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All-Star Wrestling: TEXAS FOREVER (C-Verse)

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Sanctuary, Texas…


“Texas FORVER!” the group said together.


At the same time a large flabby man in a cowboy hat tipped backwards on his folding chair and crashed through the poorly covered catering table, covering the others in stale food.


I had a sudden sense of déjà vu.


New York City – 3 months ago


“This kid, is New York City Wrestling and I want you to be my new booker,” said the gruff old man.


Larry Vessey’s lips curled as he made his offer. He was a man used to getting what he wanted. But he at least seemed kind. As I thought about what my future might hold in the greatest city in America, an incredibly good-looking man of, I’d guess, Italian-American heritage strolled into the locker room.


“Ah kid, this is one of our top stars, his name is Brutus Milano. Show him what you can do Brutus.”


The model-a-like slipped into the ring and proceeded to shadow wrestle an invisible foe. He looked awful.


“Y’know what Larry,” I said. “I think I’ll pass. But good luck.”


“What do you mean you’ll pass?” he growled.


“I’ve got a feeling I know the end of this story before it begins. Plus, I met a really interesting stranger in the Diner down the street. He’s already offered me a gig… in Texas.


New York City – 3 Months (and 1 day) Ago


Teddy’s Diner was packed with the lunch rush. I sat down with my black coffee and watched the people ordering plates of what I’d assumed would be breakfast foods. But unlike other diners, Teddy’s seemed to be a predominantly BBQ-themed restaurant. Racks of ribs, huge steaks and mountains of Southern Fries were being shipped around the tiny, packed space.


“You sure I can’t get you no food?” said the portly man behind the counter. He was mid-50s, had a greying moustache curled at the edges and wore a permanent beaming smile. I assumed it was the standard service industry smile, but on closer inspection this guy just seemed really happy.


“No I’ve got a meeting,” I said. “Don’t want to be covered in BBQ sauce for it.”


“Is that right?” he said in his thick Southern accent. “Well, well, well. Don’t want no high-faluting New York gentleman looking like a Southern slob do we?”


“Actually I’m English,” I corrected him.


“Is that right? Tell me my young friend, what’s an Englishman doing in this part of New York City?”


“I’m here to meet a man named Larry Vessey, something to do with a job as the head booker of a little New York wrestling company.”


“You’re in America now, it’s pronounced wrasslin.”


“If you say so,” I said.


“I do,” said the man. “So you’re a creative sort are you? And Larry’s interested in hiring you. Must be talented. Hmmm.” He stroked one of his chins and then smiled. “Garry, take over for second, I need to have a chat with our young English friend here.”


“Aren’t you the cook?”


“Oh mercy me no, I own all of Teddy’s Diners. I just like to show up to each one and do a day’s work here. Keeps me on the straight and narrow. C’mon, let’s shoot some sh*t.”




With the last of my money I boarded a flight to Houston and got a car at the other end. Following the instructions I made my way North West. I passed all sorts of weird and wonderful places until a small green sign appeared alongside the road which read:


Welcome to Sanctuary.


That sounded nice.


Population: 397.


That sounded less nice.


But this was where Teddy had asked me to go. I followed the hastily-drawn map on the back of a napkin, which lead me to the outskirts of the small town to a venue called The Sanctuary Sportatorium.


I say outskirts. The difference between outskirts and the town centre was about ten paces. And by town centre, I actually meant a local store, a bar called The Boot and Star and another Teddy’s Diner.


The small number of locals milling around tipped their cowboy hats at us as I passed and stood outside, in a brilliant white suit and hat, was Teddy. Or Theodore P. McCoy Jr. to give him his full name. Turns out he’d made millions off of his own BBQ sauce and ran dozens of diners all over the States. As part of his empire, he’d decided to invest in a small, regional wrestling company. They hadn’t run a show yet, but using his enormous bank balance and his ‘spend-first’ mentality, he’d assembled a Hell of a roster for such a small company. But that wasn’t all…


He lifted the metal door to get access to the Sportatorium. My first impression was: It’s bigger than it looks.


Without knowing, I’d guess there were ten thousand folding metal chairs and in the centre was a dusty, broken down ring. He flipped the switch and a host of lights turned on and illuminated the ring. It looked even better under the lights.


“Not bad aye? State of the art equipment, top-level talent behind the camera. We’re going to look like a major player straight off the bat,” he said. “not to mention, Texans love them some wrasslin, so I’ve been promoting our debut show all across the state. We’ve already sold a load of the tickets. I want to run a show once a week on a Thursday. Don’t want to compete with Friday Night High School Football.”


“Have we got enough money for all this?” I asked.


He laughed at my apparently ridiculous question.




Having been handed the book that day, I settled into the motel, which would be my home for the foreseeable future and had a look through all the talent Teddy had signed up. A mix of Texans, Cowboys, Native Americans, Masked Luchadors and youngsters. It was a good mix, but now I had to come up with storylines, because the Texan crowd wouldn’t accept shows without good old fashioned wrasslin stroylines.


I made notes on those wrestlers who I’d like to see performing consistently and did research on various boys’ histories in the business. I’d never felt more lost. What was I thinking, taking a job in the middle of nowhere in a business I knew nothing about.


Teddy had arranged a meet and greet the following day for me and the boys, so I dressed in my best suit, sweat through that and changed to jeans and t-shirt and went along to the Sportatorium.


Teddy introduced me to the boys and I got to know them one-by-one. Some, like the Cowboy hat-wearing Bradley Blaze were polite and respectful, others, like the equally Cowboy Hat-wearing Texas Pete, were drunk. I was told this is par for the course in Texas. There was a gentleman with multi-coloured hair called Remmy Skye who looked relaxed and a little under the weather, what with the redness in his eyes.


But the real surprises were the non-wrestlers. I didn’t know much about wrestling, but I could tell straight away that the announcer, a guy named Peter Michaels, had the goods. His silky voice was like rich creamery butter and seemed even more professional when put against the harshness of his colour commentator Shane Sneer. Finally, the hulking mass of what could only be an actual cowboy, a guy aptly named Pistol Pete Hall. He scared me and then spat some chewing tobacco on the floor before laughing.


This was going to be an experience if nothing else.

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<p>As noted in the ‘book’ I‘d changed the names of some of the boys. Sure they had some value on the independent circuit, but it seemed to me that if they were going to make it in Texas, an apparently long-dead region, they’d need to look and sound the part.</p><p> </p><p>


The Architect became Jason Romo</p><p>

Air Attack Weasel became Dastardly Dave Wallace</p><p>

Texas Pete got a surname, in Houston</p><p>

Alistair Shufflebottom became Al Shuffleton</p><p>

BB Colossus became Colossal Kong</p><p>

Little Miss Sunshine became just Sunshine</p><p>

Two young workers, unknown in the area, became The Destroyers #1 and #2</p><p> </p><p>

I then set about signing up a couple of guys who had quite the buzz around them and invited them in for a sitdown.</p><p> </p><p>

“Hi there,” I said. “Now you’ve come highly recommended by Peter Michaels, and I wondered if you’d like to join us here at All-Star Wrestling. Y’know, make a name for yourselves.”</p><p> </p><p>

The two young, blond guys looked at one another in bemusement.</p><p> </p><p>

“Err, sure,” said the smaller of the two with the longer hair.</p><p> </p><p>

“Good stuff,” I said. “Obviously we’ll meet your asking price with no problem, boss is a bit of a spender. So let’s talk gimmicks and names.”</p><p> </p><p>

“Names?” said the second.</p><p> </p><p>

“Yeah, names. You two don’t exactly sound like Texans or cowboys or the like.”</p><p> </p><p>

“Well that’s cos we’re not, I’m Canadian and he’s… well people will know him,” replied the long-haired one.</p><p> </p><p>

“Canadian’s won’t work here in Sanctuary I’m afraid, trust me on this, I’m the booker,” I said. Even saying it made me feel less confident. I checked my clipboard to remind myself of their names. “In fairness your names are close to the kind of thing we want. So how about Ricky the Colt and Gregory ‘Six Gauge’ McGraw?”</p><p> </p><p>

“No offence Mr. Patrick, but the surnames Gauge and DeColt are sort of our calling cards. We’re part of two of the top wrestling dynasties in the world. Synonymous with talent and skill.”</p><p> </p><p>

“Really?” I replied, confused. “I’ve never heard of you guys.”</p><p> </p><p>

There was an awkward silence. Once of those ones where somebody looks like an idiot and the others in the room are too polite to mention it. I ignored it.</p><p> </p><p>

“So we got a deal?” I followed up.</p><p> </p><p>

They both shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>

So with those two signed up, I finally had my starting roster, ready to go.</p><p> </p><p>

<strong><span style="text-decoration:underline;">All-Star Wrestling</span></strong></p><p> </p><p>

<strong>Main Event</strong></p><p>

Remmy Skye (Face)</p><p>

Texas Pete Houston (Heel)</p><p>

Dastardly Dave Wallace (Heel)</p><p>

The Destroyer #1 w/ Preacher Travis Century (Heel)</p><p>

Colossal Kong w/ Preacher Travis Century (Heel)</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>Upper Midcard</strong></p><p>

Ace Youngblood (Face)</p><p>

Syd Collier (Heel)</p><p>

Jebediah (Face)</p><p>

Gregory ‘Six Gauge’ McGraw (Face)</p><p> </p><p>


Roger Monteiro (Face)</p><p>

Outlaw Wes Revell (Heel)</p><p>

Cowboy Buck Winchester (Heel)</p><p>

Bullet Bob Casey (Heel)</p><p>

Ricky the Colt (Face)</p><p>

Jason Romo (Heel)</p><p>

Bradley Blaze w/ Sunshine (Face)</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>Lower Midcard</strong></p><p>

Extraordinario Jr. (Face)</p><p>

The Destroyer #2 w/ Preacher Travis Century (Heel)</p><p>

Ralph Liotta (Heel)</p><p> </p><p>


El Mitico Jr. (Face)</p><p>

Al Shuffleton (Face)</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>Enhancement Talent</strong></p><p>

Nigel Svensson (Face)</p><p>

Felipe Caballero (Heel)</p><p> </p><p>


Thomas Patrick (Me)</p><p> </p><p>


Peter Michaels</p><p>

Shane Sneer</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>Road Agent</strong></p><p>

Pistol Pete Hall</p><p> </p><p>

Things could only get better from here. </p><p> </p><p>


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<p>Hi all, this is going to be a diary which puts a different spin on my '<a href="http://www.greydogsoftware.com/forum/showthread.php?t=541249" rel="external nofollow">Welcome to New York...</a>' story. This time, instead of taking a struggling independent promotion and try and get them to a state of being noticed, this time I'm focusing on the story elements a little more and giving myself a stonking great budget, a fun, spendy owner AND a regional company straight away. Oh and my own arena at games start.</p><p> </p><p>

Basically I want to see what damage I can do to a game when I've got all the funding I could possibly need and go a more 'Eric Bischoff takes over WCW' type deal. But obviously with a Texan flavour. I would imagine the show updates will take a little longer to produce than the New York diary, but I'm hopeful we'll tell a fun story, with some new (and some returning) characters from my last diary.</p><p> </p><p>

Obviously the last time I ran a Texan promotion it ended in a strange double-suicide, so this time I've ripped off elements of that story, but will hopefully NOT have Texas Pete as the truly sad story he was last time. Hell he might not even last that long in my promotion...</p><p> </p><p>

Who am I kidding? I'm going to puh him to the MOON!</p><p> </p><p>


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<blockquote data-ipsquote="" class="ipsQuote" data-ipsquote-contentapp="forums" data-ipsquote-contenttype="forums" data-ipsquote-contentid="45527" data-ipsquote-contentclass="forums_Topic"><div>strange double-suicide</div></blockquote><p> </p><p> That's something... <img alt=":(" data-src="//content.invisioncic.com/g322608/emoticons/frown.png.e6b571745a30fe6a6f2e918994141a47.png" src="<___base_url___>/applications/core/interface/js/spacer.png" /></p>
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<blockquote data-ipsquote="" class="ipsQuote" data-ipsquote-username="Pteroid" data-cite="Pteroid" data-ipsquote-contentapp="forums" data-ipsquote-contenttype="forums" data-ipsquote-contentid="45527" data-ipsquote-contentclass="forums_Topic"><div>I love how Brutus being a massive schmuck is why the timeline split.</div></blockquote><p> </p><p> I had the exact same reaction. Any callbacks to the NYCW diary are welcome ones. Perhaps Vessey can continue to reach out every once in a while?</p>
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<blockquote data-ipsquote="" class="ipsQuote" data-ipsquote-username="HRTVAndrew" data-cite="HRTVAndrew" data-ipsquote-contentapp="forums" data-ipsquote-contenttype="forums" data-ipsquote-contentid="45527" data-ipsquote-contentclass="forums_Topic"><div>I had the exact same reaction. Any callbacks to the NYCW diary are welcome ones. Perhaps Vessey can continue to reach out every once in a while?</div></blockquote><p> </p><p> Vessey should be out to bury him. What's more entertaining than a <em>mafioso</em> showing up in Sanctuary to try and take him out?</p>
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<blockquote data-ipsquote="" class="ipsQuote" data-ipsquote-username="BigJay2003" data-cite="BigJay2003" data-ipsquote-contentapp="forums" data-ipsquote-contenttype="forums" data-ipsquote-contentid="45527" data-ipsquote-contentclass="forums_Topic"><div>Vessey should be out to bury him. What's more entertaining than a <em>mafioso</em> showing up in Sanctuary to try and take him out?</div></blockquote><p> </p><p> Don't think that thought hadn't crossed my mind a few times. Probably going to get show 1 up over the weekend, until then, the roster is above and everything else is ready to go. This time I might use some graphics for the diary too with images of the workers and logos for the shows etc to represent the increased production values of the company as a whole.</p>
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<p>Steers, Cheers and beers… Texas FOREVER!</p><p> </p><p>

The New Year kicked off with news that legendary women’s wrestler Heidi Brooks had sadly passed away. I’d never actually heard of her, but apparently she was a person. Larry Wood, a genius intellect wild man hung up his boots for good too.</p><p> </p><p>

Over in our neighbouring CZCW, they ran a show called Revolution which was main evented by Nicolas Lopez defeating Super Ninja and Air Attack Weasel (Dastardly Dave Wallace to us) to retain his COTT World Title. I asked Teddy was the COTT was and he didn’t know, or care.</p><p> </p><p>

One of the top three companies in the world; SWF called-up someone called Masked Patriot from their developmental territory RIPW. That was a neat idea and one I’d probably look into getting for us down the line, providing we didn’t burn through all of Teddy’s money by then.</p><p> </p><p>

So it was time for our first show and the backstage area was brimming with energy. The Destroyer #1 made pancakes for everyone, while Bradley Blaze entertained everyone with road stories. Elsewhere, his valet Sunshine was hauled in front of wrestler’s court, overseen by Judge Pete Hall. Being so publicly shamed helped to improve her behaviour. Well she’s only young and impressionable.</p><p> </p><p>

</p><div style="text-align:center;"><p><strong>Thursday in Texas</strong></p><p>

The Sportatorium, Sanctuary, Texas, Mid South</p><p>

Thursday, Week 1, January 2016</p><p>

Attendance: 3,909</p></div><p></p><p></p><p> </p><p>

<strong>ANGLE:</strong> To the sound of gunshots, Pistol Pete Hall sauntered down to the ring;</p><p>

“My dear Texan friends, it is my pleasure to introduce to you, All-Star Wrestling… from Texas. We’ve got a stacked card tonight with some of the toughest SOBs in the wrasslin world. Things are likely to get out of hand, which is fine by me. BUT, I’m here to say, if anyone oversteps the mark I’ll be on hand to personally give them the whupping of a lifetime. Cos I’m Pistol Pete Hall, the Sheriff of ASW.”</p><p>


That’s right, along with being our road agent, the huge Texan is also an authority figure. He shouldn’t need to be used much, but it’s always good to have a clear power-broker on the scene. Decent promo from the old boy too.</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>TAG TEAM MATCH:</strong> Outlaw Wes Revell and Cowboy Buck Winchester defeated Ace Youngblood and Roger Monteiro in 7:37 when Cowboy Buck Winchester defeated Ace Youngblood by pinfall, illegally using the ropes for leverage. <strong>(E+)</strong></p><p>

And thus, ASW was born. We start, as all good Texan promotions should, with a horribly stereotypical cowboys and Indians affair. But it’s 2016, so the ‘Indians’ (or native Americans to be correct) are the honourable good guys and the cowboys are the a**holes. Match was something of a disappointment, mainly due to Roger Monteiro, who looked AWFUL out there. Still they both at least looked like proper tag teams.</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>TRIPLE THREAT MATCH:</strong> Syd Collier defeated Al Shuffleton and Felipe Caballero in 8:22 when Syd Collier defeated Alistair Shuffleton by submission with a Texas Cloverleaf. <strong>(E+)</strong></p><p>

Syd might be a city slicker from the East Coast, but if he keeps using the Texas Cloverleaf people will eventually come to… not like him, but respect him. The jobbers do their job, so to speak, but it occurs to me that so few of our guys are recognisable in Texas that the crowd are still trying to figure out who they like.</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>ANGLE:</strong> Generic Cowboy music plays and out come Gregory ‘Six Gauge’ McGraw and his tag team partner Ricky the Colt. Tonight, apparently, they’re going to teach Preacher Travis Century and his goons The Destroyers a lesson in Texas-style manners. By kicking their a**es. <strong>(D)</strong></p><p>

Despite neither man being remotely Texan, the crowd enjoyed seeing them and even showered them with chants “We know who you are!” I may have underestimated just how knowledgeable everyone else in the Sportatorium was about wrestling.</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>TAG TEAM MATCH:</strong> Ricky the Colt and Gregory McGraw defeated The Destroyers in 12:50 when Gregory McGraw defeated The Destroyer #2 by submission with a Proton Lock. <strong>(C-)</strong></p><p>

Phew-ey! What a match! My new signings immediately pay dividends and the two masked youngsters more than hold their own too. Match of the night so far, and frankly unlikely to be topped until the main event. Again both teams looked comfortable with each other, so we know they can continue teaming for now.</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>ANGLE:</strong> ‘The Saucy Swede’ Nigel Svensson is out with a Texan flag. He starts randomly saying words in a thick Swedish accent like ‘Alamo, Cowboys, Texans and Troy Aikman.’ As he lists every conceivable Texan word he can think of Colossal Kong appears behind him and throws him into the ring. <strong>(D-)</strong></p><p> </p><p>

<strong>SINGLES MATCH:</strong> Colossal Kong defeated Nigel Svensson in 8:23 by pinfall with a Colossus Avalanche. <strong>(E+)</strong></p><p>

Simple squash match to make Kong look like a killer. It worked a treat and despite him very obviously being a bad guy, the crowd chanted ‘Kong’s gonna kill you’ throughout. Texans were an odd species. </p><p> </p><p>

<strong>TAG TEAM MATCH:</strong> Jason Romo and Ralph Liotta defeated Extraordinario Jr and El Mítico Jr in 8:22 when Jason Romo defeated Extraordinario Jr by submission with a Blueprint after blatantly cheating. <strong>(D-)</strong></p><p>

Just a chance to try out some more teams to see if any jump off the page. Both were fine, if unspectacular debuts with the cocky, good-looking guys getting the win over their Mexican counterparts. Considering their obvious talents, this match was something of a disappointment. But hey, at least the crowd cheered a little for luchadors, which is what I actually wanted.</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>SINGLES MATCH:</strong> Darstadly Dave Wallace defeated Jebediah in 9:51 by pinfall with an Air Attack Ace. <strong>(D-)</strong></p><p>

Another disappointing match as the former Air Attack Weasel debuted his egotistical new gimmick to rapturous apathy. Jebediah is very much a ‘what you see if what you get’ kind of guy. And what you get is a surprisingly agile Amish-type character. Feels like he might be destined for a tag team run when all is said and done.</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>ANGLE:</strong> Bradley Blaze is out with his valet Sunshine. He’s ready to make a mark here in his home state by defeating one of the toughest, and ugliest guys he’s ever seen. Sure ‘Bullet’ might be intimidating to some people, but with Sunshine in his corner, anything is possible. <strong>(E)</strong></p><p>

What the Hell was that? Blaze was ok, although he looked like he normally struggles to actualy, y’know, speak. But Sunshine, whose only role was to stand their looking pretty, couldn’t even do that. Robotic isn’t the word. So I’ll be moving her away from Blaze pretty hastily as their have absolutely zero chemistry.</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>SINGLES MATCH:</strong> Bradley Blaze defeated Bob Casey in 13:06 by disqualification after Sunshine accidentally hit him with a chair. <strong>(E+)</strong></p><p>

Well there we go, a ready-made reason for him to ditch his ‘precious Sunshine.’ Casey loses, but in the most underwhelming way as absolutely no stars have been made here tonight.</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>ANGLE:</strong> Skye and Texas Pete each make an elaborate entrance. Remmy with a surf board and Pete with a bottle of whisky and a lasso. <strong>(D)</strong></p><p>

Should I be concerned about the whisky? </p><p> </p><p>

<strong>SINGLES MATCH:</strong> Texas Pete Houston defeated Remmy Skye in 24:39 by count out after The Destroyers and Preacher Travis Century beat down Remmy outside the ring. <strong>(D)</strong></p><p>

So this match was a crushing disappointment although the crowd responded reasonably well to the hot finish. My biggest concern was Pete, whose behaviour during the match was… well let’s call a spade a spade here. He was hammered. Have I made a terrible mistake booking him to win straight away?</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>ANGLE:</strong> Remmy Skye is being attacked, three-on-one, by Texas Pete Houston and The Destroyers in the ring. Seeing the assault, Bradley Blaze comes running in and fights all three of them off, saving Skye from a serious beating. <strong>(E+)</strong></p><p>

Our attempts to make Blaze the hero of the promotion are not overwhelmingly positive in their outcome. Still, perseverance is key in this sort of thing. Pete, having delivered said beatdown was promptly sick on the front row of fans. Thankfully they seemed happy to just be involved.</p><p> </p><p>

<strong>OVERALL: D+</strong></p><p> </p><p>

Well, that was… a show that happened. The slick production rating obviously made us seem way more professional than we actually were. So that’s cool. Teddy seemed to enjoy himself too, seeing as he personally came to thank Pete and Remmy for the main event and shared a beer with them both. That didn’t seem the most responsible thing to do.</p><p> </p><p>

As my role dictates, I pulled Pete aside and told him in no uncertain terms that his behaviour would not be tolerated going forward. He smiled in response and was sick on my shoes.</p><p> </p><p>

I got the feeling he didn’t take me seriously. Luckily Remmy didn’t seem bothered about the condition of Pete and he just giggled as I chatted with the hulking great cowboy. He’s an odd dude that Remmy Skye.</p><p> </p><p>

Next time on Texas Forever… We introduce a qualifiers for our first titles and we try and cover for Pete by burying him deep in tag team matches…</p>

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