*In the middle of the Raw program, the live footage suddenly cuts to a hospital room. A nurse tends to a man who is wrapped in bandages across his entire body, except for his eyes. A doctor comes in to examine the patient.*
Nurse: Minutes before the incident, the patient was being described as being completely out of control and acting like a wild animal. What the hell happened out there, doc?
Doctor: You don't want to know.....After working on him, we discovered that certain parts of his brain were damaged, including his hippocampus. His memories themselves aren't damaged, but the ones containing memory of language.......All but nearly gone.
Nurse: So.......what's left?
Doctor: We're not entirely sure, but if the past is any hint, then all that there is left is rage. Unadulterated rage.......God help us all.
*The doctor crosses himself before exiting the room, leaving only the nurse with the patient. She notices the man breathing heavier and heavier. She quickly crosses over to him, putting her ear up against his chest.*
Nurse: DOCTOR! WE NEE-
*Suddenly the man grabs the nurse's throat, and the screen fades to black. The footage cuts to Paul Heyman, sitting at his desk, writing several documents and talking to someone on the landline phone.*
Paul Heyman: Yes, sir, I understand. But you HAVE to realize that I'm not going to be able to get you out of this one so easily. Ok, goodbye.
*Heyman puts his hands on his head, and lets a deep breath out. He covers his face and whispers:
Paul Heyman: How am I going to get through this?
*Heyman's cell phone lights up, indicating that he has received a text. He picks the phone up and looks at who messaged him in what seems to be a combination of ecstasy and complete horror*
Heyman: Sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph.....It can't be!
*Heyman looks at the message, which reads: "MEET AT RAW".*
*Cut back to Raw. Paul Heyman is shown backstage, pacing back and forth nervously. He keeps checking his watch until he accidentally bumps into a man wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, face obscured.*
Paul Heyman: Oh my God! You're alive! How did you get out of the hospital roo- Never mind that. I'm glad you're alive and well. I really am. Now, I'm not exactly sure why you're here tonight, but I don't think it has anything to do with shaking hands and kissing babies. It'll be just like old times! I'll do the talking, and you.......do what we all know is that you do. You sure you want to go through with this?
*The large figure chuckles and pats Heyman on the back. He and Heyman walk away from the camera, proceeding to enter the arena.*
J.R.: What in the hell is Paul Heyman, of all people, doing here?
King: I have no clue, J.R. A man like Paul Heyman is always up to something, I can tell you that!
*Suddenly Heyman appears at the ramp, alone, a mic in hand. The crowd boos upon his appearance, with Heyman sporting the usual grin.*
Paul Heyman: Oh, I'm sure you people won't be booing in a few minutes! Ladies and gentlemen, the reason I have been requested to be present here tonight on Raw is because one of my long-time clients, a man who destroyed every single industry he was a part of. You see, this man suffered massive injuries as a result of an.....incident that occurred not too long ago. He has recovered from his injuries, but his speech and language will never be the same again....Without wasting too much of your time, it is my PERSONAL honor.......and pleasure to reintroduce one of the most dominant superstars of the 21st century......BROCK LESNAR!
King: WHAT?!?!?!?
J.R.: BAH GAWD KING, IT'S LESNAR! THAT SON OF A BITCH IS HERE! THE NEXT BIG THING HAS COME HOME!
*As soon as the opening riff of the song hits, the WCF Universe is set ablaze with cheers all across the arena, borderline deafening. Lesnar arrives, violently taking off his sweatshirt and throwing it at the crowd. He lets out an earth-shaking roar.*
*Heyman and Brock make their way down the ramp, as the crowd continues to go absolutely ballistic. They enter the ring and Heyman continues to talk.*
Paul Heyman: Looks like I was correct! Ladies and gentlemen, my client Brock Lesnar is a man of few words......His speech might be damaged, but his uncontrollable, unstoppable rage is not. My client returned to this very ring to tell all of you and the WCF Universe that Brock Lesnar does not want to make "friends." He doesn't want to hug, kiss, take pictures with you.....None of that. What he DOES want is to complete dismantle this company like he has destroyed all others he has taken a part of. Previous "legends" of this business including those the likes of Hulk Hogan, Rikishi, and even the Road Dogg don't hold a candle to this raw talent that you see before you. But instead of just talking all night long, I'd rather demonstrate this talent right here.......Right now.
*Heyman then shifts the mic over to Brock, looking extremely angry......*
Brock Lesnar: BORK........KILL.
J.R.: NO! DON'T DO IT! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY-
*Brock then hops over the ropes to the outside. He grabs Justin Roberts, who was sitting near the announce table, and throws him at the steel steps. Smiling as Justin screams in agony, he grabs him by the head and repeatedly bashes his skull against the steel steps. Brock lets out a war cry before he picks Justin up over his shoulders and delivers an arena-silencing F-5 right onto the steel steps. Heyman can be heard from a distance, shouting at Lesnar to cease his attack. Heyman reaches for a mic and says one last statement:*
Heyman: So if anybody wants to step in and play the hero, I'd suggest you do quick before somebody else gets hurt!
[Promo open to ANYBODY]
Last edited by DieCobros on Wed Sep 04, 2013 7:55 am; edited 2 times in total
DullChameleon
Posts : 166 Reputation : 0 Join date : 2013-06-22
Subject: Re: Ties that bind Tue Sep 03, 2013 12:46 pm
In response to Heyman's taunt, some familiar music hits...
Dolph trots out from the back and onto the entrance area. He does his signature twirl and gestures towards the crowd by running his hands through his hair and flinging the sweat off.
Brock, momentarily distracted from his rage fest, turns his attention towards Dolph. Brock is like an angry bull. He stares at Dolph for a moment and then begins to charge. Heyman, however, recognizing his client's penchant for hasty decision making, steps in front of Brock. Heyman holds his arms up in order to stop Brock. Brock pulls up for a second. Heyman pats Brock on the shoulder and looks at him.
Heyman: Hold on a second Brock. Let me handle this for a few moments. Let's hear what Mr. Ziggler wants before you break his chest open.
Brock snarls at Dolph, but backs up a few steps. Heyman turns to face Dolph.
Well, I have to say Dolph, I certainly didn't expect this. I thought that by coming out here and letting Brock Lesnar loose on the general population, we might get some hero type to appear in order to try and stop the madness. I thought we might get a Daniel Bryan. I thought we might catch ourselves a John Cena. I had even thought we might, and I was hoping against hope for this one, that CM Punk himself would appear like some sort of superman to reign in the beast. What I didn't expect Dolph, what I don't think any of these people expected, was for you to show up. You're no hero Dolph. You hate these people. You don't care about what happens to Mr. Roberts over there. You aren't kept awake at night worrying about what kind of catastrophic violence the beast incarnate is unleashing against some poor unlucky sap who happened to be in the same ring as him. So, I think that we are all wondering Dolph. Why are you here?
Dolph smiles, chuckles to himself, and looks at Paul. He begins slowly walking down the ramp towards Heyman and Brock. About halfway down he stops again while he is talking.
Now, Paul, that is the million dollar question isn't it? Why am I out here? It's true, I can't stand most of these poor saps as you call them, who shell out their hard earned money to come and watch me perform every week. It's also true that I don't really care who your client chooses to attack, destroy, maim, hurt, tickle, caress, spank, or whatever other weird fetishes Mr. I Pick Things Up And Put Them Down has. I didn't come out here to be Superman. Hell, I'm already the Show Off. I already steal the damn show, I don't need an adoring public. I also didn't come out here to shill the new Show Off edition of WWE 2k14, but, well, hell, a little cheap pop never hurt anyone right?
The crowd boos Ziggler, although a few are laughing at his mockery of Brock.
But, I do need to satisfy my own curiosity. I mean, why are you so angry bro? I mean, I understand that you're not exactly on Damien Sandow's intellectual level, but what does Brock Lesnar have to be angry about? Are you mad that someone stole your neck? Is it that your girlfriend left you for Bill Goldberg? Are you angry because the all you can eat buffet at Golden Corral doesn't apply to you? I mean, where is the rage coming from Brock? If you want, I can give Dr. Shelby a call for you. He worked wonders with Kane and Daniel Bryant in the not too distant past. You -
The crowd laughs as Ziggler talks
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let me just stop you right there Mr. Ziggler. While your commentary is incredibly amusing and highly entertaining it still doesn't explain what it is you want. And, if you don't tell me why you came out here and interrupted us in the middle of our big debut, I'm going to show you why I call this man the beast incarnate. If I don't hear what I want to hear come out of your mouth, then I'm going to tell Brock to run up that ramp and break every bone in your body.
Whoa yourself there Paulie H. I think that some of Crock's ragefest might be rubbing off on you. There's no need to get violent here tonight. I didn't come out here to antagonize either you or your meathead. I just came out here to let you in on a little secret. This is my show. This my arena. This is my ring. And these fans, although they might be mindless drones, are my fans. So when you and Conan the Borebarian come out here and start to wreak havoc, you're doing it on my turf. And, surprisingly, I have a little bit of a soft spot for Roberts over there. He just always looks so pathetic, you know? Anyway, if you and She-man came out looking for a fight, I'm out here to let you know that you've found one. Tonight, I've got a triple threat match. And, once I win that, I'll be challenging Captain Baldy for the WCF championship. And, once I win that, I'll be the new champion. And throughout it all, Paul. Throughout all of that amazing stuff, I'm going to take time out of my schedule to show you and your client, that you picked the wrong place to show up. I'm not a Paul Heyman guy, and I'm damn proud of it.
The crowd begins to cheer a little bit and a few "Dolph, Dolph, Dolph" chants can be heard.
[Open to Cobros]
DieCobros
Posts : 237 Reputation : 1 Join date : 2013-06-22
Subject: Re: Ties that bind Wed Sep 04, 2013 10:23 am
*Heyman chuckles, but then he starts laughing. Louder and louder.......To the point where he's down on the mat, his face turned completely red. Brock stares at Heyman, not entirely amused as Paul. Heyman puts the mic up to his mouth after laughing for around a minute.*
Paul Heyman: My goodness, Mr. Ziggler......You gave me quite a laugh there......You.......YOU of all people expect to be the WCF Undisputed Champion, LET ALONE the number 1 contender?!?!?! This must be the biggest joke of professional wrestling since the Hulkster's kickstarter to save what was left of his sub-par roster! What you fail to realize is that you shouldn't be pursuing the Undisputed Championship, you shouldn't be in the running for a more minor title, and as a business man, I wouldn't even have you compete in this ring. I was the man who ran the most extreme professional wrestling television program of all time, and I would know what's best for business. Next time you come home, Mr. Ziggler, after tonight's show is over, take a look at yourself in the mirror and reflect upon your career a bit. What exactly have you accomplished? TWO world title reigns, both of which ended as quickly as they started. Your win-loss record is also something to think about, and I KNOW that you touched on this earlier, but I want to reiterate this by using an example from America's favorite past-time: Baseball.
*Heyman clears his throat as the crowd starts to boo more and more. Brock stands completely upright, not moving so much as a muscle. Ziggler looks on, appearing slightly distraught but calm and collected.*
King: Looks like Heyman is verbally tearing Ziggler apart! And Lesnar might literally tear him apart soon if he's not careful!
J.R.: I'm not so sure Ziggler picked the right guys to tussle with here tonight, King. He's probably biting off more than he can chew.
Paul Heyman: You see, Mr. Ziggler, in the WCF, much like baseball, you want to hire talent that is young, fresh, and that has potential, which, at the time period, I completely understood why you were hired in the first place. But like baseball, if you see that a player is struggling a bit, let's say his OBP, or On Base Percentage, isn't exactly up to snuff. Naturally, you want to help him out, so you send him to practice a bit more, just like how you were given plenty of chances to make your mark throughout the years. Then finally, after you've tried everything to see if this guy will actually be a damn good team player......You let him go. He drifts away into the abyss, never to be seen again in the sport. You want to know where guys like that and where guys like you go? Back into the local fast food restaurant, working miserable hours in a place reeking of shame and self-denial, working less than minimum-wage. People like Brock Lesnar on the other hand, ARE actual potential. Dolph, let me ask you a question: Have you ever captured the Undisputed Championship, the UFC Heavyweight Championship, and become a National Collegiate Wrestling Champion? I didn't think so. What I'm trying to get at, Mr. Ziggler, is that you are of no use to anyone. You're only there as dead weight.....But that's not my only problem with you.
J.R.: I'm sure it isn't! It's not like Paul Heyman is one to "mince his words", so to speak.
Paul Heyman: Mr. Ziggler, what really irritates me about what you say is that you claim that this arena.......is YOURS. And that this weekly program......is YOURS. I'm afraid you are mistaken, because my client has been stealing the shows, selling t-shirts, selling thousands of tickets, while you were still a golf caddie. You simply don't have what it takes to go up against a beast like Brock. Lesnar. But if you still believe after what I've said that you "Steal the Show", then prove it here tonight. Or, in this instance, if you're "occupied", like you are later tonight, then simply name the time and the place where you want to "Show Off" against the Beast Incarnate, Brock Lesnar. Good luck, Mr. Ziggler, we'll be watching, don't you worry.....
*Heyman then puts on a devilish smile as the crowd boos heavily and Lesnar maintaining a stoic-looking face, concealing the once fuming rage he possessed earlier. Brock and Heyman wait, anticipating whatever comes next.*
[Open to Ziggler, I'll leave you to end this one bud] [Bork is open to criticism, but expect your arm to be missing afterwards regardless]
DullChameleon
Posts : 166 Reputation : 0 Join date : 2013-06-22
Subject: Re: Ties that bind Fri Sep 06, 2013 10:27 am
Dolph squints in thought as he listens to Heyman, as if he's pondering what Paul is saying.
Dolph waits for Heyman to finish and then speaks
You know Paulie. It's interesting that you chose to describe my career using a baseball metaphor. I say interesting because you fail to mention a few key points. Baseball is all about five tool players. Players who can do it all. Players who get the job done day in and day out. I'm a five tool player Paulie. I'm here every night, climbing in that ring and putting on one hell of a show. I hit the big spots. I work the mic. I make this place go. But, Paulie, if I'm a five tool player, your client is a one hit wonder. What can Brock Lesnar do? He does one thing, and believe me, he does it well, but all he knows how to do is attack on command. Look at him standing there behind you, staring vacantly into space. He's your rottweiler Paulie, and I get it. It's a smart move. Protect your neck with the man with no neck. Savvy. The problem is, this business is about far more than just see Hulk smash. It's about heart. It's about desire. It's about getting up time and time again. It's about men like me.
The crowd begins to cheer Dolph as he answers Heyman.
The problem is Paulie, that you see this business in only one way. You see it as your cash cow. You use wrestling to buy your suits, to line your pockets, to constantly keep your hairline from receding. By the way, you probably should fire whoever is in charge of that job. It's not working. You have no passion for this sport Paulie. You ran one of the greatest wrestling promotions ever into the ground because of your ego and your greed. So now you appear out of nowhere, touting your dog on a leash as your newest meal ticket. Brock's too stupid to know the difference, so you inject him with steroids, you point to a target, and you tell him to attack. That's how you make a living Paulie, and again, it's smart. I can't argue with your success. But, I can argue with you doing it on my time.
The problem with your baseball metaphor Paulie, is that you've got it all backwards. Right now, baseball is in the middle of the biggest scandal it's ever seen. Every month, more and more of our heroes are being exposed as frauds. The curtain is being thrown back and the Wizards of Oz like Ryan Braun and Alex Rodriguez are being exposed as nothing but scared little men desperately grasping at rapidly fading glory. You and Brock are just like those men Paulie. When was the last time Brock Lesnar submitted himself for a drug test? His piss is dirtier than Charlie Sheen's. So you come out here, the two of you, and you tell Brock to smash Justin Roberts to pieces, and he does. But they know Paulie. I know. And, you, even you, deep down in that cold, tiny heart of yours know, that all you have at the end of the day is HGH freak who you're not sure you can control.
The crowd is cheering Dolph loudly now as he picks apart Heyman and Brock
So, you want to know if I still have the guts to take this to the next level? You want to know if I came out here to pick a fight. You're damn right I did Paulie. You've been in this business too long Heyman. You and your freak have been running around unchecked for almost a decade. But all that's coming to an end. At Unforgiven, you and your lapdog have got what you wanted. At Unforgiven, it's going to be Brock Lesnar vs Dolph Ziggler in an extreme rules no disqualification match. So feel free to come down to ringside Paulie, I want you to see what happens, when a five tool player gets in the ring with a one hit wonder.
Dolph tosses the mic into the crowd and peers out to the cheering audience as they chant "Dolph, Dolph, Dolph" over and over again.
Alveuss
Posts : 474 Reputation : 0 Join date : 2013-06-20 Age : 28 Location : Scotland
Subject: Re: Ties that bind Fri Sep 06, 2013 10:52 am
Soon my pet... Oh, so soon. (I choose you, Borkizard!)
