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They said he was mad (Thunderverse Diamond Local to Global attempt)

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They said he was mad, thinking you could start a wrestling promotion in this day and age. Seemed kinda fitting with the name he selected.


Asylum Championship Wrestling.


It was almost as if he named it as such to mock those who didn't believe in him. Those who didn't see his vision. And there was few who did. I just got dragged along for the ride.


"Don't worry Kid, as long as we have each other, we'll show them all!"


Mr Watts was an interesting individual. A former boxing promoter who made it big by basically lying to the crowd about if a fight would be good or not then stuffing the under-card with celebs and music so they were happy regardless.


People would have probably called him a con-artist, were it not for the fact that, beyond all logic, he made it work.


Perhaps that's the reason why I was still listening to him, regardless that I knew beyond all logic I should have walked out already.


"Think about it, a true counter-culture product for the 21st century. We'll tap into the market that's become disillusioned by this "sport's entertainment". I spent years putting together nostalgia matches, and I made good money from it, but even I could see the end was nigh. The old timers have had their shot, and now it's time to make a few more legends in this business!"


I'll give it to him, he talked a good game, and his past success couldn't be argued. But there was a big difference between building new guys up, and milking old stars for "one last match". And perhaps this was what he wanted, one last good run before the business let him out to pasture. The guy was old, and no offence to him, but what would he know what "young people" wanted?


I had to let him down easy. Low ball him to see if he'd give up, or get some other sucker to fund him.


I looked down at my phone, and looked at what "savings" I could invest in him. needed to make it a low number so he'd back off. For Christ's sake, I wasn't made of money.


"The best I can do is $2500..."


A silence filled the air, as he looked away in thought for a moment. Perhaps I'd done it? I mean, what the hell could this guy do with 2 and a half grand? That wouldn't even buy him a car, let alone start up a wrestling promotion.


Maybe he realized that this would be harder then he thought...


...But when he looked at me with that smile, he'd extended his hand to me to shake, I felt a cold shiver run up my back.


"Perfect." he replied.


...What had I done?


Starting info:


Asylum Championship Wrestling


Owner: Gordon Watts (with shadow investor)


User stats:


Negotiation: 10


Motivating: 3


Creativity: 3


Leadership: 2


Diplomacy: 7


Reputation: High


Starting Location: South (British Isles)


Difficulty: Rock Hard


Starting Money: $2,500








Hey guys, this is my first attempt at doing a Dynasty run. Hope you enjoy, and any feedback/advice would be much appreciated. :)

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<p>The First Show</p><p> </p><p>

</p><div style="text-align:center;"><p>So here it was, our first show. If I was honest, I was astounded by the amount of people who turned up. Unfortunatly however, they were mostly behind the curtain in comparison to the ammount of people in front of it. Watts had somehow gained some extra funding by marketing for sponsorship, however, the sign of "Big Dave's Butchers" clearly showed what level we were talking. Still, cash is cash, and with the ammount of people who had turned up, there was clearly going to be one hell of a bill at the end of it.</p><p> </p><p>

I entered through the front of Bath's Baths, I looked to the guy taking in tickets. Watts had put up signed at the local college looking for "media studies experience". </p><p> </p><p>

AKA, free labour. Got to hand it to him, he knew how to squeeze the pennies when he needed. Perhaps now I understood why he was so happy when I handed over the $2500.</p><p> </p><p>

I asked the guy at the door how our pre-ticket sales were looking. The blunt answer of "we'd be lucky if we hit 50" did not fill me with a large amount of glee. How the hell were we going to pay all of these people with less then 50 people and a Butcher Shop sponsor?</p><p> </p><p>

"Don't worry Son, some of the guy's just like being here, so we'll only pay for the wrestlers we use?" Gordon had explained to me</p><p> </p><p>

"...So some of them have just wasted their time coming here tonight?"</p><p> </p><p>

"Well they get to see the show too, so numbers will be higher!"</p><p> </p><p>

I somehow get the feeling that those people aren't going to see it that way...</p><p> </p><p>

Suddenly there was a commotion in the make-shift locker room. We both darted to the back to see what the commotion was. We saw as we approached that one of the ring crew had exited the locker room to explain the situation. </p><p> </p><p>

Firstly, Junior Mansilela was being a selfish prick, according to some of the others in the locker. I looked to Watts for some kind of answer to how he was going to deal with this.</p><p> </p><p>

"It's OK. First night jitters, I'll have a word with him, give him a slap on the wrist and tell him to buck up. That'll sort out the problem."</p><p> </p><p>

Suddenly, a large commotion was heard in the room next door. Me, Watts, and the stage hand rushed in to see two guys trying to kick the shit out of one another, suddenly everyone rushed in and broke the pair apart, before the situation was explained.</p><p> </p><p>

One of the wrestlers, a guy called Mikkel Mania had nipping at Brett Rock, some guy who looked as if he'd gotten hit in the head with a disco ball and somehow mutated from the experience, until the point where Rock had decided to take a swing at him. I saw Watts step up to Maina, giving his some harsh words about "professionalism" and "respect".</p><p> </p><p>

To be honest, I was somewhat surprised that Gordon even knew what those words meant, given how he'd been conducting his business tonight.</p><p> </p><p>

Either way, he turned to me and asked me to take a seat by the ring, he had to explain the plan for tonight, and see what they could do to make sure a second gig even happened. Why I wasn't a part of this meeting was beyond me, but I relented, and quickly took my seat in the front row.</p><p> </p><p>

By the looks of things, the show was about to begin as Watts and (color) taking their seats at the announce table.</p><p> </p><p>

<strong><span style="text-decoration:underline;">Brett Rock Vs. Makkel Maina</span></strong></p><p> </p><p>

Oh sweet Jesus...He didn't...</p><p> </p><p>

Well, it would appear that Watts had the bright idea of thinking that if they were going to try and beat the hell out of each other, he might as well make a buck out of it. The result was...Well...</p><p> </p><p>

The crowd, in short, hated it, and were quite frankly showing it. The pair looked like deer in the headlights as they came out to a crowd that pretty much detested them both from the offset. </p><p> </p><p>

Note to self, try and keep the stag parties in the audience to a minimum. And the worst bit was that this went on for 10 minuets! No wonder they sucked, I doubt they could hear each other's calls in the ring with the amount of abuse being thrown at them. Finally, Brett scored the pinfall, and both men made a very swift exit to the back.</p><p> </p><p>

Lord have mercy, I almost thought I saw one of them crying as they left.</p><p> </p><p>

<em>Rating: F 8</em></p><p> </p><p>

<strong><span style="text-decoration:underline;">Bill Thatcher Vs. Chris Lancer</span></strong></p><p> </p><p>

Well, this was an improvement. Not by much, but then again, the show couldn't really get much lower then the car crash we'd seen just before. </p><p> </p><p>

As soon as Thatcher walked out, he was booed. Not sure if this was the plan, but with the amount of birds he was flipping at the audience, it seems that he didn't really care either way. However, after a few minuets, it appeared that the crowd was actually getting into the match. They seemed to be getting invested at watching the thug beat down on Chris, before Lancer attempted a comeback. Unfortunately for him, there was little he could do, and one "Glaesga Kiss" later, and it was all over.</p><p> </p><p>

<em>Rating: E- 22</em></p><p> </p><p>

<strong><span style="text-decoration:underline;">Carl Rowan Vs. Adrian Storm</span></strong></p><p> </p><p>

Suddenly, we were greeting with the sight of a large Irishman, smiling as he made his way down to the ring. The crowd seem to enjoy his presents, before his opponent came out and the match began. The pair started off strong, but as soon as it hit 7 minuets in the pair started to look lost as to what to do. The crowd seemed to be sitting on their hands too as the match clearly dragged on, and on, and on, before mercifully it ended with Rowan putting on some kind of stretch hold, with Storm tapping out. However, as the match ended, the crowd seemed to be getting back into it.</p><p> </p><p>

Luck of the Irish winning I suppose...</p><p> </p><p>

<em>Rating: E- 18</em></p><p> </p><p>

Suddenly, the thug from before, Thatcher, came out and looked down at the ring. Rowan looked up at him with intention, however, Bill was staring at the opponent in the ring. Lance looked at him confused, before raising his arms to imply what he was looking at, as my attention turned to Carl, looking completely confused and lost.</p><p> </p><p>

My eyes shot over to Watts at the commentary booth, waving his arms in the air, trying to catch the eye of Thatcher, but to no avail. When suddenly it clicked for me.</p><p> </p><p>

He was staring down the wrong guy!</p><p> </p><p>

My head fell in my hands as the pair continued to look at one another, with the Irishman in the middle looking completely confused as to what he was suppose to be doing, before finally Thatcher turned around and made his way to the back.</p><p> </p><p>

What in God's name was I doing here?</p><p> </p><p>

<em>Rating: F+ 13</em></p><p> </p><p>

Suddenly the lights went out, as a projector suddenly came to life, showing the image of a large man, that, quite frankly, looked frightening. My eyes quickly scanned the crowd to see I wasn't the only one in shock at the man on the video. Then, suddenly the words "Chad Nzeogwu" appeared, before the video cut out, and the lights were returned to the ring. A small smattering of applause gathered among the crowd, clearly impressed that given what the show had offered them so far, we could actually pull off something that wasn't going to sputter and die right in front of their eyes.</p><p> </p><p>

<em>Rating: C- 58</em></p><p> </p><p>

<strong><span style="text-decoration:underline;">Ana Rox Vs Anja Henni</span></strong></p><p> </p><p>

Suddenly, the crowd began to pick up, as two female wrestlers came to the ring. with the aforementioned Stag do giving them wolf whistles and calls for calls for them to remove their clothes...Shouldn't really expect any better should I?</p><p> </p><p>

However, all that quickly changed as they turned to face one another in the ring. The calls died down, as everyone watched to women struggle to get it together. Missed spots, accidental no selling. You almost felt sorry for the fact that while these two seemed competent enough, they just didn't mesh well. </p><p> </p><p>

Finally, after 10 minuets of struggling through, Rox got the pin, with everyone somewhat grateful that this was over with.</p><p> </p><p>

<em>Rating: E+ 30</em></p><p> </p><p>

As Rox got up on the turnbuckle to raise her arms in the air, suddenly Henni got up, and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her back down to the mat with a thud, before kicking her repeatedly. The crowd watched in near silence, as the realization that these two were planned to continue to fight, ad my stomach sank a little. Finally Anja relented, and the grave thoughts of what was to come crossed my mind.</p><p> </p><p>

<em>Rating: F+ 14</em></p><p> </p><p>

Suddenly, the projector fired up once again, showing a guy in a cat mask talking to someone off screen. He said he laughed at the thought of Chad Nzeogwu coming to ACW, before brushing him off as a large oaf that couldn't beat the fast, slick Lynx.</p><p> </p><p>

I assumed Lynx was the guy's name, as the announcers confirmed as he suddenly appeared at the top of the ramp for his match.</p><p> </p><p>

<em>Rating: E+ 32</em></p><p> </p><p>

<strong><span style="text-decoration:underline;">Cannon Vs. Lynx</span></strong></p><p> </p><p>

Finally we reached our main event of the evening, and what a match. It was...decent! And by all admission that's all we could have asked for at this rate. The crowd got into the match, cheering along side it as the two men in the ring put on what could best be described as "passable". I honestly wasn't sure if the crowd was doing it sarcastically, or if they were just happy that this was almost over! Finally, after 15 minuets of good, sound wrestling, Lynx put Cannon away with a Lynx Effect, sounding off a frankly God awful night...</p><p> </p><p>

<em>Rating: D 42</em></p><p> </p><p>

<em><strong><span style="text-decoration:underline;">Overall Rating: D 41</span></strong></em></p></div><p></p><p></p>

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<p>The Morning after The Night Before</p><p> </p><p>

</p><div style="text-align:center;"><p>I remember sitting down in the greasy spoon that day playing out in my head exactly what had happened. The show was awful. I mean, SERIOUSLY bad. I wanted to call it quits right now, and perhaps I would once Watts showed up. </p><p> </p><p>

Gordan walked through the door, the largest smile on his face as he came over and took a seat opposite me.</p><p> </p><p>

"What a show! Am I right?!"</p><p> </p><p>

"A car crash more like."</p><p> </p><p>

"Well, every first time out is going to have a few hick ups along the way?" He replied. If he was referring to a punch-up back stage, a rather vocal crowd hating all the wrestlers, and a guy trying to set up some kind a feud by looking at the wrong guy "hick ups", then I dread to think what he would call an actual failure. "Look, I don't know exactly what you were expecting for the first night, but you got to look on the bright side of things!"</p><p> </p><p>

"What bright side would this be exactly?" I asked, as his smile returned, getting his smartphone out.</p><p> </p><p>

"The internet is blowing up about us, saying they loved the show!"</p><p> </p><p>

"...What?" I asked, frankly in disbelief at what I had just heard.</p><p> </p><p>

"Take a look for yourself!" Watts replied, forcing his phone into my hand. Looking down at the screen to a dirt sheet he had pulled up. I looked down at the screen before looking at back at Gordon.</p><p> </p><p>

"I can't see anything."</p><p> </p><p>

"Towards the bottom" He replied excitedly. I quickly brought my finger on the screen and began sliding. It took a few moments to rush down past the masses of text talking about other shows that had taken place that night, before finally, at the very bottom of the screen I found two lines of text.</p><p> </p><p>

<em>Asylum Championship Wrestling held Revolution I last night in the south of the British Isles, drawing 45 people. The feedback has been very positive.</em></p><p> </p><p>

A single paragraph wasn't really "blowing up". Still though, I couldn't help but smile at the thought of someone actually enjoying our show.</p><p> </p><p>

"Nice." I replied, my tone picking up as I looked to Watts.</p><p> </p><p>

"And with our next show, we'll only draw more people. 45 this time. 100 next. 200 the time after that. We can make this work!"</p><p> </p><p>

"So how much did we make?"</p><p> </p><p>

"Oh...Well I don't want to bore you with the numbers...Needless to say, all the profit we made is going right back into the company." Watts replied, looking back down at is phone as he retrieved it. My sense of happiness at a good show was beginning to dwindle rapidly.</p><p> </p><p>

"Gordon...How much did we make?"</p><p> </p><p>

"Well if you're going to persist, we made about $750 collectively."</p><p> </p><p>

"Well that sounds great"</p><p> </p><p>

"Toa$6900loss" he continued quietly, as I spat my coffee across the table.</p><p> </p><p>

"YOU LOST US NEARLY $7000 IN ONE NIGHT?!!!"</p><p> </p><p>

"Hey, sometimes you got to spend money to make money..." He replied sheepishly.</p><p> </p><p>

"YOU SPENT $6900 TO GET $750 BACK?!!! THE HELL AVE YOU DONE?"</p><p> </p><p>

"Look, it's not as bad as you think! We already had $4000 in the bank before we started, so really it's more like £3000 we're in the hole..."</p><p> </p><p>


"Because 3000 is a smaller number then 7000?" Watts asked, as I stood up from my chair, screeching it across the floor.</p><p> </p><p>

"I'M OUT!"</p><p> </p><p>

"What do you mean you're out?"</p><p> </p><p>


"And how am I suppose to do that?"</p><p> </p><p>

"I DON'T CARE! GO ROB A BANK! SELL DRUGS! HIRE YOURSELF OUT AS A PROSTITUTE! JUST GET ME MY MONEY!" I exclaimed as I stormed out of the cafe and onto the street, leaving Watts there, his eyes wide with shock.</p></div><p></p><p></p><p> </p><p>

Current Cash: -$3084</p>

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