Ace309

There's no buzz about anything. Look on the bright side, though. No one's calling for a double no-show.

But it'll be a six of Brooklyn Porter! SWERVE~!

Well, to each his own. I prefer to mark my territory by fucking other guys' girlfriends and ejaculating on them.

Obligatory Penny Arcade link

Card's partial to real ale. Me, I prefer good, solid porter that you could stick a spoon into and have it stand up.

Hooligans, you ass. ::throws darts at Maddix, then gives him a Glasgow Kiss::

Hire this man.

To the casinos it is. It puts the odds in your favour, thus, it's somehow unfair. Um... there's a reason they don't offer coinflipping at 2:1. The games are selected such that the odds are in the house's favor, and the payouts tweaked so that it pays out less than it statistically "should." Casinos are a business, and I'd be very surprised if anyone walked in there without knowing that the odds are slanted significantly in the house's favor.

...! YOU HAVE A SPONSOR!

A couple years of amateur wrestling did this to me. I absentmindedly crack: - Both elbows - Both shoulders (one was dislocated several times, one just twinged a lot) - My lower back - My left wrist, which crackles because I snapped my arm - Both knees Also, my hips occasionally crack when I stand.

I also do a mean stovetop beef bourgignon. Really, any of Rachel Ray's 30-Minute Meals recipes are fair game for evenings when I need to cook something mildly impressive. My New England Boiled Dinner a la The Joy Of Cooking is great, too... just corned beef with potatoes, cabbage and baby carrots thrown in at various points.

No lawyer understands the rule against perpetuities. The rule against perpetuities is not "They're not allowed."

FYI, that was, I believe, a Smarkdown that I mislabeled a Lockdown when I posted it for review. Mea culpa.

Jesus fucking Christ! He deserves all the props he can get for that.

My understanding is that card counters generally get 'caught' as such when they're careless about varying their bids and playing in ways that are consistent with counting - there are plays that no one in their right mind would generally make, except if you're counting and the deck is in a specific composition. I don't know enough about blackjack to be any more specific. Alternatively, they get asked to leave when they've won huge sums of money, as a standard business practice.

You're also fat.

You know, I could have sworn someone posted something to this effect back on the first page. Long story short, yes. A business can throw you out more or less for whatever reason it wants to, subject to protected-class distinctions. The fact that there are costs for doing so (word-of-mouth spread of bad publicity, etc) just makes it a bad idea to.

I can't help but notice that none of you are in the midcard yet.

Pretzler was Poochie. His match, while it had some inconsistent selling, was just excellent and probably his best piece of writing-per-se yet (although I'm not sure it was his strongest effort as far as wrestling - his writing of Fasaki selling the STF, for example, left a little to be desired). The promos were super, as well. And let us not speak of the match that might have been scheduled after the Wildchild/Maddix main event. I think you'll find that every reference on the show to the main event refers to Wildchild/Maddix. You love Big Brother.

You know, I hated to mark this to lose. There were, however, a few things that took away from it. The writing seemed slightly disjointed at points, whereas Pretzler's flowed really, really well. I had a hard time with the Cobra Crossface being that central and Pretzler seeming to just shrug it off. While Pretzler's match featured inconsistent selling and somewhat weird action, I think it told much the same story about Ejiro's character development in a slightly better way. Frankly, it's a shame you two faced off.

No, no, see, I'm a straight man.

So, here to fill out the midcard, eh?

Shhh.

Maddix has already exited the ringside area, but Wildchild, with all of his belts to carry, takes a bit longer. He rolls under the bottom rope and is handed the Tag Team title by the timekeeper. He drapes it over his left shoulder. Next, he takes the Cruiserweight Championship and places it over his right. “After a match like that,” says Pete, “you earned those titles.” “Actually, he earned them when he won them,” hisses King. “But that doesn’t mean he deserves them.” The audience disagrees. They cheer madly as he begins to walk around the side of the ring and in the direction of the ramp. He smiles. Whether he wins or loses, his fans are always here to support him. He starts to ascend the ramp. “Wait a minute!” gasps Pete. “What…” Looking up at the entryway, Wildchild is oblivious to the blue-and-yellow blur that suddenly comes flying at him from the area below the walkway. WHAM! A lariat knocks him off his feet. He lands hard on the floor. “What in the name of Heaven is he doing here?!” Pete exclaims. As Wildchild attempts to scramble away from his assailant, a flurry of punches rains down on his head. “He is here,” answers King, “for revenge.” Scott Pretzler delivers a final hook to Wildchild’s jaw and crawls under the ring. Other belts. He had told himself there were other belts to go after. Of course there are other belts. Just like there are always other women. But when one is in love, those other women, beautiful though they may be, just don’t seem to matter. Their beauty seems invisible. I need the Cruiserweight Belt. No substitutes are acceptable. Pretzler emerges from beneath the ring. He is holding a ladder. OOOOOOOH! “This is sick. Sick and uncalled for.” “I like it,” King says perversely. Wildchild has managed to stand, but Pretzler corrects that by charging at him with the ladder extended outward and burying it in his gut. He sinks to ground. Groans. Pretzler stands over him, holds the ladder vertically, and pounds him again and again with its base. PRETZ-LER SUCKS! PRETZ-LER SUCKS! “Pretzler already had his match. He lost! And he was denied a title shot. What does he hope to accomplish?” Pete is outraged. WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP! The vengeance-seeking Canadian hauls the champion to his feet and shoves him bodily under the bottom rope. He slides the ladder into the ring after him. Kicks Wildchild in the ribs. Sets up the ladder. He climbs halfway up. Looks down at his prey. Then he pumps his fist into the air and leaps off. CRASH! A flying guillotine legdrop smashes Wildchild flat on the mat. BOOOOOOO! Slowly, Scott Pretzler stands up. He walks over to the corner, climbs to the second rope, and throws his arms into the air. Climbing down, he exits the ring… but not before spitting on the curled-up form of Wildchild. He exits to a chorus of boos and his favorite chant. PRETZ-LER SUCKS! PRETZ-LER SUCKS! The show fades. === SWF Lockdown, April 13, 2005. © Superiority Complex Productions. All rights reserved. The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation: “Raising workrate by typing faster.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Funyon, “please rise for the national anthem.” He was born in the summer of his 27th year Comin' home to a place he'd never been before He left yesterday behind him, you might say he was born again You might say he found a key for every door When he first came to the mountains his life was far away On the road and hangin' by a song But the string's already broken and he doesn't really care It keeps changin' fast and it don't last for long But the Colorado rocky mountain high I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky The shadow from the starlight is softer than a lullabye Rocky mountain high He climbed cathedral mountains, he saw silver clouds below He saw everything as far as you can see And they say that he got crazy once and he tried to touch the sun And he lost a friend but kept his memory Now he walks in quiet solitude the forest and the streams Seeking grace in every step he takes His sight has turned inside himself to try and understand The serenity of a clear blue mountain lake And the Colorado rocky mountain high I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky You can talk to God and listen to the casual reply Rocky mountain high Now his life is full of wonder but his heart still knows some fear Of a simple thing he cannot comprehend Why they try to tear the mountains down to bring in a couple more More people, more scars upon the land And the Colorado rocky mountain high I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky I know he'd be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly Rocky mountain high It's Colorado rocky mountain high I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky Friends around the campfire and everybody's high Rocky mountain high The crowd applauds Funyon’s stirring rendition of “Rocky Mountain High” as the picture fades to the Lockdown opening.