A Happy Medium

How the hell did I get traded to a contender? Young studish thing?

Whoo...on a contender my first year...and I'm getting better as then season goes on. I wonder if I'll get up to .280, 15 home runs, 80 runs batted in, and 50 stolen bases. A good rookie campaign I see ahead...as well as a possible championship.

What kind of broke-ass IHOP is that supposed to be? Non smoking sections should be burned. One located in the middle of preppie suburbia...the town I live in is damned anal. Only one restaurant to have a cigarette in...in a town of 60000. Non smoking sections blow. No doubt.

Meanwhile, over here in Dallas we don't have a White Castle, but I do know the tale. White Castle gives you a bag of 30 cheapass sliders for like 15 bucks...and it doesn't cost half as much for the bottle of pepto bismol you will need afterwards. It's all good. Oh, and the place we all go to these days is the ihop about ten miles down the road. We could go to the one in our town, but it isn't 24 hours, and it's all no smoking...so we trek down a two lane road that has been under construction since Clinton was in the White House. It's a ridiculous thing, but we go there so often as a group of five to ten people each night, there's enough material to write a movie that lasts three and a half hours. God, so many nights wasted over the last seven months. But eh, could be worse...I mean, I could be one of those preps who hangs out at Wendy's all evening, sitting on the tailgait of his truck, reminiscing about the time they played football two years ago....and were a Von Dutch hat...motherfuckers with their hats!! FYI....there is not much to do around here in these suburbs of Dallas and Fort Worth. Anyways...this will probably become a cult classic..has all the makings of it.

3-10 at home, 8-5 away for my Freedom Fries...wtf? Is there is a new stadium option in this game?

Any chance I can see how many stoeln bases I have?

0-4...score... I'm hoping to bat .250 in April, .300 on base percentage, and hopefully 10 stolen bases.

*prepares to be the fastest designated hitter in history* Damn I love my team logo.

Well, I guess I'm finally about to be drafted. I'd like to play for Chicago, since it's my home town...maybe I'll ask for a trade, since I'm just a worthless prospect at this point. Anyways, found a pic for myself, don't know if it'll work..

Promo: “Dead Time” “All of us fall into The Dead Zone every day, whether it is waiting in traffic, waiting for the people in front of us in the checkout line to finish their transactions with the cashiers, the moment during the bright hours where we lay in bed that extra few seconds before we climb out, or even waiting for the police officer to come back with our speeding ticket or verbal warning to watch out the next time. We all have this Dead Time on our hands ever day, ever week, every month, and every year in our lives!” The scene is a suburban Dallas church, packed to the brim with well dressed worshippers, most with young sons and daughters sitting beside them. Up near the altar, the young reverend delivers the day’s message. He is dressed in the traditional attire, a long white robe with intricate designs, most of which involve crosses. He tops it off with a mullet nearly fit for Jesus Christ himself. He finishes his message, his piercing blue eyes contrasting with his pale skin. The congregation listens with their full attention to this fire and brimstone preacher. “And God gives us this time to think about our past and our future. It’s a way to do some introspection, and through that better ourselves by learning through the past and preparing for the future, for if we cannot confront the past, we have no future!” SWF veteran, but now newcomer in all logical sense, Munich sits alone in his motel room, sitting up in bed, watching late night television after a show in a town he forgets the name of in the middle of Pennsylvania. On his right leg lays a series of frozen pea ice bags he carries around with him on the road, trying to take the activity induced swelling down in his surgically scarred shin. He takes on what he hopes will be his last cigarette of the evening, as he has been smoking often this night, sleep hard to come by. He places the cigarette on the edge of an ashtray next to his bed, and sits forward, taking the peas off of his legs. Munich grumbles as he sees the swelling has only decreased slightly. He places the makeshift ice bags back on his leg, and with a sigh he leans back against the headboard, grabs the cigarette and takes another drag. Looking up at the dull, cream colored ceiling, he talks to himself. “Well, I don’t have much to do tomorrow. Dark match against some…guy, or girl…I don’t fucking know. I can pretty much sleep through the TV show, I may piss people off, but then again, I’ll probably be loaded with some painkillers…they’ll make me sleepy. Yeah, there we go. I shall listen to the Bandits as I rest. Agent 27 takes another drag off of his cancer stick. “God dammit, I’m a cripple. No way can I last one more year without becoming a boring fuck. But the question is; how long until I have gold around my waist again. A day? I could last a day. A week? Of course I could last a week. A month? Could…could I last a month? A year? I could never last a year! My leg would be amputated by then! The now disturbed Munich quickly sits forward in his bed. He nearly snaps his spine and hamstrings in two as the bed shakes violently. “Forever?!” The veteran, obviously on his way to giving himself a heart attack, hops out of his bed, ice bags flying throughout the room. He slightly grimaces as he puts weight on his bad legs, but this pain is nothing compared to that night two years earlier, where a no name jobber for god knows where, Utah shattered Munich’s legs in the most interesting of fashions. Trying to give Munich an atomic drop on the ropes, the young man trips on a rare ruffle in the immaculate SWF ring and falls forward, missing his target and dropping Munich towards the apron. The usually quick reflex Munich, a tad bit intoxicated from drinking early in the day, gets his left foot caught in the ring apron, and comes down, all of his weight coming down upon his right leg. Crunch, it went. Now, back in his hotel room, Munich frantically gathers his street clothes worn only a few hours earlier. Finally, after slipping on his shoes and grabbing his room key, Munich shuffles out of the door and into the Best Western hallway. He walks with a slight limp on the short trip to the lobby. Before he reaches the lobby however, he is cornered by a young female fan looking for an autograph. He quickly signs the piece of paper and walks off with a small smile. “She must be sitting here all night for us.” Munich then strides into the lobby, a boring place at one o’clock in the morning. Upon entering, a nicotine influenced Munich does a scan of his surroundings. He focuses upon Ben Hardy, who stands at a coffee machine, slamming his fist into it. “God dammit! I can’t go for coffee alone! I’m a television personality!” With a smirk, Munich advances to the scrawny Hardy. “So....did the girl get your autograph?” “Well..uhm..no, she didn’t.” “How come?” “She didn’t ask for it. And when I offered to give her mine, she said that she wanted only the real talent’s John Hancock’s.” “I know how that feels, you don’t know how many times parents would bring their kids up to me for autographs, but the kid would turn away and whine for an autograph from a Carnie. Anyways, it’s late. I can’t sleep, you want but can’t get it. Let’s go get some coffee.” The two men exit the motel. The two men now sit at a table at a local IHOP. On top of the table at the sizable booth sits a couple of coffee cups, sugar, creamer, pot of coffee, pitcher of water, an ashtray next to Munich which contains four cigarette butts and a considerable amount of ash, a pack of Marlboros, and a Zippo lighter. Hardy wears a polo shirt, khaki shorts, and a pair of Birkenstock sandals, his off screen persona not much different than onscreen. Munich wears a black t-shirt, jeans, and well worn Converses. After a lull of silence, Munich speaks. “Show looks pretty daunting tomorrow. Ten matches. Two titles are up. One opens the show.” “The Cruiserweight Title on the line is a great way to get the crowd into the show. What are you doing for the show?” ‘I am going to be taking a nice nap, as I groove to the fuckin’ Bandits.” “Bandits?” “The Rx Bandits.” “I haven’t heard them.” “No one in the WF has, I don’t think.” “Why are you going to be sleeping during the show? I mean, don’t have some issues that need to be resolved? Some C-4s to be crunched? Some matches that need a run in?” “First, never use my finisher in a sentence like that again. Second, I’m not booked on the card. Third, I’m not going to “study” anyone on a monitor backstage in the fucking locker room, then make a challenge for a bull rope match. Fourth, I don’t have any issues with people. I either haven’t had a challenge, or I lost in such a “duh” type way that I didn’t feel the need to bludgeon anyone with anything.” “How exactly do you plan on sleeping soundly in a sold out arena?” “Find a semi-quiet place. And I’ll be tired from my dark match, since I am quite sure I will be having one. The only thing that may cause to sleep better or worse is that if I put a lot of stress on my leg, I will need to pop a hydrocodone for pain, which may make me a bit sleepy.” “Painkillers?” “You try wrestling on this without them.” “I don’t care. I’ve seen way too many guys throw it all away through painkillers.” “Look, I wouldn’t worry too much, since I have toned my wrestling style a bit so that instead of only being able to last another six months in this business, I may be able to last a year!!” “Munich, how old are you again? 27-28?” “28.” “Unbelievable. Despite what you may think considering how young this roster is, 28 is a young man in this business.” “I know this, Ben. I have been around the block more than people think. I know what you’re getting at, too. I should change up my style even more so and become a mat wrestler who doesn’t go outside every match. The problem is, I am a whore to the fans. Changing my style will kill my adrenaline rush I receive from those lovable bloodthirsty bastards.” “In the future, Munich; you…you need to think about number one a bit more. You through it all away for what? Trying to stay on the apron instead of taking the much safer spill out of the ring? I’m not telling you to become like a lot of the egomaniacs we have around here. You were, and are something special. You shot up through the JL like you were going to running the whole fed in no time. I don’t doubt you can shoot the ranks once more and achieve greatness. You need to deal with the past and go from right here, right now.” Munich nods at Hardy, and looks down to the table. He quickly pulls out another cigarette and lights it. He takes a big drag, and then exhales the smoke out high towards the ceiling. “Munchie, if you don’t mind me call you that, why did you come back? Munich pauses, then looks Ben Hardy directly in the eyes. “I’m going to be the SWF World Champion, Ben. And I’m not going to let anyone stop me.” “I never get tired of hearing someone say that. You do realize that it’s not going to happen tomorrow, next week, or even in a month, right?” “Earlier, that fact bothered me. But now, I’m thinking I may enjoy the turbulent climb.” Ben takes a hardy sip of his coffee. “So what are you going to do about toning down your style?” “Right now, I’m going to say to hell with it. Later, I may look into learning the finer bits of working an armbar. By the way, you can call me Munchie. I used to not like to be called it, but you know what?” “What?” “Fuck the past, man. Bring on the future.” Fade to black.

Robert De Niro Gregory Peck William H. Macy Bill Murray Tom Hanks Marlon Brando Harrison Ford Morgan Freeman

bumpage

For Munich..give me a built up Vince Vaughn. That could work..yep.

my top five... 1. Life During Wartime 2. Psycho Killer 3. Once in a Lifetime 4. Road to Nowhere 5. Heaven

Any old school SWF'ers remember Cyclone Comet? The guy who thought he was a superhero? Suddenly you see Shane Helms change over to the Hurricane, complete with his own Hurricycle and shit. It was pretty obvious...even tho Helms is a big comic book guy. The timing was just so fishy.

I had a birthday two weeks ago. Yay.

Smarks Board Name: A Happy Medium Wrestlers Name: Munich (new alias: Agent 27) Height: 6’4” Weight: 260 Hometown: Dallas, Texas Age: 28 Face/Heel: Face Weapon(s): “Synergy”…his trusty Easton Synergy wrapped up in barbed wire. Only used in matches he can get away with it legally. Quote: “I’ll fix your little red wagon.” Looks: Munich is a tall man. Not a freakishly tall man like the HVille Thugg or that guy from Europe who scrapes his head on most ceilings, but he’s long. Along with being tall, Munich is built very well. He is not perfectly chiseled and does have meat to him. Two hundred and sixty pounds is a lot of weight and not all of it is muscle. He does not have society’s body. He has a small gut and a happy trail that travels from the top of his chest down to the bottom of his Gulliver. Munich has long brown, almost auburn hair that flows to the top of his back. His bags hang down to his chin, sometimes blocking out facial expressions all together. To go along with the hair, the man has very dark brown sad eyes that are framed by bushy, almost evil, eyebrows. His facial grows almost uncontrollably, but he usually goes with sideburns down to the earlobe and a soul patch on his chin. He has no piercing or tattoos on his body. In Ring Attire: Black wrestling boots, black pants, black elbow pads, and taped up fists. Doesn’t bother to wear his customary black t-shirt to the ring anymore, but wears it on the way down the entrance ramp, before ripping it off and tossing it to the ramp, but not before lovingly pulling his pack of cigs out of the shirt pocket. Out of Ring Attire: Cigarette tucked behind his ear, jeans or shorts, and either t-shirts or lightweight long sleeved shirts. And a torn up pair of Chuck Taylors. Ring Entrance: “Gimme Shelter” by The Rolling Stones kicks up on the PA, and out saunters (love that word…even if it may have a feminine connotation to it…fuck it) Munich…black t-shirt only thing different from his normal In Ring Attire. Inside the shirt’s pocket sits a pack of cigarettes. At the top of the ramp, Munich takes the cigarettes out of his pocket and places them vertically on the ramp. Munich lifts the shirt off over his head and throws it onto the steel. He then makes a quick walk to the ring, slides under the bottom rope, and goes about doing warm exercises in the ring. Stats: ¯¯¯¯¯ Strength: 5 (Not very surprising that Munich has had a slight increase in strength since his major leg injury, having to compensate for a lack of speed) Speed: 3 (With the injury that lead to crutches for four months, his speed has taken a noticeable decline. He will still show flashes of speed at certain points in a match, and still has a few top rope maneuvers. Vitality: 7 (Not an easy thing to explain, but Munich can take a lot more damage than he used too. Might have something to do with his pain threshold increasing after the agony that the shattered leg brought) Charisma: 5 (Same old, same old..more of a dry humor these days than the past) Style: Technical Brawler. Pretty does everything except high flying, since his leg can no longer take the punishment of constant flight Signature moves: 1. Munich Edge – Crucifix Powerbomb that sits out…usually done from the corner to an opponent sitting on the top turnbuckle. 2. Plan M – Shoulder Jaw Breaker. 3. Guilty Pleasure – Running Clothesline to the back of the head. 4. BAMBOOZLE!! – The opponent is down, and Munich hits the victim with a running dropkick to the back of the head. Usually makes a nice thwack sound. 5. C4 Crank – Swinging neck breaker on the exposed bottom steel step. Munich normally does this move in a prolonged battle on the outside. 6. Leap of Cynicism – Guillotine leg drop from the top rope. 7. Once in a Blue Moon - Munich collides into the steel stairs quite a bit. He has a habit of slamming in knees first and tumbling over them. Noticing this, Munich has come up with a counter, that never really has a good possibility of working. Munich is whipped into the stairs, but is able to, once in a blue moon; steps up onto them and leap to the crowd barrier, which he tries to land on. After perching on top, Munich comes at his opponent with a small aerial move from the barricade, usually a diving clotheline, but go ahead and get creative. 8. The Lucky Strike (usually used in desperation, but works well. A lunging left hook that at least dazes opponent) Common moves: 1. Hanging Vertical Suplex 2. Inverted Atomic Drop 3. Figure Four Leg Lock 4. Half Boston Crab 5. Reverse DDT 6. Reverse Neck Snap (The victim is on their stomach on the mat. The attacker charges them grabs the victim under their chin and performs a forward flip, wrenching the neck back.) 7. Stungun 8. Fisherman Suplex Pin 9. Dragon Suplex Pin 10. Firemans Carry to STF Finishers: 1. C-4 Crunch – Cradle Piledriver 2. Wagon Repair – Standing Full Nelson. Munich usually does this after working over his opponent’s neck through out a match. Munich likes to set up near the ropes, his back to them, so his opponent cannot walk to the ropes and get his legs around them. Notes: Doesn’t have many laws he lives by. He isn’t a coward. He isn’t Superman. He doesn’t strike women..at all. He isn’t fast, and he is not overly strong. He is just who he is. He is a tragic hero. His tragic flaw being a shattered leg he suffered two years ago in one of his last matches for the SWF that will keep him slowed down for the rest of his career. Many moves have been lost from his repertoire, and some of the moves he does now are maybe too risky for his leg to support. Bio: It’s kind of long and I don’t feel like making up events for two years of rehab following a shattered leg.

Munich - Detachable Pepe

Aw fuck... As I type this, I sit in my cousin's basement. I'm in Dekalb, Illinois, which is a full 900 miles from my house in Dallas. Add the fact that I will not be home until the 6th, and it looks like I may be no showing. Anyways, awesome card.

I saw it Thursday night, and it was six bucks well spent. from Patches to Team Blitzkrieg, I was a giggle machine. Me'shell in the moped was brilliant.

Heh, I marked the scoop slam match. Ah...memories.

Ghandi Barry Bonds Alexander the Great (he wasn't THAT great)

Hey, how long until they come out with low carb enemas and low carb c-sections?

HHH - You will never be World Champion!! Benoit - Why? Because I'm not a part of the groovy bandage club?!?!

I meant Madison, by the way. The stadium is called the Kohl Center. Seats 17000 for basketball, so it's believable to have a show there. You know, so it spurs the imagination a tad.