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'CuttingEDGE' | Extreme |

Started by Emmett Murdock, April 06, 2023, 10:37:17 PM

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Emmett Murdock

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Date Posted:01-19-2010 10:03 PMCopy HTML

straighteneremmett.png picture by Freezer0
out of characterI have been tired but had to get this done.

THE STRAIGHT CUT:
Emmett Kirk Murdock Junior. 'Loving life. It was paradise each and every day. In poker, his straight flush's were impeccable as was his taste in women that circulated around his table while he visited Vegas' own Treasure Island. Games were partial fun, 'addictive as it was smoking to the very tip of the lit cigarette and for the record, they were something of the time. The Straightener had his fun here and there but most of the days he lived, they were gray and precarious. Not that he was a dull man of little adventure, but he led a life of risk and didn't let anyone follow him. Murdock Jr was a Cajun survivor. Those that did get in close proximity to him, when they gave one scrutiny to his ocean blue eyes -- they noticed he didn't blink like a normal man. Emmett was alert every minute of the day, his muscles were tight but his nerves were loosened up as he did Yoga. Murdock Jr. had traits of a predator but also of a rattling snake with a slithering proposal. It made him the perfect soldier of the Apocalypse but many didn't get that part until he rained their parade. Trouble bawled his name.
Young, Athletic, and Ruthless. Undying confidence and primed for a good fight.
Those same attributes of unwavering fortitude are what granted him that win on the Sandman on last week's edition of Extreme. Without uncertainty of course. It was his debut match and he didn't let the Sandman's trail of accomplishments put a weight on his confidence, let alone a blindfold of doubt. He came, he saw, and he conquered. He made himself a glorious night that reached the headlines, but not for the former SEF Heavyweight Champion who took a stroke on his ego that night. It was a steep fall to lose to a rookie; that was the point. Murdock Jr. would assume that the Sandman would stay out of his way from that encounter, but days passed, hours and minutes until the winds of change pushed zephyrs towards his direction. Thenceforth Murdock Jr. would receive a text message on his cell phone where it would palpably state..
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
"Emmett Murdock, you are scheduled to team up with the Sandman against Bobby James and Diamond Dogg. Good luck, kid."
Holy fucking Ramones...
It was cynical. Crickets and flickering lights couldn't be heard at night, possibly they were as numb as Murdock Jr. was at the revelation. Teaming with his adversary wasn't necessarily a good idea; it would strike in-ring animosity or a civil war at the minimum. A terrible decision from the General Manager/Owner. In spite of that however, the Straightener buckled himself tight and went on his road trip to Memphis, Tennessee. No complains, no pretexts in why to miss out.  Straightforwardness was his style of life with a few shrugs to those that questioned him. Business was business, and he wasn't going to plunge down because his partner was sour over his loss. Not at his expense. Bobby James and Diamond Dogg; another sporadic and spontaneous pairing, but even so they were asking for the Death Blow.
Watching them was like sitting at home, 'looking at sheep baa through the television monitor for consecutive hours. BAAAH this, BAAAH that... who really gave a damn about a cliché?
Emmett had a petite glimpse of them, and it wasn't impressive. It wouldn't captivate even the infantile imagination of a toddler. They barely stood in the ring. They barely held their posture, and barely flourished. They barely produced the crops that would make the business grow, where as Murdock Jr. -- he was his own orchard. He manifested his legacy in every direction. 'Each inscribed potential success. None of this was going to be proven as a hoax come Extreme.
SEF came with a new Age. And with that Age, it came with a promise. An unbreakable oath that broke those that tried to outlaw it.
If they didn't know who author of this story was -- they would distinguish him through Murdock Jr. The new light of the end of the tunnel. A Proverbial Shredder if that. HIS... Story.
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╬ the JADE Cross
Making a movement to perfect the remedy to success and aiding the Wrestling World.

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Now entering... the Cutting Edge.
12:09pm. The ideal night for constructing a volatile attack.
A short fuse of fire from black coal was perceived under a structure of ash-coated red bricks. The scenery was vague and unclear with obscurity in every angle bar the fireplace that illuminated a portion of the room. It was difficult for the camera to catch anything obvious on its lenses, any little clue of what this was really, but it drew near to where a ligneous table was. Hammers, pallets, vices and quadrilateral sheets of iron and steel laid over it. All of which appeared to have been put in recent use. It was then where the vociferous reverberation of a colliding hammer with steel was heard. As the cameras shifted their attention left, a shadowed contour was seen raising and driving the outline of hammer down repeatedly -- a nameless blacksmith was at work. The item that received the constant clouts was thin and long with a jagged end. Half of it was heated in that ruby hue that launched sparks of fire from each collision.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
The location was desolated with the exclusion of one working man and his equipment. People may have hit away to slumber in their homes, but the Blacksmith kept his eyes open; he was as vigorous as he was when the morning sun roamed over the city. Each hit of the hammer was louder than the other as the cameras approached him. Drops of his perspiration catapulted onto the sage paving as he grit his teeth with each swing.
He was serene, diligent and soundless. Sculpted like the David too.
He may have been indiscernible as he worked at pace, but as the cameras moved toward an angle where the lantern shed a portion of light to him -- they noticed Emmett Murdock. Stains of inky dirt may have stroked some parts of his face, but he didn't seem to mind. His breath was normal without signs of exhaustion, and it took a few seconds of observation for him to eye the camera. It all then fell into place.
The Straightener: "In the past, in this cretaceous period, most of our species relied on sharp rocks and teeth of beasts for weapons. They didn't have gun powder and they didn't discover the alloys beneath the Earth they walked in. Rocks were their everything, their homes, barriers and weapons -- overtime they would discover new tools for weapons or use their bare hands to turn the ivory of a mammoth into a sword or an arrowhead. Bows and arrows would come, then the crossbows in Medieval times -- and later the guns. The Japanese relied on their Bushido, and with that their Katana's. That last for a while until they began trading with foreigners which would lead to them having possession of cannons and pistols. Swords were still put in use, but most inclined to use a one trigger killer. Each year, around the world the countries would endeavor to create the most powerful weapon to be the ultimate power in the world. It was that greed hunger that led to two wars and tyranny, until the United States proved to be the prevailing country with the chemical formula of the Atom Bomb. Even up until this very day, most are trying to construct the inimitable and most destructive weapon. It's a process we can simply denote as -- evolution."
He gave one last strike to the piece of metal in the anvil before dropping his hammer onto it. Using the backside of his right hand, he scoured the moisture of his forehead off with one wipe. It left him apt to continue his promo.
The Straightener: "The newer generation enters and takes what knowledge has been bestowed by founding fathers and precedents to alter it and add more au courant modifications. They learn from the past to pave a brighter future. In a sense, it's like stepping into another level. Wrestling wise, all these legends and old timers are a step behind the new guys. They think that most of us rookies have something to learn from them, perhaps something of holy grail potency that could make us as good as them. They like to look at us and tell us that we have dues to pay. I don't think, I digress. With last week's respect, I could emphasize with fact alone that those that have something to learn -- are the ones that still live in the past. They need to see how outmoded they really are."
Murdock turned back toward the woodened table to pick up an OC Blade tong with both hands whilst opening its upper mouth to clench the piece of heated metal. Wearing his black apron and gloves for protection, he carried this blade onto a bucket of cold water. Vapor fumed from effect of the hot and cold compound, and while it did, Emmett turned back to eye the camera.
The Straightener: "It's amazing how much the world changes overtime, and what valuable information it can tell at the same time. What would we be without history? Nothing really, but if we can enhance what we already know and take it to the next level -- then that's making a new history. I know some by pure observation, while there are those that think they know it all or assume that they are blessed with a foreseeable win because they fought who... Spiderman? And some dude that sounds like a damn car?  Okay, a triple threat is a good match -- but a Hardcore match is a level of a millennia above that. Diamond Dogg and this Bobby James won their matches, but sadly none of them were relevant. If you notice, Sandman and I had the match of that week -- we gave a better fight than those two in one combined effort. Why am I the Straightener, Bobby and Diamond Dogg? Because I fix the curvature by lining it up in one straight vertical or horizontal line. I put people in their place. In your wrestling experience this week, you will decipher right from wrong and best from worst when I straighten your feeble outlook in this match by crushing your hopes in winning first. And after that, giving you that loss in your record would truly solidify that you misjudged me. 'At least half of this team of Murdock and Sandman. You don't seem to get it; you paint me as if I had no common sense, but then again you don't really know me to voice an opinion. The Sandman and I have our fight going on, but dessert has been served in this interval of a week and we will deal with it before continuing with our business. Your loss is your ignorance to accept the possibilities, Bobby. You may want to rethink a profession and side with making fortune cookies. I'm starting to think that's where you got your "Boston's Best" bravado because in authenticity of talent -- you're no better than a kid trying to predict the weather."
He heaved the blade with the tong over to the table and laid it there. His finger was placed in front of the camera; it had been slightly crunched by the hammer but he didn't complain about it. It wanted to burst in blood but his fingernail contained it -- it only made its lower half blue.
The Straightener: "It hurts alright. It hurts like any other bump, sting, or piercing. Our minds keep us sentient of these feelings; we are not numb. But this hurts as much as it affects my profession in this company by teaming with someone who would preferably continue from where we left off last week than make a pansy tag. This team hurts both of our prides, it hurts our track records as it does our bloodthirsty mentalities that we will not finish what we began. It's a twist, a curveball at that; we're on the same page for this match and  the positive panorama of that is that if we do happen to succeed we will both have gold around our waists. The team is incongruous but it won't plummet. Whatever animosity is between us will fade in this match like the pain in this finger. There is a common purpose. I won't complain nor expect a smile from a jovial Sandman -- 'just do what's necessary to progress like evolution. I mean, why ruin my chances for some gold, Bobby and Diamond Stutter? You motherfucker you. Emmett Murdock loves violence too. Emmett Murdock thinks you aren't calculating well what you're doing. Emmett Murdock says you talk too much shit. Emmett Murdock says you need to shut up, Stone Cold knock-off. The only thing that you prove to be more difficult than the Sandman in, is having some logical reasoning. I mean you are a white man that talks... hood? You're pissing on the walls, attacking people from behind, and with that, you are somehow 'dangerous'? ...Right. You need to keep thinking. Also, that whole shoving a kendo stick up sandman's ass and making it hurt oh so good -- that didn't sound right one bit. You may want to rethink that too."
Murdock turned his awareness toward the blade on the table and hoisted it up from its handle before taking it to a belt sander for blades. It was in there where he would kick the switch from the bottom up to turn the machine on and lean the apex of the sword onto the spinning jagged wheel. A screeching sound was perceived from the collision of the two items as did bits of flames sparked out. Murdock was sharpening his weapon.
The Straightener: "Back before the eighties, hardly any wrestler had a personality. Nothing was trendy and over abused. The eighties came and most wrestlers were unique until the nineties. Everybody was fixated in that epoch with being the bad guy. They all wanted to have the spotlight for the most dangerous man -- it branches off even until today as you can tell with Diamond Dogg. It's not hard to figure out these people that think because they are bellicose they could tip the world on one direction. It's been more than a decade with that attitude around. It's a weapon alright, but I can look back and say, I can utilize that style too and make amendments to it. The sword is an antique weapon that the Celtics and the Spaniards used. Very few use it today because everybody loves gun like wrestlers love to be the brute badass. In wrestling, technical, submissive, and high flying are the earliest styles of weapons to compete with. I can use a sword today, as I could also use any of those styles and still conquer. With that I could redefine extreme. With every new mind, there are also new methods. Methods that most of the old days wouldn't ever dream of. Just like I can create an old weapon of the past that can pierce through any wall, I have the formula of conquest coded into my cerebral cortex from garnered history. With that knowledge I will devise the strategic move to get me the win this week when I step in that ring with or without the help of the Sandman. Also at that -- you can bet your revenues that I will give you that last strike of mercy that you've been calling for with your weak attempts to leave a blemish in my name. I'm stealing the sun and its luminosity, I made it quite clear already that my time was a new Camelot in professional wrestling. And if I want to be the one to shine, this Tag Team match would not be a predicament like it will be with taking care of the opposite team."
He stepped away from the machine, pulling the sword away in the process.
The Straightener: "You two think you have seen something. But you haven't seen anything yet. Your allegations don't cut through me because I bare an idea. And that idea of winning  is bulletproof. What Diamond Dogg and Bobby James need is one cutting edge strike to realize that there are others that can be just as tough -- or better than them."

Swinging the blade en route of the camera's lenses, Emmett severed the sight of the viewers in half until shortly after it became static. It wasn't until later that Emmett Murdock was heard of again.
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