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Segment: Decade; Reserved for Decade and any guests he wishes to include
Topic Started: Jul 26 2015, 11:32 AM (138 Views)
BellZer
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My Watch Is Done
The Masked Man has asked Nahiro Koga for some air time. What could he possibly be up to?
Reserved for Decade to do what he has to...
Be sure to find out what!
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Posted Image
Season 7 of Razer's sig (January 18th - February 17th) results:
1st - Wrath/Joey/Pat 13
2nd - Raz 4
3rd - Ace/NM 3

Best shout of the sig award (season 7):
Wrath: that feeling when you lose a Skittle in a shag carpet
Pat: *Wrath resists urge to go digging for it*
Wrath: I FOUND IT! Now the question remains, do I eat it?
Nox: if skittes werent meant to be eaten off the floor, god wouldn't of given them a candy coated turtle shell

8th Sig! 17th February 2015 -????
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Canary Kid
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CLASH of the TITANS XI(segment takes place at the start of the show)
________________________________

SAGET: Ladies and gentlemen, singing 'Flower of Scotland'... please rise for Sheldon McGonagle!

Alone in the ring a suited man stands tall, wearing a black three-piece and a nervous smile. He twirls the microphone round in his hand, soaking in the claps from the Glaswegian crowd before the opening notes chime. The man, Sheldon McGonagle, looks a fine young chap; clearly no older than his mid-20s, a beautiful toothy grin, and a set of vocal chops to turn a nation envious. Even despite his heeled shoes, McGonagle is a tall bloke. His legs are akin to two tree trunks side by side, and his arms are gangly and long.

As the bagpipes begin to echo throughout the S.E.C.C., the many proud Scots in attendance clamour to their feet.

"O Flower of Scotland
When will we see
Your like again,
That fought and died for,
Your wee bit Hill and Glen,
And stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
To think again."


On the tron screen plays a collection of the most beautiful scenes around Scotland. The lush green scenery, the impressive mountain ranges, the romantic castles.

"The Hills are bare now,
And Autumn leaves
lie thick and still,
O'er land that is lost now,
Which those so dearly held,
That stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
To think again."


Sheldon is in his element. With thousands of proud blues behind him, McGonagle belts out the anthem like a warrior before battle. In every proud word, one can feel the heart McGonagle pours into it. The passion. The desire. A truly special anthem, for a truly special country, on a truly special night.

"Those days are past now,
And in the past
they must remain,
But we can still rise now,
And be the nation again,
That stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
To think again."


McGonagle, full of emotion, bellows out the final few words; eyelids firmly shut, raising his arms majestically. The crowd erupts into a patriotic explosion of cheers and applause, creating a beautiful climax to a very beautiful performance. The Scottish singer blissfully closes the song with a rally of ecstatic Glaswegians roaring their lungs out.

But within a literal second, the cries from the crowd change from a joyful frenzy to shock and fury. Before McGonagle could clock, a heavy right boot crashes into the Scotsman's back. As he hurtles forward onto his hands and knees, the familiar white ski mask begins to figure once more. By his side is his noted aide, adorned in her baggy camo jacket and boots.

BRUNSWICK: Oh what the hell, again? Who keeps letting this guy into the building?

SMITH: Well obviously, Josh, nobody knows who it is. They're not gonna stop people from coming in just to catch this guy, are they?

McGonagle, evidently not ready for a skirmish with a legitimate fighter, starts to bolt for the ropes. Yet the masked miscreant, a faster type of beast, is quick to the breakaway; he darts towards the desperate Scot and spreads his claws around the shoulders of the singer. He encloses his grip and diverts the Scotsman from his getaway, throwing him cruelly to the cold, hard canvas.

With the sound of his lady's enthused claps and the audience's ravenous booing, the masked assailant is spurred on to attack. His aggression is intensified as he dishes out a swift round kick to the seated Scot's head. The singer falls onto his side against the mat, rolling to a supine position with his thumping skull in his hands.

BRUNSWICK: This poor kid isn't even a wrestler, he's a god damn singer! A musician! What is this... awful disgrace of a human doing?!

The mysterious mercenary drops behind the Scot, snatching him by his moussed hair. With his left hand he pulls McGonagle's head up and back, squeezing his right arm underneath the chin. He clamps his hands together, trapping the gawky singer inside a reverse chinlock that, truthfully, few could expect him to evade.

SMITH: First thing's first Josh, the 'awful disgrace' you're acting like such a baby about has a name. That fine lady there introduced him as Decade, so give him the respect he deserves and call him by his name.

Josh lets out a few exasperated breaths at his colleague's words.

BRUNSWICK: Respect? Why on Earth should I give him my respect?

Josh may genuinely be onto something. With these vicious assaults on unassuming persons coming at such frequency, Decade is hardly going to be winning many fans in the organisation. What must be said though is he certainly is turning heads. The violence on display is becoming such a common sight already, and will no doubt begin to create panic.

The camo-jacketed lady crouches next to the chinlocked McGonagle, clinging to the very same microphone used by the sweet songbird. She begins to yap, truly humiliating the Scot as he begins to succumb to Decade's incursion.

LADY: Choke him out! I said choke him out! End him! That's it... you've got him! Choke him!

If he's even still in consciousness, McGonagle must surely be praying for help. But as his body begins to shut down, he begins to wonder if anybody would actually answer his prayers...

to be continued...
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Alice Harris
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Iceman & The DLT
It's a vicious attack, certainly unprovoked and clearly sending a statement to PRW. Whoever this man is, he certainly means business.

Brunswick: "If he's trying to send a message, we get it alright... Just leave him alone, he's already served his purpose!"

Smith: "No, his purpose isn't served... Whoever this guy is with that hot piece of ass with him... He wants to make sure this job is done"

Eyes growing heavy, breathing becoming more and more laboured, McGonagle is slipping from consciousness and the reaction of the crowd, openly hostile and very, very vocal only seems to be driving the assailant on further, increasing his unprovoked and uncalled for attack.

Brunswick: "No one has challenged them, no one has called them out or laid down a gauntlet to this man... This is sending a very worrying message folks... This place could soon become the land of the lawless if they aren't stopped!"

Almost as if it were taken directly from a screenplay for some action movie, right on queue there is a huge roar from the crowd. Running out from the back, down the ramp and making a beeline for the ring, Reese Lynch aka the Alaskan Wildcat and Iceman makes his presence known. Coming out slowly behind him, shouting for him to hold on is the Internet Champion, Alice Harris, Reese's long time friend.

Smith: "It HAD to be him didn't it? Whenever someone is being picked on, Reese comes running down to save the day!"

The presence of Lynch forces the assailant to release McGonagle from his grasp. As the performer's body limply falls to the canvas, the assailant and his aide back off slightly as Reese gets into the ring, sliding under the bottom rope and standing there, fists clenched and eyes burning.

Brunswick: "Looks like Reese has finally had enough of seeing this"

Smith: "Or maybe he just feels bad for idly standing by when Suerte went on her second rampage... He let her destroy those he saved first time round"

Whether it is guilt driving Reese to do this, the desire to simply do the right thing or simply throwing himself headfirst into a situation he knows sooner or later he will wind up in, it seems that Reese has now drawn the attention of the masked man and placed himself firmly in his crosshairs. Reese reaches behind him and upon seeing this action, the masked man goes to move forwards towards Reese. Seeing the advance, Reese holds his free hand up as if to say "hold it" before he produces a microphone.

Reese: "Look... I have no idea who you are, I have no care for what your ultimate end game is with the way you have made your presence felt... But what I do know is this... You're taking advantage, preying on the weak... And the last time people did that round here, they ended up going through tables"

The fired up Glasgow crowd lets off a cheer for Reese.

Brunswick: "Suerte, Mercer, Larry... All three victimised people and all three went through a table by the hands of Reese"

Reese: "So I'm gonna make this clear... I'm not here to fight tonight, I'm here to give you a choice... You can either carry on being an asshole, attacking people as you see fit to try and increase your notoriety."

Reese pasues for a moment.

Reese: "And since i'm a nice guy, I'll let you know what happens if you make that choice.... You keep doing the shit you're doing round here, I will find you and I will put an end to it. Just ask anyone what happens to people who think they can prey on those who they perceive to not be as strong as them..."

Smith: "Man, I hope Reese gets his ass kicked, this hero crap is starting to bore me now"

Reese: "... OR.... You can man the fuck up right now, take off that stupid mask and show us who you are... You do that, I won't kick your ass right now, I'll get Koga to set up a match and we settle it the real way, in the ring, one on one... You win, you carry on doing what the hell you feel like... I win... You back the fuck off and stop being a vulture..."

The crowd "ooohs" at the options Reese lays out.

Reese: "What's it gonna be guy?"

tbc decade
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<3 Mercer for the sig


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Canary Kid
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Reese Lynch certainly forwards an interesting proposition. The possibility of a legitimate match and an opportunity for the delinquent-in-disguise to prove his capabilities with a genuine contender. Members of the crowd lean forward, interest truly piqued. Decade turns his head towards his wing, gesturing at her with a left hand on her side and his right beckoning her. Through his ski cap's speak hole he whispers in her ear, met with the occasional affirming nod. They part, and the lady begins to jaw off at Lynch.

LADY: Excuse me, who are you supposed to be? I've seen your face.

She steps gently about the ring, her black boots humming around the canvas.

LADY: Basically... Lynch, is it? I heard that's your name... Mr. Lynch, all offence intended... we want you to get out of this ring, and walk all the way up that ramp and out of our sight.


REESE: I'm not leaving. You think your buddy there can just come in whenever he likes and shit all over people whenever he likes? That's not how this works... why won't he speak?

Reese stabs out his finger, pointing towards a bemused Decade as he speaks. His face contorts slightly at Lynch's enquiry; "really?"

LADY: Why should he have to? What does he have to gain from chatting to you? It's not worth the effort, papi!

SMITH: Did she just say 'papi'? Oh Josh my boy, oh my.

BRUNSWICK: Can you stop sweating next to me? Doug!

Twiddling with the microphone in his hand, Reese himself trudges around the ring. Licking his lips, his eyes squinted in concentration.

REESE: You.

He pins his eyesight firmly on the veiled man before him, lurching forward with his index shoved out.

REESE: I don't care what she wants. You're the one snaking around here! I'm giving you a chance here to actually prove your worth. Or would you prefer I kick your ass next time you even make a scene?

LADY: I thought I told you!

Decade's partner intervenes, practically shouting her own lungs out from her system. Her hands thrash about in the air as she comes face-to-face with the Iceman.

LADY: We're not interested in your stupid offer.

Lynch's eyes stay stuck in a glare towards Decade, scanning the few exposed spots on the mask for a semblance of identity. Who could possibly be creating such chaos?

LADY: You come out here with such a pitiful offer... no, you didn't even offer - you demanded! You seriously walked out here expecting to call shots? That's not how this works! We run this thing. Us.

The aide, with Decade marching behind her, begins to troop away from the confrontation, still chiding the Alaskan for his brief heroics. As the two saunter through the ropes and onto the apron, the lady swivels her head once more towards Lynch.

LADY: But... just know that this isn't over. You're next on the list.

With a stern-faced Alice Harris to his side, Lynch watches over the departing couple; nose rightfully upturned. The organisation has been cursed with a new infestation, a white-masked menace with complete disregard for pacification, and he is the one trusted to deal with it.

A new clash is born; one that might just rock the entire organisation.

fin.
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