|
Post by Osh Vaughan on Nov 24, 2021 23:06:47 GMT
Six Man Ladder Match (For a Contract that guarteeds them a Title Match for any title but the World Title)
Ethan Rivers vs JS2 vs Kieran O’Shea vs El Landerson vs Joon Lee vs "Marvelous" Marcus Fuller
|
|
Mr. Tees
Junior Member
World Renowned Sports Agent
Posts: 77
|
Post by Mr. Tees on Dec 1, 2021 22:10:19 GMT
We begin in a somewhat celebratory situation in the locker room of “Marvelous” Marcus Fuller. Fuller has just captured the NWF Canada British Commonwealth Heavyweight Championship at an event held in Calgary, Alberta, Canada by defeating the legendary “Gamer Ken” in a classic. Myself, Brophy, Temptress and of course the guest of honor are all celebrating pouring Champaign on Fuller’s head and congratulating him on bringing home yet another piece of gold. There is one person noticeably missing from this occasion Mike Roberts who is very much conspicuous by his absence. Matt Holton enters the dressing room dressed in a red and white “NWF Canada” polo shirt with a pair of dark brown chinos.
Holton: I must say congratulations are in order here as Marcus Fuller has captured yet another championship title.
Tees: I told you he would do it, I told you. You doubted me and once again I proved you wrong. This man is far from done capturing championship gold.
Fuller: I will destroy any man who tries to take what I now possess. This championship is mine and it’s staying right here in the family. Gamer Ken gave me one hell of a fight, he fought as if his life depended on it, but in the end, he simply was not on my level and like so many others has fallen in defeat at the skillful hands of the master. He isn’t the first and certainly will not be the last.
Holton: Fuller will not have much time to rest as he now finds himself thrust into another opportunity, this time in a six man ladder match in IIW against Ethan Rivers, JS2, Kieran O’Shea, El Landerson, and Joon Lee. And this is no ordinary ladder match, the winner can challenge for any championship aside from the world title. Any thoughts on this?
Tees: Only a few of those names jump off the page we will deal with them later it’s celebration time at the moment.
A bevy of gorgeous women enter the locker room as “Celebration” by Kool & the Gang blares as more dancing and celebrating takes place with the camera fading out.
We then come upon Mike Roberts and myself having a somewhat heated discussion.
Roberts: Pull him from the match and put me in. He already has two championships, he doesn’t need another opportunity to win a third. When I saw “Mike” on the card without a last name added, I honestly thought it was me and that I was being given a shot at the UK Championship. I mean why the fuck not? I certainly deserve it. But then come to find out, it wasn’t me it was that talentless sack of overrated shit Mike Arches! (kicks a trash can across the room.)
Tees: What the hell is wrong with you? You haven’t wrestled a single match here… Fuller won last week, he’s earned entry into this ladder match.
Roberts: Look at the other fuckers in this thing…. Several of them are making their IIW debuts, they haven’t wrestled a single match here either. Why am I being overlooked and they are handed golden opportunities right off the bat? What’s so fucking special about them? Answer me that.
Tees: You got me there, but look at it this way, the majority are underneath guys, they are being fed to Fuller they have no shot at winning and won’t win. You wouldn’t want to get in there and have to compete with Fuller we are a team, a family if one of us wins we all win if one of us loses we all take the hit. You will get your shot and to be honest the other titles that Fuller holds really don’t mean a hill of beans here. Hell Mike, you are the current Heavyweight Champion of another promotion and that doesn’t count for shit in this promotion you know how it is.
Roberts simply gives a verbal gesture as if to say “I get it we are cool” and the two of us fist bump.
Roberts: He better not fail or he’ll have me to answer to.
Tees: We are planning to win this thing by rook or crook but either way we are winning it. Opportunities like this don’t come along very often, and we will make the absolute most of it. Your day will come be patient.
Fade out.
Hours pass and I am now drifting off to dreamland laying alongside of my lovely wife Temptress. I fade into a rather vivid dream where I am managing Andre the Giant in a match against the Ultimate Warrior for the Intercontinental Championship. This would be around 88-89 in the first few months of Warrior winning it. in actuality, I was around five or six years old, but in the dream I am my fully grown, 40 year old adult self looking as I look today. An occurrence takes place resulting in Andre being admonished by the ref, as the ref is distracted I begin viciously assaulting the Warrior ramming his head into the apron, pulling him out of the ring and sending him head first into the ring steps. The ref seems oblivious to this and I throw Warrior back into the ring. He is now a crimson mess and some of his blood has gotten onto my hands and arms, some of it gushed onto my shirt. Warrior tries to mount a comeback, but is unsuccessful it is then something odd occurs as Warrior passes out from bleeding so much, the match is stopped and awarded to Andre as well as the championship.
Howard Finkle: Ladies and Gentlemen!! This match has been stopped due to excessive blood loss on the part of the Ultimate Warrior therefore your winner and new Intercontinental Champion… Andre… The Giant!!.
Andre raises the Intercontinental Championship high in the air, I pick up the Warrior and toss him over the top rope and out to the floor with more of his blood getting on me and raise Andre’s hand as he celebrates with the championship. It is then I awaken covered in Warrior’s blood.
Tees: What the fuck?
I awaken again revealing the previous to be a false awakening.
More time has passed and myself and Marcus Fuller are now on a promo set the backdrop being for “Red Alert” typical, old school promo/interview type area where someone in a studio “kicks it” to the person or persons speaking. I begin doing the bulk of the talking. I am currently wearing a burgundy colored suit with a black dress shirt sans a tie, and white/off white dress shoes which are not visible. In spite of being indoors, I am wearing wrap around sunglasses and carrying a black cane of some sort. Fuller is wearing black boxing style trunks with red trim, with “Marvelous” written across the front, matching ring shoes and tapped fists.
Tees: I told you, I told you, I told you but did you listen? Of course not. I told you Fuller would decimate and destroy O’Shea and he did exactly that. In addition, to the destruction of O’Shea, Fuller also managed to defeat another opponent in another place and capture the major championship of that promotion. This man is now The British Commonwealth Heavyweight Champion as recognized by the National Wrestling Federation of Canada. In addition to that, he has never lost and currently still holds the original and real Chaos Theory Championship. Not that manufactured version that was passed around like a joint in FCPW, but the real, authentic fucking thing. And at Red Alert on the 12th of December a date that will live in infamy for everyone else but glory for Mr. Fuller, Fuller will once more step into the ring he’ll literally climb a ladder and earn an opportunity to capture a third championship… effectively becoming “Marcus Three Belts.”
Tees: Let’s briefly mention the unfortunate souls who have found themselves booked against Fuller in this six man ladder match.
Tees: El Gunderson… what can really be said about you? From what I have observed… you seem like an adult version of Dennis The Menace, very childish and immature. You like to call people childish names and resort to insults because when push comes to shove, you really have nothing going for you in the ring. I see right through you and have seen countless people equal to or better than you come and go often at my hand. You may be fast… but how quickly will you really be able to move with two broken legs and a crushed sternum? This man will do whatever’s necessary to keep you down and climb the ladder to claim his prize that briefcase. Can you say the same? Living by that ridiculous “code of honor” that you live by?
Tees: Then you have these newbie fucks Joon Lee and J52… two guys who although they have never been anywhere or beaten anyone find themselves being granted the same opportunity that others in the match have actually earned by you know winning matches here in IIW. It’s just unfortunate for the two of you that the first time the IIW audience gets a glimpse of you may also be the last time. Past achievements and accomplishments from outside of IIW really mean nothing, what have you done here? What will you do here? That’s what matters but you two clowns won’t be doing much other than getting your asses handed to you in this ladder match.
Tees: And then we have the great pretender “Kieran O’Shea” I know who you really are, you know who you really are and this man exposed you as the fraud you truly are last week when he kicked your sorry ass from pillar to post and made short work of you. You will be just another victim yet again O’Shea, this time there are no rules this man can beat you and beat you and beat you until his heart’s content. No one is going to pull him off of you or save you from him as this is every man for himself. I don’t know how your history of getting your ass kicked under whatever names you wish to go by grants you an opportunity in this match. You lost, you should be headed to the back of the line in the curtain jerking match. Not being given an opportunity to earn an opportunity for a championship.
Tees: And finally… last but not least… Ethan Rivers. You had a most impressive career here Rivers but that was in the absence of this man… had your path and Fuller’s path crossed previously you would have not enjoyed the success you have enjoyed. You know it and we know it. I know you are laying awake at night worrying about this match “how am I going to win, how can I possibly get past Marcus Fuller and the rest?” and “if I do win… what’s next how can I possibly challenge for a championship and do I have a chance of actually winning that championship?” Rest easy and don’t worry about it, you won’t win, you won’t make it any further than this match as Fuller is the one who will win and advance and move forward toward challenging for and winning the championship of his choice. My advice to you is lay low, hide under the ring, don’t even come out and stay out of this man’s way. You’ll save yourself a beating, possible injury and a whole lot of humiliation.
Fuller begins speaking at this point.
Fuller: Line em all up and I’ll knock em all down. None of you fuckers has a snowballs chance in Phoenix of beating me. I am used to gang fights but many of you have only competed in one on one matches where rules were in placed to protect you and your opponents. There are no rules, no protection there is nothing stopping me from using my creative imagination to inflict anarchy, chaos, pain and misery on the lot of you. I was born and bred to win championships and compete at a main event level, but aside from Rivers the rest of you are all underneath guys, and Rivers cannot compare to or compete with me. My victory will be…. Simply… Marvelous.
Tees: You have all been warned and put on notice. The bells now toll for all five of you wanna bees and when bells start rolling heads start rolling.
Fade out.
|
|
|
Post by Ethan Rivers on Dec 2, 2021 17:22:41 GMT
(Due to some issues with posting my RP on the forums, I decided to build a hosting site for my RPs going forward. Just scroll down the main page a little and you'll find the RP. Best of luck to everyone in this match.) [/div][/center]
|
|
|
Post by El landerson on Dec 7, 2021 13:38:08 GMT
[when we saw El Landerson is in the back talking to his lovely wife Angie and Daughter Aaliyah Landerson to discuss about his match while Michael Morrison stops him]
Michael Morrison: Landerson. how does it feel to be apart of the six man ladder when you face five other men where the winner gets an future title shot for the UK, and TV in International Championship at Red Alert any thoughts Mr Landerson.
{IIW Universe cheers for Landerson in the audio background}
El|Landerson: ever since I came to IIW I was thinking of myself that when will I get a future title shot and Bam it hit me right there in the midsection when I heard that I was added to a six man ladder for an title shot for any Championship except for the World Championship on Red Alert at IIW.
Michael Morrison: but what if you can't survive the ladder match at Red alert.
El|Landerson: technically I don't know but I well tell you this though when I win this six man ladder and challenge for the T.v title or the International Champion and the United Kingdom title then I will get those Opportunity whoever walks out of Red Alert as the Champion and I will see them on the next episode of Mayhem or at The ice crown tournament on IIW.
Michael Morrison: can you even defeat JS2 and Lee in O' Shea and Rivers. this Sunday
El|Landerson: that depends on the ladder gonna turn out cause once I start climbing above that ladder and retrieve that contract and I will earn myself an any Championship besides the World Championship and I will see those fellas at Red Alert this week on IIW.
El|Landerson: in it's the six-one nine.
{landerson and his family exits out of the back when Michael Morrison continues talking}
Michael Morrison: thanks for the support Landerson. and good luck at Red Alert.
Michael Morrison: we hope that Landerson. could win his ladder match with five other men who will be the next UK Champion and the International Champion or the T.v Champion this week on Red Alert at IIW.
[Scene fades when Landerson and his Wife and Daughter heads straight back to his locker room before the ladder match begins this Sunday]
|
|
JS2
New Member
Posts: 5
|
Post by JS2 on Dec 11, 2021 19:41:20 GMT
I step out of the executive cab at the intersection of two terraced streets. It all seemed so out-of-place; my show-off of an ex-manager had insisted I "act like a superstar", but somehow the budget failed to cover decent accommodation. This part of South Manchester, a haven for landlords ripping off middle-class students, had been the only place I could get a room when I moved back to the city in September. I drag my sports bag out of the car and shut the door with a murmured "thanks". It seems absurd that I came back here to give up on wrestling, only to find myself with that familiar, grinding ache from training. I'm 35 years old. I enter the run-down, red brick house and shut the door. Hobbling up the stairs, I ponder if this is a good idea at all. I don't feel the way I used to...but then, I didn't feel great back then, either. This time, at least I have direction. Sloping into the smallest room of the house, I throw my bag into the corner and slump into the desk chair. I think about the last time I'd stepped into the ring... "Security is hitting the ring to stop JS2...he's wrought havoc throughout the backstage area with that barbed-wire bat and now he's heading for the World Champion!"
10,000 faces surround me. Cheering...for once.
Black-shirted knuckleheads storm the ring, marshalled by anonymous referees.
Everything had been a blur all night; I'd spent the opening contest sitting on the stage, in a state of catatonia.
I was almost relieved that the trance-like state was starting to return. I dropped the bat and allowed myself to be carried away as the crowd roared.
They think that this is some form of hype for a rematch. They think I'm doing this on purpose. They think I'll be back...but I won't."I believed it at the time and yet here I am. Bruised, angry and stumbling around - and that's before I've even set foot in the ring again! Scrolling Twitter, I see there has been some reaction to the abrupt announcement of my return. Of course, I'd wanted a trial run - something on a dark match, let me hit my stride. Rory, my erstwhile manager, insisted that doing so would "kill the mystique". I don't know why I let him back into the ruinous remains of my career. Of course, my opponents had something to say, too. The videos were everywhere - before I had taken a moment to address my imminent return, these faceless competitors had run riot with the concept that somebody they had heard of a decade ago might rock up like not a moment had passed. I admire their arrogance, because it reminds me of where I started. That said, if you put me in the ring with that 19-year-old upstart, I'd maim the living shit out of him. Absent-mindedly swaying in my chair, I take in what my alleged competitors had to say about me. What would once have caused a reaction of pure ego had instead awoken something more purposeful within me. They were wrong. I needed to put them right. I needed to save them from themselves. From their own self-confidence. I set up my phone on a small tripod mounted on the desk. I hesitate, considering recording. No...I'll go live, straight on Twitter. I know what I need to do. For the first time in a decade...I'm sure of it. ***** [The following is an on-camera segment, and therefore is written in the third person] The live video jitters into focus, struggling momentarily through apparent poor Internet connection. A small, ramshackle room, with a couple of generic adornments upon the magnolia walls, and a pensive figure perched on an office chair in the centre of the space.
For the first time in eleven years, JS2 is staring the camera down with a dangerously unreadable sense of purpose."It's been a while since I've done this..." The former megastar looks every one of his thirty-five years and then some as he strokes his beard in mock-consternation. The black t-shirt and track pants far less flashy than the 'punk chic' ensembles of days gone by, and the pains of a new training regime etched into his face. Nevertheless, there is a focus in the competitor's eyes that was not there during his heyday. His attempts at looking deep in thought are betrayed by the steely resolve in his eyes.
"You know...it would be easy for me to say I don't know why I'm here. To say I fell back into this by accident, and to doubt my ability.
"I'd be lying, though. Lying through my goddamn teeth."
The faintest hint of a smile appears on JS2's face as he continues, a quiet gravitas in his vaguely transatlantic voice.
"So I find myself shoehorned into a meaningless daredevil contest, a ladder match, against a group of men I've never heard of, but whose motives I understand entirely - because I've been there."
Leaning forward, the fighter extends one finger towards the camera as if counting.
"Number one; The apparently "marvellous" Marc Fuller. A man whose rhetoric is so banal, I'm almost too bored to pass comment. I like to dismantle the intentions of my opponents but Jesus Christ, you're not giving me much to work with here!"
He rolls his eyes, pausing to look around the sparse room as he does.
"You're going to inflict pain and misery? It'll be 'simply marvellous'? How very, excruciatingly original. I don't feel like you have any hidden depths here; you just have nothing to say.
"And in this industry, someone with nothing to say doesn't have much of an idea what to do, either. You've got that ridiculous mouthpiece doing the talking for you, but even he bored me to tears!"
A hint of the quick-talking flair appears in JS2...just briefly, and then the cold glare returns.
"Marcus...you claim the past battles I have fought don't matter here, but you claim yourself to be the champion of a title, a lineage that doesn't exist outside your mind. You need a reality check.
"This weekend, you'll find out what happens when a two-bit street fighter brings his fists to a fight twenty feet in the air."
Another pause, then two digits raised towards the lens, before the veteran grappler shakes his head and raises a third.
"Two...well, two AND three."
"Joon and O'Shea. O'Shea and Joon. You know you've both raised a few eyebrows, right?
"This is a wrestling company. Not a record label, not some red carpet awards do. I've no idea...nor has anyone else, why either of you think that looking good will win you any plaudits in this industry.
"I've been an arrogant bastard in my time, but even I never thought the whole 'heartthrob' thing would win a match. Both of you...take whatever pictures you want on your way to the ring and then get out of my way. Get out of the way of every actual wrestler in here."
The increasingly irritated fighter raises four fingers this time. He looks...not bored, but impatient.
"El Landerson. I thought I'd seen you somewhere before...
"But I was mistaken."
"The truth is, we all know the truth - don't we? You're a tribute act. An unthinking love letter to superstars of days gone by. Those who you might have rubbed shoulders with in your earlier days, before those shoulders hit the mat. You're older than me and what do you have to show for it? Your mask, your tattoos, your inane conversation...I'm not even inspired to knock you out.
"Get back to the school gyms and live the remainder of your career in peace. You're out of your depth."
JS2 looks into the camera and shakes his head. No counting this time, just a look of utter dismay.
"Finally; Ethan Fuller. You remind me of me...I thought I was the best wrestler in the world before I'd fought my fifth match, too.
"You seriously...LEGITIMATELY believe that you're better because...you're inexperienced? Because you've beaten a few stooges? Do you actually, honestly believe in your heart of hearts that your lack of background is a strength?"
A little anger is forming upon the visage of the returning star now. Something about the youthful bravado of Ethan Rivers had triggered something in the splintered mind of his opponent.
"You have something to learn, and fast. This is not training school. Your achievements in learning to hit the ropes, gold stars for learning to take a fall will only take you so far.
"Well, maybe learning to fall will help you at Red Alert."
JS2 laughs - without smiling.
"But the truth is, I don't blame you. I don't blame any of you.
"You're all victims of an industry that tells arrogant cretins what to do. Fans and competitors alike are tricked into performing this most hideous form of theatre...deliberately."
JS2 barely moves as the light begins to die in the window to his left; his face now cast with shadow as his demeanor grows ever more serious.
"The fans...those watching this. You're exploiting us and you don't even realise it. The reason your favourite form of entertainment exists...and I'm assuming, if you're taking the time to go on twitter and watch this, then wrestling *is* your favourite sport...
"The very mechanism that enables this industry to entertain you in ubiquity, to endlessly churn out competitors willing to get hurt for your enjoyment, is the fact that each and every one of us is an addict."
"Like any other addict; it always drags you back. now, I'm not saying I envy those with substance addictions...that's one thing I won't hold over Fuller on Sunday. But my addiction doesn't get me high. My addiction will never unlock the blissful vistas of the unconscious mind, and create new worlds to enjoy. My habit isn't going to make me write a great song."
The superstar starts smiling again - a joyless smirk that is growing more disconcerting each time it appears.
"This addiction isn't even to winning. if it was, ninety-five percent of those who step into the ring for the first time would never come back."
"The failure, the pain, the adrenaline and the chaos - that's the real problem."
"People who've never set foot in the ring ask us all the time..."how do you learn to fall?"
JS2 sits up straighter in his chair, staring down the barrel of the camera as if it were his own mortality.
"Falling is easy. I don't know how to stop."
"You get so used to plummeting, that when you hit the ground...you get back up and find something else to fall from. again, and again and again.
"...and so, it is a ladder match that calls me back into this cursed career. it speaks for itself."
"It's been ten years since I last fell from a great height. ten years since I last felt a pain that took me out of my own body...TEN GODDAMN YEARS since I felt the need to sacrifice another small part of myself to an industry that was destroying me! Like every other addict, I thought I had passed this and all the same...I could not resist the first opportunity to try again!"
The wayward star suddenly stands from his chair, now looking down upon the livestreaming phone.
"But if this must be the way things are, if I am destined to be dragged back into the ring, then I will fight tooth and nail...table, ladder and chair...barbed-wire baseball bat...
"...to make this industry change."
"To make the very fabric of professional wrestling suffer the way it tortured that eighteen-year-old me and every other stupid thing to have set foot inside the squared circle."
JS2 is now pacing around the room, as if there was room to take more than a couple of steps at a time. He looks energised, furious and yet still restrained.
"If my nature, my instinct will not let me walk away, I will use every fibre of my being to fight back. I will destroy every one of my opponents at Red Alert - whoever you are, wherever you come from; because I can make you bleed, I can break your bones but none of it will compare to what this sport will do to you."
"I may be your opponent, but you are not mine."
"Professional wrestling, everyone and everything in it, is the enemy I am staring down. I will win every title in IIW if that's what it takes to prove that I will not be destroyed."
"This industry made me a monster. I have stood up, raised my hands and apologised. Ethan, Joon, O'Shea, Landerson, Fuller...it's your turn now."
JS2 grabs the camera and hits the 'end stream' button, suddenly cutting the visage to black.
|
|