ryan black is ready to PWN

[King Mamba]

//>>||Prologue this Bitch||<<\\

Ryan Black had grown up a loving home. He was given what he wanted, when it was possible too. Black didn't consider himself a 'gang banger' or whatever the term was these days, despite coming from a pretty rough neighborhood of Los Angeles, California. So rough, Ryan had lost his father in front of his eyes at the age of 16. It was difficult to lose your hero in front of you, and Black went in a downward spiral from there. The trait inherited from his father of the love of cars drove him to the edge of the line, sometimes crossing the thin line. Not sometimes, all the time. But not by killing, selling drugs, being in a gang, no, he was street racer. He worked on his cars during the day, and left scorch marks on the streets of LA. He was a beast for two years, since the night he got his license to a day where a fatal accident where he was barely alive from. At the age of sixteen he had already left home, his mother had no way of getting him to come home. He lived on his own, figuratively, not in the literal sense. He made his living off winning races, huge races for huge prices. Black made money like no other, but where there was money, there was always enemies and jealousy. Ryan had built a strong, tight group of friends even before he had left home and these were the ones who had his backs, especially on those nights when it got a little too rough for one man too take. Even though he was a pretty chilled out guy, he was confident, talked smack (which he could/can/will always be able too back up.) Countless fights and brawls insued where ever it was possible and where it was possible, Black was in the center of it. He pretty much just wanted that sort of life too end, but it didn't, in a way. He still continues to fight, but this time for a different reason. Now it's for a real living, totally legal (sometimes), and certainly for his fun. He was just as great at this as he was at his street racing, which had caused him a few problems later on. (Jail, shot in the leg, release from DXX for a couple of months)

Could anyone believe the LA Star has spent an unbelievable year and some change in wrestling already. Seems like longer, but Ryan Black had been tearing up DXX, CGS that year and was now looking to tear up Pro Wrestling Novella and the Xtreme Wrestling Federation on the Anarchy brand. With the year of 2009 coming to an end, though, Black would quit DXX and CGS: Fusion / Exile to start these conquests at the beginning of January 2010! He'd begun as a new guy, 'Certainly,' the analysts said, 'this guy will not make it'. Well, they were fucking wrong. Spin that 180 Degrees and you'd get the truth. The LA Star was one of the best in the business now, a certified Hall of Famer. He had had conquered people like Tristagi, Steve Storme, Nick Awesome, Matt Hardy, E-Man, Anthony Zinc, Cody Rhodes, Chris Jericho, Christian, and everybody in between the awesome and lame! He had beaten them and stood over them proud of it. Ryan Black, LA Star, had no regrets of this. He was the one who was better and he was the one that deserved the win's. Black new celebrities of the caliber of Jay-Z, Kanye West, Eminem, Travis Pastrna, Kobe Bryant, Bob Burnquist, anybody who mattered. The old stomping grounds, DXX, were surely left shaken by Black leaving, after a run with the Platinum title, Rated title, Rated Tag Team Titles, Millennium, Trans-Continental, Unified Tag Team, Pure and Universe Heavyweight Champion. Among those were countless Double Champion reigns, and a handful of triple Champion reigns. He would have won King of the Ring 2009, if he had entered, but no, that belonged to his good friend. One of his best. His Heat World Order brotherin and fellow King in Arbitration, Immanuel Jackson. Better known as E-Man, Jackson tore up Rated, Mayhem, and Massacre at the same time that Black was terrorizing on his own right. They had faced off a couple of times, E-Man taking it in singles competiton, but Ryan taking it where it counted; a 4 Team Contest for the Rated Tag Team Titles; Black won with Tristagi. They were both involved in influential Stables at the time as well. E-Man in the Hood Tribe, Ryan in Death Row: both teams fought like cats and dogs, Bloods and Krypts, DJ Hipp and chronic masturbation, Nazi Midgets and the bear-jew. Hood Tribe had gone down under, as everyone finally realized leader DJ Hipp was a phony, piece of shit disguised as a wannabe of a wannabe gangster. Not even being good enough to be a wannabe, he had to be a wannabe of a wannabe. But they broke up and Death Row, knowing full well they'd be bored as fuck, dismantled.

Less than two months later, hWo, the Heat World Order would rise. Steve Storme and Tristagi, the founders, would include Immanuel Jackson and Ryan Black into their elite team, knowing full well they were bringing in two of the best in the business, that hadn't reached half their potential. Jackson and Black were on good terms now, the best of terms actually. They spent time together, and along with Storme, lived the party lifestyle. They were friends through anything now, flaming people, taking them down and after nights' of partying. The two were so close, they both joined the CGS company around the same time. Both Black and Jackson, now collectively known under Zeus's Phobia, wanted to conquer companies and promotions other than DXX. They both fought in singles matches, not against eachother, but they both came out on top in a few big matches; Immanuel having beaten Kevin Dahlia for contendership to Ryan's UltraViolent Title and Ryan Black having defeated Kyle Evers, the God King, in singles competition. So that was it, they both faced off against friend Steve Storme and Kyle Evers, the X-Rated Horror Show for the CGS Tag Team Championships. Black and E-Man wouldn't come out on top, as Storme was able to weaken them enough for Evers to sneak in and make Ryan tap out. With those Tag Title hopes gone, they were set to face eachother, one on one, for Ryan Black's UltraViolent Championship. Ryan didn't even make it to the match, and E-Man was named Champ. Steve Storme exalted his remach clause for it, and beat him, later vacating it, in what some called the 'worst pay-per-view in CGS History'. Ryan didn't care cause he was leaving. Him and E-Man were also going to conquer XWF together, along with Terrell Odom and Kyle Deathlocke, who Black had had problems with in the past. Nothing huge, just a mutual dislike. Now 'aquaintances' it seemed, the four of them were too be the Kingship in Arbitrary. Why was this all important? Black didn't know who'd he be facing in the Gauntlet match for the last spot in this tournament being held in Pro Wrestling Novella, the purer style of wrestling of the two companies he was a part of. Actually he did know, he'd be facing off against Terrell Odom because he would win the Gauntlet match.


//>>||Know what they say about big shoes? Big feet.||<<\\

Matt Morgan isn't the fucking Blueprint for Wrestlers. Ryan Black, Mr. LA Star, can be considered the Blueprint for wrestlers. Like Hova, Jay-Z is for rappers, Ryan is going to undisputedly be for wrestlers. He's young, talented, quick on his feet, in the head, great arsenal of moves, the looks. What else could you say, he was amazing and popular at that. Now? He was just walking down a street, seeing what he could do in New York City, New York. He was too be at the Old ECW Arena in Philadelphia in a few days for the grand Pro Wrestling Novella show, supposedly the start of one of the greatest Indy Wrestling shows of all time. It was supposed to be something great for all 'true' and 'pure' wrestling fans. Ryan felt a lot of this was a bunch of crap from people who had no/hardly any friends and lives, other than watching the 'pure' form of wrestling (even though it was way more high impact than the hardcore stuff.) But that was beside the point. Black was taking a stab at it. He'd won championships in his previous 2 promotions/companies and he'd go for the championship in Pro Wrestling Novella. He'd be entering the Gauntlet match set for the start of the *non-televised* 'event'. The winner would move on too face Terrell Odom in the Main Event to move up on the Super 8 Cup Invitational tournament. Very *original* to start a promotion with a tournament, wasn't it? But that was also beside the fucking point, as Ryan dove into a Starbucks he'd seen the sign of from a block away. He played with his all Black Los Angeles Dodger baseball cap as he waited in line. It was sort of out of place, seeing as how the Dodgers had had a disastrous divorce from this city, 'the greatest in the U.S.' some called it. Ryan knew better. Los Angeles was far better. When did you here about terrorist attacks on Los Angeles. Never. What governor or mayor of the state or city would send a plane low as fuck after these terrorist attacks? Scaring the fuck out of your people, that's why they did it. Who the fuck needs pictures at that time. Idiots.

Mayors going after hookers, baseball players dating 50 year old whores, basketball players getting high and doing stupid shit on websites, and the greatest thing ever, a football player shooting himself in the leg at a nightclub with an unregistered gun. Very smart! Then again, it was also out of place because the New York Yankees had won the World Series, and Ryan wondered how many of the people he saw wearing jerseys, t-shirts and base ball caps had only bought them AFTER Game 6. He had a rough estimate; the *entire* population of New York? 8.36 million if the LA Star was correct. Ryan waited in life for several minutes, as many more hurried people lined up behind him. Only a few of the customers stayed to enjoy their coffee in the shop; most took it and ran outside to catch a cab before they were late too their meetings, jobs, etc. Two fights had occured outside while Black waited; one of them a man versus a guy who had tried to steal his watch, while wearing it, and another between a woman who had mistakenly taken the wrong purse and the purse's true owner hadn't thought so. Nobody seemed to mind both of the fights. Some people, tourists by the look of those stupid 'I heart New York' t-shirts with the stupid heart shaped apple. They just stared and called for a cop, who seperated both people and didn't even speak to them, leaving to do some more wandering of the streets. Finally, Ryan Black, wearing an black t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and a pair of Flu Game, Air Jordans (named so because Michael Jordan had won an NBA Finals game to clinch one of six NBA Championships with the flu while wearing sneakers just like these), was next up to take his order. He smiled after the 15 minute wait as he walked up to the cashier; a heavy set, middle aged man with a thick red beard, and thick british accent.

Starbucks Cashier
Aight, mate. Good day ain't it? What can I get for yuh?

Having spent such a long time staring at other things, Black had also spent time looking on the menu behind the counter. He had decided on having what he always had, a frappuchino, grande. He gave his name, the cashier giving him a weird glance, a glow in his eyes, as Ryan paid for his coffee and now waited for the coffee, usually 10 minutes, but in New York City, 20 to 30 minutes. It was painful. Ryan just shrugged it off, knowing he could wait for the damn drink. He sat down in a booth, which he thought would keep him out of sight, but still able for him to be nosey and check out all the people that were in the joint, outside and those in line. He stopped and looked down at his side, his phone have just gone off with 'Im Beaming' by Lupe Fiasco, beginning with verse 2. He took out his custom, Los Angeles Laker Verizon Wireless, Google operated Droid out of the pouch, and saw he'd received a text message. From who? Tracy Lavine, the girl that Ryan was starting to date exclusively (something he never had done before.) It had been a little disastrous at first, Black remembered. A drunken lady had pounced onto Ryan, telling her to take him, while Black was having what he thought was a nice dinner with her. She'd gotten pissed at Black, but Ryan had used his charm to get back with her. He liked her a lot, and wanted a change of pace. She had written 'when are you comin back to la?' to Ryan. Black had had an empty feeling about leaving Lavine, but he had to travel across the country for this new promotion. She understood that, but Ryan knew she wanted to see him, or check up if he was still loyal. Black sent her a quick message, saying 'Sunday morning. We'll see eachother then'. Ryan fault a little guilty about sending her such a short message, but right now, he had only enough space in his damn head to think about his opponents on Saturday.

He didn't know who they'd be, which is why the match was in his mind even more than other matches. He could easily look at some tape, remember matches from their pasts if he knew who they were, but that wasn't the case. One thing Ryan knew, was that Terrell Odom would be facing Ryan fucking Black, LA Star in the Main Event of Pro Wrestling Novella. They were both part of the Kingship In Arbitrary, but matches were matches. Both men would give their all; there were no friends in competitions. Sure Black would have an even harder time getting to the match, or would it? Ryan would ONLY have to face around 3-4 guys. Terrell had too walk through the curtains and down the entrance ramp! Ryan probably would be tired as fuck, knocked out after that. Black had this, easy. Him and Odom had had a rocky past, but Terrell had asked him to join KIA, on the Xtreme Wrestling Federation, along with Kyle Deathlocke and Immanuel Jackson, E-Man. They'd get to know eachother more as friends eventually, or would this blow up in their faces. After the Gauntlet match, Ryan would step into the ring with him, and then they'd see if this was just a competitive rivarly, or personal hatred. As Ryan received another text message, this time a sad smiley (=() and 'awww'. Ryan replied with a 'yeah, sucks ass. missin' you though' and when he looked over at the counter, the englishmen had been replaced by a young woman, late teens to early twenties. She was semi attractive, but Ryan wouldn't hit her with a 10 foot pole, or even his car.

Black ignored her and was about to be divulged by his thoughts once more, when something caught his eye; the middle aged englishmen had set up shop right across the room from where Ryan now sat. That wasn't what bothered Ryan. What really got his going, was that the guy had a camera in hand and was snapping pictures of him. What for, Ryan could only imagine, until the man saw Ryan looking, stood up and Black saw the nastiest thing he had ever seen, other than DJ Hipp's wife's vagina (if that is what it is called.) The guy had a boner, erection, whatever, the size of the biggest brain in the entire New York Metropolitan area, which wasn't that big at all, but Ryan could see it because he was wearing spandex. Why? Who the fucking knew why, But it still made Black sick. He had already made to stand up, take the camera and tear it in front of the guys' face, but Ryan just forgot about that as the image of the man was now engraved into his head, into his memory, for the rest of his fucking life, which was far from over. He could remember it a year from now, 10 years from now, when he saw a hot girl, when he was having sex. It was painful as hell! The LA Star heard his name being called out from the counter and swiftly took his grande frapuchino from the counter where the lady bade him a thank you and happy day. Ryan looked at her and made a nasty face, remembering the thought that must never be thought up again, flashing before his eyes! Black quickly pulled his baseball cap down in front of his eyes, barely able to see where he was heading. He swiftly walked out of the Star Bucks coffee shop, and down the street, wanting to never return there ever again. It was just plain out fucking nasty. Black crashed into a man who was walking the opposite direction from him, spilling his cold coffee all over the man. The man, much shorter than Black didn't seem to want to pick a fight and just said 'it's alright sir. accident'. The LA Star didn't care, just continuing to walk. He ignored his phone going off, trying to set his mind on Terrell Odom and his opponents in the Gauntlet, but just made everything worse. He imagined them all with small erections. It was weird.


//>>||It's time for the Blog, so sit back, and suck a hard one like you're use to||<<\\


What up my faithful fans, dick sucking, man-cunt rubbin' haters and all those other people who are reading this and waiting for me to debut in non-nationally televised competition. Ryan Black has signed Pro Wrestling Novella and Xtreme Wrestling Federation AND the LA Star has also given up hope of CGS ever being a true fucking company. I just dipped the fuck out of there before it ruined my career fighting idiotic wrestlers who couldn't find the ring if I slammed their asses through it. Everybody on there was pretty pathetic, ranging from Wade Wilson and Seth Omega, to Dave Levy and Hector Zavaglia. A pathetic roster, and everybody left all at once it seems. Only worthwhile man still there is E-Man. I hear he might leave though, and the roster will be no more than a 3rd rate Company or a 5th rate Wrestling school's. Enough of the senseless or pathetic, or am I forgetting something? Ahh yeah, Imma talk about my shitty ass opponents. Who are they? Only person who knows is that cunt of a whore, Bartholomew or whatever his name is. Guy's got money and thinks he's big shit. But no. He's just a small chihuaha shit. He doesn't deserve to be higher up than me. Hell I own this fucking place. That's right, heard it here first folks, Ryan Black is declaring himself owner of PWN. Nah, too much shit to do, too many suits to where, too many meetings with prissied up, pompous assholes with not much going for them, like Bartholomew.

But as for these opponents that I don't know, it doesn't really matter does it? I mean, I can take on pretty much anybody; hold my own against the Hulk Hogans and Macho Men Randy Savages of the past, present, future. Who could possibly be in this Gauntlet match? Let me run down that list. Kyle Evers? I already beat him, incase you all forgot. He tried to take me out, but couldn't like many others. Evers did manage to beat me the next week though, but like many of you guessed, it was Steve Storme all day, every day in that match, not Kyle fucking Evers. Kevin Kompiler? You all can't see me, but I just threw my head back and laughed, laughed out loud, loled, whatever you want to call it. I've beaten that miserable excuse for a wrist slitting idiot three times already. He's never beaten me, so there's no problems. I've beaten him in contenders matches, in a match for the Trans-Continental Championship on DXX and in a match for the DXX Millennium Championship, all of them were his at the time. WERE HIS. Ryan Black was given the chance to take them, he took the shots and the damn titles. Will this be Kevin Kompiler meets LA Star, Part IV? Maybe, but if it does happen, it will be Ryan Black beats Kevin Kompiler, Part IV.

Who else is there that could enter this match? As I read down the list of Novella's signed roster, check out those not scheduled for competition this week, non catch my eye anymore. There aren't many more that stand out from the rest. One Horatio Gates? What does that chump have, compared to Ryan Black? More nail polish and eyeliner? Certainly. A more dominant career behind him, present for him and waiting for him in the not-too far off future? Fuck No. Nobody has that more than me. Gates probably got bullied in school, cried over it (in the ladies bathroom,) and ran away to try and learn karate to defend himself. He failed miserably and now we're all going to be stuck watching his ass fail at getting into the ring. Thank god this won't be nationally televised. Anyway, Ultimo Sushi can't do shit either. Another punk ass bitch who's trying to be a bump in the road for me, but won't do more than lose my patience and have me go off on him. Never heard of him other than on this damn list. Unless you can't the countless times I've driven by Sushi places. Not the same type of sushi though. That one is raw. This one isn't. No raw skill at all. Just some in-ring crap he learned from watching John Cena in the WWE. Enough of these talentless 'wrestlers', I know one person I WILL be facing tonight, because the winner of this Gauntlet match moves on too face him, and yes, I am moving on to face him.

Terrell Odom. Yes, the King in Arbritrary will be the man in the Main Event, opposite me in our match. I say our match because it's a damn true fact that I'm moving on too face him and it's damn true fact, that I will be moving on in the Super 8 Tournament. Let it also be known that it's a fact, that Ryan Black will be the first Novella Heavyweight Champion after beating everybody else in this tournament. Everybody else who's left after this week, which are all lesser competition than one LA Star. As for Odom, I'm not going to underestimate him, but I'd be lieing like George Bush from 2000-2008, if I didn't say I'm confident in myself and my abilities, to know that I'll be walking out the winner. Sure it's a little generic to say that, but I'm superior to him in the talent, ability, and age department. Sure he's got the experience over me, but experience isn't everything. It's hardly anything now a days. Look at how Sheamus beat John Cena. Unexpected as fuck. Cena had been champ many a times before that, but the new guy Sheamus swiped it from him. That can be taken as a metaphor to our much. I'm the more handsome version of Sheamus, while Terrell Odom is the black form of Cena.

See, me and Terrell have gotten along decently since he took me under his wing and signed up together on XWF, but that doesn't mean the student can't beat the master. There are times where the Master is just unbeatable, like if Kobe Bryant had a student, the Student couldn't possibly take him out. Sometimes the student is FAR better than the master. Just as Drew Brees was better than the Quarterback before him in New Orleans, playing for the Saints. Me and Terrell Odom, we're in the middle. Both of us can beat eachother. Ninety Nine times out of One Hundred, Ryan Black gets the one, two three, or the tap out. That one time that Odom wins, is when I've gotten both my arms broken, completely where you need a microscope to see the biggest piece of bone. That's when Terrell, or anybody, beats me. Other than that, Ryan Black, 1, 2, 3. Bank on it. Nathan Harter, Kyle Evers, Kevin Kompiler, Jason Krow, Jack Skye, Terrell Odom, whoever, whatever. I'm down to take on any of you, or all of you, one on one, two on one, three on one, all of you against me. Doesn't matter. I've got confidence, cockiness, maybe. Hell, who am I fucking kidding? I'm cocky, literally and figuratively.


//>>||Thoughts are worth a thousand words, or was that pictures? Mine are worth twice as much as anything||<<\\

The small arena is packed full of people, waiting in anticipation for the Pro Wrestling Novella's first ever show. It was small chatter, the happenings in other local promotions, what the more impressive companies were doing wrong, the newest razors being used. It was the typical 'wrestling know it all' talk. Nothing important, or that Ryan really cared. Didn't matter though, because over the speaker set that had been placed around the small place, Drop the World by Lil Wayne and featuring Eminem began to blare over them. The bass made the speakers pump, and the idiot crowd couldn't recognize which 'lil' rapper it was, or what color the Eminem was. They just looked at the ramp that had been set up from the 2nd rate locker rooms Ryan Black was not accustomed too, all the way down to the ring, which looked like it might keel over after a well delivered suplex.

Well, this doesn't seem as loud as the shit going on in CGS or DXX, but it'll due. Gotta keep this shit going, and being here can teach me what I haven't learned. Small promotions teach you athletic moves, unlike the huge promotions. But it doesn't matter, I'm Ryan Black. People from LA live under pressure everyday. Rich folks wanting the newest shit out, wanting to keep the money coming in. Middle classed people trying to put all their kids through a good college, or at least the University of Southern California. Those is small parts of the city just hoping their kids don't get caught up in the newest gang to pop up, wanting them to stay away from the latest designer drug. Pressure is what I grew up with, pressure is what I know. There's pressure for me too do good here, and I will. After I beat Terrell Odom, these smart mouth idiots in the crowd will know who the fuck I am, who the fuck their wathcing and what the fuck I can do! All of them complain of the generic bullshit passing through the Indys and too the pro's, but they don't notice the generic shit they say. 'Can you do this?' the most generic question ever. I've been asked this many a times, and each time, I've answered with a curt fucking 'yes'. Anybody can do this, just gotta put some heart and time into it. You gotta want to do it. 'What do you think about your opponent and match' another generic fucking question. What the fuck were these dumbasses trying to do, start a magazine or some shit. If they thought me to be generic, then why the fuck would they ask that. They'd know I'd end up saying I could get the victory.

They pride themselves in using huge ass words, only able to do so because they look them up through a thesaurus, only thing they are good for. It won't matter how long the word you use is, all that matters is what you're doing. Back up your talk instead of being a dumb shit bitch who lets others do the fighting. Stand up for yourself. That's what I'm doing. Tired of these 'pure wrestling' bitches talking shit too me. So I'm standing the fuck up, taking this by the horns and slamming it onto the ring. If any of these fans want in, they can meet me backstage, in the ring or outside. I'll go Chris Jericho on there fucking asses, take them out with a punch to the face. Child, Man, Woman. You want something to do with me? Then they better be careful with what they wish for. I'll give it too them, no questions asked. These 'pure wrestling' fanatics are probably the only fans I've ever had a problem with. Acting like they got balls and know everything. Why aren't they facing this guys then? Leaves me too doubt their abilities. But it won't matter, I'm Ryan Black. The LA Star. In a few moments, I'll be getting it on. In a few minutes, they might as well be handing me the Heavyweight Championship belt! I'm from LA, I don't give a fuck if you put me down. That's why I'm here, destroy haters, leave them with nothing to say. Lebron James, Kobe Bryant, MJ, all guys who were hated on. Look at em. The top three players in NBA History. Black, Storme and Tristagi. Hated on, and some of the best wrestling will ever see is from our matches. Don't hate bitches. Just appreciate!