Bobby Minio

[Vertigolowe]

Owned by: minio

Debut: October 14, 2006

Televised Record: 0 - 2

Height: 5' 11"

Weight: 218 lbs.

Hometown: Las Vegas, NV

Entrance Music: "Revolution" by Distorted Minds

Finishers:
Protest - (X-Factor)
Iron Grip Suplex - (Cobra Clutch Suplex)
Coup d'etat - (Texas Cloverleaf)
Picket Line - (Diamond Dust)
Guillotine Leg Drop - (Rolling Hangover)

Bio:

Minio is a seasoned veteran in the Wrestling circuit. Having wrestled in the PiW and Action! Wrestling alongside (Fantasy) Wrestling legends like Jeff Garvin, the Flying Frenchie, Joey Malone, and LLB, Minio has learned alot about what it takes to be something special.

Originally, Minio was a hardcore division wrestler who did whatever it took to get attention from the fans. However, after realizing that the hardcore stereotype was killing his potential in the business, he looked at the technical legends around him and began to rework his entire playbook. Minio came out the otherside of that era as a technical highflyer, basing more of his arsenal on submissions and variations of suplexes than anything else.

Minio fell out of the business for about three years when an unknown sibling, or as the theory goes, a doppleganger, Frank Minio, began reaching levels of success unseen by Minio in the Asylum Fighting promotion, a no holds barred fighting organization with a history of ring related deaths and other brutal occurances.

Years later, with Wrestling in his blood and his best years still ahead of the young talent, Minio resurfaces on the Indy circuit, fighting his way back to the top.

[Vertigolowe]

Originally posted by: minio

Buffering.

Buffering. 25% complete.

Buffering. 67% complete.

Buffering. 85% complete. Playing.

The screen clicks on, a body is in the foreground, setting something behind the camera. The body leans back, sitting comfortably in his chair, centered infront of the camera. Medium build, dark brown hair falling just above the eyes. An uncertain smile that seems to be more directed as a formality than as an expression of emotion.

This is Bobby Minio. This is the same young man who seemed to have such a promising future on cable television four years ago when he had beaten Overdose in the PIW, launching him into a heated fued between the PIW owner, John Cusimano, and Minio. This is the same young man who staged the PIW walk out to protest Cusimano, the same young man that fell into an insane love triangle involving Johnathon Conspiracy and Angelica Dawson, and the same young man that watched in Action! Wrestling as careers launched around him, as his career fell stagnant.

This is Bobby Minio.

He sits, the camera viewing waist up, he's wearing a dark gray suit jacket over a nact blue t-shirt with the outline of Nevada, and the kitchsy words 'Nevada is for Gamblers' written in white.

He lifts a Redbull from his lap, cracking open the can, taking a huge sip, emptying atleast half of the can. He reaches into his coat, pulling a flask out, spinning the cap off, and pouring it into the mouth of the can. The liquid is clear, common knowledge would hint that it would either be vodka or rum. After he returns the flask to his coat, he guzzles down the Redbull, sighing outloud in refreshment.

"I feel much better now." he exclaims, staring down at his feet while he sets the can down.

"This is my first video blog, I'm new to this. I think I'm also the first member of the ... member..." he stumbles on the word, before catching up to the sentence. "Member... of the VCW roster to do this so, bear with me. If you know who I am, well then, thank god people remember me. If you don't... well my name is Bobby, and I've been wrestling way to long to be forgotten already."

He coughs lightly for a second, following up with his force formal smile, staring dead on towards the camera lens, probably for the first time since the video was done buffering.

"You're probably wondering what I am doing back on the Indy circuit. The fact is, the soap opera level of bullcrap at the major level is enough to make you scream. I went through a lot since I hit the cable TV circuit, so I took a few years off to get my life sorted out. Problem was, I recently came to the conclusion that wrestling IS my life. I was setting up rings when I was fifteen years old, I debuted on my eighteenth birthday. Wrestling... is my life. Soooo... here I am. Soul searching, coming to terms... whatever you want to call it." he trails off, staring past the camera. Not as if there is something behind the camera, but in the sense that a soldier in the military ends up with the thousand yard stare after a tour of duty.

"Well, hopefully, the good Miss Swift will get me in the ring. I can sit here and talk all day, but in the business, the best conversations are carried on physically in the ring, and the long and short of it is, you gotta start somewhere. I need to get back in the ring, and I'll figure the rest out from there." Bobby cracks open another Redbull, taking a long sip to make room for the alcohol in the flask. Rinse and repeat. This ritual looks far to habituary, to the trained eye, this would be a warning sign.

Before finishing the Redbull, Bobby sits forward, reaching behind the camera, and the screen goes blank.