Being early blows.
“This” . . . Pete stops mid phrase to stare at the cage that hangs above him. “This is the end. This next match” Pete stops again, gazing at the land mines that may soon go off, should it be needed. “This next match ends 2 months of work. 2 months of sweat. And certainly 2 months of blood.”
“We’ve seen some crazy shit.” King adds. Maybe neutral for now, but we now ultimately he’s pulling for Blank. “Light tubes, and thumbtacks and broken glass.”
“And cereal” Pete adds to the hardcore vibe.
King gets a feed in from his ear piece “I hear that this cage will contain 500 volts of electricity.”
“Is that a lot?” Longdogger asks
Once again, getting the info from his ear piece “That is certainly a lot. The electric chair uses 2,000. That’s only 4 times more powerful than our cage.”
“So WCW out did us with the electricity?”
“That chair had a whopping 0 volts.” King didn’t get that one from his ear piece.
“WELL EVERY TIME I COME HOME NOBODY WANTS TO LET ME BE”
The Ultraviolent champion, Bruce Blank, slowly makes his way out of the curtain. Blank has been in matches in toy stores. Even invented his own match, but he’s kept his title through everything. For the first time in a while, Bruce’s ego is in check.
Blank walks down the ramp, undoing the buckle in the back of his Ultraviolent strap and holds it up in the air as he walks.
“Hey, how do you think Akira and Blank are going to react as the cage lowers?” Pete realizes that you can’t really go through the door of an electric cage.
“You know . . . I never really thought about it . . . I suppose they’ll wait patiently for the cage to lower . . . but who knows?”
Blank rolls into the ring, and takes a moment to stare at his title. Then, with a smirk of confidence, he hands Nick Soapdish his title, and turns his attention to the titantron.
“I’M ON MY WAY!”
Debuting his new entrance music (courtesy of The Hives), Akira Kaibatsu makes his way to the ring. Akira stops at the gate; he strokes the top of his head and then shakes up his neck. After a deep breath, Akira finally begins to walk down the Clusterfuck set.
“King, I know you have Blank in this match, as you have for the whole series, but remember this: Akira HAS had a Japanese deathmatch in his career!” Pete knows his wrestlers, it seems. “Remember Toshiaki Taue? Akira and he battles inside an electric cage, just like Blank and The Divine Wind will do now.”
“And it was Taue who won that match, and sent Kaibatsu out of Japan.” King reminds Pete.
Akira saunters down the ramp, taking long glances at all in attendance at the sold out Staples Center. Shaking out his wrists as he approaches the ring, Akira closes his eyes and tries to calm himself down. He’s never been in a feud like this in America.
The cameras switch to Mr. Kobe backstage, watching his client, trainer, and most importantly long time friend, on the monitor, with a sense of pride, win or lose.
Akira rolls into the ring, and begins to hop up and down, as Blank stretches his arms out.
The cage lowers, as Funyon booms the entrances into the microphone from outside the ring.
“Ladies and Gentleman, the following is the 5th and deciding match of the Ultraviolent series! The rules for the match are as follows!” Funyon whips an index card out of his pocket. “Akira Kaibatsu and Bruce Blank will be trapped inside a cage. Said cage has an electric current running through it. If a winner has not been decided after 15 minutes, small power land mines will go off.”
“Small power maybe, but they’re still fucking Landmines” Pete drops his 2 cents, as he’s paid to do.
“Defending his title, from Dirty Tornado Trailer Park in Mobile Alabama . . . weighing in at 295 and standing a mean 6’7 . . . He is the Trailer park Messiah . . .. BRUUUUCE . . . . BLAAAAAAAAAAAANK!”
As Funyon finishes Bruces name, the cage finishes lowering, and the 2 men are officially inside of the cage.
“And the challenger . . . fighting at a lean 195 pounds and standing at an even 6 feet tall . . . By way of Sendai Japan he is the DIVIIIIIIIINEEEEE WIIIIND . . . . AKIRAAAAAAAA KAIIIIIIIBATSUUUUUUUUUUUU!”
Funyon concludes the boxing style intro, and as if in a hurry, the time keeper rings the bell, and Blank and Akira go at it.
Wasting no time, Akira sprints over to Blank, who wasn’t exactly ready to start. Kaibatsu nails the champ with an elbow as he runs, sending him into the corner (not touching the cage mind you. The turnbuckle appears to be safe from electricity.)
Akira throws knife edged chops at Blank, one after another.
After two or three more chants from the crowd, Akira switches over the elbows. Smashing Blank in the side of the head with stiff strikes, eventually leads to Blank overpowering the puroresu, pushing him out of his way, and Blank out of the turnbuckle.
Akira stumbles backwards, but doesn’t quite fall down, while he is definitely unbalanced. Blank takes a quick breath. After all, he was just peppered with strong elbows and chops from a Japanese wrestler. This however was probably not the best idea, as Akira is relentless, and runs back to Bruce, jumping, rolling over his back, taking Bruce’s sunbaked Alabaman arm, and throwing it, sending Bruce flying.
“Oh my god, Bruce is the first one to taste the cage!” Pete knew what the match was about, but didn’t expect it to be so . . . Ultraviolent.
King, reading Petes emotions like Bill Filmaff, “Pete, I don’t think ANYONE knows what we’re in for.”
Akira wants to just stare in awe at the man he just sent 500 volts through, but he knows he can’t do that. Akira drops to the ground where Blank is, and locks on a fujiwara armbar. Blank, feeling the pain in his arm squirms around in a circle, trying to punch Akira off his arm, like a dog chasing its tail.
After a full 360° spin, Akira actually backs up into the cage!
“Oh my god, I don’t know if I can take anymore electricity running through human flesh.” The longdogger secretly squeamish? “It’s almost over right? How long till the land mines explode?”
Looking up at the timer, King answers “13 minutes, 46 seconds”
“Oh my god!”
“43 seconds now”
Both men lie on the ground, recovering from their back wounds. This electricity is clearly top quality (thanks Panda Energy!)
"Do you think this is a result of hydroelectricity?" asks Pete.
"Yeah, because there's water in Los Angeles," sighs King.
Blank is quicker to get up than Akira, after all he’s had more time to recover from his shock. Blank lifts Akira by the mask, punching him in the gut on the way up. Bruce puts Kaibatsu in a front face lock, and wraps Akiras arm over his head. After a heavy lift, Akira lands on his back, completing a vertical suplex. Trying to end it early, he goes for a cover.
“My god, I know this is a death match, but you’d think electrocuting somebody would be enough to finish a match off!” Pete adds.
Blank, seeing Akira still down, makes a fist, and drops down, nailing Kaibatsu in the head. Getting up quickly, Blank runs over to the side rope (the cage is about a half a foot outside the ropes—he’s still able to Irish whip without electrocuting himself) and bounces back, jumping, landing on his ass, finishing a leg drop on Akira.
Picking him up by the mask again, Blank throws a forearm Akiras way. Bruce scoops up Akira, and lifts him in the air, attempting a Gorrilla press. Kaibatsu swipes at one of the hands supporting him in the air, however, and slides down Bruces back. Reaching over his head, Kaibatsu locks in a side headlock, and runs towards the ropes with it. Jumping onto the top rope, nearest the camera, Akira tries a move similar to that of a Stratusfaction. Blank shows his strength though, holding Akira up in the air after he jumped. Blank spins as he falls backwards, hitting a spinning back suplex. Going for a cover.
“Oh, Pete, aren’t you in for a ride. Still 11 minutes to go.”
You can’t see Pete on screen, but you know he’s stroking his hair, waiting for the match to end.
Akira and Blank slowly begin to get up. Blank is once again the quicker of the two. Seeing that Akira is on his way up, Blank runs into the ropes, adjacent to the ones near the announce table. Bruce hits the ropes, runs back, and attempts a clothesline, but Akira, who has gotten up at that point, ducks, and Blank runs through.
Bruce bounces off the other ropes, and on his way back, is greeted with a mean missile dropkick!
Both men get up instantly, followed by Akira running into Blank, and whipping him into the corner. Akira sprints into the temporarily dazed champion and throws an elbow his way. Akira reaches back, looking for a knife edged chop, but Blank sees it coming, and toe kicks Akira right in the gut. Blank traps Kaibatsu under his armpit, and hops backwards, so to sit on the turnbuckle. The Divine Wind wriggles out of the hold, with a series of strikes to the gut with his free hand, leaving Blank on the turnbuckle. Akira takes a step backwards, and then leaps for a dropkick.
“WOAH! What an electricution!” King marvels at the picture perfect dropkick.
The stun from the electrocution causes Blank to lean forward, and ultimately fall off the turnbuckle. Bruce lands face down, but rolls over, and lies around 6 feet from the turnbuckle. Akira wastes no time in climbing the turnbuckle, to attempt his signature flying maneuver.
Kaibatsu leaps to the air, tilting backwards. As he reaches the pinnacle of his jump, the cameras flash, for the Kodak moment that will surely be Akira’s shining American moment. And as Akira lands, the crowd pops bigger than for anything we’ve seen up to this point.
But not for Akira’s beautiful Senton.
“WHAT THE HELL?!” Pete shouts what’s on everyones mind.
Akiras back digs into the stomach of Bruce, and as this happens both men feel the sting of 500 volts running through their back. To quote everyones favorite play by play man, what the hell?!
The SmarkTron plays a replay, in slow motion (as Blank and Akira lay on the floor). This camera angle was lower, much lower than the one shown originally. From this view, you can clearly see, that half a second before Akira makes contact, Bruce grabs hold of the cage, electrocuting himself, so when Akira hits him, he isn’t the only one whos flesh has a burning smell.
“That’s gotta be the smartest thing we’ve ever seen Bruce do!” Pete can finally grasp the art that is hardcore wrestling.
“Well, it’s not like he just aced the SATS. It’s a death match. That’s what Bruce does.”
Akira, who felt the lesser of the hit, is up to his knees after a brief spot where neither man was moving. Blank shows life, but still isn’t up. By the time Akira makes his way to his feet, Blank is on his knees however, and Kaibatsu sees this an opportunity. Akira takes a half step Blanks way, and shoves his left boot right in Bruces eye, sending the champion into the corner, sitting down. Akira fights the pain in his back, and runs towards the ropes adjacent from the ones Blank sits in. Akira hits the ropes, and comes back. Akiras boot and Blanks head once again become familiar. They may not be familiar long though, as Blank may be getting his hair done. That running face wash sent Bruces head into the cage, his hair burning along with it.
“Do you think Blank uses duct tape on his hair, as well?” King cracks at the misfortune of others.
What came next may be the most vile thing to ever hit a wrestling ring. That running face wash to the cage, not only electrocuted Bruce, but it cut him, right in the side of the head. His temple was bleeding, and then was electrocuted. People often say “their blood is boiling” when people are angry. Bruce must have been really fucking angry.
Akira grabs Blank by the hair (the left side of it, anyway) and when he gets up, Akira throws a clubbing forearm to Blanks back. Kaibatsu reaches backwards with his arm, slapping it forward for the knife edged chop. After another chop, Akira turns around, and runs at the ropes. He bounces back, and lifts his arm for a lariat, but in a split second, and only for a split second, Bruce regains focus of himself, and scoops Kaibatsu running back for a power slam!
“Back and forth action!” King breaks in before Pete does, for the call.
“A little tit for tat. Whodathunk in a Deathmatch”
The side of Bruces face lies on the mat, and his bubbling blood leaves a stain, right on the “F” in the Clusterfuck logo.
“Funny how Bruce just can’t seem to win the battle of censorship.”
After a second or two, Bruce is right back up, ready to keep battling, defending his gold. He reaches down at his fallen opponent, picking him up by the mask. Blank blows forearms at Akira. Blood smears over his mask, though it doesn’t belong to Akira, it certainly makes him look hardcore.
Blank continues to blow forearms at Akira, who refuses to fall to the ground. After a 6th straight clubbing strike, Akira lets it all out.
Like an odd Japanese battle cry, Akira throws elbows Blanks way (his ode to puro stylist Danny Williams.) Back and forth, Elbows for Forearms, blow after blow. Akira gets a bit of an upper hand, hitting two in a row . . . three times consecutively . . . 4 unanswered elbows . . . Then Akira makes a full 360° spin before his elbow, completing a powerful discus elbow!
Bruce refuses to go down though. He might have been knocked backwards, but he didn’t go down. Seeing he has room to work with, Blank runs forward at Kaibatsu, raising an arm for a big clothesline, which he successfully hits.
Just like his opponent though, Akira refuses to be knocked down. He’ll allow himself to be knocked backwards, but no more. Both men look at each other, as they hold their hands on their knees catching a breath.
Blank bends down further, to his knees, holding his head now, and not his stomach. The bleeding coming from his head, he tries to stop it. But holding it wont do anything. Akira sees when to take advantage of opportunities, and the young wrestler sees this as one to take, running at the champ, throwing a dropkick at the stomach.
Bruce immediately gives up the game of falling, going right down on his stomach, and it most certainly was not a pretty site, as he coughed up blood, creating a pool of the maroon that he stood for.
It was just now that the announce team, realized that they had been silent for over 2 minutes. “I . . . Well . . . He . . . “ Pete has nothing to say. King starts to mutter something, but decides to leave it alone.
Akira sees this as a good time to make a cover, and who wouldn’t? He hooks both legs, and as he does so, you can see the that blood has been flowing all the way down his body, making his faded jeans a nice purple.
“Oh my god! Not a chance! How . . .” Pete marvels at Blank’s resilliance to keep the title that he’s held for so long. And looking back, Pete sure has done a lot of marveling at this match.
King sits there in silence. At this point in the match . . . nothing anyone can say will sound intelligent. Only an annoyance to the site that this match is to see.
Blank rolled his left shoulder up, as high as he could make it go, to show the entire world that the title still belonged to the Trailer Park Messiah. Unfortunately for our Redneck, his shoulder rolled right into the arms of his opponent, and after grabbing the other arm, Akira had blank doubled over, and butterflied.
Finally calling the action, Pete hollers “Akira’s setting him up! It Came From Sendai!”
“ . . . And it ends in Los Angeles California”
Akira musters up the strength to lift Bruce, and spin halfway, before sitting down, and planting Blank face first on the mat, splattering the blood across the canvas. And the ring looked like just that. Bruce had his own painting show on Public Access, but the only color he used was Crimson.
Bruce is Hardcore champion for a reason though: He’s really fucking Hardcore. It’s not often in SWF we see somebody no-sell a move, but it’s just as seldom to see someones blood physically boil.
Akira shows again he’s a rookie—and without Mr. Kobe outside to guide him. He stares in awe at what seems to be the ruining of One of Akira’s biggest assets, It Came From Sendai. Bruce got up quicker than anytime we’ve seen in this match, and sprints right towards the man that he’s been closer to losing to than anyone before. Bruce rocks him with a forearm that sends him into the turnbuckle. Akira bounces off the corner, sending him right into the hands of Ultraviolent Champion Bruce Blank. Blank stuffs Akira’s head between his legs, lifting him up, so that Kaibatsu sits atop his shoulders. Blank’s blood flies over Akira’s chest, as he’s thrown into the turnbuckle.
“He powerbombed Akira right into the turnbuckle! His back . . . It’s . . .” Pete, for that last 10 minutes seems to be having minor difficulty finishing sentences.
“Well, it was a good showing for Akira . . . he was so close to beating Blank. Almost ending Bruce’s never ending reign.”
Blank wipes the crimson mask out of his face, revealing that there was indeed more than one cut beneath it. He drops to his knees, and makes the nonchalant cover.
“This match will not end.”
“Not unless someone makes it end.”
Blank is not discouraged, he hasn’t been all match, why start now? He lifts Akira by his blood struck mask, and throws forearms at it. He leaves the mask for Akiras olive arm, wrenching it so Akira squeals. He propels himself to the top rope, as Akira screams in pain.
In a sudden turn, Bruce’s bloody head begins to ache, and he peels his arm back to his head, not realizing that he could have used his free arm, instead of the one holding Akiras. Akira seizes this opportunity, grabbing Blank by the head that troubles him, and using the turnbuckle as leverage, he manages to boost Blank up in the air. He drops him down, splitting his back over Akiras padded knee.
“The Divine Backbreaker!”
“I guess that’s gonna do it . . .”
Akira can’t make a real cover. He’s been through too much in this crazy match to have the energy. He sprawls his bloody body over Blanks sprawled bloody body, only making it legal. Not effective.
“ . . . Here it comes”
Bruce rolls his shoulder up like it was the end of the world. And for him, maybe losing the title really is the end of the world.
Akira doesn’t know what to do. He’s tried everything. So he picks up Bruce by the hair, and just starts to brawl. He’s come to realize that all this match is, is a glorified, bloody, electrocution filled brawl. But a brawl for everything. A brawl for the gold. And a brawl for pride.
He throws his entire arsenal of strikes Blanks way. Elbows, and forearms, and knees, and chops, and slaps, and kicks. Whack! Thwop! Chip!
Akira pulls his left hand back, loading the gun that is his arm. He swings it forward, with all his might, but Bruce has just as much might left in him too, it seems. He ducks, and takes a half step forward, getting behind Akira.
Akira turns his body, and all he can see, is Bruce grabbing his head. Before he knew it, he was inverted, in mid air, at the hands of his enemy. He doesn’t stay for long though . . . he’s thrown down, his back hitting the canvas.
“ . . . The Blank Bomb” Pete calls Bruce’s finishing move, in despair. There’s little hope for our hero.
“THE BLANK BOMB!” King finally lets it out. He’s been waiting to call Bruce’s finisher all night.
Bruce makes a cover, hooking both legs.
“After 2 months . . .”
There’s still hope.
A dust like cloud sweeps over the SWF ring, no one inside can be seen, or heard. As the fans pop like chewing gum, the announcers try to call the madness they just saw.
“ . . .”
But there really is nothing to be called. When the dust settles, we can see Akira and Bruce, laying on the canvas, almost dead. The fans wont stop cheering. It’s louder right now than when Kobe scored 81 points. The Staples Center was really the loudest place in the world right then.
Maybe it was so loud we couldn’t hear the announcers. Maybe it was so insane they couldn’t say anything. Maybe it was to special for us to want to.
Akira makes his way to his knees, as does Blank. Akira can’t quite make it up himself though. He needs help, and he finds it in the ropes. Inches away from electrocution, Akiras blood drips to the floor.
Bruce however, needs to support to make his way back up to his feet. He is back up, and sees Akira by the cage like a Hyena staring down pray. He runs faster than we’ve seen him run ever, directed at the back of Akiras head, which we can clearly see. The explosion seems to have burnt Akira’s mask at the back, and is almosy completely split.
Near death by electrocution, Akira, maybe by spider-senses, gets out of the way of Blank’s running attack, causing Blank to run straight into the cage.
Blank almost falls backwards, but Akira catches him. Not with a baseball mit, but with a cravate. 3/4 headlock. He takes his head, and runs towards the turnbuckle. He steps up the 2nd buckle with his left foot, and the top buckle with his right. Flipping backwards, Akira lands on his knees. Blank wasn’t as lucky.
“We . . . That . . .”
“On August 12th, 2004, Akira overshot the Divine Wind. I don’t think it was an accident this time”
The SWF debut, of the Divine Wind ’04.
Making a cover, Akira locks up the series.
Nick Soapdish’s hand lands in Blank’s blood.
A hand print of blood appears as Soapdish slams a second time.
Gold might have been sweet for Akira, if there wasn’t blood in his mouth.
“OH MY GOD HE DID IT!”
“I . . . guess he did.” King is astonished, that this green little prick beat his man.
The cage goes back to the ceiling, and Nick hands Akira his hard earned title. Akira holds it close to his chest, leaving the newest blood stain on the strap.