Post by Papi El Sueno on Oct 7, 2011 10:43:37 GMT -5
OOC: First things first. Even though he isn't registered on this bitch. I'd like to thank my good friend Mark for allowing me to use Israel Steele in this role-play. Yeah I know, it was basically done for LW's third show, but it never happened and I decided to use it against Ryan (which would've happened regardless).
Overall as a whole. This is my second to last RP ever for a competitive match. You all know I'm going to be retiring for good soon, and I might as well go out with a bang. ;D
Lastly. Good luck, Ryan. Hoping to see what you got RP wise.
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The scene opens up to the famous Bison's in Lawrenceburg, Indiana. Inside looks a bit similar to the old school tavern thing they had from back in the old days, along with an atmosphere of hard working men and women who just want to have a place to relax after a hard days work. J.T. Banks and Kevin Styles enter the bar. J.T. is clad in a black leather jacket with a white buttoned down t-shirt, jeans and boots with the LW Freedom Championship belt sitting on his shoulder. While Kevin is wearing a Slipknot t-shirt, ripped up jeans with a chain wallet on the side and biker boots. They are searching for somebody, and the bartender goes to ask them something.
Bartender: "Hello gentlemen. Are you guys looking for somebody?"
J.T. Banks: "We sure are. Have you seen Israel Steele around these parts?"
Bartender: "Why yes I have. He's sitting on the far side of the bar. May I ask why you are looking for him?"
J.T. Banks: "Other than being friends of his that go back a bit, we do want to catch up with him and tell him some things."
Bartender: "Oh okay. Wait, you two are wrestlers right?"
J.T. Banks: "Yup. You'd be correct."
Bartender: "I thought so. You two just look the part."
J.T. Banks: "Kev, should we tell him who we are?"
Kevin Styles: "I'd be down with that."
J.T. Banks: "Alright. I'm J.T. Banks. And my partner in crime is Kevin Styles."
Kevin Styles: "Yeah buddy. That's me."
Bartender: "Holy shit! I was talking to the greatest tag team of all time, and I didn't even know it. Damn, I feel like hell not knowing that."
J.T. Banks: "No hard feelings, bro. It was an honest mistake. But I am glad you're a fan of the work Kev and I have done for tag team wrestling."
Kevin Styles: "Word."
Bartender: "I am aware of possibly not paying attention, or just never hearing it. But why exactly did you two stop teaming?"
Kevin Styles: "I'll explain this one. There are a multitude of reasons why we've stopped teaming for the time being, if not for good. First being the extent of my injuries. I have herniated discs in my lower back and my spine has given me trouble.
Bartender: "Damn. What's the other reasons?"
J.T. Banks: "Now this is where I come in. Both Kev and I have aspirations to do some singles stuff since we have done it all as a tag team. With his injuries, I was the one that made the transition with him as my manager. It worked out pretty well. LW may have closed, but you can catch me on ECCW."
Bartender: "I see. Well I don't know how the hell to catch ECCW, but good luck to you gentlemen."
J.T. Banks: "Thanks, dude. And you can catch the shows on it's official site."
Bartender: "Will do, and thanks."
J.T. and Kevin walk away from the bar area, and decide to search for their friend. After a few minutes of searching. They just about to give up until they spot him. At the table the bartender told them about, Israel Steele is downing shots of Jim Beam. J.T. and Kevin look at their old Da Xtreme Dynasty teammate with a smirk as they have seen this before. They just watch and observe.
Israel Steele: "Holy fuck! That is some good shit."
J.T. and Kevin walk up and take a seat beside him. J.T. lays the Freedom title on the table and goes to speak to Izzy.
J.T. Banks: "Damn right it is, bro."
Israel Steele: "Holy shit! Kevin, J.T.!
Izzy shakes hands with J.T. and Kevin before speaking again.
Israel Steele: "What the hell are you guys doing here?"
J.T. Banks: "Well, this is on our way to Jacksonville for the third Libertarian Wrestling show, as well as being not too far from a certain fat piece of shit's house. We know this is a spot you always like to chill at. So we decided to come here and see how you were."
Kevin Styles: "Yeah. Lots of shit has changed since Cataclysm when we all were inducted into the PCW Hall of Fame."
Israel Steele: "True. Things have been poppin'. I like the peace and quiet out here. It's relaxing."
J.T. Banks: "This looks more like a Paul Blair type of hangout. No offense."
Israel Steele: "Haha! None taken, bro. Besides, I haven't seen my piece of shit brother here when I come anyways. So it even itself out."
J.T. Banks: "Good point! I take it you're done with the industry?"
Israel Steele: "I say more like a hiatus. Never say never on a return, but it's less likely right at the moment."
J.T. Banks: "Fair enough, fair enough."
Israel Steele: "I almost forgot to ask. Have you been pounding chicks into submission?"
J.T. Banks: "Haha! That's funny, dog. My playboy days are over right now."
Israel Steele: "Really now. What's the reason?"
J.T. Banks: "None at all."
Kevin Styles: "He got himself a girlfriend."
J.T. Banks: "Dog, I was leading to that point. No need for you to chime in."
Israel Steele: "That's cool dude. Congrats. Do I know her?"
J.T. Banks: "I think you do. Does the name Talia Skye ring a bell?"
Israel Steele: "Yes it does. She's actually pretty fine to be honest. You got a good fit."
J.T. Banks: "Thanks! I tell you. She's really special to me."
Israel Steele: "Anytime, mother fucker."
Kevin Styles: "Word is... He REALLY likes Talia."
Israel Steele: Aww that's so sweet. Our little J.T. is in love."
J.T. Banks: "Fuck you both! Why do I talk to you two jokers about this shit?"
Kevin Styles: "Because we're cool like that. That's why."
J.T. Banks: "Yeah... sure you are. Anyway, so Izzy. Want to come with us and mess with the big tittied mother fucker that used to own PCW?"
Kevin Styles: "Used to is right."
Israel Steele: "We get to fuck with the Taint and make his life hell once more?"
J.T. Banks: "Do bears fuck each other in the woods?"
Israel Steele: "Yes, and they fuck each other in other places too like tents."
J.T. Banks: "That's too much information, but I'll take that as a yes."
Israel Steele: "Damn right you will."
Kevin Styles: "Since all three of us are here together. Let's say we smoke a joint... for old times sake."
Israel Steele: "Oh hell yeah. I'm fucking down."
Kevin Styles: "J.T., are you in on this shit?"
J.T. Banks: "Don't go asking dumb questions you already know the answer to. Of course I'm down to smoke."
Kevin Styles: "Excellent. Let's go, bitches."
J.T., Kevin and Israel walk out of Bison's and immediately turn the corner behind the place. Kevin looks back around to see that nobody's coming. He pulls out a joint and a lighter from his pocket. He lights it up and takes a long inhale before exhaling, letting the smoke be blown away.
Kevin Styles: "Aw yeah! That's some good shit."
J.T. Banks: "Don't hog it all. Gimme some, mother fucker."
Kevin passes the joint to J.T., who immediately takes an inhale off of it before exhaling the smoke from his lungs.
J.T. Banks: "Damn, this shit is the bomb. It's been a while since I actually smoked something this good."
Israel Steele: "I want some."
J.T. passes it to Izzy, who repeats the same process. They repeat it until the joint is completely smoked out. By this point, all three of them are baked and stare at the stars in the sky. J.T. pats Kevin on the back as he proceeds to speak.
J.T. Banks: "We might be high as a mother fucker, but are we ready to do this shit?"
Kevin Styles: "Fuck yeah I am."
Israel Steele: "LET'S FUCKING DO THIS!!!"
Kevin Styles: "Not so loud mother fucker."
Israel Steele: "My bad. Damn!"
J.T., Kevin and Israel walk out of the alley and jump into a car. Kevin puts it into drive and from there, the car drives away. Eighteen hours later, over half a day. They arrive to a small suburban neighborhood in Las Vegas, Nevada. The car pulls up on the sidewalk, about close to the fence. The three of them get out and grab a few things. They're now decked out in all black clothing with black ski masks on their faces so their identity won't be revealed. They also have black backpacks on their backs that's filled with some stuff. They sneak around very quietly, trying to not get caught by any censors or security camera's. They eventually end up to the backdoor of the house. They then take their positions before taking a good long look around the corner to see if anybody is coming near them.
J.T. Banks: "Okay. The coast is clear."
Kevin Styles: "Now does everybody remember their assignments for this thing?"
Israel Steele: "Fuck yeah. We rob this mother fucker, and if the Taint comes out. We beat him like he stole something."
J.T. Banks: "I like yo style, my friend. Let's fucking do this."
The three of them bump knuckles and slowly sneak to the front of the display room. As they get there, Israel speaks up and asks a question.
Israel Steele: "Guys, how come our women never go along for these things?"
J.T. Banks: "Because not only do women not like participating in this type of stuff. But we don't necessarily want them to come with us on these adventures."
Kevin Styles: "Pretty much. That, and if we get caught. They got the wheels to bail us out."
Israel Steele: "Ah okay. Makes sense."
J.T. Banks: "Yeah. We're here. Now let's grab the shit and get the fuck out of dodge."
J.T., Kevin and Israel slowly sneak into the display room where there's a briefcase of money, some drugs and some sports memorabilia such as Baseball Cards, Football Cards, Autographed Jerseys, etc. A smile then appears on everybody's faces as they admire the items.
J.T. Banks: "God damn. Look at all this shit."
Kevin Styles: "I know! It's a gold mine."
J.T. Banks: "Not just any old goldmine. This shit is filled with stuff that's actually worth something. Surprised that fat mother fucker actually got shit like this."
Kevin Styles: "Yo! Check this out?"
Everybody rushes over to Kevin and they all see a near mint-mint professionally graded and authenticated T206 Honus Wagner rookie card in a glass container where it's never been touched.
J.T. Banks: "Tell me this isn't what I think it is."
Kevin Styles: "It is!"
J.T. Banks: "I didn't know this even existed. We have to take it."
Kevin Styles: "Are you insane?"
J.T. Banks (with a smirk on his face): "Damn right I am. Besides, this makes up for the lost time that we have right now."
Kevin Styles: "You have a point. I'll stand guard while you take the case."
J.T. starts to grab the glass case that contains the Honus Wagner rookie card, while Israel and Kevin start grabbing the rest of the stuff. Kevin also grabs the drugs and sticks them in his pocket. As soon as they all step out of the display room. An alarm goes off and everybody looks at each other.
Kevin Styles: "SHIT! It went off. What do we do?"
Israel Steele: "We can either make our escape and bounce the fuck out of here, or we can just beat the shit out of the Taint as he comes."
J.T. Banks: "As tempted as I am by the second offer. Alarms and other technology of this nature notifies the pigs of this shit. So we're going with the first one, and getting the fuck out of here."
Kevin Styles: "Good call, bro. Let's go!"
J.T., Kevin and Israel jump through a window with all the stuff in hand. From there, they get in a black 2009 Mercedes Benz M-Class and drive away without anybody finding out who truly robbed that house despite having a security alarm installed. From there, the scene fades out.
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"I fucking enjoyed the return of Elite Class Championship Wrestling! Come on, for those who had followed ECCW in the past. You always got high-impact action, no matter if the situation was calm or chaotic. And the first episode of ECCW: Resurrection didn't disappoint in that aspect. One, I was on commentary and we know how that went. Second, I helped kick some ass in that Beat the douche bag gauntlet match. Well I helped James's son out. Who wouldn't help a twelve year old out? Exactly! But we did get to see the final LW match in history when Talia, Danielle and I, along with a few good friends of ours from the old Da Xtreme Dynasty and Generation Next stables, beat the living shit out of JC Epick Failure and Stevie "don't call me" Wonder. It was fucking easy doing it. They didn't even put up a fight against any of us. It's quite fucking sad to know that ninety-five percent of WKF's roster are complete scrubs. My Granny's better than them, and she's ninety-nine years old. Oh well...
It's just easier to beat you clowns.
Also on the first ECCW show. I made a little challenge to one Ryan "The Reaper" Robinson. Many are wondering, why did you do that? You're clearly better than he is. I'm not going to disagree with that notion at all. I'm talented as can be. I'm one of the best in the god damn industry today, but I see potential in this guy. The guy has some talent, yet in that douche bag company known as Wrestling Queens Federation. The owner of the place buried him. Making him lose to untalented jackasses like Eric Snow, or Roger Ruiz. And get this... he was even made to lay down for fucking Syn, effectively losing his chance at the World Championship and making him nothing more than a god damn lackey in a below average stable.
You see something wrong with that?
I sure as hell do. Ryan, you're definitely above being anybody's bitch. You have the talent necessary to go out and do things on your own. WQF made you look like an abomination. If I were in the mindset of a fan. I wouldn't take you seriously, but when you came to LW, and then ECCW. That perception changed. You stood toe to toe with BLK in LW, and in ECCW... you beat the mother fucker and the people were behind you every step of the way. Don't go thinking that I'm kissing your ass, because that damn sure is not the case. No, I recognize talent and give credit when I need to. I don't do this for shits and grins, pal. That's not my style. But I'll be damned if I have to see anybody else in this business go through the bullshit you had to endure in that atrocity of a company. It's just not right. While you may be all psychotic and shit. I'm also a brutal man. I've gone through wars, and spilled buckets of blood. I'm not sure if you can really deal with the brutality aspect this business has to offer.
But I damn sure can.
It's pretty obvious what's on my resume and what type of matches I've competed in. I have won a total of six Hardcore Championships in my career. I've competed in Lumberjack matches, Hardcore matches, Whipping matches, Steel Cage Matches. You name the match. More likely than not, I've competed in it. I've done things that probably have shed a few years off my career, but at the end of the day. It was all worth it. Ryan, it's obvious as day that other than being Syn's lapdog, or rival... whatever the hell your relationship is with him. You haven't had your career defining moment. But guess what?
I'm here to give you just that.
I read somewhere that you are supposed to be this extremely spiritual dark magician/psychopath with a mild case of autism. Firstly, don't get it twisted. I respect anybody who has a mental disability and still goes out there and pursues his or her dream. A close friend of mine is autistic as well as bi-polar. Many fans happen to know him as "Da Xtreme Gangsta" James Baker, and the guy is a legend in this business. The king of mother fucking hardcore to be exact, as well as a fan favorite due in large part of his ability to inflict and endure extreme amounts of pain. The guy overcame a shit load of things, including being abandoned by his family... and now! He's rich, has a beautiful wife, and great kids. He's living the dream when many assumed it was impossible. So yes, I do respect people like him and everybody else who come from nothing, and are now somebody.
Secondly, this goes back to what I said earlier. How the hell can you be this magician/psychopathic guy when nobody is sure you can deal with inflicting/enduring brutality? Explain that one, son. Oh wait. You can't. At the same time, you state that you wouldn't acknowledge, or care if you injure your opponent, whether it'd be seriously or accidental. I'm not going to lie. I like to maim opponents. I find it satisfying to know what a person's actual limit is on punishment, but there's a difference between being crafty with it... and being reckless. You obviously have a ways to go as an in-ring competitor, so it's unknown at the moment. Unfortunately for you, we both know you aren't going to injure me. One being, you're just not capable of doing that. And two, if you even try to attempt it. I will injure you in a fucking heartbeat. It's almost like an eye for an eye in that situation.
Except I will be the one beating your ass to the punch.
In conclusion. Despite the fact that I have some form of respect for you. You're at a complete mis-match there, Ryan. Don't worry, I'm not going to put the blame on you for that. You're just up against somebody who is one of the best wrestler's in the world right now. Somebody who is already experiencing singles success despite getting back in the groove on how being a singles wrestler is like. In short, you're up against a man of destruction. And on the second episode of Resurrection! "The Punisher" will in fact take you to school and make you... just another victim. You being on that list is nothing personal... It's just business. And I'm going to take that WKF Rampage Championship from you... and then wipe my ass with it. Why?
Because I FUCKING CAN!!!
Prepare for annihilation at the hands of "The Punisher" J.T. Banks! BELIEVE THAT!!!"
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A day later, the scene comes back to reality as J.T. is now in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania where it is early morning. J.T. is in a pair of black shorts and doesn't have a shirt on, showing off his muscles and six pack. He has nothing or anybody from the night before with him which is more likely a good sign. He's currently on the phone... talking to Talia Skye.
J.T. Banks: "Babe, I can't wait for you to get here."
Talia Skye: "Don't worry. I'll be there once my flight lands."
J.T. Banks: "Promise?"
Talia Skye: "Of course. I have to go now. I miss you sooo much and when I get to Philadelphia. I will call you."
J.T. Banks: "I miss you too. And that sounds good. Bye sexy lady and be careful."
Talia Skye: "I will, hun. Bye."
The phone call ends. J.T. lays in his bed and goes to sleep. That's the last scene as we...
Fade to mother fucking black.
Overall as a whole. This is my second to last RP ever for a competitive match. You all know I'm going to be retiring for good soon, and I might as well go out with a bang. ;D
Lastly. Good luck, Ryan. Hoping to see what you got RP wise.
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The scene opens up to the famous Bison's in Lawrenceburg, Indiana. Inside looks a bit similar to the old school tavern thing they had from back in the old days, along with an atmosphere of hard working men and women who just want to have a place to relax after a hard days work. J.T. Banks and Kevin Styles enter the bar. J.T. is clad in a black leather jacket with a white buttoned down t-shirt, jeans and boots with the LW Freedom Championship belt sitting on his shoulder. While Kevin is wearing a Slipknot t-shirt, ripped up jeans with a chain wallet on the side and biker boots. They are searching for somebody, and the bartender goes to ask them something.
Bartender: "Hello gentlemen. Are you guys looking for somebody?"
J.T. Banks: "We sure are. Have you seen Israel Steele around these parts?"
Bartender: "Why yes I have. He's sitting on the far side of the bar. May I ask why you are looking for him?"
J.T. Banks: "Other than being friends of his that go back a bit, we do want to catch up with him and tell him some things."
Bartender: "Oh okay. Wait, you two are wrestlers right?"
J.T. Banks: "Yup. You'd be correct."
Bartender: "I thought so. You two just look the part."
J.T. Banks: "Kev, should we tell him who we are?"
Kevin Styles: "I'd be down with that."
J.T. Banks: "Alright. I'm J.T. Banks. And my partner in crime is Kevin Styles."
Kevin Styles: "Yeah buddy. That's me."
Bartender: "Holy shit! I was talking to the greatest tag team of all time, and I didn't even know it. Damn, I feel like hell not knowing that."
J.T. Banks: "No hard feelings, bro. It was an honest mistake. But I am glad you're a fan of the work Kev and I have done for tag team wrestling."
Kevin Styles: "Word."
Bartender: "I am aware of possibly not paying attention, or just never hearing it. But why exactly did you two stop teaming?"
Kevin Styles: "I'll explain this one. There are a multitude of reasons why we've stopped teaming for the time being, if not for good. First being the extent of my injuries. I have herniated discs in my lower back and my spine has given me trouble.
Bartender: "Damn. What's the other reasons?"
J.T. Banks: "Now this is where I come in. Both Kev and I have aspirations to do some singles stuff since we have done it all as a tag team. With his injuries, I was the one that made the transition with him as my manager. It worked out pretty well. LW may have closed, but you can catch me on ECCW."
Bartender: "I see. Well I don't know how the hell to catch ECCW, but good luck to you gentlemen."
J.T. Banks: "Thanks, dude. And you can catch the shows on it's official site."
Bartender: "Will do, and thanks."
J.T. and Kevin walk away from the bar area, and decide to search for their friend. After a few minutes of searching. They just about to give up until they spot him. At the table the bartender told them about, Israel Steele is downing shots of Jim Beam. J.T. and Kevin look at their old Da Xtreme Dynasty teammate with a smirk as they have seen this before. They just watch and observe.
Israel Steele: "Holy fuck! That is some good shit."
J.T. and Kevin walk up and take a seat beside him. J.T. lays the Freedom title on the table and goes to speak to Izzy.
J.T. Banks: "Damn right it is, bro."
Israel Steele: "Holy shit! Kevin, J.T.!
Izzy shakes hands with J.T. and Kevin before speaking again.
Israel Steele: "What the hell are you guys doing here?"
J.T. Banks: "Well, this is on our way to Jacksonville for the third Libertarian Wrestling show, as well as being not too far from a certain fat piece of shit's house. We know this is a spot you always like to chill at. So we decided to come here and see how you were."
Kevin Styles: "Yeah. Lots of shit has changed since Cataclysm when we all were inducted into the PCW Hall of Fame."
Israel Steele: "True. Things have been poppin'. I like the peace and quiet out here. It's relaxing."
J.T. Banks: "This looks more like a Paul Blair type of hangout. No offense."
Israel Steele: "Haha! None taken, bro. Besides, I haven't seen my piece of shit brother here when I come anyways. So it even itself out."
J.T. Banks: "Good point! I take it you're done with the industry?"
Israel Steele: "I say more like a hiatus. Never say never on a return, but it's less likely right at the moment."
J.T. Banks: "Fair enough, fair enough."
Israel Steele: "I almost forgot to ask. Have you been pounding chicks into submission?"
J.T. Banks: "Haha! That's funny, dog. My playboy days are over right now."
Israel Steele: "Really now. What's the reason?"
J.T. Banks: "None at all."
Kevin Styles: "He got himself a girlfriend."
J.T. Banks: "Dog, I was leading to that point. No need for you to chime in."
Israel Steele: "That's cool dude. Congrats. Do I know her?"
J.T. Banks: "I think you do. Does the name Talia Skye ring a bell?"
Israel Steele: "Yes it does. She's actually pretty fine to be honest. You got a good fit."
J.T. Banks: "Thanks! I tell you. She's really special to me."
Israel Steele: "Anytime, mother fucker."
Kevin Styles: "Word is... He REALLY likes Talia."
Israel Steele: Aww that's so sweet. Our little J.T. is in love."
J.T. Banks: "Fuck you both! Why do I talk to you two jokers about this shit?"
Kevin Styles: "Because we're cool like that. That's why."
J.T. Banks: "Yeah... sure you are. Anyway, so Izzy. Want to come with us and mess with the big tittied mother fucker that used to own PCW?"
Kevin Styles: "Used to is right."
Israel Steele: "We get to fuck with the Taint and make his life hell once more?"
J.T. Banks: "Do bears fuck each other in the woods?"
Israel Steele: "Yes, and they fuck each other in other places too like tents."
J.T. Banks: "That's too much information, but I'll take that as a yes."
Israel Steele: "Damn right you will."
Kevin Styles: "Since all three of us are here together. Let's say we smoke a joint... for old times sake."
Israel Steele: "Oh hell yeah. I'm fucking down."
Kevin Styles: "J.T., are you in on this shit?"
J.T. Banks: "Don't go asking dumb questions you already know the answer to. Of course I'm down to smoke."
Kevin Styles: "Excellent. Let's go, bitches."
J.T., Kevin and Israel walk out of Bison's and immediately turn the corner behind the place. Kevin looks back around to see that nobody's coming. He pulls out a joint and a lighter from his pocket. He lights it up and takes a long inhale before exhaling, letting the smoke be blown away.
Kevin Styles: "Aw yeah! That's some good shit."
J.T. Banks: "Don't hog it all. Gimme some, mother fucker."
Kevin passes the joint to J.T., who immediately takes an inhale off of it before exhaling the smoke from his lungs.
J.T. Banks: "Damn, this shit is the bomb. It's been a while since I actually smoked something this good."
Israel Steele: "I want some."
J.T. passes it to Izzy, who repeats the same process. They repeat it until the joint is completely smoked out. By this point, all three of them are baked and stare at the stars in the sky. J.T. pats Kevin on the back as he proceeds to speak.
J.T. Banks: "We might be high as a mother fucker, but are we ready to do this shit?"
Kevin Styles: "Fuck yeah I am."
Israel Steele: "LET'S FUCKING DO THIS!!!"
Kevin Styles: "Not so loud mother fucker."
Israel Steele: "My bad. Damn!"
J.T., Kevin and Israel walk out of the alley and jump into a car. Kevin puts it into drive and from there, the car drives away. Eighteen hours later, over half a day. They arrive to a small suburban neighborhood in Las Vegas, Nevada. The car pulls up on the sidewalk, about close to the fence. The three of them get out and grab a few things. They're now decked out in all black clothing with black ski masks on their faces so their identity won't be revealed. They also have black backpacks on their backs that's filled with some stuff. They sneak around very quietly, trying to not get caught by any censors or security camera's. They eventually end up to the backdoor of the house. They then take their positions before taking a good long look around the corner to see if anybody is coming near them.
J.T. Banks: "Okay. The coast is clear."
Kevin Styles: "Now does everybody remember their assignments for this thing?"
Israel Steele: "Fuck yeah. We rob this mother fucker, and if the Taint comes out. We beat him like he stole something."
J.T. Banks: "I like yo style, my friend. Let's fucking do this."
The three of them bump knuckles and slowly sneak to the front of the display room. As they get there, Israel speaks up and asks a question.
Israel Steele: "Guys, how come our women never go along for these things?"
J.T. Banks: "Because not only do women not like participating in this type of stuff. But we don't necessarily want them to come with us on these adventures."
Kevin Styles: "Pretty much. That, and if we get caught. They got the wheels to bail us out."
Israel Steele: "Ah okay. Makes sense."
J.T. Banks: "Yeah. We're here. Now let's grab the shit and get the fuck out of dodge."
J.T., Kevin and Israel slowly sneak into the display room where there's a briefcase of money, some drugs and some sports memorabilia such as Baseball Cards, Football Cards, Autographed Jerseys, etc. A smile then appears on everybody's faces as they admire the items.
J.T. Banks: "God damn. Look at all this shit."
Kevin Styles: "I know! It's a gold mine."
J.T. Banks: "Not just any old goldmine. This shit is filled with stuff that's actually worth something. Surprised that fat mother fucker actually got shit like this."
Kevin Styles: "Yo! Check this out?"
Everybody rushes over to Kevin and they all see a near mint-mint professionally graded and authenticated T206 Honus Wagner rookie card in a glass container where it's never been touched.
J.T. Banks: "Tell me this isn't what I think it is."
Kevin Styles: "It is!"
J.T. Banks: "I didn't know this even existed. We have to take it."
Kevin Styles: "Are you insane?"
J.T. Banks (with a smirk on his face): "Damn right I am. Besides, this makes up for the lost time that we have right now."
Kevin Styles: "You have a point. I'll stand guard while you take the case."
J.T. starts to grab the glass case that contains the Honus Wagner rookie card, while Israel and Kevin start grabbing the rest of the stuff. Kevin also grabs the drugs and sticks them in his pocket. As soon as they all step out of the display room. An alarm goes off and everybody looks at each other.
Kevin Styles: "SHIT! It went off. What do we do?"
Israel Steele: "We can either make our escape and bounce the fuck out of here, or we can just beat the shit out of the Taint as he comes."
J.T. Banks: "As tempted as I am by the second offer. Alarms and other technology of this nature notifies the pigs of this shit. So we're going with the first one, and getting the fuck out of here."
Kevin Styles: "Good call, bro. Let's go!"
J.T., Kevin and Israel jump through a window with all the stuff in hand. From there, they get in a black 2009 Mercedes Benz M-Class and drive away without anybody finding out who truly robbed that house despite having a security alarm installed. From there, the scene fades out.
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"I fucking enjoyed the return of Elite Class Championship Wrestling! Come on, for those who had followed ECCW in the past. You always got high-impact action, no matter if the situation was calm or chaotic. And the first episode of ECCW: Resurrection didn't disappoint in that aspect. One, I was on commentary and we know how that went. Second, I helped kick some ass in that Beat the douche bag gauntlet match. Well I helped James's son out. Who wouldn't help a twelve year old out? Exactly! But we did get to see the final LW match in history when Talia, Danielle and I, along with a few good friends of ours from the old Da Xtreme Dynasty and Generation Next stables, beat the living shit out of JC Epick Failure and Stevie "don't call me" Wonder. It was fucking easy doing it. They didn't even put up a fight against any of us. It's quite fucking sad to know that ninety-five percent of WKF's roster are complete scrubs. My Granny's better than them, and she's ninety-nine years old. Oh well...
It's just easier to beat you clowns.
Also on the first ECCW show. I made a little challenge to one Ryan "The Reaper" Robinson. Many are wondering, why did you do that? You're clearly better than he is. I'm not going to disagree with that notion at all. I'm talented as can be. I'm one of the best in the god damn industry today, but I see potential in this guy. The guy has some talent, yet in that douche bag company known as Wrestling Queens Federation. The owner of the place buried him. Making him lose to untalented jackasses like Eric Snow, or Roger Ruiz. And get this... he was even made to lay down for fucking Syn, effectively losing his chance at the World Championship and making him nothing more than a god damn lackey in a below average stable.
You see something wrong with that?
I sure as hell do. Ryan, you're definitely above being anybody's bitch. You have the talent necessary to go out and do things on your own. WQF made you look like an abomination. If I were in the mindset of a fan. I wouldn't take you seriously, but when you came to LW, and then ECCW. That perception changed. You stood toe to toe with BLK in LW, and in ECCW... you beat the mother fucker and the people were behind you every step of the way. Don't go thinking that I'm kissing your ass, because that damn sure is not the case. No, I recognize talent and give credit when I need to. I don't do this for shits and grins, pal. That's not my style. But I'll be damned if I have to see anybody else in this business go through the bullshit you had to endure in that atrocity of a company. It's just not right. While you may be all psychotic and shit. I'm also a brutal man. I've gone through wars, and spilled buckets of blood. I'm not sure if you can really deal with the brutality aspect this business has to offer.
But I damn sure can.
It's pretty obvious what's on my resume and what type of matches I've competed in. I have won a total of six Hardcore Championships in my career. I've competed in Lumberjack matches, Hardcore matches, Whipping matches, Steel Cage Matches. You name the match. More likely than not, I've competed in it. I've done things that probably have shed a few years off my career, but at the end of the day. It was all worth it. Ryan, it's obvious as day that other than being Syn's lapdog, or rival... whatever the hell your relationship is with him. You haven't had your career defining moment. But guess what?
I'm here to give you just that.
I read somewhere that you are supposed to be this extremely spiritual dark magician/psychopath with a mild case of autism. Firstly, don't get it twisted. I respect anybody who has a mental disability and still goes out there and pursues his or her dream. A close friend of mine is autistic as well as bi-polar. Many fans happen to know him as "Da Xtreme Gangsta" James Baker, and the guy is a legend in this business. The king of mother fucking hardcore to be exact, as well as a fan favorite due in large part of his ability to inflict and endure extreme amounts of pain. The guy overcame a shit load of things, including being abandoned by his family... and now! He's rich, has a beautiful wife, and great kids. He's living the dream when many assumed it was impossible. So yes, I do respect people like him and everybody else who come from nothing, and are now somebody.
Secondly, this goes back to what I said earlier. How the hell can you be this magician/psychopathic guy when nobody is sure you can deal with inflicting/enduring brutality? Explain that one, son. Oh wait. You can't. At the same time, you state that you wouldn't acknowledge, or care if you injure your opponent, whether it'd be seriously or accidental. I'm not going to lie. I like to maim opponents. I find it satisfying to know what a person's actual limit is on punishment, but there's a difference between being crafty with it... and being reckless. You obviously have a ways to go as an in-ring competitor, so it's unknown at the moment. Unfortunately for you, we both know you aren't going to injure me. One being, you're just not capable of doing that. And two, if you even try to attempt it. I will injure you in a fucking heartbeat. It's almost like an eye for an eye in that situation.
Except I will be the one beating your ass to the punch.
In conclusion. Despite the fact that I have some form of respect for you. You're at a complete mis-match there, Ryan. Don't worry, I'm not going to put the blame on you for that. You're just up against somebody who is one of the best wrestler's in the world right now. Somebody who is already experiencing singles success despite getting back in the groove on how being a singles wrestler is like. In short, you're up against a man of destruction. And on the second episode of Resurrection! "The Punisher" will in fact take you to school and make you... just another victim. You being on that list is nothing personal... It's just business. And I'm going to take that WKF Rampage Championship from you... and then wipe my ass with it. Why?
Because I FUCKING CAN!!!
Prepare for annihilation at the hands of "The Punisher" J.T. Banks! BELIEVE THAT!!!"
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A day later, the scene comes back to reality as J.T. is now in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania where it is early morning. J.T. is in a pair of black shorts and doesn't have a shirt on, showing off his muscles and six pack. He has nothing or anybody from the night before with him which is more likely a good sign. He's currently on the phone... talking to Talia Skye.
J.T. Banks: "Babe, I can't wait for you to get here."
Talia Skye: "Don't worry. I'll be there once my flight lands."
J.T. Banks: "Promise?"
Talia Skye: "Of course. I have to go now. I miss you sooo much and when I get to Philadelphia. I will call you."
J.T. Banks: "I miss you too. And that sounds good. Bye sexy lady and be careful."
Talia Skye: "I will, hun. Bye."
The phone call ends. J.T. lays in his bed and goes to sleep. That's the last scene as we...
Fade to mother fucking black.
