Match SIG No Salvation - TV Title Battle Royal

[Roadster]

The following contest is scheduled for one fall!...and it is battle royal for the SIG Television Championship.

Trevor (@Trevor) vs. Feroz Gazsi (@Roadster) vs. Edward Pearson (@Nick) vs. Nate Savage (@Jimmy King) vs. Shinji Tsukada (@Ethan Hunt) vs. Zealot (@TMBS)

The rules are as follows:

-Only competitors can post here
-Titantron entrances and on-topic pictures are allowed.
-The first promo must be posted within 24 hours.
-There is a 1 promo limit.
-Voting will then last for 24 hours after the last promo is posted.

Voting for yourself will result in instant disqualification and a 2nd degree suspension
Please don't post during the match. If you need to post, it must be short and important.​

 

[TMBS]

The unexpected theme of the RWK legend, Hall of Famer and European champion is suddenly heard. The stage fogs up with smoke as Dick Fagget rises up from the smoke with his arm raised as it holds cup of lean. He stands atop the ramp with a big smirk, dressed in a full black adidas tracksuit as he then chugs his foul mixture down if a couple big gulps. He takes a deep breath of fresh air as he slings the cup into the crowd.

God damn that shit is good. I'm fucking wired, I gotta get this over with quick before I die of blue balls. Now I know what you are all wondering. Why is the great Dick Fagget out here right now. I'm not even contracted after all. But don't worry, I'm just here to enjoy the show like the rest of you, and boy is it gonna be wild. Speaking of wild...

Dick turns around and grabs a water gun as he begins to spray down all the women in the nearby vicinity who all shriek in defilement. Dick lets out a sick laugh as he starts air humping. He then unzips his jacket and gives it a twirl before throwing it in the face of people in the crowd. Dick pulls out a camcorder from his pants which is covered in odd white stains and leafs. He starts recording the girls as he then shouts out.

Are you ready? for The Zealot!

As Dick finishes his hype intro, he dives off the stage into the crowd while recording. The mass of fans all try to run as they see the sweaty half naked fat man dropping through the air like a collapsing building. Dick slams hard into the face of dozens of hard, paying fans as he mangles there bodies.

Smoke once again piles up on the stage as The Zealot finally makes his way out.



Zealot now rises up from the smoke wearing a Bee like attire. He stands there until @0:26 where he marches straight down the ramp looking oddly focused. He climbs straight up to the apron where he spins around looking at the fans where he slowly raises he hands, holding them above his helmet, before he quickly rips it off and throws it away. He snarls as he exposes himself to the sea of strangers who all snap pictures of him. Dick is seen chasing several of the women around the arena in the back.

You stand there taking pictures of me. Like I'm an animal... Maybe I am, but when the bull sees red he feels rage. I do not feel rage. I simply know that things are going to get messy. You don't want pictures of the horrors to come. You want mops and buckets for the blood. Pans and brushes for the teeth. Coffins and body bags for the fallen. Because my friends, The Zealot has finally arrived.

Change your plans. End your goals. Quit your careers.

That is if you don't want to find out what my boot tastes like. That's if you are not scared to fail, scared to get hurt...

Zealot sits cross legged in the middle of the ring as he starts twitching.

My father was a bad man... He seemed perfect on the outside, but that's the thing about monsters. They don't have horns, scales or sharp teeth. No, the real monsters are just common men. The real monsters are the people you think you can trust. The people you think you can love. The people you think you could care for.

My father didn't beat me. No. He never even noticed me. Some would say I got it easy, but its the mental scars that sting worse than the physical ones. My father was no more than the cause of my creation. He was nothing more than my father.

Zealot turns around and snaps at someone, but he is the only one in the ring.

I am telling them the story so they can understand! So shut your mouth and wait your turn!

He then sighs as he takes a moment before carrying on.

Where was I...
I never saw love in my fathers eyes. But I did get that monster to see fear. I looked into his eyes one night, after I kicked him right in the face and I saw fear! After so many years I finally managed to get my revenge for a lifetime of neglect. It was that day he really did regret making me.

That was the day I made my father pay...

Why am I telling you all this? Because after tonight, I will see fear in the eyes of every other man in this company. I will see horror and terror. I am the spawn of a monster, so what does that make me? Am I an animal? Or am I even worse?

I didn't master my craft for respect, for honor or for money. I mastered the martial arts so that I could kill the very man that made me. I turned my broken and pointless life and smelted it into a new. I took the shattered glass and turned it into steel. I am a weapon of harm. A harbinger of pain and suffering.

I wanted to make sure I come out here first so I could warn you all that you might not be prepared for what is to come. I came out here first to warn you all. You and those backstage. When you step out from that curtain I am not waiting for you to say your piece. The second you step out I will begin to pick you apart. I will play with you like a cat playing with its food. I will kick you right in the skull and your face will cave into your brain.

Your teeth will roll down the ramp and I will gather them up. I will build a memorial from your teeth and bones. Why? Because the voices keep telling me too. They say I am not capable. The same voice my father had. The voices drive me mad. They make me angry. And tonight, I prove them all wrong.

You can run. You can hide. But The Zealot has already come. And so has the onslaught of misery and suffering. ​

 

[Trevor]

The familiar baseline hits in the SIG arena for the very first time. The guitars blast on and Trevor makes his entrance in his ring attire holding a microphone. Trevor enters the ring without making a grand or spectacular entrance at all so he can begin his speech.

Supreme. International. Grappling. When the writing was written on the wall for me to take my intellectual property to Supreme International Grappling, everyone began to wonder what I had in the works for this go around. Could it be Charles? Could it be a new Raynor? Would it be Trevor Raynor making his return? When people think about me they think about big ideas, an epic entrance, some grand master plan. But, what usually happens is someone puts a stop to my momentum and I disappear only to come back whenever I feel like giving this wrestling thing another go. I've done this same routine so many times that by now that when that Sabbath baseline hits the fans just roll their eyes. They understand no matter how grand my entrance is, all i'm going to do is come down to this ring and make empty promises. I’ve been in this business for nearly 5 years and not once have I been able to put gold around my waist. I’ve been bread for every title, division, and main event. I’ve even been promised to be handed championships by those that run the company, but the gold still finds a way to elude me. What really pisses me off the most is that I see guys come in here with their monster-personas, they claim that they’ll take my soul, haunt my dreams, even flat-out murder me and for some reason it’s decided that those un-original, costume wearing nightmares are the ones that deserve the top spot over me. My vision for professional wrestling isn’t a horror show, it’s reality. So when it came time to decide what my “gimmick” will be here in SIG, I opted out entirely. I am Trevor and the only promise I have this time around is to be the realist thing to ever happen to Supreme International Grappling. I may or may not become your inaugural Television Champion, but at the end of it I'll still be Trevor. I won't morph into a masked demon or a dream invading lunatic to get the mindless drones that run these federations on my good side. The fans want something real and that's exactly what I am.

​

 

[Roadster]

I'll try posting today, but feel free if you want to, and haven't.

 

[Jimmy King]

The opening sound of Shinedown's "Cut the Cord" rings out through the arena and as soon as the song kicks in Nate Savage steps out on stage. He coldly stares out at the fans that give him a resounding round of boos and soon he makes his way down to the ring, snarling at fans that get too close and even mocking some before entering the ring and being handed a microphone signaling for his music to fade out.

First off allow me to address the elephant in the room, and no I'm not referring to that creep that is chasing around helpless women in the back. I've had people questioning my decision to compete in not only the SIG World Championship match, but this match as well for the SIG TV Championship. I shouldn't have to explain my motives but seeing as how most people are too dense to understand I suppose that I have no other choice.

He pauses for a moment, quickly glancing at the two men in the ring.

You see, I'm a man that seeks out glory. No matter what it takes I strive to achieve that glory, by whatever means necessary. I do this not only for me but for my family in order to provide a better life for them, a life that I was never given as a child. I also do this because I feel like I am worthy enough to be in this position, more worthy than either one of you or the other three that have yet to come out. I deserve this opportunity more than anyone else in this company. I deserve to be the one that makes history by becoming the first ever SIG World and TV Champion on the same night. You people may not respect me for whatever reason, though after tonight when I win both of my respective matches, you'll have no other choice but to respect me as much you may not want to because I'll have done something none of could ever dream of doing.

He pauses once more, allowing that to sink in.

Now, even IF I don't win my SIG World Championship match, at least I'll have this to fall back on. You see, I'm always thinking one step ahead of everyone else, when all else fails I'll have a back up plan. IF I'm unable to win this match, well then this will all be for nothing but I have no doubt in my mind that I can win this and the SIG World Championship, and it doesn't matter who I have to go through...

He points at The Zealot, who glares back at him.

I thought what I was facing in the World Championship match was bad, but that guy that introduced you may have that clown Omega Dredd beat in the freak department. You think that you can intimidate me with all your talk, saying what you'll do to my body when in reality you don't understand that I fear no man so you talk all that spooky talk that you want but none of it makes a difference. You think that you're sick? Do you have any idea what I'm capable of? I've broken men's bodies. Hell, take for instance my mentor Clint Shepard, a man who took me under his wing and a man that I once looked up to. I realized none of that mattered and I didn't need him anymore, his usefulness had worn thin so I tossed him to the curb. I broke him in half and left him damn near crippled, so what makes you think that I won't do the same to you?

He turns to Trevor.

Now you, well you certainly can talk because that was one long drawn out sentence. You didn't even stop to catch your breath. Though I can tell you right off the bat that you put these people to sleep with all of that mindless drivel that to spewed out. You can cry and complain all you want about being in this business for so many years and never winning any gold but these people still don't care about you so you might as well do us all a favor and just quit now while you're ahead. I see it in your eyes though, you won't quit. You won't stop until you claim that gold around your waist for all to see. I guess we do share that in common, we both share the same goal but the difference is that I'll be the one walking out of here with the gold while you're left empty handed so get used to it kid.

He turns to the entry way.

Like I said before it doesn't matter who I have to go through whether it be one of them, or Feroz Gazsi. An old school, no nonsense kind of guy. I like that about you Feroz but don't take that as weakness and don't think that we're friends because we're far from it. You can try as you might to keep me on the mat but I'll get right back up and keep on fighting until there's nothing left. Don't test me boy, I know how you work and if you think you can outsmart me you better think again.

Then we have Edward Pearson, a man who thinks highly of himself and believes to be of superior intellect. That's all well and good Eddie, but like I said to Feroz if you think you can outsmart you better think again. All the book smarts in the world aren't going to help you in defeating me. You come from Pittsburgh, well I come Philly and while we do come from the same state that doesn't change the fact that I'm looking forward to wiping that smug smirk off your face and knocking those pearly whites straight down your throat!

Which leaves me with Shinji Tsukada, Mr Red-Light...whatever that means. You see yourself as a party boy, a ladies man. Well this is one party that is you're cordially invited to but I can assure you right now that it won't be like one of those raves that you're used to. Oh no, Shinji I'm going to show that it's not all fun and games in life, I mean business and I'm serious when I tell you right now I'm going to beat you senseless. You can bring your little girlfriend out to ringside with you so she can witness first hand you getting the beating of a lifetime at my hands.

He looks back at the other two once more.

That goes for anyone else that thinks they'll get in my way of achieving ultimate glory. No one is going to stop me from getting what I want because this is my time!

With that he tosses the microphone aside and waits for someone else to come out.​

 

[Roadster]

The lights slowly fade into a golden blanket across the crowd as the crowd goes dead silent for the arrival of Feroz Gazsi. He steps onto the stage slowly wearing a polyester "Iran" jacket. He jogs down to the ring, and tags a few hands on his way down. He climbs the steps, walks across the apron, wipes his feet and enters the ring. He is handed a microphone and he stands right where he entered. He takes looks around at the three men in the ring. He takes a deep breath and lets out a smile as he looks at the crowd.

Feroz: Thank you everyone, thank you for this great reception in my debut. I'm here in a sea of humanity facing off against some of the best in the SIG undercard. This is a dream come true, but the only blemish on this memory is the barbarians standing in this ring. Strutting around, acting as if they're high and mighty. You aren't high and mighty until you've done what I, the Conquering Lion, have done. I've traveled the world, put the wrestling world on notice. Trained in multiple countries, competing on multiple continents, showcased my artistic talents all across the globe to enter this promotion and fall into the ring with a roster of ingrates and untalented, shortsighted "tough men" trying to one-up eachother with talk.

Feroz starts pacing around his side of the ring.

Feroz: I'm not here to talk. I'm here to wrestle. I'm here to chew you up, throw you out and pin you down. Nobody in this match is a match for me. I'm a monster among men. I'm a machine built and programmed to wrestle the life out of anybody unfortunate enough to step into the squared circle with me. I'm not here to talk. I'm here to make art. That art will be a still-life painting of mangled bodies and a man-...a lion holding the SIG Television Championship up, in the center. This isn't a warning, this isn't big talk, this is a preview. I'm here to preview the figurative murder that will be happening in this ring. Trevor, Cage, Pearson...it doesn't matter. The Conquering Lion spares no one in the face of glory, he's here to win and here to show why the New King will be taking his rightful crown.

Feroz looks directly at Zealot.

Feroz: While preparing for this mass murder, in the confines of this ring, I hear Zealot on a tangent about his animalistic, or lack there-of, qualities and the abuse, or lack there of, his father bestowed upon him. Zealot, I'm not your father, so I won't be spending 25 years in Jail when I beat you into a pulp and leave your mangled remains for the rest of these worms to feast on. You are inferior, a facade, you will be the first victim for the Lion. You will be the first to be fully and wholly conquered. You are the first fatality in a career of professional executions. I'm a wrestler, not a character. I don't care about my early life in Iran, or my life in Canada. I care about this match, my art and that title.

Feroz shifts his attention to Trevor.

Feroz: Another character. Another joke. Another victim. This line-up is too easy for me to stretch out, and leave a bloody mess. I'm not a man of many words, but few and impactful ones. All I can say to you, and Nathan Cage for, for that matter, is to step out of the way. Drop you swords now, bow at the New King's feet, and spare yourselves from the conquest of a hungry lion. This lion is here to feast.

 

[Roadster]

@Nick @Ethan Hunt - You lads are left to go.

 

[Nick]

Edward Pearson emerges onto the stage, dressed in a black suit. He gives the mostly silent crowd a smirk, in quite the contrast to his ominous music. He makes his way down the ramp and towards the ring, eyeing his opponents. Pearson goes up the steps and enters the ring through the middle rope. He pulls out a microphone from the inside of his jacket, and takes a quick glance at all of his opponents.

"How trivial. These are my opponents? This is who the glorious Edward Pearson must face?"

He laughs and turns to the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen my name is Edward Pearson. I am a Yale graduate - so you are already well aware of the fact that my knowledge is far superior to all of yours. Not only do I possess three degrees from the premier institution of higher education, I am also a world class athlete. All-American wrestler, and the ONLY PWGP Jr. Heavyweight Champion. Yes, Trevor, while you have not been able to capture a championship once in your miserable 5 year career, I got one in my first month of professional wrestling. I'll gladly give you a lesson when the match commences."

Edward smiles at Trevor.

"I think this will turn out to be quite the riveting contest. I have already formulated approximately 120 different strategies and moves in my mind based on your amusing tirades. There is the old phrase "don't judge a book by its cover" but I've read many books whose covers were indicative of whats to come. Even if you surprise me and are different from what my brilliant mind has painted you to be, I can simply adjust. My IQ ranks amongst the world's highest. Combine that with my unmatched athleticism and it spells disaster for all you uneducated mongrels. Even if you were to connect with your most grandiose maneuver, it would still be a negative move for you. Because I will recuperate, and develop yet another strategy to counter your onslaughts and use your strengths to my advantage. This is how an Ivy League graduate's mind operates. It is always working, always looking multiple steps ahead."

"I will emerge from this contest victorious, and there is simply nothing any of you so-called wrestlers can do to stop me. Feroz, Nate, Shinji, Zealot, and Trevor. Class is in session. Prepare to be educated!"

 

[Roadster]

Just a reminder: @Ethan Hunt

 

[Smart Marx]

Ready or Not blares across the American Bank Center in Corpus Christi. This music marks the arrival of the newest acquisition to Supreme International Grappling, Shinji Tsukada. He is being lead to the ring by his lovely valet, Raiden, who is wearing an official Close Quarters Combat Wrestling zip hooded sweatshirt, and they are flanked by his Red-Light Entourage. Tsukada immediately takes a seat to watch as Raiden unzips her sweatshirt and dances provocatively for Lucius, Hunt, Omega Dredd and Corpus Christi before taking a microphone.
​

TSUKADA: Well, well, well, if this isn't the soon to be world famous Supreme International Grappling Federation. If you don't know, by now, who I am, let me intro-duce, myself. I am your captain of industry, the master of my own fate, the director of this here production and might I say a mighty swell guy, my name is Tsukada. Shinji, Tsukada.

Tsukada climbs on top of the turnbuckle to show off his merchandise for the crowd while Hunt nearly faints on the apron at the sight of Raiden's booty.​

TSUKADA: This lovely lady that stands before you for your viewing pleasure, their entertainment and my own personal amusement, is The Radiant Raiden. You will certainly find her more personable than my cohorts that seem a we bit too distracted at the moment. We're not here to disrupt your family circus, we just want our merry band of deplorables to be apart of it. We're not looking to displace anyone, we just want to assimilate. Of course there'll be a slight adjustment period.

Tsukada has to back Lucius away from Raiden so he may pose with her himself.​

TSUKADA: I don't know what your television program is rated, but anytime I'm on your screen it jumps straight past TV-14 to TV-MA. I'm only suitable for adults. I'm the only person in this contest who's suited for television. I'm here to draw the big numbers for Supreme International Grappling. Don't lie you know you'd all rather go back in time when wrestling was cool, when it was fun. Let's make wrestling great again!

Tsukada holds a beach towel over the ropes that reads: Make Wrestling Great Again​

TSUKADA: Not that this show needs an immediate injection of greatness. I mean did you see that bloke running around dousing chicks blouses? Where did that cat go? I can see myself hanging with a guy like that. He just appears to be having fun. I know I got his boy in a match coming up, but why do we have to let such technicalities ruin such a good time. I have a feeling I know why I wasn't invited to partake in such festivities. Go ahead and bring her out for our new pal.

The curly-haired young member of the entourage pulls out a blowup doll oddly reminiscent of a certainly individual may or may not have seen before.​

TSUKADA: This is my gift to you, Dick. Now normally I'm the one with a potty mouth, but I can't quite bring myself to say your surname, pardon me, but it is my hope that my giving you a companion of your very own will make an acceptable peace offering. My issue isn't with you. I wouldn't even mind if you wanted to party with us after the show just to show that there's no, um, hard feelings, here. I bet you can get wild. Buck wild. I saw you running around back there chasing them hussies. It's time to let your freak flag fly. Instead of letting that freak fly you around. The first moment I saw that wannabe bumble bee come out here, I swear my wood got soft. That never happens to me. What a buzzkill that one. It's time to kill the thing buzzing around like an insect and not the one making the buzz.

Tsukada is handed a can of bug spray from Lucius' trunks and he proceeds to spray it towards Zealot.​

TSUKADA: I don't need to change my plans, Zealot, my career is just getting started. I don't care if you are or aren't an animal, that's not my bag anyway and you don't appear to be dressed like a bull anyway, more like some over-sized bumble bee, am I right? To be honest with you I think you have some major identity issues as you can't decide if you're an insect, an animal, a bull or a monster? Do you really believe you have scales now? Five seconds ago you were trying to convince me you weren't a bull because you had no rage and now I have to worry about if you may or may not be a dragon? What are you on, mate, and can I have some? I'm not joking, I could use some new party favors.

The young boy hands him some pills and a bottle of water to swallow them with.​

TSUKADA: OK, OK, maybe you don't actually believe you're a monster, you simply believe you were born out of the loins of a monster, your words, not mine. If you don't have dissociative identity disorder, perhaps you simply just have daddy issues. I mean I'm not one to besmirch daddy issues when it's done me so well, but there may be time to get yourself booked at a good psychiatrist's office. I think some time laying down a couch bearing your soul may be a better use of your time than laying down on the mat for a three-count when I inevitably become the sole survivor of this melee. You don't stand a chance against me. When you got booked against me you hit the metaphorical red-light. Do not pass go and do not collect $200.

Tsukada pulls out Monopoly money and makes it rain into the crowd.​

TSUKADA: It's time you got over the fact that your daddy never loved you and just know that my daddy used to beat me with the business end of his belt. It's all right, though, I've come to enjoy that sort of thing now. Life is all about perspective. Stop worrying if you're the demon child of hell or the ass-end of the donkey I pay to see in Tijuana. It makes no difference in the squared circle. We all came from somewhere.

Tsukada proudly displays Japan's flag wrapped around his waist as he hunches over the ropes and points to Gazsi.
​

TSUKADA: Take this Feroz Gazsi for instance. He hails to us from Iran and I'm from Japan. Does that make a lick of difference to me? Maybe in the boudoir where I actually got to lick an Iranian girl, but certainly not between these ropes. I do want to stop you to tell you that if you refer to yourself as the under-card, management will never see you any differently. I showed up for this match to show this Michael why I belong in future world title opportunists. The Red-Light Superstar is the main event wherever he goes. In this match we are the special attraction.

Tsukada asks his cohorts for his journal. It looks a lot like a guide for spicing up your love life.​

TSUKADA: I'm not one to rehash a shtick so I'll simply say if you think you're a conquering lion, who am I tell you differently. I will say that for the rest of us tough men, I don't plan to get one over on you by simply talking. I show it every night, all night. Just ask Raiden. She can vouch for my wrestling prowess. We're up until the wee hours of the morning going over all my holds like Leg Lock, The Wheelbarrow, The Octopus, G-Spot Jiggy, Couch Canoodle, Randy Recliner, The Passion Pretzel and who can forget Twirl-a-Girl. That one is her favorite. She just wants to do it over and over and over until we get her to come just right. You know, to hit the technique just right.

Tsukada drops the journal and mimics giving Raiden the techniques in the middle of the ring to the crowd's titillation.​

TSUKADA: I can't quite relate to being a machine or a lion, myself being a very fortune human man, but we both have similar desires. We both seemingly want to leave Texas crowned the new king. I just don't think you have the chops for it. Your lack of character defines you. You have none. You have no true passion for this. Neither a lion, nor a machine, two things you aspire to be have no sense of wish-fulfillment. That will be your downfall. I preserve my goals at all costs. I told Zealot and I'm telling you my goals don't end here.

Tsukada tries to do the robot before laughing to hard to maintain it.​

TSUKADA: I will say in your defense that you will go farther in this fed than the Yale graduate. I don't know if anyone members a crimson young boy from a decade or so back that would always whine about being from Harvard. The thing you boys don't understand is this isn't a course you can learn from a textbook. You have to feel it. Unless you have that intangible it factor, you're nothing to these people. You'll never square up or measure up to what they or you hope to be.

Tsukada takes a deep breathe and leans back into the turnbuckle for a moment.​

TSUKADA: I suppose being Ivy League educated at least has a few perks. I would assume you'd be smart enough to at least formulate a gimmick or a game plan. I don't know who this Trevor kid is or why he thinks he can breeze right in the door without no rhyme, reason, or routine and think he can simply win this by saying "at least I'm not threatening to take your souls?" Is that your claim to fame? You don't have a shtick? I may have gone to town on a few of these guys for haiming it a bit, but at least I respect them for trying. What's your excuse? You don't think you can beat a veteran in a bee costume so why not take a dive? I can't say I blame you, I guess. If had the charisma of watching paint dry, I wouldn't take that heat either. It's no fun being the low man on the totem pole.

Tsukada pretends to grind the turnbuckle.​

TSUKADA: At least no one will ever accuse Nate Savage of being on the pole. That would just be nasty, would it? I gotta delete that one from my wank bank immediately. He can't even see the fun in Dick chasing around tail. Such a fuddy-duddy. Omega warned me about you. Told me not trust Raiden around you, something about you possibly trying to pay her to pee on you or something. I mean, I don't judge. Whatever floats your Texas-sized rocks. Tip of the hat if that's what's right up your alley, I'm just glad to hear you have an alley to pee in.

Tsukada has Raiden cover back up and sends her to the floor with Lucius.​

TSUKADA: I wish you hadn't brought up all your hang-ups, I mean if you're also still upset over your dad not giving you enough hugs, you and Zealot should get a group rate at the local shrink's office. Maybe no one told you this growing up, but it's OK to lose, not for me as I won't be losing, but for you. You don't need to make backup plans. We don't all windup winners. This world needs some people to paint the walls, and take out the garbage. You're already built for it, aren't ya? You're big dude, you don't need to roll around in the ring with us athletes. Leave the showmanship to the professionals. It's OK to give up on your dreams, mate. Sometimes you just have to let reality sink in. There's nothing wrong with that.

Tsukada heaves all of his gear to the floor like he's taking out the trash.​

TSUKADA: I'll be the one taking care of business, don't worry. Go ahead enjoy that party you were nice enough to invite me to. You don't need to always take life so seriously. Trust in me, I've got this. You can even still show my beautiful valet that beating you were so giddy about, it's nothing she hasn't already seen one way or the other before. Forget about this Clint Shepard fellow, I'll be your guide tonight. I'll show you it's possible to be all business and still have fun and games in this ring. If you don't, you'll be the one left crippled on the curb.

Tsukada goes out to the floor and lifts the protective mat off the concrete and shows Nate he isn't playing around this time.​

TSUKADA: This will be the last time you boys see me without my accessories. Every pimp that comes out of the red-light district knows how to accessorize. Just remember this face because the next time I'm here I'll be your Television Champion. That's your cue to get the money shot.

Tsukada gets in the face of the announce team before SIG cuts away.​

 

[Roadster]

I'll get the voting up a little later.

 

[Smart Marx]

I'll get the voting up a little later.

Just out of curiosity how many people in SIG are not in this match?

 

[Roadster]

Yeah it's quite big. No problem if we have low voter turnout. We'll hopefully improve next month.

 

[Roadster]

@Roadster - Michael/Feroz Gazsi
@Aurtle The Turtle - Rio Nakayama
@Trevor - Trevor
@Drag - James Dragon
@Dojo - James Sloane
@Nick - Edward Pearson
@KeepItFresh - Bulk Swollen
@Rogue - Oli Cross/Jack Forte
@Ethan Hunt - Omega Dredd/Shinji Tsukada
@Jimmy King - Nate Savage
@TMBS - Zealot/Dick Fagget
@DK JAMES - Dos Vidas
@Dat Kid - Dat Kid

Read and vote!

 

[Dojo]

This really was between Zealot and Shinji for me. Shinji's was long as fuck, but I didn't find myself bored or anything while I was reading it which usually happens with long stuff.