REAL NAME: William Bateman GENDER: Male PICBASE:Jared Leto (Long hair/Beard, please.) RACE: Caucasian NATIONALITY: German D.O.B./AGE: 4/24/1984 (34) HOMETOWN: Dusseldorf, Germany RESIDES: Los Angeles, California
PROFESSIONAL INFORMATION
RING NAME(S): William Bateman NICKNAME(S): The Pretty Boy Assassin, Christ Himself (Literally only by the Ring Announcer. No one else will do this unless it’s actually their job.) BILLED FROM: Los Angeles, California HEIGHT: 6’1” WEIGHT: 220 Lbs TRAINED BY: “I didn’t need training, thank you.” CROWD AFFILIATION: Bateman. (Tweener, if you want to get outright technical.) PROFESSIONAL DEBUT: 2006 DIVISION: Angled.
WRESTLING INFORMATION
WRESTLING STYLE: Japanese Junior Heavyweight with occasional forays into technical excellence. MATCH TACTICS: William wrestles at a high pace and high intensity, utilizing hard kicks and strikes and his grappling/technical based repertoire to constantly force pressure upon his opponent in the early going of a match. His focus is simple: wear them down, break their gas tank and their willpower and gradually increase the intensity, bearing down on them with harder hitting offense until they’re at his mercy. It’s then that the head dropping violence reaches it’s pique. While physically capable, however, to go toe to toe with most anyone...he does NOT like being at a disadvantage and will do anything to regain control of a match, crooked or otherwise. CHARACTER PERSONALITY: Arrogant. Egotistical. Confident. Glory-seeking. Self-centered. There’s many ways to describe William Bateman as a human being, and most of them are descriptors he’s given to himself. Well aware of his immense talent and unafraid to clue others in, he is very much the attention seeker in the room. If you’ve done something, he’s done it better. If you think you’ve got a talent, he’ll show you that his is better. The concept of being lesser than someone else is a foreign concept, buried deep beneath an unflinching sense of superiority that seems outright unshakable...for better or worse.
That air of superiority he possesses makes him less than trusting of people around him. He doesn’t like to be let down or disappointed, which is a constant issue with how he views those around him. While respect can be earned, it is hard to come by...but an absolute given if obtained. Unfortunately, he has very little interest in allowing people to get close. He’d much rather focus on his singular ideas of success than bring someone else along for the ride, lest they become a detriment to his grand schemes.
Ah, yes. William is a schemer. Beneath the insults, the barbs and the effortless charisma that makes just as many people love him as they do hate them, William is wickedly intelligent...and constantly working up ways to better his position. He is always trying to mentally outwork the opposition, always trying to exploit weaknesses and get what he wants. He might be a pretty boy with a million dollar spy, but the man who refers to himself as a God is nothing short of a predator, looking for the next throat to tear out on his relentless march to the top.
CHARACTER ANALYSIS: For William, there is no such thing as good or evil-there’s only what puts the most money in his bank account and adds the most prestige to his name. If he has to do despicable things in order to obtain his goals? So be it. As such, he is incredibly cold and calculating behind the arrogance and the charismatic insults-his mind always working on ways to improve his station, be it professionally or financially. There are no lines he will not cross, no sacred cow he won’t slaughter and serve up for dinner-if there is something he wants, he won’t simply step on others-he’ll use them as kindling to make his spotlight shine all the brighter.
And he sleeps just fine at night, in case you were wondering.
GIMMICK DESCRIPTION: You know that kid in school who was just good at things? Effortlessly good, maybe even amazing, and he never seemed to work at it a day in his life? Frustrating, right? Now, imagine that he became a multi-millionaire, multiple time world champion and became an egotistical bastard to boot? That’s the Pretty Boy Assassin. He’s better than you, he knows it and he’ll tell it to you. And to make matters worse? He’s got a fucking messiah complex. The cherry on top of the sundae is the fact that he’s so inherently charismatic that people love him regardless of how much of a total bastard he is.
He is everything you hate. And your hate funds his next supercar purchase.
TWITTER: @kingoftheabs EXPERIENCE: 12 years. PAST ACCOLADES: HiWF North American Champion HiWF Tag Team Champion HiWF World Heavyweight Champion Phoenix Wrestling (Then Phoenix Wrestling Revolution) Revolution X Champion 3 x Phoenix Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion Phoenix Wrestling Tag Team Champion Phoenix Wrestling Hall of Fame CRW Under Armor Champion First CRW Primetime Champion
MOVESET INFORMATION
FINISHERS
(Preferably, a submission finisher or signature needs to be added.)
PRIMARY FINISHER: The Kill-Psycho Driver SECONDARY FINISHER: GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG-a 540 knee strike to the face (Trouble In Paradise style). DESPERATION FINISHER: Strappado-Full Nelson Cattle Mutilation. FINAL FINISHER: The Swan Song-Inverted revolution style brainbuster
SIGNATURES
1. Californication-A Spike (or Poison, depending on the situation) Hurricanrana. 2. Shotei, Motherfucker!-A shotei, typically done with some measure of theatrics, or simply as a counter. 3. Outshined-Cross legged, sheer drop brainbuster onto a knee.
REGULAR MOVESET
1. Kawada Kicks-Attacker grabs his foe by the hair while they are down on all fours and rapidly kicks them in the face. 2. Enzugiri 3. Various kicks 4. Armdrag into Cross armbreaker, typically followed up with multiple heel kicks to the face and/or facewashes mid hold. 5. No hands Satellite Headscissors 6. Headscissors takedown 7. Dragon Screw 8. Dragon Whip 9. Tiger Suplex (Hold and release) 10. Release German Suplex 11. Dragon Suplex 12. Muta Lock 13. Cross Armbreaker 14. Rolling Single Leg Crab, converted into an stf. 15. Inverted STF 16. Leg Grapevine Heel Hook. 17. Some flippy stuff. Feel free to use anything short of a 630.
ENTRANCE INFORMATION
ENTRANCE THEME: Hell Of A Life by Kanye West ANNOUNCER INTRODUCTION:ERIN LAMBERT: Introducing, from Los Angeles, California, “Christ Himself”, “The Pretty Boy Assassin” William Bateman! ENTRANCE DESCRIPTION: The overhead lights fade to black, draping the arena in darkness beyond the ever-present flicker of flashes from cell phones and cameras. For several long moments, that darkness is left to reign...only ceasing when the bassline of Kanye West’s “Hell of a Life” comes thumping through the PA system in all of it’s distorted glory; the uptempo rhythm causing a strobe of white and hot pink lights to burst to life, pulsing in time with the bass as milky white fog rises from the base of the stage. It’s only as the full instrumentation breaks loose that the ‘Pretty Boy Assassin’ makes his presence known-an almost expectant look upon his face as a mixture of cheers and jeers reign down upon him while he strides through the curtains. His walk is a slow and purposeful one, taken at his leisure and performed with a certain swagger; each step taken with a slight bounce as he strokes over his beard between long glances over the audience he deems as his own.
It’s only once he’s seemingly satisfied with the reaction that he’s beginning that journey down the ramp, his arms rising out to either side and his head bowing-as if soaking in the mixture of adulation or hatred. His arms raise higher, deftly avoiding the outreached hands of the unwashed masses, even as he turns his back toward the ring to continue that arrogant, meandering march toward the bottom of the ramp. It’s only once that he’s there that he’s turning around again, looking out over the crowd again as he paces along the ring side area, idly searching for a person he deems attractive enough to offer a selfie to. It’s only after that person is found and that selfie is given (with security direction to keep undesirables out of the shot), that he’s climbing up the ring steps and onto the apron.
Pacing along the apron, an outstretched hand sweeps over the crowd before rising slowly, as though demanding their adulation once more. The process repeats itself once or twice, ceasing only once he was satisfied before he’s suddenly rushing the corner, a few running steps leading him up the outside of the turnbuckles before he’s somersaulting into the ring. Rather than landing on his feet however, ‘Christ Himself’ rolls through, coming to a knee in the center of the ring...before dramatically throwing his arms out to the side and rising, slowly but surely, with a trademark grin tugging at his lips, almost as though to say that the ‘Real’ show has his permission to start now. It’s only after drinking in the moment that he’s slowly backpedaling towards a corner of his choosing, his attention wandering out toward the crowd as he idly fixes his hair.
CHAMPIONSHIP ENTRANCE DESCRIPTION: The overhead lights fade to black, draping the arena in darkness beyond the ever-present flicker of flashes from cell phones and cameras. For several long moments, that darkness is left to reign...only ceasing when the bassline of Kanye West’s “Hell of a Life” comes thumping through the PA system in all of it’s distorted glory; the uptempo rhythm causing a strobe of white and hot pink lights to burst to life, pulsing in time with the bass as milky white fog rises from the base of the stage. It’s only as the full instrumentation breaks loose that the ‘Pretty Boy Assassin’ makes his presence known-an almost expectant look upon his face as a mixture of cheers and jeers reign down upon him as he strides through the curtains-the PW Neo (INSERT TITLE HERE) fastened around his waist and on full display. His walk is a slow and purposeful one, taken at his leisure and performed with a certain swagger; each step taken with a slight bounce as he strokes over his beard between long glances over the audience he deems as his own.
It’s only once he’s seemingly satisfied with the reaction that he’s beginning that journey down the ramp, the title torn from his waist before his arms rising out to either side and his head bowing-as if soaking in the mixture of adulation or hatred. His arms raise higher, deftly avoiding the outreached hands of the unwashed masses, even as he turns his back toward the ring to continue that arrogant, meandering march toward the bottom of the ramp. It’s only once that he’s there that he’s turning around again, looking out over the crowd again as he paces along the ring side area, title held outstretched over his head in an effort to make sure that everyone sees that which is his. It’s only once he’s satisfied that all have seen his glory and splendor that he’s climbing up the ring steps.
Pacing back and forth slowly once he’s upon the apron, he’s tossing that title up onto his shoulder before he’s gesturing toward the audience, seemingly willing them to voice their love and disdain all the louder with a slow, conductor-esque sway of his hand to and fro...before he’s waving them off and climbing up the nearby ring post. Once there, the title is once again brought into the air-held aloft over head with a single hand before he’s taking a blind leap into the ring, rolling through the landing and into the center of the ring. Coming up on a knee, the belt is draped over his shoulder anew as he slowly rises, arms held out at either side in a shameless display of grandeur before he’s backing away into the corner, taking a few moments to idly admire his belt and fix his hair before turning his attention toward the ring.
