Wayne McGurk Felo-de-se RP: Star

Wayne McGurk Felo-de-se RP: Star

Wayne McGurk vs JM "Rampage" Enola

JM and McGurk lock together in a tie-up; McGurk battles off and nails JM with a Polish Hammer across the jam, JM drops to his knees. McGurk moves towards JM, but JM cathces McGurk's arm and sends him down with an arm-drag and quickly locks McGurk inside an arm-lock. McGurk fights back with elbows; JM tightens the hold. Wayne pushes himself upwright, sending him off the mat; JM hoisted upon his shoulders. Wayne goes for an airplane spin and sends JM down with a Samoan Drop. Wayne takes JM, but JM traps him inside a LaMagistal.

1...

2... McGurk escapes the hold. Both men gain ground. JM goes for the clothesline, but McGurk ducks the clothesline, traps and drives JM with a German suplex; JM reverses the German and chrages towards McGurk with a bulldog, but Wayne catches him and quickly drops him with a Blister City Slam; JM counters with a ddt, McGurk quickly catches JM and counters the ddt and captures JM in a Vertical Suplex, but JM manages to wriggle himself free. JM goes for the Roundhouse-misses; McGurk with the bigboot-misses. McGurks goes for a right hook, JM ducks and goes for a snap jab, but McGurk catches it and sends JM into the ropes. McGurk catches him; JM locks on a reverse headlock. Wayne slams JM down with a spinebuster; JM uses the moment to hit a ddt. Both men lay motionless in the middle of the ring.

Bith men rise; McGurk knocks Enola down with a solid right across the jaw. JM stagers over; McGurk explodes into him with a viocous clothesline sending JM flying into the mat. McGurk paces backwards, hits the ropes and crashes into JM's chest with a stage-dive-like headbutt. McGurk covers him.

1...

2... JM kicks out. McGurk takes JM and locks him into a seated modification of the full nelson; driving his knee into JM's spine. JM takes a fistfull of McGurk's hair; Wayne tightens the full nelson. JM tightens the grab and yanks violently; MCGurk shoots the knee into JM's back once again. JM refuses to give in: Wayne rises and slams JM with a dragon suplex; rolls over and locks the full nelson once again. JM continues to refuse to submission and the referee withdraws McGurk from the hold. Wayne takes JM and drops him with a powerbomb, but JM reverses and takes McGurk down with a hurricanrana. Wayne charges towards Enola, and JM explodes into McGurk with a pelorah of punches. McGurk shoves Enola off, JM returns with a dropkick. Wayne stagges slightly; JM flies of the ropes with a forarm smash; McGurk quickly hits the big boot, stoping JM in his path. JM rises slowly and spots McGurk perteched on the top rope. JM quicly leaps into the second rope and springboards into the McGurk with a flying clothesline, knocking both men off the top rope and into the outside. The fans explode.
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Enola gains ground fast; McGurl leans on the security rail. Enola pushes Phoenix away and charges towards McGurk, and Wayne catches JM and hits him with a hiptoss sending JM down onto the protective black mats on the ground. McGurk returns to the ring and clips JM by the hair. JM leaps onto the apron and nails McGurk with a low roundhouse. McGurk drops to the mat; JM leaps over the ropes, takes air and drops into McGurk with a splash. JM covers him.

1...

2... McGurk kicks out. JM dashes into the ropes, McGurk slowly begins to rise and catches Enola with a fly-swatter. McGurk hoists JM high and takes him down with a Dean End; breaking him into the mat. McGurk hooks the leg.

1...

2... JM kicks out. McGurk takes JM by the throat, but JM traps him inside a a triangle choke. McGurk hoists him off the ground and slams him with a modified powerbomb, but JM refuses to release the hold. McGurk hoists JM off the mat once again; JM modifies the traingle choke into a flying head sisscor, drops, and modifies the hold into a crossface and is met by a standing ovation from the crowd. McGurk refuses to submit and JM is forced to withdraw from the hold. McGurk rolls out of the ring and JM takes the air and dives into McGurk with a plancha-misses, and lands on both feet; McGurk charges towards JM and nails him with a running snap ddt. McGurk takes JM and shoves him back into the ring. McGurk slams JM with a jackinfe powerbomb and ascends the top rope. JM stands and shoves his body into the ropes and McGurk drops into the turnbuckle groin first. JM motions towards the toprope and hooks McGurk for a superplex, but McGurk battles back. Both men exchange punches.McGurk takes JM by the throat. JM tries to battle out of it, but to no avail. McGurk nails JM with a vicous elbow and sends JM to the mat with a flying chokeslam from the top rope. JM convulses on the mat. McGurk stalks his opponent, JM slowy returns to the vertical base, McGurk charges foward with a big boot; Enola ducks it, picks McGurk for a Death Valley Driver. McGurk wiggles free, and quickly takes JM and breaks him with an unforgiving Blister City Slam. McGurk, hooks the leg for the victory.

1...

2...

3...

The Winner: Wayne McGurk

"Voodoo WhoDo?" resounds around the arena. McGurk stands over JM on both knees, as the referee raises his arms in victory. Wayne motions towards JM and reaches his hand out for a handshake, and JM accepts. Both men recive a standing ovation from the audience.

*

WAYNE HYPEREXTENDED HIS shoulder when he took down Rampage with the Blister City Slam- dislocating his shoulder; the man was hurting. For the past month or so, he'd wake up in pain. Inside, screaming in agony; keeping the brave face. Inside, pondering his every move; he had to live. Inside, yearning for the time, yearing to push his body and mind even more further; the world was too fast for him. He saw the dislocated shoulder as a sign that he was catching up with whatever time he'd lost outside of the ring.

The man never stopped. The company went on break after Crimson Existence; everyone had a couple good weeks off. All except Wayne. He spent the rest of the week touring Japan; walked away from the tour with an extra twenty-five hundred (half of which went to expenses).Vanessa left back ahead, missed Scarlet too much. He remebered that night before he left back for home. Just like tonight, the man was lying curled up in the locker room. That night he wasn't rushing; he left the world where it was.

Those ing Japs!
He complained.

Should've left with the rest of us.
She loved being right. Wayne knew it, but didn't give it an extra thought of attention.
What did you have to go through this time?
Her little voice lagging along; albiet bored, as if she knew what to expect.

Wayne respects the Japanese for their wrestling. Given that, he gave into everything they threw at him. Ten years ago, Wayne came down and particepated in an Exploding Anal Match; he lost... Couldn't crapright for an entire week.

Nothing that bad this time around...

No?

It was a Barbed Wire Colar-Endurance Match; the name says it all. God, you can tell them to replace the ropes with ing Barbie dolls and they'll ing do it. They'll do anything once and they ain't afraid, and that's something I've got to hand to them.

Why'd you do it?

What?

Why'd you do it?
She got him.

Wayne rose from the bench and motioned towards a mirror. He looked across into his reflection. He looked into his eyes; so familiar. Yet, he couldn't recognize his face. He looked at himself again; looked at the face everyone saw but him. He knew who it was, he just could not understand why he couldn't seem to place it right now; foreign.

Why'd you do it, man?
He asked the face.

I like it; that simple.
It replied.

Wayne turned away and headed towards his locker; his shoulder barely hanging on. He was still waiting for the on-call doctor to pop it back in place. Wayne opened his locker, took a razo blade, and shut it closed. He motioned back to the mirror and looked at himself yet again.

All eyes look up to me; everyone everywhere keep me in their sights. Is it not enough that I feed them what they want week after week after week; why must they follow me wherever I go? It's ironic that a year ago I was the forgetable outcast; flash foward to a year later, I'm the man they can't ignore. For my own good, I've humbly denied it. Eventually, there's no way for me to ignore it. The world was moving on and I had to accept it.

I don't stop. I can't- theres just no way I can allow it. I'm tired every single damn day, but I just have to take into consideration that there's just nowhere else for me to go but up; I'm no handicap, so there's no excuse at all. I must sucumb once again to the level of preformance that is expected from me. Every plateau I reach meets me with admiration among my peers aswell as the stress of pushing myself yet again to that level everytime I step between the ropes. I'm the predictable fighter; no one know's what'll I do next. And to be honset, neither do I. Doesn't anyone realize that my unpredictability is in itself predictable enough?

Wayne ran his palm over his beard as he watched the stranger across him do the same. For so long, a part of him has remained hidden behind it. He liked the way it looked on him. Vanity aside, what good was it to him? Wayne brought the razor to his cheek and drew the blade down.Wayne looked at the shaven portion of his face... Once you start man, you can't stop. Isn't like you can fix things anyway.

*

WAYNE HAD THE MENTHOL ROLLING around his mouth. He liked it. He found a spot, right there in the middle of his tounge, middle of his mouth; just above the pallet. He drew his cheeks back and sucked on the mint, drawing as much flavor as he could. He tilted his head back and took a breathe through his open mouth.

He ran out of cigarettes, he was comfortable where he was; it was the most he could do. Vanessa took mints everywhere, placed a pack in his bag. She used them to get off smoking. Sometimes to piss her off man, he'd light a Camel and asked her if she wanted a toke. Natually, she'd say no, so he'd asked her if she missed the habbit. It was like asking his Vegan sister she wanted a turkey sandwitch (the kind their mom'd make; slice'a gravy-soaked bread in the middle). Naturally, they'd say no, again, and they'd tell him to off. Wayne was only having fun.

He liked smoking. He liked the way he held it, he liked the way it felt; everything. That was it.

Wayne crushed the menthol before it had a good chance to dissolve; had that cool taste lingering inside his mouth. Shame Vanessa ain't here. He could just take her now, give her a kiss and her here and now over the balcony. He wanted to; give it a try, because he knew she'd bite back. Yeah.

The weather was just right down in Tijuana; early morning, the streets have yet to crowd. Wayne stood on the second-story balcony of the LaTienda, a small bistro in downtown Tijuana; classy dirt-ridden place that could use a little more light. Wayne and Vanessa frequent the bistro whenever they come into town. The manager was a cool guy, Roman Tavalera (Wayne often wondered if he was related to his old friend Joey); it wasn't rare when you'd find the guy in the back room sharing a joint with the waiters. Senior McGurk, he'd call 'em; Seniora Vanessa he'd call her. Never once called her Seniorita... Kinda pissed him off a bit; although it didn't really matter.

On the table, Wayne had a bottle of Corona and a bowl of paella. Had to be in the airport in a half hour, but he still wasn't done with his breakfast; he'd stop every now and then and have a smoke, a hand rolled cigarillo. He lit another cigarillo and felt the cool breeze of the Tijuana morning.

Now I can come into Felo-de-se and defend what is rightfully mine. Now, I know what some may wonder. And that is, with me being in the semi-finals of the World Heavyweight Championship tournament, why would I need the International Championship? To answer that friends, my answer is simple and two fold.
1. I want to be a double champion. I'm this far ahead and why should I stop. Both titles hold a significant amount of value to everyone in the WFWF. With the differnce of one ranking significantly higher in the other, their both the same in the end. I have what I have, the International Championship. Like my family, it is a treasure I fought hard to yield and I fight harder to keep. Next to Vanessa and Scarlet, there is nothing else more important in my life.

Wayne unearths the International Championship from a case.

And now, when I look at this title, and even the very though alone is a vivid reminder of all the sacrifices I have had to face to earn it. By holding it in my arms, I remembered what I went through at SuperBrawl to covet it. I have never been so proud of myself. This title means a lot to me for it is the first title I have ever held in my professional career. It's a golden reminder of everything I have lived through and fought for. And that is all I need to seal my claim, and my claim alone on the Internaional Champinship. Striker, as long as I've got a beating heart, this title stays around my waist.
2. On Felo-de-se, I will be fighting to keep my insurance.

Wayne hooks the International Championship around his arm.

Because come hell or high water, I will walk out of the tournament with gold around my waist.

Striker, on Crimson Existence you earned your shot for the International Championship; it's yours man and no one can take that away from you. I saw what you had to live though; you deserve it. For me, it didn't really come that easily; I had to wait. And I hated waiting, I could even say that I'm ing ticked off that you got your shot a lot quicker than I did. But I'm not. Although, if you asked me a year ago... Yeah, I'd be ing pissed because I waited. And honsently, I'm glad I did. I'm glad things didn't yield to me immidiatley. I'm glad I had to wait, because it just made things so much more deserving.

You've earned your shot and you've earned the spot where you are. You can say anything against me; you can even take a shot against Vanessa for all I care. Everyone seems to do it. On Felo-de-se you will push everything you have to walk away with the gold. I feel like crapnow and the plane ride's gonna make me feel worse, but on Felo-de-se I will mutter up everything I have to put you down. This is just the begining, we don't know what's going to come from this. The bottomlime is this: I respect you. Let's fight.

Wayne tipped the cigarillo ashes onto the ground and calls the waiter.

Can I get this to go?