Jump to content
TSM Forums
Sign in to follow this  
Guest HVilleThugg

From the Vault - Part 2

Recommended Posts

Guest HVilleThugg

The screen cuts in for SJL Wrathapalooza, but a small bumper in the corner of the screen reads ‘Earlier today’, cluing the viewers in to the fact that it might not be current footage. The shot does appear to be in Ash Ketchum’s backyard however, as Ben Hardy stands before the camera, framed in the back by the crew setting up the ring behind Ketchum’s palatial home.

 

“Mmm-hmm. Ahem. THIS is Ben Hardy. This IS Ben Hardy. This is… Gus, are you on for the test?”

 

Hardy looks towards the camera, and it bobbles up and down slightly, Gus’s voice easily heard. “Umm… yessir, it’s on, Mr. Hardy. Everything seems to be working properly. You want to run through the house show announcement clips now?”

 

Hardy nods, not noticing as Gus begins to stammer, as CIA enters the shot, off in the distance, standing next to the pool, which is still being drained of it’s water. “Oh, yeah, sure, Gus, let’s do that. I guess having a show at someone’s house makes for the perfect oppor….” Looking up, Hardy gets an odd look on his face. “You alright Gus? You’re all pale. Moreso than usual, I mean. Stop pointing at me, I see…. What?” Turning around, Hardy spots the SJL superstar waiting by the pool, and he begins to head over, approaching slowly. Gus follows without question, both men knowing not to pass up an interview opportunity. As they approach very close, CIA reaches into the pocket of his jacket, pulling something out. The camera zooms in, and catches the grappler sliding a cigarette free of a crumpled pack. Looking agitated, the Canadian turns towards the camera. “Well, Hardy? I didn’t know you would be here, but you are. You gonna ask your questions, or are you just gonna keep circling me, eh?”

 

Hardy quickly steps forward, standing next to CIA, and looking up to Gus. Getting a nod of affirmative, Hardy flashes his best fake announcer smile, and in his ‘professional voice’, speaks aloud. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am here with SJL superstar CIA, a man who will fight tonight for the World Heavyweight Championship. CIA, what exactly are you doing here at Ash Ketchum’s home, many hours before superstar arrival is scheduled to begin?”

 

CIA is silent for a moment, staring into the pool, and he tugs another object out of his pocket, a Zippo, with the old IGNWF logo on it. Chuckling, CIA doesn’t light the cigarette, but instead looks down at the lighter. “Old nervous habit. I know they’ll kill me, but when I’m stressed, I just have to spark one. You know, Hardy, I’ve been a fan of the people in this company for a long time. Longer than most folks around here know, eh? I’ve been a lot of things, but I’m an SJL Superstar now. Do you know what that means to me? Probably not. Sure, I still got a job to do, but a couple nights a week, I get in front of those cameras, and I do anything for the fans. I love every second of it. Tonight, hell, tonight’s no different, except for everything.”

 

Turning towards Hardy, CIA flicks the top of his lighter open, putting the cigarette in his mouth, and inhaling deeply, before snapping the lighter shut and sliding it back into his pocket. Looking out over the pool, CIA’s eyes seem unfocused, like he’s seeing what’s really there in front of him, but somehow he’s seeing something else as well. Taking another deep drag on the cigarette, CIA turns towards the camera again. “Tonight I fight for the world title, eh? You know what that means? That means I’m the best. In this whole place, for at least one minute, I’m the very best. And it’s not in the ring, eh? No, couldn’t be so simple. I’m going to get hurt, tonight, Hardy. Renegade’s good. Hell, he’s great, eh? So what’s it all come down to? Me and him, tonight, right here. I’m nervous, eh, but I’m gonna do my best. I’m gonna leave a little bit of myself behind, eh, and I hope to take away the biggest prize there is.”

 

Sitting down next to the pool, CIA looks down at the water as it continues to drain away, leaving nothing behind but the cold concrete walls, and, in the shallow end, the floor he may well be bouncing off of. Turning his head, he looks over at the diving board, that same horrid blue color diving boards always are. Smirking a bit at that thought, CIA takes a last drag on his cigarette, flicking it into the pool before him, watching it hit the water, bright red burner extinguished in an instant. Will that be him tonight, an empty husk, fire gone for good? Or will he blaze on, even brighter, only to one-day burn out. This business would claim him one day, surely. So maybe tonight he shouldn’t worry about that. Maybe he should worry about winning. Smiling, the Canadian turns towards Ben Hardy. “So I’m here to think, Hardy. I’m here to learn the territory. I’m here to know better what I can do in that giant, empty mass of air surrounded by concrete, eh? And I answered your question, so I’d prefer to be left alone to do it. Unless you want to learn to swim, eh?”

 

Hardy smiles and laughs, waving a hand towards the pool. “But CIA, the pool is almost empty. A guy could get killed jumping in now. Why, it’d take a real moron….” Seeing the wrestler’s eyes glaring up at him from behind the reds and whites of his mask, a real threatening glare, Hardy gets the idea, slowly moving to another part of the yard. Looking back at the camera, Ben Hardy takes a moment, looking curiously at Gus again. “What th…. Oh! This is Ben Hardy, for SJL TV, and I’ve just been talking to CIA. Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, Hell in a Swimming Pool. Be sure not to miss it!

 

With that, the camera cuts back to a distance shot of CIA, merely sitting down at the edge of the pool, and looking out over it, but not seeming to hear anyone around him. Promptly, the image fades to black.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest HVilleThugg

The Card

 

Singles Match

Cutthroat vs. Kamikaze

- A new wrestler makes his debut in the SJL in the form of the deranged, unstable Kamikaze. He'll be in Ash's backyard tonight against a returning Cutthroat. Ash will be marking this match, the only payment he's requesting for the use of his backyard (and in retrospect, I think we got off light)

 

Hide and Seek Match - SJL Television Championship

Thor © vs. "The Rising Sun" Y2K

- It's a little known fact that Ash Ketchum was the last man to hold the IGNML Television Championship before the ML and JL merged. That means that IGNML TV belt is somewhere in Ash's house! Thor won the TV title on Metal and will defend it here. Here are the rules. Thor, Y2K, and a referee (and NO ONE ELSE) will be allowed inside Ash's mansion, where the ML Television belt is hidden somewhere inside. This match is no disqualifications, as the only way to win the match is to find that hidden TV belt, and exit the house with the belt in your hand. The winner will be the SJL Television Champion. (And he'll have to return the ML belt to Ash afterward -- sorry, guys.)

 

Singles Match

"Insane Luchadore" Andrew Rickmen vs. Fugue

- Insane Luchador shocked the SJL on Metal with his return and subsequent victory of the hardcore legend (and two-time IGNJL commissioner) Grimedogg. The True Plague wants his shot at the World title, but to prove his worth, tonight he goes up against Fugue, who made it to the semifinals of the title tournament. Oh yeah, and it'll all be in Ash's backyard.

 

INTERMISSION

Commentator Pie Eating Contest

Axis vs. Edwin MacPhisto vs. Suicide King

Special Guest Judge: Sydney Sky

- First robots, and now this? A makeshift commentary table is set up next to the ring, and during this break in the actual wrestling, your three faithful SJL commentators will put their reputations on the line as they participate in the SJL's first ever Pie Eating Contest. Nothing at stake here, just good clean fun. You don't have to write if you don't want to, but hopefully at least one person will get a match in. Sydney Sky also has the option to write a match if she can find the time.

 

Singles (non-title) Match

"The Franchise" Mak Francis vs. T-Bone

- "Franchise" suffered a major setback to his career on Storm, losing both his TV and European titles in the space of one match. Tonight, in Ash's backyard, he'll get revenge on the bastard that took his European title.

 

MAIN EVENT

SJL World Championship Match (Tournament Final)

Hell in a Swimming Pool Match

C.I.A. vs. Renegade

- The tournament has culminated in this match, and after Tuesday, we'll have our first JL World champion since Danny Williams vacated the title. Ash Ketchum was kind enough to spend the day draining his Olympic-size in-ground swimming pool for this event, so the two finalists will be wrestling inside the empty pool, which should make for a brutal contest. You can leave the pool if you want, but keep in mind that pinfalls or submissions must be scored inside the pool.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest HVilleThugg

King: “No pyro, no lights, no stage, no show! We can’t do this!”

Axis: “Ash was kind enough to let us use his back yard, live through one night.”

Edwin: “I think we’re ready to go.”

King: “No, we can’t go! I’m not doing this.”

Axis: “Okay, King.”

 

The Suicide King leans back in his chair at the commentator’s table, folding his arms across his chest. Both Axis and Edwin glance to a camera and paste huge smiles on their faces as the small light near the microphone turns red..

 

Axis: “Welcome to Wrathapalooza!”

Edwin: “We’re here, tonight, in Ash Ketchum’s backyard, bringing you an action packed night of fun and violence!”

Axis: “He didn’t mean that..”

Edwin: “The Ice Palace execs sure think so.”

Axis: “That’s right. If, by some chance, you didn’t catch our last edition, we’ll show you exactly why we’re in SWFer Ash Ketchum’s backyard.”

 

The picture changes abruptly into the last minutes of Metal with ‘LAST THURSDAY’ in the bottom corner. Edwin is shown at his desk, happily stamping two contracts with the ‘no-go.’ The phone rings and Edwin picks it up after a moment of disbelief.

 

Edwin: "MacPhisto, SJL Commissioner's Office, serving pancakes all night. Can I help you?"

Axis: "Eddie Mac, it's Axis!"

Edwin: "Axis, what's the trouble, man? Something amiss?"

Axis: "Damn right there is. I just got off the phone with a representative from the Ice Palace in Tampa, Florida."

Edwin: "Yeah... and...?"

Axis: "Apparently one of the arena's owners caught their kids watching Metal tonight, caught sight of some of the violent content of the show, and freaked out!"

Edwin: "Violent? Are you sure they weren't just bored from watching the Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots challenge?"

Axis: "Eddie, I'm serious here! They called the arena and they immediately pulled out of their contract with us! We're banned from the venue indefinitely!"

Edwin: "WHAT?! Can they DO that?"

Axis: "Apparently they can."

Edwin: "Cripes. What are we going to do now? We can't change the venue this close to the air date. Half the roster already has plane tickets booked to Tampa!"

 

Edwin sets the phone on his desk and contemplates the situation.

 

Edwin: "How the hell are we going to pull this off.. Wait a second.. Tampa?"

 

Edwin quickly picks the phone back up.

 

Edwin: “Axis, I'm going to let you go, I've got a call to make. We just might have a show after all."

 

The shot cuts back to real time Tampa. The crowd is rambunctious and the Suicide King is nowhere in sight.

 

Edwin: “I told you I could do it!”

Axis: “You did a fine job, no matter what King says.”

 

The lights on the scaffolding around the large stands brighten and focus on the ring as Funyon raises a microphone.

 

Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to Wrathapalooza! Hosted by SWF’s very own.. Ash Ketchum!!”

 

The crowd cheers as Ash stands from his seat in the front row and waves to the fans. The Poke-champ holds his arms out in grandiose gesture and asks the crowd.

 

Ash: “How do you like them apples?!”

 

The Tampa-St. Pete around fans roar with applause as the SWFer sits back in his spot, a smug grin on his face. The camera shot focuses back in on the announce team, minus the Suicide King. The Australian announcer opens his mouth to say something but is cut off by the state-of-the-art sound system set up on Ash Ketchum’s back porch. A loud thunderclap booms as Our Lady Peace’s “Whatever” blares from the speakers.

 

Axis: “Fine.”

 

The crowd cheers uproariously as a spotlight scans the crowd, and finally affixes on Cutthroat as he makes his way through a sea of fans. The people closest to the superstar pat him on the back as he passes and several get hand slaps from Cutthroat as he makes his way to the ring.

 

Funyon: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, making his way to the ring, weighing in at two hundred and fourteen pounds, from Greenwich, Connecticut.. Cutthroat!!”

 

A decidedly female scream follows the announcement as Cutthroat slides into the ring. He stands and climbs to the second rope, throwing his arms up as the cheers swell again. Cutthroat takes off his shirt and drapes it over the turnbuckle, allowing him to slide his sunglasses off and launch them into the crowd. One lucky fan snatches them from the air and shows off her prize for the camera. Our Lady Peace fades from the speakers and a short silence follows. Godsmack’s “I Stand Alone” begins playing over the speakers, arousing a soft cheer from the nu-metal bands’ fans in the audience. The spotlight searches the audience, finding Kamikaze entering from the opposite side of the ring.

 

Funyon: “And his challenger, making his debut in the Junior League.. weighing in at two hundred and thirty five pounds, from Minnetonka, Minnesota.. Kamikaze!!”

 

Edwin: “Yet another n00b making his debut against the resilient Cutthroat.”

Axis: “I’m sure this match will jump-start Kamikaze’s career..”

Edwin: “Or maybe even Cutthroat’s.”

 

The newest talent in the SJL climbs into the ring and ascends the turnbuckle, throwing his arms out and his head back, shouting at the fans.

 

Kam: “KAAMIKAAAZEE!!”

 

Funyon exits the ring as “I Stand Alone” fades from the speakers. A moment of silence passes before the bell rings, signaling the start of the match. Cutthroat bounces around, warming up as he keeps an eye on Kamikaze. The n00b hops off the turnbuckle and snaps his head around to take a good look at his opponent. He begins mouthing off and a nearby cameraman edges closer to pick up exactly what Kamikaze is saying.

 

Kam: “..can’t believe you’ve hots for him.”

 

Axis: “Who’s he talking to?”

Edwin: “According to his chart.. I mean, records, her name is Maria.”

Axis: “So he is looney.”

Edwin: “Maybe a little goofy. But we all know there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

 

MacPhisto grins before the camera cuts back to the action in the ring, where Cutthroat and Kamikaze have locked up in a collar and elbow hold. Kamikaze overpowers the lighter Cutthroat and pulls him into a headlock. The slick lightweight slips out of Kamikaze’s grip and reverses the headlock into a hammerlock. Kamikaze yelps and edges forward with the painful maneuver. Cutthroat pushes the n00b away and into the ropes. Kam ricochets back toward Cutthroat, who deftly leaps over a ducking Kamikaze. Cutthroat spins to receive Kamikaze on his second rebound, but instead gets a solid shoulder jammed into his collarbone, knocking him flat on his back.

 

Axis: “Kamikaze with a strong shoulderblock to Cutthroat.”

Edwin: “That hurt my shoulder!”

Axis: “Goof.”

 

Kamikaze makes a running start to the ropes, bounces off for momentum, but skips over Cutthroat as the ‘Extreme One’ rolls to his stomach. As Kamikaze continues his motion into the opposite ropes, Cutthroat gets to his feet and jump spins around, landing a nasty back kick square in Kamikaze’s mouth.

 

Axis: “It seems really odd without King here to moan and groan about Cutthroat.”

Edwin: “Perfectly fine with me! It’s about time Cutthroat got some praise for the things he does for the other wrestlers.”

Axis: “Cutthroat with the advantage..”

 

Cutthroat reaches down, picking up a slightly dizzy Kamikaze by his hair. Cutthroat quickly hefts up Kamikaze and slams him down in a slightly strained scoop slam. Cutthroat floats over for the first pinfall attempt of the evening. The ref slides to the mat to count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

Ref: “Two!”

 

The ref holds up two fingers after Kamikaze easily lifts a shoulder. Again, Cutthroat raises Kamikaze to his feet. Cutthroat lets loose with a flurry of quick punches, though each has the strength and preciseness behind them to be considered Razor Punches. Kamikaze stumbles backward and into the ropes. Cutthroat sets Kamikazes’ arms on the ropes, leaving his chest bare. A sickening smack follows as Cutthroat lays an open hand across Kamikaze’s skin.

 

Crowd: “Woo!”

 

Smack!

 

Crowd: “Woo!”

 

Kamikaze hunches over, covering his bruised chest. Cutthroat grabs Kamikaze by the wrist and whips him across the ring. Kamikaze rebounds off the ropes and right into Cutthroat’s sleeper hold. Kam flails as Cutthroat tenses his muscles, constricting the n00b. A few seconds later, Cutthroat drops to his stomach, dropping Kamikaze onto his back. The more seasoned of the wrestlers floats over and hooks a leg for the pin.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

Kamikaze forces a shoulder up, breaking the count. The referee signals two and stands as Cutthroat shakes his head. Again, Cutthroat hauls Kamikaze to his feet. With a quick step back, Cutthroat kicks Kamikaze in the face, dropping him back to the mat. Cutthroat jogs toward the ropes, rebounds off for momentum, then somersaults forward and flips, landing his back onto Kamikaze’s exposed midsection.

 

Axis: “Nice Rolling Thunder from Cutthroat.”

Edwin: “This guy doesn’t seem to be able to do much..”

Axis: “I can’t believe I just said something nice about Cutthroat.”

Edwin: “Hey, look which neighborhood seething egomaniac decided to return to his job.”

Axis: “King?”

 

Cutthroat makes another pinfall attempt, to which Kamikaze kicks out once again. Cutthroat stands and makes a plea to the fans, as if they could guide him to a win in this matchup. Kamikaze slowly makes his way to his feet, shaking his head as he does. As if getting a light bulb turned on over his head, Cutthroat charges Kamikaze. The n00b stiffens slightly, glances over his shoulder, and grabs Cutthroat in a quick arm drag, slamming him to the mat. Instead of releasing Cutthroat, Kamikaze keeps hold of his arm, locking on a shoulder hold. Cutthroat yelps in pain.

 

King: “You’ll have to excuse my absence.”

Edwin: “No, I don’t think we have to.”

Axis: “Did you bring me one?”

King: “You one what?”

Axis: “The drink..”

Edwin: “Oh, does Ash know you raided his wet bar?”

King: “As if I would ever need his permission..”

 

The Suicide King settles back in his seat, taking a sip of his Lynchburg Lemonade. The action in the ring comes out of its stalemate as Cutthroat rallies cheers from the crowd and fights out of the shoulder lock. Cutthroat finally breaks Kamikaze’s hold away, and throws a couple stiff Razor Punches, knocking Kamikaze back. Cutthroat grabs hold of Kamikaze and whips him toward the ropes. Kam reverses, and Cutthroat rebounds back, only to fall face first toward the mat as Kamikaze catches him in a drop toe hold. Cutthroat realizes he is ill positioned as his neck lands across the bottom rope.

 

Edwin: “Yowza. Cutthroat didn’t see that coming.”

Axis: “Did you?”

King: “This new guy has style.”

Edwin: “If it’s anything like yours, I’m worried.”

 

Cutthroat rolls away from the ropes and onto his back, holding his neck as he gasps for air. Kamikaze moves to the turnbuckle and backs onto the second rope. He’s about to dive off, when something catches his eye. Kamikaze freezes and stares menacingly into the crowd, but focused on something a little closer. He then smiles wide, revealing pearly whites, and leaps off, landing a leg drop over Cutthroat’s sore neck.

 

Axis: “Kamikaze with a leg drop from the second rope.. who was he glaring at?”

Edwin: “Maria, of course!”

King: “Maria?”

Edwin: “The Spanish rose in Kamikaze’s garden!”

Axis: “She’s the ex-girlfriend, apparently.”

King: “I don’t see anyone who could resemble Maria.. If there were such a delightful creature, she’d surely be fawning over me.”

 

The Suicide King takes a sip of his drink and grins smugly at Edwin. The Carnie just shrugs. Another pinfall attempt is cut short as Cutthroat raises a shoulder. Kamikaze and Cutthroat stand simultaneously. The two square off, Kamikaze reaching for a collar and elbow lockup, while Cutthroat avoids and swiftly kicks Kam to the midsection. The crowd raises a cheer as their favorite grabs Kamikaze up and over in an easy snap suplex. Both men again stand and square off again, this time Kamikaze gains the advantage. The heavier of the wrestlers picks up Cutthroat in an endless suplex, slamming him back to the mat after about three seconds of hang time.

 

Axis: “Kamikaze lands a nice stalling suplex.”

Edwin: “It’s the suplex wars! Run!”

King: “God, I wish you’d get a lobotomy.”

 

Cutthroat is slow to gain his feet after the back jarring suplex. But as Kamikaze attempts a collar and elbow, Cutthroat darts around and grabs Kam for a quick belly-to-belly suplex! Kamikaze rolls in pain, but makes his way to his feet. Cutthroat approaches Kam and receives a punch to the midsection. Kamikaze stands fully and sets up for yet another suplex, but reaches down and grabs Cutthroat by the leg, then hauls him up and over in a Fisherman’s suplex.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

Cutthroat worms out of the pinfall, leaving both wrestlers panting on the mat.

 

Edwin: “It’s like watching tennis!”

Axis: “This is so much more exciting..”

King: “Axis finally admits that Cutthroat is exciting!”

Axis: “I didn’t say Cutthroat was exciting.”

King: “You meant it.”

Axis: “How would you know?”

King: “I can read your mind..”

 

The King makes a mystic hand gesture at Axis as the Australian raises a brow. The combatants in the ring have slowly made their way to their feet. The crowd cheers behind Cutthroat, chanting his name.

 

Crowd: “Cut-throat! Cut-throat!”

 

Kam: “Yer supposed to cheer for me, Maria!”

 

Kamikaze stumbles to the ropes, reaching over toward thin air. Distraught, he runs a shaking hand through his scraggly hair. Cutthroat takes the opportunity to ascend the turnbuckle, waiting for Kamikaze like a spider baiting a fly. Kamikaze shakes his head and stumbles back from the ropes, turning toward Cutthroat.

 

King: “How did this guy manage to get into the SJL?”

Edwin: ”Through the door, I’d imagine.”

King: “He’s a basket case. Pure psycho.”

Axis: “He’s about to see stars..”

 

Kam: “Stop laughin-“

 

The n00b falls back as Cutthroat lands a precise dropkick. Cutthroat jumps up and raises his arms to the crowd, arousing a cheer. He gives a signal and then hunches in wait for Kamikaze to stand. The nutcase obliges him, but makes his way slowly to his feet, murmuring the whole time. Cutthroat jumps into action as Kamikaze turns just the perfect way.

 

Edwin: “KICK! WHAM!..”

Axis: “NO! Kamikaze shoves Cutthroat away, denying the Mac Stunner!”

 

Cutthroat bounces off the ropes and heads toward Kamikaze with great speed, only to be caught into a never-ending powerslam! The ground nearly shakes with the power and emphasis put into the huge move by Kamikaze. The nutball grabs up one of Cutthroats’ legs as the referee slides in for the count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

Ref: “Two!! Two!”

 

The referee holds up two fingers as Cutthroat manages to kick out of the pinfall attempt. The crowd goes wild, cheering their favorite to keep going, to make some sort of comeback. But the wild look in Kamikazes’ eyes signals that probably won’t happen. With a flourish, Kam pulls out a white bandana from his waistband and quick straps the kerchief around his forehead.

 

Edwin: “I think Kamikaze is about to sacrifice himself for this match.”

King: “Not very bright if you ask me.”

Edwin: “I didn’t.”

Axis: “It is a little early for Kamikaze to be risking his career.”

 

As soon as the bandana is in place, Kamikaze makes a run for the corner, hopping onto the second rope with his right foot, ascending to the top rope with his left foot, then jumping into the air. Midflight, Kamikaze twists and spreads his arms as he yells.

 

Kam: “KAMIKAZEE!!”

 

Kamikaze lands a diving headbutt seconds later. Both Cutthroat and Kam roll away, holding their perspective wounds. Kamikaze suddenly rises to his knees, shakes his head violently and crawls toward Cutthroat. With a sway, Kamikaze falls over Cutthroat’s chest.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

The referee signals and the bell rings as the fans cheer (some boo). “I Stand Alone” kicks up over the speakers as Funyon announces the obvious.

 

Funyon: “Your winner by pinfall.. Kamikaze!!”

 

The ref helps stand Kamikaze up and raises his arm in victory. Kamikaze smiles crookedly and raises both arms.

 

Kam: “WOOOHOOO! I’m better! ME!”

 

King: “Now that’s something I like to hear..”

Axis: “He’s not talking to you.”

King: “But he’s talking like me. Imitation is the most sincere form of flattery.”

Edwin: “The only thing that flatters are your gums in the wind!”

Axis: “Next up, Thor and “The Rising Sun” Y2K run amok in Ash’s mansion!”

Edwin: “Oh, that I could play with Ash’s crystal chandelier..”

King: “And he says my gums flap..”

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest HVilleThugg

(A camera focuses in on the front door of Ash Ketchum's Tampa, Florida mansion. The door opens and out walks SJL wrestler, "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins, in a big white robe, wearing slippers, and a pipe in his mouth.)

 

HSJ: Hey, the show is in the back...Oh wait. Its you guys. Cool. Well,...MTV Cribs, welcome to my crib...

 

(Hollywood opens the door wide, and lets the cameraman in. The cameraman follows Hollywood into Ash's living room.)

 

HSJ: Well, this is my living room. When I have parties, we usually hang out in here. Over there is the mini bar....

 

Cameraman: Hey, that's all chocolate milk.

 

HSJ: ............

 

(Hollywood stares at the cameraman with a blank look on his face.)

 

HSJ: Yeah, well I, uhhh, been meaning to change that....anyway....That is my big screen TV.

 

Cameraman: Why are there pictures colored all over the side's of the TV?

 

HSJ: Uhh, my little cousin! Yeah, he comes over here, and he draws all over things....

 

Cameraman: Hey, what's that little yellow thing on that table over there?

 

(Hollywood looks at the little Pikachu doll on the coffee table in front of the big leather couch.)

 

HSJ: Uhhh....

 

(Hollywood grabs the doll off the table and throws it through a window on the other side of the room.)

 

HSJ: I dont know what you are talking about....Lets go to the kitchen.

 

(Hollywood and the cameraman walk through the rest of the living room, and into the kitchen.)

 

HSJ: Over there is my fridge....

 

Cameraman: What is with the Pokemon pictures on the fridge?

 

HSJ: ..........., What's with all the questions?

 

Cameraman: Is this even your house?

 

HSJ: What do you think?

 

Cameraman: That its not....

 

HSJ: Yeah well.....

 

(Hollywood blinks a bit, thinking on what to do.)

 

HSJ: Uhhh, lets go to the master bedroom.

 

Cameraman: Hey, what's going on in the back yard?

 

HSJ: Wrestling show.

 

Cameraman: Cool, can I go watch?

 

HSJ: No...

 

Cameraman: Why not?

 

HSJ: Because I'm not wrestling, Duh.

 

(HSJ walks down a hall, with the cameraman following him. They walk up a flight of stares and walk up to a room with a star that says "ASH" on it.)

 

HSJ: I guess this is it....

 

Cameraman: You don't even know where "your" master bedroom is? And why does it say Ash?

 

HSJ: Because.....HEY LOOK AT THAT

 

(Hollywood points off to some direction, but the cameraman just stares at him.)

 

HSJ: Hmmm, that didn't work......Lets go into the room.

 

(Hollywood opens the door and walks in, followed by the cameraman. The whole room is covered in Pokemon stuff.)

 

Cameraman: What the fuck....

 

HSJ: You know....second thought....this isn't my house.

 

Cameraman: No duh.

 

(Suddenly, a loud bang is heard, as Hollywood and the Cameraman turn to Ash who is standing in the doorway.)

 

HSJ: Oh, uhhhh, Hey Ash....

 

Ash: WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY BEDROOM?

 

HSJ: I was uhh.....

 

Cameraman: Uh oh....

 

Ash: IM GONNA HURT YOU!

 

(Ash runs towards Hollywood, but Hollywood jumps on Ash's bed.)

 

Ash: AHHHHHHHH GET OFF MY BED! THOSE ARE SILK POKEMON SHEETS. MADE SPECIAL FOR ME IN JAPAN!

 

HSJ: Man, your a loser....

 

Ash: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

 

(Ash dives at Hollywood, but Hollywood jumps off the bed. Hollywood runs around Ash, and runs out the room. The cameraman follows, but trips, dropping the camera on the floor.)

 

Cameraman: Spike! Don't leave me!

 

(Hollywood runs back to the Cameraman, and lifts him to his feet)

 

Cameraman: What about the camera?

 

HSJ: LEAVE IT!

 

(The camera shows HSJ and the Cameraman run down the hall and down the stairs. Soon Ash runs past the camera, running down the halls and down the stairs.)

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest HVilleThugg

The camera shows the masses of fans who are gathered outside the humble abode (mansion) of SWF Superstar Ash Ketchum. They are seated on folding chairs, lawn chairs, each other’s shoulders, the ground, whatever is available. The scene looks like Woodstock... except these fans are not craving peace and love, they are craving death and destruction. There are fans everywhere except for a small roped off bit of Ash’s backyard containing his house, a wrestling ring, and his swimming pool which has been drained for tonight’s main event.

 

Near the ring, seated at a rather hastily assembled looking announcers table our commentators await. The plump and always insightful Aussie Axis, the jolly and zany commissioner of the SJL Edwin MacPhisto, and the breaker of hearts and rules alike, you know him you love him... you go through a phase where you don’t love him so much, but you don’t dare tell him of your feelings... so you marry him, you bear his children, and you live out the rest of your life suffering from his cold and silent indifference... The Suicide King.

 

Axis: Hello ladies and gentlemen to SJL Wrath! We have a splendiferous show tonight, including this next match. We have the newly crowned Television champion Thor, facing his opponent from Crimson last week, “The Rising Sun” Y2K for the title in a hide and seek match.

 

Edwin: My unique knowledge of the past has granted me the opportunity to enlighten the people tonight. Back in the old days, the days of the IGNML, Ash Ketchum was the last TV champion before the ML and the JL merged. Ash was allowed to keep the ML belt, as a token of appreciation before being bumped up to bigger and better things. Ash keeps the belt here, in his palatial mansion in Tampa, Florida. Ash has hidden the belt well in his home and it is that very belt that our two competitors will be questing for tonight.

 

King: And it is this match that I am absolutely in protest of! It is a travesty of wrestling, having a respected competitor like Y2K “wrestling” under these conditions.

 

Axis: And what about Thor? He scored a big victory over Mak Francis on Metal to obtain the coveted Television championship.

 

King: Coveted shmoveted! He should have went for the big time, the European championship if he wanted to get anywhere!

 

Edwin: Well be that as it may Thor is still the champ, and defending his prize against Y2K here tonight.

 

The colossal SmarkTron, hanging above the ring by two helicopters, shows the fans the action. It shows Thor and Y2K both on the back patio of Ash’s house, amidst top of the line lawn chairs and beautifully done brick paving, the referee gives instructions to the two warriors as they prepare themselves for what is certainly going to be a war. The referee finishes his speech and he then opens the sliding glass door, permitting entrance to the mansion. Both wrestlers step warily into the house, and as they stand eyeing each other, the referee slides the glass door shut and signals informally that the match has begun. For a moment the wrestlers stand, taking in the plush amenities of the Ketchum home. They are in a coat room of sorts, where people are instructed to leave or wipe their shoes before entering the house.

 

Y2K has had enough of the scenery and decides to redecorate by slamming Thor’s head into the wall. Thor bounces right back though and whips him through the opposite doorway and Y2K trips on a lone step up into the rest of the house, as he must not have read the sign commanding the passersby to “Watch Your Step”. Thor takes advantage of the situation and steps through the entrance and grabs Y2K by his spiked hair gently escorting him through a short hallway, adorned with various pictures of Ketchum’s accomplishments. They show Ash with various titles, standing with various wrestlers, memories of long past, and not quite forgotten. As the two fighters pass the hallway, they enter the main living room, where Ash no doubt entertains his guests. Thor attempts to smash Y2K into a china cabinet, showcasing priceless keepsakes and family heirlooms, but Y2K stops Thor short and punches him in the face. Thor just looks at Y2K, not budging an inch and whips Y2K in the opposite direction and he goes flying and crashes over an Italian leather sofa, flipping over it and landing in front of it.

 

Axis: Well, this is a very... unorthodox match to say the least. Both competitors are taken out their element when they are forced to fight in the backdrop of Ash Ketchum’s lovely home.

 

Edwin: I don’t think that Ash fully understood the potential consequences of his allowing these two men to fight here tonight. These guys are gonna break everything in sight, including each other!

 

King: This match contains noting but total carnage and bedlam, no real wrestling involved.

 

Edwin: Right up your alley King!

 

Thor walks to the other side of the sofa and assists Y2K to his feet, but Y2K punches Thor in the stomach with several rapid rights and lefts until he staggers the big man. He takes the opportunity and gets to his feet and dropkicks Thor, knocking him back and sitting in an armchair. Y2K goes to some of the cabinets that are above the marble fireplace and opens them, in hopes of finding the ML TV title. Thor regains his composure and gets to his feet. He walks over to Y2K and slams his head viciously into the fireplace. Y2K falls to his knees but is aware enough to make the situation better for himself. He reaches behind him and gets an iron fire poker, and he gives a quick strike to the knee of Thor, causing him to collapse in a heap holding his knee in agony. Y2K, rather than take further advantage of his opponent, decides that he is now subdued and immobilized enough to search some more for the title.

 

He wanders and goes back into the hallway he came from and goes to the opposite end. He comes to a guest bedroom and looks inside, he searches in the drawers and the closets, whipping out the extra towels and linens, he then flips the bed over, but to no avail, the title is not in the spare bedroom. Discouraged he walks further down that same hallway and comes to a bathroom, surely a splendid place to hide. Who would think enough to look in the bathroom? Y2K would. He is determined to search every crevasse and every nook in the mansion to finally gain some dignity and respect with the Television title. After searching the entire bathroom top to bottom, he exits and walks back down the hallway to the living room.

 

Axis: A shot to the knee of Thor with an iron poker, by that sadistic Y2K.

 

Edwin: Y2K is determined to get that title by any means necessary, searching every room and every possible cranny in the mansion.

 

King: Hopefully Y2K can find the title quickly and completely lay waste to Thor. I’m getting sick of this guy, walking around speaking in his “Ye Olde English”.

 

“The Rising Sun” enters the living room and looks to find his enemy, but he is no where to be seen. Y2K begins to get a bit nervous and his face expresses his feeling, but he goes on with searching. He walks to the other side of the living room and looks in a cabinet, it contains nothing but DVDs, Y2K turns around but is caught by Thor with a brutal clothesline, smashing him into the cabinet. Thor who is limping a bit from the shot with the iron poker, slams Y2K into the other end of that room, his head smashing on one of the 8x10 glossy photos of Ash, hanging neatly in a frame. The glass breaks and Y2K lets out an uncharacteristic shriek of pain as the glass digs deep into his flesh.

 

Thor walks down the hallway, almost dragging Y2K by the hair, and comes to Ash’s breakfast nook. There is nothing in their but a table and several chairs. Thor shoves Y2K down in the room and goes to leave but Y2K has grabbed an oak dining room chair and, grasping it by the back legs, Y2K smashes it into Thor’s back. Thor drops to one knee but then gets right back up and turns around staring at Y2K, fire in his eyes. Thor clubs his opponent in the face with his big soup bone of an arm causing him to drop the chair and then tucks his head between his legs. Thor lifts him up, so that Y2K is sitting on his shoulders, but Y2K fights back with rights to Thor’s head. Thor only smiles as he brings “The Rising Sun” down full force onto the sturdy oak table. One of its legs gets a crack in it but the table stands strong.

 

Edwin: Wow, a powerbomb onto the oak table and the table no-sells the powerbomb!

 

Axis: Indeed, tremendous fortitude by the table but I can’t say the same for Y2K, he is out!

 

King: Just because their big they think they can no-sell anything. Damn table...

 

Thor, satisfied in his accomplishment, leaves the breakfast nook. He wanders outside and goes down the hallway, he comes to a game room, there are life sized Pokeballs all mounted trophy style around the room, several golden Pokeballs with plaques by them, showcasing some tremendous win in a Pokemon card game tournament no doubt. Standard game room equipment around. A pool table with pool balls, custom made to look like Pokeballs, all racked up and ready for a game. A pinball machine, Pokemon themed of course. A giant wide screen TV, perfectly suitable for relaxing with the boys or just watching the game. And even at the far end a bowling lane, with an electronic scorecard.

 

Thor walks around and looks in the entertainment center cabinets, only top of the line game systems to be played for full enjoyment in surround sound. Thor spies the Playstation 2, and briefly considers checking to see what games Ash has, but then the task at hand strikes him like a ton of bricks as Y2K cracks a pool stick over his back. Y2K is bloody but very much aware, as he starts to lay the boots to Thor, trying to get the God of Thunder to stay down. Y2K yanks the X-Box from its plugs and smashes Thor in the head with it. Y2K then gets a wicked idea and tips Ash’s big screen TV onto Thor. The glass breaks with an ear splitting crash. Thor lies under the larger than life TV, motionless.

 

King: Man, the more I see this Y2K in action, the more I like his style.

 

Axis: That TV crashing down onto Thor, he’s got to be hurting after that. Perhaps a bit of payback from Y2K for cutting him open.

 

Edwin is talking on his cell phone making prank calls to the officials at the Ice Palace in Tampa, Florida.

 

Edwin: Yeah that’s right, I did that to your mother, and you can tell her she’s WELCOME!! *he hangs up and realizes Axis and King are looking at him* Oh I’m sorry... I had to take that call.

 

Y2K laughs sinisterly and walks to the pool table, removes the rack from around the balls and picks up a stick. He offhandedly remarks “Oh its ok Thor, don’t get up, I’ll break!” followed by chuckle of laughter. He shoots the cue ball at the other balls and they go off in different directions, some falling in the pockets. He yells “Yeah!” at his own success and then tosses the stick at Thor, who is still under the crushing weight of that TV. Y2K laughs as he exits the game room. On his way out Thor can be seen struggling beneath the Television set. Y2K walks back into the living room and goes up the half spiral staircase into the second floor.

 

The first room at the top of the stairs is Ash’s bedroom. He opens the door to discover that his room is probably the least extravagant in the whole house. It is simply a plain beige room, with an ordinary bed, a small balcony, and a single dresser. Y2K goes to the dresser and looks in every drawer, but they contain no championship belt. He then goes to the single closet in the room and starts whipping out shirts, elegant shirts, all custom made for the delight of Ash Ketchum. Still no ML TV belt is in sight. He hears a crashing noise and he says to himself “Ahhh, Sleeping Beauty must be awake!”

 

King: Sleeping Beauty! HAHA!! That was great!

 

Axis: Well sleeping beauty I can assure you he wont be. Thor is more than likely mad and really craving that TV belt.

 

Edwin: He’ll be more like that angry troll from the Harry Potter movie.

 

Axis and King look at each other but have known Edwin too long to be surprised by anything he says.

 

Y2K leaves the room and looks down over the guard rail, to the floor below and sees Thor storming around the living room. Y2K then steps up onto the guard rail and waits until Thor is standing by the sofa beneath him. Thor walks to the sofa and almost instinctively looks up just as Y2K is leaping off the railing with a moonsault, a legitimate fifteen feet. Y2K lands perfectly on the back of the sofa, perhaps breaking a rib or two in the process. His feet just barely kicked Thor but Y2K landed about two feet too short. Thor just looks at Y2K and then goes up the stairs to the second floor. He looks in Ash’s room and seeing the room more or less torn apart, he walks to the end of the hallway and goes in the room. The lights are off and there are no windows in the room.

 

Thor steps inside and turns on the lights. What he sees is both frightening and fascinating at the same time. Ash took the time and the effort to position perhaps hundreds of Pokemon plush toys in one giant battle. The creatures all are performing their special maneuvers made evident by blasts of energy carefully cut out of construction paper and held by fishing line in place. This soft fluffy battlefield of death makes Thor exit the room as quickly as he enters, not wanting to disturb the plush warfare inside. Thor just chuckles to himself and walks towards the end of the hallway and opens up a door, that is padded with red leather. He looks inside and the lights are very low, there is soft slow jazz playing in the background. The walls are tiger-stripped and there is a lone short bed at the end, draped in red fabric. The mini bar at the side of the room gives it away. Ash has his own personalized JFK jungle room.

 

Axis: Wow, it seems Ash really throws his money around for the more... luxurious things in life.

 

Edwin: Life’s simple pleasures I guess.

 

King: Wow this is where Ash and Misty must...

 

Axis: KING!! I’m shocked at you. This is a family show dammit!

 

King: And how do you suppose families get made Axis? Its by...

 

Axis very quickly and nervously: And Thor is searching this lavish room very carefully, not quite wanting to know what he might find.

 

Indeed Axis is correct as Thor finds nothing of import in the jungle room. Thor steps out of the room and sees Y2K coming up the steps. Thor walks towards the stairs and the two fighters collide on the stairs, trading punches back and forth while at the same time moving down the stairs. When they reach the base of the stairs Thor smashes Y2K’s head into the railing and then he takes him and moves into the dining room. Y2K starts to struggle free of Thor’s mighty hands so Thor takes the initiative and whips Y2K, but Y2K counters the whip and sends Thor flying into the grandfather clock that has probably kept perfect time for around one hundred years. Under Thor’s tremendous bulk the clock cracks and the glass breaks, stopping the time. Y2K takes the time to wipe the blood from his eyes and then hammers the now kneeling Thor with several lefts and rights. Y2K heads towards the kitchen, where the ML belt is surely hidden. He looks inside and sees a vast amount of drawers and cupboards. He lets out a moan, partly out of the pain of his head and his ribs, and partly because of the arduous task he has just been given.

 

Y2K starts to slowly examine every drawer and cabinet in this very much high tech kitchen. He gets to the last section of kitchen, the pantry, and goes inside all he sees is canned goods and nonperishable food items stacked high on the shelves. He backs out of the room and gets clobbered by a forearm to the back by Thor. The forearm sends him flying into a shelf full of jars, and the shelf in turn falls on him with all its contents falling on him as well. Thor's arm is now badly bleeding from the glass of the grandfather clock. Thor exits the pantry and then the kitchen. He walks through the dining room and then he goes up the stairs once again, perhaps he missed a room or two upstairs. Thor gets to the top and turns right, and heads to the very end of the hallway. He turns the knob, but the door is locked. Thor tries it again, but still no use. Thor then kicks the door off its hinges and walks inside, walking on top of the door. He has entered Ash Ketchum’s private study. It is a very professional looking room for a man as goofy as Ash.

 

Axis: Thor has broken into Ash’s private study, perhaps that fabled ML TV title is located somewhere in that room.

 

Edwin: This is one of the last rooms left to search in in the house. And if he gets that belt, is it possible for him to get out of the house without interference from Y2K?

 

King: There is no way that Thor is going to be TV champion after tonight. You bozos are going to have to sit there and show respect to our new TV champion... “The Rising Sun” Y2K!

 

The carpeting is green, the wall paper has subtle stripes. On the desk there is a computer and a pile of papers. The trashcan is overflowing and it looks like someone just barely finished a sandwich, evident by the crust left over on top of the desk. The walls are filled with books, very serious subject matter, law and punishment, the criminal mind, the anatomy of a frog, not at all like anything Ash would read. Next to one of the bookshelves there is a bust of William Shakespeare. The God of Thunder is stumped, having met Ash several times, it does not seem as though he would use this room at all. But his profound thoughts will have to be postponed as he hears the stumbling footsteps of the dangerous sWo member Y2K. Thor steps next to the door out of sight, as Y2K staggers in, holding his midsection, his face still bloodied. He wipes his face so he can get a better look at the room he has entered. He is perplexed as well as to why this room is in Ash’s home. He is given no time to think however as Thor steps behind Y2K and spins him around, catching him with a European uppercut that send Y2K back into a bookcase. Thor moves quickly and turns Y2K around he then proceeds to slam his head repeatedly into the bookcase, only getting blood all over the books. Thor stops assaulting Y2K and goes to Ash’s desk rifling through papers and tossing out office supplies.

 

He stands, without the title, and Y2K blindly jumps on his back and holds on for dear life. Thor staggers around like a drunken sailor carrying a keg on his back. He stumbles and sways all the time with Y2K sneaking in shots to the head. Thor finally pushes backwards and smashes Y2K into the bookcase, but Y2K still hangs on and then he punches Thor with a firm left in the temple and he staggers and spins around violently and Y2K’s foot kicks the Shakespeare bust. Thor then forcefully backdrops Y2K to the floor underneath Thor’s three hundred and forty five pounds and Y2K releases his grip. Thor stands up dazed and looks at the Shakespeare bust. It is firmly in place, but the chin and head are flipped backwards at a hinge, exposing a red button.

 

Axis: Could this be what I think it is?

 

King: That’s impossible! I’ve known Ash since he started, he cant be!

 

Edwin: Ha Ha! Ash really is a hero! *sings a snippet from a legendary TV show*

 

Thor is now really confused, but he is beginning to see things in a different light now. He realizes what the significance of the bust and the button are so he gamely plays along. Thor presses the button and one of the bookcases slides open, revealing none other than two fire poles, descending down into two holes in the floor. Thor now gets a grin and laughs to himself. He walks to the fire pole and slides down. Y2K is dazed but he saw what Thor has done. It takes him a while, but he gets to his feet and when he does, he slides down the second pole.

 

The camera feed goes dead and the next thing we see is Thor in what appears to be almost an exact recreation of the Bat Cave from the original Batman television show. Thor is sort of half dressed in the Adam West Batman outfit as he struggles to get the much too small costume off of him. Then we see Y2K come down the flag pole dressed in full on Burt Ward Robin uniform. His spandex tights do not show off Y2K’s best features as he suddenly realizes what he is wearing. In shock and disgust he tears the mask off and rushes at Thor. Thor catches Y2K with a big boot to the face. Thor finally tears off the cape and cowl and he then precedes to pulverize Y2K with a leg drop on the cold hard rock below. Thor gets up and starts to look at a huge piece of equipment once referred to as a computer. He wanders through a maze of bat gizmos and bat gadgets.

 

Axis: I don’t believe it! Ash Ketchum has a real life Bat Cave in his basement!

 

Edwin: That rules, I wanna be Batman! I wonder if he has the Batmobile and the Bat Copter. I want a utility belt dammit!

 

King: You’re pathetic Edwin, Superman could beat Batman any day of the week!

 

Edwin: Nuh uh!

 

King: Yes huh!

 

Edwin: Nuh uh!

 

King: Yes huh!

 

The two rather childish announcers continue their brilliant war of words, and exchange raspberries and random tongue pokes, to further prove their point.

 

Meanwhile in the Bat Cave, Y2K has gotten up and rams Thor’s head into some of the delicate technology in the Bat Cave. Thor stumbles back and Y2K catches him with a double arm DDT. Thor lands in a perfect position as Y2K runs to some sort of analyzing table, hits a Lionsault off of it onto Thor. Y2K hit his finisher, the 241. Thor is down for the time being and Y2K gets up and begins to look in the compartments of the not so state-of-the-art computers and finds nothing.

 

He then spies a series of drawers labeled “Villain's History Archive”. Y2K opens one drawer and some spring loaded snakes and confetti pops out. He closes it and looks in another, a penguin pokes its head out and then jumps out of the drawer and waddles away. Y2K looks bewildered and closes that drawer. He opens another and jumps back, expecting something to jump out and get him, but nothing does. He walks forward and looks in the drawer and removes a piece of paper. He reads it aloud “Riddle me this. Up down left right, I’m red and blue and wants to fight! Who am I?” Y2K thinks deeply about the riddle he’s just been instructed to solve.

 

Axis: Come on, Y2K is smarter than this. Anyone could figure this out.

 

King: Red and blue... wants to fight... hmmm...

 

The answer to the riddle is not so obvious to Y2K as he stands and ponders to himself. A giant shadow grows in front of him as he finally realizes the answer to the riddle, but its too late for “The Rising Sun”. Thor stands behind him and turns him around. Y2K’s countenance is petrified as Thor gives him a big headbutt which staggers Y2K. It staggers him just enough for Thor to grab him, flip him upside down and lock his hands around Y2K’s waist. Thor then drops Y2K on his head with a Ragnarok piledriver on the cave floor. Thor then stands and turns around, before him he sees a slight glint of gold peeking out from beneath some papers by a pile of printouts, that is waist high. Thor quickly moves towards the papers and tosses them behind him without care. Finally Thor sees his prize, the IGN ML Television title belt, shining as bright as the day it was made. Thor picks up the belt and looks for an exit. Climbing back up the pole he came in on would be pointless, as the bookcase is already shut.

 

Thor looks around and finally sees his exit, a small service elevator, probably used for Alfred the butler. Thor runs to it and steps inside, he presses the button for up and the doors slowly shut, they are stopped however by Y2K, who barely staggers in the door. Thor and Y2K exchange blows as the elevator goes to the top with Y2K taking the upper hand by slamming Thor’s head into the chrome door of the elevator. The elevator reaches the top and a bookcase slide to the side. Y2K grabs the ML TV title and walks out the door with a smile on his face, despite having his head cut open by glass and having several ribs either cracked or broken. He walks out the door of the study and then to the staircase. He feels he’s won the belt so he’s back to his old cocky self. He slides down the railing of the sweeping staircase and reaches the bottom. He picks up a magazine that is on the coffee table and he thumbs through a few pages, he can enjoy the things in life.

 

Axis: Y2K is a bloody mess, but he is still as cocky as ever.

 

Edwin: Just walk through the bloody door already, you’ve got him beat.

 

King: YES!! Thank you Edwin for taking the words right out of my mouth! Y2K has won this match.

 

Y2K puts down the magazine and lets out a chuckle, his chuckle turns into a laugh, but his laugh is soon overshadowed by an even louder deeper laugh. Y2K spins around to see Thor standing right behind him, Y2K tries to bolt for the door, but Thor catches him in his massive arms. Thor grips Y2K around the throat with one hand, and with one graceful motion brings him back down on the glass coffee table in a chokeslam. The table breaks including the glass under the force of the blow and Thor walks back up the stairs, rather than walk out the door with his title. Thor gets to the second floor and steps up onto the guardrail.

 

Axis: No WAY is Thor going to try this!

 

Edwin: YES HE IS!! HE’S GOING FOR THE CRACK OF THUNDER FROM FIFTEEN FEET IN THE AIR!!

 

King: What happened? Y2K had this match won!

 

Edwin’s prediction comes violently to life as Thor lets out a mighty roar as he holds his arms outstretched. He then leaps off, continuing his primal roar until he lands on the fallen Y2K with his Crack of Thunder elbow drop. Both men lay on the ground, battered and broken, the elbow took a lot out of both men. After a moment or two, Thor sits up and breathes heavily. He then stands slowly and takes the TV title from the hand of Y2K, who is still grasping the belt. Thor then walks slowly, his arm still bleeding, down that hallway from whence he came and enters the coatroom. The referee was waiting in the coatroom during the entire match and he slides the glass door open.

 

Thor and the ref step outside onto the patio and the crowd gives a huge roar of approval at their still TV champion Thor. The crowd is ballistic as Thor walks into the ring, set up in Ash Ketchum’s backyard, and Funyon brings the mic to his lips and booms “Here is your winner... and... STILL... SJL Television champion... THOOOOOOORRR!!!” The crowd redoubles their cheering as Thor is handed back the belt he won on metal and holds it high in the air along with the ML TV belt. Thor’s music begins to play and he quietly begins to exit the ring, with his belt held high, when none other than Ash himself enters the ring and tells Thor he’s not done, Ash holds up Thor’s arm and the crowd cheers even louder seeing old and new come together. Ash then takes his ML TV belt and holds it above his head and the two wrestlers quietly exit the ring, congratulating each other.

 

Axis: Stay tuned, we’ll be right back!

 

King: He was so close...

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest HVilleThugg

A car.

 

Black.

 

Midnight black.

 

A man.

 

Stepping out of said car.

 

Hair blonde.

 

---

 

Mike Van Siclen exits his midnight-black Porsche, blonde hair flying around in the cool Tampa breeze, as he looks above him, at the mansion, no, palace that is a house. Actually, it's Ash Ketchum's house, as evident by the large, solid-gold word "ASH" above two red-and-white painted gates.

 

"Dumb slut," Mike mutters to himself, eerily reminiscent of Jay Dawg (who should be a chat Op, by the way.) The Amazin' One walks up to the gate, looking for a way to open it.

 

No such luck. "That's one fine gate," Mike chuckles to himself as he looks around to see if there's a device to open it… lo and behold, to the left of him is an intercom. Mike goes over to it, and presses the button.

 

"Hey yo, can I get in?" Mike kindly asks the security guard who's probably going to respond to this message.

 

"Name, please," states, lo and behold, a security guard, who sounds like he's a) bored and in dire need of a coffee break.

 

"Uh, the name is Mike Van Siclen. You may refer to me as…"

 

"I'm sorry, I can't let you pass, sir. Strict orders from one Edwin MacPhisto."

 

"Fine, sir… don't let me in. But I assure you, I'll get in one way or another. And then… ho-ho. It's gonna be like Christmas in Chile, baby."

 

"Whatever, sir. Please leave the premises."

 

"Done deal. And THAT… is what I said."

 

Mike walks away calmly, whistling, chuckling, and cackling to himself.

 

…fader…

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest HVilleThugg

(The camera return from its lengthy breaks as it gyrates back to life and begins to swirl around the beautiful Ash Ketchum mansion in Tampa, Florida! Signs like "I mark for the Renebreak" and "Mak Francis!" are seen. The camera zooms in on the announcer's table as the drink blender and WF world champ Edwin MacPhisto (also JL commissioner) sits on the far right and the next seat over as the exciting-as-vanilla Axis sits in the middle while Suicide King sits on the far left who smirks to all his ex fans).

 

"Welcome back to the extravagant Wrathapalooza! We are live straight from Ash Ketchum's house! Don't worry folks as we live the life as the Amish and keep everything simply tonight we'll be back to normal the next broadcast. Huzzah." Edwin proclaims with a huge flashy grin.

 

"Yes, after a great show so far and PIE~! Coming up after this match then followed by Francis facing T-Bone… and then the main event." Axis begins with glee but MacPhisto can't hold in the excitement.

 

 

 

"HELL IN A SWIMMING POOL!" The camera turns over to see the drained out Olympic sized pool.

 

"Right but you'll only see the pie eating contest if your TV is made in America." Axis says laughing loudly.

 

"What if they own Zeniths, aren't they American?" King asks and Axis shrugs the comment off.

 

"It truly can be brutal, every shot is on cement. Plus they can brawl outside of there but they MUST be pin or submit or in Cutthroat's case KO." Axis reminds everyone changing the subject.

 

"But before we see Renegade maul CIA and before we see sWo beat down a piece of meat we get to see a true superstar in action!" Suicide King exclaims.

 

"Yes Andrew Rickmen did return shocking a few people including Edwin (who butts in asking "What?" then stating "I knew…") and faced the WF legend Grimedogg. He barely beat him in what had to be a fluke win!"

 

"A fluke win? Climbing up twenty something feet and hitting a Balcony Sault isn't a fluke win." Suicide King snaps.

 

Axis mutters and King rolls his eyes, as Edwin hums "Why can't we be friends? Why can't we be friends?"

 

"Anyways Andrew Rickmen will square off against the other freaky psycho Fugue!" Axis finishes.

 

 

A sudden booming voice hits the arena, "This match is scheduled for one fall, and they is no time limit…" Funyon's voice carries over the crowd who begin to cheer loudly.

 

Suddenly the camera catches sight of the Caucasian male with the out of shape beard and raggy brown hair. His smile remains on his face as he gets mixed reactions by fans. He has a plain baggy tank top with black pants and white sneakers that stick out.

 

"You'd think the crowd would pop louder, I am that's Jesus!" Suicide King says insulting Fugue.

 

"'Comet' got a louder pop." Axis says quickly going along with King. "What about his music?" Axis asks.

 

"We're using Ash's beyond extensive mp3 list but then again… who the hell would have Bach anyways?" Edwin asks in bewilderment of his own question.

 

Fugue shielded by security guards hops over the roped off section and he rolls into the ring standing at his feet still smiling.

 

"I just realized it'd be smile versus smirk!" Suicide King says throwing his head back and laughing.

 

 

Suddenly as the guards get back in place Mudvayne's "Dig" begins harshly and everyone rises to his or her feet screaming at the top of his or her lungs in hatred towards the True Plague. Andrew Rickmen is seen engulfed by fans and guards leap out as the college kids suddenly stop and begin to whimper off as the guards near. Luchador then smirks (in his usual baggy black sweatshirt and loose tan cargoes with the ever-so-stylish black Orisis skate shoes) and walks down the rest of the way as he hops over the rope. He then climbs up the steel steps and he enters through the middle rope. Rickmen smirks towards the still smiling Fugue.

 

DING! DING! DING! The bell chimes in and the two men step towards the middle of the ring.

 

"You have to wonder if that hurts… smiling all the time." Axis says thinking to himself out loud.

 

The two collide into a grapple in center of the ring as Hardcastle being the ref watches on. Luchador grabs the right wrist of Fugue and twists it into a hammerlock as Insane Luchador puts more pressure. Fugue sighs and then regains his smile as he throws his elbow back slamming it into IL's temple. The hold goes limp and Fugue worms himself out of it. He then hits a grapple on the True Plague as he whips him into the ropes. As Andrew bounces back Fugue leaps into the air and dropkicks Rickmen down. He quickly follows up by grabbing one arm and kneeling onto his shoulder as he pulls harshly. Rickmen winces and his hand scrambles out everywhere looking for a rope to grab onto. Fugue pulls his knee up though retaining the hold on his arm. Fugue quickly drops to his knee again and Rickmen emits a small scream. Though many didn't know his right arm had taken most the hurt from the Balcony Sault. Rickmen throws his right leg back towards Fugue but he's not in range to kick him. Fugue again stands up and falls to his knee slamming it into the shoulder. Andrew throws a fist, which only hits Fugue's arm, and his time Fugue gets up and leaps into the air (retaining the arm hold) and he lands onto IL's shoulder. Andrew screams out in pain as Fugue gets to his feet letting go and Rickmen grabs his shoulder within a second massaging it. Insane Luchador slowly mounts to his feet and Fugue lunges forwards but gets met by a left fist to his face. IL follows up with a right hand punch and he then gives Fugue a hard shove sending him stumbling back. Andrew leaps forwards drawing his hand back and hitting a nasty chop against Fugue's chest.

 

"WHOOO!"

 

Another hard slap and Fugue stumbles into the turnbuckle wind knocked out of him. Andrew draws back his hand and throws the slap and right as it hits he grabs his shoulder in pain. Rickmen rolls his shoulder quickly and he bends down and mini-spears Fugue. Fugue only slumps in the corner as Andrew secures a grasp on his wrist and he whips him into the opposite turnbuckle. Rickmen charges forwards and right as Fugue slams into the turnbuckle he lunges forwards and rolls towards IL's feet and causes him to fly up and slam down on his side… on his right shoulder. Fugue stands back on his feet and the grin becomes more wide as he stalks up to Andrew with a bandage across his forehead from his previous match. He then takes a hold on it (and gives IL a quick stomp) and tugs it off quickly. Fugue throws it outside the ring littering Ash's grass and the fan's cheers for Fugue begin to wear down. The camera zooms in on Rickmen's face etched with pain as the cut is almost healed and a nasty red color with a tint of purple.

 

"Awesome yet slow action so far." Axis points out.

 

"Yes, he's really working on IL's right arm and shoulder." Edwin adds in.

 

Fugue grabs Andrew's right arm and he tugs it up and causes Insane Luchador to mount back to his feet. Insane Luchador's arm free the opponents grapple again. Insane Luchador barely overpowers the music freak and he throws a knee to his gut and follows up hitting a quick DDT.

 

"That was as fast as lightning." Axis says with his mouth nearly open since the speed was remarkable.

 

Luchador hooks the leg and covers,

 

ONE! Fugue throws his shoulder up quickly. Andrew smirks and he grabs a whole knot of his long hair as he pulls him to his feet and he tugs him forward then throws out his arm hitting a clothesline. Andrew grabs the scraggly hair and pulls him up again. He lets go and takes boxing like stance and he throws out two fast right hooks that send Fugue holding onto the ropes for support. Rickmen smirks and hits a fierce sidekick (much like Glacier in WCW does) sending Fugue out onto the grass. Andrew Rickmen suddenly hops onto the top rope, as Fugue gets to his feet quickly shaky. Andrew makes a fist and pumps it into the air but instead of pulling up the usual middle finger he throws up his index and pinkie, thus creating the rock on sign, as he leaps into the air throwing his body weight backwards. He hits the moonsault and connects with Fugue as the two tangle into a crippled heap near the roped off fans.

 

"Couldn't the fans just leap over the rope and beat the living shit out of Rickmen?" Axis asks Edwin.

 

"Couldn't we?" Edwin counters and he makes a mental note to himself if he's ever to have to resort to a backyard again.

 

Hardcastle sighs and begins the count out, as Rickmen is able to collect himself. He grabs the end of Fugue's beard and tugs the tiniest clump of hair out. Fugue's smile vanishes as he screams out in pain and then the smile returns. Andrew rolls his eyes remembering what minor insanity is like and he pulls Fugue to his feet and he grabs the back of his head and drives it straight into the turnbuckle post. Fugue falls to the ground smiling.

 

Four, Andrew shrugs off the count and pulls Fugue back up and he throws a punch which is ducked then countered by a kick to the gut. Fugue grabs Insane Luchador's arm and he sends on the other side of the turnbuckle post and he takes a few steps back (nearly into the fans) and he charges forwards slamming his elbow into the steel post. IL drops to one knee and he slowly recovers around the count of six as he rolls in and Fugue follows. The two once again retreat into a grapple and Insane Luchador dodges a knee assault and he lunges forwards hitting his own knee up again and then hitting a front headlock as he grabs a handful of Fugue's black pants hitting a snap suplex and he retains the hold standing back up. He hits it again and he pulls himself and Fugue to his feet as he hits another snap suplex. He regains to his feet and hits the final one as he rolls away. Fugue gets back to his feet reeling. Fugue regains balance and as Luchador turns to the fans Fugue charges at full speed IL turns around to see Fugue leap into the air hitting the running dropkick. Andrew Rickmen flies backwards and he lands on his lower neck and the shoulders area. He tumbles backwards and lands on his feet while he reels backwards even more and he lands in the turnbuckle. Fugue follows up ramming towards Luchador and he throws his arm out hitting Insane Luchador with a nasty clothesline. He stumbles out and Fugue steps in front of him and small packages him!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THRE, Luchador kicks out and rolls away and to the outside. Insane Luchador catches his breath and he rolls back in getting back to his feet. IL dodges a punch and Andrew Rickmen lunges upwards and he tackles Fugue down. He then clinches his fists and begins to pummel on Fugue's face. Sexton gives Luchador a soft shove trying to get him off of his foe but IL ignores his request as he drives another hard right into his chin. Insane Luchador stands up and looks down at Fugue whose eyes are shut and his grin absurdly wide as his teeth are splattered with blood. Luchador smirks recalling his recent match not going to let the Jesus look-a-like freak him out. Insane Luchador pulls him up and launches a kick that is caught as Andrew hops on one foot trying to keep balance. Fugue pulls IL in and drops the leg to the ground however he grabs around IL's torso and suddenly hits a Northern Lights Suplex! He covers,

 

ONE! No sign of kicking out.

 

TWO! Luchador throws his throbbing right shoulder into the air breaking the count.

 

"You notice that the fans haven't really jeered Insane Luchador, the usual stinky heel smell- much like what comes off of King ("Hey!" Is King's counter) isn't pouring out his pores." Edwin comments.

 

"True, and I agree with King being smelly." Axis agrees.

 

"Shut up!" King snaps harshly.

 

Insane Luchador is pulled up by a clump of his spikes and has his wrist grabbed by Fugue. The music freak pulls him forwards hitting a shoulder barge straight into his right shoulder. Fugue with the back of his hand swipes away some of the crimson red trickling blood and it smears all over his chin and upon his hand. He grins even more towards the camera that backs away slowly and he remembers his match still energized and ready. He looks down at IL and lifts up his foot aiming at his chest as he brings it down but Luchador puts both hands up grasping the sneaker and he throws it backwards causing Fugue to trip! He quickly grabs the inside of his knees and places them by Fugue's own head and he flips over while retaining the hold yet he slides the grasp down to Fugue's ankles.

 

"A very screwy bridge! I like!" Suicide King proclaims as Hardcastle drops to the mat ready for the count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO! Fugue kicks out and Insane Luchador rolls away in retreat. The two are back to their feet and they grapple as Insane Luchador hits a sudden Irish Whip, and as Fugue returns IL slides under him. Fugue stops dead in his tracks as he whips around and gets a kick to the gut… he lunges forwards hitting a headlock as the fans rise from their seats. He goes for the drop…but is countered as Fugue shoves downwards and he leaps into the air putting his knees out like he's on a boogie board as he lands straight on IL's right shoulder, which is in horrid pain. He covers,

 

ONE! The crowd actually jeers.

 

TWO! "The fans can smell something's odd." Axis comments.

 

THREE! But Hardcastle suddenly pops up and holds up two fingers!

 

"Two count?" Edwin yells in dismay.

 

"That had to be three!" Axis exclaims.

 

Fugue shares their opinions as he gets up staring at Sexton with hatred and Luchador sees the chance trip him and roll him up for the schoolboy!

 

ONE! A few cheers emit… mostly because the fans want to see pie.

 

TWO! Silence as Fugue tried to kick out but IL overpowered him.

 

THRE, "Whoa, thank God." Edwin proclaims as Fugue barely kicks out.

 

Fugue once again rolls away and gets back to his feet but this time Insane Luchador charges forwards and he leaps into the air locking on the headlock as he swings his body weight to the side and hits the swinging DDT!

 

"OLD SCHOOL IL!" Axis proclaims.

 

Luchador hooks the leg,

 

ONE! The hardcore IL fans mark out for his old favorite.

TWO! Fugue shows life…

TH, a kick out and groans from fans.

 

"Hoo hah, a kick out." Suicide King states bored.

 

"Your so hard to entertain…" Edwin comments with a sigh.

 

"Am not."

 

"Remember the dance off?" Edwin asks trying to enjoy King.

 

"Nope."

 

"Yes you do! I KNOW you do!" Axis counters helping out Edwin.

 

Meanwhile in the ring Insane Luchador and Fugue grapple once again. IL hits a sudden knee to the gut and he follows up by bouncing into the ropes and as he returns he hits a knee to the face causing Fugue to fall to the ground, the cover...

 

ONE!

TWO!

THRE, "And a kick out!" Axis proclaims weary of this match.

 

Fugue stands up, his face now even more bloody as he stalks towards Luchador. The two charge towards each other and Fugue throws out his forearm missing a clothesline. Insane Luchador barely ducking the assault grabs his two legs and swipes him from under him casuing him to fall flat on his back. Rickmen leaps into the air and hits a leg drop as he makes the cover,

 

ONE! Cheers and jeers.

 

TWO! Fugue stirs.

 

 

 

THRE, Fugue kicks out and gets back to his feet before IL even can and he hits a knee to hios gut as he doubles over and he slams his elbow to the back of his right shoulder. Luchador winces yet throws his foot up slamming into Fugue's jewels and he stumbles back holding his bits and pieces as Insane Luchador spears him to the ground and begins to maul on him with punches. After about the tenth punch he counters with a jab to sends IL off guard and Fugue rolls out from underneath and locks in a headlock as he violently twists at his neck. As Fugue makes the two stand up Insane Luchador grabs him by the pressure points in his neck and he squeezes absurdly hard. Fugue lets go and makes a whimpering sound and Luchador spins around to deliver a heavy dropkick to his chest. Rocketing backwards Fugue lands on his back and Insane Luchador scrambles over making the cover,

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE! Sexton throws up two fingers.

 

"Only two?" Edwin shrieks.

 

"Guess so." Axis says disappointed.

 

"Did you guys just root for IL?"

 

"Dunno..."

 

"That's a first in a while..."

 

"Since the insanity at least."

 

"Aaahhh... glory days, glooorrryy dddayyyysss!" Edwin sings like Bruce Springsteen's "Glory Days."

 

"Dear God." Axis mutters.

 

King stiffles a chuckle and they suddenly remember the match.

 

Luchador pulled up the Music Man and he sighs as he pumps two fists in the air. Suddenly Fugue lunges forwards and hits a knee to his gut and he wraps his arms around Luchador's waist. He pulls up trying to place him for the powerbomb but Luchador resists and BARELY slips out of the hold. He quickly shoves Fugue into the ropes and Fugue in defense throws out an arm in a clothesline attempt but IL ducks it. He throws out an elbow to IL's skull but he side-steps it. Luchador then goes for a clothesline but Fugue ducks it, but as Fugue ducks it Rickmen dodges behind him and he locks in the full nelson! He then runs to the turnbuckle when he fluently hops onto it and then comes crashing down hitting the Brink of Insanity!

 

"The Brink! THE BRINK!" King rejoices.

 

"The cover!" Axis yells out.

 

 

ONE! Most fans boo but not with the same hatred.

 

TWO! Some fans even cheer and Fugue isn't moving...

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

"Insane Luchador has barely done it!"

 

The bell rings in calling the match up but suddenly all the fans boo incredibly loud as Mak francis and Y2K of the sWo run in with Mak armed with a chair! Insane Luchador whips around to see them charging and he flips them off then bends his middle finger making a "Come Get It." sign.

 

"What the hell do they want?"

 

As Mak slides into the ring Y2K checks on Fugue. Francis looks at Insane Luchador and IL asks simply, "How's Tyler? I didn't mean too beat him and you too bad..." Francis growls and takes a swing, Andrew ducks under it and Francis takes a step forward raising the chair and slamming it into his back!

 

"Oh God!" Edwin yells.

 

Rickmen dodges the tip of the chair that is nearly driven into his throat as the ring shakes. Mak goes to swing but is hit by a dropkick to his knees! he falls to the ground and he lands face first into the chair. Y2K and Fugue (a bit shaken) both charge and Luchador ducks the double clothesline attempt. Getting cocky as he hits a kick to Fugue's stomach he looks over the fact that Y2K wields Mak's chair and he sees a shadow cast over him. He swings around and gets hit by the chair right where his old cut was! Blood seeps out the old wound and Luchador groans while Mak gets to his feet pointing to Fugue who is handed the chair as he slams it into IL's right shoulder.

 

"Stop this now!" Axis cries half to them half to Edwin.

 

DING DING DING! The obvious bell tries to tell them the match is over as Mudvayne's "Dig" which played late dies down.

 

Luchador rolls away in retreat and he hops back to his feet as his hand runs over the cut. He grins wildly and charges like a maniac at the three! Y2K sees him and yells at Mak and Fugue who both turn around and Fugue in alarm slams the chair on the back of Rickmen's head causing him to fall to a crippled heap only a foot away. Mak slowly gets handed a microphone and he begins to speak,

 

"Today we grow one stronger... Rickmen we didn't cost you the match, and we didn't like how you bailed on the New Sound and treated our guys like shit... payback can be a bitch." He says slowly recalling his match with IL long ago.

 

As a sWo shirt is handed to Fugue (who smiles like always) they all leave the ring.

 

"And the sWo grow one stronger!" Suicide King says with glee forgetting the injured IL.

 

A sudden sound is heard, "Wait. You want more.. come get more!" Insane Luchador screams at them. The three turn around and Mak now leaving with the chair shrugs the three roll into the ring and circle around Insane Luchador who raises to his feet. As Mak tosses the chair over IL's head to Y2K IL swings around and Mak suddenly hits a massive axe handle on the back of Luchador's head. The grin grows wider. He whirls around to see Mak with a chair who smirks and mouths, "Surprise." As he slams the chair brutually into Luchador.

 

"Sick animals, the lot." Axis proclaims. Fugue grabs a chunk of IL's hair and pulls him up holding him as Y2K throws in some punches. Luchador throws a limp kick that misses causing the three to burst into laughter.

 

Fugue lets go of IL and points to his right arm and Francis nods as Fugue suddenly takes him down and hits the Chord Minor! He creates barely enough room for the end of the chair to be driven into the already sore area. Secruity flocks to the scene now and the sWo books dodging trash that is pelted at them as the paramedics come along side of the guards. They slide into the ring as the camera zooms in on the very bloody face of Andrew Rickmen. Suddenly his eyes go wide open filled with a twinkle to them and he begins to laugh like a maniac and continues till until the screen fades to black him being walked out of the arena.

 

"More to come!" Axis shouts.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest HVilleThugg

Wrathapalooza returns to Ash’s backyard to see a table with an apron set up inside the ring. Three men stand in the center, one is clearly larger, one has gay blonde hair, and one has gay red hair… with silver streaks. Dressed in their tuxedos, they stand, waving to the fans, except the blonde, who would rather show them his ass, but doesn’t. Axis stands in the middle, Edwin to his left, and the Suicide King to his right. They all grab their seats, as Funyon announces.

 

Funyon: “The following is a Pie Eating contest! Introducing the JL announcers, Larry, Curly and Moe!”

 

They all wave their hands as some random gibberish music hits he speakers. Out comes that JL chick in a referee top.

 

Funyon: “Special guest referee! Sydney Sky!”

 

I don’t know if she’s a heel or a face, so let’s just say she gets a mixed reaction. She enters the ring and smiles to the three commentators, King gives her a wink, and she blushes. Funyon hands her the Mic and exits the ring as she begins to speak.

 

Sky: “Hey folks. The following is a PIE eating contest.”

 

King can be seen muttering something about her pie.

 

Sky: “In front of each man is a blueberry pie! The first won to finish eating theirs is the winner! Ok boys… are you ready?”

 

All nod, as each put their serviettes on and pull their seats inward.

 

Sky: “On your marks! Get set! GO!!”

 

Edwin and Axis drive their heads into the pies, as King sits there, pulling out a knife and fork and slowly starts chomping away. Moments after eating, Axis straightens up, face purple in color from the blueberries. Through the sauce, his eyes can be seen opening wide. Axis grabs his gut as he rolls out of his chair, and hangs himself over the top rope, puking into the lawn of Ash’s backyard! King smiles as he pulls out from his pocket a bottle of castrol oil. Edwin suddenly stops moving, his face remaining still in the pie. King pulls out with his other hand a bottle of ether, and smiles as the crowd lets out a roar of boos. With a few more bites, King finishes his pie and raises his hand. He stands up from his seat, celebrating while holding his arms up.

 

“I am god!” is all he shouts, as he allows Sydney to announce the winner.

 

Sky: “The winner of the Pie Eating contest by default! The Suicide King!”

 

The ‘D’ word obviously offends the JL commentator, as he stares at Sydney, questioning her motives. He quickly snatches the microphone away from her and speaks himself.

 

King: “Make no mistake woman! I am the greatest! I always win! Even retired I kick more ass then a professional asskicker! If that makes any sense!”

 

To the crowd’s appeasement, Sydney spins the Suicide around and pops him in the face with multiple forearms. She Irish whips King off the ropes, bounce back, and launches him high with a back body drop. He bounces hard off the mat and quickly crawls under the table. WHAT’S THIS!!? Who’s running down the ramp! It’s SWF hardcore champion Jay Dawg!

 

Stevens: “How did he get past the security in Ash’s house!?”

 

Riley: “Kind of easy when they are all captured pokemon!”

 

Stevens: “Wait! Why are we commentating this!?”

 

Riley: “Because the real commentators are puking, lying in pie, and hiding like a girl!”

 

JD slides into the ring, and begins taunting Sydney to turn around. She finally does and is hammered with the Sweet Tooth Loosening! The blow drops the chick to the mat, but she bounces up, and Jay Dawg flattens her with the hardcore title! JD opens the apron up off the announce table to see King stealing a lollipop from an eight year old boy. He pulls the man out and brushes him off. King looks down at Sydney, then pats JD on the back, before giving her a kick to the ribs. King grabs a headset, and brings it into the ring, announcing the action.

 

King: “Oh my god! I just kicked some ass, did I not!?”

 

JD grabs the pie Axis was eating out of, and drops it over the head of Edwin, leaving him a pie sandwich.

 

King: “Ha! Edwin always wanted all you can eat pie! How do you like that, Mac Daddy!?”

 

King stands in front of JD, taunting the rest of the people in the ring, suddenly the mischief in JD overtakes rationality. He grabs Sydney by the back of the tights, digging deep and pulling hard, yanking on the Fruit of the Looms with an atomic wedgy!

 

Sydney: “OWE!!! Syd in pain!”

 

JD starts to shake the dangeroulsy thin thong, as Syd’s eyes start to roll around in pain. Finally she starts waving her hand around.

 

Sydney: “I give! I give!”

 

JD drops Syd and puts the headset on himself.

 

Jamie: “Gorbachev sings tractors! Turnips! Buttocks!!!”

 

JD turns around to see Axis stumbling around. He cocks his fist back and SMOKES AXIS WITH A RIGHT HAND THROUGH A TABLE!!!

 

Jamie: “Oh my god! Axis is broken in half! We’ll see you after a commercial break!”

 

Axis: "Oh you you won't!"

 

Axis no sells with gusto! He jumps back up to his feet, and before JD knows what's happened, Axis cracks him across the face with a right hand, sending JD hurtling through a convineantly located stack of 999999435729832754234098650938653537986295437 barb wire, glass tube, thumbtack covered electrified and flaming tables!

 

Yay. The camera cuts to a commercial.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest HVilleThugg

And SJL Wrathapalooza comes back from the commercial break. The camera scans the semi geriatric crowd and sees a few choice signs. “Thor hath spoken”, “IL + returned = ratings”, “Double Loser”, “What the Hell is Hell in a Swimming Pool”, “Spider, Thoth, Fallout and Flesher rule everything” and finally “With TNT in the SWF does sucking up seems unfair”. The camera pans back to our terrible trio of Axis, Edwin and King.

 

Axis: “Hello and Good day mates. I’m Axis along side current SWF World champ The Mac Daddy himself…Eddie MacPhisto and former World champ The Suicide King. We’ve had a great show tonight with a hide and seek match and our pie eating contest. sWo interference in the Fugue v IL match-up. Is Fugue the new member they talked about earlier? And finally the return of the Amazin one Mike Van Siclen."

 

MacPhisto: “But nothing will come close to our main event of CIA v Renegade for the SJL World Title. In an empty swimming pool of all places!”

 

King: “Boring. Let’s get back to this five star match-up that "The Franchise" Mak Francis will carry T-Bone to.”

 

MacPhisto: “Kayfabe you moron!”

 

King: “Oh yeah, forgot about that… Boring. Let’s get back to this five star match-up between "The Franchise" Mak Francis and T-Bone.”

 

Axis: “Uh…well…Well the steak sauce covered bastard defeated Mak Francis in a match where he lost both of his dual titles. Now the TV title belongs to Thor and T-bone owns the Euro.”

 

MacPhisto: “Now Mak Francis gets a rematch non-title of course after getting his ass handed to him by T-bone!”

 

[Whispered] ‘Are you Ready?’….

 

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

 

[semi loud] ‘Are you Ready?’….

 

And a clip of him planting Scott Reid with The Franchise Tag followed by the blue and white photonegative image again…

 

[screamed] ‘CAUSE THE FRANCHISE HERE!’

 

Funyon: “Making his way to ringside at 225 pounds…hailing from the city of brotherly hate…“The Franchise” MAAAAK FRRANNNNNCCCIIIISSSSSS!”

 

The Smarktron flashes the words 'The Franchise' as the lights partially come up. This allows the fans to see Mak Francis posed with his back to the crowd. Francis is surprisingly all business as he walks to the ring. A defining boo breaks out as he spins around showing off his sWo shirt, which you can get on www.SJLshoppezone.com.org and raises both fists in the ring. Tyler Kinkel who accompanied Francis to the ring sits in his normal seat beside the Suicide King.

 

Axis: “It’s odd to see Francis without a belt as it’s been a while since he won the Television title.”

 

Kinkel: “Oh look a dingo just ate Misty Ketchum’s baby.”

 

Axis: “I really don’t like you.”

 

Kinkel: “Shut up and the feeling is-oh-so mutual. It’s good to be back in the booth Kingfish!”

 

MacPhisto: “Don’t you mean the pic-a-nic table booboo?”

 

Kinkel: “No.”

 

MacPhisto: “What you don’t like pic-a-nic baskets?”

 

King: “Urge to kill Yogi Bear…rising…”

 

Suddenly the lights dim, and the first bell rings for AC/DC's "Hell's Bells." The SWFTron shows T-Bone hitting a Tiger Driver '91 on Kojack to win the TV Title, T-Bone accepting the title, and then T-Bone spitting out his A-1 Steak Sauce into the camera. The lights flash, and the man, the myth, the legend know as T-bone comes out from the back bearing the SJL European Championship.

 

Funyon: “And his opponent from Sonoma, CA…weighing in at 275 pounds…Your brand new SJL European Champeem…“The Steak Sauce Covered Bastard”…TEEEEE-BOOOOOOONNNNNNNEEEEE!!”

 

MacPhisto: “But it’s even better to see the European belt on this man.”

 

King: “You can shut up along with Axis.”

 

Kinkel: “Yeah and please tell me how my Franchise lost his belts to a guy with a permanent boner and a comic book reject.”

 

Axis: “Well first he got pinned by Thor after a-“

 

Kinkel: “Are you really that dumb?”

 

MacPhisto: “Nope he’s just doing it to annoy you Kinky.”

 

Axis: “Tis true Kinky.”

 

Kinkel: “Don’t call me that anymore.”

 

MacPhisto: “No can do Kinky my man.”

 

The crowd cheers in approval as he struts down to the ring. As he gets near the ring he walk towards the announce table, and reaches into the pocket of his leather jacket, the crowd goes wild waiting for it. The A-1 Streak Sauce bottle. He takes a swig, puts a bottle on the table, then stares to the popping like a cherry crowd, and jumps up to apron facing a section of said crowd.

 

PFFFFFFT

 

And spits out a red liquid, HHH style. The boner climbs into the ring, and stares down the Franchise patting his newly won belt before giving it to the referee Matt Kivell.

 

Axis: “Referee Matthew Kivell checks both men and asks for the bell as this non-title match-up between “the Franchise” Mak Francis and SJL European Champion “The Steak Sauce Covered Bastard” T- Bone is underway.”

 

Francis and T-bone stare each other down as the smaller Francis is forced to look up his opponent. Then the two me waste little time, hooking together in the center of the ring for a collar and elbow tie-up. T-bone being the stronger of the two men backs Francis into a neutral corner as Kivell comes over to ask for a clean break. T-bone slightly backs away but as soon as Kivell moves away he quickly chops across the chest of the Franchise.

 

--Smack--

 

WHOOOOOOO!

 

MacPhisto: “Scintillating chop from the Boner.”

 

This time T-bone rips at the shirt of Francis tearing it and tearing into Mak’s chest with another viscous, but louder this time because it’s unprotected, chop.

 

--SMACK!!!--

 

WHOOOOOOOOOHOO!

 

Axis: “Damn. That was hard.”

 

King: “Uh…I’ll agree…”

 

Kinkel: “That’s a pansy chop compared to Mak’s.”

 

This causes Francis to dance out off the corner in pain but T-bone grabs him by the shoulders and tosses him back for another chop that doesn’t get the same sound but hurts all the same.

 

--smack--

 

WHOOOOOOOOO!

 

T-bone lets his opponent dance out of the corner this time and snap mares him to the mat following it up by bouncing off the ropes fiercely, and driving a twisting elbow into Francis’s heart like a Vampire Slayer killing hells spawn.

 

Axis: “Shades of the Great Muta as T-bone’s paying homage to his Japanese style of grappling. T-bone with a lateral press as Kivell hits the mat to count.”

 

One…

 

 

Two…

 

Axis: “And a kick-out by the Franchise. As he takes the first near fall of this young match-up.”

 

MacPhisto: “A little to early to go for a pin fall but T-bone showing the former and I stress that former double champion no respect. Boner showing the crowd he can pin Mak any place any time. Just like he did after that Tiger Driver 91.”

 

King: “Pissing off Mak ain’t the best idea T-bone ever came up with. This guy was one of few me to defeat now SWFer Frost.”

 

MacPhisto: “So I guess that makes T-bone that much better as he pinned Mak, right Kingy.”

 

Kinkel: “No that makes him that much luckier-

 

Axis: “Why because Francis had already been pinned and torn a new one by the mammoth TV champion Thor.”

 

T-bone picks Francis up to his feet and drives a few stiff right hands to the ear of his opponent. The boner then grabs his arm and tosses him into the ropes. Upon his return Francis ducks the stiff clothesline attempt and rebounds right back into a deep old school spinebuster from the Euro champ. T-bone isn’t finished yet though as he runs to the corner and struts out dropping a fist to the head of a prone Franchise. T-bone once again makes the cover and Kivell is happy to oblige with a count.

 

One…

 

 

Two…

 

 

Axis: “And Francis kicks-out. This match has been entirely new SJL Euro champ so far but you have to wonder when Francis will find a way to counter. He’s a two time All American and NCAA Nation Champion. That’s all amateur wrestling is, countering.”

 

King: “Yup. Axis speaks the truth for a man that got locked in a friggin shed.”

 

MacPhisto: “Hey Kingy, don’t hate the player love the cock even more than you do.”

 

Axis: “I must agree King you and the cock seem to be good friends.”

 

King: “This coming from Eddie “sweetness” MacPhisto, a known cross dresser and Axis…the guy that couldn’t get any…World title gold or sex. I laugh at you peons.”

 

Kinkel: “Yeah, don’t you know a King always beats two jackasses!”

 

King: “Good one!”

 

Kinkel: “I try Kingfish…I try…”

 

Axis: “You need to try harder…”

 

MacPhisto: “He needs to try a little less before I knock him back to next week when he and Mak caught an ass whoopin.”

 

T-bone picks Francis up to his feet again and goes for an overhand right but the Franchise catches his arm and drags him down to the mat in a Japanese armbar takedown. Francis then tries to put it in conjunction with a single leg crab but the steak sauce covered bastard gets on his knees and forward rolls onto his back. This lessens the pressure and puts him in prime position for a hard punch to the check of Francis. Francis breaks the hold and scampers away on all fours while T-bone gets up.

 

Axis: T-bone counters the counter…”

 

Both men set their arms for a collar and elbow tie-up and while the boner lunges forward Francis points a thumb right at his eye.

 

Kinkel: “Let’s see somebody counter that!”

 

He holds his eye in pain as Kivell admonishes Francis for using an illegal tactic. The Franchise just scoffs and bounces off the near ropes grabbing T-bone’s head and driving it to the mat with a bulldog. Francis gets up in one fluid motion and hit the ropes rebounding back and connecting with a leg drop to the back of T-bone’s neck. Francis flips him over and goes for the cover…

 

One…

 

 

Two…

 

 

Axis: “And T-bone kicks-out with some energy. He made sure Francis got offa’ him.”

 

Mak Francis scramble back towards the marinader but T-bone has a lot left in him so Francis gives him a few stiff shots to the face for his troubles. An Irish whip by Francis is reversed and T-bone tosses him towards the ropes. Francis comes back wildly expecting to attack the boner but runs right into a Choking sit-out Powerbomb.

 

Axis: “Miracle Ecstasy Bomb! A Chokeslam sit-out Powerbomb from T-bone with a pin.”

 

One…

 

 

Two…

 

Kinkel: “Kick-out!”

 

 

 

Th-

 

Axis: “No Francis gets a shoulder up.”

 

T-bone stands up, goes briefly to the outside and scales the turnbuckle setting up for his patented flying clothesline from the top rope. As Francis wobbles to his feet and turns around he jumps off and sails through the air…

 

 

Only to be caught in the chest with a textbook dropkick from the Franchise. Francis moves over the semi downed T-bone and tries to lock in a dragon sleeper?!

 

Axis: “Never seen Francis try that…but it doesn’t matter anyways as T-bone rotates his body before he could snitch in the hold now in perfect position for a northern light suplex…”

 

T-bone hits the pinning maneuver and Kivell hits the mat…

 

One…

 

 

 

Two…

 

But Francis bridges up out of the pinning predicament and rotates himself. He connects with a punch to the stomach which forces T-bone to let go and then he side steps pulling boner to the mat with a drop toehold. Finally Francis culminates his flurry of offense with a STF variation. A step over toehold combined with a crossface. T-bone feels the pain in his legs, neck and lower back but fights his way to the ropes to get a clean break.

 

King: “Those were some great combinations and counters by the Franchise.”

 

MacPhisto: “I like his talent just not his piss poor attitude. Why can’t he warm to the fans like T-bone did and now they respect him for it.”

 

Francis breaks the hold and picks T-bone up going for a snap suplex and connects. Then he drags T-bone back up to his vertical base and snaps him back down. Finally The Franchise picks T-bone up in the air stalling for what may be a brainbuster or a slingshot suplex since he’s near the ropes but the boner slides down his back and turns him around giving him a right hand.

 

And chop followed by another stiff right…

 

WHOOOOOOO!

 

And finally a roaring elbow to the chin. Francis is out like a light on his feet but drops face first to the mat in a heap. T-bone flips him over and goes for the cover.

 

MacPhisto: “Wrolling Elbow connectahs~!”

 

ONE!

 

King: “I hate puro marks…”

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

T

H

R

EE!

 

Axis: “YES!”

 

Kinkel: “NO!”

 

Kivell: “No three! No three!”

 

Axis: “Francis got a shoulder up! Kivell is waving it off!”

 

T-bone is a little surprised and yells at Kivell for a three count but soon picks the half dead Francis up…

 

 

Then an Irish whip…

 

 

That he short arms locking his arms around the Franchise waist and then tosses him over the top and to the outside of the friggin ring. Inside the ring T-bone plays to the crowd and they eat it up like a fat woman with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

 

Axis: “AN OVERHEAD BELLY-TO-BELLY TO THE FRIGGIN’ OUTSIDE!!!

 

Kinkel: “Please someone disqualify him…MacPhisto…Kivell.”

 

MacPhisto: “Sorry Kinky, no DQ for throwing people over the top ropes. The SJL is hardcore!”

 

King: “He’s right no DQ for that kinda non Suicide King dangerous stuff…Mak just needs to take that one like a man.”

 

Kinkel: “This T-bone is a sadist. Thank god that Mak didn’t break his neck on the move. See he’s moving!”

 

Meanwhile T-bone has already made his way to the outside and is stalking the Franchise. Francis holds his back in pain as the marinader grips him up by the scruff of his neck. T-bone drags Francis through the crowd that is very vocally pro T-bone toward the swimming pool area where the main event will take place. The boner continues to lay into Francis with stiff overhand forearms and fists. Kivell tries to start a count but must leave the ring as the two me get closer to the pool.

 

Kinkel: “What’s he thinking?”

 

MacPhisto: “I’d guess how to hurt Mak even more than he already has!”

 

As the two men, well as one man hold the other up, T-bone steps behind Francis on the cold tile surrounding the pool by five or six feet. Axis, Edwin, Kinkel and King all get out of their seat to look as boner lifts him up into the air and nails a Backdrop Suplex on the tile!!

 

T-bone: “You wanta’ be HARDCORE Franchise? Do ya?”

 

MacPhisto: “DANGEROUS BACKDROPPAH! You killed Mak, you steak sauce covered bastard. Hehe, South Park rules…Zing!”

 

Axis: “This just got hardcore!”

 

King: “And that really was funny Eddie Mac.”

 

Kinkel: “Kingfish!”

 

King: “What…it was!”

 

Kivell finally gets out to the pool area as T-bone is about to hurl Mak into the 10 foot empty pool. Kivell runs in front of the two men and almost looses his balance trying to stop the carnage. Finally T-bone agrees at the threat of disqualification and suspension to bring the action back into the ring.

 

Axis: “That was a very close call for the Franchise but what might happen in our main event if a situation like that arises.”

 

King: “CIA or Renegade will get thrown into a empty cement pool. Nuff said.”

 

T-bone takes Francis through the crowd that hits him popcorn, cups, and even a few dentures. T-bone stops in the middle of the mass and slams Mak’s face into an opened chair repeatedly until Kivell walks up behind him. The two argue but T-bone can be heard saying “What…he slipped” as the blood flows fresh from Francis’s face.

 

Kinkel: “Come on Mak do something.”

 

T-bone drags the hurting Franchise to the picnic table or announce table if you will and slams his head across it a few times shaking the forgotten bottle of steak sauce and getting the point and blood of this match across to Kinkel. Finally the marinader rolls him back into the ring and plays to the hot crowd some more. After getting into the ring T-bone picks Francis up and puts him in a back waist lock. Francis executes a standing switch and with all the blood in his eyes and fatigue hits a sloppy release German suplex but T-bone gets right back up and rushes behind hitting a stalling German Suplex with a pin.

 

One…

 

 

 

Two…

 

 

 

 

Three…

 

Axis: “No Francis got his shoulders up off the mat. I thought he had just turned the momentum with that release German but T-bone got right back up and hit one of his own!”

 

T-bone motions to the crowd that it’s over as he picks the broken and bloody Francis up from the mat. He places him in a front face lock. Cradles the leg…

 

Axis: “UNBELIEVABLE! INCONCEIVABLE! HE’S GOING FOR FRANCIS’S FRANCHISE TAG.”

 

And lift him up into the air driving his noggin back down to the canvas in a fisherman’s buster!!

 

MacPhisto: “FISHAMANBUSTA~!”

 

Kinkel: “Mak nooooo! My Franchise just had a head on collision with his own concussion junction!

 

Francis’s head is sitting in its own puddle of blood as T-bone tired as all hell too rolls him over after catching his breath and makes the cover.

 

ONE

 

Kinkel: “He’ll kick-out…”

 

T

W

O

 

 

King: “I’m just not sure…”

 

THREE!

 

Kivell: “No Three!”

 

Axis: “He kicked out of a fisherman’s buster.”

 

Kinkel: “Nobody can hit a Franchise Tag better than the Franchise. I knew he’d kick out!”

 

Axis: “Please T-bone hit that maneuver flush.”

 

MacPhisto: “Remarkable will. If only the bloody kid didn’t have such a chip on his shoulder.”

 

T-bone is irate but he doesn’t dally with Kivell too long as Francis touches the announce table on the outside whimpering for somebody to help him. T-bone goes straight back to Francis, who’s body instinctively rolled out of the ring, and drags him up to his feet and back into the ring. The boner locks on a full Nelson as Kinkel run to the squared circle but he doesn’t get the chance to swing him about as Francis gets in a mule kick while Kivell is distracted…

 

 

And T-bone looks at the weary Francis with blood still caked on his face only seeing red…

 

 

As T-bone is blinded by a steak sauce mist from Francis. T-bone covers his eyes and bends at the waist while Francis hooks up the front face lock and cradles the leg….

 

 

And with a final jerk he lifts T-bone into the air busting his head with a Franchise Tag!! He slowly but surely covers…

 

King: “TRUAH FRANCHISAHS FISHAMANBUSTA~!!”

 

O

N

E

 

T

W

O

 

Axis: “Not like this…by the help of a low blow and steak sauce mist…”

 

 

 

T

H

R

E

E-

 

Axis: “AS GOD AS MY WITNESS HE GOT A SHOULDER UP!”

 

Kinkel: “NOOOOOO!”

 

MacPhisto: “Top flight match-up!”

 

King: “I thought…it looked like he hit it flush…”

 

Francis can’t believe it and he’s literally in disbelief. Kivell tries to tell him the match is not over but Francis just sits there in shock. After about thirty seconds T-bone gets up to one knee. Francis is still in Lala land and doesn’t even notice. All the screams of Kinkel can’t wake him outta this daze but a club to his back from T-bone does. After a few more hard shots the red-faced marinader lets him put the shaken Francis in a standing head scissors and chicken wings both arms…

 

Axis: “Could we see it again? The Trump Card! The Tiger Driver 91!!”

 

But Francis powers out and back body drops him over…

 

 

But T-bone doesn’t release the chicken wings and flips over powerbomb pinning the Franchise. The crowd roars in approval counting along loudly with Kivell!

 

Axis: “BONER COUNTERS THE BACK BODY DROP FROM HIS TIGER DRIVER INTO A SUNSET FLIP TIGER BOMB!!”

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE-

 

 

 

Axis: “Francis clapped his calves and broke up the pin fall…”

 

Kinkel: “Yeah. GO Mak!”

 

MacPhisto: “Wow!”

 

T-bone now is the one that can’t believe it he just stands staring at Kivell until he just can’t stand it and breaks down in the center of the ring. He bangs his fist as Francis finally shakes the cobwebs out and has risen again like a phoenix. He drops an elbow to the back of boner’s neck

 

 

And repeats…

 

 

And repeats again until he’s able to place him in a standing head scissors and chicken wings both arms…

 

Kinkel: “Do it!”

 

And Francis hits the move T-bone couldn’t. The Tiger Driver 91.

 

ONE

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

THREE!

 

Axis: “It’s over…”

 

 

 

 

 

MacPhisto: “Don’t lie to the viewers cause you want the match to end!”

 

Axis: “Okay…HE KICKED-OUT! T-BONE KICKED OUT OF HIS OWN TRUMP CARD…THE TIGER DRIVER 91.”

 

Francis just finally snaps as Kivell waves off the three count. He goes ballistic and nails him with numerous rights and after he’s done…he falls to the mat crying like a baby! Actually crying!

 

MacPhisto: “Is he crying? Are you CRYING! There’s no CRYING IN WRESTLING!!”

 

Axis: “Tell him that cause he’s doing it…”

 

King: “Poor Mak’s had a nervous breakdown…”

 

 

And finally after about a full minute or two T-bone starts to twitch. He rises to his feet like possessed by something dark. Francis can only do the same as the two men trade right hands on legs like rubber bands.

 

Then the Franchise breaks the flow and goes for an Irish whip…

 

And the boner reverses it …

 

But Francis re-reverses the reversal sending him into the ropes. T-bone comes back skids to a stop with a heavy right hand…

 

And another…

 

Axis: “It looks like he’s setting up the roaring elbow again…”

 

Kinkel: “Please god, don’t let him hit it again. Mak barely kick-out last time and it was mid way in the match!”

 

MacPhisto: “Wrolling Elbow…~!”

 

But Francis parries the shot with his two forearms and pushes T-bone back towards the ropes while signaling someone in the crowd.

 

MacPhisto: “Missahs…”

 

Axis: “What the hell was Francis just doing?”

 

Tyler Kinkel yells over from ringside to the booth.

 

Kinkel: “A master plan Edwin, Axis and King. A plan from a true evil genius.”

 

King: “Who is that coming out of the crowd. Is that-?”

 

T-bone comes slowly back at Francis who jogged forward and had hit the mat with his last energy. T-bone hops over him onto the bent down shoulders of the Amazin One…Mike Van Siclen who had just entered the ring from the crowd. As he stands up, he hesitates a little remembering an injury from long ago but drops down anyway, stuffing the European Champion into the mat with a modified sit-out back body drop spike piledriver!!! The only other move it could be compared to is the Kryptonite Krunch but even that can’t make T-bone’s head go splat, crackle, pop in the center of the ring like this move!!!

 

KaDoompah!!!

 

Axis: "VANSLAMINATOR!! VANSLAMINATOR!!!!"

 

King: “Uh…daaaaaamn!”

 

MacPhisto: “No comment here…”

 

Axis: “Game Over…”

 

Van Siclen seeing Francis is too tired to get up drags him over to the boner placing him on top. Siclen then moves to Kivell giving him a quick kick to the ribs and dashes out of the ring. Minutes seem like days and seconds seem like hours as Kivell crawls into position, oblivious to MVS, to make the count…

 

ONE

 

 

Axis: “Not like this…look MVS right there outside the ring Kivell…”

 

 

 

T

WO

 

 

 

King: “After all that happened to T-bone’s neck he’s toast.”

 

 

 

T

 

H

 

MacPhisto: Come on T-bone one last kick-out!”

 

R

 

EE!

 

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Funyon: “And The winner of this match “the Franchise” MAAAAK FRANNNNNCCCIIISSSS!

 

Mike Van Siclen, Tyler Kinkel and Mak Francis stand over T-bone in the ring as the camera zoom in on the booth.

 

Axis: "Well this has been a pretty unbelievable match. We had counters, kick-outs, trump cards and the revealing of a new sWo member in Mike Van Siclen just after Fugue received help from the sWo."

 

MacPhisto: “The sWo was true to its words and introduced a new member that had a impact on tonight festivities in Ash’s backyard. And with this crusade against Insane Luchador for the treatment of the New Sound will Fugue be the next sWo talent . And what the hell are they doing now…”

 

Mak Francis Kinkel and MVS are now dragging T-bone through the crowd and towards the swimming pool that will be used for the main event. As they get to the pool the camera zooms in on the three men and you can pick up the end of their conversation…

 

Francis: -ushed me to my limit Boner…I’ll give you that.

 

MVS: “Too bad you have to go for a swim…”

 

Francis and MVS attempt to throw him into the pool but stop all of a sudden and laugh saying a few just kiddings. But finally Francis and MVS lower themselves into the empty pool and catch T-bone as Kinkel pushes him in. Francis locks on the dragon sleeper that he attempted to put T-bone in during their match begging for him to tap. T-Bone doesn’t submit to the terrible hold so Francis grapevines his leg and drops back crushing his skull and neck into the concrete. He and MVS leave the pool satisfied as T-bone lies in a pool of his own blood.

 

Axis: “What the hell was that all about. Did I miss something?”

 

MacPhisto: “I think Francis just wanted to try out that new move he never got to hit in his match. It looked like pretty devastating from where I’m sitting…”

 

King: “Now that was worthy of concussion junction!”

 

And about a few minutes EMT’s rush the scene trying to help T-bone as he makes his way out off the pool blood flowing from the back of his head.

 

King: “Look the EMT’s are trying to help T-bone but he won’t let them. What a fool!”

 

MacPhisto: “As T-bone walks out of that pool to get his belt on his own power all I can say is that everybody should respect that man!”

 

King: “Except the sWo!”

 

MacPhisto: “Let’s go to a commercial break to get ready for our main event.”

 

Axis: “When we return the SJL World title is up for grabs as CIA takes on Renegade. Can the Renebreak score one more time and give us a 2 time World Champ or does CIA become the fastest rookie to ever win the SJL World Title…stay tuned….

 

[And SJL Wrathapalooza goes to commercial break]

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest HVilleThugg

They have come in droves, young and old, clad in their T-shirts, and all for the same purpose. Blessed are the patient as the main event is moments away, as the crowd come prepared in full SWF regalia, eagerly awaiting the main event. The crowd is roped off as a burly security guard frogmarches in front of them.

 

“Hello and welcome back to SJL Wrathpalooza even!” Axis booms with a greeting.

 

“Edwin Macphisto here alongside King and Axis at ringside, or poolside in this case!”

 

“Main event coming up very shortly, Hell in a swimming pool!” King says with a slightly overexerted tone of dread.

 

“Don’t let the name of the event fool you folks, the pool has been completely drained and the floor is constructed of nothing but concrete. No mats and no padding, just harsh unforgiving concrete.” Axis says in response to King.

 

“Renegade and C.I.A are the guinea pigs used to test this match to decide who will be the SJL world champion. Pinfall or submission must be scored in the ring, I mean pool.”

 

The opening instrumental to the Canadian national anthem kicks up as the crowd follows it up by a correlative sing along that echoes through the pool.

 

“OOOOO CA-NA-DA!”

 

The music mutates into “Secret Agent Man” accompanied by an intense wave of devotion from the crowd as their screams can be heard from the far corners of the backyard. C.I.A walks through the crowd with microphone in hand as he prepares to make his cherished opening speech.

 

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! GREETINGS FROM THE FROZEN NORTH!” C.I.A hollers. He is clearly hyped up for the match because he is vociferating his voice louder than ever before. C.I.A gets passed the sea of frantic flesh so desperate to touch their Canadian hero. Some of them get their wish as C.I.A slaps there’re oh so lucky hands as he makes his way down to the pool.

 

“Tonight’s Main Event is the HELL IN A SWIMMING POOL MATCH! In order to win, one of the contestants must score a pinfall or submission in the ring to determine THE NEW S-J-L WORLD CHAMMMPION! Introducing first, from Ontario Canada, weighing in at 237lbs…C-I-A!”

 

C.I.A sets foot into the vacuous pool and walks to the center before pushing the microphone up to his lips.

 

“RRRAISE YOUR VOICES UP! Let the people smile. Cause I’m here and I’m bringing THE CANADIAN STYLE!”

 

C.I.A extracts his jacket from his ring attire and walks to the edge of the pool. With one quick toss C.I.A throws it into the ravenous crowd. C.I.A then walks back to the pool and tosses his microphone towards Funyon, which almost knocks him out as Funyon clumsily tries to catch it.

 

“C.I.A has climbed up the JL ladder so quickly, getting to the finals of the word title tournament and now the fan favorite to win the vacated world title.” Axis says.

 

“PICK UP THE PACE!”

 

The opening of “(SIC)” by Slipknot lacerates through the crowd as Renegade appears through the crowd. The volume of noise produced by Ash’s surround sound speakers is easily overpowered by the sheer quantity of abuse from the choleric crowd. Renegade makes his way through the crowd, unable to do his self high-five due to his restricted vicinity. Renegade instead spends his stance time to make sure the crowd understands the feeling is more the neutral, and takes his time to flip off and shout abuse as many people as he can with an attitude that almost seems congenital.

 

“And his opponent, from New York City, weighing at 260lbs…RRRRENNNNEGAAAADE!”

 

“Renegade managing to get through to the finals by beating Silent in a hard fought match, and looks set to win the World title for a second time.” Axis says.

 

“You’re damn right he is, he’s won every JL belt there is, and how many has C.I.A won? That’s right, nada!” King replies.

 

“Well Renegade has been in the JL a BUTT-load longer than C.I.A has.”

 

Renegade makes his way to the pool alive thanks to security. Renegade intrudes the pool by the shallow end and locks eyes with C.I.A. Both men position themselves in the heart of the pool as official Matthew Kivell also enters. Kivell raises the world title over his head to elucidate what these two men are fighting for tonight. Both men take a glimpse of the belt as Kivell calls for the bell.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Renegade filches the belt out of the ref’s hands and locks his eyes back on C.I.A. Renegade and C.I.A continue to stare each other down, with neither man even blinking, fearing that it will cost them a hit. Renegade sways the gold from side to side as he holds it outwards in C.I.A’s direction. C.I.A gazes at the prize that is offer, as Renegade starts to talk trash to his opponent. The words are inaudible but everyone can lip read the curse words that Renegade is using. Renegade continues to loosen his tongue with his vast vocabulary of insults and BAM! C.I.A throws his right arm outwards, and lands it right into Renegade’s anatomy. The world title drops out of Renegade’s hands, making sure that it won’t be used for devious purposes. The match is now fully underway, as Renegade retaliates with a hard right arm of his own. Its punch for punch, blow after blow as these two superstars unload their fists onto each other’s bodies. After a countless round of punches, C.I.A manages to momentarily subdue Renegade. C.I.A reaches out for Renegade’s hair but Renegade lunges his open hand outward and with one fluid stroke he skims his hand over C.I.A’s face. Renegade eyes claw into C.I.A’s eye sockets, ephemerally stunning his opponent. C.I.A buries his hands into his face from the shot to the eyes as Renegade sweeps his arm over C.I.A’s head. Renegade begins to sprint as he carries himself and C.I.A towards the edge of the pool. As soon as they are a stone throw away Renegade pitches his arm to the side and releases the grip on C.I.A’s hair, which causes C.I.A to collide headfirst into the concrete edge. C.I.A slumps to the floor as Renegade takes his middle finger and extends it to C.I.A in a flip-off.

 

“A reminder folks that this match is no DQ, these two men can do anything as long as the winning fall is in the pool!” Axis says.

 

“Every fall in the pool is about ten times more painful as it would be if done in the ring. There are no mats or any pads of any sort.”

 

Renegade reaches down for C.I.A and claws his nails into the flesh under C.I.A’s chin and heaves him back up to his feet. With no hesitation Renegade fires a punch into C.I.A’s face, causing him to totter back. The back of C.I.A’s head stumbles back into the wall, causing him to dip down onto the floor. Renegade picks up the World title belt that the ref forgot to remove from the ring as he once again picks C.I.A up from the floor. Renegade brings the belt in front of C.I.A’s stunned face, almost taunting him with it. Renegade tosses the belt to the outside and again hurls C.I.A’s face into the ledge with both hands. C.I.A falls to the floor again as Renegade brings both arms up, ready to shower C.I.A down in punches. C.I.A darts forward and catches Renegade by the waist, bringing him down to the floor. Renegade falls like a toppled redwood as his head bounces off the concrete. Renegade is instantly floored as C.I.A positions himself over Renegade’s chest, beating his face down with his knuckles as all of his weight is being used to put pressure on Renegade’s chest. After a hurricane of right knuckles C.I.A brings himself back up and takes a few steps backwards as he allows Renegade to rise. Renegade staggers back up as C.I.A makes a lunatic dash towards him. C.I.A pitches his own body outwards and connects into Renegade’s gut. Renegade is pushed down by a combination of C.I.A’s velocity and weight as C.I.A jars Renegade’s head and back across the overgrown slab of concrete with a crossbody. C.I.A stays on for the cover:

 

ONE!

 

TW- Renegade kicks out.

 

“C.I.A getting the first pin attempt with a crossbody.” Axis says, giving his usual play by play.

 

“As we just saw this match will probably base around sheer brutality rather than wrestling ability, and on that Renegade is probably going to have the upper hand.” Edwin says.

 

“Probably? Renegade is an all out brawler, its like this match was made for him!” King responds.

 

C.I.A flows his hands through Renegade’s hair and clutches onto some strands, forcing Renegade up. C.I.A latches onto Renegade’s arm and propels him towards the edge of the pool, but Renegade side-steps to reverse the force and bypasses it into an Irish whip of his own. Before Renegade releases C.I.A’s arm to complete the Irish whip, he oppressively tugs onto the arm, which causes C.I.A to be hurled back towards Renegade rather than the wall. Renegade levels his arm on a horizontal plane and THUD! C.I.A is taken from the neck down onto the concrete in a raucous clothesline. C.I.A winces from the impact as Renegade steers himself over to C.I.A’s lower body. With unremitting triumph Renegade seizes C.I.A’s left leg by the ankle and pulls it outwards. Renegade repositions himself towards C.I.A’s head as he still holds the back of C.I.A’s ankle and pushes downwards, causing C.I.A’s leg to be almost driven up to his head. Renegade then slots C.I.A’s left leg in-between his knees and makes a small hop forward. C.I.A’s knee crackles under the pressure as Renegade picks himself back up.

 

“Renegade looking to target the left leg of C.I.A, at first it seemed like perhaps it was the quadriceps but right now its looking like the left knee.” Axis says.

 

“I don’t think even Rene knows what he’s damaging, he’s seeing C.I.A in pain so he just does it again. The boy isn’t the best mat wrestler in the world.” Edwin suggests.

 

Renegade tows C.I.A up to his feet and contiguously gives forth a kick to C.I.A’s left leg. C.I.A doubles over in torment as Renegade oscillates his ring forearm inwards, but C.I.A inclines his body to narrowly dodge a malignant clothesline. Renegade gyrates a full one eighty degree turn as C.I.A circles his leg in an anticlockwise motion for a spinning heel kick. Renegade also uses the same strategy and ducks, leaving both men back to back with each other. Renegade briskly pulls C.I.A down by the back of the head in a falling neckbreaker and covers:

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

Kickout!

 

Renegade brings himself back up with complacency as he looks down at C.I.A’s body. Renegade superciliously stomps into C.I.A’s chest with his boot; his manic yet utterly commanding presence doing nothing but filling the pit with insults from the crowd. Renegade stomps, plods and tramples over C.I.A’s body as unleashes an influx of awe-inspiring stomps. Renegade pulls C.I.A towards the ladder on the shallow end of the pool and places his head between the bottom two steps. Renegade bludgeons the back of C.I.A’s head with his foot, trying to force it into the gap of the two steps. Renegade clutches onto the curved handle structure at the top of the ladder for leverage, forcing C.I.A’s head deeper and deeper into the narrow gap. CIA’s facial expressions are invisible, but he is clearly in anguish as his arms twitch madly as Renegade applies the pressure.

 

“Renegade using what little there is in swimming pool to his advantage.” Axis says.

 

“Excellent use of the steps!” King says smugly.

 

“I would like to say something but its no DQ, its legal!” Edwin says as he sympathises with C.I.A.

 

Renegade seizes C.I.A by the back of his T-shirt and hauls him up from the steps. Renegade applies a front face lock on C.I.A and puts the C.I.A’s near arm over his own neck and shoulders. Renegade latches onto the dazed C.I.A by the tights and renders a quick fall backwards; Renegade lifts C.I.A up slightly as they are both falling, snapping C.I.A over on his back. C.I.A’s spine makes ponderous contact with the concrete as C.I.A hollers in torment. C.I.A rolls onto his back in hope that it will alleviate the pain, as Renegade slaps C.I.A derisively in the back of head, daring him to get back up if he can. Renegade rolls C.I.A back onto his back and covers:

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

T- Kickout!

 

Renegade may have wasted valuable time for his derision, but seems to be left unruffled as he puts a hand over C.I.A’s mask and hauls him back up to his feet. Renegade cudgels C.I.A once more with his fists, dazing the defenceless C.I.A on the spot as Renegade pitches C.I.A towards the ladder on the shallow end with an Irish whip. C.I.A sprints towards the ladder as the crowd wince, expecting to see C.I.A’s skull connect into the steel but C.I.A uses the given momentum of the whip to clamber up the steps and scales to the edge of the pool. Renegade looks in shock as C.I.A fuses the whip into a vault off the ladder. C.I.A interlocks his fingers as he raises his arms and comes down onto Renegade’s head, cracking a double axehandle from up top in a seismic shift. Renegade shrewdly falls to the floor to a roaring ambience as C.I.A pulls back up to his feet. Renegade, still not wholly stunned, gets back to his knees. C.I.A come charging forward from behind Renegade and leaps forward. C.I.A catches Renegade by the head and sends him sprawling on the concrete, plastering his face into the cold unforgiving concrete with a bulldog. Renegade shields his face with both hands, clutching it tightly in a headlong attempt to relieve the pain. C.I.A covers Renegade by the shoulders in a pin:

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

TH- Shoulder up!

 

“C.I.A just got back in the game by scoring with that high risk double axehandle!” Axis says.

 

“Feeble feeble offence!” King mutters.

 

“The crowd really backing up the Canadian Intelligence Agent.” Edwin says.

 

C.I.A picks Renegade up from the floor and pitches his fist towards Renegade’s head, connecting in a couple of harsh right hands, Renegade retaliates with refused style snarls but it too addled from the previous beating to fight back. C.I.A clamps onto Renegade’s arm and with a flick of the wrist, he sends Renegade bolting to one of the walls of the pool. Renegade has just enough time to revolve his body before impact as his back collides into the concrete rather than his head. A jaded Renegade droops down the wall of the pool as an irrefutable C.I.A comes racing down with his body almost completely levelled on a horizontal plane. C.I.A officiously plants Renegade’s back into the wall with a ponderous shoulder block. Renegade vacillates forward from the excessive impact as C.I.A lies in waiting, but with a downward stab Renegade hacks at C.I.A’s knee with a kick. Renegade’s previous work on C.I.A’s knee seems to have paid off as it stops him dead in his tracks. Renegade fires another foot, but this one is directed at C.I.A’s midsection as a set up for the Renebreak. Before the kick can connect C.I.A orbits around Renegade and wraps his arm around Renegade’s neck in an inverted facelock. C.I.A pushes down as coils his other arm under Renegade’s shoulder, causing Renegade to tilt back to the point where he is almost lying on C.I.A’s knees. C.I.A locks in the dragon sleeper as the ref stoops down to see if Renegade gives.

 

“Renegade going for that brutal kick which he almost always uses to set up the Renebreak, but C.I.A counters into a dragon sleeper.” Axis says

 

“It could end in submission right now!” Edwin says.

 

“Or it could not!” King replies.

 

Renegade shakes his head time and time again when the ref asks him whether or not to throw in the towel. C.I.A cranks Renegade’s neck slightly more to put in more tension in the hold. Renegade knows if this hold continues it could be all over. To Renegade’s sheer luck C.I.A’s grip over Renegade’s arm loosens, allowing Renegade to stretch his arm out and haphazardly manages to dig one of his fingers into C.I.A’s eye socket. C.I.A releases the hold to tend to his own eye as Renegade brings himself back up with a high-octane burst of motion, Renegade slings his arm over C.I.A’s neck. Renegade rotates C.I.A’s neck inwards at a perilous angle and drops down with all his weight. C.I.A land onto his temple, the power of one thousand ice-cream headaches shooting through his nerves as Renegade hooks up the leg:

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THR- Kickout!

 

Renegade grabs C.I.A by the head and moves towards the side of the pool. Renegade pitches C.I.A’s head into the concrete to stupefy him. Renegade places both of his legs over the ledge over the ledge and rolls to the outside. Renegade takes a couple of steps back and looks at C.I.A with a thoughtful, measuring look. C.I.A is still standing inside the pool, but his perplexed head is slanted over the ledge. Renegade paces down the ledge and falls to his knees in C.I.A’s direction and drives his elbow right into the back of C.I.A’s neck. C.I.A’s body twitches in response to the blow as Renegade paces back to his original position, only to come back and drop to his knee. Renegade’s knee crunches into the back of C.I.A’s neck, pressing C.I.A’s face into the concrete tilling of the swimming pool ledge. Renegade clutches onto C.I.A’s hair from the outside and drags him out from the pool.

 

“Renegade just punishing, abusing C.I.A.” Axis says.

 

“C.I.A, right now would be a good time for a comeback.” Edwin says.

 

“C’mon Renegade, wipe the floor with the maplehead.” King says as he looks at C.I.A’s maple leaf mask.

 

Renegade again brings C.I.A up by the mask and throws him over the ropes into the crowd. The crowd is held back by security to give both men some space as Renegade hammers down on C.I.A with an influx of stomps. Renegade places his foot over C.I.A’s neck and raises his remaining leg, which causes all of his weight to press down onto the windpipe. Renegade withdraws his foot, leaving C.I.A gasping and panting for air. Renegade swivels his head to both sides, viewing the irascible crowd. Renegade shrugs off the scathing remarks and responds with his best friend, his index finger. Renegade particularly homes in on a group of teens that have brought in a Canadian flag with them and have placed it over their heads. Renegade unloads the two careening planeloads of attitude he’s carrying with him onto the group of youngsters with audacious cacophony. Renegade finally leaves them alone and turns his back towards C.I.A, but to Renegade’s consternation C.I.A is nowhere to be seen. Renegade examines the floor where he left C.I.A when all of a sudden Renegade’s eyes are blinded by a sheet of Red and White that cloaks his face. The sheet slithers down Renegade’s head and wraps around Renegade’s windpipe. The crowd burst in ecstasy, as C.I.A is tying nothing but the Canadian flag around Renegade’s neck.

 

“THE CANADIAN FLAG OF DOOM!” Edwin shouts.

 

“Outside interference! C.I.A used that flag from the crowd!” King moans.

 

“No DQ, C.I.A can use whatever he wants.” Axis says as a reminder.

 

“While Renegade was too busy mouthing off the crowd, C.I.A managed to obtain the flag from that pack of kids.”

 

C.I.A pulls the flag as far down as he can, making Renegade truly choke on his derogatory words. C.I.A finally releases the flag from Renegade’s neck, causing Renegade to fall down beneath the crowds feet, almost choked out by the strain of the flag around his neck. C.I.A pulls his body back as Renegade exhaustedly raises to his feet with his eyes glazed over. C.I.A suddenly shoots his leg outward towards Renegade’s face. C.I.A’s boot smacks right under Renegade’s jaw in a thrust kick, causing Renegade to fall retrogressively. The crowd behind him runs in fear of a two hundred and sixty pound six foot six man from falling on top of them as Renegade falls and CLANG! Renegade’s body connects into a cluster of vacated steel chairs. Those people might have lost their seats, but they still seem sanguine as they kick off a “HOLY-SH*T” chant. C.I.A places both of his hands over his mask and readjusts it slightly for comfort. C.I.A takes a look at the screaming, hugging masses of fans and delivers a bow to them, then brings up over his head the Canadian flag in pride. C.I.A continues to bow and wave his flag as a new chant in the form of “C-I-A” commences. C.I.A returns the flag to the group of exhilarated youngsters and brings his head down for another bow and CRACK! With an incomprehensibly heavy and raucous chair shot, C.I.A is floored instantly by a sweat saturated Renegade who has acquired a chair from his crash zone. C.I.A is floored with one foul cruel swoop of cold steel as Renegade glowers at his fallen victim. C.I.A crawls back towards the pool, but his sluggish pace costs his dearly as Renegade trudges with him every step of the way, delivering one brutal chair shot after another with a deranged blend of force to back it up. Both men make it back towards the ledge of the pool as Renegade tosses the chair to the inside of the ring. Renegade lifts C.I.A up, and applies a headlock, as at the same time he grabs onto C.I.A attire, getting him in a suplex position. Renegade makes a sharp tug as C.I.A goes spine first into the concrete with a snap suplex. C.I.A holds his back in sheer anguish as Renegade picks him back up, locking on another headlock. Renegade again plucks down with tremendous ferocity as C.I.A is left open jawed on the tiles. With the suplex hold still well intact Renegade pulls C.I.A up for a third time and turns his back to the interior of the pool.

 

“If Renegade is going to do what I think he’s doing, game over for C.I.A.” Edwin says on the edge of his seat.

 

“Happy landings C.I.A!” King says happily.

 

“C.I.A has withstanded so much punishment, but I really don’t know if he can go on if this is nailed.” Axis says.

 

Renegade prepares to lug C.I.A over for a third snap suplex, but C.I.A manages to free his arm and creep in two elbows to Renegade’s cheeks. Renegade releases the suplex hold as C.I.A makes one complete circle of fluid motion with a spin, swinging his forearm forwards and clouting Renegade dead in the forehead in a spinning forearm to complete the roaring elbow. C.I.A pushes the forearm against Renegade with all his weight, sending both men off balance and crashing into the concrete pit C.I.A drapes his arm over Renegade creating a very weak pin, but a pin nonetheless.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THRE- NO! Shoulder up!

 

Both men lay cold on the concrete, leaving a noticeable vacuum of time in the match. After a long delay, Renegade is the first to get back up as he lurches forward, waiting for C.I.A to rise. C.I.A lethargically brings himself back to his feet as Renegade makes a beeline to C.I.A. Renegade charges with his body incline, ready to bulldoze C.I.A down in a devastating spear. C.I.A uses what little energy he has right now to jump up slightly and clutches onto the ledge of the pool, causing Renegade to shoot himself in the foot metaphorically speaking by spearing his own body into the concrete wall. Renegade’s head almost ricochets off the wall as Renegade crumples to the floor, his muscles heavy with ache as he pants arduously to regain lost oxygen. C.I.A hops down to the floor again and grabs Renegade up the hair, with Renegade having no control to his own balance as C.I.A paces back and takes a good look at Renegade’s pitiful state. With a slight pause C.I.A dashes out at Renegade as he withdraws his elbow towards the defenceless Renegade. C.I.A bolts right into Renegade head with his elbow bone, goring his elbow in-between Renegade’s eyes. Renegade lifelessly collapses to the floor again as C.I.A makes the cover:

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

THR- Kickout!

 

“Renegade first misses the spear, now taken down with the bionic elbow.” Axis says.

 

“C.I.A is sure playing it lucky tonight.” King mumbles.

 

C.I.A reaches for the only object in the pool besides Renegade’s body, the steel chair. C.I.A stands in the middle of the howling pit of spectators that roar in satisfaction as C.I.A picks up the steel chair. During this time Renegade has sprawled towards the side of the pool, slumping down in an attempt to try and get back up. C.I.A holds the chair with one hand as he makes another psychotic spurt of energy towards Renegade and leaps forwards with both feet stretched outwards. C.I.A brings the chair in front of his legs almost like a skateboard trick and collides into Renegade’s face. Renegade quivers under the plethora of pain caused by C.I.A as he dropkicks the chair into Renegade’s face. The crowd literally explodes in gratification as C.I.A drags the beaten Renegade away from wall and makes a cover as the crowd chants along to each count:

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THRE- NO!

 

Renegade somehow raises his shoulder off the concrete.

 

C.I.A carries the chair in one hand as he drags Renegade by the arm with another. C.I.A lugs Renegade down the deep end and to the very bottom of the pool. C.I.A deposits the chair over Renegade’s chest as he makes his way towards the ladder situated in the deep end. C.I.A notices how far up the ladder is due to the lack of water and leaps upwards with both arms surpassing over his head. C.I.A manages to grip onto the bottom step, but finds it increasingly difficult to pull himself up, as he has depleted a huge quantity of energy not so long ago. C.I.A continues to pull himself up and CRACK! Renegade has used the time to get back up to his feet and smashes the chair in the back of C.I.A’s unguarded head. C.I.A’s face collides into the concrete wall as Renegade delivers an almighty chair shot. C.I.A drops from the ladder onto his head as Renegade inhales grievously.

 

“Renegade just smashing C.I.A’s skull into the concrete with the steel chair!” Says a horrified.

 

“C.I.A using all his energy in one go was a bad idea.” Edwin says.

 

“C.I.A could not have blocked the shot because his arms were being used to pull himself up, and he couldn’t have seen it coming because his back was turned towards Renegade. Pure genius.” King says.

 

Renegade drops the steel chair to the floor and wearily drags C.I.A to the shallow side of the pool. A stream of blood trickles down from C.I.A’s mask and down to the floor as the fans watch in horror. Renegade tosses C.I.A to the outside and quickly follows. Renegade steers C.I.A in direction of the announcers’ tables and with one mighty right hand to the kisser, C.I.A is laid out on the table. Renegade mounts the table himself and pulls C.I.A up to his feet. Renegade quickly fires his foot outwards and catches in the midsection. C.I.A buckles over as Renegade turns his back towards C.I.A and reaches out for his head to slip in the ¾ facelock. Suddenly, C.I.A pokes his head under one of the Renegade's arms. With a painful cry C.I.A lifts Renegade up so he is on his shoulders. C.I.A falls backwards as he lifts Renegade up from the announcing table and into the Spanish tables behind them. Both men land back first as the table crumples under both men’s weight, shattering into irregular chunks and splinters.

 

“Renegade going for the Renebreak yet again but C.I.A counters in belly to back suplex!” Axis says.

 

“The momentum keeps changing back and forth, but there must be a pin fall in the ring.” Edwin adds.

 

Both men lay crawl back into the pool from the shallow end and after a lengthy period of twitching, Renegade is the first to rise. Renegade reaches out for one of C.I.A’s legs and then seizes the other one as well. Renegade has both of C.I.A’s legs and crosses them over, flipping him on his back in a sharpshooter, and locking in the ankle hold to complete the Rage! C.I.A screams in torment as Renegade leans back to make sure not a drop of torque is wasted. C.I.A can see his own collect in a puddle on the floor in front of his but he refuses to tap out. The ref asks again but C.I.A shakes his head once more. Renegade tires from a move that is spawning no submission and releases CIA’s body from the hideous hold. CIA moves sinuously over the cold pre-cast as he brings himself back to his feet, as Renegade hunches over in waiting. Renegade discharges his foot outwards into C.I.A’s gut. Renegade’s abruptly connect into the lower midsection, which forces C.I.A to buckle over. Renegade fleetly turns his back towards a stunned C.I.A and prepares to bring his arms over C.I.A’s head to snag on a ¾ facelock, but C.I.A places both of his hands over Renegade’s exposed shoulders blades. With a potent shove, Renegade is propelled towards the brim of the pool. Renegade is jostled into the pool wall head first, his head rattling against the concrete. Renegade drunkenly stammers back from the impact with his front towards his opponent, as C.I.A coils his left arm over Renegade’s left right shoulder. C.I.A lightly wraps his free arm over Renegade’s right arm and suddenly submerges onto his back. Renegade plummets face down into the concrete floor as C.I.A performs a downward spiral. Renegade is out like a light on the floor, not even having enough energy to roll onto his front as the crowd shriek in an unbearably loud burst of noise.

 

“VIA RAIL! C.I.A HITS THE VIA RAIL!” Axis hollers.

 

“We could have a new champion!” Edwin says excitedly.

 

The crowd raises from their seats in titillation as they wait for C.I.A to regain his wits and cover Renegade. In due time C.I.A does indeed rise, but he makes his way down the shallow end of the pool instead of going for the cover.

 

“The guy’s taken to many shots to the noggin! He’s going the wrong way!” Edwin says.

 

C.I.A makes his way towards the shallow end and rolls his body to the ledge allowing him to depart from the pool. The crowd’s response dies rapidly as C.I.A steers his direction to the surviving announcing table. C.I.A reaches his arms into the inside of the table and withdraws his arm, causing the crowd to explode in excitement again as C.I.A reveals just what he has produced…a hockey stick.

 

“C.I.A JUST GOT A HOCKEY STICK!” Axis screams.

 

“And from our announce table too…what else is down here?” King says as he looks under the table with a curious eye.

 

C.I.A slowly makes his way down the pool and reaches Renegade who has just about managed to get back up. C.I.A swings the hockey stick across the floor and hooks it across Renegade’s ankle, causing Renegade to stumble to his knees. C.I.A brings the stick up and forces it down with uncensored brutality, almost trying to behead Renegade with a downward chop across the neck. Renegade falls on his face as C.I.A goes for the cover, the crowd still chanting along:

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

THRE- NO! Kickout!

 

C.I.A takes no fret, as he now seems intent on only one thing, hurting Renegade. C.I.A pulls Renegade back up again and with a fast swing of the stick, C.I.A sends Renegade down again with a lethally accurate shot directly aimed at the head. Renegade raises his head off the concrete to reveal hideous gash oozing with blood courtesy of C.I.A. Renegade is still in after shock from the excess of blood that he is excreting as C.I.A climbs to the outside of the pool and marches towards the ledge that looks over the deep end. C.I.A gestures a dive with his hands as he brings his hockey stick into the air.

 

“C.I.A going for the Air Canada, but the depth of the pool is higher than any turnbuckle.” Axis says.

 

“What’s he going to do with that hockey stick?” Edwin asks.

 

“C.I.A you idiot, your going to ruin everything!” King shouts, knowing that this probably it.

 

C.I.A turns his back towards the inside of the pool and gives a quick salute to the crowd before flipping backward in a moonsault. As C.I.A gets closer to his victim, he swivels his body in a quarter twist and positions himself in an elbow drop. C.I.A points the hockey stick downwards, using it as an extensive and more damaging elbow as he plummets and…

 

 

 

 

THUD! Renegade rolls away as C.I.A JUST misses. Renegade covers C.I.A’s grounded body and wearily hooks up the leg:

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

THRE- NO! NO! C.I.A lifts the shoulder up.

 

The panic-stricken Renegade bails in alarm, as his entire arsenal of moves has been proved useless. Renegade rolls his body to the outside of the pool and desperately shakes his head from side to side, looking for somewhere to just get away from C.I.A. Renegade looks at the one untouched thing in the arena, the five meter diving board by the deep end. Renegade desperately makes his way toward the ladder underneath the board and climbs for his life. During this time C.I.A has managed to recover and is in hot pursuit of Renegade. Renegade scrambles up the ladder as C.I.A follows, hockey stick still in hand. Renegade finally reaches the end of the ladder as C.I.A follows. C.I.A steps foot onto the board as Renegade crawls backward till the point where if Renegade moves back anymore, he’s a goner. Renegade pleads to C.I.A as he calls for timeout but C.I.A raises the hockey stick up over his head, ready to strike Renegade down one final time.

 

“Don’t do it C.I.A, there are better ways to win the belt.” Axis pleads.

 

Renegade prays to as many religious figure heads as he can think of, but it’s too late to repent now. C.I.A prepares to bring the final fatal blow that knocks Renegade off the board. Renegade thinks fast and with pure desperation brings his arm in-between C.I.A’s legs and drives it upwards. C.I.A is stunned monetarily from the low blow as Renegade clutches C.I.A by the head and with one pitch; he throws C.I.A clean off the diving board. C.I.A comes crashing down into the concrete, his body actually giving a very small amount of back-bounce as another “HOLY SH*T” chant breaks out.

 

“OH MY GOD! C.I.A just fell off that diving board into the concrete floor.” Says a horrified Axis.

 

“It’s all over now.” Edwin says grimly.

 

Renegade slowly climbs back down the ladder and sinks back into the pool. Renegade covers the C.I.A’s broken, beaten and unconscious body:

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, here is your winner…AND NEW S-J-L WORLD CHAMMMPION…RENNNEGAAADE!”

 

The ref pulls Renegade up and raises his arm up in victory before bestowing him with the World title. Renegade shakes then shivers with delight as he raises the belt over his bruised and bloodied body, his face rigid with veritcal strands of blood.

 

“As much as I hate to say this, Renegade is our new World champion!” Axis says.

 

“Somebody go and check on C.I.A, man was not built to fall like that!” Says a worried Edwin.

 

“Folks that’s all the time we have for tonight, I’m Axis wishing you a goodnight.

 

(Fade to black.)

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest HVilleThugg

Long after the fans have gone home and the wrestlers retired to whatever in they are staying at, whether it be Embassy Suites or the Sunrise Motel, a man sits in the ring, actually on the turnbuckle, swinging his feet back and forth, admiring the set-up, admiring the ring, thinking back to the days of not so long ago when these same fans chanted his name in unison. He misses those days now that he has "grown up" and moved on from this hallowed square of his, and he takes every chance he gets to spend some time with an old friend.

 

Ash: Wow... we've had some kick-ass times, my friend. I've held some of my greatest matches here. The Steel Cage, Steel Chair match against Pete, the countless title shots I came oh so close to grabbing, hangin' with the original X Force Nine, and my two World Title wins... all inside this ring. But now... those are just... memories. Memories from long ago. I'm in the big leagues now. This isn't my place anymore. I wish it was.

 

Voice: Ah, spending some time with an old friend I see.

 

Ash turns around, the moonlight reflecting on those unmatching-in-color eyes and the face of Edwin MacPhisto. The Midnight Carnival leader is stand ing at ringside, He quickly hops up onto the apron and climbs into the ropes as Ash watches him the entire time.

 

Edwin: Hmmm... still the same as when you left. Those were ther days. Pokemania running wild in the SJL. Thousands of fans chanting your name. Ketchum... Ketchum... ah... those were the days. (He quickly flashes his head up, looking at Ash's face.) I guess you couldn't stay away, huh?

 

Ash: Yep. You got me. This was where I spent so much time and energy for almost a year, Eddie Mac. I really miss the JL. It was great to be able to bust out and just have fun like I did. And when you leave, you miss it like a pet you loved, so to speak.

 

Ash hops down off the turnbuckle, and quickly, he runsto the opposite ropes, bouncing off them, flying across the ring, and bouncing off the opposite ropes before he stops himself, taking a look around.

 

Ash: What I wouldn't give to run these ropes again, not just tonight, but every night. I was the guy who had always come so close to achieving his goals and being happy, but when I did... I was only happy for a bit. I'm thrilled to be in the WF, for sure... but at the same time, I miss this.

 

Edwin: Well... first off, I came out here to find you and thank you for letting us use your backyard, even if it is a bit messy.

 

Ash: Anytime, anytime. The JL ring guys came in and got most of the shit on the ground.

 

Edwin: And I guess, though you're not actually in the JLCC, if we ever have an opening, we'll call.

 

Ash's eyes open and a grin spreads across his face like a kid in a candy store, or better yet, Stryke and Wilson with a couple of bombs inside FAO Schwartz.

 

Ash: ...REALLY? YOU MEAN IT?

 

Edwin: Yes. But for now... I guess you could consider yourself an honorary member. But remember, it's just a title. you aren't actually in yet.

 

Ash is in shock as he tries to recover from the line of words Edwin just blurbbled out, but before he blanks out or goes hyper, he thinks of something, and says the first thought that comes to his mind.

 

Ash: Wow... this is one of the best days of my life. I think. No wait... maybe... nah... oh screw it. Just promise me one thing.

 

Edwin: Ummm... OK.

 

Ash: If you ever go looking for a Lieutenant Commissioner... be sure to give me a ring.

 

Edwin: Will do. Now, how about you and I go inside and watch some TV? The ring will be up for part of tomorrow, too.

 

Ash: Sure. Let's go.

 

Ash smiles as he and Edwin exit out of the ring and walk back to the mansion, but Ash has one more question for Edwin.

 

Ash: Wanna see my collection of tapes from "American Gladiators"? That show was da bomb!

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest HVilleThugg

Summary

 

- The top of the show reveals shows footage from earlier in the day. It seems that our favorite Canadian Intelligent Agent is just a bit nervous about his Hell In A Swimming Pool Match later on in the evening. In fact, he’s so nervous, he’s promoting smoking to the SWF’s younger viewers. Despite the moral pitfalls of CIA, the stage is set for a huge main event here in Ash’s backyard.

 

- Hmmm, it seems that we’ve heard the sWo talk about being respected and dominating the fed before…well, they’re at it again, but this time, they don’t have Poisyn. Francis and Y2K have replaced them, and it seems that they’re finally ready to tear a hole in the SJL. Is there a possibility of new members later in the show?

 

Cutthroat vs. Kamikaze

- And in the biggest upset in SJL history, the noob, Kamikaze, defeats the eternal jobber Cutthroat. Welcome to the SJL Kam, but it just gets harder from here.

 

- MTV Cribs with “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins…too bad he was claiming Ash’s house as his own. Former JLer and king of the undercard didn’t take too highly to that…

 

Thor © vs. "The Rising Sun" Y2K

- Thor retains…hmmm…this norse god wannabe is getting good.

 

- And just as we like it, Mike Van Siclen returns, but we locked him out. Now, if only we could do that to Cutthroat.

 

"Insane Luchadore" Andrew Rickmen vs. Fugue

- IL kicks ass, but that’s not the story here. Who’s the sWo’s newest member??

 

INTERMISSION

Commentator Pie Eating Contest

Axis vs. Edwin MacPhisto vs. Suicide King

Special Guest Judge: Sydney Sky

- SOmething crazy happened...

 

"The Franchise" Mak Francis vs. T-Bone

- T-Bone gets just a little too big for his britches, so sWo member, Mak Francis, must put the no-showing freak in his place. But wait…does the sWo have a new member? Read to find out who it is.

 

Hell in a Swimming Pool

C.I.A. vs. Renegade

- It was OHHHH so close, but Renegade is your SJL world champion...and I do believe it's 2-time!

 

- Ash reminisces about his time in the SJL with Edwin. Hey Ash, if you want, we can send you back there…and then job you to Cutthroat every show. You want that?? Didn’t think so…GET OFF THE LAWN!

 

 

TOO MANY FUCKING NO SHOWS PEOPLE!

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.
Sign in to follow this  

×