Promo: Sleepless Nights

[Guest kelloggs]

3:52 AM…

 

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOSH~

 

**Blink blink**

 

Remembrance of a time long ago…

 

As King says this TNT drives Francis on his back and neck into the mat with a modified Tiger Driver 92’ from just below the top of the ladder! The crowd goes silent as Francis hits the mat hard with no chance of getting up! TNT goes up the ladder and he almost reaches the Gold but “The New Sound” Flunkmaster Flexxx and Poisyn run down to ringside!

 

Kinkel: Feel this moment Axis! Feel it for the rest of you Aussie lovin’ life!

 

MacPhisto: What the hell’s going on?

 

Flexxx pushes over the ladder causing TNT to fall to the mat after falling neck first on the top rope, while Poisyn sets up the other ladder. Poisyn drags Francis to his feet and gives him a push up the ladder, going back to help Flexxx beat on TNT. Francis climbs up the ladder slowly but surely and finally grabs the Title and his Gold medal falling to the mat from off the ladder victorious.

 

Funyon: The winner of this match and your NEW Television Champion…”The Franchise” Maaaaaaaaak Fraaaaaaaanciiiiis!

 

Kinkel: It all came together. We said I wouldn’t cheat for him but we never said anything about anybody else!

 

King: I see it now. When they came out earlier-

 

Axis: Francis’s who they were talking about joining “The New Sound”. What a shock…I new the kid was dirty ever since the beginning! Everything he said about doing it for the fans was a lie!

 

King: Finally Mak’s proved me right. I said he had talent and now he’s the TV champ and newest New Sounder.

 

MacPhisto: Cut this off and go to a commercial!

 

 

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOSH~

 

** Blink blink **

 

When a group of three men came together…

 

As the squeaky opening notes of RATM’s ‘Ashes in the Fall’ wake the crowd! As the beat picks up, the arena darkens, and the SmarkTron blinks ‘S… W… O!’ The beat reaches crescendo and with **BOOM!** of pyro on the stage, the lights flicker back on! Treading through the smoky stage come the sWo, led by Chris Wilson, in his trademark Ruby Juliet Oakleys and black trenchcoat. Following behind him, Flexxx and Poisyn gab at the more rowdy members of the crowd, while Mak Francis follows from the rear, TV Title gleaming over his shoulder. Most notably, ALL of the men are clad in a sWo T-shirt. The arena is awash with heat for the men, who seem to be amused by it all. Finally, all four step into the ring, Chris Wilson taking a mic handed to his by a ringside attendant.

 

** Blink blink **

 

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOSH~

 

And why it all began for him…

 

“It wasn’t just you, Edwin… It was also *these people!*” Poisyn gestures to the fans, much like Flexxx. “You know what? We were a new revolution. We came into this ring, gave our blood, sweat, tears, energy, and everything else to you fans, and what do you give back? Nothing! From city to city, you fans are all the same. Greedy, angry, always wanting more. Well, I've only got one thing to say: FUCK YOU!!!” The crowd rains boos onto the group of men, the ‘Asshole!’ chants becoming overwhelming! Poisyn gazes about them, wallowing in the hate, before handing the mic back to Flexxx.

 

“And that, Edwin…” Flexxx starts, somewhat calmed down. “Is why were are here now. Poisyn and I, we know what it feels like to be ignored. To be left behind by everyone else, just because no-one wants. To be showered by false affection, pretend sympathy, and empty promises.”

 

“And Mak?” inquires Edwin. “He’s already successful! Why, he just beat the longest running TV champ of all-time! He doesn’t quite fit in with your clique.”

 

“Mak? You know what, Edwin? Mak is here because he *cares.* Of all the people… of all the other *assholes* in that locker room, Mak is the only one who *cared!* He’d talk to us after shows, he’s buy us a round at the bar, he’s the only one who ever even *bothered!*” Flexxx yells! “And now that we’re together, we’re unstoppable! We are going to *tear* through this league, and now that Wilson has offered to be our guiding light, nothing can stop us this time! Not you… not the fans… not anybody. *Especially* not the piss ant little group of toddlers in X… F… 9!!”

 

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOSH~

 

** Blink blink **

 

A sleepless night…

 

As the fan rotates, repeating its given process the young man in the hotel room lays back against his mattress, a shoebox in hand, trying to find his peace… but he can’t as this match… these matches mean so much to the his future. He dumps the contents of his box onto the bed and sifts through it finding a pair of black sunglasses.

 

“I guess I won’t need these anymore.” Says Francis tossing the shades into the trash and adjusting his ice blue shades across the bridge of his face. “I always liked this color better anyways.”

 

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOSH~

 

** Blink blink **

 

Through the good times…

 

Francis lines up a shot to the head of the now out on his feet Thor, while the ref tells him he’ll be disqualified. Francis rushes in but drops the belt as Thor has him in a one handed choke. Kinkel rushes to the mat and grabs Kivell by the shirt doing anything to distract him while Poisyn slides through the ropes.

 

King: Cheating at its finest. Executed to near Suicide King perfection.

 

Francis gets lifted into the air but a combination of things cause Thor to drop him. The searing pain in his arm and a kick right square in the nuts, that causes him to double over.

 

Axis: And Thor takes another cheap shot from this new revolution member Mak Francis. You can tell already that Poisyn’s wearing off on him.

 

Francis waves over Poisyn and the two men each hook on front face locks. The two men each cradle a leg and lift the 350 pounder up above them and drop to the canvas crushing what once was Thor cranium.

 

MacPhisto: DOUBAFISHAMANBUSTA!

 

Axis: Puro mark! How can you cheer at a time like this?

 

MacPhisto: Sorry I got caught up in the moment.

 

King: Do you hear that sound? It’s claxon of the waahmbulance. Thor just got his ticket punched one way for concussion junction courtesy of the Mak Francis and Poisyn. The sWo is rising from the ashes like a Phoenix and nothing will hold them down!

 

“He was my mentor. The man that I looked up to and had my back numerous times.” Francis remains on the bed, watching the plastic past in the rhythmic motion and thinking aloud. “A friend now a foe in one of the most dangerous matches ever created. Hell in a Cell…”

 

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOSH~

 

** Blink blink **

 

The bad…

 

“A part of me wants to spare him from the pain he’ll receive at my hands.” Francis picks up a picture of him and Matt shaking hands after losing his first World title match to CIA and the subsequent beat down of Edwin and all people not sWo. “But I can’t hold back. It’s the most brutal match every made and I’ll have a four way with CIA next show. I just wish I could get to sleep. Is it that hard to believe that it would come to this? That it would be Matt and me against each other. We did it once before and the mentor upset the student. And this time will be no different!”

 

Poisyn doesn’t waste any time and picks Francis up t his feet. The Franchise looks out of it as Poisyn whips him into the ropes but the Franchise reverses. Poisyn comes bounding off the ropes as Francis attempts a leapfrog but he has hardly any energy left and Poisyn catches him in mid air…

 

King: “A Suicide King like power bomb here will end this match…”

 

But Francis rotates around Poisyn’s shoulders and rolls forward grabbing his legs and ended up sit on Poisyn’s chest.

 

MacPhisto: “A Victory Roll!”

O

N

E!

 

“ONE!” He counts remembering the situation.

 

T

W

O!

 

 

 

“TWO!” Adds Francis recalling the struggle.

 

T

H

R

E

E!

 

Axis: “NO! I MEAN YES THE FRANCHISE FINALLY PULLS THIS ONE OUT!”

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Funyon: “And the winner of this match the Franchise Mak Francis.”

 

“THREE!” Says Francis finishing the memory, as it seems like only yesterday.

 

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOSH~

 

** Blink blink **

 

And the ugly…

 

Mak Francis holds up his arms in glory, as he lets out a giant “WOOO!” into the air. He turns around to thank his partner and…

 

WHACK!

 

MAK FRANCIS GOES STRIAGHT DOWN WITH A CHAIR SHOT FROM MATT MYERS!

 

“WHAT THE…WHAT THE HELL?!” The Suicide King screams, “WHAT…I DON’T…HUH?!”

 

Matt Myers stands there, smiling, as he drops the chair, and demands a microphone from Funyon. Funyon hands Matt the microphone, as he looks down at the bleeding body of Mak Francis. Mak rolls around on the ground, as Matt Myers is handed a microphone and drops down to his knees. The crowd is going crazy.

 

“So, Mak, how does it feel. HOW DOES IT FEEL DO BE THE CURSE FORCED UPON THE SWO?!” Matt Myers screams, “I’ll tell you how it feels. It feels painful. It feels like pure agony. It feels like PURE SHIT! But no. No, no, no, no, no. Don’t worry. All this pain…all this anger…it’ll all come to an end. And it’ll all come to an end sooner than you think…

 

 

 

 

 

…Inside a Hell In The Cell.”

 

“Hell In The Cell… all I can do is wait.” Francis’s gaze never wavers from the fan blades. “And destroy the man who created the sWo.”

 

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOSH~

 

** Blink blink **

 

One last time…

 

“That’s right Mak. I’m going to hell. And I’m taking you with me.”

 

“He says he wants to take me to Hell… well I’ll do him one better.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“And who the FUCK is he to tell me otherwise.”

 

As the fan blade continues to make it's repeative "FWOOOOOOOOOOOOSH~" Mak Francis eyes blink again but the clock moves on to 4:01 and he just sighs. Cause it's going to be a LONG night.

[Guest realitycheck]

Damn, yo. Mak just put more heat on this match than <insert odd, foul tasting condement here> on my last sandwich!

 

...yeah, I'm that uncreative right now. Heh. Anyway... awesome, awesome, promo. *See, now y'all know why I retired for real.

 

-Z

*Statement not to be taken to heart or in the context as the real reason for my retirement, and should also be considered reversable if talking about CIA.