Tag-Team-Tropolis Press Conference

[James Peterson]

Tis post by me will be edited.

Go ahead and start!

[wwjbcd]

James Peterson: First off - again - is a man who went through Hell and back at Retribution. At Tag-Team-Tropolis, he'll be taking a break from defending his Global Championship in order to throw his hat into the GPC Tag-Team Championship tournament, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Canada's Greatest Athlete, Johnny Bonecrusher!

And sure enough, not too differently from all of the other times he's come out, he simply saunters over to the podium in his sweet suit, shades on, and of course, his Global Championship draped over his right shoulder. He gets a respectable amount of polite clapping all the while. He shakes the boss' hand, steps up to the microphones, adjusts them to his liking, and clears his throat.

Johnny Bonecrusher: Thanks again, Mr. Peterson! Now, you know something, folks? Retribution's come and gone, but Yours Truly's still feeling a bit vengeful. The Johnny's very unsatisfied that, despite the massacre that occurred during the main event, mmmm, ahhh, nahhh, not too happy about the outcome, not too happy about it. Newman, this thing between you and me ain't over. Not by a long-shot.

But that's a story for another day.

Today, it's all about crowning the first-ever GPC Tag-Team Champions and adding to my championship gold here in New Japan Fighting Championship. The Global Championship's feelin' a bit lonely, aren't you, Globey? Yes you are, yes you are!

He says as he strokes his title belt as if it were a beloved pet. This amuses some of the spectators in attendance.

Johnny Bonecrusher: And what better piece of gold to get than one-half of the tag-team straps? Hey, The Johnny discovered a couple years ago that, despite being a singles competitor for virtually all of his career, that he's pretty good at teamwork! Every team I've been a part of's won tag-team gold, and if the first and second times were already charms, then this third time's going to be a super charm! Let's get to the questions right away!

Many people raise their hands. Johnny points to an Asian woman.

Johnny Bonecrusher: You with the rose brooch.

Chung-Ae Park (Translated from Korean): <Chung-Ae Park, Sports Chosun. Are you certain you have the endurance to get through this lengthy one-night tournament at your age?>

Johnny doesn't look too impressed as he shakes his head.

Johnny Bonecrusher: Miss Park... let me... make one thing... PERFECTLY CLEAR:

Again, this would be where if there were fans in attendance that they'd pop for that wonderful catch-phrase.

Johnny Bonecrusher: You ought to know by now that betting against The Johnimant Species is another payday down the tubes! Can I lose? Sure, anyone can on any given day! But will I lose? Two words: Hell and no! I can go, Miss Park, oh, I can go. You just watch. I'm not going at this alone, and with the partner I chose, the GPC Tag titles are in the bag, name plates already made up for us, shined and waxed, the whole nine yards. Next!!

Looking about a sea of raised hands, Johnny covers his eyes with one hand and randomly points at someone with his other hand.

Miguel Gomez (Translated from Spanish): <Miguel Gomez, Claro Sports. For those of us who aren't familiarized with your partner, who exactly is he?>

Johnny slowly nods as he chuckles.

Johnny Bonecrusher: You know, when The Johnny was taking a break from in-ring competition, he fancied himself a pretty good manager! The #1 Hit-Maker they called me! I've managed eight or so different men in my time, but the man who's stuck by me through thick and thin is The Portland Madman himself. After things went south in the last place I managed him in, I thought, what perfect timing: I could now get him involved in this gigantic tournament!

Miguel Gomez (Translated from Spanish): <Yes, but, who is The Portland Madman?!>

Johnny slams both hands hard down onto the podium.

Johnny Bonecrusher: You can't handle that knowledge, Mr. Gomez! For what The Portland Madman represents cannot be explained with mere words! He is a force of nature in professional wrestling - no, in life in general! He is not a way of thinking but a way of life! Pro wrestling in Japan has had their fair share of legendary gaijin wrestlers throughout the decades: Hansen, Vader, Albright... killers, man, killers! But my man's a whole other sort of beast, believe you me-

And this is when the re-approaching James Peterson finally reaches the podium.

James Peterson: Yes, about that, Mr. Bonecrusher. You know, your partner was supposed to be here with you during this press conference.

Johnny simply shrugs.

Johnny Bonecrusher: Well, he was supposed to be here tonight, but... ahhh, I'm just busting your chops, boss, he's here!

Johnny looks around near the entryway, taking off his shades to get a clearer look. He rubs his chin in wonder.

Johnny Bonecrusher: I told him to get dressed up for this, but, uh-

♫Da na na na na na! 

Da na na na na na! 

Da na na na na na! 

Da na na na na na! 

Da na na na na na! 

Da na na na na na!♫ 

The ominous beginning electric guitar riffs of George Thorogood and The Destroyers' "Bad to the Bone"  blare throughout the PA system, and after the first or second "Da na na na na na's", several people in attendance know who's a-comin' and part from the entryway. They do so just in time, because no sooner do they move than the man in question bursts through the door, bare-chested and basically dressed ready to wrestle. He does have a tie on though. He swings his chains recklessly over his head before tossing them right into the front of the podium. Johnny jumps out of the way to be safe.

Johnny Bonecrusher: Jesus!!!

The big burly mammoth makes his way up to Johnny and James, shaking their hands exaggeratedly. James appears quite confused, but since Johnny's partner has arrived, he just shrugs and sits back down.

Johnny Bonecrusher: Ladies and gentlemen, from Portland, Oregon, my partner... "Perfectly Sane" Maxwell Schneider!

Maxwell Schneider: I dropped my chains down there.

Johnny Bonecrusher: Well, forget about it for now, Maxwell. Focus instead on the big picture: Tag-Team-Tropolis!

Johnny holds out his hands to appear as if he's framing the air. Schneider apes the motion.

Maxwell Schneider: Tag-Team... TROpolis.

Johnny Bonecrusher: And when it's all said and done, when scores of pairs of bodies have been piled up, just who do you think will be on top of the heap, raising those sweet pieces of metal and leather above their heads?

Maxwell Schneider: The Pacific Wrecking Crew!

Johnny Bonecrusher: The Pacific... Wrecking Crew. Johnny and Maxie. For the first time ever, we're going to team up, and with my luck and your pluck, the competition's totally fu-

Maxwell Schneider: Johnny! Manners! We are in the company of a mixed kind-HAAAAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAA!!!

Johnny winces are Schneider practically laughs in his ear. He shakes his head, adjusts his collar, and looks off into the audience.

Johnny Bonecrusher: Uhh... any more questions?

More hands go up, and just as Johnny's about to pick one out, Schneider shoves him aside and points at Miguel Gomez.

Maxwell Schneider: You! YOU!!!

Johnny Bonecrusher: He's already asked a question, Maxwell!

Maxwell Schneider: I WANT HIM!!!

Johnny Bonecrusher: All right, all right, go ahead again.

Miguel Gomez (Translated from Spanish): <Your first round opponents are called WildLin, a team composed of 4CW wrestlers Jett Wilder & Bryan Laughlin. In fact, there's quite a few 4CW wrestlers in the tournament. With your history with that company, Johnny, does your team have more to prove going into this match?>

Johnny frowns. Schneider seems confused at the line of questioning.

Johnny Bonecrusher: Mr. Gomez, I know what you're trying to get at, and I don't care whether someone's from 1CW, 2CW, 3, 4, 5CW, this is New Japan Fighting Championship, this is my playground, and I hold all the balls! If Jett and Bryan want some, they've gotta go through us, The Pacific Wrecking Crew. You think we named ourselves that to be funny? There's nothing funny about getting flattened by Schneider and choked out by Yours Truly. Nothing, Mr. Gomez.

We've got one member of WildLin - and before I continue, what in the Hell is a WildLin anyway? Can somebody tell me that? Never mind, I don't care.

Maxwell Schneider: I think it's supposed to be Jett WILDer and Bryan LaughLIN.

Johnny looks irritatedly at his partner, but doesn't really acknowledge what he said.

Johnny Bonecrusher: I don't caaaaare, because at least one-half of that team's comprised of some mouthy punk-ass kid. Listen up, Sonny Jim: when you were still in diapers, I was king of the jungle! Disrespectful little-

Maxwell Schneider: Hey! Let me say some stuff! I-

James Peterson: Uh, I'm sorry, Mr. Schneider, but your time is actually up.

Schneider hangs his head in disappointment as they both leave.

[Ryan Crews]

The picture opens in a large room. Sitting behind a table with the Standard Wrestling Unit logo draped over the front of the table is, Ryan and Dylan Crews. Reporters fill the room.

Ryan: We’re ready to get this underway. We’ll take a few of your questions.

Reporter #1: How prepared are you two for this tournament seeing this is Dylan’s first tripe wrestling outside the US?

Ryan: We’re ready. This tournament is ours to lose. As far as Dylan wrestling outside the US for the first time, that’s a non factor.

Reporter #2: Are you guys worried about the not knowing who you’ll be facing later on if you advance?

Ryan: No, it doesn’t matter who is put in front of us. We’re going to knock them all down, one by one.

Dylan: That’s right we’re a unstoppable duo. This is ours to lose.

Reporter #3: What has been your training regimen?

Ryan: That’s for us to know, you to wonder. Next question…

Reporter #4: Are you two worried about anyone in the tournament?

Ryan: No, why should we be. We’re the best team in this tournament. We don’t worry because there is no reason to worry.

Reporter #5: This is for either of you. Have you wrestled scouted any of the teams in the tournament?

Ryan: Why? No, that’s just stupid to ask.

Ryan looks at Dylan they nod their heads.

Ryan: Thank you for coming this press conference is over.

They get up slowly walking to a near by door walking through the door as the picture fades out.

[Kurt Newman]

James Peterson :“Next up, the tag team of Kurt Newman and Stefan Lajoie…..The One Percent.”


Peterson steps aside as Kurt and Stefan make their way to the podium. With a shirt cannon in hand, Kurt Newman makes his way out and shoots a shirt into the crowd of reporters. But it goes wrong, horribly wrong as the force of the shirt hits a reporter in the face, sending him crashing to theground and knocking his ass out. Kurt and Stefan cover their mouths and can't help but feel the dudes pain as he lays on the ground. The room goes silent as some of the reporters check on him to make sure that he's ok. Not knowing what to do, Stefan and Kurt slowly make their way to their chairs.


Kurt Newman: “Sorry dude…...but hey, you got a new One Percent T-Shirt! We're selling those for like twenty bucks American so…...”


Stefan Lajoie:“…...so we'll be more than happy to sign the shirt…..when ever you decide to wake up from your nap.”


There's an awkward silence in the room as Kurt and Stefan look at the sea of reporters. Playing it smooth, Kurt looks over at Stefan and starts to talk.


Kurt Newman: “Well since I'm on the NJFC roster, I guess I'll start this whole interview then. Hell, I'll do it in Japanese if you want.”


Stefan Lajoie: “You speak Japanese?”


Kurt Newman: “Sure I do. I've been here in NJFC for a few months now and I still remember some of the tongue back in my early days of training here. So let me get in the right mind frame here and I'll start this promo out.”


Unbeknownst to Kurt, he was really out of practice with his Japanese. So what he thinks he's saying is completely different than what he's actually saying.


What Kurt Thinks He's Saying: “Hello ladies and gentlemen, we are the One Percent and we are here to dominate this tag team tournament for NJFC.”


What Kurt is Actually Saying: “Pigs and Donkees! We like to fuck fat chicks with one boob bigger than the other. Now watch me dance with this tuna.”


Everyone in the room looks at Kurt in disbelief, including Stefan who also knows Japanese very well. Knowing what Kurt just said, he tries to interrupt Kurt.


Stefan Lajoie: “Ummm, Kurt. You sure you know what you're saying?”


Kurt Newman: “Yeah, I picked it up from the bars around the wrestling arenas all the time. Now shhhh.“


What Kurt Thinks He's Saying: “Now I could had picked anyone for this tag team tournament but I chose Stefan because its been years since we last worked together and I wanted to get that flair that we once had in the ring.”


What Kurt Is Actually Saying: “I once saw Stefan Lajoie shoot a pingpong ball from his poop poop hole into a blind mans muffin top. I love Stefan and want to do nasty things to him and his frenchy mouth.”


Stefan waves his arms franticly as he tries to plead with the Japanese reporters that none of this is true, but Kurt just keeps on talking.


What Kurt Thinks He's Saying: “I know that a lot of these teams are going to talk about how great they are and how they're going to dominate and win all their matches. Well they can talk all they want, we're just going to go out to that ring and do what we do best….and that’s being the best in that ring.”


What Kurt is Actually Saying: “All these other teams smell like belly button farts and act like chickens with their heads chopped off. We're going to fuck them all in their buttholes and then not call them back the next day. Teabagging these bitches and chopping carrots…….cats.”


Stefan can't stand it anymore as he places his hand over Kurts mic.


Stefan (Speaking In Japanese): “Kurt, I got it from here.”



Kurt Newman: “Wait, did you just say you like to fuck fish.”



Stefan rolls his eyes as he pulls out a set of keys and jingles them in front of Kurt. Kurt immediately gets a smile on his face and takes the keys from Stefan hands and begins to play with them.


Kurt Newman: “Jingle, jingle, jingle!”



Stefan: You know, there’s a lot of shit that goes on in this world. Talent gets abused and mistreated, tag teams get stuck together for far too long, talent gets buried under saying one wrong thing or being the wrong creed, color, or nature. But this kind of event? Where you invite dozens of people all across the world to compete for glory, honor, and the chance to prove that not only are they the best, but to prove to all the other companies that we can get the best TOGETHER, even for a minimal amount of time? That takes a special kind of something. And that special kind of something is exactly what Kurt and I specialize in. We aren’t your run of the mill average joe tag team, that say we’re gonna do well and accept our fate. We aren’t your spot monkey crack heads who kill themselves just to do something for the fans. And we aren’t old fogeys who think they still got it when they clearly don’t. If, after tonight, after doing your homework on Google and Twitter, you don’t understand just how good Kurt Newman is, you’re going into this event with the wrong fucking idea. And if, after doing all that homework, you have no idea about me, who I am, and my history, you are going to be in the wrong fucking ballpark. Kurt Newman and I have not only put each other through hell, but we’ve been through hell together. And we both know just how hellacious the other one is, that we’re willing to walk into this complete unknown gangbang of a tag team idea, just to show the world two things: The One Percent will never die, and that tag team wrestling should never die. Kurt Newman and Stefan Lajoie are ready for the best, and please, please, please, don’t disappoint us. Because every where we go, that’s what we’ve been: disappointed with the lack of talent that gets thrown our way. We don’t unretire for nothing, you know...”



With a smile on Kurt’s face, he picks up the shirt cannon and shoots it out at the crowd again.



Stefan Lajoie: “No!”



The reporter, who earlier got hit with the shirt cannon slowly gets up and gets his bearings with the help of some of the other reporters. With a nice sized bruise on his head, the reporter adjusts his glasses and is about to walk but falls flat on his back once again as the shirt hits him squarely on the head. Everyone gasps in horror as the reporter is knocked out cold again. Everyone quickly looks back at Kurt who has a stupid look on his face as he slowly drops the t-shirt cannon to the ground.



Stefan Lajoie: “Seriously dude?”



Kurt Newman: “Get your One Percent T-Shirts at the NJFC shop section on the interwebs!”



Knowing that its about to get heated in the room, Kurt quickly makes his way out of the room, leaving Stefan alone with all those eyes of the reporters burning a hole right through him. With an awkward smile on his face, Stefan throws up a peace sign and slowly inches his way out of the room

[Jason Cashe]

”Thank you for coming here tonight! We have another Conference for Tag-Team-Tropolis, please welcome Tommy Knox and Jason Cashe. Together known as’KashVille’!”

James Patterson announces the upcoming Press Conference Guests as reporters from both Japanese Wrestling and a few from the States covering the NJFC Tag-Team-Tropolis Event. A table is setup for the talent to sit and take questions at as both Cashe and Knox come out from the back. Tommy has a plastic cup with his own drink mix, a purple tinted liquid, inside as they take their seats.

”Now they will be asking questions here tonight about the upcoming event or about you personally. I, however have a question to ask. If you both could answer it I’d greatly appreciate it.”

”Let’s get it.”

Jason Cashe responds, still sporting damage to his face and body from his recent ’Cage of Carnage’ match in 4CW.

”After seeing some of the competition in this Tournament. Some of them neither have had the pleasure of seeing before now. Who, if anyone stands out that before hadn’t?”

Looking over at Knox, Jason Cashe nods, giving him the window to go first on the question. Taking a sip from his cup, Knox thinks over the question for a moment in his head before answering.

”If I'm bein’ honest, I'd say quite frankly, no one has stood out except for this ugly son of a bitch sittin’ beside me. Call it cockiness, call it arrogance, call it what you will. I… I mean we, we didn't fly out to this beautiful country to boost everyone else's confidence with a rub and tug. This tournament could have been held in Korea if that's what people wanted, but it isn't. If I'm bein’ forced to mention one name other than my partner right here, I would have to mention the great Johnny Blowjobber, Mr. Potato Head if I'm bein’ more precise. This isn't me givin’ him props either, that dude can straight get turnt out and proper fuc--”

Looking over to Knox, Cashe extends his arm, pushing Knox’s shoulder.

”What?”

”Just because Blowjobber puts in work doesn’t mean it’s worth a damn! Let me take over this question. But sure, throw in names like Jace Parker Davidson, Sativa Nevaeh, and lets say Vincent Strassburg. All of whom I’ve not been in the ring with. Out of the lot? JPD and Sativa is the ONLY two who has anything worth calling “talent” and I use the word loosely. One way or another, expect KashVille to be some of the hardest hitting individuals in this Tag Tournament.”

”JDP called you a “One of the best Wrestlers in the world”..”

”And that you were a Stoner partner, no better than an Extra in a Cheech and Chong movie. And?”

”Heh well thank you for answering my question. Now we’ll take questions from the crowd..”

Everyone at once starts throwing out questions. Too many of them are bundled together and hardly heard with any clarity. The members of KashVille look at each other, Knox shrugs. Cashe looks out into the crowd and points at a lovely little female, smallest human in the room. She was cute and Knox lit up upon seeing her.

”Yes, I’m here from PWI Magazine. I have to ask, how close to 100% are you coming into this Tournament after your match at 4CW’s ‘South Beach Brawl’?”

Directed at Cashe but as he starts to answer, Tommy Knox just HAS to cut in and speak with the pretty little thing. His eyes locked not on her eyes but her wet, thick lips.

”I will be as close to one hundred as you need me to be. Even at fifty, I'd still do whatever warms that thing up and perform like a champ.”

Cashe and the entire crowd turn to Knox in shock of what he just said. Shaking his head from left to right with a grin on his face, Cashe facepalms into laughter.

”Annnd boom goes the Dynamite on this Press Conference!”

The crowd fill with laughter again as Knox tips back his cup and chugs on his drank. Cashe shaking his head looks out and answers the question from the pretty, young Reporter.

”To answer your question. I’ll be alright! I took some bumps but I’m not doing this alone. While my horndog partner here might not have manners at the table, he doesn’t need manners inside the ring. We’ve been Champions both solo and together as Partners. We came up together, became names and talent together. WHEN we become GPC Tag Champions, we will remain here. Represent competition to it’s finest. We will… Influence this Division and this Company.”

Reaching over, Knox pats Cashe on the back. He leans forward clearing his throat to say something in response to his partner’s words.

”I may need you as a wingman after this little shindig is over with. But on a serious note, we’re goin’ to be champions together once again.”

Unable to make another selection, a Reporter blurts out a question. Uncontested by anyone else, it becomes the question KashVille answers.

”I’m from Squared Circle Magazine and my question is, IF you become GPC Tag Team Champions. Is competing in NJFC something we will see more of for KashVille? Or is this a single venture, one and done regardless of victory?”

Decent question. One that Jason Cashe picked up to answer knowing Knox would rather be playing with his dick.

”Well first of all,’if’ is not in our vocabulary. We are here to win! Not just win but become Tag Champions. So when we become Champions, I will take a short break. A vacation if you will. With my… Girlfriend… After that it’s back to business, back to the hustles and grind of being a Champion, a competitor and a challenger to anything that is placed before me. Before us! NJFC has been very welcoming to us and we would like nothing more than to not just be visitors but part of the growing Era of New Japan Fighting Championship organization...”

Knox rubs his beard for a moment before leaning forward and resting his elbows onto the table.

”That’s a very good question and I'll be glad to answer that for you, in a serious manner if that’s okay with you. There is no ‘if’. We are goin’ to win those championships and when we do, it will be our privilege to defend them as any fightin’ champion should. If I'm bein’ completely honest, I feel very confident that I have one more good run left in me and to use it on anything other than winnin’ championship gold is not only a waste of my time, but a waste of yours and the fans. I didn't throw my name into the hat without takin’ into consideration what would happen after winnin’. I knew and still know now that winnin’ is the only option. I mean come on, did you seriously think that we would come into this thing thinkin’ that there was any option other than winnin’, and then movin’ forward to defend those straps? Next question...”

Knox then looks over to the female reporter from moments ago. With a smile on his face, he winks at her and then puckers his lips, blowing her a kiss. An nerdy Asian kid, young and otherwise shy raises his hand. Cashe looking past the other hands raised, calls to the kid.

”Dorky kid with the glasses. Yeah you… Question?”

Clearing his throat, partially surprised he was called upon. The kid asks his question.

”What makes you two different than the others?”

The restless room went silent. Tension, curiosity became the common amongst the people as all eyes were on KashVille.

”I got this… What makes us different? I’ll put it like this. So many people like to be smart. They like to use big words, say another word for this word or that word but inside that ring the two of us are far from Smart. Heh the “Smart” ones know when to stop. They know when enough is enough. They know when to stay down. For us? We never caught onto that lesson. As dumb as they come but in this business, it’s the dumb ones who don’t stay down, who don’t know when to quit that have the loudest BOOM when it truly matters... “

Popping up from the table, Tommy Knox throws his half empty cup into the crowd and makes a prediction.

”Your NEXT GPC Tag Team Champions! KAAAAASHVILLE!”

Walking away from the table, Knox disappears from the crowd’s sight. Cashe slowly rises from the table, nods giving more respect than his partner but leaving after him nontheless.

[aggressionsociety]

James Patterson gives them a hand as he walked over to the podium with a bit of a smile on his face. 

"Now the two people I have coming out right now. They were last minute addition for the tag team tournament. In my eyes, they are the best additions to this tag team tournament. I would like to welcome Aggression Society...... better know in EWC as Jason Park Hunter along with him Ruthless Aggression." 

That, when the cameras start to flash like crazy first coming out, was Jason Park Hunter. He was wearing a pair of dress pants with a shirt open from the top. He walked over to the podium as he looked around at the crowd with a smirk as he looked behind him as Ruthless Aggression wearing a dress that tight to her body. It shows off all her curves with her hair coming down around her face. She looked out towards the crowd a bit with a soft smile. Jason gently places his hands on his mother hands as she steps away from the podium. He looked out towards the crowd as he smirks a bit. 

Jason: You're all witnessing history in the making here. We will be first ever mother and son tag team ever in wrestling history. You're all will be watching history been made here in NJFC as we make history as been the first ever mother and son tag team to become Tag Team Champions. Yes, people might believe I have too much confidence in myself. Well, you can blame that on who my family is. 

He smirks a bit as he spoke some more. 

Jason: My father, my great uncle, and my grandfather and my mother all have been champions in this business. At the age of 21, I have become the first ever FSW Champion. So I know what it takes to become one.

Ruthless Aggression nods softly as she now was given the time to speak. 

Ruthless: My son loves to mention that time after time again. I could tell my son he needs to learn how to be humble about things but to tell that to a "Hunter". That word isn't even in their vocabulary. Many people felt since I have become the wife of Jaden "X" Hunter The Undisputed Champion of EWC. That Ruthless Aggression has become someone else. 

She places her hair to the side as she looked out towards the crowd with a smirk. 

Ruthless: No, I am still the same person just with a bit of attitude adjustment. I am still the same person who loves to do what she does day after day. That is walking into any ring kicking ass and having my blood spill. That what I will be doing in this tournament. I am ready to let everyone around the world see the old Ruthless they have known from the past has become something else. She has become something different. The only way that could happen if I come back where it all start for me. Right here in Japan. 

Jason looks out towards the crowd as he points to a man in a suit who has a phone in his hand recording. 

Man: As of right now there are rumors about your health going around Mrs. Hunter? Are these rumors true? 

Ruthless: When it comes to my health that is something is the family personal business. But does it matter? No matter how my health was in the past I always have given 100 percent of myself in my matches. No matter how my health is at this moment for this tournament. I put on a great match! 

Jason: There are many people might be hoping that my mother health will be in a bad state while we are in this tournament but they have to realize something. Challenges are what makes things interesting in a match. Some of the greatest wrestlers in order to become great they fought through the pain and came out on top. That will be us. Or it could be just something we want people to believe. 

Ruthless smirks. 

Ruthless: At times when people believe someone have a weakness. They will do whatever it takes to make it come to light in a match. They will try to use that weakness against the person. I always felt like this about people so called weakness. That weakness could turn into someone strong point. So if the other teams want to believe these rumors about my health. Go right ahead but later on in our match you will realize you shouldn't have. 

Ruthann looks around as she points towards a female who stood up with a smile. 

Female: Jason, Don't you feel that people might believe you could have got someone else to be your team mate? Why not your father? Why pick your mother? 

Jason just grins. 

Jason: Why not? She was the first ever woman to become the EWC Champion over at EWC. She had some great matches just like my father has over at EWC. I am going, to be honest even thought Jaden is my father but we will not see eye to eye like I do with my mother here. In order to become a tag team champions. You have to know your teammate better than you know yourself. You have to have a unity that no one can't match. So that what I have with my mother. 

Ruthann: This is something I have always wanting to do for the longest with my son. If it was Jaden standing here with him I believe ever the last person in the tournament would be pissing in their boots, to be honest. So I think they all should be happy it is me in this match and not him. 

She smirks 

Ruthann: I am not jealous of my son achievements. This isn't me trying so-called take his time to shine away from him. No! 

Jason: I want to work with my mother because I know she the only one that could and would get my mind in the right state to become a champion. My mother trained me since of the age of 12 inside of that ring. I remember all those late nights working on moves. I remember how she put it into my mind and heart the loves and passion for this sport. I know and truly feel as a team we can and will become tag team champions. 

That when they heard the theme song of another tag team coming out. Jason and Ruthless stare down with the team a bit. It was like tension was building between them both. Jason just smirk as Ruthless Aggresssion walked off to the side of the stage with Jason to some seats. 

[Deleted]

“Now, I’d like to introduce you people the next individuals to attend the conference. King Sasori and his partner whose we proudly have as a NJFC signee, Vincent Strassburg.
Vendetta!”

As soon as they were announced, camera flashes made the entrance shine - followed by murmurs. A man wearing a fine tailored suit gets in the room, it is Vincent. His partner, though, is nowhere to be seen. Vincent’s face expression displays seriousness and slight disappoint, one cannot deny.

Vincent goes toward James first and firmly shakes his hand. They exchange a respectful nod before Strassburg makes his way to the podium.The man grabs the microphone and takes his time to observe the desperate reporters doing their best to catch his attention.

“SILENCE!”

His harsh voice echoed all over the room, which actually caused the murmurs and turmoil to instantly fade. The reporters look to each other appearing to be astonished due to the man’s attitude. Vincent adjusts his suit’s lapel and lets out a loud sigh.

“Firstly, I would like to apologize for showing up by myself. I couldn’t find my partner in the back and I won’t be bothered to look for him if the fucker can’t even be punctual. Sorry for my language too but if you are too much of a pussy to listen to swears then maybe you should find some PG shit to do… Anyway, questions?”

The silence is interrupted by a reporters arguing for the right to ask a question. Finally, one of them catches Vincent’s attention. It is a Japanese reporter; therefore, his question is translated to English. The wrestler listens to the reporter carefully, as if he is attempting to comprehend the language.

“<Vincent-o, it doesn’t look like your team has enough chemistry to win the tournament, to be fairly honest. Do you have anything to say regarding that statement?>”

Vincent once again lets out a deep sigh. He slides his hands over his hair before his answer.

“As much as it will sound like some non-sense bullshit, I have to say that we don’t really need  team chemistry to win the tournament… Man, first of all let me get this off my chest. See, I was standing in the back waiting for Peterson to introduce me so I was listening to this whole thing.
I wish Cashe was actually here to listen to me telling him to go fuck himself. That’s right, Cashe. Fuck you. And fuck Knox too.
Fuck Kashville!
I’ve seen people like y’all before. Plenty of them all over the world – if you ask me.
You’re nothing but some big-mouth punks.
Don’t get me wrong I ain’t trying to disrespect your wrestling skills whatsoever. I know y’all some tough son’va bitches. But y’all need to understand that this is no place for punks. We are talking about legacy.
The prestige and legacy of the GPC Tag Team Championships… Kashville are far from being worthy of representing NJFC, that’s the bottom line.”

An American reporter interrupts Vincent by asking his question right away. We can notice that Vincent looks slightly annoyed due to such thing.

“Ironic coming from you, Vincent. I’ve seen you in USA before and you made a career of trash talking several opponents. By dissing Kashville like that - aren’t you not only being hypocrite but also biting more than you can chew?”

Vincent lets out an amusing chuckle before replying.

“No.
It will be interesting to take those guys on in the ring. I hope I can actually meet’em in the finals, wanna know why? Because I’m eager to shut these fools up… I’m eager to make it rain some blood in that ring.
Matter fact - that goes for everybody.
Wildlin are a bunch of little kids trying to look big. I swear one of those underage looking like motherfuckers even has eye-liner on; don’t get me wrong, but I just wanna let you know that this is pro-wrestling.
This ain’t no beauty contest. Your mom looks damn fine, though, I’ll give you that.”

A couple of reporters laugh along with Vincent. The next question is done by an Indian reporter, judging by his strong accent.

“Over here, Vincent.
According to my researches, you’ve been struck by two lightnings in your last match, which kept you away for months. Are you actually in shape to fight – mentally and physically?”

Vincent remains serious for a silent minute. He rubs his beard before speaking.

“That’s a… Good question.
And the answer is quite simple – I don’t know.
I mean, damn right I’m in shape physically, never been better than nowadays. I’d even like to mention that I embraced Japan as my training grounds.
The whole Puroresu style… I like that. I’ve been training nearly 24/7 and when I’m not in the dojo gettin’ my ass kicked by black-belt sensei, you’ll catch me studying the Japanese culture & language. I’m not the same ol’ brute fucker that only seeks paychecks and title belts like most of the people fighting in this tournament do.
I embrace Japan because Japan embraced me.
It’s been a while since I walked in the streets not having to worry about the next person who would attempt to stab me because I insulted their city in a wrestling show - if you know what I mean.”

Strassburg confidently points at the reporters as he speaks.

“Mentally? I don’t think I’ll ever be prepared mentally. That’s why I’m one of the most dangerous wrestlers in this federation.
You’re looking at a man that has no regards regarding the opponent’s life. Y’see, when I step into the ring and the bell rings, there are no limits.
I’ll hurt you.
I don’t care if you have wife and kids waiting for ya home. Don’t care if you’re just the new kid trying to learn the ropes. Don’t care if you’re just trying to make a living - I just don’t care at all.
Trust me, I will  hurt you.”

Silence once again. This time, Vincent can finally pick the next reporter. He points at a Japanese reporter in the back.

“Kimi-wa shit-sumon.”

The smile across his face shows how proud he is, despite only pronouncing the words “you” and “question”. The reporter gets up and speaks in English.

“Whilst most wrestlers are visiting us for the tournament, we do have NJFC’s own giving a shot for the titles.
The World Heavyweight Champion;
The Junior Heavyweight Champion;
And the NJFC Global Champion.
Does concern ever cross yours and your partner’s minds when you think about them going against you?”

Vincent moves slightly to the side and points at a supposed person right by his side – obviously, nobody replies.

“What do you think, partner?”

Some of the reporters actually laugh, even Peterson lets out a shy chuckle.

“Huh? Nothing to say? C’mon, answer the guy… Oh wait, he ain’t fuckin’ here.
See, I have no idea what’s going through my partner’s mind. So I’d rather talk about my own thoughts.
I have no concerns whatsoever.
I don’t really know Jason and his wife that much - but from my recent observations, I have nothing to say about them but the fact that they are annoying cunts. That’s all really, they don’t deserve more than that for now…
Matter fact, they do.
They deserve to get their asses handed to them – Vendetta will do NJFC a favor by making so happen in this tournament.
As for Bonecrusher… I actually respect him. He seems like a guy that one could share a beer or two – maybe a Sake? Nah not really, Sake sucks ass. Anyway, Bonecrusher represents NJFC well and I respect that. As long as he stays out of my way, we’re cool.”

A reporter is raises his hands to ask his question. Judging by the accent, we can tell he’s British.

“I wish you good luck in your match, Vincent. My question is… What will you do if you don’t walk out as one half of the Tag Team Champions? Any future plans?”

Vincent replies right away definitely annoyed.

“Whoa whoa… What the fuck is that supposed to mean? The question is stupid; therefore, so is my answer.
The answer is - your accent sounds lame.
Next question!”

Turmoil grows as Vincent looks to the crowd of reporters trying to ask something. He lifts his hands up signaling for them to calm down.

“Actually – nevermind.
No more questions for tonight. It’s definitely past the time to talk.
The GPC Tag Team Championships belong to Vendetta…
And Vendetta belongs to NJFC!
For NJFC!”

Vincent bows in sign of respect before making his way out of the room.

[doublefc]

The NJFC Tag-Team-Tropolis press conference table had been reset. The French Mime Assassins sat near the end looking ruefully out at the parade of reporters the here to cover the event, beside them sat Francis Ford Cuppola’s ever-present assistant Rodney P covering his mouth as he spoke to the leaned in Double F C.

Rodney P: Are you sure you want to handle this? I’ve been working with the mimes the most so-

Francis Ford Cuppola: Don’t be silly, Rodney. I’ve interpreted for the late Kim Jong Il, I think I can handle a couple of mimes.

Without further discussion, although Rodney was clearly left with questions after that exchange, Francis stood before the podium with hands at either side, and a calm, easy air about him that demonstrated his years of media experience.

Francis Ford Cuppola: Shall we get started?

James Peterson: Of course. We’ll be taking questions now for the French Mime Assassins and their manager, Francis Ford Cuppola.

The audience applauds.

Francis Ford Cuppola: Thanks, Johnny.

James Peterson: James.

Francis Ford Cuppola: I knew that.

Francis loosens his collar, shaking his head disparagingly at his perception of James Peterson’s insolence. The amiable smile returns nonetheless.

Francis Ford Cuppola: As you all know, I’m the famed director of Barackula, the Rhombus, the Ani-Rhombus and many more classics I’m sure have found a permanent home in your pirated movie library. And, before we really get started, I’d just like to take the time to say the Mimes and myself are very excited to be here in Japan to take part in this prestigious event hosted by New (suavely mumbles the name) Championship this April 30th at the Nippon Bootycall arena.

Rodney P: That’s ‘Budokon’.

Rodney whispers to him.

Francis Ford Cuppola: That's what I said.

Francis tugs at his collar once more, dabbing a handkerchief on his sweat-beaded brow before motioning to one reporter to open the floor.

“Hi, Youki Mizako, Pan-Pacific Free Press, Mr. Cuppola, there’s been some reports that your French Mime Assassins recently got into some sort of street fight altercation against some local wrestlers. How do you respond to concerns the Mimes are too violent for this tournament?”

Francis Ford Cuppola: Look, I understand what you’re saying, I respect that you’re saying it, and I’ll defend to the death your right to say it. But, come on, everyone knows wrestling is a contact sport. Sure the mimes are supremely good at beating people up. In order to be competitive, I had bring in a team capable of competing at a high degree of proficiency against opponents who, frankly, will find themselves sadly outmatched. If you must know, the event in question was a training exercise as per the mimes exhaustive training regimen. We were shooting the Mimes’ promo material, which is currently in post-production and will be released in theaters in time for the summer box office--

Rodney P: Francis--

Rodney trails off, hiding his face. Francis blinks uncertainly at Rodney’s interruption before continuing.

Francis Ford Cuppola: Okay, look, the beat down you’re referring to did get violent, but those were professional stunt wrestlers. We had complete control of the situation the entire time.

“That’s not what the hospital those men were rushed to informed us.”

The reporter has a long-looking list she begins to read from. Francis dabs at the sweat continuously pooling on his forehead.

Francis Ford Cuppola: Is it hot in here? Can someone dim the lights a little?

Francis asks of James Peterson, his hand covers the microphone to block the sound. James Peterson looks estranged from Francis' antics. The reporter reads.

“…including severe lacerations as well as three bruised ribs, four cracked vertebrae—“

Francis Ford Cuppola: Ah, they’re fine. All a misunderstanding. Besides, who are you going to trust, me or some yellow-skinned pseudo-scientific ‘doctor’, am I right?

Francis’ jovial ignorance is met with aghast glares from almost everyone. He realizes his mistake and quickly backpedals.

Francis Ford Cuppola: This interview is over. No more questions.

Francis sits down in a flustered huff and a hail of camera flashes. Rodney looks baffled at him.

Rodney P: Francis, this is a press conference. You have to answer more questions than ‘one’.

Francis Ford Cuppola: I knew that.

Double F C dabs at the sweat on his brow and tugs at his collar and tries to sound agreeable as he stands back up and avoids eye contact with that last reporter.

Francis Ford Cuppola: How about some questions for the Mimes, huh?

Francis dabs at more sweat, looking more and more awkward.

Francis Ford Cuppola: You.

“Hi. Patti Marshall, Associated Press. What is the mimes strategy going into the tournament and how will it differ from the typical French wrestling they’re used to?”

Francis is relieved.

Francis Ford Cuppola: Excellent Question, Pauly.

“Patti.”

Francis Ford Cuppola: I said that.

He dabs his forehead uncomfortably before looking to the mimes.

Francis Ford Cuppola: Well, what do you say to that?

He looks to the mimes. Comme Çi, (or Comme Ça, who knows at this point,) begins miming. Cameras flash as he mimes opening a jar and pretending to guzzle it or something.

“Uh.. what is he trying to say?”

Francis frowns at the gestures a moment before nodding.

Francis Ford Cuppola: Of course!

He smiles to the reporter with newfound understanding.

Francis Ford Cuppola: He’s saying The French Mime Assassins plan to teach their opponents the difference between jam and marmalade at Tag-Team Tropolis.

Whispers and murmurs and confused blinks are the response, before…

“What…IS the difference between marmalade and jam?”

Francis looks back to the mime to mime the answer to the question.

Francis Ford Cuppola: He says you can’t marmalade your cock down a dead opponent’s throat!

Collective gasp from the crowd.

The mime mimes a huge belly laugh. Francis’ jaw drops as soon as he says it. Francis surveys the stunned silence from the crowd. He looks to Rodney who looks at him wide-eyed at him with embarrassment, mouthing the words ‘what are you doing?’

Francis Ford Cuppola: Son of a bitch mime, what are you doing to me here?

He mumbles to himself inexplicably glaring at the mime. He tugs at his collar, dabs the sweat from his forehead.

“Mr. Cuppola, don’t try to make this controversial. Can you just let the mime speak for himself, please?”

Francis looks into the audience, shielding his eyes from the lights, which seem far too bright all of a sudden.

Francis Ford Cuppola: He's a mime. He doesn't speak.

“And you’re taking advantage by putting words into his mouth. There’s no way that mime mimed all that.”

Francis is clearly defeated.

Francis Ford Cuppola: You’re right. I apologize.

Francis is annoyed.

Francis Ford Cuppola: Next question, please.

“Hi, Mike Lee, Tokyo Chronicle, what CAN we expect from the Mimes in the ring?”

Francis, still flustered, looks to the mimes. One of them begins to mime something elaborate. Francis begins to nod as he picks up on it and interprets:

Francis Ford Cuppola: He’s saying it’ll be an absolute bloodbath. Every opponent they face will lose one limb in order to be beaten with it. He says everyone they face should consider their lives forfeit when stepping into ‘their ring’ and expect nothing but pain and misery to follow, and if they’re really lucky The French Mime Assassins won’t force their opponents to watch as their wives, girlfriends, or significant others are forced to fellate them before the sold-out crowd and then take a used hose and stick it up their bum, and—

An uproar. Francis is forced to stop his interpretation as the press conference bursts into outrage.

“There’s no way those mimes would even THINK a thing like that!”

Francis innocently shrugs his shoulders and looks to Rodney P, who is clearly eyeing the exit as some very modest aspects of the crowd bring in a police officer and point out Francis.

Francis Ford Cuppola: I… it… uhhh…

Worried, Francis leans down to Rodney for an explanation.

Francis Ford Cuppola: Did you know these mimes had a mouth like that?!

Rodney can only look at his employer with skeptical derision and incredulity before the mimes suddenly flip the press conference table and create an even larger ruckus. Pandemonium.

Francis Ford Cuppola: Rodney!

Rodney executes quick thinking, collecting the Mimes, and Francis and ushering them off the stage before further havoc breaks loose. Francis, ushered off stage, looks at Rodney with ecstatic glee.

Francis Ford Cuppola: Rodney! These mimes are a goldmine! We single-handedly brought controversy to the New Tag Team Tripoli Championship! Do you have any idea how much this will boost our ticket sales?!

Francis’ eyes have lit up with all the possibilities as Rodney rushes his boss and the Mimes to the safety of the green room.

[tigermaskred]

PRESS CONFERENCE

James Peterson: At this time, please welcome the team consisting of two former singles champions. One is a well versed luchador, according to many the greatest masked wrestler today. The other is an American technical wrestler extraordinaire. They are Tiger Mask Red, D.C. Wiland, The Usual Rudos!



The Canadian-American duo walks onto the podium, dressed in matching, tailor-made suits. The Main Man, D.C. Wiland, steps to the microphones.



D.C. Wiland: First off, I’d like to say: あなたの娼婦を放棄!



Tiger Mask Red: Frank, what the hell is that? You didn’t say anything about speaking Japanese.



D.C. Wiland: I only know this one phrase. “Surrender Your Whores.” It’s that one sentence I know in every language.



Tiger Mask Red: Ah, alright then.



The luchador steps forward to give a more formal introduction.



Tiger Mask Red: Ladies and gentlemen, in case you don’t know who I am. My name is Tiger Mask Red and I am the best damn masked wrestler in any company that I’m in and when I say that, it’s not an insult, it’s a damn fact of life. Now, I’m sure that you all have questions for Deezy and myself, so hurry up because we have a tournament to win.



A reporter raises shoots the first question.



Reporter: What’s your--



D.C. Wiland: Scones with strawberry jam.



The room goes silent as nobody really knows what Wiland is talking about.



D.C. Wiland: You were asking about our favorite breakfast on a lazy Sunday, right? I can’t speak for Tiger’s, but I’d freakin’ kill a man for a couple of scones and a big old jar of strawberry jam.



Tiger Mask Red: I’ve always had a soft spot for Saskatoon jam personally.



A chatter starts among the journalists. These guys can’t be for real, can they? Finally, the hero who asked the initial question is given his chance to ask it in full.



Reporter: No, I-- I actually meant what’s your gameplan in this tournament? I mean, you’re a fairly new pairing, while there’s quite a few teams who are--



D.C. Wiland: Wack as fuck?



Alright, almost in full. Wiland’s remark draws some laugh from other journalists and eventually cracks him up too.



D.C. Wiland: I can just do this all day, man.



Tiger Mask Red: Might as well add King of the Press Conferences to your list of nicknames.



D.C. Wiland: King of-- Hmm, I’ll see how it rolls of the tongue.



Tiger Mask Red: That it does, Deezy. (Turning to the reporter) To answer your question, Cupcake, it doesn’t matter how much more experience some of these other teams have over us. We are the God damn ‘Usual Rudos’ and we don’t fucking play second fiddle to any team. If you know our history than you know that we’re used to walking into a company and taking over. If these other teams have a problem with that, well, too bad. They’re all about to be in for ‘Rudo Awakening’, if you catch my meaning.



Reporter: So what is your opinion of your opponents in the opening round, Timetus Mortuem?



Tiger Mask Red: Yeah real cute, “Fear Death” in latin. I wonder if they came up with that themselves or did they need help looking it up?



D.C. Wiland: They did a crappy job at that, too. Let it be known, that me and Tiger Mask Red fear nothing. Well, maybe spiders. Fuck spiders. But as I said already, when you strip those guys--



Tiger Mask Red: Ew. I’m not doing that.



D.C. Wiland: Bear with me, man. When you strip them off their stupid latin Satanic bullshit--



Tiger Mask Red: Ah, alright.



D.C. Wiland: --Then you only got two random fellers, like millions of those me and Tiger have already faced. What I’m really looking forward to is facing Johnny Bonecrusher and his crazy buddy, just so I can wipe the floor with him before I eventually have a chance to beat him one on one in Texas.



Reporter: If you manage to become the--



D.C. Wiland: Absolutes, mate. Absolutes.



Reporter: (sighs) Alright… WHEN you manage to become the GPC Tag Team Champions, what are your plans with the belts?



Tiger Mask Red: First off, we’re going to put on a celebration to end all celebrations, then after we get the titles sterilized (laughs) we’re going to defend them all over the planet: Pollomania, Strike Towers, Championship Wrestling from Texas, Guerreros of Lucha; you name it, we’ll take the belts there and prove that we are the greatest team out there today!



Reporter: Ok, hypothetical question: What happens if you lose?



Tiger Mask Red: What the fuck do you mean “if we lose”?



D.C. Wiland: That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard! You know what, this press conference is over!



The pair march off the stage and throw insults as the reporters as they leave the room.

[Bronx Valescence]

The press muttered between people coming in and out of the press room, but it was Bronx who awaited just outside the door as he awaited his posse to join him. Bryan Williams had finally arrived for the huge event in Japan. Terry McKenna had already joined Bronx, and also joining the fray as McKenna’s partner, Anatasia Hayden—Ana for short.
Bronx had talked the group into dressing in their nicest suits, Terry McKenna and Bryan Williams were both dressed in black suits with black ties, sunglasses over their face. They looked like body guards with Bronx standing between them. Bronx glanced back at Ana.

“Are you coming or not?”

Ana shook her head.

“This is a really stupid idea.”

The two stared each other down for a moment, Ana was a tough cookie to crack.

“Fine, but I’m not buying your ice cream after. They would hate your accent anyway. ”

Ana rolled her eyes as Bronx pushed the door open.

“I DON’T HAVE AN ACCENT.”

She called after him as the camera bulbs begin to flash as Bronx walked into the room, also dressed in his best suit with Terry McKenna and Bryan Williams in tow with him, they stayed silent and as Bronx sat down at the table, they stood beside him. Terry wearing some thick framed black sunglasses which he peered over, just in case he had to arm bar anyone who got out of line. Bryan had his hair tied up in his classic man bun with a pair of aviators. Bronx’s was done up all over the place. Bronx leaned into the mic for his opening statements.

“Would like to thank my friends agent TMac and agent BWill for making their way into the press conference room with me today. I know that last time I saw you guys I wasn’t in the best of health, but it seems everything has cleared up. I’m at about 90 percent on my ankle and no pain in my back. I had to make sure nobody would plan a sneak attack, so that’s why my boys are here with me today. And by the way, we plan to be a force to be reckoned with here in this company…Now I’ll open it up for questions.”

Bronx pointed to the first hand that went up, a rotund Japanese man sitting in the front row.

“Twitterはこの確執をした方法”

The room stayed silent for a moment as Bronx leaned into the microphone.

“I have no clue what you just said.”

McKenna leaned down into his ear and translated it for him. Bronx looked up and nodded—smartly like he had translated it himself.

“Ah yes, Twitter. It seems as if I talk about social media every time I am out here. I’ve told you all once before, the Bronx you see here isn’t the Bronx you’re going to see in the states. I respect the Japanese culture. I respect the wrestling here and how it’s treated as a sport—and while I’m still going to have fun, it doesn’t seem like Julian and Jordan has been keen to keep me in their conversations on social media. I know Julian started a little hashtag about Jordan and he wanted this to be about me and him, but I have nothing for Julian personally. I don’t know him, he’s just another opponent to me. So while they bicker like children, as always I will back it up in the ring as I have done time and time again here.”

The crowd chattered and another hand shot up, this time an American wearing a lanyard around his neck with a camera in his hand.

“Some would say you’ve been unable to back up being an Ace of the junior division here in NJFC. What would you say to those critics?”

For a moment, Bronx paused.

“I would say to watch my matches. I feel the crowd is more lit when I come out and when I’m in a match than any other person on the show. Hell, even the main event. So I would say watch me, watch me raise not only my game but my opponents game when I step into the ring. I know this whole thing has been focused on a tag team tournament, and I love tag team wrestling so that’s all well and good, but I’m out to have the match of the night with Jordan and Julian, and we don’t need ladders and chairs to prove it. All we need is a four sided ring and three ropes with four posts and we’re going to tear it down.”

Another bit of chatter before Bronx silenced it by pointing over to someone else. A smaller Japanese woman dressed like a reporter would. She spoke English well enough.

“What are you hoping the special prize at the end of the match is? Have you any clue?”

Bronx shook his head, some of his curls fell into his face and he pushed them away.

“This is a good time for a happy ending joke....But...Nothing has been leaked, nor have I heard any rumblings backstage. Look, nothing at the end of this match, or what lies beyond it will have any effect on how hard I wrestle or if I bring it. I don’t need a steak dangling in front of me to win a special prize. Even if this had been announced as a normal match—I would wrestle it all the same. I’ve taken a lot of pressure off of myself in the last month, but this feels like a must win for me, especially after I feel that I was embarrassed by Tara Davidson last month…I will rectify it this month. I promise.”

He winked before he pushed his chair back and then stood up to stand beside Bryan and Terry McKenna as flash bulbs of cameras went off. Bronx gave one more wave to the crowd before exiting the room to allow the next person or team to come in.

[bryanfnlaughlin]

JAMES PETERSON: “Next up the tag team representing 4CW, the team known as Wildlin. Jett Wilder and Bryan Laughlin. Represented by the lovely Carmella.”

James nods to Carmella standing off to the side as Jett Wilder and Bryan Laughlin take their seats. Jett with a smirk while Bryan with a more stoic yet equally confident demeanor. They sit down Bryan leaning back in his chair as Jett has a big grin on his face.

JETT: “Make these questions good, you're asking the future tag team champions.”

The two look out upon the crowd, as the first reporter on hand steps up.

REPORTER #1: “Gentleman..Have to say there's been plenty of interest here regarding your team. You two are such opposites and your mother garnering a lot of interest as well Jett. We're wondering if we could get your thoughts on Bryan and your mother’s relationship?”

Laughs are heard around as Bryan sits up a bit, the line of questioning catching him off guard. Jett shakes his head not buying into it at all.

JETT: “Bryan is my tag team partner. Of course he and my mom are going to be friends. That is it. Nothing more.”

REPORTER #1: “There are reports the two of them were seen out on what could only be called a date...”

The same reporter steps back up to the plate, before he can finish Jett Wilder interrupts him angrily.

JETT: “It wasn’t a date, they’re planning how we're going to win this tournament. You know the tournament you guys are supposed to be asking about? Bryan and I came a long way to be here. Japan is a LONG ways away. And apparently the time zones are different? But we came all this way to because we are a team, and we know we can get the job done. We haven’t technically ever teamed up before but Bryan is my best friend in 4CW. He, my mom and I are here on business. We plan on winning the GPC Tag Team Championships and defending them for a long time. So we would appreciate it, if you all showed respect. Because when we become tag team champions, you’ll all want us to be doing photoshoots and media. And maybe we won’t be so nice.”

Jett looks and nods to Bryan, to say he handled it. At least for now. The next reporter jumps in.

REPORTER #3: “Bryan, Jett has already discussed his opinion on the relationship between you and his mother Carmella – from your view will this have any effect on your chemistry in the tournament?”

BRYAN: “Seriously? My relationship with Carmella is professional. She is now my legal representation. Nothing is going to affect our team chemistry, aren’t you supposed to ask questions about the tournament? Here I’ll help. Bryan why will WIldLin win? Well I think Jett covered that already, but I’ll reiterate. We’re the perfect recipe for unpredictable chaos. The perfect parts of the whole that will take this company by storm. We are the future of NJFC tag team wrestling as long as we have Carmella by our side we’re unstoppable.”

Neither wrestler looking very happy to be there, but both looking ready to handle business.

REPORTER #3: “Jett you’ve had harsh words for some of the tag team’s in the tournament. You are both very confident, but you do have history with a few teams here. How do you think they'll do, and how do you think you two will fair against them?”

JETT: “Obviously we're going to win, that’s guaranteed. I mean I know some of them. Jason Cashe? Bryan already beat him. Sativa? I always got the better of her back in 4CW. Her partner Bryan Williams? I beat in go-kart’s a few times. I’ve seen him have a history of walking out on his tag team partners. So I know when push comes to shove he doesn’t hold the kind of loyalty to Sativa as he did his last tag team partner. If he was willing to leave THAT one high and dry, what makes Sativa think she can trust him anyways? She can’t is the simple answer. Tommy Knox I know just cause I used to ask for Skittles and he used to have to go get them for me as Road Agent. He’s washed up already, we all know that. Those teams don't worry us.”

Jett looks out confidently, then over at Bryan and his mother for more confidence before continuing.

JETT: “The guy in our first match Johnny Bonecrusher used to be in 4CW and he became the laughing stock of the entire company. People used to say that he was more of a limp boner than a bone crusher. I don’t really know what means but that was his nickname. He got made fun of because he couldn’t hang, now he’s over here doing well – good for him. But now the two brightest and best stars from 4CW have come to Japan and that belt he holds currently? We'll make sure it’s the only one he gets over here. Because he and Maxwell will be just the first on our path to taking home Tag Team Gold. This tournament, is made for us. We’re on the same page, have great stamina, and can get the job done Wildlin will be household names in Japan. “We were made for a night like this, we're a team that will gel quickly. And when all's said and done, a ladder match is where we'll thrive. My friend Bryan is a destroyer in these kinds of matches and I am one of the best high flyer’s there are in the game. Neither of us are afraid to jump around and do things that the Japanese crowd is going to love. But we aren’t here to make fans of all the Chinese people. We are here to win gold and at the end of the show, we will be climbing those ladders and getting that tag team gold.”

[Bryan Williams]

With Bronx gone, Bryan removes his sunglasses and motions for someone to join him. Sativa comes walking up onto the dress, her attire totally not fitting for the setting, a pair of cut off shorts and a cut off white Sublime shirt. Bryan undoes his suit jacket, and looks out at the crowd of reporters.

”Here’s how we’re going to do this. You all will shut up, and listen to the next GPC World Tag Team champions talk, got it?”

The room stays silent, but it seems it would have been that way without instruction from Bryan.

”Seen a lot of people talking today, but the only words that matter will be coming from Sativa and Myself. I know what you’re all going to ask, typical questions for typical people. We are not a typical team, we are not your everyday run of the mill tag team. We are the New Paradigm, a new shift in the balance of NJFC…”

”A new team to show their dominance. A team to set the standard of champions and talent.”

Bryan looks around the room again.

”I’ll open up the floor for a little bit, but I swear the moment we get a terrible question we are both out of here…”

Bryan and Sativa look around the room, Sativa gets Bryan’s attention to an older man up in the front. Bryan points to him.

”Hello, you both are coming from a very different promotion in contrast to NJFC. Do you have any thoughts or concerns about this, heading into this tournament?”

Sitting back down, Bryan whispers something to Sativa. They both nod.

”They are as different a place from where we are now as every place I have been is different from the one before it. You just trust in your talent and adapt.”

”We will adapt, by the way. I see a lot of people I know in this tournament already, I can already tell you all that we both will have no problem adapting to whatever is thrown in front of us.”

Another reporter cuts in, almost cutting Bryan off.

”Is it a weird feeling, for the both of you, tagging with a new partner?”

”No, it isn’t. I’ve seen Sativa in the ring before, I know she’s able to come up big during championship opportunities. I won the tag titles in Boardwalk with a different partner, I won in 4CW with a different partner. I’ll win again with a different partner.”

”I have only ever won gold with one person. But don’t let that fool you. My trainer has had multiple tag team title reigns, all with different partners. He taught me how to work with anyone at any time. This tournament will show exactly that and what I have learned.”

The room becomes silent, as Bryan looks around for a moment. An annoyed laugh can be heard, as he brings the mic back up to speak again.

”That’s it? No other questions? You guys had to wait this whole time for us to come up here, and that’s all you got? Don’t be worried about us leaving, I’m just playing the part right now. Seriously, somebody else ask us another question.”

Another man stands up.

”Bryan, this question is for you-”

”Better make it a good one.”

He says, while interrupting the reporter. The reporter gives a timid laugh, continuing his thought.

”Are you worried about the inclusion of any teams? Anybody in the tournament that you might consider as trouble?”

Bryan thinks for a moment, before shaking his head.

”No, not really.”

His answer quick, the reporter stands there hoping for a little bit more. Bryan rolls his eyes.

”Okay, I’ll elaborate since you want a soundbite. What are you looking for, you want me to say that I’m worried about the Davidsons, or Jason Cashe and Tommy Knox? What about Terry McKenna? No, that doesn’t work for you?”

The reporter says nothing, as Bryan continues to speak.

”How about this, I’m not worried about anyone. If anything they should be worried about US. We’re the best tag team in this division, by far. When Saturday rolls around we’ll show exactly why. You’re looking at the next GPC World Tag Team champions right now, on this stage. So no, there’s no trouble headed our way. There’s some rough times ahead, brutal matches that await us both, but no trouble. Nothing that we haven’t both been through before.”

The reporter nods, and sits back down in his seat. Another reporter stands up.

”“Sativa, it isn’t a secret that you have multiple enemies in this tournament, how does that affect your mentality going into this?”

Sativa smirks and sits up a little straighter.

”Yes I have made it no secret that I hate Johnny Blowjobber and that perennial mother’s boy Jett Wilder. The only problem, or perk you could say, about them in this event is that they are facing off against each other in the first round. I would love nothing more than to be able to end both their chances, but I will have to deal with it. I do find it highly ironic that they are facing each other. I get to have my two biggest threats fight it out and make my life easier. I can only imagine their thoughts on that.”

Bryan looks around the room again, as it quickly turns quiet. He sighs, rubbing his forehead.

”That’s it? We flew all the way out here for that? I got to tell you, there’s a reason we don’t bother with this sort of thing at home. It’s not that we don’t like answering questions, it’s that the questions already have the answers to them. The moment we showed up in Japan, the true winners were decided. The New Paradigm is here, and we will set the precedence of excellence in this tournament. That good enough for you all?”

There’s a bit of murmuring in the room, Bryan looks at Sativa and nods.

”Alright then, thank you for your time. We’re outta here. Next time you see us, we’ll be holding those GPC World Tag titles.”

The sound of reverberating feedback can be heard, as Bryan and Sativa drop their microphones. They quickly leave the stage, allowing for the next team to come on.

[The Assassins]

James Peterson: Ladies and Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce to you all from Russia: “The Assassins”, Lucy and Maxim Seraphina!



The crowd cheers as Lucy and Maxim walks up to the podium.



Lucy: Kon'nichiwa Japan!



Maxim: And arigatō for allowing us to come to this wonderful country.



Again the Japanese crowd cheers.



Lucy: For those who don’t know us let us introduce ourselves. First off I’m Lucy Seraphina-



Maxim: And I’m Maxim Seraphina. Lucy and I are cousins and we come from Russia. Lucy here has nearly five years of being in the ring and has won multiple belts and is a Hall of Famer. Myself though I’ve seen little to nothing in the ring but I’ve been training to step in. Lucy and I, are in fact trained assassins. Yes we’re the real deal and accept no substitutes when it comes to us.



Lucy: Also we’re part of the famous Angel Clan-



Lucy gets cut off by the crowd cheering loudly for that. Both Lucy and Maxim smile.



Lucy: Oh you all knew that! You guys are smart. Now people are going to say that they have the better bond. That they are going to win this because of that. Honestly I can’t help but to laugh at that. You see there are certain teams who have broken up and reformed. Then you have us. You have the team that is family! The team that has never went away. The team that Japan has loved for years because we know honor! We know loyalty! We know it and we live it.



Maxim: The Kojiki was written in the eleventh century according to what they said. It would go on to say the Japanese military values known as Bushido, the code of the Samurai: Righteousness, courage, benevolence, respect, sincerity, honor, loyalty and self-control. Really that is us. Yes we’re assassins but even we have a code.



It was true though, the Assassins weren’t strangers to Japan and they were like them. To say at least they were always cheered for in Japan.



Maxim: Say Lucy don’t you have a match in Japan as well?



Lucy: Hai, I do. But right now let’s focus on this though.



Maxim: Alright, alright. Really what else can we say?



Lucy smirked at him.



Lucy: Watashi wa Nihon no hitobito ni anata ni kansha to iitaidesu. Sore wa anata ga watashi to watashi no kyōdai wa koko de tatakau koto o kyoka suru koto o son'nani imi shimasu. Wareware wa dekiru to Nihon no hitobito ni kanren shite imasu. Jigoku watashi wa koko ni watashi no besuto matchi no ikutsu ka o motte imashita. Daremoga sono 1-jikan okotta rūshīreicheru tai matchi o oboete imasu ka?



Maxim’s eyes went wide as Lucy spoke.



Maxim: For the non-Japanese speakers, I’ll translate. “I want to say thank you to the people of Japan. It means so much that you allow myself and my Brother to fight here. We can and do relate to the Japanese people. Hell I've had some of my best matches here. Anyone remember that one time the Lucy vs Rachel match that happened?”



The crowd cheered and laughed. Lucy knew Rachel was going to kill her for bringing that one back up.



Lucy: Anata wa sore o oboete imasu! Watashi wa Makishimu ga koko no basho no sukoshi soto o kanjiru chi tte iruga, sore wa daijōbudesu. Watashi wa watashi no itoko o shinjite imasu. Watashitachi wa kore o katsu to shinjite imasu. Watashitachiha, subete no nochi ni shōshadeari, watashitachiha sekai no chanpionda imi shimasu. Watashitachiha watashitachi no tamede wa naku, Nihon no hitobito no tame dakede wa naku, kore o jushō shite iru koto o o yakusoku shimasu. Watashi wa o shiri ka nanika ni kisute inai yo, watashi wa shōjikidesu.



Maxim: “You do remember that! I know Maxim here feels a little out of place but it's okay. I believe in my cousin; I believe that we'll win this. I mean we are winners after all and we're champions of the world. I promise that we're winning this not just for us but for the people of Japan. I'm not kissing ass or anything, I'm being honest.” Lucy we know you are.



Lucy smiles at him.



Maxim: You know if anyone wants to say anything different I promise we’ll assassinate you in the middle of the ring. Lucy and I have overcome odds that people wouldn’t believe. We come from a world where people would call bullshit. People don’t believe and that’s okay. We’ll always overcome and show them why they’re wrong.



Lucy: Oh we’re going to do it now. I hope they know what they’re getting into.



Maxim: You know they don’t! Japan we’re here to win, we’re here to make an impact and the competition is about to get interesting.



Lucy laughs.



Lucy: Oh yes it is… Pray that we don't end you, hope for mercy because in the ring we show none. We’re Seraphinas and we’re ruthless there. We fight to win and we fight to survive. I mean in all of this competition only one team has faced me personally.



Maxim: And I’m just the new guy!



Lucy laughs again.



Maxim: Let’s go and good luck.



Lucy: Let’s. We’re done here. We hate talking as is.



Lucy and Maxim turn to leave.



James Peterson: Thank you and please give it up for the Assassins!

[jace]

James Peterson: We’ve had some very interesting and colorful teams come up and speak so far but allow me to introduce to you two people that you already know very well.

The reporters and media personnel all stand on their feet and begin buzzing with anticipation over the next team to come out and speak.

James Peterson: They are representing The Wrestling Kingdom. They are the King and Queen of NJFC. The current GPC Junior Heavyweight and the reigning GPC World Heavyweight Champion. They are Ascended Supremacy!!!

The sound of “Cut The Cord” by Shinedown begins to blast out throughout the conference room as both Jason and Tara Davidson step out towards the podium to a sea of flashbulbs going off from the media personnel. Tara has her GPC Junior Heavyweight Championship belt proudly displayed over her right shoulder as her husband also sports a cocky grin on his face while carrying his GPC World Heavyweight Championship belt over his shoulder. James Peterson steps aside allowing the two to step forward as their music dies down.

Tara Davidson: We apologize for you all being so utterly bored until now but I guess you just can’t hire good competition.

Every single one of the media personnel all start trying to ask questions towards the two of them at the same time but Jason holds his hand into the air to silence the crowd.

Jason P. Davidson: Come on now you all know the drill by now. We don’t answer your questions, we come out there and we tell you like it is. We give you the information you need to know.

Tara Davidson: And the only thing you need to know is that Ascended Supremacy is the only team here that’s walking out of Tokyo as the GPC World Tag Team Champions.

Jason P. Davidson: It doesn’t matter if it’s Kashville, Wildlin, whatever the fuck Bryan Williams and Shitiva are calling themselves.

Tara Davidson: You can forget about the fucking mimes, the tiny orange oompa loompa that calls himself the Global Champion, or even Kurt Newman’s team. None of them are winning this tournament because none of them can hold a candle to the two of us.

Jason P. Davidson: Not a single one of these teams can stand here and say they consist of not one but two members that have already been here in Japan, already conquered the competition, and call themselves Champions except us.

Jason and Tara both raise their respective Championship belts from their shoulders and hold them high into the air. Another sea of flashbulbs go over as the two pose for a minute before returning their belts back down to their shoulders.

Tara Davidson: It just amazes me the arrogance and stupidity of these teams running around here talking about how they are going to win the tournament or are the perfect fit for GPC World Tag Team Champions when 90% of you haven’t even wrestled a single match in this company before.

Jason P. Davidson: Not a single team out here in this entire competition can claim they have faced and defeated us tag team and yet they want to come into our company, our territory, and our Kingdom and claim victory before even lifting a single finger to prove themselves worthy?

Tara Davidson: None of them are worthy, none of them are leaving here with gold because not a single one of them is worth the dirt underneath my six inch heels. And as much as we would love… LOVE to stand here and go through each and every single team that would just be a waste of our precious time and yours.

Jason P. Davidson: Ascended Supremacy is a cut above the rest. While everyone else wants to sit here and run their cocksuckers about how they are going to be Champions. Allow us to show you what being Champions is all about.

There is a hush that falls over the crowd as Jason and Tara both turn and look towards the back of the stage. After a few moments a large display case is wheeled out from the back onto the stage. Inside of the display case are the brand new GPC World Tag Team Championship belts. The media personnel go nuts trying to snap off pictures or ask questions about the belts that have only been seen in pictures on social media until this very moment.

Tara Davidson: That’s it, wheel OUR Championship belts on out here so we can give the world a sneak peek of just what they are going to see at the end of this event.

There is an outpouring of rage from the teams already on stage that spoke earlier. Even some of the teams from the back that haven’t yet gotten to come out and speak seem to take offense to the fact that the members of Ascended Supremacy are given access to the belts. James Peterson is bombarded with questions and complaints from fellow competitors in the tournament as the case is pushed up beside both Jason and Tara. The display case is opened as Jason reaches in and grabs a hold of one of the GPC World Tag Team Championship belts that he holds up high for the media personnel to see.

Jason P. Davidson: Beautiful, isn’t it? It’s the reason that twenty four different teams have made the trip all the way here to Japan, but unfortunately twenty-three of them are going back home empty handed. And I want you to feel bad for them. I want you to feel sympathy for them because we feel bad for them. They deserve your admiration because they are the brave souls that are going to mowed down one by one until these belts are around our waists. So please let’s give them a round of applause.

Tara begins clapping her hands together vigorously as she looks over at all the other teams on stage which causes the media personnel to join in with clapping and cheering. Jason takes the GPC World Tag Team Championship belt that’s in his hand and begins to put it around the waist of his wife. Once snapped on Tara grabs the other Tag Team Championship belt and places it around the waist of her husband. The clapping of course quiets down as the focus goes to snapping off pictures of the members of Ascended Supremacy wearing the GPC World Tag Team Championship belts.

Tara Davidson: Just look at them. Look at each and every single one of them sitting there staring at us with hatred burning in their eyes. Each one of them could chew nails right now because they are forced to live our their worst nightmare right before their very eyes. The reality is a hard pill to swallow and seeing these belts around our waists it making them start to accept the fact that this is exactly where they are going to stay.

Jason P. Davidson: So please by all means come up here and continue to just talk about being Champions. Talk about how you’re going to do this and that and the other. I’m sure all of these people will buy into your cheap hype especially two people here who instead of just talking about it came out here and showed you how serious we are about leaving with these belts. Your poorly strung together words will mean so much to the ears of all of these people when you’ve just be one upped by two people who are already Champions in this company.

Tara Davidson: However we dare any of you to actually try and do something to prove us wrong. We invite each of you to try your hardest to make this challenging for the two of us. The first team that gets the chance is G.X.M. but we all know we’re going to beat the two of them without even breaking a sweat. However after that who knows which one of you might be the lucky team that gets the chance to take us on in this tournament.

Jason P. Davidson: We’re looking at you Kashville in the semi-finals.

Tara Davidson: It’s all about teamwork guys. Most of you will probably have to lose just so one of you has at least a shot. A tiny little shot at taking us down. Which one of you that is? It matter not to us because we’re walking in as Champions and we’ll be leaving as the very best tag team in the entire world.

Jason and Tara step away from the podium and are escorted off the stage by a pack of security guards as order is restored so that the next team can come up and continue the press conference.

[tragik]

"TRAGIIIIIIIK!"

All of the reporters leap to their feet, camera bulbs popping.

"TRAGIIIIIIIK!"

Security guards appear out of nowhere, attempting to hold back a sudden rush of totally hot school girls from flooding into the room.

"THE MAGNI-FI-CEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENT!"

Tragik bursts into the room! The crowd of reporters jump up and down, already hoping to have their questions answered. Several security guards go down amongst the onslaught of freakin' stacked hotties. Tragik just smiles that sexy smile, taking in his kingdom. He is wearing his golden robe, feathered boa behind held behind him by his group of nameless/faceless Asian whores, like the world's most elegant bridal train. He saunters toward the microphone, stylin' and profilin'.


Tragik: Hello everybody!

The crowd bursts into cheers, the Zerg Rush of Japanese hotness coming to a sudden halt at the sound of his voice.


Tragik: I'm here, baby! 

The Zerg Rush of hotness bursts into spontaneoius chants.

Hot Chicks: YOU ARE OUR GOD ::CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP:: YOU ARE OUR GOD ::CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP::

Tragik  raises a sexy-ass hand and silences them in but a moment.

Tragik: Now, I'm sure you are all wondering how I ended up here. Partially to get my groove on with some totally hot chicks. Partly also because my total BFF, D.C. to the mother fuckin' Wiland, is here. Hey buddy! But also because someone needed help. Someone, in their time of epic need, called out to the Gods. This person fell to their knees, begging and pleading, for a savior to be sent, a very Christ for wrestling. And while I am used to totally hawt chicks falling to their knees in front of me, and not some dude, I couldn't let this poor guy down. No...no...I am too much of a man to let another person down. I am a hero, THE HERO, of this sport. So I answered the call. I stepped in, sexily, when no one else would. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I stepped in to be the Christ of my tag team partner, The Motherfuckin' Natural himself, Mike Jamison!


A slight commotion occurs, and Mike Jamison is seen making a B-line to the microphone knocking over a slew of reporters and an onlooking fan eating ramen and cat in his path. Mike wears a pair of aviator sunglasses and is sporting a gray sports coat with a pair of dark blue jeans and brown dress shoes.  

Tragik and Jamison exchange a massive high-five.

Random Reporter: Do you two think you will be able to gel as a team on such short notice?


Tragik: First of all, that's a stupid question. Of course we're going to be able to gel. I mean, do you realize how fuckin' badass I am? Seriously, Insert Generic Tag Team Name Here will probably just lay down for me as soon as we get into the ring. My partner here won't even have to do anything, ya know? Which is great! He gets to save his strength for the next round.

A fist bump is exchanged.


Another Random Reporter: Don't you think you are underestimating your opponents?


Tragik: I'll take this one too, Mikey. Now, let me make one thing PERFECTLY CLEAR!


The crowd gasps at his blatant stealing of some other dude's catch-phrase.


Tragik: There are no stupid questions, just stupid people. Now, can we get a question from someone who isn't a complete moron?


Female Reporter: We haven't heard from Mike yet, Mike why such a late partner switch?


Jamison: Good Question dragon lady, Charlie Kline is a PUNK that's why. He backed out for unknown reasons and put my back against a wall to find a partner or come fight this horde of international and Japanese wrestlers.  So I found one of the craziest bastards in America, Tragik. This sick son of a bitch is a hardcore champion for over 3 years. Who else in this tournament can say that? I can wrestle but I need someone who is a madman watching my back. So I guess he's right on the whole savior part, kind of. More like a 60/40 savior to sick bastard ratio. Surprisingly good question from a female reporter.

Another fist bump....into a high five! Where do they come up with this shit?!

Jamison: Next.....guy up front that lookings like he's straining to take a shit or his face is just that ugly all the time...shoot


Reporter: Can you trust Tragik being this is a new team?


Jamison: Trust him, why the fuck wouldn't I? Let's be real, he's just like me. He wants to get paid and having these tag titles is gonna do just that.  We'll at least make double what were making once we go back to the States with these belts. So why the fuck would he turn his back on me when we know bigger paydays lie ahead? Jesus Christ for going to school seven days a week I thought you wouldn't come at me with such stupid questions. Aren't you people supposed to be highly intelligent or is that just the Chinese and you take credit cause you all look the same?



Tragik: Alright, enough questions. Its time to break this shit down: The team of Tragikally Natural is going to reign supreme this weekend. We're going to drive some boots into people asses, and then drive some cocks into some asses at the after party. And you know what is going to happen then? The J-Man and I are going to leave this dump. That's right, we're going to take all the drugs and whores off the island and high-tail it back to Texas, the tag titles on our shoulders. Straps around our waists, Asian lips buried in our crotches. Then we're going to spray paint bigass letters across the belts, big ol' C-Dub-T. That's right, new Classic Wrestling from Texas tag champs. Tell 'em, J-Man.


Jamison: That's right, once we win this belts they'll never see this shithole of an island again. You want them back NJFC then come to Texas and come find us. We wont mind kicking some visa workers asses for a quick payday. Now where the hell can a guy go to eat around here where the food isn't alive crawling around your feet before its killed?

Tragik: See ya around.