Post by The Edgecrusher on Aug 16, 2009 2:33:54 GMT -5
The camera pans across the rabid crowd of wrestling fans, various cardboard signs strewn throughout read cliched catch phrases like "AUSTIN 3:16," and "SMELL WHAT I'M COOKING!" Suddenly the shot cuts to the main stage as several over the top fireworks go off. We here the voice of WWF... errrr... WWE announcer Jim "try my BBQ sauce" Ross.
"Welcome to Monday night RAW! I'm J.R. and alongside of me is the "King." A pause from good ole' JR as the camera pans the crowd, Jerrys voice breaks the silence.
"That's right JR we're here at the WW..... Raven... dumb ass... doesn't realize he's a 'tard.... this is FCW.... not the WWE..." The King begins to break up as darkness overtakes everything.
"Flap those fat-ass arms girls! Move it, let's go... let's go!" Marc's father rings out from the nothingness. The darkness still engulfs but the silence is replaced by nails on a chalkboard voice. "YOU CAN DO IT! GET GOING..." Suddenly the positive tone of Richard vanishes leaving behind little trace of sunshine. "MARC! you worthless shit! Get in this room right now!!!"
"Why father, why?" echoed in his head and reverberated through his body like a shock wave through the soul. "Why would you do this to me?" Marc repeated this to himself under his breath over and over again.
Marc snaps up from his laying position, he looks around the room groggily rubbing his eyes. His head pounding with every heartbeat he slowly pushes himself back to his feet from the cold concrete. He quickly realizes he is in the boiler room of the building, but something isn't right. Marc looks to his left, passed out nude midgets. He slowly turns his neck, pain shoots up from the left side of his body. It starts at the heel of his foot and travels up like lighting to his head.
Marc let's loose an almost childlike whimper then continues looking to his right. More drunk passed out midgets as well as a full grown tiger. The midgets nestled softly under the watchful eye of the tiger seems almost inviting to Marc. He quickly shakes the cob-webs from his head. He almost falls over realizing he still drunk from earlier in the night.
"What the hell happened?" He askers himself out loud. He is answered by a midget laying on a tiny couch in the corner.
"You got really drunk dip-shit!" The midget chucks a crumpled sheet of paper as he turns facing away and drifts off to slumber land. Marc manages to catch the paper and celebrates like a it was a super bowl touchdown. After an interview with Madden himself on his victory Marc unfolds the paper. He reads aloud to himself only partially.
"The Edgecrusher wins his debut match... will face Raven for a shot at a shot at gold." Marc drops the paper to the ground staring blankly at the walls. The Edgecrusher looks to his left and fights the pulled muscle on his shoulder looking to the right.
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"
This was it, this was Marc's real chance. Luck had given him his debut match. Luck had somehow managed him a win despite a complete black out thanks to booze. Now he had a real chance, somebody had noticed him. Somebody was ready to give him the opening. Marc's line was doing a blocking job like none other, as the star back it was his time to tuck the ball and pound forward.
TBC by ANYBODY!
"Welcome to Monday night RAW! I'm J.R. and alongside of me is the "King." A pause from good ole' JR as the camera pans the crowd, Jerrys voice breaks the silence.
"That's right JR we're here at the WW..... Raven... dumb ass... doesn't realize he's a 'tard.... this is FCW.... not the WWE..." The King begins to break up as darkness overtakes everything.
No sounds...
No site...
Nothing...
No site...
Nothing...
"Flap those fat-ass arms girls! Move it, let's go... let's go!" Marc's father rings out from the nothingness. The darkness still engulfs but the silence is replaced by nails on a chalkboard voice. "YOU CAN DO IT! GET GOING..." Suddenly the positive tone of Richard vanishes leaving behind little trace of sunshine. "MARC! you worthless shit! Get in this room right now!!!"
"Why father, why?" echoed in his head and reverberated through his body like a shock wave through the soul. "Why would you do this to me?" Marc repeated this to himself under his breath over and over again.
****
Marc snaps up from his laying position, he looks around the room groggily rubbing his eyes. His head pounding with every heartbeat he slowly pushes himself back to his feet from the cold concrete. He quickly realizes he is in the boiler room of the building, but something isn't right. Marc looks to his left, passed out nude midgets. He slowly turns his neck, pain shoots up from the left side of his body. It starts at the heel of his foot and travels up like lighting to his head.
Marc let's loose an almost childlike whimper then continues looking to his right. More drunk passed out midgets as well as a full grown tiger. The midgets nestled softly under the watchful eye of the tiger seems almost inviting to Marc. He quickly shakes the cob-webs from his head. He almost falls over realizing he still drunk from earlier in the night.
"What the hell happened?" He askers himself out loud. He is answered by a midget laying on a tiny couch in the corner.
"You got really drunk dip-shit!" The midget chucks a crumpled sheet of paper as he turns facing away and drifts off to slumber land. Marc manages to catch the paper and celebrates like a it was a super bowl touchdown. After an interview with Madden himself on his victory Marc unfolds the paper. He reads aloud to himself only partially.
"The Edgecrusher wins his debut match... will face Raven for a shot at a shot at gold." Marc drops the paper to the ground staring blankly at the walls. The Edgecrusher looks to his left and fights the pulled muscle on his shoulder looking to the right.
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"
This was it, this was Marc's real chance. Luck had given him his debut match. Luck had somehow managed him a win despite a complete black out thanks to booze. Now he had a real chance, somebody had noticed him. Somebody was ready to give him the opening. Marc's line was doing a blocking job like none other, as the star back it was his time to tuck the ball and pound forward.
QUOTE THE RAVEN... get a gimmick...
TBC by ANYBODY!
