Storyline Pack Mentalitiy

Discussion in 'Internet Wrestling Titles' started by Jet Starr, Aug 31, 2016.

  1. Slate Bass is sitting in a furry chair, with a rather calm looking Rottweiler laying by his side. They are in Slate's living room, complete with a white rug, various expensive/funky decorations strewn around the room, and rather abstract paintings along the wall behind him.
    Slate: Good boy.
    Slate reaches over and runs his hand over the dogs head.
    Slate: Why hello there, and welcome to my humble pimpin' palace, the celestial central, my delectable dwelling.
    Slate tugs at the Rottweiler's collar, making it stand up.
    Slate: You see this beauty right here? This magnificent specimen by my side is the best friend of the man that sits before you. His name, is Geoffrey, and Geoffrey recognizes who the master is. Isn't that right Geoffrey?
    Slate looks over towards Geoffrey, who walks in a circle while wagging his tail before sitting at Slate's feet.
    Slate: Allow me to educate you all on an aspect of the canine world. You see baby, dogs like little ol' Geoffrey here have what they call a pack mentality. This means there is one leader, the Alpha.
    Slate smirks at the camera and tips his fedora.
    Slate: The second in command, known as the Beta.
    Geoffrey barks and pants.
    Slate: Then there's everyone else...then there's what I consider all of you...then there's the cretins that inhabit and spectate the world of IWT. The lowest in the chain and the weakest in the pack...that is the Omega, that is where you all fall in line. All. Behind. Slate. Bass.
    Slate stands and begins walking towards a window. The camera, now behind Slate, reveals a gorgeous view of Jacksonville, Florida and Slate's backyard complete with a very large pool.
    Slate whistles for Geoffrey, who quickly walks over.

    Slate: I am the Head Pimp in Charge, the numba' one playa' in this game they call sports entertainment, and the tippity-top in the hierarchy of life. Cameraman, you see all that stands before you in my very own backyard? Go on, tell me, what do you see?
    The cameraman zooms in through the window, then pulls back to focus on Slate.
    Slate: That. Is what I call success. I may be new here to IWT, but I am not new to success. Wherever I've been and whatever I've done, I've always blazed one hell of a funky trail, made money and left my mark, jack.
    Slate motions with his finger for the cameraman to follow him and Geoffrey to his backyard.
    Slate: This is a message to all the can't-be's, the wannabe's, the wish-they-could-be's, the has-beens, the won't-be's and the never-were's...Ain't nobody as fresh as the Jive Talkin', Pimp Walkin', Funk Lovin', Booty Whippin' Slate Bass...And soon, all will learn their place, daddy.
    Slate walks over to his backyard's minibar and pours himself a Purple Haze. He takes a sip as Geoffrey takes a dip in the pool.
    Slate: The only thing more refreshing that this drink, is my presence in IWT. I'm all about being the best, and to do that, it means giving a big...funk you to the rest.
    Slate smirks, takes the fedora off his head, and places it on the mini bar.
    Slate: So please excuse me while I blitz the competition...and if you don't believe me...just watch, playas.
    Slate looks to the upper left, towards the bright sun. The camera moves to get the sun in view and the feed slowly fades to black.

    • Like Like x 8
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  2. Loved it, only problem I had was the pink color made it a bit hard for me to read cleanly, had to do a few double checks at each description
  3. My boy. We're going to rule the tag division soon enough

    • Agree Agree x 1
  4. You cheeky bastard
    • Zing! Zing! x 1
  5. Don't get comfy, pal.
  6. Yeah, I can see that. I'm fucking around with fonts and colors to see what the best combination is.