8-31-20 Monday Night Revolution
5 posters
Page 1 of 1
8-31-20 Monday Night Revolution
by Kai Anoai Sat Jul 18, 2020 11:42 am
Promos are due here no later than August 30th at midnight!
Kai Anoai- Admin
- Posts : 211
Join date : 2016-07-31 -
Re: 8-31-20 Monday Night Revolution
by Nolee Angle Thu Jul 30, 2020 6:56 pm
The sound of a piano being played is the first thing we hear as the camera opens up on what looks to be an otherwise creepy empty hotel bar. Just because it's empty, however, does not mean it's ugly. In fact, the hotel has a beautiful old Hollywood grandeur, even in it's faded glory. Sitting at the bar, a soft smile on her face, is Nolee Angle. She's dressed in a faux denim tunic top over a pair of white leggings. She sips a cocktail as we can hear the piano player begin to play "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" from The Wizard of Oz.
Nolee: Judy Garland still has the best version of this. -smirks- Ya know about Judy Garland, right Miz? After all, you are an actor yourself. You should know about one of the greatest actresses that ever graced the silver screen. Tell me then, Miz, do you know about the shit she went through while in the spotlight?
Nolee shakes her head and tosses back the rest of her drink, without a care in the world.
Nolee: Judy was done so damn dirty. She had as much pressure from being a child star on her shoulders. Not only that, she was continuously criticized for how she looked, manipulated into doing whatever it took to look "better." She was made to extend and reshape her eyebrows, change her hairline, and even put nose discs in and get dental caps. She was spurred on by her need to perform, and her need to be in the spotlight. The abuse broke her, drove her into alcoholism and drug use. It ultimately killed her.
Nolee knocks on the bar twice, signaling that she's ready for a second drink. Her fingers drum as she sits in silence for a moment.
Nolee: I know what that's like. I know how it feels.
She takes a shaky breath before she continues.
Nolee: You all just pretend like I'm impervious to this pressure. It's been a year since my father stepped out of the spotlight. Know what I've done with the family name since? Nothing. -soft but sharp laugh- I've squandered my name by being forced to sit on the sidelines and watch everyone else. Sure, I was champ once, but I lost. I'm not even a name considered for the Showcase Championship. -smirks- But then again...neither were you, Miz.
Nolee takes the drink the bartender brings her, nodding her approval.
Nolee: It's great that you wanna make a change in your career. You wanna be a good guy? C'mon Miz. You are better than that. So much better. These fans don't wanna see soft and sweet Miz. Besides, that's not you. You aren't a good guy. You're letting these fans put pressure on you to be something you aren't. You should embrace what you are.
She shakes her head as she sips her drink. There seems to be something behind her soft eyes.
Nolee: I'm embracing who I am. Everyone wants to think I'm a spoiled second-gen star. Jericho especially. The only one here who seems to see me for what I am is Marco Ellis. He sees in me a decorated fighter. And you know what, maybe I should remember that.
She sips her drink as she looks serious, a sneer on her lips.
Nolee: First, you, Miz. Then Jericho.
The camera pans out on the faded Hollywood bar, Nolee standing out as a bright spot among the fading glory of the old glitz.
Nolee: Judy Garland still has the best version of this. -smirks- Ya know about Judy Garland, right Miz? After all, you are an actor yourself. You should know about one of the greatest actresses that ever graced the silver screen. Tell me then, Miz, do you know about the shit she went through while in the spotlight?
Nolee shakes her head and tosses back the rest of her drink, without a care in the world.
Nolee: Judy was done so damn dirty. She had as much pressure from being a child star on her shoulders. Not only that, she was continuously criticized for how she looked, manipulated into doing whatever it took to look "better." She was made to extend and reshape her eyebrows, change her hairline, and even put nose discs in and get dental caps. She was spurred on by her need to perform, and her need to be in the spotlight. The abuse broke her, drove her into alcoholism and drug use. It ultimately killed her.
Nolee knocks on the bar twice, signaling that she's ready for a second drink. Her fingers drum as she sits in silence for a moment.
Nolee: I know what that's like. I know how it feels.
She takes a shaky breath before she continues.
Nolee: You all just pretend like I'm impervious to this pressure. It's been a year since my father stepped out of the spotlight. Know what I've done with the family name since? Nothing. -soft but sharp laugh- I've squandered my name by being forced to sit on the sidelines and watch everyone else. Sure, I was champ once, but I lost. I'm not even a name considered for the Showcase Championship. -smirks- But then again...neither were you, Miz.
Nolee takes the drink the bartender brings her, nodding her approval.
Nolee: It's great that you wanna make a change in your career. You wanna be a good guy? C'mon Miz. You are better than that. So much better. These fans don't wanna see soft and sweet Miz. Besides, that's not you. You aren't a good guy. You're letting these fans put pressure on you to be something you aren't. You should embrace what you are.
She shakes her head as she sips her drink. There seems to be something behind her soft eyes.
Nolee: I'm embracing who I am. Everyone wants to think I'm a spoiled second-gen star. Jericho especially. The only one here who seems to see me for what I am is Marco Ellis. He sees in me a decorated fighter. And you know what, maybe I should remember that.
She sips her drink as she looks serious, a sneer on her lips.
Nolee: First, you, Miz. Then Jericho.
The camera pans out on the faded Hollywood bar, Nolee standing out as a bright spot among the fading glory of the old glitz.
Nolee Angle- Posts : 19
Join date : 2019-02-12
Re: 8-31-20 Monday Night Revolution
by Marty Scurll Thu Jul 30, 2020 7:34 pm
The sound of gulls near the ocean can be heard as the camera opens up on a graying skyline. It is not the beauty that most would think of when thinking of the ocean. Rain drizzles across the landscape, we see more of a rocky outcropping than we do beautiful beach sand. In the water, up to his waist, stands Marty Scurll. One would expect Marty to be dressed in some sort of bathing suit. He is not. Marty's top is a long-sleeved white button-up underneath a seafoam green vest with a gray tie.
Marty: -grimace- No, no, this won't do at all.
The camera goes to static before coming up on a new image. The beach and the weather remain as desolate as before. The camera instead shows Marty, still dressed as he was, sitting at a beachside cafe, a glass of wine in front of him. He looks at the ocean with disgust on his face.
Marty: I spent too much time at the beach when I was tag-teaming with that...numpty. But then I heard I was going to be going toe-to-toe with one of our newest talents: Ilya Merrow.
Marty lets out a throaty chuckle, eyes trailing out to glance at the ocean. He runs one hand through his hair before he continues.
Marty: Merrow and Phoenix are /quite/ interesting surnames. Phoenix, of course, is a reference to the mythical bird. Something that rises from the ashes of defeat and bursts forward into something new. Merrow? Oh, as a Scottish woman, you know precisely what a merrow is Ilya, but let me tell these numpties in the fan base what exactly a merrow is.
He sneers and gestures towards the water.
Marty: A merrow is a sort of mermaid. Well, it's truly closer to the myth of the selkie in some aspects. Anyways, it's a half-fish, half-human creature like the mermaid. Like the selkie, it can travel on land. The typical merrow uses a cap to travel to the land. Some think the cap is just a hat, but others believe it to be a salmon skin.
Marty lets out a sharp bark of a laugh, shaking his head as if to disagree with the stories.
Marty: I watched your little entrance segment for the show. It's a cutesy little story, innit? Once separated family now comes together as a tag-team. How very sickening. I, of course, had to watch to make sure you didn't have webbing between your fingers. Your interview and your good old Lucha Underground did exactly what your little fishie humans do. They flopped.
He sneers again and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair.
Marty: Your cohuleen druith must be well hidden, Miss Merrow, because what else could be keeping you in this business you don't belong in. Does Ardan keep it from you to keep you as the sea-wife of a phoenix? Or perhaps you're the sea-wife of your little faerie friend? Either way, they should really give it back to you before this match against me.
Marty licks his lips before taking a sip of his wine and watching the sea once again.
Marty: Now, I know what they say about mermaids. They're supposedly mankillers who lure in sailors with their music. The only song playing in my ears is the screech I hear from my banshee.
His fingers play with the rose necklace he wears as a reminder of his loving relationship with Isadora Ainsley. He grins again as he watches the sea, the seafoam playing against the rocky outcropping on the beach.
Marty: You remind me of another little mermaid, Ilya. Not the simplified, lovely little Disney version, albeit your hair is every bit as lovely. No, no, I'm speaking of the traditional story. The dear mergirl who refused to stab her beloved who was to marry another, and for her refusal and the negation of her end of the bargain, dies and turns into seafoam. That, Ilya, is your fate. Turned to seafoam and your hopes to showcase your talents dashed against the rocks.
The camera goes out of focus from Marty, our focus instead on the waves against the rocks as the camera fades to black.
Marty: -grimace- No, no, this won't do at all.
The camera goes to static before coming up on a new image. The beach and the weather remain as desolate as before. The camera instead shows Marty, still dressed as he was, sitting at a beachside cafe, a glass of wine in front of him. He looks at the ocean with disgust on his face.
Marty: I spent too much time at the beach when I was tag-teaming with that...numpty. But then I heard I was going to be going toe-to-toe with one of our newest talents: Ilya Merrow.
Marty lets out a throaty chuckle, eyes trailing out to glance at the ocean. He runs one hand through his hair before he continues.
Marty: Merrow and Phoenix are /quite/ interesting surnames. Phoenix, of course, is a reference to the mythical bird. Something that rises from the ashes of defeat and bursts forward into something new. Merrow? Oh, as a Scottish woman, you know precisely what a merrow is Ilya, but let me tell these numpties in the fan base what exactly a merrow is.
He sneers and gestures towards the water.
Marty: A merrow is a sort of mermaid. Well, it's truly closer to the myth of the selkie in some aspects. Anyways, it's a half-fish, half-human creature like the mermaid. Like the selkie, it can travel on land. The typical merrow uses a cap to travel to the land. Some think the cap is just a hat, but others believe it to be a salmon skin.
Marty lets out a sharp bark of a laugh, shaking his head as if to disagree with the stories.
Marty: I watched your little entrance segment for the show. It's a cutesy little story, innit? Once separated family now comes together as a tag-team. How very sickening. I, of course, had to watch to make sure you didn't have webbing between your fingers. Your interview and your good old Lucha Underground did exactly what your little fishie humans do. They flopped.
He sneers again and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair.
Marty: Your cohuleen druith must be well hidden, Miss Merrow, because what else could be keeping you in this business you don't belong in. Does Ardan keep it from you to keep you as the sea-wife of a phoenix? Or perhaps you're the sea-wife of your little faerie friend? Either way, they should really give it back to you before this match against me.
Marty licks his lips before taking a sip of his wine and watching the sea once again.
Marty: Now, I know what they say about mermaids. They're supposedly mankillers who lure in sailors with their music. The only song playing in my ears is the screech I hear from my banshee.
His fingers play with the rose necklace he wears as a reminder of his loving relationship with Isadora Ainsley. He grins again as he watches the sea, the seafoam playing against the rocky outcropping on the beach.
Marty: You remind me of another little mermaid, Ilya. Not the simplified, lovely little Disney version, albeit your hair is every bit as lovely. No, no, I'm speaking of the traditional story. The dear mergirl who refused to stab her beloved who was to marry another, and for her refusal and the negation of her end of the bargain, dies and turns into seafoam. That, Ilya, is your fate. Turned to seafoam and your hopes to showcase your talents dashed against the rocks.
The camera goes out of focus from Marty, our focus instead on the waves against the rocks as the camera fades to black.
Marty Scurll- Posts : 1
Join date : 2020-07-30
Re: 8-31-20 Monday Night Revolution
by Wade Barrett Wed Aug 05, 2020 4:57 pm
Before the camera opens up, we can hear a male voice. It is a slow, measured, and soft voice.
Voice: Statement of Wade Barrett regarding his upcoming match against Darby Allin in order to gain the new developed Showcase Championship. Original statement given August 2nd, 2020. Statement begins.
The camera comes up on what looks like an interrogation room. Behind the desk sits Wade Barrett, looking better than we have seen him in a while. His thick black beard is neatly trimmed, his hair having a nice gray streak through the sides. His black shirt has the sleeves rolled up to his forearms.
Wade: I was bred to be a fighter. My father didn't leave much choice, the bastard that he was. It was either I learned to fight or watch what he did to my mother. As I got older, I ended up bonding with my elder brother Grant. He taught me how to use my basic fighting skills into something more. That's when I started my love for the hunt, I guess.
Wade adjusts his tie, combing a hand through his hair as if he's nervous. Yet, there is a wildness behind his eyes.
Wade: I started doing my bare-knuckle fighting and started my hunt for the glory that comes with fighting. I stalked that glory, hunted that glory, from the underground bare-knuckle boxing circuit to every company where I have been. I made friends along the way, PJ, for instance, but that was never the goal. The goal has always been the hunt for glory.
That wildness behind Wade's eyes is still there as he pauses. There's something else in Wade's eyes as he continues, an animalistic hunger that shows this hunt for glory is not just a proverbial one. He needs that glory, that recognition, almost like an animal needs food.
Wade: That hunt for glory has led me to the NCWA. I thought my shot at glory would come at the side of a man I respected like a brother. Turns out that he was just a distraction, something to delay the hunt a little while longer. And then...then I saw my name on the list of people fighting, hunting, for a new glory.
Wade touches a picture lying on the table, two of them lying side-by-side. The first is the tournament layout, showing who is going to be fighting who. The other is a photograph of newcomer Darby Allin. This is not a photo taken by a photographer in a studio. This photo looks like it was taken by someone trying to be discreet. Darby's half-painted face is seen under a black hood as he checks into a hotel, Priscilla Kelly more evident beside him.
Wade: A new glory that puts me into direct opposition with Darby Allin. I've heard that name before, but it's one that I've never had the honor of working alongside. From what I hear, he quite enjoys doing flips and being reckless. I've never seen a full match of his, never. I don't understand much about this new prey. Then again, -chuckle-, from what I see, he's "not an enigma for us to decode." Do you happen to know what else he is? He's not worthy of being a competitor for the Showcase Championship.
He looks down at the photo, touching the edge of it. He looks proud as he touches the edge of the photo, giving an approving nod. The look on his face is akin to the look on a lion's after he's trapped an antelope.
Wade: Have you been a competitor here to showcase your skills, Mr. Allin? No? Do you know who has? Me! -snarls as he slams a hand down on the table- Do you know who's never once been able to show why he's the fighting he truly is? Again! ME!
Wade slams the other hand down on the table, pushing the chair out and standing to his full height.
Wade: I will not let you take this from me, Mr. Allin. I am no longer held by a teammate who hesitates when push comes to shove. No, the teammate at my side understands my need for the hunt. I'm hunting you, Mr. Allin, just like I have hunted so many before. And if I have to snap your neck to prove my skills? Well then, I'll just be giving you exactly what you want. I'm a hunter, Mr. Allin. And you're just one more prey on a long list of others.
Wade turns to leave, and that's when we realize something: the walls are littered with pictures similar to the one of Darby on the table. Photos of Chris Jericho, that seem to date as far back as 2010, leading up to images of Marty Scurll and Isadora Ainsley from months ago. The common thread being, of course, that all of these men and women are enemies of Wade Barrett. The camera fades out as we hear the first man's voice.
Voice: Statement ends.
Voice: Statement of Wade Barrett regarding his upcoming match against Darby Allin in order to gain the new developed Showcase Championship. Original statement given August 2nd, 2020. Statement begins.
The camera comes up on what looks like an interrogation room. Behind the desk sits Wade Barrett, looking better than we have seen him in a while. His thick black beard is neatly trimmed, his hair having a nice gray streak through the sides. His black shirt has the sleeves rolled up to his forearms.
Wade: I was bred to be a fighter. My father didn't leave much choice, the bastard that he was. It was either I learned to fight or watch what he did to my mother. As I got older, I ended up bonding with my elder brother Grant. He taught me how to use my basic fighting skills into something more. That's when I started my love for the hunt, I guess.
Wade adjusts his tie, combing a hand through his hair as if he's nervous. Yet, there is a wildness behind his eyes.
Wade: I started doing my bare-knuckle fighting and started my hunt for the glory that comes with fighting. I stalked that glory, hunted that glory, from the underground bare-knuckle boxing circuit to every company where I have been. I made friends along the way, PJ, for instance, but that was never the goal. The goal has always been the hunt for glory.
That wildness behind Wade's eyes is still there as he pauses. There's something else in Wade's eyes as he continues, an animalistic hunger that shows this hunt for glory is not just a proverbial one. He needs that glory, that recognition, almost like an animal needs food.
Wade: That hunt for glory has led me to the NCWA. I thought my shot at glory would come at the side of a man I respected like a brother. Turns out that he was just a distraction, something to delay the hunt a little while longer. And then...then I saw my name on the list of people fighting, hunting, for a new glory.
Wade touches a picture lying on the table, two of them lying side-by-side. The first is the tournament layout, showing who is going to be fighting who. The other is a photograph of newcomer Darby Allin. This is not a photo taken by a photographer in a studio. This photo looks like it was taken by someone trying to be discreet. Darby's half-painted face is seen under a black hood as he checks into a hotel, Priscilla Kelly more evident beside him.
Wade: A new glory that puts me into direct opposition with Darby Allin. I've heard that name before, but it's one that I've never had the honor of working alongside. From what I hear, he quite enjoys doing flips and being reckless. I've never seen a full match of his, never. I don't understand much about this new prey. Then again, -chuckle-, from what I see, he's "not an enigma for us to decode." Do you happen to know what else he is? He's not worthy of being a competitor for the Showcase Championship.
He looks down at the photo, touching the edge of it. He looks proud as he touches the edge of the photo, giving an approving nod. The look on his face is akin to the look on a lion's after he's trapped an antelope.
Wade: Have you been a competitor here to showcase your skills, Mr. Allin? No? Do you know who has? Me! -snarls as he slams a hand down on the table- Do you know who's never once been able to show why he's the fighting he truly is? Again! ME!
Wade slams the other hand down on the table, pushing the chair out and standing to his full height.
Wade: I will not let you take this from me, Mr. Allin. I am no longer held by a teammate who hesitates when push comes to shove. No, the teammate at my side understands my need for the hunt. I'm hunting you, Mr. Allin, just like I have hunted so many before. And if I have to snap your neck to prove my skills? Well then, I'll just be giving you exactly what you want. I'm a hunter, Mr. Allin. And you're just one more prey on a long list of others.
Wade turns to leave, and that's when we realize something: the walls are littered with pictures similar to the one of Darby on the table. Photos of Chris Jericho, that seem to date as far back as 2010, leading up to images of Marty Scurll and Isadora Ainsley from months ago. The common thread being, of course, that all of these men and women are enemies of Wade Barrett. The camera fades out as we hear the first man's voice.
Voice: Statement ends.
Wade Barrett- Posts : 29
Join date : 2017-08-18
Age : 43
Location : Manchester, England
Re: 8-31-20 Monday Night Revolution
by Rae James Wed Aug 12, 2020 10:20 pm
The camera opens up on a graveyard. The sun is just setting in the background, the sky different hues of orange and yellow, but the scene still feels eerie. A figure enters the scene: a woman dressed entirely in black. A long black veil covers the figures face, a long black lace dress covers the body of the figure. The figure kneels, and we can see the name and year on the grave they kneel in front of.
The camera focuses on the figure kneeling on the grave before they lift the veil over their face. It is NCWA Superstar Rae James. She looks softly at the grave, a gentle hand touching the tombstone.
Rae: Mercy Brown had a destiny to fulfill, even if she never knew it. She was just a kid, after all. In her life, she did nothing extraordinary. It wasn't until her death that she fulfilled her destiny.
There is a small frown on red painted lips.
Rae: Mercy watched her family get sick and die. Her mother, then Mercy's older sister. Then herself and her brother, but she died first. People believed it to be the work of a vampire, even if that's not the name they used. In all actuality, it was just consumption. Her dad didn't see it that way.
A rage flashes behind Rae's eyes before she continues.
Rae: George Brown had the graves of Mercy, her mother, and her sister exhumed. Of course, her mom and her sister were decomposed. Mercy though? She had been stored in a crypt above ground for two months after her death. She was, to George and the other men, a living corpse. They did what superstition told them to do: burned Mercy's heart and liver, mixed the ashes with water to make a tonic for the son Edwin to drink. It was supposed to heal him. -scoffs- It didn't. He died two months later.
There seems to be tears in her eyes, Rae chewing on her lower lip.
Rae: I told this story for a reason. All my stories have a reason. -soft breath- I know my career could be over in the eyes of the fans. I was brutally robbed of my Maverick Division Championship. I wasn't even pinned. I watched as Marco Ellis took my title by pinning Remy. The look in his eyes when...when he realized he's won...I'll never forget it. I'll never forgive this.
There is a brief hint of pure anger in her eyes, Rae stands.
Rae: Just like Mercy Brown, I'll find my destiny in my death. I will scratch and crawl my way through the division until I am at the top again. -smirks- And that brings me to Jacen Westmore.
Rae looks up at the sky with a small smile, as if enjoying the night.
Rae: It always comes back to the two of us, doesn't it Jacen? You've been a sort of measuring stick for me here in the NCWA. You were the one who I won my title from. You've also been a target for Ellis. No doubt that the guy wants us to fight each other, that way he doesn't have to worry about the two of us. Smart, really. Put the two of us against each other and get us out of the way. The problem is, I don't care if it's you or Adam Page or Remy Brooks. I will make my way through this roster to claim my destiny. To get my title back.
She looks dead into the camera, a determined look on her face.
Rae: You may be my friend, Jacen, but I'm not the same woman I was. The old Rae James is buried, just the same as Mercy Brown. And unlike Mercy, there's no digging her up.
The camera fades out as Rae walks away from the grave marker and into the ever blackening night.
Mercy L.
Daughter of
George T & Mary F. Brown
Died Jan 17, 1892
Aged 19 years
Daughter of
George T & Mary F. Brown
Died Jan 17, 1892
Aged 19 years
The camera focuses on the figure kneeling on the grave before they lift the veil over their face. It is NCWA Superstar Rae James. She looks softly at the grave, a gentle hand touching the tombstone.
Rae: Mercy Brown had a destiny to fulfill, even if she never knew it. She was just a kid, after all. In her life, she did nothing extraordinary. It wasn't until her death that she fulfilled her destiny.
There is a small frown on red painted lips.
Rae: Mercy watched her family get sick and die. Her mother, then Mercy's older sister. Then herself and her brother, but she died first. People believed it to be the work of a vampire, even if that's not the name they used. In all actuality, it was just consumption. Her dad didn't see it that way.
A rage flashes behind Rae's eyes before she continues.
Rae: George Brown had the graves of Mercy, her mother, and her sister exhumed. Of course, her mom and her sister were decomposed. Mercy though? She had been stored in a crypt above ground for two months after her death. She was, to George and the other men, a living corpse. They did what superstition told them to do: burned Mercy's heart and liver, mixed the ashes with water to make a tonic for the son Edwin to drink. It was supposed to heal him. -scoffs- It didn't. He died two months later.
There seems to be tears in her eyes, Rae chewing on her lower lip.
Rae: I told this story for a reason. All my stories have a reason. -soft breath- I know my career could be over in the eyes of the fans. I was brutally robbed of my Maverick Division Championship. I wasn't even pinned. I watched as Marco Ellis took my title by pinning Remy. The look in his eyes when...when he realized he's won...I'll never forget it. I'll never forgive this.
There is a brief hint of pure anger in her eyes, Rae stands.
Rae: Just like Mercy Brown, I'll find my destiny in my death. I will scratch and crawl my way through the division until I am at the top again. -smirks- And that brings me to Jacen Westmore.
Rae looks up at the sky with a small smile, as if enjoying the night.
Rae: It always comes back to the two of us, doesn't it Jacen? You've been a sort of measuring stick for me here in the NCWA. You were the one who I won my title from. You've also been a target for Ellis. No doubt that the guy wants us to fight each other, that way he doesn't have to worry about the two of us. Smart, really. Put the two of us against each other and get us out of the way. The problem is, I don't care if it's you or Adam Page or Remy Brooks. I will make my way through this roster to claim my destiny. To get my title back.
She looks dead into the camera, a determined look on her face.
Rae: You may be my friend, Jacen, but I'm not the same woman I was. The old Rae James is buried, just the same as Mercy Brown. And unlike Mercy, there's no digging her up.
The camera fades out as Rae walks away from the grave marker and into the ever blackening night.
Rae James- Posts : 18
Join date : 2017-10-24
Similar topics» 3-25-19 Monday Night Revolution
» 6-25-18 Monday Night Revolution
» 9-30-19 Monday Night Revolution
» 8-31-20 Monday Night Revolution
» 9-30-19 Monday Night Revolution
» 6-25-18 Monday Night Revolution
» 9-30-19 Monday Night Revolution
» 8-31-20 Monday Night Revolution
» 9-30-19 Monday Night Revolution
Page 1 of 1
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum|
|
|