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Post by Spencer Adams on Jul 24, 2017 12:49:53 GMT -6
Theme:TV Title RPCompetitors are allowed 1 RP with a 3k word limit that will count towards both the TV title and as hypermedia points and must post between the start time of 12am central time and end time of 12am central the following day. |
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Post by SEAMAC on Jul 26, 2017 9:41:53 GMT -6
This match was announced a few weeks ago and my boi, the straight up Savage Spencer Adams put out an open invitation to anyone interested in going up against the Coked Up Mad Man. There were six entries.
L. Verez.
Dylan Wade, the wildcat
NO-va Kaine. Nova? That fgt still has a contract? Fuck. Meth must be a hell of a fucking drug but I can hear him now “ Gah, ZMAC, I’m on Oxycodone.” Nigga, when you drink industrial solvents, you come talk to me. Until then, get cho jobbah ass outta here.
Yung Kazward. A man still needed to break out of the mold that his forefathers and I created. It’s a sad fucking state.
Corey Black and Jay Price; my bois in Pantheon. However, I don’t think they realized that I was the man holding the belt. They may or may not be active in this. However, truthfully, if it comes down to it, they know ya boi is a savage killah.
For those in the back, in the stands and at home, cracking a cold one with the boys, they in for a treat. They know that Ol’ Z is going hard on this shit and I aint backing down or stopping for anyone or anything. Including my Pantheon bros.
Zombie McMorris didn’t come to Summermania just to leave emptyhanded. I did not innovate and reinvent time after time just so L. Verez or Dylan Wade could walk in like this was is going to be ‘fun.’
This will not be fun. You will not enjoy this.
This will not be over quickly.
Those who know- go ask Kaz Mazy; He’ll tell you all that you’re in for a fight.
I’ll make you question your life choices.
I’ll make you question your sanity.
People only want to try this once.
People only want to come up against Ol’ Z just to see what its like, just to say that they did it.
I’m something to be conquered, I suppose.
Well..
CONQUER. THE. HATE.
~ Return to Poonguinea ~
ZMAC stepped on the tropical sandy shores of the island nation of Poonguinea. His boots sink into the sand as the earth crunches and gives way under his feet. He has not been to PG in years and this visit was unannounced. However, the All Father was there to greet him with crossed arms and a sniff hanging from his lip.
“Z.” Rasped the All Father with a glare. “You’re trespassing.” ZMAC walked up to the All Father and pointed at him.
“You see, now that’s the kind of welcome that I needed. Arnt you going to invite me in for coffee and cake?”
“You weren’t invited.” The All Father stands strong in opposition.
“Balfore, what does it mean to be invited; really? Who among us is truly invited?”
“No one.” Says The All Father in a harsh tone as he turns to walk away but is cut off my ZMAC who turns to Shadow and appears in front of the seven foot ruler of this island nation.
“That is kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, the Yung blood has decided to encroach on territory that does not concern him. Unlike me, he is treading in lands that he did not help build. Unlike him, I was here when the machines attacked –“
“And unlike you, he didn’t stab me in the back.”
“First off, your liver is in the front of your body. Second, I only grazed it. However, I didn’t come here to talk about old times.”
“No. You came to talk about the Yung blood- he is grown in Thick. He is his own man. Your problems are your own. I will not help you with him.” Says The All Father as ZMAC talks rather greasy and snake like.
“I am.. not asking you for your help. I am telling you that there will be mass casualties. Some new blood scrubs named Dylan Wade and L. Verez. But also your new best friend, CD and his little butt muppet, Price. Truthfully though, tell me; does Cairo know? He’s alive, somewhere right? I mean.. we’re all alive, somewhere out there. Does he know you went and got a Summer home next to dethfort? I don’t think he does.”
“Whats your gimmick, Z?”
“No gimmicks needed, Balfore. I just like doing things like this. I just want you to know, because you care about the Yung Blood. I want you to know that his savage beating goes out to the ones he loves. To the ones that he’ll leave behind. There is a gauntlet match to for both my TV and Hypermedia championships in UCI; theres seven of us. I want you to know Balfore, that you cannot not help them. You cannot save them and you cannot stop me.”
“Half ironically, I suppose. However, I don’t care. Yung Blood is his own man and he’ll do what he must. I hope you’re prepared for this. Now if you’ll excuse me.” The All Father walks past ZMAC and continues on up the sand dude in front of him.
“I want you to know that I’ll send you a macaroni necklace out of his entrails.” Shouts ZMAC.
“ I like mine Aldente!” Shouts back The All Father as he disappears over the dune.
~ Back at Pantheon Tower ~
Its quiet at Pantheon Tower. Everyone has disbanded for Pantheon business in other parts of the globe and that just leaves ZMAC and Ruby at the tower. In the main dining hall, at the long oak table that CD “found” in a an church that had been “burnt down” somewhere in Finland, Ruby and ZMAC enjoy a quiet meal together. However, the strong willed Ruby speaks up from here chicken ceasar salad and confronts Z.
“Don’t you think its strange that both CD and Price, your Pantheon friends are in this match.”
ZMAC looks up from his steak and potatos and rests his elbows on the table.
“No. I don’t. CD aint worth the trouble and neither is price. They got into this match without even realizing who had the belts and that’s because I’ve been out filming that movie and trying to find Dave Chappelle.”
“Well now your friends are going to try and take your belt.”
“Look around you. You see this, they built this. You see where I’m at; I’m at because I got there on my own. I’m not worried about CD or Price. A belt in Pantheon hands is a belt in Pantheon hands and that better than Nova, Dylan, L. Verez and even Kaz and me and Kaz- we used to be boiz.”
“What happened?”
“When you throw a mans mentor into a volcano, you tend to lose a friendship.”
“Oh, right… that.”
“So things between us are a bit personal. I know that he’s going to kum hard; harder than anyone else. The trick is that we know each other really well; so its going to be a fight. Then I know that L. Verez is looking to scoop up the TV Championship and make a name for herself.”
“Alien piece of fucking shit is what she is. Transsexual space faggot is more like it. I should go in there and bust her ass in the name of the Galactic patrol. Twelve parsecs. Hard labor.”
ZMAC pauses for a moment.
“Was that a Star Wars and Judge Dredd reference?”
“It might be.” Wink.
“How long exactly is twelve parsecs of hard labor.”
“Why don’t you come back up stairs and I’ll show you.”
~ Run Down ~
You see, boys, this is a long distance sprint. Each contest is a match into its own but that the end of the day, its how well you perform that carries you towards a match with the Coked Up Mad Man. Hold your applause, it won’t be that fucking simple. If’n you want to come up strong against ol’ Z ya’ll need to consistently place no lower than third for five consecutive days. Now, considering that theres seven of us and Ol’ Z is a mother fuckin G and Dylan Wade, Nova Kaine, and L. Verez are fucking homo scrub lords too busy writing edge lord fan fiction – I suppose the bar is already set.
Indeed. The bar is already set. Right now it is a challenge for any of you to even try and place first above ol’ Z as he is in his element. I am in my glory in this match and this is just a tip toe through the swamp to ensure that the creatures don’t get you good for the sake of getting’ you good.
Kaz Mazy, I’m looking at you.
Kaz, I’m looking at you because I know you and I can see where your skills will rival my own. We have similar career paths and company. I take you as no fool but you must be a fool if you think you have what it takes to master this format. You can throw out the terms and skills and the talents that I invented and you can know that I will always be the better man than you. This is just another venture is in short, sad career of Kaz Mazy. While my legendary career as an innovator and survivor continues. I’m glad you came to the U- better than the dub – you’ll get treated better. However, you should know better than to make an enemy out of me. In fact, I know you do and truth be told, as foolish as that is on your part; I’m proud of you -> If’n I could be proud. If’n a man like you whose only studied in the THICK could defeat the originator of it. But I can hear you now, boy. I can hear you now.
“Gah, you may have invented it but I do it better. “
Says the turtle memes from 2015 or sum shit. Yah, or sum shit. Like I said, this is a marathon sprint and ZMACS long legs are made from that kind of thing. All you did yesterday was suck my dick the way you always do. That’s kool, son. That might get you far ( LOL FUCKIN HELL ) . This kat is furious over this entire thing because he needs to get some gold and legitimize himself in the eyes of himself because when he looks into the mirror he sees a fraud perpitrain’ a perpetrator. And that’s where it ends for you.
Corey Black and Jay Price.
You all my boys from Pantheon but I’d be remised if’n I skipped over you for respect. Ya’ll know if’n you be stepping across the ring from me, I aint got respect for either of you cuz now ya’ll be tryin to do be dirty and ol’ Z just cant have any of that. You both part timers who – I know are doing this to get the name value out there but you aint taking the HM or TV titles away from me. That aint how this is going to go. ZMAC is a dangerous man and that you know. You know this is not something to risk your limited careers on.
I have no problem ending the careers of my friend. To be honest, I’f be doing you an honorable favor. I have many names up on my list. As fo you, CD but unlike you, I look and strive to continue my proud tradition. Yours is just a bi-product of drops out who last a week or two. We were suppose to have an awesome match last summer but then some tubby piece of shit got in the way. Perhaps we can fnish what we had planned to start but be warned. I will enjoy this. I will seek to end both you and jay price.
Jay price. I know you like to collect title belts with politics to make up for your sub par in ring ability. You were that running joke for the longest of times but now you’ve broken out of that mold.
Bad timing my friend. It is ill advised on your part to come after me for anything, let alone for a championship. Jay Price do you or anyone else even remember your finishers or anything about you other than the fact that you suck? The fact that you and CD are just jumping on over to advance your own name rather than promote the Pantheon name against me is unjustifiable. In fact, I find this to be treasonous and to think, ya’ll thought I’d be the one to betray. However, look at the snakes that I see before me with my own two eyes.
Damn shame that I’m going to have to stomp this problem out with my own boots. Then again; I’m glad that I am. If either of you make it to the end to fight me, face me- try and up and take my TV Championship-> I’m going to break your fucking necks for thinking that you can undermined all that I have built both for myself and the Pantheon name. If this be the end of it. Consider yourselves fucking ended.
To the rest of you, who have little to no bearing in this match.. the Dylan Wades and the Nova Kaines and the L. Verz’s. This is a very dangerous game of chance that ya’ll be playing and know that your bid for the TV Champion would only free me up and you can damn well bet that I’ll get a rematch. That’s just it works out week to mother fuckin’ week. So yah.. ya’ll can try and take this shit awf me but know that any one of you – anyone in this match that tries to peel this TV strap away from me -> Now that eventually I’ll get the go around again and will be sharing off against you somewhere down the line for this belt and that will be the fucking worst day of your life.
Because truth be told.. Zombie McMorris is going to kill you all and wear your faces like this was a girl from Winterfell.
Too bad ZMAC is already home in this match. Too Bad ZMAC is going to take whoever stands across from him later in the week and puts them through so much, they’ll be begging God-Nilla to take them. Please, please, Godnilla, save us from ZMAC.
Indeed. However, God-nilla cannot save you.
And he knows why.
This week, like the last fifteen fucking weeks the result will be the same. Zombie McMOrris will compete and he will come out on top. I will retain my TV Championship as you fuccbois scramble to try and take place over place and end up with that Hypermedia trip.
Well… it ain’t going to happen. I will drag you all from the back and hit you with an axe wound right in the middle of the ring and pin the whole lot of you in a dog pile.
cuz you’re all pieces of shit beneath my boot.
DEUCES BITCH!
wordcount: 2525
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Post by Corey Black on Jul 26, 2017 19:40:52 GMT -6
Friday, July 14th, 2017
Minneapolis, Minnesota The night sky in Minneapolis is crisp, a welcome change from the humid days of summer. Downtown, the skyscrapers that stand tall are mostly empty. Businesses are closed for the weekend, except the top floor of one is lit up like Christmas morning. The tallest of the buildings reaches fifty-seven stories up, the IDS Center. Top floor is said to be maintenance. Top floor is actually Corey Black’s home. It’s actually the top two floors, Corey’s apartment is a wide open layout. Upstairs isn’t even technically a full floor, it’s a half-floor with balcony type overviews of the main floor living and dining room. Corey is seated at his huge television set that is mounted on the wall, when his phone rings. He pauses the video game he is currently playing (it’s Zelda) and answers.Corey Black
Yeeeello, better be important, I’ve got Guardians on my ass.Voice
More than you know, check out the email I just sent you. It’s a pretty rare chance.Corey swings over to his laptop and opens his email, reading the contents. He smiles a bit.Corey Black
You’re suggesting I go challenge for a title in UCI? Are you serious? I’m a WCF guy, Nikki.Nikki Venus
Think about it. It’s your chance to prove to everyone that you’re great no matter where you wrestle. Call me back and let me know.The phone call ends, Corey drops his cell on the couch next to him. He picks up the controller to continue playing Zelda, but he stops. He laughs. There’s a medium-loud buzz that echoes through the apartment, and elevator doors in the wall open up. In walks internationally recognized pop-star Taylor Swift. Stay with me here, UCI.Taylor Swift
Goodness, I’m starving. Got any food around here?Corey Black
Yep, extra large pepperoni hanging out in the kitchen.Taylor Swift
That is pizza.Her long legs take her to the kitchen, where Taylor grabs a slice. She nearly inhales it.Taylor Swift
Oh snap, Breath of the Wild is great! What are you doing now?Corey Black
Powering through shrines, same old. Taking Link places never imagined, fighting enemies that come from a dark dimension. Taking him on a journey nobody thought he’d actually go on.Taylor is catching the drift, her face contorts into a more puzzled look.Taylor Swift
What does Nikki think you should do now?Corey Black
There’s an open challenge match over in UCI for the Hypermedia and Television Titles, she thinks I should sign up and go see what that’s all about.Taylor Swift
Sure, do it.Corey Black
Wait what?Taylor Swift
What’s the harm? Hell, it might even be fun. UCI is a brand new place, when is the last time you went somewhere that wasn’t in your blood since day one?Corey Black
Well, IWF was the last excursion I went on.Taylor Swift
And you had a blast. Go for it dude.Corey nods and switches over to his laptop again, confirming his intentions of coming to UCI and winning hardware.Corey Black
Man, it’s going to be a big script flip for everyone there.Taylor Swift
Why’s that, having an actual bonafide WCF legend wrestle there?Corey Black
That, and when I do win their titles, it’s going to be a message sent into the hearts of every single wrestler on that roster. Anything can happen in this crazy world of ours. When opportunity presents itself, you have to take full advantage – or someone better will come along and drop elbows on the whole roster.Corey and Taylor share a bit of a laugh, she comes over and sits on the couch with her slice of pizza while Corey goes back to playing Zelda.Wednesday, July 26th, 2017
Unknown Location The screen is black, but soon it opens to Corey Black standing in front of a black and orange UCI banner. He turns to look at it and smiles before turning back to the camera.Corey Black
I bet none of you ever expected to see this. The franchise player coming over to play a game for the off-shoot, the off-brand that like a phoenix rose up in the ashes of what was May of 2016. I know the whole story, I know what a big deal this is. But why? Why would Corey Black, WCF LEGEND, come to UCI for what would normally be nothing more than a filler match? Easy. I’m here to buck the trend. Lots of people show up in UCI and claim they’re going to do this, claim their going to do that, but they fail and end up dragging their sorry asses across the country to try to get contracted elsewhere. See, that’s not me. I’m not going to be pushed around by the management here. I am going to show up, tell management what is going to happen, and they’re either going to let me run over this place like a steamroller or I’m going to have to do it with an iron fist. To those UCI on the roster watching this, please take heed. I am not one of you. I don’t give a shit about a single person here. I don’t even care about the belts I’m going to walk away with. My sole purpose for coming to UCI is to shake this place to its core. Break the mundane pace you’ve had. Breathe some fucking life into the men and women that believe they are the best wrestlers going today.. and show you that you’re not even close, bitches. I’m the King of All Wrestlers. I’m The Pantheon. I am Corey – motherfucking – Black. Who stands in my way?
You’ve got this fuccboi Dylan Wade walking around like he owns the place, like he’s some sort of threat. Kid has zero wrestling matches under his belt. He’s some scrub off the street, coming in here thinking he’s going to create a splash and kick off his new career. That’s fine and dandy, cupcake. You do you, UCI is the land of opportunity. Surely it isn’t the land of misfit toys, sendoffs from where I come from, right? Of course not. This is the new shit. UCI is hip, UCI is cool, UCI isn’t anything like my place. Let’s check out the list of people who have held the World Title here. Crow McMorris, Howard Black, Alex Richards, Andre Hol – you know what, on second thought, let’s not do that. Don’t mind me, Dylan, after this you won’t ever have to see me again. I’m taking these belts back to WCF and I’m never looking back. I’m not doing it to be malicious, I’m doing it for the same reason you are. You saw the call, you saw there was a match where anyone could come battle it out, and you signed up. Difference is I’m a world renowned, Hall of Fame professional wrestler. You’re … a rapper? A barista? No, you’re an idiot sandwich. You don’t have history anywhere, and I’m not going to make a guess at it. I’ll just have to drop you on your skull and send you back wherever you came from. You’re probably one of those weird kid aliens, aren’t you? This fucking place is filled to the brim with them, GOD.
If you were to take the President’s worse case scenario wrestler, you’d get L Verez. Illegal alien? I mean actual literal alien? Check. Can’t decide if a boy or girl? Check, no military for you. Like, of course this fuckin’ thing exists. I’ve hung out with Omega and Polar before, this is right up their alley. I’m surprised it took the Guardians this long to absolutely destroy social norm instead of just flirting the line with it. That’s great, sure, whatever, you be you and all. Just know that you are stepping into the ring with a motherfucker that doesn’t care if you’re The Pope, if you’re standing in my way, I’m elbowing you back to Omicron Persei 8 where you belong, L. This is my planet, I own it. You’re going to be in my home. The professional wrestling ring. I don’t have the time nor the patience to drag an epic out a special little snowflake like you. I’ll be sure to check out your Tumblr ranting post after the match, you can profess your undying love for the best wrestler in the universe there. In fact, send your family down here too, I’ll have a field day knocking their blocks off and proving that I AM the best goddamn wrestler in ANY universe.
Then there’s Nova-Kaine, best known for being every create-a-wrestler made in the 12-14 age range on the latest wrestling game. As absolutely generic as they come. I’m supposed to be impressed by a dude that has a pun for a name and spends half his paycheck on hair dye somehow? Dude, duder, bro, bruh, dude, shut the fuck up. What the hell is with this place? Aliens and drug addicts. That’s the entirety of the UCI roster. Fucks sake. Nova, can I call you Nova? I don’t care you mindless drone, Nova, here’s some HIGH facts. You suck. You’re never going to amount to anything. You should have stayed in Ohio. Your work ethic reminds me of my old friend Jeff Purse. You should never be allowed near a ring or a school. The sad thing is, I used to be you. I mean, not like that. I used to put my body on the line every single night for the sake of the crowd, it was my best weapon, and I was young. If I left the crowd happy, I was happy. Then one day, I grew the fuck up and realized they’re not going to be the ones to cement my legacy in this business. I am. So I traveled the world and learned from the best of the best. I spent months in a Canadian wrestling camp, weeks down in Mexico under a mask, YEARS training in Japan’s hardest hitting dojos – all because I finally smartened up and stopped jumping off the nearest ladder. Don’t get me wrong, I can still do that shit with the best best of them – you can see me do just that against FPV this weekend. I’m sure you have the show preordered. But maybe you can finally learn something from someone that matters. You’re not cool, you don’t stand out. If everyone stands out, then everyone suddenly becomes the same dipshit. Do all your flips and all your drugs, I’ll be over here cruising to yet another victory in a place I shouldn’t even be in. Sit on that and smoke it, fuccboi.
THE THICKNESS. ARRRKAYOHSHIZZLEOUTTANOOOWHAAAAR. Kaz. Fucking. Mazy. You may as well be from L’s planet and have Zombie’s drug habits, you fucking space cadet. You signed our soul to this place more than a month ago and you’ve done fuck all, while I am here for the fun of it and I’ve already made a bigger impact than you ever will. That’s the fun about you Kaz, you hype yourself up to be the second coming of Bobby Cairo, when you’re little more than a third-rate ripoff of The Godfather himself. Son of a bitch would be rolling over in his lava-grave if he saw what a slimy, no good rat you have become. I heard you were there in Denmark. I heard you were on the frontlines. Lots of people were. Lots of people did it to boost their Twitter followers, ya feel me? I don’t owe you a damn thing for showing up. Not a single one. If anything, you owe me for keeping pro wrestling in the world at such a high level. So high that people will pay weirdos like you to ply your craft across the globe. That’s all because of me, Kaz. Your whole existence is because I allowed it. Without Corey Black, your entire world is homeless shelters and soup kitchens. UCI doesn’t even come close to existing without me. Think about that for ten seconds. Spencer Adams doesn’t meet the right people, he doesn’t buy a warehouse in Chicago, none of it. I’ll accept your apology after I crush your soul and your championship dreams at Summermania.
What’s up ZMAC, I see ya. I saw you flying the Pantheon flag high and mighty for all of three seconds before you fucked off to the minor league. Big fish in a small pond, lining those pockets. I appreciate the hustle. I can sit back and laugh about it now.. when you sit back and laugh about how I took all your gold in a few days. I’ve been around you for years now Zom, but not once have I ever sat down and thought about how I feel about you as a person. All the success you’ve ever had is sent right up your nose in the form of a white powdery substance that tweeks your brain and fries your pain receptors. Night in and night out, day after day, morning by morning, no matter what the situation is, you are nose deep in a pile. You’re a disgrace to the sport. You’re a hazard to yourself and everyone around you. When you came along with the other jackoffs that I once mistakenly called Pantheon, I was told you were the wildcard we needed. Pure wrestling wasn’t going to cut it anymore, we had to have a wildman at the ready. Sure, fine, let’s load up this fucking addict and see what happens, man. What happened was the pressure finally caught up to you. Your heart was never into it. You rubbed elbows with the best, and suddenly your commitments elsewhere were more important than fighting the good fight. That’s why I have no issue at all removing the belts from your possession – you will likely be in jail for possession by the weekend anyway. Zero blemishes on the record. Let’s change that. Let’s humble the unhumblable. How about we strip away the layers of coke and get right down to taking away this run you’ve been on here in UCI. It ends with the King taking all your gold back to his castle.
Of course, it could have ended there. We could have gone out there, showed the crowd what professional wrestling is all about, and gone home with our heads held high. Belt or not belt, I’m going to prove to everyone in UCI that it doesn’t matter where you come from, if you have the skill, you’ll go far. But then, after I announced I’d be in the Hypermedia Championship Match, a ghost that haunts me decided he’d love to come along for the ride. For some god-awful reason, Jayson Price hopped out of my shadow and proclaimed his entrance. Like he would overshadow an announcement like Corey Black coming to UCI. Please. Sure, former General Manager coming back to the ring, that’s a big deal. Big get for UCI’s fans, they should be happy. Problem is – Jayson Price is still Jayson Price. He’s still my little bitch. I’m going to snuff out this cockroach like I have for the last five fucking years. I don’t know what your deal is, you must love getting beat by me, because you FOLLOW ME EVERYWHERE TO DO IT. Sure, you beat me in our first one on one match in WCF for the Hardcore Title. Alright, congrats. Ride that wave for seven more years. Let’s not forget that I was the first man to pin you there. And then I beat you mercilessly one on one in every single match since. You even followed me to IWF because your obsession couldn’t be quenched anymore. I left WCF in the dust to blaze another path, only to be dragged back down to the muck by “King Internet.” Fucking ripoff. “Nightmare on South Street.” Fucking ripoff. “I’ll surprise everyone and join the Hypermedia Title Match at Summermania.” Fucking. Ripoff. You couldn’t just wait until December when I tear your head off your shoulders and ride off into the sunset with your dome hanging from my belt. You needed another taste, another possible match where you might be able to sneak another fluke win over the actual King. I invite you to try, and then piss off to Philly for the next few months and let me enjoy my retirement tour in peace. You’ve wrestled about zero matches this year that have mattered. Whoa buddy, your team beat my team in a tournament, fucking congrats, where’s your pudding filled trophy? Oh, I’m sorry. Your trophy is in another castle, fuccboi. Just like your career. You’re a one-trick pony, and you don’t even do that very well. You’re about a half-trick pony and that’s even being generous. Your only saving grace is how this is your turf. You’ve been in my house for nearly a decade, for once I am coming to where you made your bed first. I’m kicking it over and setting the whole fucking place on fire. UCI will never be the same after Summermania, you can bet your bottom dollar, you bottom-barrel piece of human garbage. |
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Post by NovaKaine on Jul 26, 2017 20:00:42 GMT -6
Drugs…. They say marijuana is a gateway drug… Where the hell did ZMac start? He sells coke as if it's like a household item that every person should have in stock…  ZMac would probably endorse this death to kids… I'm a salesman and I'm trying to sell peace and tranquility. Hell I'm turning people into temporary superheroes… not the kind of result that coke and heroin gives either.  I endorse heroes… hell they're old heroes too. Like this old dog standing before you. ZMac is on a tear through any and all opponents he has had that has attempted to challenge him. I'm double booked at Summermania so I'm obviously scared to put in the work. ZMac is quick to play the bully, it's kind of his thing it seems. Fgt this fuccboi that… English isn't his friend and he is a walking warning sign of what drugs will do to you. ZMac is the kind of guy who peaked in highschool but still hangs outside the school to show the kids how to party. ![]() You know this kind of guy, the one who can't let IT go. He's proven to be talented enough to win titles and he's good enough to keep some. Good for him… but he's gonna be tested this time around more than he has before. Hunger is a hell of a motivator and that's what we have in this match. Old dudes who have competed around the world and young bucks looking to make a name for themselves. L and Dylan are indeed hungry but they're both missing that little bit extra. That piece that'll push a man… or woman or IT to that next level to be something better than themselves. Both wrestlers haven't done anything to make anyone take notice of their efforts… They're lackluster at best and that's why they will fail to gain any kind of traction on this match. They're the types of people i should be taking under my wing and showing them how to better their chances of shedding that underdog stigma… I at least give back, but can the rest of the ‘vets’ say that? Corey Black is too busy taking part in his farewell tour in WCF, this little detour is just something to boost his overgrown ego… we all know he’d be nothing without the Creeping Death… Which reminds me, i should totally make some ganja that's called that… you smoke it and you too can have a successful hall of fame career. Kaz swoops back picking up my nephew and fills his head with hopes of finally finding success… But what has he really given him besides empty promises? Kaz has had success but this matchup isn't his to win out… His promise of victory will be just another empty promise… Then there's Price… Mr. Every title… A work horse, can't deny it, but this whole match is nothing but a joke to a man like Jayson Price. Price is too good for this match and it'll be his undoing obviously. Price sees this as an easy victory that he barely has to show up to win… He's already signed his victory check and he doesn't even know what's coming his way. I am indeed extreme and i will indeed raise the bar in this match. Yes i was too high yesterday to meme attack my opponents, but all i really saw was a bunch of ninja turtle jokes and poor words being thrown around… Nova-Kaine came back to prove that he can still go and I'm going to do just that. Claiming titles is only the beginning… I am going to be on the rise again… I am the HERO to the Underdogs and i will be a rolemodel for them to measure their success with. ZMac and company… You can't ruin my mellow and I'm gonna fly HIGH at SUMMERMANIA DUDES! Bring your best and leave out all the rest. |
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Post by Kaz on Jul 26, 2017 20:31:53 GMT -6
"I can 'ear you now, Jerry my bouy", an ethereal voice rang out through a dark and dampened hallway-like structure, "scweamin n' cwyin about how you gon' be somebawdy, how it ain't gon' be da same dis fookin' time..."
"Shut up", Kaz's voice replied, cocksuredly.
"Wuahahahah", the ethereal voice replied, "it's always da same. Over n over again, history gon' repeat itself like its name be Zombie McMorris. Speakin' of McMorris...how is da Scawecwow?"
"I said shut your mouth", Kaz interrupted, "You ain't got any power over me...not anymore."
Another chilling laugh in the darkness.
"Yuh, yuh, you be wight my son", it replied, "Nah, dis one? You did to your own fookin' self. Good luck dis weekend, son, you gon' be needin it."
And like that, Kaz found himself pulled out of his darkness, staring blankly at a stark white wall directly in front of him. Beads of sweat dripped from his bangs as he felt his arm begin to clinch tight, running up his neck, and rooting chills deep in his spine. He saw a pair of dark purple eyes as a hand began to wave in front of his face.
....
But those eyes pierced through, sending even more feverish chills through his body.
...
That top hat dipped below as a hollow pumpkin toothed smile etched itself into his minds eye.
"Yo, Earth to Kaz! You there, brother?"
Kaz finally shot out of his stupor and turned to his right, where Damian Kaine stood urging him back to reality.
"Aye, man", he said with a hint of concern in his voice, "Where the hell were you just now?"
...
"I think I forgot to shut my garage door", Kaz replied.
Damian stared back at him incredulously.
"Bro, were in you're garage", he replied, "don't try to bullshit me...was it your arm again?"
Kaz looked down towards his cyber kinetic arm, his hand was spinning and oiling, fairly routine maintenance it performed when it sensed Kaz's heart rate dropping into rest...but that wasn't the reason it was bugging him. It's like there was a part of something else inside of it...something far more sinister than he even imagined his father, Da Baron Sawmedi, could ever be. A phantom limb beneath a phantom limb, further pulling him down the rabbit hole...
But the less Kaine knew now, the better off he would be. He needn't get wrapped up in whatever dark play his destiny had in store for him.
"Yeah, it's still hard to believe it's gone", Kaz replied, "Sometimes, I can still feel my knuckles poppin' or my elbow itch, ja feel?"
Damian was trepiditious, but decided not to further press the issue, instead only to pursue words of encouragement, and the promise of an open ear.
"You know, I can't pretend to understand the sacrifice you made for Crow that day", he said, "He might be your best friend, brother...but I'm always here for you, you know that right?"
Kaz genuinely smiled. It felt good, in these trying times, to be surrounded by close friends, men he could call brothers. He offered up some dap to Kaine, who returned it in fervor, before popping his neck sending a machine gun like sound shooting through his back.
"What say we get back to da spar, fam?" Kaz asked, "This HyperMeta match ain't gon' win itself, my nigga."
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Let the yoke fall from our shoulders
Don't carry it all, don't carry it all
We are all our hands in holder
Beneath this bold and brilliant sun
But this I swear to all
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"Hey, hey is dis thing on? Can you all hear ya boy, Kaz? Good, good, let dis mark da day dat you almost beat Cappin' Kaz Mazy, comic' in like a straight up pirate to plunder and pillage da plunderers and da pillagers, the Zombie McMorris' of da world, the Corey Blacks and da Jayson Price's of dis wide, Infinite Universe. Ya see, deez are da kind of guys dat pop in to da UCI for another notch in their belt, yet don't have a clue on how to carve out a legacy, yet want to talk about me like I'm some kind of bygone relic of days past.
"Now I know what y'all niggas are thinkin'...y'all wondering where Bobby Cairo at to hold my hand through all dis again...don't get it twisted, Cairo taught me a lot and was a real Brother in Thick when them stable wars were burning da brightest...but don't you ever think for a second dat he was to attribute for all of my success. In fact, I might turn around and say he had me to thank for everything he had. Tag Team Championship belt wrapped around his waist and da World Heavyweight Championship strapped firmly to his Jewish cock...not a single match he went without me in his corner, pullin' weight or rootin' for him every step of da way. I was the one constant driving force in da Poondock Saints, so I say y'all better come correct or get knocked da fawk out.
"On second thought, imma straight knock ya out anyways. Dats what I do when da Championships are on da line, just ask my three title reigns and see what in da fawk they gotta say about da matter. When da goin' get tough, Kaz Mazy always come through in da clutch, for real for real....unlike, say, a Jayson Price who tries to get his jollies by shoehorning his way into matches he has no business bein' in. How's that People's Championship treatin' ya Price? Heard ya had to pull out all da dick pics to get that one Rollin' for ya? But seriously, you're a hell of a competitor in your own right, and a future hall of famer as well...in the WCF. But dis da UCI, playa, and ya about to get a lesson in humility, iffin' you decide to show up and receive it.
"Your age started to show last night when you busted out the most outdated meme formats I've ever FAWKIN' seen in my dear life. Dats when you know da gears are startin' to wind down on Jayson Prices time clock, and I'm about to clock dis nigga out for da first and last time in da UCI. Dis business is all about evolution, fight in' your way to da peak and surmounting it...but you hit da top and quickly fell back down. Ain't nothing wrong with bein the People's Champion, but there is something wrong with bein' a two time World Heavyweight Champion and settlin' for anything less than da best. But dats Prices career in a motherfuckin' nutshell right there...settlin'.
"Price is settled into bein' Corey Blacks whippin' boy quite nicely, the machismo jock always falls for da gothic chick, am I right? I'm just fuckin' witchya Black, but for real for real, what da fawk are you even doin' here my nig? You come to get your jollies off, get ya cheap ass pop, and ride off into da sunset on dat Creeping Death retirement tour trip? Nah fam, not on my watch. You came at me, claim in' I had been officially one upped, yet you fuckin' completely blew off night one of this HyperMeta gauntlet with a handful of memes worse than Jayson Price. Even my grandma be droppin' halt ass memes on Facebook and she barely knows how to Facetime.
"Dats a sad ass state of affairs we find ourselves in right here and now, brother dude. It's funny, as I watched you completely flounder last night, I wondered if you were even gonna stick it to da end here, or if you realized just how in over your fuckin head you actually are. Dis ain't da WCF where you get to coast on accomplishments of yesteryear, nigga, dis is da UCI where you actually have to put forth some effort. You gotta fuckin sweat it if you want it. You can't just act like a hipster douche and expect dat shit to fly. Here's somethin' you might be sweat in'..,
"You, my nigga, have officially been one upped. Now go play some Mario Kart wit Johnny Fly and pretend like you still relevant in dis day and age, and I'm gonna go win some fuckin' matches.
"Speakin of winnin matches, one person, or creature, or thing around here that has yet to do any of dat somehow found their way into a match they ain't want no part of...L Verez, yo I look at you and I see some thing with a lot of potential, but you're blow in' it on some worthless SJW trip you ain't even need to be a part of. Aren't you an alien or some shit? How ya gonna define yourself as transgender? Shit hardly makes a lick of sense, you an alien nigga, we get it, that makes sense. Just be an alien, for real for real, don't need to be convoluting with whatever journey of self definition you feel you gotta be a part of.
"Just to clarify, I ain't against whatever you got goin on. Ten out of ten niggas wish they could wake up and know exactly what they wanna be in dis life. You wanna be a female alien, dats cool and all, but I'm here to be a Champion, and dats what matters. You seem like that kind of gal who spends a lot of time playin too many video games and ghost writin' slash fanfic on some dingy dark part of the Internet somewhere, but I got a little story for you; it's called Kaz Mazy pins your shoulders to da mat for dat three count and eliminates you from the HyperMeta gauntlet. Is dat title too long? Let me give you da cliff notes; You lose, my nigga. Come correct.
"Da only one dat appears to know just what his station is in dis match is motherfuckin' NovaKaine, and witta name like dat, I'm surprised he knows anything at all. He knows he doesn't stand a chance in hell of even winnin this shit, so he doesn't even try. He's right up there with L in regards to knowin what he wants out of this life, though his scenario isn't quite as courageous as hers. Nig done lost his wife and kids to da bars, and dats something I just can't get behind. That's the type of guy I ain't got an ounce of respect for, for real.
"Move, you out here tryin to be some love able goof but you're own damn family don't even see you dat way. They got programs for people life you, step one is gettin dropped right in your skull by Kaz Mazy so I can knock some sense right into your dumbass. Step two is bendin over backwards so you maybe have a shot of seein dat beautiful baby of yours again. You think I hit da bottle or the pipe a little harder when I found out I was a going to be a father of three? Nah son, the only thing I hit harder were my opponents so dat I could make sure I was providing a life for them chilluns, I made a promise to myself to be the best fuckin father that I could so my kids didn't have to stay up at night wondering if their daddy even cares about dem at all.
"You make me fuckin' sick to my stomach right now. I'm gonna make steps three through twelve knockin your ass around in dis tournament just to really drive the point home dat I don't think men like you are worth the skin printed on ya.
"Skin...skin, for real for real, we gotta another pile of skin just renting space in dis match right now, fuckin' Dylan Wade. Boy, ya got two first names and...I just can't abide that. Who are you? What are you? Go see a therapist and sort dat shit out before steppin foot into my wrestling ring, fam. Dis right here is da UCI, not some backyard fuckville. You gotta walk through dat curtain, you gotta make your way down dat ramp, ya gotta make deez people give a fawk about ya, but all they say is a name on paper.
"What are you about Dylan? What drives ya in this crazy fuckin business? Who da fawk do you think you are in dis HyperMeta Championship match? You're ink ain't even dry enough on dat contract to have even earned a shot at this match, my man. This shit is unreasonable and a solid reason why you ain't gonna win dis match - besides dat RKAZRO dats gonna knock you straight out, for real for real.
"Finally, we gettin down to the meat and potatoes here, da man who finds himself as he perennial welcome wagon regardless of what flag he's flying, fucking Zombie McMorris. Da man dat claims to live and breathe UCI; spoiler alert, dis nigga dead as fuck, so he doesn't even technically live and breathe at all. Dis nigga dead just like his chances of walking away with either of his belts at Summermania. Like I said before, da name of da game is evolution, dudes been alive for hundreds of years and still posts dead as fuck memes from 2015. Nigga should be da wave of the future, forgin paths, yet he seems to be stuck in da same frame of mind, whatever year he started snortin dat coca deep up his asshole.
"Between butt chuggin meth and eatin crushin defeat, somehow dis nigga somehow stays winnin titles. You gotta respect dat kind of talent, for real, or maybe dat just speaks to da talent level the UCI currently offers. I bet Spence is thankin whatever Godson he worships that his boy Kaz Mazy decided to sign on dat dotted line because he knows I can lead dis company where it needs to be, but I ain't ever been about skippin my place in line...nah, dats a ZMAC move through and through.
"Though his pedigree should speak for itself, dis nigga stay losin matches and ending up in stables he has no business bein in at all, flyin dat flag high, until they realize that dis nigga just can't cut it in da big leagues. Dats why he picks on whatever Johnny come lately dat floats his way. ZMAC is just a horror story you feed to da greenhorns, da one dat makes them straight up shit their britches...you know, until they actually get in the ring with him. Then they realize dat da stories were just stories. Ain't nothin to be scared of when you step into the ring with ZMAC, besides catchin some kinda strange STD that science has yet to co e up with a name for.
"Just like ya Shia Clap, ya Murray sip, and ya FAWKIN LOL FGT, ya straight up outdated, outmatched, and out fucking gunned Ol Z. The crowd sees me fight and they say 'you still got it', they see Z whiff a fucking body toss and they say 'dis nigga ain't never had it all'. That's where we are in twenty seventeen, my man. Ya managed to float along on name value alone here in da UCI, but dat World Tour 69 jus fuckin crashed into the Atlantic, hit an iceberg, and sunk to the bottom of the ocean floor. Now you're holding on to ya belts like "I'll never let go"...but ya gon' get that shit ganked from ya fam, whether you like it or not.
"You ain't even gonna die an old women, warm and asleep in your bed. Nah, ya gonna die a very slow, very visceral, very real death at the hands of the Godson. Real competition finally showed up on your doorstep, iffin ya even got a doorstep nigga because you live in a dumpster, which is a perfect analogy because ya straight up garbag son.
"Kaz was literally born to do dis shit, and den reborn to do it again. I'm about to make ya all bow to da Godson. Recognize. I'm out, fam!"
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L Verez {L-7}
Hypermedia Champion
Open minds and positive vibes!
Posts: 289 
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Post by L Verez {L-7} on Jul 26, 2017 22:35:13 GMT -6
You licked her!?
Zima'Ion seems to be quite astonished by our Protector's… unconventional strategies during her triple threat tag match at last week's Overload. We're currently at our home base within L Verez’ home planet, confined by the rounded, indigo colored walls of L’s tech room. Zima'Ion is sitting on L’s workshop table whilst L is working on upgrading Zima’s suit. Luminous and Polonium are also with us, helping with this project.
L: Yes. I did, indeed, lick the face of Karlie Nash. Only because I knew how badly it would anger her. It worked too! Alex and I won the match! My first main event. All that, just to end up as a lumberjack the following week… I don't think Spencer knows the potential that's staring at him right in the face. If it weren't for the Hypermedia Open Challenge, I probably wouldn't even be in the card for SummerMania.
L Verez signals Luminous to pass her one of her tools. L then has Zima lift her left leg up to work on the calf portion of her suit.
Luminous: He could possibly have put you in the Rising Stars tournament, if you weren't to have accepted the Hypermedia Open Challenge. I believe it would have been very likely that you would come out the victor of that tournament.
NO ONE CAN WITHSTAND THE PROTECTOR'S DEADLY BRAIN ERASER.
As Polonium makes that unnecessary comment, he passes a unique looking bottle of Zim-Quilla over to L Verez. I believe it's…… boot shaped. L takes a swig and then continues her work.
L: Thank you, Polonium.
ANYTHING FOR YOU, PROTECTOR.
L: Back to what you were saying, Luminous. Yes, that is quite the possibility, but you never know with Adams. I think he has it out for me. But I'm still in this Hypermedia Gauntlet, and I'm determined to walk out with at *least* one of those titles!
Zima'Ion examines the upgrades L currently finished up on her suit as she's still working. Her traditional Quarian pattern remains intact, but it has a new Lavender glow to it, with her actual outfit getting a darker, indigo look, matching L’s walls.
Zima'Ion: So, who are all your opponents in this gauntlet match?
L Verez takes another swig of her Zim-Quilla. Zima lowers her left leg and raises her right leg.
L: You'll never stop with these loaded questions, will you?
L signals Polonium to hand the Holo sphere to her. Polonium takes the Holo from his chest and hands it to L. She then hands the Holo over to Zima'Ion.
L: There's the list. We can go one by one with my opponents’ info, if you'd like.
Zima'Ion: Good idea! Okay, so first, there's Nova-Kaine, who you've faced before.
L: Ahh, yes. The Hero of the Underdogs. He technically won our first bout, thanks to that spoiled gallon of Milk, Karlie Nash. But then Alex Richards and I were able to win the triple threat tag match against him and Damian Kaine, as well as Karlie Nash and Calvin Harris. Now I know him all too well. His strategies are scattered, if you can even call them strategies. As kind as he is, he's also very careless. It doesn't help that he has another match before the Gauntlet. He's going to have a tough time dealing with us if he's not at 100%. And I'll be 3 steps ahead of him the whole time as well. There's no way he's going to be in my way on my quest to become dual champion.
L brushes off Zima's leg and takes another swig of Zim-Quilla. She begins to work on the foot of Zima’s suit, and seems to be massaging it in the process.
Zima'Ion: Okay, next up is… Kaz Mazy.
L: Yes, I remember Kaz Mazy. He teamed up with Damian Kaine's doppelganger, to try and gain the UCI tag team titles from the Mustache Bros. They weren't successful though. Probably because of the doppelganger. If it were the real Damian Kaine, they might have won. But this gauntlet match is a whole other story. Especially with me in the match. I already know some of his key weaknesses. He's a decent human, but he has a huge chip on his shoulder. He's very cocky, and he's also a big show off. He's going to be in over his head during this match, especially if he's too busy showing off. He'll leave himself open. He will meet his Celestial Descent, and will fail his mission to become champion. Kaz Mazy does not stand a chance against “Not of this World” L Verez.
L Verez puts down her boot bottle so she can remove part of Zima's suit. One of her toes, it seems, which reminds me of the Pokémon Mewtwo. Zima braces herself, knowing that this could bring her a lot of pain if this doesn't work. L Verez slowly slips off the suit piece.
L: Perfect.
She caresses the exposed skin. The color of her skin is a similar indigo color to the walls and her suit. Zima's skin looks like it may feel amphibious, like a frog’s. Unlike us humans, Zima doesn't seem to have any toe naila. L Verez softly kisses Zima's toe. I'm unsure if that was another test, or if she just has an odd taste for alien feet… or maybe both. It causes no harm to the Quarian though, which relieves her immensely. L puts the suit piece back on. Zima’Ion seems to be fluttering a bit, almost forgetting what they were doing.
Zima'Ion: Uhh… oh, right! The list! Next is “Wildcat” Dylan Wade.
L: The newcomer! The freshly squeezed milk. Yes, yes. No one is as over their head as he is. I don't know too much about him. But what I do know is that he's lived a hard life within some of the less fortunate areas of Earth. He had to help a lot of people out, and he feels that he can do that on a wider scale in UCI. This makes him less experienced than the rest though. This usually would make him the easy target, but he does know his way through a fight. He's got a lot of heart. But does he have the skill and the smarts? The technique and the timing? Not even close in comparison to the Universal Protector. He may be the wildcard of the match, but he's nowhere near capable of defeating me. This will be an unsuccessful debut for “Wildcat” Dylan Wade.
L finishes her boot bottle of Zim-Quilla, and raises it towards Polonium. Polonium puts his hand over the bottle, his hand shape shifting into a drink dispenser of sorts… well, that's new. Hopefully, he has better drinks than Zim-Quilla. L signals Zima to stand from the workbench, so she can begin working on the waist portion of the tech suit.
Zima'Ion: Next up is Jayson Price. Ooh, that belt looks enticing.
The belt she's referring to is the one Polonium is passing over to L. It has a darker indigo tone, with the glowing lavender lining that the leggings of her suit now has. L takes the belt Zima currently has off of her suit and replaces it with the new one. It automatically attaches to the legs of her suit very firmly. L gets up and proudly takes a swig of Zim-Quilla.
L: Okay. Lower side is done. Onto Jayson Price. A returning member of the UCI roster. The epitome of spoiled, rotten Milk. I don't think he's ever actually been without a dosage of drugs or alcohol. Very heartless, and incredibly reckless. Even more so than some of the other people in this match combined. I'm surprised he's still breathing, let alone able to wrestle. Jayson Price is basically everything I dislike about Earthlings melded into one single human being. This is the person I look forward to defeating the most. He is absolutely despicable. A disgrace to the Universe. Taking the life he was given for granted. It saddens me that no lesson I could possibly teach him would be able to get through that very thick skull of his. So instead, he'll have to reach his Celestial Descent. All the way down to rock bottom, and below. Hopefully afterwards, I won't ever have to sense his awful presence ever again.
L takes a chug of Zim-Quilla whilst Polonium passes a pair of gloves to L. Obviously, they're made for Quarians, due to the minimum amount of fingers on them. Similar design as the rest of her suit so far. However, the glowing lavender lining connects to a glowing circle of the same color on the palm of her gloves. L removes the gloves Zima is currently wearing, and quickly puts on the new gloves. L puts her hands over Zima's an---
*BOOOOOM*
Bollocks, even when it's covered, it destroys my ears! The sonic boom causes Zima to stagger a bit.
Zima'Ion: Whoa… that's amazing!
L: I figured this could help you with some of our missions.
Zima'Ion: I appreciate this so much! Okay… the next person is Corey Black.
L: Corey Black… a wrestling legend within the ropes of WCF. Former host of the Creeping Death, which Kevin Bishop is now the host of. No matter where he goes or what he does, the people are on his side. He's also very good at adapting. Corey Black could quite possibly be my biggest challenge in this match. But as much as he's achieved in the squared circle, he's also lost a whole lot in his past. He's gone through much trauma. This would've broken any average person, yet he thrives on. Currently headed into a gauntlet match for two championships. But this isn't WCF. This is UCI, and within UCI is the Protector of the Universe! He has no idea what I can bring to the squared circle, and I know exactly how to break people like him down. It won't be easy, by any means. He will definitely be a tough competitor, but I'll strive to be just that much better!
L Verez keeps hold of Zima's hand. Zima holds her other hand over L’s.
Zima'Ion: That just leaves the champion. Zombie McMorris.
L: The “Ultimate Media” Champion… I've been wanting to face Z-MAC since my arrival to UCI. Since I've been here, he hasn't lost a single match. He even defeated Damien Kaine for the Television Championship. Now he holds both Television and Hypermedia titles. A dual champion. Of all the people to become dual champion… it's Zombie McMorris. Besides Price, Z-MAC is about the worst of the worst. He just… doesn't care… about anything! I'm not even sure if he cares about the titles that he holds. He doesn't care about the rest of the roster, and he definitely doesn't care about the fans. But yet they love him… they cheer for him, no matter how much of an awful, undead human being he is. He's extremely disrespectful, has no self control, and is just… vile. He doesn't deserve those titles. He doesn't deserve the recognition he currently holds. It is my duty to break his winning streak, and to finally bring him back to the dead. I don't care about what he could possibly do to me. I don't care about how much damage he's able to take. I'm going to go the distance, and I'm going to take him down, once and for all. Zombie McMorris will meet his Celestial Descent, and L Verez will become the new Ultimate Media Champion, no matter what it takes!
Luminous floats over and gently lands atop Polonium's head.
Luminous: Very strong words, L. But do not forget that this is, by far, your toughest challenge yet in UCI. Your competition is just as adamant as you are. They will not hold back against you.
Zima'Ion turns toward Luminous. She seems to have some passion in her step.
Zima'Ion: That's true. All of the competitors seem pretty tough, but I believe she has what it takes to defeat them. L has been training not stop since this match became official. She's even got all the androids built already. When L isn't helping other people, or building my suit, she's training. I mean, bosh’tet, this suit most likely would have been finished if it weren't for her training so hard. But I admire her so much whenever she steps into that ring. Her intensity and drive flare up as soon as that bell rings. The best part is that she doesn't just do it for herself. She does it for everyone that watches. This is another way for her to protect the Universe. To protect the UCI Universe, as she likes to say. She's a huge inspiration, and I'm extremely glad to have met her.
Zima turns back over to a blushing L Verez. Their relationship seems to have grown immensely in such a short time. Luminous makes a Cheshire grin.
Luminous: I agree wholeheartedly, Zima'Ion. I'm very glad to have you on board. You've made L much happier during your time here. My positive vibes go out to both of you.
Luminous floats away, as L and Zima are looking towards each other. Once again, I’ve become the third wheel. Fantastic.
L: Did you want me to continue making your suit? I know it's been taking longer than expected, and I apologize for that.
Zima'Ion: No worries, L. This Gauntlet match is huge for you. It's your biggest opportunity yet! I want you to keep practicing for it. I want you to win! My suit can be finished later on. There's no rush at all. Besides, we can continue to watch Limbo beat up the Karlie Nashdroid.
They both begin to laugh. L then hugs Zima, holding her shoulders afterwards.
L: I appreciate you immensely, you know that? You brought positivity to me when I was at one of my lowest points. Now, I have the confidence to become a champion! Zombie better hold on closely to those titles, because The Protector of the Universe is coming for them!
Zima'Ion: Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get to the ring, so you can bring it to those bosh’tets!
L Verez smirks.
L: Well, before we go there, I want to make a request.
Zima's eyes brighten up.
Zima'Ion: Anything.
L: Once your suit is done, I want to train you. Maybe one day, you can be in UCI as well!
Zima laughs. Her eyes brightening even more.
Zima'Ion: I'll consider it. I'm not sure if becoming a wrestler is exactly a good fit for me. But that's a topic for another time. Let's go tear up some androids!
L Verez and Zima'Ion walk over to the practice arena, Polonium following them. It's a huge match that L Verez is preparing herself for, but she has an incredible support system to help give her the extra boost that she desperately needs. Now, she's met with a Gauntlet match for two UCI championships, and she has all the drive to be the one to walk out as the new champion. Let's hope that the Protector of the Universe will succeed in her quest to become the Ultimate Media Champion!
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Post by "Wildcat" Dylan Wade on Jul 26, 2017 22:54:37 GMT -6
Renegade-The Prologue The camera opens to a large metal warehouse in southern Los Angeles. A large sign out front of the warehouse that reads “McNeil-Anderson Construction” is barely visible due to a lack of sunlight. The outside nature of the building is somewhat peaceful, despite being in LA. Inside the building, however, is a different story. Inside, the sounds of heavy machinery coming to a halt is heard, followed by several clunks of metal. The camera pans through a window of the warehouse, showing several large machines and a handful of workers. As the camera gets closer, it becomes evident that a brawl has broken out amongst two of the workers. The bigger of the two, a six-foot-four man named Treyvon, slams the slightly smaller figure into a nearby forklift and punches him twice in the jaw. As Treyvon attempts a third strike, the other man, Dylan Wade, ducks underneath his fist and grabs his elbow, bending his arm back to touch his spine. After a slight jerk of the big man’s arm, a small but significant snapping is heard, and Treyvon lets out a ferocious roar. Wade releases his arm and lets him sink to the floor. Before Wade can walk away, a short, stout white man comes out, frantic and a little pissed off. “What the hell is going on here?!” bellows Jameson McNeil, the owner of the company. He spots Trayvon grasping his arm, tears flowing from his eyes to his chin. McNeil eyes Trayvon, before shifting over to observe Wade. “Wade. My office. Right fucking now.” McNeil walks back to his office, while Wade dusts himself off and follows. After passing over the threshold, Dylan shuts the door and turns to come face to red face with his boss. “Dylan Fucking Wade! I stuck my fucking neck out for you to get you this fucking job and this is how you fucking repay me?! You just took out one of the best works in this shit hole! Our quota is due on Monday! How the hell are we going to fill his hole before next week?!” Dylan’s face remains calm. “Look, Boss-” “Don’t you fucking cut me off! This is my turn to talk! Look at the trouble you caused?! Now I have to fill two holes and I don’t have the fucking resources to do this shit!” “Wait, back the fuck up. Two holes? You better tell me some other shithead got scared off and left his resignation on your desk when I wasn’t looking.” Dylan’s tone takes on one of annoyance, mixed with a bit of defensiveness. “No, Wade. You’re done. You’ve been here three fucking months, and you are more trouble than you’re worth. And that’s saying something cause you’re the best worker in this place! But you cost us more by putting our workers out, and I just can’t do that anymore. So I’m done. Get your shit, and get the fuck off of my property.” “Jameso-” “Get. Out.” Dylan decides quickly not to protest. He heads back to the workplace and gathers up the tools that he knows are his. He nods at a few of the co workers, the few that he had actually grown to at least tolerate. On his way out the door, he catches a glimpse of McNeil yelling at Trayvon as well. Normally, this would bring a smile to his lips, but not today. If his lips were to move at all, it would be to part, as though to scream “Fuck You” to the whole damn building. He walks back to his car. It isn’t much. A 2003 Ford Crown Victoria. He curses to himself as he stoops to get into the driver’s seat. This was his fourth job in the last 6 months. And he kept getting fired for the same reason: some little jealous fucker wants to complain and run his mouth. Surprisingly, Wade could keep his cool for three months. That’s longer than any of the others lasted. He turns the ignition and the car roars to life. He turns and pulls out of the lot, hopping onto the main roads of downtown LA. After a few twists and turns, he makes it home. Like his car, his house wasn’t much either. A one story, run down 2-bed-1-bath that they pay 176 a month for. Dylan parks his car and steps up onto the porch, then through the door. The smell of homemade pork roast hits his nose. “Baby! I’m home!” “I’m in the kitchen!” Wade walks a few feet down the hall and turns left into a large kitchen area. Standing at the stove is a petite Latina with long black hair that’s currently pulled up into a bun. She turns from the roast with a semi-concerned look. She can obviously sense that something is wrong. “Babe? What happened?” She steps away from stove and walks over to Dylan. She places a hand on his arm and they sit down together at the dinner table. “I got fired, love. Same shit as normal. Dude ran his mouth about you and I broke it.” “God, please tell me you didn’t actually break his jaw.” “No, of course not.” “Good.” “I broke his arm.” A cocky smile creeps across Dylan’s face. The young woman, his girlfriend of 3 years named Sabrina Morgan, `giggles a bit and hits his arm. Almost immediately, though, her mood turns serious yet again. “Babe, you can’t do that!! We barely have enough to pay the how the hell are we going to pay the rent?” Dylan looks at her, his face calm as ever, and smiles. “We’ll figure something out. Now, could you please go finish making dinner?” He smiles once again and kisses her softly on the lips. He rises from the chair, stretching. “I’m gonna go see what Mama’s up to.” “She’s in the living room, watching that wrestling pay-per-view thing. Genesis?” “Lazarus? Oh, I forgot that was tonight. I’ll go chill with her for a minute.” He walks out of the kitchen and continues down the hallway to the living room. The furniture is semi-nice. The TV is a 20-inch flat screen that Dylan bought last month when he had gotten a raise. In an arm chair across from the television was a woman, about 54 years of age. She sits there shouting at the screen. “YES! YOU GET BACK IN THAT RING YOU SKINNY ASS WHITE BOY!” Dylan chuckles and turns towards the screen. “Reid: Damian Kaine, the true heart of a champion. Wavedigger: With the head of an idiot. Jimmy: Damian Kaine still wants to fight. He still wants to defend his championship!” “Damn, that kid has guts. No brain, maybe. But guts.” Dylan crouches next to his mama and hugs her. “How was your day?” Ms. Wade smiles at her boy. “My day was good, baby. How was yours?” “I got fired. Again. For fighting. Again.” “What did them boys do this time?” “Dumbass called Brina a Spic and a Whore. That shit don’t fly with me and you know that, Mama.” “Did you kill ‘em?” “No, ma’am. Broke his arm, though.” “Then the racist twatwaffle got off lucky.” The two share a laugh. They continue on talking for a bit about random stuff. But Dylan’s mind stayed on his newfound unemployment. “What the hell am I going to do?! I wasn’t raised to back down. If I keep going back into this type of work, knowing that people will get jealous, then I’m glutton for punishment. Or a lawsuit. But I ain’t got a degree to do nothin’ else in this fucked up town.” “Well. If you’re looking for a way to earn money, and one that won’t fire you if you take out your anger on others. You could always sign up for wrestling.” Mama says. She laughs a bit to herself, but Dylan stays silent. That’s quite an idea… The wheels in Dylan’s head keep turning. He weighs the pros and cons of wrestling every night for two weeks. He realizes that it would take a lot of time away from his family. He would hate it, but he accepts that and decides to join. He looks online for applications and only finds the number to one Spencer Adams, they owner of the United Championship Infinite. Dylan pulls out his phone and dials. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ri- “Hello?” “Excuse me. Is this Spencer Adams?” “Yes, it is. Who the fuck is this?” “My name is Dylan Wade. I’m looking to apply to your company.” “Look. We have enough people who just join and flake out a week later. What’ll make you any different?” “What’ll make me different is the fact that I have nowhere else to turn. I need this. For more than one reason.” “Fine. Come to Iowa. We’ll get you training and get you gear. Maybe pick out some music. Now don’t bother me again.” *Click- Dial tone.* Dylan’s lips perked. He did it! *To Be Continued.*
Recorded via Samsung Galaxy S7, July 26, 2017 Dylan Wade is walking in what appears to be a public park in broad daylight. He has an ear-to-ear smile and his eyes are beaming, even through his dark sunglasses. “As most of you know, I accepted an open challenge to take part in the Hypermedia championship match next Monday at Summermania. God, that’s a stupid name… Summermania… Eh. Well, I digress. Yesterday, I spent my time shitposting memes to brutally murder the other 6 in the match, and ya know what? I failed. I’ll admit it. Zombie and Corey Black got the better of me. Maybe even Kaz Mazy, as well. But I’ll promise this: That has no indication of Monday night. “I mean. We’re running a gauntlet. Two people start, and another comes in after an elimination. Now, this all depends on who gets eliminated. And hell, it depends on who starts the match too. Let’s create some hypotheticals here. Let’s say I start out in the ring. Against… hmmm… L Verez, for example. Now, L’s a pretty decent athlete. I’ll give her that. But she’s not effective. She couldn’t pick up a win against Karlie fucking Nash, if that’s any indication. Yet she thinks she can hang around with names like Corey Black and Zombie McMorris. Bitch can barely hang with names like Damian Kaine and Alex Richards. It’s kinda sad, though, really. She’s trying. She’s a good person- err. Alien, thing. Whatever. She just doesn’t have it, yet. “So, I pin L. Easy peasy. I’d give it maybe a minute or two. Enough time for the clusterfuck in the back to decide who the next cat chow is. Low and behold, it’s the one and only Nova-Kaine. Nova, a name I’ve known for years. Always seemed like a pretty chill dude, even without the drugs. But in the ring, he’s nothing. At least, not anymore. Back in OWC, this dude was the fucking bomb. Flying off of everything and shit. He was the role model for the kids in bad places. He taught us that we could always get out and fight our way to the top. But then he fell just as fast. And he went MIA for so long. People started talking. News hoaxes ran rampant. ‘Wrestling Icon found dead in Wendy’s.’ It was a disaster. But the worst part is, Nova. You fucked up those kids that looked up to you. The word got around that hit the pipes. And the same shit went up right up their noses- or, should I say, OUR noses. Yes, NK. I was one of them. One of your loyal followers. Now, I won’t say you are the sole reason I took a turn for the worst, but losing an idol fucked me up. It’s why I stopped watching wrestling when I got clean. It used to remind me of that time. Then I heard word that you came back, and I watched again. Boy, do I regret that… “So, they throw Nova to the Pride. And we eat him alive too. Worse than that drug addiction did. So, who do they send out next? Let’s just say they send out Cairo Jr. Ol’ Kazward Mazy. Kaz, what you’ve done in your career is phenomenal. I mean, who else could make such a mediocre success story in a company full of crackheads and bear-loving sociopaths? You come out and you run your mouth. But you’ve had like one match since you came back to wrestling and you failed, ever so miserably. You let a Sunset Novelty team take those tag belts. Really, fam? Really? Dude, that’s fucking pathetic. And your choice for a partner isn’t any better. Why team with the one man in the business who lets everybody down? Y’know what we do back home when there’s a weak link? We take ‘em out ourselves. Cut ‘em, gut ‘em, and feed ‘em to the rats. Of course, back home, the people are douchebags. Followers who don’t question shit. And they don’t try to rise above their station. Which brings me back to Ol’ Kaz. Listen, fam. You’ve teamed with some all time greats. Bobby Cairo. You hung around with ZMac, if I remember correctly. These guys are fucking legends. And you mooch your career off of them. What do you have? A WCF United States title run? And a tag title run, which you won with Cairo? Dude, get a life, or find a new career. Enough said. “So, I kick Kaz out, and that’s when we get to the fun part. The Pantheon invasion of UCI. Of course, they’d send Jayson Price out first. But fuck it. Let’s put the gauntlet hypotheticals for a joke. So, here goes. There’s a car, going around a steep cliff on the side of a mountain while it’s raining. In this car is Jayson Price, Corey Black, and Zombie McMorris. Well, while driving, a deer hops across the side. Jayson, being the idiot he is, swerves, sending the car off of the cliff, landing in a fiery explosion of ‘THANK GOD THEY’RE DEAD!’ So, they’re at the gates of hell, because look at these fuckers. Well, Satan shows up and looks at them. Shaking his head, he tells them this: ‘Take off your pants. If the three sizes of y’all dicks measure up to 21 inches, I’ll let y’all back to Earth.’ And, they agree. Zombie pulls down his jeans and his Smurfette underwear to reveal a good ol’ 11 inches. ‘Off to a good start,” the Devil says. Corey’s next. He pulls out his dick to reveal 8 inches. He smiles, and the devil looks nervous, ‘Y’all are at 18 now. You’re close.’ He looks at Jayson, who stands shivering. He reluctantly removes his pants, revealing 3 inches. “11+8+3=21. “The Devil lets out a sign and snaps his fingers, returning them to the side of the road near where they crashed. They all start laughing. Zombie says ‘You fgts are lucky I had 11 inches.’ Corey says ‘Fuck that. Y’all are lucky I had my 8.’ Jayson responds, quietly, shaking. ‘Y’all are fucking lucky I was hard.’ “That’s the story of your career, isn’t it Price? You always come up short. Shit, you couldn’t beat Torture without Seth changing the decision many years later. It’s ridiculous. “But enough with that irrelevant asshole. Let’s get to the big dogs, shall we? Corey Black. A breathing legend. At least, I think he’s breathing. At his age, he may have just stopped. Eh, he may as well have. It’d be better than what he’s going to have to endure on Monday. Hell, that’s if his old ass can even make it to Monday. I mean, that fgt has to face fucking Frank Venable. THEN he gets to have his ass beat by the Wildcat. Poor dude. I guess Spencer and Seth want to put him out of our- err I mean his misery. I mean, you’re going out, soon, right Corey? I thought the point of this tour was to give yourself one last shot at gold. Not to completely fucking destroy what little career you still had left after booking it after Mexico. But I guess this is what you want. So I’ll use the same ol’ analogy here. I’m gon take this ol’ dog right there. I’m gonna drag his feeble-boned ass out behind the barn. But I ain’t gonna grab no twelve gauge. I’m gonna pull out my 45 and plant two bullets right in this nigga’s skull. “And that’s just him. I still have to worry about the champ. Zombie McMorris. Shit, man. I’m black, and my daddy’s still around… Poor Crow. But, nah, fam. You a beast. I’ll admit it. You’ve torn apart every opponent you’ve stepped into the ring with. “Or, almost everyone. “Now, you’re going to keep flaunting that undefeated streak, and it’s cute. But we all know damn well that you haven’t won every match you’ve been in here. You let some fucking luchadore bring you to a tie? Really, nigga? Yeah, you may undefeated. But there’s always going to be that asterisk. “Oh, and speaking of that little undefeated streak. Yeah, after Monday? It’s done. Fuckin’ finito, fam. Spencer can slap me in that number one spot, or he can put me last. I don’t give a flying fuck. I’m walking out with the Hypermedia gold. And I’ll walk out with that TV championship, too. Just to add insult to injury. “You see, I know you don’t know me. I’m new. But I won’t need that as an advantage. Not against you six. I’ve faced tougher people. I’ve been cut, broken, bruised, bloodied. I’ve been through overdoses and shoot ups. This shit ain’t new to me, nigga. So, before you say ‘Ah, this nigga ain’t gonna do shit,’ let me tell you this. I won’t go down easy at all. Why? Because I am the fucking wildcat. Deuces, Bitches.” Feed cuts. |
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