SJL Crimson for October 8th

October 9, 2002

SJL CRIMSON

OCTOBER 8, 2002

SINGLES MATCH

Wildchild vs. Johnny “The Barracuda” Dangerous

- Well, Wildchild’s in this match so it must be the opener. Which of these two warriors will take the next step forward in the Euro division?

- Match Description: Standard Match

- Word Limit: 3500

- Sent To Suicide King

SPECIAL REFEREE SINGLES MATCH

Leon Sharpe vs. Tim Dillon

Special Referee: Ejiro Fasaki

- Leon and Tim appear to be having some issues. Well, now they can settle them with the completely unbiased aid of the Japanese… guy!

- Match Description: Standard Match, except for the potentially biased Fasaki. Ejiro, you may write a match if you wish.

- Word Limit: 4000

- Send To ErekT2k

SINGLES MATCH

Fugue vs. Logan

- Who is this Logan chap? Well, let’s find out as Fugue rolls out the SJL welcome wagon for him...

- Match Description: Standard match.

- Word Limit: 4500

- Send To realitycheck

EMBARRASSMENT TIME

MVS vs Manson vs Matt Myers

- You like no-showing the main event, do ya? Well, we like it when you do to, but for entirely different reasons. You remember that horrible match on Smackdown a few weeks ago, with Stacy and Terri in that Lingerie Pillowfight match? Guess what?

- Match Description: All 3 opponents must wear women’s lingerie. The only legal move is striking your opponent with a pillow. The pillows will be provided in the ring along with a bed and a large stuffed teddy bear. First pin wins, this is not elimination. Other than that, use your imagination.

- Word Limit: 2000

- Send To TheBostonStrangler

EURO TITLE MATCH

Kamikaze vs. Jack the Ripper

- Where the heck has Kamikaze been? Well, time for him to get back in the swing of things against the always dangerous Ripper. How will the newly stated bad blood of Judge Mental affect this match? If the Ripper makes Kamikaze tap, will he get another title shot?

- Match Description: Standard match.

- Word Limit: 5000

- Send To Longdogger_Pete

PROMO

Jude Mental speaks!

- On the very next show Judge Mental will have his first title defense. Here, he names his opponent and the stipulation he chooses, because we are such nice guys here in CC. Have fun kids!

October 9, 2002

Moments after the opening festivities of loud music, big explosions, screaming fans, and homemade signs begin to simmer the cameras focus in on Crimson’s commentators. The always lovable but not quite amusing Axis, dressed today in a Buckeyes T-shirt and the world-renowned king of Memphis heels, the Suicide King.

“Welcome to another exciting, action packed, adrenaline filled, heart stopping..”

“Oh for crying out loud!” the Suicide King makes his opening growls. “Give it a rest already you swine! Here let me show you how it’s done!” the Suicide King pauses for a moment and clears his throat before lunging into his own version of the introduction to this week’s Crimson.

“..AND WE ARE LIVE FROM THE SOLD OUT NATIONWIDE ARENA IN COLUMBUS, OHIO!!!” the Suicide King begins with the volume cranked to the max! “You are watching me, the Suicide King and this is SJL Crimson!”

“What about me?” Ask Axis, to which he receives the almighty stare of a thousand daggers from the King.

“Oh how could we forget, no matter how hard we try. Seated next to me to do nothing else but second-guess every comment I shall make all night long is the one legged pug, Axis. There! Happy?”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Axis sarcastically replies.

“Damn straight, you couldn’t! Now it looks like we will be kicking tonight off in a match of lame meets lamer, as the Wildchild takes on Johnny Dangerous! This match is destined to stink up the whole damn arena, for sure!”

“I don’t think it will be that bad at all.” Says Axis. “Both wrestlers in this match are quite impressive, and to be honest I’m not quite sure which man will come out the victor as they seem evenly matched. This is going to be good for quality wrestling and picture perfect entertainment.”

”Quality nap time you mean?” Ask the Suicide King. “Somebody find me a pillow.”

Smashing Pumpkin’s “The Everlasting Gaze” begins to flow from the speakers as the Wildchild bounces out from the curtains to a rather healthy crowd reaction. The sudden cheers seem to startle the rookie at first as he takes a step back and surveys the arena. After a moment he cautiously proceeds towards the ring, casually glancing behind him as he does.

“Entering first in this match scheduled for one fall!” Bellows Funyon from inside the ring. “Weighing in at two hundred and seventeen pounds, and hailing from the sunny Bahamas…THE WIIIIIILDCHIIIILD!!”

“You know.” Says Axis. “I could almost see Wildchild coming out to Kokomo, or maybe even Margaritaville.”

“How about the Witchdoctor?” the Suicide King adds in. “I mean look at him in that clown getup! He almost looks like one of them tribal morons with no brain. You know them fire dancing, spear trotting aborigines. And what’s this? No shoes?” The Suicide King almost frustrates himself looking at Wildchild. “I hope someone chair shots his foot, see how many more time’s he tries to wrestle like that!”

The Wildchild’s music comes to a close as a female voice echoes out “Johnny Dangerous!” The crowds let out a huge cheer as the theme to “James Bond” begins to flow from the speakers and Johnny Dangerous jumps out with smiling from one side of his head to the other. Johnny jogs down to the ring, stopping only for a moment when a foxy vixen catches his eye, before finally making it all the way to the ring.

“And his opponent! Weighing in at two hundred and five pounds, from Las Vegas, Nevada…JOHNNNNNNNNNY DANGEROUS!!”

“What a total Chode.” Says the Suicide King. “Week after week this ass comes down dressed in a suit. You would think that after the beating Leon Sharpe handed him, a change in attire might have been in order.”

“Is this what I can expect all night? Bad mouthing every guy who walks through those curtains?” Ask Axis, a little perturbed at all of the Suicide King’s remarks.

“Well stop sending those kind of goof balls through those curtains than!” The Suicide King gives a sly smirk, knowing he got the last laugh this time. “Any who it seems that Johnny Dangerous and Wildchild are going to waste some time still sucking up to the crowds from those turnbuckles so….”

The Suicide King reaches underneath the table and whips out a familiar looking rectangle box. “SJL Crimson is brought to you in part tonight by Frost Brand Tacos, the best treat you could ever eat!” He closes his mini-commercial with a smile, then tosses the box of tacos behind him, where hundreds of hungry hands try to reach out and grab them.

“Was that really necessary?” Ask Axis.

“You’re just mad because there’s no Ask Ketchum Bubble Gum for you to solicit.”

Inside the ring both competitors are ready to rumble and Referee, Anthony Michael Hall signals for the bell to begin this match!

DING! DING! DING!

“..And this one is underway!”

Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous kick off the match circling around each other for a moment, teasing a tie up. Johnny lunges forward and locks in Wildchild, but the Islander quickly breaks the hold striking his foot into Johnny’s midsection. The quick blow catches Johnny completely off guard and the Wildchild makes a quick sprint for the ropes, returning with a sharp clothesline on Johnny! No sooner than Johnny hits the mat is he back onto his feet while the Wildchild is already on his way back from springing off the opposite ropes. Wildchild swings his arm out for another clothesline attempt, but is blocked by Johnny who quickly wraps his arm around the Wildchild’s and one hip toss later, Wildchild is flat on his back! Before the Wildchild can bounce back to his feet Johnny drops a swift elbow into his sternum, keeping him grounded to the mat for a few seconds more!

“And these two are starting this match off in overdrive!” Says Axis. “I’m not sure I’ve seen anything move this fast in a while!”

“Oh don’t start creaming in your pants over these two’s ballerina antics.” Says the Suicide King as he shakes his head in pitty.

Johnny grabs Wildchild’s arm and yanks him to his feet, throwing a quick jab to his face just to keep him subdued before whipping him toward the ropes. Wildchild springs back and Johnny drops to the mat, letting Wildchild float right over him and proceed to the opposite ropes. Johnny jumps back to his feet and rears his arm back ready to chop it across Wildchild’s neck but he turns out to be just a fraction of a second too slow! Wildchild jumps into the air and plants both feet into Johnny's chest while hooking his hands around the back of the Spy’s head and monkey flips him onto the mat!

“Free Fall by the Wildchild!” Shouts Axis, letting the mass viewers at home know the name of the Wildchild’s slick counter. Inside the ring Wildchild drops down onto Johnny for a quick pin attempt.

One!!

Two!!

“Shoulder up just after two!” Says Axis. “I think it’s going to take a bit more to keep Johnny Dangerous down for the three.”

“I’d just distract him with a cheap whore and roll him up with a school boy.” Adds the Suicide King.

“Cheap whore? That sounds like something you would go for.”

“I would suggest you bite that sassy tongue of yours, Axis. Besides I never have whores, they pay me. And by the truckloads I might add.”

“So than you’re a cheap whore, King?”

“Keep it up, Aussie. I’ll have you running around here like Stephen Hawkings.”

Back to the real action at hand Wildchild pulls Johnny to his feet and slings him toward the turnbuckle, where Johnny crashes into it with a sickening thud! Johnny stumbles out of the turnbuckle as Wildchild springboards himself off the second rope and plants a dropkick square into Johnny’s chest! *WHAM!* The crowd lets out a cheer of approval for the Islander who stops for a moment to bask in their glory, throwing his arm out to them for a moment before returning to the fallen Johnny.

“It looks like this Wild-Clown is trying to steal whatever heat Johnny Dangerous here has right under his feet!” Says the Suicide King with an insightful remark at least.

“Wildchild is just trying to make a good impression here.” Adds Axis. “He’s doing pretty good so far against Johnny Dangerous, and a win just may lead him towards the top of this division.”

Johnny lets out a small grunt from the small tingling sensation of pain rippling from his chest as Wildchild pulls him to his feet. Not one to let pain interfere, Johnny thrust his fist into Wildchild’s gut, who responds with an elbow across the back of Johnny’s head! WHAM! Still Johnny persist with another punch while trying to claw his way back to his feet, followed by another!

“Johnny’s trying to fight back and keep himself in this match!” Says Axis as Johnny delivers punch after punch while getting to his feet! With Wildchild a bit hazy from all the blows Johnny lunges into the air with a spinning heel kick aimed for his head! Wildchild can literally feel the wind rushing over the top of his head as he quickly ducks down to avoid the attack and sweeps Johnny’s feet right as he lands! Johnny winces in pain again when his already sore back slams into the mat and Wildchild makes for another cover!

One!!

Two!! No! Johnny thrust his shoulder up just when the Referee hits the count of two!

“Almost another near fall.”

“What a sad occasion it would be for this snob Johnny Dangerous to loose to the Bahaman Luchadore.”

“Sad? It’s not like he would be losing to Jack the Ripper, I mean come on is the Wildchild really that bad?” Ask Axis.

“What’s wrong with losing to Jack? Jack’s a hot commodity right now!”

Johnny is pulled to his feet once again, only this time Wildchild lifts him by his chin giving him an open target for placement of his fist! The blow jars Johnny’s head and he can almost feel his brain sloshing around inside his skull, then suddenly Johnny fires back catching Wildchild completely off guard with a stiff right hook to his temple! WHAM! Johnny rears back and soars another fist into Wildchild! WHAM! The blow knocks him back a step and Johnny fires off once again!

WHAM! The crowds begin to finally cheer as Johnny tries to fight back once more!

“Johnny’s starting to gain some leverage again!” Shout’s Axis!

AND AGAIN!

WHAM! The crowds grow louder!

AND AGAIN!

WHAM! Completely behind Johnny the crowds stand at their feet cheering wildly for their mysterious hero!

With each blow knocking Wildchild back a step or two, Johnny finally back’s him all the way into the ropes! Johnny grabs onto Wildchild’s arm and whips him to the opposite ropes, and Wildchild bounces back like an out of control pinball (A barefoot one, that is.) headed towards the ever-impending flipper that is Johnny Dangerous! Johnny latches onto Wildchilds midsection and lifts him into the air and down onto his knee with a tilt a whirl back breaker! WHAM!! Wildchild rockets off of Johnny’s knee and crashes down into the mat with a vicious thud!

“What a come back Johnny Dangerous has just made!” Shout’s Axis! “He finally realized that he needed to keep grounded to that mat, and this may of paid off!”

“Well let’s just take it to the Referee to see if this one can finally end or not!” Says the Suicide King.

One!!

Two!!

“DAMN!” Shout’s the Suicide King as he slams his fist on the commentators table almost breaking the weakly constructed object in half! “Shoulder up just after two! This match will never end!”

“Hey now, King! Wildchild here has some fighting spirit inside him! You have to give him some recognition instead of just cheering for whoever will get the next pin fall.”

“I don’t have to do a damn thing except admit that this match stinks! You might as well let two skunks run around in there because that’s about all that’s happening! STINK! STINK! STINK!”

Back inside the ring the two sku..err WARRIORS prepare for another engagement as Johnny pulls Wildchild to his bare feet, and sinks the toe of his shoe into Wildchild’s gut! “OOF!” He musters out as he doubles over from the blow, and Johnny spins him around to place him in a front face lock!

“What! Johnny’s going to try and put Wildchild out for good!” Axis says with a bit of surprise detected in his voice. “Simply Dangerous coming up!”

Johnny pulls back on Wildchild’s head and raises his arm out to the crowds who fire back a decent cheer as he prepares to drop his elbow into Wildchild’s chest! With the will to fight still running vibrantly through him, Wildchild tries anything he can to keep himself in the game and sails his foot high into the air and right into Johnny’s head!

CRACK!

“Oh my God!” Shouts Axis! “I’m not sure what Wildchild was aiming for with that one, but it sure hit the spot!”

“Was it the smell of his foot that knocked Johnny back, or did he actually connect?” Ask the Suicide King with a shit eating grin slapped across his face. Axis just beams towards the Suicide King not even giving him the benefit of a response.

The action seems to have finally halted for a moment as Johnny is slumped into the ropes, reeling from the blow he just took while Wildchild is laying in the ring still some what stunned still from their previous engagements. The paint on Wildchild’s face half washed away from all the sweat, the gel in Johnny’s hair liquefied and running down his face, and both men breathing hard. “Now look at this.” Says the Suicide King. “These two try and go so fast from the start of this match that they are already completely worn out already! This is a sad, sad situation! They will never make the main event like this!”

“No way, these two are resilient!” Rebuts Axis. “They can take a tremendous beating and come back thirsty for more!”

Finally Wildchild pulls himself to his feet, and Johnny pulls himself out of the ropes. Once more the two come together ready for more as the crowds light up with cheers! Wildchild strikes first slamming his fist as hard as he can muster into Johnny, who answers the call with a punch of equal proportions! The two continue to trade blows for nearly thirty seconds until Johnny gets the upper hand once more, and rains down with a right hook followed by a left! Johnny grabs onto Wildchilds arm and whips him towards the turnbuckle, sprinting close behind to follow through with some kind of yet to be seen punch or clothesline. Inches before slamming into the turnbuckle Wildchild leaps to the top and instantly hurdles back off of it, leading with his foot! Quickly Johnny himself jumps into the air and plant’s both of his crocodile skinned dress shoes into Wildchild’s chest, knocking him out of the air like he were a deadly cruise missile!

WHAM!!

“Wow! Johnny Dangerous just cut Wildchild completely off in mid air there with that drop kick!” Says Axis!

Johnny springs back to his feet with a seemingly new found adrenaline rush, ready to conquer the world! Johnny creeps in behind Wildchild who is fumbling to reach out for the ropes and once again the crowds sense something spectacular and rises to meet the occasion as Johnny motions for Wildchild to stand up!

“What the hell are these people cheering about now?” Growls the Suicide King. “Johnny Dangerous is just standing there flailing his arms like an idiot!”

Using the ropes as his guide, the Wildchild begins to pull himself to his feet. Still in a bit of a daze the sudden rush of cheers from the crowd go unnoticed to him as Johnny Dangerous crouches down, waiting for the Wildchild to turn around.

“Johnny’s going to try and set up a finisher here!” Shouts Axis. “Whatever you do, don’t turn around, Wildchild!”

“Oh contraire!” the Suicide King adds with a obvious sarcastic tone in his voice. “Please turn around, so we can finally have an end to this snooze-fest of a wrestling match.”

Wildchild finally becomes aware after his short dizzy spell fades and wondering what all the crowd fuss is about turns around to meet his doom as Johnny greets him with a swift Super Kick to the jaw!

CRACK!

The last thing Wildchild feels before his conscious fades for a moment is his body grabbing some air before viciously slamming into the mat back first with a tremendous thud!

WHAM!!

“OH MY GOD!” Shouts Axis, like someone who just witnessed a ten-car pileup on a one-lane freeway! “Johnny Kick to Wildchild! You know what’s coming up next! I can hardly contain myself!”

“Please say it ain’t so.” Says the Suicide King who looks as if he could shed a tear at any moment. “I don’t think I could bare to watch anything this stupid again.”

The crowds jump to their feet with a sudden rush of excitement, and cheering louder than they have all night long (Which isn’t too long as this is the first match of the night, after all.) as Johnny stands over the out of order Wildchild straightening his tie. Johnny hesitates for a moment but not wanting to let this audience down makes a mad break for the far ropes and launches off of them like he were powered by jet fuel! Johnny rushes in towards Wildchild, flipping himself in the air before coming down with A FIST DROP INTO WILDCHILD’S STERNUM!!

WHHAAAMM!!

“ARMED AND DANGEROUS!!” Screams Axis like some schoolgirl on the kick ball field as the crowds let out a marvelous cheer for the move! “This one is over!” Johnny takes a quick moment to pat the few out of place hairs on his head back into position than, drops down for a cover.

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREE!!!

DING! DING! DING!

Anthony Michael Hall raises Johnny’s arm in victory as the theme to “James Bond” kicks in and Funyon grabs a microphone to make the obvious announcement. “And your winner! JOHNNNNNNNY DANGEROUUUUUSSS!!”

“What an incredible match up this was!” Says Axis. “For a moment I wasn’t sure who was going to end up getting one over the other as these two just constantly traded back and forth!”

“I’m just glad this one is over, now we can finally get on to watching Leon Sharpe pound that drunk leprechaun Tim Dillon.”

“Wait what’s this?” Ask Axis as he looks on towards the ring where the Wildchild is starting to come back to his senses. Johnny Dangerous spots the movement and makes headway for Wildchild. “Oh no! First Leon Sharpe, now Johnny Dangerous! Don’t do it, Johnny!”

“What?” A surprised Suicide King ask as he stands from his seat hoping to finally see some sort of carnage. “Oh please do! Join the Dark Side Johnny! Give Wildchild the warm welcome to the SJL that he so desperately deserves!”

Wildchild looks up towards the hovering Johnny, holding his bruised jaw not sure of what to expect next. The crowds look on with a hushed anticipation as Johnny finally reaches out……

…Towards Wildchild…..

….and extends his hand? The crowds let out another cheer as Wildchild accepts the hand and Johnny helps him to his feet. Johnny lets out his trademark smile as he shakes Wildchild’s hand, thanking him for a wondrous match.

“Damn I should of known better.” Says the Suicide King as he sits back down let down by the results.

Johnny raises Wildchild’s arm with his own, grabbing one more cheap pop from the audience before making his exit from the ring.

“Well finally a contest that doesn’t end with bitter chair shots or vowed revenge.” Says Axis. “We will be back for more thrills right after a word from our sponsors!”

::SJL Crimson cuts to a Tom Flesher Doc Martins commercial::

October 9, 2002

"(Axis) Welcome back to Crimson, f00ls. If you're just joining us, it appears that Manson is... Lost in Cleveland!"

"(Suicide King) Except for the fact that we're in Columbus, so Manson is Lost in Columbus. Joy."

"(Axis) That we are, let's go to Ben Hardy for the latest word."

"(Hardy) Hello, I'm Ben Hardy, and I'm a colossal tool. I'm backstage here, and we're moments away from the *ahem* biggest match of the night, a Lingerie Pillow Fight, featuring Manson, Matt Myers and Mike Van Siclen. However, Manson has NOT been seen all night, and sources say that he is refusing to fight in this match. Your ace reporter, is on the case."

Hardy begins walking along various paths backstage, with the ever-constant dumbfounded look on his face, and he passes by various SJL names before emerging near the wrestler's entrance.

"(Hardy) Dun dun dun. Oh where, oh wherrre, is MANSON... Wait a tick, it's ex-wrestler Cutthroat! I don't know why he's still hanging around, but perhaps he knows where Manson is hiding."

"(Cutthroat) The electric yellow has got me by the brain banana..."

"(Hardy) I see."

"(Axis) Security really should be keeping the riff-raff out."

"(Suicide King) Ugh, Cutthroat. Yeah, I think he's a guest of Bobby Riley, for one reason or another."

Ben Hardy spots a security guard manning the garage entrance to the arena, and he approaches.

"(Hardy) I'm Ben Hardy, of the SWF. Have you seen one of our wrestlers come through here, by the name of Manson?"

"(Guard) Yeah, he just headed out this door."

Hardy, upon hearing this news, bolts through the door and spots a figure in a long black trenchcoat with a duffel bag over his shoulder, walking through the garage lot. Hardy jogs over and screams out, hoping it's the person he's been looking for.

"(Hardy) MANSON!"

The darkened figure stops in his tracks, and turns his head back around towards the arena entrance, empty eyes fixed on Ben Hardy. Hardy catches his breath after running after Manson, and pulls a microphone up between the both of them.

"(Hardy) Manson, you have a match here very soon, where're you going?!"

"(Manson) I was hoping to get out of here before one of the fed's lackeys would track me, but I suppose I should give an explanation. Basically, I'm tired of being pushed around by the head office. This newly assigned boss thinks he can place me into demeaning matches, play with my career, and take away my rights; but he never counted on me walking out on the match, and the glory of it all, is that he can't do anything about it. Matt Myers and Van Siclen can stay here and embarass themselves if they want to, that's their prerogative, they're even used to it by now... But I will not let it happen to me."

"(Hardy) You'll be probably be punished, you know."

"(Manson) Only problem with that is, I stopped giving a damn a very long time ago, and a slap on the wrist pales in comparison to what I've experienced in my lifetime. Whatever punishment the new boss wants to hand down to me, it won't break me, and in fact, I dare him... Now, I'm done here Ben, leave me be."

"(Hardy) Well, there you have it, I guess. Axis, King, back to you."

"(Axis) He's taking his ball and going home, by gawd."

"(Suicide King) John Wayne never would have done that."

"(Axis) Yes, we'll be back in a moment with more Crimson."

October 9, 2002

“Welcome back to SJL Metal where we have already seen an incredible battle between two of the crowd’s favorites "The Barracuda" Johnny Dangerous and The Wildchild,” Axis yells, “But this next match is going to be quite a bit different. This event will see “The Fighting Irish” Tim Dillon take on the now maniacal Leon Sharpe.”

“Maniacal? Maniacal? More like focused if you ask me!” responds King, “Ever since losing the European Title, Leon Sharpe has been on the literal path of rage against those four men that cost him the title. He’s already put down Dangerous, and now he’s after Dillon. Ejiro Fasaki and Kamikaze better be looking over their shoulders all day, everyday.”

“Actually, right now, Sharpe should be the one watching out. Sharpe is not only stepping into the ring with Dillon, who is a heck of a competitor, he also got to contend with another one of the men he’s sworn vengeance against, Ejiro Fasaki. In an odd turn of events, Fasaki has been assigned the task of being the special guest referee here tonight."

“Don’t get me started on that, Axis. This new mysterious commissioner of ours isn’t even out of the gate, and he’s already making horrible decisions like this? There’s no way Fasaki is going to be a objective, impartial referee."

"Because Sharpe keeps threatening to murder him all the time?”

"No, because we all know Fasaki is little and Japanese, and that means he's shifty."

“Oh, well there's a great point," Axis says as he rolls his eyes, "On the other hand, Fasaki has been stalwart in his approach to wrestling as being a honest, strait forward competition. So we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens. Thankfully, we won't have to wait long. So, without further ado, let’s go to Funyon for our introductions…”

Funyon pulls the microphone to his mouth as “Sellout” by Biohazard shoots out via the sound system of the Nationwide Arena. “Introducing first, the special guest referee for this match, EEEEEEEJIRO FASAKIIIIIIIIIIIII!” Receiving a resounding ovation, Fasaki steps out from behind the curtain. Wearing the referee’s striped shirt and a pair of black jeans, Fasaki slaps hands with a number of his fans before sliding into the ring. Walking over to the ropes, Ejiro climbs up to the middle rope and raises his arm to the assembled throng. Taking a position in the middle of the ring, Fasaki stands there impassively, awaiting the introduction of the participants.

“Introducing, coming down the aisle…”

Leon Sharpe walks out from the back as Rob Zombie’s “Dragula” blasts from the outer reaches of the arena. Wearing his new heel gear of a white singlet with short tights, Sharpe glares out at Fasaki. As boos from the assembled mass of humanity fall down upon him, Leon ignores all the noise before stepping over the top rope with a scowl on his face. Staring a hole in Fasaki, Sharpe goes to his corner, seething just underneath the surface. Leon stands there thinking about what four men cost him at The Countdown to Genesis, the thing that meant the most in the life of Leon Sharpe, The SJL European Title.

“He comes to us from The Motor City, Detroit, Michigan. He stands six foot, ten inches tall. He weighs 305 pounds. He is a former SJL European champion. He is…. LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEON SHARPE!”

The mood of the crowd changes quickly from disgust to pleasure as “Barroom Hero” by Dropkick Murphy starts to come in from the outer reaches of the arena. The response is due to the fact that it ushers in the entrance of one Tim Dillon. As plastic shamrocks fall from the sky and pyrotechnics shoot into the air, out comes the bare-knuckle brawler from Ireland to a rousing round of applause. Throwing punches to the air, Tim makes his way down to ringside dressed in his characteristic khaki pants and "End the Fight" T-shirt. Taking a lap around the ring, Tim extends his hands to his adoring fans as Funyon yells into his microphone...

“And his opponent, weighing in at a slim, trim, muscled, tussled, ripped and JAAAAACKED 168 pounds. Hailing from Limerick, Ireland. This is TIMMMMMMMM DILLONNNNN!”

Stepping through the ropes, Dillon’s eyes never leave those of his opponent. Thinking back to the viscous assault Sharpe perpetrated at Metal, Dillon’s mind is totally focused on Leon’s ultimate show of disrespect, when Sharpe spat on him. But Tim’s focus is momentarily diverted when referee Ejiro Fasaki moves him back to a corner for the pre match inspection. With a questioning look on his face, Dillon assents to Fasaki’s commands and allows the referee to check him over for foreign objects. Padding Dillon’s cargo pants down and checking to make sure his shoes are regulation, Fasaki steps back and gives his nod of approval before moving over to Sharpe. Quickly going over Sharpe in the same manner, Fasaki is about to step back to the center of the ring when Leon reaches out and grabs the referee by the wrist. Holding onto Ejiro tightly, Leon refuses to allow Ejiro his freedom. Shouting loud enough for the camera’s to hear, Sharpe exclaims, “Once I’m done with him (pointing to Dillon) its your turn. Get the point?” Ejiro gives a little grin and retorts, pointing a thumb in Dillon's direction, "When he's done with you, there might not be anything left for me." Pulling himself free, Ejiro moves away from Sharpe.

“Oh there’s a brilliant move,” says a sarcastic Axis, “Get the referee mad at you before the match even starts.”

“He’s just getting into Ejiro’s head,” counters The Suicide King, “Now, Fasaki will be too scared to do anything to stop Sharpe’s assault on Dillon. It's inspired thinking I tell you.”

Stepping to the middle of the ring, Fasaki looks at both men quickly before signaling to the timekeeper to ring the bell. As the shrill beat hits the air, Dillon begins to clap his hands and stomp his feet, causing the fans to start up a rousing chant of "Oi! Oi! Oi!" Incensed by the chant of support for Dillon, Sharpe charges forward like a bull at a red cape. Deftly dodging underneath Sharpe's clumsy charge, Dillon pops up with a right hand that sends Sharpe a step back to the turnbuckle. Pressing his advantage, Dillon punches Sharpe hard in the ribs with a series of rights and lefts. Swinging wildly, Sharpe tries to counterpunch but Dillon weaves underneath and continues to pound into Sharpe's ribcage with concrete-like blows. Driving the 6'10'' monster back into the corner, Dillon climbs up to the middle rope and lays in a series of right hands into Sharpe's face.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

SEVEN!

EIGHT!

NINE!

But when Dillon pauses before driving in a tenth fist, he's suddenly pulled down to the mat from behind. Fasaki, who had been counting since Dillon had climbed the ropes has reached his five count and physically pulls Tim away to force the break. Dillon looks at Ejiro with puzzlement on his face for just a moment before he gets cold cocked from behind by a Leon Sharpe clothesline.

"What is Fasaki doing in there? He's just given Sharpe an unfair advantage!"

"He's just enforcing the rules, Axis. That's what a referee does. Dillon was illegally pounding on Leon in the corner and Ejiro forced the break. It looks like Dillon forgot the most important rule in wrestling: protect yourself at all times."

With his opponent on the mat, Sharpe proceeds to lay in a series of stomps to the head and chest area. Pulling Tim up by the hair, Leon easily hauls him up on his shoulder like a sack full of muffins. Looking to drop Dillon’s face on the top turnbuckle, Sharpe surges forward. But Dillon cleverly shifts his weight and falls behind Leon, shoving him forward and into the turnbuckles chest first. Turning in pain, Sharpe holds his chest as Tim surges forward and smashes into his opponent's sternum with a running dropkick. With all the air driven from his lungs, Sharpe falls down to one knee. Pulling Sharpe back up to his feet, Dillon slams his fist into Sharpe’s ribs like a jackhammer, smashing into Sharpe’s undercarriage again and again. Taking Leon by the arm, Tim tries to whip him across the ring. But the big man holds his ground and instead manhandles Dillon into the corner using his impressive power advantage. Now it's Leon’s chance to throw some lumber into Tim’s exposed face with great vim and vigor again and again. With Dillon staggered, Sharpe Irish whips him across the ring and quickly follows him in with a running boot to the face! Dillon’s head snaps back like whip as the back of his head meets the hard turnbuckle. Falling forward like a piece of plywood, Dillon collapses to the canvas as Sharpe looks on with glee. Taking the initiative, Sharpe dives on top of Dillon and grabs a fistful of throat as he chokes away on the fallen Irishman. Dillon kicks away desperately, but is unable to escape the vice grip of the 305 pound monster. Fasaki calmly counts away, but when he reaches four; Sharpe breaks the choke only to go right back to it with a vengeance. Fasaki pauses and starts his count again from the beginning.

“Where’s that physical break now, Fasaki?” admonishes Axis.

“Hey Ejiro is just doing his job. Sharpe has a five count to break, he did. What do you want? Boy, I just have to say that Fasaki’s a much better referee than I ever thought he’d be."

With his hand again locked on Dillon’s throat, Sharpe picks Dillon strait off the canvas using only Tim's neck to do it. Lining up his shot, Leon sweeps forward with a clothesline from deep right center field. But the speedy Dillon ducks underneath easily and hits the ropes. Leon turns quickly and attempts to lift Dillon high up into the air, but Dillon grabs him in a front facelock while in midair. Coming down with all his weight, Dillon smokes Sharpe into the canvas with the DDT. Holding onto the head, Tim turns over and pulls Sharpe up to his knees before snapping him back down to the mat with another DDT, wrenching Leon's neck like Farmer Brown does to a chicken. Lifting Sharpe for the final time, Dillon looks out to the crowd for just a moment before hopping into the air and driving Sharpe down with…

“Finn’s Fall”! What a series of DDT’s from Tim. Dillon covers … ONE! TWO! NOOO! What did you think about Fasaki's cadence there, King?”

"I think it was slow enough to keep Dillon from getting the pin. So that's perfectly fine for me, and for Leon Sharpe. Hey, do you think he's trying to suck up to Leon so he doesn't get his face smashed in?"

"I have my doubts, but you never know in this wild world of wrestling."

Fasaki raises two fingers to Dillon to show the count as Tim looks at him with a bit of shock. Pulling Sharpe up to his feet, Dillon sends him crashing into the turnbuckles with an Irish whip. Charging like a rhino, Dillon smashes into Leon’s midsection with a tremendous spear. Lining Sharpe up again, Dillon loads up another spear and unleashes it again into Sharpe’s chest. Straitening Sharpe up in the corner, Dillon drops flurry of punches to the ribs.

“So King, what’s Dillon trying to accomplish with this focused assault?”

“Well Axis, Dillon knows he really can’t go toe-to-toe with Sharpe. So he’s sticking and moving much more quickly than Leon can respond. And by focusing on Sharpe’s ribs, Dillon is going to be affecting Sharpe’s stamina so eventually Dillon will be able to deal punishment without having to even worry about retaliation.”

Dillon finally rears back and smashes Sharpe right in the face with a right hand, sending the man staggering out of the corner in a daze as Dillon sneaks in from behind and takes him down with a schoolboy roll up. Ejiro falls to the canvas and counts,

One!

Two!

NO!

Sharpe easily powers out from underneath in order to escape the pinning predicament and tries to scramble away from his assailant. But while he is on his hands and knees, Leon falls victim to a field goal kick to the ribs from Dillon. Another kick sends Sharpe rolling towards the ropes in agony, holding his chest tightly. Trying to end things, Dillon waits for Leon to get up before leaping up and wrapping his legs around Sharpe’s head. Leaning backwards, Tim tries to take Sharpe over with a hurricanrana but Sharpe’s not going anywhere! Exerting his power, Leon pulls Tim’s body back up and then drives it back down with a devastating jackknife powerbomb. Holding his ribs in pain, Sharpe continues the punishment by dropping a knee across Dillon’s fallen body. Reaching back and hooking a leg, Sharpe makes a tight cover for the…

ONE!

TWO!

TH…NO!

“Now that was a slow count if I’ve ever seen one, Axis. This match was over right there and Fasaki screwed it up!”

“Oh come on, that’s the same exact pace that he used to count for Dillon and you know it.”

Sharpe looks at Fasaki with a terrible grimace, angered that he didn’t get a faster count. But instead of getting into another battle while he’s already in the middle of one, Sharpe brings Dillon up in a slam position. Running at full speed at a turnbuckle, Sharpe drives Dillon’s back into the hard padding. Pulling backwards with Dillon still in his clutches, Leon gets a little head of steam before sending him to the canvas with a running powerslam. Popping back up to his feet with a bit of a grimace from his hurting ribs, Leon surveys his work. Leon takes a little arrogant stroll around Dillon before casually dropping down with another knee across the sternum. Pulling Tim up by the hair, Dillon casually sends him into the ropes and catches him with an elevated bear hug. Not wanting to bore the crowd to death, Tim immediately sends a bunch of right hands into Sharpe’s face. But all is well in Leon Sharpe land, as he cinches up and takes a little hop before sending Tim over his head with a terrifying belly-to-belly suplex. Finally allowing himself a little smile, Sharpe takes Dillon’s limp body and drags it towards a corner before climbing up to the middle rope.

“Sharpe has had control over this thing as long as he’s been dictating the pace with high impact offence, but now he’s going to take a chance. A big risk in my opinion, King.”

“But this risk is going to pay off with one squishy little potato lover.”

Coming off the middle rope, Leon drops all of his 305 pounds across Dillon’s chest with an elbowdrop. Climbing to his feet, Leon motions that Fasaki come closer and make a count while Sharpe places his boot across Dillon’s chest. Ejiro moves in close and counts away.

ONE!

TWO!

THR…NO!

Dillon throws a shoulder up off the canvas in the nick of time to save the fall. Enraged, Sharpe swears at Fasaki, cocking back a fist in a threatening gesture. Nonplussed, Fasaki stands there like a statue, unwilling to let Leon push him around any further. Getting back to his actual business, Sharpe pulls Dillon off the mat with ease. Sharpe loads Dillon onto his shoulders and wanders around the ring, carrying Dillon around like a trophy. Looking into the eyes of Fasaki, Sharpe shouts at the top of his lungs…

“This will be you, real soon, boy!”

Sharpe flings Dillon skyward for the move that’s “Illegal in 46 States” but Dillon manages to counter into another DDT that sends Sharpe bouncing to the mat in a heap.

“That’s what happens when you don’t focus on what you’re doing and the person you are wrestling,” chides Axis.

Exhausted, Dillon pulls himself up by the ropes trying to gather his wits and launch a counteroffensive before Sharpe can recover. Leon climbs up to his feet with his back to Dillon, and Tim takes advantage with a dropkick that sends Sharpe falling out to the floor through the middle rope. Dillon climbs up to the top rope and waits for Leon to get back up to his feet. Launching himself at his opponent, Dillon drives his face into the protective mats with a top rope bulldog! Driving Sharpe’s face into the padding, Tim gets to his feet quickly while looking out to the crowd for approval, slapping hands with some of his fans. Pulling Sharpe up, Tim sends him back into the ring as the count reaches six. With Sharpe prone on the mat, Dillon climbs to the apron and takes the opportunity to springboard up to the top and drops a big leg across Sharpe’s face. Getting to his feet, Dillon takes Leon by the legs and turns him over with the Boston crab! Screaming in pain, Leon scrambles desperately to the ropes as Axis comments,

“This is where all that work on the ribs comes into play. The Boston crab not only stretches the back, but the ribs as well!”

Leon screeches in horror as he desperately uses his upper body strength to pull himself and Dillon towards the ropes. But just as the ropes seem to be in reach, Dillon manages to take a few steps forward, pulling Sharp away from his salvation. With Fasaki in his face, Sharpe refuses to submit to the pain, blues, and agony. Once again pulling himself towards the ropes, Sharpe finally manages to place a finger outside the ring to force a break. Fasaki quickly jumps up and lays on a count on Dillon to break the hold. Reluctantly, Dillon releases Sharpe’s legs and sends them falling to the mat. Finally released, Leon curls up in a ball, holding his ribs in pain.

“Dillon has done an excellent job of taking risks while still working over Sharpe’s weakened ribs. And looks like its time to roll the dice once again!” shouts Axis.

Dillon scales the top turnbuckle, eyeing up Sharpe as he rises to his feet. But Sharpe has been keeping an eye on his opponent the whole time. With Tim poised on the top rope, Leon thinks quickly and dives at the top rope before Tim can react. The sudden shake causes Tim to lose his balance and fall groin first on the ropes, taking all the wind out of the Irishman’s sails. Trying to capitalize, Sharpe scales the ropes and hits Dillon with a series of short right hands to the head while both men fight to keep their bearings. Pulling Dillon up so that both men are balanced on the top rope, Sharpe pulls Tim’s head down in between his legs and sets him up.

“This is how Axis defeated Johnny Dangerous just last week!” exclaims Axis.

“And there isn’t anything Fasaki can do to bail Dillon out this time.” concludes King.

Jerking Tim up high and falling backwards, Sharpe smashes Dillon to the mat with a sit out superbomb! Tim’s body bounces a near foot in the air it hits the canvas in a riotous bump as Sharpe grabs his ribs in pain from the sudden impact with the mat. Gritting his teeth in pain, Sharpe holds on to consciousness and makes a cover. Ejiro slides into position and counts…

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

“The winner of the match, LEONNNNNNN SHARPE!” announces Funyon as Sharpe releases Dillon and lies backwards on the mat. Slowly pulling himself off the canvas, Leon looks at Fasaki with disdain and taps his wrist, indicating that Ejiro raise his hand in victory. Fasaki reluctantly reaches forward, and lifts Sharpe's arm to the displeasure of the fans in attendance. Smiling like the Cheshire Cat, Leon gazes out to the fans, before casually pulling Fasaki forwards and leveling him with a clothesline that sends the referee spinning to the mat!

"OH COME ON!" screams Axis, "Fasaki didn't do anything but enforce the rules all match long, as evenhanded as could be. And now, Sharpe is going to assault him for no good reason!"

"Sharpe has a great reason, Fasaki was one of the guys that took away Leon's European Title. And he's going to get his vengeance if he has to kill them all to do it."

Leon picks Fasaki up by the back of jeans with one arm like a baby and sets him on his feet. Grasping Fasaki tightly from behind, Leon throws his body backwards and dumps Fasaki on the top of his head with a tremendous German release suplex that sends Fasaki crumbling to the mat. Sharpe climbs back to his feet with a scowl that could stop traffic. Taking Fasaki, Leon presses him high above his head in a gorilla press, which can only be leading to an eventual "Silver Bullet." Turning around with Fasaki in his hands, Sharpe shows off to the fans what exactly he has in mind. But Leon makes one turn too many when Tim Dillon smashes him in the chest with a big right hand! Another hard shot to the face and Leon drops Ejiro back to the canvas. Finding his feet, Ejiro uncorks an elbow to the face. Dillon hits another punch. Fasaki hits another elbow. Dillon hits another punch. The tremendous flurry drives Sharpe back towards the ring ropes before Dillon and Fasaki finally team up to get a head of steam and drive Dillon over the top rope to the floor with a double clothesline! Angry as hell, Leon gets back to his feet and tries to climb back into the ring, but a hoard of security personal are there to physically pull him away from the ring. Meanwhile, Fasaki calls Funyon into the ring and whispers instructions in his ear. The ring announcer brings to microphone to his lips.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Referee Ejiro Fasaki has REVERSED his decision."

"He can't do that!"

"Don't tell me, tell him."

"Your winner by disqualification is, TIMMMMM DILLLLLLLONNN!"

"Barroom Hero" fires through the speakers as Fasaki emphatically raises Dillon's arm in victory. Still on the stage, Leon Sharpe surges forward in an attempt to get to the ring, but the security team is not about to let him through and eventually push him all the way to the backstage area.

The Suicide King roars in protest, "What a load of garbage! Sharpe pinned Dillon one, two, three and he's not the winner? What a bunch of shi…"

Axis interrupts quickly, "Sharpe attacked the official, and Fasaki had every right to overturn the victory."

"Makes me sick."

"Well while King gets some Pepto, let's go to some commercials."

October 9, 2002

Backstage, Ben Hardy walks around searching for the newest acquisition to the SJL roster Logan. He and the legendary cameraman Gus gallop through the halls at a brisk pace until Hardy spots Ejiro Fasaki. “Ejiro, have you seen Logan anywhere back here?” he says with an exuberant and hopeful smile. Ejiro, leaning against a wall and sipping on a bottled water, looks a bit annoyed at Hardy’s ignorance. “Hardy, you didn’t interview me when I first started and now that there is another new guy, you get all excited.” He sips from his water. “Meh, I saw him around that corner. Idiot...”

Hardy apparently doesn’t catch the last thing Ejiro said, but being in a hurry he and Gus walk around the corner happily. Hardy spots Logan and calls out to him. “Hey, Logan! I was hoping to get a word...” Hardy is cut off by a back elbow from Logan, knocking him to the tile floor. Logan turns around and looks at Hardy, and instead of helping him up or apologizing, Logan kicks Ben in the face. Without a moment’s delay, Logan grabs a nearby steel chair and brings it down into the helpless man’s face.

Blood spurts out of his nose as the chair clangs off his face, causing Logan to grin ferociously. The newcomer to the fed, kneels down and grabs Hardy by his greasy hair and begins to ram his fist into his skull repeatedly. The sound of fist smacking against skull echoes through the halls, even prompting several people to step out and stare at the scene. Not quite finished with this evening’s attacks, Logan grabs the steel chair again and tosses it on Ben’s bloodied face. Logan then takes his boot and smashes it into the chair several times.

Logan appears satisfied with his work as he stands up and walks away as if nothing had ever happened. Sounds of Hardy crying and Gus yelling for help are heard as Gus’ camera is set on an equipment box, facing down the hallway, affording the crowd a view of Logan smearing Ben’s blood on the white brick wall as he walks away. Gus says just off camera “Why would someone do something like this?” The sounds of EMTs approaching are heard as are their comments. “Looks like a friggin train wreck!” “He’s gonna need a shitload of stitches.” “That gash in his forehead will need some SERIOUS work!”

Fader.

October 9, 2002

“Now for the first time... outside of Ohio... get your own piece of SWF memorabilia! The special limited tome offer of a classic piece of merchandise! The Suicide King’s “Breaker of Hearts and Rules Alike” t-shirt! Yes the king of mean, the king of extreme, the king of... suicide... is offering his t-shirt for a one time only event! Unless of course you buy it online or order it from our catalogue, it comes straight to you at the low, low price of $49.99 (plus tax and shipping and handling). Show everyone on YOUR block how cool you are with your very own Suicide King t-shirt! (Offer void in states other than Ohio)!”

Axis: I can’t believe we allowed you to shill your shirt on the air...

King: Hey, what can I say? The fans just simply adore me!

Axis: More like they abhor you. Anyways, our next match is the psychotic, demented, musical Fugue taking on a newcomer to the SJL in Logan. We sent Ben Hardy out to interview Logan but apparently he hasn’t returned, so we have VERY little information on Logan.

King: Bah, let’s get on with it. Take it away Frito!

Funyon apparently hears King mocking him as he silently flips him the bird. He then raises the mic to his face but lowers it as he receives a small pop. In his mind the arena is roaring for him so he tilts his head to the side and “smells” the air like The Rock. His delusion of grandeur is shattered by The Suicide King hurling a pen at the back of his head. Funyon is snapped back into reality like a Slim Jim and gives his opening schpiel. “This contest is scheduled for ONE fall! First, he weighs in at one hundred and eighty one pounds... FUUUGUUUE!!”

The lights fade to nothing as Bach’s “Toccata and Fugue in D Minor” strikes up and accelerates causing white strobe lights to illuminate the stage. The music gets faster and faster until it morphs into “Ashes in the Fall” by Rage Against the Machine. Fugue steps out into the arena, still clad in his sWo garb; trench coat, sunglasses. Despite his stable’s problems, he strides to the ring, grinning his wide, wicked smile. He slides in the ring under that bottom rope and takes time to glare at the innocent fans while they boo him.

Axis: The sWo have been having some problems as of late.

King: Nonsense! the sWo is as strong as it EVER was!

Axis: King, Mak Francis got bumped and the two leaders had a Hell in the Cell match.

King: Meh, perhaps from your point of view the stable is crumbling, but from where I sit, everything is fine. Which is exactly the reason you should buy my t-shirt, The Suicide King’s very own shirt. Buy it and wash your troubles away!

Funyon speaks again, keeping a safe distance from Fugue. “And his opponent... weighing in at two hundred and fifty eight pounds... LOOOGAAAN!!”

The lights go out, replaced by red pulsating lights as “Helter Skelter” by The Beatles begins to rock the arena. The crowd is given mental pictures of psychopaths and serial killers, the song is linked forever to the mentally unstable. As the music plays on Logan steps through the curtain, onto the stage. His eyes move from side to side as he walks down the ramp to the silence of the crowd; it’s been a long time since he’s seen so many people.

He walks down the ramp as his music plays on and the crowd tries to quickly make an assumption of this new guy. Logan walks around the ring slowly, eying up his opponent from all angles. Logan slowly steps into the ring and moves directly to Fugue, staring him straight in the eyes and then clobbering him with a stiff elbow to the jaw. Without slowing once, Logan pounces on Fugue, waylaying him with a flurry of rights, lefts, and elbows. Logan finally whips Fugue into the ropes and attempts a raging clothesline but Fugue ducks under, charging for the ropes himself. On the way back, Logan catches the mad musician with a powerslam, causing the crowd to cheer.

Axis: Wow, Logan has a lot of energy... and some damned cool theme music.

King: Bah! All shall bow before the swift and powerful might of Ozzy Osborne!

The crowd is excited for the match and they show it through their applause. With Fugue down, Logan bounces loosely off the ropes and comes back with a slow elbow drop. Fugue rolls out of the way though and boots Logan in the chest to get him down to the mat. With his opponent temporarily subdued, Fugue attempts to roll hook on some sort of a submission move on Logan’s legs but to no avail, he reaches up and jabs Fugue in the eye, causing him to stumble back holding his face.

The referee scorns the newcomer about eye rakes but Logan apparently does not hear him as he proceeds to grab Fugue by his clothing and slam him shoulder first into the turn post. The crowd oohs at the move, which is followed by Logan quietly hooking his arm around Fugue’s neck for a DDT. Fugue however sees the move coming and reverses it into a basic suplex. Fugue rolls over quickly and makes the cover.

1

.

Axis: A quick kick out at one and a half. One has got to wonder what is going through the mind of Fugue right now. His whole world is basically coming down around him and all he can do about it is watch helplessly. With his fragile psyche, who knows how long it will be before he loses it completely.

King: It’s not possible. The sWo is in tiptop shape. So what if their leader is gone and the co-leader is wrestling in a pillow fight match tonight and most of their members are extremely lost without someone to guide them. I say they can tough out this rough spot and make them better wrestlers than they could ever hope to be.

With a jerk, Logan kicks out of the pin attempt. Fugue gets up and helps Logan to his feet by his hair and gets several fists to his gut by Logan as he attempts to stand. The crowd cheers for him as he fights his way up and they give a mild pop as he whips Fugue into the turnbuckle. Fugue hangs there for a minute until he is met by a charging elbow from Logan. After crushing Fugue between the turnbuckles, he then smashes his elbow viciously into Fugue’s face. The crowd cheers again, but not as loud as they have before, they almost sound worried.

Feeling his job done, Logan decides to finish up with one more shot but Fugue switches places with the new wrestler and begins to hammer away at Logan with several rights to the face before jumping to the turnbuckle. Fugue takes Logan’s hand and stands up straight, almost like The Undertaker used to do. Instead of walking the ropes and delivering a forearm, Fugue jumps and hooks his legs around Logan’s shoulder. He spins Logan to the mat in almost a modified hurrincanrana but landing in a fujiwara armbar.

Axis: Wow, that was different! Fugue is a great wrestler and likes to combine styles in order to completely confuse his opponent.

King: Fugue has always impressed me with his wonderful, if not slightly deranged talent. I hope to see this kid go far in the fed. And on that note *a logo appears on the bottom of the screen, a call in number to by the Suicide king t-shirt, 1-800-SUI-CIDE)

Axis: You do know that that number sounds a little... depressing?

King: Yes but the Jack Kevorkian’s company used that line before he got locked up and the phone number was half price so...

Fugue wrenches away on Logan’s arm and Logan lies still, almost appearing to be catching his breath, hardly worrying about the submission maneuver so harshly applied by Fugue. Finally, out of boredom, Fugue releases his hold. He stands, eyeing up his battle scarred opponent as he stands. Logan then goes on the offensive and smashes his elbow into Fugue’s face, dazing him temporarily, allowing Logan to whip Fugue into the corner. Logan moves slowly towards his opponent before hammering him with his elbow.

With Fugue properly out of it Logan rips off the turnbuckle pad, exposing what looks to be a piece of metal, holding the ring ropes together. Logan grabs Fugue by his shaggy mane and slams his face into it. The crowd stops all noise and watches this barbaric scene fold out in the ring. The referee immediately yells to Logan that his actions can lead to a disqualification, but Logan ignores the striped-shirted man’s cries as he shoves him on his ass. The referee calls for the bell.

DING!! DING!! DING!!

Axis: The referee signaling for the bell? Oh my... Logan has been disqualified in his first match in the federation. Granted that is an illegal move he just performed, but that is NOT a good way to get ahead in this fed.

King: Wow! That ruled Logan, do it again! I think I may just be starting to like this guy.

Logan pays no attention to the ringing bell as he slams Fugue’s skull into the metal again, stopping to enjoy every minute of it. The crowd still doesn’t really know how to react to Logan but they soon take a side. Logan picks Fugue’s slightly bloodied carcass off his knees and slams his head into it repeatedly and quickly, only using his grip on Fugue’s tangled hair for a handle. After about TEN shots to the turnbuckle bolt, Fugue’s face is a bloody, sweaty mess, even loosing his perpetual grin.

The crowd begins to boo as they spy Fugue’s bloodied face juxtaposing with a mild grin on Logan’s mug. Logan lifts a lifeless Fugue to his feet and sets him on the top turnbuckle, sitting so he faces the crowd, blood dripping from his face. Logan then backs up and draws his thumb and forefinger across his throat, causing the fans to boo for the unnecessary violence. Logan then walks forward and moves Fugue’s legs backwards so he is in a sitting position atop Logan’s shoulders. Logan then takes two steps backwards and then pulls his opponent forward and down, sitting out into a square driver. The crowd pops with boos/shock.

Axis: OH MY GOD!! That was fucking SCARY!! Fugue has to be DEAD!!

King: HOLY SHIT!! That has got to be one of the most DEVASTATING moves that I have ever seen!

Axis: Well, these cards don’t tell us much but apparently that move is called Logan’s Run. Wow, I’m not usually at a loss for words ladies and gentlemen but that was just SICK in its brutality.

Logan gets up quietly after decimating Fugue with his finisher and walks out of the ring. The crowd boos as he walks up the ramp but he doesn’t hear them. Drops of Fugue’s blood on Logan’s shirt glisten in the light as Fugue lies sprawled in the middle of the ring, shaking slightly. Several EMTs hop in the ring and examine Fugue as the crowds boos fade out and a general concern for Fugue’s well being takes precedent. After a moment or two, Fugue stirs and then slowly stands, showing just what kind of determination he has.

Axis: Wow, how’s THAT for a third match of the night? That was just insane, but ladies and gentlemen stay tuned to Crimson for MVS facing Manson facing Matt Myers in a lingerie pillow fight match... uuugggghhh...

King: None of us are looking forward to that match Axis, but at least its better than a ride on the bus.

Both announcers scream in horror as the screen fades into a commercial hawking The Suicide King’s new t-shirt.

October 9, 2002

The crowd is… well, they’re actually quite disgusted as we return to SJL Crimson, where the signs being held up in protest of the pillow fight match are in the thousands. Everyone in attendance, it appears, has some way of expressing their disgust for this match, from one fan’s “STOP HOLDING DOWN MANSON” to another fan’s “WHAT ABOUT SYDNEY?”, the fans are coming out to support the one thing that deserves supporting: Men who don’t wear panties. We zoom in on Axis and King, behind the announcers’ desk, ready to call the match.

(Axis) – “Hello everyone, welcome back to Crimson, and coming up next is a… *gulp*… a lingerie pillow fight match between Matt Myers and Mike Van Siclen.”

(King) – “That’s right, Axis. Manson came out earlier in protest of the stipulation, claiming that he wasn’t going to be degraded like this. So he’s not going to be out here tonight… hell, if it wasn’t for the fact that the new boss threatened to fire me if I didn’t stay out here, I wouldn’t be out here right now.”

(Axis) – “An understandable point, King, and one that I agree with you on. Now, let’s send it over to Funyon for the introductions.”

We cut to a shot of Funyon, who stands in the ring with a Best of Playboy magazine tucked under his arm, presumably reading material to help him forget about the match. The ring has a large bed and many pillows thrown in it, and Funyon is suppressing both a snicker and a disgusted grunt as he raises the microphone to his lips.

(Funyon) – “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is a Lingerie Pillow Fight match! Any maneuver that isn’t whacking your opponent with a pillow WILL constitute a disqualification! And now… the competitors!”

“Rise” by the Blue Oyster Cult starts up, but no pyros or flashing lights are set up tonight, as, well… they’d take away from the view. Matt Myers, head down, nothing but a thong on, walks out, his face beet red and an expression that, if read, would be “get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here.” He walks slowly, humiliated, down to the ring, sliding into it as Funyon announces him.

(Funyon) – “Introducing first, ‘Le Femme Nikita’ Matt Myers!”

Matt snorts in disgust as he kicks at the red carpeting in the ring as “Shut ‘Em Down” by LL Cool J kicks up, and onto the stage walks an equally-humiliated looking Mike Van Siclen. He, tonight, is clad in those trash-bags-with-the-design-of-a-bikini-clad-woman things that I don’t know the name of, and he walks down to the ring, the faint outline of silver tights underneath as he slides into the ring, Myers with a pillow in his hand that he whacks Mike with as Funyon buries his nose in the Playboy, sliding out of the ring as tonight’s referee, Mr. Bukkake, calls for the bell.

:ding ding ding:

(Axis) – “Please, God, let this match be over with soon…”

(King) – “…I’ll never use any illegal maneuvers again. I’ll never inject steroids again…”

Matt whales away at Mike with the pillow as Mike slowly gets up, withstanding the barrage as feathers poof out of the pillow with every blow. Almost blinded by the flurry of feathers, Mike manages to grasp a clumsy handhold on Matt and whips Myers into the ropes, bending over on the way back and catching Matt with a back body drop… but Mike holds the legs, and WHAM! Sits out with a Van Slaminator! Mr. Bukkake, looking disappointed, calls for the bell as Mike beckons to Funyon for his mic.

:ding ding ding:

(Funyon) – “Your winner, via disqualification, MAAAAATT MYERS!”

(Axis) – “…I’m sure he’s thrilled.”

Funyon casually tosses the mic to Mike Van Siclen, who has by now shed himself of the bag covering and has the mic in his hand. Mike raises it to his lips and begins to speak.

(Mike) – “Judge Mental… you can’t hide anymore. You can’t run anymore… I want a title shot. I want that World Title belt that I deserve, that I have EARNED, and that you have STOLEN from me! Get your ass out here, Mental, because I want my shot!”

“Testify” by Rage Against the Machine blasts throughout the arena as Judge Mental makes his way out onto the entrance ramp, standing there and looking at Mike with a bit of a smirk on his face.

(Mental) – “YOU want a title shot at ME? You had your chance, Van Siclen. You had your chance at Genesis III. You had your chance on Metal, in that three-way, and you were too busy getting locked in a back room with that…” and here, Judge points to Mr. Bukkake, who is standing outside the ring mingling with some fans, “that moron! Why should I give you a title shot, Mike?”

(Mike) – “Judge… I don’t like you. At all. I don’t respect you at all, either. I think you’re a vain little coward who fears me, Kamikaze, Tim Dillon, and everybody else on this Godforsaken roster. But you know that I want that title, and I will do absolutely anything to get it.”

Mental looks at Mike, the smirk still on his lips.

(Mental) – “You want a shot at me, Mike? You know what you can do? You can do what I told everyone on this roster to do last week, and you can make Kamikaze tap. The stipulations are still in place, Mike.”

(Mike) – “Yeah, Mental? What if I don’t want to face Kamikaze?”

(Mental) – “You have to, Mike. See, I got to know our new Commissioner real well. Nice, caring guy he is, and he told me that next week, on Wrath, it’s going to be YOU vs Kamikaze! And he even told me the stipulations, too… see, if Kamikaze retains tonight, it’s going to be a two fall match, the first one for the European title and the second one for the World #1 Contendership. All you have to do is make him tap once, or beat him clean in the second fall, and the title shot is yours.”

(Mike) – “Oh? And what if Kamikaze doesn’t retain, you old bastard? Am I shit outta luck then?”

(Mental) – “No, you see, if Kamikaze somehow loses to Jackoff the Raper, it’s going to be you and him one-on-one, one fall. And see, if he somehow wins that match, any way, shape, or form… the shot is his. And if you beat him by pinfall, DQ, Count-Out? Nobody gets a shot. You must make him tap out if he doesn’t retain tonight. See what I’m saying? So I suggest you make sure he retains, Mike, unless you really want to use that Clutch Amazico you’ve been working on. Oh, and I’d suggest your turn around, too…”

BANG! Matt Myers smashes Mike in the back of the head with a chair, having recovered from the Van Slaminator earlier. Judge Mental cackles as he leaves the stage, “Rise” starting up again as Myers dashes backstage, trying to get out of that thong as fast as he can as we go to commercial…

October 9, 2002

“Welcome back to SJL Crimson,” says Axis as the camera pans around the fans standing on both sides of the entrance ramps. “In a match that is perhaps our new commissioners big joke, Kamikaze will face Jack the Ripper with the European title on the line.”

“Yeah, why hold The Ripper back with a psychopath like Kamikaze?” Adds the Suicide King in his usual voice in which you can’t tell if it’s sarcasm or not.

“Psychopaths like Kamikaze?”

The lights in the Nationwide Arena slowly dim until they’re as dark as they can get with thousands of fans inside. Marilyn Manson’s “The Fight Song” blares from the sound system as pyro illuminates the entrance ramp.

“This bout is set for one fall, Introducing first, weighing in at 130 pounds and hailing from London, England, JAAAAAAACK THE RIIIIIIIPPPPER!” Announces Funyon, raising his voice over the booing of the fans.

Jack the Ripper walks slowly down the ramp while pictures of East End London flash across the screen in a eerie fashion.

“Jack the Ripper, perhaps undeserving, is getting a huge chance tonight with this match,” says Axis as Jack removes his trench coat and flings it at the referee before sliding into the ring.

Jack stands up and jumps up onto the turnbuckle revealing a new black shirt with the caption “It’s not over until the fat lady bleeds” in gray bubbly font on the front.

Godsmack’s “I Stand Alone” hits and the European champion, Kamikaze steps out onto the entrance ramp. Kamikaze looks back at his invisible ring escort Maria before striding down to the ring holding his European Title belt over his shoulder. Kamikaze then hands his belt to the referee.

“And his opponent, hailing from Minnetonka, Minnesota and weighing in at 235 pounds, KAAMIKAAZZEEEE!” Shouts Funyon with much more applause than Jack the Ripper had.

Kamikaze slides into the ring and immediately climbs up onto the nearest turnbuckle.

“KAAMIKAAZZEEEEE shout Kamikaze in what sounds like a war chant.

“I think Jack the Ripper is too scared to do what he usually does, attack the opponent before he’s ready,” comments Axis, trying to figure out both wrestler’s psyche.

“Too scared? He’s probably just looking around for Maria. Jack the Ripper’s stealthy, he can smell a spy from a mile away,” Adds the Suicide King with a slight giggle, referencing the Jack the Ripper-Johnny Dangerous match.

Kamikaze jumps down from the turnbuckle and walks toward the now backing up Jack the Ripper.

“DING! DING! DING!”

Both wrestlers start circling around each other; Jack backs up a little with every step. Kamikaze lunges forward only to be caught with a leg sweep. Jack the Ripper moves over and grabs Kamikaze’s ankle with a shortly lived ankle lock. Kamikaze immediately rolls over and kicks Jack in the face.

“Jack going for a very fast ankle lock, but it’s broken equally as fast by Kamikaze,” says Axis.

Jack the Ripper pulls Kamikaze up by his hair as he’s getting up himself. The Ripper throws a few hard punches at Kamikaze’s back before trying to whip him into the turnbuckle, but Kamikaze reverses and whips Jack into the turnbuckle. Kamikaze pause briefly to send a deranged stare at the crowd. Kamikaze follows that up with an attempted spear, but Jack jumps up onto the second rope, spreading out his legs, causing Kamikaze to drive right into the turnbuckle. Jack the Ripper then flips over Kamikaze’s back. Jack the Ripper’s head goes under Kamikaze’s legs before he actually hits the ground allowing Jack to do a schoolboy that looks kind of like a power bomb. Matthew Kivell immediately drops down to deliver the count…

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KICK OUT

“Kamikaze kicks out after two,” yells Axis in an excited voice.

Jack the Ripper stands up after the failed pin without letting go of Kamikaze’s legs. Jack the Ripper points over to the opposite side of the ring and says “Maria has a chair,” the referee looks over. Jack the Ripper delivers two quick stomps to Kamikaze’s pelvis before Kivell turns back.

“Jack the Ripper with a lousy excuse for the referee to turn away so he could deliver that stomp to the groin,” says Axis.

“What? You and Kamikaze see things, Jack did no such thing,” adds King.

Jack drops Kamikaze’s legs, looks up to the crowd and shouts at the fans causing a chain reaction of louder boos. Jack the Ripper then pulls on Kamikaze’s right arm, and delivers a few hard stomps to his gut before pulling him to his feet. Jack whips Kamikaze into the turnbuckle using both of his arms in a swift swing.

“Jack the Ripper seems to be cautious with his initial attacks but vicious in mid-fight,” says Axis with play-by-play commentary.

Jack walks follows that up with a running elbow to Kamikaze’s head. Kamikaze stumbles forward as Jack bounces himself off of the rope to the side, gaining speed before going for a British Bulldog, but Kamikaze hits hooks Jack’s arm and delivers an arm drag.

Kamikaze almost immediately hops up onto the second rope, signals to the crowd and jumps off with a leg drop onto the Ripper.

“Kamikaze dishing out his first real offense in the match,” says Axis.

Kamikaze then lays across Jack the Ripper, going for a pin.

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KICK OUT

“Jack the Ripper kicks out after two,” adds Axis. “Kamikaze with a two moves goes for a pin.”

“Didn’t you just see Maria holding Jack down,” comments King with a slight snicker. “Matthew Kivell is blind!”

Kamikaze pushes himself off of the mat to his feet. He then grabs a hold of Jack’s black hair and uses as leverage to bring the Ripper to his feet. Kamikaze throws two punches, the first one hits but Jack blocks the second one. Moves so the Matthew Kivell can’t see him too well and then pokes Kamikaze’s right eye. The Ripper then goes for an arm drag, but Kamikaze reverses with a standing arm bar before the two lock up.

“It’s still anyone’s game!”

Jack the Ripper drops to his knees and tries to lift Kamikaze up for a fireman’s carry. But Kamikaze backs up and quickly delivers a missile dropkick to Jack’s head. Both men are a little slow to get up, but Kamikaze makes it to his feet first. He then helps Jack the rest of the way only to pull him into Kamikaze’s elbow. Kamikaze then positions himself behind Jack, locks onto his waist, but Jack breaks Kamikaze’s hold with a few elbows to the head.

“The European title is on the line here,” says Axis, queuing in fans that may have just tuned in.

“Kamikaze is from Minnesota, what’s he doing with the European belt?” Asks the Suicide King.

Jack the Ripper then sends Kamikaze flying into the turnbuckle with a hard Irish whip. Jack walks over there, grabs a hold of the second rope on both sides of the turnbuckle and starts to run his shoulder into Kamikaze’s gut with a series of spears.

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5

Jack the Ripper then hops up onto the second rope, with his feet on both sides of Kamikaze, once again, locking him in. He then starts to deliver punches to the top of Kamikaze’s head…

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7

Kamikaze grabs hold of Jack’s legs and hoists him up onto his shoulders.

8

Kamikaze starts walking forward to fan applause. He then delivers a powerbomb, himself landing on his BUTT.

“Nothing Jack does can keep Kamikaze down,” comments Axis after the powerbomb. “Kamikaze is just too much for Jack to handle.”

Without letting go of Jack’s legs, Kamikaze hold Jack’s back down on the mat…

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2

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KICK OUT

“Jack the Ripper kicks out in the nick of time,” shouts Axis. “Jack can’t afford to lose this match.”

Kamikaze immediately stands up and delivers a stomp to Jack. But Jacks uses his legs to deliver a leg sweep and then an ankle lock. Jack the Ripper applies the hold tightly so that Kamikaze can’t immediately get free. Jack twists Kamikaze’s ankle to one side, and then to the other side. Jack does this numerous times before Kamikaze starts to crawl forward.

“Kamikaze’s going to tap out!” Shouts Suicide King in the same voice Kamikaze shouts his own name at the beginning of all of his matches in.

Kamikaze reaches out for the bottom rope, but it’s just too far away. The more Kamikaze crawls the harder Jack twists.

“His ankles going to snap!”

Kamikaze stops crawling and shows no sign of tapping. Jack the Ripper releases the hold in a fit of rage and pulls Kamikaze up using his arm; he then whips him into the turnbuckle. Kamikaze turns to hit back first before he hits. Jack the Ripper walks over, not risking a high-risk move only for Kamikaze to move out of the way. Jack delivers a few devastating punch to the face of Kamikaze before kicking him in the stomach. Jack pulls Kamikaze forward before forcing himself under Kamikaze’s arm, jumps up, flipping in the air while Kamikaze is still holding onto him so that it looks like Kamikaze is about to hit a vertical suplex. Jack purposely falls forward, hooks Kamikaze’s head and delivers a huge DDT.

“Jack the Ripper delivers his VDDT! One of the most dangerous DDTs used by any wrestler,” comments Axis on Jack the Ripper’s VDDT.

“I’d like to see Kamikaze kick out of this,” adds the Suicide King.

Jack the Ripper waits a moment to gather strength before hooking Kamikaze’s leg.

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KICK OUT

“KAMIKAZE KICKS OUT!”

Jack the Ripper rolls over in annoyance after Kamikaze kicks out, but he is able to remain calm and collect.

“The psychopathic Jack the Ripper is able to keep himself from flipping out tonight,” adds Axis. “Perhaps it’s because of the European title being on the line.”

Kamikaze rolls over a few seconds after Jack does and they both make it to their feet at approximately the same time. Jack lunges at Kamikaze and the two lock up, Jack rams him into the turnbuckle before throwing a few hard punches. Kamikaze steps forward and whips Jack the Ripper into the turnbuckle. Kamikaze immediately starts to fire off his own punches before whipping Jack the Ripper to the opposite turnbuckle. Kamikaze follows that up by kicking Jack the Ripper in the stomach, pulling Jack’s head under his arm and delivering a DDT. Kamikaze jets up, leaving Jack the Ripper face down on the mat, Kamikaze then delivers a few quick stomps to Jack the Ripper before grabbing both of Jack’s legs, twist one behind the other in a unique fashion, and falling backwards, applying a figure 4-leg lock. Jack the Ripper is able to reach over and grab the bottom rope before Kamikaze makes any real progress with the lock. Kamikaze yells out in a fury while climbing up the nearest turnbuckle. Kamikaze waits until Jack the Ripper makes it to his feet and then springs off going for a cross body off of the turnbuckle, but Jack pulls the referee, Matthew Kivell, in the way. Kamikaze lands on Matthew Kivell, knocking Kivell down for the count.

“That conniving Jack the Ripper pulled referee in the way,” annonunces Axis.

“That idiot Matthew Kivell,” adds the Suicide King.

Jack the Ripper capitalizes on the opportunity by sliding outside to a chant of “Jack the A-Hole.” Jack pulls up the apron, reaches in and pulls out a crowbar.

“Jack used that weapon a couple of weeks ago to literally pick Cutthroat apart!”

Jack slides into the ring with the crowbar as Kamikaze gets done swearing at his luck. Jack hits the leg he inflicted the ankle lock on from behind, knocking Kamikaze on his back.

“That lowly Jack the Ripper always finds a way to cheat his way out of loosing,” says Axis in disgust of Jack the Ripper’s personality.

“What? You think one little cross body can keep the greatest serial killer of all time down?”

Jack then lifts the crowbar over his head and whacks at Kamikaze’s ankle a few times before throwing it aside, falling down and going for a pin. It takes Matthew Kivell a few seconds to administer the count…

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KAMIKAZE KICKS OUT

“Kamikaze kicks out after two,” shouts Axis saying the obvious for the benefit of the fans at home.

Jack the Ripper gets up on his knees and yells an obscenity at a few fans in the front row before pulling Kamikaze to his feet. Jack hits Kamikaze over the back a few times, channeling his anger. Kamikaze erupts in a fit of rage and starts throwing punches at Jack the Ripper, with every punch Jack backs up. Kamikaze then whips Jack the Ripper to the opposite rope.

“This ‘eruption’ by Kamikaze has come out of nowhere,” comments Axis. “But all of them do.”

Kamikaze grabs Jack on his way back and rams his knee into Jack’s rib before continuing to throw hard punches to the face of Jack the Ripper. Kamikaze forces Jack all the way over to the turnbuckle with hard punches, one there Jack the Ripper hits a leg sweep, causing Kamikaze to hit his head on the turnbuckle.

“Kamikaze needs to stay calm during this match,” comments Axis.

“KAAAMIKAZEE!” Shouts King with nothing else to say.

Both wrestler immediately spring up, Jack hits Kamikaze a few times from behind a few times before Jack turns Kamikaze around and kicks him in the rib.

“OUCH! Kamikaze has to be hurting after that,” says the Suicide King.

“Jack the Ripper takes control of the match,” adds Axis.

Jack the Ripper tries whip Kamikaze into the opposite turnbuckle, but Kamikaze reverses with an arm drag and then an arm bar after Jack hits the ground. Kamikaze continues to stretch out Jack the Ripper’s arm while climbing to his feet. Kamikaze then fakes a whip, but holds onto Jack’s arm, trying to stretch it out even more.

“That psychopath is trying to pull poor Jack’s arm out of its socket,” says the Suicide King in a shocked voice that may or might not be sarcasm.

“Listen to yourself.”

Kamikaze then lets go of the now standing arm bar and locks on a wristlock on the weakened Ripper. He then kicks Jack in the stomach, forcing him to bend down before yanking him back up by pulling on Jack’s wrist and bending it back. Kamikaze pulls Jack the Ripper over to the turnbuckle using the wristlock, once there; Kamikaze releases the wrist lock steps up onto the second rope. Kamikaze places one leg on each side of Jack the Ripper, locking up against the turnbuckle to deliver the classic ‘ten punch.’

“Kamikaze is back in control of the match,” says Axis quickly, as the ten count is going on.

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5

Jack the Ripper manages to get one of his arms above his head to deliver an eye gouge to Kamikaze, but Matthew Kivell isn’t able to see it because Kamikaze blocking his view. Jack the Ripper then ducks under Kamikaze’s leg, quickly climbs up onto the top rope next to the turnbuckle Kamikaze is standing on. Jack the Ripper then leaps into the air as Kamikaze turns to face him, Jack body slams into Kamikaze knocking off of the turnbuckle.

“Jack the Ripper with a huge cross body off of the top rope onto Kamikaze standing up on the turnbuckle,” shouts Axis, raising his voice above what it would sound like announcing simpler moves.

Jack the Ripper hooks Kamikaze’s right leg for a pin. The fully recovered Matthew Kivell drops down to deliver the count…

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KAMIKAZE KICKS OUT

“Jack the Ripper was almost the new European Champion,” says Axis.

“That was a slow count if I’ve ever seen one,” shouts the Suicide King, astonished at the so-called slow count.

Jack the Ripper sits up and grabs onto the turnbuckle behind him to hoist himself up before delivering a few quick stomps to the ribs of Kamikaze before pulling him up using his hair as leverage. Jack then kicks him in the stomach before placing him in a headlock and lifting him up into vertical suplex position. Jack the Ripper holds Kamikaze up for a moment before letting him drop backwards as the Ripper drops down to sitting position without letting go of the Kamikaze’s head. The result is huge vertical-type sit down neckbreaker.

“Jack the Ripper hits the RIPPING!” Yells out Axis right after Kamikaze hits the ground. “Jack the Ripper’s new version of the Ripping is a blatant attempt at snapping someone’s neck.”

“What a neck breaker,” interrupts the Suicide King. “Maria’s got to be cringing after that one.”

Jack the Ripper hooks Kamikaze’s right leg and goes for a pin…

1

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2

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3

“DING! DING! DING!”

“JACK THE RIPPER WINS!”

“What a surprising match that was. Jack really has stolen the match, and the title for that matter.”

Jack crawls over to the nearby turnbuckle and uses it to hop up onto and then climb the turnbuckle.

“Jack did have quite a few cheap shots during the match, without them, I doubt he could have beaten Kamikaze,” adds Axis.

“I ‘doubt’ your manhood, Axis” snickers the Suicide King.

Matthew Kivell grabs the European title and brings it over to the now laughing Jack the Ripper. Jack grabs the European belt away from Matthew with a look that says, “Get your hands off of that.” Jack holds the European title up and screams out at the fans before jumping down onto the apron and then onto the ground. Jack the Ripper makes his way up the ramp to a symphony of boos and chants of “Jack the A-Hold!”

“Up next Judge Mental will name the opponent for his first title defense and the stipulation,” says Axis, talking to the fans at home.

The camera fades to black as Jack the Ripper stands at the top of the entrance ramp, holding the European title up with a psychotic grin on his face.

October 9, 2002

“And coming soon to the Kingdome, the SWF All-Star Basketball Game! SEE….. a confused Mark Stevens trying to coach!”

Cut to Team Face huddled around Mark Stevens, who hurriedly flips through the papers on his clipboard. “Uhh…. Ummm….” He flips faster, looking at the criss-crosses on the diagrams with a confused look. “Well….. uh….. Aw damnit, just win, okay?”

“SEE….. Exciting basketball action SWF Style!

Cut to a shot of the teams playing on the court. Suddenly the Suicide King pulls the ref away and starts yelling at him. The other refs come over and try to calm the spastic King when Frost and TNT pull up behind an unsuspecting Axis with a tall metal shed on a dolly. Tom Flesher and Sacred come over and ram the large Australian into the shed and TNT slams the door shut on him. Frost quickly clamps a Stanley Lock into place and the tag champs speedily haul Axis off the court. After they are gone, Flesher gives a thumbs-up to King, who stops his act and sits down in his seat, and begins to snicker uncontrollably.

The commercial fades away into the filled Nationwide Arena in Columbus, Ohio. The crowd is cheering like crazy after the last match as the Camera goes down to ringside with Axis and Suicide King. Axis looks up at the screen, which just showed the last commercial, and puts his hand over his face. “I can’t believe they showed that clip…” King looks at Axis and gives him a look.

“Of course they did. I’m in charge all the advertising for my stadium. And you’re just angry because your team didn’t think of that play first.”

“What, putting me in a shed and taking me off the court while the refs are distracted.”

“Yeah. You didn’t see it at that angle, but ELM and LDP were coming up right behind you with their own shed. We were very fortunate that we had practiced that play and made sure that we intercepted you before they did.”

“That’s a lie! They wouldn’t do that to me! I’m their top center! Not like they can replace me… can they?”

“Hey, all I know is I saw Stevens on the phone with someone named Rane…”

Axis shakes his head and puts his mind back to the show. “Well, it seems as if Judge Mental is to come out and name who his first title defense will be against. The whole arena is buzzing around about who it will be against.”

“Well, whoever it is doesn’t stand a chance.” King comments, putting his feet up on the announcer’s table. “Mental has experience and the smarts to defeat anyone in the SJL right now. I mean, only an idiot would challenge him.” The lights begin to go down to a deep, harsh red as the crowd begins to boo out of instinct.

“NOW TESTIFY!”

The crowd gives off more heat than the flaming pyros coming out of the stage as Rage Against the Machine’s Testify continues on. On the SmarkTron, the accomplishments of a long career in the wrestling profession flashes as the lights come back up and the pyros go down. Mental comes down, robed as usual with the SJL World Championship belt on his shoulder. The crowd showers hate on him, which slides right off his ice-like disposition. He deftly slides through the ropes and enters the ring, taking a microphone out from under his black robes.

“No respect for the World Champion? Figures…. I didn’t think a beer guzzling moron could understand what a fine wrestler I am.” More boos ring out from the crowd as Mental continues on. “Well, with the lack of talent that this whole League, it has taken me a great while to make my decision, but I finally cho-”

“I’M THE KING OF THE WORLD!”

Leonardo Di Capprio’s voice rings across the arena as “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins come out of the entrance! The Judge glares at him as he brings up his own microphone to speak.

“Hey Gramps! Keeping that belt warm for me? I figured that I’d just announce our match personally, since I’m the one you were gonna choice, right?” Mental opens his mouth to speak, but Spike cuts him off. “Exactly what I thought. I just need to know the stip and I’ll be on my way, ‘kay?”

“Go back to jobbing to some freak with a maple leaf over his face, boy. I’m hear to wrestle men, not baby sit.” Spike looks is taken aback with the last statement and speaks up.

“Look, old man, you’re just as ancient as the damn boat that sank and twice as stale as the actors that went down with it. So just give me my belt and I promise not to end your career.” Mental looks at Spike with utter contempt and retorts.

“Just leave, damnit. The only place that you are a good wrestler is in your own deluded mind.”

“Screw you, pops. I ain’t leaving til I get my shot.” Both men look at each other, Spike with a sly, cocky smile and Judge Mental with his emotionless, analytical stare.

“Well, it’s time to take you out of that dream world of yours. You think you are real man? Then I’ll give you a match that’s only for REAL men. A best 3/5 falls on Wrath. We’ll see if you can go the distance with me…” Spike smiles and begins to exit. But before he does, he gives one last comment.

“Don’t worry, old guy, I’ll make sure the EMTs bring oxygen tanks for ya. And remember to clean that belt, I don’t want it do have old man smell when I get it.”

With that, Spike leaves, and the Judge begins to exit as well.

“Well,” Axis says, “It looks like a best 3/5 falls match on Wrath against Spike Jenkins for Judge Mental. Tune in next week for the latest developments on this incredible match!”

Fade to Commercial…..

October 9, 2002

SJL Crimson (10/8) recap!

- Johnny Dangerous takes out the promising rookie Wildchild, then shakes his hand? Wildchild better not get used to that kind of treatment around here... (note: Wildchild wrote a good one here, but lost this one due to going 200 words over the limit. A good lesson to learn early in your JL career: adhere to the word limit, ESPECIALLY when King is marking your match.)

- Manson goes AWOL? Stay tuned to find out the thrilling conclusion...

- Sharpe gets the win....but wait? Ejiro reverses the decision, and Tim Dillon gets the W instead! Leon can't be happy about that one (I think him attacking Ejiro backs me up there)...I'm sure his next T-shirt will reflect that sentiment.

- This Logan guy is CRAZY! And incredibly original...I mean, who would have thought to punk out BEN HARDY? This guy is just plain NUTS!

- Logan may have killed Fugue or something. This new guy has some serious potential. Plus, Logan's Run = GREAT finisher name.

- In the technical masterpiece of the night, Matt Myers picks up a DQ win over MVS. However, Judge Mental crashes the party, and he and MVS don't like each other. They'll either fight, or they'll discuss their differences over some tea and a good chick flick. I wonder which one it will be...

- Oh dear lord...Jack the Ripper, Euro champ? That sounds so, so wrong....but it's the truth, folks. The King is dead, long live Jack.

- Mental comes out to blab....but Spike is here! Didn't he leave? Who cares! Apparently they'll be fighting on Wrath! Smell the ratings, folks!

SJL Crimson for October 8th

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