-Carolinas Match-
Chris Casino(©) vs Johnny Maverick
3 RP Limit per Wrestler.
RP Period Begins: Now!
RP Period Ends: March 14, 2010 11:59 pm EST
Strat Deadline: March 14, 2010 11:59pm EST
Chris Casino(C) vs Johnny Maverick
7 posts • Page 1 of 1
Chris Casino(C) vs Johnny Maverick
by Bean » March 3, 2010 11:49 am
Hardcore Ninja Bean
First Blind Fed Head!
First Blind Fed Head!
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Bean - Wrestling Legend
- Posts: 942
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Re: Chris Casino(C) vs Johnny Maverick
by Johnny Maverick » March 3, 2010 6:59 pm
Dog- N. 1. a domesticated canid, Canis familiaris, bred in many varieties.
2. Slang. an ugly, boring, or crude person.
Johnny finishes doing a squat and bars the weight. He steps forward and stetches his neck gingerly. This building looks like it should be condemned; There are loose wires going to the crummy stereo system, blasting 'Rise Above' by Black Flag. A flickering television playing the local weather. It's been cold for a long damn time.
But things are finally starting to heat up.
Johnny rubs his neck.
"I'm not gonna lie Paul, that K-cutter hurt. It STILL hurts. But you know what? I'll be fine in a couple days. What about you? I've never had to give someone the ABM twice in a row before, nor has anyone survived my Perfect Armbar without tapping out. Does that make you special? Well a little I guess. Special in the 'I like potatoes!' kinda way. You aren't a wrestler. You're a dog thats too stupid to know when its beat. Your master lets you off of your leash to play and piddle and doesn't care if you get a little rough because it suits his interests... Well I'm the sunofabitch who finally took that leash and choked you the (BLEEP) out with it. I wanted the masters attention and I got it."
Johnny smirks.
"Chris Casino. I haven't been back for a week and I'm already sick of you, so I can't imagine how the fans feel. Just another rich guy who had his whole life handed to him. How dare you treat this like your vacation? THIS. IS. MY. LIFE! I eat, sleep, and breathe this industry, and I'm not gonna let you use it as his own personal playground. I m going to BEAT some (BLEEP) respect into you, Casino. After I'm done with you and the face you spent thousands making look pretty is a crimson mask, clumps of your thousand dollar haircut are torn out of your skull and littering the ground, the teeth you probably spent millions on are scattered around the arena like the Easter Bunny hid them and then you'll see that it's time. It's time to either step up or step off. Go ahead, pay some refs off. I don't give a (BLEEP). Bring your little dime-a-dozen butt-buddy Krusty Kid Paul if you want to and i'll drop him on his head a third and fourth time if that's what it takes to crack his thick skull. Hell, bring the fifty other wrestlers like him. I'll knock out Krunchy Guy Kevin, Squishy Dude Steve, Cracklin Oat Bran Karl... whoever the hell it takes to save the fans by getting that belt off of your waist. And if you're smart, you'll emerge from your failure a smarter man. You will learn that all of your money and power outside of the ring is irrelevant when you're facing a goddam juggernaut; A man who will Never Give Up."
"Never Surrender."
"And Never Relent."
Intensity is etched on Johnnys face.
"But don't fret Chris. The loss of your belt is nothing to be ashamed of. This loss is going to be good for you. I am going to save you from yourself. After High Stakes you are going to look at your failure and...realize that it's okay. After you tap like a bitch and I take that belt from you....you will finally be truly happy."
The intensity gives way to another smirk.
"Be ready to thank me."
Johnny thumbs his nose before stretching his neck out again.
"See you in the ring."
2. Slang. an ugly, boring, or crude person.
Johnny finishes doing a squat and bars the weight. He steps forward and stetches his neck gingerly. This building looks like it should be condemned; There are loose wires going to the crummy stereo system, blasting 'Rise Above' by Black Flag. A flickering television playing the local weather. It's been cold for a long damn time.
But things are finally starting to heat up.
Johnny rubs his neck.
"I'm not gonna lie Paul, that K-cutter hurt. It STILL hurts. But you know what? I'll be fine in a couple days. What about you? I've never had to give someone the ABM twice in a row before, nor has anyone survived my Perfect Armbar without tapping out. Does that make you special? Well a little I guess. Special in the 'I like potatoes!' kinda way. You aren't a wrestler. You're a dog thats too stupid to know when its beat. Your master lets you off of your leash to play and piddle and doesn't care if you get a little rough because it suits his interests... Well I'm the sunofabitch who finally took that leash and choked you the (BLEEP) out with it. I wanted the masters attention and I got it."
Johnny smirks.
"Chris Casino. I haven't been back for a week and I'm already sick of you, so I can't imagine how the fans feel. Just another rich guy who had his whole life handed to him. How dare you treat this like your vacation? THIS. IS. MY. LIFE! I eat, sleep, and breathe this industry, and I'm not gonna let you use it as his own personal playground. I m going to BEAT some (BLEEP) respect into you, Casino. After I'm done with you and the face you spent thousands making look pretty is a crimson mask, clumps of your thousand dollar haircut are torn out of your skull and littering the ground, the teeth you probably spent millions on are scattered around the arena like the Easter Bunny hid them and then you'll see that it's time. It's time to either step up or step off. Go ahead, pay some refs off. I don't give a (BLEEP). Bring your little dime-a-dozen butt-buddy Krusty Kid Paul if you want to and i'll drop him on his head a third and fourth time if that's what it takes to crack his thick skull. Hell, bring the fifty other wrestlers like him. I'll knock out Krunchy Guy Kevin, Squishy Dude Steve, Cracklin Oat Bran Karl... whoever the hell it takes to save the fans by getting that belt off of your waist. And if you're smart, you'll emerge from your failure a smarter man. You will learn that all of your money and power outside of the ring is irrelevant when you're facing a goddam juggernaut; A man who will Never Give Up."
"Never Surrender."
"And Never Relent."
Intensity is etched on Johnnys face.
"But don't fret Chris. The loss of your belt is nothing to be ashamed of. This loss is going to be good for you. I am going to save you from yourself. After High Stakes you are going to look at your failure and...realize that it's okay. After you tap like a bitch and I take that belt from you....you will finally be truly happy."
The intensity gives way to another smirk.
"Be ready to thank me."
Johnny thumbs his nose before stretching his neck out again.
"See you in the ring."
- Johnny Maverick
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Re: Chris Casino(C) vs Johnny Maverick
by Team Brion » March 4, 2010 5:06 pm
de·lu·sion
Pronounced[dih-loo-zhuhn]
–noun
1.an act or instance of deluding.
2.the state of being deluded.
3.a false belief or opinion: delusions of grandeur.
4.Psychiatry. a fixed false belief that is resistant to reason or confrontation with actual fact: a paranoid delusion.
We open up on a nondescript hallway and find the reigning REBEL Carolinas Champion waiting for us. Hanging behind him is a large banner with one simple word printed on it. REBEL. Casino is dressed not in his usual custom made clothing, but instead his ring gear. The Carolinas Championship is draped over his left shoulder and the look in his cold blue eyes tells us he's ready for a fight. No smirk. No smile. No bullshit.
Casino: Before I get to my opponent for High Stakes let me educate you people with a little history lesson. The date? July 9th, 2009. That marked the last time that the REBEL Carolinas Championship had been successfully on two separate occasions. Here's another, May 24th, 2008. That date marks the last time the Championship you see resting on my shoulder was successfully defended on three separate occasions. Why do I bring this up? Simple, because at High Stakes I will not only put my title up for the third time, but I will retain the belt in turn doing something no one has done in damn near two years. At High Stakes I add a third successful title defense to my already legendary title reign.
Casino: Now, let's get to the meat and potatoes of why we're here shall we? Johnny Maverick. The man of a million nicknames, none of them even remotely entertaining. A man who knows 1,005 holds, most of which he uses on himself in the dead of night as he quietly cries about how no one loves him. Maverick, a man who walks into MY promotion with some championship from another promotion. A championship that sounds like he pinned a fat hairy man in a inflatable pool of baby oil to win. Johnny Maverick who beat a drugged up KKP and now somehow walks into a chance of a lifetime. A title shot against me. Maverick, the stakes do not get any higher than a match against me my friend. But I see you're working hard. Training and all that. You know, whenever I see a promo start with some mook training and sweating I think....
cli·ché
Pronounced[klee-shey, kli-]
–noun
1.a trite, stereotyped expression; a sentence or phrase, usually expressing a popular or common thought or idea, that has lost originality, ingenuity, and impact by long overuse, as sadder but wiser, or strong as an ox.
2.(in art, literature, drama, etc.) a trite or hackneyed plot, character development, use of color, musical expression, etc.
3.anything that has become trite or commonplace through overuse.
Casino: But maybe that's just me.
Casino shifts his weight from foot to foot. Still no smirk. It's all business today. Pity for Maverick. The Championship belt gleams brightly.
Casino: Maverick you make some mighty big claims in your trite little promo. You're the man who is going to beat some respect into me? Highly doubtful. You're just some punk ass, third rate, one step above being a backyard wrestler who believes his own hype. I won't resort to name dropping but buddy, many people FAR better than you have tried to stop me over the years and here I still stand. I've been in some of the most brutal knock down drag out fights you could ever imagine. I've pinned so called 'technical terrors' over and over again. When I came to REBEL, I made the fans sit up and take notice of this place. But you? You think you're going to beat me and win the Carolinas Championship.
Casino offers us a polite golf clap.
Casino: Well then by all means, I welcome you to try.
A hint of a smirk now. He's starting to have fun.
Casino: Maverick, I don't need to pay off anyone to beat you. Although I might have to offer cash incentives for the fans to sit there and watch you attempt to wrestle. I don't need help from crooked referees or from KKP. You see Maverick, to me you're basically a night off. An easy win. Another notch in my continuing run as the most important champion in this promotion. But, you see I came to REBEL to give back to the fans. To make them see that REBEL is more than just some no talent hacks beating each other with trash cans and baseball bats. I came to REBEL to make this place....Interesting. And you? You're going to help me.
Casino shifts the Championship from one shoulder to the other. He pats it with supreme confidence.
Casino: Never surrender. Never relent. Never give up. Those words came from your mouth Maverick. Hell you should be a motivational speaker for third graders and fat nerds who spend 12 hours a day play World of Warcraft. But I have to admit, those words kinda inspired me. So let's say you and I raise the bar a little? This is High Stakes after all. The question is, can you afford the ante? You see I'm putting up my Championship and you? Well, basically you have nothing to lose. I pin you and people will shrug in indifference because me beating you is to be expected. But, BUT, you beat me? You're an instant star. A headliner. But you need to be willing to play. I was born and raised in a city known for it's 'High Stakes' so let's do this. You and I will meet on March 16th, in.....An 'I Quit Match.'
Now the smirk emerges. A glint of malice in the eyes.
Casino: Come on maverick, you want to make me tap? Let's see if you're that good. But wait! There's more! You see, the stakes just aren't high enough yet. Not only do I want our match to be contested under 'I Quit' rules, BUT, I want you to put up for stupid little championship as well. Think about it. Two titles on the line. One person has to cry out that they quit, that the other man is better. That my friend, is about as High Stakes as it gets. So there you have it. You want the big time, I'm willing to give it to you. For a price. Of course if the stakes are to rich for your blood, if you're -
cow·ard
Pronounced[kou-erd]
–noun
1.a person who lacks courage in facing danger, difficulty, opposition, pain, etc.; a timid or easily intimidated person.
–adjective
2.lacking courage; very fearful or timid.
3.proceeding from or expressive of fear or timidity
Casino: Then I totally understand.
Casino takes the belt from his shoulder and looks down at it. He smiles as if holding a newborn child.
Casino: We could always have a plain, boring match where I simply pin you in about seven minutes and leave you looking like the ass you are. Or....
Casino replaces the belt back on his shoulder.
Casino: We can make 'High Stakes' something to remember. I eagerly await your response.
Casino winks for the camera and we cut to black.
* cut to a commercial for the new Dirty Money tee shirt! Only $19.99! *
Pronounced[dih-loo-zhuhn]
–noun
1.an act or instance of deluding.
2.the state of being deluded.
3.a false belief or opinion: delusions of grandeur.
4.Psychiatry. a fixed false belief that is resistant to reason or confrontation with actual fact: a paranoid delusion.
We open up on a nondescript hallway and find the reigning REBEL Carolinas Champion waiting for us. Hanging behind him is a large banner with one simple word printed on it. REBEL. Casino is dressed not in his usual custom made clothing, but instead his ring gear. The Carolinas Championship is draped over his left shoulder and the look in his cold blue eyes tells us he's ready for a fight. No smirk. No smile. No bullshit.
Casino: Before I get to my opponent for High Stakes let me educate you people with a little history lesson. The date? July 9th, 2009. That marked the last time that the REBEL Carolinas Championship had been successfully on two separate occasions. Here's another, May 24th, 2008. That date marks the last time the Championship you see resting on my shoulder was successfully defended on three separate occasions. Why do I bring this up? Simple, because at High Stakes I will not only put my title up for the third time, but I will retain the belt in turn doing something no one has done in damn near two years. At High Stakes I add a third successful title defense to my already legendary title reign.
Casino: Now, let's get to the meat and potatoes of why we're here shall we? Johnny Maverick. The man of a million nicknames, none of them even remotely entertaining. A man who knows 1,005 holds, most of which he uses on himself in the dead of night as he quietly cries about how no one loves him. Maverick, a man who walks into MY promotion with some championship from another promotion. A championship that sounds like he pinned a fat hairy man in a inflatable pool of baby oil to win. Johnny Maverick who beat a drugged up KKP and now somehow walks into a chance of a lifetime. A title shot against me. Maverick, the stakes do not get any higher than a match against me my friend. But I see you're working hard. Training and all that. You know, whenever I see a promo start with some mook training and sweating I think....
cli·ché
Pronounced[klee-shey, kli-]
–noun
1.a trite, stereotyped expression; a sentence or phrase, usually expressing a popular or common thought or idea, that has lost originality, ingenuity, and impact by long overuse, as sadder but wiser, or strong as an ox.
2.(in art, literature, drama, etc.) a trite or hackneyed plot, character development, use of color, musical expression, etc.
3.anything that has become trite or commonplace through overuse.
Casino: But maybe that's just me.
Casino shifts his weight from foot to foot. Still no smirk. It's all business today. Pity for Maverick. The Championship belt gleams brightly.
Casino: Maverick you make some mighty big claims in your trite little promo. You're the man who is going to beat some respect into me? Highly doubtful. You're just some punk ass, third rate, one step above being a backyard wrestler who believes his own hype. I won't resort to name dropping but buddy, many people FAR better than you have tried to stop me over the years and here I still stand. I've been in some of the most brutal knock down drag out fights you could ever imagine. I've pinned so called 'technical terrors' over and over again. When I came to REBEL, I made the fans sit up and take notice of this place. But you? You think you're going to beat me and win the Carolinas Championship.
Casino offers us a polite golf clap.
Casino: Well then by all means, I welcome you to try.
A hint of a smirk now. He's starting to have fun.
Casino: Maverick, I don't need to pay off anyone to beat you. Although I might have to offer cash incentives for the fans to sit there and watch you attempt to wrestle. I don't need help from crooked referees or from KKP. You see Maverick, to me you're basically a night off. An easy win. Another notch in my continuing run as the most important champion in this promotion. But, you see I came to REBEL to give back to the fans. To make them see that REBEL is more than just some no talent hacks beating each other with trash cans and baseball bats. I came to REBEL to make this place....Interesting. And you? You're going to help me.
Casino shifts the Championship from one shoulder to the other. He pats it with supreme confidence.
Casino: Never surrender. Never relent. Never give up. Those words came from your mouth Maverick. Hell you should be a motivational speaker for third graders and fat nerds who spend 12 hours a day play World of Warcraft. But I have to admit, those words kinda inspired me. So let's say you and I raise the bar a little? This is High Stakes after all. The question is, can you afford the ante? You see I'm putting up my Championship and you? Well, basically you have nothing to lose. I pin you and people will shrug in indifference because me beating you is to be expected. But, BUT, you beat me? You're an instant star. A headliner. But you need to be willing to play. I was born and raised in a city known for it's 'High Stakes' so let's do this. You and I will meet on March 16th, in.....An 'I Quit Match.'
Now the smirk emerges. A glint of malice in the eyes.
Casino: Come on maverick, you want to make me tap? Let's see if you're that good. But wait! There's more! You see, the stakes just aren't high enough yet. Not only do I want our match to be contested under 'I Quit' rules, BUT, I want you to put up for stupid little championship as well. Think about it. Two titles on the line. One person has to cry out that they quit, that the other man is better. That my friend, is about as High Stakes as it gets. So there you have it. You want the big time, I'm willing to give it to you. For a price. Of course if the stakes are to rich for your blood, if you're -
cow·ard
Pronounced[kou-erd]
–noun
1.a person who lacks courage in facing danger, difficulty, opposition, pain, etc.; a timid or easily intimidated person.
–adjective
2.lacking courage; very fearful or timid.
3.proceeding from or expressive of fear or timidity
Casino: Then I totally understand.
Casino takes the belt from his shoulder and looks down at it. He smiles as if holding a newborn child.
Casino: We could always have a plain, boring match where I simply pin you in about seven minutes and leave you looking like the ass you are. Or....
Casino replaces the belt back on his shoulder.
Casino: We can make 'High Stakes' something to remember. I eagerly await your response.
Casino winks for the camera and we cut to black.
* cut to a commercial for the new Dirty Money tee shirt! Only $19.99! *
Tittylover 3:16 Says, 'I Just Pimped Yo Ass!'
-
Team Brion - Wrestling Legend
- Posts: 905
- Joined: June 5, 2007 2:31 pm
- Location: Tulsa, Oklahoma
Re: Chris Casino(C) vs Johnny Maverick
by Team Brion » March 8, 2010 11:05 pm
* Atlanta, Georgia *
Sitting alone in a television studio we find the reigning REBEL Carolinas Champion, Chris Casino. Dressed from head to toe in the best clothes that money can buy, he looks like a fashion model for GQ. The Carolinas Championship belt rests on a nearby table, it's metal plates buffed and polished to a high shine. With a smirk plastered firmly on face and cold blue eyes locked onto a television screen, Chris Casino seems to be both at ease and plotting malice at the same time.
Casino: What. Is. This. Shit?
The camera pans around and we see that Casino is watching the latest 'wrestling' show from PWA. On screen we see third rate talent botching moves and generally stinking up the place. One person in particular seems to have caught Casinos interest. The PWA Grizzly Beer (what the (BLEEP) kinda title is that!?) Champion....Johnny Maverick.
The camera pans around to catch the bemused expression on Casinos face.
Casino: This is the mook who comes into MY promotion and claims he'll be the man who finally beats me for the REBEL Carolinas Championship? A drunken six year old with learning disabilities would stand a better chance at beating me. A one legged crack whore in need of a fix stands a better chance of beating me for the belt than this walking STD. Speaking of STD'S I read something about this Maverick guy shacking up with some chick named Jackie O'Riley. I googled her named but all I could find on her was that she performs donkey shows down in Mexico.
Casino spins around in his chair and smiles for the camera. His perfect white teeth gleam.
Casino: So.....It's been a few days and STILL no word from Mr. Maverick about my little 'High Stakes' wager. Title for Title contested under 'I Quit' Rules. Come on Maverick, you talked all that shit about never quitting and never surrender and blah, blah (BLEEP) blah. The way you were carrying on though kinda made me think of someone though.....
Casino smiles and waves his hand back and forth across his face.
The John Cena 'You Can't See Me' gesture.
Perhaps the lowest insult anyone can issue to a wrestler who has any shred of self respect. But then he is talking about Johnny Maverick.
Casino: What's wrong Johnny? Is that stupid PWA Grizzly Bear belt THAT important to you? Look if it'll make you feel better, after I beat you we can go to Toys R' Us and I'll buy you another title. Just grow some damn balls already. You see unlike you, my time is important. Unlike you, I actually care about wrestling. This isn't a job to me Johnny. This is my life and to see some dick from another promotion walk in here and talk smack to me.....Well that pisses me off. It makes me even more furious when after I issue a rebuttal, he's suddenly quiet as a church mouse. you think I'd roll over for someone like you Maverick?
Casino: I did my research on you Maverick. You're quite the star in that piss ant promotion you come from. But in REBEL? You're nothing. Just some random guy. Yeah you won a lot of titles in that sad excuse of a wrestling promotion, but here? Losing to me will be the highlight of your shitty career. You stepped up to me and talked about how I'd break before you. How you'd smash me, beat me, take my title. The veins on your Klingon like forehead stood out as you shouted for all to hear, about your so called greatness. Maverick, you're simply a mark for yourself. Worse yet, with your ducking my challenge you're showing me and the rest of the locker room how much of a mangina you are.
Casino stands up from his chair, picks up his championship belt and drapes it over his shoulder.
Casino: You call yourself names like, PWA's #1 Jobber, The Minor Threat, Jobby Maverick, The Best Thing on the Lower Midcard and PWAs Losingest Superstar among others. I have to say that those names fit you to a tee. The numerous nicknames tells me that you're simply unsure of both your talents, which are few, and who you are as a man. I know you're desperately trying to be 'hip' and all that but you just make yourself look stupid everytime you tack on another pointless nickname. it's people like you Maverick that I'm saving REBEL from. People with no talent. No heart. No balls.
Casino: Why hide Johnny? The truth will find you come High Stakes. It could be in a 'I Quit' Match or a simple wrestling match, the truth will find you. That truth is this, while you're a celebrity in PWA, I'm a GOD in REBEL. While you do your little song and dance and entertain your 37 fans in PWA, I make REBEL better with every second I stay on it's roster. While you strut around and preen for your male admirers, I kick the shit out of anyone who dares to even think of taking my Carolinas Championship. But....It's okay to be scared Johnny.
Casino squats down (as does the camera man) and Casino talks to us softly, as if trying to comfort a child. A slow child at that.
Casino: I know you're scared. You beat a doped up KKP and suddenly thought you were hot shit. But no pookie, you're not. You're just a night off, a vacation for me. Do you know what I'm going to do after our match? After I hurt you? Humiliate you? I'm going to track down your family. One by one by one. Locate anyone and everyone who has ever loved or cared for you. Unearth your fans and your friends which I suspect are few. And then I will spit in each of their faces and tell them gleefully that I ended your embarrassment of a career. I will show them pictures of your bloody and mangled frame. I will give them DVDS, er, VHS copies of our match and watch them as their hearts break when I break bone after bone after bone.
Casino: Shhhhhhhhhh. Don't cry little one. It'll be over soon. I'll beat you and you can take your happy ass back to PWA where people give a shit about you. But here? You don't belong here. I won't allow it. I can't have it. People like you will not drag down a company I'm trying to save. I have nicknames too you know. They call me the career ender. The heart of evil. Untouchable. Unstoppable. But the one I like most? The name I cherish above all else?
A brief pause followed by a sly smile.
Casino: Champion. Goodbye Johnny.
Casino motions for us to cut and we fade to black.
* cut to a commercial for herpies relief, with new spokesman, Johnny Maverick! *
Sitting alone in a television studio we find the reigning REBEL Carolinas Champion, Chris Casino. Dressed from head to toe in the best clothes that money can buy, he looks like a fashion model for GQ. The Carolinas Championship belt rests on a nearby table, it's metal plates buffed and polished to a high shine. With a smirk plastered firmly on face and cold blue eyes locked onto a television screen, Chris Casino seems to be both at ease and plotting malice at the same time.
Casino: What. Is. This. Shit?
The camera pans around and we see that Casino is watching the latest 'wrestling' show from PWA. On screen we see third rate talent botching moves and generally stinking up the place. One person in particular seems to have caught Casinos interest. The PWA Grizzly Beer (what the (BLEEP) kinda title is that!?) Champion....Johnny Maverick.
The camera pans around to catch the bemused expression on Casinos face.
Casino: This is the mook who comes into MY promotion and claims he'll be the man who finally beats me for the REBEL Carolinas Championship? A drunken six year old with learning disabilities would stand a better chance at beating me. A one legged crack whore in need of a fix stands a better chance of beating me for the belt than this walking STD. Speaking of STD'S I read something about this Maverick guy shacking up with some chick named Jackie O'Riley. I googled her named but all I could find on her was that she performs donkey shows down in Mexico.
Casino spins around in his chair and smiles for the camera. His perfect white teeth gleam.
Casino: So.....It's been a few days and STILL no word from Mr. Maverick about my little 'High Stakes' wager. Title for Title contested under 'I Quit' Rules. Come on Maverick, you talked all that shit about never quitting and never surrender and blah, blah (BLEEP) blah. The way you were carrying on though kinda made me think of someone though.....
Casino smiles and waves his hand back and forth across his face.
The John Cena 'You Can't See Me' gesture.
Perhaps the lowest insult anyone can issue to a wrestler who has any shred of self respect. But then he is talking about Johnny Maverick.
Casino: What's wrong Johnny? Is that stupid PWA Grizzly Bear belt THAT important to you? Look if it'll make you feel better, after I beat you we can go to Toys R' Us and I'll buy you another title. Just grow some damn balls already. You see unlike you, my time is important. Unlike you, I actually care about wrestling. This isn't a job to me Johnny. This is my life and to see some dick from another promotion walk in here and talk smack to me.....Well that pisses me off. It makes me even more furious when after I issue a rebuttal, he's suddenly quiet as a church mouse. you think I'd roll over for someone like you Maverick?
Casino: I did my research on you Maverick. You're quite the star in that piss ant promotion you come from. But in REBEL? You're nothing. Just some random guy. Yeah you won a lot of titles in that sad excuse of a wrestling promotion, but here? Losing to me will be the highlight of your shitty career. You stepped up to me and talked about how I'd break before you. How you'd smash me, beat me, take my title. The veins on your Klingon like forehead stood out as you shouted for all to hear, about your so called greatness. Maverick, you're simply a mark for yourself. Worse yet, with your ducking my challenge you're showing me and the rest of the locker room how much of a mangina you are.
Casino stands up from his chair, picks up his championship belt and drapes it over his shoulder.
Casino: You call yourself names like, PWA's #1 Jobber, The Minor Threat, Jobby Maverick, The Best Thing on the Lower Midcard and PWAs Losingest Superstar among others. I have to say that those names fit you to a tee. The numerous nicknames tells me that you're simply unsure of both your talents, which are few, and who you are as a man. I know you're desperately trying to be 'hip' and all that but you just make yourself look stupid everytime you tack on another pointless nickname. it's people like you Maverick that I'm saving REBEL from. People with no talent. No heart. No balls.
Casino: Why hide Johnny? The truth will find you come High Stakes. It could be in a 'I Quit' Match or a simple wrestling match, the truth will find you. That truth is this, while you're a celebrity in PWA, I'm a GOD in REBEL. While you do your little song and dance and entertain your 37 fans in PWA, I make REBEL better with every second I stay on it's roster. While you strut around and preen for your male admirers, I kick the shit out of anyone who dares to even think of taking my Carolinas Championship. But....It's okay to be scared Johnny.
Casino squats down (as does the camera man) and Casino talks to us softly, as if trying to comfort a child. A slow child at that.
Casino: I know you're scared. You beat a doped up KKP and suddenly thought you were hot shit. But no pookie, you're not. You're just a night off, a vacation for me. Do you know what I'm going to do after our match? After I hurt you? Humiliate you? I'm going to track down your family. One by one by one. Locate anyone and everyone who has ever loved or cared for you. Unearth your fans and your friends which I suspect are few. And then I will spit in each of their faces and tell them gleefully that I ended your embarrassment of a career. I will show them pictures of your bloody and mangled frame. I will give them DVDS, er, VHS copies of our match and watch them as their hearts break when I break bone after bone after bone.
Casino: Shhhhhhhhhh. Don't cry little one. It'll be over soon. I'll beat you and you can take your happy ass back to PWA where people give a shit about you. But here? You don't belong here. I won't allow it. I can't have it. People like you will not drag down a company I'm trying to save. I have nicknames too you know. They call me the career ender. The heart of evil. Untouchable. Unstoppable. But the one I like most? The name I cherish above all else?
A brief pause followed by a sly smile.
Casino: Champion. Goodbye Johnny.
Casino motions for us to cut and we fade to black.
* cut to a commercial for herpies relief, with new spokesman, Johnny Maverick! *
Tittylover 3:16 Says, 'I Just Pimped Yo Ass!'
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Team Brion - Wrestling Legend
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Re: Chris Casino(C) vs Johnny Maverick
by Johnny Maverick » March 10, 2010 1:35 am
((Sorry man, been a little busy with work))
par-o-dy- N. 1. a humorous or satirical imitation of a serious piece of literature or writing
2. any humorous, satirical, or burlesque imitation, as of a person, event, etc.
3. It means you can't sue me, (BLEEP).
Sitting alone in his mothers basement we find the reigning REBEL Carolinas Champion, Chris Casino. Dressed from head to toe in the best clothes he could find at JC Penney, he looks like a fashion model for Downs Syndrome Monthly. The Carolinas Championship belt rests on a nearby table, it's Tinfoil gleaming under the lights. With a smirk plastered firmly on face and cold blue eyes locked onto a television screen, Chris Casino who is NOT Johnny Maverick in costume at all, seems to have the sort of free time to stalk Johnny Maverick on the internet like an obsessed thirteen year old girl.
Casino: This. Shit. Is. Great!
He watches as Matthew Engel, Riona Langly, The Order of Chaos, Jacob Figgins, Johnny Maverick, and hell even Matt Stone put on some of the best wrestling matches ever witnessed by man. True artists painting masterpieces with their blood, sweat, and tears. Gladiators in an age that has forgotten the meaning of the term. At it's most brtal, there is still a beauty to it never before seen by man. One person in particular seems to have caught the champions interest. The Grizzly Beer (Its named after a beer that used to sponsor our company you insufferable (BLEEP)) Champion. Johnny Maverick.
The camera pans to show the smile of Chris Casino....Jesus Christ...it's like his teeth are made of bathroom tile.
Casino: Well Well Johnny. I don't have a whole hell of a lot to say. My worst insult to you is to compare you to an 8-time world champion and talk about how a one-legged crack whore could beat me. In fact a one-legged crack whore HAS beat me but I don't have the time to go into my mothers punishment methods. i'm too busy watching Johnny Maverick videos.
Chris swoons a little before snapping himself out of it and looking back at the camera.
Casino:Johnny hasn't talked to me in a few days. I'm starting to get worried. What....what if he's too busy to talk to me? What if he's off wrestling in a real company? What....what if he's off with that Jackie girl?
Chris looks at the phone for a moment, a twinge of jealousy in his face.
Casino: What if....he doesn't like me?
Chris takes the phone off of the receiver and starts to dial before hanging up nervously before talking to himself
Casino:Oh I can't stand it! It's almost like...like...I'm not the center of the universe! But how can that be? My First grade teacher told me I was special! I got a magic helmet and everything!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ugh, enough of THAT shit. If I have to be Chris Casino for another minute I may fellate a gun barrel." says Johnny, pulling the fake teeth out of his mouth and taking out a REAL belt. The PWA Grizzly Beer Championship.
"The fact of the matter is Chris. I WANT you to have a shot at this belt. I really do. Now LEGALLY I can't defend this belt outside of a PWA ring so I guess I'm a coward. Suuuuure. Ask anyone who's faced me and they'll tell you that Johnny Maverick is a coward just like Krusty Kid Paul is an upstanding drug free citizen. Oh and by the way, the fact that you pop pills like pac-man and hold your booze like a 5-year-old isn't my damn problem. You lost just like every cookie-cutter Balls Mahoney wanna-be will. It's why you're here. You act like a complete drunken idiot while the real wrestlers ply their trade. You are the cartoon before the feature presentation. Stop trying to hide from it. Accept the failure. Get off of the pills and keep your boozin in check. Maybe then I'll treat you like, you know, a human being."
"Chris, you claim that you are saving the company, yet trying to run off any new competition. Why don't you pull your head from the bulls ass and just say you aren't trying to save the company...you just don't want any new talent to reveal you as the stale idiot you are. You want to refute this fact? Well I have a suggestion."
Johnny produces a clipboard.
"This is a PWA contract. If you want my belt so bad, you sign this and you come to the PWA. You beat some of the best up-and-comers in the industry and you EARN a chance to fight me for the Grizzly Beer Title. I welcome it."
"Hey, maybe it's not the instant gratification you've come to expect from this shithole, but it's all I can offer you in a legal sense. I think you'll accept it if you aren't an....oh....what was that word you used?"
cow·ard – N.
1.a person who lacks courage in facing danger, difficulty, opposition, pain, etc.; a timid or easily intimidated person.
–adjective
2.lacking courage; very fearful or timid.
3.proceeding from or expressive of fear or timidity
"Yeah, that's it. I'm not offering this to you out of pity. I see a good wrestler in you. Who knows? Maybe you'll come to the PWA and pin me. One two three. Maybe you'll win the Grizzly Beer Title. You know what would make it even sweeter? If you, I dunno, earned it. Or earned anything for once in your life."
"now I must admit. When the going gets tough you're willing to... google search my name and find some of my many nicknames. I couldn't be arsed to look up anything about you however because frankly I wouldn't give a flying shit if you put a turd with wings in my hand. You mentioned not having free time, though you apparently have enough of it to find some nicknames I haven't been called in months."
Johnny twists the cap off of a CHAOS THEORY OATMEAL STOUT and takes a swig.
"Jobby Maverick. PWA's Number One Jobber. These were names I accepted. I accepted all of the catcalls and the boos. When a wrestler called me a failure, that was all I needed for another hour in the gym. Someone had me locked in a submission, I could see the doubt in every fans eyes and it gave me the strength to keep from tapping. I took every bit of the failure in my soul and became Failures Patron Saint. It's God. And every bit of that failure in my heart got me this."
Johnny stares lovingly at his Grizzly Beer Title.
"The glory of this is that it's not exclusive. My Brotherhood of Failure and my Hoodie Ninjas are evidence of all of this. Failure can bring out the best in anybody, and i am going to make sure it brings out the best in you, Chris. You have had your career in Rebel Pro handed to you by a group of talentless rednecks. you have never been given the chance to fail. Chris....I am going to give you that chance. Whether you leave the Arena with that belt or not, you will have experienced some degree of failure. And if you are smart you will embrace it."
"Accept that you may never be the best but you can always be better. Learn to Never Give Up."
"Never Surrender."
"And Never Relent."
"And maybe...just maybe....."
Johnny smirks cockilly.
"Maybe you'll win a REAL belt someday. Until then, you're just wasting my time."
" 'I Quit' Match? I accept. A little embarassment should speed the teaching process along, so see you in the ring Chris."
Johnny leans in and turns off the camera.
par-o-dy- N. 1. a humorous or satirical imitation of a serious piece of literature or writing
2. any humorous, satirical, or burlesque imitation, as of a person, event, etc.
3. It means you can't sue me, (BLEEP).
Sitting alone in his mothers basement we find the reigning REBEL Carolinas Champion, Chris Casino. Dressed from head to toe in the best clothes he could find at JC Penney, he looks like a fashion model for Downs Syndrome Monthly. The Carolinas Championship belt rests on a nearby table, it's Tinfoil gleaming under the lights. With a smirk plastered firmly on face and cold blue eyes locked onto a television screen, Chris Casino who is NOT Johnny Maverick in costume at all, seems to have the sort of free time to stalk Johnny Maverick on the internet like an obsessed thirteen year old girl.
Casino: This. Shit. Is. Great!
He watches as Matthew Engel, Riona Langly, The Order of Chaos, Jacob Figgins, Johnny Maverick, and hell even Matt Stone put on some of the best wrestling matches ever witnessed by man. True artists painting masterpieces with their blood, sweat, and tears. Gladiators in an age that has forgotten the meaning of the term. At it's most brtal, there is still a beauty to it never before seen by man. One person in particular seems to have caught the champions interest. The Grizzly Beer (Its named after a beer that used to sponsor our company you insufferable (BLEEP)) Champion. Johnny Maverick.
The camera pans to show the smile of Chris Casino....Jesus Christ...it's like his teeth are made of bathroom tile.
Casino: Well Well Johnny. I don't have a whole hell of a lot to say. My worst insult to you is to compare you to an 8-time world champion and talk about how a one-legged crack whore could beat me. In fact a one-legged crack whore HAS beat me but I don't have the time to go into my mothers punishment methods. i'm too busy watching Johnny Maverick videos.
Chris swoons a little before snapping himself out of it and looking back at the camera.
Casino:Johnny hasn't talked to me in a few days. I'm starting to get worried. What....what if he's too busy to talk to me? What if he's off wrestling in a real company? What....what if he's off with that Jackie girl?
Chris looks at the phone for a moment, a twinge of jealousy in his face.
Casino: What if....he doesn't like me?
Chris takes the phone off of the receiver and starts to dial before hanging up nervously before talking to himself
Casino:Oh I can't stand it! It's almost like...like...I'm not the center of the universe! But how can that be? My First grade teacher told me I was special! I got a magic helmet and everything!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ugh, enough of THAT shit. If I have to be Chris Casino for another minute I may fellate a gun barrel." says Johnny, pulling the fake teeth out of his mouth and taking out a REAL belt. The PWA Grizzly Beer Championship.
"The fact of the matter is Chris. I WANT you to have a shot at this belt. I really do. Now LEGALLY I can't defend this belt outside of a PWA ring so I guess I'm a coward. Suuuuure. Ask anyone who's faced me and they'll tell you that Johnny Maverick is a coward just like Krusty Kid Paul is an upstanding drug free citizen. Oh and by the way, the fact that you pop pills like pac-man and hold your booze like a 5-year-old isn't my damn problem. You lost just like every cookie-cutter Balls Mahoney wanna-be will. It's why you're here. You act like a complete drunken idiot while the real wrestlers ply their trade. You are the cartoon before the feature presentation. Stop trying to hide from it. Accept the failure. Get off of the pills and keep your boozin in check. Maybe then I'll treat you like, you know, a human being."
"Chris, you claim that you are saving the company, yet trying to run off any new competition. Why don't you pull your head from the bulls ass and just say you aren't trying to save the company...you just don't want any new talent to reveal you as the stale idiot you are. You want to refute this fact? Well I have a suggestion."
Johnny produces a clipboard.
"This is a PWA contract. If you want my belt so bad, you sign this and you come to the PWA. You beat some of the best up-and-comers in the industry and you EARN a chance to fight me for the Grizzly Beer Title. I welcome it."
"Hey, maybe it's not the instant gratification you've come to expect from this shithole, but it's all I can offer you in a legal sense. I think you'll accept it if you aren't an....oh....what was that word you used?"
cow·ard – N.
1.a person who lacks courage in facing danger, difficulty, opposition, pain, etc.; a timid or easily intimidated person.
–adjective
2.lacking courage; very fearful or timid.
3.proceeding from or expressive of fear or timidity
"Yeah, that's it. I'm not offering this to you out of pity. I see a good wrestler in you. Who knows? Maybe you'll come to the PWA and pin me. One two three. Maybe you'll win the Grizzly Beer Title. You know what would make it even sweeter? If you, I dunno, earned it. Or earned anything for once in your life."
"now I must admit. When the going gets tough you're willing to... google search my name and find some of my many nicknames. I couldn't be arsed to look up anything about you however because frankly I wouldn't give a flying shit if you put a turd with wings in my hand. You mentioned not having free time, though you apparently have enough of it to find some nicknames I haven't been called in months."
Johnny twists the cap off of a CHAOS THEORY OATMEAL STOUT and takes a swig.
"Jobby Maverick. PWA's Number One Jobber. These were names I accepted. I accepted all of the catcalls and the boos. When a wrestler called me a failure, that was all I needed for another hour in the gym. Someone had me locked in a submission, I could see the doubt in every fans eyes and it gave me the strength to keep from tapping. I took every bit of the failure in my soul and became Failures Patron Saint. It's God. And every bit of that failure in my heart got me this."
Johnny stares lovingly at his Grizzly Beer Title.
"The glory of this is that it's not exclusive. My Brotherhood of Failure and my Hoodie Ninjas are evidence of all of this. Failure can bring out the best in anybody, and i am going to make sure it brings out the best in you, Chris. You have had your career in Rebel Pro handed to you by a group of talentless rednecks. you have never been given the chance to fail. Chris....I am going to give you that chance. Whether you leave the Arena with that belt or not, you will have experienced some degree of failure. And if you are smart you will embrace it."
"Accept that you may never be the best but you can always be better. Learn to Never Give Up."
"Never Surrender."
"And Never Relent."
"And maybe...just maybe....."
Johnny smirks cockilly.
"Maybe you'll win a REAL belt someday. Until then, you're just wasting my time."
" 'I Quit' Match? I accept. A little embarassment should speed the teaching process along, so see you in the ring Chris."
Johnny leans in and turns off the camera.
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Re: Chris Casino(C) vs Johnny Maverick
by Team Brion » March 11, 2010 1:22 pm
* Atlanta, Georgia *
We open up on the spacious apartment of one Chris Casino and find our reigning REBEL Carolinas Champion relaxing on his leather sofa looking as if he has not one care in the world. He's dressed casually in faded blue jeans and a Dirty Money tee shirt (only $19.99!) and playing softly in the background we can hear the latest from Sade. Laying on the sofa cushion next to Casino is his pride and joy, the REBEL Carolinas Championship. Casino greets us with a warm (well, warm for him) smile and a devilish twinkle in the eye.
Casino: After much prodding, Johnny Maverick decided to grace us with his presence. After watching his asinine promo, I regret that I called him out as now I've lost five minutes of my life I'll never get back. So how does this so called top flight competitor respond to my 'High Stakes' challenge? What brilliant concept did little Johnny unveil to counter act my brilliance?
A pause.
Casino: He does a cliched promo that has been done to death.
The trademark Casino laugh. He's knows he's better than you. It's a simple fact.
Casino: That was your best shot Maverick? Seriously? It was like watching a group of retarded monkeys trying to figure out how to peel a banana. You even threw in a little pretend Carolinas Championship belt made out of tinfoil. (sarcastically) Very original.
Casino leans back into his couch cushions and props his feet up on the coffee table.
Casino: Your weak ass promo and it's lack of originality only further confirmed that you're another sad excuse of a wrestler that must be cleansed from the REBEL roster. Why am I trying to run you off Maverick? It's not from fear that you're actually any competition to me, no, I simply want you and your useless championship out of MY promotion. I cannot fear a man who has no talent or charisma. However I do worry that if REBEL allows someone like you, a man who signed his contract with a crayon to wrestle a man of my caliber then this promotion will sink back into the muck from which I've rescued it from. You see, since my arrival in REBEL, attendance has been up, DVD sales have almost doubled and people are once more taking notice that REBEL is the premiere wrestling promotion on the East Coast. All because of me. But to allow you in? That's like admitting Paris Hilton to a Mensa Meeting.
Casino: So here we stand, days away from 'High Stakes' and while I applauded you for finding the balls to meet me in an 'I Quit' match you deny me the chance to take your little trinket of a belt. You hide behind legalities. (a shrug of the shoulders) that's fine. Making you tap will have to do for now. The way I see it, after I beat you, you'll simply scamper back to that shithole you came from and REBEL will be all the better without you. By the way, you have KKP scared. Your constant mentioning of him has Krusty convinced that you have a serious man crush on him that won't be satisfied until you sexually assault him. I'm inclined to belive him. But regardless of your confused sexuality and your lame excuses to defend your pointless belt against me, I still have you in a match you can never hope to win. I Quit. I hope your practicing saying those words Johnny, because I cannot wait to hear you shriek them in agony as I break apart your body.
Casino reaches over and picks the Carolinas Championship up from the sofa cushion. He looks at it for a moment and then places it on his lap for all to see.
Casino: If the REBEL Carolinas Championship isn't as you say a 'real championship' then why make the effort to win it? Why do this big dog and pony show when you know that you desperately WANT this belt? I only wanted your stupid Grizzly Man Title because you see value in it. Taking things from people has become a hobby of mine. You offer me a contract to sign with your third rate promotion. Save your little contract Johnny, I can only save one promotion at a time. Even I'm not God, although I'm close.
Casino: So while you contradict yourself at every turn I simply shake my head and wonder how a pitiful sack of garbage like you even got a title shot against me in the first place. Pity? Maybe some kind of deal between PWA & REBEL? Who knows. Who cares. All I know is that at High Stakes I will make you quit. I will break you and I'll enjoy every (BLEEP) second of it. You imply that I have everything handed to me which only shows what a total moron you are. I fought and bled for everything I've archived both here and up in NAPW. I've been through wars with people who have more talent in their little toes than you do in your entire body. Not once has anything been given to me you little piss ant. I've had to hurt people, break spirits and smash barriers to EARN each and every achievement I've racked up. But you wouldn't know of such things. Hell from what I hear about PWA, once you sign a contract they make up some stupid sounding title and simply hand it to you.
Casino removes his feet from the coffee table, stands up and drapes the belt over his shoulder. His eyes are ablaze with intensity.
Casino: At High Stakes I'll make you tap. I'll retain the title and leave you for dead in the middle of the ring. This is not speculation or the bragging of an over confident individual. This is the promise of a man who has ended the careers of FAR better people than you. In my entire career I've only tapped out....Once. You can't possibly hope to think that you'll be the second man who performs such a miracle do you? You're nothing Maverick. A mere curtain jerker who walked into the biggest match of his sad pitiful career. A match, an 'I Quit' match against Chris Casino for the REBEL Carolinas Championship. Alas, you're so blinded by your own stupidness than you cannot see this amazing once in a lifetime occurrence. For some stupid reason you actually think you'll win.
Casino shakes his head 'No.'
Casino: When the day comes when I lose this belt, many years from now, it won't be to some dick from a promotion no one has ever heard of. I will not lose to some mook who sexually desires KKP. I will not lose to a moron who walks around with a belt that means he's the king of grizzlies or whatever the (BLEEP) that thing is supposed to represent. In short Johnny, at High Stakes I make you tap and leave you broken. Just as I've done to so many others.
I cannot be stopped.
I do not submit.
I do not lose to pathetic jobbers.
I am Chris Casino, The Future of REBEL.
You Johnny Maverick, are a victim of circumstance.
Bitch.
Casino motions for us to cut and we fade out.
* cut to a commercial for High Stakes *
We open up on the spacious apartment of one Chris Casino and find our reigning REBEL Carolinas Champion relaxing on his leather sofa looking as if he has not one care in the world. He's dressed casually in faded blue jeans and a Dirty Money tee shirt (only $19.99!) and playing softly in the background we can hear the latest from Sade. Laying on the sofa cushion next to Casino is his pride and joy, the REBEL Carolinas Championship. Casino greets us with a warm (well, warm for him) smile and a devilish twinkle in the eye.
Casino: After much prodding, Johnny Maverick decided to grace us with his presence. After watching his asinine promo, I regret that I called him out as now I've lost five minutes of my life I'll never get back. So how does this so called top flight competitor respond to my 'High Stakes' challenge? What brilliant concept did little Johnny unveil to counter act my brilliance?
A pause.
Casino: He does a cliched promo that has been done to death.
The trademark Casino laugh. He's knows he's better than you. It's a simple fact.
Casino: That was your best shot Maverick? Seriously? It was like watching a group of retarded monkeys trying to figure out how to peel a banana. You even threw in a little pretend Carolinas Championship belt made out of tinfoil. (sarcastically) Very original.
Casino leans back into his couch cushions and props his feet up on the coffee table.
Casino: Your weak ass promo and it's lack of originality only further confirmed that you're another sad excuse of a wrestler that must be cleansed from the REBEL roster. Why am I trying to run you off Maverick? It's not from fear that you're actually any competition to me, no, I simply want you and your useless championship out of MY promotion. I cannot fear a man who has no talent or charisma. However I do worry that if REBEL allows someone like you, a man who signed his contract with a crayon to wrestle a man of my caliber then this promotion will sink back into the muck from which I've rescued it from. You see, since my arrival in REBEL, attendance has been up, DVD sales have almost doubled and people are once more taking notice that REBEL is the premiere wrestling promotion on the East Coast. All because of me. But to allow you in? That's like admitting Paris Hilton to a Mensa Meeting.
Casino: So here we stand, days away from 'High Stakes' and while I applauded you for finding the balls to meet me in an 'I Quit' match you deny me the chance to take your little trinket of a belt. You hide behind legalities. (a shrug of the shoulders) that's fine. Making you tap will have to do for now. The way I see it, after I beat you, you'll simply scamper back to that shithole you came from and REBEL will be all the better without you. By the way, you have KKP scared. Your constant mentioning of him has Krusty convinced that you have a serious man crush on him that won't be satisfied until you sexually assault him. I'm inclined to belive him. But regardless of your confused sexuality and your lame excuses to defend your pointless belt against me, I still have you in a match you can never hope to win. I Quit. I hope your practicing saying those words Johnny, because I cannot wait to hear you shriek them in agony as I break apart your body.
Casino reaches over and picks the Carolinas Championship up from the sofa cushion. He looks at it for a moment and then places it on his lap for all to see.
Casino: If the REBEL Carolinas Championship isn't as you say a 'real championship' then why make the effort to win it? Why do this big dog and pony show when you know that you desperately WANT this belt? I only wanted your stupid Grizzly Man Title because you see value in it. Taking things from people has become a hobby of mine. You offer me a contract to sign with your third rate promotion. Save your little contract Johnny, I can only save one promotion at a time. Even I'm not God, although I'm close.
Casino: So while you contradict yourself at every turn I simply shake my head and wonder how a pitiful sack of garbage like you even got a title shot against me in the first place. Pity? Maybe some kind of deal between PWA & REBEL? Who knows. Who cares. All I know is that at High Stakes I will make you quit. I will break you and I'll enjoy every (BLEEP) second of it. You imply that I have everything handed to me which only shows what a total moron you are. I fought and bled for everything I've archived both here and up in NAPW. I've been through wars with people who have more talent in their little toes than you do in your entire body. Not once has anything been given to me you little piss ant. I've had to hurt people, break spirits and smash barriers to EARN each and every achievement I've racked up. But you wouldn't know of such things. Hell from what I hear about PWA, once you sign a contract they make up some stupid sounding title and simply hand it to you.
Casino removes his feet from the coffee table, stands up and drapes the belt over his shoulder. His eyes are ablaze with intensity.
Casino: At High Stakes I'll make you tap. I'll retain the title and leave you for dead in the middle of the ring. This is not speculation or the bragging of an over confident individual. This is the promise of a man who has ended the careers of FAR better people than you. In my entire career I've only tapped out....Once. You can't possibly hope to think that you'll be the second man who performs such a miracle do you? You're nothing Maverick. A mere curtain jerker who walked into the biggest match of his sad pitiful career. A match, an 'I Quit' match against Chris Casino for the REBEL Carolinas Championship. Alas, you're so blinded by your own stupidness than you cannot see this amazing once in a lifetime occurrence. For some stupid reason you actually think you'll win.
Casino shakes his head 'No.'
Casino: When the day comes when I lose this belt, many years from now, it won't be to some dick from a promotion no one has ever heard of. I will not lose to some mook who sexually desires KKP. I will not lose to a moron who walks around with a belt that means he's the king of grizzlies or whatever the (BLEEP) that thing is supposed to represent. In short Johnny, at High Stakes I make you tap and leave you broken. Just as I've done to so many others.
I cannot be stopped.
I do not submit.
I do not lose to pathetic jobbers.
I am Chris Casino, The Future of REBEL.
You Johnny Maverick, are a victim of circumstance.
Bitch.
Casino motions for us to cut and we fade out.
* cut to a commercial for High Stakes *
Tittylover 3:16 Says, 'I Just Pimped Yo Ass!'
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Re: Chris Casino(C) vs Johnny Maverick
by Johnny Maverick » March 13, 2010 5:41 am
mas-sa-cre
–noun
1.
the unnecessary, indiscriminate killing of a large number of human beings or animals, as in barbarous warfare or persecution or for revenge or plunder.
2.
a general slaughter, as of persons or animals: the massacre of millions during the war.
3.
Informal. a crushing defeat, esp. in sports.
His stance was loose, in complete contradiction to the seriousness on his face.
His opponents stance was firm, he was more of a traditionalist.
"Jeez Johnny, you look a little intense. We're just sparring." says fellow Muay Boran practitioner Jacob Figgins.
Muay Boran (the predecessor to Muay Thai) had only gone out of practice largely due to how difficult it was to master. Utilizing a wider and lower stance than Muay Thai, the art of the nine weapons (Hands, Legs, elbows, head, and knees) is truly a sight to behold when mastered. Combining vicious strikes, acrobatics, and a few brutal throws to create a martial art considered to be the most deadly ever created. Johnathan Kennedy Fitzsimmons AKA Johnny Maverick made his name in shootfighting due to his mastery of this art and his bringing it to the world of professional wrestling has been considered controversial by some. Toss in his mastery of submission maneuvers and his 8 hours of training a day and you have a man referred to by many as 'The Most Dangerous Man in Wrestling'.
"Some punk kid is running his mouth about our company and the belt that we both made famous. Yer damn right I look a little intense." says Johnny.
"Your stance is too loose, I could take you out with a basic calf kick" says Figgy, going for said kick, but Johnny steps back, the kick just barely hitting him.
"Yeah, if you could hit me. You keep your stance so stiff I can see what you have in mind before you even think it. Plus that means you won't be able to dodge as quickly." says Johnny as he takes a stomp forward before springing up and past Figgy, turning in midair and driving his elbow down hard on Figgys skull.
"Damn Johnny!" says Figgy, holding his head.
"Shit man, I'm sorry. here, this oughta help with the pain." Johnny motions to one of his assistants who hands him a CHAOS THEORY OATMEAL STOUT.
"Are you kidding? I might have a cracked skull! I need serious medical attention!" says Figgy. Johnny motions to his assistant again who hands him a bottle of CHAOS THEORY TRIPLE DISTILLED WHISKEY.
"Now you're talkin" says Figgy, disappearing with his bottle.
Johnny chuckles as he takes off his headband and starts to cut off the tape on his arms.
"So apparently, allowing me into Rebel Pro is like 'allowing Paris Hilton into a MENSA meeting'. Well as far as I can tell, this is a company of tough, hardcore (BLEEP) with amazing wrestling ability who aren't afraid to bleed to please their fans and YOU are a spoiled little brat who lucked into a belt he doesn't deserve. Gee buddy, kinda sounds like YOU are the Paris Hilton in this situation. Trust me, I would know. I'm a member of MENSA and there ain't a damn chance you'd be let into any of our meetings. You had a few dead giveaways in your promo. You kept talking about making me tap and shit, when I'm pretty sure that the rules of an 'I Quit' match....the match you CHALLENGED me to, dictate that to lose you have to say 'I Quit'. Proving that you seem to not have much of an understanding of the words that come out of your own mouth. You could claim to have some manner of short term memory loss combined with dyslexia, but that would just be sugarcoating it. I thin k you might just be stupid as hell. Also, I think at some point you also used the word 'mangina'. Which means you're stupid and also apparently a 14 year old boy."
"Oh, and I may be bisexual but you can tell your buddy Paul that he isn't my type, so he has no reason to be afraid. I wouldn't touch that guy with YOUR dick. Even though from the looks of your 'special' relationship with him, you might have already done that. Chris you talk about all of the barriers you've broken when I have yet to hear any examples. There's already been a lotta rich guy wrestlers, there's already been a retarded one. Your in-ring ability is as stale as the unused condom you've been saving in your wallet for the night you finally meet a girl who will throw you a pity screw."
"See, I told myself I wasn't going to talk much about my PWA history, but apparently my hand has been forced. It's a little hard NOT to when every word out of your mouth is 'Your belt sucks blah blah our company is better blah blah blah I'm here to save this company from garbage like you blah blah blah'. You know you keep saying that, and I don't think you understand... You claim to be trying to save this compnay.... Well I am trying to save WRESTLING from stale idiots like you, and i'm starting too pick up that you're far too dense to actually LEARN anything from the ass-beating I'm going to uncork on you at High Stakes. So I guess that leaves me with only one option."
Johnny smirks. There are some cruel intentions behind that smirk.
"You claim to be perfect, and that's good. The only way you are going to win is if you are PERFECT. If you blink, my knee will completely destroy your skull. If you give me your back I will suplex you into another time zone. If one of your punches is even a liiiiiiiiiiiiiittle bit off I will take your arm and in a split second you will be on the ground wondering if there's an unembarassing way to say 'I Quit'. Oh, and here's a tip; The closest is the german pronunciation. 'Ich beendigte.' You'll at least be able to retain SOME amount of your dignity."
"So go ahead and treat me like dirt. Don't sweat me, I'm just 'The Minor Threat' right? Just keep telling yourself that. Just let your ego blind you to the fact that this isn't going to be a Match.....this is going to be a (BLEEP) massacre. I want you to consider yourself lucky if you can even WALK after this match. At High Stakes I'm going to accomplish what you never could. I am going to save this company."
Intensity is etched on the face of Johnny.
"By destroying you."
"Chris? I'm gonna bend you. I'm gonna break you. I'm gonna laugh."
-End-
–noun
1.
the unnecessary, indiscriminate killing of a large number of human beings or animals, as in barbarous warfare or persecution or for revenge or plunder.
2.
a general slaughter, as of persons or animals: the massacre of millions during the war.
3.
Informal. a crushing defeat, esp. in sports.
His stance was loose, in complete contradiction to the seriousness on his face.
His opponents stance was firm, he was more of a traditionalist.
"Jeez Johnny, you look a little intense. We're just sparring." says fellow Muay Boran practitioner Jacob Figgins.
Muay Boran (the predecessor to Muay Thai) had only gone out of practice largely due to how difficult it was to master. Utilizing a wider and lower stance than Muay Thai, the art of the nine weapons (Hands, Legs, elbows, head, and knees) is truly a sight to behold when mastered. Combining vicious strikes, acrobatics, and a few brutal throws to create a martial art considered to be the most deadly ever created. Johnathan Kennedy Fitzsimmons AKA Johnny Maverick made his name in shootfighting due to his mastery of this art and his bringing it to the world of professional wrestling has been considered controversial by some. Toss in his mastery of submission maneuvers and his 8 hours of training a day and you have a man referred to by many as 'The Most Dangerous Man in Wrestling'.
"Some punk kid is running his mouth about our company and the belt that we both made famous. Yer damn right I look a little intense." says Johnny.
"Your stance is too loose, I could take you out with a basic calf kick" says Figgy, going for said kick, but Johnny steps back, the kick just barely hitting him.
"Yeah, if you could hit me. You keep your stance so stiff I can see what you have in mind before you even think it. Plus that means you won't be able to dodge as quickly." says Johnny as he takes a stomp forward before springing up and past Figgy, turning in midair and driving his elbow down hard on Figgys skull.
"Damn Johnny!" says Figgy, holding his head.
"Shit man, I'm sorry. here, this oughta help with the pain." Johnny motions to one of his assistants who hands him a CHAOS THEORY OATMEAL STOUT.
"Are you kidding? I might have a cracked skull! I need serious medical attention!" says Figgy. Johnny motions to his assistant again who hands him a bottle of CHAOS THEORY TRIPLE DISTILLED WHISKEY.
"Now you're talkin" says Figgy, disappearing with his bottle.
Johnny chuckles as he takes off his headband and starts to cut off the tape on his arms.
"So apparently, allowing me into Rebel Pro is like 'allowing Paris Hilton into a MENSA meeting'. Well as far as I can tell, this is a company of tough, hardcore (BLEEP) with amazing wrestling ability who aren't afraid to bleed to please their fans and YOU are a spoiled little brat who lucked into a belt he doesn't deserve. Gee buddy, kinda sounds like YOU are the Paris Hilton in this situation. Trust me, I would know. I'm a member of MENSA and there ain't a damn chance you'd be let into any of our meetings. You had a few dead giveaways in your promo. You kept talking about making me tap and shit, when I'm pretty sure that the rules of an 'I Quit' match....the match you CHALLENGED me to, dictate that to lose you have to say 'I Quit'. Proving that you seem to not have much of an understanding of the words that come out of your own mouth. You could claim to have some manner of short term memory loss combined with dyslexia, but that would just be sugarcoating it. I thin k you might just be stupid as hell. Also, I think at some point you also used the word 'mangina'. Which means you're stupid and also apparently a 14 year old boy."
"Oh, and I may be bisexual but you can tell your buddy Paul that he isn't my type, so he has no reason to be afraid. I wouldn't touch that guy with YOUR dick. Even though from the looks of your 'special' relationship with him, you might have already done that. Chris you talk about all of the barriers you've broken when I have yet to hear any examples. There's already been a lotta rich guy wrestlers, there's already been a retarded one. Your in-ring ability is as stale as the unused condom you've been saving in your wallet for the night you finally meet a girl who will throw you a pity screw."
"See, I told myself I wasn't going to talk much about my PWA history, but apparently my hand has been forced. It's a little hard NOT to when every word out of your mouth is 'Your belt sucks blah blah our company is better blah blah blah I'm here to save this company from garbage like you blah blah blah'. You know you keep saying that, and I don't think you understand... You claim to be trying to save this compnay.... Well I am trying to save WRESTLING from stale idiots like you, and i'm starting too pick up that you're far too dense to actually LEARN anything from the ass-beating I'm going to uncork on you at High Stakes. So I guess that leaves me with only one option."
Johnny smirks. There are some cruel intentions behind that smirk.
"You claim to be perfect, and that's good. The only way you are going to win is if you are PERFECT. If you blink, my knee will completely destroy your skull. If you give me your back I will suplex you into another time zone. If one of your punches is even a liiiiiiiiiiiiiittle bit off I will take your arm and in a split second you will be on the ground wondering if there's an unembarassing way to say 'I Quit'. Oh, and here's a tip; The closest is the german pronunciation. 'Ich beendigte.' You'll at least be able to retain SOME amount of your dignity."
"So go ahead and treat me like dirt. Don't sweat me, I'm just 'The Minor Threat' right? Just keep telling yourself that. Just let your ego blind you to the fact that this isn't going to be a Match.....this is going to be a (BLEEP) massacre. I want you to consider yourself lucky if you can even WALK after this match. At High Stakes I'm going to accomplish what you never could. I am going to save this company."
Intensity is etched on the face of Johnny.
"By destroying you."
"Chris? I'm gonna bend you. I'm gonna break you. I'm gonna laugh."
-End-
- Johnny Maverick
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