Admittedly, not my best work. I had a hard time condensing this to 5500 words.
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It’s another one of them old funky Cypress Hill things...
You know what I’m sayin’?
*BOOOOOOOOOOOOMM*
“RAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”
As Smarkdown comes back from commercial, the viewer at home is greeted to the jarring yet energizing sight of a wall of blue and white pyrotechnics exploding upwards from the stage, doing so as Cypress Hill’s “How I Could Just Kill A Man” hits the speakers and the crowd roars its approval. A moment later, Stryke strides through the smoke and sparks caused by the pyro, quickly making his way down the ramp, slapping the hands of ravenous fans that surround him on all sides as he does so.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a Fatal Fourway match scheduled for one fall!” Funyon boldly announces. “Introducing first, from Sydney, Australia, weighing in at two hundred and thirty pounds...SSSSSSSSTRRRRRRRRYYYYYYKEEE!!”
Stryke reaches the ring and climbs onto its apron, where he slowly turns and looks out over the teeming, roaring mass of humanity. He grins to himself before climbing into the ring and beginning a simple stretching routine, doing so as his music fades out and the crowd’s enthusiasm slowly dies down.
“And welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, folks!” Pete enthusiastically greets the home audience. “Coming up next is a contest that could have a serious impact on the SWF’s upcoming Pay-Per-View, as the winner of this Fourway gets to choose the stipulation of the match they’ll take part in at said Pay-Per-View!”
“There is untold potential in this match for that reason alone.” King gleefully adds. “Just imagine what sick, depraved, monstrously entertaining stipulations Magnifico, TORU, and Jay have in mind for their unfortunate opponents.”
“What about Stryke?” LDP earnestly asks.
“Damned if I know.” King scoffs. “Maybe he’ll do his Australian heritage proud and decide to have a Drunken Kangaroo Boxing match at the Pay-Per-View.”
Mere moments after Stryke’s entrance is over, the lights are suddenly and swiftly cut out throughout the arena. Most of the audience already knows what’s going on, and immediately begin to boo...
“HEY HEY!”
*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOMM!”
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”
...doing so as Atake FDD’s “Tu Final” hits the speakers and a burst of red, white, and green pyro shoots upwards from the stage. El Luchadore Magnifico bursts through the pyro-induced smoke, illuminated by a single spotlight. The World Title wrapped around his waist and his Mexican Flag flapping gracefully behind him, Magnifico swiftly heads towards the ring, paying no mind to the tens of thousand of people booing his every move.
“And now, from Mexico City, Mexico, weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds...” Funyon begins. “He is the SWF World Heavyweight Champion...EL LUCHADOOOOOOOOOOORRE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”
Magnifico reaches the ring and slides beneath its bottom rope, then pops to his feet within the confines of the squared circle. ELM completely ignores Stryke and steps into the center of the ring, where he looks out over the audience with palpable disgust. Suddenly, he thrusts his flag high into the air, doing so as the lights are turned back on throughout the arena. The suddenly-illuminated crowd redoubles their booing efforts as an amused smirk comes over the luchadore’s face.
“Man, just imagine the hell Magnifico could put Todd Cortez through should he win this match.” King cheerfully speculates. “Ooo! Ooo! What if he picks a Ladder Match? ELM’s never lost one of those, y’know.”
“I’m well aware of that.” Pete mumbles, not at all intersted in the conversation. “In any case, three other people have the same ambitions as him; his focus right should be on defeating them, not Cortez.”
ELM hands his Mexican Flag and World Title to the ref, and as he’s doing so, Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly” hits the speakers, only to immediately be drowned out by the booing of seventy-five hundred annoyed Ohioans. The lights dim a second later, leaving the arena dark as Funyon’s husky baritone rumbles over the arena’s speakers.
“And now, from the Hall of Fame City of Cleveland, Ohio, weighing in at two hundred and fifteen pounds...” Funyon begins, “He is the Dean of Professional Wrestling, and the SWF International Champion...JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAAAAWWWWWWWWWWKE!”
Hawke finally steps out from the back, a single spotlight shining on him as he casually makes his way down to the ring. Jay pointedly ignores the spirited booing of the live audience, climbing onto the apron as though he were the only one in the building. He leisurely takes off his robe, folds it, and hands it to a nearby ring attendant. Under the watchful eye of both Magnifico and Stryke, Jay climbs into the ring, steps onto the second turnbuckle of the nearby corner, and throws his arms in the air. Another wave of boos pours in from the audience as the lights are turned back on once again, giving everyone a good view of this match’s first three competitors.
“Hell, imagine the torture Hawke could inflict on his unlucky adversary.” King wonders aloud. “Ultimate Submission...that’d be right up his alley. He could spend thirty minutes just tearing apart the neck of some poor jobber. Man that’d be fun to watch.”
Jay begins a light stretching regimen, having not yet even glanced at either Stryke or Magnifico. Well aware of who the last competitor is, the fans are already booing in anticipation when Therapy’s “Teethgrinder” hits the speakers. The music only encourages the live audience, who roar their disapproval as TORU, Tag Title wrapped around hsi waist, strides out onto the entrance ramp, flanked by Chris Card and Natasha. Not pausing for a moment, the malevolent trio quickly make their way down the ring, their faces cold and expressionless.
“And now, from Saitama Prefecture, Japan, weighing in at two hundred and sixty-four pounds...” Funyon announces. “Accompanied by Chris Card and Natasha...he is one half of the SWF Tag Team Champions...TOOOORRRRRRRUUUUU TAAAAAKAAAAAHAAAARRRAAAA!!”
Team Malcontent reaches the ring, Card and Natasha staying on the floor while TORU climbs up onto the apron. Keeping his head down, Takahara strips off his trenchcoat and hands it to Natasha, before doing the same with his sunglasses. He then looks up, locking eyes with every other particpant in the upcoming contest. Each one gladly returns the glare and stare coldly at TORU as he climbs into the ring.
“Well, it’s not like TORU will need any help in whatever match he should have at the Pay-Per-View.” King casually declares. “He and KOJI are completely of the division as it is. Still, it might be nice, and appropriate, I might add, to have the Tag Team Title on the line in a good ol’ fashioned Japanese Death Match.”
“Yeah, because that’d really endear us to our sponsors.” Pete mutters.
Once TORU’s in the ring, he retires to the only empty corner, as the other three have been filled by the match’s other three participants. Wondering who he pissed off to land this headache of a match, the referee looks over the four competitors, making sure each of them is ready to go. Sighing to himself, he signals for the bell, figuring he might as well just get this over with.
DING DING DING
The bell’s chimes resonate throughout the arena, and are complimented nicely by the anticipatory cheers that rise from the stands a moment later. However, their enthusiasm gradually wanes, as none of the match’s competitors have moved a muscle since the bell rang. What they are doing is staring each other doing, each man waiting for someone else to leave the ring.
“...maybe we should have flipped a coin backstage or something.” Pete speculates, somewhat embarrassed.
Eventually, the crowd grows impatient, and begins to outright boo the supreme stubborness displayed before them. Annoyed, Magnifico turns to curse at a particularly rude fan in the front row, jawing with the belligerent drunk for a few seconds before turning his attention back to his opponents. ELM turns around just in time to see Stryke dashing across the ring, charging towards the luchadore at a terrifying speed! Before he has a chance to counter, Stryke drives his head directly into ELM’s gut, slamming Magnifico backwards and into the corner behind him with a surprise Spear! The crowd roars its approval as Stryke begins to hammer away at the stunned luchadore, delivering quick punches and elbow strikes to the luchadore’s chin. TORU and Hawke look at each other, shrug their shoulders, and climb out to the apron as Stryke vigorously pummels the hapless luchadore.
“Well, that works too.” Pete comments, grinning from ear to ear.
“Says you!” King snaps, annoyed. “Magnifico takes the time to have an honest, open dialogue with one of our fans, and that conniving Australian goes and blindsides him with a downright dastardly attack. Simply mortifying.”
Eventually, Stryke lets up on his attack, only to immediately grab Magnifico by the arm and whip him across the ring. ELM rushes towards the opposite corner with Stryke striding only a couple steps behind him. When Magnifico reaches said corner, he grabs the top ropes with both hands and jumps into the air, throwing his legs backwards and onto Stryke’s shoulders as he does so! But before Magnifico can do whatever he had planned, Stryke grabs the legs and throws them off of his shoulders and over the top rope! ELM manages to pull himself onto the apron, where he’s immediately forced to block a quick elbow from Stryke! Magnifico fires back with a stiff shot to Stryke’s jaw, causing the Australian to turn and stumble away from the apron. Gripping the top rope with both hands, ELM leans back on the apron, anxiously waiting for Stryke to turn back towards him. When Stryke finally turns back around, Magnifico pulls himself onto the top rope, springs off of it, and flies towards Stryke, extending his arm in mid-air for a Springboard Lariat! But as ELM approaches, Stryke suddenly leaps into the air and lashes out with his foot, displaying remarkable accuracy and timing by slamming the tip of his boot into the side of Magnifico’s head! The impressed fans gleefully cheer as ELM crashes to the canvas, having been shot out of the sky by Stryke’s Jumping Enziguiri. Stryke immediately scrambles onto ELM and covers him, hooking the luchadore’s leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting...
ONE!
TWO! No! Magnifico kicks out at two and half, immediately silencing much of the live audience. Undeterred, Stryke rolls off of ELM, grabs him by the arm, and stands up, pulling the luchadore to his feet as he does so.
“Remarkable move from Stryke, as he counters Magnifico’s Springboard Lariat with an expertly-timed Jumping Enziguri!” LDP excitedly reports.
“Yes, come see the SWF, featuring the one and only STRYKE!” King suddenly cries. “Watch in awe as he jumps into the air and kicks, displaying the kind of sheer athletic ability only seen in Elementary School gymnastic exhibitions!”
Once he’s standing, Stryke uses his grip to whip Magnifico across the ring, sending him rushing towards the far ropes. ELM bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards Stryke, who greets the luchadore by leaping into the air and extending his legs, looking to wrap them around Magnifico’s head for a Hurricanrana. However, Magnifico manages to duck beneath the legs, skidding to a halt a few feet behind Stryke as the Aussie lands on his feet. Stryke spins around to face the luchadore, doing so just in time to see Magnifico sidestep towards him and throw his foot in the air, aiming it at Stryke’s jaw with a Superkick! However, Stryke manages to throw his hands up just in time, catching ELM’s foot right in front of his face! Magnifico has just enough time to shout a particularly nasty curse at Stryke before the Aussie throws the foot to one side, spinning ELM around on the mat! Before Magnifico can complete a full rotation, Stryke suddenly lunges forward and wraps his arms around ELM’s neck, locking him into a Sleeper Hold! Magnifico immediately begins to struggle and flail his arms wildly, greatly annoying Stryke in the process. He’s just about ready to drive ELM’s neck into the canvas with a Sleeper Drop when he sees TORU, feet on the second rope and leaning way into the ring, slap Magnifico’s hand as he uncontrollably thrashes around. Stryke pauses for a moment, shrugs to himself...and then suddenly falls onto his stomach, pulling ELM down with him and slamming his neck into the canvas with a Sleeper Drop! The fans roar their approval as Stryke immediately pops back to his feet, having not forgotten about TORU. However, TORU simply climbs into the ring, grinning at Stryke as he does so. Stryke can’t help but return the grin, keeping his eyes locked on TORU as the two men begin to circle each other around the ring.
“Does the unsportsmanlike conduct never end?!” King shouts, aghast. “How DARE Stryke perform the Sleeper Drop on Magnifico when he was no longer the legal man?”
“Well, it’s technically not against the rules to do so.” An obviously-pleased LDP answers, as he watches Magnifico roll out of the ring and drunkenly step onto the floor. “Besides, the more damage he does to ELM now, the less of a threat he’ll be should he get back into the match.”
Stryke and TORU slowly get closer to the center of the ring and each other, doing so as Card smacks the apron and gruffly shouts a few words of encouragement Takahara’s way. Eventually, both men simultaneously lunge towards one another, locking up in the center of the ring. TORU easily gains control, pulling Stryke into a Side Headlock. Stryke immediately begins to slam his elbow into TORU’s gut, trying to weaken his hold enough to escape it. After a few moments, he does just that and makes a break for the ropes...only for Takahara to shoot his hand out and grab Stryke by his hair before he can get anywhere! Before Stryke can wriggle out of his grip, TORU swiftly drives his knee forward, slamming it into the small of the Australian’s back! Stryke cries out and arches his back in pain, allowing Takahara to fairly easily grab him arm and legs and lift him into the air, parallel to the mat. Just as soon as he’s lifted, he’s pulled downwards, as TORU drives Stryke’s back right into his extended knee! The crowd “OHHHH!”s in sympathy as Stryke crumples to the mat after the Backbreaker, pain surging through his entire body. TORU casually falls to his knees and covers Stryke, hooking his leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting...
ONE!
TWO! No! Stryke kicks out at two and a half, wincing in pain as he does so.
“TORU gets off to an impressive start, as he deals a quick set of succesive blows to Stryke’s back.” Pete reports. “He’s made it even more difficult for Stryke to overcome Takahara’s frankly-overwhelming strength and agility.”
“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.” King scoffs. “The sooner TORU snaps Stryke’s back in half, the quicker this match can come down to its three real particpants.”
TORU rolls off of Stryke and quickly gets to his feet, leaving Stryke lying face-up on the mat. Displaying the less-endearing side of his personality, Takahara suddenly drives his boot into Stryke’s kidney, knocking him onto his stomach as the hapless Aussie twists his face and grimaces in pain. While annoyed boos pour in from every part of the arena, TORU mercilessly stomps away at Stryke’s lower back, a devious grin slowly creeping further across his face with each kick. After landing about ten stomps, TORU decides to really endear himself to the crowd by grabbing Stryke’s hair, lifting his head up, and scraping the sole of his boot across the Aussie’s forehead. TORU deservedly receives thunderous boos for his actions, the crowd’s shouting and jeering easily drowning out Card and Natasha’s applauding and words of encouragement. Meanwhile, Stryke, a hand over his face, rolls away from TORU and tries to climb back to his feet. Takahara’s not having any of that, however, as he grabs Stryke by the hair, painfully pulls him to his feet, and then drags him over to the nearest unoccupied corner. TORU unceremoniously drive’s Stryke forehead squarely into the top turnbuckle of said corner, allowing the thunderstuck cruiserweight to collapse back-first into it. TORU grabs Stryke by the shoulders and begins to simply slam his knee into his gut, repeatedly driving it into Stryke’s stomach and gradually knocking all the wind out of his body.
“The situation is getting worse for Stryke by the second.” Pete grimly assesses. “TORU is simply beating the hell out of him, severely weakening Stryke and sapping away his will to resist.”
“I’ll admit that it’s somewhat cruel of our favorite evil Japanese tag team wrestler.” King shrugs. “But damn if it isn’t entertaining.”
The crowd’s been angrily booing this entire time, failing to quiet down even when TORU finally lets up on the knee strikes. With Stryke barely able to breathe, TORU grabs him by the arm, pulls him out of the corner, and whips him across the ring, towards the far ropes. Stryke bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards Takahara, who lashes out with his arm, aiming it directly at Stryke’s neck with a Lariat! However, Stryke manages to duck beneath Takahara’s arm, skidding to a halt right behind him. TORU spins around to face Stryke, doing so just in time to see him leap into the air and kick his feet out, slamming them into Takahara’s chest with a Flipping Dropkick! TORU is knocked backwards by the force of the kick, falling into the ropes behind him as Stryke quickly scrambles back to his feet. The second he’s standing, Stryke sprints towards TORU and leaps into the air, extending his arms and legs as he does so for a Flying Cross-Body! Stryke makes perfect contact with the aerial maneuver, crashing his entire body into TORU’s chest and knocking him to the outside with it! However, Stryke’s momentum carries him to the outside as well, as he tumbles over the top rope and falls to the floor a split-second after TORU! Both men lie on the floor just a few feet from each other, writhing in pain as the crowd pops for the unexpected turn of events.
“Amazing set of moves from Stryke, as he catches TORU off guard with a Flipping Dropkick right before knocking him to the outside with a picture-perfect Flying Cross-Body!” LDP excitedly reports.
“Yeah, if only he was intelligent enough to not fall to the outside as well, that little burst of offense might actually have been worth something.” King helpfully adds.
Neither man moves for a few moments, spurring the referee within in the ring to begin his count.
ONE!
Immediately after doing so, the ref sees Chris Card coming up behind TORU. Card grabs his client and begins to help him to his feet, causing the ref to quickly roll to the outside and fend Chris off. The malicious manager leaves TORU leaning against the apron and spiritedly argues with the ref, distracting the official from a more serious breach of the rules. More specifically, Natasha creeping up behind Stryke, who’s begun to rise to his feet while being completely unaware of the imminent danger. When he gets to his feet, Natasha drops to her knees behind him and shoots her arm between his legs, slamming it into his groin with a paricularly vicious Low Blow! As the male contingent of the live audience winces, Stryke grabs his crotch and falls to one knee, completely overwhelmed by the pain. Seeing that Natasha completed her mission admirably, Card stops arguing with the ref, gives TORU an encouraging slap on the shoulder, and casually walks away from the scene. Having seen the same thing Card saw, a grinning TORU pushes himself off of the apron and heads over to Stryke, doing so as the angered fans furiously boo everyone involved in the act.
“Such a heartwarming display of teamwork!” King cries. “Doesn’t it just make you feel good to see people working together towards a common goal?”
“Usually, yes.” LDP conceds. “But not when said goal is the crushing of another man’s testicles.”
TORU steps in front of Stryke and grabs him by the hair, right before blasting him in the face with a cringe-inducing knee strike. Stryke is knocked straight up and backwards, falling against the steel pole behind him. It just happens to be the pole of the corner that Hawke occupies, and Jay looks on as Takahara then grabs Stryke around the waist and lifts him into the air, as if for a Spinebuster. However, TORU instead takes a couple steps backwards, putting some space between him and the pole...before suddenly charging forward, holding Stryke’s body in front of him! Takahara drives Stryke’s body directly into the pole, causing Stryke to throw his head back and shout out in pain and frustration as the crowd sympathetically “OHHHH!”s as one. Smiling at the reaction of his opponent and the audience, TORU drops Stryke on the apron and rolls the stunned superstar into the ring, right before rolling in himself. Takahara climbs to his feet inside the ring...and is immediately slapped on the shoulder by Jay Hawke! A shocked TORU spins around to see Jay quickly climbing into the ring, and just as quickly covering Stryke! The ref slides into position and begins counting, but doesn’t even get to slap the mat once, as TORU immediately stomps on Hawke’s back to break up the cover! The ref immediately gets in TORU’s face and insists that he exit the ring, while Hawke, having expected Takahara’s interference, simply climbs to his feet, grabs Stryke by the hair, and drags him towards the center of the ring. With the ref stubbornly refusing to get out of his way, TORU has little choice but to exit the ring, silently cursing out Jay’s “no tagbacks” policy as he does so.
“Hawke finally gets into the match, but it seemed to be at TORU’s expense.” Jay observes. “In a brief moment of inattention, Jay tagged TORU and got himself into the contest, perhaps wanting to take advantage of the damagae Takahara had incurred on Stryke.”
“That’s exactly what he wanted to do, Longdogger.” King boldly confirms. “Admittedly, the back is not the section of the body Jay prefers to focus on, but he’s flexible.”
Still holding Stryke by the hair, Jay pulls the beleaguered Aussie to his feet, right before lashing out with his arm and slicing it into Stryke’s chest with a Knife-Edge Chop!
*SMAAAACK*
“WHOOOOOOOOO!!”
The fans gleefully “whoo” despite themselves as Stryke stumbles backwards and falls into the ropes behind him. Taking his sweet time, Jay strides up to Stryke, pulls his arm back once more, and...
CHOP!
*SMAAAAAACK*
“WHOOOOOOOOO!!”
Stryke grips his chest and gasps out a breathless cry of pain, right before Jay grabs him by the arm, pulls him off of the ropes, and whips him across the ring, sending Stryke rushing towards the far ropes. Stryke bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards Jay, who steps forward and grabs Stryke by the arm and leg, right before swiftly and effortlessly lifting him into the air! Hawke spins Stryke’s body around in mid-air before dropping him down and extending his knee, slamming Stryke’s back over it with a Tilt-a-Whirl Backbreaker! Stryke simply rolls off of Hawke’s knee and falls onto the canvas, his entire body arched in pain. Thundering boos rain in from every part of the arena as Jay falls to the mat and covers Stryke, hooking his leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting...
ONE!
TWO!
TH-No! Stryke kicks out right before the three count, drawing a wave of hopeful cheers from the concerned crowd.
“Stryke eats another Backbreaker, this time Tilt-a-Whirl style.” LDP reports. “He’s really gotten the worst of it in this match; he’s been in it since the bell rang without a break, whereas every other competitor has had an extended break from the action.”
“Hey, that’s the price Stryke pays for playing with the big boys.” King rationalizes. “It’s cute to see him try and beat three of the best the SWF has to offer, but now it’s time for him to pick one to lay down for.”
Undeterred by the lack of a pinfall, Hawke rolls off of Stryke, grabs him by the hair, and stands, pulling Stryke to his feet as he does so. Once they’re both on their feet, Jay pulls Stryke into an Inverted Facelock and begins to wrench away at his neck, locking Stryke into a Dragon Sleeper in the middle of the ring! As the boos pour in, Stryke begins to flail his arms around wildly, landing numerous yet weak blows all over Hawke’s body. Annoyed by Stryke’s resistance, Jay suddenly drives his knee upwards and into the small of Stryke’s back, immediately killing the Aussie’s spirited struggling. A few moments later, Stryke goes limp beneath him, being held up simply by Hawke’s vice-like grip on his neck. Jay shouts at the ref to do his job, and the ref begrudgingly does just that, as he grabs Stryke’s arm and pulls it into the air. A moment later, he lets it go, and it simply falls, hanging lifelessly against his body. The ref shoots a finger into the air and lifts Stryke’s arm once more, doing so as the crowd begins to cheer and rally behind the awe-struck Aussie. The ref releases his arm...and it falls once more, causing a triumphant grin to come across Jay’s face.
“Stryke looks to have been completely knocked out by the Dragon Sleeper!” Pete cries, distraught. “If he doesn’t raise his arm on the third and final try, Hawke will be awarded the victory!”
“An appropriate ending for this contest, I think.” King contends. “Seeing him lying on the mat, helpless and completely unconscious, will be greatly satisfying, I think.”
The referee grabs Stryke’s arm once more and slowly, dramatically lifts it into the air. As a jubilant Hawke looks on and seventy-five hundred people shout at Stryke to snap out of it, the referee drops Stryke’s arm for a third time. It falls as lifelessly as the last two times...
...before suddenly thrusting into the air, the hand shaking and the fingers wriggling energetically!
“RAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”
A massive cheer rises from the rejoicing crowd as a pissed off Hawke looks down on Stryke with unbridled scorn and frustration. Stryke begins to desperately fight his way out of the hold...when Jay suddenly pulls Stryke’s body downwards, driving the back of his neck into Hawke’s outstretched knee!
“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”
The crowd’s reaction immediately changes to one of disappointment as Stryke crumples to the canvas, his body completely stoic and lifeless. Vindicated somewhat, Hawke drops to his knees with a big smile on his face and covers his stunned opponent. As distraught boos pour in from ever part of the arena, the ref slides into position and begins counting...
ONE!
TWO!
THHHHRRRRNNNNNNOOOOO!! Stryke gets a shoulder up right before the three count, drawing a wave of relieved cheers from the capacity crowd. Furious, Hawke pushes himself off of the ref and begins to argue with the referee, who maintains his position of Stryke having kicked out just now.
“No! No!” LDP shouts. “Hawke had taken Stryke down with a vicious Reverse DDT to the knee, but Stryke just managed to escape the pinfall!”
“Okay, now Stryke’s getting on my nerves.” King grumbles. “It was known from the beginning that he wasn’t going to win this match, yet he continues to act like he had a chance at doing just that. How embarassing.”
Having had enough of the referee’s idiocy, Hawke pulls himself to his feet and looks for the nearest unoccupied corner. Had he been paying attention to details, he would have noticed that there are three unoccupied corners, one more than there should be. As it is, though, he simply heads towards the closest one and begins to climb it, the crowd’s booing growing louder the higher he climbs. He reaches the top turnbuckle, turns towards Stryke, and stands up, ready to finish the Aussie off once and for all. Panicked by what Hawke might have planned, TORU runs across the apron and at Jay, grabbing him by the leg before he can leap off of the turnbuckle. Chris Card and Natasha rush after him, standing behind TORU as he struggles to yank Jay off of the turnbuckle! Hawke’s stubborn, though, and attempts to kick TORU away as Card and Natasha cheer Takahara on. As he struggles, TORU catches a bit of movement out of the corner of his eye, but ignores it in favor of concentrating on the task at hand. Unfortunately, that bit of movement happens to be Stryke climbing to his feet. He catches sight of what’s happening...and immediately sidesteps towards TORU, throwing his foot forward as he does so and slamming it right into the side of Takahara’s face! A mighty cheer is raised from the crowd as TORU flies backwards off of the apron and into Card and Natasha! The trio tumbles to the ground in a ball of flailing limbs as the delighted crowd grows louder than they’re been all night.
“Oh my, how unfortunate.” Pete unconvincingly emotes. “The entire team of cheaters was taken out in one fell swoop. What bad luck.”
“Sit there and smirk all you like, but this match isn’t over yet.” King snaps. “Stryke still has two other, much more talented wrestlers to fend off.”
Hawke immediately turns his attention to Stryke, doing so just in time to see him jump up and deliver a stiff blow to Jay’s chin. The blow knocks Jay back somewhat, causing Hawke to flail his arms wildly in an attempt to keep his balance and remain on the top turnbuckle. In the meantime, Stryke quickly ascends the turnbuckles, reaching the top rope as soon just as Hawke is regaining his balance. Before Jay can do anything with his new-found balance, Stryke delivers a quick European Uppercut under Hawke’s chin, which threatens to knock him off the top once more. Before Jay can fall, though, Stryke grabs him by the arm and legs, lifts him into the air, and holds Hawke against his body as if for a Fallaway Slam! A roaring pop rises from the crowd as Stryke leans forward...before leaping backwards and off of the top turnbuckle with Hawke in tow! As Stryke is flipping backwards Magnifico suddenly pops onto the apron and slaps Stryke on the leg in mid-air! Stryke executes the Overdrive perfectly, slamming Hawke into the mat with untold force and landing right across his stomach!
“Overdrive! Overdrive! Oh my God!” Pete cries, disbelieving. “Stryke hits his signature Moonsault Fallaway Slam and looks to be ready to win this match!”
The exhausted Stryke soaks lays motionless on Hawke, soaking in the adoration of the crowd and the glory of the moment...but is snapped back to reality when he realizes that the ref hasn’t started a count! Stryke looks up and at the referee, who simply points in the other direction. Knowing that he’s not going to like what he sees, Stryke looks in the other direction...to see ELM smiling down at him. Before Stryke can even react, Magnifico suddenly drives the tip of his boot into Stryke’s nose, knocking him off of Jay with an unforgiving kick to the face! An unbelievable amount of heat pours in from the audience as the smirking luchadore takes up the spot recently occupied by Stryke, hooking his leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting...
ONE!
TWO!
THHHHHHRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEE!!
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
DING DING DING
“Your winner, by pinfall...” Funyon dutifully announces, “EL LUCHADOOOOOOOOOORRE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”
The triumphant luchadore climbs off of Jay and to his feet, allowing the ref to raise one of his arms. An infuriating grin on his face, ELM looks out over the booing audience, absolutely loving the reaction he’s getting.
“What the hell just happened?!” Pete cries, as confused and annoyed as the live audience.
“When Magnifico saw Hawke looking for an unoccupied corner, he quickly hid beneath the apron, realizing that he was occupying the one closest to Jay at the time.” King cheerfully explains. “He was probably planning to tag Jay in mid-air instead of Stryke, but it works out much better this way, because it’s Stryke who ends up being humiliated. Magnifico tagged Stryke while he was executing the Overdrive, thus making him the legal man and the only one who could benefit from the move.”
“That’s the most cowardly, underhanded thing I’ve heard in years.” Pete spits.
“I know! Wasn’t it great?” King gushes.
LDP sighs. “Don’t let your disappoint in this match overcome you, gentle viewers. We still have a hell of a main event for you, in which Max King will take on Bruce Blank in a Steel Cage Match! Stay tuned!”
