Blazer/Hammerstein v Recoba/Storms

[UKWF]

Post your RPs for the match below. 2 RP cap per side, max 1 RP per character, max 500 words per RP.

[Cross Recoba]

The camera opens on Recoba walking down Bayswater Road.


“Sometimes life’s funny, I could have had a night off this week, after all - Arcane and I put the Champion and her number one contender away. Instead, I get paid to have a night off and all it’s going to take is getting past The Hebrew Hammers, and let me tell you - when you all see who I have to back me up - the result will never be in doubt!”


“So, Hammers, how are you feeling heading into the match? Confident? Think that this will be the springboard to launch your careers here in the UKWF? Wouldn’t that be just swell?”


Recoba pauses.


“It’s not going to happen! You’ll both find out what New Management is, and what it takes to get to the top in this company. You can study my tapes all you like, I invite you to but that doesn’t get over the fact that you’re going to meet my hand-picked insurance policy; towering over six foot, he answers to the name - Hunter Storms!”


Cross lights a cigarette


“Hammerstein, your only saving grace is that I’m not sure I can get that walking advertisement for diabetes of a body into Garibaldi’s Guillotine but that just means that you’ll fall harder when I land the Sicilian Typewriter! Your act belongs in some backwater, not in a place that is gaining momentum with every show. You see, you might bring the sizzle but what have you got when the bell rings? We’ll all find out at Violent Valentine’s…”


“What about the other half of Narcolepsy Inc.? The Jew Blazer….you might have come out of Winds of Change with a win but let’s be clear, that bell ringing was your saving grace, and even then it didn’t stop the onslaught.”


Recoba smiles.


“I know he saved you last time but the sooner you repay whatever debt you think you owe to Hammerstein the better it will be for you. I’m confident Storms can keep Hammerstein at bay leaving you isolated and we’ll cut the illusions to a minimum - you can’t compete with me. I’m seeing this match as nothing more than a distraction and the quicker we walk out with the win the better. I’m going to use every shortcut I know to take you down. What’s more, Hunter is going to take you apart - piece by piece. We’ll be doing you a favour, you’re in your thirties - blood isn’t something to get squeamish about.”


Cross stops walking at the top of the steps to a house.


“Don’t take it personally, though, guys, you’re just the medium we’re going to use to send a message to the rest of the UKWF that New Management runs everything within this place. Better luck next time.”


Recoba rings the buzzer

“Hey, ready for our workout.”


The voice on the other end is unmistakably cut-glass English in its accent.


“I will buzz you in, darling, make yourself at home, I am just getting ready…”

[The Jew Blazer]

Black Screen. White text. 

'The insults of a stranger aren't worth an onion' 

-Hebrew Aphorism 

THE FOLLOWING IS A PARODY OF ACTUAL EVENTS. COMEDY Y'ALL.

There is a forceful knock at mild-mannered Joshua Goldstein's door. Josh is forced to pull himself away from the warmth of the bed he's sharing with his fiance and dog. He stumbles to the front door in a Def Leppard tee and Justice League pajama pants. He opens the door to see a vaguely handsome man with a look on his face like he's better than Josh's apartment and most other things. He also has on an eyepatch and a tricorn hat.

“Uh...hello?” Josh says.

“You're a piece of shit and you aren't worth my time.” The man says.

“Uh...okay? Then why did you come to MY door?” Josh responds.

“Because you seem like the kind of guy who will just take this abuse. You aren't worthy of my attention and there is NO WAY a loser like you would slam their door on me.” The man says.

“I mean, that's putting a lot at stake for your reputation isn't it? Because now if I slammed the door on you you'd look kinda dumb. No offense but I have other stuff I could be doing without feeding a troll... a pirate troll.” Josh says.

“I'm not a pirate. Yarrr” The man says.

“Look guy, you are like the eigth vaguely handsome dude with a superiority complex to come knocking on my door and every time I just shut the door on them. How is this time going to be any different?” Josh asks.

“Beca-” The man says before the door gets shut on them.

“Hey! You can't do that! I put my reputation on you being a spineless coward! NOW BRING ME YOUR CHEST OF DOUBLOONS!” The man says before leaving.

-BREAK-

“I want to personally thank Hammerstein for the assist. Nice to meet a like-minded and positive individual!” The Jew Blazer says, giving a big thumbs up in his Blazecave.

“Now Cross Recoba, whose name sounds like someone spilled a bag of scrabble tiles, seems to want to push the narrative that all I did at the last show was get pummeled because that narrative services his ego. In reality, I managed to hold off two opponents and was attacked by four people when it seemed I was going to beat both of them on my own but the reality of the situation does not service Recoba's narrative so he has rejected it.” The Blazer says with a shrug.

“I can understand the worry, Cross. But don't beat yourself up over this! Nothing brings a fella back to reality like a good Chutzpah Boot to the face. My treat! The Jewish Hammers are coming to town and all we see in the ring are a pair of nails. Let's have some fun! Woo!” The Blazer says.

[Hammerstein]

Hammerstein stands outside The Johnson Iron Foundry in Staines. The winter air is heavy and damp as he looks at the old factory. He cups his ear, almost as if he can still hear the sounds of the workers inside.

So Cross Recoba and Hunter Storms call demselves ‘Da New Management,’ huh? Dat’s cool, I guess. Me, I always seen myself as more of da labor side a tings and I’m sure my brotha from anotha eema, Da Jew Blazer feels da same way. Just like all da people who hit da grind everday in dis foundry. Simple, hardworkin as hell folks dat were willin ta lay it all out dere, not for da fame and not for da fortune. Dey did it cause it was da right ting ta do.

But see, y’all look down on all da hard workin peoples, da workin class, da labor. And da bad ting is y’all come from workin class cities.

Recoba, ya come from Cicero, Illinois, bro. Dat's a factory town, dude. Hard working men and women busting dey booties ta provide for dey families.

Storms, you come from Boston, bro. Dat's about as blue collar a city as dey come. Tough men and tough women doin tough work, not looking for fame or fortune, but wantin to make a life for demselves and dere families.

My bro, Da Blazer, he come from Long Island, and I ain't talkin bout da Hamptons neither. Ya got da Bronx and Queens, and dat's bout as workin class as dey come.

And den ya got dis here Mississippi boy. After my uncle adopted me and took me ta Whynot, I learned what workin class was all about. I worked on his farm, growin crops and takin care of da animals. I didn't get a job like most kids got, workin at da Dairy Queen and whatnot, cause I had all da work I wanted on da farm. It was tough, backbreakin work, but at da end of da day, I knew I accomplished sumpin worthwhile.

Even here in Staines, ya got da hard workin blue collar people who worked dey booties off in dis iron foundry. Dey didn't have it easy, but dey took pride in dey hard work. Dey spirit lives on here, and all around da world. Dat spirit lives in me.

Dat’s cause all dese folks, all dese peoples you two look down on, dey my peoples. And dey Da Blazer’s peoples, too. We love dese peoples and dey love us. And we gonna represent em at Violent Valentine's when da Jewish Hammers bring da fight ta Da New Management.

And one ting’s fo sho, boys. After dis labor union of da peoples, Da Blazer, and Da Hammer get done whoopin y'all's fruit booties, Da New Management gonna be old news.

[Hunter Storms]

A single light hangs over a spot in a rather dark room. From the shadows, steps forth Storms dressed in a gray suit, shades resting on top of his head.



“Y'know, I'm not usually the best at intros, but I feel like this one is a bit more different than the rest. UKWF, how's it going? You may not have heard of me, but you most certainly will after Tuesday. I feel no need to remind the people of my history with one Mr. Cross Recoba. A man who certainly has helped get my career back into gear.”



He adjusts the shades on his head.



“Well enough for the introductions, let's talk match shall we? So, according to sources and match card, we're facing a duo of Hammerstein and someone who calls himself The Jew Blazer. Lemme say something here, the only thing that should be ending in '-stein' is Rammstein, not some wrestler wannabe thinking he's cool with the name “hammer” in front of it like 'Hey, look at me I'm dah hamma!' Please, I've seen ten year olds more convincing than you'll ever be Hammerstein. And this.......'never give up' attitude reminds me of well.......me when I was first starting out. You get this mentality that every loss is just a learning experience and that afterwards you'll pick yourself up, eat a cheeseburger, and then get right back at it in training, but after awhile that doesn't appear to be the case does it? You'll find out soon enough Hammerstein, that the attitude you have right now, is only masking and protecting you from seeing your foreseeable destruction.”



His face appears grim as he takes the shades off his head and stuffs them in his pocket.



“Now, this other man, The Jew Blazer I believe it was? What is this, a play on of The Trail Blazer suddenly becoming a super hero? I thought this was a wrestling show, not a movie set for low budget actors! Judging from what I've heard last show, I'm surprised you were beaten as badly as you should for dressing up as a superhero because here's a little secret about this business: there are no heroes, and there never will be heroes. Simple as that because no matter how much you try to save people from getting beat down, there's always someone else out there getting beaten up. Speaking of beatings, I believe it's about time you got yours.”



He slams his fist into his open palm.



“I hope everyone is ready for a bloody Valentine's Day because that ring is going to be painted red with the blood of Blazer and Hammerstein. Recoba and I will show you exactly what it feels like to be beaten to the near point of unconsciousness because we don't play no games in this, and we don't take prisoners. We only give the casualties of war in this industry...”



He walks out from under the light as the camera fades to black.