PROMO: Wrath and Storm

[Guest Longdogger_Pete]

Chris Wilson didn't see it coming.

 

One moment he was alone, relaxing in the comfortable Las Vegas hotel room he had rented for his time preparing for his upcoming SWF Smarkdown match, scheduled as a singles match against new Midnight Carnival leader Z.

 

The next moment, he was on the floor.

 

Incredibly, Wilson hadn't even heard his assailant enter. The choke hold had been planted around his neck with enough force to knock Wilson to the floor. He struggles against the iron grip of the arms secured tightly around his neck, but to no avail.

 

"I wish I didn't have to do this," says Longdogger Pete, "but you've left me no choice. And now you're going to listen to me. You destroyed Ash Ketchum and I've let it pass. You tried to put Erek Taylor and I against each other and I've let it pass. But not this time. You've turned Annie Eclectic against us, Wilson, and now I'm taking it personally."

 

Wilson utters a small gurgling sound, but finds himself unable to move or speak.

 

"Now here's what I want," Pete continues. "Next week on Storm, you're going to defend your Intercontinental Television title. Against me. I don't care what kind of match it is, that isn't the point. The point is that we will have this out in a match, once and for all... we... will... end... this. Now, are we in agreement?"

 

Wilson says nothing, instead continuing to struggle out of the choke hold.

 

With surprising forcefulness, Pete intensifies his grip on Wilson, who emits more gurgling noises as his oxygen supply is cut off. "I said, are we in agreement?"

 

"Yes!" Wilson finally manages to escape one word, in a raspy, choked voice. "Yes."

 

Pete releases the hold, and steps away as Wilson gasps for breath. "Good."

 

Pete makes his way toward the door to the hotel room, but Wilson isn't as hasty to end the encounter. "Wait," he rasps. "You want that match... you want the title on the line... then you let me choose the stipulation."

 

Pete merely nods, motioning with his hand for Wilson to continue.

 

"This Storm... it'll be you and I... at home... in your own match... a Miami Mayhem match."

 

A smile plays across Pete's face. "You may have just signed your own death sentence. But you've got it." With that, Pete steps out the door and allows it to close shut behind him.

 

For a long moment, Wilson, still lying on the floor, merely stares at the door, catching his breath. Then, as he starts to sit up, recovered from the attack, he begins to chuckle. Then that chuckle becomes louder and more pronounced, finally erupting into peals of truly evil laughter.

[Guest chirs3]

Miami Mayhem! Miami Mayhem! Miami Mayhem!

 

YesyesyesyesYES!

[Guest 5_moves_of_doom]

I was JUST talking to Pete about how this is my new favorite stip...and whoever wins, this will absolutely RULEx2.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

PROMO (Stubby P. McWeed);

"See...now that's how to get what you want.

 

Just blast in somewhere and throttle someone until you get what you get your way.

 

Mothernature says..."