PROMO: On the Red Carpet

[Guest WrestlingDeacon]

The camera comes on to find Ben Hardy in a black tuxedo with a microphone in hand. He stands on a red carpet between two guardrails that extend out to the edge of the curb. He beams a smile into the camera.

 

“Ben Hardy here. We are mere hours away from one of the biggest SWF events of the year, From the Fire. I’ll be here until the first bell rings, greeting the SWF superstars as they arrive at the Telewest Arena here in jolly old England. Unless my eyes and ears mistake me, our first limo is pulling up now.”

 

Over the announcer’s shoulder one can see a black limousine pulling to a stop. The driver rushes around to the back door facing the building and opens it. Out steps Frost! He’s dressed in tan slacks with a tan jacket over a white dress shirt, no tie. He has the ICTV and Tag belts draped over his shoulders. He observes the red carpet set up with disdain while his driver retrieves his bags from the trunk.

 

“It’s the Velvet Hammer, Frost!” Hardy confides to the viewers at home. “The double champion is notorious for being the first man to the arena, taking hours to properly prepare himself for a match and tonight he has two of them. First he takes on the returning Neilsen of the Jungle for the ICTV strap and then must defend the tag titles with Tom Flesher against Justice and Rule, also members of the Magnificent 7.”

 

Frost lumbers slowly down the carpet while the driver races ahead with Frost’s duffle bag and small suitcase to find his dressing room.

 

“I suppose you want an interview.” Frost grumbles.

 

“We sure would champ if you wouldn’t mind?” Ben grins at the camera and thrusts the mic into Frost’s face.

 

“Actually, I’d rather no…”

 

“Great!” Hardy screams to cut him off. “I was just telling the fans at home that you have a hell of a night cut out for you. Two matches, the first against a returning legend in Neilsen of the Jungle!”

 

Frost runs a hand over his face and strokes his chin while looking at the ground. “Look, this guy is only a legend because you say he is. He isn’t jack shit to me. People toss names around like Hannibal or Napoleon, some great ring generals to be feared, but until you step into the ring with me what people say about you doesn’t prove anything. Neilsen of the Jungle, Stone Froze Jack Houston, might as well be the same guy as far as I’m concerned. If he ban bring it, he can bring it. If Neilsen can’t, than he can hop aboard the job train.” Frost stares intently at the camera and shoots a thumb over his shoulder. “Either way I’m going to set him on fire and kick him down a flight of stairs. Neilsen is nothing to me but another face!” Frost spits on the ground to punch that last word.

 

“Please don’t spit on the carpet.” Hardy begs with a whine. Frost eyes him coldly and Ben tries to keep the interview rolling. “Regardless of how things go with Neilsen you then have to go against Judge Mental and Ejiro Fasaki to defend the tag titles with Tom Flesher at your side. The two of you haven’t been getting along well for some time, but it seems that we’ve reached a quiet in the storm the past few weeks.”

 

Frost thinks for a second, weighing what to say in his mind before he speaks. “Flesher and I have an understanding, keep the titles around our waists and damn the rest. If we don’t do that, then you might see something go down, but I don’t see it being a problem. Mental and Fasaki make a good pair, but they won’t be good enough. Ejiro showed me a lot of guts in our table match on Storm, but guts only get you so far. He fell then and he’ll fall tonight. I take nothing away from them, they’re a credit to the Magnificent 7, but neither one of them is the top gun. I am!” He jabs a thumb into his chest and marches off.

 

Hardy stands alone for a moment and then turns back to the camera. “I wonder what Tom Flesher would say about Frost saying he’s the top gun in the Mag 7? Stay tuned and we just might find out as the prelude to From the Fire continues.”

 

 

 

 

 

So, yeah, if people want to do similar Oscar type “red carpet” promos before tonight, toss them in this thread. Thought it might be a different thing to do, along the lines of the commercial thread.

[Guest Chuck Woolery]

"Well," says Ben Hardy, adjusting his black bow tie, "we just had an interesting conversation with Frost, who tonight will be involved in two matches. We're still hours away from From the Fire III, but we're expecting many more superstars to arrive shortly... and look, here comes one now!"

 

We can see Hardy's line of vision, and it leads directly to a shot of a white limousine, screeching to a halt in front of the Telewest Arena. The driver gets out, running to the back door and opening it. The man inside steps out - and it's Mike Van Siclen, decked out on this night in a navy blue tuxedo with an acid green tie and black dress pants. The six-four wonder eyes the red carpet lovingly, stepping onto it and taking in everything about the moment, wanting to cherish his first taste of the SWF.

 

"Mike! Mike!'

 

Van Siclen's head snaps to where the voice is coming from... and spots Ben Hardy.

 

...it's like I'm fly paper for freaks.

 

"Mike! Mike! Can I get an interview?"

 

"I thought I got away from you when I left the JL, Hardy."

 

"Well, sir, Shinji told me I was working the red carpet tonight, so..."

 

"Whatever, Ben, just go on with the interview."

 

"Okay." Ben puts on a huge faux grin for the camera. "I'm here now alongside "Spectacular" Mike Van Siclen, rookie to the SWF. Mike, how does it feel to have finally made it to the top of the mountain?"

 

"You know, Ben, I wouldn't say I've made it to the top of the mountain. The top of the mountain was one month ago, when I defeated Janus for the SJL Heavyweight title in his hometown. But that mountain was like Kathadin, and tonight I set foot on a new mountain, the SWF, which for continuity's sake I'll refer to as Everest. Ben, some great people have died trying to scale Everest, but I swear on this red carpet I won't be one of them."

 

"Refreshing! Now, Mike, what are your thoughts on your match tonight with Janus? On paper, this looks like a match that would favor the other M7 giant..."

 

"Yes, but on paper the Phoenix Suns were going to win the 1993 NBA championship. On paper, I never should've beaten Janus once, much less twice. I'm in his head, Ben. Janus is afraid of this," Mike pauses, stroking his chin, "Janus is afraid of this face. Janus is afraid of the first ever SJL Grand Slam champion, and Janus, most of all, is afraid of stepping into that ring tonight."

 

Mike walks away from Ben, but then walks back, as though he's forgotten something.

 

"But I'm not."

 

Smiling in a "my-work-here-is-done" fashion, Van Siclen walks away, leaving Hardy to stand and wait for the next member of the SWF to walk down the red carpet...

[Guest Ace309]

A few minutes later…

 

A short blue BMW, complete with canvas roof, pulls up. The chauffeur, a barely-legal Japanese girl that some might recognize from her stint as a belt girl, gets out and steps around the front of the car, then opens the door. Out steps Tom Flesher, dressed to the nines in his grey suit, white shirt and blue tie. He pauses a moment to kiss his belt girl on the cheek and pat her on the ass, then takes his Tag Team Title belt and slings it over his shoulder. As he struts down the carpet, Ben Hardy stops him.

 

“Tom,” he says, “Welcome to England. What do you think about Frost’s comments earlier today, that the only job you have tonight is to keep the titles around your waist?”

 

“Clearly, my good man, the belt isn’t around my waist, it’s over my shoulder.”

 

“Well, I don’t think-”

 

“Did I tell you to talk? Benjamin, it’s true, the only job I’ve given Frost tonight is to protect the SWF World Tag Team Titles. It’s not a hard job, and he’ll be tired after taking on someone as tough as this Not Jay guy. Besides, you know, he’s mostly brawn. You can’t give him too many instructions. He might get confused. Just between you and me? He can barely work a zipper, Benjo. I’m going to have to rebrief him after the Nielsen match just to make sure he remembers the match plan.”

 

“And what’s the plan going to be?”

 

“You think I’m stupid, don’t you, Ben?”

 

“No, I…”

 

“Here, let me handle it. Ask me what I think the result will be tonight.”

 

Hardy coughs. “Uh, what do you think the result will be tonight?”

 

“What a stupid question,” scoffs Flesher. “Of course we’re going to win. Bill and Ejiro are a great young team, sure, but-”

 

“Sorry to interrupt, but they’re hardly young. Both of them have considerable experience in other federations. In fact, Hearford has been competing professionally for longer than you’ve been alive.”

 

“Ben, you’re not making my job any easier. Here. Gimme.” Flesher reaches over and takes the microphone, then nudges Hardy out of the camera angle. “Bill Hearford and Ejiro Fasaki are great wrestlers, that’s for sure. But I have something they don’t. What, you ask? What does Tom Flesher have that Justice and Rule don’t? I have Frost. A mindless robot of destruction. Sure, you might be able to confuse him if you run around him real fast. Sure, he gets distracted by shiny things. But once he gets his hands on you, bam, you’re done for. And Ben, that’s not even figuring in the fact that, as good as Ejiro and Bill are, I’m just that much better. I mean, you don’t honestly expect them to outwrestle me, or outmuscle Frost, do you? Of course not.”

 

He pauses once more to collect his thoughts.

 

“And as for the so-called main event, where they wrestle for the SWF Heavyweight Title, well, I think it was poorly placed. The problem is, fans don’t want to see a Chihuahua being destroyed by a mastiff… or, better yet, by a big, stupid Saint Bernard. They want to see strong wrestling by the SWF’s three top prospects, and Frost, FAR more than they want to see that sideshow.”

 

Hardy leans in. “So who do you think will-”

 

“Ben, it just doesn’t matter. They won’t last more than a month.”

 

Flesher hands the mic back to Hardy and struts down the carpet with a smug grin on his face.

 

“And, ladies and gentlemen, there we have Tom Flesher’s thoughts on the pay-per-view tonight. Who’s next? Why, we’ll just have to see.”

[janusd 0]

Some time afterwards, a bronze Torana - completely done up for this event alone, looking shiny, impressive and new - pulls up. The owner of the car is for once riding in the back seat, having being chauffered to the event for once, and he slowly pushes open the door and steps out onto the carpet, rising to his full height.

 

Janus is respledent in a tailored suit, black pants and black jacket merging quite nicely with the very dark purple shirt he wears, and a red tie finishes the ensemble. His long white hair is pulled back into a ponytail, lending him an almost refined air as he looks around with an almost bemused expression.

 

Here I am.

 

"Janus! Ladies and gentlemen, we've just been graced by the presence of the other recent addition to the SWF roster! Hey, Janus! Can you spare any words for us?"

 

The giant scans the crowd that are behind the barrier, then looks down at Hardy for a long moment, almost ready to walk straight past him, but then deciding that he'd give the little interviewer a bit of his mind.

 

"What is it, Ben?"

 

"I'm sure everyone's wondering how you feel tonight! To be here in the SWF now, at a Pay-Per-View! And to be taking on Mike Van Siclen once more!"

 

The giant rubs his goatee, barely visible in the bright lights due to the fact it was white, his wrestling gloves visible now on his hands, which had been until then stuck in his jacket pockets, before looking down at Hardy again.

 

"I will admit, Hardy. To be here only months after my Junior League debut is surprising. But considering what I have done, who I have been through...I earned my right to be here. A Pay-Per-View is a big event, suitable for someone like me..."

 

The giant stopped rubbing his goatee, bending to plant a hand on Hardy's shoulder. Remembering the last time the giant did this, Ben freezes, going pale, but he holds the microphone up to the giant's lips.

 

"As for Van Siclen...well...we're playing by My rules now, Hardy. I'm going to show Mike why they call me the Hell Machine...but he'll just get confident. Then cocky...then lazy....then Dead."

 

Clapping Ben on the shoulder and making him wince visibly, the giant straightens up to look at the arena in front of him, and then stalks past the interviewer with the slow and deadly grace he was known for, as Ben turns back to the camera.

 

"And that was our other recent bumpee, Janus! Stay tuned to see what other superstars may have on their minds!"

[Guest Beingz0wningj00]

An hour later, a giant pickup truck comes around the corner, pulling up to the red carpet it skids to a halt. The door swings open and out pops Jamie Drazon. He stands in the door with his head and upperbody well over top of it. His trenchcoat hangs off his body and he’s sporting a pair of shades. He stares straight ahead in a pose as Ben Hardy stands outside the truck, riding the red carpet.

 

Hardy: “Jay Dawg, in just a few hours, you will have to fight the amazing Wildchild one on one in a steel cage match. What are your thoughts?”

 

JD hops out of the truck and tosses his keys at the nearby valet. The valet is well aware that if he breaks it, he not only buys it, but is broken too. JD cockily trots toward Hardy, chomping down on a piece of gum.

 

Jay Dawg takes a deep breath, before looking toward Hardy. He smiles as Hardy tries to maintain a straight impression.

 

Jamie: “A cage match versus the Wildchild! Wow… I’m shaking in my boots. I didn’t kick the crap out of him enough last week, that he’s coming back for more. I mean I am going to go out there and suplex the shit out of him! Tell me something Hardy… Do you think Wildchild believes that he can defeat me? I mean honestly?”

 

Hardy: “Umm…I dun..”

 

Jamie: “I’m glad to see you agree with me. You see, Wildchild is just not in my league. He was able to pin my shoulders to the mat once! He did it once! But I made him pay. The way I see it, we are one for one. But tonight… heh heh heh… tonight my little nemesis… tonight is the night you receive some pain. You like many others, will learn one thing, I am not one to be fucked with!”

 

Hardy: “But.”

 

Jamie: “Shut up, Hardy.”

 

Hardy: “Yes, sir.”

 

Jamie: “Good. Now Wildchild is going to get the beating of a lifetime. I mean, I will smack him till his teeth fall out! I will stomp his bones until they are like jelly. I will stretch him until his muscles cave. What do you think?”

 

Hardy: “Well…”

 

Jamie: “Hey didn’t I tell you to shut up!?”

 

JD places his hand over Hardy’s mouth and shoves him away.

 

Jamie: “There, that’s better! Hmmm, now what was I going to say?”

 

JD thinks about it for a moment.

 

Jamie: “Bah fucked if I know… Wildchild is gonna get his ass kicked, done deal, end of story, as sealed as the lips of Annie Eclectic around a banana.”

 

Jamie walks off into the red carpet as Hardy waits for another.

[Guest Muzz]

Hardy: "Sacred! What are you doing here!? Can I have a wor-"

 

Sacred: "Go fuck yourself, Hardy."

 

Hardy: "All right then."