SJL Metal (September 5, 2002)

[Guest HVilleThugg]

SJL metal is on, live, and the New York fans seem pretty excited about something. Whatever could it be? Could it be the fantastic wrestling action? Well, it could. Maybe it’s the excitement of possibly being on television for less than a second? No. That’s probably not true. How about the vibrating seats? Wait. This arena has vibrating seats? Oh, no it doesn’t. So what, exactly could have all those people Ah! Now I remember…

 

“WE ARE LIVE HERE IN… uh where are we… oh The Slaughterhouse, New York City! And we are scheduled to hear from - ”

 

“Oooohhhhh Caaannnaaadddaaa!”

 

*BOOM!*

 

“I never get to finish what I say. But anyways here comes the NEW SJL WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION C!…I!…AHhhhh!”

 

And with that proverbial ‘bang’ to start the night, the action of another SJL extravaganza begins, accompanied by that familiar melodious riff that starts off ‘Secret Agent Man’. Well, that, and another boring twenty minute interview. At least the SJL doesn’t start EVERY show that way. Still, as mentioned, the fans don’t seem to mind, cheering with zeal as a figure emerges from underneath the SmarkTron, raising a rather familiar title belt high overhead as he looks out over the cheering arena. For a few moments, the Canadian merely stands, soaking in the cheers of the assembled crowd. Smiling quite brightly, CIA reaches down and straps the belt around his waist, marching towards the ring.

 

Sliding in under the bottom rope, CIA rolls into the center of the ring, and kips up to his feet, drawing another loud cheer from the assembled fans as he spins in a quick circle, louder still as he lifts the front of his jacket, revealing a microphone tucked into the waist of his ring pants, which he quickly recovers, raising it into the air, and tilting his head back for a loud cry. “NEW YORK CIIIITTTYYY!!!!”

 

The arena nearly explodes for he new champ, and CIA chuckles a bit, as he makes his way to one corner of the ring. Leaning back against the ropes, CIA hops into the air a bit, throwing his legs up over the ropes on the other side of the turnbuckle, reclining as though he were in a hammock. Leaning his head back, CIA smiles as his upside down vision spots a fan turning their ‘I <3 CIA sign upside down for him to read. Bringing the microphone back to his lips, still looking back at the crowd, CIA continues, voice booming with happiness. “You know, once again, I find myself in possession of a very precious treasure. The admiration of the best damn fans in the world!” The fans pop again as CIA continues, “Oh, well, that and this beautiful belt I’ve currently got strapped around my waist, eh?”

 

“That crowd whore. He’s thanking the fans… again! He did this same crap the first time he won the belt.”

 

Drawing a slight chuckle from the fans at this, CIA laughs a bit, into the mic, hopping off the ropes and marching towards the center of the ring once again. “I was thinking of going out for a party after my big cage match, folks, but I decided something, eh? I’m a champ because of my fans, and it wouldn’t be right to celebrate without them. And besides, I hear New York City is a REAL party city? Do I hear right?”

 

The fans erupt with cheers, and CIA taps the belt at his waist as the microphone comes up once more. “Hey, I’m going to party, so all you fans just look for this belt, tonight when you’re out on the town, hopefully tossing back a few Canadian beers, eh?” Turning towards the entryway, CIA looks up towards the SmarkTron, watching as two faces fade into existence, that of a seven foot tall god of thunder, and the other of a former champ, and leader of the sWo. The fans seem unsure how to react, but CIA gives them little chance anyway, continuing his little speech. “But hey, there’s a time for partying, and a time for business, eh? You all see their faces up there, and if I didn’t talk about them, there’d be questions later. So let’s talk about them. How about we start with Thor? Yeah, the big man! Seven feet of huge, eh? This man actually lifted me up with one hand and palmed my face like a basketball!”

 

“And now he’s praising Thor… next thing you know he’ll be kissing babies.”

 

“It’s called being a respectable person and a real champion. Maybe you should bloody try it. ZING!”

 

Here, a few fans boo, but CIA waves them down with his hand, chuckling. “Hey, c’mon, folks, he was just trying to win. Besides, I wasn’t good looking before, so he’s not going to do much damage.” A small section of female voices protest this, and CIA laughs, pointing up towards the face of Thor on the screen. “I pinned him on Sunday. After three chair shots and a steel sandwich, eh? Maybe Thor’s a little angry with me. Just maybe, and I wouldn’t blame him. Maybe he wins tonight, and he asks for a shot at my belt? Well, he can have it, if the man in charge thinks he deserves it. I’m not afraid to step into the ring with Thor, and I know he just wants you fans to chant his name. That I can understand, eh. So was what I did last week to Thor wrong? Will he win tonight? And what if he wants a shot at my belt? Let’s see. I’m the champ; I’m not clairvoyant, eh?”

 

CIA looks up at the faces on the screen, and smiles. “But I do know one thing. Thor’s seven feet tall. He’s well over three hundred pounds of muscle. He’s got a lot of winning matches ahead of him, and I certainly don’t want to see that big hand clamping down around my face anymore, oh, no. I wish Thor all the best, but this is MY belt. And there’s no one that’s going to take it away from me. Which brings me to the other guy on the screen. Mak Francis.”

 

The crowd boos here, but the heat in the arena practically explodes as three words replace the image on the SmarkTron.

 

‘Are you ready?’

 

“Speak of the devil…” says Edwin readying himself for some serious bitching.

 

“Finally Mak’s coming out here to stop this Canadian love fest!”

 

‘ARE YOU READY?’

 

 

 

‘CAUSE THE FRANCHISE IS HERE!’

 

Down with the Sickness blares in the back ground but is quickly cut off as Francis signals to the tech crew. Francis brings the microphone in his hand up and gets ready to speak when the New York City fans boo him into oblivion. CIA on the other hand looks up the ramp and smiles. “I was just talking aboot you…” says the Canadian, his accent coming out.

 

Francis looks a little distracted but soon regains his focus as he see the World Title belt around the waist of CIA.

 

“How dare you put my belt around your waist CIA?”

 

“Uh… eh?” quizzically answer CIA

 

“How dare you wear my belt? I held that belt for one month. I dominated this federation for one month beating anybody and everybody. After I dumped you on your head and pinned you for the one two three I got my first World Heavyweight Title belt. Then I proceeded to nearly break Mike Van Siclen’s leg. Knock out Thor after making him take so many Franchise Tag’s that he got a round trip ticket to concussion junction and then got sent back again just for the hell of it.”

 

“HAH, Mak probably made Thor 6’9” after all those FISHAMANSBUSTAHS~!”

 

Francis continues his rant as CIA just looks at him in disbelief. “And you pin Thor in a triple threat match and all of a sudden you think your worthy of that belt. This was my summer. My month! My time dammit!!”

 

“YOU DIDN”T EVEN PIN ME!” Yells the Franchise suddenly irate. “YOU’VE NEVER PINNED ME IN YOUR ENTIRE CAREER!!”

 

“Okay bitch-boy you listen here…” and the crowd suddenly gets behind CIA as he prepares to speak with a “bitch-boy” chant. “…I was gonna talk aboot how I’m a fighting champion and you’re one of the best wrestlers I’ve faced and it would be an honor, etc. but you know what… I think that all of New York City is calling your ass “bitch-boy” and I have to agree… Bitch-boy.”

 

“Good Show CIA!”

 

“What kind of person says “aboot” anyway?”

 

“The kind that beat Mak Francis last week.”

 

Francis looks at the crowd yelling for them to shut up, which only makes them cheer louder. “Okay that’s fine. You guys can make your little comments, but all you little bubble yum popping like gum targets, know that I’m money in the bank.”

 

“Well I guess the bank is closed then eh.” Snaps CIA getting another rise out of the New York.

 

And Francis curses out a few fans before turning back to CIA. “You talked about Thor but I tell you this right now. With no disqualification I won’t let him walk out of the ring without paying for getting pinned by you. By the end of this match, if you think what I did to him last time was bad… you don’t know the half of it! But that’s not important…”

 

Francis paces about the top of the stage and then stops suddenly causing the crowd to quiet. He actually looks rather calm.

 

“That belt you wear around your waist is important. And I think… I think we should have one last run. “The Franchise” versus “The Dream” one last time. It’ll be an epic. It’ll be great. It’ll be me and you one last time. And I want a guarantee that either you’ll pin me or I’ll pin you. No gimmick cage or third man to get pinned. One last bloody hurrah before we move onto to bigger and better things. But we have a little time. So we don’t have to rush unless you’re ready. Are you ready CIA, cause I’m standing right here.”

 

CIA gets ready to brawl with Francis. The crowds hot, CIA’s ready to fight and Mak Francis drops his mic…

 

And walks to the back leaving the crowd along with the World Champion stunned.

 

“What a hot start to Metal. We’ll be right back after this commercial break.”

[Guest HVilleThugg]

(The camera glows back to life after the JL’s cook-book including the famous “Jack the Ripper Piss Ala’ Mode!” ends, revealing the millions of JL-alcoholics screaming out. They’re craving for fifteen seconds of fame overwhelm them and they jump around with their colorful signs, which include, “C.I.A! I’m pregnant!” and the camera reveals a chick on the hefty side. A hot college girl flashes her chest and the network censors it out, causing a wave of groans to every puberty-stricken teenager in the world watching. The camera then settles down to the announcer’s table. Sitting on the far left is the one and only Suicide King, whose eyes are fixed on the portly woman claiming to bare C.I.A’s baby, in the middle is the SWF legend Axis, and on the far right is the man with a very long resume, Edwin MacPhisto).

 

“Apparently C.I.A isn’t too picky…” Suicide King comments disgusted and Axis sends a slap to the back of his head. “Ow.” King replies simply.

 

“Welcome to SJL Metal! Tonight we have quite a card and we first have a newcomer!” Axis exclaims out.

 

“That’d be right my favorite co-announcer,” Edwin begins, “the Irish man, Tim Dillon, will debut against the SJL under-card staple, Cutthroat!”

 

“Can’t wait.” SK says sarcastically.

 

Luckily for King, he doesn’t have to wait as the arena lights black out quickly. The fans realizing the arrival of Cutthroat throws out cheers, and light rhythms of the song (along with some odd electric sound) can be audible. Then one piece of blue pyro comes rocketing down as it slams down against the ramp, causing more pyro to explode off and everywhere. Then random lights in the arena flash white and blue, and a huge clapping sound can be heard steadily through the arena. It then plunges into “Whatever” by Our Lady Peace. Suddenly the camera can spot Cutthroat through the blue-steel tint. The fans explode into cheers and Cutthroat throws out a huge grin.

 

It’s go time. He thinks to himself, and his grin broadens.

 

Funyon announces the opponent to the fans, “The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and now strutting his way to the ring spawned from Greenwich, Connecticut, weighing in at 214 pounds, CUUUTTTHHROAT!” After Funyon’s deep voice is finished vibrating throughout the arena, Cutthroat slaps the last of his fans hands. He then rolls into the ring. Then CT hopped onto the second rope and he bounced up, achieving a thunderous response from the marks.

 

“If Cutthroat nearly always loses, why do the fans cheer for him?” Suicide King points out.

 

“Think of how many shots IL has got… AND still get cheered.” Axis replies simply, causing the fans to ponder upon that.

 

Sudden bagpipe’s blare across the speakers, followed up by a gruff voice. “Face down in the gutter, won’t admit defeat!” The fans all rise from their seats and peer towards the entrance stage to see the newbie debut. Their distracted as cheap, green shamrock shaped confetti falls from random spots in the rafter. As the little kids try to catch it, the opening vocal cords of Dropkick Murphy’s “Barroom Hero” end. As the song goes more in depth, the newbie steps out. Sudden orange and green pyro explodes very close to him. The very fine blonde hair, freckled, average height, Irish man, Tim Dillon, steps onto the stage to a few cheers. His attire includes black t-shirt and the green font that reads, “End the Fighting” on the back; he wears khaki cargo pants with shamrocks on the sides. He also wears black Emerica shoes with shamrocks above toes. He stalks down the ramp in a boxer’s defensive pose, his fists clutched and by his face. He throws out a couple of punches into the air and slaps a little boy’s willing hand. He throws another few punches into the air and his eyes are fixed on his first challenger. Tim reaches mid-ramp and he pauses, waiting for Funyon’s announcement.

 

“Weighing in at a puny 168, hailing from the rainy Limerick, Ireland… TIM DILLLLOOONNN!” Funyon’s booming voice finally dies down when Dillon begins his walking again. He throws a sudden uppercut and then busts into a run down towards ringside. He slides into the ring and stares at CT’s fierce, deep blue eyes, while Dillon returns with calm green eyes.

 

The bell chimes in.

 

Cutthroat and Tim Dillon circle around each other for a bit in center of the ring. Dillon then steps forwards, Cutthroat steps forwards, and the two exchange a handshake. Cutthroat then throws out a punch, and Dillon sidesteps (utilizing his historical boxer skills) and he catches the punch. Cutthroat then sighs as he throws his elbow towards Dillon’s head. He dodges it again and then twists it into a hammerlock. Cutthroat is able to slip out of the hammerlock and the newbie gets placed into a headlock. The Irish man then wraps his arms around Cutthroat’s stomach and he slams CT onto the canvas. He bounces up and releases the hold.

 

“Okay, this is like watching a Junior High fight!” Suicide King complains.

 

Cutthroat scrambles to his feet and the two grapple in center of the ring. Cutthroat shoves Tim off after a bit of a struggle, and he charges forwards hitting a spear. The fans cheer as Dillon slams into the canvas, gasping for air. The Irishman quickly rolls away (preventing any further attack) and springs back to his feet. Cutthroat charges forwards and goes for a clothesline, and he quickly ducks the clothesline, grabbing the arm and hits the arm drag. Tim grabs CT’s darker blonde hair and he pulls him to his feet, and Dillon throws a kick to his gut and follows up with an uppercut. Cutthroat staggers backwards and Dillon steps forward. Tim then lunges forwards into a front headlock and brings Cutthroat down with a snap suplex. Tim makes a quick pin attempt,

 

ONE! Cutthroat kicks out and rolls out of the way from further harm. Tim sighs and stalks over.

 

“Tim is just new to wrestling, therefore I’d have to say CT nabs the win.” Edwin comments thoughtfully.

 

“Right, but how the hell is CT supposed to beat a bare knuckle boxer?” King asks trying to irk Edwin more than act all heel.

 

Tim and Cutthroat collide into another grapple, Cutthroat a bit thrown off from the snap suplex, yet makes up for it as he nabs the advantage. He quickly throws a knee to Tim’s gut and follows through with a quick snap DDT. Cutthroat quickly brings up the rattled Irish man and he shoves him into the ropes. As he returns CT throws out a dropkick (making Axis comment on how much it resembles Maven’s from the WWE). As the newbie slams against the canvas, bouncing into the air, Cutthroat runs into the ropes. He follows through, as he nearly reaches the green newbie, with diving into a roll and he gets back to his feet Sentoning! However, he gets unlucky (though against the Irish, most do seem unlucky) and he gets a nice taste of mat. As Dillon had rolled out of the way he crawled over to CT, regaining his breath, and he grabs the back of the fan’s favorite head. He then proceeds to slam it repeatedly against the cold canvas and after the third time the ref beckons him off. Tim shoots up, letting his temper carrying him to threaten the ref, “You want to taste the back of my hand lad?” Meanwhile, Cutthroat slides on his back out of the ring in retreat. He crumples by the guardrail, as many fans slap the superstar, and he tries to regain his composure. Tim finally whirls around to see his foe on the outside; he dives onto his stomach as he slides out onto the mat. Dillon then ignores the ref’s hollering, and he delivers an elbow to the back of his neck. Cutthroat falls to his knees, and Tim pulls him up. Cutthroat then slips out of Tim’s grasp and he grabs the top of his hair and he throws him towards the steel steps towards the announcer’s table and Funyon (sitting comfortable on a steel chair). Tim slams into the steps hard and as the stairs slam out of place Funyon leaps up in retreat. Cutthroat desperate to win the match stalks forwards and grabs the chair folding it up. Dillon watches CT raise the steel, lethal chair in the air as the fans holler their approval. He slowly nods to the fans, and Tim regulates his breath hearing the ref’s plead.

 

 

THREE! Cutthroat raises the chair in the air and is ready to slam it down.

 

“Oh come on CT!” Axis pleads.

 

FOUR! Cutthroat throws a look at Axis and Tim takes the available chance as he throws a punch to his gut. As Cutthroat doubles over Tim throws his knee up, hitting the chair as it slams into Cutthroat’s face. Dillon suddenly regrets his quick thinking as the pain begins to spread through his body. Tim then picks up Cutthroat and he gives him a light toss over to the announcer’s table, and Tim’s opponent raises his head slightly revealing his skin irrupted open, and crimson blood flows down the right side of his head. Axis shivers and Cutthroat is suddenly attacked with an axe handle to the back of neck by his foe. As the count hits six, Dillon rolls the battered CT into the ring. He then lays on him, hooking the leg. Unaware to the fact that CT’s shoe is laying comfortable on the bottom rope; Dillon lies there in confusion. The official makes the fact aware and Tim swears out-lout. He grabs CT’s left leg and begins to drag him to the center of the ring (with some strain) but gets Cutthroat’s right foot into his face. As Dillon slams onto the mat, Cutthroat pins him like the end result of a sunset flip. He kicks out before the ref can even drop to the mat, and Tim throws his weight forward. He fails his attempt at a reversal and he then tries harder. As he hits the reversal (sliding his legs away and on top of CT’s shoulders) as he creates the same pin he was just forced into. The ref drops to his gut,

 

ONE! “Hey! The newbie may pick up the win!” Axis says, somewhat gleefully.

TWO! Cutthroat then kicks out as the hand rises into the air. As Tim gives up the hold he stands up conversing to the ref calming it was a slow count. The referee gives him a warning and Tim yells out, and spit flings in his face. As the ref wipes it off turning his head CT hits a quick low blow getting the advantage.

 

Tim’s rival then hits a hard front headlock and he brings Dillon over in a harsh snap suplex. Cutthroat picks the Irishman up and slowly considers his moves, as Dillon is dazed. He lets go of the grapple and clutches his fist getting a huge crowd reaction. The fans all see him ready for his famous move, the Razor punch! Cutthroat throws his fist up with all his might and Dillon (oh so simply) dodges it and he wraps it into a hammerlock as he fluently changes it into reverse a DDT. Cutthroat’s scrambled mind makes him immobile for a few seconds. Tim Dillon glances down and looks up as he throws out both arms to the fans. He then crosses his arms on top of the other and he suddenly busts into an Irish jig! Fans spit out whatever inhabits their mouth in laughter and a huge pop echoes for Dillon’s smooth moves. As he goes for the ending Cutthroat grabs his ankle and trips him down. Tim’s face flushes a deep red and the arena goes silent for a bit. He springs back to his feet, beating Cutthroat to his feet. He suddenly screams at CT, “Is that all you’ve got, you’ve puny lad? Oi, you’ll never feel as much pain as you will now!” Tim finishes his threat and he throws a wicked right hook to Cutthroat’s jaw. After CT reels backwards Dillon throws two jabs to his stomach, he pauses regaining his breath and strength. Cutthroat takes the advantage as he hits the Razor Punch.

 

“Once again this match collapses into nothing more than a Junior High brawl…” King sneers.

 

“Dillon was a freaking’ bare knuckle boxing legend!” Axis points out.

 

“Whoop-de-do!” King shouts out as he begins to count his accomplishments in his head.

 

As Dillon reels backwards a good foot from the punch he gingerly rubs his jaw and his temper raises even more. “That IS all you’ve got!” Tim challenges, causing Cutthroat to lunge forwards, completing Tim’s trap. Dillon throws out another right hook and sends Cutthroat stumbling back. Tim smirks, and he takes the chance to hit a quick Irish jig piece and he throws his hand up like he’s doing a stroke in swimming. The end result is he clawing at CT’s cut that becomes a gash. More blood flows (over-lapping the nearly crusted) down his face. Tim then lunges forwards hitting a quick grapple. He shoves his opponent off and leaps into the air, wrapping his legs around CT’s throat and he goes for the pull of a hurricarana. Being new to wrestling, he pauses before pulling as Cutthroat drops him down into a powerbomb. The tough-as-nails Irish man even moans in pain as the back of his neck and shoulder blades are crushed against the mat. He lies there motionless and Cutthroat throws an arm in the air, signaling victory. He goes for the pin,

 

ONE! The Irishman is lifeless.

 

 

 

 

TWO! A sudden, unexpected “GUIN-ESS!” chant breaks out.

 

 

 

THREE! “Wait, no!” Axis cries out as he nearly jumps out of his seat when the unknown ref’s fingers hold up two.

 

Cutthroat’s face twists into absolute confusion and he sputters at the ref. He wipes the back of his hand against his crimson mask, smearing the blood. He slowly rises to his feet and hears the fans cheer. He whirls around to see the Irishman staggering on his feet with a content grin on his face. As bagpipe brilliantly blare in the Irish’s man head CT sighs out loud.

 

“He thinks he’s better than Tim!” Axis shrieks out.

 

“It’s been an even fight to me…” Edwin adds.

 

Meanwhile, the two collide into another grapple. Tim using his reversed energy struggles against CT’s offensive attempt. Cutthroat manages to whip Dillon into the ropes, and as he rockets back he hops over him in leapfrog. Dillon returns once again, but he slides under Cutthroat. He pops back up to his feet only to be caught by a kick to the gut. He then gets Tim locked in a stunner position. As he drops Dillon’s head slides out of the hold while Cutthroat lands on his rear end in agony. Dillon smiles and he ducks down grabbing the chin of Cutthroat, “Don’t fuck with me laddie.” He adds in and he is soon bombarded by a kick to his nose. As some blood begins to flow down his left nostril the knuckle boxer grins. His body is sent reeling back a few feet and he gets caught into the ropes. As Cutthroat stands up and stalks over, content smug on his face. Cutthroat then grabs him by his fine, white hair. He tosses him into the center of the ring as Cutthroat hops onto the top turnbuckle. As he sits there, perched on the turnbuckle the fans begin to cheer.

 

“He wouldn’t bust out the Razor Knee, would he?” Axis asks, more in a pleading tone.

 

Cutthroat smiles and points over to Axis (causing a groan from the Aussie) and he stands up. He bends his knees and the fans still interested in the match fumble for their camera. But to their disappointment, Tim shakes the ropes causing Cutthroat to land on his family jewels. CT stands right back up and he leaps into the air hitting a missile dropkick on the Irishman.

 

”Whoa, wait… did CT just no-sell that nut shot? With no tears, no nothing?” Edwin asks.

 

A silence falls across the ring.

 

Cutthroat gets a confused look on his face and he shrugs it off. He then proceeds to pin his foe,

 

ONE! “This is it!” Axis proclaims.

 

 

 

TWO! “Told you Cutthroat would win!” Edwin insists.

 

 

THREE! Silence, and then a mixed reaction plague the arena as the ref shoots two fingers into the air! Tim’s shoulder remains in the air and he sighs in relief. Cutthroat stands up in a fit of rage and he screams out.

 

Tim Dillon grabs the ropes, stabilizing himself, and he pulls himself back to his feet. Being knocked rather silly Dillon stumbles over and throws a weak punch into the back of his head. Cutthroat suddenly whirls around with a grin. He then throws his knee, and Tim catches it. He then pulls it in and captures him into a capture suplex. Tim then throws him over sloppily. Cutthroat lands on his back as he wheezes for air. Dillon’s body degenerated causes him to fall to one knee. His head slowly rises to meet with CT’s bloody face across the ring. The two stand up in sync with each other. They soon break into a charge across the ring and Tim screams out a battle cry. As the two draw near each other, Cutthroat throws his knee in the air, paralyzing Tim for a split second. That’s all the time Cutthroat needs as he jumps up into the air…

 

“TWIZTER!” Axis screams out.

 

He throws in a headlock and as he goes for the spin, but Tim slips out of the hold. Facing behind Cutthroat he quickly throws his arm across CT’s throat and sends his back arching down. Tim smirks and he grabs a handful of CT’s tiger striped pants. He then raises him to the point of being horizontal and Tim drops to his back hitting his finisher! CT’s down and out cold as a loud pop emerges.

 

“Blood and Whiskey!” Edwin says chuckling.

 

The pin!

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

The bell chimes in. The fans cheer.

 

“Winner of this bout… TIM DILLOON!” Funyon’s voice concludes as the screen fades to black.

[Guest HVilleThugg]

Axis : "Well, it looks like it's time for our break. Yaaaaaawwn... why does it feel like my head was pissed on by 5 punks in the crowd?"

 

JL Stagecrew : "I think that was because your head was pissed on by 5 punks in the crowd. They were trying to nail two fat obese women dancing in front of them, but they misfired when the two sat down to make out."

 

Axis : "..."

 

King : "And your hair's still dripping wet. Kahahaha!!!"

 

Axis : "...I just got five million richer. Get their names, damnit! I'm suing."

 

King : "Oww... my farkin' arse is sore from sitting so looooong!"

 

Edwin : "Yeah, bitch bitch bitch. While you two lazy loonies are sitting and complaining about the uncomftorableness of your arms, rears, crotches, whatever, I will be backstage doing some inhumane ritual called 'work'."

 

Funyon gets on the microphone :

 

*** "I hope you have all enjoyed our show so far, the night is NOT over and there is so much more to come! Our first of two 15 minute intermissions is now beginning, so please visit all of our concession stands in the corridors behind you! Thank you all for experiencing the SWF/JL live action!" ***

 

Edwin : "Well I'm off, children! Come again, I shall..."

 

Thus, Edwin walks up the ramp and disappears backstage, to attend to paperwork in his office. Axis and King sit quietly at their announce table, bored to everlasting death.

 

 

 

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Guitar string-scratching, buzzing sounds resonate from the SmarkTron speakers, while only a small thirty percent of the crowd is still filling the seats. The strange buzzing noises signal the start of Rage Against the Machine's "Ashes in the Fall"... the enraged cries of the former New Sound. Out steps a member of the SWO, walking towards the ring at a furious pace, but with an estatic look of victory on his face.

 

King : "...whuh...?"

 

Axis : "King, wake up... it's Matt Myers! What is he doing down here!?"

 

King : "...muaraphlugana... you woookeee me up for thaaaat..."

 

Axis : "..."

 

King : "Oh fine, I'll pay attention! Don't know why you would care so much 'bout some big ass stable's lackey!"

 

The "Brother Red", Matt Myers, stands now in the middle of the squared circle. As the thousands of ignorant city people in the audience boo to their heart's content, the SWO's leading cruiserweight and longtime operative raises his hand to reveal a piece of white, very clean and professional-looking paper in his hand.

 

Maybe, uh... a contract?

 

King : "So Matt's holding some official document. It's Cutthroat's contract, I bet!"

 

Still, the people of New York mindlessly boo like tools... until Matt positions his microphone under his mouth and shouts out :

 

Myers : "FUCK OFF YOU MORONS, I CAN'T HEAR MYSELF THINK WITH YOUR SHEEPISH JEERING!"

 

And the booing gets louder.

 

Myers : "Wow... I guess you people do a lot of things out of balls-out spite. Maybe I better not kill myself soon so you'll all commit suicide! Then I'd save the food I ate at the diner from listening to your goddamn stupid jeering!"

 

The crowd slowly shuts itself off, but some people will not be silenced and sustain the heat.

 

Myers : "Even though you ignorant marks don't even deserve to be involved in official SJL business... in the SLIGHTEST... I have a very important announcement for all of you in this arena! Especially, to that incompetent fool, Commissioner MacPhisto! I assume that you are all wondering what this lovely packet of shredded trees are in my left hand..."

 

Before finishing that statement, Myers slides under the bottom rope and drags out, from underneath the ring, a round tank with a protuberance for some sort of blasting.

 

Myers : "...and this blowtorch on my right..."

 

Axis : "Huh? What the fuck is he doin-"

 

King : "HE'S GOING TO BURN THAT DOCUMENT, LIKE HE DID WITH... WITH... nah, it's not possible."

 

Axis : "I don't care, I'm getting in contact with Edwin on the phone right now!"

 

 

*BRRRRIIIINNG BRRRRRIIIIINNG!!!!!"

 

Edwin : "Hello, this is the commissioner's office! What do you wan-"

 

"This is Axis! Edwin, turn on your TV set!"

 

"WHAT FOR!?"

 

"Something's going on with Matt Myers in the ring... he's burning another document!"

 

"Oh scheiss, oh scheiss, oh scheiss, oh holy Scheisskase!" Edwin turns on the office TV.

 

Myers : "Hey, Edwin! I can see Axis calling you on the phone... now that I know you are watching me from your little office right now, I want you to view this little clip from the last Wrath. This should, *ahem*, refresh you and everyone else's memories..."

 

Fugue: "It seems that’s already happened, dear Commissioner. You see, you don’t have Flexxx’s suspension papers anymore, therefore, you have no legal means by which to keep him from competing."

 

Edwin: "Ah, young apprentice, that’s where you’re wrong. You left a pretty big chunk of evidence when you sent me the tape of you burning the document."

 

Fugue: "Did you see anywhere on those papers where it said ‘Suspension Notice’ or ‘SJL Superstar Fletcher Callaway’?"

Edwin: "...no."

Fugue: "Well, then you can’t prove we did burn them."

Edwin: "Then how can you tell me that Flexxx is back in the league?"

Fugue: "............"

 

 

Myers : "But, as you can see Edwin, this packet of paper right here on the front, has the Flunkmasta's name on it!" (Myers taps his thumb on the fine print) "Hmm, that is pretty weird, don't you think people? This would prove that we didn't actually burn Flexxx's suspension documents last week in the first place, and I didn't have them on hand until recently!"

 

Edwin : "...please don't tell me..."

 

Myers : "UNLESS, the documents that we stole from your folder the last time were not the real documents! But how could that be? Well, we DID have Mr. Calloway's name on those papers, didn't we?"

 

 

 

"...Then why is there a 'Mr. Williams' printed on this one then!?"

 

"DO YOU SELL US FOR BEING HORSE'S ASSES!? NOT IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE WOULD THE S-W-O EVER BE TRICKED INTO THINKING A WRESTLER'S CONTRACT IS SIGNED WITH HIS WRESTLING NAME! HAHAHAHAHAHA, WHAT AN ASS YOU ARE!!!"

 

 

 

"That's right. We had both your fake document and the real one from the start! We're not as incompetent as you think, Sir MacPhisto! Look in your folder and your files, after looking at the fine print on this TV camera... and there, you have that godforsaken visual proof which you wanted so badly. Now, my silly drones, watch me burn this stupid waste of trees to ashes with this huge blowtorch, perfect for the occasion!"

 

 

 

...Matt takes the padding off of a turnbuckle belt, places the document packet over the front metal piece, and places his hand on the blowtorch's switch!

 

"HELL-O, FLUNKMASTA!!!"

 

A huge ball of fire engulfs the half inch-thick papers...

 

 

 

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

 

 

 

...and it all disintegrates into fine ash, as if a man's very soul was released from an ancient seal...

 

 

 

 

 

 

...the crowd looks in awe, and Edwin simply shakes his head downward with a grimace of demise...

 

"Now, look there Edwin! LOOK AT THAT FINELY BURNT PIECE OF SHIT YOU TYPED UP! It's all goooone... gone to fiery trashbin hell! No matter what you try and do to divide up our power, Commissioner, resistance to the Smarks World Order is FUTILE! We get what we want, and we get it before you can even make a breath! Rest assured, Edwin... you stupid New Yorkers... and everyone else that is watching... FLEXXX WILL BE HERE TONIGHT, IN THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE!!!"

 

Axis : "What in the-"

 

"And never... ever... try and stomp out the New Order."

 

"EVER"

 

Matt sets down the microphone, and without any music to lead him on without the curious noise of all the fans in their seats, he exits the ring and heads on back to the SWO. In his office, Edwin pounds the desk in vain anger.

 

Edwin : "Great... one more cancer to deal with..."

[Guest HVilleThugg]

“PARTY HARD! PARTY HARD! PARTY HARD! PARTY HARDDDDD!”

 

The crowd finishes up singing the last few lines of Andrew W.K.’s “Party Hard”, and begins to go wild with anticipation for the carnage to come on SJL Metal! The camera pans as it usually does on every show across the capacity crowd stuffed into The Slaughterhouse in New York, showing some of the fanatics dressed up as C.I.A., Thor, Mak, Fugue, and a large group of people in Leon Sharpe shirts. We cut to the familiar trio at the announcer’s table.

 

“Welcome back to SJL Metal! We’ve just been through the debut match of Tim Dillon against Cutthroat, truly a fantastic match beyond compare.” Axis tells the viewing audience.

 

“Axis, really, can it really be a fantastic match beyond compare if Cutthroat is even remotely involved?” King asks.

 

Axis sighs and shakes his head. “But at least Dillon did some great wrestling.” Axis mentions.

 

“Eh, it was okay. Anyways, this next match should be good. Two up and coming stars who look like my type of guys.”

 

Edwin, after signing a couple autographs for the people behind him, comes back. “Yes, we have Blank, a risk-taking newcomer, and Judge Mental, a veteran technical mat worker, facing off.”

 

King nods. “The only thing in common with these to is that they are so talented that Edwin is already holding them down.”

 

“WHAT? Mental’s brand-new and Blank has only been here a week! I can’t hold them down yet!”

 

“Yet? So you were in fact thinking about holding them down, correct?”

 

“No, I mean I just haven’t had enough time to-”

 

“How would you know how much time it takes to hold someone down, Edwin? Maybe because you have lots of practice with Mak and the gang, right?”

 

“I haven’t held anyone down, King, so-”

 

“Why, ‘cause you’re not smart enough?”

 

“No, King, I’m smart enough, but-”

 

“So you ARE capable of holding people down.”

 

“Yes, but-”

 

“No more questions.”

 

“Damnit King, I’m not on trial h-”

 

Edwin is interrupted by the loud electric guitar riffs of “Stick ‘em Up” by Quarashi signals the entrance of the first wrestler. From the top of the entrance ramp comes Blank racing out like a high-powered bullet. He swerves over to the railing, ollie’s up, and does a grind along it for a couple feet before coming down and doing a quick kick flip. Some skater fanatics cheer, but the overwhelming majority of the people make their voices heard with a storm of boos. It’s especially loud in the Leon Sharpe section, which happens to be right next to the entrance ramp. Some Styrofoam cups fly at Blank from this section, but he deftly maneuvers around them without even thinking. “Our first wrestler, weighing in at 190 lbs, BLANK!” He stops right in front of the ring, kicks his board up into his hand, and steps in. He confidently strides to the beat of the song to his corner, where he pulls out a pair of black gloves and puts them on.

 

“Well, our first wrestler has arrived in rather flamboyant fashion.” Axis states.

 

“It’s the ONLY real way to enter, Axis.” Edwin says smiling.

 

After a few seconds, the lights dim down, with only a red light covering the arena. “NOW TESTIFY” is screamed over the PA system as flaming pyros come out in front of the entrance ramp, showing the silhouette of the second man. “Testify” by Rage Against the Machine continues on in mid-song as the pyros die, the lights come back up, and Judge Mental begins walking down the ramp in his black judicial robes. “Our second competitor, weighing in at 266 lbs, Judge… MENTALL!!!” He also gets some boos, but not as many as Blank got. He ignores the crowd as he gets to the ring and walks to his corner.

 

“Ya know I didn’t like this guy when I first met him, but after that little dark match, I think I he’s beginning to grow on me.” Says King.

 

“Yes, I’m sure he’ll find great company with the funguses and molds also growing on you.” Edwin zings.

 

Mental begins taking off his judicial robes, but just as he finishes…

 

 

THWACK!

 

 

Blank nails him square in his back with his skateboard!

 

“An underhanded blow by Blank, but since the match hasn’t started yet, he can’t be DQed!” Axis announces.

 

“Ah, an excellent choice in tactics. Cheating right in front of the ref and the ref can’t do a thing because the bell hasn’t rung. Obviously he is a fan of my work.” King says with pride.

 

The ref quickly signals for the ring bell as Blank winds up to hit the reeling Mental again.

 

*DING DING DING*

 

Blank tries to hit him again, but Mental catches the skateboard and pulls Blank in with it for a hard right Elbow that knocks Blank down. Before Mental can even begin working on a body part, Blank jumps to his feet from the ground and takes up a martial arts stance. Mental warily comes closer, and is met with a flurry of shoetei. Blank hits Mental in the chest a few times, followed by an open-palm hit to the right cheek and finishes off with roundhouse. Mental staggers back against the ropes, but quickly recovers his wits. He walks again at Blank, who throws another shoetei aimed at the Judge’s head but never connects. The Judge catches Blank’s arm and pulls him like before, but this time picks him up across his body and spins down to the mat for a scoop slam.

 

“Nice show of offensive skill from the youngster, but Judge Mental quickly comes back with some moves of his own.” Axis calls.

 

“Ya know what would improve Blank’s fighting style,” Edwin says, “Is some pelvic thrusting during those shoetei.” Edwin stands up and does a little demonstration as both Axis and King look the other way.

 

“I thought those things were optional…” regrets King.

 

“Yes, but nothing is optional to the true showman.” Edwin points out as he sits back down.

 

Mental and Blank both stand up, and Mental reaches out and grabs Blank’s arm and whips him at the ropes, following him with an arm ready for a clothesline. Blank jumps onto the ropes and catapults himself at Mental, nailing the veteran with a spinning back kick! Mental flies to the ground and lands next to the ropes as Blank begins to get up. The suicidal skater gets onto Mental and puts his arm around Mental’s head as he locks in the Red Dragon Sleeper Hold!

 

“Blank turns the tide against Mental and has now locked in his submission finishing move! This match may be over quicker than we originally thought.” Axis states.

 

“I wouldn’t say that right yet, Axis,” Interjects Edwin, “It looks to me as if the rookie has already made a tactical mistake.”

 

Edwin is correct, because just as Blank locks the sleeper hold in Mental’s right hand bolts out and grabs the nearby ropes. The ref begins the five count as Blank realizes his mistake and tightens the sleeper hold.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

FIVE!

 

The ref signals for Blank to break the hold, but Blank gives him a confused look and cups his ear at him, acting as if he can’t hear what he is saying.

 

“Blank is playing dumb so he can keep that sleeper hold on longer than he really should!” Axis says, disgusted with the choice in tactics.

 

In contrast, King beams with pride. “Ah, Heel trick #1534. I haven’t seen that one in a while. Good to see the kid does his reading.”

 

“What do you mean reading? Are you saying that every heel gets a manual on cheating?”

 

“Yeah, I send them out to each new heel wrestler. It has all 2742 of my dirty tricks. Gotta reach these kids early or they’ll never get any of the advanced stuff down.”

 

The ref yells his command in Blank’s ear, causing Blank to give a look of sudden comprehension, point to the hold and say “Oh, you want me to RELEASE the hold!” He slowly nods his head yes, all the while buying time for the sleeper to take effect, and finally let’s the Judge go. Mental rolls away from Blank gasping for air and grabbing his neck in pain. Blank jumps to his feet again and brings the crawling Mental to his feet as well. Blank gets him ready and bounces off the ropes and jumps on to Mental’s shoulders as if for a hurricanrana but doesn’t complete it. Instead he cocks his arm back for a punch, but is plastered into the mat as the Judge turns it into a Sit-out Powerbomb! The ref dives to the mat and gives the first count of the night.

 

ONE!

 

 

TW- NO as Blank kicks out strong.

 

“Nice reversal by Mental, getting the first pin of the night, but Blank shows he’s still alive.” Axis tells the at-home audience.

 

Blank begins to stand up off the mat, but Mental gets up quicker and gives Blank a stiff kick to the back. Blank bends his back in pain as Mental gives him another swift kick. Blank falls to a sitting position as Mental grabs the suicidal skater’s arms. The Judge pulls them back hard and jams his knee into Blank’s back for the Surfboard Stretch. Blank cries out in pain as the larger man drives his knee into his back. Blank struggles to get free, but this only prompts Mental to pull harder.

 

“Mental catches Blank in a Surfboard Stretch! Mental’s grip is too strong to break out of, so Blank’s only hope is to reach for the ropes.”

 

Blank inches his foot as close as he can to the ropes, but finds them to be just out of reach. He strains, trying to reach his foot to the rope…. But just can’t get to it!

 

“Blank just can’t reach it! This is over!” Shouts Axis.

 

Then, something unexpected happens.

 

 

 

 

Mental grins….

 

 

 

 

AND LET’S BLANK GO!

 

 

The crowd roars approval for the match to continue as Blank pushes away from Mental holding his back in pain. The announcing table is stunned as Mental gave up a sure win by releasing the hold.

 

“Mental broke the hold! Amazing, he’s that confident in the win that he actually broke the submission!” Axis yells over the crowd.

 

“I just lost all respect for the man.” Comments an angry King.

 

“So Mental loses nothing of value with that last stunt.” Quips in Edwin.

 

Mental waits with his arms folded for Blank as the young man begins to slowly get up. Blank begins to climb up the ropes slowly, and Mental begins to get impatient. He walks over, and is just about to grab Blank, but the skater gives him a mule kick right into the stomach! Blank gets up quickly now, showing that he was just playing possum for Mental. He grabs Mental from behind, taking his neck and cracking it down on his shoulder for a neckbreaker. Mental writhes on the ground clutching his neck in pain, trying to crawl away.

 

“Obviously Mental’s gamble didn’t work as well as he thought it would.” Axis states.

 

“Why the hell did he do that? Mental, are you ****in’ mental!?” quips King.

 

Blank looks down on Mental, just like Mental did only a few minutes ago, and waits for him to get up. Mental slowly climbs to his feet facing Blank, still with his hands on his neck after the strain of the Dragon Sleeper and the impact of the neckbreaker. Blank gives a quick smirk, and runs at the ropes behind Mental. Blank springboards off them, landing on Mental’s shoulders and using the forward momentum to do a victory roll! The ref hits the ground and begins the count.

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

T-NO! Mental flips forward, pinning Blank!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

T-NO! BLANK KICKS OUT!

 

Both men get up quickly, and Mental starts the on the offensive again by giving Blank a jab to the stomach. Blank keels over, and Mental puts his head between his legs. Grabbing the smaller man around the waist, Mental brings him up and hits him with a big Powerbomb. Blank hits the ground hard; clutching his back in pain from the beating it has been taking in this match. Mental picks him up slowly, and oddly enough farther back then he normally would be; he’s using his full arm length to distance himself back and to the right of Blank. Blank suddenly hits Mental’s hand off him, takes a quick breath, and turns to…

 

“He going to uses the Red Mist! But if the ref sees him use it he gets DQed!” Axis yells.

 

“Does it matter? He’s going to still lay Mental out afterwards. Remember, it doesn’t matter if you win or DQ, it’s how you cause the pain.” King says in sage-like fashion.

 

Take a Boot to the face! In a lightning quick motion, Mental turns away as Blank brushes his hand off him and Superkicks him right in the jaw. Blank chokes for a moment on the red mist after Mental’s kick forced it down the wrong tube. Mental chuckles, then breaks into sardonic laughter at the newcomer’s situation.

 

“Mental goaded him into using it! He wanted Blank to go for it so he could embarrass him like this!” Axis says, first to put the pieces together. “He wanted Blank to become desperate enough to use it, just like in the Sharpe match.”

 

“Mental has now regained my respect.” Says King.

 

Edwin looks at King with a smirk and says, “And just like Turkish money, it has no worth at all.”

 

Blank tries to regain his composure, but the red mist is still causing him to take deep, painful breaths. Mental slowly walks over picks him up and whips him to the ropes. Blank bounces back, and Mental swings with a powerful clothesline…. That misses completely! Mental nearly falls over with the momentum of the clothesline as Blank hits the other side and comes back, grabs the back of Mental’s head, and jumps up to hit a mid-air jawbreaker! Mental rolls around on the ground in pain as Blank walks over to a turnbuckle, still suffering the ill-effects of inhaling the red mist into his lungs.

 

“Blank uses his speed to duck the clothesline and do a hard-hitting mid-air jawbreaker, but he still can’t follow up on it because of the red mist.”

 

Mental gets up after a few moments, and walks over to the turnbuckle where an unaware Blank is. Blank is still trying to correct his breathing, even after the jawbreaker. Mental grabs Blank around the waist, and before Blank knows what is going on he is planted into the ground with a German Suplex. Mental gets up quickly, not giving the sickly Blank any time to react, and stands him up. Mental puts him in Powerbomb position like before, and flips him up readying for the drop. Suddenly Blank springs to life, slapping Mental’s hands off him. He sits on Mental’s shoulders in hurricanrana position and begins punching away. 1… 2… 3… 4… 5… before he stops, whips back and completes the hurricanrana. He grimaces a little because of the strain on his injured back it took for the hurricanrana, but he finds enough strength to hook Mental’s legs under his arms for the pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THRE-NO! Mental kicks out at the last moment!

 

“Mental dominates for a moment only to have Blank to come back with a hurricanrana, bad back and all.”

 

Mental slowly gets up, as does the injured Blank. The younger man reaches his feet first and tries to do a shoetei against Mental, but Mental grabs the hand and pulls Blank into a headlock, and puts him down into the mat with a quick DDT. Mental capitalizes on the opportunity by dragging Blank into the middle of the ring and picks his legs up to start a high angle Boston Crab. Blank struggles to not turn over, but the stronger Mental turns him over and pulls his legs back hard while standing over Blank. Blank tries to escape, reaching for the ropes, but Mental made sure to drag him right to the center. Mental bends back even further, putting even more pressure on the injured back of Blank, a sadistic smile coming over his face. Blank howls, trying hang in there. Out of options and the pain of his back becoming more and more immense by the second, Blank finally does it.

 

TAP TAP TAP!

 

Blank hits the mat with his hand like there is no tomorrow, realizing that one match isn’t worth a serious back injury that could plague him his whole career. The ref signals for the bell and asks Judge Mental to stop.

 

*DING DING DING*

 

“The winner, by submission, Judge… MENTAL!”

 

The bell rings, but Blank continues to yell in pain as Mental continues the hold!

 

“Mental is refusing to break! Doesn’t he know that he’s won already?” Axis cries.

 

“Now this is MY type of wrestling. Indulge yourself, old man!” yells King, cheering Mental’s cruel behavior.

 

”Normally I don’t condone this sort of action, but Blank is getting what was coming to him. He didn’t stop when Sharpe went down. He didn’t stop when Kamikaze fell. Maybe Mental is trying to teach him a lesson.” Edwin says, shaking his head in disappointment at the actions of both men.

 

Mental pulls back as hard as he can, reveling in Blank’s cries for assistance from the refs, who don’t want to go near the 6’6” man. Mental continues to pull for a couple moments, seemingly looking as if he going to actually break Blank’s back… but he lets go. Blank clutches his back in staggering agony, lying on his stomach. Mental calmly walks over with a confident smirk, picks his head up by the hair and says something to him. Blank nods, and Mental slams Blank’s head into the mat in one quick wrist motion. Mental grabs his robe and walks out to “Testify”, leaving a stunned crowd and ailing Blank in the ring.

 

“Wow… Mental shows he means business to the rookie Blank with brutality to win the match.” Axis says, still staring at the injured Blank. “Stay tuned after these commercials for more action on SJL Metal!”

 

Fade to commercial…

[Guest HVilleThugg]

Axis : "Welcome back to SJL Metal, folks! We are just moments away from a Hardcore Match featuring the new but experienced Leon Sharpe, against returning vet Jack the Ripper."

 

Edwin : "Mwahaha, this will be delightfully flesh-scraping fun. What a match I have booked here for Jack, who asked for the very kind of combat that is his specialty!"

 

Axis : "I think this will be quite uphill for the Judge, but he can't be discounted. Still, there IS one description we can make for sure : the London Ripper WILL draw blood!"

 

King : "And I'll draw blood if you two dolts keep on talking about that stupid English rapist... *sigh* this is how the JL is being run!"

 

Edwin : "Oh, you think you can do better, Mr. WF Deputy commish? Why don't YOU keep those whiny SWO bitches in check and control all the chaos down here?"

 

King : "Because we'd rather have the WF Champion down in developmental hell and torture his obnoxious ass! Hah, sucks to be you!"

 

Axis : "...kill me... now..."

 

Edwin : "Like I said... if you're so damn good, why aren't YOU doing it!? That wasn't an answer, King!"

 

King : "'Cause I have too much class to be burdened with a farm league!"

 

Edwin : "That much class for a pompous ass?"

 

King : "Why you cocky British punk, I will fucking-"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...Suddenly, the arena lights dim to a fainter illumination, and the fans instinctively burst into a rising pop...

 

Axis : "THANK YOU OH LORD OF ALL THAT'S GREEN AND BROWN!!!"

 

The music takes a while to come on though, as it seems that the tech crew is having some minor delays. That is, until a strange buzzing sound eminates from the SmarkTron speakers, which continues into the darkened, angst-ridden cry that is "Born As Ghosts" by Rage Against the Machine. With the arena lights pulsating a deep red mood, a man with an elongated object in his hand walks out from the curtains and the music gets much, much harder with Zach de la Rocha's enraged voice :

 

"BORN AS GHOSTS!!!"

"A WARNING... TO SUFFERERS... WHO GET TO SPEAK OUR WORD!"

"BORN AS GHOSTS!!!"

"A WARNING... TO SUFFERERS... WHO GET TO SPEAK OUR WORD!"

"BORN AS GHOSTS!!!"

 

The man on the entrance ramp, in the red light, raises his arms into the air and then stomps a boot on the ground, causing the release of shooting gold pyro!

 

*BOOM!*

*BOOM!*

*BANG!*

 

The object in the man's hands is a kendo stick, which is now twirling around in his hands as he walks a path down to the ring. As Edwin stares into the man's eyes and the frozen look is returned back at him, the JL commissioner clenches a fist and swears under his breath...

 

"...Oh look, here's Cockboy again. And his stupid incompetent face is showing itself on my fine show. Again."

 

Axis : "The Flunkmasta Flexxx was in town for his unsuspension!"

 

Edwin : "Go... figure... Heh. Heh. Heh."

 

The song continues as Flexxx mounts a turnbuckle and raises his arms in the air to an unexpecting crowd. With a microphone in one hand, all of the JL staff, the Smarks World Order, and Commissioner MacPhisto are, for varied reasons, anxiously awaiting a statement from one of the wrestlers that caused the SWO to form. Dirty looks from all around are eating away Flexxx's backbone to speak up, but he finally lifts up the mic to his mouth :

 

"...hello, hello New York!"

 

[insert canned jeers here]

 

"This is the warm welcome a man gets in his home state, eh? Oh lord, you people suck!"

 

[insert real boos here]

 

"You're all probably wondering why I came back here so fast after the suspension documents were burned! Well, if y'all really wanna know the truth about it... I had received a call from my close friend Matt Myers, saying that he had stumbled upon the documents a whole MONTH ago! Hey Eddy Mac, that *was* pretty smooth, leaving those folders on your desk unattended! Hahaha, that's the people's man of do-all-right, Eddy Mac!"

 

The Commish's grief swells as he mutters "D'OH!"

 

"It feels so great to be back here, you poor idiots could not even begin to imagine how powerful the Smarks World Order is going to be now, with *your* X-Rated King of Destruction back and ready to flunk more names down!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...Flexxx stalls on the mic, as the crowd is already getting nauseated by him...

 

 

 

 

"And that's what I did want to say. Sigh..."

 

Axis : "Huh? What does he mean by that? He doesn't look happy!"

 

King : "Why shouldn't he? He and the rest of the SWO members have everything they could ever want!"

 

Flexxx continues on to explain...

 

"I am sorry to sort of distance myself from you guys, Mak, Mike, Spike and Myers... but you simply are not the same people I enjoyed my career in the JL with, nor are you the same stable. You have drastically changed the way the JL is run."

 

"When I created the New Sound with the other founding member of your group, Manson, we had the intention of gaining more power and respect in the JL... we went against the figureheads that tried to stomp out our influence, and together, Manson and myself have went up against some of the most talented opponents we were given the chance to face in this business. Mostly, they were young talent from X Force Nine. Me and Manson had some support along the way from a few friends such as Xero, Tom Flesher and Matt Myers, but that was basically it..."

 

Edwin : "I see, so you had a couple similarly undeserving ass fiends helping you along the way? Oh TAG ME!"

 

"The New Sound wasn't about having all the power. It was about being heard, seen, and noticed... we wanted to finally stand out. The Smarks World Order... is nothing more than an overbloated shell of its parent stable."

 

What the fuck!? Flexxx isn't in support of his own stable, the confused crowd was thinking.

 

"Once again I apologize for this disappointment, Mak and company, but I'm not in your stable and never was. The Smarks World Order... is nothing more than a backstage cancer that wants ALL the control! Instead of beating back the JLCC and the opposing stables, you little fuckers want nobody but yourselves to hold all the cards! Jesus Christ, I know that you brought me back and everything, but still, you're a hard bunch of selfish, inconsiderate, jackasses!"

 

Axis : "WHAT THE HELL!? So he's against his own stable?"

 

Edwin : "...there is something really smelly involved in all of this business. And it isn't just Flexxx!"

 

King : "Hahaha... he just wants to kick all the SWO's asses and gain back control, its so stupidly clear!"

 

"...So for the record, I refuse to work with that shady bunch, the SWO. They're not to be trusted, and they're a bunch of pathetic sellouts! Ya hearin' me backstage boys? S-E-L-L O-U-"

 

 

Suddenly, Prong's "Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck" loudly blares over the SmarkTron speakers and a grainy video in shades of grey is shown, as red strobelights shine down on a grimly smirking Manson. The oft-ignored loner, self-imposed exile to some, makes his way down to the ring, while seemingly provoked. As Flexxx takes a few steps backward in the ring, Manson enters the ring and turns around to raise his arms into the crucifix position, back to Flexxx. As Manson's music continues to play, the crowd is being worked into cheering him on, and his former tag partner is quickly becoming annoyed.

 

"MANSON!"

 

The self-proclaimed Saviour lowers his arms, and slowly turns around into a piercing cold stare.

 

"Tell me... why are you down here in this ring?"

 

"Oh confused Callaway, I could ask you the same exact thing..."

 

Manson walks up to Flexxx, without breaking the icy stare, and stands face to face, his deep black eyes burning a hole through Callaway :

 

"What are you doing down here Fletcher, drowning us in pain with all your god-forsaken bitching!?"

 

The crowd's cheering goes into overdrive, as Flexxx is speechless and Manson backs away from him to continue on.

 

"As far as I and every unblinded person in this arena can see, you are bitching about how things aren't happening your way, just so you can have all the control that Mak Francis has! Yet you can't go up to him and say that directly to his face...pity, pity. You're still a spoiled coward, Fletcher!"

 

Flexxx is screaming a mouthful of swearwords back at him about getting in his business, but Manson takes no regard to them and continues on.

 

"BUT, listen to me, that isn't why I came down here to shut your big trap..."

 

"Oh, then why ARE you sticking your nose in my personal business?" Flexxx sharply rebounds.

 

"Maybe because you are the absolute biggest hypocrite in this federation! You talk and talk, about how your friends, the SWO, sold themselves out? Well, let's see who sold them out to some crazy madman in the WF, Wilson, and turned the New Sound into that piss-poor power trip in the first place!!! Who are you to say that--"

 

"You walked out on us, I had no choice."

 

"I walked out, because you planned that all along. I saw what was coming... I got out, before I became a victim of the system, a victim of conformity and getting shut down for not falling in line. I took my own path, not ready or willing to bow down to some guy with delusions of grandeur. You said it yourself Fletcher, this stable, this grand creation, has grown out of it's intended bounds. The SWO, the New Sound, no longer was about the recognition that WE deserved. It became about ruthless power, the type that brings the creators to their own destruction."

 

"Well, why the fuck are you taking up issue with me then? I want to put the SWO back in check, so let me do my thing..."

 

"No... Something still isn't right about all this. Matt Myers has been your associate, through thick and thin, ever since you both were in, what was it called, Destruction?. I'd expect you to pay a debt of gratitude towards him and the SWO, not turn your back as soon as you make your presence known again."

 

"We both have a common goal, I'm on your side."

 

"I don't trust you Fletcher, in fact, I never trusted you. So, I'm on no one's side. As for me, I'm going to take what I made, and like a horse with a bum leg, I'm going to put the SWO out of it's miserable existence. Take my word for it right now, I'm going to take away the SWO's breath, and right what I've done wrong... retribution for my sins, you know. And for some fair warning, it doesn't matter to me if you're in the way or not."

 

*fxhslhe*

 

"Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck" blares once again, as Manson drops the microphone and backs out of the ring, heading up the rampway. Flunkmasta Flexxx, left in the ring, stares back up the ramp at Manson, as Manson turns around towards him and raises his arms in the Crucifix once again.

 

Axis : "...what... just happened here between these two? I thought they were allies!"

 

King : "Allies? Why should they be, so my boys of heeldom don't have an easy life? Blow that!"

 

Edwin : "This is getting ridiculous! Both of those two are gnawing away the threshold of my patience with their games... I've had enough of this blasted night, damn it!"

 

...the burdened commissioner shakes his head in dismay, and it shows that his sudden turn of bad luck is getting to him...

 

Edwin : "What are you boneheads doing!? Cut to the commercial break! NOW!"

[Guest HVilleThugg]

Axis: "and We’re back here on Metal!"

 

[We fade back to the arena, where we see Edwin, King and Axis at the table. We see the ring, where Funyon is standing by with a microphone.]

 

Funyon: "Ladies and Gentlemen, our next match is scheduled for one fall.. Introducing first.."

 

[The lights dim.]

 

Funyon: "He’s from Detroit, Michigan, he weighs in at 300 pounds, Leon Sharpe!"

 

["Something bad is gonna happen" by Fenix TX starts to play over the sound system. As we see Leon Sharpe walk through the curtains carrying a duffel bag as the fans cheer.]

 

King: "You know they just cheer him so he can give them shirts, right?"

 

Edwin: "Don’t be so jaded, they also cheer him because of some other reasons.. he’s charismatic like Wham and manly like with his hair. Sharpe uses some good shampoo!"

 

King: "Ack! Get a room!"

 

[sharpe stops for a few moments trying to make a sell. Then, he enters the ring over the top rope and goes to a corner. Sharpe then takes off this t-shirt and exits the ring for a moment.]

 

Funyon: "Introducing second.."

 

[The lights in the arena dim as we notice Sharpe handing his shirt over to a fan and putting some money in his bag.]

 

Funyon: "Hailing from London, England, making his SJL return, weighing in at 230lbs, Jack the Ripper!"

 

[Pyro lights up the entrance way and the ramp. "Fight Song" by Marilyn Manson starts to play over the speakers as Jack makes his way down the ramp to boos from the fans. We see shots of the East End of London flashing on the screen in a warlike fashion that seems to set the mood on ‘psychotic’. The lights come back on and the pyro goes off. We see Jack "the Ripper" in the ring taunting the crowd and then Sharpe goes on the attack with a blindsiding of Jack]

 

King: "Just the way Sharpe likes it, from behind."

 

Axis: "Jack the Ripper making his return to SJL after a absence of a few months."

 

Edwin: "Lets see if Jacky has made a change-a-roo since the last time he was here in the SJL."

 

Sharpe pounds on Jack early, whipping him into the ropes. Jack comes off with a dropkick, but Sharpe manages to move out of the way, leaving Jack to miss. Sharpe cracks his knuckles and moves in with some kicks to the downed Jack. Jack manages to grab the ropes, but Sharpe pulls him off the ropes and kicks him some more. Sharpe backs off a bit with a smirk, allowing the Ripper to take off his trenchcoat. Jack smiles deviously as he charges Leon, wrapping the coat around the 6'10", 300-pounder's neck as the fans boo. Sharpe retaliates for this choking by punting Jack in the groin. Jack holds himself in pain and he has to toss the jacket away. Sharpe hits Jack with some punches as he tries to get up. Jack wobbles back to a corner as Sharpe decides to get some revenge. Sharpe chokes Jack in the corner with his boot as the fans cheer for this act of vengence.

 

Sharpe breaks his choke hold within a few seconds and smirks at the fallen Jack as we hear some chants of "Sharpe". Sharpe nods and then whips Jack into the other corner, Sharpe charges in, only to be surprised with a dropkick from Jack, as the fans boo. Jack taunts the booing fans, showing his sadistic-looking face, to draw more jeers from the Slaughterhouse fans. Jack irish whips Sharpe into the ropes, hitting him with a clothesline, but proving unable to take Sharpe down with just that move. Jack builds up a head of steam, runs off the ropes and hits Sharpe with a dropkick, which sends Sharpe over the top rope. Sharpe lands on his feet on the floor after taking that move. Sharpe decides to make this Hardcore match hardcore as he takes a chair from ringside for himself. Sharpe steps over the top rope, only to have Jack cause Sharpe to run his own crotch into the ropes.

 

Sharpe grimaces in pain as Jack takes his chair. The fans boo as Jack hits Sharpe with the chair right to the face. Sharpe is entangled in the ropes by his leg as Jack goes to work with that chair. Jack hits Sharpe a few more times before Sharpe gets his leg out of the ropes, leading a comeback to cheers by swinging at Jack. Jack, who still has a chair, simply nails Sharpe with it, Sharpe moves back a few inches at that shot. Jack reels back for another shot, before Sharpe hits him with a big boot, which takes him down and causes him to drop the chair. Sharpe hears the cheers as he picks up the chair, and then tosses it away, causing the fans to murmur in confusion.

 

King: "What is Sharpe doing? Use the chair!"

 

Sharpe instead picks up Jack and drops him throat-first over the top rope with a Hotshot. Sharpe picks him again, holding him up in a bearhug, before falling back and dropping Jack’s throat over the top rope again. Sharpe hears more cheers as he kicks at the neck of Jack. Sharpe lifts Jack up with an elevated chokehold, causing Jack to flail violently in an attempt to escape. Jack is thrown into the corner by Sharpe as fans cheer again. Sharpe laughs and soaks in some cheers, allowing for Jack to slip out between the ropes and dig under the ring apron to find some plunder to use.

 

Jack found just the thing to use, as he enters the ring with a fire extinguisher. Jack uses the nozzle and sprays the mysterious white stuff out of the extinguisher, which blinds Sharpe. Jack follows up that extinguisher attack with a backhand right to Sharpe’s face.

 

Edwin: "You do not want to be that backhand-a-riffic to Leon Sharpe"

King: "Yeah, backhand him and hit him with the extinguisher!"

 

Sharpe did not take that backhand well, as he didn’t really get effected by it at all, instead he stared at Jack and smirked. Jack went for another backhand, only to have it blocked and Sharpe hit him with the Uraken spinning backfist to the cheers of the crowd. Sharpe then goes for a cover.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Jack kicks out at two after that backfist. Sharpe pulls Jack up, before Jack picks up the extinguisher and hits Sharpe in the head with it and he makes a cover.

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Sharpe kicks out at two as it seems obvious that hitting him once with that fire extinguisher was just not enough to keep the mighty man down for a count.

 

Sharpe gets up, takes the extinguisher and tosses it away, which confuses fans even more. Sharpe instead hits Jack in the neck with an elbow before following up with a DDT. But, instead of going for a cover, Sharpe went back to work on the neck some more. Sharpe rips the turnbuckle cover off and drives Jack into the exposed turnbuckle with Snake Eyes.

 

Axis: "What a brutal move there by Sharpe! Right into that cold callous steel"

Edwin: "Jacky is being welcomed back to the SJL in a suck-a-riffic style, like how a husband is welcomed by his ex-wifey"

King: "Yeah, Sharpe is like an ex-wife, he’s whiny, greedy and he’d end up on his back for anybody"

 

Sharpe runs Jack into the turnbuckle again, and again, with two more Snake Eyes, trying to hurt Jack’s head and neck to the cheers of the fans. Sharpe cranks Jack’s neck, smirking at Jack’s pain. Sharpe puts Jack into a head-vise, shades of Kona Crush, causing the application of more pressure to Jack’s head. Jack manages to kick and punch his away out of the vise.

 

Jack uses his opening to leave the ring and search for more hidden plunder. Jack pulls out some trash cans, rolling them out besides him. But Sharpe decides to surprise Jack by vaulting over the top rope and landing on him with a plancha to the ovation of the fans.

 

Axis: "Incredible plancha by Sharpe! You don’t see big men fly like that just anytime."

 

Edwin: "Sharpe mighta went and cracked the mold when he was made from. He’s nearly a seven feet tall-a-riffic monster and he’s trying to fly like a bird!"

 

King: "He should stick to what he does best, unless he wants to hurt himself, which I advise him to do over and over"

 

Sharpe punches Jack as he lays over him on the floor. We hear chants of "Sharpe" in the aftermath of that move. Sharpe picks up Jack and then spinebusters him though the trashcans, causing him to arch his back in pain. Sharpe follows up that with a side headlock on the floor, applying more pressure to the head and neck of Jack the Ripper.

 

Axis: "Sound technical more here by Sharpe."

 

King: "But where’s the weapons? That’s what I came here to see, not a damn headlock!"

 

Edwin: "You came here because you go to the paywindah for this job"

 

King: "Yeah, that too, whatever a paywinder is.. you just come here because you like them young."

 

Jack counters out of the side headlock with a backdrop, causing Sharpe to shake his head in a bit of pain at being dropped on his back. Jack gets up and charges in for a spear, only to have Sharpe move out of the way and throw Jack head-first into the ringpost. Jack holds his head in pain as Sharpe throws Jack into the ringpost again. Sharpe laughs a bit, and then he applies a front facelock to Jack. Sharpe then backs up into the ringpost so he could ram Jack’s head into it a few more times.

 

King: "Very evil move by Sharpe, he isn’t just running that guys head into the post, doing it over and over, it’s a combo move. Still, I wish a lot of harm on the T-shirt slut Leon Sharpe"

 

Edwin: "Go figurey King, you can’t keep from bashing Sharpe for long even if he is using a with painful-a-riffic effects"

 

King: "Ladies and Gentlemen, Edwin MacPhisto, putting the English language to shame."

 

Sharpe releases the ‘battering ram’ version of the chokehold and throws Jack into the ring. Sharpe kicks at Jack, before Jack trips Sharpe up, allowing for the Ripper to get some control over this match. Jack runs off the ropes and hits Sharpe with a jumping clothesline, which takes knocks Sharpe onto his back. Jack rolls out of the ring, and goes back in search for the hidden plundah. Jack finds two tables and a chair, and he slides them into the ring, but by the time he gets back in, Sharpe is on his feet. Sharpe hits Jack with punches and forearms, before applying a full nelson onto Jack the Ripper. Jack squirms while trying to get out of the hold. Jack get out of Sharpe’s hold by getting one arm out of the hold allowing him to hit an armdrag to Sharpe taking him down. Jack waits until Sharpe gets up, and then takes him down with a monkey flip. Sharpe is dazed and on his back after that, as Jack goes for one of his tables to the jeers of the fans.

 

Jack sets up the table, and then Sharpe gets up and charges at him. Jack avoids the charge and whips Sharpe into the ropes. As Sharpe was coming back off the ropes, Jack hit Leon Sharpe with his Ripper’s Bulldog though the table. Sharpe holds his face after it was slammed though that able before Jack goes for a cover.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR---KICKOUT!

 

Sharpe manages to kickout at the last second to the cheers of the fans. Sharpe holds his face some more, as Jack goes back in to rip Sharpe up. Jack hits him with more punches and then he knocks Sharpe over the top rope. Jack uses his time in the ring to set up another table close to a turnbuckle. Sharpe comes back into the ring with a paddle from a Kayak.

 

King: "A kayak paddle? What the hell? Do we have packrats living under the ring?"

 

Sharpe hits Jack in the ribs, neck, leg and groin with the paddle which takes him down to the canvas. As Jack is on his hands and knees, Sharpe smashes the paddle over Jack’s head, causing the crowd to come out and say "ooooooh". Sharpe follows up the kayak paddle attack with a Camel Clutch.

 

Axis: "Sharpe, using the finisher of the man who helped train him, the Original Sheik"

 

Edwin: "Next thing ya know, Sharpey will be throwing fire and stabbing chums with pencils"

 

King: "I hope he stabs you with a pencil Edwin, that’d made me buy one of Sharpe’s dumb t-shirts"

 

Sharpe pulls back on Jack’s chin with that camel clutch, as the Referee, the distinguished Anthony Michael Hall, moves in to check Jack’s condition. Sharpe smirks and pulls back on the chin of Jack the Ripper. Jack the Ripper manages to find a piece of the broken table that was in the ring, and he gets ahold of it. Jack hits Sharpe over the head with it, forcing Sharpe to break the hold.

 

Sharpe walks back a bit to shake off that weapons shot, before Jack comes in with a dropkick which sends him back to the corner. Jack comes in and then goes for a Frankensteiner on Sharpe, but Sharpe catches Jack and holds him up for a powerbomb, only to have Jack flip over his back and follow-though with a sunset flip into a pin.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

TH-Kickout!

 

Sharpe kicks out in time after that fast sunset flip. Sharpe gets back to his feet, only to be dazed by more kicks from Jack the Ripper. Jack climbs the turnbuckles and then takes Sharpe down to the mat with a Tornado DDT. Sharpe is dazed on the canvas as Jack gives the sign that he’s gonna hit his finisher on Sharpe. The fans boo loudly at the idea of Jack hitting his Ripping on Leon Sharpe. Jack gets Sharpe’s head into position but Sharpe throws Jack the Ripper off him, leaving him to fall onto the floor outside the ring.

 

Axis: "What a counter by Leon Sharpe! The Ripping was not ripped on Sharpe here"

King: "But, if it was, I’d be laughing like a hyena."

Edwin: "I really think that if Sharpey evuh had ta leave wrestling, he’d be a superstar at dwarf throwin!"

 

Jack gets back up, composes himself and then rolls into the ring as Sharpe lays in wait in a corner. Right as Jack gets into the ring, Sharpe charges in and wallops him with a huge lariat knocking him against the ropes and taking him down onto his back. Sharpe makes a cover right then.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

TH-Kickout!

 

 

Sharpe pulls Jack up after the kickout and it looks like Sharpe will hit him with another clothesline, but Jack ducks and hits a neckbreaker on Sharpe. Before he could go for a cover, Sharpe powers out and gets onto his knees to the cheers of the fans. Sharpe punches Jack some more, but Jack kicks him in the gut and lands a DDT on Sharpe. Jack then rubs Sharpe’s face into the mat to a very negative response from the fans. Jack taunts Sharpe as he rolls over the set up table and drags him under the table.

 

Axis: "What devious plans does Jack have now?"

 

King: "They better be good ones, or else I’ll release the hounds on him!"

 

Edwin: "That table has been up for awhile, either use it or give to me so I can take it home"

 

Jack picks up Sharpe and is met by punches to the ovation of the audience. Sharpe is neutralized by a vicious low blow as Jack makes it obvious that he’s gonna not just hit the Ripping on him, he’s gonna do it though a table. Jack gives a deranged smile as he hooks Sharpe’s head in a stunner position and goes towards the turnbuckles, but a surprise was waiting for him.

 

Axis: "Yeeeeow.. that hurt"

 

Sharpe crotched Jack on the top rope to block his finisher. Sharpe then makes his decision to make use the table.

 

Axis: "OH, GOOD GOD! SHARPE WITH A GERMAN SUPLEX THOUGH THAT TABLE!"

 

Edwin: "Jacky the Ripper has been ripped up and the tabley is broken"

 

Jack landed on his stomach after taking a vicious German Suplex which flipped him hard and put him face-first on the mat. Sharpe gets up as the crowd cheers and he smirks at the sight of Jack on the mat with a broken table all around him. Sharpe kicks a chair into place and he picks up Jack.

 

Axis: "Sharpe has to be thinking about his finishing move, the Silver Bullet"

 

King: "Or he could pin the guy now"

 

Edwin: "There ain’t much of a risk here, Jack is out of it like Anna Nicole Smith, and but she’s more of a cutey"

 

King: "Ack! I knew they were ugly in the UK, but not that ugly!"

 

Sharpe gorilla presses Jack in an impressive motion and then he puts Jack into position for a Tombstone as the fans get on their feet.

 

Axis: "SHARPE WITH THE SILVER BULLET ONTO THAT STEEL CHAIR!"

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

Funyon: "Your winner of the match, LEON SHARPE!"

 

Sharpe gets up and he has a smile on his face after his first SJL victory. Sharpe walks to the corner and unzips his duffel bag, pulling out a ripped up t-shirt, which he drops on Jack the Ripper before walking off to cheers from the fans.

 

Edwin: "I can’t believe mah eyes! Jacky the Ripper gets a ripped up shirt!"

 

King: "I knew Sharpe has shoddy t-shirts! I knew it! Shoddy merchandise!"

 

Axis: "Let’s move on"

[Guest HVilleThugg]

“…Are we on?” Chimes Commissioner MacPhisto, “Ah, yes, we are!”

 

“Welcome one, and all, to Smarks Junior Leauge MEETTALLL!” Axis chimes in, as the camera pans over to the announce table, where Axis, The Suicide King, and Commissioner Edwin sit Edwin takes a sip of his strawberry daiquiri, as he smiles a bit.

 

“We’ve seen a bunch of great matches tonight, including a match from an Irish newcomer, Tim Dillion. Plus we also saw Jack The Ripper go one on one against Leon Sharpe in an amazing hardcore match!” Axis says.

 

“And I’m just waiting for Edwin to hop off of the announce table and break some Junior League neck!” The Suicide King chuckles, as Axis frowns. The Suicide King isn’t done with his taunting, as he continues, “Your all smiles for a man who broke someone’s neck, Edwin. How do I know that your not going to snap and break someone’s neck in this next match?”

 

“Well, if I’m provoked, I just might. And you seem to be provoking me to break SOMEONE ELSE’S neck if you catch my drift,” Edwin says, giving an evil glare to The Suicide King.

 

“Hey, at least I didn’t get dumped by my best friend,” The Suicide King says, “Me and Commissioner McWeed are on the best of terms, unlike you and your pal Chris Raynor.”

 

“Don’t you mean your boyfriend, Commissioner McWeed, Kingy?” Edwin snickers.

 

“Boyfriend? I have no need for one...don’t you remember, Edwin? I’m happily married to…Ooooooooh…I swear to god, Edwin, the day I snap, you’ll be the first to go…” King grumbles. Before King can continue with the death threats, The arena's lights come to a sudden halt, as the arena darkens. A surprisingly huge pop comes from the crowd, as they know then next match will be a huge. Seconds pass by until…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

::BOOM!::

 

A huge neon-purple pyro goes off in the middle of the entrance way, as a multi-colored stroblelight hits in the arena, still engulfed in darkness, as the arena turns into a rave-like state. "Rise" by The Cult blasts through the speakers, as the fans rise from their seats. Smoke hisses out from the entrance way, as Matt Myers steps through the smoke, and on to the entrance ramp. He looks out at the crowd, as they give him a huge pop. He doesn’t smile, though, as it’s a glare of strange respect. He begins walking down to the ring as Funyon announces the match and the competitors…

 

“LADIES AND GEEENTTLEEMMMEENN!” Funyon says, “The following contest is for THE EUR-O-PEEEAN CHAMPIONSHIP! INTRODUCING FIRST! Representing the sWo, from NEW HAVEN, CONNECTICUT! Weighing in at 229 Pounds, “BROTHER RED” MATTTT MMMYYERRRSS!”

 

Matt slides under the bottom rope, as he jumps up to the second rope, looking out at the crowd, as a frown is smeared on his face. He throws his arms up into the air to a mix of cheers and boos.

 

“Well, folks, Matt Myers is going to go one on one with another sWo member, Fugue, a match that couldn’t happen last show because of travel difficulties. “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins isn’t here tonight, as far as I know, so this is going to be a fair match,” Axis says, “But I’m sure Spike would love a shot at the Euro title, and maybe a shot at Matt Myers! Myers has been having trouble with the sWo members as late, epically the co-leader Mak Francis!”

 

“Well, Mak Francis is a man of respect and honor, and Matt Myers thinks to seem that Mak lacks both of them!” King says, “But putting that aside, this ought to be a great match. Two very different, but at the same time, two very alike styles. Myers and Fugue both try to keep the match at a fast, cruiserweight-style pace, and they are both extraordinary technical wrestlers, but Mr. Myers is skilled at martial arts, and Fugue specializes as submissions. Kicks or armbars? Kung Fu or leg locks? Akido or…”

 

“We get it, King!” Edwin says.

 

Lights go out completely, and Bach's "Toccata and Fugue in D minor" starts up. After the first few measures (when it gets to the faster part), lots of white lights flash (some strobes too) as Fugue appears and slinks down the ramp. As Funyon begins to announce him, “Toccata and Fugue in D minor” changes to Rage Against The Machine’s “Ashes In The Fall”.

 

“Now making his way to the ring,” Funyon says, “Representing the sWo…From Philadelphia, PA, weighing in at 181 Pouuunnddss…he is the EUUUUUROOOOPPPPPEEEEEEEEANNNNNNNN champion…FUUUUUUGGGGGUUUUUUUEEEEEEE!”

 

Fugue slides under the bottom rope and into the ring, as he skips the rest of his ritual. He begins staring down Matt Myers, as both men lock eyes. The camera zooms in on them both, as they do not move. It seems as if fire burns in each of the wrestler’ eyes, They stand there like stone statues, not moving. As “Ashes In The Fall” die down, the crowd is hyped. They are out of their seats, cheering for some blood from both of the sWo members, memories of their last meeting still in their head. Fugue puts his European Championship into the referee’s hand, as the referee raises the title above his head. The bell rings, and the match begins.

 

::Ding, ding, Diiiiiing!::

 

“And here we go!” Axis screams, “Matt Myers-Fugue…part two!”

 

Myers and Fugue break their stone-like silence and begin circling eachother, as they jump at eachother, locking up. Fugue backs Matt Myers against the turnbuckle, but Myers muscles out of it as he pushes into Fugue, as Fugue falls to the mat. Fugue looks up at Myers, his face cold and unforgiving.

 

“Myers showing Fugue that he’s got the upper-hand in strength in this battle,” Edwin says.

 

Fugue gets up to his feet, as Myers runs out of the turnbuckle, trying to clothesline down the music man, but Fugue is one step ahead of Myers, this time dropping him down in a drop-toe hold. He quickly jumps on top of Myers, applying an arm-bar. Myers gets up to his feet as he delivers a few quick punches to the stomach of Fugue, breaking up the arm-bar. He grabs a hold of Fugue’s wrist, as he pushes him against the ropes and then whips Fugue across the ring. He runs after Fugue, but as Fugue hits the opposing ropes and begins to come back at Matt Myers, he jumps into the air and comes back on top of Myers with a flying crossbody! Fugue quickly hops off of Myers as Matt quickly gets up to his feet, as Fugue delivers a dropkick to the jaw of Matt. Fugue quickly runs over as he jumps on top of Matt Myers, as the referee counts…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THR—No, Myers kicks out just in time! Fugue looks up at the ref, angry that he didn’t get the three so early in the match, as he grabs Myers hair and pulls him up…

 

“Fugue seems to want to end this match quickly,” Axis says.

 

“Yes, it would be quite an embarrassment for the sWo co-leader to loose a match so early,” King says.

 

…As Fugue takes the left arm of Myers and twists it above his head and then back down, executing a brutal arm-wrench! He does it a second time, as Matt Myers screams in pain.

 

“Fugue is working on the same arm that he executed the arm-bar on in the beginning of the match. Fugue seems to have found a part of the body that he’s going to work on,” Edwin says.

 

Fugue tries to do it a third time, but Myers uses his long legs do deliver a quick martial-arts kick to the stomach of Fugue. Fugue doubles over, still keeping a-hold of Matt Myers’ arm. Myers pulls Fugue into him, as he gives the music man a belly-to-belly suplex! The crowd lets out a brutal ‘Oooooooooh!’ as Fugue collides with the cold mat! Myers sees that Fugue is down, as he runs against the ropes. He comes back at Fugue, as he takes a roll on the ground, and then jumps into the air next to Fugue, as he comes down on the music man with a brutal leg-drop! He covers Fugue, as the referee counts…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

…No, Fugue kicks out after two!

 

“…Annnnnnd…Fugue kicks out after two!” Axis says, “I hope Myers didn’t hurt his arm when he did that belly-to-bell suplex.”

 

Myers gets up to his feet, as he picks up the music man, as he delivers a quick kick to the gut of the music man, as he looks behind him and runs against the ropes behind him, as he jumps into the air and tries to deliver a Booker-T style ax-kick, but Fugue pulls his head out of the way, as Myers falls to the mat. Fugue quickly grabs the legs of Matt Myers, as it seems as if he’s trying to roll him over into a Boston crab, but Myers uses his powerful legs to push Fugue into the turnbuckle, as he lets go of the leg-submission hold. Myers jumps up to his feet, as he runs at Fugue, hitting the music man with a jumping judo kick to the jaw! Fugue, dazed and confused, begins walking out from the turnbuckle, as Matt Myers runs against the ropes past Fugue, and comes behind him, as he reaches back and grabs the neck of the sWo member and hits him with a diamond cutter!

 

“THE MEMORY!” Edwin screams, “It’s all over here! Myers covers Fugue!”

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE…NO! Fugue kicks out just in the knick of time! Myers pulls himself to his knees, as he looks down at the 5’11 Fugue. He sighs in disbelief, as he picks up Fugue. He quickly goes behind him, as he locks in a waist-lock, but Fugue counters the lock with a couple of elbows to the head. Fugue then turns into Matt Myers, as he grabs a-hold of Matt’s waist, as he swings him over his head and down in a Northern Lights Suplex!

 

“OOOOOH!” Echoes the crowd, as they cringe as Matt Myers’ neck and back slam hard on the mat!

 

“That’ll leave a mark, maybe even an injury!” King says. Fugue picks up Matt Myers again, still holding on to him in the Northern Lights Suplex, as he lets go of it and grabs the left arm of Myers, as he twists it around this time in an arm wrench, and then pulls Matt Myers back into him, hitting another Northern Lights Suplex!

 

“Amazing! Fugue is still trying to work on the arm of Matt Myers, even though he’s still doing the northern lights suplex combination. Simply amazing!” Edwin proclaims.

 

Fugue picks up Matt Myers once more time, as he lets go of him, still holding on to the left arm. He twists it around again…but Myers pulls Fugue into him, as he quickly jumps behind Fugue and pulls out an AMAZING German Suplex! The crowd goes wild as Matt Myers picks Fugue up again, the waist-lock still on the music man...

 

WHAM!

 

He executes another…

 

WHAM!

 

Another!

 

WHAM!

 

Another…

 

WHAAAAAM!

 

A final one, as this time, Matt Myers lets go of the helpless Fugue! Fugue falls to the mat, aching in pain, as Matt Myers leans against the ring ropes. Fugue rolls to the center of the ring as Matt Myers points to the top turnbuckle…

 

“It’s all over here!” Axis says, “Five amazing German suplexes from Matt Myers, and now it looks like he’s going to finish it all off!”

 

Matt Myers hops up on the top turnbuckle, as he looks out at the crowd. He sees that Fugue is close to rising to his feet, as he is on both knees, but still weary. He takes a mighty leap off the top rope, as he spins 360 digresses in the air, as he falls…

 

Falls…

 

Falls…

 

Falls…

 

Falls…

 

…AS FUGUE GRABS THE ARM OF MATT MYERS OUT OF NOWHERE, AS HE SLAMS HIM TO THE MAT, and hooks one of Matt Myers’ arms in a leg scissors and then reaches back and grabs the other, pulling them both backward! He executes a minor cord, as Matt Myers screams in pain! The referee asks Matt if he wants to give up, but Matt says no…well…more like “Noo-AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”! Myers sees that his feet are close to the rope so he tries to edge back to the ropes, but can he make it in TIME?!

 

“Matt Myers is fighting for everything he has here! His pride! His leadership! And he can’t give up now!” Axis says.

 

“Alas, Fugue has the minor cord PERFECTLY executed! There’s just no way Matt Myers can escape the perfect pain of the minor cord! It’s perfect harmony!” The Suicide King chuckles, as Myers is nearly inches away from the ropes.

 

…Closer…

 

…Closer…

 

…Cloooooooooooser…

 

YES! MATT MYERS GETS HIS FEET TO THE ROPES JUST IN TIME! Fugue angrily hops off of Matt Myers, as he turns to the referee and starts screaming at the official! The referee backs away from the music man, as Fugue is enraged.

 

“Fugue looks pissed that Myers didn’t tap, and it looks like that he’s about to take out the referee!” Edwin says. Fugue turns around to see Matt Myers climbing up the ropes, clutching his left arm, which was being pulled by Fugue in the minor cord. Fugue growls as he locks on a waist-lock around Matt Myers, as he tries to bring him back…but Matt Myers shifts his weight and rolls under Fugue, as he executes a perfect roll-up! The referee dives to the mat and begins counting, as the fans, in shock and surprise, count alongside the referee…

 

ONEEE!

 

TWOO!

 

THRE…NOOOOOOOOOOO! Fugue kicks out just in time, as the referee quickly throws up two fingers into the air! Matt Myers rolls on the mat, as both men lay exhausted on the cold mat. The referee begins a 10-count, as both men begin to rise to their feet…

 

ONE!

 

Fugue and Myers are still on their backs…

 

TWO!

 

Myers begins to stir, but Fugue is still exhausted…

 

THREE!

 

Fugue rolls over on to his belly, as he begins pushing himself up, as does Matt Myers…

 

FOUR!

 

Fugue is on one knee now, as Matt Myers is still on both of his knees…

 

FIVE!

 

Fugue is up, but still teetering, as he dives at Matt Myers with a punch…but it’s block as Myers delivers a punch of his own! He quickly rises to his feet as he delivers a quick karate kick to the gut of Fugue, as he runs against the ropes and hits Fugue with as swinging neckbreaker! He hops over the fallen body of Fugue, as the referee counts…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE…NO! Fugue kicks out JUST IN THE KNICK OF TIME!

 

“Augh! What is it going to take to keep Fugue down?!” Edwin exclaims.

 

Myers hops up to his feet once again, as he picks up Fugue’s hand…and it drops. He smiles, as he points to the top rope once more, this time he runs up the turnbuckle, as he takes a leap of faith off of it, as he twists in the air, spinning in a corkscrew moonsault…

 

 

 

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…BUT FUGUE ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY AS MYERS HITS THE MAT! FUGUE PULLS MYERS UP, as Fugue stands behind, reaches down and hooks opponent's arms in a double chickenwing! Once this is done Fugue does a flip over Brother Red and lands in a bridge--the back of his head is now pressing down on the back of Matt Myers’ head!

 

“HARMONY! HARMONY! IT’S ALL OVER! IT’S ALL OVER! MYERS MISSED THE CORKSCREW MOONSAULT, AND FUGUE TOOK ADVANTAGE OF THIS AGAIN!” Edwin screams, as a loud “TAP, TAP, TAP!” chant starts through the sea of fans. Matt Myers slowly but surely crawls over to the ropes, as he reaches his foot out…but Fugue drags Matt back into the ring and applies Harmony once more! Myers screams in pain as the ref asks if he taps, but Matt Myers refuses, as he begins sliding some more to the ropes.

 

…

 

He’s almost there…

 

…

 

He can smell the ring ropes…

 

…

 

He’s just inches away…

 

 

….

 

…AND HIS FOOT IS ON THE ROPES!

 

Fugue refuses to break the hold, as the referee begins his five count. At three, Fugue hops off of Myers, as he gets into the ref’s face once again. The referee screams back at Fugue, as Matt Myers begins to rise to his knees. Fugue pushes the referee, as the ref pushes Fugue back, (quite hard) as Fugue falls backwards, as Myers grabs the leg of Fugue and rolls him up in a school-boy roll-up! The crowd goes nuts at the referee counts…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

TH—NO! FUGUE KICKS OUT! FUGUE KICKS OUT!

 

“FUGUE KICKED OUT AGAIN!” Axis screams.

 

“These men are fighting with everything they have…and I’ve got a feeling it’s all going to come to an end very soon here…” King ponders. Fugue and Matt Myers both rise to their feet, as Fugue delivers a powerful chop to the chest of Myers.

 

Woooooooooooooooo! The crowd echoes with enthusiasm, as Matt returns the favor by delivering another chop!

 

Woooooooooooooooo! The crowd echoes with enthusiasm once again, as Myers delivers a chop.

 

Woooooooooooooooo! Another!

 

Woooooooooooooooo! And another! Matt Myers backs Fugue into the corner, as Fugue rests against the turnbuckle. Matt Myers sees that it’s time to finish the match, as he runs to the opposing turnbuckle, as the runs full speed at Fugue, as he spins half-way in mid-air, in a spinning kick coming straight at Fugue. Fugue sees that there’s only one way out of this, as he pulls the referee in front of him, as the referee gets hit right in the face with the powerful martial-arts kick! The crowd lets out a giant “Ooooooooooh!” as the referee falls down to the mat, knocked out cold!

 

“Ahh! Fugue pulled the referee in the way of the kick! How unsportsman-like!” Edwin scoffs.

 

“Unsportsman-like? Edwin! The referee shouldn’t have been in the way of the move!” King says, “Besides, this match has just become a fair fight!”

 

Matt Myers looks down at the mat and sees what he’s done, in pure shock. He looks up just in time to see Fugue deliver a cheap kick to the family jewels! Myers falls to his knees as Fugue gives a weak kick to the face of Matt Myers to push him down to the mat, as he begins climbing up to the top rope. At the top, he sees that Myers is on his knees…as he jumps up and dives toward the ring ropes that Fugue has his foot on! The rope wobbles, as Fugue falls straight on the turnbuckle! He groans in pain, as Myers lunges toward him and delivers a black mist to the face of the music man!

 

“BLACK MIST! BLACK MIST!” Axis says, “I haven’t seen that one in the longest of time! …And what the hell is Matt Myers doing here?!”

 

Matt Myers, seeing that Fugue is at an extreme disadvantage, begins climbing up the ropes…

 

“What’s he looking for here? A super-plex?” Edwin questions.

 

“I think he is or…oh my God…he isn’t going to…he can’t…” The Suicide King says, as he sees Matt Myers put Fugue on his back when he reaches the second rope. When Fugue is on his back, he takes one more careful step up to the top rope, as he takes one, long, last look out at the crowd. He takes a jump off with his back facing the ring, as he throws Fugue off in the air over his head, Fugue’s body twists around, so his head SLAMS into the mat! The crowd goes insane at the top-rope maneuver, as they go crazy!

 

“OH. MY. GOD.” Edwin says, “I DON’T BELIEVE MY EYES! I HAVE JUST WITNESSED A T-K-O FROM THE TOP ROPE!”

 

“WHAT A SALUTE TO MATT MYERS’ LONG-TIME FRIEND FLUNKMASTA FLEXXX!” Axis says, “AND LOOK! THE REFEREE IS UP! THE REFEREE IS UP!”

 

Myers crawls over as he lays one arm over the hand of the music man. The referee squints at what he sees, as he think it’s two beached whales, but he realizes what it is and begins to count…ever…so…slowly…

 

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

“Oh my god…could he?!” King says.

 

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOO!

 

“Is he?! Is HE?!” Axis screams.

 

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRREEEEEEEEE!

 

“YES! YES! HE DID IT! HE DID IT!” Edwin screams, “MATT MYERS HAS WON! MATT MYERS HAS WON! WE’VE GOT A NEW EUROPEAN CHAMPION! NEW EUROPEAN CHAMPION!”

 

::Ding, Diiiiiing Ding!::

 

The bell chimes as The Cult’s “Rise” blasts over the speakers. The crowd explodes in a huge pop, as Matt Myers rolls on to his back, as the referee takes Matt Myers’ limp arm and raises it into the air, as he lays the European Championship on the chest of the confused and exhausted Matt Myers.

 

“Hell King…what a match. What a match. You have to give it to both of these men, they gave it their all!” Edwin proclaims.

 

“I agree totally, Edwin, and we don’t do that often. I have to admit that this was probably one of the best matches I’ve ever seen. Two styles so similar, yet so different, fighting it out for a championship that has meant so much. Look at the past champions. Axis. Erek Taylor. Stryke. The Boston Strangler. And now Matt Myers,” The Suicide King says.

 

“Well, this leaves a lot of questions unanswered, Edwin,” Axis says, “Now that Matt Myers is the new European Champion, what is Fugue’s state with the sWo? What is Matt’s state with the sWo? Hell, after tonight…will their even BE an sWo? Folks, stay tuned, we’ll be right back!”

 

The camera zooms in on Matt Myers, as he is on his knees. He holds the title belt in his hands, as he rests his head on the title belt, vintage Shawn Micheals. The camera zooms in on Matt Myers as it fades into yet another commercial…

[Guest HVilleThugg]

…And this has been quick tips for cooking with GOdrea. Watch SWF Genesis I I I for the return of the WF cook off…

 

Fans at home sit ready for a great match as the Main Event is coming up next after the end of the above commercial, which is right now. Buut first it has become customary for me to shill a Wfer before a match in the “Wfer shill of the week”. And guess what because I’m lazy and have no desire to actually think I’ll just use my shilling from my last match, okay… OKAY!

 

Today’s Wfer to be shilled is a dual shilling of Chris Raynor again and Chris Wilson as he. So Raynor you’ll get the same shilling as last week! But Wilson of Y2Chris gets a brand spanking new paragraph! HUZZAH!

 

The crowd goes nuts, yelling and screaming their little hearts out for a chance at the fifteen seconds of fame that have been come to known as “The Wfer shill of the week!” Today’s Wfer in need of shilling is Chris Raynor as he turns on Eddie Mac, who is the best marker ever by the way, and shows the dreaded APW tape to the world. I would have said the Divefire return as he is pretty much god but I’m still a n00b so you get the idea. Anyways let the shilling begin.

 

As the camera pans the audience two fans are seen holding dual signs, “RAYN-MAN SMASH!” and “RAYN-MAN BASH!” A few “Y2Chris” signs can be spotted around the arena and even a “Raynor is God” sign.

 

And then suddenly for some unknown reason the camera pans the Smarks Junior League faithful one more time giving them a full thirty seconds of fame. They take advantage waving signs like; “Manipulative Maniac O' Fun”, “Y2Chris in full effect”, “Blowing up buildings is an art form”, “Piano wire…nothing strangles a Carnie better except the Suicide King”, a few “Magnificent 7” and “M7” signs and in conclusion on a huge multi poster sign it says “Wilson for ICTV…wait he already has that Wilson for World again”,

 

“Good day mates -” yells the always enthusiastic but disrespected Aussie play by play man.

 

“Shut up Axis, it’ll never be a good day again until Mak gets his belt back.” Interrupts the Suicide King before he can even start his normal spiel.

 

“Oh come on Kingy, lighten up!” comes the voice of reason know as Edwin MacPhisto. “It’s not like you lost your Def Leppard collection.” Uh, scratch that last thought of Edwin being the voice of reason.

 

“Damn that Z for kidnapping my babies!” replies Suicide King remembering the situation.

 

“As I was saying, Good day mates and welcome back to Smarks Junior Leagues Metal. I’m Axis and to my left and right respectively are SWF World Heavyweight Champion, “The crown prince of flash and panache” Eddie MAC-Phis-TOOOOOO! And former SWF World Champ “The breaker of hearts and rules alike” The Suicide KIIIINNNGGG!”

 

“That sucked.” Says King flatly. “Come on Axis I know you are not as big a crowd whore as Eddie Mac but you can do better than that for the marks at home.”

 

Axis suddenly clears his throat and…

 

“BAH GOD WE’RE BACK LIIIIIIVE AND READY FOR A FULL OUT SLOBBERNOCKERING MAIN EVENT SHOWDOWN HERE AT THE COW PALACE!” Yells Axis shilling the World Title triple threat Main Event. “SAN JOSE GET READY BECAUSE THIS MATCH WILL TEAR THE ROOF DOWN!” Adds and out of breath guy with a tendency to get locked in sheds. “That better King.”

 

“Meh, you’ve down better. Must be that Australian glass ceiling that Sacred was taking about. Stubby does good work cause you guys haven’t even put a scratch in it.”

 

“Uh… we are back and ready for some Main Event action like I’m sure that you fans at home are too.” Adds Edwin grinning like crazy in full on shill mode.

 

“Yes… well I must say that we’ve had a hell of a show so far. Tim Dillion makes an impressive entrance into the SJL with an unorthodox boxing and wrestling combination.“

 

“He even danced an Irish jig while snapping rights and left, with all the flash and panache of a big time player in this fed. It looks like Timmy will be going places.”

 

“Yeah right you’re just saying that because you’re both from Europe.”

 

“And what about the second of our two debuts as relative rookie Blank with only two matches under his belt takes on the SJL new comer Judge Mental.”

 

“There’s been a lot of hype with this old geezer but I don’t see why. When I interviewed Old Man River he seemed… well put it this way… he is the last person I’d expect to be a competent wrestler any more. I mean just look at him.”

 

“But he was impressive in his debut no matter what the Kingster over here thinks.”

 

“And the return Jack the Ripper against Leon Sharpe was the classic speed versus power match up, with a little twist as this one was hardcore rules. The two men put on a match that should boost Leon’s shirt sales.”

 

“And in the last match before our Main Event tonight was sWo versus sWo and was it ever a great match. The stable as of late has been competing against each other a lot…”

 

“Sparring can always help a team come together. Myself and Raynor…”

 

“And how together is that once dominate midnight carnival tag team now. Oh wait Raynor hit you with a steel chair at Apocalypse, then he killed the Jersey Reject… thank god, and followed it up by teaming with your most dangerous enemy against your stable mate that gets a shot at your World Title this up coming show.”

 

“Raynor’s just been brain washed by Wilson and the sWo is just crying like they normally do.” Interjects Axis with some valid points. “Healthy competition is just that, healthy competition.”

 

“I’ll have to agree with Axis on both accounts.”

 

“Well of course you would but everybody knows that you are biased Eddie Mac. I mean why shouldn’t Mak have just gotten his return match for the title after CIA didn’t even pin him to take it. Instead this travesty of justice is occurring and even though it hasn’t been announced as such this match has to determine who gets the next shot at the World Strap. But I think Mak already has plans for CIA one on one. Take a look at this.”

 

[start clip]

 

Francis looks a little distracted but soon regains his focus as he see the World Title belt around the waist of CIA.

 

“How dare you put that belt around your waist CIA?”

 

“Uh… eh?” quizzically answer CIA

 

“How dare you wear my belt? I held that belt for one month. I dominated this federation for one month beating anybody and everybody. After I dumped you on your head and pinned you for the one two three I first got my belt. Then I proceeded to nearly break Mike Van Siclen’s leg. Knock out Thor and you pin Thor in a triple threat match and all of a sudden you think your worthy of that belt. This was my summer. My month! My time dammit!!”

 

“YOU DIDN”T EVEN PIN ME!” Yells the Franchise suddenly irate. “YOU’VE NEVER PINNED ME IN YOUR ENTIRE CAREER!!”

 

[Pause clip]

 

"He has a point there. I don't think CIA has ever pinned Mak is his career."

 

"Well actually I'm not sure. You Edwin?"

 

"I don't know either but his bitching is annoying. He's been beat numerous times by the current World Champ."

 

[Restart clip]

 

“You talked about Thor but I tell you this right now. With no disqualification I won’t let him walk out of the ring without paying for getting pinned by you. By the end of this match, if you think what I did to him last time was bad… you don’t know the half of it! But that’s not important…”

 

[Pause clip]

 

"Strong words from Mak concerning this match with Thor."

 

"And you have to wonder if he'll actually do something worse than that attack two weeks ago."

 

[Restart clip]

 

Francis paces about the top of the stage and then stops suddenly causing the crowd to quiet. He actually looks rather calm.

 

“That belt you wear around your waist is important. And I think… I think we should have one last run. “The Franchise” versus “The Dream” one last time. It’ll be an epic. It’ll be great. It’ll be me and you one last time. And I want a guarantee that either you’ll pin me or I’ll pin you. No gimmick cage or third man to get pinned. One last bloody hurrah before we move onto to bigger and better things. But we have a little time. So we don’t have to rush unless you’re ready. Are you ready CIA, cause I’m standing right here.”

 

CIA gets ready to brawl with Francis. The crowds hot, CIA’s ready to fight and Mak Francis drops his mic…

 

And walks to the back leaving the crowd stunned.

 

[End clip]

 

"They were ready to go and then nothing happened but you have to wonder what would happen in one last match... "The Franchise" and "The Dream".

 

The lights shut off and a blue spotlight shines on the entrance…

 

“Enough about Mak and his whining as business is about to pick up!” Exclaims Edwin in a markish high-pitched voice. “I always wanted to say that.”

 

The opening chords of KISS- God of Thunder blast on the speakers…

 

** CRACKDOOOOOOOOOOOOOM~!! **

 

And suddenly a lightning bolt strikes the entrance way and it fills with smoke as the music starts driving. Then as the lyrics start blue and white pyros shoot off crossing each other and the man the myth the Norse God of legend Thor steps through the curtain and through the smoke to a big ovation from the Smarks Junior League faithful.

 

“Tonight’s Main Event contest is a No Disqualification and no interference match up!!!”

 

Thor stands on the top of the ramp in a double bicep pose as he walks down the ramp. The God of Thunder high-fives as many of the fans as he can but still looks down to the ring focused on the match at hand. He’s been involved in two World title matches and with a win here he’d get a third.

 

“First making his way to ringside at 345 pounds…from The Gleaming Halls of Asgard…he is the man…er…the myth…nah he is the Norse God of legend…“THORRRRRRRRRR!”

 

Thor steps up to the ring apron and over the top rope with ease, there he stands arms folded playing to the crowd before removing his cape and handing his hammer to ring attendant.

 

“You know what they say. The third times the charm and if Thor can pick up a win over Francis in tonight’s Main Event he’ll be on his way to his third shot at the SJL World Heavyweight Title.”

 

“With the sWo interference gone this should be a great contest.”

 

“Well lets face facts Edwin, the Mak attack is going to be out fir blood and Thor, being the non cheater that he is, has no chance in this No DQ environment, even without the rest of the sWo.”

 

[Whispered] ‘Are you Ready?’….

 

“And here comes the former World Champion fresh off a huge loss to CIA in the triple threat cage match.” states Axis.

 

Blue and White strobe lights flash as the SMARKStron airs highlights of Mak Francis hitting the perfect kick on TNT. This is followed by a blue and white photonegative image of Mak Francis…

 

“That’s the problem you moron he didn’t lose. Stop saying he lost. I already told you that once before.”

 

[semi loud] ‘Are you Ready?’….

 

And a clip of his European Title 4 way match, and him forcing the Canadian Intelligence Agent to tap out, during a figure four-leg lock. This is once again followed by a blue and white photonegative image of Mak Francis…

 

[screamed] ‘CAUSE THE FRANCHISE HERE!’

 

Francis exits from behind the curtain to even more jeers than his normal ovation of boos. The crowd really and I mean really lays into him for losing the World Title belt in that three way cage match. Chants about the Franchise no longer holding a belt run rampant through the crowd as he slowly walks down the ramp. A fan near the barricade even has a sign that particularly gets under Francis’s skin so he grabs it and musses it up before tossing it back in the fans face. That finally causes al the fans to unite in a common “Asshole” chant.

 

“And his opponent, making his way to ringside at 225 pounds…hailing from the city of brotherly hate…he is the FORMER SJL WORLD CHAMPION “THE FRANCHISE” MAAAAK FRANCCCIIISssssssssss!”

 

Francis looks at Funyon with a scowl for emphasizing “former” in his intro and enters the ring for the first time in a month with out the SJL World Title Gold on his shoulder. But he enters the ring anyways without his normal smug attitude and pomposity. In fact he looks to be more concerned with the fans chanting then his opponent Thor.

 

The Franchise sits in the corner waiting for Sexton Hardcastle to finish checking Thor as he checked Francis. Once Hardcastle gets up off his knee finished doing the job… no not that job, checking to see if Thor has any illegal objects, he asks for the bell.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“And here we go, no interference and no disqualification, “The Franchise” Mak Francis versus Thor after that brutal triple threat cage match.”

 

Mak Francis and Thor circle each other as they look for a weakness in their opponent’s defenses. Thor and Francis move about the ring as Mak feels out Thor’s timing. Once he finally gets a bead on it he misses an opportunity, slipping while going in for a single leg takedown.

 

“What the hell happened there…” wonders King.

 

“YOU FUCKED UP!” Chants the crowd starting the taunting of Mak again as Thor moves in and picks up the smaller man after his slip up. A few strong overhead right hands later and then Irish whip lands the Franchise into the turnbuckle. The God of Thunder then rushes in with an avalanche body splash that squashes Francis in between him and the pads. Thor smiles as Francis stands propped up in the corner. He assaults the Franchise with a barrage of back elbows to the ear each one looking like they nearly concussed Francis.

 

Then Thor briefly backs away from the broken man in the corner delivering a devastating knife-edge chop ** Smack ** across the Franchise’s chest to the delight of the fans.

 

“WHOOOOOOOOOOO” answers the crowd in response. But Thor is nowhere near finished as he rips the Franchise’s new “Money in the Bank” tee shirt showing his bare chest. Thor then opens the palm of his hand and brings it across Francis’s chest again ** SMAAAAACK!! ** eliciting a loud smack and loud crowd reaction.

 

“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO~!” shouts the crowd with added emphasizes. “Thor really pumped up so far in this match. He’s REALLY laying into Francis.”

 

Thor switches sides pummeling Francis each time with a cracking chop to which the crowd chants. Francis takes chop after chop trying to hold his chest in pain and surprisingly the master of counters himself can’t see an opportunity to counter.

 

“And each chop is like a… heh, bolt of electricity, Zing!”

 

“I despise you and your bad puns.”

 

“Oh come on King, have a heart.”

 

Finally Thor catches Francis with one surprisingly stiff knife-edge chop ** SMAAAAACK!!! ** that actually send him over the top rope and to the floor outside. Thor just poses after executing this feat of strength and Francis gets up from his hands and knees STILL not looking into the match.

 

“Mak just making a mental mistake so far as Thor is all over him, causing the former World Heavyweight Champion to go tumbling to the outside.”

 

“Yeah it’s not normal to see Francis trip when moving in for an attack.”

 

“The mat must be extra shellacked or something cause Mak don’t trip.”

 

Francis gets up off the ground and storms back into the ring sliding under the bottom rope – and right into a clothesline… well more like a lariat as Francis hits the mat, his head bouncing off the canvas from the sheer velocity. Thor drops and makes the cover as Hardcastle counts.

 

ONE

 

 

TWO

 

 

T-

 

“And a kick out from the Franchise. Boy did he ever walk into that one!”

 

“What is with Mak so far?” Adds King to Axis’s comment. “I just don’t get it.”

 

“Well he might be looking ahead to a match with CIA but I’d say it seems like he’s distracted. Even in the opening segment with CIA he didn’t seem as focused as he normally is.” Eddie Mac looks at Mak in wonder. “Could the loss of the World title be the reason he’s so out of it. Quite frankly, the kid hadn’t lost in a while and getting the belt taken for him with even getting pinned must be playing on his mind.”

 

Thor gets up off the mat while Mak Francis rolls to the ropes and pulls himself up. The Franchise shakes the cobwebs out as Thor rushes in looking to clothesline him once again, this time over the top rope – a connects with Francis who instead of ducking down pulling the bottom rope like he wanted too gets blasted to the outside of the ring – but Francis holds onto the top rope and while Thor turns around posing for the crowd Francis skins the cat, dangling on the outside of the ring and then pulling himself back up and into the ring.

 

“Yes what a recovery by Mak.”

 

Francis comes back behind Thor and latches onto him with a waist lock surprising the big bad God of Thunder. Francis sets up to hit a DANGEROUS GERMAN~ but The God of Thunder attempts to break the back waist lock with a back elbow – that gets dodged by the Franchise but it buys Thor enough time to execute a standing switch.

 

“Nice reversal from the God of Thunder.”

 

But before he can even go for his attack Francis rolls through grabbing Thor by the ankle and taking him down. “Yeah, Mak finally back in the swing of things!” Francis floats over top of the Thunder God from the halls of Asgard and proceeds to choke his lights out with a nasty modified sleeper that has been named the “Cobra Clutch”.

 

“Million Dollar Exemption! Million Dollar Exemption! MILLLION DOLLAR EXEMPTION!!”

 

Thor quickly rolls over onto his side causing the Franchise to pin himself to the mat by holding onto the sleeper hold. Sexton Hardcastle is on it quickly and makes the count.

 

ONE

 

 

TWO-

 

“And Francis release the hold getting his shoulders up off the mat.”

 

“Thor has been the master of counters so far as he’s ahead of Mak at every turn.”

 

The Franchise rolls out from under the Thunder God and rushes out of the ring, pushing Funyon out of his seat. Thor gets up daring him to get into the ring and Francis obligies after banging the chair against the ground twice for effect.

 

“Mak trying to make business pick up here…”

 

But Thor has different ideas as he grabs Francis by the throat as soon as he gets in the ring causing him to drop the chair over the top rope – but Francis score with a nut shot weakening the knees of Thor.

 

“Cheater always have a counter to that one!”

 

Thor hunches over a little and Francis moves behind him, a little close to the corner, setting up a back waist lock so that he can Backdrop Thor…

 

 

…

 

 

Onto the turnbuckle!!!

 

“And they damn sure win after moves like that.”

 

ONE

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE-

 

“HE KICKED OUT!”

 

“NO! Mak had this thing in the bag.”

 

Francis is irate and after a kick right to his head goes for the cover again…

 

ONE

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

“TWO” shouts Hardcastle and Francis is beyond irate. He rushes over to Hardcastle stating his case, which also involves shoving the referee around, giving Thor the time he needs to somewhat recover after that attack.

 

Thor uses the ropes to get up to his feet and Mak locks in the Cobra clutch from behind. A Francis attempts to suplex Thor over the top and onto his head – but Thor counters the sleeper holdby grabbing Francis’s left hand and yanking it down. The Franchise screams out in pain as Thor places his hand behind his back and nails him with a heart punch that completely stuns his opponent.

 

Francis can only grab his chest and hunch over in pain while he gets put into a stand head scissors and lifted up into the air driven into the mat with a powerbomb!

 

“Mak was able to counter the powerbomb last match but this time Thor hit.”

 

O

N

E

 

“And he lost his TV title to it. To my knowledge he has never kicked out of this move by Thor.”

 

 

T

W

O

 

 

 

 

 

 

T

 

H

 

R

 

E

 

E

 

“NO! Francis kicks out!”

 

“Thor has beaten Mak Francis from pillar to post mist of this match up exceot for some mat work and that very nasty backdrop onto the turnbuckle pad. Geez I still can’t get over how sick a move that was.”

 

“Yeah Francis just barely kicked out that time. He been beat almost this whole match.”

 

“But Mak always hits the one big move that wins it for him in the end.

 

Francis gets picked up by Thor for Gorilla press slam getting benched once twice three times. Thor holds the man over his head walking around for all to see getting a huge pop form the crowd…

 

“Thor been dominating the entire match but he should try to end this now. You never know when –

 

Before Francis gets out of his grasp and drops latching in a frint face lock and parleying that into a falling DDT.

 

“What a counter by Mak Francis. That Super DDT HAS TO BE IT!”

 

O

N

E

 

 

T

W

O

 

 

 

 

T

H

R

E

E

 

“NO THOR KICKED OUT!”

 

Mak just looks at the crowd not believing that this is actually happening. And after a loud “FUCK THIS SHIT” he dashes out of the ring and searches the ringside area. Finally he brings in the steel chair that he tried to used earlier. Thor is just up to his feet by the time Francis slides into the ring.

 

“And Mak Francis has flipped shit…”

 

“This is going to be fun!”

 

Francis lines up his back and swings for the fences getting a loud ** THWAAP ** from The God of Thunder’s back being introduced into that steel chair once again. Thor turns around feeling the chair shot but still able to shake it off when ** THWAAP ** once again rings out through the arena. This time caused by Francis’s baseball like cut at Thor’s noggin. ** THWAAP ** comes the sound again and after three chair shots Thor is still standing and actually telling the self proclaimed Franchise to bring it on.

 

“The comic book reject is just a glutton for punishment.”

 

And that he is as Thor gets absolutely blasted by the stiffest chair shot so far sending him down to one knee. But the God of Thunder is unrelenting in his quest to win and while Francis talks smack he starts to rise up from off his knee until ** THWAAAAP! ** the next chair shot comes stiffer than the last. This one sends Thor down onto the ground face first his head bleeding like he ate asprin before the fight. Francis just smile’s smugly for the first time this entire match until to his shock and the crowds Thor rises up, pushing himself off the mat. Mak just stares at him as he gets up again to one knee then up to his feet and finally stumbles towards ** THWAAAAAAAAP!! ** and gets knocked right back down. But Thor is not done as he gets up to his knee and receives ** THWAAAAAAAAP!! ** ** THWAAAAAAAAP!! ** TWO MORE CHAIRS SHOTS TO THE HEAD.

 

“That’s it he’s done Francis, just pin him.”

 

Hardcastle stands beside Francis urging him to stop this and go for the pin when…

 

“THOR IS GETTING UP AGAIN?!”

 

This time the God of Thunder is a little worse for wear but he is getting up, very slowly. And hi spride will not let him give up as he eggs on Francis.

 

“And look at that, he’s telling Mak to bring it again. HAH, he’s gonna die.”

 

Mak just smirks at him as he gets up again. Finally up to his feet and stumbles towards ** THWAAAAAAAAP!! ** scratch that thought as Thor gets hit so hard that he is now leaning on the Franchise for support. Hardcastle does attempt to tell Thor that it’s over. But even while leaning on Francis because off the numerous chair shots he’s taken, he won’t surrender.

 

“Thor showing more guts then brain here.”

 

Francis quickly shoves him off and Thor stumbles backward into the ropes tying himself up in them.

 

“The referee needs to stop this…”

 

“No not yet. Look at Thor he still has some fight left in him. Mak needs to kill that before this match is over!”

 

Francis walks up to Thor, who now has left small puddles of blood where he fell on the mat and beneath his body as he is tied up in the ropes. The Franchise just continues smiling talking smack…

 

Except for that last second before he swings the chair…

 

 

 

 

 

 

** CRAAAAAAAAAACK!!!! **

 

 

 

 

 

 

And breaks it over Thor’s head while Hardcastle tries to untangle him from the ropes. The chair just hangs around Thor’s neck as Hardcastle gets him free just a little too late. Thor hits the mat and Mak rolls him over onto his back by kicking him before dropping into a relaxed cover like he’s laying down on a Easy Chair™.

 

ONE

TWO

 

THREE!

 

Hardcastle quickly makes the count and that is the match.

 

“The winner of this match… “The Franchise” Mak Francis.”

 

“Well what a terrible note to end a show on. I hope Thor is okay. I’m Axis for Eddie Mac and The Suicide King -.

 

“All I have to say is Mak wins again. HAH!” interrupts King.

 

"Please I don't believe you. Shut up!”

 

“Well with those parting thoughts good night.”

 

“Wait, I still have more things to shill.” Yells King as Francis lays on Thor actually smiling after what he’s done. Metal comes to a close with the SJL sign in the bottom right corner.

[Guest HVilleThugg]

Summary

 

- CIA says some things about some stuff. Read it bitches.

 

Dillon vs Cutthroat

-In a shocker, Tim Dillon wins!

 

- The sWo are a bunch of dirty burning bitches. I think Flexxx is back, but I'm not sure. Who the fuck knows...

 

SINGLES MATCH

Judge Mental vs. Blank

- A high angle Boston Crab does in Blankman.

 

- Some tension in the sWo as Flexxx makes his return...

 

HARDCORE MATCH

Leon Sharpe vs. Jack The Ripper

- DA RIPPPPAAAAHHHHH...loses...to Sharpe...yeah.

 

EUROPEAN TITLE MATCH

Fugue © vs. Matt Myers

- New champ...Myers is a homo. It's a good thing there's no rest around here. He'll be defending soon.

 

NO DQ/INTERFERENCE MATCH

Mak Francis vs. Thor

- Some things happen, blows are exchanged...and the Franchise is still intact. Boohay.

 

Da "far too lazy to give a real summary tonight" H