ACW Striking Distance: RipperCussions (c) v. The Bradleys

[The_King]

Semi-Main Event 1: ACW Tag Team Championships
Match Type: Tag
Stipulation: ACW Tag Team Championships
Time Limit: 40 Minutes (4 RP Cap)
RipperCussions (c) v. The Bradleys

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.
FOUR RP cap with all RPs due by Wednesday July 11, 2012 at 11:59 P.M. (Eastern). Good luck!​

 

[Pete]

Monday, 3.15pm

It is just another afternoon in the life of ACW wrestling duo RipperCussions. Making it a point of enjoying their week of R&R to the fullest, part-time fashion designer Jack Ripper and his best friend, Southern farmboy Darren Pesinger, are lounging about their New York apartment, doing nothing in particular. Jack busies himself with some designs for prospective RipperCussions t-shirts, whereas Darren divides his attention between the laptop on his lap and a crummy Hong Kong kung-fu movie, which has just started on one of the cable channels on the pair's television. He types a few comments into Facebook, then stops, transfixed, as a woman is shown 'beating up' four thugs, with blows that generally miss their mark by a good couple of inches. He straightens himself on the couch and begins to cheer, so loudly that his partner looks up from his sketches for a second:

Jack Ripper: What's all the racket about, Darren?

The cowboy slaps his knee:

Darren Pesinger: Gawsh durn it, Jackie! Lookit this bitch, beatin' up them jackasses!

Jack gets up from his chair and comes round to the couch, standing behind Darren as he appraises the movie critically:

Jack Ripper: C'mon, Darren! That is so fake!

The Southerner looks up at his partner, astonished:

Darren Pesinger: Wha'd'ya mean, fake?!

Ripper points at the screen, where people continue to overreact to clearly wide punches and kicks:

Jack Ripper: Look at that one! That one didn't even connect!

The cowboy, however, is scoffingly dismissive:

Darren Pesinger: Oh yeah?! Then how comes he fell like that? Ya don't fall like that 'less someone decks ya good, buddy!

Then, as the woman applies a judo takedown, he points triumphantly:

Darren Pesinger: See?! That's a hip toss right thurr!

Jack rolls his eyes, but decides to drop the matter, instead pointing at the computer:

Jack Ripper: What were you writing?

Darren turns the screen towards his best friend, so he can see the comments he just typed into Facebook. Jack analyses them for a second, then sighs:

Jack Ripper: Really, Darren...?

Pesinger bristles:

Darren Pesinger: What?! Them's bein' a bunch of assholes, so I'm replyin'! So what?!

Again, Ripper wisely decides to drop the matter, not wishing to sour their lazy day with an argument. He cannot, however, stop himself from pointing out:

Jack Ripper: By the way, you spelt "haters" wrong. It ends in "-ers", not "-az". And "jealous" has an "a" after the "e", and there's no "e" at the end.

Throughout all this, Darren has been staring at his partner as if her were crazy. Then, as the fashion designer concludes, he blurts out:

Darren Pesinger: What the HELL are you talkin' about?!

Jack Ripper: Your grammar! I was just correcting it, and...

The cruiserweight sighs:

Jack Ripper: ...you know what?! Nevermind.

The Georgian nods slightly, looking triumphant, and returns to his video. A few seconds later, however, he is interrupted by the new Kanye West single starting up on Jack's iPhone, indicating the fashion designer has a call. Ripper quickly picks up, and begins what proves to be a rather one-sided conversation:

Jack Ripper: Hello...? Oh...hey...good, thanks...you? ....What?! Um, yeah, I guess...give us like, half an hour? ...Where should we meet? ...OK. OK, that's fine. Bye.

As he hangs up, the fashion designer notices his partner staring at him intently, trying to figure out what is going on. Getting up from his chair, he quickly commands:

Jack Ripper: Get your coat. We're going out.

Darren seems surprised:

Darren Pesinger: Out? What for? Who was that?

Jack Ripper: It was Kerry. She wants to meet us in half an hour.

The cowboy frowns:

Darren Pesinger: What for?

Ripper shrugs:

Jack Ripper: Beats me. I guess we'll see when we get there. Now c'mon!

And with one quick grab for his genuine leather jacket and shades, the fashion designer walks out the door, his Southern partner following hastily behind.

 

[Pete]

Monday, 4.00pm

Darren Pesinger: Gimme a Big Gulp!

The young woman behind the counter frowns:

Girl: Excuse me, Sir?!

Darren repeats his order, spacing out the words a bit more, in case the problem is with his enunciation:

Darren Pesinger: Gimme a Big...Gulp. Y'all got Big Gulps in 'ere, dont'cha?

The girl is about to reply, but Jack Ripper is quick to intervene, before Darren can embarrass himself any further:

Jack Ripper: They don't have Big Gulps in here, Darren. This isn't the Deep South, and we're not at Wendy's. This is Starbucks. They only serve coffee here.

The cowboy, however, is not so easily swayed, pointing at the larger-size takeaway cups behind the, by now, amused barista:

Darren Pesinger: Well, if they ain't got Big Gulps, then what's them big-ass cups for, huh?!

The Starbucks employee is about to reply, but Jack steps in again:

Jack Ripper: Just let me handle this, Darren.

Then, to the girl:

Jack Ripper: Gimme a small skinny soy latte, no whipped cream.

The barista quickly jots down the order, then looks over at Darren again, with a slight smirk:

Girl: And for you, sir?

Defeated, the Southerner gestures vaguely, mumbling:

Darren Pesinger: Just gimme a coffee. A regular one.

Still with the same amused smile, the girl goes on to her next question:

Girl: And what size would you like, sir?

This further befuddles Darren, who flails about muttering for a few seconds, until his partner once again makes the save:

Jack Ripper: Get him a small regular latte.

The girl smiles at him again, then calls the order across to her colleague, who has also been listening in, amused. Behind the ACW Tag Team Champions, however, a long line of people is significantly less tolerant, displaying the famed New York temper as they spout a series of disparaging comments regarding Darren's rural origins. The Georgian turns around and begins to respond in kind; before a full-scale brawl can erupt, however, Jack grabs their two cups and yanks him away by the arm, towards the back of the establishment. Darren protests vehemently, but the fashion designer turns a blind ear, and continues to stride towards a table in the corner, where a blonde woman sits, a similarly amused smile on her features. Jack plops down next to her, slightly out of breath:

Jack Ripper: Hello, Kerry.

Kerry Buckingham, Editor-In-Chief for ACW.com, rises slightly to air-kiss the fashion designer. She knows better than to try to do the same to Darren, who is sulking in the next chair, and instead opts for a simple greeting. The Southerner mumbles something back vaguely, as Jack gets down to business:

Jack Ripper: So...what are we doing here? Care to explain?

Kerry Buckingham: Oh, yes, I suppose I *should* explain, shouldn't I? Well, the thing is... I've been thinking...and I reckon I should like to try my hand at being a manager.

Jackie, who had been taking a sip of his latte, nearly does a spit-take:

Jack Ripper: WHAT?!

Kerry is significantly more collected as she expounds:

Kerry Buckingham: Don't act so shocked, darling! I've been reading up, and all the greatest wrestlers had managers! The Mouth From The South, Jim Cornetto, Mr. Kodak... And there were quite a few women, as well! So I thought, you know, why not?! I have PR experience! I bet I could do just as well as any of them!

Jack considers this for a second, then asks simply:

Jack Ripper: But why us?

Kerry is once again collected in her response:

Kerry Buckingham: Well, it seems obvious to me, darling. You have a tremendous amount of potential. You have the looks, the ability...all you need to look like real Champions is a proper manager!

Ripper chuckles, jerking a thumb towards his partner:

Jack Ripper: Well, I could certainly use somebody to help me control *this* guy!

The journalist titters politely, then continues her pitch:

Kerry Buckingham: I wouldn't try to stifle you! I wouldn't tell you what to say, or do, or whatnot. I would merely put my expertise at your disposal. I could book your schedules, do some press liaising, that sort of thing.

This clearly gets the fashion designer's attention, as he now seems to be seriously considering the offer. As he ponders the terms just laid out by Kerry, the reporter concludes:

Kerry Buckingham: In return, all I ask is that you don't talk to anybody without consulting me first. And give me an exclusive article now and then. Does that seem all right to you?

The Canadian mulls the offer over for a few more seconds, then nods slightly, turning to his partner:

Jack Ripper: What do you think, Darren?

The cowboy, however, is still sulky, so Jack takes the matter into his own hands:

Jack Ripper: All right, Kerry. We accept.

The Brit smiles, lifting her cup:

Kerry Buckingham: Smashing. To the future!

Three Starbucks paper cups touching each other toast the start of a new era for RipperCussions. Then, very matter-of-factly, the journalist removes her iPad from her bag:

Kerry Buckingham: Right. How is your schedule for this week?

Ripper shrugs:

Jack Ripper: Dunno. We've got a couple of things...a press conference, and something else.

Kerry tuts:

Kerry Buckingham: Now, darling! First rule for success: always know your schedule. But it's all right, just bear with me for a moment...

The blonde whips out her iPhone and quickly makes a call:

Kerry Buckingham: Hello, John, darling? It's me...! Listen, could I possibly have RipperCussions's schedule for this week? Oh, no, I've just signed on as their manager... Is that a problem, dear? ...Oh, smashing. Can you text it to me? Ta!

A few moments later, the reporter's phone beeps with the relevant document, which Kerry promptly opens and perouses:

Kerry Buckingham: Hmmm...looking a bit empty...I reckon I could secure you an autograph session, if you wanted, and maybe a reception, with a buffet and drinks...perhaps at the Ritz-Carlton...? Oh, and a visit to a charity would be nice...we could do that on Thursday morning...

At this point, the blonde - who had been muttering half to herself - looks up to find two astonished faces gawking at her. With an airy chuckle and a wink, she states:

Kerry Buckingham: Like I said, darlings...welcome to the future!

(Standing permission to use Kerry. Special thanks to BDC for inspiration!)

 

[Pete]

Monday, 5.50pm

Kerry Buckingham (gasping): He’s been doing WHAT?!

Jack Ripper: I told him it was a bad idea, but he wouldn’t listen…

The ACW.com Editor-In-Chief turns her head to cast an astonished look at Darren Pesinger , who is sulking in the back seat of her Lexus, stubbornly looking out the window. The three are stuck in Manhattan rush-hour traffic, and Darren seems rather interested in the endless rows of cars on either side of them, not even looking up as Kerry addresses him again:

Kerry Buckingham: Darren, what is this about replying to criticism on Facebook?!

A few more minutes of silence ensue, after which the cowboy finally mumbles:

Darren Pesinger: They was bein’ jackasses, callin’ us queers an’ whatnot…

Kerry Buckingham: Still, darling, that is VERY bad publicity! That is not the kind of image we want to set at all! Do you realize you may be doing yourself a disservice by acting so rashly?!

Faced with such harsh criticism, the Southerner chooses to shut his two companions out again, clamming up stubbornly and causing the reporter to groan. She hits the horn impatiently, venting out her frustration on the stop-dead traffic:

Kerry Buckingham: Come ON! We’re going to be late here! Bloody MOVE!

As both Jack and a suddenly interested Darren stare at her in slack-jawed astonishment, the journalist doesn’t even make excuses for her outburst. Instead, she whips out her phone and makes a call:

Kerry Buckingham: Hello, John? It’s me. We’re stuck in bloody traffic. I don’t know how long we will be. Just hold the people there. Explain the situation to them. Would you? Ta. See you soon.

Just as the reporter is hanging up from the ACW General Manager, the line starts moving again. Kerry heaves a sigh, as she begins trying to change lanes:

Kerry Buckingham: Bloody FINALLY…!

Her usual, self-assured demeanour regained, it does not take the blonde too long to squeeze into a space on the next lane and, then, the next. After a few minutes of bobbing and weaving, the Lexus is finally able to escape the throng of vehicles, dodging gratefully into a less packed exit. As soon as they are free, Kerry steps on the gas, perhaps a bit over what would be prudent. No one complains, though, as they realize how important it is to be on time for their first press conference as an officially managed team.

From there, it only takes a few minutes until they are parking outside a swanky uptown hotel.

Ms. Buckingham makes full use of the valet parking, explaining their celebrity status to a doubtful-looking porter. Then, she ushers her two boys through the door, and announces them at the front desk. They get directed towards a conference room to their left, where a throng of journalists can already be seen waiting. Doing her best to shake her nerves and appear collected and professional, Kerry leads her protégés through the door and to the front of the room.

An indistinct murmur can be heard as the two men take their respective seats at the conference table, which is set up in front of a couple of panels with the ACW logo all over them. As soon as they are settled, several journalists pipe up, trying to get their question in before everyone else. This is where Kerry proves useful for the first time:

Kerry Buckingham: Please, please, ladies, gentlemen, one at a time! One at a time! The Champions will try their best to accommodate everyone!

This has the desired effect, as the hubbub dies down, allowing the blonde to choose who poses the first question. She appraises the room for a moment, then points at a handsome young journalist at the back:

Kerry Buckingham: You there, at the back….?

The young man stands up:

Man: Jack Kilburn, with Wrestling Daily. The widespread opinion about your match at Striking Distance seems to be along the lines of a squash. Most say the Bradleys don’t have what it takes to beat you, and that you’ll make short work of them. Your thoughts?

Jack ponders this question for a moment, but before he can reply, Darren jumps in, in his usual impulsive, abrasive fashion:

Darren Pesinger: Durn straight! Them Bradley Boys ain’t nothin’ but a joke! We…

The cowboy is interrupted by both Jackie and K-Bux throwing him censorious glares. Seeking to exact damage control, the fashion designer quickly takes the mic:

Jack Ripper: ...have a lot of respect for them, and we know we can’t just sit on our laurels and take this for granted. We may have favouritism, but the Bradleys are valid opponents, and they’ll be after our title just as much as anybody. And we will treat them as we would treat anybody.

Darren gives his partner a half-offended, half-disagreeing look, but whatever words he might have had for Jack are drowned out by another bout of haggling. Kerry once again gets the situation under control, as she points out the next interloper:

Kerry Buckingham: You, darling, at the front?

An older, distinguished-looking man – clearly an old school journalist – rises slowly from his seat:

Man #2: Henry Hawthorne, The Wrestling Inquirer. I just wanted to say that I have been watching wrestling for almost forty years, and you two are one of the best tag teams I have seen in action. You remind me of the old greats – the Rockers, the New Age Outlaws, the Road Warriors, the Guerreros… And now you’ve added the last master stroke, by engaging such a charming and attractive manager!

The middle-aged journalist smiles winningly at Kerry , who smiles back, blushing, and is almost too flustered to pick the next speaker. As for the boys, they are too humbled by the comparisons just struck by Mr. Hawthorne to say anything other than “thank you”. Not even the usually outspoken Darren has anything to add, instead looking like a schoolboy just singled out for praise by his attractive teacher. After a few moments, the situation returns to normal, and the Tag Team Champions’ new manager points towards another member of the press. This time, as she does so, she’s smiling:

Kerry Buckingham: RJ, darling…! So good to see you!

The young man now rising from his seat is none other than RJ Mackelroy , intern interviewer and journalist with ACW.com . He wastes no time in addressing the two wrestlers across from him:

RJ Mackelroy: Darren, Jack…there’s been a rumour going on backstage that you guys really wanted Starrdom Nation, and that you’re disappointed you didn’t get them this time. Is there any truth to that?

Darren is once again quickest to the mic. Buckingham and Ripper get ready for damage control, but this time the Southerner comes out on top:

Darren Pesinger: Durn right, we wanted Starrdom! Them’s a coupl’a jackasses, but we used ta have respect for ‘em! See the word there? “USED TA”. But lately, they’s been provin’ they’re all talk an’ no walk. We was hopin’ ta git ‘em in that ring an’ shut their mouths, but I guess we’ll ‘ave ta wait f’r next time!

The Georgian cowboy leans back on his seat, as his partner adds a few more words:

Jack Ripper: Yes, we’ve lost a bit of the respect we had for Starrdom. But we still respect them as athletes, and we’re sure that when we do get them, it’ll be just as good a match as all the other ones we’ve had.

RJ manages to get a second question in before anyone else can pipe up:

RJ Mackelroy: Do you think this new line-up will be as successful as the last?

Jack Ripper shrugs:

Jack Ripper: We can’t be sure. They haven’t shown a lot to make us believe as much, but time will tell.

No sooner have these words escape the young wrestler’s mouth that a huge chorus of shouted questions starts again. Once more, it takes Kerry Buckingham’s significant powers of persuasion to get things under hand, as she now calls for an intermission:

Kerry Buckingham: We are going to have a little break. We’ll resume in…let’s say ten minutes?

A different sort of murmur crosses the room, as the journalists begin to mill towards the corner of the room, where a table awaits with appetizing-looking drinks and snacks. The wrestlers themselves are not immune to the complimentary refreshments’ charms, as Darren in particular flies off his chair with a grateful comment:

Darren Pesinger: Hawt damn! Just in time! I was startin’ ta get a li’l hungry…

 

[Ben]

The Scene Opens outside the front door of the Bradley's Boy new apartment they just purchased in Yonkers New York. Waiting outside is Leroy Bradley, who has been staying at a local hotel, when the apartment has been getting remodeled. Billy Bradley has been overseeing the construction, and Leroy is anxious to come in and see what his brother has done. Leroy opens the door and is amazed by what he see's.

Leroy: Yo' gotta be kiddin' me.....Billy Joe getcher ass out hyar

Leroy continues to look around the apartment and wonders what the hell his brother was thinking and how he paid for all this. The new apartment is nothing like there old home, everything is new, and instead of lawn chairs there's actually real furniture, but even though it's nice it just doesn't seem like home to Leroy. He takes a seat on the white leather couch waiting for his brother Billy to show, when suddenly Billy makes his way down the stairs and into the living area. Billy is wearing a all white suite with white leather shoes, and blends into the apartment to the point that Leroy can barley see him.

Billy: Yo' like th' noo place brother?

Leroy looks around pondering the question for a bit, he doesn't hate the place but he really doesn't like it either. He doesn't want to hurt his brother's feelings though as it's obvious he's pretty excited.

Leroy: It's ok brother, it's not whut ah's used t'fum our old diggs in th' swamps, but it's nice.

Billy: It bess be nice brother, this hyar har stuff was the dawgoned-est fancy, high price stuff ah c'd find in th' sto'e.

Leroy knew all this stuff wouldn't come cheap, but he's been avoiding questioning his brother about it, once again not wanting to upset him. But he knows that the money from ACW isn't enough to cover all this and his brother must be doing something else on the side.

Leroy: Yea brother I've been meanin' t'ax yo' how we suppose t'be payin' fo' all this. ah knows we doesn't make this hyar much fum wrestlin', so yo' gotta be gittin' th' money somewhar else.

Billy: ah told yo' befo'e BROTHER doesn't wo'ry about no money. ah done han'led them affairs fo' years an' ah ain't nevah done us no wrong.

Leroy: Wal we ain't nevah spent this hyar much befo'e.

Billy appears to be irritated with his brother questioning him, and wipes his hand on his face, followed by a quick pace back and forth before taking a seat next to Leroy on the couch.

Billy: Brother ah got this hyar unner corntrol, ah reckon. Seems like yo' jest kin't injoy th' fack thet we is trimenjus time players in th' city now. Embrace th' change old fella.

Leroy still seems cautious, but decides to put it to rest before he causes any problems. He takes a look at the fancy apartment and decides he could get used to it over time, and to just trust his brother on this one.

Leroy: ah done give it a chance, it ain't home but ah's done open t'some changes.

Billy: Whuffo' doesn't yo' come on downstairs Leroy ah done got a present fo' yo'

Leroy gets down and follows his brother out of the apartment and down a flight of stairs to what appears to be a parking garage. They make there way towards the back, and there's a large tarp covering something big in the corner.

Billy: Yo' ready fo' this hyar brother.

Before Leroy can answear Billy pulls the tarp off the item, and Leroy almost passes out from excitment from what he see's

Leroy: Is thet th' god houn'dog general lee?

Billy: It's not th' real one but it's a replica.....an' befo'e yo' ax yessuh it was realy expensive.

Leroy has mixed feeling again, he's excited about the care, but continues to be worried about his brother's spending and source of the income. He thinks about just going all in and confronts his brother, but decides to wait it out a bit longer, the General Lee is his, and he's been doing a lot of worrying latley and now just wants to have some fun.

Leroy: Gimme them keys

Billy tosses the keys to Leroy as he jumps in the car through the window as the doors don't open. It takes him awhile to get in as he's a larger man, but eventually he makes his way inside, puts the key in and revs up the engine. Leroy backs the car up and does a burnout out of the garage filling it with smoke.
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