Doublecross Promos.   Posted by David Diamond.Group: 0
David Diamond
 GM, 509 posts
 General Manager
 "The Perfect"
Wed 17 Aug 2016
at 03:08
Doublecross Promos
 Ok, Upperman's baby starts now.
Sydney J. Warcup
 player, 29 posts
Wed 17 Aug 2016
at 03:31
Doublecross Promo #1
Sydney J. Warcup gazes into a dressing room mirror as he applies a luscious chocolate brown lipstick.  His hair is practically dripping with hairspray.  Our hero is prettier than ever.  In a husky voice barely containing his excitement, he begins.

"Hey, big boy.  Yes, I'm talking to you, William Sherman.  It seems we have a date.  And not just any date... but a date with destiny.  At Doublecross, I'm going to teach you things about yourself that you don't want to know.  Things you've been hiding from your entire life.

"See, when you went to Paris and called her people gay, as if that were an insult, you revealed to me who you truly are.  Behind every big, tough  homophobic redneck Neanderthal, there's a cowering adolescent who lives in terror that he'll never get to try it up the (BLEEP!).  During our match, we'll explore that together.  I'll help guide you to who you truly are.  I hope you're excited, Willie... because I sure am.  You never thought you'd make it out of the closet, but daddy is here to break the door down for you.  You'll feel good when that moment comes, Billy Bob Billy.  So good that you won't even mind the referee counting one, two, three."

"Homophobia is about fear, my trailer-dwelling snuggle bear.  Not fear of homosexuals, but fear of being one.  You know you want it, William Sherman.  This is going a very long, hard match for you."

Sydney licks his lips, making the lipstick smooth and even.

"I'll make a deal with you, smoochie buns: when you come to Doublecross, bring the cheese... and I'll bring the sausage."

He purrs like a kitten as he leaves the dressing room.

This message was last edited by the player at 03:38, Wed 17 Aug 2016.

 player, 450 posts
Thu 18 Aug 2016
at 16:09
Spartan Doublecross Promo #1
“Are you serious?”

Upperman grinned as he sat back in the recliner at the mahogany desk. Putting his fat ankles up on the desk he looked at the big Greek with a look of contempt.

“Absolutely serious. Why?” he folded his arms in front of his chest as far as they could reach, seemingly unimpressed by the Olympian standing furiously in his office.

“A punishment match against Xander? Are you trying to break us up?” Spartan leaned in on Upperman, his big fists resting on the mahogany.

“Not at all. If you two want to keep up this Sons of Olympus nonsense, be my guest. Just remember that whoever loses that match is no longer represented by me.” He yawned, indicating that for him there was no problem at all.

“Damnit Blake,” Spartan cursed, “What kind of bullshit are you trying to play here? Xander and I are a team. You don’t break up a team!”

“I’m not breaking up anything,” Upperman smirked. So far his plans were working out just as he expected. “You two can fight each other and still remain a team. Just not under my management.”

“That’s just stupid,” the Kingslayer replied, anger building up. “You wanted to manage us, so manage us.”

“That’s what I am doing Thomas. I fully expect you to win that fight, and I will manage you like I always have. That means any unwanted elements will have to go. Wendy, Xander, they are all distractions. Distractions from what is really and truly important. That gold around your waist.”

“Sure, that’s why you create a different belt and give them the main event?”

“I have my reasons for that Thomas,” Upperman said as he leaned forward, his head resting on his hands. “At the moment every wrestler in the business has it out on you. They all want your belt. Ramses even contacted me to say he thought he deserved a shot. He has now. Everest, Plissken, even that Warcup fellow, they all want your gold. They need to be kept busy. Ramses with his gold, Plissken and Everest with each other, and Warcup… well… if his opponent can beat Mars, Warcup has his job cut out for him. My priority is what it always was Thomas… You.”

“Bullshit!” With one fell swipe Spartan cleaned the mahogany desk, tossing everything aside and grabbing the fat manager by his collar. He hoisted him up and pulled him closer, until both men were nearly touching noses. “If your priority was me, you would not have made up this stupid card Upperman. What if I decide not to compete? There's no way you can force me to fight my brother.”

“Put me down. Now!” Upperman snarled. As the greek dropped him back in his chair he looked at him directly, furious. “You will compete Thomas. If not, you are fired from the company. You see, I have all the contracts here, and I fully expect some of you to start refusing. But since Diamond gave me full control, I also have the control required to kick you out entirely. So at DoubleCross, you will either compete according to the match card, or you will be out of a job. You and anyone else that refuses. So tell Mars that when you talk to him.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Oh but I would Thomas. I would, and you know it. I try hard to be fair, because that is what YOU want. But I run this show now, its MY company untill after DoubleCross. Now you will do this, as MY client, because it is what I want. Are we clear on that?”

The greek turned and stormed out of the office, slamming the door on his way out. Staring at the spit container standing where the week before there had been a hamster cage Upperman said in mocked David Diamond voice, “Yes, you are right dribbles… a real temper…”

This message was last edited by the player at 16:11, Thu 18 Aug 2016.

Xander Mars
 player, 38 posts
 God of War!!
Fri 19 Aug 2016
at 17:12
Mars Doublecross Promo #1
“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely serious, why?” Upperman got a feeling he was repeating himself. With a grin he swung his legs on the desk, careful not to throw everything off again.

“The heavyweight title? Against Spartan?”

“Yes,” Upperman sighed, “Do I speak Chinese?”

Xander Mars, the tallest wrestler in NEW, stood at the mahogany desk, pondering what to do. Upperman saw the conflict written all over his face. At least it wasn’t rage like the other Son had shown him.

“And the loser is no longer managed by you?”

“What do you not understand about the phrase ‘Loser is fired from Upperman management’ Mars? English is not that hard now is it?” The smelly manager grinned. Once again his plan turned out to work just as he had planned. Thomas was furious, Mars intrigued. Even if the Greek refused to wrestle, Blake was sure the gigantic Roman would pick a fight. The mind of the Italian was pretty simple and easily manipulated.

“So I beat up Thomas, win the title, and you fire him? That’s just bullshit.”

“I really am repeating myself,” Upperman concluded with a wry smile. “Look, I don’t care how you two do it, I expect the both of you to put up a decent fight, and quite frankly the rest is none of your concern. If you make sure you win, you have no problem.”

“If I win my brother has a problem. If my brother has a problem, so do I.” The gladiator looked confused.

“I hope for your sake Spartan feels the same way Mars.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He looked positively puzzled now. Upperman couldn’t help but chuckle. This was even better than he had expected.

“What I mean, Xander, is that I hope for your sake Thomas feels the same way. But I am thinking he values the gold on his waist more than your pathetic excuse for a tag team.” Blake tried to sound sympathetic.

“He said that?” Anger began building on the Roman’s face. Anger, confusion, disbelief. This man was so easy to manipulate. For a moment Blake almost regretted he would have to fire him soon. Spartan was going to kick his ass so bad…

“Not in so many words Xander,” Upperman spoke softly, letting his words sink in. “He didn’t actually say he was going to beat you, but I am sure he will not let you take his title without a fight. And if keeping that title means breaking up your team, he will likely have no problem with that. So if I were you, I would think long and hard on where your loyalties lay.”

“He wouldn’t…”

“Oh, but he would. He would Xander, and you know it.” Upperman sat back, folding his hands across his oversized belly. “So take my advice. When you step in that arena at DoubleCross, give it everything you got. As your manager I cannot advise you anything less. Thomas Spartan is going to go all out to defend his title, and I suggest you do the same. I would hate to lose you as my client, so don’t let me down. Don’t let the fans down. And most of all, don’t let yourself down.”

Xander nodded. He turned and left the office, hastily and with large paces. Blake Upperman, manager of the Stars, grinned to himself. Shooting a glance at a spit pot standing where there used to be a hamster cage he muttered to himself, “What’s that Dribbles? Yes, yes indeed. An Idiot if ever I saw one.”
Tyson Gunn
 player, 37 posts
Fri 19 Aug 2016
at 19:13
Tyson Doublecross Promo #1
Ty sat on a bench in front of his hotel. The phone picked up on the third ring, "Hello?"

"Hey Dad, how's it going?"

"Tyson? It's midnight. What are you.... you've been drinking, haven't you?"

"Only a couple, but that was earlier. Just doin' some thinkin' and wanted some advice."

"What I'm here for."

"What am I doin' wrong? Twice already we had a shot at them Apex boys and we ain't come out on top yet. Now we got another shot at the tag belts, I figure better get some advice from some one that knows tag teamin'. What do Jay and I gotta do?"

"You gonna give up that goody two shoes bullshit Plissken dragged you into?"

"Dad! Nick didn't drag me into nuthin, and I'm in it for the long haul."

*laughs* "Fine, like you better bein' yerself than when they talked you into bein' a heel. First thing you and Rondel gotta do is stop thinkin' like two individuals. Yer a team, act like like it."

"We got each others backs."

"More to it than that son. You and Jay need to know each other's moves inside out. You want to win titles like Mike and I did, you need to know what yer parter is doin' next the same time he does."

"How do I do that?"

"Get yer tail in the ring with'em and throw each other around until the two of you can't stand a couple times. You'll figger things out after a couple slobberknockers with each other."

"If we don't end up hatin' each other in the process. You and Mike really do that when you were wrestlin'?"

"Twice a week, and you got Plissken  to knock sense into both of you if things get outta hand. And when yer done, go fer somethin' to eat or a coupla beers to go over what you did in the ring. Sound ideas off each other. Never know, might come up with a finishing move better than ours was"

"Since my ass ain't climbing the ropes, We ain't doin' nuthin like that dropkick slam combo you guys did. Leave that for the little guys."

*laughs* "Little guys? Wasn't for my neck, pretty sure this little old guy would still kick yer ass."

"Probly still after the belts too. Thanks Dad."

"Welcome, night Ty."

"Night Dad. Say hi to Mom for me." As Ty hung up his cell, he turned with a surprised look to the camera aimed at him and scowled. "What in the hell are you doin,?"

"Folks wanna get to know more about you Tyson now that the Wreckoning is growing in popularity. It's a good piece. Knowing you've got family values like Nick is a good thing." " the camera man replied.

"Well, I guess it don't hurt, long as you don't sneak up on me like that anymore. It's a southern thing, ain't nuthin more important than havin' strong family ties. That's what the Wreckoning is for us, a family. Tyson smiled " The main thing the fans need to know is come Doublecross, it don't matter what kind of match Upperman throws at us, we got our shot at Riley and Cole. They beat us with help the first time we danced, that ain't gonna happen this time. Apex best be on their toes this time, or the Wreckoning is gonna stomp all over 'em."
Jay Rondel
 player, 103 posts
Fri 19 Aug 2016
at 21:44
Tyson Doublecross Promo #1
A video marked "Travelogue is uploaded to

The video is spliced together footage taken with a home video camera.  Shots of walking through the Parthenon, the acropolis, the temple of Athena Nike, and other famous landmarks are spliced together, with Jay's voice narrating.

"Look at you have any idea what we've got here?  Not here here, but Greece.  This is one of the birthplaces of all modern competitive sports.  Thousands of yearsd ago, the first Olympic Games were held in Greece.  And even back then, you had wrestling and pankration.  Two different, exciting ways to throw a few guys in a ring and let them beat each other senseless."

"Right about now, I think a lot of people have forgotten something simple.  They're so focused on the Wreckoning that they forget that Tyson and I are still our own people.  That we're still two of the most talented, toughest sons of bitches stepping between the ropes in NEW. We don't have to worry about a movement at Doublecross.  We just need to step in the ring and bring a world of hurt to earn those titles.  In hlonor of thousands of years of athletetes and competitors putting it all on the line, we're going to step up and take those titles because we are the best around."

Pantalones Lobos
 player, 27 posts
 Nobody gives me respect,
 so I pay back in kind.
Sat 20 Aug 2016
at 05:38
Lobos Doublecross Promo #1
As he walks down the hall, gently swinging the large aluminum case in his right hand, he keeps beckoning for the camera to follow him. As the cameraman lags a bit, the man comes back and reaches with his free hand as if to grab the cameraman's collar and pull him along. In a thick accent that immediately places his origin south of the border, he demands aggrievedly, "no stop, know what I am doing."
Whether from the tone of those remarks or the impetus imparted by the tug on his shirt, the cameraman continues to follow as the man walks through a door into a gymnasium. The cameraman must see their target before the man with the case, because he suddenly darts ahead. The camera's focus drops to the floor and the voice of the cameraman floats over the view of T-shaped steel tubes supporting vinyl-covered benches. "Me obligó a filmar esto, por favor, no me hagas daño, señor Locos."
Pantalones Lobos is heard, but not seen, as he eloquently exclaims, "wothahell"
before exclaiming loudly "FRANCISCO! What are you doing, here?"
The cameraman must have decided he no longer has a problem as the camera swings up in time to catch Lobos enthusiastically shaking the hand of the man with the suitcase. "Seeing you is why I've come. No delight in you has the judge, no show you. Justice is done. To you is property returned. English I practice to tell you."
Lobos is smiling, it's a toss up as to whether the smile is generated by happiness on seeing an old friend or mirth at the idea that Francisco's thick accent and almost impenetrable diction is the result of practice. "You do sound better, but you didn't have to practice. I always understood you, before, when it wasn't English. But you can't have come all the way to Greece just for that. What's going on?"
Francisco pulls a piece of paper from his pocket, looks at the paper, looks at Lobos, and shoves the paper at the cameraman, saying "leelo."
The camera jiggles, although the view doesn't shift left to right in a contrived indication of a negative head shake, the voice of the cameraman seems suggestive of the fact as he says, "no puedo."
Francisco takes a deep breath and composes himself, but before he reads anything, says, "Shane, you, my friend. Escribí esto... this... to be sure I say right. Eh?"
Lobos says, "Desde el incidente con las damas de Pachuca, no podemos ser otra cosa."
"But, I'm not Shane, anymore. I changed my name to Pantalones Lobos."

"Una letra equivocada."
Francisco looks pained. He holds up his left hand, then begins to read the paper. "Shane... eh?"
After looking at Lobos with a shrug, Francisco plows on. "When I was down, you picked me up. I had forgotten what was important, through years of calling myself the greatest wrestler and being proved wrong. It wasn't about the money, there had been little enough of that for some time. It wasn't about the fame, the mask was famous and I was not. It wasn't about the trophies or the belts or the titles, I had enough of those. All I wanted to do was win, and I did so in any way I could."
"The first time we wrestled was the last match I was ever in. You had me, at least three times. I pulled your tights, pulled your hair, poked your eyes, and even resorted to faul. You wrestled me. The entire time, you were smiling. When I finally pinned you, and it was time to cut your hair, you made us do it on the mat so they could watch. You even thanked me for a good match! No one had thanked me in years."
"You were better than I was, but you were matching independently. You needed a manager, so I became a manager and talked you into signing with me. Yes, I was Tinieblas II who took your hair in your first match. You were very like what I thought I was when I started out. I didn't want you to become like me. I wanted to become like you. When you started to lose, and decided you needed a new look, I went to the man who gave me my mask. He said he would make you a special one. I didn't know what he was going to do."
"The asylum in Oaxaca uses these long sleeved tube things to restrain their patients. They have to replace them as the patients tear them up, so that was the fabric your mask was made of. That was why you were out of control when you put on the mask. I know, you were winning. But the way you were winning wasn't something the fans wanted to see, your opponents were never going to tell you it was a good match, and eventually you would be a washed up old man cheating to win against the best wrestler he had ever seen."
"I brought your masks, and the other valuables that were recovered. They belong to you, and no one else should wear them. But neither should you, because when you put on the mask, you aren't you. That's also why I won't take you back to Veracruz. You are more than the mask, and you are better than the mask! Stay here, and be the champion I knew you were when I first met you."

There is silence for a moment, then Lobos looks at Francisco and laughs. "I was worried, for a bit. You're right, about most of it. You were the best manager a young wrestler could want, and you better pick another one to bring up! But I was worried you were going to ask me to go back with you. I'm doing good here. Don't lose my temper... much. There's nice people inside and outside the ring. I even got a shot at a title, here. I'm sorry you had to go this far, just to tell me you wanted me to do what I wanted to do."
Francisco looks like someone just pulled the thorn from his paw. "I'm to look here at a young guy to take back there, also."
Lobos nods, "Great! If you want to see the match, I got the usual complementaries you could have."
Francisco nods enthusiastically. Lobos looks at the suitcase. "I think I better lock that thing up, somewhere, though. That was the one thing you got wrong, though. Those masks are just masks. That psychopath in the mask, that one's on me, Francisco. Ain't nobody but me."
 player, 451 posts
Mon 22 Aug 2016
at 13:40
Spartan Doublecross Promo #2
“Kalimera Mama,” Thomas Spartan laughed as he ducked low to enter the small kitchen. It was an old kitchen, with a wood stove, worn green tiles and a large wooden table. A wall length window to the south let in the warm greek sun, treating those inside to a view of the olive orchards in the valley below. At the worn wooden table an old lady sat peeling oranges.

“Oraio na dei, gio mou,” the old lady screamed out with big eyes as the Greek walked in. He made sure to keep his head bent as to not hit the ceiling. “Why you not come sooner to visit your mama?” the lady proclaimed as she got up as fast as she could. She stepped forward, reached up as high as she could, and slapped Thomas in the face. Immediately after all 5 feet of her grabbed him to hug him tightly. Spartan let it all happen with a grin.

“I have been busy mama,” the giant defended himself, a smile dominating his face. “How is papa?”
Spartan’s mother threw her hands up and started rambling in Greek, too fast for even the champion to follow. He had really been away too long, and if she was on a roll, even most Greeks couldn’t understand her. The message was clear though, as it always was. His stepfather was probably fishing at the creek behind their house, and mother as usually thought it a waste of his time. She always cussed the old man for his hobby.

As she hurried to put a kettle on the woodstove Spartan sat at the big table, soaking up his surroundings. It had been a couple of years since he had last sat in that kitchen. Ever since he had decided to go back to the united states and try his luck wrestling, he had only met his parents in hotels or on the road. But now, with DoubleCross being in Athens, he had taken the time to travel east to the small village of Merete, near Porto Rafi.

For a moment he sat with his mother as she talked and talked about the neighbours, his father’s useless hobby, of his brother’s car company and one of his sister’s jackass of a husband. Then she suddenly stopped her rambling and looked him in the eyes.
She knew.
She always knew. It continued to surprise him every time. She always knew when he had something on his mind, when something weighed heavy on him.

“Tell your mama what is wrong,” she ordered him as she poured up the tea. She then made him a bowl of olives and tomato, topped with some balsamico oil. Good for the blood, she used to say. She knew he hated olives. Spartan took the tea and sipped it in silence. Wiping her hands on her apron his mother sat down opposite him, staring at his eyes. The tiny woman had a way of making him feel small looking into his eyes. The windows to his soul, she usually claimed.

“It’s nothing mama,” the shorter half of the Sons of Olympus said after a while. “Work. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“But you do worry,” his mother concluded, “So talk to mama, what is on your mind?”
Spartan shrugged, staring at his teacup.

“Tomaso Sparta, talk to your mama!” Her voice was filled with fury, the only fury he had ever dreaded.

“I have to wrestle my brother Xander mama. Wrestle him, and beat him, or lose my manager.”

“Proistameno sas? Afto choiron?” Her opinion on Blake was clear, as it had always been.

“Yes, that pig Upperman mama, my manager. He ordered us to fight each other for the title, and the loser is fired from his management. I fear it will drive a wedge between Xander and me.”

“Silly boy,”
mama replied, choosing her words carefully, seemingly struggling with the English after all her years in Greece. “You both don’t need that man. I thought you had gotten rid of him? Your father told me that a few weeks ago when he watched a match at the tavern. Why did you go back to him?”

“I need him, unfortunately. Wrestling becomes politics really quickly once you win the title. I know nothing of politics. I need Upperman to handle the business side of being a champion. The political side.”

“Politiki, politiki,” mother Spartan spat the words out like they were pure filth. Spartan raised his hands in a helpless gesture, but his mother would have none of that. “Pali den einai politiki. Silly boy, you just do what you do best. You wrestle. People will value you for that, not for politics. Have you talked to Xander about this yet?”
Again the big Greek shrugged.

“Go talk to him Tomaso. Tell him what troubles you. He will probably feel the same way. If your bond is strong enough, you will find a way out, both of you. Leave politics for politicians. It corrupts you. Leave it to them. They are used to it.”

“He doesn’t answer my calls. I haven’t spoken to him since the match was called out.”

“Then go and find him. He is seven feet tall. How hard can it be to find a seven foot tall wrestler in Athena?”

“You are right as always mama,” Thomas smiled as he stood up and gave her a hug. As he let go she slapped him in the face again. He looked at her in confusion. “What was that for?”

“Sit down and eat your olives,” his mother ordered.
Nick Plissken
 player, 384 posts
 Most Dangerous Man Walkin
 Wrestling God...zilla
Mon 22 Aug 2016
at 13:56
Doublecross Promo #1

And then,

Nick Plissken walks out to a thunderous ovation. He stalks to the ring with a purpose. He paces back and forth between the ropes a couple times before finally holding the mic to his lips.

"I'm constantly tellin' folks that I ain't really mad, just intense. Well tonight that ain't the case. I'm pissed. It usually takes a lot to do that and a bunch of little shit has added up.

"So let's list 'em. Warcrap hittin' me with a low blow and then pretendin' like he's actually good enough to beat me. Jay and Tyson losin' the title match because Apex can't win in a straight fight and have to cheat. Then them cheatin' again to beat all three of us. Mars gettin' a title match for no other reason than because he's managed by that walkin' talkin' turd too. And then he and Spartan wanna bitch about fightin' their 'brother'. Neither one of 'em have a real brother obviously. The man who I've had the most fights with in my life is Dewayne Plissken, second place ain't even close. On top of that if I'm booked against one of the other Wreckoners we'll just come out to the ring, beat the shit out of each other, then the winner will help up the loser and we'll go have a beer. Ain't nothin' to cry about.

"Then we've got the way everybody's been talkin' 'bout the Wreckoning. And me. Yes, we do care about fair play but we ain't a self proclaimed police force. Everbody wants to throw that in our faces like we've got some kind of weird motive we ain't discussin'. Bottom line is this: you've all heard me talk, you know how much this sport means to me. And it is a sport by god. I play by the rules because I want to prove that I'm the best. This ain't some bar room brawl, this is a goddamn competition. People lose their shit when a football is under-inflated by a hair but if some bastard kicks a wrestler in the balls then "That's just wrestling."  Horseshit. If somebody can't win within the bounds of the rules then they're either a pansy who can't take a loss like a damn adult or they're just not good enough to be here. Like Cole said, anybody can swing a chair. I bet Rob Peck's little sister could hit Spartan hard enough with a chair to get a pinfall. Does that mean she deserves to be champ? You don't see people in the UFC get by with junk like that and that's why people like Connor Mcgregor make fun of pro wrestling. I'll tell ya what Connor, when I win the belt you are welcome to challenge me for it anyday and I'll smack the smart-ass right out of ya."

At the mention of Mcgregor the crowd boos loudly but Plissken's promise turns them to cheers just as loud, if not louder.

Plissken pauses for a moment before pushing on. "Before i say what I'm about to I wanna tell you people that I appreciate y'all cheerin' for me. I appreciate everybody who buys my shirts and pays to be here in the arena. And I appreciate people who don't spend their money and just watch from home just as much.

"The next thing that pisses me off is people thinkin' I've gone soft. I came in here with a bad attitude and ever since I got my head outta my ass and started appreciating the fact that y'all pay my salary the wrestlers 'round here think I made some big change to who I am. They forget this ain't some tv show. I'm a real person, not some character who can be defined by one phrase. I didn't spontaneously start lovin' my Mama when I started gettin' cheered, family has always been important to me. But more importantly I'm still that mean, hateful son of a bitch who gets in the ring because I enjoy beatin' the shit outta people."

Every ass in the house jumps out of their seats to cheer at that.

"As much as I appreciate y'all I ain't here for you, I'm here to drop people on their heads and win matches. Anybody who thinks playin' by the rules makes ya a pussy can just ask any of the people who've had the displeasure to feel the DDT. Playin' by the rules is the reason me, Gunn, and Rondel could fight each other with none of that drama queen bullshit. After the match we know that the better man won. We won't have any funny business to complain about.

"But the main thing is Lowerman's antics. Holy hell is is he on a tear of bullshit lately. Settin' up a fourway title match so that I don't get the chance to fight Sparky one-on-one. Tryin' to pass off this new Upperman European belt as better than the world championship. Yeah, the belt that only covers one continent is better than bein' champion of the world. And then he's so full of himself that he put his own name on the belt. What the hell? Maybe if you wanted to put a great wrestlers name on it that would work, I think it'd still be stupid, but Upperman?"
Plissken shakes his head, "There's not a word strong enough to describe just how stupid that is.

"And of course there's the elephant in the room. My match against Everest. Aside from the attempt to insult us with the idiot bullshit this is basically an 'I Quit' match. Which is still a stupid idea on its own. That kind of match is usually saved for two guys who hate and want to embarrass each other. That ain't the case here. And I ain't gonna quit, it just aint in me. I get the feelin' Everest is the same way."

"So at Doublecross me and Everest will go beat the hell out of each other and if a pin ain't good enough to end the match then I reckon nobody will get to see the rest of the matches because our's is gonna last all night."

Another explosion of cheers.

"The thing that really pisses me off is that all that crap really adds up to Lowerman just disrespectin' this sport. That ain't somethin' you wanna do boy. So if you see me walkin' down a hallway at ya Lowerman you had best turn around and run the other way."

Nick throws the mic down and walk out as the crowd chants, PLISSKEN'S GONNA CRUSH YOU!
Xander Mars
 player, 40 posts
 God of War!!
Fri 26 Aug 2016
at 09:36
Doublecross Promo #2
Xander looked at the young jobber, content at his size and musculature. At least size-wise the kid could match Spartan. He was almost the same weight too, making him a perfect sparring partner. The local gym he had found him at was a shabby place, most of the equipment at least fifty years old. It meant he had to get back to basics. No ring, no ropes, just a mat to practice on.

“Again, try to spear me like Spartan would.”
The jobber came rushing, his head lowered like a battering ram. Not even close to the style of the big Greek, but it mattered little to practice counters. As soon as the kid came close enough Mars lifted his knee, flattening the man’s nose with a loud crack and a spray of coppery blood.

Camera Joe zoomed in at the blood, amused at the showing he was receiving.
“Looks like you’ll need another one Mars,” Joe stated as they saw the jobber toss his towel on the mat and head for the lockers. “Maybe you shouldn’t hurt them so much.”
“Nobody asked you,” Mars snarled as he moved to a punching bag and started hitting it. There was no tactics, no style, in his hits. Just pure rage, aggression, power.

“Are you afraid he might beat you?” Joe decided to pour some oil on the fire.

“Beat me? He cannot beat me!” Mars clobbered the punchbag. “No, if he wants to fight, he can have a fight. Betray me? Me?! The only one who stood by him through everything, the only one believing in his skills, the only one knowing that he would be the champion… Betray me? I will tear him apart, that’s what will happen.”

“Have you spoken to him at all lately?”

“I don’t want to talk to that traitor. He values his title more than our friendship. Fine. He wants to ruin our friendship over Upperman or some gold belt? Fine. I’ll take the belt then, and he can shove our friendship up his ass.”

“Sounds like you two have some issues,” Joe chuckled. “Maybe you should talk them out.”

“Get the hell out of here Joe,” Mars cursed as he hit the bag ever harder, his knuckles bleeding. “I will not talk to him. I will beat him senseless.”

“Have it your way buddy,” Joe said as he took the camera off his shoulder. “But seriously Xander, I really think you should…”

The segment cut to commercials.
Jack 'Union Jack' Riley
 player, 120 posts
 High Flying Gentleman
Sun 28 Aug 2016
at 00:38
Doublecross Promo #1
“And again!” Ramses ordered.
Jack Riley grinned as Hunter shot him a deadly glance. Most likely the Australian was in as much pain as he was. He couldn’t be bothered to care though. If they were to keep the tag title they would have to be better at working together. A normal tag match, sure, as you were in that ring alone, they managed well enough. But tornado tag, in that ring together, well, that needed work. Crunch and Doom came barreling at the men again, for about the twentieth time now, and once again Jack took to a run, jumping up and planting one foot firmly on Cole’s back. Once more he placed his foot wrong, veering too much to the left this time. Cole cursed at the stomp to his back. Again the jumping crossbody failed as Crunch dodged the Gentlemen’s Gentleman with a grin and Doom simply caught him and slammed him to the mat. Both Mobsters laughed aloud, not even sweating.

“Simpletons! Again!” Ramses was not amused.

“Now wait a minute,” Riley snarled as he stood up again, flexing his shoulders to ease some of the pain. “Look, I understand we need to work on team moves, but clearly this jumping off Cole’s back into the opponent is not going to work.”

“Yeah, Brit-boy here will break me spine before he gets his footing right. We need something different. These moves might work for those two, but not for us.”


Riley and Cole looked at each other and shrugged. Once again Crunch and Doom came barreling at them, and Jack used Cole as a springboard again. And, as all the times before, once again the move failed, this time with Jack veering off to the right even as Cole got slammed face first into the mat because of the wrong footing.
Crunch and Doom could hardly stop laughing. Without even speaking to each other they showed the title holders exactly how the move was done, Doom sinking to a knee as Crunch launched himself cross body into the two who were just getting back up.
Next to the ring Ramses sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“How did you two ever become the champions?” the pharaoh wondered.

“We fought our own game mate,” Cole stated, massaging his lower back with one hand. “Mr. Village people here didn’t try to use me as a jump rope. He didn’t need to.”

“Exactly,” Union Jack agreed, “Just like I don’t mind a guy getting on his knees for me, but not for me to jump off him. This clearly isn’t working.”

“So then what do you suggest?”
Ramses sighed.

“I suggest a beer,”
Cole concluded.

“And a wine,” Riley added.

“Gaze upon these idiots ye mighty!” Ramses cried out as he threw his arms to the heavens, “And despair.”

“Look,” Riley said as he flexed his ankle, “We need to sit down and come up with a game plan. Both of us can wrestle well enough, we have that title for a reason. As long as we watch each other’s backs we will be fine.”

“Watching backs, his specialty,” in the other corner Doom chuckled. Riley shot him a furious glare.

“He’s right,” Cole chimed. “All we have to do is make sure they do not team up on us. Pick a target and stick to it. Get them down and pin them, and keep them from helping each other.”

“Worst case you come out and help us.”

“That would get you disqualified idiots!” Ramses shook his head.

“Yep,” both tag champions agreed. “We’d win by losing. We’d keep the title.”

For a moment the pharaoh seemed to think about that idea. Then he shrugged, still shaking his head at their incompetence.
“That just might be your only chance.”
 player, 269 posts
 Grizzled Survivor
 Face-leaning Tweener
Sun 28 Aug 2016
at 06:41
Doublecross Promo #1
It's late afternoon, just as Upperman is making his grand presentation of his ultimate dream, the UEC. But Everest, who had told him to stuff the UEC belt where the sun didn't shine, wasn't anywhere near there. Instead, he was sitting on a bench near the court-house, eating a cheese and onion pasty and digesting some inconvenient news. The hearing for Wendy had been set for the day after the PPV, meaning that he was going to have to do some serious flying to get back to the US, testify, then get to the next venue. He hoped that DD would help him arrange that.

Joe was sitting nearby, on his phone, checking the internet. He'd been there to show his support, after Everest had impressed upon him the seriousness of Upperman's charges, and what Everest thought of 'stabbing friends in the back when they need it most.' Joe was not a bad man, but even reasonably good people sometimes need a threatening pep talk to do the right thing. Then, he gasped.
"Everest, you need to see this" he said urgently "Upperman's released the card." Joe passes the phone over to the big guy, who stares at it for a second. Then he begins to laugh.

"Oh no... Not again" Joe laments as Everest cackles like a hyena. "C'mon man, I thought you were over this hysterical laughter thing. Everest begins to compose himself.
"Only on camera," he replies, "Besides, this is legitimately hilarious, in all the wrong ways." He stretches. "Y'know what, get your camera out..."

"This is Joe Gilligan for NEW, and I'm here with Everest to discuss the card for Blake Upperman's aptly named Pay-Per-View Doublecross." He looks a lot more composed this time, the time in front of the camera seems to have helped. Everest has returned to his usual straight-faced stare by this point.
"As usual, the so called manager to the stars has stamped his greasy mitts over everything. We have a firing and a 'steel dome' match that everyone is speculating will be held in an actual steel dome. Word from the wise, Upperman, you might want to pick something that's transparent." Joe stifles a laugh.
"We do have the tornado tag tournament and the Sons of Olympus fights though." he adds, trying to balance the opinions. It wasn't going to work.
"Well, the first one was practically gift wrapped to him. Hopefully the Wreckoning can pull something off there. As for Rome vs Sparta, I think it's pretty clear that something's up there. Either Upperman wants to swap protigees, or he just wants Mars out of their lives for good. Whatever happens, it's going to be bloody."

"And the UEC?" Joe asks, knowing full well what the reply would be.
"Well, Upperman decided not to just give Pharaoh Nuff the shiny trinket and make him fight WolfPants for it. Who knows, maybe they'll be able to give it some kind of prestige, or as much as you can give to a belt with that ludicrous face on it." He sighs. "Ok, I did your analysis for you, can I start ranting now?" Joe nods, and hands over the microphone, moving behind the camera and pointing it directly at Everest. "Right. So. The only match we didn't cover in that segment was the ridiculous fight scheduled between Mr. Plissken and I, and only because I wanted to say what I thought without any claim of being unbiased. So here it is, unvarnished and probably badly worded."

"Upperman, are you sure you're feeling ok? Because Nick and I aren't the sort of low-level rats you take us for. We fight until we pass out, we never surrender and we don't cheat. If you honestly think this is going to be like The Rock vs Mankind, then you know us much less than you think you do. But then, you try to manipulate everyone and think that it will never turn around and bite you in the arse. Enjoy it while you can; your time is coming. "

"I was tempted to suggest we play Monopoly or Yahtzee in the middle of the ring, but I'm sure Nick wouldn't approve and I know deep down our pride wouldn't let us do it anyway. I respect him, but he thinks that any multi-man fight was him being cheated of the belt that he feels is rightfully his. Well, Nick, you have yet to best me. If Upperman gets some brains in his skull and gives us a reasonable stipulation, then we can finally have the clash that the NEW has spent months clamouring for. And if not, then we'll just knock seven bells out of each other and see what happens. And that's all I have to say about that. Now, if you excuse me, I need to go and prepare.

Everest moves off camera.
"Wait, any words on the Wendy Reed situation?" Joe adds. Everest runs back into shot.
"No." he responds sharply and walks off again.
"Right. Well, this has been Joe Gilligan from NEW. He's Everest. See you in Athens."
The camera is switched off.
Tyson Gunn
 player, 39 posts
Sun 28 Aug 2016
at 08:46
Doublecross Promo #2
The camera turns on , recording a few establishing shots of the arena in Athens. The NEW cameraman turns to walk back through the backstage area. He sees one of the medical staff running up to him and stops. He points th camera at the ground but doesn't turn it off.

"Are you busy?"

"Not this second."

"Go down to the practice ring and tell those Wreckoning boys to quit sending people to the training room, there's only so many of us."

"Hey, I ain't telling them to do anything!"

"Well then ask them nicely please?"

The cameraman sighs and starts walking.

The video picks back up when he's outside the practice room. He sighs again and walks through the door.

Jay Rondel and Tyson Gunn are in the ring going at it like they are in a championship match. Throwing blows that could crush bone and putting on holds that could remove limbs, on lesser men.

Nick Plissken is outside the ring looking on. The camerman makes his way over to Plissken.

"Excuse me Mr. Plissken? The medical staff wants me to ask you guys to stop sending guys to see them."

Plissken continues standing as he was but cuts his eyes over to the newcomer.

"I'm just a messenger!"

"Its alright. They're just lookin' out for the athletes here. But don't worry, we ran out of guys willin' to fight against 'em anyway. And apparently Gunn's Daddy thinks they need to fight each other to get their teamwork down."

The camera swings up to look in the ring as a lull in the action pops up.

Tyson wiped some of the sweat from his brow before starting to circle in the ring, chest heaving a bit as he caught his breath for a moment. He circled passed the camera set up below, but tried to ignore it and focus on his teammate. "Ready to go again?" He asked across the sparring ring, " You looked like you hit that buckle harder than I planned. Hope I didn't hurt ya." He grinned as he stepped forward towards Jay, and the two locked up again to resume thrashing on one another.

"How are they going to compete Sunday after this kind of beating?" The cameraman asks in awe.

"Heh, those are two of the toughest sum-bitches I ever seen. They'll be fine. Its Apex that best be worried, if these two are willin' to do that to each other in practice can you imagine what they'll do to them?"

" Hey, got an idea. Jay, if you release that gargoyle suplex of yours right into my carpet bomb, ain't nobody getting up from a double team like that before a three count. We need someone to try it out on." He looked out of the ring with a grin, " Hey Nick, you bring yer boots? Got something we wanna show ya."

Camera Dude gulps audibly. "I'd hate to be in their shoes, that's for sure."
Tyson Gunn
 player, 40 posts
Sun 28 Aug 2016
at 08:54
Doublecross Promo #3
The familiar music of the Wreckoning  brought the fans to their feet and a roar came over the area. Tyson came out on the stage with his arms up, and walked down the ramp first as the ring announcer rushed to introduce him.

"What is this idiot doing out here already?"  Devin Danvers sputtered, shuffling threw his papers.

"I'm not sure. The ring crew just barely cleared the ring and we should have had a couple minutes before the two teams come to the ring." Adam Little replied, sounding a little bewildered as well.

He high fived fans that could reach as he quickly made his way down to the ring, circling around to the left, letting the fans pump him up. When he got to the announcers table, he stopped by one little girl, ten at the most, holding a "Wreck Apex" sign over the guard rails. With a big grin, he took off his trucker cap and put it on the girl's head backwards to her delight.

"Seems like he's a little more pumped up than usual." Adam said

"Didn't think that was possi... HEY," Devin protested as Tyson slapped him in the back of the head to distract him, then dove into the ring with his microphone. Adam had to cover his to keep the audience from hearing his chuckles.

Clearly proud of himself, Ty waved to the fans before hopping up to sit on a turn buckle so he was facing the entrance ramp. "I know, I'm a lil' early, but are you folks enjoyin' a great night or what?"

He held the mic out to the cheers of the audience. Ty nodded in agreement. "And I know y'all have seen what's gone on between us and Apex over the past month," he paused until the boos lowered a bit. "I admit it ain't been fun and games, but that's what this business is about. But tonight is gonna be a little different. I saw the video of Riley and Cole dancing with Dumb and Dumber while the big dog himself watched, and to be honest, I ain't impressed."

He lowered his mic for a moment as the crowd reacted," Now, did y'all see how Jay and I prepared for tonight? That's right, when we ran out of volunteers to spar with, we through each other around. That's how I got this," he pointed to the light swelling around his left eye. "That's right,  my partner gave me a shiner in the practice ring. That's how serious we're takin' tonight. Hunter, Jack, I hope you boys are listenin' backstage. Get your big boy panties on tonight and put yer doc on speed dial, because yer in for one helluva beatin' tonight when we take them belts from ya. Ya see, Jay's gonna bend and stretch ya in ways you never though possible. Me, I'll be happy to plant yer melons thru the ring. And if the Mob or Ramses wanna get involved, we'll handle yer asses too."

He smiled as the crowd ate up his speel. "And that's before we show off the new stuff we figured out together. So Jay, looks like they want me to shuddup, so I guess they're ready for ya." He was about to drop the mic  as he slid down to his feet, then smirked and looked out around the audience. " Athens, let the Wreckoning begin." He turned and tossed the mic at an annoyed looking Danvers.
Sydney J. Warcup
 player, 35 posts
Sun 28 Aug 2016
at 10:02
Doublecross Promo #3
In front of the many pillared majesty that is the Parthenon stands our oiled-up, bare-chested hero, Sydney J. Warcup.  As he speaks, he strikes one heroic pose after another.  Nearby, seemingly out out of place, is a large vase of ancient design.

"Sherman, Sherman, Sherman.  How long I and the other lovers of wrestling have been waiting for you to get off your lazy, homophobic ass and do a promo.  But if I keep waiting, it will soon be too late.  How you disappoint me, and the fans of NEW.  I guess I'll just have to promote this match all by my lonesome.  That's okay... it's not like anybody really wants to hear what happens when you attempt to express a thought and spit it past those buck teeth.  If you'd been around in the time of Socrates, he would have deep-throated that hemlock a whole lot faster, and probably would have asked for seconds.

"Speaking of, don't you think it's almost cosmically appropriate that our match is taking place in Athens, Greece... the place where anal sex was invented?  I'm not sure you'll be able to keep those redneck hormones of yours under control as I rear mount you and begin slowly choking you into oblivion.  I think something might poke its head out of those lacy panties you call trunks... and this might be worse than the hydra; not even Hercules will be able to control this one-eyed beast.  Better call in Odysseus to blind that sucker, before it kills us all.  Conjure up all of the heroes and gods, because when your clammy, grits-fed flesh makes contact with this better-than-Adonis body, you won't be able to control yourself.  Total chaos will be unleashed.  And in the midst of that chaos, I, Sydney J. Warcup, will emerge victorious.  I will come home carrying the torch of victory.

"You, on the other hand, will return with a new understanding of yourself.  You'll understand that the real reason you've hated gays, women and people of color your entire life isn't because there was ever anything wrong with them.  All along, it was because you always wanted to be a rock boss's jail bitch, but you never had the guts to bend over and take it like a real man.  But all you needed was to find that special someone to tell you to pick up the soap.  Tonight, at Doublecross, I'll be that special someone."

Sydney stops flexing and kneels beside the amphora.  As he turns it, we see images of a smaller wrestler mounting a larger one from behind.  Obviously, the figures represent Sydney and Sherman.

"Be sure to watch Doublecross, when I bear the living hell out of a self-loathing white ape named William Sherman.  We'll march to his sea together.  It's gonna be a classic."

This message was last edited by the player at 20:28, Sun 28 Aug 2016.

Xander Mars
 player, 41 posts
 God of War!!
Sun 28 Aug 2016
at 10:17
Doublecross Promo #3
“What the hell do you want?” Mars practicalloy growled as he picked up the phone held out to him by the gym owner. So the greek had finally tracked him down. Not that it mattered, there was just a few hours left until DoubleCross, he wouldn’t have time for trickery.

“To talk to you, that’s all. Can’t a man talk to his best friend anymore?”

“Best friend my ass!” Xander snarled, punching the wall next to the telephone, sending plasterwork flying. ”Upperman told me all about you. You dare to call me best friend while you plan on betraying me. Some friend there Thomas.”

“What the hell are you talking about Xander? I expected you to know me better by now, I...”

“You only care about that gold of yours, and now you want to talk me out of fighting right? Let me tell you right now, tonight, in that ring, you better come prepared to fight. Because I sure am, and I’m not letting you fast-talk me out of it. You only value that title, so I’m going to come and take it. You wanted to betray me. That’s your business, your doing. Our friendship was obviously worth nothing to you.”

“That’s stupid Xander, our friendship is everything to me. And yeah, well, I do want to talk about that match at doublecross yes, but…”

“I have nothing to say to you!”

Mars hung up the phone, furious. The audacity to actually call him and just like Upperman had said try to talk him out of the title fight. The man had no honour. He returned to the ring, to another big young wrestler he had given a few bucks for a sparring session. Quickly he was using him as a punching bag.
Ramses XII
 Pharaoh, 76 posts
Sun 28 Aug 2016
at 12:00
Doublecross Promo
 Ramses sit backstage, wearing regular clothing a normal person would wear and not in a special location or anything that is typical for the Egyptian "Royal". Wendy Reed finally catches up with him.

 "Um, Mr. Ramses, sir? Shouldn't you be getting read for your match?"

 "Why? The management for this is a joke and the championship is not what I asked for when I requested a title shot. Even if that rat's name was not attached to that belt, do I look European to you? I will go out there and make a token effort to compete, but know that it will be far from my best effort."

Ramses stood up and simply walked away.
David Diamond
 GM, 515 posts
 General Manager
 "The Perfect"
Sun 28 Aug 2016
at 12:09
Diamond's Vacation Promo
 A voice over by David Diamond while photos drop on a table to illustrate what he is talking about.

"Hey everyone! I hope you're enjoying the Pay Per View. I am putting a lot of faith in Blake Upperman and hope I won't have to do my angry dance when I get back. Anyway, I've been traveling the country to see some of the famous tourist traps the United states has to offer. Here's me on the world famous Route 66... And here's me at the world's biggest ball of twine in Minnesota. This is me standing in line to buy a ticket to Doublecross. That's right, I'm gonna be right here in the audience as a customer among the people for this Pay Per View. I look forward to being a loud obnoxious fan cheering who I like and booing who I don't like. It'll be fun. See you there!"

 The segment ends.
 player, 454 posts
Sun 28 Aug 2016
at 12:25
Spartan DoubleCross promo 3
Despite the entire evening being a mockery, an insult to wrestling, the crowd was eating it all up. It hardly ever happened that a big American promotion like NEW came to Greece, and especially when they had a Greek champion, and the Athens crowd made sure they would want to come back next year. The arena was completely sold out, and Greece would not be Greece if not at least ten thousand people more had managed to squeeze themselves into the audience attending.

Georgios was enjoying every minute of it. He and the other kids in the orphanage had been gifted tickets, like many other orphanages around the area. Despite not knowing who they were from the kids had managed to convince Brother Demeter to go with them, since all the other friars were way to old for a thing like wrestling.
Sure, the seats weren’t great, the wrestlers down in the ring barely bigger than his action figures, but man, what atmosphere. What an excitement. And most important, the Champion would be fighting next. As the lights in the arena dimmed Georgios sat at the edge of his seat, staring at that small ring below him to make sure he would not miss a thing.

Slowly the lighting came back on, bathing the arena in a ghastly red hue. The entry stage and ramp were lit up, as was the ring, giving the crowd a feeling of closeness despite the massive arena around them. Georgios couldn’t help but clap to the beat, as more and more of the people around him joined in. His palms were sweaty with anticipation. This was it, the match he had been waiting for.
The sound of horses over the music startled him. It seemed the Upperman stable had pulled out all the stops as the entry opened up to allow an ancient chariot of war entrance. Four beautifull black Arabian thouroughbreds pranced in, pulling a chariot that seemed to be made of red gold in the eerie light. On the chariot, his arms raised high to great the crowd, was a man that seemed to be a tiny action figure, even though he was known to all of NEW as the largest man on the roster.
Prancing to the beat of the music the horses pulled the chariot down the ramp and to the ring, Xander Mars bathing in the sounds of the crowd. Georgios noticed a lot of booing. He didn’t really understand why, because Mars was one of the Sons of Olympus, one of Greece’s own.

The chariot stopped at the ring, and Mars got off, swirling a blood red cape around his shoulders. He wore his black armour proudly, slamming the icons on his chest with one hand as he stepped upon the apron with ease. Georgios felt his heart skip a beat as the Roman circled the ring and climbed every ringpost in greeting. Did he just look at him directly? Did the Gladiator just see Georgios? This was the best night of his life for sure.
The lights came on as Mars stepped to the center of the ring. He was handed a microphone by a stage hand.

“Kalispera Athens!” At that the crowd cheered, being addressed in their own language first. “Are you ready for a war?” The Roman paced the ring, circling like a wild animal. “I know I am. For the past few months we have had a Greek champion, and like all of you, I have been firmly at his side all that time. But no more! That ends today.”

The crowd quickly turned on him, booing now. Georgios booed along with them. Hands of the champion. The Roman seemed like he didn’t care.He turned towards the entrance. “Today I end his reign, like he ended our friendship. So lets see our champion shall we?”

The arena fell dark again. It remained dark a long while. For Georgios it felt like ages, even though it couldn’t have been more than a minute. The lights came back, and there was no music. No grand entrance. There was just Spartan, also dressed in his Sons of Olympus armour, but with his new facepaint. The heavyweight belt was slung over his shoulder. As he walked down the ramp to the entrance he raised his right hand. He too, had a microphone.

he stated as he approached the ring, “I tried to tell you this afternoon, I have tried to tell you for two weeks now, I don’t care about this belt if it costs me our friendship.” He climbed into the ring, standing firmly opposite his warrior brother.

“If our friendship is the cost of this gold, it is worthless to me.” He threw the belt to the floor between them. “If you want it, take it. I am not going to fight you for it. Not when there is just one person we have to thank for all this.” The Greek turned to the entrance stage. “Upperman! Come out here!”

Georgios turned to the ramp to. All of the audience did. Sure enough, Upperman showed up.

“Will you look at that,” the fat manager stated. “Mumbo and Jumbo, fighting over scraps. Or rather, Not fighting over scraps. The crowd came here to see you two do battle, so get it over with and do battle!” As Upperman gestured for them to start Mars threw away his microphone. Spartan however raised his as he stepped towards the ropes near the ramp.

“Come and make me Blake. I told you I wouldn’t fight Mars for this belt, or your management. He can have them. Your trickery stops, here and now. I should have never gotten back in league with you in the first place.”

“Oh come now Thomas,” Upperman smirked. “You are a wrestler. You wrestle. It shouldn’t matter who you wrestle. So what if I put you two against each other? So what if I kick Xander out once you beat him? You don’t need him. Like I said, he is holding you back. I’m just looking out for your best interests.”

Mars joined Spartan now at the ropes. He looked at the greek, shock on his face. Spartan nodded.

“Yeah, that’s what he said Xander. He called you excess luggage so to speak. Wanted you gone. Probably fed you all those lies about me too. I never threw away our friendship. I’d rather throw away that belt.”

Both Sons stared at each other a long time before Mars stepped back to center ring and grabbed his microphone and the belt.

“Upperman,” he yelled at the manager of the stars, “Upperman, you tricked me! You fooled me into believing Spartan would value this gold more than anything. You are the one that values this more than anything. More than honour, more than respect. More than your job managing the champion even. You do not deserve this. All of this, this entire evening, this gold, this is all bullshit. All just a form of devotion to you. All just the Blake show.” He hung the belt back over Spartan’s shoulder.

“You want this gold Blake? You can have it.”
The Sons looked at each other and nodded. As one they jumped over the ropes and stormed up the ramp, chasing Upperman backstage. Joe the cameraman ran after them, so Georgios and all the others in attendance could still see what was happening.
In the hallway backstage both Sons managed to corner the chubby manager, who seemed to be defending his actions now. With just images and no sound it was hard to make out what was being said. The view however said more than a thousand words could have. As one, both Sons attacked Upperman, slamming him into the concrete wall. As he slumped to the floor they turned and stormed back to the ring.

At the entrance they stopped. They came on again, walking towards the ring together, as a tag team, the tag team they had always been and should be. As they stepped into the ring Spartan once again grabbed the microphone.
“There will be a fight,” he said as the crowd started to become rowdy. “There will be a title fight, right here, right now. However, not because Upperman wants it. Not because he wants us going at each other’s throats. Not because he will fire us if we do not fight. He cannot. Upperman is fired, the Sons do not want anything to do with him anymore. No, the fight will be for you, our fans!”

Both Mars and Spartan looked around the arena. Then they shook hands and took to their respective corners.

The bell rang.
Nick Plissken
 player, 388 posts
 Most Dangerous Man Walkin
 Wrestling God...zilla
Sun 28 Aug 2016
at 14:22
Doublecross Promo #2
A camera catches Nick Plissken getting ready for his 'I'm an Idiot' match. He looks up from lacing his boots to address the people watching.

"These wrestlers 'round here confuse me sometimes. They point out me thinkin' that I should be champ like it's weird. Don't y'all think you should be champ? Why the hell are you here if ya don't? Are ya just here for a paycheck? I guess there's worse ways to make a livin' but I just don't understand how someone could come into a competitive field like this and not try to be the best.

"Everest, of course I don't like multiman matches. Wrestling should be one-on-one, no bullshit and no distractions. Just two athletes goin' at it to see which one is better. I'm surprised you don't feel the same way. You had ole Sparky dead to rights til I hit ya with a DDT. To each their own I reckon.

"And yer damn right we ain't playin' tiddlywinks or whatever. I flew to Greece to whoop somebody's ass. It may be in a match with a dumbass stipulation that I don't see ever comin' in to play but a fight is happenin'. So strap on yer climbin' gear big boy. Tonight yer gonna try to climb the biggest mountain in NEW. Mt. Everest ain't got shit on Mt. Plissken."

 player, 273 posts
 Grizzled Survivor
 Face-leaning Tweener
Sun 28 Aug 2016
at 15:09
Doublecross Promo #2
We cut from Nick lacing up his boots to the arena, where Everest is standing in the crowd, standing on his box, holding a microphone.

"You misunderstand me, Mr. Plissken." He begins. "Of course I dislike multi-person fights and of course I'm here to win. Gold isn't unimportant. What I meant is that no matter how many times you lose, you act like you should have won. And I can damn well sympathise, the same thing happens to me on a regular basis. The difference is, I build on it. Every setback I use to further myself, to get stronger and tougher and quicker."

"So I don't need to tell you to bring your A-Game. You always do. But don't assume that I won't bring mine, because you're in for the fight of your life. Tonight, in the halls of the Olympians, I will show you the spirit of Prometheus. Get ready."

And with that, he begins to walk through the crowd to the ring, duelling chants of 'Ev-er-est' and 'Plissken's gonna kill you' filling the arena. No matter what Blake Upperman may have intended, they were going to give the people what they wanted. And no-one was going to take it away from them.