back where it belongs... we take it to the extreme.
[Scene: a dark alley. We see a man in a green and black martial arts robe/costume get up with a green facemask... he's sitting on an overturned milk crate next to a shopping cart full of trash.]
Reptile: I keep hearing all this shit about deathmatches... and hardcore... and extreme... from these losers coming down here from Pennsylvania. Some of them sound like they might know a thing or two... or they just want us to think they do. Some of them sound like they wouldn't know hardcore if it hit 'em in the face.
[Reptile picks up the GEW Deathmatch Title from his lap, then stands up throwing it over his shoulder as he does]
Reptile: This weekend? Shoot to Thrill? Yeah. Somebody's gonna get some hardcore in the face. Somebody's gonna get themselves a face full of Deathmatch Title. Somebody's gonna feel the Venom Bite.
[He spits.]
Reptile: Don't worry, WCF... you don't have to find me. I'll find you. Trust me... I'll find you.
-------------------------------------------
[Scene changes to the Crown and Anchor Pub, hangout of the British Invasion. The two men stand toward the back of the crowded pub, near the dartboard... Richey Razorblade, a tall Brit with thick black hair and a friendly face, draws up two names on the chalkboard next to the dartboard. Meanwhile Sir Robert Duncan, a portly mustached fellow (not a Brit?) drinks a healthy swig of a bottle of Newcastle.]
SRD: Cor blimey, that's the stuff. What say you, Richey? Nary a drop of the piss for you so far
RR: That's cos I'm planning to win this game, Sir Robert.
[Richey moves and we see 'RR' and 'SRD' written up on the chalkboard. Richey quickly whips the darts at the board, three in quick succession... all three hit the board, two landing roughly a millimeter apart inside the '16' region of the board's surface.]
RR: Not a bad go. Sir Robert?
SRD: Right, right. Jolly good.
[Sir Robert Duncan carefully measures, then whips a dart at the wall. It sticks into a wooden door reading 'LADIES'. The door opens and a horrified looking woman comes out, then briskly moves through the crowd towards the front of the bar.]
SRD: Ah, yes. Well. Try, try again, then.
RR: So what do you make of these 8th Wonder wankers?
SRD: I've been told they've got half a mind.
RR: Yeah, but there's two of 'em. Still might give us a go.
[Sir Robert throws his second dart, which hits the dartboard but bounces off and sticks into a barstool.]
SRD: Blast! What manner of treachery is this?
[He throws the third, which hits the bullseye. Sir Robert laughs, triumphantly throwing his arms up. In the process, he knocks his beer to the floor.]
RR: Just do that two more times and you're onto something, chum!
SRD: I'm winning!
RR: Actually, you're... sure, Sir Robert. You're winning.
[Richey tosses two darts in quick succession, both hitting the bullseye.]
RR: Either way, we've got Sunday locked up tighter than-
SRD: The Tower of London!
RR: -couldn't've said it better m'self, chum.
----------------------------------------
[Scene changes to a suburban home... the front porch, specifically. This is a house we've seen before... it's Antarctica. It's the boyhood home of the Polar Phantasm... a man we see sitting on a porch swing, wearing a 'GEW' t-shirt and a pair of blue sweatpants.]
Phantasm: It's a new day. It's a new day for me, for sure... I'm finally where I'm supposed to be in mind and body, and in life even.
[He lifts both hands, one rubbing the other. His wedding ring is quite visible.]
Phantasm: It's a new day for GEW. The company where I got my start has gone from small-time indie fed to hosting a full-on cross-promotional event with the international wrestling juggernaut who I'm proud to work for today. It'd be one thing if I'd come up and left GEW behind, but it's a whole 'nother animal entirely when the entire promotion I came from followed me up the ladder. It's a new day of unparalleled success.
[The Phantasm nods solemnly.]
Phantasm: It's also a new day for Jay Price. A career of successes and failures, ups and downs, titles won and lost... all of that's behind you, Jay. You might not have gotten married or changed your name, but the song remains the same. You're starting a new chapter, same as I... and both of us want to start with a win. That said, I'm at the top of my game... and you haven't been in the ring since the Team of Treachery took you apart.
[The front door opens off camera... Phantasm looks up with a smile as Nightmare joins him on the swing.]
Nightmare: What'd I miss?
Phantasm: Just got to giving Jay Price a message.
Nightmare: Oh, good. I'm ready. Go ahead.
[He stares at her for a second. She holds up a pitcher and two plastic cups.]
Nightmare: Kool-aid? It's Tropical Punch.
Phantasm: ...well, fuck yes to that. But back to what I was saying- Price, you're not going to get a walk out of me. You'd better be ready for the fight of your life... and you'd better be ready for an awful lot of pain. Sunday night I may be walking into 'your match', but you're coming to my turf.
[Nightmare hands Polar a plastic cup.]
Phantasm: GEW awaits, Price... I'll be ready. I already took the 'kid gloves' off and everything.
Nightmare: Oh, that's terrible.
Phantasm: Really? I thought it was poignant and humorous.
Nightmare: You've done better, baby.
Phantasm: You got anything?
Nightmare: Oh, don't worry. I'll get something together...
-------------------------------------------------
[Backstage, we hear "TOOT TOOT!", and then we see "The Mack" Steve Orbit with his "ho train" following behind as he struts down the hallway towards an exit door. As he gets halfway down the hall, the exit door opens, and in walks Waylon Cash, Steve's opponent for Shoot To Thrill. Steve slows his roll a little bit, as Waylon approaches... they stop in the middle of the hall and face each other. After a brief silence..]
Steve Orbit: Waylon Cash, my man.
Waylon Cash: Well, if it ain't the Mack.
[Another brief silence...]
Steve Orbit: Hey homie, I just wanna say good luck on our match, man. I just want you to know, I ain't got no bad feelings towards you, you feel me. We cool, and I hope we still cool after Shoot To Thrill.
Waylon Cash: Yeah, we're cool. Let's just put on a show for the fans, represent the WCF as two of it's top talents... and may the best man win.
[Orbit puts his fist up and Waylon pounds it.]
Steve Orbit: Cool, man.
Waylon Cash: So, I mean... after I beat you, don't take it personally, alright? It's just a little friendly competition. Let's just keep it professional, man to man.
Steve Orbit: Oh... after you beat me? [laughs] You hear that ladies?
[The girls start to laugh.]
Waylon Cash: Yeah, after I beat you.
Steve Orbit: Let me tell you like this, Waylon. I ain't walkin' out the GEW Arena as a loser, no. I'm walkin' out as a winner, and it's unfortunate for you, because, you know, I think you alright. But I got this one in the bag, Waylon, you just gon' have to accept that.
Waylon Cash: GEW loves me. I know you've been down here too, but they know me. The fans are gonna get behind me, and I'm gonna beat you, Steve. Hands down.
[Orbit's heard enough, and starts to walk away.]
Steve Orbit: Yeah, whatever man. Talk that talk, I'ma go finish havin' my nice party with these bitches. You need a bitch? As you can see, I got plenty to go around.
Waylon Cash: I'm engaged-- you know what, that's not the point. You know what your problem is, Orbit? You don't have any respect for anyone. You don't even respect yourself.
[Orbit turns around and gets in Waylon's face. Waylon runs his hand through his hair, locking eyes with Orbit.]
Steve Orbit: That right?
Waylon Cash: Yeah, I've heard you complain about how people stereotype you, and don't respect you... listen man, respect is earned. To get respect, you have to give respect. I'm not trying to start anything with you, I'm just telling it like it is.
Steve Orbit: So what the fuck you call this? I came out here and said good luck, like a mother fuckin' gentleman. If that ain't respect, what you call that?
Waylon Cash: That's not what I'm talking about. Take last week for example, when you grabbed Ophelia Pain's ass right in front of her boyfriend. That was so disrespectful, man, and you wonder why people look at you the way they do?
Steve Orbit: That fuckin' skank? You think I wanted any part of that bitch? What you saw, was called strategy. I knew their weakness and I exposed it. End of story. I'm sorry if your country fried ass brain can't comprehend complex plans like mine can.
[Orbit's girls look at each other like "uh-oh, shit's about to go down". Cash and Orbit stare each other down.]
Waylon Cash: You know what, Steve, I'll see you Sunday night. I'll beat some respect into you.
Steve Orbit: ... Or maybe I'll beat some respect OUT of you.
[Scene fades with Orbit and Waylon face-to-face.]
---------------------------------------------------------------------
[Scene changes to the nighttime sights of Bourbon Street. Throngs of people push past the group mid-scene, a group notorious among the ranks of Global Extreme Wrestling... a despicable group of spoiled brats known as Urban Decay. The three largest men in the group - Freak, Fatboy and 420 - all hang toward the back, looking around as if uninterested in their promo segment. The smallest of the group - Hooligan - is wearing a neck brace and a t-shirt reading 'Fuck Waylon Cash'. The group's leader - GEW's World Heavyweight Champion, D-K - leads the party wearing a 'Melvins' t-shirt and a large golden belt.]
D-K: And they call us spoiled- these Pennsylvania bitches are barely even wrestlers! They've all got million dollar contracts and endorsement deals up there... down here, it's not about being rich or famous. Unless you're us, anyway- well, me. No, down here it's about violence. I've seen your little TV show, WCF... you don't impress us one bit.
Hooligan: Fuck those bunch of fuckin' fucks.
420: Fuckin' fucks!
D-K: Shut up, you morons. See, I'm a real wrestler... not some TV reality star like these WCF chumps.
[Freak and Fatboy split off from the group, heading towards a guy holding a huge sign reading 'BIG ASS BEERS'.]
D-K: I've defended this title in Japan, I've defended this title in Canada... I've defended this title in Mexico. Hell, I've even defended this title in Texas and that fuckin' place isn't anywhere close to being America.
[420 and Hooligan both split off, heading into a place called 'HUSTLER'S BARELY LEGAL'.]
D-K: I'm a REAL World Champion, something none of these WCF chumps could ever claim. Even the 'great' Jonny Fly is no match for-
[D-K cuts himself off, looking to his iPhone]
D-K: Oh shit, my dad's letting us use the house in the Hamptons this weekend guys! What do you say- beat up on some fake-ass TV wrestlers or go to the 'good beach'?
[He turns to see he is alone.]
D-K: Fuck 'em.
[He turns back to the camera.]
D-K: And FUCK YOUR SHOW. I'm gonna go try and fuck Chelsea Clinton.
-------------------------------------------
[Our scene begins with Markus Jayson and Kelvin Staylor next to a computer. Of course, Markus Jayson and Kelvin Staylor don’t know how to use a computer because they’re idiots. Jayson can be seen tapping on the monitor while Staylor is underneath the desk playing with a few cords. After a few seconds the screen on the computer finally turns on.]
Jayson: Got it! It just needed a little tap-tap.
Staylor emerges from underneath the desk and takes a seat in front of the computer next to his half-brother.
Staylor: Okay, so what now?
Jayson: Well that Boomer dude from GEW told us that we need to answer our fan mail this week. He said he had it set up for us on this computer. The question is; where do I find this ‘email?’
Staylor: Oh. Why don’t we just Ask Jeeves?
Jayson: Who is Jeeves?
Staylor: I usually find him on the…internet. He is very smart.
Jayson: *gulp* I’m scared, Stay. Don’t make me go to the place that always tries to make my wiener bigger.
Staylor: No dude, those messages go away if you give them your credit card number. No big deal!
Jayson: Well, okay, here goes nothing…
[Jayson clicks on the Internet Explorer browser icon and enters the internet world. A Yahoo homepage emerges on the screen.]
Jayson: Okay, how do I find Jeeves on here?
Staylor: Hmm. Good question. He usually just pops up for me.
Jayson: Oh, hey, look at that! Naked German Monk is trending!
Staylor: Click it!
[Markus Jayson clicks the link and is taken to a web search with results about some dude walking naked in a forest.]
Jayson: Whoa! Apparently this dude ate some berries and starting tripping balls. He got naked and was found wandering the wilderness in Germany.
Staylor: Click pictures!
[Jayson adheres to the request and clicks the link for pictures of naked german monk. The first thing that pops onto his screen is a ‘Safe Search’ notification, suggesting inappropriate content ahead. Unfortunately, Jayson can hardly read to begin with so he presses the correct buttons to bypass the content warning and comes to the pictures. The first picture is of some berries. The rest are basically naked people.]
Jayson: AH!!
Staylor: NAKED PEOPLE EVERYWHERE! TURN IT OFF!
Jayson: THAT GIRL IS EATING A HOT DOG BUN WITH A WEINER IN IT!
Staylor: THAT NAKED DUDE IS ON THE OTHER DUDE!
[Jayson frantically fumbles around with this mouse, managing to click out of the screen and the internet entirely. Staylor just stare at the monitor, unsure of how to proceed.]
Staylor: I feel like I just got raped.
Jayson: Just wait until Scoutmaster learns we just looked at naked people on the Internet. He’s going to destroy us!
Staylor: Okay, okay, let’s regroup. What do we do now?
Jayson: Quit?
Staylor: Yeah! Let's go eat some Crayfish and play the saxaphone!
-------------------------------------------
[Scene changes to a hallway, backstage at the GEW Arena. A well-coifed handsome gentleman and a spiky-haired punk kid are walking down the hallway as if they owned the place. These are the 'Egomaniacs', the team of Brandon 'Your Role Model' Richards and Michael 'Your F'n Hero' Dugas.]
Richards: For those of you who don't know yet, this is Global Extreme Wrestling... and GEW belongs to the Egomaniacs.
Dugas: The fans know us, they love us... they look up to us. We're the greatest of all time.
Richards: Bar none! Everywhere we go backstage, people love us!
Dugas: That guy's our biggest fan. He loves us so much he can't even speak to us without shitting his pants.
[They throw open a door...]
Richards: Hey, locker room- it's your role model!
Dugas: And your hero-
[They are greeted by a growly woman's scream. A sharpened spike hits the wall behind them.]
Dugas: -oh, fuck that!
[The Egomaniacs run off screen. Nightmare comes out, face half-painted with her old flame face-paint.]
Nightmare: These are no longer the flames of my past... they are the flames of my present. They are the flames of a phoenix risen. They were war paint... but now I burn for something else. Payback.
[She smiles an evil smile.]
Nightmare: Corey Black will give Oblivion at least as much pain as I could, I'm sure of that... which means this Sunday, Nathan von Liebert, these flames burn for you.
---------------------------------------------
[The screen cuts to FPV, sitting on the bar at the old ToT Nightclub. He has apparently been meditating up there for quite some time, only now opening his eyes to gaze into the camera.]
FPV: Man, this place...I love this place. Brings back memories of when me and Logan would run rampant on the trashcans of the WCF. And now, even if he isn't Logan by name, we'll do it again to the GEW. Kira, Sado, I have much respect to the both of you, as fucked up as Kira has been the past couple of week. But you two, just know this...what happens to you tonight...is only a mere taste...of what I'll be doing to Waylon and Jonny at WAR. And I don't care if my partner is convinced he's a witch, it's fucking New Orleans, that shit is considered normal over there. It's thecity where anything can...and will...happen. I'll see you gentlemen in N'awlins.
[FPV calmy smiles to the camera, before once again closing his eyes, going back into his meditation.]
---------------------------------------------
[Scene changes to the intersection of North Dorgenois Street and A.P. Tureaud Avenue... and the exterior of Bullet's Sports Bar in the 7th Ward. Sitting on a giant electrical spool (converted into a bench/table), Cornelius Casanova - the Funkiest Brother Alive - and his partner 'The Emerald Prince' Danny Darwin are mid-discussion about the Shoot to Thrill show.]
Cornelius: Man, I know the shit ain't right, but it also ain' nothin' new. Me an' you been excluded or neglected our whole lives one way or another, man. Shit, only reason the Mothership got together in the first place is 'cause Ricky Richards didn't know what else to do but put the two brothers on the same team! Our whole lives we been conquering adversity, brah- we don't know no better but to fight the power.
[Three honeys walk past and into the bar...]
Cornelius: -god DAMN, son! All you, brah- I'm out.
[Cornelius follows them off screen. The door to the bar swings open, letting the sounds of a four-piece brass band leak out into the street. As the door closes, the Prince begins speaking.]
Prince: I take a lot of shit for playing the 'race card', but this time I ain't got much choice... WCF is comin' to town, and they employ legitimate racists. I know you know who I'm talkin' 'bout, too. That bitch-ass mother fucker wearin' the 'Confederate Title'. Motherfucker wants to promote a culture where my people were in chains. That fake-ass belt of yours don't stand for shit but oppression, 'Doc'... you come in MY house with that bullshit? Shit, boy. We gonna send yo' ass to the hospital. Come in my house with that bullshit, you ain't gettin' no asskicking... we'll fuck you up so bad you could call that shit reparations. WCF, you wanna save your boy Doc? Then fire that bitch. Come Sunday, if that bitch still got a job? Then y'all gonna have some problems. And that's the word.
--------------------------------------------------
[Scene: the GEW Arena parking lot. We see the Church of Dark Saints' bus pull up in the lot, taking up three parking spaces. The bus door opens and out come Zombie McMorris, 'Acid' Alice and 'The Crimson Prophet' Andrew Warhawk. WCF faithful know these men (and their lady-friend) to be the Church's tag specialists, the Reign of Terror... but to the GEW fans, they're just ol' Andy Warhawk and his pals.]
Zombie: Fuck yeah! Back home in the 504! Warhawk, you alright here? Cause me and this bitch are gonna go find my old coke guy.
Warhawk: We've got a match in two days, Mr. McMorris. Don't you think we should begin preparations?
Zombie: ...dude, why the fuck do you think I'm going to find Dirty Larry? Come on girl, let's roll. You got cab fare, or are we stealing something?
Alice: Stealing, totally. If we spend money on a cab, that means we have less to get shit once we find it-
Zombie: You're smart for a broad... oh shit, I see a Kia with a window already busted out! New Orleans always hooks you up. See ya later, Andy- say hi to the guys we're gonna kill Sunday if ya see 'em.
[Zombie and Alice head off screen, leaving Warhawk alone. Andy shakes his head and lifts his book.]
Warhawk: I've come a long way for this show, GEW- and I've come a long way since I left you. Our Lord Oblivion himself chose me as his prophet and first apostle... now I have the chance to return along with Its Church, and even better I have an opportunity to take apart 'Steeltoe Joe' in this, my backyard. These so-called Misfits are simply lost sheep, wandering from company to company looking for a home... though they are insipid and weak-minded fools, they are not alone in that. They are, much like the rest of the wrestling world, simply lambs being led to the inevitable slaughter. But this 'Prophecy'... they are the great offenders. Hank Lane, Tek... you two will find yourselves broken into pieces by my allies Mr. McMorris and the Demon King, Famine of the Vile.
[Andy Warhawk lifts his book over his head]
Warhawk: But the Book of Dark Times tells the tale of your fate, Steeltoe Joe... and it does not come at the hands of my allies... it does not even come at the hands of Our Lord Oblivion. Its will be done, your end comes at my hands! And, Its will be done... your end comes soon. Make your time on this Earth while you still have it, 'Steeltoe Joe'. This Sunday night, your 'Holy Flame' will be extinguished... permanently.
[Andy clutches his book to his chest.]
Warhawk: This is the word of Our Lord. So let it be done.
[As he walks away, a graphic pops up at the bottom of our screen...]
[(c) Global Extreme Wrestling 2012.]
