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| The Hazard |
Apr 07, 09 at 1:41am ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Log in to remove this advertisement Lillian: Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present to you... Mike Adamle! Mixed reactions make surface. The boos are slowly overpowering though, as many know this man's clumsy and annoying attitude. Mike steps out from behind the curtains with a billion-dollar smile, one which can make the average individual cringe. He walks down the ramp, proud of himself, rearranging his tie and suit. As he casually walks down the ramp with no music, the fans let him have it. He walks to the end of the apron, walks up the steel steps and enters the ring very casually. There's no music playing at all, which makes the entrance seem quite bizarre. Hart: It's Mike Adamle, I wonder what he wants to address. DiBiase: Hopefully it concerns Jericho, I wonder where that guy has been... Hart: Indeed, that raises a question. Nonetheless, let's hear what this man has to say. DiBiase: I don't get the hate, Adamle is great! He's generous, caring, sensible... Hart: I don't think Jericho and Mickie James share the same opinion. DiBiase: Screw them! They couldn't appreciate how great this man is. Adamle sets himself in the middle of the ring after he's asked for a microphone and received one. The crowd slowly dies down as they see he is ready to speak. Without wasting any time, Adamle levels the mic up to his mouth and begins. Adamle: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to another exciting edition of TWG and I hope you all have a great time tonight. [mixed reactions as Adamle grins] Really, tonight's draft show is said to be incredible, and there's a lot of things planned for tonight. I know a bit of what the future announcements entail, and I have to say some of them will knock your socks off. Unfortunately, for obvious reasons I cannot say. A-- Mike Adamle slowly stops talking as he frowns his eyebrows for a certain reason. That reason happens to be that 20,000 people in the arena are chanting "you suck" in unceremonious fashion. Adamle looks around him, perplexed and pensive. Suddenly, his eyebrows flatten as a light shines in his mind, realizing something. Adamle: Oh, I get it. I know what's going on here. Many people in the crowd are somewhat glad he's gotten the damn hint. About time. Adamle: It's about Jericho, isn't it? You people are wanting to hear so bad about his whereabouts! Well... at least the fans tried. As expected, the boos resume as Adamle nods before continuing valiantly and cheerfully. Adamle: Well, Chris Jericho has taken a bit of time off. He's burned out from the business and decided to take a break, although with the new season of TWG he could be back anytime now! It can be a matter of weeks, or months. Wouldn't it be great if he was here tonight, though? [Adamle grins] He's such a great man. I've always respected Chris Jericho, more than anyone else in the back. He is a great performer, a tough and determined competitor and a hell of a talker on the microphone. He can back it up, not many can. And to anyone who thinks otherwise, I dare you to prove me wrong. While the fans approve of the Jericho comments, they disapprove onto how hard this man in the ring is brownnosing him, and has been doing so for the past few months. Brown nosing makes anyone sick to their stomach, no matter who it is and towards who it's directed to. Obviously, Mike is oblivious to that... DiBiase: He's right, I must admit. And I thought everyone agreed with him, why is he getting this reaction!? Hart: Ugh... Adamle: But hey, the important thing is, he WILL be back. And when he does, I hope he remains as talented and consistent as he is now. He's the shining light of the business, and honestly, is there anyone who could... Suddenly, Adamle stops talking for the second time as he turns his head around and stares at the Titantron, which is displaying something else... outside. It shows the outside parts of the arena, and the camera zooms onto the entrance from the parking lot. Mike Adamle lowers the microphone off his mouth and looks on along with the crowd as a sound is heard. A screeching sound.  DiBiase: A.. a car? Who's in it? Hart: Could it be...!? Moments pass which seem an eternity as Adamle and the entire crowd glares at the Tron, wondering who is behind that wheel. Will that faded window lower down? Doesn't seem like it. Suddenly, the car takes a dive into the backdoor entrance of the arena! The screeching sounds persist until the Tron cuts back to Adamle's perplexed visage. Adamle: Uh... heh, I don't know what that was all about, but anyway. What I mean to tell you people is to sit back, get comfortable and get ready because TWG will soon rise up and things will get crazier than ever. That's right, even more than before. And-- *GLASS SHATTERS*  Hart: WHAT THE!?!? On an instant, the crowd went to quiet, grim and unresponsive to excited, loud and alive. The familar theme music hits as one of the greatest performers ever enters the stage, staring a hole onto the man in the ring as always. The Titantron video is shown with grace and excitement. The fans are on their feet; this was huge! Hart: IT'S STONE COLD STEVE AUSTIN! DiBiase: What the hell is he doing here!? Hart: The fans are going ballistic! And look at Adamle! DiBiase: This is unbelievable!! Austin turns his head around as he glares at several parts of the crowd going crazy for him. He swaggers down the ramp carelessly as he reaches the end of the apron, climbs the steel steps and enters the ring as Adamle looks like he just shat his pants. Stone Cold climbs the first turnbuckle and taunts to the packed crowd, pulling out their digital cameras and arms. He repeats the pattern on the three other turnbuckles before coming face-to-face with Mike. The theme music dies down and all that's left are cheers and huge "Austin" chants. A solemn Stone Cold glares Mike with daggering eyes before snatching the microphone off him and immediately addressing. Stone Cold: ......... He was about to say something but quickly retracts and shakes his head in disappointment with a fiendish grin forming on his face as he brushes his scalp a bit. The cheers somewhat continue, while a bit dwindled. Austin finally puts it together and stares back at Adamle. Stone Cold: You sorry son of a bitch... Approbation is heard from the packed crowd as a confused Adamle looks around, wondering if all this is a joke. He demands another microphone to be handed to him, and slowly responds to an immobile Austin. Adamle: May I he-- Stone Cold: What? [crowd cheers] I can't hear you, speak up. Adamle: I SAID I-- Stone Cold: Shut up. You're pathetic. [WHAT?] You're nothin'. [WHAT?] You make me sick. [WHAT?] You know what, I knew your ass would come out here, start kissin' ass, talkin' shit over and over and over again. No, really. What the hell is wrong with you? Adamle: Huh? Uh-- Stone Cold: Shut up. What the hell is wrong with you? [alters tone of voice] Oh, Y2J is the best, Y2J's phenomenal, he's charismatic, he's consistent, wah wah WAH. [normal voice] What's the deal? You think it impresses anybody? You think it impresses Y2J himself? He's probably gotten bored out his damn mind 'bout ya-- you make me sick. The voice of reason is finally heard, Austin paces around the troubled Mike Adamle who stares right in front of him, wondering what to say. This thing has happened so fast, after all. Adamle: I'm sorry if any of my comments troubled you, Stone Cold. Don't get me wrong, Jericho isn't the only one who impresses me. I must admit, you're a great performer as well! You have the drive, the charisma... you have it all! Stone Cold's eyes widen up automatically and Adamle stops talking right there and then. The crowd continues to boo as Austin ponders for a bit and answers Adamle's comment. Stone Cold: Say that again. Adamle: I-- *STUNNER* The crowd pops as the glass shatters instantly after while Adamle flops around the ring like a fish. Austin follows as he drops the microphone and starts stomping on the poor fellow. The stomps drive Adamle's fallen body out of the ring, and Austin stares at him while pacing hastily around the ring. A few moments later, he picks up the microphone and shouts: Stone Cold: CUT THE MUSIC! [music stops] ...I don't know what that sumbitch was all about, and to be clear I don't give a damn about him. All that matters is that I'm back... [crowd cheers] yep, that's right. I went up to the chairman's office, signed a brand new contract, which guarantees a satisfying salary, and... lots of beers. [WHAT?] So I'ma drink the beers, [WHAT?] and then whoop some ass! [WHAT?] And then drink more beers. [WHAT?] And then whoop some more ass! [WHAT?] There's not one son of a bitch in the back who can get ready for this Rattlesnake to go through 'em and stomp a mudhole on their asses and walk 'em dry! The crowd pops once more as Austin continues pacing, holding onto the ropes. Another "Austin" chant breaks out as Stone Cold stares at his feet for a few moments, before looking back up. Hart: Austin looks ready! Stone Cold: Now I might as well tell ya my ultimate goal, and that is to once again... become the World Heavyweight champion. [crowd cheers] So I don't give a damn how many sumbitches I gotta go through 'till I get that damn belt. Anyone who stands in my way, you know damn well what's gonna happen to ya. Will it be a stunner? [WHAT?] A mudhole stompin'? [WHAT?] Spinebuster? [WHAT?] Clothesline? [WHAT?] TWO STUNNERS? [WHAT?] THREE STUNNERS!? [WHAT?] A steel chair on the back of the head? [WHAT?] ...it doesn't matter, all that matters is that Stone Cold will once again be the TWG champion, and that's the bottom liiiiiine, 'cause Stone Cold s-- ???: Austin! Stone Cold: ... The camera shows a limping Mike Adamle, with a microphone to his mouth, hanging on the ropes. He staggers back into the ring as boos resume, and some wonder what the hell he is doing. So does Austin. Big time. Adamle: I just wanna take this time to say... thank you! Thank you for giving me a Stone Cold stunner, as you are one of the greats, an undisputed legend, I consider it a priviledge and an honor to receive a Stunner by you. Thank you, Steve. An exasperated Stone Cold looks around, as he's never met someone like this before. Delusional? Out of his mind? Who knows. Adamle resumes his million-dollar grin as Austin looks away while responding to him. Stone Cold: You little bastard. Adamle: I'm sorry? Austin follows with a devastating clothesline! The glass shatters for a third time tonight. The crowd loves this as Adamle flails away, towards the bottom turnbuckle as Austin catches up to him, as the music continues. And there he starts the mudhole stomping. One, two, three, four... you know the rest. Austin gives one last stomp and taunts to the cheering crowd before exiting the ring. Hart: Austin is back, ladies and gentlemen! DiBiase: Poor Mike Adamle.... Hart: He had it coming. DiBiase: He did not! He complimented Stone Cold! And he receives all this abuse! Hart: Right, well... | |
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| The Hazard |
Apr 18, 09 at 7:09pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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 Stone Cold Face 0/1/0 The camera is strolling around the arena for search of a good parcel of an active crowd. They can find that pretty much anywhere, as the arena is jampacked and alive with thousands of fans screaming at the top of their lungs, waiting for the next big thing to occur. Anything can happen in this unpredictable environnment. Shortly later, the cameras switch backstage to spot... Stone Cold alongside Michael Cole. The crowd pops immensely for the Rattlesnake who looks away in oblivion with his hands on his waist as Cole begins the interview. Cole: Well, Stone Cold, do you think you can get it done tonight, as it seems like you have a Rage in the Cage qualifier against-- Stone Cold: Yak, yak yak yak yak-- shut up. [Cole looks down, embarassed] You son of a bitch. I remember this like if it was my first day. Bunch of measly bastards havin' a match against me, week after week, going all “I can terrorize ya, beat ya to a bloody pulp” and all that crap. You ain't never heard Stone Cold Steve Austin run his mouth like a measly bastard, the only way I showed how I was the best was by stompin' a mudhole in each and every sumbitch's ass, and that's how I always roll. And every time, those sumbitches afterwards were rollin' around on their belly, cussin' at the sky, askin' "why is that Texan beer-filled son of a bitch able to get one over me?". Well, there's a simple answer to that, Michael. I'm the toughest SOB in this business, was, still am, and will ever be. I'm not holding out. You better get ready. And that goes for anyone in that locker-room. The crowd cheers and approves these statements as Austin widens his eyes while saying those words, before staring back at Cole. Stone Cold proceeds to place his arm around Cole's neck, like a good old friend would do, but Austin definitely wasn't his friend. Instead, once he places his arm, he snatches the microphone away from Michael and stares into the camera as the mic scrapes his cheeky mustache. Stone Cold: Michael, I need to let you know that-- no, I need to let every son of a bitch out there know that I am BACK. This ain't no part-time. [WHAT?] Not once-a-month. [WHAT?] Not once-a-blue-moon. [WHAT?] Sparingly. [WHAT?] Occasional appearances. [WHAT?] There ain't none of that crap. [WHAT?] I am back, Michael. And as I said, my main goal right now is to win back that god damn World championship, even if I have to go through that fat bum-belly overgrown piece of crap, Brock Lesnar. Boos slowly swarm around at the mention of Lesnar's name, as Cole tries to subtly grab the microphone back, but Austin's grip is holding it tight and firm. Stone Cold is still glaring through the screen with his daggering eyes. Cole eventually gives up in a comical manner and Austin continues. Stone Cold: That's why last week I picked a fight with that son of a bitch, for pissing me off. Talking a whole bunch of crap and showing nothin' for it. I flipped him a middle finger like I do to everyone else, but that middle finger was special. There was somethin' special behind that middle finger. [WHAT?] I SAID THERE WAS SOMETHIN' SPECIAL BEHIND THAT MIDDLE FINGER. [WHAT?] It was to send him a message. And do you know what I did while I flipped off that sumbitch, Michael? Cole: ... Stone Cold: Hey, Michael! [slaps Cole on the back of the head] Michael Cole was lost in the clouds as Austin was speaking, and he just woke up after that backslap. He gave up after trying to reach his microphone back. Stone Cold: Were you ignoring Stone Cold, you bastard? Like you had somethin' better to do? Cole: Uhh, n-no, no-- Stone Cold: Shut up. When I talk, you listen. Do I make myself clear? [Cole nods] Now, what did I do while I gave the middle finger to Brock Lesnar? Cole: ....you... drank some beers? Stone Cold: ... This was the surefire response pretty much when Austin asks you what he's been doing. It makes sense after all. Drinking beers and Stone Cold Steve Austin obviously go together. The Texas Rattlesnake still holds his arm around Cole's sweaty neck. Stone Cold: NO, I LAUGHED. I LAUGHED, MICHAEL. I laughed, because I knew that son of a bitch isnt gonna amout to anything anytime soon. You can talk all the crap you want, but at the end of the day, Stone Cold will still open a can of whupass on ya, and there's two things you can do about it: nothin', and like it. These statements were definite, and as the crowd approved them, Cole finally ends up snatching the microphone back away from him! This was a personal victory for the backstage interviewer... for a few seconds before he realizes Austin is staring a hole through him. Cole immediately stutters like a third-grader as he continues. Cole: Uh... what about your m-match against John Morrison tonight? Stone Cold: Who? Cole: John Morrison. Stone Cold: Jim Morrison? That son of a bitch is dead. You expecting Stone Cold to fight a dead guy? Cole: N-no, John Morrison. Stone Cold: Well, I don't know who that bastard is. He sounds like a fruit. [WHAT?] Like a jackass. [WHAT?] Like a poser. [WHAT?] Pathetic bastard. [WHAT?] Whoever he is, he better check himself because Stone Cold received in delivery a whole bunch of cans of whupass, and I'm runnin' out of place to keep them all. Therefore, that Jim Morrison bastard, he don't know what's comin' to him. Gonna whoop Jim Morrison's ass tonight, and then I'm gonna do what I always do after the show. Drink some beers-- yeah, Michael. Then would've been a good time to predict what I'm gonna do! And on these words, the Rattlesnake leaves the scene, leaving Cole and many viewers speechless. Although the viewers and the crowd at home are overjoyed to know that the real Stone Cold is back, and that things will be picking up once again. The last thing we hear before the cameras cut to a commmercial is a troubled Cole slowly responding to Austin's last comment to deaf ears as Austin is long gone: Cole: Uh... it's John... | |
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| The Hazard |
Apr 20, 09 at 5:06pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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 Stone Cold Face 0/1/0 The cameras stroll out to spot Stone Cold Steve Austin, the lovable tough SOB walk backstage with confidence and determination. The crowd doesn't hesitate and lets out one of the biggest pops of the night, despite the fact they saw him earlier be interviewed by Michael Cole. They love the Rattlesnake, who suddenly gets stopped in his tracks by a familiar face. Adamle: Why hello, Austin! Boos swarm around immediately as Austin looks down, frustrated and confused at the same time, while Adamle glares at the Rattlesnake with the same annoying mind-numbing near-hypnotizing 'million dollar smile' he likes to showcase so much. Mike looks once again oblivious to all the hate, all the while carrying a small paper in his hands. Adamle: Just the man I wanted to see. Now-- Stone Cold: Hey, hey. Quit yapping. Shut the hole on your face. Stone Cold Steve Austin is gettin' ready for his damn match, he don't need no bastard bothering him about some crap. Get the hell out of-- Adamle: But Austin, I'm just here to deliver you a telegram. Stone Cold: A telegram. Adamle: Yeah. Stone Cold: Well thank you. Now get your ass out of my sight before Stone Cold gives ya a telegram of his own, called the mudhole stompin' ass-whuppin' special of the night-- no, wait. You know what? Get Stone Cold a beer. Adamle: Well, Austin, before I should have you know-- Stone Cold: Get... me... a beer. His cold eyes resurface again and Adamle seems mesmerized by them shortly, before he finally gets the message. He leaves without saying a word, with a new task at hand. Austin unfolds the paper and starts reading as he strokes his chin repeatedly. After a few seconds pass, his face remains unchanged as he throws the paper away, and continues walking in the same direction he was walking before. Suddenly, he bumps into none other than... Curt Hawkins. The crowd boos as Hawkins and Austin stare each other down for a while, and Austin breaks the first sweat. Stone Cold: What you doin' there, son? Hawkins: ...nothing. Stone Cold: Look at me with your beady little ey-- what in the hell? Your eyes are as red as barbeque sauce. Mild laughs occur through the crowd as Hawkins immediately looks away in a matter of reflex. Austin continues staring at the troubled superstar and then shrugs it all off as he continues. Stone Cold: Whatever. You seen Jim Morrison anywhere? Hawkins: Isn't that guy dead? Stone Cold: That's why I keep sayin'! But those bastards put me in a match against some Jim Morrison fella, I don't even know who that son of a bitch is, AND I NEED A GOD DAMN BEER. [crowd cheers] Where the hell is that fruity sumbitch? Hawkins: ... Austin turns around and walks away in the opposite direction as he has a new goal in mind: find Mike Adamle who needed to deliver him a beer. Or just get a beer. Either way, he was gonna drink tonight. The camera focuses back on Curt Hawkins right before it cuts to a commercial. | |
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| The Hazard |
Apr 27, 09 at 10:24pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 0/1/0 The show is alive and well, tonight things will be off the charts. The crowd is once again sold out and packed as we cut backstage to see whatever the heck will happen next. And look who it is! Stone Cold Steve Austin being interviewed by Kevin Kelly? This seems to be promising because... well, it's the Rattlesnake. You cannot get anymore interesting than the Rattlesnake. Kevin Kelly: Stone Cold, your thoughts on tonight's match, especially when John Morrison defeated you last week and... Kelly slowly stops speaking as he notices Austin staring a hole through him. Stone Cold doesn't say a word, and practically hasn't said a word all day. He approaches Kevin very slowly and grabs the microphone from his hands with caution before tossing him away in an unexpected manner, with the crowd approving. He's alone on the interview set, and glares into the camera looking quite boiled. Stone Cold: Jim Morrison... you got Stone Cold's number, well I got yours you measly sumbitch. [WHAT?] Yeah, we got each other's numbers! [WHAT?] And tonight, you will bring your ass to the middle of the ring, nice and ready so Stone Cold can show you why they call me the toughest son of a bitch to walk God's green Earth! He's said his words, and the crowd eat it up. Austin doesn't budge one bit as he has an important message to dish out for tonight. He's quite pumped up and ready, and we haven't seen him like this in a hell of a long while. Stone Cold: Thinkin' you're better, with your stupid little abs, your gay haircut, your stupid sunglasses... you make me sick. You know what, though? [WHAT?] You remind me of a very special someone who ruffled my feathers a hell of a lot of times in the past. [WHAT?] You remind me of another guy with sunglasses... [WHAT?] flannel shirts, [WHAT?] dressin' like a pathetic sumbitch who thinks the world is his oyster, [WHAT?] who also had one of the most ridiculous haircuts I've ever seen. You know who that guy was? Hah, everybody knows who I'm talkin' about. Really, no one had an idea who. Well, some people did, but they weren't 100% sure of it. A guess, if you must. Stone Cold: You remind me of the guy who thought he would whoop my ass oh sooo many times, but failed to do it. And reminding me of that sumbitch, it relieves me a little bit. I got relieved thinkin' that you might be the same deal as him. I got relieved thinkin' that you're gonna let things go to your head. And as that man would say, right now you're lookin' like a grade-A... “jabroni”. And thus everyone at home and in the crowd instantly knew who he was talking about. There was only one man who could be associated to that word. Stone Cold kept his beady eyes locked on the camera, as he has not finished what he's saying. Everyone is hanging on to his dear words. Stone Cold: So you know what? You can act “cool”, you can try to be above the system, but in this business, there's only one son of a bitch who's above the system, and you're lookin' at him! [crowd cheers] And tonight, I get to team up with two Mexicans who look like piles of trash to me, but it doesn't matter. 'Cause I'll have my eyes locked on you, you get me? I'll have my eyes locked on ya, and if Randy Orton or Umaga get in my way, I'll clobber the son of a bitch to the ground, I'll stomp the hell out of him, and I might hand to him a stunner! [WHAT? + crowd cheers] TWO STUNNERS! [WHAT?] THREE STUNNERS! [WHAT?] You get the rest. And then I'll come back to you! [WHAT?] Stompin' a mudhole on your ass and walkin' it dry! [WHAT?] AND THAT'S THE BOT-- Just after he finishes his statements, Kevin Kelly shyly comes back onto the scene, holding an envelope. In true professional fashion, he tells Austin in lowered voice that he's received something for him. Stone Cold: Again? Kevin: Uh, yeah, and-- Stone Cold: Gimme that god damn letter. He harshly snatches the envelope off the interviewer, mercilessly tears it up and reads the letter as he strokes his chin. For the second time, he does this in front of millions of viewers, and just like last time, his face remains unchanged, yet you can see how impactful that letter looks to him. He glares at Kelly and slams the letter on his chest. Stone Cold: Hey, you. Why don't you get the hell out of here, and get me a damn beer? Kevin: Uh, sh-sure. Kelly immediately leaves, not wanting to be bullied by the Rattlesnake any longer. Austin looks away in oblivion as the commentators are heard in the background, sharing their reactions to this. Hart: Another letter... Dibiase: Who's behind the letters? And what do they say? Hart: Do you think Austin will ever let us find out? We'll be back after this break![color=#c6d0e7][size=1] | |
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| The Hazard |
Apr 27, 09 at 10:58pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 0/1/0 The matches are soon approaching and everyone's feelin' stoked for tonight's event. Tickets are sold out, merchandise rate is at an all-time high, particularly thanks to this man, who is currently roaming the hallways for a certain reason. Of course, that man's name is Stone Cold Steve Austin, who gets a fairly decent-sized pop, even despite the fact he appeared on interview minutes earlier. Stone Cold: Where is that son of a b-- there you are! Austin turns a corner and comes straight face-to-face with Kevin Kelly. Kelly doesn't make eye contact with him – in fact, that's one of the last things he'd ever do, and promptly hands him a beer can as Austin stays immobile, breathing immensely. Stone Cold: Where the hell were ya? I was waitin' for my beer the whole time back there! Kevin: The line got a little busy, and-- Stone Cold: Shut up. You're pathetic. I don't wanna hear it; you're lucky I don't whoop your ass right here and now, 'cause I'm damn thirsty. On these words, Stone Cold snatches the beer out of Kevin's hands. This is the second time he snatches something out of the interviewer's grasp, and that doesn't sit well with Kevin at all, but what can the poor guy do? The one thing he can do is endure this – ah, the perks of being in the professional wrestling world. Stone Cold: Get outta here. Kevin nods his head and immediately complies. Stone Cold: Wait. [Kevin turns around] Come back here. Kevin doesn't move a muscle. He's wondering what's up, and instead of walking back in a reflexive manner, he stays immobile to the sight of the Texas Rattlesnake. Stone Cold: Come... here. Don't make me walk up to ya, 'cause that'll cost ya. Kevin: ... The backstage interviewer gulps and rejoins Stone Cold. Austin stares at him as he still hasn't drank the beer can yet. Something's up in the air. Stone Cold: Who sent you that letter? Kevin: I don't know, some.. guy. Stone Cold: That Adamle guy? Kevin: No. It's another road agent. Or whatever. He just told me this came in the mail. Stone Cold: Yeah, well there's a damn problem here. Know what the problem is here? It says in that letter that my wife Debra... has been signed to a TWG contract, and she's comin' here next week. [crowd cheers] As my manager. And last I checked, Stone Cold didn't ask for a god damn manager. Do you see the problem here, Kevin? Kevin: Heh, troubles in the bed? Oh, the idiot. Kevin actually listened to the words which just came out of his mouth, and his eyes widened as he already regretted it. Mind laughs occur in the crowd as Austin keeps staring at Kevin with the most daggering eyes you can ever encounter. He doesn't say a word. Neither does Kevin. Huge tension going on here in this exciting night of Mayhem programming. DiBiase: What did he just say... Hart: He's an idiot, I won't feel sorry for him, whatever he's gonna get... Stone Cold: ... Kevin: Sorry. Sorry. Stone Cold: As I was sayin', my wife is comin' here next week, and she's sent me letters for the past two weeks about this. I'm getting quite pissed off of her attitude, always stickin' her nose in my business, and just when I thought I'd get away from her by coming back to Mayhem, this comes and bites me in the ass. That's why I want you to go get me another beer. Kevin: Yes, sir. Stone Cold: And if you ever meet Jim Morrison, you tell him that he's an unlucky sorry bastard, because Stone Cold is quite pissed off right now, and he's gonna take out his frustration on his sorry carcass here tonight! [crowd cheers] In fact, if you meet either Orton and Umaga, you tell 'em that. And if you meet those sorry sons of bitches, those Mexicans... Laxatives or whatever they're called, tell 'em to stay the HELL out of Stone Cold's way, do we have an understanding? Kevin: Yes, chef! This felt a bit like Hell's Kitchen. Kevin Kelly leaves, and finally Austin does what everybody thought he'd have done a long time ago, and that's opening the beer can and gulping it down in a matter of seconds. He wipes his mouth and carelessly throws the can away as he goes off in the opposite direction. TWG cameras cut to a commercial once more. | |
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| The Hazard |
May 07, 09 at 8:49pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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 Stone Cold Face 1/2/0 The crowd has settled down, whatnot with how this night of incomparable action has riled up every single person in the crowd, silently waiting for the next big thing to occur. Nobody knew what would hit them. A glass shattering sound. Cole Ladies and gentlemen, this is Outbreak and let's remember we have some very exciting matches which will go underway later on tonight. The Coach: Hell yeah, the main-event! Four great superstars smashed together in a tag team match! Cole: Yeah, and remember there is also a Last Chance battle royal, in order to determine who will be entered into the Rage-- [GLASS SHATTERS]  The Coach: Speaking of which! Cole: OH YEAH! The crowd erupted at this iconic sound as Stone Cold emanates from behind the curtains, walking as nonchalant as ever. Austin glares at some people on the front row as he makes his way down the ramp, in front of more than 20 000 fans raving wild for the Rattlesnake. Austin arrives at the end of the ramp, and climbs up the steel steps into the ring. He climbs all four turnbuckles at each turn and taunts to the packed crowd before demanding a microphone. Once he receives one, the music quits playing and nothing but “Austin” chants are heard swarming throughout the arena. Stone Cold: Good to be back here in Boise, Idaho... Cheap pops are triggered here as Austin continues pacing around the ring, looking down, determined and perplexed at the same time. Stone Cold: And uh, tonight I'm facin'a couple of sons of bitches... but that is the least of my worries. My main concern is that my wife Debra is coming back tonight, and is somewhere in this damn building. Now, it's not like I been tryin' to reach her.. but whatever the case, I must focus on my task at hand, and that is winning tonight's match. I don't give a damn about who's in that Battle Royal, how many there are, but what matters is that Stone Cold Steve Austin is gonna do what he does every night, and that is stomp a mudhole in somebody's ass, and walk it dry! Cheers erupt from the crowd who approve of every word; their hero seems ready and determined to perform his task tonight. Stone Cold continues to pace around the ring, holding onto the ropes from time to time. Stone Cold: I've been put into a “last chance” Battle Royal where the winner will make it to the Rage in the Cage match-up. One thing I noticed is that sumbitch Brock Lesnar makin' it in there. [slow boos emerge] He thinks his little ass can get it done and stroll his way towards my World Heavyweight title-- uh NUH-UH! He got another thing comin', or else my name ain't Stone Cold Steve Austin. I'll grab that sumbitch, break his arms, break his neck, do whatever I can damn well do so that I get put into that damn Rage in the Cage match. All those other sumbitches better look out 'cause there's a machine rollin' in town. People say 'round me: “Oh Austin, you sure you still got it?” Tell you what, damn right I still got it. It ain't over 'till I say it's over! And Brock, Charlie Haas, and whoever else is in that match, you're gonna see tonight the side of Stone Cold you ain't never seen before-- Woah, what is this? Unexpectedly, a certain theme music interrupts Stone Cold, who diverts his look towards the stage. Not many are familiar with the theme, and several people in the crowd get up to look onto the stage, seeing none other than... his wife Debra come out!? It's Debra! The crowd cheers as a troubled Austin shows a “seasick” look on his face. He holds dearly onto the ropes, looking down as Debra waves around, feeling great to be back. It's been a while. Debra walks to from end-to-end of the large stage, blowing kisses to the deep ends of the crowd on both sides. Meanwhile, Stone Cold tries to.. pick himself together. Who would've thought one's wife could cause the man such torment? Cole: It's Stone Cold's wife, Debra! Former Women's champion, back in TWG's roof. The Coach: She's made it! Cole: Oh my, look at Austin's face! The Coach: She hasn't changed one bit. Still as voluptuous as before! Debra walks down the ramp very rapidly, as she can't wait to get back with her husband which she hasn't seen for quite some time. She sports that million-dollar grin, as if her husband just came back from the war. Once she gets into the ring, she immediately hugs Stone Cold, who shows a slight taste of disgust. Austin then looks at the crowd, and sticks the mic to his mouth as he mutters those few words: Stone Cold: God help me. Mild laughs are drawn from the crowd as Austin immediately separates himself from his wife, pacing a bit more throughout the ring. Debra stares at the crowd smiling and waving hands before she speaks into the microphone she brought down to the ring with. Debra: Oh Steve, it feels great to be back in the sports-entertainment business, and back.. with you! Some people 'round me done told me that you ain't been at your best lately, so Debra's here for ya, baby! I'm gonna support you through and through, make sure that you don't feel worn out no more! Stone Cold is still troubled. Rubbing his chin frantically, he listens to every word Debra says – which is quite a feat – as several confronting thoughts form in his head. Debra: You and me, back on the road, doesn't that sound excitin'? Because I know you are still destined for great things. And you know what, Steve? I am so glad that you've gotten the chance to be in this last chance Battle Royal tonight, and you should be extremely grateful. 'Cause after that terrible defeat to John Morrison, I'm sure everyone else, especially the fans... [crowd cheers] think that you deserve another chance as they know you can become the World champion just one more time! The cheers amplify as everybody would love one last reign for the Texas Rattlesnake. Austin looks away into oblivion as Debra nods repeatedly, feeling excited of being back with her man. Austin picks the mic up to his mouth, and stares at his wife, talking to her for the first time since she's gotten to the ring. Stone Cold: Sorry.. if I been not hearin' correctly, but Stone Cold doesn't like some of the words you've been employin'. Terrible defeat? I'm not at my best? [WHAT?] Do you think Stone Cold is out of his game? [WHAT?] Out of the loop? [WHAT?] Past his prime? [WHAT?] Not good anymore? [WHAT?] An old piece of meat? [WHAT?] No longer able to do the job? [WHAT?] Because if that's what you think, you can cut the crap right now, and tell me right here! Debra seems troubled at her turn, and shakes her head repeatedly as Austin approaches her face very slowly, the crowd and viewers at home looking on, pondering what could happen next. Stone Cold: Answer my question. Do you think... Stone Cold ain't got it anymore? He lowers his microphone towards Debra's mouth, knowing full well she has a mic herself. Fans in the crowd are yelling all sorts of things, as if they wanted to get their voice in. The tension was at its highest. Debra: N-no! No, not at all, Steve! No... Austin keeps the microphone stuck to her mouth, as he remains immobile, staring a hole through Debra's head. His daggering blue eyes were nothing of comforting, until Austin finally backs up, releases a soft exhale and paces much slower around the ring. Stone Cold: Hm. That's what I wanted to hear. Now I told you before you came here... that I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help. There's not one son of a bitch in this world who can or should help me. There's only two things in life that can keep me alive: ass-kickin', and beer. [crowd cheers] I ain't got those two things, I'm done for. And as far as I'm concerned, I still got both. Do you agree with that? [Debra nods rapidly] Good. So for tonight, I got this Battle Royal covered. And then I'll be off to the pay-per-view, ready to kick some ass and become once again the World Heavyweight champion. And that's the bottom liiiiiine, 'cause Stone Cold said so! The proverbial glass shatters once again as Stone Cold drops the mic carelessly and exits the ring, leaving Debra alone in the ring. Debra quickly follows, not wanting to leave her man alone. She walks up the ramp, meters behind Austin who seems to be in a hurry to get backstage. Austin stares at bits of the crowd before turning around, taking one last look at the audience and heading behind the curtains. Debra luckily catches up to him. Cole: Well, Austin seems thrilled that his wife his back, that's for sure. The Coach: Your sarcasm sucks, Cole. But I still think Debra will be a great asset to Stone Cold, whether he likes it or not. Cole: Guess there's only one way to find out. Will Austin be the one to enter the Rage in the Cage? Find out tonight! | |
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| The Hazard |
May 07, 09 at 9:47pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 0/1/0 Tonight's Outbreak was off the charts as one match in particular would help make history tonight, and that is the last chance Battle Royal. Entrants in this match have lost their chances but have one last shot at redemption. One of these men was about to conduct an interview on his first ever Outbreak appearance. Todd: Ladies and gentlemen, here with me is the man making his first appearance on Outbreak, there he is, the Texas Rattlesnake, Stone Cold Steve Austin! The crowd pops like no other as Austin is shown with his hands on his waist, staring at Todd with his daggering eyes. Debra is standing beside her man, smiling and looking on as the intimidated interviewer begins asking his questions. Todd: Stone Cold, your thoughts on tonight's match. Stone Cold: Well, Stone Cold just got done checking who's in this damn match tonight, so I can at least have an idea of which asses I'm gonna whoop all over Boise, Idaho. And you know what, Todd? Stone Cold likes his chances. Todd: You do? Stone Cold: Yes, I do. And shut up when I'm talkin'. I'm the one that people wanna hear, not your scrawny ass. [Todd gulps as Austin glares into the camera] Now, tonight is gonna be a match of what they call “monumental proportions”, what? [WHAT?] I said, monumental proportions! [WHAT?] But not a big a match-up as the Rage in the Cage match. A huge structure assembled in the ring, and it ain't gonna be pretty. It's gonna be a match where superstars will bleed... [WHAT?] grovel, [WHAT?] sweat, [WHAT?] scream, [WHAT?] destroy, [WHAT?] yell, [WHAT?] and all sorts of other inimiaginable things you'd think would ever happen in that damn structure. But is Stone Cold scared, or the least bit concerned? HELL no. And-- get your hands off me. Austin looks to his right, seemingly ordering away at his wife Debra, who seemed to be grappling onto his arm like any wife likes to do, next to their big bulky man. Once she complies, Austin stares back into the camera. Stone Cold: I'm not concerned, not one damn bit. Because I'm considered one of the toughest sons of bitches to ever walk the Earth, and for a reason. I've been into much worse. I've been into Hell in a Cell matches, [WHAT?] I Quit matches, [WHAT?] First Blood matches, [WHAT?] and many more. I ain't scared of no stupid Rage in the Cage match, neither about whoever the hell gets in it. Instead, anyone of those sumbitches that are entered into that match better be concerned about the Texas Rattlesnake comin' into that match, ready to beat the holy hell out of every single one of 'em, stomp a mudhole in their asses, and that's all I gotta say 'bout that! Many through the crowd approve as they keep watching through the Titantron, seeing their hero display his assurance. Todd nods after receiving the answers he needed for his interview, but Austin isn't done. He unexpectedly adds something as Grisham was just about ready to take the mic away from his mouth. Stone Cold: Hold on, you glass-eyed bastard. Now, what could be the problem here? Todd thought he'd finally get away from an interview scot-free. Guess he isn't as lucky as he thought. Maybe when all planets will be aligned or something... Stone Cold: Were you starin' at my wife? Todd: Huh? N-no! No, I wasn't. Stone Cold: [nodding repeatedly] You were, you were. How would you feel if Stone Cold handed you an ass-whuppin' you'll never ever forget? Todd: But I-- Stone Cold: If you think Stone Cold Steve Austin should whoop this sumbitch's ass right here and now, gimme a hell yeah. The crowd resonates with a huge “HELL YEAH!”. They always wanna see some action, no matter who's at the end of it. Stone Cold: So what you gotta say about that? Todd: ... Stone Cold: A little warm-up for my match tonight, don't you think? [Todd tries to say something] Shut up. Debra: Steve, leave him alone. He ain't done nothin' wrong. Come on, let's go prepare for your match. Stone Cold: [speaking through his teeth] But I feel like knockin' his god damn teeth out. Debra: Come on. Come on. Easy. Let's go get you a beer, alright? Austin still keeps his blue eyes locked onto Grisham's red face as Debra pulls the Rattlesnake away, slowly but surely. A catastrophe was probably avoided here, or at least some well-received ass-kicking. Todd looks on and gulps while re-arranging his tie as the Outbreak cameras slowly cut to a commercial. | |
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May 08, 09 at 11:01pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 1/2/0 Once the show returns from the commercial break, Stone Cold and Debra are shown wandering backstage, walking in large hallways as they get a bit acquainted with the Outbreak roster. Several wrestlers and road agents are shown as they walk by, this was quite a busy venue. The main venue, actually, what was just behind the main curtain leading to the stage. They had things to do, which include preparing themselves for tonight's high-profile match. Stone Cold: Look at 'em. They all make me sick. Debra: I know, Steve. And that's why you're gonna win tonight, and-- Stone Cold: Hold on. Austin stares at something in particular and turns a corner to spot none other than... Mike Adamle sitting on a bench, drinking coffee. Mike recognizes them and grins, seemingly quite thrilled, but not as much as before during his first encounters with the Rattlesnake. Stone Cold: What the hell are you doin' here? Adamle: Why, hello Austin! See, I'm just enjoying my coffee and-- In a moment of frustration, Austin rapidly grabs his coffee cup and throws it away! A little splash is heard in the background as Stone Cold keeps his eyes locked directly on a troubled Mike who just... lost his remaining snack. Mike stutters but Austin won't let him have it. Stone Cold: I thought I told ya I didn't wanna see your face no more. Adamle: Yeah, but... that's why I went to Outbreak, I figured you wouldn't be here, and-- Stone Cold: wah wah wah, wah wah-- shut up. Shut the hole in your face. You knew damn well I was gonna be here tonight, at least you shoulda known. I'm participatin' in a god damn match tonight, you cookie-cutter bastard! And I told you to stay the hell outta my way. Adamle: My, who's this fine woman behind you? Mike ignored most of Austin's words as his eyes were locked onto Debra for the past few seconds. Austin stutters and subsequently stops speaking as he glances at his wife a few times, before looking back. Stone Cold: That's my wife. Debra, jackass, jackass, Debra. This emanates a few laughs from the crowd as Austin keeps his eyes locked onto Adamle while saying these words. Debra and Mike both shake hands in a particularly uneasy moment which is going on, courtesy of the Rattlesnake. Stone Cold: I didn't tell you to greet my wife. Adamle: S-sorry-- Stone Cold: Look at me. You'll do what I tell you to do, you little sumbitch. You're lucky I don't whoop your carcass right here and now. Because I'm antsy for a fight. I know I got a match out there tonight. I know I got four sons of bitches to go through. But that doesn't stop me from wantin' a little warm-up action beforehand, you get me? Adamle: Yeah-- Stone Cold: You're pathetic. Adamle: I know. Stone Cold: It's not enough I gotta go through... Triple H. One tough competitor but a sorry piece of trash with a big nose. I gotta go through Charlie Haas, a little runt who ain't done nothin in this damn business, therefore he's a sorry piece of trash. William Regal... he's a sorry piece of trash. And he's British which makes it that damn worse. [mild laughs] Honestly. They drink tea over there, for Christ's sakes. Debra: But Steve, I made you some tea-- Stone Cold: [turns towards Debra] WHAT? Debra: ... Stone Cold: You got the nerve to make me some tea? [WHAT?] You know Stone Cold hates tea! [WHAT?] What the hell is Stone Cold gonna do with some god damn tea!? Adamle: You can give it to me! Stone Cold: ... Slowly but surely, Austin spins around and faces Adamle again with an even more pissed look on his face. He didn't like the tone of his voice, not one bit. The crowd was eating it up meanwhile, knowing a bit what to happen next. Stone Cold: I wasn't done with you, you son of a bitch. It's not enough I gotta go through those three sumbitches, I also gotta go through the biggest bastard of 'em all. A 400-pound babblin' trash-talkin' lunatic, who has a million-dollar body, and a pea-sized brain! [crowd cheers] That sumbitch, Brock Lesnar, I wanna grab him, and beat him, beat him, beat him, BEAT HIM, WHAT? [WHAT?] ...and a stomp a mudhole in his ass. And THEN I'll throw him over the top rope. And I'll throw those three other carcasses over the top rope! But you know what? You know what? Despite all that, despite all their crap, despite all the crap they have said, thinking they have a chance of getting one over the Texas Rattlesnake....all four of those bastards don't piss me off as much as YOU! This garners a decent amount of cheers as Mike Adamle is now as embarassed as ever. He looks down, refusing to make anymore eye contact with Austin, and Debra slowly grabs Stone Cold's arm without saying anything, hinting that she wants this to end. Austin surprisingly thinks so too, and begins to step away from Mike as he mutters a few last words. Stone Cold: I warned ya. Stay the hell outta my way. Let's go, Debra. Finally, he turns around and leaves the premises, as a few wrestlers and road agents around were staring at the whole scenario. Adamle coughs and leaves in the opposite direction... to go order another coffee. Fun. The segment thus ends and TWG cameras return to another commercial. Damn those commercials. | |
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May 14, 09 at 2:44am ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 2/2/0 The cameras struck backstage once more as the PPV rolled in, and the fans are feeling more than excited. They cannot wait. What would happen in the main-event? Or the Rage in the Cage for that matter? All sorts of questions which will all be revealed this very night. Stone Cold Steve Austin's huge black jeep is shown rolling down the big parking lot with the 3:16 moniker on the side, as well as the trademarked skull. The crowd goes crazy seeing those logos – they know there's much to expect. Debra: Steve, drive more carefully. Stone Cold: Ah, yeah, yeah. But he didn't listen to her. He carelessly bumped the car into the parking lot and into the parking he had chosen. At last, the Rattlesnake is here! And the crowd is loving it. The jeep then stops, and the motor stops whirring as Austin and Debra both exit the car, and Stone Cold proceeds to open the back door, just to grab his sports bag and a few beer cans, all that he needed. He slams the door shut and walks down to the back door entrance of the arena with his wife by his side, wearing denim short jeans and a good old fashioned Austin 3:16 shirt. Stone Cold: Time to whoop some ass tonight! Debra: Damn right. But baby, do you know how the Rage in the Cage structure even looks like? Stone Cold: The hell do I care, the only thing that matters is that those sumbitches in that match... heh, they ain't lucky to have me in there. NUH-UH. They both arrive to the door, and a man shows up, dressed as some sort of a waiter. He keeps the door open but halts Austin and Debra on their way. Confused, Austin glares at the man wanting some answers. Debra: Uh, listen, we have to-- Stone Cold: Nah, nah, I got this. Austin placed his hand up at the same time he says these words, truly letting her know... he got this. He stares back at the man and his unwarranted presence, who remains with an indifferent look on his face. Man: Hello sir, may I have your ticket please? Stone Cold: My tick-- don't you know who the hell I am? Man: ...sir, your ticket please. Stone Cold: What the hell are you on about, you son of a bitch? I have a match here tonight. Now get your grubby hands off the damn handle, and let me through. Man: Okay, name? Stone Cold: [turns towards Debra] Can you believe that bastard? Debra: ... Man: Sir, your name. Stone Cold: What? [crowd shouts WHAT?] Man: Y-- Stone Cold: WHAT? [crowd shouts WHAT? With cheers behind it] Man: Your n-- Stone Cold: WHAT? [WHAT?] You don't know who I am? [WHAT?] I'm the guy who's gonna whoop your ass so bad-- you don't know what my name is, WHAT? [WHAT?] I'm the man who's gonna go through hell and fire tonight. [WHAT?] Got three, no four, no, five asses to whoop! That little grubby bastard, Charlie Haas, that sorry piece of trash, Jim Morrison. Those two sumbitches, Lukas Bronx and Shawn Michaels, and that Russian cock-eyed bastard. Whatever the hell his name is. You think I give a damn what his name is? Debra: His name is-- Stone Cold: NUH-UH! I don't give a flying crap. All I give a crap about now is this little sumbitch right here, who better let me through or else Stone Cold will open a can of whoopass on his pathetic sorry self. Do we have an understanding? Now troubled, he finally decides to step aside and let Austin and his wife through. Stone Cold enters the arena slowly while still staring at the silent man who looks down, slightly embarassed and intimidated. Debra follows, her hands staying on Austin's back as TWG cameras cut to.. something else. | |
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| The Hazard |
May 17, 09 at 6:56pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 2/2/0 Moreso throughout the PPV, we're having surprises, ups and downs, as well as constant reminders of what's to come. The huge matches, the unprecedented bouts, the epic encounters which have yet to take place. Cameras switch to the back to spot none other than chairman Vince McMahon discussing with other road agents with a coffee in hand. They're talking in quite a low tone, as they seem relaxed and calm, despite being in the environment they are. Vince: So what's the numbers, Mike? Mike: Looking good. TWG's ratings are high as ever. Vince: Brilliant. I don't think it can go any better. That's why I own this company; I know how to run things. Mike: Yeah. Vince: Obviously. I'm sure anyone will agree with me. ???: NUH-UH! Both Vince and Mike – who the *bleep* is he? - are suddenly perplexed by the voice which just appeared out of nowhere. They look around, wondering who's behind it. No one shows up as of now, but seconds later and Stone Cold Steve Austin suddenly springs up on the screen! The crowd's pops are as deafening as ever as Austin shows up right behind Vince, and Vince's immombrable posture doesn't budge a sip as he realizes who exactly is behind him. He gulps for a short moment and spins around to visualize his former arch-nemesis face-to-face. Vince: ...Austin. Stone Cold: ... The Texas Rattlesnake displayed an unusual grin, a grin you do not see often emanating from his face these days. Vince knows that, and therefore looks quite troubled as Stone Cold slightly approaches the chairman, looking quite interested to say something. Stone Cold: Well, well. If it ain't my good ol' friend Vince. Vince: [hesitantly] H-hey! Austin! Good to see ya. Stone Cold: How you doin'? Vince: Oh, life could be better. But how about you, Steve? Tonight's about you. Tonight is a big night for you. Stone Cold: Damn right. Tonight is where I reclaim my status, truly, as the toughest SOB this business has ever seen. Because a lot of people these days underestimate Stone Cold Steve Austin. They think I “lost it”. Can you believe that, Vince? Vince: I sure as hell can't. I look through those eyes of yours, and I see the same fiery passion as I have seen in yours years ago. Stone Cold: ...don't take me for a fool Vince. I know you're full of crap. This taken aback statement effectively silences Vince McMahon, who ponders for a bit and mumbles, admitting his defeat. But yet, he doesn't let it truly show – he can pull one over on anybody, can't he? He's Vincent Kennedy McMahon. Vince: Come on Austin, do you really think I'm trying to fool you around? I mean what I'm saying, and honestly, despite our accolades and past events together, I think you are what's needed for TWG. Can you imagine it? Stone Cold Steve Austin, the new TWG World Heavyweight champion. Both Vince and Austin glare in the same direction, as if they were movie directors planning an idea. The crowd approves with such a concept and Austin nods before following with a bit of his own. Stone Cold: Hell yeah. There ain't nothin' that's gonna stop Stone Cold from claiming his prize. That Rage in the Cage match is gonna be a big step, and I'm gonna put it all on the line to walk out of that damn cage, and walk out the winner. If anybody's down with that, gimme a hell yeah! The crowd resonates with a huge “HELL YEAH!”. Stone Cold: I didn't hear you say “hell yeah”, Vince. Vince: Uh.. uh.. hell yeah! Stone Cold: And I didn't hear you say it either, you little sumbitch. Whoever the hell you are. Mike: I'm Mi-- Stone Cold: Shut up. Get out of here. Mike immediately leaves the premises; he wants none of this. Vince watches him go, and realizes he's all alone with the Rattlesnake, and you never know how that can end from what statistics show. Even for his own wife, but that's another story. Vince: Right then. By the way, I hope you're not jipped about the result last Outbreak. You know... both you and Charlie Haas making it in the cage, even though there was supposed to be one winner – we felt one more man in the match could well spice things up, you know? Stone Cold: I got it. Don't you worry about nothin'. It doesn't matter how many guys are in there. I don't give a crap if King Kong, Big Ben and Andre the Giant all make it in there, because I'll be right there, ready to open a can of whoopass on all their sorry asses! Even if they're bigger than me, even if anybody in this match tonight is bigger than me, ain't nobody tougher than Stone Cold Steve Austin. Their sorry asses will be in for a beating, and that's the bottom liiiine, 'cause Stone Cold said so! [crowd cheers] It's been a pleasure meetin' you, Vince. Vince: Right back at ya. Stone Cold: ...AHAHAHA. Still full of crap. And thus he leaves, leaving the chairman bewildered and cautions about his future actions. But he's still confident in himself. That's all that matters. The cameras cut to the next segment as Vince looks on the Rattlesnake leaving to the locker-rooms. | |
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May 17, 09 at 10:51pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 2/2/0 The cameras were focused once again backstage, as the PPV went by with already many repercussions for the future. Winners were about to be immortalized, superstars were ready to achieve either their life-long dream, or another crack at the top. Nonetheless, tonight was the night. Backstage, we spot a darkened hallway, no doors, nothing. We hear grim noises, such as water dripping, and mice dashing through boxes and debris. One man is shown at the forefront of the hallway, shadowed by the light of the camera. He advances and then appears, the name being Stone Cold Steve Austin. He stares deeply into the camera and begins to speak. Stone Cold: You know, I been in this business for over 10 years. I've been through it all. I've been through hell and brimstone, and every damn time I came back even stronger. What's to say tonight's gonna stop me? Nothin'. There ain't nothin' which indicates that Stone Cold's time is up. My time will never be up, until I say so. But it seems a lot of people have already made that decision for me. A lot of people have already made that claim for me, tellin' me I ain't got it anymore. Well, you know what I say to those people? Huh? This. In unprecedented fashion, Austin pulls up his two hands... and flips the middle finger on both. The crowd eats it up, but Austin isn't done yet. He pulls his hands down and keeps his blue eyes locked into the camera, to really address the people at hand. Stone Cold: And tonight, tonight is where I earn my stripes once again. Tonight is where I will step into a demonic structure and whoop... some... ass. Because Stone Cold ain't just about winnin', Stone Cold is also about sending a message. Don't mess with the Texas Rattlesnake. Because I'll come back and bite you hard. Brock Lesnar; he got lucky. He got lucky I didn't pound that son of bitch afterwards and sent him packing to his mama. And he got damn lucky Stephanie put a halt to everything in the first place, or else I woulda messed him up good, stompin' a mudhole in his ass. You know the rest. Everybody knows just what the hell I am capable of, don't any of you, in that Rage in the Cage match, forget it one second. The Rattlesnake takes a breather and looks around slowly before walking towards the camera, as the cameraman obviously backs up at each step. Stone Cold: This business is in my blood. I grew up wanting to do this all my life. And my dreams have come true. I've succeeded, in many ways. I am a former World Heavyweight champion, which is way more than what I can say for half the sumbitches in this damn match tonight. Really, are you kiddin' me? Are you bustin' my balls? Anyone actually thinks sons of bitches like Charlie Haas or Bronx can pull this off? Or that big dumb Russian with his mouth shaped like a goddamn crossbow? What about Austin? I always hear people tellin' me I ain't got it, let I repeat myself, once again. Is it 'cause I'm gettin' older? Well it ain't how old you are, it's how old you feel. And right now, I feel like a million bucks. A million bucks and a beer. I'm still strong, I'm still fierce, and I can still.. bring it. He then showed one of the most sadistic grins you could ever see. Almost sent a chill down the fans' spine, even those who venerred and loved him during all these years. Austin strokes his chin for a second, thinking about several things before he gets to continue. This match got him flustered. Stone Cold: But tonight is where I silence every son of a bitch doubting me. I will walk into this match, look at Haas, Kozlov, Shawn Michaels, Jim Morrison, and Lukas straight in their eyes and show them why I'm still the toughest SOB in this business, why my body can still take some more, and why you do not cross Stone Cold Steve Austin. I'm coming in like a raging machine and there ain't nothin' stoppin' me. Sorry pieces of trash after sorry pieces of trash, steppin' in that cage tonight, I'll have my work cut out for me. I ain't guaranteed this match won, far from it. I got five cans. Five cans of whoopass shakin', ready to be loaded, opened and distributed all over your sorry asses! And that's the bottom line. Austin looks to his side, and smirks before turning his heels and leaving the premises. No “'cause Stone Cold said so”? Why? This, we'll never know as the Rattlesnake walks to the back, and the cameras slowly fade away to another PPV-paid commercial, promoting the next pay-per-view to come across. | |
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| The Hazard |
May 17, 09 at 11:01pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 2/2/0 Once more, the cameras are showing our unfriendly neighbourhood hero, Spider-- I mean, Stone Cold Steve Austin taking it easy backstage, focusing before his next match. He's alone in that locker-room. No noise whatsoever. He's deeply sunk into his thoughts, wondering about tonight. He's finally in his wrestling gear, and sighs before lacing and tightening his boots once more. Shortly after, a big clank is heard from behind, which represents the door. Someone opened that door, and it just happens to be... his wife Debra. Debra: How you takin' it, Steve? Stone Cold: Fine, what about it? Debra: Well I don't know, you look awfully stressed, and have looked so lately. Stone Cold: So what? Can't a man be a little on edge after all? I mean, look at the damn match I'm gonna compete in tonight. Debra: I thought you said that match didn't affect you whatsoever... Stone Cold: It doesn't, but... it's just... ah, shut up. Austin places his hands and puts them over the upper part of his face, not completely covering his eyes. He seems to be rubbing his forehead instead. He's in a very pensive state right now. Stone Cold: I came this far. And I gotta go through several people underestimatin' me. Again. Well, NUH-UH. This ain't how it's gonna happen. Because for one more night, Stone Cold Steve Austin is gonna flip this industry upside down. When I become the number one contender and challenge - and win - that World title. [Debra grins] But... Hmm? Debra seemed concerned as to why Austin stopped talking. Stone Cold: Debra, if I don't make it... you won't like how I'm gonna be after this. Debra: But you will, you will. I guarantee it. Stone Cold: Cut the crap, Debra. Let's talk seriously. If I don't win tonight, if for any possible reason, Stone Cold's hand isn't raised by the damn referee after this match, if I don't hear "And the winner of this match, Stone Cold Steve Austin" when the bell rings, no matter how much blood, sweat and energy I lose... you're not gonna like the sight of me. Not. One. Bit. Debra: ... And with these words said, Austin gives Debra the biggest and most daunting glare a man could ever give. She then felt uncomfortable. The tension wasn't good at all – why was there tension to begin with? Debra looked around frantically, trying to break free of Austin's daggering eyes. Debra: I'll... go get you a beer. This is the only thing reasonable which would come out of her mouth. The words being said, she slowly got up from her chair – with Austin still staring at her – and walked towards the door. She got to the door, opened it, and took one last look at her husband who still had his eyes locked on her. Frightening sight that must be. She got out of the locker-room and Stone Cold stared at the door as the commentators where then heard hyping more matches. | |
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| The Hazard |
May 23, 09 at 8:55pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 2/3/0 The cameras come back from the commercial break, and we are met with Jimmy Hart and Ted DiBiase who stare at the camera, ready to continue their weekly duties as they proceed of hyping, hyping and overhyping every parcel of matter which is happening tonight. Every match, every scheduled apparition, as it should be. Hart: Welcome back to Mayhem! DiBiase: Yes, the only show where you cannot wait to see what goes down. Best undisputed show in sports-entertainment. Hart: Very true, and have you seen the results for TWG Infection yet? Well if you want to, you can go on TWG.com to view them-- DiBiase: Oh, look here! As they've finished talking, the camera is shown backstage to spot Stone Cold sitting on a chair, immobile. He stares on the ground as Debra stays right behind him, slowly mounting over him, as a comforting friend. But Austin quickly shrugged her off as the ventilator in the room blazed to no end, displaying the amount of uneasy silence between the two. Debra: Look Steve, it's not all bad. You still gave your best, and I'm sure the fans can see that. Stone Cold: ... He wouldn't hear it. He was still drowned in his thoughts. He did hear her, but.. not sure that was enough to warrant a response. Austin got up, stumbled around slowly with his hands on his waist, in a pensive mood. Debra: Steve... Stone Cold: Shut it. I don`t wanna hear it. You know damn well the final result of that match. Debra: You got something out of it. Stone Cold: But I didn`t get the job done. Debra: Come on now Steve. You`ve shown to the fans all around the world you can still go, and that you still got it. Stone Cold: Yeah. And what`d that get me. Huh? Debra: Steve... Stone Cold: WHAT'D THAT GET ME? I can't hear you, Debra! Because THAT-- On a fury of rage, Austin snaps and throws the chair over. He glares at Debra maniacally as Debra holds her hands to her mouth, looking quite shocked and devastated at the same time. Stone Cold: Didn't get me squat! Because I'll still be seen as the sorry son of a bitch who can't get one by any of those sorry pieces of trash. I didn't come outright the winner. You think I'm gonna be dancin' around for being second place? Second place is for losers. And tonight... a match against that Bashir guy. Sorry piece of trash. You think I feel like goin' out there tonight, and makin' the best of it!? The best of WHAT? What? What? [approaches Debra's face angrily] WHAT? WHAT? THE BEST OF WHAT? Debra: ...sorry, Steve... Stone Cold: You sound pathetic. What's your problem? Get your ass out of here. She was used to receiving this sort of verbal abuse from her husband, and thus she did the best she could do at this time: suppress it all. Debra: Look, calm down. And try to focus your anger on your opponent tonight, because you can only go from there. And if you keep winnin, then you'll go right back to the top, and you'll be on board for future greatness. You gotta believe me, Steve. Stone Cold: ... As Austin was going to respond, the door knocks. The person enters the room nonchalant, obviously unaware of the situation at hand and the tension surrounding it. ???: Uh, I'm sorry. You just had a message-- Stone Cold: Who the hell are you? Jack: Jack. Stone Cold: Jack who? Jack: Uh... just Jack. Anyway, Vince wants to see you in his office. Stone Cold: Sure thing, but can you tell him one thing when you get back to him? Jack: Yeah, what? Stone Cold: Tell him Just Jack is a sorry son of a bitch. And Austin unloads right hands on Just Jack! Debra places her hand on her chest as a gesture of surprise as Austin delivers with right hands and mounting kicks on the face of the fallen road agent. He stomps repeatedly on the man before grabbing him by the collar and throwing him out of the locker-room! The crowd cheers as Austin then glares at Debra once more as the cameras cut to a commercial. | |
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 Synyster | |
| Shiny | |
| Zhou Tai Rocks | |
| The Hazard |
May 25, 09 at 9:35pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 2/3/0 Onto the night, through all the promos and angles going on, there's always one man set above the rest. There's always one man the fans have come to see. And here he is, frantically walking towards Vince McMahon's office, without a care in the world. The crowd pops as usual as soon as they spot their hero, Stone Cold Steve Austin, with his grim bearded face and popular reckless attitude. He's about to reach the door, but is interrupted by someone quite.. annoying. Todd: Stone Cold! What a surprise! I just wanted to ask you a few questions-- Stone Cold: You got some god damn nerve, son. Grisham immediately stops talking as he feels something not good is about to go down. Austin glares at the backstage interviewer with the most intimidating of regards. This doesn't sit well with him at all. Stone Cold: You really think it's a wise idea to taunt a rattlesnake? Todd: What? Stone Cold: Do you want to piss off a rattlesnake? I'm quite pissed off right now, and everybody in this damn arena knows why. You know damn well I don't wanna speak to nobody, and somehow Vince McMahon doesn't seem to understand that. He got the audacity to call me up to his office. But you know damn well that Austin needs some time alone to recollect his thoughts, and the last thing he needs is a sumbitch like you, dressed like a little prancy bastard, to bump into me, interrupt my actions and ask for a damn interview. Todd: Sorry. I just wanted to allow you to.. vent your thoughts as freely as you want through an interview. Stone Cold: You want me to vent my thoughts. Todd: ...yeah. Stone Cold: As freely as I want. Todd: Yeah. Stone Cold: ... Todd emanates the biggest gulp of his life. So loud, everyone in the crowd and at home could well hear it. That alone got some mild laughs as Austin doesn't say a word, staring a hole into the backstage interviewer. Vince: Austin! Out of nowhere, a voice shouted from behind as Todd looks over Austin's shoulder to spot none other than the man himself. The swagger and posture was there as usual. Vince: Austin, don't even think about it. It's bad enough you're in a bad mood already, let it go. Stone Cold doesn't completely turn around as he keeps his neck turned around, hearing Vince's voice is good enough for him. The Texas Rattlesnake takes one good last look at Todd before Vince opens the door and invites Austin in without saying a word. Todd looks down and breathes a sigh of relief as we cut to inside Vince's office. Stone Cold: So what is it, Vince? Vince: Austin, I can't help but feel you're extremely disappointed after last Sunday. Stone Cold: Really!? Austin's sarcastic tone really showed there, and it doesn't satisfy Vince at all, who was in the midst of a sentence. But it's not like Stone Cold cares either. Vince: As I was saying... if you think you didn't give your best shot out there in that Rage in the Cage, you're quite mistaken. If you think the fans don't see that you still got it in you, you're quite mistaken. Surveys on TWG.com say that you are still the man around here. Don't you ever forget it. And since this is you we're talking about, this is why I gave you this match tonight against Sheik Abdul Bashir. Because he's beaten you before. This will give you the opportunity to get one over him. And everybody knows you can beat his ass in the ring, no strings attached. No extra man in the contest. We still know... that Stone Cold can whoop some ass!! The crowd cheers as Austin, with his hands on his waist, remains immobile and unwarming to the situation and to the statements Vince has just given. Instead, he rubs his chin and looks away before looking back at the chairman. Stone Cold: ...that's it? That's what you wanted to tell me? The results of some stupid little survey? Rubbing in my face the fact that this Sheik bastard beat me before? Is that what you made me come all the way here for, through some bastard interviewer and that Jack guy, this is what you wanted to tell me!? Vince: Look, Austin, you gotta understand-- Stone Cold: No, no, I perfectly understand. Good ol' Vince, tryna cheer me up. What the hell is the deal here? Why do you suddenly give a crap about Stone Cold Steve Austin? Vince: I've always given a crap about you, Austin. For God's sake, we used to be arch-rivals! We have a strong history together. Stone Cold: Yeah, but when I came back to this company, you were nowhere to be found. Hell, it wasn't even you who called Stone Cold on the phone, told him “hey, Austin? Yeah, we heard you're willin' to wrestle again, how about you give another crack at TWG?” no! It wasn't you. It was always Shane or Stephanie constantly hounding me on the damn phone. Not you. So either one of two things – or you're plannin' something for Stone Cold Steve Austin, or maybe... you're trying to get on my good side for whatever reason. Vince: ...yeah. Sure, Austin. Whatever. Vince lets out a little chuckle, insinuating how stupid of an idea this has sounded so far. Austin replies with a grin of his own before he leaves the office without saying a word. But as he gets to the door, he turns around and looks one last time at the chairman. Stone Cold: See ya around, Vince. I got some ass to whoop tonight. But this ain't over. And he's out. Vince watches him go and as he wanders away, the TWG cameras cut to a commercial once more. Time for Hazzy to go smoke a spliff. | |
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| Shiny | |
| The Hazard |
Jun 01, 09 at 10:54pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 4/3/0 The cameras come back to the show. Mayhem is alive and running as the fans and viewers at home are on the edge of their seats, waiting to see what happens next. This has been unprecented for a long time in the world of sports-entertainment. We cut backstage to spot Stone Cold Steve Austin alongside Debra and the crowd riles up with cheers. Austin glares at her wife as she is apparently on her cellphone. Debra: Yes? Okay... yeah... alright, thank you. She hangs up and stares at her husband with a very stern look. The Rattlesnake replies with a glare of his own with a pint of confusion. Stone Cold: And? Debra: They denied it. Stone Cold: God damn it. Debra: Come on Steve, you don't need a 24-pack of beer at this time. You've got a match comin' up-- Stone Cold: Those bastards are too lazy to send me a damn case of beer. Because “they're closed”. BOO-HOO. Sorry pieces of trash. I'm damn thirsty, and I ain't gettin' outta here 'till I get my damn beer. Debra: In the meantime, you could go speak to Stephanie McMahon 'bout your problem. What is the problem anyway? Stone Cold: The problem? You wanna know the problem? The problem is that I beat that son of a bitch Shiel Abdul Bashir last week. And guess what. This week, he's in the main-event! Where is Stone Cold? Facin' some.. mexican midget bastard called Rey Mysterio. What the hell is this crap? Debra: Don't worry, you'll get your due, Austin. Vince said so. Suddenly, Austin stands up and hands another devastating glare at her wife. Debra sighs and looks down, knowing she's messed up again. Somewhere. She doesn't even know what she said wrong. Stone Cold: “Vince said so”? Is that what it's come down to? You believing that man's word? Whenever the hell did I, should I or could I ever trust what Vince McMahon has said? If I had a beer for every time that son of a bitch has screwed me in the past, I'd be on the roof of this building, singin' some Johnny Cash with a stick up my ass! “Vince said so”. That's pathetic. That doesn't mean squat. Don't give in to whatever crap Vince tells me or you. Debra: Well what do you think, Steve? You're arguably the biggest star on the roster... Stone Cold: That doesn't change a damn thing. I still have to earn my stripes back in this business, and tonight, Rey best look out for what's comin' for him. Stone Cold Steve Austin ain't done whoopin' some ass 'till I said so. And that's all I gotta say about that! Debra: ... Stone Cold: AND WHERE'S MY BEER!? The door knocks. Debra and Austin both stare at the door as it slowly opens. We spot another road agent coming in, with a bottle of beer in his hands. Stone Cold: What do you want? Road Agent: Compliments of Vince McMahon, Mr. Austin. The road agent places the large-sized beer bottle on the table, right in front of Debra. He nods and turns his heels around to leave. As he reaches and opens the door to get out of the room, Austin interrupts him. Stone Cold: Hold on. What's your name-- Debra: Steve.... Stone Cold: What? I just wanna know his damn name. We gotta get friendly up in here, don't we? Too late, however. The man had already left. Guess he didn't hear them. Or maybe he did, and saw what was coming. Nonetheless, Austin grabs the beer bottle and gets to work as Debra folds her arms and frowns her eyebrows. Debra: Now why would Mr. McMahon ever do such a thing... Stone Cold: For now, I don't give a rat's ass. Austin takes pleasure in guzzling down that bottle as a confused Debra continues to ponder, and soon enough Monday Night Mayhem fades away to black and cuts to a commercial. | |
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| The Hazard |
Jun 15, 09 at 11:00pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 5/3/0 The cameras come back after an exhilirating night in Monday Night Mayhem, the crowd is tiptoeing, waiting for the next big thing to happen. A segment, a match, an intense promo, whatever. The tickets were sold fast for this one. And now we cut to the back, once more, where Monty Brown is shown walking backstage to another chorus of boos. They still won't let him have it. He turns a corner, determined for his match. Brown: Let's get this thing cracking! ???: Hey, you little sumbitch. Monty stops as his eyes widen, pondering for a second who could that be. But his subconscious mind already guessed who was behind him. Very slowly, he turns around with his eyes still widened before he comes face-to-face with none other than the Texas Rattlesnake. The crowd lets out a deafening pop as Austin glares at his opponent. Stone Cold: Monty Brown, that right? Brown: ... Stone Cold: I asked you a question. I'd expect you to answer me-- Brown: Yeah, what's it to ya? Stone Cold: [nods] Alright. So I heard I'm facin' you tonight. [WHAT?] In the middle of this ring. [WHAT?] First time ever. [WHAT?] An unprecedented match-up. [WHAT?] It's gonna be a blast. [WHAT?] Lookin' forward to it. In his hand, Stone Cold contained a beer can, which he was drinking slowly and casually. Not something you see often with the Rattlesnake. Austin stares at his beer can a bit before continuing. Stone Cold: You know what that means? That means that you're gonna get your ass whooped. [crowd cheers] And actually, I meant to say this. I hear you talkin' about fate a hell of a lot lately. Like how it's fate for you to win all these matches. Like how it's gonna be fate when you get your grubby hands on the World Heavyweight championship-- uh NUH-UH! That's Stone Cold Steve Austin's job, you got that? It's Stone Cold's job to gun for that World title, and it's only a matter of time. A matter of time before those sons of bitches in management give me a damn title shot. But look at ya. You're nothin' but a-- Brown: Sorry piece of trash? No, no! I don't think so! I think the correct word is... a prodigy. A legend in the making. I'm undefeated in TWG, which is more than what I can say for you. The crowd doesn't take that retort lightly and let him have it through their negative reactions. Austin nods as he looks away, seemingly quite pensive. Ordinarily, this would piss Stone Cold off, but this Stone Cold seemed more... relaxed. Stone Cold: Well hey, have it your way, sport. You're right. You're undefeated, you're a prodigy, whatever the hell you wanna call yourself. But I-- Brown: YOU'RE A PUNK! That's what you are. The crowd jeers massively as both men get in each other's face, their noses being separated by thin air. You can hear their intense breathing flowing through the area as the tension was at its highest. After a few eternal seconds, Stone Cold doesn't say anything and slowly walks beside Monty, knocking his shoulder on the way. Monty realizes that and doesn't budge as he keeps his eyes locked onto oblivion, thinking about his match tonight. Shit isn't gonna be pretty. Suddenly... Brown receives a club from behind! He gets knocked down as the crowd is shocked and shows Austin smiling and leaning over him. Stone Cold: I'm Stone Cold Steve Austin. And I don't give a damn how many matches you won, how many people look up to ya, but you still remain and will forever be, a sorry piece of trash! [crowd cheers] You're a pathetic sumbitch who thinks all the world of himself, but you ain't stepped in the ring yet with the Texas Rattlesnake. I bite hard, son. You ain't seen nothin' yet. Now get your ass up, go in your stupid locker room, prepare for your match, and then come down to the ring 'cause Stone Cold can't wait to open a can of whoopass on your black carcass! And that's the bottom liiiine.... Austin stomps on Brown once more! The crowd enjoys it as Austin then walks away, had enough. Stone Cold: You know the rest. | |
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| The Hazard |
Jun 22, 09 at 10:39pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 6/3/0 We are backstage with the legendary... well, alright, not so legendary, backstage interviewer Todd Grisham, with a true legend by his side. A man who still hasn't lost his mojo, and that the day he does, you might as well announce the end of the world instead of the Mayans. *bleep* those Mayans. We are joined by the Texas Rattlesnake, Stone Cold Steve Austin. Huge pops follow, as always. The fans love to see their favorite heroes live in action and live on the microphone, are we about to witness a masterful promo once more? Todd: Stone Cold, your thoughts on tonight's match. Stone Cold: My thoughts are that finally, Stone Cold Steve Austin has a chance of getting one over that son of a bitch who in Rage in the Cage, Randy Orton. You know what, Todd? Honestly, I don't give a damn that he won Rage in the Cage, because he can frankly kiss my ass. Todd: [chuckles] Well Stone Cold, uhm... you have some pretty disparaging comments for a man who doesn't care-- Stone Cold: Excuse me? Todd immediately gulps, knowing once more he's said something too much. The crowd looks on as Austin approached Todd a bit more in a daunting manner. Stone Cold: Are you implyin' to Stone Cold that he's talking bullshit? [WHAT?] That I'm passin' one over these fans? [WHAT?] That I'm covering myself? [WHAT?] Todd: No, but-- Stone Cold: Shut up. When I talk, god dammit, you listen. Is that clear? [Todd nods] Do we have an understanding? Todd: Y-yes, Steve. Stone Cold: [raises chin] Who? Todd: Uh, yes Stone Cold. Stone Cold: Good. Now as for tonight's match, as I said, Orton you can kiss my ass. But before you do, I wanna tell ya a little story. So you better sit tight wherever the hell you are, 'cause it might take a while. Go get some coffee, orange juice, a beer, whatever you want – but not one of Stone Cold's beers or else you'll get your ass whooped in record time – and then, listen very carefully to my story. Stone Cold waits a moment, as if he was allowing his opponent tonight to go get something to drink. After a few seconds, the Rattlesnake nods and clears his throat before continuing. Stone Cold: Ready? Here goes. Once upon a time, there was a cocky little bastard making his way into the premier industry, the brass ring of sports-entertainment. That cocky little bastard made his way through the ranks faster than others, or you could say he did his time just like everybody else. Climbed up the ladder, possibly won a few titles here and there.... until he got to the big time. Made his way into the small circle of guys who were considered the cream of the crop. Know what I'm talkin' bout, Todd? [Todd goes to answer] Shut up. Lemme finish my story. Then, that bastard started runnin' his mouth like no other, like he was on top of the world and nothin' could stop him. Yak, yak yak yak yak, YAK. Wouldn't stop talkin'. Until a man by the name of Stone Cold Steve Austin made his way through. Showed that little sorry sumbitch the real thing, what it really meant to be a top player and a champion. What do you think happened? Todd knew he was probably going to get told to shut up again, so he just beat him to it and kept his mouth quiet. Austin keeps his eyes locked on Todd and smirks a groan as he looks back at the camera. Stone Cold: What happened was very simple. It's that Stone Cold came and stomped a mudhole on that little bastard, and walked it dry! [crowd cheers] But the question remains, who was that cocky little bastard? Well, Orton, that bastard represents you... and every other sorry piece of trash out there who thinks the world of themselves. Stone Cold has always been the man to knock them back down to the ground, to show 'em you really have to earn stripes. Tonight Orton, Stone Cold is gonna have to do that again. You think you're next to be the World champion? Maybe technically so, but you don't have to hold onto the hope that if you ever win that damn thing, that you'll hold onto it. There's a rollin' machine comin' into town and his name is Stone Cold Steve Austin. Mess with him and you're gonna get rolled over. Mess with him and you're gonna get burned. Fair warning to ya, sport. Austin looks around, takes one last look at Todd as an “Austin” chant begins to erupt in the arena. Stone Cold looks indifferent as always, and through his chin and daggering eyes shows an ounce of pent-up aggression building onto him. Stone Cold: And that's all I gotta say 'bout that. Interview is done. He leaves the set, with Todd Grisham looking on, feeling lucky he got away with this with no bruises or no serious problems. This is Austin we're talking about after all. He's unpredictable, and that's just how we like him. Commercial break arrives. | |
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| The Hazard |
Jul 13, 09 at 1:55am ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 7/5/0 The crowd hasn't seen much special things since the beginning of the show. Matches going on as usual, the usual crap. You know, you'd think the events would be much bigger than this! Come on, this IS Monday night Mayhem! Or is it Tuesday? Uh... anyway. We cut to the ring, with the fans cheering on their feet, ready to see the next big thing go down. We also hear the commentators... commentating. Hart: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Mayhem! The number one show in sports entertainment. DiBiase: Unprecendented, unbelievable, unforseen things have happened on this show. All as exciting and awesome as one another. Hart: And tonight I'm sure will be no exception. We have an epic main-event ahead of us, squaring off two of the biggest superstars of the business one-on-one! DiBiase: Yes, and--  [GLASS SHATTERS] DiBiase: Speak of the devil! The crowd pops as the raucous Texas Rattlesnake walks down the ramp in unceremonious fashion, as if he had one thing in goal. And actually, he does. He stares straight in front of him as if he was ignoring the massive crowd chants, when in reality obviously he keeps them close at heart. Fans on the front row tend out their hands wishing for the Rattlesnake to slap or touch some, but to no avail as always. Hart: Ladies and gentlemen! Stone Cold Steve Austin! DiBiase: One of the most decorated superstars in the industry, going up one-on-one against John Morrison tonight! Hart: We all know what happened last time. Austin climbs up the steel steps rather uncautiously and enters the ring. He wastes no time climbing the turnbuckle adjacent to him, taunting the whole crowd with his two middle fingers. The crowd responds with the same taboo gesture. Once he gets down, he ccasually asks for a microphone and the theme music dies down. He takes a good look at the packed crowd before raising the microphone to his mouth. Stone Cold: [bites lip] S'good to be here in Anchorage, Alaska. [crowd cheers casually] And I'll tell ya... after last Sunday, I been daaaaamn thirsty. He paces continuously around the ring as he speaks and takes a breather, allowing the crowd to offer their impressions on what he says so far. Stone Cold: I lost the International title match, not because I gave it my all and failed, but because Stone Cold Steve Austin has better things to do then to deal with those other little bastards in that match who gave it their all for the title. Let it be known that I could whoop Bashir's carcass in this ring over, and over again, as I have done before. As for Chris Sabin, well I don't give a rat's ass what the hell he's trying to prove, but Stone Cold is a machine you don't want to mess with, and I can confidently state that I could whoop that sorry piece of trash's carcass all over this damn arena! The crowd pops as Austin glares into oblivion with confidence as he keeps pacing around the ring like a caged animal. He then leans on the ropes facing the entrance ramp as he continues to speak. Stone Cold: And I want every son of a bitch back there to know that Stone Cold Steve Austin is far from done when it comes to what he really wants. And what does Stone Cold want? Hart: A beer! DiBiase: You might not be wrong there... Stone Cold: Well, Stone Cold wants a lotta things. Stone Cold would like, for example, a six-pack of beers. Hart: Told ya! Stone Cold: I'd also like a brand new shinin' ATV I could drive around, 'cause my current one's in the backburner. After that, I'd like another six-pack of beers. Then, I'd like my wife by my side as we listen to some.. Johnny Cash. And then another six-pack of beers. Then I'd like a back rub. As well as a WHAT-WHAT-WHAT-WHAT-WHATABURGER! ...followed by a good old six-pack of beers. [crowd cheers] But most importantly, what I want more than anything in the world, is a shot at the World Heavyweight championship. The idea seems quite promising for fans worldwide, and those in the crowd do not hesitate in leaving their approving cheers in favor of seeing Austin with another World title under his belt. Stone Cold: I've had enough of waitin', so Vince, whoever the hell is back here, come down to this ring and let Stone Cold have a crack at the World champion or whoever the hell I gotta go through to earn my shot. This charade stops tonight. WHAT? I SAID THIS DAMN CHARADE STOPS TONIGHT! Having said his words, nothing left to say, Austin raises the mic down from his mouth and glares intensively at the stage to see if anyone will respond. The crowd stare at the stage as well, wondering if somebody will come out. Damn near 30 seconds pass. Still nothing. Austin seems concerned as he raises the mic bac up to his mouth and leans on the ropes once more. Stone Cold: You guys should full well know by now that you do not – and I repeat, you do NOT test Stone Cold Steve Austin's patience. Bad things happen. You're all McMahons. If any son of a bitch on this planet should know this, it's anyone among you guys. With these words said and his finger authoriatively pointed towards the stage, Austin continues to lean on the ropes, waiting for someone's arrival. The crowd waits anxiously as well; anything could happen next in this world of entertainment. Stone Cold ponders for a while as he restarts pacing around the ring as always, stroking his bearded chin every once in a while. When it just seemed that nothing will happen, “No Chance in Hell” strikes the speakers as the thousands in the crowd awaited imminently for the appearance of the reverred chairman... | |
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| The Hazard |
Jul 13, 09 at 11:00pm ^
re: TWG - Volume III
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Stone Cold Face 7/5/0 The crowd stares at the calm collected chairman of the board, Vince McMahon, appearing from behind the curtains as he makes his way down to the ring. Austin stares him down while keeping his right arm leaning on the top rope. He's stopped pacing; his mind is only focused towards the man coming down that aisle. Vince sighs repeatedly as he avoids eye contact with the Rattlesnake as he makes it to the end of the ramp and up the steel steps. Hart: The chairman of the board, Vince McMahon. This should be interesting. DiBiase: You damn right, every time those two meet... something big goes down. Hart: Can't go wrong with this combination. Once Vince enters the ring, he stops and takes a deafening glare at Stone Cold Steve Austin, who doesn't hesitate to stare back. Vince clenches his jaw for a moment and recollects himself before stumbling towards the other edge of the ring, where he asks for a microphone. Once he receives it, he stares back at Austin and “No Chance In Hell” ceases to play. Another stare-down ensues between the two and Vince finally takes the stand as he casually places his other hand in his pocket while holding the microphone. Vince: Austin... don't do this. Stone Cold: Don't do what? What? What? [WHAT?] You think I give a damn about yer feelings? [WHAT?] You act like this is my first time doin' this. [WHAT?] You think I ain't bein' careful. [WHAT?] Well I don't see what Stone Cold Steve Austin has to be careful about. [WHAT?] I do see what Vince McMahon should be careful about... The crowd shouts “WHAT?” one last time and a slow cheer builds as Austin slowly advances towards the chairman, with daggering dangerous eyes all around. Vince makes one step back and places his hand forward. Vince: Austin, please. Let's talk about this. Let's TALK... [Austin then stops advancing] about this. You know, I would give you a title shot, Austin. I truly would. I think you have the potential, I think you have what is needed to be a serious contender, or a champion for that matter. Just... not... now. Slow boos emerge as Vince keeps his eyes locked on the Rattlesnake who then starts pacing around the ring like before. Vince continues to place his arm forward as Austin strokes his chin while doing the pacing. Vince: I know what you're gonna think, Stone Cold. That it's not fair or that you do deserve one now. But come on, who are we kidding? You just lost an International title match. You are not at the top of your game. I can name a handful of guys who deserve the shot at your place. You... are not ready, and until you are, I won't give you a shot at the World Heavyweight championship. The boos grow much louder this time as Austin grins while looking away from Vince, into oblivion. He's holding the top rope with his hand. He then replies after a moment of pondering. Stone Cold: I'm not ready, huh? Guess you were too stupid to listen back there why I lost the title match-- Vince: It's not just about that, Austin. And you know it. It's about... you. You don't have it anymore. It seems like you've just lost... it. That “it”, Austin, where is it? Where is the old Stone Cold who seemed unstoppable, the Texas Rattlesnake we all truly feared, where is that guy? WHERE IS HE? [approaches Austin] I'm not talking about winning a few matches here and there, I am talking about kicking ass!! Kicking ass like never seen before! Stomping a mudhole in sons of bitches! Make people fear you! Every time you used to walk down that down that ramp, you made the whole ring shake with intimidation, and all the superstars in it! Whether it was during a match or a promo. You were associated with trouble, dammit! Where is that Stone Cold? The Texas Rattlesnake looks down, flustered and pensive. He passes his hand through his bald hair, sighing a big load as he keeps the microphone stuck to his mouth. Vince stares at him with an air of desperation, moments before realizing what he's said, and what he might suffer for it. Stone Cold: You... you shouldn't have said that. [keeps head pointed down] You really... shouldn't have... Uh oh. Trouble in horizon. Vince's eyes widen for a second as he expects whatever he's gonna get. But his eyes suddenly stop widening and takes a more serious look as he keeps staring at Stone Cold? What gives? Vince: Alright, what is it? Are you gonna Stunner me again? Huh? Like you've done millions of times before? It never gets old, doesn't it? What are you gonna do to me, Austin? Because you might as well do it now. Come on. COME ON! Stunner me, Austin! Have a free shot! The crowd gradually cheers as they wanna see this happen. Vince approaches Austin a bit more as he wants him to get it done and over with. Austin stares at him, his hand still stuck on that bald head of his. He then grins as he approaches the chairman's face and whispers the next few words. Stone Cold: ...I'll do you one better. ...huh? The crowd is concerned at what he means by that. The glass shatters again as Austin's theme music hits as he keeps his blue eyes stuck on Vince as he exits the ring. Austin backs up the ramp, staring more and more at the troubled chairman, who then looks around him, as if there was a monster under the ring. When obviously, he's shit scared out of his mind by what Austin meant by that. We all know he's capable of anything. But what will that 'anything' be? We have to wait to find out. Cue commercial break. | |
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