Post by "Superstar" Deathrow on Jan 20, 2006 1:34:37 GMT -5
The cool breeze refreshed the Demented Deathrow as it blew in through his open car window as he sailed along a highway somewhere in Canada. Tommy Deathrow was driving a black VW Van courtesy of the NAPW in co-operation with a sponsering car rental firm. The seats were full of holes and had ciggarette burn in them and the van was furnished with dead mice and a few cats giving it a more homely feel. On the passenger seat lied a TV Guide, a bottle of valium, bottle of Whiskey but more importantly his gleaming Jack Hannah DVD‘s. His eyes were slightly blinded early on in the trip by the sun so he had stopped at a small tourist shop and stole a pair of pink sunglasses with Hello Kitty on them
The camera did not focus on the Extreme beasts face, rather on the road as he drove. In front where burdens of traffic. The camera panned back and filmed the side of the demented ones face as he concentrated on the road. A small parking area was observed by Tommy Deathrow. With careful steering he turned himself off of the road and pulled into it. He parked and got out, picking his Jack Hannah zoo DVD up aswell as the bottle of Whiskey. He shot the door and walked out. He looked around to see who else was in the parking lot. It was just him and the cameras. He took a seat on the bonnet and began to speak.
Tommy Deathrow: As I stand here on the verge of the most risking defence, I think... Why? Why do I choose to put myself through torture, through pure agony? Why do I do it to keep a few pounds of gold on my shoulder? “Deathrow looks at both of his shoulders than shrugs” I guess not. Maybe, to some, it's not worth. Maybe to some the easier option would be to throw the towel in rather than to stand up tall. I stand up tall. I can answer my own question. I do it because it's what I'm meant to do. Hurt people. Kill them. Make them bleed the blood of a thousand men There is not another profession on god's green planet that I could excel more in. Wrestling is what I'm meant to be doing and for that reason I'll do it until the days where I sh!t my pants and have some caring fat woman clean it up for me. I'm not planning to throw the towel in for any reason. Instead I`m to busy thinking about the out come of the doom riders next match, I am looking forward to it. I'm cherishing the fact that in a few days the Canadian fan's, aswell as those back home and all around the world, will lay eyes upon a match that shouldn't take place let alone be aired on television. I think about it and that's why it's worth risking my life... Rebelling.
There was still a disregarding ayre of confidence about Tommy Deathrow's voice. He knows where he was and he knew what was ahead of him and Billy in his still prospering career. He was going to be a icon in this company and he knew it. It was obvious on the surface he knew he was one of the best in the NAPW and he was proud. He unscrewed his clear bottle of whiskey and took a long sip of it, half of the bottle had disappeared. He then placed the bottle down once again and paused for a few more seconds. He then continued.
Tommy Deathrow: Ahh remind me to buy a liter bottle next time because this fifth is not going to cut it today. Oh yess, Modern culture is decided by a group of individuals who set out expectations, rules and regulations. There are no ends to these bonified ideas and many choose to follow them. Fooled. They think they're doing right by standing in line but really they are just comforing to the views of others. My sense of individuality revolves around the wrestling ring. Around wrestling. Even wrestling, the most violent sport in the world, Next to child abuse. Has strict rules and guidelines and what do I think about these? Fuk them. That's why I'm the sickest man in the NAPW along with Kryenik. We not need rules. Were blood driven maniacs.. That's why I've brang a new meaning to the word hardcore in every federation I've fought in. I want to show I can think for myself and stand up tall among the sheep, the followers. See, the roster can comform to their tactical wrestling or whatever they want but I am the shockwave. I am the unexpected stab in the dark. I will not insult myself by getting a few cheep claps because I can link a few moves together in a sequence. I'd rather be remembered for the fact that I brought a piece of wood to the bridge of my opponent's nose to make them bleed, make them hurt. Fuk guidelines and fuk tradition. I'll fight and not submit to such expectations.
He grazed the surface of his DVD with his strong hand. He wiped the small specks of dust from it and then brushed the sweat from his brow. He waited another few seconds before continuing.
Tommy Deathrow: Ahhh, For those reasons, it's why this 'falls count any where' excites me so much. So much so I`m glad I wore pants today instead of sweats! There are no rules, no guidelines. The only expectations for this match are certain injury, unavoidable pain and possible death. No modern comfort involved. Blood, guts, cuts and throbbing pain. The way I like it. It's certain there will be no roll up pins or combinations of 'beautifully' excuted moves. The only thing that will be beautiful is the picture perfect vision of two men ripping there opponents apart . Tearing at each others faces. Trying to eachother over one thing that might seem like just a victory. Jokers Wild isn't about defending my DVD or beating the Delivery Men. I've done those things before. It's about showing the fans who see the beauty of pain that extreme isn't dead but is once again on the horizon. I've had enough of watching watered down wrestling and grappling. This is a man's sport and what seperates the men from the boys is being able to break the life of the opponent aswell as parts of their anatomy. Something I will pride myself in as I bring a new vagour about the tag team division..
Deathrow digs in his ear for a few seconds looks a his finger than eats the contents that are on it
Tommy Deathrow: One and Two, if you are scared you better displace your fear because the falls count anywhere match is no place for those with woes or fears. It's the playground for those confident enough to engage in such danger. Fear has no placed in such a brutual environment. Lets face it all envirments are brutial with the Doomriders running around. You're going to have no hope, no chance if you come in looking scared, looking fearful. See, if your scared then I an Billy Kryenik are going to run riot. If you're scared then you're going to be restricted of bringing all you have got to the ring. I know you inside out One and Two. Again and again I've penetrated your weaknesses and destroyed you inside the ring so what are the chances if you come to the ring with a look of fear in your eyes, surrounded by explosives, thumbtacks and barbwire god willingly. If you're not smart enough to make an assumption, I'll make one of you. The chances of you winning are very slim and the chances of you leaving unscarred, unblemished are slimmer because believe me... I have no soft spot for a losers like youselves and I will not back down and Billy sures in hell never backs down..
Deathrow looks into space as if expecting something to comment
Tommy Deathrow: One an Two, I suppose being the confident men you are, you probably believe that some how some way you two will beable to make it out of this match together as one. Some how pin Kryenik or I. But I promise there is no way that, that will happen. You see This is match three. Between us. As the old saying goes third times a charm. An the charm falls in the Doomriders Favor. I seen that the polls are looking almost fifty fifty. Such fool. How, Why would people honestly beleave that two grown men who deliver packages for a living would beable to overcome the obstical of beating only two true cannibals in the wrestling business.
Tommy Deathrow took a pack of ciggerates from his jeans pocket and opened them. He took one of them squeezes the filter and placed it between his lips and lit it with his lighter. He took a long drag and flicked some of the ash on the black bonnet of his rent car. He continued to speak after taking another drag of the ciggerate.
Tommy Deathrow: Despite a win against you guys you‘d think that it would motivate you guys yet, you're struggling to get up the flight of stairs that leads to glory. Everytime you get half way up the stairs and look confident to reach the top, I hit you in the face with a tin of paint. Kinda like Macoley Colkin... I knock you down the stairs to defend what's mine. The largest collection of Jack Hannah Zoo DVD‘s and a pet snapper turtle. Where ever he is. Also the place at the top of the tag team division that will vary soon be run by Billy Kryenik I’ll be there to though… Each time you fall down the flight of stairs appears to look bigger and bigger and it kind of frightens you. Face it Delivery boys, while I'm at the top with my tins of paint and other weapons... There is no way your getting to the top. To cut this extended metaphor short... Stick to wrestling the other no-hopers because there is no way in hell your taking my DVD, this week or the next.
And with that Tommy Deathrow took his ciggerate, DVD and whiskey and got back in the VW van. The cameras filmed him as he pulled out of the car park and drove into the distance. Jokers Wild was getting closer and Tommy Deathrow was growing ever more confident by the day... Would there be a shock at the end of the line? Who knows. All we know is that this man is on fire and doesn't look to be extinguished by anyway because there are no equations he can't simplify currently.
The camera did not focus on the Extreme beasts face, rather on the road as he drove. In front where burdens of traffic. The camera panned back and filmed the side of the demented ones face as he concentrated on the road. A small parking area was observed by Tommy Deathrow. With careful steering he turned himself off of the road and pulled into it. He parked and got out, picking his Jack Hannah zoo DVD up aswell as the bottle of Whiskey. He shot the door and walked out. He looked around to see who else was in the parking lot. It was just him and the cameras. He took a seat on the bonnet and began to speak.
Tommy Deathrow: As I stand here on the verge of the most risking defence, I think... Why? Why do I choose to put myself through torture, through pure agony? Why do I do it to keep a few pounds of gold on my shoulder? “Deathrow looks at both of his shoulders than shrugs” I guess not. Maybe, to some, it's not worth. Maybe to some the easier option would be to throw the towel in rather than to stand up tall. I stand up tall. I can answer my own question. I do it because it's what I'm meant to do. Hurt people. Kill them. Make them bleed the blood of a thousand men There is not another profession on god's green planet that I could excel more in. Wrestling is what I'm meant to be doing and for that reason I'll do it until the days where I sh!t my pants and have some caring fat woman clean it up for me. I'm not planning to throw the towel in for any reason. Instead I`m to busy thinking about the out come of the doom riders next match, I am looking forward to it. I'm cherishing the fact that in a few days the Canadian fan's, aswell as those back home and all around the world, will lay eyes upon a match that shouldn't take place let alone be aired on television. I think about it and that's why it's worth risking my life... Rebelling.
There was still a disregarding ayre of confidence about Tommy Deathrow's voice. He knows where he was and he knew what was ahead of him and Billy in his still prospering career. He was going to be a icon in this company and he knew it. It was obvious on the surface he knew he was one of the best in the NAPW and he was proud. He unscrewed his clear bottle of whiskey and took a long sip of it, half of the bottle had disappeared. He then placed the bottle down once again and paused for a few more seconds. He then continued.
Tommy Deathrow: Ahh remind me to buy a liter bottle next time because this fifth is not going to cut it today. Oh yess, Modern culture is decided by a group of individuals who set out expectations, rules and regulations. There are no ends to these bonified ideas and many choose to follow them. Fooled. They think they're doing right by standing in line but really they are just comforing to the views of others. My sense of individuality revolves around the wrestling ring. Around wrestling. Even wrestling, the most violent sport in the world, Next to child abuse. Has strict rules and guidelines and what do I think about these? Fuk them. That's why I'm the sickest man in the NAPW along with Kryenik. We not need rules. Were blood driven maniacs.. That's why I've brang a new meaning to the word hardcore in every federation I've fought in. I want to show I can think for myself and stand up tall among the sheep, the followers. See, the roster can comform to their tactical wrestling or whatever they want but I am the shockwave. I am the unexpected stab in the dark. I will not insult myself by getting a few cheep claps because I can link a few moves together in a sequence. I'd rather be remembered for the fact that I brought a piece of wood to the bridge of my opponent's nose to make them bleed, make them hurt. Fuk guidelines and fuk tradition. I'll fight and not submit to such expectations.
He grazed the surface of his DVD with his strong hand. He wiped the small specks of dust from it and then brushed the sweat from his brow. He waited another few seconds before continuing.
Tommy Deathrow: Ahhh, For those reasons, it's why this 'falls count any where' excites me so much. So much so I`m glad I wore pants today instead of sweats! There are no rules, no guidelines. The only expectations for this match are certain injury, unavoidable pain and possible death. No modern comfort involved. Blood, guts, cuts and throbbing pain. The way I like it. It's certain there will be no roll up pins or combinations of 'beautifully' excuted moves. The only thing that will be beautiful is the picture perfect vision of two men ripping there opponents apart . Tearing at each others faces. Trying to eachother over one thing that might seem like just a victory. Jokers Wild isn't about defending my DVD or beating the Delivery Men. I've done those things before. It's about showing the fans who see the beauty of pain that extreme isn't dead but is once again on the horizon. I've had enough of watching watered down wrestling and grappling. This is a man's sport and what seperates the men from the boys is being able to break the life of the opponent aswell as parts of their anatomy. Something I will pride myself in as I bring a new vagour about the tag team division..
Deathrow digs in his ear for a few seconds looks a his finger than eats the contents that are on it
Tommy Deathrow: One and Two, if you are scared you better displace your fear because the falls count anywhere match is no place for those with woes or fears. It's the playground for those confident enough to engage in such danger. Fear has no placed in such a brutual environment. Lets face it all envirments are brutial with the Doomriders running around. You're going to have no hope, no chance if you come in looking scared, looking fearful. See, if your scared then I an Billy Kryenik are going to run riot. If you're scared then you're going to be restricted of bringing all you have got to the ring. I know you inside out One and Two. Again and again I've penetrated your weaknesses and destroyed you inside the ring so what are the chances if you come to the ring with a look of fear in your eyes, surrounded by explosives, thumbtacks and barbwire god willingly. If you're not smart enough to make an assumption, I'll make one of you. The chances of you winning are very slim and the chances of you leaving unscarred, unblemished are slimmer because believe me... I have no soft spot for a losers like youselves and I will not back down and Billy sures in hell never backs down..
Deathrow looks into space as if expecting something to comment
Tommy Deathrow: One an Two, I suppose being the confident men you are, you probably believe that some how some way you two will beable to make it out of this match together as one. Some how pin Kryenik or I. But I promise there is no way that, that will happen. You see This is match three. Between us. As the old saying goes third times a charm. An the charm falls in the Doomriders Favor. I seen that the polls are looking almost fifty fifty. Such fool. How, Why would people honestly beleave that two grown men who deliver packages for a living would beable to overcome the obstical of beating only two true cannibals in the wrestling business.
Tommy Deathrow took a pack of ciggerates from his jeans pocket and opened them. He took one of them squeezes the filter and placed it between his lips and lit it with his lighter. He took a long drag and flicked some of the ash on the black bonnet of his rent car. He continued to speak after taking another drag of the ciggerate.
Tommy Deathrow: Despite a win against you guys you‘d think that it would motivate you guys yet, you're struggling to get up the flight of stairs that leads to glory. Everytime you get half way up the stairs and look confident to reach the top, I hit you in the face with a tin of paint. Kinda like Macoley Colkin... I knock you down the stairs to defend what's mine. The largest collection of Jack Hannah Zoo DVD‘s and a pet snapper turtle. Where ever he is. Also the place at the top of the tag team division that will vary soon be run by Billy Kryenik I’ll be there to though… Each time you fall down the flight of stairs appears to look bigger and bigger and it kind of frightens you. Face it Delivery boys, while I'm at the top with my tins of paint and other weapons... There is no way your getting to the top. To cut this extended metaphor short... Stick to wrestling the other no-hopers because there is no way in hell your taking my DVD, this week or the next.
And with that Tommy Deathrow took his ciggerate, DVD and whiskey and got back in the VW van. The cameras filmed him as he pulled out of the car park and drove into the distance. Jokers Wild was getting closer and Tommy Deathrow was growing ever more confident by the day... Would there be a shock at the end of the line? Who knows. All we know is that this man is on fire and doesn't look to be extinguished by anyway because there are no equations he can't simplify currently.