The Fire Pro Wrestling series is cherished by gamers and pro wrestling fans alike as the ultimate simulation of simulated combat. While it lacks the visual panache of officially licensed wrestling games, it comes equipped with robust rosters, a mindbogglingly detailed creation suite, and more match types than you can swing a steel chair at. FPW‘s attention to detail and substance-over-style ethos have garnered it an extremely loyal fanbase. Though the series’ most recent entry, Fire Pro Wrestling Returns, was released in 2007, FPW continues to endure in the hearts and minds of fans to this day.
Me, I suck at FPW. Couldn’t wrestle my way out of a paper bag. But as a wrestling fan and lawyer, FPW offers plenty of other things to entertain me. The wrestling fan in me appreciates FPW’s uncanny ability to simulate the behavior and attributes of real wrestlers; the AI is nothing short of impeccable. Two wrestlers in FPW can have a match that will be frighteningly similar to their real world counterparts.
But perhaps more importantly, there is FPW’s incredibly blatant, barely concealed, and always hilarious theft of the identities of real wrestlers. This stuff really gets my “lawyer brain” going. The sheer brazenness with which Fire Pro Wrestling is willing to outright steal the appearance and attributes of a wrestler whose likeness would have undoubtedly cost thousands of dollars is stultifying.
This, of course, means we should hold a tournament – THE BRIEFCASE CUP. We’re going to put the best of the worst intellectual property violators (and a few wild cards) against one another in a CPU controlled clash of copyright carnage to determine just who is the strongest simulated pretend predetermined fighter in the universe.