Main Event: Champs Choice

[Tamatoa Harikoa]

OOC: Sorry bout the delay. Crazy weekend travelling again.

The arena is set for the main event with the crowd in good spirits after another brilliant night in EVPW. An undistinguishable metal song with a screaming guitar solo pumps out of the speakers around the Solid Core Gymnasium at full volume, the PA system distorting slightly at the sound. Izzy Wright is in the center of the ring, getting the crowd amped and ready for the match.

Izzy Wright:
Ladies and Gentlemen! We have nearly reached the end of the night, and now it is time for tonight's Main Event!

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She pauses as she waits for a crowd response and recieves a loud pop from the crowd in return. With a satisfied grin on her face, she continues.

Izzy Wright:
Tonights main event will feature the returning of one of EVPW's sons, Agent Tran, freshly signed into a new contract and ready for action.
The match will be a Champion's Choice match. What this means is that the Imperial Champion, Thomas Cathy will enter first and announce the type of match that will be fought. It could be anything from a cage match, to a streetfight, to a first blood match. The possibilities are endless.

So, without any further ado... Lets get on with it!

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As she finishes, the crowd cheer in anticipation, all unsure about what exactly is going to happen next. The cheering from the crowd is interrupted as morse code bleeps over the speakers in the arena while Thrice's Image of the Invisible begins to play. Once more, the crowd gives a loud pop in waiting for the champion to arrive. A lightly distorted guitar plays over the top of the morse code as the verse begins, with red, white and green lights skittering around the arena quickly.

Izzy Wright:
Introducing first. Weighing in tonight at Two Hundred and Thirty Six Pounds. He hails from the Rough Streets of Cardiff, Wales. The current Imperial Champion and continuing his perfect undefeated record in singles matches... The man known as the Tom-Cat. Thomas Cathy!

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When the song kicks off into the chorus, the arena is flooded with light that accompanies the explosion of sound from the song. Thomas Cathy can be seen walking calmly from backstage, carrying a large trashcan in one of his hands. He smiles confidently as he makes his way into the arena, strolling with his trashcan. He forgoes his usual entrance procedure, turning instead back toward the top of the ramp. As he and the crowd around the arena look on, six men, all dressed in black security outfits accompany him to the ring. Each man holds in his hand a trashcan similar to that which Cathy himself is brandishing. Together, the seven men snake their way down the ramp of the Gymnasium and make their way toward the ring.

Jimmy Pate:
What on earth has the Tom-Cat got planned here? There is something in those trashcans, and god only knows what.

Ray White:
I hope it is something fabulous! Something soft and frilly perhaps. Maybe a pillow. Oh, a pillow fight would be super!

Jimmy Pate:
Um, Ray... You do know where you are right. This is champion's choice, not Ray White's creepy fantasies.

Ray White:
Sorry JP. I guess I'm just giddy with anticipation. I love suprises!

[/center]

When all men have made it into the ring, the Tom-Cat puts his trashcan down in the center and proceeds to take a mike from ringside, obviously to explain what on earth is happening. He lifts the mike to speak, pausing only for a moment to scan the crowd around the Solid Core Gymnasium with his eyes. His words dance from his lips almost musically as he speaks, his thick Welsh accent disguising some of what he is saying. His eyes, as usual, remain cold and stare out at the crowd, not giving any emotions away. Even as the crowd cheer him, he remains his calm exterior and waits to speak.

Thomas Carthy:
I normally like to let my actions speak for me, but in this case, I think that it is fitting that I would explain myself a bit, right?

See, this has all got to be clear as mud right now, and I can see your faces, looking at me as if I 'ave gone barmy. Well, gentlemen. Hows about you open up them cans, and show these people what is in store for tonight...

[/center]

As one, the security guards, along with the Tom-Cat, whip the lids off the trashcans to reveal the contents. Shards of glass glint in the lights of the arena, shining as some type of warning for what is going to follow. As the crowd begin to murmer about what this all means, the Tom-Cat begins to talk once more, going through his chosen match.

Thomas Cathy:
This is a champion's choice match, and with this belt around my waist, I have the pleasure of choosing the settings for tonights match. See, where I come from, we like to do two things... Drink and fight.
So, why not combine the two? T'would be a good night for all, wouldn't you agree.

Blokes and bitches... Tonights Main Event will be a Broken Bottles Streetfight, straigt from the streets of Cardiff. With the assistance of these fine cobbers here, this ring will be covered in broken beer and wine bottles, only the finest Welsh ale of course. The ground will be completely littered with razor sharp shards of glass. The floor around the outside of the ring too...
Here are the rules. Last man left with the ability to walk is the winner. All weapons legal, no holds barred, just like they do it back home. Agent Tran... Welcome to Cardiff son, hope you brought some band-aids.

[/center]

With that said, Cathy tosses the mike aside and the seven men begin emptying the contents of their trashcans around the arena, covering the mat of the ring, the ground around the arena and any space that is left uncovered. Jagged fragments of bottles sharply stick out in all directions as the match is prepared. The Tom-Cat looks satisfied with his surroundings as he waits for Agent Tran to show up. When the six security guards have finished emtying their cans, the trashcans are tossed aside and the black clad men quietly exit the arena. All that is left now is for the match to start.

TBC Agent Tran

Any questions about the match at all, PM me. Its a relatively simple concept though lol

[Vladimir Strife]

((I think I got it))

'Stone Glass Window' by Blessid Union Of Souls www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4jceGlU__Q) begins to play, the fans diverting their attention from the heap of busted glass to the entrance. Agent Tran steps from the back, a man the crowd has failed to see in months now. He tags a few hands on his way to the ring, few people having opinions of the star so far.

"And his opponent... hailing from Atlanta, Georgia... he is one half of Bad Company... AGENT TRAN!"

Tran walks to the ring, stopping before getting in and making his way to the announce table instead. He retrieves a microphone and looks in to Thomas Cathy.

"Let me get this straight... your best 2 traits are Fighting and Drinking? Let me tell you something, son... You don't need to go to Cardiff for that kind of a plan and if you think so, you ain't never been to the south! I was sipping whiskey from the baby bottle and if you ain't a fighter where I come from, you ain't a man. That being said, let's get this rodeo on!!"

Tran runs up the steps and swings his leg into the ring, the champ pouncing him before he's fully in. Tran spills out onto the floor, the Cardiff native climbing out after him.

TBCB Thomas Cathy

[Tamatoa Harikoa]

As the fight quickly turns to the outside, dangerous pieces of glass scatter in all directions. Agent Tran lands squarely on one upturned bottle shard and it digs deeply into his back, cutting into the soft flesh in between his shoulder blades. Cathy follows him outside calmly, taking his time not to cut himself in the process. He stands over the Southerner and kicks Tran squarely in the face with his large black boot. The green laces that flow down the length of the boot almost imprint Agent Tran's forehead in the process as his foot looks to drive through the skull of the Southerner.

To make matters worse, the Welshman lifts a broken bottle up off the ground and holds it firmly in hs grasp, almost lovingly. Half the bottle is still intact, but where it cuts of, a jagged and razor sharp edge is left, making for a half decent weapon, and both men know it. The Tom-Cat wastes little time and shows not even so much as a second thought before he swipes out at the face of the excited Southerner. Agent Tran has enough time to react, and kicks out at the kneecap of the Welshman before the bottle can slice him open. His kick takes Cathy down, with the thug from Cardiff splashing across a bed of jagged bottles and broken glass that cuts into his skin unlovingly. The sight of blood brings a smile to Agent Tran's face as he sits up and begins to pull the larger pieces of glass from his back. He checks his lip, which is bleeding from Cathy's earlier boot to the face, before taking his time to stand to his feet. Cathy, in the meantime, is busy writhing around amongst the glass, his first taste of pain coming as a suprise to the young champion.

Jimmy Pate:
It is a lethal mix. Two action starved gladiators, two different agenda to prove and one hell of a lot of glass. A lethal mix that comes as a thing of pure beauty.

Ray White:
And these men have nowhere to go. Nowhere to escape the vast ocean of broken bottles and the stench of old beer that surrounds them. It is like happy our down at the local bar.

Jimmy Pate:
Sure is... But you wouldn't know much about the local bar now would you Ray, you are too busy going to that new "Alternative" club on Fourth and Main.

Ray White:
If it is a crime to be classy and sophisticated, then I am guilty as charged.

Ray chortles a small giggle that is tactfully ignored by JP, the more pressing issue of the Broken Bottles match ahead of them.

With the young champion still pre-occupied, Agent Tran has time to stand to his feet and shake off more of his body, ridding himself of some pesky glass shards before turning his attention to his opponent once more. He stomps on the body of Thomas Cathy, driving him down into the ground, deeper into the large fragments of bottles and glass that have been digging into his body. A low grunt of discomfort preceeds a much longer moan of pain as Tran's foot forces the Welshman into the ground even more. Tran releases his foot after afew seconds and Cathy rolls over to escape the onslaught, ignoring the glass that now cuts into more and more of his body. He stands up to his feet, scrambling away from his opponent as he tries to reach a vertical base.

Tran has other ideas as he stalks his opponent, grabbing a hold of Cathy's head to stop him from running away and flingign him over the commentator's desk at Jimmy Pate and Ray White. JP moves out of the way rapidly, leaping from his chair to avoid being hit by a flying Welshman, but Ray stays put, the smile platered on his face like a small child at Christmas time. His headset remains on his head, Ray does not even bat an eyelid as the champion virtually lands on his lap. Tran looks on, angered that Cathy rolled over the desk completely instead of stopping on top of it, and rounds the corner to retrieve his prey, much to the dismay of the commentry crew.

Ray White:
I never thought I would get this close to the Tom-Cat. I gotta tell y'all, he's even sexier close up than he is from a distance. Should I unwrap my present?

Jimmy Pate: *Voice is distant as he is far away from his microphone*
Ray, I swear to god...

Just get the hell out of the way! I'm sure that Agent Tran doesn't want you in his path. He will go right through you.

Ray looks over at the raging Southerner approaching and scarpers, putting the Welshman in between himself and Tran as some form of a human shield. Ray holds him behind his back, locking his arms in place to avoid Cathy struggling free, despite the Welshman's protests.

Ray White:
Here, you have him!

Agent Tran looks at Ray, unbelieving of what he is seeing. He smiles as he grabs Cathy by the scruff of his neck, swatting him across the cheek with a strong right hand that turns the Welshman's head to the side. He drives the dazed Welshman's skull into the commentry desk hard, a thud ringing out from the microphones as he does so. Tran repeats the shot, slamming the head of the Welshman into the desk a second time.

*THUD*

With the Welshman stunned, Agent Tran rolls Cathy onto the top of the desk, sitting him uncomfortably on top of the monitors and recievers embedded into the desk itself, setting up for some sort of carnage. With the groan of effort, he climbs up onto the desk, standing above the Welshman triumphantly. He puts his hands on his hips and sticks his chest out mockingly, adding insult to the injury of Cathy. It is an insult that would cost him, as Cathy reaches a foot up in between the Southerner's legs and drives it upwards, kicking him squarely in the balls with a sickening *Thwack*. No noise escapes out of Agent Tran's mouth, he simply drops to his knees and falls forward onto the desk. Cathy dodges out of the way of the toppling Tran, who crashes onto the desk like a Redwood in the forest. The crowd lets out a collective gasp, the pain of the shot shooting through every male in attendance. Meanwhile, Cathy stands to his feet above Agent Tran, the roles reversed. Now he stands tall and proud, yet instead of showboating, he simply leaps into the air, aiming an elbow toward the back of the Southerner.

TBC Agent Tran