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View Full Version : AWF Mayhem: AWF Title! The Game v The King!!!


AWF Mayhem
2003-11-15, 09:23 PM
Backstage

Joey: Well…there they are folks…The Challenger…the Champion…The King…The Game…and its NEXT!

Y3Blaster Voiceover to images of him performing his biggest moves in his biggest matches: People ask me why I compete…its simple. To be the best, the best this industry has ever seen. I’m the youngest man to ever hold the AWF Title…and I did it by beating someone, which no one except for me ever thought I could defeat. I’m a two time AWF Champion and a Tag Team Champion. I’ve been part of two War Games. Why do I do what I do? Because I want to be the highlight of the night!
JRA: See, Y3Blaster exclusively every week on MAYHEM!

Joey: That’s right…Blaster one of the finest stars in this industry…and you can only find him right here on Mayhem! And now…a match for a title he has held twice…the AWF World title!

AWF Championship: Cage Match
The Game G91 (c) vs. The King

Joey: “Well, ladies and gents, we’ve come to the time of our main event. Who knows what sort of bedlam awaits us… two men who are far from the peak of their physical conditions…”
Flec: “And they’re erecting a cage. This is gonna be interesting…”
Joey: “To say the least. The Game defending against the King… Mr Reilly as the special guest referee. The deck is well and truly stacked.”
Flec: “And look at the boss, out here already to oversee the construction of the cage.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is for the Archive Wrestling Federation Championship, and will be contested within the confines of a steel cage. The winner, and champion, will be the first person to gain either a pinfall or a submission… or the first man to go over the top or through the door with both feet touching the arena floor.”

Flec: “Kinda longwinded explanation, considering we all know the rules by now…”
Joey: “It’s just to clarify. Who knows what Reilly would have pulled otherwise. I still remember the Reilly Rules match…”
Flec: “Oh, come on – that was fun!”

A whistling noise fills the Staples Centre, as if a wind was slowly building, before the sound of guitars crash across the sound system.

Flec: “What’s happening, Joe?”
Joey: “Well… this certainly isn’t King’s music…”

Now has come the day
That I take the lead and I make you follow
Toast of champagne
Cause I came for greed and not for tomorrow
If it feels good, then it feels good
And I do it all day
You want me to play, you best bring your brain
You best bring your money

Flec: “Oh my god…”

A chorus of boos drowns out the music completely as a man in a suit and tie strolls down the aisle, flanked by a pair of bodyguards.

Joey: “He’s got some nerve…”
Flec: “That jerkoff better not be coming over here… is he even allowed to BE here?!”
Joey: “I’ve no idea, Flec. Mr Reilly stood in the ring in total disbelief… he looks like he’s about to explode. Sean O’Con is here… and he’s seemingly on his way to ringside.”
Flec: “The sheer, unmitigated GALL of the man.”
Joey: “I’d stifle that tongue if I were you, he’s coming across to US.”
Flec: “Oh, like I care. Yeah? Yeah, what’ve you got? Yeah, I’ll stand up, you backstabbing cowa-”
O’Con: “Joey! How are ya, bud?”
Joey: “I’ve been worse… Somebody want to get Flec another chair? And another headset?”
O’Con: “Who?”
Joey: “Flec… my broadcast colleague, who you just seem to have unseated…”
O’Con: “What? Oh… I thought he was just the sound guy. Sorry bout that, Flecster – if I’d realised it was you, I’d have just knocked you out.”
Flec (plugging another headset in): “I hate you. Where the hell am I meant to sit? Your two thugs are in the way!”
O’Con: “Thugs? You’re lucky they’re hard of hearing… they just pound who I point at.”
Flec: “What the hell are you doing here? Reilly had your contract iced!”
O’Con: “Oh… that reminds me. I heard what you said at the beginning of the show. And at the end of the PPV. Boys?”
Joey: “And I dare say we won’t be needing that extra chair… some EMTs may not go amiss… and Flec doing the sensible thing and high-tailing it through the crowd.”

The sound of Nine Inch Nails fills the Staples Center.

Joey: “Here comes the challenger.”
O’Con: “Oh, right… there’s a match…”

“Introducing first, the challenger… from Los Angeles, California… The King!”

Joey: “Mr Reilly’s golden boy making his way to the ring. Mixed reaction for the hometown boy. Still in pretty bad shape after the beating he took in the War Games match.”
O’Con: “Oh, happy days.”
Joey: “Why are you here?”
O’Con: “Because Ticketmaster goofed and sent some fat mark from Fresno tickets to see The Darkness. I’m here to visit my old buddies, you schmuck. Back to the match. This is a great prospect - The King going for the Title. He could do it, you know. He’s got the talent. He was gold in the Iron Gauntlet match… just such a shame what happened to him at War Games.”

King strolls purposefully down the aisle, eyeing the announce desk cautiously as he steps into the ring and starts conferring with Mr Reilly.

O’Con: “Hey… what’s that goon doing in there?”
Joey: “He’s the referee.”
O’Con: “Like hell he is… that’s not fair!”
Joey: “Excuse me, but you’re hardly one to talk about fair, after your actions the last time we saw you…”
O’Con: “Oh, will people please just move on? I have. King deserves the title on ability, not because of some crooked referee.”

It’s time to play the game…

Joey: “And listen to that reaction!”
O’Con: “I’d rather not, thanks.”
Joey: “This crowd absolutely on their feet in anticipation… and some rather unsavory chants being directed at yourself.”
O’Con: “Like I give a flying one. Let the Game come out here… he bought me this suit, he won’t lay a hand on it.”

“From St Paul, Minnesota… he is the Archive Wrestling Federation Champion… the Game, Galvatron91!”

Visibly injured, Galvatron91 limps down the aisle as fast as he can, title belt dragging behind him. He charges around the ring towards the announce table, but the two bodyguards move quickly to block him off. The HeartBrend Kid stands up from his position and points into the ring.

O’Con: “The asskicking’s that way, Erik. You already got some from me, you can’t handle it again.”
Joey: “If you’re going to be out here, sit down. Some officials out to break it up, now… trying to shepherd the Game into the cage.”
O’Con: “Savour that sight, folks – last time you’ll ever see him walk into the ring with the Title.”
Joey: “You better not be out here to try anything.”
O’Con: “Like I need to. The deck’s already stacked… King’s better than him anyway, but there’s those injuries… and the cage… and the ratbastard biased referee to worry about.”

With the cage door shut, G91, King and Mr Reilly all stand in the centre of the ring. The King is staring intently at the Game, whose attention is flicking back and forwards between his opponent, the referee and his former friend on the outside.

Joey: “And that’s before you add the distraction sat next to me.”
O’Con: “Feel free to move. I’ll carry the show all by myself. It’s what I did when I wrestled here…”
Joey: “Speaking of which, aren’t you barred from all AWF programming? You shouldn’t even be here!”
O’Con: “Not at all, Joe. Besides, what’s the Ringmaster gonna do about now that he’s locked himself in with the lions?”

Waiting for the Champion’s attention to return to him, King swings a right hand, but the Game blocks it before connecting with one of his own. Unloading with more punches, G91 backs his opponent into the ropes before whipping him across the ring and landing a high knee on the return.

Joey: “Shades of Harley Race from the Game. Big knee lift.”
O’Con: “And lord knows we’ll be seeing plenty of those…”
Joey: “Mounted punches from the Champ… Reilly stood back letting him get on with it. The Game picks up now… sets him to the ropes, no reversed by King. Clothesline attempt ducked… and a high crossbody press by G91! Reilly slow to the count and it only gets a one…”
O’Con: “Shameful officiating. He shouldn’t even be allowed in there.”
Joey: “What is going through your mind? I’d have thought you’d want the Game to lose tonight…”
O’Con: “Oh, so you think that just because I put an old friend through a few tables that changes my entire outlook? I still hate that ratbastard Reilly… I just think that King deserves better than to win the title because of screwy officiating.”
Joey: “Admirable… I think.”

As the Game pulls King up again, he lets his gaze wander through the bars to the outside, before being scooped up quickly with an inverted atomic drop.

Joey: “And the little Games may be in jeopardy there…”
O’Con: “That’s hardly news. There was never much life down there to begin with…”
Joey: “Come again?”
O’Con: “That’s something he’s never been asked to do…”
Joey: “The King choking away on the AWF Champion down on the mat… putting all his weight on the throat.”
O’Con: “Oh, come on. That’s unnecessary – what happened to the days when people would wrestle? None of this choking business – it’s disgraceful!”
Joey: “You’re a strange one to be claiming the moral high ground…”
O’Con: “Meaning what? You got a problem with me, Styles?”
Joey: “You stabbed your best friend in the back! You betrayed your employers, you let down your fans!”
O’Con: “Not guilty, your honour.”
Joey: “How? I… I fail to see how you can even contemplate denying that…”
O’Con: “The man in that ring is not my friend, he’s not been my friend for months, but I never realised it. I’m not employed by Mayhem – I’m employed by Warzone. I don’t answer to that wannabe zebra, and he’s got a heavy lawsuit coming his way for costing me my rightful earnings. And I don’t give a damn about letting down the fans. Any fans of mine will see I’m right, and if they don’t, then they’re not worth the time of day.”

Hauling the AWF Champion up, Predaking scoops him sideways and plants him to the mat with a backbreaker.

O’Con: “Go for the neck!”

His opponent horizontal, King slowly pulls himself onto the second turnbuckle and drives an elbow to the sternum before making the lateral press. Mr Reilly slides across into position and reaches two before the shoulder comes up.

O’Con: “Fast count if ever I saw one.”
Joey: “I don’t understand what you’re saying…”
O’Con: “I said the count was fast. Jesus, how long have you been doing this job, Styles?”
Joey: “No, about what you just said…”
O’Con: “Look, you think people care? They don’t – just call the damn match.”
Joey: “… King pulling the Game up now… but the Champion fighting back with fists to the gut… breaks free… backs off and a hard clothesline. Can’t take the challenger down. Headbutt. And now a waistlock go-behind… German suplex attempt… no, elbow to the side of the head by the King… Chokeslam!”
O’Con: “Oh, that’s gotta be it. What does he call that, the PPC?”
Joey: “The Patented Predaking Chokeslam… one… two… shoulder up!”
O’Con: “That count was better. Kudos to Erik for kicking out, I know guys that have had a crick in their neck for days after that move.”

Looking up in frustration, King drags the Champion up and hurls him facefirst into the steel cage.

Joey: “Did you say you’re not employed by Mayhem? But… you were drafted…”
O’Con: “You really don’t pay attention, do you? I belong to Warzone. End of discussion.”
Joey: “But…”
O’Con: “Oh, that’s gotta hurt.”
Joey: “King driving the Game headlong into the cage again… the Champion’s busted open. Ramming him into the top turnbuckle… Brendan Reilly cheering him along.”
O’Con: “Nothing like good old-fashioned impartiality. Mind, I’d probably be doing the same, so I shouldn’t judge. Where was I? Oh – new champion!”
Joey: “No, only a two count… the Game getting his shoulder up.”
O’Con: “Damn, he’s resilient. Eh, shouldn’t be surprised, I know him better than anybody.”
Joey: “Which brings me back to my question about how the hell you can say he wasn’t your friend…”
O’Con: “Oh, change the damn record, Styles. You don’t see it? You can’t tell? You’re just another one of those idiots that have been taken in, aren’t you? Sheesh. Look at that man. Yeah, the one lying battered in the ring having the life choked out of him. That’s not the Game. Sure, he sounds like the Game, he looks like the Game… or at least he did, before he went all Green Beret on us.. but that’s not the Game.”

Looking around the ring, King drops the Champion back to the mat and walks across the squared circle.

Joey: “And it looks as if the King is about to try and make a break for victory.”
O’Con: “Good for him. Why the hell he’s not going for the door is beyond me, but good for him.”
Joey: “Clambering up the ropes… trying to get a hold on the mesh. But the Game crawling across the canvas… King nearly at the top… G91’s up… he’s got a foot…”
O’Con: “Oh, that’s gonna hurt come the morning…”
Joey: “G91 pulling the King down and the challenger landing delicately on the top rope. The Game shaking the rope now… gonna be a hell of a wedgie.”
O’Con: “Will you stop calling him that? He’s not the Game. He gave up the right to be called that a long time ago.”
Joey: “I don’t follow, Sean.”
O’Con: “The Game was a cold-hearted, evil, sadistic, emotionless bastard. That’s what I liked about him. That sap of a man-hug giving, cheap-pop-getting roid-rage buffoon is not the Game.”
Joey: “Maybe he’s mellowed?”
O’Con: “Mellowed enough to not return phonecalls? Mellowed enough to be on TV improving his public image by paying tribute to me whilst I tried to rebuild my life? Mellowed enough to only call me when he thought I could get a big win for him? War Games wasn’t about friendship Joey, it was about charity. It was about him putting himself across as the kind-hearted, generous man he isn’t, whilst grabbing a slice of glory for himself. The Brendinio Heat doesn’t need charity. The Heat just needs for that worthless son of a bitch to own up to the fact that he’s a shadow of his former self.”
Joey: “Harsh words…”
O’Con: “Harsh? HARSH? Every one of them true, Joey. The Game I befriended never gave a damn about anybody else. He didn’t care what the fans thought of him. He didn’t care about paying tribute to somebody. All he cared about was winning. I look in that ring and I see somebody else… I see somebody who-”
Joey: “Hard right hands by the Game… Dragon Suplex! That’s gotta be it… one! two! Where’s the three? King kicks out, this is ridiculous…”
O’Con: “I see somebody who’s main concern is where their next pop is coming from. Out there doing it for the fans, doing it to be loved. Whilst he was out there milking my demise for all it was worth, you know how many times he called me? Not once. It used to be that I wouldn’t care about that, as that’s the Game I knew… but he can’t have it both ways.”

Staring down Mr Reilly for the slow count, G91 is oblivious to the King creeping up behind him with the roll-up.

Joey: “Schoolboy by the King! One! Two! Oh, just kicked out. The Game back upto his feet now… duking it out with the King.. swings a right… misses… boot to the gut by the King – powerbomb!”
O’Con: “All over. One. Two.”
Joey: “Shoulder up! The shoulder comes up! King cannot believe it!”

Pulling the Champion up again, King locks in a modified abdominal stretch, before flipping it out into a pumphandle slam.

O’Con: “Not so tough once you take away the sledgehammer, is he?”
Joey: “King stepping between the ropes. Looking to fly, perhaps? The Game stirring… trying to haul himself back up.”
O’Con: “I said stop calling him that. He’s not the Game. He’s a pale imitation of the Game. The Game finished long ago, he just didn’t realise and kept on playing. We’re on a new game now.”
Joey: “And what would that be?”
O’Con: “You’ll just have to wait and see, Joey. You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Joey: “King up top still… G91 upto his feet… Divebomb clothesline coming up…. NO! The Game dodged it and King just going straight into the mat!”
O’Con: “Dodged? He fell over, Styles.”
Joey: “G91… crawling upto his feet… in the corner… about ready to make a play out of your book, Sean! Superkick on the way.”
O’Con: “You see, this is why he’s lost it. He’s trying too hard to be me. I know it was bound to happen, him idolizing me and everthing, but really. Stick to what you know.”
Joey: “Galvatron91… lining it up… King… staggered in the middle of the ring… sweet chin music… no! Reilly pulled King out of the way! The Game swung and hit nothing but air… King now with the choke! PPC coming up…”
O’Con: “Shoddy refereeing!”
Joey: “No! G91 with a boot to… well, a boot to a place where boots aren’t often welcome…”
O’Con: “That’s the Game I knew and loved. I’ll miss those nostalgia moments when I’m on Warzone…”
Joey: “G91… setting it up… Pedigree… no! Backdrop by the King! King hits the ropes… elbow drop… connects! Hook of the leg. One! Two! Oh, kick out at the last by the Game. When do you go to Warzone? I can barely wait.”

Lifting G91 off the mat, King whips him hard to the turnbuckle before following in with an avalanche. Backing off to let the champion stagger forwards, he grabs him in a bearhug and drives him down to the canvas with a belly-to-belly suplex.

Joey: “King really taking over here. Heaving the Game up… and now leaving him in the centre of the ring. What’s he doing? Back into the corner… coiled like a spring.”
O’Con: “Spear time. He’s gonna break that worthless maggot in half.”
Joey: “I can’t help thinking your opinion of the Game has dropped since he supposedly ended your career…”
O’Con: “I already explained that to you, moron. But let me clarify it for you: Nobody’s career was being ended, just the activation of a clause in a contract… one which my solicitors are currently handling. And that’s got nothing to do with it, he did what he had to do, just like I was prepared to do the same. Besides, he didn’t beat me, I defeated myself. So move on and call the end of the match.”

As G91 staggers to his feet, he turns around to see the challenger rushing across the ring towards him. Even behind the stream of blood on his face, the Game is able to react in time and dodge the spear, sending the King facefirst into the steel of the cage. Ducking behind as the challenger staggers backwards, he clamps in a waistlock and delivers a crushing German suplex before rolling through and hauling him up again.

Joey: “Big German by the Game! Pulls him up… and a second! Still got it locked in… a third! Rolls through again… there’s number four!”
O’Con: “No prizes for guessing who he stole that spot from…”
Joey: “Big John Studd?”
O’Con: “Everybody’s a comedian.”
Joey: “The Game pulling King up now… sets him up for it. Pedigree time! Double underhook…”
O’Con: “Keep an eye on the ratbastard.”
Joey: “Reilly circling… The Game signalling it… oh and a vicious clothesline by Brendan Reilly!”
O’Con: “Absolutely disgusting.”
Joey: “The King using the momentum to effect a double leg takedown… slingshot coming up… into the steel…”

As King falls back, his motion catapults the AWF Champion forwards and upwards into the wall of the steel cage. But the Game somehow gets his hands in the way and grabs onto the mesh. Scrambling quickly, he shimmies up the cage as fast as he can.

O’Con: “Oh, look at him go, like a rat up a drainpipe…”
Joey: “I wouldn’t be so smug, Sean. I’ve got one guess where he’s headed once he’s out of the cage.”
O’Con: “Oh, like I care. I’ll never tire of kicking his ass.”
Joey: “King after him, though! Good resilience by Predaking… he’s got hold of an ankle. The Game actually almost home and dry… got one leg over the top of the cage. King holding the other ankle, though… balanced carefully on the top rope. Climbing the cage wall, now…”

Hanging onto both the mesh and the Game’s ankle, King does his best impression of Spider-Man as he tries to drag the AWF Champion back inside the confines of the cage. Eventually unable to shrug off the grip, G91 swings his other leg back inside and clings onto the cage wall as well.

Joey: “Both men… slugging it out now… hanging off that steel… very dangerous for either man… G91 with the harder blows, I feel. King’s losing his grip… and he’s gone! The King losing hold of the cage and falls back down to the mat with a crash! The Game’s free, now! Resuming his climb to freedom, to victory…”
O’Con (standing up and shrugging off his jacket): “To a beating if he comes near me…”
Joey: “Galvatron91… scaling the cage. What the? Reilly chasing after him… grabs the feet and… oh my god. Brendan Reilly just pulling the Game back down off the cage… landed hard down across the top rope… and now Reilly slams him facefirst into the steel. That’s heinous. Both men are down… and Reilly’s saved the match for his golden boy.”
O’Con: “Right. I’ve had enough.”
Joey: “What the? And, blessed relief perhaps, Sean O’Con has left the announce position. And he’s taken his chair with him… I dread to think what he’s got in mind. Outside referee blocking him off… oh, and a hard right takes the official down. That’ll cost him. The door not locked, of course… and the HeartBrend Kid opens it. This… is bad.”

Surveying the wreckage, Brendan Reilly starts trying to revive the King. Turning his attention away from his protégé, the Mayhem owner walks across to the Game and starts stomping on the fallen Champion. Happy with his contribution, he turns back and comes face to face with the HeartBrend Kid.

Joey: “And that’s a look that many will treasure forever… Reilly doesn’t know what to do. He’s furious and terrified at the same time! Looking for a way out – there isn’t one! Only over the top of the cage. O’Con stood calmly… smug look of determination on his face. Drops the chair…”

Glancing around in panic, Reilly makes a desperate bid for freedom via the door and tries to bolt past HBK. Quick to react, though, the former Champion catches him by the scruff of the neck and drags him back.

Joey: “The Staples Center on their feet… hard to believe for a man they almost booed out of the building earlier. Flatliner! Flatliner from the HeartBrend Kid onto the chair! Reilly driven facefirst into the steel, he’s gotta be out cold. The crowd erupting for it. HBK… picking up Reilly now… and throws him facefirst into the steel wall of the cell. Hammering away on the Mayhem owner! Taking out all his frustrations on that one man!”

Caught up in the rush, HBK doesn’t see the two combatants start to stir.

Joey: “Sean O’Con… absolutely destroying Brendan Reilly. But… he hasn’t seen… the Game is up! The Game is up and stood right behind him! O’Con up now… turn around, Sean! Turn around and get what you deserve! YES!”

Slowly turning, O’Con visibly recoils at the sight of his bloodied former friend. Time seemingly stands still, until G91 levels the HeartBrend Kid with a hard right.

Joey: “There it is! The Game laying out HBK! Pulls him up now… whip to the ropes… high knee! Drags him off the ground… another right hand… and another… HBK taking a pounding from the Game! King resting in the corner… G91 hammering away on his former partner… all the anguish pouring out… HBK struggling to get away… crawling across the mat… Galvatron91 letting him crawl away… wanting him to stand up. The HeartBrend Kid backed into the corner…. G91 with another hard right… and… oh my… a low blow by HBK. The HeartBrend Kid scrambling up the cage, now. Looking for the high road out of it. King looking on in bemusement… and Predaking is eyeing the open door! The King backing slowly across the ring towards the door… the referee on the outside is up again! The Game scaling the cage in pursuit of Sean O’Con. O’Con at the top, trying hard to get over… The Game’s got him, though… by the scruff of the neck! King… King through the ropes…. The Game slamming HBK’s face hard into the steel… they’re twenty feet above the canvas… G91 just hammering away on the HeartBrend Kid… King… he’s home and dry… through the door… and out! King’s out! King’s the new champion! The Game doesn’t even realise!”

The sound of the bell ringing distracts the attention of Galvatron91 at the top of the cage. He glances down to see the outside official raising Predaking’s hand in victory and his jaw drops. The moment is all that Sean O’Con needs, though. Shifting his weight, he lands an elbow across the jaw of the Game, before wrapping his arm underneath the head and dropping twenty feet to the mat below.

Joey: “HDD! HDD from the top of the cage to the mat! He may have broken the Game’s neck with that! The King being handed the belt at ringside… absolutely ecstatic – he’s won the AWF Championship! In his home town! He can’t believe it! I can’t believe it! The crowd can’t believe it! The Game… distracted by his quest for revenge… completely losing sight of the match he was in… and now laid out in devastating fashion by the man he used to call his best friend!”

Staring through the cage, The King and O’Con lock eyes, each aware of the role played by the other. Each painfully aware of what happened in War Games. Both men allow themselves a wry smile as they turn away from each other. The King starts to walk back up the aisle, title belt held high, O’Con turns and spits on the fallen body of the Game, before leaving the cage and hopping the guardrail into the crowd.

Joey: “The Game… absolutely wrecked in the middle of the ring. O’Con stole his friendship… he stole his trust… many would say he cost him the respect of the Mayhem locker room… he cost him the War Games… now he’s cost him the title, and very possibly much more than that. The man is a menace, an absolute disgrace. But, ladies and gentlemen, take nothing away from Predaking. A truly outstanding performance, capped by a perfectly legitimate piece of intelligent play. He absorbed the punishment, but he remained focussed all the time… and, like it or not… he’s the new Champion.”

nmathew
2003-11-16, 12:28 AM
OOC: Damn, that was some fine writing and an excellent match

IC: Damn, that was some fine wrestling and an excellent match.

Wolfang
2003-11-16, 12:35 AM
OOC: Pure gold! That was fantastic.

Sixswitch
2003-11-16, 12:46 AM
So, once again, we see that Reilly is a no good, cheating scummer. And once again, we see that O'Con is a loser. But the greatest sin of all was that the Welsh Wonder was left off Mayhem this week. I didn't want time off, and I didn't need time off. Fact of the matter is that Reilly is scared. Scared of the most electrifying superstar in the world today. Scared of the ass kicking I'd dish out to anyone crazy enough to step in my way.

But believe me, next week I'll be back, and I really will be better than ever, and there is nothing that anyone can do about that.

Tempest
2003-11-16, 12:51 AM
Originally posted by Wolfang
OOC: Pure gold! That was fantastic.

What he said.

Galvatron91
2003-11-16, 01:58 AM
The Game is back stage wiping the dried blood off after getting stiched back up.

Lisa Lovelace: Game...a word?

Game: A word? I've got two of them...f*ck off!

The Game tosses his blood soaked towel over the camera and leaves.

-Predaking-
2003-11-16, 06:14 AM
IC: Game, Game, Game.... you have been the top dog of AWF ever since its inception, while I was a low carder wrestling in dark matches.You were the main event, day in and day out, while I was a nobody struggling to make a name for himself. You were part of DX, the greatest crop of wrestlers ever assembled, while I was by my lonesome. You and Brend were the darlings of AWF, the greatest duo in AWF history. You were the best, that damn good, and respected by everybody, even me. But now.. The Game Is Over. Yes I am standing here as the new AWF champ and it's a surprise to everybody but me. I worked my ass off for this and now I am gonna savor every moment. And however you try to sugarcoat it it's true, it's true, it's damn true...that you have no friend, no ally, and now, no title. How the mighty have fallen... And now you are probably wondering what to do next. You got beatened by three men who absolutely hated your guts. Me, Reilly, and your dear friend Brendocon. Who do you go after first? I can guarantee that no matter who you go after in vengence it will ultimate be in vain. You are history now, Game, history. Better to walk away and save yourself the humiliation of more defeats while you still have your dignity intact. No doubt you are garnering many sympathies from fans but they will do you no good. So, accept the truth Game. You days as the most dominating wrestler of AWF is over. I have taken over and now I will establish myself as one of the greatest champions of all time.

And Brend.. if it's true that you are going to Warzone it'll be a damn shame. Even though you and Reilly are moral enemies I think there's a chance we can work together through our mutual hatred of the Game. If you ever reconsider and come back to Mayhem I think we can work together to dominate AWF, just like you and Game used to do. I am giving you the chance to be the top dog of AWF again and I promise I won't be doing the kissing up to the fans bit that Game had been doing. I will use Ruthless Aggression to accomplish my goals. What do you say?

OOC: OMG.. me, a AWF champ? I can't believe that I get to participate in one of the greatest matches ever written and now I am the champ. I am so pumped right now. A big kudo to everybody who participated in the writing. You came through again. I will treasure this match like you wouldn't believe. :) :) :) :)

Cyberstrike nTo
2003-11-16, 06:48 PM
OOC: Congrats King can I have the first title shot? ;)

IC: Congrats King can I have the first title shot? ;)

Tempest
2003-11-17, 01:59 PM
Originally posted by Cyberstrike nTo
OOC: Congrats King can I have the first title shot? ;)

IC: Congrats King can I have the first title shot? ;)

OOC: No! *Slaps Cyber with salmon*

IC: No *Slams Cyber with Steel Chair*

Viewfind
2003-11-18, 10:25 PM
OOC: whoa! cool match!

Congrats King!