Post by KRENSHOV on Jan 25, 2007 13:45:38 GMT -5
How do you cure an STD? You use medication to eliminate the scum. Kenny Krenshov has tried to pound the medication into NAPW by eliminating the people who do the promotion no justice. So many ailments have been lifted from the surface, ones like Dextro, Krusty Kid Paul, “The Outlaw” Patrick Kidd and now, Patrick Bickle… well another stern ass beating by one, Chris Casino, should forever alleviate that scum from NAPW forever. Then there is the STD that doesn’t want to be removed, a disease that is resilient above the rest—Doomriders. Kenny has gotten his hands on them countless times, but they persist. A fluke win by Thomas Deathrow has given them more fuel to run on. Then on Tuesday Night Fights, Deathrow tries to steal away the Provincial Championship from Kenny’s Untouchable friend and partner, Kurt Castle. Luckily, the title still remains around the waist of the Devastator, but the win was sketchy, and probably will provide a slight ego boost for the Doomrider. It doesn’t matter. Cold Snap will provide the cure-all to eliminate the Doomriders.
“You have two new messages,” the phone informed the beast.
The voice changed on the other line to an unmistakable Eli Potts, “Hey guy, get at me when you get the chance, I’ve got a lot we need to talk about,” like that was a surprise, Eli always wanted to talk, “your double win over Patrick Bickle and the NAPW Champion still has me buzzing! First you took out the trash with that waste product of a former champion Bickle with that bearhug, which I don’t know where you picked that up, but NICE touch. Then the impromptu tag match is called, and you score undoubtedly the biggest win in your career or Evan Cartwright. It was amazing! You have no idea how much your stock has gone up since Tuesday. We had a slight set back with that slip up against Deathrow,” just the name made Kenny grind his teeth, “but every week just keeps getting better and better! Oh yeah, and next week, Mr. Winchell booked you in a match with Cast—.”
Eli’s voice gets cut off and is replaced with, “End of message. To erase this message press seven, to replay this message press—,” Kenny quickly pressed seven, frustrated and eager to find out what Eli was saying. Did he say Mr. Winchell booked Kenny against Castle? No. That can’t be right. “Next message.”
“Hey man, sorry about that, these damn voicemails only give you so much time to record a message! Anyway, what was I talking about before I got cut off? Oh, your match on Tuesday. Mr. Winchell has booked you and Castle to pair off against that international tag team, Next Generation.” The tension exhaled from Kenny’s body in a sigh. He did not want to be put in a match with Kurt, and this was much better news. “I guess it’s Mr. Winchell’s way of providing all the members of the Untouchables easy matches so you can all be well rested going into Cold Snap. I mean Next Generation are… well not even competition for the likes of you two, and I think you pretty much killed Bickle, so Chris will barely have to lift a finger. You guys have the ball and you’re running with it! Alright Kenny, I gotta run, but give me a call back later and we’ll talk it up.”
“End of message, to delete--,” Kenny didn’t even give the automated woman a time to end her line, and hit seven then cut off his phone. He would call his manager, Eli Potts later to talk, right now he was in no mood to chit chat.
Kenny slumps down into his plus tan recliner and sucks in a deep breath. He reflected back, and Eli was right, Tuesday was amazing. When Kenny had returned from being deported, Patrick Bickle was the NAPW champion, and the beast had dreamed of one day taking it from him. Bickle may no longer hold the title, and he may even be a little washed up, but it didn’t matter. Kenny doesn’t yearn to fight others for competition, he strives on recognition. Bickle was just a name on the ever-growing list of those who have fallen to the beast. It kind of reminded him of prison.
Then there was Evan Cartwright, the current NAPW titleholder. Kenny smiled as he remembered the feeling of hoisting the champion up vertically, and dropping him down for the pin. He called his finishing maneuver the Total Eclipse for a reason; Evan Cartwright now knows that reason. With a win over the champion, Kenny has been instantly recognized as a contender. There’s that key word again, recognition. Kenny was no longer on his way to the top, he is at the top.
He thought back to the Doomriders, how Thomas Deathrow almost stole the Provincial Championship from the waste of his fellow Untouchable, Kurt Castle. Luckily, Mr. Winchell has a keen eye for injustice, and corrected the problem with haste. Deathrow has never held a singles title, and thanks to Mr. Winchell, he hopefully never will.
Kenny’s good mood shifted slightly as he thought about that piece of shit. It all started with the Man/Men in Black saga. Tommy was the culprit; he was the original Man in Black. Karma has corrected itself slightly and is balancing out more and more every week. STD wanted to bring all his friends in the mix, so Kenny has defeated…no annihilated all of his friends. That was the fun part. Cold Snap will be the really fun part. To actually get a hold of that bastard and beat the life out of him would mean more to Kenny than both of his pin falls over Bickle and Cartwright.
With Chris Casino at his side, the Untouchables will end the awful legacy of the Doomriders once and for all.
Kenny pondered his other rival, SBK. He has more talent in his pinky than Deathrow does in his entire body. The two of them were an odd fit. Too odd. Billy talked a lot of trash, he even partook in the Men in Black scandal, but for what it was worth, Kenny felt like he beat the hell out him enough. Then the dumbass decides to side with his good buddy STD. Kenny didn’t understand it, but if he wanted to add his two cents into this war, then he had better be prepared for the consequences.
For Kenny Krenshov, Cold Snap will be about destruction and redemption.
His mind wandered to his opponents for Tuesday Night Fights. Next Generation? Who the hell were they? Eli said something about them being an international team… whatever. They are going against the two biggest men in the company. They are going against a team that holds the Provincial Champion. They are going against a team that holds a contender. A real contender.
These two would be no cause for worry. Mr. Winchell might as well have given Kurt and Kenny the night off.
Kenny huffed out another sigh as he looked at his watch. It was time to hit the gym. The big man stretched briefly and sprung up from the chair to prepare himself like he has for his entire life, to prepare himself for war.
“You have two new messages,” the phone informed the beast.
The voice changed on the other line to an unmistakable Eli Potts, “Hey guy, get at me when you get the chance, I’ve got a lot we need to talk about,” like that was a surprise, Eli always wanted to talk, “your double win over Patrick Bickle and the NAPW Champion still has me buzzing! First you took out the trash with that waste product of a former champion Bickle with that bearhug, which I don’t know where you picked that up, but NICE touch. Then the impromptu tag match is called, and you score undoubtedly the biggest win in your career or Evan Cartwright. It was amazing! You have no idea how much your stock has gone up since Tuesday. We had a slight set back with that slip up against Deathrow,” just the name made Kenny grind his teeth, “but every week just keeps getting better and better! Oh yeah, and next week, Mr. Winchell booked you in a match with Cast—.”
Eli’s voice gets cut off and is replaced with, “End of message. To erase this message press seven, to replay this message press—,” Kenny quickly pressed seven, frustrated and eager to find out what Eli was saying. Did he say Mr. Winchell booked Kenny against Castle? No. That can’t be right. “Next message.”
“Hey man, sorry about that, these damn voicemails only give you so much time to record a message! Anyway, what was I talking about before I got cut off? Oh, your match on Tuesday. Mr. Winchell has booked you and Castle to pair off against that international tag team, Next Generation.” The tension exhaled from Kenny’s body in a sigh. He did not want to be put in a match with Kurt, and this was much better news. “I guess it’s Mr. Winchell’s way of providing all the members of the Untouchables easy matches so you can all be well rested going into Cold Snap. I mean Next Generation are… well not even competition for the likes of you two, and I think you pretty much killed Bickle, so Chris will barely have to lift a finger. You guys have the ball and you’re running with it! Alright Kenny, I gotta run, but give me a call back later and we’ll talk it up.”
“End of message, to delete--,” Kenny didn’t even give the automated woman a time to end her line, and hit seven then cut off his phone. He would call his manager, Eli Potts later to talk, right now he was in no mood to chit chat.
Kenny slumps down into his plus tan recliner and sucks in a deep breath. He reflected back, and Eli was right, Tuesday was amazing. When Kenny had returned from being deported, Patrick Bickle was the NAPW champion, and the beast had dreamed of one day taking it from him. Bickle may no longer hold the title, and he may even be a little washed up, but it didn’t matter. Kenny doesn’t yearn to fight others for competition, he strives on recognition. Bickle was just a name on the ever-growing list of those who have fallen to the beast. It kind of reminded him of prison.
Then there was Evan Cartwright, the current NAPW titleholder. Kenny smiled as he remembered the feeling of hoisting the champion up vertically, and dropping him down for the pin. He called his finishing maneuver the Total Eclipse for a reason; Evan Cartwright now knows that reason. With a win over the champion, Kenny has been instantly recognized as a contender. There’s that key word again, recognition. Kenny was no longer on his way to the top, he is at the top.
He thought back to the Doomriders, how Thomas Deathrow almost stole the Provincial Championship from the waste of his fellow Untouchable, Kurt Castle. Luckily, Mr. Winchell has a keen eye for injustice, and corrected the problem with haste. Deathrow has never held a singles title, and thanks to Mr. Winchell, he hopefully never will.
Kenny’s good mood shifted slightly as he thought about that piece of shit. It all started with the Man/Men in Black saga. Tommy was the culprit; he was the original Man in Black. Karma has corrected itself slightly and is balancing out more and more every week. STD wanted to bring all his friends in the mix, so Kenny has defeated…no annihilated all of his friends. That was the fun part. Cold Snap will be the really fun part. To actually get a hold of that bastard and beat the life out of him would mean more to Kenny than both of his pin falls over Bickle and Cartwright.
With Chris Casino at his side, the Untouchables will end the awful legacy of the Doomriders once and for all.
Kenny pondered his other rival, SBK. He has more talent in his pinky than Deathrow does in his entire body. The two of them were an odd fit. Too odd. Billy talked a lot of trash, he even partook in the Men in Black scandal, but for what it was worth, Kenny felt like he beat the hell out him enough. Then the dumbass decides to side with his good buddy STD. Kenny didn’t understand it, but if he wanted to add his two cents into this war, then he had better be prepared for the consequences.
For Kenny Krenshov, Cold Snap will be about destruction and redemption.
His mind wandered to his opponents for Tuesday Night Fights. Next Generation? Who the hell were they? Eli said something about them being an international team… whatever. They are going against the two biggest men in the company. They are going against a team that holds the Provincial Champion. They are going against a team that holds a contender. A real contender.
These two would be no cause for worry. Mr. Winchell might as well have given Kurt and Kenny the night off.
Kenny huffed out another sigh as he looked at his watch. It was time to hit the gym. The big man stretched briefly and sprung up from the chair to prepare himself like he has for his entire life, to prepare himself for war.