SWF From The Vault: Nathaniel Kibagami vs. Alexander Zenon

June 24, 2007

(Z and I were just discussing the Last Man Standing match and how it became the SWF's marquee match. it's unlikely that most of the current roster remembers why that is - here's one of the reasons, sans an awful lot of italics.)

The University Arena is alive tonight in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Every seat in the building is full – more than eighteen thousand SWF fans have come out in support of their favorite wrestlers this evening. Signs litter the nosebleed seats, bobbing and waving as people sit, stand, walk back and forth across the aisles. Many are here for the confrontation in the main event – John Duran and Charlie Matthews, finally colliding after two months of waiting. Many are here for the match between Annie Eclectic and Tom Flesher – one woman’s chance to finally overcome a seemingly insurmountable obstacle, and one man’s opportunity to reinsert himself in the main event.

These matches are personal, but they are not all-consuming. The participants may want a rematch a week from now, a month from now, a year from now – but they will, eventually, move on to other things. Most of the fans understand this and accept it; they look forward to new combinations and fresh rivalries, surprising alliances and unlikely partners. Most of the fans understand change...but some of them do not.

Some of them have a fondness for old hatreds and storied histories. Some of them like nothing more than bad blood that has festered and swelled over time until it has nowhere else to go but the biggest stage of all. Some of them love the theme of the pay-per-view, love the props, love the decorum, love the idea of total, all-out war. Some of them want to see two men that totally despise each other try and rend the other man from limb to ragged limb.

Those fans are here for this match.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this next matchup is not for the faint at heart,” intones Cyclone Comet in a solemn voice. “If there are young, impressionable children or pregnant women watching at home, you may want to ask them to leave the room. What is about to transpire in that very ring” – he gestures towards the ring – “is one of the most violent, brutal matches in existence, and something tells me that there will be no shortage of blood and gore at ringside.”

”Ain’t wrestling grand?” queries Bobby with a disturbing giggle. “Alex Zenon, who is currently standing in as commissioner for Mark Stevens, has booked himself against Nathaniel Kibagami in a Last Man Standing match. Zenon blames Kibagami for his own misfortunes in the SWF, and I’m inclined to agree with him.”

”Surely you cannot be so blinded by emotion as to condone the criminal actions of the interim commissioner, Robert.”

”I think we can all understand where he’s coming from, Comet. Kibagami terrorized Z and all of the Midnight Carnival two years ago, and now the Carnival is gone – Edwin was wheeled out of Genesis IV on a stretcher,” Bobby reminds. “Zenon has every right to be furious, and I’d say there’s not a soul out there watching tonight that wouldn’t do the same thing he did. Kibagami’s been on a losing streak since his first match back; Zenon sees an opportunity to right the wrongs done to him,” Riley pauses to take a sip of water, a smug expression on his face, “And I, for one, think he can get the job done tonight.”

The house lights darken, as the sound of electrical distortion hums through the air… two white lights shine down on the entrance, appearing with the drums, and flashing like a rhythmic heartbeat. Everyone at ringside abruptly looks up – it’s been a long, long time since they saw this, and they don’t want to miss it. Suddenly…

BOOM!

The guitars drop, and the arena is filled with every color in the rainbow, as spotlights sway erratically over the crowd! As the stage at the top of the trenches is illuminated by an ever-changing pallet of color, Alex Zenon slowly steps from behind them, head down. He flips his long hair out of his eyes, and surveys the crowd with a face masked with emotions. The interim commissioner is clad in the same attire he wore about a year ago—a black tanktop with a white, dual-lined cross on the front, well-worn blue jeans and a pair of basic black wrestling boots. He looks out over the crowd, and another emotion crosses his face—surprise. The reaction he recieves is amazingly mixed – there are enough cheers underneath all the boos to be noticeable; some Albuquerque fans seem to understand the notion of grudges and revenge.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following match up is a LAST MAN STANDING MATCH! There are no count-outs, no disqualifications, and only way to win is to knock your opponent down and not have him answer the ten-count! Introducing first, weighing in at two hundred and twenty-nine pounds and hailing from the Meadowlands... he is the commissioner of the SWF in Mark Stevens’ absence... ALEEEEEEX ZENON!”

As Alex makes his way down, the camera cuts to an upper-mezzanine shot of the rampway, surrounded by barbed wire, the lyrics calling in the background…

“Driven by a strange desire…

I want… what I need

Shaking as the sex takes hold…

I lost… all control…”

The lights flicker erratically over the crowd, swooping and cutting in all directions. The camera is suddenly wiped out by the blinding flash of a passing light… and refocuses with a cut to the ring, as Alex climbs up onto it and stands on first and second turnbuckles, absorbing the crowd, applause and jeers alike…

“Quite the mixed reaction to our devious commissioner, I must say. It seems that the citizenry is somewhat enamored of Zenon’s motives despite themselves!”

”Of course they are, Comet,” Riley sighs, exasperated. “I just explained this to you. Everybody understands where Zenon is coming from – everybody’s been in his position at least once before.”

“Although,” starts Cyclone, “I do not agree with Alexander’s motivation, I cannot quite fathom anyone in the crowd being familiar with a hulking ‘psychopath’ from a ‘clandestine criminal organization’ harbor a deep grudge for their ‘mentor’ and ‘end up’ destroying their ‘life,’” he finishes, adding aerial quotations all the way.

Bobby sighs. “Comet, you, of all people, have never seen Enter the Dragon? Man…”

Hopping off the turnbuckle, Alex settles into the ring, focusing entirely on the match at hand. His face is home to a kaleidoscope of thoughts and feelings – determination, fear, despair, fury, hatred...and somewhere amongst the throng, there is a touch of a confidence, as well. The camera captures a brief shot of his eyes – these emotions are all there, yes, but they seem strangely empty all the same. One gets the impression that there may not be that much left of Alex Zenon, the same way that once, there was not much left of Nathaniel Kibagami.

The arena lights are suddenly cut, and familiar words appear on the screen:

Of old the skilled first made themselves invincible

to await the enemy’s vincibility.

Invincibility lies in oneself.

Vincibility lies in the enemy.

Thus the skilled can make themselves invincible.

They cannot cause the enemy’s vincibility.

Thus it is said, “Victory can be known. It cannot be

made.”

-the Sun-Tzu, Chapter Four.”

Speak of the devil.

The Smarkstron flickers again and again, showing Kibagami’s collapse in October. He falls in slow motion; the camera catches half a dozen angles of his descent, allowing the viewers to see clearly the unnatural jarring of his neck and spine. They see an injury that could’ve – maybe should’ve – ended a career.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

But they have come to know him better than that.

BAM!

Today, the warning came in the floooooooood...

Through the sparks and smoke and the driving guitars of Nevermore comes Nathaniel Kibagami, clad in a dark red trenchcoat, clutching his steel-tipped cane. The cuts on his face have barely had time to heal, and everyone in the arena is sure he’s favoring his ribs, but he gives no outward sign of discomfort as he swiftly makes his way

down to the ring.

“Introducing second...weighing in at two hundred and sixty-one pounds and hailing from Phoenix, Arizona...NATHANIEL KIBAGAMI!"

Where Zenon’s mood is uncertain, shifting, Kibagami is calm and composed. There is no doubt in his no expression as he rolls into the ring. There is no fear in his eyes as he climbs onto the turnbuckles. He raises his arms in the crucifix pose, and there does not seem to be a thought given to his opponent.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

For Nathaniel Kibagami, this match is a foregone conclusion.

“Listen to those fans!” exclaims Comet as the lights come back up. “They may not have made up their minds about Zenon’s dastardly deeds, but they certain seem unanimous showing their support for the Silent One!”

“They’re sheep,” snorts Riley. “They cheer him because they expect to cheer him. Zenon is right about Kibagami and they know it – he’s washed up, he’s broken down. He doesn’t deserve the second chance he’s gotten! I’ll be the one to make the prediction, Comet. Tonight will be Kibagami’s last match in the SWF.”

“Just like the last six others, Bobbo…?”

Kibagami discards his coat, having laid his cane next to the stairs closest to the entrance before he got in the ring. Surrounded by bunkers and barbed wire, the two men face each other. The discrepancies between them are obvious, and they seem to make the match a foregone conclusion. Kibagami is stronger, has the experience advantage, has the crowd behind him and has been in this sort of match before. Zenon is uncertain, out of practice, reviled by more than half the audience, has no idea how to approach this match...but that does not mean he doesn’t have a plan.. Alex Zenon radiates hatred for the man on the other side of the ring. It’s palpable – it communicates itself to everyone at ringside, Nick Soapdish the most of all; he takes special care explaining to Zenon that there are certain rules to the match. And something in the way he stands makes Kibagami wary.

DING DING DING!

No one understands the damage that hatred can do quite like Nathaniel Kibagami.

The two men circle each other – Zenon appears wary, while Kibagami remains the very picture of poise. The University Arena is chanting in unison, and they cannot be helping the commissioner’s concentration with their eerie synchronicity:

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“These fans are adamant in their support of citizen Kibagami, Robert! Alex Zenon does not seem to have endeared himself to the fanbase in his short stint as commissioner!”

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

”Hey, you can’t please everybody. Even the guys at the Rainbow McNasty club know that,” shrugs Riley, before realizing what he said. “Uh, I mean… Zenon’s been doing what he thinks is best for the federation as a whole, petty politics be damned.”

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

”How can you say that while he’s participating in a match he signed himself into against a man he has a personal grudge against?”

Riley shifts his gaze nervously. “It’s...ratings.”

Zenon pauses for a moment amidst the banter and noise of the crowd. He has been out of the ring for almost two years; he feels the rust weighing heavily on his limbs. He has to be fast, faster than he’s ever been to shake it off. He feints to the left, then moves quickly back to the right –

CRACK!

– and limps backwards, a hand gingerly pressed against his right thigh! The River Dragon’s foot comes back to the mat, a smirk visible on his face as Zenon lunges in again –

CRACK!

– his hamstring meeting the same fate against Kibagami’s boots! The commissioner lets loose a shout of frustration, charging towards his opponent...

BAM!

...only to be stopped dead in his tracks by two hard elbows to the jaw!

“Zenon clearly isn’t going to match Kibagami in the striking department,” Riley deadpans. “You’re smarter than this, Alex! You’ve got to make him wrestle the match your way!”

“Need I remind you, Robert, that for the longest time ‘his way’ was running as far as he could from the opponent.”

Zenon wobbles backwards, dazed, and Kibagami follows up with a closed fist, punching Zenon squarely in the nose and sending him crashing to the canvas! The commissioner scrambles backwards, arms flailing, legs kicking, trying to find some purchase, some foothold – reassessing his situation even as the Silent One moves in on him.

“I don’t think he has a method in mind, Bobby,” muses Comet. “This is Kibagami’s area of expertise, to be fair. Zenon’s never been in a match like this in his life.”

Nathaniel lifts the smaller man up from the canvas with relative ease and props him up against the ropes, draping Zenon’s arms over the top rope to keep his chest exposed...

SLAP! (WHOOOOO!)

“One of these days, Comet –“

SLAP! (WHOOOOO!)

“I’m going to figure out –“

SLAP! (WHOOOOO!)

“Why they do that.”

The crowd is rabid; they love being able to chant along as strips of Zenon’s flesh are peeled from his chest. Kibagami grabs hold of Zenon’s arm and whips him hard across the ring...and ducks a surprise spinning wheel kick from the commissioner as he comes barreling back across! Alex scrambles to his feet—the move was sloppy and unconditioned. Turning around to face the River Dragon, he fears –

WHAM!

– to be doubled over by a hard knee to the gut from the already arisen Nathaniel! Not wasting any time, Kibagami grabs Zenon’s arm with both hands and whips him towards the turnbuckle, putting all his weight behind it. Alex slams chest-first into the top turnbuckle and, to the crowd’s delight, flips head over heels, somehow managing to land feet-first on the apron! He stumbles down the apron, trying to regain his bearings, but –

CRACK!

– a Yakuza kick from the Slaughterer sends Alex Zenon crashing to the floor!

“Zenon tries to sprint ahead of Kibagami, but Kibagami seems to have a leg up all the same! The Silent One is simply dominating this matchup thus far, just as I expected he would. The commissioner may have gotten in over his head here, Robert...”

Zenon lies prone on the mats outside the ring, clutching his face and trying to gather his wits. The Silent One doesn’t seem eager to allow him any, but he reminds himself of the rules. Nick Soapdish holds up a hand as he begins the count –

“One!”

“Two!”

Alex Zenon groans as he stirs on the outside, rolling up onto one need despite the heckling of the nearest fans at ringside.

“Three!”

“Four!”

Soapdish breaks the count upon seeing Zenon up on his feet, taking a deep breath. He looks at the face of Kibagami who meets him with a cold smirk that causes Alex to shiver. He paces around the outside, slowly, as Nathaniel follows him – Soapdish urging Alex to bring himself back into the ring. But that would mean another immediate, direct meeting with Nathaniel. That… has not met the greatest success. Perhaps it is time for a new strategy.

“Our commissioner,” Comet says this last part tiredly, “Seems to be making a point of taking his time on the outside.”

“Well, how long has it been since he’s done this? Give him some time, Comet. No matter how many drugs remain coursing through Kibagami’s utterly spent body, he remains much more conditioned. Ready. Chiseled. Ripped. Buff and…” Riley trails off. From behind his mask, Comet raises an eyebrow. “Uh, I mean, LOOK. The commish just needs a little time to catch his breath, that’s all.

And indeed, this is what Alex does. He takes deep breathes – which remain always ragged as Kibagami’s eyes are on him. Finally, tentatively, he steps towards the apron and puts one let up on it, slowly ducking his head under the bottom rope, never taking his eyes of Nathaniel… and then rolls into the ring swiftly! Kibagami doesn’t move, and Alex sighs a small amount of relief, as he begins a slow pacing around Nathan.

The tension hangs thickly in the air, even more thickly than before their first exchange. Kibgami coolly follows Alex with his eyes, and then, his feet, circling methodically. There are no sudden movements, this time, which allows the crowd to pick up their chant…

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

Alex sweats. Kibagami tenses, and steps forward quickly –

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-BOOOOOOOOOOO!.

- …causing Alex to jump back and lean against the ropes, dropping his form completely. Kibagami raises an eyebrow quizzically, as the crowd shows ire over this perceived cowardice. It isn’t perceived for very long, as Kibagami’s epic lack of patience for this kind of delay shows itself, as he quickly attempts to close the gap between himself and Zenon! The crowd continues jeering, though, as the interim commissioner backpedals, moving along the ropes and making sure that Kibagami is never within reach of him.

“And now Alexander will not even attempt to lock up with Kibagami! This is truly criminal cowardice, Robert! After all his accusation and blaming, all his talk of ‘ending’ everything with Kibagami here on PPV, Zenon is purposely avoiding him. I suppose he only now realizes his impotency,” says Comet, nodding sagely.

Very carefully, Riley makes sure to say nothing.

Decidedly miffed, Kibagami halts his advance, stepping back to the center of the ring and standing still. Alex follows suit, restarting his pace around Kibagami. Licking his lips, he attempts a different approach – very slowly, tentatively, reaching out one of his hands for a lockup. Nathaniel gives him an incredulous look as Zenon continues to slowly reach forward…

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“Cowardice, eh?” queries Bobby. “He was just testing the waters, Comet. Last time he dove in headlong, and it got him a few good kicks to the mush. Now he’s ready.”

“Perhaps…” Cyclone mutters.

With almost a shrug, the River Dragon decides to oblige, reaching in to take Alex’s hand… and having him immediately pull it away and take a step back from him!

“…or perhaps not,” Comet deadpans.

Zenon pulls Soapdish aside and launches a formal complaint and inquiry request, indicating to his wristbands and pointing at Kibagami. Soapdish sighs, having heard this story a million times before, and the crowd seems even more restless, launching another round of full-on jeering!

“Hey, it’s a legitimate gripe. I never saw Soapdish check Kibagami’s wristband – he could have spikes or something in there, Comet! Maybe even one of those ninja star things,” says Riley.

With a snarl, Kibagami zooms in on Soapdish and Zenon, the latter with his back turned to him – and nearly takes off the referee’s head with an enormous roundhouse kick! His head jerks to either side to try and catch a glimpse of Zenon, clearly having pivoted out of the way. Where he’s gone is answered as soon as the Silent One turns around, catching a snap southpaw to the jaw! And second and a third jab follow… which seem to do more damage to Alex than Kibagami himself. Nathaniel rubs his jaw with a ‘what the hell was that supposed to do?’ look on his face as the commissioner grimaces, shaking out the pain in his hand. He has no chance of avoiding the River Dragon this time, though, as a swift crescent kick sends a fresh, serious wave of pain coursing through Zenon’s left hand, which is followed up by a smooth savate kick to the chest which sends the commissioner clattering to the canvas.

The cheers mount as Zenon desperately tries to crawl away from Kibagami, but is halted by a sick stomp to the back of his shoulder blades! The groaning Zenon is easily picked up by Kibagami, who seizes an arm and flings him at the ropes.

“Clearly, according to Kibagami, patience in battle is vastly overrated,” observes Comet, chuckling. “Alexander may be trying to channel the tactics of another former commissioner, the Suicide King, but he seems to lack the practice and poise that he had while doing them.”

But that may not be totally true. Kibagami bows his head, preparing to toss Zenon down the mat with a backdrop upon his rebound, but unbeknownst to him, Alex reaches his arms around the ropes and halts his momentum. The boos begin again, and Nathaniel becomes aware that something is up, but he cannot react before Alex runs up to him and cracks him across the face with a soccer-style kick! Finally appearing to do some damage, the River Dragon jolts upright and grimaces. Moving with haste, ducks behind Kibagami, grabs his hair, pulls him down into a reverse headlock and drops, turning as he falls and driving an elbow into Nathan’s sternum!

“Turn n’ Burn,” calls Comet. “The commissioner finally gets on the board with one of his favourite maneuvers – a Divefire classic.”

“Y’know, with King, he played a game of chance more than anything else, Comet,” Bobby says, responding to the superhero’s earlier comment. “Just with a few… uh… extra things thrown in to try and even the odds. It’s a game that involves you taking way more than your fair share of lumps, though. Sometimes you play that game and you lose – but King was good, so he didn’t lose often.”

“Alexander has not demonstrated the best luck since he accepted the commissioner’s position, or through his entire career, chum.”

“Yeah, but luck is intangible – Kibagami doesn’t have it either.”

The move, as it always does, succeeds in driving the air right out of Kibagami’s lungs. He coughs on the mat, giving Alex brief respite and only the second count of the match from Soapdish.

“One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

Kibagami groans and quickly pulls his head off the mat, to the chagrin of Alex – but he knew that wasn’t going to keep him down long anyway. He rises to a knee, causing Nick Soapdish to break the count, and is immediately peppered by stomps from Zenon! Alex grabs the nearest rope for leverage and continues to furiously piston his foot into Kibagami’s back, shoulder, sides, anything that’s exposed! The jeers mount again, but are suddenly silenced by a pop as Nathaniel flips from his stomach and catches Alex’s next stop before it meets his body. He’s caught off balanced by this, allowing Kibagami to arise with Alex’s boot in hand. Zenon clings desperately to the ropes, but with one solid pull, Nathan frees him and rips him over and down with…

“Dragonscrew legwhip,” Comet calls, almost cheering. “Alexander gets a shot in, but still fails to create any consistent offense!”

Alex almost bawls in pain and grabs at his knee, rolling around on the canvas. This, of course, leads to the referee beginning another ten count, much to the satisfaction of those in attendance.

“One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

Alex lays limply on the mat, still holding onto his legs. Kibagami eyes his suspiciously and takes a step forward, but stops as Soapdish puts a hand in his way.

“Four!”

“Five!”

Alex is still laying on the mat, his face contorted in pain. “That leglace really appeared to do a lot of damage to Zenon. It’s entirely possible that Kibagami could’ve torn a ligament with his lack of conditioning,” Bobby speculates.

“The commissioner certainly seems to be in pain…”

“Six!”

Kibagami’s brow furrows. He knows exactly what’s going on here, and he takes a step forward to try and remedy the situation – but Soapdish remains convinced, urging Kibagami back again as he continues counting.

“Seven!”

“Eight!”

The fans begin booing, hating the idea of this sort of cop out. Alex remains on the mat, grimacing and holding his knee.

“These people are unbelieveable,” Riley mutters, disgusted. “The man is clearly in pain, and it’s possible that leg may be torn apart! How can they boo?”

“When they know…”

“Nine!”

And just before Nick Soapdish makes the final, fatal count, Alex springs from his deathbed and gets to his feet, earning another intensified round of jeering!

“…that it’s all an act,” Comet finishes, scornfully.

Nathaniel scowls, having known this all along, and shoots a miserable look at Soapdish. He turns his attention back to his opponent, who has a half grin on his face as he begins to pace again. The crowd murmurs restlessly as they watch the two men circle for the fourth time in the match; as he did at the beginning, Alex knows that he must be faster than Kibagami, and faster he’s ever been to be able to beat him. But… he is not. So then, now, he must be smarter. This, he has been, but…

He is running out of avenues to try and take control.

Knowing this, Alex surprises Kibagami by stopping his circling and suddenly breaking in between them, taking his arm and winding it around in a quick wristlock. Off-guard, Kibagami winces as Zenon grinds his arm, but the Silent One is swift to demonstrate his superior strength and capability, reversing it into his own wristlock.

“Zounds. And it looks like we may actually have a wrestling match in our midst, Robert,” hums Comet. “Nathaniel is really trying to screw in that hold.”

“Yeah, and Zenon’s telling him exactly what he thinks about it.”

Indeed, the commissioner mutters derogatory comments at Kibagami as he works the hold. Bemused, Kibagami does the best shrug possible while keeping the wristlock synched in and kicks him once… twice in the ribs! The crowd pops loudly, while Zenon curses loudly at Nathaniel! In the midst of a particularly inflammatory comment, Kibagami rears back in kicks Alex square in the mouth, dropping him to one knee and drawing a huge pop!

“Ah, but the criminal belligerents always eat their words. And Kibagami’s boot, evidentially.”

Feeling around the inside of his mouth to make sure he’s still got all the teeth he started the match with, Alex is reminded that Kibagami still has a strong grip on his wrist. Grimacing, he looks to remedy this by quickly ducking into a roll, spinning on the mat, and then uneasily kipping to his feet and ducking under the Silent One’s arm, effectively completing the Owen Hart-like reversal. It’s met with a few smatterings of applause, but like most things he’s done in this match, Zenon bears witness only to jeering.

He doesn’t care; winding the arm around Kibagami’s back, Alex moves into a hammerlock that has Kibagami wincing. He jerks left and jukes right in an attempt to break Alex from his grip, and the commissioner struggles to maintain the hold – but it won’t take much more for Kibagami’s stronger body to pry itself from him. Thinking fast, Alex breaks one hand from the hold and absolutely SLUGS Kibagami in the side of the neck!

“Shades of Bertuzzi there,” Riley mutters.

“And just as heinous, Robert! Alexander takes a vile shot at Kibagami’s biggest weakness!”

And Kibagami screams – literally screams – out in pain from the roundhouse right. The crowd boos vehemently and Alex grins, thinking he’s finally found his opening. Wobbly, Kibagami shambles forward, and Zenon immediately drops the hammerlock, reaching through the River Dragon’s legs and grasping his other arm, pulling it back in a pumphandle. The commissioner gives the arm a solid jerk, much to the displeasure of Kibagami, and then leaps over Kibagami’s back, turning around as he slides down, gripping a headlock and drilling Kibagami down!

“Suicide Level Event!” Comet shouts. “And that fiend continues to darkly exploit Kibagami’s most obvious weakness, compacting his neck right down!”

“Well, duh,” Riley drones. “I mean, what were you expecting? Alex to play nice? There is more hatred in that ring than you or I will ever know, Comet, and this is the only way that Alex may ever be able to win this match.”

The crowd continues booing, and Alex continues grinning, while Kibagami lay on the canvas, his face a mask of pain. Alex slowly arises, and Soapdish starts his count, as that old, familiar chant starts up again…

“One!”

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“Two!”

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“Three!”

“Even with the droning of these dregs, I don’t think it’s going to keep Kibagami in this match. As long as Alex keeps focusing in on that neck, he’s going to grind down Nathan – hell, he doesn’t look like he’ll be getting up anytime soon as it is.”

“Four!”

“I doubt that very much, Riley. First, this criminal is going to need to be able to get at Kibagami’s neck again. But to do that, Alexander must first find some way to out-last Kibagami.”

“Five!”

Alex eyes widen. Is it at all possible that he may very well be doing that right here? Kibagami’s breath is shallow, but his mouth is twisted in to a grimace, and he lays there, motionlessly.

“Six!”

Could it be…?

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“Sev…”

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!

…that the grimace was actually a smirk?

“Like a zombie,” Riley mumbles.

“He sat up! Kibagami just sat bolt upright!” shouts Comet, amidst the cheering. “He just used Alexander’s own little underhanded trick against him!”

In the ring, Zenon nearly has a heart attack as Kibagami reaches his feet, standing up purposefully. The chants and cheering intensify, and Nathaniel’s grin can only get a little bigger as he stalks into the middle of the ring… and then closer to Zenon. Panicking, the interim-commish forgets everything he needs to do to actually win this match, and dives in with a hard overhand punch to Kibagami’s head. It snaps back into place like hit with a gentle summer’s breeze, and Alex feverishly – foolishly – tries to keep up his attack, only to have Kibagami reach up with his forearm and block the third punch, doubling Zenon over with a hard knee to the gut!

The cheering and chanting for the Silent One continues unabated as he fires three quick snap kicks off, all of them meeting their mark on Zenon’s chest. The panting Alex is offered no quarter as Kibagami squares himself, and then lets loose with a huge roundhouse kick that knocks Zenon silly, sending his hair whipping about with a spray of perspiration and dropping him to his knees, and then, flat to his face.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

Gasping, Zenon crawls along the mat, dazedly, almost absently trying to find a way to his feet – or simply remember who he is and what he’s doing. One more good, hard shot from the River Dragon would be enough to put him down and attempt another ten count, but Kibagami knows this is not the best strategy. After all, it would only allow Zenon time to rest. Pulling him up to his feet, Nathaniel grips the arm of the commissioner and whips him towards the ropes, bouncing off himself and closing in on Alex… before absolutely tearing his head off with a Burning Lariat! Zenon obediently goes flipping, crashing to the mat with a resounding ‘thud!’

“One!”

“Two!”

As Soapdish counts, Kibagami takes a moment to bathe in the adulation the crowd hails on him, and then sneers at the prone body of Zenon. However, much to Kibagami’s surprise, the commissioner is more than resilient – not in ring shape, no, but more than determined to let a few stiff kicks and a hell of a lariat keep him down.

“Three!”

Not for this.

“Four!”

Sputtering, Zenon slowly attempts to lift his shoulders off the mat, straining especially hard to reach a sitting position. Though it shows through that the endless will of Z will never die, the site is still almost enough to make Kibagami laugh.

“Five!”

Almost. But there’s no time for laughter now. No time for anything at all – Zenon has had enough to almost collect himself, and ‘almost’ is more than good enough, Kibagami has decided. Before Soapdish can shout “six,” Nathaniel rushes the gap between the two of them and knocks Alex right back to the canvas with a sick knee to the head!

Pulling the commissioner away from the ropes, Kibagami pulls out one of Alex’s arms and drops a knee directly into the joint! A second, and Alex lets out some kind of unintelligible groan of pain. Dropping a third knee and earning the same response, the River Dragon has also decided that he will treat this match like any other one.

Alex Zenon isn’t worth anything special.

Pulling Zenon up to his feet by his long, brown locks, Kibagami locks onto the wounded right arm of Alex’s and makes a show of winding it around slowly, methodically, painfully. Alex moans, and then yells out as Nathaniel harshly jerks downward on it! He does it a second time, and Alex tries to fall to his knee, but Kibagami will have none of that. Turning his back to Zenon, he pulls him close and snaps his arm down over one of his broad shoulders, seemingly causing the commissioner to go limp. Seeing this as an opportunity for something more impactful, Nathaniel pulls Zenon up onto his back and prepares for an Ippon Seionage throw – when suddenly, everything goes wrong. He feels Alex’s body tighten, and his left arm whip around the his throat. Reflexively, the Silent One lets go of Zenon’s weakened arm, which he uses to grip his left hand and allow some slightly greater purchase.

Nathaniel moves and shakes in every which way to throw Alex from his back, who clings desperately to the sleeper hold, each failed attempt to get him off seemingly only serving to jerk the hold tighter around Kibagami’s neck. Grimacing at the pain in his most publicized weakness, Nathan feels the weariness of the wear-down hold being to take his toll. With one last, great push, Nathaniel gather the energy in his legs… and then leaps backwards towards the nearest turnbuckle, sandwiching Alex between the padding and Nathan’s back. With an audible “OOF,” Alex’s hold slackens considerably, and the River Dragon is given the opportunity to crush the commissioner once again – shattering the hold!

Fighting the urge to take a knee, Nathaniel rubs his angry throat. The jerking and the pressure has ground on his neck – Alex knows exactly where to strike. The only place to strike. He has not fought effectively over long periods of time, though, and this is his weakness. Nathaniel knows that he must not allow the commissioner to mount a continued assault; he has not yet, and he cannot now.

Unfortunately for Kibagami, his enemy has recovered faster. Before Nathaniel can return his attention to Alex, he feels two hands wrap around him, a leg intertwined with his, and inevitably, Zenon bringing him down with a Russian Leg Sweep! The jeering that had restarted with the sleeper hold re-intensifies with this shot.

Swifter than earlier, Kibagami makes a point of not waiting for his breath in returning to his feet. That… was his mistake. He should not let it happen again. Fully arising, he quickly looks to the turnbuckle, and then scans along the ropes and the ring for his opponent. There is no sign of Alex Zenon, and alarms begin to ring in Kibagami’s head, intensified as he feels his hair pulled from behind him, as the commissioner yanks his head over the ropes and lays his neck across the top – drilling it with a hard elbow!

“And yet another injust shot from the criminal Alex Zenon,” Comet announces. “Right across the throat – He has no concept of honour, Robert!”

Bobby Riley can only roll his eyes. “Well, obviously, Comet. How do you think he got his job?”

“Mark Stevens gave it to him.”

Riley blanches. “That’s beside the point! This is the most effective way for Alex to win, here, Comet, and that move not only leaves Nathan in desperate need of air, but it’s got the added effect of snapping his vertebrae with the ropes and doing a little more to hit him where it really hurts.”

Again, Kibagami is left sputtering, coughing, and with a burning pain all around his neck. And again, he knows he must be the faster to his feet, faster to react. Faster to note that the fans jeering had intensified once more, and yet… there were some cheers mixed in. That could only mean one thing. With surprising speed, Kibagami stands flush on his feet and pivots towards the turnbuckle, glimpsing Alex Zenon coming at him…!

…

**CRASH!**

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!

“BY HADES BALLCAP!” exclaims Comet. “WHATTAMANEUVER FROM KIBAGAMI!!”

“He just caught Alex in mid-air and ripped over with an armdrag,” Riley gapes, more than a little shocked himself. “Zenon’s clear across the ring!”

Both men seeming very much spent, this leaves only one logical course of action for Nick Soapdish. He begins the double ten-count, as the crowd continues its adulation for the Silent One’s particularly awesome counter.

“One!”

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“Two!”

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“Three!”

Those chants. Those same bloody chants. All the time, and always that name. In Alex’s head, the lights are spinning, but he can still hear everything. He’s not out of it, but his arm hurts like hell right now. He lays still, watching as the lights begin to slow their twirl. He looks across the ring…

“Four!”

…and a look of shock crosses his face as he watches Kibagami, already on his hands and knees, slowly using the ropes to pull himself up.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

The match has gone on for eleven, twelve, thirteen minutes now. Kibagami isn’t invincible, and his life-long battered body is beginning to tire. Kibagami is slowing, but he remains faster than Alex.

“Five!”

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“Six!”

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“Seven!”

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

That infernal chanting… Alex is well and truly running out of ideas, and Kibagami is running to his feet. Stalling didn’t work. Possum didn’t work. Surprise worked, but opportunities will not present themselves so often. There is, Alex fears, only one other option.

“Eight!”

Kibagami is on his feet now, and he sees Alex laying prone. Kibagami knows this may very well be a trick, but he doesn’t care. Sprinting towards the commissioner, the River Dragon races in on Alex and leaps into the air, aiming for a kneedrop.

…just as Alex decides to execute his last hope, deftly rolling out of the way, and continuing to roll, under the bottom rope, out of the ring and onto the floor! Kibagami’s knee kisses the canvas, resulting in an unpleasant jolt all through his leg, a stream of profanity, and a few vehement boos directed at the weary, wary commissioner.

“And the citizens in attendance, Robert, are giving Alexander no respite! As well they shouldn’t, I say…”

“Yeah, whatever,” Riley mutters. “For a while, Alex was the mayor of no-man’s land, Comet. Don’t forget that – he’d only be leading Kibagami out here for a good reason.”

Kibagami shakes the pain out of his leg and looks at Zenon through the ropes, scowling. Without even a second though, he brushes past Soapdish and steps out onto the apron – immediately assaulted by Zenon, knowing that to wait out here is to die. A flurry of left jabs and the occasional overhand right that Alex can spare meet the River Dragon, finally seeming to be enough to stun him. Wasting no time, the commissioner seizes a handful of Kibagami’s now unfurled black hair and drives him hard, face-first into the the ring apron. The sick satisfaction of trying to rearrange Kibagami’s face is evident in Alex; he does it again. And again, and again, and again. A half dozen, and then ten times Kibagami’s face is driven into the apron, Zenon screaming out in rage as he does it!

The jeers reach fever pitch, and a loud “ZEN-ON SUCKS! ZEN-ON SUCKS!” chant starts up; he ignores it. Breathing shallow, ragged gasps of hair, Alex looks at Kibagami, his face planted rather helplessly into the edge of the ring.

“A truly wretched display by this fiendish… unjust… criminal,” Comet spits, not terribly good with the whole ‘insult’ thing. “The hatred and desperation of Alexander Zenon is more evident than ever!”

“And he’s looking for another elbow right into the back of Kibagami’s neck. This is great stuff, Comet! Just image what Edwin would think!”

And that draws complete silence from the man sitting next to Bobby Riley.

Zenon rears back with his elbow, and puts full force into everything… meeting NOTHING but HARD ring edge as Kibagami pulls his head away at the last moment, a little dazedly. Zenon SCREAMS in agony as his arm connects, drawing a big pop from the New Mexico fans!

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Cyclone Comet chides, shaking his head. “Alexander attacked with that arm that Kibagami’s been targeting!”

In a terrific amount of pain, and having been caught up in adrenalin, Alex had not realized his error. But it’s more than enough for Kibagami, who takes full advantage of the smarting Zenon, the pain in his arm quickly replaced by the fire in his jaw as the River Dragon connects with a spinning crescent kick! Zenon almost goes for a spin himself, staggering around stupidly, which Kibagami nullifies by gripping his arm and pulling him down with hard, ANGRY single-armed DDT!

The crowd pops, and Zenon is such a world of hurt he can’t find any sound to really express it. The chants start again, and Alex seems lost and incapable. Unable. In a complete daze he tries to rise from the move, reaching for the barricade and pulling himself up. Naturally, the watchful eyes of Kibagami haven’t left him even for a second – as Zenon turns around to face him with a moan, the Silent One greets him with a hard knee to the gut! A second is quick to follow, and Zenon is quick to drop to his knees, retching and coughing and writing. With his good arm, he slowly lowers himself to the mat, dry heaving. The chant begins anew. To Nathaniel Kibagami, this is really quite a pathetic display.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

As always, Kibagami does not bathe in it; his eyes remain completely focused on the commissioner, who now paws at his pant leg in an attempt to bring himself to his feet. Harshly, Nathan kicks the arm away, sending Zenon flopping onto his back. Shaking his head sadly, Kibagami takes Zenon’s hair and yanks him up to his feet. For a moment, the two share eye contact.

There is blood from Alex’s mouth. He’s out of breath. But his eyes… the same thing that made Kibagami wary at the beginning of this match… the fire and hatred and disgust and fear and loathing… it still burns within Alex’s eyes. Brightly. He moves his lips as if to speak; he tries to position himself as if to fight; but Kibagami will have none of this. None of it! With a feral snarl, he grabs Zenon and throws him as hard as he can, sending him crashing into the steel steps, and toppling into a pile of human wreckage! The crowd roars in approval, the chants continue… but Kibagami can only scowl. This will not break Zenon – he now has only one course of action, too. Staring grimly at what’s left of his employer, Nick Soapdish does his job…

“One!”

“You know… Robert, this is really starting to get ugly. The evil Dr. Kitsch’s dungeon in Castle Kitschstein was filthy, dilapidated, many of the moving parts could’ve easily killed or maimed innocent children and derelicts had used it for a toilet. I dare say this match is perilously close to leap frogging it.”

“Two!”

“And I suppose he had the Hardly Boys chained up there with you?” deadpans Riley. “Anyway, I’d agree to a point. Zenon looks…” Riley trails off as he shoots an eye towards Nathaniel.

“Three!”

“Where the hell is he going?”

Striding purposefully, Kibagami walks slowly back towards the steps near the entrance ramp. It beings to dawn on Riley…

“Four!”

Comet…

“Five!”

…and the audience what exactly Kibagami is looking for. He reaches the stairs.

“Six!”

“Riley, you don’t think he’s…”

“I do, Comet.”

“Seven!”

Nestled neatly up against the steps is the one and only weapon of mass destruction. The harbinger of pain – the steep tipped cane. Gripping the handle, Kibagami makes great show of holding up the cane for all the audience to see, getting and ENORMOUS roar from within the University Arena! Eighteen thousand people are on their feet for the possibility of ultraviolence.

“Oh, dear,” is all that Cyclone Comet can muster.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

Stalking back from whence he came, the River Dragon idly taps the cane against the mats as he steps. The chants continue, it is impossible to think in the confines of the arena, the crowd is so loud. However, Kibagami pauses as approaches the side of the ring that Zenon is on.

Even over the crowd, he realizes Soapdish’s count has ceased.

Kibagami slowly strides around the turnbuckle, and is met with a flash of black steel.

**CA-FUCKING-RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!”

“JESUS GOD!” Riley screams, “ZENON JUST CAME OUT OF NOWHERE AND TOOK KIBAGAMI’S FUCKING HEAD OFF WITH THAT CHAIR!!”

Kibagami stumbles backwards – the cane almost falls from his hands, and he drops to one knee. His neck is on fire. His eyes are closed.

The crowd screams in frustration - eighteen thousand people are suddenly filled with contempt for one Alex Zenon, and they’re not afraid to let him know.

ZEN-ON SUCKS!

He doesn’t seem to hear them.

ZEN-ON SUCKS!

Alex Zenon ignores the taunts of eighteen thousand people and measures Kibagami once again.

**CA-FUCKING-RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!**

The second shot topples the River Dragon outright, sending him sprawling, bloodied, to the floor.

“This is...this is criminal!” Cyclone Comet sputters and chokes, indignant and lacking the vocabulary to express it. “Zenon has stooped to despicable depths, introducing a foreign object to level the playing field!”

”It’s all legal in this match, Comet! The commissioner may have finally found the opening he needs to put Kibagami down for the count!”

Zenon tosses the chair into the ring – nearly taking the referee’s head off in the process – and grabs a handful of the Slaughterer’s blood-drenched hair. He tosses the cane into the corner as well. He might want it later; there is a certain poetic justice in the idea of caning Kibagami that he simply can’t ignore. This is the opening he wanted, the opening he needed. Kibagami is half-conscious, losing blood, and undoubtedly in a great deal of pain. He can’t defend himself.

Alex rolls Nathaniel into the ring and follows him in, his eyes on the chair.

ZEN-ON SUCKS!

Now, he just has to keep him down.

There’s no time to waste – Kibagami is already on his hands and knees, trying desperately to regain his senses. Zenon grabs a hasty double chickenwing and hauls Nathaniel to his feet, looking for a tiger suplex, but the Silent One is recovering quickly – he twists his body sharply to the right and pulls his left arm free of Zenon’s grasp, sending the commissioner flying over his shoulder and off of his back with something that’s somewhere between a hiptoss and an armdrag. Alex rolls to his feet, ignoring the searing pain in his right arm; he won’t let this chance slip away. He can’t let another chance slip. He charges at Kibagami with a primal scream, swinging his good arm wildly at the larger man’s head –

WHAM!

– only to have the Slaughterer bring his forearms up at the last possible moment to block the blow! Alex doubles over, clutching his arm, but Kibagami gives him no time to nurse his wounds – he grabs a handful of Zenon’s hair and jerks him upright, then shoves him brusquely into the turnbuckles! The blood in Nathaniel’s eyes makes it difficult for him to see, but he can tell where Zenon’s face is.

CRACK-CRACK!

Two harsh bitchslaps knock the taste out of Zenon’s mouth, and before the commissioner can duck or dodge, Kibagami vaults onto the second rope –

CRAAAAAAAAACK!

– and drives his boot into Alex’s face with a vicious springboard gamengiri! Zenon flops to the mat, motionless, as Kibagami lands unsteadily on his feet. The crowd is absolutely rabid; they understand perfectly well what the Silent One has just done.

...but just to make sure that nobody misses the point, Nathaniel Kibagami – the River Dragon, the Slaughterer, the man least likely to dance in the entire federation – adds the trademark pelvic thrust to the move.

“COCKTAIL O’ SHAME, Bobby! What a slap in the face to the commissioner!” Comet titters to himself, obviously enamored with the pun. “It’s going to take more than a few puny chair shots to keep a citizen of Kibagami’s caliber down for the count, I think!”

“Maybe it will, but they’re affecting him all the same,” Riley mutters. “I hope he keeps showboating like that – between the chair shots, the blood loss, and the commissioner, he won’t be able to keep this up.”

Kibagami leans on the ropes, breathing hard. His neck burns and his ears are ringing, but Zenon is lying perfectly still on the canvas.

“One!”

”Two!”

It’s about time he stayed down, too.

”Three!”

He’d fought a lot harder than Kibagami expected, and it was beginning to look like –

“Four!”

Zenon pushes himself up to his hands and knees.

“Five!”

No.

This has to end now.

The Slaughterer advances on Zenon, not bothering to wait for Soapdish to count – he knows Alex is getting up. Determination is etched in his face as he drives the toe of his boot sharply into the commissioner’s side. He will not allow this match to go any further. He cannot allow this match to go any further. Alexander Zenon has strayed dangerously close to some of Kibagami’s greatest weaknesses; to continue the match any longer than necessary would be folly.

The River Dragon grabs a handful of Zenon’s hair and begins to pull him to his feet – and suddenly doubles over in pain!

”GALATEA SPECIAL!” hollers Riley, and indeed it is – Kibagami collapses to the mat as Zenon pulls himself to his feet, ignoring Nick Soapdish’s futile admonitions against low blows.

“It pains me deeply every time I see that valiant man’s maneuver co-opted by the forces of evil,” sighs Comet.

Alex shoves the referee away before he can even begin counting – there’s no point; he knows Kibagami won’t stay down. But he has to stay down. He has to stay down.

The commissioner pulls a dazed Kibagami up to his feet and stands back to back with him, hooks his arms through Nathan’s, and pulls the larger man off his feet into a Gory Special.

“Zenon is setting Kibagami up for the Genocide Level Event! If he hits this, with the state Kibagami’s neck must be in...”

”Have faith, Bobby! Citizen Nathaniel will find a way to overcome this grave injustice – perhaps by kicking the dastardly Zenon in the face, somehow.” Comet tries to force a smile, but even he seems to think the situation grim as Zenon places his hands underneath Kibagami’s chin, bracing the River Dragon’s neck back against his shoulder –

BAM!

– before sitting out, driving Kibagami’s unprotected neck into his shoulder blade!

“ONE!”

Zenon rolls away from Kibagami, satisfied with his handiwork. Alex looks behind him and he sees Silent lying motionless in a pool of his own blood, the way it should have been. He starts to smile. He starts to think that maybe this is over.

“WOOOO!”

“This has got to be the end for Nathan! I don’t care what kind of surgery he had to repair that neck of his, but –“

“THREEEE!”

“– he CAN’T get back up from that one!”

“FOURRR!”

”I believe I heard you say that once before, Bobby.”

”FIIIIIIIVE!”

Comet focuses his attention on the ring. The chants, once again, are deafening.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

”SIIIIIIIIIX!”

“You were wrong that time, too.”

Nathaniel Kibagami pushes himself to his hands and knees.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“SEVVVVVVVVVVEN!”

One knee.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

Zenon picks up the chair.

“EIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!”

Two.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

Zenon takes a step back.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

This can’t be happening.

”NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!”

CRRRRRRRRACK!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

“Zounds!”

CRRRRRRRRACK!

“Alex Zenon is assaulting Kibagami!”

CRRRRRRRRACK!

“Of course he is, Comet! Weren’t you paying attention? He almost got up from the GLE –“

**CA-FUCKING-RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!**

“– and Zenon intends to keep him down!”

Zenon tosses the chair haphazardly into the center of the ring; he’s furious. He’s beside himself. Kibagami is supposed to be beaten and broken. Kibagami is supposed to be worn out and worn down. Kibagami is supposed to fall. The frustration on his face is evident as he stomps away at the River Dragon’s chest, his shoulders, his face, his neck. Why won’t he just quit? Why won’t he stay down? What else is he supposed to do, goddamn it?

He starts throwing closed fists, forearms, elbows, anything, everything he can think of. He kicks at Kibagami’s face, stomps on his legs and his ribs, drives elbow after elbow into his neck – he’s screaming obscenities, cursing, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth, his hair coated with his blood, his opponent’s blood, Soapdish tries to pull him off of the River Dragon and he shoves the referee away – he has got to keep him down.

“Alex Zenon is flying off the handle! He’s outraged! He’s crazed! He’s deranged!”

”He’s winning this match is what he’s doing!”

Zenon turns back to the chair – it’s caked with Kibagami’s blood.

That will end it. That has to end it.

The crowd is still chanting for Silent, but Alex ignores them – let them chant; they can’t save him that way. They chanted for Edwin, too. They chanted for Z. They didn’t save Edwin. They didn’t save him. Fuck them. They can stand to lose another one of their precious favorites. He pulls Kibagami roughly to his feet and picks him up over his shoulder, being careful to position Kibagami’s head a little below waist level. Slowly, methodically, he makes his way to the center of the ring, where the chair awaits him.

“Bobby, he’s going to drop him on the chair! That’s...that’s...it’s...”

”It’s criminal, right? That’s what you’re going to say, isn’t it? Well, criminal or not, it’s going to put Nathaniel Kibagami down for the ten-count, Comet, mark my words!”

The crowd senses what’s coming. The chants begin again, almost as if they could bring Kibagami to his senses, somehow allow him to escape the fate that is rushing to met him as Alex Zenon positions himself directly over the steel chair.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

The chants are not enough.

Zenon sits out.

BAM!

”SWEET JUMPING JESUS WITH A CRUTCH ON A POGO STICK! ZENON JUST HIT THE EXTINCTION LEVEL EVENT ON THAT STEEL CHAIR!”

”This is heinous! Despicable! This is bad, Bobby! Kibagami’s neck simply cannot take this sort of abuse! As much as I hate to say it, citizen Nathaniel would be doing himself a favor by staying down!”

Zenon is exhausted, but a smile crosses his face as he rolls to his feet and Soapdish begins to count.

“ONE!”

He stands victorious over his opponent for the first time in almost two years – his return to an SWF ring is a triumphant one.

“TWOOOOO!”

He has vanquished his demons. He has righted all the wrongs. The fans don’t understand, not now, but they will in time. He has time, now. He can fix all of this.

“THREEEE!”

He has the time. He has the power. He has seen Nathaniel Kibagami fall the way he should’ve fallen all those months ago.

“FOURRR!”

He has won.

“FIIIIIIIIVE!”

Until the chants begin.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“SIIIIIIX!”

Nathaniel Kibagami has been here before. He is no stranger to defeat.

“SEVVVVVVEN!”

He has lost before, but he has never broken. To stay down is to break.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“EIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!”

Thoth. Janus. Angel. Nekura. None of them broke him.

“NIIIIIIIIIIIINE!”

He chased Edwin MacPhisto for seven years and beat him, like he’d never been beaten, in the center of the ring.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

Nathaniel Kibagami does not break.

Not for anybody.

“TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE –“

And most certainly not for Alexander Zenon.

RRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

“HE’S UP! BOBBY, HE’S UP! CITIZEN NATHANIEL HAS BEATEN THE COUNT!” Comet is elated, Riley is distraught, and the arena EXPLODES in cheers, resplendent at seeing the River Dragon on his feet again!

“Goddamn it! I thought he was off the drugs! I want him tested! I want him retested! I want a recount and a recall, Comet! How in the hell is he still standing?!?”

”I don’t have a clue, Bobby, and neither does Zenon! Our dastardly commissioner looks to have run out of ideas at last!”

Alex simply stares at Kibagami as he moves unsteadily for his cane, his mouth hanging agape. Kibagami shouldn’t be able to get up. He just landed on a steel chair. On his neck. He’s off the drugs; Zenon had him tested three times this month. There’s no way he beat three tests in a row, so he has to be doing this on his own, somehow. He can’t process it. He can’t understand it. He has run out of options –

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

Alex Zenon can no longer see a way to win this match.

He sees the Slaughterer coming at him with the cane, murder in his eyes, and he stands rooted to the spot. Something has gone wrong in Zenon’s mind – he’s shell-shocked, burnt out, mentally exhausted. Everything he knew – or thought he knew – about Kibagami and about himself is suddenly wrong. For a long, long moment, he stands still, trying to reconcile all of this with the oncoming wrecking machine that Nathaniel Kibagami has become.

Finally, he moves.

CRRRRRRRRRRACK!

...too late.

“And now it’s time to pay the piper!”

CRRRRRRRRRRACK!

“How can you condone this, Comet?”

CRRRRRRRRRRACK!

“This is brutal!”

CRRRRRRRRRRACK!

“This is outrageous!”

CRRRRRRRRRRACK!

“This is the commissioner we’re talking about!”

CRRRRRRRRRRACK!

“He’s reaping what he’s sown, Bobby!”

CRRRRRRRRRRACK!

“He knew what he was getting into with this match –“

CRRRRRRRRRRACK!

“ – and he’s got no one else to blame but himself for the consequences!”

CRRRRRRRRRRACK!

The River Dragon slams the cane into Zenon’s ribs, his back, his shoulders, his thighs, and finally to his face – a gory stream of blood sprays from his nose, from the gashes on his forehead. Kibagami’s chest is heaving from the effort – he doesn’t have much left, and he knows it – but he seems to think it’s worth it. The chants, merely deafening before, now shake the arena to its foundations.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

Nathaniel grabs a handful of Zenon’s blood-drenched hair and pulls him up to a sitting position.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

Silent draws the cane back.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

He earned this name.

**CA-FUCKING-RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!**

The cane snaps in the middle as he brings it down across Alex Zenon’s face, splintering into dozens of pieces and flying wildly across the ring!

”JESUS CHRIST, man!”

”ONE!”

”TWOOOO!”

”That was...somebody check on the commissioner, would you? Tell the referee to stop counting! He could be injured, damn it!”

”THREEEE!”

”FOURRRR!”

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“FIVVVVE!”

Somehow, Zenon moves.

“SIIIIIIIIX!”

He shoves himself up to his knees...and he stops.

“SEVVVVVEN!”

He breathes. The blood rushes down his face. It coats the canvas; it pools around the fragments of the cane.

“EIGHT!”

Kibagami must fall.

”NINE!”

Kibagami has to fall.

June 24, 2007

Zenon staggers up to his feet. The crowd is in shock. Some of them actually applaud the commissioner’s resolve, but most simply continue chanting Silent’s name.

“I must say, Zenon is showing an impressive amount of resolve, but he simply can’t continue the match in this condition!” exclaims Comet. “He’s out on his feet – he’s practically a zombie! Citizen Nathaniel can fell him at will!”

”Don’t count him out yet, Comet...” Riley tries to find an angle to approach the situation from that will allow Alex to emerge victorious. “He could...he could get hold of the chair again, and...and...don’t count him out...yet?”

Zenon throws a wild roundhouse at Kibagami, but there’s nothing behind it. A forearm to the face stuns the River Dragon, but it does not truly give him pause. A swift knee to the gut halts Alex’s half-hearted attempt at a counter offensive, and Nathaniel grabs a handful of his opponent’s hair.

There is a moment where Kibagami considers his opponent. Zenon’s drive to destroy him remains, but the body simply cannot support the mind any longer. The commissioner is gone; willpower and adrenaline are the only things keeping him on his feet. Kibagami could use any move in the world to put him down for ten seconds. He could make any statement he wanted, debut anything he wanted, deliver any injury he wanted.

But this time, he will do no such thing. He has no reason to do so.

To Nathaniel Kibagami, Alexander Zenon is nothing special.

BAM!

Kibagami drives his fist into Zenon’s face, and the commissioner of the SWF topples.

“ONE!”

”TWOOOO!”

”What arrogance being displayed here! Zenon will be up from that in no time at all!”

”THREEEE!”

Zenon crawls to his hands and knees.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“FOURRRR!”

”I don’t know, Riley. Zenon hasn’t competed in two years – his body might not be able to hold out much longer!”

”FIIIIIIIIIIIVE!”

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

Zenon looks up. He hears the chants. He sees the fans up out of their seats.

He sees Kibagami in front of him.

Still ready. Still standing.

“SIIIIIIIIIX!”

The tears begin to well in Alex’s eyes.

”SEVVVVVVVVVVEN!”

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

“EIIIIIIIIIGHT!”

He collapses. A terrible, heart-wrenching sound escapes his mouth. Whether it’s moaning or crying or screaming or sobbing is anybody’s guess.

“NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!”

There are some people that can wrestle a Last Man Standing match. There are some people that simply refuse to quit. They cannot give up. They do not know how.

Nathaniel Kibagami is one of those people, and he knows it. He believed that Alexander Zenon was not.

It would seem Nathaniel Kibagami was right.

“TEN!”

DING DING DING!

”Ladies and gentlemen, your winner....NATHANIEL KIBAGAMI!”

Kibagami walks slowly towards the turnbuckles, ignoring Soapdish’s attempt to raise his arm in victory. He climbs the turnbuckles slowly, methodically – the blood on his chest and face is still wet, his neck still burns, his arms still ache – he climbs to the top of the turnbuckles, raises his arms in the crucifix position, and silently acknowledges the fans that have chanted his name for the last twenty-odd minutes.

Alex Zenon rolls out of the ring, a look of horror on his face. He seems lost as he makes his way up the ramp – defeated, forgotten, broken. Alex Zenon has the look of a man that lost something irretrievable and doesn’t have the slightest idea how to find it again. He disappears into the trenches, into the back, wandering silently, trying to understand what it was that failed him in the ring this night.

“Citizen Nathaniel stands victorious after a hard-fought battle! I must say that I am impressed with Kibagami’s resolve – he seems to have recaptured his groove here tonight, as it were, and not a moment too soon!”

”He got lucky, Comet, that’s all! If Zenon had...maybe if...but then if he’d...goddamn it!” Bobby Riley is indignant, incoherent. “Son of a bitch, I don’t get this! Zenon had the match won and then he...he...to hell with this! I’m going to the club tonight!”

”That’s right, Bobbo. You go relax with your buddies at the Rainbow.”

”No, you don’t understand. I had a friend that worked there and – shit, used to work there – knew somebody that worked there – shit!”

Kibagami stands victorious atop the turnbuckles while his trademark cane lies shattered in the ring. He has not gained much tonight – he knew he could beat Zenon, knew he would beat Zenon, and he did. There is no sense of achievement in it. He realizes what he’s done to Alex tonight, and he doesn’t quite feel guilty about it, but another man has been broken in pursuit of his career, and he will remember that when he sleeps tonight.

He hears the fans still chanting his name as he climbs down and turns to take his leave. He walks over the shards of his cane without a second glance and makes his way out of the ring. Tonight may not have been a glorious victory, but it was far from a crushing defeat. He did not prove anything to himself, but maybe he has reminded the fans exactly how he made his name.

Nathaniel Kibagami is who is because he refuses to give up.

Perhaps, for tonight, that is enough.

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SWF From The Vault: Nathaniel Kibagami vs. Alexander Zenon

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