[Chris Shipman]

 The scene opens up at a foggy cemetery at night. The fog swirls amongst the tombstones. A light winter’s breeze blows some foliage around the ground. As the camera pans around it comes to an un-kept part of the cemetery. There are cheap looking crosses in rows with little plaques on the bottom. As the view goes form cross to cross and the names on the plaques become visible, it is obvious these are no ordinary grave sites.  The eerie silence is broken by the sound of a shovel digging in dirt. Shipman is seen digging more graves and he seems happy.  He looks up, towards the camera and sets the shovel down. He sits on a pile of fresh dirt behind him.

Shipman: A last chance battle royal, which is what the future holds for me? Please as if last Climax Control wasn’t easy enough slamming Hydro with a London Calling. But to sweeten the deal, the winner of the battle royal gets to perform double duty and face Sephiroth Du Lac for a shot at the roulette championship. Well since I don’t know anybody here, I can guarantee not many here know about me, know my records in battle royals. They say a battle royal is one of the hardest matches ever. That is where they are wrong. For you see, I thrive for battle royals. Next to violence they are a specialty. I am eleven and one all time in battle royals, and even that one loss people still knew I was for real when I went up against nine legends of that federation, well eight legends and one man that could have liposuction and still be considered morbidly obese. I only lost that match to a man who could never laced my boots one on one, but that is another story. But hey, it’s all about challenges and I know after the impact I have made here in the SCW that I will have a target on my back heading into climax control. Whether it’s Blasted Monk, Johnny Ajax, Lord Raab, Joshua Acquin, or the fan favorite Bruce Evans that targets me, the fact will remain that it will be Shipman versus the world at climax control, and I will beat down and toss each and every one of you over that top rope just to prove my point that I am the one destined to be the meanest, toughest, most vicious roulette championship in SCW history.


Shipman stands up on the dirt pile and looks down at the graves he dug. Six crosses can be seen all lined up at the end of the row.

Shipman: This is almost like standing on top of the mountain.


Shipman chuckles to himself before going back to addressing the camera.

Shipman: Now normally I would do something like Shipman Theatre for this but not this time. No, this time I am just going to look at the list of men in front of me, and verbally assault them before they get into that ring and I continue to make believer out of them, the fans, and the rest of the so called roster of the SCW. Now let me do this with a twist. I will start with monsieur parle vous ding dong francais. For those that do not speak language of the frog, that means I am starting with the person who faces the victor of the battle royal Sephiroth Du Lac. Now just because he has a French name am I to assume he speaks French? Maybe not, I know lots of people with French names that can’t speak a word of the language, why they would want to is beyond me, but that is beside the point. Wait, wait, wait. Now I heard about this guy who should be known as Mr. Lake. He thinks he is a vampire. Well when I win the battle royal and pay a visit to Mr. Lake, he will not be the first “vampire” I have faced and he will not be the last. With the last vampire I faced, I almost inject him with a needle full of AIDS infected blood and I would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for his girlfriend sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong, but she disappeared shortly afterwards. Now you Seph, I know you are full of your little light tricks, like biting people, so on and so forth, in other words you fancy yourself a little sadomasochist party. They usually got fun lights, and biting, and the usual whips and chains. Hey maybe after our match I can give you the number of my dominatrix, she could set you up with something. After all, you are going to need some comfort as I clip your bat wings, and slap all over that ring on my way to the tournament finals.


Shipman slides down the dirt pile on his feet and begins walking through the cemetery. He takes a look back at his cemetery and spits over the cross that reads “Bill Barnhart Jr.”

Shipman: So now to the battle royal where we got a mish mash of everything in that ring. We have “The Original Psycho”, a ninja, some curtain jerker, an angry Nazi, some unknown, and then a man who appears to be the next in line on the path of destruction. You can all figure out who each of you are but for now I will address you all by name.

First at bat is Joshua, now what is your story? I did try to research but I got sidetracked by Brazilian Lesbian Fart Porn. It is so hot watching their hair blow in the “wind”. Does that concern you by how little I give a damn about you Joshua? I would rather jerk off to lesbians then prepare for you. Hell paint drying is more enjoyable to watching you or listening to you. I could go on and on about how little I care but then it would seem I care. I recommend you save yourself some dignity when you come to that ring at Climax Control, and just jump over the top right away because unlike everyone else in this match, they at least gave me a little something to talk about. Yes you may have gotten me to talk about lesbian sex, but this is still a family show, I think, and I can’t stand here all day talking about the sounds of two wet vaginas grinding against each other. Now if you do decide to stay in that ring and try to fight your way to the finals, well then I will just have to hurt you that much more, and I would really hate to have to mutilate you before you go and visit family for the holidays. Some be a man, do what is best for you and your family. I am sure you don’t want to bleed into the mashed potatoes.

Then there is a man who probably doesn’t celebrate Christmas, that Blasted Monk. I don’t know if he thinks he Yakuza, Triad, Ronin, or what. However I do find it funny, since at one time I was Reverend Chris Shipman, and now I am fighting a monk. This is a comedy, a tragic one but still a comedy. The Church of Shipman versus I am going to say Buddhist? Hell if it wasn’t for Buddha then people like that four hundred pound whale in the fifth row, stuffing her face with nachos and a two liter bottle of coke wouldn’t think she has the body of a god. So I will applaud your god for bringing self-esteem to the millions of fat bodies around the world. But that will not stop what I do in that ring when I trample your monk ass all over before I toss you over the top rope. What’s that? I am full of shit? Well yes, I have been a little constipated as of late but I got a little more fiber in my diet so we should be doing a lot better here in a bit. My question for you Monk is this though, do you really think some chops, slaps, kicks, Jackie Chan type shit is going to stop me? I have been thrown through piles of barbed wire, lit on fire, hell I was even attacked with a chainsaw and here I am still standing when if you look around and none of the people that perpetrated those attacks are here. Their careers lay in the graves back there where yours and the other five men of the evening will soon lie. Monk, try what you must but rest assured you will not be the one going on to face Mr. Lake for a spot in the finals.

Next on the hit parade is one, Johnny Ajax. A man who is your stereotypical wrestler. Some guy who comes out in his little tights, taunts the fans, plays off of them, jump around the ring a bit. You all know the whole shtick. So I guess in a sense this is where opposites attract? The wrestler versus the ultra-violent brawler that could care less about anyone’s safety. Good versus evil. But unlike Hollywood portrayals, this form of evil that I am always comes out on top. Johnny, you have to realize that being some pretty boy in that ring whether the fans love you or hate you, it only gets you so far. You have to do something different, or in my case be yourself. Sure there have been lots of “psychos” before me but only I strike fear, only I have the cajones to go that next step. How many people do you know cream themselves when surrounded by a cell of barbed wire? How many people do you know will attack an opponent with anything at his disposal including a human fetus? Mutilate dogs, chase reporters with a chainsaw? Hell I got a rap sheet ten miles long in the wrestling world, hell SCW is the only place left for little ole me. While you are there looking like something that just came out of some indie fed trying to make a name for yourself. Well I hope people already noticed you because when you step into the battle royal, there will be no time for you to make a name for yourself because I will beat you into a pulp and throw you limb by limb over that top rope. Maybe I will decapitate your legs and watch your torso squirm on the floor because after all, you are not eliminated until both feet touch the floor. Snicker at that all you want but just ask the people that know me, that have the possibility of being a legitimate threat as the sun coming up in the mornings. Johnny, I strongly suggest you put on your wrestling tights, lace up your boots real good, go join Monk in praying to Buddha that I will have mercy on you, and just hope I go into Climax Control in a good mood, because when all is said and done, and the rest of you are laying on the floor, it will be how I feel that day that will decide how badly I hurt you.

And then we travel across the pond to the angry German Raab. What can I say about him, like the people of Germany hide their past, Raab hides his face behind a mask. Maybe he is Hitler, after all his body was never recovered. All joking aside, I do feel like I got drafted to the minor leagues when I see the list of people I have in front of me. Raab you are no exception. Just like your country can’t win a war, you will not be winning the war at Climax Control. Even Ajax has a better chance at winning then you do, and he doesn’t even have a Jew’s chance in….ooh I may want to leave that one, bit of a touchy subject, but you get the idea. And to think before I started having to watch a few of your matches, I liked the stories I had about you, but then I discovered they were more myth then truth, but hey, at least people are talking about you. Hell technically I am talking about you so there you go, a bit of credibility to your career, you can go on and tell people you stepped in the ring with Chris Shipman, hell maybe you can put on your resume “embarrassed by Shipman, managed to walk away.” Hell if that doesn’t get you a job then nothing will. In all fairness though Raab, I could ramble on about some German wrestling stereotypes, or German history, but I’m not. What I will do though is ensure my spot in the finals after this week. Obviously I can’t do it here, I can only speak maybe some visual aids for the hearing impaired, but when we step into that ring, you will realize that not even a mask can save you from bleeding. Not even some skill will stop you from getting your ass kicked, and most importantly, not even mats on the floor will cushion the fall when you get tossed over that top rope. Hey that just gave me an idea! Raab, not to cut away from you for a minute but I got to ask something right here, right now.

SCW management, can you hear me. Good. Listen to this. Roulette Championship, you never know the stipulation, right? Well here, I know it isn’t quite the same but here is a stipulation for you. Take this battle royal, and make it four sides of death battle royal. One side, say tables, the next how about a mass pile of light tubes, the next let’s say a mound of barbed wire, and maybe a surprise for the last side. They say whoever goes on to win this just wanted more, well the will to survive just makes the want even greater.

See Raab that is how it is done. Now whether my idea is actually put forward will remain to be seen but with that said, either way I will have fun at Climax Control when I kick your Nazi ass all over that ring before launching you over that top rope and waving bye-bye. And then there were two.


Shipman stops at the gates to the cemetery. He looks back at all the graves, and looks in the direction of his cemetery in the back. A twisted smile slowly goes across his face.

Shipman: As I foresee, this match will come down to two men. Myself and Bruce Evans. It seems to me that to make an impact here, he will be the man to beat. He is the only man in this match who I am let to believe will give me the greatest challenge and one I am certainly looking forward to. Oh Bruce, everyone seems to have you pegged to walk away cleaning in this. The polls say you, the Vegas lines say you. Hell the cards say you. It’s almost like playing blackjack and you are showing a king, while I sit with a two. But what will happen in an odd turn of events is you hit, I stay. You draw a Jack, busting at 22, I reveal an ace winning with 13. What does playing Blackjack have to do with our match you might ask? Well it is simple really, it doesn’t matter what you do in the ring, outside the ring, in your bedroom, I will always be one up on you and I will always be the victor against you. Just like the rest of the SCW that haven’t heard the stories, you don’t know what I have or haven’t done, what is fact? What is fiction? I will always keep you guessing. I have proven myself that I can out swing anybody with a chair, and I can get as technical as the best of them. I am the greatest all around wrestler ever, and it is that that will aid me in winning yet another battle royal and once again goes a ripple in the calm landscape of the SCW. Seriously Bruce, what can you do to me? DO you really think you are going to toss me over that top rope? Hell all five of you are probably going to gang up on me like the men do to the women in India, and try to eliminate me, but you will all fail. That Roulette championship is mine and I am not going to let anyone especially you Bruce to stop me. That is the only reason I came to the SCW in the first place is to win that belt and become the most dominating Roulette Champion in history. By beating you Bruce, will just add more credibility to me. Hell look what I did to Hydro with barbed wire, and that was just a little side track because he thought he was going to get rid of me with a sneak attack. I didn’t even want anything with him. So imagine what I am going to do to you since you are in the way of my wants. Bruce, this is going to be a fight, but for you it is not a fight to advance to the semi-finals to face a vampire, it is going to be a fight for your career. I am the most sadistic son of a bitch to ever lace up a pair of boots, and I will prove that once again at the battle royal.

Well that is my list. So to my opponents in the battle royal, just remember one thing. The reason you are all here is because you lost your matches. Mine never happened. Therefore, in reality, it is me versus five losers. Deny it all you want but when push comes to shove I speak the gospel truth. So to those five men, and to my later victim Mr. Lake, say you’re your prayers, get your sleep, bring up your pain tolerance, and make sure you got good medical coverage because this week at Climax Control there will be no stopping me. I will be free to do as I please in that ring and that is exactly what I do to ensure it will be me in the finals and become the next Roulette champion. Toodles.

And with that Shipman exits the cemetery and walks down the street, disappearing behind the ever continuing wall of fog. His laughter can be heard echoing through the still night as the scene fades to black.