frisco

I take full credit I write a silly post like that and I inspire a Smart Marks reunion. I should have done something like this for the Beatles when I had the chance! Silly or not, if it somehow generates some interest and get this place running again than that's a good thing.

I got a chuckle out of it. In all honesty though, I do really miss this fed. The truth be told, you guys were the most intense I've ever been involved with. There were some guys here who were very talented writers, some very consistant assholes. All in all it was fun.

Candace drops by, looks over now dead fed, and snickers. Glances at her collection of world championship title belts ( 5) and hall of trophies ( 3) then reminises on the shitty treatment she got on her debut in the SWF. Stops by the grave, takes a little tinkle on it, then leaves. Then spots another mouse and feeds it to her cat.

Kendrick is nothing special. It amazes me that people build this guy up as the next HBK or whatever. I had a pretty good feeling he was on the way out when he went on his recent losing streak--getting crushed by Jerry Lawler is never a sign of future World championship reigns. He was a small guy in big guy infatuated WWE. He might do better in TNA, but I doubt he'll be a headliner.

Did you just call Melina and Candace Michelle unattractive? Well then if you're a dude you simply have to be Liberache-like Gay. If you're a girl you're probably one of those jealous as hell types because you look like Rosie Odonnel of something. Sorry to all the Smarks here, but the main reason i'd watch the show is for the pudding match. I could give two shits about Cena Khali...I don't want to see 65 year old (or whatever his age is) Vinnie Mac---the new King of extreme---wrestling LAshley who would in reality kill him in 5 seconds---or just about any other match on the card. This is probably the weakest PPV line up i've seen in a while, but the idea of Melina and Candace in bikini's rolling around in pudding at least gets my attention. I'll pick up the DVD next month primarily for that match. I won't pay $50 for this on PPV.

Congrats. 7 and a half years? Well then it's about damn time.

Black people have nappy hair. Its a fact. Al Sharpton probably has the nappiest hair on the planet. Is Imus a racist because of what he said? Possibly. Is Al Sharpton a racist because he worked as hard as he did to keep a Jewish store from opening in a blackneighborhood? Absolitely. Sharpton had those kids tried and convicted for raping that black exotic dancer...yet now they she admits she lied he still hasn't apologized for all the things he said about them. If Imus is a racist Sharpton is a bigger one---yet he keeps his job. PC sucks.

It's too bad that a lot of people are taking these shots at Mark Henry. The man gets a serious, career threatening injury and people are calling him a peice of shit. Anyone who posts something like that is an asshole who is not worthy of the "smark" nickname that consider their birthright. Henry has been a very solid heel for Smackdown as of late. He broke his knee cap in half and tore the Patella tendon completely off the bone. He's facing an 8 month rehab and shitheads show their class by blasting the guy. Dinks!

I don't like the new law. I tend to oppose big government, and that is exactly what this law is all about. Governent sticking their noses in peoples personal lives.

I think the whole idea with the Spirit squad is for them to be annoying as hell. It's typical cheap WWE heat building 101...if your really annoying people will pay to see you get your ass kicked. Now whats more annoying that a group of gay frat boys (there...I said it first) with air horns? The WWE isn't looking long term with these guys, they'll keep them around until they get boring then they will break up the group. Are they good or bad? good. The reason they are good is because they are drawing attention to the WWE. The mere fact that there is a threat here discussing their merits is proof that they are at least doing an effective job of getting our attention.

I think the brand split will probably end. As stated it makes more sense for WWE vs ECW anyway. I always thought the whole idea of two WWE world champions was bull. What I thik will happen is ECW will open its doors, and a few stars from RAW and Smackdown will head off to ECW again (RVD, Tazz and maybe a few others). WWE will reunite to take on the threat of ECW...probably another invasion angle...and things should hopefully get back to normal.

Just saw the PPV, and I thought it was pretty solid. I called in sick from work tonight, opting instead for a comfortibe seat in front of my 42" Plasma TV and the wrestling PPV. I can't say I regret the decision too much. Enjoyable card with quite a few surprisingly decent matches. I expected the Khali vs Taker match to blow, and it was actually fairly decent. Khali still can't wrestle for shit, but he's so damn big and menacing he at might not have too. I have to say I think his finisher--a stupid chop to the head--is about the lamest finisher I ever saw. But it was good to see Taker job clean. I mean Taker is clearly at the end of his road, so why not job him to put other people over? Enough people have done as much to put him over in the past. Angle and Henry was probably the worst match of the night, and even then it was fairly ok. I have to complain about count out finishes in PPV's though...thats just lame. People don't pay $35 for count outs. Bad night for my girl Melina. Hopefully she'll show up at RAW. Splitting up MNM was a terrible decision on WWE's part.

It's not perverted to want to see girls in revealing clothing. Last time I checked that was normal male heterosexual behavior. The pervert remark was in response to downloading porn. Still fairly normal guy stuff, but I always find it kind of slimy lurking in the shadows watching porn on my computer. I'm not quite that bad.

Wrong and semi-wrong. Melina's okay looking, Jillian looks like some sort of cyborg with implants with those eyes of hers. Neither of them are decent wrestlers, unless you go by the WWE women's standards, i.e low standards. Download some porn, it'll be cheaper. I knew someone out there agreed with me. Jillian is NOT hot at all. Jillian ain't bad looking. The best thing about her is she can actually WRESTLE. It's one thing to look great in a match, but it also helps if you can wrestle a bit. Candace Michelle looks good...but she ain't to skilled in the ring. I think Melina is a whole lot more than "Okay" looking. And I don't download internet porn. I like looking at girls for sure, but i'm not a perv. Besides if I get a virus on my computer and have to send it for repairs I won't exactly be saving money.

Well outside of Benoit and Finley the only real match I'm looking foreward to is Melina and Jillian. I mean two hot babes interests me a whole hell of a lot than anything involving the great Khali (AKA Giant Gonzales 2) or Mark freakin' Henry. Benoit and Finley should be an awesome match up. Booker T and Lashley should be pretty good. But i'm really sick of Lashleys hold "Quiet man" gimmic. They should of built him up as this unstoppable monster...not Mr. Nice guy. MNM vs London and Kendrick are not impressed with. I like MNM because they're...IMO...a whole hell of a lot more entertaining to watch. London and Kendrick are like 6 year olds on Jolt, bounce around all the time and have about as much energy as the spirit squad, but ultimately I find them boring...and a little annoying. JBL will beat Rey...hell that already made Rey look like a stumble bum the last 2 weeks on Smackdown. He'll definitely drop the belt to JBL, then go off for surgery. WTF is the WWE thinking on having its champion loose in clean pin falls two weeks in a row? Gregory Helms vs Super Crazy might be a decent match, but at the same time I can't help but feel its not a PPV worthy match up. Melina and Jillian are both really hot AND decent wrestlers. The match itself might not be the second coming of Finley vs Benoit, but for damn sure I'll enjoy oggling the babes. I just hope they wear revealing clothing.

Since I might as well finish what I started I’ll at least finish the story… A long black Limo pulls up to Candace’s house in the early morning. A heavy rain is falling today as the limo driver attempts to park under a tree to avoid the downpour. After considerable searching he gives up in vain. As the limo stops the passenger side door flies open and Frisco bolts to the door. He stops to catch his breath under a flimsy canopy while he pounds at the knockers. After a brief pause the door opens and Frisco enters the old house. “Damn It’s a typhoon out there” he remarks as he hands Lobo his jacket. “Where’s Candace?” Lobo points to the kitchen as Frisco makes his way there with a sense of urgency to his step. As Lobo can immediately tell something is up he drapes the jacket over the couch and follows him into the kitchen. Candace is busy washing the dishes as Frisco enters. She is still wearing the thick black leather mask as well as an arm sling courtesy of her last match at Smartdown. She glances at her manager as he grabs a soda from the fridge. “We gotta talk” Frisco states as he pops open the soda. “What?” Candace asks as she approaches her manager. “First I’ll preface this with a well known fact. I’m an asshole” Frisco starts which does not bring nearly the response he was hoping from the Dragon. She merely nods In agreement. “But I always do what I know to be in the best interest of the people I manage. Now you might not believe me at this particular moment but I always did what I knew to be in your best interest” he continues. “Like having Tanner power bomb me in the dressing room?” she responds which receives a casual shrug from Frisco. “Yeah” he replies. “I wanted you to give up. I wanted you out of this place. It was a bad idea to come here from day one” he rants as Candace looks on. “Look there are legitimate federations where they really more on wrestling than gimmicks. Every damn match with you has either been a hard core match or a cage match. It’s all stunts here. You’re a professional wrestler. What does driving a light bulb in your face have to do with wrestling? Did Brett Hart make a career out of hardcore matches?” Candace nods in agreement with Frisco’s logic. “Is there a point?” she asks as he continues on his soda. “Yeah, a beaut..” he continues. “Take off the mask!” A look of real concern crosses Candace’s eyes. She has no desire to confront her own scars. “No” she replies as she walks back to the dishes. “You need to see something. So I’m not asking you, I’m telling you…take off the mask!” Frisco exclaims as his voice rises to show he is dead serious. Candace looks unimpressed as she realizes she could probably kick Frisco’s ass even with an arm-sling on. She considers his demand for a moment, and then her own curiosity gets the best of her. She reaches to the back and unlocks the tightly applied mask and tosses it to the countertop. As Frisco looks on she approaches him with a large ABD pad still taped to the side of her face. The 2 by 3 cling bandage has already been removed as the doctor had deemed that area healed. Candace’s raven black hair was already staring to grow over that scar and in no time it would be nothing but an unpleasant memory. “Now take off the dressing!” Frisco barks as Candace shakes her head in denial. “The dressing needs to be on for three or four months she replies as Frisco lunges over and rips it off in one fluid move. Candace screams in surprise as Lobo barges into the kitchen. As his eyes focus on Candace’s face they grow wide with shock. “What the fuck?” he barks as Candace runs to the closest mirror. She is stunned to see her face is perfectly free of scars. “What the hell?” she asks in amazement. Frisco quickly polishes off the soda and continues. “Call it shock value” he mutters as Candace can not believe her ears. “I wanted you to think you were scarred. I wanted to think that ass monkey Austin Sly was successful in his quest to maim you. He hit you with the light bulb but it impacted at the hair line, not on your face. I mean with all the blood no one could say for sure but once the doc cleaned you up in the dressing room I recognized the tremendous teaching opportunity. In short you’re fine now, but think of what could have been if he hit you with that glass…” Candace continues to stare in the mirror as she gently runs her fingers over her intact skin. A smile crosses her face for the first time in weeks. “It’s time to move on. This place has some good things going for it, but at the same time there are a lot of real ass wipes here and you don’t need that shit” As Candace continues to stare at her intact cheek Frisco instructs Lobo to start loading the car with Candace’s personal belongings. “I’ll have Tanner come by latter with a U haul and you guys can get the rest. Right about now I think we best make a speedy exit from this place” Candace notices the obvious fact that Frisco is in a major hurry to get out of dodge. “Why the rush?” she asks. “Well I kind of left a little going away present for certain people in the SWF” he says with a smile as he helps Candace put on her coat. “Just a few of the more advanced dick heads like Flesher, Austin Sly, Andrea Monkey asshead, and Toxxic…” “Anyone else?” “Probably a few others, can’t remember them all but I was a bit busy” As Frisco escorts her to the limo he notices the rain has started to wind down. “What did you do?” Candace asks as Frisco opens the back door to the limo. “I put crazy glue on their toilet seats” Frisco says with a wry smile. “A little something to remember us by!” As Lobo joins the group Frisco and Candace step into the back of the Limo. Lobo enters the passenger side as starts the car. A white puff of smoke billows from the exhaust as the car backs out of the drive way. As the rain begins to stop the black limo heads down the road and off into the sunset. Somewhere birds are chirping…

It's probably time for him to call it a career. I've always been a great Ric Flair fan, and in a perfect world I'd love to see HHH put Flair over clean in his final match...but most likely that won't happen. I'd imagine Vince McMahon wants Flair to put over Cena...and perhaps a few more up guys he wants to push...before Flair finally retires. As for quiting the sport entirely I'd hate to see that. I'd like to see him return as GM to either RAW or Smackdown. Either that or become a manager and manage a whole new generation of heels.

It's good for a heel. I mean the whole idea is for HHH to generate heat, and what better way to piss people off than keep of relentlessly telling people how wonderful he is? Although I did have a revelation. I realized someone who was actually even better on the mike than the Game. Someone who is ever more skilled at being an asshole...Vince McMahon Now that guy is something special.

Well I don't particularly thing Edge, Funaki or even Flair is as good on the mike as the Game. Granted in his time Flair was awesome, but lately he's kind of become a characture of what he once was. Now all you ever get out of him is "Woooo!"...to bad because in his prime he was the best in my opinion. Edge...meh. The guy trips over his own words too often. It seems every time he talks for any length of time he'll be stumbling over his words at the worst possible moment. He doesn't look as smooth or polished as the Game, and isn't as entertaining IMO. Funaki...Yeah maybe he's the guy! The majority of the criticism about the Game is because of WHO he married more than anything else. So he married Stephanie McMahon...it's not like she needs a bag over her head or anything. I always thought she was fairly hot. Regardless of who he's married to I still think he's the best out there at the moment. Granted telling people the same thing over and over might seem annoying, but pretty much all the starts to that. Austin hasn't really changed his gimmic over the years. It's all a bunch of "whats"..Playing with his watch, and drinking beer. Most all the stars to the same thing until we get sick of them and they have to change. I wouldn't expect HHH to be any different.

I find it funny that everyone is so sure that HHH is going to beat Cena at Wrestlemania. personally I'm expecting Cena to get the victory. It won't be based on talent...because regardless of what the Smarks say about HHH he is light years ahead of Cena talent wise, but I think HHH will put Cena over because the WWE wants to build up Cena as a champion. HHH is also light years ahead of marbles in the mouth Batista, yet the Game put that guy over as well. The main reason...marrying the bosses daughter aside...that HHH is so popular is because he's the best talent on RAW. Now I'm not saying he's the most skilled wrestler, but he's the best mix of wrestling skill and genuine mike talent going now. The only other star in his class is Kurt Angle, and Randy Orton is starting to get there also. If you look beyond a great moveset, you eventually realize that they need to have great mike skills to get storylines over and make us either care about or hate the characters. HHH is incredibly good at making us hate him. Those are the things that inspire us to buy tickets and thats the bottom line in the WWE. Name one star in the WWE better on the mike that HHH?

It's been fun. I've enjoyed my two tours of duty hear in the SWF. My time is really getting limited as of late. I just started school...again...this semester and already it's getting very head study wise. I need 18 more credits for my degree and i'm determined to get it done soon, so I've got to buckle down a bit. That combined with running my own fed and doing cards there make for a very, very busy Frisco. I've had that sinking feeling...when you know yourself what your doing writing wise isn't close to your best...for a while now. The last three or four matches I turned in I really felt we're pretty lousy. So it comes to a point where I have to make some decisions on how to budget my time. So thanks for the memories, and I've enjoyed the SWF. Good bye and good luck.

{Okinawa Japan Fall 1991} Kumica quietly picked it up, and then stared intently as the dagger. Her eyes locked on the reflection of her face on the razor sharp, serrated blade. Her image moved close to the dark red bloody mess on the business edge of the knife. She dropped her young eyes to the dead body of the Japanese lawyer…lying at her feet. She focused on the deep gash running across his throat…the source of the torrent of blood that was streaming across the floor and towards her feet. Yakuza assassin I told you to stay in car! Kumica raised her eyes as she saw her father racing towards her. A look of surprise washed over her nine year old face as the man grabbed her by the arm and jerked her away from the dead body. Yakuza assassin We’ve got to go…now! The hit man dragged the stunned Kumica from the bloody scene and quickly escorted her outside, where his black Mercedes Benz waited patiently for their arrival. He frantically pulled open the back door, and then shoved Kumica into the back seat. In a moment he ripped open the drivers’ side door and started the car. It kicked in after a momentary sputter, and then sped off into the dark Tokyo night. Kumica remained silent in the back seat. A terrible fear choked at her throat as her mind played endless replays of her father butchering the lawyer in front of her eyes. As tears began to well in the young Asians beauties eyes her father fired a fleeting glance in her direction. Yakuza assassin You will say nothing of this…ever… Kumica remained silent in the back seat. Her eyes shifted away from her father, and towards the lights on the Tokyo streets. She locked her focus on them as they passed by in a consistent rate. They we’re on the highway now and the Mercedes was moving at a good rate of speed. The lights seemed to dart by quicker and quicker…as Kumica’s eyes continued to well up with tears, the blurry image of the lights appeared to blend into a steady, yellow line…a line that seemed to be taking the young girl from her innocent past, and leading her to an uncertain future. {Okinawa Winter 1992} Yakuza assassin Kumica!! The young Asian girl raced up the stairs and darted under her bed. A look of terror flashed across her face as she knew what her father wanted. She had seen him come home like this many times before. It was always for the same reason. She slammed her pretty Asian eyes shut as she heard the loud, staggering footsteps heading up the stairs. Once again Kumica’s father was drunk of Sake…once again he had returned from a wild night in the city…and once again he wanted sex. Kumicas' mother…Yumica…was working tonight. In her absence her father had already selected a replacement. A chill ran down Kumicas’ spine as she realized she was going to be raped…again…by her father. Seighi Okimura was a feared Yakuza hit man. He had risen fast in the group due to his wanton disregard for human life. He would kill anyone without batting an eye or suffering a moment of remorse. He was a truly vile human being; A cold blooded killer. He had married Yumica, a beautiful young Japanese Pro wrestler he had met at one of the events in the Egg Dome. They had been married for two years when Kumica was born. The young couple has quite a lot of money from their respective livelihoods, but Seighi proved very adapt at spending it as soon as it came in. Kumicas’ father partied the nights away in the city while tossing money around like a madman. He often paid upwards of $1000 yen on some of Tokyo’s most beautiful Geisha’s. Evidently tonight he was not satisfied with his latest foray into adultery…he wanted one more conjugal encounter before the evening was through. He wanted Kumica… Yakuza assassin Kumica! Where are you! The little girl’s eyes danced across the floor. She peered under the bed at the old, wooden door leading to the bedroom. She held her breathe as she narrowed her eyes. The heavy, staggering footsteps past by the door…then stopped. Kumica shifted her eyes slightly to her right…the head of a floor nail…sticking out slightly from the old Hardwood…was within her reach. She noticed the door opening as her drunken father entered the room. She quietly reached her hand over and grabbed onto the nail. Hopefully the drunken man would not be able to find her in the darkness… hopefully he would just go to bed and sleep it off… Kumica locked her tiny fingers around the slightly bent shaft of the nail. She pulled hard and it slowly began to lift from the floor. Kumica held her breath in a desperate effort to remain silent. She wasn’t quite sure what she would do with the nail…but if her father discovered her under the bed perhaps it would at least provide a deterrent to his advances. Kumica hated her father. He had raped her countless times. It was always the same. His mother would be killing herself to make a good living as a Pro wrestler in Tokyo. She wrestled on a nightly basis and taught young girls to wrestle in a small school in Nagasaki in the day. This unfortunately led to the young Kumica being raised by her father, who was perhaps the worst role model in all of Japan. While other girls we’re learning the refined social skills of the Japanese culture…Kumica was being taught how to kill. Seighi Okimura dreamed of the day his daughter would follow him into the Yakuza…a very rare accomplishment in male dominated Japan. Kumica shifted under the bed as she spotted the highly polished Italian leather shoes of her father stumbling towards the bed. With every step she could hear the creaking of the wooden floor boards. In a moment he was less than a foot away. The drunken Yakuza…leaning against the very bed Kumica was hiding under. Her brow furrowed with fear as she mumbled a mute prayer that Sieghi would fall asleep on the bed. She could wait until then…until he was asleep…until her mother came home… Yakuza assassin KUMICA!!! The little girl tightened her grip on the nail and slid it out from the wood. As the slid it behind her back she watched in terror as her father stuck his face under the bed. A furious scowl flashed across her face as he lunged his hand under and grabbed his daughters arm. He dragged her out and pulled her to her feet. SMACK!! Seighi drove his hand hard across Kumicas’ face. A trickle of blood dripped from her lip as Kumica instantly fell to the floor. The huge Yakuza grabbed the waifish girl and tossed her dismissively on the bed. A look of terror flashed across her face as he slowly edged menacingly closer to her. A wry grin flashed across his face as he reached down and unbuckled his belt…a familiar warning sign to the young Kumica. Yakuza assassin Your mother is not home…she’s working again! Kumica slowly inched towards the head of the bed; her young eyes frozen in terror as her father slid his pants down to his knees. Yakuza assassin Perhaps if she were home more often… Kumica locked her eyes on her father. She had heard this excuse many times in the past. Once again Seighi would rape his daughter…once again he would some how blame her mother for his actions…and once again he would promise her it was the last time. She had a nice stuffed toy coming in the morning… Seighi grabbed at Kumicas’ white school blouse and pulled it over her head. A stream of tears coarsens down her cheeks, slowly melting into the trickle of blood oozing from her lower lip. She gazed her tear-filled eyes into the cold, emotionless eyes of her father. He didn’t even notice. Yakuzi assassin Lie down! Seighi shoved Kumica to the bed. She grabbed her black and red shirt and savagely pulled it down to her knees as she pleaded with him to stop. He disregarded her cries and in a moment was crawling up her body like a spider on to a fly ensnarled in his web. Yakuzi assassin You will enjoy this… The booze laced smell of Seighi’s rancid breathe washed over Kumicas’ face. He leaned over her as he dropped his eyes to her breasts…which had not even begun to develop at this age. He crawled on top of her and reached down towards her… The things that Seighi had taught Kumica began to flash past her eyes… How not to complain… How to do as she was told… And his final lesson… How to kill without remorse… THUNK!!!! The terrified nine year old pulled the rusty floor board from behind her back and drove it fiercely upwards into Seighi’s jugular. A torrent of blood shot out as a look of amazement flashed over his face. The massive Yakuzi sprung to his feet and staggered back across the room. He frantically reached to pull the spike out; but as he did the flow of blood only increased further. Seighi fell back through the door, and then went tumbling down the stairs with a ferocious thud as his limp body him the bottom embankment. CRASH! Kumica waited on the bed for a long while. Her eyes focused on the trail of blood that ran from the bottom of the bed, across the floor, and ultimately down the stairs of the old house. She listened intently for some semblance of noise from her father; The silence was deafening. As she perked her ears for any sound at all she could hear the soft murmurings of the neighbors, who were undoubtedly awakened by the loud commotion from their room. After a while Young Kumica heard a car pulling up. As the car came to a stop she could recognize the door slamming…then the familiar jingling of keys. Kumica sprung from her bed and ran to the top of the stairs. Her eyes darted to the front door of the house... It slowly opened… She waited desperately for a reaction as her mother, Yumica, stepped through the threshold. The Asian beauty stopped dead in her tracks and glared at the lifeless body of her husband. A look of disbelief flashed across her face, as she darted her eyes up the stairs and to her daughter…who was covered in blood and holding a large, steel nail in her trembling hands… Candace jolted up in the bed as her scream pierced the silent night. The Asian beauty…trembling visibly as her eyes searched her surroundings…quickly turned her attention to the hollow imprint on the bed next to her. She paused to regain her composure as a set of rapid fire footsteps raced over the hallway carpet and into the bedroom. Candace quickly glanced up to find the Devil Matsumoto hurrying to her bedside. The Devil came to an abrupt stop as she instinctively recognized what had occurred. Matsumoto Want some tea? {10 minutes latter} Candace took a long sip of the soothing herbal tea. A late night infomercial was playing softly in the back ground as the Asian beauty directed her eyes to the screen of the 13 inch RCA TV set. Former fitness Guru Jack LaLaine was hard at work selling his patented juice maker as a group of studio members reacted with the expected highly impressed responses. Candace turned her attention to Matsumoto, who was gently rubbing her shoulders to help calm her nerves. Candace Sorry Tomoko…another nightmare… Matsumoto nodded quietly as she continued her back rub. Devil Your father? Candace nodded quietly as her mind wandered back to that night. A night that served to forever change her life. The police arrived shortly after her mother came home. Yumica took the blame for killing her husband, rather than turning her daughter over to the police. Candace’s mother was well aware of the fact Seighi was a terrible husband. She didn’t realize his actions included raping their daughter on a regular basis, but once she saw the situation she quickly realized what had been going on. Yumica would be sent off to Nahal where she would spend the rest of her life in prison for a murder she did not commit. Kumica would be sent to her Grandmothers house where she would spend the rest of her childhood. The events of that night would never again be revealed to anyone…with one notable exception…Matsumoto. Three years after Yumica was sent to Nahal, she send a young inmate…Tomoko Matsumoto…to live with Kumica and her Grandmother. As the months past into years and Kumica and Tomoko grew into the young Candace and Devil Matsumoto the secret eventually was told to the Devil. Outside of that it would never be revealed to anyone. Candace again took a sip of her tea. She turned her attention back to the Devil. Candace Why are you up? Matsumoto shrugged her shoulders as she glanced over at the infomercial. Matsumoto I watched some videos… Candace turned her attention to the infomercial as well. Candace Susan’s matches? The Devil nodded silently as she took a sip from her tea. Candace You can skip the end of the one in Canada… A slight grin stretched over Devils lips. Devil That my favorite part… Candace furrowed her brow as she flashed a pouty smile at Matsumoto. She remembered well how Susan Rigger pulled off her top and showcased her exposed breasts throughout the arena on that night. It was sandwiched between a pair of Angel slayers so the actual event was a blur…but she definitely knew Matsumoto would have the match on video. Devil Candace gone wild! Candace looked on in embellished dismay. She quickly released a nervous giggle, as Matsumoto is barely able to control her laugh. Candace You’re sick! Matsumoto nodded in agreement as she flicked off the infomercial. She slowly got off her chair and headed towards the door. Matsumoto I’m going to bed…it’s been a long day Candace nodded in agreement as she finished off her tea. Candace That sounds like a good idea…

It's a little thing called character development. All the wrestlers in the SWF must have some story behind them. Just introducing a character as a heel or face and not offering anything other than that is pretty unsatisfying in my eyes anyway. I've always enjoyed writing the rps far more than the matches, so I figured i'd "rp for the sake of rping" as I mentioned in the topic description. Granted candace's background might be a bit dark, but thats my writing style. I find some of the most vivid characters come from the darkest of backgrounds.

"No chance of winning" Well thats probably true. I won't be writing...especially after being asked to write a match for the RAMADOMINATION PPV that wasn't even included in the card. I guess the only surprise in the "Festivus" was on me for writing something for nothing. I wasn't booked in the three cards leading to RAMADOMINATION, then I get a PM i'm in a "secret Festivus role". I write a lengthly segment that doesn't even get put in the PPV; talk about being played for a fool. Now after a five or six card unbooked stretch I discover this morning i'm booked in "Clusterfuck"...which would mean i'd be writing a 15000 word match that would be due tonight. Yeah, no chance is right. No chance i'll be writing this time.

Note: This segment was initially planned for SWF Ramadomination. However to a mix up it didn't make the show, so here it is in all it suspect glory. (Opening ceremonies) “Welcome to Festivus” Joseph Peters scanned the room. A slight chill ran up his spine as he noticed the eight eyes peering into his very soul. Four of the SWF’s Superstars…Stryke, Manson, Candace and Jason Von Dierch…sat at a massive, wooden table in the lavish Palace of Sheik Abdul Aham-Ahalla. The Sheik was kind enough to loan the Palace to the SWF in order to house their superstars for the big RAMADOMINATION Pay-per-view. However, since none of the four SWF stars in the room had been booked for matches, Peters had to occupy them in another capacity…as special guests for the Festivus ceremonies. “In a moment, we’ll be setting up the Pole…” Peter’s stated enthusiastically. A thin, dark skinned man of obvious Saudi descent entered the room from the side door. The man, clad in a white tunic and black dress pants with shiny black, patent leather shoes, hurried over to the table with a pen and notepad in hand. The man flashed a wide smile at the group, and then spoke with a noticeable Arabic accent. “Good evening…my name is Omar…I am your Captain tonight.” Manson shook his head in disgust as he glared at the frail looking kitchen helper. “May I get you something to drink?” Almost instantly, Stryke called out from across the table. “I’ll have a Fosters!” Omar smiled politely as he scribbled something down in his note pad. “I am sorry sir…I don’t believe we carry that particular brand. We do have the Heineken brand if that would be acceptable…or perhaps Coors or Budweiser…” Stryke sneered as he contemplated his options. He pondered the decision carefully, visually sampling each beverage in his mind, and then blurted out his choice. “I’ll have the Bud…I don’t want those other Kraut beers…” Almost instantly, Jason Von Dierch fired a menacing glare at the Australian native. “…and for you, Sir?” Omar asked. Von Dierch considered the question for a moment, and then shrugged his shoulders dismissively. “I’ll have a real mans beer…give me a Heineken…” Omar smiled as he jotted it down on the paper. “I wouldn’t wash my feet on that Kangaroo piss Fosters beer!” Omar quickly approached the Asian beauty Candace. “…and for you, my lady?” Candace smiled politely at her host. “I would like cup of tea…” Manson snorted in disdain as he glared at his recent nemesis. Omar…appearing ill at ease…slowly approached the surly Manson. “…and for you Mr. Manson?” Manson slowly lifted his dark, black eyes and glared at Omar. “Jack Daniels…bring me a whole fuckin’ bottle” Omar quickly jotted it down on paper, and then scurried out of the room. “Fuck you Von Dierch!” Stryke offered from across the table. “Go fly a Boomerang”, Von Dierch replied as he rested his black, leather booths on the thick, Mahogany table. As Von Dierch leaned back, he noticed Joseph Peters walking into the room with a tall, thin aluminum pole. The host, smiling enthusiastically as he gently rested the pole on the floor, quickly turned his attention to his guests. “Ladies and gentlemen…it’s time to erect the pole!” The less-than-thrilled Superstars looked at Peters apathetically. “Erect the pole?” Stryke chuckled under his breath. “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me…” “That’s the saddest damn Christmas tree I have ever seen” Von Dierch spat as he glared at the long, thin aluminum rod. “I mean don’t you guys have tree’s down here?” Peters rolled his eyes in annoyance as he turned his attention to Von Dierch. “Christmas is very much a commercialized Holiday. We’re not going to bother with all these ornaments, garland, and stuff. We’re just going with a classic, simple pole theme. Less distracting…more efficient.” Manson took a long drink from his Whiskey. “Cheaper” he blurted under his breath. Joseph Peters shook off the response, and then smiled warmly at his guests. “Can I have someone help me erect the pole?” Manson, Stryke and Von Dierch quickly turned away as Peter’s spirits quickly dimmed. Candace placed her tea on the table and hurried over to her downtrodden host. “I glad to help you…” Peters smiled as Candace took hold of the long, aluminum pole. The two slowly placed it in the corner of the room. The Pole, shining brightly as it reflected the glow of the fireplace, stood tall and straight. “I guess she helped him with his erection”, Von Dierch blurted snidely. Candace glared at Von Dierch, and then slowly headed back to her spot at the table. “Dinner will be served in a little while…You can just relax here while we prepare the food…” Jason again flashed a smile, then walked out of the room and headed off into the kitchen to talk to the cooks. Manson once again took a long, deep swig from the Jack Daniels bottle. “This sucks…” he muttered under his breath. (Dinner segment) “Dinner is ready…” The four guests slowly looked up from the table as a troupe of servants bought out numerous trays of foot. A heavy-set man with a long, shaggy beard placed a massive chrome tray laden with cold cuts and boiled eggs in the center of the table. Another servant rested a huge bowl of Minestrone soup near the cold-cut tray. As the guests looked on in stunned silence tray after tray of questionable food choices soon filled the massive table. “Sardines?” Stryke blurted as one of the men rested a tray of the tomato soaked fish in his general vicinity. “What the hell kind of a Christmas dinner is this?” asked Von Dierch as he glared at an elegant place holding Spam. Jason Peters smiled politely as the kitchen help slowly filtered out of the room. The four superstars look somberly at the table, which was now holding a very unusual assortment of food choices. “Dig in guys…” Peters offered to little reaction. “While the food is still hot!” Von Dierch, Stryke and Manson looked in disdain at the food options. Candace quickly reached over and picked up a plate. She smiled appreciatively at Peters, and then started towards the sardines. “Now I realize you guys have some differences…” Jason Peters started in a shrill voice. “So in the spirit of Christmas…perhaps you should talk them out?” The room fell silent as all eyes turned to their host. Peter smiled calmly at his guests, and then quickly headed out of the room. “What the fuck?” Manson blurted as he grabbed a plate and began to fill it with Cold cuts. “Don’t take them all…they’re the only think that looked edible…” Stryke stated as he looked over the food. Candace quickly headed to a large bowl of steaming white rice. She loaded her plate with the rice as Von Dierch glared at her in contempt. As Candace proceeded to cherry-pick the most appealing items, Manson and Stryke slowly got off their chairs and went to the table. Von Dierch remained in his chair the longest, but finally springs off as Candace starts towards the last of the cold cuts. “Air our grievances? Is that what he said?” Von Dierch barks as he snags the last cold cut from the Joshi Dragon. “Well I have a few problems with almost everyone here…especially you Stryke...” The Tall Aussie shrugs off the remarks as he looks over a large platter of potato salad. “I don’t trust many people…but sure as hell not a back stabbing son-of –a-bitch like you!” Stryke barely acknowledges the angry German as he loads a large scoop of the unique salad in his plate. “I don’t care if you trust me or not…Why would you trust me? Why should I trust you? I don’t give a shit…” Von Dierch snarls as he continues to fill his plate with various items of food. A hint of a smile creases his lips as he spots a chicken leg on the table. The smile quickly fades as he discovers it’s been fried in Peanut butter. “I just like to know that my fellow SWF stars aren’t only in it for themselves. Say if I ever got stuck in a tag team with you how the hell am I going to trust you to have my back?” Stryke smiled in amusement as he bought his plate over to his table. “As if I’d ever tag team with a head case like you…” Candace smiled politely as she looked up from the table. “I have no grievances…I just happy to be here…” Manson grimaced as he glared at the Asian beauty. “You should be just happy to be alive…I still remember that stunt you did before you left the SWF months ago…” Candace dropped her eyes to her plate as Manson approached the diminutive Asian star. “You know people have been killed for less than that!” Von Dierch and Stryke momentarily abandon their hostilities as they glance over to Manson. “What he did do?” Von Dierch asked. Manson again grimaced as he took a handful of spam and stuck it into his mouth. “None of your fuckin’ business you Kraut bastard!” Von Deirch glared at the SWF behemoth. “Does Hillbilly Jim know you have his beard?” Manson stopped dead in his tracked as he locked eyes on Von Dierch. “You piece of shit…” As the two SWF stars started towards each other Stryke quickly separated them. The tall Aussie flashed a relaxed smile as he tried to restore order. “Guys…its Christmas…” A momentary silence filled the air, as Von Dierch looked at Manson, then Manson looked at Von Dierch, then they both turned their attention to Stryke. “Shut the fuck up!” Joseph Peter’s hurried into the room as he noticed the voices escalating. The host smiled warmly as he interrupted the heated conversation. “Guys…save this for later…after dinner we will have our annual Feats of Strength show…” The four stars grew quiet as they locked their eyes on Peters. “It’s all part of the show…and will be broadcast live at RAMADOMINATION!” Peter’s again smiled, and then walked out of the room. As he walked away Manson, Von Dierch, Candace and Stryke gazed at each other in nervous anticipation. {Feats of Strength} “Ladies and gentlemen we are going to a remote location for the next segment,” Pete offered as SWF RAMADOMINATION returned from the break. “We will be televising live from the home of Sheik Abdul Aham -Ahalla in Saudi for a special “Feats of strength” segment…” The King smiled as he quickly turned to the microphone. “Evidently four SWF stars…Stryke…Manson…Candace and Jason Von Dierch are competing in a contest at the Sheiks palace. I’ say more but I really don’t know a whole lot about what is going on there…” “Well evidently Joseph Peters is about to make a statement…we’ll be heading to the broadcast live now…we will of course be providing the commentary for the events…” King smiled as the image cut to the Sheiks Palace. “Nice digs…” Joseph Peters stood in the center of a large gymnasium. In the background Manson, Candace, Stryke and Von Dierch stood quietly as Peters turned to face the camera. “Ladies and gentlemen…we are going to have a Feats of strength contest between the following SWF Superstars…Introducing first…MANSON!!!!” Manson raises his hands into the air as he glares menacingly at the camera. “Also the Australian Speedster,,,STRYKE!!!” Stryke nods in acknowledgement as he waits in silence in the background. “The Joshi Dragon…CANDACE!!!” Candace smiles politely as she waves towards the camera. In the background, Manson spits in disgust as he tapes his wrist. “…and finally…From Germany…JASON VON DEIRCH!!!!” Von Deirch pumps his fist in the air as he awaits the start of the contests. “No idea what Candace is going to do here…?” The King states in background commentary. She’s a girl…how can she compete with Manson, Stryke and Von Deirch?” “It will be a challenge” Peters smiles as he turns his attention to a bench in the center of the ring. The heavy, steel bench holds an Olympic size bar…bowed visibly in the center as it holds numerous, large 45-pound plates on either side of the bar. “Manson will now attempt to bench press 460 pounds…” Manson slowly approaches the bench. The behemoth, his face a mask of concentration, slowly crawls under the bar and locks his hands on the grips. Manson inhales deeply, and then quickly snatches the bar from the rests. He lowers the bar to his chest…then very slowly raises it back up…” “My God he did it!” exclaims Pete in the background. Manson once again brings the bar down to his chest, and then shoots it up again. He holds it in air for a moment, and then slams it back onto the heavy steel rests. A loud thud resonates through the gymnasium as the bar crashes down onto the bench rests. KLANK!!! “Very impressive…” King responds. Manson slowly gets off the bench, and then walks back to his fellow stars. He stops as he pasts Candace, glaring down at the Asian beauty. “You wanna try that?” “Our next contestant…STRYKE!!!” Stryke emerges from the back. The Aussie star smiles confidently as he approaches a squat rack. “Styke will attempt to squat press 570 pound!” Peter exclaims as Stryke slips his shoulders under the bar. The gymnasium falls silent as Stryke hoists the bar off the rack and slowly bends his knees. Stryke slowly assumes a squatting position…suspending the bar in air for a moment, then forces his way back to a vertical base. Stryke leans back and places the tremendous weight back on the rack. Once again, a tremendous thud resonates through the gym as steel bar meets steel rack. CRASH!!! “Holy Cow…very impressive!” Pete states in awe. “Yeah, didn’t know he was that strong” King responds. Stryke heads to the back, flashing a cocky smirk at Manson. “Thanks for warming up the crowd for me…boy!” Manson glares at the confident Aussie as he moves to the back. “Introducing next…CANDACE!!!” The Asian beauty smiles as she heads towards a dark, blue mat. An overweight man in a white Karate suit holds a thick board several feet in front of the Japanese star. “Candace is going to demonstrate the art of Karate for us…” Josephs continues. Candace smiles politely towards the man, then bows in a show of respect. She slowly returns to a vertical base… steps back… then snaps a wicked kick towards the board. CRACK!!!!! The board instantly splits in half as Candace breaks it with a single kick. “Yowza!” Pete blurts. “Imagine if that was your head!” “I was imagining something much better…” King jabs. “That it was yours!” Candace smiles politely as she bows towards the Peters, then returns to the back. “The final contestant…JASON VON DEIRCH!” Von Deirch, looking far from impressed, walks out into the center of the gym. “Mr. Von Deirch is going to attempt to use the Persian Clubs…” Two men walk towards Von Deirch; each carrying one of the heavy stone clubs. “Talk about playing up to the locals…did he steal those from the Iron Sheik?” King spits as Von Deirch slowly begins to twirl the clubs. “Those things look damn heavy…” The confident look of Von Deirches face quickly fades as he raises the clubs over his head. The short German quickly looses his balance, and begins to staggers back and forth. The awkwardly swinging clubs quickly hit the ground as Von Deirch stumbles backwards to the floor of the gym. “Holy humiliation…” Pete yells as Von Deirch is instantly the target of riotous laughter from Manson and Stryke. “Not exactly great form” The King slips in. Von Deirch springs to his feet and quickly approaches Peters to request another attempt. The host shakes his head negatively as he turns his attention to the other stars. Unsatisfied with the response Von Deirch spins Peters around and hits him with a short arm clothesline. Peters falls hard to the ground as Von Deirch starts to stomp away of his host. “Looks like we could be experiencing some technical difficulties…” Pete understates. Stryke darts from the back and takes down Von Deirch with a well-aimed spear. Manson quickly joins the fray, leaping onto both Von Deirch and Stryke as Candace watches quietly from the back. “I’m thinking this was a bad idea…” The King offers as Von Deirch, Manson and Stryke pound away on each other. Candace quickly approaches the fallen Joseph Peters, and then measures him as he slowly starts to get to his feet. As Peters slowly rises, the Asian beauty fires a blaring Buzz saw kick to Peters skull. The hosts head snaps back as he collapses to the floor. Candace quickly makes the cover…slapping down on the floor herself for the count. ONE! TWO! THREE! “Well…there’s a pin” King quips. “It is a wrestling show” Pete offers. “What better way to end this nonsense?” Candace smiles victoriously as Manson, Stryke and Von Deirch continue to pound away on each other. SWF RAMADOMINATION goes to commercial break.