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M12.5: "Pearl Harbor"; Reserved Segment
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Topic Started: Nov 15 2009, 12:03 PM (319 Views)
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Caje
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Nov 15 2009, 12:03 PM
Post #1
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IT'S STILL REAL TO ME DAMMIT!
- Posts:
- 6,555
- Group:
- Superstar
- Member
- #2
- Joined:
- June 14, 2005
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The following is for an anonymous member of the roster, to be revealed later on in the ppv.
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 PRW Record: 41-26-1
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Caje
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Nov 28 2009, 03:03 AM
Post #2
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IT'S STILL REAL TO ME DAMMIT!
- Posts:
- 6,555
- Group:
- Superstar
- Member
- #2
- Joined:
- June 14, 2005
|
The new champion stood, looking down his war-battered Italian teammate. He would have been sorrier had the patented Lion Merteuil ego not gotten in the way. To Lion Merteuil, the fact that he had just beaten the pulp out of his godfather and taken what Vincenzo Savonarola had worked for five years to earn was irrelevant; he had just silenced the naysayers again. The smarmy internet fans that doubted him were eating their words, dining on such cuisine as “he only got where he is because he’s his boss’ nephew” and “Lion Merteuil was a one hit wonder.” Lion was laughing now as he took his title from the referee and raised it in the air brashly. After a few seconds, the impact of what had just happened set in and he rushed to the side of his fallen Dynasty comrade.
Lion helped the Godfather to his feet. The old man rose slowly, falling into an only partially wanted embrace with his successor. Sure, he was happy that Lion had made it to the top again, but Vincenzo’s face told another story. He was angry. His time as champion had been cut short, like the hair on the front of a mullet. Still, he put his grievances aside, apprehensively shaking the hand of the man who had just beaten him.
Then, the vultures showed up.
----------------------------------------------------
It doesn’t take long at all for the newly formed Exiles, Garrick and Brown, to make their presence felt. Brunswick and Smith, who had been silenced by the awe inspiring moment taking place before, immediately shoot in with commentary.
Smith: Hutton Brown and Jason Garrick! Looks like business is about to pick up, eh Brunny?
Brunswick: What do these two want?
Brunswick doesn’t have to ask; with chairs in hand, it’s quite clear what the scavengers have come for. The two split when they hit the ring, as if to trap and circle their prey. Garrick takes the far steps by the announce table, Hutton the ones closest to the stage. They climb slowly, taunting the bruised combatants in the ring. Hutton begins to climb in first and immediately takes on a double team from the two men who invented PRW heeldom. Lion drags Brown through the gap in the second and third ropes by his underarms, pulling the Rated X superstar into the ring. Godfather turns around to take on Garrick, but the Don of PRW is too late. The new commissioner is ready and waiting, chair halfway through a swing. The back lands flush against the stubble on Vincenzo’s face, sending him in a spiral that lands him supine on the canvas.
Lion notices immediately and makes a move toward Garrick, but something is awry. Lion looks down to find Hutton wrenched tightly around his legs, making movement impossible. Garrick, staring down at his handiwork with the old timer, raises his eyes to lock with Lion’s. Lion knows what’s coming as Jason takes on a sadistic smirk and winds the chair back. At the last second, Brown delivers a low blow to the new champion, distracting him from the chair shot Jason Garrick delivers to his head soon after. Lion falls backward, landing on his shoulder. Garrick picks up the title and stares deeply into the engraved gold. It’s heavier than he remembered, but it feels good to have it back in his hands. He makes a play to pour salt into the wound, raising the belt and stalking the champion.
Brunswick: Oh come on! Lion just fought in a match!
Smith: That’s the name of the game, Brunswick. What you call cheap, these guys call making an impact.
Brown gets to his feet and stands beside Garrick, egging his partner on to hit the champ. Lion gets to his feet and Garrick begins running, BUT WAIT! Garrick is intercepted from the side by an enziguri by Alex LeBlanc, knocking the ten pounds of gold and leather into Garrick’s temple. He goes down hard as Hutton’s own attempt to intervene is cut off by the American Dolphin, who changes Brown’s consciousness status with a discus punch to the back of the head. Hutton falls to his knees, then forward on top of the prone Garrick. LeBlanc and Aries admire their work for a second before deciding their next move. As Aries checks on Lion, LeBlanc raises the hand of Brown and sets it down on Garrick’s glutes. LeBlanc and Aries laugh as Lion tries to snap Savonarola out of his daze. The Godfather begins to come to when familiar music starts playing.
Music that Dynasty is nowhere near ready to hear.
The music is that of At Horizon’s End. Wuher leads the pack of hungry wolves toward the ring, each sporting weaponry. LeBlanc and Aries arm themselves with the Exiles’ chairs, preparing for a fight they might be able to win if they time their shots right. AHE takes their time, knowing that while they have numbers, the two chair wielding men in the ring have the high ground. Just then, a mass of men begins sliding in from behind. Not to be outdone by their two rival groups, TEP has shown up as well.
Smith: The party’s started now!
Lion is able to hold off the rear flank, but only momentarily. He stomps Corey Russel and is joined by Godfather in stepping down on Tim Kage. Inquisitor backs up, gathering the attention of the two as Aries and LeBlanc look in the opposite direction, their eyes set forward on the impending danger from that direction. As IQ exchanges words with Godfather and Lion, Serial sneaks up on the other side, climbing onto the apron. He clamps onto the top rope and jumps, springboarding off into a plancha that takes out the two former Firm members. The sound and vibration of the canvas peaks the attention of LeBlanc, who turns around to find his teammates grounded and Serial helping his TEP allies. He taps Aries on the shoulder.
Aries: What are you doing? We’ve got a situation here!
LeBlanc: We’ve got a situation there, too.
Alex points behind Aries, who looks to see all four main members of TEP in the ring.
Aries: Oh. Shit.
The two men motion to swing, but it’s too late. The four on two face-off escalates into a four on two assault. Inquisitor rips the chair from Aries’ hand, tossing it outside. Russel and Serial follow suit on LeBlanc. Missing out on the action and clearly overdressed for the occasion, AHE drops their weapons and slides into the ring as Godfather, Lion and the Exiles get up. Suddenly, it’s four on four on four on two and everyone’s got a salsa partner. But there’s one more stepping out onto the floor, and his flamenco dress is made of steel.
Brunswick: The inside of the ring has transformed into a free for all!
Smith: I can’t tell if those are Aries’ fists or Inquisitor’s fists pounding Berren Blaze’s face in right now! Someone’s gotta do something about this!
Brunswick: Wait, Doug, look! On the tron, it’s Matt Caje! Matt Caje is here!
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Being in my street clothes, I wasn’t dressed to fight and I certainly hadn’t planned on it, but damnit if I wasn’t ready. My hands trembled as I clenched them around the chains I had just wrapped around the knuckles on my fingers. Both were at about a foot and a half in length and oddly brought about in me an apple pie and book by a fireplace feeling of home. I stretched out my hands to get them ready for the fight ahead. My adrenaline was pumping, fueled ever more by the ear shattering reaction from the fans. At that moment, I thought to myself, Brunswick and Smith were probably the loudest of all. As I made my way to the Gorilla position, I stopped long enough to pick up and fold a steel chair. It was me against the world and I fully intended to walk in with a stacked deck.
I walked through the dark room and through the curtain. No music played, but the fans grew even louder, announcing my entrance. A couple men took notice as I strolled out onto the stage and slammed the chair against the stage. I looked to the ring, knowing that what I was about to do was incredibly stupid. Still, I came to the arena to kick ass and chew bubble gum; and I had spit out my last piece of Fruit Stripe in the parking lot. I let out a primal scream and began down the ramp.
The first face I met was Jason Garrick’s. He rushed at me, only to take a chair to his stomach. As he doubled over I took the chair in one hand, punching him in the back with my other chain wrapped fist. I didn’t stick around to see if he fell limp, although he didn’t interfere with my leveling of Corey Russel to come. The rookie met me at the end of the ramp, where I swung. He dodged my free fist, but wasn’t expecting that I’d drop the chair and nail him in the temple with my left. I barely saw Russel fall, picking my chair back up and keeping on my warpath. I climbed up the steps, largely unnoticed by the crowd in the ring… and it was a crowd. I knew I had to open up a space if I wanted to get in the ring. I took the chair in my left hand, using my right to drop Aries with a fist to the face as he was running from an Irish whip by Tim Kage. Sean rolled out of the ring as Kage took notice to my presence. He ran toward the corner. I’m not quite sure what he had intended to do, but what I am certain of is that he wasn’t intent on me ducking his punch and hip tossing him over the rope onto the arena floor below. I climbed into the ring.
Ignored. It was the story of the last few years of my career. I stroked my chin, cleanly shaven for the first time in half a decade, and pondered where I should strike first. I decided that hitting MATTHEW from behind seemed like a good idea. I went for it, clubbing him with my forearm and sending him stumbling into the ropes. Hutton came in with the assist, using his momentum to send the former champion that he had been brawling with out of the ring. He turned around to find that it had been I who helped him. Brown had no time to react as I slugged him across the chin, sending him backward over the ropes. I felt someone brush against me and immediately threw an elbow back. I’d only find out later that it was Berren Blaze I had hit; a shot that nailed him in the chest. He fell over, wheezing. I thought for sure the person he was fighting with would come after me. I turned around only to find that either Godfather or Lion had moved on to helping the other beat on Inquisitor in the corner.
I ran at the trio, my chair swinging. I nailed Godfather in the back of the head, sending him to his knees. As he fell forward, I slammed the chair on him again, this time standing on it atop his now prone body. Standing over Lion, I grabbed him by his hair and delivered a sharp jumping knee to the chin. Merteuil popped back, staggering into the ropes. He was taken out by Inquisitor, who was met with a dropkick for his trouble by LeBlanc that send him over the rope. When Alex stood, I swung my chair again. The adrenaline was too much to bear. I tossed the chair toward the stands, throwing my metal soaked fists in every direction. Wuher, Serial, one by one they all began falling, rolling out of the ring if I hadn’t sent them over the ropes. I looked off to the side, seeing the announce table light up with screams of devilish delight.
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Brunswick: MY GOD! Caje is cleaning house!
Smith: I don’t know what he took, but I want some!
Brunswick: Whatever it is, it seems to be paying off. I don’t think I’ve ever seen CMC with this much pure energy.
Brunswick and Smith look on, excited but scared as Caje shoots them a quick glance. The madman looks upon his work, Daydream being the only man left in the ring with Mr. PRW. Knowing he’s outgunned, he steps out quietly at the urging of his peers, giving a brawl for the ages an anti-climactic ending. CMC turns himself toward his enemies, scattered about on the side of the ring. They begin to regroup, forming up at every corner. The camera pans out to show everyone, with Caje between PRW’s four factions. He’s seen turning every which way to keep any would-be attackers from re-entering the ring. With what seems to surely be etched into highlight reels for years to come, the iconic image of one man torn between four groups is led out by Josh Brunswick and the PRW production corner logo.
Brunswick: Ladies and gentlemen we’re out of time, tune in tomorrow night! For Doug Smith I’m Josh Brunswick, good night.
The scene fades out, ending the pay per view.
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 PRW Record: 41-26-1
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