Post by Corey Black on Mar 13, 2007 0:30:05 GMT -5
Our scene opens up to something that should be familiar, but hasn't been seen in quite a while. We're looking at a grassy hill. Blue sky, slight morning fog. Butterflies and birds fly by, bunnies hop, happiness all around. Trees surround the grassy abode, making this an enclosed space.
Without warning, rain begins falling from the sky, ever so slightly. Drop after drop until dark clouds roll in and block the sunlight from the grassy hill. Day does indeed turn to night. Lightning begins crashing every which way, lighting up the sky. One big flash causes the camera to cut out for a split second. Upon recovering, the camera shows a very different sight. No different location, but what lies in said location.
A tall stone bell tower. From the top of the tower is a wooden roof raised by wood planks. The wooden roof houses a giant bell, which is visible through the opening. At the base of the tower is a giant wooden door. The camera sneaks up to the door, and it opens up from a hinge on the top. Inside the tower is dark, but a spiral staircase going up the walls of the inside of the tower can be slightly seen as we go up them. The walls tell stories of agony with scratches and blood stains all the way up to the top where another giant wood door is. It too hinges on the top as it opens, giving way to the bell.
Standing by the bell is Creeping Death, wearing a black hoodie with the hood up. He is just gazing at the bell itself before turning to the camera.
Creeping Death: Wrestling Championship Federation has never been like this before. No support from anyone. Basically no friends. Nothing.
While I am taking care of my Modern Cutting Edge Division, basically everyone I have seen has ridden the name of MCE into the ground. I don't care what anyone says, until you're in the ring with someone from the Modern Cutting Edge Division, then you have no room to speak whatsoever. Thus, on the next Slam, I've asked for an MCE member to be booked against someone from WCF. Kind of like a cross promotion, but not really. I hope that will shut everyone the fuck up about MCE.
In somewhat other shocking news, this is my first REAL appearance outside of a wrestling ring in, well, just about two months. Busy with MCE and the like, you know.
Regardless of that, War is on the horizon. Good ol' War. Unlike most other Wars, though, the winner of this one gets a World Title shot basically whenever he chooses.
Creeping Death walks over to the edge of the bell tower. There is a stone lip around the top. Creeping Death sits with his back against the lip and the camera infront of him.
Creeping Death: The moans and groans of my fellow WCF members are the same as years before them. "Creeping Death has already been to the top of the mountain." "CD has other things on his agenda other than War, he'll never make it." "Creeping Death is worthless, a has been."
I'm really sick of it. Every time I've heard the same complaining, and every time I've come back better than ever and everyone promptly shuts the fuck up, whether by their own accord or the doctor wiring their jaw shut after being in a match with me. Either one, really. Take your pick, both are correct answers.
So where am I to begin? I imagine everyone is going to go down their list of people, who am I to be left out? Right from the top.
Lawnmower Jones, coming off the beatdown of Lonnie at the hands of Bobby Cario. That whole situation is more ridiculous than Ellis and JoJo. The what, Encyclopedia of WCF Wrestlers as told by Lawnmower Jones lists myself as weird, gothic, or emo? Emo? ... EMO? Punishable by death, Jones. Punishable. By. Death. I hope to Ozzy Osbourne we meet up in the War. Just like every time before, I'll dump you on your head and take what you could have, and that is a World Title shot.
Has been? Ha. Has been. I've heard it time and time again, as I mentioned before. I'm officially placing you on the list of people that just don't get it. You've done nothing notable around here but get your ass beat HARD by myself at XIII. In fact, why don't I add another volume to your set right now?
Creeping Death grabs a piece of paper from his pocket along with a blue pen and begins writing. As he finishes, CD shows the paper to the camera.
Creeping Death crumples the paper up and throws it behind him before tackling the rest of the WCF War roster.
Creeping Death: Number two on the list is Skyler Striker. Smashing young lad, Hardcore Champion, overall cool dude. Mysterious, dark at times, kind of reminds me of myself, and I surely like that. Without a doubt, he's got a shot. I'll give credit where it is due, he did what I couldn't, and that is beat Jack of Blades, by hook or crook, he did it. Bravo.
Jay. Jay. Biggs. Off the top of my head, you'd be the first one I'd name as an opposer of the MCE Division. Why is that, honestly? Because we open every WCF show and consistantly put on matches that should very well be main events? Or is it because we don't put up with the same bullshit you do, and have to cheat and be bitches when it comes to winning matches? We do what we have to do, if it isn't enough, we try again. Mister Television Champion, I ask, what have you done? World Title? I've done that. Twice. Television Title? I've done that. Twice. Tag Team Titles? I've done that. Twice.
Now let's list everything I have done that you haven't. I've run my own pay per view, and I'm poised to do it again this year. Twice. I've started my very own division here in WCF, I run, operate, and even compete in it. I have been a driving force and cornerstone here in WCF for years.
And now everything you've done that I haven't... Jake Hudson. Twice. Jose Jose. Twice.
See the pattern, JJ?
Conrad motherfucking Howell. He's still here? Surely fooled me.
Thunder, Bobby Cairo and Danny Vice, guys that have slipped under my radar, but not WCF's. Thunder, you basically took the TV Title from me, something I haven't really got the chance to pay you back for. I'll give you the props you deserve, months late or not, you got the win. Congrats. Good luck. All that. I'm not really good with this, honestly. I would gladly kick your head off if I could, I really would. That's just me.
Cario and Vice, hey guys. What's up? Think you'll win? You do? Sorry.
Jayden Sarek, Biohazard, Mike Corral, Matthew Clark, Chris Avery, you all get grouped into one big chunk I'm going to dub "Jobber Genocide." Good fucking luck. Ha.
Adam Knite, buddy of Davey Boone, current Tag Team Champion, still a total douche. The shit you pulled on your debut will not be forgotten. I'm not exactly one to attack people from behind, but turnabout is fair play.
TVO, TXO, HPV, QVC, AJ Jam, KFC, SOS, ABC, Mike Ragnal, one two three, it's all the same to me. Who are you? I'd like a formal introduction before I own you newbs.
Bringing me to Outcast and Davey Ortega, two guys that have been around longer than I have, and are currently supporting Net Championship Wrestling, a company I hold very high regards for. Being a former World, Cruiserweight, and Tag Champion of NCW, I feel it is my civil duty to shut Outcast and Ortega the fuck up. You suck. A lot. I'd vote PsychoMantis to spearhead an NCW revolution over you. Go back to wherever you came from and leave NCW be.
That appears to be the end of the list, eh? Pretty good. Should shape up nicely. But when it is all said and done, Jack of Blades or Logan, prepare to take on the Human Horror Show in the coming months. I know you haven't got all you can handle, for when War is all said and done, the bell will have tolled nineteen times, and only one will be left standing.
Creeping. Death.
Creeping Death stands up from the stone floor and walks over to a rope hanging down from the top of the tower. He pulls down on the rope, which causes the bell to swing. The swinging causes the bell to toll, and the scene fades out with Creeping Death pulling the rope over and over again.
Without warning, rain begins falling from the sky, ever so slightly. Drop after drop until dark clouds roll in and block the sunlight from the grassy hill. Day does indeed turn to night. Lightning begins crashing every which way, lighting up the sky. One big flash causes the camera to cut out for a split second. Upon recovering, the camera shows a very different sight. No different location, but what lies in said location.
A tall stone bell tower. From the top of the tower is a wooden roof raised by wood planks. The wooden roof houses a giant bell, which is visible through the opening. At the base of the tower is a giant wooden door. The camera sneaks up to the door, and it opens up from a hinge on the top. Inside the tower is dark, but a spiral staircase going up the walls of the inside of the tower can be slightly seen as we go up them. The walls tell stories of agony with scratches and blood stains all the way up to the top where another giant wood door is. It too hinges on the top as it opens, giving way to the bell.
Standing by the bell is Creeping Death, wearing a black hoodie with the hood up. He is just gazing at the bell itself before turning to the camera.
Creeping Death: Wrestling Championship Federation has never been like this before. No support from anyone. Basically no friends. Nothing.
While I am taking care of my Modern Cutting Edge Division, basically everyone I have seen has ridden the name of MCE into the ground. I don't care what anyone says, until you're in the ring with someone from the Modern Cutting Edge Division, then you have no room to speak whatsoever. Thus, on the next Slam, I've asked for an MCE member to be booked against someone from WCF. Kind of like a cross promotion, but not really. I hope that will shut everyone the fuck up about MCE.
In somewhat other shocking news, this is my first REAL appearance outside of a wrestling ring in, well, just about two months. Busy with MCE and the like, you know.
Regardless of that, War is on the horizon. Good ol' War. Unlike most other Wars, though, the winner of this one gets a World Title shot basically whenever he chooses.
Creeping Death walks over to the edge of the bell tower. There is a stone lip around the top. Creeping Death sits with his back against the lip and the camera infront of him.
Creeping Death: The moans and groans of my fellow WCF members are the same as years before them. "Creeping Death has already been to the top of the mountain." "CD has other things on his agenda other than War, he'll never make it." "Creeping Death is worthless, a has been."
I'm really sick of it. Every time I've heard the same complaining, and every time I've come back better than ever and everyone promptly shuts the fuck up, whether by their own accord or the doctor wiring their jaw shut after being in a match with me. Either one, really. Take your pick, both are correct answers.
So where am I to begin? I imagine everyone is going to go down their list of people, who am I to be left out? Right from the top.
Lawnmower Jones, coming off the beatdown of Lonnie at the hands of Bobby Cario. That whole situation is more ridiculous than Ellis and JoJo. The what, Encyclopedia of WCF Wrestlers as told by Lawnmower Jones lists myself as weird, gothic, or emo? Emo? ... EMO? Punishable by death, Jones. Punishable. By. Death. I hope to Ozzy Osbourne we meet up in the War. Just like every time before, I'll dump you on your head and take what you could have, and that is a World Title shot.
Has been? Ha. Has been. I've heard it time and time again, as I mentioned before. I'm officially placing you on the list of people that just don't get it. You've done nothing notable around here but get your ass beat HARD by myself at XIII. In fact, why don't I add another volume to your set right now?
Creeping Death grabs a piece of paper from his pocket along with a blue pen and begins writing. As he finishes, CD shows the paper to the camera.
The WCF Wrestlers: Volume 2A
The WCF Wrestlers: Volume 2A is an in-depth, fact-based, encyclopedia-type resource guide to all of the wrestlers in the WCF that qualify as people that will be beat down by Creeping Death in a weeks time.
Lawnmower Jones: A Lawnmower Jones is a complete fuck up of a wrestler and person in general. A Lawnmower Jones is usually seen in the gardening department of Sears, usually with a bottle of lotion and a towel. A Lawnmower Jones can go fuck itself.
This list does not include, but is not limited to everyone on the WCF roster. Period.
The WCF Wrestlers: Volume 2A is an in-depth, fact-based, encyclopedia-type resource guide to all of the wrestlers in the WCF that qualify as people that will be beat down by Creeping Death in a weeks time.
Lawnmower Jones: A Lawnmower Jones is a complete fuck up of a wrestler and person in general. A Lawnmower Jones is usually seen in the gardening department of Sears, usually with a bottle of lotion and a towel. A Lawnmower Jones can go fuck itself.
This list does not include, but is not limited to everyone on the WCF roster. Period.
Creeping Death crumples the paper up and throws it behind him before tackling the rest of the WCF War roster.
Creeping Death: Number two on the list is Skyler Striker. Smashing young lad, Hardcore Champion, overall cool dude. Mysterious, dark at times, kind of reminds me of myself, and I surely like that. Without a doubt, he's got a shot. I'll give credit where it is due, he did what I couldn't, and that is beat Jack of Blades, by hook or crook, he did it. Bravo.
Jay. Jay. Biggs. Off the top of my head, you'd be the first one I'd name as an opposer of the MCE Division. Why is that, honestly? Because we open every WCF show and consistantly put on matches that should very well be main events? Or is it because we don't put up with the same bullshit you do, and have to cheat and be bitches when it comes to winning matches? We do what we have to do, if it isn't enough, we try again. Mister Television Champion, I ask, what have you done? World Title? I've done that. Twice. Television Title? I've done that. Twice. Tag Team Titles? I've done that. Twice.
Now let's list everything I have done that you haven't. I've run my own pay per view, and I'm poised to do it again this year. Twice. I've started my very own division here in WCF, I run, operate, and even compete in it. I have been a driving force and cornerstone here in WCF for years.
And now everything you've done that I haven't... Jake Hudson. Twice. Jose Jose. Twice.
See the pattern, JJ?
Conrad motherfucking Howell. He's still here? Surely fooled me.
Thunder, Bobby Cairo and Danny Vice, guys that have slipped under my radar, but not WCF's. Thunder, you basically took the TV Title from me, something I haven't really got the chance to pay you back for. I'll give you the props you deserve, months late or not, you got the win. Congrats. Good luck. All that. I'm not really good with this, honestly. I would gladly kick your head off if I could, I really would. That's just me.
Cario and Vice, hey guys. What's up? Think you'll win? You do? Sorry.
Jayden Sarek, Biohazard, Mike Corral, Matthew Clark, Chris Avery, you all get grouped into one big chunk I'm going to dub "Jobber Genocide." Good fucking luck. Ha.
Adam Knite, buddy of Davey Boone, current Tag Team Champion, still a total douche. The shit you pulled on your debut will not be forgotten. I'm not exactly one to attack people from behind, but turnabout is fair play.
TVO, TXO, HPV, QVC, AJ Jam, KFC, SOS, ABC, Mike Ragnal, one two three, it's all the same to me. Who are you? I'd like a formal introduction before I own you newbs.
Bringing me to Outcast and Davey Ortega, two guys that have been around longer than I have, and are currently supporting Net Championship Wrestling, a company I hold very high regards for. Being a former World, Cruiserweight, and Tag Champion of NCW, I feel it is my civil duty to shut Outcast and Ortega the fuck up. You suck. A lot. I'd vote PsychoMantis to spearhead an NCW revolution over you. Go back to wherever you came from and leave NCW be.
That appears to be the end of the list, eh? Pretty good. Should shape up nicely. But when it is all said and done, Jack of Blades or Logan, prepare to take on the Human Horror Show in the coming months. I know you haven't got all you can handle, for when War is all said and done, the bell will have tolled nineteen times, and only one will be left standing.
Creeping. Death.
Creeping Death stands up from the stone floor and walks over to a rope hanging down from the top of the tower. He pulls down on the rope, which causes the bell to swing. The swinging causes the bell to toll, and the scene fades out with Creeping Death pulling the rope over and over again.
