Promo: A Friendly Alliance...

[Guest Insanityman]

Footsteps echo through the serene, empty hallways of the First Union Center. Most wrestling have yet to arrive, yet the paranoid newbies have all ready settled down and ready to camp out for the time being. The footsteps happen to be from the fresh newbie, Tim Dillon. His hair is a bit messy, the same shamrock patched cargoes, same black skate shoes, but his time a Dropkick Murphy’s shirt. He has a stride of confidence as he turns into the corridor. His eyes dart between the cheap, gold plates hanging on the doors and he finds his target. He takes a large gulp of his own saliva and knocks on the door. Inside a Mr. Sharpe, staring at his new t-shirt prototype design looks up in confusion.

 

“Who the hell could that be?” He asked himself and he walks over, walking around the other black leather stuffed lazy-boy chair. He grabs the doorknob and twists it opens and takes a step back in fear to see one of his three opponents, Tim Dillon. Tim puts his hand in the air and makes the Spock sign with his hand and replies, “I come in peace.”

 

“Yeah, of course.” Leon says with a chuckle. He grabs his shirt slung on the black lazy boy chair and he shows it to Tim for a second. “Seat.” He suggests.

 

“Okay, I’ll save us the time and cut all the blarney.” His accent heavy makes Leon strain to understand. Dillon continues, “I think we ought to become partners in crime for this match.” The Irishman states in a pleading voice.

 

Leon’s eyebrows rise in interest and Tim walks over and plops into the chair. “Why?” Sharpe asks.

 

“It’s simple, we have two nasty opponents to face, and I’d rather have one of us win. Preferably the old sod, myself.” He says with a grin. He then fumbles to reach something in his cargo pocket and he pulls out a silver flask. “Drink?” He offers.

 

“Shirt?” Leon counters as he holds it up; Dillon shakes his head no with a laugh. “What is it?” Leon asks eyeing the flask.

 

“Bushmills, straight up.” Dillon replies and he slowly turns it in his hand showing an engraved Ireland flag and below it his family’s awkward crest.

 

“Sounds decent.” Leon answers, wondering why Tim diverted the topic. Stalling. He concluded as he caught the flask. He screwed off the top (which doesn’t get lost by a gold chain) and he took a sip, wiping it off with his t-shirt.

 

“About this alliance, maybe just this match… maybe just a friendship, you know? It’s always nice to have a friend, and bloody annoying to have an ‘evil’ laddie like Jack the Ripper after you in a match.” Dillon adds in.

 

Leon fumbles on his words, “I don’t know… it could be…”

 

“A friendship? A quick alliance, oh come on! You know you want to win the match.” Dillon adds in and that sets Sharpe off.

 

“I’ll easily eliminate you if or when I have to… to win.” Sharpe says seriously and chucks the flask back over.

 

“Ditto.” Dillon soon mutters some Gaelic and he catches the flying flask as he stuffs it in his pocket. Tim then stands and walks over to the still standing Sharpe and extends his hand.

 

“Good luck.” Leon says and he accepts the hand as they shake.

 

(Somewhere in Afghanistan, Insane Luchador, nearly having grown a beard, sits in a cave. Under shelter he crawls with only dull light. His eyes finally adjust and he catches the sight of a head-sized rock. His mind playing tricks on itself suddenly notices two scratches –how Bin Laden keeps track of what caves- of a circle. His eyes soon see a full face and IL cocks his head to the side. His hands reach out and feel the moist rock and the moss on top of it, concluding that the “head” is alive and well. “You after the treasure too?” Silence, “Fine! Be competitive!” More silence. “Okay, I’m sorry… my name’s Andrew! What’s yours?” He asks excited to have a “friend.” “Rex? I knew a guy by Rex, I killed him!” He said in glee as he helps his “friend” up and he stumbles out of the cave into the hot blazing sun. He begins to stumble towards nowhere, as he glances at his map. Soon a response can be heard as he’s a dot in the distance, “No I won’t kill you!”).

[Guest Goodear]

OMG he slipped him an ICKYMAY!

[Guest chirs3]

Quite possibly one of the best subtitles ever...

 

"When Scotch and T-Shirts Collide"... hee hee...

 

And the adventures in Afghanistan continue! A fine fine promo indeed.

[Guest Powerplay]

I'm waiting for the U.S. Special Forces find him talking to rocks and stuff.

[Guest Renegade]

Two stories in one = (Y)!

 

IL talking to a rock = (Y) (Y)!

 

The alliance= (Y) (Y) (Y)!

 

Thats like...six (Y)!

 

work

[Guest Goodear]

I'm waiting for the U.S. Special Forces find him talking to rocks and stuff.

I'm waiting for WCW Special Forces to find him, myself. The world demands more Firebreaker Chip and Todd Champion.