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Post by Vinny Falcone on May 29, 2011 8:31:43 GMT -5
You three RP here.
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Post by The Outlaw on May 31, 2011 11:09:46 GMT -5
The hot Summer sun is blazing in it's full glory today. The throaty roar of American V-Twin motorcycles can be heard, almost drowning the generic classic rock tracks being performed live in the background. The camera pans downward from the orange sun down over a disheveled building, the sign reading "Roxy's Roadhouse.". There are motorcycles galore parked around the structure, and many more driving by, the vast majority of them Harleys. Scantily-clad women are milling about, being ogled by the stereotypical burly bikers filling the scene. What little these women are wearing is leather or something akin to dental floss. The camera focuses on one large man in particular. He is straddling an oldschool Harley bobber, stripped down to the bare minimum, save for the monstrous engine and wrapped tail pipes, brushed with a rusted, patina motif. His arms are covered in tattoos, black hair slicked back under a red bandana, and sporting a sleeveless Harley shirt, faded blue jeans, and big black boots. The camera zooms in as the man removes a pair of black sunglasses from his eyes.
Outlaw: For those of you who don't know who I am, my name is the Outlaw.
He pauses for a moment. Those in the know recognize this man as a multiple-time champion in the now-defunct RCW. In fact, both the organization's first and final champion.
Outlaw: And I'm big. I'm bad. And I'm one mean son of a bitch. Sunday, I ride into Tallahassee for Blood Bath to show the GWA the most dominant force to ever step into a ring. And I can't think of an event named more appropriately for that to happen. 'Cause that's just what it's gonna be for those poor souls who have to face me. But I'll get to that later.
The Outlaw stands, an enormous figure, and takes a step forward.
Outlaw: First, let me tell you something about myself. I've made a living over the past twelve years out of beating the hell out of people. Broken necks, fractures, and ended careers. I've done it all. And let me tell you, I love my job! So I came to the GWA for more of the same. But as it turns out, everybody in the GWA thinks they're a badass. Hell, there's even a guy callin' himself Badass Brian! So, watchin' the GWA lately, gettin' ready to make my debut at one of the most brutal events in pro wrestling, has really got my juices flowin'. I can't wait to humble these chumps! One by one, two or three at a time, I don't give a damn!
The Outlaw smiles grimly.
Outlaw: And so it begins on June 5th. Obelisk and Lex Future. You boys sure haven't exactly been burnin' the house down, have ya? I've been watching you two. And I can tell you're both a couple of fresh, just-outta-the-womb rookies. Haven't scored yourselves a win yet, have ya? It almost brings a tear to my eye. Not because I feel bad for either of ya. Oh, no. See, remorse ain't a quality that I possess, right along with things like mercy or pity. No, it's because I'm actually a little embarrassed to be wasting my time with either of you. But I'll tell you one thing, boys...
The Outlaw sports an evil grin as he reaches into a black leather pouch strapped to the forks of his bike. From it, he produces a thick length of chain. He wraps it slowly around one black-gloved fist. He then holds that big hand up for the camera to see.
Outlaw: You don't need to worry about the fans remembering this one. I'll make sure Blood Bath lives up to it's name. All you two have to do is show up. You boys wanna be famous? Well, I'll make you famous. Sunday. Blood Bath. No disqualifications. What do you say? Go big or go home, boys.
The Outlaw swings one long leg back over his bike and sits down on the brown stitched leather seat. He stuffs his chain back in it's pouch and slides his shades back over his eyes.
Outlaw: And that ain't all, folks! Turns out there's an added bonus! After I get through ventilating Obelisk and Future for a warmup, I get to go out into a battle royal with the entire GWA roster. Not one of 'em is gonna know what hit'em. You see, weapons in and around the ring. Barbed wire around the poles. It's like they designed this match just for my debut! Tailor-made for the baddest man on the planet. I'll see ya there, GWA.
The big man kick-starts his bike and it roars to life. A couple revs of the throttle and little else can be heard. He raises the kickstand and drives off, a cloud of smoke billowing after him from the graveled parking lot. The camera pans out to again reveal the bikers and babes about the bar. Women are lined up on a nearby makeshift stage about to be hosed down by a particularly ugly old biker in the beginnings of a wet t-shirt contest. The scene abruptly cuts to black.
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Post by The Outlaw on May 31, 2011 17:21:20 GMT -5
The Doak Campbell Stadium, home of the Florida State Seminoles, looks grand in the midday sun. The camera pans over the breathtaking entrance of the structure. Soon, there is the rumble of a powerful engine in the distance. The view shifts to the parking lot to see a shirtless behemoth of a man riding up on a bare-bones chopper. The viewers know by now that this is the GWA's newest talent, The Outlaw. He brings the bike to a halt near the main gate of the deserted stadium. No game today, and little going on, as most of the coeds are on Summer break. The Outlaw hits the bike's killswitch and he climbs out of his seat. He grabs a white wifebeater that he was sitting on and slides it over his torso. After removing his dark sunglasses and sliding them into a black leather pouch on his bike, he makes his way to the main gate. The camera follows.
There is one man working the gate. An older gentleman with a black tee, branded with the GWA logo. He offers no resistance as the Outlaw lets himself in. He walks through the circular hallway and heads into the seating area at the first opening he comes to. The camera pans out and zooms in on the center of the field, where the GWA ring is being built for Sunday's big event. The GWA crew is hard at work.
The camera focuses back on the Outlaw as he begins his descent down the stairs. He walks slowly, jingling with every step from the combination of his boots and the chain from his wallet. It sounds straight out of an old Western. He finally makes his way to the front row and lowers himself into the first seat.
He watches the crew for a moment, hands clasped together in front of him. After a while, he finally speaks, still looking forward as the ring is being constructed.
Outlaw: Fifteen years ago, I got into this business. I did just what those guys are doing down there right now. I put the ring together. I tore it down. Packed it up. And went onto the next show to do it all over again. And all the while, I was just awaiting my chance. Waiting for my time to get in that ring as a wrestler, not just some guy testing the slack on the ropes.
The Outlaw looks to the camera now, a smile on his rugged features.
Outlaw: And then I got it. Three years of busting my ass between workin' the crew and learning the ropes finally paid off. All Hell broke loose. And I never looked back. I became a champion several times over. I broke bones. I had doctors tell me I had to stop. That I couldn't do it anymore. I proved 'em all wrong.
The Outlaw looks back to the crew and their work as he continues.
Outlaw: I'll be the first to tell you, I'm not the best wrestler in the world. But I am the best there's ever been at hurting people. I've taken my lumps. I came out all the better for it. And I've learned how to do worse unto others. There's not a soul on this planet that can inflict the kind of pain that I can, and there damn sure ain't one that can take it as well as I can! I am the baddest man on the planet.
The big man looks hard into the camera to get his point across. After a long moment, his focus is back on the men at work in the field.
Outlaw: Some people don't like that I make a living out of hurting people. Some people love me for it. Those ones're sicker than I am. But no matter what you think of me, there's no denying that I'm damn good at what I do. That ring down there... that's my office. That's where I do business. And let me tell you, business is good! So Sunday, I go to work. And a lot of men are gonna be hurtin' because of it. I'll guarantee you Obelisk and Lex Future are going to get the beating of their lives. And as for the Blood Bath Battle Royal... Well, let's just say I don't plan on losing, but no matter what happens, every boy in that ring is gonna know I was there. They'll remember me, and they'll pray they don't have to see me ever again. And, as for Levi Hershey...
The man chuckles to himself then looks menacingly into the camera.
Outlaw: Levi, you're the boss. You're right about that. But, if you get in my way, I'll split your lid open just as quick as anyone else in my ring. You wanna fire me for it? That's fine, son, but you're gonna have to wake up from the coma I put you in first.
With that, the Outlaw rises to his feet and heads to the barricade that would normally separate the fans from the field and hops over it, booted feet landing heavily on the turf. The camera follows. He throws an arm in the air and calls out to the crew.
Outlaw: You guys mind if I give you a hand?
The crew is happy to accept the help and the scene fades as the Outlaw gets to work with the rest of the men preparing Sunday's setup.
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