The Corpse

Handler: Jason Tostevin

ICQ#: None (Office firewall!)

Height/Weight: 6'2" 220 lbs

Hometown: A Graveyard in Central New Orleans

Entrance Theme (music, pyros, attire, etc.): The arena lights flash as a
festive Cajun jig plays, getting the crowd to rise to its feet in
anticipation. They clap and bounce, waving signs like"Green Means Go" and
"The Corpse is no Stiff". Suddenly, the lights dip. Blue and red
floodlights bloom in the darkness and we hear creaking wood and rattling
chains over a pressing, urgent march. The music is spine tingling. On the
ADCTRON flashes a graveyard scene, with headstones poking up through
swirling ground-fog. The camera view there whips between the tombstones,
speeding up until it stops suddenly, focused on a single, cracked memorial:
it reads, "THE CORPSE". Simultaneously he appears at the head of the stage,
and the audience responds with a tremendous rush of cheers and applause. As
he raises his hands over head, holding one fist enclose in the other, red
sparks flare and flow like mist over the edges of the stage. Allowing the
cheers to continue for a moment, he then walks determinedly to the ring.

Heel/Face/Tweener: Face, though personal convictions may cause some heel
behavior. Not a tweener, only because he is almost exclusively a face.

Wrestlers History: The Corpse has been able to learn very little about his
past since Reese saved him from a strange fate one night in a Central New
Orleans cemetery.
Reese, on his first visit to New Orleans, became lost and stumbled drunk
into a historied graveyard. The cemetery was replete with huge mausoleums
and decrepit headstones. A weird chanting drew him into the heart of the
hallowed ground, and when he rounded the walls of two-story crypt, he came
upon a fantastic scene.
A man in a tall black tophat and flowing robes, his face painted as a
death's head, shouted loudly in a strange language. Next to him was an open
casket, its lid partially knocked off its hinges. At the voodoo priest's
feet, in a shallow grave, was a dirty, shirtless man. His face was hidden
by unkempt blonde hair and his skin had a greenish hue. Two wooden lamps
placed in the ground burned with flickering flames, casting odd shadows on
both figures' faces.
As the prayer reached its climax, the priest raised a wavy ceremonially
dagger high in both hands. The blade was wickedly curved and it's point
shook violently, pointing down at the unconscious green man's chest. The
dagger was poised to strike...
But Reese rumbled forward, and before he knew what he was doing he'd
clotheslined the priest into the casket. The knife thunked into the ground
inches from the still man's form as the casket topped thudded shut on the
priest. The voodoo man's muffled cries and thumps could he heard as Reese
grabbed up the green man, slung him over his shoulder, and ran from the
graveyard.
"The Corpse", as Reese was now thinking affectionately of the green man,
came too slowly on the street. Reese steered him to an all night Cajun
diner, where, over coffee, The Corpse spoke in low, powerful tones. His
voice was quiet but there was strength in his delivery, strength in his
words. He spoke in broken fragments of "...the Cabal...", a
"...conspiracy...", and a promise to "...make them pay." Reese learned only
that the Cabal was some ominous organization, a group that had, for unknown
(or unremembered) reasons afflicted The Corpse with his strange state.
The Corpse moved with Reese and, for two years, trained as a wrestler. He
was lithe, uncannily strong, and technically superior. He was a dogged,
determined foe, with a spirit so strong it could almost be touched. The
Corpse would not back down...he would not give up. His pain threshold was
so high that he met most submission moves with detached, thoughtful attempt
at reversal. Only his light weight was somewhat a liability, but he more
than made up for it in his vicious style and disciplined, unmatched
persistence.
The Corpse has proven himself an elite wrestler and an unmatched intellect.
He is a former tag, intercontinental, and world title holder. With the help
of his best friend Reese and his confidants, the Brothers Grimm, The Corpse
has dominated opponents and feuded with the PWA's finest: Steven Remo,
Raizzor, Cinergy, and more.
But, in his successes, he still hasn't found what he came looking for:
His past, and the thieves that robbed him of it, that warm New Orleans'
night.

Finishing Move: The Closed Casket (also known as the NightSky Sleeper)

Description of Finisher: The Corpse stands hip-to-hip with his opponent,
pre-Rock Bottom style, with his green arm wrapped around his opponent's
neck. They are facing opposite directions (continue to picture pre-Rock
Bottom, only The Corpse's arm is not under his opponent's arm). The Corpse
steps forward with his inside leg, turning to the outside (away from his
opponent--if his right arm was up, he'd be turning to his left) and
maintaining his headlock (stand up and do it...you'll understand). The
Corpse leans forward, resulting in his opponent being laid out,
back-to-back, perpendicularly across The Corpse's back. The Corpse holds
the headlock tightly, wrenching it. This is a sleeper/submission hold.