This was originally a thread to call out a specific guy who was looking for fights in a weird way. He left. So now it's a general open challenge thread.
I don't take this shit super seriously so if you want to try it out let's give it a go.
It is Ranked though, even though it clearly is not Ranked, and I have a perfect record. Zero Ranked Losses. I'm so fucking good.
From the Myriad Mountains of Moldova the Masses Celebrate their Courageous Champion. Tis that Fabled Folly of Fortitude. The True Testicular Torment of Tunisia. The Unabashed Undefeated Unfathomable Ubermensch of Uganda.
Here steps the Masked and Mustachioed Muscle Man of Moldova! The Pinnacle of Perfection. The Definition of Devastation. The Embodiment of Entitlement. The Personification of Pretty Good. The Asymptote of Amazing. The Apex of Awesome. The Veranda of Victory.
Marbled Musculature Makes its way to the ring, Moving with a Measurable and Miraculous Momentum. Momentarily to Massage the ear holes of the Tantalized and soon to be Traumatized audience with his Melodious Mouth Movements. His voice I mean. I mean his voice.
"Kawaler Knight!" he calls into the night, to the knight.
"Bub! Wherefore art thou bub? Deny thy agent and forsake thy share of the pot!"
Seizing the opportunity, and to distract from how little sense his ramblings make, the Masked and Mustachioed Muscle Man of Mount Magura, Moldova hits a muscley pose. Abs hard as hell. Chest also very hard. Biceps, those are hard too. Basically he's hard as hell all over.
"Today, foe, your condescending pride hath thee most fucked. Verily thou art well and truly fuckethed."
He pivots around to show the crowd his back muscles. They are also hard. He's quite strong. Really. You would be impressed by how strong he is. I guarantee it.
"My bureaucracy is matched only by my virtue and also my very full and healthy head of hair. It's all under this mask. It's very luxuriant I assure you. Come fiend. Test Thy Might against my Miraculous Musculature and Mighty Mustache. Look upon my Works and Weep. And then get in the ring so I can beat you up. That's how it works. Come on let's go. I've run out of semi-clever things to say!"
He was ready for the fight to begin. He had a hot brunch date the next day. Omellettes and mimosas until he puked. Couldn't wait.
Danger, Danger Fontaine paced back and forth in the ring, dramatically pivoting on his heel every time he turned around and swishing his red cape. Kind of like Batman only not at all like Batman. Each time he imagined how his golden locks would be dramatically flipping to and fro if he wasn't wearing a mask, and if his hair was blonde instead of brown, and if he wasn't also very bald.
Moderately Melodramatically he pointed down the ramp and Said Some more Stupid Shit.
"Visionate my Virtuous Victory, Vagrant Knight. To Versus anon, thou must put up a fight!"
As a bit of a bonus to his countless fans that last bit rhymed. He put a lot of effort into the dumb shit that came out of his mouth. True fans would appreciate it, but to truly understand his Carelessly Convoluted but Certainly Captivating Comedy would Require a like Really Really just super high IQ. Like double Big Brain status.
He held the overly theatrical pointing pose a bit longer than necessary, giving the millions AND MILLIONS of fans plenty of time to take pictures of his visage. Who could blame them. Who wouldn't want to capture a moment of such a life forever. Frame it and put it on your mantle. Tear all those shit ass drawings your Dumb shit Definitely Disappointing, yes I mean you Dylan, kids did off your refrigerator and replace them with something as glorious as Danger, Danger Fontaine.
"We will battle on a float. We will battle in a boat. We will battle in this ring. We will battle on a swing. We will battle in your garage. We will battle in the quaint Derry 4 bedroom 4 bath summer home of Nigel Farage. I will win and you will lose. Socks are always sold in twos."
That last part was for the ladies. As was the truly back breaking and Herculean butt flex he maintained throughout it. Always got to give back to the fans. That whole shit rhymed too, Danger never disappointed the fans. Even just now fans rhymes with fans.
"Where is this alleged valiant rogue That all the stories hath foretold? Dareth he not to faceth me in mine ring? Dareth him to faceth the king? That is me. I'm the King I was referencing just now. No, not you, thou art a cow. Perchance awareness of my WikiFan article did reacheth his doors? Perchance he decideth he doth wanteth no more? Further references to some shit talking past. Cometh he to face his judgement at last?"
Danger, Danger Fontaine then did the patented thing that Dwayne Johnson used to do when he was The Rock in like 2001 or something. The like "Come Get Some" hand gesture. He didn't look as cool. And he wasn't as charismatic. And he wasn't as handsome. And he didn't have a future in Hollywood. And he didn't have a kind of plain but very loving and supportive wife he would soon cheat on and end up marrying some bimbo years later who would then probably take him for all his money and start spreading rumors about what a dick he actually was when the cameras were off. But it still kind of sort of looked cool if you squinted really hard.
“Hark!” Cries a voice from the audience. “His foe cometh! THE MOLE-MAN cometh!” A claw rises from the cold unfeeling Earth, -this- close to skewering Danger Fontaine’s prancing foot. The crowd collectively gasps. “THE MOLE-MAN!” Cry some. “MOLE-MAN!” Cry others. Proper noun or not, verily, one may confirm by mere careless observation this to be true, Mr. -MAN cometh. How did he know where to emerge? How do MOLE-MEN navigate the surface from beneath it? So many questions that will soon, surely, have answers - further, what do MOLE-MEN look like? Who invited one here? Do they ever suffocate down in the dirt? He hasn’t moved since breaching the surface with the one claw. Hopefully MOLE-MAN is okay.
Name: (THE) MOLE-MAN Gender: -MAN Age: 33 YEARS (36 in MOLE-MAN YEARS) Hometown: THE BENEATH Appearance: BROWN FUR. LONG CLAWS. HUNCHED and FREAKISH. Height: TOWERING (at full stretch; normally AVERAGE) Weight: UNTHROWABLE Sexuality: DEMISEXUAL (SWITCH) Habits: DIGGING Likes: DIGGING, JEWELRY, CLOWNS Dislikes: UNDIGGABLE TERRAIN, HAPHAZARD SPOKEN POETRY, ROSHAMBO, SUFFOCATING Reason for becoming a Trainer: GYM BADGES. THEY'RE SO GODDAMN SHINY. WHAT THREAD IS THIS?
THE MOLE-MAN digs because MOLE-MAN knows no other life. Abandoned by his parents at a young age, MOLE-MAN has spent his existence in the relentless pursuit of identity. The MOLE-MAN people don't have public schooling, so his direction in life has fallen entirely to his own misguided judgment. For a time, he was a thief, a burglar, burrowing into the basements of innocent people and making off with things he didn't know the names of. It is still that time. MOLE-MAN still does that. In his travels, THE MOLE-MAN has met many people; made many friends, and many more enemies; stumbled into countless situations he did not understand, and came out almost always worse for his trouble. Once, he was challenged to a game of rock-paper-scissors for his freedom after the police caught him trying to steal a wine cask, and he lost because he could only do paper or scissors. He dug out of prison, but the experience changed him. He is still trying to reckon with the consequences - that is, the concept of consequences. In Japan, THE MOLE-MAN is known as ホームインベーダーさん.
Weekend was too busy for me to alter this much but this is my dude.
Name: Danger, Danger Fontaine Epithet: Masked and Mustachioed Macho...Guy Age: 32 Height: 6'4" of towering manliness Weight: 246 pounds of raw hard muscle slathered in baby oil Race: Human Dominant Hand: Right
Weapons- All of Danger's weapons are fashioned from cheap steel and are designed to break easily. They are carted down to the ring in a shopping car.
-A Wooden Folding Table designed for little more than being broken in dramatic fashion.
-A Chinese folding metal chair initially designed for sitting but quite useful for bashing about the head.
-A wooden kendo stick
-A Stop Sign seemingly picked up off the street
-A single live and very confused Lobster
-A Black Duct-Taped Up Baseball Bat
Equipment-
The Man Known As Danger, Danger Fontaine, wears upon his person:
Urban Colored Camo Shorts
Black and White Gold's Gym Muscle Shirt
Black and White Wrestling Mask (trimmed back to allow his mustache freedom from the confines of his mask)
Wrestling Gloves
Wrestling Boots
Red Entrance Cape
Appearance-
Danger, Danger Fontaine is a thickly muscled well tanned man and is never seen without an indulgent quantity of baby oil ensuring each and ever muscle fiber glistens under the stadium lights as does his perfectly manicured mustache. His build is best described as mercilessly powerful and massively sexual.
Physical Abilities/Powers-
Physical Ability- Danger, Danger Fontaine has inarguably perfected his craft. He is truly the picture of perfection. He is the image of intensity. The epitome of excellence. The physical manifestation of manliness. And also a generous lover, if you know what I mean. His grip is unbreakable, his strikes impeccable, his aerial game im...un...it's also pretty good.
Powers- Imagined Invulnerability - Danger, Danger Fontaine can ignore injuries that would incapacitate neigh any other man. Due to a combination of repeated traumatic concussions, pain killer use and abuse, and his massively inflated ego he can suffer great harm and continue on despite it. He is either numb to the pain due to a combination of nerve damage and pain killer use or simply able to power through it due to his own overpowering sense of self confidence. In short, while he is not actually in any way shape or form invulnerable to injury or damage he is fully capable of ignoring such damage until it becomes fundamentally physically incapacitating.
Supreme Arrogance - Danger, Danger Fontaine's massively inflated ego and additive brain damage due to regular traumatic head injury allows him to face adversaries that are clearly exponentially more powerful than he and believe he still has a very real chance of victory.
Delusion - Arguably all of Danger, Danger Fontaine's power is a result of this aspect of his mind. Despite what absurd circumstance he may find himself in and what inconceivable threat he may face, he will stalwartly believe that he is the Fan Favorite and that this is his shot at the big time. He can hear the roaring crowd. He can hear the commentators expounding over his miraculous musculature and marvelous mustache.
Unreasoning Rage - Danger, Danger Fontaine's patina of professional wrestling professionalism fades into oblivion if his mask is removed or his mustache is mussed up. Though he generally plays up for the adoring arena carefully watching his each and every match, when an opponent dares to remove his mask he loses his restraint entirely. As a great man once said, he loses his smile. Much of the posing and smiling fades away and he is left a raving animal, throwing out as many big moves as he can as quickly as he can, often to his eventual detriment.
Personality- Danger...Danger Fontaine. A self obsessed obnoxiously narcissistic professional wrestler, his greatest strength is also his greatest weakness. He is loud, because it is important that the millions and millions of fans, all slavering at the bit for just a little more Danger, hear each and every syllable of each and every word. He is self aggrandizing because who knows Danger better than Danger himself? He is light hearted and often cracks terrible terrible jokes, because he is THE MAN. He is the top, the pinnacle, the apex, the peak, the asymptote, the azimuth, the hyperbole, he is the the man and the only way to be THE MAN is to beat THE MAN and the only man who can beat THE MAN is THE MAN, which is him, thus he is unbeatable. Ask anyone, they'll tell you. In the unlikely event he is one day beaten he is magnanimous in defeat because he knows, HE KNOWS, that belt is meant for one man and one man alone. THE MAN, which is him, Danger, Danger Fontaine, aka THE MAN. The Macho...Guy.
Background- Danger, Danger Fontaine dreamed through all of his childhood of becoming a professional wrestler and eventually managed to make his dream come true. Growing up in South Dakota he knew from a young age that he was destined for greatness and the greatest greatness he could envision was becoming a massive slab of tanned and oiled muscle body slamming other, lesser, tanned and oiled massive muscle slabs for the entertainment and adoration of the million and millions watching at home. Happily fueled on by the antics of his wrestling idols, action movies, and neigh every book and training program advertised in the back of comic books, he grew muscleyier and muscleyier as his dream became an inevitable future.
He worked his way up through the indies gaining a reputation as an enormous ass, but an ass who put asses in seats. Which is the best kind of ass. Taking inspiration from his idols from America and the world abroad he fashioned for himself a number of easily recognized moves and a very recognizable physique. Muscles, Muscles, Mask and Mustache. In time he made his way to the premier federation of the United States and found great success. As well as he did he faced many injuries and eventually ended up as too big of a liability to the company to remain. This was likely a wise move as his massive ego led to him suffering many injuries that would have sidelined him if he weren't just such an egomaniac. Finally one day his undeniable superiority, ceaseless impossibly hyperbolic bragging, and need to pay some bills brought him to Undisputed Pro Wrestling.
Oops, I was picturing a colosseum, looks like THE MOLE-MAN has actually burrowed into a wrestling ring in the present day One does lose track of a lot of things down there in the dirt
I'm preferring the image of THE MOLE-MAN accidentally burrowing through the building's foundations into a wrestling ring and being very lost as a coach steps up and basically adopts him for the fight
I'll do a goofy intro to my guy doing an open challenge. Mole Man pops up. Danger accepts the challenge but being a man of honor and dignity and wanting to get His Money A Manager for Mole Man Must First Materialize.
Giuseppe and Annaliesse are really the stars of the show. I hope they work out their differences. Tandi, Randi, and Ghandi are good kids. They deserve a good family.
I'll post more today or tomorrow. I really didn't expect such a rapid back and forth. I usually post once or twice a week. It's been fun as hell though; and I love that you caught that stupid shit I was doing with the names for the announcers. I read that thing you did with "Astonishing" and had a dumb idea and wrote it down in my phone before I went to sleep...and then I got FOMO. Didn't want to wake up in the morning not remembering my dumb ass idea right.
Next up I see them pulling a Spanish Announcer table out of the crowd. Then some Mole Men show up to take over announcing duties while Alejandro and Guillemot bitterly bicker about where their Make Up Dinner will be. Something about Danger Danger being confused and/or infuriated. Maybe an interference. Maybe another song. Maybe a guest spot. Maybe a little Fourth Wall Fuckery.
Shhhh I'm using this to make notes for my next post so I don't forget DBZ combo move or whatever they call it when two characters dance around and morph into one. Tequila + Fully SemiAutomatic 30 Clip Mag A Second Ghost Gun with a Bump Stock = Hugh Capacity Long Range alcohol dispenser
I have no idea about any actual wrestling people and my internet searches have not proven to me that General Shenanigans is even a real person so I'm going to Take Liberties.
