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| Date of RP: 12/13/02 Current Record (IWF): 3/0/3 Current Accomplishments: IWF Bad-Ass Champion Check out all the IWF action here. |
~~They
said he had a bit of a problem...thats all it was, really. Just a bit
of a problem...he never really cared what they said. Maybe thats why
he lost his wife back in the late 80's. Maybe thats why he would wake
up from week-long benders miles from home in a car that was once decent looking.
The post-show celebrations were always best with him around...and you
could always count on him partying till the end with anyone.~~ ~~You could also count on him being around long after everyone else left, nursing his wounds and trying to forget the past by drowning it.~~ ~~KMD had a drinking problem...a small one, nothing he couldn't control, or so he would say. Finally, after many old friends urged him to seek before his liver went out on him, he did go for help. But those months were hell for him...his thirst would send him into fits of rage. He'd become defensive, withdrawn...withdrawn to the point of just jumping on his bike and leaving. And so he did...for 6 months. What he saw during his time away made him forget his problems in more ways than one. Slowly he had his drinking under control...the occassional was fine. Sometimes he'd splurge on a 6 pack or a bottle of wine. He didn't need the drink because his pains were gone.~~ VOICE: ...ugh. Shit. ~~Most of the pains, that is. When he rejoined the world of wrestling, some of those pains came back...both physical and mental...old allies and enemies showed their faces, and some of the old memories came rushing back. Good and bad memories came back. I'm not going to lie to you, I'm not going to play it up...not anymore. I convinced myself long ago that this is what fate does...now it can be made public knowledge. KMD is an old man in the world of wrestling...he's fast approaching 40, and has been in the ring since the age of 18. He's taken many bumps and bruises that would stop the average man. The average healthy man, that is. After awhile those bruises and injuries stack up...slowly you find youself unable to completely cope with the pains of living. You seek outside assistance...pain-killers and the like. KMD picked something a little more brutish and cheaper. He chose the bottle.~~ VOICE: Bitch....gaddam my head. ~~It isn't that bad, really...figure it costs you about $20 for a bottle of mig-grade whiskey. If you take shots from it, you'll get a decent ammount of shots out of it, and it only takes a good 4 or 5 solid shots to make the pain start to dull. Thats a hell of a lot cheaper than expensive pain-killers.~~ VOICE: Water...I just need a glass of water. ~~Of course, take too much and you may end up worse off than when you started. And there is that whole destruction of the liver thing, as well as the slow killing off of brain cells.~~ VOICE: Sunglasses...need sunglasses. ~~The camera slowly fades in from blackness to a blurred scene. As the camera focuses, we see a beaten mattress on the floor, a blanket stretched across it. A pair of pants lay across the floor, inside-out. The room is sparse...a small wooden dresser and a strange cabinet on the opposite wall. Curtains are half-drawn, letting in the light of early morning. Theres a bed stand beside the mattress with a bottle of JD tipped over, emptied. A shot glass lay on it's side in front of an old wind-up alarm clock. Something is being shaken in a box, and then we hear the popping of a bottle top.~~ VOICE: Heh...they're grrrrreat! ~~We hear the munching of cereal as the camera turns to find KMD, in his boxer-briefs (yes, ladies and gentlemen, KMD wears boxer-briefs...the secret is out) and a sleeveless THE TRU$T t-shirt at a scarred table, chewing over a bowl and holding a box of Frosted Flakes. He's wearing sunglasses. He puts down the spoon and reaches for a bottle of beer near-by.~~ KMD: Damn it my head. ~~He takes a swig from the bottle and looks around. He looks at a clock above the dirty stove...10:36. He blinks, turns around, digs through a pile of papers, and then produces a cordless phone. He punches in some numbers. There's a pause before he speaks.~~ KMD: Jason? Yeah, KMD. Not bad, yourself? Good. What happened the other night? ~~Theres another pause as he listens. He learns just what happened after the 6-way match between Hand, Windsor, and him versus White, Steel, and Sid, when he came out dressed as a beer man. KMD chuckles. He learned about being smacked upside the head multiple times, and Ebdon coming out.~~ KMD: Ebdon? I don't remember that. ~~He nods as Sensation speaks on the other line. He finds out that Ebdon came out and lent him a hand clearing the ring, only to be hit by Ebdon when he swung around...he was knocked unconscious.~~ KMD: That'd explain this damn bump the size of a walnut on my head. Ebdon...yeah, I saw some of his shit...watched those old videos left behind in the offices. Yeah, the incarnation of IWF he was in...yep, champ there. Big deal...both you and I were IWF Heavyweight champs. ~~KMD won the IWF Heavyweight championship back in 2000 by taking it off of Sensation himself...after that match, KMD left the IWF for some vacation time. He took the gold he worked so hard for and just gave it away to the first person that would come out for it...Ember's buddy Hoopy...the very next night on Showdown. Hoopy had it for a week before he lost it to PK Kassaie. KMD chuckles, and we can hear, faintly, the chuckling of Sensation on the other end..~~ KMD: Yeah, I'm well aware he's calling me Trev McDonut. Do I give a shit? No. I have more important things to worry about. Speaking of which, how did things turn out with Holliday? Did you- ~~There's a pause as Sensation speaks.~~ KMD: Shit. Alright, yeah...I went down there, but there wasn't anything. Skinny's lead was bunk...we're going to have to figure something out for The Rising...we need to find Holliday before The Rising is over because I know Padrino...he'll get impatient if you don't make him a deal soon enough. That and I don't have any clue as to how Shawn is faring... ~~Another pause as Jason asks KMD how he ever got messed up with Padrino.~~ KMD: Well, thats sort of a long story...see, you already know why and how Shawn got to working for Padrino...I'm sure he's told you. What I did for Padrino was your basic body guard stuff...sort of like Knuckles and his other muscle-pumped goons...what really set me apart was the hard-core technique I had...made me more of his brutal enforcer...the guy who broke kneecaps and fingers...that sort of stuff. There's a long story behind that one...thats the core reason as to why I wound up working for him...it was back in 1986 when I first met Joey Padrino... ~~*FLASHBACK*~~ ~~We fade into a sort of grittier-looking camera shot...the camera pans around a crowd of people, mullets galore with neon-colored shirts and stone-washed jeans. The crowd is going nuts...this was the height of the PWA...the Pennsylvania Wrestling Alliance...a decent-sized federation of the 80's that spanned across all of Pennsylvania, Maryland, New Jersey, and New York, attracting local wrestlers from those areas...young guys looking to build careers in the star-studded and spandex era of 80's wrestling. KMD was a mere 22 years old and a newer face to the sport. He went by the name "The Pittsburgh Pittbull", and was the angriest, sourest looking character in the entire fed. Back then he didn't have a lot of support, and he was passed off as nothing more than a mid-card worker in the newer venture of hardcore wrestling...he set himself apart from other men in that he was the son of steel-workers, and thus the toughest man alive. It was cheesy...it was an 80's gimmick after all.~~ ~~The camera pans around the arena. Banners announcing PWA's "RAD-E-CAL Obsession" PPV scatter around the arena. As the camera turns, we find ourselves looking down at a massive steel cage with two men in it. The camera flashes to an announcer's booth where two men sit in head phones and behind massive microphones. One man, what appears to be a younger RJ from the now Holliday and Sensation-run IWF, Ricky-Rock Jones, sits in a Miami Vice-style suit, next to another man with an afro and wearing a sweat suit, Mike Mo-Mike.~~ Ricky-Rock: Folks, this is one brutal match...The Pittbull has just attempted to climb the cage, but was pulled down by his feet by Mad Tony. Mo-Mike: Definately a rookie move on The Pittbull's part...he should know better. Ricky-Rock: Rookie move or not, he managed to grab Mad Tony by the head as he fell, putting them both on the ground. I think The Pittbull is bleeding. Mo-Mike: Damn, Ricky. Can't your boy take the heat? ~~RJ...er, Ricky, frowns at Mo-Mike as he fixes his fro. The camera returns to the ring to show a young KMD with a mullet and wearing steel-toed boots, tight blue jeans, and a white t-shirt with vents torn into the sides and "Tough as Steel" printed across the front. He pulls himself up, grabbing at the cage. When he's standing, he picks up Mad Tony, a good-looking fairly-large Italian man from New Jersey, by the hair and winds up, and then clobbers him with a headbutt, followed by another, and another.~~ Ricky-Rock: JACKHAMMER!!! Take that, Mo. Mo-Mike: NO! SOMEONE STOP HIM!!! Ricky-Rock: It appears your boy can't take the heat, buddy. ~~The Pittbull...KMD...continues to headbutt the man 3 times, and then dropkicks him, going for the cover. The ref counts...1...2...3! And the cage is opened. Mad Tony is motionless.~~ Ricky-Rock: This isn't good, folks...it appears Mad Tony isn't moving- Mo-Mike: What?! ~~Paramedics rush down the ramp and into the cage as The Pittbull stumbles out. The crowd is in a panic, and The Pittbull stands there, confused. He turns to the ring, and then shouts something inside. He clings to the side of the ring.~~ Ricky-Rock: This is horrible...The Pittbull- Mo-Mike: He killed Mad Tony. ~~The Pittbull continues to hang on the cage as paramedics rush around the inside. The announcers and the sound of the panicked crowd fade away as the flashback slowly fades.~~ ~~*END FLASHBACK*~~ KMD: It was never meant to go that way...I never knew that when we both hit, I fractured his neck...when I finished the job, I literally finished the job. Later that week, as I sat in the PWA locker room grief-stricken...I killed men before that, I was a marine, but this time it was different...I did it in front of an audience....later that night, I was paid a visit by Joey Padrino, the brother of "Mad" Antonio Padrino. He wasn't as greif stricken as I thought he would be...it was the first time I met the guy...but he only looked at me and nodded. Soon after that, he made me an offer...paid me big money he did...to do some work for him. Soon, as I found myself more entrenched in the system, I couldn't find my way back out. I just sort of ended up working for him, and that was that. We never spoke of the incident again...yeah, I know people still talk about it, but its just one of those things that aren't mentioned anymore...it was a dark time in my career. ~~KMD nods as Sensation comments on the other end. He pauses, and then blinks.~~ KMD: You know, I never did get a good look at it. ~~Another pause. KMD nods to the phone.~~ KMD: We might have to take a look into that. ~~There is yet another pause. KMD nods his head in agreement.~~ KMD: Definately...alright, I should get going. I need to get my crap packed and head off to the airport. Yeah, I'll see you there. Talk to ya later man. ~~KMD hangs up the phone and stares down at his cereal. He shrugs and begins to shovel them into his mouth, pouring more beer over them. We slowly fade to black as KMD crunches.~~ ~~We fade back in to a shot of KMD, walking with a slight limp through an airport, bag swinging at his side and his eyes dead-set forward. He's in the usual blue jeans and TRU$T t-shirt, leather trechcoat, bandanna, and Chuck Taylor All-Stars. The IWF Bad-Ass Title is draped over his shoulder. His face is stoic, and thoughts are evidently off in another world...~~ CAMERAMAN: Alright, KMD, I think I got it. KMD: Huh? CAMERAMAN: The camera...I got the lens to stay on. KMD: Oh, right. Damn cheap second-hand equipment. ~~Krev stops and looks around. He motions over to a fairly empty wall, and they go over there. The cameraman steadies the camera as KMD puts down his bag and pulls off his coat. He re-adjusts the title on his shoulder.~~ CAMERAMAN: Alright, chief, lets roll it. KMD: Ya know what? If we didn't have to put up with this Padrino crap, we wouldn't have to use shitty equipment. I mean, hell, look at that microphone. Give it to me. ~~The cameraman hands KMD a microphone wrapped in duct tape. Electrical tape patches up spots in the cord where it began to fall apart.~~ KMD: Where did we get this shit? Goodwill? Goodwill my ass...this is garbage. Damn it I'm going to make Padrino pay...its bad enough he had to go and financially bring us to our knees, but its just a kick in the nuts that he destroyed the HQ. All of the good equipment was there...I hand-picked that shit. ~~KMD shakes his head at the microphone and tosses it aside, shattering it on the wall.~~ KMD: Anyway, I'm heading off to the first rounds of WWC9...this may be the first and last time I go there...either way, I don't really care. For bloody f#cks sake, I'm facing off against Kryptonite. It isn't like I have to pull some clever move out of my ass to defeat him...I could walk up to him in a diving helmet and confuse him. Maybe I'll take some dolls...er, I mean action figures...to the ring with me...that'll keep him occupied while I pin him. Shriveled nuts my ass...he's getting his ass kicked even if his balls haven't dropped yet. Sorry, Krypto, but you just got assigned to me at the wrong time. ~~Krev reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a small flask. He glances around quickly, and then takes a sip from it. He shoves it back down into his pocket.~~ KMD: After that, I'm off to The Rising where I'll defend my coveted Bad-Ass Championship title against Suicide Sid. Am I worried?...not one bit. This piece of metal is the farthest thing on my mind...I won't lose it because I won't lose, plain and simple. What is more pressing than Suicide Sid is Padrino...that son of a bitch is going to pay if what I think is true. Jason and I have a plan... CAMERAMAN: What's that? KMD: Oh no...I'm not giving away the plans just yet...what do you take me for, a fool? CAMERAMAN: No. ~~KMD nods and pulls out a cigar. He looks up to see a 'No Smoking' sign. He sighs and puts it back away, pulling out the flask instead.~~ KMD: I'm done talking and bitching about Joey Padrino...its Joey this and Joey that. What needs to be is no Joey this and no Joey that...there should be no Joey Padrino in the IWF, and I'm going to make damn sure he gets put away for good this time. Having Chris Sparks knocked off and Paul Jay attatched to a machine to stay alive is going too far. I'd been in conflicts with Sparks in the past, and he was a good man, despite it. When The Rising has subsided, there will be a group of men standing above Joey and his goons...finally putting him down for good. Then...then... CAMERAMAN: Then what? KMD: Then we get to see why Joey's hiding behind that mask all the time. ~~KMD takes a long swig from the flask, and then brings it back to his side.~~ KMD: Is it because he's gutless? Yeah, maybe. Uglier than sin? More likely. One things for sure..."The Masked Mobster" is going down at The Rising. ~~KMD looks up as the PA system of the Airport kicks on.~~ PA: Flight 430 is now boarding. KMD: Shit, gotta jet man. We have a world tournement to breeze through. CAMERAMAN: Yeah...Krypto's goin down...nothing can stop the fast and furious power of the legendary KMD. ~~Krev reached down to pick up his bag, but stops and looks at the cameraman with a puzzled look on his face. He slowly rises, pulling his coat over his shoulders, and then draping his title over that. He nods to the cameraman.~~ KMD: You believe all that legendary bullshit? CAMERAMAN: Yeah. ~~KMD grins and takes a pull from his flask.~~ KMD: Then we might be getting somewhere with you. I don't think I caught your name...you work for WWC, right? ~~The camera nods 'yes'.~~ CAMERAMAN: My names Phil. KMD: Pleased to meet you Phil. My name's KMD. And you don't work for WWC anymore. PHIL: What? KMD: You work for the Once and Forever King of Legends, KMD. ~~KMD shakes his hand, grins, and picks up his bag. He heads toward the gate, camera fading to black..~~
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