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Posted: Tue Jul 04, 2023 6:48 am
With locations in Brooklyn, New York and off the coast of Sevii Selegaria, the Club Marauder was a once famous nightclub and center of operations for Midnight Marauders International. While in recent years the organization was forced to foreclose on both properties, over the last few months a turnaround in fortunes spearheaded by the returned Brantley Summers has resulted in a fresh infusion of sponsorship money. The result? None other than a new monument to the legitimate business interests of the most important, non-political stable in the history of professional wrestling. Furthermore, it was a giant middle finger to those that said they had fallen off, resorted to cheap marketing gimmicks to stay relevant and in the process, lost their juice. Indeed, the only juice being lost in this establishment would be the juice of excess hamburger patties rolling down the flat top grill behind the counter of the newly opened Club McRauder. Vince Russo and David Otunga stand outside the converted fast food facility with a giant pair of scissors, a mob of photographers and paid models in scantily clad red & yellow uniforms surrounding them as they outline the amenities of the building to curious reporters. In the main dining hall, an assortment of tables and not one, but two fountain drink machines with a touch screen that provided every conceivable beverage choice and jungle juice equivalent. There was also a man, woman and non-gendered bathroom. Brilliant, vibrant florescent lights hung over this circle of champions. At the west end of the building was some sort of play pen with an assortment of interconnected tubes fit for children and adults. In the middle of the glass covered room, a ball pit taped off with caution warnings, the opening of which was contingent on the acquisition of various permits. And if all that wasn't enough? On the east side, a fully functioning drive through that way even McRauder Nation members on the run could have their fill of joy on the way to work. Maybe if they were lucky, and had saved up on McRauder rewards, they could even cash in on an extra prizes like a free swirl cone or novelty loaded glove. Finally, all along the wall of this side of the building is a mural dedicated to long gone legends. Esoteric & Tavarius, K-Fresh, Dauth, Duane Wages, DJ and various likenesses adapted into the magical, high fantasy culinary lore of McRauderland. And on the bench near the park area of the drive thru? It was none other than a hardened plastic statue of Freakshow, beaming with joy, one leg crossed over the other his arm along the back of the seat in a welcoming gesture. "We've got all that and MORE folks! Some come on in, get some drinks, we've got wet t-shirt competitions coming up and live music! And if we're lucky, the new EEW heavyweight champion might just show up and blow the roof off the place bro! Hit it Otunga!!!
Otunga, who had been sitting on the sidelines in a pair of shades, reaches over to the boombox and hits the music. Attendees begin clapping in unison as Russo produces a pair of giant scissors, cutting the ribbon separating the mob from the building as they all come flooding through the doors for the first time. It's official, The Club McRauder is open for business!
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Posted: Tue Jul 04, 2023 2:57 pm
The WWFG General Manager, Mick Foley, is one of the first customers to arrive.
The Hardcore Legend is showing support for his good friend Staff Member Russo.
The two men have been working together long before WWFG Owner, Cartwright, hired both of them for their expert knowledge and to help him with the day-to-day activities of running a professional wrestling promotion.
Mick Foley has dressed-up for the occasion, wearing his best flannel shirt, sweatpants and trainers.
Mick Foley approaches Staff Member Russo and David Otunga, greeting them with his usual joyful smile.
Foley: "BANG BANG! It's good to see MMI is back in business and back with a BANG! I love what you have all done with this place. This place is more flashy than Trump Towers!"
Mick Foley begins to smell food cooking on the nearby grill.
Foley: "The Club McRauder, that's my kind of marketing. It's a name that sticks in the mind. I'll be sure to start earning my McRauder rewards very soon! You managed to come up with all of this by yourself Russo?"
In the background, you can see Jim Ross complaining to Jerry 'The King' Lawler that there isn't any barbecue sauce.
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Posted: Thu Jul 06, 2023 7:52 am
The network representatvie, David Otunga interjects himself.
The former husband of Jennier Hudson is standing up for the honor of MMI.
Although Russo and Foley have been working together under Cartwright, following his disappearance Foley has taken a stance whereby new EEW World Champion, Brantley Summers, is denied preferential treatment.
Otunga is wearing an argyle vest, slacks and holding a coffee thermos.
Otunga: "Mr Foley! Sorry, Mr Russo is VERY busy right now. As you can see we have plenty of tables here But as of right now most of them are reserved for our platinum guests."
Giving the nod at one of the hostesses, she escorts Russo to one of the VIP tables leaving just Foley and Otunga.
Otunga; "Unfortunately, we can't just let you cut in line because of our previously established business relationship. A man such as yourself, I'm sure you understand. Allow me to show you to our waiting room."
Otunga grabs Foley by the elbow, leading him several feet over to a sectioned off area with several claw machines and car racing arcade games.
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Posted: Thu Jul 06, 2023 2:54 pm
Mick Foley does not get chance to hear from Staff Member Russo, as Russo is quickly escorted away by a hostess, while he too is moved to another location inside of The Club McRauder by David Otunga.
Did Staff Member Russo ask for this?
Did Otunga do this by himself out of spite?
Nevertheless, Mick Foley does not struggle as Otunga grabs him by the elbow.
Mick Foley is lead in to an amusement arcade area, unaware that it is sectioned-off and it looks like he is about to be abandoned there all alone.
It may not be food but Mick does enjoy the arcade.
Foley: "You brought me here Otunga and we're the only two around! You know what that means? We have all of these cool racing games to play together!"
Mick Foley playfully slaps Otunga on the back before he starts rubbing his hands together, warming them up to grip a steering wheel.
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Posted: Thu Jul 06, 2023 4:06 pm
On the main stage of the Club, the real living and breathing Brazilian Twink Roberto Mendez stands alongside four others -- which are all animatronics. There was a Crab named Lynn Brycecrab, a Griffin named Steele Griffin, a Cow named Andrew Mbuffalo, and an Elephant named Chuck Trunkleston. They each played an instrument, Andrew on the bass, Griffin on the Guitar, Lynn on the Drums, and Chuck would play his trunk like a trumpet. Roberto, on the other hand...he sang. "Ahem...Welcome to Club McRauder, where every 20 minutes you'll enjoy a song from us: Five Worlds Unighted at Freddy's -- the wacky animatronic band you can only find here at Club McRauder. Now um...let's start jamming!" The animatronics spring to life, going through their pre-recorded movements and strumming out the same song as always -- the only one they were programed to play. East bound and down, loaded up and truckin' A-we gonna do what they say can't be done We've got a long way to go, and a short time to get there I'm east bound, just watch ol' "Bandit" run As the group sang, Roberto seemed to merely be lip syncing -- not really putting his all into this. He was the only member of Five Worlds United left under contract with MMI, unable to escape his position no matter what he did. He wasn't sure why Freakshow kept him around way back when, or why Nicky Delabonte Jr. made sure he was well taken care of. It was a horrible time for the singer who hadn't wrestled a match in years at this point...but he had no choice but to deal with what equated to indentured servitude at this point. As the band wrapped things up and patrons cheered, Roberto quickly walked off the stage as it was time for his guaranteed 10-minutes-a-day break. He walked through the kitchen and out the backdoor, walking out into an alleyway behind the large building. He sat down on a milk crate, and looked down at his reflection in a perfectly filled puddle before him. His hair, no longer dyed purple but a nice corporate-friendly black. His nails had no color to them anymore, not a plain pink like everyone else. He was even forced to have the tattoo of a blue rose removed from his chest years prior due to "health concerns" from the higher ups at MMI. It had been a long while since Roberto truly had been happy, but perhaps his misfortunes were about to change. From across the alleyway, in the dark near a dumpster, Roberto would notice someone standing there. They were tossing small pebbles near him, as if to get his attention. "He-Hello? Who's that? Who is there, the entrance is on the other side." After there was no answer, curiosity would get the better of Roberto. He stood and cautiously made his way towards the darkness, the figure moving slightly as if it was beckoning him to come closer. He finally got within striking distance, which turned out to be a horrible move. Roberto was grabbed and his mouth was quickly gagged, preventing him from screaming for help as he thrashed around, aiming a few elbows to his attacker's head. They were for naught though, the former wrestler wasn't as coordinated as he once had been. The man began to pull Roberto through the darkness down another alley towards an awaiting vehicle. He throws MMI's unintended stalwart into the back of the vehicle, quickly hopping in after as the car takes off down the road incredibly fast, trying to make sure it wasn't seen. Roberto would quickly be bound with his arms behind his back and legs tied together to make sure he wouldn't be able to do much. The young Brazilian had tears in his eyes, making it hard for him to get a good look in the dimly lit car at anyone in there with him...until he got a good look at the man in front of him, sitting in a single rotated seat in the back of this car. He had an oxygen tank next to him with a mask over his mouth, his body looking somewhat frail. His eyes though, the eyes that Roberto had seen so many times over the years giving him odd jobs and handing him his payroll. The eyes...of Nicky Delabonte Jr. The car sped off into the deep dark night, away from Club McRauder as the festivities over there continued.
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Posted: Fri Jul 07, 2023 2:33 am
'Milquetoast' Emile Rizzoto was seen at a kiosk ordering one of the finest delicacies on the menu, the #6 McRauder Chicken Club Meal. Emile was a young cat full of rizz and thinking he could make a name for himself if he could just get a foot in the door at the club. After tapping his card against the screen and syncing the receipt to his phone to collect points, Emile would head towards soda fountain machine. Taking a base of the crispiest Sprite on Earth, he would add the Orange Hi-C. It was a specialty in Rizzoto's homeland. Wanting to view the sights, Emile would wander towards the east end of the building to check out the collection of names who truly exemplified was wrestling was in the 07-09 glory years. He remembered the heartfelt rhymes of The Inquisition and nodded his head to their smooth flows as a montage of Flaco highlights play on the kiosk screens. The biggest, most successful name Rizzoto hoped to see was the leader of the Marauders, hearing that the multimedia sensation was going to be appearing at the grand opening of Club McRauder. Rizzoto, native to Montreal, made his name pushing cigarettes for the boys as a teen back when Mystique and Marxx made pushing French-Canadians cool. Can't hang on the stick though. Might be a language barrier, like Lance Storm for instance.
"#6 Meal!"
A pristine silver tray carrying the finest cardboard sandwich and fry boxes you could get from 'urban recyclers' comes gliding across the kitchen to the front from none other than the king of grease The Vase Man. He was in charge of getting the kitchen ready for this to keep everything in house and maintain trademark McRauder customer service. Taking advantage of child labor laws, a twelve year old grabbed the tray and brought it to the counter and grabbed the microphone.
"Numbuh 71 heya!"
Rizzoto makes his way to the counter to grab his meal when out of nowhere, the Main Event Marauder snatches the cardboard sandwich box off the tray. He was wearing the classic five inch inseam white shorts, a neon green tank top, backwards PitVipers, white Air Monarchs, and a skinny rose gold chain. After the Nick Williams beating at the CONCACAF Nations League Final, now SIZZLIN' HOT Summers had some aches that the new special at Club McRauder could help cure. Summers would open the box and the aroma of the perfect concoction of grilled chicken, cheddar cheese, bacon, lettuce, tomato, and McRauder Secret Sauce would hit his nose sending him into a blissful euphoria. The new EEW World Champion would take a bite and the crinkle of the lettuce added the perfect sound to the flavor and texture profiles of the sandwich. He walked into the arcade section with Otunga and Foley and SIZZLIN' HOT places his hand on the top of a plastic steering wheel of a nearby car.
"You oughta be more receptive to Mr. Otunga here Foley. He's a man that's here to focus on getting eyes on the product. Just take a second to see what the network thinks about the direction. We don't need another Cartwright who refuses to read the room. Or does and actively goes against the room's best interest."
Meanwhile, Rizzoto had finally made his way to the service counter only to find an encasing of fries. The look of grief on his face when he saw that the main dish of his meal was snagged could only be rivaled by something like the loss of your WWFG Championship reign from the annals of history.
[rizz]"Hon hon what could have happened to moi's sand weech?!"[/rizz]
Emile was looking for an employee to file a complaint with, but the sheer number of guests made it impossible to grab hold of someone. Realizing he was in a for a lost cause, Rizzoto went back to his roots, hawking around the kiosk to see orders that he could grab off the counter himself.
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Posted: Sat Jul 08, 2023 12:27 am
Bison mbadi stood at the entrance, wearing a tailored blue suit with yellow dress shirt with an embroidered trident on the shirt pocket to symbolize the Barbados flag, accompanied by his protege Cameron Bizzle who wore his finest tuxedo t-shirt and black denim pants. It seemed that Cameron was upset with the doorman as Bison was occupied on his cell phone. "Did you not hear!? I told you I should be allowed in here! I am CAMERON BIZZLE!"
"Sorry, not on the list."
"check again! I am a big deal! I just had a match at King of the Canvas! Under C...for cameron..or B...for Bizzle."
"Nope... not on the list sir"
"this is an outrage! Let me speak to your supervisor about this travesty! "
"Hes gonna tell you the same thing, sir."
"DON'T TELL ME WHAT HES GONNA SAY JUST GO GE-" Bison at this moment hung up on his phone and placed a hand on Camerons shoulder to silence him. "It's ok, I got this. He's with me, it's all cool. Bison Mbadi, Body by Mbadi brand."
"All good Mr. Mbadi. Please enjoy yourself."The pair were escorted over to the tables, unlike the scruffy general manager who dared to fine him, Bison was a platinum member. They sat down, the massive Caribbean Colossus dwarfing the tables so much it looked as if they sat down in the children's area of the club. Cameron looked over the menu littered with pictures of the food, crossword puzzles, and a maze activity. "I'm not sure what to order...maybe the mega bacon supreme burger for the protein?" Bison shook his head, giving his pupil a tsk tsk tsk "oh Cameron, I'm not ordering anything here. The food here is all loaded with grease...salt... trans fats... any amount of protein and nutrients worthwhile gets fried and broiled away. No no no, we don't eat the food here. You see, Cameron..."Bison turned to the camera...  "With the Body by Mbadi program, its more than a training regimen, it's a lifestyle choice. It's about more than what you put out at the gym, its also about what you put in your body. Greasy, salty, calorie dense food with no nutritional value is not how you turn your body into an MMMMMMBadi. Your body is a temple, and you need to keep it maintained and pristine. Thats why I start my day with a protein bar and banana, followed by grilled chicken, salmon, hummus, apples with peanut butter, and other healthy energizing foods that will strengthen your foundations. Your Inner Alpha won't awaken when you shovel garbage into your temple. With a healthy eating mindset, you will maximize your grindset." Bison pulled up a lunch box, pulling out Tupperware with a grilled chicken wrap with avocado(a super food), apple slices and peanut butter, carrots and hummus, and a fruit yogurt parfait. The two men headed to the fountain to get their drinks. Cameron took his cup and started to fill it with a fizzy soda pop, only for Bison to slap the cup out of his hand, splattering on his semi-formal graphic tee. "SODA!? Cameron Bizzle, are you trying to chug yourself into a dad bod? Drink your way to a gut? Quaff away your fab back into flab? Just one cup of these sugary caffienated carbonated beverages loads up your daily calories. Empty calories, fatty calories, LOSER CALORIES. There is no love in those handles, Cameron. Why would you put poison down your gullet when right here at Club McRauder you can instead fill yourself a chalice of victory with the brand new sports drinks sweeping the athletic world!"Bison pointed to two of the fountains with a unique logo on them:  Bisonade! The new sugar free electrolyte beverage endorsed by the Body by Mbadi Program. With no sugar, no high fructose corn syrup, electrolytes to keep you hydrated, and essential B vitamins for natural energy without crashing. Not to mention right now it comes in two different delicious flavors: Caribbean Colossus Punch and Bison Boysenberry Blast! So you can indulge in that sin free flavor in a delicious on the go beverage for your workouts, hot days, or simply at home. If you want to be a King or Queen, awaken your Inner Alpha by treating yourself right with a cold refreshing Bisonade. You'll thank me later, and I say now... you're welcome"
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Posted: Sat Jul 08, 2023 8:29 am
As Nicky Delabonte Jr's car speeds down the highway, the sound of police sirens get louder and louder, turning up the radio to drown out the noise he fails to see that the vehicle is heading straight for none other than Swatbad. Pulling a rocket launcher off his back, he aims it steadily at the car and fire blowing it up. Only the car wasn't the broken down Landrover Delabonte had pulled up on the club in, but an Aston Martin V12 Zagato. And in the car? It wasn't the same Nicky Delabonte Jr. of our world, filled with regrets and petty grievances, it was the Nicky Delabonte Jr of the G-Fed Auto Roleplay Server.WASTED Slamming his fists angrily against the plastic steering wheel of the arcade console, it was the appearance of Summers that had caused Otunga to be distracted, ending the game on his last life. Fishing into his pocket for coins as the countdown clock on the screen flashes from ten, he grumbles pushing a few quarters into the slot to go back to the main menu of the console. Twisting the wheel, he accesses the media player of the device hitting the honk button. "Summers! Glad that you could make it here in time. Foley, I'm sure you've heard Summers is the new EEW champion? You know, that's going to bring a lot of ratings. Of course, we all here want to make sure that the WWFG brand is able to capitalize on that by taking everyones best interest into account. Now that the champ is here, let me show you something we put together specifically for this occasion--"A computer generated version of Freakshow in clown paint with yellow and red striped overalls dances across the screen, clipping violently as vibrant text reveals the opening titles sequence to the McRauders General Manager's Backstage Thread Maintenance Training Module. A voice over narrates as a montage of clips from various backstage threads from across the years plays accompanied by statistics showing the number of pages in each one. WIF: 8756 pages. FFA: 389 pages. WWE Unlimited Backstage: 38 pages. Club Marauder: 18 pages. EWA: 10 pages. EEW: 9 pages. Conspicuously absent was WWFG, perhaps due to the cluttered and disorganized nature of the companies historical archive making it difficult to track down information, but rest assured, like the others, even WWFG at one time had a diverse, populous and most importantly, stickied backstage thread, as the video would go on to explain: "Don't you just HATE having to make a NEW backstage area EVERY show? By stickying the backstage threads, management not only reduces their workload by giving talent a place to socialize between shows, but also promotes a healthier, safer work environment! Statistics show that workers show a 150% increase in happiness when backstage area threads are given preferential placement in guilds and left open, rather than locked at the ending of each show cycle! Be part of the solution, not the problem and create a safer, greener environment in your guilds!"
As the video drones on and on back in the main lobby, an overweight child in a propeller cap with a lollipop and his German mother walk up to the Bisonade fountain. The little boy, Peter, puts his cup to the machine filling it to the brim with the beverage. Taking a big gulp of the drink, immediately spitting it out in a mist like HHH. Only he wasn't trying to punch above his weight in drawing power as a top guy for over a decade, he just thought that the drink tasted bad.
"Das ist TERRIBLEHAUSEN, Mutter!!"
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