SJL Metal for Tuesday the 22nd!

[Guest Suicide King]

SJL Metal Card, Tuesday October 22nd

Due Date: 3pm Tuesday BT

Send To: TheBostonStrangler

Arena: The RBC Center in Raleigh, North Carolina!

 

EUROPEAN TITLE #1 CONTENDERSHIP TRIPLE THREAT

Jack the Ripper vs. Ejiro Fasaki vs. Johnny Dangerous

- I crave carnage. Give it to me!

- Match Description: Elimination style. Standard rules apply.

- Word Limit: 4000

- Send To realitycheck

 

SINGLES MATCH

Christian Fury vs. Logan

- Is returnee Fury ready for the sheer brutality that is Logan? Let’s find out!

- Match Description: Duh.

- Word Limit: 4000

- Send To ErekT2k

 

EUROPEAN TITLE MATCH

Pub Crawl Match

Tim Dillon vs. Wildchild

- Wildchild showed remarkable sadism last week, so let’s reward him! Can the Bahama Mama take on the Emerald Isle’s own Tim Dillon?

- Match Description: Think Barroom Brawl. No DQ, no countout. Match takes place at a local Irish-themed pub in Raleigh. Go nuts. Minimum of two ale references and at least one man must be clubbed over the head with a set of Irish Bagpipes. Just kidding.

- Word Limit: 4500

- Send To Tod deKindes

 

WORLD TITLE #1 CONTENDERSHIP SINGLES MATCH

Matt Myers vs. Kamikaze

- Boo yah, Grandma! Myers came within inches of beating the champ last week in a non-title bout, and Kamikaze tapped to the man facing the champ this week. Which man will step up to face the champion in the near future?

- Standard singles match.

- Word Limit: 5000

- Send To Suicide King

 

MAIN EVENT

World Title Inferno Match!!!!!

Judge Mental vs. Mike Van Siclen

- MVS won his chance at the gold last week, and now he gets it! There’s one catch. And that catch is really, really HOT.

- Match Description: The bottom ring rope will be set on fire after both men enter the ring. First man set on fire loses. No DQ, no count-out. I ask that you set something reasonable on fire, like a boot or glove or tights unless you’re running an injury angle. Refs and road crew will be waiting with fire extinguishers.

- Word Limit: 6000

- Send To The Boston Strangler

 

 

Let’s see some promos too, people!

[Guest Goodear]

I'm going to be making some changes to my profile guys, so... heads up!

[Guest Tod deKindes]

No _ in my name.

 

Whoever uses the bagpipes in the match I'm marking gains some serious points.

[Guest Powerplay]

MAIN EVENT

World Title Inferno Match!!!!!

Judge Mental vs. Mike Van Siclen

- MVS won his chance at the gold last week, and now he gets it! There’s one catch. And that catch is really, really HOT.

- Match Description: The bottom ring rope will be set on fire after both men enter the ring. First man set on fire loses. No DQ, no count-out. I ask that you set something reasonable on fire, like a boot or glove or tights unless you’re running an injury angle. Refs and road crew will be waiting with fire extinguishers.

- Word Limit: 6000

- Send To The Boston Strangler

......

 

God, did I displease you in some way? Well, I must do better now, gotta keep this title for a while.

[Secret Agent 0]

Why can't we ever play the MGM Grand? We been on the east side of the US for quite some time now.

 

Also on a side note: I call opening promo!!! I don't know why i did though, I never see anyone else call them anymore. But oh well time to rejuvinate something.

[Guest Goodear]

Can I try to kill you on the way to the ring again?

[Secret Agent 0]

Who me? Kill me?

 

 

 

 

Sure thing, just make sure you get a good pop from it.

[Guest Insanityman]

Well congrats Wildchild. I just got kicked off the computer, so no match for Tim. If you could all find the heart to forgive me, I'd be very happy.

 

 

The camera gyrates back to life revealing the millions of dedicated SJL fans. However the camera zooms in on the SmarkTron first. The background is engulfed in animated flames and a jittery Wildchild and Tim Dillon are seen. The font reads, “Tim Dillon versus Wildchild ~European Title.” Dillon is throwing boxing punches while Wildchild is grinning contently. The picture freezes and with that the camera turns into the fans. It pans down the RBC Arena where the fans show their patriotism for the wrestlers. After zooming in on a slew of little kids dressed like Mike Van Siclen the camera sits right in front of the announcer’s table. Axis sits on the right with the mandatory Pepsi Max by his side. Suicide King is smirking while he shuffles threw a bunch of half papers.

 

”Welcome back! I am stuck here with my colleague Suicide King, and we’re live at the RBC center where the action is JUST now heating up!” Axis begins.

 

“Right, and now we get to watch a Jamaican face an Irish. Life is good.” King says, the sarcasm overwhelming.

 

Axis rolls his eyes and then takes a sip of his Pepsi Max, “Right, it’s a Pub Room brawl, Dillon’s second home, and now we’re just awaiting King to draw the Pub which will fight in.”

 

The camera suddenly splits into two, as Dillon and Wildchild (with Matthew Kivell holding the belt) stand anxiously in front of a busy street. On his street there are three possible pubs to fight in. Wildchild is clad in his blue and yellow face paint. The solid black “Olympic style” wrestling test with the blue and yellow V on the back. He’s ankles, fingers, and wrists all have new, white tape on them. Tim Dillon has his black and green font “End the Fight” tee shirt, the cargoes with shamrocks painted on. Tim also wears his black skate shoes with the shamrock patch sown above the toe. Dillon stands beside his opponent, nervous yet hyper. He jitters around and pats down his blonde hair. Matthew Kivell is waiting in the cold hopping on one foot wondering why Tim plastered the belt with the Irish flag stickers.

 

On the left side of the split screen, the arena, “This match is scheduled for one fall… there is no rules or time limit!” Funyon’s voice booms out and the fans cheer as the match is ready to be kicked off. The once split screen then slides away leaving it back to the whole screen with the two competitors on the street.

 

“Right, due to the same technology that everyone knows about we can talk while you see the action.” Axis explains for perhaps the millionth time.

 

“Okay, Matthew can you hear me?” King asks.

 

Matthew Kivell doesn’t nod his head or anything.

 

“I am superior to you.” King then begins to insult Kivell until Matthew finds his earpiece and shoves it in.

 

“Right, you guys… head to the Darcey McGee’s Irish Pub.” King makes a face like he tastes something horrible at the pub’s name.

 

Matthew Kivell nods and searches across the street, baffled for the spot the three examine the area. The camera zooms out revealing McGee’s Pub right behind them, and then Tim Dillon taps Matthew’s shoulder. Matthew spins around and does a double take. Suddenly the two green painted doors swing open and a flood of people leave, nearly trampling the SJL employees.

 

“Guess they realized they weren’t worthy of being in our presence. Or even hearing my voice.” King jeers.

 

Tim Dillon and the caramel-colored Wildchild slowly walk towards the “battleground.” The second Tim pushes open the door the bell chimes in. Dillon takes a second to inhale the booze and cigarette plagued air and he looks around the rather large area. A few steel shamrocks hang on the wall, a few painting. About every two feet are rather cheap, shaky round tables that could sit three and hold the weight of two. Behind the bar is a huge oak shelf filled with various drinks, leaving only a few feet to spare from touching the ceiling. On the bar is three taps and the bar surface is cleaned. As the TV crew floods in the bartender looks on in fear, for he knew he bar was chosen. The portly man grabs his shotgun and makes a grand escape from the SJL destruction. Matthew holds the belt in the air, causing Wildchild to quickly grapple with Tim. Wildchild grabs Tim’s wrist and places a hand on his back trying to Irish whip him into the back of the bar with the large pool table. The music is soft and lovely, making an odd tone. Tim reverses the whip and slams in a hammerlock. Wildchild impresses the world though as he hops onto one of the wooden stools and he falls to the ground, slipping out of the hold. He retains the hold as Wildchild lands safely on his rear end, and Tim’s arm is smashed across the stool.

 

“That arm is crucial to Tim!” Axis points out, flinching at the move.

 

Wildchild springs back to his feet and waits for Dillon to roll onto the wooden floor, clutching his arm. Wildchild walks around the stool and he pulls up Tim. Tim catches him off guard, while Wildchild goes for a grapple Tim hits an uppercut with his left arm. A kick to his gut then slams Wildchild; Dillon releases a small portion of his anger by grabbing Wildchild’s throat and then pushing him onto the nearest table. Matthew leaps in lecturing Tim about choking and Dillon lets go. Right as Wildchild gets back to his feet Tim utilizes the back of hand as a weapon. He slaps a wicked knife-edge chop into Wildchild. Wildchild stumbles back into the table, getting smeared with the chops.

 

WHOOO! The crowd roars.

 

Tim hits another harsh slap that sends Wildchild reeling backwards.

 

WHOO!

 

Dillon then misses the last slap and Wildchild dives over a stool and rolls away.

 

“So freaking quick.” Axis says in awe while he sips at his Pepsi Max.

 

“Wow, never thought I’d see an Australian hick.” King sneers.

 

Wildchild then pops to his feet and dropkicks Dillon down, getting the cheers from the Wildchild marks. Wildchild pulls Tim up by tugging at his fine, blonde hair. Tim Dillon throws out a punch but it’s caught by his foe and he’s suddenly taken down by an arm drag. Wildchild then stands near Dillon’s head and as he bends down he’s struck with Tim’s skate shoe. Tim scrambles to his feet as he grabs one of the wooden chairs and instantly smashes it against Wildchild’s chest. Dillon then slams it down again causing Wildchild trying to roll away. Tim approaches Wildchild by his feet and he pauses as he holds the wooden chair above his head. As he goes to slam it down Wildchild throws his two legs into the chair, causing it to slam into Tim’s chest. Dillon reels back and hits a table, knocking it over. Tim huffs in pain as Wildchild slowly tries to recover. After the two have regulated their breath and are back on their feet, they collide into a grapple. Tim Dillon manipulates Wildchild’s body into a front face lock. Tim Dillon then uses his leg to sweep a stool’s leg as it falls near the two. Tim Dillon then pulls him up into the air vertically. He positions himself and he goes for the drop, but Wildchild slips away. Wildchild then hops onto one of the tables and Dillon whirls around. Right as Wildchild goes to jump Tim catches him in a Gore position and the two fall and slam through one of the many tables in the bar. The wood splinters and the table crunches, and an “OOHHH!” are heard from the crowd in awe.

 

“Nice.” Axis mutters.

 

“Please, I could do that to Godzilla! Maybe even God himself!” King explodes.

 

“King, does your feces stink?” Axis asks.

 

King considers, “No, why?” King replies, baffled.

 

Axis lets out a very long sigh.

 

Tim Dillon then slides onto Wildchild horizontal and he hooks the leg. Matthew Kivell drops to the floor,

 

ONE! The fans cheer, as the Wildchild portion of the crowd remains silent.

 

TWO! Wildchild flings his upper body up, breaking the pin. The two both mount back to their feet slowly and Wildchild in his drunken state tries to go for a clothesline.

[Guest Chuck Woolery]

Well, fuck. Computer probation on the latter half of Sunday and all of yesterday force me to either no-show or write my ass off for the next two hours. Anywho... just letting you all no this so I don't get typecast as a no-shower if I do, you know, no-show.

 

- Mike.

[Guest 5_moves_of_doom]

Bah, COME ON. I'm a fucking MARKER, now let me MARK.

 

...thank you.