ACW Adrenaline 5/21/12 PWA VS ACW MAIN EVENT SIX MAN TAG

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BDC

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Zack Bronko and the Lunatic World Order
VS
SYN; ACW Heavyweight Champion and Drew Alexander and Eric Snow; ACW INTERNATIONAL CHAMPION!



If you are not in this match, don't post in this thread. If you are in this match, don't spam it up with OOC talk.
Only SIX rp cap for each team (2 each for the ACW and 6 total for the PWA) with the deadline being May 18, 2012 at 11:59 PM Eastern Time.
Show will be up by Sunday the 20th (no later than Monday the 21st morning) Good Luck!
 
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BDC

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NOT on my watch...

I could never stomach losers; much less losing myself.

March 15th, 2012; Phoenix Arizona; the site of what was to be the PWA Warehouse Arena

As I sat there in the rain, after getting the call from Ressa, I couldn't help but get nostalgic. It had been a year since I had taken the title in an elimination chamber and simply walked away. That was the single most difficult thing I ever had to do. But I had promised my wife Nikki that I'd take time off from wrestling as soon as I took the title. I needed to spend time with my five year old, Matthew; give him a chance at the father I never had.

But the PWA had given me my life back. Everything had fallen apart in 2009, Nikki had left me and, to top it all off, I thought I had blown my knee out; DAMN CAGE MATCHES. But the day I was released from the hospital after the surgery, Bomber was there waiting for me. Ya see, Bomber was the owner and CEO of Powerslam Wrestling and he was building a small empire. I had heard of him, but really wasn't interested. I had months of rehabilitation ahead of me and didn't even want to THINK about getting back in the ring. Then he started dropping names; DJ Bratt, Max Ripper, Sting. But he had me at MAX KNIGHT. I'm not going into it here, but we had history; some good, some really bad. Needless to say, I was in.

Back to reality; Back to 2012. The rain was pounding a rhythm in my head much like a funeral march. I could see the fancy PWA signs dismantled and in the process of being packed up. But where the hell would they go from here? All that success, the thousands upon thousands of fans, it all seemed so wasted; all flushed down the toilet by that weasel, Eric Bischoff. I instantly moved on. Dwelling on that scum only made me want to tear something apart with my bare hands. Then, I noticed that someone was still inside the unfinished arena. I got out of my sedan and walked through the rain to the door. The man coming out suddenly got as white as a sheet. Then, he calmed down a bit.

“Oh, Mr. Bronko, what are you doing here? I mean, they told you, right?â€

It was Ray, one of the security guards. I knew this guy well. He was married with about six kids and a couple of grandkids. They all depended on him to support them. What now? Where would he go?

“It's Zack, Ray. Just Zack.†I answered and I held out my hand, “Yeah, they told me. Hey, could you write your number down. I got a gig coming up and I may be able to bring you on.â€

Ray's eyes lit up as he shoke the larger man's hand, “Really? Man, that would be great. I mean, wrestling was my life before my back went out on me. Working here made me feel apart of it again. You gonna start it up in Phoenix again?â€

I laughed at the irony, “No, Ray. New York.â€

The man's hope drained from him, “Oh, that's a bit too far to commute.â€

Ray laughed nervously. I hadn't thought of that. I felt like such a tool.

“Sorry, Ray. If things change, you'll be the first I'll call.†I replied as he handed me the paper with his number. “Hey, could you let me in for a while. I mean, you can go on home. I just want to visit some old ghosts, ya know?â€

Ray seemed hesitant, “Ok, but it's my ass if …â€

“I'll behave myself, Ray. Wouldn't do that to you, man.†I answered.

He turned and left; closing the door behind me. It seems that was all life was to me; a series of closed, locked doors. My childhood, my life, my career in the MMA and Wrestling; it was all behind me and there was no going back. Well, maybe not wrestling. I still had a few chapters to write there.

Which brought me back to the ACW.

Ressa had sent me some bios of the top talent there. Never heard of any of them. But I've learned to take each and every opponent seriously. Will be prepared for walking into the ring with these guys. Cause I'll be damned if PWA is gonna die on my watch.

Yeah, I could never stomach losers, but I have respect for the dead. The PWA will rise again; if I have to go through each and every one of these ACW guys to do it!​
 
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BDC

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The Rich should eat their young!


aycutie.jpg

Can't tolerate stuck up little rich kids; Snow's gotta go!

March 15th, 2012; Phoenix Arizona; the site of what was to be the PWA Warehouse Arena

I sat there in front of the poster with Max Knight's pius puss on it and remembered calling him after Bomber hired me into PWA. It had been a couple of years since we had run together in Long Beach. Me, Knight and his best bud, DJ Bratt, ran the show there in Cali for a while. Both these ring rats had come up off the streets. But both had been born into some money. Bratt had went legit street and learned how to defend himself, although he was a small guy; consummate crusier-weight. Knight, a generic wrestler bod, had learned to manipulate, plain and simple. It was kinda the opposite of what you'd expect.

But, like I said, they were both born to money. Bratt had walked away from it; content with sleeping on the streets if necessary. Max Knight never got over losing access to his dad's money. Everything that came out of his mouth was all about winning this or beating that guy. It was no different when we both started the PWA. And it wasn't long till he started making waves.

A few weeks in he walks out during the main event and shoots the ICON, STING with a t-shirt cannon!! As he was coming out, I caught his arm.

ZackBronko.jpg


“What in the HELL is wrong with you, Max? That was Sting!! He has like the biggest contract in the PWA right now!â€

Max sat the cannon down with that impish look in his eyes as DJ, who was jumping around like one of those damn bouncy balls.

Bratt answered as Max just kept smiling, “Well, duh!! Ya gotta go after the biggest fish if you're gonna get noticed, right?â€

I ignored DJ, “What in the hell? Biggest fish? Really, Max? You're gonna get yourself fired!â€

He just put his hand on my arm and reassured, “Come on, Bronko. Ya gotta make a few waves, right? Anyway, I bet the Stinger knows my name now.â€

DJ was shadow boxing by now, “Yeah! That'll teach the old coot!!â€

I tried to bring them back to reality, “Yeah, that 'old coot' pays the bills around here. If it wasn't for him, PWA wouldn't be a blip on the damn internet!â€

Max got real serious and leaned into me, “He's holding us back. I'm tired of the old croney network and the damn nepotism. I think it's time for change. I think it's time for a REVOLUTION.â€

As the voice of Eric Bischoff can be heard yelling 'MAX KNIGHT', the man who called himself THE SHIZZ (because he believed himself to be the end all of wrestling) smiled a wide smile as if vindicated.

He was right and it ate at me.

From there, he won the ten man over the top rumble and proceeded to hold the Undisputed not once, but five times in two years. He wore the I BELIEVE IN THE REVOLUTION theme out over the next six to eight months. DJ tagged with Heath Slater and held the tag titles for almost that long. He dominated the PWA. And, me? I jumped on as part of the REVOLUTION. I took the International and the North American and actually held them at the same time. But I never held the Undisputed until he was off the scene.

When he started the REVOLUTION, it was about GOOD WRESTLING. Clearing house and making sure the strong survived and only the best, most entertaining wrestlers stood tall. By the time the PWA closed down, it was known as a bunch of bullies and thugs. Was that what we were back to? Beatdowns and Makin' waves? It's not what I signed on for. Claressa equated the Revolution with the PWA; the mecca of good, old school wrestling. She said that the 'elite' of the ACW were holding the rest of the company back and that it was Phoenix herself that was the front of the problem.

Reading over Snow's resume, It wreaked of spoiled little rich brat. I watched his promos and my blood boiled. Here was the same cocky rich kid I had learned to hate from the PWA; HELL, from most of my life. Snow had so many qualities that reminded me of Max Knight that I just couldn't wait to tear him apart. I couldn't believe he won the International title! I wanted so bad to go after it, but Ressa saw bigger things for me. Still, can't wait to get my hands on that pompous little ass. He may not have access to his dad's money, but he's still a whiny rich bitch to me.

Don't mind people with money; just can't stand their kids.​

OCC: Didn't wait around for you guys. Didn't see much point in it. Feel free to piggyback. :)
 
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BDC

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Writin' Checks and Checking Balances!


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I've fought my share of bad-asses in my time. Trouble is things get a little messy when it's time to pay for the checks your mouth's been writing.

I spent most of my life living up to that name. I guess that's why my first promoter tagged me with the nickname BADASS. It labeled me. It put a target on my back. Everybody and their brother wanted to prove themselves against me; prove that I wasn't what I said I was. I hated him for that. Looking back, I should have thanked him. Cause once they announced me in the ring, it was me that had something to prove.

I was having a rough time proving deserving of the name my first few months in the PWA. I had taken a few loses and Knight and his Revolution had helped me get my first title. Wasn't feeling real BADASS, to tell you the truth. But we were ruling the roost. There wasn't a wrestler or faction that could stand against us. Eric Bischoff had grown rich booking us there in the Warehouse in Phoenix, Arizona. The fans loved to hate us. And Bischoff loved counting the money. He started pulling in bigger names. I mean, we had injured Sting, but he turned around and pulled in names like Orton, Ken Shamrock and BROCK LESNAR.

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Yeah, Lesnar. He was in the middle of the MMA thing and the little toad, Bischoff, thought it would sell tickets to our version of Wrestlemania (our first) to bring him in against me for the International Title, since I had a background in UFC. Eric was building a faction on his own he called The Regime and was pushing an angle of us verses them. For the most part, the Revolution embarrassed him at every turn. I was finally going to get the chance to prove my name.

I remember the fake weigh ins and the staged press conferences. Lesnar wasn't taking it serious and I knew I could take him. Underestimate me. Go ahead. I dare ya.

The night of the championship match, I was ready; or so I thought. I felt Brock had taken me lightly and, in turn, I guess I never took him seriously either. I mean, it looked like he was just going to show up for the check and go home. What he showed up with was a new manager: Claressa King.

He was planning to stay a while in the PWA and he had been training harder than ever before. The attitude had been a ruse. He had me the moment I walked into the ring. That was my first dealing with Ms. King. She had played me perfectly. Announced to the world that Zack Bronko had a long way to go to be BADASS. I almost gave up. Being humiliated like that. I had done a lot of talk; as wrestlers do. Now, I was proven a fake; a liar. Then, somebody (not that I think of it, it was that stooge, Billy Young!) planted steroids in my locker and got me put on suspension. I thought it was over.

I knew I hadn't touched the stuff. I was all natural. And it was Max Knight and the Revolution that believed in me and proved me clean. I decided right then and there that I wasn't going down like that. I got back up and trained like a madman. I walked back into the ring a few months later and took MY belt off of Lesnar. Claressa came to me, not long after that and appologized. It was almost a year before I accepted her appology. But I didn't need her sentiment. I had proven to everybody that Zack Bronko had EARNED the name BADASS!

Sometimes, I question why I hooked back up with Claressa King and Billy Young. But it's not about them or what they did way back when. This is all about proving the PWA is what it said it was; the up and coming Professional Wrestling Hit! If you will...The NEXT BIG THING. Just like I had to prove myself time and time again. Just like I PROVED to all who was the BADASS. The PWA can't die. Not on my watch.

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Lots of checks being written with some very big mouths out there (Drew Alexander). That's fine. Talk on. Soon, the bank's gonna be checking accounts and Zack Bronko's gonna close your ass down​
 

Ben

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[video=youtube;KFfCKy0nKr0]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFfCKy0nKr0[/video]

The song stops and Eric Snow makes his way into the club that is hosting his after party, dressed to impress with the International Title Belt over his shoulder.

Snow: The Champ is here, bitches, and the drinks are on me.

A loud cheer breaks out from the crowd as Snow makes his way through the crowd high fiving fans, as he makes his way to the VIP area and takes a seat.

Snow: Damn it's good to be me right now, I'm the champ, I'm fighting off beautiful women left and right, and my Pops stopped be a stingy bastard and opened up the flood gates to my trust fund.

Snow leans back in his booth taking a swig out of his Scotch as three beautiful women make there way into the VIP section.

Snow: Hello Ladies.

The three girls giggle as they move closer and try to take a seat next to Snow.

Snow: Hold on one second girls, as much as I would like to take the 3 of you home tonight and have the Eric Snow version of a Fatal Four Way that's just not going to happen. I hate breaking hearts but I can only pick one of you fine ladies to spend the night with.

The girls seem a bit confused and one of them seems to be offended as she storms out of the VIP area

Snow: Well that makes my choice a bit easier, I wasn't going to pick her anyways, pretty sure she had a glass eye.

Snow's attention immediately turns to the other 2 ladies

Snow: Ok so I'm going to throw out some questions here, try to keep up with me. Answer the questions in the order, I give them and take turns. Ready Set Go.....What's Your Name? Where Do You Work? Do You Have Any Kids?

Girl #1: Becky.....Bartender at Lucky's.....I have a 3 year old son.

Girl #2: No....Candy.....I work At Hooters


Snow: Candy you answered the questions in the wrong order....Becky's the blonde your suppose to be smarter than her.

Candy: You like want me to answer again? Maybe I'll get it rightr this time?

Snow: Nah, your good....you win by default cause you don't have any kids and you work somewhere that I can get free wings and potentially bang your co workers

Candy smiles as Eric Snow Calls her over to sit next

Snow: Ok Becky you can fuck off, go home and change some diapers.

Becky: Your an asshole

Snow: You have stretch marks.

Becky storms off as Eric gives his attention to the date for the night.

Snow: Think I'm ready to leave, ever been in a BMW, Candy?


Candy: Only in the back seat.


Snow: Think I made the right choice tonight.
 

BDC

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Freaks belong in the Circus!



April 1st, 2012; Leaving the New Mexico State Penitentiary on Hwy 12 in Sante Fe, New Mexico

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I couldn’t believe I was driving a van full of lunatics AWAY from prison. I remember trying to tolerate this nutjob clown in the PWA. He made life miserable with all the practical jokes and bad jokes. On top of that, his adopted wards were nearly uncontrollable. But here I was, driving them to the airport to fly them to New York to represent the PWA. Zack was beginning to think he had lost HIS mind.

Suddenly, Wisecrack appeared between me (Bronko) and Claressa up front!

“So! The ole gang back together! Just like the good ole days! Hey, Highway 12! Now that’s an omen!!†Wisecrack blurted.

I almost lost control of the damned van!

“For cryin’ out loud, ya stupid clown! Sit down before ya cause us to wreck!†I demanded.

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Claressa seemed intrigued, “OMEN?â€

The cracked clown laughs, “Yeah! New Mexico became a state in 1912; same year the Scott South Pole expedition all died and the Titanic sank!â€

I couldn’t believe I was having to be taught history by a clown, “Dear Lord!â€

That didn’t stop the lunatic from going on, “Also the birth year of Eva Braun, Hitler’s mistress, and Henry Armstrong; who was born in December 12, 1912! That’s 3 twelves! A hat trick!â€

I couldn’t help it, “Who the hell is Henry Armstrong and why should I care?â€

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Claressa chimed in, “Zack! I’m disappointed. He was arguably the greatest fighter ever. Held titles in more than three divisions and held three championships at one time!â€

Wisecrack finished, “Well,to be fair, THE RING magazine ranked him number two behind Sugar Ray Robinson, but, if you asked me, it’s just because the boy got more press.â€

I couldn’t take it anymore, “Good God!! What does that have to do with anything?!â€

The wicked little clown smiled a big smile, “12, son. Simple as that. The end of the world and such. It’s 2012 ain’t it?â€

“So?†I asked not really wanting to know the answer.

“Twelve’s the magic number. AND to hear Claressa dear talk…there are twelve of us.â€

I looked at Ressa and she nodded. Damn, this clown gave me the creeps.

Wisecrack turned and looked back, “Hey! Don’t eat that soap!! It has sentimental value!! If not for that soap, I woulda never had that first date!!â€

As the clown disappeared into the back of the van, I tried to tell myself that what I was doing was worth putting up with these morons. To save the PWA and get it back on the air and, THEN, to shove it down Eric Bischoff’s throat!! I would do almost anything.

After sedating the psychotic twins, we boarded the small twin engine Claressa had booked.

I had to ask, “How are you affording this kind of ride, Ressa?â€

Suddenly, as the hatch opened, Lord Peter Vycious popped out!

VYCH.jpg


“Claressa dear and Zack old friend! AND…†He suddenly stopped.

Wisecrack tipped his imaginary hat, “Winchester Isaac Cracks, at your service!â€

Vycious didn’t know WHAT to say. I didn’t know whether to take that name serious, but decided I didn’t care. We boarded and took off. I was glad to see Vycious. He was usually a together kinda guy. But he seemed overwhelmed with Ressa and the moment to be thinking clearly.

I took the chance to look over some of the videos and write ups on the ACW superstar with one name, SYN. I hated one name guys who kept their identities hidden. Idiots running around with painted faces and fake names; playing at lunacy. At least, with these ‘clowns’, he knew the insanity was real. With this SYN guy, he had yet to prove he was who he said he was. Kinda like me proving the nickname, BADASS. Who was the man behind the paint? Only one way to find out; drag his painted ass into the ring and beat it out of him.

SYNgreen-1.jpg


Freaks belong in the circus, and I’ve got a whole three rings to deal with!
 
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Ben

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Eric Snow wakes up after a night out celebrating his International title victory, he looks over and see's a buxom brunette next to him about to wake up.

Girl: Morning babe....you have a good time last night?

Snow: Well my back hurts and the headboard has a crack in it so I would say it went pretty damn good.

Girl: So what's for breakfast....I'll cook.

Snow: Yeah...I kind of got a busy day ahead of me...but if you leave now you should be able to make it to McDonalds before breakfast ends.

The girl gets out from under the sheets completly undressed and makes her way over to the dresser to find her clothes from the previous night.

Snow: (Mumbling) Damn I wish I had someone to high five right now...that's a nice piece of ass.

Girl: You say something Eric?


Snow: Just wanted to let you know that your clothes are on the dresser and the front door is downstairs.

Girl: Why you trying to get rid of me so quick?

Snow: I would love to spend the day with you but I've got a full slate of important man stuff to do today.

Girl: You're going to call me right?

Snow: Of course I will.

Girl: Promise?

Snow: I swear we will definitely be seeing each other again.

The girl now fully dressed makes her way over to Snow gives him a kiss and makes her way out of the bedroom and through the front door.

Snow: There goes another one, shame I'll never see her again, prob should of gotten her name.

Snow makes his way over to his office and calls his agent to see what his match is for the next show.

Snow: Holla at your boy Dre...need some good news, who's the first guy I get to beat this week to build my legacy.

Andre: Yea man there's some bullshit going on here, with all these PWA guys showing up there's major confusion and your in the main event, but it's a 6 man tag match.

Snow: Your fucking kidding me...I could give two shist about these TWA guys, shouldn't they be concentrating on protecting the airports of America.

Andre: Bro, I think you misunderstood me there, I said PWA not TWA.

Snow: Either way I don't give a fuck, they sound like a bunch of nobodies to me and there screwing with my airtime already, so I'll deal with it.

Andre: So your tagging up with Syn and Drew Alexander.

Snow: Yea I can deal with that, granted I'm scared Syn may kidnap and torture me in some abandoned warehouse, but it gives me a chance to see his style up close. Will help me down the line when I'm gunning for his title.


Andre: Bust out your laptop bro, gonna give you the names of your opponents in a email and you can check them out for yourself, I've got some other deals I'm working on for you.

Snow: Sounds good, deals mean money for me and 10% for you.

Andre: Ok bro I'm out

Snow: Talk to you later.

Snow makes his way over to his other desk and grabs his laptop opening it up and checking the email that Andre had sent to him about his opponents.

Snow: So first up we got The Lunatic World Order.

Snow browses through all there information, taking time to read every word of there bio.

Snow: So basically I'm taking on two twins who may be illegal aliens....so far not to impressed.

Snow opens up the next email and once again browses through the bio reading every word of it. After he finishes he lets out a long yawn and closes the computer.

Snow: "Zach The Bad Ass Bronko, no nonsense ass kicking machine with little patience with the drama queens" Seriously that's what this guys bio says. Once again not impressed, guy looks like a typical biker douchebag, that I could probably get to take a dive for a bag of meth.

Snow gets up from his desk, and makes his way into some clothes to go work out in.

Snow: Granted I don't need to work out to beat these guys, but they already have gotten under my skin and I don't even know them. Plus the illegals might have wonder twin powers and that's something I need to prepare for. Plus no one comes into ACW, my house and tries to take shit over.


Snow makes his way down the stairs and to the front door as he stretches to prepare for his run.


Snow: I need to work out all this anger, think I may still be drunk to since I've been talking to myself for the past 10 minutes.



 

BDC

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Where are my damned M&MS??

We see the halls backstage of the Mayfield Convention Center through the lens of a portable camera. It's almost show time and people are busy getting things ready. As it passes some of the talent, the cameraman seems to be heading for somewhere in particular. Suddenly, out of one of the many rooms scattered in the back, out pops the painted face of one WISECRACK.

Wisecrack.jpg


Wisecrack: THERE you are! Well, get your ass in here! You're late!

The camera follows the cracked clown into the locker room to see El Loko bench pressing an ungodly amount of weight and Maddog is playing Left4dead 2 on his Xbox.
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Wisecrack: Heads up guys, we gots company!

Maddog reluctantly puts down the controller and spots his twin, El Loko; putting the weight back in place without much strain. They join their manager, mentor and surrogate father in front of the camera. Wisecrack takes his place in the center; leaning forward on a long cane. He's wearing his favorite purple pinstriped suit. His 'boys' take their usual places on either side.

Wisecrack smiles: Good Evening. My name is Wisecrack. At least, that's what my momma called me. I'm not sure if it was because I was always 'crackin wise' or her horrendous crack habit. Oh, well, doesn't matter! I thought just polite to introduce ourselves and tell you a little bit about ourselves. I mean, we know so much about all of you. Not that we've been stalking the ACW fans or anything. I mean, that would be illegal.

The clown looks uncomfortable for a moment and composes himself.

Wisecrack: My boys and me have been all over the world exposing all to our wrestling prowess. Jointly they've held tag championships in every company they've been a part of. And, between them, they've held around 15 separate singles titles. Their most notable runs were in the underground South American fight clubs. Oops! I've said too much about that. They also competed in the AAA AND the CMLL. And I belonged to the NAACP, the PTL and the AARP. Ok, now that I know my ABC's, next time wont you sing with me! HA!!

The LWO manager stops a little shaken and pulls himself together.

Wisecrack: My point? My point is that they may be Lunatics, but they know what they're doing in the ring. AND they are the most cohesive unit in tag team wrestling to boot. Hell, they're so in tune that they finish each others sentences. You still can't understand a damn thing they say, but...well, they do, I hope. Point is they're in tune with one another. They're twins, dammit! They rode together in the same uteral low-rider for nine months. Talk about your ultimate clown car!! HA!

Wisecrack calms down and clears his throat.

Wisecrack: All I'm saying is I dare you to not take us SERIOUSLY! Go ahead. Laugh it up. I mean, usually, I wouldn't give my opponent fair warning. They'd be laughing all the way to the ring. Then, my boys would hand them their asses and kick their teeth down their throat. So, there's only one thing to do to prevent that from happening to you, ACW.

The weird clown steps forward and gets right up in the camera.

Wisecrack grins wickedly: Don't bother showing up...

Suddenly, the cracked clown catches sight of something off camera.

Wisecrack blurts: Oh, for cripes sake!!

He grabs a bowl that seems to be full of M&Ms.

Wisecrack: I told you people!! Only brown M&Ms!! Dammit! What kind of operation are you people running here?

He stops and glares into the camera:

Wisecrack: This kinda thing wouldna happened at PWA.

After giving a rather seriously amused look, he breaks into smiles again!

Wisecrack: Whatev!!! Laterz, people! Oh, and shout out to my Twitter Homie, Brandon Banks! Peace out, homeslice!

As the cracked clown strikes a gangster pose, his boys throw up gang symbols and look all thugish; mugging for the camera.

LWO2-1-1.jpg
 

MaNonTheMoon

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The Scene opens with Syn exiting the hotel he was staying at in with a duffle-bag in and, wearing a Black label Society t-shirt, faded jeans, and a pair of sun glasses. Kai was coming back to the states from Japan today after , and, being the “Good big brother” that he was, he was going to pick him up along with his new disciple, Jin. He begins to walk towards the parking lot, when he hears someone calls out to him.

???: Yo! Syn! Wait up!

Syn turned around and rose a brow as a young man (Well, younger than he himself) sped down the steps and came to a stop next to him. He was a few inches smaller than Syn, and didn’t appear to be over the age of at least 18. This was Jin, Syn’s new recruit. He was an ideal addition to Syn’s little brood of the Outcasts and Martyrs: he was virtually alone in the world (like he and his other Disciples), in desperate need of guidance and acceptance (Something Syn is more than familiar with, due to his own past), and had an enormous amount of potential. But unlike Kai, who showed very little, if any signs of emotion, or Alisyn, who seemed to be calculating and observant most of the time, Jin wore his emotions on his sleeves and was very easy to read for Syn. Whether it was due to his age or not, Syn had no desire to find out. Syn didn’t spare him a second glance as he continued to walk towards his car.

Syn: I told you to be ready an hour ago, Jin.

Jin gave Syn a sheepish grin as he tried to keep up with his new “leader”.

Jin: I know, I kinda got distracted by that re-showing of the Pay-Per-View.

This made Syn slow down for a moment as his mind drifted back to the pay-per-view. He hadn’t given it much thought beyond the countless meetings and gossip going around backstage about the events that took place. He had won The World Heavyweight Championship and gotten sweet, sweet vengeance upon Christopher Flair. But less than 5 minutes into his reign, chaos breaks loose, and names from a federation he had thought had long since been dead had stormed the ring and attempted a hostile takeover. In his point of view, it was his ideal way to start off his second title reign. Syn continued to ponder these new development as he opened the door to his car and got in, started the car, and peeled off as he and Jin drove to the airport.


Jin: Syn, do you mind if I ask you something?

Syn gave the teenager a curious glance, but otherwise motioned for him to continue as he continued driving.

Jin: What are you planning to do about the whole PWA thing?

Syn gave no outward reaction to the question, causing Jin to continue.

Jin: I mean, you always seem to have a plan for something like this. I was just wondering what it was this time.

Syn still didn’t give a reaction as he turned and made his way onto the freeway, before he gave a dark chuckle.

Syn: Jin, I’m an individual who has a firm belief that knowledge is power. With the tiniest shred of knowledge in my hands, someone like me, if left un-attended to, is a very DANGEROUS person. So, after we pick up my dear younger brother, I’m going to find out a few things about ACW’s new guests and perhaps a few people under ACW’s banner as well.

At the last sentence, Jin shot Syn a confused look.

Jin: You don’t trust people in ACW?

Syn snorted.

Syn: I don’t like, much less trust people in general, young one, but that is beside the point. I know that there are several people in the company who either were affiliated with PWA at one point in time, or they know what type of threat they pose. I hold no loyalty towards ACW by any means, champion or not, but I refuse to allow myself to be caught off guard.

Jin just nodded in acceptance of Syn’s answer as they drove the rest of the way in silence as the scene faded out.

---------------------------------------------- (30 minutes later) ------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Scene opens with Syn pulling into the airport parking lot, Jon looking a bit annoyed and Syn was twitching slightly in agitation.

Syn: I. HATE. Traffic jams.

Jin nodded in agreement as they exit the car and walk towards the airport. They enter the building and had to go through security and a metal detector.

Security guard 1: Please empty all objects from your pockets before stepping through the detector.

Jin went first, taking his Cell-Phone out of his pocket and placed it into a container, before stepping through the machine. He made it without the machine beeping, and quickly got his phone. Now, it was Syn’s turn. Syn emptied out his pockets, and was very aware that the security guards, as well as Jin, were all giving him a strange look: He pulled out a cell phone, several switchblades, a sharpened pencil, a piece of paper, and his keys and placed them all in a small container.

Security Guard 2: That’s a lot of sharp objects to be carrying around.

Syn turned to the guard and gave a very false Sheepish smile, fully intending to lie through his teeth.

Syn: Er, I like to make sure that I’m protected at all times.

Security Guard 2: I can see that with the switchblades there. But why the extra sharp pencil?

Syn: (Shrugs) I’m an insomniac sir. I write a lot in the night to relieve the stress I feel from not getting enough sleep. The, uh, note there should be enough proof of that.

The guard looked suspicious for a moment, then reached down and picked up the note. Keeping his eyes on Syn, he unfolded the note and handed it to the other security guard who started to read it. Syn waited as the guard reads over his note, and then looks up.

Security Guard 1: It’s clean. It’s only a list of songs.

The second security guard continues to eye Syn suspiciously, and then sighs as he motions for him to go through the detector. Syn walks through and gets no beep, retrieves his things (Again giving a false smile at the guard, who was still eying him), and walks with Jin over to seats that were near the terminal to wait for the plane to land.

Jin: When should Kai be landing?

Syn turned around in his seat and peered over his sunglasses a bit

Syn: in several minutes, depending on the flight.

Jin nodded as Syn pulled out his cell phone and looked through it, before raising his eyebrows as he saw that he was scheduled to compete against several PWA wrestlers. He gave off a very dark smile as he saw who it was he would be facing.

Syn: Ah, it seems as though things get more interesting.

Jin was confused by this, but let it go as a few moments later, both he and Syn look and see that Kai’s plane has pulled in and landed. They wait as the passengers disembark the plane, and, finally, see Kai get off of the plane, carrying two suitcases. Syn hops up and goes to greet him.

Syn: Welcome home, little brother. I trust that you’ve had a good time?

Kai just gives Syn a nod of acknowledgement, as well as Jin, before the three go to leave the airport. They load all of Kai’s luggage into the trunk, and get into Syn’s car. Syn started the car, and then drove off onto the highway, on their way to the next city as the scene fades to black.