Posts posted by Atlas
I'm in the same position as you are. What I've decided to do is buy a custom built one from this site and keep my current monitor. I have a thing against laptops and don't really like using them, which is why I chose this route. You can get an loaded PC for under $2000 from most custom built computer sites, especially if you know exactly what you need. Save the rest and get yourself a good flat-panel monitor. You'll need one if you want to save some space in your college dorm.
Tag Team Match
Frost & Longdogger Pete v. Micheal Craven & Sean Atlas
- Should I just follow the crowd and pick Frost/LDP? Nah, no thanks.
No Gravity Match
Tod deKindes v. Wild Child
- Wildchild might be moticated,coming off a loss, so it's him for the win.
Six Man Tag Match
Nathaniel Kibagami, "Deathwish" Danny Williams and Dace Night v. Justice & Rule and Janus
- Hard to call, what with so much talent on both sides. I say if both teams write the kind of match they want to (meaning no last minute rush jobs) then J&R&J should take it.
Singles Match - Non Title
Johnny "The Barracuda" Dangerous v. Tom "The Superior One" Flesher
- *flips coin*... Tom Flesher... *flips coin 100 times*... Tom Flesher x100
Singles Match - Number One Contender for the World Heavyweight Title
The Boston Strangler v. Jay Dawg
TBS needs this win more, and JD might have some connection problems. If both show up though, I'm not sure. TBS on a whim.
Catch-22 goes 0-4 for the night. That stinks...
Champions retain; kudos to all.
J&R = What in the blue fuck??
I do have one small comment about Atlas' match: I thought it was well done, but I would have appreciated if you'd told me you were going to use the Blood Frenzy beforehand.
I apologize for that. The finish was what I wrote first, so by the time I came around full circle to connect it to the rest, it didn't really cross my mind to do so.
Frost & Longdogger Pete v. Micheal Craven & Sean Atlas
Oh yeah, I call opening promo.
No, I think the next step is to solve a riddle involving walking and times of day first.
*Whips out his cock, uses it to slap Craven across the face, steals US title and runs away, holding his new belt in one hand and his cock in the other*
*shows everyone his cock*
Spike and Ash.
I need not say more.
Youth N Asia
I could host it on my personal server, if need be. Either that or the webstapce Johnny provided for the sites. I just don't want to pimp out his bandwidth myself.
Personally, I like gimmick matches. Fun to write, forces you to thin kin new, creative ways, etc. Take a cage, for example. There are so many different types of spots that can be set up using those walls that you can't do in a singles match. Same goes for a triple threat. The most recent one I had was against Johnny and MVS, which ended in me DVDing Mike onto JD, then pinning Johnny. We're now using that ending as a means to build a feud.
AS far as I'm concerned, book me in anything reasonable. Hell in a Cell, Ladder, Submission, Three Degrees of Hell (at least I tihnk that's the name for multi-gimmik 2/3 falls matches). Anything outside of a bra and panties, dildo on a pole or pin the tail on the ref match is good here.
The Amazing Rando
Jobber of the Week
US TITLE MATCH
Michael Craven © vs. Mike Van Siclen
- Craven needs to move on past this security blanket. He no longer needs the US title and might as well rop it. Meanwhile, Mike is more than capable of taking it off him.
Sean Atlas vs. Wildchild
Frost vs. Nathaniel Kibagami
- Kibs for the upset win.
HARDCORE GAMER'S CHAMPIONSHIP ELIMINATION MATCH
Dace Night © vs. Longdogger Pete vs. Johnny Dangerous
- Dace should retain here, but Johnny could pull out a win coming off the tag match on Smarkdown.
Janus vs. Jay Dawg
- Not sure. Depends how good Janus' already-finished match is.
OMG MEGAPOWERS EXPLODE SORTA KINDA NOT REALLY~! MATCH
"The Judge" William Hereford vs...Ejiro Fasaki?!?
- A close one, but I'll take Judge for the win via a very close round of curling.
Tod deKindes vs. "TNT" Taylor Nicholas Thompson
- Could've been save for later, but whatever. TNT's match to win, writing a no contest.
ICTV TITLE MATCH
"Deathwish" Danny Williams vs. Beezel
- Gotta take Danny here. But if Beezel wins, I officially challange him for the title.
NON-TITLE SINGLES MATCH OF GRUDGY GRUDGY WUDGINESS
"The Superior One" Tom Flesher © vs. The Boston Strangler
- It's hard to go against Tom at this point, what with all the defenses of late. I don't think he'll lose till the Pay Per View, if then.
Catch 22 is also a book though, so it may not be a copyrighted term. You'd have to look into that.
Surprisingly enough, the word limit didn't bother me as much as it usually does. The match came out pretty much the way I had it in my mind, though it all could have been written better had there been a better word cushion. Still, I only went 18 words over when I finished, and it only took the removal of two lines of commentary to fix that.
I showerd early and under the word limit. Go self.
Congrats Thugg. Great job on the degree. Six years? Damn.
Now onto finiding a job in the CS field. I bid you the best of luck.
“Operation Atlas in Full Effect”
So reads the headline on the front page of the New York Daily News. Lying in a stack of newspapers just like it, this one gets snatched up rather quickly. As the view backs away, it reveals a busy newsstand in downtown Manhattan, active with the usual fast pace of the Big Apple. Corporate office types run to and fro, drinking their Starbucks and trying to keep a briefcase, bagel and newspaper in one hand. They walk by peacefully, unfettered by anything. Even the armed guards patrolling the streets on which they pass.
Further down the street and to the side, past a fence that surrounds Battery Park is a bench, damp and soggy from the rain during the early morning hours. Normally, the park would be full of joggers and benches covered by the posteriors of all sorts of people. But on this day, a very odd one even for New York, only one man is seated here. Shown from behind, a clear view of only the upper back and head, he is revealed to be holding a newspaper in his lap. The headline on the paper?
“Operation Atlas in Full Effect”
The man nods and a sudden view of his grinning lips flashes before we return to the mysterious sight of the back of his head. He flips through the paper and glances over the article rather quickly, paying close attention to phrases like “...Operation Atlas shoulders heavy burden on...” and “...insofar, all has gone as planned with Operation Atlas...”
“It sure is. A few bumps in the road, sure, but Operation Atlas is exactly where it needs to be.”
He folds the newspaper up and tosses it to the side, glancing around at the people around him, rushing to get to wherever their lives take them.
“You know, I almost envy them.” He says to no one in particular. “So focused... nothing distracts them. Days from now they’ll be booing their little hearts out at me. Meanwhile, I’m sitting right here, free to approach or attack, and they haven’t got a clue.”
He stands up and walks down the path that leads to the street. Walking uptown, Sean continues to look at the passer-bys, none of which give him the attention that he’d get if his face was hidden. His thoughts are still pronounced though...
“It’s such a rush to do this sort of thing, especially here. They should know me, and they used to. But it’s unbelievable how quickly your fame rises and falls in this town. To go from nothing, to the top of the food chain... that’s an accomplishment. But when you fall, you plummet. You drop so far that they even forget who the hell you are. And in turn, you too forget...”
He turns a corner and walks up one of the horizontal streets that line the island of Manhattan. Seemingly aware of where he’s headed, Atlas continues forward until something distracts him for a moment – a flyer on the side of a sports bar, advertising the SWF’s visit to Madison Square Garden this Friday. He reads down the list of advertised names... Flesher... Neilsen... Frost... Jay Dawg... ‘And Many More!’.
“`Many more’. That’s who I am now?”
He shrugs it off and continues down the street. Carelessly stepping through puddles, Sean walks along as a homeless man hiding in an alleyway up ahead walks out of his makeshift bed, counting the loose change in his paper cup. Atlas gives him a momentary glance, just the kind that one would give such a character, and ignores him as he passes by. That is, until the man speaks up...
“You! I knows ya!” says the bum.
"No, you don't." Replies Atlas without turning around.
The man runs to catch up to Sean. “I do too! You’s one of ‘dem rasslers, aren’cha?!”
“Ya gotta be! I seen ya before, I knows it!”
“Listen, will a twenty shut you up?”
“Jus’ tell me who ya are, eh?”
Finally turning to the man, Atlas speaks up louder.
“How about you tell me! If you know me so well then go ahead, tell me my name.”
“I thought so. Here, take this twenty-spot, but yourself some more booze to rot you to your death and take some words of wisdom along with you. The ingrained knowledge of yourself, the fabricated identity of yourself... it’s like existing through a mask, so that the mask, and other people’s reaction to it is incorporated into your perception of yourself, even though the mask is not really who you are.”
The bum stands dumbfounded in the middle of the street as the generous man walks away. Atlas meanwhile, his face never shown through the whole ordeal, heads away from the lunatic. Repeating his last few words to himself, he wonders just who the guy thought he was: The man that wears the mask now or the image he used to be all those years ago? No. Neither.
“Just another deranged wackjob...”
Oh god, I hope there isn't a three way in my future.
First time those words have been said.
Anyway, I'm pretty happy with my match. Mask against mask seems like something fun to write.
That middle picture in your sig makes it look like Sean Atlas is dancing up a Storm, Mr. Atlas.
I think incorporating more dance moves into your repetoire will help motivate you so you never no-show again.
That's actually a punch, but it's the best picture i have of Atlas in action. But dancing for mativation...
Atlas peels himself off the canvas, struggling to his feet after that brutal clothesline and... moonwalks! He slides all the way to the corner, then shoulder-shimmies his way along the ropes, awaiting the rise of his opponent... then, timing it just right, Atlas shifts to the side and hits the ELECTRIC SLIDE!
Riley: YAH! IT'S ELECTRIC!
He stands, feet placed by the head of his opponent... and backflips...!
Sean "Doesn't want a DDR Match" Atlas
I no showed. For the first time. Ever.
*points out that he took Atlas' title*
Points at Crow's title....
Crow looks down, onto to see Atlas poining at the back of his eye socket.
Another visit to Japan just months after the last one? Okey doke.
Hmm.. on that card, the guy who won the Triple Threat newbie match went on to destroy the SJL and get bumped in three months...
Good luck to these three.
Simple. US Title shot.
I never really saw him as a comedy character. Taking a note from his original Bio, I figured because he fled Russia when the Soviet government collapsed on itself, he would be arrested the moment that he set foot into the country. Therefore, he's stuck in America, and illegal alien with no passport, thus no way to leave or retun if he does leave.
Why else would he still be here?
SLF SMARKDOWN Matches
in Smarks Wrestling Federation
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Here's the losing tag match. I've gotta take the fall for this one, as I didn't come through on writing it as far as timing or quality goes. Much of it was written too hastily, and even thought I wanted to do most of the work, I just couldn't plan it out accordingly. Maybe it's the lack of motivation to write a meaningless tag match, but still.
“The following Tag Team Match is set for one fall!” yells Funyon. “Introducing first, standing in the ring, at a combined weight of 520 pounds, SEAN ATLAS and the SWF United States Champion, MICHAEL CRAVEN!”
Funyon’s words echo away while “Cochise” continues to play. Craven, meanwhile, hands his US title over to referee Billy Chiota and steps into the corner, standing inside the ring. Sean Atlas approaches him, speaking through the mask and motioning for him to step to the apron. Craven refuses, and a small argument ensues.
Riley: Boy, those two hit it off real well...
Stevens: They better work this out before-
“OH, MY GOD! INCREDIBLE SUPERSTAR!”
An intrusive white explosion erupts across the stage, filling the entrance with smoke. “Baseline” by Quarashi blasts through the sound system as Longdogger Pete steps out through the curtain and walks across the stage, then down the ramp towards ringside. He slows down at the base of the ramp, waiting for his partner before he steps into the ring. Slowly, his music drifts away while he turns around towards the entrance...
Silver pyrotechnics explode from the rafters and Black Sabbath’s “Snowblind” starts up. A pale blue spotlight bathes the stage while what appears to be snow flutters down from above. From behind the curtain emerges the massive form of Frost, inducing a huge pop from the fans. He holds up one arm, fist clenched to signify their adulation, then strides to the ring. Clenching a Frost Brand cigar in his teeth, he drops it and puts it out on the metal ramp, then joins his partner nearby.
“And their opponents, weighing in at a combined weight of 573 pounds, please welcome LONGDOGGER PETE and FROST!
Stevens: Some of the men involved in this matchup have quite a history here in Minneapolis. This was the site of Frost’s handcuff match against Michael Craven, then known as Ash Ketchum. Ash suffered a brutal shot to the skull from a pair of industrial strength bolt cutters, but still won the match via DQ.
Riley: Hey, that’s right! He accused Frost of hitting him with a car back then. August of last year, I think.
Stevens: That’s right. And on another visit to the Target Center here, Craven became the number one contender to Frost’s Hardcore title, which he would eventually win. Later that night, Frost himself was defending the tag titles with TNT and lost them to the Bermani Cross Wizards after a 60 day reign.
Riley: Ladies and Gentlemen, your most knowledgeable wrestling announcer, Grand Slam Mark Stevens! Curry Man has nothing on this guy.
Meanwhile, back in the ring, Sean Atlas has convinces Michael Craven to step out of the ring, allowing him to start the match off. As Atlas readies himself, Craven stands behind him, smirking because Sean doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into. Their oversized opponents step onto the apron and Frost climbs over the top rope while Pete positions himself in their corner.
Stevens: Looks like it’ll be Atlas and Frost kicking this match off!
Riley: Let’s get it on, boys!
Frost looks ever so confident as he approaches Sean Atlas, causing the masked man to back away into the ropes. He uses them to spring off and charges at the Icelandic beast with a lariat... but Frost remains on his feet! Shocked at Frosts resistance, Atlas runs back to the ropes once more and tries another clothesline... and Frost still stands firm! Atlas hits the ropes a third time, but then Frost charges forward...
And PUMMELS Atlas down with a monster clothesline of his own! Amidst the crowd’s cheering, Sean stands up but is quickly taken by the arm and whipped towards the ropes by Frost. He bounces and returns to the iceman fearing the worst... and gets just that as Frost lifts him, flips him and DROPS him to the mat with a tilt-a-whirl slam!!
Stevens: Sean Atlas gets his first taste of Frost, and I don’t think he likes it.
Riley: Don’t even try turning that “taste of Frost” line into something insulting about me.
Stevens: You mean saying how you thirst for Frost’s juices?
Riley: Yes! Exactly... Wait, NO!
The enormous frame of Frost rises to its feet, standing over the doubled-over Sean Atlas as he stands up as well. He wraps his giant arms around Sean’s waist, then lifts him off the ground and slams him back to the mat with a Gutwrench Suplex. He powers himself back up while Sean brings himself together and sits up on his knees. Taking him by the hand, Frost brings the masked man to his feet and scoops him up onto his shoulder, the runs towards his own corner...
And DROPS Atlas face-first into the turnbuckle! Longdogger Pete lets go of the tag rope and steps back to avoid Atlas, but soon moves back into position once Frost removes Sean from the corner. Holding him by the arm, the Icelander whips Atlas diagonally across the ring where he staggers into his own corner chest first.
Riley: Craven just tagged himself in!
Stevens: Well Atlas definitely needs the help. He’s getting nothing done in there on his own, Bobby.
Just as Sean backs away from the turnbuckles, the thick, muscular arm of the Velvet Hammer slithers around his neck, clutching him from behind... and it brings him down against the canvas with an Inverted DDT! Immediately, Craven climbs up the turnbuckle, now being the legal man. Frost was unaware of the blind tag, however, ad as he stands up watching Atlas roll out to the apron, he is caught off guard by a flying Michael Craven...
Stevens: Hitting a missile Dropkick!!!
Riley: Good strategy by Craven, sneaking in the tag and surprising Frost with the aerial assault.
Stevens: For a second there it almost looked like he and Atlas were working as a team.
Riley: They are! Just not... intentionally.
Craven bounces off the mat and quickly gets to his feet before Frost does. Sean regroups on the outside while the Nightmare grabs the Velvet Hammer from behind. He barely locks his wrists in front of Frost’s gut and snaps back, trying a German Suplex... but the Icelandic Beast refuses to budge and instead, pries loose the hand of Craven.
He sweeps around the US Champion, locking his own arms around the Nightmare’s torso and in one fluid motion, lifts Craven off his feet, into the air... and SLAMS him down to the mat with a powerful German Suplex! Resounding cheers follow as Frost comes to his feet, dragging Craven’s body up with him. He lifts the US champ onto his shoulder and spins around, rotating in an Airplane Spin until he drops Craven and...
Stevens: The US Champion is quickly taken control of by the Velvet Hammer! Not to smart of Craven to try and use a German on Frost right away, was it.
Riley: Not really, but at least he tried to follow up on what was a good surprise hit.
Frost takes Craven by the legs ad drags him into the corner. With his back to Sean Atlas, Frost takes each of Michael’s legs in his hands and spreads them apart, exposing the very loins that produced Hollyanna, preparing to SMASH them with the sole of his shoe...
But Atlas clubs him in the back with his arm, saving Craven for no apparent reason! Enraged, Frost immediately turns around to take a wild swing as Atlas, but he backs away, standing on the ring steps. Frost turns back around and lifts Craven to his feet, then over his head and finally turns towards Sean on the outside. Frost bends at the knees and with one good heave, TOSSES the champion of the United States into his masked partner!
Stevens: What in the world has gotten into Frost??
Riley: I think there’s some resentment left over from his previous matches against Craven, some of which took place in this very building. On top of that, he has resented the Magnificent Seven every since leaving them, and Sean Atlas fits that bill perfectly.
Standing on the outside, Atlas and Craven bicker over which one of them is indeed the legal man. Bewildered, the referee makes a judgment call and chooses Atlas to go in. Sean tries to stay out of the ring, but Craven steps aside, bowing down and motioning “He’s all yours!” once more to Atlas. The M7 member reluctantly enters the ring, just as the behemoth Frost charges across it, raising his forearm up into the “smash” position...
OHHH!!! Atlas takes the blow hard, slamming onto his back, the ring shaking from the collision. Frost, though, reaches down, grabbing Atlas and taunting him as he pulls him to his feet. Sean’s eyes flutter open from beneath his mask, his first sight being Frost’s fist flying into his face! Sean tries to fall back, but Frost has his head grabbed, making the masked man into a punching bag for Frost’s right hand. Again, and again, and again Sean’s face is pummeled before Frost grabs Sean’s arm and whips him to the ropes like a rag doll!
Stevens: Frost is simply on FIRE here Riley, don’t you think so?
Riley: Well, he sure is hot.
Riley: No, no. I mean Frost is, uh, hot. As in, not cold.
Stevens: But he’s Frost. Frigid. Frozen. Cold.
Riley: Every time, Mark. You get me every time...
As Atlas flies back off the ropes, Frost grabs him in a belly to belly waistlock, lifts him up, and slams him right back down, driving Sean into the mat back first. The ring shakes loudly as the crowd cheers for The Icelandic Monster. For Frost, though, the fun has just begun. He grabs Atlas, and pulling him to his feet, nails him hard in the head with a left jab. Frost then grabs Sean through his legs and picks him up. Frost marches towards the turnbuckle as Atlas begins to recover from the stinging standing spinebuster, only realizing what’s happening when it’s too late. Frost smiles as he throws Atlas up into the air, the M7 member dropping face first onto the turnbuckle!
Riley: Once again, Frost drops Atlas on his face. Is he seriously trying to destroy whatever is under that mask?
Stevens: Possibly. I don’t think he cares what’s under there, as long as it’s a Mag 7 guy, he gets destroyed. Period.
Frost grabs Atlas by the feet, dragging him out of the corner before he covers him for the pinfall attempt!
NO! Kickout by Atlas at two and a half!
Frost can’t believe it, but he slowly rises to his feet, laying in a few boots to the face once he gets there. The crowd pops as he grabs Atlas by the head and pulls him to his feet. In the process he unleashes two huge right hands, then follows them up with a left. As he bends Atlas back a bit, Frost drops to a knee, dropping Sean back first across his knee, sending him back to the mat with a backbreaker! The Nightmare stands looking very concerned, but at the same time, he doesn’t make much more of a move to help his partner than to stick his hand out as he grabs the tag rope, waiting for a tag as Atlas writhes in pain on the mat.
Riley: You know, Mark, this really wasn’t the best pairing we’re ever seen. They fight two weeks ago, and now they’re partners? And against a team with so much momentum that they’re bound to win? I think there something wrong here. It’s as if Atlas and Craven were meant to lose.
Stevens: Don’t be so ridiculous. Sean Atlas and Michael Craven are two of the top talents we have. If they’re as great as they’re rumored to be, then they can overcome even these odds.
Frost once more pulls Sean to his feet and bends him over, striking him with a rising knee lift to the head! The blow knocks Atlas upright and causes him to stagger back, allowing Frost to grab him and whip him to the ropes. As Sean hits the ropes and bounces back, Frost grabs him. The Frozen One then shows off his strength as he presses Sean up over his head. He holds him there for a few seconds, spinning around to show the crowd before he throws Atlas down onto his back! Atlas hits the mat hard, and Frost delays for a second before he drops down to cover Sean again, the ref dropping to count...
Kickout by Atlas!!! The crowd jeers as the ref holds up two fingers, thinking that the ref screwed Frost out of a pinfall. Frost also looks befuddled, and slowly, he pulls up Atlas, hoping this time to finish him off for sure.
Riley: You know, we still haven’t seen Longdogger Pete enter this match. You think something might be wrong with him?
Stevens: Not at all. Why bother putting in an aged veteran when the young hoss is dominating so well?
Riley: You have a point, knuckleballer.
Grabbing Sean, Frost lifts him up over his shoulder so Atlas is facing upwards. This is followed by Frost holding Atlas in place and spinning around a few times, then he stops spinning around with Atlas, dropping him back first into the mat as he slams him down with an airplane spin slam!
As Frost gets to his feet, he pumps his fist into the air for only a second before it comes back down, Frost jumping off the ground. The crowd in the arena boos loudly as the big man spins himself around, pulling his legs up into a sitting position before he comes down hard on Atlas, practically crushing his chest with a monster spinning leg drop! Atlas lets out a scream of pain as Frost lands on him, and maybe, nearly snaps every rib in his chest! Craven shows immense concern, releasing the tag rope and nearly darting into the ring...
Stevens: I don’t think Craven wants to lose this match, and it seems like the punishment Atlas is taking is getting to him.
Riley: Obviously... but he might come close yet. Frost covers...!
Frost remains on top of Atlas, knowing he’s got him down on the mat as the ref drops to make the count!
CRAVEN BREAKS IT UP WITH A RUNNING ELBOW DROP ACROSS FROST’S BACK! The fans come to their feet, hollering and pointing as the referee holds up two fingers, Craven running like a scalded dog back to his corner as he gets up. He tries to make it back before Frost takes notice, sliding on the mat under the bottom rope... But it’s futile. Frost is far more intelligent than that, and with a turn of the head, he confirms it, catching Craven in the act escape. His demeanor changes and becomes quite angry as he grabs Atlas with one hand, pulling him to his feet, staring at Craven the entire time.
Stevens: Frost seems to be getting overconfident there, looking at one man while fighting the other.
Riley: Not the best way to go about your business. Not at all...
Exhausted and punished for the duration of an entire match, Atlas barely staggers to his feet while Frost simply looks at the US champion. They exchange profanities between themselves, stemming from history between the two. The referee stands in the small amount of space between them, hoping to separate them if need be. And suddenly, need becomes be as Craven ducks under the top rope and sneaks into the ring, yelling at Frost as he tries to get past Billy Chiota...
Stevens: Low blow! That was a blatant low blow!!!
Riley: But the ref saw nothing! He was busy groping Craven!
Frost collapses to the mat, holding his... snowballs. A smile appears on the face of Craven as he backs away, returning to his corner while Frost and Atlas lie in the middle of the ring, both seemingly hurt the same way. Slowly, they crawl towards their respective partners: Frost to Pete, Atlas to Craven. The tension in the Target Center builds up as they creep towards their corners, close and closer to tagging the men that will soon take over the battle in the ring...
Riley: Come on, come on. A little bit more!
Stevens: Who exactly are rooting for?
Riley: Rooting for? Oh no, I’m watching that hot little thing in the red leaning over the railing... Just a little bit more...
Stevens: You mean the popcorn vendor?
Riley: Yes, Mark. The popcorn vendor. The one with the tits and platform shoes.
Stevens: See? I knew you were into those.... hey, wait, what the hell??
Just before Atlas reaches Craven, he suddenly jumps up, summoning the strength that Frost did force out of him and he runs over to the Velvet Hammer, take shi by the boot and drags him into the middle of the ring! He then quickly dives toward his corner, tagging Craven into the match!!!
The US Champion storms the ring, jumping onto Frost like a hungry kid on free food. He pulls Frost’s arms back and places them over his legs, then hooks his chin to finally lock on the CAMEL CLUTCH!!!
Riley: Holy shmoley! That’s the Camel Clutch! That’s the same move that Frost nearly defeated Craven with back in October of least year!
Stevens: In fact, that was at Dissention, and Craven, then known as Ash managed to break of of it! Now it seems like he’s taking out that mall grudge on Frost, hoping to one-up him by making him submit!
Riley: That smart bastard! He could have used the Nightmare Helix, but no. Michael Craven is the MAN!
Craven pulls back, applying the move with more and more torque... Frost hollers in pain, screaming due to the shape that his back has become.... On top of the tenderness of his violated loins, he now has the US champion on his back and the referee in his face, asking for submission... Frost refuses, and continues to refuse...
In the corner, clutching the tag rope tightly is Longdogger Pete, reaching as far as his body can reach to tag itself in... Frost, however, is barely mobile, unable to crawl over to LDP... Craven tanks back, shaking vigorously a lot Frost’s back, trying to cause enough damage to the man to force the words “I quit” from his lips...
But no words emerge... Only grunts of throbbing pain and suffering... Suddenly, however, the grunts become groans of perseverance as Craven feels the mammoth beneath him rising....!
Stevens: MY GOD! Somehow, Frost is crawling with Craven sitting atop his back! How can he fight such strong resistance?!
Riley: it’s gotta be the Frost Flakes, Mark. They’rrrreeee Great!
Frost inches closer to his corner... approaching his partner and part-time trainer, nearly touching Pete’s palm with his...
Stevens: And the tag is made! Longdogger Pete is on his way in!
Riley: But where did Atlas go?
Stevens: Good question...
LDP rushes into the ring with the force of 500 well-bred horses, stomping away at Michael Craven. Seemingly a different man than the one he fought with so many times over control of X Force 9, Craven receives the kicks the same way he always has: rolling and whimpering to the force of LDP’s boot.
Frost, meanwhile, rolls out into the apron, clutching his back, neck and groin... all with two arms. (You figure out how that works.) In the ring, Pete gets Craven to come to his feet and takes him by the waist, lifts him off the canvas and SLAMS him down across his knee with a Manhattan Drop! Craven instinctively grabs onto his backside and turns around, but feels the large and experienced arms of LDP wrapping themselves around him... then pulling back...
AND SLAMMING HIM DOWN WITH A VISCIOUS GERMAN SUPLEX!
Stevens: Pete is on fire here, Riley! Even more than Frost was just minutes ago!
Riley: Perhaps he is, but I ask again, Where is Sean Atlas? Is he leaving Craven to do the dirty work by himself?
In the ring, Pete rolls Craven over into a standing position, gets them both to their feet and once again pops his hips... hitting a second German Suplex! The fans rise and watch the spectacle as the veteran rolls himself and Michael to a standing position once more, slams his feet against the canvas, pops his hips and DRIVES Craven into the mat with a third German Suplex!
On the outside, meanwhile, Frost is slowly regaining his energy in his corner while Sean Atlas is still nowhere to be found. In the ring, Craven has instinctively rolled over onto his belly so as to not be covered. Pete proceeds to lift him up anyway, however and takes him by the hand. He whips the US Champ towards the ropes. Craven springs off and continues to run towards Pete... that is until hi feet leave the canvas, lifted off it by Longdogger himself...
AND CRAVEN IS SLAMMED TO THE MAT WITH A SAMOAN DROP!
Stevens: SAMOAN DROP! COVER HIM, PETE COVER!
Riley: HE IS!
Riley: He kicked out!! Craven got the shoulder up!! This match still isn’t over. But where the hell is Atlas????
Stevens: I think he hightailed out of here, man.
Riley: I refuse to believe that he would... AND THERE HE IS!!!!
Atlas pops out from under the ring, standing directly behind Frost who stays on the apron! He grabs hold of Frosts’ boots and just as he does so often in the ring, uses a Rear Leg Takedown to bring Frost down to ringside!!! The Iceman’s head collides with the edge of the apron as he plummets, allowing Sean a greater opportunity to attack!
Stevens: Has he been hiding there the whole time??
Riley: I think so...
Stevens: What a yellow bellied mother...
Riley: Uh, mother’s son, he meant to say, folks. Not that other thing.
Back in the ring, Pete is oblivious to the action on the outside, focusing on his own battle after waiting so long to start it. He lifts Craven to his feet and doubles him over, then hooks both arms from underneath and signals for the move...
Stevens: THAT’S THE LONGDOGGER CLOGGER!
Riley: THAT’S THE KATAHAJIME CHOKE!!!!
On the outside, Atlas has managed to lock on his signature submission move on Frost!!! In the ring, Longdogger Pete is about to demolish Michael Craven with the Longdogger Clogger...
Stevens: AND HE HITS IT! COVER HIM, YOU’VE GOT IT WON!!!!
Stevens: What’s the damn referee doing???
Riley: He’s telling Atlas to get off Frost!
Stevens: he should be counting! Pete has the match won!!
Adamant to score a pinfall, Longdogger Pete comes to his feet and hastily approaches referee Billy Chiota. He grabs the official and points to Craven on the mat. Chiota quickly dives down as Pete returns to the United States Champion...
But gets caught!
Riley: SMALL PACKAGE! SMALL PACKAGE!
“Your winners... SEAN ATLAS and the SWF US Champion... MICHAEL CRAVEN!!!”
Stevens: What the hell just happened????
Riley: Craven stole a win!
Stevens: And Atlas is on his way out!
Sean Atlas drops Frost onto the steel ring steps, and darts away, jetting up the ramp. Craven, meanwhile rolls out to ringside and heads for the timekeeper’s table to grab his belt, then avoids Pete’s reaching arms as he runs past the ring and up the ramp right behind Sean Atlas.
Stevens: That is NOT RIGHT! They had no business winning that match!
Riley: A win is a win, Mark! You saw it, it was completely clean!
Stevens: Oh yeah, clean. Clean like the crash of your ass, Riley. We’ll be right back with some real wrestling, folks. Stay tuned.