Losing matches

[Guest vitriol]

Yeah, I didn't show. This was what I did have, though. Someone, anyone, PLEASE give me some feedback.

 

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“...welcome back to Wrath! I am Judge Mental, and we’re just moments away from the World Title match, which promises some interesting developments. There is much talk about Duran in the big leagues, which leads me to believe that he may very well lose his title tonight from the added distractions.” He glances over toward Ejiro, who doesn’t really seem to be paying attention. “Your thoughts on the match, Ejiro?”

 

“Uh,” he says “I don’t think it really matters one way or the other. I get paid to be here, not to care.”

 

Judge turns to his other side. “Annie, your thoughts?”

 

“It doesn’t matter what she thinks, Judge. Viktor takes it,” Ejiro utters. “Viktor with an easy win over Duran and the riddler.”

 

“The riddler? Or perhaps...yes. Perhaps the mystery man is Batman, PRETENDING to be the riddler so that he can lure riddler into a trap! Of course, then riddler would sue for likeness rights.” There is silence for a moment, before Annie continues. “Blargle. The comics were good, but the new cartoons have just never been up to par.”

 

“Right....okay. So then, Ejiro thinks it’s the Riddler, Annie thinks it’s Batman, and I don’t follow the JL. Great, we have no idea who it is.”

 

“According to our online polls, Judge, nobody really gives a shit who it is, as long as he beats Tarakanov. Personally, I think it’s the long lost career of Mercury, coming back to life AGAIN to try and accomplish something. Ultimately, he’ll just waste a lot of time and piss some people off. Which, I think makes this watchable.”

 

“Agreed. Time for entrances?” Judge doesn’t bother looking to Ejiro for a response, he isn’t paying attention again. He looks straight over to Annie, who for some reason is staring a hole through the side of Ejiro’s head.

 

“I swear to God...I will kill you.”

 

“What?”

 

“...”

 

"Soviet National Anthem" by the Russian Red Army Choir strikes up as a giant crimson pyro explodes on the entrance ramp.Boos immediately emanate from the crowd as “The Red Rage” Viktor Tarakanov steps out from behind the stage. As the music continues “The Red Rage” walks down the ramp calmly, checking the tightness of his wrist tape. Approaching the ring, he sneers at the crowd before walking up the steel steps and wiping his feet on the ring apron. Stepping into the ring, the fans begin to chant “U.S.A.!! U.S.A.!!" to unsettle him. The expression on his face is priceless as it fades from calm to rattled. It is as if he wants nothing more than to single-handedly strangle each and every one of those fans...

 

“Judge,” Ejiro chimes, “why do they hate him so? He’s not such a bad guy. In fact, you might not know this, but he’s Russian.”

 

A laugh ensues. “I think everyone knows that, Ejiro. He is called ‘The Red Rage’, after all.”

 

Annie, upset at being left out, begins to scream at them. “TALK TO ME! I’M A LESBIAN! ...I hate you.”

 

“We still don’t know who the mystery man is,” Judge maintains. “I’d like to take this time to remind our viewers that this is NOT a SCRIPTED SHOW, and we have NO ADVANCE NOTICE of ANYTHING! So, we’ll be as shocked as you are no matter who it is.”

 

“Screw this, I’m going to leave. Justice and Rule are gay, by the way.”

 

“Well now,” Ejiro jests, “Isn’t THAT ironic. The only gay thing around here is you, darling. Besides...you don’t really want to have to deal with security again, do you? Full body cavity search!”

 

Anger fades to despair, and Annie silently sulks back into her chair.

 

“You certainly have a way with the women, Ejiro.”

 

“Isn’t it great, Judge? We rule!”

 

The lights begin to fade down, and for a moment there is silence. And then, there is green.

 

Judge reacts. “Oh shit!” The crowd begins to lose it...they know who it is. The rumble of the cheers slowly begins to rise up until the opening notes of “Forest” by System of a Down strike, and then they explode. The Smarktron comes to life, the video running through a lush green forest at great speeds, finally stopping about 20 feet in front of a man, wielding a bow and arrow. He pulls the arrow back, releases, and as it reaches the screen, pyrotechnics on the opposite wall explode. The crowd comes back to life as Tristan Whitt, also known as Tryst, comes rushing out of the back to stand within the spotlight, Bow in one hand, arrow in the other.

 

Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen...the following competitor stands at six feet, one inch tall, weighing in at two hundred and eighteen pounds...he hails from Bairnsdale, Britain...Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Tryyyyyyyyssssst!!!

 

Making his way down the ramp, Tryst takes off his quiver of arrows and hands it to the timekeeper, along with his bow as he rolls into the ring and soaks in the cheers from the rhapsodic crowd. The lights fade back up to normal, and he catches the eye of Viktor, who stares in disbelief.

 

“HA! Would you look at the look on the face of Tarakanov?! He’s speechless!” Annie euphorically exclaims. “He is going to LOOOOOOOOOSE!”

 

Ejiro will have none of that. “WHO LET THAT PSYCHO BACK IN?! Jesus, we were doing just fine without this Robin hood whacko, and now he’s back here for no reason? I hope he dies. He sucks dick anyway.”

 

“Yeah,” Annie replies, dripping with sarcasm. “Tryst sucks as much dick as I do. That look on Viktor’s face is fear, because everyone knows that the Sherwood Fable is as good as they get.”

 

“I don’t know that it’s fear, exactly. Maybe he’s just tired.”

 

“Yes, Judge,” Ejiro agrees. “That must be it.”

 

“You men are morons.”

 

Cue the lights. The crowds euphoric cheers quickly fade into despising screams as “Sinner” by Drowning Pool begins to rumble throughout the arena. Not wasting any time, Duran is out from the back and already moving across the stage. He glares out at the crowd, but can’t seem to focus his anger on anyone in particular.

 

“Look at him, guys. He doesn’t look as angry as usual. Think it has to do with the WF?” Annie tries to start a normal conversation back up.

 

“Of course not,” Ejiro chimes. “He’s just trying to throw everyone off by looking that way. I’ll bet he’s as pissed off as ever!”

 

“And introducing your Es Jay El World Champion....standing at six feet, eight inches tall...and weighing in at two hundred sixty five pounds....Joooooohn “The Sinner” Durrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaann!!!!”

 

Getting up onto the apron as quickly as a man his size can, he jumps into the ring and begins the staredown as he walks to the center of the ring to do some more taunting. Before he has his arms fully raised, however, Tarakanov is already jumping all over him, punching him in the back of the neck and kneeing him in the back. Duran falls as the bell is rung, and Tryst comes flying from the corner with a dropkick that connects with the shoulder of Viktor!

 

“Would you look at that? They didn’t even wait til the bell rung! Viktor REALLY wants that title, folks.”

 

“And why shouldn’t he, Judge? It’s the World Title!” Ejiro exclaims. “Hell, even I want it!”

 

Annie grumbles under her breath. “That’s because you’re a greedy son of a bitch.”

 

Viktor staggers a bit as Duran spins around and clocks him in the stomach as he steps back up to his feet. Pushing him into the ropes, he clotheslines him over and sends him crashing to the ground outside. He turns his attention to Tryst, having just gotten up, and points to him as if to say ‘you’re next.’ Tryst smirks at him before running straight at him. Duran, taken back by this charge, tries to grab Whitt as he slides right under him and grabs a hold of the ropes. Springing to his feet, he pushes off of the ropes and reaches around Duran’s neck, using his momentum to pull him down into a sleeper slam! Tryst gets back to his feet as Tarakanov dives back into the ring, and attempts an elbow drop onto the downed Duran. The Sinner moves, however, and Viktor eats the canvas!

 

“Raynor sure knew what he was doing,” alleges Judge, “if he was planning on this match being almost hillariously awkward. Tarakanov and Duran are like tanks, and Tryst is like a jet plane. Wonder if he’s got any missiles...Ejiro?”

 

“I have to believe he does, Judge. After all, he’s British.”

 

“What the fuck are you talking about, Ejiro?” Annie squalls at Ejiro, who ignores it.

 

“Did you hear something, Judge?”

 

“Not a thing.”

 

Ejiro snickers to Judge. “Man, we are SO smooth.”

 

“Smooth like my ass. Wait...DAMN!” Annie cries. “I’ll make you pay...and I’ll charge you interest.”

 

Duran rolls onto his knees and begins striking at Tarakanov, punch after punch after punch. Tryst, seizing an opportunity, rushes toward the giant and stops just short of him. Duran doesn’t even notice him, until he’s smashed in the head with a spinning kick. Trying to shake the cobwebs out, he shakes his head before getting kicked in the face a second time, and falling onto his back. Tryst climbs the turnbuckle at the speed of light and leaps backwards, flailing into a sort of mid-air flip, landing knees-first on Duran’s stomach. Duran struggles to breathe as Tarakanov regains his composure and jumps back into the fray, grabbing Duran by his long black hair and starting to pound away at his face. One. Two. Three. His fist begins to speed up. Four. Five. Six. Seven. He lets out a guttural scream of anger as he punches away at the face of Duran. Tryst, out of nowhere, grabs his fist on an upswing and knees him in the face as he struggles to keep it from connecting with Duran again. Tarakanov loses his focus, and Tryst ddt’s him to the mat!

 

“Oh God. This is already getting out of hand, gentlemen. If Tryst hadn’t stopped him, who knows what Tarakanov would’ve done to Duran.”

 

Ejiro and Judge, stunned, stare at Annie and yell in unison. “Are you KIDDING ME?!” Ejiro smacks himself in the face, and Judge tries desperately not to laugh.

 

“Annie,” Judge explains, “this is called professional wrestling. The point of it is to beat up your opponents. Have you ever realized that?”

 

Annie looks at Judge with fire in her eyes. “If you ever talk to me like that again, I’m going to kill Ejiro.”

 

“Wait, what the fuck?” Judge yelps. “What the hell, why me?”

 

“Why not you? I’m not going down for this,” Judge laughs.

 

Tryst goes for the quick pin on Tarakanov, while Duran gets to his feet behind him. The referee dives to the mat to make the count.

 

ONE!

 

Not gonna win a title like this. Not with Duran behind him, anyway.

 

TWO!

 

Tarakanov kicks out of the pin, and as Tryst rolls out of the way, Duran rears back his arm and waits for Viktor to stand up. He staggers up, and Duran hits him so hard he nearly flips sideways as he falls to the mat. He doesn’t look angry, however. He’s beginning to laugh. He yells something at The Red Rage, smirks at Tryst, and leaves just after saying “You can have it.”

 

“What’s this? Duran is giving up his title? WILLINGLY?!”

 

“I don’t know about this move, Judge. Giving up a title, for any reason, never seems to be the best idea.”

 

“Oh shut it Annie,” Ejiro manages. “It’s been confirmed, he’s going to the big leagues. Do you really think he cares about this pathetic little JL World Title? It’s scrap metal for him now.”

 

Annie reaches across Judge and punches Ejiro in the face, knocking him flat on his ass. “Your mouth is going to get you in trouble. Giving up a title is stupid; where is the honor in it? He took the time to win it, then just gives it away? I mean, I realize he wants to be fresh for his debut, but damn. What value does it have now?”

 

“I’ll tell you what value it has,” Judge exclaims. “Tryst and Tarakanov are going to RIP each other to shreds to get it. If you ask me, that’s value. And just a note to our fans, you can download a coupon from our website that is good for half off any dildo at– wait. Annie, damnit, PLEASE stop messing with my scripts.” Meanwhile, Annie laughs so hard she herself falls off of her chair. “I tried to be a dignified, prepared commentator, and look what you did to me! You know, if I had a trailer, I’d be there throwing a tantrum RIGHT now.”

 

Tryst, bewildered, just stares at Duran as he calmly walks down the ramp, and exits. Turning his attention back towards Tarakanov, he gets knocked upside the head with a devastating right hand. The crowd collectively groans as he puts his hands down to catch himself as he falls. Viktor lifts him back up and pushes him into the corner as hard as he can. Running in after him, he grabs him as he falls back and rams him into the corner again! Reaching around his waist, he pulls him overhead and slams him into the mat with a backdrop driver! The crowd boos as Viktor gets to his knees and laughs before going for the pin.

 

ONE!

 

Not this way. Not this early.

 

TWO!

 

Kick-out. Come on...you know you can do it.

 

TH-no! Tryst manages a kick out that enrages Tarakanov. He pulls The Sherwood Fable to his feet, pulls him towards him and drops him again with a short arm clothesline! He stares down spitefully at his opponent, trying to decide the best course of action. He can’t afford to let Tryst get a rhythm going; he can’t afford to let him get his second wind.

 

“Looks like he’s trying to slam Tryst to death, doesn’t it Ejiro?”

 

“Sure does, Judge. He knows how to counter quickness; pure, unadulterated power.”

 

“It isn’t that simple, you see. If Tryst manages to get going, he can move about three times as fast as Viktor Tarakanov, which would mean big trouble for The Red Rage.”

 

“Oh shut up, Annie,” Ejiro avers. “Logic has no place in the SJL. As if I need to remind you of that.”

 

Tryst gets to his feet, and Tarakanov locks a bearhug on him. Squeezing, slowly but surely, he gets tighter. Tryst begins to flail around in protest, but it is of no avail. Soon enough he gives up the fighting, and Tarakanov cockily lets up on the hold. As soon as his feet hit the ground, Tryst sweeps Tarakanov’s feet out from under him and clotheslines him to the mat! The crowd explodes in cheers as he backs off of Viktor and taunts him to get up. Tarakanov, angered at the taunt, leaps to his feet the quickest that he can, that not being too quick. He runs after Tryst, who gets a spring board lift off of the ropes and dropkicks him right in the knees! Tarakanov drops like a bag of bricks and falls face first to the mat! Tryst leaps back up and rushes over toward the turnbuckle, running up the ropes and leaping into the air again, connecting a backflip leg-drop onto the back of his knees! He pulls Viktor up and onto his feet just enough to push him over the ropes and onto the ground. After he falls, Tryst pulls himself onto the top of the ropes and executes a shooting star press onto Tarakanov!

 

“What’s with Tryst and all of these high-flying moves? Sure, they look good, but they’re not exactly going to keep The Red Rage down for long.”

 

“Wrong you are, Ejiro. He’s targeting the knees, which is something that WILL keep him down. Isn’t that right, Judge?”

 

“It is, Annie. Looks like Tryst is a bit rusty coming back ice cold into a Title match, but he’s not *that* rusty. His mind is still in the right place. I just wonder whether or not he’ll be able to use the crusade against the Red Rage.”

 

“Well, he’s Russian, Judge. That would point to no.” Annies says matter-of-factly.

 

“Annie...no...you know what? Nevermind.”

 

Tryst gets to his feet a little slower this time, but not as slow as The Red Rage, who is struggling to get up. Grabbing him by the arm, he irish whips him directly at the crowd barrier, hitting it knee first and falling over to the other side of it. Tryst follows him over and whips him at it again, with the same result. Tempted to grab a chair, The Sherwood Fable decides against it as he gets back into the ring and waits for The Red Rage to get up. Slowly, but surely, he does, and manages to get himself up and into the ring. He stands firmly; but it is clearly evident that his legs are weakening. His resolve, too, is weakening. He stares at Tryst with the same hate as before...and yells for him to attack. Tristan, being the man he is, refuses. He doesn’t want to attack; he’s not stupid. Luckily for him, Tarakanov does not have much patience, and he lunges forward to try and take down the Sherwood Fable. Tryst dodges and catches Viktor in the throat with a thrust kick! He doesn’t fall, however; he stumbles around and spins back to face Tryst, who now knees him in the stomach, and goes in for a northern lights suplex. He tries in vain, as Tarakanov smashes him with his forearm across the back and then drops him down into a facebuster! He rolls him onto his back and puts his hands around Tryst’s neck, and begins to choke him. The referee begins to yell at him to let it go, but to no avail; The Red Rage is in a trance. The referee begins to count down....One.....Two....Three....Four...he releases. He hooks the leg, and goes for the three count.

 

ONE!

 

No...please no. Don’t get choked out of a title.

 

TWO!

 

The ferocity begins to rattle him back to life. His hand moves...signs of life.

 

THRE-no!!!!!!

 

“HE KICKED OUT! YEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!”

 

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

“Quiet you two! We’ve gotta call this match! Sigh...I’m tired of being the voice of reason.”

 

Tarakanov pulls Tryst back to his feet and tries to send him into the ropes, but Tryst counters with a kick to the groin!

 

“Oh my God! I can’t believe he did that!

[Guest Aecas]

I can definitely say I was enjoying that match until it was cut tragicly short, you on't have anything to be ashamed of Trst as it was really starting to et me going. However I'm sure that your going to be back up to speed in no time, so keep it up

[Guest SupaTaft]

I read through you match and let me just say that the wrestling part wasn't at all bad. I really liked it. For not knowing too much about either of the characters, you had an excellent grasp of how they were supposed to act and react with each other.

 

You said last night that the commentary is what tripped you up and I can tell that in your match. The new team is, to say the least, odd. Once you get a handle on how the characters should act and react with each other, it'll be much easier. You had the basic interaction right and, while shaky, your commentary wasn't honestly that bad. Nothing really stuck out of place, but I'll give ya just a quick run-down on how I write the characters. Maybe something I do could help.

 

Judge- I just write him as the straight man. Unless Ejiro has somehting to say, Judge is pretty straight forward doing the Play By Play. If Ejiro says something, then Judge is highly likely to agree with it. When Annie and Ejiro go at it, he finds them childish. Also, I have him keep the swearing to the bare minimum, keeping his professionallism at all times unless something REALLY freaks him out, such as a big spot or Annie's menstruation jokes.

 

Ejiro- Annoying little prick who'll make bold statements and find rediculous ways to get out of backing them up. You wrote him pretty well, actually. I especially liked the way that you had him act like Christian to Judge's Edge. Keep doing that, except don't have Judge respond in the same way.

 

Annie- Annie is an oddball. I don't remember if you were around for the team of Edwin/Axis/King, but just write Annie as Edwin from a female perspective. And with jokes about being a lesbian. And about menstruation. You did Annie alright too. Not as good as Ejiro, but better than Judge.

 

So there it is. You don't have to go by that, I just wrote down what I use when I write them. Again, you did a pretty damn good job in what you had there, but all you need to do is polish off the commentary and you'll be fine. YOU CAN DO IT, MERC!!

 

*gives Merc a bah mitzvah card*

 

Yeah... They ran out of encouragement cards...

 

-Taft