SJL Crimson - January 9, 2003

January 10, 2003

SJL CRIMSON CARD

January 9, 2003

Venue: HSBC Arena, Buffalo, New York

Card:

SINGLES MATCH

Insane Luchadore vs Leon Sharpe

It's a new year... and who returns but an old face? Leon Sharpe returns, and comes back to face an opponent he's more than a little familiar with... (Okay, he faced Tim Dillon, but STILL.) Anyway, Andrew and Mr. Sharpe will bang it together until they're bloody and raw, hopefully adding a bit of spark to the fireworks set-up for this first show of the new year.

SINGLES MATCH

Chris Card vs Crow

Well, what do you know? The fuckin' bird finally signed up! Of course, Chris Card doesn't really care, and is aiming to spoil a debut some year and a half in the making. Can Crow overcome Card in his first match... or will Chris make it two in a row off of HIS debut?

BUFFALO STREET FIGHT

C4 vs Mike Van Siclen

And after a sabbatical, The Amazin' One returns to greet the new year! Of course, he'll have to get past the explosive C4, first, who is no-doubt fired up over his win over the European Champion last show. And since we're in an inviroment as interesting as Buffalo, what do you say we use it to our advantage?

NON-TITLE

HANDICAP MATCH

Ejiro and Fugue vs Janus

Poor Janus. What's he ever done wrong to Ejiro, and the M7 at that? Well, besides taking Ejiro's European Ejiropean title, being allied with Johnny, Dace and Wildchild, and generally being a righteous, heel-crushing, do-gooding, floozy punkass, I mean. Obviously that's enough for Ejiro, as he and Fugue have tandemed up to face Janus in a handicap match. Fortunately for Janus, his European title won't be on the line here... although by the end of the match, it may not matter. Can Janus overcome insurmountable odds? Or will the M7 war machine continue to roll? Or... could that tiny rift caused by Ejiro's win over Fugue for the world title be widened?

MAIN EVENT

THREE WAY DANCE; 2/3 FALLS

Dace Night vs "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins vs Wildchild

A hopefully spectacular fireworks show to end Crimson and kick off the new year, as well as a match with at least a small amount of history. Dace and Spike have had numerous run-ins with one-another since Dace's debut in the league, and Wildchild--along with Johnny Dangerous--have an alliance of sorts... but--ah, hell. I just crave some carnage. Give it to me!

January 10, 2003

BOOM DA DA BOOM BOOM!

Fireworks blast high into the new year as the assembled fans of Buffalo scream their hearts out at the promise of another fine year of wrestling action featuring all of their favorite stars (and Spike Jenkins too). The camera pans about the arena as several fans lift their signs high into the air to great us all with such wonderful messages as “I Bought the Shirt”, “WildChild Wears Timberlands” and the perennial favorite, “Johnny Dangerous = Fish”. And greeting us into the land of clotheslines and cracked ribs are the announce team with mouths that talk about stuff, Axis and The Suicide King. And with them sits the special guest ring announcer that needs no introduction and so, doesn’t get one.

“Welcome, everyone to SJL Wrath,” emotes the co-holder of The SWF Tag Team Championship, Tom Flesher. “This is the first show of the year and boy is it going to be great. Because all night long, you get to hear me commentate alongside the Dean of Not Getting Disqualified, The Suicide King. Oh and Axis is here too... so it is not all good news.”

“Thanks Tom,” grumbles Axis, “and boy what a night this is going to be as we have match after match of hot and heavy action.”

“I already had some hot and heavy action this morning,” leers The King.

“Well, thanks for sharing that information, King. I am sure that every one at home is thrilled to know that,” says Axis.

“I know I am,” snickers Flesher.

“Anyway... let’s get this show on the road with the return of a former European Cham... hey... Who is that getting into the ring?”

“Oh, you’ll see, I have some hidden knowledge about what is about to happen and boy is it going to blow the roof off this entire building,” predicts the leader of The Magnificent Seven.

Stepping into the center of the ring comes a scruffy looking individual who is incongruously decked out in a tuxedo. With greasy long hair and an ill kept beard the man looks as though he was just taken off the streets and put into the tux. Tucking a small box under his arm, the unidentified individual walks strait into the face of the SJL’s resident ring announcer, Funyon. With a sneer on his lips, the stranger menaces Funyon back into the ropes with all of his ample 235-pound frame. Threateningly motioning for Funyon to get himself out of the ring, the unknown man waits as Funyon pokes his head under the ropes. Before nudging the announcer all the way out of the ring with a kick to the rump that causes Funyon to tumble all the way to the concrete floor in a heap! The fans immediately let down with a series of catcalls as the man in question steps to the center of the ring and pulls a microphone out of his breast pocket...

“Now, what the hell is all this about Flesher? Who is this bully and why is he picking on a helpless announcer like Funyon?” questions the usually clueless Axis.

“You’ll see Axis... you’ll see.”

The stranger lifts the microphone and opens his mouth but stops short of speaking as the noise from the crowd momentarily rises in a short boo. Looking out at the fans with a look of disdain, the man says into the sound system, “You know what? I have all the time in the world. I have no where to go. So I can stand here and wait as long as you want. So either you shut up and let me say what I have to, or we’ll just spend the whole night together.”

The crowd momentarily rises again to the challenge and drowns the stranger out with a burst of energy. But the man does nothing but stand in the center of the ring with a face of stone until the fans finally tire and he begins to speak once more.

“Thank you, “ he says with as much bile as he can muster, “Now, for those of you who do not know, my name is Tony Hydra. And I have been contracted to perform the exclusive announcing duties for a very special man. A man who the common announcer is just not good enough for. A man who deserves better than everyone else that would bother to wrestle for a bunch of scum suckers ... like you. And so... without any further ado... allow ME to present to YOU... The SJL HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!”

“Oh sweet Jesus no...” mumbles Axis as all of the crowd reaches the same conclusion that he has just done.

“That’s my boy!” shouts an excited Tom Flesher.

Tony Hydra continues, “The master of professional wrestling in all its forms and variations. The man who stands so high above all of you that you can only nip at the heels of his glory. The man who guides the rest of the rabble in the back like their own personal freaking Jesus! He is THE EMPEROR ....... EJIROOOOOOO FASAKI!”

Biohazard’s “Sellout” roars from the sound system as out from the backstage area comes the new SJL World Heavyweight Champion. Wearing a long black leather coat, buttoned up to the neck, Ejiro Fasaki slowly steps down the aisle way with the heavy golden belt draped over his shoulder as a trophy for all of his victories. Looking back and forth to all of the people that he hates so much, Ejiro Fasaki revels in his new position as the top man in the SJL. Stepping up the ringside steps, Ejiro slowly walks down the apron to the center before stepping up to the middle rope and raising his arm into the air as yellow pyrotechnics blast from the turnbuckles and into the sky above. Stepping up and over the top rope, Ejiro lands easily before walking up to his new lackey, Tony Hydra, and extending a hand.

“Now what?” moans Axis, “Wasn’t having his very own ring announcer enough?”

“It’s never enough, Axis,” mouths Tom, “He’s a World Champion now, and he’s going to get all the perks that go along with it. That belt changes a whole lot about you and it’s making Fasaki even more focused than he was before. He’s focused like a laser and I could not be happier.”

Starling for just a moment, Tony Hydra remembers to stop basking in Fasaki’s radiance and pulls forth the small box he was carrying earlier. Opening the box, Hydra produces a golden microphone in a velvet bedding. Looking at the microphone with a slight smile the razor sharp World Champion snatches it out of its case and raises it to his mouth as the assembled masses boo the hell out of the man that dares to represent them.

“Before the next one of you decides to say anything,” Ejiro Fasaki begins, “I would like to remind you all, that I am better than you and I have the World Heavyweight Championship to prove it.”

Raising the belt high in the air only causes the fans assembled to once again bury Fasaki under a torrent of boos as Tony Hydra stomps around the ring trying to get them to show the proper respect to their champion.

“Damn right, Ejiro! Show these people just how great you are!” eggs on the commander in chief of the Magnificent Seven.

The SJL Champion continues, “Thank you. And since I am a better person than all of you, I deserve better things than you can ever hope to possess. Like my own microphone, my own announcer, and my own World Heavyweight Title. And, in case anyone is wondering about it, I plan to hold onto all of these things with the iron grip. Because, let’s all be honest about it, there is no one in this federation that can take my prizes away from me. Everyone I have faced, I have beaten. Anyone who I haven’t faced is not worth my time. Quite frankly, it’s an embarrassment that the powers that be have decided to put myself and Fugue, my only real competition and dearest friend, against Janus tonight in a handicapped match. What the hell is that? Does the person in charge want to see Janus dead? Facing the current and former World Heavyweight Champion at the same time is like going on safari with a cap pistol. Not to take anything away from out European Champion, but come on! He’s a dead man walking.”

“He’s got a point, Axis,” brings up The Suicide King, “No matter how big and strong you are, you aren’t just going to roll over Fugue and Ejiro Fasaki at the same time by yourself. No way!”

“But that’s not the saddest thing,” remarks Fasaki, “The sad thing is that I don’t even get to bask in my own glory as the new champion. I have to be part of a handicapped match? A handicapped match? Now that might be fine and good for people who need the help, but I’m the best wrestler in all of SJL. I’m not WildChild here after all!” Ejiro pauses for a moment as the fans cheer the mention of one of their favorites, “Oh wait, I forgot. That is my fault. I forgot that out of the two of us, WildChild is the main event talent. Because WildChild works the match after mine, because, get this, the World Champion isn’t good enough to close this Goddamn show. Well, that’s not good enough for me. That’s not good enough for your champion. WildChild, Dace Night, Spike Jenkins, none of them are good enough for your champion to be warming the crowd up for and I will be damned if this situation will continue. So let me tell you this, I am going to make it my mission in life to prove to all of you that I am better than those three that I going to make a challenge to the winner of that match. I will face you one-on-one next week...”

The fans erupt at the prospect of a title match ... that they aren’t going to see live. Weird huh?

“Now wait, wait a minute. Don’t get carried away, because I cannot control my own bookings obviously or I wouldn’t be in the match I am in tonight. I have no say as to whether or not my World Title will be on the line. But I’m perfectly willing to allow it to happen. Because I know in my heart, that I am better than any person the SJL can set in my path. In fact, I am so comfortable in my abilities... I will even allow the winner of that contest to pick any stipulations they want. Because I can beat Dace Night in a death match! Because I can beat Spike Jenkins 3 out of 5 falls. And I can beat WildChild in any match his mind can conceive.

Because I’m better than them...

AND I CAN PROVE IT!”

January 10, 2003

(The SJL camera squad recollects themselves and soon the television screen for millions of fans hums to life! The fans from home all envy the Buffalo natives who chose to buy tickets for the JL’s explosive show! The camera tilts it’s way down the arena catching many interesting sights and signs. Signs like “MARRY ME TOM!” and “WE WANT MYERS!” are noticed. The camera then pans it’s way through a throng of fans all dressed like the returning Mike Van Siclen. Finally the camera settles right in front of the announcer table where Axis, Suicide King, and the “Superior One” Tom Flesher sit!)

“Love that shirt King, where’d you get it?” Tom sucks up.

King looks down at the shirt, “Polo outlet.”

Like a teenager watching Justin Timberlake in 2000, Tom sighs in admiration.

“You two are, ugh, never mind. Welcome folks! Live from Buffalo, New York we have the despicable Suicide King and the man whose ego can topple gods Tom Flesher with us!” The East Coast begins to boo Axis for insulting their homeboy.

Flesher butts in, “You don’t insult one of the best places in New York!” He gets the cheap pop. “And don’t get started on my id- err, peer Suicide King!” Tom glances over to see SK nodding in agreement.

Axis responds with a roll of the eyes, “We have quite the show for the loyal viewers and smarks alike! Not to mention our opener should be very entertaining!”

“I doubt that Axis, you see Leon is just a senseless brawler and IL happens to be a senseless cruiserweight.” Tom Flesher points out to a few scattered boos of the loyal fans of Sharpe and IL.

Before either one of them could say any more strobe lights begin to flick across the whole arena. Garbage’s “The World Is Not Enough” begins to hum on the sound system. The lead singer, Shirley, then hits the few words "The world is not enough" and pyro blasts off. The fans all stands up from their seats begin to cheer loudly for the returning Leon Sharpe! The returnee steps onto the metallic stage with the same long black hair and black goatee and moustache. Sharpe uses himself as a walking advertisement as he wears the Leon Sharpe personal tee shirt and the leather pants and simple boots. He slowly takes a few confident strides down the aisle, fired up for his return.

“Born from Detroit, Michigan weighing in around 305… LLEEEOOONNN SHARPPEE!” Funyon exclaims.

He then slaps a few hands and then peels off his shirt revealing the upper half of a singlet. The fans all lunge out and get their hand slapped while Leon offers them a tee all the way done the ring. He hops onto the apron and then high steps over the top rope giving his monster appearance an ever more menacing look. He patiently waits in middle ring and he gives a nod of acknowledgement to Matthew Kivell.

The lights black out as the PA speakers are heard click on, “I felt the hate rise up in me… kneel down and clear the stone of leaves. I want to wonder where you can’t see.” Within that pause of the lyrics the fans all recognize the tune as if it was a classic. Slipknot’s “Wait and Bleed” slowly continues on, marking the arrival of the Psychotic Hero, Insane Luchador!

“Inside my shell I wait and bleed…” Seconds later the song goes into a heavy tune and the fans all give out their cheers for Andrew Rickmen. Suddenly one strobe light illuminates the arena while Flesher mumbles about using the lights to win over the crowd. Everyone nearly soils their pants as red and black pyro explodes across the stage and the lights come back on at a dim. The man whose face resembles a more psychotic Stephen Lynch steps out onto the stage in a long sleeved solid blue tee shirt. He also wears the same khaki cargoes that fit loosely at his hips and the same pair of black Orisis since the day he joined. Running a hand through his raven black hair he takes a final deep breath. He sprints down the aisle slapping the hands that are reached out and a few camera lights flash. He slides into the ring with such speed going in he slides nearly right into Leon’s feet. The bell chimes in.

“And this suckfest to kick off ’03 begins!” Flesher beats Axis to a more appropriate comment.

~

Sometimes a man’s worse enemy is himself

~

Andrew Rickmen and Leon Sharpe both take a few steps in a circle like a dramatic movie. Leon throws out a huge right swing at Rickmen, who simply ducks under it and pops back up throwing his own jab to Sharpe’s chin. The egomaniac, Sharpe, barely even stumbles and responds with the mandatory knife edged chop.

WHAP “WHOO!” Andrew reels back clutching his chest. He shakes it off and only steps forwards to get a taunting slap from Leon as if Sharpe was Bing Crosby and IL was his kid. This action gets a mixed reaction and causes Insane Luchador to show no remorse on his next slap.

WHAP “WHOO!” That’d leave a mark, but no matter Leon grits his teeth.

WHAAAPP “WHOOOO!” Rickmen reels back as if he was shoved and wheezes for air. This gives Sharpe a chance to move in for a somewhat early advantage.

The massive 6’10” man throws himself forward and grabs IL’s midsection and picks IL up to his surprise. Like a kid being picked up by a father for a temper tantrum Andrew kicks his feet but seconds later Sharpe has him in an inevitable back breaker. He reduces to one knee and IL’s spine slams against his back and Leon simply rolls IL off his knee. Andrew quickly bounces back, as he always does, and takes a few steps to “walk it off.” Sharpe just watches with amusement and then extends his hand out.

“It’s a trick!” Tom blurts.

“Hey now, not all people are despicable as you!” Axis retorts, still to a few boos. “Damn hometowns.” He mumbles.

Insane Luchador accepts and to a minor cheering they shake hands.

“Perhaps it was to break the flow, Sharpe isn’t the fastest of them all.” King insightfully comments. Axis mutters something about finally saying something right and Tom nearly jumps the Aussie.

The two then collide into a grapple and Sharpe obviously overpowers the Luchador. He whips Andrew into the ropes and when Rickmen runs back gets to taste a leather boot. If you haven’t had the chance to taste leather I’d highly not recommend it, avoid the situation. But either way IL crumbles to the mat like the Leaning Tower of Pisa in 2023. Sharpe doesn’t feel quite content with the damage and he lifts Andrew back to his feet with his black spiked hair. Sharpe lets go of the staggering Luchador to throw his arms up for the cheap cheers. The fans welcome Sharpe’s return and is reminded why they like Sharpe as he nearly knocks IL’s head off with a clothesline!

“MUWAHAHAHAHA!” The laugh of Insane Luchador also reminds why all the fans are freaked out by the Stephen Lynch look-alike. Andrew Rickmen grabs his head in utter pain but uses the laugh to catch Leon off guard. If Sharpe had studied IL or even wrestled him before he wouldn’t have been so freaked out. But while Andrew holds his head with both arms and keeps laughing Leon pauses, ensnared in his trap. Insane Luchador lunges forwards and delivers a kick right into Sharpe’s gut! Sharpe doubles over and Andrew takes the few milliseconds to hit the headlock and bring Leon down in a snap DDT!

“Working on the head is a good strategy, but not the same breath taking, dare I say ‘Superior’ tactics I use.” Tom plugs himself, again.

Andrew Rickmen then grabs Leon’s wild black hair and jerks up the 305 beast up. He uses all his might, which isn’t that much; he tosses Sharpe out of the ring! Leon lands with, what is to IL, a reassuring “Thud!” Andrew Rickmen suddenly looks over at Matthew who reads him like a book and begs IL not too. Rickmen starts running back into the opposite ropes and starts charging towards Leon Sharpe on the outside. Andrew swoops down, rolls up and flips himself over the ropes! He clears the ropes and apron with ease as he swantons towards Sharpe! All the fans blink rapidly and flinch before the impact hits. Leon suddenly feels 221 pounds with added force crush against his body and he his whole body spasms. The fans in the front row lean over to survey the damage the fans words cheers for mutual respect can be heard. Kivell walks over to the ring and peeks over the ring and down on the cement and shudders at the human train wreck.

“Not worth risking your body for such flashy moves.” Flesher huffs, with dare I say, a hint of jealousy to the comment?

Meanwhile Matthew kicks up the count,

ONE! Andrew Rickmen and Leon Sharpe both shove on another off with somewhat fatigue.

TWO! The two slowly try to mount back to their feet.

THREE! Leon uses the apron for stability while Insane Luchador rolls to his left and grabs the barricade.

FOUR! The two get to one knee and begin to get back up.

FIVE! On both for the two and the fans get ready for the last few seconds of brawling.

SIX! Leon steps outwards and grabs IL’s spiked hair and then gives him a toss towards the steel steps! The Sharpe marks cheer while the Insane Luchador marks bite their nails.

SEVEN! Luchador smacks against the steel steps and they dislodge tumbling away. Rickmen slowly groans and flops onto his stomach clutching his back.

EIGHT! Like a fallen old lady he slowly tries to pull his body back up after a nasty fall.

NINE! Luchador slowly pulls himself up and Leon Sharpe grabs his head and tugs him into the ring.

“A very honorable move by Sharpe.” Axis mentions.

“More like dumb and naïve.” King and Flesher say simultaneously.

Sharpe suddenly floors Andrew Rickmen with another big boot! IL sways like a drunk and falls against the ropes, getting his arms tied up! The former European Champion (Sharpe) slowly steps towards with a glisten to his eyes.

“Gee, is Sharpe swooning from love?” Tom mocks.

Sharpe slowly raises his one hand forwards signaling for his signature- the chokeslam! Fans across the arena unite to cheer on Leon who smacks his hand onto Insane Luchador’s exposed neck flesh. He tugs Andrew free who whimpers like a dog, excepting his faith.

Or does he?

Andrew Rickmen then begins to furiously send elbows into Sharpe’s ribs and chest but still gets lifted him the air. Everyone holds their breath and Leon spins in a 180* due to his terrible ring position. He slams the nearly certifiable masochist against the canvas and IL bounces back up like a kick ball! Sharpe looks down, content with the damage. He drops down elbow dropping Andrew for what he hopes to be the killer,

“ONE!” The fans chant, minus the IL marks.

“TWO!” Andrew struggles to defy the 250-pound beast.

“THREE!” The fans are wrong, even the smarks are wrong. Kivell throws up two fingers due to IL’s desperate kick out. Sharpe sighs but knew the kick out was inevitable, so in response he slowly picks IL back up. Leon reaches out to grab the Insane Luchador but Andrew has the sense to duck away. Within a few seconds Andrew Rickmen throws his skate shoe down upon Sharpe’s right kneecap, hard. He then delivers a punch that sends Leon’s head for whiplash and Rickmen carefully sends a palm strike nearly to the throat. All the fans stare on the brutal combination until Andrew swoops down and grabs one of Sharpe’s leg and trips him to the mat! He then follows up in the roll-up and his fists fly into whatever parts of Leon’s body reachable.

“That cheap bugger!”

“ONE!”

The fans suddenly realize the jip ending that they might receive and the cheers cease.

“TWO!”

Silence.

“THREE!” Sharpe throws his foe off, but too late. Leon suddenly hops up, annoyed. The bell chimes and Leon’s face flushes a deep red. Sharpe stares at Matthew and barks for a microphone while IL stands center ring with a cocky look spread across his face.

“I don’t believe it…” Axis even admits.

The microphone is caught, “Look!” Leon pants, “This is not done! Anywhere, anytime, rematch!” The fans all cheer in agreement and IL nods his head. He slowly extends his hand and the two shake on the re-match to the upset that had just occurred.

“Well a lackluster match for sure folks.” Flesher spits out.

“They’re both untalented hacks.” King continues to antagonize.

“Much more to come and let’s hope for the rematch!”

-STARWIPE~!-

You can’t kill a man who’s no hope.