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Post by Amazing_Jos » Thu Nov 12, 2020 1:39 pm

*Dayton, Ohio*


*The demon monster Qadir and Mexico's Super Sports Agent, Manuel Saavedra, are cutting a promo for UNITY 5 at the fan meet and greet.*

Saavedra: *Motions as if giving a toast* There will be no love for "failure" tomorrow in Dayton.

Cameraman: Alright, cut! Thank you very much for helping us get a wor...

*Saavedra's cell phone rings and interrupts the conversation. The Super Agent notices it's a call from his main client, "Intocable" Alexi Garcia. He quickly goes somewhere more private and answers*

Saavedra: Hello? Intocable! I've been waiting all day, how did your meeting go with 1-K Kickboxing? How much did they sign you for? I told them it better be incentive based with....

Voice on the other line: Mumble... Mumble... Mumble...

Saavedra: *His eyes open wide and he drops his cell phone in shock. He instantly picks up his phone to reply* Aye no.... I'm on the way, Darby can look after Qadir!

*Saavedra quickly drives to the Hotel Le'Veque in Columbus to meet up with his star client and enters the luxury suite. He is immediately in shock as he see's that the walls have holes punched in, the furniture is broken or flipped upside down, broken glass is peppered all over the room as well. Garcia sits in the corner of his room, staring out of his window at the bright lights of downtown Columbus.*

Saavedra: Alexi, i'm so sorry. I had no idea Mayweather got to 1-K before us. Darby said he would help too... That was our last chance, hijo. Forgive me...

*Intocable does not like what he hears. He gets up slowly from his chair and walks towards the Super Agent*

Saavedra: I know you're upset but I tried to beg 1-K management to give you a chance! *Intocable grabs his agent by the shirt and cocks back his fist* Alexi, por favor! I can make a phone call, I know one more place we can go to that will give you a chance and help make you famous! A place I know for a fact Mayweather has not "influenced".

*Garcia throws his agent and he crashes in to the wall, making a bigger hole. Saavedra begins calling UNITY management in desperation to get his client signed. What was thought to be a negotiation lasting a few hours, only lasts a brief moment. *

Saavedra: *Turns pale white as he sits in debris, it seems he has bad news. * Mijo, i've failed you... UNITY is fully rostered, they aren't interested in signing at the moment. They don't mind you escorting Qadir, but nothing more.

*Alexi cracks his knuckles and lifts Saavedra from the ground.*

Saavedra: They have no room for you, Qadir signed your contract, remember? The only way they will ever have room for you is if they fire someone, a person walks out on their contract or if a roster member unfortunately got hurt and could no longer perform.

*Garcia cocks his fist back as he holds on to his agent by the shirt. Saavedra darby sighs, closes his eyes and finally accepts his fate.*


*Saavedra opens his eyes, to see the fist of Garcia burried in to the wall, inches away from his face.*

Intocable: No aceptaremos el fracaso. ¡Iré a UNITY y crearé mi propio destino! *Alexi lets go of Mexico's Super Sports Agent* Vamanos Manuel!

*Without questioning why he isn't in a wheelchair, Saavedra follows Intocable expeditiously to the car and to the parking lot. They pull out and head to Dayton. What lays ahead is a mystery to us all...*

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Post by Puns » Thu Nov 12, 2020 9:29 pm

Zachary Brimstead, Esquire pulls up slowly in his red and white pin striped Toyota Prius in front of a blue ranch style home on the corner of the intersection where Gene Simmons Dr meets Pancake Avenue and parks by the curb. He grunts and groans in discomfort as the steering wheel nearly gets lost in his horrifically, disgusting blubbery stomach. He rocks back and forth several times and holds his breath and is finally able to dislodge the steering wheel from his gut. The suspension of the vehicle rises several inches as he steps out and seems to give a groan of relief as well. He walks to the trunk and opens it, pulling out a bag.

He closes the trunk, clutches the bag to his chest, a grotesque grin painted across his disgustingly overweight face and waddles down the sidewalk, up onto the porch and rings the doorbell. A strangely handsome hirsute gentleman in his mid 60s with jet black hair gelled meiticulously to the side opens the door. He grins at the sight of Brimstead. His exceptionally white teeth really stand out when he smiles thanks to his ridiculous deeply tanned skin and his bushy black mustache. He is clad in a light blue polo shirt tucked into khaki pants and brown shoes. A gold crossed necklace is nuzzled on top of the massive tuft of chest hair exposed by his polo short’s open collar. “Ah! Brimstead!” he joyously exclaims in a French accent. He embraces the morbidly obese barbershop singer, getting his arms 60% of the way around the humorously huge man. ZB drops his bag onto the porch as he reciprocates the man’s affection. He squeezes the ludicrously tanned man who in turn nuzzles his face deep into the monumentally massive mammaries of Zachary Brimstead, Esquire.

“How are you, mon ami, are you well?” he inquires. He stands back a step. “Let me get a look at you!” He looks the humongous man up and down several times. “You look well, have you lost weight?. “Mmmmm, oh yes, thanks for asking, Frédéric,” ZB answers. “When I weighed myself this morning the scale said that I have lost two pounds!” He stands up a little straighter, proud of himself. “How very kind of you to notice!” Frédéric picks up ZB’s bag from the porch and asks the comically flabby man “would you like to come inside so we can have a look at this?” shaking and rattling the contents of bag as he asks. Zachary Brimstead, Esquire bites his bottom lip and quivers.

“First!” the French man suddenly exclaims in a serious tone. “To enter you must know the password! Mr. Brimstead, Esquire, I ask you! What is the password?” Zachary Brimstead, Esquire grins a sly grin. He looks left. He looks right. He leans in close, cupping the overly tanned French man’s ear and whispers “I’m here for the gangbang.”

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Post by Annette1968 » Mon Nov 16, 2020 7:18 pm

As a shirtless “Luscious” Lenny Backstrom makes his way to the interview area, the cameraman notes the discoloring on his chest. Blotches of purple, yellow, and black, mixing with streaks of red. From the camera man’s perspective, it looks very painful. He also observes that Lenny is wincing from time to time as he draws closer. They exchange the briefest of pleasantries. Lenny drapes the championship belt over his shoulder and turns to face the camera.

Lenny - Battered, but not beaten. Bruised, but not beaten. Bloodied, but not beaten. Do you want to know why I’m not beaten? It’s because of her. (Lenny pats the Unity championship belt) She is the reason I will not be beaten as champion. She will always be the reason I will stay unbeaten as champion. Like every beautiful woman in my life, I will fight to protect their honor. And there is no more beautiful woman in my life than this Unity championship belt. Jackson Browne found that out when he tried to take her from me. But he didn’t get the job done. Now the big dumb Aussie has to start all over again. Or maybe he’ll just quit professional wrestling, like he’s quit everything else in his life.

(A slight moan can be heard as Lenny shifts his posture)

Now allow me a moment to address the bitch in the room. And if you don’t know who the bitch is, you really haven’t been paying attention. The bitch just doesn’t seem to get it. He can’t seem to grasp it. What’s it gonna take for the bitch to finally understand that you don’t call out “Luscious” Lenny Backstrom. I have warned that bitch time and time again, but to no avail. And now it appears that the bitch has a manager. Now I don’t know who this guy is. I googled his name. Nothing came up. He doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page. But here’s the thing, if he’s connected with the bitch, that makes him a bitch. In a sense, he is the bitch’s bitch. And from this point forward, he will be referred to as such. Both of you have been warned. If you continue down this path, I will destroy both of you.

Luscious Lenny...Out

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Post by Amazing_Jos » Wed Nov 18, 2020 3:55 pm

*Houston, Texas*
*Lightning Cat Tom Darby drives through the warehouse district of downtown Houston. He sips on his Iced Matcha Green Tea Latte from Starbucks as he is on his way to his dojo to open up shop for the day.*
*All he can think of is how he failed Qadir, the monster he was assigned to train for triumph against Henrick Brewsky.*

Lightning Cat: *mutters* Qadir... Big dawg... What the fuck... Brewsky... I failed... Fuck!

Toms brain: Dude, chill out, you didn't fail him. He was ready... Brewsky was simply the better man, it happens...

Lightning Cat: *outloud* "Intocable"... Why?? This is my fault... I was breaking through to Qadir...

Toms brain: You made a promise to Alexi and his Agent. Qadir failed him, what do you think they are going to do to you?

*Notices there's severe traffic up ahead and takes a small detour to go around*

*A couple of blocks away from his dojo and Darby notices more traffic. He gets frustrated, parks his car on the side of the road and begins to walk.*

Toms brain: You've fought and defeated some of the best in the world. If he comes at you, you will have nothing to worry about.

*Darby turns the corner, he sees a firetruck and group of people looking at a burning building*

Lightning Cat: *Mutters* Fuck me, it better not be...

*He realizes everyone is looking at his dojo burn.*

Lightning Cat: *Darby Sigh*

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Post by Puns » Sun Nov 22, 2020 7:23 pm

Zachary Brimstead, Esquire is sitting on the toilet in his red and white pin striped barber shop themed bathroom, scrolling through r/barbershop on his phone while taking a massive dump. He grunts as he drops a giant fudge bomb into the terlit. His phone chimes, indicating he has received a text message. He sees it is from Freddie Prinze Jr. before the text disappears from the top of his iPhone and he has a chance to see what it says. “Mmmm, finally Freddie Prince Jr. comes to his senses and decided that the world’s greatest professional wrestling manager is going to get a championship match!” he says to himself. “About darn time, too, Prince!” he mutters. He slides on the screen to lower his subreddit and opens up his messaging app. He pulls up the text from the Unity owner and see that the promotion is going on hiatus due to Freddie Prinze Jr. needing to take some personal time away from the promotion.

“B-but I’m the world’s...I’m the world’s....” He sniffs, trying to keep the tears from falling. “...greatest professional wrestling manager....now what am I going to do?” he heartbrokenly whispers to himself before dropping his phone, which clatters on the red and white tiles, and weeping loudly, mournfully into his hands, his pants still in a heap around his ankles.

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Post by Puns » Mon Dec 07, 2020 3:16 pm

The lights shut off at precisely 8pm. The intimate crowd of approximately 1422 fans gathered in the Newbridge National Armory cheer with excitement. The December show for upstart wrestling promotion, The Freakin’ New Newbridge Wrestling Company’s (TFNNWC), aptly named “The December Show,” is beginning.

“Mmmmmmmm! Ohhhhhhh yes!!! That’s right!” calls out the familiar nasal baritone of Zachary Brimstead, Esquire. The morbidly obese barbershop singer steps out from behind the curtain and the crowd, for some reason, loses its mind. Zachary Brimstead, Esquire grins widely. Finally, he thinks. Home. “It is I, Newbridge! Your conquering hero, Newbridge’s very own, the world’s greatest barbershop singer-“ the crowd erupts at this“- the world’s greatest love maker-“ the crowd cheers wildly as he pumps his groin with each syllable “-and the world’s greatest love maker” he gyrates his size 58 hips around several extra times while the crowd goes insane, “-Zachary Brimstead, Esquire!” He holds his hands out at his sides and the crowd cheers like crazy. “Oh yes! Slather me in your adulation, Newbridge! Let your respect drip all over me! Give me a golden shower of your praise! Give me a metaphorical Dirty Sanchez with all your love! Smear it across my upper lip, Newbridge! Ohhhh!!” he groans sexually. “I have finally returned home to show all of you fine, beautiful, upstanding Newbridge citizens just what exactly the world’s greatest professional wrestling manager looks like!” The crowd continues going nuts for ZB. Just going absolute ape shit. He waddles slowly down the metal ramp, slapping high fives and pounding fists on his way to the ring. His bulbous body glistens as the bright lights glare off of his skin slathered in a fresh coating of Hippie Johnny’s Farm Fresh Baby Oil. He groans right into the mic as he steps between the second and third ropes entering the ring.

“Before we get on with the match I’d like to single out a specific person who is here in the crowd tonight. Sheila Larson!” At the mention of Sheila Larson’s name many men the crowd immediately begin to boo. “Sheila! Where are you? Stand up for me, Sheila, if you would please.” The 505 pound barbershop singer scans the crowd, as do the members of the crowd themselves. Sheila Larson stands up cautiously in section C, row 2, seat 14 and waves. “Mmm, there you are, Sheila,” ZB says and points in her direction. “Oh yes, there you are.” He begins scratching near/around his genital region. “Yeah, thanks for the syphilis, skank,” he says sarcastically and the crowd collectively roars with an emphatic “OHHHHHHHH!!!!!” and moment later a “SY-PHIL-IS! SY-PHIL-IS! SY-PHIL-IS!” chant breaks out.

“Mmmm, tonight I’m managing a hulking behemoth of precisely preposterous proportions. He eats one cow and 12 dozen eggs a day to stay in this kind of shape! He’s the strongest man in all of South Oldbridge! He can bench press a Volkswagen! Ladies!” He tweaks his nipple, rolls his eyes back and his head and gently moans. “Gentlemen!” Tweaks the other. Another gentle moan. “Give it up for BIG McLARGEHUGE!” A well tanned giant of a man in a very tiny black speedo enters the arena. He flexes in a variety of ways, showcasing a ridiculous bodybuilder physique. Muscles on top of muscles on top of muscles. Muscles in places most people don’t have places. As he makes his way down the aisle Zachary Brimstead, Esquire continues to sing his praises. “Oh my god! Look at how big his quadriceps are! And those pecs! Mmmmm! Ohhh, and those glutes! Oh god those glutes....” He trails off momentarily but quickly snaps out of it.

“Go ahead and send whatever turd out here that BIG McLARGEHUGE is going to squash! It’s about time to get back to the hotel and make some sweet, passionate, fudge covered love all over somebody.” BIG McLARGEHUGE flexes his gigantic muscles some more. The theme song to 1970s tv program Welcome Back Cotter plays over the speaker system and a shaggy brown haired man in a black singlet with JOHNNY COMELATELY emblazoned across the front in black and white letters He has a mic. “Now let me tell you something, Brimstead!” He says, pointing at ZB from the top of the ramp. “Now I’m not sure how many of you here know me. My name is Johnny Comelately and I’ve been retired for a couple of years now. But I have had absolutely enough of your shenanigans and your chicanery! I couldn’t sit by and let you continue to pollute the good name of pro wrestling anymore! I’ve had enough of your bull crap, Brimstead! This is wrestling! It isn’t about fudge covered love making and barber shop music! It’s not about tweaking your nipples or freaking syphilis!” A small SY-PHIL-IS chant breaks out but peters out quickly. “It’s about what goes on in the middle of that ring right there that you’re desecrating right now by standing in! Get your ass out of my ring and let’s get this thing started!”

Johnny Comelately charges to the ring and slides in just as ZB squats and awkwardly rolls under the bottom rope to the floor. BIG McLARGEHUGE flexes his well tanned, super ripped physique. Johnny Comelately runs at BIG McLARGEHUGE who easily scoops him up and begins curling Johnny Comelately as if he were a set of dumbbells. He does 20 curls and puts JC down. JC hits the roped and attempts a cross body. BIG McLARGEHUGE again easily catches JC and hoists him up in the air with ease with what appears to be a gorilla press slam, but instead, he just does reps, pressing Johnny Comelately over his head 20 times and puts him back down again. Zachary Brimstead, Esquire screams for BIG to actually do something. Johnny again hits the ropes and tries a shoulder tackle but as he runs into the gigantic boulder of a man he bounces off and crashes to the mat without even budging McLARGEHUGE. BIG McLARGEHUGE flexes his rippling back muscles and triceps. He poses and poses and poses and has his back turned on JC.

Johnny Comelately jumps on BIG McLARGEHUGE’s back and wraps his arms around the giant man’s neck with a sleeper hold. The giant man flails around, reaching back trying to grab ahold of the much smaller man, but his insane musculature keeps him from reaching Johnny. BIG drops down to a knee, the air beginning to be cut off from his head. ZChary Brimstead, Esquire screams “BIG! BIIIIIIG!!!!!!” but BIG can’t hear him. Johnny Comelately squeezes as hard as he can and BIG’s face turns from red to purple. BIG tries in vain to snatch Johnny Comelately off of his back once more with the remainder of his energy, but he cannot reach the veteran and crumples to the mat face first. Referee Galveston Hughes checks BIG’s hands once, raising it and it falls back to the mat. Johnny Comelately screams as he squeezes around the neck of the bodybuilder. Galveston Hughes raises BIG’s hand a second time and it drops back to the mat. A third and BIG’s hand holds momentarily in the air and shakes before dropping to the mat. Johnny Comelately has won the match! The crowd boos as the ring bell sounds and announcer Percy Gunderson lets everyone know the winner of the bout: JOHNNY COMELATELY! ZB screams in horror at the absolute top of his lungs.

He brushes his shaggy hair off of his forehead, revealing a large, jagged scar across the whole of his forehead, a remnant of an LBCW attack that he will never forget. He calls for the mic. “Now get the hell out of here, Brimstead! You and your big muscle jerk! The next time I hear your on a show, ANY show, I’m gonna be there to stop you from ruining the wrestling business. Whoever you bring in, you no good son of a bitch, you line em up and Johnny Comelately will knock em all down!”

ZB frantically motions for someone to come from the back, manically waving them down to ringside. BIG McLARGEHUGE still lies face down in the middle of the ring, breathing heavily, napping. Four men in ski masks run down and trap Johnny Comelately in the middle of the ring. He has nowhere to go as they each climb up to a side of the ring. Johnny charges one of the men as they all four enter the ring and knocks the first masked man to the floor. The remaining three jump on him and begin beating him down. The first man gets back into the ring and the four men stomp Johnny Comelately. ZB climbs the ring stairs and pauses on the apron. “Pick him up!” he screams into the microphone dropped by Johnny. He grunts directly into the mic again as he enters the ring. The four men pick Johnny up, one man holding each of his four appendages. ZB reaches into his opened vest, moves his massive left man breast to the side and reaches deeper into the cavernous recesses of his disgusting folds of flab and pulls out a red, white and blue pinstriped cane with a gold topped handle.

“It’s time to deal a little damage, Newbridge style!” he screams maniacally into the mic. Johnny Comelately cries out “NO!” just before ZB flicks the cane a certain way, revealing a spike under the handle. ZB twirls it around like a baton with the blade exposed and stops on a dime, pointing the sharp edge directly into Johnny Comelately’s face. He squirms and jerks, flails and pulls but can’t break the grasp of the four men. “THIS IS WHAT YOU GET WHEN YOU MESS WITH ZACHARY BRIMSTEAD, ESQUIRE IN NEWBRIDGE!!!!!!!!!”

Zachary Brimstead, Esquire stabs the blade quickly into the forehead of Johnny Comelately who falls to the mat and clutches at his head. A gash has been opened up and he is bleeding profusely. The blood trickles down his face and onto the mat. The four men continue putting the boots to Johnny Comelately. “YOU DON’T RUIN MY CAREER, I RUIN YOUR CAREER, YOU FOOL!” he screams at Johnny Comelately. “PICK HIM BACK UP!!!” he commands the men and they oblige. He again twirls the blade like a baton and again slashes the face of Johnny, causing another gash to open under his left eye. The men hand on to JC this time, not letting him fall. ZB screws the Golden handle back on overtop the blade and strikes JC hard in the face once more, causing the men to lose their grip and Johnny falls face first to the mat, a pool of blood forming around his head. Zachary Brimstead, Esquire raises the cane over his head and strikes JC several times on his back, neck and back of his head.

“THIS IS A WARNING,” ZB screams insanely, his face turning red and his eyes bulging wide and bloodshot. “WHEN YOU MESS WITH NEWBRIDGE THERE ARE CONSEQUENCES!!!!!!” The bloodthirsty Newbridge fans love it and cheer the suddenly terrifying behavior of the massively obese barbershop singer. “THIS IS WHAT YOU GET WHEN YOU F WITH ZACHARY BRIMSTEAD, ESQUIRE FROM NOW ON!!!!!! I’M NOBODY’S FOOL!!!! I’M NOBODY’S JOKE ANYMORE!!!!!!!!”

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Post by Puns » Mon Dec 14, 2020 4:27 pm


Local Barber Shop Singer Arrested At Wrestling Show

Over the weekend at the December program, aptly titled “The December Show,” held by new upstart professional wrestling organization “Freakin’ New Newbridge Pro Wrestling” at the Newbridge National Guard Armory there was an incident. Local man, Zachary Brimstead, Esquire, known around town as the gold album selling barbershop singer most notably known for his tremendous weight and his adventurous love life, was arrested after an altercation during the show.

Brimstead smuggled a razor blade into the ring within a secret compartment in his cane, which he used to slice the face of formerly retired wrestler Johnny Comelately, who was making his in ring return to defend the honor of the professional wrestling industry. Johnny Comelately received 33 stitches to close the two wounds, one across his forehead and one on his cheek.

When asked about the incident Johnny Comelately said “I’m gonna get him back one day, I promise you that. Whether it’s the last thing I ever do, I’m going to get Zachary Brimstead, Esquire back for this.” After posting bail, Zachary Brimstead, Esquire declined to comment on advice from his lawyer, Hercules L Rendquist pending litigation.

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Post by ICEMAN KING PATSON » Sun Jan 03, 2021 11:16 am

Scrolling Instagram. There is a single post from a user X51@H18

It is a photo in a dingy backyard, a pale leg is seen in the photo, next to a table. A silver "Happy 2021" party hat, next to a half empty bottle of PBR. On the edge of the table, a grey alien mask.

there is nothing else

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Post by ICEMAN KING PATSON » Sun Jan 03, 2021 11:42 am

camera opens on a panning shot of Hill Valley at night. Far from the picturesque small town main street we have seen before, there is trash and burning trash cans everywhere. The Record Shop is boarded up, and appears to have been closed for years and years. The filling station is now a a bullet proof sheet to the attendant, with just the pumps outside. The movie theater is now a porno theater (didn't know that was still a thing). The friendly malt shop... is now a beat down old diner. the camera goes in the door, quick cut. Biff is seated in his letter jacket at the counter, looking despondent. In comes the door, surronded by punk rock looking young ladies on each side, left with green hair, right with pink, decked out in a black leather jacket and black motorcycle pants, with a red framed LED visor streaming "BITE ME" scrolling across the visor, is... Cody. Now has the letters CodE embrodiered on the front of his jacket

Biff! What it is!

CodE takes a seat. He slaps Biff on the back..HARD. Biff almost falls out of his chair. CodE smirks and laughs.

Haha ha! What is wrong! You look as if you have seen...ghost?

Biff: Look...golly gee, Cody. I ain't seen ya since the last UNITY show. I show up to train, you ain't there. Try calling...no answer. What happened?

CodE: Life happened. I'm very busy... and very poopular with ladies...right girls?

The girls look at each and laugh, then stroke each of CodE's shoulders.

: I thought... we were a team? That we were maybe still...pals?

CodE almost falling out of his chair laughing: HAAAAAHHHAHHAAHHa! Okay, "pal". Look... it's just business. No shows for UNITY, no local shows, and I keep busy. Get over yourself... Chum! HAAAAHHHAA!

CodE laughs and gets up to stand, he leaves arm and arm with the girls. Biff looks down sadly.

He shakes his head and checks his jacket, then he looks puzzled and frantic...

Biff: The book! THE BOOK! Where...

Biff looks frantic. He calls a waitress..

Biff: Hey! Can I get a Chocolate Malt?

Waitress: .... Malt? What decade are you from?

Fade to Black

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