JST
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Posts posted by JST
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J.R. has first worn the hat at the Rumble in San Antonio, and has worn it regularly since In Your House: Canadian Stampede.
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Spyke and i go way back. and why do i have this sinking feeling that the general hatred torward me by the general TSM at large is migrating down to the fed? what the fuck people. like any of you have room to talk.fuck it all man. there's no place safe i suppose. pardon me for fucking up your wonderful board.
I have no issue with you whatsoever.
+1 for WC's Carlin reference.
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IL, X-Punk, we'll edit in your marker in due course. Anyone who's free and wants to volunteer please feel free.And yes, there is a reason for 'my' match besides just ego. Granted ego may be the main reason or at least very close, but you'd expect nothing less surely?
Any problems or requests let us know.
I know I asked to have the show off (much appreciated, by the way), but outside of grueling work hours I won't be TOO busy. I could get in a "Tod is here" promo and mark a match.
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Who's thegooberguy in the Tiger Woods cap?That'd be my friend. We were four, so we split picture assignments two at a time as to not bug the same performer for four separate pictures.
I also got on his case about getting a Tiger Woods cap at first.
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Nope. Go nuts.
You know how Jim Ross always mentions in his blog that he's always glad to meet with fans? Bullshit. We first took a picture with Jerry Lawler, who then told us to stick around and wait for J.R. to come out as he LOVES to take pictures with fans. But the tone in which he said it indicated more of an intent to fuck with his colleague. Having worked some indies myself, I kinda know what it's like to deal with "marks". His knowing smirk was almost noticeable. Once the deed was done, J.R. couldn't get in his rental truck fast enough.
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He's about an average 6'2", 6'3". I'm just short.
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In an effort to further activize and make up other words about Community, I thought I'd start this little thread where you get to brag about your "celebrity" encounters. Surely a bunch as varied as ours has a story to tell. So go nuts and include pictures.
I'll get the ball rolling with my 2006 encounter from a Raw in Montreal, with none other than the man with the mic himself... Todd f'n Grisham! *
* Profanity added for sarcastic effect.
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Correction: put me down for Genesis only. These days, people are even moreso utter morons, and I come home from work in an even bigger mood to maim and murder the first human being I witness, rather than write. That way match quality will be better reserved for the grand-daddy.
I'll make sure to promo for the 2nd though.
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I'm there. And I'd love it if it implied that thing I keep bugging Toxxic about. If it doesn't, that's fine, I'm there anyway. Something tag title related perhaps.
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More. More!
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Speakin'o'which, Landon hasn't paid much attention to mine lately, has he? Or like, any of my promos...
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- Iced cap from work. Goodness.
- Guitar Hero: On Tour for DS. Youth Gone Wild~!
- Definitive Ric Flair Collection.
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It's getting late and I'm oh so close to finishing. I never had an official response to my request of an extension, but I promise I'll have my match in Dace's inbox by 7-8pm EST.
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I learned my lesson with the stupid sounding german name. Thus, I go with the safe bet of my initials. When you look at it, the new character's initials aren't much of a stretch either.
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I'm suddenly going through a huge blank-page period, so consider me off for July. I'll still try to produce something good for NIL, of course.
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That was tonight? Crap.
Apologies for failing to send something in to establish the Toronto presence.
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"You ok, man?"
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Wednesday, May 28th, 2008.
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"Yeah, I guess."
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Deep inside La Arena in Mexìco City, Mexìco.
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"Hell of an effort out there."
"Yeah. Not good enough."
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Tod James Stuart rests against a wall-adorned with a large black canvas adorned with the SWF logo. This area must be usually used by the television crew. In fact, various backstage employees are scurrying around, setting up equipment, taping cables to the ground, testing lights and generally ignoring the two wrestlers. In street clothes, his massive partner Daniel Smith leans on the wall right next to him. He offers words of wisdom as best as a 6'5", 285 lbs. teaching major can.
"Hey, back at the start of training camp, who was it that said it ain't about how hard you hit, it's about how hard you can get hit; then get up and keep moving forward?" asks Dan.
His eyebrows scrunching into a puzzled squint, Tod directs his glance towards his partner.
"I said that?!"
"Yeah. And I'm pretty sure you blatantly lifted it from that last 'Rocky' movie. Still a kick-ass line, though."
"Still. I just got a weird feeling."
"Why's that?"
"Well, these people seem about ready to set up a shoot here."
"Coming through!"
A crewwoman zooms by past the two men, carrying an unusually large make-up case.
"And then," continues Tod. "This guy with the mullet has been fiddling around with this light projector for the past five minutes."
Daniel turns his gaze to look behind him, spotting the aforementionned crewman. Using his best southern hospitality, he returns the gesture with a grin and a How You Doin'.
"Then there's that camera four feet away from us, pointing directly at us. With Gus seemingly waiting his cue to switch it on. Hey Gus."
"Tod."
"And that woman was Jan the make-up lady. She usually does the on-air talent. So considering the fact that we're standing in a featureless backstage interview area with the SWF logo, and that she was bringing this much make-up... I'd say we're about to cut a promo."
"With the airhead who can't string two thoughts together?" asks Dan with very minimal interest. Or that could just be his usual demeanor.
"We're rolling!" shouts another crewman.
...
"Hello, I'm Ben Hardy and we're backstage at Duck & Cover live from Mexico City!"
"...Well. Almost." utters Tod, to his fellow Canadian.
"I'm standing here with both members of the GTA Fight Team. And Tod James Stuart, you just went through a grueling contest with the World Champion Insane Luchadore, and unfortunately you were on the losing end. Your thoughts."
"It was a hell of a fight, Ben. Like I'm so fond of saying: we gave 'em hell. Sure, I'm a little disappointed I didn't win. Hell, who wouldn't be? Losing sucks. But it's part of the game. I may have been beaten by the better man, but I'm gonna turn that loss into a positive. It's like Dan The Man always says." he offers Dan a mightly slap of the chest. "I didn't lose to freakin' Cutthroat. I lost to the World Champion. The best wrestler in the company today. Some wait years to do this. Andrew," he then looks at the camera. "We were talking about paths. Our paths are quite different. But for one night, ours briefly crossed. And you came out on top. If that tells me one thing, it's that I wasn't ready yet. I'm a big enough man to admit that.
"That whole thing about my daughter? No hard feelings." continues Tod. "To tell you the truth, she doesn't even like wrestling. At her age, she's all about Spongebob and Dora. As this large motherfucker can attest to when he gets to babysit her." he adds a head nod towards his partner. "So, to sum it up, Ben. This is not the end of the road. Andrew; I assure you. I still love you like a brother, man. But this is not the end of us. When the time is right, we'll do this once again. In the meantime, Dan and myself, nowhere to go but up. Eventually, together, we're going to beat every team there is to beat..."
He scratches his temple with his thumb, his pinky in the air... inadvertantly flashing the shaka symbol. Upon realizing this, he sends a quick glance at the camera before continuing. Something in the eyes lets it be known this wasn't accidental.
"Once that's done... well... you do the math."
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"Sweep the logo... And clear!" shouts the crewman.
"Beautiful! Thanks fellas." says Ben Hardy.
Within the span of ten seconds, the equipment is packed and boxed and the crew is happily off on a coffee break. Daniel's face is now the definition of flabbergastment.
"...What just happened?" he asks, with little reaction.
"Don't worry about it." dismisses Tod. "I'll go change. Let's go get some cervezas."
...
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© SWF.com
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Brawl code: 0001-3065-1768
Like ErnieRowe, if anyone chooses to add me, let me know through PM.
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Well, damn. Here is my effort.
The graphic flies into place, depicting the upcoming non-title match. The confident champion and a potential new challenger."Coming up next," begins Mak Francis. "is a match that one of these competitors has been waiting for all his life. Toronto native Tod James Stuart takes on the World Champion, the Insane Luchadore in a match where the title will not be on the line."
"Tod learned of this opportunity two weeks ago at the end of our last show, and he's been in a whole new frame of mind ever since." replies Suicide King. "It's a scenario we've seen a million times, but it's gotta be so important for Tod Stuart. I'll say it again, just to make it clear for the humanoids; if Stuart can manage to beat the champion here tonight, then you gotta believe he's next in line for a shot at the title."
"Both have said very few in the past few weeks. Which goes to show the importance of this match. They've known each other for a while, but never really faced each other. There's a certain respect among the two, but that respect is certainly about to be put to the test in just a few. Let's go to the ring."
After receiving his three-bell cue, Funyon raises the microphone and begins speaking.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is set for ONE fall… and it is noooon-title…" he says, drawing out that last word for full effect.
The Beatles' "Helter Skelter" begins to play as the Smarktron video of Tod James Stuart comes alive on the giant HD screen. As soon as the twangy guitar riffs kicks the song into gear, Tod steps out with a quicker than usual, determined pace. Clad in his now standard Wrestling Clinic t-shirt and royal blue wrestling tights, the man has no time for brief repartees to the camera or even to acknowledge a crowd that admittedly starts to grow a certain appreciation for him.
"Introducing first; from Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Weighing in at 237 lbs: Toood… Jaaaames… Stuart!!"
He stops at ringside first to collect his thoughts. After taking in a deep breath and exhaling, he proceeds with a confident climb of the steps. Wiping his feet on the apron, he enters the ring and launches himself into a warm-up run of the ropes. Referee Matthew Kivell and Funyon barely have time to step aside and avoid the charging locomotive.
As the McCartney/Lennon composition fades out, Tod eases his exercize to a stop, settling for some light stationary jogging and rope stretching. The ten-second wait will almost seem like forever.
"And his opponent…" continues Funyon
Exploding red and black pyro go off on the stage, segueing into Alice In Chain's "Man In The Box" playing for all to hear. The crowd erupts at the recognition of the familiar theme song of their World Champion, in what appears to be a slight show of favoritism against the man in the ring. Very slight. Just as soon as the stage area is filled with the appropriate amounts of smoke, the man himself crosses through the curtains and advances towards the ramp.
"From Easton, Pennsylvania. Weighing in at 225 lbs. He is the reigning SWF WORLD Heavyweight Champion. YOUR Psychotic Hero: The Insane – Leeeeeeooooochadoooooore!"
Echoing the intentions of his opponent, the Ill One known to intimates as Andrew Rickmen is usually seen jogging down the aisle while slapping palms with the fans, but this time he opts for a more confident step. While no trace of psychotic grinning is evident, his eyes have been locked with his opponent's ever since crossing over onto the stage. With little wasted motion, he reaches the ringside area and eases himself up onto the apron. He enters the ring to find Tod James Stuart merely three feet away from him, with Matthew Kivell in between. Staring holes into his would-be challenger, Andrew Rickmen unstraps his championship belt, who then lets it dangle from his firm right handed grasp. Diverting his stare at the last second, he turns towards the crowd to give them a confident raise of the belt, to which they respond in kind with a respectful dose of cheering for the man who represents them. He then hands the belt over to Kivell, who in turn hands it off to Funyon who is already retreating to his table.
"Interesting note to mention here," states Suicide King. "Both men usually have a lively entrance. Tod comes out in a generally happy mood, giving his props to the crowd and Luchadore's always jumping around slapping hands like he had a fire up his ass. But you'll notice both men wasted very little time getting to the ring. This match is a matter of personal pride, respect, and dare I say, a little bit of ego. Both men are eager to find out who's better and this is their first opportunity to do so. I know I get on both of their cases often, but I think I'm just gonna enjoy this match as best possible."
"For once, King, myself and everybody can agree with you. This match has been almost five years in the making, and we're ready here! Kivell's calling for the bell and here we go!"
As soon as the bell sounds, both men instantly phase from their concentrated immobile states, to lively and circling each other, sizing up one another for that important first contact. After a brief tease of a leg takedown by the Luchadore, both men finally advance and connect into an intense lockup. The similar heights and strengths are the factors that seem to cancel each other out as neither man can maintain the advantage for more than a second. Luch decides to apply a little more pressure as he starts to back Tod into a corner. But Tod's minor 12 lbs advantage comes into play as he refuses to be backed against the proverbial wall. He manages to push the tie-up back towards the center of the ring, using Luch's minor distraction to break the stalemate and cinch in a side headlock.
"It's the most basic of wrestling holds, but Tod Stuart's got one of the best side headlocks I've ever seen. He doesn't just control the opponent with it, he literally grinds his arm into the opponent's neck. And with a guy who's taken as much abuse as the Insane Luchadore, you know that can't feel too good."
After a few more seconds, Luch is able to back up against the ropes and with a forceful shove, Tod is sent running to the opposite side. Rearing back with his right elbow, Luch finds that he has no target to smash his forearm against, seeing as Tod had immediately braced himself against the ropes. Dropping his guard, Luch goes back to the ready position, awaiting another lockup. Tod mimicks the gesture, walking back up to center-ring. He fakes going for the tie-up, which Luch buys. This is all Tod needs in order to capture his left wrist and turn it into an arm-twist. Adding a little more pressure as he turns, Tod adds another rotation before turning the hold into a rear hammerlock. Luch tries all available exits. He reaches his right arm towards the ropes, but Tod yanks him back to the center. He tries to grab Tod's head and snapmare him over, but Tod tilts his head backwards just enough out of reach. He then tries to reach between his legs to trip him, but the extra jolt of pain caused by the added cinch of the pressure ends that plan. This time, Luch's right arm comes up a little quicker, as he successfully connects with two stinging elbows to the side of Tod's head.
"When in doubt, Luchadore's gonna go with what works best for him: he hits you, and hard." notes King.
Following up the barrage, Luchadore manages to throw himself down to his side and counters the hammerlock with a drop toehold. Floating over into a front facelock, Luch grabs a handful of Tod's tights and quickly as possible, goes about muscling him up…
"He's going for the Implant DDT!!" says Mak Francis with a sudden rise in excitement that erupts from the crowd as well. "But Tod's fighting it!!"
Shifting his weight as fast as he can, only one of Tod's feet gets lifted. Hugging Luchadore's leg like a long-lost relative, he plants his knee firmly in the ground. The champion tries to break him off with clubbing forearms to the back, but Tod simply absorbs those. Regaining partial footing, he shoves the champion back first, hard into the corner and remains there. This prompts Matt Kivell over to fire up the count. After a little hesitation from both, the pile-up is finally dismantled as Tod is ordered back to center-ring. His glare directed at the champion tells the story.
"We were close to having a short match," says King. "But Tod had enough awareness to shift as much weight possible down and prevent Luchadore from lifting him up for that dangerous Implant DDT. And you know Mak, the conspiracy theorist in me says that the Insane Luchadore is seeing this match as yet another easy victory. I think Tod realized the same exact thing and he's not too pleased about that."
Both men now waste little time gearing for another lockup, but this time it's Luch who fakes out Tod by slithering behind him into a rear waistlock. He tries several times to lift him up into a waistlock takedown, but Tod's weight advantage again comes into play as he plants his feet to the mat and grabs hold of Luch's wrists, shifting as much weight as possible to them. Exploring his escape options, Tod finally opts with a quick downward elbow thrust that breaks Luch's grip. He switches positions with a crafty go-behind maneuver… and locks in the katihajime!
"And there's the Silent Scream!!" says the once-again excited Mak, with matching crowd reaction. "Tod Stuart's unforgiving chokehold submission, which put many opponents away before!!"
"Remember that move is at its most effective when Tod locks in that body scissors!" reminds King. "The move is lethal enough on its own, but once Tod throws himself down and traps you with his legs, you're history!"
Straining against the blood rapidly leaving his brain, Luchadore wildly flails his free arm around in a desperate bid to reach the ropes, but Tod is adamant about pulling him backwards. Luchadore finally uses his last few seconds of consciousness to use that against Tod, and backs him full force into a set of turnbuckles, effectively breaking the hold. Once Matthew Kivell has both men separated again, Luchadore is on one knee coughing up a lung while Tod offers a confident smirk. Now it's Luch's time to stare daggers into him as he slowly rises to his feet.
"Like we just saw, this match came pretty close to ending, this time in favor of Tod James Stuart!" declares Mak. "If it weren't for an act of desperation by Luchadore, we'd have had a nearly unconscious champion!"
After having a second to regain his composure, the champion is set for yet another lockup. His opponent complying, the two once again connect at center-ring. This time it's Luchadore who gets to apply the headlock, but Tod quickly has that one countered by shoving Luchadore off to the ropes. He bends down for a back bodydrop attempt, but Luch quickly sails over him into a sunset flip that connects!
"One!"
"Two!"
Using his reserve momentum, Tod rolls backwards out of the pin. Holding onto Luch's legs, he rolls forward into a jackknife hold, into a cover of his own.
"One!"
"Two!"
With a quick blow from both arms against Tod's ribcage, Luch breaks that pinfall in turn. He then grabs onto Tod's waist, and manages to muscle up both men into a flawless bridge. He spins around and turns it into a backslide.
"One!"
"Two!"
Tod throws his legs to the side, freeing himself. Before Luch can follow up, Tod captures him in a small package!
"One!"
"Two!"
Luch kicks enough weight into his legs to kick out of that one. Tod is quickly up on his feet and immediately nails Luch on the side of the head with a stinging forearm shot. This stops any momentum and serves to stagger the champion to one knee.
"It's been established, Mak." notes King. "Between these two; Tod Stuart's profession is being a wrestler. He will get you down on that mat and hold you down there. Whereas Luchadore's specialty is striking. Both men seem to include a little of both in their arsenal tonight, probably as a way to get into each other's heads."
At first glance, Luchadore doesn't appear too happy about the blow, but that's more likely the surprise effect. Tod is once again relentless with his smirk, eyeing the champion. Oddly enough, the champion returns the smirk and appears to mouth several words. Tod responds with a nod…
"Let's do this."
Both men converge into center-ring… and lunge at each other with a pair of dual forearm shots! Recovering first from the blow, Luch offers another elbow, but Tod is quick to reply with a stiff shot of his own. Both wrestlers trade elbow shots as the crowd definitely starts to approve of this match.
"So much for the scientific portion of this match, these two are hitting each other with increasing intensity! It's on now!" notes Mak.
Following a series of several blows from each men, both are noticeably staggered. But Tod is quicker to spring into action as he grabs hold of Luch's head in a half-assed cravate and brings him over his shoulder with a snapmare. With a brief headstart in the ropes, Tod leaps off his feet and lands a seated dropkick on the back of Luch's head. With a forceful shove, Tod has Luch on his back and falls on top, hooking the leg.
"One!"
"Two!"
Kivell's hand doesn't get to swoop down for three as the Ill One shoots his right arm up, negating the pinfall. He tries to regain his bearings and stagger up to his feet, but Tod is on him, shoving him back into a corner. Luchadore has thoughts of retaliation in his head, but Tod perishes those with a heavy back elbow connecting on Luch's skull. Following two more shots and a warning from the referee, Tod latches onto Luch's wrist and peels him out of the corner with an Irish whip. With a sudden spin of the hips, Luchadore manages to reverse the move and send Tod colliding back first into the turnbuckles instead. He then displays his intentions with a quick palm thrust motion, and quickly charges after his opponent. However, he doesn't have time to blast him in the jaw. Instead he finds a pair of standard wrestling boots lifted up at the last second, then being embedded in his face.
Reeling from the blow, Luch staggers back to see Tod sitting on the top rope and capturing him into a front facelock. Pushing off the middle strand, both men spin around in a 180 degree arc, as Tod masterfully plants his opponent with a tornado DDT! Wasting not a second to catch his breath, Tod quickly floats over into a lateral press. Matt Kivell again dives into position.
"One!"
"Two!"
Tod still fails to get his desired result as he sees the Insane Luchadore's fist rocketing up. His face scrunches into a look of determined annoyance as he grabs hold again of that wrist, and some hair to drag Luch back up. To prevent any resurgence from the Ill One, Tod quickly traps him into another quick arm twist. Likely adding more insult than injury, Tod uses his left leg to connect several powerful kicks to his opponent's chest, driving the air out of him a little more each time. Once Luch is sufficiently stunned on his feet, Tod now lifts up his right leg and rests it on Luch's shoulder, his sole pressed against the side of his face. He then takes the proverbial Nestea plunge, and throws himself onto his back with all of his weight. The impact is transferred to Luch's head and arm, to which he reacts accordingly by contorting on the mat, holding his head in pain.
"Nice!" declares King, sounding legit surprised at complimenting a "fan favorite".
"A hell of a nice move, like my partner says." adds Mak Francis. "Keeping up with the hockey theme, Tod Stuart calls this move the Slapshot! He'd been looking for a way to get it in somehow, and what better way to insert your foot into someone's face…"
"I've said it before, I'm not a fan of the GTA Fight Team's stupid names for their moves. But I gotta hand it to this one. I can't imagine a hockey puck flying full speed into your head feeling that much better!"
Still holding his face in agony, the Ill One had retreated to a set of ropes, leaning against them to gain a breather. But Tod is immediately on him, trapping him into another front facelock. Hooking Luch's arm around his own head; you, me, and everyone at home would think that a standard vertical suplex is in order. So does Luch, as he already has the move telegraphed, and blocks it by dropping to one knee, hooking Tod's leg with his arm. Following several hard body from the Canadian, Luch is back into suplex position and is easily lifted in the air. But that doesn't last long as the champ shifts his weight in mid-move and lands both feet behind. Wasting no motion, Luch spins Tod around and buries a knee into his midsection. Locking on a double collar clinch, the Luch drills Tod with a series of vicious Muay Thai knees to the chest, with a little added pressure in retaliation for the earlier kicks. He releases the clinch and tries to finish off his 5-hit combo with a wild haymaking right… but Tod catches him! Into the uranage position, Tod drives the back of Luch's neck into his knee. He quickly muscles him back up and completes the move with a lightning fast STO! He falls on top for another pincover, hooking the leg.
"One!"
"Two!"
"Th-!"
With the annoyance building up, Tod can't help but send a glare directed at Matthew Kivell in the heat of the moment. But, undeterred in his duties, the official is quick to flash the devil horns in the Canadian's. Now grabbing two handfuls of hair, Tod brings the champion back to his feet and locks him once again into a front facelock. Throwing Luch's arm up and over his head, Tod also grabs a handful of his opponent's shorts and effortlessly lifts him up into the air with a vertical suplex. Rather than completing the move and dropping on his back, Tod walks a few steps forward and nonchalantly drops his opponent stomach-first onto the top rope. Ignoring Matt Kivell's warnings of keeping it within the ring, Tod makes sure to steady Luch's prone body still on the ropes. Once that's done, he eyes the opposite ropes… and takes off with a running start.
"He's going for that combination Sunset flip/powerbomb he's done to so many people before." notes Suicide King. "That move is pretty versatile, meaning if the guy holds onto the ropes too tight and doesn't wanna take the move, you can just wipe his feet out from under him and smash his face on the apron!"
Bouncing back from the ropes, Tod gets ready to leap forward and over what he thought was his still prone opponent. But instead he sees at the last second, an Insane Luchadore who managed to prop himself back down to his feet in record time, leapt up aided by the ropes to raise his bent right leg and welcome the charging Canadian with a vicious knee to the head!
"That'll turn the tide!" says Mak Francis. "This is Luch's favored method of hitting you, and he just put it to good use! With that one quick move, Tod Stuart is almost out on his feet!"
With the cobwebs now finally cleared, the focused champion awaits his challenger for a taste of his own offense. Remaining on the ring apron, Tod staggers back towards him, intent on mainting his quickly decreasing advantage. Luch reaches over the ropes with his left arm and wraps it around Tod's head. With Tod following along for the ride, he then runs the length of the ring apron, gracefully walks up the turnbuckles in the span of a half-second, and drops down to the adjacent apron, driving Tod's face into the top turnbuckle! Tod now holds his face in pain, resting up against the same corner pad he was introduced to. Not letting up, Luchadore quickly vaults up to the top rope occupied by his almost-challenger, and fluidly leaps off in a perfect vertical form, driving both feet into Tod's upper-back! Fearing a neck injury, Tod staggers backwards, cradling his most precious limb. Luch is quickly on him, grabbing a side/rear waistlock and lifting Tod up as if for a back suplex. Rather, he sits him on top of the very turnbuckle he had just jumped from. Making sure to lock his legs under the top corner pad, Luch eases Tod into an upside-down position. Woe is Tod…
"I don't like where this is going…" says Mak, having witnessed the upcoming move before.
With a determined step towards the opposite corner, Luch first stops to acknowledge the crowd with a confident chest thump. Eagerly returning the greeting with a cheer, the fans watch in approval as Luch lunges forward and back to his previous position as he nails Tod with a mean basement dropkick! Hanging like the proverbial failed dishrag, Tod is helpless as Luch lifts him up by the head into a horizontal position, and into a rear facelock. With another quick roar for the crowd, Luch leaps up and backwards, driving the back of Tod's head into the mat with the elevated reverse DDT! He falls on top for the pincover.
"One!"
"Two!"
"Thre-!"
Getting the most out of the count, Tod shoots the shoulder up. Using the double collar clinch once again to shield himself from any potential counterattacks, Luch lifts up Tod to his feet again. Once he has him up to full vertical, Luch unleashes his familiar striking combination. A right kick to the thigh. Left kick to the other. Right kick to the midsection. A quick raise of the left knee to fake a kick, prompting the dazed and defiant Tod to quickly shift his guard to his right. This allows Luch to blast him in the head with a powerful elbow! Taking two steps back, Luch completes the sequence with a basic kick to the stomach that serves to hunch Tod over and allows Luch to grab him with another front facelock.
"We all know what follows that striking sequence." says Mak. "I can't say it'll feel too good for Tod in a few seconds."
Cranking on the hold, Luchadore briefly shifts his focus towards Tod's back. Using his free arm, Luch targets his spinal area… and begins raining down hard elbow shots. Before Tod has any time to react, Luch throws himself backwards and plants his opponent with a DDT! His body rolls onto his back, allowing Luch to hover over with a lateral press.
"One!"
"Two!"
"Thre-!"
"No!!" bellows Matthew Kivell, his eagle-eye spotting Tod's arm lifting up.
The look on Andrew's face says it all. "I'm the World Champion, this guy is taking my best offense and he's getting up". A combination of being impressed, yet starting to get annoyed. Luch regains his feet while Tod maintains a vain effort to do the same. All Luch can do is watch as Tod grasps blindly at his opponent's knee pads and gear in order to get up. After enough hesitation, Luch decides to lock elbows with Tod in a respectful manner, acting as the human fulcrum that will help the Canadian up to his feet. But that was simply because it was easier to then catch him into a Half-Nelson, lift up his entire body and slam him down hard with a facebuster! Unrelenting, Luch is quickly back on his feet and darting for the closest set of ropes. Bouncing back, he leaps off both feet and scores with a double stomp on the small of Tod's back! Luch barely sticks the landing, as Tod contorts himself on the mat in new levels of pain he'd yet to experience. Rather than go for another pin, Luchadore steps over his prone opponent, who's still face down. He bends over to place Tod's arms on his legs and reaches forward to lock his hands under his chin. Once the move is secured, Luch does nothing much but apply pressure.
"There's that camel clutch the champ likes to use! He hasn't worked on the back a whole lot in this match. But with that double stomp we just saw, anything's possible! We could witness Tod Stuart submit for the very first time in a long time!" says Mak.
"Hell, I don't think I've ever seen this guy submit." adds King. "The closest I recall ever seeing was back during his days in the Junior Leagues. He was in a match with Danny Williams and he did a hell of a number on his shoulder. Even then, he didn't want to tap out! The referee had to stop the match and pry Danno off of him!"
"These next few seconds could go a long way in determining the future of both men!" declares Mak. "On one hand, if the pain is too much and Tod has to submit, then it's another night at the office for our champion. Stack 'em, pack 'em and rack 'em, and Luchadore moves onto the next challenger. However, Tod is in tremendous pain and he's fighting the hold with everything he's got! If he manages to overcome this, and somehow win this; then it's like you said, King. He'll have taken a giant leap up that ladder and will definitely be deserving his shot at the title!"
"But it's a path that few have taken and survived, Mak." observes King. "It's a hard and dangerous path, and in the next few seconds, we're gonna find out if Tod is ready for such a path!"
With Matt Kivell on him like white on bread, the look on Tod's face tells the story as he refuses to give up. With a resounding "NO!" upon each of Kivell's question, Tod is relentless in trying to reach for that elusive bottom rope that seems to taunt him mere feet away. The champion seems to add some persuasion attempts of his own, all of this captured by the camera mic…
"Give up!!"
" NO!!"
"Give up, goddamn it!!"
"NO WAY!!"
"I'll break your fucking back if I have to!!"
"FUCK YOU!"
That last suggestion seems to have been the key moment of the match, because Luchadore… releases the hold?! He quickly shifts position, throwing himself on his stomach, as if to be perfectly face to face with the still agonizing Tod. He holds him up by the hair as to properly address him.
"I'm the fucking champ, Tod!! I'm the man to beat! I told you not to fucking go there!! You are not taking this from me!!" bellows the angry champion to his kneeling opponent. "Save yourself the trouble--…"
That last sentence from the champion is interrupted as he was leaving himself open for a picture-perfect elbow strike to the side of the head! Feeling the second wind overtaking him, Tod is gradually regaining his footing, caving in Luch's cheek and temple with his padded elbow along the way. While the crowd starts to approve of the display of Canadian stubbornness, Tod has elbowed his opponent all the way to the ropes, prompting Matt Kivell to force the break. Once that's done, Tod spots a target he can't ignore: Luchadore's open back. He pounces onto him, locking on a rear waistlock. Dragging him to center-ring, he heaves him up and backwards, connecting with a German suplex! Rather than hold onto the bridge, Tod rolls himself and his opponent to his left, and muscles his opponent back to a standing position. Despite the forever-tarnished reputation of the man who popularized this move, the crowd starts to heat up even more as Tod connects with a second flowing German suplex. Rolling once again to their side, both men are once again up on their feet. Not for long, as Tod chains into a third German! This time, he holds onto the bridge. Matt Kivell swoops in with the count.
"One!"
"Two!"
"Th-"
"'The hell is he doing?!" asks Suicide King at the sight of Tod rolling his opponent to the side again.
The sufficiently dazed Insane Luchadore is helpless as Tod still maintains a firm grasp on the waistlock, sending out a fierce battle cry to a crowd that definitely starts to gain some respect for him. With a seemingly renewed energy, Tod lifts up his opponent once more and concludes his onslaught with a fourth and final German suplex. Rather than hold the bridge again, he simply lets Luch collapse in a heap on the mat. Rising up to his feet, his gaze locked onto his fallen opponent, he finally looks up to the cheering crowd… and caps it off with a deliberate slash of the throat.
"This could be it, partner!" says Mak Francis. "He could be going for the Silent Scream, the same move he nearly had at the start of this match."
With two handfuls of hair, Tod slowly retrieves his opponent from the mat and backs him into a corner. With wrist in hand, he tosses the champion with a cross-corner Irish whip that's so hard that Luch collides chest first against the corner. Watching him step out on shaky legs, Tod tosses out his familiar arms-out taunt, signifying his intentions. Once within range, Tod locks in the half-nelson choke and holds on for dear life.
"There it is again; the Silent Scream!" yells Mak over the noise.
"Remember the body scissors, Mak!" reminds King. "As long as it's not in, Luch still has a chance to fight out of it!"
After a scary few seconds for the die-hard Luchadore fans, fight out of it he does. Before he could be trapped in the aforementionned hold, Luch managed to hook his free right arm around the corner pad, ensuring the break from the official. Relentless as always, Tod zeroes in on what he thinks is his fading opponent, but Luch has a resurgence of his own! Aiding himself by the ropes, he lifts up both feet and rests his ankles on Tod's shoulders. Before the Canadian can react; Luch uses his right foot and kicks Tod square in the forehead! Twice! Using the brief reprieve, Luch shifts himself on the top rope, a position all-too familiar to many.
"The Brink Of Insanity coming up! But Tod's fighting the Full Nelson!" yells Mak.
The crowd is on their feet at the image of their champion positionned on the top rope, with a Half Nelson almost locked in while Tod strains to keep his other arm away from Luch's grasp, and his foot clutching the bottom rope to boot. In a desperation move, Tod throws all of his weight forward, resulting in the unsteady champion flying forward and flipping over back first hard on the mat! Never one to ignore the proverbial opening of a door, Tod locks Luch in the Burning Hammer setup! Sweeping his legs out from under him, Tod drives the champion's head hard into the mat! He pounces on the fallen champ, furiously hooking the leg.
"And there's the aptly named Brain Go Splat!!" yells out Mak. "This could do it!"
"ONE!"
"TWO!!"
"THREE!!!"
The bell resounds. The crowd erupts. He's hearing music that's definitely his. His first thought is his little girl sitting on his girlfriend's lap. Daddy's coming home a winner.
"The winner of this bout: Tooooood – Jaaaames – Stuart!!" says Funyon, making it official.
He has just beaten the unbeatable World Champion. From now on, mostly everything is a blur. He doesn't even realize Matt Kivell is holding up his hand. He didn't even realize that the dazed Insane Luchadore has slid out of the ring, clutching his belt in one hand, and holding the back of his head with the other. He's staring at the man who managed to do what no one could do recently. The look in his eyes says it all. This isn't over.
His thoughts finally clearing up, Tod finally locks eyes with the man he just beat. He realizes it.
The box is opened.
He went there.
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I just racked my brain trying to write what I hope will be a good match against the freakin' world champion, to the point where no further racking is possible for fear of drain bamage. I'm not sure I feel ready to go through that again.
So yeah, put me down for the 25th only. I'll do my best to promo intensively for the 11th.
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I believe Jericho beat Malenko for the vacant cruiserweight (or maybe TV) title at Bash at the Beach in 1998.It was Jericho that won the Cruiserweight title. Dean had vacated it to prove he could win it legit from Jericho.
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Stop distracting my writing with these good promos, damn you.
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Same here, but it's mostly stuff about the tag partner that can be used as minor discussion points. But do check it out.
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This shall be, as they say, interesting...
Heels/Faces and a general WTF
in General Wrestling
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Props to Richard for bringing forward reasonable answers, but a thread like this invites chaos.