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 Posted: Tue Jun 13, 2023 6:16 am
!BREAKING NEWS! ...Flashed across the screen, a dazzling blue and silver background scrolling behind the letters. Underlines and other symbols flying around all willy nilly as the scene changed to a news woman wearing a spectacular grey suit at a stereotypical news podium. She had gorgeous blonde hair, a requirement for the position, and a smile faker then Jumex's rise to fame. In back ground was a green screen TV ready to present all of the fun and wild news and a logo of K-RAB TV. Her name was liv Snarks, the liv was always in under case, in all scenarios. She was known for hard hitting and accurate news, and passionately only occupied her self with things she classified as real. She began to speak as her smile took a very serious transformation to a stern and important look. "Tonight we have a very concerning topic to discuss. The recent Prison Escapee and Federal Criminal known as Blackjack was reportedly spotted making an appearance at a recent WWF:G Show in the United States. There is video evidence of him showing up to attack a former co-worker at one of these professional entertainment performances during a ring maintenance break. Investigators have concluded that the former wrestler was not initially to be apart of the show and WWF:G and affiliates have no official word on how he was able to show up and be such a theatrical part of the show. Immediately after the incident he was no longer on the premises and the hunt continues! Further reports indicate that there was in fact injuries and damage to the victims, but to what degree is unclear as of now."All of her statements were very articulate and clean cut as she read off of the teleprompter. The seriousness of the situation echoing through while also lacking all forms of sincerity possible. She continued, cupping her hands together. "We would like to warn you, what we are about to show of the footage recovered can be classified as disturbing. Continue watching at your own risk..."She trailed off as ... !BREAKING NEWS! ...Ruptured across the screen again before showing the post match video footage of Dean Johnson vs Better Than You. at Judgement Day
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Posted: Tue Jun 13, 2023 6:18 am
The crowd roared continuously as the lights came on after Better Than You left the arena. The match was a wild, and quick bloody affair. Even though Dean Johnson came out victorious, and would be moving on in the King of the Canvas Tournament, he was the one lying motionless. Thanks to Rosario there was a strew of 8 foot metal fencing barely standing up on the barricade. Zip ties barely linking them together. The idea was to keep the fans from causing chaos, not realizing that in doing this it set the tone for a chaotic night. And thanks to Better Than You., one of the metal fences was currently laying down towards the audience, broken off and split, as a bloodied and exhausted Dean Johnson covered the top of it. At this point the various Jets and Giants fans had dispersed and got out from underneath the death net, but did so while being mindful of Dean Johnson. I mean he was a superstar after all, you couldn't touch 'em right, this was part of the show!!?!
The crowd was excited by the whole affair. It was a fantastic match with a lot of turns and both men worked their a** off. But now with everything slowed down, the gravity of the event that took place was brought front and center. There was actual violence, and there was actual danger. For performers and the audience members. This was not goof, that was actual distaste for each other displayed. This was beyond some Yankees arguing about a kids sport.
Then suddenly a familiar roar of a 4X4 etched through the arena as Rosario appeared driving it onto the front of the stage. Earlier in the night the manager was barred from ring side and sent packing, taking the vehicle with him. But as he assumed would happen, without him here Dean would get taken advantage of. Now that the unpredictable Canadian known as Better Than You. was gone he could check on his client. I mean it was very important he got cleaned up for interviews and press statements. His client was taking him straight to the money, Having a King of the Canvas winner on contract, oh that was going to buy them some plane tickets. Well and maybe if there was a little extra it could go towards Dean's cancer stricken son. Maybe though, he would have to check the accounts first.
Rosario whipped down the ramp down to the barricade, the wind whipping through his hair. He was wearing a white leather jacket and some jeans and was looking stylish as ever. His motor control was a beautiful spectacle as he slid to a stop getting off the vehicle and making his way to the barricade. It looked like a lot of work to jump over that barricade so instead he slid into the ring, demanding the microphone from the announcer watching the chaos unfold. He had demands!
"God Damn it, we could get 15 guys out here to build the fencing but we can't get a single staff member out here to get my client out of this mess. One of your top stars! I demand it! I need the Medical team out here pronto. FOLEY, TEAR DOWN THIS CAGE!....."
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Posted: Tue Jun 13, 2023 9:28 am
It’s raining, it’s pouring,
The old man’s snoring.
He got into bed
And bumped his head
And couldn’t get up in the morning.
Rosario’s calls for help were interrupted by an eerie child’s voice singing so loud it drowned out the microphone he was using. The child sang the simple lullaby, repeated the lyrics, and then started over. It seemed as if someone had hit the repeat button when it ended, leaving the confused audience in silence.
It’s raining, it’s pouring,
The old man’s snoring.
He got into bed
And bumped his head
And couldn’t get up in the morning.
Rosario lifted the mic once more to try and call out for help again, but this time the lights in the arena dimmed as a different song began over the speakers, meanwhile the titantron lit up with a compilation of news broadcasts. As the ragtime inspired “Blood” by My Chemical Romance played, the reports flashed from anchor to anchor. They were all reading the same report, looks of concern and fear painted on their faces as they announced; Malcolm Alexander, the psychopath, had escaped from ADX Florence, a notorious supermax prison. The very same prison that Blackjack had recorded the video that was played at the beginning of the show.
The news tickers scrolled by revealing scant details. Multiple guards had been either hurt or implicated, how he managed to escape was still unknown, his whereabouts were still unknown. The compilation flashed faster and faster, like someone was flipping through channels and growing frustrated that every channel was about Blackjack’s escape.
In the darkness, hidden in the anonymity of the audience, a large man rose up. Blackjack stepped onto the wrecked cage. He looked down at the battered Dean and chuckled only once, disappointment etched on his grizzled face. It seemed that prison had been a boon to Blackjack, anyone watching would see that he looked like he’d put on twenty pounds of muscle. His usual dapper suit was wrinkled and stained, and it was clearly a size too small for him. He nudged Dean’s head with his toe and continued on, turning his attention to Rosario’s back.
Careful not to shake the ring as he rolled in, Blackjack pushed himself to his feet and approached the veteran wrestler until he was standing just behind Rosario. Blackjack’s arms hung at his side until he reached over Rosario’s shoulder and plucked the microphone from his hand. At the same moment he snatched the microphone with his left hand, something slid out of his right sleeve into his waiting hand.
“I told you I was coming.” He said suddenly and then he lashed out with his right hand. The object expanded as his arm swung, his namesake locked into place as the impact baton swung for the side of Rosario’s head.
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Posted: Tue Jun 13, 2023 9:40 am
It was a fraction of a second, but the impact left an impression of pain and surprise as the sound of the strike reverberated through the arena. In the moments before the strike the darkness was expansive. Rosario would never admit it but as the light from the prison-break expose shone faintly on the veteran there was a visible shaking coming from his body. He thought the video shown earlier was more of a Russo plot, and the hush rumors in the back were spread by rookies to feel like they were being heard. But now with the sound of a small child who found her way from the set of Nightmare on Elm Street: The Dream Master it was all becoming very real, and very serious.
As serious as the sound of Rosario's body smashing into the canvas torso first. The lights flickered on rapidly mere milliseconds before the baton struck. The pain that coursed through Rosarios neck, which was the real ground for impact, felt like getting a limb suffocated by a car door. The sound of the crowd in a roar was all the reverberated through his mind as the shock set in and the adrenaline hit him. With all of the returns and talks of WWF:G legends no one expected a felon, a murderer, and an absolute monster of a man like Blackjack to appear. His huge body towering over the grounded weasel of a manager.
Eyes went to Dean Johnson who was unaware of the situation. He had felt a boot touch his head, which did bring him a little back to it. But at the end of the day all of the noise was nothing more than a wash. Whatever was happening in the ring was nothing more than a distant thought as his own head was recovering from touching the constellations.
Fight or Flight mode was a very real thing, and Flight mode was engaged. Rosario began to crawl towards the turnbuckle, aiming for the ropes, needing an escape. It was almost pathetic, the older man giving it his all, but not able to move very fast as the baton really sent the high flyer to the stars.
The crowd were on their tip of the seats. They didn't want him to die, because that was a very real possibility, but they also knew he deserved every bit of it IF the allegations were true! I mean just because Blackjack was here didn't mean that the man known as The Number Three who competed in the tournament last card was a fake, this could just be a misunderstanding after all!
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Posted: Tue Jun 13, 2023 12:31 pm
Blackjack stood over Rosario after hitting him hard enough with his blackjack to have cracked his skull, if not caved it in. He was amused to see Rosario try to start crawling away. He lifted the microphone to his mouth and the song came to an abrupt end. Blackjack stepped forward and placed a foot on Rosario's ankle, pressing his weight down to prevent Rosario's escape.
"Woah there friend. Don't be in such a hurry. Your little vicarious thrill of a protege is still breathing. So stay for a moment, because," Blackjack's face twisted in a grimace, "we have a bit of an uncomfortable discussion ahead of us."
Blackjack stepped off of Rosario's ankle and walked around until he was standing over Rosario's torso. He grinned down at Rosario and extended a hand down, offering to pick him up.
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Posted: Wed Jun 14, 2023 3:45 pm
"ARGGGHHH" Rosario screamed as the larger and heavier man put his weight on his ankles. Historically, Rosario's ankle had been one of the weaknesses to his in ring career. Over the years, he suffered from multiple ligament tears that caused him to go on hiatus, so having another mans full weight put pressure on his weak ankle at an unnatural angle made him go ballistic. The words said previously by Blackjack slightly lingered in his head, but in the current moment, with all of the pain, nothing could truly stick. "Dean!" Rosario screamed as Blackjack was standing over him, but nothing came of it. The manager couldn't see where his client was, but if he could he would know he was currently still recovering on galvanized steel.Then he saw it, a hand. A hand that committed atrocities in the past and more then likely would cause many more. This hand stabbed people who were once close to Rosario. This hand was fluent in the art of backstabbing.
Rosario was also well aware of the art of backstabbing and knew if he accepted the offer it would immediately turn on him. But he had no other option. Was he to run away and make the man even more furious. No! He knew his only way away from this man who for some reason had it out for him was if he was on his feet!
Rosario accepted the offer, lifting himself off of the ground, and immediately trying to hobble towards the ropes. He did so using moves that looked similar to some one in a sack running contest as any pressure put on to his ankle would match the pain emitting from his skull.
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Posted: Wed Jun 14, 2023 6:33 pm
Rosario was only able to get a few hobbles away as Blackjack refused to release his hand. Blackjack sneered at the look on Rosario's face when he glanced back. His free arm came down like a flash striking at Rosario's wrist, the glint of steel shining in his grip. The steel gave way as it connected with Rosario's wrist making a ratcheting sound; it swung around and with a second ratchet as the shackle locked into place. His sneer gave way to delight as Rosario realized what had happened. He released his grip on Rosario's hand, still controlling it with the other half of the handcuffs, and reached into his jacket's breast pocket fumbling with whatever it held.
"Hang on a tick yeah, the ol' suit's a bit snug." He fumbled a bit, rolling his eyes as he did at the minor inconvenience. He grunted as he seemed to be having an inordinate amount of trouble pulling it out. "Oh boy, am I embarrassed. This is really unprofessional, terribly sorry." His laid back attitude made a stark contrast with the seriousness in the video he'd recorded before breaking out.
His face lit up finally as he grasped the object and tugged, and tugged, and with and exasperated sigh he yanked so hard he ripped the entire pocket open. Rearing his fist back, the thick brass knuckles on full display for a moment, Blackjack swung. He aimed for Rosario's gut, just below the diaphragm.
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Posted: Wed Jun 14, 2023 9:39 pm
Gutted. Winded. Exasperated. His esophagus opening wide trying to recover the breathe that escaped his stomach so violently. Nothing mattered anymore as he doubled over feeling his insides scream. There was no more pain in his ankle. His head felt like he main veined bottles of Advil and Gatorade in the morning. He felt youthful with how quick and ravenous he tried to achieve sustenance.
His hobble turned into a race into the canvas as he wound up face first on the mat. He ignored the metal surrounding one of his risks and was now facing the very real possibility that there wasn't escape. Luckily he didn't feel any sharp pain of a rib breaking, but he couldn't spend more then a second with a satisfied amount o f air in his lung.
The crowd absolutely roared as the hit connected. The sound of the metal contacting almost matching the volume of Rosario's exasperated gasps following. The noise and sturdiness of everything was horrifying as they didn't know what was fact and fiction. There was a 4X4 at ringside, there was broken fencing around the barricade and most importantly there was an escape convict brutalizing a figure who had been in there face every show since the beginning of the year. Nothing mattered, not even the slight movement happening on top of one toppled over link fence. Nothing.
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Posted: Fri Jun 16, 2023 1:47 pm
Blackjack savored the feeling of his fist connecting with Rosario's guts, the brass knuckles only heightened the sensation for him. He quickly tossed them aside, no longer needing them, they were just another something that would draw his attention for his newest plaything. He stood over Rosario refusing to give his handcuffed arm any give as the older man dropped to the mat. Dragging him to the corner, Blackjack stepped through the ropes and hopped down. "Now give us yer hand," he chided. Reaching around the pole he grabbed Rosario's free wrist and yanked it around until he was able to clasp the remaining wrist in the handcuffs. Rosario was now trapped in the ring with his hands cuffed around the ring post between the second and third ropes.
Blackjack stepped away, making a show of dusting himself off to the audience members just beyond the shoddily out together fence. He examined the construction with a grin nodding to himself. "This is some shoddy work, someone's gonna get hurt. I'm impressed." Blackjack walked back over to Dean and looked down at the young wrestlers as he stirred. Blackjack stepped past him and bent down where he had been sitting. When he stood back up he hoisted a bodybag into his shoulder.
When he returned to the ring, Blackjack tossed the bag roughly on the ground making a heavy thud. Then he turned back to Rosario after demanding a microphone from a ring hand. The poor man visibly shook as he brought the microphone out. Blackjack crouched in front of Rosario, speaking in his gravelly voice. "Now you got yourself a look of confusion there. Though that may just be the little bump I gave yah." He knocked himself on the side of the head with the microphone as if to emphasize his point.
"Now, I believe I made myself clear in the video I played for you earlier tonight. I warned you that I was coming. SO CUT OUT THE BULLSHIT!” He shouted the last, suddenly turning from almost congenial to furious. Standing upright he adjusted the knot on his tie, and walked over to the body bag, speaking into the microphone as he walked. “I’ve watched that match over and over now. I know it very well, and that video alone should be enough for even the dumbest of you morons out there.” He grinned at the spattering of boos he got, “It shouldn’t be that hard to find the dumbest, but in this room…” He looked around the audience pretending to count. “It might take a while. So, I’ll be magnanimous and explain it to you in simple terms.”
He fished a remote out of his pocket and clicked it, and a video package started playing showing highlights from the match. “It’s painfully obvious from the very start, he is clearly shorter now than he was when he was alive, I’d point out that he’s significantly lighter than he used to be.” He looked down at his own bulging stomach, and size too small suit, “But who am I to judge someone’s weight loss or gain?” He laughed as if his own joke had been the funniest thing he’d heard that night. The video flicked from Three’s entrance to a montage of him inexpertly using moves from his arsenal. “The demon was known for his skill in the ring as much as his supernatural powers. Even if he were a decade out of practice, he would not be making these very clearly rookie mistakes.” The moves were sloppy, but they were far from inexpert; not that Blackjack would actually know, he was a fighter not a wrestler.
The video flicked over again this time showing a close up of the blood draining from Three’s busted nose. “Most damning of all however is the blood.” The images cycled through several of Three’s older fights and showed him bleeding copiously, a blood so dark it looked black. “You can’t fake the blood. Seems pretty conclusive to me. But I know you are all wondering, what do I care? Not that any of you would know this, but Three was a mentor to a young Blackjack. Maybe I’m a bit sentimental, but to have someone, I know he considered a friend, parade an imposter of him around just for some clout, doesn't sit right with me.
But I thought I’d give Rosario the benefit of doubt here. He may not have been involved. He may have been innocent in this affront to a man’s legacy. So I checked with Cartwright, it’s a good thing he was already in a hospital. But color me surprised when I discovered that not only was this oily sack of washed up talent involved. He masterminded the entire thing. Shows up in Cartwright’s office with the promise of a secret booking.
So what? You thought you’d have someone come out pretending to be a long dead legend, put on a half cocked show, and then strip the man of one of the most significant legacies in this industry. Three never tapped, not once. He let his bones snap, and risked death every time, but he never tapped; not even I could make him tap. But hey that’s fine, lets just give such an accomplishment to that pathetic example of the best this generation’s got. That boy couldn’t choke his own chicken into submission, let alone The Number Three!”
He clicked the remote at the screen and a new video flashed by, an older video. Three was wrestling Dion Necurat in a cage match. The paladin had beaten Three down, and just poured a bowl of liquid over him. The man lit a match and tossed it down onto the demon causing him to burst into flames. Dion escaped the cage, while Three rolled on the mat consumed by fire as ring hands tried to get in and put out the flames. Three stopped flailing before they got to him, and by the time they put the fire out; he was nothing but a charred corpse.
Music started playing, a familiar tune, Burnin’ for you, by Blue Oyster Cult. “It’s a shame Rosario. For such a high flyer, you’ve really crashed. And since you’re so interested in stealing Three’s legacy, I think it only fitting you take another.”
Home in the valley
Home in the city
Home isn't pretty
Ain't no home for me
Blackjack reached down into the body bag and pulled out a economy sized bottle of lighter fluid, the kind suburban dads scorched their eyebrows trying to start charcoal so they could burn some dry hamburgers. He stepped over the bag and turned the bottle over, squirting the flammable liquid all over Rosario, using the majority of the bottle until the man was doused in it. Satisfied with his work, Blackjack grabbed the body bag and started dragging it out of the ring, letting it fall to the floor before dragging it up the stage. The entire time he was pouring a trail of lighter fluid next to him. At the top of the stage Blackjack ripped the nozzle off of the bottle and dumped the rest out.
Home in the darkness
Home on the highway
Home isn't my way
Home I'll never be
He pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of a pocket and stuck a slightly bent stick in his mouth. The zippo, which was clearly dried out, took multiple flicks before a flame finally caught. He lit the tip and inhaled a deep drag, looking down at Rosario struggling in a puddle of lighter fluid. Then he tossed the lighter down in the puddle next to him. Flames jumped to life catching the fluid as it evaporated into fumes and raced down the ramp towards Rosario…
Burn out the day
Burn out the night
I can't see no reason to put up a fight
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Posted: Fri Jun 16, 2023 7:01 pm
"I'm living for givin' the devil his due" The lighter dropped as a violent orange flame emitted directly under Blackjack. It had a river to follow and the flames did it as the excitement from the fans died down. Now it was astonishment. The convict was serious, and there was no working this heat. Nothing mattered to them but this trail of boiling tears..."And I'm burnin', I'm burnin', I'm burnin' for you" There were gasps emitting from the audience combined with the sound of metal fencing being moved. It was from every inch of the arena. The movement of hands and faces and backs that tugged pulled and lifted all about.
Rosario could taste the chemical on his lips as he heard the words the lunatic preached. The Jig was up, he was found out. He had rigged the King of the Canvas, and he did plant a fake Three. But it wasn't for him, it was for Dean. Dean needed it and what's the point of a legacy if it can't be ruined and conquered. Rosario had thought he had crashed and burned previously, but nothing like this. The fire making its way down the ramp and towards the ring"I'm burnin', I'm burnin', I'm burnin' for you..." The fire made it's way into the ring, getting bigger and stronger as the source of the fuel was splattered everywhere. The heat ringing through the fencing and the seriousness of it all becoming clear. A brilliant bright flame that would of made cavemen into believers of gods and demons grew in the ring as it inched closer and closer to Rosario when...
It made contact. Screams emitting from the veteran wrestler. His mouth moving like a wave pool water system.
The flame attached onto Rosario's leg as the crowd grew silent. He patted and patted. Screaming. Arms flailing. Terror on his face. Rosario causing so much movement in the ring but not the only movement as…
Dean Johnson jumped onto the leg of Rosario! A blaring visual of the bloddied faced rookie running into the searing flames. Firing out from his lower body was the intense smoke from a fire extinguisher held in both hands. Through all the chaos Dean had gained enough of himself realize the danger Rosario was in, regardless if he deserved it or not. The man was devious but without him Dean wouldn't of been where he was and wouldn’t be making the money he needed for his kid.
The smoke suffocated Rosario’s leg as Dean directed the smoke. His hands firmly on the fire extinguisher. It was his luck to find one barely sticking out under the ring, if he hadn’t spent so much of his time on the ground he probably wouldn’t of notice it laying there.
As the smoke filled the ring Dean pushed his body against Rosario’s, rolling them out of the ring and out of the fuel spot. Once out on the concrete, Rosario gripped his leg weeping. He laid there sobbing, his body curling up into an almost fetal position. Tears began to fill his face as dozens of staff members began to run down the ramp. The house lights turned on as the video footage suddenly turned black.
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