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 Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2015 3:03 pm
"The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first..."
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2015 10:47 pm
KSSSSSHHHHHHHHH...The lights go out as the sound of harsh noise fills the arena. The words DEATH STYLE appear on the Titantron, the only thing visible through the blackness. Recognizing the music, the fans in attendance begin to cheer as they await the arrival of Mad Dog. The lights come back up as finally Mad Dog steps onto the stage to loud cheers from the audience. He is wearing his usual attire - dirty cutoff jeans, elbow/knee pads, and boots. Visible scars cover his face and body - Mad Dog had been wrestling a particularly violent style for a long time. His long hair is already wet as it dangles in front of his face.  Walking down the ramp, Mad Dog touches hands with the ringside fans, but he is obviously not happy this evening. Despite the fact that he was 2-0 since his return to wrestling, the last show had not been kind to him. He had been given a tainted win in his match against Cartwright by staff member Russo and beaten down by Freakshow and his minions. Mad Dog needed to make a statement tonight before his match with Roberto Mendez on PPV. Introducing first... weighing in at 250 pounds, from the deep and dirty South, by way of Osaka, Japan... Mad Dog!Mad Dog makes his way up the ring steps and onto the apron. Tossing his hair back out of his face, Mad Dog takes a moment to look out at the crowd and soak in the cheers before hooking his elbows into the ropes and leaning back onto them to flip into the ring. Walking across the mat, Mad Dog climbs onto a turnbuckle and holds his arms out, palms open, and tilts his head backwards to make his Hardcore Messiah pose. Climbing down, Mad Dog grabs the top rope and pulls down forcefully, stomping the mat as he stretches his arms and back, waiting for his opponent to appear.
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Posted: Sun May 03, 2015 2:19 pm
The crowd begins to grow restless as Mad Dog sighs and looks at his wrist where a watch would be if he was wearing one. He turns and steps through the rings ropes, down the steps, and hops the guard rail into the front row as the crowd begins to cheer.
Commentator Guy: Where is Mad Dog going?
Commentator Troy: He must be leaving since his opponent hasn't shown up!
Beginning his climb up the arena steps, the crowd cheers as his image is projected onto the Titantron. Fans lean in to pat his back and mug at the camera as he makes his way upward. Mad Dog doesn't exit the arena, however. Instead he makes his way to the concession stand as fans cheer and allow him to bypass the line. As Mad Dog orders a cold beverage, fans lean in to take selfies with him. Now turning back towards the ring, Mad Dog walks back down the steps, 2 large and frosty beers in his hand.
Commentator Guy: Mad Dog just wanted a cold one!
Commentator Troy: ...Or two!
Plopping down into the front row, Mad Dog drinks his beer and casually bullshits with the fans around him.
"Ten bucks a pop, can you believe these arena prices?" Mad Dog conversates with the man sitting next to him. Finishing his first beer quickly, Mad Dog nods to a ringside employee who walks over to hand him a microphone.
"How y'all doing tonight, Omaha?" asks Mad Dog as the crowd cheers loudly.
"Since I've got all this free time, I figured I'd address what happened to me last week. As we all know, I was ambushed by Freakshow and his little cronies during a 'This Is Your Life' interview. I've got to say, I liked Mick Foley's better."
The fans pop in recognition of Mrs. Foley's baby boy.
"Not only that, but I was forced to destroy a beautiful work of art!" says Mad Dog, referencing the portrait that had been broken over the head of Freakshow. "A damn shame..."
Mad Dog takes another gulp of his brewsky.
"So needless to say I was MAD. Fuming. Completely pissed off. I wanted to get my hands on Freak TONIGHT."
The crowd cheers again - they would love to see Mad Dog destroy Freakshow.
"But as you heard at the beginning of this show, I will not be getting an opportunity at Freakshow tonight. Mr. Kelly King has decided that I will face Roberto Mendez at Spring in the Ring, and after I beat him THEN I can rip Freakshow's chapped and crusty lips off and staple them to his own a**."
The crowd pops again!
"So Roberto, I'd advise you to think about who you associate with here in the future because you picked the wrong team. You picked the losing team. And when I see you at Spring in the Ring I'm going to hurt you. Your 'High Pitched Hellfire' won't be as high pitched as your voice after I kick your little raisin balls all the way up into your chest and finish you with a Dog Pound. Freakshow, I know you're listening right now as well, so listen closely. I will end you. No one will be able to protect you. And I'm glad Salem Croft saved you from a close call in the jailhouse shower because your a** belongs to me."
The crowd cheers as Mad Dog tosses the microphone back to ring staff. Continuing to sip on his remaining beer, he sits in the front row and waits for his opponent...
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Posted: Sun May 03, 2015 4:45 pm
((Will edit to include avatars and entrance music))
The Habanera began to play through the arena, and in an instant, people began to sour. The man behind the muscle, Anton Heedon, stepped out from backstage, one hand behind his back, the other holding a microphone. His eye gleamed, thinking of the many ways to ruin Mad Dog's day.
"It seems...Mr...Mad Dog, is it? That you were, as always, misinformed," Anton began. "While it is indeed true that you will face Roberto at Spring in the Ring...there is another man that should be the focus of your concern this evening. You see...I have been tasked to...tenderize you...before your match with Roberto," he continued, being interrupted by a sea of boos. A few fans started jeering, "We'd love to see you get your clock rocked!"
Anton chuckled, delicately wiping sweat from his brow. "Naturally, Iwouldn't be your opponent. Your real opponent, however, has been undefeated since his debut, proving himself to be an intimidating threat in BBW. And as of this evening...a new member...of Midnight Marauders International...along with myself. We represent a new chapter in the Midnight Marauders legacy...one that takes no prisoners."
The chorus of boos continued even as Asimov began to play. Asimov walked from backstage, showing no emotion across his face...or at least the part that could be seen. Asimov turned to Anton, nodding, and proceeded down the ramp, Anton following suit. Asimov's eyes locked dead on to Mad Dog. Never had he competed with a well-known legend in the industry. However, he knew what needed to be done, in order to appease his boss.
Asimov climbed onto the apron, stepping over the top rope to enter the ring. Anton requested a chair be brought for him.
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Posted: Sun May 03, 2015 5:05 pm
Mad Dog smiles as Anton reveals himself and Asimov to be Midnight Marauders - an excellent opportunity to take out an associate of Freakshow.
"Hold this, I'll be back for it shortly." says Mad Dog to the man sitting next to him as he hands him his beer. Standing, Mad Dog grabs the chair he was sitting in and throws it into the ring to his opponent. Request granted. Grabbing another chair, Mad Dog hops the guard rail and slides under the bottom rope, holding his own chair up to Asimov as if ready to duel.
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Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 1:57 pm
((Should've clarified. XD Anton was requesting a chair for himself to sit in, but this will work just fine.))
As an attendant walked over to Anton, Asimov watched as the metal chair smacked against the mat. His eyes gleamed, a grin assumed to be forming under his mask. While Mad Dog was on the move, Asimov grabbed the chair. When Mad Dog slid into the ring, Asimov would channel his inner-butcher, attempting to tenderize Mad Dog's back by slamming the edge of the chair into Mad Dog's spine.
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Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 2:58 pm
As Mad Dog slides into the ring he is met with a painful steel chair to the back - SMACK.
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Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 3:38 pm
Asimov was in no mood for games. The bell had not even ring yet, and already he was having to work. Asimov would attempt to rain down shot after shot with the chair along Mad Dog's back.
Meanwhile, Anton was calmly looking on from his chair, lighting a cigar, taking a long drag...and blowing smile at a child in the audience.
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Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 3:58 pm
The crowd boos as Mad Dog is repeatedly hit in the back with a chair - 3, 4, 5 times. Ouch. An average wrestler might have given up at this point, but Mad Dog had made his name in the deathmatches; he was tough. Not tough enough to lie there and take more however, as Mad Dog rolls out of the ring to recover from the big man's assault, one hand on his aching back.
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Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 4:47 pm
Asimov moved like a machine, smacking the ring two times before realizing that Mad Dog was nowhere to be found where the chair was. Holding it up, the chair had bent considerably. Asimov attempted to throw the chair directly at Mad Dog while he was out of the ring, though his aim would likely mean he would miss.
Anton grinned, enjoying his cigar and the turn of events.
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Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 5:19 pm
As Mad Dog is outside the ring recovering, a chair flies by him, smacking against the guard rail. Close call. Approaching the barrier, Mad Dog takes the opportunity to grab his beer from the man holding it and take a big gulp - refreshing. Now feeling a little bit better, having had his drink, Mad Dog hands it back to the man to continue holding. Walking towards the seated Anton, Mad Dog swipes his cigar from his hand and takes a few puffs himself before giving it back to the possibly angry or confused manager.
"I need a smoke when I drink, you know how it is..." says Mad Dog as a ringside fans have a laugh.
Slapping his shoulders to get himself hyped up, Mad Dog quickly slides back into the ring and successfully makes it to his feet this time. Now it was down to business. Approaching Asimov, Mad Dog attempts a lockup.
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Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 5:33 pm
Anton simply shrugged; he had plenty more cigars, what was one puff? Anton simply nodded to Mad Dog. Much like with Big Mack, Anton was not intending to cause any sort of trouble. Simply to observe.
Asimov, meanwhile, was less than patient. Asimov accepted the lock-up, but would attempt to brute force Mad Dog into a turnbuckle.
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Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 6:36 pm
Mad Dog attempts to resist, pushing back, but the larger competitor successfully pushes him into the turnbuckle.
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Posted: Thu May 07, 2015 4:08 am
After being pushed into the turnbuckle, Mad Dog releases his grip on the lockup and ducks underneath. Transitioning behind Asimov, Mad Dog will attempt some big punches to the head when his opponent turns to face him.
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Posted: Thu May 07, 2015 8:27 am
Asimov took three hits to the head before being turned completely around. The resulting shots forced him to slump into the turnbuckle.
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