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| Piccie Smalls© vs Kyle Dunham; European Championship match | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 29 2006, 07:32 PM (262 Views) | |
| The Notorious PIC | May 29 2006, 07:32 PM Post #1 |
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EUROPEAN CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Piccie Smalls© vs Kyle Dunham Regular Match rules Deadline: May 28th, 12pm EST |
HALL OF SMALLS![]() Praise be to Piccie!!! The greatest of all time PWA ACCOMPLISHMENTS Champion of the Universe World Champion 2007 Three Hours of Power Winner Intercontinental Champion European Champion (greatest ever) Tag Team Champion (w/ Tommy Dragon) Hardcore Champion(2) Fastest rising star in PWA History; retired as #1 Career record upon retirement: 34-10-1 Future Hall of Famer ![]() Winner of all the 2005 awards by default (polls deemed racist by NAACP) Winner of all the 2007 awards by default (voting once again deemed racist by NAACP) Best RPer because I kick ass | |
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| Kyle | May 30 2006, 02:40 PM Post #2 |
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PWA Wrestler
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(OOC: Good luck Pic.) Enter Sandman by Metallica begins and Kyle comes out to a smoke engulfed stage. The lighting is blinking on and off to the beat of the music. When the music picks up, Kyle begins to walk slowly down the ramp way. Say your prayers little one Don't forget my son To include everyone! I tuck you in warm within Keep you free from sin 'til the sandman he comes! Kyle stops at the end of the rampway, and turns to face the stage. Sleep with one eye open! Gripping your pillow tight! He raises his arms to the roof. Exit light! Enter night! Take my hand! off to never-never land!! Then he brings them down, and pyro flies up the rampway, and hits the stage making a bunch of different types of pyro go off on the stage. Something's wrong, shut the light Heavy thoughts tonight And they aren't of snow white Dreams of war Dreams of liars Dreams of dragons fire And of things that will bite, yeah! Kyle turns and a smile is now on his face. The arena lights are blinking more and more, and Kyle then runs towards the ring, and slides in. He runs to a corner, and pounds his chest twice. He then bends down with his arms extended out behind him. Sleep with one eye open! Grippin your pillow tight! Exit light! Enter night! take my hand! off to never-never land!! He then springs up with his arms in the air, and pyro goes off at the top of the roof, where the lights han Now I lay me down to sleep Now I lay me down to sleep Pray the lord my soul to keep Pray the lord my soul to keep If I die before I wake If I die before I wake Pray the lord my soul to take Pray the lord my soul to take Kyle then gets off the turnbuckle and awaits his opponent. Hush little baby don't say a word And never mind that noise you heard Its just the beasts under your bed In your closet in your head |
![]() .::------------------------The Natural Born Kicka | Kyle Dunham-----------------------::. ::Kyle Dunham:: Status: Returning Face/Heel: Tweener Hometown: Medina, Ohio Height: 5'10" Weight: 210 Pounds Finishers: Dunham Driver Gaara Stretch Wrestling Style: Striker, Lucharesu ::Titles:: Currently Holding: Held: Overall Record: (Wins | Loss | Draw Or DQ) 0-0-0 In The Way Of Greatness: Proved To Be A Worthy Opponent: | |
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| The Notorious PIC | May 30 2006, 06:38 PM Post #3 |
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Piccie enters, greets the crowd as he goes down the ramp while drinking some of the finest wines Italy has to offer. (shortest intro I've ever done but I figured we should just get the match started) |
HALL OF SMALLS![]() Praise be to Piccie!!! The greatest of all time PWA ACCOMPLISHMENTS Champion of the Universe World Champion 2007 Three Hours of Power Winner Intercontinental Champion European Champion (greatest ever) Tag Team Champion (w/ Tommy Dragon) Hardcore Champion(2) Fastest rising star in PWA History; retired as #1 Career record upon retirement: 34-10-1 Future Hall of Famer ![]() Winner of all the 2005 awards by default (polls deemed racist by NAACP) Winner of all the 2007 awards by default (voting once again deemed racist by NAACP) Best RPer because I kick ass | |
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| Kyle | May 30 2006, 10:20 PM Post #4 |
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PWA Wrestler
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Kyle Dunham looks across the ring at Piccie Smalls. He looked drunk, with his cheeks red, and his speech slurred. He was now in the ring with a full glass of wine, and the ref came over to tell him he couldn't have that in the ring. Piccie looked rather mad, and yet bore a confused face. He then said the hell with it, tipped the glass back, and began to chug down the red wine, with the liquid now staining his t-shirt and jeans. He then dropped the glass to the mat, with it breaking into large pieces. He then looked around, and saw five referees, and ten Kyle Dunhams. He then let out the largest belch probably ever heard by man. Kyle looked away in disgust... while the crowd sympathised this drunk hobo, Kyle was absolutely disgusted by him. He was the equivalent of Necro Butcher. Hell, it was basically Samoa Joe vs Necro Butcher III. Kyle was just absolutely confused... how could this dude get the European Championship, when he couldn't? Well, a lot of things would be changing, and in fact, they would be changing right now. The crowd in the front row began to get up, and Kyle's gaze wandered over to them, because he was tired of seeing Piccie slip and fall down because of all the wine he spilled. The crowd was getting up, and looking at the stage. Kyle then turned his eyes to the stage, and saw a beautiful girl running down the stage. It was Traci from RWL. Kyle's reaction resembled nothing but shock. He and Traci were dating, and Traci was managing him. But he was still confused. That was RWL, and this was PWA. Kyle bent down to the middle rope, as Traci lightly grabbed his head, and whispered something into his ear. The referee was getting closer, to see if maybe he could hear, but it was impossible. Kyle heard a slam behind him, and looked over to see Piccie passed out in a pool of glass and wine. Traci then backed away from Kyle, and zipped down her jacket. She then pulled something out of the inside, and handed it to Kyle. Before turning away, she grabbed him by the head once again, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She then turned around, and he lips read "Good luck NOAH." A grin came onto Kyle's face. He looked down into his hands. He was bearing a black mask, with long red ribbons, red, white, and yellow designs, and the top of the scalp cut off. It was complete. His Phoenix mask was complete. He was happy to see its completion, but this was PWA, he couldn't bear it hear. Vegeta would be PISSED. Kyle then placed the mask under the turnbuckle, and he looked across the ring at Piccie Smalls who was once again being helped up by the ref. Were they ever going to get started? The ref then noticed something... Piccie hadn't even brought his belt! The ref was so worried now, they were on live television, and everyone in the world was now watching a drunken Piccie Smalls, and the ref rushing backstage to get the title. Kyle then got an idea... what a dumb ass. He walked over, and grabbed the microphone. "When the "teachers" go away... the kids will play. Ladies and gentlemen, let's begin the damn match!" Kyle then slammed the microphone down, rolled out of the ring, and pushed the ring announcer out of the way. The sound of steel crashing together was heard, and Kyle rolled into the ring with steel chair in hand. The ref was backstage, and had no way of seeing Kyle's beating of Piccie Smalls, which would be a disqualification automatically! But it didn't matter that it was dirty. Because it was smart. At the moment, Kyle didn't care about his fans, or his critiques. Now he wanted to beat the shit out of Piccie, grab the title, go and find Traci, and go back to Ohio where the celebration party would begin! Piccie finally reached his feet, and when he turned around, Kyle raised the chair high into the air, and behind his head. The chair slammed Kyle's butt, and when he began to bring it back up again, it was only a fraction of a second before it would slam into Piccie's head. Then it happened. The sound echoed throughout the arena, and the fans looked on in complete shock. What had happened?! Did Kyle Dunham... the face... just smack Piccie Smalls... the heel... over the head with a chair?! No one was cheering... and that was saying something. Their hatred for Piccie remained, but a new found hatred now existed for Kyle Dunham. Now another red liquid was on Piccie Smalls... and it wasn't red wine. It was blood. It was pouring out so fast, and the impact did him in. Now he was drunk, dazed, and basically unable to fight. Kyle looked over at the stage... still no ref. He expected it would take him like ten minutes. The PWA halls were so busy, and the locker rooms were even harder to find. Kyle threw the chair down, and rolled out of the ring, with even more deadly ideas in mind. He reached under the apron, and pulled out what else? A TABLE. A wide grin was on Kyle's face, as the crowd looked on in horror. Kyle slid the table into the ring, and when he saw that the bloodied, "Crimson Mask" wearing Piccie Smalls was getting up using the ropes, he ran at him, and smacked him in the face with a kick that thundered through the arena. To add more pain, Kyle used the chair once again, this time over Piccie's shoulder. Kyle looked up with a demonic look on his face. He looked like Mick Foley, who had just been thrown on thumbtacks. Minus the thumbtacks and the beard, and the scruffly face. Kyle then threw the chair down, and lifted the table onto its side so he could begin setting it up. Then a faint chant began to sound throughout the arena. It was rather hard to make out, but eventually, Kyle heard chants of "YOU SOLD OUT!" which were so loud, it made Hogan's theme song in the 80's, sound like a mellow song which would be played in a local cafe. It was SO loud. Every single person was chanting it, and each bore the same French accent. Kyle then grabbed the microphone he had thrown down, and began to talk once again. Kyle: You know, you say I sell out like its a bad thing. I mean, you're the ones that came to see me. I can't see one empty seat in this arena. So yes, I do indeed sell out. Now sit down, and shut the fuck up! This doesn't concern you. Johnny: What has happened to Kyle Dunham?... Donny: I think it's great!! Kyle threw the microphone down once again, and now had the table set up in the corner, at a slanted angle. Kyle then picked up Piccie Smalls, as many of the fans knew what was coming. Kyle then ripped off the bandanna and sun glasses that covered Piccie's head and face, and he gave him a stiff chop. He then spit into the face of Piccie, which was a complete sign of disrespect. Kyle then put him in between his legs, and lifted him high into the air, with his arms supporting Piccie's arms. It now looked like an Awesome Bomb, or a Razor's Edge, but the crowd knew better. This was the Dunham Bomb. Kyle then took three steps at full speed, before slamming his arms forward, making Piccie go forward with the momentum. Not being able to stop, Piccie tried his best to protect his neck and upper back, but it was no good. Piccie slammed into the middle of the table, upper back and neck first, and when Piccie stopped squirming, the wreckage showed the pain that was now coiling throughout his body. Kyle then went over to Piccie, rolled him out of the table wreckage, and began to get rid of the "evidence." He grabbed the pieces of the broken table, and kicked it under the apron. He then used his hand to sweep the smaller pieces out of the ring. Kyle then rolled into the ring, with the microphone in hand once again. Kyle: So this is the legendary Piccie Smalls?... The Notorious Pic? You know what? I say fuck you Piccie... and I say fuck all of you. None of you believed in my ability to do anything, and now I have prooved each and everyone of you wrong! Sit down and shut up! You can't do nothing bitch, so why don't you try?! Kyle was screaming at a fan in the front row, and Kyle was just trying to add heat. But even he didn't expect the fan to get into the ring. He hated it when this happened. It happened almost all the time in his Cleveland Indy days. Kyle then clotheslined the man to the ground, and kicked him out of the ring as French security took him away. Crowd: VAS TE FAIRE FOUTRE! The fans were now basically saying, go get fucked in French. Kyle was eating it up. He was just adding fuel to the growing fire... no... to the growing bonfire. Piccie was now to one knee, looking up at Kyle. Kyle: Piccie, I don't sympathise for drunken hobos who were found in the fucking death match circuit boy! Kyle got down on one knee as well, and grabbed Piccie by his hair, and began to scream at him, as he tugged and shook on his hair. Kyle: Piccie, I got to where I am today, because I worked my ass off, not because I had some sleezy gimmick and no wrestling skills. Piccie, you make me absoultely sick, and not only is it a disgrace to wrestle you, but it's also a disgrace to all my fans... well... the fans that I have left... to watch me wrestle someone like you. Piccie, you maybe European Champion, and I have no fucking clue how you became it, but in a few minutes, you will be carrying nothing around your waist. You're going to go back to your hotel, and die a painful death because you lost to that fucking Kyle Dunham rookie! Well you know what, fuck Kyle Dunham! He's not me! That's for DAMN sure! Hell, I'm changed... I don't care about any of you... And when it is all said and done... you will never forget the name of The Phoenix! Kyle then let go of Piccie's hair, walked over to the turnbuckle where his mask lay, and picked up the mask. He then opened it up, and put it on... if he had on entire Phoenix outfit... you could not tell someone that, that was at one time Kyle Dunham. With the mask now on, and everyone completely confused, The Phoenix picked up the chair for one final blow. He held it high into the air, and looked down at Piccie. The camera zoomed very close, and The Phoenix's lips shouted FUCK YOU PICCIE! The Phoenix then slammed the chair down once again, this time, slamming it across the side of the face of Piccie. Piccie's face now resembled a ripe tomato, and not the green ones. The Phoenix then threw the chair into a clearing in the crowd, where no fans stood. He looked up the stage, and saw the referee charging down the ramp with the European Title in hand. A smile came upon his face, and now it was time to begin the match. The ref slid into the ring, and the crowd bell rang out. Can Piccie survive this massacre? Or will The Phoenix destroy Piccie... and his career? Only time will tell... |
![]() .::------------------------The Natural Born Kicka | Kyle Dunham-----------------------::. ::Kyle Dunham:: Status: Returning Face/Heel: Tweener Hometown: Medina, Ohio Height: 5'10" Weight: 210 Pounds Finishers: Dunham Driver Gaara Stretch Wrestling Style: Striker, Lucharesu ::Titles:: Currently Holding: Held: Overall Record: (Wins | Loss | Draw Or DQ) 0-0-0 In The Way Of Greatness: Proved To Be A Worthy Opponent: | |
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| The Notorious PIC | May 31 2006, 07:23 PM Post #5 |
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(OOC: Just some hints for ya. First off, I'm face, not heel. Secondly, we're in Italy so they would speak Italian, not French. lol) The official slides into the ring and notices the carnage spread about throughout it. Blood stains the ring as it trickles down from Piccie’s forehead. He lies on the mat, recouping slowly. PWA officials may not be the smartest of all people, but they are by no means fools. He suspects Kyle Dunham has done this so he backs him into the corner, checking every inch of his body for some sort of foreign object. Anyone hoping for a disqualification would not get one. The chair used by Dunham lies on the outside of the ring and since he never saw it happen, the referee, by the rules, cannot disqualify Dunham. His frisk down also comes up empty. Much to his disgust, the referee signals for the match to begin and allows Dunham out of the corner. All this time Smalls has slowly been coming to. The cobwebs clear out, the pain numbs away from adrenaline being pumped through his body to prevent shock. He’s taken worse beatings before. You don’t spend most of your time in barrooms without getting into a few brawls and this drunk has learned to take a hit. The self-proclaimed “messiah of submission wrestling” walks over towards the European champion looking to pick him up off the mat. Sharp, sudden pain between his legs stops the process. Some would consider a low blow to be dirty, but not The Notorious PIC. You play dirty with him, he’ll play dirty with you. Meanwhile, the official sees none of this. He’s continued his search for a disqualification and has busied himself with Dunham’s girlfriend, Traci, at ringside. The two argue back and forth with Traci becoming more upset when he sees her man taking a strike to the family jewels. Frustrated, she finally jumps down off the apron and the official finally turns his attention towards the match. The challenger is in great a pain, a pain that each man sadly knows and cringes at even the slightest thought of. Smalls, still feeling a tingling in his back from the Dunham bomb, knows he still needs to buy more time for himself if he ever hopes to win this match to retain his title. Slowly rising off the mat, he wraps his arm around the head of the knelt over Dunham and performs a move that will certainly stun his opponent for the time being, a DDT. Face first into the mat, Dunham is seeing stars and not the kind you seen in People Magazine either. With his opponent dazed, Smalls takes this situation as a time out for himself to address his injuries. He crawls over to the turnbuckle to prop himself up, picking his bandana up along the way. He points to a fan on the front row, who tosses him a PWA towel, ones that were given out to the first 1000 fans as a promotion before the show began. Piccie uses the towel to wipe the blood of his face. Grabbing the bandana, he ties it around his forehead making a makeshift bandage to prevent any further blood loss. A crafty move indeed, even more clever when you consider the amount of wine Smalls has consumed since his arrival in Italy, but it looks like those years spent in the Boy Scouts is finally coming in handy. Signs of life are seen from Dunham as he rises from the mat to regain a vertical stance; Smalls is up out of the corner and the two warriors meet center ring. Words are exchanged, Piccie noticeably expressing his disgust by the cheap and unprofessional shots Kyle Dunham has displayed. Showing no sign of respect at all for the European champion, Dunham slaps the words right out of Piccie’s mouth, drawing boos and displeasure from the crowd. The Notorious PIC does not take to kindly to this action and goes for a slap of his own, but just before contact is initiated, Kyle manages to block the shot with his forearm. He grabs the champion’s free arm and whips him into the ropes. With Smalls sent running into the ropes, Dunham stays in place, kneeling down for a back body drop. The move is anticipated by Smalls. Fresh off the rebound from the ropes, Piccie Smalls delivers a swift kick upwards, catching the bent over challenger in his upper chest. Kyle stumbles back but remains on his feet. The shot has totally taken the challenger off guard. He is unable to defend himself from Smalls, who has approached him. Reaching outward, Smalls scoops his opponent up into his arms and throws him down the canvas with a standard yet hard body slam. Before he can even arch his back in pain, Dunham has his head blanketed with the leg of Smalls from Smalls’ standing leg drop. The Notorious PIC rolls over onto his opponent’s body for the pin. With the official sliding into position next to the ropes, Piccie waits to hear the sounds of the referee administering the three count. Those sounds never come. Piccie looks over to the referee only to find that Traci has pulled the referee halfway out of the ring, preventing him from making the count. A nice tactical save by Traci, but one that angers Smalls and the crowd. The European champion leaves his opponent to go show Traci what he thinks of her. He leans over the ropes, grabbing the woman by the hair and shouting slurred insults in her direction. The crowd loves it, cheering Piccie on to show this Jezebel what she deserves for getting involved in the match. The referee gets takes care of the situation and convinces Piccie to leave her alone. He concedes, tosses her away to go back to focus on his opponent. Kyle is no longer shaken up, but Piccie does not realize this when he lifts Dunham off the mat. He is blinded after the recovered Dunham pokes Piccie in the eyes, stopping whatever offense the drunkard had planned. Johnny: Oh! And there’s another cheap shot by Kyl...I mean The Phoenix! Donny: Phoenix? Isn’t Phoenix that really hot chick from X-Men 3, Johnny? Johnny: Why yes it is Johnny. And I’m glad you mentioned X-Men 3: The Last Stand. *X-Men 3 movie promotion screen appears at the bottom of the screen* Johnny: Did you know that X-Men 3: The Last Stand had the 4th highest opening of all time? Donny: Why yes I did, Johnny, and critics around the world are giving it rave reviews. I saw it this past weekend and it was awesome. Johnny: Indeed it was Donny and for all of you that haven’t seen it, you should. That’s X-Men 3: The Last Stand, now playing in theaters everywhere. *end movie promotion screen* Kyle Dunham or The Phoenix as he likes to be called now, looks to take advantage of the blinded champion. He grabs onto to Smalls and lifts him up for what looks to be a textbook suplex maneuver. Before Smalls is lifted straight up and slammed to the mat, he manages to slide out of the move, landing safely behind his opponent. He reaches around the neck of opponent, locking him down with a Dragon Sleeper. The Messiah of Submission Wrestling is now at the mercy of someone else’s submission hold. His arms flap around, desperately trying to latch on to Smalls to break the hold, but it is no use. The oxygen slowly starts to dwindle down in his lungs. Each breath takes in less and less air, especially after Piccie goes down to one knee, arching the back of the challenger and thus applying more pressure. Smalls waits, his arm locked tightly around the head and neck of Kyle Dunham, simply waiting for Kyle to say goodnight. |
HALL OF SMALLS![]() Praise be to Piccie!!! The greatest of all time PWA ACCOMPLISHMENTS Champion of the Universe World Champion 2007 Three Hours of Power Winner Intercontinental Champion European Champion (greatest ever) Tag Team Champion (w/ Tommy Dragon) Hardcore Champion(2) Fastest rising star in PWA History; retired as #1 Career record upon retirement: 34-10-1 Future Hall of Famer ![]() Winner of all the 2005 awards by default (polls deemed racist by NAACP) Winner of all the 2007 awards by default (voting once again deemed racist by NAACP) Best RPer because I kick ass | |
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| Kyle | Jun 2 2006, 03:42 PM Post #6 |
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With Dunham struggling to get sufficient bloodflow to his brain, he flails his legs up and down to try and get away. It doesn't do any good, and Piccie decides to add more pressure. Kyle was becoming dazed and confused, and Piccie didn't give a damn. But then, surprisingly, Piccie let go! He looked around as Kyle held his head in pain, and was now going to add insult to injury. For what he had done to him before, he wanted Dunham to pay. He put Kyle in a sitting position, and grabbed onto his mask! Kyle began to struggle, he did not want his mask to be revealed, and Traci once again came to save the day. Taking a page out of Debra's playbook, Traci hopped onto the apron, and unzipped her shirt, revealing her lace black bra. Piccie dropped Kyle's head and mask, and went over to Traci to get a closer look. He couldn't resist the almighty power of tits. Kyle then adjusted his mask, and hopped up. With Piccie's hand inches away from Traci's left breast, Kyle wrapped his arms around Piccie's waist, lifted him high into the air, and slammed Piccie's neck down onto the mat, completing a German Suplex. Piccie was hurting badly, but it wasn't over... Kyle was now going for the kill. Taking a page out of Chris Benoit's or Samoa Joe's playbook, Kyle used his leg strength to pull himself up, so he could add another suplex. Kyle's arms then shot up to Piccie's arms, put him into a full nelson position, and completed a beautiful Dragon Suplex. But he was really going for the kill now. He got up once again, and got ready for his favorite suplex of all time. He grabbed onto the arms of Piccie Smalls, and shouted... "TIGER!" The word echoed throughout the arena, but the sound of Piccie's neck crashing into the mat would be louder. Kyle then took him over above his head, and completed a picture perfect Tiger Suplex. Kyle decided to end the chain combination there, and pinned while he had onto the arms of Piccie. The ref hopped over Piccie's legs, and got into position. He ducked down, and counted... One Two... Johnny: Oh My God! How did Smalls kick out of that one! Donny: If you can call it that! I mean, he had both shoulders on the mat! Johnny: You are truly blind. Donny: Shut up Johnny Boy. Kyle was amazed that he couldn't get the pin, and was no arguing with the ref. The ref's face was becoming red in anger, and Kyle could care less. The infamous finger was pointed at Kyle, telling him to stop, but this only made Kyle angry. Grabbing onto the ref's collar, he slammed the ref against the turnbuckle, and left him alone. Surprisingly, the ref didn't call a disqualification, as this ref was rather lienient. Kyle went over to Piccie, and picked him up again. Giving him a slap, then another slap, Kyle began a quick combo, filled with martial arts kicks, side chops, and finally ending in a jumping roundhouse kick, Kyle ran past from Piccie, sprang off the ropes, and ran past him. He knew what to do, if he could hit the Busaiku Kick, he would rap up the match. After springing off the second pair of ropes, he was now looking at the face of Piccie Smalls. How it made him angry. He then leapt into the air, with his knee and feet outstretched, and in a matter of a second, it was over. Kyle's knee smashed into the face of Piccie, and Piccie went flying backwards because of the momentum. The force behind Kyle's knee was incredible. Piccie was sure that it broke his nose, but he wouldn't be sure until the X-Rays came out. Nonetheless, blood was pouring out of his nose like a faucet, and Kyle had a grin on his face that looked like pure evil. Kyle crawled over to Piccie like a baby crawling over towards candy, and Kyle threw Piccie onto his back. He ignored the fact that Piccie's leg was not hooked, and he just simply threw his body ontop of Piccie's. Piccie desperately kicked out at two. The crowd was amazed at Piccie's determination. The fact that he had fought through all of Kyle's dirty tricks was enough, but he was also fighting through Kyle's wrestling skills. But Piccie actually wanted it to end... the pain was unbareable. But he couldn't. He COULD NOT give up. He needed the European Championship. It helped him get babes. Kyle was now very angry with Piccie. Why couldn't he just lose and go get drunk at some bar, and get laid by some French whore? Nevertheless, Kyle needed to stay on the attack. He picked up Piccie, and dropped him in the corner. Wanting to make Piccie's chest hurt even more, he stretched back his arm, and slapped the chest of Piccie Smalls, making the slap echo throughout the entire arena. Piccie was now doubled over in pain, with the stinging striking him like a flame. Piccie rolled to the middle of the ring, trying to get a few seconds of fresh air, but Kyle kept on the attack. He ran up to Piccie, and kicked him right square in the side. Piccie let out a moan of pain, and Kyle continued to laugh. Traci then got up on the apron, and with Piccie still down with little movement, Kyle went over to take a "break." He lightly grabbed her neck, and kissed her on the lips. Johnny: God come on! Just wrestle God damn it! Donny: Hey shut up! If I had Traci, I would be making out with her all the time! Johnny: Donny... please don't ever mention the words... "I'd" and "make out." Picturing you making out with a girl would be like seeing my mom and my dad having sex. Oh God why did I say that?! EW!! Donny: Sounds like you speak from personal experience! Kyle and Traci were now really making out with eachother, but when Piccie began to charge at Kyle, Kyle heard, and dived out of the way, leaving his poor Traci in the way and vunerable. Piccie's massive frame then connected with the "Jezebel," and she went flying off the apron, landing with a thud on the concrete. Kyle then hopped up, and when Piccie turned around, he gave him a Yakuza Kick he wouldn't remember. He fell to the mat like a falling tree, and Kyle went to the outside to check on Traci. She seemed alright, but cameras were flashing at something. Kyle couldn't figure it out, until he looked down at her skirt, and saw that it was moved way up, revealing her panties. Kyle then quickly adjusted them, and pushed a kid with a camera in the stands. Kyle put Traci in a sitting position against the guard rail, so she could "revive," but now the same horny kid who was just pushed, could now take hundreds of pictures of Traci's cleavage. Back in the ring, Piccie was trying to get up once again, but he was too hurt. The pain circulating through Piccie's body was unbearable, and was soon getting to his head. He was now questioning his huge wine binge he's had in Italy, and he was now questioning why he had even accepted to face Dunham. Kyle then picked up Piccie, and put him in between his legs, heaved him up into the air, and hit a running Liger Bomb that guaranteed Dunham the victory. 1 2 Kickout! Kyle: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME REF?!! Kyle was now going off on the referee once again; he just couldn't believe Piccie had survived all of this. No one could. He had survived the many chair shots, the Dunham Bomb through the table, the Chimera Suplexes, the kicks, and now the Liger Bomb?! What would he have to do to pin Piccie? With stamina now draining from Dunham as it has from Piccie, Kyle picked up Piccie, and dragged him over to the middle of the ring. He put him in between his legs once again, outstretched his arms, and got ready. This was it. This was his chance. With the next move, he would become the European Champion. He knew he could do it, and he knew he had to do it. He was becoming so tired, and beat up. He then hooked the arms of Piccie Smalls, rested his head on his back for a second so he could get a breath, and bent down his knees as far as they could go down. Piccie was looking down at the mat and Kyle's feet. When he saw his knees come into picture, with his arms hooked, he knew what was coming. If he hadn't been so drained and beat up, he probably could have prevented this, but it was too late. He jumped into the air, and Piccie without anything to do with it, leapt into the air as well. He could feel his body being flipped in the air, and was now looking over at Traci, as his head neared the mat. Then it happened. His head smashed into the ring mat, and his shoulders smashed into Dunham's thighs. The crowd was silent as they watched Piccie balance on his head in the aftermath. It was almost as if the Italians were watching their beloved Leaning Tower of Pisa in its final moments, before it crashed to the ground. A second later, Piccie fell to the mat. The pain then set in his body. His head wasn't as bad as previously thought, it was actually is shoulders. Piccie had around 250 pounds crashing down onto his shoulders, and then to add Kyle's thighs... well... it didn't make for a pleasent sight. He couldn't even feel his shoulders, and it was as if a wave of pain was sweeping down his body, very... very... slowly. Kyle looked down at Piccie with a wide smile on his face. He had done it. He had overcome the odds. He turned Piccie over, grabbed the leg of Piccie, turned his body onto his back, drove his back into Piccie's face, and now had the cover.... Will Piccie be able to do the impossible, and survive the Super Nova? Or will Kyle be crowned the new European Champion? |
![]() .::------------------------The Natural Born Kicka | Kyle Dunham-----------------------::. ::Kyle Dunham:: Status: Returning Face/Heel: Tweener Hometown: Medina, Ohio Height: 5'10" Weight: 210 Pounds Finishers: Dunham Driver Gaara Stretch Wrestling Style: Striker, Lucharesu ::Titles:: Currently Holding: Held: Overall Record: (Wins | Loss | Draw Or DQ) 0-0-0 In The Way Of Greatness: Proved To Be A Worthy Opponent: | |
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| P.Y | Jun 4 2006, 09:22 PM Post #7 |
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::: Now it was Piccie’s turn to overcome the odds, throwing his arm up high from the canvas to avoid defeat. Of course, shock is only a simple word to describe the feelings running through Kyle’s mind, as his body springs back onto its feet and lead him towards the referee. That is where his mouth takes over, yelling obscenities at the referee in a futile effort to speed things up. It’s kind of too late now, but still its better not to waste time yelling at a man dressed in a black and white when he could be finishing his opponent off. He turns back to Piccie to find the man already back on his feet, but luckily he is of no threat, leading Kyle to cockily strut over to his foe whilst making a move for his arm. A tight hold is all he needs as he draws in the Notorious PIC and locks him up ready for a Backdrop Suplex. The crowd are ready, well, everyone is except for Piccie. Still, the man is hoisted up and into the air, but when many would expect the move to complete with the European Champion taking the brunt of impact, it’s Kyle who finds his face mashed into the weaved canvas with the unexpected Hangover! The crowd go wild, as Piccie simply holds down Kyle’s shoulders as he hopes for the best … ::: … ONE … TWO … THREE! ::: Somehow he manages it, as the referee helps him to his feet before handing back his title. The champion doesn’t hang around long, exiting the ring pretty sharply to avoid any further conflict. ::: ::: RING ANNOUNCER ::: THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH AS A RESULT OF A PIN FALL AND STILL PWA EUROPEAN CHAMPION – PICCIE SMALLS! |
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9:52 AM Jul 11