Six Pack Challenge (Pre-PPV)

[Vince McMahon]

Pre-PPV: War Bringer vs Blayke Rhenson vs Dan Hellman vs Troy Motors vs Cap. Tetley vs Mascara de la Muerte

Six Pack Challenge! Winner will be in RAW 112's main event! What a prize for these up and comers! Who will walk away with the free main event under their belt.

RP Below

[Vince McMahon]

He pm'd me his roleplay and said he may not have internet for the ppv, so here is his roleplay.

----
Name: More Than a Mask.

Mascara de la Muerte is sitting backstage, in his locker room

Hola, amigos! Soy Mascara de la Muerte! You may remember me beating some jabroni last week on Raw. You see, that is exactly what I was talking about. I needed to prove myself and so I did. Now, at Supremacy, my first Thy WWE PPV, I am facing a much greater challenge. Instead of one, I have to beat five other men who are standing in my way. My way to the main event of Monday Night Raw. So let's see who I have to face tonight. War Bringer. Blayke Rhenson. Dan Hellman. Troy Motors. Captain Tetley. Yeah, I don't know any of these guys, but I know one thing for sure: I will do my best to make a name for myself in Thy WWE. Last week was a great start, now I have got to continue my journey to the greatness. But before I go out there and kick ass, I would like to clear some things up.

Mascara de la Muerte takes out one of his masks (he is wearing one mask and also has a few back up masks) out of his bag, raises it and says:

I have heard some people laughing at me for wearing a mask. Even backstage in the locker room other wrestlers make fun of me because of my mask. But let me explain to you one thing. This mask is not just a piece of leather. This mask is not just merchandise. And no, I am not hiding my face because I'm ugly. It is huge honor for me to wear this mask. It represents the whole culture of lucha libre. It represents a century long tradition. This mask means a lot to me and I won't let you disrespect it. Es mi máscara y estoy muy orgulloso de ello, perros!

Mascara puts his mask back in the bag, looks in the camera and continues.

Last week on Raw I made Njord Huscarl respect my mask and if any of you still think it's funny, we'll see about that after tonight.

[Deleted]

Do I have something to prove?

The scene opens on a grotty run down bar, the lights glow a dim yellow which itself only intensifies the dirty grit that seemed to be stuck to everything in the place. A layer of filth, memory and blood. The bar keep was a skinny man, looked as though he hadn't a good meal in weeks, smelt worse then he looked. His hair was grey and patchy. The top of his head was balding and that just the start. His clothes stained and ruined by the same filth that inhabited his bar. He had milk bottle glasses that themselves seemed to be coated, in what could only be described as shit. He grin on his face, half his teeth missing however he just gave off an unusual and creepy vibe. However behind all that, behind the wrinkles and the scars. He was actually a nice chap. In fact he meant more to most then you'd imagine. He always had an ear to listen to your problems, that's was most likely because he hardly heard anyone anyway, he had wax build so bad that you could imagine that he mould the stuff into candles. Hell they would fit in quite well with the bar. He was loyal to his regulars and there was one guy, who he had taken a fondness to. That man sat in front of him. His hair slicked back, his jaw stippled with stubble. This man with his broken expression and tearful look in his eye was Dean. You know Dean well rather you know him as "The War Bringer". At least that was the persona of which THY WWE knew him. No one in the company knew the real Dean. So Dean was alone in this bar, pouring his poor little heart out to an old friend, to Trevor; the bar keeper for which you have just met.

You see, Trev was despite being the dirtiest son of a bitch Dean knew, he was overall someone who listened and that's what he needed. He looked up from the bar, for a second he had slipped off while talking about his problems. Trev had given him some time to think, thankfully. Dean smiled half heartedly at Trev, who returned the smile. He bent down and pulled out a bottle from underneath the bar. He stood up and popped the cap off, using the edge of the bar. He slid it across to Dean before mumbling "On the house, mate." Dean lifted the bottle as if offering a toast to Trev, who nodded. Dean put the beer to his lips and took a sip before lowering it and putting it back on the bar.

"Cheers dude. Anyway, back to what I was saying, so I'm looking up on the canvas and all I can fucking think is 'What the fuck am I doing, I'm fed up of throwing these fucking matches constantly.' So I'm contemplating what to do, do I get up and put these guys so far in the ground that I leave the arena as the craziest S-o-B in the federation. Only then I think of Sydney and the plan. All because he wants to prove to these jumped up little knight guys, who think they're something bad, working the fucking ring like they own it. Well if it wasn't for Sydney and Will, putting this stupid little band of men together then they wouldn't of even considered being a stable and holding all the gold. I mean Beans right, he decides it's a good choice to carry on the stable after every other mother fucker had left. So then, Sydney right, he's got this whole new plan. Him and Will, came up with this idea. See, FEAR and Anger are off fucking god knows where. Left the country I think. I mean there's talk of them over in Japan, running the circuit but I ain't got a fucking clue. Brian, he's off in fucking Rio, living the fucking high life. Heard, he got back with his old missus and they got another baby now. Ain't gonna stop the fucking shagging all Brazilian birds though and who can fucking blame the cunt. He's riding life like a fucking bitch. Beans, right he's still in the fed. Goes on one minute he's leaving and his contracts up but the bastards back. You believe that fucking cheeky cunt? As for Barton, the god damn shit head he's only fucking come back the country, in contact with Sydney and THY has a contract drawn up but that's on the hush. Will is still fucking every little fucking bangable bird you can think of and he's splashing the money. As for Sydney..."

A voice spoke from behind Dean, it echo'ed in the emptied bar. Dean turned his head, surprised the man who he had avoided all week had found him. He let out a sigh as Sydney King, his older brother sat down on the stool next to him. "Alright, little bro. Whiskey please Trev.." Sydney pulled out a stack of hundreds and put five down on the bar. "You're looking rough Trev, get yourself a meal and some new clothes. Why you're at it go and have a fucking wash, you stink and I need a private word with my brother"

Trev nodded, he slid a glass with ice in it to Sydney, before placing a bottle of Jack's on the bar. Trev waddles round the bar, to the entrance, he slide the locks up. Turned to Sydney, mumbled something about not letting anyone he didn't know in and then shuffled off upstairs.

Dean ran his tongue around his mouth in annoyance. Pushing it against a tooth he turned to his brother, ready for the talking to he had longed to not receive. "I was having a conversation, jerk." He took another sip from his beer as Sydney poured himself a whiskey.

"Don't be a whiney little bitch, little bro. We got a lot to talk about. Which so includes your future, by the fucking way. Now I received a phone call, the plan is going ahead. So no more fucking lying down and letting the wins go. We led 'em up to a false sense of se-cur-rity. Now little bruva, we are in luck. I couldn't get in touch with a few of the oldies. 'Ell a lot of 'em are a bit worried to work with ya, after you know the great accident." He tapped his walking stick against the bar. "But don't you worry your little fucking head, bruva. You see, Jonny made a call for me. Robin, got in touch with Rufus, who got in touch with an old friend. Who just so happens to be willing to team with ya. Now I know, you ain't bovard. But m'lad. This is golden, you hear me don't ya, golden. You guys are gonna destroy THY, figuratively, obviously. You my little beauty are going to tear about those fake little knights and take the gold. Now it might be a good idea to talk to PoT or Jacob or you know. One of those boys, just to get the snoop. We need a few lads on the pay roll. Who know what they are talking about. So no fucking Kurt Orton or Jesse fucking Neal. You got that ain't ya? Lad? Yeah, good. Now lets talk real business. This week."

Dean looked at his older brother, the wrinkle line across his forehead, the sunken eyes of disappointment, the gruff beard but of course. Worse then all that, the grudge in his voice. Dean knew that Sydney just wanted to rule THY himself, obviously though, he couldn't. The injury, the incident. So it was up to Dean, the fuck up. Dean looked down at his bottle of beer, only to notice it was mostly drank, he sighed and got up. He walked around the bar and grabbed himself another, putting down 3 20 dollar bills to cover his tab for the night. He walked back to his brother and sat down.

"Right, so here's the plan. I want you to focus on Mascara, you see this guy is new. We don't know him. He could be the biggest threat of the whole match. Now, you see. we're not gonna force you on the fans. All we're gonna do is have you casually win this match. Motors is nothing to worry about, the guy's a shell of his former self, Tetley well, he can't seem to put two words together without going cross eye'd, he's a bit, you know, not there. Then there's Rhenson, whoever this fucker is, you gotta make sure he doesn't get any momentum. Here's what I want you to do. Aim for going after someone who ain't gonna give you any trouble. Like, Motors. Take the fucker out early, then stand back. Act as though you're smashing though. Don't get blind sided. Watch your back constantly. You're the big man. Now yeah you've laid down and let them kick your arse but not anymore. You put Motors down, then you wait. Save your energy. With any luck by the time you fight again you'll be fine and have full use of your body. If you can, take Tetley, he's a bit of a pussy. After that you three men to take on. I can't tell you much about Mascara, he's completely fresh off the boat, metaphorically speaking. He might be dangerous so what I want you to do is go for his legs. Break 'em if you have to. Slow the fucker down. As for Rhenson, I want you to put the cunt on your shoulders and give that guy a message, you're the badass mother fucker in that ring and if anyone wants to question it. You put them on their fucking arse. Ok? Leave Hellman to the end though, he's your target, he tried to fuck you up. Tried to injury your tackle. You take that little twat and you slam the little shit head straight on his fucking face. Make him bleed. Understand me little brother? You're gonna win this match. No question. Ok?"

Dean gulped and nodded. His brother was, his idol but he scared the shit out of him. Dean did as he was told though. He sipped his beer as Sydney got to his feet. He patted Dean's shoulder and limped out, the clunk of his walking stick sounding as he stumbled away, having taken the Whiskey with him. Dean's eyes lowered as he thought about what he was just told and he knew now, that this whole plan was going to put so much pressure on him. He knew this whole plan was to get revenge on those who had disrespected his brother. He let out a short sigh, before he down the rest of his beer and left the bar. The bottle of beer stood on the bar empty, a drip of water slowly sliding down the side as the bar went out of focus and everything cut to black, the tape had ran out. The rest of the story, was only just beginning. God help us.

[Tetley]

it's been two hours of staring at this screen, I've still got nothing and my brain is starting to hurt so i'm just going to do a short thing.

Via YouTube

Tetley: Wasup Teabaggas it's me the master of teabaggary Captain Tetley and I'm making my return in the Thy wwe pay per view supremacy in a six pack challenge where the winner goes to the main event and after I win I will finally get my shot and if you have a problem with that you can all Suck!... My!!... Balls!!!

[enterprisegraphics.]

✮ running around in circles, the path i always choose ✮

SCENE 001 · BIPOLAR MIND
LOCATION · ABANDONED WAREHOUSE
STARRING · BLAYKE RHENSON & DRUG DEALER


unknown thy wwe employee blayke rhenson is standing in front of an older gentlemen, the older gentlemen seems to be denying blayke of something. blayke is scratching at his arms, he's licking his lips as if he's being withheld from something. rhenson starts kicking the stones that are on the ground inside the warehouse. blayke throws his hands in the air, he places his hands on his hips.

· blayke rhenson · "oh c'mon wes, i need it; i haven't had it in weeks. you're lucky i didn't manage to find it while i was back home in sweden. please, i really need it, man."


wes shakes his head and watches as blayke runs his hand through his hair; blayke just stares at the man in front of him. wes just watches as blayke starts throwing a tantrum. wes finally raises his voice at the superstar.

· wes roo · "yer better than this shit, yeh bloke. i don't want yeh going and fucking everything up like yeh did back in the old days, yeh don't fucking need this bullshit. listen blayke, yer a great performer, yer a great person in general but this stuff is fowking ye up, mate. ye need help."

blayke scoffed at the words that came out of the dealers mouth, he shook his head obviously disagreeing with what wes had to say; blayke pursed his lips and crossed his arms. wes raised his eyebrow at the young man in front of him.

· blayke rhenson · "wes, you've never denied me my crack before, though. it's not fucking me up, it truly isn't. i just need it before this dark match that's coming up, please. it's a must for me."

· wes roo · "ye want to know what is a must fer ye? ye need to get over yer addiction, you fowked up big time 'ere blayke, i should've never introduced ye to this shit. i'll admit, it's my fault, and yes. i've nevah denied yer; but this time ye realleh needa focus on the bloody task at hand, yeah. ye needa focus on defeating the five otha men that yer gon' be in this match with. ye needa be healthy, if not, yer a dead bloke."

blayke puts his hands on his head and just screams 'fuck' - wes watches the young man freak out, he shakes his head and just continues to watch blayke as he starts pacing back and forth. blayke shakes his head.

· blayke rhenson · "ya fuckin' kidding me, right? if you want me to do well, then give me the damn drugs. i can function properly without them; you know i can. i won't end up dead, i'll use it properly. the only time that i haven't used it properly was when i was really stressed a couple of months ago, and i nearly overdosed. c'mon, the crack really will help me during this match. it'll help me do what i need to do, it'll protect me, please wes. just give me the damn drugs. "

· wes roo · "yer fowking kiddin meh, blayke, you'll end fowking dead - six feet undah the fowking ground. it won't fowking protect ye during yer match, it'll kill yah; whatevah happened to the passion, blayke - the passion and the fans that lead yah to multiple title wins. whatevah happened to blayke that loved meeting fans and wasn't drug dependent. i want to see that blayke back, listen mate. you're a great kid, ye just need to break this damned addiction. yer kids need yah. yer fans need yah. so many people tweet you, thanking ye. yer just throwin yer life away this bloody substance. don't fowk it up anymore than it already is. i want you to go one more day without this."

· blayke rhenson · "i'm going through withdrawl here, and fuck passion and fuck the fans. all i care about is winning and being sucessful and getting these damn drugs. i'm not the same kid that you used to know, wes. i'm a whole 'nother person, for the better or for the worse. my only motivation for even stepping into the ring is winning so i can earn the money to buy this. i'm done trying, i'm done being the man that i need to be for these fans. i don't care if my opponents even take advantage. passion didn't do anything for me, the fans didn't do anything for me. all the hours that i spent in the gym didn't do anything. the crack did something for me, it made me a better person, wes. it helped me through so much, it saved my life. ( wes rubs his face at what blayke just said ) "

· wes roo · "blayke shut the fowk up, why did you start wrestlin' in the ferst place?"

· blayke rhenson · "i did it for the fans and because i loved it, i loved what i did in the ring. i did it to see little kids smile, and because i knew i could be an inspiration to many, and that i did become..i really did fuck up, didn't i? i'm so fucking stupid. i fucked up, i really need to step up my game tomorrow night, i need to prove that i'm not just a drug addict..i'll get the help that i need, i'll become healthy again."

wes smiles and takes the bag of cocaine out of his pocket and throws it in the trashcan nearby. as soon as wes walks away, blayke goes over to the trash can and takes the bag of cocaine out, stashing it in his back pocket; rhenson puts his hood up and leaves the abandon warehouse to prepare for sunday night.

✮ lyrics credit ✮ placeholder by the story so far.