Trial By Fire Promo Thread

**Engaged To Ouellet** · 01-06-2012, 02:18 AM

Promos are due WEDNESDAY January 11th, 2012 at midnight pacific time. Extensions must be requested by TUESDAY JANUARY 10th 2012 at midnight pacific time and will be no longer than 24 hours. Remember if you get an extension so does your opponent unless s/he has already posted their promo.

EXTENSIONS:
Ryan Rondo
Juan Lopez
Everyone in the Tag Team Turmoil match
Mustang Maddie

**Smartmark** · 01-06-2012, 01:46 PM

Color Key:

Gray: Scenery & Description
RoyalBlue: Mike Mundane

As the scene open we see noting but darkness

Where am I? It's so dark in here that I can't even see myself. Oh No! They finally got me didn't they? The mob drugged me and put me in a sack. And now I'm probably in the back of a car, on my way to be thrown off a bridge. So sad it's gonna end like this.....

**Nolee_Lacroix** · 01-06-2012, 05:07 PM

The camera opens up in black and white and we can see moments from Josh Hill's life. In one he's sitting on a tour bus with Nolee, laughing and talking with her. In another he's backstage at a concert, barking orders as people are setting up a stage. Finally we see Josh in a locker room area, lacing up his boots.

Josh: Yeh know, all my life I've been the one behind the scenes, pulling the strings. I've never thought much about making a name for myself so that I could be famous. But here I am. Getting ready for my first match in the FWA. I've never really wrestled much before so I'm glad they put me up against a...whats that term...uh...jobber? *he snaps his fingers as if remembering* Yeah a jobber! Who knows? I may even cement myself as a legit star.

**Nolee_Lacroix** · 01-06-2012, 05:12 PM

The camera opens up on Nolee talking on a phone as she applies makeup using a hand held mirror. When she sees the camera she smiles slightly before going back to do her makeup.

Nolee: Hey, look, I don't have much time cuz I'm goin' out to meet friends for drinks. Yes, the rumors are true. I'm back in the CWA after the second leg of my tour. No, I don't have to leave again for a while.

She gets done putting her makeup on and turns to the camera.

Nolee: Some of yeh may be wondering if I'm ready to climb back into the CWA ring just yet. Well for yeh naysayers, I never stopped being ready. Half of my time on tour was spent actually workin' on my music while the other half was spent in the gym. I'm stronger, faster, and meaner than I ever was before. Granteed, I'm still not mean outside of the ring. Nah, I figure why should I treat people with disrespect outside of the ring. Kill 'em with kindness was what I was taught growin' up.

She smiles and puts on her black cowboy boots, a smile crossing her face.

Nolee: So my first match back is with Jennifer Sky. Now, Imma be real honest. I didn't watch the FWA while I was on tour. I didn't have time. So I'm not to familiar with everybody. Sure I remember names like Gabby or Chris Kennedy and of course Killemall. What I don't remember is Jennifer Sky. Hell, when I first heard I was in this matchup I wanted to know why they put me against a jobber. After being told by some dear friends of mine, I realized the truth. She wasn't a jobber.

Nolee stands and grabs her coat off of the chair.

Nolee: That being said, I look forward to the challange she brings. Lord knows I've been lookin' forward to a match here.

The camera fades out on Nolee's sassy grin.

**The Golden One** · 01-06-2012, 11:52 PM

Three boys are heard laughing as a beautiful front lawn with trimmed green grass, a flower bed, two butterflies and a brick house are shown. A cloudy day hides the sunlight as a slight breeze makes for a perfect day for kids to be outside playing, laughing, enjoying themselves. One of the boys, a 4 year old, is riding a toy bike with training wheels around the driveway while two other boys, who are around 10 or 11 years old, kick a soccer ball back and forth to one another.

A small golden retriever is shown running around chasing the ball while the kids laugh and play.

Suddenly, the ball rolls across the street and into the parrallelled front yard. This yard's lawn is a bit less upkept with uncut grass, no flower bed, and a sleeping pitbull in the yard. The kids are instructed not to go across the street without looking both ways or go into the yard without the owner's permission.

But they want the ball back.

"Come on. It'll be fine. The dog is sleeping," one of them says.

The dog is hooked by its collar to a tree so it cannot terrorize anyone but protects the front door and windows from possible intruders. It is known to be a mean dog if anyone invades its space but relatively quiet and uncaring otherwise.

"Get the ball and come back," the other boy says.

The two travel across the street and take their first steps into the yard. The mystique and nervousness subsides as the two kids seem to be okay. One of them grabs the ball but the other is more curious about the dog.

"Your mom always says not to bother this dog but I don't think he's that bad," the fearless child says. "Let me see something."

As he moves closer, he grabs a stick. The other child goes no closer than where the ball was but watches intently. The kid walks up with the stick, and the dog no longer sleeping and his head raised and looking at the boy. The child pokes the dog once in the face with the stick, and no reaction follows.

"See! This dog isn't scary. He's a bore," the kid says.

"Come on. My mom will get mad," the other responds.

The kid takes the stick and pokes the dog again, but this time the dog responds. He barks and snatches the stick from the kid's hand in one quick second and then springs to his feet and lunges at the now terrified child, tackling him and biting him once on the shoulder before his owner storms out of the house and orders the dog to subdue his emotions and tame himself.

The child is injured, but not enough to get to his feet and quickly run off the lawn.

"He might look harmless, but if you mess with this pup you are entering a warzone," the owner says with an all-knowing hint in his voice and wise smirk as he watches the kids look on from across the street.

-------------------------------------------------------

"The Golden One" Devin Golden has three things on his mind, but he has a tough time organizing them into their own thoughts without them crossing and stumbling over one another. Golden is not a stupid person; he graduated college and generally has a good grip of what is going on in the world. Ron Paul fires him up, Tim Tebow electrifies him, and he searches for Mondo drinks and Dunkaroos.

What he cannot get his head around is how or why Carmine "Grim" Reaper and Xavier Xander Xerxes did what they did. He cannot get a grip on it. He doesn't understand exactly where or when the decision was made and how long he was in the dark.

But he knows he was in the dark and he knows he was the victim of being overthrown as the captain of his own ship.

As he walks off the airplane and into the airport terminal in Detroit, Michigan. A one hour drive to Pontiac, Michigan will follow. The drive will be nice; allows him time to think more about what has happened and channel his anger, aggression and newfound energy into what is at hand.

Many people inside the airport recognize him and ask for autographs, and he entertains their requests. He is a fan favorite again; it's something Golden hasn't been for more than a year. People chanting "Golden One! Golden One!" When The Great Siege was out in their new roster with Wolf, Carmine and Xavier, the crowd was chanting for Golden. While the mere sight of seeing the trio that tore him down and embarassed him, it was comforting hearing the crowd get 100 percent behind him again.

"But why Wolf," Golden thinks to himself as he walks toward the luggage claim area. "Why did they choose Wolf? He was dead and buried. Then the video was shown of two people in cloaks going to dig his body out of the grave."

This is the second thought Golden has. Why Wolf? Why was Golden betrayed for Wolf's leadership and guidance? Carmine of all people has made the trek through the FWA in a mirrored version of Golden. He has seen Golden lose time and time again with Wolf; he knows that is the big low blow he could make.

"Carmine knew it would affect me more," Golden almost mutters under his breath.

Xerxes is a different story, and one Golden already closed the book on. XXX had issued with Rondo's involvement in the Siege right from the get go, and that led to him hopping on board with Carmine's plan.

"And yes, it was Carmine's plan. No doubt in my mind," Golden says to himself, causing one person to glance at him for a split second before returning to focusing on his own matters.

Golden took XXX to the woodshed, and that's that. Let him rot if he doesn't like Rondo's involvement. Let XXX cry like a immature child.

But Carmine. Why Carmine? Where is Carmine's motive?

"He is to me what I am to Wolf," Golden realizes in his head as he walks out of the airport and motions for a taxi cab. "He can't get one on me. Whenever someone thinks of him, they think of me first. Whenever someone thinks of Carmine as the up and comer, it's not before thinking of me as the up and comer. That was the tale for three years. Jealousy. And he never...never beat me one on one."

Carmine never won the X-Division title. And he didn't win the North American title until Golden defeated Stu St. Clair at Mile High to win the World Heavyweight title.

"Carmine's only claim to fame for two and a half years was the World Tag Team title reign he had when Bullseye Johnson carried him."

So, really, Carmine always had it in his mind to turn his back on Golden. This was his way of getting even. String Golden along like he was a good second banana and then make the move when it was right.

"Only problem is, he started a war. I was completely unmotivated after I lost to APAB at Back in Business and formed the Crossfire Great Siege. I had zero desire to climb back up. I had my will and spirit broken.

And then Carmine, XXX, and Wolf slapped me in the face. And that's all I needed."

Golden slides into a taxi cab and shuts the door.

"But now they have to pay for poking a mean pitbull with a stick."

"What did you say about pitbulls, sir?" The taxi cab driver turns around in his driver's seat to look at Golden after asking the question.

"Oh, sorry. I was talking to myself. Um, Pontiac, Michigan, please."

**The Mac** · 01-06-2012, 11:59 PM

ooc: this is my first promo in quite some time and i would love feedback on it what u liked what u hated i dont mind criticism

scenery
talking

Bullet with A Name On It Blares Over The loudspeakers And the fans act indifferent as they have never heard said music before. Mac Michaud walks through the corner, a towel over his head and his head down, the few fans in attendance stare in horror as this monster walks down the ramp, mac walks up the stairs and steps over the top rope before stalking the announcer into th corner and ripping the mic from his hands, the announcer runs out of the ring, mac slinks over to the corner and slumps down and begins to talk

Mac: DOOOOOINK, You are pathetic, you are everything that is wrong with this god forsaken company. Just like all the peons in the audience you hide behind a mask, although there's are figurative yours is as literal as can be. You people sit there and clap for who the announcers tell you too and boo who you are told, you smile when deep down you are all PATHETIC wastes of skin

The Boos cascade down and mac loves it

mac: see just like that you know common response is to boo but if you look deep down you would realize that im right...i may not reach all of you..i may not be able to change you...but i know one person who will NEVER be the same and that is doink the clown... Doink you hide your true self from this audience and they just eat it up, you fear their raction to th real you don't you doink, well this PPV is very fitting because this match will be your Trial By fire and you will GET BURNED... After tonight you won't hide behind the facepaint, but the crimson mask of blood and plasma will do the trick you have perfected over the last few decades. Doink the pain you will experience will be like nothing you have ever experienced in your waste of a life, I am gonna decimate you, bones will be broken and blood will be shed and I'M GONNA ENJOY EVERY SECOND OF IT

mac throws the mic and rocks back in forth in the corner, the fans in attendance shocked by what they just heard

**King of Camelot** · 01-08-2012, 05:37 AM

Jennifer is standing backstage looking at a monitor of here lose against Saddle Sally, she nods her head. Jennifer switches of the monitor and walks off into the corridor shaking her head.

Jennifer: So much for that match, but I can’t go bury myself in shame for losing to a better and more experienced opponent. As I said earlier this match was just a waste of talent both for me and Sally, but whatever. Now I just need to focus on my next appearance in the ring.

Jennifer sit in a couch when she gets the news that she will be facing Nolee Lacroix at the PPV Trial by Fire she jumps up in excitement and runs out the door as the camera fades into the candlelight that is standing on a table.

Disaster smashes to the sounds system as Jennifer appear on the stage, she wears a blue top, and a black skirt. She runs down the ramp as into the ring, she goes to the top turnbuckle and raises her hands into the sky, the audience starts to cheer. Jennifer grabs a microphone.

Jennifer: Cut the music, I don’t have time for this now Michigan so this is where it happens tonight for the PPV trial by fire I hope you are ready because I’m as ready as I can be, and the same goes for my opponent if she is scared to come out tonight she has every right to be I’ll teach her a lesson or two. I know I disappointed my fans last week, but this time I won’t let you down, tonight you will see the referee raise my hands in the air as I get my second victory in the FWA.

Jennifer grabs a chair from outside the ring she puts the chair down and sits down.
She leans forward, and her hair falls down on her face.

Jennifer: My opponent tonight I’ve heard some rumors that you are just getting back into the FWA ring from some kind of tour, but don’t expect me to welcome you back. The return of you will be a big disappointment not only for your fans that you might have left, but also for you. You can’t just walk back in here after being gone, times has change and people has changed. Nolee don’t think I won’t hurt you because I will if you stand in my way of victory. So Nolee if you are a clever girl and I’m sure that you are you’ll back yours stuff and go HOME and leave this business to the professionals. Tonight we face off on Trial by fire so bring what you can to this ring even your guitar or whatever instrument you played if that helps you along, but in the end I will be victorious in this match. And when I do, I’ll place my feet upon your body and be proud.

The audience is a bit stunned over what they just heard, but they cheer in excitement. She throws the microphone over the rope, and takes the chair in her hand.Jennifer smashes the chair into the canvas. She signals with her hand that she's waiting for her opponent the camera fades into black.

**Wolf** · 01-08-2012, 10:09 PM

The Great Siege Wolf and XXX

Deep under the coils of the Pontiac arena, Michigan, the gaslights maze of tubes and wires crisscross underground, melding itself as a big metallic organism spewing out heat and power into the behemoth arena. As they plunge farther and farther into the ground, each wire becomes thicker and darker, rubber and copper enrolled around the feeding mesh. Once they reach the lowest point burrowing into the core of the city that never sleep, they triple in size, dark and unmovable pillars, feeding the gigantic building with the energy it needs to live, rigid, obscure and powerful, living in the center of the underground. Wolf is sitting next to a hole in the wall, a thoroughly broken, space in the brick made for the tentacles of the architectural masterpiece. Legs crossed and sitting on the ground, accompanied by minimal light he is reading a story to the wires, that have not had company in ages.

Wolf: ..... and in the end, as the man got up to leave he saw the glimpse of madness in the eys of the man in front of him. For it has to be said that the dress shirt of the interviewer had finally revealed itself to be fastened backwards, revealing a residents garment underneath. And it shook him, the screams he had heard had not been those of the patients, gruesome and frightful to our guest but alas they had come from the doctors, probably locked behind iron doors finally seeing through the right side of the bars. The man before him ginned when his understanding reached our visitor. The inmates had finally run the asylum.

He allows himself a light chuckle, something that suggests comfort in nostalgia. The chilly cold of his heart pours out from a single stout, only momentarily which ends when his face crisps back into a deformed growl. He looks up at the camera interrupting him in his reading. He leaves the book slowly and lifts his head for his keynote.

Wolf: That’s always been my favorite story, and somehow through the years, through pain and anguish, moments that made me understand more about myself also made me understand more about what this Punchinello meant. You know that this story has no end…nothing to close the book on…and would you think it’s because the author never thought it right to finish his story or would it rather be because people just weren’t ready for the conclusion, they weren’t prepared for what was to be said in that story…

His hands brush the pages, the scars on his knuckles drag across the dry ink.

Wolf: I know the ending because I’ve been there; I’ve been at many endings. I’ve attended endings almost as often as Darnell Porter slept with a woman. While I was on Crossfire I was watching Fight Night every single week, because of The Great Siege. I saw the the Jolson kidnapping, I saw the takeover, I have seen it all. I decided to give a new ending a try, another chance at closing this story, this Punchinello ends like FWA. After the guests understand that the inmates have taken over the asylum, he decides to stay there, that’s the ending, he feels at home. He understands that things are going a lot better now that the patients rule over the hospital. Then comes the happily ever after, at the moment you finally understand that if the crazy people in this world, were given the power to change things…well… things would work a lot better than under our present rule. That’s why the ending was never shown, because people can’t deal with the complete truth, the fact that those who we believe to be lesser follies are actually bigger maniacs. It tells us to free the insane and let them take the wheel for a while, we won’t crash the plane, we might even make it fly higher.

Wolf lifts his hand to clear the hair away from his face, he looked up and finally decided that he preferred not seeing the camera, he placed his hair back over his eyes.

Wolf: Now it’s become abundantly clear that you will never let us The New Great Siege rule, it’s pretty obvious that nothing can ever shake you hard enough for you to understand that you should submit to us. And I know that power isn’t given…it’s taken. Gold is Power and at Trial By Fire we are gonna take it. Darnell Porter, The Cuban Connection, Over The Edge, Veronique and JoJI, Cameron Cross and Ryan Rondo. Fighting you all until you buckle up and abandon is too easy for unrelenting inmates like us, we need the challenge of a good fight and we need to be crazy enough to be concluded by some sort of French move where you guys throw your weapons at our feet. You heard me: We want you to relinquish power to us as a peace offering, we don’t want to take stuff, we want to reduce you to your most basic expression until you find nothing else to make us stop, until you voluntarily give us the keys to the asylum.

Under the curtain of wet hair crept a smile, a cut of understanding on the Beasts face. His teeth did not shine, but every word coming out of his mouth gleamed with over-the-top sanity.

Wolf: Frankly, I'm happy to see Darnell Porter in this match. He and i are few remaining men from the old era of FWA and that is exactlly the core of porters fear. Porter your are afraid... Not of me, or XXX or Crossing Rondo or APAB. ESPECIALLY not The Cuban Conection. But of fading into the obscurity of rankings. Of going from number one to number eight. Doesn't seem like a long fall, but it is... Isn't it? Because then it's back up to three, down to five, back up to four, down to seven, back up to two... Down to fifty. You're afraid that one day, you may cross paths with some guy in the back and he or she will just laugh at you. Because they will see what you are most afraid of... A washed-up, beat-down, stuck-in-a-rut, one-trick-pony, flash in the pan. You don't want your fifteen minutes to end, Porter. But I got news for you, they were over months ago. And after this Tag Team Turmoil with whoever you bring? I think you'll realize that. But do what you do, Darnell. Bring it all. Bring the insults, the ability, the agility, the hunger, the designer sunglasses and T-shirts... BRING IT ALL!... But you're going to find, that no matter how hungry you are. No matter how great of a fighter you may be... You won't be quite... great... enough. Sad fact, Darnell. Sad fact indeed...

He looks up into the sky and his eyes widen as if the answer had fallen from the Heavens above. A smile cuts across his face -

Wolf: Veronique and JoJI... Do you know what I like the most about young, impressionable minds? It's the malleability factor. You're like clay, or in this case, silly putty in my hands. Ready to be twisted, and turned inside and out - just aching to be transformed - craving the reformation that will allow them transcend. Do you understand? That through the punishment I will inflict, there will be pain... there will be anguish and as your bodies writhes in agony, you'll know that I'm simply working. I will be re-modeling your beliefs; reconnecting your nerves; rewiring the way you see the world... And when it's all said and done, I want you to know that you'll be thanking me for helping you see the world through a different perspective: One of prurient RED, and decadent BLACK ; one of liberating GREEN and enthralling BLUE. Every color: a dimension. And as the curtains prepare to rise once again in front of thousands of enraptured eyes, you Joji, have been unknowingly cast as a character with so much potential yet so blind to see it. Perhaps our scene will allow you to become something more...

He finally closes the book in front of him, as if the story had no come to an end, Wolf had now decided to narrate fates.

Wolf: I have seen dozens of men, just like you. All young, strong, confident... cocky... one prettier than the next. What makes you think that you're any different, Crossing Rondo? This is wrestling. That's what you fall back on. That what you rely on and THAT is what you're paid to do. But that, I'm afraid, is a very small way of handling such a grand opportunity. You see, the ring, to me, is a canvas. And with the whole world watching, week in, week out, each one of us possess an unprecedented opportunity. I want to mold the world. But, again, I'm looking too far ahead. The skull on my face, the darkness I tend to dwell in, have little effect on a pure athlete such as Ryan Rondo and Cameron Cross. But the fact that I've worm more gold than you could afford... the fact that greater men have fallen at my feet... these are things that SHOULD concern you, Crossing Rondo.

He throws the book away, each muscle tense in the act of discharging such inspiration from his body. He finally lifted his head back up, half his face shone in the light like a moon in the sky. His mysterious presence reminded you of the dark orbit of a female satellite. His hands, now empty, crept around as if looking for something to strangle, they would have to wait a couple of hours for the Battle, but once the time come they would prance and glee in torturous release.

Wolf: Because when I fight you, it’s like a chemical peel, I take away everything that was dead on you and I wipe what rests completely clear. You know that the point of torture is never in coercing people to give you the information you want? No, the point of torture is to break someone in such a manner that when you lift four fingers in his face, he sees five. Torture isn’t convincing people. It’s remaking someone into what you want, and you two have no idea how many people I’ve remade in my time here, remade as better models. So for your understanding, you self proclaimed “finest”, I know you’re listening very closely so let me make my point abundantly clear : I don’t wrestle anymore, I torture people for a living. I torture people in rings, I hit them and fight them and break them down until they become as blank as that canvas on top of the ring. Subtlety is over, it’s time for you to understand that the means I use to attain my ends isn’t glamorous, but society doesn’t condone subtlety, people want broken limbs and crying children, and you’ll be happy to know that that’s just what I intend to give them, come the Trial by Fire.

Darkness enveloped him, and if you heard his words well “Finest” you would be stricken with the realization that Darkness was coming for you next.

**Mr.E** · 01-08-2012, 11:38 PM

Tripper: The Blueprint was everything.

**Trippers voice echo through the hollow darkness. Blackness engulfs the entire screen**

Tripper: All I had to do was follow it. It was flawless, nothing could have stopped me. Save for myself. I was on my way back.

???: Back from what.

Tripper: Not from anywhere in particular. More to.

???: Back to what.

Tripper: What I am.................was. What I should, no, need to be.

???: You need to be more like me. I've always said it.

Tripper: Don't you see though. I didn't at first but I do now.

** A street light flicks on and off, providing a little brightness to the dark backdrop. It continues to flicker though.**

???: (Angrily) There's nothing to see that I haven't shown you. That I can't show you.

Tripper: The more I let you show me the less I see, I was practically blind. I want to see again, I can see again. You've gotta understand, you've just gotta!

???: Ingratitude doesn't suit you Renee, it never has.

Tripper: But, but....I was worse off with you than I ever was before.

???: BUT YOU WERE WITH ME. AND THAT WILL NOT CHANGE.

**The flickering street light goes out; back to darkness, the silence intensifying each and every moment..............

Footsteps

The street light screams on creating a beautiful spotlight engulfed by black. To the right of the Lamp Post a street marker becomes visable with signs pointing in two direction. One reads MUNDANE, the other simply THE OTHER WAY. A figure, the apparent source of the loud echoing footsteps finds his way into the light and stares up at the sign. Tommy Tripper.**

Dear Tommy,

Once again I find myself at a crossroad with a decision to make. Where my judgment has failed me in the past I will for once let common sense take hold. After a swift depature from the FWA, a company which ressurected me from the dead, I find myself back, given another chance to shine like I had, for that bitter sweet second. Mike Mundane is the chance that I've been given, the road that I must take. Temptation surrounds me but I must fight my addiction. My addiction has no name, can't be diagnosed, but those who know me, have known me, have seen it destroy my life countless times. Where before I thought failure was inevitable I now see what I must do, what must happen. Mike Mundane impressive in how unimpressive he really is stands in my way. He stands now undefeated, I stand twice broken, and twice glued back together. The difference between us, seemingly obvious, hides itself, as I see it, on the inside. Mundane would describe himself as just an ordinary guy, but there is nothing ordinary about me, least of which the passion and fire which burns inside me. I know I've let everyone down before, chalk it up to poor advice, but this is the road I must, nay, will take. I will win, I will rise once again from the depths which I wallow in now, I will make you proud of me again Tommy. I simply must.

With all the love I can possibly muster,

************************Fade to Black************************

**Engaged To Ouellet** · 01-10-2012, 12:00 AM

”You see, their morals…th-their code? Heh….it’s a bad joke…dropped at the first sign of trouble. They are only as good as the world…allows them…to be. I’ll show you. When the chips are down…these so-called ‘civilized people’? they’ll eat themselves…

…See, I’m not a monster…I’m just ahead of the curve.”

One has often wondered when in the midst of darkness…are you scared because of the absence of light…or because of the monsters that lurk in the pitch? When your heart pounds in your chest…are your sure it’s not the predator stalking its prey? The questions posed hit too close to home as our scene starts…fading from black…into darkness itself. No, not pitch black nothingness…more so…the absence of color. The wild grass blowing in the summer breeze takes on a morbid appearance as all that is green and good in this world…is seemingly gone…replaced with the incredible sameness that is monochrome. The sun, that beautiful golden chariot which spends its days fumbling towards ecstasy…is seemingly the grim reaper…leading the condemned midday to its prison of nightfall. The trees are twisted and broken. You can almost hear them scream for release from their torture. Amidst this…sadness and decay…

…walk the very things…that revel in this world’s demise.

Their sharp, black cloaks are all at once in contrast to this grey world…but are seemingly right at home within it. You cannot see their faces…but the ghosts that have been haunting the FWA for months now need no real introduction. The one with the Tragedy mask sits at the base of one of the trees, taking in the scene as the one with the Comedy mask dances around and picks flowers…seemingly enjoying the sun and the gentle breeze. You realize that you are alone with them. Trapped here, in their world. They don’t seem to acknowledge you right away. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you build up enough courage to try to back away…try to find a way out. As you turn around…Comedy is standing right behind you…that twisted smile on its porcelain face. You want to scream…but no sound comes out. Comedy laughs at you and cock’s its head to one side…

Comedy: Oh, and what have we here? You clever dog you…you found our special hiding spot…and just in the nick of time too! It’s STORY TIME! YAY!

Comedy pulls you along, walking quickly towards the tree under which Tragedy is sitting…

Comedy: Come now, come now! You don’t want to miss this! Tragedy tells the best stories! Tragedy, look! We have a guest! Now you can tell your new story to both of us! Isn’t that great?

Tragedy looks up from where it was sitting. The blank, expressionless eyes, complete with a solitary black tear, strike your nerves as with a deep voice…it tells you to…

Tragedy: Sit.

Feeling almost compelled by that single word, you take your seat in the monochrome grass. Comedy runs over to Tragedy like a little child and lays its head in Tragedy’s lap. They both look at you for a long, quiet moment. Finally, Tragedy speaks…its voice barely above a whisper…

Tragedy: It stirs the soul to tears, doesn’t it? This lifeless world, this monochrome void. Once…so green and beautiful and now a shell of its former self…a mockery of its former glory. Shall I tell you of the story of its fall? How something so beautiful became so…ordinary?

Comedy: Yes! Yes please!

Tragedy: Very well. A long time ago…back when hopes and dreams meant something and ambition was as valued as currency…this world existed. The name of this place was…

Comedy: The Fantastic World…of Avalonia.

Tragedy: That’s correct, Comedy. Avalonia. Most people thought it was a made up world, filled with warriors and princesses…monsters and heroes…dragons and slayers…but for those who really believed…who looked for it…it wasn’t hard to find. The best part of this world was that if you really chose to be a part of it…put in the work to make this world yours…the beauty of this place would really open up to you! It was glorious. Men and women, for the most part, fought and jockeyed for position. Champions of the realm were crowned and contenders always waited in the wings. You kept what you earned…and no one could lay claim to your greatness unless they beat you for it first. It…was heaven.

Comedy: It was…until the bad times. It was heaven…until the emperor came.

Tragedy: How right you are, Comedy. It was at the height of this world’s progress did the former ruler, King Gregory, become ill. Many would be suitors tried to lay claim to the lordship of this fantastic world of Avalonia…even its greatest champion…a man known only as the ‘Inferno’…but the one that emerged was the emperor of the bad times. His name…was Matthew.

As Tragedy says his name, Comedy hisses with a seething anger…

Tragedy: Heh. Within months the Emperor unleashed a new horde of monsters…the likes of which Avalonia had never seen before.

Comedy: You would think that these monsters were legendary. Creatures that would strike fear into the hearts and minds of the people of Avalonia…but no. They were mediocre at BEST! Little, disgusting, voracious worms with the power only to kiss the Emperor’s ass.

Tragedy: The Emperor backed by these monsters…sucked the life out of this once proud world…not with power but with whispers. “We deserve this,” “They don’t deserve that,” “We’re the main event of the latest pageantry, not them,”… it went on and on until the monsters had all but destroyed the pillars of this community.

Comedy: There was a small band of resistance, though!

Tragedy: Yes, there was. It was led by Sir Christopher and Lady Neva. They fought for all that the Fantastic World of Avalonia stood for at the beginning. Hard work and fair play. However…the Emperor was too strong. He slain Lady Neva upon his faithful sword and banished Sir Christopher away. The resistance gave way to those not strong enough to stand against the tide…struggling to find homes in the new…evil regime. It was then…that…Comedy here…lost its life.

Comedy’s head falls in despair…

Tragedy: Soon after…I…lost my life to the evil regime as well. That…is when this world came into being. That is when I and Comedy became the ghosts that walk here and there…haunting the monsters that still exist.

Comedy: You know…it’s funny. Only AFTER we died and became ghosts…did we notice all the walking dead around us. We started to collect our…misfit toys…and set them on the path to becoming fixed again…

Tragedy: …and now…only after the world was allowed to die a painful and mediocre death…are there…signs of life. Champions are emerging once again and the excitement of this Fantastic World…slowly starting to come back.

Comedy laughs a playful, almost childlike laugh…that is joined by Tragedy…and in that next instant…stops dead silent…

Comedy and Tragedy: We. Are. Not. Amused.

Comedy: You…all of you…make a mockery of what this world once was. The glorious imagination that once spurned this world to grow…has now been replaced with tired, convoluted, contrived and utterly trivial bullshi…

Tragedy: Comedy…language.

Comedy: Yes, of course. Forgive me, Tragedy. You all…walk the path we’ve set…achieve the goals we strived for…and what, just expect us to fade away…nothing more than a memory? No, no you do not have the RIGHT to forget us. We…will descend upon you like locusts…

Tragedy: …smiling as we do…

Comedy: …and we will MAKE YOU REMEMBER…that for all your…superstars…champions and want-to-be legends…there is still US…and this world…is ours.

Tragedy: You hold your…fun and games. You hold these…Views that people have to pay for…and yet not a single invite for us? You climb on our backs to grab your greatness…and not so much as a thank you? I don’t know what is more insulting…the fact that those undeserving have achieved greatness…

Comedy: …or that they think…we would do nothing about it.

Tragedy: What do you think we should do about it, Comedy? I mean…we cannot just stand by and watch as they try to pollinate our tomb with…this refuse.

Comedy: Hmm. That is a good question, Tragedy. What would shock the masses enough to announce our return to the land of the living?

Tragedy: I wonder if…our new friend might know of something…

Comedy: I’ll ask…real nicely.

Comedy twists its head to look at you again…and crawls towards you on all fours…the smile, no longer happy…but menacing…

Comedy: Excuse me…new friend…would you happen to know…how my friend and I could…reclaim our souls in this horrible facsimile of our Fantastic World of Avalonia? Any idea?

It is upon you now; the Comedy mask is right in your face…almost pushing you backwards. Without thinking, you blurt out the words, “Trial By Fire” and “Tag Team Titles”. You catch yourself…wishing you didn’t tell these…nightmares such information…but by that time, Comedy is sitting on its haunches…clapping wildly…

Comedy: Tragedy, did you hear?! That could be our way! Oh…thank you, new friend…thank you! How shall we ever repay you?

”Please…don’t hurt me…”

Tragedy: Hurt you?

Comedy falls over in a laughing fit…

Tragedy: Why would we ever want to do that? Do you think all we do is destroy? No…not at all!

Comedy: Call this a…reclamation project. All we wish to do is claim what is rightfully ours. That being…

Tragedy: …immortality….

Comedy: and the respect owed us. Is that too much to ask?

”And…if you don’t get it…?”

Tragedy: Then…this world as you know it…will burn…

Comedy: …and you…get to be the last person on the cinders!

Comedy laughs wildly again and Tragedy just simply nods its approval. You start to back away. You’ve had enough. It’s too much. You start to get up…

Tragedy: Comedy…it looks like our friend wants to run away…

Comedy: Don’t run! If you run…

You stand and run as fast as you can. You look behind you and you don’t see these…these ghosts anymore…but as soon as you face front again…there is Comedy and Tragedy. They speak…in almost demonic voices now…

Comedy and Tragedy: …We’ll catch you.

You stumble and fall backwards, landing on the monochrome grass again. The two cloaked nightmares stand over you now, Comedy cocking its head towards you and Tragedy shaking its head in sadness. You can’t control yourself. You start muttering, “I don’t believe in ghosts…I don’t believe in ghosts…”

Tragedy: Comedy, do you hear that? This person…doesn’t believe in us.

Comedy: Heh…well I suppose this could be akin to a very scary ghost story. You know…I remember how those end!

Tragedy: Yes…if the ghost reveals itself to you…the story ends

Comedy: Either that…or the listener…dies. Hmm…

Your heart pounds in your chest as the two of them seemingly confer with each other quietly. In that next instant, the masks are right in your face again. Two bloody hands reach for the masks and start to pull them back…

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!

…ONE, TWO, THREE! THAT’S IT…THE MATCH IS OVER! The noise of the commentators on the television startles you awake. Everything seems to be…normal. The pizza you ordered is still there on the table. Your laptop is still on FWA.com and your cell phone is there on your lap. You realize…you must have fallen asleep. The…whole thing was a dream! You let out a sigh of relief mixed with a subtle laugh. Shaking your head at the absurdity of what just happened; you reach under the pizza box and pull out your tickets for the upcoming FWA Pay-Per-View, Trial by Fire. You smile as you hear the commentators give their final good byes of the evening…

Gallagher: Langdon, what an amazing Fight Night. What a way to go into the huge card this Sunday!

Trafford: You’re absolutely right, Piers. We want to wish you a good night from Fight Night…and we will see you this Sunday…at Trial by Fire!

You go to cheer, holding your tickets in the air…when the electricity in your space…flickers. In that instant, you hear Comedy’s menacing laughter and Tragedy’s voice saying simply…

Tragedy: Yes…yes you will.

**tmnt316** · 01-10-2012, 09:23 AM

NOBODY

Janet are you there?

Come out come out where ever you are.

I need to see those baby blue eyes of yours.

Hi, how’s it going?

Okay, but even better if you start showing….

You know I don’t want to do that anymore.

Just this once, please! I had such a rough day.

Okay, just this once.

Noooooooooooooo!

Your computer screen fades to black as the scene sets in. Rain drops begin to trickle down your screen, looking as if they are actually there. You reach out and try to touch them thinking your computer got wet. You feel nothing but a slight shock from the static created by your dusty old computer monitor. Your hand yanks back on instinct as small child wearing red rubber boots, a yellow rain hat and yellow rain coat appears on screen. You watch as the child starts splashing through the mud puddles and begins jumping around without a care in the world. The child seems to be humming and before long you can hear a tiny voice singing as the rain play ensues.

Rain drops keep falling on my head
I hope I get that big sled
Too bad my daddy is dead
A devil took his head
At least that’s what mommy said
But we must always look ahead
I really hope I get that sled
Rain drops keep falling on my head

You watch as the child doesn’t seem to fully grasp the words and seems excited at the prospect of getting a sled. The scene slightly fades out in the background as the child continues to play and the rain continues to trickle down your screen. But it is over taken by a pair of glowing red eyes staring back at you. They brighten your whole apartment, as you become fully engrossed in their piercing glow. Finally a familiar voice comes over your speakers and you jolt back in your seat, scanning your apartment to make sure Drazin is not anywhere near you.

DRAZIN: “Parenthood is not something to be taken lightly. Drazin knows this from years ago. But you will always remember the events like it was yesterday. There will truly be a first time for everything and you will cherish every moment of it. Yet when it is taken away an empty feeling fills your stomach and never truly heals, it will always be there gnawing at your very soul. Once in a while you may get a slight moment where you can forget but then you see a yard similar to yours, you see a toy that you just know they would have liked and everything comes rushing back. If you think time heals all wounds then you truly are a moron. Nothing can ever take shape or form over such a tragic loss and it will always be there. This was Drazin’s Trial By Fire, anything else that has come since has been nothing but a whisper compared to it. And sadly this match doesn’t even rise to the status of a whisper.”

The rain drops keep trickling across your screen and you could swear they looked like tears coming from the pair of glowing red eyes.

DRAZIN: “But what is the point in saying this you ask? The point is kids make due, they bounce back and move on seeing the world in a wondrous light. The loss of a child is a grueling experience for any parent, but the loss of a parent doesn’t have to be for a child. Especially when they would be better off and that parent is long dead, becoming a Nobody to them. They couldn’t really care about that parent’s existence. All he had to do was do the deed and that was it. Someone else will quickly come along and take his place and the kid will, for all intensive purposes, not know he ever existed. Of course by now you have to know who Drazin is talking about sports fans. That squeal mark on Drazin’s boot, Kennedy.”

The eyes glow brighter as the rain drops begin to slowly taper off becoming less and less visible.

DRAZIN: “Drazin is going to save his so called child the humiliation of having such a nobody for a parent. Kennedy thinks he is big and grand, yapping all the time about how he is going to bring it, how he is going to do this and that but he always comes up short, in more ways than one. But Drazin already went there. He turns his back on the supposed greatest woman he ever had. Probably the only one too, as she already diddled around with everyone else in the locker room. She simply needed that divine perfection of having one hundred percent participation. Then he goes and gets Wolfie’s old flame and still pines over the whore that he turned on. Not to mention he can’t even protect his new flame. Drazin left her lying in the ring all rung out. Drazin guesses a skid mark and a squeal mark do make quite the pair. But before this becomes Tales of The Squeal Mark and His Big Pink V, Drazin will digress. As his out of ring life is just so bad, how could his in ring performance be any worse? The old saying it can always be worse, is spot on every time. This time is no different.”

Your computer screen starts to flash images up on it. The first is of Kennedy being slammed to the mat by Princeton, the second is of him getting pinned by Wolf and the next are all a continued reel of him getting pummeled by Drazin, with the final showing him being pinned by Drazin.

DRAZIN: “Kennedy yaps about beating the likes of Bullseye Johnson and Rocky Creed, putting these oh so great legends out of this Piss Pot Place. Drazin guesses the word legend has become a loose term these days. Neither of those two could be considered much more than a joke. But Kennedy is so big and powerful that he put them out for good. What a great guy huh sports fans? The squeal mark put out two jokes. All they need to do now is walk into a bar and we’d have ourselves a laugh. That is if we could fit one in between laughing at Kennedy’s ridiculous accusations. The fact remains that he can NEVER back up anything he says. The heavens will always open and Kennedy will always come out triumphant every single time. But what happens? He gets dragged back up the ramp a beaten and broken man. Drazin uses man loosely because by evolutions stand point he may be one, but by Drazin’s he’s nothing but a smudge on Drazin’s boot. A one celled organism has a higher IQ then Kennedy and that’s probably still an insult to the one celled organism. This ass wiper will never be Kennedy’s because for all his great wins, he hasn’t attained a single feat worth mentioning. Drazin won tag ass wipers, NA ass wipers, did plenty of new matches, actually killed a legend who’s in the hall of fame and gave everyone a beating like they never felt before. Kennedy is nothing but a fart in the wind, you can smell his stench coming but other than that no one ever gives a shit. He is simply a nobody on a stage that Drazin is going to put him through, then leave him dead and buried in what remains of his entrails.”

Drazin’s glowing eyes come back on screen and you notice the rain has stopped. The child throws her arms in the air and takes off running toward a figure you can barely see off in the distance.

DRAZIN: “You think you can beat Drazin? You’ve already lost to Drazin time and time and time again. Those elimination chambers where Drazin lost to the whore, you seem to neglect you lost way before Drazin ever did. Thos tag matches with your wonderful group, you seem to neglect even with back up, you lost. The first match up you ever had one on one against Drazin, you lost. Out of Sync doesn’t count for more than a bug by the way. You have only ever beaten Drazin when Drazin didn’t give a shit anymore and already beat you to a pulp. When the time comes to actually get a win that means something, you choke on what little spit you have left in that trap of yours. But never fear, Drazin has some good news for you Kennedy. As it seems you have started a new streak lately, one that is sure to go down in the record books. You have lost to three champions or recent champions in short order. Drazin beat your ass, after of course you stated it was your night and you could never lose, along with some other second grade bullshit. You then lost to Princeton and Wolf, as Drazin left you in your own filth. The big bad Kennedy couldn’t beat the fleabag, that he already made such short work of the other week. Oh the humiliation. So that is three champions you have lost too. Drazin is so great Drazin can count as two, so at Trial By Fire you will tack another on to your streak, bringing it to four. Doesn’t that just leave you with such a warm and tingly feeling?”

Drazin’s glowing eyes become fixated in the background, as you watch the child hug a huge red sled that the figure handed her. The child takes the figures hand and holds the sled in the other, skipping off down the road as happy as ever, once again singing.

Snow needs to fall on my head
I got my big red sled
Too bad my daddy is dead
A devil took his head
At least that’s what you said
But we must always look ahead
I really like my sled
Please snow start falling on my head

The daughter and shadowed figure seemed to walk off your screen and pitch black once again reigns over it, as Drazin’s glowing red eyes come back to the forefront of your screen. They are giving off such a glare that you can see a smirk below them.

DRAZIN: “You see Kennedy your child will prefer a sled over their own father. That doesn’t say much for you now does it? You can try and change, ranting about how fans don’t accept you. When really no one wants to accept a nobody because even the sports fans have a life and don’t want to waste their time. But Drazin is forced to once again, leading us down a path where you suffer the Great God Duke Drazin’s wrath once more. Plus Drazin wouldn’t want to disappoint that child and never let them get their sled. So at Trial By Fire Kennedy you little squeal mark, you future has been set. You will forever remain a nobody, losing every important match, person and thing in your life. It will be a fate worse than death and Drazin will revel in every minute of it, until finally you are nothing more than a rotting carcass in the ground, unrecognizable from anybody else. Only then, when the dirt weighs heavy on your soul, the bugs are scrapping away what’s left of your matter and your bones show you for the spineless coward you are, will you be something. You will be part of a collective group of nobodies and only then could you truly rise above the rest.”

Drazin’s entire face fades into view and he strokes his goatee, as his eyes continue to glow and he smirks, like he’s looking directly at you.

DRAZIN: “Drazin already took this shiny old chrome dome, these three dollar contact lenses, Drazin’s goatee from nineteen ninety five and brought them down to the ring, while you became FWA champion. Ohhh wait! Did Drazin just repeat your fiction? What do you have next? You already blew your one great closing line. Unlike Drazin who has many. For instance, button up your diaper squeal mark, place on that velcro pink v, swap some fleas with your skid mark, pretend you aren’t already belittled by Drazin and come on down so Drazin can shove that wasted shiny briefcase further up your ass, maybe even creating a spine. But Drazin would never stoop that low. Squeal mark you have no chance, just get ready to experience the pain of defeat, get ready to suffer for the rest of your miserable life and prepare to have the life choked from you at the hands of the one true champion in this Piss Pot Place. Forget the trial, forget the fire, Drazin is your judge, jury and executioner and your fate has been sealed.”

Drazin fades from view and your computer screen turns black once more. Finally it turns back on to your previous conversation and you hear the ding of your messenger.

You could have at least pretended to like what you saw. I’ll never talk to you again.

Wait! I wasn’t able to respond.

Come back!

Nooooooooooooooooo!

**DramaShark** · 01-10-2012, 11:04 AM

Rod Sterling here.
Yes, THAT Rod Sterling. It would seem The Sterling Report has garnered quite a reputation in the oh-so-glamorous world of Pro-Wrestling journalism (note: Sarcasm) and now Maxim Magazine has enlisted my services for a special one on one interview with The Punk Rock Princess herself, Dinorah Redgrave. Well, when the hottest magazine publication asks me to do a piece on one of the hottest women on the planet, who am I to say no to that? So the FWA flies me out to beautiful Hollywood, California, where Dinorah Redgrave is in town attending a film festival I would be staying in the same hotel building as Dinorah, and it would all be at Maxims expense. This sounds like a job I could really get behind.

It wasn't but 45 minutes into my visit at lobby of the Kennedy Hotel that I had seen Hollywood actors James Franco, Joseph Gordon Levitt, Zoey Deschanel and Ellen Page, all in for the film festival, presumably. The hotel lobby was a hotbed for famous faces, but it is her face that stood out in the crowd. Her long blond hair draped over her bare shoulder, her over-sized sunglasses above her pierced little nose and ruby red smile. She is very easily the hottest woman in a room full of 10's, her skimpy black tank top looks as if it were any tighter her large, supple "endowments" would rip her shirt down the middle, as the skimpy fabric can barely contain them. Suddenly, the tattooed angel in front of me is doing something to me that the only the Viagra my doctor prescribed can do, I go from six to midnight as she extends her hand for me to shake it. Look, I'm not a proud man so I'll admit, the following interview was very hard for me to conduct without staring at her breasts during several moments. And she didn't seem to care. Dinorah is proud of what she has and so she should be. Former SHIMMER champion, SHIMMER tag champion, TNA Knockouts Champion and most importantly, a former FWA Womens Champion and the longest reigning women's champion of 2011. Some say Dinorah Redgrave has revitalized the tag team division with her feud with Sara Wolf and her matches with Madison Lea West. And it would appear as if Dinorah has another big year ahead of her, as she starts the first PPV of 2012 with a title shot, a shot Dinorah is sure to talk about as she takes a seat across from me and begins the interview.

Rod Sterling: Dinorah Redgrave, it is truly a pleasure interviewing you...

Dinorah Redgrave: Oh Roddy, you know the pleasure is all mine...
Rod Sterling: heh, I somehow doubt that. The last time a woman was happy to see me it was my ex-wife, when I decided to show up to the divorce settlement...

Dinorah Redgrave: Yeah, I could see that...

Rod Sterling:So the last time we saw each other, you were a guest on my radio show, you and Maddie were in the studio together, I believe...

Dinorah Redgrave: Correct, that was the weekend of Mile High, not to long ago at all actually. If I remember correctly you also had Seth Rogen on that show. You and him were trying like the devil to get Madison and I to kiss...

Rod Sterling:Can you blame a guy for trying?

Dinorah Redgrave: Of course not. If I was a horny old goat like you I'd want to see me and Maddie kiss too.

Rod Sterling:You are looking great, by the way. Better and better every time I see you.

Dinorah: Why thank you, Maddie keeps me in shape.

Rod Sterling: I'll bet she does. Now, I gotta bring this up. I am at the mall, I can't remember which department store I was in but there was a woman selling perfume and one of the perfumes she was selling said "Redgrave: An Original Fragrance by Dinorah Redgrave. This came as a total surprise to me.

Dinorah: Yes, I launched my own line of perfumes and body creams as a way to get brand name recognition to my Redgrave fashion line, which has been slow to start, but since I released the perfume, sales on my site have picked up and by mid 2012 The Redgrave fashion line will be sold at major retailers world wide and not just the website.

Rod Sterling: So your perfume has been a success?

Dinorah: it's made me more money than I earn in the FWA, and it has helped me launch my fashion label, so I would say it's been a huge success.

Rod Sterling:Dinorah, you have had some classic bouts in your short FWA career, your 3 Womens Title Matches with Sara Wolf is regarded as the feud that revitalized the womans division, your match with Madison Lea West at Red, White And Bruised was one of the matches that stole the show that night and you have even stuck it to The Great Siege when you defeted Aut Pax Aut Bellum (Andrew Johnson and Dan Ward) alongside former TV Champ Anthony, something not many people have been able to do. And the cherry on top of it all, you were the longest reigning FWA Womens Champ of 2011. Do you feel you have accomplished everything there is to accomplish?

Dinorah Redgrave: Absolutely not. I'm just getting started, Ron. 2011 was a great year for me, but it was just my debut year here in the FWA. I have been doing this for 6 years now, since I was 18 years old. Now, I am only 24 years old and I am a former SHIMMER Champion, 2 time TNA Knockouts Champion and a former FWA Womens Champion. That is a tall order for only 24, but 2012 will be a year of many other accomplishments for me. In 2012 I will become a 2 time FWA Womens Champion and I will begin the longest reign in the history of The Womens title. Longer than Sara Wolfs, and I'll look better than her because I will actually defend my Womens title on a regular basis. Not exactly something Sara Wolf can say.

Rod Sterling:Sounds like a big goal, Dinorah.

Dinorah: That's what I am in this business for, right? To Be the best? If you aren't here to be Champion, then you are here for the wrong reasons. But to me, being the champion isn't enough, to me it's about being the best champion you could possibly be. That's what sets me apart from everyone else.

Rod Sterling: Must be strange, that you and Maddie are facing eachother again at Trial By Fire. What is it like being the number one contender to the belt your girlfriend has, the belt your girlfriend took from you in the first place?

Dinorah Redgrave: It is what it is, Rod. I love Madison to death but it's like I just said, you need to be in this business to be the champion, if you don't have that goal than you are just getting paid handsomely to be a punching bag. Outside of the ring, Maddie is my best friend. We stay up late watching stupid Teen Mom marathons in our pajamas, feeding each other ice cream or brushing each others hair or doing naughty things with the lights on. But inside an FWA ring, we are not lovers, we are not friends. She is my enemy, she has what I want, she stands in my way and she must be broken. I will break her already injured legs knowing that the next day I'll be the one kissing her boo-boos and making them better. I'll be the one cracking her ribcage and breaking it so badly that her lower ribs penetrate the linings of her stomach, all the while knowing that the next day I will be the one holding her hair back as she throws up in a hospital basin.I will be the one who inflicts more pain on her than she has ever experienced, knowing that I am also the one person that gives her more pleasure than she has ever experienced. It all comes around full circle, Maddie may hate me after Trial By Fire, she may never even want to speak to me again, but none of it will matter because what I am doing, it's not only for me, it's for her. This is tough love. Maddie has no place in an FWA ring considering her physical condition, and she is much too proud and much too stubborn to listen to the countless people in her life that are telling her it's time to hang it up. I am going to break her into pieces, because I care. I am going to take the initiative to do to her what she doesn't have the balls to do herself. I am going to retire Madison Lea West, and I know that may make me seem like the bad guy but after it's all said and done, Maddie and even the fans will thank me for it. Maddie is on borrowed time, and time is almost up. I am 100% confident that Trial By Fire is the night I become a two time FWA Womens Champion, and it will be the night Madison wrestles her final match of her career.

Rod Sterling: But it's not just Madison you have to contend with in this match, as it's actually a series of 3 matches for the FWA Womens Championship that also involves your good friend and stablemate, The always amazing Alana Allure, who is earning her first FWA Womens title shot tonight. Your actually facing your two best friends in what night.

Dinorah: And I will destroy them both. Alana and I have been close friends since I came to the FWA and I hope that never changes, but there is a reason she is just now getting a shot, and that reason is that Alana was never in my league, and she still isn't, truth be told. I will admit, she is hungrier than either me or Maddie because she has never tasted Championship gold and I know she thinks she is going to win this, but the cold hard fact is that Alana Allure is not a wrestler, she is a manager, a valet, you know...eye candy. She was blessed with a big ol' ass and a nice pair of tits and that's why Eyensane and Killemall keep her around, but it doesn't mean she deserves an FWA Womens Title shot. She hasn't put in the time that Maddie and I have, she isn't at that point in her career yet, she is too green but I can help her with that. Her facing both me and Maddie, getting her ass beat by the two pros who are the best at what they do. Alana, she is very good at a great number of things, like booking autograph signings for Killemall or making dinner reservations for Eyensane and Nolee or making sure that every arena I arrive at has plenty of Coke Zero and Sugar-Free Red Bull in my locker room. Alana Allure is without a doubt a GREAT manager, but unfortunately she is not that great of a wrestler at all. Sorry, that's how I feel but I am not the only one who feels this way. The poor girl has wanted a title shot for so long and is only just now getting one, Even after all the time she must have spent ere, it's gotta say something about her. I pity Alana because she has used her god-given good lucks to get her through life getting whatever she wants. She had no experience as a manager before Over The Edge, and she was so damn hot Killemall and Eyensane brought her on board without even asking about her credentials. Now she thinks she has what it takes to be the top bitch in this promotion, when I have already been letting Maddie play pretend for far too long. Trial By Fire is not Alana Allures coming of age moment where her dreams become realized, and it's not the storybook ending for Maddie either. Trial By Fire is, if nothing else, the night where Dinorah Redgrave takes back what is rightfully hers.

Rod Sterling: You sound very passionate about this match, Dinorah. Like there is a fire inside of you.

Dinorah Redgrave: I am done standing around with my head in the clouds pretending that I am not the best wrestler in the Womens division right now. I've stood back and let Maddie play out this fantasy for far too long. I want my belt back.

Rod Sterling: By the sound of things, you are well on your way to getting it back. I'd hate to be in a ring with you.

Dinorah: Aw, I would take it easy on you Roddy. You are too cute to rough up that badly.

Rod Sterling: I'm holding you too that, Ms. Redgrave. Now, some people have called you the Blond Gabrielle...

Dinorah: I have no idea why...

Rod Sterling: If I could take a guess I would say it's your sexual flamboyancy coupled with your unmatched athletic prowess and desire to win.

Dinorah: Well, be that as it may, their is only one Gabrielle. I could only hope to have a career as successful as hers, she is truly one of the greatest of all time but you know, I plan on putting my own personal stamp on history, and I have got to go through Alana and Maddie to do it. I have a lot of respect for Gabrielle, but in another regard, I want to be better than even her

Rod Sterling: Wow.

Dinorah: You have to set your standards high, Rod

Rod Sterling: And you certainly have. So, you aren't at all worried about Maddie and Alana at Trial By Fire? I know we already touched on this but the fans want to know what your plan is

Dinorah: My plan is to go out there and give 100% of what I have out there. Preparation, determination, desire. Nobody wants this win more than me and I am going to step into that ring, forget all about how much I love Maddie and Alana and become the monster I need to be to win back my Womens championship. Have you ever wanted something so bad that you grow impatient, the thought of not having it is like this torturous weight pressed upon you, you'd give anything and everything you have just to get it back. That's how I feel about the FWA Womens Championship. I want back what is rightfully mine and there is not a single woman, let alone 2, that can come out here and do what I do, I am Dinorah Redgrave and I am the cornerstone of Womens professional wrestling. I will dominate 2012 much like I dominated the better half of 2011 and everyone can come along for the ride and witness what I do to every bitch who makes the mistake of getting in my way. Maddie knows it's my time. Alana knows it's my time. So why are they wasting their time? When I was a little girl, my mother gave me a barbie doll for my birthday. I didn't have many friends as a kid and this barbie doll went everywhere with me. One day in the 1st grade I come back from recess to find my Barbie missing from my cubby hole. I checked every one of those little bitches back packs and found it in the back pack of this girl Lisa Stanfield. I hated Lisa Stanfield, but now I actually had a reason to. When the teacher comes over, Lisa starts lying and pretending that the doll belonged to her. I couldn't let her get away with that, I was furious. So, keeping in mind I am only 6 years old, I grabbed a handful of this little bitches hair, smashed her face into the desk, stuck a red Crayon in her mouth and made her eat it. My teacher grabbed my arm and I turned around popped her in the f@#king mouth, chipped her front tooth and gave myself a lifelong scar on my knuckles. So there I say in the principals office, waiting for my mother to pick me up. But guess what? I have my Barbie doll. Do you see where I am going with this? Maddie has taken away my FWA Womens title and I can not keep pretending that I am okay with it. Maddie, Alana, I want both of you to listen up, and pay close attention. At Trial By Fire, Dinorah Redgrave becomes a 2 time FWA Womens Champion and there isn't a damn thing ANYBODY can do to stop me.

**DramaShark** · 01-10-2012, 12:42 PM

Will the rain wash away
the pain on my own face
or will it instead cleanse the blood
from my broken enemies crimson mug?
Everything I've done wrong has led to this day,
For me to start a new as my filth fades away.
I will stand tall, my enemy laying defeated,
The thrill of the kill: I taste it, I want it, I need it.
Punch drunk with violence, I need an outlet to bring me sober,
my fist upon my enemies face signalling that the rain is over.
The rain is over, The rain is over...
The REIGN is over, the reign is over....

Redemption in the Rain

Tampa, Fl
2 days before Trial By Fire 2012

A crackle of thunder is heard and followed by white lighting across a grey canvas, black clouds pouring rain upon the city streets. The streets are empty, no cars in sight as if the rainstorm had been cause for evacuation. As the camera rolls in, We see someone walking down the desolate 7th Avenue. He is wearing a heavy black raincoat and his long, wet hair covers his face, making him hardly recognizable. He walks at a quick pace, aggressively headed towards his destination. More thunders crackles as he crosses the street, the sound of it loud and abrasive yet the man doesn't flinch, he continues on his path. He tales a left turn down and alleyway, a filthy and decaying alleyway full of oil drums and garbage. Two rats can be seen eating the corpse of another rat and the man in black chuckles, his devilish smile can be seen through the hanging strands of wet hair the cover his face. He exits the alleyway and winds up on Patterson Avenue, where traffic seems a bit more lively as the cars navigate through the grey, foggy roads. The man steps foot onto the shiny, rain slicked streets and slowly crosses, throwing caution to the wind as a blue Nissan nearly hits him, missing him by an inch as the man crosses it.
The driver hons his horn and extends a middle finger out of his window. The long haired, rain soaked mystery man just laughs and waves before stepping foot on the sidewalk in front of the large stone building. The sign in front of the door reads The Museum Of Professional Wrestling History

The man enters the museum, soaking wet and dripping all over the place as he removes his jacket and wipes the wet strands of hair from his face, revealing himself to be The Astonishing Chris Kennedy. Kennedy looks around the museum and smiles to himself, examining the area before heading down the long, dark corridor to the left. Immediately, he sees a framed and autographed poster of 80's Wrestling legend Kerry Kennedy, Chris' father. Chris looks at the picture and for the first time in maybe forever is proud of his father and proud of where he came from. He looks over to the right and sees the AWA Heavyweight Championship that Kerry won with his name etched in gold. Chris touches the belt, studying every intricate design, trying to imagine a time when this belt was draped over his fathers shoulder. Kennedy remembers seeing the belt on the family dinner table when he was 5, and seeing it now on a pedestal for fans to practically worship 20 years later. Chris moves on and sees a framed picture of his uncle Kurt Kennedy winning the ECW title against Raven back in 95. Chris keeps walking down the hall of champions, admiring each picture he passes and appreciating what each champion did for the business. He hits the end of the hallway and sees a door that says The History Of The FWA. He opens the door and is drawn into a world more familiar, The FWA. He looks at the champions on the wall, their pictures, their stories, their triumphs. The first framed poster is of Fred Ex winning the first ever FWA Championship on 9/12/05. The next picture reads 9/25/05 and it's of FWA Hall Of Famer G-Rich standing over Fred Ex's beaten, unconscious body, holding his newly acquired FWA Championship. Kennedy chuckles a bit at the expression on Fred Ex's face as his short title reign is cut short by G-Rich. The pictures that follow as Kennedy walks down the hall convey the changing of the guard throughout
FWA History, from Daniel Sinclair and Sean Kelleher trading the belt back and forth to the days Ryan Hall, Tony Juvenille, and Jillian De Silva. He looks at their framed posters on the wall, each picture holds a champion who proudly sports their most coveted prize. Kennedy admires how every single champion wears the belt just slightly differently, each one making it their own. He looks to the right and sees not just a picture, but a grand marble statue of a dominant champion with the FWA title around his waist. The belt itself is not made of marble but is instead an actual FWA Championship belt. 14k gold over genuine leather. The gold nameplate on the bottom of the belt reads ''The Idol' Matt Boudreau - 9/28/08". Kennedy places his hand on the championship and closes his eyes for a moment, remembering where he was at the moment and time on September 28th, 2008. Kennedy was just a snot nosed indie kid in Ring Of Honor at the time, but more importantly he was a fan, and he was in the front row the night Bourdreau began his infamous and unmatched FWA title reign. Chris admires the belt for a moment, before continuing down the hallway, seeing more champions posted on the wall. The Rocky Creed picture has a large crack going down the middle which causes Kennedy to chuckle as he turns his head to most beautiful picture of them all. In the large glass poster frame we see The Goddess Gabrielle, wearing her signature purple ring attire, proudly holding the FWA title over her shoulder. His eyes become lost in hers as he stares at the picture before turning his attention to the shrine nearby. Chris laughs to himself a bit.

Chris Kennedy: Of course you would have your own shrine in The Museum Pro Wrestling, makes sense...

The shrine is covered in purple suede, with pictures of Gabrielle and Sinful Sensuality, a replica of her FWA championship and a copy of the GaBible, as well as lit candles and red rose petals on around the shrine. Kennedy observes the shrine for a bit before turning his head, absolutely disgusted with what he sees next to it. The picture on the wall is Duke Drazin, wearing his FWA championship belt upside down like a complete and utter doofus. Kennedy walks toward the picture and pulls it from the wall, turning it upside down so that the FWA Championship is no longer upside down, only Duke is. He smiles to himself and silently mouths "That's better" to himself before turning around and facing us, the audience, as if he is just now becoming aware that a camera has been following him the entire time.

Chris Kennedy
Over the years many great men have risen and many great men have fallen, the legacy they leave behind outlasting their very own existence. In the end, when all you are is dust, the only thing that matters is what you left behind. You are either a Champion, or you are one of the other 30 guys waiting in line just to be in the ring with one. I know with every fiber of my being that I am the greatest competitor currently on the FWA roster, maybe even of all time and that means I have high expectations on what my legacy will be. So many men, well I wouldn't say men, rather spineless parasites like Duke Drazin, they take what doesn't belong to them, pretend to be someone they are really not just to carve out their own legacy, a fake, filthy dynasty built upon cheap wins and dirty tricks. Duke Drazin may have come out the winner during our last fight, and I am still trying to figure out how the hell that happened but I also take solace in knowing that I have beaten Duke Drazin, on several occasions, so I know that just because Drazin has had a recent win over me, that doesn't make him unbeatable and that certainly doesn't make him better than me.
I'm a Kennedy, I know nothing of failure. Duke Drazins title defense at Mile High was nothing more than a speed bump on my road to capturing the FWA Championship. It was my interference at Red, White and Bruised that made Duke Drazin a champion and it will be my actions at Trial By Fire that will make him nothing more than a former champion, because I am the dominant opponent in this rivalry, although Dukes ignorance and false sense of pride would have him believe that he is going to beat me a Trial By Fire because he got a win over me at Mile High. He is wrong. Duke is starting to get cocky, more so than usual if you can believe it, and it is bringing him down.

When Chris Kennedy faces Wolf one on one, Chris Kennedy wins. But When I am forced to team with Duke to take on Wolf and Princeton I lose. What does that tell you? That Duke Drazin is dead weight. Not only that, but he has also gotten stale. He comes out here week after week and just says the same stuff, over and over, his rants about urine and feces. It's enough to make anyone else sick, but luckily I can stomach douchbags like Drazin because I have had to deal with them my whole life. I know what Drazin is all about, I look at Drazin and I see what he has become, and it's hard to imagine that the man he is now is the current FWA title holder. When I came to the FWA, Drazin was the first person to beat me after I entered with a nice undefeated streak, even beating the FWA Champion at the time, Rocky Creed. I though nothing could stop me, no ONE could stop me, and then I faced Drazin and I was handed my first FWA loss. I wasn't happy about it, but it gave me something to work towards: Beat Duke Drazin, Right what had been wronged. And I did just that, I beat Duke Drazin several times after that, even beating him a week before his main event at Back In Business, which means that I myself should have main evented Back In Business but that's beside the point. Now that Duke is the FWA champion, I have a whole new reason to beat him and trust me when I say that I will. This victory is all that matters to me, there is absolutely nothing in this world that I want more than to put that FWA Championship over my shoulder, to feel the weight of it as I raise it high above my head. The only thing stopping me from becoming the breakout star in the FWA, is Drazin. I will not let him stand in my way any longer, I will defeat Duke Drzin. That thing inside everyone that tells them to quit when they have reached their limit, I no longer have that. I have done a great bit of soul searching and found that the only thing I have to do to get my edge back is to just let me be myself. Outside the ring my life is fantastic, Gabrielle and I are back together and having a child, and the fans are finally on my side. That's all great, but inside the ring, I have to be the old Chris Kennedy. I have to be the evil, cold blooded and ruthless monster that I have always been, the calculating and diabolical machine that has no room for reason or remorse, just the thirst for bloodshed and the desire to win. That desire is very much alive inside of me and come Trial By Fire Duke Drazin will taste a familiar defeat, after he eats the 5th Bittersweet Chin Symphony of his career, he will black out. All the lights will blur fading into a canvas of white as his pupils roll to the back of his head and drop to pin him. The referee will count one...two...three and I will be the one awarded the prize because this is what I have worked for. My whole life, my very existence, has all been for this moment

Kennedy walks over to the picture on the wall in front of him, it's a picture of Duke Drazin and Chris Kennedy locking up at Mile High 2011. Kennedy looks angry as he studies the picture, still unsure of how Duke Drazin beat him.

Chris Kennedy
I don't know how the hell you did it. Ask anyone who saw it and they will tell you I outperformed you in every way. Maybe the ref was in Matthew Robinson's pocket, or maybe it was The Great Siege who payed off the ref, after all you can imagine why they would be sore at me, not like a really care. It doesn't matter, what's done is done and even though we BOTH know I had that match at Mile High won, I can't change that now. All I can do is focus on Trial By Fire, because that is where we will collide once again, with everything on the line. Last year at Trial By Fire I was placed in my first ever FWA title match, but that wasn't my night, it was Gabrielle's and I was just a rookie given a main event way too soon. I've learned a lot since then Drazin, and since then I have also forgotten more then you'll ever learn. But I won't forget Mile High, I will use it as my motivation propelling me towards greatness, and you are far to weak and far to flimsy to even stand in my way. This is an FWA Championship match, but for me it's a grudge match. You really are my mortal enemy, every time in my FWA career that I am given an opportunity, it's always you who stands in my way at the very end. Part of me wants to thank you for making me stronger, time and time again, but an even bigger part of me hates you so much for everything that you are that is literally impossible for me to show a shit stained piss ant like you any sort of gratitude. I wish I was exaggerating, but I really hate the living shit out of you. Everything down from your mousey little eyes and your ambiguously questionable goatee, your ugly bald head and your ugly nose breathing up all my air, You could make a fortune helping people loose weight, one look at you and they loose their appetite. That's how ugly you are to me, Duke. It looks like your face caught fire and someone tried to put it out with a fork. But you know what, that's only what I hate about the surface. Inside, your a filthy scummy low life. You refer to the FWA as a piss pot place and you have no pride in the championship you are currently holding, which by the way you are only holding because I cost someone else that championship.You have no respect Drazin, not for that title, not for this organization, not even for yourself. I would tell you to be ashamed of yourself, but after I am finished with you at Trial By Fire, the only acceptable emotion you should feel is pity. Self pity and loathing. I promise to make you pay for not respecting the FWA title, I promise to make you pay for what you did to Sara Wolf and I promise to make you pay for being such an ugly, slimy wretched self serving worm.
Duke Drazin, You are living proof that God has a sense of humor, only thing is I don't get the joke. You are a boring champion and a even worse you are an ignorant fool, so set in your belief that you are a god amongst men when in actuality all you are is a bald headed asshole with Aspergers Syndrome, bad taste in fashion and a weird sense of humor that revolves around urine. And you surround yourself with scumbuckets of lower worth than even you, your Happy Hookers and Joe The Camermen, Gung and Ho and Dink and Doink, because it makes you feel better. Maybe to your half brained team of Dungeons and Dragons guild members you are a god, but in the real world outside of your mothers moldy basement, you are not the Dungeon Master, you are just a frilly little limp wristed bitch begging to get the ass beating of his life. I'm not going to stomp a mudhole in your ass Duke, I am going to stomp a goddamn waterfall in your ass, that's when you take a shit and it runs up your back over your shoulder because I've made a pretzel of your spine and gravity is doing it's job. Your ass will be redder than your fake contact lenses and you will have no one to reach out to, no one to take care of you, because you have spent your entire life doing everything you can to make yourself look like the biggest possible asshole you could be, and nobody likes you. If everyone who hated suddenly dropped dead, you'd be the last man alive. You pretend that it's because you don't want anything to do with anybody, but that couldn't be any further from the truth. Late at night, you hide underneath your Jonas Brothers bedsheets crying you ass off wishing that maybe you had someone to talk to, someone that could fill the void left by Trudy when she passed away. I've said it before and I'll say it again, Trudy Drazin is lucky she passed away so young, because she has the benefit of not being part of a world where there is Duke Drazin. You are the cancer bringing the FWA down. I used to think The Great Siege were everything wrong with this promotion until I saw how you handled being a champion, walking around like a mongoloid dragging the FWA championship on the floor, it infuriates me to no end. I'd like to kick your teeth down your throat, but given the way you already look it would probably be a major improvement. People like you are the reason they make the morning after pill, I only wish it was around when your mother was whoring her ass out to everyone back in the day, Duke. It would have really come in handy then.

Kennedy pauses for a moment when he sees the empty poster frame to the right of Drazin's upside down poster. The empty poster frame as a sticky note in the top right corner. Kennedy heads over to it and reads it. It says "Reserved for the next FWA Champion"

Chris Kennedy
Next FWA Champion. That's my spot. I have wanted this for so long, and now that this moment has come I can finally taste it. I haven't even touched the gold yet but I am already addicted, I need this win and nothing is going to keep me from achieving a dream I have had since I was 5 years old, which is being the absolute best there is at what I do and having the gold to back it up. I have been saying for ages now that I am the best that the FWA has to offer, now it is time for me to finally get the confirmation in gold. The thought of being FWA Champion keeps me up at night, I yurn for it it, tossing and turning while thinking about how astonishing the belt would look on me. And I would be a fantastic champion, the greatest this promotion has ever seen. When I came to this promotion the first thing I said was that if Bourdreau were still alive that he would hand over his belt and kiss my feet. Today, looking back on that statement, the sheer arrogance and lack of respect makes me sick because I actually do respect Bourdreau and appreciate everything he has done for this business. I would be so lucky to have a reign as long and dominant as his but I honestly mean no disrespect when I say that I will have a better reign than even him. A longer reign, where I face some of the steepest competition this title has ever seen. Duke Drazin, Stu St. Clair, Wolf, Princeton, Golden...these are all my next victims as I am sure that once I win the FWA gold that's what my schedule will look like. And each one of those men can bring everything they have but it wont be enough, once I become FWA Champion I am never going to lose again, I will be an unstoppable juggernaut of awesomeness tearing through the professional wrestling business at the speed of sound and all I hope is that the reporters and paparazzi can keep up so that they may record my actions in the history books. The Age of Kennedy, The Astonishing Era, it's nearly upon us all and I promise the fans that I will represent the FWA Championship with more style and panache than that chrome domed doofus Duke Drazin who is going to come out here and choke on the same promo he spits every week. Duke has become so repetitive that I will cut the last 10 Drazin promos in 20 seconds, watch:
"Well how about that, Sports Fans. This piss pot place can not contain Drazin. Screw The Sink Hole Siege, That ass wiper Kennedy had a pink V on his tights one time, The Whore is a whore. Feces, urine, poop, urine, poop, Happy Hookers. The End"
There you have it. A Duke Drazin promo. And he is just as bad in the ring as he is on the mic, but I won't fault him for that, It's not his fault god decided to play a joke on everyone when he made him. Duke Drazin is as pathetic today as FWA Champion as he was years ago chasing Matt Bourdreau for his FWA Championship, never once winning it. Duke, if you think history is repeating itself and that the roles are reversed, and that I am going to spend the next 4 years failing at it like you did, well then you really are as stupid as you look. I'm The Astonishing Chris Kennedy, and I do things a lot different than you do. I do things a lot better than you do. I am the reason for Crossfire and Fight Night merging, as there is not enough talent on just one brand that can can keep up with me. Duke, You CAN'T keep up with me, your better days are behind you and you were a loser even then. Here is the deal: Duke You urine soaked Swine, you are going to come out to my ring at Trial By Fire, you are going to hand me my FWA Championship and you are going to walk away with your tail tucked between your vagina because believe me, you don't want the alternative. The alternative is you actually trying to stop me, which will not happen this time, because you will be met with A Bittersweet Chin Symphony, A Kennedy Curse, A step up Enziguri, a running STO, EVERYTHING else I have in my inventory will be used because at Trial By Fire I am pulling out all the stops, I promise to create a beautiful orchestra of violence, a symphony of destruction so beautiful that Charon himself would stop in admiration of the crimson canvas I have created using your own blood and flesh. You are scared Duke, you know good and well you lucked out last time and even you don't know how you won that match but you know you are not going to win this one and it chills you to the core, you bones shake with adrenaline as the fear consumes you leaving you nothing more than a frightened little boy, you are more scared now than you have ever been, aren't you? You worked so hard to get to this level, to become FWA champion, and there is already someone far superior than you in line to take it away from you. How will you cope with the stress, Drazin? How will you go on with your life, your day to day routine, knowing that everything negative thing you ever said about me was in vein? All your little jokes and quips will mean absolutely nothing once I beat you, and I WILL beat you. No, once I have the FWA championship, maybe then you will finally shut that ugly mouth of yours. All you ranting and raving about how we all inferior under the great god Drazin will mean nothing, because you are not a god, you are just a man, a very weak man who can be beaten and will be beaten. The writing is on the walls, Duke, and it says your time is over. It has to sicken you knowing that I will do in one year what it it took you nearly 5 years to accomplish. Don't be angry, Duke, instead, rejoice in the fact that you had the privellege of losing your title to me of all people, and maybe then you will bask in my glory. Maybe then once I beat you and you accept me as the superior man, well maybe then I may be able to let the hate I have for you go but in the meantime you still think your hot shit in a tin foil wrapper, and for that you need to be brought down a peg. What better way to teach you a lesson, what better way of making you understand your role, by breaking you apart and humiliating you. You see, this is why it's so perfect. It had to be you, you had to be champion. Destroying you in front of millions of people as I take what's righfully mine will be the story book ending that this chapter requires, and I am quite sure that I will get that happy ending because I want this more than you do, Duke Drazin, plain and simple. I have put everything I am on the line to bring me to this point and now that I am here I AM NOT GOING BACK! God had this day in mind when I was born 25 years ago, and he broke the mold when he made me. I am Chris Kennedy, the living breathing embodiment of all that is Astonishing and will not be defeated at Trial By Fire, I will not be defeated on my night. You want to retain that belt so badly, Drazin? It's going to take a shitload of Knifes, guns, rocket launchers or even dynamite because there is no possible way you are going to do anything to me with your bare hands that can hurt me and there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop the nuclear level of aggression that I am going to take out on you, the unmeasurable amount of pain that I am going to inflict on your tall, chubby body. Duke, I am going to obliterate you, when I separate your head from your spinal column with a Bittersweet Chin Symphony it will be heard aaaaalllllll around the world, and you may even see your entire life flash before your very eyes, all amidst a backdrop of my size 11 and a half boot as it connects with your greasy ugly face. You can be beaten, I can be beaten but you can be broken and I am unbreakable, that's not a theory but more or less an honest to gods truth. I am everything you are not and tha is why it's time for that FWA Championship to leave your hands and find it's way to wear it belongs, around my waist.

Kennedy paces around the large museum hallway, smiling at the prospect of becoming FWA champion before pausing and getting serious

Chris Kennedy
There is absolutely no other way this can go other than with me standing over your near lifeless body, the millions of FWA fans watching at home witnessing, the thousands in attendance chanting my name. Inside every man is a hungry animal who wants to break out. Once the animal is finally hungry enough, it's not a question of if the animal will ever come out but rather when it will come out and I can feel that the animal inside me is starving, it hungers for a bloodlust that can only be sated by one man. I can beat all the Rocky Creeds, Bullseye Johnsons, Darnell Porters or Wolfs that come my way but the only time I ever feel truly alive is when I am inflicting pain on the man I truly hate the most, Duke Drazin. You have the FWA championship but I have your number, your days of intimidating the curtain jerkers around here have come and gone, you dislike me because I am not afraid of you, because I have absolutely no respect for you. To me you are nothing more than scum stuck to the bottom of my shoe. When all is said and done, the only thing left of your legacy will be the fact that you were the last man to hold the FWA Championship before Chris Kennedy began his historic reign. God it feels good just thinking about that, destroying everything you have built to further expand on what I am already building, to me that's comedy, for you that's poetic tragedy, either way you look at it, it's you losing. Duke, this thing between you and I, it could go ona a thousand years, the two of us trading wins and losses. But I am going to end this at Trial By Fire, properly, by taking the FWA championship off of your waist, because my life is finally starting to turn around and I don't need your ugly mug lingering in my head anymore. Gabrielle and I are having a child together, and I need to be the type of father a child looks up to, not like my father who was a deadbeat and not like you, Drazin, who was a deadbeat to his own son before he died. I am going to be the type of father a kid could brag about, I will be the greatest FWA Champion of all time, but the true legacy I am leaving behind is something I am creating with Gabrielle, not something I will easily take from you. Duke, when my daughter is old enough she will watch the footage from Trial By Fire and she will see me destroying you, she will be more proud of her father than your son was ever able to be proud of you. What it all comes down to is that at Trial By Fire the unthinkable happens, the paradigm shift that the ancient Mayans predicted to hit 2012 DOES hit when The Astonishing Chris Kennedy wins the FWA Championship, the earth will split, the heavens will open and cause cause crimson rain to fall down upon the masses as they all chant my name, but I will be too high in on my pedestal to even hear them, I will sit on my throne as the king of FWA, my coveted FWA Championship around my waist and a beautiful woman at my side, bearing my seed. Life is what you make of it and for me, life has been good but it won't be truly great until I win that title and I have worked too hard, come too far to NOT win the title at Trial By Fire. If I know only one thing, it's that I am a winner. Duke Drazin is not a winner, Duke Drazin is the slimy afterbirth of a pig in labor, in laymens terms he is filthy and poor, not of my caliber. He is not even half the man his mother was. Drazin, keep telling yourself that you are the dominant competitor between the two of us, that illusion will guide you painlessly to your defeat, like an anesthetic bringing you effortlessly to unconsciousness, but it won't matter , because at Trial By Fire the only one who is walking out of our match at all, is the "Snot nosed punk with the pink V" and not the bald headed leather clad cop from the Village people. You disgust me, you SHOULD disgust yourself but like all filthy pigs you have been wallowing in your own garbage for so long that you eat it up. Have you ever noticed the name Duke Drazin rhymes with the word Puke Basin? At least a Puke Basin serves it's purpose, it's a bucket you throw up in. Duke Drazin is just a twerp who makes you want to throw up. After Trial By Fire, my nausea will finally settle when I put that rabies laden pig to rest. So the Bald headed queen of nothing will come down to my ring, and I will do what I should have done at Mile High. I'm going to bring this "piss pot place" down on your god damn head, an ass beating of biblical proportion. I am going to tare your head off and rip your spine out through your neck, sending you back to the cold ugly hell you came from. I swear to everything holy that your mother will cry when she sees what I've done to you. Your trial by fire is at hand, and you are going to be burned beyond recognition.

Suddenly, Kennedy feels a tug at the back of his coat. He turns around and sees two young children, one wearing a Devin Golden shirt and the other wearing a Over The Edge hoodie. They are both around 8 or 9 years old and both look up at Kennedy, in disbelief after spotting an FWA wrestler at the museum.

kid #1: Are you....are you....are you Chris Kennedy

Kennedy smiles at the kids and nods.

Chris Kennedy: You bet your ass I am, kid.

Kennedy pats the kid on the shoulder and quickly exits the museum. He walks outside where it is still pouring rain, but Kennedy just smiles, closes his eyes and opens his arms, welcoming the rain as if Kennedy was showering in it's glory, the change that it brings. The cars in the street come to a halt as Kennedy just stands in the middle of the street, enjoying the rain and stopping traffic. He opens his mouth and tastes the rain fall on his lips, before the last drop of water falls from the sky on to his tongue. The rain stops and the large black cloud in sky parts, revealing one single ray of sun that shines on Kennedy, who continues grinning like the devil as we fade to black.

**Engaged To Ouellet** · 01-11-2012, 12:24 AM

Could it be?

Is it her?

Were all those rumours, those stories, those most joyous of smiles all false?

They must have been, because this image before us all is fitting for only being; our Goddess herself. This scene of utmost tranquillity and bliss, complete and utter peace and relaxation is only deserving of her presence. The glorious golden rays of sunshine shimmer and glow upon the clear blue water of a pool lined with equally blue marble. Gazing into it there seems to be no bottom, just endless blue against blue, appearing so perfectly refreshing that it is in turn tempting. The surrounding area is just as extravagant with a limestone floor decorated with black granite and the occasional large palm tree casting shade down upon the soothingly sloshing water. Surely this place so utterly perfect must be paradise…or even heaven?

Could it be heaven?

Or is it the final resting place of the immortals?

Is this the top of the oft spoke about Mountain?

With everything so well-crafted and sculpted to its most beautiful, one would surely have to first be deemed worthy to visit here. To grace that water is a blessing, to taste the sweet fruits invitingly laid out is a reward. No one would complain if this in its perfect splendour is heaven…or the realm of Goddesses bathed in caramel and carnal lust. The stillness, the lone beach chair draped with a pink silk fabric…these things could not be the environment for billions. It must be ‘hers’. A thought that excites and delights, she is to grace our lives in the role we fell in love with her in. Caramel skin, dark brunette hair, a 34DD bustline, firm and plump buttocks, smooth legs, a delectable giggle, soft lips and those blues eyes all await us once again. The true believers who knew she could never be held down may now rejoice…for there she is. Or her feet at least encased within stiletto heels, their red soles the trademark of a Louboutin. And we rejoice for a moment that feels like eternity…

…But that skin it is more tasty peach than sweet caramel and theres a flickering glance of blonde hair. It is not our Goddess…but she is not unwelcome, for as her long, smooth, tanned legs are revealed inch by inch it is undeniable she will be a sight fit for a Goddesses desires. A thought that is strengthened as more and more is revealed, leading up to a very mini sheer white faux mini skirt. A garment that is more decoration or accessory than clothing as it doesn’t hide her tops of her legs, nor the bottom of her buttocks that peek out from under her black cheeky bikini bottoms which are studded with diamonds that sparkle in the sunlight, shimmering through the sheer skirt. Her midsection is left bare, not touched by fabric or jewellery only the cool breeze caressing her stomach and the few beads of sweat that trickle upon her curves. From there cruelly the black material emerges again and wraps around her large breasts which make the material and diamonds struggle with the same battle that our Goddesses clothes have had to deal with as the fabric strains against all that round, soft flesh. From around her neck hangs a pearl necklace, pressed against her skin and plunging down into her cleavage. A solid gold bracelet adorns her right hand which is also touched a gold ring and on her left hand is a diamond ring. Then finally her face…so sweet and alluring surrounded by golden blonde locks of hair. Her skin is so perfectly smooth, her lips so sweet and alluring…no hint of the malice she is capable of…and those eyes a light brown and as tempting as the rest of her body, projecting sweetness upon her body which is so very capable of torture. She is the woman we will come to know as Veronique, blessed in the Goddesses shadow as her personal assistant with a lovely French accent, a body to die for and a skillset capable of doing that. Her body meets the inviting silk that’ adorns her beach chair as she reclines into it, crossing her legs and letting her blonde locks dangle over the headrest.

Veronique: Je vois que vous m'avez trouvé (I see you found me) unable to wait until I fait signe de la main (beckoned) you it seems. I cannot blame you though…I am a Temptress, my body so fantastique (fantastic) that nobody can resist me. But I warn you I am like the sirens of old lore…only I do not need a song to lure you here. No people approach me to catch a glimpse of my body…or in a foolish attempt to fulfil their fantasy. It almost grows tiring after a while, having so many la touche eux-mêmes à moi (throw themselves at me) it is my curse…and my blessing. The adulation and lust of others gets me depraved stares and offhand remarks…but it also gives me anything I actually want.

Some may call me conceited, arrogant or brash…but even those people cannot blame me (surely)?

I have a body that makes grown men weep and grown women question why the seek love in the arms of men. That alone is enough to inflate any ego…but is the reason for so much more and in turn bettered by it. For you see all my life while I have had things handed to me…I have also had to endure the unsavoury aspects of the desperate and hopeless. Those objectifying stares spurred me on to become so much more than the most tempting and beautiful woman in the world. These softly manicured hands have been covered in the blood of so many…and felt the bones of so many more shatter.

As sweet as I may look I am so much more dangerous…you may think that putting me on my back means you’re going to heaven for the few seconds you can keep it up…but no instead you going to hell. I possess the skills to torture anyone alive with nothing more than my eight weapons. Mains (Hands), coudes (elbows), genoux (knees) and pieds (feet). The deadly sciences of Jui Jitsu and Muay Thai mean that my body is just as capable of rendering you unconscious as it is making you profess your undying love for me. So when those lust filled stares drag on for too long…things can snap…

She teasingly laughs as she runs her hands through her long blonde hair. An act that we can all enjoy witnessing, but perhaps none more than JoJI himself who approaches the blonde embodiment of temptation. The large Maori warrior is dressed in white slacks and an unbuttoned white dress shirt showing off his chiselled physique, his smile matches the one upon Veronique’s lips as he clutches his GaBible in his hand.

Veronique: JoJI vous êtes debout dans mon sunlight…and vous devez ici m'aider Kieran pas le bar autour d'avec moi (JoJI you are standing in my sunlight…and you are here to assist me Kieran not lounge around with me)

JoJI just stares bemused at the French-Canadian unable to understand her. A click of her fingers though and JoJI nods his head before disappearing behind the bar to make her a drink.

Veronique: Il est un bon garçon JoJI…a ralentissent peu et un peu trop étant amoureux d'avec sa Déesse (He is a good boy JoJI…a little slow and a little too enamoured with his Goddess) but a good boy none the less. Perhaps his best trait of all is his willingness to obey the fairer sex…all my life men have done exactly what I tell them to do, but there’s a real joy in his eyes when he serves me. Gabby je dois dire merci pour l'animal de compagnie, il est très apprécié (Gabby I must thank you for the pet, he is much appreciated). And it is not just in fetching me my drinks that JoJI will prove his worth, No his true value is in his dedication to impress his Goddess when in the ring. He wants to make Gabrielle proud and to do that he has to make me happy, he has to fulfil his part in crowning me a wrestling Champion in my very first match.

I have competed all over the world in Muay Thai and Jui Jitsu competitions, knocking out and submitting the very best that this world could offer. But I tired of such an easy road…yes its true despite all that I have been given all my life I still desire a challenge…not that I expect to find anyone here who can stop me. When I first started training Jui Jitsu I was submitting people with decade’s worth of experience, now I’ll come into the premier wrestling company in the world and do the same in my debut.

The Blessed Warrior known as JoJI then reapproaches the gorgeous blonde, his eyes upon all her sumptuous curves, moist with perspiration and the slight dampness of the air. He hands her an exotic mixed drink, smiling as she takes a sip and nods her approval of it.

Veronique: This match is touted as the biggest match ever in the FWA, eight different tag teams vying for everlasting glory. Seven different teams that feature competitors who’ve trained their entire life to perfect just this one craft. I have already mastered two, now I will conquer my third. The dreams and fantasies of others in this match do not matter. I care not for mystery participants or current Champions seeking to stock their resume further. Je suis Veronique (I am Veronique) after all, I am special, unique, amazing to the point where I bewilder even myself with my talents. Oh yes you can all complain that I’m cocky and fantasize about how happy you’ll be to deny me what I am bound to attain.

But it’s just a fantasy, a mere temptation of glory leading you into battle…and I am Temptations Assassin.

I am someone so alluring that I am spell binding. I am so dangerous that I am wicked. I am so smart that it is unfair. I am the future of all things that you people love.

And the bigger the appetite the harder it is to resist happily succumbing to your demise. It matters not if you hide your name or if you’re Darnell Porter desperate to seem relevant again, desperate to reclaim former glory that has abandoned you for you especially ‘Prime Time’ will not be able to peel your eyes away from me. Oh yes Darnell it is true…sadly for you I know of you, I know who you are and that is truly horrible for you.

She giggles playfully and then allows that mirth to turn into a cruel laugh as JoJI begins to fan her with a large banana leaf.

Veronique: You’re confused right now I know it, but I’ll help you out and fill you in on all the details. You see this world of professional wrestling is a strange one to me; it is one I never have paid attention too. But the avenues that my life’s work presents to me are limited at best, martial arts is not prepared for a woman like me, the men in power are scared to embrace me. But this company, the FWA is different…here I saw a woman as beautiful as I am, dripping with caramel and raw sex appeal standing atop all others as Champion. She was looked up to, revered, loved, worshiped, respected, and admired by all. Men fear her as much as they want to go to bed with her.

That is why I am here in the FWA, I want that, but I have neither care nor knowledge of the rest of you. But I know about you Darnell…the walking joke that couldn’t handle being Champion, couldn’t handle being on Fight Night and couldn’t handle being a part of an all-conquering Siege. How pathetic Darnell. You are an embarrassment to my debut, a stain upon the name of Veronique. I will make you squeal your forgiveness and it does not matter what mystery partner of yours crawls from the shadows. They can’t save you…no one can, well no one except that person in your mirror but he’s not good enough.

None of you are, none of you come to close to what I am. Gabrielle is the woman that I admire, the lone person in this world that I truly respect and aspire to better. I have already outclassed all of my trainers, my masters, my sensei’s, my friends, my colleagues…call them what you will I am superior to them all. Now here I am in the FWA where people consider themselves to be the best of the best, they laud themself as being the very best wrestler in the world. I will shatter all these notions in one night; I will break so many hearts in my debut when it is I left standing with a Championship around my waist and sweet little JoJI at my feet.

The Jackal of Juno Incarnate looks upon Veronique slightly puzzled causing her to usher him in closer and ease his trepidation as she softly places her hand against his cheek for a moment.

Veronique: Ce sera un moment glorieux, un nous pouvons tous nous souvenir pour toujours (It will be a glorious moment, one we can all remember for all time) I will stake my place within the hallowed pages of the GaBible. It matters not who stands in my way, those who have hidden their identity are no different than those who have not. Names like Ryan Rondo, Juan Lopez, Adrian Wolf all mean nothing to me. You all may as well have hidden your names from me like others have done. Your lives, your status, your participation in this match is meaningless. Whether you’re Over The Edge, a Cuban Connection, A False Siege, or any other group it doesn’t matter. You can try in vain to better me on the feet and get knocked out for it…you can try to put me on my back and imagine we were in private and you were tearing me from my clothes.

The only name that matters on this night is Veronique. Nobody cares about Xavier, Wolf or Darnell. No one cares about Juan, Joey, Dan or Andrew…it matters not to me that you are friends with Gabrielle. Just as I do not care if Cameron has spent time between Gabrielle’s legs, that does not make you or Ryan important. And Killemall…while you may have flattered me and charmed me the other night…that doesn’t mean that you or Eyes are a threat to me in this match. It is my debut, my night.

I will do everything I have said I would…I will win.

I don’t care about any of you, this match is mine, it is my triumph to be. You might think that all fourteen of you stand in my way as a roadblock but you are all really more of a speed bump at your very best. Bringing Championships into this match doesn’t matter either. I’ve seen those sparkles of gold…that pale in comparison to the gold on my body right now…or the trophy’s I have sitting at home. Some of you can find solace that you dont get the Darnell treatment right now...you should rejoice in the knowledge that you are not a joke but when we're all in that ring everyone but me will be equal.

I am your next FWA World Tag Team Champion, I am Veronique…and the rest of you are not.

She flippantly tosses her hair over her shoulders as she smiles blissfully with a drink in her hand and a banana leaf fanning her.

**Dr Nash** · 01-11-2012, 02:11 AM

• Scene opens up inside a darken room. There is light from a single candle illuminating the room. As a book lies on a table beside the candle with a devil’s arm chair behind it. There is a red pen beside the book. We hear a door creek followed by a huge gust of wind entering the room. The wind blow opens the book and flaps through several pages and then flaps open to the first page before the cover. We see something is written in red ink.

‘December 25th, 2011

Merry Christmas.

That's what people say at Christmas, right?
Except normally they have someone to say it to.
They have friends and family,
And they haven't been crouched naked under a Christmas tree
with a bottle in their hand like an insane person in a mansion in Van Nuys.
They're not out of their minds, they're not writing in a diary,
And they're definitely not watching their holiday spirit coagulate in a aluminum can.
I didn't speak to a single person today.
I thought why should I ruin their ************************************************* Christmas.

I've started a new diary and this time I have a few new reasons.
One, I have no friends left.
Two, so I can read back and remember what I did the day before.
And three, so if I die, at least I leave a nice little suicide note of my life.

It's just me and you, diary. Welcome to my ************************************************* life.

Nobody would believe the shit that happens inside my head, it's haunted.
Now I've come down from my dark passenger in control constantly
it seems like a sick play that I saw in a theatre somewhere.
Thirty minutes ago, I could've killed someone.
Or better yet, myself. ‘

• The sound of the door creaking again is heard. The wind blows in blowing out the single candle. The door closing is heard along with the sound of feet marching. With every step taken we hear sound of splashing of water as the snow is melting off of his boots. We see a figure enter wearing a black leather jacket zipped up He is also wearing black pants and black boots with snow melting off of them. His face is covered with no indication for eyelids or nose or a mouth hole. The figures stares at the camera for several moment before he speaks.

‘Turmoil is a battery essentially creating positive and negative energy. Turmoil brings people together at a time of crisis or need. Or turns everyone they once held so dear upside down. Everything they once stood for no longer makes sense. Everyone was with them has either turned their back against them. Those who were opposed to it can`t even make sense of it. Hell I can`t either. I know the turmoil was needed for a change but where does it begin. My brother is no longer a World Heavyweight Champion standing tall on top of the mountain. I ensured that but the turmoil I prevented has sifted and caused damage that I couldn`t even predict myself. I have….miscalculated a move meant to end him only made him stronger. He now has his own flock and within it the man who brought back from the dead when I buried almost a year ago. That question is answered while several other questions still remain. What is my future given the monster I tried to slain still walks among us strong then before. Also what is this laughter I have heard as of late not to mention two beings wearing a theatre mask of comedy and tragedy. Who are they and what is it they seek from me? I am not out to create ‘new monsters’ nor lead them on their way to achieve whatever they have planed. I have wrong so many it could be from my past but regardless my day from their judgement is soon to come at hand. As for now I wait in the wings watching trying to piece to piece together and find out my future and who I once was before ‘the dark passenger’ was driving in control all this time.’

• The man pulls away the blackened mask revealing with one light blue eye and pure white eye staring at us is Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair. His thick beard still festering becoming larger than before.

Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: So this is what it means to feel? The feeling is familiar of loneliness and discontent with…[*Stu sighs*] sorrow. I am no Grinch nor am I Scrooge just a man who’s legend has eclipsed society from understanding the man within the monster. The fire still burns within and yet I keep ‘the dark passenger’ suffocated. I feel he wants the window to be cracked open so he can still breath. Greater the feeling he wants to behind the wheel and not suffocating in the backseat. So many things changing within a year. Perhaps fate is giving me a chance. Then again I never believe in fate or luck because that’s not the person I am. I believe in strategic planning, logic and of course delivery if you would. However if I am true to what I believe in why am I here? Pondering and questioning myself like a man wondering if life is truly worth living. I have been abandonment written on me from the day I was born and still face that from all around me. While all the same time the sins of the father are passed on their children. Micah feels abandonment like I did. At least my folks were around where as he only has one around him. Mommy tells him daddy is busy right now with more important things than him. I didn’t walk out on him rather wasn’t even there. [*Stu closes his eyes*] His hatred will grow. He excepted him to be there for Christmas morning and there is no sight of him. I’m not in the chimney nor am I under the tree wrapped in paper. Not even a single present there for him. I didn’t let him go I just didn’t want him to end up like…me. [*Stu pauses*] I know a hurting is waiting to occur next time we meet when he wants to talk about why I am not there. I will take the hurt and take it as I have it coming.

• Stu pauses as he places his hands in front of him. He looks at his hands and pauses. He then looks at his diary. He then slowly looks back at the camera.

Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: I begged Zaire Wyoming if the fire was still in there and it was. However I can blame the two in cloaks for distractions but it was I who took my eye off of him. He may have got me with a branding iron but got damn I am still breathing. I may have suppressed ‘the dark passenger’ but I ain’t going die from that. Alexx may have gotten disfigured from my hands but it wasn’t intoxicating as I remember it. Perhaps I am still coming to terms with controlling ‘my dark passenger’ but there is no way Alexx should have pounded on me as hard as he did. Yes I disfigured the billion dollar face of GQ and have it bleed out but it wasn’t there. I would say it’s sloppy on my part but it isn’t. It’s more of my focus is off. All steaming from failing to keep my brother from his forthcoming. I buried him alive and nothing. I hit a DDT on him sending him through the ceiling of the devil’s playground better known as Hell in a Cell. I even from higher up even passes the height Hell in Cell stood I brought him through a glass table. He is still breathing. I can`t contend the beast until I battle the beast within. I need to take steps to get ready to take him down. I am broken and my very existence could be extinguished by the power my brother wields. Misery ruined me and god damn it might be the only thing that might save me. There is no other way I know of. Doubt the combined minds on Crossfire or Fight Night; now under the same roof could help me. I am too far gone. [*Stu smirks and chuckles*] Yet I no call from the illustrious Dr Drew. I don’t need rehab from a drug addiction. Maybe that’s why I am not on his radar. I have been looking on from the shadows learning it was Carmine ‘Grim’ Reaper all this time was the one who prevented me from setting my brother free by bringing him back beyond the grave. His behavior speaks from over a month ago when he refused to shake my hand which is unlike him. Perhaps feeling the pain of Katie being taken from him lead him to become poisoned as well. He is young but should know a knife will stabbing him in the back if I know my brother like I do. Carmine if you are hearing my voice I recommended sleeping with one eye open because not even god or satan knows when he will strike.

• Stu closes his eyes and glares at camera as he pauses.

Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: My brother aims for The FWA World Heavyweight title yet Thomas Princeton isn’t in fear. His Yes Men may tell him that they can beat Wolf when they are telling a lie. Princeton you know something? Your Yes Men couldn’t even tell the truth even to their own mothers. That should make it clear you placed your trust in the wrong type of people. I have been World Heavyweight Champion Four Times I know exactly what I am talking about. It’s going to make more than your pathetic posse to stop him. The same time I look and see him chasing after The FWA Tag Belts in this Tag Team Turmoil match with Xander Xavier Xerxes as a partner. Seems he wants to be the custodian of all the gold. Then I see The Cuban Connection ‘The Venomous’ Juan Lopez and Joey ‘Bones’ Oritz on there. Lopez maybe venomous but he doesn’t have the venom of a snake. Joey’s moniker is fitting because looking at him he is nothing but skin and bones. Hell when he is in the ring with my brother he will want to run out of his skin just to not be in the presence of him. I look at this and I see Cameron Cross the new North American Champion teaming with ‘The Amazing’ Ryan Rondo. When I look at those two I see a bright future. Both wrestlers not afraid to fly or better yet stand their ground and fight. The only question is can they survive their stiff competition in this match. I seen an unknown well make it two. JoJI and Veronica. I know very little outside of a ‘questionable’ relationship with Gabrielle who somehow sleep herself in to power. Regardless of her power she ain’t going to control me. I am no puppet like she is no puppeteer. Veronica maybe the only girl in this match but she is going to realize this no walk in the park when you got hungry wrestlers and a monster craving gold. Willing to destroy and eliminate their competition at any cost. Hope you got your health insurance hun because you’re going to need it.

• Stu smirks as he pauses. His face goes back to serious as he stares at the camera. The sound of the wind blowing against the door is heard.

Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: I look and see we have a mystery team in this match. Could be a platform to succeed or it could be one for them to crash and burn. The only thing that burns more is the fact they can’t even face up and man up letting the world who they are. It’s almost like they are afraid to show us who they are. They could be embarrassed that neither one of them has what it takes to make it. No fire and no passion non existence. All they want in my estimation is bragging rights their names were on a paper view poster and they were advertised to wrestle. Just a waste of ink in my opinion. Now here is a name that sticks out Aut Pax Aut Bellum. Hailed as the best tag team in FWA history. Beyond Vodka and Venom or even Empire X. Longest title reign in history but the question is who did they face? There seems to be lack of or nonexistent competition for them during their long reign. They might be a part of The Great Siege but that doesn’t back up their claim to be the greatest tag team in FWA in the past, present and future. Their association with The Great Siege is merely association and a crutch for them to stand on when they lose their Tag Team Titles yet again. They aren’t hungry nor are they a shell of themselves. To me they were nothing but full of themselves. Never weres in my humblest opinion. [*Stu chuckles then smirks*] Now the last combatant in the turmoil match with a mystery partner. ‘Prime Time’ Darnell Porter. Redemption and pride I sense with him being a part of this match.

• Stu pauses as he closes his eyes. He slowly opens them and continues to speak.

Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: I paid attention when I saw Aut Pax Aut Bellum appear on Crossfire and put Porter down. Calling him a career loser and always coming up short. He was baited and now he is in shark infested waters. In Aut Pax Aut Bellum comfort zone being tag matches. It is no secret that Darnell is a man of pride, respect and honor. Just because he has those principles behind him doesn’t take away of how fierce competitor he is. Without question is the most technical wrestler in the world and no one has proved him wrong. He has submissions and his technical offence. He has great speed and agility. He recently went to Japan to become a better himself and he has. He took Wolf to the limit. Wolf could barely stand in one encounter. The other Carmine screwed him out of getting a shot at the FWA World Heavyweight Title when he had Wolf exactly where he wanted him. I can tell you when I looked at the eyes of my brother in the match on the television screen in front of me I sensed he would have tapped out if he The Prime Time Experience was applied again. You can only push a man so far till he bites and trust me ruthless aggression is written on this man’s face. All I can say is I received one phone call and then we meet. He is the first man to give me a chance in FWA and by god I’m not going to blow it. He called me after Christmas after I didn’t talk to a single person on Christmas and not even try to call [*Stu cringes in sadness*] my son Micah. We had our issues in the past and we had two great matches against each other. He just edged out and beat me in our first encounter but on the second encounter I just edged out in front of him. Him calling me proves there is a such a thing for a second chance and those who give them out. I may have came close putting my brother away. He took him to his limit. By god at Trial by Fire we will take him out PERMANENTLY. He’s primed and I got the target in my sight. We are going to lay the beast to bed and claim the FWA Tag Team Titles. Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair and ‘Prime Time’ Darnell Porter will be all that remains once the smoke clears. See you soon [*Stu pauses*] and brother your Judgment is at hand.

• Stu spreads his arms to the side as the sound of the wind blowing against the door is heard. Then the sound of a crow cawing is heard as the scene slowly fades out.

End of Scene

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