Warriors of Syracuse Wrestling [Part 2]

Warriors of Syracuse Wrestling [Part 2]

Post by Kev B4 » Mon, 08 Jun 1998 04:00:00

=/\\ ====//| ==========================
 /               \     \      /          /_____|     Interview with
 |    ||     |      \/\/         //                 "Constrictor" Chris
Copeland
 |    |___|     |                   /  \                  
 \               /\        _       /     |
=\_______/ =\___/=\___/=\_______| ==========================

(Scene: Fade in, to the Rave. Specifically? Backstage, in one of the rooms. An
empty and dirty room, the camera pans around the marked white walls, to the
center of the room, where the main event opponent, "the Constrictor"
Christopher
Copeland sits. He's in his standard black trunks, black boots, and has a unique
feature on his body. An eyepatch over the red eye of his. Chris sits in front
of a
heater, which is giving off large amounts of heats towards his back. Copeland
is
perspiring very little, but his back is a shade darker than his original
complexion.
His other eye is closed, and it opens, as he begins to speak...)

     Now, I _know_ you're thinking that Chris Copeland is _crazy_ in
     the head. He's in front of a HEATER, just before his big match
     at the Rave. What in the hell is my problem? [licks his lips in a
     snakelike way] _Abosolutely nothing_. I don't think I'm a snake
     at all. It's a style I learned. If the people in this world learned to
     accept different styles and formats, then you'd think I was doing
     my own thing. Which, according to your standards, is normal as
     anything. Why do rules have to be different for me, and the same
     for the rest of the corrupt society? I'm not omniscient god of the
     earth, but I'd say it's not fair.

     But, life's not fair. You've gotta live _against_ the policy.

(Copeland pauses, ponders, and speaks again.)

     Just like "the Movie Critic" Roman Cartier is living against the
     fameless and shameful. Because they don't drive two ninety
     C class Mercedes Benzes, _because_ of the fact that they'll
     go to Friedman's or Kay Jewelers to buy diamonds, makes
     them an "act"; a "stooge". If _that_ is the case, then I'm at a
     low peak in my life, other than _not_ being accepted. I mean,
     my Mercedes might be a little older, and I might choose NOT
     to wear jewels, but I have the skills that people hold up to be
     a power in the United States, and the world.

     To get accepted for my material possessions, Roman, is a
     piece of heaping bullshit. I don't come forth for that. I come,
     in a search of inner acceptance. For people to respect the
     nice Syracuse kid that hurts no one, or nobody, unless he
     is either ay, wrestling, or bee, threatened. This case, I will
     call both, for the simple fact that you can't accept me from
     the inside, or the outside. I wouldn't exactly call it hurting
     somebody, but teaching a lesson in a stylistic way. You're
     gonna learn about [hiss] Chris Copeland, _the_ self-named
     Constrictor. It would be easier upon me, you, America, and
     the universe ... if you just accepted me as a _person_.

(Chris repositions himself on the floor, and does so -- in a smooth, flowing
step
or two, as he is now lying down; with his legs staning straight into the air.
He
sneers, and continues.)

     Besides, you don't accept the rock ***s, and you know
     what I mean, and the alternative dressers, for what they do
     or wear, but it seems as if you can desecrate a person for
     a birth defect; or even a birthmark, of all things. That's a big
     wrong, needing to be righted. And it all can start within the
     three slaps of the mat. One. Two. Three. Just as plain and
     simple as that. Or, it could be _you_ tapping out. Haven't
     thought about that.

     To quote a famous commercial ... "Hey, it could happen."

     And it very well could, in just a few ticks of the clock. To
     you, Roman Cartier, I'm just an extra in your 'film'. But,
     I'll be the snake to ruin it all. The black snake, to ruin it
     _all_. Snakes are usually _stars_, too. So, I guess that
     I'll "constrict" this "picture perfect" production, and turn
     it into my _OWN_.

     Does Red Eyes, Incorporated sound good? [pauses] I
     thought so.

(As he rolls around now, he sits up, facing the scorching heat of the heater.
He
doesn't seem to mind though, as he looks around, hisses softly in enjoyment
of the heat, and wiggles his feet to soak in the rays of heat.)

     Looking into the future, Roman, l see something bleak
     about you. You _still_ won't learn to accept me, and l
     still won't learn how to stop kicking the hell out of your
     ass to teach you. Why is it, Roman? I just want to be
     accepted. To make me feel like I'm a part of Orangemen
     Wrestling Commision. It's not fair to anybody, that I'll
     have to punish you, to be accepted. It should be for a
     competitive environment, and a competitive surrounding
     only.

     But, like I said ... [sighs, and hisses] People take it
     personally, and deeply. That's where they want the
     prize in it all. The titles. Me? It'd be nice, but with all
     the disrespect that I'm getting, and all of the hate on
     me, l wouldn't even imagine, or deem it possible for
     myself to become of that caliber here. It's something
     I don't dream of, until I get the respect I deserve. l'll
     get it eventually, or l'll take it by force.

(Copeland slithers up, and walks off, tanner than he was, but a little more
relaxed.)

     Like always, Roman, movies aren't the key to life ...

(Chris***s his tounge out, his mouth wide open. His canines are a pure white,
and are curved with a sharp end. The rest of his teeth are white.)

     Hey, but if you want, I can say ...

     Lights -- camera -- _VENOM_. And what do you have
     to say?

(Blackout.)

=/\\ ====//| ==========================
 /               \     \      /          /_____|     Singles Competition
 |    ||     |      \/\/         //                 Ryan Justice versus the
Candyman
 |    |___|     |                   /  \                  Written by Anthony
Brigano
 \               /\        _       /     |
=\_______/ =\___/=\___/=\_______| ==========================

NATHAN LIOTTA - Hello, everybody, and welcome back to this great edition of
OWC's Warriors of Syracuse wrestling.  Thusfar, this show has been completely
action packed and wonderful.  We're proud to be here in 'the Rave' in Syracuse,
New York.  What about it, Nate?

MAX FEMMIA - To be honest, I'm still anticipating Copeland vs. Cartier to think
about anything else.  Those two are just so evenly matched, it's going to be
great to see one of them come out on top, tonight.  I love those guys!

NATHAN LIOTTA - That's good to hear.  But right now, Nate, I'm sorry ... but
I'm going to have to go find something to do because _you_ have the announcing
duties for this next matchup, not me!

MAX FEMMIA - What?!  That's not far, damnit.  What's going on here?  You get to
take a break _already_, and I have to sit through another debacle of a matchup?
 Come on, Nate!

NATHAN LIOTTA - Calm down!  We're giving you a broadcast partner to help you
along with the duties of this one.

MAX FEMMIA - Who?

["Hits From The Bong" by Cypress Hill hit thes the PA as the tough Texan
"Crackhead" John Roy steps out into the aisle and raises his arms.  The crowd
boos loudly.  He makes his way up to the broadcast position and has a seat next
to Max Femmia.  "Crack***" Suzie Graham looms somewhere in the backround.]

"CRACKHEAD" JOHN ROY - I ain't never dun' no' broadcastin' duties before.  I'm
kinda e***d, here a bit an' tad', ya' see?  Tha' good ole' "Crackhead" is
used ta' just bein' in tha' ring himself', ya' know?

NATHAN LIOTTA - Well, that's my cue to get going.  [whispering]  This guy reaks
of pot. [speaking]  Nice to meet you, "Crackhead"!  Have a good time, Max!

MAX FEMMIA - Later, Nate.  [grumbling]  In any event, John, this next matchup
should be incredible.

JOHN ROY - Well whose fightin'?

MAX FEMMIA - We've got a one on one matchup that may turn into a brawl as two
power wrestlers CandyMan and "Suicide Machine" Ryan Justice are going to go at
it.  The guys are sick, John.

JOHN ROY - Sick like hay feva' sick?  Or sick like stab ya' in tha' neck sick?

MAX FEMMIA - [grin]  Sick like ... stab you in the neck, sick.  Anyways, folks,
lets get down to the ring and get this matchup started.  Ring announcer Michael
Morgan, take it away!

MICHAEL MORGAN - The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is the
_second_ encounter in OWC history!  [pop]

["Lollipop" by Aqua hits the PA and the crowd begins to cheer.  CandyMan steps
out into the aisle.]

MICHAEL MORGAN - Introducing first, weighing in at 313 lbs, hailing from
CandyLand, with his valet CandyFloss, here is ... CANDYMAN !!!

[The crowd continues to pop.  The 6'10" CandyMan makes his way down the aisle
with a huge candycane in his right hand.  Behind hin, CandyFloss hands out
candy from a bag full of treats, which she carries.  He wears red and white
trunks to the ring which are stripped and have candy canes across both the left
and right side of the trunks, also a shirt which has a candy cane on the front
and the words 'Sweet' on the back of it which he takes off before he wrestlers.
 He wears gloves one which is red and one which is white, to represent the
colour of candy.]

MAX FEMMIA - What the hell is this?  Tell me, what this _hell_ is it?  This is
what I've got to broadcast while Nate is walking around on the streets
somewhere?  Where's the justice?

JOHN ROY - I beleive he's comin' out next, son.

MICHAEL MORGAN - And his opponent ...

[CandyMan climbs up into the ring. His theme song fades out.  "Breed" by
Nirvana begins to play over the PA system and then the lights go off.  A single
green light flashes the entryway and Ryan Justice comes into focus with the
light.]

MICHAEL MORGAN - He weighs in at 298 lbs and hails from Tampa Bay, Florida ...
here is "the Suicide Machine" RYAN JUSTICE !!!

[Ryan Justice continues to walk to ringside.  He walks to and into the ring and
he climbs the turnbuckles and pumps his fists to the crowd, they boo wildly.
He has a muscular build ... long black hair which is tied back ... and he has a
scar above his eye from the burning of his face ... he also has some knife
marks on his arm from street fights he used to be involved with ...  He wears a
green tight t-shirt, black sweatpants with the word "Suicide" running down the
left leg and "Machine" running down the right side ... both words are in
white.]

MAX FEMMIA - Now here's a guy that the fans should be cheering.  He's sick,
he's got problems, he's ***, he does ***.  Why in the world would anybody
boo this man?  And here they are cheering a guy with a candycane.

JOHN ROY - Are we allowed' ta' smoke rock here at tha' broadcast location?

MAX FEMMIA - We're not allowed to smoke crack *** _anywhere_.  It's against
the law in all 50 of the United States of America.  I hate the burst your
bubble.

JOHN ROY - Alright, I knew that already anyway, I swear to ya'.

MAX FEMMIA - The two powerhouses both walk to the center of the ring.  They're
face to face.  CandyMan the bigger of the two, he weighs in at 313 lbs.  A 15
pound weight advantage over the much cooler Ryan Justice.  These guys are nose
to nose!

JOHN ROY - I wonda' whose' breath smells worse.

MAX FEMMIA - John, are you alright?  CandyMan with a quick sucker side-knee to
the stomach.  And CandyMan  hits him again with it.  CandyMan shoves him
against the ropes and whips him to the otherside.  Big flying forearm by
CandyMan takes Justice down to the mat!

JOHN ROY - Very agile fer' a big mang.  Didja' see how high he done jumped fer
that one?  Las' time I saw someone jump like that was when I lit a match under
Suzie's skirt'.

MAX FEMMIA - [shakes his head 'no']  Ack!  Fried fish, I guess.  CandyMan does
the smart thing and follows it up with a _big_ high elbowdrop.  CandyMan and
Justice back to their feet again and CandyMan nails a few right hands.
CandyMan whips him into the corner!  CandyMan follows it up, now, with a big
avelanch!

JOHN ROY - The man jus' sqaushed' the otha' man, right there.  Nice way ta'
knock' tha' wind outta somebody, I reckon.

MAX FEMMIA - Good point.  CandyMan, now, hip tosses the big guy out of the
corner and to the center of the ring.  Justice down.  CandyMan hits the ropes
... big splash!  One!  Two!  Big kickout by Ryan Justice.  Way too soon for a
quick win like that.

JOHN ROY - It was a good splash, that there.  Not enough, though.  Not nearla'
enough.

MAX FEMMIA - CandyMan pulls him up again --

JOHN ROY - Suzie, you wanna' try this here'?

MAX FEMMIA - And hooks him up in a bearhug position --

"CRACK***" SUZIE GRAHAM -  Now what?

JOHN ROY - Jus' talk.

MAX FEMMIA - Great belly-to-belly suplex by CandyMan --

SUZIE GRAHAM - 'Bout what?

JOHN ROY - Those rasslers' up there er' somethin'.

MAX FEMMIA - On his equally sized opponent.

SUZIE GRAHAM - So _that's_ where we are.

MAX FEMMIA - Would you two quiet the hell down!?  CandyMan goes back on the
offensive and he shoves him into the corner.  A few quick reverse knife edge
chops by CandyMan.  He whips Justice to the other corner now and Justice hits
hard!  CandyMan follows it up with an avelanch _again_!

SUZIE GRAHAM - Hey, what's up?  Are we allowed to smoke some crack up here?

MAX FEMMIA - Ack!  Shut up!  CandyMan hits the ropes ... he goes for a bulldog
... Justice counters with a nice back suplex!  And now he jumps on top of
CandyMan and begins to ***him out!  The referee's trying to pull him off,
but Justice is a man possessed!

SUZIE GRAHAM - I met a man possessed once.  He drooled alot.  He lived on the
corner of --

MAX FEMMIA - Justice and CandyMan back up, and Justice clotheslines him over
the top rope and to the floor!  Both men on the outside.  Justice walking over
to Michael Morgan's table to get a chair, I beleive.  CandyMan right behind
him.

SUZIE GRAHAM - What does he need a chair for.  What's he gonna sit down in the
middle of a wrestling match?

MAX FEMMIA - Justice grabs the chair, he turns around and ... [CLANK] CandyMan
dropkicks it into his face!  Justice hits the mats hard.  CandyMan is a BIG man
to be throwing a dropkick!  Justice falls right on top of the table!  And he's
holding his face!  This crowd is on their feet!

SUZIE GRAHAM - No they're not.  They're all sitting down leaning on their arms
waiting for this shit to end.

MAX FEMMIA - Shh!  CandyMan hops up onto the ring apron, and jumps off with
[CRASH] a _flying elbow_ through that table!  Sweet Jesus!  He just crushed
Ryan Justice and that could end a career easily.  Damnit all, get up, Justice!
Kick his ass!

SUZIE GRAHAM - Okay, I'll admitt that looked pretty coo --

JOHN ROY - Gimme' that dern thing damnit.  Sittin' here aughta kill me doin'
nothin' like that'.  That there's how a man could git bored ta' unconciousness,
sittin' there watchin this junk.  Shit, these fans aughta sue OWC fer promotin'
this garbage.

MAX FEMMIA - Don't worry, it'll be cool when Justice starts kicking this guy's
CandyAss.  Justice, now, rolled into the ring.  He's laying there on his back
drooling.  CandyMan climbs into the ring, bounces off the ropes ... and hits a
huge legdrop!  Cover!  One!  Two! And --

JOHN ROY - Hell naw!  I reckon' this here match ain't gonna end with a simple
lil' legdrop.  I reckon these here two er gonna run 'round lookin' like fools
fer 10 minutes, first.  Max, you got' any pot?

MAX FEMMIA - No, most certainly not, John.  But if I did, I'd share it with
you.  Anyways, CandyMan pulls him up again and -- ooh!  Low blow by Ryan
Justice!  He stands up, CandyMan is slumped over ... quick DDT!  Cover!  One!
Two!  

JOHN ROY - Close but no cigar!  That one was a lil' bit closer.  This here
Justice guy surely knows how ta' throw a DDT.  Hell, it ain't any better than
my cousin Brock Carden's Cattlebuster DDT, but it's still a good DDT anyways,
ain't it?

MAX FEMMIA - Indeed, it was a DDT and a half.  Ryan gets up slowly, CandyMan
shortly thereafter.  Ryan Justice grabs him and hits a _nice_ German suplex!
One!  Two!  No!  Almost!  Ryan back up.  He grabs CandyMan and puts him in a
quick side headlock.

JOHN ROY - An' now that there CandyBoy is tryin' ta' lift'em up fer a back
suplex, but it just ain't happenin', I reckon.

MAX FEMMIA - No, it certainly isn't.  But CandyMan is able to send Justice into
the ropes.  Justice off the other side ... CandyMan hits a nice jumping
shoulderblock!  What a shouldertackle!  CandyMan scoops him up and _slams him_
down to the mat.  Elbowdrop!  He's pouring it on.

JOHN ROY - Yep, he's pourin' it on like my mama's gravy, you bet.

MAX FEMMIA - And now CandyMan is going up to the top rope!  He's going to go
for a moonsault, it looks like!  Is he crazy?  He weighs about 320 pounds, and
he's going to try to hit a moonsualt.  The first moonsault in OWC history.
[grin]

JOHN ROY - He's jus' kinda standin' up there.  

MAX FEMMIA - He sure is.  He jumps ... NO!  Ryan Justice moves out of the way!
Good god!  CandyMan may have just ended the night for himself!  Justice getting
up slowly.  He pulls CandyMan up ... SUICIDE MISSION BY JUSTICE!  ONE!  TWO!
THREE! FORGET ABOUT IT!

[ding, ding, ding]

JOHN ROY - Jus' like that?

[The crowd boos.]

MAX FEMMIA - Just like that!  By the way, don't you have a match to prepare
for?

JOHN ROY - Match .. perpare ... oh yeah!  I almos' fergot', thanks there son.
I'd better git goin' than.

MICHAEL MORGAN - The winner of this contest, "Suicide Machine" Ryan Justice!
[boo!]

MAX FEMMIA - We'll be back after this ...

[fade]

=============================
Max Femmia, Nathan Liotta, Carson Bordon
and all related names, characters and their
likenesses are copyright and trademark
Kevin Riley Productions (KRP) 1998.
=============================