| Shozan Grahf |   |
|---|---|
| Height | |
| 6'6" | |
| Weight | |
| 233 pounds | |
| From | |
| Avonsgard | |
| Finishers | |
| Siinkiller Super Guided Shot Pale Edge | |
| Trademarks | |
| Seventh Seal Nemesis Torpedo | |
| Hellkitten | |
| Height | |
| 6'3" | |
| Weight | |
| 190 pounds | |
| From | |
| Savage, MN | |
| Finishers | |
| Sinkiller Wrathscorn Crusher Blackheart Driver | |
| Trademarks | |
| Hollow Heart Wrathscorn Bomb Soul of Misery The Unforgiven | |
| Currently Playing | |
| "Blessed Are You" by Iced Earth | |
Hellkitten Xain SPIDER Xiak Xande Non-Recurring Character -[Action/Description]- Speech | |
 -[The scene opens with everybody's second favorite stoner duo...]- XANDE: Dude, who are you talking to? SPIDER: WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I'M TALKING TO?! XANDE: Wait... wait... I almost got it... um... lemme see... not the disembodied head of Wilford Brimley... Xain isn't around to cast magic mind altering spells on you, so it can't be the rotting corpse of Martha Washington. Nailbunny got confiscated by the Health Department... SPIDER: AND DAMN THEM TO! WHO ELSE BUT NAILBUNNY WILL I GET TO DIRECT ME IN THE HORROR SHOW CALLED LIFE?! XANDE: Wes Craven maybe? SPIDER: Pish, I tried that. I got maced and had the New Line Gestapo on my ass. Anyway I was talking to the narrator. -['Bout you shut up so we can get on with this?]- -[And a brick falls from the sky and hits SPIDER in the crotch.]- -[Keep interrupting me and just you wait and see.]- -[Anyway we open the scene with the Brothers Grim, SPIDER and XANDE, and of course they're rotting pal in the wheelchair, the dead hippie. They're wheeling the hipster down the street toward a 7-11, having gotten kicked out of the local video arcade for bitch slapping the gumball machine and running up the Ski-Ball lanes.]- -[SPIDER turns and heads into the 7-11, and we do indeed see SPIDER's dealer on his back. A three foot tall one legged mexican beating on SPIDER's back. XANDE just shrugs and sits there with the hippie. SPIDER emerges a few seconds later with a big bag of Funyons and a forty of Colt 45. A street bum stumbles up to SPIDER.]- -[The whole scene seems to freeze. SPIDER turns, leaving a dotted outline where he was standing.]- -[SPIDER steps back into his outline, or tries too, his coordination is a bit off. It takes him about fiften seconds, and several 'GODDAMMIT!'s' to get it right. He eventually gets back, and time starts flowing again. He breaks the bottle of Colt 45 on the ice fridge, and lunges at the hobo, intent to kill when... A big 'TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES' sign appears of the screen?!?! Hey! What's that in the background? IF it ain't Global Wrestling's finest botching move after move. Way to go boys, I thought only Nathan Jones could fuck up a kick like that. Oh hey, here we go, we're back with our feature presentation, but now the Brothers Grim are elsewhere, and SPIDER is looking extremely bummed.]- XANDE: Dude, you were just doing what any self respecting hobo hater would have done. SPIDER: I KNOW! AND DO YOU KNOW THE WORST OF IT?! XANDE: YOU DROPPED THE FUCKING FUNYONS! SPIDER: DAMN SKIPPY! Note to Self: Wait outside of 7-11 for manager with a sock full of nickels. XANDE: So... SPIDER: So... XANDE: We need money. SPIDER: That we do. And we have two options with our pal here. XANDE: One, we pawn him off to Xain to enlist in his undead army of darkness. SPIDER: Or two, we go and play 'Uncle Carl' in traffic. So what's it gonna be? XANDE: Lemme see... see unholy ritual not meant for the human mind, featuring sights that will make you want to claw your eyes out, the meerest sight of which will taint your brain with the greasey stain of purest evil for all eternity. SPIDER: Or play dodge ball with the Buicks and Fords. XANDE: Can't play dodge ball. Our ball popped last month when we were playing "Jesus Chrysler." SPIDER: ALL BECAUSE OF XAIN! DAMN FANGBOY PROMISED THAT THE BALL, MADE OF DRIED AND WITHERED HUMAN FLESH, WOULD NOT POP FOR ANYTHING LESS THEN AN EXTREMELY GREAT EVIL! XANDE: We hit Bill Gates' limo. SPIDER: Well, that explains a whole hell of a lot. How'd ya know it was Bill Gates' limo? XANDE: Because the dude was yelling at us in Binary. -[We hear a crash and the screech of tires followed by "UNCLE CARL! YOU RAN OVER UNCLE CARL!" SPIDER and XANDE scowl and pull out their home made slapjacks, socks filled with nickels. Well, XANDE has pennies, he can't afford nickels. The two walk over to the guy butting in on their chuckin'-dead-dude-into-traffic-grounds. The dude has a bad mustache, and several days of beard stubble. He'd fit in real good with SPIDER and XANDE. He also has a dead guy in a wheelchair, a duffel bag on the sidewalk, and a three quarters remaining minipizza from Pizza Hut.]- -[XANDE puts his arm around the dude, smiling widely. SPIDER studies the guy carefully.]- Guy: OUCH! Don't touch me there! That bitch gave me a fuckin' rash or something! XANDE: Well buddy, today's your lucky day. Do you know who we are? Guy: No. SPIDER: Say, do I know you? -[The guy looks a bit panicky.]- SPIDER: You sure? Maybe I saw you like on TV or something? Guy: Nope, not me. XANDE: Well anyway, we're the guys who throw corpses into traffic in these here parts. And you're butting in on our turf. -[SPIDER is looking into the semi-open duffel bag.]- Guy: OF COURSE NOT! SPIDER: Damn, I needed one of those. It'd look great right next to my collection of "Serial Killer of the Month" jelly glasses. XANDE: Anyway, since we're nice guys, we're going to let you out of here with your dead dude, your wheelchair, and your personal pan pizza. The duffel bag, and the money you got from that dude that just drove away, we're gonna keep. Guy: Oh yeah? And what if I don't want to? -[SPIDER and XANDE grin.]- Guy: I see your point. -[He picks up his pizza, and dead dude, and heads off, taking a bite out of the pizza.]- -[SPIDER turns to XANDE.]- XANDE: Seventy... third... dimension? SPIDER: You know, right on I-94, after the big giant apple, contained under the third rock from the left in the grove of never-living-never-dying walnut bushes that bear the face of Alec Baldwin? XANDE: Oh yeah. I thought it was Stephen Baldwin though. -[We pull out from the scene, through the TV behind the bar at Purgatory. Xain has hit the pause button.]- -[He glares at SPIDER and XANDE.]- -[SPIDER runs off to throw another Oreo into the tank of water were the Evil Giant Goldfish Cracker of The Forty Second Layer of the Infinite Abyss is contained through dark magic, voodoo wards, creamy centered cookies, and the ocassional severed appendage of a raver every now and then.]- Xain: IF you idiots would pick up back there, it wouldn't. XANDE: I CAN TASTE THE STENCH IN THE AIR! Xain: Borrow my gas mask from my XHWF run as 'The Veteran.' XANDE: IT TASTES LIKE GREASEY DWARVES ARE REACHING INTO MY MOUTH WITH THEIR FAT DWARF-Y HANDS, AND SEIZING MY TONGUE WITH THEIR SALTY, STICKY, SWEATY PALMS! Xain: Breath through your nose. XANDE: WHAT?! MY NOSE HAIRS WILL SPONTAINIOUSLY COMBUST! Xain: And that's so bad why? XANDE: Well, I'm trying to grow them out and braid them. I got this one that's like three inches long, but he's all curled up. I named him Albert. -[Xain grabs XANDE by the goatee.]- XANDE: I CAN FIND IT! -[Muttering to himself, XANDE walks out into the alleyway, he turns then jumps about six feet into the air, the camera pans over to see Shozan Grahf leaning against the wall next to the door, he smiles, showing off those four silver fangs of his.]- -[Grahf shrugs.]- XANDE: What are you doing out here anyway? Shozan Grahf: Just thinking mostly. And hiding from that celluloid abomination you call a movie. XANDE: Oh come on! It's not that bad! Shozan Grahf: It's not that bad if you spend three quarters of your day high, and another three quarters sleeping, and have the IQ of seventy gym teachers. XANDE: Who has the IQ of seventy gym teachers? Shozan Grahf: You do. XANDE: Sweet! -[XANDE turns and heads back into the bar.]- Xain: Get out into the alley and start mopping ya' retard! XANDE: But I can;t be retarded! I have the... Xain: Do you know the average IQ of a gym teacher? XANDE: Umm... Xain: I'll take that as "No, no I do not." Guess. XANDE: Umm... ten? Xain: It has a one in it, but it's not ten. XANDE: Fourteen? Xain: No. One. XANDE: So he's saying I have an IQ of... um... forty three? Xain: Close enough. XANDE:Wait... Are you saying I'm stupid? Xain: Figure it out, smart guy. -[Grahf shuts the door. We can hear muffled conversation, but nothing discernable. Grahf leans against the door, and turns to the camera.]- Second, you're underestimating me. I like that, but then again I don't. I like it because that means that I'm going to have less trouble subduing you then I otherwise would. I don't like it because that means I'm denied once again that which I came here for. I came to Global for the simple fact that after half a decade of ostracisation from the father of our hated rival, that I wanted to test my abilities on someone worthy. And so far I have been sorely disappointed. My first match, they threw me together with Shawn Crusher. And our opponents? A moron and a moping egomaniac who would not get along. My second match I thought would be far beter. They threw me in the ring with four other men, although in their case I use the term 'men' only in relation to gender. It wasn't a challenege, but I admit it was fun. But in the end I triumphed. And I did it oh so easily. Three weeks into my career with Global Wrestling, I'm headlining the show. What does this say for the so called talent that already are here? What does it say about the quality of this federation when a man can walk in off the street, and less then a month later be placed in such a saught after position on the card? It's quite sad. I can walk in here and within a month be labelled as one of the best in the company. I leapt over men, again using the term loosely, that have most likely been here for months. It's a slap in the face of those that have worked their asses off for this company. And quite frankly, it is exactly what they deserve. Assassin, if I defeat you, if I take your title from you, what will that say about you going into your World Title match? Hmm? If I defeat you, who is going to actually take you seriously as a threat to the World championship? I mean seriously. If you lack the ability to hold onto a secondary title, such as the one you bear now, how could you possibly obtain, then retain, one of such obvious superiority? The answers are simple. You will look like a fool. You will look like a dolt. Even if you later say that you HANDED me the title in order to concentrate on the World championship, that will make you look like a coward. A simple fool whose self-doubt is so great, that he did not believe himself able to defend two titles simultainiously. And with that answer, you may look like an even bigger fool. For if you do not win the World title, your losing of the previous will be all for nothing.But if you win, you will have twice the number of foes gunning for you. When one holds two titles, the bullseye on one's back grows even larger. But I'm willing to take this burden from you. I'm more then willing for I will take it from you if you want me to or not. For I have a secondary reason to my being here in Global. Not only am I seeking a worthy adversary to my abilities, but I am seeking to inflict as much pain and suffering as possible. I care nothing for the piece of leather and gold that is on the line in this match. But what I do care about is the fact that you value it. Win or lose, Assassin,I have you. Win or lose you will be filled with self-doubt. If you win you must of course think of your ability to defend two tiles simultainiously. If your lose you will doubt your ability is enough to attain the biggest prize in this company. Win or lose, Assassin, you belong to me. -[Fade to Black]- | |