From The Vault: Promo Edition

[King Cucaracha 0]

--Seeing as everyone no-sold it originally, here it is again! To no-sell again!--

 

 

 

As Lockdown returns from it’s brief commercial break, we are greeted by the SWF’s ace reporter Ben ‘Please don’t call me Benjamin’ Hardy stood in a lavish dressing room. Around him the sound of steel drums being played echoes from, judging by the sound quality, one impressive sound system…the casual scene broken as Ben beings to speak…

 

“Welcome back to…to SWF Lockdown. Please forgive my…confused tone and body language, because I’m here in the Unnamed’s locker room…and…as you can hear in the background, steel drums are playing. I’m…I’m as confused as you are. The room is empty except for Landon Maddix and Meg…”

 

Ben turns around, allowing the camera to catch sight of Landon Maddix and Megan Skye sat on deckchairs in one corner of the room...a bright white light being shone down on them by an out of sight heater, as both hold tropical looking cocktails in their hands. Landon is wearing black sunglasses, floral swimming shorts and the most hideous Hawaian shirt this side of Mark Madden's wardrobe...looking like a total fool in the process...while Megan wears nothing more than a blue Hawaian print bikini and sarong, which understandably catches Ben's eye.

 

"Meg...Megan Skye." Ben stutters.

"Heeey!" Maddix smiles as he catches sight of Ben over his glasses. "Come an' join de party, ma main mon!"

Confused, Hardy just blinks idioticly trying to comprehend what's going on. "Landon...if you don't mind me asking...what the hell is this?" he then questions. "You've got a Cruiserweight Title match in little under an hour, and here you are drinking cocktails on a deckchair. I came to interview you about the match, an..."

 

Maddix chuckles to himself, before pulling an un-occupied deckchair out from beside him.

 

"Benjameen..." Maddix says in his hideously fake Carribean accent. "You has got to relax more mon! I knows I gots a Cruiserr'weight Titarl match lata' on...but me does not care! Me is relax'een wit' da beau'tee'ful Megan...here, dis chair 'ees for you Ben. Come an' join de party."

 

Still bemused, Hardy slowly sits cautiously down on the deckchair, looking perhaps more stupid than Maddix in his now slightly crumpled black 'suit'. As his eyes catch sight of Megan, Hardy nearly misses the deckchair altogether, but luckily manages to catch himself and sit down safely.

 

"Ha ha...yeah mon!" Landon chuckles. "You wants a cocktail?"

"No...no, thank you." Ben bemusedly mumbles. "Landon...what is all this?"

"Dis? Wat is dis. Why, dis is my own lee'tle pee'ce o' palidise! You know, I thought to ma'self...Landon...yo gotta reee...laaax! You know what I be sayin'? So I got me some tunes...da steel drums. Remindin' me of ma vaca'shun to da Maldives. Beauuutiful beaches mon. And de beautiful women too, you know."

 

Landon chuckles again, taking another sip from his slightly toxic looking blue cocktail as Megan seems to be trying to get a suntan for some reason.

 

"Landon..." Ben interrupts. "Wh...why?"

"Why wat Benjameen?"

"Why...why the lights, why the deckchairs...why aren't you wearing any pants, and why are you talking like Dusty Rhodes?"

"Dusty Rhodes!?!" Landon exclaims. "Man...are you makin' fun o' de way I talkeeen?"

"No...of course not. It's just..."

"Benjameen...relax. Here...have yo'self a cocktail, yah?"

 

Maddix grabs a jug from a table beside him, filled about halfway with the weird looking blue liquid. Grabbing another glass, Landon pours the blue cocktail into the glass, pops in one of those plastic curly straws you get in packs of cereal sometimes, and passes it to Ben. Unsurprisingly apprehensive at tasting the drink, Ben places the glass to one side of the deckchair.

 

"Now...were was me? Ah, yes...me was talkin' about de Maldives. Me learn there how to relax...and to enjoy me life a lots more. An' now, me is chillin' me'self before de big Cruiserr'weight Titarl match wit' de Wildchild. Now, me knows de Wildchild 'ees de reigning champion, and he 'ees da forma' SJL Heavyweight Champion. But mon'...I's been dere, and I's done dat. I was de' last ever SJL Heavyweight Champion, de' last ever SJL Undisputed Champion. And yet, de Wildchild pretends he is not knowing who I is? Dat is not funny mon. I knows you knows who I is. An' Wildchild...I knows who you is too. Which ees why I is listenin' to de steel drums, why I is drinkin' de cocktails and why I is relaxin' in de heat. So I is like what Wildchild be."

 

Landon again take a sip from his drink, this time looking at Ben expecting him to do the same. Begrudgingly Ben begins to do so, as in his line of vision Megan suddenly stretches...causing Ben to almost choke on his drink.

 

"You knows something Ben...I is ready for...Ben...is you ok mon?" Landon asks, only the slightest hint of compassion audible over his amused voice.

"Ye...yeah...I...I think so." Ben splutters, still choking a little.

"Ah...dat is great, yah? Now...me is talkin' about being ready for de Wildchild. I knows dis' is a big test for me...but if me concentrate on ancient Jamaican philosophies, me will be ok. Me have to remember to relax. Then, me can stand me'self up next to de mountain...and chop eet down, wit' de edge of me hand."

"Landon..." Ben interrupts, seemingly free from the choking liquid now. "What exactly is the deal here? I mean this is...is..."

"Stupid?" Landon inquires, lowering the sunglasses down to his nose. "Stupid?"

 

Landon smiles, before taking off his sunglasses slowly...and hurling them across the room, the cheap plastic they've been made out of shattering as it hits the wall. Suddenly Landon loses his composure as he scrambles off the deckchair as angrily as he can, yelling down at Hardy who suddenly finds himself stuck on a deckchair with the former JL Undisputed Champion yelling at him.

 

"You're DAMN RIGHT it's stupid. The steel drums are stupid, this ugly *BEEP*ing shirt is stupid, this drink tastes like crap...and you Wildchild..." Landon snaps, turning to the camera. "...you and your damn accent, your damn cool calm presence...you're not stupid. Oh no, no. You're a JOKE! You're so proud of your heritage...and so proud of your Bahamian roots. And it makes you look like a joke. From that ugly ring attire to your damn voice...I don't care how many titles you've won, how experienced you are in this ring, what you've done in the past...as far as I'm concerned, you're a joke! And this is coming from the guy who used to hit people with baguettes and dress up in European costumes...just to pander to these ungrateful fans."

 

Boos can be heard in the background, as suddenly Landon angrily turns away from the camera...Hardy having got the hell out of his way, as the former JL Champion grabs his vacated deckchair and tips it over sending the table and drinks flying too.

 

"And do you want to know the funniest thing?" Landon asks, turning back to the camera. "People have the nerve to call me a joke. Oh yeah. That's all I've been hearing all week. 'Ooh, Landon lost to Sacred, Landon lost his titles...what a joke.' Since Clusterfuck I've been hearing that. And I am sick to Todd damn death of it! I'm not a joke. Look at me...I'm a member of the most indimidating, dominating and above all powerful force in this company The Unnamed. I'm the man who dominated the SJL for the past...two...months! I'm no joke. And yet, it's all I've heard all week."

 

Landon's cheeks begin to slowly redden in his angered state, as Megan too has gotten off her deckchair and out of the firing line.

 

"And then...on Lockdown...you had the audacity to claim you didn't know who I was. And you even implied that I'm...a bitch? Wildchild, until then I could just about bear you. You know...every time I watched the SWF and saw you on the screen, I couldn't stand the look of you. Everytime I heard you talk, that ridiculous Rastafarawhatever the *BEEP* accent you've got...it just grated right through me. Your butchery of the English language used to make me want to smash chairs through my T.V screen...just to shut you up. But...I could still just about bare you. But the moment you implied I was a joke, a nobody, a bitch...you stepped over that line buddy! Now...this is personal. This isn't just about proving myself to you, and this isn't just about proving myself to Va'aiga and Duran. This isn't even about winning more gold for the Unnamed. This isn't about anyone's heritage...I'm an equal opportunity ass kicker. Bahamian, Jamaican, Belgian, German, Australian, Tazmanian...Ben, what nationality are you?"

"Er...Ame...American." Ben weakly replies from off camera.

"I'd kick your ass too!" Landon snaps back, which Ben doesn't react too very bravely. "See Wildchild...this is about kicking...your...ass. Proving you wrong. Showing you...that I'm not a nobody. And showing the world that I'm no joke. And when it's all said and done, and I've taken your precious little belt...then..."

 

Landon chuckles, before turning back around and tipping over a second deckchair in anger...a grin still on his face as he turns back around.

 

"Then we'll see who the bitch is!"

 

The grin dissapears, as Landon walks out of the camera shot...which now focuses on the destroyed 'Carribean scene', before fading out.

[Mr. S£im Citrus 0]

All this because I called you Sacred's bitch, huh?

 

How is the record against Sacred these days, by the way?

[Guest Goodear]

Is it as good as Wildchild's record against Ejiro?

 

 

OH BURN!

 

 

Seriously, promos am good and I should write those sorts of things too... but I'm too busy writing matches and being cool. Or not writing matches and having the runs as last week's case may be. Yes. Yes.

 

I'm now picturing Dusty Rhodes wrestling like Wildchild and it fills me with GLEE.

[JJ Johnson 0]

I'd write a promo, but, you know, I'm kinda MUTE.

[Mr. S£im Citrus 0]

Nah, Ejiro, bad parallel; Landon's record against Sacred is more like my record against Danny. I've actually beaten you.

[Toxxic 0]

J3 should speak, just very occasionally to REALLY make a point and in a hoarse, breathy stage-whisper type way.

 

Man, throat injuries are a real BUMMER aren't they?

[Angel_Grace_Blue 0]

Mute, schmute. He's just lazy.