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Edwin MacPhisto

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Posts posted by Edwin MacPhisto


  1. I dunno if I'm a big fan of Kibs going out and destroying Show, Crane, a staffer, and successfully bullying the biggest heel in the federation, but if people consented to the use of their characters that way, it's all good. However, as long as Edwin and Kibs come through in this match at Genesis, then it's all good.

    First: I have power back! Goddamn you Isabel!

     

    Second: since a couple people have mentioned I thought I'd cover it. I wrote the backstage stuff and I didn't intend for it to look like Kibs had annihilated Crane, just sorta shoved him aside. Jeffrey the valet, yeah. Sorry to Dante and anyone else if he looked a bit too brutish back there.

     

    But we *will* come through, so it's all good. And now that I have electricity and internet again, I'll be reviewing the rest of the show.


  2. So I'm slowly reading through the whole show, but this was worth mentioning RIGHT now:

     

    “Enhance your calm, Citizen Riley,” replies Comet.

     

    DEMOLITION MAN! GO WILDCHILD! WOO!

     

    ...Back to reading. Johnny's promos so far have been great--just tongue-in-cheek enough to not be ridiculous, fun, and substantial to finally bring around all his secret agent stuff. I'm very much enjoying Johnny's high profile since his return.


  3. All the guys who got bumped last summer before I left. I really wanted to face Frost and TNT in singles, and would have loved to see who'd out-showoff the other in an old-school Tom Flesher vs. old-school Edwin match.

     

    Oh, and King in a match where we both wrote, goddammit. Least satisfying cool-on-the-surface feud ever.


  4. Aside from my praise-spewing at the goodness of the world title matches, I liked the rest of the show quite a bit too. The Judge promo to the start the show was CRUCIAL, getting him a character direction that calls back to a bit of his original intensity and really helps redefine him as a singles wrestler. God bless both him and Ejiro for not going Jannetty on us after the end of their tag title reign. Between this and the dickishness + screw over Apostle finish of the tourney match, I think he has a great chance of going the distance and winning the tournament. I'm jazzed for either Craven or Judge vs. Tom, and I'm especially intrigued by the fact that either of those contenders, with the momentum they've got, could conceivably play the bigger heel in the Genesis match than Taamo himself. The tournament has really worked out well this year and I'm glad to see it.

     

    The Johnny/Bastion interactions were a bit weird to me. I guess it was just odd that a guy who seems to be moving up got his ass beat...but he still came out looking pretty good, so. I did like that it got Johnny some more backstage facetime, because he's become one of my favorite characters to just see doing stuff, whether it's smoking cigarettes, complaining, or chatting it up with management. In-ring wise it looks like Bastion's not too far from the Thugg tree, if notably more aggressive than Happy Huggable Thugg. Thugg's encouragement of Bastion is a bit scary and much more interesting than the two faces fully united go after King thing. With Bastion beating the crap out of Mark (in a truly harrowing promo, yay wife on the cell phone), it looks like we're getting some direction towards what the final G4 setup is gonna be.

     

    Also after re-reading all these WC/Duran/Ejiro/Johnny promos and the story within the match itself, I realize I probably should have booked a Duran/Ejiro vs. WC/Somebody tag match to capitalize on that...but I think the undercurrents of this entire story will keep these guys going for a while. And like TBS, I'm really loving it as more elements get added carefully without overdoing anything. My only question is who's gonna get the match at the PPV--right now I could see either Johnny, Ejiro, or Duran squaring off with the Bahama Bomber at the big show. No complaints here, though: I like all those match-ups.

     

    One more sling of thoughts before I step out and let other people talk a bit: nice handicap match. Preserved Kibs' toughness, made DJ look good, and definitely kept up the "Double Jeopardy is a great tag team and your only way to stop them is to separate them" idea. I like it very much and am looking forward to see if Crow/Crane can give them what they've got coming to them come Genesis. I think, on paper, this card might end up looking even better than G3, or should at least come close.


  5. I'm nominating Mike Van Siclen's Lost At Sea match, which I *loved*. It was him versus CIA and IL, for a world title shot I believe, and it took place on a motherfunkin' battleship. Incredibly creative use of the environment that still held on to a lot of wrestling fundamentals.


  6. Pinfalls don't count? :huh:

    Nope! It's a, uh, unique stip. Basically you just need to annihilate long enough to pull a 20 count. It's not like 20 knockout counts; several matches have ended with a big outside the ring brawl, one guy hitting a decisive move, and the other diving back into the ring at the last second.

     

    And Duran, I just couldn't think of an opponent for you. I could give you Mak but I felt like giving him a show off after he's done a pile of promos and many matches over the past couple shows.


  7. SWF Lockdown, for September 17th, 2003!

    Due: Wednesday @ 10PM EST.

    Live, from the Savvis Center in St. Louis, Missouri!

    Send to: Grand Slam

     

    Only one more show to go after this before the biggest show of them all: Genesis IV! Get your stories set and your fingers ready to roll as we head into the grandest PPV of the year. Note your markers well, as Pete is stepping in to help us out while King's on sabbatical!

     

    SINGLES MATCH

    Dace Night vs. Quiz

    -Well, no tag belts at G4 for the Trinity. Still, we thought it would be nice to give Dace something to kill, and most appropriate was a member of the tag champs. Quiz managed to stay alive against Kibs last week; can he do it against the similarly crunchworthy Dace Night?

    Rules: Standard singles match, DQ and count-out in effect.

    Word Limit: 4500

    Send to: Edwin MacPhisto

     

    CRUISERWEIGHT RULES MATCH FOR THE HARDCORE TITLE

    Wildchild © vs. Dante Crane

    -Duran couldn’t quite get the job done, but Ejiro’s still eager to make or break Wildchild. Until someone steps up to challenge Ejiro for the US title and Wildchild’s services, he’ll keep on hoping that someone like Dante Crane can knock some sense into the Bahama Bomber. These two cruiserweights face off in an old fun stip that should give the fans quite a treat…

    Rules: DQs are not in effect. The only way to defeat your opponent is for him to be counted out of the ring to a count of 20. In other words: flip, flop, fly, annihilate, and dump the body somewhere out of reach.

    Word Limit: 5000

    Send to: Longdogger_Pete

     

    SINGLES MATCH

    “The Sinner" John Duran vs. Va’aiga

    -Uh-oh! If you think Dace is mad…well, you don’t want to piss off a Maori! Va’aiga is NOT happy about Crow and Crane taking the tag title shot on Storm. Originally he was slated to face Andrew Blackwell tonight, but the Sacred One had to pull out of his arrangements for undisclosed reasons. Stepping up in his place is John Duran, who lost a hard bid for the hardcore title on Storm. A win over the irate Maori could send him back on the way to another title shot...

    Rules: Standard singles match, DQ and count-out in effect.

    Word Limit: 4500

    Send to: chirs3

     

    TAG MATCH

    “TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson & The Boston Strangler vs. “The Superior One” Tom Flesher & Ejiro Fasaki

    -Well, I don’t think I really need to cover the history here. The most recent chapter: on Storm, Tom Flesher takes back the title from The Boston Strangler. Tonight, TNT makes his long-awaited return to the ring alongside his friend and sometimes tag partner TBS, as they square off against the M7 team of Flesher and the arrogant US champ Fasaki. Can Strangler get revenge with the help of TNT, or will the M7 live to gloat another day?

    Rules: Standard tag match, DQ and count-out in effect.

    Word Limit: 6000

    Send to: chirs3

     

    SINGLES MATCH

    Show vs. Nathaniel Kibagami

    -The tag team actually won a handicap match? OMG WTF? In any case, the Silent One is anything but pleased about the flash pin that put him down on Storm. Double Jeopardy will have to defend their titles against Crow and Dante Crane at the PPV, but first Show has to survive an encounter against Kibagami all by his lonesome. Kibagami has vowed to make a statement here…let’s hope for Show’s sake it doesn’t start with FWOOSH and end with THUNK.

    Rules: Standard singles match, DQ and count-out in effect.

    Word Limit: 5000

    Send to: Edwin MacPhisto

     

    MAIN EVENT

    GENESIS WORLD TITLE TOURNAMENT FINAL

    TWO FALLS MATCH

    “The King of Nightmares” Michael Craven vs. “The Judge” William Hearford

    -The last 6 weeks have all built up to this. Craven, undefeated in the tournament, ripped his way through the winner’s bracket. Judge fell in his opening match against rival Annie Eclectic, but fought tooth and nail to dig his way up out of the loser’s bracket, culminating with a victory over the tourney’s surprising second runner-up, Apostle. Now these two men will go one on one to see who faces Tom Flesher in the historic Genesis main event.

    Rules: DQs and count-outs are in effect. Judge already has one loss in this tournament, so Craven only needs to pin or make him submit once to advance to Genesis. Craven made it through the winner’s bracket unscathed, so Judge will need to put him down twice to eliminate him from the tournament. In short: Craven needs one fall. Judge needs two. Good luck, gents.

    Word Limit: 7000

    Send to: Grand Slam


  8. So it's 2:15 in the afternoon and I've just posted the winning world title match.

     

    This isn't because I'm lazy. Well, not *entirely*. It's because I've been working on marking this thing for the last two hours. Last night I read them and thought, nah, I'm still a bit tipsy, there'll be a more clear winner in the morning. But there wasn't. On initial impressions, I couldn't pick a winner. On a 55 point scale the matches *tied*. So I went back, read them again, and created a new point system. And they frickin' tied AGAIN. I took a shower, came back, and looked them over one more time, and in the end just had to give it to the match with the slightly better fundamentals and clearer writing. IT CAME DOWN TO SENTENCES, PEOPLE! INDIVIDUAL SENTENCES!

     

    All I can say is wow, congratulations to the man whose match is on the show, and jebus, will the other guy please post his match because it is also outright remarkable. Two excellent writers taking two entirely different approaches to the match wrote each other to a near push to top off an excellent, excellent show.

     

    Card will be up sometime soon, but for now, please enjoy the second stellar show in a row. Keep an eye out for the impromptu match-up. And check out those promos! Dayum!


  9. RESULTS!

     

    What we do know:

     

    Crow and Dante Crane will be taking the tag title shot at the PPV...

     

    Mak Francis now holds the record for longest ICTV title reign...

     

    The new monstrous creature known as Bastion has made a strong impression...

     

    ...and "The Judge" William Hearford III will be meeting Michael Craven on Lcokdown in our main event, for the rights to face whomever the champion may be at the biggest show of the year. Very good show from everyone who participated; I particularly appreciated your efforts in the realm of promos.

     

    Someone is the world champion. God, you all have to read both of these matches.


  10. The Rupp Arena is quiet, as the fans know there’s only one match left on the bill. A hum of energetic anticipation lays over the crowd like a canopy. Michael Craven’s challenger has been decided. Now, the only thing that remains to be seen is who the two will be competing to face. Will they have their sights set on the giant fan favorite, the Boston Strangler? Will they try to avoid his Boston Massacre, Southie Slam, Guilty Conscience? Or will the winner be facing off against the self-professed ‘Superior One,’ former World Champion Tom Flesher, and hope not to get caught in one of his vicious submission holds?

     

    Flesher and Strangler have faced off before, with mixed results. Flesher walked out once before, taking a countout loss rather than allow himself to be pinned. The next time they faced, Flesher won two of three falls to retain the World Championship… a title he would soon lose to Thoth before breaking Edwin MacPhisto’s title defense record. Strangler would be the one to defeat Thoth… Flesher, meanwhile, would simply be destroyed by Frost at the next pay-per-view.

     

    Tonight, there are many scores to be settled, and the fans know it. This is why, when Funyon announces, “The following I Quit match is your main event, and it is for the SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!!!!!!!” the fans explode. They know that tonight is special. It has a spark. Like Superfly Snuka’s leap off the cage at Madison Square Garden, like Pimp Daddy Sarp winning Stairway to Hell at Genesis I, like Edwin MacPhisto breaking Chris Raynor’s neck, tonight is the stuff of legend.

     

    Tonight will be the night they talk about for decades.

     

    The SmarkTron goes white with the blue words "SUPERIORITY COMPLEX" and "MAGNIFICENT SEVEN" on it. Then, with an explosion of blue pyro, "Kashmir" by Led Zeppelin bursts out over the loudspeaker. Tom Flesher emerges from the cloud of smoke, striding confidently to the ring as videos of his signature moves alternate in half-second clips with the words "SUPERIOR ONE," "AWARD-WINNING," "MAIN ATTRACTION" and "MAGNIFICENT SEVEN. Flesher enters the ring and poses in the center head bobbing in time with the music, until the symphonic hook at 50 seconds in, which cues a machinegun-like burst of blue and white pyro from each corner.

     

    The music fades out, and Funyon announces, “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight is the night that a wrong will be remedied. After Thoth somehow managed to get a lucky win, he fizzled out, knowing his career had peaked. That left the door open for the apelike, untalented Boston Strangler to leap into action and grab a completely undeserved title shot. But tonight, this man will make everything right and start his second reign as SWF World Heavyweight Champion… so put your hands together for ‘the Superior One’ TOM FLESHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

     

    Flesher golf-claps for himself, ignoring the crowd's boos, and then strips off his warmup suit. He folds it, sets it in the corner and quickly stretches out, watching the big screen.

     

    The arena goes dim as the opening chords of “Godzilla” by Blue Oyster Cult start to play. As the song launches into the opening guitar riff, the SmarkTron lights up with the name “STRANGLER” in big white letters. A massive burst of white pyro explodes from the stage, blinding the arena. As the pyro begins to die down, Strangler emerges from the cloud of smoke with the SWF World Heavyweight Championship belt over his shoulder. He raises one fist into the air as he looks out onto the crowd, then slowly begins to walk down the ramp. He slides into the ring, and climbs to the second turnbuckle. He raises both arms into the air, fists closed. After a moment, he hands the World Title belt down to the timekeeper, then steps onto the mat. He glares across the ring at Tom Flesher, and Flesher looks back at him. Almost in slow motion, they move toward each other, and the bell rings.

     

     

    DING DING DING!!!!!!

     

    “And this one is underway,” says Riley as Flesher and Strangler square off. “As always, I’m Bobby Riley, and…”

     

    “I’m CYCLOOOOONE COMET!” interjects Riley’s broadcast partner.

     

    “Yeah, thanks, Comet,” grumbles Riley. “This one’s going to be a barnburner, as Tom Flesher and the current SWF World Champion, the Boston Strangler, face off with the belt on the line.”

     

    Flesher starts off with a dropkick to the knee. Strangler, anticipating the tactic, sweeps his leg out of the way. When Flesher hits the mat, Strangler is already on him, putting the boots to him. Flesher tries to slide away on the mat, but TBS stays close, slamming kick after kick into his chest and ribs. The challenger gets to the ropes, but with no rules and no referee to enforce them, the Boston Strangler is able to continue assaulting him! Finally, Flesher slides out of the ring to save his own neck.

     

    “Strangler’s really got the advantage here,” concedes Riley. “Sure, Flesher’s one of the finest mat technicians we’ve ever seen in the SWF, but this match isn’t about wrestling. It’s about toughness. Flesher can take an ass-kicking, but jesus, can ANYONE outlast Strangler?”

     

    “Only one thing shall determine the winner, Citizen Riley,” says Comet.

     

    “Let me guess. The forces of Justice.”

     

    “That may be the dumbest thing you’ve ever articulated to the great unwashed, Robert. Obviously, the answer is that the wrestler who can make his opponent say he quits will go home the winner.”

     

    “Well, duh.”

     

    “It would seem that you didn’t catch on at first. That’s all.”

     

    The Boston Strangler slides out of the ring, following Flesher to the floor as he goes past one of the several microphones, this one set on the announce table. He reaches for Flesher, but the Superior One catches him off-guard with a stiff palm strike. Strangler keeps attacking, but Flesher nails two more palms in quick succession and manages to dodge Strangler’s sledgehammer-like fist. As soon as he slips the blow, Flesher plants one foot and throws the other hard into Strangler’s crotch! The World Champion doubles over, and Flesher takes the opportunity to land a crisp bitchslap across his face. With that, he rolls the champion into the ring and then follows him back in. He dives onto the pained Strangler, locking on a front facelock in hopes of getting a tight chokehold on. Strangler pauses a moment and, despite his pain, simply shrugs the much, much smaller Flesher off! As if Flesher’s nothing more than a mosquito, Strangler stands up, still slightly in pain, and backhands the challenger into the corner, then swats him once more for good measure! The crowd cheers as he continues striking Flesher.

     

    “Strangler takes the advantage early, despite an obvious act of cowardly chicanery by the kowtowing challenger,” says Comet. “Despite the unethical treatment of testicles, the Boston Strangler is able to continue his domination.”

     

    “Domination? Flesher beat him twice on pay-per-view two months ago! He retained in the two-out-of-three-falls main event! The only reason Strangler even HAS the belt right now is because Thoth managed to shit a horseshoe on his way out the door!”

     

    Strangler finishes up with a series of chops, and then punctuates it with a stiff elbowsmash to the top of Flesher’s head! The challenger collapses into a sitting position in the corner, and Strangler continues his relentless assault! He throws stiff kicks into Flesher’s chest, hoping to open up a point for further attack.

     

    “It’s interesting to watch Strangler’s strategy, though,” adds Riley. “He’s by no means a technical wrestler, but he did show great improvement on PPV against Flesher by studying films of Flesher against other big men. He’s also more than capable of exploiting an injury, even if he has to create one first. That seems to be what he’s doing here.”

     

    The Champion then kicks Flesher stiffly in the chin to turn his head up and plants his boot right on the challenger’s 18-inch neck. He seemingly compresses it to much, much less than that as he chokes Flesher out with his boot! As he does, he reaches to the top of the corner, where one of the several wireless microphones is taped. He takes it off, and when Flesher stops struggling against the boot choke, he drags him to the center of the ring and kneels over him.

     

    “Listen,” growls Strangler. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You can’t stand up to me, so make it easy and give it up now.”

     

    Flesher, however, will have none of it, and defiantly backhands the microphone out of his face! Strangler, angered, throws a stiff right hand to keep Flesher on the mat! Flesher winces from the force of the blow, and the crowd issues a collective “Ooooooh!” Strangler shoves the microphone in Flesher’s face again and says, “Come on! Give up!” Once again, Flesher throws the mic out of his face, and again, Strangler stiffs him! This time, though, Strangler drops the mic off to the side. Now that Flesher’s insisted on such blatant disrespect, there’s no turning back.

     

    He grabs Flesher by the head and yanks him to his feet, then shoves him with the force of a thousand armies into the corner! Flesher puts his arms up to try to guard against the inevitable assault, but Strangler throws a hard kick that all but destroys the guard right off the bat! Flesher’s hands drop, and the giant New Englander follows it up with a hard boot to the ribs, then drives a knee in for good measure. Flesher staggers forward out of the corner, but TBS catches him and grabs him by the neck! The crowd begins to cheer as Strangler lifts Flesher up, going for an early chokeslam! Flesher, though, is still thinking straight, and hooks one leg under the middle rope to keep the Champ from lifting him high enough to hit the move. Once Strangler realizes what happened, he shrugs and releases Flesher, letting him fall to the mat on his face! Flesher yelps as he lands hard on his stomach, and the crowd cheers.

     

    “Jesus,” says Riley. “Let me tell you, things aren’t looking good for the home team.”

     

    “Why would you say Flesher’s the home team?”

     

    “Well, it’s just an exp-”

     

    “Citizen Riley,” says Comet, “you need to think these things through. I think it’s only fitting that the Strangler be designated the home team. For one, the home team always wears the darker color in most American sports.”

     

    “Comet, it’s…”

     

    “And even in Flesher’s beloved Greco-Roman wrestling, the away team always wears blue. Even Thomas himself wants to be the visitor!”

     

    Riley simply sighs. Comet pauses, scowls, and says, “How am I supposed to cut you off if you don’t say anything? Bobby, I’m trying to do my job.”

     

    Strangler casually takes Flesher by the straps of his singlet and lifts him to his feet, then throws an absolutely sickening elbowsmash! Flesher, though, manages to move and Strangler only grazes him. Flesher plants his feet and throws a stiff palm strike that Strangler evidently wasn’t expecting, since he staggers backwards. Flesher throws another one, but with the wind still knocked out of him, doesn’t hit nearly as hard. He fights his way past Strangler’s defenses and continues throwing shoteis, though, until Strangler answers back with a hard knife-edge chop! Flesher absorbs the blow, gritting his teeth, and throws his hand up for another palm strike. When Strangler dodges, Flesher dives down and snags his left ankle! A few fans applaud the good technique, and Flesher stands up with the leg. Without giving TBS a chance to counter, he quickly rolls to the side and executes a perfect dragon screw! Strangler falls to the mat, and Flesher follows him down. He circles his arms around Strangler’s neck and under his left shoulder, locking on a judo-style head and arm lock to try to choke Strangler out!

     

    “Flesher doesn’t have any luck going toe to toe with Strangler when it comes to striking, and so he goes back to dancing with the girl he brought,” says Riley. “Solid amateur grappling technique.”

     

    “Robert, you seem ever so slightly jealous of that technique.”

     

    “That’s enough out of you. The point is, Flesher’s got it all over Strangler when it comes to technique, and he caught him with a tight Judo pin. Hell, he’s good enough on the mat that he might get Strangler to quit now!”

     

    Flesher tightens the hold, trying to pressure Strangler’s neck to get the submission. The Champion, however, has other ideas. He slams an elbow into Flesher’s temple, and Flesher’s eyes instantly go glassy! Strangler throws another elbow, forcing Flesher to release the hold, and rolls over on top of the challenger. He continues throwing elbows, catching Flesher repeatedly in the side of the head, and the crowd cheers louder as each one connects! Flesher holds his arms up and manages to deflect some of the impact, but Strangler simply elbows harder!

     

    As he goes for heavier impact, though, his aim gets sloppier, and Flesher, once he recovers from the initial shock, is able to slide a few inches out of the way. When Strangler misses completely, Flesher catches the arm and slides to the side, trying to snag a jujigatame! Strangler feels it, though, and yanks his arm back as hard as he can to avoid the deadly submission. Flesher, disappointed, slides off to the side and looks at Strangler as if to say, “What do you want from me?”

     

    “So, Citizen Riley, where might that superior technique be right now? It looks to me like the Boston Strangler’s size and power has taken that out of the equation. Flesher’s going to have to find a new strategy if he hopes to take home the enormous piece of precious metal.”

     

    Strangler gets back to his feet, having suffered nearly no damage despite Flesher’s surgical precision in attacking. Flesher angles in, hoping to attack Strangler with a series of quick kicks to the knee. He hits one, two, three, four kicks in succession… only to have the scowling Albert Katowski show nothing but a brick face. Flesher glares back and throws five more boots, but Strangler simply shakes his leg once and stares back. Frustrated, Flesher hauls off and lands another bitchslap! This time, Strangler shows some emotion. He actually looks at Flesher and smiles, ever so slightly. Flesher’s eyes narrow in anger, but Strangler forestalls any further show of emotion by driving a hard knee into Flesher’s solarplexus! The challenger collapses to the mat, holding his stomach and ribs. Strangler simply drops an elbow down onto Flesher’s back, then stands up. He grabs the microphone he threw aside just a few minutes ago, then kneels on Flesher again.

     

    “Say it,” he says calmly.

     

    Flesher answers only with a mixture of a groan and a growl.

     

    “Come on,” prods Strangler. “Give it up, Tom.”

     

    “Get off me,” says Flesher weakly, rolling onto his back to face his aggressor. He’s already a mess, having taken enough strikes in the first few minutes to raise welts on his chest and face.

     

    “You’re not doing yourself any favors,” says the Champion with a scowl.

     

    Flesher responds by grabbing the microphone and shoving it back into Strangler’s face! He grabs it away and whacks Strangler’s temple with the handle of the microphone, distracting him just long enough to get in another two or three shots and finish with one to the jaw! Flesher slides out from under his adversary, then stands up and boots Strangler in the face to bring him to a kneeling position. Taking full advantage of the situation, Tom charges a few steps and slams his boot into Strangler’s head, hitting a Yakuza kick!

     

    “Flesher hits a short-charging Yakuza kick, and the World Champion loses the advantage for the first time in the match!” says Riley. “Strangler got caught off-guard, and Tom knocks him for a loop.”

     

    Tom looks over and sees the microphone laying on the mat, and picks it up with a smirk. He kneels down onto Strangler, holding the mic in his face, and mockingly says, “Let’s make this easy, Albert. Give it up.”

     

    Strangler doesn’t answer. Rather, he simply benches Flesher and throws him off! The crowd applauds, and Flesher rolls back to his feet as Strangler gets up. Flesher shakes off the throw and steps in, trying to strike Strangler again while he’s still a little off-balance. Strangler absorbs the palm strike and steps forward, throwing a lariat that nearly takes Flesher’s head off! Flesher rolls to the mat, somersaulting backwards from the force of the blow! He gets back up to his feet, staggering around aimlessly, but Strangler quickly takes care of that by kneeing him in the ribs and throwing him to the corner again! Flesher bounces out, staggering into the brick wall that is the Boston Strangler. Strangler effortlessly bends Flesher into a standing headscissors, then hooks his arms in a double underhook. After pausing for a moment to take a deep breath, Strangler swings Flesher up into a Canadian backbreaker. He stalls for a second, then throws Flesher forward like a ragdoll, slamming him face-first to the mat with the Guilty Conscience! The crowd cheers for the deadly move, and Flesher merely curls up on the mat, shaking slightly and holding his ribs.

     

    “This… uh… really doesn’t look good for Flesher,” says Riley gravely. “He’s getting a few shots in, but Strangler’s, well, beating the hell out of him.”

     

    “The forces of Justice are prevailing, good citizen! After everything that Chris Wilson did to the good Strangler, can you blame him for wanting revenge? And when Wilson made his exodus, what better person to take his anger out on than Wilson’s hand-picked replacement? The Boston Strangler is finally getting his vindication!”

     

    Flesher tries to push up, but fails miserably and falls flat on his face. Strangler picks up the microphone and waits patiently as Flesher starts to his feet again, and once again falls flat on the mat. “Perhaps we should call the squeegee,” says Comet in mock seriousness as Flesher finally starts to get to his feet. Strangler taps his foot impatiently, and as soon as Flesher gets up, he grabs the challenger in a bearhug! He runs full speed toward the corner and slams Flesher’s back into the turnbuckles, shaking the ring with the force! Flesher cries out in pain, trying desperately not to show any weakness… and failing.

     

    “Give it up!” growls Strangler. “Say you quit!”

     

    “No,” says Flesher weakly, trying to sound as vicious as he can. “No, never…”

     

    “Flesher talks tough,” says Comet. “In fact, I’d wager that he’s trying to cover his obvious inferiority in this match. The Boston Strangler is cleaning his clock, and it’s only a matter of time before the forces of Justice prevail!”

     

    “Yes, Strangler sure is-”

     

    “Did you catch that, Citizen Riley? He’s cleaning his clock? It’s only a matter of time?”

     

    “Yeah,” sighs Riley in deadpan. “You slay me.”

     

    “COME ON!” screams Strangler, releasing the bearhug. “COME ON, GIVE UP! QUIT!” As Flesher nearly collapses, Strangler grabs him by the arm and locks on a sloppy but passable abdominal stretch. He holds the microphone by Flesher’s face and shouts, “SAY IT!” Flesher makes a sickening gurgling sound, but nothing beyond that. Certainly nothing like “I quit.”

     

    Strangler glares at Flesher, whose face is a mask of pain. Strangler looks down at the man who took over for Chris Wilson, the implicit accomplice. The stand-in for the man that tried to ruin his life.

     

    Being stretched out to his limits… BEYOND his limits… but refusing to give up.

     

     

    What a fucking bastard.

     

     

    “QUIT, YOU F*CKING BASTARD!” screams Strangler, cocking his elbow and driving it into the side of Flesher’s ribs! Flesher screams out loud, and Strangler keeps grinding his elbow into the tender ribcage! Flesher groans, still not saying he’ll give up. He looks as if he’s just on the verge of having to quit, but somewhere, deep down, he has something keeping him going. Instead of quitting, he just tries to grit his teeth and bear the pain. Strangler continues screwing his elbow into Flesher’s ribs, and in desperation, the Superior One tries to counter the abdominal stretch with a hiptoss! Strangler, however, plants his feet and leans back slightly, keeping Flesher from using what little leverage he has. With Tom teetering, Strangler simply kicks his legs out and falls to the mat, spiking his elbow even harder into Flesher’s ribs! The fans cheer as Flesher screams out, then dies down to a pathetic whimper. “COME ON!” he screams, rolling Flesher to his stomach and locking on a chinlock. He stands up, callously pulling Flesher to his feet by the neck. Flesher, uncomfortable, tries to shrug it off, but even his neck doesn’t respond well to that kind of pressure. Once he gets to his feet, Strangler turns the chinlock into a full sleeper hold.

     

    “And Strangler moves into the endgame!” says Comet. “Like a grandmaster playing chess, Strangler has finally gotten Flesher to the point where his relentless attacking and persistence will invariably end in a win for white over the inky, swirling evil of the black side!”

     

    “A few minutes ago,” Riley points out, “you said Strangler was the dark side, because the away team wears white.”

     

    “Yes, but this time the analogy makes sense! Go for the checkmate, Strangler! Castle if you must, but in the end force him into a corner and flog him repeatedly with your bishop!”

     

    “Geez,” murmurs Riley, “and they say I’M bad.”

     

    Strangler tightens the sleeper hold, and Flesher throws his limbs around, trying to hit TBS in the face or kick him in the crotch, desperate to break the hold. Strangler, though, quickly jerks Flesher off his feet and slams him to the mat with a sleeper drop! This knocks the wind right out of the challenger, who seems to briefly lose consciousness. Strangler holds him on the mat, throwing his tree trunk-like legs around Flesher’s injured torso to lock up the douishime sleeper!

     

    “You know,” says Riley, “people act surprised when Strangler throws on a technical hold like this douishime sleeper, but he’s not a stupid person. He’s a good wrestler, and he knows that just by locking on a bodyscissors grip, you can increase the pressure of the hold all through the body.”

     

    Flesher, seemingly almost nauseous from the pain, opens his eyes and looks pathetically at the ceiling of the Rupp Arena. Strangler reaches for the microphone and holds it in front of Flesher’s mouthy, screaming, “GIVE UP!” Flesher chokes, trying in vain to breathe around a sleeper that seems to have turned into a blatant choke. He reaches down to grab Strangler’s ankle, seeming like he’ll pass out before he can break the hold. The crowd picks up a chant of “GIVE IT UP! GIVE IT UP!” as Flesher tries desperately to peel the bodyscissors apart. He sucks in all the air he can as Strangler lays back, trying to stretch him out. With a scream, Flesher finally breaks the scissors grip! He pulls the ankle up, yanking it against the joint! He cranks it as hard as he can, screaming out loud again and slamming the knee to the mat! Shocked, Strangler releases the hold, and Flesher rolls away!

     

    “Flesher catches Strangler off-guard and… somehow… finds the power and heart to break the douishime sleeper!” Riley seems genuinely impressed, and continues, “Say what you will about Flesher, but he’s never going to give up. Even when Thoth beat him at Ashes 2 Ashes last year, he didn’t submit. He passed out.”

     

    “Strangler isn’t known for giving up either, Citizen Riley. Keep that in mind. Even if Flesher does manage to dig up the adrenaline to counter another move, Strangler is still all in all much fresher, and, dare I say, much tougher.”

     

    Strangler shakes off the shock of having the douishime sleeper broken. He grabs Flesher, knowing that he can’t allow himself to be thrown off his game. He lifts the challenger up by his neck, holding him upside down in a stalling vertical suplex position. The blood begins rushing to Flesher’s head, and Strangler keeps him upside down just a few seconds longer before throwing him forward and dropping his chest across the top rope! Flesher bounces off the rope and lands on his feet on the apron, leaning over the cable and holding his chest. He whimpers, laying over the top rope. Strangler, compassionate soul that he is, winds up and hammers Flesher with a stone fist! Flesher falls backwards off the apron, trying desperately to grab the top rope but simply landing impotently on the concrete.

     

    Strangler follows him to the outside, knowing that he can’t have much left in him. TBS starts toward Flesher, but pauses, then backs away. Instead of continuing to simply beat the shit out of Flesher with his fists, Strangler grabs a steel chair and rolls Flesher into the ring. The crowd sees him fold it up, and they begin to cheer even louder! He slides into the ring and moves toward the limp, hapless pile of flesh that is the self-proclaimed Superior One. Flesher looks up, sees him coming and slides away. He moves to the ropes and pulls himself to his feet, shaking like jello from the exertion. Strangler swings the chair at Flesher, but the challenger leans back and throws a leg into the air to kick the chair out of the way! He succeeds in avoiding the chairshot, but Strangler catches the leg! He holds it, planning to sling Flesher to the mat like a sack of potatoes and finish him off. Flesher, though, has other plans. He looks at Strangler, his eyes starting to show a new clarity, his brow knotted up with effort, and he jumps into the air. Pivoting, he swings his free leg up and catches Strangler by surprise with an enzuigiri! A few fans cheer in spite of themselves, impressed at the resilience of the challenger. Many more boo the leader of the Magnificent Seven simply out of hatred.

     

    “Where the hell did that come from?!” says Riley, surprised as anyone.

     

    “Flesher seems to be getting his second wind, my esteemed colleague,” says Comet. “Strangler, of course, is still on his first, and therefore still has the advantage.”

     

    Flesher gets to his feet, trying to capitalize on his fighting spirit. He reaches over, grabbing the stunned Strangler by the head and once again grabbing him for a front headlock. Just as he did earlier, though, Strangler shrugs Flesher off, this time throwing a hard elbowsmash that knocks Flesher to his knees! With that, Strangler reaches over, grabbing the steel chair!

     

    The crowd, simply put, explodes!

     

     

    Flesher looks up at Strangler, knowing that the chairshot is inevitable but unable to stop it. Strangler swings the chair into the air, and as Bobby Riley winces, slams the chair down on Flesher’s head! Flesher falls forward onto his hands, and Strangler backs off.

     

    But then something funny happens…

     

    Flesher looks up at him, clear-eyed, and tries to get to his feet.

     

    “What the hell?” murmurs Riley, as Strangler pauses, shakes his head and makes sure he sees what he’s seeing. As soon as he realizes what’s going on, he lifts the chair up and swings it as hard as he can, slamming it once again over the crown of Tom Flesher’s head! Flesher stumbles, but once again, looks up, looks Strangler in the eye, and pushes to get to his feet! Again, a few of the fans start cheering for Flesher, even as Strangler raises the chair and hits him again! Flesher shakes off the cobwebs, and this time, grimacing and wincing, actually stands up! “INCREDIBLE!” shouts Riley, as Strangler tries to ram Flesher in the stomach with the chair! Flesher steps back, kicking the chair up and into Strangler’s face! Flesher grabs the chair and slams it over Strangler’s head, stunning him. Then, he tosses the chair to the side, grabs Strangler’s head and locks on a tight front facelock! Strangler tries to fight it, but Flesher locks it on quickly, and with his newfound focus, he gets the hold tightened before Strangler can shake it off! Flesher pulls Strangler to the mat, extending his body and throwing a hard knee strike to the World Champion’s head! Strangler reels, but Flesher keeps the hold tight. His chest heaving, Flesher throws knee after knee, smashing the bone into Strangler’s head! The World Champion struggles, trying desperately to break out of the hold, but Flesher just continues hammering him, until finally Strangler stops struggling!

     

    “THIS IS IT!” screams Riley. “FLESHER’S ABOUT TO GET THE WIN!!!!!!!!”

     

    Flesher looks around for the closest microphone. There isn’t one within reach, so reluctantly, he releases the front facelock. Keeping a close eye on Strangler, he moves to the corner and grabs one of the wireless mics. As he does, Strangler gets to his knees and grabs the steel chair, ready to fight back.

     

    “Flesher is relying on his ‘fighting spirit’ to win him the match,” says Comet. “Unfortunately for the evildoer, fighting spirit often results in piss-poor sloppiness… for example, just for instance, having to release a hold to get the microphone. His tactical error will force him out of the winner’s circle and down into the vile pentagon of evil!”

     

    “Oh, give Flesher some damn credit! Comet, you’re the most biased commentator I’ve ever seen!”

     

    Flesher sees Strangler with the chair, and makes a snap decision to drop the microphone. He looks at Strangler, his eyes focused. It’s clear that both Flesher and Strangler are ready to fight to the bitter end for the World Title. It means too much to each of them for them to give up this easily.

     

    Flesher moves in, ready to kick the chair again, and cocks his leg up. Strangler, this time, moves the chair out of the way so Flesher can’t knock him silly yet again. The Superior One, anticipating this, simply grabs the chair away from Strangler. The World Champion struggles, fighting to keep the only weapon used in the match, the only unnatural advantage he has over Flesher. They fight back and forth, with Flesher finally getting the chair mostly under his control. He backs away, ripping it from Strangler’s grasp… and then, strangely enough, throws it right back at the Champion! Strangler catches the chair, dumbfounded, but…

     

    WHAM!!!!!!!!

     

     

    “YAKUZA KICK! YAKUZA KICK!!!!!!!!!!” Riley is practically having a conniption over the chair-assisted Yakuza kick that sends Strangler to the ropes! “Brilliant tactics by Flesher, and he’s starting to really shine!”

     

    Flesher grabs the chair from the stunned Strangler, then looks him over once up and down. He takes a deep breath, then leans his head back and screams out loud, letting all the emotion of the World Title match show through! Even more of the fans now cheer, knowing that Flesher and Strangler are both giving it their all… knowing that the one who wins tonight won’t be the stronger athlete, or the smarter wrestler, but simply the one who wants it more.

     

    Flesher looks down at Strangler, grabs the chair, and then makes sure to kick the microphone closer to his opponent. He waits patiently for Strangler to sit up. When he does, Flesher takes the top of the chair and hammers the edge into the side of Strangler’s neck! Strangler grimaces, grabbing his neck, but Flesher just nails him again with the top edge of the chair! Flesher hits Strangler a third time, and then drops the chair. He picks up the microphone and, breathing hard, shaking from the adrenaline, slams a kick into Strangler’s spine.

     

    He kicks Strangler twice, three times, four times in the back, moving up the spine as he goes, until finally he boots the Champion in the neck, then the back of the head. Holding the microphone in front of Strangler’s face, Flesher shouts, “SAY IT!”

     

    Strangler, breathing heavy and not quite coherent, shouts, “HELL NO!”

     

    Flesher looks down once again, and screams, “GIVE ME MY F*CKING BELT!!!!!!!!!” With that, he stiffly slams his right arm across Strangler’s face, twisting his head around. He steps between Strangler’s legs and locks on an armbar. With the hold on, Flesher simply torques everything in a different direction, tightening up William Hearford’s stretch plum submission!

     

    “The evildoer locks on the Held Without Bail! This is wrong! Strangler wasn’t read his rights! He was denied due process of law!”

     

    “Oh, shut the hell up, you masked freak!”

     

    Flesher, holding the microphone in the facelock arm, screams, “SAY IT!”

     

    “NOO!!!!!!”

     

    Flesher cranks the hold harder, putting even more pressure on Strangler’s neck, and screams, “SAY IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

     

    “NO, GOD DAMN IT!!!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!”

     

    Flesher takes a deep breath, and forces his arm even further back, twisting Strangler’s neck past any limit of where it should be. He pulls the armbar hard, trying to yank the arm out at the shoulder. With his voice wavering, his body shaking, his opponent writhing in the deadly submission hold, Flesher screams, “SAY IT AND GIVE ME MY F*CKING BELT BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

     

    Strangler groans, chokes, struggles, trying desperately to break out of the hold. He tries to force his head back to its natural position. He tries to break Flesher’s hold on his arm. He tries to ignore the searing pain running through his body.

     

    Finally, he does the only thing he can do.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    “I quit.”

     

     

    DING DING DING!!!!!!!!!

     

    Flesher releases the Held Without Bail stretch plum and immediately collapses to the mat, drained physically, mentally and emotionally by the match. Strangler does the same, ashamed of himself for having lost the title.

     

    As two of the SWF’s top wrestlers lay on the mat, neither man moving, the crowd applauds. In the front row, people stand. Soon, the people behind them follow suit, and before long, all of the fans in the Rupp Arena are on their feet. Flesher and Strangler hear them, basking in the afterglow of the main event of the night, but neither man is content. Strangler has lost his SWF World Championship. Flesher knows that he won’t have long to rest... heavy is the head that wears the crown.

     

    But tonight, just for this one shining moment, it’s his crown once more.

     

     

     

     

    SWF Storm, September 12, 2003.

    © 2003, White Apple Productions. All rights reserved.

    “The Smarks Wrestling Federation: Raising workrate by typing faster.”


  11. The Rupp Arena fades back in as we return from a commercial break to another edition of SWF STORM! The Kentucky fans cheer loudly as they prepare for the first part of a fantastic double Main Event! The camera quickly zooms down to the announcer’s table, where the team of Comet and Riley are eagerly standing by.

     

    “Welcome back to SWF STOOOOORM! I’m the Cyclone Comet and next to me is my announcing sidekick, Bobbie Riley! Up right now is the first of our double Main Event, the final match in the loser’s bracket of the Genesis Title match!”

     

    “Definitely! The Judge has fought pretty damn hard through this tournament, and all he needs to do is take down some JLer to make it to the finals!”

     

    “But this isn’t any JLer, Bobbie. This mere JLer has made it further than anyone could have possibly guess. This Apostle certainly has shown more resilience than anyone could have expected, getting past Jay Dawg, Kibagami, and Crow! To say this hero hasn’t earned a place in this league would be a crime in itself!”

     

    “He’s gotten extremely lucky, but this is where his luck ends. Did you here the Judge at the beginning of the show? He’s gonna run right through this amateur!”

     

    *DING DING DING*

     

    “The following match is the Loser’s Bracket finals in the GENESIS WORLD TITLE TOURNAMENT!”

     

    A big pop for the World Title tournament itself as Funyon goes on.

     

    “This match is scheduled for ONE FALL and both COUNTOUT and DQ are in effect! Entering first…”

     

    “King of My Own World” hits the speakers as Michael Craven steps out to a more abbreviated version of his normal entrance. He gives a shit-eating grin as the fans give him an obscene amount of heat as he walks down the ramp.

     

    “Now entering the ring, our special announcer for the match, weighing in at 280 pounds and hailing from Tampa Bay, Florida, he is the King of Nightmares. He is MICHAEL CRAAAAAAAAVEN!”

     

    Taking all the hate in stride, Craven walks around the ring towards the announcer’s table. He gives a cocky wave to the booing fans before sitting down and putting on the headgear. There’s an awkward silence as Craven and Comet exchange looks.

     

    “Well, Mr. Craven, it’s a real honor to sit next to someone who has come so far from a year ago,” says Bobbie, breaking the ice, “Are you excited about how close you are to winning the World?”

     

    “Oh, it feels great,” replies Craven with confidence and cockiness, “It’s like waiting for Christmas. Soon all those who laughed at me when I started out will see the full evolution of Michael Craven.”

     

    “More like devolution,” comments Comet, “You sacrificed your old ideals so that you could slink up the ladder and get a little closer to the top. It’s criminals like you that gives wrestling a bad name.”

     

    "It’s.......FATE"

     

    Before Craven can respond, the lights in the arena drop out…

     

    ...a moment or two passes before what seems like a heavenly light falls down upon the entranceway. The Apostle walks out and looks up to the sky......but then the first few lyrics of "Burn" by the Cure begin to escape over the PA system and the lights are taken over by flames bursting down the entranceway. A massive pop for the upstart JLer, and the Apostle can be seen in close up smiling as religious images flash with fire on the SmarkTron and he makes his way to the ring with Funyon's introduction.

     

    “Now entering the ring, weighing in at 225 pounds and hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada, he is a man destined for the top spot at Genesis. He is THE APOOOOSTLE!”

     

    The crowd cheers as he enters the ring, tossing his robe out into the crowd before sitting back in his turnbuckle, awaiting the arrival of the Judge.

     

    “Sacrificed, replaced, modified, it’s all the same, Comet,” responds Craven to Comet’s earlier accusation, “Just because I dropped the stupid old gimmick doesn’t mean I’ve changed my original goal of reaching the title. Just my idea of how to get there…”

     

    “You’ve dropped more than that, Craven, and when Apostle wins tonight he’ll give you a pounding worthy of a no-good villain like you.”

     

    “I doubt he’ll make it past the Judge tonight, Comet. The guy is still a rookie, and the Judge has always been great in clutch singles matches.”

     

    The lights go down again, this time turning the entire arena a deep red as the introduction to Rage Against the Machine’s “Testify” begins to play. A few preemptive boos can be heard as the sound builds up, crescendoing to a peak-

     

    “NOW TESTIFY!”

     

    -And cuts right into the middle of the song as red pyros go off on either side of the stage. The old man himself steps out to a chorus of boos, but it doesn’t seem to effect the Judge much as he walks down the ramp.

     

    “Now entering the ring, weighing in at 242 pounds and hailing from Royal Oak, Michigan, he is a former Tag Team Champion and Hardcore Gamer’s Champion! He is JUSTICE! He is THE JUDGE, WILLIAM HEARFORD!”

     

    The Judge walks up the steps, still ignoring the crowd for the most part. He gets into his turnbuckle and does a few quick stretches before turning around to face his opponent. Matty Kivell looks at both of them, and getting a nod of readiness from each of them he gives a point to the timekeeper for the bell!

     

    *DING DING DING*

     

    The crowd gives a cheer as the match begins, and the two come out slowly. They get closer and closer, and the Judge is first to move in, getting into a lock-up. Apostle quickly tries to use his own speed to his advantage, swinging around for a headlock, but before he can get a firm hold the Judge pries off one of his arms and pulls it into a Hammerlock The JLer tries to duck under, but the Judge moves his body to block Apostle. The Judge torques the armlock one more time before pushing Apostle away, giving him the space to hit him with a dropkick to the knee! Apostle crumbles while Hearford quickly gets back up to his feet, and is able to get a few good stomps before the JLer can roll away and back up to his feet.

     

    “Looks like Hearford is gonna go after those legs again,” notes Riley, “You know, throughout this tournament he’s been attacking the legs of his opponent for the Cross Examination. How are you going to defend against that, Mr. Craven?”

     

    “Well, if the Judge does come out on top in this one,” says Mike as Apostle gets back up to his feet and locks up with the Judge again, “I’m not worried. The guy is a lot of hype, but when he’s going against a guy who has been playing at a higher level for a lot longer than he has. If I can beat a guy like Tom Flesher, I can beat this guy no problem.”

     

    “Then again, the last time you beat Flesher was back for the JL Title, wasn’t?” mentions Comet, but Craven doesn’t seem to be listening much.

     

    “I dunno, it was a while ago, but I still beat him, and that’s all that really matters.”

     

    In the ring, the Judge begins to push back Apostle, but the young, fiery JLer isn’t about to roll over and die. He pushes back against Justice, pushing him back a few steps… but he fails to notice the positioning of the Judge’s feet, and as he steps forwards Hearford brings back his closer foot and tosses Apostle to the ground with a basic Judo takedown. Taking advantage of the downed JLer, Hearford quickly steps over and drops an elbow on Apostle’s calf, turning it into a legbar! The crowd boos as Apostle’s leg is pulled across Hearford’s body.

     

    “Again with the leg, and Apostle is just getting killed on the technical side of things by the Judge.”

     

    ”Indeed, but one should not forget that Apostle is an all-rounder, and can go flying into the air at any moment!”

     

    “Not stuck on the mat like that.”

     

    But he’s not stuck for long, as the upstart quickly brings his free foot across, nailing Hearford right across the back of the head. The old man lets go and brings his hands up to his head, and Apostle quickly grabs them while moving a knee into the Judge’s back.

     

    “A fantastic transition from a legbar to a grounded surfboard!” calls Comet, but Riley quickly tries to shut him down.

     

    “Meh, that’s nothing. A more experienced wrestler like Ejiro that could have turned into a Cross Armbreaker or maybe even the Cobra Crossface.”

     

    “Hell, had that been me,” says Craven, putting the spotlight back on himself, “I probably could have turned into the Nightmare Helix and won the match already!”

     

    The Judge quickly begins to get up off the ground as the Apostle keeps a good grip on Hearford’s arms. Turning to his right, Justice tries to reverse the hold, but he spins around a full rotation, leaving Apostle still in control. The crowd pops at the rookie stopping the reversal, but Hearford tries again. This time they do a full rotation before Apostle releases his grip. The Judge spins around 180 degrees and right into a boot to the gut by the JLer, who instantly goes on the attack with a series of knife-edged chops!

     

    CHOP!

     

    WHOO!

     

    CHOP!

     

    WHOO!

     

    CHOP!

     

    WHOO!

     

    CHOP!

     

    WHOO!

     

    CHOP!

     

    WHOO!

     

    The Judge stumbles backwards into the ropes, and the upstart grabs his wrist, tossing him at the other side of the ring. The old man bounces off, and as he comes back Apostle locks on a front face lock and jumps up, driving Hearford’s head into the mat with a DDT! The crowd cheers for the nice move as the JLer rolls the Judge over for a cover.

     

    ONE!

     

     

    TW-Kickout!

     

    “Still early in the match, but psychologically Apostle has the advantage here. Even getting the first pin attempt puts pressure on the other man to respond.”

     

    “Hey, the Judge is a pressure player. This guy knows how to handle that sort of stuff and turn it into victories.”

     

    Apostle quickly gets off and rolls to his feet while the Judge recovers, but he quickly gets caught with a waistlock from the ambitious JLer. He sandbags as the smaller man tries to lift him up into for a GERMANY Suplex. Instead, he breaks the hold, spinning around for a standing switch. He wraps his arms around Apostle’s waist, but the rookie returns the favor, sandbagging as well. The Judge tries to lift him up… but instead of going for the German Suplex, Justice switches directions, slamming Apostle down with a waistlock takedown. Moving quickly, the Judge grabs the JLer’s leg and goes for a Half Crab, and gets it locked in! But not before Apostle scrambles a bit, getting him reasonably closer to the ropes than he was before. The old veteran torques the submission hold, but Apostle is pushed by the crowd to get towards to the ropes, crawling closer and closer until he makes it! Kivell tells Hearford to break the hold and Justice doesn’t listen, sparking a count.

     

    ONE!

     

    TWO!

     

    THREE!

     

    FOU-And he releases hold. But he doesn’t leave Apostle alone for long, hitting the recovering rookie with boots right to that knee of his.

     

    “Look at the ring instincts of Apostle,” says Comet, “For a rookie certainly shows great promise to be a fantastic wrestler.”

     

    “Doesn’t matter much at the moment, though, because the Judge is still got him pretty much under control.”

     

    The youngster rolls out of the ring to get away from the punishing boot heels of the Judge. He lands on the outside and gets up with a slight limp in his walk now. The Judge rolls to the outside as well, not one to let his opponent rest and stop his momentum.

     

    ONE! Matty Kivell starts the count as the Judge comes up from behind the young man and gives him a strong forearm to the back of the head. The rookie stumbles forwards as the Judge moves up next to him and grabs his hand…

     

    TWO!

     

    … and goes for a whip into the steel steps! But Apostle reverses the whip, tossing the Judge straight into the thing!

     

    *CRASH*

     

    The metallic sound of the top of the steps hitting the ground rings over the cheers as the Judge impacts shoulder first on the object!

     

    THREE!

     

    The JLer walks over, still showing a small limp, and pulls the hurting Judge up off the ground, putting his hurt shoulder into a hammerlock. He lines him up with the ringpost…

     

    FOUR!

     

    *DONG*

     

    And nails him right into the thing! The Judge gives a grunt of discomfort as Apostle backs up, the Hammerlock still applied…

     

    FIVE!

     

    *DONG*

     

    Hitting the Judge’s bad shoulder into the post again! The crowd pops big as Apostle begins to dominate, and the young man pulls him away, releasing the Hammerlock and rolling him into the ring, following right after.

     

    “Who was the rookie there?” says Craven sarcastically, “You know the Judge probably should have stayed in the ring there because he knows Apostle has a pretty hardcore background. But again, I guess only people like me notice that sort of stuff.”

     

    The Judge stays on the mat for a second, his shoulder killing him as his opponent gets to his feet. The old man tries to get up, but his shoulder is still aching too much to do much push off the ground, and Apostle pushes him right back down, dropping a legdrop right on his shoulder and the back of his head! The old man rolls over, holding his face as the Apostle takes a moment to make a Crucifix pose for the wild fans!

     

    “Ah, a true entertainer!” says Comet proudly as Apostle takes a second to take in the crowd’s reaction.

     

    But the Judge sees it, too, and his old emotions start to burble up like his early days in the JL. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, the old man pushes off the ground, and as Apostle turns around he gets plastered with a huge lariat! The Judge holds his arm in pain after the move, but Apostle hits head over heels, and flips over onto his belly before resting. The crowd boos as the Judge takes a second on the ropes to catch his breath and let his arm recover before going on the attack again. He flips Apostle over onto his back and quickly spins around with one of the downed JLer’s leg, falling backwards and using his other leg to complete the classic Figure Four!

     

    “And it’s right back to the leg again!” calls Bobbie as the Judge holds onto trapped leg of the Apostle, “He may get the tap out right now!”

     

    “Not likely, Citizen Riley! Apostle is made of sterner stuff than that, and he won’t tap out to a mere Figure Four.”

     

    “Meh, he’s just a JLer,” says Craven, a bit bored at the moment, “I wouldn’t be surprised if the guy taps out to an armbar or something soon.”

     

    Apostle bangs his head against the mat as his bad leg is put under tremendous pressure. He tries to start pulling himself closer to the ropes on his hands, but the Judge is a bit too heavy for him to make it. Instead, he begins to push against the mat, trying to flip himself over and reverse the hold. The Judge tries to stop him, but his arm and shoulder are hurting badly, not allowing him to put his full strength into it. The crowd begins to rally around the upstart JL as he fights through the pain in his legs, and flips the hold over! The crowd cheers like mad as the Judge is now on the stick end of things, and with his bad arm he desperately begins making his way towards the ropes. The old man finally makes it, and Apostle is forced to break the submission.

     

    “He flipped the Figure Four around, but the damage may already be done,” says Riley as the Apostle limps up to his feet, “If Hearford can get another submission on those legs it’ll be all over.”

     

    The Judge gets up a moment after, and Apostle limps forwards, trying to put on a waistlock. The Judge, though, quickly breaks it, spinning around and putting Apostle down to the mat with a schoolboy rollup!

     

    ONE!

     

    The Judge puts his feet on the nearby ropes…

     

    TWO!

     

     

    Three?

     

    *DING DING DING*

     

    The crowd is in an uproar as the Apostle kicks out at the last moment, his weak leg finally getting the strength to do it, but it’s too late.

     

    “The winner of the match via pinfall and advancing to the GENESIS TOURNAMENT FINALS…. THE JUDGE, WILLIAM HEARFORD!”

     

    “The dirty cheat! He literally stole a win right from the JLer!”

     

    “Well boys, that was a train wreck of a match,” says Craven as he gets up out of his seat, “But at least it tells me that I’m definitely going to Genesis in the Main Event.”

     

    In the ring, the Apostle gets up and starts arguing with Kivell, saying the feet were clearly on the ropes. But Kivell says the call is done and made and since he didn’t see it he can’t call it. Apostle hits the ground in frustration, but that’s all he can do as the Judge exits up the ramp to a hail of boos.

     

    “Well, that was certainly a disappointment.”

     

    “Only because your crappy little JLer didn’t win.”

     

    “Hopefully, though the next half of the Main Event will be much better. Next up, the I Quit Match for the World Title on STORM!”

     

    *FADE OUT*


  12. (Funyon) – Ladies and gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL!!

     

     

    “I’M TOO SEXY FOR MY SHIRT!”

     

     

    “TOO SEXY FOR MY LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE’S GONE AWAY!”

     

    (Funyon) – Introducing first…from Las Vegas, Nevada…weighing in at 217 pounds…JOHNNY…THE BARRACUDA…DANGEROOOOUUUUUUUSSSSSS!!

     

    Johnny emerges from behind the curtain, a nearly finished cigarette in his mouth and a confident look on his face. He steps out onto the stage and absorbs the boos from the crowd while acknowledging a poorly made sign reading, “Spy This Bitch”. Johnny points to the sign with his cigarette between his fingers before flicking it towards the audience.

     

    (Comet) – Enter the fiendish Johnny Dangerous as we get set for this match-up made earlier tonight when that huge man-beast, who turned out to be the brother of the Hville Thugg, attacked Johnny backstage.

     

    Johnny proceeds down the ramp towards the ring, where he grabs an unsuspecting blonde from the crowd and forces a kiss upon her.

     

    (Comet) – Would ya look at that? Forcing that young lady to kiss him…who does he think he is?

     

    (Riley) – A spy…?

     

    Inside the ring, Johnny mounts the near right turnbuckle, giving the fans a chance to admire his great beauty. He then jumps down and begins to pull on the far ropes as he warms up for the match. Then, the Smarktron fires up and everyone is taken backstage.

     

    *****************************

     

    (HVT) – You ready to do this playa? Get it all out dogg…all of it…I know they ain’t treat you good at the center…time to take it out on this fake ass spy mutha fucka! Don’t hold it back…let loose and wreck his shit!

     

    Bastion, standing next to Thugg just behind the black curtain leading to the stage, nods in agreement while clenching his fists as he prepares for battle. Thugg, using his cane for support, pats Bastion on the back…

     

    (HVT) – Aight…go handle yo business playa! I got your back if you need it.

     

    *****************************

     

     

    (Funyon) – And his opponent…

     

    The familiar synthesized guitar hits the speakers and the fans all stand to their feet, some cheering while some remain neutral.

     

    “They don’t know…”

    “Who we be.”

     

    “They don’t know…”

    “Who we be.”

     

    “What they don’t know is…”

     

    “Who We Be” by DMX blares over the loud speakers, and Bastion emerges from behind the curtain, his head nearly striking the Smarktron above him. The fans still don’t know what to think of the new monster in the SWF, but they all cheer because rolling out behind the monster is his older brother, the Hville Thugg!

     

    (Funyon) – And his opponent, weighing in at 386 pounds…from the nation’s capitol, Washington, DC…He is accompanied by the Hville Thugg…He…is…BAAASSSTTTIIIIIIIIOOOOOOONNNNNN!!!

     

    The fans don’t appear to have the usual pop that tends to accompany Thugg these days, but the duo head down towards the ring. A few fans shout things at Thugg, and he acknowledges them with a head nod, and as the two approach the apron, Thugg continues around the right side of the ring.

     

    (Comet) – And it looks like we’re going to be joined by none other than SWF Hall of Famer, the Hville Thugg! How goes it citizen Thugg?

     

    (HVT) – Yo, what up fellas. How’s it goin’ up dis beeatch?!?

     

    However, before Riley or Comet have a chance to respond, Bastion dives in the ring, and is immediately attacked by Johnny Dangerous!

     

    DING DING DING

     

    (Comet) – Just a second there Thugg! Dangerous gets the early jump on Bastion! Is that smart?

     

    Johnny lays into the big man with punches to the side of the head, however, the damage he is inflicting appears to be minimal as Bastion’s head just snaps sideways and back forward. However, Johnny appears to be determined to start early on Bastion, scoring with blows often, as he fires punch after punch to Bastion’s head.

     

    (HVT) – Hahahaha…Yo…Johnny ain’t the brightest, I can tell you that right now. He’s got some kind a fuckin’ deathwish…my lil’ brotha’s gonna wreck his shit.

     

    Johnny’s punches keep Bastion at bay, his back against the near ropes, but it would seem that Johnny punched one punch too long as he throws a right hand that his caught by!

     

    (Riley) – Uh oh…Bastion’s got ‘em…

     

    (HVT) – Yo…watch this.

     

    Bastion simply stands above Johnny and squeezes his fist as Johnny goes down to one knee under the pain in his hand. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Bastions pulls on Johnny’s hand, yanking him in close, grabs him around the waist, pulls him to the side, and…

     

    WHAM!

     

    …punishes his back with a ferocious Sidewalk Slam!

     

    (Riley) – OH!!!

     

    (Comet) – I guess he didn’t fall very far from the tree, did he Thugg. From what we’ve seen so far, he is strong as hell, and he seems to know somewhat what he’s doing out there, but I gotta wonder where all this rage comes from. What’s his deal?

     

    Johnny lies on the mat, arching his back in pain, before Bastion grabs him by the face and pulls him up. He grabs Dangerous by the arm and whips him to the far ropes, where Johnny rebounds and heads full tilt towards a waiting Bastion, who reaches out for a huge clothesline…NO!…ducked by Johnny!

     

    (HVT) – Yeah…he’s got some issues…but it’s all good though. That’s my brother…ain’t nobody in this world I love more. I’d die for him, and him for me. He’s been away a long time…since about 14 I think.

     

    Johnny heads to the near ropes, rebounds and as he approaches a turning Bastion, he leaps into the air, turns his body, and then scores a nice boot to Bastion’s face with a Jumping Spinning Heel Kick.

     

    (Comet) – Nice counter by Johnny into that spinning heel kick, but I don’t think it did much damage.

     

    Bastion staggers a tiny bit, but is quickly back on the attack as Johnny gets to his feet. Upon doing so, Johnny sense Bastion coming, and quickly throws up a Side Kick that lands square in Bastion’s face, sending him reeling a bit again. Johnny quickly grabs Bastion and whips…NO…reversed by Bastion, and Johnny is sent to the near ropes. He rebounds, but with his plan well executed, he leaps into the air, and drives both feet into Bastion’s chest with a nicely executed dropkick.

     

    (HVT) – He got into something when he was a kid, and he was sent to a center for criminally insane children. It was bullshit, but there wasn’t nothin’ I could do…so he went in that joint. I promised him I’d get him outta there one way or another…and I promised my moms I would take care of him and watch out for him and shit.

     

    (Comet) – Nice dropkick from Johnny, who is showing his experience right now.

     

    The dropkick sends Bastion backwards a few steps, giving Johnny plenty of time to get to his feet and come back to Bastion with even more punches. He backs Bastion into the corner, but as he tries to land more punches, Bastion quickly grabs him by the throat, turns him around, and throws Johnny into the corner!

     

    (HVT) – About a year ago, I worked out a deal with the head of the center to allow Bastion to go to Mark’s camp, Bases Loaded. I thought that joint was perfect for him…let out some of that aggression and shit.

     

    With Johnny in the corner, Bastion proceeds to pummel him with obvious closed fists punches…to the head…to the chest…to the stomach…to the face…He delivers so many punches, all Johnny can do is cover up until the referee comes in and tries to force Bastion to stop.

     

    (Riley) – Those don’t look like legal punches to me. Did he learn anything at Bases Loaded…

     

    (HVT) – Yo…don’t get your ass whooped Riley. Actually, Bastion didn’t stay at Bases Loaded long cause he had some issues. He permanently injured some dude and Mark had to kick him out. It was bad too cause Bastion had to go back to the center, and you know what it’s like in those places.

     

    The referee pleads with Bastion to stop the closed-fist punches, and is forced to administer a five-count, to which Bastion’s reaction is the shove the referee away in anger. When he returns to Johnny, Bastion dips his head, and rams his shoulder into Johnny’s abdomen, forcing a scream of pain his opponent. He then grabs Johnny and throws him as hard as he can across the ring, where Johnny slams back-first into the near left corner turnbuckle.

     

    (Comet) – Bastion’s in firm control of this matchup now, and it appears that Johnny’s experience is no match for Bastion’s pure strength and rage in the ring.

     

    (HVT) – You ain’t never lied Comet…he’s gonna go straight to the top here. Can’t nobody stop him…I just gotta get him to control himself a little bit.

     

    (Riley) – He actually reminds me a lot of you in your early days…

     

    (HVT) – He’s got that same carefree attitude in the ring…I gotta get him to think a little more in there. But you gotta understand…he’s had a hard life. He hasn’t been home for four years, and he’s had to live with criminals and straight gangstas for that whole time.

     

    Bastion takes a huge running start, darts across the ring, and drives his shoulder into Johnny’s stomach again, this time, with a ton more force. Bastion stands straight up as Johnny staggers out of the corner. Bastion grabs him by the head and forces him into a front-face lock, where he proceeds to lift him up in suplex fashion. However, instead of dropping him backwards immediately, Bastion holds the much smaller Johnny in the air, allowing all the blood to rush to his super spy head. After what seems like an eternity, Bastion falls backwards, dropping Johnny with a lengthy Stalling Suplex!

     

    (Comet) – Well, tell me Thugg…how can you in good conscience, bring a man like that into the SWF, especially given all that’s happening now.

     

    (HVT) – Yo…don’t you start too Comet. Look…the center had to release him cause he was 18, and they couldn’t keep him no more. Moms called and said she can’t take him back…not after what he did…so I said, fuck it…and I brought him here. I taught him some stuff when we was kids, so he should be straight.

     

    (Comet) – Just a second Thugg…Bastion with the cover!!

     

    ONE!

     

     

    TWO!

     

     

    …NO!

     

    (Comet) – Johnny gets his shoulder up, but he’s in a bad position against this monster. He’s gotta get back to his speedy attack and keep Bastion at bay. Go on Thugg…

     

    Bastion stands to his feet, and allows Johnny to stumble up to his as well. Bastion, looking to put Johnny down for good, reaches out and latches onto the spy’s neck with a one-handed choke. Johnny, looking to prevent the knockout blow, immediately starts to kick Bastion in the stomach. When his normal kicks fail, Johnny invents a counter by places both feet on Bastion’s chest, and pushing as hard as he can, until he breaks the hold and goes flying backwards from the force of his own legs.

     

    (Riley) – Nice counter by Dangerous! Did you see that? That’s your move isn’t it Thugg?

     

    (HVT) – Yeah playa…that was my chokeslam…I just taught it to him…he seems to like it.

     

    (Comet) – And it’s one of the moves he used on Smarkdown to attack Ejiro Fasaki and William Hearford.

     

    Bastion takes a few steps back as well from the force of Johnny’s legs, but before he can totally regain himself, Johnny quickly dives at Bastion, driving his shoulder in Bastion’s left knee!

     

    (Comet) – Smart move from Johnny…going after the giant’s vertical base.

     

    (HVT) – Whateva playa…that’s still a cheap shot…tryin’ to take the man’s knee out…that shit ain’t right. And I’m tellin’ you right now…it would do Dangerous some good to just leave now and get counted out…cause I’m lookin’ at Bastion right now, and he’s about to lose it in there.

     

    Bastion grabs at his knee, but has not time to recover before Johnny strikes it again with a shoulder. Now Bastion hops around the ring a bit, and with his back to Johnny, the Barracuda prepares for a very solid move. Bastion puts the foot back down and turns to Johnny, who is waiting there with a vicious super kick…

     

     

    …that is caught by Bastion. However, alertly, Johnny quickly flips over and scores a shot to the back of Bastion’s head with an Enzuigiri.

     

    (Comet) – Nice Enzuigiri from Johnny D. there…and now I think he’s back in this matchup!

     

    (HVT) – See, the problem is that nobody understands Bastion…just like ain’t nobody understand me when I first dropped. But don’t worry…if I have anything to do with it, they’ll all learn real damn quick.

     

    Bastion stumbles forward a bit, giving Johnny just enough time to clip Bastion’s left knee with his arm from behind, but the monster does not fall. Instead, Bastion grabs his knee again, and although he wanted him to fall, Johnny is satisfied with him just hurting.

     

    (Riley) – Johnny’s really working that knee…kind of different from his normal style.

     

    (Comet) – He’s definitely gotta change things up for this one…

     

    Johnny gets up and grabs Bastion’s raised and injured leg. Johnny then hooks Bastion’s leg and rolls him over with a Dragon Screw, and while Bastion goes down, he does not stay down, but instead, he rolls through the maneuver and stands up on the otherside.

     

    (HVT) – I see Johnny’s tryin’ to work the knee…he thinks he’s hot shit or something…but don’t’ worry…he’s about to get his is just a minute.

     

    Johnny walks over to Bastion and looks to use the opportunity to finally take the big man down, so he begins driving hard punches to Bastion’s chin. Punch after punch after punch…then a nice standing side kick pushes Bastion close the edge, as he stands with his back to the far ropes. The fans can sense it, as can Johnny…one more hard blow and the big man will go down. Johnny backs up, takes a running start as all the fans rise…Johnny approaches with his arm outstretched for a final clothesline…closer…

     

     

    …closer…

     

     

     

    …even closer…

     

     

     

    …so close…

     

     

     

    …but instead, Bastion catches the spy, whips him around, and…

     

     

    WHAM!!!

     

     

    …destroys him and the canvas with the most thunderous powerslam ever seen!!!

     

    (Riley) – HOLY COW!!!

     

    (Comet) – WHAT A SLAM!! Bastion just powerslammed Johnny Dangerous into next week!!

     

    (HVT) – I told y’all bitches…y’all ain’t wanna listen. That’s his ass now…

     

    (Comet) – Bastion with the cover…this one’s definitely over.

     

    ONE!

     

     

     

     

     

    TWO!

     

     

     

     

     

    THREE!!!!!

     

    (Riley) – NO! Wait! His foot’s on the ropes!!

     

    The referee jumps up and waves off the three count by pointing to Johnny’s foot draped across the bottom rope.

     

    (Comet) – That’s a heads up move from Johnny to recognize where he was in the ring. But I think he might be too hurt now…

     

    Bastion stands up as the crowd finally gets into the match after that huge powerslam, and drags Johnny to his feet. He walks with Johnny to the center of the ring, scoops him up, and brings him down back first on his knee.

     

    (Comet) – Nice backbreaker there from Bastion…looks like you’ve taught him pretty well Thugg.

     

    (HVT) – Actually, I think Mark taught him that move…but for real yo…I’m surprised Johnny could even get his foot on the ropes. That lil’ son of a bitch won’t die, will he?

     

    (Comet) – Johnny Dangerous is one hell of a competitor, even though he’s got some questionable morals.

     

    Bastion, instead of releasing Johnny, lifts him up once more, and brings him back down with another backbreaker! After the second backbreaker, Bastion releases Johnny, but quickly brings him back to his feet and whips him to the near ropes. Johnny rebounds off the near ropes and runs full speed at Bastion, who has his left foot raised up near where Johnny’s head would be. Johnny, alertly ducks the big boot, running underneath to the otherside. He rebounds off the far ropes, but then ducks under a Bastion clothesline. Frustrated, Bastion reaches out with his right hand, and on Johnny’s rebound from the near ropes…

     

    SLAP!

     

    …Bastion slaps on a one-handed choke again!

     

    (Comet) – He’s going for that Untamed Chokeslam again!

     

    Johnny flails his arms uncharacteristically, but just as the referee passes behind Bastion, Johnny gives a swift kick that immediately doubles Bastion!

     

    (Comet) – That scoundrel!! That was a low blow!

     

    (HVT) – Yo…that’s bullshit. What’s that ref doing…that was a low blow!

     

    Bastion crouches over grabbing his crotch while Johnny takes no time to recover, but instead, waits for Bastion to stand upright, and drives a boot right into the big man’s face!

     

    (Comet) – Superkick form Johnny!! He’s making his move!!

     

    Bastion stumbles back from the kick into the far right corner. He’s hurt and Johnny knows it, so the super spy takes advantage of the situation and runs to the far ropes, jumps out the apron, and climbs the far right turnbuckle behind Bastion.

     

    (Riley) – I think he might be setting up for the FRAMED!

     

    (Comet) – I think you might be right…

     

    (HVT) – Don’t underestimate my brother yo…

     

    Sure enough, the fans stand to their feet and sort of half boo Johnny and half cheer the action as Johnny grabs the tall Bastion in an inverted DDT position. Johnny smartly wastes no time in sliding off the top rope and driving Bastion’s head into his shoulder with the Diamond Dust!

     

    (Comet) – He hit it! FRAMED!! Bastion is down…Johnny is in control! Could we see the quick end of Bastion?!?

     

    The fans get into it as Johnny rolls away a bit, and finally takes a moment to recover from earlier damage. Figuring he’s got the match won at this point, as he connected with his finisher, Johnny takes his time and crawls over to Bastion, who lays on his back not far from the far right corner. Johnny reaches out to cover the beast…

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    …BUT BASTION JUST SITS RIGHT UP!!

     

    (Comet) – Are you kidding me?!? Bastion just sat right up! Johnny’s finisher didn’t even faze him! I’ve seen that finisher put many a man down…but Bastion just sat right up like it was nothing!!

     

    (Riley) – Who the hell is this guy?!?

     

    (HVT) – That’s my brother yo…I told you don’t sleep on him. You can’t hurt him…and believe me, I’ve tried yo.

     

    Johnny’s face says it all, as his jaw is on the floor and he can’t believe…not only did Bastion sit up, but Johnny didn’t even get a chance to cover! Johnny looks around at the referee, who shrugs, and then around for any kind of answer…because what just happened is just not possible.

     

    (Comet) – Johnny can’t freaking believe it!

     

    (Riley) – I can’t believe it!

     

    (HVT) – Y’all best recognize real quick…that nigga’s for real…and he will wreck yo shit.

     

    Bastion stands to his feet as a stunned Johnny Dangerous backs up closer to the center of the ring, completely flustered and unsure of how Bastion just sat up from his finisher. Bastion, with a gleam of rage in his eyes, gives Johnny a kick to the stomach, doubling him over. Bastion then thrusts him into a standing head scissors…

     

    (HVT) – Oh shit…this is gonna be real bad for Johnny…

     

    (Riley) – What? What’s about to happen?!?

     

    (HVT) – You’ll see.

     

    Bastion flips Johnny up as if for a powerbomb, and then amidst many a flash bulb, Bastion brings him down…

     

    WHAM!

     

    …with a thunderous powebomb!!

     

    (Comet) – Powerbomb by Bastion!

     

    (HVT) – Wait…

     

    Instead of releasing and covering, Bastion maintains his hand position, lifts Johnny back up, and…

     

    WHAM!

     

    …slams him down for another powerbomb!!

     

    (Comet) – Another powerbomb! Come on!! That’s enough already!

     

    But no…Bastion maintains his hand position, lifts Johnny back up a third time…

     

    (Riley) – Another one???

     

    But this time, Bastion holds him for a second, and…

     

    KA-BAM!!!

     

    FOLDS HIM UP WITH A JACKNIFE POWERBOMB!!!

     

    (Comet) – A JACKNIFE POWERBOMB!! HOLY COW! TWO POWERBOMBS INTO A JACKNIFE POWERBOMB!!! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?

     

    (HVT) – He doesn’t have a name for it yet…but goddamn it’s a great move!! This match is over…excuse me.

     

    Bastion stands over the lifeless body of Johnny Dangerous, admiring his work, before kneeling down and making the cover.

     

    ONE!

     

     

     

    TWO!

     

     

     

    THREEEEEEE!!

     

    DING DING DING

     

    (Comet) – And that’s it! Bastion wins!! What a hell of a move to end it with!

     

    (Riley) – You said it Comet…that looked like it hurt.

     

    (Funyon) – Your winner…BAAASSSTTTTIIIIIOOOOOOONNNNN!!!

     

    Thugg rolls over to the near side of the ring and calls for Bastion to leave. Bastion snatches his hand from the referee and goes to his brother just as “Who We Be” starts back up. The two exit up the ramp, with Bastion pushing Thugg’s chair and the fans more in shock than happiness.

     

    (Comet) – Seems like these fans don’t know what to think about Bastion, just like me…that finisher was insane!

     

    (Riley) – I really thought Johnny’s experience would come through in the end…but damn…what a beast Bastion is. Everyone in the back had better stay clear!

     

    (Comet) – You definitely right on that! We’ll be right back with our double main event!

     

    Storm fades to commercial as Bastion and Thugg exit the stage.


  13. “Welcome back to Storm, good citizens,” says an enthusiastic Cyclone Comet. “We’re just about ready for the match between Wildchild and John Duran, in which Wildchild’s Hardcore Title will be on the line! And Bobby, these two men have developed a fairly healthy dislike for each other!”

     

    Bobby Riley nods his head in agreement. “They have indeed, Comet. Wildchild cost Duran a shot at the World Heavyweight Title by interfering in the Triple Threat between Duran, Quiz and Ejiro, and hitting him in the face with a steel chair! Duran demanded a match against Wildchild, which the Suicide King made for tonight, but as we saw on Smarkdown, Duran wasn’t exactly in a waiting mood!”

     

    << Flashback to 08 Sep Smarkdown>>

     

    The Bahama Bomber pulls Xcalibur to his feet and stands in front of him, hooking his arms underneath the challengers. Before he can begin to spin around, however, Duran leaps onto the ring apron, grabbing his attention. Distracted, Wildchild releases Xcalibur and walks over towards the edge of the ring, where he confronts Duran. The two exchange words, and The Sinner pushes Wildchild away from him with both hands. The Tropical Tumbler charges towards him in retaliation, swinging his arm wildly, but Duran leans backwards out of his range. Wildchild’s fist whiffs through the air, and his momentum causes him to spin around, allowing Duran to grab him from behind and trap him in a full nelson.

     

    Comet (VO): That scoundrel Duran involved himself in Wildchild’s title defense against Xcalibur, in an attempt to cost him the Hardcore Title!

     

    Picking the chair up off the canvas, Xcalibur races towards the edge of the ring, swinging wildly to obliterate the Hardcore Champion…

     

     

    CRACK!

     

     

    … But the Bahama Bomber wriggles free of Duran’s grip and dives out of the way at the last possible second, causing Xcalibur to smash The Sinner in the face with the chair, sending him tumbling off the ring apron and to the floor below!

     

    Comet (VO): But his insidious plan backfired, as Xcalibur hit him instead…

     

    Dropping the chair on the canvas in alarm, Xcalibur fails to notice Wildchild as he scrambles to his feet and races towards the corner, leaping onto the top turnbuckle…

     

     

    BANG!

     

     

    … And springing back off, diving towards Xcalibur’s head and snaring him in a front facelock as he spins around, driving the challenger’s face into the discarded steel chair with a jaw-dropping Jump Swinging DDT!

     

    Comet (VO): Giving Wildchild the opportunity he needed to put Xcalibur away, and successfully his title!

     

    Wildchild rolls over Xcalibur’s body and hooks the leg as the referee dives into position to assess the pinfall:

     

     

     

    ONE!

     

     

     

    TWO!

     

     

     

    THREEEEEEE!

     

     

    DING! DING! DING!

     

     

     

    << End Flashback >>

     

     

    “But tonight, Citizen Riley, Duran has his own shot to defeat Wildchild in one-on-one competition!” Comet turns towards the camera. “Duran has chance to not only exact revenge against Wildchild, but he can also win his first title in the SWF!”

     

    “Duran mostly wants to get back at Wildchild for costing him his title shot,” adds Riley, “but if he can take his belt in the process, that would really rub his nose in it!”

     

    Comet nods. “And I can’t help but be concerned by the footage we just saw of earlier tonight, when Ejiro was apparently giving pointers to John Duran about how best to fight Wildchild!”

     

    “I don’t think that it has anything to do with Duran specifically,” replies Riley. “Ejiro hates the fact that Wildchild has the Hardcore title, and he’s willing to help anybody take that belt off of him!”

     

    Funyon stands in the center of the ring, where he raises the microphone to his lips as he prepares to speak. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the SWF Hardcore Championship!”

     

    The Rupp Arena begins to echo with a cacophony of boos as Drowning Pool’s “Sinner” begins to play. Duran steps out from behind the curtain and walks deliberately down the ramp, using both hands to pull his hair back. Upon reaching the ringside area, he ducks down underneath the apron and pulls out a garbage can and a couple of steel chairs, heaving all of them over the top rope into the ring.

     

    Nonplussed, Funyon continues his introductions. “Introducing first, the Challenger! From Champaign, Illinois, weighing two hundred sixty-five pounds, The Sinner, JOOOOOOOHN DURAAAAAAAAN!” Duran turns to face the ramp and straightens out his t-shirt as he flexes his arms, anxiously awaiting his opponent.

     

    Grabbing onto the middle rope, he pulls himself onto the ring apron, and then uses the top rope to support himself as he stands up. Turning to face the crowd, Duran responds to their boos by extending his middle finger and loudly screaming “GO TO HELL!”

     

    “Duran really looks pumped for this match,” remarks Riley. “I think the Hardcore Title’s going to change hands tonight!

     

    “I wouldn’t consider that a foregone conclusion, Citizen Riley,” replies Comet, “But Wildchild’s definitely going to have to bring it, if he wants to retain his title!”

     

    “Sinner” fades out and is quickly replaced by Biohazard’s “Sellout.” For the first time in SWF history, the fans come to their feet at the sound of that song, cheering in anticipation of the arrival of Wildchild.

     

    “What an amazing crowd reaction,” says Riley. “I always knew these people would learn to appreciate the wrestling brilliance of Ejiro!”

     

    Comet glances at his broadcast partner with a bemused expression. “I don’t think that they’re cheering for Ejiro…”

     

    “His opponent,” continues Funyon, “from Morgan’s Bluff, in the Bahamas, weighing two hundred fourteen pounds, the SWF Hardcore Champion, the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!”

     

    Duran drops into a fighting stance, practically shaking with anticipation as he waits to assault the Hardcore Champion.

     

    “So,” wonders Riley aloud, “where is he?”

     

    Suddenly, the crowd begins cheering even louder, as the Bahama Bomber races from out in the crowd down to the ring, climbing up onto the ring apron behind Duran, and discarding his title as he leaps onto the top rope!

     

    “Duran,” shouts Riley, “turn around! He’s right behind you!”

     

    With the greatest of ease, Wildchild springs off the top rope and lands in a seated position on Duran’s shoulders. Spinning around to face The Sinner, he locks his legs behind Duran’s head as he arches back, taking him over with a beautiful rana!

     

    DING! DING! DING!

     

    The referee orders the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match. Wildchild beats Duran to his feet and races to the ropes as The Sinner stands up, leaping into the air and whipping his leg around sharply, blasting Duran underneath the chin with a leg lariat that sends him over the top rope and tumbling to the outside! Wildchild bounces to his feet, raising his arms in the air as the exuberant crowd cheers ever louder.

     

    “It looks as if Wildchild is pumped up for this match as well, Citizen Riley,” exclaims Comet. “Duran may not get the opportunity to implement his strategy!”

     

    SPLASH!

     

    Wildchild races again to the ropes as Duran struggles to get to his feet outside the ring, leaping high into the air as he dashes back across the ring and somersaulting over the top rope, crashing into The Sinner with a breathtaking Tope Con Hilo! The boisterous crowd voices their approval as the Bahama Bomber assumes a mounted position atop Duran and batters his face with a barrage of right hands!

     

    “Wildchild is giving it his all in this match,” says Comet. “He’s not going to give up that belt without a fight!”

     

    Wildchild stands up and walks towards the ring, reaching down underneath the ring apron to retrieve a ladder! He lifts it off the ground as Duran gets to his feet, holding it in front of him as he rushes headlong towards the challenger…

     

     

    CRUNCH!

     

     

    … But The Sinner quickly raises his leg up, kicking the ladder back into Wildchild’s face, and knocking him to the ground! A hush falls over the crowd as Duran walks over to the Wildchild, lifting the ladder up into the air…

     

    WHACK!

     

    … And smashing it back down into Wildchild’s chest!

     

    WHACK!

    WHACK!

    WHACK!

     

    “Wildchild went for the knockout blow a little too prematurely,” says Riley, “and now he’s paying for it! Duran’s firmly in control of this match right now!”

     

    As the crowd boos Duran’s heinous actions, their boos become even louder as Ejiro Fasaki begins to make his way down the ramp. With an approving nod to Duran, Ejiro proceeds to walk around the ring towards the announcers table, as Duran grabs a length of video cable from the ground and wraps it around Wildchild’s throat, choking him out with it!

     

    “Holy asphyxiation,” exclaims Comet. “John Duran is choking the life out of Wildchild with that cable!”

     

    “Enough about Wildchild,” says Riley. “We’ve got more important things to talk about, now that we’re about to be joined by United States Champion, Ejiro Fasaki! Champ, thanks for taking the time to join us at ringside again!”

     

    Ejiro adjusts his headset and takes a seat next to Riley. “You’re quite welcome, Robert! You know, I’ve come to realize that the only attractive people in the entire state of Kentucky are the ones who are passing through! I mean, the woman running the buffet in the back… she could have stopped the face on a clock! And speaking of the buffet, if it weren’t for Wildchild, I wouldn’t have to have gone and serve myself; I sent him to get my supper, and the next time I see him, he’s out here wrestling!”

     

    Bobby raises his eyebrows. “You mean, you don’t know that he…”

     

    Comet quickly interrupts him “… Is very much looking forward to seeing who takes you up on this offer! And tell me, Citizen Ejiro, what compelled you to issue such a challenge?”

     

    Meanwhile, on the other side of the ring, Wildchild reaches up desperately to rake Duran in the eyes, causing him to release his grip around the Champion’s throat. Wildchild crawls away to safety, gasping desperately for air as Duran shakes his head to recover his vision.

     

    Ejiro turns towards Comet to respond. “Well, quite frankly, I’ve become bored by the lack of competition for this title; I need a challenge. And I’m even willing to offer Wildchild’s freedom in exchange for a worthy opponent.”

     

    Wildchild uses the steel stairs to prop himself up as Duran finally clears his vision and turns his attention towards his opponent. Furious, The Sinner charges towards Wildchild, lowering his head to deliver a crushing spear into the stairs…

     

     

    CLANG!

     

     

    … But the Bahama Bomber leaps into the air at the last minute, causing Duran to dart underneath him, and crash head-first into the steel steps, dislodging them! Reaching into the ring, Wildchild grabs a nearby chair and raises it above his head, eliciting cheers from the crowd. The Bahama Bomber rushes at Duran as he struggles to his feet…

     

     

    WHACK!

     

     

    … and bashes him in the face with a running chair shot!

     

    “I’ve just about had it with Wildchild,” says Ejiro with a look of disgust. “Every time it seems as though I’m getting through to him, he reverts to his high-risk, suicida style. I’ve wasted so much of my valuable time with him, that I’m just about ready to wash my hands of the whole thing!”

     

    Wildchild once again holds the chair aloft with both hands and charges towards Duran, preparing to waffle him with another chair shot…

     

     

    WHAM!

     

     

    … But The Sinner surprises the Hardcore Champion, scooping him up into the air and spinning him around suddenly, driving him into the padded arena floor with a powerslam!”

     

     

    “Powerslam,” shouts Riley, as Duran locks his hands together in an attempt to cover. “That might do it!”

     

     

     

    ONE!

     

     

     

    TWO!

     

     

     

     

    THREE—

     

    NO! Wildchild barely gets the shoulder up!

     

    “That powerslam was nearly enough to end the contest,” says Comet, “but Wildchild was just able to reach down and find enough left to kick out!”

     

    As Wildchild lay unmoving on the floor, The Sinner bends down to grasp the floor padding with both hands, ripping it away from the concrete floor.

     

    “If Duran put him through that concrete,” says Riley, “he’s not going to be reaching down to find anything!”

     

    Ejiro shrugs indifferently. “C’est le vie. Wildchild brought this upon himself. All he had to do was listen to me…”

     

    Duran drags Wildchild to his feet and traps him in a standing headscissors. Looking out to the crowd, The Sinner scowls as he screams out, “Say goodbye to your little hero!”

     

    “Holy implants,” shrieks Comet. “He’s going to try to hit the Ultimate Sin out on the concrete!”

     

    “If he hits this,” adds Riley, “Wildchild’s going to be looking for work as Christopher Reeve’s stunt double!”

     

    Duran wraps his arms around Wildchild’s waist and lifts him over his shoulder. He positions his hands underneath Wildchild’s underarms and lifts him into the air, but the Bahama Bomber struggles desperately, flailing his legs about until he can wriggle out of Duran’s grasp, and drops down to the arena floor.

     

    “He escaped,” says a relieved Comet. “He must have the flexibility of Mister Fantastic to free himself from such a predicament!”

     

    Duran wheels around to try to regain his advantage, and extends his arm to level Wildchild with a clothesline, but the Bahama Bomber ducks underneath it. He quickly repositions himself as The Sinner turns back around, and thrusts his leg through the air, drilling him underneath the chin with a shuffling sidekick! As Duran staggers backwards, Wildchild presses his attack, kicking him in the stomach to double him over and swiftly spinning around, locking his arms underneath Duran’s and leaping into the air before The Sinner can react…

     

     

    BANG!

     

     

    … Driving his head into the concrete with his patented Wild-Driver!

     

    “Wild-Driver,” exclaims Comet. “Wild-Driver into the concrete!”

     

    “My God,” shrieks Riley. “I think Duran may be out!” Wildchild rolls Duran over onto his back and lies atop him as the referee counts the pinfall…

     

     

     

     

    ONE!

     

     

     

    TWO!

     

     

     

    THREE!

     

     

    DING! DING! DING!

     

     

    The crowd erupts as “Sellout” rings out through the Rupp Arena. “The referee runs around the ring to retrieve the Hardcore Title from Funyon as the announcer rises from his ringside seat. “Here is your winner, in four minutes and fifty-five seconds, … and STILL SWF Hardcore Champion… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!”

     

    Wildchild pulls himself to his feet and slides into the ring. He walks across the ring to retrieves his title from the referee and climbs onto the turnbuckle, holding his title high above his head as Duran continues to lay unconscious outside the ring.

     

    “Well,” reflects Comet, “it looks as if Duran is going to have to wait a little longer to get his revenge against Wildchild. Folks, stick around; we’ll be right back with more great SWF action!”

     

    As we:

    FADE OUT


  14. “OHHHHHHHHH SAYYYYYYYYY CANNNNNNNN YOU SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~!”

     

    “Oh goodie,” deadpans the usually boisterous Cyclone Comet, “it is none other than the United States Champion. Doesn’t he have somewhere else to be today? I know he’s not on the format.”

     

    “You sound disappointed that we actually get to see a man of his talents,” counters Bobby Riley from his seat at ringside. “I am completely stoked whenever we get graced by the presence of any member of The Magnificent Seven.”

     

    Wandering out through the ring curtain without his usual smile on his face, Ejiro Fasaki power walks down to the ring as his official flag bearer Wildchild comes following him to the ring. Wearing a similar expression as Ejiro, The Human Hurricane holds the American Flag at a respectable if not exuberant height as he enters the ring behind the huffy United States Champion. Not having a match tonight, Ejiro dresses sharply in a well-pressed pair of khaki pants as well as a Magnificent Seven monogrammed golf shirt. And, as always, he is ever the more willing to display his wares to the booing crowd as he climbs up to the middle ropes and lifts his title belt high into the air.

     

    “FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI!”

     

    Taking a moment to recognize Wildchild and the flag, Fasaki sends a military style salute at the stars and stripes just as the final tunes of The Star Spangles Banner fade into the out reaches of the arena. Pulling a microphone out of his pocket much to the dismay of the cheering populace, Ejiro takes a moment to lay the United States title down across the mat at his feet. Looking out to the people both behind him and before him, Ejiro Fasaki turns face on into the camera as the crowd continues to buzz with their hatred for the puny, annoying Rule.

     

    Finally Ejiro begins to speak into the stick, “You know you think after all I have done after all I proved to the wrestling world and to you people as well, that I would be granted a little bit of respect. You would think that everyone that could see what I could do would take advantage of the situation. To strike when the iron is hot! That they would want to make their marks on me but as I stand before you I don’t see that. I don’t see the next generation of wrestlers eager and in my face trying to become what I already am.”

     

    “What the hell is he talking about, Citizen Riley?” interjects The Cyclone Comet as Ejiro takes a breath to allow his words to wash over the crowd.

     

    “I think he is going to tell us Comet,” replies Bobby as Ejiro wanders to the other side of the ring.

     

    Ejiro continues, “But as I walk through the halls here in the SWF there is no one who seemingly wants to take that next step. No one wants to work the path through me in order to be taken seriously as a contender. And quite frankly that makes me sick to my stomach! That a bunch of second rate punks want no parts of being a champion in this company just makes me ill. Where are the people lining up to take their shot at holding some gold in this company? Why do I stand here with a microphone while no one comes out to say to me, ‘Ejiro I want your strap’? I’ll tell you why. Because they know they can’t beat me. Because they know that if they got in a ring with me that there would only be one way they could get out of here and that is on their backs like a cheap Nebraska ho to her cousin with the most teeth!”

     

    “FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI! FU FASAKI!”

     

    Fasaki breaks into his first smile, “So it came to me the other day that the wrestlers of today’s day and age just don’t see titles the same way I do. They don’t see a championship and think about how great an honor it would be to have that title. They would rather sell their merchandise and get a movie deal sometime down the road. So a fact is obvious to me and would be obvious to all of you if you went to school for more than a week and a half. That as of right now, just taking the United States title is not a clear enough incentive for the guys in the back to get out here and fight me. I have to make things a little more interesting to get these punks motivated. Because unless I can get some actual challengers, my reign as United States champion will be forgotten just as quickly as everyone else’s and that is simply not acceptable. Because I am the greatest man to ever hold onto this thing. Because I make titles worth winning again… just look what I did for the tag straps if you don’t believe me. Because I am better than YOU and I can PROVE it.”

     

    “He does have a point there,” giggles Riley as the crowd takes the opportunity to boo Fasaki’s catchphrase.

     

    “The only point Citizen Fasaki has is on the point of his head,” replies The Cyclone Comet. “Why doesn’t he make the challenge to someone if he wants to defend that belt so badly.”

     

    “So it comes to this,” Ejiro rambles, “it comes to the point where I have to entice you bastards to do something you should already be doing like a damn band leader. But if I have to make the idea of challenging me more palatable I will. So as of this moment, I want everyone in the world from the SWF to the SJL that I will refuse no challenge. That I will face anyone who wants to face me. And should they manage by some freak of nature, not only will they win the United States championship…they can have Wildchild too!”

     

    “WHAT!” calls out The Comet in outrage, “Is Wildchild a door prize now? I didn’t know he could be traded like stock?”

     

    With Wildchild himself somewhat shocked by the declaration, Ejiro saunters up to the Bahamas Bomber and speaks again. “That is right Wildchild! So I want you to get on the phone to every friend you have! Make sure each and every one of them knows that I am only one loss away from letting you out of our little agreement and letting you back to your own devices. Because I am letting every enemy you have know the same. This could either free you up or make your more miserable than even I can make it.”

     

    “He’s right,” mutters Bobby, “this can either break Wildchild free or make things even worse for him!”

     

    Fasaki continues, “So all the challengers in the world, make your play! This titles… that man… they are both on the line! Bring the noise because … I … want … you!”

     

    “What a challenge by the champion to… everyone I guess,” calls out The Comet, “We will be right back with more action!”

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