Post by KRENSHOV on Mar 2, 2007 15:11:08 GMT -5
Another Battle Royale.
Crinks and cranks, cracks and snaps rippled through the beast’s back as a small Asian woman walked on his back. With every kink worked out Kenny moaned in relief from the pressure release. He wore only a towel on his lower half as he lay face down, and she, a red kimono. The size difference was stunning. She looked like a small child compared to the massive Kenny Krenshov.
The Action! Battle Royale was a disappointment. Kenny had the win in his grasp, but Mr. SBK had foiled everything. How ironic; Billy had defeated Kenny in a Battle Royale, now Kenny must win a Battle Royal to face the “Sick” one himself. Irony is so bittersweet.
Her small feet worked on his muscles in slow, small circles. This was outrageous bliss, and Kenny would be sure to thank the Pure Vegas Champion for accommodating such a treat. “You biggest man I ever seen,” she said. Thick accent and improper grammar aside, Kenny took it as a compliment. She stepped to the small of his back, pushing back on the ball of her heels, then steadily pushing forward up on her toes.
Who knew Rex Caliber would be so quick to offer the Untouchables a chance to gain a tag team title shot? Was it generosity? No. This was an act of cowardice. Rex knows that the Untouchables are the most able tag team in the NAPW, and that next to them, there is no competition. So, he throws together a match to offer them a title shot, but the match is a weak attempt at lowering the odds of an Untouchable win. Battle Royale’s are as much about skill as they are about luck—Rex knows this. Now, if the Untouchable’s lose, he can play it off as if he offered them a shot, and delay the inevitable a bit longer. How coy. What he doesn’t understand, is that even with lowering the odds, the Untouchables still stand at no chance of losing this match.
The Asian woman stood on his broad shoulders, moving from side to side. It was a Zen-like feeling. This was one of the rare times you will ever see Kenny Krenshov at peace. His tattoos danced along his rippling muscles with ever step and push the talented masseuse made, and his bronze-leathery skin shimmered in the light beneath massage oils.
Rex Caliber is a joke. He can’t even contain four wrestlers in an organization, how does he expect to keep this company going? Everyone should be thanking the earth that the Untouchables walk on; for they will save this forsaken place, come hell or high water. Everything is in full motion, the true purpose of the Untouchables. First, not just a name change, but introducing a new era. Leaving Canada will be the best thing for this company, no one can dispute that fact, and entering the American markets will bring in new viewers and more sponsors. This will be North American Pro Wrestling. You cannot expect a change for the better to just happen over night and with a name change, no, it will take a lot of hard work. While the Pure Vegas and Provincial Championships are tightly secure in the Untouchable ranks, two other titles hang in the balance that could swing the shift of power. If the Untouchables can obtain the NAPW Heavyweight Championship, and the Tag Team Championships, the power will be undisputed—Rex would crumble, the Untouchables will reign supreme.
Did Kenny slip off? He must have unintentionally passed out, but the beast wakened as the small woman attempted to shake him. Kenny stretched feeling completely relieved. He sat up on the massage table, wrapping the towel around his waist. It was nice to escape from the stressors of reality and to have each muscle relieved of all tension… but soon it would be time to face reality.
In a few days Kenny would be on a plane back to Canada, and walking into a match with ten opponents, armed only with the partner of Jay O’Brien. Would that be enough? Of course. Competition doesn’t even exist in that match. The Royal Foundation? The only thing royal about them is the ass beatings they get on a consistent basis. They’re so low on the proverbial food chain, that the Kurtis brothers beat their asses on the regular. Now that’s sad. While on the topic of the Kurtis boys, they are another pathetic tag team added to the mix. The reality of the matter, is that both of these teams already understand they don’t have half a chance in hell of winning, but they figure they’ll go through with it because who knows when they’ll be on Tuesday Night Fights again. When the Untouchables are in control, the only time these four will ever be on Tuesday Night Fights is if they buy a ticket and happen to get a split second shot by the camera.
The beast slid his black Untouchables tee shirt on as he finished dressing, thanked the masseuse for her wonderful job, and headed out from the secluded VIP daytime area in Chris’ casino, and onto the loud and bright area of the casino floor. All the daytime gamblers were a mix of old women and gambling junkies, but they were all winners in their heads. He made his way through to the lobby, and to the outside. As soon as he stepped out into the sunlight, a black limousine pulls up. The driver immediately gets out, walks around, and opens the door for Kenny.
You have the Famous Monsters of Hollyweird in the mix… who cares? Jay and Kenny already dispensed of the horribly disguised, and terribly gimmicked Monsters. They’re almost less of a concern than the aforementioned teams, or as the running joke of the Untouchables goes, Team Action! As long as the Monsters wrestling abilities remain as weak as their humor, then they don’t stand a chance in hell. Then Jeff James and Dio Muerte are once again thrown together and given a shot. What the hell was a Dio Muerte anyway? Kenny couldn’t figure it out, and he couldn’t find it in a dictionary. Then Jeff James. Well, he’s a tool. There’s no other way around it. He stood no chance in hell against Chris, and he got pinned in his attempt to get a shot at Kurt’s Provincial title. Jeff should just forever be the moniker for the mythical Television title… like that thing even exists.
The air conditioning and the leather seats were ridiculously comfortable and luxurious. That’s how life has been since joining the Untouchables, and it only gets better week after week. Kenny even poured himself a glass of champagne, provided in the limousine’s mini fridge. Chris wanted his team to be able to chill on their off time, and provide results on their off time. As long as Chris provided the pampering, Kenny had no problem dealing out beatings on a weekly basis. Sadly, Chris hasn’t been able to relax on his off time with that demon spawn of an accident wife of his… ah, but that wasn’t Kenny’s place to interfere.
Midnight Cowboys… were they ever champions? Oh, that’s right, the DOOMriders beat them, and now there isn’t a soul in the NAPW even looking at the Cowboys as contenders for the belts. How pathetic. They beat the disbanded D-X when they’re on the rocks, and then can’t even defend the belts once against the DOOMriders. Again, pathetic. The Cowboys would have more luck breaking their team apart, and entering a more fitting scene on Action! in that division that Jeff James took so much pride in. If you don’t understand why the Untouchables stand no chance of losing after all that, then you need to go back and get your GED.
The limousine stopped at a hotel, and out comes walking Eli Potts. A tie, jacket, slacks, briefcase, gelled hair, and a phone held to his ear—Eli was the definition of the American workingman. The driver opened the door, and Eli jumped right in. “Yeah, hey I’ll give you a call in a little while, I’m here with Kenny now. Alright, later.” He shut his phone and tucked it away, “Kenny!”
“What’s up Eli?”
”What’s up? The buzz of what you and O’Brien did to Next Generation is what’s up! You two destroyed them! It’s so bad that I think the Mexican one is still in the hospital.”
Kenny smirked; the sick bastard enjoyed other people’s pain. “So did it work?”
“No… Rex has stated that Next Generation’s tag title shot is still in on for next week, as long as they can still compete.”
The beast’s smirk turned to a huff filled with discontent. “Leave it to Rex…” The Untouchable’s plan of getting Next Generation’s tag title shot had fallen through, but there is no way they will be 100% for their title match.
“It’s alright though, I didn’t expect Rex to book this Battle Royale. I understand his game, but if—“
“When,” Kenny replied.
“When you two win this match, his attempts of blocking the Untouchable’s title shot will be void. My guess, is you’ll get your shot at Sole Survivor.”
Kenny remembered slamming one of those international no-namers through a steel chair… it was so sweet. Then he remembered the DOOMriders. Sure the attack on Next Generation was motivated by a massive agenda, but Kenny had his own underlying. He didn’t want anyone else taking the tag team championships from the DOOMriders unless it was going to be him. That’s the only way his thirst for revenge on those two mistakes would be quenched.
“I can’t wait to hear what huge statement Rex has to make this week,” Eli said.
“Yeah…” Kenny replied, but he wasn’t even paying attention to what Eli had said, he was focused on paying back the DOOMriders for everything they have cost him.
“I hope he folds quick. It’ll make things much easier than having to destroy half a roster just to get our intentions out there.”
“Mhm…” The tables… oh the tables. Crashing through all those tables off that balcony. Ugh.
“Once he sees you and O’Brien win this Battle Royale, I’m sure Rex’s attitude will change for the better.”
“Definitely…” The flaming chair, crashing into Kenny’s skull—he still feels the pain whenever he thinks about the event.
“So, has Chris told you what he plans to do about Monique?”
Kenny snapped back to reality. “I try to stay out of it.” Of course he tries to stay out of it, the last woman he was in a relationship with left him while he was in jail.
“Hah, I wish I had that ability to not gossip, but it’s in my blood or something,” Eli replied. It certainly was. For the rest of the ride Kenny didn’t say a word, and Eli spouted off to whomever it was on the phone. Slowly, Kenny drifted back into thoughts of ripping the tag belts from the waists of SBK and STD. It didn’t matter if Kenny had to defeat all five teams by himself, he would get in the ring with both of those men again, and not only take a victory from them, but take the tag gold and end the year of the DOOMrider.
Crinks and cranks, cracks and snaps rippled through the beast’s back as a small Asian woman walked on his back. With every kink worked out Kenny moaned in relief from the pressure release. He wore only a towel on his lower half as he lay face down, and she, a red kimono. The size difference was stunning. She looked like a small child compared to the massive Kenny Krenshov.
The Action! Battle Royale was a disappointment. Kenny had the win in his grasp, but Mr. SBK had foiled everything. How ironic; Billy had defeated Kenny in a Battle Royale, now Kenny must win a Battle Royal to face the “Sick” one himself. Irony is so bittersweet.
Her small feet worked on his muscles in slow, small circles. This was outrageous bliss, and Kenny would be sure to thank the Pure Vegas Champion for accommodating such a treat. “You biggest man I ever seen,” she said. Thick accent and improper grammar aside, Kenny took it as a compliment. She stepped to the small of his back, pushing back on the ball of her heels, then steadily pushing forward up on her toes.
Who knew Rex Caliber would be so quick to offer the Untouchables a chance to gain a tag team title shot? Was it generosity? No. This was an act of cowardice. Rex knows that the Untouchables are the most able tag team in the NAPW, and that next to them, there is no competition. So, he throws together a match to offer them a title shot, but the match is a weak attempt at lowering the odds of an Untouchable win. Battle Royale’s are as much about skill as they are about luck—Rex knows this. Now, if the Untouchable’s lose, he can play it off as if he offered them a shot, and delay the inevitable a bit longer. How coy. What he doesn’t understand, is that even with lowering the odds, the Untouchables still stand at no chance of losing this match.
The Asian woman stood on his broad shoulders, moving from side to side. It was a Zen-like feeling. This was one of the rare times you will ever see Kenny Krenshov at peace. His tattoos danced along his rippling muscles with ever step and push the talented masseuse made, and his bronze-leathery skin shimmered in the light beneath massage oils.
Rex Caliber is a joke. He can’t even contain four wrestlers in an organization, how does he expect to keep this company going? Everyone should be thanking the earth that the Untouchables walk on; for they will save this forsaken place, come hell or high water. Everything is in full motion, the true purpose of the Untouchables. First, not just a name change, but introducing a new era. Leaving Canada will be the best thing for this company, no one can dispute that fact, and entering the American markets will bring in new viewers and more sponsors. This will be North American Pro Wrestling. You cannot expect a change for the better to just happen over night and with a name change, no, it will take a lot of hard work. While the Pure Vegas and Provincial Championships are tightly secure in the Untouchable ranks, two other titles hang in the balance that could swing the shift of power. If the Untouchables can obtain the NAPW Heavyweight Championship, and the Tag Team Championships, the power will be undisputed—Rex would crumble, the Untouchables will reign supreme.
Did Kenny slip off? He must have unintentionally passed out, but the beast wakened as the small woman attempted to shake him. Kenny stretched feeling completely relieved. He sat up on the massage table, wrapping the towel around his waist. It was nice to escape from the stressors of reality and to have each muscle relieved of all tension… but soon it would be time to face reality.
In a few days Kenny would be on a plane back to Canada, and walking into a match with ten opponents, armed only with the partner of Jay O’Brien. Would that be enough? Of course. Competition doesn’t even exist in that match. The Royal Foundation? The only thing royal about them is the ass beatings they get on a consistent basis. They’re so low on the proverbial food chain, that the Kurtis brothers beat their asses on the regular. Now that’s sad. While on the topic of the Kurtis boys, they are another pathetic tag team added to the mix. The reality of the matter, is that both of these teams already understand they don’t have half a chance in hell of winning, but they figure they’ll go through with it because who knows when they’ll be on Tuesday Night Fights again. When the Untouchables are in control, the only time these four will ever be on Tuesday Night Fights is if they buy a ticket and happen to get a split second shot by the camera.
The beast slid his black Untouchables tee shirt on as he finished dressing, thanked the masseuse for her wonderful job, and headed out from the secluded VIP daytime area in Chris’ casino, and onto the loud and bright area of the casino floor. All the daytime gamblers were a mix of old women and gambling junkies, but they were all winners in their heads. He made his way through to the lobby, and to the outside. As soon as he stepped out into the sunlight, a black limousine pulls up. The driver immediately gets out, walks around, and opens the door for Kenny.
You have the Famous Monsters of Hollyweird in the mix… who cares? Jay and Kenny already dispensed of the horribly disguised, and terribly gimmicked Monsters. They’re almost less of a concern than the aforementioned teams, or as the running joke of the Untouchables goes, Team Action! As long as the Monsters wrestling abilities remain as weak as their humor, then they don’t stand a chance in hell. Then Jeff James and Dio Muerte are once again thrown together and given a shot. What the hell was a Dio Muerte anyway? Kenny couldn’t figure it out, and he couldn’t find it in a dictionary. Then Jeff James. Well, he’s a tool. There’s no other way around it. He stood no chance in hell against Chris, and he got pinned in his attempt to get a shot at Kurt’s Provincial title. Jeff should just forever be the moniker for the mythical Television title… like that thing even exists.
The air conditioning and the leather seats were ridiculously comfortable and luxurious. That’s how life has been since joining the Untouchables, and it only gets better week after week. Kenny even poured himself a glass of champagne, provided in the limousine’s mini fridge. Chris wanted his team to be able to chill on their off time, and provide results on their off time. As long as Chris provided the pampering, Kenny had no problem dealing out beatings on a weekly basis. Sadly, Chris hasn’t been able to relax on his off time with that demon spawn of an accident wife of his… ah, but that wasn’t Kenny’s place to interfere.
Midnight Cowboys… were they ever champions? Oh, that’s right, the DOOMriders beat them, and now there isn’t a soul in the NAPW even looking at the Cowboys as contenders for the belts. How pathetic. They beat the disbanded D-X when they’re on the rocks, and then can’t even defend the belts once against the DOOMriders. Again, pathetic. The Cowboys would have more luck breaking their team apart, and entering a more fitting scene on Action! in that division that Jeff James took so much pride in. If you don’t understand why the Untouchables stand no chance of losing after all that, then you need to go back and get your GED.
The limousine stopped at a hotel, and out comes walking Eli Potts. A tie, jacket, slacks, briefcase, gelled hair, and a phone held to his ear—Eli was the definition of the American workingman. The driver opened the door, and Eli jumped right in. “Yeah, hey I’ll give you a call in a little while, I’m here with Kenny now. Alright, later.” He shut his phone and tucked it away, “Kenny!”
“What’s up Eli?”
”What’s up? The buzz of what you and O’Brien did to Next Generation is what’s up! You two destroyed them! It’s so bad that I think the Mexican one is still in the hospital.”
Kenny smirked; the sick bastard enjoyed other people’s pain. “So did it work?”
“No… Rex has stated that Next Generation’s tag title shot is still in on for next week, as long as they can still compete.”
The beast’s smirk turned to a huff filled with discontent. “Leave it to Rex…” The Untouchable’s plan of getting Next Generation’s tag title shot had fallen through, but there is no way they will be 100% for their title match.
“It’s alright though, I didn’t expect Rex to book this Battle Royale. I understand his game, but if—“
“When,” Kenny replied.
“When you two win this match, his attempts of blocking the Untouchable’s title shot will be void. My guess, is you’ll get your shot at Sole Survivor.”
Kenny remembered slamming one of those international no-namers through a steel chair… it was so sweet. Then he remembered the DOOMriders. Sure the attack on Next Generation was motivated by a massive agenda, but Kenny had his own underlying. He didn’t want anyone else taking the tag team championships from the DOOMriders unless it was going to be him. That’s the only way his thirst for revenge on those two mistakes would be quenched.
“I can’t wait to hear what huge statement Rex has to make this week,” Eli said.
“Yeah…” Kenny replied, but he wasn’t even paying attention to what Eli had said, he was focused on paying back the DOOMriders for everything they have cost him.
“I hope he folds quick. It’ll make things much easier than having to destroy half a roster just to get our intentions out there.”
“Mhm…” The tables… oh the tables. Crashing through all those tables off that balcony. Ugh.
“Once he sees you and O’Brien win this Battle Royale, I’m sure Rex’s attitude will change for the better.”
“Definitely…” The flaming chair, crashing into Kenny’s skull—he still feels the pain whenever he thinks about the event.
“So, has Chris told you what he plans to do about Monique?”
Kenny snapped back to reality. “I try to stay out of it.” Of course he tries to stay out of it, the last woman he was in a relationship with left him while he was in jail.
“Hah, I wish I had that ability to not gossip, but it’s in my blood or something,” Eli replied. It certainly was. For the rest of the ride Kenny didn’t say a word, and Eli spouted off to whomever it was on the phone. Slowly, Kenny drifted back into thoughts of ripping the tag belts from the waists of SBK and STD. It didn’t matter if Kenny had to defeat all five teams by himself, he would get in the ring with both of those men again, and not only take a victory from them, but take the tag gold and end the year of the DOOMrider.