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Post by Danny on Sept 24, 2021 15:34:38 GMT -6
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Post by Fauche on Sept 25, 2021 13:15:23 GMT -6
P U N KOne letter at a time, the tiantron ignites with reigning, defending UWF Champion's name. It's a name that had been relegated to the footnotes of the history books less than a year ago. Written off, dismissed - an answer to a handful of trivia questions. Never to be listed among the best, never to be counted among the greats, never to scratch the surface of the stone elevation of the proverbial Mount Rushmore. And now, somehow, the name associated with reinvention, revitalization and retaliation. It's the name of a man who walked into and out Wrestlemania wearing gold. It's the name of the only man to win the UWF's G1 Climax twice. It's the name that replaced an unstoppable monster's atop the marquee.
CM Punk marches purposefully out on to the ramp, strobe lights blaring behind him. One instant, he's a shadow silhouetted against a blinding backdrop, and the next, he's standing there clear as day, focused, determined and dangerous. The Second City Saint doesn't linger there long before coming down to the ring. Samoa Joe follows just behind him, a constant reminder that there's no easy angle when you're coming at the Champ.
Picking up some microphones left for them on the steps, Punk and Joe climb into the squared circle. Just at the chorus of "Digging for Windows" hits the PA, the Straight Edge Superstar takes a stand in the center of the ring, with the Submission Machine standing stoically nearby. In time, the roaring crowd quiets down, the music cuts out, and Punk kicks things off.Punk: You know that old saying "hindsight is twenty-twenty"? He looks around at the anonymous, murmuring faces filling the arena. It's a rhetorical question, but Brooks gives them some time to chew on it.Punk: It's right up there with "respect your elders" when it comes to that conventional wisdom of acknowledging the benefits of the passage of time. Man... that shit used to drive me crazy. Hearing from my parents or my teachers when I was growing up, or having it thrown in my face as a catch-all explanation for why I should shut up and do as I'm told. It was worse than ever when I broke into this sport, too. All those unwritten locker room codes. They told me that I hadn't paid enough dues to have opinions - that I needed to keep my mouth closed and listen to what these old men thought was best.
I'm not gonna tell you that they were always right, and you already know that I didn't always do what I was expected of me. Funny thing is, now I'm the salty veteran who's been around the block a dozen times, standing back and watching these kids make all these obvious mistakes, just shaking my head. I never thought I'd be this, I never wanted to be this, but here I am, in the spot I earned making judgment calls on the brats trying to take it from me. Punk: This pay-per-view is called "Badd Blood". It's a cool sounding name that some marketing team came up with a long time ago and it's tough and it's mean so it sticks. Even when, at least as far as this main event is concerned, it doesn't really apply. Now I mentioned this in that press conference the other day, but I don't have much ill will for Tom Lawlor or Chael Sonnen. This isn't personal. It's not a grudge match, there's nothing more at stake here than my UWF Championship - the physical representation of my claim to being the Best in the World. So you wanna talk about "Badd Blood"... nah. The only blood you're gonna see, good bad or otherwise, might be when I crack my knee into Tom's nose right before I pin him.
And I'm not just tossing around idle, meatheaded threats here. I think a little bit of color would do Lawlor some good. Cause for a guy named "Filthy" Tom, he hasn't really gotten his hands dirty yet, has he? Here's that grizzled old man coming out now - grandpa in his rocking chair is at it again. Let's face it, though, you can't honestly praise this guy for his meteoric rise to the main event since debuting two months back without bringing up that he hasn't racked up much of a resume. The entirety of the rest of my career not withstanding, look what I had to do this year before they let me near Bray Wyatt? On of us earned their spot, the other was in the right place, at the right time. And shit, it's not like I expect Tom to come out here and say how grateful or unworthy he is for the opportunity. Good for him for making the most of it. But he's gonna find out real quick that we're operating in entirely different categories.The Champ taps his temple knowingly.Punk: Hindsight. I get his headspace. I've been there... going into my first big title match, totally bought and sold on my own hype. Even when you're just marginally aware of all the factors working against you - like I was when I jumped over to the UFC. Walking out to the octagon, I was still letting myself believe that I had done enough to be ready for that moment. Then reality hit like a god damn dump truck, and wouldn't you know it, they had to put that thing in reverse and run over me again before I learned my lesson. That's the perk of being the old guy, though - I've lived through a loooooooooot of lessons. Tom's still got some to figure out, but when it comes to us knuckle-dragging prize fighters, its education in the school of hard knocks. It takes some time to sink in, probably cause of the thick skulls I guess.
Tom Lawlor is younger than me. He's in better shape than me. He's got a Machiavellian genius in his corner. Odds are he's gonna come out here and tell you about how much winning he's done to prove to himself that he's the guy to beat me. Thing is, I've done some winning myself... but it's the losing that brought me where I am today. Getting my ass kicked out of the UFC, having my life torn apart in 2016, being fired from this company more times than I can count. Still standing. I'm not ashamed of what it took to make me the Best in the fucking World.
The bad news, Tom, is that the thing you need most to understand how to beat someone like me is the one thing you don't have. The good news is I'm going to give it to you. Until you know what its like to lose everything in the most important moment of your career, you'll never fight as hard as you can to make sure it doesn't happen again. I didn't knock off the most dominant Champ in Revolution history to pass this thing to the next guy in line like a hot potato. I'm reigning. I'm defending. I'm the UWF Champion and Tom... I'm gonna cut you down. Lowering his mic, Punk stands back and next to Joe while they await the arrival of the Number One Contender.
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Sam
Main Eventer
Posts: 223
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Post by Sam on Sept 26, 2021 4:20:59 GMT -6
Just look at me...
The piano sounds and is met with loud groans from the audience who all turn their attention to the entrance way. Out first walk Sylvan, Simon Dean and Maryse and they are soon followed by their leader, Rob Conway who is met with a chorus of boos. Conway doesn't seem to care at all as he laughs it off and begins to strut his stuff on his way to ringside. 'The Conman' poses for the crowd half way down the ramp as his associates gawk and marvel at his physique. Conway then continues down the ramp singing along to his theme song as the crowd wish they could be anywhere else. All four members of The Contourage enter the ring with Conway taking time to lean over the top rope and raise a single finger high into the air as if to proclaim himself number one in the whole world - at least in his mind. Conway is then handed a microphone where he begins to speak.
Rob Conway: Ordinarily 'The Conman' would come down to this ring and he would list off the reasons why he is the number one superstar in the UWF today. Why he should be in the number one contendership spot to the UWF title and why he should be in the main event each and every night... and tonight is no different!. Look at the physique - crafted in iron by the single greatest trainer and sports nutrition expert in the world today, Mister Simon Dean. Look at the sunglasses, the tights, the hair, the beard... all methodical... all chosen to make 'The Conman' look like he should by the world's leading image consultant and fashion advisor, the one and only - Sylvan!. And then there's the lady who arranges all of Rob Conway's business so he can be the single most focused star in the UWF today. The woman who puts 'The Conman' on the buildings in Time Square, Beijing, Tokyo, Berlin and London, my business manager, the lovely Maryse. I mean, look at this group right here. It's not just Rob Conway who brings star quality, it's not just Rob Conway who is the very best at what he does and who should be fighting CM Punk for the UWF Championship and in every main event every single damn night. But look at the group, Maryse - star, Sylvan - star and Simon Dean?, you guessed it - star. This group right here is the single most must see and exciting entity going in the wrestling business today which begs the question... why is it being weighed down by the coattail riding little boy known as Buddy Murphy and his couple of skanks Billy Kay and Sonya Deville?
The crowd boo loudly, not exactly a fan of either group.
I mean look at them, Buddy Murphy calls himself the 'WMD', a weapon of mass destruction but let's face it, there's no mass to Buddy Murphy. He's 200 pounds soaking wet with a brick tied to both feet. Did you see the bodybuilding contest? - it was a joke. Three of the greatest bodies associated with this industry and the bodybuilding industry and he comes up there looking like a shaved cat. And as far as destruction goes?, the only thing being destroyed by Buddy Murphy is his own credibility - which is already lacking - when he comes to ride the coattails of the fastest rising name in the UWF today, Rob Conway. I mean where did this guy come from?, forget the land down under, this guy came from the land before time with his prehistoric style and his caveman jibes at 'The Conman'. But I get it, little Buddy and his little group probably sit backstage and when they take a break from whatever losers like them do, they look up and they see a real star, Rob Conway, on Revolution each and every week racking up wins like a fat kid eating candy. AJ Styles, Rey Mysterio, Bray Wyatt, Drew McIntyre, Seth Rollins, Tom Lawlor - the list goes on and Buddy Murphy probably sits backstage and he thinks - boy I'd like to be just like him... but guess what, he can't, he won't, and he'll never be Rob Conway, so out of sheer jealousy, out of sheer green envy Buddy Murphy attacks 'The Conman' when he's displaying his incredible physique to the world and he picks a fight he can't win for the publicity, for the notoriety. And well done kid, because now you've gone and done it, you've got your name on the marquee at Bad Blood next to not only 'The Conman' but the entire Contourage in the biggest match of your career.
Conway turns to look at his crew and marvels.
I mean do you really think two little women like Billy Kay and Sonya Deville can step to Sylvan, Simon or Maryse?. I mean be serious, I get that the education system in Australia isn't that great and you probably have the mental capacity of your national animal the Koala bear but let's face facts there is absolutely no way, no chance, no possibility that you and your group beats The Contourage. So we're treating this match as something of an exhibition. Sure, 'The Conman' will take great pleasure in beating you up for the way you jumped him at the bodybuilding contest but he'll also take great pleasure in showing the whole world that The Contourage isn't just Rob Conway and some guys. They aren't just valets. They are some of the most talented stars in their fields and also between those three ropes. We're going to pick you all apart Buddy, we're going to make an example of all of you and we're going to do it the only way we know how... not the right way, not the wrong way... but the CON... WAY.
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Post by gunn on Sept 27, 2021 15:51:26 GMT -6
They are Lost by Last Remaining Pinnacle blasts over the speaker, the crowd once again begins to boo, the man who may be the most vilified person in the UWF right now, Tommaso Ciampa, walks down to the ring, the chorus of boos not stopping the whole time. As Ciampa gets to the ring he walks up the stairs and cracks his neck. Stepping through the ropes he doesn’t even ask for a mic, pulling one from his coat pocket.
Ciampa: Ladies and Gentlemen i’d like to cordially invite you all to a special event at Bad Blood, the death of Warhorse, well the death of his career at least. At Bad Blood I take the one thing Warhorse cares about and grind it into dust right in front of him and the thing is, I am going to do it with your people’s help, remember fans bring the weapons.
The crowd boos Ciampa, who despite not changing his facial expression seems to be enjoying the reaction he is getting from the crowd.
Ciampa: You see when I attacked Warhorse all those weeks ago, it wasn’t anything personal, no I was just using him to send a message but he made it personal by not staying down, every week he’d come back and be bandaged up and still fighting, each week would be worse than the other but he kept grinding to come back, he would fight till he dropped dead and thats what attracts you people to him. You see part of yourselves in him, that rebellious spark in him that refuses to do, I should know, I had that spark in me a short while ago and it earned the love of you people but then I learned something that I hope you learn quickly Warhorse: that love is fickle.
Ciampa takes his coat off and hangs it on the ropes revealing that once again he has the #PrayforWarhorse shirt on.
Ciampa: You see Warhorse, as soon as you do something these worthless idiots don’t like then they’ll turn on you like me, I changed because I had too and the sooner you change the better but that’s the thing, you won’t change. You live off their cheers because it validates you, because nothing else in your life does but don’t worry at Bad Blood i’m going to validate your existence and these people, the people who claim to love you and see themselves in you will help me, i’m going to use whatever toys they bless us with to beat you down until you’re nothing but a quivering mess and maybe then i’ll give you a merciful end but I wouldn’t count on it if i’m honest pal, that leg of yours is hanging on by a thread and its prime for the taking.
Ciampa lowers his mic and waits for a response.
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Post by ultrainstinct on Sept 30, 2021 17:02:20 GMT -6
Bright yellow spotlights begin to shine throughout the arena immediately garnering the attention of every fan in the building. The lights begin to twinkle and move throughout the arena before fixating the at top of the ramp and changing to a blue tint. The arena then goes dark as the music continues to blare loudly from the Speakers. Suddenly, fire pyro shoots from the top of the rap ala Kane. The spotlights return, a blue tint once more, shining all throughout the arena before returning to the head of the ramp once more. Without further ado, The Architect, Seth Rollins steps out from behind the curtains with his arms extending outwards by his sides. The Intercontinental Championship is firmly strapped around his waist and the brand new champion makes his way from the backstage arena with an extremely smug and arrogant aura. He smacks the title one good time to make sure that all eyes are on the belt before continuing down to the ring. The one and only Paul Heyman, bald head, and all, appears from the backstage area as well following Seth, rubbing his hands and wearing a self-approving look on his face as well.
The fans show their disapproval for the duo by launching incredibly loud boo's in unison that would register on the Richter scale. Seth walks down the ramp, slowly and methodically, his theme music exiting the speakers and entering the atmosphere, making it seem as if a real-life God like figure has just entered everyone’s presence. Seth finally makes his way to the ring, steps up the stairs and enters the ring with his manager behind him. Seth goes to one of the sides of the ropes facing the fans and puts a leg on the second rope, and he hoists the Intercontinental Championship up over his head with one hand. Seth screams at the top of lungs while boasting the title to as if to remind everyone exactly who he is. The fans react with an even louder negative reaction. Seth Rollins: It takes nine months to birth a child and approximately 18 years to raise them. It takes thirteen years to graduate from grade school and four additional years to get a degree. You can drive a motorized vehicle at the age of sixteen if you have a license, which takes about a year to get. Depending on your studies, getting a master’s degree can take anywhere from two to five additional years. That’s just to put time into the perspective of everyone’s mind. Now that I’ve caught you up to speed, let’s look at the man of the hour: Eddie Kingston.Seth pauses so that his challenger can here every single word that he has to say about him. It took him twenty years to be slightly above average at his job. It took him twenty years to learn the basics; it took him twenty years to stop pissing all over his own pants. It took him twenty years to be able to find a toilet himself, it took him twenty years to finally be able to feed himself. It took him twenty years to learn how to read, and it took him twenty years to graduate high school. Eddie Kingston isn’t a man that people should strive to be like. Eddie Kingston is a man that everyone should avoid being like at all costs. Eddie is a man that relishes in the sympathy that everyone provides for constantly coming up short in his endeavors. Eddie is a man that should be God fearing; but he’s not bright enough to even know what he should even be fearing. The fans boo at the arrogance that is permeating from the pores of Seth Rollins, but the man doesn’t care. He smirks and continues on. In one short week, Eddie is going to take his grimy, ashy little hands and try to pry away my championship; and he will fail. Bad Blood is going to mirror your twenty years of failure in a way that you’re going to finally shut the hell up about it! Your pathetic pity party is going to come crashing to an end. Your undefeated streak is going to cease to exist and your will to compete is going to be shattered. The only way you’re going to be able to walk out of the arena on your own two feet is if I let you and I don’t plan on being a kind generous man on that night. I plan on being a ruthless barbarian and showing you how I acquired this title belt in the first place. Since you seem to have forgotten exactly who I am, I won’t hesitate to remind you of just how inferior you truly are when you compare yourself to the Messiah of this company. It’s only been a few short weeks since I single handedly stole Bray’s powers and put him six feet under. Soon I get to shatter a broken record and crush an undefeated streak in the same night, and I can’t wait for the opportunity to put the self-proclaimed mad king in his spot. Eddie is just a few short moments away from bringing his lethargic ass out and flapping out the gums about how he’s better then me and how he deserves this. Truth be told it would make for a nice little story. But this is real life and, there isn’t always a happy ending for the under-dog. And I can assure you, your mental health won’t be the only thing ailing you after our match. At Bad blood, I’m removing the training wheels off of your UWF career and getting your career by the handles and steering it straight into a ditch for my first title defense. Seth lowers his microphone and waits for Eddie to come forth.
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Post by ada2 on Oct 1, 2021 6:29:11 GMT -6
Cold War would blast out of the sound speakers as the challenge would walk out onto the stage. The mad king had arrived, he was here, he was at bad blood and he was ready to finish his twenty-year journey to championship success. There was only one more roadblock in his way, only one more obstacle standing before him and it was Seth Rollins. There was a small grin on his face as he stared down at the ring at the man holding the championship he had promised to win no matter the cost to his own body as the mad king walked forward, walking down to the ring as he would reach the bottom of the ramp, all the while just staring right through Seth Rollins as he would roll into the ring and stand before the man he was set to face for the championship.
“Twenty years Seth. Your right it is a hell of a long time. Your right to stand here and make light of it. you got every damn right in the world to hold your nose up, because twenty years – it is not something most men could do. Twenty long hard years doing this thing of ours, not an easy thing to do. I don’t have a flashy car like you. I don’t have mansions all across the coastline, I don’t have a wife who is just as famous as you are and I don’t have the honour of having a child like you do Seth. You have it all, the fame and the fortune that comes with this thing, but you don’t have passion. You lost that a long time ago Seth. You lost the drive, you lost the need to push yourself and you became like so many others. It became all about the money for you and it is a shame, because let me tell you this, I would give my right arm to be standing in the ring right now with Tyler Black, a man that knew the love and joy of this thing of ours, but what I got was you – what I got – was Seth Rollins.”
The mad king stood there and looked the man before him up and down and it was not even hidden, he didn’t even try to hide his disgust for the man before him. There was a small shake of the head as well as he just stared at the man he needed to go through tonight to take hold of the championship he has been chasing for twenty years.
“You have had it easy here Seth. We both know that everything has been handed to you. Everything you have done here, it has just been placed in your lap. I have not seen you try, I have not seen you go beyond average and why the heck not – you don’t have to. Your Seth Rollins right? The man who has done it all, won it all – but there is one thing you ain’t done Seth and that is defeat me. I am not a man to brag, but we both know that I am undefeated. We both know that I have smashed through everyone that has stepped in my way for me to get to this moment. Everyone I have hurt, everyone I have crippled, everyone that I have ended, it has all been for you. Everything I have done here is to get to you, to get this match, to stand here before over twenty thousand people and know that I have finally made it. That feeling – it is dull for you, it is gone for you. For you this is just another night, just another job, just another performance, easy money in your eyes. But for me, this is everything Seth. This is everything I have worked for, all those men I have beaten, all those people I have taken out, it is for this match against you. It is for this moment, when I take everything from you.”
He remained where he was, he remained still as he just stared at the champion. His eyes never leaving Seth Rollins eyes. He just stayed there and kept still. This was what he had worked for, this was what he had wanted, this was twenty years in the making and it was going to enjoy every single moment of his hard work, because it was finally paying off for him at long last.
“Seth, if you’re the fucking Messiah – then I am the mother fucking devil, because your preaching some serious bullshit. Your nothing to someone like me. You don’t have a fucking clue who I am, you don’t know what it is like to have nothing. You don’t know what it is like to have every single door slammed in your face, no – the doors where opened for you, the red carpet rolled out for you. Your what they want, a create a fucking wrestler. You bring that up and you get the image of you. The right look, the right height, the right body, the right basic ass shit moveset as well. Carbon copy and ready to ship to the masses. You sold out Seth – so don’t stand there and act like your better than me, don’t stand there and think for a single second that you know me or you know what I am willing to do to someone like you, because your right, one day my undefeated streak will end. One day I will step into the ring with someone that much better than me, someone who wants this more than me, someone who can go the distance and take me down, but Seth – tonight is not the night that happens, because you’re not the man to defeat me.”
He stepped a little bit closer to Seth Rollins as he was almost face to face with him now, his hand raised now as his index finger was extended outwards as he pointed right at the current reigning champion.
“You want to talk about men we have beaten. You got my sloppy seconds little man. I slapped Bray Wyatt around so hard he was never the same again. I took CM Punk on and I showed him that he was the best in the world in name only – you’re looking at the best in the world right here Seth. Your looking at what a wrestler really is. It is not all about the looks, it is not all about the height, it is not all about the shit the entertainment machine says it is. It is about how hard you want this. It is about how much you are willing to give up. It is about what you are willing to do to get what you want. Seth I really think you ain’t thought this through, because you have more to lose than me. You got the fame, you got the fortune, you for the family – you got it all and that means you can lose it all. Me, I got nothing, I got no one. I only got myself and for the last twenty years it has been enough for me and tonight let me tell you – it is going to be more than enough because I look at you Seth, and I see a paper champion and nothing more and I am going to cut right through you. No resurrection, no comeback, no nothing. Your reign ends tonight and mine begins. Tonight, you lose everything you have built for yourself, the house that Seth built, you built it on fucking sand you dick and it all comes crashing down. It is my time tonight Seth, twenty years and it all ends with me backfisting you down to the mat and taking my title from you.”
He would lower the microphone down for a moment as he would just stare at the man before him. Twenty years and it was all to this moment, it was all for Seth Rollins, it was all to finally become a champion and know that he made it.
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Post by George on Oct 3, 2021 14:40:51 GMT -6
The bewildering sounds of "Raining Blood" blast through the PA, with the wailing distortion echoing through our ears. The spooky sounds continue to flow, until we peak up and then we hit the strong, driving riff coming through the speakers, Warhorse walks through the curtain, standing off with menacing headbangs with a strong grip with microphone in hand. The Warhorse sympathisers in the crowd bang their heads with ultra enthusiasm through the whole of the first two verses, as well as the MAJORITY Slayer fans. The Warhorse finishes up swaying up at the top of the ramp, and then starts walking down the ramp with bold brash spirit. He slides up onto the apron, climbing right through the ropes, and standing in the middle of the ring as we hit the chorus: RAINING BLOOD, FROM A LACERATED SKY, BLEEDING IT'S HORROR, CREATING MY STRUCTURE, NOW I SHALL REIGN IN BLOOD.The Warhorse headbangs as we get a bewildering Kerry King guitar solo, a true assault to the senses. As the song fades, the Warhorse walks around and starts circling as his loyal fanbase cheers him on. He swings up the microphone to his mouth, looking off bitterly at Tomasso Ciampa. WARHORSE: IT SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING EVERYONE WHO STEPS INTO THE RING WITH ME WANTS TO FOLLOW THROUGH WITH, TO KILL THE WARHORSE. I’M NOT SURPRISED YOU TOOK TO THAT JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE TOMASSO. THE REAL QUESTION OF IT ALL IS WHY THE HELL DOES TOMASSO CIAMPA WANT TO KILL ME? WHY DOES CIAMPA WANT TO RACK UP A CRIMINAL RECORD AND MAKE IT HARDER FOR THE UWF TO INTERNATIONALLY TRAVEL WITH HIM?
IT BEATS ME MAN, FOR DAMN SURE I’D BE CERTAIN THAT EVERYTHING THAT HAS HAPPENED BETWEEN YOU AND I HAS BEEN OUT OF YOUR SPITE, THE TYPE OF SPITE A MAN RACKS UP WHEN A MAN DRIZZLES A SHIT DOWN YOUR LEG. NOW LET ME SEE IF I MISSED ANYTHING. OUR FIRST INTERACTION IS YOU COSTING ME A CHAMPIONSHIP OPPORTUNITY, THEN YOU GO AND ATTACK ME AGAIN, AND ALL WITHOUT A DAMN WORD OF WHY. I’D ASK YOU NOW BUT FRANKLY, I DON’T CARE. I DON’T CARE AND I FEEL LIKE I’VE GOT A HUNCH OF IT.The Warhorse paces back and looks up and down at this miserable excuse of a man. EVERYTIME I WALK ON AND SUCCEED A PART OF YOU DIES BECAUSE YOU CAN’T ENJOY A DAMN THING YOU HAVE IN THE MOMENT. I TAKE IT ALL AS IT COMES, YOU DON’T SEE ME WHINING ABOUT GETTING ANOTHER SHOT AT PUNK’S BELT, I WOULDN’T DO THAT. YOU DON’T SEE ME SPITTING ON ROB CONWAY’S FEET FOR EXISTING. SO I’LL ASK YOU DIRECTLY, AND AGAIN, WHAT DRIVES YOU TO BE SUCH AN ASS TO THE WARHORSE?
I’VE FOUGHT FOR EVERYTHING THAT’S CAME MY WAY WITH ALL THE SPIRIT THAT I HAVE IN MY SOUL, I DON’T RAKE IT IN. I DON’T GO 50. 100 IS THE GAME, AND 110 IS WHAT I’M STEAMING AHEAD AT IT WITH. TOMASSO CIAMPA, YOU DON’T GIVE IT 25, OTHERWISE YOU WOULDN’T BE GROVELING AT MY ANKLES FOR A REPERCUSSION. YOU’D BE HOLDING THE BIG BELT IF YOU WERE AS MUCH AS YOU TALK, SO WHY AREN’T YOU? ARE YOU A BIG FAT, STUPID POSER? I’D SUSPECT SO.
ALL TALK AND NO GAIN. NOT EVEN THE DESIRE TO GAIN, FRANKLY. NOBODY NEEDS TO PRAY FOR ME BECAUSE I STAND ACROSS FROM A KID WHO STAGE DIVES AT IMAGINE DRAGONS SHOWS.The fans react accordingly to not only that dig at Tomasso Ciampa, but at the very lowly respected “rock” band, “Imagine Dragons”. TELL ME I’M WRONG, I’M SURE THAT’LL ADD MORE TALK ON THAT NEVER ENDING PILE OF YOURS.The Warhorse lowers his microphone and eagerly awaits a response from Ciampa.
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Post by underclass on Oct 3, 2021 16:29:14 GMT -6
The lights cut to black. The cameras of the fans begin to surface and scan over the arena to little avail. It was then a legendary voice would ignite over the P.A tron. What followed was pure electricity.
IT'S TIIIIIIIIIIIME!
The crowd would absolutely pop for the legendary voice of Bruce Buffer. The lights would slowly fade to black once more. Smoke would come across the base of the entrance ramp, before being met with some general pyro. If it was a big feel moment, this was it! The sudden arrival of Chael Sonnen was met by another swift pop as he stands upon the entrance ramp. Swiftly following behind him was a few extras sporting "Team Filthy" jackets. They lower their heads before forming a line -- In unison, the group of pretend fighters begin to exchange fake blows with one another. Chael continues his epic walk down the entrance ramp, before lowering his head at the base of the ramps decline. Darkness once more. A countdown would suffice over the arena.
5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
The epic sound of Wolfgang Van Halen could signal one thing, and one thing only -- The arrival of the challenger. Out would walk Lawlor as the crowd would chant in collective of the chrous of his now infamous entrance theme. sending perhaps a direct message to the UWF Champion, CM Punk:
DON'T BACK DOWN! Just don't back down... DON'T BACK DOWN! Just don't back down...
This would allow a smile to slide across the face of Lawlor as he nodded his head in approval, before making his way alongside his partner, and good friend, Chael Sonnen. The lights would flicker once more, before finally fading out as both Chael and Lawlor engage in a glare at the duo of Samoa Joe, and CM Punk. It isn't long as Chael reaches into his pocket to pull out a microphone. In a shocking twist, it isn't Chael who opens the rebuttal, but Lawlor himself.
Lawlor: Don't worry, Chael -- I've been waiting for this one. This one's on me. First things first, how's that neck holding up, Joe? I couldn't quite take another moment of staring at your mug. Especially since we've been labeled as a friend contest -- I felt, why not up the ante? Add a little flare to this match. This is the match of the big dogs, right? It's where survival of the fittest is at it's peak. This is badd blood. And if me choking the hell out of Joe wasn't enough of a catalyst to share some animosity then I don't know what is.
After all, consider that a receipt for the way Joe attempted to make an example out of Chael a few weeks back. I didn't take too kindly to your boy running his mouth, and to be quite frankly -- I'd love to personally choke his ass out again. I didn't break a sweat before, and I'd put nickles to dimes that your boy's chance at survival is about as likely as Chad Gable standin' after a stiff lariat from yours truly. But look -- This isn't about Samoa Joe, and Tom Lawlor. The beef between Uncle Chael, and Joe? It isn't about 'em either -- This is between the big dogs. The two men of the hour. Your main event of the evening. CM Punk, and Tom fucking Lawlor.
Sneering with confidence, a smile slides from ear to ear. Rolling his tongue in cheek, Lawlor would begin to pace back and forth.
Lawlor: Let's circle back to the very thing you started the night off with. Hindsight is in fact twenty-twenty. It's those things we as collective people see on a whim. It's collective however, as our viewpoints differ on the circumstance. Your hindsight has you standing there as you put it -- "A salty vet", where collectively I don't see a vet. I see a man captivated by his own rise. Recapturing the moments that people thought was gone -- Never to be seen again. I see a man trying so desperately to hold onto his past, that he uses analogies to subdue our thought processes. It's funny, because once upon a time -- I would have taken a bite at that bit, Punk. I'd believe you actually felt that way about yourself. That you're just a vet, just worrying about brats taking things from you.
It's rather funny, because in your context you're referring to Tom Lawlor as a brat. You're referring to the fastest rising talent in UWF history as a brat. You then use that exact resume you crafted to make it look like I didn't DESERVE this chance. The very people looked at as possible challengers were laid before me -- WARHORSE, and Rob Conway both. You call it being at the right place, at the right time. Of course you do. I call it honoring my craft, and excelling at the highest level. You fail to realize that I didn't come to this company to immediately be thrown a golden spoon my direction -- Say what you want, but I earned that bit. I earned the respect of those boys in the back, not because I had a few fluke wins, but because when obstacles were placed in front of me -- I knocked each, and everyone of those sons of bitches into next week.
Tongue in his cheek, Lawlor shook his head in disgust. A casual smirk would slide across his face as Chael would lift up his microphone. Lawlor would hold his hand up, as Chael would nod his head.
Lawlor: Like I said, Chael -- I've got this. This isn't the typical joke fest. This isn't a moment for us to have a laugh at our expenses. I'm not going to laugh at you, nor do I expect you to laugh at me. The thing is this, Punk -- We both enter this match with something to prove. You've got this desire to overcome those demons of yours. Those past problems. To really show that you're still the best in the world. As a challenger, I've got a lot of crap on my shoulders. I've got targets on my back just because of how fast I rose to the occasion. The thing is, I'm not going to back down from that challenges. I'm not going to back, because when I walk from behind that curtain -- I hear those people talkin', Punk. I hear those people chantin', Punk. You heard it. Wolfgang was jamming, and those people were beggin' for you to not back down. And it's not a single hook of a theme that symbolizes what's in store for this match-- It's the result. 'Cause I look into your eyes, and I don't see a man short of confidence. I don't see a man set on fear. That press conference, I felt something a little off with you, Punk. I felt a little bit of worry, but standing across from you now -- I don't get that vibe. I don't get that same under lying fear you had. Perhaps it was a snap decision to come out here, and save face -- Or personally, I actually believe in your confidence. I believe in the words you say.
Unfortunately for you, Punk -- All those words are broken promises, and simply bounced checks. You keep writing all these things your ass can't cash, and it's ultimately my hands who's going to expose that. It's my hands that will captivate your confidence with your untimely demise. I stare at the adversity of being a trained fighter turned wrestler, and I observe all the broken threats, and all the broken words that were placed on my shoulders. I've heard it from men just like you, Punk -- I've seen the same confidence. I've seen the same stares, and yet? Not a single one held a prize as memorable as the one you've got on your shoulder. But with that prize, comes a much bigger target. The one I have, huge as it may be -- Pales in comparison to the target on your back. As I sit here, I stand with the weight of the world on my shoulders, but I've lifted this world time, and time again -- I've been the man to beat. Victory after victory -- I stood by my word. Those promises laid forth by Uncle Chael? They came to reality. But yes, Punk -- You are reigning. You are defending. But when the fat lady sings -- You'll be the former UWF champion of the world. You can go toe to toe with the best. Because your not good enough, Punk. Keep telling yourself that you're going to cut me down. Keep looking to change the pace of this match in your favor, because only words hold precedent over reality. Those words you slay have open delusion -- Not one of success, but embarrassment. For when that bell rings, and it's official -- I pray, Punk. I pray this confidence is real. I pray you're adaptability shows. I pray that you're an ideal threat. I pray you're man enough to give me a fight. I pray you can survive. Because when push comes to shove -- It isn't about cutting me down. It isn't about cutting you down. It's about survivability. In this world, it's survival of the fittest. It's a dog eat, dog world -- You know the deal. You're all bark, where as I stand with the biggest bite of 'em all. Doubt me, Punk. Stand and deliver. I pray for your own stupidity. As I'm going to break you in half, Punk. I'm going to break you limb from limb. I'm going to knock the ever living shit out of you.
Lawlor would lower his microphone taking a step back to Chael as the duo would look over at Punk and Joe respectfully.
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Post by Tapout on Oct 3, 2021 19:15:36 GMT -6
The scene opens on the dark warehouse like building where a few flood lights provide a small amount of light. In front of the ring cloaked in shadows is Chad Gable. His expression is cold, and serious. The Television championship rest on the apron of the ring behind him, the light catching it in various spots, making the gold shine.
Chad Gable Welcome...to the Alpha Academy. This is a place that Randy, you've been to before. This isn't the first time that you and I have stood in this sacred battleground behind me and locked horns. But that Chad Gable? The one that tried to save you. The one who tried to bring you back to your former glory? That Chad Gable is dead. The man that stands in this ring with you this time is a new breed entirely. This man has walked through Hell and saw the other side. This man has unlocked the full power of the Alpha Academy. This is my Final Form, Randy. Now I don't care about making you better Randy. I don't care about making you the man you used to be anymore Randy. All I care about is making you bleed. Making you scream. Making you cry. Offering your body as a sacrifice to this ring. This world is made only for the Alphas and if you can't keep up, you die. That is it. That's all there is to it. The strong will rise and the weak will die. So Randy.. are you Alpha or not? Because in these 4 ropes there is no place to hide. There are no secrets. It will expose the liars and the fakes from the true warriors.
I want you to think long and hard before you decide to step into this ring with me. This is more than just a match. This is more than just a title match. This is a war and with any war there is one winner and one loser and history is written by the victor. This ring knows our past and it decides our future. It has already decided my future. This canvas will lead me to glory. It has spoken to me. I have heard it's holy gospel and I will carry out it's will. This ring is insatiable. It wants your blood Randy. And so do I.
So fittingly, at the PPV special title "Badd Blood", I will offer it your screams. I will offer it your tears. I will offer it your bones. And I will offer it your blood. And in return it will continue to recognize me as Champion. Randy I want you to take one last look at this ring behind me. When you were 19 this ring offered you a home. An escape. It brought you unmatched success and fame and money and everything you could ever want. But the time has come for the ring to collect. This place that once sheltered you. This place that was once your home. At Badd Blood, this ring will be where it all ends. That is what this ring wants and that is what this ring will get.
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rawisrey
Freelance Writer
Forever
Posts: 257
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Post by rawisrey on Oct 4, 2021 5:15:16 GMT -6
Greyphics Update
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