Sly

Beträge zu Nichts or, for a Dutch flare, Bedraagt Niets.

Wow... you're pretty much running my angle, but only in reverse. Good job.

Monday, May 22, 2006 - 7:15 PM The Gate Restaurant in Hammersmith, London The Gate is recognized throughout London as one of the top restaurants, especially for vegetarians. That’s all they serve, after all. Formerly an artist studio, the Daniels brothers converted it into a restaurant over a decade ago and have had a booming business ever since. These two have undoubtedly served many famous people over the years. Tonight, though, they play host to a celebrity of a different sort. Dressed in baggy blue jeans, a classic pair of Puma casual shoes, and a celebratory “The Clash” vintage shirt, the one and only… “Austin Sly?” one of the two Daniels brothers greats the wrestler-turned rocker-turned wrestler again. “I hate to bother you, but there’s a woman here to see you.” “She’s not here for an interview, is she?” Austin asks, spying over the top of his menu. “I’ve been dodging reporters all week.” “No, sir. She says she’s here on official business. Sent by Joseph Peters, I do believe.” “You’d better send her over then,” Austin sighs. The restaurant manager walks over to the front door and directs the woman dressed in all black with a pair of sunglasses pulled down over her eyes towards Austin’s table. Hesitantly, Austin fixes his gaze back down upon his menu, looking quite apathetic towards her arrival. Cautiously she pulls out a chair and takes a seat at the table across from him. “You’re looking well these days Jet,” Sly says without removing his eyes from the menu in his hands. “Should I bother asking why you’re here, or would I be interested at all?” “How did you know it was…” Jet can’t finish her sentence. “You? How did I know it was you?” Austin’s voice perks up, “Peters sent me to London, the home of tea, Big Ben, and Toxxic’s old neighborhood, so to speak. I know he’s from Nottingham, but you get the picture.” “Toxxic and I are long since history. So what does that have to do with me?” “Well, where else could a little ring rat like you get the attention she so desperately wants? Not that I think that you’re a slut or anything, but…” Jet sneers, “that’s quite enough! I’m not about to talk about my past with the likes of you!” “Then why, pray-tell, are you here?” Austin looks up and flashes a smile from behind his menu. “Joseph Peters requested that I meet with you to discuss the possibilities of me making a return to the SWF. And even though I’ve been enjoying laying low for a while, he offered me a rather lucrative deal and…” “Not to be rude but, well… that’s just the way I am. What exactly does any of this have to do with me?” “Well…” Jet’s voice fades a little, “the deal involves me managing you.” “No.” “Now hear me out! I know I might not have made the best of impressions on anyone back when I was with Toxxic, but believe me… I can be quite useful.” “I don’t doubt that, but I travel alone now.” “Still feeling hurt after NTD dropped you?” Jet says with a smirk. “That was out of line,” Austin sneers. “You’re not the only one who can be an ass.” “Excuse me..” the voice of a waiter interrupts, snapping the duo back to reality. “Are you about ready to order?” “I am,” Austin smiles, “this little cum-dumpster over here was just leaving, though. The answer is no, Jet. You can tell Peters that for me too.” Jet lets out a growl as she stands back to her feet. She looks about ready to slap Austin across the face, but instead she just grabs a glass of water on the table and throws it in his face before leaving the restaurant in a hurry. Austin simply smiles and wipes his face with his napkin. ***** Monday, May 22, 2006 - 8:30 PM A hotel room somewhere in London, England Scattered throughout the room is a barrage of clothing, souvenirs, and other artifacts from a trip to one of the largest cities in the world. It’s just another speed bump in the fast lane of life that Austin Sly has been barreling down. The door creeks open, then slams closed as he enters into the room and plops down onto the bed. Austin reaches up and clicks on one of the lamps that have been placed upon the nightstand within his room before placing his small container of leftovers that he has brought back from The Gate. He rolls over onto his back before brushing his hair back with his right hand. *Brrr-Riing.* *Brrr-Riing.* Austin sighs as he sits up on the edge of the bed and stares down at the phone, almost willing it not to ring a third time. Unfortunately for him, it does. He picks it up off the third ring. “Yeah?” he says, lodging the phone between his shoulder and cheek. “Sly!? I’ve been trying to call you for the past half an hour! Where have you been?” “You’re the one that sent me to London, Peters.” Austin reminds the commissioner. “And while we’re at it, you were also the one that book me on this world-wind promotional tour. I haven’t had a decent moment to myself since I landed, what with reporters hounding me and talk shows expecting me and the what-not.” “Get over it, Sly,” Peters says with tension in his voice. “What did you say to Jet? She called me earlier and told me that you refused our deal. I find that to be quite disappointing.” “So?” “Don’t disappoint me, Sly.” “You listen up and hear me good, Peters. I know that you think you’re going to turn me into the next big thing in the SWF. I’ll be a big star, and you’ll get all the credit for capitalizing on my marketability and somehow this will save your miserable time as commissioner, but listen up now because this is the important part… I’m not Toxxic!” “Don’t take that tone…” Peters struggles to get a word in edgewise. “I know the SWF got screwed when his contract expired or he walked out or whatever the hell actually happened, but I don’t care! From this point forward, I’m calling my own shots!” “Now you listen to me!” Peters tries to take back control of the conversation. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I’m still your boss and you will do as I say! You don’t want to be a star, you don’t want to be another Toxxic… well fine! I can make my investment off of you in other ways just as easily! For that matter, you can finish out the rest of your little suspension there in London, and see how that changes your tone! I hope you rot while you‘re…” *Click.* Austin hangs up the phone in the middle of Peters’ tirade, leaving only air to argue with. He places the phone back onto the nightstand before grabbing his travel bag and shoving whatever clothes and trinkets that he can into it. He scoops up his other suitcases on his way out. The door once again creeks as he steps out of the room… *Brrr-Riing.* *Brrr-Riing.* … and then slams closed behind him.

*Wonders when David Cross became Christian Fury.*

I can see it in both posts...

Sorry, but I only have 99 red balloons. Which means that there is obviously not enough of a surplus to supply you with one.

Um...What? Pwned by Mansonosity?

Tuesday, May 9, 2006 – 9:21 AM Baghdad International Airport An early morning flight out of Baghdad, for some, might be too late to leave the hostile environment. Most of the SWF’s workload left last night, fresh on the heels of finishing another episode of Smarkdown. Then why are we here? Why are we watching hundreds upon hundreds of people shuffle through the busy Middle East airport? We’re here because through the hustle and bustle of Iraq’s largest airport, we find one man lurking in his customary trench coat. Even with a hat pulled down over his eyes and sunglasses on, you can still tell it’s… “Austin Sly,” begins a familiar voice. “Why weren’t you on the plane with the rest of the crew last night?” “What are you, my mother now too?” Austin snaps back, “stick to playing commissioner. The role suits you better.” Peters snarls, “You’re trying my patience, Sly. Protocol calls for all members of the touring staff to meet at scheduled times and leave at scheduled times. What do you think makes you so special that you can just skip a flight whenever you want to?” “Fire me,” Austin smirks. “I think I can make it on my own.” “I’m afraid that’s not in the plans.” “Then what are you here bothering me for?” Austin says, taking a quick glance at his watch to catch the time. “Shouldn’t you be on that flight too?” “Your job isn’t to worry about my job. Your job is to go out and entertain the fans and to make me look good.” “There isn’t enough money that you could ever pay me to make you look good, Peters.” “Now you listen to me,” growls the irritated commissioner, “as long as you’re under a contract with the SWF, I might as well own you! You will walk, talk, and act in ways that align with protocol or I will… I’ll…” “Fire me?” Peters calms himself, “I’ll let a certain file slip out into the hands of a few suspecting people.” Austin turns to lash out, but instead decides to bite his tongue. “You want to play rough? Okay, then have it your way Joseph. I’ve already got a plane ticket to the next shit-hole that you’ve decided to stick us in. And by the sounds of it, my flight is finally about to board.” The duo is interrupted as a group of passengers rush past them, probably heading towards a boarding gate. Sly bends over and scoops his bags off the floor of the airport, grasping his ticket in his right hand. “Not so fast,” Peters says, ripping the ticket from Austin’s hand. “I’ll be taking this. Consider yourself on a leave of action for the next month, Sly. Punishment for breaking the rules, you know.” “Great,” a single word manages to escape between the rock star’s gnashed teeth. “I guess I’ll be taking a flight home, then?” “I said a leave of action, not absence. I just have different plans for you.” Peters places a new ticket in his less-than-enthusiastic employee’s hand. “Take a load off, Sly. Enjoy the atmosphere for a while… your plane doesn’t board for another hour. I’ll be in touch.” … and with that, Joseph Peters turns on his heels and disappears into the crowd before Austin even has much of a chance to react. In frustration, he slams his bags back down to the ground and sinks into a nearby chair. Curiously, Austin draws the plane ticket up to where he can see it… … ”London…?”

Unbooked. Yay?

I have fixed my modem and am once again available for bookings and birthday parties and the such.

It's a picture of a bunny. Honest.

There's more testosterone in this thread than there should be.

Wow... even the bookers don't know what Spike is trying to pull.

Main Event - Three-Way Dance For The Cruiserweight Title Grendel© vs Zyon vs "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu Yay for champions keeping their belts. Sub-Main Event - International Title Match JJ Johnson© vs "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins What did Spike do to deserve this? Seriously... Singles Match "The Superior One" Tom Flesher vs Wildchild ~ Workrate. Hardcore Match Insane Luchadore vs Jay Hawke ~ It's not Hawke's environment... but he wasn't the most dominant International Champion ever for nothing. Singles Match Michael Stephens vs Sean Davis ~ See how he crushes the no-shows.

Mmmm... pumpkin. Make sure you don't get her pregnant or anything. Don't want a kid running ar.... oh.

Toxxic is gay? OMG SWERVE?

I'm gone until further notice. I shall explain once I have returned again.

I still have Diablo 2 floating around somewhere... <( ^-^ )>

Why is "DX REFORMS OGMZ!" being advertised along with Shawn and Trips being listed as stars? Seems repetitive...

Now would be a good time to note that my modem at home is fried.

I think all I did to him was smack Candace upside the face with a light tube.

Just so everyone knows... I *am* trying to show... so hopefully I'll have something in tomorrow night.

Drea doesn't like to disclose actual information about herself over the intranets.

I wonder how Mark Henry got his pecks to stretch all the way around to his back.

Holy crap this is a stacked card.