07-15-2018, 09:26 AM
In the ultimate swerve, Karl had actually loaded the arena full of people. While the original vibe had been to create a joking reference to some indy, firehouse-style nonsense, a little ticket had changed the whole thing. Packed with somewhere above fifteen-thousand people, the arena seethed with anticipation—a sea of humanity dotted with cardboard signs, foam effigies of their heroes, and various beer and Pepsi vendors.
The squared circle would have been empty, save for the two men who stood at its center. One of them, a man in black trousers and a zebra-striped shirt, shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other. His shoes had a nice shine to them, and his belt buckle was likewise polished to the nines. He’d been told to ‘get ready for the show of your life’, and when he had the sitdown meeting with Karl, the older man knew why.
“You excited, Earl?” The man next to the referee inquired. “Karl really opted to pull out all the stops for this one. I figured I’d be singing in the lounge tonight… you know the one, over near Island 62?”
Earl shook his head. “Don’t know that one, Tony.” He didn’t bother to invest much in the world beyond his own personal realm. His life here was comfortable, so he had no reason to do the thing younger people did where they’d transfer from job to job in the company.
“Your loss, Earl,” the man smirked as he tapped the mic in his left hand. The feed was still off, but the audience knew what was coming—the tension in the air was palpable.
Outside the ring, the two announcer’s tables were likewise engaged in their preshow hype.
“Well, JR,” a sleazy-looking man in a king’s crown remarked. “You excited for this or what?”
The second older man, a fine gentleman in a cowboy hat, nodded his head without averting his gaze from the entrance ramp. “You know it, King. This is going to be one hell of a slobberknocker.”
The other announcer snickered. “Save the catchphrases for when the broadcast is live, Jim.”
“Oh shove it up your ass,” JR retorted playfully as the lights suddenly faded in the arena. A green light on the monitor told both men that it was go-time.
The music that followed the opening decree of the theme song blared across the arena. Men, women, and all sorts of other things erupted out of their seats in a thunderous applause as the titan among men emerged from gorilla position. Strutting out onto the platform, the Rock lifted his chin and slid into his pose. He breathed deeply as a little tear formed in the corner of his left eye.
His sunglasses, knowing their role, obscured any such emotional fragility as Dwayne strutted away to give his tag-team the space they needed to emerge.
That they did—Mickey Mouse and Yu Kanda—their eyes both showcasing a blend of surprise and awe as polaroids from the nearby audience members threatened to rob them of their site.
“Sunglasses, jabronis!” The Rock muttered.
Both primes were dressed in unbuttoned, black leather vests that were adorned with the image of the Brahma Bull. They sported matching elbow pads and trunks. From the waist down, they wore black knee pads and boots. As they fixed their sunglasses, the pair gazed at one another for a moment before nodding their heads and bumping their fists in unison. The trio descended the ramp—the Rock and Yu Kanda staring somberly ahead as Mickey waved to the crowd and occasionally jumped up to hug a young boy or girl.
From the ring, Tony lifted the mic to his lips. “The following match is scheduled for one fall.”
“ONE FALL!” The audience roared in anticipation.
“Introducing first… accompanied to the ring by the Rock—Mickey ‘the Pebble’ Mouse and Yu ‘the Slag’ Kanda!”
The crowd roared as the trio entered the ring. The Rock made a beeline for one of the turnbuckles, which he mounted as he chucked his fist up in his signature pose.
Yu stood adjacent to the ring announcer as Mickey ascended another turnbuckle and continued to wave to the crowd.
Back in the gorilla position, another trio stood in silence, waiting for their moment.
“This feels demeaning,” Whirda mumbled as she glanced down at the outfit. “Why is this a two-piece? You don’t have a two-piece,” she added as she glared at Yuuka. The older woman was indeed dressed in a blue and red singlet which allowed her to maintain a modicum of modesty despite the Pepsi-colored elbow gloves and Pepsi-colored knee-high boots.
“Just be happy they didn’t put us in heels,” Yuuka replied as she reached down and adjusted the brace that adorned her left ankle. She didn’t know why she and Whirda needed them, but their corporate sponsor insisted they match their manager, much like their opponents. They also had black vests that had angry, smoking skulls on their backs (skulls that were painted the colors of the Pepsi logo, of course).
Their manager—an angry-looking son of a bitch with a bald head—adjusted his vest and glanced over his shoulder at the pair of women.
“Stop flappin your gums,” he barked as a pair of secondaries rushed out toward the exit with a sheet of glass. “Before I open up a can of whoopass on you both.”
“Will that be as refreshing as a cold can of Pepsi?” Yuuka asked, eliciting a sneer from their manager. He even pointed a finger at her.
“I don’t hate you.” He muttered as he turned back to the class.
With a deep breath, the bald son of a bitch stepped right through the glass.
The Rock twitched as their opponent’s theme song played. The crowd erupted in a second wave of jubilation as the Great One craned his neck and watched that bald-headed rattlesnake bastard come stomping out onto the platform. His eyes immediately found the Rock, and a knowing grin spread across his sneering visage.
“And their opponents!” Tony the Announcer boomed as Whirda and Yuuka emerged behind their manager, taking some time to make sure they didn’t stomp on any of the glass shards that now dotted the area. “Accompanied to the ring by their manager, Stone Cold Steve Austin,” Tony paused for effect (as all good announcers do) while the ladies took up positions to the left and right of the beady-eyed Texan. “Whirda and Yuuka, the ‘Ice Cold’ Pepsi Sisters!”
The Rock descended the turnbuckle and put himself in front of his protégés as Stone Cold rolled into the ring. The Rattlesnake got right up in his old rivals face.
“Gonna stomp another damn mudhole in that soft, Hollywood belly of yers,” Stone Cold spat before shouldering passed the Rock and ascending the turnbuckle. The Texan hoisted a hand in the air, and if waiting for that queue, a can soared expertly into his waiting fingers. Stone Cold instinctively cracked it open but paused suddenly when he saw the label of the can.
“Pepsi?” The man’s beady eyes twitched as he remembered the arrangement he had signed. Stone Cold gonna whoop some asses after this is all said and done… Reaching out his other hand, the man snatched and opened up a second can. With his trademark scowl, he smashed them together over his head and chugged down the caramel-colored syrup slop. Once done, he discarded the cans and waved for another pair.
"Who is that guy, Rock?" Mickey whispered, noticing Dwayne's tensed posture.
The movie star glanced back at his buddy and frowned. "You have a nemesis, little pal? Someone who always seemed to get the best of you? Who always got under your skin? Who always took your title?"
Mickey twisted his mouth up as he mulled over his long history. "I had a job on the steamboat... the captain was not a nice fella. Always ordering me around and being a jerk. I foiled a bunch of his plots though."
"The good guys always get it in the end," the Rock muttered as he remembered his final triumph over the beer-swilling snake. "But this is the Omniverse... I should have known that sleeping dogs won't lie forever. Things like this make for good television."
Whirda and Yuuka stood next to one another on the right side of Tony and Earl, who were flanked on their left side by the other trio. Stone Cold joined the two women a moment later and joined them in a stare-off with their foes as the referee stepped forward.
“Standard rules,” he remarked. “No weapons. No silly business…” he glanced at each of the managers. “No interference. Otherwise, you’ll be DQ. Am I clear?”
“Yes.” The six primes remarked in unison.
“Good,” Earl remarked as Tony exited the ring. Stepping through the prime and toward the far side of the ring, the referee gave a thumbs up to the timekeeper. “Ring the bell.”
“Hey, Rock,” Stone Cold remarked as the ref walked away.
“What?” The Rock remarked.
“Austin 3:16 says your team sucks,” to accentuate his point, the Texan lifted both of his middle fingers.
The Rock puffed his chest and opened his mouth, but before he could get a word in, a boot smacked his gut and doubled him over. Stone Cold spun and hooked the Rock’s head over his shoulder, and with a grin, the Rattlesnake dropped to the ring. With a thunderous thud, the Texan’s crashed to the ring, and the Rock’s chin and neck slammed into his shoulder. The Great One was thrown backwards by the force, and even after slamming onto his back, there was yet enough momentum that he rolled onto his stomach and momentarily shuddered like a fish out of water.
With a laugh befitting a Texas Rattlesnake, Stone Cold gave the bird to Mickey and Yu before rolling out of the ring.
The bell rang out to start the match. The referee, seeing the prone form of the Rock, rolled his eyes and motioned for Yuuka to head to her spot on the apron. A beat later, he signaled for Mickey to do the same, leaving Whirda and Yu Kanda to square off among the heat of the lights and the roar of the crowd.
The squared circle would have been empty, save for the two men who stood at its center. One of them, a man in black trousers and a zebra-striped shirt, shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other. His shoes had a nice shine to them, and his belt buckle was likewise polished to the nines. He’d been told to ‘get ready for the show of your life’, and when he had the sitdown meeting with Karl, the older man knew why.
“You excited, Earl?” The man next to the referee inquired. “Karl really opted to pull out all the stops for this one. I figured I’d be singing in the lounge tonight… you know the one, over near Island 62?”
Earl shook his head. “Don’t know that one, Tony.” He didn’t bother to invest much in the world beyond his own personal realm. His life here was comfortable, so he had no reason to do the thing younger people did where they’d transfer from job to job in the company.
“Your loss, Earl,” the man smirked as he tapped the mic in his left hand. The feed was still off, but the audience knew what was coming—the tension in the air was palpable.
Outside the ring, the two announcer’s tables were likewise engaged in their preshow hype.
“Well, JR,” a sleazy-looking man in a king’s crown remarked. “You excited for this or what?”
The second older man, a fine gentleman in a cowboy hat, nodded his head without averting his gaze from the entrance ramp. “You know it, King. This is going to be one hell of a slobberknocker.”
The other announcer snickered. “Save the catchphrases for when the broadcast is live, Jim.”
“Oh shove it up your ass,” JR retorted playfully as the lights suddenly faded in the arena. A green light on the monitor told both men that it was go-time.
Quote:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1C-mdFXKyBU
The music that followed the opening decree of the theme song blared across the arena. Men, women, and all sorts of other things erupted out of their seats in a thunderous applause as the titan among men emerged from gorilla position. Strutting out onto the platform, the Rock lifted his chin and slid into his pose. He breathed deeply as a little tear formed in the corner of his left eye.
His sunglasses, knowing their role, obscured any such emotional fragility as Dwayne strutted away to give his tag-team the space they needed to emerge.
That they did—Mickey Mouse and Yu Kanda—their eyes both showcasing a blend of surprise and awe as polaroids from the nearby audience members threatened to rob them of their site.
“Sunglasses, jabronis!” The Rock muttered.
Both primes were dressed in unbuttoned, black leather vests that were adorned with the image of the Brahma Bull. They sported matching elbow pads and trunks. From the waist down, they wore black knee pads and boots. As they fixed their sunglasses, the pair gazed at one another for a moment before nodding their heads and bumping their fists in unison. The trio descended the ramp—the Rock and Yu Kanda staring somberly ahead as Mickey waved to the crowd and occasionally jumped up to hug a young boy or girl.
From the ring, Tony lifted the mic to his lips. “The following match is scheduled for one fall.”
“ONE FALL!” The audience roared in anticipation.
“Introducing first… accompanied to the ring by the Rock—Mickey ‘the Pebble’ Mouse and Yu ‘the Slag’ Kanda!”
The crowd roared as the trio entered the ring. The Rock made a beeline for one of the turnbuckles, which he mounted as he chucked his fist up in his signature pose.
Yu stood adjacent to the ring announcer as Mickey ascended another turnbuckle and continued to wave to the crowd.
Back in the gorilla position, another trio stood in silence, waiting for their moment.
“This feels demeaning,” Whirda mumbled as she glanced down at the outfit. “Why is this a two-piece? You don’t have a two-piece,” she added as she glared at Yuuka. The older woman was indeed dressed in a blue and red singlet which allowed her to maintain a modicum of modesty despite the Pepsi-colored elbow gloves and Pepsi-colored knee-high boots.
“Just be happy they didn’t put us in heels,” Yuuka replied as she reached down and adjusted the brace that adorned her left ankle. She didn’t know why she and Whirda needed them, but their corporate sponsor insisted they match their manager, much like their opponents. They also had black vests that had angry, smoking skulls on their backs (skulls that were painted the colors of the Pepsi logo, of course).
Their manager—an angry-looking son of a bitch with a bald head—adjusted his vest and glanced over his shoulder at the pair of women.
“Stop flappin your gums,” he barked as a pair of secondaries rushed out toward the exit with a sheet of glass. “Before I open up a can of whoopass on you both.”
“Will that be as refreshing as a cold can of Pepsi?” Yuuka asked, eliciting a sneer from their manager. He even pointed a finger at her.
“I don’t hate you.” He muttered as he turned back to the class.
With a deep breath, the bald son of a bitch stepped right through the glass.
Quote:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MrJLsNo9sCU
The Rock twitched as their opponent’s theme song played. The crowd erupted in a second wave of jubilation as the Great One craned his neck and watched that bald-headed rattlesnake bastard come stomping out onto the platform. His eyes immediately found the Rock, and a knowing grin spread across his sneering visage.
“And their opponents!” Tony the Announcer boomed as Whirda and Yuuka emerged behind their manager, taking some time to make sure they didn’t stomp on any of the glass shards that now dotted the area. “Accompanied to the ring by their manager, Stone Cold Steve Austin,” Tony paused for effect (as all good announcers do) while the ladies took up positions to the left and right of the beady-eyed Texan. “Whirda and Yuuka, the ‘Ice Cold’ Pepsi Sisters!”
The Rock descended the turnbuckle and put himself in front of his protégés as Stone Cold rolled into the ring. The Rattlesnake got right up in his old rivals face.
“Gonna stomp another damn mudhole in that soft, Hollywood belly of yers,” Stone Cold spat before shouldering passed the Rock and ascending the turnbuckle. The Texan hoisted a hand in the air, and if waiting for that queue, a can soared expertly into his waiting fingers. Stone Cold instinctively cracked it open but paused suddenly when he saw the label of the can.
“Pepsi?” The man’s beady eyes twitched as he remembered the arrangement he had signed. Stone Cold gonna whoop some asses after this is all said and done… Reaching out his other hand, the man snatched and opened up a second can. With his trademark scowl, he smashed them together over his head and chugged down the caramel-colored syrup slop. Once done, he discarded the cans and waved for another pair.
"Who is that guy, Rock?" Mickey whispered, noticing Dwayne's tensed posture.
The movie star glanced back at his buddy and frowned. "You have a nemesis, little pal? Someone who always seemed to get the best of you? Who always got under your skin? Who always took your title?"
Mickey twisted his mouth up as he mulled over his long history. "I had a job on the steamboat... the captain was not a nice fella. Always ordering me around and being a jerk. I foiled a bunch of his plots though."
"The good guys always get it in the end," the Rock muttered as he remembered his final triumph over the beer-swilling snake. "But this is the Omniverse... I should have known that sleeping dogs won't lie forever. Things like this make for good television."
Whirda and Yuuka stood next to one another on the right side of Tony and Earl, who were flanked on their left side by the other trio. Stone Cold joined the two women a moment later and joined them in a stare-off with their foes as the referee stepped forward.
“Standard rules,” he remarked. “No weapons. No silly business…” he glanced at each of the managers. “No interference. Otherwise, you’ll be DQ. Am I clear?”
“Yes.” The six primes remarked in unison.
“Good,” Earl remarked as Tony exited the ring. Stepping through the prime and toward the far side of the ring, the referee gave a thumbs up to the timekeeper. “Ring the bell.”
“Hey, Rock,” Stone Cold remarked as the ref walked away.
“What?” The Rock remarked.
“Austin 3:16 says your team sucks,” to accentuate his point, the Texan lifted both of his middle fingers.
The Rock puffed his chest and opened his mouth, but before he could get a word in, a boot smacked his gut and doubled him over. Stone Cold spun and hooked the Rock’s head over his shoulder, and with a grin, the Rattlesnake dropped to the ring. With a thunderous thud, the Texan’s crashed to the ring, and the Rock’s chin and neck slammed into his shoulder. The Great One was thrown backwards by the force, and even after slamming onto his back, there was yet enough momentum that he rolled onto his stomach and momentarily shuddered like a fish out of water.
With a laugh befitting a Texas Rattlesnake, Stone Cold gave the bird to Mickey and Yu before rolling out of the ring.
The bell rang out to start the match. The referee, seeing the prone form of the Rock, rolled his eyes and motioned for Yuuka to head to her spot on the apron. A beat later, he signaled for Mickey to do the same, leaving Whirda and Yu Kanda to square off among the heat of the lights and the roar of the crowd.
Quote:Word Limit: 900
Posts: 2
Time Limit: 48 hours
Random Elements: On
Damage Meter: Off
Time limit starts at 12 pm CDT on July 15, 2018
[spoiler]
“Squared Circle” – The Fight Area is a 20-by-20 wrestling ring and the ‘ringside’ area surrounding, including the empty announce tables but not the ramp down to the ring (image below). Unlike most stadium-themed Fight Areas, there’s a crowd for this one. They have cardboard signs and will cheer, chant, and jeer throughout the contest. Inside the ring is an NPC. He is a plain, middle-aged white man wearing black pants and white-black stripped shirt. He is a referee. Intentionally doing him harm will get your team disqualified (gasp).
This is a special contest that pits two teams against each other, but only one member of each time can be ‘legal’ at a given time. The teams will tag in and out as the match progresses, until one team can score a ‘pinfall’ by pinning an opponent’s shoulders to the mat for a three count. The other way to win is by putting your opponent in a submission hold and making them ‘tap out’ (give up) or by knocking them out for a referee’s ten count (either in the ring or outside of it). The referee must be there in all those instances, so make sure he doesn’t get knocked out (they’re brittle). Primes who are ‘legal’ may leave the ring, but you have only until a ten count to re-enter before you are counted out and lose.
Underneath the ring are various weapons your prime may use, which include: steel folding chairs, folding ladders, folding tables, metal trash cans, fire extinguishers, a 2x4s.
The two primes who are not ‘tagged in’ must remain standing on the outside on their corner of the ring, although if you are feeling heelish (bad guy), you can slip in to help your partner or go ambush the other prime outside of the ring. The referee won’t let those shenanigans go on for more than a few seconds, so don’t get disqualified.
Stipulations: At the end of each post (or the beginning of the next one, in the event of a Super being used), the prime who just posted must ‘tag out’ of the match. Contest also includes extra weapons for Primes. These weapons and the Primes Weapon Moves are “illegal” and can only be used when the referee is out.
Image: https://ringthedamnbell.files.wordpress....04/raw.jpg
![[Image: KarlSig.jpg]](http://omniverse-rpg.com/images/KarlSig.jpg)