(The scene opens to Rock N' Roll God passed out in his hotel room. There is jack bottles all over the place and a picture of Rock N' Roll God, his pregnent wife Amber, and his son Ace jr. The alram of 5:30am goes off,he smacks the alarm clock, and groggily wake up. He gets up and heads to the bathroom. You hear the shower starting up.)
45 Minutes Later
(He gets out of the bathroom wearing towel around his waist and one on his head. He takes his home off of the charger and hits is Pandora button and music plays. Rock N' Roll God gets dressed wearing grey sweat shirt & pants, he also grabs his Hifiman HE 6 headphones. He Bluetooth it to his phone. He gets on his converse sneaker and heads out of the hotel room.)
10 Minutes Later
(Rock N' Roll God comes down the hallway and then into the lobby. The clerk talks to him.)
Clerk: Mr. Indigo!?!
Rock N' Roll God: Yes?
(Rock N' Roll God heads over to the front desk.)
Clerk: How was your first night at The Four Seasons!?
Rock N' Roll God: Fairly good. I miss my wife and son tho.
Clerk: How long are you staying?
Rock N' Roll God: Til after the 11th.
Clerk: Ok well enjoy Denver. You going on a run?
Rock N' Roll God: Yeah it's apart of my workout to burnoff the liquor.
Clerk: Ok have a good day.
Rock N' Roll God: Thanks.
(Rock N' Roll God puts his headphones back on and heads out the door. Rock N' Roll God starts to jog.)
1 Hour Later
(Rock N' Roll God comes back. He heads up to his room and gets ready.)
1 Hour & Half Later
(The scene opens to Rock N' Roll God sitting in a dark room. He has his favorite gear on...maroon fandora, black sunglasses, white tank top, and blue jeans. He starts to talk.)
Rock N' Roll God: Welcome folks. To the Rock N' Roll God portion of this mini-movie. As you know I am The Rock N' Roll God. I am here in Mile High Wrestling. I am here to do one thing....MAKE AN IMPACT. I called the champion on social media, and also kinda sorta insulted my opponent Solomon Cain on social media. Now lets get to this man....Solomon! What can I say about you that everyone hasn't said about John Goodman from Roseanne. I don't know really never met this man before the streets nor in a ring. So yeah! He prefers to be called himself "The Lost Child" what your mom forgot you at the grand canyon, Wal-Mart, or the circus. Clearly it wasn't at a barbor shop because your dreads ain't on point. Not like this hiar.
(Flips his long blonde hair.)
Rock N' Roll God: Taylor-made m**her f**ker! Anyways....Me and you are on the kick-off show to the Pay-Per-View(PPV) Rise of The Phoenix. Thing about this is once they see me in the ring....The PPV won't mean nothing because the crowd will get what they paid for and then will walk out to go home. To me that is normal business to be the main event attraction and the show stopper. So....what is now going to have to happen is Robert Mack going to have to hire some circus or David Bland to come in for half time to get the crowd back into it. Now....putting that aside and seriousness. Me and this Solomon ...or Jeremiah Crowe as I called him.... is gonna have a great match, his move set and my move set, his finishers & my finishers, it's gonna be great. End result is gonna be me hitting my 4th Red, White, & Blue Kick and getting the pin. So trust me! It's gonna happen. You mention on social media about a t-shirt. Child please! Ha see what I did there. Used your nickname to make a reference. See my nickname is "The One & The Only"! I am the only one of my kind child. But back off the rabbit trail. You said something about a t-shirt bring your own merchandise to the show and let them have 25% of the income. Dam man. That is what I am doing. I am just having MHW sell it on their shopzone website to help get me more out there. Come on child be a business-minded about yourself and your career or you are just gonna stay in mid-carder. Where all you get a chance at a belt once in a while and never win it. While a guy like me, superkicks Candi or Scabbies and eventually becomes THE CHAMPION! While you become Lost in the shuffle of the roster and go no where.
(Rock N' Roll God gets a pissed off look.)
Rock N' Roll God: Solomon Cain or Jeremiah Crowe. The Lost Child or Lost & Found Kid. Whatever you want to go by! The fact you ae in the ring with me is a treat for you because you are gonna get noticed and you will take the lost and move onto nothing. While me soar to greatest from this point on. I won't be on the kick-off show. I'll be on the main PPV card and main event show after show after show. So Solomon just get ready for your first lost and be happy with it. I'll shake your hand at the end of it and get ready for my next challenge. That's all I am gonna say. Goodbye. See you on the 11th!
(Rock N' Roll God waves bye-bye to the camera and takes off the microphone on his tank top and leaves the dark room.)
We face the path of time And yet I fight And yet I fight This battle all alone No one to cry to No place to call home Ooh Ooh Ooh Ooh
Meadow Lake Apartments East Cleveland, OH November 27th, 1997 - Thanksgiving Day Off Camera Flash Back
(A twelve-year-old sits at a table alone in his small bedroom. His skinny, undernourished arms move at a fever pitch as he draws a picture. The picture is of a woman's face, not beautiful but plain. Her eyes jump off the notebook paper and grab you, the hurt in them are deep, so deep you could drown in them. The boys' breath is visible, as the room surrounding the him is not properly heated and the windows none insulated.
The walls are covered with drawings and posters of bands such as Alice In Chains, Metallica, and Pantera. We hear Nutshell by Alice in chains playing softly on the stereo that sits on a small table next to a small bed with dirty and ragged sheets. The music is soon drowned out though by yelling coming from what sounds like downstairs.)
Male Voice: YOU STUPID B*TCH! I TOLD YOU MILLER LITE NOT BUD LITE! ARE YOU TRYING TO P*SS ME OFF!?!
Female Voice: I'm sorry I thought you sa....
Male Voice: BULLSH*T YOU WERE PROBABLY THINKING ABOUT YOUR SIDE D*CK YOU STUPID WH*RE!
Female Voice: You're the only one with a side piece around here.
Male Voice: WELL IF YOU KNEW HOW TO SUCK A D....
(The voices are drowned out as the young man reaches over and cranks up the volume on his radio.)
My gift of self is raped My privacy is raked And yet I find And yet I find Repeating in my head If I can't be my own
I'd feel better dead
(The door of the bedroom flies open and there stands a bare-chested African American man, wearing only a pair of Cleveland Browns sweat pants and black house shoes. In his hand he holds a half-drunk bottle Bud lite.)
Kid: Looks like you'll drink Bud Lite just fine to me.
Male: The f*ck you say to me you little sh*t?
(Before the kid can answer the man throws the bottle at his head. The kid ducks and the bottles smashes into the stereo knocking it of the small table to the floor. The stereo hits with a thud and the CD tray pops open sending the CD sliding across the floor. The kid watches this all as if in slow motion and we see a look of shock on his face, slowly it turns to sadness, but then quickly to rage.
The kid quickly jumps to his feet and charges the man with a scream of rage, but the much larger and older man catches the kid with an upper cut to the jaw that drops the kid to his back. The kid rolls on the floor in pain as the male walks over to and picks up the boom box.)
Male: You be listen to this depressing ass white kis music, no wonder you are such a pu$sy. Your momma tries to say it's because you ain't got a daddy. Well I damn sure ain't gonna be your daddy, but I'm gonna man you up a little bit.
(The male slams the boombox down on the ground as hard as he can, which shatters the boombox into numerous pieces. The kid, now on all fours sees this and once again charges at the male with a scream of rage. This time the male catches the kid and uses his momentum against him. The male is aiming to send the kid into the wall but misses and the kid goes head first through his bedroom window. The kid flies through the window and lands on the roof of their front porch, but the momentum continues to carry him, and he rolls off the porch and lands on the cold, hard ground.
Drifting in and out of consciousness the kid can feel a warm liquid on his forearm and running down his hand, dripping from his fingers. His eyes slowly blinking through his heavy eyelids the kid looks at his right forearm and sees a shard of glass from the window sticking out of his forearm and blood pouring down his arm. He makes no sound as the heaviness of his eyes overcome him and the world becomes dark.)
Holiday Inn Express, Room 420 Outskirts of Phoenix, AZ July 8th, 2018
(We fade in to see a black and white drawing of a phoenix, its wings fading into fire as it soars up from flames. We hear the scratching of a pencil as it continues to work on the drawing. We see a large scar on the forearm of the artist. We pan back more to see it is Solomon Cain sitting at a table in his hotel room. His bare chest covered in tattoos and scars, his body half covered in jeans that look as if they needed washed a month ago. The lighting in the room is dim and lack of sunlight indicates that the shades are drawn. No noise from the television but we hear the music of Sturgill Simpson playing softly in the background.
We focus on Solomon as he continues to draw at a fever pitch. His hand moves quickly but elegantly as he pours himself into his art. We hear a snap, a snap that all elementary school children know, the snap of the lead in a pencil breaking. "F*CK", Solomon shouts and then throws the broken pencil down on the table. He stands up quick and hard, so hard in fact it knocks over the wooden chair he was sitting in. His face wears a mask of distress as he runs his hand down his face and through his beard, and then runs both hands back through his hair. He lets out a big sigh and then looks toward the camera.)
Solomon Cain: I hate this being on camera sh*t, still makes me nervous. I can be in the ring and be the center of attention as thousands of people watch me fight another man, but put a camera on me in a one on one situation, hell get me alone in a one on one situation and I'm sh*t.
(Solomon moves to the bed, more specifically his leather vest that sits on the bed. He pulls a small bag with a green bud in it, a pack of rolling papers, and a lighter from the inside pocket. He tosses them down on the table where he was just drawing. He sits the chair up and then goes to the mini fridge in his room where he retrieves a Pabst Blue Ribbon. He quickly twists the top off and tosses it into the trash. He takes a drink while sitting back down at the table. He moves his drawing to the side as he places the beer down and grabs the bag. He opens it up and begins to break up the green herb. He begins to talk again without looking at the camera.)
Solomon Cain: Rock and Roll God, huh funny...I'm from Cleveland, you know the rock and roll capital of the country, home of the rock and roll hall of fame, and yet I have never heard of you. Oh well, not like I've ever even been inside the hall of fame, you could be there for all I know. Maybe you are famous, and you just aren't someone I listen too, sh*t you could be the lead singer of Nickleback for all I know. What I do know though is that you are one unlucky son of a b*tch. You must have drawn the short straw because you are the poor ba$tard that got pitted against me in my debut for Mile High Wrestling.
You see Rock, I've been scraping and clawing my entire life. Scraping and clawing for food, for money, for my own survival. I grew up in the dirt and mud, so when I see someone calling themselves a God, rather it be of Rock and Roll, or wrestling, or lightning, or anything then I am going to take notice of that person. I don't take notice of them because they are flashy, because they are cocky, because they are great, no...I take notice of them because I know this person is full of sh*t. I'm sure Marshall Applewhite and David Koresh considered themselves God's too and were able to fool mindless, gullible idiots into believing them and following them as well.
But there were false prophets also among the people, even as there shall be false teachers among you, who privily shall bring damnable heresies, even denying the Lord that brought them, and bring upon themselves swift destruction. Second Peter, verse two, chapter one.
You have brought upon yourself swift destruction. You brought this upon yourself when you signed on that dotted line to meet me in the ring at Phoenix rising. You may fool a lot of people with all your pomp and circumstance, you may have been riding high your whole life on your charisma and talking skills, but I will not be fooled. I am not someone who will be impressed by you, I will not be in awe of you, I am not someone who looks up to you, and I damn sure am not someone who fears you.
My point is Rock, I don't care if you are a Rockstar, I don't care if you call yourself a God, sh*t I don't care if God himself called down from Heaven and dubbed you the God of Rock and Roll. There are three things you will never be one, Layne Staley, two Phil Anselmo, and three is victorious over me. I may not have been wrestling for a very long time, but unfortunately, I am the biological son of Outcast Chris Cain, and unfortunately that worthless piece of sh*ts DNA flows through me. He was a sh*t father, sh*t human being, but he was a true artist in the ring. Couple that with the fact that I have been fighting since I was born and I don't think you have a chance of beating me.
(Cain stops talking and takes another drink of his PBR. By this time he has finished rolling his green herb in his papers and places the end of it into his mouth and then lights it. He takes a few deep drags before ashing it directly onto the table. He takes a few more puffs and begins to speak in between tokes.)
Solomon Cain: I'm not saying there is no way you could win the match, just saying that there is no way you can beat me. You could win by disqualification, I have been known to lose control from time to time, but you will not beat me. You will not make me submit, you will not hold my shoulders to the mat for a three count. You can call yourself a God if you want, you can rock and roll all night and party every day, but at Phoenix rising you are going to be smack by reality. It's going to smack you hard and smack you right across the face. The hand that reality uses to smack you with will be me, The Lost Child Solomon Cain.
Growing up as a kid I saw people like you all the time, and I always hated them. Nine times out of ten I wound up beating the sh*t out of them too. Guys who always thought they were so cool, thought they were the life of the party, thought that everyone liked them and that everyone wanted to be their friend. Guys who never shut up, and no matter what had ever been done they had been there and done that and done it better than it has ever been done before. Well Rock, I don't like you, I don't want to hear you talk about how cool you are, and I don't want to be your friend. What I do want to do is punch your face until it is unrecognizable. I want to make you bleed. I want to run my fingers through your blood and wipe it on my chest like a badge of honor.
Then I will smile. That's right, I will smile. See like a famous artist may work in oils, or water colors, I work in pain and suffering. The canvas I paint is that of the one cover the wrestling ring, and my medium is blood. After I have painted a beautiful portrait using your innards, I will climb the top turnbuckle and have a seat. There I will overlook my creation in the ring, and as any good artist does when sitting back and enjoying his work...I will smile.
(Cain snubs out what is left of his joint on the drawing of the Phoenix. He grabs the PBR and says “guess I am pretty good at this trash talking sh*t” and then begins to chug the beer as we fade out.)
Last Edit: Jul 8, 2018 12:41:26 GMT -6 by Deleted: fixed youtube link
You float like a feather In a beautiful world And I wish I was special You're so fuckin' special But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here.
Gund Arena (Now Quicken Loans Arena) Cleveland, OH September 7th, 2002 Off Camera Flash Back
"This is it, I've waited my whole life and I'm finally going to meet him."
(A young teenage Solomon Cain stands outside of the back door of the Gund Arena. He stands among a large group of people waiting after an OCW wrestling show. Some hold signs of their favorite wrestlers, some hold memorabilia, some hope for autographs, some hope for photos. Solomon only holds hope, and only wants to meet his father. Every time the door opens for a wrestler to exit the building Solomon can feel his breath leave his body. He did not have the money for a ticket or he may not have been able to resist jumping the railing and wrapping his arms around his father when he saw them, just as now he can barely resist running through the door every time it opens to try and find his father who he has longed to know his entire life.
Solomon pulls the hood of his black zip up hoodie down and pushes his large teenage frame through the crowd to get a closer look. He stands and waits, eventually the crowd begins to dwindle as the headliners from the event leave. Finally, the moment Solomon had been waiting for occurs as the door opens and his father Outcast legally known as Christian Cain comes through the door. With one arm he carries a large gear bag and the other arm a woman with more plastic surgery than clothes clings. Solomon can feel his heart beating so hard he feels it will beat out of his chest. His knees feel weak, his legs trembling, his palms sweaty. For what feels like eternity but is only a moment he is frozen in place. Solomon though is able to snap out of it and pushes his way to the security railing.)
Solomon: OUTCAST! OUTCAST! OUTCAST!
(Solomon screams at the top of his lungs, but his father doesn't turn around or even acknowledge him.)
Solomon: CHRISTIAN! CHRISTIAN!
(This time Outcast turns around. He looks in the direction of Solomon, almost directly at him, almost making direct eye contact. Outcast begins to walk towards Solomon. With every step Outcast takes Solomon can feel his heart beating faster and faster. His nervous system kicks into high gear and fight or flight begins to race through his head. Then, Outcast is in front of him, is within arm's reach of him. He looks directly at Outcast, and Outcast reaches out his arm that the woman has let go of. This is it, this is the moment he has wanted his entire life, the moment where he will finally meet his dad, where he will finally hug his dad, where he will finally touch his dad.
Solomon stairs at the arm, but it goes to this right. His jaw drops, and his eyes widen in shock. He turns to see the arm grab a scantily clad redhead women that is standing beside him. The woman is not much older than Solomon and Solomon sees her giggle as Outcast helps pull her over the security railing.
Outcast turns and begins to walk to his rental car without even acknowledging the existence of Solomon. Suddenly the fight instinct takes over and Solomon jumps over the security railing and runs toward Outcast. Several security officials pounce on Solomon and restrain him. The commotion though stops Outcast in his tracks who turns to see what is going on. For a moment Solomon and Outcast lock eyes and Solomon knows this is his chance, the chance he has waited his entire life for.)
Solomon: I...I have to tell you something. You are...
***cutting Solomon off*** Outcast: Your favorite wrestler? Look kid, unless you got a bag of some good blow in your pocket or a set of double D's, I really ain't interested.
(Outcast then turns around and continues walking to his SUV. Solomon is stunned, he is speechless, he is heartbroken. A single tear rolls down his cheek as he is pulled away by security.)
I don't care if it hurts I want to have control I want a perfect body I want a perfect soul I want you to notice When I'm not around You're so fuckin' special I wish I was special
Joe's Tavern Phoenix, AZ July 10th, 2018 On Camera
"It's not about the f**king t-shirt"
(We hear the words as a cell phone gets tossed onto a table with a massive amount of empty beer bottles. We pan back and see Solomon Cain sitting in a small booth in the back of a dive bar. His hand grabs a bottle and tries to take a drink, I say try because to his dismay he finds the bottle is empty. Solomon mumbles to himself as he sits the bottle back on the table. He looks through the other bottles, seeing if he may have misplaced his current drink but finds them all empty.
Slightly depressed and not really wanting to get up as he is good and buzzed, Solomon slumps back and slides down a little in the seat of the booth. His hands move to the inside of his leather vest and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He flips open his pack of Newport's and sees he is down to his last. He mumbles to himself again as he crumples the pack with one hand and places the cigarette into his mouth with the other. Solomon tosses the crumpled-up pack onto the table and then flicks his lighter and lights his cigarette. The lighter is tossed onto the table as he takes a long drag from the cigarette.)
Solomon Cain: It's not about the fu*king tshirt. It's about respect. I may not be a big name yet...YET! I may not be someone who has bounced around from wrestling promotion to wrestling promotion, someone who gets mad when things don't go their way, so I just take my ball and go somewhere else to play. Yeah, I know, I don't come with big name recognition, I've never had my fifteen minutes of fame. What I have done though is fight my way here. I've spilled my blood and the blood of others in high school gyms, rec centers, armories, and bars while fighting my way through the small-time promotions until I finally landed here in Mile High Wrestling.
Now I wasn't expecting some giant press conference or a big elaborate welcoming ceremony, but I mean damn, a little appreciation for my skills would have been nice. Like I said, it's not about the t-shirt, it's about the respect. Since I've been here I've seen everyone gushing over Ace Indigo like he was the second coming of Jesus, and I've seen the red carpet rolled out for Layla Aishe and Ariana Bently. Sure, Layla and Ariana are pretty nice to look at, but Mile High Wrestling has to go out of their way to welcome those two to Mile High on social media. Psshh...I'd welcome them to the mile-high club and that's about it.
See I don't give a sh*t about having my own t-shirt. I do however care about respect. Maybe it's because I don't have enough twitter followers, maybe I'm simply not a big enough name, maybe it's because no one in Mile High Wrestling expects me to do anything worth of note.
(Solomon sits up and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. He takes a long drag of the cigarette and then drops it into an empty beer bottle while blowing smoke into the camera lens. Once the smoke clears he begins again.)
Solomon Cain: You know I've been discounted my entire life. I've been discounted, disrespected, and looked over. That is not happening anymore, I will not be disrespected, I will not be looked down upon. I will be the one doing the looking down. I'll be looking down at Ace when I am standing with my hand raised in the middle of the ring and looking down at his bloody body.
While I'm on the subject of respect and leaving someone bloody, let me address Ophelia Blaque really quick. Like most women you forget your place and think you can talk to a man anyway you please, because "women are equal to men". You women think you can say whatever you want because it's not right for a man to hit a woman, but you want to be treated as equals. B*tch you will never be my equal, and if you try to disrespect me again you'll be eating through a straw for the next six months.
(Solomon stands up from the booth and walks over to the bar. We see it is a very dimly lit place with few people. Solomon has always hated crowds, but he has always hated people so that makes sense. He gets to the bar and motions to the bar tender for two more. Solomon leans up against the bar and drops his head, this hides his face with his long hair. The old, chubby bartender brings over two bottles of PBR and sits on the bar beside of Solomon. In response Solomon stands up and pulls a ten-dollar bill from his pocket and tosses it onto the bar. "Keep the change" Solomon says as he grabs a bottle and twist the top off. He turns back around and leans against the bar, he takes a long drink before he speaks again.)
Solomon Cain: Maybe I'm being a little harsh on Mile High Wrestling, Ace, Ophelia, and... no, no I'm not f*ck that sh*t. WHAT ABOUT ME!?! HUH!?! WHAT ABOUT ME!?! I'm sick and tired of people acting like I'm not important, like I don't exist. I made a splash by attacking Ripley because I wanted to make a statement, that's it, plain and simple a statement to let everyone know I am here and I am a dangerous man. Come Phoenix Rising everyone here is going to know just how dangerous I am. I'm going to beat on Ace until his body is broken and bloody. Don't t take it personal Ace, it's not about you, it's not about a t-shirt, like I've said over and over again, it's about respect. I'm going to beat respect from all of Mile High wrestling into you Ace.
Maybe the most popular verse of the Bible, maybe the most popular verse of any book ever written says in John 3:16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. Well I am giving Mile High Wrestling the Rock and Roll God, so that none will have to ever suffer the pain and agony of my wraith again. Not so that you all can have ever lasting life, but so that you all learn respect and fear. Rock and Roll, you are going to be made an example of. An example of what I am capable of, an example that will strike fear into the hearts of every man and woman in Mile High Wrestling.
When Ripley gets done licking his wounds and comes back looking for revenge he will find nothing but a ravaged landscape, and people warning him of what is to come. Pre-show or main event, t-shirt or no t-shirt, I really don't give a sh*t. I'm here to grow my name, and to beat people up. I'll let everyone in on a little secret, I'm not in wrestling for fame, money...even though that doesn't hurt, I'm not in it for championships, I'm not in it for any of the reasons everyone else is. I'm in professional wrestling to prove I'm not my father, I'm here because he loved professional wrestling more than he loved anything else in this world and all I want to do is be better than him at this so that way when I stand at the top of the mountain I can take this sport and shove it up his a$s.
(Solomon throws his head back and chugs what is left of his bottle. He then tosses the bottle into a black plastic trash can near the end of the bar and lets out a loud burp. He takes the other bottle in his hand and twist the top off.)
Solomon Cain: Phoenix Rising is my coming out party, it is where I am going to stamp my name on Mile High Wrestling. First, it's you R and R, then it's Ripley, and then the world. I may not have the respect of the Mile-High roster, and that's fine because frankly I don't respect any of you. After what I do to R and R though, I will be feared by all of Mile High Wrestling, and that works just fine for me.
Admin: Note that the deadlines have changed. I made the change for the convenience of the other judges.
May 17, 2021 15:21:30 GMT -6
Admin: Hope everyone is enjoying their 4th of July weekend/week/day! 💪💯💯
Jul 4, 2021 14:22:58 GMT -6
Admin: Where do yall hist photos? I'm thinking about switching sites, because I'm paying a monthly subscription for Photobucket and they got watermarks back on my images. I'm guessing it's a glitch or something, but it's already been two days.
Aug 7, 2021 6:56:18 GMT -6
The Purge: I use Imgur - and I've never paid a cent for their services, and no water marks
Aug 7, 2021 8:48:13 GMT -6
Deleted: o.o Lord, Rob! Get away from Photobucket ASAP! I’m with Haircin — use Imgur. It’s way better and costs nothing.
Aug 8, 2021 16:28:35 GMT -6
Admin: I appreciate yall! ✊💯💯 Ima look into it this week. Apologies to everyone if some of the images for the show tonight have that Photobucket watermark. I didn't have the time today obviously to make any switches. But I will make time this week. 💯💯
Aug 8, 2021 17:43:04 GMT -6
Admin: Katrina will probably be happy too as she was just telling me I was crazy for paying monthly for a photo host. Lol.
Aug 8, 2021 17:44:00 GMT -6
Admin: ***NOTE*** I moved the deadline up 12 hours to give the judges an extra day to read over the rps.
Aug 10, 2021 15:29:37 GMT -6
Admin: Started messing with Imgur today and confirmed to myself that Imgur was the original photo host I was using for Season One and the beginning of Season Two of MHW. Something made me mad and thats when I switched to Photobucket. I don't remember what though.
Aug 12, 2021 16:08:47 GMT -6
Admin: Ima still switch back to it though, because the Photobucker watermarks are still showing up on some images.
Aug 12, 2021 16:09:19 GMT -6
Admin: ***Just A Reminder*** The new deadline is less than 24 hours away. 💪💯💯
Aug 20, 2021 9:45:58 GMT -6
cmosh: Marisol Vilaró is Spanish, she is from Spain
Sept 14, 2021 22:50:17 GMT -6
Admin: Noted 💪💯💯 So I can get Rrina to teach me how to pronounce her name.
Sept 15, 2021 15:35:32 GMT -6
cmosh: Don't worry I don't know how to pronounce it either. She is actually played by someone else, so it is sometimes hard to do RP's with them due to our work schelduce but I am alound to use the character over here
Sept 15, 2021 19:28:12 GMT -6
Admin: Trying something different with the match writing, based off of research and just to try something new. It's a hit or miss concept, so feedback would be appreciated. ThrowDown will also debut the new layout concept. AMMO will start with that new layout...
Sept 18, 2021 8:35:55 GMT -6
Admin: ...on the following AMMO. This AMMO will just have the new match writing idea.
Sept 18, 2021 8:36:32 GMT -6
cmosh: I want to apologize to everyone for not doing a rp this week. Just been a tough week at work and other things got in the way as well, again I'm really sorry for not rping this week
Sept 18, 2021 21:07:43 GMT -6
Admin: It happens, brudda!
Sept 19, 2021 19:49:09 GMT -6