FORE!!! The Win (Supremacy Tag Titles)
Jan 22, 2024 17:09:12 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 2 more like this
Post by bloodiedfox on Jan 22, 2024 17:09:12 GMT -5
The repeated ~THWACK~ of golf clubs hitting golf balls fills the air as we fade up on the driving range. Amongst the usual crowd in slacks and sweater vests, the large frame of Ulysses Cole looks somewhat incongruous in jeans and football jersey. The effect is only made moreso by the fact he isn’t taking any shots, but rather testing the balance of a club in his grip.
UC’s gonna level with you, folks; this match seems needlessly gimmicky. It’d be one thing if it were like a hardcore brawl on a golf course, not least because we could shamelessly steal spots of running people over in golf carts from AEW, but no, we’ve just got a bunch of clubs and stuff hanging around the ring to beat each other with. I ain’t got no problems using weapons but give me something nice and sturdy like a chair, not some slimline carbon crap.
He shakes his head and tosses the club aside, triggering an offscreen Wilhelm Scream that he steadfastly ignores.
Not that I’m gonna need much sturdiness for this given who I’m fighting. Somehow the XHF tag titles ended up being held by some indie jabroni wearing beer boxes and a douchebag king of some weird little island on the other side of the Atlantic! Not even the more famous douchebag king of a weird little island on the other side of the Atlantic either, but a guy from some place called Supremia. At least Britain has some decent stuff, like Jason Statham and Rockstar Games. Supremia’s just North Korea with a slightly less flabby dictator, and at least Kim Jung Un isn’t sending me video calls talking about how big my dick is. I know I’ve got a big cock, dude, I don’t need you reminding me! It’s fucking creepy!
He shakes his head again, though at least this time he doesn’t throw anything to cause collateral concussions.
Then there’s the matter of my partner. Dana, I ain’t gonna pretend I’m not still pissed about you costing me the last ever DTF match, the DTF title, and a guaranteed one on one shot at the X*Crown. But then I also remember the fight you managed to put up when I beat you to be the first guy to hold that belt. So here’s the deal: you keep your head down, you don’t get yourself pinned or submitted, you don’t drag me into any stupid hijinks with Marty Donovan or Deacon Oldham, and we’ll win these titles. The California Kaiju has no problem with you riding shotgun on a tour of destruction around the Network with the tag titles; just gotta make sure you don’t stop me getting hold of them in the first place, you dig?
He nods to himself, and walks off as we fade to black.
UC’s gonna level with you, folks; this match seems needlessly gimmicky. It’d be one thing if it were like a hardcore brawl on a golf course, not least because we could shamelessly steal spots of running people over in golf carts from AEW, but no, we’ve just got a bunch of clubs and stuff hanging around the ring to beat each other with. I ain’t got no problems using weapons but give me something nice and sturdy like a chair, not some slimline carbon crap.
He shakes his head and tosses the club aside, triggering an offscreen Wilhelm Scream that he steadfastly ignores.
Not that I’m gonna need much sturdiness for this given who I’m fighting. Somehow the XHF tag titles ended up being held by some indie jabroni wearing beer boxes and a douchebag king of some weird little island on the other side of the Atlantic! Not even the more famous douchebag king of a weird little island on the other side of the Atlantic either, but a guy from some place called Supremia. At least Britain has some decent stuff, like Jason Statham and Rockstar Games. Supremia’s just North Korea with a slightly less flabby dictator, and at least Kim Jung Un isn’t sending me video calls talking about how big my dick is. I know I’ve got a big cock, dude, I don’t need you reminding me! It’s fucking creepy!
He shakes his head again, though at least this time he doesn’t throw anything to cause collateral concussions.
Then there’s the matter of my partner. Dana, I ain’t gonna pretend I’m not still pissed about you costing me the last ever DTF match, the DTF title, and a guaranteed one on one shot at the X*Crown. But then I also remember the fight you managed to put up when I beat you to be the first guy to hold that belt. So here’s the deal: you keep your head down, you don’t get yourself pinned or submitted, you don’t drag me into any stupid hijinks with Marty Donovan or Deacon Oldham, and we’ll win these titles. The California Kaiju has no problem with you riding shotgun on a tour of destruction around the Network with the tag titles; just gotta make sure you don’t stop me getting hold of them in the first place, you dig?
He nods to himself, and walks off as we fade to black.