Post by kelvinkage on Mar 30, 2009 20:25:22 GMT -5
The period following the conclusion to the gruesome LMS Match is brief, as the ring crew quickly swarms the scene, replacing the bloody ring ropes with fresh ones and scrubbing the blood stained canvas so it seems much more professional. When the ring side area seems tidy again, the clean up crew scrams, allowing Belle Blair to slowly make her way up the stairs in back into the ring, entering under the middle and bottom rope. Belle Blair begins to blush, obviously somewhat flattered by the horny male spectators around the arena howling like wolves and, or barking like dogs, as if they have lost all sanity. As she flips through her cue cards, the microphone slips through her clutches and harmless crashes to the canvas, causing a “THUD” to echo throughout the arena. Belle tucks her index cards in her pocket, before bending her back over and reaching for the microphone, allowing the arena to get a nice glance at her firm, plump buttocks, provoking the males to get much more vehement and, much more vociferous with their outcry. The dudes oblige, as they chant “DAMN” with both unison and in passion.
Belle finally lifts up after seizing the mic off the mat. She surveys the arena before hoisting the microphone to her extremely glossed, yet equally luscious lips, before speaking to the sold out arena.
Belle: “Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a Hardcore Match scheduled for one fall. The only rule of this match is that there are no rules. It doesn’t get any plainer than that.”
Almost on cue with Belle’s announcement, “All Your Boyz” by Maximum Penalty hits the P.A. system and quickly begins blaring throughout the arena. As the Hardcore Pop sound pierces the eardrums of the audience, the LDWA fans begin booing fiercely, as they are well acquainted with the scoundrel whom, for which the song plays.. As the curtains are pushed aside, a red carpet is shoved out, as it rolls on the stage before tumbling down the ramp and cutting off right at the ring. Not too far behind is the man of the hour, Magnus Gunner who emerges from the back, draped in his usual smug glow and gleaming in an arrogant aura. Magnus Gunner brandishes a lead pipe in his right hand which is both raised high in the air and is aligned with his fist. Magnus Gunner suddenly drops his arms so that they are horizontally extended out before raising his heads to the many heavens above. All three body parts drop simultaneously, leaving Magnus Gunner’s cocky grin, which is plastered on his face, the only thing left standing.
Belle: “Introducing first, hailing from ‘Motor City’ Detroit Michigan, standing at 6 foot 2 inches tipping the scales at 225 pounds. He is the “Rock Messiah”, MAGNUS GUNER!!!”
The mention of his name elicits even more hatred from the crowd as they continue to shower the winless, egomaniacal superstar with a torrent of boos which only seem to deflect off his psyche, as he remains grinning. Magnus Gunner hangs the lead pipe across his shoulder, before making an elongated stride down to the ring that awaits him and promises to condone the violence and destruction that is destined to manifest. As his feet stamp on the red carpet, his eyes beam in the spotlight, while his self-gratified demeanor continues to render the spectators nauseous.
JR: “Ladies and Gentlemen this match will be contested under hardcore rules, and when I say Hardcore, believe me, I’m not talking about Dave’s sex life.”
DS: “Johnny, I’ll have you know I bring a lot to the table in a relationship. The ladies love my experience and I can still work a…”
JR: “Please, the only woman you’ve got busy with is PALM-A-HANDERSON, and she wasn’t even half satisfied!”
DS: “Your mom has a funny name Johnny, she has a funny name!’
By now Magnus Gunner’s saunter has carried him to ringside where it comes to an abrupt end. Gunner gradually removes his shades from his face in a sophisticated fashion, before charging at the ring and sliding into it, entering the squared hell under the bottom rope. Magnus Gunner picks his weapon off the canvas, once again wielding it tightly, but only after removing his assorted colored vest, which he tosses outside the ring into the clumsy clutches of the ring assistant. As his theme tune pans out, Magnus Gunner slowly perches himself in his corner, awaiting the arrival of the debuting Irishman.
TBC by Jason Fitzpatrick
Belle finally lifts up after seizing the mic off the mat. She surveys the arena before hoisting the microphone to her extremely glossed, yet equally luscious lips, before speaking to the sold out arena.
Belle: “Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a Hardcore Match scheduled for one fall. The only rule of this match is that there are no rules. It doesn’t get any plainer than that.”
Almost on cue with Belle’s announcement, “All Your Boyz” by Maximum Penalty hits the P.A. system and quickly begins blaring throughout the arena. As the Hardcore Pop sound pierces the eardrums of the audience, the LDWA fans begin booing fiercely, as they are well acquainted with the scoundrel whom, for which the song plays.. As the curtains are pushed aside, a red carpet is shoved out, as it rolls on the stage before tumbling down the ramp and cutting off right at the ring. Not too far behind is the man of the hour, Magnus Gunner who emerges from the back, draped in his usual smug glow and gleaming in an arrogant aura. Magnus Gunner brandishes a lead pipe in his right hand which is both raised high in the air and is aligned with his fist. Magnus Gunner suddenly drops his arms so that they are horizontally extended out before raising his heads to the many heavens above. All three body parts drop simultaneously, leaving Magnus Gunner’s cocky grin, which is plastered on his face, the only thing left standing.
Belle: “Introducing first, hailing from ‘Motor City’ Detroit Michigan, standing at 6 foot 2 inches tipping the scales at 225 pounds. He is the “Rock Messiah”, MAGNUS GUNER!!!”
The mention of his name elicits even more hatred from the crowd as they continue to shower the winless, egomaniacal superstar with a torrent of boos which only seem to deflect off his psyche, as he remains grinning. Magnus Gunner hangs the lead pipe across his shoulder, before making an elongated stride down to the ring that awaits him and promises to condone the violence and destruction that is destined to manifest. As his feet stamp on the red carpet, his eyes beam in the spotlight, while his self-gratified demeanor continues to render the spectators nauseous.
JR: “Ladies and Gentlemen this match will be contested under hardcore rules, and when I say Hardcore, believe me, I’m not talking about Dave’s sex life.”
DS: “Johnny, I’ll have you know I bring a lot to the table in a relationship. The ladies love my experience and I can still work a…”
JR: “Please, the only woman you’ve got busy with is PALM-A-HANDERSON, and she wasn’t even half satisfied!”
DS: “Your mom has a funny name Johnny, she has a funny name!’
By now Magnus Gunner’s saunter has carried him to ringside where it comes to an abrupt end. Gunner gradually removes his shades from his face in a sophisticated fashion, before charging at the ring and sliding into it, entering the squared hell under the bottom rope. Magnus Gunner picks his weapon off the canvas, once again wielding it tightly, but only after removing his assorted colored vest, which he tosses outside the ring into the clumsy clutches of the ring assistant. As his theme tune pans out, Magnus Gunner slowly perches himself in his corner, awaiting the arrival of the debuting Irishman.
TBC by Jason Fitzpatrick