The Amazing Rando

He took that singapore cane like a champ...SABU!! and Mr. Sabu is not used to the distance of a WWE ring, and nearly killed himself (is his arm still fucked up?)

RUN FORREST!

TIME: 2 AM Sunday Morning PLACE: Somewhere Over The Pacific Heading the other direction now, the trio of Bruce Blank, his brother Wayne, and Bloodshed have found themselves back in a red-eye flight across the Pacific and to the SWF’s next World Tour destination…South Korea. First class once again, Bloodshed is wearing headphones and watching a small television, the screen showing replays of OAOAST HeldDown, and Bruce’s destruction of Ultimo Villano X backstage in Salt Lake City(bottom of post linked). The sounds of X’s body striking concrete and steel are heard even outside the headphones, and Wayne watches over Bloodshed’s shoulder, unbeknownst to the self-proclaimed bloody prophet. As the scene on the screen fades to black, Bloodshed removes his headphones. “Ahem” Wayne coughs into his hands, the noise catching Bloodshed off guard as he spins and throws a right hand up, ready to strike. Upon seeing the source of the sound, he lowers his hand. “What do you want?” “I can’t sleep.” “Me neither” is Bloodshed’s response, “but I can handle going a few hours without sleep. No big deal.” Next to them, Bruce is curled up just as he was a few days ago, bandana over his eyes to block out what little light is still in the cabin. “You’ve got a big week ahead of you.” Wayne says, pointing to the small piece of paper in between Bloodshed and Bruce’s seats. Bloodshed glances down at it and then back up to Wayne. “Yeah. We know. It’s all Bruce can talk about. Ever since he lost his Ultraviolent Title I can tell he’s been wanting another shot at some gold. I’ve been in this situation before, though….against Todd Cortez actually.” “Yeah, I saw that. When that big monster…uhm…what was his name, again?” “Edward. Edward James.” Bloodshed’s head drops a bit as the name slips from his lips. “Yeah. I mean, that guy never had the best luck in the world, but I thought you could have won.” Wayne’s words cause Bloodshed to look back up. “Oh you think so?” “Of course. He was a big guy, no focus though. You could tell. It was like he was scared shitless to be out there.” “I thought I was the only one that saw that.” Bloodshed smiled a bit, until Wayne decided to ruin it. “You miss Coy West too?” Bummer. “Yep. Guy had what it took, but he couldn’t leave his family. I left my family a long time ago.” “I still got mine.” Wayne says, the smile on his face wide as he looks over at his snoozing older brother. “Yeah, hey…I know you don’t ever go down to the ring with your brother, but if you want to I wouldn’t care if you were there for our match Monday night. You don’t have to, though. It’s going to be crazy with those weird Doomtopians running around.” “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Bruce is crazy like that, and it depends on what kind of alcohol I can find around Seoul. This tour has been great if for nothing else than that. I’ve been shit-faced in more countries than Skynyrd ever toured in!” “I guess this tour means different things to different people…” came Bloodshed’s reply as he turned back around in his seat. “I’m getting some sleep. Plane should be landing in about four hours.” As Wayne fell back in his seat, a few familiar notes of Kansas hummed out of Bloodshed’s mouth, and he smiled… FADE.

Y-O-U-'-R-E ...IIRC.

Exactly. He might also be afraid of flying. I should have had him drink more.

I see some sort of a patern but I just can't quite put my finger on it. They are all former champions, world or otherwise? They are all former tag team champions (though to be fair, Y2J wasn't a tag champ until after FL00, his first reign being the Quad Tear Match).

Shit, both Ian McKellan and Patrick Stewart were doing TV & Movies 20 years ago... it shouldn't have been THAT hard to make them look younger considering the considerable amount of reference points for both.

Justin Credible d. Tommy Dreamer @ Philadelphia, PA 04-22-00 Tommy Dreamer d. Tazz @ Philadelphia, PA 04-22-00 ^ Explain that one then.

He'll introduce his new manager -----> SKBF!!!

a Hassan/Khali/Diavari type of team would have been fun for just the Wrestlecrapiness of it, with Khali playing Hassan's foriegn cousin that can't get a job or make it anywhere in the US because of discrimination.

Time: 5 AM (Give or take) Place: Somewhere Over The Pacific Sitting in first class was never something Bloodshed had gotten used to, but as he stared out the window at the ocean, he tried to force himself to sleep, hoping he’d wake up back in America. They had to meet Todd Cortez before HeldDown. Next to him sat Bruce Blank, his large frame curled up as much as it can, a flannel bandana wrapped around his eyes and soft snores being heard through the silence of the cabin. Behind the two sits Wayne, nursing some bruises and some sort of potent alcoholic beverage as a result of his bizarre crash hours before. “Yo, Bloody” Wayne whispers, “you awake?” “What?” Bloodshed turns and looks over his shoulder. “I remember, back a few weeks…right before Pandemonium…” “Yeah?” Bloodshed shifts his weight, giving himself a good look behind him. “You asked Bruce, and me I guess, if it was worth it. Well, I’ve been thinking about it. All of this stuff with the OAOAST and the SWF and everything…” “You aren’t involved in the OAOAST deal. That’s all me, him…” he points next to him, “Todd, and Zack Malibu. We don’t need you.” Bloodshed grumbles a bit and starts to turn back around, but Wayne’s hand catches his shoulder. Bloodshed turns back, annoyed. “I know, I know…but I’m there. I’ve seen what you’ve done from backstage and on TV. I saw the chairshots and the blood and the playing cards. I see the way the crowds look at you three there. I’ve seen the way those other guys are when you are around. They don’t like you. They hate you.” “I don’t care.” “But, but…you used to care. I might not have been in the business for a long time, but I’ve been a fan. I saw you do some crazy stuff and the fans loved you. Lately, it’s like you gave all of that up. Alan…Bloodshed…whatever, I was a fan of yours. So was Bruce. He might not say it out loud but I will – I have some respect for ya. You scare the shit out of me sometimes, but look at you, really.” Wayne kind of laughs, a sort of giggle, pointing to Bloodshed’s scarred forehead. “People change.” Bloodshed’s voice came cold, and again he tried to turn back around, only for Wayne to stop him once more. “Is this what you had in mind? Is this what you were looking for when you came into our locker room that night? Were you trying to scare us or something? You knew Bruce was right with you in the OAOAST. Todd Cortez got involved because of Zack, right? And you got involved because of Todd? Well, Bruce got involved because of you.” “What?” “Todd went to Bruce, looking for some muscle. Bruce laughed him off, until he mentioned that you were coming out of retirement for it. He said something about how you wanted to show the world who you really were.” “Bruce never told me anything like that.” “He might not have been in the best shape last week, but he breathes that “Ultraviolent” stuff. He wasn’t going to just take the night off.” “I never said he would, Wayne…now can I get some sleep, we got work to do later and after that shit with the tanks…” “But you asked him…you asked us ‘is it worth it?’ …well, I don’t know about him, but as far as I can tell – it is. All of this. Wildcard or Dead Precedent. Ultraviolent, Tag, whatever. It’s worth it. Everything.” “Good.” With that, Bloodshed turns back around, finally able to get himself comfortable enough to sleep. Just before he closes his eyes, he can hear Wayne one last time. “Thanks.”

Praise Be To Ultraviolence. That was insane.

He does that fine himself, already. BrokeBack To The Future

Tazz didn't save Cole from Heidenrape?

Whatever you say, except... They aren't supposed to. They are supposed to be a way for the fans to connect with the wrestlers in a live environment and let wrestlers get more ring-time with each other so they aren't fucking things up on TV and PPV. At roughly 50 shows a year each, that's about 15 DVDs (at least) a season each.

'God' was their idea, thus automatically making it a good one. I can see at least one possible Sci-Fi storyline ECW can do, that won't seem stupid. They can have a babyface wrestler who is a big Sci-Fi fan. He'll get mocked by some heels for a while for being a geek, loser, etc, and the heels can say he's just like every Sci-Fi fan. The babyface can fight back, and, in the end, beat the heels and prove that Sci-Fi fans can kick ass too. It probably won't satisfy the people who are pressing for a Sci-Fi orientated storyline, but I think it's a good compromise. "Enterprise" Shane Helms, tonight in this very ring...you're facing... KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN~!

The las one was "King Of The Ring" I believe, and was a pretty fun game once you got used to it. I remember owning it. EDIT: The name could have been "Ring King", I just know those two words were somewhere in the title.

I don't think Triple Crown Landon can exist below the glass ceiling anymore. Also, I don't care if you are TCL anymore, you will always be it to me

Final Countdown, yes please.

Bingo. I hope my odd lettering came out okay in that match. Apparently some people won't be able to see it, but suffice to say ... It's Chinese. And babelfish-branded correct.

...ahem.

That's awesome. He so should have used that against Hogan in 98. "Pssssssst...one day you are going to lay down for that Triple H guy from the WWF" *Hogan falls over laughing*

I'm more a fan of Sabuewy.

Yeah, it might be time to take up reading the board below, as I'm sure there will be promos both during their shows and in the folders that have to do with things going on in this fed, at least as far as me and Bruce go.

“Well ain’t that a bitch!” Bruce Blank’s voice erupts as he slams down the receive on the white courtesy phone in the Beijing International Airport, his face grimacing as he turns away and walks back to his seat, his luggage propped into the chair next to him, with Bloodshed next to that, his face piqued with interest. “What now?” “That was Cortez. He says that as soon as we can get out of Beijing we have to get on a flight back to the States. He wants us both on HeldDown.” “Hey, you get used to the jetlag eventually.” “What do you know, you toured around in a bus for a year and a half.” The big man makes a point, and all Bloodshed can do is roll his eyes. “We’ll make it, don’t worry. Besides, I think the flight is the least of our problems. Have you seen this?” Bloodshed throws Bruce a flyer for the Lockdown show. Bruce skims it with his eyes and his mouth slowly drops open. He reads it again. His mouth forms one slow word… “Tanks?” “No shit. Peters’ must have the best damn insurance money can buy.” “No kidding, you can’t recover from shit like I have without a good company medical plan.” “Ditto, though I don’t remember any checks being forked over for any of the times I ended up in the hospital.” Bloodshed snatches back the flyer and reads it over once more. “Look at this damn show. Where’s our tag title shot? We’re champions, too. This is bullshit. Fucking tanks? Zyon and Akira ka-spongebob-whatsits. I don’t care how good they are, I’ve worked way too long in this business to be a sideshow attraction!” “But…you know” Bruce points at Bloodshed’s forehead and shrugs his shoulders, causing Bloodshed to throw the flyer down on the seat next to him and backhand the chair. “You think I give a damn about this?!” he yells and slams his fist into his face a few times, finally stopping just as Bruce tries to intervene. “This doesn’t make me a fucking sideshow!” he screams again, his face showing signs of blood drops beginning to trickle down his face. “You should clean that up before---“ “I didn’t want this! It was given to me! In a fucking gym in the middle of god-damn nowhere. This was GIVEN to me! You want to talk about titles, my name is a title I carried for a long time. It’s not something you can challenge for or take away, but it is damn sure something I was willing to give to as many pieces of garbage that got within arms reach of me and thought they knew what pain was!” “Bloodsh-“ “I changed the way the state of Colorado deals with blood in sports! If it wasn’t for the fact that I couldn’t stand up, I probably would have gotten fined and never would have been able to wrestle there again! I set a precedent that night, and now every time I go near Denver or anywhere else in that stupid state all the promoters and officials look at me and ask me over and over and over if it is going to happen again. And what do I say?” “I don’t know.” Bruce responds, causing a smile to slide across Bloodshed’s lips. “That’s exactly what I say...I don’t know! If they want to fine me, if they want to suspend me, if they want to throw me out of the state, then I will still have forty nine more to go, forty nine more chances to go in front of a hundred people or a thousand and change the way they look at total chaos.” Bloodshed finally stops, his body heaving with hard breathes as Bruce watches on next to him, his mouth hanging open slightly. “You should lay off the caffeine or something. I know what you are saying. You think I didn’t see the looks on people’s faces when they looked at me? You think walking around the world known as the King of Ultraviolence didn’t give people chills? I saw the way they looked at me, and I knew every time I stepped through that curtain that thousands, even millions, of people were waiting to see what I’d do next. And time and time again I proved to them what I was willing to go through. I proved it a month ago at Battleground, and we proved it on Sunday at School’s Out. You think those fans and those dumb Upstart Hooligans thought before Sunday that they’d be pulling staples from their forehead? Do you think anyone in that fucking company knows what they’ve gotten themselves into thanks to Zack Malibu? I don’t even think he knows what he’s gotten himself into!” “Nobody does. Not the SWF, the Toast, nobody. I don’t know what I’m capable of, and I’m not sure you even know what you are capable of. Guys like Zyon, Akira, and those battered Hooligans sure as hell don’t know what we are capable of. This isn’t about winning and losing for me anymore, Brucey. This is about walking away from every match, victorious or not, and knowing that things have changed - new precedents have been set – precedents that will only last until the next time that bell rings and we change the world again.” “Victory is good too, though…” suddenly, Bloodshed is interrupted by Wayne Blank, his head sleepily popping up over the backside of the chairs, he wipes his eyes and throws his arm over the chair. Bloodshed nonchalantly backhands him in the face, knocking him back down. “AAAH!” “Hey, don’t do that!” Bruce yells as Wayne sits back up, holding his face with one hand and the back of his head with the other. “Thanks, br-“ “Do this.” Wayne is suddenly knocked back down as Bruce throws a second punch, this time to Wayne’s throat, causing a gargling sound to be heard as the other Blank brother disappears from view once more. Bloodshed and Bruce share a laugh and shake each other’s hand for a job well done. “Yeah, there will be victory. No doubt about it.” “No doubt.” …Fade…