NLWF Presents:
The Federation that promises to blow your mind as we lead the golden age of Pro Wrestling into the future! The No Limit Wrestling Federation is like no other, where you will be given limitless opportunities to excel fast as you compete in the Land of No Limits, fighting in the best Blood Sport on Earth!

NLWF accepts anyone brave enough to take the Walk of Fame, the first steps on the path to Immortality, but warns: Enter at Your Own Risk!

No restrictions, no boundaries, no limits, just the sport the way it should be!

Welcome and allow me to introduce you to four letters that will change your life, NLWF!

“IMMORTAL IS THE NLWF STANDARD OF QUALITY”

The Other Guys

Go down

The Other Guys

Post by Hostyle Jones on January 5th 2013, 1:37 am





.:PROLOGUE:.


"This is what we call, bringing in the new year No Limit Wrestling Federation. A brand new year, and Hostyle Jones has gotten him a brand new contract to a new business."

"Hostyle Jones last was seen in the ranks of the Insurgency Wrestling Federation, where he claimed the High Impact Championship, months prior, by defeating Robbie Hart, until he was sidelined with an injury, losing the High Impact Championship to Parker Wayde."

"During this injury, Hostyle Jones back was also up against the ropes from a personal stand-point. His engagement to his former sweet-heart, Chalida had been tarnished, and his infant son, Damien was nowhere to be found."

"Let us take a look back, at how this came to happen..."

...

Hostyle Jones - Chalida, there is no us anymore. He is us, and you have fucking lost it.

I looked at her straight faced with a tear in my eye.

Hostyle Jones - You need help…

She stormed out of the room. After she left I turned around a looked at Damien.

Hostyle Jones - You’re mommy is losing her mind, little man. Everything will be alright.


I was already planning to take my son with me, but I didn’t want to leave Chalida more unstable then she already was acting, so I had to try and do this in the most harmless way that I possibly could. I started to walk out of the room right around the same time Chalida jolted through the doorway with a butcher knife in her hands.


Chalida - I’ll kill him!!



Hostyle Jones - Whoa?!?! What?!?!

Did I really just hear her say that. I looked at her humiliated. She really looked horrible and stressed. Sweat was now raising from her pores. Her eyes red and puffy from rubbing the tears away pervious to grabbing the knife.

This had just gotten way to serious. I really didn’t want to do this, and I was probably going to regret it later, but it had to be done…



(SMACK)



I backhanded Chalida to the ground as she dropped the knife and it slid across the floor. I turned myself around and picked up my son. Then I began to take a fast paced walk out into the living room and out the door. I could hear Chalida screaming as I opened the passenger seat and shut the door to the Escalade.

I pressed the unlock key to the black Navigator I had left for Chalida, seeing as I still had my key. I reached in the back pulling the baby seat out. I was trying to take as little time as possible to strap Damien in, knowing Chalida’s crazy ass could come running out the door any moment with a knife in her hand.

I began to fasten the car seat in the back of the SUV, all while looking over my shoulder. I had just gotten the last strap in, and loaded my son in the car seat when she came storming out of the house.


Chalida - You’re not going to do this, Christian!



Hostyle Jones - You’re out of your FUCKING mind!

...


Looking back in my rearview, I noticed Chalida still in pursuit. By now baby Damien was hysterical. I picked up speed a bit cutting through traffic as Chalida gave chance shortly behind me.

As we came to a shallow spot in traffic, Chalida switched lanes and sped up, pulling up next to me. She had her window down, and was yelling in rage. I couldn’t really make out what she was saying, but from her motions- it looked as if she was saying if I didn’t pull over she was going to run me into the median?

This was out of control. I slowed down for a moment thinking of what I should do. She kept the same pace. I looked over as she started to shift into me. I picked up my speed and dodged her swipe right at the last possible second. She got back into the next lane and started to speed up. She looked at me one more and began screaming at the top of her lungs…

Then I looked forward…


Hostyle Jones - Nooooooooo, Chalida!!

I watched horrified as Chalida collided with the back of another vehicle on 1 95. She then began to spin the Navigator out, causing it to do a 360, hit the median, and roll down into the grassy dip- separating both sides of the multiple lane highway.

My first initial reaction was to stop. What if she was dead? Then I thought for a moment as I slowed the Escalade down, trying to get over to shoulder. What if she’s not dead? If I stopped and she was still alive it was more of a problem. After the cops would come she would say I took my son and I slapped her. That would be it for me. I would be arrested and never be able to keep Damien.

I then started to speed up merging myself away from the shoulder of 195. All I could really do in this situation and think positive. So, I kept it moving as I turned the radio on. I began to recline my seat a tad bit. Baby Damien’s whimpers began to die down as he peacefully fell to sleep.


...

"With his son being watched by a waitress he hardly knew, and no information on weither or not Chalida had expired or not, Hostyle continued to do what he did best..."

"Come to every match ready to take the fucking roof off the arena, Highlight by Highlight."


"It wasn't until, IWF's From The Ashes 2, that his personal life was destroyed further. The arena was jampacked, and the fans of the IWF were highly excited for Hostyle Jones vs. Chuck Matthews. Hostyle had made it a point to challange Chuck Matthews at From The Ashes to end his streak. Fate and a well played plot would prove otherwise..."

...

Rick - What the fuck?

Hostyle moves to the ropes, leaning over them, staring at a woman in the front row. The woman winks at him, and waves.

Matt - Wait a minute...that's Chalida Jones!

Rick - Who?

Matt - It's Hostyle's wife! Ex-wife...girlfriend...SOMETHING. She was supposed to have died in a car accident weeks ago!

Rick - No wonder Hostyle looks so freaked out!


Hostyle shakes his head, staring at Chalida. Chalida slowly climbs over the barricade. She smiles, and points into the ring. Hostyle turns around, and is caught with a vicious spear.

Rick - HOLLYWOOD IMPACT!

Chuck pins Hostyle.

-1-

-2-

-3-

[Ding! Ding! Ding!]

Heather Thompson - Here is your winner...CHUCK MATTHEWS!!!

Chuck smirks, and stands. Hostyle slowly gets to a seated position, staring at Chuck, then looking back at Chalida. Chalida climbs into the ring and jumps on Chuck, laughing, and pointing at Hostyle.

Matt - GOD FUCKING DAMN IT NOT AGAIN.

Hostyle looks from Chalida to Chuck and back again. He grits his teeth and charges, tackling Chuck. Chalida barely manages to get out of the way as Hostyle drives him into the corner, and begins raining down punches. Hostyle drags Chuck to the center of the ring, and grabs his arms, locking in the Straight Jacket. Chuck struggles in the hold, trying desperately to escape. Slowly, he begins to fade. Hostyle tightens the hold, bringing Chuck down. Finally, Hostyle releases Chuck, throwing his limp body to the mat. He turns on Chalida, who begins laughing.

Rick - Clearly not the reaction Hostyle was expecting.

Matt - I can't say I blame him. Her great protector was just taken out of action completely...what's she laughing about?

Chalida grabs a mic from a ringside worker.

Chalida Morris
Oh, Hostyle...poor Hostyle...


Hostyle yells at her, pointing at Chuck, lying motionless in the ring.

Chalida Morris
Yes, I can see that. You beat down Chuck Matthews. Congratulations. Do you realize what you've just done though, baby?

Hostyle grits his teeth, glaring at Chalida, who smiles wider.

Chalida Morris
You've just attacked...the new General Manager of Battle Grounds.

Rick - WHAT?!


The crowd erupts into cheers as Chalida laughs even harder. Hostyle's face drops, and he slowly turns to Chuck, who slowly stirs in the ring. Chalida kneels next to the semi-conscious Chuck. She winks at Hostyle, and locks eyes with him as she plants a long kiss on Chuck's lips. Hostyle shakes his head, backing up towards the ropes.

Matt - I think Hostyle has just realized what's going on here.

Rick - He may have just made a VERY powerful enemy...

...

"As things would unfold, Chuck Matthews and Chalida ended up finding Hostyle and Chalida's son. When they did, they took him for their own. This disturbed Hostyle all the way up to his injury, and even after."

"Shortly after Hostyle was sidelined, he was sent papers in the mail. The papers were for that of a custody battle, and for Damien's last name to be from Jones, to Chalida's last name which was Morris."

"This troubled Hostyle deeply, and with that, Hostyle resorted to a drug relapse. His dream was over for the moment, and had damn near been shattered. It was like his life had been destroyed by a tornado. The damage was done, and Hostyle Jones had began to hurt himself more, by spending his hard earned money as a wrestler on drugs and strippers. It wasn't until he had an elightenment from his lawyer, Rothstein, who had gave him a simple option. Either sober up, and get yourself back on track, or end up in jail."

"This was Rothstein referring to the accident that Hostyle Jones had gotten into during his time away from wrestling. The result of the accident was that the driver of the other vehicle had died on his way to the hospital, and due to the Zanex prescription, Hostyle was awaiting a court hearing to determine his fate."

"Nearly a half of year as passed, and Hostyle Jones has been clean for three weeks. With that, he intends to take back some of the pride he had lost, and in his mind, the only way to do so, is to climb the ranks of the wrestling world once more..."

"This time in the NLWF..."





.:Off Camera:.


'The Invitation'

First thing I had to do if I was going to get back into the ring, was get in touch with a former friend. I hadn't spoken to The Pretty Boy Assassin since being sidelined, so we definatly had a lot of catching up to do.

Obviously with that said, you knew it was going to be one hell of a night. You know strippers asses were going to get smacked so hard that a hand imprint would be embedded on their ass-cheeks. You know that the Jack Daniels was going to get downed shot by shot, like a white-trash party. You know the blunts were going to get rolled and passed around like it was four-twenty. Railing cocaine or losing my memory the next day to a night of Zanex was out of the question. After all my lack of 'give a fuck' so to speak for my own well being, and getting drugged up to numb my sorrows was the reason I haven't stepped into a wrestling ring in damn near six-months.




We found ourselves at Club Onyx in Philidephia, Pennsylvania on a rainy Friday night. I was more familiar with the area due to strip clubs being one of my favorite pass-times, and growing up in New Jersey. It was nothing to make a trip to Philly or New York from New Jersey, so I knew all the cities well. The taste of Kush was still lingering off of my lips due to the blunt ride over the bridge, and my eyes were on Jackie Chan status.
Once we got inside, we handed our coats in for a coat check. It was actually quite warm in the club itself. The fog machines produced a thin mist through the area, and the smell of liquor and sex lingered in the air. The speakers pounded like a rhytematic heartbeat as you could hear the customers cheering on the strippers up on the stage doing their set.

Even though I liked strip clubs, I was more of a lingerer. Don't get me wrong, I would sit up at the stage every once in a while and toss ones to the ladies, but more or less I was like that guy you see in the back of the bar who looks like he's there to pull out an AK47 and open fire at any given moment.

We made our way to the back corner section of seats, and sat down, looking up onto stage to size up the status of each stripper.

Robbie Hart : Time to ball the fuck out! Lap dances, motorboats, pussy in my face, the whole nine yards, homie.

I smerked as I knew that Robbie Hart could at times be as wild as me. The only differance was that Robbie would let his wild side out a little more, I was more sinister and encoved with mine.

I noticed the bartender walking up to us. It was manditory you buy a drink at a majority of the strip clubs.

Not like we weren't going to toss em' back anyway...

Bartender : What can I get you?

Robbie went to call out his drink of choice, but I put my hand up and looked over at him insisting I call the first round.

Hostyle Jones : Let me get two double shots of Jack.

The bartender nodded as she walked up, dressed nearly as sleezy as the strippers right when they first come on to do their set. Along her passing, Robbie extended his arm out and lightly backhanded her in right ass cheek. She turned and looked back to say something, but I cut her off before she could say anything.

Hostyle Jones : It's cool, if the man wants to smack your ass, let him.

I then winked at the bartender, giving her a smile. She shot me a look and shook her head in disgust, before walking away to fetch the shots.

I slumped back in my seat as Robbie reached into his pocket and began to dig around. He pulled out a stack of money and began to sort to the back of all the bills. Then he looked up with a somewhat look of sadness stretched across his face...

Robbie Hart : Fuck, man...

Robbie Hart : Jones, I'm down on my singles, bro. Tell that chick we need singles, quick.


Hostyle Jones : I'm sure she has that covered?


The bartender came back with the drinks, handing them to us ever so carefully.

Hostyle Jones : How much?

She was about to respond with the ammount, but Robbie quickly reached into his pocket, and pulled out a credit card. He cut her off before she could get a word out, extending his arm toward her with the bank card.

Robbie Hart : Fuck that, we're opening a tab. I got this man, don't even worry about it.

The bartender grabbed the card from Robbie. Robbie Hart then extended out his other arm with a C note...

Robbie Hart : And, can I get one hundred singles?

Hostyle Jones : A hundred singles, man?

Robbie Hart : Ball out!

Hostyle Jones : Crazy ass...


The bartender reached out, and took the crisp hundred dollar bill from Robbie's hand. He looked over at me with a slight smirk for a moment, and then looked back at the bartender...

Robbie Hart : Keep ten for you too, girl...

She nodded her head to thank us, and then strutted back to the bar area.

I looked over at Robbie, and slightly raised my shot into the air, giving a bottoms up call. Robbie then raised his slightly. At the same time we took the double shots of Jack Daniel's back and placed the shot glasses on the resting tables next to our seats.

Meanwhile, I fixed my eyes to the stage, and someone caught my eye. I tapped Robbie's shoulder and leaned toward him, pointing toward the stage.

Hostyle Jones : Got' dayum!!



Hostyle Jones : I want it, and I'm about to go get it!!


I began to stand up from my seat, Robbie's eyes got wide as he pulled me back down into my seat.

Robbie Hart : Hostyle, you know I'm not trying to cock block homie, but look...

Robbie was indeed right, I would have to wait. I was so wrapped up in that sexy peice of ass on the stage, that I forgot that Robbie was waiting for his singles. As I looked up the bartender was just coming back with a bank roll of singles. Robbie extended his hand out to receive the money. The bartender leaned forward and placed the stack in his hand, all while reaching out with her other hand to collect the shot glasses...

Robbie Hart : Shots of Patron Silver, and keep em' coming. Were going to head up the stage. I take it you will find us?

She nodded her head in agreement before walking off. Robbie then looked at me, and extended his arm outward in a 'you lead the way' motion. This caused me to get up from my seat. I looked up at the stage as we began to make our walk, and then the stripper and I made eye contact.

I extended me head with confidence, and shot a smirk through my hallow expression. She bit her bottom lip while looking at me for a moment, and then looked down at the crowd sitting stage side, before dropping her top to the foggy stage.

As we made our way up there, we were just fortunate enough to find two open seats, in which we quickly unvacated. As we sat, Robbie's eyes grew wide.

Robbie Hart : Wow, look at that ass! I want to smack it.

Hostyle Jones : Shit, you wouldn't know what to do with that, now that we're even closer, I'm not sure if I could handle that neither? Beleive me, you know I can handle some strippers, but that's an ass where if you can't conquer it, then you shouldn't even try.

Robbie Hart : What, ya' gettin' cold feet, Jones?

Hostyle Jones : Me?


I shot Robbie a dumbfounded look and shook my head...

Hostyle Jones : Oh no, I'm going to conquer that! I have never been scared of pussy my whole life, and I damn sure ain't going to change over night.

I focused my eyes back to the stripper on stage. Robbie might have thought that I was joking? The truth is I wasn't. I wanted to hashtag that woman like a tweet slogan, and I was going to do that.

She looked over at us and began to do a seductive walk in our direction while the first song on the set faded, and the next began to play...




Robbie Hart : Awww shit!! Here she comes.

I began to relax again as she walked up even closer before slowly sqwatting down in front of us. She looked at me, and then slowly looked at Robbie. She then dropped to a kneel and leaned forward, enough until she was at my ear, and then she whispered...

"Hey baby..."

She then leaned forward some more, until she was on all fours with her hands and knees pressed against the stage, facing us. She once more looked at Robbie, before twisting her arms in front of her, causing the force of her triceps to squeeze her rack together. The stripper smiled, and then looked back at me once more.

I smiled slightly, and then I lifted my arm from the chair a short distance, and waved her over with my pointer finger to the rythem of the music. She leaned forward, turning her head a bit to position her ear by my mouth.

Hostyle Jones : So, let me ask you something, what's it gonna' take to bring you out of here with me tonight?

the stripper stared at me for a moment and then waved me forward with her finger. When I leaned in to hear her speak, she leaned forward ever so slightly and licked the outline of my ear before whispering...

You know, I know who you are, I know who both of you are.

I looked at Robbie, who had leaned forward and heard what she said. He was currently reaching forward grabbing the shot glasses of Patron Silver, for the bartender had just brought us our Tequlia. However, I turned looking back at her, and I slightly nodded my head in an upward motion, as if to signal I was curious to hear what she was going to say next.

"You're Hostyle Jones, and that's Robbie Hart."

I looked at Robbie, as he handed me my shot of Patron. I made a cheers to the stripper, as Robbie and I both took our shot back at the same time.

Hostyle Jones : And, how do you know this?

"Because I'm a wrestling fanatic."

Hostyle Jones : Well, I'm a stripper fanatic...


I shot her a smart ass type of grin. By the smirk she gave, I could tell she was digging me, but that could have also been because she was a wrestling fan. Either way, I decided to let it go there.

Hostyle Jones : So, what's your name... your 'real' name?

"Gina"


Just as she told me her name, a viewer across the stage, voiced his opinion.

"Bitch, are you going to dance?"

Now, normally I wouldn't have lost my composure, I would have watched and studied, to see how Gina handled herself in a situation like this. However, the liquor was running through my system, and intoxication always leads to conflict of interest in the situation.

I looked across the stage leaning up from my seat.

Hostyle Jones : Ay, shut the fuck up. Can't you see that were talking.

Robbie Hart : Yeah, they're talking, douche...


Robbie leaned forward to chime in...

I could already see the door men looking the situation over from the door, and from the look on the guys face across the stage, I could tell he was really going to try and stand up for himself. With that, I had a feeling that things were going to get crazy and go downhill from there...

The man pointed at his chest with a cocky look on his face, as if to say are you talking to me, I shot him an arrogant ass look back and extended my arms up slightly to the side of me.

Hostyle Jones : What?!

Gina turned and looked across the stage at the guy, and then turned back looking at Robbie and myself as if she felt like she caused trouble for us? She went to speak but I started to talk before she could get a word out.

Hostyle Jones : No, it's alright, it's this douche bag that is out of line, not you.

The guy and a couple of his buddies began to stand up, Robbie Hart began to shake his head, while looking in my direction, and at that point, i knew what he was trying to say was... Look at these fucking idiots.

As Robbie and I stood from our chair, the door men, and the other bouncer stationed by the VIP, began to make their move. In this moment, the whole thing went to chaos. People who were not involved that were sitting by the stage, quickly jumped up in a heap of commotion, as Robbie and myself lunged over the stage past Gina at the "tough guys" on the other side.

As the bouncers approached to break up the scuffle, fists were already flying, looking like a mosh pit at the peak of a breakdown. As the bouncers got in the way, things got worse. One of the bouncers grabbed me from behind, trying to pull me back across the stage. I kicked my foot outward behind me, mule kicking him in the nose.

I looked to the side and seen Robbie, who at this point had climbed onto the stage and over, trying to avoid the bouncers. As he got to the other side, he reached forward, and began to pick up a chair from the side of the stage. I don't know what his intentions were, but I know we are both wrestlers, and I have a feeling he wasn't redecorating, so I quickly climbed across the stage to stop him before this went any further.

I grabbed at his arm before he could fling the chair, stopping his momentum and causing it to fall to the ground. As soon as that happened, we were in the beginning stages of being detained by the bouncers who had made it close enough to us to wrap us up and begin escorting us toward the door.

As they began to forcefully drag us back, locked in a bear hug, I looked back and forth searching for "Mr. Tough Man", but could find him nowhere. Him and his flock had probably fled as things got out of hand. Upon my visual search, I laid my eyes on Gina, who was on the otherside of the club, looking across at me. I extended my arm forward pointing at her.

Hostyle Jones : I'm gonna' wait for you outside, I want to talk to you.

By this time, we were at the front door, being pulled outward into the parking lot. As we were pulled through the door, the bouncers slung Robbie and myself out onto black-top and stood over us with a look of rage across their face.

Bouncer : Don't come back, I mean it!!

Robbie went to go stand to his feet, but once more, I grabbed at his shoulder, stopping him from causing more problems for us. We had already been kicked out. We didn't need the police showing up. That was the last thing I needed right now.

I looked over at Robbie, giving him a look to calm down. He understood why, and as he did, the bouncers turned around and proceeded to walk back into the club.

After the door shut, Robbie looked over at me as we started to make our way back to our feet, and let off a slight sigh of laughter...

Robbie Hart : Typical Hostyle, Hart, night on the town like always!

Hostyle Jones : Yeah man, it's good to come out of the dumps. I'm ready to get back to the old Jones. I lost my dignity somewhere along the road.

Robbie Hart : That reminds me. What are you doing for work, Jones? Are you going back to IWF?

Hostyle Jones : I don't know?


Robbie looked at me for a moment and then stared out into the lot searching for the vehicle. I then reanswered his question, as it looked like he was waiting for me to do exactly that.

Hostyle Jones : I was hoping that you could help me with that?

Robbie Hart : Uhh, duh- my family name is legend in the NLWF! Of course I can pull some strings and make it happen if you're serious.

Hostyle Jones : I'm dead serious...


Robbie patted his pockets down for a moment and then reached inside them for a moment.

Robbie Hart : Fuck man, they tossed us out without our coats and without my bank card. Ain't that some shit?

Hostyle Jones : Damn...

Hostyle Jones : Well listen, it's cool. I was planning on staying here and waiting for Gina. I'm still trying to get in her pants, so if you want, you could hit the hotel now. Then text me a message, so I know where to go. After the club closes I'll have her get our shit, and then I'll take a cab back to the hotel later, deal?


Robbie Hart : You crazy mother fucker? What if she doesn't come out here and talk to you? Why are you on your freaky stalker shit?

Hostyle Jones : Bro, I'm no on my freaky stalker shit? I'm on my trying to get some pussy before I go to sleep shit!


Robbie nodded his head with a smirk, understandingly...

Robbie Hart : Well, then do you homie. Take some candid pictures of that phat ass butt if you get the chance? I'll see you at the hotel later. Don't forget to ask for my bank card though.

I nodded at Robbie, I wasn't going to forget something like that. As I did that he extended out his hand as we clasp hands before parting ways.

As he turned to walk to his vehicle, I backed up to the outside wall of the club and leaned against it, reaching into my pocket for a Newport. Tonight was going to be a long night, and now that I knew I would be wrestling professionally once more, it was going to be a long journey back to the top.

I stared blankly at the parking lot as I placed the cigerette between my lips and extended the lighter to it. All it took was one flick and a cup of the hand to light the end. I inhaled my first drag of the cigerette, and then blew the smoke out, thinking more about NLWF now. As I said, it was going to be a long journey back to the top, but I know what I'm capable of, and I was ready to make that journey- by any means.








.:SHOOT:.
"The Other Guys"


Ultimate Glory, Huh?

"Hostyle Jones looks down at the concrete floor, before looking back up into the camera."

I don't want Ultimate Glory, I just want what is coming to me...

The slogan for the No Limit Wrestling Federation is The world is yours! What if the world is not enough?

Make no mistake about it, I might be the fresh face here in the NLWF as the ink from my signature still drys on the contract, but this isn't my first run-down. I have went from federation to federation, unleashing anarchy. There is nothing better then setting a new tempo in a new federation, that is why at Ultimate Glory, I am ready to begin my path.

As for whats on the sadistic agenda of Hostyle Jones?

What is on the agenda is making sure that Robbie Hart has a sick fuck in his corner like Hostyle Jones at Ultimate Glory. I'm going to be there, and I'm going to size up the competition one by one as I see them backstage.

Why would I be sizing them up?

I love pain, I love competition, but most of all, I love to go to fucking war. If it is war that Anthony King wants with Robbie Hart, then I think I'll have to reroute his thinking, because the whole fact is...

This pussy does not want war!!

Yeah, I called him a pussy, because he is frail. As a matter of fact, Anthony King and London Carter are both frail. They look like a bunch of little Drake clones. All about the 'bubble gum gangster' era. When people like me, or people like Robbie walk down the ramp- they know that we're coming to fuck shit up. As for these other guys?

Hostyle Jones looks down to the concrete locker room floor, low eyed, with a burnt out expression. All the while giving off a slight chuckle before he looks back up into the camera.

Yeah... these other guys, I feel like I'm about to watch Americas Best Dance Crew. I don't know, maybe it's me? The reality is, I can't take someone like them serious. I'm too grown to take 'kids' seriously.

There is a dick between my legs, and I have scars on my flesh. These guys come out in their 'skinny jeans', and their 'snapbacks and tattoos'? I got tattoo's too, so what are you really proving? Toughness comes from the heart, and these 'kids' have none. They care about the wrong things.

Quite frankly, I feel bad for them, because to be honest, this right here, it's in me. It's in my blood to wrestle. You 'other guys' need to stick to dancing or singing, your whole swag, is just off?

It just fucking screams fourteen year old girl heart throb!!

But, uhh... yeah, enough about these other guys.

I'm coming to Ultimate Glory to set the tone for a whole new year in this business. The sadistic era of Hostyle Jones has just arrived to the biggest wrestling promotion there is, and I'm going to burn the fucking stadium down highlight by highlight. No matter who I may have to face in here, it's not 'them' I should be worried about.

I should be what troubles 'their' worried mind, because you see- I am no typical guy. I don't look for the spotlight, it finds me. I'm sicker then your average, more innovative then your average, and a hell of a lot more feared then your average.

The IWF World Champion, Alexander Remington once said, and I quote "People look for monsters under their bed, but when monsters go to sleep, they look under their beds for Hostyle!" As stupid as it sounds, the funny thing is, it's probably true. Like I said, I'm sick and innovative.

It's a deadly combination...

All I can say is that my future looks good here in the NLWF!

I'm not worried about how I will fit in, or the impression I will make, because I am an individual! Individuals always stand out. Individuals always climb the ladder in this business. Individuals always have success. With that said, I'm going to show the rest of the locker room just how twisted wrestling can get.

Believe me, the time for superstars to fear what is to come is now...

The time to feel like there is a hostile threat is now...

MY TIME IS NOW!!


 

__________________________________________________


ONE UNDISPUTED KING OF KINGS"
NLWF UNDISPUTED CHAMPION




avatar
Hostyle Jones
No Limit Warrior
No Limit Warrior

Male
Birthday : 1986-07-01
Age : 31
Zodiac : Cancer
Chinese Zodiac : Tiger
Location Location : Jersey
Number of posts : 92

No Limit Wrestling Federation Info
NLWF Record: 03-00-00
No Limit Wrestling Federation Net Worth: $0
No Limit Wrestling Federation Popularity:
44/100  (44/100)

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Back to top

- Similar topics

 
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum