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Post by Joey Flash on Apr 22, 2015 8:00:48 GMT -5
In this thread we post this shit, if anyone still has it available and wants to share, if not just hit us with your first WCF RP bitches. It'll be interesting to see the writing style changes, if it's the same character how that has changed, all that good shit. This was about eleven years ago. Myself and Occulo had joined our first ever eFed...here was my debut effort!
We open up the scene facing the back of SWA reporter Doug Ferris, he turns quickly and raises his microphone.
Doug: Hello fans and welcome, today we have an exclusive for you, an interview with latest SWA prospect Joey Flash who this upcoming week on unplugged is set to make his debut against 'Big Daddy' Jason Berodt. Now...let's try finding him.
Doug turns away from the camera once more and motions for the camera to follow him through the corridor, Doug checks through every open door to see whether the target is inside. Rounding the second right turn they come upon the lounge backstage, furnished with 3 long leather couches and a fairly new 36" television. On the couch closest to the door, a man is stretched out with a book, Pride and Prejudice in his hands.
Doug: Ah, Joey....
Flash raises a hand at Doug to halt him mid sentence. After about a minute of silence, Flash lowers his book (checking the page he finished at) and places it on the couch next to him
Flash: Hello Doug.
Doug: Hello Joey, can you spare some time to answer a few questions?
Flash: For you, anything. (Flash winks at Doug)
Doug (blushing, he coughs): First off, what are your impressions of SWA, and how do you feel you are settling in so far?
Flash: You know, first impressions are always the most important, and both you and the SWA as a whole has failed to impress. The facilities of the SWA would be fine, if you were a poor, unintelligent, ignorant, untalented cretin, like yourself. But for somebody with more....refined tastes almost everything in this company reeks of classlessness. From the lack of adequate gym facilities, to poor management all the way through to, no offence, but near incomprehensible reporters. I am not one to moan however, so, as my mother told me 'If you have nothing good to say, say nothing at all'. As far as settling in goes, it couldn't be going better and I’m feeling pretty good at the moment.
Doug: Uhm, so. For those unfamiliar with you, can you give a brief background of yourself?
Flash: No.
Doug: But...
Flash (interrupting): Next question, do your job.
Doug (concealing his irritation): OK...Well, your first match has been set for this Wednesday's Unplugged, where you will face powerhouse Jason Berodt, also making his debut.
Flash: You know, i enjoyed an extremely delectable meal last night. Steak, before you ask. Expensive, but money well spent I have to say, succulent to the T.
Doug: But what about....
Flash: I decided to go wild and treat myself to a gateaux for dessert, have to spoil yourself now an again, don't you Doug?
Doug: Please...
Flash: Sorry, it's just i am so unconcerned about the threat 'Big Daddy' possesses i didn't feel the need to dignify you with a response. I couldn't care less whether he is a powerhouse or a shithouse for that matter, all that matters is that i am going to appear in the SWA ring on Wednesday night. Jason Berodt, is nothing more than a dummy, a mannequin to showcase my skill. I am not going to spend time hyping my skill, or downplaying his because i quite frankly see no point in it. By Wednesday, everything will be said with my performance, don't be expecting much of a show however as i foresee it being more one sided than a disabled two year old, squaring off with a pack of rabid wolves.
To set your mind at rest Jason, i am not going in there to hurt you, your pride or your chances of succeeding in the business, slim as they are. You are simply a stepping stone, an old beaten and cracked stepping stone at that. One which will be passed, without so much as a sweat. Good enough, Doug?
Doug: I guess so…Now how do you see your future in the SWA, where do you think you will be in 6 months?
Flash (yawning): Well, no disrespect but I can’t expect anything less than to be on top in this federation, 6 months is a bit of an overstatement to how long it will take. As I said before, there is no need for me to brag how good I am, or demean fellow wrestlers by saying how bad, in comparison they are, so don’t continue to push for questions you already know the answers to, OK?
Doug: Sure Joey.
Just as Doug utters these words, we hear a buzzing from Joey’s crotch. It is Flash’s cell phone. He comes to attention quickly, the growing boredom on his face lifted pulling the phone from his pants he answers the phone. Listening to the person on the other line, Flash finally speaks.
Flash: Yes?
Flash closes the cell and replaces it into his left pocket
Flash: Sorry, gonna have to cut this short.
Doug: What…
Flash: Later
Flash stands up, putting his jacket on and hurriedly leaves the room, forgetting his book. We hear Doug Ferris sigh as we focus on the book and…
FTB
He was pretty much no fuckin different.
JOEY FUCCIN BODIED JASON BIG DADDY BERODT!!!!!!!
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Post by Joey Flash on Apr 22, 2015 8:05:43 GMT -5
Bonus RP, featuring a doctor who had been supplying Joey with PED's in a storyline about two months later. Yes I have just found a flash drive with this shit on it.
Ironfist took a long look around the room, imbeciles were all around him, he ought to kill them right here he thought to himself. This place was a dump, he thought as much when he found out that the owner was that pathetic waste of oxygen Joey Flash. That stupid grease ball had invited him here for an evening of entertainment and fun. A way of paying him back for the favours he had asked. Ironfist thought a better way would be to end his own life, but alas that was not to be. Perhaps I shall end it for him myself, he thought. La Societa? More like La Shit! He was bored out of his skull seeing these lesser mortals make fools of their fat, obnoxious selves on the dance floor. Spazzing around under the twirling lights like an epileptic. Pathetic, I could crush you all in an instant, and am having to restrain myself from doing so.
Just then, the man at the upper echelons of these morons Joey Flash appeared and approached Ironfist.
Flash: Enjoyin’ yourself doc?
Ironfist: I was until I saw you.
Flash: Why the hate doctor man?
Ironfist: Why the ugly face in my vision?
Flash looks fairly annoyed at this.
Flash: You know, you could show a little more respect, you are here on my volition. I just want to repay you for your help.
Ironfist: You could do that with money, or better, DEATH!!!!
Flash looks at him perplexed.
Flash: Are you tapped in the head or something?
Ironfist: No, you will be though. With a hammer!!!!
Flash: Uhm???
Ironfist: Listen, idiot. I want my money, not paid in drinks. Unless it is of your blood!!!!
Flash: OK Dracula. Listen you are really starting to bug me now, I have been patient (GET IT?!?!?) with you for quite some time. Your frequent references to my demise are beginning to rub me.
Ironfist: It is a shame it is not rubbing you with a cheese grater!!!!
Flash: That’s it, get the hell out. If I have to tell you again, you will be in very, very big trouble.
Ironfist: Fine, this place is a cesspit anyway!!! It will also be a grave soon. YOURS!!!!!
Ironfist, incensed at Flash’s lack of honour, and his overtly stupid attitude lobbed his full glass of beer at the smarmy face of the idiot. Flash moved out of the way and stared at Ironfist as the glass fell over the railings onto the floor below. Ironfist stared back at him and shouted.
Ironfist: You haven’t heard the last of me, idiot! I will make it my life’s ambition to end yours!!!!
Joey continued to stare at him in a somewhat bemused manner.
Flash: Huh?
Ironfist picked up his coat and walked away from Flash towards the staircase.
Ironfist: He will be the first of many to feel the wrath of Doctor….
Just then, his feet gave way and his knees buckled as he slipped on some spilled drink that was on the floor. Ironfist began to tumble down the staircase, head over heels cracking his skull on almost each of the steps, his drunken state not allowing for equilibrium. He landed at the bottom of the stairs with a plop, like a sack of crap. He was still in a conscious state however, owing to his physiology and his conditioning. He went to rub his eyes, to clear the cobwebs from his head.
Unbeknownst to him, his hands were covered with glass from the pint he had ejected over the railings. He smeared the shattered, hard glass into his eyes and began screaming with agony, stumbling around as the blood from his eyes drips onto his chest. It turned out to be a fairly unlucky night for Vitali Schneider really. In his excruciating pain, he failed to notice the window behind him, which was unfortunately for him, single glazed. Ironfist stumbled backwards and crashed through the window, with many people looking on. He screamed as his writhing body plummeted to the hard concrete floor three floors below.
His body hit the concrete floor with a crack and a splat. The sounds of his bones breaking and piercing his internal organs. He began to cough up blood as he felt the life drifting out of him, life flashing before his eyes.
With this, he died. His mangled and bloody corpse a testament to his life. Joey Flash was still staring at the lifeless corpse Dr. Ironfist during this, he turned round and shouted to a patron.
Flash: Somebody call a doctor!
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Post by Deleted on Apr 22, 2015 8:17:07 GMT -5
The lack of animal pictures and/or ducks in those rps is disturbing  |
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Post by Kaz on Apr 22, 2015 10:49:52 GMT -5
I started doing promos here in the WCF and what I'm about to post isn't technically my first promo, but it was my first promo where I was actually making an effort to win. My first match truly humbled me here cuz I thought I was gonna be the shit but I got fuckin wrecked by Mary Mac.
Thia is the promo that helped Colin Marshall merc Terry Roberts (that wyckyd crossdressing vampire or whatever) This is back when I felt the need to label everything on/off camera.
Here it is in all it's Infinite P.O.O.N Smashed Glory.
You see the rabbit don’t you?
[Segment 1 - 5:30 A.M. - Off Camera]
I thrashed in my bed, becoming tangled in my blanket as my pillow hit the floor. I looked around, dazed, barely able to remember the reason I sprung so suddenly. My head pounded and I couldn‘t think. I squinted in the dark before reaching my phone on the dresser next to my bed. The digital blast of light shined directly in my eyes, temporarily blinding me as I tried my best to read the clock. 5:30 A.M. I sighed as I put my phone down.
A nightmare maybe? Everything about it seemed so real, but now I can‘t remember a damn bit of it. It was like a piece of some terrible puzzle, one I could only find in the dark, but one I never wanted to find. The thought of it sent cold shivers down my spine. I compressed the vague memory to the back of my brain and shut my eyes.
You’ll never forget about the rabbit, Colin.
[Segment 2 - On Top of the World - Off Camera]
I didn’t know opening a mailbox could change a life. There was the usual bills that were going to be late, a few coupons, and a manila envelope that contained dreams. Like a lion salivating as his hunt, I ripped open the top of the envelope, barely able to contain my excitement. Inside the envelope was a neatly printed stack of papers. My WCF contract. I found the closest pen and signed every dotted line I could find and initialed every empty space.
The ink was still wet when I put the contract in to a new envelope.
On the drive to the post office, my eyes began to well with tears. Tears; both overjoyed and heartrending. Everything that’s happened in my life has lead to this moment. Every pain and hardship I've endured has guided me to becoming the strongest version of myself…but my road has only just begun.
Several days later…
The conference call meeting with Seth Lerch, the proprietor of WCF, went extremely well. He let me know about the bye week after their last Pay-Per-View Explosion and that getting my name out there was my own responsibility. After a few hours of brainstorming, I decided the fastest way to do this was to cash in on their twitter trend. After a few days and a thousand tweets, I had managed to garner a few enemies…and a decent buzz on twitter. Everyone may hate Colin Marshall already, but they were at least excited to see what he could do. My phone vibrated to life on the table and my friend Patrick McCoy’s goofy face appeared on the screen accompanied by some ring tone that he had chosen. I answered the call.
Colin Marshall: “Hello?”
Patrick McCoy: “Hello?! Don’t you take that ungrateful tone with me. I’ve clothed you and fed you your entire life. I brought you in to this world and I can take you out.”
Colin Marshall: “Hi Patrick…”
Patrick McCoy: “Oh scissors. You always know when it’s me, don’t you?”
Patrick had been my kindred spirit since we were teenagers.. Both of us had been athletes in school, but couldn't really focus on the sports we played. I had talked myself in to signing up for football and he electively started playing baseball. About a year in to each of our sports, we realized that we had no passion or desire for them and decided to join the wrestling team. We met when we both had to try out against each other. Long, long story short; I got disqualified for locking him in a sharpshooter. Afterwards, he had asked me, seriously, who my favorite wrestler was, and when I replied Shawn Michaels, we were automatic friends. He got kicked off the team later for applying the figure four on his opponents legs during one of his matches and almost got expelled from school.
Patrick McCoy: “So what’s it like being a professional wrestler? How does it feel?”
Colin Marshall: “All I know is I can‘t wait to get in the ring and show them what the real deal is.”
Patrick McCoy: “Hold up man, you've made a couple of these guys really fucking pissed already. What about your first match against this guy Terry Roberts?”
Colin Marshall: “Terry Roberts? He’s been Television Champion and one half of the Tag Team Champions. He’s been named wrestler of the week twice and been part of seven matches of the week. That’s pretty impressive.”
Patrick McCoy: “Yeah it is man. What would you say to him if he was here?”
Colin Marshall: “What would I say? I’d say Terry Roberts, you better prepare. You better do everything you can to protect yourself against Colin Marshall. I may not have as many years as you, but my drive to succeed, to win, is all that keeps me going. I've been through countless struggles to get here, and I’m not going to let some old dog ruin my day with his dreams of reliving glory. All of your achievements, from winning the T.V.. Championship to being wrestler of the week, have one sole purpose and that’s to further my career. Everything you have accomplished will just be a notch in my belt. I have the element of surprise this weekend . Nobody knows Colin Marshall. They don’t know what to expect from me because I painted a false picture. They think I’m a spoiled little brat who’s parents gave me everything I ever wanted. They don’t know how violent I can be in that ring. They don’t know me.”
Patrick McCoy: “Well, they’re going to learn I guess.”
Colin Marshall: “When are you going to get signed Patrick? I’m ready to team with you and be the greatest, longest reigning Tag Team Champions.”
Patrick McCoy: “Man, you know I just started. But wait a little bit, and you’ll be defending that WCF Heavyweight Championship against me.”
Colin Marshall: “I can’t wait man…”
When was the last time you saw the rabbit?
Colin Marshall: “Uh, hey man, I gotta go. I’ll call you later alright.
Patrick McCoy: “Yeah man talk to you later.”
I hung up the phone and went to lay down.
[Segment 3 - Anchorage - Off Camera]
I breathe in the Alaska air as I step out of the Ted Stevens Anchorage International Airport. My red eye flight had arrived at a crisp five a.m. and I was ready to get my day started. There was only a few more days until my debut match and the butterflies in my stomach were starting to get a little intense. The only thing I could do to keep my mind off of them was to keep extremely busy. Before I left the airport, I had called a local cab company, and I had to hand it to them; They were prompt.
A middle aged man stood outside of the bright yellow taxi.
Cab Driver: “You Colin? I’m waiting for a Colin Marshall."
I nodded in concurrence and crawled in to the back seat of the cab. I told him my destination as he sat down in the driver’s side seat.
Colin Marshall: “I’m headed to the Sullivan Arena on Gamble Street.”
Cab Driver: “The Sullivan Arena? It’s five in the morning. Nothing’s going on there, I guarantee that.”
Colin Marshall: “Yeah, I know. This is a big weekend for me and I really want to check it out.”
Cab Driver: “You in town for the Chili Peppers or something? Or that god damn freak wrestling show?”
Look at the rabbit, Colin.
Colin Marshall: “The god damn freak show.”
Cab Driver: “Yugh! Wrestling today! All blood, carnage, and sex. No respect for the times with the good old fashioned figure four leg locks and suplexes. I wouldn't take my kid anywhere near that garbage.”
The rest of the trip went by in silence. I spent a lot of time thinking about my upcoming match against Terry Roberts. I have a lot of respect for him based only on the fact that he was the only established main eventer to not automatically deny my challenge. Everyone’s afraid to put their pride on the line when it comes to the new guy. They cry “you haven’t earned it” or “y”. They are all afraid to step in to the ring with Colin Marshall. The “Fodder” they called me. The “Jobber”.
The cab driver took a turn off of a road called Walter J. Hickel Parkway on to W 15th Ave. 15th was only a short road to Gambell Street. The cab driver pulled over to the side of the road.
Cab Driver: “Here we are. Sullivan Arena.”
And we were. There was a small digital sign that said Sullivan Arena as bright as day. Underneath that was a “Go Seawolves” sign and an Alaska Ace’s sign above that. The scrolling text on the digital sign read “This weekend, we welcome. Saturday 4/12/14 Red Hot Chili Pepper’s! Sunday 4/13/14 World Championship Federation Wrestling Presents Sunday Night Slam!”
I paid the cab fare and stepped out of the taxi. The grass crunched underneath my feet as the morning dew froze it in place. I walked closer to the arena and stood in awe of it. This is my first step. So close, yet so far. Soon.
Colin Marshall: (Voiceover) Terry Roberts, I’m sorry that you have to be the one. The one that has to set the table only to eat defeat. I know that this victory must mean the world to you…but it means that much more to me, Terry. You’re achievements span over years of wrestling but I also know you have a pattern of failure. Colin Marshall will have to be just another road block for you. That’s how the story will always go for Terry Roberts. Almost making it there, just to be stopped in your tracks. The day will finally come when everyone who said it couldn’t happen…no, wouldn’t happen…will finally see that Colin Marshall has what it takes to succeed . They’ll see Colin Marshall step in to XIII and give Corey Black a taste of his own medicine. They’ll see Colin Marshall topple Pantheon and laugh as their alliance crumbles. They’ll see Colin Marshall win the WCF Heavyweight Championship. They’ll see.
They’ll see the rabbit too, Colin?
[Segment 4 - Gorilla Position - Off Camera]
It’s finally time. I stared at the curtain separating me from the humming WCF crowd. My knees trembled and goose bumps tickled my skin. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth like taffy.
Staff: “You’re on in 5...”
My stomach clenched.
"4...”
My shoulders relaxed.
"3...”
The rabbit.
“2...”
I looked forward.
“1...”
My chest roared.
I stepped through the curtain as the opening riff to “End of Heartache” by Killswitch Engage roared throughout the arena.
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Post by Alex Richards on Apr 22, 2015 11:06:03 GMT -5
I don't have any of my first roleplays but I do have some from my award winning worst wrestler of the year!
( La Santa Muerte appears in a gabage dump rooting through the trash. )
LSM: Need more weapons. Need get back at Osbourne. He make monkey of me for last time. I will crush him! Crush him! I will crush him.. with this!!!
( La Santa Muerte holds up a massive rusty bumper from a car. )
LSM: I will crush him with anything! He will pay oh yes he will pay! He will pay with his life! ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Cameraman: You know some people would consider all those ha's filler.
LSM: I consider you filler.. grave filler! ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Cameraman: Alright, alright I get the picture. But youre not facing Osbourne. You're going up against Kevin Chance this week.
LSM: Kevin Chanbce, he's the man who punked out against Scott Mahon! No punk is gonna beat me! ha ha ha ha ha ha! ha ha ha ha ha!
Cameraman: Why?
LSM: Cause he sucks. ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Kevin Chance I will eat your soul! I will wodw your children! All of your dreams belong to me and I will crush them! ha ha ha ha ha!
Cameraman: Um.. right. You have to admit Kevin Chance's victory last week was impressive.
LSM: I admit.. nothing! ha ha ha ha! Kevin Cahcne beat some pop head.
Cameraman: Don't you mean pot head?
LSM: I don't care what he is! I would have crushed him too! ha ha ha! I'm no Brick Goodmaster! I fight back! And I will.. crush him! Crush him! Then I get the Hybird Rules championship. And I crush titlle! Because that.. that.. is how I roll! ha ha ha ha!
( the scene just ends because Muerte is too awful to finish it. )
and here's another one...
Nick Snider enters the dump where he spots La Santa Muerte lounging on an old sofa.
Snider: Dude, you still here? You staying here or something?
LSM: Shut up! I will crush you! Of course I'm staying here hotels are for fools! ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Snider: Don't start that again.
LSM: Shut up Nick or I will give you what I'm gonna give Kevin Chance.
Snider: Speaking of which did you see his latest interview?
LSM: No, I'm staying in a dump. No tv here dum dum. I'm gonna guess he said something lame. So I will laugh at him. ha ha ha ha! I'm gonna guess he tried to insult me. So I'm gonna have to cursh him for that. Othewr than that your guess is as good as mine. But I know this, if he thinks I'm anything like Brick, he's wrong! Dead wrong. As in I'm gonna kill him dead wrong! ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Snider: Kevin Chance made more sense than you.
LSM: I don't have to make sense! I'm Santa Muerte. I'm the executioner. And I'm gonna execute Kevin Chance! He said he has no wife and family, that's a shame.. now he never will! ha ha ha ha
Snider: I thought you said you didn't watch his interview.
LSM: Don't make me look dumb! I know what I said! And every word I ever say is true. Which is why I say Kevin Chance is toast! His winning streak, his dreams of a title shot.. up in smoke! Because I will crush them!
Snider: Get some new lines.
LSM: What, new lines. I don't need them. I simply destroy people. I will destroy Kevin Chance. I will destroy you if you don't leave. I destroy english language. Everything gets destryoed. And I love it! ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Nick walks off with Muerte still laughing.
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Post by Grime on Apr 22, 2015 11:42:52 GMT -5
I can't find mine but it was like 20 lines max I remember that
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Post by Howard Black on Apr 22, 2015 11:45:32 GMT -5
The first E-Fed I was involved with doesn't exist anymore, but I assure you my first RP was not good. At all.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 22, 2015 11:47:13 GMT -5
I'd laugh if Grime posted his first ever rp and it was a Dark Prince rp and he's just all like "Oh shit, I blew my cover" just for the lols  why didn't you do that Grime! It would have been funny! Honestly people nowadays lol |
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Post by Jay Omega on Apr 22, 2015 12:10:49 GMT -5
This is my first WCF RP, written less than a year ago. Note the difference between then and now. And if you want an even bigger contrast, this here is the oldest RP I have access to, because I didn't start saving my stuff until a few years back.
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Post by Logan on Apr 22, 2015 12:28:46 GMT -5
Not my first but the oldest I could find in WCF. Not the first but the oldest I could find. Used to do a lot of 'in-ring' promos, this being one of them. STILL THE CHAMP! 1/12/02 [/color] [The crowd is silent in a WCF arena. All of sudden, “The Struggle Within” by Metallica plays throughout the arena. The music plays about a minute but no one comes out, the music cuts and a new music starts up. It sounds if it’s live.] Music: THE CHAMP IS HERE!
Music: The champ is here!
[Another drum roll hits, out walks Five fake Logans on the right side all carrying drums, on the left side is five fake Logans with microphones and there is a big space between them. All of sudden, out from the back comes a Team of Treachery golf cart. Logan is in the back with the WCF title over his shoulder, he is sitting next to Cyrus who has the Hardcore title over his shoulder. Rage is in the passenger’s side and Seth Lerch is driving. They drive slow down the ramp as the fake Logan’s walk slow down the ramp.]
Music: The champ is here!
[Another drum roll hits.]
Music: The champs are here!
[Logan and Cyrus get out of the Team of Treachery golf cart and stand on the roof holding their titles in the air as the music keeps playing. The golf cart goes slow down the ramp as the crowd is booing their asses off. Logan falls through the roof of the golf cart and lands on top of Seth Lerch, Seth loses control of Golf Cart and he drives right off the ramp and by mistake hits a fake Logan, the golf cart crashes and falls over on its side. The fake Logan that got hit lays on the ramp with his hand inside the drum, all the other fake Logans get off the ramp all looking at the golf cart, Rage seems to be hurt, but Seth Lerch, Logan and Cyrus are fine. The camera men race over to the golf cart as we see Logan, Cyrus and Seth get up.]
Logan: Damnit! I’m the WCF champion! I deserved to be carried to the ring!
Seth Lerch: Alright! Whatever…
[Seth Lerch picks up Logan, he walks a few feet and falls. Logan falls down holding his arm and screaming.]
Logan: EMTS!
[Cyrus runs up to the accident.]
Cyrus: What the hell did you do?
Seth Lerch: I don’t know! He’s fine! He just fell!
Cyrus: He just came out of a cage match!
[Logan acts like he’s crying.]
Logan: He…he…he…he…hurt my arm!
Cyrus: I can’t believe you Seth!
[Seth Lerch shakes his head.]
Cyrus: This could be the end of Logan’s career.
Seth Lerch: Damnit! I think I’m going to go backstage and shoot my brains out!
[Logan stands up appearing to be fine. Logan and Cyrus begin laughing, Seth Lerch stares at them.]
Seth Lerch: Uh…
Cyrus and Logan: April fools!
[Cyrus looks at Logan.]
Cyrus: What a jackass!
[Logan high-fives Cyrus.]
Logan: I know!
Seth Lerch: Speaking of jackasses…
[Logan and Cyrus look at Seth Lerch.]
Logan: Say something?
Seth Lerch: Yeah, that’s get to the ring!
[EMTS come by picking Rage up carrying him away, Logan picks up the hardcore title by mistake putting it over his shoulder, Cyrus picks up the WCF title by mistake putting it on his shoulder. Logan, Seth Lerch and Cyrus slide into the ring. The little parade circles around the ring watching them, someone from outside the ring all hand them microphones. Logan begins to speak, as he does he leans backwards.]
Logan: I! AM! STILL!
[Logan leans forwards.]
Logan: THE!
[Logan leans backwards.]
Logan: W!
[Logan leans forwards.]
Logan: C!
[Logan leans backwards.]
Logan: F!
[Logan leans forwards.]
Logan: Champion!
[The crowd in the arena begin laughing. Logan begins pointing at the “Hardcore” title.]
Logan: I said I’m the WCF champion! And yall are laughing? Laughing at the face of treachery?
[We zoom in on Cyrus’s face to see him smiling, he looks down at his title and his eyes widen, he sees it’s the WCF title. He walks up to Logan and whispers something in his ear, Logan’s face expression changes and the Hardcore title falls off his shoulder, Logan acts like it wasn’t even there. He makes his right shoulder go up and Cyrus puts the WCF title on his shoulder, Cyrus picks the hardcore title up and puts it on his shoulder.]
Logan: As I was saying. I am the WCF champion, and I will always be the WCF champion! I am a man with no fear!
[All of sudden we see Katie slide into the ring, Cyrus smiles at her and she smiles back. She sneaks up behind Logan and taps him on the shoulder. Logan screams and drops his title and microphone, he doesn’t turn around to see who it is. He slides out of the ring and gets under the ring. Katie picks up the microphone.]
Katie: It’s just me Logan.
[Logan slides out from under the ring looking a little embarrassed, he hear the crowd laughing and he tells them to shut up! He slides back in the ring and picks his WCF title back up putting it over his shoulder, he stares at Katie snatches the microphone from her.]
Logan: Thank you for your surprise welcome. Now, last night some promises were achieved. First off, I whooped Hellz Angels ass! I went in to defend my title, but didn’t because of that sum bitch Creep Dreathing!
[Seth Lerch walks up to Logan whispering in his ear saying “It’s Creeping Death”.]
Logan: I know it’s Creeping Death! That’s what I just said! Now, when I said I would beat Hellz Angel and defend my title…HAHAHAHAHA!
[The crowd looks confused and so does T.O.T.]
Logan: You dumb basterds! I had my fingers crossed!
[Logan raises his left hand up crossing his fingers.]
Logan: Just like that! But I did walk out WCF Champion, and many may say I’m out to seek revenge on Creep Deathing.
[Seth goes to whisper in Logan’s ear but Logan cuts him off.]
Logan: I said Creeping Death! Well, I’m not out to seek much revenge on the little boudle.
[All the members in the T.O.T look confused.]
Logan: Because I wished he would have attacked me instead! If he did then there would be no DQ! Who, I’m getting double teamed a couple minutes and theirs no DQ! But when someone comes out to help me…holy crap! Ring every bell in the world! You see, I wish he would have came out to attack me…then…I could say I beat Mad Dog, Creep Deathing, and Hellz Angel to defend my title!
[Seth goes up to whisper in Logans ear again.]
Logan: Alright! Get me a freaking vocabulary book! Okay Seth! I miss pronounce the boudles name a few times and you want to start world war three! Creeping Death! There we go, well this Wednesday Night, in my ring…you will wish your name was Creep Deathing because I got some knuckle sand witches with the name Creeping Death all over them!
[Seth looks at Logans hands and he snatches the microphone away from Logan.]
Seth Lerch: Yes, on his knuckles he has wrote in black ink…Creeping Death…not Creep Deathing!
[Logan snatches the microphone away from Seth.]
Logan: Give me back my damn mic!
[Logan looks back at the crowd.]
Logan: And Wednesday! I will do…watcha go-
[Seth snatches the microphone away from Logan and Logan stares at him, Katie and Cyrus look at each other talking.]
Seth Lerch: Yes, this Wednesday! Logan will do watcha gotta do do…to…
[Logan snatches the microphone away from Seth.]
Logan: Did you just say…do..do? And are you using my qoutes?!
[Seth snatches the microphone back as Logan glares.]
Seth Lerch: Get to the top!
[Logan glares at Seth and pushes his shoulder. Seth and Logan look at each other glaring, it looks like their about to fight. But they hug each other and the crowd boos, Katie and Cyrus look kinda disgusted. Logan and Seth Lerch start smiling and laughing. Seth Lerch hands Logan the microphone and we hear Logan say thank you.]
Logan: Uh, don’t cross the boss!
[“The Struggle Within" by Metallica plays throughout the arena. Logan drops the microphone, Cyrus drops his and Katie drops the one she took from Seth. They all get out of the ring, Logan, Cyrus and Seth Lerch are stand by each other laughing, with Katie and the rest of the fake Logan parade walking behind them. They walk up the ramp and go backstage, the cameras switch backstage.]
Logan: Hey, I’m going go catch up on something. I’ll see yall later.
T.O.T.: Later Logan!
[Logan waves and leaves with the WCF title over his right shoulder. He walks down a hall in till he makes it in front of Creeping Deaths locker room. Logan pulls out a sheet of paper and a black pen. He begins writing on the paper, moments pass by as Logan keeps writing. Once Logan is done writing, he takes a piece of tape and sticks it to the locker room door. Logan puts the pen in his pocket and runs off. The camera zooms in on the letter..it reads.]
Letter: Hey Creeping Death what’s up? Nothing much here. Long time no see huh? Will I will see you this Wednesday, now take it easy on Logan. Because I got a plan…see here it goes, get Seth Lerch to make a no DQ match, Seth Lerch wouldn’t hesitate on making it one…because that means T.O.T is allowed to the ring, so take it easy on Logan because I want some of him when he’s at full strength so we can really kick his ass. I’ll bring at bats so we can hold off T.O.T. Because they will try to come out once Logan is busted up and out of it…then all you have to do is pin the champion! One, two, three! Remember, take it easy on Logan till I come out…and don’t worry about losing.
Your Former NCW Tag Team Parnter,
Rick Mad
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Post by Gemini Battle on Apr 22, 2015 12:45:46 GMT -5
My first ever rp was as a character named Mysterio. A luchadore wrestler. I did a 10 line shoot and was decimated completely and realized I was way out of my league. That was in 1998. Then I stopped for like 10 years and stated again as a character named The Criminal Bogie which was the same premise as my Livewire character (musician gone pro wrestler) I lost every match I did as him...like 15...
The first rp I wrote was him driving down the road and a lady yelled at him because he was driving too fast so he pulled over and beat the shit out of her and then did a shoot.
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Post by Thomas Uriel Bates on Apr 22, 2015 15:48:51 GMT -5
I do not have access to my first roleplay. What I do remember, it was in a fed called DOWF, and it was maybe twenty lines. My character, Krow, did a simple shoot against some guy I don't even remember. I actually won the match, and went on to get my first World Title in less than a month. The talent in that fed was horrible though.
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Post by marcmayhem on Apr 22, 2015 15:53:08 GMT -5
My first ever rp was as a character named Mysterio. A luchadore wrestler. I did a 10 line shoot and was decimated completely and realized I was way out of my league. That was in 1998. Then I stopped for like 10 years and stated again as a character named The Criminal Bogie which was the same premise as my Livewire character (musician gone pro wrestler) I lost every match I did as him...like 15... The first rp I wrote was him driving down the road and a lady yelled at him because he was driving too fast so he pulled over and beat the shit out of her and then did a shoot. I actually like this idea. |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2015 7:39:03 GMT -5
Man I WISH I could find my early work and post it. I've been in this since the late 90s, been here in WCF over 10 years. I'm sure if I dig in my closet I can find old hard drives that have them on it, but sadly none on this laptop. I am in the process of accessing a couple of old email addresses to see if any are stored in there by any chance. I used to have a website called The Graveyard. Partial pages on the site, like my list of RPs that were stored can be found at this link: www.oocities.org/gravedigger_efed/If I find anything, I'll post them here. |
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Post by Gemini Battle on Apr 23, 2015 8:11:52 GMT -5
My first ever rp was as a character named Mysterio. A luchadore wrestler. I did a 10 line shoot and was decimated completely and realized I was way out of my league. That was in 1998. Then I stopped for like 10 years and stated again as a character named The Criminal Bogie which was the same premise as my Livewire character (musician gone pro wrestler) I lost every match I did as him...like 15... The first rp I wrote was him driving down the road and a lady yelled at him because he was driving too fast so he pulled over and beat the shit out of her and then did a shoot. I actually like this idea. You can mayhrmize it |
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Post by marcmayhem on Apr 23, 2015 8:23:44 GMT -5
I actually like this idea. You can mayhrmize it Thank you I just might. No scratch that I will now that I got the nod probably in a week or 3 |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2015 8:40:36 GMT -5
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Post by Crow McMorris on Apr 23, 2015 10:21:06 GMT -5
Back in 2008, I used to write the adventures of a certain Tyler Hayden/Haywire. Basically a very similar creation to Scarecrow. Tyler had a tag team partner called "Mr. Scarie", who used to wear a burlap sack over his face, claimed to be over three hundred years old and lived in his mother's basement. Tyler and Scarie were tag team partners, and held W2K's tag titles for some time. Hence why my character now is called, "Scarecrow", as a nod to those times that I look back on with great fondness.
Below isn't one of my first or favourite roleplays, but it is of that time.
Suicide Girls Interview: 06/23/08
Tyler Hayden lights up his third cigarette and kicks back; the backstage suite is a no smoking zone but he knows the owner; so we circumvent normal protocols and take a step away from the conventional. His lighter is stainless steel, with a death's head motif carved deep into the metal. Our surroundings are dark yet vibrant; a flash of flame illuminates this home for the independent and the daring; this is the White Rabbit club; the town's premiere rock venue, situated dead centre in the heart of in San Antonio, TX; Tyler's here tonight to support his good friends, "The Brotherhood" a local kick ass metal band about to go on stage and perform tracks from their next studio album "Despised", live in front of a rabid home crowd. The beer is flowing and so is the conversation as I sit down with one of W2K's most unconventional stars. Not familiar with wrestling two thousand? You're about to be as these underground Texas irregulars go global, taking their unique brand of high flying violence and intense sceptical out amongst the masses; if your a regular on this site then you'll be familiar with the guys from 2k. We've run interviews with Nic E dangerously, Cross and Ryan Cain in the past, but this is our first meeting with the "scarecrow revolutionary"; whose profile over the past few months has sky-rocketed with his triumphant return to the sport back in February this year. With a new attitude and a thriving singles career, it was time to discover what drives this enigmatic anti hero.
SG: I suppose the first question I have to ask is, why the return? You left the business for over a year, right?
TH: Yeah, about that. W2K had closed, NMW had closed. It seemed like the right time to take a step back and re-evaluate my career. I had joined PWT and there was some progression, but even with the hint of a programme with Javen on the cards; the spark just wasn't there for me. I guess I wasn't ready at the time to step up to the plate. Even though I had headlined BUD; walking though a world of sparklers and bright lights just wasn't for me. In some ways I guess it never will. I don't fit that mould of a steroid jacked monster, or a cartoon superhero. I exist in a world closer to reality; and yet for some that scares them. I guess I hold a mirror up to their faces and they don't like what they see. I can understand that though, there's a lot of ugly people out there (laughs)
SG: With that in mind, what does the prospect of a W2K going main stream mean to you now?
TH: It's good. A lot of people are worried that W2K will change and move away from what has made the company so successful for so long; innovation. But that just isn't going to happen. W2K isn't about giving away a million dollars, nor are we all going to get extra marital affairs courtesy of a Vince Russo spin. This is fucking reality; that's what going to bring in the viewers. We play for keeps.
SG: Speaking of which; last week on Rage you walked away from NED as he received a beat down from Christian Michaels and his PWT invasion. Do you condone their actions? And why didn't you make the save, as you did with Ryan Cain by your side on Meltdown? It just seemed to some people that perhaps you've switched sides? Are you siding with Michaels now?
TH (laughs) No, no at all. Examine that situation again; what did you see? I know what I saw, I saw Nic E Dangerously get what he deserves; he's a manipulator; a cult leader who's made some seriously destructive decisions over the past few months; he's been on a one man crusade to destroy Ryan Cain; he kidnapped CJ; he lead multiple attacks on Cain. As you may know, my fate has been inexpiably linked now with Ryan's; I have to keep the Franchise safe, so that my career remains intact, one falls we both fall. Not happening. Maybe the experience of having PWT spray painted on NED's back it will be a cathartic experience for the jagged reality; to finally know what it feels like to experience the sharp end of a stable war for a change; If I were you, I wouldn't cry too loudly for the man; remember whose side NED chose when it came to the MSN/W2K censorship war? Yeah; what goes around comes around. And as for Michaels and me? I'm two for two. Hopefully CM realises now not to go toe to toe with me; or I'll have to embarrass him once again. Just for fun. He should just call it quits and buy me another supercar.
SG: About that, rumours persist that your new Dodge Challenger ended up on Alex Redmond's doorstep in Ohio, is that true? Does he know about Dante's "remodelling"?
TH: Guess he does now. The situation with FWA and Redmond was never fully resolved before my departure as far as I was concerned; Redmond never answered my texts nor my answer phone messages; I never discovered why there wasn't any adequate security during my match with Ramirez; nor how Sparrow managed to attack both myself and Ramirez without anyone backstage stepping in. Seemed to me, to be a set up; but as for answers on that? All I got was static. But when I offer to sell the challenger to Alex, guess what? Redmond replies back the same fucking day. So what does that tell you? Alex was too busy to give me the right answers; only the ones that suited him; so he got what he deserved. I have a name for it; I like to call it "Jizz it forward"; I'm sure Alex is happy about the investment though, after all; he can always clone himself a Dante now that he has all that DNA lying around.
SG: Any word on Dante; does anyone know where he is?
TH: No, but he'll be back. Count on it.
SG: This week you're going up against James McKnight. Some see this as a passing of the torch match; your the current Impact champion, James is a former holder of the title; a belt he added a vital injection of prestige to. Are you looking forward to proving your worth against one of the company's old guard?
TH: I wouldn't necessary call James, "Old guard"; the man's been a mainstay of the company when it's needed him; he's sort of a journey man if nothing else; he wanders in, he makes some noise, then he evaporates. The man is an archetype; the angry heel who isn't as tough as he seems; he plays it up a storm to his credit, McKnight has his shtick down pat; but we're on the verge of a bold new era here; what worked once isn't an option anymore. We have to think outside of our cosy insular universe where it's faces and heels; there's six billion people walking the face of the planet, not six billion cartoon characters. If we're to connect with any of them; we need to speak their language. Now, James, he's strong, but predictable.
SG: So he's a walkover?
TH: No way in hell. You'd have to be a fool to think that.
SG: Ah, sorry
TH (shakes his head, smiles) It's like this, you get these small chances in this business; miniscule variations in your survival rate that you have to latch on to. Exploit for all their worth. Once you discover a fissure of weakness you have to turn that into a fault line; sometimes when a wrestler describes an opponent it can come across as if there's this huge margin for success; but that's just not the case. Nothing is set in stone; I'm only confident here because when you're dealing with a James McKnight. You might as well rent out Groundhog Day for the night because he's a man of all too many habits. Same old power moves; same old Tiger Driver from the heady days of grunge; that robotic chain of tri-fecta of suplex's. His mindset is just as predictable; James has issues; mostly with failure, with the concept of loss. So you to get to the man you play up upon that; harass him. There's no shame in tapping out to a man the calibre of a Seifer; unless of course you're James McKnight and you're deluded enough to believe that your above even the slightest hint of imperfection. That's an ego that's driven to a fault; one in which I'll exploit to its fullest depths come Monday night. The fissure shall become an abyss.
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Post by Vulgar on Apr 25, 2015 15:50:48 GMT -5
This is the oldest I could dig up: ( The setting is at a small, silent house in the District of Columbia at dusk. We see an man in the house who is in deep thought. The mans name is Shipwreck Carnival.) Shipwreck( thinking): "So, I guess I made my decision. I'm finally going professional. Tonight's the night I leave. After all these years of studying, I chose violence as my career. I guess it was destiny, though. War practice is not an obsession you can shake off easily. It's highly dramatic human interaction, violence is natural. First I become a champion of Savate in France. Then I win a few Chessboxing tournaments in the Netherlands. Then I leave my luxurious life in Europe for a fighters chance in New York. I start hanging out with a few carnies who teach me how to wrestle. I start beating people up on the streets, and I start to enjoy it. I beat more people up, but this time in a cage at a bar. Then I meet Monroe Klingerman, a man who finally convinces me to go professional. I go through all these events and I build up my ability and power. I gain momentum until I hit it big time. Now it's finally time to hit it. Originally, I prepared myself for a life of science and peace. Now I'm going of to a world of violence and chaos. Was it the right path?" ( Mr. Carnival gets up from where he was seated.) Shipwreck: " Enough wavering.Yes, it was the right path! I love fighting, it's what I live for. Fighting is a science." ( Mr. Carnival goes all through his house and packs things in a suitcase. He then goes outside to his Cadillac with everthing that he needs.) Shipwreck:" The BlPW seems like a good federation for me. I will travel the U.S to get to it's matches. On the way, when I'm hungary, I will eat. When I'm tired, I will sleep. If this car gets broken beyond repair, I will walk. When I need to train, I will." ( Mr. Carnival enters his car with his things.) Shipwreck: "Let's see: I have my money, I've got my mana cane, I've got my prized handball, and I've got my weights. My house is locked, I have a full tank of gas, it's dark out, and I'm wearing sunglasses. Time to go!" ( Mr. Carnival pulls out of his driveway as he thinks more) Shipwreck: " Going through with this professional wrestling career could ruin my life, or make it the best it could be. I could be a great champion, or I could die in car crash right on this road. Whatever happens, I will note stop trying. I will not give up!" ( Mr.Carnival drives along, contemplating what he will do tomorrow, and where his matches will be.)
Sometimes I try to find shades of this insanity in my newer posts: pitfight7.wordpress.com/2014/07/26/underground-pitfighting-the-master-of-lay-and-pray/ |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 25, 2015 16:01:49 GMT -5
Uh, yeah...
My first RP was written in 1999 in a mad dash, as I got inserted into a tournament for the World Title, which had just been vacated. Don't ask how, but I made it up to the Semi-Finals, before getting eliminated by the eventual World Champ, Eric Myers. This was in a place called King Hiss' GWA, where I eventually won every title except for the World Title. That World Title was one of a few that had eluded me.
I looked through at the roleplays to see what I was up against, and I said to myself "Fuck, why not?"
I'm sure it was a 20-line shoot-fest that resembled something a second grader once said to me when I was in the third grade, but there's my two cents.
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why didn't you do that Grime! It would have been funny! Honestly people nowadays lol
