SWF Next In Line!

[Toxxic 0]

The SWF presents...



NEXT IN LINE



LIVE to tape/DVD at 7pm EST on Monday 30th June from the Poliedro de Caracas, Caracas, Venezuela!

MAIN EVENT
WORLD TITLE #1 CONTENDERSHIP MATCH
'The Hardcore Queen' Annie Eclectic vs 'The Maori Badass' Va'aiga©
Oh my my my. Well, things are certainly getting interesting in the SWF. Since the Insane Luchador has been killifying people right left and centre management have decided to raise the stakes. Accordingly, we need to name a challenger to the title. It's either going to be a newly-vicious Annie Eclectic, one of the few people Rickmen hasn't beaten up recently... or the man he put through a flaming table a couple of months ago. Well, Va'aiga's been looking for a way to amuse himself since he and Dace Night took out S.I.N. - this should be as good a way as any...

Rules: Hardcore, in honour of the man they'll be challenging!
Word Limit: 6000
Send To: Toxxic



TAG TITLE #1 CONTENDERSHIP MATCH
TKO (TORU Takahara & KOJI Kitano) vs Clinically Insane (Insane Luchador© and Doctor Pirata)
...but turnabout is fair play. VDN have had a lack of challengers since winning the Tag Titles, but if Va'aiga's getting a chance at IL's gold, the Ill One should get a chance to add to his collection. At his side is his opponent from last show and the HOMETOWN HERO, the one and only Doctor Pirata! Across the ring are TKO, who have shown themselves to be less than effective in singles competition, but still the well-oiled tag team that held the Tag Titles a couple of years ago. Either their undefeated streak ends, or the Insane Luchador's does - can the World Champion's astounding run of form survive an encounter with the devious team from the Orient, or will he and his unfamiliar partner fall to the combination of cheating and high-impact that characterises TKO? We shall see!

Rules: Standard tag. Use the tag ropes.
Word Limit: 6000
Send To: King Cucaracha



MANSON vs Luke Breslin
It may have been TKO who ended up having the last laugh against Luke at 13th Hour, but his in-ring defeat of TORU was noted by the Powers That Be (when Toxxic could tear Landon away from the Spain matches, anyway). There appears to be some sort of bad blood between the younger Breslin and the Raging Bull (at least in MANSON's mind, and that's all that's needed), so the two of them go head-to-head tonight!

Rules: Standard singles
Word Limit: 5000
Send To: Toxxic



Dance Dance Dragon vs Taiga Star
Taiga's back from participating in a memorial show at her old federation, the DVS, and she gets a 'welcome back' present of none other than the masked dancing wonder himself! Spike Jenkins' Cruiserweight Title is flashing with a golden light and you'd have to consider that the winner of this match would be doing sterling work in establishing themselves as a name to be considered for a challenge...

Rules: Cruiserweight Rules (20 count on the outside, throwing an opponent over the top rope results in a DQ)
Word Limit: 5000
Send To: Dace59



SPIKE JENKINS IS 'CROWNED' AS CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION
We all knew Spike was arrogant, but this arrogant? Yup, guess so.



Daniel Smith vs Munich
It's time for Daniel Smith to show what he can do under the unforgiving lights of an actual SWF show. In his way stands Munich, a man who was one win away from getting a World Title shot, but succumbed to something of a suckerpunch from Annie and her sister. It's a battle of the hosses as Munich looks to recover lost momentum, while Smith tries to start some. Will it be bowling shoe ugly? I hope not.

Rules: Standard Singles
Word Limit: 5000
Send To: King Cucaracha



'The Dean Of Professional Wrestling' Jay Hawke vs Ced Ordonez
Jay Hawke is back, and now inside a ring! He was guest commentator on Dance Dance Dragon's match with KOJI Kitano last show, and now he takes on another DDR afficionado in the form of Triple D's recent tag partner, Ced Ordonez! Has the veteran Dean lost a step, or is he still ready to teach a wrestling lesson you'll never forget?

Rules: Standard Singles
Word Limit: 4500
Send To: Toxxic



Austin 'Ragdoll' Baker vs 'The Extreme Solution' Johnathan Clarke
Ragdoll showed up too drunk to wrestle at 13th Hour, so he gets another chance against the same opponent here tonight. A similar failure to perform will result in chokeslams from you know who...

Rules: Standard Singles
Word Limit: 4500
Send To: Toxxic



(send all marked matches, promos etc to Toxxic)

[Toxxic 0]

“Ladies and Gentlemen! The next match! Is scheduled for ONE FALL! And has a 15 minute time limit!” announces Funyon. He does his job well, obviously, as the fans are on their feet, screaming.

 

The lights fall dim...

 

A spark ignites near the ring and runs up the entrance ramp...

 

BOOM!~ A blast of pyro shoots into the air, cueing Adema's "Immortal."

 

"And here comes The Extreme Solution, King. A hardcore individual, indeed." Says Mak slyly. "Yeah, I've met my fair share of 'Hardcore' individuals, Mak," King quips back, "but none were named 'Johnathan.' They were usually Bunny or Candy or whatever I wanted for the right price..."

 

At the top of the ramp stands Johnathan Clarke, arms outstretched to their full wingspan. The fans scream at the top of their lungs as he twists around and begins his descent down the ramp.

 

"Entering first!" says Funyon, "Hailing from Newcastle-upon-Tyne, England! He weighs in at Two Hundred and Fifty Six pounds....THE EXTREEEEEEEEEEEME SOLUTION! JOHNATHAN! CLAAAAARKE!!"

 

Johnathan slides into the ring and stands. He bounces up quickly and hops on the nearest turnbuckle, looking out at his sea of fans as the music fades out.

 

"Johnathan Clarke has certainly got his work cut out for him tonight, King...his opponent hails from Las Vegas, and is a self-described 'Las Vegas Gutter Punk.'" Says Mak. King chuckles. "I like him already." The Gambling Man says in return.

 

"AND HIS OPPONENT!"

 

The fans erupt. They know who this man is, and they are excited to see him in their neck of the woods. "Street Fighting Man" by The Rolling Stones strikes up, sending the fans into even more of a frenzy. The curtain flies open, and out walks Austin Baker, better known as Ragdoll.

 

"Hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada! He weighs in at Two Hundred and Twenty Five Pounds. He is! AUSTIN! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGDOLL! BAAAAAAAAAAAAAKEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRR!!!"

 

Ragdoll walks down the ramp slowly, taking drags off his cigarette as he does so. Some fans outstretch their hands, and Ragdoll slaps them with his elbow.

 

"So far, this guy is everything I was hoping he would be," King states. "His manner of dress, his swagger...this kid, I'm seeing, will go far. This ain't the OAOAST, though...I can't wait to see how he does."

 

Ragdoll is now in the ring. He pulls out his pack of cigarettes and places them under the turnbuckle before turning to Referee Chris Bacon. Ragdoll gives him the thumbs up as he takes one last drag off his cigarette, and the match...

 

*DING DING DING*

 

...begins. Ragdoll flicks his cigarette away, before rushing towards Clarke! Clarke smirks, and rushes forward as well! Ragdoll swings his right arm, looking for a clothesline, but Clarke shows his quickness and ducks underneath. Ragdoll stops on a dime and turns...

 

AND IS NAILED WITH A STIFF ELBOW! Ragdoll staggers back, clutching his forehead. Once again, Clarke dashes forward. He raises his elbow and swings, but it's Ragdoll now who shows off his speed, barely ducking underneath the elbow. Clarke's momentum forces him to spin...AND GETS AN EYEFUL OF SPIT! Ragdoll drops and grabs Clarkes legs, taking the Hardcore Englishman to the ground, before delivering a flurry of fists to and around his face. Clarke is doing a good job of covering up, but a few good punches land. Ragdoll notices this and stands quickly, delivering fiendish kicks to Clarkes ribs. With each kick, Clarke lets out a small yell. After the sixth kick, Ragdoll stops and drops to his knees. He grabs Clarke by his hair and lifts his head...WHAM! The fans groan as Ragdoll's head connects with Clarke's...WHAM! Another vicious headbutt! WHAM, WHAM!! The last two take it out of Ragdoll as well. He holds his head and falls backward, as Clarke lies motionless on the mat.

 

"Oh. My. God. I. LOVE. This. Kid." says King, his tone reaching kid-like excitement.

 

Ragdoll rises to a knee slowly, trying to shake his cobwebs loose as he topples on top of Clarke. Referee Chris Bacon drops for the first pin fall attempt of the night:

 

1!

 

 

 

 

2!!

 

 

 

 

NO!~

 

 

Not even close to three. Ragdoll shakes his head and stands, dragging Clarke up with him. The fans are now chanting Ragdoll's name, causing the gutter punk to smile. WHAM! His smile disappears, courtesy of a Johnathan Clarke elbow to the gut. WHAM! Another elbow causes Ragdoll to loosen his grip on Clarke's hair, and WHAM! The third causes Ragdoll to stumble back. In a flash, Clarke stands, rearing his knife edged hand back...CHOP!~ The fans "Whoo!" as Ragdoll holds his chest tightly, grimacing in pain. Clarke pushes Ragdoll's hands down...CHOP!~ More whoos from the fans, as Ragdoll stumbles back into the nearby ropes. Clarke rears back again...swings...

 

AND HIS HAND IS CAUGHT BY RAGDOLL! Ragdoll acts quickly, wrapping Clarke's arm around his chest, causing the Englishman to twirl slightly. Ragdoll weaves his arm between Clarkes entangled arm and neck...Cobra Clutch! The fans erupt as Ragdoll sweeps the leg backward...

 

"SHOTGUN WEDDING CONNECTS!!" yells Mak. "THAT should keep Clarke down for the three, for sure." Adds King, a proud tone coming over his voice.

 

The cheers are overwhelming as Ragdoll flips Clarke onto his back before...standing? Ragdoll slowly walks over to the far corner and bends down, picking up his pack of cigarettes. He pulls one out of the pack before brandishing a silver Zippo lighter from his pocket. The fans can do nothing but sit and stare at him as he lights his cigarette. He flicks the lighter closed with a flick of his pointer finger, turns, and stares. He simply stares at Clarke, who lies motionless on the mat.

 

"...the hell is he doing?" asks King, "He has the damn match won and he want's a CIGARETTE?!"

 

Ragdoll continues to stare at Johnathan Clarke, who, in a show of pure resilience and toughness, begins to stir.

 

Still, he stares, taking occasional drags off his cigarette.

 

Clarke rolls over onto his stomach, attempting to push himself up.

 

Still, he stares, his eyes wide as he watches his opponent.

 

Clarke lifts himself to a knee, rearing his head back as he looks around, dazed.

 

Still, he stares, a smile now creeping over his maniacal face.

 

Clarke stands slowly. The Shotgun Wedding obviously took a lot out of him.

 

In the blink of an eye, Ragdoll takes off, careening towards the dazed Johnathan Clarke. Ragdoll sidesteps Clarke, bounding onto the second rope. Ragdoll leaps off, twisting his body mid-air, his right knee swinging behind him...

 

"DEVIL DOLL!" screams King.

 

...but it's not to be. Clarke dodges, and as Ragdoll lands the Headdrop Kid spins him around and kicks him in the gut, then hooks him up and lifts...

 

"HEADDROPPAAAAAA!!" Mak shouts as Ragdoll lands headfirst on the mat. Clarke rolls him over and covers...

 

1!

 

 

 

 

2!!

 

 

 

 

3!!!

 

*DING DING DING*

 

"Ladies and gentlemen," Funyon announces, "the winner of the match - JOHNATHAN CLARKE!"

 

"Wha- Clarke won!?" King exclaims in absolute astonishment.

 

"I... this is... OK, I have no idea what's going on," Mak admits as the Geordie jumps up and down in triumph.

 

"Do you think we'll see Ragdoll again?"

 

"After losing to Clarke? No."

 

 

FADE OUT

[Toxxic 0]

(Due to time constraints, we join our next segment in progress.)

 

Francis: “Jay Hawke is in the ring for his first match in months against Ced Ordonez, and he’s asking for the microphone from Funyon.”

 

King: “Good. Get ready for a lesson in how to properly work the mic.”

 

Hawke: “Ced Ordonez. Something of a name. You know, after seeing people like Dance Dance Dragon turn professional wrestling into some sort of weird vaudeville show, it’s going to be a pleasure to have an actual wrestling match. May the best man win.”

 

Jay Hawke extends his right hand to Ced, who reluctantly shakes it.

 

Francis: “And a show of sportsmanship by Jay Hawke. Wonders never cease.”

 

King: “Why do you sound so surprised?”

 

Out of nowhere, Jay Hawke levels Ced with a left hand. Shiny round objects fall from his hand as Ordonez is down, unconscious.

 

Francis: “That’s why! He just hit Ced Ordonez with a roll of quarters!”

 

Jay Hawke yells at referee Nick Soapdish to ring the bell, and with no recourse:

 

 

DING DING DING!

 

 

Jay Hawke then slowly lifts up his nearly unconscious foe and locks him into a crossface chickenwing.

 

Francis: “Wing Span applied, but this is absolutely disgusting!”

 

King: “It’s smart! Lesson #1: You cannot be disqualified before the match starts!”

 

With Ced Ordonez unresponsive, Nick Soapdish again has no recourse:

 

 

DING DING DING!

 

 

Jay Hawke releases the hold, and he looks directly at the camera.

 

Hawke (off-mic): “Let that be a lesson to the Dance Dance Dragons of the world. Don’t mess with a wrestler.”

 

Funyon: “Here is your winner … the Dean of Professional Wrestling … JAAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWWKE!”

 

Francis: “You call that a victory? This proved nothing!”

 

King: “But it goes in the record book as a victory. That’s all that matters.”

[Toxxic 0]

Ben Hardy is walking down the hall with the ubiquitous Gus in tow. The veteran interviewer is clearly looking for someone with something to say, someone with experience and insight, someone who can hold the crowd in the palm of their hand with a turn of phrase and charismatic, effortless delivery.

 

What he actually gets however, is TKO.

 

"AHA! Ben Hardy!"

 

KOJI Kitano steps into the hallway, flanked by the larger and rather more silent figure of TORU Takahara. Darkness K grabs the mic in Hardy's hand, although he grabs Ben's hand as well causing the interviewer to wince in pain.

 

"KOJI is glad we found you Ben, OK? Because TKO have something to say!" KOJI declares.

 

"Er... good?" Ben stammers. "Is, er, Chris Card around or something...?"

 

"Chris Card noh important at this juncture!" KOJI declares, wrapping his mouth around the unfamiliar occidental sounds. "WE are TKO, WE are best tag team in EssDubEff, WE are UNDEFEATED OK?"

 

"I'm pretty sure you lost the Tag Titles at the start of 2006," Hardy points out. KOJI looks at him. Then TORU lowers his shades and leans down, looking at Hardy very closely.

 

"T-K-O is undefeated OK?" KOJI insists, emphasising the letters. "When Maddix-" TORU spits "and Max King-" TORU spits again "stole tag titles, they did noh face TKO! They faced one of us, and Chris Card, due to treachery of JJ Johnson OK?"

 

"Technically I suppose that's true," Hardy admits, glossing over the rather dubious claims of treachery, "so are you confident that you can take down the impressive team of newcomer Doctor Pirata and our World Champion, the Insane Luchador?"

 

"We are TKO! We always win OK? We are ALWAYS confident OK!?" KOJI berates the hapless interviewer. "When we win tonight we go on and face VDN OK, and then we win the EssDubEff Tag Titles for second time OK!?"

 

"...OK?" Ben shrugs, figuring his best bet is to play along.

 

"Damn right OK!" KOJI shouts at him. "Doctoor Pirataa! Insane Luchadoor! WE will win OK!? You will LOSE OK!?" He flips the double bird at the camera. "SPIKE-EUH!" He abruptly turns and marches off, trenchcoat flapping behind him. Ben Hardy turns and looks at TORU Takahara, eyes now once again hidden behind his shades. Gingerly, the interviewer proffers the microphone.

 

"Er..."

 

"I AM TORU!"

 

The Japanese Hammer turns and follows his tag team partner, lleaving Ben Hardy looking confused, bewildered and mildly scared.

 

 

 

FADE OUT

[Toxxic 0]

"Folks, we got some singles action coming up," declares Mak Francis. "but first, it is my solemn duty to inform you tonight that tonight 'Next In Line' is brought to you by thetruth.com! Drugs are bad! Mmkay?"

 

"And by the all-new TSM! Where self-celebration happens!" adds Suicide King, perfectly reading off his sponsor notes.

 

"One-on-one contest coming at you in just a few! But first, Ben Hardy is backstage with a couple of Canadians."

 

We quickly cut to the interview area, where stands the intrepid interviewer.

 

"Ben Hardy here, and with me are both members of the GTA Fight Team; Tod James Stuart and Daniel Smith. In just a few minutes, Daniel you are set to go up against Munich. Needless to say, he's been having nothing but the name 'X-Force 9' in mind for a while now. Tod, yourself as a former member, you've gotta have some thoughts."

 

Pausing for a few seconds, Tod fires a glance at the interviewer.

 

"Yeah, THANKS for bringing up that glorious period of my career, Ben." says Tod. "Now, I've got nothing against whatever it is the XF9 stood for. But in retrospect, I wasn't exactly the ideal candidate for that group. Let's just call that… a phase. Now as for Munich, hey, we're sorry he's upset and all. But he won't have time to whine a group that's been done and forgotten for years. Tonight, Munich, you're in there against Dan The Man." he adds, offering a man-slap to the chest of his partner. "And he couldn't care less about Low Brass, Erek Taylor, Ash Ketchum, his Pikachu fucking fantasies, and his goddamn 150 ridiculous move names. He just cares about the one thing that matters most to us. Winning. Beating you. Proving we are better. While we've got absolutely nothing against you Munich, aside from being jealous at your having such a wonderful moustache, this is nothing personal. Dan The Man is here to beat you."

 

"I have to point out," continues Ben. "Daniel Smith, you are largely unproven in singles competition, while Munich seems determined to break out of his funk, possibly at your expense."

 

Having stared at the floor all this time, arms crossed, Daniel Smith releases a short chuckle to himself.

 

"X Force Nine is fucking dead, all right. It's in the past. Guess I have to show him how to live in the present." states Daniel Smith without looking up. "Let's go."

 

…

 

The SWF comes back to Caracas, Venezuela. The fans react to the quick pans of the jam-packed arena with waving arms and giant cheers. Next in Line continues with a flash over to the announcer’s table, where Mak Francis and The Suicide King sit, ready to fling some fresh banter for the viewing audience.

 

“And welcome back to Next in Line!’ yells an excited Mak. He continues. “We’ve had a start to tonight’s action, and we’re only going to turn it up,” he says. “As if being at the equator in a building with inefficient air conditioning had trouble handling the tempo of an SWF broadcast,” says King. “If you people can ignore my colleague for just one moment, I would like to mention our main event tonight pits the underhanded Queen of Hardcore, also known as Annie Eclectic, facing off with The Maori Badass Va’aiga!” spits out Mak. “I’m still reveling about how Annie’s strategy last week against the utterly lost Munich gained her a number one contender’s match for the SWF Championship!” King exclaims. “It is just oh so delightful,” he says.

 

An audible snort can be heard through Mak’s headset as he fires back. “What she did to Munich last week was a despicable act. And how she used one of his old trademark maneuvers to do him in was just the cherry on the sundae,” says Mak. “The fact that the move name itself drove Munich to denounce his past on the website is the sweetest part of the deal,” says King. “The questionable name of the move, for those of you who were not with us last week was the X-Force Nine,” Mak sighs.

 

“But without further ado, we offer you our next offering of the evening, where the aforementioned Munich takes on tag team specialist, Daniel Smith!” says the excited Francis.

 

“Helter Skelter” kicks up on the house speakers, causing the fans to quickly stand up, cheer, and take notice. Out from behind the curtain comes Dan the Man. His tag team partner from the GTA Fight Team walks just beside him and behind. Funyon readies himself for his introduction.

 

“The following match is scheduled for one fall! Being accompanied by Tod James Stuart…weighing in at 237 ponds…Daniel…Smith!”

 

The fans raise the volume in the arena, as they see a sprinting figure running down the ramp behind the duo. Tod is quickly knocked to the side with a shoulder thrust. He falls into the entranceway crowd barrier, and grabs an arm in a painful reaction. Not a second later, Daniel Smith is knocked to the ramp with a hard clothesline to the back of the head!

 

“It’s Munich, and he’s taking a page out of Annie’s book! He is attacking Smith before the match even begins!” screams Francis. “This is either amazingly stupid, or amazingly smart, Mak! Either way, I like the idea! He’s so broken he needs every advantage he can get,” King volleys.

 

Munich reaches down and roughly yanks Daniel to his feet by his Colin Farrell hairstyle, and launches a big left hand into Smith’s face, catching him off guard and knocking him into the ring apron. The larger quickly follows up with a series of boots to Smith’s chiseled midsection. Tod comes to and runs in a sprint towards his attacker. He leaps into the air and drives a forearm into the back of Munich’s neck, sending the man into Dan the Man, squeezing him into the apron. Tod then pulls Munich off of his partner and throws him to the floor. The referee from the last Munich massacre, barks at the men rough housing outside of his ring.

 

“And Tod James Stuart comes back into the fray and makes life a bit easier for his partner for the time being,” says Mak. “Munich better get into the ring right now, or else we may see a repeat of 13th Hour!” King chimes in.

 

Munich, from his knees, throws a back elbow into Tod’s midsection, taking his wind away momentarily. He then lunges for the still semi stunned Smith, and grapples with him. The two strong men embrace against the apron, throwing ineffective punches, elbows, and knee lifts. The two men begin to roll into the ring, helped out by Daniel’s tag team partner, the wrestler formerly known as Tod deKindes. He shoves them through, but makes sure to throw a parting shot at Munich. The fans in the nearby sections whoop and holler at the action. Finally, the two men enter the ring. Soapdish doesn’t call for the bell. Instead, he starts yelling and pointing at Tod. He points with an open hand straight at Stuart’s heart, and then motions towards the backstage area, effectively throwing him out of the match!

 

“Our competitors have finally entered the ring after the initial ruckus, and look at Nick Soapdish! He is taking control of the situation, and showing Stuart his locker room chair!” says the amazed Mak. “It’s honestly good to see Soapdish manning up and taking control of the ring!” adds King.

 

The two men roll around in the ring, still throwing their ineffective punches. As road agents come down the aisle to escort Stuart back to the coffee pot next to some technicians, Soapdish looks down at his two brawling patrons, and shrugs his shoulders. He simply calls for the bell to start the match.

 

DING DING DING!

 

“And our match is officially underway,” says Mak. “A tussle inside of the ring as over 550 pounds of flesh rolls around on the canvas,” he continues. “Munich has the element of surprise on his side, but I think his lack of stamina, and talent will be his downfall,” adds King.

 

The two men continue to roll around in the ring for a moment, until they both finally reach their feet. The crowd is buzzing in a haze, as Smith quickly gains the advantage. He swiftly peppers Munich with a series of forearm blows to the head, which moves Munich towards the side of the ring and up against the ropes. Smith quickly advances on his elder and, after grasping him by the wrist, sends him across the ring with an Irish Whip. Munich bounces off the ropes with much speed, and approaches his adversary. Dan the Man ducks down, looking for a back-body drop. Munich sees this, slides to his knees, and grasps Smith by the back of his neck. He then gets to his feet, jumps up, and drops to his knees, delivering a quick jawbreaker to his opponent. The impact whiplashes his opponent to his back. The crowd buzzes in excitement.

 

“A great reversal by Munich, as he takes the muscular Smith down with a splendid jawbreaker!” yells Francis. “Munich has gotten off to a good start in the early going here! Lets just see if he can keep up his good luck!” King retorts.

 

Munich quickly takes advantage of his downed opponent, and straddles Smith. He starts to throw inaccurate, but strong lefts and rights toward the head of Smith. Dan raises his elbows to absorb the blows. Soapdish is on the case, and gets Munich off of Smith before the count of five. Munich leaps off of Smith and throws his hands to the sky in front of the Venezuelan fans, drawing of reaction of equal cheers and boos. Munich quickly advances to his downed opponent, and drags the muscular Smith to his feet. The transplanted Texan quickly puts the big man in a front facelock, and without much resistance, pick ups hi up and drops him over with a quick suplex. Munich quickly floats over, and hooks the leg with a pinning attempt. Soapdish is on the call…

 

ONE!

 

KICKOUT!!

 

“Munich keeps up the pressure with a suplex that gets a one count,” says Mak. “Any time you can have your opponent burn energy with a kick out is a good time,” adds King.

 

The former IGNJL Champion climbs back to his feet, dragging Smith with him. Daniel counters this with a series of forearms to the stomach, knocking back his opponent. Smith rises and grabs Munich by the wrist, looking for an Irish Whip into the far corner. Munich momentarily reverses the whip, trying to send Smith. Dan the Man pivots his hip and reverses once more. He sends Munich into the corner with a resounding thud. Munich arches his back in discomfort. Smith sees the opportunity, and charges into the corner. Daniel leaves his feet, looking for the splash into the corner. Munich, eyes wide as saucers, is able to dodge the splash, letting the aggressive Smith slam into the turnbuckle chest-first. Smith takes a quick gasp for air after the collision, and Munich scurries behind the bigger man. Daniel Smith reacts to the two hands grasped around his stomach anyway a heterosexual male should, with a quick, yet harsh elbow to the jaw. The force sends Munich backwards for a moment, and in an enraged daze, he charges forward, forearm first. He sends it into the lower lumbar of Smith’s back, taking control. After affirming his grip, Munich tosses Daniel backwards with a sharp German suplex. Munich bridges and holds onto Smith. With a huff, Soapdish gets in position.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

KICKOUT!!!

 

“And he got him! No he didn’t!” yells Mak. “A bit antsy there aren’t we, Mak?” teases King. “You will have to excuse me, King. Munich has come out with a fire tonight, and seems to have finally shaken off the ring-rust that has plagued him since his return,” answers Mak. “Ever move he hits looks like the end,” he says. King, with a all-knowing sense in his language says, “While I agree that Munich looks good out there, he has had a habit of running out of gas since his return.”

 

Both men climb back to their feet, Munich winning the race. He, however, doesn’t protect himself, as Smith takes advantage with a forearm to the jaw than he leans into, sending Munich into the ropes. Dan gets up to his feet, and then leans forward. He flattens out his hand, and slams Munich in the chest with a chop, that echoes throughout the arena.

 

WHOOOO!

 

Munich’s smoke filled lungs ache from the terrible pain. Smith, with a devilish grin, comes forward another chop.

 

WHOOOO!

 

Munich’s chest hair seems to shed and fall into the apron as he is pummeled with another chop. Smith sets up another chop, this one with the amount of mustard on it that is generally saved for a Chicago style hot dog.

 

WHOOOO!

 

“God damn!!” screams Munich as he takes a knee into the canvas, his chest turning quickly into a shade of light red. With anger, and an air of desperation in his movements, he rakes his fingers into Smith’s eyes. Daniel reels back, favoring his face. The native of Chicago walks forward and spins with Smith’s hand in his. Munich goes for the Irish whip, and sends Smith across the ring. Munich quickly doubles over, obviously looking for the backbody drop, an obviously babyface mistake. Smith, the burning of Munich’s nicotine stained fingers exiting his eyes, is able to put on the breaks when approaching his opponent. Smith quickly chickenwings Munich’s arms and locks them into place. Without much effort what so ever, he is able schlep Munich up into position for the powerbomb. Munich tries to counter with a ‘rana. Smith clenches onto Munich and lets him hang for a moment. The smaller man, beaten in this exchange and possibly this very match is spun 180 degrees, brought up to Smith’s chest, and is then driven to the ground with a layout powerbomb! The Toronto Titan crawls on top of Munich and looks for the pinfall.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

KICKOUT!!!

 

“Munich is just able to kick out at two from that double underhook powerbomb! Just able,” emphasizes Mak. “He might have turned around this entire match with that move,” adds King.

 

Smith quickly rises to his feet with a furrow in his Hollywood brow. He gets right into Soapdish's face, close enough to share his aftershave. After a brief exchange, three fingers from Smith and only two from Soapdish, Daniel grabs Munich by the scruff of his neck and deposits him to the floor with a hard toss. Smith quickly follows Munich to the floor. Munich slowly rises to his hands and knees. Pressing his lips together, Smith comes forward with a thunderous kick to Munich’s ribs. The smaller man rolls to the side, and winds up on his knees, clutching his ribs as if they want escape his body.

 

“What a thunderous kick to the midsection by Smith,” says Francis. “No offense to Smith, but I’m sure his craps are thunderous!” says King.

 

Smith, with a snarl approaches his very vulnerable opponent, and places one of his bear paws to the throat of Munich and drags him to his feet. With a grunt that is cheer on by the fans, he lifts Munich into the air, obviously looking to perform his signature version of the miracle ecstasy bomb! The veteran, obviously the wiser one, once again drives his claw into Smith’s eyes. The move brings whistles and hisses from the crowd. Munich drops down his feet, as Smith once again is blinded. The smaller man retreats over towards the steel stairs, to prepare his next move. Smith wipes the muck from his eyes and charges his adversary. Munich sees him coming and trips him up with a drop toe hole into the steel steps! The top section goes flying to the floor, and Smith immediately grabs his left shoulder as he lies on the bottom section of the stairs. In the ring, Soapdish’s count reaches the number six.

 

“A horrendously smart move by Munich, driving Smith into the steel steps with that perfectly placed drop toe hold!” yells Francis. “That was a dirty move, Francis. Munich knows that he can’t beat Munich in any other way but using his mind. That’s a good thing to see from him,” says King.

 

Munich gets back to his feet and quickly rolls into the ring, and then rolls right out again, causing Soapdish to restart his count. He rolls back out of the ring and advances to Smith’s prone position. He steps on Smith’s left hand that is on the steel step. He then quickly rains down stomp upon stomp on the newly injured shoulder of Smith. After Munich drags Smith to his feet, he slams his arms into the steel ring post before throwing him inside.

 

“Munich looks to have the advantage here, and he is really taking it to Smith,” says Francis.

 

As they re-enter the ring, Munich quickly grabs Smith and puts him into position for a suplex. Smith, much too strong, is reverse the suplex, and hauls Munich into the air in the middle of the ring. He holds him into the air for a few moments, drawing the crowd into the match. He then brings down the smaller man with a thunderous stalled suplex! Both men are down for a moment, the tide of the match turning. Finally, both men climb back to their feet, bringing heavy. They begin to exchange punches and elbows. Back and forth they go, until Munich gets the advantage with a chop to the throat. Smith gasps for air in the middle of the ring, and Munich runs off to the ropes. He bounces and comes flying at Smith, who catches him in midair and drives him to the mat with a savage powerslam. Smith hooks the leg and looks for the win.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

NO!!!

 

“And Smith almost gets Munich with a powerslam! Smith has fought through the pain and looks to put Munich away,” says Francis. “Munich seems to be running out of gas. Smith seems to be a much better conditioned athlete,” examines King.

 

After clutching his shoulder in pain for a moment, Smith drags Munich back to a vertical base. He quickly shoves Munich into the corner. Daniel then quickly pulls Munich by the arm, looking for a short-armed and, more importantly, the Domi special. Munich ducks the clothesline, holds onto the arm, and quickly locks in a crossface chickenwing and Smith’s now troublesome shoulder!

 

“Crossface chickenwing!” shouts Francis.

 

The fans hop up to the hop, grasping the legendary status of the move. Smith groans in pain as Munich tries to tear away at the shoulder. Munich tries to fall back, attempting to bring Smith to the mat. Dan the Man is much too strong, though. After a short struggle, Smith finally falls into the ropes. Soapdish runs over to break it up. After the count gets to four, Munich breaks off of his adversary. Smith shakes out the shoulder as Munich retreats. Munich comes forward moments later with a sidekick to the arm. Smith grimaces, and as he reaches down to grab his aching arm, Munich brings him down an armbar, further wearing away at the shoulder.

 

“Munich is doing some great work on that shoulder, King” says Mak. “I would have to agree. It’s simple wrestling. Smith’s greatest strength is his strength, so why not attack it?” questions King.

 

The crowd waits in baited breath, as Smith tries to power up and out of the armbar. Eventually, using his tree trunk-like legs, is able to get back to his feet. He quickly pushes Munich off of him and to the ropes. Munich springs off the ropes and comes back. Smith backs out of the way for a moment, sending Munich to the ropes once more. The Chicagoan then bounds off of the ropes and has his chest caved in with a flying shoulder tackle! Munich, in shock, climbs back to his feet. Smith is quick to capitalize, as he beats Munich around the ring with a series of hard forearms to the face. Finally, Smith grabs Munich and picks him up. He runs towards the near corner, and crotches Munich on the top rope. After a wipe of his brow and a forearm to Munich’s jaw, he climbs the turnbuckles, looking for a superplex. After getting into proper position, Smith lifts Munich into the air. The veteran kicks and fights his way out of the superplex. He flips over and lands on his feet in the ring. After a quick forearm into Smith’s back, he goes back to back with Smith, and puts the larger in a crucifix. Munich strains, and lifts Smith out of the corner, and sits out, driving Daniel to the mat with a Munich Edge. Munich hops on top of the downed Smith.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

NO!!!

 

“And Munich almost defeats Smith with that well timed sit-out crucifix powerbomb. Also known as the Munich Edge!” exclaims Francis. “Any time is a good time for a crucifix powerbomb,” says King.

 

Smith gets a shoulder up, which just makes an angry Munich kick him in the side. Smith feels the brunt of the kick and rolls into the middle of the ring, flat on his back. Munich takes a glance at the corner, and starts to make his way towards it. The fans in the arena raise the volume level as Munich climbs to the top rope, obviously looking for his guillotine legdrop. Munich stands, feet together on the top turnbuckle. He looks out at his target. Munich gives it a thought and then shakes his head. He jumps down from the top rope, shaking of the boos he hears from the bloodthirsty fans. He approaches Smith, and is caught off guard as Smith catches him with a small package!!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

NO!!!

 

“Smith with a small package for two! What a terrible mistake by Munich. It was almost tragic!” says Francis. “He was looking for his old leg drop, but he doesn’t have the confidence in his leg. You need to make sure you can pull off every move you commit to. He should have at least come off of the top with a splash onto Smith,” says King. “However, if Smith would have moved on the splash, Munich couldn’t have gotten pinned from the impact of missing alone,” Francis says.

 

Both men climb to their, Munich climbing at a much faster rate. He lunges forward with a clothesline that Smith deftly ducks. As Munich turns back around, he is met with a right hand around his throat and a look of determination on Smith’s face. The hairy man is taken off of his feet and brought up into the air. Smith then drives Munich down to the mat with a harsh Miracle Ecstasy Bomb! After landing the move, Smith delivers a hard double handed slap to the chest, as he looks for the pin.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

NO!!!!

 

“And Munich kicks out of the Miracle on Yonge Street! What a pure display of power from Smith. Both men are leaving it in the ring tonight!” yells Francis.

 

After the pin, both of the winded men lie on the mat, Munich holding his lower back, Smith holding his left shoulder. Finally, they both climb to their feet. And start to trade once more. Trails of spit and sweat litter the ring and the ringside floor as both Daniel and Munich level each other with sharp blows. Munich is somehow able to get the upper hand, as he drives a knee into Smith’s stomach, doubling him over. Munich quickly puts on a standing head scissors.

 

UUHHHH!!

 

The fans anticipate the C-4 Crunch from Munich. As Munich reaches around and tries to connects his hands around Smith’s waist. Daniel, quickly, grabs onto Munich’s right hand and spins through, trapping Munich’s hand between his own legs. In a flash, Smith has Munich in a pumphandle! With a grunt, Smith lifts Munich up over his head. Munich leans and floats over. He grabs Smith by the neck and winds up bending Smith backwards. Using the momentum of their bodies, the former JL Champ lifts Smith up and hits him with an improbable Osaka Street Cutter, also known as the Munich Cutter! Smith’s head bounces back like he got hit with a beam of steel, and falls to his back in shock. Munich quickly climbs on top for a cover.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

NO!!!!

 

“A Munich Cutter can’t keep Smith down, King!” “Munich is in a way were he’s either going to win this or get himself disqualified. He is beside himself right now1” exclaims King.

 

After shooting Soapdish a murderous look, Munich rolls Smith over onto his stomach, pushes his weight onto Smith’s shoulders, and drives elaborate and powerful knees into Smith’s head. The life starts to go out of Smith’s legs, as Soapdish finally gets Munich off of him. Smith is in another world, his legs like jelly, as Munich drags him to his knees and puts him in a standing head scissors, looking for the C-4 Crunch once more. Smith, out of instinct, senses the danger, and hooks his arms around the back of Munich’s legs. The angry Texan drives repeated forearms into Smith’s back, coercing him to cooperate. Finally, after working Smith into a fine dough, Munich hooks him arms around Smith’s stomach and lifts him vertical. After hooking his arms through, Munich drives Smith’s head into the mat with the C-4 Crunch!!

 

“This has to be it!” screams Francis.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

THREE!!!!

 

DING DING DING!

 

“Phantom of the Opera” quickly sounds up in the arena. The fans give a fifty-fifty reaction to Munich, who after rising to his knees, rolls out of the side of the ring victorious, and terribly winded. Back in the middle of the ring, Soapdish checks on Smith, who is slowly coming to. Munich slowly starts a painful walk back to the locker room.

 

“What a hard fought match tonight between Daniel Smith and Munich, King,” says Francis. “Due to Smith’s left shoulder, he couldn’t stabilize Munich in that pumphandle, which was the difference in this match,” answers King. “This win will surely help Munich in his quest to climb the rankings here in the SWF,” finishes Francis.

 

As Munich retreats up the ramp, he notices a fan gesturing towards him. The fan holds a homemade X Force Nine poster and waves it at Munich. The tired competitor slowly approaches the fan, and takes the poster from him. Munich tears it into eight pieces and throws it back at the fan. The SWF then fades to black.

 

[Toxxic 0]

"OK, just sign there and you're done," Toxxic tells the figure in the room with him. The figure reaches out and makes a scrawl with the ballpoint pen, then hands it back to the General Manager. "Excellent," Toxxic grins, "we're all sorted then." He looks at his watch. "You've only got a few minutes before it'll be underway. I'll make sure the production crew have the music cued up."

 

"OK," the other man nods, the lights reflecting in his shades. He pauses and looks at Toxxic thoughtfully. "You really don't like this guy, do you?"

 

"How can you tell?" Toxxic grins. "No, I don't. Long history. Which is what makes this little arrangement so pleasing, because I can do something that pisses him off with the completely truthful explanation that it's good for business."

 

"I don't want to get involved in politics this time," the other man says, shaking his head, "I've made that mistake before. I'm just here to do a job and get paid. But there's something about someone claiming to be the greatest Cruiserweight ever that makes me want to have a say."

 

"Go get 'im," Toxxic grins. "I'm looking forward to it." The other man turns and leaves the room, leaving the Straight-Edge Sensation chuckling quietly.

 

 

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

 

A purple light illuminates throughout the arena, as SWF Next in Line returns from its previous segment. Inside the squared circle, crew members are finishing up setting up the props for the next segment…props that include a flush red carpet, an alter with a large hardcover book opened on top, and a royal coronation chair.

 

"Welcome back, fans," begins the paraplegic announcer, Mak Francis. "We are LIVE from the Poliedro de Caracas in Venezuela!"

 

“Up next is one of the most anticipated moments in the SWF’s long and glorious history,” the Suicide King exclaims. “Almost a month after defeating three of the worlds top cruiserweights, Spike Jenkins will be crowned as the SWF Cruiserweight Champion!”

 

“Spike is coming off back-to-back victories. First, winning the Cruiserweight Title in the Air Raid match at Duck & Cover and then defeating MANSON at 13th Hour! The Hollywood Superstar has been on one hell of a roll recently.”

 

“This is great, Francis! Look around! Royal servants surrounding the ringside area! A jester in the middle of the ring! It’s a royal celebration here in Venezuela!”

 

Mak Francis lets out a deep sigh. “Yes, Spike has been doing a great job lately…but I think this is way too much.”

 

Before Francis can continue, he is stopped short by the blaring sound of a royal band of trumpeters at the top of the stage. Gold glitter begins to fall from the top of the arena onto the Venezuelan crowd, who begin to boo the impeding arrival of the SWF Cruiserweight Champion.

 

In the center of the ring, the Jester stands over the open book on top of the alter. With a microphone in hand, he begins to read from it.

 

“Please, rise, for we are all in the presence of the NEW SWF Cruiserweight Champion of the World! WELCOME THE KING OF THE SWF! HOLLYWOOD SPIKE JENKINS!”

 

The trumpets begin again, as well as a piano picking up in the background. The spotlights at the top of the arena light up the entrance way, as SWF Cruiserweight Champion, ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins makes his way out from behind the curtain.

 

Jenkins stand at the top of the ramp, wearing a black cloak that covers his whole body. With the hood covering his face, he holds his arms up in the air, showcasing the Cruiserweight Title around his waist.

 

*POW* *POW* *POW* *POW* *POW* *POW*

 

A series of gold explosions rip across the stage, behind the champion.

 

*POW* *POW* *POW* *POW* *POW* *POW*

 

Golden pyrotechnics shoot up from inside the ring posts, soaring straight up into a single point at the top of the arena.

 

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM*

 

“If Spike has become the King of anything, it is the King of Pyrotechnics!” jokes Francis.

 

The Cruiserweight Champion slowly stalks his way down to the ring, eyeing the Venezuelan fans as he passes by. He makes his way around the ringside area and climbs up the steel steps, up onto the ring apron, before finally stepping into the ring. He peels the hood off of his head and once again, raises his arms up in the air to show the Cruiserweight title strapped around his waist.

 

“The fans are not taking a liking to the newly crowned Cruiserweight Champion, Francis.”

 

“Ever since he won that title, he hasn’t really given the fans a reason to cheer him, King.”

 

Inside the ring, the Jester hands Spike the microphone and quickly exits. The Straight Edge Superstar calmly walks back and forth, before finally taking a seat in the royal coronation chair.

 

“Ahem.” Jenkins starts off, clearing his throat. The crowd responds by breaking out into chants that imply that Jenkins sucks.

 

“I said AHEM!” Spike raises his voice, only for the crowd to get louder. “You people…you sleaze, have no respect for anyone! Before you stands a champion, a true athlete and competitor and none of you have the manners to shut your mouths!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“On May twenty-eighth, two thousand and eight…I, once again, became the SWF Cruiserweight Champion! History tends to repeat itself. My first two title reigns were record breaking and history making reigns. And now? Well, the third time is the charm.”

 

“You see, in my long and storied career in the Smarks Wrestling Federation, I have proven to be the most dominate and most skillful wrestler to ever step foot in this ring. Nobody in the past, present or future will EVER hit as hard as I do, will show as much flawless technique in this ring as I do, or will ever perform at such high levels, so above-standard…as I do.”

 

Spike rises up out of his seat and stands in the center of the ring. He unclasps the cloak and lets it drop to the mat.

 

“Now, you may be asking yourself this question. Why are you having a royal crowning ceremony? The answer is simple. I have proven, over and over again, that I am the greatest talent this company has ever seen. It is only suiting that I receive the highest regards, a royal ceremony to crown me the NEW SWF Cruiserweight Champion!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“You see this championship belt around my waist? Get use to it! Because it will be here for a long, long time. There is NOBODY in this company that can defeat me.”

 

Jenkins angrily shouts at the audience, looking out amongst the crowd. With an evil smirk on his face, he unstraps the Cruiserweight title from around his waist and holds it high in the air. With his free hand, he brings the microphone back up to speak.

 

“I am the most dominate force in this industry today! No one and I repeat no one can defeat me. And I dare, nay; I challenge any of you in the back, any of you in the crowd, anyone watching at home! If you think you’re hard enough, come and have a go, heh.”

 

The crowd jear and boo in response, some fans look to one another to see if any among them has the guts to get up there and beat the snide out of Spike, but most eyes of the crowd turn towards the stage entrance, waiting, hoping for some one to come out and challenge him.

 

But there's nothing. Just the crying of the crowd trying to will some one out here.

 

Then, the house lights start to drop out, rows of them dropping, overhead spots turning off, slowly the arena descends into darkness.

 

“Oh come on!” The King brays from his commentary position. “Didn't we get over the whole dark arena thing years ago? It's not spooky or mysterious, it's just lame!”

 

“How do you know it's an entrance, King? We could just be suffering a power out, fuses blowing, that sort of thing. It does happen.”

 

“One at a time? Give me a break Frances, some one's coming out here you mark my words. They just don't have the guts to do it under the spot lights!”

 

The crowd to can sense something is going on, little cheers of hope starting, rippling around the darkened arena as the excitement and anticipation picks up a notch. Spike stands in the ring, squinting into the darkness and looking around, turning to what he thinks might be some one entering the ring. “Hey! Who the hell do you think you are getting the lights dropped huh? You think you've got some pull around here?! Well I'm Hollywood Spike Jenkins, the greatest cruiserweight ever and you're... SCREEEEECH!”

 

The mic feed from the ring is cut before the feedback of the mic being slammed into Spike causes the entire sound system to blow. For a moment the ring rocks to impacts, movement and the sounds of things breaking, but all in the darkness till once more silence echoes out from the ring.

 

*BOOM!*

 

The four ring posts blast out four streams of fire into the arena, lighting up the ring in an half light to show the remains of Spikes coronation set and the cruiserweight champion sprawled out amongst the rubble and a lone fighter standing tall, the fire reflecting off of his shades and leather jacket, his gaze fixed on Hollywood's prone form for a moment as the first bars of Linkin Park's Point's of Authority hit the arena's sound system.

 

“It... can't be!” Mac Frances breathes into the microphone at ringside, actually taken aback for a moment, for if any one would recognise the figure standing tall in the ring right now it would be a man who'd once smashed his skull open with a manhole cover.

 

“It is Frances, I don't believe it myself but it's him! No one else is that damn arrogant, that cock sure, that... irritating! That can only be Divefire!” King confirms to his broadcast partner sounding rather shocked himself.

 

The figure in the ring turns slowly upon hearing his theme music hit and walks to the ring edge, slipping out of it as the arena lights come back up to there normal level to fully illuminate the proceedings and fully showing off the figure of the former IGNWF UK, Tag, and World Champion. The murmurings in the crowd cascade as recognition to the music, the figure, and the focused violence in his wake flow through them all and suddenly it breaks through into hard cheers, celebrating the return of the fiery ninja as he slowly stalks up the entrance way neither looking to the crowds or back to the ring as the current Cruiserweight champion pulls himself to his feet and leans over the ring ropes, clutching at the back of his head and looking at the back of his new found enemy. “Hey...!” Hollywood shouts in to the mic a little breathlessly. The music drops out as Spike's voice cuts in. “HEY! I'm talking to you, who ever the hell you are! You don't get to walk off after blind siding me Mr Nobody!” To that, Divefire turns at the top of the stage and looks back into the ring with not bothered look, though it does seem to satisfy Spike somewhat who takes a step back into the ring and stands straighter. “So you think you're so cool, who ever the hell you are, coming in here, getting the lights down, blind siding me! You seriously must be the single most cowedly fighter I've ever seen to do a stunt like this, who do you think you are huh? C'mon, give me a name, tell me something!”

 

A visible frown etches into Divefire's face as he looks back down into the ring, and reaches into his jacket, pulling out a mic and making a point to slowly raise it up. “You don't know who I am?” He growls in a dark tone. “You claim to be the best cruiserweight in the history of the SWF and you don't know who I am?!” The words rip out of him, in a blast of hot anger. “Then here's a history lesson, Hollywood!

 

“I am, the former IGNWF UK Champion! The former IGNWF Tag Champion! The former IGNWF World Champion! The former IGNWF Commissioner! I am the man they call Divefire, and I am here, Spike Jenkins, to burn! You! Down!”

 

And the crowds, they explode. The memories of his past exploits being reinforced by his voice, his anger ripping out of the sound system for the indignity of ever being forgotten, and they chant for him. And as for Spike, his face pails ever so slightly.

 

“You issued an open challenge, Hollywood, I accept. Next time, we're all going to find out just how bright you can burn!” And with a final flash of his fiery nature, Divefire tosses the mic to the side and turns on his heals, stalking into the back, leaving Spike to ponder what will be.

 

“He's back King, after all this time, Divefire's back...!” Fraces bellows over the sound of the crowds.

 

“Hope you're health insurance is paid up, Frances. You might need it” King snerks. “Next up, Dance Dance Dragon vs Taiga Star!”

Edited July 2, 2008 by Toxxic

[Toxxic 0]

 

 

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Funyon says, microphone raised to his lips, "Our following contest is scheduled for one-fall, and is being fought under cruiserweight rules! The official for this contest is Brian Warner!"

 

The crowd cheers in anticipation.

 

"Introducing first, weighing in at one hundred and 'none of your damn business' pounds and hailing from Helltown, Haverhill, Massachusetts.... The Princess of Hardcore... TAAAAIGAAAAA STAAARRRRR!!"

 

 

 

Be a Man roars through the Poliedro de Caracas to the cheers of the audience. The lights go crazy for the first few riffs, then after the pause, the lights all turn on and ultraviolet lasers stream from the entrance. Taiga Star steps out and makes her way down the ramp, kissing hands and slapping babies... no scratch that, it's kissing babies and slapping hands! Some of the fans welcome her back from her two show absence. Taiga rolls in the ring under the bottom rope then pops up and poses for a moment before stretching in a corner. The lights go back to normal.

 

 

 

"And her opponent, weighing in at two hundred and nineteen pounds and hailing from Heaven's Dancefloor... The Strong Style Party Animal... DANCE... DANCE... DRRRRAAGOOOON!!"

 

 

 

The crowd goes nutty with a huge pop. Hung Up starts and a DDR hologram shines down on the stage. All is still, DDD walks out quietly, wearing his ring robe, colourful streamers handing down from his mask down his back. Suddenly the song picks up pace, the lights go epileptic, and a dozen slender women in sexy outfits surround him as they all BUST - A - MOVE!! The crowd also goes crazy dancing, but not with the obvious skill of The Dragon.

 

The dancers shuffle off the stage as the Masked Dance Assassin dances down the ramp and into the ring. Taiga is a bit put off by the display of danceitude, not knowing quite what to make of it. She decides that sliding out of the ring and thinking about it is the best move for her at the moment. Dragon has yet to stop dancing, grooving and moving in the middle of the ring, the crowd clapping and moving their feet.

 

 

 

"I don't think Taiga Star has ever faced anyone with a... personality... quite like Triple D possesses." Mak Francis says.

 

Suicide King turns to his broadcast partner. "Don't lie, you love the Dancing Dragon. I saw you busting out moves, wheeling yourself back and forth to the beat."

 

"You're right King, the power of the Dance just overwhelmed me for a moment."

 

 

 

Taiga slides back into the ring after the music stops. Referee Brian Warner checks the wrestlers for foreign objects before calling for the bell.

 

 

 

*DING! DING! DING!*

 

 

 

"And we're on our way, in what promises to be quite the clash of styles." promises Mak.

 

 

 

Taiga and Triple D walk into the centre of the ring. Taiga extends her hand in a show of good sportsmanship. Dragon takes her hand... and leads her in a dance, waltzing and spinning and ending by dipping her. Taiga takes a few steps back and says, "What the fuck?"

 

Triple D answers with dance. Taiga is confused and asks the ref what the heck is going on. Referee Warner tells her that he wants a... DANCE OFF! Taiga shakes her head in refusal. Dragon just dances some more. The crowd starts a chant.

 

 

 

"DANCE-OFF! DANCE-OFF! DANCE OFF!!"

 

 

 

Dragon stops dancing and makes a gesture, inviting Taiga into the middle of the ring to show what she's got. Taiga refuses, garnering boos from the crowd. Taiga yells at some of them for booing her, explaining that she doesn't dance. The crowd boos further and DDD practically begs her to dance.

 

 

 

"DANCE! DANCE! DANCE!!" the crowd yells

 

 

 

Taiga finally gives up, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. The stands in the middle of the ring, takes a deep breath... and starts the Fat Girl Booty Shake!! Dragon seems slightly impressed. The crowd cheers. Taiga finishes off with the Titty Shake, getting a pop from the crowd. Taiga, now slightly embarrassed about shaking her breasts in front of thousands of people, asks if the match can start now. Please?

 

Taiga offers up the test of strength. Dragon laces fingers with one hand... then the other... and starts dancing again. Taiga, sick of this dancing business already, stomps one one of his feet (when it stops moving, that is). Dragon hops around a bit before Taiga releases one hand, and pulls his other hand behind him in a hammerlock. Dragon shuffles to the ropes and uses them to flip out of the hold, then reverses into a hammerlock of his own. Taiga twists out of this, rolls aside, and gets a wristlock on The Dancing One.

 

Sick of the hold for hold pace, Dragon uses the wristlock to his advantage, pulling at Taiga and sending her flying with an armdrag. This begins a wild series of various armdrags, one quickly after another. Taiga is tossed all over the ring, getting dizzy and not quite knowing where she is, other than inside a wrestling ring. Eventually she realizes she's near the ropes, and she slides to the outside, landing in a not-so-graceful manner. Dragon uses the opportunity to do some flippy move on the outside, but he sees Taiga scurry out of the way at the last moment, and he jumps off the ropes back into the ring instead, where he dances to himself while waiting for Taiga to get back into the ring. She paces, grumbling to herself, then rolls into the ring at the count of seven.

 

Taiga mockingly dances over to Triple D, which the crowd boos at a little. They engage in a collar and elbow tieup. Dragon grabs the side headlock. Taiga gets out of it by dropping down suddenly. She rolls away and quickly pops up. They go for another collar and elbow tieup, again Dragon gets the headlock, again Taiga drops down and rolls out of it.

 

For a third time, Dragon offers up the collar and elbow... which Taiga declines, deciding to headbutt him instead, sending him stumbling backward. He recovers quickly though, and elbows Taiga in the face. Taiga returns with an uppercut. Dragon returns with a chop. Taiga returns with another headbutt. Again, Dragon shakes this off, then knocks Taiga down with a Moonsault Press!

 

 

 

Mak Francis pipes up. "See, this is the clash of styles I was talking about before, Taiga with the ground and pound, Triple D with the high-flying."

 

King scoffs. "I doubt a woman the size of Ms. Star could fly anywhere.

 

 

 

As Taiga sits up, The Masked Dance Assassin delivers a Dragon Kick square to her back! She winces but gets up with an angry look, then kicks him in the side. Dragon kicks Taiga. Taiga kicks Dragon. Dragon kicks Taiga. Taiga kicks Dragon. Dragon kicks Taiga. Taiga kicks Dragon. Dragon kicks Taiga. Taiga kicks Dragon.

 

 

 

Suicide King is seen nodding off at the announce booth.

 

"It's obvious these two love their kicks, and from the look of it, they seem to be quite evenly matched in the force behin.... KING!"

 

King shakes his head and wipes the drool from his chin. "Oh, sorry Mak, the repetition was getting to me there."

 

 

 

Suddenly DDD breaks the pattern with a dropkick that sends Taiga flying. She rolls out of it and Dragon armdrags her around a bit, getting her all turned around and dizzy again. Then she walks right into a reverse DDT! Dragon hooks a leg and Referee Warner counts the pin.

 

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

 

Taiga kicks out easily. Dragon picks her up with a Dragon suplex, and pins her again.

 

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

 

Again Taiga kicks out with ease. Dragon pulls her up and whips her in the corner, where he follows her in and throws a Violence Party!! Taiga's head is rolling with the elbow strikes and her chest is getting red by the chops. He gets her out of the corner with a monkey flip... and Taiga surprises herself and everyone else in the building by landing on her feet! Dragon almost runs into a Big Boot... but he grabs her leg and takes her down with a Dragon Screw legwhip! Then he lands on her with a standing back senton! He goes for the pin...

 

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

 

Another easy kick out by Taiga Star. Dragon picks her up and slings her into the ropes. She rebounds and Dragon leaps over her. She rebounds off the other side and hits him across the midsection with a clothesline. He is knocked down, but kip-ups and is all over Taiga again with the armdrags. Taiga attempts to get in one of her own, but lucha armdraggery was never a strong point with her, and she is quickly out-armdragged. She finally slides out of the ring under the bottom rope for a time-out.

 

 

 

"I knew she wouldn't be able to keep up with someone the likes of Dance Dance Dragon." Suicide King says.

 

"Well, let's see how the match turns out before you pass judgment like that."

 

"It's not judgment, Mak, it's a fact."

 

 

 

Taiga paces on the outside. Dragon walks over to the ropes and Taiga pulls his feet out from under him, making him fall. Then she pulls him to the floor and knocks him with some forearms. The referee starts the 20 count.

 

ONE!

 

Taiga goes to whip Dragon into the ring post... but he reverses, sending her crashing into the barricade! The crowd sitting in that section stands up and pops loudly.

 

TWO!

 

Dragon picks up Taiga with a fireman's carry, and brings her down across his knees! Taiga drops to the floor in a heap, clutching her chest now that the wind has been knocked out of her.

 

THREE!

 

Taiga stands up, turns around, and sees Triple D coming right for her with a lariat, but Taiga ducks and trips him... where he meets the ring post face first!

 

FOUR!

 

 

 

"We all know how dangerous The Princess of Hardcore can be on the outside."

 

"Yes, but this is no hardcore match Mak. She's going to have to be careful about using weapons, she could be disqualified. Actually... I hope she uses a weapon."

 

 

 

FIVE!

 

Taiga is up, clutching her chest. She picks up Dragon by the tassels, stands him against the ring's edge, and pushes him into it, bending his spine back in the process. She then lays in several brutal chops.

 

SIX!

 

Taiga is surprised to have Dragon lay in some stiff chops of his own in return.

 

SEVEN!

 

Taiga kicks Dragon across the midsection a few times, sending his back into the edge again, before sliding into the ring.

 

EIGHT!

 

Taiga waits patiently for Triple D to get back up.

 

NINE!

 

Dragon clutches his back, rubbing out the sore spot, then climbs up on the ring apron.

 

TEN!

 

Taiga runs for Dragon, wanting to knock him back off the apron. But Dragon moves aside. Taiga almost runs herself out of the ring, but is stopped by a brutal kick to the face, busting her nose open! With Taiga hanging over the middle rope, blowing blood onto the floor, Dragon flips into the ring... runs across... rebounds... and lands a beautiful dropkick on her. Taiga gets tangled in the ropes and almost falls out of the ring, but manages to grab onto the bottom rope to save herself. Dragon grabs her leg and drags her into the middle of the ring, where he pins her.

 

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

 

Taiga kicks out. Dragon gets up and starts the Strong Style Shuffle, making the hand signs and following it up with a horizontal lariat! The crowd pops! He hooks the leg.

 

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

 

Taiga with the shoulder up. Dragon picks her up, throws her over his shoulders, and spins her 'round and 'round with a Speed Modifier! Some blood gets flinged onto the ref by the centrifugal force, he makes a disgusted expression as he tries to wipe it off (without much success). When Triple D gets Taiga sufficiently dizzy, she tosses her onto the mat. Then he drags her over to a corner, leaps up gracefully, and lands an Excellent!!~ top rope backsplash senton! He hooks a leg.

 

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

 

...Taiga gets a foot on the ropes. Dragon expresses his anger with an angry dance. He picks up Taiga and tosses her to the ropes. On the rebound, he ducks, preparing to throw her backward... but Taiga instead runs at him full force with a Yakuza kick that sends him inside-out!

 

 

 

"That stopped Triple D's momentum pretty quick." Mak points out.

 

 

 

Taiga takes advantage of him being on the mat by working over his leg. She starts with a couple of Knee-D-Ts, then she locks in a simple leglock. The referee asks if he wants to give up and Dragon shakes his head in reply. Turning him over, Taiga locks in a half crab. Dragon wiggles and grooves, slithers and moves to the ropes, eventually reaching them. When the ref counts, Taiga releases on the three.

 

Dragon gets up and shakes out his leg a little before Taiga grabs at it and drags him into the middle of the ring. She locks up his legs... his wiggly, squirmy legs... locks them... okay, she can't seem to get a lock on them.

 

 

 

"All those years of dancing seems to have finally paid off here." King states.

 

"What do you mean, 'finally'? Taiga just can't keep up with him!"

 

 

 

Taiga is still struggling to get a lock on his legs, and tries until he gets to the ropes. She lets go in frustration. Taiga picks him up, leans him against the ropes, and chops him hard. She then swings him to the corner, where she follows in with some shoulder tackles. She gets Dragon out of the corner with a bulldog. She grabs the legs again... and manages to get the lock on!

 

Dragon stretches for the ropes, but they are too far away. Taiga looks down at him smugly, blood still dripping from her nose, "Awww, are the ropes too far away?", and this garners a chorus of boos from the crowd. Smiling, Taiga reaches down for DDD's arms. He has them clenched tightly around his head, and Taiga can't get a grip. She back chops him several times, making him release his arms as he cries out. She grabs one but is unable to grab the other. That's okay though, she just pulls at the one arm, placing her free foot onto the shoulder as she cranks away.

 

Desperately, Dragon is clawing for the bottom rope with his other hand. Eventually he does get to it, after several excruciating moments. Taiga unlocks the legs and waits patiently for the Masked one to get himself back up. Taiga charges at him... but he picks her up over his shoulders. He makes it to the middle of the ring (albeit with one wobbly leg) and deposits her with a death valley driver. He follows this up with a Dance... Dance... DDT!! The crowd cheers for him.

 

Seeing that Taiga is in the exact centre of the ring, Triple D gets all fired up. He makes the signal that makes the crowd POP~!! He goes to the left... he goes to the right... he does some DDR moves... he gets himself into place... The crowd is out of control as he goes to land the DDR Elbow!!!

 

...But with all the grooving and shaking, Taiga saw the move coming from the proverbial mile away. She rolls out of the way and Dragon elbows nothing but net! Taiga is right on him, landing the rolling Germans, three suplexes in a row, topped off by a powerbomb! Taiga rolls him up...

 

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

 

...DDD kicks out. Taiga pulls him into the middle of the mat, where she locks the legs again. And again, Dragon locks up his hands so that Taiga cannot get them pulled back. Taiga uses her free foot on the back of his mask, mashing his face into the canvas, which the ref admonishes. She feigns apology, then grabs herself a handful of tassels, accidentally pulling one out. She drops it and pulls back on the remaining ones, getting his head back and her fingers laced around in a chinlock! He screams out, with his legs locked and his spine bent back. Referee Warner asks if he wants to give up, and he waves his hands no. Taiga yells at him to give up already, but he keeps refusing.

 

Taiga releases the chinlock, sending DDD flying forward where his face slams against the mat. She grabs some tassel again, and this time, uses the ends to wipe some blood off her face where it almost stopped dripping from her nose. The crowd boos her again.

 

 

 

"Taiga's not making very many friends here tonight, is she King?"

 

Suicide King looks at Mak. "They're just all realizing what I realized when she joined us here at the SWF... She's not this force she builds herself up to be."

 

 

 

Taiga notices the lone tassel she accidentally pulled out minutes ago. She winds it around her hands, and uses it to choke Dragon out! He tries to get away, but she has the legs firmly locked. Referee Warner warns Taiga, makes the count... and she releases at four and a half. So she... goes back to the choke! She has the tassel around his neck tightly, and when the ref counts, she releases on the four and a half count. When the ref yells at her, she yells back, "I HAVE UNTIL FIVE~!" Triple D cries out. The ref asks him if he wants to give up. His hand hovers over the mat.

 

 

 

"DON'T TAP OUT! DON'T TAP OUT! DON'T TAP OUT!!" yells the crowd.

 

 

 

Taiga gets a hold of Dragon's arms and manages to pull them back. Dragon screams out more, shaking his head no the whole time. Taiga yells at him to give up already. Angry, she puts her free foot on the back of his head and shoves it down with a curb stomp!! Dragon goes limp. Taiga jumps a few times, Dragon crying out each time his knee is banged onto the mat. Finally she unlocks the legs. Dragon grabs his knee, rolling around on the mat. Taiga pins him with an inside cradle.

 

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

TH...

 

 

Dragon kicks out, much to the delight of the fans. Taiga picks him up and drops him in his head with a classic piledriver!! She pins him with a crucifix.

 

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

THR...

 

 

DDD manages to wiggle out of it. Taiga pulls him back into the centre, grabs his legs... and locks on... the figure four leglock WOOOOOOOO!! Dragon grabs at his face in agony. Referee Warner asks him if he wants to give up. Dragon replies by grabbing him by the shirt and shrieking in his face. Taiga uses her arms to lift herself up, cranking it in harder. Dragon lets go of the ref and grabs his legs. Taiga swats his hands away. Dragon lays down and the ref counts the pin, but Dragon is back up quickly.

 

Dragon lays back on the mat, and the ref counts to one again. Dragon rolls one shoulder up... then rolls the other one up... and keeps rocking back and forth like so, attempting to turn the hold over. Taiga shakes her head violently and tells him to stop. With one mighty shout, The Masked Dance Assassin turns the whole thing around!!

 

 

 

King smiles. "That's really turning the tables on your opponent!"

 

Mak just groans.

 

 

 

Now it's Taiga's turn to scream. Which she does. Loudly. Dragon uses it for all it's worth, cranking away like the match was on the line... Yeah. The referee asks Taiga if she wants to give up, and she says no. Taiga begins to rock, trying to reverse the reverse. She reverses the hold... right into the bottom rope. The referee counts to four and a half... Taiga waves her arms around, asking the ref to please unlock them, as their legs are tangled up pretty good.

 

When the referee finally frees their legs, they both continue to cling to the bottom rope, scooting backward away from each other. They both take a bit of time to work out sore legs and whatnot. The crowd starts the clap, building up a slow rhythm, stirring the competitors.

 

Both Taiga Star and Dance Dance Dragon get to their feet and meet in the centre of the ring. Taiga slaps him across the mask.

 

 

 

"Jeez," says King, in a stage whisper, "she's awfully bitchy tonight."

 

 

 

Dragon looks at her, almost defiant in his stance. So Taiga slaps him again, with her other hand, across the other side of his mask. Triple D stares her down (or we are assuming he is, with his eyes being covered with a mask like so). Taiga lays in some forearms... and Dragon doesn't move! Taiga runs off the ropes with a shoulder tackle... and Dragon barely budges! She does it again... and gets the same results!

 

 

"DRAGON! DRAGON! DRAGON!"

 

 

The Dancing One flexes his muscles. Taiga is somewhat confused at the sudden burst of energy. Dragon points at her with the SERIOUS FINGER OF DOOM!

 

 

 

"YOU!!!!" the crowd shouts in unison.

 

 

 

Dragon elbows her in the head a couple times, then pulls out a Dance... Dance... DDT!! The crowd pops!! He jumps on her with a standing splash! He holds his leg, really feeling the effects of the punishment earlier... then lands on her with a standing back senton! He hooks both her legs.

 

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

T...

 

 

Taiga kicks out. Dragon lands just one well-placed fistdrop, right on Taiga's injured face. Taiga grabs it and screams, blood filling her mouth. He then picks her up and sets her up for a Newbie Killer. He has her on his back and her feet in the air... but she kicks her legs forward and rolls herself out of it. She spins The Dragon... and hits him in the mask with a red mist of blood!!

 

 

 

Suicide King gags. "Now, that's just unnecessary."

 

"Well, what would you want to do with a mouth full of blood? I think it was smart of her to use that to her advantage."

 

"Mak, when did you begin to root for the heels?"

 

"Shhh," Mak whispers, "we're not supposed to say those sort of things on-air."

 

 

 

Taiga kicks Dragon in the leg, and he quickly collapses. She picks him up by the leg and wraps the leg around her shoulders in a muffler stretch! Dragon flails his arms around, screaming and shaking his head no. He goes limp, and Taiga bounces him a few times, getting him to cry out again. Then she begins to spin... around and around...

 

 

 

"See, King, Taiga has her spinning moves too."

 

 

 

She spins and spins and then tosses Dragon across the ring by his leg. Referee Warner goes to him, checking the condition of his leg. Taiga comes over and pulls Dragon into the ring, and snaps his leg down a few times. The she turns him over, locks one of his legs around the other, pulls her hands though, and has him in the Texas Cloverleaf!

 

Dragon grabs the mat and shakes his head no. He screams out and reaches for the ropes. Even though they are only a few inches from him, they seem miles away. Dragon pulls on the mat, gathering great handfuls of the canvas to pull himself forward, screaming the whole time and refusing to give up. He can almost reach it... he brushes it with his fingertips! He pulls himself forward that one last inch...

 

Taiga drags him back to the middle of the ring!! The crowd goes apeshit, a chant encouraging DDD not to tap out is all but drowned out by people cheering and yelling, jumping out of their seats! Taiga is screaming along with Dragon, blood dripping through her teeth and down her chin. Dragon is desperately fighting the tap, his hand hovering over the mat. Taiga sits down on it further, making him screaming out even louder...

 

 

DANCE DANCE DRAGON TAPS!!!

 

 

*DING! DING! DING!*

 

 

Funyon makes the announcement. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the match... TAAAIGAA STAAARR!"

 

 

Taiga releases the hold. The crowd is split between cheering and booing. Referee Warner raises her hand, and the crowd gives a louder, but still mixed, pop. The referee goes to Dragon, checking on him. He is pushed away however, as Dragon is clutching his knee in the fetal position.

 

Taiga walks over and gently motions the ref aside, and kneels down to Dragon. He pushes her away at first, but she's stubborn, and helps him up off the mat. She pats the side of his head, wipes some of the blood off his mask, and asks him if he is alright. He nods, ever so slightly, and points to his knee. Taiga raises his arm, and the crowd pops!

 

 

 

"SWF! SWF! SWF!"

 

 

 

Taiga lets him go and points to him, smiling. She makes a little dance followed by a thumbs up, and DDD gives her a thumbs up in return. Taiga drops down and rolls out of the ring and carefully makes her way to the back.

 

 

 

"That was a good display of sportsmanship from Taiga Star there, especially after the beating she layed in on him." Mak said with a smile.

 

King doesn't seem to know what to say. "I'm surprised that she won."

[Toxxic 0]

“I keep checking out that aerial shot of the arena we’re in. It’s stunning architecture, huh, Mak?” King says as the cameras focus on the announcers.

 

“It’s quite beautiful, King, but there are bigger fish to fry tonight,” King says.

 

“It looks like they just tried to rebuild the Epcot ball, but didn’t have enough money to cover the whole frame,” Mak says.

 

“I thought you were being genuine. Will you focus? We’re well into a very solid show, and we’ve still got three big matches to go. Later tonight we will know for sure who is next in line for shots at the Tag Team and World Championships.”

 

“Next In Line really is living up to its name…”

 

The intro to ACDC’s “Thunderstruck” emanates from the loudspeakers and another camera pans the arena to witness the crowd getting to its feet. When “Thunder!” is chanted, spotlights stop at random points, and the illuminated portion of audience pumps their fists in the air and chants.

 

“But first, a young man trying to make a name for himself needs to bring his full arsenal to the ring,” Mak says as Luke Breslin emerges onto the stage, pumped full of energy. He darts back and forth on his way down the ramp, high-fiving fans before sliding into the ring.

 

“La lucha siguiente es programada para una caída. Introducción primero, pesando 255 libras, de Philadelphia… LUUUUKE BREEEEESSSLIIIIIIN!” Funyon belts.

 

“So far, Luke has defeated a fluke of a competitor in the cheesy Chance Silver and tag team specialist TORU Takahara. Beating a self-proclaimed lunatic Messiah and a man out of his element is nothing special,” King says. “This kid better be on his toes.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure he is. It’s in the Breslin blood,” Mak says as Luke hops down from the turnbuckle he stood on to recognize the fans.

 

“Yeah, these Breslins sure are shaking things up,” King says. “Luke’s older brother and former wrestler Leo Breslin is scheduled to rejoin the company at the next show.”

 

“All he needs to do is show up and sign the papers provided. He’ll be doing a lot of thinking, I’m sure.”

 

“God is God” by Juno Reactor changes the crowd’s mood from jovial to malicious. Heavy boos filter down from even the back row of seats as smoke envelops the stage and strobes and spotlights complete the arena’s new feeling of despondency and gloom.

 

“Y su opositor, pesando 229 libras, de Denver… MAAAAAAAAAANNSOOOONNNN!!” Funyon bellows before stepping out of the squared circle just in time for MANSON to slide in under the ropes and retire to his corner.

 

“Hey, King, if you’re going to preach about self-proclaimed Messiahs being whacked out, how ‘bout performing a case study on our buddy MANSON here? Instant disqualification by your standards, huh?”

 

“Hey, Mak, how about you do your research and realize that MANSON is a veteran of nearly seven years who has been around more blocks, and consequently on more corners than your mother, and therefore is going to bring a whole lot more of a challenge than some quirky queer named Chance Silver?”

 

“Well, I uhh—”

 

“Owned.”

 

MANSON’s hood and mask have been removed and placed hung over the top rope ritualistically. Down to his wrestling attire, MANSON turns and leans against his corner, staring intently across the ring at Luke. The younger wrestler stands a few feet from his corner, staying on his toes, hopping back and forth with enthusiasm.

 

*ding ding ding*

 

“The bell’s sounded and this match is underway,” Mak announces. “Referee Sexton Hardcastle is calling for the two men to meet in the center of the ring.”

 

“MANSON looks to be getting in the position of a bull ready to charge.”

 

“And Luke is always ready to move, so—they charging! MANSON ducks a clothesline, both men spin and—MANSON with a spinning backhand right to Luke’s face!”

 

“Damn, one hell of a shot to start. He’s stumbling already.”

 

MANSON’s first strike sends Luke reeling away from his opponent. MANSON catches up to him from behind and locks his hands around Luke’s waist before lifting him up and over with a German suplex that sends Luke crashing onto the mat.

 

“MANSON’s suplex jarred him, but he’s getting back to his feet,” Mak says. “MANSON meets him… Irish whip…”

 

“Yakuza kick! MANSON takes Breslin down with authority this time, and the kid stays on his back. Pretty smart…”

 

“MANSON’s helping him to his feet.”

 

MANSON hoists Luke over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. After centering himself in the ring, MANSON lifts Luke up and over his head, dropping him down onto the knee jutted out. Luke’s gut lands on the knee, and he falls off the leg and onto the mat, rolling around in pain and searching for the air knocked out of him. MANSON walks in a circle around the downed Breslin. Upon getting to his knees, Luke is pulled up the rest of the way under his armpits and shoved into a corner.

 

“Luke’s in the corner,” Mak begins. “And MANSON backs up… running start… up with the knee and… Luke drops down!”

 

“MANSON’s body flies into that turnbuckle,” King picks up. “Luckily he finds his feet, but he’s stumbling. And Luke’s crawling away from the corner and trying to find his feet. Here comes MANSON, and… Luke with a European uppercut that puts MANSON on his back!”

 

MANSON is quick to his feet. Luke catches him with a boot to the gut and wraps an arm around MANSON’s neck before quickly falling backwards with a snap DDT. MANSON rolls through it and ends up on his back with his head near Luke’s. The youngster sits up and finds MANSON, pulling him up on his way. Luke sends MANSON into the corner with a whip.

 

“Luke…” Mak begins. “In with a spear! MANSON get’s folded up between those turnbuckles.”

 

Luke backs away and MANSON crumbles out of the corner. Luke mounts the middle ropes and begins pounding away with punches. “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE!”

 

“Winding up for ten,” Mak says as the crowd deflates.

 

“Interrupted! Headbutt to the cajones!” King says. “You know, one skull to the testicles is eternally more embarrassing and painful than nine punches to the head.”

 

“Well, Luke didn’t get that last punch in, to say the least. He’s, and he’s favoring his boys.”

 

Hardly disoriented after the punches, MANSON rushes out of the corner and takes Luke down with a clothesline. Luke gets to his feet, still favoring the painful tinge in his crotch. MANSON delivers a boot to Luke’s gut and hooks his arms above his back before falling backwards himself. The double-arm DDT sends Luke’s face smashing into the canvas, and MANSON is quick to roll him over and apply a pin.

 

“Pinning attempt here…” Mak says. “Two, th—Luke kicks out.”

 

“No rest for the weary. MANSON’s got him up… drapes Luke’s arm over his shoulder… and… Uranage suplex! Seamless!”

 

“Quick and deliberate. Luke’s brought up again. Arm draped a second time and… gargoyle suplex! Flawless, again.”

 

“Luke is… not responding. And MANSON’s bringing him up for more!”

 

Luke is once again kept on his feet when his arm is placed over MANSON’s shoulder. MANSON lifts him quicker this time, up and over, tossing Luke a few feet with an exploder suplex. MANSON lays his body haphazardly over Luke’s, and Sexton Hardcastle drops to the mat. ONE! TWO! THR—Luke gets a shoulder up. MANSON hurriedly covers Luke again, this time hooking a leg and putting more weight on him. ONE! TWO! TH—Luke kicks out again to the elation of the crowd.

 

“MANSON is…” Mak starts. “He’s going for a third pin attempt. Wait a minute! His legs are on the ropes! That’s unfair leverage!”

 

“YES—DAMNIT!” King yells as Luke kicks out at the last moment.

 

“A suplex taste testing of sorts followed by a similar pinning trio. And Luke had enough in him to get through it all.”

 

“Suck his balls already. MANSON’s pissed.”

 

“Well, he was probably expecting to win after cheating. Too bad.”

 

MANSON pulls Luke to his feet again and grabs a handful of hair at the back of Luke’s head. Luke is pulled backwards, staring at the rafters. The burning sword that zips down into Luke’s face plants him on his back. MANSON lets out a heavy grunt of approval as he falls atop his motionless opponent.

 

“Beautiful. Big impact, smart pin…” King says. “THREE! What? What’re you doing, Sexton!?”

 

“His arm’s on the bottom rope!” Mak announces as the crowd lets out a collective cheer. “MANSON probably should have moved to the middle of the ring before delivering that burning sword.”

 

“Shut up, Mak. He’s in complete control. In case you haven’t noticed, Luke still hasn’t moved another inch.”

 

MANSON gets to his feet and paces the ring, watching Luke as he struggles to all fours and begins grabbing the ropes to help him to his feet. MANSON approaches and whips Luke across the ring. A clothesline sends Luke to the mat again. MANSON circles around, watching, void of emotion. MANSON backs against the ropes before taking a few steps towards Luke and quickly winding himself for a flashing elbow. Luke rolls out of the way and MANSON hits his arm hard against the mat.

 

“Smart presence there from Luke,” Mak says.

 

“Oh, Christ. MANSON hits the mat once, and you’re still up Breslin’s ass.”

 

“Well, MANSON is back to his feet already. I guess—”

 

“I guess he’s still dominating Luke. And he’s pissed again. This guy is either completely lacking emotion or just straight fuming at Luke. I love it.”

 

MANSON approaches Luke again, but is tripped up when Luke slithers around on the mat and takes MANSON down with a drop toe hold. Luke continues to move fluidly, applying a single-legged crab on the same leg. Luke pulls up on the leg with all his might, but MANSON refuses to show much pain as he struggles to escape.

 

“This is a good opportunity for Luke to take a break,” Mak says.

 

“You call this a break? He’s using all his energy to keep MANSON in one place,” King argues. “Well, I guess anything other than getting his ass kicked can be considered a break for Luke.”

 

“I’m thinking Luke is pretty spent. His hold doesn’t look to be too effective. MANSON is nearing the ropes pretty quickly.”

 

“He’s just wasting his time. He might-as-well get mounted for three seconds and call it quits. Sound familiar, Mak?”

 

MANSON reaches the ropes, but only after expending enough energy to allow Luke a breather. He finds the ropes and watches MANSON get to his feet. The refreshed Breslin meets MANSON once he stands erect and whips him into the ropes. He returns and Luke lifts him off his feet, holding him under an arm and spinning before dropping onto his side, slamming MANSON onto the mat.

 

“A textbook side slam from Luke,” Mak says. “Going for a cover. One.. Tw—”

 

“Yeah, right. Luke’s an idiot.”

 

Luke bounces off the ropes and jumps, dropping a knee into MANSON’s sternum on the descent. He grabs MANSON by the hair and pulls him up, whipping him again. MANSON ducks a clothesline and stops, turning immediately while Luke runs into another set of ropes. He rushes towards MANSON, who holds his ground and lifts Luke into the air before sitting himself down and smashing Luke with a sit-down spinebuster.

 

“ROCKYYYY MOUNTAIN HIGH!” King exclaims. “And MANSON folds him up for the pin. ONE! TWO! TH—NO!”

 

“Luke gets out of another predicament. Unfortunately, he lost any momentum he had.”

 

MANSON lets out another grunt as he stands, also bringing Luke along. MANSON finds the center of the ring and bends Luke over, placing his head between the legs. An initial hoist fails as Luke manages to stay grounded. MANSON tries a second time but Luke uses his leg strength to stand himself up, holding onto MANSON’s thighs to keep him dangling behind Luke.

 

“Luke’s got MANSON in a bad place here,” Mak says. “Alabama slam! That was a SLAP landing!”

 

“MANSON is favoring his back after that slam,” King says as Luke stands above his opponent.

 

“Luke jumps… down with a fist to MANSON’s head!”

 

“I’m sure MANSON is seeing double now.”

 

Luke pulls MANSON to his feet, quickly lifting him off the ground and carrying him to a corner. MANSON is placed precariously in a tree of woe, and Luke hurries to the opposite corner. He takes off across the ring and rams a knee into MANSON’s exposed midsection. Luke holds him in place, not allowing MANSON to fall in a heap.

 

“Luke’s lifting him up from the tree of woe and… sitting him on the top turnbuckle,” King says.

 

“Into a crucifix position… Luke’s pulling MANSON off the turnbuckle and carrying him to the center of the ring.”

 

“Very Christ-like. MANSON might be enjoying this.”

 

“Well, I doubt he’ll enjoy… THAT! Crucifix powerbomb! And Luke stays in position… legs over MANSON’s arms. ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! MANSON gets out!”

 

Luke stays seated for a few seconds before getting to his feet and heading to a corner. He climbs the turnbuckles and turns, keeping his balance. Perched above the ring, eyes focused, Luke takes flight. His flying headbutt fails to connect as MANSON slides out of his range. Luke’s near-faceplant has him writhing on pain on the canvas as MANSON climbs to his feet to capitalize.

 

“Luke went for a risky maneuver, and it just might give MANSON the opening he needs to seal this match,” Mak says.

 

“MANSON’s moving towards him… nice knee drop to keep him down.”

 

“This crowd is strongly behind Luke, but as MANSON pulls him to his feet, things aren’t looking too good.”

 

Luke struggles to stay up while MANSON takes a step or two away from his swaying opponent. MANSON poises himself before putting his weight on one leg and lifting the other high into the air, spinning it and nailing Luke in the temple with a roundhouse kick. Luke falls to the ground with a thud, and MANSON wastes no time in finding a turnbuckle and climbing atop it.

 

“It’s MANSON’s turn to fly,” Mak says.

 

“He’ll probably connect, unlike someone…”

 

“Big air… BIG savage elbow! He stays on top. ONE! TWO! THREE!”

 

“What the—”

 

“Luke got his shoulder up! The crowd’s ecstatic!”

 

“Oh, MANSON will see to it that such elation does not last.”

 

MANSON immediately climbs to his feet, pulling Luke up with him and pushing him into the ropes. Luke finds himself leaning heavily against them, unable to stand without the somewhat stable ropes to fall onto. MANSON looks to either side of him at members of the audience, a snide grin emerging on his face as he lifts an arm in the air and whips Luke across the ring.

 

“This can’t end pretty and… MANSON with the wind up…” Mak starts. “Luke ducks the Iron Cutting Sword and… MANSON still following through… Luke comes back with a bulldog!”

 

“Both men coming back to their feet now, Luke still a bit slower and… MANSON’s coming again!”

 

“Spinebuster from Luke!”

 

“Why’s the crowd booing? Their little Breslin just got a—ooooh, that’s why…”

 

“What in the HELL are Chris Card and Natasha coming down the ramp for?”

 

Luke is just about to drape his body over MANSON for a pin attempt when Card and Natasha make it to ringside. Card pulls himself onto the apron and Natasha watches in content. Luke passes on the pin and gets to his feet, sharing some words with Card as the referee steps between them to ensure there is no escalation in the tension. Hardcastle fails miserably as Luke steps closer to Card, face-to-face with him as the harsh words continue.

 

“They have no place at ringside, and Luke is right to stand up to these deviants, because—”

 

“They have every right. Luke’s snooty brother stuck his nose where it didn’t belong, and now this brat’s about to pay the price because—MANSON rolls up Luke! Small package! ONE! TWO! TH—”

 

“Luke is out! But Card nearly did the trick.”

 

MANSON gets to his feet and takes part in a stare down with Card. It only lasts about ten seconds as Card kindly drops back onto the mat surrounding the ring. Once he falls away, MANSON turns around to receive a swift kick to the gut from Luke.

 

“Thunderstruck!” Mak screams. “NO! MANSON shoves him away, into the ropes! Luke’s stumbling backwards and… a sleeper!”

 

“MANSON with a textbook move at a perfect time in this match. Luke is flustered by the appearance of Card and Natasha, already weakened by a physical match thus far…”

 

“This is smart, I must admit. Luke was very close to catching MANSON off guard with his high impact finisher, so now he’s taking the time to slow Luke down in the most basic of ways and reset the pace of the match to meet his preferences.”

 

Luke is on his feet, his arms zipping in front of him and on either side, trying to find a grip on MANSON or get a shot in somewhere. But MANSON is able to control Luke so well in the hold that the flailing only serves to further weaken Luke until he is slowly brought to his knees. MANSON and Luke are facing Natasha and Card, who stand a few feet from the ring at the very foot of the ramp. The screen at the top of the stage suddenly changes from the wrestling to Leo Breslin walking calmly down a corridor through the arena.

 

“This is odd,” Mak says.

 

“All signs point to Leo, well, signing a contract at our next show. But he’s not on the payroll yet, so I have no idea why we’re seeing him.”

 

“I’m sure Leo feels terrible that he can’t help his younger brother, at least mentally, against the fishy games of Card and Natasha.”

 

“One thing’s for sure, Luke is watching that screen as his eyes begin glazing over and… uh-oh. Wrong turn, Leo…”

 

The audience watches Leo turn a corner and find TORU Takahara. TORU stares at him with fiery eyes that stop Leo dead in his tracks. The crowd lets out another chorus of boos to match the ones being given to MANSON in the ring.

 

“This… just got dangerous.”

 

“And by dangerous, you mean interesting and awesome. Leo is… getting a little groggy there. Sexton is stepping in, checking on him… he might be out soon.”

 

“The older Breslin is staring right back at TORU, not intimidated at all, and—what in the hell?! NO! KOJI just took out Leo from behind with a steel pipe to the knee!”

 

“That was vicious!”

 

“And by vicious, you mean over-the-line and unprovoked. Luke just witnessed that! He shot to life! Just as Sexton was about to lift Luke’s arm for the first time, Luke was revived by what he witnessed happening backstage. He’s on his knees now!”

 

Luke’s newfound fire is enough to bring him back to his feet, but MANSON’s hold is solid enough to remain. Chris Card hops back onto the apron and points at the big screen. KOJI and TORU are taking turns stomping Leo all over his body, the most common joint being the same knee that was hit with the pipe.

 

“Look what you did now!” the camera is able to pick up Card yelling at Luke. “Your brother won’t be able to WALK to the ring to sign his contract, and it’s your damn fault! You’re both a part of this now, by your doing. You bit off more than you can chew and—”

 

Luke’s legs leap off the mat. Using MANSON’s weight and steady footing as leverage behind him, Luke is able to perform an assisted dropkick that sends Card flying off the apron and onto the mat, rolling onto the ramp. The spring from the dropkick pushes Luke back enough to disorient MANSON. He loses his foothold and falls backwards, his body hitting Sexton Hardcastle and sending the referee to the mat. The sleeper hold is broken and Luke rolls off MANSON.

 

“Luke is leaving the ring,” King says.

 

“I’d imagine he’s heading to the back to assist his helpless brother. Are you kidding me here? Natasha has taken the position of a goalie and is trying to block Luke.”

 

“Well, it’s stopped him halfway up the ramp and—”

 

“Luke, look out! NO! Card just walloped Luke with a steel chair to the back! How is Card not drowning in these boos? And KOJI and TORU are bringing Leo to his feet. The poor man can’t even stand on that knee now…”

 

“Our referee is still shaken. Hardcastle is getting to his feet, but hardly paying attention to the action on the ramp.”

 

Card’s chair shot puts Luke on the ramp. He rolls onto his back and Natasha walks around him, placing herself between his legs before lifting her leg up and smashing a high-heeled foot into his testicles. Breslin tries rolling away from the two, but Card is quick to bring him to his feet and practically carry him back to the ring. Card tosses him under the bottom rope. MANSON is on his feet and has no trouble falling on top of the wasted Breslin. Hardcastle resumes his duties.

 

ONE! TWO! THREE!

 

“He’s out!! Luke just kicked out! Card and Natasha are in disbelief!” Mak yells. “The crowd explodes again! He’s still got a shot!”

 

“But his brother is in worse shape… with a busted knee… with no referees or assistance… against KOJI and TORU… who are about to… let’s see…”

 

“A double roundhouse kick! I feel like Leo was already falling on his own accord, much less to be sandwiched by roundhouse kicks from these two. Luke suffered the same fate last week before Leo rescued him.”

 

“And I think Leo is about to receive what Luke would have received had his brother not interfered.”

 

“I can’t believe TKO has orchestrated a complete ruination of the Breslins here tonight.”

 

MANSON finds it easy still to bring the nearly unresponsive Luke to his feet in the ring. MANSON stands behind Luke and pulls him downward some, sticking his head under his arm and preparing the Instant Hell Murder. KOJI is on the screen holding Leo’s legs in the air while the older Breslin lies helpless on his back on the concrete. KOJI begins tying Leo’s legs up with his, slowly applying an inverted Texas cloverleaf. MANSON watches with intrigue as Leo screams in terrible pain and TORU walks around the submission, eventually stopping at Leo’s head. The crowd’s boos are deafening.

 

“They are torturing Leo, King,” Mak says. “Someone in SWF should be watching this and sending help! Does our cameraman have a heart?!”

 

“People in SWF… watching SWF? You must have forgotten about the massive, constant orgy that takes place backstage every show…”

 

“Now is not the time, King! This is an atrocity!”

 

TORU stares down at the writhing Breslin. MANSON watches with eager eyes, Luke still under his arm in a similarly helpless state. The Japanese Hammer grabs Leo’s hair and screams, “I AM TORU!” before delivering a brutal darkness stomp to the skull. The painful scream ends and KOJI releases his cloverleaf, letting Leo’s legs drop to the floor with a sickening flop. The two leave a silenced Leo in the corridor and the image on the screen returns to in-ring action. The booing still stretches for miles.

 

“I am… speechless,” Mak says. “Leo has been incapacitated and—”

 

“I thought you said you were speechless? Stick to your words, and watch MANSON flawlessly put down Luke for the three count with INSTANT HELL MURDER!”

 

MANSON is moments from hoisting Luke into the air when the young Breslin is able to pop a punch into MANSON’s midsection. Its impact is minor, but a second and third one are enough to allow Luke to wiggle his head out from under MANSON’s arm. Luke immediately drops down onto his ass and brings MANSON with him, slamming his face into Luke’s shoulder with a sudden Thunderstuck.

 

“MANSON’s been Thunderstruck! Out of nowhere! And the crowd is going nuts!”

 

“Not if Card and Natasha have anything to say about it! Natasha’s already creeping on the apron and Card is on his way!”

 

“Luke’s after them. Natasha’s off with a shove from Luke!”

 

“That’s a woman!”

 

“A woman who slammed her heel into his baby makers! Get ‘em, Luke!”

 

Card swings at Luke, but he ducks and sends his shoulder into Card’s midsection. Luke shoots back to his erect self with an explosive European uppercut that sends Card flying off the apron and landing on the mat feet from the ring. Luke turns and catches a charging MANSON with a boot to the stomach. MANSON doubles over and Luke shoves his head between his legs. The lift is difficult, but Luke is able to get Manson up onto his shoulders in a powerbomb position.

 

“Luke’s got the waist band… pulls them and MANSON up off his shoulders a bit and… sit-down powerbomb! That’s the Breslin Bomb, and it sure did make this crowd explode!”

 

“NO! Come on, MANSON!”

 

“Luke stays there with a pin!

 

“ONE!” the crowd yells in unison. “TWO! THREE!” Hardcastle gets to his feet and signals for the bell.

 

*ding ding ding*

 

“Y su ganador… LUUUUUUUUUKE BBBRRRREEEEEESSLIIIIIIN!” Funyon hardly announces over the crowd.

 

“I think I could even sense some satisfaction in Funyon’s voice after that family massacre,” Mak says. “But Luke still pulls out the win.”

 

Luke skips his usual celebratory period in the ring. He ignores the cheers of the crowd, gives the cold shoulder to fans who beg for high-fives on Luke’s way up the ramp. He reaches the top of the incline, passing the recovering Chris Card and Natasha on his way, only to be met by the emerging TORU and KOJI.

 

“Luke’s frozen!” King says.

 

“He just fought his ass off and is drained of energy, and now they’re going to assault him just like they did Leo.”

 

Luke only freezes for a few seconds before leaping at KOJI with a punch that he blocks. TORU finds an open weak spot in Luke’s leg, delivering a low kick that drops Luke to his knees. KOJI, standing right above and in front of Luke, sends a backhand to his face that puts Luke on all fours. TORU backs away from the two, but only for a brief time before charging full speed towards Luke.

 

“NO! Jouseishin! Oh my God, Luke is motionless,” Mak says. “TORU just drove his full force into Luke’s skull with that knee…”

 

“Card and Natasha have joined their partners on the stage. Card is telling them something, putting something together.”

 

TORU and KOJI each grab one of Luke’s legs. Natasha grabs Luke’s left arm, and Card the right. Together, TKO carries Luke towards the ring like a sacrificial creature. MANSON is back to his feet. He watches as TKO slides Luke under the bottom rope. The four climb into the ring behind Luke. Card approaches MANSON and informs him of the plan. It doesn’t take long for the Raging Bull to comply.

 

“MANSON is… bringing Luke to his feet,” Mak says. “I would say MANSON should know better, but that is completely false. This man’s mean streak is just as sickening as TKO has been tonight.”

 

MANSON once again prepares Luke for Instant Hell Murder. Luke’s head is under MANSON’s arm again, but his arms are limp and motionless, dangling under his torso instead of delivering sucker punches. MANSON lifts Luke up and slams him down.

 

“Instant Hell Murder!” King yells.

 

“WHY are you even calling this, King? This isn’t a match. This isn’t an attack. This is pure brutalization on the most inhumane and excessive level.”

 

“…But it’s a pretty sweet name for a finisher. Fun to scream…”

 

MANSON falls on top of Luke and lifts his dead leg. Sexton Hardcastle’s useless insistence that the assault ends now have him in a precarious position. Card yells at him to drop down and make a three count. His refusal provokes TORU and KOJI to move toward him, but Sexton drops down and rolls out of the ring to the safety of the outside. Natasha hurriedly does the same, but heads in a different direction towards the announcers’ table. Card drops to the mat as Natasha snatches the bell.

 

“What is this? Physical punishment wasn’t enough? Now TKO and MANSON have resorted to embarrassment? Unwarranted, undeserved, mock victories? Why?”

 

“To prove points, Mak. Are you new to this?”

 

Card slaps his hand against the mat three times. Natasha’s return to the ring is accompanied by the ringing of the bell, this time in a more incessant and irritating way. Card does a second three count, followed by a third, all the while accompanied by Natasha’s ringing. She approaches the fallen Luke and places the bell by his ear while she continues the painful ringing. The bell is dropped, MANSON and Card get to their feet, and the group leaves the ring. Sexton immediately enters and moves to Breslin’s side, checking his vitals and signaling for assistance. MANSON walks up the ramp and out of the arena, but TKO remains and watches Andrea Montgomery come to the ring with a small medical crew and other referees and officials.

 

“I’m physically sick, King.”

 

“Oh well. At least Leo learned his lesson. I’m sure he won’t be signing that contract next show.”

 

“We’ll have to see. I… I can’t imagine why he would. This is just… this isn’t what the SWF is about.”

 

“I’ve been entertained. And we’ve got two number one contenders’ matches coming up next. We’ll be right back, folks!”

 

“Ugh…” Mak sighs as the scene fades from Luke’s medical treatment.

[Toxxic 0]

"Ladies and gentlemen, the following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the Number One Contendership to the SWF Tag Team Titles!" Funyon booms. "Introducing first..."

 

A distinctly Spanish-sounding cover of 'Hotel California' starts up and the familiar masked (and hatted) figure of Dr. Pirata appears at the top of the entrance ramp, then starts running and rolling down to the ring. The hat miraculously stays on despite its wearer's antics and Pirata rolls under the ropes into the ring.

 

"...from CARACAS, VENEZUELA," Funyon declares, "he weighs in at 243lbs, this is DOCTORRRRRR... PIIIIIII-RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAA-TAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"

 

There are a few cheers from the crowd, but nothing particularly earth-shattering. Funyon looks around in vague surprise at the lack of hometown pop he was was expecting. Shrugging, the veteran ring announcer continues as 'Man In The Box' strikes up.

 

"And his tag team partner, from Easton, Pennsylvania... he weighs in tonight at 225lbs and is the SWF World Heavyweight Champion... he is YOUR Psychotic Hero, the INSAAAAAAAAANE... LUUUUUUUUUUUUCHADORRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!"

 

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

"Well, that's a good reception for the World Champion," Mak Francis remarks, "but not a great deal for his tag partner King. The hometown hero not so much of a hero, perhaps."

 

"Maybe he's not hometown," King snickers, "hell, I'd need more to cheer someone from Dayton than being told he was from there, especially if he was under a mask. I mean, where's your proof?"

 

"You wouldn't cheer anyone unless they were poking people in the eye or kicking them in the crotch," Mak complains.

 

"Very true. And?"

 

"And their opponents," Funyon states as Pirata and IL share a cautious nod in the ring while the lights go down and strobes start to flicker out across the audience, "from Saitama Prefecture and at a combined weight of 481lbs, being accompanied to the ring by Chris Card Enterprises, they are the team of TORU Takahara and KOJI Kitano... TEEEEEEEE! KAAAAYYYYY! OOOHHHHHHH!"

 

*BOOM!*

 

'TRIIIIIIIIIIBE! Why don't you strike, justify your mind!'

 

The trenchcoat-clad shapes of TKO start walking down the ramp with Chris Card and Natasha flanking them. Both men remove their coats and shades before leaping into the ring and flipping the double bird at their opponents.

 

"TKO have the advantage of teamwork experience," Mak notes, "but the Insane Luchador is on one hell of a roll, and Dr. Pirata is still something of an unknown quality. This has the potential to be a really interesting match!"

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

"And we're underway here," Mak Francis declares as Brian Warner calls for the bell, "it's time to see who will be facing VDN for the Tag Team Titles, and whether or not the Insane Luchador can continue this amazing winning streak he's been on."

 

"The fact he's been teamed with this masked clown won't do him any favours," King snorts, nodding at Dr. Pirata, "I'll give Luchador his due, he's been turning in good performances lately, but there's something just wrong about Pirata."

 

"He seems oddly familiar somehow," Mak declares, "and I've got to say King, I think that Pirata is likely to hold up his end of the deal."

 

The World Champion and TORU have started to circle each other, the usual expression of intense determination on Luchador's face while TORU looks disdainfully across the ring at him. The Japanese Hammer pauses to flex, emphasising the difference between his own bulky physique and Rickmen's more wiry frame, an action that intimidates the World Champion not at all. It does however annoy him enough to dart towards his opponent with a suddenness that catches TORU off his guard and start peppering the big Saitaman with rapid-fire elbows!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

TORU staggers backwards under the assault but manages to rally enough to shove Luchador violently away; the big man's power sends the World Champion tumbling head over heels, but Rickmen pops straight back up to his feet. TORU charges forward, apparently with the intention of delivering a running knee to the gut, but the Ill One dives down and to the side and reverses the big man's momentum into a schoolboy pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...but TORU kicks out once he gets over the surprise. The big man starts to rise but IL is back to a vertical base first and the World Champion launches himself into a rolling koppu kick that catches the Japanese Hammer on the top of the head as he tries to get up; TORU staggers, fighting for balance and then once more starting to get up, but by this time Rickmen has run to the ropes and accelerated off to deliver a flying forearm smash that takes TORU down to the mat!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

"Rickmen is using his speed here," Mak comments, "he doesn't want to get into a striking competition with TORU, but the mark of the new improved Insane Luchador is that he picks his fights, and he knows how to win them!"

 

The Ill One is pumped up at his early success and throws him arms into the air, prompting another roar from the crowd, before he lines up on the rising TORU. This time the World Champion delivers a stinging left kick to the leg, then a right kick to the other leg, then a left kick to the ribs...

 

...which TORU catches under one massive arm, then reaches out to rake Rickmen's eyes.

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

TORU releases his opponent's leg and grabs IL's head in both hands, then drags it down into a hard kneelift that staggers the World Champion; with Rickmen momentarily incapacitated Takahara grabs his wrist and Irish whips the smaller man to the TKO corner, then follows him in with a crushing kneelift to the ribs! The breath explodes from the Insane One's lungs, but TORU isn't satisfied and continues to deliver standing kneestrike after standing kneestrike to his opponent until Warner pulls him away and begins to remonstrate with him.Unfortunately this simply provides KOJI with an opportunity to wrap the tag rope around Rickmen's throat and pull back on it, throttling the World Champion as Dr. Pirata yells angrily from his corner and points, trying to get the referee's attention. Warner finally looks around... just as KOJI lets go and adopts the traditional 'hands up' posture of innocent fairness. The official isn't fooled for a moment, but he can't call what he didn't see.

 

What he can call is TORU extending his boot and attempting to crush Rickmen's windpipe with it quite openly in front of him.

 

'One!'

 

'Two!'

 

'Three!'

 

'Four!'

 

'Fi-'

 

TORU backs away, seemingly protesting that he didn't understand the English count - once more, Warner isn't fooled and remonstrates with the Japanese Hammer. TORU continues arguing and KOJI steps into the ring to add his voice to the discussion... which means Warner's view is blocked as Chris Card and Natasha grab a leg each of Andrew Rickmen, trip him forward, then yank him backwards crotch-first into the ring post as hard as they can.

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

"I share the opinion of the Venezuelan fans," The Franchise declares, "we're only a couple of minutes into this match and already TKO are showing their true colours."

 

"Francis, they're in there facing a man who has had an unbelievable resurgence in his career, a man who's been on an unprecedented unbeaten run, our World Champion," the Suicide King says with every ounce of sincerity he can, "I think it would be an insult to this match if they didn't do all they could to ensure it was competitive!"

 

As tough as Rickmen undoubtedly is, a lack of oxygen combined with testicular trauma is enough to keep him subdued as TKO cease their discussion with the official and KOJI steps out of the ring only to be tagged straight back in again. TORU pulls IL upright and the former tag team champions measure him for a second, then deliver sandwich roundhouse kicks to the head that sends the Ill One toppling backwards the canvas holding his skull. KOJI take the chance to attempt a pin...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...but the Insane Luchador kicks out! KOJI snaps something uncomplimentary at Warner and grabs IL by the head to bring him up off the canvas, then applies a front facelock and takes him back down again with a swinging neckbreaker before heading to the ring apron. From there he grabs hold of the top rope and slingshots himself in... but Rickmen rolls away and avoids the attempted guillotine legdrop, leaving Kitano to crash and burn! Darkness K tries to get back to his feet in time to maintain his advantage but the resilient World Champion has found enough gas to get there before him, then launch a spinning back kick that impacts on KOJI's chest and winds the Saitaman, leaving him open to the Ill One turning him around, applying a rear headlock and dropping into an inverted DDT. Rickmen decides to try his look and hooks the leg...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...but KOJI kicks out, much to the disappointment of the crowd. Rickmen doesn't let any disappointment he feels show, and instead of tagging in Dr. Pirata who has his hand out the World Champion gathers himself together and, with a rather disturbing grin starting to spread across his features, starts to drag KOJI up to his feet. This time the Ill One hooks KOJI up as if for a vertical suplex, but when he gets his opponent vertical the World Champion tenses, holds... and then drops into a brainbuster! Once more Rickmen goes for a cover...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...and once more KOJI kicks out, although now TORU is starting to look worried on the apron.

 

"The tide of this match has swung back towards the Insane Luchador," Mak comments, "that just shows you how tough this man is - he took all of TKO's dirty tactics, but the moment he caught a break he turned it into a complete comeback."

 

Rickmen pulls KOJI upright again, then launches a spinning backfist that catches Darkness K on the cheekbone and sends him staggering back into the ropes. The World Champion piles in after him, perhaps looking to send his opponent to the floor where his brawling background might come into play, but Kitano drops at the last moment and pulls the top rope down, sending the Insane Luchador on a solo trip to the outside!

 

"How's your comeback looking now?" King laughs as Rickmen lands heavily. However, the World Champion proves his toughness once again as he starts to get back to his feet almost immediately. Unfortunately he's been taken out of his game long enough for KOJI to put the next part of his plan into effect - namely, to run to the opposite ropes to build up momentum, then come hurtling back across the ring and fly over the top rope with a corkscrew tope into the Ill One!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

The Venezuelan crowd are none too impressed with Darkness K despite his acrobatic display, but not nearly as unimpressed as Dr. Pirata is. The hometown luchadore stares down at the tangle of bodies on the outside, then as KOJI starts to get back up to his feet Pirata steps into the ring, brushes past the protesting Warner and runs for the far ropes himself. He accelerates across the squared circle but instead of going over he elects to dive through the ropes, nailing KOJI in the head with an elbow suicida just as he reaches his feet!

 

"...YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

Despite the mixed response so far to Pirata this move gets a good reaction from the crowd, most of the SWF's customers being happy to see TKO smashed in the head. TORU has walked down to neutral corner at the end of the apron nearest the action and Warner hasn't noticed his departure due to being too busy shouting at all three men on the outside to get back into the ring. TORU starts to climb as Pirata and the Insane Luchador start to pull KOJI up...

 

...and KOJI dives desperately out of the way as TORU comes off the top buckle with a Shooting Star Press that wipes out both members of Clinical Insanity!

 

"...DIOS MIO! DIOS MIO! DIOS MIO!"

 

"I'll say!" Mak Francis splutters, "TORU Takahara just took out the Insane Luchador and Dr. Pirata with that!"

 

"But all's not well in the TKO camp, look!" King says, pointing. Sure enough, KOJI has (rather woozily) got back to his feet and shoves his larger partner, clearly angry that he nearly took the brunt of the move as well! TORU's eyes narrow and he seems on the verge of responding in kind until Chris Card hurries around the ring and starts speaking to both men in urgent and fluent Japanese. The tag partners subside a little and both of them grab Insane Luchador to roll him into the ring, KOJI following while TORU walks around the ring back towards his corner. KOJI starts to bring Rickmen up...

 

...and Rickmen grabs an inside cradle!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

-but KOJI kicks out at the last moment, desperation overcoming the surprise!

 

"So close! Looch nearly had him there!" Mak shouts. "You just can't write this man out, he played a little possum and nearly won the match!"

 

KOJI, perhaps spurred on by his partner's outraged shouts from the outside, tries to get back to his feet quickly; unfortunately Rickmen has once more beaten him to the punch, or in this case the clinch... and the knee.

 

*CRACK!*

 

*CRACK!*

 

*CRACK!*

 

*CRACK!*

 

The Insane Luchador fires off four hard strikes to his opponent's face, then grabs a front facelock and drops backwards to spike KOJI's head into the canvas with an Evenflow-style DDT. However the World Champion elects not to go for a pin, instead deciding that maybe he shouldn't try and win this match entirely on his own and rolling to his corner to tag in Dr. Pirata.

 

"A somewhat lukewarm reception for the hometown boy," Mak Francis comments as Pirata steps into the ring, "the Caracas crowd haven't warmed up to him. Maybe he hasn't wrestled much locally?"

 

"Yeah, I guess he steered clear of those well-known Venezuelan wrestling companies," King responds with what might possibly be a trace of sarcasm.

 

Regardless of Pirata's wrestling experience the masked man appears to be as at home in the squared circle tonight as he has since his debut, quickly bringing KOJI up and latching on a front facelock before underhooking one arm and bringing the Saitaman over with a half-hatch suplex. Pirata doesn't release his grip and rolls back to his feet towing Kitano behind him, then snaps backwards to hit his opponent with another. Darkness K still doesn't get to rest though, as Pirata brings him up once more and hooks him for a vertical suplex, but instead of taking him over the Venezuelan hoists KOJI upwards before walking forwards and dumping the smaller man stomach-first over the top rope. Brian Warner appeals to Pirata to let KOJI get off in his own time but the good doctor is having none of it; he ascends to the top rope, then jumps off to land a double stomp into the small of Kitano's back.

 

"He calls that move the Cuban Trade Lumbargo, I'm reliably informed," Mak Francis comments, "and an effective one it looks to be too. But I must say King, there is something remarkably familiar about this guy. Do we know who trained him?"

 

"No clue," King answers, "and I certainly can't be bothered to try and find out. He's a South American in a mask, what more do we need to know?"

 

Pirata makes a cover of Kitano which causes Brian Warner to drop to the mat and start counting...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...but KOJI kicks out! This evidently displeases Dr. Pirata who grabs a rear waistlock and drags KOJI to his feet. Darkness K waves his arms frantically in a futile attempt to grab onto something, but to no avail as Pirata heaves and sends the flailing former tag champion overhead with a Dangerous Venezuelan suplex... but KOJI manages to flip through and lands on his feet! Pirata seems to realise that something is wrong and tries to get back up off the mat to find out what, but he's too slow and as he turns KOJI runs towards him and dives over him, snaring Pirata's head as he does so and hitting the Shining Darkness necksnap. Kitano has no intention of giving his opponent time to recover, rolling Pirata onto his front and locking his opponent's legs in place around his, then reaching down and grabbing both of the Venezuelan's arms to stretch him back into a surfboard.

 

"I don't think this is going to end-" Mak begins.

 

*BANG!*

 

"-well," the Franchise finishes as KOJI stamps downwards on the back of Pirata's head to drive his face into the mat with the Darkness Stomp.

 

"That depends on your point of view," the Suicide King comments, "I think it ended pretty well for KOJI!"

 

Kitano clearly thinks so too, as he flips a double bird at the back of Pirata's head, then turns around to share the same gesture with the crowd. Unfortunately Dr. Pirata levers himself up off the mat with the clear body language of someone who is more pissed than hurt, and when KOJI turns around the Venezuelan pastes him with a hard elbow smash! KOJI staggers but comes back with a roundhouse kick to the head - unfortunately for the Saitaman this does little more than snap Pirata's head to the side and prompt him to fire back with another elbow that rocks KOJI some more. Kitano tries to shake the cobwebs off and delivers another blow, this time with his left leg (in case that helps). It doesn't much, as Pirata immediately hits back with another elbow that sends KOJI wobbling into the ropes. KOJI shakes his head, roars in anger and then launches into the attack again, firing two low kicks into Pirata's left leg, then a kick to the ribs, and then a roundhouse to the temple...

 

...and Pirata hits back with two elbows and a gamengiri that flattens KOJI!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

KOJI gets up, eyes glazed and clearly not quite with it; Pirata doesn't help matters by whirling on the spot and delivering a spinning elbow smash that nearly takes his face off! Then the good doctor grabs one of Kitano's legs and hauls him to the middle of the ring before twisting him over into a half-crab and standing on his head for good measure!

 

'Tap, Bastardo!' the Venezuelan yells as he cranks back on the hold. Brian Warner drops to the mat to check on KOJI, who's flailing around but not making any headway as he claws at the canvas. Luckily for him his tag team partner has leaped into action, and TORU steps through the ropes to run across the ring and deliver a devastating enzui-lariat to the oblivious Pirata - although he ceases to be oblivious as soon as he's nearly decapitated. TORU drags the masked man up to his feet and, ignoring Warner's protests, sends the Venezuelan into the ropes before bringing him up and driving him into the mat with an enormous slam spinebuster.

 

*WHAM!*

 

"No Through Road for Dr. Pirata," Mak Francis notes, "and Brian Warner is finally getting TORU to leave the ring..." but the referee's attention it taken by KOJI rolling Pirata onto his back and making a cover...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...but Pirata kicks out! TORU has just got to the outside when KOJI gets up to his feet (rather unsteadily) and tags him to bring him back in - the big man hoists Pirata up off the man in a gutwrench and holds him in an inverted Sidewalk Slam position, prompting Darkness K to grab the Venezuelan's head and drop down into an assisted implant DDT. Warner makes his point very clear and KOJI leaves with bad grace, but TORU isn't going to let the lack of a tag team partner stop him from dealing damage. With Pirata seemingly dazed from the abuse he's just taken he offers little resistance as TORU pumphandles him, underhooks one arm then brings the masked man up before dropping him on his head with the TORU Driver.

 

"This match is really going to be a test of Dr. Pirata's toughness," Mak says, "he's got not one but two opponent's beating on him, and you've got to think that the greater teamwork experience of TKO might give them the edge here. That, and the fact they cheat like bastards," the Franchise adds.

 

Meanwhile as Mak makes his very accurate statement TORU is already back up and moving, heading to the top rope. Once there he backflips off, getting a huge elevation before crashing down with the Air TORU Moonsault onto the luckless Pirata, driving the air from his opponent's lungs and prompting Warner to drop for another count...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...but Pirata kicks out again! TORU is angered by what he seems to view as a slow count and starts remonstrating with Warner in what might be Japanese or what might be heavily-accented English; of more concern to the referee is the realisation after a couple of seconds that TORU's arm is pressed down across Pirata's windpipe as he states his case.

 

'One!'

 

'Two!'

 

'Three!'

 

'Four!'

 

'Fi-'

 

TORU removes the pressure at the last moment and stands up to give Warner a piece of his mind about the relative speed of counts... unfortunately his foot happens to accidentally stray onto Pirata's throat...

 

'One!'

 

'Two!'

 

'Three!'

 

'Four!'

 

'Fi-'

 

TORU finally 'realises' his transgression and steps away from his downed opponent, ignoring Brian Warner's subsequent warnings with the ease of long practice. Instead the Japanese Hammer continues to protest innocence and ignorance of anything and everything up to and including the English language... and then Pirata reaches up and schoolboys the big man!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

"He's got the tights!" King yells.

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

"What?" Mak asks, clearly surprised.

 

 

 

 

TH-

-but TORU kicks out! As the big man rolls back up to his feet he's already (rather hypocritically) protesting to Brian Warner, who maintains he saw nothing amiss - but he does see it when Pirata reaches out and jabs his fingers into TORU's eyes! Warner's warning falls on deaf (or at least absent) ears as the good doctor turns to run to the ropes, rebounding off to nail his blinded opponent with a lariat...

 

...but TORU takes it, staggers a step back, steadies himself, and roars!

 

"This could go on for some time," King warns the viewers at home as Takahara makes a motion for Pirata to try again. The Venezuelan's expression is hidden from view but he doesn't seem happy, an assumption that is borne out as he rebounds off the ropes and hits the next blow extra hard, dropping TORU to the mat even though the big man had braced for impact. However, the Saitaman pops straight back up to his feet, yells, and hits the startled Pirata with a lariat of his own as soon as he turns around!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

What TORU wasn't expecting however was for Pirata to get straight back to his feet as well, then as the Japanese Hammer turns away from the section of the crowd he just flipped the bird to Pirata delivers a Yakuza kick that puts him to the mat and keeps him there!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

"Doctor Pirata showing what tough stuff he's made of here," Mak comments, "he's taken a pasting from TKO but he's still dishing it out!"

 

TORU has turned onto his front and is starting to try and push himself up; Dr. Pirata starts trying to help his bigger opponent, although not through entirely altruistic motives because as soon as Takahara is upright Pirata slips behind him, grabs a reverse waistlock and heaves to send the big man flying through the air with a Dangerous Venezuelan suplex! TORU lands hard on his head and neck, and Pirata scrambles over the mat after him to hook the leg and make the pin...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

-but KOJI breaks the pin up by grabbing Pirata's leg and pulling him off! The smaller member of TKO then leaves the ring again under the stern watch of Brian Warner, leaving Pirata disgruntled but unharmed. As a result the good doctor is able to bring the dazed TORU up to his feet before bending his knees and taking the bigger man up into a Fireman's carry.

 

"I'm not sure what Pirata is going for here, but it can't be good for TORU!" Mak speculates. Of course, TORU doesn't know either, but he demonstrates a similar lack of faith in Pirata's good intentions by pulling enough awareness together to knee his opponent repeatedly in the side of the head. Even the Venezuelan's sturdy constitution isn't able to shrug these blows off, and his balance wavers enough for TORU to slip out of his grip and get both feet back on the ground again. Pirata turns around to try and maintain his momentum, but TORU scoops him up to hold him across his chest for a moment, then executes a backflip into the Blockbuster Slam! However, the battering the Japanese Hammer has taken proves enough to prevent him from following up quickly, and it's a second before he can muster the wherewithal to hook Pirata's leg and lean into the pin...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

-but Pirata kicks out! TORU glowers at Brian Warner, who shows him two damning fingers; Takahara flips back a two-gun salute of his own, albeit on different hands, then starts to haul himself back to his feet and (even harder) bring Pirata up after him. With the good doctor in his grip TORU wraps both arms around his opponent's waist and gutwrenches him up onto his shoulder before dropping to his knees to perform the Canadian Backbreaker. Pirata crashes onto the canvas and TORU performs a rather exhausted yet passable luchadore-style head flip before giving Pirata the double bird and starting to climb the nearest set of turnbuckles.

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

"I don't think the crowd are all that pleased at TORU mocking his opponent," Mak comments.

 

"And since when has their opinion mattered?" King enquires mildly.

 

TORU reaches the top rope but resists the temptation to showboat anymore, instead leaping off to deliver a crushing kneedrop into Pirata's head!

 

"TORU Hammer!" Mak shouts, "and that could be it!"

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

-but it's not it, as Insane Luchador breaks up the pin! The Ill One takes the chance to mouth off at TORU as he is escorted from the ring by Warner, but the Japanese Hammer largely ignores him and instead pulls the battered Pirata to his feet. He takes hold of the Venezuelan luchadore and Irish whips him into the cables, then leaves his feet to swing a devastating jumping roundhouse kick at Pirata's head...

 

...but Pirata ducks, and continues on to the far ropes! TORU lands and swings around, arm already outstretched for a massive lariat - but Pirata has had the same idea!

 

*WHAM!*

 

Both men go down, and Brian Warner makes a quick check on each before raising both hands and starting his count!

 

'One!''

 

"You've got to think King, that with the amount of abuse Pirata has taken his only chance right now is to get the Insane Luchador into the match," The Franchise speculates.

 

'Two!'

 

"You've got to think Mak, that with the amount of idiocy on show here tonight Looch's only chance is to get himself a less ludicrous tag partner," King retorts.

 

'Three!'

 

Both men have rolled over and started to crawl, whether by luck or judgement towards their respective corners. TORU has KOJI, Chris Card and Natasha all shouting advice, guidance and encouragement; Dr. Pirata simply has the eyeholes of his mask fixed on the corner where a grim-faced Insane Luchador waits, hammering his hand on the top pad of the turnbuckle.

 

'Four!'

 

"Insane Luchador is well-rested," Mak says, "he's been itching to get in that ring for some time..."

 

'Five!''

 

KOJI reaches down towards TORU as Pirata makes a last desperate lunge towards the World Champion...

 

*smak*

 

*smak*

 

"They're in! It's on!" Mak bellows as IL hops straight over the ropes and tears towards KOJI. Darkness K is caught out by the ferocity of his opponent's charge and Looch delivers a flying forearm smash that knocks him clean off his feet; the World Champion then gets back up and launches immediately into a rolling Koppu kick that takes down TORU as the big man starts to pull himself up on the ropes.

 

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

TORU is nothing if not resilient and he starts to rise again; seeing this IL grabs KOJI in a front facelock and leaps into the air, kicking TORU in the face and using the momentum from pushing off to swing right round and spike Kitano's head into the mat with an improvised Tornado DDT!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

The fans are on their feet as Insane Luchador gets back to his, dragging the dazed KOJI up with him. He snakes an arm behind his opponent's neck, setting him up for the half-nelson facebuster, but KOJI manages to slip out and deliver a desperation kick to the gut. He grabs a front facelock and drags a thumb across his throat-

 

"Whirlwind Driver!" Mak shouts.

 

-but it's not to be, as IL levers KOJI's arm away and twists out to the side, then uses his grip on the limb to drag the smaller TKO member into a kneelift to the gut. The wind rushes out of KOJI's lungs and IL grabs his own front facelock, then reaches forwards to grab the waist of KOJI's tights in preparation for the Implant DDT...

 

*CRACK!*

 

...but TORU explodes forwards and springs up off his own partner's back to deliver a Shining Enzuigiri that topples Rickmen to the mat! TORU lands and looks around to get his bearings... too late to avoid Dr. Pirata who grabs Takahara's arm and rolls, bringing the bigger man down to the mat into a juji-gatame!

 

"That's the same arm that was injured and forced TORU to leave the SWF in 2006!" Mak shouts, "it was that very hold, applied by JJ Johnson, that is the reason for the large amount of padding he wears on that arm now!"

 

Sure enough, TORU is already howling in pain and tapping furiously, but of course neither he nor Pirata are the legal men. Brian Warner bends over the pair to try and inform Pirata of this and get him the hell out of the ring... and as his attention is distracted, Chris Card leaps into action and delivers the full blast of the Aerosol Equaliser right into the Insane Luchador's face from ringside!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

Card slides a chair in as KOJI picks himself up and drags the blinded World Champion into a headlock; Darkness K then throws IL's arm around his own neck, grabs Rickmen's pants and lifts him up...

 

...spins him around...

 

...and brings him down to plant him facefirst into the chair with the Whirlwind Driver!

 

*BANG!*

 

On cue, Card grabs the chair and removes it from sight again as KOJI rolls IL over; meanwhile Pirata has seen what's going on and releases the juji-gatame in an effort to break the pin. Warner whirls around and dives to start his count as TORU claws desperately at Pirata's leg with his unhurt right arm...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

...Pirata drags his leg free...

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

...Natasha lunges in from ringside and wraps both arms around Pirata's leg, hindering the Venezuelan as he tries to reach his tag partner...

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

"Ladies and gentlemen," Funyon booms, "the winners of the match and Number One Contenders to the SWF World Tag Team Titles... TEEEH! KAYYY! OHHHH!"

 

"I don't believe this," Mak says with a resignation in his voice that suggests that he actually does believe it, "they've stolen another one! Our World Champion's unbeaten run comes to an end from Chris Card, the Aerosol Equaliser and a steel chair!"

 

"It was beautiful to witness," the Suicide King beams, "and- hey, cut that out!"

 

Dr. Pirata has freed himself from the clutches of TORU and now starts attacking both members of TKO, driving the weary winners to the outside where they stand and raise their arms mockingly, while Chris Card starts telling a nearby camera how his team will shortly win the gold. In the ring, Insane Luchador is starting to get to his feet, wiping his eyes and glaring murderously as TKO when he can.

 

"Fans, don't go away because we've got Va'aiga vs Annie Eclectic for the Number One Contendership to the World Title coming up momentarily," Mak Francis says.

 

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT

 

 

[Toxxic 0]

And during the few moments that we have left... We want to talk right down to earth in a language that everybody

here can easily understand.

 

“Would those in the crowd show your support for Annie Eclectic by raising your crowns?” asks Funyon. A small number of the crowd lift their crowns, including a definite Annie section of pink haired girls. Annie walks down the ramp brandishing her trademark Bokken.

 

PITO SAUTE AKILAGI!

It ain't good, It ain't good 'cos you'll get jumped in my hood

PITO SAUTE AKILAGI!

It ain't good, It ain't good 'cos you'll get jumped in my hood

 

Va'aiga begins his walk down to the ring and throws the Shaka sign to the crowd. Annie swings her Kendo stick in Va'aiga's rough direction, eliciting no response form the Maori. As Va'aiga advances on Annie to start the match his music keeps pumping out of the speakers, New Jack style.

 

I'm hearin' you still talking that shit but none of your actions here are speakin' to me

 

Annie swings her Kendo stick with a flowing motion and cracks it over the head of The Maori. Va'aiga gives her a sideways glance as Annie drops the now broken stick, as if to ask, “Why the hell would you hit me over the head?”

 

I'm talkin' it, walkin' it, my stompin' style will stop your movement'

 

Both participants retreat to grab another weapon, Annie picking a Louisville Slugger, Va'aiga a Canterbury CCC Weapon cricket bat. Annie goes for a home run swing like she's batting clean-up for the Yorimuri Giants, Va'aiga blocking with a backward defensive like he's batting opener for the ND Knights.

 

Hold up who's this? (aarrah!) Still leavin' you with cuts and bruises

 

Annie swings the bat again but as Va'aiga hops backwards to dodge, the bat flies from her hands. Va'aiga takes a big step forwards and square cuts Annie in the ribcage, double the Hardcore Queen up.

 

So cut the bullshit before I rrrrock your face with a pool stick

 

Va'aiga drops the bat and swaps to his usual tactic of using his head, literally. Va'aiga lifts Annie up and smashes his rock hard cranium into Annie's four or five times.

 

Dirty, Dawnraid and Frontline, P-Money, Scribe, Savage and Con Psy

 

Annie shakes off thee effects of the headbutts and begins punching Va'aiga. Each shot rocks the Maori's head back, but Va'aiga takes time to back off and recover from the punches himself.

 

Everybody is feelin' that shit, I'm out your speakers like Ill Semantics

 

Annie sticks to striking at Va'aiga, not being physically large enough to lift him effectively but as Va'aiga is virtually impervious to strikes the Maori absorbs the blows.

 

On stage for the crowd reaction, Everyone just bounce your asses

 

Va'aiga grabs Annie around the waist, switches to a back waistlock and dump Annie on her head with a massive German Suplex.

 

Keep it movin', uh-huh, New Zealand music

 

And Annie stands up, smiling, Annie having been dropped on her head many times through her pro career and it never especially bothering her.

 

South Auckland raise your arms!! Let me see you throw it up!!

 

Va'aiga whips Annie into the ropes and drops the Hardcore Queen with a Spinebuster with a vicious snap to it. The Maori drops back into a corner and begins adjusting his forearm tape.

 

And I will always represent my crew Decep-Deceptikonz! WHUT!?!

 

Va'aiga, having a little distance now between himself and Annie takews a run up, extends the arm and blasts Annie with the EVIL VICIOUS NASTY GIVE ME MY TITLE SHOT MUTHAFUKKKKKKKAS LAAAAAAAAAAAARIAAATOOOOOOOOOOOO! Va'aiga drops to pin...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!!!

 

How many dudes you know roll like this?

How many dudes you know flow like this?

Not many, if any

Not many, if any

How many dudes you know got the skills to go and rock a show like this?

Uh-uh, uh-uh, I don't know anybody...