JHawk

Bruce, I love your character and all, but what in the blue hell are you talking about?

I would ask to be evaluated, but my hotornot score made me cry back in the day.

At least I gave you a week to enjoy your reign. Mostly because if we had the match tomorrow I'd be no-showing and forfeit title defenses suck.

On the subject of Chris Walker, I do remember him working MSG in late-91. A win over the Brawler IIRC.

Eh, not my best work, but in the interest of everybody seeing I didn't drop the title without a fight. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Comet: “As if this incredible pay-per-view event hasn’t been incredible enough so far, take a look as they lower the steel cage. Jay Hawke will be defending the International Championship against Wildchild inside of that very cage in just a matter of moments, and the war between these two wrestlers goes way back.” King: “Exactly. Their battles over the International Championship go back to this past Halloween, but it was last year at From the Fire that these two men first faced off, also inside a steel cage, for the Tag Team and Cruiserweight Championships.” Comet: “And over that past year, despite all the matches between them, nothing’s been settled, especially when it comes to this International Title. Wildchild has had three shots at the championship, yet none of those matches have ended with a decisive winner.” King: “Remember how the latest series started about three months ago. Jay Hawke attacked Wildchild’s left shoulder, claiming he was trying to tap into the potential that Wildchild has never seemed to show outside of the tag team division. And every single one of their International Title matches ended with Jay Hawke walking away with the championship, possibly proving Jay Hawke right. Remember that.” Comet: “Well tonight, Jay Hawke can’t walk out of From the Fire with that title unless he wins the match tonight. This steel cage being erected means nobody can interfere, and nobody can get disqualified.” King: “That’s right. Everything is legal, as Jay Hawke nicely pointed out to Wildchild as Lockdown went off the air last week.” Comet: “Truly a dastardly deed if I’ve ever seen one.” King: “And you’ve sure seen a number of dastardly deeds in your day, haven’t you?” Comet: “I certainly have. And I’ve seen plenty of classic steel cage matches as well, and this could be one of those classics. Let’s not waste anymore time. Let’s go to Funyon for the introductions.” DING DING DING! Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a steel cage match for the SWF International Championship!” “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Funyon: “In this contest, victory can be attained either by pinfall, submission, or by escaping the cage with both feet touching the arena floor!” “Bouncin’ Back” by Mystikal comes over the PA system, bringing the crowd to their feet. Funyon: “Introducing the challenger. He is accompanied to the ring by Melissa Fasaki! From the Bahamas. Weighing in tonight at 214 pounds. Here is … WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILDCHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILD!” “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” The music continues to play, and the lyrics begin. However, Wildchild has a different look on his face. Gone is his normal smile. Gone is the attention he normally gives to the fans. In its place is a look of determination. A look of anger. A look of focus. A look Wildchild only gives to those he really wants to teach a lesson. Comet: “Have you ever seen Wildchild look so intense?” King: “Not since last night in the hotel when Melissa…” Comet: “Don’t you dare finish that statement.” King: “…ordered the wrong dinner from room service. What do you think I meant?” Wildchild enters through the door of his cage and takes his corner, keeping both eyes firmly focused on the entryway. His theme music dies down, and the crowd’s cheers turn into jeers as the opening strains of Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly” begin blaring on the PA. Funyon: “And his opponent…” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Funyon: “Hailing from the Hall of Fame City of Cleveland, Ohio. Weighing in at 215 pounds. He is the reigning and defending SWF International Champion… ‘The Dean of Professional Wrestling’ … JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWKE!” As the lights dim and Jay Hawke emerges into his usual spotlight, the crowd breaks into their usual anti-Hawke chant: “JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” Hawke ignores the chants. In fact, he doesn’t even hear them. He has the same look on his face that Wildchild does. Determination. Anger. Focus. Intensity. This might be the biggest defense of Hawke’s nine month title reign, and every member of the audience can tell that he’s unwilling to make it his last. Comet: “Can you feel it, King? These are two men who are willing to do whatever’s necessary to take that title belt home with them.” King: “I’m actually getting goosebumps, and we’re at least an hour away from the main event.” Jay Hawke walks onto the steps outside the door and removes his robe, then slowly removes the title belt from around his waist. He takes one last gaze at the championship belt, hoping it will be back in his hands before the hour is up, then reluctantly hands it over to referee Scott Ryder, who will be on the floor to determine when one wrestler’s feet hit the concrete. Referee Red Herrington, who will be inside the ring counting pins and checking submissions, calls for Hawke to enter the cage, who does so as Ryder locks it behind him. Comet: “Seconds away from the bell ringing to signal the beginning of the match, as you can hear the crowd buzzing with anticipation.” King: “With the looks on both of these men’s faces right now, I’m surprised they’re actually waiting for the bell to ring to get started.” Comet: “Pinfalls, submissions, or escaping the cage, and you get the impression that Wildchild’s not thinking about leaving the cage.” King: “If he wants to win the title, he’d better be willing to if the opportunity presents itself.” DING DING DING! As the opening bell sounds, both men begin circling around the ring, eyeing each other. After a few seconds, Wildchild slowly begins moving in a few steps, with Hawke backing up ever so slightly in an attempt to keep his distance. Hawke finally stops and says a few words before spitting in the Bahama Bomber’s face. “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Wildchild looks at the mat for a second, then charges, catching the International Champion with an insane flurry of quick, short right hands. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Wasting no time, the challenger backs the champion into the ropes. He whips Hawke into the ropes on the other side of the ring and follows him in, leaping into the air and catching Hawke underneath the chin with a leg lariat. Hawke rolls into the corner and begins to stand, but Wildchild moves in and quickly takes Hawke over with a hiptoss. Again, Hawke is quickly to his feet, only to get taken right back down to the mat with another hiptoss. Comet: “The challenger isn’t giving the champion any chance to catch his breath here! He is doing whatever he possibly can to maintain control of the action!” King: “But if there’s one thing I know about Jay Hawke, it’s that he knows how to come back from seemingly impossible odds!” Jay Hawke quickly makes an attempt to climb the cage, but gets as far as the bottom turnbuckle before Wildchild grabs him by the hair and pulls him right back down to the mat. Wildchild catches Hawke with a couple of forearm smashes into the side of the head, then whips Hawke into the opposite corner. Hawke hits the turnbuckle so hard that he falls down to the mat. Wildchild immediately goes for the cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Hawke immediately rolls to the side of the ring, using the ropes to pull himself to his feet. Wildchild quickly knocks him back down to the mat with a standing dropkick. Hawke gets to his knees and fires at Wildchild with a couple of fists to the midsection that do just enough to slow his challenger down. The Dean makes his way back to his feet, then runs into the ropes, only to get caught coming back in with another leg lariat by the challenger. Wildchild drops into another cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Comet: “A series of near falls by Wildchild in the early going here! He’s going for the quick win!” King: “You’re going to need more than some dropkicks and leg lariats to put Jay Hawke down after nine months of dominating the division!” Wildchild pulls Hawke to his feet and tries to become the first man to use the chain link fence as a weapon, but Hawke puts both hands up to block it and drives an elbow into the midsection to double Wildchild over. He follows it up with an elbow to the back of the head that drops Wildchild to his knees. Hawke drives several more elbows into the back of the head until Wildchild is able to pull himself to his feet, then levels him with a series of hard right hands to the face. Comet: “I think we can forget this one being a technical masterpiece.” King: “Yeah, I have a feeling this is going to look more like Bruce Blank vs. Janus than Tom Flesher vs. anybody.” With Wildchild staggered, Jay Hawke whips the Bahama Bomber into the ropes, taking him down with a dropkick to the left shoulder as he rebounds off the ropes. King: “Pinpoint precision. And now you’re going to see Jay Hawke do what he does best. Work the shoulder until it’s hamburger, then climb the cage. He’ll never catch up with an injured shoulder.” Jay Hawke picks Wildchild up and picks him up, as if to body slam him, but he drops Wildchild’s shoulder onto his knee instead. Hawke then immediately drops down into a chokehold, which Red Herrington asks Hawke to break but can’t really accomplish anything in a no DQ cage match. Comet: “What do you call that?” King: “Taking advantage of the lack of rules.” Hawke finally releases the chokehold and once again pulls Wildchild to his feet. Hawke levels the challenger with a couple of hard right hands, then whips him into the ropes again. The Bahama native’s back hits the cage as he hits the ropes, slowing him down just enough for the Dean to miss a dropkick. Wildchild quickly grabs both of Hawke’s legs, then falls backwards, slingshot ting the champion head first into the cage. Hawke staggers backwards, and Wildchild hooks Hawke into a modified sunset flip: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Comet: “Jay Hawke is the first to hit the cage, but luckily for him he didn’t get busted open by the steel.” King: “Exactly. If you start bleeding in this environment, it makes you weaker a lot faster and makes it virtually impossible to come back!” Wildchild, sitting on his knees, pounds away with a series of right hands on the forehead of Jay Hawke. The champion makes his way to his feet, only to get caught with a handful of forearm smashes and an uppercut that sends saliva, and possibly a tooth, flying. The champ staggers backwards, and Wildchild grabs Hawke by the back of the head and throws him forward, causing Hawke to hit the cage head-first yet again. Hawke falls flat on the mat, and Wildchild again goes for the cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Comet: “Still using the cage as a weapon, still covering at every opportunity, and there’s no escape for Hawke. He has to combat this onslaught to retain the title.” Wildchild bends down to pick Jay Hawke up, but Hawke rakes the eyes to buy himself some time. King: “And again, taking advantage of the lack of rules. Illegal in a normal match, but inside the cage, you can go to the eyes to gain the advantage.” Hawke drives a knee into Wildchild’s midsection, then, trapping Wildchild’s arm in a hammerlock, sends Wildchild into the turnbuckle. The left shoulder smacks against the steel, and Wildchild falls to the mat clutching at the shoulder. Hawke then measures the challenger, using right hands to jab away at the shoulder. King: “Look at the champion, charley horsing the shoulder up with those quick right jabs. This is absolutely brilliant!” Jay Hawke levels Wildchild with a hard forearm smash to the side of the head. An Irish whip sends the challenger hard into the corner. Hawke charges, but Wildchild moves out of the way, and Hawke’s shoulder hits the ringpost hard. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Comet: “How is that for a switch? After a nine month title reign, this time it’s Jay Hawke who misses a charge and hits the ringpost shoulder first!” King: “And that could be one huge turning point in this matchup right here!” Wildchild seizes the opportunity, covering Hawke for the attempted pin: ONE! TWO! T -- kickout. Comet: “Another count of two.” King: “He doesn’t really have Hawke all that hurt yet, but as much as I hate to, I have to say I like this side of Wildchild. Always going for the win wherever he can get the cover.” Wildchild pounds away at Jay Hawke with a series of right hands, and Hawke reaches up, grabs a handful of Wildchild’s black tights to get him off-balance, then grabs him by the hair to pull him completely down to the mat. Hawke then wraps both hands around Wildchild’s throat, trying to choke the life out of him. Comet: “And Hawke goes back to the normally illegal tactics. I wonder if he’s even capable of beating Wildchild without resulting to villainous ways.” King: “Hey, anything goes inside that cage!” Even low blows, which is what Wildchild uses to stop the choking. King: “Hey!” Comet: “You were saying?” King: “Shut up!” Wildchild shakes off the cobwebs, then levels the champion with a series of forearm smashes that back Hawke up against the ropes. Wildchild immediately rebounds off the ropes and charges, leaping into the air for a flying forearm. Hawke ducks out of the way just in time, and Wildchild hits the cage with full force, injuring the right arm this time while knocking the wind out of himself upon hitting the mat. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” King: “And there’s the turning point!” Comet: “Quite possibly! Now Wildchild has had both arms run into steel at some point, not to mention the sheer force he just hit the side of the cage with.” Hawke takes a minute to clear the cobwebs, then walks over to Wildchild, draping a foot over his throat and choking him with it. Comet: “What are you waiting for? He was right near the door and could have won this thing, but he decided to choke his opponent out!” King: “Simple. He doesn’t want any excuses from Wildchild when he retains the title tonight!” Hawke gets a couple of stomps to the left shoulder, then pulls Wildchild to his feet, only to send the Bahama Bomber face first into the chain link cage. Hawke looks like he wants to continue the attack, but instead he flips Wildchild off and turns for the door. Scott Ryder opens the door, and Hawke steps through the ropes, only for Wildchild to make a lunge and grabs hold of Hawke’s ankle. Jay also lunges forward, trying to free himself while crawling toward the floor, but Wildchild has a vicelike grip on the ankle. With the crowd cheering Wildchild on, Hawke begins kicking away at Wildchild’s head, trying unsuccessfully to break free of his grasp. King: “All he needs to do is get free and he’ll retain the title!” Comet: “And Wildchild is doing everything within his power to prevent that very thing from happening!” Wildchild finally grabs Hawke by the tights and pulls him back into the ring. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” However, Hawke kicks Wildchild square in the face as Ryder shuts the cage door. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Hawke follows it up by slamming Wildchild’s head squarely into the canvas. Hawke then makes a move for the corner and begins climbing, trying again to escape the cage. King: “That’s OK, he’ll just go over the top. You know, going over the top is the manly way to leave the cage. The door is for sissies.” Hawke begins putting one foot over the top of the cage, but the man from the Bahamas reaches up and grabs the ankle. Wildchild then climbs up the corner as he pulls Hawke back into the ring until both men are standing precariously on the top rope. Wildchild begins throwing punches as Hawke desperately throws elbows, each man exchanging blows as the crowd begins to root their favorite on. “DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE!” An elbow to the eye knocks Wildchild down to the mat sends Wildchild off the turnbuckle, but he lands on his feet and instinctively pulls Hawke’s tights, exposing just enough bare ass to make the men in the audience cringe. One quick yank sends Hawke crashing to the mat below as the crowd erupts. Comet: “Well, we’ve been saying anything goes in this one, right down to tight pulling.” King: “I’m just thankful we didn’t get a Rick Rude-Jake Roberts moment out of that one, although another couple of inches and we would have.” Wildchild reaches down for his opponent, but is meant with another thumb to the eye. The eye gouge sees Wildchild turning away from Hawke out of instinct, and Hawke immediately locks his opponent into a sleeper hold. King: “Here we go!” Comet: “The champion has this one locked in the center of the ring, and this could be it for Wildchild!” King: “And this will either give Hawke a submission victory, or it will paralyze the challenger enough to simply allow Jay to walk out of the cage for the victory.” Comet: “And even if Hawke slips this into a choke, there is nothing Red Herrington can do about it.” Wildchild falls onto his buttocks, allowing Hawke to lean forward to put more weight on the back of his opponent’s neck. King: “And now he’s making Wildchild carry an additional 215 pounds on the back of his neck. Just ring the bell right now. This is all over right here!” Hawke adds a body scissors to the hold as Wildchild’s arms fall to his side. Herrington asks Wildchild if he’s still in it, and he says he is, but it’s obvious he’s fading. Herrington asks if Wildchild submits again, but there’s no response as Wildchild’s arms go limp to his side. Herrington lifts the arm…. ….and it falls. Comet: “That’s one. If the arm drops two more times, Jay Hawke will retain the championship.” Red Herrington lifts the arm again… ….and it falls. King: “That’s two! Somebody get the champagne ready!” Red Herrington lifts the arm a third time… …. …then lets it go…. ….. …and it stays up. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Comet: “Wildchild is still in this one!” King: “But for how long?” Hawke tries to maintain his grip on the sleeper hold, but Wildchild feeds off the reaction and makes his way to his feet. Wildchild tries to break the hold with elbows to the midsection, but Hawke clamps down on the hold to try and keep control. Possibly out of desperation, Wildchild runs a few steps forward and ducks down. The shift in weight releases Hawke’s grip on the sleeper hold, and the momentum sends Hawke tumbling forward, his head smacking across the cage. Both men are down, and Herrington simply shrugs his shoulders. Comet: “Normally we’d begin the double ten count here, but not in a cage match.” King: “Absolutely not. We continue this match until one of these men walks out of the cage a winner. Although Jay should have let go of the hold and let Wildchild ram himself in the cage.” Both men get to their knees and crawl toward one another before using each other to pull themselves to their feet. Jay Hawke goes for a right hand, but Wildchild blocks it and levels Hawke with one of his own. Another Hawke right hand is blocked and countered by another one from the challenger. Now Hawke is unable to even try to get a shot in as Wildchild unloads with punches, then forearms that stagger the champion back into the corner. “LET’S GO DUB-CEE, LET’S GO! *clap clap* LET’S GO DUB-CEE, LET’S GO! *clap clap* LET’S GO DUB-CEE, LET’S GO! *clap clap* LET’S GO DUB-CEE, LET’S GO! *clap clap*” Jay Hawke takes a wild swing out of instinct, but Wildchild ducks underneath it and ends up behind the champion. He lifts Hawke up and drops him down with an atomic drop, the force of which sends Hawke into the cage yet again. Hawke falls backwards, and Wildchild goes for the cover again: ONE! TWO! THR -- kickout. “YA -- BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Wildchild waits for a moment for Hawke to return to his feet, then he runs to the ropes, quickly leaping, spring boarding onto the top rope, and crashing down on Jay Hawke with a rolling attack. Comet: “Pinball! Pinball by Wildchild, and this could to it right there! The cover!” ONE! TWO! THR -- NO! Jay Hawke gets the left shoulder up! King: “No! Hawke waiting until the last possible second, but kicking out of a classic Wildchild move!” Hawke struggles to pull himself to his feet and Wildchild is right there to once again level Hawke with a series of forearm smashes. Wildchild then whips Hawke into the ropes and leaps on the rebound, flipping Hawke over as he comes in. However, as Wildchild lands on his feet, he’s unaware that Hawke has summoned some uncharacteristic agility and landed on his feet as well. Hawke immediately makes a mad dash to climb out of the cage, and Wildchild is quick to turn around and climb up after him. King: “Did you see that, Comet?” Comet: “Hawke is certainly a better athlete than a lot of people give him credit for considering Hawke doesn’t show a lot of it, but he’s still nowhere near as quick as Wildchild, which has enabled to catch up with the champion at the top of the cage!” With both men straddling the top of the cage, both men exchange right hands. Wildchild levels Hawke with a shot of the forehead that nearly knocks Hawke to the floor, but Wildchild grabs him by the hair to keep him from falling. Comet: “If someone can keep their balance up here while someone else falls to the mat, we’re going to have a winner!” King: “And it looks as though that winner would be Wildchild if this continues at this rate!” Wildchild drops down just a bit, balancing himself on the top rope as he continues to punch away at the champion. Hawke loses his balance but tries to fall backwards, but Wildchild grabs him. Wildchild balances himself better before taking Hawke off the top of the cage with a high impact press slam. “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Comet: “What impact! What incredible impact, and Wildchild is still on the top rope!” King: “It will be easy to get out of the cage from there if he wants it!” The crowd screams for Wildchild to leave the cage, and he starts his climb, only to stop at the top of the cage and turn around. Comet: “Oh no!” King: “What the hell is he doing?” As Hawke makes his way to his feet and turns around, Wildchild leaps off the top of the cage, doing a front flip and leveling the International Champion with a dropkick to the face. “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT!” King: “For once I’m inclined to agree with the crowd. Holy shit!” Comet: “Cover him! Leave the cage! Do something, Wildchild! Don’t let this opportunity go to waste!” Sensing the match is well in hand, Wildchild pulls Jay Hawke to his feet. Wildchild hooks Hawke’s arms and begins to spin around into position for the Wild Ride, but Hawke continues to spin through, unhooks his arm, then drives a knee into the midsection. Then, cradling Wildchild’s left arm, he leaps into the air, driving the Caribbean Cruiser’s arm and shoulder into the mat while hanging on and pulling back. Comet: “Beautiful counter into the Fujiwara armbar, and now Hawke looks to have things in control!” King: “Pull back on that arm! Break it if you need to! But keep him down!” Wildchild uses his free arm to push himself up, then rolls forward to break the hold. He quickly arm drags Jay Hawke down to the mat, then runs into the ropes. He charges, but Hawke catches him, staggers backwards, then falls just enough to drive Wildchild face-first into the steel support of two sections of the cage,. Comet: “Oh my God! Wildchild hit the side of that cage hard!” Wildchild turns toward the camera, and the camera gets a closeup on the face of Wildchild, as well as the blood beginning to pour out of the forehead. Comet: “Oh no!” King: “Oh yes! We talked about it earlier! What happens if the blood begins to pour from one of these men’s heads? Now you’ll see it! Wildchild is about to suffer the consequences of this one!” Sensing the opportunity, Jay Hawke grabs Wildchild by the braids of his hair and drags him over to the cage. Hawke then takes Wildchild and grinds his face into the cage, opening the cut on the forehead up even more. King: “Damn. This is why you never want to give Jay Hawke the opening. One opening is enough to get your career handed to you.” Comet: “And I’d be willing to bet Hawke’s not going to be doing a whole lot of damage to the shoulder. All of his offense is going to be focused right on that open cut.” King: “As it should be.” Hawke drags Wildchild into the center of the ring, then bites his challenger’s forehead. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS! JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” Ignoring the catcalls from the crowd, Hawke locks Wildchild into a front facelock. Comet: “And into this headlock here, although he could be inadvertently doing the challenger a favor by cutting the flow of blood.” King: “No he’s not, and I’ll tell you why. If Wildchild doesn’t pass out to this hold, then once the hold is released, the blood will pump faster to compensate for it, which means it will flow out of his forehead at an alarming rate!” Hawke continues to clamp down on the hold, but Wildchild slowly begins to pill himself to his feet. The Caribbean Cruiser pounds away at Jay Hawke's midsection with a series of weak punches that rally the crowd... "DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE!" ...but Jay Hawke quickly turns it around, dropping his challenger headfirst onto the mat. Wildchild ends up nearly vertical upon contact before slumping into a heap on the canvas. Comet: "Thunderous DDT!" King: "Beautiful! Wildchild is damn near out like a light!" Comet: "Oh God. Look at the ring." Comet is, in actuality, referring to the mat that is now covered in Wildchild's blood, thanks to the flow of crimson liquid coming out of the forehead. An arrogant Hawke simply stomps on the back of his challenger's head, and that wakes the challenger up enough for him to begin to raise off the canvas... ... ...and see the blood-soaked mat. Wildchild instinctively reaches for his forehead and pulls his hand away, seeing the crimson on his face. Then his demeanor changes. If you thought he was mad before, you'd swear there was literally fire in his eyes now. With only adrenaline and fury fueling his desire, Wildchild gets to this feet, daring Hawke to move in. Hawke comes in firing a series of right hands, but Wildchild merely backs up a couple of steps and smiles. Hawke throws another right hand, but Wildchild blocks it and fires back with a series of rights and lefts to the head and face of the champion. Comet: "Amazing! One sight of his own blood, and Wildchild has gone into a frenzy!" King: "It's as though he's channeled every bit of anger he has ever had and is focusing all of it on Jay Hawke! He's still throwing punches!" The punches have driven the Dean of Professional Wrestling into the corner, and the challenger continues firing away until the champion has slumped to the mat, completely out on his feet. Wildchild then grabs Jay Hawke by both feet and pulls him slightly into the ring, before turning his body and falling backwards, slingshotting Hawke face-first into the steel. The champion is unable to even get his hands out to block, and the moment his flesh connects with the steel, blood is already beginning to pour out from the champion's forehead. Comet: "And now it's Jay Hawke busted wide open!!" King: "Somebody get the HIV clinic on the phone! I think we've got two new patients for them before this one is over!" It's Wildchild's turn to open up the cut on the champion's forehead. He pounds away with a series of right hands to the open wound, widening the gash until Hawke's forehead is nearly completely hidden by a mask of crimson. Unsatisfied, Wildchild grabs a hold of the Clevelander's head and pulls him to his feet. Wildchild points to the north side of the ring.... "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!" CLANG! ...and head first into the cage goes the champion. Dub-Cee then points to the east side of the ring... "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!" CLANG! ...and Hawke's head meets steel again. Pointing to the south side.... "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!" CLANG! ....and Hawke is almost completely knocked out. But Wildchild doesn't want to disappoint the fans on the west side of the ring... "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!" CLANG! "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE!" Comet: "Wildchild is a man possessed! He has placed Jay Hawke through all four sides of the cage, and I'm not sure Hawke's ever lost that much blood in his entire career!" King: "We often use the expression that it's like his head is a faucet, but his head's more like a bottomless bucket! I hate to say it, but somebody has to stop the damn match and award Wildchild the title right here!" Wildchild picks Jay Hawke up and drags him to the side of the ring. Wildchild rams Hawke’s face directly into the chain link mesh. Then, holding him there, he begins to grind the champion’s face along the steel, turning the steel from a silver color to a lovely silver and red tint. Comet: “Look at this. I can’t remember the last time I saw this side of Wildchild!” King: “He’s turning the cage into a cheese grater and Jay Hawke’s head into a block of sharp cheddar!” Jay Hawke struggles to reach his feet, pulling the ropes with all his strength. Before he can even right himself, Wildchild is right there to drape a leg over the back of Hawke's head and drive him face-first to the mat. Wildchild immediately goes for the cover and hooks the leg: ONE! TWO! THRENOSOMEHOWHEKICKSOUT! Comet: "Only two!" King: "I don't know where he got that from, but that might have taken all the strength he had left!" Wildchild pulls Jay Hawke's nearly lifeless body back to his feet. Using strength not normally seen in the Bahaman, he lifts Hawke into a vertical suplex and holds him there. Five seconds. .... Ten seconds. ... After nearly fifteen seconds, he finally drops the champion straight down onto the top of his head. Comet: "Brain buster! All the blood Hawke has left flowing down to the open cut on the head! It's over if he wants it right here!" And indeed he does want it, as the cover with the hooked leg implies. ONE! TWO! THRENOHEJUSTBARELYGOTTHEFOOTONTHEBOTTOMROPE! King: "Pure instinct! Hawke's wrestling instinct allowed him to get his foot on the rope and save the title!" Comet: "But how much more can he take?" King: "Not much!" King’s sentiment is probably correct. Which is exactly what Wildchild is thinking when he pulls Jay Hawke back to his feet one more time. He underhooks both of the champion’s arms and spins around, hanging the longest-reigning SWF champion of all-time upside down for a moment as the crowd buzzes with anticipation. Wildchild’s eyes get wide…. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! WILD RIDE! Comet: “The Wild Ride! No way can Jay Hawke kick out of that after all the blood he’s lost over the past few minutes!” Wildchild goes for the cover. Comet: “He’s got him right there!” The crowd counts along with the referee. “ONE!” Comet: “Truly a marvelous title reign coming to an end here!” “TWO!” King: “He didn’t hook the leg!” “THREE! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-- BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Wildchild gets up, raising both arms straight into the air, unaware that Jay Hawke has once again draped his foot along the bottom ring rope. Comet: “Again, the foot just barely goes over the bottom rope before the count of three!” King: “It’s only a matter of time! Jay Hawke wanted to bring out the best of Wildchild, and it looks like he’s going to get his wish and lose the International Title in the process.” Realizing what happened, Wildchild begins arguing with inside official Red Herrington, who holds his hands about two inches apart to show how close he came to making the fatal final three count. Wildchild gives up the argument and drags Hawke to the center of the ring, once again making the cover: ONE! TWO! THRE -- Hawke just barely lifts the right shoulder blade off the canvas. King: “Hawke kicks out, Comet, but I have to admit that if Wildchild would have made the first cover in the center of the ring, he’d be the International Champion right now!” Wildchild once again pulls the champion to his feet and unleashes a barrage of right hands that have Hawke leaning against the ropes just to keep from falling down. Wildchild lets out a tribal yell and runs toward the ropes. Hawke briefly looks behind him as Wildchild rebounds. Wildchild leaves his feet and levels Hawke with a flying forearm to the bloodied and mangled face of the champion, who falls through the ropes… ….through the suddenly open door… …down the ring steps… …away from a lunging Wildchild… … …and onto the floor in a mangled heap. DING DING DING! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Comet: “What?” King: “He didn’t!” Comet: “I…I think he did.” Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this steel cage match … and still![/i SWF International Champion … ‘the Dean of Professional Wrestling’ … JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWKE!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Comet: “How did he pull that off?” King: “I’ll tell you how he pulled that off, Comet! He had enough presence of mind to call for the bell just as Wildchild was running for that flying forearm smash, and the momentum of the forearm sent the champion sprawling to the arena floor for the victory!” Comet: “You call that a victory? Wildchild had it in his grasp! He had Jay Hawke literally beaten into a bloody pulp!” King: “I’ll grant you that! By all rights, Wildchild should be the International Champion right now. But the rules stated you could win by being the first to leave the cage. Hawke was the first to leave the cage, Wildchild wasn’t, so Hawke retains the championship.” EMTs immediately run out to ringside to check on Jay Hawke as technicians raise the cage. Comet: “I don’t even think Hawke’s aware he’s won the match yet.” King: “He might not be. But when he comes to, he can take pride in the fact that he’s still the champion.” Comet: “Wildchild has nothing to be ashamed with here, but Jay Hawke literally escapes this steel cage match with the title in hand. Plenty more great action still to come, so don’t you dare go away!”

Anything prior to the mid-7os is going to be hit or miss as far as whether Vince has it or not, simply because they used to record over the tapes to save money. There's some footage from the 50s and 60s available that's still in pretty good quality, but most teritories didn't bother keeping it. Not to mention what fires and natural disasters have done to some of the film that was kept.

I'm topping out at about 6,000 for the second PPV in a row. I hope it beats WC's match as I think it's pretty good, particularly the second half, but WC's awesome so I dunno.

Maybe if I lose to WC at From the Fire, I'll sneak into the Ultraviolent division just to protect my title reign!

THE MAIN EVENTS SWF World Heavyweight Championship Match El Luchadore Magnifico © vs. Wes Davenport Wow. Got a hunch on Wes, because while Mags is Mags, Muzz is Muzz. Pink-Slip Ladder Match Kevin Coyote vs. Longdogger Pete I kinda hope Pete wins it just because I don't wanna get used to another broadcast team. TABLES, LADDERS, AND CHAIRS - SWF Tag Team Championship Match Landon Maddix © and Max King © vs. The Asian Underground (Akira Kaibatsu © and Michael Cross) vs. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins and Zyon Without the CW title at stake there's no real need for Zyon and Spike to split, and as the most experienced team they've gotta be the favorites. CAGE MATCH - SWF International Championship Jay Hawke © vs. Wildchild No prediction #1 Contendership for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship Amy Stephens vs. Ghost Machine 2.0 Toxx's match wins, but does he want Amy in the title hunt? Ultraviolent Ladder Match Insane Luchadore vs. Wayne Blank IL Death on Ice - SWF Ultraviolent Championship Match Bruce Blank © vs. Renegade Bruce SWF Frost Pre-PPV Show CALVINBALL III Stryke vs. Sean Davis vs. Jimmy the Doom vs. Christian Fury vs. Arch Griffon vs. An Octopus vs. Matt "Hobbes" Myers Jimmy unless he writes an Octopus to win ??? vs. "Big Country" Martin Hunt ???, whoever it may be

5'9". Hell, aside from the age and weight, the character's basically me.

I just want to know what the criteria for each category are. Oh, and 95% of the Japanese anime I've seen is not what I would consider to be children's programming in the first place. Did they count South Park while they were at it?

That's him, as it's his brother playing (and blowing it badly at this point).

I've never hit on you, but.... I'll fuck you with an Atari joystick and then re-enact pong using your vaginal lips as the paddles and my tongue as the ball. That post won't be ignored. No, but it probably should be.

Damn straight that is the worst match ever. Note to TNA don't have Jackie wrestle nothing good comes of it Then you've never seen anything from Detroit's Big Time Wrestling circa 1975. Ugh.

I'm actually working on something on the return of Saturday Night's Main Event right now that should be up in a day or two, but I'm still tweaking a few things.

-MAIN EVENT- -TAG TEAM MATCH- El Luchadore Magnifico © & Jay Hawke © VS Wes Davenport & Wildchild I don't predict my own stuff. -LETHAL LOTTERY- -LUMBERJACK TAG TEAM MATCH- Asian Underground (Akira Kaibatsu © and Michael Cross) (3-0) Vs. Insane Luchadore and Kevin Coyote (3-0) Asian Underground. ULTRA-VIOLENT TITLE MATCH HELL IN A CELL (block 40) Bruce Blank Vs The Crimson Skull Special Guest Referee: Ghost Machine 2.0 No contest when GM2.0 short circuits and sets cell block 40 on fire LETHAL LOTTERY MATCH SHACKLES MATCH SpYon ("Hollywood" Spike Jenkins and Zyon) (3-0) Vs. Jimmy the Doom & Manson (3-0) ManDoom. SWF INTERNATIONAL TITLE CONTENDERSHIP THREE-WAY ELIMINATION Christian Fury Vs Landon Maddix Vs Arch Griffon Griffon makes the most sense from a storyline standpoint, but my guess is the winner loses to the Hawke-WC From the Fire winner. -PRISON BITCH MATCH- Amy Stephens Vs. Matt “Bubba” Myers Stephens OPENING MATCH Stryke Vs. Sean Davis Davis

What about his draftmates Carmelo and Wade? They are two of the best at closing the deal. They've both taken teams singlehandedly to the playoffs. That's all I'm saying, if LeBron is so "great" why can't he do the things necessary to win games and take his team to an 8 seed in the weak Eastern Conference? I think Kobe tried taking game winners early on and failed, but LeBron doesn't seem to WANT to have that pressure on his shoulders, and much like Yao Ming I don't think you can teach him to break his passive style of play because that's who he is. It's not like LeBron's ever going to play with another guy who is the primary scoring option so if he's not going to do it now, when is he going to start? He had five chances to get it done yesterday in the final minute and change and passed it 4 times and avoided the ball a fifth time. There were a bunch of bums relatively speaking wearing Cavs jerseys on the court, and he didn't drive all the way to the hole (where you KNOW he'd get the call anyway) or pull up and take a big shot, he passed it to a guy in a bad position or 20+ feet from the hoop each time, that's not a coincidence to me. Maybe I missed the memo, but the last I knew basketball was still considered a team sport. And as much as I love the Cavs, I'd be stupid to think they've got this incredibly deep lineup to support LeBron.

Not to nitpick, but Hawke/Griffon are 1-1 in the Lethal Lottery, not 0-2. Not that it matters with Manson and Doom already 3-0, but for accuracy's sake.

YouTube seems to be working now, at least for me.

Teams like Taylor/Valentine and Barbarian/Slater are why the US Tag Team Titles were dropped (which I always thought was a stupid move that helped kill a tag team division that was already on life support).

Somebody PM me a day or two before the next one so I can participate.

EDIT 10/17/06: Incorporated Tag Team Stats Smarks Board Name: JHawk Wrestlers Name: "The Dean of Professional Wrestling" Jay Hawke Height: 5'9" Weight: 215 Hometown: Cleveland, OH Age: 30 Face/Heel: Heel Stable: None officially Ring Escort: Weapon(s): lead pipe Quote: "You're going to be taught a wrestling lesson you'll never forget, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it!" Looks: Hawke comes to the ring wearing a Ric Flair-esque purple and black robe. He keeps his light brown hair cut short and usually remains clean-shaven, although he'll grow a goatee on occasion. Once in the ring, he removes his robes, showing a well-built but not too muscular frame. He wears black tights with "Dean" written in purple down both legs and "Class is in session" in purple on his ass. He finishes his ensemble with a pair of black boots with purple soles and laces. Ring Entrance: "Learning to Fly" by Pink Floyd comes on the PA as the lights dim. Ring Announcer: Introducing...from the Hall of Fame City of Cleveland, Ohio, and weighing in at 215 pounds...he is "The Dean of Professional Wrestling"...Jay Hawke! A spotlight shines on Jay Hawke as he makes his way to the ring. As Hawke makes his way onto the ring apron, he takes off his robe, folds it, and hands it to the ring attendant. Then he stands up on the turnbuckle with both arms in the air as the crowd boos. Stats: ¯¯¯¯¯ Strength: 4 Speed: 6 Vitality: 5 Charisma: 5 Style: Jay Hawke relies on technical wrestling but can take to the air if need be. Signature moves: Fujiwara armbar shoulderbreaker short arm scissors Rings of Saturn dragon sleeper blockbuster front facelock into a DDT (NOT a transition move and designed to KO an opponent) surfboard Common moves: belly-to-back superplex chokehold diving headbutt faceslam legdrop swinging neckbreaker sunset flip roundhouse kick camel clutch inverted DDT onto the knee springboard lariat tilt-a-whirl backbreaker leg lariat backflip cradle German suplex STF Rare moves: Burning Hammer diamond dust Finishers: Jay Hawke's primary finisher is a submission hold called the Wing Span. It's a crossface chickenwing with a twist, as Hawke uses his legs to scissor the opponent's other arm. His secondary finisher is a moonsault called the Hawke Swoop, but it's notable because instead of landing with a bodypress, he lands with a kneedrop onto his opponent. This is only to be used in extreme situations where the Wing Span hasn't worked and should not be debuted until a title is on the line. Notes: Jay Hawke is out of an old school cloth where he prefers to wear down a body part to weaken it for the finish. Notice that most of his common moves affect the neck and back, while the signature moves mostly affect the arms. Once he begins to use the signature moves, odds are it's just a matter of time before the Wing Span comes into play. Bio: Jay Hawke began wrestling September 12, 1996, losing to Knightrous in the now-defunct High Octane Wrestling Federation. It was a minor setback, as he would win the HOWF Tag Team Title once and the HOWF National Title twice, retiring the latter title in March 1997. From there, he moved onto the High Impact Wrestling Federation based out of Cleveland. Although he wrestled largely in tag team matches in the HIWF (holding the HIWF Tag Team Title seven times), he holds the record as the longest-reigning HIWF World Champion (five months), as well as multiple reigns as United States and Hardcore Champion. He also had a cup of coffee with the Missouri Wrestling Alliance Cruiserweight Title in 2000. Hawke's career took a setback in 2002 when he retired after suffering his second serious neck injury in as many years. He has spent the last two years training promising wrestlers at the Legion of Pain Compound in Cleveland, but has gotten the itch to return to the ring. Accomplishments since joining the SWF: SWF USJL Champion (5 days) SWF World Tag Team Champion (35 days) SWF International Champion (twice -- 29 days, current since 13th Hour 2005). The current International Title reign is the longest uninterrupted title reign in SWF history, and Hawke loves to rub it in everybody's face. TAG TEAM STATS Team Name: The Predators (w/Nighthawk) Combined Weight: 515 Escort: Falcon Entrance: The arena goes dark, lightning strikes go off at the top of the ramp, and a spotlight follows them as the team comes out to Pink Floyd's "Learning to Fly". Make this as elaborate as need be, as you know these arrogant SOBs are gonna flaunt themselves. Finisher: Crash Landing. Nighthawk holds one opponent up on his shoulders, and Jay Hawke leaps off the top rope, taking the opponent down with a Frankensteiner (rana, huracanrana, call it what you will). NOTE: The Predators have been teaming up for some ten years at this point, so if there's a double team move in existence, they probably know it, and they might know a few that aren't on the books. Remember, they're heels, so cheap tactics and double teaming are not only allowed, they're encouraged.

SWF Lockdown returns to air from the XCEL Energy Center in St. Paul, Minnesota. A few camera swipes around the arena reveal clever homemade signs that the fans created for viewer amusement. A few feature wrestler’s names spelled wrong, some have created in ten seconds using a unevenly cut piece of poster board and Stanford King Size magic marker. “Welcome back to Lockdown, fans!” yells Longdogger Pete. “We’re just about ready to get down to bid’ness in our next lethal lottery contest!” he then yells. A graphic comes up in the screen, featuring the likenesses of newcomer Michael Cross and Landon Maddix. “Later on this evening, in our main event, Michael Cross goes in as the underdog against young veteran Landon Maddix in a steel cage match,” says Pete. “There’s no telling if the cage will of the chain-linked variety, or the of the blue prison-bar variety,” says King. The first graphic sweeps away, and is replaced by a graphic of four gentlemen grouped together. Shown are Arch Griffon, Jay Hawke, Jimmy the Doom, and Manson. “Our next match of the evening features quite an interesting match-up, King,” says Pete. “Arch Griffon hates Jay Hawke. Jay Hawke hates Arch Griffon. Jimmy Doom well, he’ll fight anybody equally hard. Manson is Arch Griffon tag team partner and they were a good duo, but dissipated after they came up short in a TLC match months ago,” explains King. “Furthermore, the irony is that the winner of this tournament gets a shot at the tag team titles in a TLC match. This must make Manson and Griffon think for a second,” says King. “Crusher Destroyer” by Mastodon hits on the PA, and to the jeering, and cheering of the fans, Jimmy the Doom and Manson come out from behind the curtain and quickly make their way down to the ring, followed by Lois the Unethical. On one side of the ramp, Manson throws up the bull horns, which are quickly booed by the Minnesota fans. Then, on the other side of the ramp, Jimmy and Lois do….things, to a great response from the Minnesota fans. Funyon stands in the ring along with the referee for the match, Mack McElroy. Funyon warms up his vocal chords and starts his introduction for the match. “The following Lethal Lottery match is scheduled for one fall, and has a thirty minute time limit….introducing first, with a win loss record of 1-0; at a combined weight of 485 pounds, being accompanied by Lois the Unethical, MAANNSONN and JIMMMMY THE DOOOOOOMMM!” “Not much needs to be said about the teaming of Jimmy and Manson, except for that they both like to fight people, and have won their first match,” says Pete. “The only observation I can make is that Manson seems rather distant out there,” observes King. “He may be a bit lost out there because he is about to take on his former tag team partner Arch Griffon,” says Pete. Jimmy and Manson go about warming up in the ring, not making much eye contact with each other. “Crusher Destroyer” fades away, and the crowd goes quiet. A few moments later, “Bloodlust of the Human Condition” starts to blare inside the XCEL Center, drawing up a mostly negative reaction from the crowd. The lights dimmed, out come both Arch Griffon and Jay Hawke. The hulking Griffon is only half outlined by the spotlight used for Jay Hawke. They walk side by side down the entranceway, until Hawke quickly scurries ahead of Archie to take the lead. The Dean of Professional Wrestling overshadows Griffon’s simple entrance attire with extravagant purple and black robe, and International Title Belt. Funyon continues once again with the introductions. “And their opponents; with a win-loss record of 1-0; at a combined weight of 517 pounds, ARRCHH GRRIFFONN and the SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPION, JAAAYY HHAAWWKKE!” yells Funyon. “Perhaps the most intriguing team of this tournament has to be Arch Griffon and Jay Hawke,” says Pete. “Everyone knows that Arch Griffon is back to challenge Jay Hawke for the International Title,” says King. “And most people would say that Griffon may have the best chance to take it off of him, as he has done it once before,” says Pete. “But who knows when and how Griffon will get that chance,” says King. The four men all stand in the ring and are checked for foreign objects by Mack McElroy. Arch Griffon is clean. Both Manson and Jimmy are clean. When Hawke is felt up by McElroy, the referee pauses, and quickly reaches into the top of Hawke’s right boot. Eureka! One half of a pair of brass knuckles is found in Hawke’s boot, drawing a raucious cheer from the Minnesota crowd. “And for the first time in a long time, a referee confiscates an international object before it used on a wrestler,” says Pete. “Someone, give that man a raise!” yells King sarcastically. Hawke turns around to look to Griffon for support, but Archie does not approve. Arch stands, his hands looked on his hips, as he stares at Hawke with a deadpan expression. “JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” “JAY HAWKE SUCKS!” Jimmy and Manson exchange a nod after laughing at Hawke’s mistake. Doom exits the ring, and leaves the beginning of the match to Manson. Once more, Hawke and Griffon get into an argument about who is going to start the match. Arch nearly charges into the middle of the ring towards Manson, but is held up by Hawke, who grasps Griffon around the waist in protest. Hawke lets Griffon go, and starts to talk with his hands. Arch waves him off and takes his spot in the corner. Both Archie and Doom grab their respective tag team tethers and wait in their spots. McElroy, after giving the weapon to a security guard, signals for the match to begin. *DINGDINGDING!* And with the match officially underway, the two combatants circle each other in the center of the ring. “And this should be a very interesting start with Jay Hawke and Manson,” explains Pete. “These two men have faced each other for the International Championship, most notably in an Old School rules match last year.” “And look at who came out on top in that one,” says King. “Jay Hawke. Much like he will tonight. Can’t be too hard to beat Manson with that…guy…as his partner.” The two men lock up in the center of the ring. Jay Hawke tries in vain to throw his stronger opponent to the mat, but he’s quickly thrown down by Manson instead. Arch Griffon shakes his head in disgust as Jay Hawke gets to his feet and tries it again. Same result, of course. With that, Jay Hawke points to the corner and asks for Jimmy the Doom to be tagged in. “He’s actually asking for Jimmy the Doom to be tagged in?” asks King. “I think he’s been smoking too much of the wacky weed here.” Manson shakes his head, obviously wanting a couple of shots at the Dean of Professional Wrestling again. They lock up collar-and-elbow, and Jay Hawke quickly locks Manson into a side headlock, then spins it around into a hammerlock for the sole reason that he can. Manson goes for an elbow, which is ducked, and Hawke releases the hammerlock as he arrogantly laughs at Manson’s miscue. It’s just too bad that he doessn’t see the other elbow that is attached to the forearm that catches Hawke in the face and knocks him down. “And that’s the problem with being as arrogant as Hawke is,” says Pete. “He got drilled with a forearm smash after avoiding that elbow.” “That’s cheating though,” says an angry King. “You’re not allowed to throw a forearm when it’s unexpected!” “Who the hell made that rule,” yells Pete as Manson refuses to allow Hawke to get to his feet, leveling him with a series of short chops to the back of the neck that would make…um…what’shisname…you know, the Japanese guy…blush with shame. Manson quickly follows it up with a knee lift that sends Hawke sprawling into a corner, then reaches over and tags in Jimmy the Doom. “Just what we need,” King says sarcastically. “Jimmy the freaking Doom wasting all the TV time.” Jay Hawke’s strategy in this situation is simple: Keep it a technical wrestling match for as long as possible. With that in mind, he quickly locks Doomtopia’s favorite son into a side headlock. Doom surprises Hawke by reversing into a side headlock of his own, then… DOOMERFIC! …quickly takes Jay Hawke down with a bulldog. Doom goes a quick cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. A surprised Hawke quickly rolls over to the corner and tags in Arch Griffon, who really doesn’t want in the ring but steps between the ropes nonetheless. Jay Hawke rolls to the apron, telling Arch “watch the bulldog” as Arch shakes his head. Arch then turns toward Jimmy the Doom and sticks his head forward, practically challenging Jimmy to put the headlock on him and try to bulldog him to the mat. Jimmy obliges, but as he leaps for the bulldog, Archie holds him in midair for a few seconds before dropping him backwards with a suplex. Jimmy does convulsions on the mat as Arch stands up, soaking in a mixed but largely positive reaction from the crowd. “Arch with more strength than his partner Jay Hawke,” summarizes Pete, “and that led to him countering the bulldog with a crushing suplex.” “Well, it’s pretty easy to execute a crushing suplex when you weigh over 300 pounds,” replies King as Griffon brings Jimmy the Doom into a seated position and levels him with a hard kick into the back. Jimmy goes into convulsions as Jay Hawke enters the ring waving Griffon off. Hawke: “That’s not how you do it!” Jay Hawke measures Jimmy like a Hollywood director setting up a scene, then levels Jimmy with a harder kick to the back. Griffon: “You call that a kick? Watch this!” Griffon levels Jimmy with an even harder kick, and the Doomtopian tries to make his way to the corner for a tag, unaware that Hawke isn’t done with the lesson. Hawke: “Pathetic. Watch this!” Hawke’s latest effort catches Jimmy right in the spine, and Jimmy can only let out one solitary word, practically squeaking it out: “Mommy.” Griffon quickly places Jimmy back into a seated position, then takes a look at Hawke. Hawke nods, and both men pick a kidney, getting in stereo kicks that are going to have Jimmy the Doom urinating blood for a week. Hawke finally leaves the ring, and Griffon goes for the cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Jimmy still clutches at his back as he gets off the cover, but Arch Griffon is quick to pull Jimmy the Doom to his feet. Griffon whips Jimmy into the ropes and ducks his head for a backdrop. Jimmy stops short and takes Griffon down with a DDT, but doesn’t get the full effect of it. It is enough for Jimmy to crawl over and make a tag to Manson, who slowly enters the ring. “Now here’s the matchup I’ve wanted to see, Pete,” acknowledges King. “These two guys were regular tag team partners not too long ago, and now they have to beat the hell out of each other. I love it.” Pete replies, “I hate to agree with you -- ever -- but you’re right. This is certainly an intriguing situation.” Griffon turns around and stares face-to-face with his former partner. The two men begin discussing something in the middle of the ring, but the microphones aren’t picking it up. “Gotta love some good old-fashioned trash talking,” says King, about a second or two before Manson and Griffon shake hands. King: “What the hell!” Manson tags Jimmy the Doom in as Arch Griffon tags in Jay Hawke. Manson and Arch then leave the ring, leaving Jimmy the Doom and Jay Hawke to stand dumbfounded on the ring apron as King yells, “What the hell is going on?” That is basically Jimmy the Doom’s reaction as well, but Jay Hawke uses “what the hell” in a different context, deciding instead to enter the ring, run across the ring, and glom Jimmy the Doom from behind, causing the Doomtopian to fall hard to the arena floor. “At least Hawke was smart enough to take advantage of this,” says King, “but why would those two men just leave their partners like that?” “Hard to say,” says Pete, “but I’m guessing they’re pretty good friends outside the ring.” “Just like Spike and Zyon, right?” As the broadcasters continue the argument, Jay Hawke has followed Jimmy the Doom to the arena floor, and he stomps away at his opponent’s back. Hawke then picks up Doom, his 6’5” frame making for an awkward body slam on the concrete floor. TWO! Hawke connects with a few more stomps, but Jimmy the Doom begins trying to get back to his feet. As he gets to his hands and knees, Jay Hawke is quick to drop a leg across the back of his neck, sending Jimmy’s face crashing back down to the floor. FOUR! Jay Hawke rolls into the ring, then back out to the floor to break the count. Jimmy the Doom gets back to his knees again, and Jay Hawke levels Jimmy with a kick to the ribs that sprawls Jimmy against the guardrail. ONE! “And here you see the mark of a top competitor in this business,” King tells the TV audience. “He finds a way to get an advantage, and he stays on the attack.” “And he obviously feels the wind was knocked out of Jimmy when he fell to the floor,” observes Pete as Hawke begins to use a shoulder to ram Jimmy’s back into the guardrail. “Each of these moves is focusing on the back and the ribs, which is bound to hurt Jimmy the Doom’s breathing in the later stages of this contest.” FIVE! Again Hawke rolls in and out of the ring to break the count, then drives Jimmy’s back into the ringpost yet again. Thinking Jimmy might be sufficiently hurt, Hawke rolls his lanky opponent into the ring. Hawke gets up onto the ring apron and waits for the Doom to stand up, then springboards off the top rope and colliding with a beautiful lariat that might have decapitated Jimmy if it weren’t for his DOOMOSITY~! Hawke immediately goes for the cover: ONE! TWO! THR -- kickout. Hawke stands up again and waits for Jimmy the Doom to get to his feet, almost waiting for him to get to his feet. Jimmy does so, but he’s quickly back down to the canvas again, thanks to a swinging neck breaker from the Dean of Professional Wrestling. Hawke goes for another cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Hawke decides to slow the pace down and wear his taller opponent down, locking in a chinlock while driving a knee into the back to keep Jimmy on the mat. Pete: “Say what you want about Jimmy the Doom’s unorthodox style, but he’s tough. The lariat alone might have been enough to put most men away, but Jimmy the Doom has survived not only that, but a swinging neck breaker as well.” King: “That might be the case, but it’s only a matter of time before Hawke puts Jimmy away and makes his team the team to beat in this Lethal Lottery tournament.” Hawke picks the pace up again, driving a series of knees into the small of Jimmy’s back. The Dean then bends down to pull Jimmy back to his feet, but… DOOMTACULAR! …Jimmy the Doom pushes up and levels the International Champion with a palm thrust to put some space between him and his opponent. Doom quickly fires with a roundhouse kick that backs Hawke into the corner. Sensing the match is turning for the better, he waits for Hawke to start staggering out of the corner, then he leaps, catching Jay Hawke with a picture-perfect high cross body. ONE! TWO! Kickout. “Can you believe he nearly pinned the champion?” asks Pete, and you know King’s answer, so let’s instead focus on Jimmy picking Jay up and whipping him into the turnbuckle. Jimmy immediately charges into the turnbuckle and leaps up, hooking Hawke by the head and taking him down with a headlock. Pete: “The 73.5267.1094Q80.16!” King: “The WHAT?!?” The broadcasters, like Jay Hawke, don’t notice that the International Champion’s shoulders have indeed fallen to the mat: ONE! TWO! THR -- shoulder up. The broadcasters yet again comment on how close Jimmy the Doom of all people has come to beating the International Champion as Jay Hawke makes his way to his feet. Hawke summons up all the strength he can and pushes Jimmy forward, getting himself out of the corner and sending his opponent chest-first into the corner. Hawke rolls Jimmy up as he staggers backwards, hooking the jean shorts for leverage: ONE! TWO! THR -- kickout. “Hawke tried to steal another one,” says Pete as Jimmy gets to his feet and ducks a Hawke clothesline. “Whatever works,” King replies as Jimmy ducks another Hawke clothesline, then turns around and levels the International Champion with a dropkick. Jimmy goes for the cover: ONE! TWO! Kickout. Jimmy is quickly to his feet, and he’s measuring Jay Hawke, who is slowly getting to his feet. As Hawke stands, Jimmy lifts one foot into the air, raises his arms into the air. DOOMLAMEO! …and actually channels Ralph freaking Macchio to kick Hawke in the face and knock him back down to the canvas. Pete: “Yak Kick!” King: “WHAT?!” And Jimmy once again goes for the cover: ONE! TWO! THR -- kickout. Pete: “And he nearly got him with that!” King: “I don’t believe this! Jimmy the Doom is using some unique offense, and he’s actually come less than half a second away from beating Hawke on more than one occasion!” At this point, Jimmy signals something to the crowd that supposed to say “That’s it” but looks more like a failed attempt at a Michael Flatley impression. He then grabs Jay Hawke by the arm and twists the arm, setting up for the series of combination kicks that could keep Hawke down for the count. However, Hawke rolls forward through the arm wringer, then gets to his knees and sweeps Jimmy legs from underneath him. Jimmy falls, but only for a second, but that one second is enough for Jay Hawke to take Jimmy the Doom down with an inside cradle: ONE! TWO! Jimmy the Doom reverses the cradle: ONE! TWO! THR -- Jay Hawke reverses the cradle, ending up awfully close to the ropes: ONE! TWO! THRE -- Jimmy the Doom reverses the cradle, and both men actually roll over the bottom rope and fall hard to the arena floor. Pete: “Oh no!” King: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before, Pete!” Both men have had the wind knocked out of them, and there’s nothing for referee Mack McElroy to do but start his ten count: ONE! TWO! THREE! “Do not let this end in a draw,” begs King! “Let’s see a winner here!” FIVE! Jimmy the Doom gets to his knees and begins to climb onto the ring apron. SIX! Jimmy the Doom makes his way to the ring apron. SEVEN! Jimmy tries to stand, but Hawke reaches up in desperation and catches Jimmy with a low blow that is unseen by the referee. EIGHT! Jay Hawke climbs onto the ring apron as Jimmy slumps to the floor. NINE! Jay Hawke rolls back into the ring, TEN! DING DING DING! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Pete: “I don’t believe this! Jay Hawke has once again cheated to win!” King: “You call that cheating! He beat Jimmy into the ring! Case closed!” Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of this contest by way of a countout, making their record in the Lethal Lottery 2-0...ARRRRRRRRRCH GRIFFFFFFFON and JAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWKE!” Pete: “Hawke catches Jimmy the Doom with a low blow, somehow the referee doesn’t see it, and Hawke beats the count back in to win the match!” King: “Well, life in Doomtopia might toughen you up, but even Doomtopians are going to feel it if they get caught below the belt. I hope Lois the Unethical isn’t going to too upset that plans have changed tonight.” Pete: “Will you stop?” King: “Stop what?” Pete: “Never mind. Plenty more action still to come here tonight on Lockdown after this commercial break!”

Is that a spoiler? Haven't read the edited card yet.

I think the only time I ever wrote myself to kick out of an opponent's finisher on a non-PPV was the International Title tournament finals vs. Johnny Dangerous. My match lost that night. Think about it.