Rather than update the site daily, as I have done in the past, I will now only
be doing weekly updates. Likewise, the role-play wire used to be posted daily.
I am now going to combine the rp's between shows into 1 file. So, if you want
to read all rp's leading up to a particular event, you can.
WIRE INDEX: MAY 3, 1999
#1: Chris Kitching
#2: Josh Walters
#3: Rasta Farian
#4: "Hell's Angel" Jeremy Houston (who'd of thunk it? Another Jeremy
aside from Jeremy Rhodes!)
==
==
CHRIS KITCHING
(Chris is standing outside after the NACW house show signing autogrpahs
for his numerous admirers and fans, who flocked to the show to see "The
Deal" but sadly were treated with other forms of entertainment at the
show. A reporter and NACW camera crew approaches Chris, and asks for an
interview with the NACW TV champion)
Reporter: Excuse me, Mr. Kitching, but may we have a moment with you so
we can ask you some very important questions regarding next Sunday??
Chris: As you can see, guys, I am a very busy man. "The Deal" is in high
demand, not only from you guys, but from the millions...and the millions
of The Dea.... Forget it. Give me a few minutes to finish uphere will
ya?
Reporter: Yes, indeed, Chris.
(Chris continues to sign autographs and then returns to the reporter and
camera crew)
Reporter: Thank you very much, Chris, we really appreciate this.
Chris: Well, the pleasure is once again all yours, as I could really give
a rat's ass about you or your damn interviews. The way I see it, you are
taking up my very precious time, and that is something that you do not
want to do. You see, I have a very important title defense coming up in
a week's time, and I have to take my time to prepare for that night, so I
don't want to spend my nights talking to a bunch of damn annoying idiots
like you. Hell, do you know who I am!? I am the NACW TV champ, that's
right! I could easily get you guys fired with a snap of my fingers,
believe me, I can get it done.
Reporter: Sorry, this won't take a long time, honestly. We just want to
know what you have to say regarding Sunday Night Slam Masters and your TV
title defense against Rasta Farian in Austin, Texas on May 9th.
Chris: Well the fact of the matter is, I have the thing practically
wrapped up already. That is just how damn great "The Deal" really is. I
don't even have to lift a weight or run a mile to prepare for the damn
thing. I am ready, and I have always been ready. As for Rasta Farian,
then damn fool had better run for the hills if he hasn't already, because
he will feel the SPIKE. After Sunday, it is all over. He will be famous
though, guarantee that. You see, when I tear you apart, you will be
known as the third victim of "The Deal." Three is nice, but there is a
lot more to come after this one.
Reporter: Chris, you will face Obediah in four weeks, any words?
Chris: The way I see it, Obediah is in for one hell of a match. After I
knock off Rasta, I'll keep rolling on and go right through Obediah. I am
not underestimating Obediah though. When I entered the NACW I
underestimated my first opponent, but still pulled out of the match with
the win, and that is what I have planned for World Tour in Japan.
Japan..."The Deal's" second home. So you can be damn sure that I will do
everything in my power to defeat you in front of all of my admirers.
Reporter: Chris, we still haven't heard from Vanessa.
Chris: And maybe that is the way it should be. You see, Vanessa has had
a rough ride since coming into the NACW along with "The Deal." And what
she wants is just some time by herself to recover, and as I told you
losers last week, she is back in Canada, getting ready for Sunday night,
where she will accompany the hottest prospect in wrestling history to the
ring. Guys, I know I am breaking your hearts by doing this, but I have
to get the hell away from you. You make "The Deal" look like some cheap
ass jobber like Crushin Russian, and everyone knows he the best damn
thing going around here.
(Chris leaves the reporters and gets into his car and drives out of the
arena parking lot, and heads back to his hotel. The camera crew and
reporter stand around for a while, then go looking for another wrestler
to interview)
==
==
JOSH WALTERS
<
running. There are images being cast onto the wall but they are
difficult to makeout. The camera pans the room and finds Josh Walters
sitting in a chair watiching the images intently. The camera comes
closer and Walters sees it.>>
Walters: Well nice to see you found me again. I was beginning to wonder
if you knew where I was.
Cameraman: Well it did take me awhile but I caught up to you. What are
you doing?
Walters: Nothing just going over some tape of matches. Nothing big.
Cameraman: Oh, well have you seen the interview given by Coast and
Blaze?
Walters: Yes I saw their attempt at an interview. You know, they are
just two snot-nosed punks who don't know what they want out of life.
Coast is a young kid and he is letting Blaze influence him and tell him
what to do. Coast, I have been down that road and it doesn't end up in a
good place. Just a warning to you. As for Blaze I don't know too much
about you but you certainly have a mouth and an attitude. Well, I am
going to slap the attitude right out of you. When we meet in less than a
week at SNSM I will demolish you and your partner. Even though I may
have to do it by myself.
Cameraman: Have you heard anything from your partner Shaun McWhirter?
Walters: Well to be honest I have no idea where he is. It would be nice
if he shows up but I can handle myself if he doesn't. I will fight those
two punks by myself if I have to. All I want to do is prove myself to
the superstars and the commisoner. I aspire to be at the top and I have
been working my ass off. I study film, as you can see, I workout almost
everyday. But do I receive any respect, No. Why not?
Cameraman: Anyways, what about what Obediah's manager Johnathan had to
say about your battle with the Russian?
Walters: Well first off Obediah may have been able to kick out but he
couldn't kick out of the move I get hit with. Second if you have
something to say Obediah don't send your bitch-ass manager to fight your
battles. If I have to break Johnathan in half to get to your sorry ass
then I will. Finally Johnathan, if you want a piece of me it is not
beyond me to whoop your ass!
Cameraman: Well, strong word from Josh Walters.
Walters: Blaze and Coast are the starting blocks for my run to the top.
Watch out NACW and stop me if you can!!
<
watch the tape again.>>
==
==
RASTA FARIAN
(A cameraman is walking down the beaches of the gulf of Mexico until he
encounters a rather strange sight. A parrot is perched on a piece of
driftwood next to 15-20 large fish of various species. The cameraman
walks closer to see that the parrot is Ziggy, Rasta Farian's manager.
Rasta is nowhere in sight.)
Cameramon: Hey Ziggy!!!!! Where's Rasta Farian?
Ziggy: Rrrrrrrrack! Gone fishing.
Cameramon: You mean Rasta just left you here and went fishing?
Ziggy: Rrrrrrack! Well, kinda.
Cameramon: What do you mean?
(As the cameraman is asking the question, Rasta Farian emerges from the
water with a 25 pound fish in his mouth, and a 40 pound fish in one of
his hands. Rasta takes the fish out of his mouth and throws it onto the
pile of fish while still swimming in the water)
Rasta Farian: What you doin' with Ziggy, mon?
Cameramon: Just asking him some questions......You've been hard to find
lately, Rasta.
(Rasta walks out of the water and over to Ziggy. He throws the 40 pund
fish onto the pile.)
Rasta: Well, I'm here, mon. What do you want?
Camermon: Chris Kitching has been saying that you don't have the guts to
show yourself around the NACW.
Rasta: Guts????? I just got tired of hearing all of that lame ass jive
from Chris "the sink" Kitchen, mon.
Ziggy: (doing a horrible Kitchen impression) Rrrrrrrrrack! I'm the deal!
I'm so strong! People are afraid of me!! I smell so bad my wife chooses
to stay in Canada rather than spend time with me! Grrrrr! Be afraid!
I'm scary!
Rasta: OK, Ziggy, they get the point, mon. Ain't no use spending all
that time talking when you ain't got nothing to say. I'm not afraid of
any of this piddly NACW shit, mon. I'll be there, and I'm going to kick
some ass while I'm there. Now let me get back to some fishing before I
have to listen to one more of those daily affirmations with Kitchen, mon.
(Rasta jumps back into the water and disappears from sight.)
Ziggy: Rrrrrrack! You heard him! Interview's over!
(blackout)
==
==
JEREMY HOUSTON
//The screen opens up to a nice looking, everyday suburban home. As the
camera gets a close up of the home, you hear a rumbling in the
background. The next thing you know, a meteor has hit this home and the
front of this meteor reads "Compliments of Hell's Angel." The camera
then fades out and fades back in to "Hell's Angel" Jeremy Houston and his
girl, "Heavenly Helen Houston.//
"Heavenly" Helen Houston: Houston, we have a problem.
"Hell's Angel" Jeremy Houston: What is it darling? Did I miss the
driveway with that or was the family not home?
Helen Houston: No, it's not that, it's just that why did you do that?
Jeremy Houston: I truly do not know dearest, it just felt right at the
time. I have powers that of which no one has ever felt. I have been to
Heaven and Hell and I take with me now to NACW all of the power I have
gathered in both of these afterwards. God and the devil both entrusted
me with their power at some point in time. Too bad they never would have
expected me to ditch them and use this power for glory and wealth. I
took their power and I will use it to get on top of this barbaric sport
known as wrestling. You have not felt any moves like my moves. The
Crucifier, The Rocket Driver, both of which will leave you breathless and
will leave my opponents paralyzed.
Helen Houston: That's great and all precious, but why did we bother
destroying this home again?
Jeremy Houston: It was too perfect. That house was the kind of house you
find only on television, so I dealt with it. It was more perfect that my
own house and that cannot be.
Helen Houston: Indeed, now I see.
Jeremy Houston: I'm glad you do. Now, I grow tired of this interview, so
leave now you cameraman. NACW, wait until you see Hell's Angel first
hand. Trust me, you won't live through it.
//The camera fades out to the meteor once more only it now says "Bye Bye
cameraman" You hear a scream and the shot quickly goes dark.//
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
WIRE INDEX: MAY 4, 1999
#1: Shaun McWhirter
#2: Chris Kitching
#3: Brian J. Blottie
#4: Big O
#5: The Cali Connection
#6: Chris Widmayer
==
==
SHAUN McWHIRTER
lounging in the middle with his new found girlfriend Danielle sitting in
his lap. Playing through the sound system is a local alternative
station, currently playing Brittney Spears' hit "Baby one more time."
Noticing the time, Shaun quickly downs his drink and pats Danielle on the
rump, telling her to go sit on the sofa nearby. Straightening his tie,
and smoothing out his pants, Shaun clears his throat and looks towards
the screen.>
"So, it's time to make my new grand appearance. I know that my loving,
adoring fans will welcome me back, as I am starting on a career path to
gold. My loss to Billy Classon recently was my third, yet last one ever.
NO MORE LOSSES! I am on the track to win, and it starts with a tag team
match, me and Josh Walters versus the dick-sucking duo, the tit-staring
twosome, the Cali Connection. Seriously, does anyone doubt that these
guys have no skills at all? I mean, I could take 'em by myself, but
someone has to make Walters look good, eh? I guess that job falls on the
shoulders of yours truly, 'As good as it Gets' Shaun McWhirter. No, no
longer the Scottish Monster, I've reformed my image and I am now truly as
good as it gets. The only person that has the right to be as cocky as he
wants to be, as cocky as I am, is my main man, the TRUE Living Legend,
yes Brian J. Blottie himself! This kid is doing better than I did when I
joined NACW, and that's saying something, considering the beginning of my
illustrious career, eh? So, what I'm getting at, is that I am cocky,
Brian is cocky, The Flying Scotsman is crazy and so is Rhodes. Walters,
I don't know what you are, but what the hell. I gotta team up with you
to take down the losers of the Cali connection, so be it. You asked if
you could trust me, well you can trust me as far as you damn well want
to, but you have my assurance that I will not backstab you during this
match, and I will do what I can to insure that we come out on top, which
is probably going to be wrestle the whole match and knock these two
mother-lovers out cold. So, I guess the answer is yes, Walters, you can
trust me.
"MISTER GOTTSEGEN! Why was I left off of the upcoming pay-per-view?
That's the second in a row! I'm getting a little tired of this, y'know!
It gets a little old! You have a superstar like moi, yet you don't use
me in places that would benefit the damned company! That sucks! Give me
some match, please!" [The card is partial, and Pato isn't the matchmaker.
C'mon, did you think we'd have all title matches on a PPV? We have to
have some sort of undercard - JR]
not enough film. Oh well>
==
==
CHRIS KITCHING
(Chris "The Deal" Kitching is standing outside of a bar in Austin, Texas,
along with a returning Vanessa. Chris is talking with a few NACW fans
about some of the recent events that are taking place right now in the
NACW. A NACW camera man and NACW reporter approach, trying to get into
their conversation)
Reporter: Excuse me, Chris. May we have a word with you?
Chris: For god's sake. Yuo disturbed me yesterday, and now you're back
again tonight. Crussian Russian is gonna wet his pants seeing how you
don't give a fuck about him, and only care about what "The Deal" is up
to. Oh well, I don't blame you guys.
Reporter: Well, thank you very much. Earlier today, Rasta Farian finally
came out of the closet...
Chris: Um, What?
Reporter: Well, we don't think he's gay, but you know how it is with
those Jamaican men. Anyways, he finally came out of the shadows and
spoke regarding your upcoming match at Sunday Night Slam Masters. Did
you see any of it on TV?
Chris: Yeah, I saw it. And to tell you the truth, Rasta does not even
belong in the main event at Sunday Night Slam Masters. The only reason
everyone is downplaying our match as the main event is because we all
know who will come out on top in this one. Rasta should be opening up
the card wrestling against someone like Obediah. But I'll get back to
him later on. Anyways, the only reason he is in the main event against
myself is because every show he wrestles at, the NACW gets embarrassed by
the 'boring' chants directed to Farian. You come out on national
television, talking about sinks and dirty fish, well, Rasta, I will tell
you this, so clean the wax out of your ears and listen to me...When I see
you at Slam Masters on Sunday night, I will walk all over you like there
is no tomorrow. You will cry for mercy, you will cry for your little pet
bird, but "The Deal" doesn't give a damn, because the match won't be over
until I say so. I will make you say, 'you're the better man, Deal, stop
the pain.' It's just that damn simple. So when you are laying on your
back, and you hear my music, don't be ashamed about your loss to the best
damn TV champ the NACW has ever seen, oh no, you're just another one on
the list.
Reporter: After this Sunday, you have a defense against a very tough
opponent in Obedi....
Chris: Another walk in the park. Have you seen this guy? It's a joke.
First I have to face Rasta Farian, and now Obediah. My question is, when
will I at least see some competition? Thank you....
(Chris turns and begins to talk to the NACW fans once again. After about
five minutes of talking, Chris and Vanessa, who are NOT married, return
to the bar)
==
==
BRIAN J. BLOTTIE
*Scene opens on a meteor, reading "Compliments of Hell's Angel". A limo
pulls up, and out steps Brian J. Blottie, "The True Living Legend", his
jaw wide open. He is wearing sunglasses, which he pulls down off his
nose, and drops to the ground. He does NOT look very happy*
Blottie: My... my beautiful summer house. What... WHAT THE HELL! A
METEOR hit my summer house!? And WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT SIGN MEAN!
*Blottie grabs the cameraman, handing the camera to his driver, and looks
the cameraman straight into the eyes, hatred almost flowing out of
Blottie*
Blottie: What... happened... here...
*The cameraman has a look of total and utter fear on his face*
Cameraman: A... a... new guy. Jeremy... Houston. He... has... POWERS!
*Blottie tosses the cameraman aside, and turns to the camera. He looks
very pissed*
Blottie: Jeremy Houston. I don't care who you are, or WHAT you are, but
you've crossed me, which is NOT a smart thing to do. I am the next NACW
World Champion, I am "The TRUE Living Legend", and I hold a power that
even YOU will never understand. I hold the power of the almighty dollar.
You are new to this federation, so I realize that you don't understand
who I am yet. Watch this Sunday, as I will NOT disappoint my fans, and I
will make an appearance that the fans will NEVER forget. And as for you,
Houston, watch well. As what I have planned will be your future. And
your future... is NOT something to look forward to.
*Blottie turns back to what once was his house, shakes his head, and
turns back to the camera*
Blottie: It all starts this Sunday. And it continues on to World Tour
II, at which point I will tear our dear World Champion into two equal
pieces, devour one half, and feed the other half to the blood thirsty
fans. And you, Mr. Houston, will suffer the worst fate of all. You will
have to deal with me... and my "brothers".
You think that you are some kind of deity, but I will prove that you
are nothing compared to the power that I've earned in this federation...
the power of respect. People look at me and see greatness. They look at
you, and they see a new face in an already crowded arena. By accepting
the fact that you even exist, I have guarenteed you superstardom. By
defeating you, I have guarenteed you a place in the history books. The
place in which they list the many men I have overcome on my quest to
become accepted as "The True Living Legend" in the professional wrestling
community at large. The place in which they list men I've embarrassed,
destroyed, and annihilated.
*Blottie shakes his head, smirks, and looks back at his house one more
time, before continuing*
Blottie: If only you knew... if only you could fathom what you've just
done. You'd wished you had never been born. If you even HAVE been born.
You take your power, you take your prestige amongst the gods, and you
bring it into the ring. I'll make a mockery of it, and lay you out. For
good. You've crossed me. Now it's time for me to cross you... out.
Your career ends with me, just as fast as it began. Until next time...
*Blottie grabs the camera from his driver, hands it to the actual
cameraman, and climbs into the limo. The driver closes Blottie's door,
goes to the front, takes one last look at the house, and drives off. The
camera FTB*
==
==
BIG O
table by himself. He looks even more scraggly and unkept then usual.
There are several (about 4) empty beer bottles sitting on the table.
Suddenly Yukon Jack walks into the bar and begins to speak.>
Jack: I should have known that you'd be here. Come on Big O, we've got
a lot of training to do. You have a big show coming up on Sunday.
Big O: Who cares? I wrestle some dumbass bear guy, I could beat him
with my eyes closed, eh.
Jack: You haven't trained since before you lost the T.V. title. You
barely beat Mammoth at that house show. Come on, we have a lot of work
to do before you face Bi-Polar Bear on Sunday.
Big O: Ah, screw it. I crushed Mammoth, it wasn't even close. As for
losing the T.V. title, it happened for two reasons. One, you and
Runs-with-the-Pack let me down. She was unable to help me in the match
because of some little slut named Vanessa. You, couldn't train me well
enough to face that Kitching guy, and he's a joke. Second, I lost the
belt on purpose so that I could go after bigger objectives like the World
Title, or the Tag Titles. The tag division is such a joke that I could
win it right now by myself. If that Steiner guy could hold both tag
belts, so can I, eh.
Jack: (shaking his head) You're drunk or delusional, or something. You
lost that match to Kitching all by yourself, kid. It is nobodys fault
but your own that you got your ass kicked. As for bigger goals, your
lucky to still be wrestling no-namers at house shows. You're fading fast
Big O. Right now you couldn't beat Alan Soriano moose calling contest.
Big O: Yeah well, Soriano is a dick. He is the worst champion in the
NACW since Russell last held the belt. [HEY! - JR] The entire fed is
going to shit, eh. A bunch of old farts are coming out of retirement,
where Russell belongs [Why does everyone think Russell is old? He's 26!
Bryan Storm's 24! Those aren't old farts, people...Jason Deegan is 35 -
JR], and Pat Gottsegen is just a puppet commsih for that dick Soriano.
Look at this Sunday's upcoming card, biggest bunch of horse shit ever.
SNSM will probably have lower ratings then WCW's Saturday Night. Don't
even get me started about how shitty the fed is becoming, eh.
Jack: Why don't you stop complaining and start training? The only way
the fed will ever get better is if young stars with potential, like
yourself, start challenging the icons. I'm tired of your excuses. I'm
walking out that door to go back to your place, now are you coming with
me, or am I gonna have to start training Mammoth?
Big O: Fuck training, I could beat Bi-Polar Bear with my hand 'cuffed to
the ropes, don't ya know. Hell, it's hardly even worth me showing up in
Texas this weekend.
==
==
THE CALI CONNECTION
(The scene opens at the same In-N Out resturant that Alan Soriano had
been at the last time he was heard from...Only this time, the place is
packed. Its a nice day, not raining. People of all different colors,
shapes and sizes are eating various menu items. A big black man in a
Metro bus uniform sloppilly finishes a Double Double with extra cheese.
While the camera pans, an old lady sips a Lemonade...Then, the song "
Plowed" by Sponge is heard blasting out of a souped up Mustang that
screeches into the parking lot, almost hitting a family of four..As they
park, the father of the family, who is a fairly large man, goes up to the
Mustang to confront the person or persons who nearly killed him..)
Man: WHAT THE HELL MAN! YOU NEARLY KILLED MY WIFE AND MY...
(The response to this man is one fairly large arm thrust out of the
window, and one erect middle finger. The man grabs the arm, but his head
is rammed into the door of the Mustang. The mans body slumps over and
being hit over and over with the car door as the man in the Mustang tries
to get out, repeatly slamming the man in his already hurt head..The wife
of the man and her two children stare in fear as the man finally stumbles
to his feet and runs away..The man that steps out of the car is one half
of the future tag team champions and one of the men who FUBAR'ed Alan
Soriano, Johnny Blaze..Out of the passenger side, Johnny Coast steps out
and puts on his shades. They walk up to the walk up counter, knoocking
over an old lady in the process and cutting in the line...Blaze tries to
order...)
Wendy: Hi, welcome to In N Out..
Blaze: Cut the formalities, FLO, and get my pal and I some food here..
Wendy: Um..Okay...What do you..
Blaze: Ill tell you what I want when I am damn good and ready! Bitch!
(Blaze sits there and takes a while...People in the line get
impatient..Finally, after five minutes, he says something..)
Blaze: I want some..Water..
Coast:Yeah, make that two..
Wendy:(Shocked look) Water? You cut in front of the line and disrespected
ME for water?
Blaze: Yeah bitch, now wheres our Aqua? [Why is that capatalized? Are
you a "Barbie Girl"? - JR]
(With a smug look, Blaze and Coast get their free cups of water and walk
oevr while getting dirty looks to a table..)
Blaze: Hey, FUCK YOU OLD MAN!
Coast: Yeah, and fuck you you fat ass bitch! Not like you need anymore
beef on that beefalo ass of yours..Oh, look who it is..
(Looking into the camera)
Coast: Mister NACW cameraman...Bitch of the year..Mother fucker..Damn, my
back hurts..your mom was great..She rode me so fucking hard last night..
Cameraman: My Mom is dead, ASSHOLE!
(Coast stands up..Face all up in the camera..)
Coast: YOU THINK I CARE? YEAH, SHE DIED..CUZ I FUCKED HER SO HARD!
Blaze: Easy John...
Coast: (Sitting down) Allright..Only thing on my mind right now is that
tag team match with those two faggots McWHirter and Walters..
Blaze: First off, McWhirter. You Scottish faggot. Why do Scotsman wear
kilts, laddy? Cuz SHeep can hear a zipper a mile away! Goes for that
Frying Scotsfag too. Livestock molesting mother fuckers. Well, the only
molesting thats gonna be going on is in the ring, and not the perverted
shit that Dan Mazin does in his spare time, either. The kind where you
are gonna be hurting for a long time!
Coast: Like that shithead of a champion you have, Alan Soriano. Poor
baby..He has bad ribs..Awwwwww..McWhirter and Coast are gonna be even
more fucked up after messin with us..Thats for damn sure!
Blaze: You know what? This palce blows ass...
(Two teenage girls start to giggle at another table...)
Blaze: Hey, camerafag, get lost, we are gonna get some pussy! Walters,
McWHirter, you cant win against the Connection.
(FTB with the two men walking up and putting their hands on the girls
asses. The girls, as do many teenage girls in Cali, dont seem to mind the
older mens hands on their rears..)
==
==
CHRIS WIDMAYER
[The scene opens up in downtown New Orleans, a limo comes pulling up to a
ran down basketball court where about 10 kids are playing. The limo
stops and the driver walks around and opens up the door. Out from the
limo comes NACW Star "Crazy" Chris Widmayer wearing a pair of jeans, a
shirt that says NBJ and a the NACW Light-Heavyweight Title strapped
around his waist. He is instantly rushed by a slew of camera crews that
where following the limo]
Reporter: Chris where have you been in the past week?
Reporter: Why the media avoidance?
Reporter: Sir....
Chris Widmayer(pushing the crowd away): Shut up and get away. I am
conducting business....Oh yeah go look for Voo and tell his yellow belly
ass to contact me..
[Chris unstraps his title and throws it into the middle of the court as
one of the guys trips over it. He stands up in Chris's face and whipes
the blood of his elbow onto Chris's face]
Player(holding Chris's shirt): You's gots a problem wif me foo?
Chris Widmayer(grabbing his belt): Sorry man needed to get your
attention.
[Another guy runs over and pulls the two apart as he whispers in the
players ear]
Player: You...You...You dat Crazy Chris Widmayer guy ain`t ya?
Chris Widmayer(throwing the title over his shoulder): Yeah I just wanted
to get me some insight on the Ghetto style and lifehood. Ya know this
Sunday we got these two guys, The Ghetto Boyz where fighting....
Player(laughs): Man no body from da hood would ever step into the ring.
Rules are for foo's like you. You step in da ring wif the Gangsta's and
you done gonna get capped!
[Chris hands his belt to the driver, laughs, and turns around meeting the
player with a clothesline slamming his head onto the concrete as a puddle
of blood appears. A few people check him out as one guy gets on a cell
phone and calls the cops]
Chris Widmayer: First, Never tell me I am gonna lose. This is kinda
funny tho because like now I am going to jail and I can call myself a
Ghetto Superstar or whatever the word on the street is.
[Three squad cars come flying up as Chris grabs his Light-Heavyweight
Title and walks towards the squad cars. Four officers come out two go
and check out the fallen ghetto banger and the other two come over and
begin to cuff Chris.