Rip Chord: Where it All Begins Again (CV75)

[Mr T Jobs To Me]

[IMG]http://i156.photobucket.com/albums/t22/earlbreese/ChordDynastyBanner.png[/IMG] [I]*Credit to J Silver for the original pic[/I] Rip Chord: Where it All Begins Again Mean Jean Cattley stepped out of the cool October air and into the Delaware Auditorium through the back door. After quietly making his way to the locker room and tossing his gym bag onto the floor, Cattley scanned the locker room to make sure everyone had shown up before getting into a seated position on the floor to stretch his calves and hamstrings. While he stretched the 3 hour road trip out of his system, Cattley let his mind wander and worry about his future in MAW and wrestling in general. After a strong showing at the Rip Chord Invitational earlier in the year, he’d held out hope that someone from DAVE or even TCW might have taken notice. The calls never came, and months before his 30th birthday, “The Mean Machine” was starting to resign himself to the fact that they never would. Almost everyone else in the locker room was 23 years old or younger, some with a long future in the business ahead of them, and the carefree and positive vibe reflecting that resonated through the chilly room. Cattley let go of his toe and his thoughts and began to change into his wrestling attire. Meanwhile, a small crowd was forming around new signee and foil to Mainstream Hernandez, Citizen X. “…First show there, they had me job to Redwood. I saw the writing on the wall and brought this little toy with me to the 2nd show. I was hoping to get Redwood with it, but he just told me to **** off. Of course, Jim Force was more than willing to try to go back in time- he really is as crazy as everyone makes him out to be. So I told him how it worked, and he set the timer to the year 0000- “To witness the birth of the FOOOORCE!” Basically, it shocked the hell out of his nuts- he held onto the stick for like 20 seconds- and when Strong got there, he fired me on the spot.” From the sounds of it, Mean Jean Cattley had ambled over just in time to get the gist of what was about to happen. He smiled without humor at the juvenility on display and wondered idly if Rip Chord would fall for such a stupid trick, and why Citizen X was so eager to get into Rip’s doghouse in the first place. X had a reputation as an insufferable prankster- one he’d taken great pains to back up, obviously- and Cattley decided to just hang back and let things happen. He could use a laugh. “CATTLEY!” Rip Chord was in rare form tonight. His son Jay had obviously driven him to the show, and he walked in several paces behind his father, as if embarrassed by the almost-routine tirade that signified the arrival of Rip to the arena. “Who in the hell is this Mario Hero guy, and what the hell’s he doing here?” Jean opened his mouth to explain the other new signing to Rip, but Citizen X headed the drunken Chord off at the pass and brought him over to the bench where he’d placed his testicle-shocking time machine. Most of the other wrestlers left the room or went back to their locker to observe the proceedings from a safe distance. The “time machine” was a small box with a rudimentary gauge and a set of switches connected by wires to a handle with a rod that bore a vague resemblance to a pogo stick. Even stone drunk, Chord was skeptical at first, but Citizen X did his best to convince Rip to give the machine a whirl. “C’mon, Rip. What’s the worst that could happen? If it doesn’t work, you’ll still be here. You’ve got nothing to lose!” “Ehhhh, that thing looks like a piece of crap. There’s no way that little box and stick can send someone into the past. Probably wouldn’t send me to the right year even if it did work.” “Well prove it, and try it out. I’ll give you 20 bucks if you’re right.” “…$20, huh? Well, I’m out of drinkin’ money, so I don’t see why not.” “That’s the spirit, Rip! What year do you want to travel back to? I’ll put it into the time circuits here.” “Enter in 1975. I want to go back to my prime, maybe stay in TWL a little longer and give that bastard Eisen a run for his money. Do you know where Sam Strong would be without me? I made that son of a bitch and everybody who’s anybody around the business knows it.” “1975, huh? Alright, 1… 9… 7… 5. You got it. How does March 1st sound? You were the TWL Champion at that time, right? “You know your history, kid. I was on top of the world back in ’75. Me, Floyd Bowman, and Austin McCoy could outdrink any 4 of those Texas rednecks. What a pair we made. But if I had to do it again, I’d cut the drinking and the drugs out this time. ****, if this works, I could get Bowman off the sauce and McCoy off the blow before they ruined themselves. Man, I could change it all…. Oh, and one more thing, kid. If this thing hurts me in any way, you’re gonna wish you never entered the damn business.” Citizen X’s Adam’s apple did a little dance in his throat as he prepared to turn the knobs up, but he maintained his composure. Rip Chord grabbed onto the handles and positioned the third prong of the device between his legs. Chord only let out an affirmative grunt when X asked if he was ready, and had such a look of focus that it was clear he wasn’t noticing Mainstream Hernandez, the Natural Storm, Jay Chord, and Mean Jean Cattley observing with eager anticipation. Citizen X took a deep breath, then turned the knob to its maximum setting. Rip Chord let out a startled grunt as he felt a jolt in the groin area. His countenance of concentration melted into a sloppy look of anger at Citizen X, but the electric current forced his hands to retain their vice grips on the handle. His entire body began to shudder violently as the voltage increased, and the former E.M.M. Moe took a step back in shock- this was way more electricity than Jim Force had subjected himself to. As Chord began to scream in agony, those left in the room brave enough to bear witness converged on the box to turn it off before things got serious. Citizen X was the first to reach a hand towards the “power” knob, but before he had a chance to turn it down the box burst into flame and a visible current of electricity surged through the wires and enveloped Chord. The panicked crowd of five watched with jaws that continued to drop as a bellowing Chord simply disappeared from his seat on the wooden bench in the Delaware Auditorium. There was an eternal moment of silence, and then the **** began to hit the fan.

[Mr T Jobs To Me]

Rip Chord awoke with a throbbing headache and a confused mind. This was nothing new to him, having been an alcoholic for over 30 years. Through bleary vision he began a preliminary evaluation of his surroundings. He was in a hotel room, a relatively cheap one. He’d had the presence of mind to leave himself a full glass of water on the nightstand, and he brought it to his mouth, spilling half the water on himself by not bothering to sit up to drink. He’d also noticed there was an arm draped over his body- he wasn’t alone in his bed. Rip slowly lifted the covers with a mixture of anticipation and dread- this was usually the most interesting part of his day. He said a silent prayer that the female next to him weighed less than him this time and dropped the covers. Chord was both stunned and aroused at the slender, tan, sexy body he’d revealed. It’d been at least 10 years since a woman this fine had spent the night with him without a transfer of money. But one look at the gorgeous face of the innocently sleeping girl told him that this was no prostitute. Chord tried to shake the cobwebs from his head and sat up in bed, suddenly eager to piece together the events of last night’s drunken escapade. As he sprung to his feet, feeling spryer than he could remember feeling for years, he noticed yet another curiosity. The 10 extra pounds occupying his waistline was no longer the beer gut that had earned him the (rarely uttered in his presence) nickname of “Rip Coors”, but the old TWL Championship Belt, looking shiny and new. Clad in only the belt and his underwear, Chord stormed towards the door as quietly as one can storm. Now he knew something wasn’t right here. The hazy sun was just beginning to rise, and Chord shielded his eyes as he surveyed the bare expanse of tan ground that stretched as far as he could see. He sure as hell wasn’t in Delaware anymore. But even then, Rip had a good idea of where he was; however, it just didn’t make sense. Chord grabbed the newspaper from his neighbor in room 16’s doorstep and confirmed the impossible. The date on the San Antonio Express News read March 1st, 1975. Chord quietly closed the door he’d closed hundreds of times before, room 17 at the Lay Low Inn on I-35 just outside of San Antonio, and tiptoed to the bathroom. There was one more impossible thing he had to see for himself. [IMG]http://i156.photobucket.com/albums/t22/earlbreese/RipChord1975.jpg[/IMG] He looked like hell, but besides the toll of another crazy night, a young man’s face was looking back at him through the mirror. Rip Chord looked exactly as he remembered himself in 1975. “This is REAL!” a voice inside of him exclaimed with pure joy. His mind reeling, Chord finally pulled the hazy experiment with that damn new kid’s little time machine out of the swirling cascade of memories and realized exactly what had happened. Rip had agreed to try the machine purely to pick up another bottle of Yukon Jack on his way home, but he’d been given 32 years of his life back. This was too good to be true. Speaking of liquor, a nearly-empty bottle rested on the edge of the sink. There were about 3 shots of Jack Daniels left, though: a perfect start to what would be a perfect day. As Chord unscrewed the lid, his company cooed from the other room. “Come back to bed, baby.” A wide smile crossed his face. Rip was just about to down the bottle in one gulp and go take care of business when he took another glance in the mirror and realized he was at a crossroads. On one hand, the chance to live “the life” all over again was overwhelming. But he’d been down that slippery slope before, and he knew where it ended. On the other hand, if he could go cold sober now, what else could he change? Could he stop SWF from killing the territories, one by one? Could HE become the unquestioned star of the 80’s, not Sam Strong? The devil on his right told him that he could drink and still do all of the above; after all, he now had insider information on the next 32 years of the wrestling business. And the allure of alcohol was still strong- his body was only slightly dependent on the devil’s drink at this point, but he still had the mind of a 58 year old drunkard. He held the bottle in midair for a long second as the gravity of his decision weighed upon him with full force. [B]Should Rip Chord….[/B] [B]A) [/B][I]Swig the bottle down in one gulp, damn the consequences![/I] [B]B) [/B][I]Trash the bottle and attempt a new life of sobriety.[/I] “What is this?” [I]You may be asking yourself right now. Well, it’s a lot of things. First and foremost, it’s a dynasty set in the 1975 CornellVerse. I’ve deleted Rip Chord from the universe and created him as a user character. After Rip Chord answers the age old question; “To drink or not to drink” and presumably goes back into the other room to take care of business, he will go meet with the Lone Star Stampeder and discuss his new booking responsibilities. However, along with booking the shows, Chord will have several other choices to make along the way. This is where you (hopefully) come in. Every event will have two or more actions for Chord to take, and those actions will affect both Chord and his environment. The choices will be voted on (either in here, or a second topic if participation dictates it) and the selection with the highest number of votes will be the action Rip chooses. I’ll be using the editor to implement the effects of these choices, and they’ll hopefully give the diary a real sense of user participation. Also, there will eventually be “Dynasty Ending Events” which will end the 1975 section of this dynasty and begin an autoclick to Friday of October 2007. Not to worry, none of these are coming up soon (i.e. picking choice “A” will not cause Rip Chord to O.D. and die and end this thing before it starts.), but I have about 5 in mind. 2 of these will result in Rip Chord’s death, and I will not import him to replace the user character when I begin the autoclick. One of these will result in Chord leaving the business for an extended period of time, and the Chord from the modern day will be imported sometime near 2006. The other two will see Chord imported from 1975 and modified as the previous choices have dictated, leaving him in the game when I take over as Mean Jean Cattley in 2007. The 2nd part of this Dynasty (if I can maintain my sanity for that long) will see me do a similar thing with Mean Jean Cattley in the alternate CornellVerse of 2007.[/I] Well, there you have it. I welcome (and indeed, need) any participation, so feel free to vote on the first choice (this one’s not too hard to determine the effects of the choices) and ask any questions you still have.

[Derek B]

[b]Rip Chord Should….[/b] [b]A)[/b] Swig the bottle down in one gulp, damn the consequences! [b]B)[/b] Trash the bottle and attempt a new life of sobriety. Love this idea already, can't wait to see how it pans out. I've not been reading enough diaries lately and this one has already grabbed my attention. Derek B

[Tigerkinney]

Best back story ever !! :D Often I just skim over back-stories, as there usually just I got a phone-call from such and such and hey guess what they gave me a job. But this one was highly original and had me in stitches, I liked the touch of Jim Force setting the Time Machine to 0000 and that render of Rip Chord downing a bottle of beer just rules ! If the rest of the diary is as good as your opening post, you have a reader in me. I'm not that familiar with the 1975 Cornellverse, saying that I must get round to trying out the 75 mod you developed sometime down the road. Here's my vote on what Chord should do... A) Swig the bottle down in one gulp, damn the consequences! [B]B) Trash the bottle and attempt a new life of sobriety.[/B]

[shipshirt]

I go for B too. This is an amazing idea, MRTJTM :)

[Rob4590]

Well I'll be reading - if only to barrack you from the sidelines for scoffing at Bulldozer going over Mito Miwa :p Better select option B as well then - it'll be a boring dynasty with option A, since we'd know all the title changes already hehehe

[ReapeR]

[B]Should Rip Chord….[/B] [B]B)[/B] Trash the bottle and attempt a new life of sobriety. Go the sober route. We know what happens the other way. :D Excellent read so far. Can't wait to see where this goes.

[Midnightnick]

Alright T. This is sheer genius. B) Trash the bottle and attempt a new life of sobriety. A Sober Chord, is a Successful Chord.

[JonnyV1]

Well, we all know what happens to a drinking Rip Chord. So the popular vote would be to see what he's like without the drinking. So My Vote Goes too... A) Swig the bottle down in one gulp, damn the consequences! Come on, it's Rip Chord. He's a drinker! And it would be fun to see someone's spin on Rip Chords career of drinking and wrestling.

[Beeker]

Raises his glass of Bushmills Irish Whiskey and proclaims... Drink 'er down Rip! Coz he knows the future and he's got insider knowledge. He can drink with impunity. And stop after the bottle is gone... or the next... or the next. Fantastic backstory and you've immediately made Citizen X more interesting than in any dynasty ever. I want him in the next incarnation to be a mad tinkerer of joke products that somehow do something else. Either really cool or painful or bizarre. Cheers Rip!

[MiddleGA]

Heck, I've never played in the CornellVerse but this one seems like an obvious "B" choice. I mean, if you're gonna change history, then [i]change[/i] history.

[mad5226]

this is a genius idea. If this goes well for you I can see many many diaries changing the way they do things to incorpirate this, myself included =) [B]A) Swig the bottle down in one gulp[/B] He can stop drinking tomorrow, right now he has a hot chick waiting in his bed and he needs the boos so he can go "All Night Long"

[MrOnu]

I totally dig that concept and backstory. Chord is in Texas, a chick is waiting in the other room, we're in 1975.... why the hell would he choose to be sober ? Oh and it doesn't have to be alchool. ;)

[sebsplex]

[B]B) Trash the bottle and attempt a new life of sobriety.[/B] Whilst it'd be interesting to see Rip fall into the downward personal spiral that he's famed for, I've got to vouch for option B. Now to kill off Sam Strong and young Richie Eisen... it'd be just like The Terminator, except with Rip Chord. ;)

[ShadowedFlames]

I like both choices...but what the heck, let's go with (B). While I admit it'd be interesting to see how you'd write Rip as a drunken wrestler, I agree with another poster--if you're going to change history, then change it totally.

[Frank_Vest]

[B]A) Swig the bottle down in one gulp, damn the consequences![/B] Rip sober? It just isn't right!

[ReapeR]

*flipping through the channels* When does this come back on? I thought this was premier week? J/K Can't wait till the next "episode" comes online.

[Mr T Jobs To Me]

First, thanks for everyone who voted! I think the 4 vote margin is decisive enough for me to go ahead and finish the 2nd part up. A fair warning, though- it might be Sunday before I close voting on #2. I've got a long weekend of Rip Chord-style partying to do. :D Well then, the 2nd part should be up in around a half hour. The choice isn't as dramatic this time, and there won't be any booking until part 3, but I think this is a valuable little segment anyway. If you read through carefully, you'll see that every choice will have some drawbacks, there's no clear-cut right or wrong way to proceed here!

[Mr T Jobs To Me]

The decision had been made. Rip tipped the bottle all the way back, softly cursing the finality of his decision as the brown liquid splashed softly into the sink and down the drain, filling the air with a sweet stench he knew all too well. He turned the faucet on to drown the aroma, and then set the empty bottle of JD back on the sink as a reminder of his newfound commitment. “Come ON, baby!” The voice was more persistent this time. Chord splashed a bit of water on his face and opened the door back up. The deed had been done, and there was no reason to keep a beautiful woman waiting. [I](Results: Rip Chord +2 Consistency, +1 Looks. Drink Problems will be unchecked if Chord is successfully imported into the CornellVerse- for now.)[/I] [B]March 1st, 1975: 10 AM[/B] He’d only been awake for three hours but already Rip Chord considered today to be the best day of his life. Stacy (he rediscovered her name sometime during the follies) had just left after they finished their business in the shower; now Rip was putting his shoes on and getting ready to meet with his boss, The Lone Star Stampeder. He wouldn’t have to go far- Stampy’s permanent address had been room 3 of the Lay Low Inn since before he even owned TWL. Rip made sure he had his key and began the short trek around the horseshoe-shaped structure. Before he could even knock, a dead man answered the door. [IMG]http://i156.photobucket.com/albums/t22/earlbreese/floydbowman.jpg[/IMG] Rip Chord resisted the urge to embrace his former best friend who had been dead for 14 years in his time, Floyd Bowman. Instead, he greeted him with the traditional fist pound and stepped into the room. He saw another ghost sprawled on the couch, one who had less than three years to live. On this morning, however, the “Wild Boy” Austin McCoy looked like he was already dead. Still snoring heavily, both his eyes were black and blue and he had a massive ice pack on the back of his head. [IMG]http://i156.photobucket.com/albums/t22/earlbreese/austinmccoy.jpg[/IMG] “You’re a lucky sumbitch, Rip. About 5 minutes after you left with that girl, her boyfriend showed up at the Watering Hole with a gun looking for her- and you.” “Is that how McCoy got all roughed up?” “Yeah, a couple of his buddies were already in there. They saw us drinkin’ with ya and wanted to know where you went. We told ‘em to piss off, that we didn’t know where you were goin’, but McCoy was itchin’ for a fight anyway. He threw his bottle right into one of them hicks’ face- chipped his tooth, his mouth was bleeding- and grabbed a pool cue. He ended up taking a barstool to the back of his head and I had to drag his ass outta there and come here in the truck. We didn’t have any money, so we just crashed here with Stampy.” “Damn. Wish I’d been around to see that! Speaking of Stampy, is he up yet?” [IMG]http://i156.photobucket.com/albums/t22/earlbreese/Lone-Star-Stampeder.jpg[/IMG] “I get up at 7 every morning, even when you bastards come poundin’ on my door at 2 AM.” The answer didn’t come from Floyd, but the portly figure who had just stepped out of the bathroom. The slightly rotund Lone Star Stampeder took a seat at his foldaway card table, which also served as his work desk and dinner table, and gestured for Chord to do the same. “Hey Rip, before you talk business, have a shot of this here Morning Glory!” Bowman had picked his unmarked bottle of moonshine back up off the table in front of McCoy and was extending it towards Rip. “Thanks Floyd, but I think I’ll pass for now. Last night was a little rough for me.” For a split second Floyd Bowman recoiled as if slapped, his eyebrows forming a look of questioning mistrust, but he shrugged it away and began his one-man cannonball routine anew. Rip Chord sat down at the table, ready to talk business. “Alright Rip, you’ve only been booker for a week now, so I don’t expect you to have any earth-shattering ideas for me. But I do want to go over some of the expectations I set for you and make sure we’re at a clear understanding. You do remember what we talked about, right?” Rip Chord decided to bluff. “Sure do, Stampy. I’ve been thinking about them all week.” “And?” So much for that. “…. Okay, I forgot. What were they again?” “Goddamnit, Rip.” The Stampeder tried to appear angry, but there was an underlying gleam of amusement in his voice. He hired Rip Chord because he secretly loved the partying, rockstar-esque lifestyle Chord embodied. “Alright. First off, if you send me into debt, I’ve gotta close up shop- so don’t do that.” “Of course.” Chord grumbled. “Of course. Let’s move on. I bought the Texas Wrestling League because I have big dreams for what this promotion can accomplish. I hired you in- though I can barely afford you- because you’re the best damn wrestler in the United States and probably the only guy who can make those dreams come true. I want to take on SWF and become the number one wrestling company in America.” Now this was more up Rip Chord’s alley. “Sounds good to me, boss. That can’t be done overnight, though.” “I know. I may be a dreamer, but I’m not crazy. You’ll have three years to match the level of popularity that SWF is currently at, and if they’ve somehow gotten bigger… We’ll go from there.” That’s a good time frame, Chord thought to himself. By 1978 SWF will be a juggernaut but if we can get a cult following across the entire U.S. we’ll be in a position to contend with them. The only question is whether using current stars to catch them faster would be more beneficial than stockpiling still-green future stars. “Oh, and I have a few limits on the workers I want you to hire or re-hire.” Rip was hoping Stampy would let him run this part of the show, but it seemed some restrictions were inevitable. “Shoot.” “First off, I don’t want a bunch of workers that are consistently hurt.” Stampy leaned in and lowered his voice. “And that includes your buddy on the couch. This is the third god-damn time in the 4 months he’s been here he’s been hurt or missing from a show. I hate to say it Rip, but that’s bad for business. He’s got a year left, and if he doesn’t show himself to be more resilient and reliable by then, I’m not going to let you re-hire him.” As much as it pained Rip, he knew that unless he got McCoy off the hard drugs this would be a wise choice indeed. “Fine with me, Stampy. Is there anything else?” “One more thing. I want to start building for the future. Having guys like the Lariat and the Straight Shooter around has been good for the rookies, but they won’t be a great help in the future. So for the next two years, anyone over the age of 35 will not be signed or re-signed.” Chord balked at this. “Wait a minute- have you forgotten that includes you?” The Lone Star Stampeder barked a laugh. “I’m the owner, boy! I supercede all these rules. Alright, we’re also going to need a couple of quick hires. I decided Shane Sneer had no future in the ring, so he’ll be joining Berkely at the announcing table. With your buddy out of commission for a while that leaves us 2 men short of a full lineup. I don’t mean to micromanage ya, but I’d like to hear what you have in mind.” Rip cleared his throat. He hadn’t had time to ponder this yet between the morning sex and the reunion with long-dead friends, but the boss wanted an answer. [B]Should Rip Chord…[/B] [B]A) [/B][I]Start pushing a regime of future stars, who may still be a bit rough around the edges but will pay off in the long run?[/I] [B]B) [/B][I]Hit the ground running in the pursuit of SWF, grabbing a couple big names to beef up the show ratings, saving the trump card for a later date?[/I]

[Midnightnick]

Well, it's well known ol' Rip opens MAW which pushed up and comers so... A) Start pushing a regime of future stars, who may still be a bit rough around the edges but will pay off in the long run? Seems to be the logical choice with Chord.

[Tigerkinney]

A) Start pushing a regime of future stars, who may still be a bit rough around the edges but will pay off in the long run? [I]I'd go with this one too. Also thinking of it from the diary perspective, perhaps some of the older members of the Cornellverse were just rookies round about that time and it will be interesting to see you handle younger versions of well known veterans. [/I]

[sheepy]

B) Hit the ground running in the pursuit of SWF, grabbing a couple big names to beef up the show ratings, saving the trump card for a later date? Come on, an early war with SWF would be f'ing awesome.

[GuyInTheCorner]

B) Hit the ground running in the pursuit of SWF, grabbing a couple big names to beef up the show ratings, saving the trump card for a later date? Rip's made the commitment to sobering up, he should get to feud with the greats of his day.

[brat99]

A) Start pushing a regime of future stars, who may still be a bit rough around the edges but will pay off in the long run? *** Rip's got a year left with many of the veterans, so there is time to whip them into championship form

[ReapeR]

[B]B) Hit the ground running in the pursuit of SWF, grabbing a couple big names to beef up the show ratings, saving the trump card for a later date?[/B] Future... Been there done that... I say, win the war against SWF!!! Push the younglings in dark matches. :rolleyes: