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 Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2014 9:29 pm
"The following contest is a Casket Match! In order to win this contest, one of the competitors must put their opponent in a casket and successfully close the lid! Introducing first..."
Weather: Humid, clear skies.
Wind: 3 mph.
Temperature: 95 degrees Fahrenheit.
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2014 10:07 am
"From New York, New York, representing the Midnight Marauders, weighing in tonight at 200 lbs, Freakshow!"
Niggaz with attitude
Niggaz with attitude
Niggaz with attitude
I'm coming straight outta compton--
When something happens in South Central Las Angeles
Nothing happens
It's just another ***** dead Cocaine is a hell of a drug. An absolutely feral looking Freakshow emerges from the curtain. While his inflamed eyes were shielded by a large pair of aviators, his complexion and movements told the whole story. Peering back over his shoulder, then towards the ring, he swaggers uneasily down the aisle. Shooting contemptuous glances towards the very, very unhappy looking audience at hand. Aside from the expected ravages Freaks hair had, in a his several weeks of paranoid isolation leading up to the match, been shaved off. The buzz ontop of his head and overall demeanor seemed to signify a return to form for the manager. That is to say, Freak had cracked.
Straight outta Compton, crazy ******** named Ice Cube
From the gang called Niggaz With Attitudes
When I'm called off, I got a sawed off
Squeeze the trigger, and bodies are hauled off
You too, boy, if ya ******** with me
The police are gonna hafta come and get me
The manager circumvents the casket at ringside. With a tongue hanging out the side of his mouth Freak struts across the ring apron loosely, before hooking an arm across the stop rope and swinging across. He puts his hands on top of his head then gyrates his hips, pointing to a questionably young audience member at hand. "This is for you baby!" He then proceeds to spit into the air and catch the saliva in his palm. He swings himself into the ring, wiping his hands off on the referee's shirt. "Gimme that kiddo-" Greedily he snatches the microphone away from the ring announcer. He disposes of his sunglasses, his face was blood red, he pants loudly.
"CROFT! You little s**t! I'm ending this tonight. You think you hold the cards huh? Well I gots a few things up my sleeves. I'm tired of you. I'm tired of your stupid face. I'm tired of seeing you on my tv in Malibu. I'm tired of driving my corvette and hearing about you on the radio. I'm tired of all these mental midgets chanting your name, over and over. Ya know, if I wasn't the guy I was I'd say it's enough to make me crazy. But that ain't me,"Freakshow sniffs hard. He shoots a few means, mean looks at some small kids chanting against him. What gave them the right? He wipes at his nose again with his taped on wrist, swallowing hard. "See- See, the difference, between a guy like me and a guy like you- It's real simple. Now when you get in the ring Croft, you're fine and good. But what makes me better is that I know that my job don't stop before and after the bell rings. I know how to negotiate. And negotiate, I did. Because if I lose this match, BBW will never see me again..."The Marauder pauses for uproarious applause. It takes a good thirty seconds for it to die down entirely. The fidgeting manager leans back into the mic, "But when the lid closes over Crofts head, when that light dies, so does his independence. Cause when I win the match, you, Salem Croft, work for me!-"
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Posted: Sat Aug 09, 2014 6:20 pm
No sooner had Freakshow stopped talking would Salem's music hit the PA system, bringing to life the BBW Faithful with the rousing rendition of "Country Boy" by Aaron Lewis. With the strum of the acoustic guitar and smooth tenor of the vocals, the man in question stepped out from behind the black curtain and onto the main stage. With a slow, steady stride, "The Copperhead" appeared at Solar Slam before the jam-packed audience, forearms and fists wrapped in his typical snake-print tape while his signature serpent microphone stretched out from his left hand to the floor and then a foot or two behind him. His right hand was occupied with trying to hold up his sack - his burlap sack, that was...strewn over his shoulder and squirming slightly with each step Salem took down the ramp, wasting no time to bring his microphone up and address his archrival before their long-awaited match."Y'know, Freak...I can't think of a better way to send you off." Salem said, agreeing with the seasoned scoundrel for perhaps the first time in their storied involvement with one another. "You've been a thorn in my side since I first won the BBW World Championship, and after getting tangled up in all these strings you've been pulling to keep me away from my rematch, I think it's time to cut the strings and bring about an end to this affair...send you out the same way I did Jarel."The crowd popped at Salem's mention of his first feud for the world title, which had ended with "The Dragon" Jarel Damone broken in the back of a hearse, his streak of Casket Match victories coming to an end at the hands of "The Copperhead". But had that not been enough, the explosive finale had seen Jarel presumably blown up when Salem stuck his wraps in the gas tank and lit them, allowing his enemy to rest in pieces, never to be heard from again. Was there going to be a repeat, tonight? Or would Salem be joining the ranks of MMI before Solar Slam was through?
Now at the ringside steps, Salem ascended the stairs and leveled his gaze on the coked-up curmudgeon that was twitching about on the mat, likely too doped up to even realize what it was he was asking. Nonetheless, a faint smile spread across Salem's lips as he leaned against the top cable with his microphone-carrying arm, lowering his other hand to set his sack on the apron's edge. At last, the fans were going to see the long-awaited rematch between Freakshow and Salem. Two icons of their respective generations, locking up one more time to settle the Bad Blood between them. But even though some surely questioned the motives behind Freak's sudden change in the stipulation, "The Copperhead" wasn't about to back down from a fight, leaning over the rope to smirk wickedly at the drugged delinquent."So...you wanna go out in a hearse? Fine by me. I'll be sure to give you the beating of your life, only THIS time there won't be any three-count, there won't be any rope breaks, there won't BE any questions, Freak...only answers. Only an end...to your precious career. So get ready to sober up quick, Freak - I'm about to put you in a corner and stomp out the 'Twelve Steps' on your punk a**!"Dropping the microphone, Salem ducked under the top rope and marched over towards Freakshow, chesting up to the veteran as fans across the open-air stadium chanted "B-B-W!" and "Cop-per-head!" in alternation. It seemed like fists could start swinging at any moment, and the official hadn't even rung the bell, yet!
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Posted: Sat Aug 09, 2014 9:02 pm
"Yeah, yeah, big fat talk pal," The twitchy veteran intones to himself as he steps up towards the opponent, feeling unusually ballsy in his deteriorated state of mind. He bumps up against his opponent, feeling particularly empowered in the heat of the sun, nearly every person in the arena chomping at the bit to see the veteran get his just deserts. As he came face to face with the Copperhead, the image told one story, Freaks words, audible to only Salem, told another. "You think your friends gunna do you any good?" The New Yorker asks in a low rasp, gesturing to the burlap sack. Sneering he squints at his opponent "I've got six of my boys on payroll in the back, right now. I snap my fingers, this goes from a match to a mugging,"
"Doesn't gotta be that way," The scarred up sports agent rubs his fingers together in signification of the root of all evil, money. "How's about it Croft. I'm giving you a choice kid, right now. Make it easy on yourself, huh? Don't be vain. Trust me, I know vanity. Take it from someone who knows better, pride only hurts, it never helps," Slowly, tentatively the ex-blonde extends his hand.
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Posted: Sun Aug 10, 2014 2:50 pm
Just as Freakshow extended his hand to seal Salem's fate, should the man have been tempted, a faint whirling sound filled the air. Many fans looked around to spot what it was, but few noticed the helicopter out in the distance. Didn't anyone tell the pilot this was a special event?!
"Excuuuuuuse me!" A familiar voice rang out through sound system as the titantron replaced the images of Freakshow and Croft; in their place was Matt Shanahan, standing in his trailer with a smug smirk on his face. "Hey, Freak! Long time, no see, buddy. I won't keep you long, but I couldn't help but hear you threatening Mr. Croft. Now, as you know personally, I'm a man about fair competition. As a result, I'm changing the stipulation of this match."
As he spoke, the whirling noise got louder and louder, filling the air and nearly overpowering the sound system. The helicopter must've been making its way over.
"Now, I almost just made some rule that no one Freakshow knows could interfere, but that didn't work out last time I tried to pull that shtick. We ended up having Ryan Killman make his debut in a disgraceful fashion. So! Instead... tonight's match will still be a Casket Match..."
As he stopped, the whirling reached a climax. Many fans looked up to see if the helicopter was going to pass over; it was not. Flashes began to fill the air as pictures were taken of the aircraft and its cargo.
"... But we're making sure no one gets in to interfere with this bout. Enjoy!"
As Shanahan finished and the feed cut off, the helicopter began to lower itself. What was its cargo? A massive Cell, and it was dropping it around the outside of the ring. Once it was set onto the ground, the helicopter unhitched the load and flew off, leaving Salem Croft and Freakshow alone in the Cell, with only caskets to accompany them. Tonight's added stipulation was that the match would also be a Hell in A Cell.
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Posted: Sun Aug 10, 2014 3:01 pm
The audience's cheering was reaching riotous decibels as the cage was lowered onto the ringside area, trapping Freakshow and Salem within it, only the referee to keep them company. "The Copperhead" couldn't help but chuckle at Matt's sudden change of stipulation, knowing that the deck was much more evenly stacked with a cell preventing Freak from leaving and his henchmen from interfering.
Unlike their first match a year ago, this time Salem and his nemesis wouldn't be running around the arena through a variety of rule changes...no, tonight was going to be simple. Blunt. To the point. Extreme rules - no tap-outs, no pinfalls, no escape. Someone was going into a casket. The only question was which man would put up enough fight to prevail. Tilting his head in amusement at Freak's still-extended hand, Salem would wait for the bell to break the silence before grasping the vile veteran's hand, looking to step back and heave the blonde-haired b*****d across the ring, into the ropes!
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Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2014 12:19 am
"Aw hell nah!"Freakshows eyes widen in panic. Matt Shanahan had jumped through unfathomable hoops with the express intent of ******** the manager over. His gaze breaks from his tormentor to his other tormentor. "Wait wait wait-" Towards the ropes the treacherous individual hurls. Upon hitting them he hooks both arms around the top to stop himself, bailing out of the ring almost reflexively. Upon hitting the floor he turns around to find himself face to face with the links. He turns back towards the ring and backs up against the wall, hands up defensively. "This is entrapment-" He pleads to the official:
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Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2014 3:46 pm
Salem was crouched like a wild animal about to pounce on its prey, but his snarl of excitement faded into slight disappointment as Freakshow caught himself on the ropes, struggling to get out of the ring and towards the steel cage surrounding them. Surprising no one, the leader of the Midnight Marauders was showcasing his greatest skill - talking bullshit when things didn't go his way. Unfortunately for him, Salem wanted a little less talk and a lot more action...which he sought to inject into the match by running towards the ropes and springboarding over them, hoping to heave himself at Freakshow and slam him against the steel links with a daring splash!
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Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2014 4:02 pm
Freakshow, in his haggling with the official, did not neglect Croft. As Salem made his mad dash for the ropes Freak sprung himself from off of the chain link fence to slip back into the ring just as the fan favorite found himself in transition from ring to ringside. Fortunately the timing of the veteran, far from last second, would allow the opposition a window of opportunity evade anything particularly calamitous. Once back in the ring the wiley veteran heads straight for the referee in the middle, grabbing him by the collar, either ordering or pleading-- "Lift it up!"
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Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2014 4:10 pm
Salem was sailing through the air towards Freak, but the coked-out creep managed to dodge the splash just in time! "The Copperhead", though, was no spring chicken, himself - despite being young, he was an ambitious athlete that was just as quick-witted as he was quick-footed. Thus, when Salem hit the side of the cage the first-ever BBW World Champion clung to the links, climbing up them like a tree snake while Freak argued with the ref inside the ring! The crowd was getting hyped up, cheering as Salem crawled eerily up the side of the steel cell until he was upside down, looking up to peer at Freak from above the squared circle!
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Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2014 4:17 pm
"Gimme the key. Gimme the <******** key-" The new yorker shakes the official violently. For all he knew the overzealous Croft had crashed and burned on the outside. "You don't have it?!" Red in the face Freakshow throws a paranoid glance over his shoulder, before turning back to the victim, "Then how-" He stops. Another sharp turn over his shoulder. Where was Croft? Left? Right? Up? Down? Wait. Up?
"What."
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Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2014 4:28 pm
Time for a photo op. Many in attendance had already gotten their cameras or phones at the ready for just such a thing, knowing that what came up must inevitably come back down. While Freak's head swiveled, Salem pushed off from the top of the cage, twisting in mid-air to try and land on Freak's shoulders in a seated senton intended to plant the pervacious, ponchy punk into the canvas! For just a second the arena was filled with stars as camera flashes bathed him on the way down!
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Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2014 4:33 pm
Freak, absorbed in bullying the zebra, didn't understand why or how Salem got where he was. All he understood was that wherever Salem was going to be next, be it near or on Freak, was a place that he wanted to avoid. Running purely on instinct the blonde tightens his grip around the referees shirt and throws himself backwards, negotiating his way out of Salems trajectory, replacing himself with a hapless neutral party.
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Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2014 4:40 pm
Unintentionally, Salem found himself landing square on the referee's shoulders, collapsing the official like an accordion down into the canvas! Freak was a b*****d, but this was just sick - dragging the poor ref into the fray, now motionless on the mat. "The Copperhead" bounced up to his feet almost immediately, reaching up to brush a hand anxiously through his hair as he looked down at the ref in disbelief, then at Freakshow with disgust. "You son of a b***h!" Salem shouted, fuming at his nemesis. "The <******** is your problem?!"
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Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2014 4:48 pm
The veteran hits the floor and moments later hears a satisfactory thud nearby. The zebra was out. Out for good it seemed. All of the young athletes weight sent crashing down on an untrained striped shirt. Oh what a shame it was, to be sure. Sitting right there on his a** in the middle of the ring, Freak glares up at his rival with smug defiance, choosing this time not to respond with words, but by clearing his throat and sending a saliva bullet straight at the rookie. As this happened the presence of securities and EMT's quickly became known a top the ramp.
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