Promo: A Night On the Town

[Guest TheBostonStrangler]

5:47 PM

 

 

The streets of Seattle, Washington are jam-packed with cars, as people pour out of the skyscrapers and head for their cars. A light rain falls, sending some scurrying, while the old-timers ignore the rain, used to it by now. People rush for the subway stops, crowding into the entrance, as a single man, who towers above the crowd, pushes his way through. The man, clad in a full-body tan trench coat, pulls the baseball cap down low over his eyes, and heads out of the subway stop, staring at his feet. As the mob in front of him parts, obviously somewhat intimidated by the giant in their midst, the man continues shuffling along, occasionally glancing up at the storefronts before lowering his gaze back to the sidewalk.

 

As the rain tapers off, and a cool breeze replaces it, the man looks up, and notices a bar a couple of stores away. The man walks over to the bar, with a massive nameplate reading “O’Sullivan’s Pub” hanging over the open door. The man looks in, and looks at the people at the bar, looking into their beers, a look of outright misery on their faces. The man looks at the bartender, who returns the glance with an invitation. “Hey bud, c’mon in”. The man looks around, then turns back to the street, still teeming with life, conversation, and the laughter of people looking forward to their night on the town. The man turns back into the bar, and pulls up a stool.

 

The bartender walks over, a look of boredom on his face. “Hey, what’ll it be?” rattles off the bartender, obviously dreaming of a situation far more favorable than this. The man looks up, removing his sunglasses to adjust to the dingy atmosphere of the bar.

 

“Make it a double scotch, on the rocks. It’s been a long day…and my legs are fucking killing me.”

 

The bartender heads for the rows upon rows of bottles in the back before glancing back at the man, the first hint of true emotion that’s run across his face since the man entered the bar. “Say…do you work around here or something? I swear I know you from some…”

 

“No. I’m from out of town. I come from back east.”

 

“Where back east?”

 

“Boston area. Been traveling around a lot lately, though.”

 

The bartender nods, and returns to the process of pouring the drink. As he brings it over to the stranger, the look, now intensified, returns to his face. “Hey, are you SURE you ain’t from around here? Or are you some kind of celebrity or something? Cuz I swear I’ve met you before or something…and I got a good memory for faces.”

 

The stranger sighs, and begins to stand before a man from the far end of the bar buts in. “Hey, I know him! He’s that Strangler guy from the wrestling league!”

 

The bartender breaks into a huge smile. “I knew it! I can’t believe I didn’t get it sooner…I mean, how many 6’9” guys from Boston are walking around Seattle the week of Ground Zero?”

 

“3 that I’ve run into” grunts Strangler, drawing a chuckle from the guys at the bar.

 

“Hey, it’s real good to have you here, Mr. Strangler….do you have anything you prefer to be called?”

 

“Strangler is fine. I’ve left my old life behind. I’d prefer to leave things that way.”

 

The bartender nods knowingly. “Yeah, we all got a few skeletons in our closets. Hey, my name’s Lou. I own this joint, 15 years now. And these are my regulars. Over there you got your buddy that identified ya, George. And these two clowns over here are brothers, Danny and Frank. And the guy who’s closest to you is Brian. HUGE SWF fan…I’m surprised he didn’t say something when you came in.”

 

Brian speaks up for the first time. “Lou, I recognized the guy. Not that hard, really. But I figured that he might wanna have some privacy…you know, just come to a bar and chill out. Have fun like we do.”

 

Strangler looks at the folks in the bar. “THIS is your idea of having fun? Damn, the boys were right about Seattle….you guys really are depressed out of your fucking minds.”

 

The bartender grins before grabbing Strangler’s now-empty shot glass. “We ain’t so bad. It’s all about hanging with the boys. You want another?”

 

“Yeah….gimme another. I’m in the mood to leave some troubles behind.”

 

“Well bud, you came to the right place….right boys?”

 

The four men seated at the old, worn bar barely bother to look up before heading back to their beers and the Mariners/Royals game on the TV. “Yeah, I’m feeling the love…now gimme that drink” remarks Strangler, who breaks a small grin for the first time that night.

 

 

8:24 PM

 

 

Strangler downs a shot of tequila, adding the empty shot glass to the ever-growing collection accumulating on the edge of the bar. Lou grabs the bottle of tequila and pours another shot before handing it off to Strangler. Strangler glances up at the TV hanging above the bar, now playing the local sports news. The reporter is talking about the Sonics’ preseason workouts. “As for now, the Sonics are hurting due to the loss of their second best player, Rashard Lewis, for the next six weeks with elbow surgery. The Sonics are confident that they can overcome the loss of Lewis, and grow as a team while awaiting his return.” Strangler’s face turns incredibly sour as he turns away, something that’s noticed by Brian, next to him at the bar.

 

“Hey, Strangler, what’s with the sad face? You a Sonics fan or something?”

 

Strangler looks up, a bittersweet grin on his face. He speaks, his voice slightly higher and somewhat slurred. “Nah…just thinking that the Sonics seem to be going through this situation because they have to…not because they want to.”

 

Brian looks incredibly confused. He puts down the Miller in his hand, and twirls on the stool to face Strangler, who downs the shot of tequila, then slides the glass down the bar, muttering something to himself. “Strangler, what you talking about?”

 

Strangler raises his glance back to the TV before settling on his favorite spot, 6 inches in front of him at the bar. “What I mean is that I’m getting screwed here. You’re the one that follows the SWF, right?”

 

“Yeah, Strangler. I’m really enjoying the stuff you guys ar…”

 

“Whatever. Since you like us so much, you know about the big WarGames match at Ground Zero. This is the biggest match in the fucking HISTORY of the SWF! Do you get that?”

 

“Well, yeah! I can’t wait to watch the PPV! Me and a few of my buds are gon…”

 

“Well, that pissant little bitch Erek Taylor has been spilling his guts about how much I suck, how I need a shower, how I’m a fucking stripper. Taylor’s just jealous of me. He knows that I’m better than he is…so he’s gotta run his mouth instead, calling me names to make him feel better about how big a loser he is. And I can’t let that go unanswered, right? I mean, I am a fucking man! I can’t just let some bitch ass snot nosed little punk run his mouth about me. I got my pr..pride to protect, my integrity.”

 

“Yeah…I know what you’re saying. You see, one time down at the meat plant, this coworker decided that he ha…”

 

“ANYWAY, I go after the punk, but he doesn’t let up. So I go to McWeed, and I get a match against him.”

 

“Didn’t he challenge you?”

 

“So I have my match with Taylor. And I got my streetfight, so I’m gonna murder the guy, no sweat. He’s tiny! I might as well fight those fucking midgets over there at the end of the bar!”

 

As Danny and Frank look up, scowls on their faces, Strangler continues on. “And since we got the big Wargames match, I figure Wilson wants me to help out with it. I mean, I’m gonna be the ICTV Champion on Sunday! I was fighting guys like Edwin, Spider, Thoth, and Edwin.”

 

“You said Edwin twice.”

 

“Whatever. Anyways, I’m the best thing Wilson’s got on his roster. I got the experience, I got the record, and I got the size. No one in there woulda had a chance in hell against me! I mean, in a tiny space like that, size is all that matters. I figure Wilson’ll have me as the second man on the squad, since size is all that matters, especially in a tiny space like that.”

 

Brian looks on as Strangler pauses to gulp down another shot of tequila before dropping the almost-empty glass onto the floor beside him. As Lou sighs, and grabs a dustpan, Strangler looks down at the shattered pieces of glass alongside him on the floor. He grabs ahold of the bar to forcibly turn himself around, accidentally spinning 180 degrees, before turning himself back to face Brian. “Yeah…so Wilson talks to me the day before Sm..Smarkdown, and he tells me ‘Strangler, with that match you got with Taylor, it’s gonna be real hard for you to fight in the main event. And since Outcast wants to get in on the action, I think it’d be the best idea for you to focus on your match. We need the ICTV title. And me, Outcast, Frost, TNT, and Danny are perfectly capable of handling the match. So unless something comes up, you’re not gonna be in the match. So win that ICTV title, man. That’d be the best thing you could do for us.’ Can you FUCKING believe him?”

 

Brian leans back, surprised by the extreme change in the volume and tone of Strangler’s voice before leaning forward and chiming in “Well, that match wi…”

 

Strangler cuts him off, as though he never heard the guy begin to speak. “Wilson thinks he’s some incredible genius! Oh, look at me, I can blow up BUILDINGS! I can take out the POKEBITCH! I can do anything I fucking WANT TO, because I’m so fucking SMART! Well, how fucking smart is it to take a guy who hasn’t wrestled a meaningful match in months and three fucking ignorant rookies into a match like that? Look at the fucking people that Ma..MacPhisto has on his side! He’s got Thoth, and ELM, and Raynor, and Z! Z’s the only one that those morons have that hasn’t been in these situations before. I mean, Magnifibitch is a former champ, man! And Thoth is damn good…better than Chilly Silly Bitch Slap and that Japanese wrestling guy. Raynor isn’t any slouch either, man. And people think Wilson is all smart…and he’s going in there with a bunch of rookies and untested vets?”

 

“So what? I mean, Wilson is giving you a chance at winning the ICTV Title! That’s a big honor, Strangler!”

 

Strangler rolls his eyes before downing yet another shot. Lou looks on, a hint of worry in his face as Strangler balances himself with the bar. “He didn’t give me anything! I earned that shot, man! I gave Taylor everything he had coming to him, so I get the title shot! What the FUCK does Chris MOTHERFUCKING Wilson have to do with any of that? NOTHING! I earned it, man! Not them! And then they shut out the guy that earned his shot! I mean, Frost and TNT got a match on the card, and Wilson wants them in there, watching his back! And then good ol’ Strangler, the man that was wrestling in the main event a couple weeks ago, the man who’s gonna be the next ICTV Champion, is left out in the cold! I deserve to be in that ring, and all of you know it! Everyone knows it but Wilson!”

 

Brian, who seems to be getting nervous talking to the obviously intoxicated Strangler, tries to steer things away from the match. “But besides that, you’ve been good for the league and for the M7. I mean, you’ve done so well! You really should be proud of…”

 

“PROUD? I should be proud that a fucking rookie like TNT is…is in the main event instead of me? That guy does nothing but swing a metal bat for me! And now he’s a main event wrestler! I’m telling you, there’s something going on here.”

 

“What do you mean by that?”

 

“Wilson’s just waiting for me to fuck up. He’d have gotten rid of me by now if I didn’t have something they want. That title shot is the only thing keeping me going. I know what they’re planning. When I fuck up, if I lose that title, or if I lose at Ground Zero, I’m done with them. They’re looking for an excuse to kick me out!”

 

Brian is torn between calming the incredibly agitated Strangler and listening to more inside gossip from the league he loves. Strangler pounds his fist onto the bar, continuing on before Brian can raise his objection. “Wilson said that I was special….that the Clan was wrong to kick me out. But he’s doing the same fucking thing! The Clan kept me around because I was hardcore champ! But then I fucked up, so I disappeared! And if anyone can do what the Clan did to me, Wilson can. He’s gonna do me in when I fuck up…so I can’t fuck up. I..I gotta keep winning. I gotta be incredible. I need to fucking get that ICTV Title. Because that title is the only thing keeping me going. If I get kicked out, why the heck should I stick around? To get screwed again? NO! I gotta prove to Wilson that I’m worth keeping around….that Strangler ain’t a waste of his time. And the only way to do that is to destroy Taylor. Taylor’s trying to pry me and Wilson apart…and I ain’t gonna put up with his shit anymore. Lou, more scotch!”

 

Lou turns to Strangler, a firm look on his face. “Big man, I think you’ve had enough tonight. I’d get back to the hotel and sleep this one off. You’re gonna have one hell of a hangover.”

 

Strangler’s face turns a deeper shade of red, bordering on purple, as the rage grows. “I think I fucking know when I’ve had enough to drink! Now gimme that scotch, and do it now, you pathetic loser!”

 

Lou’s face clenches up. “Strangler, it’s been REAL nice to meet an SWF wrestler. But you’ve had enough. Now, I’d suggest you get going. This place could use a little peace and quiet. I think I speak for most of us when I say that we don’t need to hear you whining about how your god Chris Wilson is screwing you over.”

 

Strangler stands up, although slightly shaky. Removing his hand from the bar momentarily before replacing it to stop the shaking in his legs. “Fine! I don’t need to be here! I got places to be! I’m fucking successful! I have money, friends, and places to go! I shouldn’t be hanging out in some shithole bar with a bunch of fucking inbred hicks who work at a meat plant cutting off cow legs all day long!”

 

George, a large, burly man at the end of the bar, stands up. “Strangler, you got three seconds to get out of this place before I show you the entrance, courtesy of a right hook to the jaw.”

 

Strangler staggers back, a look of hurt and rage intermingling on his face. “FINE! But one last thing! Lou…”

 

Strangler trails off before hauling back and smashing his fist into the barkeeper’s jaw. Lou drops to the ground, dropping the two glasses he has in his hand. As the sound of breaking glass echoes throughout the bar, Danny and Frank hop the bar to check on Lou. George races around the end of the bar, looking for a fight, but a woozy Strangler has already wobbled out the door into the buzzing city streets of downtown Seattle. George hops the bar himself, as Brian stares at the door which sways, gently slowing down until nothing is visible, save the small patch of life visible through the small, dirty window. Brian lowers his head, a look of ire on his face. “You know, I knew there was a reason I always liked Erek Taylor…” remarks Brian to himself before hopping off the barstool himself, and helping Lou to his feet.

[Guest Chuck Woolery]

Oh. My. God. I enjoyed that way too much.

 

- Mike Van Siclen.

Alley is 4 life!

[Guest Kibagami]

Very cool promo, Strangler. The bar setting is very different from anything we've seen recently in SWF promos. In fact, the last guy I remember writting a bar promo was Axis, a long, long time ago. A nice bit of character development leading up to your title match at Ground Zero, and a good way of clueing the rest of us in to M7 tensions that we probably wouldn't get an indication of in the ring. Very good work. Promo more often, Superstation!

 

S.

[Guest Beingz0wningj00]

"? I should be proud that a fucking rookie like TNT is…is in the main event instead of me? That guy does nothing but swing a metal bat for me! And now he’s a main event wrestler! I’m telling you, there’s something going on here"

 

 

AMEN!!! That's like Ironman running the chat!

 

 

 

What is it with you and hating your leaders, Stranglawhore? What do you think you are, the inter stable tweener?

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

I mean, Magnifibitch is a former champ, man! And Thoth is damn good…better than Chilly Silly Bitch Slap and that Japanese wrestling guy.

 

Awesome.

 

That whole promo was perfecto. Period. The consistency of character Strangler has now when looking back at his first run in the fed is really damn good. Adds yet ANOTHER dimension to the PPV.

 

Joy of joys, totally sweet.

[Guest ErekT2k]

Very nicely done. And like Silent said, the bar setting was completlely out of the blue.

[Guest Rabbi_wilson13]

That was absolutely perfect. There's so much stuff there I want to quote, so I'll just quote none of it. The part where you rant on my with somes CAPS is good, as was the "Edwin, Thoth, Spider and Edwin."

 

"You said Edwin twice."

 

"Whatever."

 

That whole promo was completely golden, Strangler, and what you don't realize is that I did get you that title shot, as I got Tom his and set up the number one contender matches, simply because I control this whole fed. You just don't realize it.

 

Muhahahahahah! Magnificent Seven is pulling away with the PROMOWARS!

[Guest Insanityman]

Loved that promo man. I could go qouting half of it but I won't. Excellent work and imagine we almost had to use the "reset" button theory.

[Guest Tyler McClelland]

Damn right, you'd better not be talkin' shit 'bout me!

 

 

Great job with this, it's nice to see a promo from you. Keep it up, my friend...

[Guest kelloggs]

Wow Strangler brought it strong to PromoWars. M 7 in the lead by a nose