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Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2018 16:17:30 GMT -6
 "Tattle Tail" Candi Bratton© vs SkrabzRoleplay Limit: 2 Roleplay Deadline: Wednesday, July 11, 2018 @ 2AM Central Time |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 6, 2018 16:26:23 GMT -6
July 6, 2018
Denver, CO
“What the fuck do you mean it’s sold?”
Candi is standing in front of the bar she intended to buy in order to invest in something here in Denver and she had been in talks with the owner who had every intention of selling this to her until Candi walked up to the bar and saw a Sold by Owner sign on the front. She immediately called the asshole back to find out what was going on and she’s apparently getting the information she needed.
“Oh, they did, did they? I see. Well, that’s just fine with me. I’m sure there are other bars for sale in the area and they may not give a fuck, but I give a fuck that there’s a place for nice decent folk like me to come have a drink every now and then. I hope you choke on the fucking money they gave you, you piece of shit.”
She pauses as the owner on the phone speaks.
“Yeah, well you and I had a deal on where I come from a deal is a deal. Don’t you worry about it. You just take that money and fuck off!”
She hangs up the phone and she eyes a large rock on the sidewalk and actually considers picking it up, but instead she just mutters under her breath, “Well, fuck.”
She can’t deal with this right now, not that there’s much she can do. She gets in her truck and heads to the studio where she has an “mandatory” interview set up for her by Mack.
She walks in the studio and after getting setup, Jordan Hagen sits across from her and after they are rolling, he begins.
Jordan: I’m Jordan Hagen for Mile High Wrestling and I’m with the Mile High Champion, “Tattle Tail” Candi Bratton. Thanks for joining us.
Candi: Well, it’s not like I had a choice or anything, so let’s get this shit over with.
Jordan clears his throat and he begins.
Jordan: So, tell us about the early part of your career.
Candi: What do you want to know? How I became a World Champion after competing for only 18 months? That happened. I fought in hardcore matches, cane matches. I didn’t care what side of the fence someone sat on, if they pissed me off, I wanted to fight them. If they had something I wanted, I wanted to fight them. My rookie year, I was rated number 23 in all of women’s wrestling for the year. That’s above former World Champions. And I didn’t even wrestle the entire year. Want my resume, there it is.
Jordan: It seems that everywhere you go, you most certainly draw everyone’s attention. And not always in a good way.
Candi: And, what’s your fucking point, kid?
Jordan: Um. I mean, do you know what that is?
Candi: Look, kid. You seem bright, but you’re starting to make me think otherwise. Look, when you become the champion, everyone targets you. These motherfuckers didn’t start looking twice at me until I won the championship. No one gave me a rats ass about me, or gave me a chance in Hell of winning the championship but guess what, motherfucker? Here’s the fucking gold and here’s where it’s gonna stay. Now, all of a sudden everyone is looking at Candi Bratton like she’s the stuffed turkey on Thanksgiving and they’re the Master looking to eat. Everyone has hungry eyes because they think that despite every goddamned thing I’ve done since I got here, they’re gonna waltz in and take this from me, as if it’s that easy. Cause you see, they’re looking at this situation with rose-colored motherfucking glasses and they see what they want to see. If they actually go back and see all of my matches, I’ve never lost a single. Maybe a tag here and there, but I’ve never lost when it counted and if they think for one goddamned minute that I’m just going to hand over this belt, then fuck them.
Jordan: Ahem, so let’s talk about your issues with the Shieldmaiden and Forge.
Candi: Oh sure, why the fuck not.
Jordan: So, what prompted their attack on you after your cage match with the Master?
Candi: So, apparently words hurt now and they took offense to something I probably said on that goddamned Twitter. The real issue here is they didn’t give me a since ounce of attention until after I won the championship. So they’re going to work like a pack of dogs and attack me five on one to try and put me out, or injure me or some shit thinking they’ll slip in and grab this belt. The matter of fact is that I don’t care if there are a hundred of them fucking Shieldmaidens – they can’t put me down and they can’t put me out. I was back up the next week fighting in the ring. And when I get done with Scrubs in Phoenix this week, I’m going to line them fuck bags up and I’m going to knock them down one at a time until I get to the king of the douchebags, Forget. Don’t think I have forgotten about you, Forget. See what I did there? See, what they’re going to make me do is bring in reinforcements. I have a very good friend and her name is Bessie and if I call in Bessie, then things are going to get very very bloody. Me and Bessie, we are tight and we look out for each other. If Bessie kisses Forge, then Forget is done for the night.
Jordan: Can you tell us more about Bessie?
Candi: Ha! Fuck off. Trust me, you don’t want nothing to do with that girl. Next.
Jordan: Let’s talk about your new relationship with Emily Fails.
Candi: What about it?
Jordan: What’s your role? Why are you working with her.
Candi: She’s had a couple rough breaks and I don’t think anyone takes her seriously. She’s a kid trying to make it in this business and no one is really giving her a chance, and I’m not talking about the promotion. I’m talking about the other wrestlers. She needs a little guidance and I’m offering that guidance. Giving her a few tips here and there. She’s got plenty of potential and she’s being fed to the sharks. So, I’m helping her out. That’s all.
Jordan: Let’s talk about your match at the Rise. You’re going one on one with Skrabz. What are your impressions of the number one contender.
Candi: Look, I ain’t got nothing against the guy. Well, other than the fact he can’t speak fucking English and the Macks won’t invest in any subtitles for me. Others are complaining but the feel he jumped the line, or perhaps there should have been some sort of tournament to decide a contender, but fuck. I don’t care who I have to fight or when. All I care about is that I get to fight and I get paid.
Jordan: Skrabz seems to think he has your number.
Candi: I could give two fucks what Scrubs has to say. That motherfucker hasn’t face me in the ring yet and I’m sure that’s by design by Mack to make sure the match is special and it’s a goddamned smart strategy. I’m sure it’ll sell lots of tickets. He’s loaded up the card and I’m sure that the company will make a shit-ton of money. But Scrubs hasn’t gone one on one with Candi Bratton and I hope he’s been paying attention but I try and listen to what he has to say and he seems to think that I don’t deserve to be the champ. Again, the motherfucker can’t see what’s in front of his goddamned face. I’ve been killing folks around here. Where’s the goddamned Master? He hasn’t been the same since I caved in his goddamned skull. He was all talk and look where he’s at now. I don’t doubt that Scrubs has the tools to be the champ, but you see that time is not now. One day, someone’ll beat me for this title, but I’m enjoying wrestling for the first time in years and I ain’t ready to put this belt down.
Jordan: You’ve quite a few critics in the locker room claiming you’re not championship material. Not what the face of the company should look like. That Candi Bratton shouldn’t be representing Mile High Wrestling in any way shape or form.
Candi: Yeah, I’ve heard it. From Hamilton. To Forget. To the Shieldmaiden. Probably event Scrubs. If they want to be the face of this fucking company, then all they have to do is step up and take the Mile High Wrestling Champion from me. That’s all they gotta do. They don’t have to like me, but I promise you when I walk out of Mile High Wrestling as the Champion, there is a long list of wrestlers in the back who are going to shit their pants. They’re going to finally realize that I’m the real deal. And if by chance, Scrubs happens to defeat me for the title, good on him. That just clears up my schedule to taking out the Shieldmaiden, one by motherfucking one. Don’t think I don’t know you bought my goddamned bar out from under me. I’ll be coming to fuck you up for that too. Right now, my focus is entirely on Scrubs and defending this belt.
Jordan: Any thoughts on the crossover match between HCW and MHW?
Candi: If those pretenders want to come on in and get bent by the boss, that ain’t got nothing to do with me. I mean, the boss could have picked a better partner, but what the fuck ever. Not my problem.
Jordan: I want to thank you for sitting down with us and chatting about the Rise in Phoenix which will come to you live this Wednesday on PPV. If you can’t come out to see us live in Arizona, then by all means catch us live exclusively on PPV.
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Post by Skrabz on Jul 9, 2018 11:05:50 GMT -6
Location: Backstage, Magness Arena, Denver, Colorado.
Date: 4th July 2018
Time: Immediately following Skrabal's Match with "Desert" Rose Anya.
With his match over and a victory in the bag Skrabal walks through the curtain in to the backstage area. He grabs a bottle of water from a table as he walks by then continues on his way, heading towards his dressing room. He opens the bottle and takes a few gulps before standing still and tipping what remains of the water over his head. He closes his eyes as the ice cold liquid cascades over his face and runs down his upper body.
When he opens his eyes the first thing he sees is MHW interviewer Meozha Zhanae standing in front of him with a microphone in her hand and a cameraman by her side. He looks her up and down, his eyebrows raised slightly as a smirk flashes across his face. He goes to speak but before he can get a word out Meozha Zhanae begins her interview.
Meozha Zhanae: I'm here for an on the spot interview with the MHW Championship's number one contender Skrabal Stanzas. Skrabz, another impressive victory their in a truly nail biting match.
With water still dripping down his face Skrabal nods as a microphone is held out in his direction.
Skrabz: Standard!
Meozha Zhanae: A tremendous end to a thrilling match, one with highlights I'm sure we'll be seeing for a long time. Were you surprised by "Desert Rose" Anya's will and determination out there tonight?
Skrabz: I'm a be real witchu now, one time fam. I'm a always hold up these hands and admit when I'm wrong, I done it before and ya-nah I'll prolly have to do it again at some time... point is I was wrong about Anya. She ain't only look good, but even in the ring there I ain't take her too seriously at first but I come through in the end still, in style too, trust! Anya proved she really about it though, no doubt.
Meozha Zhanae: At the end there were saw, somewhat uncharacteristically, a show of respect from you towards Anya. Can you tell us more about that?
Skrabz: Nuttin' uncharacteristic about it fam. I just said she about it and I respect the grind, standard! Look I ain't afraid to give respect to any man or woman who earn it in either of two places. You nice in a fight or on a mic and I'm a acknowledge that, always. We had our differences and disagreements before the match and we'll have more in the future, prolly, but Desert Rose handle her own in a fight, true story. I seen it.
Meozha Zhanae: Speaking of your differences, there seemed to be a lot of controversy when you were first...
Skrabz: Nah, we done now fam.
With that said Skrabal walks away, straight past Meozha who turns to follow him and begins to ask him another question only to be cut off by Skrabz shouting over his shoulder "Allow it fam, man said we done now." as he quickens his pace and continues walking away.
Location: Skrabal's motel room, Denver, Colorado
Date: 5th July 2018
Time: 8.15am
Sitting in that same old dirty chair in his supposedly temporary accommodation Skrabal stares at the screen of his phone as he waits for a video call to connect. His breakfast joint burns brighter as he takes a deep toke, he exhales heavily and the phone is obscured from his view, hidden behind a grey white wall of intoxicating smoke. It is at this very second that the call is answered and when the smoke clears Skrabal is greeted by the sight of five of his fellow Toll Gang members and some of his closest friends.
Displayed on the five and half inch screen are Ty, Nash and Quiet Man, all sitting on a sofa. Ty and Nash holler their greetings while Quiet Man waves, nods and smiles in silence. In the background two huge men sit hunched over a dining table, a banquet of food laid out in front of them as they eat mouthful after mouthful relentlessly.
"Bredrin! What a fuckin' match fam! Me and Nash were on the edge of our seats from bell to bell. You gonna have to drop all that frontin' come the pay per view ting though. You start ya mind game bullshit flirtin' nonsense with Candi Bratton mid match and she a put you out, it nearly cost you in there with Anya to be honest withchu." says Ty with sincerity in his voice.
"It ain't a ting fam, don't worry. Man ain't wanna fuck Candi Bratton so none a that stuff even come in to it." Skrabal replies, with a smile just beginning rise in the corners of his mouth.
"Ya sure ain't want her though blad? Not like she'd be mans first grandma is it?." Nash quips sending Ty in to a fit of laughter and causing Quiet Man to shake his head vigorously in silence.
"Allow it fam." replies Skrabal, his smile made wider by his friends playful mocking.
"Don't be actin' like we forgot about the dog walker and her wardrobe hiding husband. You lucky you dipped out the country as quick as you did coz I'd be reminding you of that shit every day if you were still here." continues Nash.
"Man said allow it.... you lot all sorted to come out yeah? Shame it's only the five a ya comin' out but I know the rest be busy. I'm a need all you man on ya best behavior though, ya seen? No rock star shit, we ain't smashing no hotels up till the job done." Skrabal informs his friends, a serious expression on his face as he leans forward and drops his joint in to an ashtray.
"And when you clock off?" Ty asks, lifting his head slightly and smiling.
"Shit... when the job's done all bets are off fam, standard. I just ain't need any shit poppin' off before the show but once I get that belt we gonna tear tings up for real. This means ya gonna need to keep those two on a tight leash, I ain't gonna be around to do it so it falls on you two, ya get me?" says Skrabal gesturing to the two men sitting at the table who are still consuming mouthful after mouthful of food, seemingly oblivious to the conversation happening around them.
"We got it brudda, don't worry." Ty assures Skrabal as he glances over his shoulder.
"What you mean you ain't around to do it? Where you be at?" Nash asks with his earlier playful demeanor slipping.
"Busy fam. This the biggest opportunity man as had and I'm a have to make sure I'm prepared." replies Skrabal.
"More like man needs to shut himself away drinkin' and smokin' himself retarded." Nash tells him as a look of semi-disappointment flashes across his face.
"Yeah, that too, prolly... but if I ain't see ya before I'm a see you all in the arena and after the show too." Skrabal unashamedly responds.
"Take it easy blad, you know how Nash be but it come from a good place. It's all love, if you busy then you busy, we all get it and I'll make sure the twins keep outta trouble for ya personally." Ty tells Skrabal sincerely.
"Thanks fam." is Skrabal's short response.
"No worries fella. Good luck with it, from the bottom of my heart, I mean it. Nuttin' but love and support my G. I'm a let you go but we see you real soon anyway. Stay blessed"
"You too bruv, see all you man real soon. Toll."
Skrabal takes a few brief moments to take in the image on his phones screen. Ty and Quiet Man looking at him with happy expressions and Nash leaning forward, filling the bowl on his bong as the two men at the table in the background each reach for another plate of food.
Location: Skrabal's motel room, Denver, Colorado
Date: 5th July 2018
Time: 11.50pm
Skrabal sits on the edge of his bed leaning forward with his arms on his knees and his hands cupping the lower part of his face as he stares down at the floor, appearing at a glance to be deep in thought. As he stands up his weight shifts unevenly and he sways left and right before staggering across to the chair. He sits down and clears a space on the table by knocking the empty beer bottles stood atop it to the floor then pulls out one of his pads from under his seat and begins writing in a messy, drunken scrawl.
He stops writing and picks up an open bottle of vodka from the floor then leans back in his chair. His eyes soon close involuntarily and before long he passes out, bottle and pen still in hand.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 10, 2018 12:37:49 GMT -6
July 10, 2018
Denver, CO
Candi Bratton is sitting down with her lawyer as they look over the papers that were drawn up to allow her to buy a bar. It might not have been the one she originally wanted, but it’s something for her to call her own. This living life on her own shit is actually better than she originally had thought it would be. Her youngest daughter Lara was correct. It was time for her to cut the strings and start living her life. She’s got her own place states away from her kids. She’s about to buy a bar, which is something she has always considered doing especially when she considered winding down her career.
Maybe it is about that time. The scars, the aches, the pains.
Nah.
Wrestling is rather therapeutic for her and she knows it. She’s not going anywhere. She’s not going to retire until she’s a hundred percent certain.
What she has done, is kept her mouth shut about this new deal. Rumor most certainly led to the Shieldmaidens finding out about her potential purchase and this time she kept everything quiet.
Her lawyer slide the papers over to her, placing a nice little sticky arrow on all the spots she’s supposed to sign and she begins to add her signature to the document.
As she walks out of the office there’s a sense of relief that washes over her as she has sealed the deal. Again, it wasn’t her first choice but it was easily her next best choice and she’ll make due.
And now she can focus one hundred percent on tomorrow’s match.
She climbs into her truck and she considers going to her bar and just enjoying the quiet for a bit before patrons start to enter. But, that isn’t quite what she needs. Instead, she gets on freeway towards Phoenix.
The long drive gives her opportunity to reflect on the importance of this match. Was it more important than the match in which she originally won the championship? In almost every way, yes.
This first title defense would, in fact, dictate how her title reign is perceived. She isn’t typically concerned with the thoughts of others but there is a history here. Her first World Title run.
She defeated the long standing Battling Ring Angels World Champion. Many before her had tried and failed to defeat that champion and yet in Candi’s first opportunity for a title, she was able to defeat that champion.
And then a short time later, her first defense. She was defeated. She never complained about that loss because she lost fair and square by a much better wrestler. No doubt. But now, she’s under the same sort of circumstance.
Of course, if she manages to retain that would prove everything to her that she needed to know.
If not, then perhaps – just perhaps, she should consider retirement. Maybe it would be time.
She smirks, shaking her head. Nope. Not happening. She’s going to beat Scrubs and keep her damn title and that was all there is to that.
She reaches for the radio, flipping it on. How the fuck had she never heard of satellite radio before?
She pulls into the valet area of the Palomar Hotel and steps out of her truck as she reaches into the back for her bag and Candi Bratton hands the keys off to the valet as she carries her bag into the hotel, despite the offer from a bellboy to carry it for her. She pays for her room, gets her key and soon is settled in her room. It’s the night before the Rise and she suddenly has the urge to drink.
What the fuck, right?
She makes her way down to the bar of the hotel and slides into a vacant stool and orders a beer. The bartender slides it over to her and she takes a long drink.
“Aren’t you Candi Bratton?”
Someone slides into the seat next to her as she gives him a sideways glance. “Yeah, so?”
The man and his buddy take up the seats next to her and he grins, “I have tickets for the show tomorrow. Can you sign them?”
She gives a shrug and takes the offered pen and signs the back of those tickets before sliding them back.
“Thanks. I really appreciate it. Give Skrabz hell tomorrow.”
She reaches for her beer, “I sure will. Enjoy the show.”
Later that evening, Candi turns on her phone to record her promo.
“So, tomorrow is the Rise in Phoenix and it’s going to be you and me Scrubs. The main event. People are gonna turn in to see Stanton and Forget, Hamilton and Carbajal, the HCW vs. the MHW. Hell, someone might event tune in to see Adams and Mitchell going at it in a supposed dream match. All of that may be true, but what they’re really tuning in to see is the feature match, the main event, the drawing attraction. You and me.
“Everyone is going to get their time to shine but at some point during the night, someone’s getting up to pee, get something to eat or drink or maybe even a smoke break. What I can guarantee you, is that no one is going to do what when we hit that ring.”
Candi glances off to the side for a second and then turns back. She isn’t her normal agitated self, she’s acting very calm.
“I’m not going to scream and yell about how you don’t have a chance in hell in beating me, because on any given night some motherfucker can beat another motherfucker. And it might be that I’m a little drunk right now, but I say you have a chance of winning this match. As small as it may be, that chance is there and to be honest — when it’s all said and done, you were probably the right guy for this spot.”
“And so it will be. I hope you’re one hundred percent prepared because if you give me even one percent, I’m going to take it and I’m going to walk out of Phoenix still the Mile High Wrestling Champion. You see, I hear the rumors, the rumbling. I doubt anyone in that locker room gives me a chance in hell of retaining this championship. But those are the same motherfuckers who didn’t give me a chance in hell of winning this championship in the first place. They all counted me out from day one. So, I not only have to retain this championship, I am going to prove to every motherfucker out there that I deserve to be the Mile High Champion.
“One way or another, we’ll find out tomorrow.”
Candi reaches down and clicks off the recording.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
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Post by Skrabz on Jul 10, 2018 15:46:44 GMT -6
Location: Skrabal's motel room, Phoenix, Arizona
Date: 11th July 2018
Time: 12:15AM
The scene opens to show Skrabal walking across his motel room. His is bloodshot eyes glare in to the camera as two young women lay on a bed in the background, apparently asleep. He sits down on the floor and props the phone up on an unseen surface. He slides a box of beer across the floor as leans back against the wall.
"Ya-nah how it is, when man have to talk man have to talk and I might be in the middle of a lil early celebration ting right now but even still I feel a need to talk."
He takes a bottle of beer from the box and twists the cap off.
"I feel like this has taken for ever to get here though. I mean what's it been? A couple a month? Nah fam, years it took me, years! Oh what ya think man jus' stepped foot in a ring for the first time here? In Mile High? Nah! Ya needsta listen better coz man has said he been grinding for time, it jus' only now be startin' to pay off."
He pauses and lifts the brown glass bottle to his mouth, tipping half of it's contents down his throat.
"Look at the ting fam, I beg you look at it one time. Tell me bredrin, who's there? "
He pauses again to drink what's left.
"Ya got a bad man like Forge, ya got man like Ricky Stanton, there be The Titaness, Lance Mikes, Anaquin Adams, ya got the bossman back in the paint, Azurine Vebbins , Deuce Holmes, shit, ya even got the HC dub World Heavyweight Champion, Tyke Index... and then who ya got right there at the top of the pile? Standin' tall above them all like a big man, through sheer hardwork and determination?"
He takes another bottle from the box and twists of the cap while looking straight in to the camera. he twists the cap of the bottle and sneers arrogantly.
"Me. That's who. Man like Skrabz."
His eyes meet the ceiling as he tips his head back for another drink.
"And who ya got standin' across the ring from man, just through virtue have havin' that strap slung over her shoulder there?"
A look of disgust grows on his face as he shakes his head.
"Candi fuckin' Bratton. That's who."
He finishes his second beer and places the empty bottle back in the box.
"For weeks on end the woman been chattin' gas, blowin' that breeze about how me not be a deserving challenger and right now, last day before the ting, final minutes and what she sayin'? She sayin' man like Skrabz was the right man for the spot all along."
A sarcastic laugh escapes his lips.
"S'funny innit? Week upon week of nonsense and foolishness, costin' man dubs... ya think I'm a reciprocate those feels fam?"
He shakes his head again.
"Nah, you dizzy blad!"
Man might a given Anya props but it's back to them Dillion Daniels day's now fam, standard. Man is vexed and flexin' pon a disrepect ting now ya get me?
Distracted by female laughter he pauses and looks towards the bed for a few seconds.
"Shush fam, not now."
The laghter stops and he looks back towards the camera.
"Yeah ya might a gimme a lil nod there but but you been backin' up in this lil game a chicken since we got off the line and now you stallin', runnin' on fumes, outta gas like ya old truck... and man like Skrabz still full to the brim."
Another bottle of beer is pulled from the box.
"Pullin' ahead of the pack and I ain't even out a second gear... but I'm a shift it up jus' one more for The Rise."
The cap is twisted off and dropped on the floor as the bottle is lifted and tilted towards Skrabal's mouth as the sound of female laughter picks up in background again.
"And ya-nah I done said all along that I'm a be the next Mile High Champion so come later today I'm a prove that I ain't on a gassin' tip, ain't on a hype ting, man ain't slippin or trippin' fam, nah! It's a true say bredrin, straight facts fam no lyin'."
He smirks before taking another drink as the laughter in the background turns to moans.
"Man's no liar blad, nah. I'm soarin' in, Mile High, hotter than the ashes the Phoenix rise from and I'm a roast me a bird and walk out with that belt."
He finishes his beer and places the bottle back in the box.
"And if you think man was problem before hand you ain't seen nuttin yet fam coz once I get my hands on that strap it's brap brap brap... head shots all around blad, trust."
He stands up and takes his phone with him, the picture shakes and loses focus as he walks with the phone in his hand. The moaning grows louder as the video ends.
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