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Post by Allura Desmonds on Mar 6, 2020 10:06:08 GMT -5
Main Event
Tornado Tag Match
Johnny Reb and Executioner vs Fathi and Brian Kennedy
RP Limit: 1 Per Character or 1 Per Team
Deadline: 03/18/20 @ 11:59pm eastern time
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Post by Allura Desmonds on Mar 12, 2020 6:25:53 GMT -5
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Post by Allura Desmonds on Mar 20, 2020 8:27:13 GMT -5
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thenewcsa
Champions
The New Face of Controversy
Posts: 41
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Post by thenewcsa on Mar 20, 2020 18:05:10 GMT -5
*The camera falls on the exterior of Johnny Reb's Farmhouse early in the daytime. The general lays on the porch with a long yawn basking in the sun as two figures walk quietly along the fence. One very tall and muscular the other smaller but fit and wiry. Sure enough we pull from the shadows on the wooden fence to reveal the two tag team partners of Executioner and good ol Johnny Reb as they walk along the dirt road of the long driveway. Johnny places his hands in his jean pockets, his white shirt emblazoned with the Corona beer logo as he sighs kicking rocks as he walks head down his Cowboy hait and glasses hiding a somewhat worried look. Behind him Ex strides his wolverine work boots hidden under his wide legged jeans. A Megadeth "Peace Sells but who's buying shirt" with the arms cut off covers his massive chest as a human skull sits upon his head as he looks at Johnny just walking along enjoying the day. Ex sighs as Johnny walks obviously with something on his mind.*
Ex: Ain't it pretty?
J.R.: What? OH... oh yeah. ZIt's real nice. Spring be here soon.
Ex: Hey, thanks again for letting us stay here, man. I was worried stayin' in a hotel with all that viral shit goin' on.
J.R.: Aw, twern't nothin'. How is ol' spooky holdin' up? She enjoyin' herself?
*The camera cuts for a moment to Necra well dressed in a beatiful wrap around dress and high heel sandals in the interior of the barn taring wide eyed at a whole bunch of chickens surrounding her clucking with pigs running past her nearly knocking her over as she screams and the chickens hop flapping their wings around her as she sadly moans.*
Necra: Oh Gods! I'm in Hillbilly Hell!
*The camera cuts back to the boys as Johnny leans against the fence and Ex nods rubbing his beard.*
Ex: Yeah, I'm sure she's fine. She loves animals.
*Ex stops looking at his friend as Johnny sighs staring out at the field a long look on his face.*
Ex: What's wrong, man? I never seen you like this. You worried about the match?
*Johnny turns his head and fights a chuckle but sighs.*
J.R.: Naw, I ain't worried about ol fatso and back pack. I whooped their butts before solo and now that I got you it's a no brainer but I mean this virus thing. It's gonna cause NCW to have to cancle shows probably. I mean what happens if we gotta shut this thing down, man? I got to stay here work the farm. I mean what about the fans? What about you and Necra? I mean I met you guys we;ve become kinda close. This thing goes through and we'll be halfway across the country. I mean they might have to cancel the pay per view and what then? I don't want to go back to doin' nothin' and I especially don't want to lose touch with you guys. Plus I got the Colonel stuck in the hospital. What if he gets sick. I mean. Just a lot of things up in the air right now.
*Ex looks at his friend and nods sighing understanding as he leans against the fence and stares out with him before looking at him with a smile.*
Ex: Relax, man, I got your back. I mean me and necra will be fine. not like we can get sick. But it'll be okay. We'll stay in touch and I'll always be in your corner.
*Johnny smiles as Ex hits him in the arm and looks back out at the field.*
Ex: Shits gonna get real soon.
J.R.: Hell yeah, bout as prepared as I can be. Got plenty of food, feed, toilet paper soap. Ammo...
*Ex chuckles*
Ex: Boogaloo?
J.R.: Boogaloo.
*Ex shakes his head and Johnny just chuckles at him with a smirk. Ex just nods back in approval.*
J.R.: Well think it'll be the last hoorah for us?
Ex: Who knows? Who cares? Regardless we go out there and fuck shit up like always.
J.R.: Fuck yeah. Shall we go out with a bang then, partner?
Ex: I'm your huckleberry.
J.R.: Let's do it to it.
*The two chuckle and bring their fists together as they slowly turn around the camera cuts to them looking directly at the camera now staring at it as they lean against the fence.*
J.R.: Well.boys. Looks like y'all gon' get one more show from me and the big man here. Y'all should be really honored. Y'all get to get yer teeth kicked in in style. Presenting two of the most dominant men in professional wrestling today. The man the myth the legendary rebel himself Johnny Reb and the awesome, the stunning, the undeniable powerhouse of the Executioner. Thats right boys y'all done messed with the bull and now the horns are comin' out and aimin' for your flat ass bee-hinds. Now, I know what y'all are thinkin' this is just gonna be another match between us. You come in and run your damn mouths about how good y'all are and how I'm just a redneck and you get yer butts kicked again and then whine and cry and set flags on fire and wah wah wah. Well it ain't boys. This is it. This is the culmination of it all after this we may shut down a spell and quite frankly I'm tired of kickin' y'all sorry asses from one end of the country to the other. Not a damn one of you could beat me solo and now I got him...
*Ex just stands up firm and cracks his knuckles nodding behind Johnny as Johnny points to him with his thumb nonchalantly. He then gets up from the fence and moves into the camera getting in close to really emphasize his dominance.*
J.R.: What makes you boys think you got a snowballs chance in hell against the big man? Hey Fatmomma, fatass, fatfuck, what is your god damn name boy how do you spell it? Whatever the fuck it is you honestly think you can take that kind of power. This man wrecks shit. I have seen this man lift a car engine with no god dang chain. Just picked up and set it down. You honestly think you can stop that? You think you can handle all 6'11, 334 pounds with 11% body fat of him. You think you can take on the mountain son. You don't know shit about shit. You ain't got the good sense the good lord gave a cowpie. You ain;t got numbers. You ain;t got power. You ain;t got the skills. All you are is exactly what my boy here is gonna make you.
*Ex rolls his shoulders looking intimidating.*
Ex: Another Victim.
J.R.: And backpack don't think I forgot about you. That little stunt you did for attention. Burnin' that flag. A symbol of my culture. My history. The symbol of every southern man. Y'all wanna play Sherman fine. We'll play but I think your gonna find this ain't no damn reenactment, son. This is the genuine war. You think you can pull that shit with a proud southern boy and get away with it. Naw, son. You about ready to be messin with a whole heap of trouble. One of these days I'd like to meet your momma so I can sit down and talk with her about how disappointed she must be with you. either that or punch her square in the mouth for ever bringin you into this world. Regardless, son, you want this match so bad. You got it.Me and ol' Ex here happy to beat your asses sideways for a spell and when w're done kickin your sorry butts boys don't worry about the clean up...
*The camera goes to a close up of Ex as he smiles and johnny looks at him expectantly.*
Ex: I'll bring the shovel.
*The camera pulls back and Johnny smiles nodding his head with a thumbs up as Ex smirks wickedly as a voice calls out from behind the camera.*
Cameraman: And we're clear!
*Ex drops his stance as Johnny smiles smacking a hand to his stomach.*
J.R.: That was great, man. I'll bring a shovel.
Ex: You like that?
J.R.: Hell yeah, it was good right?
*The camera moves as if nodding as Johnny puts an arm around the big guy and they walk off screen together.*
Ex: Thanks. Necra, thought of it.
*As the scene fades to black.*
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