JJ Johnson

I suggest you post your stats in the new stats thread, if you haven't done that already. Nobody's going to want to go looking for the old stats thread if/when they get booked against you.

You can do that anyway. On a running play, press the Hot Route button, then the opposite direction of the run.

Righto then. *has a crumpet*

Holy shit. I completely forgot about the ringpost sparks. I put those in there and completely forgot about them. *goes and edits them out of entrance because ironically enough, he's never used them* And all this time I was sticking up for him! Norris, you double-crossing bastard!

Yeah...but you're also facing an American. Play it tweener.

I have to say I liked your match more, ELM. I'm not sure why, but it was just more fun to read for me. Speaking of losing, here's my match. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Hello and groeten, ladies and gentlemen! I’m Longdogger Pete, joined by my partner the Suicide King, and we are here LIVE inside the Casso Rosso club in B-E-A-UTIFUL Amsterdam, nestled deep in the heart of the Netherlands! WELCOME to SWF Storm!” says the SWF’s play-by-play man, welcoming both the wide-awake European and probably off eating lunch North American crowd. “Did you just say scrotum?” And the Suicide King contributes another gem thanks to his inability to speak Dutch. “No, I said “groeten”. It’s “greetings” in Dutch.” explains Pete. “Since when do you know Dutch, Pete?” inquires King. “It’s right there, on the monitors.” And for a second time tonight, Pete’s explanation is correct, every word they say appearing, in Dutch, on the monitors. “Huh. You know I always thought that-” Whatever King intended to say, it’s cut off by the sound of...bagpipes? The crowd looks around in confusion, as there is no bagpiper in either of the upcoming competitors entrance music. King is less confused. “No...no that’s not just some bagpiper. This was a UFC theme, but whoms?” It is then that the bagpipes cease, and the heavy post-bagpipe riff of “Let’s Do This Now” by KoRn heralds the arrival of the challenger. “Oh, right! Johnson!” shouts King, as the former, and possibly future, Hardcore Gamer’s Champion steps through the curtain hung over the dressing room (read: men’s bathroom) door. Johnson has abandoned his tights, robes, etc. for black cargos, Johnson’s many tattoos almost glistening in the spotlight, one in particular on his left arm standing out. The characters are incomprehensible to all in attendance, as they are in Chinese, but thanks to the magic of MONITOR TRANSLATORS, King and Pete know what it means. “Pain is the best instructor, but no one wants to go to his class...a little ominous, don’t you think?” Pete is first to give his review of the judo-inspired ink. “That’s the coolest saying I’ve ever heard! I’m getting that tattooed on my forehead! And that wouldn’t make me the only one getting my forehead tattooed tonight!” King’s review is a little different, and the second statement only serves to prompt another question from Pete. “Who else is getting a tattoo on their forehead that you know?” is the Longdogger’s perfectly reasonable question. “Oh, you didn’t hear? Zyon’s getting a tattoo of knuckles on his forehead. And Johnson’s going to help!” In a strange coincidence, as King cackles at his pun, Johnson enters the ring with the chorus of his theme playing in the background... BREAK YOU NOW MERCY I CANNOT ALLOW THROUGH YOUR FACE MY FIST WILL PLOW WATCHING AS YOUR BLOOD POURS DOWN LET’S DO THIS NOW Before those five lines can repeat, they are shut off, along with the lights, and replaced by a new theme. There is no Smarktron, and so “I’m born”, “I’m alive”, and “I breathe” are purely audio on this occasion, a golden glint resulting from spotlight hitting championship as Zyon makes his way out of the men’s room, the Netherlands crowd rising to their feet to greet the Indiana native. “This is going to be a great match, King! Two great fliers, and yet two different styles! A title on the line!” “And HOOKERS! Just like home!” finishes the Suicide King, although that may or may not have been what Pete intended to say. Zyon skips his traditional headbanging, choosing instead to find the best girl possible before Johnson does. Johnson apparently doesn’t care, simply pointing at one and giving a quick “come here” signal. Zyon finds one as well, and brings her into the ring. Now that the teams are complete, Funyon can begin his announcements, and he does so. “The following contest is the RED LIGHT RUMBLE, and it is for the SWF Hardcore Gamer’s Championship! Here are the rules: Each contestant picks one employee of the Cassa Rosso to be their partner. The match then becomes a Tornado Tag match, with no disqualifications. If a member of Zyon’s team scores the deciding fall, Zyon retains the championship. In that same vein, if a member of Johnson’s team scores the deciding fall, the championship goes to the challenger.” Funyon pauses to take a breath, then continues. “...and introducing the participants! First, the champion and his partner, from Elkhart, Indiana and Amsterdam, Holland...” RAAAAAAAAAHH!! “...respectively, and at a combined weight of 307 pounds, Zyon and Heidi!” “Heidi?” asks King. “How stereotypical.” “And the opponents, consisting of the challenger and his partner, from Windsor, Ontario, Canada and Grenoble, France respectively, and at a combined weight of...” It is at this point that Funyon realizes he never got a weight from the challenger’s partner. And from the “mind your own business” look on her face, he’s not getting one. “...at a combined weight of AT LEAST 219 pounds, JJ Johnson and Renee!” “Renee?” asks Pete. “How stereotypical.” DING DING DING! And so the match, in stereotypical “bell ringing” fashion, begins, Sexton Hardcastle, Ronald “Red” Herrington and Ced Ordonez the three referees assigned to this match to make sure that no pinfall or submission goes unnoticed. Johnson starts off by pulling a kendo stick out of his belt loop and swinging it at his desired target. WHAP! The swing is accurate, and Renee the French hooker hits the floor, unconscious after she just had a stiff bamboo rod bounced off her skull. Zyon and Heidi stare at the fallen Frog until Johnson lashes out again, and the Netherlander joins Renee on the canvas. BOOOOOOOOOOO!! Zyon looks down at the Holland hooker, hazy horror haranguing his head. He then looks up at Johnson, who mouths “One on one”. Zyon realizes that it’s Tornado Tag, and he has to fight or else he loses the belt he fought so hard to win, fought so hard up to this point to keep. Johnson tosses the stick aside, and the two engage in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Johnson is quick to snake his leg behind Zyon’s and force the smaller competitor to the mat, then drop on top of him to maintain control. “And a judo trip to officially start things off after Johnson KOs both he and Zyon’s partners. For some reason, Johnson isn’t going to trust a Frenchwoman to do any fighting.” King comments. Johnson rolls off of Zyon and kips up, drawing some boos that are quickly drowned out by cheers as the Indianan mimics the maneuver! Johnson lashes out with a lazy hook kick that Zyon easily ducks. Zyon then strides to the ropes and onto the second, where he springs back into a moonsault body block that finds the two chest to chest, the champion’s momentum forcing the challenger onto his back. Zyon follows up that Half Moon by going for another, splashing down onto Johnson’s chest and hooking the leg as Herrington slides into the ring to make the count. ONE! But Johnson shoots his shoulder off the mat, stopping the ref’s count. Johnson then worms his way out from under the less experienced Zyon and shoves himself to his feet to deliver a sharp kick to the ribs of the Unique Youth. As the Indianan clutches at his chest, Johnson slides out of the ring and goes in search of weaponry. A quick glance under the ring reveals that the readiest weapon available is a table. Johnson grabs it and stands upright, hoisting the table up to put into the ring. CLANG! ...and inadvertently blocking Zyon’s kendo stick shot! Johnson immediately enters Ultimate Fighter mode, abandoning the table and rolling into the ring as Zyon barely misses another shot. Johnson scrambles to his feet and throws a kick that knocks the kendo stick out of Zyon’s hand and into the air, which he then grabs and swings at the Unique Youth’s head. Zyon has a trick up his sleeve, though, as he bridges back Matrix-style, avoiding the stinging bamboo. Johnson misses no time in aiming his backswing at Zyon’s forehead, but that too fails, Zyon doing a backflip as the stick goes whistling under him. Landing on his feet, Zyon dashes forward and delivers a front dropkick to Johnson’s chest, kipping up for the second time in the match to thunderous applause. Oh snap! “Would you look at that! Zyon showing both his flexibility and his control over his body to dodge what could have been hard shots from that kendo stick, then showing his speed by delivering that dropkick!” Pete says, obviously impressed. “So he pulls a reversal out of his BUTT. Wow. Big whoop. I bet Johnson could do that.” King is less impressed, as you can see. Johnson rolls through the kick and back to his feet, running forward and dodging the kendo stick that is now in Zyon’s possession as he bounces off the ropes. Zyon turns around as Johnson is throwing his boot up. CRACK! The champ falls victim to a Yakuza kick, and the challenger hooks the leg as Herrington begins the count. ONE! TWO! T-KICKOUT! Johnson immediately rolls off his opponent and out to the floor, where he grabs the table from earlier and slides it into the ring. He then follows, Zyon just starting to get up as he shakes the cobwebs out of his head. Johnson sets up the table in the corner, being very careful to get the angle just right before turning around to see Zyon running at him! Johnson dives through the ropes to the apron, not wanting to waste the table just yet, and stands, wiping his brow as if it’s hard work dodging the Unique Youth. He then turns around and... WHAP! ...finds out just how hard it is, Zyon springing off the table to the outside and nailing a dropkick on the cocky Canadian! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH! “Wow! Zyon’s feet making an impact, even while being thought on! A creative move from the champion to take the challenger off both the apron and his high horse!” Pete calls, unintentionally and thoughtlessly butchering the term “thinking on your feet” with his attempted personification. “Did you just thoughtlessly butcher the term “thinking on your feet”?” asks King. “Not intentionally.” Pete responds as Johnson pulls himself off the ground, checking his nose for bleeding. Finding none, he turns around just in time to watch Zyon leap off the apron and wrap his legs around his JJ’s head as he performs a hurricanrana! Ordonez slides in to count it! ONE! TWO! T-BRIDGE OUT! Although Johnson was caught by surprise, he’s not weary enough to suffer a fate similar to what toppled Todd Cortez just four days ago. Johnson is up to his feet at the same time Zyon is, and begins a kick and fist laden assault in an attempt to get the match back under control. Zyon attempts to block them, but the flurry of blows is too much for him to handle, and he realizes he has two options if he can’t find a way to halt Johnson’s strikes: Fight back and lose, or defend himself and lose. WHAM! He takes the first option, but one measly punch isn’t enough to deter an Ultimate Fighter, and Johnson continues raining blow after blow after blow. BAM! After blow. BAM! After blow. BAM! BAM! BAM! After blow after blow after blow. Zyon finally worms his way out from under the challenger and stands, turning around to attempt to regain his advantage before Johnson can get to his feet. Unfortunately, Johnson jumps from his knees to his feet, and from his feet to the air, before driving one of his feet into Zyon’s chin! SMACK! OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH! Even though he’s the bad guy, the fans “ooooh” in appreciation of the athletic maneuver as Zyon stares at the lights of the club, and Johnson goes looking for another implement of opponent destruction. On his way, he grabs the kendo stick out of the ring and cracks Renee and Heidi upside the head once more, just to make sure they stay down. A trip to Funyon’s position later, and Johnson is in possession of both a kendo stick and a steel chair. Johnson makes his way back to where Zyon is up to his knees, his brains (and jaw) rattled by that thrust kick, and sets up the chair before sizing up Zyon with the stick. “Hmmm...what are we going to see here?” ponders Pete, possibly petrified. “Stop the alliteration, dammit!” shouts King, kangaroo...oh never mind. Johnson’s motive then becomes clear, as he runs and leaps, using the chair as a springboard to propel him towards Zyon, kendo stick raised, ready to strike... “NICE dropkick by Zyon!” “Bah!” ...but not ready to be struck. Alas, he is, Zyon managing to force both his feet into Johnson’s stomach and send the Canadian tumbling head over heels upon reaching the ground. “And with that, Zyon buys a little more time to recuperate AND gets that weapon out of Johnson’s hands!” calls Pete. And indeed, Johnson has lost his grip on the martial arts training device, which Zyon picks up and readies to strike a blow of his own. Johnson waits a moment, then kips up, almost cat-like with his “I meant for that to happen. Honestly.” look on his face, then turns around as ZYON SWINGS THE KENDO STICK... ...and Johnson makes Keanu Reeves proud, bridging backwards much like Zyon did earlier to avoid the shot from the stick. However, unlike Zyon, Johnson doesn’t give his assailant time to swing again as he leaps FROM THE MATRIX POSITION TO DELIVER A NO-TOUCH ENZIGUIRI! WHAP! “I LOVE IT, PETE! Not only does Johnson do that Matrix dodge, and better than Zyon does I might add, but he kicks his THE FIRST THREE LETTERS OF THIS WORD HAVE BEEN EDITTED OUT SO WE CAN AIR THIS IN THE UNITED STATES. THANK YOU. ...king head off! What a move!” King is ELATED that Johnson was able to land such an athletic kick, and Pete, while not as elated, is certainly impressed. “I may not be as elated as you are, but I’m certainly impressed. That was a great counter.” Johnson lands hard on his left arm as Zyon falls to his knees, then his face, his eyes glossed over after the HEAD TRAUMA~! that results from an enziguiri. Johnson rolls over for the cover and says, in a quiet and raspy voice that the camera still picks up, “That’s why you don’t turn your back on me, Gomer.” “Ha! Gomer! I get it! Because he’s from Indiana, just like Gomer was!” King shouts. “Ummm...Gomer was from North Carolina.” corrects Pete as Zyon kicks out at two. “Are we talking about the same Gomer?” “Gomer Pyle?” “Yeah.” “Yeah. North Carolina.” You can almost hear the Price is Right failure song in the background as King stares blankly at his broadcast associate. Meanwhile, Johnson has hit two rolling Germans, and has his hands clasped for a third as Zyon tears at his arms, trying his damndest to not have his spine jarred again by the impactful maneuver. Sadly, his efforts just aren’t enough on this occasion, and he once more finds himself sailing backwards, then down. WHUMP! BOOO! Johnson keeps the hands clasped, hoists Zyon up, and hits a fourth... ...then another lift... ...then a fifth... ...then another lift... ...then a sixth... ...then another lift... ...then a seventh... ...then another lift... ...then an eighth... NO! Zyon breaks the grip of Johnson and rolls forward, grabbing Johnson’s legs and stacking him on his shoulders as the Hardcastle makes the count! ONE TWO THREE!!! NO! Johnson thrusts his legs out and forward, breaking Zyon’s grip and getting himself off of his shoulders just before the three count. “And a surprise Victory Roll almost wins the match for Zyon! How anticlimatic would THAT have been?” Pete asks. “Very.” is King’s bitter response. Zyon’s upper back and shoulders ache from the seven German suplexes onto concrete and very, very thin padding. He looks for a weapon, then realizes that that table is still set up in the corner of the ring. He slides in to grab it, but Johnson slides in as well and grabs HIM. Zyon tries to stomp the still-grounded Johnson, but he moves too fast and is up to his feet, delivering a boot to the gut before applying a standing head-scissors. “Johnson could be looking for a Tiger Driver here.” LDP points out. Johnson hooks the left arm. “Yeah, and right next to a table. He’ll probably take the table out of the corner and set it up or something after this.” notes King. Johnson hooks the right arm, all the energy he’s expended and all of Zyon’s offense catching up to him now. “Wait...you don’t think...” But Pete doesn’t get to finish his thought, as Johnson lifts. Turns. And drops. Through a table. “OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY THE FIRST THREE LETTERS HAVE BEEN EDITTED AGAINKING GOD!” shouts King, “I CONCUR, KING! TIGER DRIVER THROUGH A TABLE SET UP IN A CORNER! ZYON FELL RIGHT ON HIS NECK! THIS COULD BE ACADEMIC!” cries Pete, as Johnson staggers for a moment, then falls to his knees and goes for the cover. ONE TWO THREE! NO! NO! HEIDI, of all people, dives into the ring and breaks up the pin! “AND THE SURPRISES KEEP COMING! After all Johnson has done, after all his efforts to keep the women out of this match, a prostitute may have cost him a chance at glory! The ironing is delicious!” calls Pete. “Irony.” corrects King. “What did I say?” “Ironing.” Once again, a Price is Right moment occurs at the announce table, this time Pete’s turn to stare blankly. Heidi, on the other hand, is slapping the hell out of a steadily angrier and angrier Ultimate Fighter, who finally has had enough and shoves her down. Striking a hooker! HEEL HEAT~! Johnson is up slowly, and just as soon as he’s up Heidi is back on the offeensive, throwing slaps like nobodies business. Johnson is about to strike back, when Heidi’s offense is derailed by Renee! And so the two prostitutes catfight out of the ring as Johnson turns to the formerly assumed dead, now assumed up to one elbow Zyon, laying in the wreckage of the table, one half of it still laying on top of him. Johnson steps back and waits for the Unique Youth to rise. It takes a while, but Zyon eventually shrugs off the impact and makes it to his feet. Johnson then moves in and ducks around, trying for what would make an eighth German, but Zyon blocks it. Johnson tries again. Zyon blocks it again. Johnson tries again, and finally gets Zyon over his head... ...but Zyon turns the tide in his favor, spiking Johnson into the former table with a reverse hurricanrana! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!! The crowd goes nuts as Zyon once again has the match in his hands, and he goes for the cover! ONE TWO Throws Zyon off his shoulders just before the three count does Johnson, the fans disappointed that Zyon wasn’t able to put the Ultimate Fighter away with the headspiky goodness that is the reverse ‘rana. Then again, Johnson wasn’t able to put Zyon away with a Tiger Driver through a table, so there you go. Meanwhile, Heidi and Renee are still slapping each other. This appears to be the extent of their moveset. Johnson and Zyon are both up now, and Zyon has climbed to the top rope. Before he can leap off and perform one of his signature high-flying maneuvers, Johnson hits the ropes, causing Zyon to take the NUT SHOT OF DOOM on the top turnbuckle. “Please remember, ladies and gentlemen, that this is a Tornado Tag match, and not a one on one contest. The women aren’t doing anything exciting, though, and so we’re focusing on WHERE THE ACTION IS! MONDAY NITR-err, Johnson and Zyon.” the Longdogger informs us. Johnson has scaled the turnbuckles now, and is looking for something, anything that’ll put him away and win him this title. ANYTHING. Then it occurs to him. Johnson holds onto one of Zyon’s arms and pulls, almost as if going for an avalanche monkey flip. But as Zyon flips, Johnson flips with him, wrapping his legs around his arm and pulling as they fall to the ground... BAM! ...and Johnson keeps the armbar locked on, the two bouncing perhaps a half-inch off the canvas as the painful maneuver, comboed with the harsh landing, begins to take effect. “AVALANCHE SPIDER JUJI-GATAME, and Johnson may very well have this match won! There’s no way Zyon can get to the ropes, and even if he could, there’s no rope breaks!” King is more arrogant than Johnson is at this point, but then again, King is more arrogant than anyone on the roster. That’s saying a lot, but Johnson could care less about who’s arrogant or not. He’s got a title to win. Zyon could care even less than Johnson about who’s arrogant or not. He’s got a title to retain, and the chances of that aren’t looking too good at the moment. From the look on his face, the pain is excruciating. From the look on Johnson’s face, the thought of regaining the only title he’s ever held is thrilling. Zyon manages to roll himself off his back, putting Johnson in a School Boy of sorts as Ordonez slides in for the cover. ONE! TWO! But Johnson rolls through, and has Zyon in perfect position. “JOHNSON COULD LOCK IN THE FROSTBITE HERE! If he does, this match is over, Pete.” King may be arrogant, but with the weak neck that comes with Tiger Drivers through tables, he may have a point. All Johnson has to do is get himself onto his back while keeping Zyon face down and cross his face with his leg, and it’s academic from there. That can’t happen if a hooker from the Netherlands breaks it up though, and unlikely as it may be to happen, it does, Heidi clawing at Johnson’s back in an attempt to force a break. Johnson refuses to let go, attempting to roll onto his back, knowing that once he does there’s no amount of clawing that’ll keep him from regaining the title. "AH! I NEED THOSE GOD DAMMIT!" Unless of course, said raking is to the eyes. Johnson immediately breaks the hold and rolls out of clawing distance as Renee comes in and tackles Heidi, her momentum taking both prostitutes out of the ring. Zyon is up, favoring his arm as he ducks a Yakuza kick, then fires back with a kick of his own, this one spinning wheel, that takes both men down. Both are up quickly, and Johnson fires a quick kick to Zyon’s left arm. Zyon winces, but throws a punch back. “These men have been fighting for damn near 15 minutes! Doesn’t Zyon realize by now that he can’t outstrike Johnson?” King practically spits. Johnson moves in closer and, with a pop of his hips, Zyon is overhead and falling fast, the victim of a railgun suplex. Zyon rolls through, minimizing the impact and the time spent on the ground, both of which are dangerous when facing a man like Johnson. Instead of turning around, Zyon springs off the second rope for the third Half Moon of the match, but falls a little short and ends up kneeing Johnson in the head. That ends up probably being better than chest-to-chest contact, as Johnson’s eyes dim for a moment, and he collapses. “And what I can only guess is an accidental knee to the face puts both men down on the mat once more.” Zyon hops up and goes to the top rope, then drops a leg drop! Cover! ONE! TWO! THR-SHOULDER UP! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO And Johnson refuses to stay down, rolling onto his knees and staggering up to his feet... ...and into a standing headscissors. “Johnson in position for the Final Hour! If he hits this, he could hit the Final Flash! If he hits that, he retains!” Pete shouts. “Nope, Johnson’ll find a way. He always finds a way. Always.” King says, not so sure of himself. Zyon lifts Johnson, pausing halfway, Johnson’s feet dangling as his head is positioned above the mat. If Zyon lets go, Johnson will fall straight down. Although Zyon wants to drop him on his head anyway. Zyon cradles the leg, knowing that this is his last resort. If the combo should somehow fail, he’s ripe for Johnson’s picking. And Johnson picks painfully. Johnson stares out at the upside-down crowd that’s simultaneously waving to Zyon and flicking him off. He looks up, technically down, and sees the canvas. He looks back out at the crowd. Shuts his eyes. And goes limp. Zyon looks out at the crowd that’s simultaneously waving at him and flicking his opponent off. He looks down, technically Johnson’s up, and sees Johnson looking down at the canvas himself. Zyon looks back at the crowd at the same time Johnson does. Then drops. King can only cover his eyes, not wanting to watch as Johnson’s head hits the mat, his spine compressing upon impact. BANG! “FINAL HOUR! Now finish the job!” shouts Pete. King retains his position, not one second taking his hands off of his eyes. Renee grabs the used kendo stick on the outside and clocks Heidi with it. Zyon climbs to the top rope and stands straight up. He looks down at Johnson. Looks out at the crowd. Looks back at Johnson. And in that instant, he’s in midair, flipping forward and falling fast, the fans counting the seconds to impact almost. ONE TWO THREE! AND THE FINAL FLASH CONNECTS! DING DING DING! Zyon doesn’t go for the cover, but sits up in confusion, looking around for the reason the bell rung. Somersault sentons aren’t illegal, and it’s hardcore anyway. He looks out at the crowd. The crestfallen crowd. He stands up, the club deathly silent, and looks to the outside. And sees it, just moments before he hears it. The ref raising Renee’s hand in victory, Heidi staring at the ceiling. And it hits him. They weren’t counting moments til impact. They were counting a pinfall. A pinfall in his opponent’s favor. The match is over. And so is his 33 day reign. And Johnson doesn’t even know it as “Let’s Do This Now” hits, and Funyon makes the announcement. “Here is your winner, and the NEW Hardcore Champion respectively, Renee and J...J...JOHNSON!!!” BOOOOOOO!!! “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!” “You don’t have to scream, King, I’m right here.” “Sorry Pete, I’m just excited.” “Good for you. Ladies and gentlemen, Zyon had Johnson beaten. Zyon had the match won. If this match had been one-on-one, we’d be listening to Incubus...” “God forbid.” King interrupts. “...instead of Korn, and Zyon would be able to continue defending his title, proud in the knowledge he had beaten Johnson one on one. But it WASN’T one on one. It was Tornado Tag. And, pardon the pun, a hooker just screwed Zyon out of the title.” Pete says, angrily. “All good points, but if this match were 1-on-1, Johnson would have won with that Tiger Driver. If this match were 1-on-1, Zyon would have been put in the Frostbite, and he would have tapped out, and Johnson would have won. Don’t blame the stip, Pete. Johnson was DESTINED to become champion tonight. It was DESTINY.” King replies. “Destiny or not, the Johnson era...” “Dynasty.” corrects King again. “...the Johnson ERA has begun once more.” Zyon simply stares as road agents Austin Sly and Mohammad Koran come from the back and drag Johnson out of the ring, helping him to the back as Hardcastle putting the belt over his shoulder. Almost as if the belt were made not of gold, but of smelling salts, Johnson rejoins the land of the conscious. Looks down at his shoulder. At the belt. At HIS belt. And grins. FADE OUT

The F-U. I win.

We're in France? Facing Americans? Huzzah for de facto facedom!

I thought it was. What was Ole's finisher? I'm completely blanking out on my 4 Horsemen Finishers

The card. Because it'd be somewhat tricky without it. I don't feel like posting again, so just erase my answers. Or, if you agree with me, don't. MAIN EVENT - Best o' Five Toxxic vs. Scott Pretzler © I don't know what the series is at, so I'll just say Toxxic anyway. El Luchadore Magnifico vs. Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix Every time I predict ELM, I'm wrong. Mags. Wildchild vs. Mak Francis WC after...a move. Manson vs. Jay Hawke © Manson for the non-titleosity win. Todd Cortez vs. Ghost Machine Zangief screws Ghost Machine again. House Rules - Red Light Rumble for the SWF Hardcore Championship Zyon © vs. JJ Johnson That guy that was in the Acropolis Now match.

Regal's a tough son of a bitch, so don't think him kicking out devalues the move. Richards I can understand. But when a move is so stiff people are scared of taking it, even from a guy who knows what he's doing better than anyone else in Chris Benoit, you know a move's death. Was it Tully Blanchard or Ole Anderson that did the slingshot suplex as their finisher? Wouldn't a slingshot dragon suplex be the absolute coolest spot ever? Get em up and bounce them on their ass off the top rope, then use that momentum for the suplex? *adds that to "Finishers" section* *well, maybe not*

In the 80's, with Jake the Snake, the DDT was law. The DDT was rule. No one but Jake did it, and no one kicked out. That's just the way it is, though. Moves become commonplace, and then they lose their mystique, and then they become transitional. In 20 years, everyone will do the Rock Bottom, and everyone will kick out of it. It will have become a transitional move, and we'll all be watching as the Triple Front Flip Last Ride dominates wrestling.

I sent mine in Tuesday night. Well, early early Wednesday morning. So no worries there.

What the hell is with Regal's entrance music? It's borderline country. BRING BACK HIS 2002 HEEL MUSIC!

I can explain that. Hawke is obviously working the arm for the Wing Span, and Johnson is working the neck because he probably has some sort of wicked neck drop suplex he can pull out. The new Frostbite is an inverted juji-gatame with a leg crossface, which works both the neck and the arm. So while it looks like they have minds of their own, they're working together to help set up the submission.

Barroom Brawl?! *marks out*

That explanation smells of something recently pulled out of one's BUTT. Works for me, though.

The show room was about 12 feet by 20 That's not good. Your standard wrestling ring is 18x18 or bigger. I think a cool idea would have been to have the show in the parking lot outside where U2 is playing.

Interesting fact: That guy from the stands, and the crowd chant, weren't in Danish. They were in Dutch. My Mac doesn't have an English-to-Danish translator, but it has Dutch, and I figured no one would tell the difference unless I told them.

Yeah. At least, that's how I always write it.

Sorry about that, but I was running out of things to call you without sounding redundant. And I hate redundancy. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

BEST. STIP. EVER. Editted for card being up-ness.

Hooray for no heavy lifting! Boo for melted pancrei. (Pancreases?) But yeah, good to hear you're fine.

MAIN EVENT - Three-Time World Champion Classic, Vol 3.0 El Luchador Magnifico vs. Danny Williams Rules: Standard. Word Limit: 6000 The tree. (Get it? Get it? ELM? Huh? ...sorry.) PURE RULES - SWF World Heavyweight Championship Ejiro Fasaki © vs. Wildchild Rules: Standard, with Pure Wrestling addenda - each wrestler has three rope breaks. A wrestler loses a rope break when he throws a closed-fist punch or uses the ropes to break a submission hold. If a wrestler with no rope breaks left attempts to use the ropes to break a submission hold, the rope break is of no effect and the submission stays on; if he throws a punch, he is disqualified. Word Limit: 7000 Ejiretains SUBMISSION MATCH - SWF World Cruiserweight Championship Toxxic vs. Scott Pretzler © Rules: Standard, with cruiserweight addenda, and the stipulation that the match may not end with a pin - countouts and disqualifications are in effect, but the only clean way to win is by forcing your opponent to submit. Word Limit: 6000 Snowflake Clutch > Repeat to Fade SINGLES MATCH Johnny Dangerous vs. "The Franchise" Mak Francis Rules: Standard. Word Limit: 5000 Johnny. SINGLES MATCH Zyon vs. Todd Cortez Rules: Standard. Word Limit: 4500 Hmmmm...gonna give the nod to Cortez. TAG TEAM MATCH Arch Griffon and Manson vs. "The Dean of Professional Wrestling" Jay Hawke and JJ Johnson Rules: Standard. Use the tag ropes. Word Limit: 4500 The team with two guys on it.

It's a new kind of pot. It's hardest on people trying it for the first time.