SWF GROUND ZERO VEGAS!!!!!

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Down on the Casino floor, the scene is of typical hubbub (!?!) as the Las Vegas patrons foolishly gamble their money away, just for the small glimmer of a win or just the thrill, the buzz, the financially crippling addiction that gambling brings. Amongst the hoohah (!?!), the SWF's aaaaace reporter Benjamin Hardy is down floorside, along with a very special guest. Wearing a long, flowing, black ballgown, Megan Skye would look particularly stunning tonight, if not for the sorrowful look on her face.

 

"Alright, Benjamin Hardy hangin' ten down on the floor of the Bellagio Hotel and Casino...where, not long from now, we will see a Casino Brawl take place. Right here behind us, Todd Cortez will finally get his hands on Landon Maddix, in what promises to be a chaotic brawl if nothing else. Now, one person with more than a vested interest in this match is with me right now. Megan Skye, you have been noticeable by your absence and your silence in recent weeks since what took place with Landon and yourself, leading to this Martial Law break-up. But, you've come here tonight...I'm assuming, to support Todd Cortez tonight?"

 

Megan nods solemnly.

 

"As we said, you've kept a low profile since what went down. Can we...can we get some comment from you?"

 

"What on?"

 

"Well...on the match tonight maybe?"

 

"Like I said Benny, I'm here to support Todd. He's back in the hotel now and he's getting ready, I decided to come down here early and give him some time to focus. Obviously, what's happened has really gotten to him. I've never seen him like he's been in recent weeks. It's been really..really rough. All I hope is that tonight, Todd and Landon can sort this out and we can all move on with our lives."

 

"When you say 'sort it out'..." interjects Hardy. "...what are we to expect from Todd Cortez tonight?"

 

"I...really don't know." sighs Megan, shaking her head. "It's been a little hard to talk to Todd about this. I know he's been confiding in Mike. Mike Van Siclen. I know they've been talking and discussing things, but it's been hard to talk to him about it myself. The thing that worries me is how far he might go. Seeing him watch Landon talk gets kinds scary at times. His eyes..." Megan pauses. "I've never seen Todd truly display any hatred, until these past few weeks. So, what you can expect from Todd, I really don't know. To what lengths he'll go, I'm afraid to think. To be honest, I've really been dreading this night. Now it's here? Like I say...I just hope that we can get through this, I hope that nobody gets hurt tonight and I just hope that we can all then move on with our lives."

 

Hardy nods.

 

"And, what about your thoughts on Landon himself?"

 

Sighing, Megan pauses, possibly looking for the right words to say.

 

"Landon's not a bad person." concedes Megan. "He's just not come to terms with what happened properly. I know firsthand, he's got a bad temper...and, he finds it hard not to hold grudges against people. Sometimes he says things he doesn't really mean which make people think he's a worse person than he really is, but they don't know him like I do...sorry, did. He's really, really not a bad person. We had a great run and a lot of fun along the way. I...I..."

 

Megan's voice begins to break up.

 

"I love him like a brother. Even after what's happened. We made a great team, but things change though. Life moves on and I'm with Todd now. I just hope that, in time, Landon will grow to recognise and respect that."

 

"Well, I wouldn't bet on it. Thank you Megan Skye, let's get back to ringside!"

 

Megan glares at Hardy for his off the cuff quip, as we go back to the ring.

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“Ladies and gentlemen,” announces Funyon, “please rise for the National Anthem.”

 

Funyon clears his throat and begins to sing.

 

Bright light city gonna set my soul

Gonna set my soul on fire

Got a whole lot of money that’s ready to burn,

So get those stakes up higher

There’s a thousand pretty women waitin’ out there

And they’re all livin’ devil may care

And I’m just the devil with love to spare

Viva las vegas, viva las vegas

 

How I wish that there were more

Than the twenty-four hours in the day

’cause even if there were forty more

I wouldn’t sleep a minute away

Oh, there’s black jack and poker and the roulette wheel

A fortune won and lost on ev’ry deal

All you need’s a strong heart and a nerve of steel

Viva las vegas, viva las vegas

 

Viva las vegas with you neon flashin’

And your one armbandits crashin’

All those hopes down the drain

Viva las vegas turnin’ day into nighttime

Turnin’ night into daytime

If you see it once

You’ll never be the same again

 

I’m gonna keep on the run

I’m gonna have me some fun

If it costs me my very last dime

If I wind up broke up well

I’ll always remember that I had a swingin’ time

I’m gonna give it ev’rything I’ve got

Lady luck please let the dice stay hot

Let me shout a seven with ev’ry shot

Viva las vegas, viva las vegas,

Viva, viva las vegas!

 

The National Anthem prompts a cheer from the crowd as the Las Vegas opening montage fades in!

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THE LAS VEGAS CARD

 

LIVE from the Grand Ballroom of the Bellagio Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada

 

Commentary Team: Longdogger Pete, and the classic commentary team of Bobby Riley and CYCLOOOOOOOOONE COMET!

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

Las Vegas Main Event - SWF World Heavyweight Championship Match

Ejiro Fasaki © vs. Johnny Dangerous

 

--> Some people think Ejiro snuck his way into Ground Zero's Main Event behind Tom Flesher's back, but let's face it - he's taken down some high-profile opponents to keep his gold. As far as Joseph Peters is concerned, Ejiro has earned his spot at the top.

 

None of those high-profile opponents have been Johnny Dangerous, however. Johnny's been waiting a long time to get another shot at the SWF World Title - with a newfound intensity and a willingness to bend the rules, Johnny may be poised to take the top spot in the SWF for a second time, which would carry him all the way to the Main Event at Genesis VI.

 

Rules: Standard singles match. I want a good clean fight, you two!

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

Casino Brawl

Landon Maddix vs. Todd Cortez

 

--> Pffft. Women. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.

 

Well, that's not entirely true - Todd Cortez seems to be living with 'em just fine, one in particular, and this makes Landon Maddix none too happy. Martial Law is dead and buried, leaving these former friends tearing at each others throats. Landon's got plans for the future, plans that include taking the World Title, getting back Megan, and breaking a few of his old stablemate's bones - will he make good on his threats, or will Todd Cortez knock him off his pedestal? And what about Megan - will she play a role in this match?

 

Rules: Rules are for sissies. This match starts on the Casino floor and can go anywhere it damn well pleases! Anything goes, and pinfalls count anywhere!

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

Lady Luck is a Bitch - House Rules Match for the SWF Hardcore Championship

Zyon © vs. Marcus Ward vs. Nick "The Hitlist" Blum

 

--> When Zyon was just a wee nooblet, he shocked SWF fans and employees alike by capturing the Hardcore Title in short order - tonight, we see if our latest batch of new recruits show the same kind of promise! Zyon will defend against Marcus Ward, a man with considerable strength and a mind to match it, and a technical high-flyer in Nick "The Hitlist" Blum!

 

Rules: There will be a slot machine outside the ring, with a cup of quarters on top. At the beginning of the match, Funyon will spin the slots once - but instead of cherries, bells, and sevens, this machine has been customized to display different match stipulations. Whichever stip it lands on, those are the current rules the match will be fought under. At ANY TIME during the match, a competitor may use the slot machine to change the current rules. Nobody knows what stipulations will be inside the machine - this is entirely up to the writers.

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BOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

Eight golden-white spark showers explode from nowhere setting both the air and the crowd alight. As the packed house roars in appreciation...

 

 

KABOOM!

 

All eight pyros erupt again, this time simultaneously accompanied by a huge burst of flame in the middle!

 

"THIS IS GROUND ZERO, LAS VEGAS!" screams Longdogger Pete, inciting the crowd even further,

 

"Welcome back fans around the world, to part two of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation GROUND ZERO. I'm Longdogger Pete, here with Bobby Riley and Cyclone Comet coming to you LIVE from the Bellagio Hotel AND Casino, Las Vegas, Nevada."

 

Longdogger Pete nods over to Riley who chimes in,

 

"Heh Heh, that's right wrestling fans, it's time to get down and dirty in the CITY OF SIN, where tonight it won't just be fun and games like those blokes in London had it...we may just leave here with a new World Champion, as the Rule of Ejiro Fasaki could be finished tonight"

 

Comet chirps up, "Holy Smokes Bobby, don't count out Johnny Dangerous yet!" He continues with a bit of a down tone "And lets not forget the Casino Brawl between Landon Maddox and Todd Cortez..."

 

Riley cuts him off with a cackle, "Ho ho. And that's what this match is all about, isn't it? Megan broke up Martial Law, and now they're looking to break each other into pieces!"

 

"But that's all later," announces Longdogger, "First up we have a match for the Hardcore Championship, with Zyon defending against two rookies, however the rules for this match are somewhat unique; in fact lets go to Funyon for the introductions and these unusual stipulations."

 

 

Funyon clears his throat once, and belts out his introductions "Ladies and Gentlemen, coming to the ring first, hailing from Harrisburg, NORTH CAROLINA, at a weight of 235 lbs...making his SWF DEBUT... Nick "THE HITLIST" BLUMMMMMMM"

 

Blum's music blares throughout the Bellagio, and everyone starts looking around for the newcomer. Suddenly a loud shout can be heard from way up near the rafters! The entire arena gasps as The Hitlist jumps straight off the Titantron! Blum runs straight at the ring, slides in headfirst and flashes a reckless smile at the crowd.

 

 

Dun. Dun.

Dun. Dun.

 

The crowd hushes as Between the Wheels starts playing

 

"Now making his way to the ring, tipping the scales at Two Hundred and FORTY-NINE pounds...in his first televised SWF appearence... Marcus WARD."

 

Marcus Ward comes out at a slow steady walk, looking straight ahead, not acknowledging anyone. About halfway down the walkway he stops and you can hear his voice over the music in a brutal sardonic tone “I'm in total control” as he glances from side to side with a knowing smile. He reaches the ring at the same leisurely pace he began slowly climbs between the top two ropes into the ring. He goes to each corner and climbs to the first rope and raises his arms staring down the crowd, challenging them, before stepping to the center crossing his arms at his stomach awaiting his opponent, making sure to keep one eye on The Hitlist.

 

 

 

"I'm Born"

 

 

"I'm Alive"

 

 

"I Breathe"

 

“Vitamin” by Incubus kicks in as Zyon walks on to the ramp looking over the arena at the fans who are looking at him. As the song picks up Zyon runs down to the ring and leaps on to the ropes. He grabs the top rope and with a little hop pulls himself over the ropes performing a flip to “pop” the crowd a little. Zyon waits a sec as the chorus to his theme plays.

 

You stare at me like I'm a vitamin.

On the surface you hate,

but you know you need me.

I'll come dressed as any pill you deem fit.

Whatever helps you swallow truth all the more easily.

 

Zyon then performs a minor head bang and raises his arms in the air showing a little intensity. The song continues to play as the lights in the arena flip back on and Zyon taunts a little bit more before going to his corner as preps for the upcoming contest.

 

Funyon shakes his head a bit at Zyon coming out before his introduction, but continues on "And introducing, your HARDCORE CHAMPION: From Elkhart, Indiana at 200 pounds... ZYON!!!"

 

The crowd roars in appreciation of the champion, and having a name they recognize in the ring. Each individual in the ring is clearly eyeing their oponent over, with no real game plan due to the unpredictable match, things are going to be chaotic.

 

 

"The following match is a House Rules match. There is no scheduled time limit, and no set number of falls; all of this may change however, as this is a Slot Machine Stipulation match" Funyon gestures to a gigantic machine sitting at ringside, which the spotlight shines down on. He walks over to the machine as he continues his explanation "Instead of cherries, tomatoes, dragons, or Lucky 7's, this machine contains a multitude of match stipulations. Before the match I will pull the handle once, to determine the starting rules. At ANY TIME, ANY COMPETITOR may change the match stipulations, with a simple pull of the handle. At this time ALL accumulated falls are wiped out, and NO WRESTLER MAY SCORE A FALL while the reels are moving. Each stipulation must be satisfied to win the match. Due to the wild nature of this match there will be two referee's on hand to officiate"

 

 

The crowd is rather quiet, trying to understand what's going on. They were hoping for some blood and chairs, and now they have slot machines and two referees? Most of the audience already lost their money on slot machines earlier, so they aren't too fond of them anyway.

 

"Now let's see what Lady Luck has in store for Tonight's Hardcore Championship Matchup!"

 

Funyon grabs the handle and pulls hard, marking the technical beginning of this match. The reels spin and spin flashing symbols that mean something only to the people in charge...

 

Click. A picture of a ladder. The crowd livens up a little bit at the thought of a three-way ladder challenge.

 

Click. NO DQ is written like a BAR symbol on a slot machine.

 

Click. A metal ring with three chains coming from it is pictured. The crowd is silent in confusion.

 

 

"Well what the hell does this mean!" Bobby Riley shouts out, a bit confused himself.

 

"I just got word from the officials," notes Longdogger "This match will start out as a Strap Match/Texas Bullrope match with a chain, where the objects to be touched are suspended above the ring only reachable by a ladder in each corner...and it's No Disqualification."

 

"YOWZERS," exclaims Comet, "I hope those chains are long enough, because this is something I've NEVER seen before"

 

The referees explain the rules to each wrestler, and the current stips are listed on the Smarktron at all times so each of the fans can know what's going on. Each wrestler looks a bit unsure as to the direction this match will go in as they are chained together with about 6 feet of give between wrestler and the metal ring, watching the other referee set four ladders up to reach suspended objects that need to be touched.

 

DING DING DING

 

 

"And the first match of Ground Zero, Las Vegas is underway."

 

"That's right Citizen Longdogger, and it looks like everyone is just testing the waters at first"

 

Ward, Blum, and Zyon all circle around one another, eyeing the ladders and quickly formulating a plan of action. Zyon quickly stretches out the full length of his chain, getting an idea just how much slack he's gonna have in this match. Marcus reaches down and grabs some of his slack in his hand, obviously having a plan to keep these high flyers out of the air.

 

 

Riley smirks, "Ward has the right idea, keep those two fools on the ground and he'll be able to beat them down all night long; Woh, what is Zyon doing?"

 

Zyon starts sprinting for one of the ladders, catching both The Hitlist and Ward off guard. Nick Blum starts chasing after him, obviously trying to stop him from making quick order of these four corners. Ward simply taps a forefinger to his temple, smiles and tugs violently on his end of the chain just as The Unique Youth leaps towards the ladder. Zyon apparently had this planned out as he gets his feet planted on one of the ladder rungs just in time, riding the chain pull into a somersault back flip senton splash right in Ward's face.

 

"WOW! Citizen Zyon is gonna be comin to me for flying lessons after this match, if that is any indication of his desire to soar!"

 

"Oh shut up, Comet. You CAN'T FLY ALREADY." Riley grumbles.

 

Zyon kips up after the splash and catches a charging Nick Blum with a high arcing hip toss. NO, he grabs his head and slams him down hard in a Disconnect neckbreaker!

 

LP starts exclaiming, "Zyon is rolling here, he has Ward dazed with the senton, and now Blum just took a brutal neckbreaker. He may just win this right out of the gates, as The Unique Youth is heading for the ladders!!!"

 

 

Not wasting a second, Zyon is using all his speed to run up the first ladder and touch the hanging dollar bill. He quickly completes the second, keeping an eye on his opponents for a sign of trouble. Z sprints up the third ladder jumping for the third bill, then spotting a stirring Blum out of the corner of his eye, he goes for broke.

 

LP screams, "No way, not this early, a FINAL FLASH?!?"

 

"He's spending almost as much time in the air as me!" Comet remarks

 

 

Zyon plants on the top rung of the ladder, makes a signal to the crowd an overwhelming pop, and he LEAPS high into the air, getting totally vertical several feet above of NB before getting in perfect position for his upper back to plant the Hitplant to the canvas.

 

"This match is just about in the books, as the Hardcore Champion will retain once again..." LP states assuredly, Comet nodding frantically next to him.

 

 

Rolling out of the Final Flash onto his feet, Zyon gets his bearings and identifies the last ladder he needs to ascend. He sees nothing but that hanging dollar bill, and the title strapped back around his waist as he racess to the ladder and starts climbing the rungs.

 

"Don't ring the bell yet, Ward's gonna crash Zyon's party now" Riley points out Ward rising to his feet with chain in hand.

 

Pete nods his head and replies, 'We may not be finished here yet, folks, someone has some life in them!"

 

Ward finally shakes the senton-ladder-splash off and spies Zyon reaching the top of the ladder. Not having any clue which corner he's on, but not wanting to take any chances MW lets out his second vicious chain pull of the match; Zyon's hands are so busy reaching for victory, they have no leverage to keep him on the ladder as his feet give out from under him, his chin knocking solidly off the top of the ladder resulting in a heap of Zyon tumbling down the ladder to the canvas.

 

"What a change of events," LP comments, "Ward is now in control with two senseless opponents, how will he capitalize on this, can he climb the corners to victory?"

 

"Wowza! Longdogger, Citizen Ward isn't much of a flyin man, so I don't know if he can really handle the ladders here." mentions Comet

 

Marcus Ward had the same idea himself, and immediately slides outside of the ring, dragging both prone opponents a few inches so he can reach his target: the slot machine.

 

"Now that's taking control!" Riley promotes Ward's decision, even giving him a small round of applause.

 

LP responds, "Lets see what the new stipulations are, as Ward obviously wants no part of any ladder match.

 

Ward wrenches the lever impatiently as he notices Blum and Zyon both starting to stir, realizing his space to win this match is over in a blink of an eye.

 

Click. A picture of a pillow?

 

Click. A picture of a cage.

 

Click. A picture of a broken table. The crowd reacts especially loud to that, anticipating someone going through a table to finish this match.

 

The referees quickly unchain the competitors and clear out the ladders, even as a cage starts to lower from the ceiling. Realizing he can't win unless he starts IN the cage to get out, Ward slides in the ring and stands up, just in time to get smacked in the back of the head with a large down pillow. The audience laughs as he turns and picks it up, as the ref's throw five more of them in, two for each competitor, finishing just as the clank of the cage reaching the floor echos in the arena.

 

LP announces, "To win the match from this point forward, the competitor must escape from the cage or score a pinfall or submission as well as put one of his opponents through a table. In addition, pillows are a legal weapon during these stipulations."

 

Riley fumes, "Pillows, next thing you know they'll be having kitty cats, and tooth fairies!"

 

 

Blum and Zyon have both managed to get to their feet during the match transition, though Z still seems dazed from the shot to the chin. Ward walks right up to Zyon and bashes him with a stiff-looking uppercut-forearm shot to that same chin. A second and third forearm strike drives Zyon to the corner. Ward continues with several knees to the sternum of The Unique Youth, wearing him down. As Zyon leans over gasping for air Ward grips his arms behind Z's back, getting them locked in for an apparent belly-to-belly suplex. Even as MW sets his feet to 'plex Z, Blum comes out of nowhere with a giant crossbody, impacting both of his opponents at once.

 

"A gigantic splash from The Hitlist, finally showing some sort of offense in this match"

 

With Zyon sitting stunned in the corner, Blum turns his attention to the prone Ward. The Hitlist kicks a pillow out of his way before bouncing off the ropes into a run, reaching the other side of the ring before leaping up, planting his feet on the top rope and hitting a Lionsault splash hard into Ward.

 

"Now a Lionsault, The Hitlist is on fire, what will he string this momentum into?" LP asks.

 

Sensing his control of the match, Nick Blum starts into the ropes again then runs across the ring, leaping again to the top rope, springboarding into a full 180-degree rotation with an elbow drop across the neck of Marcus Ward.

 

"180 ELBOW to Ward, is this gonna be a quick pinfall for The Hitlist!" wails LP

 

 

NB rolls over onto Ward, hooking the leg for added leverage as the ref slides in to make the count.

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

(The crowd starts roaring, between counts, and Hitlist seems sure it's because hes gonna get a pinfall and be halfway to a debut Hardcore Title)

 

 

THrrrrrrrrrre - -

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

Just as official John Trudell brings his hand down for the final count he's rudely interrupted by the impact of The Hardcore Champion, Zyon finishing off a picture-perfect asai moonsault right in his face to disrupt the pinfall.

 

 

"WOw! Wow! Wow!. Citizen Zyon can't fly yet, but he sure has learned how to soar. I'm starting to like this guy...and so is the crowd!" warbles Comet!

 

Sure enough the entire audience is chanting "ZYON! ZYON! ZYON!" after his third amazing impact aerial maneuver of the night.

 

 

"Here's Zyon, back in control, seems like I've been saying that all night in fact." remarks LP

 

 

Zyon pulls himself up and immediately heads for the cage climbing the rings like a trapped monkey (which he basically is). Ward and Blum are both still struggling to shake off the moonsault even as Zyon makes it down the outside of the cage, holding his arms in triumph...before realizing he still has to put one of those fools through a table.

 

"Looks like the crowd here in Vegas just wants to see someone go through a table tonight!" notes Longdogger Pete.

 

First things first, Zyon unlocks and unloops the chain around the cage door and swings it wide open, before tossing a table in the cage and over the ropes, right at the feet of the rising Nick Blum. Sliding into the ring, Zyon pelts Nick with swift kicks to the shin and lower abdomen, catching him before he can defend himself. After a few more strikes to knock Nick into the ropes, Zyon whips him across the ring and catches him off the rebound in an overhead hurricanara. Zyon kips up and heads for the table, before getting elbowed in the back of the head by a recovered Marcus Ward, who irish whips Z into the other side of the ring. Ward waits on The Unique Youth and gets him up...

 

Longdogger comments rapidly, "Oh my, Ward has him in the tilt-a-whirl, it looks like he's got him twisted around twice, then a spin and it's a spinerbust...no wait Zyon just got his arm around Ward's neck and reversed it into a spike DDT, with Marcus Ward basically headbutting the canvas with all his near 250 pounds behind it!"

 

Ward hits the mat with a audible thud and flips up and over onto his back as recoil from the brutal impact of the counter ddt. Zyon moves rapidly to the table and sets it up in the center of the ring before picking the lighter Blum off the mat and rolling him onto the table. Up to the top rope goes Zyon, clearly set on winning this match right here and now, the only way he knows how...through the air.

 

 

Comet shouts, "If he goes to the air one more time, I may just have to take off my cape to this man, this soaring Citizen Z!"

 

Riley screams, "No, Ward can't lose like that, get up and toss him off, we all know you're in control!"

 

 

LP comments, "Zyon's signally, yes he's gonna do ANOTHER FINAL FLASH...and this one is final, he's gonna send The Hitlist home with this leap."

 

 

A roaring crowd shouts "FINAL FLASH!" As Zyon signals, then leaps into the air. Just as he gets completely vertical, he begins moving his shoulders in position for the impact part of the maneuver...when he takes a dropkick in the back of the head!

 

LD shouts, "Blum made it up just as Zyon was descending, and he reacted with one of the most amazing standing dropkicks I've ever seen!"

 

Blum finishes his drop kick falling through the table to the canvas, still crushing his back with impact and slicing it splinters, but at least not giving Zyon the victory. Z tumbles in the air before landing awkwardly on his spine, clearly cold-clocked by the kick to the back of the head.

 

 

"All three competitors are out of comission, and the official is starting the triple count...could we have a thee-way draw here?!"

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Blum stirs a bit and Ward is rolling around clutching his head, but Zyon shows no sign of consciousness and certainly won't be the one to break this count.

 

FIVE!

 

SIX!

 

SSEEEEVVENN!

 

 

EIGGHHHTTT!

 

 

NIIIINE...Ward starts rising up, getting to his knee just at the nine count, while NB rolls to his stomach and pushes himself to his feet at the same time. Spotting each other they go into a grapple that Blum shifts into a headlock; Ward spins out of that and into a rear waistlock on NB. MW delivers two swift headbutts to The Hitlist, who responds by rolling forward onto the mat, grabbing Ward's head to bring him down also, then getting his hands locked in MW's legs to set up a roll-up pin.

 

The ref slides in

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

Ward kicks out with conviction, and quickly gets to his feet in time to catch a rushing Nick Blum in a tide-turning powerslam...onto a pillow??? Nick Blum starts to wiggle out of MW's grip and runs into the ropes, bouncing off and leaping at him with a crossbody...which Ward turns into a tilt-a-whirl twisting him around twice then finishing with a migraine-inducing piledriver.

 

 

"Excellent action there, for once some back and forth action, though WARD sort of ruined that by pasting The Hitlist to the canvas...after a little bit of a pillow problem" LDP narrates

 

Riley cackles, "And look at Ward, see, he's in TOTAL CONTROL here!"

 

Bobby Riley is of course pointing to the fact that Marcus Ward is tapping the side of his temple and gesturing to his fallen foes, getting the welcome jeers of the Las Vegas crowd. Ward picks NB up off the mat by the hair then scoops him up in his arms.

 

CRACK! Backbreaker with the knee in the side of the ribs/lower back.

 

CRACK!

 

LP remarks, "Ward continues with a second side backbreaker, shortening the future career of his opponent!"

 

"Do a third!" Riley urges him on.

 

CRRRRRRACK!

 

Backbreaker number three imprints the point of Ward's knee right into Blum's spine. MW stands up still holding The Hitlist as if he's going to perform yet a fourth backbreaker. Ward shakes his head, flashes a sadistic smile and simply tosses Nick Blum over the top rope and BACK FIRST into the STEEL CAGE, the impact rattling the cage; NB then lands side first on the arena floor, his ribs/back taking yet more punishment.

 

 

"More punishment for Nick Blum in his SWF debut as he is just tossed to the arena floor like a rag doll by the surging Marcus Ward" comments Longdogger Pete

 

Comet speaks up, "Gadzooks, Ward is not playing fair. I see Zyon is to his feet now, so maybe he'll be able to show him the way to wrestle."

 

Riley curses, "Comet you pansy, shut up and watch Mr. Ward show you how to WIN a match!"

 

 

Zyon is indeed rising to his feet, but Ward has certainly not forgotten him as he meets the crouched over Youth with a hellacious knee lift, pushing him into the turnbuckles. Ward applies a series of forearms to the same chin Z smacked off the top of the ladder earlier.

 

"That prolly won't look pretty later on, but maybe he can do Bruce Campbell impersonations as a side-gig," comments a gleeful Bobby Riley

 

Ward taps the side of his temple again, showing the crowd who's in control as he drags Zyon by his hair to the cage door, launching him outside the ring, out the door and onto the floor. Marcus walks out of the ring to meet Zyon and takes the opportunity to dig the toe of his boot in his throat for several seconds, up to the four count of the outside ref. Ward completes the toe-choke with a brutal punt-kick to the chin of Zyon.

 

"OH I'm surprised his head didn't roll all the way here like a soccer ball!" Riley seems energized by Ward's comeback.

 

LP comments, "Now Ward is setting up a table, clearly going for the finish himself, realizing it's now or never to have a chance at the Hardcore Gold!"

 

Marcus completes the table, taking a bit longer to set it up trying to get the legs stable, then he rolls the stunned Zyon right up onto the table.

 

"Looks like Ward is going to climb up on the padded retaining wall and jump from there to finish this thing. He's not much of a high flyer, but at 249 lbs it won't take much to bust The Unique Youth through this table...No wait, Blum is coming out of the cage door and making a run at Marcus Ward!" Longdogger continues with more play-by-play.

 

Ward takes three stinging knife-edge chops to the chest before Blum grabs his arm and whips him across to the other side of the arena where he slams into the retaining wall on that side.

 

"Looks like Blum is in the clear to finish the match right here, no one to stop him, and Zyon is ready for him on the table," LD Pete comments.

 

The Hitlist sees the situation, and hears the crowd roaring, and he knows he's gotta make this stick. Nothing simple from him, he's gonna prove he earned this championship. Nick Blum starts climbing the cage near the table where Zyon is laid out face down on.

 

 

"He's going to make this spectacular, apparently the easy win isn't good enough for him. Wait, Ward is getting up, but he's certainly not close enough to make it to the other side of the ring in time, he's just going to watch his loss in slow motion" remarks LP

 

"Flying through the air, in slow motion, too" adds Comet

 

Riley guffaws, "HA, he is close to something else though, and I think he knows...well OF COURSE HE KNOWS, he's in TOTAL CONTROL!"

 

 

Ward spots Blum readying for a high-flying move, and notices the slot machine: Two feet away. He dives for the handle and pulls it! Even as he's gripping sweaty palms on the knob of the slot lever, Nick Blum is launching himself in a rotating elbow drop off the cage right towards Zyon...who is finally coming to and starts sliding off the table, instincts telling him that's not a winning place to be. Blum impacts elbow first right onto Zyon's leg which crashes through the table to drive directly into a portruding steel leg of the table.

 

"What the hell just happened, and...what is Ward doing to the machine?!?"

 

Zyon is screaming in excruitating pain, clutching his knee that clearly took some awful damage in the 180-elbow from the cage. In a heap next to him, is Nick "The Hitlist" Blum who took a brutal spill impact of his own. On the other side of the ring, Marcus Ward is playing with something behind the slot machine, and Official Matthew Kivell has approached him and gotten in his face.

 

LP says, "Something is goin on, the ref and Ward are arguing chest to chest, it looks like the official is about to DQ him for tampering with the match...this is huge..but wait folks! Ward is pointing at the machine!"

 

Click. NO DQ

 

Ward laughs in the face of the ref as the NO DQ stipulation comes up, tapping the side of his forehead, which results in even louder jeering from this Vegas crowd that is now fully against Marcus Ward

 

Riley cackles, "This Ward, I like this guy. He had to have this planned before the match, and he knew what he was doing. He really is in total control!"

 

Comet complains back, "This is ridiculous Riley...what an abuse of the rules!"

 

Click. Submission

 

Click. Elimination

 

The rest of the stipulation reels roll into place, even so the Referee is still arguing with Ward, pointing to the aisle and ordering him to go. Apparently Ward won't stand for that, gives him a brutally stiff uppercut-forearm and then lifts him overhead in a military press. One swift-second later the official is falling out of mid-air onto wards shoulder and into an arena-floor spinebuster.

 

 

"That's the Conspiracy Collapse...and it sure did it's job tonight!" Riley boasts!

 

Longdogger Pete remarks, "Looks like Ward has this where he wants it...though The Hitlist is getting up to meet him"

 

Nick Blum rises up and holds his arms up in victory, spinning around in the table wreckage, watching the cage rising up at the stipulation change to him though all of this is sure sign of his victory. He turns and looks at Ward approaching him and sticks his arm out for an arrogant, cocky "I won" handshake. Ward smiles and takes the handshake...pulling The Hitlist into his chest then using his clutched hand to pull off a brutal Exploder powerslam to the floor.

 

Comet complains, "That wasn't very honorable of Citizen Ward, what happened to a fair fight!"

 

Riley smacks Comet on the back of the head, "Shut up you twit!"

 

Longdogger Pete ignores the two and comments, "Zyon has finally made it to his feet, though he is leaning on the retaining wall and obviously clutching his knee. Oh no, Ward is heading towards him, and he has a piece of the table leg with him!"

 

 

Ward takes the table leg and thwacks it right across Zyon's bad knee, sending him crashing to the floor. A tap of the table leg to his temple and Marcus Ward descends on Zyon, quickly locking him up in an excrutiating crucifix-kneebar!

 

 

"The Bavarian Bone-Breaker, I don't see how Zyon can hope to get out of this with an already damaged knee. It's just too much for the young man, Hardcore Champion or not..."

 

Zyon struggles. He screams. The bones are creaking in his leg, the ref is in his face, waiting for the word to ring the bell for his elimination. His eyes bulge, his black-and-blue chin beats against the pad on the arena floor struggling to resist, searching for a way to escape this hold. Ward simply puts the pressure on, locking in the Bavarian Bone Breaker with no mercy, no intention on releasing this. The Unique Youth sees his career flashing before his eyes. His knee a pile of bone chips and a year of rehab.

 

TAP TAP TAP

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Funyon announces, "Zyon has been eliminated"

 

Ward continues to hold the kneebar for several seconds as the crowd screams and jeers at him "MARCUS SUCKS, MARCUS SUCKS." He relinquishes the hold begrudgingly, knowing he has another opponent to take care of. Zyon is dragged off after being released from the hold, and helped to the back to tend for his injured knee.

 

 

"Well looks like we'll have a new champion tonight folks, though who will it be? Nick Blum and Marcus Ward are going to finish this mano a mano..." says Longdogger Pete.

 

Nick Blum obviously has Marcus Ward on his Hitlist now after that sneak attack. He slides into the ring quickly, waiting for Ward to come meet him there. Marcus eases into the ring, wary of the quicker Blum. The two foes lock arms in a grapple, but Ward delivers three sharp knees to the gut before shifting into a side headlock on Blum. NB pushes Ward off of his headlock and into the ropes. MW bounces from the ropes and back towards Nick, who drops to the ground on his stomach. Marcus steps over him and bounces off the ropes again back towards NB who drops down again, obviously trying to bait Marcus into running with him, MW leaps and lands with a double knee drop right into the lower back of Nick.

 

 

"Marcus Ward has once again stifled the momentum of Nick Blum" remarks LP

 

Riley preens, "It's like I'm in the ring again, stopping people cold in their tracks!"

 

 

Climbing between the top and middle ropes then dropping to the floor, Ward lifts up the ring apron and begins rooting around underneath

 

 

Comet shouts, "What is he doing under there, nothing he pulls out of there could be any good at all, just keep it in the ring Ward!"

 

"Looks like he's found it...oh my a rather large orange ladder, a bit bigger than the normal ladders we uses, a few feet between the runs and a lot wider...what could he be planning with this damn thing." describes Longdogger.

 

 

Ward slides into the ring, dragging the ladder with him. Blum begins to stir and push up onto his hands and knees, still clearly groggy. Ward gives him a knee drop to the back of the head once...twice...three times a knee drop to the head. Pulling Blum up by the hair, MW then irish whips him into the ropes, waiting in the center for The Hitlist...who comes back right in the arms of Marcus Ward.

 

Lift.

 

Pivot.

 

Slam.CLANG.

 

"SPINEBUSTER INTO THE LADDER!!!" LP screams, trying to talk above the boisterous crowd amazed at the brutality of that metal-on-flesh mix.

 

 

Rolling NB off the ladder, MW hefts it up and opens it. He looks around the arena and taps the side of his head, indicating to everyone he's in total control. Ward walks to blum and hefts him up to his chest...then brings him to the ladder and holds him up at shoulder/head high...

 

"Oh my...what is he planning. He's intertwining Nick Blum in the ladder, his legs are scisorred between the one rail, the other rail is between his head and arm, his back is twisted and resting on one of the steel rungs. What is his plan?!" the words of LP echo as the audience stares down in horror and fascination.

 

Marcus Ward signals one more time before turning and gripping Nick "The Hitlist" Blum in Total Control. A Human Torture Rack, intertwined in a ladder, all the pressure being forced on a steel ladder.

 

 

"That's a twisted and brutal way try and force this submission...though it certainly is deserving of the Hardcore title..." observes Longdogger Pete.

 

Riley roars, "There's no escape for BLUM! He's all wrapped in the ladder so has no leverage, and Ward isn't going to get tired because he isn't supporting any weight, just racking him on the ladder. It's the human ladder rack!!!!"

 

Blum screams and screams, clutching for something his body twisting and slamming and grinding on the unforgiving steel of the ladder. Ward tightens his grips on the head and legs, wringing the submission right out of Blum, who quickly shouts to the ref that he's had enough.

 

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

 

 

 

Funyon announces "The winner of this match via submission, and your new HARDCORE CHAMPION... MARCUS WARD!!!!"

 

Hateful boos erupt in the Bellagio Hotel and Casino at the announcement, and grow only louder as the ref hands Ward his newly won title and raises his hand to signify the victory. Instead of growing angry, Ward only taps his head with forefinger and then swiftly kicks over the ladder that has Nick Blum intertwined in it ignoring the officials attempting to untangle his battered body as he Walks up the aisle a champion.

[Ace309 0]

FADE IN…

 

 

Backstage at the Belligao’s Grand Ballroom, Ben Hardy stands ready to conduct an interview. Slowly, the cameras begin to back away from Hardy, revealing the man standing next to him to be Johnny Dangerous. A thunderous roar of cheers erupts from the Las Vegas crowd, bringing a smile to the Barracuda’s lips. It takes a minute for these fans to settle themselves down, but when they finally quiet Ben steps forward and begins.

 

“Johnny,” says Hardy, “the last time we saw you at an SWF event you interfered in the World Title match between Ejiro Fasaki and Wildchild. Some have even said if not for your involvement in that match that we might have been looking at a different main event for tonight. What do you have to say to those that claim you screwed a man that you call a brother out of the World Heavyweight Championship?”

 

“Ben, I didn’t screw anybody out of the World title,” Johnny responds as he shakes his head in annoyance. “Though I haven’t been at the past few shows I’ve talked to Wildchild. He knows that I was forced to take action in that match. See, I’ve been waiting for this opportunity that I have tonight for a long while and while Wild versus Dangerous for the World Heavyweight Championship would have been a phenomenal match…I knew what I’d be bringing to the table here tonight. I knew that I would be willing to do anything it takes to win tonight, no matter how bad I had to hurt the reigning World Champion to do it, and I couldn’t have lived with myself if I had to hurt the Wildchild.”

 

“Well,” says Ben, “That was certainly ‘noble’ of you to save your tag partner from any unnecessary violence, Johnny. However…”

 

“I’m sorry, Ben,” interjects Johnny, “there is no however to this story! What we have is me versus Ejiro Fasaki, tonight, for the World Heavyweight Championship! This is a match that I have waited for six months to receive. A match that I was robbed of by numerous talent-less hacks, one of them being your reigning World Champion, but all that stops here tonight! The wait is over and now I stand poised to claim the World Heavyweight Championship once more!”

 

Looking into the camera and out to his hometown fans, the Barracuda momentarily pauses. The crowd can be heard cheering but the quickly quiet down so their hero can continue.

 

“Ejiro,” says Johnny. “You think that you are going to come out here tonight with something to prove – to prove me, Tom Flesher, and everyone else wrong. Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen; I’m a doormat for nobody especially not for some washed up has been like you. You’ve been forgotten for a reason, Ejiro, and rightfully so. I would have thought that after having me kick your ass in three separate tag matches would have shown you that. You can’t beat me and you know it, Fasaki!”

 

“To the fans—my fans—of Las Vegas,” Johnny continues, “I ask you to stand by me as I take on this worthless excuse for a Champion. No matter what mutterings have been going on around the world about me I know that I have come home to the city of ‘Beautiful People’, the people that are here for no other purpose than to lead this world to a greater tomorrow. You are the people that I have devoted my entire wrestling career to as well as this match tonight. Together we will claim the World Heavyweight Championship and together we will rise above every other person in this business!”

 

Flashing that smile that could sell a million movie tickets, Johnny lowers the microphone from his lips…

 

 

 

 

As We:

FADE OUT.

[Ace309 0]

Back down on the casino floor, amongst the everyday patrons of the hotel, the stocky figure of one Todd Cortez is instantly recognisable to the wrestling fans of the world as he strolls past the vast rows of slot machines with his gaze scanning around. Cortez certainly looks the part, in a crisp navy blue suit over which his gold chain and cross hangs. But, quite obviously, The Urban Legend isn't overly concerned with fitting into the crowd. He'd rather fight man to man than out of the proverbial bushes. As yet though, even after a good couple of minutes pacing the floors, Cortez has yet to find his opponent.

 

Probably, because he is skulking and sneaking around in another part of the vast casino, picked out by a second camera and apparantly in no mood to be found. Nervously glancing all around, Landon Maddix continues his sneaking...being extra cautious as he emerges from behind a group of chatting yuppies and losing some of his cover temporarily. Unlike Cortez, Maddix's suit isn't neccessarily 'crisp'. Infact, with a black suit with red pinstripes, not to mention his 'salmon' -- not pink, honest -- shirt, Maddix looks quite the doofus. Indeed, it's quite the suit to be wearing if you're trying to blend in with normal people. For now though, Maddix seems safe and as he passes a busy table, The Next Generation takes a detour and finds one table that isn't quite so crowded.

 

"Excuse me." Maddix sounds out, the dealer at the table glancing up little more than an inch while shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. "I don't suppose you've had any little Mexicans walking around asking if they'd seen a Landon Maddix, have you?"

 

"No sir."

 

"Good. So, uhm...what are we playing?"

 

"Blackjack, sir."

 

Musing for a moment, Maddix takes a glance to his left, then to his right. No sign of Cortez. And, presumably, time enough for a quick game.

 

"Alright, deal me in." Maddix finally says, making sure to keep his voice down and to keep an eye out around him. Sitting himself at the table, Maddix smiles at the young women next to her, who promptly turns her nose up at the young 'ruffian' with the crappy dress sense. "Uhm, hi. So...uh, what are the rules of this 'Black Jack' then?"

 

Groans go up all around Maddix.

 

"What?"

 

 

Meanwhile, Todd Cortez is still pacing around in search of his opponent. The look on The Urban Legend's face indicates that if and when he finally does find Landon Maddix, the results aren't going to be pretty. Turning a corner, Cortez gets away from the flashing slot machines and into a more open part of the floor, giving him a better chance to scan around the casino floor. Still there seems to be no sign of Maddix yet though. Growing frustrated, Cortez quickly pulls a waiter aside as he passes by.

 

"I don't suppose you've seen anyone suspicious walking around here?" Cortez asks quickly.

 

"Probably sir...after all, this is Las Vegas. What does he look like?"

 

Cortez clearly has ideas of how to reply, but they wouldn't exactly be 'helpful'. "Well, he's got girly blonde hair, no dress sense...possibly swaggering."

 

"Are you Todd Cortez?"

 

"Yeah...why?"

 

"Oh, well, I have seen someone that kinda matches that description. He told me that if anyone named Todd Cortez asked after him, that he would be waiting for him in the parking lot."

 

Cortez nods.

 

"Thing is, he went the wrong way. See, the parking lot is that way..." explains the waiter, pointing off in one direction. "...but, he ran off that wa...oh, hey, there he is!"

 

The waiter points off to his right, Cortez glancing over and spotting the long, flowing locks of La Cucaracha being flicked away from his eye region over at a sparsely populated Blackjack table. Snarling under his breath, Cortez wrings his hands, knowing that he's close. The waiter goes to walk off, but suddenly Cortez stops him again, grabbing one of the glasses off of his tray.

 

"Any alcohol in this?"

 

"Uhm...yes, but that's been paid fo..."

 

Cortez tosses the contents of the glass over his head, drenching one patron behind him...before striding off in Maddix's direction, glass in hand.

 

 

"Hit me."

 

"Sir, you don't have to say hit me. You just have to signal." The dealer, growing noticeably weary, motions the 'tap' that people who know what they're doing would use to indicate a hit. Maddix takes note, looking at his cards and tapping the table. The woman next to Maddix groans, mumbling "Stick." under her breath, while Maddix muses over his cards.

 

"So...how much is a Queen worth?"

 

"10, sir." sighs the dealer.

 

"And, the suits have nothing to do with scores?"

 

"For the last time, no...sir."

 

Displaying his best poker face, Maddix beams from ear to ear as he lays down his cards. The 8 of diamons, 3 of clubs and a Queen of clubs...giving him, of course, a grand total of 21. "I think I'll stick." More murmurs of discontent go up around the table, as Maddix continues to beam away. As the other players fold, the dealer begins returning Maddix his original bet, together with his small but collectable winnings. "Heh...must be my lucky day, eh?"

 

"Think again."

 

In the process of collecting up his chips, Maddix freezes in shock, recognising the growling voice behind him. The voice of Todd Cortez, standing over Maddix and waiting for him to turn around. Still frozen, Maddix slowly begins to scoop his chips up, dumping them safely in his pocket, before turning around...and getting nailed with a big right from Todd! Up into the air flies Maddix, tumbling back over the table and wiping out the dealer in the process. Screams sound out around the table as Cortez quickly scampers around to meet Maddix as he picks himself up, grabbing Maddix behind the head and SLAMMING him face-first into the green cloth of the table! Maddix ends up spread-eagled over the table, caught unprepared by Cortez's attack. The Urban Legend could care less though, as he reaches back into his dress pants' pocket, pulling the empty glass out...

 

 

*SMASH!*

 

...and smashing it over the back of Maddix's head!! Another set of screams can be hear from the growing crowd, assembling around this crazy brawl starting up, as shards of glass fly off of The Next Generation's head and across the casino. The dealer has finally picked himself up, dusting himself off and getting the hell away. Meanwhile, Cortez comes back to the front of the table. Again the face of Maddix gets bumped off the table, before The Urban Legend applies a front facelock, reaching behind and suplexing Maddix off of his stomach, over onto the hard floor of the casino!

 

"AAAAHHHHHHHH!"

 

"This is just the beginning, you son of a bitch!" yells Cortez as he gets to his knees beside the writhing Maddix, reaching down and primatively gouging at Maddix's eyes!!

 

Eventually, Maddix scrambles free and tries to crawl away. Cortez is right on his tail though. Literally, grabbing the tails of Maddix's over eleborate suit to pull him back before slamming a boot to the back of the head. Still the only thing on Landon's mind is to escape, while Cortez grabs him by the hair, pulling his opponent slowly to his feet. Cortez fires a knee into the gut, following up with a stiff European uppercut. Able to stay on his feet somehow, Maddix is in the process of begging off, as Cortez grabs his arm, irish whipping Maddix forwards...

 

 

 

...but Maddix reverses the whip, sending Cortez hurtling forwards and hard into the blackjack table!! As the edge of the wooden table catches him directly in the gut, Cortez goes hurtling over the top of the table, sliding all the way over the back and out of sight, taking all the remnaints and the cloth on the table with him. Relief is clear on Landon Maddix's face as he groggily stumbles backwards into the crowd, using one elderly man as a leaning post to stay on his feet while he tries to regain his bearings. Once he does so though, he shoves the man away, earning himself some insta heel heat~! in the process.

 

"You see..." begins Maddix, long-winded even in the middle of a fight. "...biased as I may be, that seemed pretty lucky to me."

 

Maddix staggers away from the crowd of people, pressing his hand to the back of his head to check for any blood from the glass.

 

"Now then, what we have here, is a...AAAAH!!"

 

Suddenly, Maddix wails in pain as a good dozen multi-coloured plastic chips hurtle into his face. Maddix instictively covers up his face as another bunch of chips fly through the air. While he's covered up, Todd Cortez suddenly emerges back from behind the table and dives frontwards across the wood, grabbing his right arm around Maddix's head and throwing furious lefts into the side of his head. Driven by rage, any injures Cortez had picked up from his flight over the table are of no concern to him right now as he fires away repeatedly. Maddix attempts to drag himself away, Cortez clinging onto his makeshift headlock and ending up sliding on his back across the table until he lands his feet on the floor. Still throwing lefts, Cortez knocks Maddix to his knees, before turning to his side in search of something to use as a weapon. Not finding anything though, Cortez decides to use his hands as his weapons, popping Maddix with a left. Followed up with a straight kick to the gut. Landon doubles over, Cortez quickly grabbing him by the pants and the hair, hurling him forwards and sending people scattering as Maddix tumbles out towards the crowds.

 

"Yeah!" shouts one over-enthusiastic fan. "Kick his ass...uhm...er...guy!"

 

"It's Todd."

 

"Yeah, Todd, WHOO! Lay the smackdown on him, yeah! Word Life!"

 

Shuddering, Cortez brushes past the fan...

 

 

 

...leaving himself open, for Maddix to lunge forward, firing his forearm between The Urban Legend's legs with a desperation lowblow! Groans from those around mask the groans of Todd Cortez, toppling over to the casino floor with his eyes bugged open in a mixture of shock and breathlessness. Maddix meanwhile drags himself to his feet, looking down at Cortez with a wry smirk...before slamming the heel of his dress shoe into Cortez's forehead. And again. With Cortez temporarily dazed, Maddix quickly grabs Cortez's legs and lifts them into the air, spreading him eagle.

 

"Tell Megan, this one's for her."

 

Maddix then reels his leg back, before dropping his knee into Cortez's lower regions!! Cortez writhes in agony, leaving the masses standing around to groan in empathetic pain.

 

"You're nothing Cortez!"

 

*WHAM!*

 

"Nothing! You hear me!?!"

 

*WHAM!*

 

"Where's Mike to save your ass, huh!?!"

 

*WHAM!*

 

The flat of Maddix's boot slams into Cortez's forehead three more times, each digging in a little more an opening up a small but noticeable cut just above his right eye. Morbid curiousity has brought more and more people over to watch as this fight rages on, but they're soon scurrying off again, as Maddix pushes them aside and jogs out of sight across the floor. A few watch him go, others looking on in concern while Todd Cortez pulls himself slowly back up to his feet. Blood begins to flow a little more freely from his cut as he pulls himself up, checking for any war wounds and finding a red line across the length of his palm. Needless to say, that doesn't exactly lighten Cortez's mood.

 

"Alright...let's fucking do this." growls Cortez under his breath, staggering off into the people in search of Landon Maddix, his lower extremeties apparantly still hampering him a little. All the same, Cortez limps on. Maddix has gotten out of sight, much to Cortez's frustration, kicking out at empty air. On walks Cortez more. But little does he know that behind him, Maddix is pushing aside patrons, holding in his hands the rake thing (even if it has a name, I'm sure nobody cares) used to clear larger tables. Cortez is oblivious, people merging into each other in the busy crowd. But, then again, it does seem odd that everyone behind him is moving out of the way...

 

 

 

*SNAP!*

 

Maddix suddenly lunges forward, breaking the small rake type thing across the back of Cortez!! Completely blindsighted, The Urban Legend collapses. A couple of worried casino-goers try to check on Cortez, presumably unaware that this is a wrestling match and not an impromptu fight that no-ones bothering to break up. Maddix shoves them out of the way though, yelling at them to "keep out of the god-damn way", before rolling Cortez hurriedly onto his back, making a pin attempt...

 

 

 

 

...no referee.

 

"...shit!" curses Maddix, causing one elderly gentleman's monocle to fall into his martini glass. "I KNEW I forgot something."

 

"What are you doing? Kick him!" shouts one clearly confused man, having just arrived and seeing Maddix laying on top of his opponent.

 

Maddix just ignores him though, trying to look past the scores of people around him for a referee. "IS THERE A REFEREE IN HERE!?!" Maddix finally resorts to yelling, getting no response, much to his disgust. "Okay, okay...IS ANYONE WEARING ANYTHING STRI..."

 

Smiling, Maddix stops, looking down at his stripey suit jacket. And, without warning, he hurriedly pulls it from his torso, before pulling forwards a younger looking man from the crowd. "Here, put this on."

 

"Wha...dude, not even! No way."

 

"Why not?"

 

"Well, look at it man. It's horrible, dude. Almost as bad as the pink shirt."

 

"Look, just shut up and put it on!" yells Maddix, thrusting the jacket into the guy's arms. "And, for the record...it's not pink, it's salmon!"

 

The guy scoffs, but after more encouragement from Maddix, begins to try and fit the jacket, despite a noteable size difference between himself. As he does so, Maddix drops to his knees beside Cortez, ready to re-attempt a pinfall. By now though, Cortez has recovered and picked up the half of the rake thingy that fell beside him, picking it up in his right hand and swinging out...cracking Maddix between the eyes!! Landon falls back clutching his face, all the excuse the unnamed guy needs to toss the jacket away and bail from the scene. Meanwhile, Cortez drags himself back up. If he wasn't pissed before, he certainly is now. Turning his head to the side, Cortez mouths the word "Move"...and nobody in the crowd is stupid enough to argue, all parting to the side. Cortez meanwhile grabs Maddix by the hair and drags him to his feet, gripping the hair in his hand tightly and twisting, leaving Maddix powerless to get away without pulling his precious hair out by the roots.

 

"Still feeling lucky?"

 

Suddenly, Cortez breaks into a run. Maddix has no choice but to run with him, the two making good ground and going a good nine or ten feet, before Cortez suddenly hurls Maddix forwards. Punters at the table immediately in front wail and dive for cover, as Landon flies past and OVER them, landing with a brutal thud on the green roulette table in front of him!! Chips fly upwards and to the side, Maddix skidding forward and bringing up the nice cloth. Cortez meanwhile walks casually (or, casually as possible) over to the table, sitting down as if nothing untoward is going on and looking up at the gawping worker standing at the roulette wheel.

 

"Gimme this fucker on 17."

 

"Uh...uhm, sir...we...we don't take...human bets."

 

"Fine..." sighs Cortez, reaching into Maddix suit pants and tipping his previously collected chips out. "...put these on 17 then. And, if I lose, you can take the fucker anyway."

 

With a shrug, the worker spins the wheel. While he's waiting, Cortez decides to reach forward and club Maddix with a forearm shot to the kidneys. The ball rolls around the wheel for what seems to be an age, long enough for Cortez to impatiently forearm Maddix's lower back again, before finally settling...on 6. Looking to his side at the wheel, Cortez shrugs his shoulders with a wry smirk.

 

"Ah well...you win some, you lose some."

 

Cortez shimmies around the table, over to where Maddix's head is pressed against the side of the table, which seems to have the slightest of dents in it. With hold of the hair again, Cortez pulls Maddix so that he's sitting on hands and knees, before reeling back and cracking Maddix with a hard right to the temple. Landon tumbles backwards across the table and ends up right where Todd had just come from. Not that that particularly worries The Urban Legend, as he decides to ease himself up and onto the roulette table with Maddix...making sure the table will support his and his opponent's weight before reach down, grabbing some more hair, tugging Landon up and teetering ever so slightly on the table. Some chips under Cortez's feet prompt him to stop, kicking them away to prevent any risk of slipping on the plastic disks, before hooking up a front facelock on La Cucaracha. Stepping around cautiously, Cortez turns so that he's facing lengthways across the table, with more table to land on as he grabs Maddix's tights, setting him up for a vertical suplex. Cortez gets Maddix up a few inches, but the frantic kicking of Landon's legs prevents him from taking the move all the way over. Trying again, The Urban Legend gets the same result. So he stops, releasing Maddix in order to club him over the back a couple of times. Suitably weakened, Maddix slumps again, prompting Cortez to begin to pull him up again...

 

 

 

 

...but suddenly, he experiences a little mortal rigor mortis, as Maddix gives him a firm, swift punch between the legs and in the balls!! Eyes bursting open, Todd collapses forward over Landon's shoulder and curls up into a fetal position, right beside Maddix who wipes the hair from his eyes...dropping a fistful of chips out of his right hand with a smirk.

 

"Man...Megan's really gonna be disappointed when you get back, eh Todd." chuckles Maddix breathlessly, flicking his hair away again and rolling off of the table and onto the safe casino floor. "Say, she's in Room 49, right?"

 

"How...the fuc.."

 

"Woah, woah, save your breath Todd." smiles Maddix, stepping back as Todd agonisingly swings a wild fist back at him. "Save your breath. How do I know? I've got my sources Todd. Say, did she come down to watch you get your ass kicked, or has she gone back to her room?"

 

Cortez growls in pain, trying to get up but failing.

 

"Thought so. She's probably feeling pretty lonely right now. And, uh...obviously, you'll be in no shape to tend to her when you get back."

 

"You son...of a...fucking bitch."

 

"Big words for such a small, insignificant man Todd."

 

As Cortez continues to try and fight back up, Maddix quickly fires off a forearm strike across the cut over his right hand.

 

"Now, seeing as you'll be in no shape...maybe I should go pay her a visit."

 

"You..bastard."

 

"Yep, that's me." chuckles Maddix. "I'll tell her you said 'Hi'."

 

With a smirk, Maddix decides to leave Cortez with a last parting shot...but Cortez manages to block the right hand, catching Maddix's right wrist in his hand! Shocked, Landon has no time to react, before Cortez suddenly yanks down, slamming Landon's arm over the side of the table!! A howl of pain escapes Maddix as he collapses out of sight, the camera rushing around the side to see Maddix rolling around in agony, clutching his arm and continuing to howl in pain. Both Maddix and Cortez are down, both hurting and both unable to capitalise on the others' injuries...

 

 

...as suddenly, the shot cuts to the other side of the casino. Infact, the Poker room. Sat at one of the tables, SWF referee Nicky Soapdish is feverishly scanning across his cards, hand rubbing his chin as he tries to plan out his next move. The others players around the table are similarly deep in concentration. But, unlike Nicky, they're not getting a neck rub from a young beauty in a low-cut, sparkling gold dress.

 

"What'chu think Leila?" whispers Soapdish. "Do I play, or fold."

 

"Well, I'm not sure. But I do know my name isn't Leila. It's Elanor."

 

"Whatever, bitch." quips Soapdish, picking up a large, Cuban cigar from the table and taking a hefty puff. "I'm not paying you to tell me your life story. I'm paying you because I don't want to lose all my money. That, and the neck rub. Which, by the way, is pretty super."

 

"Why, thank you Nick."

 

"I told you, call me Lord Powerwang!"

 

"Sorry...Lord Powerwang."

 

"Better. Now, what do you think I should do?"

 

"Well, if you play, that guy with the beard is going to beat you."

 

Soapdish glances up from his cards and across the table. Sitting directly opposite him, an old man with a large, scraggly grey beard has his best Poker face on. He must be feeling pretty confident, knowing the hand he has. But then again, he hasn't reckoned on Nick Soapdish.

 

"What's he got?"

 

"Straight Flush."

 

"He has?" Soapdish strains, still under his breath so as not to be heard. Looking up, he glances at the man again, before putting back up his cards. "Are you sure? If I had a Straight Flush, I'd look a lot happier 'bout it than he does."

 

"Yes...and that's why you're paying me, remember. So you don't lose again."

 

"...good point." whispers Soapdish one last time, before sounding up again so all can hear. "Yeah, I fold."

 

Suddenly, the door to the Poker Room opens and in rushes another noticeable figure. The figure of SWF referee Eddy Long, tapping Soapdish on the shoulder. Wheeling around, Soapdish glares at Long, who starts to gesticulate like mad (yeah, re-read it, dirty minded perverts).

 

"Nick, we need a ref for the Casino Brawl. You'll have to get out there!"

 

"Well, why can't you do it!?!"

 

"I'm busy."

 

"So am I, incase you hadn't notice."

 

Long glances at the table. "How much have you lost?"

 

"I'm winning, actually. Why can't the other two do it?"

 

 

Cut to John Trudel and Matthew Kivell, tied up crudely with rope on a hotel bed and giggling like schoolgirls, while two blondes stroll around the bed brandishing small whips.

 

 

"They're...busy too." replies Long sheepishly.

 

Groaning, Soapdish stands up and sighs. "Fine. But I swear, if Maddix tries anything...where are they anyway?"

 

"Last I saw, they were fighting on a roulette table somewhere. They're heading south though, so just head for the lobby. You're bound to find them eventually."

 

"Right."

 

Soapdish jogs off out of sight, the sound of the door to the Poker Room shutting behind him. Eddy watches on for a moment, before sitting in the vacated seat and kicking his feet up on the table in front, glancing up at the glamourous woman hovering over him.

 

"So, what's your name, sweetcheeks?"

 

 

 

Back on the casino floor meanwhile, the fight has re-started, with Maddix now giving up all existing will to fight Cortez and now resorting to trying to get the hell away again. Cortez is in hot pursuit of Maddix, who clutches his right arm with his left, Cortez still showing effects of the numerous lowblows as he limps ever so slightly in his pursuit. The two reach some more slot machines on their rampage through the casino, sending more and more people running for cover, but still managing to attract a lot of the patrons, like pied pipers to their fight. Cortez catches up with Landon and grabs him by the arm, turning him towards a machine and SLAMMING the arm down across the front! Trying to get away, Maddix gets grabbed again...this time, Cortez swinging the arm into the side of the outermost of the machines, the *thud* echoing around the nearby area.

 

"Now, THIS is for Megan..." growls Cortez, as he grabs Maddix's arm again and whips it around into the side of the machine a second time! Slumping down, Maddix sits against the side of the machine clutching his arm. Taking a series of backsteps, a determined smile appears on The Urban Legend's face, lining up Maddix before diving forwards, firing both feet into Landon's gut with a low dropkick! Maddix seems to be out and hurt. But with no referee, Cortez doesn't even bother about thinking of a pinfall, instead backing up and fixing his sights on dishing out some more punishment.

 

"And THIS..." Cortez growls again, as Maddix realises he's in trouble and tries to pull himself up. "...THIS is just because I hate your damn guts!"

 

Stooping low, Cortez is just waiting on Landon now as The Next Generation slowly brings himself to his feet. Using the machine to keep himself upright, Landon is back up. Cortez quickly sees him coming and sprints forward, diving forwards with the HOLLOW POOOOOOOOIIIINNTT...

 

 

 

 

 

 

*THUD!*

 

 

 

...BUT MADDIX MOVES, CORTEZ CRASHING HEAD AND SHOULDER-FIRST INTO THE SIDE OF THE MACHINE!!

 

Cortez slides slowly down the side of the machine, face pressed against the glowing, whirring hunk of metal and plastic, seeing stars. The cut above his right eye has opened up considerably now, as Maddix has the chance to once again try and create some distance between himself and Urban Legend. But, with Cortez hurting, bleeding, snoozing...Maddix decides that he might as well take his chance to beat on Cortez some more. Quickly he pushes the flat of his fancy shoe against Cortez's temple, s l o w l y raking across from the side, with an agonising 'boot'scrape that leaves Cortez cringing in pain and the blood begins trickling down his eyebrow that bit heavier.

 

"Come on Todd...don't tell me you're done already."

 

The mocking tone in Maddix's voice infuriates Cortez, enough to prompt him to try and get back up again. Maddix is waiting though, catching Todd on the way up, grabbing him across the head and slamming his head backwards into the machine's side, with another dull *THUD*.

 

"Is that all you've got, Toddy?" sneers Maddix once more, to the half conscious Urban Legend. "You're nothing without me! You're nothing without Van Siclen." Maddix kneels down, getting face to face with his hated rival. "YOU..ARE..NOTHING!!"

 

*PPHT*

 

Suddenly, Landon recoils, with a faceful of Cortez's phlegm! Wiping the spit from his face, a vile, sick expression takes over La Cucaracha's face, looking down at his now spit-covered hand and growling in disgust. Behind him, Cortez is still trying defiantly to get back up. Maddix quickly spins on his heels though and suddenly rams the flat of his boot into Cortez's forehead, crushing his head against the machine once more! Back to his seat slumps Cortez, while Maddix reaches above the machine, picking up a cup full of quarters that one terrified gambler had left behind. Slowly, Todd is allowed to pull himself up again, Maddix just waiting on him as he leans into the machine to stay upright, gaining his bearings and turning around...

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

...and Maddix smashes the full cup of metal directly into the forehead of Cortez!! The Urban Legend collapses instantly, eyes rolling into the back of his head, as some of the braver casino-goers scamper over to collect some loose quarters that flew from the cup on impact.

 

"Just like I said...nothing."

 

The smirk on Landon's face is almost as bright and illuminated as the flashing machines in front of him, as he confidently pulls the dazed Cortez off the casino floor, having to literally hold Todd up at the moment. The right arm of The Next Generation is still bothering and he seems to have a nasty but not too deep cut on his right bicep. But he ignores the pain and sits Cortez down on a stool in front of the beaten up slot machine. Cortez almost slumps over the back, but Maddix holds him upright. Stepping back, Landon measures The Urban Legend...but, with his right arm hurting, Landon has to swtich to his left...

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

...for a knifedge chop. Cortez, already having trouble sitting upright, promptly collapses over the back of the stool like a drunkard, landing hard on the back of his head. Meanwhile, the confused Maddix is wondering who in the hell in a casino would know to shout WHOOO for a chop. The answer? Nicky Soapdish.

 

"Just adding a little atmosphere." smiles Soapdish, as he emerges through the crowd to commence his refereeing duties.

 

"Yeah, well, how about you add some atmosphere by counting some pinfalls, douche?"

 

"Sure thing..." smiles Soapdish, waiting for Maddix to walk away from him before muttering under his breath. "...bitch."

 

Maddix meanwhile walks back over to the fallen Cortez. Picking up the stool from which Todd had just fallen, Landon turns the stool upside down so that the seat is facing down towards his opponent...before DRIVING it down into Cortez's sternum! The soft seat absorbs some of the blow, but Maddix still has enough force behind him to do some damage, as he drives the stool down into the sternum a second time! Cortez is motionless now. So Maddix decides to toss the stool to his side, dropping down onto Cortez with a lateral press...

 

 

"ONE!"

 

 

"TWO"

 

 

"TH... NO, NO, ONLY TWO LANDON!"

 

Glaring to his side, Maddix stares a hole through Soapdish. "Just my luck to get YOU as an official again."

 

"Nice shirt by the way." smiles Soapdish, pretending not to hear Maddix.

 

Ignoring his least favourite referee of the moment, Landon again drags Cortez to his feet. The Urban Legend isn't beat yet, firing off a desperation right hand as he reaches his knees. Doubling over, Maddix pauses for a moment...but eventually shakes himself back to life, firing up a short kneelift on Cortez. Head snapping back, the force of the knee sends Cortez rolling backwards and over onto his front, laying face down on the floor and looking dead to the world. Pulling himself up, Landon breathes a short sigh of relief, before glaring at Soapdish again.

 

"Before you say anything...it's salmon, not pink."

 

Maddix then charges forward and boots Cortez in the back of the head, leaving Soapdish to wonder why someone would even pretend pink was salmon, when everyone knows salmon is orange. But he keeps his opinions to himself, sticking to his refereeing job, as Landon slides across the floor, a basement dropkick catching Cortez in the right side of the head. Blood now stains the casino floor, from the wound over Todd's head. Maddix nonchalantly slides his foot under Todd's body like a spatula, flipping him over onto his back. Still looking completely dazed, Cortez somehow finds some semblance of awareness as he tries to get back to his feet. Maddix puts a stop to that though, grabbing a second stool and using it in the same way as the first, dropping it top down into Cortez's sternum. Satisfied that Cortez hurt enough, Maddix now sits the stool back where it was, in front of one of the machines. Turning around, it seems The Next Generation has Cortez right where he wants him. But for some reason, he doesn't go for a pin. Instead, after testing the stool for 'wobbliness', Maddix carefully begins to climb onto the stool. The people gathered around look on in confusion, as Maddix gets up onto the stool, just about keeping his balance...as he places on foot on the slot machine in front of him.

 

"What are you doing!?!" wails an elderly, blue-rinse slot jockey on the machine opposite, looking up in shock at this man climbing the machines, but not in enough shock to stop pumping quarters into her machine.

 

"What does it look like? I'm going up!"

 

"Get down ya stupid kid! You're bad luck!"

 

"Would you mind shutting your damn mouth?" snaps Maddix in response, little realising that behind him, Todd Cortez is stirring. "Balancing on these things is hard enough, without having some crazy old biddy mouthing off at me! Doesn't the old folks home close soon? Stupid old bi...WOAH!"

 

Suddenly, Maddix loses his footing as Todd Cortez is up, snatching the stool from underneath Maddix's left leg! Maddix manages to grip onto the machine and hang on, placing his left on the machine as well but still looking mighty precarious. Infact, there's nothing he can do, except hang on, as Cortez adjusts his grip on the stool and swings it like a damn ball bat..

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

...CAUSING THE LEGS TO SNAP, CRACK AND POP OVER MADDIX'S SPINE LIKE A CERTAIN BREAKFAST CEREAL!!!!

 

The gathered crowd gasp as Maddix's back arches. No longer able to hang onto the slot machine, Maddix falls backwards and to the casino floor once more, writhing agonisingly, unable to lay flat due to the spasms in his back. Standing over him, Cortez holds the upper half of the stool in his hands...the lower half broken clean off. Useless to him now. So, he turns and passes the remnaints to a nearby 'fan'.

 

"Here...have a seat."

 

*canned laughter*

 

With Maddix clearly hurt once more, Cortez takes the time to re-check his cut. Blood continues to trickle freely from the wound over his right eye, causing some impaired vision on the right side. A little cut isn't going to stop Cortez now though. Far from it. It's only going to fire him up more, as he reaches down and grasps Maddix's flowing mane, dragging his opponent up from the canvas. Furiously, Cortez wipes some more blood from his brow...and smearing it over Maddix previously pristine salmon colour shirt. Cortez then reels back and nails a vicious right hand, sending Landon staggering backwards. And, the fight is on the move again, down the rows and rows of slot machines as Cortez stays right on Maddix's tail and nails him with another right hand! Maddix collapses and tumbles past some more machines, sending more people scurrying for cover, leaving more people wondering what the hell is going on and why nobody is doing a thing to stop it. Soapdish stays close to the action, as Maddix gets to his knees and desperately begins to beg off, looking for some sort of compassion from Cortez. Cortez is wise to Maddix trickery though, not falling for the begging and BOOTING him flat in the face!! Down goes Maddix, flopping and flailing like a fish out of water, worried about his dashing good looks. Cortez is far from worried about them though, grabbing a passing waiter by the scruff of the neck and grabbing his tray of drinks.

 

"Hey!"

 

"Don't worry, just put it on the company bill."

 

 

*PANG!*

 

Cortez nails Maddix over the head with the tray, the drinks upon it flying haphazardly around but luckily not hitting anyone. A head shaped dent remains in the metal tray, as Cortez tosses it aside, dragging Maddix across the floor by the hair.

 

"Ah...not...not the...hair!" mumbles the groggy Maddix, only prompting Cortez to pull on the hair some more.

 

The slot machines have disappeared now and the brawl has approached the end of the casino, the doors out to the lobby in clear sight now. People out in the lobby can now get a view of the chaos and the wiser of them run for the hills, before the fight can get to them. The rest just stare in amazement, watching the bloody figure of Todd Cortez drag the groggy Landon Maddix to his feet. Scooping low, Cortez lifts Maddix off of his feet, relishing every moment of anticipation...before finally SLAMMING Maddix down onto the cold, hard casino floor to agonising moans from The Next Generation! The back of Landon Maddix is clearly hurting now, still unable to put any sort of pressure on it as he rolls onto his side. Cortez watches intently, in no rush as he waits for Maddix to pull himself back up.

 

"Your ass is mine..." Cortez mumbles under his breath, intently staring at Maddix still. Pulling himself to his feet, Maddix stumbles around with a hand clutched to his spine. Cortez meets him with a right hand, dazing Maddix, before grabbing him by the shirt collar and setting about tearing the shirt to shreds! Trying to get away, Landon only makes it worse and soon enough the shirt is nothing more than a few strands of cotton around the waist of La Cucaracha.

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

...allowing Cortez to lash Maddix's chest with a vicious knifedge chop. Maddix gasps for breath, as Cortez opens him up again...

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

...putting EVERYTHING he has into a second knifedge. The effects drop Landon to one knee, continuing to gasp and splutter for breath. Todd again grabs some hair to pull Maddix up, opening up his body a third time. This time though, it's for a European uppercut, sending Landon tumbling backwards dramatically, right over towards the doors to the lobby.

 

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere." chastises Cortez as he walks over, grabbing Maddix by the hair to drag him back up. Suddenly though, Maddix shocks him, applying a front chancré and cradling Cortez over with a modified small package...

 

 

"ONE!"

 

 

"TWO"

 

 

"T...TWO COUNT!" signals Soapdish, Maddix unable to keep Cortez cradled. Looking a little dis-orientated for a moment, Cortez goes the wrong way at first, allowing Landon to crawl away a little closer to the door. Pretty soon Cortez has his bearings though, turning quickly to grab Maddix, stopping him from escaping. As he grabs him though, Maddix thinks quickly, yanking back on the arm and irish whipping Cortez forward. But, with a quick turn of the body, Cortez is able to reverse the whip, hurling Maddix forward and towards the doors with tremendous velocity...

 

 

 

 

 

*CRAAAASH!*

 

 

...SENDING MADDIX HEAD-FIRST THROUGH ONE OF THE GLASS PANELS ON THE DOOR!!!!!!!!

 

"AAAAHHHHH! AHHHHHHHAAHAHH!"

 

Falling out of the hole in the glass, the screaming of people in the lobby is not enough to cover the wails of pain on Landon Maddix's part. Holding his head in his hands, Maddix falls to his back and looking in horror as blood begins to trickle from numerous nicks and cuts all over his face, hands and upper torso! Cortez watches on from a few feet away and looks genuinely shocked at what he's done, glancing from the broken door to the quivering La Cucaracha, before back to the door again.

 

"Okay, okay...everyone stay back!" yells Nicky Soapdish finally, through cupped hands, assuming control. "Everyone keep back. You too Cortez."

 

"Ri..right, right."

 

"You okay Landon?"

 

Soapdish kneels at Maddix side, checking on him. Clearly, this isn't a situation Maddix is too used to...and, he can be forgiven for his over-reacting wails and howls. Blood must be coming from at least fifteen to twenty cuts on Maddix's chest alone from the flying shards, while a gruesome gash has been opened up on his forehead, causing deep red blood to just ooze out. Cortez stays back and watches on, the accusing glares of pretty much everyone who saw what happened fixed on him.

 

"Landon...it's okay, it's just a few cuts." assures Soapdish, trying to calm Maddix down. "If you wanna quit, I call this off right now."

 

"A...a..am..."

 

"Okay, okay, slow down."

 

"Am...am I...going to die?"

 

"Or, for crying out loud." Cortez finally groans, shoving Soapdish aside and pulling the drama queen to his feet by the hair.

 

 

Pushing open a door that's still intact, Cortez continues to tug on the hair as he steps out of the casino, dragging Maddix out into the lobby knees and bloodied hands. Blood continues to drip from Maddix's forehead onto the shiny lobby floor, Maddix actually injured underneath his whiney exterior. But Cortez has had weeks and weeks, waiting for this match, waiting for this moment. And if Maddix is going to wail and scream, then Cortez wants to give him to really wail and scream about. Maddix collapses onto all fours and stops, as Cortez releases the hair, reaching down and yanking Landon's belt off from around his waist. Cortez then hooks the belt under Landon's jaw and around his throat, choking him with the leather strap!! The blood flows a little faster as a result of Maddix's sudden struggle. Cortez is meanwhile over Maddix's back and begins to tie the belt up, creating a makeshift noose with the strap and tightening it up around the neck, leaving La Cucaracha choking and spluttering as he pulls back. The sickening sight of Landon's forehead gushing blood, while being choked with a leather belt causes many watching to turn away in horror and disgust. The blonde mane is growing redder and redder, presumably some cuts opened up on the top of the head as well as the forehead. Cortez meanwhile releases his grip on the belt, little sollace to Maddx who is still being choked by the tied belt. Frantically he pulls the buckle from the notch of the belt to free himself, gasping for much needed breath while staring down in shock at the pool of blood beneath his face.

 

"Landon, do you wanna give up?" Soapdish asks again. The only response he gets is heavy breathing from Maddix, who presumably doesn't hear Soapdish in his dis-orientated, blood losing state. Before he can formulate a response, Cortez walks back over and pulls Maddix to his feet. Cortez then breaks into a run, bringing Landon all the way with him and hurling him head-first into a wall! Slumping against the wall, Landon slides unconsciously down towards the floor, leaving long streaks of bright red blood on the otherwise clean wall.

 

"You brought this on yourself, you son of a bitch!" Cortez reminds his foe as he boots him hard in the gut, Maddix sat with his back to the wall, unable to defend himself.

 

"This is your fault, not mine!" Another boot slams into Landon's mid-drift.

 

"No remorse!" Another boot.

 

"Any means neccessary!" Another boot, as Cortez is now quoting old Martial Law mottos, just to add some insult to considerable injury.

 

"Whatever it takes!" Another boot! And fired up, Cortez snaps away from Landon, a look of sheer intensity on his face as he wipes some of Maddix's blood from his body. Cortez takes another check on his own war wound, seemingly insiginifcant now, compared to the gaping would on Maddix's forehead, but still bothering Todd all the same. Shaking it off, Cortez walks back over and brings the helpess La Cucaracha to his feet. Cortez again cups Maddix behind the head and drags him through the lobby, his destination not clear, as he eventually throws Landon into another part of the wall. This time Maddix recoils and collapses backwards, right at Cortez's feet. Todd looks down and, whether through remorse or not, he drops down and makes his first pin attempt of the match...

 

 

"ONE!"

 

 

"TWO"

 

 

"TH..."

 

CORTEZ PULLS MADDIX UP!

 

"Come on, Todd!" pleads Soapdish. But Cortez ignores him, looking down at Maddix and slowly but surely mouthing something, making sure Landon can clearly distinguish it.

 

"We're not...done...yet."

 

Horror fills the eyes of Maddix again, as Cortez drags him to his feet once more. Still Cortez has Landon cupped behind the head, as he sprints off forward and brings Landon all the way with him once more. With a decorative pot plant sitting by the wall a few feet ahead, Cortez hurls Maddix off...

 

 

 

...but from nowhere, Maddix manages to wheel around and use his momentum to reverse, sending Cortez skidding into the base of the pot, striking the back of his head hard!! Still Landon is breathing heavily, the blood loss affecting him worse than it would someone who's accustomed to bleeding heavily night in and night out. He manages to focus himself though, collapsing over Cortez with a desperate pin attempt...

 

 

 

"ONE!"

 

 

"TWO"

 

 

"THR...NO, TWO!"

 

Looking up, mouth agape, Maddix is despairing now as he pulls himself up...only to collapse to the side straight away. Now knowing that he's unable to stand, things are even more desperate for The Next Generation as he glances to his side, seeing Todd Cortez recovering. Maddix panics and knows that if he's going to get away, he has to get away NOW, so sets off, crawling frantically through the lobby with all the energy and awareness he has left in him. As Landon crawls away, the camera decides it's best to follow him, jogging down the hallways behind Maddix. Getting a little way down the lobby, Maddix tries to stand and run again, stumbling off groggily to the left before careering back to the right, unable to keep in a straight line as he tries in desperation to get away. Reaching his physical limit seemingly, Maddix drops to his hands and knees, panting breathlessly. He's gotten a decent way down the lobby, through a combination of crawling, staggering and getting thrown around by Cortez. And now, looking to his left, Maddix finally realises where he is.

 

The place he's been for most of the week since arriving in Las Vegas.

 

The salon.

 

"Oh...thank God."

 

Crawling off, Maddix has the Spa, Salon and Fitness Center in his sights and seeming refuge...giving him newfound energy.

 

 

Back down the lobby, Todd Cortez is back up...but he's lost sight of his opponent, much to his frustration. Soapdish beside Cortez and looks off into the distance.

 

"Where'd he go Nicky."

 

"Well...he went that way, but I lost sight of him."

 

"How could you lose sight of him?"

 

"Well, there's a lot of people around..."

 

"A lot of people bleeding like pigs and wearing stripey pants?"

 

"Good point."

 

"If he's smart, he'll have got in his car and driven as far away as possible." mutters Cortez under his breath, while looking down the lobby for signs of Maddix. As he does so, his gaze lowers to the floor, where a thin trail of blood snakes off down the lobby, in the direction Maddix had staggered. Slowly, Cortez smiles, as he points out the trail to Soapdish. "Let's go."

 

 

The camera shot suddenly cuts to the inside of the on-site Salon, where everything is calm and quiet for now. That soon changes though, as the bloody figure of Landon Maddix stumbles through the door. Busy working on one woman's hair, a young hairdresser glances up absent-mindedly and doesn't get a good look, but enough of one.

 

"Hi Landon." the girl smiles sweetly, obviously familiar with the SWF's Next Generation. "We weren't expecting you today, what with your match and all. So, how did it go?"

 

"Uhm...well..."

 

"Not good, huh?" the girl sighs, still busy. "Well, don't you worry. We'll sit you down and sort your hair out, you can tell me all about it...after all, that's what we're here for. So, what is it? The usual trim and blow dr...OH MY GOD!!"

 

*CLANG*

 

The horrified hairdresser finally looks up and, seeing Maddix bleeding profusely and lounged (read: collapsed) in a chair motionless, drops her scissors and holds his hands to her mouth in shock. Maddix quickly stands up to try and calm her down, only to lose his footing and collapse to his right again.

 

"It's...it's okay."

 

"What happened. It looks like someone tried to kill you, Landon!"

 

"...funny you should say that." mumbles Landon, almost incoherently. "Listen...don't...don't panic. I'll be fine. I...just need you...to hide me."

 

"Hide you?"

 

"Yeah. Just act like everything's normal and it'll be fine."

 

Too scared to do anything else, the young girl shakily picks her scissors back up, the customer seated in front of her not looking thrilled with the prospect of having his hair cut by a quivering wreck.

 

"Oh, and...when I get myself out here...and cleaned up...can you book me in for a facial and massage, please?"

 

"...sure."

 

 

Back out of the salon we go, as Todd Cortez and Nick Soapdish continue to follow the blood trail and have found it suddenly stop, leaving both looking a little confused. Soapdish is looking around while Cortez paces, frustrated that his opponent has got away. Eventually though, with a tap on the back, Soapdish points out the Spa, Salon and Fitness Center out to Cortez's left. Taking one look, Cortez grins, shaking his head slightly.

 

"You've got to be kidding. He's not even trying."

 

Cortez quickly jogs over and bursts through the door, looking around for where to go. Into the salon goes Cortez, glancing around and curiously, seeing no sign of Landon Maddix. Just a blood stained chair. To his right, the hairdresser from before is back to her hair cutting duties...still shaking somewhat and not looking at all convincing as she looks up and asks "Can I help you."

 

"Yeah, you can tell me where Maddix is."

 

"I'm sorry, I don't know a Landon Maddix."

 

"Look, he's got blond hair, about five foot ten, scrawn...wait...I didn't say Landon Maddix." Cortez realises, as the hairdresser tries to look inconspicuous. "I just said 'Maddix', not 'Landon Maddix'."

 

"No you didn't."

 

"Yes, I did. Where is he?"

 

"I really don't know wha..."

 

"Listen..." growls Cortez, getting impatient. "I'm a nice guy, but if you're covering for that son of a bitch, then you'r..."

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

Suddenly, Maddix emerges from the proverbial reeds, catching Cortez in the back of the head with a Maddix-Kick!! Cortez collapses into the salon customer in the seat in front of him, the customer scurrying for cover, while Maddix drags Cortez off the chair and to the floor for a pin...

 

 

"COUNT IT!!"

 

 

 

"ONE!"

 

 

"TWO"

 

 

"THRE...NO, SHOULDER UP!!"

 

 

"WHAT!?!"

 

"He got his shoulder up, Landon. Only two."

 

Bugging out, Maddix scrambles dis-orientatedly to his feet, staggering all over the place as he glares down at Cortez, encouraging him to get to his feet.

 

"Come on you son of a bitch. Get up!"

 

Slowly but surely, The Urban Legend leans onto the seat of the chair and pulls himself up, Maddix standing and waiting, looking absolutely drained but determined to find one more batch of energy from somewhere. Cortez pulls himself up, groggy from the last kick, turning around into the second...

 

 

 

...NO! Cortez ducks and Maddix ends up collapsing forward, tumbling into the chair. Cortez turns around and with Maddix sat out in front of him, suddenly explodes, with a flurry of right hands on the trapped Next Generation. Right hand after right hand slam into Maddix's blood soaked forehead as Cortez unleashes a ferocious flurry that leave Landon sprawled in the seat. Leaving Maddix where he is, Cortez steps back, treading on the pedal at the back of the seat, automatically lowering the seat with a jerky bump for Landon. Grabbing the back, Cortez then pulls with all his might, spinning Maddix around...

 

 

...and around...

 

 

...and around...

 

 

 

 

...and around...

 

 

 

 

 

...and around...

 

 

 

...before letting Maddix come to a stop. Now dizzy to go with every other ailment he's suffering, Maddix slumps back in his seat, eyes darting around in dis-orientation with his arms flailing around groggily. Cortez meanwhile backs up, crouching down and lining Maddix up, ready seemingly for a Superkick of his own...but suddenly, he gets grabbed by the young hairdresser!

 

"Please, don't..."

 

"Get OFF me!" yells Cortez, shoving the small woman back in his determination, sending her flying across the salon floor. Cortez shows momentary sorrow again for another heat of the battle move. But he soon gets back to his senses and back on the offence, abandoning the kick attempt and instead walking at Maddix...

 

 

 

 

 

...AND GETTING SPRAYED IN THE EYES BY SOME SORT OF HAIR PRODUCT!!!!

 

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

Cortez screams out and clutches at his face. With shampoo of some sort in his eyes, in his face, in the cut above his eyebrow, Todd writhes in pain, kicking his feet furiously in pain as he falls to his knees. Maddix tosses away the bottle and carefully eases out of the seat, backing up as far as he can go...before suddenly diving forward...

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

...slamming his unprotected knee into the skull of Todd Cortez with a SHINING WIZAAAAAARRDD~!

 

Cortez collapses back, still writhing from his stinging eyes, but looking knocked out of his senses as Maddix drops down, cradling him into a tight pinfall. Soapdish looks down, seeing Cortez in agony...and, realises he has no choice but to count.

 

 

"ONE!"

 

 

"TWO"

 

 

"THREE!! IT'S OVER!"

 

 

Releasing the cradle, Maddix collapses back and raises a weak, bloody arm in victory, trying to pull himself up. Soapdish is obviously concerned about Cortez and drops down beside him, yelling for someone to "Get some water." as Cortez continues to groggily writh around on the floor. But, Maddix pulls Soapdish away, turning him around and pointing to his wrist.

 

"Raise my hand!" asserts Maddix, Soapdish complying as Maddix wipes some bloody hair from his eyes. "Now, announce it."

 

"Your winner of the match, Landon Maddix. Now, somebody get that wate..."

 

"Announce it again, damn it!"

 

"C'mon, he could be blinded..."

 

"Do you think I give a crap!?!" yells Maddix. "Announce it like you mean it!"

 

Soapdish sighs.

 

"Your winner of this match...LANDON MADDIX!!"

 

A smile appears over Maddix's face, mugging for the camera in front of him as finally someone in the salon has gotten off their ass and fetched some water. Soapdish quickly sits Cortez up, trying to wash the shampoo out of Cortez's eyes. Maddix watches on, smirking at his handiwork, having to drop down to one knee though as the blood loss gets to him again. Still Soapdish tries desperatly to flush the stinging liquid from Cortez's bloodshot, red eyes...but suddenly, Maddix knocks the water bottle out of Soapdish's eyes, shoving him out of the way and kneeling in front of Cortez.

 

"Better luck next time, Todd. Oh and, by the way...if you want to find me between now and 10:30...I'll be in Room 49..." smiles Maddix. "...I'll tell Megan you said hi, in between licks."

 

"You fuckin..."

 

Cortez swings out wildly and blindly, Maddix avoiding the swing and leaving Cortez with one last right hand to the jaw, before staggering off out of the camera shot and away to go get himself some medical assistance himself. Meanwhile, Soapdish is quickly back over to try and get some water into Cortez's eyes, having to restrain Todd from trying to get some more of Maddix. Finally, Cortez gives in, allowing Soapdish to do his job...while making sure to make one thing very clear.

 

"It's not over. Not...by a long shot."

[Ace309 0]

FADE IN.

 

A thunderous roar of cheers erupts from the crowd in Las Vegas as Ground Zero returns to the Grand Ballroom after the Casino Brawl. Knowing what match comes next the fans are already on the edges their seats, excited by the prospect of a local hero returning for the ultimate prize in this business. Numerous signs of support can be seen. One phrase – “Vegas, Home of the Beautiful People” – is a slogan that can be seen across many of them while others display more original phrases.

 

Finally, on the giant screen overhead, the prominent ‘Ground Zero’ logo fades away as the images of two men come across the screen. On the left side stands a shorter man of oriental descent with the SWF World Heavyweight Championship over his shoulder. There is only one look…one expression on his face, and that is one of determination. Below him it reads:

 

“EJIRO FASAKI”

 

To the right stands a man that this city has come to know and love—a real class act that this crowd is proud to get behind. As usual, a pair of high-tech sunglasses adorns his face, but unlike past times it’s not the smooth face that we’ve come to know, rather one with a good five o’clock shadow and a devilish smile. Below him it reads:

 

“JOHNNY DANGEROUS”

 

“Finally, the moment is upon us!” exclaims Longdogger Pete. “After a tremendous show that’s stretched two continents we’ve come down to the final match of the evening – the World Heavyweight Championship match and this crowd is simply excited to see this one go down in the history books!”

 

“Count me in as part of that excited crowd,” says Comet. “It’s been a long journey for both of these men on the road to Ground Zero and I think they might be just as relieved to settle this once and for all themselves!”

 

“Indeed,” agrees Pete. “Johnny Dangerous and Ejiro Fasaki are both coming into this match with something to prove. I know Ejiro is sick and tired of upper management claiming that he isn’t good enough for the World title and trying to purposely make him seem like less of a Champion than he is by forcing him to defend the title in the undercard of recent shows, not the main event like Champions of the past have always gotten. Hell, he even had to defend the belt against a friggin’ robot!”

 

“A robot that nearly had Fasaki beat!” Riley interjects. “Another second or two and it’d be Ghost Machine sitting at the top of this Federation! That alone has got to prove to everyone that Sweet Cheeks…err Tom Flesher was right about Fasaki – he’s not main event or World Champion material! Rule without Justice is a curtain jerking act!”

 

“Foul, cries me!” roars Comet. “Citizen Fasaki is obviously World Champion material given the simple fact that he is indeed the reigning World Heavyweight Champion. Now, on the other hand of things, Agent Dangerous is coming into this match ready to unload half a year of frustration onto the World Champion in his attempt to claim the prize as his own. I think the real question here is who has the stronger will power to forge on and not give up during the course of this match?”

 

“Johnny Dangerous has already claimed that he is willing to do anything that it takes to win,” notes Pete, “but I’ve got to wonder…with the way the Barracuda has been acting lately, how far is he willing to go?”

 

“Don’t even go there, Robert,” Comet scolds his announcing cohort as Riley opens his mouth. “To answer your question, Pete, I’m not really sure given the unpredictable state we’ve seen Agent Dangerous in lately. However, he needs to realize that in order to win the title he has got to beat Ejiro Fasaki by pinfall or submission. A disqualification or count out will do him no good here so there is only so far he can really press his luck before costing himself everything in front of his hometown.”

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

The ringing of the timekeeper’s bell draws all the attention towards the ring where Funyon, sporting a glittery black tuxedo, stands. Slowly, the house lights dim as a single, solitary spotlight shines down on the ring announcer. He carefully makes a final review of the index cards in his hands, shuffles them, and then draws the microphone to his lips.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he bellows, “this...is your MAIN EVENT!”

 

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

“The following match is scheduled for ONE FALL and is for the SMARTMARK WRESTLING FEDERATION HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP…of the WOOOOOOOOOORLD!”

 

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

As expected, the ring announcer temporary halts his introductions as the fans let out a huge pop! They settle back down and Funyon continues, “Introducing first, the challenger…”

 

All eyes quickly dart towards the stage as a hush comes over the crowd and they wait for his entrance. Silence ensues for several more seconds and then finally, a voice picks up on the speakers, whispering a name in a deep, sultry voice…

 

“JOHNNY DANGEROUS~!”

 

…and the Grand Ballroom erupts as ‘After the Flesh’ thunders through the speakers! From the sides of the stage comes a rolling cloud of smoke, concealing most of the entrance area from view. Fans closest to the stage try their hardest to see if they can catch a glimpse of their hometown hero moving through the haze. Their struggle is made much easier when a series of strobes fire up, flashing in perfect harmony with the music, illuminates the figure of Johnny Dangerous as he strolls out from backstage and finally emerges from the smoke, at the top of the stage!

 

“RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!”

 

Not a single fan is left sitting. Everyone is on their feet cheering their hearts out, despite the recent developments with the Barracuda that could possibly turn some noses north. None of that matters right now because Johnny Dangerous has finally come home to win the World Championship and his people—the beautiful people—were most certainly going to be with him every step of the way.

 

“JOOOOHN-E!”

“JOOOOHN-E!”

“JOOOOHN-E!”

“JOOOOHN-E!”

“JOOOOHN-E!”

 

“Will you just listen to these fans!” shouts Pete, completely beside himself. “Coming into this match the Barracuda has almost made me doubt his integrity and I feel I’m not alone on that stance! His plea to the people of Las Vegas to understand that he was doing what he felt he had to do in order to become World Heavyweight Champion here tonight—right of wrong—has definitely worked!”

 

“It’s not like the people haven’t been cheering for this guy all along,” says Riley. “Besides, the only thing you have against him is the fact that he may have cost Wildchild the World title and that was only for the better anyway!”

 

“Who’s to say it would have been better?” Comet questions his announcing partner, “maybe Agent Dangerous did it because he felt that he couldn’t beat Wildchild.”

 

“Whatever the reason it was definitely selfish,” adds LDP. “Let’s just hope that was a one time screw up by the Barracuda and not an indication of things to come.”

 

After a moment of surveying his fans from the top of the ramp Johnny begins to waltz down towards the ring, and when he steps forward the crowd bursts with another loud pop!

 

“From LAS VEGAS, NEVADA,” bellows Funyon, adding some extra weight to his naming of Johnny’s hometown, “and weighing in at two hundred-twenty five pounds. He is a former World Cruiserweight Champion, former United States Champion, two-time former Intercontinental Champion, former International Champion, four-time co-holder and REIGNING World Tag Team Champion, and a former World Heavyweight Champion! He is…JOHNNY ‘THE BAAARRAAACUDAAAAAAAA’ DAAAAAANGEROOUUUS!!”

 

Johnny slides into the ring, climbs a corner post, and pumps his fist to the crowd as flash bulbs explode from all sides of the arena. He steps down from the post and heads towards the side of the ring as his music finally fades out.

 

POPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOP!!

 

The rapid firing, machine gun-like pyrotechnics that announces the arrival of Ejiro Fasaki begins, leading into the thumping sounds of the ‘Crazy 88 Theme’. Even before the arrival of the World Champion to the stage these fans start to rile against him with a boo, which only gets more heated when Ejiro swipes aside the curtains and steps out onto the stage!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

The reaction is something Ejiro was more than prepared for. He knew coming into this, when he announced that he’d defend his title in Vegas that the fans would not be on his side, but rather lined up to support his challenger. Still, the chant of the crowd is a little more than disheartening and he softly sighs to himself before straighten up his posture and marching straight down the ramp.

 

“F-U FASAKI!”

“F-U FASAKI!”

“F-U FASAKI!”

“F-U FASAKI!”

 

“Will you just listen to this crowd!” shouts Pete. “I think it was obvious from Johnny’s entrance as to whose side these fans would be on, but I never expected them to rip into the World Champion like this! Ejiro’s got a very tough match ahead of him!”

 

“Indeed,” agrees Riley, smiling with a wide-toothed grin. “I mean I wasn’t banking on Fasaki to be able to pull out a win here tonight to begin with, but it’s going to be hard for him to even think in here tonight. I know plenty of people will say the fans mean nothing but I think it’s got to be a detriment to his morale.”

 

“Possibly so but Citizen Fasaki is coming down here with something to prove,” Comet reminds Riley. “He’s had all the odds stacked against him for his entire reign as World Heavyweight Champion and he wants to show the world that not only is he deserving of this title, but he is a fighting Champion as well!

 

“AAAAAAAND his opponent,” bellows Funyon. “From Sarasota, Florida, and weighing in at two hundred-twenty pounds; he is a former United States Champion, a former two time co-holder of the World tag team Championship and he is the REIGNING SMARTMARK WRESTLING FEDERATION WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIOOOOOOOON…EJIROOOOOOOOOOOOOO FAAAAASAAAKIIIIIIII!!!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

Sliding into the ring, Ejiro waste no time popping up to his feet and holding the title belt out to the referee. He’s waited all night to finally prove the Barracuda wrong once and for all and he isn’t about to waste his time playing to the crowd that refuses to show him any heed. Ronald ‘Red’ Herrington, the official for this match takes the World Title from Fasaki, shows it to Johnny then raises it out to the fans, letting them feast their eyes on the coveted prize before finally turning it over to a ringside assistant. He calls the two men to the center of the ring, making one last run down of the rules though neither man is even listening. They step towards each other, standing nose-to-nose as Herrington rambles on. Finally, the referee signals to the timekeeper to ring the bell.

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

The fans buzz with energy as the bell sounds off. However, inside the ring, Ejiro and Johnny stand motionless. Johnny says a few words that aren’t quite audible to Fasaki causing the World Champion’s eyes to narrow as he regards his Challenger…

 

CRACK!

 

“OOOOOH!”

 

…and Johnny cuts across the World Champion’s cheek with a tremendous backhand, sending a stream of spit flying out of the side of Fasaki’s mouth as he staggers back with a hand to his face!

 

“HERE WE GO! HERE WE GO!” exclaims Comet as Johnny closes the gap between him and the Champion, drawing back his fist. He swings but Ejiro isn’t about to simply stand there and let Dangerous take one pop-shot after the next. Rolling through the punch, Ejiro comes up behind Dangerous and quickly snatches him by his waist, lifts up and brings the Barracuda down on all fours with a quick, aggressive takedown! Johnny quickly scrambles to get out of this situation, fearing…knowing he doesn’t stand a chance trying to wrestle Ejiro Fasaki on the mat, but the Champion continues to press on and try as he might to lock the Barracuda in any hold that he can get. Ejiro reaches for an under-hook but Johnny rolls backwards to escape, forcing the Champion to lock around the Barracuda’s waist once more to keep him from completely escaping and then lifts him up for another takedown that puts Dangerous on his knees. Rolling back once more, Johnny tries to fend Fasaki off but Ejiro holds on still as the Barracuda rolls up to his feet and reaches to grab onto the ropes – the World Champion still holding on. Herrington orders the break and gets it with Fasaki carefully backpedaling away from Johnny while the Barracuda still holds onto the ropes for safety.

 

“Ejiro Fasaki shows his dominance in mat wrestling from the start,” notes Pete. “Though Johnny has shown he can hold on in this aspect he certainly isn’t equipped to handle Fasaki on the mat.”

 

“Several shows back we saw Agent Dangerous take on another ‘Hooker’—Citizen Francis—and we saw how terrified he was of that cobra clutch,” recalls Comet. “Perhaps Ejiro took note of this as well and knows that if he can keep Johnny on the mat, wear him down, and lock on that clutch, he’ll have his title defense in the bag.”

 

A small round of applause comes from the crowd for this demonstration of skill from Ejiro as he finally stops halfway across the ring from Johnny. Finally, Dangerous steps off the ropes, flush red, and begins to circle Ejiro. They make half a circle before rushing together and locking up with a collar-and-elbow tie up, fighting for purchase. Slightly stronger, Johnny manages to get the upper hand, taking Fasaki’s arm back and into a hammerlock before floating around and grabbing the Champion in a headlock. Johnny clamps down on Ejiro’s skull then swings him over to the mat, on his back, with a side-headlock-takedown then tightens down further!

 

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

“It looks like the Barracuda is showing Ejiro that he can keep up with him on the mat, after all,” gloats Riley.

 

“With a very basic takedown,” adds Pete. “Like I mentioned earlier, Johnny has shown that he can work a body part into a submission but he’s fooled himself if he thinks he can compete at Ejiro’s level on the mat.”

 

Ejiro starts flailing his arms as Johnny keeps his hold locked on, trying to squirm free to no avail. He reaches around Johnny’s waist and suddenly rolls the Barracuda over onto his shoulders!

 

ONE!

 

 

And nothing more as Johnny easily rolls back over to get his shoulders off the mat, still holding tightly to Ejiro’s skull. Dangerous rolls Fasaki onto his back and takes his turn at the count…

 

ONE!

 

 

But Ejiro quickly pulls his shoulder off the mat. Now the headlock isn’t clamped down as tight and before Johnny can reassert himself the Champion rolls onto his knees and pushes up to a vertical base. Once up Ejiro pulls Johnny back with him into the ropes and then uses the momentum coming off of them to finally shove the Barracuda away, freeing himself from the headlock! Both men head to opposite ends of the ring, bouncing off the ropes and coming back towards each other…

 

WHAM!

 

…and Ejiro floors the Barracuda with a quick drop kick to the chest! Ejiro rolls up to his knees – slowed somewhat from having his head crushed by Dangerous he just watches his opponent clutch his chest while kicking his feet into the mat before finally heading towards Johnny and covering him for…

 

 

ONE!

 

 

…and nothing more as Johnny easily shoots his shoulder off the mat! Both men pop back up to their feet and Dangerous charges in only to get taken back over to the mat with an armdrag takeover! Back to his feet, Ejiro closes in on Johnny as he pushes up to his feet, looking for a lariat, but the Barracuda returns the armdrag takeover and sends Fasaki into the canvas!

 

“Shades of Ricky ‘the Steamboat’ Dragon!” exclaims Comet. Johnny quickly pops up to his feet and assumes a fighting stance against the World Champion, drawing out a huge cheer from his fans. Ejiro--a safe distance away from his challenger--pushes up to his feet, not once taking his eyes off of Johnny Dangerous.

 

“This match has certainly been a little less bloodthirsty coming out of the gate than what I was expecting,” says Riley. “These two have played a rather safe game so far.”

 

“It’s been a while since Johnny and Ejiro have competed against each other solo,” says LDP. “However, I know both of these men are very capable of getting nasty if the opportunity arises and I fully expect it to head that way the second one of them gets pissed.”

 

Johnny bolts towards Fasaki and swings his arm out for a lariat, but Ejiro ducks under and rolls behind then draws his arm back and…

 

SMACK! “WHOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

…catches Johnny in the chest with a chop as he spins back around to face the Champion! Johnny staggers back with a hand to his chest, caught by surprise with the chop before Fasaki grabs him by the arm and steps forward to send Johnny across the ring with an Irish Whip… NO! Johnny quickly digs his feet into the canvas and reverses, sending the Champion across the ring, towards the corner post instead! Johnny starts to chase after Ejiro but suddenly stops when Fasaki doesn’t run into the post, but rather leaps up to the second rope in the corner before jumping back…

 

CRACK!

 

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

…and Johnny jumps up and levels the World Champion with a drop kick to the back of the head!

 

“OH!” Comet winces at the impact, “that was an absolutely drop kick to the back of our World Champion’s head! I think that might just be the beginning of the end for what was a competitive yet rather friendly match between these two rivals.”

 

“Possibly,” Pete reaffirms with a nod of his head. “It was only a matter of time, anyway. There is way too much bad blood between these two and way too much for them to prove against one another for this match to not get ugly!”

 

Back to his feet, Johnny smiles as he watches Fasaki holding his head in pain and then raises his arm out to the crowd, getting a huge pop in return. He smiles, knowing his support is strong.

 

“JOHN-E!”

“JOHN-E!”

“JOHN-E!”

“JOHN-E!”

“JOHN-E!”

 

“Not to mention,” adds Riley, “that this crowd is so behind Johnny Dangerous that it’ll be nearly impossible for Ejiro to catch any kind of a break here tonight. This is the kind of environment that’ll bring out the worst in men.”

 

Johnny casually strolls back towards the Champion and pulls him up to his feet with a quick arm wrench then sends him barreling across the ring with another Irish whip, but this time flinging him to the ropes. Ejiro springs back off the ropes to the Challenger, who bends over to send the Champion through the air with a back body drop but only gets a stiff kick to the forehead for his efforts!

 

CRACK!

 

“Ejiro had that one scouted,” declares Pete. “That’s the kinds of things that’ll cause you to loose this match, and if Johnny wants to win he’s going to have to step it up a bit.”

 

The fans boo ferociously as the Barracuda stumbles back from the shot—hand to his throbbing forehead—before Rule storms in and floors Dangerous with a running forearm smash!

 

WHAM!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TW-NOO!! Johnny kicks out!

 

“There was a ton of authority behind that kick out,” notes Comet. “So far this match has seen Johnny in control for the majority, but now I think we’re about to see the Champion take his lead back.”

 

Pulling Johnny up to his feet by his hair, Ejiro aims to do just that and promptly slices the back of his hand across Dangerous chest with several knife-edged chops!

 

SMACK! “WHOOOOOOOOOO!”

SMACK! “WHOOOOOOOOOO!”

SMACK! “WHOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Johnny dazedly stumbles back, reeling from the stinging shots to his now beet-red chest, and Fasaki takes off across the ring, trying to build some steam! He hits the ropes and comes rocketing back towards the Barracuda, slamming into, and flooring him with a running shoulder block! Once more Fasaki bolts back across the ring as Dangerous pushes back up to his feet. However, Johnny sees Rule coming back off the ropes towards him and quickly swings his arm out for a huge lariat…

 

WHOOSH~!

 

…But Fasaki ducks under the Secret Agent’s arm to avoid it, the momentum sending Johnny spinning around on his heel and making it rather easy for the World Champion to lock his arms around Dangerous chest before sending him through the air with an overhead belly-to-belly suplex!

 

WHAM!

 

Ejiro quickly dives in to cover his opponent for…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TW-NOO!! Johnny thrusts his shoulders off the mat and rolls onto his stomach. Before he can push up to his feet on his own power, though, Ejiro grabs the Barracuda by his jet-black mane, drags him to his feet, and then whips him towards the corner post! No! Once more Dangerous is able to reverse the whip and he sends Fasaki to the corner instead. Johnny chases after the Champion, hoping to catch him with an avalanche, but Ejiro manages to get his foot up in time to prevent himself from going chest-first into the steel post then quickly swings his elbow back, catching the Challenger directly in the face!

 

CRACK!

 

Johnny stumbles a few steps back before falling flat on his back, dazed from another shot to the head.

 

“Ejiro’s managed to get the Barracuda down and it looks like he’s going to take full advantage of this opportunity,” says Pete as Fasaki starts to back-step his way up the corner post. Once to the second rope, Ejiro leaps off and brings his elbow out…

 

WHAM!

 

…and drives it straight into Johnny Dangerous’ sternum! Ejiro quickly applies a lateral press for…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

“NO!” shouts Comet. “Agent Dangerous gets the shoulder up right after two. He’s starting to slow down considerably now; Ejiro’s offensive strategy is slowly but surely chipping away at the Barracuda’s armor.”

 

“Indeed,” agrees Pete, nodding his head. “At this rate I don’t think the Barracuda will be able to go much longer. Even as early as it is we’re seeing Ejiro’s determination to prove all those doubters wrong shine through brightly.”

 

Like before, Ejiro pulls Dangerous up to his feet by his hair, but this time Johnny suddenly reaches up and gouges at Fasaki’s eye! The crowd “OOOOOOOH’S!” at the attack and Herrington jumps in to admonish Dangerous for such a maneuver, while the Champion’s hand instinctively moves to cover his eye. Johnny has no time to pay any heed to the referee’s warnings and he shoves past Herrington then grabs Ejiro by his arm. Johnny whips Fasaki across the ring, into the ropes, and then moves forward to catch the Champion on the rebound. He slides to the mat to send Fasaki face-first into the canvas with a drop toe hold then fluidly moves back up to his feet, bringing Fasaki’s leg back and behind his back to lock on his over-the-shoulder half crab!

 

“RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!”

 

“The Barracuda!” exclaims Pete. “Johnny Dangerous is going for an early submission by locking on this deadly move!”

 

“Citizen Fasaki’s fighting it though,” says Comet. “I don’t think Agent Dangerous is going to have enough time for this move to do any damage before the World Champion can reach the ropes!”

 

“He’d be wise to just give up now; saving himself from any embarrassment,” adds Riley.

 

However, giving up is the last thing on Ejiro’s mind. He scrambles as quick and hard as he can to drag himself to the edge of the ring and grab onto the ropes as the crowd roars with cheers. It only takes a few seconds for Ejiro to make it to the ropes and he reaches up and grabs onto them, holding on as tight as he can, waiting for the break to come. Herrington orders it, but Dangerous holds on for as long as possible.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Finally, Dangerous releases the hold, knowing he can’t risk a disqualification. He stands up and calls out to the crowd for some applause and gets it, though it sounds somewhat strained.

 

“I’m somewhat appalled by Agent Dangerous’ last tactic,” Comet furiously says. “Is he actually willing to resort to such underhanded shenanigans like poking someone’s eye to gain the advantage?”

 

“I don’t see why not,” Bobby incredulously replies. “It’s not like Ejiro Fasaki is so far removed from using such measures to gain the advantage himself! If you remember correctly, Fasaki used a chain to beat Toxxic for the World Title in the first place. I say it’s fitting of him to loose in much the same manner!”

 

Smiling deviously, Johnny strolls back towards the Champion, who is starting to push himself up off the mat with one hand gingerly reaching for his back. Johnny kicks the hand away and then grabs Fasaki by his head, pulling him up to his feet and then…

 

WHAM!

 

Johnny clubs Rule in the small of his back with a double axe handle, sending Fasaki back to his knees. A howl of pain comes from the Champion’s lips and it’s the sound that makes the Barracuda pleased. Now he knows that he has a sore spot growing on his opponent and all he needs to do know is work to exploit it…something that the Barracuda wasn’t afraid to do. He reaches down and grabs onto Ejiro’s hair, using it to have control over the Champion and bring him back to his feet. Johnny tilts Fasaki’s head back then gets directly in his face.

 

“Come on, Ejiro!” Johnny audibly shouts for all those in the Grand Ballroom to hear, “is that all you got!?”

 

CRACK!

 

Johnny finishes his taunting with a good old fashioned European uppercut, sending the Champion stumbling back into the ropes! Ejiro staggers into the ropes and is then, consequentially, propelled forward off of them and walks right into a round house kick to the gut!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!”

 

The crowd winces as their World Champion doubles over, clenching his midsection, and offers no defense as Johnny floats around to the side and shoots Fasaki’s leg to haul him onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry…

 

“MI SLAM! MI SLAM!” shouts Pete. “Johnny Dangerous is trying to put the finishing touches on Ejiro Fasaki on the first opportunity that comes open!”

 

However, as close as he is to the edge of the ring, there is no room for Johnny to deliver his usual MI Slam and instead he pivots on his heel, falls backward and dumps Ejiro right over the top rope! Inadvertently, on his way to the thinly-padded outside floor, Fasaki’s head hits the apron and bounces off, sending him to the floor in a heap of misery!

 

“Good, God!” cries Pete. “Intentional or not that was certainly uncalled for! Johnny wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be willing to do whatever it took to win the World Heavyweight Championship from Ejiro!”

 

“Obviously he wasn’t, but I was figuring that the do anything clause would be a result of desperation,” Comet crossly adds. “Agent Dangerous has been in a rather precarious position but that was by his own fault. He hasn’t been in any situation that really calls for him to act in this manner!”

 

“Will you two quit your bitching!?” Riley demands. “It wasn’t like the Barracuda had a target on the apron and has been dumping Ejiro over the top till he finally hit it – this was just an accident!”

 

“It’s just an obvious indication of the Agent Dangerous predetermined mindset coming into this match! He’s planned this all along!”

 

In the ring, Johnny peers down at the ‘World Champion’ lying crumpled on the floor with Red Herrington next to Ejiro, checking on his wellbeing. Johnny said beforehand that he was going to show everyone that Ejiro Fasaki was a fluke of a champion—a man that never deserved this belt in the first place—and now he knows he was right. Again, a devious smile comes over Dangerous face before he slightly chuckles at his opponent…and then raises his arm out to his fans. As expected, they do cheer, but it’s not nearly as solid as earlier…something which the Barracuda doesn’t even notice. Johnny steps between the ropes to the outside apron and then drops to the floor, heading towards Ejiro with a big shit-eating grin.

 

“Look at that, Robert!” Comet points towards the two competitors. “If Agent Dangerous was simply under-calculating in his ejecting of the World Champion from the ring then why is he so proud of it?”

 

“Beats me! I guess he’s just a happy, go-lucky kind of guy.”

 

With both men now on the outside Herrington is forced to step back and begin a ten-count. He slides into the ring and begins, shouting out the count quite audibly:

 

“ONE!”

 

Ejiro dazedly stands back up and when he does you can see a path of blood dribbling from his lip, obviously busted from when his head slammed into the apron. He swings recklessly at the Barracuda as Johnny approaches, but the intended punch is dodged quite easily and followed up with a knee to the gut!

 

“TWO!”

 

Again Ejiro is doubled over with his arms wrapped around his gut—blood dripping slowly down from his mouth—and Johnny grabs him by the side, lifts him up, and drops him chest first across the crowd barrier!

 

“THREE!”

 

Reeling, Fasaki merely hangs over the side of the barrier. Some of the fans actually reach out to pat the World Champion on the back and urge him not to give up, but they’re forced to take a step back when Johnny steps forward and pounds his fist into Fasaki’s back!

 

WHAM!

WHAM!

WHAM!

 

“FOUR!”

 

Finally, Dangerous peels Rule off the barrier and backs him up…

 

WHAM!

 

“FIVE!”

 

…then runs him back towards the barrier and slams his forehead into the top of it! Ejiro’s head hits the structure and then glances off, sending him stumbling backwards before tripping up and landing flat on his ass.

 

“SIX!”

 

“It doesn’t look like Johnny is paying any attention to the referee’s count,” notes Comet. “Surely he realizes the title cannot change hands on a count out?”

 

“SEVEN!”

 

Instead of following up further with his attack on the Champion, Johnny heads back to the ring. He rolls in under the bottom rope, forcing the referee to stop the count…and then rolls right back out to the outside, dropping back to the floor. Herrington lets out an exasperating sigh, and then once more starts his count from the beginning.

 

“ONE!”

 

Johnny casually strolls towards Ejiro with his head held high and his arm raised out to the sea of fans in the Grand Ballroom. Cheers are still there. Even in spite of the Barracuda’s rather underhanded and rather…cheap tactics, but Johnny takes them anyway.

 

“TWO!”

 

He comes to Ejiro as the Champion is once again finding his way to his feet under his own terms, and quickly swings his fist into Fasaki’s face! No! Ejiro suddenly blocks with a forearm then returns fire, slamming his own fist into the Barracuda’s skull as he unleashes a ferocious growl!

 

WHAM!

 

“THREE!”

 

“Ejiro’s not done for yet!” Pete shouts joyfully. “He’s taken a tremendous beating on the outside here but still his desire to win has yet to be crushed!”

 

“It’s going to take a lot of water to damper the flames burning inside Citizen Fasaki’s soul,” adds Comet. “If anything comes out of this match tonight it’s that we’ve seen the emergence of TRUTH~! I can only hope that JUSTICE~ finds its way out here tonight as well!”

 

Johnny, stunned, blinks his eyes uncontrollably as he steps back from the first shot. If anything, Ejiro may have bought himself some time to gather his bearings, but he isn’t about to risk taking the advantage when it’s staring him in the face, daring him to try and take it, so Fasaki rushes in and…

 

WHAM!

 

“FOUR!”

 

Blasts the Barracuda straight in the face with a forearm! A few scattered cheers can actually be heard for the World Champion, though nothing as present as the ones for the Barracuda. Still, the lack of boos is noticed by Fasaki and it’s like a small burden has been lifted off his back – there is now only him versus Johnny with the crowd seemingly out of the way. However, the dazed feeling has yet to fully leave the Champion causing him to move a lot slower than he’d like to, giving Johnny far more time to recover than Ejiro would want to give him.

 

“FIVE!”

 

As Fasaki makes a third attempt to rush the Secret Agent and nail him again, that simple fact that Johnny has yet to really have his bell rung comes into play as he finally dodges out of the way and shoves Fasaki in the back, sending him into the steel steps!

 

CRACK!

 

Johnny quickly heads past the announcers table and stops in front of Funyon, shooing him out of the way and grabbing his steel chair. Folding his newfound weapon with a loud clang, Johnny then turns on his heel and starts to make his way back towards the Champion. However, Herrington may be willing to let these two push their limits, but he isn’t about to stand idly and allow them to start using weapons and he hops out of the ring himself, then snatches the chair away from Dangerous!

 

“Thank the heavens we have a firm referee like Citizen Herrington officiating this match,” beams Comet. “If we had someone like Eddie Long out here they’d get away with dropping anvils and John Deere tractors on each other and we’d never get a clean match that way.”

 

“Maybe some of us would like to see that kind of match,” says Riley.

 

After admonishing the Barracuda, Herrington heads off to put the chair safely away and inadvertently putting his back to these two competitors. Johnny watches the referee walk away then turns back towards Ejiro, smiling devilishly, and he waits for Rule to pull himself off the steps and get back up…

 

“I’m not sure, but I think Johnny may have been looking to distract the referee by getting the chair out to begin with,” says Pete. Dangerous waits some more…then Fasaki finally gets back up, unaware of Johnny’s position until the Secret Agent runs in …

 

WHAM!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!”

 

…and Johnny Dangerous punts the World Champion directly in the crotch! The fans watch in disbelief as the scene unfolds and as Ejiro grabs his crotch—mouth gaping wide open with blood dripping from his lower lip—and Dangerous sweeps the Champion off his feet for a MI SLAM…but instead of completing the move he stops when he has Fasaki draped across his shoulders, aligns himself with the steel ring post, and then flings Ejiro off his shoulders and into the unforgiving steel back-first!

 

CRACK!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!”

 

“Hot damned!” cries LDP. “This is starting to go way past the do anything to win mindset, this is just total disrespect for our World Champion! Johnny isn’t trying to win…he’s purposely trying to injure Ejiro Fasaki!”

 

Johnny pumps his fist out to the fans once more, calling out to them proudly, but finally, and possibly long overdue, a small backlash stirs up. Several scattered boos can actually be heard throughout the audience among a very, very dim cheer. Hometown hero or not, these fans are starting to grow appalled by the Barracuda’s actions.

 

“Well, it seems like it might not just be you and me calling Agent Dangerous down for his actions, Peter,” says Comet, taking note of the crowd response. “Could it be that these fans of Las Vegas are actually growing tiresome of the Barracuda’s antics as well as his constant begging for their accolades?”

 

“If they are then the hell with them!” snaps Riley. “You can’t ever count on the fans to show support where it belongs, anyway.”

 

Ejiro is writhing on the floor. The pounding he’s taken to his back is tearfully painful and he lets it be known with an audible cry. Apparently, it’s enough to get a small chant going for him. It starts small--rather quiet--then quickly spreads to a loud chant:

 

“E-JIR-O!”

“E-JIR-O!”

“E-JIR-O!”

“E-JIR-O!”

“E-JIR-O!”

“E-JIR-O!”

 

Johnny simply looks out at the fans astonished. He takes it as a simple show of mutual support and shrugs it off then grabs Ejiro and rolls him back into the ring, following behind him along with the referee. Ejiro staggers to his feet, still holding his back, but the support seems to give him a little more fuel than what he previously had. Johnny storms in, fuming from the chants for the World Champion, but Fasaki swings for Dangerous head with his fist – he isn’t going to take anymore of this crap from the Barracuda so long as he can still stand, and so long as he can still fight! The shot pelts Dangerous in the face, though somewhat lacking of any real force, and the Secret Agent returns fire with a much healthier punch of his own, rocking the Champions head back! Ejiro staggers around and Johnny locks his arms around Fasaki’s waist then hauls him up with a German Suplex, planting him back into the mat!

 

WHAM!

 

Johnny immediately pops back up to his feet and pumps his fist out to the crowd, hoping to get them back in his corner only to get booed in response.

 

“Johnny Dangerous had better stop focusing all his attention on these fans,” says Pete. “Their show of support is no where near as important as keeping focused on the task at hand.”

 

“Plus,” adds Comet, “it looks like he’s already done enough to turn these fans away from him already. His only saving grace now would be to compete with some good sportsmanship instead of all his cheap tactics.”

 

Johnny waves off the fans and then hops down on his opponent, applying a lateral press for:

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO!! Ejiro kicks out to a thunderous cheer! He shoves Johnny back and with a loud, angry roar he gets back up to a vertical base…

 

SMACK!

 

…and Johnny cuts across his chest with a knife-edged chop, void of any “WHOOOOOO’S” from the crowd which cause him to furrow his brow. He pulls Fasaki back off the ropes…

 

CRACK!

 

…and Ejiro suddenly nails the Barracuda in the chin with an elbow! The fans cheer and the World Champion takes flight across the ring, heading for the ropes as Johnny stands stunned from the elbow. Ejiro hits the ropes and springs back…

 

WHAM!

 

…and Johnny dives for Rule, knocking him to the mat with a shoulder tackle! Johnny mounts his opponent and starts hammering away into his face with fist, and even continues as Herrington begins to count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Finally, Dangerous concedes. He may be running on emotions right now but he knows there is only so much he can get away with before getting himself disqualified, negating everything he’s worked this entire year for. Once more the Barracuda is up to his feet and he raises his arm out to the fans, madly shouting at them—ordering them—to cheer for him! Instead Johnny gets totally the opposite and a chant breaks out, but it’s not like anything Johnny Dangerous has ever heard before, let alone directed towards him.

 

“FUCK YOU, JOHNNY, FUCK YOU!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!!!

“FUCK YOU, JOHNNY, FUCK YOU!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!!!

“FUCK YOU, JOHNNY, FUCK YOU!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!!!

“FUCK YOU, JOHNNY, FUCK YOU!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!!!

 

“I-I-I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Pete excitedly says, “but these fans in Las Vegas—Johnny’s own hometown—has completely turned against him!”

 

“How can you support such a blatant sign of disrespect!?” cries Riley. “The Barracuda has devoted himself to these fans! He lives for these people, and now they turn their back on him when he needs them the most!? This is absurd!”

 

“The demon has finally reared its ugly head and I’m glad that these fans are wise enough to stand united against this kind of villainy!” shouts Comet. “It’s obvious that what we’re seeing here tonight is something that’s been long in the making! We’ve seen the obsession that Johnny has with the World Title and we’ve seen the strained relation it’s caused for Wild and Dangerous. It was only a matter of time before Johnny Dangerous, the villain, emerged!”

 

“He never turned against anyone though,” argues Riley. “All he’s done is compete in a match in a manner no different than we’ve seen Ejiro Fasaki compete in and they have turned against him! They have left their hero high and dry and if they’ll do that to Johnny Dangerous just imagine what they’d do to someone else!”

 

Johnny, his eyes simply aghast, slowly rises to his feet. He couldn’t possibly be hearing these fans—his fans—correctly! He strolls to the side of the ring and just looks out at the crowd incredulously, only to realize that his worst nightmare had in deed come true. The people he did everything for are standing on their feet and chanting against him… they had turned their back on him! As the realization sinks in his blood begins to boil. He grabs onto the ropes with a white-knuckle grip, furrows his brow, and clenches down on his teeth firmly before finally cutting loose with a rage-educed, infuriated roar against his people!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

Violently shaking the ropes, Johnny’s emotions begin to take over. He doesn’t even realize his opponent behind him beginning to stir or even when he finally gets back up to a vertical base. Fasaki quickly tries to shake his head of the cobwebs, noticing the opportunity to not only strike…but to win standing before him! Ejiro only takes a second to register this before suddenly racing forward towards the edge of the ring, coming in directly behind Johnny, and catching the Barracuda as he turns around with a ROLLING ELBOW~!

 

CRACK!

 

“RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!”

 

“YES!” exclaims Comet. “Citizen Fasaki has yet to give up – he’s still determined to prove Agent Dangerous wrong!”

 

Johnny staggers backwards holding the side of his elbow and the World Champion gives chase, pulling Johnny’s hand away from his face and burying his knuckles into the Barracuda’s face!

 

WHAM!

 

Johnny, dazed, staggers back, and Ejiro races around him, putting his back to Dangerous’ as he reaches around for his opponent’s forehead, looking for a quick neckbreaker! But before he can get a firm grasp on the Barracuda, Johnny slides down and spins out of harms reach. Fasaki quickly spins on his heel--he isn’t about to put his back to this opponent and not expect an attack-- but when he spins around…

 

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

 

Johnny unloads with a series of eye-watering knife-edged chops, lighting up the Champion’s chest and backing him all the way into the far ropes! Ejiro howls in agony while holding dearly to his beet-red chest, and offers up no defense to the Barracuda as he is grabbed by his arm, “-and the Barracuda is on the warpath!” exclaims Bobby Riley. “I don’t think Ejiro was expecting this much of a fight when he raced in on him and caught him by surprise! He thought he had the Barracuda exactly where he wanted him but he was wrong!”

 

Johnny steps forward and slings the World Champion diagonally across the ring, sending Ejiro Fasaki back first into the unforgiving steel post!

 

CRACK!

 

“OOOOH!” The crowd winces at the impact as Rule crunches into the turnbuckles then staggers out of the corner; one hand gripping his back while the other still nurses his sore neck. He unintentionally stumbles right into the Barracuda’s path, and like before, offers no defense to his opponent as he is taken by the arm and whipped into the adjacent post, and this time Johnny gives chase! However, showing that he isn’t subduing to his less than worthy opponent just yet, Ejiro vaults up to the top of the turnbuckle and springs off, twisting in mid-air…

 

KA-RAAAACK!

 

But Johnny manages to beat Fasaki to the punch once more, lashing out with a lighting-quick spinning heel kick as the Champion comes sailing towards him, blasting him in mid-air!

 

”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

“WHOA!” Riley excitedly shouts, as the fans unleash more jeers. “What a hit! I can’t believe it! Johnny Dangerous has turned the tides of this match back around again, and in doing so has completely decimated the World Heavyweight Champion…AGAIN!”

 

Johnny drops to his knees and heaves himself over his opponent, covering for…

 

 

ONE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Before Herrington can even begin the motion of the final count, Fasaki thrusts his shoulder off the mat! The crowd roars in cheers and Johnny silently damns the situation, but he quickly goes back to his task at hand. He grabs the Champion and drags him up by his scalp, then thrusts his knee into the World Champion’s gut! Ejiro doubles over, grimacing as he clenches his midsection, and Johnny ducks down and shoots the legs, hauling his opponent onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. The crowd is on the edge of their seats, roaring out against their local hero as Johnny looks out to them with Fasaki draped over his shoulders, still appalled by their sudden turn against him. But if they want to boo him he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give them something to boo for and the Barracuda takes a single step forward… then flips forward…

 

 

WHAAAM!!

 

 

…and drills Ejiro back-first into the canvas with a colossal thud!

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

“Spinal Exploder!” calls Comet. “Johnny takes another shot to Citizen Fasaki’s back, and I don’t know how much more of this abuse the Champion can take!”

 

Still holding onto Rule, Johnny rolls up to his knees and stands once more with Fasaki still draped over his shoulders and then flips forward for a second Spinal Exploder, drilling the World Champion into the canvas!

 

“Oh, he can take plenty alright,” hisses Bobby. “There isn’t enough punishment he could take that would possibly justify him stealing the Barracuda’s crowd from him! He deserves everything he gets for this one!”

 

“It’s not his fault!” snaps Comet, “Citizen Fasaki came out here and won the support of the fans with his never quit attitude along with Agent Dangerous malevolent deeds out here tonight!”

 

Johnny drops down to pin his opponent - He grabs Fasaki’s leg and rolls back on it, firmly pinning the Champion’s shoulder’s to the mat as the referee drops down to count for…

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Ejiro kicks out, but Johnny doesn’t give him any room to recover. Snatching the World Champion by his head, Johnny starts to pull him up… and suddenly gets rolled up into a pin!

 

“ROLL UP! HE’S GOT ‘EM!”

 

Herrington dives to count as Ejiro pushes down with everything he’s got for…

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-NOOOOO!!!!!! Johnny kicks out, but just barely! He scrambles to the edge of the ring, frantically breathing from nearly having been outsmarted by the World Champion as Ejiro stalks after him like a madman! It’s not hard to tell that the World Champion is more than just pissed, he’s absolutely livid, and rightfully so after the amount of cheating he’s had to endure from his Challenger. He grabs around Johnny’s waist from behind, and pulls him in… only to eat an elbow to the side of his head!

 

CRACK!

 

Ejiro roars in rage as he stumbles to the side, holding his head, until the Barracuda grabs his arm and pulls it away, then thunders his open fist straight into Fasaki’s head, right between the eyes, with a vicious Shotei Palmstrike!

 

THH-WAACK!

 

The crowd rises to their collective feet, watching wide-eyed as the World Heavyweight Champion staggers backwards and Johnny rushes in, scooping the Champion off his feet…

 

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEM-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII SLAAAAAAAM~!” Riley exclaims as Comet and Pete both shake their respective heads.

 

WHAM!

 

”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

“MI SLAM! MI SLAM! WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION!” exclaims Riley, as Ejiro remains motionless on the mat after having his neck-and-shoulders drilled into the canvas and the crowd goes utterly mad! Johnny crawls over his opponent with the knowledge firmly implanted in his mind that he has won…and he makes the cover!

 

“This can’t be happening!” cries Pete. “After all the determination and will that Ejiro Fasaki has given up tonight this should have been a new beginning for his reign as World Heavyweight Champion!”

 

“It’s a new beginning alright,” snickers Bobby, “but not for Ejiro Fasaki’s reign!”

 

 

ONEEEEEE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! Ejiro kicks out, however weakly, but with only half a nanosecond to spare! Absolutely livid by his inability to put the Champion away, Johnny audibly damns Fasaki and pounds his fists into the mat! Johnny gets up to his feet and yells at Rule to “GET UP” while motioning with his hand for the Champion to stand. Dangerous waits as Fasaki slowly pushes up to his hands and knees as the fans try to warn the World Champion against standing, seeing Johnny crouching down and readying his deadly Johnny Kick, but despite their efforts Rule pushes up to his knees…and then stands to his feet, looking rather stunned as he gets to a vertical base. He cautiously turns around…

 

“JOHNNY KICK!” shouts Riley as the Barracuda steps forward and sends his foot shooting through the air towards the World Champion’s face, but Ejiro suddenly springs to life and narrowly dodges the kick to a thunderous cheer! Having missed his intended target, Dangerous is left off balance and unable to stop Rule from grabbing around his waist and lifting him up…

 

WHAM!

 

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

 

…and sending Johnny to the mat with an overhead belly-to-belly suplex!

 

“Fasaki has just nailed the Barracuda with a sure fire tide-turner,” says Pete, “but it took everything he had! Ejiro Fasaki is too winded to get up!”

 

“E-JIR-O!”

“E-JIR-O!”

“E-JIR-O!”

“E-JIR-O!”

 

The crowd chants for the World Champion but he still lies motionless next to his challenger, who is finally down for the count. Herrington steps forward, ready to deliver a count, when Ejiro Fasaki thunders his arm into the air and lets out a vociferous howl! He pushes up to his feet, staggers slightly to the side, and then pumps his arm out to the fans before making his way to the turnbuckles.

 

“What’s Citizen Fasaki doing!?” questions Comet. “He’s got the Barracuda in quite the precarious position and I don’t think he is in any position to try and take this to the skies—he needs to stay grounded!”

 

“It could be all that he needs to end this madness though,” argues Pete. Ejiro steps out to the apron and glides towards the corner, climbs the post, checks to make sure Dangerous is still down, and then launches himself from the top of the post! Fasaki brings his elbow way out as he sails through the air and down onto Johnny, nailing him with a huge elbow drop!

 

WHAM!

 

“And Citizen Fasaki hits that hanging elbow! This one’s done for!”

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

[Ace309 0]

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Johnny gets the shoulder up just ever so slightly before three! Ejiro tries to argue the count but Herrington firmly replies with two fingers. Nonetheless, Fasaki presses onward. He pulls Johnny back up to his feet, when Dangerous suddenly breaks the Champion’s hands free from him then grabs him by the arm to whip Fasaki across the ring! Ejiro rebounds and Johnny tries once again for a lariat, but like previously in this match he misses. Fasaki ducks down under the arm the reaches back and grabs around Johnny’s head before dropping to his posterior, nailing the Barracuda with a quick neck breaker! Dangerous doesn’t stay down, though, instead he gets right back up with a hand to his neck and tries to press the attack on Fasaki only to get nailed with a forearm that rocks his head back and sends the Barracuda falling into the ropes! Grabbing the Challenger by his arm, Ejiro pulls Johnny off the ropes and sends him barreling across the ring-

 

-Dangerous reverses and sends the World Champion for the ride instead! Fasaki rebounds off the ropes and Johnny steps forward, snatching Ejiro off the mat into a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker…

 

“No dice!” exclaims Comet. “Johnny tries for a tilt-a-whirl but Citizen Fasaki rolls right out of it and snatches the Barracuda’s arm into a wrench, bringing him to the mat face-first!”

 

“RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

Bringing Johnny down with the armbar causes an eruption of cheers and even more so when they see the terrified look on the Barracuda’s face! Ejiro quickly floats over and grabs around Johnny’s chin to lock in his deadly Cobra Crossface!

 

“RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“Ejiro has the crossface locked on! This is the end for Johnny Dangerous’ sinful approach to this match!” shouts Pete.

 

“The hell it is!” snaps Riley. “Johnny hasn’t taken nearly enough damage to his neck and it’s not like some crappy ‘cobra crossface’ really hurts all that much to begin with!”

 

“Tell that to Agent Dangerous,” replies Comet. Johnny bucks and flails to try and escape while screaming in pure agony. It’s obvious that this move is deadly no matter how strong, or how tough someone might think they are, as evident by Dangerous’ attempts to free himself.

 

“Even if this move did hurt,” Riley continues, “you have to remember that Johnny Dangerous is a trained spy. He was breed to be able to withstand huge amounts of punishment in an interrogation and not give in and this is hardly that bad!”

 

“Nor is his life in jeopardy,” replies Comet. “All he stands to loose is his chance to become Champion.”

 

“TAP!”

“TAP!”

“TAP!”

“TAP!”

“TAP!”

“TAP!”

“TAP!”

 

The fans chant loudly for Johnny to give up, but even as Herrington drops to his knees and asks the Barracuda if he yields a firm ‘Fuck You’ is all the Secret Agent says in reply. The ropes aren’t terribly far away and Dangerous can see that. He reaches his free arm out and digs his nails deep into the canvas, and tries to drag himself closer…

 

“Come on, Johnny!” Riley cheers despite himself. Pete and Comet simply shake their head in pity.

 

Johnny gets closer to the edge of the ring and reaches out for the ropes…and he gets them! The crowd sounds off with a resounding boo in disapproval and Herrington orders the break, but after all the crap Johnny had already put the Champion through perhaps a disqualification wasn’t that bad after all.

 

ONE!

 

 

“HE couldn’t possibly do this!” cries Riley.

 

 

TWO!

 

 

“After the way Johnny’s conducted himself I’d condone such a slap in the face,” adds Pete.

 

 

THREE!

 

 

“Agent Dangerous brought it upon himself.”

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! Fasaki finally releases his hold. He knows he could keep his belt that way but right now, nothing would be greater than to put this son of a bitch down for good—down for three! Fasaki stands as Johnny stays down, holding to the ropes with one hand while clutching his neck with the other hand and crying out in pain. He pulls the Barracuda up to his feet and then BLASTS him as hard as he can in the face!

 

WHAM!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

 

Johnny is rocked back on his heels. Unfortunately, it takes quite a lot out of the World Champion to deliver it. He can only watch as Johnny staggers back while he tries to catch his breath, then finally he heads in to connect again. He swings but Dangerous blocks it with a forearm then PLOWS his knuckles right into the Champion’s mouth, reopening Fasaki’s busted lip!

 

WHAM!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

 

“This, right here, has got to be some of the hardest shots I’ve seen all night!” shouts Pete. “These men just won’t quit!”

 

Johnny tries to make a quick, second attack on his opponent and he swings but misses before having his arm snatched into a quick arm wrench. Fasaki steps forward, whipping Johnny to the corner and then follows closely behind. Like previously, but with Ejiro, Johnny sticks his foot out to stop himself from slamming into the post and then he quickly darts around, catching Ejiro as he comes up from behind and lifting him up…then dropping the Champion, face-first, into the top of the ring post!

 

WHAM!

 

Ejiro’s head hits the post and then sends him staggering backward before finally falling to his back on the mat! The crowd boos ferociously, knowing that right now the World Heavyweight Champion is in more danger than ever before….and the Barracuda knows just what he wants to do. He quickly turns back around and climbs up the post with his back to the ring…and his face to these bastards he once called his fans. Fuck all of them. Right now he’s got one thing separating him and the World Championship and that’s back flipping off this post…and so he does. Johnny moonsaults through the air and unfolds at the apex of his jump…

 

“DEATH FROM ABOVE~!”

 

WHAM!

 

Feet first, Johnny comes crashing down onto Rule with his deadly moonsault double stomp as the crowd gasps in horror! Johnny, however, can only smile in knowing that he’s finally accomplished a year long quest. He hops off Fasaki to regain his balance and then drops to his knees, covering the World Champion as Herrington makes the count.

 

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

“BY ZEUS!” cries Comet. “I can’t believe it, but Johnny’s nefarious actions have actually gotten him the victory!”

 

“Ha!” cackles Riley, “I knew Johnny Dangerous would prove that Ejiro was a hack! I was rooting for him the whole time!”

 

“The hell you were, Riley,” fumes Pete. “You’re just an opportunist hopping on the bandwagon at the first chance.”

 

“THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH,” booms Funyon, trying his hardest to fight back the surging boos of this crowd, “AND THE NEEEEEEEEW SMARTMARKS WRESTLING FEDERATION WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIOOOOOOOOOOOOOON… JOHNNY ‘THE BAAARRAAACUDAAAAAAAAA’ DAAAAAANGEROOUUS!!”

 

‘After the Flesh’ begins thumping through the Grand Ballroom though it’s hardly heard. However, all that matters to Johnny Dangerous is the belt. The title that he’s fought all year for was finally coming his way. Herrington hands over the World Heavyweight Championship to Johnny and he snatches it from the referee, clutching the title to his chest. Not even the fans turning their back on him matters right now because everything is all about the title in his hands—the chants of the crowd mean nothing to him right now.

 

“JOHN-E SUCKS!”

“JOHN-E SUCKS!”

“JOHN-E SUCKS!”

“JOHN-E SUCKS!”

 

“This is certainly not good,” says Pete, shaking his head. “For too long Johnny Dangerous had fought to get this prize and now when he gets there he’s completely gone mad.”

 

“It’s a sad day indeed,” Comet agrees. “This will most certainly have lasting repercussions in the Federation, on Wild and Dangerous, and the fans all over the world. I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of this on Storm, so for Longdogger Pete and Bobby Riley, this is CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET~! signing off of SWF Ground Zero 2005!”

 

The last shots show Johnny Dangerous, proud of his victory, sliding out of the ring and holding his title belt out to the fans…then promptly extending his middle finger to them before heading back up the ramp. All the while the chants continue….

 

“JOHN-E SUCKS!”

“JOHN-E SUCKS!”

“JOHN-E SUCKS!”

“JOHN-E SUCKS!”

 

As We:

FADE OUT.

 

=====

SWF Ground Zero, July 31, 2005.

© Riot Act Productions. All rights reserved.

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation: "Raising Workrate by Typing Faster."