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| Terry Richards; "The Windy City Madman" | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 29 2010, 07:29 AM (128 Views) | |
| Shot | Jun 29 2010, 07:29 AM Post #1 |
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Handler Info Name: Leo Email: scarsofeagle@gmail.com Messengers: AIM - thedoctorshot Experience: Three years of match writing, one of RPing. Weird, eh? How Did You Hear About Us: RoughKut. Wrestler Info Name: Terry Richards Nickname: "The Windy City Madman" Alignment: Heel Height: 5'9'' Weight: 186 lbs. Billed From: Chicago, IL Developmental Territory: Golden Boy Wrestling Likeness: Eric Young in 2009. Manager: Lynne Cobain Entrance Music: "Perfect Insanity" by Disturbed Entrance Description "Perfect Insanity" by Disturbed hits the PA system as the crowd wastes no time throwing out a negative reaction. Terry Richards comes out, not caring a bit about the crowd, followed by the lovely Lynne. Terry, strides cockily down the entrance ramp, while Lynne argues with the crowd. Terry slides under the bottom rope into the ring, smirks, and awaits the match to start. Gimmick Terry Richards is a person that suffers from I.E.D. (Intermittent Explosive Disorder), which is triggered pretty easily. Terry, in his outbursts of rage, has committed several violent acts, that have cost him some of his friends. Richards is also extremely cocky, wearing his classic smirk that annoys people to the core. These two details of his personality make him hated by wrestling crowds around the world, except for Chicago, IL, where he is mildly cheered due to hoisting his hometown's name so proudly in his tours worldwide. Wrestling Style Mostly high-flyer, but also technical. Move List Finishers (Please include descriptions; no more than two (2)) 1. Shock Turn I (Ranhei) 2. Shock Turn II (Natare Bianco) Signature Moves (These are regular moves that you have trademarked/No Finisher type moves here) 1. The Insanity Within (Superkick) Generic Moves (Up to five (5) in each category) Standing: 1. Hurracanrana 2. Snap DDT 3. Arm drag 4. Enzuigiri 5. Diamond Cutter Ground: 1. Fujiwara Armbar 2. Headscissors 3. Standing Star Press 4. Sharpshooter 5. Punt Corner: 1. Knife edge chop 2. Superplex 3. Monkey flip 4. Top Rope Hurracanrana 5. Tornado DDT Running: 1. Quick clothesline 2. Spear 3. Senton right into a standing opponent 4. Spinning heel kick 5. Handspring back elbow High Flying: 1. Corkscrew Moonsault 2. Shooting Star Press 3. Senton Bomb 4. Suicide Dive (To the outside) 5. Springboard clothesline Sample RP For CWF SuperCard V. A match against James Baker. -------------------- Prologue -------------------- After Chris left Saturday Night Showdown, with vile intentions in mind, the world was perplexed. Chris Richards had never murdered anyone, and he doesn’t look like the kind of people who has the guts. But, what will he follow? A heavy weight haunting his conscience for murdering a CWF wrestler, and the eternal fear of the authorities coming after him, or the heavy weight that he deceived his brother, Terry, by not taking the Ultimatum seriously? Any way he picks, Chris’ future will be full with a weight on his conscience, and now, it’s time to decide…Which path to take? --------------------- The scene fades in to the dark Saturday night, the streets almost empty, due to the unpleasant weather conditions and partially to Saturday Night Showdown and Saturday Night Live. A small quantity of rain pours from the skies. Chris wears a dark coat, his hands on his pockets, as he looks down upon the soil, confused. A decision was ahead of him… Courage was all what it took. Chris enters his vehicle, a quick Ford Mustang, and drives away. Chris: Damn… I’m nervous… Yes, he was sweating, the tension burning inside of him. Chris picks up a paper from the seat next to him and reads it…It contains an address. Probably where Enrique is right now, locked, awaiting death. Chris closes his hand, compressing the paper, and throws it away. The sweat continues, so he may just put on some music… Chris: We need a little sound... And sound comes out of the radio. Extremely ironically, it’s “I Decide” by Lindsay Lohan. Chris gasps, irritated, and turns the radio off… No need for it, anyway. He arrived. Chris parks his luxury car in front of an old, degraded building, which probably has Enrique inside. The contrast blares in the eyes. Chris: Here it is, the all or nothing. Courage, Chris… What would Terry say? In his mind, Chris imagined Terry slapping the back of his head and saying “Hurry up! It’s just a goddamn snot… Just pull the trigger and eradicate him from the face of earth once and for all! How hard can it be?” Well, if you’re seeing things that way, Chris has no reasons at all to spare Enrique Lopez. But, Chris has been hiding a secret moment for a long time. Time to dive into a chapter of Chris’ life that he’d be thought that would be hidden forever… *FLASHBACK* Hikari drags Chris to a closet, shy, and…No, no incest at all, she just whispers her state of mind… Hikari: You know when I said that I loved Enrique? Chris: …Y…Yeah… Hikari (Shy and nervous): …Eh…It was true. Chris: WHAT THE F- Hikari (covering his mouth): SSHHH!!! Chris was nearly yelling the news into the entire building, but Hikari was able to stop him right on time. Hikari: I really do. When I visited him, at night, he was always nice, and so kind for me… Please don’t do what Terry asks you to. Chris: I…Don’t know… Hikari opens the closet and steps out, still looking at Chris straight in the eyes, desperately trying to put some sense in his head. Hikari: Please, Chris. Please. Hikari walks away as Chris is baffled, confuse, thinking of which path to follow… *END OF FLASHBACK* We go back to Chris, who is slowly entering the ruined building, meditating about the decision that was ahead of him. However, a turn to the right, and he was already in a dim lighted room, seemingly some sort of warehouse. Walls made of white wood, and a white ceiling and floor, much alike the place where Terry was kidnapped back in a Showdown much time ago. In the center lies Enrique Lopez, tied up very tightly on a wooden chair that was almost about to break. He’s unconscious. Chris (In a severe, cold tone): Wake up, fuckstain. Enrique keeps sleeping, no answer heard, until Chris vigorously slaps Enrique, making him wake up in wrath. Enrique: What the FUCK is your problem? Can’t you see I’m fucking trying to sleep? Chris (with a sadistic look, reminiscent of his brother): And I’m here to help you sleep… FOR ETERNITY! Chris swings his revolver, taking him out of his jeans, and points it at the now terrified Enrique. Enrique (panicked): What the hell are you doing? Please, don’t stain your soul just like Terry the Tool did… Think of your sister, for heaven’s sake! She ain’t going to be happy! Chris (speedily talking, confused): I don’t know who to believe. One side there’s Terry waiting for this, the other side there’s Hikari with the contrary orders, both sending their commands in, I take them, I must choose, the choice makes my life, the choice is the ultimatum, the ultimatum is one of the choices, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! Enrique (smiling, capitalizing on Chris’ state of mind): See? You can’t even shoot me. Chris (enraged at Enrique taking a jab at him, gun in hand): Yeah? Let’s see if I can do it or not! Enrique: Come on, kill me! Chris is about to pull the trigger, but lowers the gun. Chris: You’re right…I can’t do it. And this confront between these two is back to its beginnings. Chris, still, not biased into any path. Enrique: Come on, get out of this stalemate… Shoot me! Chris: Oh yeah, you really want to? Enrique (Now actually intimidated that Chris might shoot): Hey, you know it. It’s your decision. Chris: If you at least were slightly fucking helpful and kind, I’d be biased on my decision… Enrique: WHATEVER! Man, just do what the hell you want to do. Chris grabs the gun and locks the gun, ready to fire. Chris (coldly): I’ve taken my decision. Any final words? Enrique: Well, if this is it, if I’m about to die and God really exists, and if I really get to be in heaven, well, then I’ll die proud. Me voy con Diós. Chris shoves the gun into his forehead, closes his eyes, the gun shaking, and turns his head away…BAM! A sickening shot, a huge blast to the brain, which the camera did not capture on purpose, and Enrique and his chair immediately fall to the ground, a small line of blood coming out of his brain. He did it. Chris drops the gun and starts shivering in front of the corpse of Enrique Lopez. There was an unprecedented feeling that he could do anything in the world. Chris falls back against the wall, as the scene fades to white… And ironically, a single drop of red blood coming down the screen. Enrique is dead. ------------------- Terry, Alex and Trent Walker are relaxing at a special room in the Mansion of Shadows, a room that was never featured before. In the back side of the house, top floor, there’s a little room with walls made entirely out of glass. It stood slightly out of the house, and it looked downright awesome, a VIP room. Trent, the most wrathful of the trio, mumbles on. Trent: Motherfucking fuckstains, ruining my goddamn nutfucking return, what the fuck’s wrong with DXD to get DQed? And those stinking referees… Oh, fuck those nutjobs… THEY started with illegal maneuvers! Goddamnit. I will show them, I WILL SHOW THEM! [In a lower, inaudible tone of voice]… I just need the nectar of life…The sweet nectar of life the Shadows provide… Terry: Eh, what the hell… Look on the bright side. I haven’t suffered one single pin-fall since my return in early January. My matches got chuck away twice, in a no contest, both surprisingly against some of the Dynasty Dummies, but the rest of them, I won. I’ve got three fucking titles around my waist. We’re going to win TONS of CWF Awards, from Stable of the Year to that award that was filled by that guy that “lift off” into heaven. Life’s perfect. Alex: Whatever. Look, the SuperCard Rock-Out Concert… It has sold out. I’ve got so many underground artists that wanted to join in the party that I had to split it in two nights! Terry: WOW! How did you do it? Alex: Pretty simple. I’ve got LED FUCKING ZEPPELIN to join! Trent: …Good…It looks like the nectar of life… Terry: …You’re kidding. Alex: I’m not! Seriously! Our April Fools joke for them is that Paul McCartney is going to play a solo… But we’re just going to prank them! That will please the “Paul is Dead” hoax followers… Terry: How could you? Alex: Well, it hurt, I worked my ass off, but they thought dad’s history was just shocking, our whole family’s story is shocking. Therefore, they’re willing to play one single song to end the concert and send the fans home happy. And, in a tribute, they’ll play “Stairway to Heaven”. Terry: I love you from the bottom of my heart, Alex. Well, it isn’t the original line-up, but the drummer’s son should also do the job. Only one thing worries my mind… Alex: What, James Baker? Terry: Are you kidding? I have no fear of James Baker whatsoever. I’m only waiting for my brother to kill his wife’s brother. Alex: You know, that’s quite self-contradictory, Te- Terry: You’re not paid to talk! Alex (baffled): I’m not paid at- Terry: Just let me be! Trent: … I need it, it’s a part of me, I don’t care what anyone says, I need the nectar of gold… Chris blasts into the door, his hands stained with blood, his spine chilling after his very first murder. In his left hand, there’s the gun he used, as he looks fixatedly into the landscape outside. Terry, oozing with hope, raises his eyes and quickly asks Chris… Terry: So? Did you do it, Chris? Chris: … … …Yeah. Terry: WOOHOO! You fucking rock, Chris! You’re the man! Chris smirks. Terry: Can you describe the post-assassination feeling, the one I can’t describe? Chris: It’s amazing…You feel omnipotent, really. Although- Terry: You’re the man, Chris, you rock, you rule, congratulations. Well now that I’m in a better mood, it’s time to shoot on James Baker…Asshole for life! <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> Wow, it really captivated me. What, you ask? That’s right, James Baker’s promo. Cousin meets cousin by yelling holy shit. Location, ghettaurant. Oozing with, drama. No shit. Afterwards, other random guys seem to be motherfucking douches towards James, despite his eternal crowd favorite-esque behavior. Again. A little love scene between Danielle and Baker, who can’t do it in private and have to look like lovebirds on camera, for fuck’s sake. Wow, just wow, I am sooo DVRing this promo, tying myself up to a chair, turning it on, and forcing my eye cells to die watching this 20-minute long piece of crap…For the sake of Jupiter, I’ve got to end this once and for all. Thank SuperCard. SuperCard is the only PPV run by the CWF that was able to air five times, in some days, six times. Therefore, it is considered the biggest PPV event of the year and of mainstream wrestling. You’re waiting for me to take my daily jab at Mark Xamin, but no, it’s SuperCard, the most electrifying arena in the damn planet, and we need some change around here. After SuperCard, I won’t have to deal with James Baker anymore. And, while that is great, because he’s the biggest EVER pain in the ass the world has ever witnessed, I’ll also miss the times where I consistently whipped his ass with no mercy, our long rivalry…Speaking of which, I’ve got a pretty fitting tagline for it. “From a roll of quarters to murder: Nine months of making Baker the Madman’s bitch” Look at it, look at our feud and its history. For example, look at where we are in this moment. James Baker is meeting cousins in cheap third-rate restaurants, while I’ve got three titles, a SuperCard Rockout Concert in a sold-out arena, I’ve been undefeated since January, and I’m awesome… Wow, with just this piece of info you can understand who’s the better man in this confront. Really. I do everything better, wrestling, destroying, making an impact, and even, yes, murdering. White murders top ghetto murderers… By the way, not a little condolence in your heart when you knew Enrique was about to die? You make me sick to my stomach, Baker. I cried out my soul when Terry Richards Sr. or even Brooke died. You just said “‘ight, playa, he’ll be in our hearts” with no passion whatsoever. You’re sick, sick, SICK! I shouldn’t be forced to a padded cell, you should. I should spend my day there on my own will. Although, I am forced to. I’d go there for free, you know. I am a proud maniac…You’re just a self-degrading faggot. I am the one they call Dr. Feelgood…I’m going to make you feel ALRIGHT! When you started speaking, I grabbed my James Baker Puke-a-thon bucket…Didn’t break my 9 time record, being just on the edge of the record with an astonishing eight. Don’t ask what, you know it. James tried to pretend he actually is sorry for Enrique, which he isn’t. Look, my father just died. The funeral is this week. We have a room in the mansion in exclusive tribute to him, you know. You? Well, perhaps you don’t have money for a decent enough funeral or tribute…Whatever. The Richards family has their own section in New York. My mother Vicky is buried there, my deceased girlfriend Brooke is next to her, and Terry Richards Sr. will be proudly hailed and buried next to my loves. You don’t give a shit about anyone, you’re like the gangster version of L7, you and your filthy “don’t give a fuck” attitude… I heard rumors that Enrique will be buried there. Sad…Just put your grave away from my family. You want the damn body? I got your e-mail, which was requested by Playgirl readers and appeared in the magazine – Yeah…Playgirl, with a mostly homosexual viewership, you know where you’ve been - and I’ve shipped the exact place where Enrique’s body is dumped. I also contacted Brian Adams, honey, so you better make it in time into the place, or else… Enrique won’t see it cumming. I find Baker very funny, pretty much due to his dumbness. He says he was a hated man when he came to the CWF…So, what is he now? Loved? Like I see, not much. Everyone’s pretty much shitting on the lowest dog in the porch. No, I didn’t come as fan favorite, I came as a man in an invisible mask. The real Terry was a douche, but I had never shown the people at home that side. You know, when you’re on TV, you try to look nice, innocent, and respectful. You know, because the entire world is watching. But, then, I grew weary of wearing the fucking mask, I took it off and revealed that I was a murderer. I went on a sick killing streak. A doctor, a janitor, a movie star, a priest, all in less than a week. Murders continued, culminating on my last real wave, Battle to Survive, where I took five souls with me. See? That is real Terry. Real Terry also does stuff like... …Whooping a certain ghetto ass. Now, you complain how I call your son downright retarded, but then, you call my brother a retard AND you threaten my cat! Seriously, James, you’re a sick fuck. Look into his face for like five minutes, feel this unusually nice cat getting on your lap – Well, not YOUR lap, you know, but, a stranger’s lap – and snuggling in a cute way of sleeping. Because of renouncing to your white roots, you’re considered black, therefore, you will never know the good things in life, you’ll just be an incompetent underdog. I’m a decent human being, Baker, I just have mental problems. Yeah, I’m straightforward, my brain is not normal, I have trouble! But you, on the other hand, are perfectly normal – from a “straight-from-your-mother’s-cunt-and-not-the-current-Baker” point of view –, and you should behave like such. Instead, you attempt such feats as celebrity jokes. Tiger Woods should just go rampant on your ass. Oh wait, that was a bad joke too. Yeah, we can’t make good jokes, only in a while, you can never do them. Well, you know I demand respect, so please give it to me. “GIVE IT TO ME, NEIL!” Oh, wait, can’t do Family Guy jokes either. Anyhow, I find it funny because in your so-called really hated days, Bobby Crane was rooting from you from the deepest pit in his heart. Now, you lash on him, so he treats you like crap. Really intelligent and social, Baker boy is. Fast-forward sometime in Baker’s monologue and you’ll find the word “fucknut”. Wow. Really? You can’t make your insults? Well, here’s a tutorial. Grab a prefix, - fuck, shit, nut or suck – and add the main insult afterwards – nut, stain, head, whore, load, fuck, and the list goes on- Seriously, it works! Even nut nut can be adapted to nutty nut nut, which sounds cool. You can create insults such as fuckwhore, shitload, suckstain, nuthead, whatever. Choose one and move on… Fucknut. I WENT THERE! Summing it all up, I will win. I will come to SuperCard and definitely end this chapter of my life. Oh, and the possibility of me being beat by YOU? AW HELL TO THE NO! <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> Fade to black… Edited by That Thunder Guy, Jun 29 2010, 11:33 PM.
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| RickRampage | Jun 29 2010, 09:13 AM Post #2 |
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You need to change the part of your gimmick where you've murdered people. If you had IED and murdered people, you'd be in an mental health hospital; so, I can live with being a convicted, violent felon on parole or something; but not murder. If you change this, you have my vote. |
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| Shot | Jun 29 2010, 11:33 AM Post #3 |
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Forgot to add...It's not that simple. When he went to court, the judge gave him the very unusual punishment of spending six daily hours locked in a padded cell. I know, kinda weird, but whatever lol. It's all on my Wikia page - http://ewrestling.wikia.com/wiki/Terry_Richards Should I edit it nonetheless? |
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| AC Thunder | Jun 29 2010, 02:55 PM Post #4 |
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We already asked one guy to edit his profile under very similar circumstances, so in order for us to stay consistent, I would politely ask for the change. ![]() Once that happens, you've also got my vote. Also, I remember you from the Total J Cup, so familiar faces are always welcome. |
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| Shot | Jun 29 2010, 03:48 PM Post #5 |
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That's okay, guys, changed it. ![]() Hey, you must be AC Thunder, right? I KNEW I had seen that moniker somewhere else!
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| RickRampage | Jun 29 2010, 04:16 PM Post #6 |
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Welcome Aboard |
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| AC Thunder | Jun 29 2010, 06:15 PM Post #7 |
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Yep, I'd be AC. Also, welcome aboard.
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