Worker Bee
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Belladonna and Gothica's Manager
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Post by Hellion on Feb 11, 2021 4:10:24 GMT -5
LOCATION &a ARENA Humboldt Island Isle Arena
ROLEPLAY & SEGMENT DEADLINES Friday, February 19th, 2021 at 9 PM PST, Midnight EST, 11 PM CT (US) Saturday, February 20th, 2021 at 5 AM (UK) Saturday, February 20th, 2021 at 4 PM (AUS)
ROLEPLAY LIMIT ONE 1,000 word piece or TWO 500 word pieces
SEGMENTS Reward: 1 bonus point added to your total rp score. Must be RSVPed by the RP deadline and submitted by Sunday Midnight CT (US), either in standard results code or plain script style. Open to Anyone!
Match Two: GRIMM versus Jetstream versus Dark Tiger
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Post by the x-stream jetstream on Feb 18, 2021 13:13:49 GMT -5
02/9/21 - Journal #5, Month 2, Day 9
I read something about WWH, specifically Isle, the other day, which I found rather interesting. They consider it a “B” show; that is, they don’t hold it in the highest regard like they do with their flagships, Dystopia and Sanatorium. It’s actually ironic. My whole career was always “B” show level, or at least that’s what I was always told by “ higher ups.” Fuck em. Any show I’m on will always be “THE” show to watch. My flight leaves in a few days to head down to Humboldt Island, and a part of me is...excited, I guess? The card was announced not too long ago, and I have some tough competition...who am I kidding, I’ve never heard of these guys. You obviously have to respect them, because at the end of the day, they’re doing what I always struggled to do: follow the system. Unfortunately for them, I’m tired of being told what to do by the system. I’m tired of being relegated to the “B” show when in reality, I should have my title shot I never got. However...I’m willing to play their game for now. Hell, I may even send a message to Dystopia, keep them on their toes. But for now, I only have a few things to do today: Facetime my daughter, who is so big now. It’s crazy how time flies. Try and call whatever friends I have to see if they’ll house sit for me. And pack. I plan on packing light, because to be honest, I don’t see myself taking residence there for long.
There are approximately 13 wrestlers on the Isle Roster
These are the problems of just one of them.
We fade into a scene, where Jetstream is seen standing in front of a barn. He has his thumbs in his belt loops, no belt. Long sleeve collared shirt tucked in. He is staring blankly into the camera and begins to speak.
[JETSTREAM] You’re talking smack about your opponents with yer pals the other daaaay.
We cut to a house, seeing Jetstream holding a cup full of spitting tobacco, a man called Kerry, wearing a work jumpsuit, half of it taken off and tied around his waist, and "Squirrelly" Bob, a mountain of a man wearing overalls, sitting on a porch outside of the house.
[“Squirrelly” Bob] Ya know, one time, I saw a guy on the televisions getting power slammed through a table, there. That’s what ya oughta do there, Jet.
[JETSTREAM] Well, I don’t know, there, Bob. It’s only my first match and I don’t want to come across as the guy who just power slams guys through tables. Now I’d definitely be okay with being the guy that gives a chair shot or two to the guys I’m fightin’. Now that’d be pretty punk rock.
[Kerry] Yeah, I mean ya know, those chairs aren’t gimmicked. A chair shot is a chair shot. You can’t really fake a chair shot. Unless they add in sound in post, but who would go to that extent?
[JETSTREAM] Agreed.
[“Squirrelly” Bob] Uh huh.
Kerry spits out over the porch, and Kerry continues
[Kerry] Well, now Jet I did want to ask you something about yer match coming up.
[JETSTREAM] Hard no.
[Kerry] Well, come on now, Jet. We’re all friends here. Talk smack.
[JETSTREAM] It’s impolite to talk smack about people that aren’t around.
[“Squirrelly” Bob] Well this one time, I was talkings the smack about a fella, then he showed up and popped me right in the mouth big time. Then he gave me a quick hard kick in the testicles.
[Kerry] Yeah, but at least it wasn’t in your seminal vesicles.
[JETSTREAM] You mean the Florida State Seminal Vesicles?
No one laughs as “Squirrelly” Bob continues.
[“Squirrelly” Bob] Yeah, it at least wasn't in the seminal vesicles, or in my vas deferens either.
Silence.
[JETSTREAM] Ya know, I thought it was pretty funny that I said “Florida State Seminal Vesicles” and nobody laughed.
Silence again.
[JETSTREAM] Well pitter patter, Kerry go ahead and ask.
[Kerry] As far as your match with GRIMM and Dark Tiger, what are ya gonna do? Like it’s your standard three way dance.
[“Squirrelly” Bob] An Unholy Trinity
[Kerry] A triple threat match
[“Squirrelly” Bob] A terrifying trifecta.
[JETSTREAM] I get it.
Jetstream flings his spitoon away from the group.
[JETSTREAM] Ya know...even though it’s been a while since I’ve had a match, I do realize that the challenge is in front of me. I mean, GRIMM had a hell of a victory against Dr. Killjoy, and I don’t even know who the fuck Dark Tiger is.
[Kerry] Are there still dark tigers in the wild? Is that a thing?
[“Squirrelly” Bob] I think you’re thinking of that panther in The Jungle Book.
[Kerry] Ah, you mean Bagheera?
[JETSTREAM] Doesn’t matter. Either way, those men haven’t quite ever met the likes of me before. I’m the toughest son of a bitch on the island, now. And they’re going to be keen on finding out really quick that I don’t fuck around with school yard bullshit. Come Isle, I’m going to kick their fucking asses
[Kerry] I don’t think any kind of shit you should fuck around with. Cause ya know...that’d get real smelly if you’re not careful.
[JETSTREAM] I wish you weren’t so fucking awkward bud.
We then cut back to Jetstream, now standing in front of the barn alone again.
[JETSTREAM] It’s a hard life kicking ass and taking names, but come the showtime, GRIMM and Dark Tiger are gonna know that The Man is back, and he’s coming to take his crown. The unfortunate part is that they’re going to have to be the first ones to go down. At least they have their place in history. They’ll be first, not last. Come Isle, like I said The Man is coming around. And I have debts to collect on.
End
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Post by GRIMM on Feb 23, 2021 16:15:15 GMT -5
The camera opens on the empty and now-reserved beach chair that GRIMM has favored since joining the Isle roster. He lumbers in from the right, clad in jeans and a white undershirt with a bucket full of beer and ice in hand, determined to enjoy the quiet before he notices the camera. The grizzled veteran heaves a long-suffering sigh.
“That fuckin’ time again, is it?”
A voice from off screen gives him an affirmative answer.
“Who the fuck am I facin’ now? Anyone remember?”
GRIMM pointedly stares at the crew until one of the assistants comes sprinting across the sand to his side. The young man holds up an iPad with information for the taller to look over. He grumbles to himself, setting the bucket down to pull a pair of reading glasses from the front pocket of his jeans.
“Fuck, hate gettin’ old.”
The assistant tries to bite back a giggle as the veteran fumbles to put the glasses on and focus on the screen.
“Yeah yeah, laugh it up, shrimp. Gonna happen to you too eventually. Least my dick still works without them blue pills.”
GRIMM reads the information offered, scrolling up once or twice to finish. He grunts and waves the assistant off before reaching for one of the ice cold beers. The older man pops the tab on the beer can, bringing it to his lips and draining the contents. It gets tossed onto the sand beside the chair before GRIMM decides to just sit down and take the reading glasses off.
“All right, fuck it. I got a three way this week and it ain’t near as fun as the one last weekend with Gracie and her friend.”
He chuckles to himself, pulling a fresh can out of the bucket and shaking off the condensation.
“This promo shit is cuttin’ into my drinkin’ and relaxation time. Days like today I miss havin’ that fat fuck as a manager to do all the talkin’ for me. Anyway--I got some bitch with a shitty goatee named Jetstream and an old fuck named Dark Tiger. Christ, you’re fuckin’ seven feet tall and barely pushin’ three hundred pounds? You are a fuckin’ beanpole. I bet them joints ain’t what they used to be. Mine sure as fuck ain’t but I at least got enough muscle to protect ‘em.
I don’t get the whole fuckin’ name of Dark Tiger. You got a twin brother who goes by Light Tiger? Just from what I saw on the pissant’s iPad, you got a lot of gold on your wall at him, I bet. Big ol’ bruiser like you probably barreled through every promotion you worked.
And why wouldn’t ya, Pussycat? Gotta put that size to some good in the ring, s’all us giants got outside of football or some other pussy sport--ain’t near as fun as wrestlin’. Rules in this sport ain’t a thing unless the upper management’s got a bug up their ass about wantin’ to be family friendly and that don’t seem the case here.
Hell, you seen the fiesty bitches they got as trainers here, right up there with the hot piece of ass you call a manager.”
He pauses for a moment, laughing out loud to himself before taking a long draw off the can of beer. GRIMM wipes away foam from his mouth after and narrows his gaze at the camera.
“One of ‘em though, she’s one you don’t cross. Learned that the hard way.”
GRIMM lifts up the hem of his undershirt, showing off a messy looking scar that was clearly from a bullet.
“That’s what happens when you get on the bad side of a crazy bitch from Texas whose aim is sharper than her fuckin’ stripper heels. Here’s lookin’ at you, Sinn. Guess that aim ain’t so sharp no more since you lost sight in that eye. Gotta be careful gettin’ old in this business--she came outta retirement to show her protege who was top dog and paid for it. Just sayin’ to all you little fuckwits out there, you train with her, you best stay on her blind side or she’ll put a bullet in you too.”
The veteran wrestler drops the shirt and finishes off the second can of beer, tossing it to join the first one in the sand. He appears to be lost in a memory for a moment before turning his eyes back to the camera.
“Now for that little fuck with the tacky Ed Hardy-era chinstrap.
I know you been at this a while, but even a fast little shit like you is gonna get caught eventually. If I were you, I’d hope for the Pussycat because if I get my hands on ya, you’re gonna come back to the world lookin’ up at hospital lights.
Same with the giant furry, I’m gonna take him out at the knees.
Jetstream--who the fuck came up with that? Probably one of those little shits who spent all fuckin’ Saturday glued to your TV shovin’ cereal in your face. Surprised George Lucas ain’t sued your ass yet, he owns that franchise don’t he? Or is it the fuckin’ evil mouse overlord that owns all the fuckin’ cartoons nowadays? I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t much care, to be honest. All that shit’s only ever been background noise for me to sleep off a bottle of Jack or drown out the sound of my niece Magpie’s fuckin’ constant yammerin’ when she was little.”
As his niece’s nickname leaves his mouth, his mood suddenly turns sour.
“All right, that’s all you pissants get from me today. Fuck off.”
We are left with a fading shot of GRIMM leaning back in the lounger, popping open another beer as his favorite server makes her way towards him.
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