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Wade Elliott Biography

Fed Info

Fed Awards
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Fed Titles
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Wrestling Info

Entrance Music
"Still Unbroken," by Lynyrd Skynyrd  
Physical Description
The Bad Dog stands at six feet, four inches tall and weighs in at two-hundred and fifty-seven pounds. He is the physical embodiment of "tough." You won't find roided-out biceps and pectorals, you'll find a lean, strong, working-man's physique. A lifetime of being battered, beat-up, broken and re-broken has tempered the man into a walking piece of iron.

He's going to look right through you with a pair of keen, light blue eyes and scowl at you behind a full, brown goatee (a few gray hairs poking through.) His hair's a little longer these days, a couple inches on top.

Alongside a tattoo proudly showing off a pair of crossed Confederate flags, you'll see a lot of scars on his chest, shoulders and forearms.
 
Ring Attire
Nothin' fancy, son. Heavy steel-toed boots, jeans and a belt.
 
Wrestling Style
Stubborn Bastard Roughneck Brawler  
Finisher Move
'The Rebel Yell'  
Finisher Description
Over-the-right-shoulder pendulum spinebuster.  
MDK Finisher
Super-Plex  
MDK Description
Only a real "MDK" finisher if it involves sending them through tables and the like.  
3-5 Signature Moves
-Mudhole Stomps (ala Steve Austin).
-Spear followed by mounted punches.
-Big Boot directed at the sternum.
-Southern Hospitality - Clothesline from Hell.
-The South Shall Rise Again - Picture this: Wade's getting the crap beat out of him for a spell, really hammered on, and the opponent leaves him lying on the mat, and takes a second to play the crowd. At this time, Wade will suddenly sit up, rub his head, and much to the opponent's dismay, will stand up and get back to work.
 
10 Common Holds/Maneuvers
-Haymakers
-Jabs
-Compact uppercuts
-Stomps
-Knees
-Elbows
-Spear
-Piledriver
-Powerbomb on mid to small-sized opponents
-Suplexes of whatever kind
 
Ring Entrances
The lights dim a touch, an ominous hum rising through the arena. The big screen slowly fading from a black void to the outline of a man. As the screen brightens it reveals the man more clearly, clad in the gray uniform of the Rebel Army.

And then that guitar hits.

"Still Unbroken," by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

The soldier grabs hold of a tattered Confederate Flag, breaking into a sprint. He charges up a war-torn hill as the wicked riff from the greatest band to ever play make the PA beg for mercy. The soldier reaches the top of the hill, planting the flag into the ground as the guitar dies off, giving way to the rugged words of Johnny Van Zandt while that tattered flag waves on the screen.

"Broken bones, broken hearts,
stripped down and torn apart.
A little bit of rust,
I'm still runnin'.
Countin' miles, countin' tears,
twistin' roads, shiftin' gears.
Year after year,
it's all or nothin'!!!"


And then, that guitar again with the chorus. So loud. So. God. Damn. Loud. Shutting out the arena's fans completely. The big screen ignites to life once again, showcasing a different piece to a puzzle long-gone with each hammering of those strings.

The cap of a worn out, steel-toed boot.

"But I'm not home!"

Roughed up leather belt.

"I'm not lost!"

Taped fingers clenching into a fist.

"Still holdin' on to what I got!
Ain't much left,
Lord there's so much that's been stolen!"


Crossed Confederate flag tattoo, waving proudly on a left pectoral.

"Guess I've lost everything I've had!"

Left half of a steely blue gaze, eyebrow furled.

"But I'm not dead, at least not yet!"
Still alone, still alive, still unbroken!
I'm still alone, still alive, I'm still unbroken!!!!!"


And as that guitar throttles the eardrums, out walks "The Bad Dog," Wade Elliott, letting that Confederate flag tattoo fly proud on his shirtless chest, clad in the usual worn blue jeans and roughed-up steel-toed work boots. A red, white and blue light-show forces the crowd to throw on sunglasses they may have brought with them, burning retinas as they pulse with the guitar.

The 'Bama Bruiser continues his march down the ramp as the music slows once more. He walks by the roaring fans, looking for high-fives and pats on the back. He reaches the bottom, starting up the steps as the chorus brings the music back to that brain-rattling noise level. He lumbers to the far turnbuckle, climbing to the second rope, throwing that arm in the air.

"I'm still aloooone!
Still aliiiive!
Still unbrokeeeeennnn!!"


He pauses a moment, gaze drawing across the crowd, before hopping down and taking place in his corner, music trailing off and the lights returning to normal.
 

LATEST PROPAGANDA

TALKING SMACK

"Hey, GC!"

- OSCAR BURNS

DEFonDEMAND



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