Promos for Assault 12/29/17

[Gary Bloomfield]

EDIT: Original Subject - "Attn: Snow [Brawler Beckett]"

PWA has received a video from Brawler Beckett to address Snow, and he specifically requested that we make this video public.

You can watch the video here.

[Snow]

So, Brawler Beckett has come to the United States at last.

You know, I’ve watched your career with a mixture of admiration and horror. You’ve certainly proven over time that you’ve got what it takes in this business. A couple of championships to your name, even. We have that in common, it seems.

But what we don’t have in common is respect. Respect for the fans. Respect for the companies that hire us. Respect for our opponents. Beckett, you have none, and as far as I am concerned, that means you deserve none.

See, to me, my whole career, this isn’t about wins and losses. Sure, I go out there, and I try my hardest to take home the victory. Here’s where we differ, you and I. If I am to claim victory, it has to be a respectful one. I’m going to respect my opponent, and this ring, and the fans, and the country I’m in, and the history of this great sport. Without that respect, there is nothing. If I have to diminish myself, to use underhanded methods, to get that win, then I didn’t deserve it in the first place.

And you…you, Mr. Beckett, are all about the wins. You don’t care how you get there. How many countries have kicked you out because you continually choose to disrespect their traditions and history? Three, or is it four now? I honestly don’t know if Japan got fed up with you yet or not. I assume it has, since you’ve come here, but it’s possible you’re just here for the money. But see, I respect those traditions. I respect the hell out of them.

If were up to me, you’d never step foot in another wrestling ring. Anywhere. But, it’s not, and I’m told that you and I will indeed be facing off in this squared circle. So let me tell you this right now, Beckett. You hold yourself to a higher standard, and you actually put forth a clean match, and you manage to beat me? So be it. I’ll be right there to shake your hand and say you were the better man that night.

But.

If you fail at that oh-so-onerous task. If you resort to the cheap, underhanded, and blatantly disrespectful tactics you have shown to be your bread and butter in the past? Then even if you pin me to the mat and get the official victory, then you’ve lost. You will have proven to me, to the fans of PWA, and to everyone who ever watches the tape of that match that you…just…can’t…get…it…done. You can’t win without cheating. You’re not good enough to step into the ring with anyone, let alone a real champion. And in this world, if you aren’t good enough to hang, you’re nothing.

So when we face off, Beckett, what’s it going to be? A clean fight, best man wins? Or are you going to cheat and prove to the world that you’ll always be an underhanded loser?

[Gary Bloomfield]

(A video was posted to the PWA website on behalf of Brian Fury. The video starts and the cameraman approaches a wrestling ring in a dark, empty gym. Brian Fury sits on a stool in the middle of the ring with a towel draped over his head concealing his eyes. A lone spotlight shines on Fury as he begins to speak.)

Fury: To those who don’t know….the name is Brian Fury. My profession? I hurt people for a living….REALLY BAD! I’m the type of guy who wants to know who the best wrestler in the world is. Throughout my career I’ve wrestled all over the world, been in every type of match imaginable, taken all sorts of physical punishment, bled, had bones broken, and you know what? I LIKED IT!!

I liked putting myself in the ring with another wrestler who thought he was the best. I didn’t mind having my bones broken, didn’t mind the chair shots, didn’t care to how much I bled….because if that was happening to ME then what do you think I was doing to my opponent? How far do you think I would go to make sure my hand was raised?

I’ve been to hell and back and just the other day I signed a contract to wrestle in PWA. This is the best wrestling organization in the world and it’s full of the best wrestlers in the world. Right here, right now….. I want to send out an open challenge to any wrestler who thinks they have a chance at beating me. I left an open contract at the PWA offices. Sign the contract, pick a match, and buy a body bag because whoever signs the contract…. is a DEAD MAN!

(Fury lowers his head as the spotlight goes out and the scene fades.)

[Stu]

After the special preview match between Brawler Beckett and Snow, reporter Terry Schneider catches up with Beckett to get his thoughts.

Terry: "Mr. Beckett, that was an impressive win over Snow, a seasoned veteran and well-respected athlete. The two of you had some tense words leading up to this match. What does this win mean for you?"

Beckett: "Frankly, Terrance, this victory as you call it means little to me. Yes, my opponent has years under his belt. Yes, he was once a top competitor. Yes, there was a time when he might have presented a challenge to even me. Perhaps it was the years, perhaps the mileage, but look at what happened. I forced him to tap out, that is, surrender, submit. Would that I had faced him in his prime. You call him a "seasoned veteran." Mate, beef jerky can be well-seasoned; that doesn't make it filet Mignon. As for the words we had - and I'd like to point out that he never said anything to my face - they were just that: words. The fact, the truth of the matter is that when we got to the ring, mush, I backed my words up, while little Snowflake drifted."

Terry: "Snow did challenge you to wrestle a clean match and there are some out there who say you failed to meet that challenge and resorted to less-than-honorable tactics. What do you say in response to those accusations?"

Beckett: "Heh, for once you hit the nail on the head, Terrance. Tactics, that's precisely it. Every move I used, every weapon I pulled from my arsenal was a calculated use of skill and experience that Snowjob just couldn't match. How could he? He insisted on going back to that tired old snap-mare. Now, granted, he pulled it off like a champ. I'll give him that; he knows that move well, and some of his rope tricks, but it needs more than tricks to win in the ring.

As for these critics of mine, these arm-chair wrestlers who have never been in a ring ... first of all, how is your wrestling career coming along? Secondly, you all seem to conveniently overlook, among all the rules you claim I break, the most important rule of all: if the ref didn't see it, it didn't happen! The difference there is that I'm willing and able to do what it takes to get the job done; he wasn't."

Terry: "Looking forward, what is the outlook for PWA with Brawler Beckett on the roster?"

Beckett: "That's Mr. Beckett to you, son. I gave you no leave to be familiar with me. The PWA is in good hands, I assure you. There is talent here, though it may be hidden under preconceived notions about what makes a popular wrestler as opposed to a good one, but with athletes like me leading the way, this will be a promotion that others will look up to and lose talent to. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a work out to which I must attend ..."

Scene fades to black as Beckett leaves.

[Snow]

Terry Schneider later finds Snow in the locker room, a large ice pack sitting in his lap.

Terry: "Snow, you fought hard in your match with Brawler Beckett earlier tonight, but ended up tapping out. What does..."

Snow: "Terry, let me stop you right there. Yes, I tapped out tonight, it's true. I've always prided myself on not giving up on a match, but tonight was different. This was a match to prove a point. Once I had proven that point, once I had won, there was no point in my putting myself through more of...this."

Terry: "You won? Are you trying to say that the referee screwed you?"

Snow: "Not at all. I cannot blame the referee for not noticing things when Beckett was between him and I. Yes, the dirt sheets will say I lost. It may go down as a loss in the official records. But as I said going in to this match, it wasn't about who won and who lost in the official record. My entire goal in this whole affair was to prove that Brawler Beckett didn't belong in this business. To prove that he couldn't defeat me cleanly. And by that point in the match, I had an eye nearly swollen shut and a groin in agony proving to me and to the world that he couldn't defeat me without resorting to the dirty moves that have gotten him banned from multiple countries, let alone companies."

Terry: "Brawler Beckett earlier tonight claimed that the most important rule in wrestling was that if the ref didn't see it, it didn't happen. What do..."

Snow: "Madre de Dios! That is complete bullshit and he knows it. If someone breaks into your house and steals your television, but nobody sees it, did it still happen? Of course it did. While it may be true that he got away with it in the match, everyone watching knows what he did. Everyone watching knows that he felt he had to resort to eye gouging and low blows to keep me down. Everyone knows that he doesn't have the talent to be in this company, and has to resort to dirty tactics to stay relevant, to win matches. Answer me this, Terry, has he EVER won a match, anywhere, where he didn't cheat?"

Terry: "I, uh...I can't say as I've seen all his matches."

Snow: "Neither have I. But I've certainly studied quite a number leading into tonight. And you know what I saw? Match after match after match, he loses if he doesn't resort to the cheap crap that he pulled tonight. Don't get me wrong -- he's a master of dirty pool. Props for that. But these sort of moves are better suited for bar room brawls, not for the wrestling ring. Brawler Beckett has no business in any ring, let alone the PWA."

Terry: "Harsh words. Thank you for your time, Snow."

Snow: "Any time, Terry."

[Rex_Camelot]

(Rex walks into view of the camera, adjusting the heavy glove he wears on his left hand)

We... have arrived.
Tonight, we change the face of the wrestling industry. I almost envy those poor souls in the audience who are so privileged as to witness history in the making: the first broadcast of PWA Assault!
And who is more worthy of the honor of leading the way other than ourselves, Rex Camelot? None other has our training, our background, our pedigree. Tonight, we grace you with not just our skill and ferocity, but the very power of the mighty kingdom of Wales itself!
Tonight... Heads. Will. Roll.

[Quillz]

(The following is an excerpt from the online wrestling journal ‘On the Mat’)

“Take this as nothing more than a rumor folks, but our sources are telling us that ‘The Surgical Specialist’ Akira Wyld, the youngest son of legendary mat technician Greco Wyld and the last remaining graduate of the G.W.S.W. may be looking to compete stateside for the first time in nearly a decade. The decorated veteran, who has spent the better part of the past ten years competing in federations across Japan and Europe, MAY have recently signed on the dotted line with the newly-formed Prestige Wrestling Association. Akira Wyld’s problematic history with high profile wrestling organizations has been well documented, but if the rumors we’re hearing are correct, then the former Pro Wrestling SHAFT world champion just might be stepping through the ropes in an arena near you sooner rather than later. We will continue to cover this story as it develops, so stay tuned mat maniacs!”

[Quillz]

(The following was found on an old, newspaper-wrapped VHS tape that was discretely shoved in the mail slot of the PWA Human Resources office. The tape was labeled ‘Lance Callaway’s 6 Tips for Firmer Abs’.)

***Upon pressing play, the screen distorts into view, accompanied by rolling scan-lines and aged VHS static. The image opens on what appears to be a tiny supply closet. Several blue aprons and mop can be seen hanging from hooks in the background. The aprons read ‘Special-T Market and Deli’. The field of view is otherwise empty. After several seconds a gloved hand gingerly slides into view and tapes a small wrinkled square of green cellophane to the camera lens, basking the ‘set’ in a mottled green hue. After several more seconds of audible whispering and shuffling around... two silhouetted figures ‘rise up’ from the bottom of the frame. One of the figures is small and slight of build, while the other is large and... puffy. The smaller figure raises an unlit flashlight between them.***

SMALLER FIGURE: “...hisssssssss...”

***The flashlight clicks on, revealing two masked wrestlers. The smaller wrestler has messy blonde hair sticking out of the top of a black and green lucha-libre wrestling mask. The larger wrestler is wearing a black wrestling mask with mesh eye and mouth holes with a green snake emblem on its forehead. The two men strike a fearsome, openhanded claw pose... immediately causing the smaller wrestler to drop his flashlight. A loud thump can be heard as the scene is basked in darkness.***

SMALLER WRESTLER: “Oh godammit!”

***Several seconds pass as he wrestlers fumble for their lost flashlight, the smaller one cursing and muttering under his breath. Eventually, the two stand back up and the light clicks back on. The two wrestlers again assume a threatening pose. After many... many seconds of this, the smaller one begins to speak.”

SMALLER WRESTLER: “Hello PWS Management... WE... are the FIERCE and DEADLY Coldsnakes! I am the inimitable JUNIOR COBRA, the this chunk of man mass behind me is the unstoppable GIANT ANACONDA II! And we... are coming to PWS!!!”

***Anaconda quickly leans over and whispers in Cobra’s ear***

COBRA: “PWA! Yes! The Premier Wrestling Alliance! We are COMING, and we’re going to blow your tag division APART!”

***Junior Cobra and Giant Anaconda II throw up their hands in triumph, once again causing Cobra to lose his grip on his flashlight, sending it crashing against the wall and causing the scene to go dark again.***

COBRA: “SON OF A....!!!”

***After several seconds of fumbling, the two recover their flashlight and click it back on. Cobra stands looking frustrated, breathing heavily through his nose, and glaring at the camera for an awkwardly long time.***

COBRA: “As I was saying... WE are the FIERCE and DEADLY Coldsnakes... the most vicious and unstoppable tag team in wrestling history! For too long we have waited patiently in the shadows... searching for the proper moment to STRIKE out at an unsuspecting world! Well the time is NOW, and the place is... wherever you... film matches! Just know we are on our way and we are bringing more FIERCE and DEADLINESS than you can handle! For when we step through...”

***A small intercom on the wall squaks to life***

INTERCOM: “Hey, are you guys still back there? Your break is over and you have to relieve Rhonda so she can go to lunch.”

***Cobra whips around and slams his palm into the intercom.***

COBRA: “Shut up Kevin, we’re doing a thing back here! I didn’t clock out until five-after so I’ve still got 6 minutes left in my break! I swear to god I will spit in your coffee if you...”

***An overhead PA system blares to life***

PA SYSTEM: “Junior Cobra to aisle 5. Bring the spill kit.”

COBRA: “OH FOR THE LOVE OF...”

***Cobra slams the flashlight into Anaconda’s hands and grabs the mop from the wall. Before he leaves he turns to the camera one last time.***

COBRA: “Anyway... you get the gist. PWA, we’re coming and you suck and we are awesome. Anaconda, finish this for me.”

***Cobra pats Anaconda on the shoulder and exits the closet. Anaconda just stands there with the microphone for several seconds. After an awkwardly long time he turns slowly to the camera. A single bead of sweat rolls down his chest. Anaconda clears his throat... and accidentally drops the flashlight again. After several more seconds of fumbling silence... Anaconda looks back up at the camera and shrugs. He then makes a ‘jazz hands’ gesture with his meaty gloved mits and pretends to descend an imaginary staircase leading off-camera, leaving a blank room. Several more second pass...***

COBRA OVER THE PA SYSTEM: “Anaconda, are you still back there? Bring me some paper towels. Some jaggoff spilled a whole jar of Newman’s Own Marinara all over aisle 5... what? ... Shut up Kevin, don’t tell me what to do! ... no, you’re being insubordinate! ... oh yeah? No... no... you’re the one who’s fired! Anaconda, when you come up here bring our mood lighting with you! That’s the only green cellophane square I have left ... Kevin I swear to god! [CLICK].”

***After several seconds, a meaty gloved hand enters the frame and gingerly plucks the cellophane square off the lens. The screen cuts to static and then shifts to an image of an 80’s jazzerciser doing air bicycle sit-ups to a rip-off of Flashdance. PWA management presses stop and the tape ends.***

[Quillz]

***Wind blows through rose-colored twilight sky. A lone figure stands atop an undisturbed plateau overlooking a majestic snow-capped mountain range. As the sun dips beneath the peaks the figure crosses his massive arms. The camera pans around to reveal a stoic, bronze skinned man in a gold and blue tiger mask. The man draws in a deep breath and narrows his eyes as he stares at the horizon.***

TIGER GOLD: “The sun is setting. Another year is marching to its inevitable end. It is a natural process... a bold and unhesitating step in the never-ending cycle of life. This is a time of reflection. It is a time of renewal. It is a time to take stock of life and embrace oncoming destiny.”

TIGER GOLD: “I am Tiger Gold, and it is ‘my’ destiny to forever seek competition and challenge those who believe in the purity of the fighting spirit. As long as there is breath in my lungs and blood in my veins, I shall travel the globe, testing myself against the greatest warriors in the world.”

TIGER GOLD: “A lifetime of combat has honed my instincts to a razor’s edge... and my warrior’s intuition tells me that the next great stage in the field of battle... is the Prestige Wrestling Association. As a new year dawns, a new organization rises. New challengers enter the arena, and Tiger Gold shall join them. Ready yourselves champions... for I am coming, and with me, your destiny.”

***The camera pans up at the twilight sky as the scene fades to black***

[Quillz]

***The video opens on an empty room. Off-camera, a person can be heard pacing back and forth, speaking to himself in low tones. A figure enters the frame. He's wearing a worn charcoal leather jacket. Stringy, unnaturally silver hair hangs in his eyes. A light beard dusts his weathered face. He paces back and forth, crossing the view of the lens several times before coming to a stop in front of the camera. The figure takes a deep breath and very deliberately pushes his hair out of his face with both hands. Akira Wyld stands before the camera. His face is creased with age and mileage, but he still has some of the youthful intensity that defined his meteoric rise as a wrestling prodigy 16 years ago. He glares at the screen, his eyes leveled in a death-stare. He takes a deep breath... and begins to speak.***

AKIRA: "So... this is what it's come to. THIS. Akira Wyld... the standard bearer of the LEGENDARY Wyld wrestling family... a WORLD CHAMPION in EVERY wrestling promotion that has ever had the fortune of being graced by his presence.... is sending in an 'audition tape' for an UPSTART little wrestling promotion like the Prestige Wrestling Association."

***Wyld puts his hands on his hips and begins pacing again, a sneer on his face***

AKIRA: "I'll admit... when I heard that the PWA was interested in acquiring the services of the Surgical Specialist, I was intrigued. You don't spend as much time as I have at the top of the mountain without being able to recognize opportunity when it presents itself. When I saw the talent that this mysterious new promotion was scouting... the veterans, the hot prospects, the rising stars... I saw the potential for something amazing... something GAME CHANGING. And I'll admit... I felt something in my gut that I haven't felt in years."

AKIRA: "OBVIOUSLY any promotion worth it's salt would want someone as great as Akira Wyld as their flag-bearer, so I wasn't surprised when an envelope labeled PWA ended up in my mailbox. What WAS surprising to me was that that envelope DIDN'T contain a main event guaranteed contract. What it contained instead... was an invitation to submit a resume and letter of intent for 'consideration' on the Prestige Wrestling Association roster."

***Wyld stops pacing and hangs his head. He laughs to himself and rubs his index finger and thumb between his eyes."

AKIRA: "An invitation for consideration... for CONSIDERATION. Like I was some sort of wet-behind-the-ears ROOKIE desperate for a developmental contract."

***Wyld slams his fist into his palm and shouts at the camera***

AKIRA: "When in fact, what I am is a MULTI-TIME WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION WITH TWENTY YEARS OF EXPERIENCE MAIN EVENTING SOLD-OUT ARENAS ALL AROUND THE WORLD! I am Akira Wyld, the greatest in-ring performer of my, or ANY generation."

AKIRA: "I don't know who you people think you are, but Akira Wyld does NOT submit a resume and cover letter like some 'good hand' trying to make rent. Akira Wyld CALLS HIS SHOT and wrestles wherever he damn well pleases. So congratulations 'Prestige' Wrestling Association. You officially have my attention, and you have officially been put ON NOTICE. Akira Wyld is coming to the PWA and god help anyone who stands in my way."

***Wyld advances on the camera and drags it close to his face***

AKIRA: "How's THAT for a @##$% 'audition tape?"

***Wyld slams the camera to the ground and the feed cuts out***