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Wire Index...
#1: "Superstar" Shawn Coats
#2: Brian J. Blottie
#3: Mark McCalous
#4: Insane Wayne
#5: The Flying Scotsman
#6: Red Leaf
#7: The Revenger and Blood Boy
==
==
SHAWN COATS
((The scene opens. It is a scene of tranquility. It is an office in
Charlottesville, Virginia, which is the locaiton of NACW Headquarters.
We are in the main office on the eleventh floor, which is Shawn Coats'
office. The room is decorated with wrestling posters, title belts,
trophies, and various accoutrements. The desk has several contracts on
it, along with other papers, and about six notes from his secretary that
state that several wrestlers want contracts with the federation. Seated
in the executive chair is the one and only Shawn Coats, dressed in a NACW
t-shirt and blue jeans, playing a game of Tetris DX on his Game Boy
Color. Coats is relaxing after an extremely long day. Coats notices the
camera, turns off the portable console, and gets into his
character..."Superstar" Shawn Coats))
"Superstar" Shawn Coats: You know, I find it funny. I find it absolutely
funny. I announce that I'm coming out of retirement for one tournament,
and suddenly, I'm a fool. I'm an asshole with nothing to prove, other
than trying to hold the younger guys down while I try to get one more
shot in. It's really funny. These people are the type of people who
will get in my face and say that I'm too old to compete in the NACW...
And I'm only 28.
((Coats reaches for a nearby coffee cup, taking a sip))
Coats: Oddly enough, that message came from the man who was hospitalized
last night, the beloved Justin Russell. Yeah, everyone says how great
the man is, but I remember when he was a heel, teaming up with Jermaine
Hester and beating the living piss out of everyone. Yeah, all of you
hate him then, didn't you? All of you didn't respect him then, didn't
you? All of you thought he was this big asshole with a chip on his
shoulder. I look at the Roleplay Wire that was just sent out, and what
do I see? Support on all behalves for Justin Russell. Ooh, the guy gets
injured, and all of a sudden, he's this big hero.
((Coats takes another sip from his coffee cup))
Coats: And what's even funnier than that is what Alan Soriano said. Said
that the only reason Russell was injured was because there was a faulty
ring. Hell, you can blame Justin Russell for having such damn big feet
for getting hurt. Jusitn Russell wears a size 22 boot, which means that
his feet are about 22 inches, give or take a couple. Now, the space
between our turnbuckles is 18 inches. Russell stood with his heel on the
hook, so, of course his foot was going to get caught. It's a sad thing
that happened, but if he moved his foot so that the arch of his foot was
on the turnbuckle hook, then he wouldn't have hurt himself.
((Coats takes yet another sip from his coffee, and then stands up to get
another))
Coats: Oh, and Soriano, don't blame me for you not being able to get a
title shot. You were so confident that Justin Russell was going to walk
out of the ring as the World Champion, that you signed a contract to
fight him at Slam Masters on the 21st for the title. If he didn't win
the belt, you didn't get the shot. You should have read the contract
before you signed. Now, instead of getting all pissy at me, maybe you
should be upset with yourself. After all, you were stupid enough to sign
that contract. You should have had the contract say that you would face
the NACW World Champion on March 21, but you didn't. And to be honest,
you didn't deserve a title shot on March 21. I would have liked to give
the shot to the guy who walked out of the U.S. title match without the
belt the shot. However, Shaun McWhirter ran into my office and insisted
that he fight Brian J. Blottie and The Flying Scotsman in a three-way
match on March 21, so, he shot himself in the foot. If Wayne had lost
the belt, well, then he would have fought the champion on March 28.
However, that didn't happen. Alan, trust me, I want to see Classon lose
his title, because Justin Russell is my cousin, and I hate seeing things
like that happening to my family, and I would have loved to give you the
shot, but things just didn't turn out that way. I can't make a ruling on
this, because you made a stupid decision. Don't run around, calling me
corrupted or a dictator because you can't put two brain cells together
and read a fucking contract before you sign it!
((Coats returns to his seat, and fishes around in one of his drawers))
Coats: Now, where did I put that thing? Hmm...oh, there it is!
((Coats then reaches into the drawer, and pulls out the Hardcore title.
Coats places it right on his desk, and begins to speak))
Coats: This little tournament coming up, it should be good, huh? Eight
of the toughest men in the sport all gunning for this title. Now, for
your enjoyment, a rundown of my opinions of the other seven competitors.
Of course, I could announce the bracket now, but I don't want to.
-Jeremy Rhodes. The guy has been one of my best friends for years.
Several folks have said he's my flunky, my right-hand man, but that sure
as hell ain't true. I don't need flunkies, and I don't need right-hand
men, and even if I did, I would never hire a crazy retard like Rhodes to
be that man.
-The Flying Scotsman. I like what I see from this guy. If he wasn't
nuts, I might say he's the future of this company, but in my opinion,
that's Brian J. Blottie. Scotsman is a favorite, sure, and he's a guy to
watch out for, but if you can find a weakness, he's as good as done.
-Lost Metal. He's a good kid. He's got a lot of learning, and I'll be
willing to teach him, and if that means I have to drive my fists into his
face, then so be it.
-Ban X. If I had one guy to be scared of in this match, it'd be him. A
lot of people say he's not really a threat, but I'll say that they're
wrong. He's got the potential to be the next Shawn Coats, and that's
quite the compliment. If I wasn't in this tournament, I'd be banking my
money on him.
-Insane Wayne. He's a crazy, dangerous son of a bitch. Not as crazy as
Scotsman, and not as dangerous as Rhodes, but, pound-for-pound, he may be
better than both of them. You never know.
-Dave Bean. If anything, he's a dark horse in this tournament. He
hasn't proven himself, so he will be taken quite lightly. He could shock
the world.
-Big O. If Big O wasn't talented, then perhaps I would have fired him by
now. All he's got to him is his wrestling skills and the childish names
he gives people. Call me crazy, but I fired a guy from the GWC for
coming up with some stupid nicknames for people, and his name is Guapo
Miguel. Since then, Guapo's been turned from a 6'2", 210-pounder to a
6'2", 300-pound lardass, all because he didn't have a goal to work for.
Big O is the reason I came out of retirement, to shut his idiotic mouth.
Ooh, calling Brian J. Blottie "Lottie-Dottie." That must have come
straight out of my son's fucking preschool class. Dave "Lima" Bean.
That's really mature, buddy. Oh, and the one he has for me is
classic..."Semistar" Shawn Pants. If I wasn't a dignified man, I would
have been insulted by that comment, and I would have fired you on the
spot. Instead, I'll wait until I get you in the ring, where I'm not a
dignified man, and...I'LL RIP YOUR GOD DAMNED HEAD FROM YOUR FUCKED-UP
CANADIAN BODY!
Coats: Now, remember...this is my title. I might win the tournament, and
I might not. However, this is my title. I paid for it, and the winner
of this tournament is damn well gonna respect it, or I'm gonna make them
respect it. And the winner of this tournament is damn sure going to
respect me, or I'm gonna make them respect me.
((Coats takes a sip from his coffee))
Coats: Oh, and there's something that's been bothering me lately. This
"Crushin' Russian" dude, Igor what's-his-name. Yeah, I bought his
contract, because he's a damn fine wrestler, and he's made a fine
addition to the NACW. However, this little idea about American
wrestlers, about how the only way they can get over is by sucking my
dick. Yeah, sure. If that was true, then I'd be in women's wrestling.
Hey, buddy, the Cold War is over, so lose the gimmick from the '80's. If
you come down to the ring carrying a Soviet flag and singing "Oh Mother
Russia" like Nikolai Volkoff, then I might just have to do a little
restructure work with you, and I mean a serious angle change. Now, you
can say that I'm wasting your time by matching you up with Mark McCalous,
and I'll admit it, I am. But hey, nobody gets a free ride to the top of
the NACW, you hear me? Nobody. It doesn't matter if they are from
America, Russia, South Africa, Canada, Uganda, or from the fucking North
Pole. You've gotta prove yourself if you want to be on top of this
federation.
((Coats takes another sip))
Coats: Now, if you'll excuse me, the clock on the wall says six o'clock,
and that means I've been here for ten hours. I'm heading home, and I'd
suggest you do the same.
((Coats stands up, grabs his jacket and hat, and then walks out of his
office door. Fade to black))
==
BACK TO TOP
==
BRIAN J. BLOTTIE
*The scene opens in NACW's studio, with Ross Howard sitting in a chair,
facing "The True Living Legend" Brian J. Blottie. Howard is wearing his
normal suit and tie, whereas Blottie wears a pair of black slacks, and
the new "Flying Scotsman" t-shirt. Blottie and Howard are talking, as
the lights get brighter, and Howard turns to the camera*
Howard: Ladies and gentlemen, we at the NACW bring to you this special
interview session with the winner of Ultimate Jeopardy's Rookie Rumble,
and the newly announced number two contender to the World Heavyweight
Title, "The True Living Legend" Brian J. Blottie. Thank you for being
here with us, Mr. Blottie.
*Camera cuts to Blottie, who is smiling from ear to ear. The smile seems
forced, though*
Blottie: It's my pleasure.
Howard: Now to get on with the interview. First of all, let me be the
first to congradulate you on your winning of the Rookie Rumble...
Blottie: Actually, Shawn Coats was the first person to truly congradulate
me, when he deemed me the number two contender to the World Title.
Howard: Speaking of that, amongst other things, several of the athletes,
men like Big O, Josh Walters, and The Crushin' Russian, believe that you
not only don't deserve the number two contendership, but that you took
"shortcuts" in winning the Rumble itself. What do you have to say to
these men?
Blottie: They bring up a valid point... for idiots. You see, jealousy
seems to run rampant throughout this fed, and I think that is being shown
in the way these men are reacting. As for the Crushin' Russian, who
wasn't even in the Rumble, I think his reaction is based purely on the
need to get over fast and easy with the fans. What better way then to
attack the character of the number two contender?
I admit, I won the Rookie Rumble by pushing men out from behind. You
know what that's called? Smart wrestling. This wasn't a one on one
wrestling match. If it was, I would have approached it differently.
This was a battle royal, where the goal is to throw your opponents over
the top. And that's what I did. So I did it from behind. Does it make
me any less of a winner? Hell no. The record books are going to read
"Blottie wins Rookie Rumble at Ultimate Jeopardy II" one way or the
other. If these men, however jealous they may be, have a problem with
that, they can kiss my ass.
Howard: And about your being ranked number two?
Blottie: *Snickers* That was because Coats recognizes talent when he sees
it. He saw the way I handled myself in the ring, and he saw the way I
dominated "Intensity" Josh Walters for the first six minutes of the
Rumble. He saw me dominate and defeat Sir-Smokes-A-Lot and Jack "Shot
Glass" Daniels in less than four minutes in matches prior to the Rumble.
And he saw that I was EXACTLY what I said I was. A legend, plain and
simply put.
Howard: Those are big words. You'll get to prove them this Sunday when
you take on two tough opponents in The Flying Scotsman and "The Scottish
Monster" Shaun McWhirter. What is your general analysis of this upcoming
match?
*Blottie shifts a little, and then shows some discomfort. He touches his
forehead and winces a bit, then relaxes a little*
Blottie: I know that this is going back on what I've said previously, but
I DO respect The Flying Scotsman. He took me out but good. I was
running on the adrenaline the Rumble had built up in me, and I said some
things that maybe I shouldn't have. So I am now, in front of the NACW
audience and, hopefully, to The Scotsman himself, apologizing for my
actions towards the Flying Scotsman. I expect a great match this Sunday,
and I expect a great friendship to bloom between the two of us.
Still, the thing that gets to me is that "The Scottish Monster" had
the audacity to call The Scotsman a "retard". I mean, the Scotsman is an
incredible athlete, with no flaws, whereas McWhirter is a... well... a
jobber. I hope this Sunday that The Flying Scotsman takes out that
overblown puff of smoke and then we can have a clean, civil match between
me and The Scotman. And Mr. Fisto would still LOVE to meet you, Flying
Scotsman.
Howard: Huh? McWhirter never said...
Blottie: Shut up, Ross. I'm not done yet. To those of you that think
I'm weak and have been constantly challenging me, have been QUESTIONING
the viablity of my claim on the legendary status I so RIGHTLY deserve, I
think you need to sit back, think awhile, and judge the intelligence in
asking for a match with "The TRUE Living Legend". I mean, yeah, you'll
have a chance. But that chance won't amount to jack or squat when it
comes down to who is the smarter man in the ring. You can sit and talk
about how tough and how brutal a wrestler you are, but it's ring savvy
that won Billy Classon his title, and it's going to be ring savvy that
will lead me to the number one contendership.
Big O, I'm not going to Bumfuck, ANYWHERE to face you, because I only
accept straight out matches, not gimmicks. I don't take bumps unless I
WANT to take bumps. And as for your threat, go ahead and run in this
Sunday. I'm sure me and my new found "friend" The Flying Scotsman will
have a great time kicking you from pillar to post. And that goes to
anyone else wanting a piece of me. Bring it, don't sing it.
Howard: Ummm... last question. The Hardcore Title Tourny has been
announced, with your name not on the list of wrestlers competing. How do
you feel about that?
*Blottie smirks, and cracks his neck*
Blottie: I feel GREAT! I'm the number two contender to the World Title.
Why would I need a Hardcore Title? I'm not a hardcore wrestler, first of
all. I left that style of fighting when I moved out of Detroit. Second
of all, I'm not a big fan of bleeding all over the canvas. I'm a
skilled, intelligent ring strategist. Hardcore and gimmick matches just
detract from those skills. So, in other words, the NACW can KEEP their
Hardcore Title.
Howard: Thank you, Mr. Blottie, for taking time out of your busy schedule
to talk with us. I wish you only... hell, I'm not gonna lie. I hope you
get the snot kicked out of you.
*Howard gets up, visibly disgusted. Blottie calls out to Howard*
Blottie: If you're disgusted with me now, just wait. The best is soon to
come!
*Blottie turns to the camera*
Blottie: Well, I guess this interview is over. Until next time...
*The camera pans out, as Blottie begins to chuckle to himself. The
lights fade, along with the camera, to black*
==
BACK TO TOP
==
MARK McCALOUS
Reporters are waiting outside Mark McCalous's house, wanting a few
minutes of his time when Mark gets home for a session at the local health
and fitness spa.
"Mr. McCalous we need to have a few words with you."
Mark stopps and waits without saying anything.
"Mr. McCalous, you recentaly joined a new wrestling fed. Do they know
that your credentials? And have you heard what that dumb Russian was
saying about you?"
Mark smiles. "No I haven't told anyone that i am a former TWD world
champ, a TWD hardcore champ, and EIWL world champ or and EHA U.S. champ.
I didn't feel that it was all that important as this is the NACW and a
far better federation. Now as far as the...what did he call himself? The
Crushin' Russian? Look he fat boy, I have wrestled much stronger
pitfighters then you and I have won my fair share of matchs. But nobody
and I mean no body will ever look as great as this."
Right after saying that Mark's Valet steps into the picture and smiles
and says..."Alright Mark show them the guns."
Matk takes off his shirt and begins a pose down as the reporters ooh and
aah over the greatest body in the world.
==
BACK TO TOP
==
INSANE WAYNE
((Scene)) Camera opens up to the Meadowood Hospital, A Place For People
With Special Needs. It is night time, and most patients are fast asleep,
dreaming dreams people with special needs dream. But one special person
is not sleeping. He is sitting on his bed. Yes, it is eveyone's favorite,
Insane Wayne. Wayne has a bandage wrapped around his head. Laying on the
floor is the NACW United States Championship. On his lap is the Little
Doll.
Insane Wayne - Why won't you talk to me anymore? What happened to you?
Please
little doll, say something.
((Wayne looks at the doll.))
Insane Wayne - What did they do to you? How come you won't say anything?
Why?
WHY?!?!?!
((Wayne picks the little doll up and looks at it))
Insane Wayne - Talk to me please.
(( Wayne grabs his head ))
Insane Wayne - My head hurts. Maybe that is why he won't say anything. I
think I can fix that.
((Wayne gets up, runs and smashes his head into the wall))
Insane Wayne - There, that should do it. How you doing little doll? I
said, how are you doing? AHHHHH!!!!
((Wayne starts banging his head against the wall))
Insane Wayne - Hey jackass, stop it. Little Doll? This isn't
that damn doll. No, it can't be. But it is. But the doctors
took you all away. They did, but when you hit your head, we came
back. Yeah, yeah, yeah, we came back. What happened to the little
doll. He's still here, but he doesn't want to come out. Why?
Because he doesn't want to. But I want to talk to him. He needs to
train me for my Crimson Rain match. That's why we are here. Yeah,
yeah, yeah, we gonna train you. But I want the doll. STOP WORRYING
ABOUT THAT DAMN DOLL YOU PUSSY!!
((Wayne bangs his head even harder against the wall))
Insane Wayne - NO! I WANT THE DOLL!! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!!!!
(( Wayne bangs his head harder, finally his head goes through the wall ))
Insane Wayne - Your training has begun. Yeah, yeah, yeah, training
has begun.
((Wayne pulls his head out, and drywall dust is covering his head))
Insane Wayne - I TOLD YOU TO GET OUT!!!
(( Wayne runs, and jumps through the window. Thankfully, the doctors
moved him to the first floor. Wayne lays on the ground, amongst broken
glass. A piece of glass is stuck in his head, blood starting to trickle
down to his lip. Wayne is laying there looking at the sky))
Insane Wayne - Blood. The Little Doll liked blood. GODZOOKS!! I FIGURED
IT OUT! I know how to get the doll back. Shit, he figured it out.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, he's to smart for us. Blood will bring the little
doll back to life. Hehehehehe. Jeremy Rhodes blood will bring the Doll
back. HEHEHEHEHE!! Crimson Rain will bring the DOLL BACK!! HEHEHEHEHE!!!
I NOW KNOW WHAT I MUST DO. I MUST GET BLOOD!!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!!
(( Insane Wayne jumps up, runs around in circles. Falls to the ground,
rolls around in the glass. Jumps back up, jumps through the broken
window, lays down and goes to sleep ))
==
BACK TO TOP
==
THE FLYING SCOTSMAN
[The camera opens, and Scotsman is sitting there, smoking a cigar,
sitting like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct. His kilt leaves nothing to
the imagination.]
Scotsman: "Got a problem with me?"
"Don't worry. Everyone does. Its natural."
[Scotsman starts scratching his private area..then rubs it..then
remembers the camera]
*cough*
"Uh...just testing to make sure it was still there!"
"I like these new interview rooms."
"See...Shawn Coats suggested it. He said the public would be more safe."
[Scotsman gets up and runs into one of the padded walls. The camera
spans the room, showing that he is in a padded cell.]
"Awesome! Bang!"
[Scotsman kicks the floor]
"Blottie. Spotty Blottie! Squatty Blottie! Cryin Brian! Hey theres
your new name! Cryin Brian J. Gay Spotty Blottie!"
"Thats a mouthful...like my..."
[Scotsman looks down at his private area, and giggles]
"Anyway Spotty Blottie...thats just my nickname for you. I give all my
friends nicknames. I'm so glad that you're up for being my friend."
"I would like to be Mr Fisto's friend. I also have a friend for him."
[Scotsman puts his hand down to his private area, and the camera blurs
it]
"Meet Mr Testicle! Now Mr Testicle is a naughty boy. He likes to swear.
I hope he isn't a bad influence on Mr Fisto. That would not be nice."
"Crushin Russian. I know you want to make an alliance with all the
foreigners. Don't try to hide it. I could see it in your buttocks. The
way they shaked when you spoke...wait, maybe that was Barbara
Streisand...but why would SHE want to make an alliance in the NACW? It
doesn't make any sense."
"Anyway, theres a thing called a three way match coming up soon. This
Sunday as a matter of fact. They call it triple threat, but I don't
understand that. We aren't going to be threatening each other. We are
going to be beating each other up."
"So I order this be renamed 'Three Friends Beating Each Other Up Match'."
"Yes, I said THREE friends! Shaun, Mr McWhirter, I consider you a
SPECIAL friend!"
"Now I have to go feed the cats. But I will leave you with these
words...."
"A carrot is more orange than an orange. So why don't we call a carrot
an orange?"
"Thats my motto from now on."
[Scotsman goes off, shouting "here kitty kitty" around the room]
==
BACK TO TOP
==
RED LEAF
(Scene opens with just Red Leaf, alone in a room... He has a cage of rats
beside him.)
Red Leaf: Red Leaf think Dan Mazin right. Red Leaf think he should go to
a mental hos-tal. Red Leaf not crazy though. Red Leaf can't wait. Red
Leaf love rubber rooms. Red Leaf love them because they have rats. Red
Leaf love rats.
(He releases the rats and the scurry off into a hole in the wall.)
Red Leaf: Red Leaf like petting rats, like catching them, like kissing
them and Red Leaf like feeding them chocolate because Red Leaf love
chocolate.
(The camera changes angle.)
Red Leaf: Red Leaf don't care. Red Leaf can't wait for Sunday Night. Red
Leaf like Sunday Nights. Red Leaf love Sunday Nights. Red Leaf can't wait
to show why Red Leaf should be put in a mental in-tute. Red Leaf show
Maniac first hand. Red Leaf show the NACW, Red Leaf show the world,
come Sunday. Red Leaf just want you to wait till then.
(Scene fades to black....)
==
BACK TO TOP
==
THE REVENGER AND BLOOD BOY
(Scene opens with footage where the Revenger and Blood Boy (two thirds of
the Rebels) are in London, England.)
The Revenger: Yes, my hometown. Ten times better than Glasgow. Whoops,
that slipped.
Blood Boy: Why did it slip?
The Revenger: Well the Scottish people in the NACW, Scotsman and that
other dude.
Blood Boy: Ha.
The Revenger: Yeah. Hey, where Red Leaf?
Blood Boy: He said he was going to his special place.
The Revenger: That must be it then.
(A Taxi stops.)
Taxi Driver: Did you call a Taxi?
Blood Boy: Yeah.
Taxi Driver: Hop in. What's with the mask?
The Revenger: Come out here for a second.
(The guy comes out of his car.)
Blood Boy: First, what the hell were you doing on the wrong side of the
road?
Taxi Driver: What? You must be an American....
The Revenger: Hmmmmm.....
Blood Boy: Wrong. I ain't no American.... eh?
(The Revenger scoops his head from behind and Sweet Revenges him onto the
car.)
The Revenger: Man, the biggest dent yet.
Blood Boy: Hahaha....
(The Taxi Driver holds his head. Blood Boy goes to the top of the taxi
car and Bloodsquirts him.)
The Revenger: How in the bloody hell do you do that?
Blood Boy: It's called a Cancun Tornado, I renamed it the Bloodsquirt.
The Revenger: But you were only so far and only so high....
Blood Boy: Well I'm small enough that it don't matter.
The Revenger: Oh yeah. Revenge is so bitterly sweet...
(Scene fades to black...)
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