And scam some free banners off of people!
Name: Ali Khadafi
Real Name: Ali Khadafi
Last Known Aliases: Piss God, Big Black Monster, and Shithead.
Height: 5’11”
Weight: 220 lbs.
Hailing From: Pahoa, Hawaii via Kibeho, Rwanda
Currently Living In: Minneapolis, MN
Entrance Theme: “Road to Zion” by Damien Marley
Alignment: Heel(?). I am not interested in classifying myself by the standards of wrestlers. I am who I am. Many of the people who I’ve worked with – many of the people whom I’ve intentionally scarred and made every overt physical and mental attempt to butcher – feel that I’m an unadulterated prick in the purest sense. I leave a bad taste in the mouth of the people that I’m around but I believe that it must be taken in context of the environment that we’ve all agreed to cohabitate in.
This is a realm that we have, for better or for worse, conjured into reality. We as wrestlers, fighters, and individuals have placed ourselves into an atmosphere where people depend on us for entertainment. We are a circus. We are a freak show on wheels and steroids. We are who we think we are and with that in mind I can only be who I am.
I attract people who are obsessed with being predators. I thrive on violence and strife while others evolve under the placebo of glory and illustrious monetary gain.
I cannot reiterate this solitary fact with more emphasis: I am who I am.
I am violent.
I am brutal.
I am arrogant, and believe with the very core of my being that this arrogance is firmly seated on a throne constructed from talent and the corpses of the ego’s that I’ve gathered – one by one – throughout the years.
I don’t care if your friend runs the company and I don’t care if every single human being in the world thinks you are the Lords gift to humanity because I will verbally crush you. I will say things that hurt your feelings and do so without remorse. I will not hesitate to physically punish you.
I’ve made a career out of hurting wrestlers for the pure enjoyment that I get out of rending the walls of their fantasies and piling said walls up around my boots. I will go to extreme lengths, endure intense amounts of personal duress, to destroy you from the ground up.
I want to harm people in a way that scores them to the marrow.
I thirst to cut deeply, precisely, and mercilessly.
So, I guess you could say that I’m a heel.
Biography:
I was born in Rwanda right before the genocide struck. When my mind was the most responsive to outside stimulus I experienced the conscious extermination of my people. I witnessed my family put to the sword with a meticulous attention to detail; of this I am told because I have no conscious recollection.
I was orphaned as a toddler and please bear in mind that that particular idea only tugs on the heart strings of people who were raised under the umbrella of affluence and luxury. In the real world it is a common occurance; nothing that you would write home to mother about.
A humanitarian aid group placed with foster parents in Hawaii. Most people create images of the ocean, as smooth as glass, and a lush tropical atmosphere seconds before they curse my luck for being raised in the 50th state. I will freely admit that my life, the formative years through young adulthood, were spent in a place that probably far exceeds wherever you were raised; however, I will counter any and all arguments with the fact that I was merely a body used to collect a check. If you don’t understand what I am saying then you are incredibly naïve to the ways of the world and I envy your ignorance.
I was raised in poverty. Poverty within the United States is head and shoulders above poverty in a third world country, especially a third world African country – I ask you in all seriousness, is there anything other than that in the cradle of civilization - , but it was a destitute poverty none the less.
Wrestling Style: Brutal, hand-to-hand, knitty-gritty street-fighting tactics.
I've got about a month's worth of serious Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu training under
my belt, and the rest of my submission work I've gleaned from downloading
highlight videos of Hayato Sakurai and "Kid" Yamamoto off of the internet.
Basic Moves:
1. Eye gouging
2. Low blows
3. Biting
4. Small joint manipulation, i.e. I grab your hands and break some fingers.
5. Armbar. I suck at these.
6. Triangle Choke. I'm pretty good at these actually, won a few pit fights
with them.
7. Punching
8. Kicking. I like kicking at the knee joints in an attempt to cause extreme
joint damage.
9. Two-handed chokes; i.e. what you saw your father do to yer ma when dinner
was late.
10. Fish-hooks.
11. Knee Bars. I'm fucking sweet with these. They're my bread and butter.
Signature Moves/Set-Up Moves (and description if necessary):
Set-up Move: This is what I do to set up my finisher, if that's what you want
to call it. Basically, I lay a hard punch to the face of my opponent and
knock them flat on their ass. Cool, eh? This is IMMEDIATELY followed by:
Golden Shower - Exactly what the name implies. I unlimber my ol' hog leg and
urinate on my semi-conscious opponent.
Finishing Moves (and description if necessary):
Piss on Yer Grave, or the P.O.Y.G. for short- When my foe is sitting on the
mat after I give 'em one to the face I wrap them up in a rear naked choke. I
always make sure to have my legs scissored around their torso so that they
can't breathe before looping one bony arm around their throat and hooking
that hand into the crook of my other arm. I then arch my back while
squeezing with my legs. They summarily strangle. I don't give a shit if
they tap out or the ref stops the match. I choke the shit out of the bastard
until they're dead or I've been forcibly removed.
Sample RP:
I am a parasite.
I am the itching, burning, knawing, sickness that buzzes in the back of your head eating your brain cells until turn into slush and run out of your ears.
I am your insomnia.
I am the reason why your Tylenol PM doesn’t fucking work.
I am the reason why you stare up at the cheap, shit motel ceiling counting the stains and gouges and chinks.
I am the reason why you have dark circles under your eyes, and blood veins across your eyes.
I am the reason for that crick in your neck, because the head of a shovel isn’t anything to joke about.
I am the reason the top of your fucking nappy little head has got stitches in it.
I am the reason why you have vertigo every time you stand up; concussions are fucked.
I am the reason why you have a human finger sitting on the table next to your bed.
I am the reason why you sit up and question your vary existence.
I am the reason why you can’t look in your mother’s face without shame.
I am the reason why you dumped the NACCP and created that other shit group.
I am the reason why you lock your doors and windows at night.
I am the reason why parents keep their kids away from the televisions while I’m on.
I am the reason why PCW’s ratings have dropped .2 points.
I am the reason why you walk the streets in fear.
I am the reason why you beg.
I am the reason why you plead.
I am the reason why you don’t have a roommate anymore.
I am the reason why you can’t get hard, because you know I raped your friend.
I am the reason why you look at all your mail like it’s coated with anthrax because I called your house and made you listen to Kintei having his testicles cut off.
I am the reason why your balls pull up close to your stomach.
I am the reason why you feel like a total shit when you drive past the projects on your way to your airport; are dubs really that important?
I am the reason why you’ve forced yourself to look at the two strict social orders within the African American race.
I am the reason why you fear the poor black person.
I am the reason why the poor black person is feared.
I am the reason why you will find yourself split open…
I am the reason why you will find your nose broken…
I am the reason why you will find your teeth missing…
I am the reason why you will find you shoulder torn…
I am the reason why people will throw fresh dirt over your grave…
I am…
I am…
I am
