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Opinionated nerd for hire.
Most Recent Posts
Think of it as playing Career Mode-- you don't start off with the titles, you've gotta win a boss-fight first.
Added the current Champions onto the roster, as well as adding a few more NPC wrestlers to interact with.
I hadn't actually made any titles yet, but I can add them in really quick. Since I'd made it a big deal in IC that 'Handsome' Jack Ransome was the top draw, I can easily edit it so that he was the World Champion and had to vacate the belt because of his injury.
As for the other belts, I'll whip up some NPC title-holders and add them to the Locker Room CS.
As for the other belts, I'll whip up some NPC title-holders and add them to the Locker Room CS.
Nah, I just wrote it out that Faces are in blue and Heels are in red.
THE WWA LOCKER ROOM
(AKA the Jobbers and NPCS)
(AKA the Jobbers and NPCS)
CURRENT CHAMPIONS:
WWA WORLD CHAMPION: (VACANT)
WWA TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS: The Munsen Brothers
WWA WOMEN'S CHAMPION: Dee Mentia
WWA WORLD CHAMPION: (VACANT)
WWA TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS: The Munsen Brothers
WWA WOMEN'S CHAMPION: Dee Mentia
"Handsome" Jack Ransome: The Dirtiest Mind in the Business, the Platinum Playboy, the King of Rings, Handsome Jack has been the top draw in the Tri-State territories for years, winning multiple Championships all over the country. However, a freak injury that occurred during an unusually potent drug binge has left him on the sidelines, forcing him to abdicate his top spot in the company and vacate his title.
Danny "Golden Boy" Gilbert: Handsome Jack's protégé and the second-in-command of Jack's stable The Fortunate Four, 'Golden Boy' Gilbert is an obnoxious upstart pretty-boy whose presence assures that even despite Ransome's legendary status, the Four are hated heels. Backstage, he's known as an entitled prima dona who will go out of his way to make his opponents look bad.
The Red Menace: Actually an Irish-descended ex-bouncer from Boston named Kenny McKannen, the 350-lb "Russian" brawler is a reliable hand in the ring, but is dangerously nearsighted, which unfortunately means his signature clothesline 'The Hammering Sickle' is notoriously stiff.
Great Yamato: A real-life Judo champion from Osaka, Saito Shimura has struggled making a living as a wrestler in America, saddled with a 'mysterious Oriental' gimmick he personally finds insulting, but always seems to get a rise from the crowd.
'Radd' Ricky Razor: A fresh-faced rookie from Atlanta, the real-life Ricky Ramone is an enthusiastic but very sloppy high-flyer who's still in the middle of 'paying his dues.' He's also known backstage for being an obnoxious party-boy and a suck-up to the veterans.
Baron Shaka: An aging black wrestler from Chicago, Don Jackson is a respected journeyman wrestler who never quite made it big. Trying to adapt to the more outlandish characters of the 80s, he's adopted a 'Voodoo Priest' gimmick hoping to get over as a top heel.
The Munsen Brothers: Hank and Garth Munsen, the enforcers of the Fortunate Four both on-screen and behind the scenes. Infamous for taking liberties with people who step out of line, the Munsens' spike-piledriver finish has been known to legitimately hospitalize other wrestlers--though coincidentally such a 'botch' only ever seems to happen to people who cross them backstage.
The Jersey Wrecking Crew: Brad 'Bull' Dozier and Stan 'Steamroller' Sawyer, two old-school brawlers from Jersey City. They can't really talk and they can't really wrestle all that well, but they're big and look scary, and that's usually enough to get them on the card.
The Rotten Bunch: Robbie Rotten and Vick Vicious, two obnoxious punk-rocker heels from Manchester, England. In real life, the two hate each other's guts, and are known to get into frequent drunken brawls backstage.
Dee Mentia: Once the only female wrestler in the WWA, Dee fully commits to her 'psycho' gimmick, often going so far as actually biting and hair-pulling in the ring. Behind the scenes, Deedee Summers is known for being a genuine sweetheart, though it's rumored that she's having an affair with owner Sonny D'Angelo.
Vikki Valkyrie: Dee Mentia's arch rival, Vikki plays up her cartoonish Viking-woman gimmick to accent her chiseled physique. Originally a bodybuilder before stumbling into the wrestling business, Vickie Carlton is rather clumsy in the ring and rather naive behind the scenes.
Queen Kong: A large dark-skinned powerhouse of a woman, Queen Kong is known for throwing her opponents around like rag dolls. Kerri Harris is still fairly green, only getting into wrestling because it was nigh impossible for a large black woman to get any interesting roles as an actress.
MORE TO COME
IC and the first card is live, folks!
WHTC Recording Studio
Newark, New Jersey,
October, 1985
"Good evening, Mongoloids, this is the one and only Terry 'The Talk' Takowski, and I'm standing here with the man, the myth, the living legend himself, 'Handsome' Jack Ransome!"
"Ohhhhh baby, pinch yourself all you want, you ain't dreamin'! Handsome Jack is here!"
"Now, Mr. Ransome-- Jack, if I may-- I understand you're going to be taking some time off due to an unexpected injury. For those of you just tuning in, the leader of the Fortunate Four and the self-proclaimed Dirtiest Mind in the Business was attacked by a quartet of ex-Marines outside a night club in Atlantic City this past weekend, resulting in a torn quadricep."
"That's right, daddy, but you should've seen what I did to them! Now, Handsome Jack is gonna be on the bench for some time, and I can already hear the buzzards circling overhead, CAW-CAWWW! Every low-life, every Johnny-come-lately, every two-bit wannabe in the WWA locker room is already jockeying for position, trying to take my spot at the top of the heap. Everyone thinks that now that the Big Man is on the bench, they're gonna step up and replace me. But like every woman I've ever been with knows after going back to their low-class, work-a-day husbands: there ain't no replacing this smile, no replacing my style! I'm putting everyone in the Dubya-Dubya-A on notice: fight for the throne all you want, you're just keeping the seat warm for me, baby!"
"There you have it, Mongoloids, Handsome Jack may be down, but the King of Rings isn't out! In the meantime, who's going to step up to try and fill the void? Find out on the next episode of Monday Night Mayhem, coming to you live from the Brendan Byrne Arena, part of the Meadowlands Sports Complex in East Rutherford! Tickets available now, call the number at the bottom of your screen, and don't forget to tell 'em that Terry The Talk sent ya!"
"Aaaaaaand we're out."
"....we're clear?"
"Yeah, Sonny, we're clear."
*CRASSSSHHHHH!*
The sound of the small aluminum trash can being hurled against the wall resounded through the cramped studio, garbage flying out and spilling onto the floor.
"God damn it!" Sal 'Sonny' D'Angelo shouted, fuming as he paced across the room. "How the fuck are we supposed to fill up the Garden without our star act?"
"Look, Sonny, I'm real sorry about--"
"Shut the fuck up, Jack, I don't even wanna look at you right now," Sonny cut him off. "We've got ten weeks til Slam-A-Rama, ten weeks until the biggest card in the history of wrestling. And now I don't have a main event! And why is that? Because someone got high off their ass and tried to jump off the roof of their house, and got snagged on a railing on the way down! You're lucky I came up with that 'ambushed by a bunch of ex-Marines' shit; if people knew what really happened, you wouldn't be able to draw a dime again."
'Handsome' Jack Ransome, his body chiseled like a Michelangelo sculpture, dressed in an opulent rhinestone-and-sequined robe, his hair perfectly feathered platinum blonde, seemed all of three feet tall as the pudgy balding man berated him. Still holding the camera, his production assistant Seymour Schmidt did everything he could to blend into the background; he knew that when Sonny got into these moods, it was more than likely he would take out his anger on him.
"And Seymour!" Sonny turned, glaring at his scrawny cohort, "Would it kill you to hold the goddamn camera still?! We're shooting a wrestling show here, not filming the goddamn Sasquatch."
Seymour nodded meekly, avoiding eye contact to avoid invoking Sonny's wrath even further.
"Useless," He muttered, grumbling to himself and fumbling around his pockets for his cigarettes as he stormed out of the room.
Leaving a trail of cigarette smoke and obscenities behind him, Sonny D'Angelo marched with terrible purpose from the recording studio to the green room, where a dozen or so hulking brutes in colorful spandex costumes were waiting for him. In the back of his head, Sonny heard one of his older brothers cracking wise, saying this was the sort of thing he'd fantasize about, then dismissed it. His brothers were all scum, gangsters and killers.
Sonny? He was a showman. And as always, the show must go on.
"Gentlemen," he said, gesturing grandly and making a poor attempt to cover his seething anger, "Do you hear that?"
After a few seconds of silence, he made a fist and rapped hit three times, slowly and deliberately, against the green room door.
"That," he began, "is the sound of Opportunity knocking. As you all know, Handsome Jack got himself hurt. That means our top act is going to miss the super-card in the Garden. That means one of you is gonna be our new top act! We've got ten weeks to put on the biggest goddamn show the world's ever seen, and I'm keeping my eye out for our new star. So! Mayhem, this Monday in the Meadowlands. Here's what I'm thinking......."
D'Angelo charged over to the chalkboard displaying the station's recording schedule for the day, and hastily wiped it all away with his hand. Grabbing a piece of chalk, he started to scrawl out the card for the upcoming show:
"The studio's open the rest of the day to cut promos, so work it out amongst yourselves for camera-time. We're also gonna be runnin' some house shows in the Catskills this week to promote the show, so make sure you stay nice an' limber and don't do nothin' stupid to get yourselves hurt. If you don't see your name on the card, gimme somethin' on the mic or in the ring that makes me wanna add you to the show. Now have at it; I'm gonna go have another smoke."
With that, Sonny flicked the butt of his cigarette into a waste bin in the corner, then immediately produced a new one and lit it as he left the room.
Newark, New Jersey,
October, 1985
"Good evening, Mongoloids, this is the one and only Terry 'The Talk' Takowski, and I'm standing here with the man, the myth, the living legend himself, 'Handsome' Jack Ransome!"
"Ohhhhh baby, pinch yourself all you want, you ain't dreamin'! Handsome Jack is here!"
"Now, Mr. Ransome-- Jack, if I may-- I understand you're going to be taking some time off due to an unexpected injury. For those of you just tuning in, the leader of the Fortunate Four and the self-proclaimed Dirtiest Mind in the Business was attacked by a quartet of ex-Marines outside a night club in Atlantic City this past weekend, resulting in a torn quadricep."
"That's right, daddy, but you should've seen what I did to them! Now, Handsome Jack is gonna be on the bench for some time, and I can already hear the buzzards circling overhead, CAW-CAWWW! Every low-life, every Johnny-come-lately, every two-bit wannabe in the WWA locker room is already jockeying for position, trying to take my spot at the top of the heap. Everyone thinks that now that the Big Man is on the bench, they're gonna step up and replace me. But like every woman I've ever been with knows after going back to their low-class, work-a-day husbands: there ain't no replacing this smile, no replacing my style! I'm putting everyone in the Dubya-Dubya-A on notice: fight for the throne all you want, you're just keeping the seat warm for me, baby!"
"There you have it, Mongoloids, Handsome Jack may be down, but the King of Rings isn't out! In the meantime, who's going to step up to try and fill the void? Find out on the next episode of Monday Night Mayhem, coming to you live from the Brendan Byrne Arena, part of the Meadowlands Sports Complex in East Rutherford! Tickets available now, call the number at the bottom of your screen, and don't forget to tell 'em that Terry The Talk sent ya!"
"Aaaaaaand we're out."
"....we're clear?"
"Yeah, Sonny, we're clear."
*CRASSSSHHHHH!*
The sound of the small aluminum trash can being hurled against the wall resounded through the cramped studio, garbage flying out and spilling onto the floor.
"God damn it!" Sal 'Sonny' D'Angelo shouted, fuming as he paced across the room. "How the fuck are we supposed to fill up the Garden without our star act?"
"Look, Sonny, I'm real sorry about--"
"Shut the fuck up, Jack, I don't even wanna look at you right now," Sonny cut him off. "We've got ten weeks til Slam-A-Rama, ten weeks until the biggest card in the history of wrestling. And now I don't have a main event! And why is that? Because someone got high off their ass and tried to jump off the roof of their house, and got snagged on a railing on the way down! You're lucky I came up with that 'ambushed by a bunch of ex-Marines' shit; if people knew what really happened, you wouldn't be able to draw a dime again."
'Handsome' Jack Ransome, his body chiseled like a Michelangelo sculpture, dressed in an opulent rhinestone-and-sequined robe, his hair perfectly feathered platinum blonde, seemed all of three feet tall as the pudgy balding man berated him. Still holding the camera, his production assistant Seymour Schmidt did everything he could to blend into the background; he knew that when Sonny got into these moods, it was more than likely he would take out his anger on him.
"And Seymour!" Sonny turned, glaring at his scrawny cohort, "Would it kill you to hold the goddamn camera still?! We're shooting a wrestling show here, not filming the goddamn Sasquatch."
Seymour nodded meekly, avoiding eye contact to avoid invoking Sonny's wrath even further.
"Useless," He muttered, grumbling to himself and fumbling around his pockets for his cigarettes as he stormed out of the room.
Leaving a trail of cigarette smoke and obscenities behind him, Sonny D'Angelo marched with terrible purpose from the recording studio to the green room, where a dozen or so hulking brutes in colorful spandex costumes were waiting for him. In the back of his head, Sonny heard one of his older brothers cracking wise, saying this was the sort of thing he'd fantasize about, then dismissed it. His brothers were all scum, gangsters and killers.
Sonny? He was a showman. And as always, the show must go on.
"Gentlemen," he said, gesturing grandly and making a poor attempt to cover his seething anger, "Do you hear that?"
After a few seconds of silence, he made a fist and rapped hit three times, slowly and deliberately, against the green room door.
"That," he began, "is the sound of Opportunity knocking. As you all know, Handsome Jack got himself hurt. That means our top act is going to miss the super-card in the Garden. That means one of you is gonna be our new top act! We've got ten weeks to put on the biggest goddamn show the world's ever seen, and I'm keeping my eye out for our new star. So! Mayhem, this Monday in the Meadowlands. Here's what I'm thinking......."
D'Angelo charged over to the chalkboard displaying the station's recording schedule for the day, and hastily wiped it all away with his hand. Grabbing a piece of chalk, he started to scrawl out the card for the upcoming show:
BILLY BRICE
VS
THE RED MENACE
'RADD' RICKY RAZOR
VS
GERALD SHAW
TAG TEAM MATCH:
THE PRIDE
VS
THE JERSEY WRECKING CREW
VS
THE RED MENACE
'RADD' RICKY RAZOR
VS
GERALD SHAW
TAG TEAM MATCH:
THE PRIDE
VS
THE JERSEY WRECKING CREW
"The studio's open the rest of the day to cut promos, so work it out amongst yourselves for camera-time. We're also gonna be runnin' some house shows in the Catskills this week to promote the show, so make sure you stay nice an' limber and don't do nothin' stupid to get yourselves hurt. If you don't see your name on the card, gimme somethin' on the mic or in the ring that makes me wanna add you to the show. Now have at it; I'm gonna go have another smoke."
With that, Sonny flicked the butt of his cigarette into a waste bin in the corner, then immediately produced a new one and lit it as he left the room.
Sorry for the slow response-- the changes to the CS are fine. Also sorry for not doing write-ups for the NPCs/jobbers yet; real life's been a bit of a bear the past couple of days.
Planning on having the first card for Mayhem posted and IC going live on Tuesday.
Planning on having the first card for Mayhem posted and IC going live on Tuesday.
I like what I see from Gerald Shaw, so I'm gonna go ahead and approve it. Gonna do a collective CS for the various NPCs in the WWA locker room next, which should be up hopefully tomorrow.
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