Post by Mr. Rottentreats on Jun 25, 2016 3:35:35 GMT
A close up of the Wicked Clown Of WRPD lights up the screen. The exhaustion shines through the face paint of Mr. Rottentreats. The white paint only accentuates the bags under his eyes. The WRPD World and Evo Champion adjusts the white eyepatch over his left eye. Treats speaks with a sullen tone.
“Pardon the lack of spirit eef ya wheel. I probably shouldn’t reveal this.”
Treats winces as he pulls his wild lime mane back with his white glove covered right hand. The Pagliacci of Professional Wrestling points out the short trail of staples starting on his hairline and leading into the gap of his lime mane.
“Three clowns, three rings, three sadistically differing styles. But, yo! There can only be one! And you’re looking at him. Battered. Bruised. Beat all to hell.”
The clown’s hand of the attempts to comb over the gap in his hair; continuing.
“Speaking of three way dances. I’ve got another one going down in The Labyrinth of Lucha for Guerreros of Lucha. A Semi-Final match-up at Chapter 4, Inglorious Bastards.”
Treats’ glove covered thumbs enter the frame; pointing at the clown’s grimace. The Clown mouths, How appropriate.
“They got me facing the Hooded Halfwit and a Nationalist Nitwit. Well, newsflash, imbeciles! Multiple participant matches like this are my specialty. I know those are big words coming from a balloon twisting buffoon such as I. Guess ya could say I’m kinda kinky like that.”
The self-proclaimed King of WRPD Wrestling begins wringing his glove covered hands in front of his bare, yet tattooed and scarred chest.
“Masked Moron. I’m not underestimating you. You’ve made it this far in the Super Falcon Cup. But, this is as far as you’re going to make it. But, you can only blame yourself for being in two tournaments on the same night. As for you Kang Mina? I suppose it’s time for the King of WARPED to take his rightful spot on Mount Olympus, with the rest of the demi-gods. And I’ll be doing that at Bastardo Sin Gloria, when I advance to the finals of the Super Falcon Cup.”
The camera pulls back showing two shadow boxes containing the WARPED World and Evolution Championship belts respectively. Mr. Rottentreats cracks a smile.
“See, I’m not participating in this tournament for Mr. Rottentreats. Nah, this is bigger than Mr. Rottentreats. This is about WARPED Wrestling. This is about me giving back to the only promotion on this planet that was willing to take a chance on me in the beginning. This is about proving to WARPED founder Joey Matthew why he needs to stop fighting it. This is about proving current COO Patrick Kay right about choosing Mr. Rottentreats to represent WARPED in the Super Falcon Cup.”
Placing his glove covered right hand over the WARPED World Heavyweight Championship belt and his left over the Evolution Championship belt; he continues.
“This is about proving that WARPED can hang with the outside world. This is about giving the WARPED Faithful a reason to continue to support the most innovative independent rasslin’ promotion in existence today. But, as I always say. I Am WARPED.”
A chuckle escapes his lips; he smirks.
“Well, whatdoya know. It is about Mr. Rottentreats after all. It’s always about Mr. Rottentreats. Whether you like it, or not. Masked Moron, Kang Mina, I’m to the Whole F’N Sideshow.”
Mr. Rottentreats gloved fingers motion for something.
“Tickets, please!”
Fade Out.
“Pardon the lack of spirit eef ya wheel. I probably shouldn’t reveal this.”
Treats winces as he pulls his wild lime mane back with his white glove covered right hand. The Pagliacci of Professional Wrestling points out the short trail of staples starting on his hairline and leading into the gap of his lime mane.
“Three clowns, three rings, three sadistically differing styles. But, yo! There can only be one! And you’re looking at him. Battered. Bruised. Beat all to hell.”
The clown’s hand of the attempts to comb over the gap in his hair; continuing.
“Speaking of three way dances. I’ve got another one going down in The Labyrinth of Lucha for Guerreros of Lucha. A Semi-Final match-up at Chapter 4, Inglorious Bastards.”
Treats’ glove covered thumbs enter the frame; pointing at the clown’s grimace. The Clown mouths, How appropriate.
“They got me facing the Hooded Halfwit and a Nationalist Nitwit. Well, newsflash, imbeciles! Multiple participant matches like this are my specialty. I know those are big words coming from a balloon twisting buffoon such as I. Guess ya could say I’m kinda kinky like that.”
The self-proclaimed King of WRPD Wrestling begins wringing his glove covered hands in front of his bare, yet tattooed and scarred chest.
“Masked Moron. I’m not underestimating you. You’ve made it this far in the Super Falcon Cup. But, this is as far as you’re going to make it. But, you can only blame yourself for being in two tournaments on the same night. As for you Kang Mina? I suppose it’s time for the King of WARPED to take his rightful spot on Mount Olympus, with the rest of the demi-gods. And I’ll be doing that at Bastardo Sin Gloria, when I advance to the finals of the Super Falcon Cup.”
The camera pulls back showing two shadow boxes containing the WARPED World and Evolution Championship belts respectively. Mr. Rottentreats cracks a smile.
“See, I’m not participating in this tournament for Mr. Rottentreats. Nah, this is bigger than Mr. Rottentreats. This is about WARPED Wrestling. This is about me giving back to the only promotion on this planet that was willing to take a chance on me in the beginning. This is about proving to WARPED founder Joey Matthew why he needs to stop fighting it. This is about proving current COO Patrick Kay right about choosing Mr. Rottentreats to represent WARPED in the Super Falcon Cup.”
Placing his glove covered right hand over the WARPED World Heavyweight Championship belt and his left over the Evolution Championship belt; he continues.
“This is about proving that WARPED can hang with the outside world. This is about giving the WARPED Faithful a reason to continue to support the most innovative independent rasslin’ promotion in existence today. But, as I always say. I Am WARPED.”
A chuckle escapes his lips; he smirks.
“Well, whatdoya know. It is about Mr. Rottentreats after all. It’s always about Mr. Rottentreats. Whether you like it, or not. Masked Moron, Kang Mina, I’m to the Whole F’N Sideshow.”
Mr. Rottentreats gloved fingers motion for something.
“Tickets, please!”
Fade Out.