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Post by Ben Jacobs on Aug 8, 2009 9:59:04 GMT -6
Post RPs below...
2 point early rp bonus for each wrestler's first rp which scores above 10 and is posted prior to Tuesday, August 11th @ 3:30 PM CST. (Board time)
RP deadline is Tuesday, Aug. 18th @ 11:59 PM CST (board time)
Match & segment deadline is Wednesday, Aug.19th @ 10AM CST. (board time)
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Post by Alexander Rose on Aug 12, 2009 19:41:34 GMT -6
::Begin Transmission::
Begin Scene: Time, Date, Location Backlogged- August 2nd, 2009- 12:36AM CST. Family Arena in St Charles, MO.
We come to see Ase, still covered in blood and sweat, still laying on the mats on the floor by the steel cage. The crowd has gone. Doug Gavelon has waltzed out of the Family Arena the newly crowned Southern Heritage Champion. Phil was able to walk away from the match. RCW Announcers Lester Daly and Floyd Boyd are heard over the image, recalling the last seconds of the match.
Floyd Boyd: Ase's going to do it! He's gonna do it! I told you he would, Daly!
Lester Daly: It looks like this one is over, ladies and gentlemen.
Floyd Boyd: ASE DROPPED! HE WON!
Lester Daly: No he didn't... Ase's FEET are not touching the floor.... GAVELON IS THE NEW SOUTHERN HERITAGE CHAMPION!
Floyd Boyd: I still can't believe this, Ase had the match won... won... won...
Boyd's voice echoes off to silence, as Tarja leans over Ase, who has laid there refusing medical attention and yet unable to move. The echo trails off to silence, and a solemn video of Ase laying on the mats, the red cage towering over him, his eyes with a faraway look, and Tarja hovering over him, and very concerned look on her face. After several seconds of silence, Ase's voice plays over the video.
Ase: 2.8 seconds. That's what the timekeeper would tell me was the amount of time between Gavelon's feet touching the floor and mine was. 2.8 seconds. Not even the length of a good shot of whiskey.
Tarja leans down and whispers into Ase's ear, but the audio from the track isn't audible, only Ase's voiceover.
Ase: I had the match won- I knew it, Lester Daly knew it, Floyd Boyd knew it, the fans knew it, hell, even Gavelon and Phil knew it. I was three feet from the floor when Gavelon got in one lucky punch that caused my foot to get caught in the cage just long enough for him to win my title. I can't say I harbor bad feelings about it. Sometimes matches are won and lost on one singular lucky move- hit or miss. All my skill and strength were meaningless because Doug Gavelon had a lucky day. And sometimes that's what it all comes down to. You can't predict it, and you can't stop it. When luck decides to hand somebody else your prize, and just have to accept it...
Ase's face strains in severe pain as he lifts himself up to a seated position. His face strains further as Tarja puts his arm over her and he grabs the bottom rung of the steel cage, and forces himself to his feet.
Ase: ... at least for the time being.
::Present Time- August 12th, 8:54PM. Location- Atlantic City, NJ- AlatiCare Regional Medical Center- City Division- Trauma Recovery Wing.::
We come to see Ase laying on a hospital bed, shirtless and in a pair of short black tight biker shorts. His left knee is wrapped with a bandage, the ankle caught in the cage is elevated and splinted. His ribs are wrapped, and his face is covered in stitches.
Ase: But not forever. Doug Gavelon- you beat me. Fair and Square. I can't take that away from you nor will I try. But you and I both know it was pure luck that let your feet hit before mine. So enjoy your moment in the spotlight. Because all this-
Ase motions up and down his body at his numerous injuries.
Ase: All this will go away, and I'll be back in the ring, main eventing Southern Dynamite. One week from now. Where will you be? Your the champion, and your not even on the card.
Ase winces as he shifts in the bed.
Ase: Some people believe showing myself like this is a sign of weakness. I disagree. I want everybody to know the score. I put my health on the line at School of Hard Knocks II. I cracked 2 ribs, severely sprained my ankle, dislocated my kneecap, and got a total of 76 stitches on my face and head. Oh, I also dislocated my first and third finger on my right hand, but there isn't much they can do for it.
Ase smiles darkly.
Ase: But trust me, Doug Gavelon, you have NOT seen the last of Ase. Now that Phil has lost the title, I wouldn't be surprised if he took another leave of abscence and won't be heard from again. Eno Redrum has dropped down to the Tag Division. Who is left? Chris Lee? We all know he'll cash in his briefcase for your belt. He'd be an idiot not to. Because I know you suffered just as I did inside the cage, Gavelon. You just don't have the manhood to step through the injuries and continue competing. So Chris Lee is going to take your broken carcass and try to vulture the Southern Heritage belt off you. Well, I accept I lost a cage match to you, Gavelon, but lets get things straight- it's one thing to climb a cage fast than me, but it is a COMPLETELY different thing to pin my shoulders to the mat or to make me submit. In fact, it has yet to be done in RCW. I lost my first match in a Ladder match, and now my second defeat was in a Cage match.
Ase forces a chuckle.
Ase: For somebody who craves the mayhem and destruction of gimmick matches, they certainly don't seem to requite my love for them, considering they've now cost me the Southern Heritage title twice.
Ase winces in pain as he shifts again, and pushes the "happy button" by his bed. A genuine smile spreads across his face.
Ase: Enough about you, Gavelon, I WILL be seeing you soon, Southern Heritage title or not. Now, onto my current opponent, Dewey Bird. Son, I bet right this very moment, watching this, you are tinkling in your pants going "Ase's talking about ME! HEHEHEHEHE!"
Ase laughs out loud until his laugh trails off to a final, sigh-like ha.
Ase: Sorry- morphine. Anyway- you are one lucky little redneck, Dewey Bird. A week ago, you were nobody. Just that guy who was too much of a coward to defend your own partner. Now you are in the MAIN EVENT, about to be maimed by the legend himself, Ase. I bet right now you are on Cloud 9...
Ase pushes the "happy button" again.
Ase: I am too. Hehehe. But let's cut right to it- Dewey, I suggest you go to Ben Jacobs, who seems to be running the show solo now, and beg and plead for anything. Hell, if I were you, I'd rather have Hardcore Jesus put me in the hospital next to my partner than face me. I end careers. I've ended a LOT more than Hardcore Jesus. Hell, I've crippled more people than Polio. But, if you really want, I'll take you for a ride, and you'll get your name mentioned along with mine for a bit, and temporarily you'll be a star by association. But is it really worth it? Is it worth giving up the life you love just to be a flavor of the week for one week? Until next Southern Dynamite when I main event again while Doug Gavelon and Phil lick their wounds? I'm sure you are thinking right now that I'm injured- easy pickings for an up and comer like you, right? If you knew me, you'd know that when I'm injured, I am JUST like a wild animal- I am more vicious, and I don't fight for sport, I fight for survival. And when it comes down to survival, it's all about one thing- my life or your life. So I WILL be out to kill at Southern Dynamite... I'll be... I'll be... so tired.
As the drug kicks in, Ase's eyelids slam shut.
::FADE TO BLACK::
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