Post by Jaice Wilds on Feb 9, 2020 21:49:00 GMT -5
Welp… I'm just coming off being sick for the first time in 30 years. So… my brain is still a bit wonky, and I'm hoping that I can assemble a mildly decent rp because I'm teamed w ZMac and it's kind of a big thing that I might be able to pull a W with his name on the same match. So… here's a thing. Hope it's decent. And if not, well, just reading this part is, like, 3 minutes of your life that you'll never get back. So who really just lost this one? Yeah. Yeeeeaaaaaahh. Okay, here's an rp.
-----------------------------------------
The following is a letter addressed to Jason Ryan and Eli Beazley; intercepted and published to the Alpha Pro Wrestling website.
Not gonna lie, fellas. This week? Kind of a dream match for me. I mean, I've stood opposite the ring from ZMac on multiple occasions, and the man has been nothing less than a titan every time. So to be able to tag up with him this week… kind of a big deal to me.
Don't get me wrong; while I have all the respect in the world for McMorris, the lunatic couldn't give a shit less about me. Despite the fact that I've battled him nearly a dozen times and even took him to his limits in a UCI Television Title match that ended in a draw…
In any case. The one thing he and I do have in common is the will to survive. So, while both sides of this match are mildly dysfunctional, at least my side has the ability to put our differences aside to garner a victory.
Sorry, Breezy. I know you were looking forward to a mildly even match-up with some great contenders. It sickens me that the man you've been paired up with is a worthless sack of monkey shit, and by all rights intends to abandon you before you even get to the part where you need a hand. I was watching your match last week and I gotta hand it to ya; you're a great performer. It's honestly a shame that you're being handed a loss solely on who your partner is. I'll give you the best consolation prize I can offer, Beaz: next week, I'd like to challenge you to a singles match. A spotlight to really shine under, get your name seen in lights. I've been in this business long enough to know potential when I see it; and you, my friend, have it in spades.
For what it's worth; I've been trying to strategize with ZMAC about how to get your partner involved this week. Make sure you aren't left in there alone like a goldfish in a shark tank. Unfortunately, he has this whole thing where he only responds with memes. So I honestly am having trouble making heads or tails of whatever he's texting me back. And I'm not trying to call him again; wherever he's at sounds like a train wreck at a carnival… all noise, zero sense. So… I dunno. We'll see.
As far as Admiral Assmunch is concerned… Jason, I told you on social media: I'm a walking, talking legend in this business. My longevity alone puts me in a league you could only hope to one day be a part of. The fact that you insist on being a front-runner in the business without having done jack shit to earn it… I've seen it. And I'm not impressed.
You think attacking a non-performing member of the crew is the way to assert yourself in APW? Boy; what you pulled was the equivalent of smacking around a toddler and demanding to be the college senior president. Doesn't work that way, son; you're a talentless sack of fuck all and you've done is cement yourself as riff-raff in a federation that doesn't need you.
Let me lay down the facts, bruv. I already talked to Irina. She's going to set me up with you again, one-on-one, at a future date. And I know; you're going to sit ringside or stay in the locker room or some shit. But apparently, Miss Ivanova has some more interesting news that deals with your level of participation in our match. So I'd maybe try to get off your ass and do something so you can figure out what you're up against.
For now, I offer you this. Zombie and I will be using this match as little more than the opportunity to smack around an undeserving loser and his unfortunate partner. And we'll have so much fun doing it. Because we just like hurting people. So, until Metal; enjoy your last few moments of control over your own faculties. It will be awhile before you regain consciousness, let alone anything else. Later, fellas.
-----------------------------------------
Jaice stands in front of a camera, adjusting the lens and taking a step back.
Jaice Wilds:
Is this thing on? What's the manual… red light signifies recording… where's the- oh, there. Okay, it's on. Shit; it's already recording. Okay, I'll just back up real quick…
Wilds takes a few steps back, taking a seat on a bar stool. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, a deep breath.
Jaice Wilds:
Okay, so, seriously. This little fucknut is going to go on social media and straight ignore his partner's attempts to befriend him. Not only that, but the asswipe has announced that he's ducking the match altogether to play commentary? The fuck is this douche yacht thinking he is? What a tool. And this is the dick who wants a World Title opportunity. Boy, you can have a World Championship match when you can pry it from my ass, you fucking bitch. I'll tell you this; I don't know what Ms Ivanova has planned; but I will make it my personal mission to keep you away from the Heavyweight Title scene until you've proved yourself. I don't care if I have to jump into a match between you and Smitty and superkick his teeth in to ensure he retains.
Bottom line; until you've earned your spot on the roster, my soul mission is to make you my personal bitch. So enjoy sitting on the sidelines this week, if that's what you choose. It's not going to get you any closer to what you want.
Wilds flips the bird, shaking his head. He stands, walking over to shut off the camera.
Jaice Wilds:
So I just… that button, or… what's this do? Acid? Nice. Should have used that filter. Shit, the light's still on. Uhm… I think it's this one?... nope, light is still red. Maybe this…
...static…
-----------------------------------------
The following is a letter addressed to Jason Ryan and Eli Beazley; intercepted and published to the Alpha Pro Wrestling website.
Not gonna lie, fellas. This week? Kind of a dream match for me. I mean, I've stood opposite the ring from ZMac on multiple occasions, and the man has been nothing less than a titan every time. So to be able to tag up with him this week… kind of a big deal to me.
Don't get me wrong; while I have all the respect in the world for McMorris, the lunatic couldn't give a shit less about me. Despite the fact that I've battled him nearly a dozen times and even took him to his limits in a UCI Television Title match that ended in a draw…
In any case. The one thing he and I do have in common is the will to survive. So, while both sides of this match are mildly dysfunctional, at least my side has the ability to put our differences aside to garner a victory.
Sorry, Breezy. I know you were looking forward to a mildly even match-up with some great contenders. It sickens me that the man you've been paired up with is a worthless sack of monkey shit, and by all rights intends to abandon you before you even get to the part where you need a hand. I was watching your match last week and I gotta hand it to ya; you're a great performer. It's honestly a shame that you're being handed a loss solely on who your partner is. I'll give you the best consolation prize I can offer, Beaz: next week, I'd like to challenge you to a singles match. A spotlight to really shine under, get your name seen in lights. I've been in this business long enough to know potential when I see it; and you, my friend, have it in spades.
For what it's worth; I've been trying to strategize with ZMAC about how to get your partner involved this week. Make sure you aren't left in there alone like a goldfish in a shark tank. Unfortunately, he has this whole thing where he only responds with memes. So I honestly am having trouble making heads or tails of whatever he's texting me back. And I'm not trying to call him again; wherever he's at sounds like a train wreck at a carnival… all noise, zero sense. So… I dunno. We'll see.
As far as Admiral Assmunch is concerned… Jason, I told you on social media: I'm a walking, talking legend in this business. My longevity alone puts me in a league you could only hope to one day be a part of. The fact that you insist on being a front-runner in the business without having done jack shit to earn it… I've seen it. And I'm not impressed.
You think attacking a non-performing member of the crew is the way to assert yourself in APW? Boy; what you pulled was the equivalent of smacking around a toddler and demanding to be the college senior president. Doesn't work that way, son; you're a talentless sack of fuck all and you've done is cement yourself as riff-raff in a federation that doesn't need you.
Let me lay down the facts, bruv. I already talked to Irina. She's going to set me up with you again, one-on-one, at a future date. And I know; you're going to sit ringside or stay in the locker room or some shit. But apparently, Miss Ivanova has some more interesting news that deals with your level of participation in our match. So I'd maybe try to get off your ass and do something so you can figure out what you're up against.
For now, I offer you this. Zombie and I will be using this match as little more than the opportunity to smack around an undeserving loser and his unfortunate partner. And we'll have so much fun doing it. Because we just like hurting people. So, until Metal; enjoy your last few moments of control over your own faculties. It will be awhile before you regain consciousness, let alone anything else. Later, fellas.
-----------------------------------------
Jaice stands in front of a camera, adjusting the lens and taking a step back.
Jaice Wilds:
Is this thing on? What's the manual… red light signifies recording… where's the- oh, there. Okay, it's on. Shit; it's already recording. Okay, I'll just back up real quick…
Wilds takes a few steps back, taking a seat on a bar stool. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, a deep breath.
Jaice Wilds:
Okay, so, seriously. This little fucknut is going to go on social media and straight ignore his partner's attempts to befriend him. Not only that, but the asswipe has announced that he's ducking the match altogether to play commentary? The fuck is this douche yacht thinking he is? What a tool. And this is the dick who wants a World Title opportunity. Boy, you can have a World Championship match when you can pry it from my ass, you fucking bitch. I'll tell you this; I don't know what Ms Ivanova has planned; but I will make it my personal mission to keep you away from the Heavyweight Title scene until you've proved yourself. I don't care if I have to jump into a match between you and Smitty and superkick his teeth in to ensure he retains.
Bottom line; until you've earned your spot on the roster, my soul mission is to make you my personal bitch. So enjoy sitting on the sidelines this week, if that's what you choose. It's not going to get you any closer to what you want.
Wilds flips the bird, shaking his head. He stands, walking over to shut off the camera.
Jaice Wilds:
So I just… that button, or… what's this do? Acid? Nice. Should have used that filter. Shit, the light's still on. Uhm… I think it's this one?... nope, light is still red. Maybe this…
...static…
