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Post by Rock N' Roll God on Aug 13, 2023 17:48:14 GMT -6
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Post by roguehorsemen on Sept 19, 2023 8:17:05 GMT -6
{The screen fades in and we find ourselves inside of the famed Burlesque Tokyo in famed Roppongi district where we see a massive party going on with the club's famed burlesque dancers enjoying themselves as they dance the night away until we finally reach a private room that overlooks the club proper and a table with the identical titles on it-the ECWF World Trios titles-as the music from the club fades slowly into the background as the camera pans left to show us the members of the Rogue Horsemen in the forms of David and Patrick Slayton of the Dynasty tag team along with Robert Armstrong. Both of the Slayton brothers are relaxing and enjoying themselves while Robert is standing off to one side, looking more than ready for a fight}
David: Hello ECWF. It's been a long while and as you can see your trios champions are rested and ready for the next fight ahead...
Patrick: I think that you're being too generous because all Crystal and Tara look like is that they should be enjoying some time in my presence...especially Crystal..
David: Manners, my dear brother, manners. I mean the Varsity is our scheduled opponents for the pay per view and to belittle them, to think nothing of them other than Coach Huey is trying to be a scholastic poser of a pimp is a bit distracting...but if that is his big plan on how to take these trios titles from us at Anarchy, then he's got a completely different thing coming now doesn't he, gentlemen?
Rob: That's one way of putting it, David. But accurate nonetheless because while he no doubt has been strutting those two girls that are by his side, we've been waiting silently for him to say anything...anything at all to justify the reason why that we are facing you and those two girls at Anarchy.
Is it because the rest of this promotion's roster understands that we're not just going to stand here and look pretty with these championships, but instead we're going to go out there each and every show and be dominant with them?? To highlight what the real wrestlers in this promotion look like?!
David: A fair question, isn't?
Rob: Exactly, and here we are with the pay per view right around the corner and the Rogues more than willing to stand up for our division here in the ECWF and step up, ready and able for a fight do we find our opponents doing nothing more than wetting their collectives sets of panties at the mere thought of being put through the meat grinder and coming out the other side nothing more than pulped and gnashed raw meat.
Patrick: Dude Rob, are you hungry or what?
{Rob gets a little bit of a sheepish look on his face before he turns and looks at his cohorts}
Rob: A little bit, sorry.
Patrick: Nah it's good because it reflects on how serious this shit is, so let me lay it down thick on you all here right and now. Now we can beat this concept that the Rogues are the truly superior force to be reckoned with here in the Extreme Championship Wrestling Federation until the cows come home to roost but that does subtract from the fucking concept that each and every time that we've been put out there to defend our titles that we do nothing but succeed each and every time.
And that's because we do our best talking with these.
{Patrick holds up both of his fists for the camera to see. Large, knotted, and scarred from a long career of violence in the sport of professional wrestling}
Patrick: These are good, big, strong hands. These are the hands of someone who has thrown down with some of the biggest and sickest internationally. From Japan to Canada and all parts in between, I've earned my stripes in this sport...as has my brother, our cousin, and our man Rob there!! We've earned our stripes and we continue to do just that!
Prove why we are the most dangerous set of bastards in this company, and why we deserve to go against the best that this company has to offer each and every time that ECWF has a show and why that’s not us just bragging or anything like so many others here in this promotion due and then not back up what they say, because you get back what you put in and what we put in is one hellacious war after another and what we get back is the accolades, the respect, and the recognition that this industry thrives on, and unlike so many fuckers here in this company that just seem to sit back and let their past victories speak for themselves in the past as opposed to also standing up and taking what could be theirs's right here in the present.
Right now, I wanna shout out to the Age of the Fall! Hey Dan Anderson and Roxanne, if you two manage to get past the Arkham siblings at Anarchy...then consider yourselves as of right now officially put on NOTICE that the Dynasty is looking to collect the ECWF World Tag Team championships and add them to our already very expansive list of titles internationally.
Now the two of you can either graciously accept with the very first words to come out of your collective mouths the very next time that you appear on ECWF television, and that means that you ACCEPT our challenge before you even try to cut anything promo wise on the Disciples...or we drop the masks and you two find out exactly why we were both feared and respected internationally.
Rob: Pretty strong words there, partner...fair but strong. And just like my both Patrick and David, I think I might throw a little something something out there as well because you see, while I do love the look of the Trios title stretched out all nice and fine over my sexy right shoulder...but now I'm starting to feel that my left shoulder needs a little something as well.
So I'm throwing out an open challenge to whomever wins the National championship match at Anarchy, be it Lucian Reinhardt, Cole Anderson, Lilith Leviathan, Dark Tiger, or even Latoya Hixx-it doesn't matter who wins in the end because I will make you scream in delicious agony before I snap you and lay claim to what is rightfully mine in the end.
David: Oi, hold on a second Robert. What if that cereal freak Dode wins the match?
Rob: You mean the ass clown that tortured that girl and then offed her thinking that it'll scare everyone into not showing up for the rumble match for the National title?
David: Yeah, that one.
Rob: There is no honesty way in hell that a nothing like Abrom Dode will come out of that match as the National champion, what do you think that this fed is...Extremely Awful Wrestling from up north or some shit like that, David?
No! If Dode thinks that he'll scare his way into winning a title then he's got a completely different thing coming and if *I* have to interject myself into the battle royal to determine the first ECWF National champion because not a single one of you other mother fuckers in that entire *MATCH* don't want to get off your collective asses, then not only will I do just that but I will also win the entire damned thing, claim *MY* National title, and then go on with the two of you to keep *OUR* World Trios titles from little boy Huey Duck and his so called "Varsity Club" because that's the kind of Bastards that we are!!
{David's face breaks out into a huge smile as he stands up and places a hand onto Rob's left shoulder}
David: And that's why, ladies and gentlemen, the Rogue Horsemen are going to walk into Anarchy as your Trios champions...and leave the exact same damn way.
Patrick: Pride in our dedication to violence.
Rob: Testify my brothers!
{The screen then fades to black}
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Post by Deleted on Sept 30, 2023 9:31:44 GMT -6
**The scene opens to loud laughter's along with multiple glass mugs clinking against each other. Clearly, sounds you would hear inside a pub. And this was exactly what it was with its dim lights, wooden walls decorated with a bunch of 90's and 00's rock memorabilia, a radio station bumping out all of the rock classics, and four billiards tables, each one with a large crowd around them. One of these tables was rather popular than the rest, the one in the corner by the TV playing a football game, particularly because of the pool player who was slaying anyone that stepped up to her. The preppy blonde pool player happened to be Cheerleader Crystal, lining up her cue stick with her target ball. And Sitting on a stool not far from her, leaned back and sipping on a root beer was her partner in crime, Tara. As soon as Crystal wins the game by getting the last of her balls in, she takes a sip of her Alamo to the mixture of cheering and upset groaning, most likely bet-takers.** Jock: Are you freakin' kidding me... I just lost $50 on this shit... Fifty dollars, give me a freakin' break!**It all started with a typical, simple hustle: Tara would go around, taking bets and playing lousily on purpose. She would collect a huge amount of debt but before she had to pay it off, she'd opted for one more game, a double or nothing game. The Jocks were slightly intrigued, but they were totally sold on the idea when Tara told them they wouldn't be taking her on... But instead her partner in crime, Crystal. Their macho egos eventually got the best of them. Crystal was actually an avid billiards player, picking a few pointers when it came to hustling. The stack of money, which came out to a juicy $985, is presented to her, to which she passes on to Tara, who starts counting the bills to make sure of the amount. It's here where they're approached by an angry jock who looked anything but happy about what just happened. Not only that, from the looks of this guy and the varsity jacket, he appeared to be the town’s quarter back star. Still, Crystal kept smiling, while Tara in her Sex Pistol shirt and denim short shorts looked on completely unimpressed.** Big Jock: Listen up, you two... you Just made a sucker out of me not just in front of my buddies but in front of my girlfriend! Don’t you know who I am?! My dad’s the mayor!
**As the large Jock went on, Crystal stared back, still smiling as she leaned on her cue stick while Tara acted interested with her hand on her cheek, neither caring about what the big lug had to say. The Jock notices this and it starts pissing him off. Who the hell were these two bimbos? He had heard some talk about them being "cheerleaders," but to him they looked hardly like cheerleaders and more like TikTok Influencers. The jock goes on though, keeping his anger contained.** Big Jock: I should have both your asses arrested and thrown in jail…but that’d be letting you off too easy.
**He then pulls a switchblade out with a cold grin.** Big Jock: So now How bouts you hand over the cash and I don't cut that pretty lil' face up, blondie?Perv Jock: YEAH! and how bouts we make these skinny ass bitches give us a free lap dance and buy each of us a free drinks?**The jocks holler and high five each other as they stand behind their 'fearless' leader, encircling The Vixen broads. Was this guy for real? Crystal thought as she wanted to laugh out loud but held it in. The insecurity levels were off the charts. Crystal then turns to Tara, still with a smiling face.** Crystal: I think he's mad…Tara: Sounds mad.**As soon as Crystal turns back to face the angry jock, she jams her cue stick right into the belly button of his fat gut, making him bend over in total pain. The other jocks watched in awe. Here was someone who was known for his popularity as a star quarter back and his affluence, brought down to his knees. The switchblade had gone flying up in the air and Tara manages to catch it in her hand, slowly pointing it across every jock who had surrounded them as she spoke to them in a shrieking manner.** Tara: ALRIGHT, EVERYONE LISTEN UP!! THAT JUST HAPPENED AND THIS BABY'S OUT FOR BLOOD, WHO'S FIRST TO STEP UP, HUH?? HUH!!?? Yeah, that's right cowards!! BAR OWNER: HEY. The cops are on the way, I suggest you take that outside right now! Get Out!!Fat Jock: Crap. I don’t want my mum finding out I was here. let's get the hell out of here!
**The jocks start rushing outside, two of them carrying their star quarter back with an arm over each shoulder. The bar was nearly empty without the jocks there, it was just an old man finally getting to play pool, even if it was by himself, a passed out guy at the bar, and the old bar owner who glared at the girls with crossed arms, waiting for them to leave. Crystal just sneers with a smirk and then chugs away at what was left her Alamo beer. The bar owner was gonna say something, but remembers the pocket switchblade in Tara’s hand. Crystal downs her beer to its last drop before slamming the empty mug down the pool table.** Crystal: Aww, just when it was getting fun, but that weird old fart over there had to go and ruin everything... Mmmm, but $985... Not bad for one night, eh?**the blonde then hands over a crumpled up $50 dollar bill to her Vixxxy’ companion.** Crystal: And Something for your troubles, my bestie 4 life.**Crystal smacks Tara’s cheek playfully as she makes a disgusted face at the cut she received for her hustle.** Tara: Seriously? 50 Bucks?!! I suffered through 12 morons who moved slower than an amputated grandma to get you that letdown of a final game.**Crystal waves a dismissive hand at Tara while counting the cash.** Crystal: I'll play you for it, double or nothing. And besides, I need some of this to splurge for that cute mini dress I saw at the mall the other day. I swear these babysitting gigs we be doing isn’t really cutting it.**Two cute guys then enter the bar, checking Crystal over in her small black top that barely contained her bust, to the tiny red skirt that showed off her long, shapely legs. Crystal responded with her flirtatious smile and winks at the pair as Tara waved at their direction.** Tara: Ahh…Look at us... two cheerleaders…Scrapping, hustling money, fighting jocks in shitty bars out of their money... Makes me think we should REALLY be focusing on our match with those Rouge Horsemen clowns? You know, so we can add more belts to our trophy case?Crystal: Focusing on what? Three overgrown Neanderthals bragging and puffing’s their chests out to make themselves look mean and scary? PFFFT... last time I checked they haven't beaten anyone important or noteworthy on our radar. We on the other hand are the elite. We have beaten the best of the best! Our PCW track record speaks for itself. So, what if they wrestled in Japan, throwing hands with some thong wearing sumo fatties in their spare time?! Is that ‘spose to impress us?! I think not!Tara: Exactly! Before PCW folded, We were the IT team on the scene. We were defending our tag team belts, night-after-night, beating those Age of Fall chumps and those Kingdom dimwits back-to-back. Pretty much the same dweebs these ‘horsemanures’ beat in their mediocre run in ECWF. They’re just simply mocking us with their oily, greasy roided up bodies and their ten cent brains. Crystal: You said it, sister. Now come. Let's get the hell out of here. The stench of this place is making me nauseous. And besides, we have early practice in the morning. Coach Huey will flip his lid if we’re late again.**Crystal finishes counting the wad of money, stacking them up neatly, before folding it and then sticking it inside her bra. Tara then hops down from her stool and walks with Crystal for the exit, but not before leaving a generous tip for the bartender. As the ladies step out of the pub, two squad cars pull up onto the scene as cops get out with their guns drawn. POLICE OFFICER #1 "PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR AND GET DOWN ON THE GROUND! NOW!!"**Crystal brought her hand up to her face, shielding her eyes from the bright glares of the red and blue flashing lights while Tara stared at the cops with a deer caught in a headlight expression. ** Crystal: Officers…we didn’t do anything wrong. Tara: Yeah, like, we’re just cute cheerleaders past our curfew.POLICE OFFICER #2 AHHH Look she’s got a weapon!**Tara looks at the switchblade in her hand, but she barely has time to react when she feels something sharp pricked into her bare left thighs. ** Tara: Oh sh…**It was at that moment that Tara felt a burst of electricity zap through her body as she fell face-first to the asphalt, rolling around and screeching in pain.** **Then Crystal felt two tiny bites on her ass as well. The next moment, she felt a powerful jolt running up her ass and then throughout her body. “EEEEKKK!” She screamed, and then she was down, falling heavily onto the floor, her body convulsing from the Taser charge that had been shot into her body. And from there everything for the cocky cheerleaders went a blur....** THE NEXT MORNING! "Rise and Shine ladies!" **A guard at the County Jail barked out, pulling the girls out of bed and to attention. A key entered the lock of his cell, and the large iron door was swung open.** GUARD: You two have made bail. **The girls raised an eyebrow, but certainly knew better than to question. Being led out of the cell to a visitor's area, they could see who it was that had bailed him: unsurprisingly, it was Coach Huey. This early in the morning, he hadn't even bothered to change out of his pajamas but did manage to throw on his preppy red V- necked argyle sweater and a pair of loafers. The girls knew the look on his face. It was an unamused one. In an uncomfortable silence, the guard had returned with a box containing their cellphones, and a few other sundries, which the girls quickly pocketed.** GUARD: They’re all yours, Coach. COACH HUEY: Much obliged, sir. **The Guard nodded before heading away, leaving Coach Huey to turn his attention to the girls with a disappointed look on his face and a slow headshake.** COACH HUEY: I’m very disappointed in you, girls. Underage drinking? Assault with a deadly weapon? Hustling?! Cutting classes? Skipping cheer practices? I’m beginning to wonder whether this is a cry for attention or just hormonal changes you two are exhibiting. Where did I go wrong with you wayward girls? Where?! Crystal: It’s not like that, coach. Honest to god we were just preparing for our SATs when these dumb jocks begin harassing us and bragging on and on like how those rouge horsemen were better than us and how we didn’t stand a chance, and how they were gonna annihilate and kick our butts because we’re just ‘dumb’ cheerleaders in their eyes.**Coach Huey becomes incensed upon hearing that as his face slowly morphs to a red with steam literally coming out of his ears.** COACH HUEY: Those sons of b*tches said that?! How dare they disrespect us and the good sport of cheerleading?!**Seeing Coach Huey mad, Tara tunes up the waterworks as she begins to sob uncontrollably with her fake cries.** Tara: Not only that…one of those horsemen creeps even called you a scholastic poser of a pimp, and that they would have a ravishing good time putting their meaty hands on our flexible bodies to try and ‘manhandle’ us in the ring. **Crystal lends her handkerchief over to Tara and massages her back to comfort her.** Crystal: I think they just wanna violate us, Coach Huey. They can’t seem to keep their dicks in check with all their misogynistic talks, and sexist comments. COACH HUEY: That does it! I can’t keep radio silent any further! They got jokes…well we’re gonna give them a punch-line when we dance all over their faces and give them a Varsity Club size ass whooping they’ll never forget! We’re gonna give them a hell of a fight, pound each of their faces into the dirt, and take those trio belts!Tara: Does this mean cheer practice is cancelled?COACH HUEY: No! We’ll be doing that along with training and preparing for this match like it’s our last. We’re clearly the underdogs here, but we won’t give them the satisfaction. They’ll not know what hit em’…because they don’t have what we have..and what we have is Heart!!**Crystal then sticks her hand out, leading up to a cheer.** Crystal: Stand up, it's time to shout Come on fam, Yell it out Say it loud Say it proud Go Varsity! Go! Go! Go!Tara: two, four, six, eight Who do we appreciate? Not the horse, Not those men, Only us, let's give them hell! **And with that, the fierce trio stand proud with their heads held high and a newfound confidence and purpose to become the new ECWF Trio’s Tag Team Champions, sending the scene to fade**
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