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Northstar Wrestling Federation


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In Alaska, there's not much to do at night except drink and fight. I aim to deliver quality on the latter, while providing plenty of the former. My name is Andrew Sheeler, and I'm a wrestling promoter. I founded the Northstar Wrestling Promotion with money I borrowed from a surly Italian guy named Papa Joe, after putting my kidneys up for collateral. My dream? To bring a wrestling renaissance to the good ole U.S. of A. For too long the Japanese feds have dominated the market in terms of quality, while Tommy Cornell and Jerry Eisen have their little pissing match here in America. A few years back I heard of a quaint little promotion run by our friends across the pond in jolly old England by the name of 21st Century Wrestling, with a radical new outlook and cutting edge ideas. A blend, if you will, between the showmanship of sports entertainment and the skill of a pure or hybrid wrestling product. And that brings us to the now. I have just opened the doors to my new promotion. It's time to take the wrestling world by storm. It's time for Northstar Wrestling Federation. If only I could find some quality talent...
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It wasn't easy, I'll tell you that now. Then again, if I'd gone the easy route, I'd be selling insurance somewhere. Or something. Anyway, it wasn't easy, but I managed to assemble a top flight roster in relatively short order. I timed the founding of the NWF with the new year, with the hopes that some of the New Year's enthusiasm would make workers more likely to not slam the door in my face. With the exception of a most unfortunate incident with Cliff Wilson, which involved only a few doors to my face and which was totally a misunderstanding, I managed to acquire some of the top talent in North America. At first things were going pretty good. I had made a list of "Must-Have" workers that I felt would make my promotion really shine. I eyeballed the list one last time before I started making calls and attending interviews: a young and unsigned prodigy high-flyer by the name of American Elemental, the unsigned Iron Man, Tim Westybrook, the technical powerhouse Samoan Machine of GCG...my main event scene was looking pretty good. In fairly short order, I'd signed all three and was looking a little further down the card, for some supporting roles, as well as more in-ring workers. Some came in as references, others I had to hunt down, and I may or may not have blackmailed one into joining by promising to release certain pictures to his wife. Things were going swimmingly. Jacob Jett, Flemmy Lemming, Erik Strong all picked up for a song. The beautiful Principessa and the Northwest women's sensation J. Ro? Signed and worth every penny. Jez McArthuar was signed to ref, Curt O'Mally as our road agent, and Rock Downpour became our new play-by-play man. Then things turned ugly. It started when J. Ro gave me the recommendation to hire Sue Danes. I had seen some of her work while talent scouting and agreed she'd be a valuable asset. One long distance phone call from Fairbanks later...well...It wasn't pretty. Put simply, she felt that her services were worth far more than I thought they were, and when she held out for more money, I kindly told her where she could take that money and shove it. I think she hung up on me then. Well, it's not like I entered this business to makes friends. Besides, I had our first event coming up, the last thing I needed to worry about was some money-grubbing colour (wo)man. So I hired a Canadian no-name and moved on. It was just a few short weeks until our first event, NWF Arctic Rumble.
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It wasn't easy, I'll tell you that now. Then again, if I'd gone the easy route, I'd be selling insurance somewhere. Or something. Anyway, it wasn't easy, but I managed to assemble a top flight roster in relatively short order. I timed the founding of the NWF with the new year, with the hopes that some of the New Year's enthusiasm would make workers more likely to not slam the door in my face. With the exception of a most unfortunate incident with Cliff Wilson, which involved only a few doors to my face and which was totally a misunderstanding, I managed to acquire some of the top talent in North America. At first things were going pretty good. I had made a list of "Must-Have" workers that I felt would make my promotion really shine. I eyeballed the list one last time before I started making calls and attending interviews: a young and unsigned prodigy high-flyer by the name of American Elemental, the unsigned Iron Man, Tim Westybrook, the technical powerhouse Samoan Machine of GCG...my main event scene was looking pretty good. In fairly short order, I'd signed all three and was looking a little further down the card, for some supporting roles, as well as more in-ring workers. Some came in as references, others I had to hunt down, and I may or may not have blackmailed one into joining by promising to release certain pictures to his wife. Things were going swimmingly. Jacob Jett, Flemmy Lemming, Erik Strong all picked up for a song. The beautiful Principessa and the Northwest women's sensation J. Ro? Signed and worth every penny. Jez McArthuar was signed to ref, Curt O'Mally as our road agent, and Rock Downpour became our new play-by-play man. Then things turned ugly. It started when J. Ro gave me the recommendation to hire Sue Danes. I had seen some of her work while talent scouting and agreed she'd be a valuable asset. One long distance phone call from Fairbanks later...well...It wasn't pretty. Put simply, she felt that her services were worth far more than I thought they were, and when she held out for more money, I kindly told her where she could take that money and shove it. I think she hung up on me then. Well, it's not like I entered this business to makes friends. Besides, I had our first event coming up, the last thing I needed to worry about was some money-grubbing colour (wo)man. So I hired a Canadian no-name and moved on. It was just a few short weeks until our first event, NWF Arctic Rumble.
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