Post by MackaBEE on Mar 29, 2007 11:25:03 GMT -5
The Rebel Pro Wresting Heavyweight Championship is a hop skip and a pin-fall away from being on the waist of the boisterous MackaBEE. On the eve of April 3rd, MackaBEE will go head-to-head against NAPW’s own, “Sick” Billy Kryenik, to decide who will go on to a triple threat match the following week for the gold. Will he be able to pull it off? Well, if you ask MackaBEE… well, why don’t we just ask him?
Drop it. Fade in. The man who calls himself MackaBEE, usually multiple times in the same sentence, is posted up on a beach chair on the soft sands of the Florida coast. His dark designer sun glasses cover his eyes, and a blue on white floral silk button down matches his white slacks perfectly. MackaBEE looks up as the camera comes in closer…
“Right on time!” MackaBEE stands from his seat, rolls his shoulders, and looks into the camera, “Ladies and gents, thank you for visiting the man of the hour in his home city, Miami! Today MackaBEE has decided to relax on the beach before heading up to the Carolinas to whoop that ass! Who’s ass? You haven’t heard? Well let MackaBEE tell ya who! MackaBEE is going up against that crazy mother, Doomridin’, NAPW Tag Team Championship carrying, “Sick” Billy Kryenik. Now, before MackaBEE goes off on a tangent of how he’s going to take care of business with Sick BK, MackaBEE would like to address one person, and one person alone.”
MackaBEE rips off his sunglasses, looking into the camera with intensity, “Brian Bruno, you’re one lucky son-of-a-bitch. You’re lucky that the Rebel staff decided to throw you into a match with some thing called a Catacomb, and not with MackaBEE. Because you see, now you have a match to get to triple threat match, where you will surely meet MackaBEE. That’s not how MackaBEE wanted it, he wanted it one-on-one so he could slap the stupid right off your face! Triple threat or not, when you see MackaBEE in the ring, you had better get ready to put it down, because MackaBEE aint holding back!”
The Miami Muffdiver slides his sunglasses back on, and smiles, “Now with that out of the way, let MackaBEE get to Sick BK. MackaBEE may come off as having an abundance of confidence, and as that may be true, MackaBEE never over looks an opponent without looking at them first. Now at Sole Survivor, that was the first time MackaBEE saw Sick BK in action, and to tell you the truth, MackaBEE was impressed. You kept your tag strap and almost took home the big one, and to that MackaBEE applauds you, in his head, not actually. Then MackaBEE asked around the back about Sick BK, and there were all sorts of crazy shit thrown out there. Things like winning tournaments, battle royales, death matches. Crazy shit, phenomenal shit… but shit nonetheless. Don’t come at MackaBEE with what you’ve almost done, what you have done, or what you want to do. When you address MackaBEE, you address MackaBEE as an entity you’ve never had to deal with. An entity so large that it can’t be beat, a crazy mother (BLEEP)er that will do anything to not only say he is the greatest but to actually be the (BLEEP) greatest! You dig?”
He looks up at the sun for a moment, and looks back to the camera, “Now nine times out of ten, MackaBEE wouldn’t ever look at you with discourse or animosity, but unfortunately you drew the short straw this time around. No, no, MackaBEE doesn’t hate you, but you’re in the way of the Rebel Gold, and damnit, MackaBEE is hungry for that gold. Hell, you of all people should know what it’s like to be hungry for gold. MackaBEE aint talking about that NAPW Tag Team Championship you have wrapped around your waist, nu-uh, MackaBEE is talking about that one strap you have never had, the NAPW Championship. So you ink a deal with Rebel, knowing all of the NAPW ties with Rebel, and damn well knowing you’d be thrusted in the main event. Try to deny it, just try—because everyone knows it’s true. So you come to Rebel, the big brother to NAPW, thinking maybe, just maybe, if you can steal away the Rebel gold, then it might fill the void of that one thing you’ve never been able to accomplish.”
MackaBEE slides his sunglasses off slowly, then points into the camera, “You had better not overlook three things,” he raises three fingers, “one; this is not NAPW. This is a whole new beast that aint got a care in the world for you, a beast that will chew you up and spit you back out if you aren’t ready. Two,” MackaBEE takes down his ring finger, leaving his middle and index up, “You have never stepped in the ring with MackaBEE. Anything you have ever known about wrestling gets thrown over the top rope and out the window when you’re standing toe-to-toe with MackaBEE. If you think anyone has ever given you a run for your money, then get ready, because MackaBEE isn’t going to give you a run for your money, nah, he’s going to beat the shit out of you then walk away with your money. Then we come down to the last and maybe the most important point of all, the one thing you had better not overlook because this is the one thing that will bite you in the ass if you’re not ready. Three,” MackaBEE lowers his index finger, leaving his middle finger in the air, giving the bird, “MackaBEE is hungry too. The Rebel gold is in the balance, and MackaBEE is practically salivating at the mouth for his chance to stand at the top of this mountain and give a big ol’ Rebel yell! MackaBEE is ready to throw everything but the kitchen sink, ah hell, he’ll throw the kitchen sink at you to if it means victory at the end of the night!”
The partial-Cuban slides his sunglasses back on and smiles, “Just remember SBK, you’re stepping in the ring with the greatest of great, with a man that knows no limits. Hope you’re ready…”
MackaBEE steps out of the cameras view, leaving a scene of soft ocean waves massaging the beach.
…then he steps back into lens. “Woa, almost forgot one damn thing. MAAAAACKKKKAKAKAKAKAKAKKAKAKAAAAAABBEEEEEEEE OUT!”
Raise the top, fade out.
Drop it. Fade in. The man who calls himself MackaBEE, usually multiple times in the same sentence, is posted up on a beach chair on the soft sands of the Florida coast. His dark designer sun glasses cover his eyes, and a blue on white floral silk button down matches his white slacks perfectly. MackaBEE looks up as the camera comes in closer…
“Right on time!” MackaBEE stands from his seat, rolls his shoulders, and looks into the camera, “Ladies and gents, thank you for visiting the man of the hour in his home city, Miami! Today MackaBEE has decided to relax on the beach before heading up to the Carolinas to whoop that ass! Who’s ass? You haven’t heard? Well let MackaBEE tell ya who! MackaBEE is going up against that crazy mother, Doomridin’, NAPW Tag Team Championship carrying, “Sick” Billy Kryenik. Now, before MackaBEE goes off on a tangent of how he’s going to take care of business with Sick BK, MackaBEE would like to address one person, and one person alone.”
MackaBEE rips off his sunglasses, looking into the camera with intensity, “Brian Bruno, you’re one lucky son-of-a-bitch. You’re lucky that the Rebel staff decided to throw you into a match with some thing called a Catacomb, and not with MackaBEE. Because you see, now you have a match to get to triple threat match, where you will surely meet MackaBEE. That’s not how MackaBEE wanted it, he wanted it one-on-one so he could slap the stupid right off your face! Triple threat or not, when you see MackaBEE in the ring, you had better get ready to put it down, because MackaBEE aint holding back!”
The Miami Muffdiver slides his sunglasses back on, and smiles, “Now with that out of the way, let MackaBEE get to Sick BK. MackaBEE may come off as having an abundance of confidence, and as that may be true, MackaBEE never over looks an opponent without looking at them first. Now at Sole Survivor, that was the first time MackaBEE saw Sick BK in action, and to tell you the truth, MackaBEE was impressed. You kept your tag strap and almost took home the big one, and to that MackaBEE applauds you, in his head, not actually. Then MackaBEE asked around the back about Sick BK, and there were all sorts of crazy shit thrown out there. Things like winning tournaments, battle royales, death matches. Crazy shit, phenomenal shit… but shit nonetheless. Don’t come at MackaBEE with what you’ve almost done, what you have done, or what you want to do. When you address MackaBEE, you address MackaBEE as an entity you’ve never had to deal with. An entity so large that it can’t be beat, a crazy mother (BLEEP)er that will do anything to not only say he is the greatest but to actually be the (BLEEP) greatest! You dig?”
He looks up at the sun for a moment, and looks back to the camera, “Now nine times out of ten, MackaBEE wouldn’t ever look at you with discourse or animosity, but unfortunately you drew the short straw this time around. No, no, MackaBEE doesn’t hate you, but you’re in the way of the Rebel Gold, and damnit, MackaBEE is hungry for that gold. Hell, you of all people should know what it’s like to be hungry for gold. MackaBEE aint talking about that NAPW Tag Team Championship you have wrapped around your waist, nu-uh, MackaBEE is talking about that one strap you have never had, the NAPW Championship. So you ink a deal with Rebel, knowing all of the NAPW ties with Rebel, and damn well knowing you’d be thrusted in the main event. Try to deny it, just try—because everyone knows it’s true. So you come to Rebel, the big brother to NAPW, thinking maybe, just maybe, if you can steal away the Rebel gold, then it might fill the void of that one thing you’ve never been able to accomplish.”
MackaBEE slides his sunglasses off slowly, then points into the camera, “You had better not overlook three things,” he raises three fingers, “one; this is not NAPW. This is a whole new beast that aint got a care in the world for you, a beast that will chew you up and spit you back out if you aren’t ready. Two,” MackaBEE takes down his ring finger, leaving his middle and index up, “You have never stepped in the ring with MackaBEE. Anything you have ever known about wrestling gets thrown over the top rope and out the window when you’re standing toe-to-toe with MackaBEE. If you think anyone has ever given you a run for your money, then get ready, because MackaBEE isn’t going to give you a run for your money, nah, he’s going to beat the shit out of you then walk away with your money. Then we come down to the last and maybe the most important point of all, the one thing you had better not overlook because this is the one thing that will bite you in the ass if you’re not ready. Three,” MackaBEE lowers his index finger, leaving his middle finger in the air, giving the bird, “MackaBEE is hungry too. The Rebel gold is in the balance, and MackaBEE is practically salivating at the mouth for his chance to stand at the top of this mountain and give a big ol’ Rebel yell! MackaBEE is ready to throw everything but the kitchen sink, ah hell, he’ll throw the kitchen sink at you to if it means victory at the end of the night!”
The partial-Cuban slides his sunglasses back on and smiles, “Just remember SBK, you’re stepping in the ring with the greatest of great, with a man that knows no limits. Hope you’re ready…”
MackaBEE steps out of the cameras view, leaving a scene of soft ocean waves massaging the beach.
…then he steps back into lens. “Woa, almost forgot one damn thing. MAAAAACKKKKAKAKAKAKAKAKKAKAKAAAAAABBEEEEEEEE OUT!”
Raise the top, fade out.