Post by Psychotic Circus on Jan 21, 2013 19:31:03 GMT -7
-Jerry Nate darted from the ring, a smirk so ever across his face as he tried to evade the man brandishing the pulp hook. Big Jim came charging in swaying the dastardly armament around as if he was not frightened of no murder charges. Neither was Jerry.-
"You'd think that Jerry would know how to handle himself here, he's presumably been in a few knife fights..."
"I know, but he's just running around the ring...what's his game?"
-The Shotgun Kid corralled the rage motivated bull towards the time keeper's spot and bounded above the feeble support wall. Big Jim lurched over as Charlie Coors got away from the happenings as fast as his Jew fro' would allot as Jim viewed around for Jerry however saw nothing but a hole expansive enough for a man to crawl through as Cletus was coming down the entrance ramp rasping at his ally.-
"HEY! Big Jim! That shit house rat is over here!"
-Jerry was over at the other flank of the ring, pulling out what looked like a bed frame from underneath. "...Inbred asshole!" he clamored as he hauled out a Jaggeroth regular in hardcore matches, the black-hearted Wall-o-weapons. A plethora of weapons were affixed to the bed frame, bound with twine. Cletus tried advancing in for an assist to hold down the rascally Nate for his tag partner as he came around the corner with his meat pulp, leaving the Caged in Beast defend quickly. Before Cletus could do anything, he took a punt to his baby pumper from Jerry before the Satisfying One rotated and grabbed something off his wall of weapons and raised it, dropping Cletus with a shower of glass from a beer bottle before Big Jim could arrive. The actual Logging Crew member in this match was met with a hand full of jagged glass from Jerry, beckoning it at him. Jerry's grin turned sadistic, this wasn't an even playing ground, but the battiness flaring of his sweating face forced Big Jim to realize that he was just sick enough to be totally confident.-
"Oh my...Big Jim has the meat pulp! And Jerry has an improvised knife!"
"The FCC is going to have our asses for this...."
-Each man stood unflinching, hastily conceived threats and go a-heads discharging from their mouths before Big Jim tossed an assault together with swinging first at the glass in Jerry's hand, crumbling the remainder of the bottle in Jerry's rigid clutch. "Oh fuck!" was all that came out of The Shotgun Kid's orifice as he turned and tottered away, enclosing his now bleeding hand, but Big Jim wasn't finished there. Jerry stilled around the corner, tugging the shattered glass out of his hand and knowing additional torment was approaching his way, along with not acting alarmed when he was clubbed over the head with the meat pulp and hitting the ground on his hands and knees. Soon enough Big Jim came to end Jerry's misery and applied his foot on Jerry's posterior as the back of the curve on the meat pulp met the front of Jerry's neck. The Lunatic Lumberjack worked his hand back together with in foot down together as Jerry made the mistake of lifting his arms off the ground, his back arching like he was a bow about to be strung.-
"Big Jim is being the bigger man tonight! I hope he chokes the life out of that Satisfying Soothsayer!"
-Jerry Nate tried hanging on to consciousness as best he could, but Big Jimmy was against that motion as he pulled back on the hook. Jerry was shuttering while trying to pull back on the hook to release the strangle hold but his eyes were slowly growing dimmer. Big Jim was looking for one last big tug on Jerry's neck to finish the job before he heard screams of agony coming from his tag team partner. The camera panned in to catch Jim's expression as he turned, his eyes catching only a glimpse at the group of festering arms that had reached out from underneath the ring and snatched up his Logging partner at the legs and waist before they pulled him underneath the ring.-
"Don't look away Jim! Damn it! I knew Jerry wouldn't be coming alone tonight! Finish the match and then go looking for your partner!"
"He looked away, he dropped that meat pulp...things are about to go south from here..."
-Big Jim had sprung into action, leaping at the ring and lifting the apron but saw nothing. His hands went through his hair and pulled back the skin on his head, making his eye popping even more dramatic at this point as he slowly turned to Jerry who was resting against the security barrier. He raised a finger as he pointed and laughed at Jim's shocked expression, a little blood splattering the floor in front of him while he sat.-
"Hahahha! Ah! It hurts to laugh now..."
-Jerry barely winced from his seated position as the guarantied beating came his way, shouting for the whereabouts of his tag team partner and planting a boot in Jerry's gut. The cuff of Jerry's shirt was grabbed and his head brought up to attention as Jim continued to question the Nebraskan Psychopath.-
"WHERE IS HE!?"
"....down the rabbit hole and screaming straight into hell!"
-Big Jim gasped as Jerry's bleeding hand slapped him over the top of his knee and skidded across it, causing the Big Man to limp back a bit as a surprising amount of blood leaked from his leg. Jerry's lips parted as the grin showed over his tobacco bleached choppers, his palm slapped over Big Jim's forehead, miraculously causing another squirt of the red stuff to slide down the Lumberjack's face. Big Jim wasn't sure how this was happening while he fell to the ground after another slap to his ribs caused another surprise stigmata across his skin. A quick boot to the forehead dropped the Lumberjack long enough for Jerry to dig into his bleeding glove and pull out the last shard of glass from it.-
"You should've played nice! I was going to play nice...but now, oooooooooooooh now you've got yourself a fucking war!"
-Jerry was screaming down on Big Jim while placing a foot over the Wall-O-Weapons and grabbing for one of the sinister tools across it and tugging something off, the fans in the arena cheered/gasped in anticipation after the selection had been made. All Big Jim could hear was the revving of a small engine as Jerry lifted up his selection at full throttle.-
"HE'S GOT A BUY-SUCKLE!...Oh wait, no, it's a weed whacker."
-The Shotgun Kid stalked the Lumberjack, revving the throttle on the whacker as Jim tried to get up to his feet and run, trying to get away from the Psychotic Redneck but it proved futile as the Lumberjack slipped on the mat and hit it across his belly, the sound of twelve thousand RPM's screaming behind him. All it took from Jerry was to pull the throttle back and lift up before slamming the weed whacker down causing (Writer's note: Welcome to GHW BTW) strips of skin to come peeling off Big Jim's back, leaving the engraving of a properly whipped slave into his flesh, for in Jerry's mind, that's all Big Jim was.-
Post by Cletus & Big Jim on Jan 23, 2013 21:12:04 GMT -7
Big Jim howls like a wounded animal and rolls through the ropes, his body now a road map of pain connected by a bloody interstate system. Jerry drops the lawn care equipment and it coughs and sputters before going silent, re-filling the arena with its own noise in a way that almost seems artificial absent the motorized din. Heading off Jim, as he makes an attempt to access the wall of weapons, Nate gives the blood-soaked birler a stiff kick in the chops before forcibly introducing his head to a florescent light tube, amidst a shower of shards and dust. With a spool of athletic tape, drawn from nearby, or perhaps conjured with the use of his seemingly otherworldly powers, Jerry seals the wounds on his hand. Then, taping sticky-side out, he creates his newest weapon. Collecting the broken glass from about the ring, the taped fist becomes a punishing gauntlet of the worst kind. Sizing up Jim for a truly heinous variant of the famed Shotgun punch, the Satisfying One's eyes take on a baleful stare.
Dear sweet Jesus, this is way beyond hardcore…
Jerry Nate, showing you why he is the King of the Deathmatch; Big Jim might be able to intimidate the moose and the backwoods boys, but this is GHW and The Satisfying One don’t scare easy.
Big Jim barely ducks a swing, which, had it connected, would have surely ended the bout. Thinking quickly, he plants an elbow to the base of Jerry's skull and hooks a Russian legsweep. Both men's backs now colliding with the concrete lead Jim to immediately curse his ingenuity, as the fresh wounds on his back now radiate pain through his whole body. He is slow to rise and the Nebraskan Juggernaut is hot on his heels. With sinister glee Nate scrapes his glass-encrusted hand across Jim's raw shoulder blades, causing another roar of animalistic anguish to resonate throughout the arena. From there, the hard rocking hedonist jettisons the implement, lest he injure himself, and applies a cobra clutch, before sweeping the legs himself and once again driving both men to the floor. Once more Jerry is the first to rise and he now grabs a weapon of a different sort. From under the ring he produces a guitar and, crouching down next to his opponent, he begins to croon...
welcome to the abandoned land come on in child, take my hand here there's no work or play only one bill to pay there's just five words to say as you go down, down, down you're gonna burn in hell oh, burn in hell
Glam metal? I never knew Jerry had it in him.
Hey, glam metal is awesome! I’d so fuck the chicks in Poison!
Those were guys Colin…
Having grown tired of singing, and seeing Big Jim beginning to find his bearings, The Satisfying One satisfies himself by braining the perverse pulp peeler with the instrument. Jim's knees buckle and he crumples slightly, before receiving another blow to the cranium that sends him to his back once again. Jerry heaves his foe back into the ring and proceeds to collect a staple gun from his assortment of armaments. Before the fiendish fastener firearm can be deployed, Jim turns over and huge flash flies from his hand. Jerry stumbles backward, blinded by the fireball and cursing in agony. The man from Black Rapids staggers to his feet and delivers a sloppy DDT, which leaves both men on the mat.
Jim throws a Hail Mary fireball, he needed that Al.
Positively Fuzzie, I’m just not sure that this match hasn’t taken the best out of him already.
We’ve seen him and his partner hurt before.
Not like this we haven’t; the guy looks two bullet holes short of a drive-by.
Struggling to his feet, Jim tries to set up for a piledriver, but Nate bucks like a rampaging bull moose and throws Jim in a back body drop. He then clamours up to the high rent district and plunges a diving elbow into Jim’s sternum. Sitting up, with a self-satisfied sneer on his face, Jerry Nate is caught totally unaware by the roar of a chain saw beneath him. He clamours away, mere seconds before the blade rips through the mat and slashes a jagged gash in the squared circle. Through the hole, like some bearded, plaid-attired lumber baby, comes Cletus, wide-eyed, covered in scratches and blood. He anxiously peers into the hole, sure that a legion of the damned will return again to bay for his blood and precious bodily fluids. The cagey corn-husker looks in suspicion, while Jim is only just now beginning to move, totally unaware of his partner’s return. Cletus turns his eye-popping gaze toward Nate and points an accusing finger. Jerry has a finger for Cletus too and soon the two bruisers are slinging lefts and rights to the roar of the crowd. The impromptu brawl screeches to a halt when the ravenous Cletus decides to take inspiration from his erstwhile hosts, biting Jerry’s face and shaking like an attack dog. Nate gives as good as he gets and makes to chew on the lumberman’s neck. The Pine Island Powerhouse doesn’t much care for that and releases his grip long enough to headbutt Jerry; a Clear Cut Clothesline later and the Satisfying One is on his back. However, Cletus has seen enough and wants to retreat to the relative safety of the locker room and the comforts of Hermit’s wine. He exits the ring, grabs the discarded moose skin and drapes his over his partner. Before he rushes toward the back, franticly looking over his shoulder, he tosses the pulp hook back into the ring.
Cletus ain’t stickin’ around, and after what we saw earlier I can’t blame him.
What d’ya figure he saw under there?
I don’t know, I don’t want to know, and neither do you.
Well, he’s levelled the playing field for the moment; both guys are on their backs.
But Jim is still hurt worse. I’m not sure what putting that moose fur on him was supposed to accomplish.
Jim isn’t under the moose hide for five seconds before he’s back on his feet. He still looks like 245lbs of roadkill, but the fire in his eyes is undeniable. He drags Jerry to his feet, only to receive the Copen-blow black mist to the face. He reels backward, but his animal instincts are perked and as Nate advances, Jim delivers a field goal kick to the junk that lifts the Nebraskan three inches off the mat and ensures that Kahlan and Wolverina won’t have anything to worry about for a long time. Picking his opponent up in a fireman’s carry, Jim smashes the marauding metal-head into the mat with the Hermit’s Hangover. Brazenly scorning the opportunity to pin, Big Jim grabs the abandoned staple gun and proceeds to attach the moose skin to Jerry’s head and face. The pain of the metal piercing his skin is enough to rouse Nate from his hangover but, blinded, he can do little to prevent the attack of the Pulp Hook Punisher who, failing to get the weed whacker started, grabs the business end and takes to beating his opponent with about the stomach and chest with the engine.
Big Jim is a man possessed, where is he getting this energy?
He’s got to be running on adrenaline and the sheer thrill of having stayed alive this long. Whatever it is, he isn’t wasting a second of it. Jerry’s gonna be wearing Jim’s frustration all over him tomorrow.
When Jerry stops moving, Big Jim closes in on his supine form and begins to rub the moose skin once more. A poor move, as Nate manages to feel his way into applying the testicular claw to his deviant opposition. Jim rolls clear, clutching his groin, while the Nebraskan tears the hide from his own flesh, with a gut-besting bellow. Incensed, the Satisfying One rains kicks upon the fetal-positioned woodsman, but Jim has a surprise; having recovered the pulp hook, he now buries it deep into Jerry’s leg. Hobbled, the corn-fed Prince of the Dead falls forward, into the waiting arms of the twisted timber slayer; with neither man powerful enough to maintain his footing, after this bloodletting, both tumble into the hole in the ring…down into the dark abyss.