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~6/14/10~!!!BREAKING NEWS!!! Extreme Celebration was exactly what it was. Many memorable things happened, which truly raised the bar in UUW. Peter Kaymackian appeared and announced that he was now part of the UUW roster. Oliver Creed with a massive upset, outlasting four others, even defeating the legendary 'overrated and hated' D.C to become the first ever Ultimate Impact Division champion. Prophet and Chase Jacobson picked up a hard earned victory over Jason Rains and KxN, only for Chase to double cross The Prophet in the end. Kevin Hardaway made his in ring return, defeating James Preston in a falls count anywhere match for Preston's custom title. Afterwards, Kevin was laid out by long time rival, and the newest member of the UUW lockerroom, Spike Kane. In the main event, two men who have been at war finally went one on one, inside Hell in a Cell. Zack Crash managed to catch The Virus off guard to become the Underground Heavyweight champion. Tune in next week, as the fallout of Extreme Celebrations is at hand, on the Wednesday Night Replay!
Ultimate Underground Wrestling
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1. Zack Crash
2. KxN
3. The Virus
4. Chase Jacobson
5. The Prophet
6. Kevin Hardaway
This week's favored choice for title fame: Chase Jacobson Reason: Picking up a huge win in tag action over Jason Rains and KxN, before betraying his partner, he is proving to be quite the hot comodity. There is little doubt that we see gold in this man's future
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1: My Conquest...
2: Paint The Doors
3: Time to Shine...
4: One Step Closer
5: Someday

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Paint The Doors
Topic Started: Jun 12 2010, 06:08 PM (792 Views)
KxN
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|_Onix Song_|

How do you know for sure he’s here?


+=+KxN+=+

He’s here alright. A friend of mine tipped me, and he knows he isn’t one to lie to an innocent face. He used to work at a hellacious breeding ground like this one. It’s blood money, dirty paper. I can’t have that going on Onix, not while I’m breathing and living the sweet air of righteous lucidity.


|_Onix Song_|

I worry about your well being at times like this.


+=+KxN+=+

Don’t pull that mental illness shit on me again Onix, please. I know what I’m doing, and why I’m doing it.


|_Onix Song_|

Well as usual, I’m the tag along. So I’ll wait here, while you go ape shit in a charity center. Because this bull is just as “important” as what you pulled with Stephen isn’t it.

KxN raises an index finger to her face, physically warning her not to tread the water with him. He has a malicious aura feasting inside his gaze, she takes the hint and looks away with an angst. Displeased with her attitude KxN leaves the car they are both sitting in as it lays in darkness amidst a large charity center in Reno, Nevada. The very same place where deals of over the counter drugs are taking hold and various donated items are being put on sale cheaply over the internet and multiple black markets. The cloud of inhibitions has loomed over this building for far too long now. And the knight in crimson armor has come to end this.

+=+KxN+=+

Stay in the car.


|_Onix Song_|

Your not my father.


+=+KxN+=+

Your not my kid either, so don’t fucking act like one.

K heads to the back entrance of the center in a pitter patter espionage keeping as silent as humanly possible until Onix(with her smart aleck ways) decides to blast some Britney Spears for the fun of things. K vividly turns to the vehicle in a flustered sneer and puts his finger to his lips soundlessly implying her to turn it off. She flips him off and turns it all the way down as she starts to sulk amongst herself.

He has made it to the back door. And with his trusty crowbar, he pries the lock bolt to click and creaks the door open. There is a single light flickering in a corner of the premises. The night, although young outside, seeks guidance as it taunts the moon to keep an eye on the world, allowing men and women alike to rest easy. But for this night, the moon is only a fraction of luminescence, and this charity destination, is covered in the night’s girth.


(Voice)

Is someone there? We’re closed!


Hearing this KxN re-locks the door behind him and takes cover behind a pile of canned food boxes while an older musk smelling gentleman walks in a shuffle to the same door K had entered. A cane in his left hand he checks the racket. Remaining hidden the man doesn’t see K. As the person turns around to go back to his duties K ricochets to his back and covers one hand over his mouth while dragging him precariously to the individual lit corner. It was a simple study space, an office of sorts, money of all amounts lay perfectly stacked on a desk. K sits him down on a chair and whispers.

+=+KxN+=+

Your going to answer a few questions I have for you. If you scream for help, or do anything ultimately STUPID…your going to wish you hadn’t. Understood?


The man nods while K removes his hand and ties him against the chair with a roll of duct tape found in a drawer from the desk. The old gent kept his word and said nothing as he was being tied down. The eerie vibe of the area raises causing chills to run down both their necks. The strange silence becomes almost unreal while K analyzes the situation and plans his next move.

+=+KxN+=+

You know, this place, this sanctuary, used to be a foundation for children and families to come in hopes of a used doll, or an old watch. Because jobs just weren’t the same as they used to be. They respected men like you, like your co workers, expecting good men, and decent people. Instead they get this botanical fantasy of riff raff and plunder. They get weak hearted pups like you taking advantage of a system and using it for personal establishment. THIS….


K thrashes the neatly planted ten, twenty ,fifty, ONE HUNDRED dollar bills all over the floor. The man’s eyes tear up as he gasps watching the corrupted cash fall to the stained cement. KxN then lights a match derived from the pocket of his jet black hoodie and sets the trail of money on fire. It’s not a big fire, but just enough to prove a point to the man. There were no smoke alarms in this old building, so he was safe from any unwanted attention. A real genius would know to scope out the present before you plan out the future. But KxN couldn’t give a damn about the present or the future, he just bluffs.

+=+KxN+=+

Is for rejects who can’t find their way out of a paper bag! Inheritance fuck jobs who don’t know how to save their money and keep it secure for more important adversities. I don’t care how old you are, what your name is, or how you even thought you could get away with this conspiracy, but what your going to do, is return every item you sold, including the drugs, to your fellow customers, and tell each of your employee’s what happened and why you did it. Do you understand?


(Man)

Hahaha….do you know how it feels to be the scum of the earth? It feels like your heart is being ripped from your chest, and the only life you’ll ever have is a bubble bath with your favorite magazine. It’s god’s greatest validation for a torn man. It was Adam’s curse, because Eve was just too damn beautiful.

+=+KxN+=+

I don’t need your stories. I need your word.

(Man)

Son, I’m afraid I just can’t give it to you. Were you hurt, when you saw me and your mother waste our hard earned paychecks on pills and fixes? Did it become the end of the boy we raised? I think it did. I think you were very hurt.


+=+KxN+=+

I’m giving you a very small amount of time to give me your answer or this whole evil nest of trickery burns. I told you I don’t care who you are, your going…to give me…an answer.


The man just smiles and laughs in a whimsical cough. KxN lights another match and begins burning it right in front of his wrinkled face. Sweat from the blaze pours like rain from KxN’s head. The scene is both tragic and bliss as the two men talk in such dangerous commodity. You can smell the smoke begin to build, and feel their vicious intentions. A circle of hellfire and brimstone couldn’t keep these two from making such epic conversation.

(Man)

You don’t see it. You don’t know what it means to touch rock bottom, all the way until the lowest and deepest soil crumbles underneath your feet. You can only dig so much until you reach a molten core of sudden death. And your hands, the hands I touched as you wiggled in my arms, and your feet, the feet I tickled when they ached. You don’t remember any of it. Because when your tangled in a web of radical beliefs, you can never escape. Your mother was a saint K, I ruined her, it was all my grand doing! Haha! I addicted her, I was the vessel to her downfall. Now you have to face the truth. Addiction is a real kick in the ass son.

+=+KxN+=+

You are nothing to me! Nothing!

KxN wraps his hands around the man’s throat and begins cutting off his oxygen. His strength overwhelms the chair bringing him into the burning ash of the dollar bills scathing his supposed father’s head into the pit of the flames scorching his face with bitter ends while his body slowly starts to disintegrate to black ash and the roof turns into water. Like a brandished waterfall the roof collapses down and extinguishes the conniption of flames, it also falls in a graceful swoop all around KxN, but not touching him, as if an invisible orb is encircling his body. Grace is showing it’s colors. K looks around, hypnotized by it all. Floating memories of his start to paste themselves all over the roofless walls. Everything he has ever known is a fantastic timeline leading to who he is today. Then he see’s the golden definition.

+=+KxN+=+

Me…I’m the guilty one….they made…me.

Most of the flashing memorabilia of images are when he was sitting and watching his parents clueless as to their actions while they snort a line on their living room table. Old cartoons blasting on the television. Static engulfed the screen half the time.

Why daddy? Why mommy?

He stands watching. Is it sugar? Is it food? K was always hungry. He wanted to try it so bad, so damn bad like the last piece of licorice in a glass jar of eminems. Taste the joy, envy the lust.

Go to your room boy.

Go upstairs, play with your toys child!


He didn’t want to. He wanted to know more of this secret substance. He wanted the delicious treat!

+=+KxN+=+

I’m an…abomination.


Memory after memory after memory, so many, yet no time in this extravagant dream to remember them all. But he see’s now, he see’s he isn’t always the ultimate being to the befouled poem of society. He is only a mere note in a glove box. The invisible bubble around him breaks, the water closes in on him. He’s drowning!

No more hope.

He cannot survive.

It takes him in.

It takes him in…..

Whack!

He awakens from his short lived dream after being dragged out of his car by Onix and hitting his head on the driver’s side door on the way. It appears he was sitting in his vehicle with the exhaust on inside his closed garage, but was he really trying to off himself? Onix would never allow such assumptions. She is barely able to get him out of that tiny Camaro and into his house laying him lightly down on his couch. He coughs up heaps of smoke as she sobs in prudent wariness.

|_Onix Song_|

I don’t even know what the hell to say to you.

+=+KxN+=+

Nothing. I know what it looked like in there, and it was just that. That’s it.


|_Onix Song_|

But you-


+=+KxN+=+

But nothing. People kept telling me, fans moreso, that god existed, that there was this outer worldly heaven, a wonderland awaiting us all after we pass on. I needed proof. I needed to believe something besides the law in which we all crafted from our selfish little minds.


|_Onix Song_|

And?


+=+KxN+=+

And I didn’t see god. But I did see something. It scared the life straight out of me. Everything I’ve known is all a blur. For some cynical reason, I seem to feel the urge to walk away from the road I currently tread upon. To find a hole somewhere, and lay in it forever. I am broken. I am not me.

|_Onix Song_|

So your telling me, a blonde haired high school dropout, that you weren’t just trying to kill yourself in there like a leper on crack.


+=+KxN+=+

Exactly.


|_Onix Song_|

I guess I really am that stupid to you.

Like the youthful evangelist she is, she storms away with a roll of her eyes and a huff of her breath into K’s bedroom, slamming the door behind her to have a good cry. K may pretend he doesn’t know her emotions, but he does. Living with such a difficult being like himself is one dose too many. A roller coaster of endless twists and turns with no seat belts or chest guards to keep you from falling. He has never not stood on shaky grounds. And while she remains in the pond of swans, KxN is enjoying a swim within the lake of crocodiles and piranhas. Danger and risk never felt so right before. Sometimes you just have to take the almighty plunge to feel the fear. And now, within the comfort of his own home, and a crying girlfriend locked in solitude, let us start this interesting silhouette.

+=+KxN+=+

Chase, I’ve heard enough from the talk in the back, that your going to come from the rebound, end my streak, and take the ranks by storm. Their jealous of the proper human I am, and they don’t want to see me achieve universal stardom. Their power hungry barbarians without their axes! But I’m smarter, I’m too clever to contract under dog syndrome, because you will never become the machine of a man that you are working so hard to be. Do you know what it’s like to be living under a constant radar, to be watched by so many people in wait, to see if I can keep my sanity, and not make them tumble off the regal vine? It’s a throbbing pain so immense it’s like your brain is singing in an oven, it’s the stress of infamy and fame Jacobson, it’s our disease. I not only have a career, I have an entire ideal, a vision I must uphold, you have your career and your ego to keep at bay, and that very pinnacle is laughable to me.


To think critical is to become masterful over thinking at all. You can’t go back on something you have already decided, if you do, then it’s treason in its finest form. If you were birthed from the womb as an arrogant chauvinist then such will be your entire life pulse. If you were birthed without noise, without shedding a tear or squeaking a cry, then so shall be you, a silent assassin in the winds of change. KxN is a cleansable balance. Arrogance and simplicity, a deadly unison.

+=+KxN+=+

I fight desperately, sporadically even, to keep a paycheck and live as that of a normal weakened man after a hard day’s work. When you hold….something the most dearest to you….and you see the meaning of such meager creation, not just a toy, or a piece of paper, but an iconic object beckoning your behalf, it’s not just something, it’s yours. You found it, you made it, you…shifted it into an item of great importance. But will you add it to your ever expanding collection? Will you destroy it out of spite? Will you hand it off to a friend or sibling? Offspring maybe? You decide where that single totem of greatness will go. YOU decide Chase, YOU choose, it’s very destiny! I…often think about where I wronged my father, and how I stayed strong to be your judge here today, then I figured, it must be because men like you need wake up calls like myself to show you a brighter genesis. You must be forced to bequeath upon a deadly venison to be shown the inspiring flash of a guilt free dynasty.


We do not live in China, and we do not ride horses. We do not wield samurai swords, and we do not wear any type of oriental armor to keep us safe. A dynasty means a sequence of powerful leaders, in the same family. The omega goal here, is to make all of political society, a family free of any secret sovereigns, of any squelching loot, or of any broad horizon lies. We walk together in a line, awaiting our ring leader to guide us home. We are not like the Nazi’s, whom march one by one in a row as their told, perked up against the wall, and prepare their fatal deaths by being shot through bridle bullets by the US embassy. Brains all over the concrete. They did not follow rules. They burned the holy and indigenous, marking them in stripes to make sure their cattle are accounted for. Nazi’s ruled the grime of the underground, until the heroes of America shot them dead.

Now the jews own coffee shops and salad bars, pizza parlors and jewelry stores, apartment buildings and kosher industries! Their thriving while we’re losing employment and begging for freebies. Money has become the soul purpose of turning good people into bad eggs. The color green will never be as graceful or merciful as it once was, it will always just be….sick. The color of puke, marijuana, army tanks, and ogres! Sick!

+=+KxN+=+

I'm going to be honest Chase, to you and your little african american novelty action figurine, that from here on out, this trek to the dawning paradise you "will" arrive at, is only a pity fuck because management has to keep the rookies happy. While you play nice at your no women allowed tea party, I'm playing with the big boys at the poker table. I'm the most versatile at what I do, I don't fly kites in the sunshine and have picnics for giggles and gags, I take this profession....VERY....VERY....seriously. I'm bringing the hardest game you have ever played, one that I always win at. Because monopoly is for pussies. Speaking of, are you keeping Mesias nice and wet for me Prophet? The slob could use another cherry being popped. I'm sure Chase tried, but even his failure to launch runs in the gene pool.


There has been so many gimmicks already that K has seen, his may even be called common, but gimmicks are only mockeries of who the man behind the contract truly is. K wants to keep classic couture alive. Call him old fashioned, but when he is about to enter the ring with another top shit unknown, you can't help but strike the actual victim while the wound cuts deep. This one's going in real deep.

+=+KxN+=+

Who are you anyway "Tyrone". Were you raised a pretty boy, perhaps a ghost, the nerd in the back that nobody cared to notice. Maybe you were Mr. Popular, the star athlete on your school sports team like my old friend Travis was. Or are you a confused tragedy just WAITING to be ended. Underneath your plastic skin, your surgical snips, your roided up renditions, I see a shallow rebel just going with something he was told to read off a prompt. The soul saving pimp is a long thought out stick figure massacre on a few index cards. It's a waste of good entertainment. That makes you the lowest sucker I get the pleasure of busting open in tag team sanctimony. You know what I do with the scripts I'm given? The writing I'm told to read? I burn them and use the leftover scraps as thank you gifts to all the terrible producers in the back. I need no introduction, I need no plans, I only need freedom.


Actually, you can never really be free....only partially captured. We're not free if we're stuck on this pathetic excuse for a planet slaughtering animals and eating fat injected heart attack patties. Fat asses and big tits, the american dream right? If only the golden arches had a personality to them, it would be a talking scale telling the beef burglars to run off and buy some lettuce. Turn the frown upside down, fries and a shake make the bad monsters go away.

+=+KxN+=+

When you live on my standards, you kinda learn to be a bit more free. It pays to be relentless Prophet, or did you get the memo? Churches are no longer full, children are no longer wearing pants up to their stomach and dress shirts buttoned so tight their necks resemble turkey chins. They learned living on the wild side is just a bit more rewarding than playing in the three foot pool. But I always forget Prophet, your still using floaters and training wheels with that giant goblin of yours following you at your every whim trying to act hardcore. So you, your goblin, and your little playmate Chase, can all bunk up and turn on the discovery channel, I heard their airing a marathon of the human anatomy, keep your eyes on the birdie children, and watch how babies are made.

You've been judged.

Now to go and comfort the female.

Mankind weeps again.

Cya!
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Self Respect//Self Image.

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