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Post by Vince McMahon on Aug 23, 2012 13:59:33 GMT -5
Thy WWE Presents: Monday Night Raw 84
Venue: Soldier Field in Chicago, Illinois
 The lights dim as we cut to the backstage area. Inside of the Knights locker room, the room is dimly lit. The infamous round table stands in the middle of the room. Twelve seats surround the table. Seven of them are occupied. The Thy WWE Tag Team, Divas and Excalibur championships are strewn across the table. The Knights are clad in dark robes and hoods. A gleam escapes the darkness from the ring that each of them wear. A spotlight shines onto one. He pulls his hood back. The silence breaks
Beno: God make you a good man and fail not of beauty. The Round Table was founded in patience, humility, and meekness.Thou art never to do outrageousity, nor murder, and always to flee treason, by no means to be cruel, and always to do ladies, damosels, and gentle women succour. Also, to take no battles in a wrongful quarrel for no law nor for no world's goods.
A second spotlight shines onto the next night. He too pulls his hood back.
Brian Gunn: Thou shouldst be for all ladies and fight for their quarrels, and ever be courteous and never refuse mercy to him that asketh mercy, for a knight that is courteous and kind and gentle has favor in every place. Thou shouldst never hold a lady or gentle woman against her will.A third light flashes above. He removes the hood Fear: Thou must keep thy word to all and not be feeble of good believeth and faith. Right must be defended against might and distress must be protected. Thou must know good from evil and the vain glory of the world, because great pride and bobauce maketh great sorrow. Should anyone require ye of any quest so that it is not to thy shame, thou shouldst fulfil the desire.The Knights removes his hood as the light shines. Anger: Ever it is a worshipful knights deed to help another worshipful knight when he seeth him a great danger, for ever a worshipful man should loath to see a worshipful man shamed, for it is only he that is of no worship and who faireth with cowardice that shall never show gentleness or no manner of goodness where he seeth a man in any danger, but always a good man will do another man as he would have done to himself.The light shines as the hood falls. Sam Barton: It should never be said that a small brother has injured or slain another brother. Thou shouldst not fail in these things: charity, abstinence and truth. No knight shall win worship but if he be of worship himself and of good living and that loveth God and dreadeth God then else he geteth no worship here be ever so hardly.The smallest of the Knights removes her hood as the spotlight flickers to life. Demmie Mae: An envious knight shall never win worship for and envious man wants to win worship he shall be dishonoured twice therefore without any, and for this cause all men of worship hate an envious man and will show him no favour.The Knights stand and raise their rings to the light. Knights in unison: Do not, nor slay not, anything that will in any way dishonour the fair name of Christian knighthood for only by stainless and honourable lives and not by prowess and courage shall the final goal be reached. Therefore be a good knight and so I pray to God so ye may be, and if ye be of prowess and of worthiness then ye shall be a Knight of the Table Round.”
One final light comes to life. However, the figure does not remove his hood.
 : To ride abroad redressing human wrongs, To speak no slander, no, nor listen to it, To honor his own word as if his god’s, To lead sweet lives in purest chastity, To love one maiden only, And worship her by years of noble deeds.The camera switches and we find ourselves in the main arena where the ring is. Fans going crazy and camera are flashing as the camera is now infront of the two known commentating team. Phil Latio: Who was that last person! Knights are a force to deal with and I am scared for the whole company Don. Don Chuckles: Me aswell but with that done with, let’s move on. Wrestlemania is just around the corner and we are left with more questions than answers. Phil Latio: One thing I want to know is where in the world is the Rumble winner Barton? Don Chuckles: No idea but something I do know is, we have a our first match right now! Jacob Cass vs Cracka! Match 1: Cracka vs. Jacob Cass The titantron lights up with the image of Cracka flashes across the screen as Fight Music by D12 blares over the loud speakers. Blinding lights fill the arena for a few seconds then dim down to reveal Cracka standing at the top of the ramp. Cracka fist pumps the sky then makes his way down the ramp. He interacts with the fans throwing them some gang signs and taking photos with them. Cracka then heads to the ring, slides under the bottom ropes and heads to the turnbuckle. He climbs to the second rope, raises his arm and in approval from the crowd and awaits for his opponent to come out. The lights go out and the opening chords of Resistance to Resillience come over the loud speaker. When the guitar rift come in, Jacob comes out energetically and Runs down the ramp then turns his attention to one of the turnbuckles. The lights come on and he climbs up the turnbuckle and shouts something at the fans before jumping down and settling into his corner to start the match. Phil Latio: I have been looking forward to this match all night. I want to see what Jacob can really do. Don Chuckles: I'm with you there, Phil. The bell rings and Cracka and Jacob lock up in the center of the ring. Jacob rams his head into the forehead of Cracka before ramming his knee into the man's middle. Jacob releases Cracka and steps back as Cracka staggers back and falls to his back. Jacob stomps on the downed Cracka after the third stomp Cracka grabs Jacob's foot and jerks it hard, while rolling onto his side. Jacob falls back and smacks into the mat hard, winding him. Cracka gets back to his feet breathing heavy from the hard blows delivered by Jacob. Cracka steps back as Jacob pulls himself to his feet. Jacob gets in Cracka's face and the two men stare each other down. Cracka and Jacob lock up in a test of strength but it doesn't last long as Jacob kicks Cracka repeatedly in the shin. Jacob shoves Cracka into the corner before charging him. Cracka gets out of the way causing Jacob to collide with the turnbuckle. Cracka grabs Jacob and hits him with a belly to back piledriver. Cracka pulls Jacob up to his feet. Jacob manages to shake Cracka's last blow off enough to block him from setting up another one. Jacob stumbles out of Cracka's hold and backs away, leaning against nearby ropes. Cracka watches Jacob for a moment before charging in and hitting Jacob with a clothesline using his right arm. There is a slight metallic sound from the connection. Jacob grips his jaw where the majority of the clothesline connected. Cracka pulls Jacob off the ropes and whips him into the ropes on the opposite side of the ring. Jacob bounces of the ropes and Cracka charges in. Jacob manages to duck the clothesline attempt from Cracka. Jacob moves his foot out a bit causing Cracka to trip and smack into the mat. Jacob stumbles forward but manages to stop before he collides with the other set of ropes. Cracka pulls himself up from the mat floor looking a little perturbed about being tripped. Jacob turns and sees a charging Cracka. Jacob gets out of the way of Cracka's charge and turns and kicks the man in the back. Jacob grabs Cracka around the head and hits him with a DDT. Jacob pulls himself back up to his feet and takes a bit of a breather as Cracka recovers on the ground. Cracka slowly gets back to his feet, now Jacob is ready to keep going. The two men glare at each other and lock up hand over shoulder. They ram their shoulders into each other's before Jacob manages to get the upper hand and hits Cracka with and over the shoulder suplex. Jacob stomps on the downed Cracka again before going to the ropes. Jacob climbs to the top turnbuckle and stands there as Cracka starts to stir. Jacob jumps off and hits connects with a moonsault on Crack. Jacob goes for a pin. 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Cracka kicks out! Both men get back to their feet. Cracka breathing much heavier then he was before. Jacob looks out of breath as well but in a little better shape than Cracka at this point. Cracka charges in and hits Jacob with a hard spear but instead of taking him down to the ground both men go into the ropes. Jacob grabs onto the ropes and flips himself over them, bringing Cracka up with him using his legs and throwing the man into the barricade on the outside of the ring. Jacob drops down to the concrete. He walks over to Cracka and pulls the man up thrusting Cracka's head into the metal bar of the barricade. Jacob whips Cracka into the outside of the ring and charges in ramming his knee into Cracka's midsection as the referee starts the ten count. 1 . . . Jacob drags Cracka over to the ringside stairs. Jacob lifts Cracka up and throws him into the metal stairs. Cracka crashes to the ground. 2 . . . 3 . . . . . Jacob pulls Cracka up again, this time Cracka starts to fight back. Cracka hits Jacob with a couple forearms using his right arm. Cracka pulls out of Jacob's grip and manages to pull himself back into the ring. Jacob follows him. Cracka turns and stomps on Jacob's hand trying to keep the man out of the ring. Jacob pulls his hand out of the way just in time going to another part of the ring and sliding in. Cracka charges Jacob the second the man stands up fully and hits him with his shoulder. Jacob slams into the ropes but grabs Cracka around the middle. Cracka struggles out of Jacob's hold and manages to step away. Jacob aims a boot to Cracka's chest but the man steps back again. Jacob moves closer and Cracka quickly grabs Jacob around the head dragging him to the corner. Jacob struggles in the side head lock and Cracka slams his elbow into Jacob's spine. Cracka climbs to the second turnbuckle and pulls Jacob up with him before hitting a gutwrench powerbomb on the man. Cracka tumbles off the turnbuckle as well but quickly recovers and goes for a pin. 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . Jacob kicks out! Jacob pulls himself to his feet after Cracka. Jacob and Cracka stand still both men breathing heavily. The referee looks between them taking a step back as the two men suddenly charge each other. Cracka gets his arms around Jacob first but Jacob manages to get Cracka's hands off him and get Cracka turned around and locked into a full nelson. Jacob hesitates for a moment holding Cracka in the full nelson as Cracka tries to struggle out of the hold. Jacob hits Cracka with a full nelson back breaker. Jacob goes for a pin. 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . Cracka kicks out! Jacob slams the mat in frustration and stands up. He kicks Cracka in the side before aiming a stomp to the man's face. Cracka rolls out of the way and gets back to his feet. Jacob charges and grabs the man around the middle Cracka lays forearms into the back of Jacob's head. Jacob staggers back as Cracka falls back into the ropes. Don Chuckles: I think both men are at their breaking point. Cracka shoves himself off the ropes as Jacob stands straight. Cracka charges at Jacob who manages to move out of the way and grab him from behind, hooking his arms around Cracka's shoulders. Jacob hits a double underhook backbreaker on Cracka. Jacob shoves Cracka off his knee and onto the mat. Jacob stomps on the back of Cracka and wraps him up in the B.S.E . Phil Latio: This is going to be over if Cracka can't get to the ropes. Cracka shouts in pain and throws out his hand to the ropes. He sees that they just out of his reach but tries harder to reach them. Jacob throws on more pressure doing his best to pull Cracka away from the ropes just enough so the man gives up hope of reaching them. Cracka strives for the ropes pulling against Jacob will all his might, his finger tips barely brush against the ropes. Jacob pulls harder on the hold, cranking up the pressure. Cracka lunges again and grabs a hold of the bottom rope. Don Chuckles: I don't believe it Cracka got the ropes! Phil Latio: No way, Jacob is forced to release him from his submission! The referee begins the count as a disbelieving Jacob releases the hold. Jacob gets back to his feet and kicks Cracka in the stomach multiple times. The referee yells at him and Jacob glares at the official. Cracka manages to pull himself up to his feet. He hit Jacob with a hard forearm and Jacob staggers back. Cracka steps away from the ropes and grabs Jacob around the head. Jacob slams his knee into the hip of Cracka, breaking the man's hold on him. Jacob drives his boot into the middle of Cracka and Cracka staggers back into the ropes. Don Chuckles: How these two men are fighting after all this I will never know. Jacob hits Cracka with a chop before hefting him up and hitting Cracka with a DDT. Jacob gets back to his feet and pulls Cracka up. Cracka rams his shoulder into the chest of Jacob causing the man to stagger back. Jacob growls and grabs Cracka around the head and rams his knee into the stomach of Cracka over and over. Jacob shoves Cracka back and Cracka stumbles to a stop. Jacob lunges at Cracka grabbing him and lifting him into a dominator position. Cracka struggles in the hold Jacob slams Cracka down with a Brainbuster. Cracka hits the mat hard and Jacob moves on top of Cracka hooking the leg for the pin. 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 Winner - Jacob Cass
Phil Latio: Wow, what a way to open the show Don! Don Chuckles: Cass looked great and earned himself his first win! --------------------------Don't Reply------------------------- |
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Post by Vince McMahon on Aug 23, 2012 14:02:11 GMT -5
Phil Latio: Up next we have John Morrison going head to head with non other than Jamine Creed! Match 2: John Morrison vs. Jamine Creed Steve Cruise: This next Contest is scheduled for one fall!
Introducing first from Phoenix Arizona weighing in at 223 pounds... he is Jamine Creed!!!!Jamine Creed exits the curtain & walks down the ramp with no shirt on & his wrestling tights just taunting the fans with his body, knowing that's he facing someone with a simular "ab-tastic" body as his... he climbs through the ropes & screams "Morrison'a little bitch & can't win the big one!" before hearing the announcer intrroduce his opponent....Steve Cruise: Introducing his opponent.... from Los Angeles California, weighing in at 215 pounds... John Morrison! Ain't No Make Believe hit the PA System & John Morrison walks out in his fur jacket of white & does his modelish taunt before getting praised by the fans... he gives a girl his shades & smiles at her before sliding in the ring. Ding! Ding! Ding! The bell rings as Creed & Morrison stare each other down in deadlock before doing the tie & elbow collar-up. Creed would try to get the upper hand by gyrating his hips but Morrison used it to kick him in the gut & hit Moonlight Drive successfully without hesitation. He would then stomp a mudhole in his abdomen before hitting Starship Pain. It was like a field day for Morrison because Creed felt just weak, lazy & restless... Morrison turned him over & put him in a double boston Crab for the submission victory as Creed just taps out. Winner: John Morrison via submission!Phil Latio: Well that was a quick match. Don Chuckles: Nothing like the first but a win is a win I guess. It was Monday Night Raw & the ruckus crowd in Chiacgo's Soldier field were just coming off of seeing John Morrison defeat Jamine Creed in quick but stunning fashion.
Steve Cruise would stand in the center of the ring as the fans quieted down....{Steve Cruise}: Ladies & Gentlemen... at this time allow me to introduce the former Thy WWE Heavyweight Champion of the World.... Accompanied by AJ Lee.... he is "The Prodigy" Kurt Orton!As we walked down the ramp, the fans held up saying that I still got it or I can do it one more time... it was deeply taken into consideration as AJ climbed through the ropes gently after I did.The duo grabbed a mic & sat in the center of the ring, waiting for the fans to die down so he can speak.{"Prodigy"} K.Orton: As we sit here in the center of the ring, looking out at the cult, all of our peeps... We realized something... I realized that last week was my failing point because I was not focused on the task at hand.... It was supposed to be me getting exact revenge on Bob Cena after the show but guess what the higher powers do... theuy put me on Live to fight the aging days of Bret Hart & the fake in the world CM Punk!
& it's not fair but everything changes for the better... the worse can thicken deeper but Bob will realize that at Mania when he faces Barton & loses.... then when it's all said & done... he will realize that being the "Best in The World" has it's limits.Orton would crack his neck slowly & calm himself down with a simple count of 10 knowing what he's about to get himself into as the fans continue to let him speak out.Does no one not understand how dumb you sound Cena... "Best in the World" ... I don't care what the hell you did to get that... but it damn sure wasn't beating me & you wanna know why... it's 5 simple letters.... help me out peeps & AJ if you know this.
F L U K E !
That's what it is Bob & until you beat Barton at Wrestlemania... I will be watching wherever I am to hear you admit it... the day you do admit it is when I strike... you interfere in my wedding though... it will be hell to pay! & IF YA DON'T KNOW... NOW YA KNOW!AJ now lifts the mic up to her mouth as K rests his head down to listen to her.{"Prodigy's Princess"} AJ Lee: Demmi... Oh Demmi... your probably seeing me & my warrior of a boyfriend sitting here in the center of this ring... thinking why would I speak or why would I talk only because i'm a catchphrase sayer for K.... well I'm not i'm a diva... A wrestling diva & not something you try to pass of as you dumb bitch! Give this message to the rest of your mates.
If you dare as so lay one hand on me, K, Randy, Jericho or Cass... we will be forced without hesistation & regret to kick your asses from one side of the backstage area to the other because point blank... your scared of me Demmi & you can't anwser my challenge because you know that your afraid mamacita.... afraid of what a beautiful princess klike me can do to a bottom-feeding, scumbag, trashbag waste o a whore like you!
Well here's what I propose... next week Live here on Raw we have a Lumberjack match.... all 5 kinghts on one side... all 4 of K's crew on the other.... so you can finnally prove to me once and for all that your the HBIC (Head Bitch in Charge ) here at Thy WWE & if the peeps or my baby boy don't mind me saying this....K & AJ stand up together to say the catchphrase together in unison...
It's because that's.... HOW WE ROLL!Orton & AJ exit the ring holding hands, walking up the ramp as the camera pans over to Don Chuckles & Phil Latio.Phil Latio: I wanna know how AJ rolls. Don Chuckles: Come on Phil! This is a family show! Keep your hand out of your pants! -----------------------Don't Reply------------------ |
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Post by Vince McMahon on Aug 23, 2012 14:12:33 GMT -5
Phil Latio: Sorry Don. Up next we have a triple threat match. We have returning Joey the Bastard taking on Lance Mercer and Jacob Senn in a triple threat match! Match 3 : Joey The Bastard vs Lance Mercer vs "The Saviour" Jacob Senn
Steve Cruise: This contest is scheduled for one fall.... Introducing first from the streets of Vancouver, British Columbia Canada & weighing in at 227 pounds... he is Joey... The Bastard! Joey would walk out of the curtain & down the ramp, slapping hands with his fans & smirking before doing some taunting & entering the ring, just kindly but anxiously waiting on the opponent of choosing. Steve Cruise: From Sin City...Las Vegas Nevada, weighing in at 230 pounds.... he is Lance Mercer! Lance steps out of the curtain next & walks down the ramp & as fans try to touch him, he backs away & tries not to feel their germs on his fresh attire, he stares at Joey & smirks evily before stepping in the ring. Steve Cruise: And the final opponent... from New York City... weighing in at 247 pounds.... he is "The Saviour"... Jacob Senn! The spotlight shines on Jacob Senn & he walks down the ramp in a god like position, proving to the sheep he calls the Thy WWE Universe that is he what his moniker deemed him to be... he stares at the other two opponents and flips them the bird before doing some taunts & entering the ring. Ding! Ding! Ding! The bell rings as the trio would stare down each other, Jacob would flip the bird again to Joey now & Joey would hit a right hand to Lance while Senn ducked the attempt... JTB tried to go for Senn but was caught with a dropkick from Lance who saw Senn just not caring about the task at hand. Senn wold begin to work on The Bastard in the corner with a few muai thay kicks to the ribs and taunt to all the fans before doing some more... though Lance would get in the way and begin to stomp out JTB which got Jacob mad and he would wait quietly in the corner,letting Lance get his time to shine. Lance would continue to stomp JTB out until Senn gets bored on his phone & hits Lance with the Judgement, knocking him unconcsious for the time being... Senn goes for the pin on Mercer until he kicks out.... Ref: 1.... 2... Kick-out! As JTB realizes it, he also hits The Skrewdriver on Mercer before Senn tries to hit a forearm into the face of Joey after the connection. The forearm made it's connection as blood dripped slowly from Joey's nose... he would begin to change gears and blast Senn with right & left hands to the jaw. Lighting fast those punches were as Jacob tried to block... JTB hit a few hard kicks to the ribs and puts him up on the top turnbuckle for the NISD (New Improved Stage Dive) Senn would be the smart guy & counter by kicking him in the mouth, jumping off the turnbuckle & hitting the Judgement rendering JTB knocked for Senn to pin him. Ref: 1.... 2.... Kick-out! Senn quickly got pissed off & tried for a second one, slowly grabbing Joey by the hawk and as he was being a carrer-ender in some sorts... JTB would gouge Senn in the eyes & go for the NISD once again & soon gets the 3 count. Ref: 1.... 2.... 3!! Winner: JTB via PinfallPhil Latio: Nice match here. Joey The Bastard is back and looks better than ever! Don Chuckles: I agree but let's get this commercial break over with. We will be right back! COMMERCIAL BREAK
----------------------------------------------------------------------- Pain, it means you’re not completely numb and there’s something still inside. Something so blatant and obnoxious, and it’s something you can’t hide. It means there is something that’s still trying to live in you, It means that there is still something you have left to do. Pain, something so controversial, it seems to only do bad. Pain, it means you are still alive, it means you miss what you had. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Kenneth Walker sat in his General Manager office contemplating to himself and thinking of what Austin Star said to him that day he asked him to challenge him. Kenneth Walker: Why old friend. I gave you everything didn’t I. Why deny my this one last request from an old friend. I gave you a new start, a new life. I gave you the life I had that I gave up. The life that I had with Lilly and know she’s yours and now I sit here with this final slap to the face with this letter that comes to me sitting here on this desk. A simple piece of paper that shows your resignation as General Manager. Is this the final low blow, showing me that you how much you mean you won’t give me one last time in the ring if nothing more then a simple battle of old friend having one last send off under the lime lights Thinking of the possiblitiy of one last match I try and capture what it is that seeps through and hold on fast to those thoughts. But, like whippet lightening they are gone, stolen before I can breathe them in and savour or even have the luxury of making my mind up. Floods of emotions run threw and the well is filled up. I ache and look for solace but stark contrasts and I see myself alone in the ring, empty and void of life, just waiting to die and ultimately rot. I shut the floodgates and ponder some more, half willing, half torn and half led like a reluctant horse to drinking water. Do I have to stand in the ring alone will or will an stubburn old friend fulfill one last request. Kenneth Walker: I long have this one last battle with you old friend and lose myself in this idea of having one last match despite the outcome or what it may cause. Am I asking for to much. I pull out my hand to you and wait. Time reaps it’s own rewards and leaves me waiting and watching for the fragement of hope that you’ll change your mind and accept. Hope.. but it keeps floating away doesn’t it… outward and away… just like everything else floats away from me. It always does. Everything I’ve known and loved has floated away from me. Except one thing. There is still one thing I love that has not yet escaped my grasp. That is my love for professional wrestling. Tears start to swell up in ken’s eyes as he speaks from the heart thinkingto him self. How many battles have I fought. Battles that meant nothing. I prepare myself for the minutes that define my emotions, my actions, and myself. Can one man find himself to give another a second chance and just thing about what he’s going to say. Will he be patient as he comes up with his final answer. I break myself down at every given moment as I contemplate what Star would decide. Can he decide that I’m even worth the effort. My head starts hurting as I search for some asprin to ease the pain. My hand tremble as I search threw the draws and pop open a bottle and down the pill. Kenneth Walker: Is this how’s it’s supposed to happen. Is this how the journey is supposed to end. Was this destiny. Does this road lead down nothing but disappointment. Tell me Starr how will this story of us end. Will it simply just end an old friend with an outstretched hand only to be left abandoned. Because The clock is ticking, and there’s only so many times that it’ll tick until our time runs out. The camera fades to black and we are back with Phil Latio and Don Chuckles. Phil Latio: Some words there from Ken. He truly has been great for Thy WWE over the year. ------------------------------Don't reply-------------------------------
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Post by Vince McMahon on Aug 23, 2012 14:33:39 GMT -5
The arena is buzzing with excitement. Then it hits, the theme of the greatest face that ever belonged to Thy WWE. "The plot to bomb the panhandle". The crowd pops, everyone is screaming. Sparks show down from the top of the titan tron as out walks a long haired, bearded man. He pauses at the top of the ramp looking out at the crowd grinning before throwing his right hand into the air and giving the crowd his signature horns taunt. He slowly walks down the ramp. Slapping hands and singing along to his theme. He reaches half way down the ramp. Stops and looks around before sprinting to the ring and rolling in. He bounces around, remember the feel of canvas beneath his feet. He spins around, his arms stretched out to either side of him. He climbs a turn buckle, slapping his chest and throwing them the horns taunt again, before repeating the process on the opposite turnbuckle. He jumps down into the ring, before leaning against the ropes toward the announce table. He points down to a tech who throws him a mic which he catches easily. He turns back to the crowd, slowly walking back to the centre of the ring. His music cuts out and he smiles to the crowd. "God damn, I haven't heard a pop like that in a good few years. Well yes, that's right guys. Jonny "The Rockstar" Freeman has come back. Not for weekly matches I'm afraid but management have missed me. I mean I am "Mr. Pay Per View" and what a better time for me to comeback, then on the road to Mania Three!"He scratches his nose, chuckling to himself as the whole crowd cheered "Rockstar, Rockstar, Rockstar!" "You know, I'm never going to be able to find anything else that is more amazing then walking down that ramp in front of you all."The crowd erupt again, not stopping their chants of "We love you Jonny". He smiles to himself. "I remember coming here just off the cuff of SCW, a place I helped build and I walked into fame and glory when I eventually joined the roster here, I walked the halls of this place as someone who was respected, as someone who was loved. I stood up before you all and I, I wanted to show you. I wanted to how you that I was good enough."His voice broke. He wiped away a tear and continued. "I remember, I came out here every week and I did my shows for you. I did them only for you. You people in the arena, you people at home. you people in the back. I tried to be everything for you. I let you down."
He bowed his head before saying into the mic. "It started when I lost the tag titles with Raven. I was so angry. I turned on him and I beat him. I stood by and watched Society put him out. I should have known then that it was the start of my failure."He looks up into the crowd tears trailing down his cheeks. The crowd were still cheering his name, women were crying, kids were pointing at him asking their brothers or sisters who he was, the new generation knew nothing of his history. Of who he was. "I became a champion by default, a way I never wanted to become a champion. I held that belt for all of you because I thought, even if I didn't deserve it. I'd make sure I lived up to it's name. I watched as Robin forced my hand into facing him. We fought like gods. It'll be the single greatest moment of my career and honestly. I thought that was it. Me and my greatest rival. Toe to toe. Then after I won, I finally thought I was worthy of that title and then Sheamus came out. Booted me in the face and I was sparked out completely."He sighed. "Thing is, I returned, my head wasn't in the game and I lost to Sheamus, I became a sort of laughing stock. I was nothing to this federation anymore, to some of the fans. I'm hardly even remembered but to the ones who do remember. I want you to know, I did this all for you. I did this to be you cha-"Suddenly Jonny broke off. The titan tron changed and suddenly the one face Jonny never expected to see again walked out onto the stage. Bleed for Me by Saliva begins to play slowly off the P.A system. We see non other than Blade LaVigne appear on the stage. The Thy fan base is shocked and from the expression on Jon's face shows he is as well. Blade dressed in random street clothes as he has microphone in his hands. He slowly brings it to his mouth and begins to speak. LaVigne:
Long time no see Jon.
You seem surprised to see me. You have such whiteness in your face, looks like you just saw a ghost. Now, I am sorry to cut you off but you're girly speech was getting on my nerves truly. Thy universe, don't listen to this coward. The man who see in the ring right now deserves nothing that comes his way.
Jon Freeman is ass kisser. Don't believe me, go watch some film on SCW. He kissed his way to the top and earned nothing. When guys like myself worked week in and week out for everything we earned.
I was pushed aside because of guys like Jon Freeman. Don't let them lie to you guys, Austin Starr, Jon Freeman and others cheated their way to the top and I was stuck on the bottom looking up.
I am not here to insult you no. I am here to give you a message. A special message. You see, Blade LaVigne will enter the ring one last time.
.....
At Wrestlemania 3, I will show Thy WWE that I deserves much more than I recieved....At Wrestlemania, my opponent will be non other than...
.......
YOU!Blade cocks a smirk and drops the microphone. Jon kinda smiles but Blade enters the back as the show goes to commercial. COMMERCIAL Don Chuckles: Blade LaVigne and Jon Freeman at Wrestlemania 3! Phil Latio: I can't wait for that one Don! It should be a classic! Don Chuckles: Up next we have our main event! Jamie Moorefield and IC champion Stalker Knight will go head to head. Phil Latio: But first, may everyone look up at the big screen! It is time to announce the second Hall of Fame inductee! On the screen we see a count down. 10 . . . 9 . . . . . 8 Don Chuckles: Who could it be!? 7 . . . . 6..........5......... Phil Latio: I'm guessing D-Lo! 4 . . . . . 3 . . . . . . 2 . . . 1!  Don Chuckles: Wow! Former World champion Maven! Phil Latio: This is great Don! ------------------------Don't Reply-------------------------------- |
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Post by Vince McMahon on Aug 23, 2012 14:50:31 GMT -5
We’re all to Blame by Sum 41 comes pouring out of the Sound System as the crowd rises for the Royal Rumble winner, Barton. Phil Latio: Well that isn't Jamie Moorefield nor Stalker Knight! Don Chuckles: No, its the Rumble winner Barton! Barton comes down to the ring in jeans and his usual black leather jacket. He takes in the sights around him and walks down the middle of the ramp and climbs the steps, and makes his way into the ring, he raises his hands to the crowd, causing the ovation to grow louder for Barton. Barton tidies his hair slightly before asking for a microphone, which he receives almost immediately. Waiting for the emotion to die down, Barton raises the microphone to his lips. “Now, I know I haven’t been seen that much since the Royal Rumble, but, well now I’m back, and if I recall correctly, there have been... Some incidents since I’ve been gone,” Barton scratches the back of his neck before continuing to speak, “There have been incidents like the attempted attack on my friend Anger, an addition to the Knights of the Round Table, and the tag title defence with Beno and FEAR,” Barton lowers the microphone as a serious look approaches his face. “But, there is one incident what I would like to personally address and that is my WrestleMania match. You see, the thing is, I expected to face the winner of the World Title at Ascension, but instead I’m facing a good friend of mine, the Professor of Thuganomics, Bob Cena. Now, I have no problem with that, in fact, he is one of the few people I would rather face at Mania, but the thing that really got to me, is that how the former champion is just bitching and bitching about him getting a rematch, and how Bob won the title in a fluke win,” Barton looks around, finding the right combinations of words to say, “Now, I know I’ve said that I lost due to luck multiple times, but the thing is, there is no such thing as a fluke win, there is no such thing as luck, when you lose, you lose because you weren’t ready, you lose because you weren’t in the right mind set, or in the case in of KO, you lose because you’re opponent was better than you that night, I’ve known Bob ever since he stepped into this company, since he became the other half of the tag team champions with me, we’ve remained friends throughout our time in Thy, even when Bob was in Eternal and I was part of resistance, we still remained friends. And I know that when he won the World Title, it is one of the happiest days of his life. But the day, in KO’s mind, was shrouded in controversy, he believes he should’ve never lost the title,” Lowering the microphone once more, Barton looks around him, inspecting the crowd, “That, KO, makes me sick,” The volume of Barton’s voice begins to raise to a shout. “It was your fault you lost Kurt, no-one else’s, just yours, and now, you think can just walk around demanding a rematch, causing a scene just because you lost, I refuse to let that happen, do you want to know why? Because you do not deserve a fucking rematch, if you half-ass a match, you deserve everything you get, you deserve to lose, you deserve to no longer be called, the World Champion, while Bob on the other hand, he deserves to be called the World Champion, he has earned the right to hold that belt, and nothing that you say will ever change the outcome. Another thing that really... that really annoys me about this, is how you managed to acquire two weak minded individuals to accompany you, and to follow you in your plight to get a rematch, and to try to take out, you see, you could get more people, you could get the General Managers Austin Starr and Kenneth Walker, you could get the ‘boss’ Vince McMahon, hell, you could get the whole fucking Government if you can, but you will never take out the Knights and you will never change what has happened. You can bitch and moan every day of the week, but nothing will change, you will never get that title rematch, and it doesn’t matter if I have anyone to help me or not, you will never in your life, come within a few feet of that title, ever again.” Barton drops the microphone and looks around as the camera fades to black and the show goes to one last commercial break! COMMERCIAL BREAK!
People border on insanity when in the pursuit of that which matters most to them. Lovers stand in the rain, athletes tolerate the strain and fighters transcend the pain. What is the significance of attaining a Thy title beyond the hysteria brought on by all the bright lights and the vanity of seeing your own reflection tinged the delicate hue of championship gold? Why do men bear hardship so they can wear a piece of shiny paraphernalia? Success. Ambition. Glory. A belt is a status symbol, a commemoration of grit and determination, ultimately achieved by an inspired performance. A championship belt feeds ambition; competitors yearn for it so they can galvanise their own reputations. A championship belt is significant because it surpasses the status of a mere glittering trinket, it communicates respect and excellence. That’s why men wrangle on the microphone and overlook the painful welts mottling their flesh every week; because when an object can fulfil your greatest dream, no victory is a Pyrrhic victory and no action is reprehensible. Two men step into the ring tonight to engage in battle, one a champion, already sealed in gold, the other a challenger, who will fight with tooth and nail to receive that distinction; both at opposite sides of the spectrum but locked in a struggle for the same prize. Tonight they will go all out, because when a belt means this much, even the mere opportunity of garnering one merits all of a mortal man’s vigour.
Main Event: Jamie Moorefield vs Stalker Knight (c) (Non Title)
Subsequent to a brief video package highlighting some of Stalker Knight’s reign and Jamie Moorefield’s return to Thy WWE, the broadcast flips back to the live feed of the arena, depicting Steve Cruise standing confidently inside of the ring, holding a microphone.
Steve Cruise: This next bout is set for one fall and is tonight’s main event! General Manager Starr has also affixed a stipulation to this match which states that if Jamie Moorefield can pin Stalker Knight, he’ll earn himself a guaranteed Intercontinental Title shot next week!
A curt round of applause fizzles around the stands as the fans are reminded of the implications they were already aware of surrounding the main event.
Don Chuckles: Alright folks, it’s time for tonight’s main event!
Phil Latio: No disrespect to the other guys, but I’ve been looking forward to this one all night!
Don Chuckles: And with good reason Phil, if Moorefield can defeat Stalker in this ring tonight, he’ll secure an Intercontinental Championship match next week.
Phil Latio: And we both know how hard those are to come by, especially mere days away from the most momentous occasion in any wrestling fans calendar: Wrestlemania!
Don Chuckles: The third instalment of that prolific event no less, but let’s not get too ahead of ourselves – or I might die of anticipation! Right now, it’s all about these two highly talented competitors and the prestigious title that they’re tussling for, held by the likes of Brian Gunn, Jacob Senn and Dominic Reynolds in the past.
Suddenly, the announcers’ blithesome discourse is interrupted by the hiss of a drum set’s snare as the preliminary seconds of Jay-Z and Alicia Keys’ iconic “Empire State of Mind” begins to ring out through the arena, eliciting a vivacious reaction from the abounding Thy WWE crowd.
Phil Latio: Ok Don, your little history lesson can end right there! The folks at home are interested in one thing, and one thing only at the moment, the momentous contest they’re about to witness!
Following an ephemeral period of supporting cheers from the fans, accentuated by their own impatience, the chiselled frame of Jamie Moorefield appears upon the stage, drawing resounding applaud. But Jamie seems unaware of it, his eyes awash with focus, his brow furrowed and knotted with steely determination, and his bronze skin pervaded by veins thick with adrenaline. With a long exhale, Moorefield advances, his movements almost instinctual as the camera pans in on his game face, filled with resolve.
Don Chuckles: Wow, Moorefield is really the image of determination tonight! Prepare yourselves for a gritty contest tonight between two unyielding competitors!
Phil Latio: Hey, don’t write Knight off so soon Donny-boy, do you see a belt around Moorefield’s waist?
Don Chuckles: Uh…
Phil Latio: No! Stalker is champ for a because he earned it, and I expect him to demonstrate why tonight.
Don Chuckles: Well Jamie had to get this match for a reason. In my opinion he’s been extremely impressive of late….and he fully deserves this match!
Phil Latio: Well, if you want my two cents, if your opinion were reality Don, the world would be a scary place to live.
Before an incensed Chuckles can retort his colleague, the commanding voice of Steve Cruise booms around the arena as he formally introduces Moorefield to the capacity crowd.
Steve Cruise: Approaching the ring from New York City, standing at six-foot-five inches and weighing in at two-hundred-and-seventy pounds, JAMIE MOOREFIELD!
The fans laud Moorefield with more support following Cruise’s announcement as the New York native ascends the glimmering steel steps up to the stainless white mat of the ring, enclosed by the signature crimson ropes, which bob up and down invitingly as Moorefield firmly plants his foot upon the apron.
Don Chuckles: Many men have entered the squared circle here in Thy WWE, and I find it interesting to observe how they get into said ring as it’s often denotative of their character. Legends such as Alex Kendall and Johnny Freeman always emanated an aura of reverence around the ring, whereas the bashful demeanour of the likes of Jacob Senn is often betrayed by his uncaring way of entering the ring.
Phil Latio: You’re too proper, Don! The way I’ve always looked at wrestling is: get it done in the ring any way you can. A win is a win and nothing if off limits, to hell with respect. Wrestling is about championships, and if Stalker feels the need to rake the eyes or if his kick happens to find the groin, so what?
Don Chuckles: You’re despicable! Stalker is above that sort of thing!
Moorefield flares his nostrils as he stands adjacent to Steve Cruise, flexing his powerful shoulders and breathing heavy as he enters the concluding stages of his pre-match routine. With the stoppage of the chart-topping “Empire State of Mind”, a deathly silence falls over the arena, a silence pregnant with anticipation and brewing applause for the man the fans know is inevitably going to emerge with the Intercontinental Championship slung over his shoulder: Stalker Knight.
Don Chuckles: And now the bite of anticipation sinks deeper as we await the presence of Stalker Knight.
Phil Latio: A lot of guys underestimate the effectiveness of simple mind games like making your opponent wait for a match. When you can string enough minor annoyances together it can really inhibit your opponent inside the ring.
Eventually the cold tone of a gong reverberates around the arena and several orchestral pieces meld together, acting as the forerunner of Stalker Knight, who eventually steps out into the fray, clasping his Intercontinental Championship, which gleams as it sits on his tall frame.
Don Chuckles: And here he is!
Upon witnessing Stalker’s arrival, the fans explode into life as the collective excitement for the imminent bout and their love of Stalker flows into one and burns in their lungs, waiting to burst forth as cheers. But despite the lively response, Stalker’s gait is focused but assured as he traverses the modern, high-tech landscape of a polished walkway illuminated by expensive lighting and filled with a handful of crew members wielding a camera.
Phil Latio: Look at the ignorance, this guy gets cheered by the fans and he ignores them!
Don Chuckles: He’s not ignoring them! He acknowledged the fans, but he’s focusing on his upcoming match.
Phil Latio: Some would call that arrogance, Don.
Don Chuckles: And some would call it confidence!
Phil Latio: You know, the more I work with you the more I think you have some sort of agenda, Don.
Don Chuckles: …
Once again the authoritative tone of Steve Cruise prevents Chuckles from responding to his heckling colleague.
Approaching the ring from Vancouver British Colombia, Canada and standing at six-foot-eight inches and weighing in at two-hundred-and-forty pounds, STALKER KNIGHT!
Stalker appears contented with being addressed by his name in front of millions of viewers worldwide with the illustrious Intercontinental Championship nestled into his broad shoulder.
Phil Latio: I think he has an ego problem, Don, look at that smirk! He loves hearing his own name. Well, no more than you I suppose…
Don Chuckles: What’s that supposed to mean?!
Stalker betrays his determined thoughts with a steely glare as he surmounts the steel steps with long legs and then enters the ring all in one fluid motion before shooting upright out of his bent over position, hoisting the Intercontinental Championship high above his head, evoking yet another wave of positive noise from the capacity crowd.
Don Chuckles: Both of these guys are so admired by the fans I think there may be some division during the match.
Phil Latio: A great wrestler once said: “To be the man you’ve got to beat the man”. Well right now Stalker is “the man” and that’s proven by gold – so there’s no need for him to concern himself with the redundant reaction of the public.
Don Chuckles: Even still, the support of thousands will always bolster your confidence.
Phil Latio: If Stalker was smart he’d kick Moorefield between the legs and then brutalise him with a chair! Then he’d mop him up next week in the title match.
Don Chuckles: Well not everyone is as smart as you…
With his momentary period of glory over, Stalker lowers his belt and relinquishes it to the match official and rolls his strong arms in a wide arc, loosening the joints in his shoulders for what he knows will be a tough match.
Don Chuckles: It looks like we’re ready to go!
Moorefield and Stalker engage in a protracted stare-down as they assess each others’ will power and deliberate over their preliminary actions. But just as the referee’s muscles tighten to raise his arm and signal for the bell the blare of more theme music interrupts his motion and a surprised hiss of breath escapes his lungs as the other members of The Knights march out in unison.
Don Chuckles: What are they doing here?!
Phil Latio: There’s nothing wrong with some extra spectators at ringside, eh Don?
Don Chuckles: You know damn well that these guys bring trouble with them wherever they go, this stinks of some sort of impending misdemeanour.
Phil Latio: These guys bring entertainment! I can’t wait to see what they have in store for this match.
The Knights all wear an austere expression as they traverse the entrance ramp and swarm the ring like a torrent of muscular frames. The deep crevasses in their foreheads and their pursed lips betray the anxious disposition of Moorefield and Knight, but nonetheless they stand their ground for dignity, regardless of their pained expressions.
Don Chuckles: This can’t be good for these two men. The Knights could smack one of these guys around and effectively choose a winner and it won’t matter because the contest hasn’t officially begun!
Phil Latio: Genius!
Slowly, like an amoeba encasing a bacterium with its pseudopodia, the Knights form a loop around the ring, sealing off any escape routes. Having done this, Brian Gunn and Anger exchange an understanding nod and both hoist themselves onto the ring apron, one glaring ominously at Jamie Moorefield, the other at Stalker Knight.
Don Chuckles: Things just got a whole lot worse, the only two options were fight or flight, and The Knights have crossed the flight option off of the list!
Phil Latio: I hope these two are ready to get their asses whooped by The Knights!
Gradually, Brian Gunn enters the ring in sync with Anger and both men stare at their respective opponents, shoulders back and faces grim, resigned to some sort of dark task.
Don Chuckles: I think things are about to get ugly.
With Anger looming in the background as back-up, Gunn allows a slight smirk to cut through the earnestness of his expression as he mouths a few words to Stalker which are rendered silent by the raucous of the crowd.
Don Chuckles: Did he just say…
Phil Latio: Yep! “Payback’s a beach” – that’s right Brian!
And before a perplexed Stalker can attempt to circumvent his seemingly hapless situation Brian Gunn bursts into life with a swift kick which finds the soft target of Stalker’s gut, which uncomfortably pushes the air out of his lungs and leaves him doubled over, rendering him helpless for a few brief seconds, which is all Brian needs to toss the lanky arm of Stalker of his shoulder and perform a bone crushing Heart Breaker!
Don Chuckles: Oh my God!
Phil Latio: Just brutal!
Moorefield seems to be caught in an odd emotion between hope and unease as he looks on with a keen gaze, careful to keep his guard up, but at the same time pondering over whether or not this will grant him a free victory.
Don Chuckles: I don’t claim to be an intellectual, but I do my best, so forgive if I’m missing something, but are The Knights sabotaging Stalker’s reign to complicate his contest with Anger?
Winded, wounded and agape, Stalker writhes around on the canvas indignantly, with an expression of resentment more than agony, but the colour is flushed from his face and his eyes flash with panic as he watches the giant Anger lumbering over to his battered frame.
Don Chuckles: It looks like Moorefield is getting away scot-free.
Moorefield’s face turns from stern to relieved as he sees the bank of the towering monster, Anger and he recedes into a corner, keeping a careful eye on Beno and Barton, who stand behind him with an amused look on their faces, clearly enjoying the beat down.
Don Chuckles: Oh no, that giant is going to…
In harmony with Don Chuckle’s concerned tone Anger hoists an unwilling Stalker Knight to his feet and with brute force Anger whips his two-hundred-and-forty pound frame through the air and hurls him against the canvas with unremitting power and belligerence.
Don Chuckles: …break him in half!
Phil Latio: What a vicious Short Fuse!
Don Chuckles: Stalker had to be anticipating penance in some capacity for his assault on Brian Gunn when he was helplessly bound to a stretcher last week.
Phil Latio: And The Knights just got their own back….tenfold!
With a smirk the collective members of The Knights look on, revelling in the agony of Stalker Knight, who is completely motionless upon the canvas.
Don Chuckles: This was a callous, calculated assault and it’s worked to perfection….as despicable as it is.
Phil Latio: I think it’s genius. Now The Knights have left Stalker hurt and forced him into a title match right before Wrestlemania, which is only going to hinder him further against Anger – as if facing him wasn’t bad enough!
Like a predatory snake, The Knights withdraw from the ring, slithering as a unit back to the top of the entrance ramp where they look on, relishing their violent work and waiting to see if their plan will come to fruition.
Don Chuckles: The General Managers can’t stand for this! The Knights are manipulating the show now, soon they’ll be running it if proper authority doesn’t step in!
Phil Latio: Ah, you were never any fun, Don! You moaned when The Society made things interesting and now you’re moaning because The Knights are rocking the boat. I think it’s good, all of these boy scouts running around shouting their virtues to a bunch of brain-dead sheep are finally being tested.
Back in the ring, a spooked referee tentatively moves to the centre of the ring - having spent the duration of the ambush hidden on the outside – and calls for the bell, going by what he is hired to do.
Don Chuckles: If he had a conscience he’d cancel the bout.
Phil Latio: Listen Don “Heckles” the man’s just doing his job.
At the referee’s command, the bell peals loud and clear, signalling the beginning of the contest, with Stalker laying flat on his back. Despite his outrageously advantageous position, Moorefield appears conflicted, his inner angel and demon grappling over whether or not he should take the high road.
Don Chuckles: Don’t do it, Jamie…
As Moorefield stands motionless, Brian Gunn fetches a microphone and begins to shout encouragement at Moorefield.
Brian Gunn: Do it! Do it, Jamie! Come on, you know you want a title shot, stop trying be such a hero and pin that pathetic chump! What, are you sad because his pregnant wife is watching? Screw her! This is your time, the belt never belonged with him anyway!
The crowd erupt in boos as Brian assumes the voice of temptation, but he remains oblivious to them and intently watches Moorefield who continues to deliberate inside the ring.
Phil Latio: Listen to Brian, do it! It’s a free title shot! Besides, if he wants it to be “fair” Stalker can rest up and be fresh for next week. He knows it makes sense.
Eventually, Jamie’s unease fades and is replaced by desire. Desire for gold, the one thing every man in the company strives for. Slowly, Jamie drops down onto his belly and hooks the leg of Stalker.
Brian Gunn: That’s it, you’re doing the right thing, Jamie.
Don Chuckles: I don’t believe this. I know this isn’t Jamie’s fault and he’d be a fool to reject the win, but I just can’t stand the Knights, their antics are just disgraceful!
In accordance with the pin, the referee gets down and makes the count:
ONE
TWO
THREE!
Phil Latio: We have a title match next week!
Gradually, Moorefield gets back to his feet, torn between happiness at receiving a shot and guilt for taking the match without throwing a punch.
Phil Latio: The guilt will pass Jamie, you did the right thing.
Don Chuckles: At least Stalker has a fighting chance next week.
Brian Gunn’s face is awash with joy as he raises the microphone.
Brian Gunn: You’re pathetic! So easy to manipulate. I should’ve laid you out and thrown your carcass on top of Stalker to stop all of this morality crap!
More boos meet the condescending shouts of Brian, but silence ensues once Anger grabs the microphone and speaks slowly, the crowd sensing the weight behind his simple words by his earnest tone.
Anger: Good luck in your match next week, Stalker. I mean that because if Moorefield gets to have all the fun and leaves you bruised and battered, I’ll be mighty disappointed…
Don Chuckles: These men are atrocities!
Phil Latio: I really think Stalker is hurt Don!
With sinister grins, The Knights look on, delighting in the curveball they’ve thrown Stalker Knight while Moorefield stands completely still, hands on hips as the Raw logo appears at the bottom corner of the screen and the vivid colours of the live broadcast are plunged into darkness. Credit:Match One: Ken
Match Two: K.Orton
Match Three: K.Orton
Match Four: Josh
Opening Segment: Beno
Jon/Blade Segment: Jon and Myself
Ken Segment: Himself
Barton's Segment: Himself
K.Orton's segment: Himself
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: To ride abroad redressing human wrongs, To speak no slander, no, nor listen to it, To honor his own word as if his god’s, To lead sweet lives in purest chastity, To love one maiden only, And worship her by years of noble deeds.
