Post by md on Dec 6, 2007 1:17:15 GMT -5
Continued From: gcwadmin.proboards107.com/index.cgi?board=icboard&action=display&thread=1195930600&page=2#1196809870
The locker room is nearly empty just as the first half an hour of the show tonight had gone underway. One person is still lacing up his boots though, that person being none other than Miles Divine. He had done a lot of thinking while he was getting prepped and ready for that over-the-top Battle Royal to crown the new PWC SuperWelterWeight Champion. His game plan was simple for that match, he'd systematically break down all of the high-flyers in that match and outright outsmart their gullible asses. But as always, he had a plan B in his back pocket, something that would assure him victory. That however wasn't the only thing on his mind tonight. There's an opportunity out there that only an idiot could pass up. A new wrestling promotion that just screamed assured super stardom. And it was just his luck, because he's not an idiot...
Pads securely fastened around his boots, Miles stands up and begins to wear in his wrestling attire by jogging in place. After a few stretching exercises, he slips on his vest and his trademark sunglasses. Time to scope out the action before the battle royal starts. He sticks his bag into the his assigned locker and struts his way outta there...
An hour later, we see Miles just slumped over in a chair, falling asleep after watching the couple of borefest matches of tonight's line up on one of the backstage TV monitors. It takes one of the referees for the battle royal, that was up next, to get him to snap out of it.
Lebowski! Wake up, kid! The SWW Battle Royal match is next!
Miles lowers his shades, to catch a glimpse of the person who just disturbed his forty winks. Instead of laying into him verbally, it dawns on him that as annoying as it was, it had to be right. His match had to be next. For god sake's let it be next, cuz frankly he's like bored. He brings the chair he's sitting on, that is leaning on the wall behind him, back to its resting place. Quickly nipping up out of it, he makes sure to press away any wrinkles on his vest and brings up the rear of an already sprinting ref down the hall.
*Time elapses*
The final four involves Terry James, Thiago Oliviera, A.D.D. and Miles Divine. A.D.D. lays on the ground, having a torrid aching head (not that he didn't have one prior to the match), while Thiago Oliviera rolls into a corner, trying to catch a deep breath of oxygen. Miles Divine and Terry James, meanwhile, are the only two that stand.
Rob Lexington: As A.D.D. uses the ropes to help him stand back on his own two feet, Thiago Oliviera pulls himself together enough to stalk him from behind, hovering over him like a predatory shadow. After giving him a backfist blow in the back of A.D.D.'s head, Thiago goes to try and dump him over the top rope, only to have Terry James come to A.D.D's aide, much like A.D.D did for Terry James earlier.
Stan Holter: Awww, isn't that just pathetic. What the hell is James thinking? He's such a moron... helping an OPPONENT of his that was about to be thrown on his ass. That decision will so bite him in the ass by the end of this I'm sure.
Rob Lexington: Thiago goes to throw A.D.D over the top rope, but Terry James uses his speed to nail Thiago right on the back side of both his knees, causing the Brazilian Jaguar's knees to buckle, stealing a page from his book actually. Not holding back one bit, James proceeds to land a standing moonsault on Oliviera, knocking the wind right out of him. James picks him up and whips him out... and Oliviera bounces back, only to run right into a spinning wheel kick by James!
Stan Holter: Oh shiii...
Rob Lexington: All the while, Miles is just standing there, catching a breather in the corner. What a class act he is... Oh! A.D.D climbs back up, though. He isn't wasting a second's chance to inflict pain onto Oliviera!
Stan Holter: ...You don't say.
Rob Lexington: Stomp, stomp, kick, kick, stomp. A.D.D. kicks him one more time, striking him in the ribs, making sure that Oliviera remains on the canvas, wanting to keep him down, once and for all. But even after each kick, Oliviera fights back, trying as hard as he can to regain his footing by trying to distance A.D.D. enough with thrust kicks.
Stan Holter: He's a fighter; not a lover!
Rob Lexington: Missing a kick, thanks to Oliviera side-stepping it, A.D.D braces himself as Oliviera gets to his feet. A.D.D goes to throw a punch to his temple, but Oliviera uses his right arm to block it. Using his left, Oliviera reaches forward and... grabs onto A.D.D's bushy hair! He cocks his fist... he's going to backfist him once and for all!
Stan Holter: Do it! Do it! Yes! Get that hardcore idiot out of there!
Before Oliviera can strike A.D.D, Miles Divine charges in from one of the corners and flying shoulderblocks Oliviera from behind, knocking him into a dizzy spell right into A.D.D., that sends both Oliviera and A.D.D over the top rope!
Stan Holter: YES!! Miles is a fuckin' genious!!! Taking that opportunity to blindside those two!
Rob Lexington: Damn that Miles Divine. He's such a little creep!
Stan Holter: HEY! Don't knock him cause he's smart as hell! Every man for himself, at any cost!
Luckily both had landed on the ring apron, A.D.D. wrapping his arms around the second rope while Oliviera grabs a hold of A.D.D's oversized shirt. Miles can't believe it, that they didn't fall to the mat below so he makes a fist and starts smashing his hand off A.D.D's skull, wearing him down and adding to that massive headache. Meanwhile, Terry springs off of the ropes and delivers an opportunistic act of his own, by front dropkicking Miles on the back of the head, that sends him flying through the middle and top rope, crashing and burning to the outside! The crowd is going insane.
Stan Holter: NOOOO!
The refs surrounding the outside are making it perfectly clear with their hand signals that Miles is not eliminated. He didn't go over the top rope.
Stan Holter: Oh that was fuckin' close! Phew...
A.D.D then has enough strength to pull himself back into the ring, underneath the bottom rope, with a clinging on to dear life Oliviera just behind him. Once the two are back in, they both eat one of James' boot respectively via drop kick. James is fired up, being somewhat of the underdog to win this whole shebang. He begins to hype up the crowd.
Stan Holter: What an idiot! BOOOO!! What a fuckin' turd that guy is!
Rob Lexington: You're such a hater, Stan. Shut the heck up!
Oliviera is the first one to get back on his feet, aggravated as hell that James is getting the better of him. He rushes toward him, ducks a clothesline that James attempts to ground him again, and savat kicks James right on the chin.
Stan Holter: HA! Serves him right! Wait!
A.D.D. spears Oliviera to the mat and begins laying in more of that ground and pound style of his. Both men begin rolling around the ring, each trying to get the better of the other.
Stan Holter: Well, this could be the gayest thing I've ever seen.
The crowd giggles in agreement, laughing at what seemed like more of a cat fight than a slugfest.
Rob Lexington: Oliviera and A.D.D continue to roll around, taking different turns to get on top of each other and smack each other around.
Stan Holter: Do I even have to say it again?
Rob Lexington: ...What the hell are you rambling about?
Stan Holter: Good question. I don't even know!
Outside, Miles grabs his composure after flirting with a couple of the lady fans near ringside. As Oliviera rolls onto A.D.D., James gets himself together after that vicious kick, thinks to himself and arches forward. Tugging Oliviera off of A.D.D., James tosses Oliviera to the ropes and both James and A.D.D catch each other's attention and they charge towards the ropes at Oliviera. Miles spots this as well, and quickly slides into the ring. As Oliviera is being double clothleslined over the top rope, Miles backs into the ropes opposite them and hits A.D.D squarely behind the head with a calf kick, sending him over to. A.D.D is the first to touch the mat, with a large thump, while Oliviera manages to hook an arm around the top rope!
Stan Holter: YES! That walking r-tard just got eliminated by one of Miles' FKEs!
James spots what Miles has done but before he could retaliate, he still had to deal with Oliviera who was about to grab an unsuspecting with a cutter onto the top ropes. James dodges it, which send Oliviera falling hard on the ring apron. Miles attempted a springboard sidekick off of the ropes by Miles just got kicked in the ribs with a front dropkick by James. Miles hits the mat hard. James then realizes that Oliviera was on the ring apron and he runs toward the ropes and delivers a baseball slide that sends Oliviera down to the mat below.
Rob Lexington: And Oliviera is eliminated!
Stan Holter: Damn it!!
It was a chance he couldn't let slip by and now it was down to Miles Divine and Terry James.
Outside, Oliviera slams his fists on the ring apron after he gets back on his feet. He couldn't believe it! Obviously quite perturbed, Oliviera refuses to leave the ringside area, despite having several referees try and drag him to the back. He gets the last laugh, however; as he breaks free of the referees and rolls back into the ring.
Rob Lexington: Just go to the back, Thiago! Come on! Your time is over...
Stan Holter: Hell no! He's away from those stinkin' refs and he has slid back into the ring! That munchkin James doesn't see this, as his attention is focused on Miles Divine!
Rob Lexington: What the... get him out of here!
Once back inside the ring, Oliviera heads towards James, clubs him in the back of his neck, dropping him to the ground, and then grabs James by his hair, picking him back up and then flings him over the top rope, tossing him over the top rope.
Rob Lexington: No!
Stan Holter: Yes!
Rob Lexington: No way!... Wait!
James however manages to skin the cat, to which Oliviera reacts with a proposed mad dash toward his mid section. James is quick enough to use Oliviera's own momentum against him, by actually hooking his ankles around Oliviera's neck and headlock takeovering Oliviera over the top ropes and out to the outside! Miles is getting back up as he realizes the precarious position James is in, skinning the cat again. James gets back in the ring, his feet landing on the canvas. Miles rushes toward him and as James turns back around after showing Oliviera who's boss, Miles delivers a picturesque super kick right on that glass jaw of Terry James which sends the young rookie over the top rope and down to the mat. Eliminated!
Miles raises his arm in triumphant, much to the mixed reaction he was getting from the crowd. He had just won the SuperWelterWeight Championship. Just like he thought he would.
Ladies and gentlemen, the winner and NEEEEEEEEEWWWWW PWC SuperWelterWeight Champiiiiiiionnnnnn, "Too Fine" MILES DIVINE!!
One of the refs on the outside reach for the belt to present to a chesire grinning Miles. He does so, but before the ref raises his arm in victory, he waves him to get him a mic.
Heh... *pant*... heh... now THAT was finest personified. No rookie was going to beat me. Heck, do you people not know who I am? I'm Mr. F.I.N.E. and this title right here? It has been FINE'D, for being...
He takes a moment to check it out.
A hunk of WORTHLESS & TAINTED metal!!
The crowd is like what?!
No WAY in hell is that going around MY waist. Write it in the history books, boys cuz as of this moment on? This title?
He tosses it over his right shoulder much to the dismay of the referee.
Old like yesterday's news. It's been overshadowed by another piece of news I fell upon just a couple of hours ago. Anyone ever heard of a company called GCW?
Murmurs within the crowds can be heard. Some people seem to know, but others were clueless. Soon enough though they'll ALL know.
Miles Divine is OFFICIALLY asking... no DEMANDING that PWC let me buy out early of that silly contract I signed with them, cuz simply put, I'm not staying with the herd of jackasses anymore. I'm the finest Stallion this place has ever seen and as such, I'm striding all the waaaaayyy to Chi-Town, and become the STAR I KNOW I am! Here's to wishing you all a fine rest of the night, because I always will... like I always have, and from this moment forth. Chi-Town. Get ready. The Finest thing there ever was, is and ever will be is coming a promotion WITHIN you...
He drops the mic, poses for the ground and makes his way out of the ring. Suddenly he's stopped dead in his tracks by the man he eliminated to become the SWW Champ, Terry James. Miles eggs him on, to do something if he dared. Before James can strike, Miles kicks him where it hurts the most, and sets him up for the FINEst move in sports entertainment/wrestling today! He hooks his right leg behind the head of the kneeled over James, grabs a hold of James' right arm, and torques the arm forward, causing the back of James' head to crash on the thinly mat-layered concrete floor. That's the Finest Inverted Neckbreaker EVAR! for those of you not in the known. F.I.N.E for short. Learn to know it and experience it, because those in Chi-Town WILL...
The scene fades to white.
The locker room is nearly empty just as the first half an hour of the show tonight had gone underway. One person is still lacing up his boots though, that person being none other than Miles Divine. He had done a lot of thinking while he was getting prepped and ready for that over-the-top Battle Royal to crown the new PWC SuperWelterWeight Champion. His game plan was simple for that match, he'd systematically break down all of the high-flyers in that match and outright outsmart their gullible asses. But as always, he had a plan B in his back pocket, something that would assure him victory. That however wasn't the only thing on his mind tonight. There's an opportunity out there that only an idiot could pass up. A new wrestling promotion that just screamed assured super stardom. And it was just his luck, because he's not an idiot...
Pads securely fastened around his boots, Miles stands up and begins to wear in his wrestling attire by jogging in place. After a few stretching exercises, he slips on his vest and his trademark sunglasses. Time to scope out the action before the battle royal starts. He sticks his bag into the his assigned locker and struts his way outta there...
An hour later, we see Miles just slumped over in a chair, falling asleep after watching the couple of borefest matches of tonight's line up on one of the backstage TV monitors. It takes one of the referees for the battle royal, that was up next, to get him to snap out of it.
Lebowski! Wake up, kid! The SWW Battle Royal match is next!
Miles lowers his shades, to catch a glimpse of the person who just disturbed his forty winks. Instead of laying into him verbally, it dawns on him that as annoying as it was, it had to be right. His match had to be next. For god sake's let it be next, cuz frankly he's like bored. He brings the chair he's sitting on, that is leaning on the wall behind him, back to its resting place. Quickly nipping up out of it, he makes sure to press away any wrinkles on his vest and brings up the rear of an already sprinting ref down the hall.
*Time elapses*
The final four involves Terry James, Thiago Oliviera, A.D.D. and Miles Divine. A.D.D. lays on the ground, having a torrid aching head (not that he didn't have one prior to the match
), while Thiago Oliviera rolls into a corner, trying to catch a deep breath of oxygen. Miles Divine and Terry James, meanwhile, are the only two that stand.Rob Lexington: As A.D.D. uses the ropes to help him stand back on his own two feet, Thiago Oliviera pulls himself together enough to stalk him from behind, hovering over him like a predatory shadow. After giving him a backfist blow in the back of A.D.D.'s head, Thiago goes to try and dump him over the top rope, only to have Terry James come to A.D.D's aide, much like A.D.D did for Terry James earlier.
Stan Holter: Awww, isn't that just pathetic. What the hell is James thinking? He's such a moron... helping an OPPONENT of his that was about to be thrown on his ass. That decision will so bite him in the ass by the end of this I'm sure.
Rob Lexington: Thiago goes to throw A.D.D over the top rope, but Terry James uses his speed to nail Thiago right on the back side of both his knees, causing the Brazilian Jaguar's knees to buckle, stealing a page from his book actually. Not holding back one bit, James proceeds to land a standing moonsault on Oliviera, knocking the wind right out of him. James picks him up and whips him out... and Oliviera bounces back, only to run right into a spinning wheel kick by James!
Stan Holter: Oh shiii...
Rob Lexington: All the while, Miles is just standing there, catching a breather in the corner. What a class act he is... Oh! A.D.D climbs back up, though. He isn't wasting a second's chance to inflict pain onto Oliviera!
Stan Holter: ...You don't say.
Rob Lexington: Stomp, stomp, kick, kick, stomp. A.D.D. kicks him one more time, striking him in the ribs, making sure that Oliviera remains on the canvas, wanting to keep him down, once and for all. But even after each kick, Oliviera fights back, trying as hard as he can to regain his footing by trying to distance A.D.D. enough with thrust kicks.
Stan Holter: He's a fighter; not a lover!
Rob Lexington: Missing a kick, thanks to Oliviera side-stepping it, A.D.D braces himself as Oliviera gets to his feet. A.D.D goes to throw a punch to his temple, but Oliviera uses his right arm to block it. Using his left, Oliviera reaches forward and... grabs onto A.D.D's bushy hair! He cocks his fist... he's going to backfist him once and for all!
Stan Holter: Do it! Do it! Yes! Get that hardcore idiot out of there!
Before Oliviera can strike A.D.D, Miles Divine charges in from one of the corners and flying shoulderblocks Oliviera from behind, knocking him into a dizzy spell right into A.D.D., that sends both Oliviera and A.D.D over the top rope!
Stan Holter: YES!! Miles is a fuckin' genious!!! Taking that opportunity to blindside those two!
Rob Lexington: Damn that Miles Divine. He's such a little creep!
Stan Holter: HEY! Don't knock him cause he's smart as hell! Every man for himself, at any cost!
Luckily both had landed on the ring apron, A.D.D. wrapping his arms around the second rope while Oliviera grabs a hold of A.D.D's oversized shirt. Miles can't believe it, that they didn't fall to the mat below so he makes a fist and starts smashing his hand off A.D.D's skull, wearing him down and adding to that massive headache. Meanwhile, Terry springs off of the ropes and delivers an opportunistic act of his own, by front dropkicking Miles on the back of the head, that sends him flying through the middle and top rope, crashing and burning to the outside! The crowd is going insane.
Stan Holter: NOOOO!
The refs surrounding the outside are making it perfectly clear with their hand signals that Miles is not eliminated. He didn't go over the top rope.
Stan Holter: Oh that was fuckin' close! Phew...
A.D.D then has enough strength to pull himself back into the ring, underneath the bottom rope, with a clinging on to dear life Oliviera just behind him. Once the two are back in, they both eat one of James' boot respectively via drop kick. James is fired up, being somewhat of the underdog to win this whole shebang. He begins to hype up the crowd.
Stan Holter: What an idiot! BOOOO!! What a fuckin' turd that guy is!
Rob Lexington: You're such a hater, Stan. Shut the heck up!
Oliviera is the first one to get back on his feet, aggravated as hell that James is getting the better of him. He rushes toward him, ducks a clothesline that James attempts to ground him again, and savat kicks James right on the chin.
Stan Holter: HA! Serves him right! Wait!
A.D.D. spears Oliviera to the mat and begins laying in more of that ground and pound style of his. Both men begin rolling around the ring, each trying to get the better of the other.
Stan Holter: Well, this could be the gayest thing I've ever seen.
The crowd giggles in agreement, laughing at what seemed like more of a cat fight than a slugfest.
Rob Lexington: Oliviera and A.D.D continue to roll around, taking different turns to get on top of each other and smack each other around.
Stan Holter: Do I even have to say it again?
Rob Lexington: ...What the hell are you rambling about?
Stan Holter: Good question. I don't even know!
Outside, Miles grabs his composure after flirting with a couple of the lady fans near ringside. As Oliviera rolls onto A.D.D., James gets himself together after that vicious kick, thinks to himself and arches forward. Tugging Oliviera off of A.D.D., James tosses Oliviera to the ropes and both James and A.D.D catch each other's attention and they charge towards the ropes at Oliviera. Miles spots this as well, and quickly slides into the ring. As Oliviera is being double clothleslined over the top rope, Miles backs into the ropes opposite them and hits A.D.D squarely behind the head with a calf kick, sending him over to. A.D.D is the first to touch the mat, with a large thump, while Oliviera manages to hook an arm around the top rope!
Stan Holter: YES! That walking r-tard just got eliminated by one of Miles' FKEs!
James spots what Miles has done but before he could retaliate, he still had to deal with Oliviera who was about to grab an unsuspecting with a cutter onto the top ropes. James dodges it, which send Oliviera falling hard on the ring apron. Miles attempted a springboard sidekick off of the ropes by Miles just got kicked in the ribs with a front dropkick by James. Miles hits the mat hard. James then realizes that Oliviera was on the ring apron and he runs toward the ropes and delivers a baseball slide that sends Oliviera down to the mat below.
Rob Lexington: And Oliviera is eliminated!
Stan Holter: Damn it!!
It was a chance he couldn't let slip by and now it was down to Miles Divine and Terry James.
Outside, Oliviera slams his fists on the ring apron after he gets back on his feet. He couldn't believe it! Obviously quite perturbed, Oliviera refuses to leave the ringside area, despite having several referees try and drag him to the back. He gets the last laugh, however; as he breaks free of the referees and rolls back into the ring.
Rob Lexington: Just go to the back, Thiago! Come on! Your time is over...
Stan Holter: Hell no! He's away from those stinkin' refs and he has slid back into the ring! That munchkin James doesn't see this, as his attention is focused on Miles Divine!
Rob Lexington: What the... get him out of here!
Once back inside the ring, Oliviera heads towards James, clubs him in the back of his neck, dropping him to the ground, and then grabs James by his hair, picking him back up and then flings him over the top rope, tossing him over the top rope.
Rob Lexington: No!
Stan Holter: Yes!
Rob Lexington: No way!... Wait!
James however manages to skin the cat, to which Oliviera reacts with a proposed mad dash toward his mid section. James is quick enough to use Oliviera's own momentum against him, by actually hooking his ankles around Oliviera's neck and headlock takeovering Oliviera over the top ropes and out to the outside! Miles is getting back up as he realizes the precarious position James is in, skinning the cat again. James gets back in the ring, his feet landing on the canvas. Miles rushes toward him and as James turns back around after showing Oliviera who's boss, Miles delivers a picturesque super kick right on that glass jaw of Terry James which sends the young rookie over the top rope and down to the mat. Eliminated!
Miles raises his arm in triumphant, much to the mixed reaction he was getting from the crowd. He had just won the SuperWelterWeight Championship. Just like he thought he would.
Ladies and gentlemen, the winner and NEEEEEEEEEWWWWW PWC SuperWelterWeight Champiiiiiiionnnnnn, "Too Fine" MILES DIVINE!!
One of the refs on the outside reach for the belt to present to a chesire grinning Miles. He does so, but before the ref raises his arm in victory, he waves him to get him a mic.
Heh... *pant*... heh... now THAT was finest personified. No rookie was going to beat me. Heck, do you people not know who I am? I'm Mr. F.I.N.E. and this title right here? It has been FINE'D, for being...
He takes a moment to check it out.
A hunk of WORTHLESS & TAINTED metal!!
The crowd is like what?!
No WAY in hell is that going around MY waist. Write it in the history books, boys cuz as of this moment on? This title?
He tosses it over his right shoulder much to the dismay of the referee.
Old like yesterday's news. It's been overshadowed by another piece of news I fell upon just a couple of hours ago. Anyone ever heard of a company called GCW?
Murmurs within the crowds can be heard. Some people seem to know, but others were clueless. Soon enough though they'll ALL know.
Miles Divine is OFFICIALLY asking... no DEMANDING that PWC let me buy out early of that silly contract I signed with them, cuz simply put, I'm not staying with the herd of jackasses anymore. I'm the finest Stallion this place has ever seen and as such, I'm striding all the waaaaayyy to Chi-Town, and become the STAR I KNOW I am! Here's to wishing you all a fine rest of the night, because I always will... like I always have, and from this moment forth. Chi-Town. Get ready. The Finest thing there ever was, is and ever will be is coming a promotion WITHIN you...
He drops the mic, poses for the ground and makes his way out of the ring. Suddenly he's stopped dead in his tracks by the man he eliminated to become the SWW Champ, Terry James. Miles eggs him on, to do something if he dared. Before James can strike, Miles kicks him where it hurts the most, and sets him up for the FINEst move in sports entertainment/wrestling today! He hooks his right leg behind the head of the kneeled over James, grabs a hold of James' right arm, and torques the arm forward, causing the back of James' head to crash on the thinly mat-layered concrete floor. That's the Finest Inverted Neckbreaker EVAR! for those of you not in the known. F.I.N.E for short. Learn to know it and experience it, because those in Chi-Town WILL...
The scene fades to white.