muzz

Like what? 2100 K is almost a minimum as far as I'm concerned (750 words ~ two minutes * 28 entries) and if you've gotten that far... hell, might as well go as long as you feel like. Something like 16 - 18 Thousand. On one hand, you don't want people going completely overboard, but you also want a level playing field. Or 20+, because I'm being unreasonable.

You know, I always had a soft spot for Steve. Quite sad to see him go.

I imagine there would be so much red tape involved with performing slightly more 'dangerous' moves, that they don't even bother anymore. Especially when your ability to wrestle and innovate doesn't dictate your push up the card.

I'm dissapointed that there's not some sort of word limit on the 'Fuck.

The Raw Thread is useful for people to mold their opinions after so they can follow the thinking of the collective and feel safe.

Hush you. There's 'Randy', and then there's 'Savage.' Savage is cool, obviously. Maybe not Fred Savage.

For Orton to improve at all, he needs to lose Evolution. Right now, he's just a lackey, even if they are trying to build him as something bigger. Losing the name 'Randy' would help. I just can't take him seriously. Shit, make him Rowdy Randy Rorton or Triple R.

Rockin' Card once again, should be very memorable. I'm pullin' for a JL'er to surprise everyone and snatch the Fuck.

Dateline, Adelaide! As Australia Day celebrations continue through the twilight hours, the nation looks back at the achievements of it’s sporting stars of the past year! Steve Waugh, world-renowned Australian cricket star and all-round top bloke regrettably announced his retirement from the game in the later months of 2003. In recognition of his contribution to the nation’s cricketing identity, Waugh was awarded the honour of becoming Australian of the Year! Top stuff, Steve, keep up the good work cobber! One of the nation’s lesser-known stars made his presence felt at the presentation ceremony, declaring that he was more deserving of Australia’s top honour! “What are you people, idiots? I’m the United States Champion for crying out loud. I OWN YOU STEVE. JOIN THE EXPERIMENT.” This roughhousing ruffian caused quite a stir, but Prime Minister John Howard, in his continuing and undying support for America, labeled this man a hero, and a true ambassador for the fair nation of Australia! Cheers to you Sacred, and continue making Australia proud, mate! *Click* With a sly grin, he puts down the remote control, glancing over at his ‘Australian of the Year’ award, ignoring the name ‘Steve Waugh’ engraved into the base. He sighs, pulling his weary body up from the sofa, then turning towards a camera, based on a tripod in the center of the room, the red light continuing to flash as it captures his every move. Though the lens, Andrew Blackwell can be seen walking through the room and out of the frame. He soon returns though, falling into his knees as he peers into the camera. “The brass, the leadership, the Kliq asked that I record a little something or other for the Pay Per View. And I, the Australian of the Year, listened to them as I have always done, so here I am.” “…In a few days time, it will be Clusterfuck time once more. Regrettably, I cannot enter this prestigious contest, as I will be pitted against the Junior League’s best, one on one.” “…Once again, I am denied the chance of recapturing the World Championship, no doubt, a part of a diabolical and evil Kliq plot. But am I fussed? No, of course not, don’t be silly. I’m a team player. I get things done and I do my job.” “You know what? I’m not doing this. Turn it off, now.” … A second, unknown figure then moves into shot, switching the camera off and we fade to black once more.

bne001w.webcentral.com.au <-- Only one working at the moment.

If it had been anyone else, you would have wrote.

What I wrote, just to prove I put the effort in until I had to come to the aid of my mother, and my sleep deprivation. .... The crowd reaction is utterly deafening, as they immediately throw their collective support behind the Superior One. This pleases tom greatly, who gazes out amongst the fans, then turns his head back towards his opponent, shooting him a snide grin. This doesn’t phase Blackwell one iota. In fact, the Australian strides across the ring, brimming with intent, and simply rears back… *SLAP!* Nailing Flesher across the chest with a sharp knife-edge chop! The crowd cringes at the painful blow delivered by the Sacred One, but Flesher remains in one spot, hardly wavered by the blow, and remaining toe-to-toe with his foe. Not stopping to chat, Blackwell goes down low as he nails Flesher with a knee to the midsection. He then pulls Flesher close, almost face-to-face as he delivers a few more rising knee strikes. With Flesher off-guard, at least for the moment, Blackwell sends him into the strands with an Irish Whip. Giving his opponent little time to counter, Blackwell snaps Flesher over with an ankle scissors, sending him rolling across the mat, but he recovers and soon regains his footing. Depriving Tom of any time to set himself, Sacred springs from the mat and plants two feet into Tom’s chest. Blackwell uses this to back flip and land back on two feet as Flesher stumbles into the ropes behind him. They propel him towards the center of the ring where Sacred is waiting, as the Australian reaches down and lifts up Flesher’s left leg, leaving him hoping on the other while he attempts to snap him over with a Dragon Screw. Flesher, all too weary of being in this predicament, shoots forth, nailing Blackwell with a palm strike! And another! Blackwell is soon forced to let go as he reels from the swift blows, and leaves himself open for Tom, who traps him close, lifting him high into the air, completely vertical. Flesher then slowly falls, bringing Blackwell with him like a tree trunk, taking him down with a vertical Suplex! Well aware no pins can be made, Flesher rolls through almost immediately, keeping a tight grip on Blackwell, pulling him into a front face lock. The crowd applauds politely, knowing that with only a few quick moves, Flesher has clearly established himself in this match. Tom makes this clear as he strikes Blackwell with a few rising knees to Sacred’s temple, repaying the favour from earlier. Attempting to wear Sacred down further, Tom cinches the hold in tighter each second it’s applied. Blackwell refuses to be pulled down onto the mat though and heaves himself up, regaining his footing. Without warning, Blackwell takes Tom around the waist, throwing him over in a Northern Lights Suplex! Blackwell keeps a hold of tom in a bridge before rolling through, lifting Tom up in much the same fashion, hitting another Northern Lights! Trying his luck, Blackwell rolls through once more, ready to plant Tom once again, but Flesher is no fool and counters swiftly, gripping his arm around Blackwell’s neck and kicking him in the breadbasket, before driving his head into the mat with a DDT! The Superior One doesn’t stop there though, as he keeps hold of his foe, trapping him by hooking him in a body scissors as he wrenches back on his neck! Blackwell’s momentum is stop cold once again as Flesher keeps him entangled in his web, wrenching back with a neck lock while keeping him well in place with his legs hooked around his waist. Blackwell knows he has to try something desperate, and suddenly wrenches himself free as he pulls Tom’s legs apart with his hands. As he gains free movement of his body back, Blackwell rolls over the top of Flesher, escaping the Superior One’s clutches as he does. Blackwell spins around quite suddenly, trying to catch Tom off-guard, but as he tries to slap on a basic chin lock, Tom reaches behind him, yanking him over by the neck and onto his back with a snapmare. As Flesher climbs to his feet, ready to lock Sacred into a reverse face lock, Blackwell tries to counter in desperation, rolling onto his back, hooking his legs around Flesher’s neck. He thin spins around, throwing Flesher away with a headscissors takeover! Both men immediately get to their feet, keeping their eyes locked onto each other persistently. Blackwell suddenly charges, but Flesher ducks his flying forearm shot. Sacred attempts another pass, but again, Flesher counters in time by taking him down with a drop toe hold, and immediately spinning around, hooking Blackwell in a two on one arm control position. Flesher then shifts his weight and lowers his head, taking Blackwell’s arm with him. He keeps a tight hold of this arm while he moves around Blackwell, using his opposite arm to wrap around Sacred’s waist. In a split second, Flesher lifts Blackwell off of the mat from behind, and takes him down face first in a Russian Drag. Letting go of the arm, Flesher wraps both arms around Sacred’s waist and lifts him onto his feet, and as soon as he does this, Flesher lifts Blackwell up, and over, slamming him down on the back of his neck, nailing him with a German Suplex! The Superior One keeps his hold, as he has done all match, not daring to let Blackwell slip away. He swiftly twirls back onto his feet, ready for another possible German Suplex, but Blackwell again counters out of desperation, not prepared to be taken down again. Sacred charges forth, with Flesher still holding firm around his waist as he throws himself onto the top rope, hoping flesher loses his grip and somersaults backward. He has no such luck however, as Flesher still keeps hold as he rolls onto his back and through again, lifting Blackwell into the exact same position he had him in not five seconds ago. Flesher soon takes Blackwell down in an amateur style take over, thrown onto his stomach. As Flesher leans down, Blackwell lifts him over and takes him down with a fireman’s carry. Sacred doesn’t dare try anything else on the mat, and soon gets back to his feet. Flesher does so too, but Sacred catches him with a picture perfect Dropkick to the jaw! Knowing speed and swiftness is the key, Blackwell quickly makes his way over to the turnbuckles, attempting to leap onto he top rope in a single bound, but he loses his balance and takes a crucial second to correct himself. As he does so, Flesher pounces on the opportunity, running over to the corner, onto the second rope, then the top, grabbing Sacred around the neck and waist and throwing him off the top! The crowd pops loudly for Tom’s sudden burst, which has him lead one point to zero on the scoreboard in the corner. He has little time to celebrate his small victory as Blackwell instantly rolls back onto his feet, although still quite dazed. Flesher takes advantage as he takes Blackwell by the hand and sends him into the ropes with an Irish Whip. As Sacred returns, Flesher combines his movements as he leans back and takes Blackwell around the midsection, throwing him over his head in one amazing move! The crowd is on their feet and joyfully celebrating as Sacred lies on the mat, his brains rattled after being thrown around as much as he has been. Flesher continues this tradition as he lifts Blackwell back to his feet, and reaches underneath the boy from Oz and lifts him up, sitting him down upon the perch of the top turnbuckle. The crowd’s cheers rise even further as Flesher climbs up with his foe, soon throwing his arm over his shoulder and taken a firm grip of Blackwell’s belt. With his opponent trapped, Flesher climbs the final rung as both men are now perched precariously on the top turnbuckle. The Superior One lifts Blackwell into the air, as he falls backwards at the same time, and both men come crashing down from the heavens! The score of ‘2 – 0’ appears in the corner as the crowd goes insane, chanting in stereo, “FLE – SHER! FLE – SHER! FLE – SHER!” Bu maybe they’re chanting too soon as the best is yet to come, as Flesher climbs up towards the heaven’s alone, perching himself on the top turnbuckle as he looks down at the fallen Australian. A appreciative, or maybe cocky smile, appears on Flesher’s face as he looks out at the fans, then down at his opponent. Whatever the case may be, it spells doom for Blackwell, as Flesher leaps high into the air, his arms outstretched, slowly coming down… *BAM!* … And nailing Blackwell with a Flying Headbutt! The chants of Flesher soon give way to, “THREE TO ZERO! THREE TO ZERO!” as the crowd explodes after the tremendous impact from the Headbutt. Flesher has all the momentum, but needs time to recover after landing hard. The Superior One climbs back to his feet, as confident in his own abilities as ever as he slowly lifts his ragged opponent to his feet. Flesher connects with a flurry of palm strikes, before sending Sacred into the turnbuckles. Flesher, building up a burst of speed, follows the Australian in… … But eats nothing but boot! Blackwell counters at the last second, but can’t capitalize. Flesher tries again, but Blackwell pivots to the side and connects with an elbow to the side of the head. Tom is stunned for a split second, just long enough for Sacred to charge forward and plant his front foot into his chest, pushing off with a moonsault! Blackwell flies through the air, and expertly lands on the top rope, doing everything in his power to steady himself! Flesher remains stunned, more from the sudden outburst from the Aussie more than anything, as Sacred jumps forward, somersaulting through the air, and cannonballing into The Superior One’s chest! *WHAM!* The fans let out a disappointed sigh as the score now reads, “3 –1”. Both men lie flat on their backs, Sacred indeed buying himself some time here in which to recover. Despite taking a hard hit that drove the air out of his lungs, Flesher resiliently climbs back to his feet, with help from the turnbuckles. Blackwell soon follows suit, regaining his footing as he looks back over at his Superior opponent, a spiteful look in his eyes. Blackwell charges blindly, but Flesher steadies himself in time and avoids impact by lifting the Australian into the air… … And onto the top rope! Quickly realizing his mistake, Flesher turns around just in time to see Blackwell vault off, spinning with one full rotation, but Flesher avoids impact by moving forward… … But Blackwell lands back on his feet! But, just as he swings around to meet Flesher once again… … Flesher comes a runnin’ at him, attempting a patented Yazuka Kick! The Aussie ducks, however, and Flesher is blindsided as Blackwell thumps him in the back with a forearm, followed by another. Blackwell slinks his arms around Flesher’s waistline, but as he attempts a German Suplex, Flesher blocks easily, simply locking his ankle around Blackwell’s to keep himself firmly in place. With a standing switch, Flesher turns the tables, but Blackwell sprints forward and desperately clings onto the top rope, and this time, Flesher loses his grip and rolls across the mat! The superior is determined to put out Blackwell’s fire, and charges, but Blackwell counters, lifting him into the air and dropping him across his knee with an Atomic Drop! Sacred suddenly leaps onto flesher’s shoulders, attempting to take him over with a Hurricanrana, but Flesher takes hold of him and sprints towards the turnbuckles, throwing him onto the top! The crowd pops as Flesher attempts to climb up with his perched foe, but Blackwell fights back… CRACK! “WHOO!” … Rifling off a knife-edge chop! CRACK! “WHOO!” And another! But Flesher remains on the top rope, so Blackwell fires off one more chop, cracking Flesher across the throat! The Superior One suddenly loses his grip and lands back on the canvas, his hands gripping at his throat as he struggles for air. Standing tall on the top rope, Sacred looks down at Flesher who stumbles about, gasping. Blackwell dives off from the top, spearing Flesher right in the stomach with a Kamikaze Spear! Again, the fans sigh, not wanting to believe that Blackwell has fought his way back into this match. The Australian cracks a snide grin as he brings Flesher back to his feet. Blackwell fires off another couple of chops that cause the fans to cry out after each blow. With a cocky smile stolen straight from Flesher, Blackwell points to the top rope as the fans boo the hell out of him! The Australian heads up top slowly, making sure he makes no mistakes. What he doesn’t count on, however, is Tom Flesher, sprinting forth from the center of the squared circle, and nailing him with a Shotei! Blackwell is stunned, and even more so as Flesher climbs up top with him, leaving the Australian sitting on the top, as he stands in front of him, gazing out at the sea of fans… With a quick hop, Flesher hooks his legs around Blackwell’s neck and pulls him down from the top rope, taking him down with a Frankensteiner! The crowd rise up as one as Flesher recovers from maybe his most highflying move of the past year. The fans once again start chanting his name, as they never thought they would see Tom Flesher fly off the top rope like that. The score is now four to two, and Blackwell is in deep trouble as he tries to crawl away from Flesher, but is soon dragged back onto his feet by his hair.

If I'd have known Tom was going to be a bitch and job me to a haiku, I would have at least tried to finish what I had, which was 2500 words of action.

Board Name: Muzz Wrestlers Name: Linchpin Real Name/Alias: Vincent Torrio Nickname(s): Public Enemy Number One Hometown: Chicago, Illinois Height: 6’3” Weight: 245 lbs. Age: 21 Face/Heel: Cool Face (Heel who’s a face… yeah) Stable: None Tag Partner: Ann(ie) Onita Ring Escort: None Weapon(s): Brass Knuckles Quotes: “…” Attire: An all 'round classy dresser, but isn't as stylish all day, every day. Wears black dress pants and white high collared dress shirt, cut off at the bicep, to show his upper body strength. Wears black fingerless gloves, and on his right forearm, is a tattoo of an angel. Black dress pants and heavy black shoes round out the ensemble. His shoes are particularly hard, and combined with his equally hard and stiff kicks, it makes for a deadly combination. Looks: Smooth, but wavy and messy black hair. Years on the drink (Years 12 - 21) have altered his features. Piercing, deep-set brown eyes and hard nose, complete with scar just to the side of his right eye, which no gangster would be complete without. Lightly tanned skin, looks of Italian or Sicilian decsent, though it has not been confirmed. Whatever it may be, he obviously trains hard, and has for quite some time. Well defined features, six pack, ripped biceps etc. Not bulging by any stretch of the imagination, but he is as hard as a rock, though some are put off by his almost 'lanky' appearance. Ring Entrance: “The Way You Like It" By Adema begins to play as the lights begin to pulse, flaring up with the beat. As the intro concludes, Linchpin walks out, nodding his head to be beat, only a slight hint of a smile as he looks around the arena, adjusting his gloves and moving his head from side to side. Climbs the stairs to get into the ring, casually removing his jacket and placing it neatly on top of the ring post. He then climbs through the ropes and moves into the ring, awaiting Funyon’s announcement and/or his opponent. Stats Strength 5 Above Average strength for his height and weight, able to pick up opponents much heavier than him. Also throws a lot of power behind his kicks and punches.) Speed 5 (Always the crafty and agile criminal, Linchpin is surprisingly speedy around the ring, not afraid to go to the top rope, though he often prefers to toss his opponent from there.) Charisma 2 (Doesn’t rely on speaking skills, frankly, because he doesn’t talk much, only to friends, or enemies. Even then, he keeps things short and sweet.) Vitality 8 (A fuggin strong son of a gun, will bleed like a stuck pig, but will keep on going. He’s taken many beatings in his time, and is ready to take some more.) Style: High Flying Brawler. Can snap an opponent over in an ankle scissors, then pound him into the ground with hard stomps form every angle. Knows enough elementary holds to work a part of the body, but never relies on them too often. Imagine John Cena, with a little more spring in his step, but not as proficient with his rhymes, yo. Has a history of street fighting, bar room brawls, that sort of thing, so can weild a weapon with skill, but never likes to use them. He mugh rathers his fists, or a loaded boot. Signature Moves: Diving Hip Toss Ankle Scissors Hard Lefts and rights including punches to the face, body, kidneys etc. Mafia Kick - A powerful front kick to the face, full sole hitting the face, then pivoting around to land safely. Basically a Yazuka kick, but you know these Mafia types... Flying Lariat Flipping Heel Kick Slap - A Disrespectful one, which just happens to hurt like hell. Running Lyger Bomb Snap Suplex (Sometimes Three in a Row) Standard Piledriver “Hangman’s Noose” Neckbreaker Shooting Star Press (Rareish) Common Moves Flying Leg Lariat Chops (Knife-edge, windpipe, backhand etc.) Kitchen Sink (Plus assorted other knee strikes.) Dropkick (Also Front Style) Step up Enzui Heelkick (jumps on back of opps knee/thigh and leaps up with a spin, kicking them in the back of the head with their heel/leg) Slow Release Brainbuster S.T.O Hurricanrana Tope/Slingshot Bodypress Slingshot Suplex 'Other' Moves "Six Feet Under" Styles Clash ‘03 Perhaps the most deadly move that Linchpin possesses in his arsenal. Think a standard Styles Clash setup, but instead of driving the victim face first, Linchpin losens his grip on his opponent, letting their head dangle only a few inches from the mat. Then, Linch dives forward, as his opponents head and neck compact against the mat. See Here Finisher(s) Omerta Shining Wizard Performed out of almost nowhere, but hit with lots of force, Linchpin doesn't hold back. When he starts on his run, nothing much will stop him, apart from his opponent’s head. Saint Valentine’s Day Massacre Double Powerbomb followed by a DVD (Death Valley Driver) A brutal, brutal move, or rather, set of moves, able to hit on opponents up to 260 pounds, due to his height and vitality. Sometimes, a message needs to be sent, and sometimes, the Shining Wizard just won’t do… Biography Joined the SWF in the month of November, the year 2003. Little other information has been given to what this man has done the past 21 years of his life, but his rap sheet has been made public by unknown sources, of which includes Armed Robbery and Aggravated Assault.

I noticed that too Johnny. I think two or three seperate matches would have been much better, with the finalality of W&D vs. J&R.

Egh, I had hoped I wouldn't be booked after telling Z and GS. Well, I guess I'll give it a go.

My Dearest Brother I do hope this letter finds you well; for I fear I may be slipping into madness once again, though some say, and continue to say, I have long since passed that point. They also say, there is no return, but I beg to differ. I have come to realize that, through our past troubles and transgressions, you would have nothing to do with me anymore. While some may despair at this, I am somewhat glad. I have done wrong by you, and you have turned your back on me. You have showed the strength and character I have tried to instill in you; and I have finally learned through time, the way a Blackwell should conduct himself, and for that I thank you. I’ll keep this correspondence short. I don’t wish to take up your time as you begin to raise a family of your own, but I need a question answered, one that has been plaguing me night and day. Am I mad? To return to that place that has taken so much from me, things I can never claim again, would I be mad to do so? Am I blinded by an unquenchable thirst for contest and violence? By a need to stamp my authority, and one day reach the heights that truly befit the Blackwell name? Alas, brother, I have already resigned to the fact that this question may already be answered. I am going back. May god have mercy on my soul, and I hope you will too. “When we cannot get what we love, we must love what is within our reach.” Anna has been lost, but the competition still remains. I must return. Regards, Sacred

Just something short and hastilly done, but hopefully sweet, to fill the void.

Curry: OMGZ UNTAMED THROUGH TWENTY JILLION TEBLES!!!! NTD: HE'S DEAD CURRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fuck King! Yeah! Mutiny I sez!

Yeah man, complaining about Tag Matches is not on. By the way, don't read my other post.

No, no, no. No more random tag matches. No. Rematch. Give me a chance to actually try.

Raynor's usually busy with work, right?

Happy Birthday to Annie, if it is her real birthday that is. And to Crusen too, I guess.

Willing to learn sounds promising, to me at least.