Post by T-Robosaurus Rex on Nov 1, 2009 19:59:25 GMT -5
“I wonder if Jet even knows yet.”
This from Salem, making his way from the parking lot into the arena with KvK, Zimmermann and Nathan Korpi at his side. Klaus shrugs.
“Well, if he doesn’t, he will soon.”
Korpi looks between the two in shock.
“You mean you guys haven’t called him to let him know Jez is leaving?”
A low growl emits from Salem’s throat and Nathan wisely shuts up.
“She wouldn’t leave without saying bye.”
KvK arches an eyebrow at the sulking, masked giant.
“D’you really think so? After the mess you’ve made of things?”
Salem drops his bag and turns on KvK who drops his bag as well, but before anything can come of the dispute, Nathan jumps in between them.
“Stop fucking fighting! Goddamn it you two, do you know how pissed off she would be if you two go at it? And you have a match tonight. Fucking focus! Shit!”
Both Salem and KvK stare at Korpi as if he’s grown another head. Nathan looks angrily between them before throwing his arms up with an “I give up” look and storming off. Klaus smiles after him.
“Getting some has made the rookie grow a pair.”
Salem just grumbles and makes his way into the arena. Klaus shrugs and picks up his bag and starts to follow before something, or someone as the case may be, catches his eye. He quickly passes the bag off to Zimmermann and makes after the man.
“Exile… hey Ex, wait up!”
Exile seems not to hear him and already the door to the arena is closing behind him. KvK swears under his breath and jogs after him, throwing the door open and, seeing him turning down the hall, follows, calling to him again as he makes the turn, noticing too late that Exile has been drawn into the “good book” he always carries around. His forehead wrinkled from concentration, he nevertheless, makes the appropriate maneuvers and turns in an almost robotic way.
“How the fuck does he do that?” KvK mutters to himself before jogging on to catch up.
Exile comes to what is assumedly his dressing room. He opens the door and moves in fluidly just as KvK reaches him. KvK starts to speak but is stunned when he views a very curvy and hot blonde sitting on a desk in Exile’s dressing room.
“Hey how come you get one of th-”
Klaus stands stunned as the door comes back and closes in his face, effectively cutting off his words and a giggle emits from within. Turning, a bemused look on his face, he ponders the laugh as he makes his way to his own dressing room.
“Now where have I heard that before?”
The scene fades into the arena, and we are now live.
Vinegar: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to another exciting week of GIW action! And we promise you, this week we will have at least double the matches that we had at our pay-per-view.
Hanson: I still can’t believe I was replaced by a limey from Missouri.
Vinegar: That was only for one match, and if it makes you feel better, I’d rather commentate with you than Randrew.
DING DING!
Dennis: Ladies and Gentlemen, the opening contest is scheduled for ONE FALL!
Gimme Back My Bullets kicks in as Rigor Vaine makes his way out into the arena to a chorus of boos. His eyes are focus, set dead on the ring as he stands for a moment with his head covered in the good of the robe he wears. He then begins his stride to the ring, each step in time with the beat of the music before rolling into the ring and standing dead centre. He closes his eyes for a moment and begins to quietly talk to himself before pulling open the robe and dropping it to the ground. Legs slightly apart, he tilts his head to the ceiling of the building and begins to shout in Romanian before extending his arms at 10 and 2 o’clock.
The fans continue to boo him as the music dies down to almost nothing.
Dennis: Introducing first from....wait.....what the hell does that say? From some place in Moldova, weighing in at 279 pounds............RIGOR VAIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEE!
Vinegar: This match will feature the debut of two new additions to the GIW roster; Rigor Vaine and Exile.
Hanson: So is this guy like Russian?
Vinegar: No, he’s Moldovan.
Hanson:.....Where’s that?
Vinegar: Near Romania and Ukraine.
The cover of Hells Bells by six feet under starts to play. The lights dim with each tolling of the bell as well as any other speakers save for the music and the commentators mics. As the Guitar starts up a spot light goes to the entrance...with no one there. Continues...Spot light searches the ring. No one. From the audience themselves he arises, towering over the local ring side attendees. Jumping the railing he fights his way to the ring, knocking a few fans out of the way. He charges down Rigor and hits a huge clothesline as the bell is sounded to begin the match.
Vinegar: What a powerful clothesline!
Hanson: It only keeps that Moldovan dude down for a second though; he is right back up sand these two are just starring each other down
Vinegar: Folks, I should read out what the tape is for Exile. He is 6’5, 285 pounds. These two are the exact same height, and exile is about 6 pounds heavier. They are pretty even on the tape.
Hanson: While you were blabbing on about tapes, Rigor and Exile have just started a punch-up, Rigor getting the upper hand and sending Exile to the corner.
Vinegar: Thank-you Hanson. Rigor is definitely in control at this time. He lifts Exile up and places him on that top rope. Vaine climbing after him, and hits a huge superplex! Quick cover
ONE!
Hanson: And a kick out....too early for a cover greenie.
Vinegar: For once I agree with you, it is well too early to think he can be put away. But Rigor back into it with those vicious stomps to Exile.
Hanson: Oh wow, isn’t stomping a move we have never seen from a powerhouse before?
Vinegar: It may be a move that has been done heaps, but it is effective partner. Vaine picks Exile up, whips him to the ropes, and takes him down with a body slam. Now it appears that he’s climbing the turnbuckle, and he jumps off with an authoritive leg drop
Hanson: Hulkamainia from up high!
Vinegar: And look at that smile on Rigor’s face, he knows that he is in control of this match. He walks over to the opposite side of the ring and crouches down, waiting for Exile to get back up, he runs in, looks like he’s going for the Russian Roulette...
Hanson: HAHAHAHAHA! HE MISSED!
Vinegar: Exile with the wherewithal to move, and send his opponent through into that ring post. It looks like he may be in pain....I can’t tell.....his eyes are screwed up, but he’s smiling.
Hanson: I thought he looked like a guy who loves Bondage.
Vinegar:.....what?
Hanson: You know, where there’s that lady wearing a leather corset and they tie you up and torture you....it’s for pain addicts really...
Vinegar: Hanson, you are sick you know that?
Hanson: Whatever old man. Exile is unloading with those foot to ass type manoeuvres, whatever those are.
Vinegar: He’s kicking him.
Hanson: I knew that.
Vinegar: I’m sure you did. Exile now targeting Rigors possibly injured shoulder with those deep arm drags, now going for an arm bar and putting that knee into his back to add to the pressure......and Rigor is STILL smiling.
Hanson: See? What did I tell you? He’s a pain addict.
Vinegar: Vaine not going to submit, he slowly starts to get back to a vertical basis, and Exile dropping the elbow onto that hurt shoulder. Vaine grasping his shoulder as he turns into a devastating right hand by Exile!
Hanson: There is that dreaded fist to face move that is so prominent in his profile!
Vinegar: Exile going for the grapple now, Vaine breaks it up, AND HITS FROM MOLDOVA WITH LOVE! EXILE TAKING A HUGE SHOT TO THE JAW!
Hanson: He isn’t going for the cover; he wants to throw this guy.
Vinegar: Whip to the ropes, THE MOTHERLAND! Here’s the pin!
ONE!!!!
TWO!!!!
THREE!!!!
Dennis: Here is your winner, RIGOR VAIIIIINNNNNNEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!
Vinegar: Rigor Vaine winning in a gruelling match!
Hanson: Yeah how boring was it hey?
Vinegar: That’s not what I meant Dan.
Hanson: Yes it was, just admit it.
Vinegar: I was.....oh never mind, talking to you is like talking to a piece of concrete. Although concrete probably wouldn’t be as thick as you.
This from Salem, making his way from the parking lot into the arena with KvK, Zimmermann and Nathan Korpi at his side. Klaus shrugs.
“Well, if he doesn’t, he will soon.”
Korpi looks between the two in shock.
“You mean you guys haven’t called him to let him know Jez is leaving?”
A low growl emits from Salem’s throat and Nathan wisely shuts up.
“She wouldn’t leave without saying bye.”
KvK arches an eyebrow at the sulking, masked giant.
“D’you really think so? After the mess you’ve made of things?”
Salem drops his bag and turns on KvK who drops his bag as well, but before anything can come of the dispute, Nathan jumps in between them.
“Stop fucking fighting! Goddamn it you two, do you know how pissed off she would be if you two go at it? And you have a match tonight. Fucking focus! Shit!”
Both Salem and KvK stare at Korpi as if he’s grown another head. Nathan looks angrily between them before throwing his arms up with an “I give up” look and storming off. Klaus smiles after him.
“Getting some has made the rookie grow a pair.”
Salem just grumbles and makes his way into the arena. Klaus shrugs and picks up his bag and starts to follow before something, or someone as the case may be, catches his eye. He quickly passes the bag off to Zimmermann and makes after the man.
“Exile… hey Ex, wait up!”
Exile seems not to hear him and already the door to the arena is closing behind him. KvK swears under his breath and jogs after him, throwing the door open and, seeing him turning down the hall, follows, calling to him again as he makes the turn, noticing too late that Exile has been drawn into the “good book” he always carries around. His forehead wrinkled from concentration, he nevertheless, makes the appropriate maneuvers and turns in an almost robotic way.
“How the fuck does he do that?” KvK mutters to himself before jogging on to catch up.
Exile comes to what is assumedly his dressing room. He opens the door and moves in fluidly just as KvK reaches him. KvK starts to speak but is stunned when he views a very curvy and hot blonde sitting on a desk in Exile’s dressing room.
“Hey how come you get one of th-”
Klaus stands stunned as the door comes back and closes in his face, effectively cutting off his words and a giggle emits from within. Turning, a bemused look on his face, he ponders the laugh as he makes his way to his own dressing room.
“Now where have I heard that before?”
The scene fades into the arena, and we are now live.
Vinegar: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to another exciting week of GIW action! And we promise you, this week we will have at least double the matches that we had at our pay-per-view.
Hanson: I still can’t believe I was replaced by a limey from Missouri.
Vinegar: That was only for one match, and if it makes you feel better, I’d rather commentate with you than Randrew.
DING DING!
Dennis: Ladies and Gentlemen, the opening contest is scheduled for ONE FALL!
Gimme Back My Bullets kicks in as Rigor Vaine makes his way out into the arena to a chorus of boos. His eyes are focus, set dead on the ring as he stands for a moment with his head covered in the good of the robe he wears. He then begins his stride to the ring, each step in time with the beat of the music before rolling into the ring and standing dead centre. He closes his eyes for a moment and begins to quietly talk to himself before pulling open the robe and dropping it to the ground. Legs slightly apart, he tilts his head to the ceiling of the building and begins to shout in Romanian before extending his arms at 10 and 2 o’clock.
The fans continue to boo him as the music dies down to almost nothing.
Dennis: Introducing first from....wait.....what the hell does that say? From some place in Moldova, weighing in at 279 pounds............RIGOR VAIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEE!
Vinegar: This match will feature the debut of two new additions to the GIW roster; Rigor Vaine and Exile.
Hanson: So is this guy like Russian?
Vinegar: No, he’s Moldovan.
Hanson:.....Where’s that?
Vinegar: Near Romania and Ukraine.
The cover of Hells Bells by six feet under starts to play. The lights dim with each tolling of the bell as well as any other speakers save for the music and the commentators mics. As the Guitar starts up a spot light goes to the entrance...with no one there. Continues...Spot light searches the ring. No one. From the audience themselves he arises, towering over the local ring side attendees. Jumping the railing he fights his way to the ring, knocking a few fans out of the way. He charges down Rigor and hits a huge clothesline as the bell is sounded to begin the match.
Vinegar: What a powerful clothesline!
Hanson: It only keeps that Moldovan dude down for a second though; he is right back up sand these two are just starring each other down
Vinegar: Folks, I should read out what the tape is for Exile. He is 6’5, 285 pounds. These two are the exact same height, and exile is about 6 pounds heavier. They are pretty even on the tape.
Hanson: While you were blabbing on about tapes, Rigor and Exile have just started a punch-up, Rigor getting the upper hand and sending Exile to the corner.
Vinegar: Thank-you Hanson. Rigor is definitely in control at this time. He lifts Exile up and places him on that top rope. Vaine climbing after him, and hits a huge superplex! Quick cover
ONE!
Hanson: And a kick out....too early for a cover greenie.
Vinegar: For once I agree with you, it is well too early to think he can be put away. But Rigor back into it with those vicious stomps to Exile.
Hanson: Oh wow, isn’t stomping a move we have never seen from a powerhouse before?
Vinegar: It may be a move that has been done heaps, but it is effective partner. Vaine picks Exile up, whips him to the ropes, and takes him down with a body slam. Now it appears that he’s climbing the turnbuckle, and he jumps off with an authoritive leg drop
Hanson: Hulkamainia from up high!
Vinegar: And look at that smile on Rigor’s face, he knows that he is in control of this match. He walks over to the opposite side of the ring and crouches down, waiting for Exile to get back up, he runs in, looks like he’s going for the Russian Roulette...
Hanson: HAHAHAHAHA! HE MISSED!
Vinegar: Exile with the wherewithal to move, and send his opponent through into that ring post. It looks like he may be in pain....I can’t tell.....his eyes are screwed up, but he’s smiling.
Hanson: I thought he looked like a guy who loves Bondage.
Vinegar:.....what?
Hanson: You know, where there’s that lady wearing a leather corset and they tie you up and torture you....it’s for pain addicts really...
Vinegar: Hanson, you are sick you know that?
Hanson: Whatever old man. Exile is unloading with those foot to ass type manoeuvres, whatever those are.
Vinegar: He’s kicking him.
Hanson: I knew that.
Vinegar: I’m sure you did. Exile now targeting Rigors possibly injured shoulder with those deep arm drags, now going for an arm bar and putting that knee into his back to add to the pressure......and Rigor is STILL smiling.
Hanson: See? What did I tell you? He’s a pain addict.
Vinegar: Vaine not going to submit, he slowly starts to get back to a vertical basis, and Exile dropping the elbow onto that hurt shoulder. Vaine grasping his shoulder as he turns into a devastating right hand by Exile!
Hanson: There is that dreaded fist to face move that is so prominent in his profile!
Vinegar: Exile going for the grapple now, Vaine breaks it up, AND HITS FROM MOLDOVA WITH LOVE! EXILE TAKING A HUGE SHOT TO THE JAW!
Hanson: He isn’t going for the cover; he wants to throw this guy.
Vinegar: Whip to the ropes, THE MOTHERLAND! Here’s the pin!
ONE!!!!
TWO!!!!
THREE!!!!
Dennis: Here is your winner, RIGOR VAIIIIINNNNNNEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!
Vinegar: Rigor Vaine winning in a gruelling match!
Hanson: Yeah how boring was it hey?
Vinegar: That’s not what I meant Dan.
Hanson: Yes it was, just admit it.
Vinegar: I was.....oh never mind, talking to you is like talking to a piece of concrete. Although concrete probably wouldn’t be as thick as you.