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Post by M BISON on Jul 6, 2009 12:31:58 GMT -4
After Stone Orchard's promo backstage (will link when Matt writes it), Lizzie stands in the ring with a microphone and a cue card in her clutches. Lizzie: "The following contest is a Street Fight Match for the United Glory Championships! Falls only count in the ring, but there are no rules and plenty of weapons in this bout!"A few moments later, "The Profit of Doom" by Type O Negative hits the PA, prompting an uproar of applause. The slow and heavy riff resonates through the arena as smoke begins billowing up from the floor in front of the entrance curtain. After a few seconds to allow the song to play, a shopping cart is pushed through the smoke, followed by the tag champions themselves. Both Metal Dragon and Matthew Oliveira wear jeans, the Genius with kneepads over his pants. A tag team belt is around both waists, and both torsos are clad in Matt's newly-made Billy Mays Memorial Shirt. Dragon pushes the cart while Oliveira carries his signature thumbtack chair. "Introducing first, at a combined weight of 478 pounds, they are the EVPW United Glory Champions... They are Metal Dragon and Matthew Oliveira... STONE ORCHARD!"JP: "Well, there are the tag champions from SNK, and listen to the ovation they're getting!"Ray: "Okay, two barbarian idiots against two refined gentlemen... Sorry Jimmy, but I'm going to have to root for AND predict that there will be new United Glory Champions tonight, and the belts will come back to Genesis where they belong. Even better, it'll be on our show, but not in possession of some bimbo and some crybaby like it was last time."MD shoves the shopping cart into the ring, filled with an assortment of the usual kendo sticks, lighttubes, and barbed wire-wrapped things, but also containing many gang and mob weapons such as prison shanks, brass knuckles, and billy clubs. Matt slides his tack chair into the ring before sliding in after it, Metal choosing to admire the variety of weaponry that he brought in tonight. MD finally slides in the ring as Matthew has gotten to the other side of it. The Canadian sits down while the American gets some final stretching in, the two men beginning to patiently wait for their challengers. TBC The Family |
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Post by Tamatoa Harikoa on Jul 7, 2009 6:42:52 GMT -4
[/b][/center] The word dances and echoes its way around the arena, spoken in almost a whisper, but with enough voice behind it to rouse interest. The voice is hushed, thoughtful, yet with a sinister undertone to it that sends shivers down a grown man’s spine. Lightning flashes, illuminating the screen for a second. In the brief patch of light, a man is seen, his back to the camera, looking out the window of a Victorian style house. Again, the screen falls to darkness with the fading of the lightning. Not complete darkness, enough to still make out the faint shadow of the figure against the window pane. He does not move from his vantage point, even as he speaks a second time. His words still as mysterious as before. ”I’ll tell you about respect.” [/b][/center] As he pauses, a second lightning strike occurs lighting the scene up again. As it fades, as quickly as it had come, a dim blue light remains, just enough to make the shadowy figure slightly clearer. Outside the window, persistent raindrops fall against the pane, creating somewhat of an ambience in the background. The shadow hidden man leans forward, resting his hand against the cold glass as he speaks again, his words seemingly chosen carefully, meticulously. Each word is laboured with passion through his husky voice. ”One simple word, yet it seems to drive man crazy, sickened with his own lust for it… Respect.” [/b][/center] He turns, his head slightly bowed so that the brim of his Fedora hat hides his facial features. As he wheels around, the camera zooms out, revealing an office-like setup. Behind where he had been standing against the window is a large mahogany desk and comfortable looking leather desk chair. Many things around the room are shrouded by darkness, although one can make out some nameless shadows of objects that adorn the man’s large desk. Reaching out a hand, he pulls in a downwards motion what seems to be darkness. With a click, the desk lamp burst into life, flooding the room with a small yet comforting light. When he looks up, the man is looking straight into the camera. His eyes twinkle with unknown emotions, yet his face remains hard to read. As he speaks, the words seem to almost fall out of his mouth, spat out as if they were a poorly cooked meal. The Godfather, Hayden HardKore takes off his Fedora and places it on the desk as he continues to talk, his words gaining in fervour over time. ”I know, because I used to quest for it also.
In fact, I learnt quite a lot about that word in my time. Information that has helped me get to the point where I am today. Facts about life that seem unfair, unjust, even cruel. But such is life, nice guys finish last; the bad guy always wins.” [/b][/center] Hayden seems to almost smile as he ponders his words. Before continuing, he reaches inside his jacket pocket, pulling a flip- knife from within the charcoal grey, pinstriped confines of his pocket. Expertly, he flips the blade open and examines it with his fingers, while his voice is taken back to the husky low voice like at the start of the scene. While speaking he sits down at the leather chair, sliding straight into what looks to be a well worn position of comfort. ”You see, respect is not something that one simply acquires. It is not something that is given or that one can simply achieve.
You do not gain respect by being nice to people, you gain nothing but your own self-preserving ego trip. You aren’t given respect by people, nor can you demand that you should be. So no, I don’t demand respect; I know the secrets."
"Respect is not given… It is taken.” [/b][/center] Hayden’s smile seems to grow as he stops examining the knife to look at the camera, which has now come down to his level and looks straight across the table at him. His eyes twinkle as the words keep tumbling out of his mouth. ”Sure, you can show respect. And I show respect to those who choose to show it to me. My Family, daily risking their own lives to better serve my empire. My contacts, business partners and others that I have taken respect from to get where I am.
But some… Some choose to not show any respect to me. Some need to be taught a lesson” [/b][/center] By now the smile on his face had vanished, replaced with a sinister scowl that joins his ever narrowing eyes. In a swift motion, Hayden takes the knife and drives it deep into the hardwood surface of the table, the blade singing its melee melody as it cuts through the wooden surface. This comes dangerously close to the camera, which catches the blade of the knife still wobbling slightly from the sudden impact. When the camera zooms out once more, Hayden is standing, the lighting striking behind him through the window adding to the bi-polar like rage that now burns in his eyes. Small dollops of spit escape his mouth as he chokes out the next two words. ”Stone Orchard."
"They let on that they do not fear the Family, spending their time cutting cheesy music rip-offs of annoyingly repetitive songs instead of the usual banter against one’s opponents leading up to Ragnarok.
They act as though they don’t care, but I see the fear in their eyes, I see into their blackened souls and I smile to myself. Metal Dragon, Matthew Oliviera. This is not the first time that we would have met in the ring, nor will it be the last. But by the end of Ragnarok, you will respect me. You will respect the Family.” [/b][/center] Hayden’s breathing had become rapid, almost frothing at the mouth while he manically shouts at the camera, as one would after being given the wrong order at McDonalds. Slowly, his breathing slows and he calms down slightly before continuing his spiel ”And how do you take respect from somebody who does not want to give it?
Simple. And it is the same way that you control it once you have it."
"Fear."
"Perilous, petrifying fear of the unknown. Fear of what will become of you should you not obey.
I sense the fear, like a rabid dog, I smell it… I taste it. I revel in it.” [/b][/center] Hayden leans forward, yanking the blade from where it stands, still swaying to and fro from its resting place in the hard wood of the table. He lifts it up, blade gleaming into the camera. ”You will respect the Family, even if I have to carve it into your foreheads myself…” [/b][/center] Hayden slams the blade into the table again, this time sliding it through the wood on his way to carving out a pattern into the mahogany. When he is done, he tosses the blade onto the table uncaringly, the blade still shimmering in the light and confidently walks off, out of the shot. The camera focuses in on the carving. An F stands in the center of the table, taking up most of the space. It is carved in an Old English script, with vine-like branches shooting out of the stalk of different parts of the design. Still gleaming in satisfaction of a job well done, the blade lies on top of part of the “F”, rocking backward and forward slightly, catching the light each time. The Family’s insignia superimposes over the screen, perfectly in sync with the insignia carved onto the table. As the scene fades out, a single word is heard whispered like a song on an autumn breeze. ”Respect” [/b][/center][/quote] Stone Orchard does not have to wait long after the promo airs, as the cutting sound of gunfire fills the cool air. Soon, the arena is plunged into darkness, except for the skittering of pyrotechnics that skim across the stage like bullets finding their targets. From left to right, the stage is assaulted, as the pyrotechnics skim across the ButcherTron before disappearing into nothingness once more, leaving the Family’s insignia glimmering on the giant screen, flames licking around the edges of the design like the playful tongue of an over excited puppy meeting a new play-pal. As the gunfire comes to a close, CKY’s “96 Quite Bitter Beings” blasts out of the PA system, trumpeting the arrival of the Family. The darkness is broken as strobe lighting flashes throughout the arena, an epileptic person’s worst nightmare. Almost as a beacon of light amidst the chaos-like strobe, green searchlights are skimmed across the crowd, before coming to a common meeting point, half way up the entrance ramp. In the dim light, only the silhouette of shadows can be made out. Three figures stand in the darkness, faces hidden in the mixture of sporadic lighting and mist-like dry ice. Only the green band on each of their matching Fedora hats catches the eye, while the trio stands as still as statues. The smaller of the three stands in the front, with the larger men flanking the shorter figure on each side. On the left stands the largest of the three, staunchly standing with his hands by his sides, like some kind of loyally programmed robot, waiting for its master’s instructions. The instructions come in the very subtle form of a simple nod from the third, non-descript man. The final figure, one who is not too tall, yet not too short; not to muscular, yet not all skin and bones either, gives the simple instruction to move off. With Lizzie Morna shuffling cue cards in her slender hands, the Family steps off and into the light of the arena. ~~Lizzie Morna~~
And introducing secondly…
At a combined weight of Four Hundred and Seventy Seven pounds, they are the current Number One Contenders for the EVPW United Glory Championship. Being accompanied to the ring by “Bobby” the Lockpicking Orphan.
The Team of The “Tom-Cat”, Thomas Cathy and the Godfather, “Don” Hayden HardKore… EVPW’s own Mafia, The Family! [/center] As the three step into the light, their identities are revealed properly, save for the brims of their matching hats hiding their faces somewhat. Only when they are walking in the light do the addition of certain objects catch the eye. A glint is caught from behind the Godfather as he walks toward the front of the entrance stage. As he lifts his arm up, his trusty Ball’n’Chain flail comes into view, slung comfortably over his shoulder and draping down his back like the train of a wedding robe. Similarly, the Tom-Cat has his right hand clasped around a simple, yet brutally effective looking length of steel piping, his familiar cold-blooded scowl spread across his deceptively innocent looking face. Upon closer inspection, the purpose of bringing the young orphan “Bobby” to the ring becomes all too clear. His torso looks somewhat like a Arnold Schwarzenegger movie, with a number of different choices of weaponry strapped across his body, ranging from a full looking six pack of cheap “Milwaukee’s Best” beer to a frypan, to a simple claw hammer, with price tag still hanging from the handle. Armed to the teeth (or more appropriately, armed to the teet), he walks ahead of Cathy and the Godfather, matching their confident swagger with a skip in his own step. In both hands the boy clutches a longer weapon, a kendo stick in the left and a genuine “Louisville Slugger” wooden baseball bat in the right. Surely, a work from the Jackass’ own mind, Hayden shows off a glint in his own eye as he follows behind Bobby’s shoulder. Slowly, without showing the fans even the common decency to acknowledge them, the Family make the long trudge through the Ragnarok arena toward the ring. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
Words can’t really seem to express the sight before our eyes at present Ray. Here we have two men, knowing full well the dangers associated with a match of this variety, bringing a child down to ringside to act as their personal arms bearer… This is madness!
~~Ray White~~
Madness? This is… Ragnarok!
Ahem, well… I’m sure it is a plan from Hayden’s own messed up mind. He sure has made good use of Bobby the Orphan of late.
~~Jimmy Pate~~
I just hope that the poor boy doesn’t get hurt, or even worse on account of his evil keeper’s sick and twisted desire for blood. I just hope that Metal Dragon and Matthew Oliviera have a bit more sense about them. [/center] JP’s worst fears are revealed when he looks toward the ring, housing the eager figures of Stone Orchard. Rob and Matt, in an effort to further psych themselves up for the match are busy taking turns to slap each other across the face and almost breaking out into hysterics in the process, to the point where cries of “Thank-you sir, may I have another” fill the air. To cut their fraternity-like pre-match preparation short, their party is crashed when the lumbering figure of the Welshman clambers up the steel steps, tossing his Fedora aside in the process to leave him standing in his green trunks, with a red Welsh Dragon design across the back. As per his duty, he lowers the rope to make it easier for the cigar smoking Godfather to slip into the ring. Hayden does so gracefully, snuffing out the Cuban cigar with the sole of his Chuck Taylor’s, before tossing his own hat to Bobby, who by now had taken his position outside the ring, ready and waiting for when he would have his services called upon. Both teams stand staring at each other, snarling and grunting as they begin to size each other up. Doing his best to hold them at an arms length of each other, the ref finally calls for the bell to sound the start of the match. The sound of the bell sends the arena into an uproar, as the teams prepare to square off against each other for the very first time, with all the marbles to win and all the dreams to be shattered. TBC SO Edit: Added Promo and changes afew things at start of entrance to make it fit properly~ Link is also available through Promo's threads for any comments you wish to make there. |
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Post by M BISON on Jul 8, 2009 2:21:38 GMT -4
As the final echoes of the ring bell fade, Metal Dragon approaches Hayden and Matthew Oliveira approaches Thomas Cathy. Thumbtack chair in hand, The Hardcore Genius readies to swing, but stops in his tracks. Having done his homework on gangsters by watching Scarface and playing Mafia Wars on Facebook, Oliveira puts on a fake Cuban accent and begins shouting to Thomas.
"You wanna play games? Okay..."
JP: "What did he say?"
Ray: "I think he said he wants to play with them. If they're not game, I sure am."
Thomas Cathy raises his fists as Matt stews with weapon in hand. MD and Hayden square off, but can't help but to glance at the heavyweights every couple of seconds.
"YOU WANNA PLAY WITH US? OKAY! SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!"
Oliveira swings the tack chair overhead, striking the Welsh brawler in the cranium and sending him to the mat. The two middleweights in the bout begin trading punches, Hayden eventually getting a quick one-two in before forcing Dragon into the corner. TC (not Carroll) gets up and immediately takes another hard shot from the thumbtack-covered metal furniture that Oliveira bears, hitting the canvas as quickly as he got off of it. The Jackass has kneed his current target in the gut over in the corner, then turns around and wraps his arm around the Metallic One's head. Matthew turns toward the two lighter competitors as The Godfather begins walking forward. Hayden's intentions of a Bulldog are stopped as Matt raises the tack chair and smashes it into the forehead of the New Zealander. A moment in a daze for Double H allows MD to wrap his arms around the mobster's waist and lift him up. At the same time, Oliveira drops his tack chair onto the mat, and Metal Dragon spins around with Hayden lifted up in his grasp. A Belly-to-Back Suplex plants Hayden HardKore's neck and shoulders onto the steel and tacks, eliciting a huge cheer from the crowd.
"Hayden HardKore just got dropped onto that thumbtack chair! What an impact in the early stages of this match!"
"Stone Orchard and The Family both do things like I like it. VERY hard and VERY fast-paced."
"God, White... THEY WRESTLE THAT WAY. STOP IT. YOU HAVE NEVER HAD SEX WITH THEM AND YOU DO NOT HOW HOW BIG THEIR HOSES ARE. STOP."
"...Sorry."
MD goes for a quick cover just for the hell of it, the ref sliding into position as Matt turns his attention to Tom-Cat. 1... 2... Hayden kicks out. Cathy has rolled out of the ring and is rooting through the shopping cart. The brawler from Cardiff grabs a sharp prison shank from the multitude of items available. Oliveira backs up as Cathy slides into the ring with the dangerous knife, Dragon getting up as well. "Holy shit!" escapes the mouth of the Man of Golden Words as he stumbles back, seeing Tom-Cat and understandably being slightly unnerved. Thomas steps to the side and grips the shank tightly in his hand before sticking it into the turnbuckle pad, then raises his fists. Eyes switching between Thomas Cathy and the prison shank, Metal Dragon creeps toward The Family's enforcer. Thomas reaches for the shank and Dragon backs away, TC leaving the sharp object in the pad for now. The American steps back, trying to rack his brain for a solution, when an arm suddenly slips between his legs. Hayden HardKore pulls MD back, rolling him up into a pinning predicament as the two heavyweights walk toward each other again.
1... 2... Dragon bucks his shoulders off of the canvas. Matt balls his fists and throws the first punch towards the Welsh badass. Cathy's jaw is rattled, but he throws a right hand in return which connects with the cheek of the Genius. Matt shrugs the blow off rather quickly and swings an elbow forward only for Tom to duck and punch Oliveira in a rather sensitive area of his body. Matt bends over in pain, holding his groin as the crowd boos the lame but legal tactic. Thomas glances over to Hayden, who is delivering mounted punches to MD, before swinging a fist overhead and striking the back of Matt's neck. The Canadian goes down to his hands and knees, and a smirk comes onto Thomas Cathy's face before he pulls the prison shank from the turnbuckle pad. Tom steps over Matt, one leg on each side of the Genius, and pulls his head up by the hair with his free hand. Tom-Cat grips the weapon tightly before sticking the point into the forehead of Matthew Oliveira, then the larger half of the tag team challengers begins twisting the cheaply-made knife. Oliveira begins screaming in pain as blood escapes his body and begins its journey down his face.
"There's that sharp prison shank in the skin of Matt Oliveira! He's at Thomas Cathy's mercy right now!"
"He should be happy that he's fighting a brawler like Cathy instead of a psycho like they had in Carson last week. Hey, it sucks, but at least Tom's a gentleman and won't slit your throat on a whim."
Thomas Cathy lets go of Matthew's hair and allows his head to drop to the canvas, his Canadian adversary beginning to bleed onto the ring's white covering. TC wipes his weapon off on his wrestling shorts, the dark green turning darker when the blood stains it. Hayden and MD have now gotten to a standing position where The Godfather chokes the Tennessean in the corner. Thomas Cathy makes his way over there and Hayden looks back at him, then releases Dragon's neck. The Man of Golden Words staggers out of the corner and the sly Jackass slips behind him before hooking his arms behind those of MD. Dragon's body is held in place, then Cathy grabs his hair to hold him in place before sticking the tip of the prison shank into Dragon's forehead. The knife twists once, tearing through the skin and touching the skull for a moment. Cathy then pulls the weapon out before wiping it off again, then Tom-Cat immediately puts it on the right side of Dragon's forehead and quickly swipes it across, creating a cut that is not as deep as the stab but covering the whole length of MD's head.
"The sadistic Family has carved into Dragon as well! They're in total control right now and they've got the long-term advantage considering the blood loss that's about to occur!"
"This early in the match, setting a tone like this is very valuable. It's not a surprise that The Family are the ones creating the bloodshed right now, since it goes without saying that they're the smarter ones in this match."
As a veil of blood begins to come out of the new wound, Oliveira gathers himself and gets up to his knees, only currently thinking about rescuing his tag partner and turning the match around. Hayden turns around and weaves his arms through those of Dragon again, then turns toward the center of the ring and lunges forward. Dragon is pulled over the Jackass and his shoulders are pinned to the mat with a Back Slide as the ref slides into position. Matthew crawls toward the other three men while the striped man's hand hits the canvas: 1... 2... MD kicks out. Oliveira sees his thumbtack chair nearby and crawls just a bit more, then snags it and springs up.
"RAWR!"
Thomas Cathy turns around only to see a vast number of thumbtacks coming toward him, the steel and sharp barbs colliding with his face and knocking him to the mat. The prison shank is dropped from the impact and Matthew quickly kicks it out of the ring. Hayden gets up and grabs the tack chair, then tugs on it in an effort to free the weapon from its maker's clutches. After an unsuccessful pair of pulls, the New Zealander shoves it into the stomach of Matt. The tenacious United Glory Champion doesn't let go, instead shoving it back into the gut of Hayden. As Metal Dragon gets up behind the two, Hayden tries to kick his heavyweight adversary, but Oliveira moves his legs away. Dragon finally gets to his feet and sneaks behind Jackass, at which point Matt lets go. Hayden stumbles back after an unexpected release of resistance, right into Dragon's arms as they wrap around his waist. Before The Godfather can realize what's about to happen, his fellow former King of Deathmatches explodes backward and throws Hayden back with him. The Don's upper back hits the mat with a resounding thud, the tack chair being released from his hands as the impact is made.
Thomas Cathy has pulled himself up to a vertical base in the corner and rests, shaking off the vicious chairshot that he received. MD gets up and rushes to the tack chair, grabbing it and approaching the two bigger men in the match. The Cardiff Crusher turns around in the corner and immediately meets the forearm of a running Matt, clotheslining him into the padding. Tom stumbles out of his location as Dragon sneaks behind him and unfolds the tack chair. Oliveira then ducks down and grabs TC behind the thighs before lifting him up, MD setting the chair down at that exact moment. The Hardcore Genius steps forward and drops the former Imperial Champion onto the tack chair, plenty of the sharp objects piercing into the Welshman's hindquarters as he lets out a howl of agony.
"Inverted Atomic Drop onto the thumbtack chair! He's got a bunch of tacks in his ass now!"
"Damn it! I'd love for more holes to be available there, but not due to that!"
TBC The Family
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Post by Tamatoa Harikoa on Jul 9, 2009 23:57:32 GMT -4
Reeling from the tumbtack fuelled Inverted Atomic Drop, Cathy lumps forward, falling onto the ground. In a reflex action, his hands desperately try to cover the pain, shooting to his hindquarters instinctively. This only serves to push the tumbtacks further into his soft flesh, leading him to grunt in anger once more. Across the ring, meanwhile, the Godfather and Metal Dragon proceed to slug it out, with both men now back to a vertical base. Hayden, still dizzy from the German Suplex earlier, swings wildly in the general direction of his nemesis, but MD is easily able to dodge the move and batter the Mafia leader to the ground once more with both hands. This time the Godfather stays down, face pummelled into the canvas like a tent peg. With his face a matted mess of blood, Metal Dragon blinks his stinging eyes, not taking his attention off the unpredictable Jackass for a moment. Meanwhile, Oliviera had managed to turn the tables around of the Tom-Cat, stopping the relentless Welshman’s momentum dead in its tracks. He does not let Cathy have the time to recuperate, or even the time to pull the multitude of thumbtacks out of his ass before he is back on the assault. Lining up the distracted head of the Welshman, the Hardcore Genius dashes towards him, a gargled sort of war-cry erupting from his throat. Without a second thought, he plants a boot to the side of Cathy’s head as the Welsh Enforcer struggles to his knees. The Yakuza Kick sends the Welshman spiralling off balance and sliding out of the ring, leaving the Godfather isolated, alone and broken in the center of the ring, with both members of Stone Orchard smelling blood in the waters. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
It seems the tables have turned Ray. Now it is the Orchard who are firmly in control.
~~Ray White~~
And that spells trouble for the Godfather… With a capital T
~~Jimmy Pate~~
He’s all alone, nobody to hide behind and about to get his come-uppance. Its about damn time aswell! [/center] Stone Orchard approach the Godfather slowly, dragging out the inevitable. Flanking him from both sides, the Godfather has nowhere to go. Hayden looks up from his knees, staring into the bloodshot eyes of Metal Dragon, then to his right, seeing the lumbering figure of Matthew Oliviera approaching. The Godfather gulps in preparation for the oncoming pain. With a sickening grin to match the Godfather’s own usual look, Oliviera grabs at the Mafia leader, whipping him into the corner. Hayden collides with the turnbuckle with such velocity, the spit ejected from his mouth lands across the cheek of an unsuspecting fan in the front row. Spurred on by the cheering of the crowd, Oliviera grabs his own team mate by the wrist and flings him in the same direction of Hayden. MD crashes full long into the Godfather, with the force of a two tonne truck hitting a lost rabbit along a dusty highway, sending the Jackass’ body into the air momentarily before he comes back down to land on his wobbly feet once again. Closing in on him, Matthew Oliviera grabs the dazed mob boss by the scruff of his neck, easily lifting the 212lb man into the air and twisting his legs to trap the Godfather, dangling from the top of the corner turnbuckle in a Tree of Woe. Regaining his vertical base, Metal Dragon flashes a grin at Oliveira, the sight of a helpless and defenceless Mafia Boss hanging from the turnbuckle very aesthetically pleasing. Both men ball their fists in time with the other, licking their chops as they eye up the Godfather. At the same time, they unload on Hayden with a brutal barrage of fists, each one rocking the mob boss into a howl of pain. It doesn’t take long for the Inverted Punches to turn into somewhat of a competition between the Orchard. The Hardcore Genius first, socking the Jackass with a vicious right fist, before turning to his partner. In a gravelly voice and through a grinning fence of white teeth, Oliviera is heard to say ~~Matty-O~~
C’mon then… Lets see you beat that! [/center] Going for a slightly different tact, knowing that facing power one-on-one with the Hardcore Genius is probably not the best of ideas, MD opens his fist to an open palm an winds up for what proves to be a very loud and very painful looking slap across the chest. Once again, Hayden cries out in pain before the crowd are finished revelling in the chest-welting slap. MD looks over at his partner once more, who shakes his head back in disappointment before unleashing with another brutal shot to Hayden’s mid-section. Before Metal Dragon can go in for another strike, his feet are swiped out from under him, and he is dragged from the ring to the lightly padded concrete below. With the Tom-Cat still licking his paws from Oliviera’s beating, all eyes look toward the outside to locate the assailant. Dashing almost inconspicuously under the ring is a streak of tailor-made charcoal pin-striping. In his hurry to escape, Bobby the Orphan had left his hat behind, the charcoal coloured Fedora staring up at the Orchard from the floor, almost taunting the champions. MD is quick to lift the ring apron in search of the elusive bastard child, but his efforts prove fruitless. Grunting in disappointment, he turns his mind back to the matter at hand and turns his attention back to the Godfather once more. ~~Ray White~~
What the hell?!
Who the, what… JP, What just happened?
~~Jimmy Pate~~
I believe Bobby the Orphan just happened Ray. Obviously Hayden has him making sure that he doesn’t fall into too much trouble. And with the nature of this match, there isn’t a hell of a lot the ref can do about it.
~~Ray White~~
That is if he can catch him in the act. That bastard kid is so damned sneaky that I don’t think even Hayden knew what was happening! [/center] The distraction was enough for Hayden to escape the Tree of Woe. By the time both men from the Orchard realise that he had “flown the coop”, he was already armed, brandishing his trusty Ball’n’Chain and wincing in pain from the barrage of blows he had just been dealt. Oliviera is first to cop a blow, the Godfather swinging the flail above his head before trusting it forward to catch the larger Orchard member across the back of the neck. The Hardcore Genius, caught in the process of turning around, stumbles ironically into the very turnbuckle that he had flung the Godfather into earlier. Hayden keeps the Ball’n’Chain moving, the wind from the steel ball making loud ‘whooping’ noises as it circles in the air. The Godfather keeps once end of the chain wrapped firmly around his left fist, making sure that is cannot be grabbed from his clutches as he swings it toward the advancing Metal Dragon. As MD enters the ring again, he is caught across the shoulder, enough to stagger the man as the steel ball thumps into the right side of his body. Dragon clutches his right shoulder, the point of impact and stares through squinting eyes at the swinging flail once more. He watches it intently, knowing that the only way to combat Hayden and his flail would be to get the hell out of the way and counter attack. Hayden, feeling confident with his Ball’n’Chain in hand keeps aiming his attack at Metal Dragon again, the swooping ball narrowly missing MD’s head as it rotates through the air. The weapon keeps Oliviera at bay too, creating a circle of safety within which Hayden can avoid being attacked by the champions. As he aims his shot at Metal Dragon again, his opponent rolls out of the way, and a shot that was intended for MD’s head harmlessly sails through the air. The miss throws Hayden off balance, before the steel ball bounds into the top ring rope. With the momentum of the swing aiding it, the steel chain wraps around the rope, pulling Hayden closer toward it, the end of the chain still wrapped around his knuckle. It is his own flail, his own trusty weapon that proves to be his prison, trapping him close to the ropes, while the Orchard re-gather around him. Once again they close in on him, and once again, Hayden gulps in the impending doom that is to follow. Swinging his one free hand wildly at Oliviera, Hayden receives only a bemused smile from the big man as Stone Orchard play with the trapped leader, like a cat would play with a mouse it had just caught before dumping its lifeless, bloodied body onto its owner’s bed at Two O-Clock in the morning. They don’t get to play for long though, as Oliviera is hit from behind with 265lbs of flying Welshman. The Tom-Cat, almost forgotten in the proceedings, had come to save the day once more. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
Just when it seems that Stone Orchard is about to do away with the Godfather, once again, the Mafia Boss is saved by one of his employees.
~~Ray White~~
And here comes Cathy!
Two Hundred and Sixty Five Pounds of pure sexiness. Is it wrong that I find the sight of him sailing through the air on his way to brutalise another opponent so sexy… Almost angelic?
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Uh… Yes Ray. Yes it is. [/center] Oliviera is shot off balance, sprawling to the mat, before the Tom-Cat turns his attention to Metal Dragon. Looking to punish the Dragon for his part in the thumbtacks that now adorn his wrestling trunks, the Welshman lifts the Middleweight high above his head, tossing him out of the ring, Military Press Style. Metal Dragon sails through the air in what seems like slow motion before crashing down on the unforgiving concrete floor. With his boss still ties up in the ropes, the Welshman refocuses again on Oliviera. Picking up where the pair left off, Oliviera trips the Welshman to the ground, before both men come to a seated position, their legs sprawled out either side of them. With snarled faced and gritted teeth, the pair proceed to trade blows, each one as powerful as the other to their opponent’s unprotected head. As the Slug-Fest ensues, the crowd begin to cheer on their Champion, booing loudly for each strike that the Welshman lands and cheering just as loud for each strike that the Hardcore Genius lands. The backwards and forwards action creates a tennis-match like atmosphere, as fist after fist is slugged into the skull of the other. Before long the Slug-Fest comes to a climax, when both the Welshman and Oliviera use their left hand to grab the opponent by the head, each landing a rapid succession of brutal, blood-bringing blows that open fresh gauges and cuts over already open gauges and cuts on both foreheads. When, and only when the scene is awash a mess of blood and sweat do the pair land their final blow, a heavy haymaker from each that lands at exactly the same time, and both men fall backwards into Dreamsville. Still amped, even with the Slug Fest coming to no clear winner, the booming cheering and chants from the crowd reach a new high, unprecedented in the match so far as the bloodthirsty Street fight continues. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
One on one, trading blows in a Slug-Fest with Oliviera himself…
Well, if there is anybody out there that can match the man move for move and pound for pound, it would have to be the Tom-Cat.
~~Ray White~~
This match has just become a brutal, unforgiving quest for blood. And they are finding it right now. Every one of these men has blood pouring out of somewhere on their body. Every one of these men has pushed the limit in this match, and every one has seemed to have pushed past the line between brawling and madness.
This has turned into a real…Um, a…
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Street fight?
Hmm, funny that Ray… [/center] TBC SO |
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Post by MattOliveira on Jul 12, 2009 2:14:41 GMT -4
The cartoon caricature of Billy Mays rises and falls emblazed upon the shirt of the Hardcore Genius as the Tag Team Champion lies face up in the middle of the ring, midst the presence of an overturned shopping cart and a menagerie of foreign objects. The Welshman lies in a similar position across from Oliveira, he too falling victim to a “knuckular” barrage of sorts as he pines in weakness. A moment of down-time for these two enemy participants is interrupted by the ringing of chain as, adjacent to Cathy and Oliveira, Hayden is struggling to get himself free from his own kindred creation of the Ball n’ Chain as it’s constriction around the top rope left him helplessly tethered moments beforehand. The Don’s teeth are bared as he tugs away his arm from the tangle of steel, crimson and the odd thumbtack covering his brow as it furrows in frustration. Hayden twists his forearm from side to side, observing the twists and turns in the chain until he picks his way free to his chagrin resulting in a thud as the Ball follows through its tailings and drops onto the canvas below. The Kiwi (it’s not derogatory, right?) pivots on his Converse to the scene that awaits him with Matthew lying supine -and with a quick jolt backwards into the ropes behind- Hayden darts across the ring and past The Genius and towards the opposite trio of ropes. Within a meter’s distance, The Jackass extends his pace with a jump, stepping onto the middle rope and hurls his body back from once it came with an artful backflip. His lean (of at least the 4) frame gracefully executes the moonsault as he, ironically, comes crashing down across the midsection of Oliveira. The Genius’s body convulses into a fetal position as Hardkore’s rebound from the mat rolls him up onto his knees, quick to shove his palm into the raised shoulder of Matt and lurch him onto his back once more. Hardkore leans over his opponent as the referee drops to the canvas for the pin attempt:
“1…2…”
Oliveira writhes his shoulders from the ring surface and saves Stone Orchard from defeat. Meanwhile, outside the ring The Tennessee Tag-Titler collects his bearings with a snoop under the ring apron to discover a table in the darkness. He pinches his fingers around the unlucky furniture’s edge and begins to retract it from the depths of the unknown, lifting it up until he stands at a slouch. Suddenly, the table retracts somewhat, back under the ring as if it was in its own defense. MD curses under his breath as he’s caught off-guard, once again attempting to bring the table out from under the ring. For a second time, the table shifts against his will, harassed by an inanimate object once more. Dragon flips up the ring apron and growls, tugging with the table for a third time until he hears the light-hearted and high-pitched laughter in a voice of innocence. It is only then as to what pain-in-the-ass, immoral, defying of odds creature the former Dragon’s Rage champion is facing in the depths…that fucking kid. The Nashville-Native lowers himself onto his knees and picks up a broom that lay closer to the outskirts of the ring and holds it in his hands, jabbing into the darkness in a pestering manner while hissing obscenities all the while. Only after the broom is ripped from his hands does Metal Dragon quickly extract the table from under the squared circle and lifts it onto its side. Setting up the table, MD heads back towards the ring as Oliveira is held in a sharpshooter. As he climbs onto the apron, MD is swiftly whacked in the ankle with the broom from the crawlspace, leaving him to mutter a few more curses while he slithers under the bottom rope. Dragon comes to a stand and hobbles over to the shopping cart, out of the sight of the Jackass, and removes a Singapore cane from its trash can sheath. Oliveira croaks as Hayden rears back on his submission, his lungs withstanding not only the painful elevation but the weight of the New Zealander’s lower body. Matt, given his position and history of spinal trauma begins to extend his hand out over the canvas, coming a step closer to possibly succumbing to his predicament.
*CRACK*
Ray: “D’ooooooh! Hayden feels the wrath of Metal Dragon’s shaft! THAT’S GOTTA BURN.”
JP: “…Ray, those comments aren’t allowed in this state as of May of this year. You’re lucky you don’t get arrested from those innuendos.”Ray: “Fucking Mormons, what do THEY know about marriage anyways. THAT’S RIGHT, I CAN SHOOT TOO… *ahem* NO, THAT WASN’T A BODILY FLUIDS JOKE, SICKOES.”
Dragon laces the back of Hayden’s head with the cane, relieving Matt from the lower-body brutality inflicted upon him. Oliveira retreats to the edge of the ring while Dragon drives the cane across the horizontal frame of Hardkore, the stalks of bamboo expanding and contracting upon contact, pinching the exposed back of the Jackass. Hayden squirms and yelps in pain, saved by the partner as Cathy –recovered from his fist-fighting, grabs MD by the scruff of the neck. Dragon drops the cane in surprise, subdued by Tom’s grip which ejects him over the top rope and out to the floor once again…just slightly less airborne than the previous voyage. With Dragon and Oliveira expelled, The Family reside inside the ring with Hayden recovering as his hand presses against the back of his cranium, leaving Cathy to follow MD into the ringside area. Tom-Cat descends to the floor and clutches MD by the back of his head, tossing him brutishly into the steel guardrail as fans gallivant and hoot with excitement, one in particular donating his beer. Tom exposes a greasy smile, in his bloodied complexion, and takes the beer from the audience member –coiling his arm back. With a great swing, the can is smashed across the brow of the Tennesseean, sending him further into a slouch against the railing –reminiscent to the signature pop-a-squat his tag team partner takes nearly every entrance he executes. Nearby, Hayden creaks back onto his feet, staggering over to the closest accompanying side of the ring in position of his Family member. Cathy pulls MD off the guardrail and turns to peer up at Hayden, instructing his somewhat fatigued boss over to the turnbuckle. The Jackass, with tired eyes, does so without question as he steps through the ropes and onto the apron. Tom-Cat goes onto heave MD, groggy, onto the ring’s edge with an extra jab across the temple for good measure. The Family ascends the Metallic One onto the top turnbuckle post and Cathy hops off the ledge, watching as Hayden squats under and places the 220 pounder across his shoulders –looking out from the ring. The Welshman, with a smirk, drags the table MD had previously set slightly closer to the corner where a glazed Hayden awaits. Tom slaps the top of the wood as he coerces his boss into the idea of putting MD potentially away, waving him on as Hayden shakes the cobwebs from his head. Hardkore then jumps off the apron with Dragon in a fireman’s carry, somersaulting forward and driving his opponent through the table, both men landing in a pile of wrestler and oak.
*CRASH*
D'OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
JP: “Super Reverse Samoan Drop through the table! Tom-Cat called it on this one, Ray!”
Ray: “Those tag team titles are as good as Genesis’s…”
TBCB Hayden
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Post by Tamatoa Harikoa on Jul 12, 2009 6:57:00 GMT -4
The relentless Welshman casts his eyes down on the mangled mess of broken table and broken wrestlers. Both Metal Dragon and the Godfather are trapped inside the chaotic maze of jagged wood and twisted metal framing, digging deep into the soft flesh of each man’s bodies. Smiling, the Tom-Cat steals a glance up at the ButcherTron to the replays that are now running wild across the big screen, while the crowd enter into a hearty round of “Holy Shit” chants. Inside the ring, the remaining Orchard member had manages to pull himself to his feet, chest still rising and falling heavily with the effort as he uses the safety of the ring ropes to assist his journey. The big man, blood and sweat teeming off his weathered body blinks his eyes slowly, the glazed look slowly fading into a eye narrowing scowl. Across the arena, his eyes lock with the baby blue eyes of the ruthless Welshman, and momentarily, all thoughts of the Godfather and Metal Dragon’s fate are cast out of their minds. As if magnetised to each other, both men turn and begin to drift closer. If it were not for the evil intentions shining in their eyes, it would be an almost Hallmark worthy scene of male romance, the two seemingly moving in slow motion toward each other, hands outstretched, but not for a hug. On his way, the Hardcore Genius gathers some supplies, a half broken Kendo stick slides comfortably into his left fist, while a steel chair- now almost devoid of thumbtacks is gathered into the other. Simultaneously, the Welshman looks to equalise the situation, scanning the weapon wielding shopping cart at ringside and hurling items at his opponent inside the ring. As an assortment of cans, shanks and knives soar dangerously, intent on damaging Oliviera, the Hardcore Genius periodically swats them away with the kendo stick till he stands astride a littering of dangerous weapons himself. When the Tom-Cat hurls a pristine light tube at the Orchard member, Oliviera swipes it with the weapon, shattering the tube into a million tiny blades. Taking quick action to protect him from the broken shards, the majority of the glass digs into his chest and arms, having shielded his face from the assault. Seizing the opportunity, the Tom-Cat grabs a hold of a single metal pole, slightly longer than a baseball bat, holding it firmly in his right hand and patting it gently with the other. By the time Oliviera had unwrapped his arms from his face, the Tom-Cat had slid under the bottom rope and was closing in on him, steel pole brandished above his head on its beeline for the Hardcore Genius’ skull. Oliviera meets the pole with steel of his own, in the form of a chair, the resulting metal-on-metal clanging echoing out into the arena. Cathy grunts in disappointment that his strike had been blocked and swings for a second time, with the same result. The veteran Oliviera had managed to meet him blow for blow, his genius instincts helping him to avoid and early demise. The Hardcore Genius, not wanting to block another strike, jabs the Welshman with the end of the chair, causing the Tom-Cat to reel backward away from his nemesis, creating a little bit of breathing space between the pair. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
With the Godfather and Metal Dragon somewhat incapacitated, this has turned into a one on one battle between the enforcers. Heavyweight meets heavyweight!
~~Ray White~~
These two are quite evenly matched. Both are around the Two-Sixty pound mark, both rely on their power to push over opponents and both will stop at nothing to win.
~~Jimmy Pate~~
And with the weapons in free supply, there will be more blood spilt before this is over. Only one team is going to walk away from here. [/center] The extra space allows the Hardcore Genius to swing the tack-studded chair fully, and he brings it down over the point of the Welshman’s forehead with a clunk, before the Tom-Cat drops dejectedly to his knees. A second strike flattens the Welshman, the pole dropping from his grasp and skidding across the canvas. The defiant Tom-Cat reaches out desperately for the pole, but is stopped abruptly when Oliviera stomps on his outstretched hand, crushing his fingers under the sole of his shoe, a grin spreading over his lips at the crunching sound emanating from the floor. The Welshman does not scream nor does he so much as call out in pain, despite the searing agony pining through his fingers and up his extended arm. With his foot still clamping down on the Welshman, pinning him down in a vice grip that leaves the Hardcore Genius free to exert more pain on the Family’s Enforcer. Taking the folded chair, he drives it into the back of the Welshman’s neck in a stabbing motion, impacting just underneath the base of the skull. This time, a small yelp escapes the Welshman’s lips before he falls still and silent. Dropping the chair, Oliviera seizes the opportunity and rolls the lifeless Tom-Cat over before pulling him into a pin. As he hooks Cathy’s leg, the ref slides into position and begins to count the pin. “1…” The Welshman still does not flinch, Oliviera’s clutches holding him firmly. The ref’s hand slams into the mat a second time. “2…” This time the Tom-Cat stirs, his eyes shooting open moments before he kicks out of the pin. His shoulder lifts just an inch off the canvas, but it is enough to break the ref’s count. The resounding booing that emanates around the arena shows that Stone Orchard is still firmly in the crowd’s favouritism. Oliviera, at this point in time, couldn’t care less. He swats the Tom-Cat across the cheek with the back of his hand, as a low, chesty, disgusted grunt escapes him. The Hardcore Genius stands to his feet, his mind set on dishing out more punishment to the already battered Tom-Cat. Looking around, he sees a smattering of some of the more lethal weapons to ever grace a wrestling ring. Oliviera kicks afew smaller knives out of the way, having being thrown into the ring earlier by Cathy. The Hardcore Genius stoops down, placing his hand on a much larger blade. Before he can lift the blade off the mat, movement catches his attention out of the corner of his eyes. Hayden HardKore, free from the wreckage of the broken table, was standing, staring up into the ring at the remaining member of the Orchard. ~~Ray White~~
The Godfather lives!
I thought that sexy ass was gone for good.
~~Jimmy Pate~~
High risk equals high rewards Ray. Hayden is moving, but Metal Dragon is still looking worse for wear.
~~Ray White~~
Now, it appears, the Jackass has one Matthew Oliviera at the forefront of his hit list. [/center] Beckoning under the ring, Hayden mouths some inaudible orders at seemingly nothing in particular. Moments later, the bustling of a grey Fedora hat pops up from under the ring. Still with weapons strapped to his torso, Bobby the Lock-pick springs up and leaps into the ring. The Godfather follows the orphan into the ring, making sure the 11 year old is put in between himself and Oliviera. The pair advance on the big man, Hayden ripping off the duct-taped claw hammer from Bobby’s shirt as the Hardcore Genius stands to his feet, wielding a dangerously sharp looking hunting knife. Oliviera swipes the orphan kid out of the way, pushing Bobby to the mat and sliding him into one of the corner turnbuckles. Hayden lashes out as the orphan hits the ground, slamming the hammer into the knuckles of his opponent and causing him to drop the knife. A second swing from the hammer catches the Heavyweight Hardcore Genius across the jaw, spinning his head sideways before Oliviera spits a trail of crimson blood from his mouth. Smiling sadistically, Hayden advances on the heavyweight once more. With his jaw aching and his knuckles flattened from the impact of the claw hammer, Oliviera dodges a third strike from the brutal hardware weapon and grabs the Jackass by his Mafia leading wrist. Using his strength to his advantage, Oliviera forces Hayden’s own hand to drive the claw of the hammer into his forehead and carves a deep gauge underneath his hairline. Hayden fights back desperately, lifting the hammer off his face for a moment, but only to have it pushed back once more. This time, Oliviera cuts a deep gash that slices the length of his cheek from top to bottom. As the blood begins to flow, Hayden drops the hammer and backs away from the Hardcore Genius. The more powerful heavyweight closes in on the Jackass, balling his fists into powerful weapons. Hayden still backs away, bringing a hand up to his bloodied face to assess the damage. All that stands between the pair is a discarded steel chair, limited edition, complete with thumbtacks. Oliviera reaches down and unfolds the dented chair, so that it is seated firmly on all four legs. Not interested in playing games with the Godfather, Oliviera steps over the set up chair and wraps his own arms around the torso of Hayden, locking him into a Bear-Hug. Attemtping to squeeze the life out of Hayden, Oliviera locks Hayden’s head underneath his arm. Hayden groans in pain as his chest is compressed, not fully realising the impending impact that is about to follow. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
Oh, this looks familiar. Oliviera is going for the Magnum DDT. If he connects with this, this match could be over.
~~Ray White~~
That could re-arrange the beautiful face of Hayden HardKore, somebody has to stop him!
~~Jimmy Pate~~
To make matters worse for your man crush Ray, it looks like the Hardcore Genius is lining up Mr. HardKore for that thumbtack filled chair. This has bad news written all over it. [/center] Oliviera rocks the Jackass backward, flipping him so that Hayden’s head is driven into the seat of the chair, more thumbtacks being driven deep into Hayden’s forehead. Hayden bounces off the seat of the chair, falling backward onto the mat, his eyes shut tightly and his face torn into a look of complete agony. Hayden’s throat emits a gargled groan, as Oliviera’s full stop on the match is executed. The Magnum DDT, a chair and thumbtacks, what Orchard dreams are made of; and what Mafia bosses nightmares are capped off with. Once again, Oliviera is quick to slide in and cover the Jackass for the pin. The ref, in turn, once again slides in after the Hardcore Genius to count the pinfall. “1…” ~~Jimmy Pate~~
This could be it Ray. Nobody is about to kick out after something like that. Matthew Oliviera seems to have single handedly disposed of both Family members!
~~Ray White~~
Who knows, in three seconds the match is about to be over. When Metal Dragon wakes up, he is going to be crowned STILL tag-team champion, and he won’t have any idea! [/center] TBC SO OOC: For the Record, no... Kiwi is not a derogatory term. That's what I refer to myself as  |
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Post by M BISON on Jul 14, 2009 0:54:30 GMT -4
The corner of the referee's eye spots Bobby the Lockpick sliding into the ring.
2...
Before the official's hand can hit the mat the final time, the man in stripes receives a kick to the ribs. A multitude of slaps follow, distracting the referee in minimal pain but maximum annoyance. Oliveira releases the pinning hold, gets up to his knees, and looks at the orphan, who scurries back out of the ring to let the show go on. The Hardcore Genius covers Hayden again as the referee's attention goes back to the people actually competing in the match.
1...
2...
The Jackass kicks out, his godson's distraction having bought plenty of recovery time. An irritated Matthew grabs the Don's hair and begins pulling him up. As Hayden gets to his feet, he crouches and swings a fist up to strike Oliveira right between the legs, stunning and bending him over with a rush of agony. HardKore pops up and begins a surge of fists to the Canadian's head and face, sending Matt stumbling back. Thomas Cathy has now gotten to his feet and is walking toward the two other men. Hayden turns around and sees his enforcer approaching, then points at Matt in order to let the heavyweight take over. HardKore jumps out of the ring and then points at Bobby, the child rushing over to see the New Zealand native's hand being held out. The extended arm of the charging Tom-Cat connects with Oliveira's throat and sends the heavier tag champion out of the squared circle near the shopping cart. The Stone Orchard member lands near Hayden HardKore, the Jackass's finger being adorned with a gold ring while he watches Matt land on the floor.
JP: "The Hardcore Genius just got clotheslined out of the ring, and Hayden's about to make Matt kiss his ring! What disrespect!"
Ray: "Give me a break, Jimmy. This is showing that they're the superior tag team. People tend to earn egos, not just get them out of nowhere."
As Matthew Oliveira stares into space and Bobby the Orphan gets away from the combatants, a recovered Metal Dragon slithers around the ring. The Welshman goes out of the ring as a dazed and weakened MO rolls onto his stomach. Tom-Cat grabs the arms of his fellow heavyweight and holds him from behind. The ring then begins to come closer to Matt's face, finally touching his lips. Hayden's ring is only kissed for a split-second as The Genius's mouth opens and his teeth chomp down on the Jackass's finger. The Don screams in pain as Oliveira's teeth slide back and forth on his skin, Hayden finally being able to get his hand out of the predicament. Hayden HardKore turns around, holding his hand as Matthew's head swings back, the back of his skull knocking into Thomas Cathy's nose. Matt slides away and turns around, then sees Dragon approaching the Welshman from behind. MD snatches a kendo stick from the shopping cart and lifts it overhead, smacking the wood against the back of Thomas's head. The Cardiff Crusher staggers forward and immediately gets his head tucked under Oliveira's arm. Matt then grabs Tom's waist and lifts him up in the air before falling backward, making a picture-perfect Vertical Suplex plant Cathy into the floor.
"Vertical Suplex onto the concrete after a cane shot! Orchard is back in business!"
"Thomas just ate Dragon's wood! Just like that time I-"
"STOP."
Hayden has removed his ring and given it back to his young disciple, and is now rooting through the ring's underside for a weapon. As the Metallic One pursues his familiar foe, HH produces a trash can from under the apron and holds each side of it, ready to strike. Hayden raises the can overhead only for the kendo stick to be brought down low and lifted up, the weapon hitting Jackass in the genitalia and doubling him over. Oliveira makes his way closer to the two as Dragon lifts the shinai overhead. The Canadian grabs the kendo stick to stop his tag partner from swinging, then pats MD on the shoulder before slipping past him to stand in front of Hayden. Oliveira snatches the can from the Godfather's grasp and hands it to MD, then slides behind HardKore and grabs the NZ denizen's wrists. Dragon drops the kendo stick and grabs the can with both hands around the opening, then lifts it overhead and places it over Hayden's upper body. Now with the can slid down to Hayden's stomach, Oliveira shoves his smaller adversary into the crowd barricade and holds his hand out to MD. The Man of Golden Words hands the weapon to his tag partner, and Oliveira cocks the kendo stick back before unleashing a storm of cane shots to the trash can. The crowd cheers as Hayden gradually slides downward on the railing with each blow. A few seconds later, HardKore is finally in a sitting position. Thomas Cathy is pulling a table from under the ring as Matthew steps back. MD smirks as the Hardcore Genius charges from Hayden's side and lifts up a boot, smashing his foot into the trash can as the crowd erupts even louder than before. A "This Match Rules" chant soon follows as Matt's shoulders are patted by the multitude of front-row fans who like patting wrestlers' shoulders for some reason.
"KICK THE CAN!!! Listen to this crowd!"
"Thomas Cathy's got a table and is about to even this up!"
Thomas props up a table diagonally against the guardrail, then sneaks behind MD. TC reaches in between Dragon's legs and scoops him up, then spins around while holding him horizontally. Tom steps forward and explodes off of the floor into the air with a powerful jump, then leans forward in mid-air as he descends and MD crashes through a table for the second time tonight. An "OHHHHH" is voiced by the crowd as Tom-Cat gets up and turns around, then the two heavyweight brawlers prepare to face off again.
"Dragon just ate a Reverse Powerslam through the table! This is complete chaos!"
"The littler guys in this match are out of the equation now!"
The chant of "This is awesome!" is sounded through the arena in unanimous appreciation for the contest as Oliveira rolls into the ring. Tom-Cat walks to his leader and pulls the trash can off of the battered body of Hayden HardKore, then tosses it aside. The Welsh brawler makes his way to the shopping cart while Matt stretches his arms out into his crucifix pose, prompting the spectators' fanfare to strike up just as it was beginning to die down. Thomas chooses a small but dangerous weapon, a pizza cutter, then slides into the ring. As Tom-Cat gets to his feet on the mat, the larger half of the United Glory Champions charges with shinai in hand. Tom charges as well, ducking when the expected swing of the cane is made and swiping the pizza cutter across the side of Matt's abdomen as he passes. Ollie bends over in pain before being turned around, then the kendo stick is stripped from his grasp. The Tom-Cat then wraps his arm around the head of The Genius, trapping him in place while he pulls the back of Matt's shirt up to uncover his flesh. The pizza cutter's circular blade is then placed on the skin before being frantically moved up and down, Matthew fidgeting as his back is sliced up. After possibly the longest four seconds of Matthew's life, his head is then put between Cathy's legs and the Welshman's arms wrap around his torso. The Family's enforcer lifts his prey up and sits down, planting Oliveira's head into the canvas with a sick Piledriver. The crowd falls to a hush as Matt bounces off of the point of impact and lands on his back, allowing Thomas to crawl on top of him and hook his leg for a pinning attempt. The referee slides into place: 1... 2... Oliveira kicks out as the crowd goes into another frenzy of cheers.
"NO! I thought it was over!"
"The Street Fight continues, Ray! Nobody in this match is ready to call it quits!"
TBC The Family
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Post by Tamatoa Harikoa on Jul 15, 2009 20:00:27 GMT -4
Cathy tugs at a tuft of his hair with each hand as the realisation of his failed pin attempt sinks home. Shooting daggers from his cold blue eyes, he glares at the ref; who simply holds up two fingers with a shake of his head. With the ref meeting his gaze eye for eye, Cathy grunts in disapproval before standing up from his opponent to clear his head. The Welshman wipes a trail of blood-sweat mix off his forehead, his chest heaving heavily with each valuable breath that he manages to suck into his body. It is in these stages of the match that the endurance and athletic abilities of each of these men will come into play as to who will come out on top. Cathy scans around the ring and surrounding ringside momentarily for his boss, identifying briefly a lifeless hump of flesh crumpled against the crowd barricade as the Godfather, trashcan still lying idle, discarded mere feet away from the Jackass’ resting place. With the short amount of downtime taken giving him the time to recuperate, the relentless Welsh Enforcer turns his snarling, cold-hearted face back toward the downed Matthew Oliviera. With the Stone Orchard member beginning to show signs of life, stirring on the mat, the Welshman is quick to jump back into action. Scanning quickly amongst the litter and mess of discarded and broken weapons in the ring, nothing grabs his eye. Sensing the Enforcer’s intentions, the youngster Bobby attracts his attention by hurling a wooden baseball bat into the ring. Cathy smiles at the youngster, a chilling grin filled with evil intentions, but he lets the bat drop from his grasp, shaking his head slowly in disapproval. Pointing with a blood stained finger, the Welshman orders the lock-picking orphan around. Under the Enforcer’s guide, Bobby grabs the handle of a now very dented looking trash-can and flings it into the ring. The trashcan lands with a clang, rolling onto its own Godfather shaped dent, before Cathy can pick it up. Meanwhile, Oliviera, with eyes wide open, strains to claw his way to his knees. He uses the ropes on the side to drag himself up, desperately trying to stand on his own two feet; so much so that he does not see the shot coming. He feels it though, as the side of the trashcan is brought down over the back of his head, the Welshman hitting the Hardcore Genius from behind. Cathy follows the strike up with a second, flattening the Orchard member back into the mat again. This time Oliviera lies on his front, the trashcan draped across his lower back. Cathy leaves the heavyweight lying on the ground, staggering away across the ring toward the nearest turnbuckle. Every step seems laboured, the tell-tale signs of a hard fought match, every rung that he climbs up the turnbuckle seeming to take and eternity. Finally, Cathy stands towering over the ring from the top rope. With Matthew still not moving, he leaps, lining his target up perfectly. In true Tom-Cat style, the Welshman does no bother about frilly little twirls or aesthetically pleasing trickery in the air, he flies like a ton of bricks, aiming the soles of his giant feet directly at the trashcan that covers Oliviera like a sheet would cover a child upon being tucked in by its over-protective parents; knowing that one day it would grow up only to hate their guts for no other reason than the fact that the loved it so much. Cathy hits his target, stomping down upon the trashcan with all his might, the short flight coming to an abrupt and very painful end as the Trashcan further crumples and dents its way into the pizza-sliced back of the Hardcore Genius. The move receives another raucous round of booing aimed at the Family member, while Oliviera’s mouth simply opens in a silent cry of pain. In this moment, with the image blown up to jumbo proportions on the ButcherTron, the sound of silence had been heard so very loudly. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
Black Jesus Ghetto Stomp, right through the steel trashcan and connecting in a huge way with the already damaged Matthew Oliviera!
Thomas Cathy does not take to the air very often, and he’s not exactly flashy about it either. But he hits with the impact of a run-away goods truck. Heck! I can only imagine the pain searing through the Hardcore Geniuses body right now.
~~Ray White~~
That shot directed right to the lower back of Oliviera. You know, sometimes if I’m a little too rough, I can cause a bit of lower back pain, but nothing like that!
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Now hear me when I say this Ray…
I never want to hear any details like that slip from your lips ever again. Last thing I need is to be loosing sleep or waking up from nightmares because of it.
~~Ray White~~
Darling… Those aren’t nightmares. Nightmares don’t leave you with a hard-on when you wake up. [/center] Cathy, revelling in the momentum gained by the Ghetto Stomp through the trashcan, is quick to scramble to his feet. In the blink of an eye, he had unwrapped the bent and tattered can from the body of the Hardcore Genius, amidst a wave of pain-filled, blood curdling howls of agony that fill the air from Oliviera’s mouth. Still revelling in the pain he had caused his opponent, the Tom-Cat looks to further the agony, clutching into his grasp once more the long steel pole that he had discarded earlier. With the Hardcore Genius still lying on his back, Cathy approaches him once more, but instead of striking Oliviera with the pole as one would assume, he places the weapon sideways across his legs. The steel pole spans from the back of one leg to the other, bridging the gap between his knees. Before the Hardcore Genius can figure things out, Cathy had already stood on the back of his legs, on top of the steel pole on either side, driving it into the muscles and ligaments on the back of MO’s knees with the soles of his boots. Instinctively, Oliviera’s arms shoot backwards toward the source of the pain, but they are intercepted by another set of bloodstained Welsh hands that grab his wrists tightly. With the Hardcore Genius trapped on the mat, Cathy pulls back on the hands, lifting Matthew Oliviera’s torso off the canvas, stretching it into a Vertical Modified STF. Trying to wrench the Hardcore Genius’ arms out of their sockets, Cathy shifts his weight so that he is standing with one foot in the middle of the steel pole, the steel piping still allowing agonising pressure to be applied to the backs of both knees. The other foot is lifted to Olivera’s head, pushing down on his blood matted hair, while his arms pull in the opposite direction, tearing the larger Stone Orchard member in twain. As the Welshman’s hold is applied, the veteran Oliviera recognises the danger he is in. Though the pain tears through his body like wildfire, his neck and shoulders almost torn from each other by being dragged in opposite directions, he grits his teeth, defiantly stating that he is not ready to give in. Dropping to his side, the ref asks if he yields, but is met with a defiant groan in response. The veteran, searching for a way to break the hold or to even reverse the pressure onto the Tom-Cat knows that each second that he is in the hold is a second closer to Cathy picking up the win. He wrenches his hands, trying desperately to pull them from the Welshman’s iron grasp, but to no avail. Cathy has him held firm, squealing like a stuck pig in a butchers shop. ~~Ray White
Oh my giddy aunt!
That is a precarious position to find themselves in. The Tom-Cat is riding him like a pony. Lucky bastard!
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Aided by the use of that steel pole, Cathy had managed to target all four lims simultaneously with this hold. He traps the veteran Oliviera with the pole across the back of his knees, and then has his hands free to target Oliviera’s arms…
~~Ray White~~
A guy once did something similar to this on me. But he wasn’t targeting my arms with his free hands, let me assure you.
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Ray, every day you seem to cement your place as a sexual deviant just a little more. Lets keep our minds focused here. One thing is clear, this has got to hurt… A lot. If Oliviera is not careful, we could see new tag champions here! [/center] In a last ditch attempt at freedom, the Hardcore Genius tries once more to free one of his hands, groaning from the effort as he wriggles it away from Cathy’s clutches. All he heeds is a single hand free, and he puts it to good use, clamping down on Cathy’s other wrist, targeting a pressure point just above the wrist bone on his forearm. HE drives his thumb into the pressure point, barking for the Welshman to let go of his hand, until the Tom-Cat unwillingly obliges, the pressure point too much to bear. Cathy leans back to recuperate, out of the grasp of the Stone Orchard veteran, or so he thinks. In an unorthodox manoeuvre, Oliviera reaches up behind himself, pinpointing his attack perfectly. Simultaneously, each of Oliviera’s hands clamps down on one of Cathy’s nipples, the Orchard member twisting them a full 360°. Stunned by the strange reversal, and fearing for his nipples being ripped right off his body, Cathy staggers backwards, finally falling off the body of Oliviera. With the nipple-gripple turning Cathy’s pectorals into a purplish mess of bruises and welts, the Hardcore Genius forces himself to his feet. Although shaky and a little wobbly, Oliviera still has time to play to the crowd, holding his vice-like thumb and forefinger up into the air in celebration. Receiving a loud response from around the arena, Oliviera is content to continue, first uppercutting the advancing Tom-Cat to send him reeling into the ropes once more. What ensues is nothing short of a brawl, with the Tom-Cat backed into a corner, he simply decides to fight his way out. Oliviera, in no mood to be overrun again, meets the brawling Welshman blow for blow. Each fist landed by the Tom-Cat is followed up with an equally as strong fist by the Hardcore Genius. Each vicious boot followed up with an equally as brutal blow back. The pair brawl their way around the ring, using all of the space available. Unloved and abandoned weapons scatter as the pair approach, until the men are standing in the center of the ring, a cleared circle around them. Both are panting heavily, blood pouring out of different cuts, grazes and wounds across their body. The blood stained canvas is calling for one of them, the only question remaining is which one? With the energy quickly draining out of both heavyweights’ bodies, Cathy looks to close the deal with a bone crunching Headbutt that sends Oliviera reeling. The Hardcore Genius, not one to be outdone, staggers back toward Cathy and collides with the Tom-Cat in an equally painful looking and sounding Headbutt. It is the spark needed for the pair to break out in another brawl, this time a series of rapid and brutal Headbuts. Each one gains in vigour, the skull cracking sound reverberating around the arena. Both men, accustom to using Headbutts as a part of their offense, have developed iron-like skulls, each taking more of a pounding than thought humanly possible. When the crowd begin to cheer along with Oliviera, booing each blow landed by the relentless Welsh Enforcer, the Hardcore Genius decides to break the tension. His well trained hands come up to the Welshman’s face unannounced. Taking Cathy unawares, Oliviera rakes his eyes, blinding the Tom-Cat and causing the Enforcer to back away from the ensuing Iron-Skull Headbutt. Oliviera is only too pleased, and uses the opportunity to lift all 265lbs of the Tom-Cat up onto his shoulders, his face straining from the effort. As the Hardcore Genius stands, with his heavyweight opponent adorning his shoulders like a fur coat, he searches around the ring for a prime target to offload his unwanted goods. As the Orchards heavyweight decides, a familiar figure slinks into the ring behind him from across the far side of the squared circle. The Godfather, walking shakily, yet determinedly on wobbly legs, eyes up his opportunity… But he is too late. Without much further ado, Oliviera hits a Burning Hammer, tossing the Tom-Cat from his shoulders and driving him onto a mass of discarded weapons. A prison shank is driven into Cathy’s lower back, piercing the skin easily as is cuts through him like butter. The rest of his body lands atop the broken trashcan and afew other sharp and dangerous looking objects. The booming sound of Cathy’s large frame plummeting to hell echoes sickeningly around the arena. And if it were not for the approaching godfather, the crowd would have gotten out of their seats as a response. Still, Hayden HardKore’s presence in the ring keeps the fans planted on the edge of their seats. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
The battle of the Iron Skulls ends with Oliviera gaining the distinct advantage, destroying Cathy with a Burning Hammer!
~~Ray White~~
Yes, but he had to refer to dirty tactics to get the job done…
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Oh, come on Ray. This is a no holds barred Street Fight. Anything goes. Are you really telling me that there is some kind of etiquette in this match?
Oliviera’s celebrations might be short lived however, if Hayden HardKore has a say in the matter. His presence so far has gone unnoticed by the Hardcore Genius. [/center] Hayden picks up the Louisville Slugger, baseball bat that Bobby had thrown to the Tom-Cat earlier as he closes in on Oliviera and without warning, slams the Hardcore Genius across the already damaged back of the knee. Oliviera, taken by surprise can only watch as his knee buckles under him, the Godfather chopping him down like a mighty Rimu tree, till the big man is on his knees before the Godfather once again. With a sickenjing twinkle in his eyes and an almost loving smile on his face, Hayden strikes out again, this time across the shoulders. Hitting for a home-run, Hayden puts all of himself behind the swing, the result breaking the bat in two over Oliviera’s burden bearing shoulders. Needless to say, Oliviera goes down while Hayden stands staring at what remains of his bat, himself astonished by the power of the strike. Soon, his astonishment turns into a satisfied grin, as the Godfather stands towering over Oliviera’s bloodied carcass. Instead of rolling the Hardcore Genius over for a pin, Hayden calls in Bobby the Lockpick once again. The youngster comes, still armed to the teat with what is left of his torso-strapped weapons. Hayden beckons him closer, and rips off the duct tape containing the six pack of cheap “Miluakee’s Best” beer. Hayden cracks one open, taking a large gulp of the amber liquid, before spitting it out across the battered body of the Hardcore Genius in disgust. Hayden stares at the can, horrified by the torture his taste buds are enduring at present, before finding a much better use for the six-pack. Hayden takes the opened can, tipping out the rest of the contents over the pizza-sliced back of Oliviera. The pungent potion seeps into the wounds, causing Oliviera’s back to light up in pain like the Fourth of July. Having “downed” the first beer, Hayden calls for a second, this time slamming it into the back of Oliviera’s head as the Hardcore Genius lies incapacitated on the canvas. The assault continues, with Hayden cracking the second can, then the third, each time calling for “More beer” from Bobby. The youngster, eying up the beer for his own consumption is scalded by the Godfather only once, the Jackass using precious time to tell off the Lockpick instead of assaulting Oliviera. It is in this moment that Metal Dragon makes his reappearance. By the time the MD had gotten back into the ring, having shaken the cobwebs after meeting his second wooden resting place for the night, Hayden is onto his fourth of the six cans. Seeing the carnage before him, Metal Dragon takes a moment to realise that he had not woken up in a nightmare, but that this is in fact reality. Seeing his tag partner, covered in pungent smelling beer and cut to shreds, MD quickly determines that time is of the essence. He hops over the broken body of the Tom-Cat on his way to sideswiping the young Lockpick. With Bobby being quite a skinny, scrawny lad, it does not take much for Metal Dragon to shoulder charge him into the turnbuckle. Bobby collides head first with the corner, his hat flying off his head from the impact, releasing a bowl-cut of pristinely cleaned and combed blonde hair. As he falls back to the canvas again, a trail of blood trickles down his face from a cut opened up on his forehead. His face is still, as if in a deep sleep. Hayden calls for another beer, but when his demand is not met, he wheels around once more to tell the youngster off a second time. What he sees is not Bobby the Lockpick at all, but Metal Dragon, back from the grave and holding the remaining two cans, one in each hand. MD crashes the cans together like a cymbal, with the exception that Hayden’s ego filled head is in between them. A second, third and fourth crash from the beer-cymbals renders the Godfather flattened, lying across the body of Oliviera, while Metal Dragon is quick to toss the beer aside, not wanting to taste its contents (seeing as it is not Mountain Drew, he does not seem to want to know about it). Being the only one left in the match, Metal Dragon assesses the situation, before grabbing the Godfather by the scruff of his neck and hauling him to his feet once more to continue his assault. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
Metal Dragon is back, having quickly made short work of Hayden HardKore and the youngster Bobby the Lockpick. Still, this battle rages on. I have a feeling that it is going to take something spectacular in order to take away the victory here tonight. Neither of these teams are willing to loose.
~~Ray White~~
And they have so much history together that they all know each other’s offenses, with the exception of the young Thomas Cathy. The other three men are all considered legends of the business. Who knows what is around the corner.
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Ooh, I do… More pain, more suffering and more blood. Wouldn’t have it any other way! TBC SO |
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Post by MattOliveira on Jul 16, 2009 3:00:49 GMT -4
On the adjacent side of the EVPW battleground, Matthew rolls under the lowest ring rope and onto the apron, his back searing in pain from his nerves dancing on end -alcohol injesting every breath he takes from his body as he attempts to respire with beer-logged gouges to the back of him. He lies on his side, staring out towards the aisle and raises his left arm -wrapping his tape-covered and blood-stained hand around the rope to pull himself up. He hisses through his clenched teeth and tightened jaw as every movement he makes is dealt with in agony. As he sits, his body sends unwaivering jerks and convulsions from relapses of phantom pain surge through his nervous system. The Genius shoves himself off of the apron and lands firmly on his feet, unleashing the second sign of injury. His left leg crumbles underneath his Heavyweight body -quick to send out his hand in reflex as he catches himself on the apron to hold himself up. Matt leans against the edge of the ring, straightening up his body with his leg held in an obtuse angle to keep it off the ground, his face wincing as every cut, punch, and assault with a weapon come rushing forwards into his body. Surely the body is a temple, yet the Temple of Oliveira looks like a post-Gorbachev Berlin Wall.
The Amherstview Assault hobbles along the side of the ring while bearings are regained, and meets the ring steps as he begins to round the corner. He leans on the thick aluminum casting as he glances out before him, around the corner for what could await him...and like last time, what COULD minus him a few brain cells for the rest of his career -and his life. However, to both the surprise and mental disassembly to the Genius -whom to have seen everything and do most- his dark-toned eyes above a dark and shadowy complexion are drawn upon a body lying on the canvas. However, not just any body, but the body of the eleven year-old lockpick. A boy introduced to a career a next-step greater than theft, but violence for hire. To Bobby, brought in by Kahlan and taken under the strict wing of Hayden had been perhaps an opportunity for him to belong, but what didn't belong in his life was the blood trickling from a laceration atop his head. Unlike him, Oliveira shakes his head in pity, almost a given that the small lad would take a tumble somewhere amidst the chaotic atmopshere of the EVPW United Glory tag team match. Air whispers through the lungs of the Genius as he glares with tired and pain-struck eyes at the Lockpick, showing only the undulation of his coat as signs that he's indeed still in stable condition. Matt glances up into the ring as MD slams Hayden to the canvas, and his tag partner looks up from the corner of his eye to see The Genius staring back at him. The eldest of Stone Orchard beams into Dragon's eyes, and slowly shakes his head, lowering his vision back to Bobby. With that, the referee jogs on over to the corner of the ring where Matt loiters outside, scolding him to either get back into the ring or start a fight outside of it for the sake of the contest, his words falling on semi-deaf ears as Oliveira kicks in his selective hearing, still focused on the boy. The official continues his administrative banter until Matt coldly interjects…
Ref: “…there’s no count-outs, but you gotta get back to fighting, Oliveira. You can save the down-time for after the match, get the show on the ro-“
Matt: “Help the kid.”
Ref: “What was that?”
Matt: “HELP THE FUCKING KID, REF.”
Ref: “Who, that Bobby kid? Why do you care?”
Matt: “Why shouldn’t I care?! That fucking kid needs a medic! It takes ME to use common sense? Jesus Christ!”
Oliveira lowers his head as weakness clouds his ability to stand, leading him to cart himself onto the corner stairs to rest. The official glares at the back of Oliveira’s cranium as he draws in Matt’s frustration and with a wave of his hand he signals for the paramedic team to respond on the site. He takes a knee beside the boy, reaching into his breast pocket and removing a small towel which he places on the cut along Bobby’s hairline. MEANWHILE, after the mighty scoop slam of discipline dispersed from the Nashville Native, Metal Dragon jaunts across the ring towards the shopping cart parked aside the squared circle. Tom-Cat, resting on the adjacent bottom rope as crimson seeps in a moderate flow from his right oblique area from a haphazard fall onto a misplaced prison shank. The Welshman, a brute and stubborn as they come, pries himself up to his knees in a frantic and malicious manner –hell-bent on cutting off MD at the pass to his weaponry reserve.
Thomas crosses Dragon’s path, leading the Tennessean to a halt with flailing arms, nearly losing his balance from a weariness set on by his previous plague of headbutts leading to him reaching out and leaning against MD’s knee nonchalantly. The Orchard Stoner looks down at his rival almost uncomfortably as to say “what the hell are you up to?” Cathy snarls as his desperate maneuver dawns on him, it slowly washing from his face as he finds his shot in the dark firing blank. Thomas drops his head, losing confidence as he glances to the blank ring at either side of him, and peers back up at Metal Dragon with empty hands. Tom-Cat raises both hands, balling them into pointed-finger open fists and placing them under his chin. A nearby camera picks up a soft-to-hear “fuck you” as he annunciates the send-off-of-all-send-offs to his opponent towering over him. With MD distracted, Cathy quickly aims a jab between the man’s legs to crudely pound him in the sack, but to his dismay Dragon hobbles backward just in-time to keep his “CENTRAL NUT REGION” (right, Gnarff?) safe from a knuckle grazing. With this added space between them, MD bends his frame forward and shakes his head, raising both hands before him with palms facing inward and salutes the Welsh-Italian with a good ol’ double bird, equipped with rugged wrist-tape for the subtle aggressive effect, not to forget the same camera hearing a ‘No…fuck YOU” as his reply. With his thoughts are clearly conveyed to his one-man audience, Dragon lurches forward with a boot to Tom’s face, reeling Cathy onto his back as his hands clutch at the attacked area. Tom-Cat pounds his feet against the mat in pain with one hand pinching the bridge of his nose, ejecting himself from the ring in a flurry of disorientation. MD clear-mindedly completes his journey as he crouches down and reaches out between the trio of ropes to scrounge through the assortment of weaponry for something suitable for his tastes.
MEANWHILE, with medics now at the ringside area, Bobby is placed upon the gurney. Professionals and fans alike pay close attention as the strapping young lad is then placed on the stretcher with care, the officials cloth kept upon his wound. As pressure is admitted onto the laceration, the paramedics then make their way around the stairs which Oliveira perches on in fatigue. The Genius looks onward as the crew hustles up the aisle and begins to march past many a-fan leaning over the top of the railings. Applause seeps through the audience in support of the youngest person to ever take a bump in the EVPW Gymnasium is removed from the arena, Oliveira’s wholehearted wishes coming true as Bobby is off to receive the care he needs.
JP: “You can look at it as a Purple Heart for attention to health of a youth in line of battle, folks, or a Black Heart to hinder The Family’s weapon-reserve, but either way we know that at least ONE participant in this match HAS a heart.”
Ray: “You didn’t think so? I didn’t pay much attention in Biology…except for the procreation part…but I DO know that blood being shed from those guys needs to be pumped from something. You know what that something is, Jimmy? A heart.”
JP: “…you just LOVE killing my mood-setters, don’t you?”
Ray: “Meh, Stone Orchard would, too. And you like them, don’t ya?”
JP: “Orchard would also sit here and call you Rainbow Boy countless times…is THAT what you’d like? Huh?”
With the job done, Matt pries his six-foot-two self off of the stairs and attempts to stand unaided for a second time. Unsuccessful it leads the Genius straight to the gym floor, a crash heard as he tumbles against the guardrail with his hands quick to pinch the inside of his knee with pressure applied to the ligaments bruised within it. He groans with squinted eyes, aggravated at the scene of him in a vulnerable position. However, in light of the situation, an attacker is positioned out of sight and mind in relation to Oliveira as Hayden Hardkore coils himself behind Metal Dragon. MD, finally satisfied with the correct implement of destruction, returns to a vertical base. Unbeknownst to him, Hayden stands behind him with his patented Southpaw strike cocked, locked, and loaded. Dragon begins to turn and Hayden strikes, making contact. However, unfortunately the Don misinterpreted the placement of MD’s weapon when he attacked as Hardkore’s hand comes to a full-fledged stop against the crowbar Dragon retrieved from the cart with a resounding ding. He retracts his arm sharply and staggers backward, away from his absent-minded aggressor now stalking his tracks with the crowbar dangling freely from his hand. Hayden clutches at his hand held tightly at his stomach while he reaches the opposite turnbuckle, lifting his hand up in observance as it rests on the top turnbuckle pad. Vagrancies pass through his lips with greater speed than…something really fucking fast, fucking analogy…Hyper Elf, I dunno…as MD now takes position of the hunter.
Dragon strafes Hayden from the back and extends the crowbar over his opponent and doing like the Headache relief formula says so by applying the crowbar tip directly to Hardkore’s forehead. The JackDon (like GodKing, but not as blasphemous) releases a yelp of pain as MD begins grinding the crowbar across Hayden’s forehead, beginning to crumble to his knees in pain. The sharp steel corners strike shallow and aggravating gouges across the brow of the Don, sending the previous cuts dug along his flesh to be notched somewhat deeper as another shrouding of hemoglobin beings to flow freely down Hardkore’s face. MD continues his slow grinding of turning skin into chuck as the Don drops his arms, one of which slithering into his pocket unbeknownst to Dragon. Hayden is quick to drive his foot back in rebuttal to the stainless steel being driven into his cranium, stomping on Dragon’s boot which postpones his attack. The Don shuffles in his position and turns around, driving his fist across the cheek of the Nashviller and send him dropping dead to the canvas. Only after the smoke clears of Hayden’s dastardly deed as he raises his hand proudly, with it sporting brassknucks around the base of his fingers.
Ray: “Damn! MD’s out cold!”
JP: “Usually I’d complain right here, folks, but there’s just no rules to this fight. These guys wanted to take it to the streets, and well, that’s what we’re getting. Dragon’s been laid out from that brassknuckle shot.”
Indeed, one Robert Browne falls with a thud, his head concussed from a no-give close- fisted blow. As a camera peeks in between the ropes next to Hayden, he shows his hand that was previously struck by the crowbar showing no signs of broken bone whatsoever, meaning Hardkore had slipped on the Power of the Punch much earlier, incognito. With a grin on his face, Hayden slips the brassknucks into his pocket and strides across the ring, stepping over Dragon and bending down to grab his arm. Hardkore stands back up, dragging MD along the way as he staggers over to the corner, able to lift up the Deep-South DeathMetal Dealer enough so that he leans against the bottom and second turnbuckle pads –alike his conscious tag team counterpart, Oliveira. With gears a-spinning in his head, grabs the trash can beaten more than brownie batter in a boxing match (FUCK YEAR) and raises it high to a chorus of jeering. With a smirk of ego, he ascends the same turnbuckle MD leans against, facing outside the ring, and scales the top pad. Slowly, he returns to a vertical position with trash can held in front of him, and upon standing straight he contracts a deep breath. Hardkore exhales like a high-driver from Beijing 2008, except the red swimsuit is a trail of blood down his torso, and jumps backwards. For the second occasion, Hayden executes a moonsault, this one angled higher than before. He begins to swoop down only a few feet from the corner, and as his Converse begin to point towards the pads, he pushes the mangled aluminum cylinder before him so that upon completing rotation sandwiches the can between his two feet and…
*CRASH*
JP: “Holy shit! Bah gawd! Hayden just did…did…a 360 Can plant! We’ll call it that, a Can Plant!”
…Metal Dragon’s head.
Indeed, the can is piledriven into the skull of MD, whom most likely lacked the presence of mind or time of day to actually feel the force transmitted into his own face, but lets just say it was a pretty move and it obliterated the minds of many an onlooker. Yeah. That.
(I had a lot more planned, but this post took way too freakin’ long)
TBCB Hayden
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Post by M BISON on Jul 19, 2009 3:27:14 GMT -4
(OOC: Been 72 hours.)
Every human in attendance is on their feet after the “Can Plant“, surveying the wreckage inside the ring and inside the wrestlers’ bodies, the scene eliciting awe from all. As the two smaller men in the match rest in the ring, one to prepare for a pin and the other in hopes of regaining the ability to move, Oliveira gets up. The Canadian walks up to the ring barricade as fans greet him, slapping him on the shoulders, some telling him to go assist his tag partner. Matthew steps back and breathes in before shouting a simple instruction.
Matt: “I need a chair! Someone gimme a fucking chair!”
A few fans in the front get up and fold their chairs, others out of reach grab them as well. As Matthew Oliveira takes the first chair offered to him, he looks up to see a multitude of the objects flying through the air. Avoiding any harsh hits from the airborne furniture, Ollie rolls into the ring just as the Jackass musters up the strength to slide onto Metal Dragon, the official getting into position. The ref's hand hits the canvas simultaneously with Matt's steel chair smashing into the back of Hayden HardKore. The Godfather flinches before he is dragged backward by the ankle, separating the Kiwi from what appeared to be the last three seconds before he became a United Glory Champion. Hayden writhes for a short period of time, only for Matt to firmly grip his chair once more and swing mercilessly at HH's back for a second time, this time rendering his fellow former King of Deathmatches motionless. Oliveira then drops to his knees and grabs Hayden's right ankle with one hand, slightly unfolding the chair he holds before the foot slides through the gap between the headrest and seat. The top of the chair's seat clamps down on HardKore's ankle, the Don showing fear in his eyes. Matt stands up, then widens his base and wraps his arms around the chair. Hayden's leg is stretched up in an Ankle Lock, then the excruciating pain begins when Matt begins to pivot his body from side to side. The Jackass lets out a scream that possibly even warrants empathy from the fans… No, they actually start cheering. Metal Dragon slowly gets up, happily witnessing the dismantling of a man he’s defeated and been defeated by over the course of his career. Inside the minds of Stone Orchard, the jokers have taken a backseat to the sadists who dominated a whole company in the summer of 2008. Dragon gets to his feet and shoots glances at both of the challengers in this match.
MD: “I’ll take it from here.”
MD points at Thomas Cathy who stands outside the ring on the opposite side, Matt nodding and going to deal with the recovered Welshman while Dragon steps over the anguished Godfather. As the Tom-Cat sees Matt and steps back to prepare for an exchange of punches, MD climbs the turnbuckles in his side of the match. The crowd begins to cheer as they try to will Dragon on, adrenaline doing slightly more help with his ascent. Matt steps through the ropes and interlocks his fingers, then drops off of the apron while swinging a double axe handle down, but Thomas steps back and avoids it before immediately throwing a quick jab. The Man of Golden Words reaches the top, facing inside the ring, and wastes no time in jumping off. With his target locked, the Tennessean’s knees bend as he comes down, death from above taking the form of two kneecaps smashing into the chair that still holds Hayden’s ankle hostage.
“The Bad Touch onto that chair with Hayden‘s captive ankle! It might be shattered, for God‘s sake!”
“That is just wrong! He might not be able to walk after that!”
The body of one Hayden HardKore convulses, his mind almost blowing a gasket after experiencing such pain. Dragon lies on his side, holding his knees in mild pain and wearing a sadistic grin that only a few could match or outdo. The Jackass rolls out of the ring, one action he deemed imperative in his state, and uses the apron to slow his drop to the floor. On the other side of the match, the brawler from Cardiff releases a choke from Matt’s throat on the ring apron, then grabs his hair and runs toward the crowd wall. The former Imperial Champion throws the Genius headfirst into the steel barricade, then turns around and walks to the ring apron. TC lifts the apron up and quickly finds an old fan favorite: a water cooler jug on a stick, the jug wrapped in barbed wire. Cathy grips the stick that the innovative weapon is taped to and approaches the rejuvenating but groggy Matthew, who now faces the Tom-Cat. When in range, the weapon swings overhead and strikes Oliveira’s head with a low and hollow “THUNK” sound. The man from the land of the moose and maple tree is dazed from the blow, not even getting time to react when the jug is then placed on his face. The weapon is then kicked, viciously tearing barbed wire into Matt’s face. The crowd is then provoked to boo as Cathy frees his left hand and opens the fist, then draws it back and forth toward the chin and neck, directing a “Fuck you” at his tattered adversary. Tom grabs Matt’s hair with that same hand and drags the Canadian to his feet, then turns him in the direction of the ring. Oliveira is led to the squared circle and obliges to being thrown in as Thomas climbs onto the apron. Metal Dragon rolls out of the ring into the pile of chairs left earlier from the gracious spectators, and grabs one.
“Thomas Cathy is in control of Matt Oliveira after a few shots with that barbed wire-wrapped jug, and might be able to get this match back in Orchard’s favor while Hayden does… whatever he’s doing.”
“I think he‘s under the ring.”
After Dragon slides into the ring, Hayden HardKore finally emerges and makes his way to the chair pile. Unbeknownst to Stone Orchard, he begins unfolding chairs, some scheme forming in the brain behind all the blood that covers his visage. Thomas Cathy reaches the top of the corner and grips the top of the stick, as close to the water jug as possible. With the weapon, made famous in GHW Fans Bring The Weapons matches, next to his body, the Cardiff native jumps from his perch. Oliveira rolls out of the way just in time, making the 187 attempt end in a crash and burn onto the canvas as some of the barbed wire cuts Cathy’s side. Matt staggers to his feet and grabs the jug-on-a-stick, taking the weapon and stepping back to let his chair-wielding tag team partner fill in. The lighter half of Stone Orchard lets the wounded Tom-Cat get to all fours, then the Metallic One drops his chair on the canvas. The former Dragon’s Rage Champion grabs the lower right leg of Tom-Cat and pulls the heavyweight toward him, then throws the captive leg down. TC grimaces in pain as his knee connects with the chair, and MD lets Matt take over again. Dragon walks in the direction of Hayden HardKore, who has now set up six unfolded chairs into a pyramid. The Jackass puts another unfolded chair in front of the “Chairamid” and waits patiently for the Nashvillian to approach, which MD does. Meanwhile, looking down at Thomas Cathy, Matt’s eyes go wide as if he is suddenly possessed. The Hardcore Genius then proudly lifts the water cooler jug into the air and shouts.
“GENTLEMEN… I GIVE YOU… CLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYDE!”
The crowd cheers, segueing into a “Clyde” chant, the previously obscure name of the weapon now known to all watching. Oliveira lifts Clyde overhead and begins to swing wildly, decimating Tom-Cat with blow and blow from the water jug and its barbed wire garland. Hayden slides into the ring to meet MD, immediately receiving a quick jab to the face. The Jackass lives up to his name by responding with a cheap but legal poke to the eye, then he kicks Dragon in the stomach to double him over. Hayden grabs the waist and hair of Metal and throws him toward the ropes, MD grabbing the middle at the last possible moment to avoid ejection from the ring to instead land on the apron. Dragon sighs in relief before getting up with the aid of the ropes, seven unfolded chairs behind him that he wants no part of. Hayden quickly delivers another poke to MD’s eyes, warranting boos from the crowd that he ignores. The Don of EVPW’s mafia steps through the ropes and out of the ring, then climbs onto the lone chair that stands in front of the pyramid of steel. HardKore then wraps his arms around Dragon’s midsection from behind and uses a burst of strength to pull his fellow technician backward, performing a German Suplex that sends the Orchard member through the Chairamid with a crash. Despite the person who gained the upper hand with that move, the crowd goes wild for the carnage. An air horn goes off in the arena before a “Holy shit!” chant begins.
“GERMAN SUPLEX THROUGH THE CHAIR PYRAMID! Hayden just destroyed Dragon with that! There’s some revenge for The Bad Touch earlier! What a move, albeit after a couple pretty cheap eye pokes.”
“Hey, you said earlier that you can’t complain when stuff like that happens. This isn’t a wrestling match, Jimmy, this is indeed a Street Fight, and you can’t compete with mobsters in such a thing.”
Matthew Oliveira looks over to see what just happened. Thomas stirs behind the investigative Canadian, who is walking toward the carnage of the German Suplex in order to ensure that Hayden doesn‘t pull off a win while he‘s not looking, unaware that the now-unattended Welsh Warrior is getting up. Tom grabs the chair that his knee impacted earlier and pursues Oliveira, his target beginning to get near the ropes. A simple “Hey!” finally gets Matt’s attention back and he turns around just as the Enforcer throws the chair. The folded steel chair connects with Ollie’s face and knocks him back into the ropes, then Tom steps in front of Matt. Cathy snatches Clyde away and throws it to the side before wrapping his arms around the tag champ’s torso. Tom-Cat then uses power and technique to toss Matthew overhead while falling back, making MO somersault before his shoulders slam onto the canvas with a thud. Hayden HardKore has gotten up outside of the ring and walked to the shopping cart, and he grabs a staple gun from the plethora of weapons available. As the leader of the challenging tag team slides into the ring, Tom-Cat gets up and dusts his hands off in satisfaction from the Belly-to-Belly Suplex’s effectiveness, eliciting jeers from the crowd. Hayden clicks the staple gun twice, ejecting a small fraction of its contents, the sound putting a smile on the Godfather’s face. The New Zealander grabs Matt’s left leg and picks it up, then turns around, forcing MO to turn onto his stomach. HardKore tiptoes back with the bent-back leg of Matthew under his control in a Half Crab. Thomas Cathy steps back to the ropes for a breather while his boss looks at the staple gun once again. Hayden puts the gun against the flesh right under Ollie’s knee and presses the trigger, releasing a staple into the ACL of The Hardcore Genius. Matt screams in pain as the crowd gasp at the sick sight, not even getting time to finish their reaction before…
*CLICK*
Another staple enters the same area with more force, making the captive Canadian thrash about even more in increased agony. Hayden releases the hold and gets up, then walks around to Matthew’s head. Thomas makes his way to the fallen heavyweight as well, and the two challengers begin kicking the downed Ontario resident in a cocky manner, a display that receives the biggest collective boo of the night so far. The booing stops as Metal Dragon has now gotten up and wields a chair from the pile he landed in, the weary but tough-as-nails southerner rolling into the ring to a huge ovation. Tipped off by the cheers, the challengers turn around and see an armed and dangerous MD ready and willing to attack. Thomas Cathy charges at Dragon and stretches an arm out for a clothesline, but Dragon ducks. TC runs into the ropes as Metal turns around and delivers a quick but effective chair shot to Cathy's upper back. The Cardiff Crusher winces in pain and staggers back from the ropes, Hayden quickly covering Oliveira while Ollie's tag partner is distracted. 1... 2... The sly move doesn't pay off as Matt is able to get a shoulder up. Dragon tosses his chair out of the ring, then drops to the mat and sneaks an arm between Tom-Cat's legs. The Welshman trips over Metal Dragon and is rolled up into a pinning predicament. Hayden panics and rushes to his feet to rescue his partner.
1...
HH runs at MD while the count goes on, then jumps.
2...
The legs of the Jackass kick out a couple of feet above the mat, the soles of the Don's shoes landing an effective Dropkick into Dragon's head that breaks up the pinning predicament. Hayden begins stomping the stunned American as Thomas gets up and turns toward a recovering Oliveira. MD rolls under the ropes, but grabs the bottom one and starts to pull himself up. When halfway to a vertical base, Dragon throws a shoulder through the top and middle rope, hitting HH in the midsection and bending him over slightly. Dragon then stands up and reaches over the ropes with his left hand, wrapping that arm around Hayden's head, while the heavyweights trade punches on the other side of the ring. The former Dragon's Rage Champion reaches his other hand over the ropes to grab the Kiwi's waist before lifting up. When EVPW's Godfather is completely upside-down, his attacker lets go and quickly grabs the top rope for balance.
*CRASH*
MD is able to stay on the apron, but the Don has fallen off into the pile of chairs that still lay at ringside thanks to a Suplex. Cheers fill the arena as Dragon rests on the ropes for a moment, then steps back into the squared circle to assist his tag team partner. Matt has gained the advantage with a quick left-right to the face that sends the Tom-Cat back staggering... right into the waiting arms of Metal Dragon. The Man of Golden Words delivers a knee to the lower back of the Welsh brawler, then grabs the big man's left arm, twists it, and bends him sideways to the right. The flexible technician is able to lift his right leg over Tom's head to put even more security and pain into the hold. Finally, Metal Dragon completes the execution of an Octopus Stretch by grinding his left elbow into the Welshman's ribcage, putting some stress on the hold as Matt steps behind the Family's muscle. Oliveira looks left, then right before quickly kicking Thomas Cathy in the crotch from behind. The submission hold is then quickly and uncomfortably released by Metal as TC falls to the canvas in considerable pain.
"Doctor Octopus on Thomas Cathy! They could be close to retaining after that!"
"I doubt that a stretch for a few seconds and a kick to the balls is enough to do more than irritate the big guy right now. Besides, one good and quick shot to that knee of Oliveira's and the match is turned around instantly."
TBC The Family
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Post by Tamatoa Harikoa on Jul 19, 2009 6:56:43 GMT -4
As the heavyweight tumbles forward to the mat, the rampaging champions take time to banter up the crowd; Oliviera the one who eventually swoops down for the pin. His partner, the by now exhausted looking Metal Dragon goes off in search of “Clyde” once more, casting a punch-drunk mind back to retracing his steps as a mother would instruct a child in search of a lost toy. MD stammers about the ring, finger pursed to his lips contemplatively as the ref slides in to count the downfall of the Family. Three seconds away from cementing their place in the echelon of Tag-Team glory in EVPW once again, yet the outstretched palm of the ref seems to glide through the air in slow motion. Standing from their seats, the eager crowd chant along as the ref’s hand slaps the sweat coated, blood stained canvas. “One…”The large frame of Matthew Oliviera holds down the Tom-Cat, preventing the slippery Welshman from any form of movement that would aid his escape. With there being no rope-breaks in the contest, the fact that his head is hanging half out of the ring makes no overall difference to sway the ref’s decision. His only hope would be to power out of the hold, the bulky frame of the Hardcore Genius making sure that doesn’t happen. “Two…”As the ref’s hand slaps the canvas for a second time, the broken body of Hayden HardKore begins to stir amidst a sea of chairs. Once standing tall in a well set out pyramid, the mass of chairs now resembles more of a car wreck, the mess of twisted metal and body parts protruding from the wreckage. Clearly in no shape to assist his enforcer, the victory and retention seems eminent for the Orchard. “Thr…”As a gaggle of the crowd break into riotous celebration, thinking that the ref’s hand had just signalled the end of this gruelling match, the more observant members of the crowd hold back their premature celebration. The zebra clad official’s hand stops mere inches away from the canvas, mere milliseconds away from putting the Family in their place, but stops suddenly. Unsure as to why, Oliviera looks up at the official, his eyes burning a hole through the skull of the scrawny ref. Oliviera stands to his feet, eyeballing the ref in protest, but the ref continues to point at the battered carcass of Thomas Cathy. The Welshman, using the only strength he had left to muster in his young body, had managed to slide his shoulders out of the ring. Dangling in mid air, with his head drooping further down over the ring apron, Cathy had once again dodged the proverbial bullet. Trying to talk sense into the livid Hardcore Genius, the ref re-iterates that ‘Cathy’s shoulders must be pinned to the canvas for the pinfall to be counted’. Hanging out over mid-air, the crafty Welshman had managed to break the pinfall, without the strenuous effort of a kick-out. Visibly upset, Oliviera lashes out at the nearest venting post, the part of Cathy’s body that still remains in the ring. Holding onto the top rope, Oliviera proceeds to stomp all over Cathy’s body with both feet, before landing several rib-breaking punts to the Tom-Cat’s torso. The force of the Genius’ boots sends the Welshman toppling out of the ring to the lightly padded concrete outside, which he lands headfirst, his body awkwardly crumpling up like an accordion. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
Somehow, some-way… The Family is still in this. I thought that Stone Orchard had it for sure.
~~Ray White~~
This is a blood bath JP, pure and simple. This is only going to end when one team is unable to breath. Call the EMT’s, their assistance will be needed before the night is through.
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Again…
We have already seen Bobby the Orphan carted out of here. No update as to his situation as yet, but he is in the best of hands, I assure you. As for the Family, they are in the worst of hands right now.
~~Ray White~~
I don’t know JP. Metal Dragon and Oliviera are so rugged and manly, they could be in worse hands… [/center] Judging by the feedback that follows prior to a string of cursing that spills from Ray’s mouth, JP did not quite agree whole-heartedly with his sharply dressed broadcast partner. With the cameras still focusing on the action in the ring, the extent of Pate’s assault on Ray are not clear, but when the camera pans around the crowd, the distance created between the two is quite noticeable. The niceties gone, the gloves off; even the commentators look ready to throw down tonight. As the camera keeps panning around, it catches the sight of a large water-jug on a stick, the weapon being swung right in front of the lens of the camera itself. Its owner, a rather chuffed looking Metal Dragon half struts- half limps around to where he had left the Godfather, still struggling to free himself from the confines of his chair pyramid-prison. Lying afew yards away from the frustrated Mafia Boss, the Welsh Tom-Cat’s body is slumped across the floor like a bear-skin rug, his arms slightly outstretched and his legs slightly apart; much like a starfish. Metal Dragon sees his target and swings “Clyde” proudly, listening intently as the water-jug slaps satisfied into the exposed midriff of the Welsh Enforcer. Cathy lifts his head, his eyes shot wide open in pain from the shot, as a second strike follows, equally as painful as the first. Oliviera watches from in the ring, taking his time to wipe his blood covered brow and blinking the stinging crimson liquid away from his eyes once more. Seeing through a film of red, he continues, carefully escaping the ring and lumbering down to ringside to join his partner. The smile on the Hardcore Genius’ face can barely be seen shining through his crimson mask, the blood flowing freely over his face and into his mouth to stain his pearly whites a darker shade of pink. As he approaches the other side of the Tom-Cats body from his team mate, Metal Dragon drops “Clyde” to the ground, reading Oliviera’s mind. As one, they stand the incapacitated Welshman to his feet, Oliviera quickly pushing his head between his legs so that the Enforcer is completely doubled over. With a forced grunt, Oliviera snaps the Welshman into a Powerbomb position, lifting him high above his head in waiting for the Metallic one to put away his opponent. Metal Dragon spends the time to let out a sharp rooster’s ‘cock-a-doodle-doo’ before turning toward the Welshman, lifting his hands up to wrap the head and neck of the Tom-Cat into a Reverse Front Facelock, while MO still holds the Welsh street thug firmly in position. Knowing what comes next, the eager crowd rise to their feet, MD’s rooster-crow spurring the rowdy crowd into action once again. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
Stone Orchard are looking to put away the Tom-Cat for good now, and the hopes of the Family along with him. Oliviera calls for their patented “Rooster Driver”.
~~Ray White~~
This could be it!
Really, how much more can these men take? They are only human after all.
~~Jimmy Pate~~
That is not a wrestling ring underneath him either, its paper thinly padded concrete. This is not going to end prettily. As Orchard prepares to drive the Tom-Cat into the unforgiving ground, a small metallic object slams into the back of Oliviera’s knee. With the extra weight of the Tom-Cat on top of him, the big man looses his balance. By the time that the steel chair had clanged to the ground, Oliviera was already toppling backward, taking both Metal Dragon and the Tom-Cat with him. The three end up in a three-way dogpile, Oliviera on the bottom, the Welshman being the meat in a Stone Orchard sandwich. Standing off to the side, Hayden HardKore stands astride an arsenal of chaotically broken and twisted steel chairs. One chair is in his right hand, his left hand free and following the trail of its earlier hurled brother, now lying beside the man-pile of blood, sweat and broken bodies. Hayden casually steps over the remaining chairs, still holding an almost pristinely undamaged folded chair in his hands. Slowly, he walks over to the other three combatants, who (much to Ray’s disappointment) are in the process of untangling themselves from each other. Before Metal Dragon can even get to his feet, his skull is brandished with a heavy chair strike from behind him, sending him falling back over the Tom-Cat and Oliviera to a resting place on the floor behind them. As Metal Dragon clutches his head in an effort to rid him of the ringing that now reverberates through his brain, a red-faced Oliviera stands himself to his feet. Lining up the Jackass as his prime target, he swats the dazed Cathy out of his way, pushing the Welsh Mafia Enforcer into the crowd barricade once more. The Tom-Cat rebounds off the barricade, head first, before coming to rest up against the side wall, giving the fans at ringside a bit more of an up close and personal visit than they would be expecting. The Hardcore Genius, fuelled by anger at his best laid plans being foiled by a simple and cheeky well targeted chair toss ducks under an oncoming wild swinging chair and socks the Godfather in the guts with a tightly balled fist. Hayden drops the chair in reflex, the wind being blown out of his sails. Oliviera floors the Jackass with a second strike as he leans forward in an effort to suck more breath into his lungs; the Hardcore Genius clenches his fists together and clobbers the back of Hayden’s head with a Double Axe Handle. Hayden does not stay down for long, skittering away from the rampaging Oliviera as the Orchard member goes in for a third swing. The Jackass takes the short time given to refocus himself, before coming charging at MO and hitting him with a Running Knee Lift. The big man staggers backwards, struggling to stay upright while Hayden takes to the skies, or more accurately, the ring apron. He clambers up to the outside of the ring, grabbing a hold of the chain of his own safety blanket, his trusty Ball’n’Chain, still dangling tangled in the top ring rope. With little patience, the Godfather tugs at the chain, freeing it from the clutches of the rope. He had barely wrapped it around his hand before he leaps off the apron, spinning his body in mid air into a Corkscrew motion. The heavy steel ball catches the Hardcore Genius across the jaw, spurting a trail of blood out from between his teeth. With the added momentum gained from the Corkscrew rotation, the power of the ball takes Oliviera off his feet, sending him sprawling out across the floor. Hayden swings the weapon again, slamming the ball down and catching the Hardcore Genius in between the shoulder blades. With no sign of letting up, Oliviera does the best he can to defend himself, while waiting for the Jackass to create an opening. With blood still trickling out of the corner of his mouth, Oliviera prepares to weather the storm. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
Again, Hayden unleashes a flurry of abuse with that Ball-and-Chain flail. That could have broken Oliviera’s jaw or given him a concussion, who knows?
It doesn’t tickle anyway, that’s for sure.
~~Ray White~~
Sorry, what?
I was still thinking about that pile of man-love my eyes saw just before. Was I dreaming JP?
~~Jimmy Pate~~
If you were, you have pretty fucked up dreams. No Ray, this is real… All the blood, all the pain, all the desperation and all the glory. Very, very real. [/center] TBC SO OOC: my bad guys... new school term starting, work's been crazy, lets finish this in style! |
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