|
|
Post by Tamatoa Harikoa on Oct 29, 2009 6:49:09 GMT -4
The Following Promo airs prior to the start of the match [/color] As the voice had been speaking, images from the past few months began to flood the screen. From the simple first meeting of the men, with the "true" Hayden HardKore clad in white, and the contrasting Godfather figure in a dark charcoal to the revelation of the impact of the Don's sordid past. As the hood is shifted from the real Hayden's head, exposing his identity, a single distorted chord is struck, a choir blaring over the top, singing non descript words in Italian. The shot superimposes on itself as the "white" Hayden's eyes glare into the camera, frozen in time for all to remember. The shot is taken over by a running clip of the "dark" Jackass' antics, from the devastation of homeless orphans to the beating of his former fiance, to the setting of Amanda's home on fire. As the horrific and condemning scenes are portrayed, the voice-over continues. ~~Voiceover~~
"When life as we know it is a fraud, who can we trust?
When all around is fake, how does one define real?
Inevitably, liars are found out and those hiding in the shadows will be found. Inevitably, one will need to fight for them self, standing up for what they believe. Who is out there that will take a stand for the good?" With the last line echoing around the arena like a pinball, the screen changes once more to shots from Hayden's earlier career. Here, he is hoisting a golden title high in the air, smile beaming from ear to ear. As ticker tape falls around him, his chest heaves heavily with satisfied breaths. In the background of the shot, playing simultaneously to the victory shot, images of the Jackass falling from dizzying heights, being set elite and being assaulted with various weapons echo as reminders of where the veteran had come from in his career. Soon after, the shot cuts to a rapidly changing contrast, firstly showing the Godfather briefly, walking down a Grey corridor, then the "white" Hayden HardKore, contrast in colour but walking down the same hallway. The shots flicker backward and forward between each other, slowly changing faster and faster until they are almost blurred together. As the shot occurs, the voice-over returns, the choir underneath now rising in fervor even further. ~~Voiceover~~
"Equinox...
The very time where the light of day and the darkness of night are represented equally. This Equinox, light and dark clash together, in a battle that could not be more balanced. Two men enter, One will leave... The scene fades to black as once again, the last line of the voice-over echoes around the arena, leaving a lasting impression in the minds of the capacity crowd who had gathered for the PPV.[/quote] As the scene fades out, "96 Quite Bitter Beings" by CKY echoes around the arena. The song plays through into the verse before any sign of life is seen from the entrance-way. The arena is constantly split, with one half draped in darkness, while the other is blinded by a purifyingly white light. Smoke fills the stage as the match is readied. The crowd, unsure of which wrestler is about to enter, remain ambivelant, with half the crowd preparing to cheer and the other half preparing their lungs for the damning sound of booing. "With my perceptions in a mix
Down twenty miles through the sticks
To the cloudy town of Hellview: Population 96
Excessive vacancy, well maybe
In the shadow of an eye
All the strangers pass right through
Where the rules just don't apply"As the verse plays, Lizzie Morna moves into center stage, readying herself to introduce the bizzare clash. Trying to hide her confusion with a fake smile, the attactive ring-announcer brings the mike to her lips, pursed and ready to speak. ~~Lizzie Morna~~
Ladies and gentlemen, the following is a Last Man Standing match.
No disqualifications, no holds barred, the match will continue until one competitor is unable to answer a ten count... [/center] As she continues and the verse plays through, the smoke across the stage had reached a peak. With much of the entranceway blocked, all that can be seen is a single figure entering from the far left of the entrance stage, not from behind the curtain as normal. The smoke hides him, appearing only as but a shadow against the huge Equinox backdrop. As the man waves the smoke away, the presence of a second figure becomes evident. This man, moving in sequence with the first, is entering from the far right hand side of the entrance stage. Both men move through the smoke with a silky smoothness, their eyes trained on the ring, their minds focused on what is about to transpire. As the smoke begins to clear, the diefferences and similarities between the men begin to become clear. The men are identical in sight, each one standing to the same height, each one with the same mannerisms about him, but that is where the similarities end. The man entering from the left is illuminated, flooded with light that reflects of his white cloak and pants. Underneath the shimmering white pants, solid white wrestling boots can be seen sneaking underneath the attire. The hood of his cloak is drawn over his face, hiding his identity. From the right, the man is wearing a charcoal Fedora and black denim pants. Although shirtless, he is still hidden in shadows, the darkness hiding his identity as much as the cloak had hidden the identity of the white-clad figure. As the song reaches a breakdown, the entire back of the stage erupts into a pyrotechnic explosion. White sparks shoot high into the sky, flooding over the ButcherTron and making a canopy over the entrance stage. As the explosion occurs, the darkness is replaced with light, and the hood from the cloak is removed by a white wrestling taped hand. For the first time, both men set eyes on each other. Like looking into an eerie mirror, both men stare back at carbon copies of themselves. If it were not for the contrasting attires, they would be impossible to tell apart. Staring at each other across the stage are not one but two Hayden HardKores. The polarised crowd do not know what to do, with an ambivelance of cheering and booing filling the air. Similarly, Lizzie Morna continues to introduce the match. ~~Lizzie Morna~~
Weighing in tonight at Two Hundred and Twelve Pounds, he is the Godfather of the Family, EVPW's own Mafia regiment. Former GHW Unified Champion and multiple time King of the Deathmatch Champion, Hayden HardKore!
And Weighing in tonight at Two Hundred and Twelve Pounds. He was revealed as the Hunting Past of the Godfather recently. The man who would call himself the "true" Hayden HardKore. Multiple time GHW New Age and Tag Team Champion and GHW legend, the former fiance of Amanda Hallsworth and the man known as the Jackass... Er... Hayden HardKore!
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Well, I must admit this Ray.
Of all the people I was expecting Hayden's Haunting Past to be, I was not expecting... Well... This!
~~Ray White~~
And how could you be JP?
This is like straight out of some sci-fi movie... Or one of my dreams. Not one, but TWO sexy Hayden HardKores battling it out. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!
~~Jimmy Pate~~
You sick puppy Ray.
I suppose it all makes sense now. Everything that has happened over the last few months, how the mysterious tormentor was able to stay ahead of Hayden. How Hayden tried to keep the ideneity a secret. The mysterious warnings of the poem left on the Godfather's desk.
Hindsight is 20/20... I should have known that the person Hayden fears most is, himself! [/center] The men stand frozen in time, their eyes locked on each other. Hayden the Godfather, his mind flooding with recent memories of his beating at the hands of his white-clad self on his last episode of WNG, narrows his glare somewhat, and is met with the same look in reply. As the pair continue to mirror themselves, the music continues to play. "At the fork turn left a store
But on the right stay free from sight
'Cause 96 quite bitter beings
Like to stack the bodies high
The only way to ever leave is
Overflooded by the storm
And entanglement in Hellview
Brings you fear in fifty forms
They've deleted all the tourists
At the bottom of the lake
And not one supports the cause
To leave the blood stay in the veins"As was bound to happen eventually, the men break eye contact for a moment, charging toward each other simultaneously. They meet directly in the center of the entrance stage, right at the top of the ramp. The Godfather dips to spear tackle his former self, catching the white Jackass around the mid section and driving him backward at a rate of knotts. The men tumble off the stage, down the side of the ramp and straight onto the concrete floor below. Still, the fight rages on, with little time given to recover, the white Hayden kicks the Godfather off himself, landing afew well placed kicks to the side of the Don's head before the charcoal covered mobster falls to the ground beside him. In time with each other, they clamber to their feet, both the white cloak and the charcoal Fedora now scattered about the entranceway seemingly randomly. Both men are left shirtless, wrists and hands heavily taped in expectation of an eventful match. And seeing as the match has not officially yet begun, it appears that their predictions would be well met... TBCB........ me |
|
|
|
Post by Tamatoa Harikoa on Nov 1, 2009 5:41:03 GMT -4
The divided crowd, still unsure what to make of the situation cheer out of sheer confusion and excitement as the two Haydens clash once more. This time is it the white Hayden who gets the upper hand, flinging the Godfather's body into the steel crowd barricade off to the side of the entrance ramp. The "good" Hayden follows up the Irish Whip with a high Roundhouse Kick that catches his nemesis on the side of the head, toppling the Don to the ground once more. The mobster backs away from his tormentor, bringing his hands up to his face, half-pleading, half shielding himself from any further blows as he backs away on all fours. The white-clad Jackass follows after the Don, a smile appearing on his face as he is patted on the shoulder by various crowd members that are close enough to the side of the entrance ramp to reach him. Slowly, the procession of Haydens plods on toward the ring. Having had enough of toying with the Godfather, the white Hayden lifts the Don to his feet, once again flinging him with an Irish Whip, this time across the entrance ramp. This time however, the Godfather reverses the whip, sending the Jackass sailing across the entranceway and slamming into the crowd barricade opposite. The white Hayden slams back first into the steel barrier, arching his back as the pain sears through his body, but is not left to rest for long before the Godfather slams into him with a Clothesline that threatens to send the Jackass sailing over the barricade and into the crowd. Hayden the White manages to keep his body on the ring-side of the barricade however, his feet soon returning to the ground as the Godfather backs up for another strike. The black-clad Hayden smirks as he dashes toward his nemesis for a second time, this time looking to knock his opponent out of the park. The white Hayden brings up a single foot to stop his doppelganger dead in his tracks. The Godfather runs head first into the raised boot, his legs buckling beneath him upon impact, before the White Jackass can take control. He grabs the denim clad Don by the seat of the pants, racing him toward the ring as fast as his legs will allow him. When he is close enough, he hurls the Godfather ring-ward, watching as the Don flips upside down and crashes shoulders first into the base of the ring, before crashing back to the lightly padded mats outside the ring. The Jackass looks on bemusedly, nodding in satisfaction as his revenge begins. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
As confusing as this match is to watch, I think it is even more confusing to call. How are we supposed to tell these two apart?
~~Ray White~~
I don't know JP. You're usually the one that comes up with the good ideas, I'm just here to look good.
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Budget constraints? They couldn't actually get somebody who looked good to start with?
Ahem, anyway. Well, interestingly enough, Hayden HardKore, the Godfather, never really referred to himself as "the Jackass" in EVPW.
The Hayden that we see before us dressed in white built his name as the Jackass and wore it with pride, so its only fair that we would call him "Jackass". Plus, it helps to tell the pain apart...
~~Ray White~~
This is something out of a science fiction novel JP, its hurting my head... Happy Halloween! Here's not one, but TWO Hayden HardKores! [/center] Once again, the Jackass lifts his mobster nemesis to his feet, this time taking care to slide him into the ring. He clambers up onto the apron, fueled by two years of anguish, and dashes across it till he is within striking distance of the Godfather once more. With that, he leaps onto the bottom rope, using it to springboard him into the air, and drops across the chest of the Godfather with a Springboard Leg Drop, before landing safely outside the ring once more. The Don, in turn, curls up on his side into the fetal position, his body rocking back and forward in an attempt to quell the pain. When Hayden finally slides into the ring, the anxiously waiting ref is able to call for the bell. Already, both men are panting heavily, both men have been battered and look at each other with hatred even as the bell sounds the start of the match. The ringing is still lingering in the air when the white Hayden plants his next attack, an uncaring kick to the ribs, catching the Don well on an exposed section of his body. The Godfather flails about from the toe-kick, the punt having found its mark well, but spurring the Godfather into action once more. The black-clad Hayden rolls out of harms way, taking to his feet once more in the process, so that the men meet head to head once more. As the Jackass dashes in to meet the Godfather once more, the Don flicks his hips, flipping the white Hayden to the mat with a hip toss that shakes the foundations of the ring. The downed Hayden is quick to his feet however, dashing into the ring ropes once more and careering back toward the Godfather again. The Don ducks out of the way of a short armed clothesline and watches as the white pants of his enemy scurry off to the ropes once more. On the rebound, the Don kicks out with a mule Kick that catches the Jackass on the chin, sending him into the air and lays him out flat on his back. This time, the White-clad Jackass does not scramble to his feet instantly, instead he lies flat on his back, looking up into the lights of the Solid Core Gymnasium wondering what had hit him. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
You will never find two men who measure up so... similarly than these two Ray. They are exactly the same in every way. Same height, same weight, same style. I really cannot see how this is ever going to end in anything but a draw!
~~Ray White~~
It'll be like the blue energiser bunny meets the red energiser bunny... Exciting to watch, but damned if you can predict who will outlast the other.
~~Jimmy Pate~~
And damned if you can predict what antics these two will get up to before this night is over! [/center] Before the ref can even begin counting, the Godfather had grasped a hold of his white panted namesake, hoisting him into the air so they are standing face to face. Slowly, he presses his thumbs into the wind pipe of the Jackass, cutting off the air supply to his brain. A familiar gasping sound results, as the White Hayden desperately tries to suck in air, but to no avail as the thumbs placed on his throat prove to be effective. With his opponent fading quickly, the Godfather lifts him up into the air, hands still clasped around the throat. The white pants of the Jackass dangle pointlessly in the air as he tries to kick his way out of the hold, but before he can do so, the Don had tossed him sideways into the turnbuckle. The Jackass slams into the padded steel corner before crashing into the mat once more from the force of the slam, his head bouncing off the canvas at an alarmingly brutal rate. The Don proceeds to flip off the front few rows of the crowd, who had begun to get in behind the White-Clad Hayden HardKore, willing the Jackass to fight back. Ignoring the requests of the fans, the Godfather drags his White doppelganger to his feet once more, planting him atop the turnbuckle precariously. He is quick to clamber after him, booting the Jackass in the chest and toppling him backward off the turnbuckle to the lightly padded concrete floor below. The Jackass lands just below the turnbuckle, awkwardly crumpling like an accordion upon impact. The Don is quick to follow, leaping off the turnbuckle with an elbow lined up to his opponent's sternum. The Elbow Drop lands squarely, rocking the body of the Jackass, who flails about on the ground like a dying fish before falling completely still, his chest heaving heavily as he tries to fight the pain that tears his body apart. His face is torn, screwed up into a ball as the Jackass winces from the pain. In turn, the Godfather stands to his feet, walking around in circles and clutching at his thigh, obviously damaged from the impact of the Elbow Drop. As the Don continues to walk off his own pain, the crowd boo loudly, every voice willing the White clad Jackass to stand once more and continue to take the fight to his mobster rival, a man who had taken the best years of his life, taken his hopes and dreams and replaced them with nightmares. ~~Ray White~~
I think it is moves like that that are going to set the tempo of tonight's clash JP. Hayden has always been known one that will do whatever it takes to procure a win, taking to the air is not strange ground by any stretch of the imagination.
~~Jimmy Pate~~
And with no count-outs and no rules, these guys could basically do anything to make sure that they beat themselves and their opponent up as much a humanly possible before this match is over.
They know the innermost workings of each other's game plans, the moves, the mannerisms, the mindset. I have a feeling that this will be a match for the record books! [/center] More to follow |
|
|
|
Post by Tamatoa Harikoa on Nov 3, 2009 3:27:45 GMT -4
The Godfather soon shakes off the limp he had developed after his Elbow Drop, turning his eyes once again upon the decimated clone laid out before him. The White Hayden clutches at his chest, rolling about on the ground in agony as he desperately tries to suck more air into his lungs. Before he is given a chance to recover, the White-Clad Jackass is grabbed by the shoulder and pulled to his feet once more. The Don straightens his opponent up, supporting his weight with his own body as the Jackass is slumped across his shoulder. The "good" Hayden's legs are like jelly, being of no use whatsoever in holding up his 212lb body. The Godfather, wanting to spur his opponent back into action, sends him for a brisk jog, whipping him away from the ring so that the Jackass crashes into the ringside crowd barricade with a clanging sound of flesh and bone meeting steel. The fans at ringside, delighted at the closeness of the action, scream for blood as the camera passes by, zooming in on the decimated Jackass. The Godfather soon follows up his Irish Whip with a Yakuza Kick, leading with a boot to the face of his namesake opponent, a kick to the chest following slightly behind it. The force of the brutal Yakuza kick sends the white panted Jackass into the air, teetering on the edge of the crowd barrier once again, threatening to fall in amongst the crowd. Fearing the action coming closer than anticipated, fans at ringside begin to scatter, so that they don't wind up with two Hayden HardKores landing on their laps momentarily. The white Hayden lands with both feet firmly on the ground once more, as the Godfather winds up for another pass. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
The Godfather is really taking the fight to his opponent tonight. He has alot to prove, and coming away with a win tonight is the only way he can prove it.
~~Ray White~~
Right. Its not every day that you get accused of being a fraud, and your entire career being built on a lie. Hayden the Godfather rode the coat tails of his opponent's early success. Now the only question that remains is who deserves to be here?
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Tonight Ray, we find our answer. And for the Jackass, it comes through two long years of waiting. [/center] The Godfather, feeling the adrenaline surge through his veins once more, lifts up the skirting of the ring, searching in the depths underneath the squared circle for something particular. As his dazed opponent tries to shake off the effects of the Godfather's onslaught, he retracts his hand. Clutched in his right hand is a solid black steel chair, and attached to the other end of the chair is a familiar sight. Sliding out from under the ring comes the youngster, the adopted son of the Godfather himself, "Bobby" the Lock-picking Orphan. The grimy eleven year old has a gleam in his eye as he produces a chair of his own. In tandem, they sidle up to the side of the Jackass, who still leans exhaustedly against the crowd barricade, clueless to the imminent danger despite the audible warnings of the crowd. The 'Don' raises the chair above his head, Bobby holding it out in front of him and thrusting the chair forward like a dagger. Bobby the Orphan drills the chair into the mid section of the battered Jackass, doubling the "original" HardKore over as the air is expelled from his lungs. The Godfather, seizing the opportunity, leaps into the air, swinging the chair above his head before slamming it across the back of his opponent's head. The white-clad Hayden falls flat to the ground, the extra leverage given to the Godfather by leaping into the air proving to be successful in expelling the maximum amount of impact from the chair. As Hayden pulls the chair away from his nemesis, the human-like shaped dent in the seat reveals the nature of the impact, as the white Jackass lies face down, his chest heaving with breath after painful breath. Like a bull terrier let loose in a school ground, Bobby raises his own chair again and proceeds to berate the fallen Jackass about the shoulders and neck with his own array of strikes, until he is dragged off the battered body of the Jackass by his adopted father. The Godfather calls the ref over, demanding that he begins counting the customary "10 Count", which the official is only too happy to oblige. He raises his hands into the air, keeping a careful watch on the Jackass to see any signs of life at all "1..." "2..." "3..." "4..." As the referee nears the mid-way point in the "10 count", the Jackass begins stirring, by the time he had reached the count of "6...", Hayden had lifted his head and was proceeding to push himself up onto his knees, before looking at dragging himself to his feet, using the crowd barricade as leverage. The Godfather, noticing that his opponent will undoubtably beat the count, dashes over toward him, dented chair still in hand, swinging wildly. Hayden ducks under the shot, watching as the Godfather's chair clangs into the steel barricade, sending shock-waves throughout the Don's hands and arms. Before the Godfather can retaliate once more, his hands had been pried from the cold steel of the chair, the weapon being firmly held in the possession of the Jackass, the "true" Hayden HardKore. His hands clutch the steel knowingly, the man no stranger to weaponry. The chair looks at home in his expert hands, glinting softly in the bright lights around the arena, while the Jackass lines up his weapon's first target. ~~Ray White~~
Hayden the Jackass snatched the chair away from his arch rival like a kid not sharing his toys at the sand-pit. Ooh, play nice boys!
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Both of these men have such experience wielding weapons and using them as an integral part of their offense. I'm just wondering how rusty the Jackass' skills will be after two years of waiting and rehabilitation.
~~Ray White~~
He looks comfortable holding it, but will the Jackass be able to go the extra mil and actually turn that weapon upon another human being, or has he gone soft over the years.
Personally, I like my men hard, nobody can do anything with a soft object...
~~Jimmy Pate~~
I'm guessing that we are not just talking about 'men' any more are we Ray. Your mind never does travel too far from the gutter. [/center] almost as an answer to Ray's question, the Jackass grits his teeth, a glint returning to his eye as he swings the chair. A feeling surges through his body, a feeling that he had not felt in over two years. As the chair slams into the forehead of the Godfather, his gritted teeth turn into a smile. The Don's legs give way underneath him from the chair shot, his body crumpling to the ground, before Hayden turns his attention to the youngster, Bobby, who had attempted to sneak behind him to attack the White-clad Jackass from behind. As Bobby swings his own chair once more, Hayden blocks his body with the steel chair in his own hands, listening as steel meets steel with a crash. Hayden holds firm, but the smaller framed Bobby staggers backward from the impact, backing away like a scalded dog as the Jackass glares at the sneaky orphan. Bobby drops his chair in the process, deciding it would be much safer across the other side of the arena while his father-figure is laid out at the feet of the look-alike. Hayden chuckles to himself as he watches the orphan flee the scene, his beaming and charismatic smile returning to his face after two years of hurt. He looks down at the Godfather, watches as he squirms away from the white boots that close in on him. Not getting far, the Godfather is hoisted to his feet, grabbed in a Collar and Elbow tie and led toward the entrance ramp once more. Heading for the unforgiving steel of the ramp itself, the Jackass winds his arm upwards, hitting the Godfather with an European Uppercut, that sends the Don staggering backward. The dazed staggering of his opponent leaves his opponent's body wide open. The white-clad Jackass capitalizes on the opportunity, wrapping the Godfather's head underneath his arm and rotating around into a Tornado DDT that drills the Don's head into the cold, hard steel of the entrance ramp. With a clang, the skull slams into the ramp, grinding along the surface until he comes to a halt, the Jackass stepping off his opponent once more. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
The steel of the entrance ramp hurts at the best of times, it is an unforgiving surface. But when your skull is almost driven through it, it becomes a whole new ball game. The White Hayden HardKore has really turned the momentum around on his twisted opponent...
~~Ray White~~
It seems that these two have lost all sense of direction completely. As this match goes on, they seem to be getting further and further away from the ring... This does not bode well for the chances of both men walking away from this match in one piece. [/center] Grabbing the Godfather by the wrist, Hayden drags his opponent along the ramp, up toward the Equinox backdrop once more. As he passes by the side of the ramp, various fans call out encouraging lines of support to the Jackass, the hype now turning to anticipation of what exactly the Jackass has in mind for his reeling opponent. By the time that the Godfather is conscious enough to even realize what is happening, his opponent has him standing once more, teetering precariously atop the front of the entrance stage, a six foot drop to the unpadded concrete below beside the ramp. The Godfather shakes off the effects of the earlier attack just as the Jackass' boots fly through the air at his head once more. With pinpoint accuracy, the white-clad Hayden launches his opponent off the front of the entrance stage, hitting a Dropsault that allows him to land on his own feet, while the Godfather crashes awkwardly into the concrete below. Giving his opponent no time to recover, he leaps into the air from the elevated position of the entrance stage. Hayden touches his feet with his hands while in mid-air, before landing across the torso of the Don, in a Frog-Splash, sending a message to his rival that he has not lost any of his swagger over the time he has been recovering. The passion burns in his eyes as he crawls off the battered carcass of the Godfather once more. His face screams of determination and the satisfaction of fulfilling two years of dreaming, two years of fantasizing, two years of pain. As quickly as he had appeared that first day he locked eyes on the Godfather, the white-clad Hayden disappears from view, slinking in below the entrance stage and fading into a mess of broadcast cables, cameras and backstage props. By the time his dark-attired opponent had woken once more, Hayden was nowhere to be seen. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
What in the hell?
Where did the Jackass go. He was on top of the match, then all of a sudden... Poof!
~~Ray White~~
Hey!
Who are you calling a poof? I prefer homosexual male, thank-you very much.
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Er, why am I surrounded by idiots?
Why god, why are you punishing me?
It makes sense Ray, maybe he just wanted to get away from you. I don't blame him either, hell, I might join him! [/center] "More to Follow" |
|
|
|
Post by Tamatoa Harikoa on Nov 6, 2009 21:04:23 GMT -4
The weary Godfather looks about him, his opponent nowhere to be seen. Surely he hadn't been knocked out and the match was over! Disorientated, he searches around. Fans still in their seats, still jeering and booing at him; still cheering for their Saviour, the White Hayden HardKore. No, the match was definitely still going. But his opponent... The Don staggers to his feet, narrowly dodging a half full can of coke that had been tossed in his direction by a fan intent on sharing his dislike of the Godfather with the man himself. Squinting, he looks around, hoping to find the Jackass had fallen and injured himself, but no success. Hayden slams his hand into the ground in frustration, knowing what he would do in the current situation. Moving slowly and methodically, the Godfather begins to make his way after his doppelganger, through a sea of broadcast cables, cameras and backstage props. Soon, he too disappears from view, sending the arena into an ambiance of turmoil. Chattering fans try desperately to piece together what is going on, while behind the scenes, orders are shouted through headsets to "follow the action" and "get a camera back there", all the while the chaos remaining oblivious to the capacity crowd. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
The match is still running, and we have no competitors. They appear to have left. Where to and why are any body's guess.
~~Ray White~~
Well, I am pretty sure that the Godfather left in search of his opponent. But why the Jackass left in the first place, who knows?
What the man has up his sleeve, I have no idea. [/center] Soon, a camera feed is shown on the ButcherTron, following the journey of the Godfather as he searches for his look-alike opponent. He passes through a maze of corridors, at each step searching in all directions for the missing man. He barges past a concession stand, sending both customers and merchandise scattering in all directions in the wake of his frustration. Soon, the Godfather comes to a T-Junction in the hallway. Stopping to think, he arms himself with a nearby plank of wood, grabbing it from a small pile sitting atop some packing crates before scanning the horizon. An innocent bystander is berated by the Godfather, frothing at the mouth as he shouts at the spaced out looking stage-hand. ~~The Godfather: Hayden HardKore~~
"Where did he go?
Which way did he go?" Judging by the blank look he receives in return from the stage hand, the Don comes to the conclusion that the man has no idea what he is talking about, deciding instead to continue searching himself. It is at this point that he is attacked from behind, the Jackass appearing from behind a hot-dog stand. The Jackass had put on an apron and hat, hiding his identity from view momentarily. With an amused look on his face, the Jackass had watched his opponent loosing his cool and chosen the opportunity to strike. The 2X4 falls out of the Godfather's hand as he is struck from behind, the white-clad Hayden HardKore slamming the mobster's head into the concrete wall. Before the Don can fall to the ground, he is caught by the Jackass once more, the hot-dog vendor's hat falling from his head through the motion of him running toward his opponent. Grabbing the Godfather by the scruff of his neck, the Jackass flings him down the corridor, watching with amusement as his opponent crashes into a second set of packing crates, before winding up lying flat out across the corridor. The White Hayden uses the opportunity, grabbing the 2X4 dropped by his mafia boss opponent and proceeding to bludgeon his torso with it. Hayden repeats the motion, attacking him three times before dropping the piece of wood and lifting the Godfather to his feet again. The Don moves along, barely supporting the weight of his own legs as he is lead down another corridor. The pair pass a sign labeled "Event Staff Parking ONLY", the pair of Haydens driving each other through the heavy door and spilling out into the parking lot. The Godfather, loosing the support of his opponent, falls to the ground, his body scraping along the asphalt while the Jackass regains his balance after the journey. The white-clad Jackass searches around him, surveying the scene. All around them, different types of vehicles are parked, for various different jobs. A group of innocent workers stand off to the side in a circle, each one with a cigarette hanging out of their mouths; beady eyes looking toward the source of their interruption. Hayden smiles as he dashes toward his nemesis once more, his white boot making a beeline for the Godfather's head. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
This brawl has spilt over into the parking lot!
My car is in there... They had better not scratch it.
~~Ray White~~
This is quickly getting out of hand JP. There is no room for error out there. It is all concrete, metal and bad memories. Somebody is not going to be walking away tonight! The Jackass' boot cracks into the exposed head, sending the Godfather spilling out onto the pavement once more. The Don, looking decidedly worse for wear, lays flat on his stomach, face down as his opponent wanders off once more, ducking in between two parked cars. The white-clad Hayden appears again before too long, wielding a tire iron in one hand. He pats it gently into the other, licking his lips in anticipation of his revenge. His eyes narrow on his target as he swings the tire iron, the metal cracking into the skull of the Godfather once more. He receives no reaction from the Godfather, who bares the blunt of the blow to the back of his head. The referee, who had followed the men throughout their journey, forces the white-panted Hayden away, deciding instead to begin counting the "10-Count" He had barely started raising his hand for the second count before the Jackass jumps in once more, not keen on waiting for the result. He grabs the Godfather by the head, yanking him to his feet and leading him across the parking lot. With a flick of his wrists, Hayden sends the Godfather sailing onto the hood of another car, his head and shoulder crashing into the windscreen, causing a large, human shaped crack across the width of the windscreen itself. The Don, face cut and bleeding from meeting the windscreen rolls off the hood of the car, crumpling to a heap at the front bumper before his opponent lifts him up once more. With a gleam in his eye, the Jackass lifts his opponent up onto his shoulder in an Oklahoma Slam position. Grunting, he tosses the Don forward, watching as his head bounces off the hood of the car once more, a smearing trail of blood marking the spot where he had made contact. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
I'm glad thats not my car! Does the insurance cover this?
~~Ray White~~
The Jackass is going to kill the Don if he's not careful!
This is two years worth of rage being unleashed upon his opponent right here. My god!
Look how deep that gash is on his forehead. He's going to need stitches for that.
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Two years of waiting, and now the REAL Hayden HardKore has his impostor at his mercy. [/center] Hayden bends forward, ready to lift the Godfather up a second time, but is met with a low blow that sends him reeling backward again. The Godfather staggers to his feet, looking through the red film of blood coating his eyes to find his opponent. Before the Jackass can react, he had lined him up and was mid stride, Spearing him across the concrete and into the side of another vehicle. The Jackass is driven with a boom into the large metal side of the arena's ambulance, the reverberation echoing throughout the parking lot, grabbing the attention of the smokers once more. Both men look worse for wear, blood dripping from the glass shard enforced gash on the Godfather's head, and the Jackass sucking air into his winded chest. He collapses to his knees momentarily, the Spear having given the Godfather the opportunity he needed, creating an opportunity to get back into the match. The Godfather grabs his opponent by the head, pulling at his well groomed hair before slamming him head first into the side of the ambulance once more. A third shot echoes out soon after, while the smoking workers decide in unison that the action is getting too close for comfort and clear out. The Godfather lifts his dazed opponent up onto his shoulders in a Samoan Drop position, before walking him toward the front of the ambulance. Returning the favor, the Don lines up the windscreen tossing his opponent forwards so that his body slams into the windscreen width ways. The Jackass bares the impact, creating a similar shatter mark to the car earlier, shards of glass sailing in all different directions while the Godfather shields his face from the wayward windscreen pieces. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
Backward and forward. Blow after blow. These two will not be content until they either tear this arena apart or tear each other apart in the process.
~~Ray White~~
The "impostor", the Godfather shows that he is not done fighting yet with that one. Now that he has the upper hand, things suddenly become scary.
The Godfather is well versed in achieving results through any means possible. In a match where that is allowed and anything goes, heaven only knows what is running through his twisted mind. [/center] More to follow... |
|
|
|
Post by Tamatoa Harikoa on Nov 8, 2009 5:50:06 GMT -4
The real Hayden HardKore's body flops to the floor, the glass from the ambulance's windscreen cutting into his flesh like a hot knife through butter. Desperately, he tries to claw away from the scene, his hands sliding along the floor through broken shards of glass. His pants, once bright white, are now a grubby mess of graying dirt and crimson blood that drips onto the material. The Godfather, not one known for showing mercy at the best of times, punts his opponent in the head, drilling the Jackass' head into the front grill of the vehicle before his nemesis falls lifeless to the pavement once again. The ruthless Don does not give the ref even the slightest chance to start his "10-Count", grabbing Hayden underneath his shoulder and lifting him to his feet. Broken fragments of glass slide of the Jackass' body like beads of water, his head bobbing around as if being moved around in a deep coma. The Godfather moves with purpose, moving across the parking lot to a destination only his mind can fathom. Moving to keep up, the camera crew bobs in behind the combatants, doing well to follow the action of the wayward match. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
The Don has that gleam in his eye, the kind you see when he is hatching some type of plan.
~~Ray White~~
Usually, I associate that kind of look with something else... A little more "R" Rated, if you catch my drift.
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Unfortunately Ray, your drift is not exactly subtle.
Hayden is well documented in referring to himself as a criminal mastermind. He hatched this elaborate plan, and the world bought it. I just fear what he has ticking over inside his brain right now. [/center] Across the parking lot, Hayden's destination soon becomes clear. Shimmering into view like a beacon of light in the darkness stands a metallic garage door. Being half way through the match card, and with people moving things backward and forward, the door is half open, rolled up to around head height. As soon as the Godfather spies the door, he launches his rival at it, the Jackass careering headlong toward the door. Before the dazed Jackass can react, it is too late. The open garage door catches him across the throat, his head and neck baring the entire brunt of the impact. The garage door Clothesline takes the white panted Hayden off his feet, he slams uncomfortably into the ground, his head again bouncing off the concrete. The Godfather, pleased with himself, stoops down to not meet the same fate as his lookalike opponent, a wide expansive corridor expanding around him, wide enough to drive vehicles through. The Godfather glances at the white painted concrete wall, looking up at a set of simple signs that point out directions of different areas from their location. The largest sign reads "RING"[/i] and points down the corridor, leading off into the distance. Afew feet in front of the sign, another set catches the Don's eye. Down a smaller passageway, an arrow-shaped sign points out several locations: "MEDICAL CENTER"; "MERCHANDISE AND SALES"; "BACKSTAGE"[/i] all are shown as being accessed by the small passageway. Naturally, the Godfather heads toward the small passageway, dragging his battered look-alike by the scruff of his neck in his wake. Giving the blood coated Jackass no time to recuperate, the Godfather soon drives him headfirst through another door, the passageway leading to a stairwell. Being that the parking lot is on the basement floor of the arena, the only way to go is up, with a small cage underneath the stairs containing various odds and ends including spare light fittings, mops and cleaning products. A simple laminated sign hands from the wire netting, reading "Janitor". The Don sizes up his opportunities, before eying up the staircase, no doubt leading to a destination that would tickle his fantasy. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
They are really taking us on a tour of the arena tonight. It appears that they have found the service entrance to the arena. That leads backstage, where no doubt there will be plenty of space to wreak havoc!
~~Ray White~~
They can wreak havoc in my dressing room, I don't mind. Heck, I could join them. We could have a pillow fight!
~~Jimmy Pate~~
I think these two have more than a pillow fight in mind Ray. The Godfather, intent on directing the match to his liking proceeds to drag his bleeding opponent up the staircase. He only gets afew steps before he is met with resistance, the Jackass holding onto the hand rail, a determined look filling his weathered and blood soaked face. The Jackass drags his mafia-boss doppelganger back down the stairs, planting a well directed knee to the temple as the Godfather falls down the remaining steps to the solid concrete ground once more. Dazed by the shot, the Don attempts to blink his blurred vision back into place, giving the Jackass time to explore his surroundings. Kicking the lock on the janitor's cage, the white-clad Hayden smashes the lock, the cage door swinging open in invitation. Hayden does not need to be asked twice, and dives right into the cage, his veteran hands gripping the best possible weapons that he can find. Moments later, he wheels out a round container holding spare light tube fittings for various uses around the arena. In his free hand, he weilds a red metallic toolbox, the contents of which clunk with every movement his arm makes. Seeing the his opponent had managed to find his feet once more, Hayden acts quickly, swinging the toolbox so that is crashes against the side of the Godfather's head. The Don takes a single step forward out of mere shock from the strike before collapsing over the first few steps of the stairwell. The force of the strike had cracked open the toolbox, the contents of which spill out over the floor with a variety of different clangs and clunks. The Jackass pulls out a claw hammer, wielding it in his left hand, before tossing the remaining contents in the general direction of the downed mobster. Again the toolbox crashes into the Godfather, this time driving its contents into his flesh. The Don lets out a yelp of pain as a screw driver glances off his head, narrowly missing his eye, before falling harmlessly to the ground, coming to rest against the wall of the stairwell. The Jackass eyes up his remaining weapons, a container full of light tubes and a claw hammer wielded in his expert hands. A smile spreads across his face as he pulls out his first light tube, tossing it over the recuperating body of his opponent. Following suit, he picks up the entire container, dumping the contents over the first few steps and over the struggling body of the once proud Godfather. Switching the claw hammer from his right to his left hand, Hayden winds his hand up above his head, a wild look in his eyes and bad intentions filling his mind. One thing will satisfy the Jackass, seeing his tormentor screaming and writhing in pain, crying for mercy and he appears determined to not stop until he gets what he desires. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
The true Hayden HardKore seizes his opportunity to make a difference in this match. Suddenly the Godfather appears to be reeling...
~~Ray White~~
Somewhere under there that is, he must be covered with thirty or more light tubes. Its amazing that the janitor would just have this stuff lying around!
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Well, those light tubes are about to become tiny memories of light tubes. When they shatter, they become dangerous. They cut deep and they don't make excuses. This is exactly what these two men don't need! [/center] |
|
|
|
Post by Tamatoa Harikoa on Nov 10, 2009 2:34:57 GMT -4
"*Smash*" [/size] The sound of shattered glass fills the air as an array of light tube pieces sails into the air before descending back to earth like arrows shot from an army of pixies. The Jackass retracts the claw hammer, swinging it a second time, aiming for the Godfather's glass covered head. A second unmistakable sound of breaking glass fills the air, as the arrows fly once more. By the time the glass has cleared enough for the Don to be seen, his upper body, face and hands are cut like ribbons, bleeding from a number of gashes where the glass had found its mark. With a grunt, the Jackass tosses the hammer aside, lifting his opponent up in a Fireman's carry instead before carting him up the stairs, leaving the mess behind him like a trail of breadcrumbs for the camera crew to follow hesitantly behind. The cameraman catches but a glimpse of the duo as they proceed to exit the stairwell in a flash of white and black clothing, the Jackass pushing his opponent through the door at the top to spill the fight back out into the arena itself. By the time that the camera had caught up with the pair, they were out of sight once more, the only clue as to where they had gotten to being the noise that billows down the hall. A clattering of metallic objects being thrown across a room or dropped to the floor, followed by a grunt of discomfort from one of the men and a shattering of glass grabs the attention both of the camera crew following the fight and the crowd around the arena. As the camera wheels round to the direction of the distraction, their destination becomes clear from the simple illuminated sign that reads "SOLID CORE MEDICAL CENTER" hanging above a white tiled section of the passageway. The shot jolts around as the camera is run toward the Medical Center, the doors bursting open as the pair of Hayden's brawl their way back into the corridor momentarily. The Godfather, wounds still seeping blood is tossed onto the white tiles of the hallway, smearing his crimson blood across the floor before staggering to his feet once more. As the Jackass follows him outside, the Don propels himself forward and drives his shoulder into the mid-section of the Jackass, driving him back through the doors and into the gymnasium's medical center once more. Inside, the center looks like a small tornado has ripped through its walls, with utensils strewn about the floor. A bedpan is flung through the air, slamming into a side wall before coming to land in amongst a pile of shattered glass, broken away from what appears to have been an X-Ray wall. Chest X-Rays still hang in limbo, waving in the evening air with no glass supporting glass behind them. The Godfather, chest heaving in exhaustion, claws his way to his feet using the bed as a crutch, and wraps his fist around the metal pole of an I-V drip. Sadistically, he smiles to himself, as the Jackass too forces himself to a vertical base. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
Now the two Haydens are playing Doctors... This has trouble written all over it!
~~Ray White~~
Ooh, can I volunteer to be the patient. I would let either one of the Haydens "operate" on me!
~~Jimmy Pate~~
As long as that operation involves castration Ray, I would be happy to let them. I don't want the danger of you ever pro-creating causing me to loose sleep at night. [/color] Hayden pants a bloodied hand onto his white pants, forcing himself to his weary feet once more. Grabbing a nearby crutch, he swings it around his head before looking to line up his mirror-image opponent. The Godfather, sickened smile still plastered across his face, proceeds to rip the tubing out of the I-V drip, the fluid spilling out onto the floor of the Medical Center as the tubes are strung between his two hands like a length of piano wire in a Mafia movie. His eyes twinkle with evil intentions as the Jackass' crutch is swung at his head, the Godfather ducking under the heavy blow with ease. Before the white-clad Jackass can gather himself for a second swing, the Godfather had leapt into action, approaching the Jackass from behind and looping the I-V tubing over the Jackass' head, tightening it around his throat. As Hayden gasps for air, his flailing arms drop the crutch, letting it fall with a clunk to the tiled floor beneath them. Slowly, the piano wire-like weapon cuts off the air supply to the Jackass' brain, the white panted Hayden gasping desperately for air as a result. Before long, the Godfather wrenches back on the tightening I-V tube, pulling the Jackass down to the ground mercilessly. By the time he had released his death grip on the Jackass, the Godfather could see a purple-red line around the throat of his suffocating opponent, the Jackass lying lifelessly on the Medical Center floor. For good measure, and before the ref can step in to begin his "10-count" once more, the Godfather picks up a nearby utensil tray, flicking the contents away without a second through and clutching the tray with both hands. The grin reappears on his face as he swings the tray, the metal clanging into his incapacitated opponent's skull with a cymbal-like clash. A second strike from the utensil tray and the tray itself warps slightly, beginning to bend to the shape of the Jackass' head, blood staining the once shiny metal, slinking into the nooks and crannies of the weapon before the Godfather tosses it aside. Calling the ref over, he orders the official to begin counting his battered and broken opponent, the floor of the Solid Core Medical Center a fitting resting place for the short lived return of the REAL Hayden HardKore. Nodding in approval, the referee does as he is told, raising a finger into the air to begin the "10-count". "1..." "2..." "3..." No life is shown by the white clad Hayden HardKore, the vein in his neck still throbbing gently as his bludgeoned body desperately tries to repair itself in time. His face remains soft and emotionless, as if in a deep sleep. The Godfather, content with his beating, encourages the referee to call faster so that he can get out earlier. Undeterred, the referee continues counting at his own pace. "4..." "5..." ~~Jimmy Pate~~
This could be it. The Jackass needs urgent medical attention by the looks of it, that thick purple mark stretching around his throat a warning sign of the internal damage his body has gone through.
~~Ray White~~
Well, if he is looking for medical attention, he has come to the right place... They are in the Medical Center after all!
~~Jimmy Pate~~
And they have torn the place from wall to wall. It looks like Tornado Hayden has struck again! This place is not in any shape to be dealing with injuries or medical cases tonight! "6..." "7..." "8..." Still, no sign of life from the Jackass, but as the ref raises his hands once more, the lights in the center suddenly flicker, then shut off entirely, plunging the entire place into darkness. The blackout only lasts ten seconds or so, but when the lights return, the white panted Hayden HardKore is standing on both feet, his dark-clad opponent rolling on his back amongst the broken glass, clutching a profusely bleeding head once more. The white teethed grin of the Jackass had returned to his face, smiling as he lifts his opponent to a vertical base once more. The confused crowd, not sure what had transpired during the blackout, roll with the new developments, cheering on the true HardKore, almost as desperate as the Jackass himself to see his revenge paid in full. Going on a journey once again, the Jackass whips his opponent back into the corridor, the Godfather crashing through another door and into a second stairwell. He collapses onto the bottom few steps, before desperately trying to claw away as the Jackass approaches. The Don is almost half way up the flight of steps before his opponent grabs his ankles, pulling him back into the clutches of the Jackass. When the pair reach the landing, the Jackass had gained the upper hand of the bout, kicking open the door at the top of the stairwell and booting his opponent through the open doorway. The Godfather, reeling backward uncontrollably, falls out of the stairway landing and back into the arena concourse again. Suddenly, the cheering from the fans appears louder, the heckles and cries becoming clearer. As the Jackass steps out of the stairway himself, he finds himself face to face with a gathered crowd. Hanging above their heads reads a sign, waving in the breeze: "A-F: Rows 50-100"[/i]. Ahead of them, several passageways span around in a circular motion, each with a different letter in front of them. Directly in front of the brawling Haydens, the passageway "E" stands, beckoning them forward, its contents hidden from view. ~~Ray White~~
Where the heck are they now? And who are all those people?
~~Jimmy Pate~~
Those people are fans, each paying their hard earned cash to buy Equinox tickets. I believe they have found their way to the Solid Core Gymnasium Concourse!
Aisle "E", brace yourself, I believe you are about to get more than you bargained for! [/center] Indeed, the smarts of Jimmy Pate become evident once again, as the brawl naturally attracts itself toward the open passageway, the crowd of fans that had gathered gowning in number with every waking second. An unsuspecting fan, balancing a hot-dog in each hand and a pottle of hot chips underneath each arm is swept aside, his head slamming into the concrete wall, just beside the giant "E" that is painted on the wall. In a mess of hotdog, chip and body parts, the man crumples to a heap on the floor, as the fight rages on past him. Before long, large burly men in shirts labeled "SECURITY" push their way through the crowd, creating a moving perimeter around the fight, as it spills out into the upper reaches of the arena. The cameras around the arena are quick to pick up the action, a far shot showing where the men had entered the arena, near the top of the stands. Below them, the seating stretches around the arena, in two tiers. The Godfather is tossed into the barrier at the front of the top tier, dangling precariously over the waiting floor below. Panning out, the camera shows about a 10-15ft drop to the flat floor below, the fans in the area being ushered aside by more burly security guards. As much as possible, the steel chairs of the lower deck are swept aside, the merchandising table that had been set up underneath the drop now devoid of its staff, who had fled to safer ground. Thankfully, the Godfather pulls himself back onto solid ground, fighting back against the white-panted Jackass, before the pair lock each other up once more in a collar and elbow tie-up. The pair throw themselves around, tripping down stairs as they come dangerously close to the front railing of the upper tier once more. The Godfather grabs his opponent by the back of the head, slamming the Jackass' skull into the metal railing. As the skull bounces off the railing, he winds up his left fist, right behind his back, before unloading with a vicious left Haymaker, aimed at the skull of his lookalike opponent. The white-panted Jackass ducks just in time, "Don" Hayden's fist sailing harmlessly through the air, but exposing his body once more. The Jackass takes advantage of the small opening and kicking out with a shot to the ribs. The kick staggers his mafia-leading opponent, who staggers backwards one step before he meets the fate that he was trying to enforce himself. The Jackass winds his own left fist behind his back and rips a wild Haymaker, this time catching the Godfather across the cheek. A mixture of blood and spittle is expelled from the Godfather's lips as the vicious punch lands. The black-clad Don is spun around by the force of the Power of the South-Paw, coming to rest with his back against the guard railing again. His eyes, half closed, scream in pain, threatening to close entirely. Noticing his opponents precarious position, memories flood back into the mind of the Jackass. He remembers all the things that he had lost over the past two years. The life he had, the life that was taken away from him. With the Godfather at his mercy, Hayden narrows his eyes, looking on at the man with hatred. Shaking his head slowly, Hayden makes his way over to the impostor once more. ~~Jimmy Pate~~
Good god almighty. That is a huge drop!
The Godfather is at his mercy now. I just pray that the Jackass shows more heart than was shown to him.
~~Ray White~~
That was about the biggest Power of the South-Paw I have ever seen! JP, hold me, that look in his eyes scares me...
~~Jimmy Pate~~
That, Ray, is the picture of revenge. Not pretty, is it? [/center] Closing his eyes as if to shy away from his hurtful past, Hayden dashes toward the Godfather, slamming his arm across his neck with a clothesline, forceful enough to take the head off a bronze statue. The Godfather, already on dream street, is hit by the full brunt of the shot, flipping backward over the railing. Before he falls, he reaches out in vain, grabbing the hem of the Jackass' pants. Instinctively, he clutches at the pants of the real Hayden HardKore, pulling him into the fall also. Soon, Hayden HardKore topples over the guard railing, and both men plummet toward the hard concrete below. "*Smash*" [/size] Both men crash through the merchandising table below them, amidst the shocked cries of the fans around the arena. The camera closes in on both men, tangled in a train-wreck of t-shirts, caps, broken wood and broken bodies. With a white, shock filled face, the ref peers over the railing from above. He sees the remains of a brawl between good and evil. He sees the battered, broken and lifeless bodies of two men. Like yin and yang, their legs are entwined together, an array of dusty, ripped black denim and shiny, blood stained white material. Before long, the ref reaches the scene, taking the safer route down the stairs to the ground level. Amids the wreckage, he solemnly begins the standing "10-count", the shocked crowd around him falling deathly silent as the official continues his job. Fans around the arena that cannot see the action close up cheer in appreciation for both men pouring their bodies into the match. A hearty cry of "Holy shit... Holy shit..." erupts from scattered places around the arena, the chant building strength with each round as the ref continues to count. "1..." "2..." "3..." "4..." |
|
