MAIN EVENT
SINGLES MATCH
"The Superior One" Tom Flesher vs Toxxic
(Special Guest Commentator: Janus)
Well, you knew this one was coming, eh? Toxxic and Tom Flesher are, to the chagrin of both men, dual number one contenders to Janus' SWF title. The world champ has been back off suspention for a show now, but he has yet to be booked against either man in a defense... and tonight, that remains, as both men fight with the champ on the commentary table.
Rules: Singles match. Janus is strongly encouraged to write as well.
Word Limit: 6001
Send To: Thoth
The cameras return to Storm with the chorus of Fear Factory’s ‘Resurrection’ blasting out over the PA system and the fans shitting all over the arrival of the World Heavyweight Champion. However, Janus takes no notice of his hostile reception beyond a slight curl of his lip at the weak, pathetic fools who shout at him from all sides, and advances down the entrance ramp towards the commentary desk where Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley are sitting.
“Citizens, we are about to be joined by a true monster,” Comet observes. “The man who attempted to seriously injure Alan Clark on Smarkdown when he used a move perhaps best left forgotten.”
Bobby Riley starts to say something... but stops, as the huge Australian takes a seat beside him and puts on a pair of headphones.
“Janus,” Comet says, addressing the World Champion directly, “what right did you have to use the Demonstar Driver on Alan Clark? How could you-”
“Right?” Janus asks curiously. “I wanted to, and I could. If you feel my actions were wrong, Comet, you have only to say so.”
“I would,” Comet answers defiantly, “but the SWF relies on me to do my job tonight, and I could not do it if I was engaged in combat with you!”
“He can hardly do it anyway!” Riley protests, trying to defuse the tension. Janus stares at Comet for a few seconds longer, then leans back on his chair (which makes an ominous creaking noise). However, everyone’s attention is distracted as the Smarktron blacks out, and while the crunching guitars of Lostprophets’ ‘We Still Kill The Old Way’ ring out over the HSBC Arena jagged white letters flash up:
‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG...’
The shot changes, showing Toxxic taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table with the Toxxic Shock Syndrome, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the-
‘GO!’
*BOOOM!!*
-explosion of red pyro announcing the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger! Clips from different matches start to flash up and as the smoke begins to drift the shape of the man himself becomes visible. Toxxic strides forward with Jet at his side and pauses at the bottom of the ramp to snap his head from side-to-side while his girlfriend talks steadily to him.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the next match is tonight’s MAIN EVENT~ and is scheduled for one fall!” Funyon booms. “Introducing first, accompanied to the ring by Jet; from Nottingham, England; weighing in at 218lbs, he is the leader of Revolution Zero... the ‘Straight-Edge Sensation’... TOXX-IIIC!!”
“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”
“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”
“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”
The fans in attendance are not fond of the British rookie but Toxxic just grins as he rolls under the ropes into the ring, ascends the nearest turnbuckle and spreads his arms wide. Tonight he gets the chance to prove a little something to Tom Flesher... and maybe to the watching Hell Machine as well.
“Janus - care to give us your thoughts on Toxxic, one of your two contenders?” Comet asks in a brittle but civil voice. The Hell Machine leans forward slightly in response and raises one hand to stroke his goatee.
“I’m thinking that although I have beaten that man twice, I’ve never pinned him or made him submit,” the big Australian rumbles. “I think I should rectify that error soon.”
“And how does the fact that he beat Nathaniel Kibagami come into play?” Comet asks, chancing his arm. “Given that Silent’s repeated beatings of you-”
“Enough,’ the Hell Machine growls through gritted teeth, the unspoken threat bringing even the heroic commentator up short. “Toxxic has learned from his encounters with the Silent One, that is obvious,” Janus continues in a forced, clipped voice, “but he will not have learned how to defeat me.”
*BOOOOOM!*
Before Comet can goad the big man into physical violence an explosion of blue pyro and smoke lights up the arena, and Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” begins to blare over the speakers! The smoke clears, and Tom Flesher walks out in his blue warm-up suit. Next to him is Allison Onita, wearing a pair of low blue lowriders and a blue crop-top. She escorts him through the smoke and they walk forward together, fireworks going off in the background. Tonight, however, something is different. There are some boos, to be sure, but as they enter the ring there is also an audible chant...
“TAAAAAAAA-MO...”
“TAAAAAAAA-MO...”
“TAAAAAAAA-MO...”
Flesher grins and he and Allison strike a pose, The Superior One holding his chin and smirking, Onita curling up against him so close that it’s hard to tell where one stops and the other begins. The music fades, and Funyon begins his announcement.
“Currently in the ring…”
Flesher smirks, and Funyon sighs before drawing a card from his front pocket. “...not only one of the most talented technical wrestlers in the SWF, but also the world. He has amassed an astounding record of 79 wins, 29 losses and 2 draws. He has held the SWF World Championship twice, and will soon do so again. He is also one of only two men to have managed two wins over Toxxic... and tonight, he will become the ONLY man to beat him three times. Weighing in at a perfectly-formed 230 pounds, he stands before you as the NEXT SWF World Heavyweight Champion… the SUPERIOR ONE, TOM FLESHER!!!!!!”
“We’ll see about that...” Janus is heard to mutter. “And while I’m at it, I’ll show him how you really do an ADF II.”
“On Toxxic, I hope?” Riley asks, a note of pleading in his voice.
“I’m thinking a two-for-one deal...” the Hell Machine rumbles menacingly.
Flesher applauds Funyon’s announcement, ignorant of Janus’ bloodthirsty plans, while Toxxic stares contemptuously and even Anthony Michael Hall looks dubious. Allison strips Tom’s warm-up suit off his body and exits the ring while the Superior One stretches out before the bell, smiling around at his hometown fans.
*DING-DING-DING!*
No sooner has the start of the match been signalled than Toxxic sprints across the few feet separating him from Flesher and lashes out with his right arm, dropping the Superior One with a clothesline! Flesher pops back up immediately, visibly angry at being caught off-guard, but before he can set himself the Straight-Edge Sensation has reversed directions and is flying through the air once more, this time taking his opponent down with a spinning heel kick! Flesher takes half a second longer to regroup after that and his mat instincts automatically cause him to roll over onto his front to prevent the pinning situation - unfortunately that places his head in the perfect position for a-
*WHAM!!*
-basement dropkick, as both of Toxxic’s feet crash into his skull! Flesher rolls backwards and sideways, coming up into a protective stance and glaring out at the straight-edger… who stands grinning in the middle of the ring and has the nerve to spread his arms innocently.
“What?”
If looks could maim then Toxxic would be spending the rest of his life owing money to plastic surgeons, but as it is Flesher’s furious stare has no effect on the cocky Brit. Meanwhile the fans in Buffalo start to let their feelings known again…
“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”
“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”
“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”
“Toxxic manages to get the upper hand at the start through sheer speed,” Comet exclaims in surprise, “but I can tell you now that Citizen Flesher won’t be caught with his pants down again!”
“I’d like to catch- ”
“Robert Riley, if you don’t stop that sentence THIS MINUTE I will give you SUCH a smack!!”
Flesher’s eyes narrow, anger and embarrassment at being surprised by the rookie colouring his cheeks. He cares nothing for the fans of course, but it is still pleasant when they acknowledge his superiority. On this occasion however it meant he was not fully prepared when the bell rang - a mistake that he will not make a second time. He sets himself deliberately, waiting for his opponent to make the next move... and Toxxic casually raises one black-nailed hand and, with an expression of boredom on his face, waves Flesher in with a ‘come on’ motion!
“BOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
“Toxxic is playing a truly dangerous game,” Comet declares. “He is trying to maintain the psychological advantage, but if he allows Flesher in close then it could be all over very quickly!”
“What do you mean, ‘could be’?” Riley asks scathingly.
“He won’t LET him close,” Janus says with certainty. “Flesher may force his hand, however.”
The Superior One seems intent on doing just that as he advances towards the straight-edger who seems unaware that he’s being backed into a corner... then Toxxic comes up against the turnbuckle and looks around in apparent surprise, and Flesher makes his move. The two-time World Champion rushes in, drawing his right arm back for perhaps a running shotei - but at the last moment Toxxic jumps up to the second buckle, vaults over the top of the onrushing Flesher and stamps on the back of the head on the way past, dropping and rolling when he reaches the mat as the Superior One collides with the buckles!
“BOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
“A ruse!” Comet exclaims as Flesher spins around, rubbing the back of his head and with murder in his eyes. “Toxxic suckered Flesher in and used his speed to outmanoeuvre his opponent again - if he can keep this up then he might be able to wear the Superior One down whilst avoiding Citizen Flesher’s deadly mat skills!”
“Wear him down?” Riley scoffs. “It’s going to be Toxxic doing the running about, not Flesher! Besides, Tom has amazing stamina, Comet. Amazing.”
“...I don’t want to know.”
Tom Flesher strides forward, looking to get in close with the rookie and dislocate a few joints, but the Straight-Edge Sensation is infuriatingly unwilling to comply. He backs away when Flesher advances and squirms sideways when the Superior One lunges for him, all the while wearing his lopsided grin and exhorting Tom to greater efforts.
“STAND STILL!” *clap-clap-clap*
“STAND STILL!” *clap-clap-clap*
“STAND STILL!” *clap-clap-clap*
Toxxic’s grin widens as he listens to the Buffalo crowd’s protests. Right now he’s having the time of his life making Flesher look stupid in front of his hometown audience and is in no mood to oblige them - but Flesher’s patience, already rapidly thinning, snaps. When Toxxic dodges sideways again the Superior One anticipates his movement and-
*SMACK!*
-sends a jaw-rattling shotei into the straight-edger’s face! Toxxic staggers into the ropes as the Buffalo crowd finally has something to cheer about, and Flesher allows himself a small smile as he follows up. But lately Toxxic is used to being in the ring with feared strikers like Kibagami, Williams and Drazon so he welcomes the chance to start a brawl against someone near his own level, and Flesher walks straight into a-
RIGHT!
LEFT!
RIGHT!
LEFT!
Windup...
DISCUS CLOTHESLINE...
...ducked! Having used Toxxic’s signature combination on Ced in his last match the Superior One knows what’s coming and manages to get his head together enough to duck the final blow, then as Toxxic’s momentum carries him around again Flesher slaps on a rear waistlock!
“But you can’t ‘German’ Toxxic!” Comet calls warningly.
*WHAM!!*
“Oh. Apparently you can.”
“If you’re Tom Flesher, and if you’re smart enough to use a non-release version,” Riley adds smugly as Tom rolls away, not bothering to retain the bridge for the pin.
“I’d like to see him flip out of the Sydney Harbour Bridge...” is Janus’ menacing comment.
Toxxic is no mat genius like his opponent, but even he knows enough to roll over onto his front. This doesn’t help him against Flesher however, as the Superior One takes a second to clear his head from the straight-edger’s punches and his own recent exertion before dropping on the rising Toxxic to clamp on a front facelock. The startled Brit attempts to scoot backwards, but Flesher tightens his grip and anchors his spiky-haired opponent in place while Allison Onita does her best to rally the crowd behind her man.
“TAAAAAAA-MO...”
“TAAAAAAA-MO...”
“TAAAAAAA-MO...”
The Buffalo crowd responds, but how much of that is for Flesher and how much for Allison’s lowriders is open to debate. Meanwhile on the other side of the ring Jet looks over contemptuously at her counterpart’s actions, although not without partaking of a little light ogling herself... before remembering her job and banging on the apron to encourage her boyfriend.
“You see, Comet?” Riley asks, predictably ignoring the bevy of beauties on show at ringside. “Toxxic blew his load too soon and now Flesher’s back on top, where he always ends up!”
Even the detached, psychopathic Hell Machine shudders at that unbidden mental image.
“...Sweet Zombie Jesus...” Comet whimpers, digging his fingers into his mask as he tries to shut out horrors not witnessed since he accidentally clicked on a link to SUMA.
Toxxic is blissfully unaware of Riley’s “commentary”, but thirty seconds have passed with him still trapped in Flesher’s vicelike grip and the pressure in his temples is starting to build. His mat technique isn’t up to breaking the Superior One’s hold by traditional means, but although reluctant to cheat the rookie isn’t above digging his fingers into someone’s face if the situation calls for it. He reaches forward with his right arm, black nails seeking Flesher’s eyes... and Tom grabs his wrist and bends it up behind his back in a hammerlock! With this leverage available Flesher releases his facelock and swiftly slides his right arm underneath Toxxic’s left before flipping the Straight-Edge Sensation over onto his back into the By-The-Numbers pin.
ONE!
TWO!
-but Toxxic flails his legs and manages to wrench his body off the mat, although his right arm is evidently pained at breaking the hammerlock in this way. Flesher attempts to retain his grip on the straight-edger’s left arm but Toxxic manages to whip it away, then simply swivels on his back and lashes out with both feet at the crouching Superior One’s head! Tom manages to block the attack slightly with his hands but it is still enough to knock him back and down, and Toxxic uses the respite to drag himself backwards and start to get to his feet. Unfortunately for the straight-edger the pounding in his temples is virtually unabated and he has to take a couple of seconds to clear his head, by which time Flesher is up and closing in again. Unable to go on the offensive directly Toxxic simply uses his speed to sidestep and drive a knee up into the Superior Stomach, and with the extra second’s grace that grants him he manages to recover enough to apply his own front facelock to the wheezing Buffalo native!
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Toxxic grins as he tightens his grip - but really, he should have stuck to flip-flopping around the ring as Tom braces his legs wide and arches backwards, bringing the Straight-Edge Sensation over in a Northern Lights Suplex and causing Michael Hall to hit the canvas and count the fall!
ONE!
TWO!!
...but Toxxic manages to roll his shoulder off the mat again, although he can’t get away from the tenacious Superior One who jumps onto the retreating rookie’s back in a mount position and begins slamming shotei after shotei into the back of his head.
“You see?” Riley demands. “Tom has shown that he can do Toxxic’s moves, but if Toxxic’s tries to wrestle Flesher’s style he’s going down!”
“Citizen Riley, you know what your contract says about using the words ‘Flesher’ and ‘going down’ in the same sentence,” Com reprimands his partner.
Having battered the back of Toxxic’s skull Flesher decides to shift up a gear, so he reaches forward in order to try and hook in the Superior Stretch Beta! Toxxic desperately fights him off, but the Superior One merely changes his method again and grabs the rookie’s arms before rolling forward in a Gedo Clutch!
ONE!
TWO!
Toxxic manages to squirm out of the pinning predicament but still ends up on his back on the mat with Tom Flesher closing in on him again. The Brit desperately kicks up at his tormentor but Flesher catches the right leg over his shoulder, so the straight-edger brings his left leg up to apply a form of vertical headscissors and before the Superior One can react he pushes himself up so his entire body is balanced on the top of his skull. He then rotates his upper body 180 degrees and uses the leverage this gives him to bring Flesher over and down to the mat! Flesher takes a moment to rise to his feet but Toxxic’s shotei’d head wasn’t fond of being used as a spinning top, and the rookie is again left with a pounding skull and a momentary inability to react that allows Tom to approach him again and reach down to hook him up for something else...
...but Toxxic gets him in a small package!
ONE!
TWO!!
Flesher breaks the pin easily once the momentary surprise has worn off but Toxxic is quicker to his feet, and the rookie dives over the top of his opponent before the Superior One is fully upright and brings him down with an Oklahoma Roll!
ONE!
TWO!!
Flesher rolls out of the pin again and starts to rise, but eager to keep his opponent busy and help his own head clear Toxxic desperately dives over Tom’s back to bring him down with a sunset flip!
ONE!
TWO!!
Flesher slams his legs into Toxxic’s temples, and the renewed assault on his aching head forces the straight-edger to break the pin. He has also succeeded in thoroughly annoying his opponent, so when Tom gets his feet back on the ground he wastes no time in driving up and forwards to plant his shoulder in the rising straight-edger’s stomach and dump him on his back with a blast double-leg takedown! With his gameplan now firmly decided Flesher reaches forward to apply a front facelock again and wrench Toxxic’s head clean off his shoulders-
“Aaargh!”
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
-but this time Toxxic’s fingers find the eyes of the Superior One, and Tom rolls off his opponent desperately swatting at his face!
“Disqualify him ref!” Riley shouts from the announce table. “That’s disgraceful!”
“Toxxic is trying to play Flesher’s game again,” Janus rumbles, sounding amused. “He’s having more luck this time, but trying to out-cheat Tom is generally futile.”
However questionable the move was it has given Toxxic the opening he needs, and the anger the straight-edger feels at being reduced to such methods has a target in the form of the former World Champion he shares the ring with. Flesher is spun around, eyes still watering and-
*WHAM!*
-receives a European Uppercut to the jaw as the Straight-Edge Sensation looks to make someone suffer for making him appear weak. The Superior One staggers backwards and gets two more for his pains...
*WHAM!*
*WHAM!*
...which drive him back onto the ropes before Toxxic grabs his wrist and whips Flesher across the ring. The hometown (semi)hero manages to reverse the momentum and lowers his head for a back bodydrop as Toxxic rebounds off the ropes but-
*CRUNCH-WHAM!!*
-merely finds his face bouncing off Toxxic’s knee and then being driven into the mat as the straight-edger hits the Sobering Thought, this time not hanging onto the front facelock long enough for Flesher to counter but falling backwards immediately into the DDT. It’s now Allison’s turn to look distraught and start pounding the ring apron as the rejuvenated Toxxic hauls his opponent up, drives a right hand into Flesher’s jaw and attempts to whip him into the far turnbuckles. Flesher again manages to reverse the momentum and sends Toxxic in instead... but that was exactly what the Straight-Edge Sensation was aiming for as he vaults to the top rope and comes flying back at the Superior One with the diving clothesline known as the Role Reversal! Both men end up on their backs for a second after impact - then Toxxic’s legs coil under his chin and the rookie kips up explosively, grinning cockily out at the Buffalo crowd!
“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”
“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”
“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”
“Just look at the arrogance displayed here,” Comet sighs as Toxxic taunts the fans briefly before turning his attention back to Tom Flesher. “You could almost imagine that the two men in the ring were related.”
Toxxic twines his fingers in Flesher’s short, red-blonde hair and brings the Superior One painfully to his feet, ignoring Michael Hall’s admonishments. The straight-edger moves 90 degrees to his right, setting his opponent up, then places his head under the dazed Flesher’s chin and sits out to deliver a devastating jawbreaker! Flesher drops flat to his back, perfectly aligned for what Toxxic has in mind next as the rookie steps through the ropes, rubbing the top of his head as it dawns on him that using it as a weapon wasn’t the smartest thing to do... and raises three fingers over his head.
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Even in Buffalo there are a few people prepared to cheer the bad guy (well, it did produce Tom Flesher after all) and so as the straight-edger begins his next move the local Heel Section sing along, calling out the words as Toxxic vaults to the top rope...
“MONDO!”
...to the turnbuckles...
“AKIMBO!”
...MOONSAULT!
“A-GO-GO!”
*WHAM!!*
The Straight-Edge Sensation arcs through the air and slams into the prone body of Tom Flesher as the camera flashes go off. The impact blasts the breath from Toxxic for a moment but he quickly reaches out to hook the far leg...
ONE!
TWO!!
TH-
-but Tom Flesher kicks out with some force, and Toxxic looks slightly disappointed as he sits back.
“Despite his prodigious and precocious talent Toxxic still sometimes shows his inexperience,” Comet notes. “Instead of continuing his successful work on Citizen Flesher’s head he went for the showy Triple-Jump Moonsault - it looks good, but affects an entirely different area of the body!”
“And that’s what separates him from Tom,” Riley asserts. “Tom knows exactly what he’s doing at all times-”
“-and he will do right up until I drop him on his head,” Janus cuts in. “It’s going to take more than three-dozen varieties of headlock to take my Championship from me.”
Perhaps deciding that he needs to adopt a more simplistic approach, Toxxic straddles his opponent (earning Bobby Riley’s undying envy as he does so) and rears back to start hammering down right hands. The first one smashes into Flesher’s cheekbone, the Superior One gets his hands up to block the second and the third-
-then Toxxic suddenly realises that Flesher’s legs are wrapped around his midsection and the Superior One has grabbed his left arm in a desperate attempt to stall the attack and counter by locking on the Triangle Choke! Having tasted that move when executed by Nathaniel Kibagami Toxxic doesn’t waste a second in throwing himself sideways and stretching with his right arm to reach the ropes... and does so! Flesher tries his best to lock the move in so he can get some sort of revenge before he has to break the hold, but Michael Hall’s count is unrelenting and the Superior One reluctantly releases just before ‘Five’ and rolls away. Toxxic is quicker to his feet and advances on Flesher to regain the initiative, but he walks straight into a-
*SMACK!*
-shotei from the rising Superior One, who then clamps on a front facelock and hoists the straight-edger in the air before dropping him down gut-first over the top rope!
“LET’S GO FLESH-ER!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*
“LET’S GO FLESH-ER!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*
Flesher does not follow up immediately but backs off instead - Toxxic’s burst of offence was fast and effective, his head is hurting him badly and he needs a couple of moments to collect his thoughts. Even his legendary confidence is shaken slightly, and the Superior One no longer feels confident in trying to keep his high-flying opponent grounded. So as Toxxic finishes bouncing on the top rope and falls to the canvas Tom decides to step-up his own offence and readies himself for a charge!
“It’s on its way, Comet,” Riley says. Toxxic is starting to pull himself up, holding his stomach and looking around for his opponent.
“What is?” the masked man asks. Riley takes a deep breath as Flesher sprints across the ring...
“YAAAAAKUUUUUZZZZZAAAAAAA KIIIIIII-oh...”
...but Toxxic ducks! Flesher pulls up short, trying to twist round to keep his eye on his opponent, and Toxxic takes a one-step sideways run-up and lashes out with a superkick-
*WHAP!*
-but Flesher catches it! For a moment the Superior One merely smirks at his opponent, then throws the boot away from him and watches Toxxic twirl a full circle on one foot. As the straight-edger comes back around Flesher steps smartly up, grabs his opponent at shoulder and waist and-
*WHAM!!*
“YEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”
“Logical Disconnect!” Riley yells in delight as Toxxic’s skull bounces off the canvas. “If Flesher’s hit that, it must be teatime in Siberia!”
The Superior One rolls over to hooks Toxxic’s leg and Michael Hall drops down to make the count as the HSBC Arena chants Flesher’s name...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRREEE-NOOOOOOOOOO!
It’s close, but Toxxic manages to get the shoulder up! The Superior One is visibly displeased at Hall’s count and demonstrates the one-two-three that he’d have liked to see, but the official is unrepentant and tells Flesher to get on with the match. Muttering under his breath, Flesher obliges... in his own fashion, of course.
“That’s a choke!” Comet protests as the Superior Hand starts to constrict the Straight-Edge Windpipe. “Has Tom Flesher been reduced to this?”
“He hasn’t been reduced to anything,” Riley argues as Flesher looks up at the fuming Michael Hall and protests his innocence while his right hand squeezes tighter. “This is a brilliant and deliberate strategy on the part of the Superior One. Toxxic can’t jump around if he can’t breathe!”
“Oh, I couldn’t agree more,” Janus says, “and just think, Bobby; if I face these two in a Triple Threat match then there is no disqualification, and therefore no reason why I can’t squeeze Toxxic and Flesher until their eyes pop out.”
That silences Bobby Riley (for the moment at least) and Michael Hall’s five-count finally persuades Tom Flesher that he should allow Toxxic some air. The Buffalo native stands up and turns away from his opponent - ‘accidentally’ dragging the heel of his Doc Marten down the straight-edger’s face as he does so - and backs away while Michael Hall gives him a stern lecture. Unfortunately this means that the referee’s gaze is turned away from the wheezing rookie on the canvas, and there is therefore nothing to stop Allison Onita from reaching out with her handbag strap and choking Toxxic some more...
*THUNK!*
...nothing, that is, except for the fact that Jet has picked up a chair from beside Funyon and has ‘casually’ whacked it into the ringpost. The noise attracts Allison’s attention and she instantly backs away from the younger girl, every line of her body suggesting that it would have been a freak and regrettable coincidence if any item belonging to her had happened to come into contact with Jet’s boyfriend, oh dear me yes... Meanwhile Flesher sees over Hall’s shoulder that his opponent is not being satisfactorily asphyxiated and moves forward to take control of events again.
“TAAAAAAAAA-MO...”
“TAAAAAAAAA-MO...”
“TAAAAAAAAA-MO...”
Flesher brings Toxxic up and sends a shotei into his opponent’s face to stagger him, then blasts one into the straight-edger’s stomach. Toxxic folds up and slumps backwards, landing in a seated position at the base of the turnbuckles where Flesher steps up, places the side of his Doc on the rookie’s cheek and almost takes Toxxic’s head off with a nasty bootscrape! As the crowd respond with mixed reactions - half cheering, half going “OOOHHHHH...” - Flesher steps up for a repeat performance, this time almost needing to scrape Toxxic’s facial features from the sole of his boot upon completion!
“That’ll smudge his eyeliner!” Riley cackles.
The Superior One backs up a few steps, smiling smugly, and bounces on the spot a couple of time, evidently limbering up for something. He slaps his right thigh a couple of times, takes a couple of theatrical deep breaths and charges in, looking to deliver a brutal running version that would surely leave the rookie requiring reconstructive surgery... but Toxxic half-ducks, half-falls to one side and Flesher merely finds himself making an intimate acquaintance with the middle rope! The Superior Package is only mildly compressed by its arrival and Flesher does not suffer any undue groinal trauma, but Toxxic manages to hook an arm between his opponent’s legs and bring the Superior One over into a schoolboy pin!
ONE!
TWO!!
THR-
Kickout!
Flesher rolls back up to his feet and lunges forward, snaring the still-dazed rookie in a front facelock and dragging him backwards to the centre of the ring with a smug grin on his face.
“What’s coming up now?” Riley asks with interest. “Superiority Complex? Brainbuster?”
Flesher reaches down and hooks Toxxic’s right leg from the inside.
“No,” Comet replies quietly. “Caffeine Bomb.”
With a look around at his home crowd the Superior One hoists his opponent upwards, seeking to drop Toxxic with his own finisher for the second time... but in mid-air the straight-edger twists! He squirms out of Flesher’s grip, lands behind him and manages to hook in a Dragon sleeper on the way down!
“Reversed!” Comet yells. “Toxxic could get the Repeat To Fade hooked in here!”
But Toxxic doesn’t go for the hammerlock and bodyscissors - instead he starts to push forwards and down, looking to drive Flesher onto his front and apply the Superior Stretch Beta! He manages to get the Superior One down to his knees but then Flesher’s desperately scrabbling hands manage to pry Toxxic’s arm open just enough to squeeze his head out and he scrambles away!
“Merciful Zeus!” Comet seethes. “When will these two stop trying to show each other up with their opponent’s moves and try winning the match?”
“They seem to care more about each other than about me and my title,” Janus comments. “And that will cost them.”
Toxxic lunges forward, looking to regain the advantage, but Flesher simply slams another shotei into the side of the straight-edger’s head before Irish whipping him into the ropes. The Brit rebounds and Flesher grabs him under the arms, looking to bring him over with the Railgun suplex... but Flesher is tired too and he doesn’t hook it quite as well as he might, with the result that Toxxic is able to somersault forward through the move-
*THWAP!*
-and land, albeit somewhat unsteadily, on his feet.
“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”
“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”
“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”
Flesher scrambles up off the mat in an attempt to shut the rookie down before Toxxic can get any room to manoeuvre, but the Straight-Edge Sensation is already moving. Before Tom is even fully upright Toxxic launches himself along the mat, slicing into Flesher’s shins and sending the former World Champion head-over-heels. The Superior One is up straight away again, but he’s hobbling now. And Toxxic manages to double-underhook Flesher’s arms before bringing him UP...
...AROUND...
...AND...
...DOWN!
*WHAM!!*
“Toxxic Shock Syndrome!” Comet calls as the entire HSBC Arena groans. “Toxxic could be about to defeat Flesher in his hometown!”
“No!” Riley screams. “Don’t let it happen! Hall, if you count this...”
The rookie lies beside the prone Flesher for a couple of seconds, desperately trying to clear his head after the pounding he’s taken and the last-gasp exertion of the Toxxic Shock Syndrome. Only then does he manage to muster the effort to roll the Superior One onto his back and drape an arm over for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!!
THHHRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
“RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!”
“Flesher kicks out,” Comet yells above the din, “and Buffalo is behind him now!”
Toxxic stares up at Michael Hall with pleading in his black-rimmed eyes, but the official sticks to his original decision and it starts to dawn on Toxxic that last-gasp was not enough. So he slowly pushes himself to his feet again, wearily twirls two fingers over his head and heads for the nearest turnbuckle. Meanwhile, Flesher has made no move since kicking out of the pin.
“It looks like Toxxic could be going for the Hangover here,” Comet notes as the straight-edger heads up top, “and after the Toxxic Shock Syndrome it could finish the job...”
...but Flesher has other ideas! As Toxxic reaches the apex of his climb Tom starts to rise; in the process he ‘accidentally’ grabs onto Michael Hall for support and ‘accidentally’ sends the referee into the ring ropes, an event that causes Toxxic to lose his precarious footing and land crotch-first astride the top buckle!
“FLESH-ER! FLESH-ER! FLESH-ER!”
Jet is screaming at Hall, but the referee can’t prove that Flesher’s actions were intentional. His possum act didn’t actually involve that much acting - he’s finding it difficult to stand unaided, but the Superior One makes it to the corner and starts to climb, reaching the second rope and placing Toxxic in a front facelock!
“Boilermaker!” Riley exults. “Drop him Tom! Drop him like your towel at bathtime!”
Flesher sets himself and tries to lift, but his attempts are impeded by Toxxic desperately driving a fist into his ribs! The blow winds the Superior One, and as he tries to get his breath back Toxxic fires off another... and another... Tom is forced to release the facelock and the straight-edger sits up and nails his opponent in the face with a European Uppercut, causing Flesher to topple unsteadily!
Janus leans forward, red eyes fixed intently on events.
Flesher is out of his element and only barely holding on. Toxxic takes his chance to swing his feet over the top rope until they rest on the middle cable next to the Superior One’s, then with his new improved leverage he reaches down... and hooks Flesher’s right leg from the inside.
“No...” Comet whispers.
“Not this!” Riley squeals.
Janus just laughs.
With one last, almighty effort Toxxic forces his tired muscles to lift 230lbs of egomaniac off the second buckle, jumping forwards and dropping as he does so. It isn’t crisp, and it isn’t clean.
But it does drop Tom Flesher right on his head in the middle of the HSBC Arena.
*BAM!*
The leg is already cradled for the fall. And as Michael Hall drops to make the count the Hell Machine rises from his seat at the announce desk.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!
*DING-DING-DING!*
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
The crunching guitars of Lostprophets ring out over the HSBC Arena, mingling with jeers from the fans and Bobby Riley’s whimperings. Toxxic slumps backwards, exhausted almost to the point of collapse by his efforts - but he has done it. He has beaten Tom Flesher. And the lopsided grin creeps over his features again.
A grin that disappears as a black fingerless-gloved hand reaches down and clamps around his throat.
“Is there any need for this?” Comet yells in frustration as Janus hauls Toxxic up. “Sure, kill each other, but do it in a match!”
The Hell Machine isn’t listening however, and with one surge of powerful muscles he hoists the Straight-Edge Sensation nine feet into the air before driving him down to the canvas with a monstrous chokeslam! Janus isn’t satisfied and reaches down to do more damage but Jet slides through the ropes and grabs Toxxic’s foot, towing him back out of the ring before the huge Australian can attack again. Red eyes blazing, the Hell Machine turns in search of his other challenger only to find that Allison has performed the same service for Tom Flesher. Deprived of his chance to inflict lasting damage Janus settles for unclipping the World Title from his waist, raising it above his head and roaring his defiance at anyone who would seek to take it from him, as we
FADE OUT
© SWF 2004
