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Thread: Quest for the Best Promo Thread

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    FWA Quest for the Best Promo Thread

    Please post your promos in here. The promo deadline is 23:59 PST on Tuesday, April 16th. This is 2:59 EST and 7:59 BST on Wednesday, April 17th. Extensions are available on request up until 24 hours before deadline. Any request made after this WILL be automatically denied unless an emergency occurs. Extensions will also be granted to all participants in a match if one participant receives an extension.


    Rest in power, Flock U

    Team Cyrus T is Best for Business

    Quote Originally Posted by Ed
    Stop the hating of the E-Feds. If you don't like something, that's fine, just ignore it and let the people who do enjoy what they're here on WC to do. Mocking them to make you feel less of a geek for being on a geek on a wrestling forum is lame. If you want to not read their posts, I can fix that for you.

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    Re: Quest for the Best Promo Thread

    FWA Quest for the Best
    Mad Kingdom vs. Mac Michaud & Sterling Jagger
    Atlanta, GA


    It’s a day before Quest for the Best takes stage in the State Farm Arena in the ATL, and there’s a special autograph signing plus meet & greet being held by the FWA at a local convention center. FWA stars and fans from across the world get to meet each other and interact, and one such thing is happening right now as we find Jason Randall and Penny interacting with some fans at their table. Randall and Penny pose for a picture with an eager young fan who is holding Fred the Cat, Penny smiles brightly while Randall sticks out his tongue and throws up the devil horns with his hand. The picture is taken and lucky young fan goes on his way, elated he got to meet some of his favorite superstars. Randall and Penny return to their seats and wait for the next set of fans to arrive.

    This is fun, isn’t it?

    Penny says with a smile, looking over at Jason.

    Yeah, I guess it ain’t so bad. I could get used to this kind of thing…

    Jason says with a shrug and a smile, Penny pats on the shoulder.

    That’s the spirit!

    Just then a fan walks up, a man that looks to be about in late twenties, possibly early thirties. He’s wearing glasses and looks like he’s one of those know it all fans, or as they’re referred to as some, a neckbeard. Penny looks at the fan, smiles and greets him.

    Hey! You want an autograph or want a picture?

    The fan shakes his head.

    Um no, I just wanted to say that the way they are using you two in the company is atrocious. You two could be used so much better, yet they throw you in a meaningless tag team match against a thrown together team of Mac Michaud and Sterling Jagger. One guy that is a shell of his former self and the other a guy that makes a mockery of all things you stand for in this business…

    Penny looks confused and is about to reply but Jason holds up his hand.

    I’m gonna cut you off right there jack. First, it ain’t no meaningless tag team match. Am I pissed off I didn’t survive in the Quest for the Best? Damn right I am, but I ain’t gonna sit around, piss and moan because things didn’t go my way. I’m gonna dust myself off and settle my business in that ring like a man with my lady at my side, actually let me correct myself, we’re gonna settle our business like a team. Yeah, Jagger is a joke and I’ve kicked his ass before but that doesn’t mean I’m not looking forward to doing so again, same for Mac. He deserves as many ass kickings he can get after what he’s done to us.

    The fan looks taken aback by this.

    I mean, aren’t you upset at all that you lost to a girl?

    You mean Izzy Van Doren? Yeah she’s a girl, so what? She’s one tough bitch I’ll give her that, she kicked my ass. She’s tougher than most of the guys on this roster, and she’s one hell of an athlete so try and give her some credit…

    The fan is flabbergasted at this and walks away. Penny turns to looks at Jason with a surprised look mixed with a smile.

    That was great!

    Well I just sick of fans like that that think they know it all when they don’t know shit. Like I said, this match ain’t meaningless. Anytime we get to team up and kick some ass together is always a plus

    Penny plants a kiss on his cheek just as a female fan walks up.

    Hi, um I’m sorry I don’t mean to interrupt but I couldn’t help but overhear you tell that guy off and I gotta say, thank you. Fans like that ruin it for fans like myself and others that are here to just enjoy the show.

    Penny answers this one.

    We’re glad that we have your support, we appreciate fans such as yourself. Will you be at the show tomorrow night?

    Oh yeah, definitely! I’ll be wearing my Mad Kingdom t-shirt too!

    We have t-shirts? How come I didn’t know?

    Jason looks confused, Penny laughs and playfully smacks him on the shoulder. Penny and Jason then sign an autograph for the fan, then take a picture, and she goes on her way.

    Seriously though, when did we get t-shirts? How did I miss this?

    Penny gives him a look that says, “Really?” She motions to the shirt underneath his jacket, which just so happens to be a Mad Kingdom t-shirt. Randall looks down and then back up and shrugs.

    Well, I’ll be damned…

    Penny shakes her head at him.

    Are you ready for tomorrow night?

    Hell yeah I’m ready, didn’t you hear me tell that guy?

    Yeah I heard that but I just want to make sure you’re really ready

    Jason looks at her.

    Of course I am! Anytime I get to kick the crap out of two jackasses like Mac and Sterling is always fun, I just hope Mac can bring it unlike the last time I faced him. Sterling on the other hand, like I’ve said before if he can’t hack it in this business he should stick to his day job. The guy thinks he’s got something big down there, but I’ve seen the truck he drives he’s gotta be compensating for something...nah, that’s Chris Kennedy and the truck he drives. No real point to that, I just wanted to take a cheap shot at that pansy Kennedy. Speaking of which, we’re the real power couple here, it ain’t Kennedy and that nutcase Bell, it’s us and Mac and Sterling will find that out the hard way…

    With that Penny places her arm over his shoulder and rests her head on him as the scene fades out.


    Rest in power, Flock U

    Team Cyrus T is Best for Business

    Quote Originally Posted by Ed
    Stop the hating of the E-Feds. If you don't like something, that's fine, just ignore it and let the people who do enjoy what they're here on WC to do. Mocking them to make you feel less of a geek for being on a geek on a wrestling forum is lame. If you want to not read their posts, I can fix that for you.

  3. #3
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    Re: Quest for the Best Promo Thread

    What a Crown Means to a Jester


    A beautiful white castle stands 260 feet high, which is around 24 stories of a regular downtown building in any major metropolitan American city. However, this is no American city. This is Pumclookia, the forgotten realm located between points A and B. There are no large skyscrapers, no technological advancements hidden behind an invisibility defense cloak, not even working internet or television. Simply put, this land comes straight from the 1700s, when kings and queens ruled their lands with stern fists and demanded citizens have an all-for-one mentality. The castle's three-pronged tips detailed each of the three ruling families thus far in Pumclookia's history. And now, the ruling family falls within the last name "Jackson."

    King Jackson regularly roams the exterior of the castle, admiring his land, which spans around 750 square miles. It's far from a large province. In fact, it's not even the size of most towns in the United States. King Jackson often looks out across the land, through the roaming hills, and can see each of the four borders. He sees straw- and wood-build houses lining the small ponds in each direction. Dirt roads for horses split the houses up. To King Jackson, Pumclookia is doing just fine.



    "Yep. Just fine," King Jackson says without any excitement.


    He turns his body with a bland expression and re-enters his castle walls. The building includes golden pillars within each major room: the dining room, the entrance hallway, the dance/party room, and, most importantly, the throne room. In this throne room rests a golden throne and a golden crown. One houses King Jackson's buttocks and the other rests upon his head in a combination worthy of only one man in the whole existence.

    King Jackson has ruled for years it seems, but really it's been months. He is the start of his second family, and his prince, Maximus, sits in the chair next to him, waiting his chance to become king. But neither show all that much pride in their roles. Neither smiles the way they once did, months ago, when they took their spots at the head of Pumclookia. Neither one wears their honor with happiness. The crown is a prop, and the throne is a chair to rest.

    A Pumclookia jester watches from a few feet away. A pain cuts his heart in half.



    "If I could spend just a day with the crown, I'd leave Pumclookia a better place."


    This sentiment has roamed through the jester's head for a while. His name is just three letters, all consonants, but the rest of the province refers to him as "jester" and follows with a cackling laugh or joke. Just the name "jester" often elicits rounds of mockery. Simply walking through the streets — er, dirt ways — gets a few citizens chuckling and watching with judgmental smiles. The jester cares little about this. He just wants the best for his home land.

    Well, he cares of others' opinion of him a liiiiiiiittle bit.



    "If I had a crown instead of a clown hat, the world would respect me. I am loved, liked even, but not respected. Oh, how a crown changes perception."


    These thoughts in his head is exactly why he fights his standing, his place in Pumclookia. Additionally, he is confident in his abilities to rule with a stern but understanding fist. He'd be more caring and progressive. He'd push Pumclookia to do the most with what it has, rather than glumly wish for the country to be more than it ever will or could be.


    "I can treat the crown and throne with love. The dog of lords can help me. We will do it together, with no one king and no one prince."


    The dog of lords is just the jester's pet dog. He doesn't talk. Sometimes he licks his balls. But he is loyal and cheerful and loved by everyone in Pumclookia. The lord of dogs also defends the jester at every turn. Honestly, the lord of dogs would make a great cohort at the top.


    "King Jackson is an unruly, unjust king. He does what he wishes, uses Prince Maximus as his muscle and guard, and bullies all others within the kingdom to do what he wishes. And time and time again, it's never enough. He's never happy enough with Pumclookia. He's never been supportive of the people, of the jester, of the bishops and rooks and anyone else. He's only chastised them and ridiculed them and asked them for more and more and more and more. He even threw down the crown upon his head and smashed it to pieces!

    And then asked for a new one to be made, as if the crown is a piece of hardware that can be duplicated and regurgitated upon request. There is no honor. There is no pride. There is no glory. There is no smile."



    The jester watched from a corner of the hallway. King Jackson happens to turn to his left and lock eyes with the jester, who is beckoned toward the throne. The jester walks slowly, with his head down, like a dog about to be chided for a wrongdoing.


    "Jester, dance for me later. Prepare something ... extravagant. Something that will make your king, and your prince, happy. Not like last time. You nearly put me to sleep. No, no. I want you to do your land, and your KING, proud. Otherwise ... I don't know what your future holds here in Pumclookia, or anywhere. It's time you did more around here than mope and do poor entertainment. Your job here is to make ME smile. I see the others laughing at you. They laugh at you, not with you. And they'll keep doing so until I say otherwise."


    The jester is sent away to work on a performance. However, the jester simply sulks back to his corner and ponders of a day when he might be in the throne.


    "Why should I be the one with the crown? I'm just a jester. The crown means the world to me, which is why I'll never get it. It's why King Jackson is who he is. He cares nothing of what the crown means, what it used to stand for. The families before him are spoken with reverence in Pumclookia. They have statues around the castle. They brought the country up and set its foundation. And in the past months, it has gone nowhere. But that is why I'll never be a king, and always a jester. I know what must happen, and the world is far too cruel to jesters. I am the ridiculed majority, not the honored minority. People will laugh at me to hide their own flaws and disappointments. They will mock me to build themselves up and shield from their internal pain. They will ask me for entertainment to fill their hollow space.

    I am their punching bag, their target practice. That is my role. But I know I can do so much more. Why should I be given that chance, among the hundreds of other Pumclookians who think the same thing?"



    The jester perks up as he dips out of the room, into a hidden hallway. His thoughts, verbalized to the viewer, now are spoken softly to no one nearby. He knows his thoughts are evidence of treason, although his mind protects them from ever surfacing to others. His words, though, are unprotected. Only his low volume can offer a shield from a wandering ear that the jester wishes would not hear.


    "Because I am a jester, and I am right here. I am the person to do so because I have King Jackson ... right ... here. I can take the throne, and the crown, if I so choose. No one expects this from a jester. They laugh and mock and ridicule. No one expects a jester to become a hero.

    "I would do the throne and the crown justice. People would love and respect me. Pumclookia would rise up and become as good as it can be. No more poverty. No more sadness. No more wayward looks from the town up to the castle wondering when help will come. I will be a leader, a hero, and someone people can turn to."


    The jester steps back into the hallway, where the lord of dogs runs up and licks his hand. The jester smiles as he looks at King Jackson nonchalantly and stubbornly sitting on his throne without any worries, fears, emotions or desires. He sees no reason to care about Pumclookia, or his own standing. No curiosity about what may be coming his way. He's simply comfortable on his throne, and comfort is far too damaging for the jester's homeland.


    "The lord of dogs by my side. I can and will one day be king. I can and will make the crown worth something again."


    Spoken a little too loud, and a little too close. Prince Maximus turns his head and scowls at the jester and his lord of dogs.


    "The Golden One" Devin Golden

    3x FWA World Heavyweight Champion
    2x FWA X Champion
    4x FWA Tag Team Champion
    Final record: 94-58-10


    Shannon O'Neal
    2x FWA Women's Champion
    1x FWA World Champion


  4. #4
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    Re: Quest for the Best Promo Thread

    ???: Camera... Spotlight... Jagger baby.


    Sterling Jagger is shown standing in front of a camera laying on the couch. He stares directly at the camera motioning it closer.

    Jagger: Drink it in... Penny I know you are watching. Penny I know you are waiting. I know that I am inside your head love. It is ok you don't have to say a single word I can see it in your eyes baby I can. I know that you are undressing me with those eyes. Just think of all the things we could do. You got quite the imagination so I will leave it to you.

    I know... I know...

    You are with Jason Randall and he is suppose to be this rough tough scary guy but see you he's not a man at least in that sense. I bet he likes to watch. I be that it turns him on. I bet he likes it when you are getting it.

    Sterling starts to mock a moan.


    Harder...Harder...Harder...

    That's right.

    I am more man then he will ever be. At Quest For The Best, I am going to show you just that when I do things to you that you could only dream of. I am going to show The Mad Kingdom that you are nothing compared to a perfect 10.

    See Penny understand that this doesn't pertain to just the bedroom. No...No...No... See this is when Jason has to watch you from ringside as I get to put these hands all over your nice tight little body.

    Jason is a Cuckold.

    He loves it when you get touched by other men hit degraded broken. Time after time he places you in danger and time after time you are the one that gets hurt. You are the one that gets broken. You are the one that has to pay the piper because he is weak. He is not the man you think he is.

    Jason you are a zero and its time for Penny to get with a perfect 10. The truth of that matter is no matter how hard you try you can NEVER and I mean EVER measure up to me. I am better in that ring, I am better on this mic, I am a better lover, a better fighter and you are just a nobody. How does it feel Jason.

    The spotlight belongs to me and even if I got to share it with Mac the spotlight is mine. The money the fame it all belongs to me. I am the best damn thing going in this company and I refuse to be held back by the likes of people like you Jason. Randall, you are happy adequate with being nothing more then average and see that's the difference between you and I because I thrive I NEED to be more.


    Sterling Jagger usually pretty laid back persona has changed he looks at the camera throwing his shades across the room and is being dead serious.


    You will rue the day that you follow with this mentality of being average because I am a star. I am better then you are like I said Jason. I am not being egotistical I am just stating facts because boys and men are not even in my league baby. I am ready for a war you are just ready to fall in line like the little cuckold you are.

    Don't worry Jason I will humiliate you. I will expose you as the average unaspiring loser you are . There is nothing you can do but watch me as I do it.

    Sterling Jagger pushes the camera away leaving with a serious tone being sensed.




    Spoiler:


    CWA World Heavyweight Champion
    Brayden Bridges




  5. #5
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    Re: Quest for the Best Promo Thread

    The Bell rings loudly and class is now in session. It’s a rather nondescript classroom, the same as any other really, full of a random collection of motley students. Though sitting at the back of the room swinging on her chair and resting her feet up on her table as she chews gum is one student that stands out from the rest. Her dark red hair is mostly shaved on the side of her head, she’s dressed all in black and various tattoo’s cover her pale skin. She seems completely indifferent to everyone else around her, even as the door opens and into the classroom steps a Goddess. She casts her gaze around the room which instantly falls silent. She gracefully and slowly takes a few steps towards the front of the room as everyone except that one “Punk’ follows her every step with their gaze. She is a vision of absolute beauty. A visual fantasy come to life. A Goddess blessed with the curves of a Succubus, and the smile of a Demon all wrapped up in that Caramel hue. Today her typical Louboutin Stilettos are replaced by a more simple pair of high heeled boots. A black mini skirt with a small slit up her right thigh hugs her hips. A white blouse, ever so strategically unbuttoned as to hint at her ample cleavage caresses her upper body. A gold necklace, and a gold pair of hoop earrings sparkle almost as brightly as her soft, alluring skin does. Her attention falls upon the gum chewing Punk for but a moment before she smirks blissfully and slides her thin black glasses down to the tip of her nose.


    Gabrielle: Class, I am Miss Montgomery…your Teacher for the day.

    Her deep brown eyes scan the classroom once more, before falling upon that visage to Izzy Van Doren.

    Gabrielle:
    And I just know that some of you desperately need a lesson in so many, many things. But class as we approach the latest edition of the Quest For The Best Pay Per View, what is it that you all think we need to learn the most?

    Student 1: High Flying moves.

    Student 2: Submissions.

    Izzy’s Visage: Boooooring.

    Student 3: History.

    Gabrielle casts her gaze in “Izzy’s” direction once more, and then clasps her hands together excitedly.

    Gabrielle:
    History, that’s perfect…

    The Caramel Coated Goddess come Caramel Coated Teacher approaches the desk of her Punk student as the rest of the class make sure not to be in her way.

    Gabrielle:
    Because you need a history lesson…little girl. You think I’m just some pretty face here on a nostalgia tour? You think I’m just all smiles and waves to the crowd? You think I’ll succumb to the extent’s you will go too to beat me? You have no idea, but you really need to know, you really should know by now. You owe everything you are too me, you owe every opportunity you have ever received in this life to me.

    Everything I have done…

    And you think I don’t possess the ability to do whatever it takes to win?

    Well let’s start our little history lesson right now.

    Gabrielle pauses for a moment and smiles sweetly, though there’s a hint of malice in the corner of her eyes.

    Gabrielle:
    I’m the Goddess who created a Mountain for the best female athletes in the World too climb and become Immortal upon. I’m the Goddess who raised the bar for what constitutes “Elite” in the World of Women’s Fighting. I’m the Goddess who changed perceptions and defied perceived limitations. I’m the Goddess who made anything and everything possible for every single woman that came after me.

    You don’t have to thank me Izzy, but you do have to understand what all that means, what all that makes me, and what it makes you in the grand scheme of all this.

    But lets delve into some History that might just be a little bit more fun and enlightening…for us both…

    You see those were just a few examples of some of my greatest deeds, some of my most important acts in this World. A few footnotes on how I have changed everything that a woman can achieve in this World. How I have changed everything that is expected of a woman in this World. No longer do we all just have to aim for the best that we are given, or allowed…we can aim as high as we want too because I made it so. I eliminated the limitations.

    But not everything that I have accomplished has been for the betterment of all the women in the World…some things have just been to see how brightly my name and my Legacy can shine.

    The corners of her mouth upturn ever so slightly in a mischievous fashion as her eyes are locked upon that imitation of Izzy Van Doren.

    Gabrielle:
    I’m the one who ended Drew Stevenson’s career. I’m the one who brought an end to Rocky Creed. I’m the one who made Shannon O’Neal think she could compete on my level for a fleeting moment…then brought her crashing back down to reality. I’m the one who used the love a father has for his children…to see my arm raised.

    I’m the Demoness who had the World rioting as I held the FWA World Championship above my head as Executive Excellence stood beside me. I’m the Demoness who had the World begging for anyone to dethrone me as the Great Siege stood beside me. I’m the Demoness who shattered the dreams of so many by denying them the Glory they had worked their entire lives for. I’m the Demoness who will do whatever it takes to enshrine my Legacy and my Life in a gloriously bright light of Caramel.

    The Caramel Goddess, aka the Lady in Black (Skirt) pauses for a moment as she looks down upon the classrooms Izzy Van Doren who has dropped down to her knees before this Deity of Unimaginable Triumph and Sinful Sensuality.

    Gabrielle:
    Every single thing that you want to achieve in your career and in your life I have already done. I Revolutionised everything. I changed the World itself, I changed the future for Billions of people. I’ve had the Romances, I have the sweetest little Daughter, and I have a…generous Fortune that serves my every single whim and desire. I have it all.

    What do you have Izzy? Besides a bad attitude, some cheap tattoos…and just enough potential?

    For so much of my career I heard that I was holding the other women back, that it was all about me and none of them could get out of my shadow. So then while I was at home relaxing for several years what were you doing Izzy? Bell and Shannon won World Titles, but what have you done?

    What have you done that makes you think you are special enough to be in this position…again?

    You talked a big game for a while, you ran my name through the mud, you tried to mock me while I enjoyed my retirement. So I did what I do better than anyone else…I humbled you, I bettered you, I forced you to realise you are beneath me in my first match in three years. But you couldn’t handle that loss, you tried to break my arm…

    Gabrielle leans in towards “Izzy” and smirks as she glances down at her own arm for a moment.

    Gabrielle:
    You of course failed at that…but you did manage to rise to the occasion in this Tournament, this Quest For The Best. I’m so glad you did. I’m so glad that for once in your life you did something you said you would do and you made it this far. For a moment I was done with you, I showed the World, including you just how great I still am…but it wasn’t enough and now we have more than just bragging rights over one another at stake here. Now this goes above just me and you doesn’t it?

    But history tells us that doesn’t matter, history tells us that I am simply superior to you Izzy. I know it’s a hard pill too swallow, I know that when you started running your mouth you had this idea in your head that you would best me and make a name for yourself in doing so. I was meant to Revive your career…but instead you Revived mine, you became just another person that wound up laid out before me.

    I was happily retired, I was happy with my Legacy, I have done everything there is too do after all. All I saw in my future was a Hall Of Fame induction. But now I see so much more, I see myself standing above you triumphant once more. That moment will become history, that moment will be revered and relived for decades to come. That moment will be joined by so much more, by Triumphs over Bell Connolly, over Chris Kennedy, over Cyrus Truth and over anyone else that stands before me in a ring.

    History is just not on your side, is it?

    Everything I have achieved put against what little you have accomplished. Things are skewed mightily in my favour. Championships that you’ve never even seen with your own eyes have rested around my waist. History my dear sweet Izzy is all on my side. Because of everything I have done, and because you refuse to respect the history of all this.

    Gabrielle stands up straight and gazes around the room at all the other students who silently watch this Punk Student getting a history lesson.

    Gabrielle:
    You have defied me for too long already. You have sought to deny me what I am. Acting like I am just another woman and not the Goddess that I truly am. All my grand deeds, both good and bad and yet you dare to think so little of me. You dare to think you can be the one to truly better me. You act like I am taking from you your potential and your time you feel you are owed. But Izzy I am simply taking back what I have given you through my hard work and sacrifices. You’re not special, you’re not unique.

    You are cliché spouting opinions and insults that I have had to overcome my entire life. But on top of that you think I am done, that my best is behind me…

    The Goddess outstretches her arms either side of herself and gazes down upon “Izzy”.

    Gabrielle:
    Izzy Van Doren…Welcome to History…

    At this point the rest of the Students are all kneeling as well, as all eyes are upon Gabrielle herself. All eyes awaiting Izzy Van Doren to just become another part of the History of Gabrielle.


  6. #6
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    Re: Quest for the Best Promo Thread

    Exile Chronicles (Chapter 2)
    Volume 4: All In

    “I think that the good and the great are only separated by the willingness to sacrifice” - Kareem Abdul-Jabbar

    Just days before Quest for the Best, a new video is uploaded onto FWA.com. As the video plays, the scene opens up to a pockmarked, weathered table with a green felt top, looking stained and torn due to several lifetimes of use. The only light comes from an overhanging, bare-bulb incandescent light, but it’s enough to see that there’s someone approaching the table from behind.

    The figure carries the FWA World Heavyweight Championship in his right hand and a deck of cards in the other. As he sits down and we get a good look at the face of the champion, we see an expression that speaks of both defiance and want, an expression of someone seeking something with a unyielding fervor. Cyrus Truth places the World Title on the table next to him next to a large stack of poker chips as he begins to shuffle the cards, slowly and rhythmically.

    A lot has happened in the Fight Nights leading up to this next title defense for The Exile. Shannon’s fervor, Bell’s deception, and the announcement that Chris Kennedy was going to be the special guest referee...it seems that, regardless of Cyrus’s recent successes and what command he has over the World Title scene, he is destined to lose the belt one way or another. And even in the normally reserved and collected visage of the Wayward Warrior, it’s obvious that all of this has been weighing heavily on him.

    However, when he speaks? He speaks with a tone of conviction, of utter relentlessness.

    “You can hear it, can’t you? You can hear that pained, weezing gasp clearly enough if you’ve the ear to listen for it. It’s the final dying breath of the ghosts of FWA’s past. The ghosts of those who would rather live and sustain on the false glories rather than pursue true greatness. Anybody can see that this match is the death rattle of the “I deserve this” attitude that has festered in FWA well before I ever arrived. The kind of pathetic display that says “I should be, I must have, I’m owed this.” Ever since I’ve arrived in FWA...no, ever since I became a wrestler in the first place, I’m made it my goal to eradicate that kind of attitude. And while I’ll admit that I had my own stumbles and falls, I’ve never once abandoned that dream...and the dream to prove that I can rise above that and become something more than legend.

    “I will admit, there is a certain part of me that admires Kennedy and Bell’s attempts to stave off the future that I see for FWA. They are exerting a lot of energy to save a dying paradigm and they’ve certainly stacked the deck. Sowing discord between me and Shannon, and having Chris be the one to ultimately make the three count or submission to determine the winner. They have done an almost impressive job of setting themselves up for success, as it were. By all rights and by every conceivable outcome, there really should be no way that I emerge from this match your World Champion.”

    Cyrus finishes shuffling the deck as he starts dealing out the cards for three players, despite the fact that he’s the only one sitting there.

    “Of course, Shannon isn’t in a much better position than I am. Clearly, all this is set up for is for Bell Connelly to take the fast count to the World Title. Although I would wager half a guess that, should the worst come to pass, those two jackals would rather see Shannon emerge as the winner rather than me. Not because they respect Shannon more, because respect is something they only pretend to have for one another. No, it’s simply because I refuse to accept Bell as anything other than a nuisance and I refuse to bend my knee to the almighty Chris Kennedy. Whatever disdain they have for Shannon is nothing compared to the hatred they have for me. Regardless, in the end the Truth is quite simple. Bell and Chris have done everything in their power to ensure that I lose the title and they regain it, with as little risk to them as possible.”

    As Cyrus deals the cards out Texas Hold’em Style, he purposely flips the cards up for his phantom opponents, revealing a queen and a king for one and a queen and an ace for the other. His own cards, however, remain face down. As he finishes dealing and sets up the flop face down, he repeats to himself the same phrase:

    “Without risk…”

    With the flop, turn, and river face down on the table, Cyrus looks at the cards on the table and sees what his “opponents” are holding. He dismisses them as he continues to speak.

    “You know something? There’s always been something that bothers me about those who enter our line of work when it comes to pursuing titles and accolades. There’s always risk involved, regardless of who you are or what you’re seeking. It’s a constant in our line of business. This is something I know Shannon understands...or at least, she did when we first faced off for the World Title. I was at my absolute cruelest at that time, and even at my kindest I have made it clear that wrestling me always carries a price that you can’t ever recoup. Yet Shannon didn’t falter and faced me head-on, even though it caused her great pain. Yes, she eventually crumbled under the weight of the title, but in that moment? At that Back in Business? She soared despite the great sacrifice that was demanded of her...the sacrifice I forced her pay.

    “But what bothers me are those who try to find ways to lessen the risk in pursuit of championships and glory. Or even eliminate the risk entirely. It’s something I don’t fully understand. Sure, from a rational standpoint, you may be thinking that it makes perfect sense. If you can acquire something with less risk than by taking a more dangerous path, why wouldn’t you? It seems like the smart...no, like the only sane thing to do.”

    Cyrus turns over the three cards for the flop, revealing a pair of queens along with an ace. For the two phantom opponents, they both have three queens, but the one with the ace has the advantage with a full house, queens over aces.

    “There’s just one problem with that line of thought. That being, when was wrestling ever a rational sport? We’re not businessmen, we’re fighters. Risk is our constant dance partner. Risk is part and parcel to what we do. We risk our bodies and our spirits every time we step between those ropes. And though it costs us greatly, we do this because we love this sport...and because what I’ve said time and time again is true.

    “‘For glory, one must suffer greatly.’ That isn’t just me saying it. It’s the very heart and soul of pro wrestling. We sacrifice night in and night out because we know that the world sees our struggle, and sees the lengths we’re willing to go through just for a shot at immortality. And by paying the price that glory demands time and again, Do you understand? Trying to take that risk away defeats the purpose of competing in that ring. What good are titles and accolades if you gave up nothing of yourself to get them? Throwing away your pride is not the same as risking your health and your resolve...and deep down, Chris? You know this.”

    Cyrus, with a slight grin, flips over the turn, revealing a king. Now both phantom players have a full house, albeit the one with the ace still has the better hand.

    “You have coasted this far on reputation and hype. Your talent has afforded you a great many accolades, but instead of constantly seeking to prove yourself against better and better opponents you instead resort to finding ways and means to add more notches to your belt by gaming the system. It’s absolutely astonishing just how much of a legend you should be at this point, but how often you refuse the call to pursue true glory. Just as Bell has leeched onto you, now you leech onto her. And knowing full well she isn’t capable of getting the job done, you tip the scales even further by inserting yourself into a match you don’t belong in. Not because you want Bell to succeed for Bell’s sake, no...but because I called your bluff and refuse to bend my knee to you. I refuse to acknowledge your greatness and your undisputed superiority because you don’t possess it, and it infuriates you that I don’t fall in line with the rest of the roster. Honestly, what were you expected? What king would bend the knee to another king?

    “Bell, you foolish little girl. You’re about to be spoon-fed a title that you do not deserve and you think that’ll make you a queen, a ruler above all. But you’re too engulfed in your own inadequacy that you fail to see that it’s not a queen standing above kings…”

    Cyrus turns over the river card, revealing another king. The tide has turned...now the player with the queen and the king have the better hand...

    “It’s kings over queens.”

    At the last moment, the player with the queen and the king has taken the lead from the one with the queen and the ace...but only because such a victory was handed to them by a lone king at the river. Meanwhile, Cyrus’s cards remain face down on the table. However, there’s a glean in his eyes as he looks over to the empty chair with the kings over queens.

    “Bell, you have risked nothing to get this match. And you’re being handed victory by a man who only wants to use you to bolster his own pride. The saddest thing is that you likely know this deep down...but you don’t care anymore. You’re too far gone to realize how pathetic you truly are, and you’re feverishly begging and pleading for even a taste of glory like a dog begging for food scraps from her master’s table. You may come out this match with my World Title in your hands, but you will not emerge any true champion. Holding a title means nothing. Having a belt handed to you doesn’t make you great. I have said this time and time again, and it’s a lesson I seemed destined to continue to try and beat into your thick skull until it finally dawns on you, and you realize just how meaningless all of this truly was for you.”

    Cyrus then turns his gaze to the "player" with queens over aces.

    “Shannon isn’t risking much either. At the end of the day, win or lose, Shannon will not have suffered any great setback. She’s playing with house money, and even in defeat Shannon stands to gain far more than she brings into this match. I don’t know which Shannon O’Neal will show up at Quest for the Best, but if it’s the Shannon that showed up to beat me at Back in Business a year ago? Then she will have lost little and gained so much. I know Shannon will fight like hell to win this title despite it being a sheer uphill battle. And if she does win? She’ll have earned it, unlike Bell. But even in loss, she can and hopefully will emerge with far more than she was asked to pay. I don’t fault her for that...but at the same time? How far will she be willing to go when she has barely any skin in the game? I suppose we’ll find out when the bell rings and she’s face-to-face with myself and Bell.”

    For the first time, Cyrus’s gaze turns to his face-down cards...and then to the stack of chips next to his World Title.

    “Bell has sacrificed nothing. Shannon is playing with house money. The only one in this Triple Threat who’s risking anything is me. FWA, in their infinite ‘wisdom,’ have decided that I and I alone must be asked to put something on the line in this match. Neither Bell nor Shannon have been asked to put anything up as ante in this match aside from what they’re willing to sacrifice once the bell rings. As for me? My title is on the line. My legacy is on the line. My vision for FWA, my pride, EVERYTHING I have ever worked for? That is what is expected of me to offer in this match. To even stand a ghost of a chance of continuing my reign, the price asked of me is not just steep, not just staggering...it’s ALL. To be asked to pay such a price would break most men, would cause them to hesitate and even falter at the enormity of the sacrifice. For most, it would be too much. For most, it would be better to just cut your losses and survive to play another hand.”

    And without skipping a beat, Cyrus pushes all of his chips and the World Title into the center of the table. He then looks at the camera with a look of pure, absolute resolve.

    “I am not most men. I am the one who opens the door. I am the one who walks the hard Road. I am he who stands in defiance of pretenders and false idols. I am the FWA World Heavyweight Champion...I AM CYRUS TRUTH! If the price to continue walking this path is to risk everything, then I am all in! If FWA insists that I must risk my legacy, my title, my health, and everything that I ever was or could be to prove that I stand above all on my own merits, then take it! Take it all! It’s a price I pay willingly and will continue to pay until victory is mine! I step into this match at Quest for the Best without fear or any regrets. I will walk into this ring knowing I face a nearly impossible challenge...and I welcome it to show once and for all that I am not where I am because of a name or a cult of personality. Nor am I here due to happenstance or who I choose to associate myself with. I am here because I belong here. I am the World Champion because I deserve to be. The odds be damned. Chris Kennedy be damned. Whatever the payment is asked of me to beat back the tide of avarice and stem off the vultures looking to peck the flesh from my bones, I will gladly pay. Because there’s no other course to take for one who seeks glory, one who seeks to have his words and deeds immortalized for all eternity.

    “That is who you must contend with, Bell and Shannon. None of this should surprise either of you, as you’ve both shared this ring with me on numerous occasions. But what will surprise you is just how fiercely I will struggle to keep my grasp on the title I’ve earned. Because the stakes have been raised far higher for me than they ever have before. So...ante up. You won’t be able to win this without matching my gamble. Of that, you can be certain. And realize that once that bell rings, you both will face everything that I am, with a power and a ferocity like you’ve never seen before. The World Title and what it should mean and will mean again is everything to me. And with so much on the line for me, do either of you honestly think that you’re prepared to weather the oncoming storm that I will bring? This is it. This is everything I have. And I’m not about to let it slip through my grasp without a fight the likes of which will make Hell itself shudder!

    “At Quest for the Best, I do as I’ve always done...achieve the impossible. And it’s only then that Shannon, Bell, and especially Chris will learn yet another hard Truth. It’s not queens over kings or kings over queens…”

    Cyrus stands up and flips over his cards...revealing a pair of aces, and the winning hand.

    “It’s Aces over All.”

    There is a slight “thum” noise as the table shakes, knocking over the stacks of chips that Cyrus had pushed into the center, leaving it a pile. Cyrus snatches the World Title from the pile and slings it over his shoulder, face plate behind him.

    “Come and take it...if you think you can survive the attempt.”

    Cyrus turns and walks away, light reflecting on the shimmering gold of the FWA World Title belt as he vanishes into the dark. The last shot is of the table and the pair of black aces on Cyrus’s side of the table.

    The Exile has drawn the line in the sand.

    At Quest for the Best, despite the odds being astronomically against him, he will show up and prove why he is the one true Ace of FWA...and continue his march towards immortal glory, no matter the cost...

  7. #7
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    Re: Quest for the Best Promo Thread

    “Those were the days my friend, we thought they'd never end” the sound of Mary Hopkin’s song playing from the car radio. Jackson is bemused by the song that has come on. Viktor’s face lights up and slowly sings along in Russian. “Дорогой длинною, Погодой лунною”. The pair are travelling to their Tag Team title defence. Jackson, unusually, is driving them. They are driving through a run down area of a town along the way. The pair aren’t really sure where they are but know where they are going. The tag team title belts sit in the back seat proudly on display. Jackson turns off the radio. Viktor pouts slightly as he was singing along with the Russian folk song he grew up hearing.

    Jackson: You know something Viktor. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking. That is what long car rides do to me but I want to tell you now. Thoughts can be dangerous. More importantly, I broke my cardinal rule. I’ve started looking back. I looked to the past and started thinking about how things were back in my day. What have I said over and over?


    Viktor: Never look back.

    Jackson: That’s right. You can be consumed by the past. Maybe too much. Maybe it affects the future too much in your mind. Maybe you look back and realise that those days would remain forever. The days where I was feared for my name, not for the monster I have unleashed. Where I was main eventing. Where I was the show. Where I was invincible, but enough looking back, like I said. Dangerous. You think so much about what you used to be, not what you still are. It clouds your thoughts. Those old people who are bitter, who do nothing but spew hate are just consumed in how thing used to be. They cannot look at the past without rose tinted glasses. How things used to be when there was no “smut” on television and when music was “clean” and they could do whatever they wanted. They cannot accept the present. They shape their futures with their pasts. That is why I don’t want you dwelling on the past because people struggle to separate it when shaping their future because it slowly infects everything and that is why I look at what I am right now. I know that I am still a force in this world. I am still dangerous because together, as the project, are dangerous. Why else would we be Tag Team Champions?

    Viktor: Because we are the best team in the world.

    J
    ackson: Maybe we are, but for me? Is it as easy as it used to be? No. Every day gets harder as you put more and more matches on your body. You can’t quite be what you used to be but that is what it took to take me from the top. It wasn’t talent or anyone being better than me. It was me but I was not half the man I am now. I have you. Someone to invest in. Someone to believe in. Someone to stand beside and be proud. I have had a lot of tag team partners in my career, both in and outside FWA, and none of them compare to you. None of them have invested themselves into this. You have taken on what I have said. You have applied what I’ve said and because of that we are the Tag Team Champions. We make each other dangerous and I don’t need to wake up feeling dangerous to perform. I just perform. I am not the man I used to be, but sometimes, Viktor, you don’t want to be the man you used to be. I have shaped our future and our project with my past but also the pasts of those around me.

    Jackson turns off onto a side street and pulls into a space on the side of the road and just looks at Viktor as he starts to respond.

    Viktor: So, you are happy you are not the man you used to be? Surely, you want to be at the very top of FWA. That is what I want to be. At the very top.

    Jackson stares out straight ahead. He spends a while thinking about his answer. He wants it to be measured. Viktor sits across from his mentor waiting expectantly for an answer.

    Jackson: That is a difficult question to answer Viktor. I am happy with everything I’ve achieved, and I want to be happier with everything we might achieve. I don’t care about the man I used to be because it does not shape my future. My future is decided. I want to shape your future with my past and the pasts of those who we face. I want you to be force you can be so, with that, I want to take you back. To when one of our opponents, Lord Dog was nothing. He meant nothing to anyone who mattered but such is the wrestling business, he was beloved. It boggled my mind, but the more I thought about it. The more I came to the same conclusion. Losers love losers. He was a cult hero amongst the FWA fan base.

    Jackson shakes his head in disgust.

    Jackson: What a monstrous thing to be. A lovable loser. Disgusting. Viktor, my word for it, is loser. There are many sports teams that are like that or were previously, The Chicago Cubs and The Cleveland Browns are two American examples you won't understand. There is nothing lovable about being a loser. It is dehumanising and I could never imagine a world where I, as an adult, am a loser. You think the people who suffered through the misery enjoyed it? I’ve seen what it is like to lose. It is not pretty. It’s horrid. I never want you to be a loser. I never want you to see that. My plans for you are grand. I want you to learn from a former loser that used to disgrace the ring. I want you to learn to not be a loser but I also want you to learn about the ability to persevere to keep going when it is tough, like Lord Dog. He smiled through being a loser. He smiled in the face of pain. That is at least admirable, but we cannot treat Lord Dog as the man he used to be. He has clawed his way back and he is now a man who deserves some respect. He is a man who is a legitimate wrestler in this company. He’s adapted to his environment and the changes that have come. Just like me. He is a comeback story but he is not a success story and we need to make sure that remains. He did not allow his unsuccessful past shape his future. So, Viktor, how can Lord Dog’s past shape your future? You know what I want from you?

    Viktor: To never stop. I never want to stop already. You have already taught me that. That is why you chose me? Right?

    Jackson: You will learn why I chose you, but not today, it will be when z3r0 comes. This is not the time for it. You are right. I have taught you this before but I will never stop teaching you this. I don’t want you to be complacent, like I have so many times before. Complacency is the biggest killer in this industry. It is the biggest killer in humanity. The greatest empires known to history all fell because of complacency. Burned to a crisp from their fat, like bacon. Viktor, never, ever become complacent so that you will never, ever become a loser. So that you will never see the things I’ve seen or do the things I have to do. Once I get to the point, I want you to tell me your story. I want to know you, Viktor because if we know each other we cannot be defeated. We are not a team thrown together out of desperation. We are a team of destiny. Can’t you feel that? Can’t you feel that we are more than just two guys who had nothing better to do? A fading cult hero and some weird dude. That is all that stands in our way. We put our foot down and we win. We demonstrate our talent, speed and power we will win because when we are at our best there is no team that can match us. That is our advantage. We are a team. In this car we are brothers. We are alone. We do not need anyone else. In that ring we remain brothers. That is what our advantage is.

    Jackson and Viktor are turned and facing each other now. Staring intently at each other, laser focused and fully engaged in the discussion.

    Viktor: But even though we are the better team we cannot be complacent. I know that when the bell rings my job is to do one thing. Destroy. Whether it is the Lord of Dogs in front of me or whether it is XYZ. XYZ is a strange man. We have seen many strange men like him in Russia but they do not get seen very often once they are spotted by government workers but this is not about Russia. This is about XYZ.

    Jackson: Yes. Yes it is. X, Y and Z. The last three letters of the English alphabet. The three least used letters. Maybe his name is reflective of him. Three letters that mean nothing. However, thought that would be a good idea? A man who is an idiot but that works for him. He was thrown together with Lord Dog because like I said they are useless alone. Our plan is to isolate and destroy. Together they might pose a threat to us but when we separate them, they are weak. You have grown strong Viktor. You can survive in matches without me. They cannot survive without each other. Now, Viktor, I know you have a plan for XYZ. You seemed pretty worked up about him earlier.

    Viktor nods his head and scowls.

    Viktor: Yes, Yes. I have grown and I will show you more. I will make sure that XYZ is dealt with. He is like many of the men I described in Russia. The men who no home. They do not live in a house. They wander around and are a stain on our great land. I was the stain of my family, but I would never allow myself to become like them. I worked for everything I have. I am not going to allow some stain like XYZ to beat us. He cannot be a man without a home and pretend that he is successful. Did he just walk into the arena and everyone is being too polite to get rid of him. I will throw him out this building. He is a dirty man who deserve to be destroyed by the destruction because being here in FWA and standing alongside you, Phillip, is my dream and stand up men like me deserve to live our dreams. Men like him deserve to have their dreams die. Men like him deserve nothing but failure. I will take his skull and crush it with my right hand. I will hold nothing back because he offends everything I was bought up to believe. Look at those men outside looking for a hand out.


    Viktor locks the door and gestures to a couple of men looking for change on the street corner he can see from the passenger side wing mirror

    Viktor: Americans really believe they are deserving of hands outs and free things. They do not understand struggle. They have an arrogant belief that they deserve everything. XYZ will deserve one thing. He will deserve the beating I will give him. It will be a moment where my past can shape his future. He doesn’t act like he has put in hour after hour, day after day, year after year of giving everything he has to make sure he has a chance to make it. He would not last one night in Russia. He will not last one night with me. He does not deserve the honour of being a Tag Team Champion in this company. I know what it is like to sleep on the streets. I know the struggle of overcoming. I am not arrogant enough to look like I was sneaking in the back door dressed like a homeless man. I have some pride in who I am, he clearly does not. I came back from being penniless in the harshest country in the world. Any man can make it in America when they put in work. None of them want to because America isn’t fat just waist size. It is fat in the complacency it produces. XYZ is the perfect example of this but they will get to sit back and enjoy his funeral. Let’s get the hell out of here before these men come looking at us for a handout and we will make sure that we give Lord Dog and XYZ a hand out they will never forget.

    Jackson gets a sick smile on his face, enjoying the fire from Viktor. Jackson turns the engine over and the pair resume their journey. Jackson turns the radio back on but changes the station to something else as their journey continues.

  8. #8
     
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    Re: Quest for the Best Promo Thread

    King's Abyss




    The 99 mph winds caused by the speeding Lamborghini Aventador cause a paper bag to blow across the flat highway of Interstate 485. It's a dark night with not a single star in the sky. The only lights are coming from the glaring LED headlights of the zooming car. This particular Lamborghini is going so fast, that a torpedo rocket would have trouble keeping up with it.

    The lime green of this sports car seems to particularly stick out against the nice foliage of the beautiful Georgia landscape. It only makes sense that this car stand out, as it is fit for a King after all. In fact on the license plate of the car, the letters read quite clear "DaKing#1".

    And inside the car is The King himself. Dressed in a gray three piece suit is "The King" Dave Sullivan. The clock on the dashboard of the car reads 2:11 AM, but Sullivan seems wide awake for the time.


    Blasting on the radio is the song Wooly Bully by Sam The Sham & The Pharaohs.

    Sullivan is tapping his hands on the steering wheel to the beat of the music, while he chugs down a swig of his Fiji water. He is swerving his Lambo all over the empty three lane highway.

    "Matty told Hatty...about a thing she saw..." sings the car's radio. Dave Sullivan continues to sing along, nearly yelling the lyrics to the song.

    Dave Sullivan: WOOLY BULLY...WOOLY BULLY!

    Sullivan continues to nod his head as he speeds down the highway.

    "Hatty told Matty, let's don't take the chance. Let's not be L7, come and learn this dance"...

    Sullivan mumbles his way though the lyrics until it once again gets to the chorus.

    Dave Sullivan: WOOLY BULLY! Wooly Bully...Wooly Bully...WOOLY BULLY!



    Dave Sullivan: Shit, that's just great...

    Sullivan turns down the radio as he pulls over his car, the flashing lights nearly blinding his eyes. He is getting pulled over by a pair of
    Georgia State Patrol troopers. The trooper's car pulls up right behind Sullivan's lime green lambo. The King gets impatient, as they take a couple minutes before getting out of the car. The GSP trooper who was driving the car gets out first. His uniform has a blue shirt and gray blue pants. He has a trooper's hat on, and a nameplate pin that reads "Officer Daniels". Officer Daniels looks fairly young, closer to Sullivan's age. He has jet black hair, and a stubble on his face. In his hand is a heavy black flashlight, and a tablet for writing traffic citations.

    The second trooper gets out behind him with his own flashlight, which he signs on Sullivan's obnoxious license plate and lime green car. This trooper has a nameplate that reads "Officer Michaels". Officer Michael's is an older and heavier looking gentleman than the last. He is more heavy set, with gray hair, glasses, and a walrus looking mustache.

    Officer Daniels approaches the window of Sullivan's sports car. Sullivan looks over, still with his window up. Daniels taps on the window with his flashlight, prompting Sullivan to press the button to put the window down.

    Officer Daniels: How are you doing tonight sir?

    Officer Daniels has a thick southern accent, one you might expect from a Georgia southerner.

    Dave Sullivan: Pretty fucking fine until you two assholes pulled me over.

    Officer Daniels doesn't react much. He has dealt with rude people like this enough times in the past.

    Officer Daniels: Can I see your license and registration, sir?

    Sullivan, already having it ready from being pulled over before, hands them to the officer.

    Officer Daniels takes them both, and heads back to his car to run Sullivan's numbers in his computer. Meanwhile, Officer Michaels continues to shine his flashlight on King Sullivan's lambo.

    Several more minutes later, Officer Daniels comes back out of his car and returns to Sullivan's window. He hands Sullivan back his driver's Pennsylvania drivers' license, and his car registration.

    Officer Daniels: Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?

    Dave Sullivan: Cause you got nothing fuckin' better to do?

    Officer Daniels: Well yes, that's definitely part of it. It gets pretty boring during these times of the nights. So when assholes like you come along, well it really brightens up mine and Officer Michaels' shift. Isn't that right Michaels'?

    Officer Michael's gives a nod and a grunt.

    Officer Daniels: However, clocking you at 99 miles per hour in a 70 miles per hour zone is just icing on the cake. That's a pretty hefty fine you're going to get. Although, judging by this car I think you'll probably be okay big guy.

    Dave Sullivan: Yeah I'll be okay. Your fine means nothing to me. I've had steaks that are more expensive than any fine you would give me. You know, do you have any idea who I am?

    Officer Daniels: You don't know who you are? Huh, hey Michaels...this guy here doesn't even know his own name!

    Michaels chuckles.

    Officer Michaels: What, he got amnesia or something?

    Officer Daniels: He must. He's definitely having a pretty big identity crisis.

    Dave Sullivan: Screw you. Screw both of you! You are talking to a KING!

    Officer Daniels: You don't think I know who you are? I watch the shows.

    Dave Sullivan: Oh, good...then how's about we say I give you an autograph and we can go about our nights?

    Officer Daniels: An autograph? From you? You couldn't pay me to take your autograph.

    Just then, Officer Daniels pulls over his blue uniform shirt...to reveal a Starr t-shirt underneath.


    Dave Sullivan: Oh you've got to be kidding me. Starr? Fucking Starr? That is who you wear underneath your ugly ass blue shirt? Starr?

    I am BETTER than Starr.

    I've covered this. I've talked about this so many damn times. Don't tell me...fatso over there is wearing a Kevin Cromwell shirt underneath his uniform...then again maybe not, I don't think they make our shirts that big in size.

    Officer Michaels doesn't look amused.

    Officer Daniels: Why don't you go ahead and step out of the car..."King".

    Sullivan opens his car door with glee.

    Dave Sullivan: My pleasure.
    By all means, I would love to educate you two officers on a topic you clearly know nothing about. Because the simple fact of the matter is...I am the most talented wrestler on the FWA Roster. You two should both be mandated by your department to wear my t-shirt?

    Why you ask? For confidence. I have more bravado and confidence than either of you two southern Georgia losers combined. Let me guess, High School football stars? Too dumb to go to college so you joined the police force? Take out your anger and resentment about being failures on innocent people like me?

    No worries, I know the type. Kevin Cromwell is the type in fact.

    But if you're anything like Cromwell, then don't worry...you'll be able to get chance after chance after chance. Every failure you'll make, you'll be picked up and brushed off and given a kiss on your tushie by your mommy. That is what it is like living the life of Kevin Cromwell.

    Do I need to go into further detail on this? Because by all means, I can.

    I can talk for hours on end on how much of a goddamn loser Kevin Cromwell is in the FWA. At Back in Business this year, I beat that loser Cromwell in a ladder match. I took MY title out from his grubby little hands, and proved to the entire world on the grandest stage of them all that Cromwell cannot cut it in this business. He had the title and he choked it away.

    But being the little loveable loser that he is, he gets a rematch for my title. Maybe I got lucky, maybe it was a fluke that Cromwell choked his career away and lost at Back in Business. So he got his rematch. Kevin Cromwell vs The King. It was at Aftershock, although Officer Daniels on your loser salary you probably couldn't afford to watch it. So let me fill you in on what happened. Right there in that ring, I made Kevin Cromwell get on his knees and bow down to The King. I taught Kevin Cromwell a lesson. I taught Kevin Cromwell that he does not have what it takes to be an FWA star. Because Kevin Cromwell is Icarus, and he was far too close to the sun.

    Like predicted, his wings melted and he lost to me yet again. Like he always does. I knocked him down to the bottom of the roster where he belongs.

    Right? That's how this business works right? You lose in the X Championship match, and you get bumped down as punishment? Well guess what, not with Kevin Cromwell. No, instead baby face Cromwell gets a match for the North American championship instead! At FWA Revival, Kevin Cromwell...for LOSING against me in the X Championship match, gets rewarded...and gets to fight for a title that's "supposedly" higher than mine.

    Well just in case you haven't caught onto the pattern of the pathetic career of Kevin Cromwell's...he lost. He choked it away like he always does, and lost to Starr. So, I know what you're thinking right? Kevin Cromwell FINALLY gets exposed as the loser he is and gets his ass sent back to the developmental league right?

    Well apparently not!

    Apparently, Kevin Cromwell is being handed yet another chance to choke his career away. I don't know who's dick Cromwell is sucking to get all these chances. I have to give the guy credit, he won't give up. But not in the "wow he's so resilient and perseverant" kind of way. No, more in the he's a turd that just won't flush kind of way.

    Well I am going to finish what I promised to do at Aftershock, and I am going to flush that turd. Kevin, I thought you would realize your worth after I humiliated you at Aftershock. After I melted your wings and caused you to fall into the sea. What I didn't anticipate was the fact that you're working with an IQ in the 50s. Obviously there is no way I can show you reality with logic and reasoning. So I'm just going to have to physically beat you instead. Maybe I'll aim for one of those flimsy little British of ankles of yours, and snap it in half. At least then you won't be able to suck another dick and get into an FWA World Championship match after losing again here, eh?

    Officer Daniels seems quite annoyed now, but at the same time slightly amused.

    Officer Daniels: You know what...I never liked you. Not even a little bit. You started out as some drugged out punk fresh out of jail on your "road to redemption". I get it, it was supposed to be a nice little feel good story. I was supposed to root for you. I couldn't. It's my job to see through you kind of people. But let me tell you...my 8 year old son, he loved you. You were his favorite. And then...and then you changed. And it crushed him...why did you change?

    Dave Sullivan: Screw your son, and screw you. Is that supposed to make me feel sad? Oh boo hoo, and 8 year old doesn't like me anymore. Do you go about your job trying to please 8 year old boys? Wouldn't surprise me.

    Personally, I don't. I don't have to give a damn about what ANYBODY thinks of me. That's the beauty of my job.

    But let me tell you something I realized...

    You want to hear the truth?

    I did enjoy it. I did enjoy the fans to some extent. I'd be lying if I didn't. It does feel good sometimes to know you have putting rooting for you. It's simple psychology. I can't even imagine it now, but I remember it. I remember how I felt as a young guy in the business.

    But this business? It changes you man. You can go out night after night and be the just the nicest guy in the arena. But then you have to go up, and you have to look into the eyes of some of the most terrible and sick bastards you could ever met.

    You go look at an ugly beast like Mac Michaud and you tell me that isn't the closest equivalent on earth to staring into the eyes of the abyss.

    Go up against Wolf, or Chris Kennedy. When you truly see evil, it overtakes you. You can only resist and resist for so long, until you get to the point where you have to accept who you are.

    Officer Daniels: That is a load of bullshit. You think in my job I don't see the lowest scum of the earth every day? And it doesn't change me. It hasn't changed Officer Michaels over there.

    Dave Sullivan: It will. The abyss stops for no man. It will overtake you. And then...then you can truly evolve into who you really are.
    Maybe then you'll be able to turn on your TV, and see your King...and finally give me some well deserved respect. You wish you could be like me. You know it's true. You wish you could go out and not give a damn in the world. Beat the shit out of scumbag criminals, and look good doing it.

    But you never will if you don't accept the abyss for what it is.

    Starr? Kevin Cromwell? They're the same way. They refuse to stare into the abyss. They think they're better than it.

    Nobody is better than it.

    Especially Starr. Starr isn't better than anyone...well, except maybe that turd Kevin Cromwell.


    The officer seems to get on the defensive now, as Sullivan begins to get more and more emotional in his rant against his opponents. The suited King continues to wave his arms around, and get closer to the officers. Officer Michaels puts his hand on his taser gun, as Sullivan continues to vent away on the empty Atlanta interstate.


    Dave Sullivan: Do you want to know my problem with Starr? People still seem to treat him like he's better than me. Like his North American championship has more prestige than my X Championship does.

    I get where it comes from. They are living in the past. They are living in the days where scrubs like Tristan Galloway and Kevin Cromwell held my title, and RUINED everything I have done for it in three reigns prior. The truth is, I am a King. And any title I hold automatically becomes the best title you can have.


    But nobody wants to live by that logic, because they know they'll never beat me to have it.

    But the evidence is there. I have held this championship for almost a year now, and nobody has even come close to beating me for it. I have held this title more times than anyone. More times than Kevin Cromwell, more times than Chris Kennedy, and more times than Ryan "Livin in a Condo" Rondo. And here I am knocking on the door for a breaking yet another X Championship record, like the King of the X Division I am. The only thing that has been Kaizen is even remembered for anymore nowadays, is about to be gone with the rest of his forgettable accomplishments. My name is going to be the only thing you see when you look at the history of the X Championship, and rightfully so.

    And what has Starr done? He's beaten scrubs.

    I know what you're thinking. Dave, how can you call those guys scrubs? What right do you have?

    Well I am glad you asked. Let's take a gander shall we at the competition Starr last face in his X Championship match. Loser Kevin Cromwell for starters, who we just got done covering how much of a pathetic loser he is who chokes in every single title chance he gets, since I showed him the reality at Back in Business. But if you thought Cromwell was a scrub, look at who else got a shot at the North American championship match...Tommy Thunder! Scrub number 2! While Tommy Thunder was still fighting in the developmental league and wetting his bed, I had three title reigns under my belt. But yet, here he was getting a shot at the North American Championship. Just in case you missed it, I just beat this scrub into a coma at the last Fight Night. So I think we know where he stands on the Power 25. Who else was in that match? Oh none other than a guy named Aaron Kendrick, who I've beaten a total of four straight times before he was rewarded for it with a North American title shot. I think we can confidently say he is Scrub number 3, no? Then lastly of course, there's Tristan Galloway, the guy that held my title when I was taking time off, thinking I left it in good hands...what I didn't realize was that Lennie from Of Mice and Men was going to come in and win it in a fluke, and then go on to ruin all the prestige I brought to it.

    The good news? I've brought the prestige back.

    The bad news, the lack of prestige problem is even bigger than I thought it was in the FWA. Clearly, FWA Management thinks the value of the North American championship is at it's lowest point yet. Why else would they give three scrubs who I've beaten many times a shot at it while I am off facing jobber Risky Douglas at the FWA Revival show?

    It's the only explanation. They clearly think I am higher up the ladder than Starr is. You don't lose at the bottom of the ladder, and get to go up it as a reward. You only go up the ladder when you win. The FWA Revival show was clear and convincing evidence. I am higher on the ladder than Starr.

    Starr has ruined the prestige of the North American Championship.

    The good news is, your worries can be evaporated. Because it seems like FWA Management has finally realized the North American title division needs a savior. No, it needs more than a savior, it needs a king.

    It needs a King who instead of losing to busts like Tommy Thunder, and scrubs like The New Breed the last few weeks, has been going around beating FWA World Champions like Cyrus Truth...and humiliating the losers who don't belong like Tommy Thunder and Risky Douglas. I am 9-1 since returning to the FWA, and I would be 10-0 if Gabby "The Slut" Montgomery didn't get lucky, squirting her vaginal juice all over the ring mat and costing me a well deserved win.

    But I believe everything happens for a reason. It is not The King's time yet to bring prestige back to the FWA Championship...although it is much needed. I am shooting for a new nickname...The Triple Crown King. Humiliating Starr and bringing prestige back to the North American Championship is the first step of the process.

    Sullivan clearly has pushed Daniels and Michaels too far. They seem ready to slap the cuffs on him now, but they let him continue his rant just a little more to see if they can get a couple charges to really slap on him.

    Gabby got lucky. She was one of the 7 people who have ever beaten me. Do you really want to know why she was able to edge me out? She has seen into the abyss. She knows who you have to be to cut it in this business, and to win a match. Cromwell? Cromwell wouldn't know what the Abyss was if it pulled him down under while he was sucking the cock of the guy who writes the weekly Fight Night card. And Starr? Starr looks like he could be casted into the 7th Heaven family as the adopted choir boy.

    Neither one of those two know what it really means to stare into the abyss. Ask them who Nietzsche is and they'll probably think it's a type of pie.

    Maybe I'll show them. Maybe just maybe they'll get a chance to look me right in the eyes. But what they'll find out, they won't be able to handle it.

    Because you see...I am the abyss. Once they stare into me, they will know what true evil is.

    And for the first time in their pathetic lives, they will respect it. They will get on their knees, and they will bow down to it. Starr will take his North American Championship, and he will hand it two me with his two little manicured hands. Because he knows deep down the truth. He knows the sins he's committed by ruining the prestige and history of the North American Championship. And he knows I am the only one who can fix it.


    Sullivan gets right up close to the Officer Daniels, and pokes him right in the chest. Daniels looks visibly antagonized, more than he has been through Sullivan's whole rant.

    Dave Sullivan: Do you want to know why? It's because I...

    Sullivan pokes him a second time.

    Dave Sullivan: AM...

    Sullivan pokes him a third time.

    Dave Sullivan: THE KING.

    And with the forth poke, Officer Michaels takes out his taser gun, and shoots 50,000 volts of electricity right into the chest of The King at 180 feet per second. Sullivan begins to have muscular convulsions as he flops around on the road like a fish having a seizure. His three piece suit is surely getting dirty, as the electricity runs through Sullivan's body for about 15 more seconds.

    Officer Daniels and Officer Michaels chuckle at the sight, as Sullivan groans in pain.

    Soon after, Sullivan begins to slowly sit up and raises his fist in the air...

    Dave Sullivan: Bow...Down.

    Sullivan says, as he passes out on the road.

    Officer Daniels: Well he's got fight...I'll give him that.


    “He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby becomes a monster. And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee.” - (Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil. Aphorism 146)


  9. #9
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    Re: Quest for the Best Promo Thread

    Atlanta, GA.






    Standing just outside the underground mall, Eyesnsane is staring away from the complex in the direction of the Coke a Cola building. Ted is walking toward him carrying a camera with it focused on Eyesnsane.




    Ted: Hey bro, you good?


    Eyesnsane: Yeah, I’m cool just thinking.


    Ted: About what? I mean I know you are going to get back in the ring again and its been hella while since the masked man was in a ring.


    Eyesnsane: I’m not tripping. You know when I first signed up to wrestle. I had this idea in my head. I thought everything would work out and that you, me, Kills, and Alana would form the greatest stable in the history of wrestling. I saw us winning titles and awards and recognition world wide.


    Ted: Word. I get that, but I mean things did kinda work out like that right, I mean all things considered?


    Eyesnsane: Don’t get me wrong man. It all worked out well, we all did quite a bit in this business. But you know, you were in the Air Force so me Alana and Kills did our thing. You and me did our thing and had a run. I just would have liked for all of us to hit the scene and just be that force in a company.


    Ted: Well we here now, nah mean? I think we still got plenty to give and plenty to do. What’s up with Alana anyway?


    Eyesnsane: Not really sure. She’s been in China for the last year or so.


    Ted: Cool, I get that. She’s always liked it over there. Anyway, we got this. No Pride, no spin, we Over the Edge, fuck what anybody say and we are back and we are bringing the fight.


    Eyesnsane: Oh that’s for sure. I’m not here to live off of what we have already done. This is like a brand new day one. A clean slate and a fresh start. I look at this roster now and they either don’t know me or they just stopped thinking about me. I get it. See I’m sure Mike is at least telling his breeding buddies about me, hell about us. I’m sure he won’t let them just walk into a wood chipper. I can’t say much out them, I mean Mike and I have said all there is to say about each other through all of our back and forth battles.


    That said, you know what this match is and you know what it’s about. You gotta have our backs out there. When it comes to Mike, image is everything. He’s not going to want to be apart of a loss, he’s not going to want to look bad. So, I’m sure he’ll take an opportunity to give the breed an advantage. You need to keep an eye out for that and cut it off. You know they may have well just made this three versus three. Especially after last week, because having Kills show up put a damper on their plans for last week.


    Ted: First of all it goes without saying. You know I got yall’s back. You know I get the business folks have to work together, like the breed. We are different, we are friends, we have been up and down these roads together, and through even more personally. Sure Over the Edge was born in the FWA, but come on we have all wrestled the world together and in different companies. It’s always been deeper than just getting a check for us.


    Eyeasnsane: That’s it and that’s what gives us the edge, over and over again. We know each other, we trust each other we came into this business together we have struggled with each other and we have overcome together. I know this is a new FWA, and the breed represents that newness. That does not matter, we can still get in that ring and go toe to toe with the best of the best and we are back to prove just that. Old era, new era, wrestling is wrestling a fight is a fight and when that bell rings the only thing that matters is bringing all you got, to move closer to your goal. We will be champions again and this fight against the breed is step one down that road.




    Eyesnsane turns to face Ted as Ted lowers the camera and hits the pause button on the camera.




    Eyesnsane: Sup man, I thought that was flowing well.


    Ted: You have not really said what we are going to be doing. What do they have planned for us?


    Eyesnsane: You know I could say that I’m not to sure, but I’ve been watching from home and keeping up with things a bit. You know the world champ scene is pretty much right where I left it, same names, same games. That said, I don’t see many teams right now. Not saying it will be cake or anything like that but there is three of us so that scene just makes the most sense to me. As far as the other straps, well who knows but we all should just stay ready, one thing I can say for sure from experience. All that we have done means little, we are all back to square one.


    Ted: Got it. You know I was just curious man you know we have to give the fans what they want.


    Eyesnsane: You know I just figure the fans want to see some good old fashion fighting. Plain and simple and I know we can provide just that.


    Ted: Hey, do you know if Kills is in town?


    Eyesnsane: Nope, what I do know is that he will be there when the time comes, he takes this very seriously.


    Ted: I’ll catch up with him later, how about we get something to eat?


    Eyesnsane: Sounds good to me.






    The scene fades in from black to a room illuminated by the light of the sun. Ted holds the camera focused on his friend and stable mate, Killemall. The masked man is standing in front of a wooden mokujin practicing his various forms, moving fluidly as he proceeds…




    Killemall: Yes, yes. It is the scheduled time for this. It has been some time since I’ve had to share my thoughts with a camera. Some time since I’ve decided to step foot in the FWA again. You’ll have to trust that I have not been sitting around collecting dust somewhere. Just know I have remained as active as I was before I left the FWA. Ah but we are not having this moment to speak of endings, nore should any of you care what I’ve spent my time doing since I’ve been gone. There is one fact we are going to address here and now.




    There is a loud and sudden bang as his palm strikes the face of the wooden practice dummy. Killemall turns toward the camera and begins walking closer as the shot tightens zooming in on his masked face.




    Killemall: In war many battles are fought as the campaign progresses. This is a truth that may be lost on some but not myself. The goal is to attain the FWA tag team titles once again. That is the objective of the current war we are waging. I look around the FWA and things seem very much as they were when I left. Those who are the champions take their position for granted while others spend their time talking about how deserving they are as opposed to simply leaving the company no alternative but to bend to their will.




    Killemall folds his arms in front of himself.




    Killemall: I am not going to overlook those I will face. One refers to himself as a person who is guided and supported by an older more experienced and I suppose influential person. Mind you he openly refers to himself as this kind of person. I suppose there’s something in accepting who and what you are, shortcomings and all. The other refers to himself as a first, typical or preliminary model of something.




    Killemall lets out what can be described as both a sigh and half hearted laugh.




    Killemall: Now these two men are focused on doing all they can to impress Mike Parr, a man I know well enough. A man who continues to tolerate these two, for now. My position is not to figure out the point and purpose of the new breed. My objective is far more clear. The new breed represent the first battle that must be waged in order to complete our goal. There are tag teams to the left and to the right os us, but at this time my focus lies dead ahead to the team right in front of us.


    We will show we are the best team in the FWA and we will doing by tearing down each team that comes before us, until there are no left to stand in the way. We will leave this company no choice but to elevate us to title contention. We aim to leave no doubt, no argument about how good we are. We will not have to say it. Love us or hate us, our results will speak louder than any words we could possibly utter.


    We are a team, we know one another. We were not put together on a hunch or a whim. We are not a team of convenience or unrealized potential. We know what we are doing and in this case, we are set to have more of a fight than a match and that to plays to our strengths. Do you two even know what your strengths and weaknesses are? I have significant doubt that you all know either. Have all the confidence you like, just know it takes more than just confidence. It takes more than words of hopefulness and it takes more than just wanting to impress the man who allows you to carry his bags and book his travel. I know you two, better yet I know your kind, you lack both depth and staying power. Take this for what it is going to be, a learning experience. You two are going to learn what it takes to win, you are going to learn what team work really is, you are going to learn who we are and you are going to learn what it's like to give your all and watch us have our hands raised in victory.




    Killemall turns around and heads back to the mokujin and resumes his practice without another word being spoken as the scene fades to black.





  10. #10

    Jiggy's Avatar

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    FWA Re: Quest for the Best Promo Thread




    Just mere days ahead of his match at FWA Quest For The Best, Lord Dog lays in hotel room, looking up at the ceiling. It's 3am and he's currently in a losing battle with insomnia. With as much as he has on his mind, it's no wonder that he can't sleep, but he knows he has to. Random thoughts batter away at his wayward mind as he envisions winning the FWA Tag Team titles alongside XYZ. "Am I good enough?" he thinks. "Do I have what it takes?" he silently asks himself as he sits up at the edge of his bed.

    He buries his hands in his palms and takes a deep breath. As he exhales, he feels just a little bit of those worries flee from his consciousness. Another deep breath and his mind becomes a bit more at ease. He's spent his whole life perfecting this breathing exercise, and in this moment it brings him a moment of clarity. In this quiet moment, Lord Dog comes to a realization: He's always been good enough, he's always had what it takes, and he's done letting men like Phillip A. Jackson and Viktor Maximus tell him otherwise.


    "When I was small child, the world outside my bedroom window was foreign to me. My heroes weren't the men in my family, my heroes were lifted from the pages of comic books. Superman, Spider-Man, The Flash, dudes who were above all else the epitome of virtue and righteousness. They fought for truth and justice, they looked out for the little guy, they never backed down from their adversaries. It was there when I learned to be a man. You know what my earliest memory of my father is? It's me, at five years old, watching him put my mother through a wall because she asked him how the job search was going. He left the house before the cops came and I've never seen him since. So, at a very young age I learned that there are two types of men. There is Clark Kent, and then there is Reggie Lorde. I didn't want to be Reggie, someone who turns his back on those who needed him the most. I wanted to be Clark Kent, I wanted to be someone that people could count on to make the ultimate sacrifice. As I got older, I slowly started to turn into the man that I am today, and I'll be completely honest, bro.... I am pretty pleased with the man I see when I look in the mirror. There are a lot of people who, along the way, have done everything in their power to make it so that I don't like what I see on the other side of that glass. They've called me a freak, they've called me a retard, and even after I had beaten them in the ring, they called me a jobber. Well brother, you can call me whatever you want, but don't call me out. Because if there is anything I've learned from my heroes, it's that you never EVER stand down, when the oppressors push you then you just push back even harder, until they are on their ass looking up at you. That's when the power shifts, and they feel as little as they've tried to make you feel."

    Lord Dog stands up and heads towards the window overlooking the Hotel swimming pool, which at this hour is completely vacant.

    "It took The Sin City Vultures tapping at my door to make me realize that men like my father still exist today, right here in the FWA. They are unwanted weeds in a garden of prosperity, and there is nothing we can do to stop them from popping up, all we can do is pluck 'em. So that's what I promised to do when I linked up with XYZ. Two like-minded spirits who were tired of being pushed around, tired of waiting for our time to shine in the ring while lesser men bullied their way to the top. We started off as rivals but we saw something in each other, and it wasn't just a mutual desire for truth and justice, it was recognizing in each other what so many others deliberately pretended not to see: we saw raw talent, we saw the skills and ability needed to not just TALK about it, but to actually BE about it. XYZ and I have grown close these last few months, and I see him as a brother. Just another side of the same coin. I admire XYZ for all the same reasons I am proud of myself. I admire XYZ because he is a man of honor and integrity but also a man who will do whatever it takes, within the confines of what is right, to get the job done. That's why, The Phillip A. Jackson Project is about to reach it's conclusion."

    Lord Dog pauses for a bit, choosing his next words carefully.

    "We will defeat Phillip A. Jackson and Viktor Maximus because we don't have a choice. If we lose to these villainous miscreants, than what was it all for? If we don't stand tall in the face of adversity, what do we even stand for? My partner, XYZ, might tell you that the only thing that matters is that we stood up at all, which usually I'd agree with but not now. Now we are in the endgame, and everything that Lord Dog and XYZ have done as The Warriors Of Virtue have led us to this point. The Tag Team championships are on the line. Once upon a time, I held those titles with Ghost and our reign was historic. This is something different altogether, and while my previous tag title run meant something to me and Ghost, this run with XYZ means something to all those desperate voices that have for too long gone unheard. The FWA fans have my word that those days are long gone, and The Warriors Of Virtue are truly the voices of the voiceless.

    He walks over to the mirror and looks himself up and down before continuing.

    "Unless you've ever been told what you can't do or who you can't be, you'll never understand how badly that fire burns inside you, to the point where you are blowing smoke rings. 'Dance, Lord Dog, Dance. That's a good boy. That's a nice little comedy act.' That was the perception of me, and I don't blame the fans, I'm just as much to blame. They say "dance" and I ask which Fortnite jig is their favorite. All I ever wanted was admiration and adulation and I figured I needed to make you all laugh. It's been fun, but the fun and games are over. You people deserve more than just a comedy act, you deserve CHAMPIONS who will fight for your honor. Is that me? I want it to be, I really want it to be."


    Lord Dog smiles at himself in the mirror, taking a moment to appreciate how far he's come.

    "I want, more than anything, to be a beacon of hope, a champion of light. Not for the glory or the fame, not so that I can add another tag title reign to my profile, but so that men like Phillip A. Jackson and Viktor Maximus can see that their days of running roughshod over the FWA are dead and gone. The Warriors Of Virtue are the shovel, and bury them all. We'll put every single one of 'em in the dirt because that's where they belong, with the rest of the worms and the nocturnal insects."

    Lord Dog looks over to the night table near his bed, at the stack of Spider-Man comics he had read earlier in the day. He walks over to the stack and picks one up, flipping through the pages.

    "You know, my favorite super hero was always Spider-Man. He was a nerdy kid like me, bullied by his peers and looked down on, but they didn't know his full potential, who he really was and what he could really do. My favorite line, from Uncle Ben himself, with great power, comes great responsibility. When XYZ and I capture the tag team titles, we will live by that mantra, we will bring righteousness and honor to the FWA tag team championships and as long as we have them around our waists, you can bet your asses that the tag team titles will represent strength, unity, glory, and friendship. None of these things are qualities that Viktor Maximus and Phillip A. Jackson possess. Yeah, they are strong in the physical sense but mentally they are weak. STRUCTURALLY, they are weak. One loss is all it takes to bring their entire empire down. Unity? Friendship? They work well as a team but trust me when I say that they aren't friends. They hardly like each other. They NEED each other. Phillip A. Jackson is breaking down, his best years behind him. He needed the young buck Viktor to carry him to the finish line. Viktor, a man of remarkable strength and size but unremarkable talent, he needed Phillip A. Jackson's name value to get his foot in the door. It's only a matter of time before this "team" implodes, with Viktor going his own way and Phillip A. Jackson realizing he can no longer hack it on his own. They are delusional enough to think that day will never come, let alone as fast as it's actually approaching. I pity them. At lease, I want to pity them, but ultimately I can't shake the glaring fact that they brought this on themselves."

    Lord Dog sets the comic book down and sits back down on his bed, his eyes getting heavier.

    "At Quest For The Best, in my hometown of Atlanta, Georgia, XYZ and I make good on a million promises. We take what is rightfully ours in the FWA Tag Team championships and we give that back to the FWA fans, we give them credible tag team champions they can count on, heroes that will always defend those belts with pride and honor all in THEIR name. In every promo I've ever cut, I never talk about how good I am, I never brag about what I'm capable of so for some of you this may seem out of character, but for me, saying this feels therapeutic: When I am ON, I am unstoppable. I am the most underrated wrestler in the FWA. I am capable of so much more than I've shown you all, but that will soon be rectified. XYZ and Lord Dog, The Warriors Of Virtue, WILL defeat The Phillip A. Jackson project at Quest For The Best and we will be your NEW FWA champions. Some will call it the underdog story of the year. I call the start of a brand new chapter in the FWA. We've earned this, we deserve it, and we're coming to collect.

    With that, Lord Dog closes his eyes and drifts to sleep, the peace afforded by his self discovery already proving invaluable.





  11. #11
    Striving for a B+ in life
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    Re: Quest for the Best Promo Thread

    Cy, Ya' Were My Favorite


    Shannon O'Neal walks through the FWA hallway on her way to her final match. She's a 33-year-old, beat-up professional wrestler with accolades to spare. When she first joined the FWA, some six years ago, she was nothing more than a "fighter." That's how she labeled herself. She was a "fighter," someone who would box in her free time for extra cash in between her music gigs and bartender shifts.

    When she joined the FWA, she didn't know how to wrestle. Robbins Thurgood didn't teach her anything, but he did teach her the business side of the industry. She learned and watched. And she got alright at the whole wrestling thing. Then something changed, clicked inside of her, around 2016.

    She got really ... really ... loud.

    Really outspoken. Really brash. Really truthful. Really ... raw.

    So at the end of 2016, after she had won the FWA Women's Championship twice in 2014 and 2015 alone and defeated Gabrielle Montgomery, she set her sights higher. She won Carnal Contendership and went on to Back in Business 12. She met Cyrus Truth, the unstoppable wrestling force that completely dominated the FWA for the better part of an entire year.

    Everyone knows how it went down. Not once, but twice.

    And now, on this day in 2019, Shannon O'Neal is set to wrestle her final match. And it's against her favorite: Cyrus Truth.

    So understand if, as she's walking through the hallway and toward the arena, she gets a little emotional and teary-eyed. This is how she wanted it to end.



    "Cyrus Truth, I know you ain't gonna see any of this until the night is done. I get all of that. I know it. But lemme ... lemme say somethin' real quick to ya'. So ya' know what's what. I'ma be real with ya' now."


    Shannon turns a corner and reaches the room right behind the curtain. The workers are set to cue her music, and Shannon motions for a pause. She'll be the first one out. Cyrus will come next. Shannon takes a deep breath and then looks to the camera following her for this momentous occasion.


    "Ya' were my favorite. There's just ... just no one else. I always thought it'd be Gabby, fo' real. I honestly did. I mean ... beatin' her in 2014 ... meant so so so much to me. But ... I just ... ya' change, ya' know? Ya' move on and ya' have new memories. That feels ... that feels like a different person. When I was doin' that ... I was makin' headway for other people ... other gals ... to rise outside of the Women's Championship division. I was makin' it known that gals other than Gabby could be ... World Champions. I was pavin' the way for the Bells. But then the Bells came. And the world changed. I changed it. But I had to change ... WITH it. I had to ... DO it. I had to rise up with the rest.

    And that's where ya' came in, Cyrus. Honestly ... I railed on ya' ... hard. I mean ... I remember the stuff I said. I really really really went after ya', didn't I? Hey ... I had to do it. Ya' were comfortable. No lie. You better not deny that now. We're two years removed now. Ya' know ya' was coastin' with the belt. No one was on ya' level. The FWA was lookin' foolish. Everyone was lookin' foolish. Hell, even Bell was lookin' foolish and I was doin' so just by shoutin' about how people could beat ya'. So I had to go do it."



    Shannon stops talking and thinks back to the night she beat Cyrus Truth for the World Championship. She remembers it vividly.

    July 1, 2017. San Diego, California. Shannon delivers a hard right-hand punch. Cyrus crumbles to his knees. He's bleeding from the mouth. He tries to get up, but he can't. And Shannon uses her last ounce of energy to hit the bicycle kick.



    "One ... Two ... Three!" Shannon says to herself in a hushed volume. She even pumps her fist in the air at the end.

    "That was a moment for me, Cyrus. Hell ... that was a moment for the entire FWA. And ... well ... even though it wasn't a moment you enjoyed ... I gotta' tell ya' that I thank ya' for bein' part of it. Ya' WERE part of it. Even if ya' were my opponent. ... Even if I was just throwin' punches at ya' nonstop. ... Ya' were a big part of my biggest moment in the FWA. Ya' were a big part of who I became here, the legacy I built here. I often connected my career to Gabby, and I became the first female World Champion since Gabby. I mean ... that's a legacy. That's ... that's somethin' special. And ... well ... I don't think of Gabby when I think of it. Nah ...

    I think of you, Cyrus. You're my favorite. And I'm gonna go out there ... one more time ... and bust ya' f*ckin' mouth open ... and win that FWA World Championship from ya' ... just for old time's sake."



    Shannon turns to the sound workers and nods her head. "Feels Like the First Time" begins playing and the crowd roars in approval. Shannon smiles as she pushes her hand through the curtain and walks toward the ring for the final time. Behind her, the door opens, obviously by the opponent she spent so much time talking about, but the feed cuts out before we can be certain who it is.








    Bell, Ya' Were My Favorite


    Shannon is once again walking down a hallway of an FWA arena. She looks the exact same. As she walks by each random, nameless FWA employee, she gets laughs and smiles from everyone. She even gets some high-fives. The little girl from nowhereville Indiana made a name of herself.


    "Well ... wouldn't ya' know it? The clock is at the eleventh hour and the only thing left to do is finish this the way it should finish.

    And that means facing one person in particular."



    Shannon reaches the dark room right before the arena. There, she takes a seat and notices the curtains slowly moving. A figure has just walked through, with long wavy blonde hair the only noticeable characteristic. But the theme song is unmistakable, and the crowd's negative reaction likewise connected to only one person.


    "Bell, I'll always remember the first time I watched ya' wrestle. It was 2014. Ya' were just this little bunny of energy, boopin' and boppin' and jumpin' around and everyone loved it. Ya' brought this ... excitement to the FWA's women division. Ya' brought a sense of ... I can't explain exactly what it was ... but it was like ... joy or happiness or somethin' weird like that. And when ya' beat me for the Women's Championship later in 2015 ... I mean ... it was somethin'. It was a moment, for sure. I also knew ... right then ... that we had a lot more of our story to tell."


    Shannon listens as Bell's theme music plays through the arena. She's heard it hundreds of times now. She's been this close to the ring -- or inside the ring -- while hearing it more times than she can count right here and now. Oh, the memories.


    "Ya' were the one who liften me up durin' all the Jack of Diamonds stuff. Ya' were the one who was willin' to form the tag team, Bullets N' Bubblegum. Ya' were the one who was standin' by my side when I faced Cyrus Truth at Back in Business 12. Ya' were the one who I supported when ya' won the Mile High title from me a few months later.

    And then ... yeah ... chair to the back."



    Shannon remembers the chair shot she got from Bell so vividly that she rubs the back of her head with her hand, as if it happened just minutes ago.


    "I mean ... we've been down the road and back again ... and down the road and back again. We were respectful opponents. Then we became best friends and tag team partners. Then we were allies and finally heated rivals, out to do one another in. I cost you the World Championship, and you cost me years on my wrestlin' career."


    Shannon doesn't have the smiles or the gushy feelings like she did when she lived this scene out thinking of Cyrus Truth.


    "Now it's time to end it and move on. I'm a worn-down 33-year-old wrestler who doesn't have the fire I used to have. Bell, ya' took years off my life. And that's OK. That's what this business is 'bout for most people. But ... man ... we were ... BEST FRIENDS. Now ... now ... ya' runnin' around tryin' to plant seeds of mistrust. I mean ... come on, Bell. What's this 'bout? Let's just go out there and settle this."


    Shannon notices that the theme music has stopped. The music guys at the soundboard turn to Shannon and wait for her signal.


    "I dunno if this will settle this or not, Bell. I thought our last one-on-one match would put it all to bed. But then ya' were just ... always there. So ... I'ma come out and say this. Tonight ... ya' and me ... we're doin' this thing one more time. Ya' ... and me. 'Cause ya' and me have been tied together for a long time, for years. Since 2014 ... we were leadin' toward this moment. The FWA World Championship has long been at the center of it all, right? First it was ya' chasin' it. Then I won it, makin' ya' jealous. Then ya' won it from me. Then I got jealous. Then ya' got jealous. And then I cost ya' the belt. I mean ... I have less history with my own parents.

    Ya' were my favorite opponent, Bell. For all the reasons I mentioned, positive and negative. It just makes sense that it has to happen this way. Ya' and me are gonna tear the house down, I guess. Hopefully ... hopefully ...

    this will be closure."



    "Feels Like the First Time" begins playing and Shannon takes a deep breath before walking through the curtains, for the final time. We get a small glimpse of the arena, where the same blurry blonde figure is waiting in the room. And the last thing we see is Shannon's wavy blonde hair and tattoos on her shoulder. Her staple.
    Last edited by The Golden One; 04-17-2019 at 11:44 PM. Reason: I had to fix a coding thing.


    "The Golden One" Devin Golden

    3x FWA World Heavyweight Champion
    2x FWA X Champion
    4x FWA Tag Team Champion
    Final record: 94-58-10


    Shannon O'Neal
    2x FWA Women's Champion
    1x FWA World Champion


  12. #12
    Chikara Trainee

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    Re: Quest for the Best Promo Thread

    “I grew up and all that I ever heard people talking about was history. How great it was in ‘the day’ and how good it was to do things the old-fashioned way. Then….instead of watching and learning from how those have evolved, I had to sit while my elders thumbed their way through their records in in the search for that one vinyl that was a classic. And when they found that vinyl that was a classic, they had to gingerly take it out and it delicately on that stupid rotating disk all the while I was sitting there having to listen to it scratch and squeak away what I was promised was a classic.”


    “It wasn’t just music. It was EVERYTHING. They don’t make players like George Best anymore he used to say. That was my dad, and George Best is probably the greatest football player that his local area has ever produced. Sorry….soccer for my North American friends. Herein lies the problem…..no….not the fact that I had to translate the planets greatest game to terminology that you will understand….but the problem that we always look back to the past, teary eyed and wistfully wishing that those we watch in black and white and that we hear on vinyl records could be brought to the modern day. Could we see George Best in color television? Could we have the musical greats on iTunes with such a crisp musical sound. Wouldn’t it be great if, just for even one day, we could get all those greats back…….”

    “F#!k the past. It was never as good as you told me. Your classic singers sound like they are gargling underwater in comparison to the tracks on my iTunes. Your soccer players play too slow and didn’t keep themselves in good enough shape to be able to cope with the demands on the modern world. Every. Single. Time that I am forced to try and embrace how good the past is, I end up just shaking my head and thinking about how relieved that I didn’t have to sit and suffer through thinking back then that I was the best only to be hit with a slap of reality in the modern world and see that I was just better than the good at my time. I was younger and I couldn’t fight back…but now….now my purpose? My purpose is to fight back and my purpose is to make sure that the days of the past stay there.”


    Sean Hughes, the protégé, has been staring intently down the lens of the camera for that entire speech. He wanted the world to see the whites of his eyes as he told them a bit more about himself and know that he meant it. He smirks, a smile that would break a thousand hearts, before casting a sideways glance as the shot pans out to reveal he is flanked by the man known as The Prototype.


    “I was the biggest with the scary speed but I was the toughest with a hidden soft side. I was the smartest except in certain situations. I was technical but I wasn’t the best brawler for my size. I had my limitations. And God, did I train. Did I train over and over again, was I put through my drills and didn’t my coaches have me wrestling all across the country and all across the planet specifically try to improve my weaknesses. The Prototype is the first stage of a process that, if completed correctly, ends with a diamond in your hand instead of a piece of coal. So why I am here? Because even this piece of coal that is having pressure applied to it is better than any of these alleged diamond’s that the FWA claims to offer. I am here because even on my worst day, I think I can deal with those on their best day. But you don’t see that, do you? YOU DON THINK WE HAVE WHAT IT TAKES, DO YOU?”


    Prototype’s voice roars around the deserted room in which they are speaking to us. Judging by the extensive echo, they are in pretty much in a secluded area in the middle of pretty much nowhere. In fact, as soon as this thought enters our minds, Prototype grabs the camera that is resting on a stand and using his foot, because his hands are balancing the camera on his shoulder now, kicks through the door. The light takes a moment to adjust from the dimly lit interior to the almost pitch black exterior dotted with faint amber lights of a small hamlet in the distance. Indeed, shadows becoming more visible as the lens adjusts suggests that they are both high up and deep within a forest or a mountain terrain. He then, albeit not seamlessly, twists the camera and sets it down so the focus is back on his face.

    “Because you are so misguided, we knew it was important to speak to you. But no, standing in a city or standing in a ring or standing somewhere that you call familiar means that you would be focusing on other things. What you need to focus on are the words that are coming out of our mouths and the promises that we are making you. What we needed was the time and the space to prepare, to gather our thoughts without having to listen or smell any of the piss ants of Atlanta or even Georgia. You know how some people will travel early in the week of a big event and take in the sights of the city, immerse themselves in the local culture and like to interact with the travelling contingent. Me? Us? The best view of Atlanta is when it is in the rear view mirror or out of the airplane window on your way out. So we won’t be interrupted and we will speak and you will listen to us until such a point where we feel like you can truly grasp how good we are.”


    “As for Mike? He agrees. Too much is being made of Mike being the ones that brought us into this company. In fact, if you remember back, we came here because he was losing himself. He now knows exactly who he is and what he will be in the future and he agrees that it’s time for us to show and tell the FWA fanbase exactly who we are. In short, we are the best tag team in this federation when given the chance to show what we can do. We are the threat that management don’t want to acknowledge and the locker room is ignorant of. Mike said he would see us in the ring at the Quest for the Best PPV and he would stand and watch while we justify the soundbites that we are dropping tonight. So here it goes……at the Quest for the Best PPV you may have a winner but you consider your quest futile because the actual the best is staring you straight in the face.”



    With that, Prototype moves out of shot as Sean comes into focus once more.


    “I don’t hate all parts of history. I wanted to sit here tonight and tell you why I’m the Protégé, why I’m worthy of my place in the group that represents the new breed of professional wrestler today and why in years to come you will all look back and you will want to lay claim to being the one that saw ‘the next one’. When I’m holding as much gold as I can carry you may all try to cheer and welcome the GOAT but if I ever hear you cheering me let me be on record……..you can shove those cheers straight up your ass. I don’t want you to arrive late to the party, I’ve been in the FWA for 6 months but I’ve been an advocate for myself and my own talents since I was a teenager. But yes….my point earlier was that I don’t hate history but I just don’t respect of subscribe to the thoughts that things were always better back then. I mean I could talk about cell phones or the lack thereof. I could talk about the internet. I could talk about the forms of social media that you will be logging into right now to desperately try to lambast me and get my attention. What I hate is not learning from history.”


    Protégé takes the moment to catch a glance at his phone, taking a look at the aforementioned social media, before muttering #assholes to himself but enough to be picked up by the surrounding microphones.


    “The reason why those looked upon as great in the past wouldn’t be the greatest today is because they didn’t learn from themselves. We did. We have the opportunity and learning is what I do every single day of my life. I’ve got the Prototype and The Prodigy to leech off of and extract knowledge from until such a point where the Protégé becomes the Master. But there is also something in those in the past being a step too slow or a tad too underdeveloped for today. Over the Edge. A relic. And dusty old relic that was packed away in the attic. Only in the attic because we didn’t have the heart to completely throw away the years of average and mediocre memories. Not kept there because one day that we would go up there and dust it off and tell the grandkids stories about how talented things were or how good times were but kept there because maybe one day, years from now, you will luck out and that crap will actually be worth something to someone desperate for any piece of the early 2000s. Guys….you are just a step too slow to hang with the New Breed of professional wrestler. We are faster, we are smarter. Hell, I could probably out karate your ass if I spent a couple days looking into it. But I don’t waste my time learning skills from people who are beneath me….I learn lessons. I learn that you experienced success in the past but I have also learned, and it was a quick lesson, how to stop just that. Mike tells me that your limited mentality will make it all about him because that’s the only thing you can cling sort of relate to and have had experience of…….and that in itself is problem number two. Inability to adapt. You were barely relevant and appropriate for your time and just got lucky that there wasn’t two guys like me and Prototype around to slap the head off your shoulders but you sure as hell aren’t fit enough to lace our boots In this climate. But then we get to problem number three….”


    Protégé ruefully shakes his head.


    “I love tag team wrestling. It isn’t for everyone but I can stand on the apron and I can soak in not only the mentality but the technical proficiency of anyone that I am close to. And where is closer than the apron? Eyes….James….you pissed on tag team wrestling by holding both belts. Mike said it was a sad and unsuccessful attempt to make yourself relevant before you quit AGAIN, he also said LOL after, but problem number three is that you’ve immediately made an enemy out of me. And whilst I’m still learning and I’m getting better day by day, you can bet whatever you value in your life on the fact that if Prototype doesn’t crush your head that I’m going to walk up to you, stare you in the eye as close as this camera is to my face right now, spit in your face and slap the nonsensical idea that you are in any way someone to be revered in tag team wrestling straight out of your head. Then……..we are going to pin you and only then after all that……..”


    The camera pans out for the last time so both are in shot once more.

    “Then you’ll know what we are about. Then you’ll know that the old school professional wrestler tag team is done and it’s time to usher in the New Breed.”



    Scene fade
    Last edited by TheProdigy; 04-17-2019 at 11:50 PM. Reason: formatting: spacing issues

  13. #13
    Banned Helping A Friend

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    Re: Quest for the Best Promo Thread

    Chapter III:
    A Wrongdoing

    Dominick quickly rises, enraged, and loses his cool. His clothesline try misses the mark and Gabrielle lands a swift kick to the groin, possibly a little lower than what's legal, and then hits her 34 Double D-DT finisher!!! Gabrielle covers with the front leg hooked.

    .................1...................2...................3....KICK OUT A SPLIT SECOND TOO LATE!


    Winner: Gabrielle Montgomery
    Gabrielle quickly leaves the ring area while Dominick argues with the referee over the count. The crowd cheers for the result, and Dominick is heard saying, "I GOT SCREWED!" He refuses to admit Gabrielle beat him fairly, citing a "quick count" and the low kick she performed right before the finisher. Dominick then paces the ring with his eyes and face pointed upward and says, "The only way anyone can beat me here is by cheating. I was WRONGED!"

    Gabrielle, though, celebrates on the stage rampway with a smile and her arms raised high. She then bends down, hands on knees, to catch her breath after a tiresome matchup against a worthy opponent
    During Commercial Break

    An argument breaks out between the ref and Dominick, who still hasn't left the ring. He grabs the shirt of the referee and shouts at him, loudly spouting profanities that are best left un-repeated. He can be heard vociferously and directly, without any regard for what the cameras may pick up, repeating the same phrase over and over again.

    Dominick:
    You ROBBED me!

    He pushes the ref away from him hard and vacates the ring, incredibly upset and heads to the back. Behind the curtain he looks no-one in the eye and brushes past the bustle of the crowded Gorilla Position as well as the agents. Clearly, he has nothing on his mind but the highway robbery committed inside that ring. A true shame for him to be held down by the FWA so they could "protect" their golden goose, Gabrielle. Minutes pass as he gathers his things from the locker room and heads to the parking garage. An agent follows after him, attempting to get Dominick to stay.

    Agent: Dominick, you can't leave yet, it's against the rules, you know.

    Dominick: Does it look like I give a rat's ass? Skip off to Rondo, buttercup and you let him know I'm leaving because you guys SCREWED me!

    Agent: Dominick, nobody screwed you, I promise.

    Dominick: You know nothing! Absolutely nothing!

    Armistead throws his bags into the backseat and slams the door hard, before getting into the driver's seat and hauling ass out of the parking lot, leaving the agent to have to let the others know what happened. After an hour of driving, Dominick cools off and sighs loudly in the luxury of his car.

    Dominick: This is why the FWA's in the sorry f***ing state it's in. I had the win. I had it, but they just couldn't have the bitch lose, could they. I'm not surprised. I mean, of course they would. They haven't had a new top star in over 7 god damn years. Oh sure, Shannon and Bell have been champions... for a cup of coffee and then back to the usual suspects. They have part-timers and has-beens on top... and where do the guys who bust their ass every night to bring in the fans go? Straight to the bottom. Disgraceful...

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