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Post by Shia Storm on Feb 4, 2008 8:05:06 GMT -4
EARLIER IN THE DAY. SHIA'S THINKING DURING THE DAY. He knew that the weasel had something up his sleeve, and it worked to perfection. Skullinator knew that they only chance he had of winning a match would be through hardcore wrestling. Using weapons in the match were pretty much legal as a wrestling hold which is kind of a sad that someone that is so big needs to advantages, and all. Same could be said for the world title match, but being the weasel that the dude was, he was about to steel the title from Joe Bruiser. Shia was just in laughter on that shit. Shia was in laughter as some poser is now the champion of this company. Some loser is holding the title right now, and that didn't pissed him off, but he felt sorry for the belt, and the prestice it had with actual worthy champions, and he felt that Skull poser was no way in ready or worthy to be holding that title. That's for sure. Time to go make a statement in that ring right now!A COUPLE HOURS LATER It was another Full Throttle. Another day, another match to be laid out. Many wanted to know what was on the mind of Shia Storm, and Shia Storm was ready to let people know what he thought. The lights go out in the arena. Lightning pyro hits the stage area above. Just when that happens, fire pyro comes up, and stays for a moment before it dies down. Shia Storm is standing right there as it does, and walks right through. You hear a **pop** from the crowd as they knew who the man is. He makes his way down to the ring, and climbs in. He already has a microphone in hand, and is ready to speak on a few things.
He puts the microphone up to his face, and a smile comes onto his face, and then shakes his head. He hears the cheers from the crowd, and just lets them getting the cheering out of their system .Last week.He stops again. It was just too funny what happened last week.Last week! That little weasel "Skull poser" knew that in a regular wrestling match, he had no way, shape or form was going to defeat me. He knew that the only way that had a shot of winning that belt was by using weapons, and oh he used weapons to the best of his ability, but you sure didn't impress anyone doing so.Pause, and a reaction from the crowd.Last week, you sure for hell didn't prove a damn anything to anyone! You hear me back there. NOT TO ANYONE!
All you proved is that you are a coward, and does not have any manhood in that overloaded body or brain yours. Its a shame that a man your size has do to things that the way you do. Its a shame that your ass is champion right now!
I suggested you think long, and hard about yourself, and how you conduct yourself. Also keep that title in your hands as long as you can because the first chance I get at that title, I'm going to take it from you. I'm going to beat the living hell out of you. I"m going to break you down, and take your damn SPIRIT!
Your soul will belong to me, and you will fall once all said, and done! You have been warned.Pause as Shia takes a moment as he looks out to the crowd, and then back at the stage area.Tonight, you get a free pass, but you better be watching your back. Tonight is another day, another life, another match!
Tonight, I'm challenging anyone who's back there for a regular one fall match up. I'm not looking for any pansies out here looking for an easy way out by throwing some gimmick at me.
Without any further a due, you can come out now!
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Post by Kenisha Williams on Feb 4, 2008 10:50:10 GMT -4
Rick Ross: Hustle, hustlin' hustlin' Hustle, hustlin' hustlin' Hustle, hustlin' hustlin' Hustle, hustlin' hustlin' Hustle, hustlin' hustlin' Hustle, hustlin' hustlin' Hustle, hustlin' hustlin'
Everyday I'm hustlin' Everyday I'm hustlin' Everyday I'm hustlin' Everyday I'm hustlin' Everyday I'm hustlin' Everyday I'm, everyday I'm, everyday I'm hustlin' Ev-ev-ev-everyday I'm hustlin' Everyday I'm hustlin' Ev-ev-ev-everyday I'm hustlin' Ev-ev-everyday I'm, everyday I'm, everyday I'm hustlin' Everyday I'm hustlin' hustlin' hustlin' hust-hustlin'
Unfamiliar music blaring through the speakers of the PA system for a familiar face. The fans turn their attention to the stage. Unsure what to expect. On cue, the big tent-like balloon looking thing with the letters M.V.P. plastered across it blows up on stage. For a brief moment, the song "Everyday I'm Hustlin'" by rapper Rick Ross plays. The fans are confused at what to expect. Then smoke begins to pour out from the front flaps and out he steps onto the stage. Human Crack in the Flesh. The last of the best. One word to describe him? That's SPECTACULAR! Yes! Jay Crack comes walking out onto the stage. The fans cheer on sight. They recognized that face. They knew who he was. Despite the little exposure in the "big leagues," they knew that face from the independent circuit. They knew that face from Ohio. They knew that face from Detroit. Little exposure, but gets greeted with the cheering masses. Go figure that one out. Kind of felt like a legend in his own mind with this kind situation. Make a few appearances and the fans volume don't seem to vary no matter how long you're out of the public eye. Oh well. He wasn't going to complain.
Walking down the ramp. All he could do was smile when he looked out to the adoring fans reaching over the barricade in hopes of Jay Crack to reach back to them. Was he going to disappoint? Hell no. He slapped the ground before standing back up and holding his arms out at his side. Pyro shooting up from the sides of the big M.V.P. tent. Continuing walking down the ramp. He reached out. He slapped high fives with the fans. Making their nights for the time being. He wasn't going to let these people pay hard money and not get the bang for their buck. Forget that. Show the fans love, they show you love back. That's common knowledge in this business. Jay walked around to the side of the ring. Walking up the steps onto the ring apron. Climbed through the ropes into the ring. Instantly running to the other side of the ring. Bouncing off the ropes. Coming back slowly to the middle of the ring. Slapping the mat. Standing up. And holding his arms out at his sides. Greeted with flash photography from the adoring masses. It felt great. Shaking his head. Smile on his face. He lowered his arms. Turning his head to look at this dude in the ring. Backstepping slightly. He walked back over to the other side of the ring. Holding his hand out over the ropes for a microphone. Ringside staff acted with haste to get him one. Now, with microphone in hand, and his music coming to a stop, it was time for Jay to address the fans for the first time in like... forever...
"Wow. So... This is what it's like to be a legend in this business, eh? Hahaha... Nah. I kid, I kid. But really now... What it is Canada?"
Pause. Cheering from the masses. They just love it when you say the town, state, or country you're in right now. It never seems to fail.
"Been gone for a good while... But I'm back baby! Back and in full effect! Time to serve the fiends. Time to get back on my grind. You know what time it is. Time to get back to business. I'm what the game's been missing. I'm what the business has been missing. The missing link, if you will. Wrestling's "Most Valuable Player." Hate it or love it. The underdog's come back to take the top spot. And I'm gonna shine nigga 'til my heart stops. Wrestling's MVP. Go ahead and envy me. Cause I ain't going nowhere. If ya don't know who I am yet, you better ask someone about me. Name's Jay Crack for all you newcomers out there. For all of you who already know me... What it is my niggas? Hahaha...
Alright.
Enough with the introductions. Hahaha..."
Eyes turn to Shia Storm. Time to get this little challenge taken care of.
"Alright. Heard you was looking for a challenge nigga. Looking for someone who ain't gonna cheat you out of a win when them weapons get involved. Well, then you ain't gotta look far. Even though I'm used to busting a nigga's head with a weapon when they let their heads get too big... I don't need a weapon to win a match. You want a normal singles match with someone who's not compensating for a lack of skill when he grabs a chair? Ya ain't gotta look no further nigga. You looking at a man with enough skill in his left pink finger..."
He holds his left hand up. Holding the mic in his right. Extending his left pinky out as he holds the rest of his fingers down.
"...to take over this business in a blink of the eye. You want a match? You got yourself one. Consider your challenged answered."
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Post by Shia Storm on Feb 4, 2008 15:12:29 GMT -4
Shia heard of this guy from the promotions that he has heard he was in, and also heard what happened back late last year when someone was targeting a stable out here, and he was one of the people involved, but didn't expect to actually see him in person since the last he heard of the this fellow, he was laying in a hospital bed.
This guy just called me the "N" word like it was normal, and guys who do that usually aren't on Shia's good side. Usually right now, he might be raising hell at the man, but Shia looked focused, and seemed unphased. He raises the microphone.
Mr. Jay Crack is it? Well let me first just say welcome back to the squared circle! I head about what happened late last year with what happened around here with people coming into for a real kill with guns, and hired professional assassins after that stable that was here at one time. Glad you persued through it. Not many comes back from a bullet as we are all humans, and bullets have no give whatsoever.
The crowd gives a pop.
Now before I begin, I'd like to address something to you that probably don't know about me, and that's fine enough because not everyone knows everyone. That word that you speak so openly: N word. Words like that do not sit well with me, and never will. Normally I'd just be swearing up a storm at you right now, and wouldn't be a good night for both of us, but tonight, it doesn't matter what is said, or done at the moment.
Its nice to see that some people unlike Skullinator that do have the balls to man up, and hide behind objects to succeed. For that, I do respect on you on that end. Now on the other hand, I don't know you ring wise because I haven't seen much of your matches, but I'm guessing that you are pretty good, but I guess I'll find that personally I assume.
Shia Storm vs. Jay Crack tonight! May the best man win!
Shia holds his hand out for a handshake with an intense look in his eyes.
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Post by Kenisha Williams on Feb 4, 2008 17:05:28 GMT -4
Raising an eyebrow. He looked around. This was a ring. There's the crowd. There's the announcers. There's the ring announcer. Didn't look like an English class. Didn't know he was in the ring with someone who resorted to insulting his speech. He hadn't said anything that sounded like a person who was clearly not educated in the English language. He didn't know what this guy's deal was. He shrugged it off. Wasn't like he was trying to insult the dude by calling him a nigga. Shit. He was a nigga. He called himself it. Oh well. Some people just have their own personal preference of whatever. Jay lifted the microphone up and began to respond...
"Yes. I did come back after taking a few bullets. As shocking as it may seen. Some people pretend with their petty gimmicks and whatever. But me? What you see before you. This... This is the real. This is what being real about what you say you are is. Not some punks talking about Brooklyn and money. Not some punk from Massachusetts claiming he knows a thing about being a thug. This is what a real thug looks like and what a real thug is. I'm not tooting my own horn or nothing like that. I'm not glorifying it or anything. Just for future reference... Instead of fake and cheap imitations coming and going... This is the real deal. Accept no substitutes. But that's neither here nor there."
Pausing briefly. Looking out at the cheering fans. They knew who he was talking about. Not too much love for the rip offs out there. Looking back at Shia. He continues...
"Now with all due respect... Remember now... All due respect... But nigga please. Get off your high horse. Quit trying to be all proper and shit. This isn't English class. We're not getting graded for how well we speak on the microphone. We're not getting paid for our grammar here. If I feel like saying nigga openly and freely, I will. I don't know you. You're right about that. I don't know where you're from. But from where I'm from... In America... We have the freedom of speech and I can say just about whatever the hell I want. Just about. Some bastards get all pissy and whatever when you slander their name and whatever. But really though... Get off your high horse. This ain't a classroom. This is a wrestling ring nigga. Wasn't meant to be an insult or nothing. It's just part of my vocabulary. No need to take offense. A'ight nigga?"
Jay laughs to himself. He was only speaking the truth.
"Now back to the matter at hand. You'll see soon how good I am. Don't worry. I do NOT disappoint. Normally, I'm up for a good match. Regardless of the stipulation put in front of me. Weapons or not, I got skills to back up my words. No doubt about that. You'll find that out later tonight. As you said... May the best man win...."
He extends his hand out to meet Shia's. Firmly taking ahold of it. Shaking it briefly. Lifting the microphone up to his lips again.
"And I will win."
He released his grip from Shia's hand. Not being cocky. He was being confident. Can't be in this business and not have faith in your own abilities. That's everyone's goal in this business. To be the best. Lowering his microphone. Taking a few backsteps. Waiting to see what Shia says or if it's a done deal.
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Post by Shia Storm on Feb 4, 2008 17:16:57 GMT -4
Shia just chuckles a bit before lifting the microphone up.
That's nice, and all, but I didn't say anything to you about your english, or anything being in some kind of class. I believe that was your own doing.
I believe that I said to you Mr. Crack that the word you use a little offensive to be using out in the open freely to me. If that's what you call normal, and don't have a problem with it, that is your deal, and so not mine.
Pause.
No one is on this "high horse" that you speak of either. Just because you say something that for sure ain't me when you speak of, I do take offensive that slander word, but like I said, I'm not here to judge you, or what you use in what manner. It doesn't matter to me at the moment.
If you want to make this personal, or whatever, go ahead, and we can go down that road, but its not my nature to make things go down that road over a word that I find offensive, and you don't. Obviously we can from two different places in our lives where things mean different. Not holding you two that. If you can get passed me, all the world to you, but it sure as well won't be easy. Good luck.
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Post by Kenisha Williams on Feb 4, 2008 17:33:39 GMT -4
He lifted his free hand up to his face. Yawning slightly. Covering his mouth as he does so. Raising an eyebrow a bit. He shook his head. Lifting the microphone up to his lips...
"Right, right, right.... That's all fine and dandy nigga."
He lowered the microphone. He used his free hand to grab ahold of the sleeve of his shirt he was wearing. Pulling back slightly to revealing a custom made diamond studded watcher made by his good friend Jacob the Jeweler. Checking the time. He nods his head before pulling his sleeve back down. Looking back at Shia. He lifted the microphone up to his lips...
"Anyways... We can sit here. We can talk until we got blue in the face over a little word. Probably resulting in insulting each other back and forth. One gets mad. Shit gets personal. And in the end, we've got the security coming out here trying to separate us.
Or....
We can call this official and say we'll meet each other in the ring. Less fuss. Less mess. We go our separate ways. We go and train for the match ahead. Get ready the fight of our lives, cause I plan on giving it my all no matter what. And we can have ourselves a match among respected individuals. Perhaps can spring into a string of matches of one of us trying to outdo the other."
He shrugged his shoulders. Shaking his head.
"Either is fine with me nigga. We can beef. Or we can act civilized nigga and just handle shit like gentlemen. The choice is yours nigga."
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Post by Shia Storm on Feb 4, 2008 17:56:39 GMT -4
Guess he's serious about this insulting thing.
I'm insulting you huh.
Right, insulting you because I take offensive to a word that you use right, but didn't say anything about your charactor, or where you come from correct?
He shakes his head.
To be honest though, I don't mind getting this match under way as um that's what we are out here for anyways, ya know, the wrestling part.
I don't have any "beef" with you as you call it, but I intend on winning this match just like you are Mr. Crack.
If you got nothing else to say or if you want to say whatever you going to say, go ahead. Nothing else to say from my end. Its pretty match, and that's it from my end.
No more needed to be said on his end. Didn't agree with the word he chooses, and all, but hey, he wasn't here to judge anyone, and he'd expect the same, but that's not all always the case. All he can do is get geared up for this contest, and starting kicking ass! Will Mr. Crack have something else to say or will this just be the start of the match now. Its all in Mr. Crack's hands now.
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Post by Kenisha Williams on Feb 4, 2008 18:12:45 GMT -4
Ugh... This fool was dense and hard of hearing. Oh well. You can't teach them all. Lead by example. Shia will find that out all too well tonight. When Jay lays his beaten ass across this mat and pins him for the three count. Shaking his head. He figured this probably was not even worth his time. But he came out here. He wasn't going to disappoint the fans. He'll just handle this dude in the ring and call it a night. He lifted the microphone up to his lips and simply said...
"Whatever nigga. Whatever you say. Just please be sure to order yourself a hearing aid when I'm done smacking you up and making your punk ass go down faster than a one dollar ho.
Ring the bell."
He dropped the microphone down on the mat. He reached over and pulled his sleeve up again. Unhooking his watch from his wrist and slipping it off of his hand. Then hen slipped it into his hooded sweatshirt's pocket. He then reached insider of his sweatshirt and grabbed ahold of a necklace he had been wearing underneath. He pulled it up over his head. Revealing a diamond studded cross necklace. Complements of Jacob the Jeweler, of course. He slipped that into his hooded sweatshirt's pocket. Then he reached down. Grabbing the bottom of his sweatshirt and the white t-shirt underneath. Pulling it up over his head and off. Folding it up quickly. He tosses it aside to the corner of the ring. Ready to get down to business.
END
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