Toxxic

Team Canada vs Danny Meadows TBEI

“Monster” by the Automatic is already playing as the screen fades back into the ring. Big Panic is in the ring, trying to motivate the crowd into a chant. “The following contest is scheduled for one fall,” says Funyon. “Currently in the ring, from the Ninth Circle of Hell, by way of Loughborough, England, and weighing three hundred twelve pounds… PANIC!” Panic appears to be his usual jovial self, unconcerned with whom he will be expected to face in the ring, happy instead just to be collecting a paycheck. As the opening strains of Busta Rhymes’ “Call the Ambulance” would prove, however, signing an open contract isn’t exactly the smartest thing one can do, as an angry Tracy Bruner storms down to the ring, barely restrained by his manager. “His opponent,” says Funyon, “being accompanied by Sir Marvelous, from the Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn, in New York City, weighing four hundred fifty-five pounds… BIG Bully BRUUUUUNER!” “Mak Francis back here with the Suicide King,” says Mak, “as Mister Bruner makes his way down to ringside for a one-on-one match with Panic. King, I wouldn’t want to be the guy standing in the ring against Bruner, with the mood he’s in!” “Well, 2008, which was looking to be very promising for Mister Bruner around the summertime, ended on a very low note for him,” says King. “He had a very disappointing December, suffering what many people considered to be an upset in the Cold Front Classic against Michael Alexander, despite the fact that Alexander is a former World’s Heavyweight Champion. Obviously, he’s in a very bad mood, and he’s going to be looking to get the bad taste of 2008 out of his mouth, here in the New Year. And, unfortunately, that’s probably going to come at Panic’s expense.” “I tell you what,” says Mak, as Bruner walks up the steel steps to the apron, “I can’t see Bruner’s eyes, and I’m not sure I’d want to right now, but I’d have to be pretty hard up for money to sign an open contract with a guy like Bruner even on the roster!” Bruner steps over the ropes to enter the ring, and removes his jacket and fedora, handing them over the top rope to Sir Marvelous, as “Call the Ambulance” fades out. Referee Matthew Kivell motions to the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match: DING! DING! DING! “Bell’s gone,” shouts Mak, “and we’re underway!” Panic and Bruner lock up in the center of the ring for a collar-and-elbow tie-up, but Bruner quickly shifts into a side-headlock and, while the referee’s vision is obscured, jams the flat of his hand into Panic’s throat! The Bully then punches the jolly Brit in the midsection to double him over, before delivering a sequence of punishing axe-handle blows that drop Panic to one knee; once he has his opponent to a knee, Bruner cranks the intensity up another notch, clasping his hands together and bringing them down repeatedly to the back of Panic’s head with clubbing double axe-handle blows that quickly leave him flat on the canvas! “Whoa!” shouts Mak. “Mister Bruner wasting no time making Panic sing for his supper!” Bruner runs to the edge of the ring, picking up speed as he bounces off the ropes, and leaps into the air to deliver a devastating elbowdrop… BANG! … But his elbow smashes against the canvas as Panic rolls out of the way! The Jolly Brit rolls to his knees and quickly charges towards Bruner on all fours, colliding into his with a crawling headbutt! “Shades of the Junkyard Dog!” shouts Mak, as another such headbutt sends Bruner rolling over to the edge of the ring, “and Panic finding a little offense of his own!” Panic pulls himself to his feet to give chase; Panic meets up with Bruner as the Bully is using the ropes to pull himself back to his feet, and tries to keep him off balance with a few axe-handle blows of his own. He then follows up with a few standing headbutts as Bruner continues to rise, and then a rake of the eyes, before grabbing him by the wrist and whipping him across the ring. WHAM! Bruner reverses the whip, however, and runs Panic over as he bounces off the ropes with a Vader-esque running body-block! “Well, give Panic credit for not backing down from Mister Bruner,” says King, “and he’s a big guy in his own right, but Bruner’s just on another level right now!” Bruner runs across the ring as Panic is getting to his feet, and levels him with a clothesline that sends him over the top rope and down to the arena floor! Bruner steps over the top rope onto the apron, and then drops down to the arena floor; he pulls Panic to his feet as the referee begins his count, and pushes him back-first against the hard steel edge of the ring apron! He pulls Panic away from the edge, only to throw him back into it several more times. Bruner then rolls underneath the bottom rope, and back onto the floor, to interrupt the referee’s count. “Man,” reflects Mak, as the Bully drives his knees repeatedly into Panic’s midsection, “Bruner must be some kind of mad; it looks like he wants to inflict as much punishment as he can on Panic out there.” Bruner grabs Panic by the back of the head and leads him over to the corner of the ring, before smashing him headfirst into the solid-steel ringpost! He then grabs him by the wrist and whips him across the arena floor, sending him crashing into the ring steps! Bruner returns to the inside of the ring, and then deliberately interferes with referee Kivell’s count, forcing him to start again. Bruner sidles over towards the edge of the ring, and drops into a low crouch as Panic wearily pulls himself back onto the apron; the Jolly Brit meanders between the top and middle ropes to enter the ring… WHAM! And Bruner rushes across the ring to blast Panic in the side of the head with a running kneelift! Panic falls inside the ring, and Bruner kicks him until he rolls his head underneath the bottom rope. At that point, the Bully steps onto the bottom rope, using his immense weight to press the bottom rope against Panic’s throat! “This is a mugging!” cries Mak, as Kivell begins to administer a five-count. “Bruner’s choking Panic with the ropes!” Panic flails his feet impotently, as he fights to remain conscious. “You need to relax, Francis,” replies King, as Bruner takes his foot off the bottom rope just short of the five-count, only to press his foot back down immediately after. “He’s got until five to break… and there you go, breaking with plenty of time!” “Yeah, but he went back and did it again!” complains Mak, as Bruner lifts his foot ahead of a second five-count, only to drop it back down again. Bruner raises his foot again, this time at a count of two, only to jump off his other foot, using the top rope to guide him as he crashes down onto Panic’s chest cavity! “I tell you what,” says King, as Bruner pulls Panic back to his feet, “if I were Panic, I think I’d take a countout right about now; I mean, he’d end up going home with the loser’s share of the purse, but that was probably going to happen, anyway! I just can’t see him being able to be a match for Mister Bruner, with the determination that he’s showing here tonight!” Bruner leads Panic over to a nearby corner and props him up against the turnbuckles; the Bully rears back and delivers and open-handed slap to Panic’s chest with his skillet-like hands! The sound reverberates like a gunshot throughout the arena! WHACK! Bruner hits Panic with another slap, and then grabs him by the wrist to whip him across the ring; Panic crashes hard into the turnbuckles, but sees Bruner charging towards him, and somehow has the presence of mind to duck out of the way of a running avalanche splash, and roll Bruner up from behind into a schoolboy pin! ONE! TWO! Bruner easily kicks out at two but, as he rolls over to his knees, the Jolly Brit stuns him with another crawling headbutt! “Don’t count Panic out yet!” shouts Mak, as Panic gets to his feet. “He’s got Bruner off balance right now; this is the perfect opportunity for him to string together a couple of moves, and maybe even go for a finishing hold!” Panic runs across the ring as Bruner gets to his feet, picking up speed as he bounces off the ropes… BANG! … But the Bully snatches him out of the air with a bearhug, and brings whatever comeback Panic may have been mounting to an abrupt end with a spinebuster slam! Bruner grabs Panic by the wrist and drags him over to a neutral corner; he then pulls him to his feet, before scooping him up for a slam! Bruner then eases himself up the turnbuckles to settle on the middle ropes. “Mister Bruner looks like he’s getting ready to go for that legdrop!” shouts Mak. “Well, if he hits it,” says King, “it’s going to be tough luck for Panic!” Bruner leaps from the second rope, leg extended to deliver the legdrop, but crashes into the canvas as Panic rolls just out of reach! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “He missed it!” shouts King, as Panic crawls over to apply a lateral press: ONE! “We could have a big upset here!” shouts Mak. TWO! Bruner kicks out forcefully at two, and Panic rolls underneath the bottom rope to the apron. “Not quite,” remarks Francis. “Did you see the ease with which Mister Bruner kicked out of that?” “Definitely,” agrees King, as both men get to their feet. “He was at least four feet away from a pin there.” Bruner reaches over the top rope to grab a hold of Panic, but the Jolly Brit grabs him by the back of the head with both hands and falls off the apron, clotheslining Bruner on the top rope! Panic scrambles back up to the apron, as quickly as he can, and grabs onto the top rope, using it to propel himself into the ring and onto Bruner with a slingshot splash! ONE! TWO! Bruner kicks out at two! Panic tries to keep the Bully off balance with a series of hard right hands to the side of the head. “Interesting slingshot move there by Panic,” notes Mak, as Panic backs Bruner against the edge of the ring. “Makes me wonder whether he’s been studying any old Bam Bam Bigelow tapes.” Panic grabs Bruner by the wrist and whips him across the ring, only for the Bully to reverse it on him; he lowers his head to deliver a back-bodydrop as Panic bounces off the ropes… WHAM! … And the Jolly Brit makes him pay for it with a hard elbow to the back of the head! Bruner stands up wearily as Panic rushes to the ropes and blasts the Bully in the forehead with a running Bionic Elbow! Bruner staggers and falls backwards, only to bounce off the ropes and back to a vertical base, before dropping to a knee! YEAAAAAAAAAAH! “That was a stroke of luck for Mister Bruner,” shouts Mak, as Panic slaps his thigh. “The ropes saved him from going into the fifth row! And now Panic is giving the sign for that patented running leg lariat!” Panic runs past Bruner, bouncing off the ropes, and then picks up enough speed as he rebounds a second time to lift off the canvas to deliver Don’t Lose Your Head! BANG! … But the mammoth enforcer of the New York Connection snaps out of his daze and grabs the three hundred-pounder out of the air, muscling him up into a powerbomb position, and spiking him down to the canvas with so much force that referee Kivell loses his footing, and falls backwards onto his posterior! “Good Grief!” exclaims Mak, as the crowd collectively gasps in awe. “I think the ring just dropped an inch lower!” “That was just brute strength, Francis,” adds an amazed King, as the Bully drags Panic over to the corner. “Bruner didn’t have any leverage at all; he just caught a three hundred pound man out of the air, and drove him into the canvas, almost like it was nothing!” “And now, Bruner’s headed to the top rope,” says Mak, as Bruner steadies himself against the top turnbuckle. “Here comes the avalanche!” BOOM! Kivell just barely avoids falling again as Bruner dives down into the ring to crush Panic with the top rope splash! He remains atop his flattened foe as Kivell counts the pinfall: ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! “Call the Ambulance” begins to play again, as Bruner gets to his feet; Kivell goes to raise his hand in victory, but the Bully scares him off, waiting instead for Sir Marvelous to make his way into the ring to do it. “Another impressive win for Mister Bruner,” says Mak, “as he gets 2009 off to a good start; let’s go to Funyon for the official word!” “Here is your winner,” booms Funyon, “BIIIIIG Bully BRUUUUUNER!” “Mister Bruner doing away with Panic, and making it look relatively easy!” says Mak. “We need to take a break to check the structural integrity of the ring, and then we’ll be right back with more action!”

************************************* The cameras return to ringside in the Trent FM Arena, a welcome respite from the horrifying hockey escapade that opened the New Year's Party. “Welcome back to the Trent FM Arena for the first match of our card tonight!” Mak Francis says happily. “We're of course using the word 'match' in its loosest sense,” the Suicide King grouses. “This had to be Maddix's idea to bring this fiasco back...and to put Michael Alexander into it! This is the grossest waste of talent! This is the kind of match you put sideshows like El Hombre Sin Nombre or Dance Dance Dragon into, not an actual wrestler!” “Oh, King, stop complaining. You should relish this – it's the first meeting between the returning Thoth and Michael Alexander. We're going to see a recent World Champion go up against an SWF Hall of Famer.” “Yes, but it's a freaking Mousetrap Match! For MANSON's sake, Francis, that's a children's game, not a wrestling match!” Referee Matt Kivell is checking the cage drop catch above the ring as Funyon clambers up the steps. The big man raises the microphone to his lips for yet another moment in the spotlight. “Ladies and Gentleman, this will be a Mousetrap Match! The first person to drop the cage onto their opponent will be the winner!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” “Obviously these people are still recovering from New Years,” grumbles King. A resounding bell heralds the beginning of “For Whom the Bell Tolls” by Metallica, and a video montage of Alexander’s previous in-ring exploits interwoven with a new branching double-helix fractal graphic. The montage has been updated to include bits that feature Toxxic, MANSON, and Insane Luchador. Blue and white strobes flicker in the arena, and as the guitar kicks in... Funyon blares. “First, from Greenville, SC, USA, weighing in at 221 lbs...he is the Mad Scientist of the Mat...MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICHAEL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALEXAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANDER!” Alexander steps out onto the stage, and the flicker lighting stops dead. He gazes out over the crowd, smirks, and makes his way to the ring. The crowd responds in a predictable manner. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Michael, for his part, ignores them as he rolls into the ring and proceeds to his corner. He looks up at the Mousetrap cage mechanism and dubiously examines the various ringside implements to be used to activate it. His disgust is evident. The nostalgic refrain of “The Touch” fills the arena as Thoth stomps out onto the stage. Nathaniel Kibagami staggers after him, waving to no one in particular. At one point Thoth has to start pulling Kibagami down the ramp, as the big man seems listless. The former Clan leader seems more than a little perturbed, but whether it's the match or his companion is impossible to guess. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Funyon stops tapping along with the song to continue. “And his opponent, from Kobe, Japan...weighing in at 251 lbs...THOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTH!” As Thoth climbs into the ring, he points angrily at his corner, and Kibagami happily leans on the ring apron beside the post, blissful ignorance plastered across his face. Thoth snarls something at him, and Kibagami stands up a little straighter for a few moments, then promptly slumps again when Thoth turns his attention to his opponent and the mousetrap mechanism. “Looks like Nathaniel Kibagami is still out of it, despite Thoth's attempts to *-manage him,” Mak remarks. “It's just weird, Francis. I mean, why keep bringing him out here to the ring...he was nothing but a liability against Taiga Star. He seems to be more of a distraction for Thoth than for Thoth's opponent. He's like the anti-manager or something.” Michael Alexander glances at the slumped form of Kibagami dubiously. Thoth seems to be fuming, pointing at the cage hanging above the center of the ring and griping to Referee Kivell. He waves Thoth away as the final check is done on the cage drop mechanism. Funyon exits the ring as Matt Kivell asks both wrestlers if they are ready to go. The two men sneer at each other and nod their assent. DING! DING! Alexander and Thoth circle each other warily. The two collide in a collar-and-elbow, and Michael takes the early advantage with a side headlock. He chains this in a quick takedown and grinds on the side headlock. “Michael starts things out true to form, with some serious mat wrestling,” Mak observes. “This is not really Thoth's element.” “Thoth's strong point is not technical expertise,” King agrees. “Michael's going to keep the upper hand unless Thoth changes things up.” Thoth growls angrily and starts to force his way up. He struggles up to his feet and grabs Michael in a side waist lock, attempting to lift Alexander into a backdrop. Michael blocks this with a hook of his leg inside Thoth's own leg, drawing a snarl of frustration from the veteran. Alexander then uses the inside leg hook and the headlock to vicious effect, whipping Thoth down to the mat with a surprise Russian leg sweep. However, Michael isn't done – he rolls over, pulling a stunned Thoth with him and cinching in a modified crossface! Thoth's feet begin hitting the mat in anger and pain as he struggles. “Wow! Thoth tried a classic backdrop counter to the headlock, but Michael blocked it and has locked Thoth into a Michael Alexander special!” Mak says, impressed. “This is when Michael's at his most dangerous, Francis,” King comments. “Thoth is letting himself be drawn into Alexander's game - he's enough of a veteran to know that you don't arm-wrestle Bruner, you don't outfly Wildchild, and you don't try to go hold-for-hold with Michael Alexander.” The veteran is not in this predicament long, however. Thoth deftly reaches up to his opponent's face and, with the impeccable instincts of the greatest of heels, pokes Michael right in the eye. Alexander snarls in surprise and pain, releasing the hold and rolling away. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” King laughs. “That's what Thoth needs to do, Francis! Take Michael off his game, and capitalize on that.” Mak groans. “As much as I dislike Alexander personally, I have to say that at least he tries to wrestle his matches and not resort to those kind of tactics.” Meanwhile, on the outside of the ring, Kibagami is wandering around ringside, staring at the various implements that can or could be used for the activation mechanism. He takes a seat like a kid on the living room floor and begins cobbling some of the parts together. Thoth glances out of the ring for a moment and glares around until he sees his escort sitting Indian-style and taping things together. He growls at Kibagami, who seems too enthralled by his toys to notice. “What is Kibagami doing over there?” King asks dubiously. “Should he be touching those?” “I don't know, but there's nothing in the match rules that forbid him from working with the parts, but what is he going to build in his...ah...condition, King? That's the worrying part.” Mak frowns nervously. “And Thoth is letting Kibagami distract him again...he should be following up on his advantage.” Michael Alexander blinks his eyes clear as Thoth is distracted by his escort issues. Thoth turns back to his opponent and is a little frustrated that Michael has recovered. The two circle again, and go in for another collar-and-elbow...or would have, had Thoth not planted a solid boot in his opponent's midsection. Alexander doubles over, and Thoth pulls him into a front facelock, following up by whipping his opponent to the mat with a snap suplex! “And Thoth is keeping to a sound game plan now; he teased the lockup and suckered Alexander into a snap suplex,” King says. “Now if he can just keep his mind on the match and not on Kibagami, he might get a victory here, which would be a great way for Thoth to start out the year,” Mak muses. “Both men are looking to redeem themselves somewhat after their losses at the CFC.” The veteran gets back to his feet and pulls Alexander back to his feet, lifting him up spinebuster-style. Thoth then charges into the nearest corner, driving Michael into the turnbuckle hard enough to blast the air from his lungs. The former leader of the Clan then begins to methodically crack his opponent with elbows and knees, keeping him pinned in the corner. Alexander slumps in the corner and Thoth turns away nonchalantly, yelling at the crowd and also at the still-engrossed Kibagami. “Now Thoth is working from his own playbook. He's dominating Alexander in the corner, where he can put his size and strength advantage to the best use,” Mak observes. “If he keeps that up, Michael's definitely in trouble. But, Kibagami keeps being a distraction for him when he should be pummeling Alexander. What is Kibs doing now?” King raises an eyebrow as he glances toward the drug-addled powerhouse. At this point, it looks like Thoth's escort has managed to completely tape or screw together a complicated series of pole sections, gears, and cranks that appears lengthy enough to reach the drop mechanism atop the cage. Thoth shakes his head and turns around to charge into the corner for a flying forearm smash. Unfortunately, a turnbuckle is the only thing he finds, as Alexander dodges out of the corner! “Again, Kibagami proves to be more hindrance than help! Thoth's efforts to keep Kibs under control are distracting from winning this match,” King moans. “What the Hell is wrong with Kibs? And why does Thoth keep bringing the idiot out here?” “The distraction is particularly problematic against a competitor like Alexander,” Mak adds. “Michael Alexander only needs one opening to lock on one of his submission holds, and even if he can't win this match by submission, he can still do some serious damage with them.” Thoth staggers out of the corner slowly, still managing to stay on his feet. Michael quickly remedies that by hurling himself bodily into the back of Thoth's knee with a chopblock! The Japanese man collapses with a snarl of pain. Michael doesn't give him a chance to recover, though, as grabs Thoth's injured leg and snaps the knee briskly, hyperextending it. Alexander smiles as his opponent grunts in pain. His grin broadens into a rictus of wickedness as he steps over into a toehold, rolling forward with Thoths' knee bent into a scissor hold in what might be seen as a modified leg cradle, were it not for the incredibly painful angle at which this holds Thoth's leg and the fact that there are no pins in a Mousetrap match. Thoth snarls in tortured fury now, as Michael grabs the ankle of Thoth's scissored leg and begins pulling it further out of its normal range of motion. “And this is what I was talking about, King! Just that quickly, one mistake, and Thoth is trapped in one of the Mad Scientist's experiments!” “Right, Francis,” King agrees. “Kibs is like Thoth's self-inflicted Achilles' Heel! He keeps distracting him and that leaves an opening for Michael to capitalize on, which is never a good idea unless you enjoy physical therapy sessions.” The maddened Clan leader again goes to the eyes, this time with both hands, raking his fingers across Michael's face. This has the desired effect, as Michael is forced to break the hold to deal with Thoth's assault. The two roll apart again, with Alexander blinking and rubbing his eyes and Thoth slapping and working his leg. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Thoth goes to the eyes again,” Mak bemoans. “At least he's consistent.” “Look, Francis, you do what you need to do. Thoth can't afford to take the time to wrestle his way out of a hold like that. And it's all legal in this match, as long as you drop the cage on your opponent, right?” “Yes,” Mak groans. “Although 'match' might be a strong word for this.” This time Michael comes barreling at Thoth, driving a series of forearms into his opponent. Thoth staggers back into the ropes. Alexander moves to follow up, and Thoth snaps up a foot. Michael gasps and drops to the mat, both hands cupping his nethers protectively. Matt Kivell glares at Thoth accusatorily, but Thoth shrugs and points to his midsection, then just smiles. Kivell huffs impotently. “Now we're talking!” King hoots. “Finally, things are getting interesting!” “Oh, for God's sake,” Mak covers his head. “I knew things were going to go downhill...” Thoth takes the opportunity to drop a vicious elbow into Alexander's head and neck. He gets back to his feet and yells at Kibagami to get ready. Kibagami dutifully rises and begins to maneuver his contraption into position. It's a laborious process. Thoth drags Alexander back to his feet, poses with him for a second before snapmaring him back to the mat, holding him in a seated position. Thoth then bounces off the ropes and smashes his knee into the back of Alexander head! Michael rolls away, clutching the back of his head. Thoth spreads his arms to the crowd, which howls in response. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “It looks like Kibagami might actually be making himself useful for a change,” King says. “I'll believe it when I see it,” mumbles Mak. “But, Thoth just drove a vicious knee into Alexander's head. If he can follow that up with a Riot of the Blood, it might not matter, because Michael will be out cold.” Shrugging, Thoth turns his attention back to his opponent. He drags Michael back to his feet and hoists him onto his shoulder, poised for that fateful setup. At this point, unbeknownst to Thoth, the big man outside the ring, perhaps in anticipation, perhaps out of sheer inertia, has begun his contraption's progress toward activating the cage drop. Strange perambulations and odd, unwholesome movements begin as Kibagami turns his makeshift crank and tries to get it rolling. The weird process has begun. Meanwhile, Thoth smiles broadly as he starts to pull Michael Alexander, the upstart, into position for a move that has broken necks and careers. This time, however, Michael Alexander goes to the eyes. While his thumb to the eye lacks the decided finesse and poise of a Thoth's classic optical occlusion, it is nonetheless just as effective. Thoth snarls in surprise and pain, and Alexander wrenches his body out of Thoth's grip, dropping down behind his opponent. Seizing the opportunity, Michael lifts Thoth up quickly, spins and plants Thoth on the mat in the center of the ring with his Blue Thunder Driver! “Holy Crap!” Mak exclaims. “Alexander squirmed out of the Riot of the Blood and he just planted Thoth with the Event Horizon!” “Hey, does Kibs know he's not supposed to start the cage thing until Thoth actually hits the Riot of the Blood?” King asks unrhetorically. “Uhm...” During this quick exchange, none of the participants in the ring have noticed that Kibagami's contraption seems to have worked, as the cage begins to drop.... In response, the audience begins to stomp its feet. WHOMP! WHOMP! WHOMP! Alexander rolls away, knowing that a pin is useless. He gets back up to his feet slowly, rubbing his head, it still throbbing from its unfortunate encounter with Thoth's knee. Thoth seems to be taking his time, knowing instinctively that a pin is no danger. He begins to sit up, rubbing the back of his head, it now aching from being the chief impact zone for Thoth's recent fall to the mat. Both men notice the falling cage at about the same time. Unfortunately, there not much either of them can do about it at this point. CLOMPH! “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” “Kibagami just dropped the cage on Thoth!” King howls. “Well, to be fair, he started the whole thing when Thoth was poised to drop Alexander with the Riot of the Blood,” Mak replies. “Of course, I doubt that's going to appease Thoth at all...” Thoth face is painted with utter horror as he looks out through the gaudily painted bars of the small cage. Kibagami seems to be clapping to himself, apparently only seeing that his contraption worked. Michael Alexander looks at Thoth, the cage, then at Kibagami. He blinks in surprise and amazement until the referee grabs his hand and raises it. Funyon blares over the sound system once again. “Here's your winner...MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICHAEL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALEXAAAAAAAAAAAAAANDER!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAH!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “Well, it looks like Alexander won this one, King. Although it might be more accurate to say that Thoth lost it with an assist from Kibs.” “A win is a win in Michael's book,” King replies. “Maybe this will convince Thoth to shed the deadweight, though, and get back to his winning ways.” Thoth struggles angrily to shrug off the cage and begins yelling shrilly at Kibagami, who looks perplexed to see his boss in the cage. The big man begins to clamber up into the ring. Alexander, deciding that even a Kibagami blitzed out of his mind is still dangerous, particularly when coupled with an angry Thoth, takes his leave. Michael rolls out of the ring and walks up the ramp, looking back at the spectacle in the ring as Kibagami is looking confused and abashed as Thoth alternates between berating Kibs and glaring angrily at the departing Alexander. Michael shakes his head dismissively and turns away. “Well, the Moustrap has been sprung,” Mak snarks. “And Thoth was the mouse.” “Well, Michael is at least starting things off in 2009 on the right foot,” King pipes cheerfully. “Maybe this marks the first step on his road to recovering the title?” As the camera fades, Thoth can be seen stomping on Kibagami's mousetrap mechanism while the big man looks on blearily.

JJ Johnson looks at Toxxic and Maddix. "Aren't you guys a little undersized for defencemen?" Toxxic and Maddix look at each other. "Uh, I think we're a little unable to skate for defencemen," Landon points out. JJ shrugs. "Fine, just get the puck to me," he says, and walks away. "Puck?" Landon asks Toxxic. "A fairy in Midsummer Night's Dream," Toxxic assures him, then sighs. "Look, I was waiting for Tom to tell me the rules of this damn game. Do YOU know how it's played?" "No," Landon admits. "OK, we're screwed then."

Er, what? Joe isn't a mic god, but he works just fine when he's allowed to do his own thing of semi-to-completely cocky badass instead of bitching about his contract, or not getting title shots.

Well, let us know.

Yes, you read that right. There will be NO Clusterfuck this year. Because last year only Bruce Blank wrote, and he only wrote after no-one else had written and the deadline had gone, and then he no-showed the resulting title match. That pretty much killed any hope the Clusterfuck had of ever happening again on our watch. So we will be having a regular ol' show on or around Tuesday 20th January, where the winner of the Cold Front Classic will be facing The Maori Badass in a title match with a stipulation of their choice. Other fun and games will abound. If Tod doesn't win the CFC, we'll have a Tag Title match as well. Who wants to party?

HADOOOOUUUUUUUU-KEN!

Weighing in with Spike here. There are two people I will never let out of side roads: people in flashy sportscars, and idiots on their phones, the first because I'm petty, and the second because they're a fucking hazard and should be kept stationary on the road for as long as possible, and certainly until I'm as far away from them as possible.

Right, that's fine, I agree with that. BUT, what I'm saying is that it's a risky strategy to plan to go to the later rounds if you've got someone who can potentially KO you on the spot, because you might not get there. And sure, Evans didn't do THAT, but he got Forrest down and hammered his face into paste.

Spike... c'mon man. Forrest looked good for a fair while, but going for percentage moves like leg kicks is going to be dangerous when you're up against someone with one-hit KO power like Evans has demonstrated. Griffin did a good job keeping him at bay with his reach for a while, but even I could see his guard was sloppy once he was on his back, and I know fuck all about MMA. Don't make me add anything else to my signature, please.

Any match requests, comments, complains, put 'em here.

I'll play.

Suggesting Kong wins the X Division Title = dumb I'm afraid, due to Spike's "no men hitting women" rule. Which is a shame, as Kong vs some of the smaller male wrestlers would be fun, but hey ho.

You may well be right.

Sadly, Landon's awesome drawing is no longer supported by wherever it was he hosted it.

"Welcome back to Ess Dubya Eff...Lockdown!!!" Cyclone Comet's booms in greeting as we are indeed back in New Orleans... ...where thousand of screaming 'Nawleans' natives begin to fill the arena with as much noise as possible. Meanwhile, rather than pan around the sea of unwashed humanity, the camera is focused on the ring, where around the entrance side of the ring and above the top a surreal contraption, possibly designed by a five year old mental patient, has been erected around it. A bag hangs from the ceiling by a long metal wire in one corner of the ring...there's pipes, a treadmill, a skateboard lying on the floor...MR BUKKAKE~!~! on the treadmill showing all the charisma of a frozen haddock. "...if you're wondering what the heck is surrounding the ring, all will be explained in moments..." Cyclone assures us. "Cyclone, what the heck is this?" Riley asks, holding up a crumpled piece of paper. "Wha...oh, that's my explanation." replies Comet. "See, around the ring is this...well...crude contraption. And this paper holds the details of the contraption..." "It looks like a five year old drew it. Look...it's drawn in crayon." says Riley, holding it up to the camera, revealing this... "You did a good job on that Bobbo." sneers Comet. "Ah shut up. Just get on with explaining this sham." "Well...this 'sham' is our next match. 'The Hardcore Queen' Annie Onita and Landon 'La Cucaracha' Maddix will step into this ring...but, in this match, there will be no pinfalls. No submissions. No DQ's. It's not first blood, or last man standing. Instead, to win this match you have to set off this contraption, causing your opponent to be trapped inside that cage hanging above the ring. Like Mouse Trap..." "That game sucked." snaps Riley. "And so does this match!" "DON'T CHU WANNA BE MEEEEE!!!" Suddenly Riley and Cyclone are cut by the roaring sound of Chris Jericho's voice...as the arena quickly fills with darkness, all except the four spotlights from the entrance way, and Landon's entrance video rolling on the SmartTron. The Unnamed's youngest member eventually bursts through the curtains, with his valet Megan Skye bringing up the (very plump) rear. With a quick stop and thrust out of the arms, Landon begins to stride down the ramp, not wasting any more time on the New Orleans crowd than he has to. "Ladies and gentlemen," Funyon's voice bursts into life. "...the following one on one contest will have no disqualifications, and can only be won by initiating the contrapation surrounding the ring and trapping the opponent in the cage. Introducing first...representing the Unnamed, and accompanied to the ring by Megan Skye. Weighing two hundred ten pounds...this is LAAANDOOON 'LA CUCARACHA' MAAADDIIIX!!!" Maddix manouvers his way around the pipes in front of the ring apron, and leaps up before holding his hand out as ever to help the lovely Megan to climb the tall height of the apron. He then holds the ropes open for Skye, before entering quickly after and glancing nervously up at the cage. "Well, do you think Landon knows how this thing works?" Comet questions. "Do YOU know how it works?" "No, but I'm not in the match." "But you've got a diagram..." "It was drawn by a seventh year old!" "And his oppo..." "Woah woah, hooold up!" Maddix shouts at Funyon, snatching the microphone from out of the SWF's premiere (and only) ring announcer. The crowd boo from the moment noise leaves Landon's lips, and continue on as he stands looking out at one section of them. "I've got something to say...so take yourself and your $10 suit and stand over in that corner. Oh, and Funyon...smile...you're on T.V. Now...Annie." The crowd pop for Annie's name. "Annie, Annie, Annie. Oh how I admire you. You've fought adversity, you've fought sexism...you've retired and un-retired yourself more times than Terry Funk. No doubt you're one hardcore momma. An abassador for females everywhere. You know, I'm new around here so I don't know VERY much about you. But I've spoken to the boys in the back, and you've certainly got respect. I've heard people liken you to those great women rolemodels, who stand up and kick ass like no others. Buffy...Xena...Margeret Thatcher...Andy Capp's wife." Some of the crowd laugh, but while their moods are lightening, Landon's suddenly begins to darken. "But me? Nah...I don't see you as some female heroine. I don't see you as an ambassador for women. I see you more...as a loaf of bread." "Huh?" questions Cyclone. "What the heck is that supposed to mean?" "Annie...you're much like a loaf of bread. At first, you were fresh, new...everybody liked you. But Annie...there's one thing about bread. The longer it's around, it becomes stale...and before you know it, it's toast. Annie...you too are stale. And you too are about to become toast. I'm going to slam you in the toaster, and burn your ass to a crisp! So bring your feminist, overall wearing, shaven headed, man hating, Doc Martens wearing lesbian ass out here...so I can shove it in a cage...like the animal that you are..." Right on cue, "Risky Gamble" by Megumi Hayashibara hits, cutting Landon off and eliciting an uproar of cheers around the arena. As Annie's figure appears on the SmarkTron, suit clad and in the James Bond esque stance. The camera spins around to her front... "BOOOOOM!!!" ...and pyro erupts on the stage, bringing the crowd to their feet, and Ann Onita onto the stage. No introduction needed...Annie paces down the ring as her sister Allison follows out. Quickly Annie sidesteps the pipes, and rolls into the ring... ...and the fight is on, as Landon jumps her with stomps as soon as Annie manages to roll in! *DING DING!* Landon continues to drive the furious stomps down onto Annie's prone frame, not allowing the Hardcore Queen to even make her feet. "IT - CHI - BAN IT- CHI - BAN!!!" The pro-Annie chants ring out through the arena, as Maddix relents on the stomps, turning out to the crowd and furiously yelling at them to shut up. Slowly Ichiban pulls herself up on the ropes, as Landon walks back over and hits a sharp kick to the ribs. Another connects seconds later...but Annie seems to be shrugging off the effects, and getting to her feet regardless of the punishment. In desperation Maddix swings with a right hand...but Annie manages to block it, and drive her own fist into Landon's gut! "RAAAAAHHH!!!" Annie follows up with a couple more rights to the ribs, getting to her feet into the process as the crowd are being driven into a frenzy! Rocked back, Landon does the first thing that comes into his mind and jams his finger into the Hardcore Queen's eye, the callous move not setting well with the crowd. "What a cheap shot!" snarls Cyclone. "T'was not gentlemanly conduct." "T'was?" Riley snaps. "This isn't the 1920's Comet. Kindly shut thy mouth!" With a grab of the wrist Landon prepares to whip Ann into the ropes, but gets a fist to the jaw for his troubles. Quickly Annie ducks under Maddix's arm as a counter, and pulls La Cucaracha forwards into her outstretched knee, and quickly up onto her shoulders. Frantically Landon thrusts his body around and escapes off the suited shoulders, and running off to the ropes. Annie turns smartly, launching herself into the air and catching the charging Maddix in the jaw with a picture perfect Dropkiss! Scurrying from the ring, Landon has a look of shock etched on his face, as Annie stands triumphantly in the ring soaking up the applause directed towards her. "Annie has got Landon on the rock at the moment...it's almost like she's one step ahead of the rookie at every turn!" The frustrated Landon is attended to by Megan, as in the ring Annie is not resting on her laurels...climbing the ropes in an attempt to start the ball rolling...literally. "Annie's going for the ball sack, whi...oh." Comet stops, realising what he's just said... "There's a first time for everything I guess." Reaching up for the bag of balls, Annie almost loses her balance as the bag is excruciatingly just out of reach. Meanwhile Landon has suddenly caught glimpse of Annie's position, and quickly scurries back into the ring...only for Megan to halt him by grabbing his boot, and roll something into the ring for him. Over on the turnbuckles Annie is trying to grab the bag, but can't seem to be able to...as meanwhile, Landon begins to stagger over, clutching the something Megan rolled in to him against his chest tightly. Making a snap decision, the Queen Of Hardcore abandons the bag, deciding to dive past it and aim a double axehandle at Maddix. La Cucaracha is waiting though... ...sidestepping Annie, and catching her in the gut with a singapore cane! Annie doubles over from the pain, as Maddix quickly raises the cane high above his head... CRAAACK!!! ...and brings it down HARD across Annie's back! "Things are getting hardcore right now! And this is right up Annie's street." comments Riley. "Pity she's lying flat on her face." Landon turns to the crowd, holding his hands to the side in a mocking gesture as the crowd boo him...with AUTHORITAAA!!! Trying to grit her teeth through the pain Annie hauls herself up again, catching Maddix's eye and causing him to wield the cane again. However, the now alert Annie is already one step ahead, firing a vicious kick to the gut. An equally decapacitating kick to the sternum follows, with the force enough to cause Landon to drop the cane. Ms. Onita gratefully scoops the wooden weapon from the mat, greeting it like an old friend with a smile that seems to say..."you're dead Landon." "RAAAAAHHH!!!" The crowd erupt again, as Maddix's eyes burst wide open in pure, unadulterated fear. Dropping to his knees Landon looks to beg off, but Annie decides not to allow Landon his break...instead firing another kick, again connecting across the sternum. With all the wind knocked out of him, Landon's head slumps forward...almost inviting Annie on... CRAAACK!!! "Singapore Cane to the back of the neck!!!" yells Comet. "Holy Ghost of Neptune...that may have broken young Citizen Maddix's neck!" The lifeless body of The Disciple slumps slowly forwards to the mat, as Annie raises the cane high into the air, as a trophy of war. The crowd respond with cheers and applause, as she clasps her other hand around the weapon... CRAAACK!!! ...driving it down across the back of Maddix's head for a second, skull shattering time. "Stop the pain!" whines Riley. "Somebody stop the pain." "Hardcore Rules Riley. And unfortunately for young Maddix, this is Annie's house!" Watching on in horror, Megan sees Annie raising the cane a third time, and covers her eyes... CRAAACK!!! ...as Annie ruthlessly continues her assault. The Disciple looks to be done for, Annie seeing the glazed over look in Maddix's eyes, and deciding to go back for the balls. She climbs up the turnbuckles, getting ever closer to the sack containing the balls...yes, we've already done that joke...and begins to reach outwards. Again, the bag has been placed just far enough way that reaching it is no easy task, meaning Onita is left desperately reaching forwards, while trying not to topple off the top rope. The time she takes on the top has given Maddix time to recover, and groggily begin to try regaining a vertical base...so, rather than struggle any longer, Annie hops down again and goes back towards her opponent. "Whoever placed that bag above the ring either made a miscalculation, or is having a grand old laugh here...because it's out of reach." "Whoever made this MATCH is probably having a 'grand old laugh' Cyclone." Allowing the young Maddix to get back to his feet, Annie again takes the cane in her hands and preares for Landon to turn around. Megan has scuttled across the ring to try and warn her charge of the impending danger, but can't get close to the ring because of a water filled pipe blocking her way, so Landon doesn't hear her. Oblivious, Maddix slowly begins to turn around, looking for Annie... SWOOOSSSHHH... The cane shot misses, as Landon ducks! The momentum pulls Annie around in a pirouette, and as she reaches the 360 degrees she recieves a quick boot to the gut from Landon. Locking on a front headscissors, the Disciple hooks both of his arms under Annie's body and raises her up the air for a powerbomb, which Onita begins to fight with forceful right hands to the top of Landon's head. The effects are swift, causing Landon to stagger about and eventually fall backwards...but that causes Annie to fall throat first across the top rope!!! "OH!" Cyclone exclaims. "Annie got stungunned across the top rope! A break for Maddix here." The Disciple is first to his feet, looking up at the ball bag and down at Annie quickly...before turning to Megan, and shouting for her to do something. She can hardly hear over the rampantly booing crowd, so Landon has to repeat himself before The Toddess finally udnerstands him. Quickly she scuttles herself around the ring to the only un-blocked part of the ring apron, bends down and begins to rummage under the ring. Meanwhile Maddix walks over to Annie and drives the fla of his boot repeatedly across the chest and neck area...until Megan slides in... ...A LADDER!!! "Oh...MY!!!" yells Riley. "Well, we all know that Citizeness Onita can take heavy amounts of punishment. But, not too many people can take the force a metal ladder can provide and keep fighting." "Are you stupid Cyclone?" snaps Riley. "He doesn't want the ladder to hit Annie with. He wants it to get the balls." "Well, if you are indeed right Bobbo, then that is smart strategy." Picking the metal implement up from the mat, Landon hurriedly sets it up near the corner, indeed looking to go after the balls. Placing his foot on the first step, the other soon follows as La Cucaracha begins to scurry up the ladder and towards the bag...but Annie is up behind him. He doesn't know it however, busy trying to reach inside of the bag and retrieve a ball. Quick as she possibly can, Annie grabs the singapore cane... CRAAACK! CRAAACK! CRAAACK! Three hard shots connect to the kidney area of The Disciple, stopping him in his tracks. With Landon now suitably hurt, Onita fires a quick jab to the ribs for good measure, before moving around the side of the ladder, and beginning to climb up on the otherside! The crowd rise to their feet in anticipation, as Annie soon reaches Landon's level of the ladder. Just as she does, Maddix swings and connects with a weakened right hand...Annie retaliating in kind. Again a fist connects with Annie's jaw, again the Hardcore Queen swinging back with one of her own. Both athletes are left hanging precariously by one foot, the punches having taken their toll. "This is a very...very dangerous situation here Bobbo." "Indeed it is Comet. If Landon can just shove Annie in the chest, she'll be crashing through those pipes on the floor!" First to swing this time is Maddix, but he's cut off by a quicker jab by Annie, almost sending him flying backwards off the ladder. He somehow keeps his footing though, before grabbing a handful of Annie's hair! The fiesty Japanese vixen starts to try and claw at Landon's face to escape, as he tries to tug her black hair out from the roots. Suddenly Onita is within fingernail's reach of Landon's eyes, so The Disciple quickly pushes her to the side... CRRRAAASSSHHH!!! ...Annie flying off the ladder, and landing beside it on the mat, in a crumpled mess!!! "OOOHHHHHH!!!" The crowd gasp in shock at the fall from Onita, as Maddix now has clear run towards the bag. However, it seems something has come over him...as rather than go straight for the bag, he is now looking down on Annie's prone body. With a couple more steps, Landon moves up the next two rungs so that he has one foot on either side of the top of the ladder, sitting across the top as all around him the crowd are suddenly on their feet again. "Oh...no. He's not going to do this is he Comet?" "It certainly looks like he's considering it!" "Don't do it Landon! It's not worth the risk!" Very precariously Landon begins to stand upright, trying to block out the height that he sees beneath him and steady himself. The crowd are on the edge of their seats...or off them, and up on their feet. Annie isn't moving a muscle, as Landon's 'cockiness control' kicks in...with a wag of the finger and shake of the head, Landon turns around slowly, so he's facing away from Annie. "Oh, thank Todd!" Riley gasps in relief. "I really thought he was going to do it..." "Bobbo...he's not going for the bag..." Indeed, Landon isn't...instead, his arms are outstretched in the air. A slight wobble of the ladder sends a murmur of excitement through the New Orleans crowd, but Landon keeps his footing...and suddenly, falls back... ...WITH A MOONSAULT OFF THE LADDER!!! "HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!!!" "Good Godd...I mean Good Todd...I mean...OH MY GOD!!!" Riley stutters in shock. "LANDON MADDIX WITH A MOONSAULT OFF THE LADDER!!!" The crowd are on their feet, cheering wildly in their disbelief at what they have just seen. Both Annie and Landon lay on the mat clutching at their ribs in immense pain, as Megan Skye rolls into the ring and crawls across to check on Landon's condition. Allison meanwhile looks on with worry etched all over her face, as Annie is hurting too. Nick Soapdish rolls into the ring and begins to order Megan out of the ring, before checking on the two combatants himself, both of whom and hurtin’ for certain’. “Can you believe that Bobby Riley? Can you believe that picture perfect moonsault from off the top of the ladder?” “Un…freaking…believable Cyclone!” Riley, still in shock, just about manages to reply. “This crowd nearly blew the damn roof o…good god Bobby, they’re both getting up!” Slowly, Landon is beginning to stir…as Annie too is conscious, but not able to get back up. Despite the weakened condition of his body, the determined Maddix manages to drag his limp frame over towards the ladder, and place his hands upon the lower rungs of the metal implement. With all the power he can muster, Maddix hauls himself onto his jelly-like legs, and starts the climb up the ladder… …but suddenly stops, as out of the corner of his eye he sees Annie Onita shrugging referee Soapdish away, and trying to get back to her feet. Unable to believe that Annie’s still fighting, The Disciple stops dead like a doomed woman in a horror movie…unable to hide his complete shock. Dropping down from ladder he stumbles over towards Annie…and gets a right hand to the gut! “RAAAAAHHH!!!” The crowd explode into elation as they see their Hardcore Queen fighting back. Another stiff right connects to the gut, but before an imminent third can hit it’s target, Maddix drives his knee forwards and catches Onita HARD in the gut. As Annie doubles over, Landon quickly flings her arm over his shoulder, hooking a hold of her suit pants and popping his hips in a sudden explosion of offense, taking Annie over with him, and drilling her with an Exploder Suplex! “Somehow these two Citizens…Todd Royal’s rookie Disciple, and the veteran Queen Of Hardcore…somehow, these two are up and fighting.” “But they’re both weary Cyclone. You can see it from the body language. They’re both nearly out on their feet.” A rather bored looking Mr. Bukkake watches on from his stationary treadmill, waiting for his chance to shine… …as in the ring, Landon has Annie down on the mat. Knowing a submission will not win him the match, Landon decides instead to leap into the air, and with a full 360 degree twist land an extravagant legdrop. Annie holds the throat, as Maddix rolls away from her fallen body and clambers back up…holding his hands out again, which brings a fresh wave of jeers and boos his way. “How can these ungrateful slobs boo a man like Landon Maddix, Cyclone? It shocks me that these people have so much dis-respect!” “Well…he’s shown them no respect. Why should these great Citizens be the only ones with any respect?” “Good point. Looking at their clothing, they obviously have no self respect…no wonder they have no respect for Landon?” “That’s not what I meant Bobbo.” Again Annie decides to go on guts rather than brains, and haul herself back up. Whilst she’s doing so however, Landon has called for something else…this time, a chair is delivered to him by Waitress Skye. Picking up the chair, a sick smile emerges on The Disciple’s face, seeing the un-guarded Annie on her last legs. Raising the chair in the air, Landon walks forward…and usually, Annie would fight back. However, her guard is down, allowing Landon to swing down with the chair… SSSMAAACK!!! …it connects…BUT ANNIE IS STILL UP!!! “WOW!” Cyclone exclaims, as the crowd is ROARING it’s collective heads off. “Annie didn’t go down!” “My god…she’s a cyborg! She’s not human Comet. I swear, she’s not human!” As Annie stands tall in front of him, Landon’s look of shock has returned. Again he grabs a hold of the chair and brings it up above his head… SSSMAAACK!!! …and down across Annie’s… …BUT SHE’S STILL UP!!! “RAAAAAHHH!!!” By now, Landon is suddenly wondering what the heck it’s going to take to put Annie down. Two chair shots, and despite the slightly glazed over look in Ichiban’s eyes, she’s still standing. With no other alternative, Landon raises the chair again, and with all the force he can find in his body, he slams the chair downwards… SSSMAAAAACCCKKK!!! …with an ungodly amount of force… …and Annie is FINALLY down! “Annie’s down…but it took THREE vile chair shots to do it!” yells Comet. “But the main thing is she’s down. Now Landon just needs to put the boots to her!” “You really are an uncaring individual aren’t you?” “Hey…controversy pays the bills buddy.” Celebrating this accomplishment as if he’s just one the World Title, Maddix throws the chair over his head and shouts out in delight, as Annie is finally left laying on the mat. But…not for long, as the Queen of Hardcore is already planning her next comeback. With an air of frustration emanating from his body, Maddix yells out “Now you’re gonna see it!” towards the crowd, before helping Annie up on her last steps. Two shrift, sharp knee drives are smashed forwards into Annie’s midriff, before Landon hits a European uppercut to back Onita to the ropes. Hurriedly Landon grabs onto Annie’s left wrist and shoots her off to the ropes, backing off the ropes himself. Both Landon and Annie seem set for a head on collision, before Landon swings his arm out at the last second, with a I MAY BE SMALL, I MAY BE WEAK, BUT I JUST TOOK YOUR HEAD OFF YOU PSYCHOTIC LESBIAN FREAK, NOW LET’S GET THIS BALL ROLLING LARIATOOOOOOOOOOO~! “BOOOOO!!!” “HA HA!!! Lariato by Maddix! Lariato by Maddix!” Riley squeals like a schoolgirl. With Annie down, Maddix now scurries over to the ladder, beginning his slow climb as above him hangs the bag of balls. With every rung he advances to Landon takes a glance down at Annie to check on her position…but, she only begins to start moving as Landon reaches the summit of the ladder, and begins to reach into the bag. After a second or so of rummaging around, Landon pulls upwards from out of the bag… …clutching a bowling ball! “Oh yeah!” Riley shouts, for no particular reason. Landon rapidly descends from down the ladder, and shoves the metal object out of the way to the mat. Now clutching a bowling ball, Landon places it across the top of the pipe… ..but Annie’s up behind him from nowhere, spinning him around…and nailing a superkick! The bowling ball goes flying, narrowly missing Landon’s toe as it slams into the mat. Annie now has possession of the ladder however, folding it up quickly…and throwing it forward, causing it to SMACK into Landon’s face! He crumbles down in the corner, as meanwhile Annie grabs the ladder, throwing it out of the way…and stopping? “IT – CHI – BAN! “IT – CHI – BAN! “IT – CHI – BAN!” The crowd ring out with their chants, as Annie pulls the bowling ball from the mat. However, she has other plans than to set off the cage. She, instead backs up across the ring…as Landon is spread eagled. Annie knows what’s coming, the crowd knows what’s coming, the despairing Megan knows what’s coming as does the eager for genital destruction Allison…even Landon knows, but he’s out of it… …Annie rolls the ball forward… INTO LANDON’S GROIN!!! “OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!!” “Ooooh. That is every man’s worst nightmare!” winces Riley “Even yours?” “Even mi…HEY, shut up you spandex wearing freak!” “I could very well say the same thing to you.” With Landon’s nether regions officially crushed, Annie now has to set off the cage. She knows it, as she hurriedly picks the ball up…taking the time to sneer into the watering eyes of Maddix…before taking the ball, and dropping it down the pipe. “The contraption is set off. Here we go!” The ball rolls down the pipe, rattling it’s way across slowly onto the more level part, as Bukkake stands and waits eagerly. This is his chance to shine! The ball rolls on…and on…before clipping the on button, causing the treadmill to snap into life. “Bukkake is off! Man, look at him go!” “Yeah I’ve heard stories about him being very ‘quick’.” “I…err…don’t particularly want to know about that area of Citizen Bukkake’s private life.” “Citizen Bukkake? How can you say that with a straight face?” As the treadmill begins to pick up speed, Bukkake is already sweating… …back in the ring,. Annie is pulling Landon into the centre of the ring and positioning him underneath the cage. Quickly hitting a boot, Annie locks on the front headscissors…and drops Landon down with the Daybreak Pedigree, which is surely all she wrote! …but Bukkake is still running. He thinks this is his moment in the spotlight obviously, not wanting to losing his footing and take his skateboard ride. Allison watches on impatiently as Bukkake is now smiling! So, taking matter into her own hands, Allison walks over to the jogging Bukkake. He blows her a kiss, so she does what she knows is best…slaps the taste out of Bukkake’s mouth!!! Bukkake stumbles back, falling off the treadmill and landing on the skateboard…showing off his l33t sk8ter sk11lls, as he rocks forward…and turns on the fan! The crowd seem to be very excited about this low budget sequence, the fan blowing a toy boat across the water pipe, which goes under the ring. Back in the ring, Annie watching all this intently, not seeing Landon getting up behind her! Landon grabs Annie in a waistlock, as the boat goes under the ring…and now, it’s a race against time. Annie fires elbow after elbow into the jaw of Landon, rocking him back each time, but each time getting locked back into the waistlock. Eventually Annie gets herself free, and fires some right hands… …until Landon grabs her top!!! The boat comes back out from under the ring, as the fight goes on underneath the cage’s landing point…Landon trying to tear Annie’s top of, which is getting the males in the audience quite flustered. Meanwhile, the boat is about to drop… …and it does, pulling the weight up… …causing the cage to lower… …MADDIX BREAKS AWAY… …AND THE CAGE LOWERS… …DOWN ACROSS ANNIE!!! “DAMN IT!” Cyclone yells, as the bell is rung swiftly. “He did it…he tried pulling Annie’s damn top off, and that’s what distracted her.” “Who cares! Landon wins…” “Yeah, well…if you can call it that.” “I’ll call it what I want.” Annie, now realizing she’s trapped in the cage, curses her luck as Landon glares at her through the cage bars with a gleeful look on his face. “Here is your winner…LAAANDOOON ‘LA CUCARACHA’…MAAADDIIIX!!!” “Damn it…Landon wins. And we’ve got to go to a break while all this gets cleared up…but…we’ll be right back.” The scene fades, as Landon stands just out of Annie’s reach…the smug look still etched on his face, as we go to commercial…

I honestly don't know where Mr. Bukkake came from, I know he was some sort of feature of the fed like the ELK, G0R0 and so forth, but not his origin. However, what I DO know is that he was powering a treadmill in Landon's version of the match.

I'm not FROM Nottingham, I just live IN Nottingham. Therefore I have none of the genetic hatred towards you and your kind from that side of the country boundary.

Annie didn't show. I think Mr. Bukkake just put her off too much.

Office brawl was a five-man match in Alex Zenon's office. I only remember that Landon and IL were involved, and Landon won (by virtue of being the only writer, I think).

When I started in this place you'd get a show booked by Thoth every fortnight. Which could mean Mousetrap Match, Office Brawl, Hell On Stilts or something involving a badger, as I recall. Seriously, you lot have it EASY these days.

Suicide sure moved like Low Ki when he cleared the MCMGs out of the ring at Final Resolution, right down to the walk and the running dropkick. Although he did look more Kaz-sized, so doubtless it was Kaz trying to move like Low Ki. But surely they could find someone else for the role (although why they'd bother is beyond me).

Let's call this one delayed karma, shall we Thoth?

I can't believe you brought up Skull Radio. I thought that had been retconned into nonexistence. Nonetheless, this should be interesting.