Chivalry is Dead: Kevin Hardaway vs. Mr Rottentreats

Chivalry is Dead: Kevin Hardaway vs. Mr Rottentreats

Postby Peoples Choice » Sun May 15, 2016 10:13 pm

Kevin Hardaway vs. Mr Rottentreats
This match will be contested under Chivalry is Dead rules.

1.This will be a no disqualification, pinfalls anywhere, no holds barred match.
2.The code of respect does not have to be adhered to.

RP deadline 00:01 GMT Sunday 29th May
Strat deadline 00:01 GMT Monday 30th May
Segment deadline 00:01 GMT Thursday 2nd June
Max 2 RP's.



*All RP's for this match to be posted in this thread as replies, please change the subject line of your post to your RP title. Thread will be locked once the deadline is passed.*
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Re: Chivalry is Dead: Kevin Hardaway vs. Mr Rottentreats

Postby CarnyConnect » Wed Jun 01, 2016 5:00 am

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A pair of patched clown shoes scoot playfully across a ring canvas.

“Every time I lace up my clown shoes and walk down any aisle, I fight. Point blank. It doesn’t matter the name of the promotion at the top of the marquee, I’m coming prepared to fight.”

The clown shoes disappear. The sound of metal latches is picked up by the camera microphone. Treats voice bellows; the clown shoes now back in frame.

“Lately, my biggest fight has been against my inability to accept what I am. No matter how many times I’ve said it aloud, I still haven’t accepted it. And after looking at the forwarded email from Vaughn Ronie Jr. about hashtag One Last Time. I believe it’s about time that I do accept it. Hell, I kind of have to, considering I am their newly crowned World Heavyweight champion.”

The WARPED World Heavyweight Championship belt drops to the canvas in front of the clown shoes.

“I’m their longest reigning Evolution champion.”

The WARPED Evolution Championship Belt drops to the right of the World Championship belt.

“I’m one half of their longest reigning World Tag Team Champions.”

Although currently deemed vacant, a WARPED World Tag Team Championship belt drops to the left of the World Championship belt.

“Heavy is the head of the clown on which lies the Triple Crown, or some super poetic bullshit like that.”

A familiar ill-kempt clown sits cross legged behind the Triple Crown of WARPED Wrestling. Adjusting the camera; he continues.

“The WARPED Triple Crown, that is! Or, as I like to call it. The never ending championship belt of WARPED Wrestling.”

Busy fastening the snaps of the championship belts to one another; the braggadocios clown continues.

“In case you don’t know, I’m Mr. Rottentreats! Now that you know who I am, it’s time to find out what I am. And that my loyal viewership, is WARPED. I am WARPED! And, it’s about time I accept it. It’s time to stop fighting it. It’s time to quit being ashamed of my roots in the ring. It’s time I stop pawning the beginning of my career off as my mourning my grandfather. High time I tell the truth. I love to make people hurt. Sometimes, this leads to blood loss, be it buckets or mere droplets.”

Reaching up to adjust the eye patch covering his left eye; Treats smirks.

“Sometimes, it’s feelings. A lot of feelings get hurt when you end up across the ring from me. Win, or lose. Win, you have to deal with knowing that this clown gave you a run for your money. Lose, well you know how that goes.”

The Pagliacci of Professional wrestling winks with his right eye.

“All because of the whole clown thing, of course.”

Propping the championship belts against his legs; Treats continues.

"Well, this clown is coming to Southampton for Pro-Wrestling FRONTIER, hashtag One Last time! And they’ve got me in a Chivalry is Dead match against none other than Kevin Hardaway! What does the Triple Crown of WARPED have to do with any of this? Everything! And they made a grave mistake when they declared Chivalry Dead this time. See, with a name like Rottentreats, you tend to be forced to live up to it. Whether you want to, or not. Add me being the flag bearer of WARPED Rasslin’ to the mix and the match types get crazier. From Dog Collars to F’nX. Even a good ‘ol Barbwire Island and that’s just in WARPED. However, it’s quite obvious by the gold I possess that I don’t just survive these types of matches, I thrive in these types matches. Just ask Jackson.”

The clown displays the gnarly scar on his left triceps.

“After all, he’s responsible for this lovely reminder of one of my Evolution title defenses. Old bastard hip tossed me into a pane of glass! Sliced my arm up real nice. I ain’t even mad. This scar gets my wife’s neden wetter than the everglades. Digression aside.”

Treats wild green mane bounces about as the clown chortles.

“Kevin Hardaway. I hope you’re ready. I’m riding my unicycle into Southampton Guildhall on June Fourth to paint a masterpiece on the FRONTIER Canvas, one last time. And I’m gonna use your blood to do it.”

Mr. Rottentreats cradles his WARPED championship titles; cackling. The video irises out on his winking right eye.
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