A Happy Medium

Aw, Tom...don't flatter me...or make fun of me. Yeah...

“This is a bit more diverse than Iowa.” “You know, Archie, that’s why I love it here.” San Francisco, California, the night before Lockdown airs from The Cow Palace. Arch Griffon sits at a table in a local bar, nursing a glass of Crown Royal. He wears a pair of generic new balances, a pair of oversized jeans that don’t cut off circulation to his massive thighs, and an old, yellow vintage Epcot Center t-shirt. Across from him sits his older brother Patrick, who is nursing a screwdriver, and dressed in a business suit. “Are you gay, Patrick? I don’t really care, I mean, you’re still my brother.” “Nah, I just have good fashion sense. I fucking hate Barbara Streisand, so do not worry, I’m still batting for the “right” team.” Patrick makes sure to use his index and middle fingers to quote what the right team is. Arch’s brother is much like himself, with broad shoulders, and red hair. He is just not quite as built as his kid brother. The two of them laugh a stomach clutching laugh, as Streisand is always open to jokes. Archie then reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a pack of Camel Turkish Gold cigarettes along with a generic Bic lighter. “You can’t smoke in here, Archie. And a lot of outdoor areas as well.” “Good thing you told me about this, I was about to ask for an ashtray, or use the half full salt shaker in front of me. Wasn’t this place supposed to be liberal.” “Yeah, but’s also trying to be clean and shit. Why are you still smoking?” Archie takes a small sip of his whisky, letting it smoothly coat his throat with its burning properties. “I like it. If you took it up, you’d understand. But don’t start, it just makes you have to field questions like these.” Patrick looks Arch dead in the eye. “What about your stamina? Smoking isn’t good for heavy breathing.” “Hasn’t bothered me yet.” A lie. Arch easily ran a seven minute mile in high before he started smoking in college. He now runs an eight minute mile, and coughs up phlegm for twenty minutes afterwards. On the other hand, time doesn’t help things, either. And neither does eighty pounds. Archie puts the smokes and lighter back into his pants pocket, and behind him, an imaginary anti smoking Gestapo back off with their fiber wires and chloroform hankies. “Forget about smoking, Pat. What about the way old Dad would act if he ever stepped foot in this city?” “He chews tobacco. He would fair pretty well. But, yeah, he and his homophobic mind may have a big culture shock. Hey, remember when we were in high school, and Dad came to a play rehearsal? We were doing some God awful that made you dress in drag and play a woman? Remember Dad’s reaction?” “Yeah, I think he thought I was turning gay, so he made me quit and go into wrestling. I have no idea where he got his logic in that one.” “Indeed. Rolling around on mats with sweaty guys wearing tights is manly compared to doing a Sam Sheppard play.” Arch and Pat look down into their drinks for a moment, enjoying some comfortable silence between brothers. Finally, Archie makes an obvious statement. “This drink cost me ten dollars. That’s a rip-off.” “Mhmm!” “I was doing a show in Dallas one time, and after the show I decided to get drunk and crash at my motel room. So I walk to a liquor store and buy a seven hundred-fifty milliliter bottle of this same beverage. It cost me only twenty bucks with the badass little bag they put it in.” “And a blowjob from an escort girl costs half of what it costs here, right?” “I haven’t managed to find time for that yet. And should I pay when I could find some ring rat that fucks SWF guys as a career?” “Oh yeah, I forgot, you’re a big star now! Wrestling for the TV and such.” “It’s true. Fuck off. And this song in here right now is perfect for our conversation.” Pat looks up into the ceiling, trying to decipher the music. “Billy Joel?” Arch nods accordingly. “Captain Jack will get you high tonight! And take you to your special island!” “Stop it Archie. I’m not listening to you recite another Billy Joel song!” Arch stops as his brother and a lot of the patrons in the establishment stare at him. “So yeah, I’ve got my first match tomorrow.” “Against whom?” “Since when were you knowledgeable?” “Children, Uncle Archie. I told them about you wrestling for the SWF now.” “You let them watch our fucking show?! They’re eight and six! We shouldn’t even be allowed to have a TV-14 rating!” “Don’t worry about it. I turn them away when bad things come on, and plus, the censors do a good job.” “I really hope I don’t have kids while I’m wrestling.” “Heh. So who are you facing?” “Some angry Arabian guy.” “My kids hate him.” “Then his character works, but I’ve heard he’s unproven at best. I should debut well.” “Can I let my kids watch?” Archie quickly downs the rest of his, fights back a cough, and then responds. “Sure.” “Can I trust you not to get too violent?” “I can’t promise shit and you know that.” Archie sucks his lips in and grinds his teeth, unsure of himself. “I’ll give it my best shot, but I can’t promise anything.” Patrick also finishes his drink. Nodding as he does. His younger brother then stares off into space for a moment, letting the whisky warm him up nicely. “Pat, what time is it?” “It is…six o’clock.” “I have to get going. Need to go meet up with some people and then find a gym.” “And I need to get home to the family. Lets rock.” The two men throw down their tabs and a generous tip. They both rise, and take a second to get their legs under them. They grab their coats from their chairs, and advance towards the door. After getting outside, Patrick looks off into the distance, then quickly looks back at Arch. “Can I have a smoke?” Arch looks at his brother, annoyed. “You smoke?” “Only when drinking. So really, I don’t.” Arch, irritated, reaches his cigarettes, and hands Patrick one. “You’re a fucking idiot, Patrick. Either you smoke or you don’t. And you better not take two drags and put it out.” “I won’t.” Arch lights up both of their cigarettes. Patrick immediately inhales on his cigarettes, then coughs out a plume of smoke. Arch doesn’t inhale the butane smoke, but then swiftly takes in an uncontaminated puff. He looks over out his social smoking brother. “Word of advice, Cowboy. Don’t take smoke into your lungs as you light it. It doesn’t taste very good. And I need to start walking. I’ll call you after the show.” Patrick coughs again. “Be safe, Archie.”

..You gotta give up the toad now...woo ooh ooh!

K, I will up my promo output. Maybe I'll get better at them.

Man, another August show for Dallas.... Time to die again like last year. I need to go and see In Flames...almost saw them two years ago when they came into town, but then some girl I was hanging out with told me to go Less Than Jake with her. Then she forgot to pick me up, was ten minutes away, kept on driving...yadda yadda, I missed both shows that night. So I need to go. Shadows Fall on main stage is awesome....then there's Maiden...

So, in MVP I did an owner mode with the Nationals. It was too easy. Took me five years to build a team that won the WS five years in a row. built the team around Aramis Ramirez, Carl Crawford, Rich Harden, and Zack Grienke. Then I went traded Christian Guzman and others away for this SS in the draft who was already at all 60s for power and contact, plus a better fielder with more durability. The guy is ungodly now. And I finally picked up an aging Gagne as my closer. The year is like 2013.

I'm up for a Cubs/Sox fight. I was a White Sox fan, but then converted to the Cubs for a lot of reasons. Frank Thomas...he better get to 500 home runs before he's done. Guy never touched roids, and has been cursed by his breaking down body. He was great to watch back in the 90s. Meanwhile, US Cellular Field has got to be one of the worst names ever for a ballpark. Unfortunately, Comiskey Park had its named wasted on the park. Ever sat in the upper deck? So god damned steep. Also, Bridgeport is where the Daley family is from, so the neighborhood is nice, thanks to constant police presence, but it is a nice area. And congrats Mole....I only have 2000. But I dont have many digital pictures of myself to post, eh.

I remember when Mike was a JL jobber. There was a possibility you could've impregnated his sister, tell him about it, and then have him make pancakes for you. And yeah, go Illini.

So yeah, I'm that Arch Griffon fella. Match is already done and turned in. Hope you guys enjoy it.

I always thought Fable could be made into a movie rather easily. The good/evil dynamic could work well. Problem is giving the protagonist lines.

I enjoyed it. Kyle's dad asking for a dolphin bathroom was hilarious. Also, the blowhole bit was nice. Very fucked up, but very cool.

I threw my new character in so yeah.

Yeah...I'm back again... Smarks Board Name: A Happy Medium Wrestlers Name: Arch Griffon Height: 6’4” Weight: 302 pounds Hometown: Des Moines, Iowa Age: 27 Face/Heel: Tweener Stable: None Ring Escort: None Weapon(s): Doesn’t need any Quote: “I’m just here to make a day’s killing.” Looks: Arch is a big hulking man with red hair, and hazel eyes. He is ripped, and looks like he may be doing steroids or injecting horse testosterone every two hours. Outside of the ring, he usually wears a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, sneakers, and a pair of sunglasses. Inside of the ring, Arch wears white wrestling boots and white tights. Think of Ricky Steamboat back in the day and there you go. Ring Entrance: At The Drive-In’s “Arc Arsenal” plays around the arena, sending the fans into a frenzy of mixed reactions. Some boo, some cheer. The arena goes dark as the song starts up. It slowly fades to black, but right before it goes to black, the song kicks into gear, sending out some white pyro, that temporarily blinds the fans. Out of the pyro comes Arch, power walking out to the ring. He doesn’t acknowledge the fans, only the thought that his job must be done. Once he gets to the ring, he does some stretches to warm up for his upcoming match. Stats: ¯¯¯¯¯ Strength: 9 (He’s very strong) Speed: 3 (Not fast, but has good leaping ability along with agility) Vitality: 5 (Not indestructible, and has back problems which do give him problems) Charisma: 3 (Can cut a promo, usually lets his actions do the talking) Style: Arch is all about power wrestling, though he can break out some wrestling skills if he needs to. Against other power wrestlers, he will fight fire with fire. Against speeding wrestlers, he will try to destroy them. Against brawlers…same thing. However, with technical wrestlers, he will be much more cautious. Signature moves: (one) Griffon’s Grasp (Arch grabs and opponents left wrist, and delivers a short armed clothesline. Using his amazing strength, Arch lifts his opponent back to their feet, and delivers another. He always does two, but can go on forever with them. (two) Powerbomb (your standard powerbomb with gusto) (three) Gridlock (Full Nelson with…you guessed it…gusto. May be used as a finisher if built up to. See finishers for more details. (four) The Lion and The Eagle (bulldog where Arch actually stands still with his opponent in a rear headlock and lifts the victim by the head and neck, and then falls to his ass) (five) Running Shoulder Breaker (six) Bloodlust Plancha (Running plancha to the outside) Common moves: (one) Snap Suplex (two) Backbreaker (three) Knife Edge Chop (four) Twisting Spinebuster (five) Rope Guillotine (six) European Uppercut (seven) Superkick (eight) Belly to Belly Overhead Suplex (nine) Superplex (ten) Northern Lights Suplex (eleven) Gutwrench Suplex (twelve) Half Boston Crab (thirteen) Running Leg Drop (fourteen) Flying Shoulder Block (fifteen) Victory Roll (sixteen) Double Chickenwing Cradle Rare moves: (one) Bloodlust Powerbomb (Running Powerbomb to the outside. Done on wrestlers 250 pounds and smaller, and only in big matches. Finishers: (one) Arch Nemesis (Cradle Piledriver which is usually up by a kick to the stomach, a nasty knee to the face, and then a grab into a standing head scissors. Arch doesn’t like making mistakes.) (two) Gridlock (only if the opponent’s neck and/or head have been injured) Bio: Archie grew up in Des Moines, and lead a normal childhood. Tricycles, bicycles, and shitty beat up first cars the way he progressed in transportation. In high school, he excelled in amateur wrestling. He was close to being ranked number one in his 220 pound weight class until a back injury halted his progress. He did not receive any scholarships for college, but luckily he was book smart, and wound up transferring into Northern Illinois University. He majored and graduated with a degree in Computer Science, making him the most muscular professional computer nerd in the country. However, immediately after graduating, the technology bubble burst. So Archie went back to Des Moines to find some simple work. He later went into wrestling school. And now he is in the SWF.

Madison Square Garden is a fucking awesome name. Market Square Arena was a good name. Comiskey Park sounds good...Us Cellular Field is atrocious. The Key Arena is nice...may be corporate, still sounds good.

You're from Bloomingdale, Il? I have to say, Stratford Square has gone downhill so much since I was a kid.

So you want...A HAPPY MEDIUM?!?!? Remember, Chyna was a hot seller too. Novelty is more of a factor than the average Playboy model would have you believe. I'd say Steph. I'd RATHER see Steph, as well, but I think that most people would prefer a smokin'-hot blonde like Trish. That doesn't necessairly sell, though. Sure, if you would like to put it that way.

Jeeze...enough with the Steph pictures already. They're not bad, but someone needs to balance it out with some Trish pics. I'd buy the Trish mag over the Steph mag myself.

Dallas... Bob Hicks Stars/Rangers..He loves his money...sold away the naming rights to the Ballpark in Arlington to become shitty ass Ameriquest Field. Overspends on the Stars, but they make good money. By overspending, he brings in NHL All Stars to play second fiddle to Modano. The Rangers...eh, he figured it out and realized baseball isnt a one man sport. He got rid of A-Rod, and the team did better. He is blessed by two great stadiums. Jerry Jones - Meh, everyone knows about this guy. Doesn't build for the future like he should. Mark Cuban - Mavericks...the games are fun to go to. Puts a good team on the floor every year, yet cant get over the hump. He needs to stop making trades, and lay in the bed he makes. the 2003 offseason was ridiculous. The Mavs were only a couple of games away from the finals. And...he makes two stupid trades, getting Jamison and Walker...two forwards for a forward stacked team. Of course, he did get rid of Raef LaFrentz.

Eh..what the hell. Why did you choose that name for your character? Well, I thought of the name way back in the day when I watched wrestling almost religiously, and I was thinking...damn, I love the name Jericho. So, I picked a random city from Europe, and it happened to be Munich. It was a name that I was going to change later, but it just stuck Why do they look the way they do? I have no clue. It just came out that way. Wanted him to look normal, I guess...only in shape and a bit ripped. Kinda looks like me, Why is their character the way it is, and is this different from how you originally envisaged them? I have no clue why my character was the way it was. I enviisioned him to be a tragic hero of sorts who was human and not some wrestling machine. But eh, he became a comedy face...then a jobber. Both of which I controlled entirely. If there was one thing you would want your character remembered for, what would it be? The Bar-room Brawl I had in the good old JL. Fun times.

Wait...religious institutions do not get taxed, and now Bush wants to give them taxpayer money? That is stupid.

All I can say is that she is not professional.

I picked the White Sox as my team as well....they need a different ballpark anyway. Nellie Fox Field..yup Went 500 the first year...win the division the next...won the world series in 07..and now am struggling in the divison series against Oakland. I hate the fact that I traded Buerhle for Oswalt. I should've gone after someone who doesnt fall in stats at 29. But eh, I have a young group of players in the field I can keep around for a good five years. I love building guys up in the mini games. Nothing like making Aaron Rowand MVP material. I will now start to build the Nationals. Great project.

MLB: 30 wins for a pitcher, .400 avg, 4000 career hits NFL: 5000 passing yards, a hail mary that wins a big game NBA: A team winning the NBA Title without one star. A qaudruple double NHL: +100 for a regular season, 80 goals I see a quarterback throwing for 5000 yards being the most believable.

Protagonist male who has the hots for attractive female will always wind up caught in a huge lie that starts from a small lie.

Or did that become backstage assualt?