SJL Crimson - January 30th!

[Guest realitycheck]

"Grind" by Alice in Chains fires up and Chris Card strides confidently out of the dressing room area, clad in jeans and a Chris Card - Technical Perfection t-shirt. Conspicuously alone he slides into the ring and calls for a microphone to be thrown to him. Pausing a little with a smirk on his face he waits for the crowd to die down a little as his music fades out.

 

Axis: Well this is one way to start the show. Looks like Chris Card is going to address the audience.

 

Chris Card: Technical Perfection. Main Event. Those two things go together naturally. Chris Card. World Champion. There's another two. Birmingham. Dismal Hellhole. There's another great example of things that go together.

 

The crowd boos. Card responds with another smirking pause.

 

Chris Card: I would expect the most observant of you, the few who can retain the basic mental facilities to spot the obvious despite this miserable pit of humanity sucking every ounce of life out of their brains.

 

Another boo.

 

Chris Card: I would expect those precious few to have noticed the lack of a certain Gothic Diva from the side of your favourite wrestler.

 

Card points to himself in a sweeping motion and the crowd boos again. A small "Chris Card sucks" chant breaks out and Card is forced to endure the chant and pause, raising an eyebrow at the crowd.

 

Suicide King: Yeah, where IS Natasha Chris. We want Natasha!

 

Chris Card: You see after the unnecessary brutality of the badly booked and clearly not showing the strengths of yours truly Tag Team table match, Natasha has taken a break. She decided that only from seeing a black and white photo of Birmingham, she didn't want to risk her recovery time with such a pit, as I pointed out that the photo was actually in colour, and that Birmingham is actually that grim normally.

 

A larger round of boos.

 

Chris Card: So I enter Birmingham alone. On the Pay Per View I proved that, unlike Birmingham City, I can still win when in a team surrounded by barely skilled foreigners, hastily put together by bad management. Tonight, unlike Aston Villa I can prove that I will fulfil my potential, and not be a permanent disappointment to myself and my fans. Finally, when I win the world title tournament I will prove, after defeating YOUR Dace Night, that unlike West Brom, when I get promoted to the top division in MY sport, I won't do so embarrassingly badly I'll get sent straight back down again.

 

The crowd launches as one into a massive "Asshole" chant, as ripping into all three of Birmingham's major soccer teams unites the usually bitter rival supporters against him.

 

Axis: Chris Card REALLY getting on the back of the fans here.

 

Suicide King: They're just jealous Axis. They want to be Technically Perfect, and they know they'll never make it.

 

Chris Card: You see Birmingham needs international representation of class, of quality and of skill. They need what Halifax, Nova Scotia has in me. A superstar to be really proud of. A shining example of what you can become, as opposed to all you fat, slow, untalented, losers, spending your last pennies of your welfare check, your Giro as you call it, coming here to watch that lumbering moron Dace Night. Because like Dace Night, and like Birmingham's most famous son, that lumbering, brainless, ex-Alcoholic, washed up old bag of trash Ozzy Ozzbourne himself...

 

The crowd now is split between chanting for Dace and jeering Card, and Card greets their chants with a full on leering smirk, amused at the reaction and shockingly self confidant.

 

Chris Card ... none of you will ever achieve anything worthwhile AT ALL in your miserable pathetic little lives. DEAL WITH IT!

 

 

 

'Winds of Creation' Bursts into life as the crowd bursts into like along with it. Card flattens himself again the ropes.

 

Standing in the entrance way, in full gear and trench coat, Dace Night stands, glaring down Chris Card. Striding to the ring, Dace slaps the extended hands from the people sitting in the entrance isle.

 

Climbing into the ring under a hail of cheers, Dace advances towards Chris Card, who bails out of the ring, and runs off towards the back, under a torrent out booing and jeering.

 

"That coward Chris Card, coming out here, insulting this fine city, Dace Night's home town, and then turning tail and running when Dace comes out here." Calls Axis.

"What are you on about King? Card is a genius. Drawing Dace out here like this, so he can see what bad shape he's in, before risking any confrontation before the match. Smart move." King calls back.

 

Picking up the mic that Card dropped, Dace brings it up, but doesn't speak, waiting for the crowd to finish chanting.

 

WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK!

 

"Listen to this ovation King. A Home Town Hero's welcoming from his home town. One of the greatest things in sport." Axis says.

 

"International Superstar. Wrestled around the world. Held Titles around the world. Held World Titles. Held the greatest World Title of them all. I'm back to where it all started. In this little, small town bush league fed. Hehe. I think fucking not!" Dace grins to the crowd.

 

"I'm back, where it all started so many long years ago, with my best friend, the man the got me into this business. He was 'THE INTELLECT' SCOTT RAGE! It was K STAR WRESTLING! And this is mother fucking BIIIIIRRRRRMMMMIIINNNGGGGHHHHAAAAAMM!" He roars down the mic.

 

KS 'DUB! KS 'DUB! KS 'DUB! KS 'DUB!

The crowd responds with it's own roar of chanting, for Scott Rage, for KSW and for Birmingham City itself.

 

"And the crowd getting even louder. With all this history, how could they not? These Brits really know how to welcome their stars home."

"Inbreed scum. These lot are like damn Rednecks. Don't know their arse from their elbow." Sneers King.

 

"I can see a lot of guys I remember from back in those days. Tell you what, it's damn good to see you all. Ozzy Ozzbourne my arse Card. Ever heard of a little band call... NAPALM DEATH!"

 

NAPALM DEATH! NAPALM DEATH! NAPALM DEATH!

 

The fans chant on for the local band.

 

"Ever changing, ever stronger. Just like me." Dace grins again, loving the atmosphere in the building. "Guys, I can't thank you all enough for this welcome back. You all rule. Every single last one of you god damn Brummies!"

 

DACE F'N' NIGHT! DACE F'N' NIGHT! DACE F'N' NIGHT! DACE F'N' NIGHT!

 

Throwing his fist into the air in time with the crowds shouting, Dace goes along with them.

 

'I hope you all saw the Pay Per View this company put on last night. Poor Spike Jenkins." He pauses, to let the crowd chant itself out again.

 

YOU'RE HARDCORE! YOU'RE HARDCORE! YOU'RE HARDCORE! YOU'RE HARDCORE!

 

"Everyone, everyone. Please, you fuckers are gonna make me cry damn you. I'd man hug all of you, but I don't think my arms are big enough."

 

"What heart, what heart Dace is showing. What a connection with his fans." Says Axis.

"I'm going to be sick." Moans King.

 

"That was one side of me taking someone to pieces. Well, I'm pretty screwed up, but that doesn't mean, I'm not going to take Chris Card to pieces. I'm going to show him what technical wrestling is all about!" He shouts out to the crowd.

 

Everyone in the building cheers and yells along, in anticipation.

 

"What else can I say? No one is going to say anything about Birmingham while I'm around. With all the history that I have here. With all the support all you lot in here have for me. I'm going to go out tonight, and I'm going to beat some goddamn respect for Birmingham into that little shit."

 

BIR! MING! HAM! BIR! MING! HAM! BIR! MING! HAM!

 

"Bir! Ming! Ham! Bir! Ming! Ham! Bir! Ming! Ham! Birmingham, you all rules! And just you wait for what you'll see tonight. And then Chris Card gets a show of real Birmingham hospitality." Dace ends, grinning at the crowd.

 

Stepping out of the, and circling the ring to high five, hand shake and hug everyone in reach at ring side, he heads back off up the ramp, under a continuing hail of cheers and calls from the fans.

 

"King, will all this support and spirit here tonight for Dace Night, I don't think, even with all the injuries Dace has, that Chris Card has any hope of winning this one." Axis shouts.

"Axis, what do you know?" King sneers.

 

The camera fades out as Dace exits the ring side area.

[Guest realitycheck]

Card:

 

SINGLES MATCH

Omega Storm vs Christian Blackwell

Both of these men fought, unsuccessfullly, in the Mall Brawl at the Malice in Wonderland PPV. Naturally, CC has decided to pit the two n00bs together. Should be a ripper to open up the SJL world tour.

Description: Singles match, duh. Shouldn't have to explain it.

 

WORLD TITLE TOURNAMENT

HARDCORE MATCH (A:1)

Insane Luchador vs Crow

Speaking of opening things up, Crow and Andrew Rickmen look to open up the world title tournament... and perhaps a few arteries... under brutal hardcore rules! Bon appatite. Both have had their fill of hardcore recently, with Crow coming off a tag team tables match at the PPV, and IL being a participant in the mall brawl... but hey, these two don't mind. The winner will throw down with the victor of match A:2

Description: Rules...? What rules?

 

WORLD TITLE TOURNAMENT

SINGLES MATCH (B:1)

"Hollywood" Spike Jenkins vs Mike Van Siclen

Bloodied, battered and beaten, Spike Jenkins comes off a crushing loss to Dace Night at the PPV. MVS himself hasn't been in sterling form, one of the many losers at the Mall Brawl. Can Spike Jenkins rebound off his loss, and return to the form he's been in the past few weeks, gunning for the richest prize in the sport? Or will Mike Van Siclen's desire for the title he's longed to win so long overcome him? We'll find out, as two men who have been both ally and enemy face off in a familiar battle...

Descripton: Singles match, you know how it works.

 

WORLD TITLE TOURNAMENT

CAGE MATCH; NON-TITLE (A:2)

Arianwyn Rivenstone vs Janus

Life is good. To say Janus is flying high at the moment is a gross understatement. To say that allying with the M7 was a poor career move is blind ignorance. The European champion not only has gold around his waist, but is coming off a massive victory in the Mall Brawl at the PPV. And with his fellow JL M7 brethern moving up to the WF, the spotlight is fixed soley on Janus to achive his ultimate victory. And yes, to say Janus is the marked man in this tournament rings terribly true. For sure a target of Arianwyn Rivenstone, who despite a lack of success of late, could make one of the biggest upsets in SJL history if she knocks off Janus in the perliminary round... inside the confines of a steel cage. Indeed, life is good.

Description: Victory is achieved if one of the combatants escaps the cage, and lands with both feet on the floor, via the door or over the top of the cage. Pinfalls, submissions, etc don't count.

 

MAIN EVENT

WORLD TITLE TOURNAMENT

SINGLES MATCH (B:2)

Dace Night vs Chris Card

Almost as batterd and bloody as Spike, there is one difference between he and Dace: The Englishman walked out of the PPV a victor. But it comes at a price. Weary, and hurting, some may wonder why Dace is even booked at all. Some men will do anything for gold... especially Chris Card. "Technical Perfection" has been a gathering storm since his debut; undefeated, by hook or by crook. Will Chris knock off a man who many consider a favourite going into this tourney? Or will Dace's hometown fans provide enough encouragement to overcome pain and injury? The winner of this match will face the winner of B:1

Description: Singles Match, I'm sure you know the rest.

[Guest realitycheck]

Following the dazzling pyrotechnics display that opened the show, the lights begin to dim, and it seems we are wasting no time in kicking of a historical episode of Smarks Junior League Crimson. The crowd's response is a good one, although they know not about the man coming to the ring. "Three Libras" By a Perfect Circle begins to play, The melodic vocals and soft guitar greet Christian Blackwell, as he appears on the stage, not stopping to acknowledge the crowd, beginning to walk down the ramp, as bursts of fire shoot up from the side of the ramp. The crowd continues to cheer as Funyon gets on the mic for the first time this evening, in his perfect announcer’s voice.

 

"Ladies and Gentleman, the following match is a singles match, and it is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Rosslare, Ireland. He stands six foot four, and weighs two hundred and forty eight pounds... please welcome to the Junior League... Christian Blackwell!"

 

Blackwell finally reaches the ring, walking up the black steel steps to the side of the ring, and entering through the ropes. As the music continues, the announcers discuss tonight’s proceedings.

 

"Well Axis, it will certainly be a monumental edition of Crimson tonight! A changing of the guard it seems, as four of the SJL's best in ages have gone to greener pastures, and the new blood now flows through the JL. Maybe one of the new breed will capture the SJL World Title a week or two from now, or will one of the SJL old hands finally reach the pinnacle of the Junior League?" King reports, taking a breath after that long spiel.

 

"Who knows King, but it certainly will be a historic Crimson here tonight as we kick off the World Tour! We come to you live from Birmingham England, home to a lot of whining, stinking Poms!"

 

"Convict."

 

"Hack. Anyway, We kick off our world tour with two men who came oh so close to winning the Mall Brawl at Malice in Wonderland. This is an important match for these two, as every win makes the JL brains trust stand up and take notice."

 

As Blackwell stands in the centre of the ring, his music fading away, he looks up as the lights die out for a few moments, then relight in a fast strobe, going from neon green, to light blue, to white at random. The crowd feels a rumble under their seats, the sound of thunder, until a loud thunderclap is heard, and a bright flash, lights up the arena once again, as "One of a Kind" By Breaking Point hits. Met with a torrent of boos, Omega Storm proudly walks out, ignoring the English fans as he walks down the ramp way.

 

"... And his opponent, from New Haven, Connecticut. He stands at six foot three, and weighs two hundred and forty five pounds. He is the one, the only... Omega Storm!"

 

"In my mind, this man should be in the world title tournament! He has the look, and from what I've seen, the talent to win the big prize!" King says.

 

Axis replies, "Baby steps King, this is his first one on one match, after all. A win here would do wonders for both men, so we should expect a hard fought contest as we kick off the new year of Junior League action!"

 

Storm slides into the ring, looking over at Blackwell, then threatening to shock him with his tazer. The referee has a few stern words with Omega, until he threatens to turn the tazer on the lowly referee. The ref will have none of this, and swipes it from Storm, throwing it out of the ring. This doesn't disturb Storm as he just grins, listening to the crowd boo and jeer him, not caring one bit right now. He and Blackwell stare at each other from opposite corners of the ring, both mentally preparing themselves for the bout ahead.

 

"And it looks like we're about reading to kick this match off!" Axis reports, as Funyon exits the ring, and the ref points to the timekeeper.

 

With the sounding of the bell, the two men waste no time in locking up, grappling with each other in an early test of strength. Blackwell gains the advantage, his veins bulging as he pushes Omega down towards the mat, but with a quick rising knee to the stomach, he forces Blackwell away, the fans making their objections known as they jeer Storm. The referee glares at Storm, who protests his innocence, and begins circling Blackwell, already learning that his opponent isn't one to play by the rules. "My kind of guy!" King quickly remarks. The two men lock up once again, but Blackwell changes his strategy, heading behind Omega and locking his arm in place with a Hammerlock. Storm tries to fight away with an elbow to Blackwell, and manages to shrug him off. Storm quickly twirls around on the spot and lunges at his opponent with a clothesline, but Blackwell cunningly steps aside, taking hold of Storm's arm as he falls to the mat and locking on a reverse arm bar.

 

"This is the first time these two men have had a chance to show their skills in the ring," Axis notes. "As in the past when a pair of wrestlers enter the fed at the same time, they'll feel like they are competing with each other more than anyone else in the Junior League."

 

"And I can already see my favourite out of these two," the Suicide King replies with a grin. "Storm shows... cunning, in the ring."

 

"He cheats and he's a hoss, I know you'll love him."

 

With the hold applied, Blackwell tries to keep Storm from the ropes, but unluckily for him, Omega manages to lunge forward and grasp onto the bottom rope, and the referee tells Blackwell to release him. As the two men both get to their feet, Storm charges toward Blackwell and knocks him down with a clothesline. The Irish boy immediately climbs to his feet, leaning precariously against the ropes. A head full of steam, Storm makes another charge, hitting the old Cactus Jack clothesline as both men fall outside the ring!

 

Axis comments, "The two men's styles are already showing through here. Storm relies on a more power based offence, where as Blackwell is purely technical."

 

"In my mind, Axis, it all comes down to... who looks better, the better looking man always wins! Do you know a good looking wrestler who always won Axis?"

 

King's partner groans, "Let me guess..."

 

"Me!" King shouts.

 

Blackwell, who came out of that move worse for wear after that move, crawls towards the crowd barricade and lifting himself onto his feet, while the fans in the front row pat him on the back and shout encouragement. Grinning maniacally, Storm runs towards his opponent prone against the barrier. Blackwell spots Storm making a charge and ducks his head, throwing Storm up and over the barrier, into the sea of fans! "Blackwell has no regards for the fans safety!" King shouts in an uproar.

 

"Three!"

 

The referee calls from inside the ring, beginning to count out the two men. Storm grumbles and climbs to his feet, shrugging off angry fans as they hurl abuse his way. Omega tries to climb over the barrier, but Blackwell catches him before he can, cracking him in the face with a few stiff forearms. Christian brings Storm over the barrier and whips him into the ring apron. Storm holds his lower back in pain as Blackwell has his turn to charge, but Storm is ready for the Irish Boy, kicking him in the face. Storm quickly capitalises as any man would, taking hold of Blackwell's hand, certainly not in love as he attempts to whip him across the outside. Blackwell reverses the whip, sending Storm across the floor, his arm wrapping around the ring post, and he crumples to the floor!

 

"I stand by my claim that Blackwell is dangerous, a menace to society! Look at Storm, poor kid, his arm may be broken!" King shouts.

 

"Oh pipe down missy," Axis quips with a cheeky grin. "You should know more than anyone that this is apart of the game! It's kill or be killed out there!"

 

"Yeah, but... but... Storm is way cooler than you."

 

"Seven!" The referee shouts eying the two men on the outside warily.

 

Whimpering in pain, Storm holds onto his arm after the violent hit it took against the ring post. Blackwell, always the opportunist, takes advantage of Omega's slight injury, stomping on his shoulder. The referee nears his ten count, and Blackwell rolls Storm back into the ring, post haste. As Blackwell steps up onto the apron, Storm's all like "No way, bitch," and clobbers him one, but Blackwell's all like, "Like, ow, that hurt 'n stuff" as he knees Storm in the stomach, the fans of course go wild, even though Storm did exactly the same thing but a few minutes ago. Stumbling away in obvious pain, Blackwell steps through the ropes and stalks his opponent, arms out to his sides, ready to catch his prey. Storm turns back to Blackwell only to be taken down in an arm drag, as Blackwell keeps hold of the arm, putting his legs across Storms throat, locking on a Cross arm bar.

 

"Ah, smart move on Blackwell's part," Axis observes. "He can see that Storm is favouring that right arm, and is gradually going to weaken it."

 

"...You suck, Axis!" King yells.

 

"... Is that the best you can do?"

 

"Well the guy in the back stepped out for a sec, I have to fend for myself."

 

Axis whispers off mic, "Dude, the people at home don't know that..."

 

Storm's cries are a little more than a whimper now, as he desperately tries to get to the bottom rope. Blackwell cinches in a little harder, wrenching Storm's arm from side to side, hoping to get an early submission victory, but Storm wants this win, and it shows, the determination on his face as he tries to get to the ropes is tremendous. Finally, Omega's will pays off as he fingertips just touch the bottom rope, and Blackwell lets go. Storm has no time for some rest and relaxation as Blackwell kicks him towards a corner, aiming for that injured arm of his. The methodical Blackwell, an emotionless expression on his brow, drops his knee on Storm's shoulder in the turnbuckle's, the crowd rallying behind the Irish boy as he punishes Storm.

 

"Disgusting," King says.

 

Axis replies, "Am not."

 

The crowd's response grows as Blackwell takes a few paces back, lining up Storm in his sights. Bounding across the ring, Blackwell tries to put away Storm, attempting to drive his knee right into Omega's shoulder joint, but the determined Storm dives out of the way, and Blackwell's knee hits the turnbuckles! As Blackwell slowly backs away from the corner, cringing after the impact, Storm conjures enough strength, running towards Blackwell and knocking him down with a Lariat! Blackwell is tunned as he whirls back to his feet, rather groggy, as Storm tries to put the exclamation point on his revival, firing off right hands at Blackwell's jaw. Beginning to gain the advantage with his outburst, Storm finds his arm aching as he tries to punch, and is forced to storm, only for a second. A second is all Blackwell needs however, as he kicks Omega in the ribs, lifting him up in a suplex attempt. Storm counters, stopping the move by placing his ankle around Blackwell's and holding on tight, blocking the move and countering, lifting Blackwell up with a suplex of his own!

 

"Ha!" King grunts, "Blackwell's work on his arm as had no effect! Storm is still as fit as a fiddle!"

 

"You know King, you really should pay attention more often." Axis replies with a smirk.

 

"Huh?"

 

Sure enough, Storm's arm is unable to hold out under Blackwell's weight, and the Irish boy falls behind Omega, hooking his arm around his neck, locking him in a reverse face lock! But before Blackwell can even take a breath, Storm, using his left arm as the driving force, lifts Blackwell onto his shoulder. Spinning around in a circle, Storm suddenly lets go of his opponent, letting him fly off his shoulder and fall face first to the mat!

 

"I'll give credit to Storm," Axis comments, impressed. "He knows now his right arm can hardly take the strain of lifting a grown man, and is relying on his left."

 

Storm dives onto the mat and turns Blackwell onto his back, pushing his shoulders into the mat as some fans rise from their seats, a little worried...

 

... One!

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.

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... Tw- but Blackwell manages to kick out, much to Storm's Disappointment. Omega holds onto his right arm, as he lifts Blackwell to his feet with his left, now leaning towards kicks for his offence, putting the boots to Blackwell in the corner. Hoping back to the opposite corner, Storm measures Blackwell and rushes back to him, his rather large frame leaping into the air and crashing down upon Blackwell with a vertical body splash! Both Blackwell and Storm back out of the corner, but obviously, one is a little more conscious than the other. Omega whips behind Christian, linking his arms around his waist, his hands gripping together tightly as he lifts Blackwell up into the air, and falls onto his back, nailing a beautiful German Suplex on Blackwell! More of the crowd now stand up, the noise in the arena growing as they worry, Storm lifting Blackwell up for another German!

 

"Haha, see that Axis?" King shouts, tugging on Axis's coat. "Storm is able to hit these suplexes, bad arm and all, because he has locked his arms together. You should give this man more credit!"

 

"I did... about a minute ago." Axis replies.

 

"Yeah, well... you suck!"

 

"He's gone again?"

 

"No, that was his."

 

As beads of sweat trickle down his forehead, Storm begins to lift Blackwell to his feet, attempting a third and final suplex in the sequence. Storm cringes in pain, but tries to work through it, as he lifts Blackwell a foot off the canvas, but has to plonk him back down, his arm too feeble to lift such a weight. Blackwell, as quick as lightning, puts both hands on Omega's wrists, pulling his hands apart and from his waist. Blackwell then grabs Storm's left arm, followed by his right, locking him in a chickenwing hold from behind. "The tables are slowly turning again..." Axis remarks. Blackwell tries to push Storm down to the mat, face first, and does so, flipping over his opponent’s body and locking on the Cattle Mutilation!

 

"Blackwell has looked for the submission victory all during this match," Axis notes. "And he may well get it here! The Cattle Mutilation is a devastating hold, putting massive amounts of pressure of the neck, back, spine and arms!"

 

"But like you said Axis," King begins to reply. "These two men will feel competitive their whole career's, and losing their first encounter would be something that definitely do not want to do. Storm has to find a way out!"

 

"That's why it's such a smart move from Blackwell, not only is this a devastating submission, it’s a submission that's extremely hard to escape. Blackwell will wear down not only Storm's strength, putting him through such pain, but breaking his spirit with every second the hold is applied."

 

As the camera zooms in on both men’s faces, Blackwell has his eyes closed, obviously concentrating, whilst Storm is nearly screaming in agony, Blackwell taking care to put more]/b] pressure on Storm's right arm. Omega lies on all fours, his face buried into the canvas as Blackwell, in a bridge position, pulls back on his arms. Gritting his teeth, Storm slowly but surely shuffles his feet a millimetre at a time.

 

King smiles, "Aha! One thing Blackwell forgot to do was apply the hold in the centre of the ring. Storm is edging closer and closer to that bottom rope, nearly touching it with his foot... Yes! Storm breaks the hold!"

 

Blackwell immediately lets go, without any coaxing from the man in black and white. Blackwell is disappointed, but he doesn't show it much. He puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head slightly, but the cheering from the fans snaps him back to reality and the match at hand. Storm crawls to a corner, he already showing great resolve and stamina, not giving up even if his arm is near numb. As the fans do their best to rally Blackwell to deliver the finishing blow, their cheers only serve to anger the New Haven native, as he huffs and puffs, his eyes solely fixed on Blackwell. He looks down at his arm, nearly swaying in the non-existent breeze. With Blackwell back turned and mind somewhere else for a second, Storm delivers a devastating counter punch, in the form of a devastating Yazuka Kick!

 

"Storm may still have some life yet!" Axis yells. "The rookie is showing he can go the distance, even with his handicap."

 

"The pain Blackwell delivers only serves to fuel Storm's fire. He's not about to let some deaf mute the fans love crash his party!" King replies in defiance.

 

Blackwell crashes to the mat, as Storm gets onto one knee and pounds on him with left-hand blows to the temple, dazing the Irish boy. Lifting Blackwell to his feet by the scruff of the neck, Omega throws him into the corner with his one good arm, running on nothing but pure adrenaline as he ducks his body and throws it into Blackwell's stomach, hitting shoulder charge after shoulder charge. With Blackwell stunned for the moment, Grimes realises this maybe the time to deliver the finishing blow and end this right now. Lifting Blackwell to the top rope with his shoulders, Omega turns around, holding Blackwell's arms outstretched, in the set up for the Razor's edge!

 

"Storm has the quick thinking and determination to go far in this business!" King shouts. "He knows it would be near impossible to lift Blackwell up in this move by himself, so is enlisting help from the top rope!"

 

"I have to admit, it's a very smart move, but the question is, how much damage has that arm sustained...?"

 

Using his back as leverage, Storm holds Blackwell in the air, slowly stepping towards the centre of the ring, still holding Blackwell in the cross position. "He's setting him up for the Omega Cloudburst!" Axis announces. "He hits this, and it's all over red rover!"

 

As the crowd waits on tenterhooks, Storm begins to fumble slightly, his feet shuffling from side to side as Blackwell tries to manoeuvre his body away, putting Storm off balance. Omega's face is red, sweat illuminating it in the lights from above as he tries to complete the move with a diamond cutter, but his arm finally holds out, and Blackwell slides off his back and lands on his feet! Blackwell holds Storm in a reverse face lock, suddenly spinning around, hitting a front face neckbreaker on Storm!

 

"The 404!" Axis cries. "Blackwell did enough to that arm, just enough to force the error from Storm and allow him to hit his finisher!"

 

Blackwell falls on top of Storm and hooks him by the leg, as the crowd still cheer, and counting the pinfall as the referee slams his fist onto the mat.

 

...One!

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...Two!

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.

.

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. . . . . . Three! The referee finishes counting, and the fans start cheering s'more! The ref helps Blackwell to his feet, raising his arm to the crowd as Funyon gets on the house mic, proudly announcing...

 

"The winner of this match via pinfall... Christian Blackwell!"

 

Blackwell manages a hint of a smile as he hears his name called out by Funyon. He looks down at Storm, closes his yes for a second, and then begins to leave the ring a victorious man.

 

"Blackwell gets the pinfall, winning his first match here in the Junior League!" Axis shouts. "He saw Storm injure his arm early in the match, and didn't stop harassing that injury, and in the end, it payed off for him!"

 

"Damn it!" King cries. "I thought Storm had enough to win! But I'll admit Blackwell never lost his head in that ring, even when Storm threatened to take the match away from him. He is a well deserved winner, but mark my words, he won't be hearing the last from Storm!"

 

Blackwell walks up the ramp, a few battle scars from his first SJL encounter, but he is wiser for the experience, as Storm begins to slowly get to his feet, furious, as he listens to the fans cheer for Blackwell...

 

"What a great opener to kick things off! Coming up next, the worlds title tournament! The old veteran of the Junior League, Insane Luchador, will take on the pot smoking granny punching Crow to decide who will make it to the next round! So don't go away, more Crimson after this break!"

 

"I really hate your optimism you know..."

 

And with that, Crimson finally goes to a break.

[Guest realitycheck]

Grass clippings are seen flying across the screen, accompanied with the noise of a small motor and the screams of an unseen man. The noise stops, the camera moves up and Dace Night appears on screen holding a brand new shiny weedwhacker.

 

“A fine piece of machinery isn’t it? The Ryobi Weedwhacker is the solution to your weed problems. It’s light, durable and cuts better than any other weedwhacker I’ve used, and trust me; I’ve used plenty in my career as an outdoor worker. And of course, let’s not forget... as a professional wrestler.”

 

The camera zooms out to reveal a man being pressed down on the ground by the strong foot of Dace Night.

 

“There are many great features on the Ryobi Weedwhacker, my personal favourite being the choice of speeds. You can choose from 3 speeds. You can have a grass edging speed...”

 

“AAAHHHH!!!!!!”

 

“You can have big bastard weed speed...”

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”

 

“And finally, the insanely fast *Dace Night* speed..”

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY STOMACH! I’M BLEEDING, HELP ME! AAAAAHHHHH!! OH WHAT A WORLD!! AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!11”

 

“Wow, I’m impressed... what about you?”

 

===

 

Camera cuts from the advertisement to the vision of thousand upon thousands of screaming English fans! As per usual, many of the little playthings are holding up various signs. Some holding up quite witty signs such as, “I write for an e-federation! Aren’t I sad!?” and “Sexual Perfection: Cock Hard!” Others holding up generic mark signs such as, “FUGUE IS JUSTICE, FUGUE IS RULE!” and “I OWN A LEON SHARPE SHIRT!” While some, hold up signs which just demonstrate the stupidity that wrestling attracts such as, “Flesher Is God!” and “CORW SUKS!”

 

“And yes, welcome back to SJL Crimson in Birmingham, right here in the beautiful country of England! The Smarks Junior League World Tour is under way and so far, it’s been quite a show! King, we just saw a great match and I think the next match is going to be even better,” says Axis.

 

“Of course its going to be even better, The Antichrist Superstar, Crow is wrestling..... and that means Natasha will probably come out and do commentary with us, Axis!” exclaims King.

 

“I wouldn’t be so sure, King. After what happened to her at Malice In Wonderland at the hands of Arianwyn Rivenstone and Nocturna Bloodmoon.” responds Axis.

 

“Oh... well this match is probably not gonna be that great then...” shouts King.

 

“Way to sell the matchup, King. Anyway, the two men wrestling next are Crow and the Insane Luchador Andrew Rickmen. They are not wrestling in a straight singles match though, in fact, it’s completely the opposite. Crow and Rickmen will be beating the snot out of each in a hardcore matchup. No rules, no disqualification, anything goes fans,” explains Axis.

 

“You’ve forgotten something, you daft moron,” retorts King.

 

“Oh? ... oooooh, how could I forget!? Thi...” starts Axis, cut off by King.

 

“You forgot bec...” starts King, but gets cut off by Axis, quickly stopping the next insult.

 

“This match is the first match of the SJL World Title Tournament, the title being vacated from the waist of Wildchild after he was bumped to the SWF,” reports Axis.

 

“There are two pools in this tourney, Pool A contains the wrestlers... Crow, Insane Luchador, Arianwyn Rivenstone and the current European champion Janus. Pool B contains the wrestlers... Mike Van Siclen, Chris Card, the sick Dace Night and the best wrestler in the federation, Spike Jenkins!” exclaims King.

 

An awkward silence comes over the commentary position.

 

“... what?” asks King.

 

“Oh, nothing, I’m just surprised you successfully compiled a sentence that was fully understandable and actually added something to the call...” sarcastically remarks Axis.

 

“Really? Thanks,” replies King.

 

King thinks for a second.

 

“Hey hey hey! I’m the one who throws the insults around here! Not you, sheddy!” angrily responds King, realising he’s been payed out!

 

“Yeah yeah, anyway... the matches in the title tournament are as follows... from Pool A, Crow vs Insane Luchador and Arianwyn Rivenstone vs Janus. From Pool B, the matches are Mike Van Siclen vs Spike Jenkins and Chris Card vs Dace Night. The winner of the matches from Pool A will face each other on the next show, and the same applies for Pool B,” explains Axis.

 

“Surprisingly well explained. Now, for god’s sake start the show!” shouts King.

 

As if the men and women backstage hear the cry of The Suicide King, an explosion of song bursts through the arena speakers....

 

“WAIT FOR CHAOS! WAIT FOR WARFARE! AT THE POINT OF NO RETURN! BLEED FOR MONEY! BLEED FOR JUSTICE! GOING STRAIGHT TO HELL WITH A WOUNDED SOUL!!!”

 

...signalling the beginning of Soilwork’s thrash metal hit Natural Born Chaos and notifying the jam-packed Birmingham NEC arena that Crow, The Antichrist Superstar, is coming. Crow walks out from behind the entrance, without cigarette in hand and a t-shirt on his chest. The crowd boos and jeers the Antichrist Superstar, hating him just as much as the crowds in the United States of America.

 

“Where’s the smoke, King? Think he’s quit?” asks Axis.

 

Just as Axis finishes asking his question, Crow pulls a cigarette out from behind his ear and lights it up with his trusty lighter.

 

“Answer your question, Axis?” replies King.

 

Crow takes a drag as he scans the crowd, thinking to himself, a new country... a new crowd to piss off. He continues smoking his cigarette as he walks down to the ring, looking around to find the right place to put out his cigarette.

 

“Crow is walking around a little gingerly after being powerbombed through a glass tube covered table at Malice In Wonderland. He has many, many wounds on his back and that is why you can see he is wearing a shirt tonight,” says Axis.

 

“And what a lovely shirt it is too... Vestal Masturbation... how lovely,” responds King.

 

Crow approaches the commentary table.

 

“You guys wouldn’t happen to have an ashtray or something would ya? For some reason, none of these crowd members have the look of those I like to piss off. Must be cause they’re not American or something,” politely (!) asks Crow.

 

“King’s American...” says Axis.

 

“Ssssshhh! Shut uuuppp!” retorts King, not wanting anything of his soiled.

 

“Yeah well anyway, we do anyway, here...” replies Axis giving Crow the ashtray.

 

“Cheers,” responds Crow.

 

Crow takes a final drag of his cigarette and puts it out on the ashtray. Axis puts the ashtray on the commentary table and Crow enters the ring.

 

“I felt the hate rise up in me, kneel down and clear the stone of leaves. I wonder out where you can’t see, inside my shell I wait and bleed...”

 

The opening vocal lines of Slipknot’s “Wait And Bleed” burst onto the sound system and darkness falls upon the arena.

 

“Hold me, Axis!” screams King.

 

A singular strobe light begins to flash and an explosion of pyrotechnics lights up the arena!

 

“AAAAHHH!!! AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! AH AH AH AAAHHHHHH!!!” screams King in shock!

 

Colours of black and red fly through the air!

 

“Get off me, you idiot,” yells Axis pushing King off him.

 

The pyrotechnics stop and the lights come back on at a dim, the Insane Luchador Andrew Rickmen charges through the entrance with chair in hand! He stops though... and doesn’t charge down to the ring. Instead, he stops... he holds the chair up high. Rickmen points to Crow and then points to the chair, as if to say you’re going to feel this tonight.

 

“Insane Luchador pulling a Babe Ruth sort of thing here,” says Axis.

 

“Babe Ruth? As if you Aussies know anything about Baseball,” cheekily replies King.

 

Insane Luchador runs his way down to the ring and places the chair underneath the turnbuckle. IL slides into the ring and plays to the crowd, a huge roar emanates from the fans! The bell rings and the two wrestlers circle around the ring.

 

“Palm and elbow tie up!” exclaims Axis.

 

A struggle ensues, with Crow taking the first advantage twisting Rickmen’s arm into an arm wrench. Crow applies more pressure to the arm wrench, twisting the arm around again. IL ducks under and counters with an arm wrench of his own! Crow rolls forward out of the arm wrench and applies another arm wrench, but no! IL rolls forward, using his arms as springs flips back onto his feet and applies a hammerlock on Crow!

 

“I’m dizzy, too much spinning, flipping and ducking,” says King.

 

Insane Luchador backs up into the ropes with hammerlock still on, except Crow grabs the back of IL’s head. Crow jumps up and flips IL over with a one-arm snapmare! IL is quick to his feet and ducks under a running Crow’s clothesline. Insane Luchador throws his arm around Crow’s neck and applies a headlock; he holds the headlock hard. Crow uses his weight to force the both of them back into the ropes, and he pushes IL off! IL bounces off the opposing ropes and shoulder blocks Crow to the ground!

 

“Big shoulder block from Insane Luchador, and this match is flying along at great pace,” reports Axis.

 

Rickmen turns left and bounces off the ropes. Crow rolls over, and IL steps over and tries to stop his run. Crow gets up and comes off the ropes, IL leapfrogs, and Crow jumps onto the top rope! Twisting Somersault Senton! No! Rickmen ducks under, he turns around and runs at Crow who just rolled onto his feet! Crow leap frogs and IL runs under him! IL jumps on the top rope, springboards off and hits a plancha on the Antichrist Superstar!

 

“This is fantastic wrestling we’re seeing... PLANCHA!” exclaims Axis.

 

No! Crow takes the plancha but quickly pushes IL off his body before a count could be made. Both men on their feet, arm drag by Crow! One straight back at him, arm drag by Rickmen! Crow kips up and throws his leg into the stomach of Insane Luchador.

 

“Oooh, and the Das Wunder Kick from Crow! Did you hear that connection, King?” queries Axis.

 

“No, I was too busy intently listening to the scratching of my finger nails against my ball sack,” responds King.

 

“...”

 

Headlock applied on IL, IL backs Crow and himself into the ropes. Push off! Crow runs to the opposing ropes, come off the ropes and hits IL with a shoulder block. Crow turns right and runs himself into the ropes. IL rolls over and lays low, Crow jumps over and comes off the ropes but a leapfrog by IL!

 

“I’m beginning to think these guys are frogs with the amount of leap frogs in this match...” says King.

 

Crow halts his wheels and turns around to see an Insane Luchador bouncing off the ropes... Crow tries for a tilt-a-whirl but no! IL spins out and counters with an arm drag! Crow up post haste and ducks under an IL clothesline, and comes off the ropes! Crow jumps up and wraps his legs around IL, trying to push him down to the mat with a Lou Thesz press! Except Insane Luchador catches Crow! But Crow puts his arm around IL’s neck and monkey flips him! NO! IL lands on his feet! Rickmen runs to the turnbuckle, jumps to the second rope on the right and then to the top on the left and springboards! IL clutches Crow’s head between his legs and whips him over with a double springboard hurricanrana!

 

“What a move! What wrestling, what a display!” screams Axis.

 

“Yes, that’s all well and good... but this is a hardcore match! Where is the hardcore!?” asks King.

 

There is a pin.

 

ONE!

 

...

 

TWO!

 

...

 

Crow kicks out!

 

IL claps his hands together suggesting that the count was too slow, but he doesn’t dwell on it for too long. Rickmen throws Crow out of the ring and grabs his chair that lies under the turnbuckle, where he placed it at the start of the match.

 

“I think Insane Luchador just answered your question, this match is going another way now!” shouts Axis.

 

IL steps through the ropes and waits on the apron.

 

“What is Insane Luchador doing here? He’s waiting the rise of Crow...” reports Axis.

 

IL with chair in hand intently eyes the rising Crow... Crow rising a little slowly after landing hard on his back... which, not to be forgotten, is covered with wounds. Crow is on his feet, IL throws the chair at him, and Crow reflexes automatically catch the chair! IL jumps off the apron and dropkicks the chair into Crow’s face!

 

“Dropkick to the chair! And Crow’s head was thrown back into the ground! Great stuff,” calls Axis.

 

“HARDCORE! HARDCORE!!” screams King.

 

IL picks the groggy Crow up from his dormant position on concrete floor and fires a right hand at his jaw! Crow, as if the punch woke him up, retaliates with a vessel bursting knife edge chop!

 

“WOOOOOOO!” yells the crowd, all in unison.

 

Rickmen fires a knife edge chop (!) back at the chest of Crow! Crow returns with another fiery chop and a war of knife edge chops ensues, the crowd wooooing along with each ear-splitting slap.

 

“OOOOH! A kick to the jewels from Crow! And it’s hardcore, so that doesn’t matter. No DQs,” says King.

 

The crowd boos and jeers like a funky monkey on crack.

 

“Looks like Rickmen’s jewels have been broken, I’ve never seen someone clutch their crotch like that before, oh, well except for you, King,” cheekily comments Axis.

 

Crow elbows the crotch holding luchador in the back of the head, and uppercuts his face! Crow, wanting to inflict more punishment locks the arms of IL under his armpits.

 

“I think I know what’s coming, Axis!” shouts King.

 

Crow gathers his strength and heaves Rickmen overhead onto the cold, hard concrete floor! A huge, resounding THWACK is heard as the body hits the mat.

 

“ENTRAPMENT SUPLEX!!! And this baby should be over!” screams Axis!

 

It would be over... it should be over... but it isn’t... why you ask? Because Crow isn’t making the cover.

 

“What’s Crow doing now? He just hit the Entrapment Suplex on Insane Luchador on the outside, but... he’s not going for the pin!” reports Axis, somewhat bewildered at Crow not going for the pin.

 

Crow walks over to the timekeeper’s table and the timekeeper gives a cigarette! He grabs his lighter and lights his fag up.

 

“He’s having a fag, Axis. Jeez, is it so hard to believe that he’d rather get his nicotine hit than win?” replies King.

 

“Yes! It is....... hey, what is he... OH MY GOD!!” shouts Axis.

 

The cries of Axis are echoed throughout the arena as Insane Luchador writhes and screams in pain! Crow puts out the cigarette on the cheek of IL!

 

“Oh my god! The pain! And Crow punches Rickmen in the jaw for good measure!” exclaims Axis.

 

“Once again, Axis. HARDCORE!!! HARDCORE!!!” yells King.

 

Crow walks over to the ring and throws up the curtain covering the bottom half of the ring. Out comes the petrol can!

 

“Axis! Axis! The petrol can! The petrol can! Flames! Remember the PPV!?” yells King.

 

“There aren’t any tables around though...” says Axis, before looking down and realising. Axis and King look at each other in horror!

 

“OOOH SSSSSSSHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!1” scream both Axis and King as Crow starts to douse the commentary table!

 

Crow gets out his lighter, and turns around to pick up the fallen Andrew Rickmen, but fallen he is no more as he hits a violent chair swing! And Crow flies straight down to the mat, dropping the lighter!

 

“Thank christ! I didn’t want to be burnt,” yells King.

 

Crow lands largely on the back of his head and blood starts to splutter from his forehead.

 

“And Crow is bleeding! And I ain’t gonna make this cute by saying something like crimson mask, cause when this guy bleeds, it is ugly,” conveys Axis.

 

IL has that look on his face... he picks up Crow’s lighter, lights it and begins to burn his arm! He’s giving himself a smiley! Burning a smiley face into his arm!

 

“What the fuck is he doing!? He’s burning himself!? Quick someone hit him with the chair he’s holding to stop him!” yells King.

 

“The Insane Luchador is truly INSANE, King!” responds Axis.

 

Rickmen just laughs as he severely burns the skin on his arm! He stops the burning, and looks at the fallen Crow who has turned onto his stomach... an idea springs to his mind. Insane Luchador grabs the neck of Crow’s shirt and rips it off his back, exposing an uncountable amount of bandages covering all the wounds. IL lifts the chair he holds up high in the air and brings it down on the back of Crow! Crow lets out a cry as pain surges through his body!

 

“Good god! That had to hurt!” yells Axis.

 

IL rips off the bandages on Crow’s back, exposing more medical work... soooo many stitches. IL brings the chair down again! And again! And again!

 

“JESUS CHRIST! RICKMEN IS CLAWING AT CROW’S STICHES! HE’S RIPPING THEM UP!” reports King, sounding as if he’s seen a ghost.

 

The Smarktron broadcasts a close up of what IL is doing to the back of Crow, and the crowd groans, sympathising with Crow, if you will.

 

“Oh my... I think I’m going to be sick...” says Axis.

 

“Pussy,” responds King.

 

“Fuck you, commie,” retorts Axis angrily.

 

The agonising cries of Crow are gut wrenching, but it does not seem to deter the insane one, Andrew Rickmen. He throws Crow onto his back and goes for a cover.

 

ONE!

 

...

 

TWO!

 

.

 

..

 

CROW KICKS OUT!

 

“Ok... how in the HELL did he do that, Axis!? I didn’t think even someone like me could kick out of that!” says King.

 

“So, Crow is better than you for kicking out of that?” queries Axis.

 

“What!? Are you an idiot or just Australian!?” angrily responds King.

 

“But you just sa... oh shut up, nevermind,” says Axis.

 

Insane Luchador doesn’t question the count this time, but instead grabs Crow’s hair and drags him along, and along... and along. They are approaching the elevation to the SJL Crimson stage... and they are on the stage near the entrance! Insane Luchador stops and let’s Crow fall to the ground, a sickly grin spreads across the face of Rickmen.

 

“Uh oh... I don’t like the looks of this, King,” comments Axis.

 

“Axis, please! Make sure that’s the only time you say that tonight!” retorts King.

 

Axis just looks at King in an odd way, but returns his focus to the match after a few seconds. IL has gone under the ring, searching for weapons.

 

“Oh my!’ shouts King.

 

“Glass light tubes... I think Crow is in bi...... how many does IL want to pick up!?” asks Axis, shocked.

 

“1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... ... 6 glass light tubes, this is going to be fun and bad at the same time! Come on, Crow!” yells King, thinking that Crow will hear him, when he will obviously not.

 

IL carries the six light tubes back to where Crow lies in pain, and places them near, for easy access. He holds onto one of them though, and puts it down in a feet few in front of him. Rickmen wrenches the body of Crow back onto its feet, and applies a tight full nelson on Crow! Looking to hit the Brink of Insanity on the glass light tube!

 

“Ow, that looks tight. I’d say as tight as that blonde I was banging last night...” cheekily smirks King.

 

“... you are unbelievable...” says Axis.

 

“Yeah, my skills in the area of getting some amaze the world,” replies King with a grin on his face.

 

IL tries to lock in the move harder, trying to set up a standing Brink of Insanity bulldog. But no! Crow breaks out of the hold and applies a waistlock, no! Rickmen counters with a waistlock of his own! Crow finding new life, throws an elbow back into the face of IL, but IL holds on! And another elbow from Crow! IL lets go of the hold, Crow turns around, and applies a front face lock on Rickmen!

 

“If Crow hits this suplex, it could be a turning point in the match up!” yells Axis.

 

Crow gathers his strength and heaves IL overheard...

 

...

 

NOOO! IL struggles out of it and hits a snap suplex on Crow!

 

“I don’t like the looks of this, King!” yells Axis.

 

“OH GOD I’M GONNA KILL YOU!” screams King.

 

IL holds onto the front face lock, and gets up... AND HITS A SNAP SUPLEX ON THE LIGHT TUBE! ON THE STAGE!

 

“Oh my god! Crow’s back is now even more cut up! I would not have thought it possible!” shouts Axis.

 

“There is only one thing I can say to that... Ow,” says King.

 

Insane Luchador gets the cover.

 

ONE!

 

...

 

TWO!

 

.

 

..

 

...

 

THR..... KICK OUT!!!

 

“... how did he do that? Crow is taking all IL is giving and is STILL kicking out, amazing..” reports Axis.

 

Rickmen is upset and turns his back to Crow to argue with the referee about a slow count.

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!? That was a three! A three, Matt!” yells Insane Luchador at referee.

 

As IL argues... Crow somehow... and in someway is pushing himself onto his feet, he stands though groggily and turns behind him.

 

“I am in awe, King,” says Axis.

 

There are 5 light tubes lying on the ground around 2 and a half feet away from him. Rickmen finally stops arguing with the referee and turns around to see Crow, on his feet standing looking directly at him. Insane Luchador runs at Crow....

 

...

 

BUT CROW DROPS DOWN AND LATCHES ONTO IL’S LEGS! DROP TOE HOLD! ON TO THE 5 LIGHT TUBES! FACE FIRST INTO THE LIGHT TUBES!

 

“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” screams the crowd.

 

Crow is not finished yet. He turns Rickmen over and puts him the sharpshooter!

 

“The Sharpshooter! The sharpshooter! Crow has got Rickmen in a sharpshooter on a pile of broken glass shards!” yells Axis.

 

“THAT IS NASTY SHIT, AXIS!” shouts King.

 

Crow screams as the fatigue settles in, supporting the weight of IL’s legs and driving his face and chest into the broken glass. Crow can’t support this weight any longer and has to let go... and that he does. He collapses to the ground... tired, so very tired.

 

...

 

A mad laughter is heard...

 

It’s Insane Luchador!

 

He’s pushing himself up and dropping himself back into the shards of broken glass!

 

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again... this guy is a fuckin’ maniac,” says King.

 

The crowd doesn’t know how to react, so they do what they know best, and cheer for the insanity riddled Andrew Rickmen. Crow turns his head back to see what the fuck is happening and his eyes open wide with shock and dismay.

 

“What... the..... fuck?” whispers Crow.

 

Crow pulls into his reserves and quickly rushes onto his feet, he picks up the repeatedly falling Insane Luchador... and applies a front face lock... he heaves him vertical! Crow sacrifices his back and falls backwards onto the broken glass, driving Rickmen’s head into the stage at a neck-breaking angle.

 

“NATURAL BORN CHAOS ON THE STAGE! AND INSANE LUCHADOR IS OUT! OUT COLD!” screams Axis.

 

Crow cries out in absolute agony as more and more glass enters his already delicate skin! Both men lie on the stage... IL is motionless, but Crow is showing signs of life with spasms of pain. A small amount of time passes and Crow crawls to his feet...

 

“It’s payback time...” says Crow.

 

Crow hauls the out cold body of IL down to the ring, and pushes it into the ring.

 

“And both men at in the ring, once again, for the first time in the match up since the beginning. Except, this time, they’re bleeding...... and bleeding, and bleeding some more. Crow is somehow standing, the amount of blood he has lost since entering this federation must be more than some wrestlers lose in an entire career,” reports Axis.

 

“I can’t believe this match, Axis. It’s just nasty...” conveys King.

 

Insane Luchador is lying motionless in the ring and shows no signs of recovering. Crow exits the ring and goes under the ring to find some more weapons to finish IL with.

 

“Look Axis, he’s got a pane of glass! ... and two chairs!?” reports King.

 

“I don’t like the looks of this, King,” responds Axis.

 

“STOP SAYING THAT, GODDAMN!” yells King.

 

Crow slides the weaponry into the ring, and slides himself in the ring. He sets up the two chairs, directly opposite each other.

 

“What the hell, King? He’s set up two chairs... near the turnbuckle... and... oh no!” shouts Axis, bewildered about what is to follow!

 

Crow places the pane of glass on top of the chairs, suspending the glass in the air, like a table! Crow walks over to the half dead IL, and lifts him up dead weight to his feet. Crow stands behind Rickmen, and places the arm of IL behind his neck. Crow grabs behind the knee of Rickmen, lifts him up and places him on the turnbuckle.

 

“... I’ve seen Crow do this before... not in the SJL, but in ICW. Fans, I can tell you... what you are about to see... words cannot describe,” conveys Axis.

 

Crow climbs up the ropes, and hooks his legs over the top ropes... Crow applies a waistlock, and heaves Insane Luchador Andrew Rickmen overhead!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1” explodes from every single member of the crowd!

 

“HOLY SHIT! CROW JUST HIT A SPIDER GERMAN SUPLEX ON RICKMEN THROUGH A GLASS PANE!!! THIS MATCH IS OVER!”

 

Mixed chants of “HOLY SHIT!” and “I! C! DUB!” echo throughout the arena as Crow dislodges himself from the tree of woe the move left him in. He puts his arm over IL!

 

ONE!

 

...

 

TWO!

 

.

 

 

..

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

“Crow wins the match up! Crow wins the match! He now goes through to the next round of the SJL World Title Tournament against the winner or Arianwyn Rivenstone and the European champion, Janus!” yells Axis.

 

“That match was great! Even without the presence of Natasha on commentary, the match was great!” replies King.

 

Medical teams rush to both Andrew Rickmen and Crow, who are both badly cut on various parts of their bodies. Two medical doctors help Crow to his feet, but he stops them, turns around and looks towards the timekeeper. The timekeeper nods and chucks Crow his pack of smokes. Crow grabs a cigarette and asks for a lighter...

 

“Fans, you just saw a gutsy effort from both superstars. Both wrestlers rising above all known pain to deliver a great match. And I think it’s time to take an ad break. We’ll be back soon,” says Axis.

 

“An ad break? I wonder if they’ll show that weedwha...” begins King, before being cut off by the camera fading out.

[Guest realitycheck]

The cameras cut backstage, to the ever irritating Ben Hardy and his lovable cameraman Gus, as they trek through the backstage corridors searching out a particular dressing room. Pausing outside one door, Hardy looks up at the nametag that's there for this show only.

 

-Janus-

 

Politely, Hardy rapped on the door.

 

-

 

Inside, the seven footer stood silently, head bowed as if thinking. Only the sharpest of observers would spot the headphones plugged into his ears, but the stereo next to him was painfully obvious. It was a small, portable affair, and the CD in it was spinning at full speed.

 

~"And here we are, we're the Princes of the Universe....here we belong...fighting for survival!"~

 

Do I really belong? Is the question that ran through the giant's head. Sighing and taking the headphones from his ears, Janus stepped over to the door upon hearing the knocking, and opened it, tenuous good mood evaporating at the sight of Hardy. His voice a low growl, he spoke.

 

Janus: "What do you want?"

 

Hardy: "Uh...just a few words! About your thoughts on your Pay-Per-View win, and tonight!"

 

Janus: "I won at the Pay-Per-View. That's all that matters. And tonight, I willl win again."

 

Hardy: "And the title?"

 

Janus frowned after a moment, as if seriously contemplating, then staring at Hardy with eyes that seemed made of chipped green ice.

 

Janus: "I will go the distance and win the World Title. Then I will hold the gold of the Junior League in my grasp and prove I am the best in this league..."

 

Ignoring Hardy after that statement, Janus made to close the door, but the irritable reporter leaned in, faintly hearing the song playing from the headphones of the stereo, and getting another question.

 

Hardy: "Does it bother you at all that you're the only Magnificent Se.....URK!"

 

At the words from Hardy's mouth, Janus physically hoists him off the ground and steps out of the dressing room, slamming Hardy roughly into the wall.

 

Janus: "I am the sole member of the Junior League branch, yes. It does not bother me in the least. I will prove I am fit to be in the Magnificent Seven, and I may find others who are worthy!"

 

He drops Hardy to the ground and snorts, turning back to go into his dressing room, glancing at Gus and the camera for a long moment. With a grim expression and a low growl, he slams the door shut.

[Guest realitycheck]

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome BACK to Smarks Junior Leagues Crimson!” Our cameras zoom in on the commentary table, where Axis sits next to the Suicide King. The Birmingham, England crowd roars behind the Australian giant as the big man rambles on. “Tonight marks the beginning of the SJL World title tour and tournament, and already tonight we’ve seen Crow and Insane Luchador have an absolute bloodbath for a shot at the Smarks Junior Leagues title – a title vacated earlier this week by Wildchild as a result of his bump to the Smarks Wrestling Federation!”

 

“This is true, Axis,” King interjects. “Wildchild doesn’t care enough about this league to keep his title, but his ignorance will be another man’s reward! And that man could easily be one of tonight’s two competitors – ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins or Mike Van Siclen.”

 

“That’s right, King. Van Siclen has dropped off of the radar as of late, suffering loss upon loss since his return victory over C4. His fire could be relit at any point, though, a factor that one cannot overlook when making predictions for this match.”

 

“That’s true, Axis,” King shoots back. “But on the other hand, Van Siclen is faced with the problem of shaking off his ring rust against the Junior League’s hottest superstar as of late, ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins. Jenkins has been on a tear as of late, making Chris Card, Janus, and even the league-non-carer himself, Wildchild, all victims of his burning hot streak.”

 

“While you have a point, King, I have a counterpoint – Spike Jenkins is coming off of a defeat, to Dace Night in Damnation in a Box at Malice in Wonderland.”

 

“I’ll give you a counterpoint – Jenkins will most likely be hellaciously pissed after that loss, and he’ll be taking out all of that aggression on Mike Van Siclen.”

 

“Here’s a counterpoint, King – Spike Jenkins fell victim to a sheer drop brainbuster and a Psycho Driver at Malice in Wonderland, both moves that target the neck. Now, let’s take a look at Van Siclen’s offence… it all targets the neck. Now you tell me who’s got the advantage.”

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, this contest is scheduled for ONE fall, and is match number two in the World Title Tournament!”

 

The metal beats of "King of Your Own World" by Smugface blast over the loudspeaker, as gold sparks rise up from under the entrance area. After several seconds, "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins walks out from behind the entrance curtain, stepping into the gold sparks. After a few seconds of Spike just standing there, Spike breathes in some of the sparks, and exhales through his nose, as smoke fills up over his face. Spike steps through the sparks, as they slowly die down behind him.

 

“I think it’s this man, Axis!” King shouts with glee.

 

“Introducing first!” Funyon’s voice rises above the cheering crowd. “Weighing in at two-hundred and twenty pounds, this competitor hails from Hollywood, California! He’s on fire, he’s hotter than a two dollar pistol, he’s the King of the World, and he is Hollywood personified because he is SPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN-KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINS!”

 

Spike walks down the entrance way, looking around the audience as they cheer him slightly, honoring him for his match against Dace Night. Spike walks around the ring up to the steel steps, and climbs up to the ring apron, walking into the center of the ring, looking out into the audience. Normally he would stretch, but on this night his body is still recovering from Damnation in a Box. He doesn’t think he could speak if he could, so he doesn’t dare talk trash, merely sits down on the turnbuckle, waiting for his opponent to arrive.

 

“Well, I suppose this is as good a time as any, eh King?”

 

“You’ve got it, Axis. Ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s Tale of the Tape™ is brought to you by Avril Lavigne and Britney Spears! We don’t want a lawsuit, so we’re telling you to buy many Avril and Britney CDs!”

 

The familiar yellow graphic appears on screen, Hollywood’s face in the top left corner of the screen and Van Siclen’s in the bottom right, the bars going through the middle with each man’s stats on them.

 

“As you can see, King, Van Siclen is two inches taller, seventeen pounds heavier, has a greater reach by about nine inches, and can bench 50 more pounds than Jenkins can. King, Van Siclen has all these advantages without factoring in Jenkins’ many injuries. Do you think that Hollywood even has a chance?”

 

“I don’t know, Axis. That’s irrefutable evidence, but Jenkins has the desire to aspire, and that’s a very powerful fuel.”

 

"I shut 'em down..."

 

The lights go down all over the arena as the sounds of "Shut 'Em Down (Suicide Spin remix)" by LL Cool J pulse throughout the arena, a lone blue spotlight shining down on the entrance ramp, where Mike Van Siclen stands coldly, his eyes burning with competitive fire.

 

”And his opponent! Weighing in at two-hundred thirty-seven pounds, he hails from Harrison, Illinois! He is amazing, he is the Harrison Hitman, he is MIIIIIIIIIIKE VA-AN SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC-LEEEEEEEEEEEEN!”

 

Mike walks up the steps, stepping through them and into the ring. He goes to his corner, stretching as he waits for the bell, which referee Nick Soapdish calls for upon Mike’s arrival.

 

-=: Ding Ding Ding :=-

 

Van Siclen and Jenkins both step out of their corners, staring coldly at each other. Van Siclen bounces around a bit, hyping himself up while staring intently at the scars on Spike’s forehead from taking the Sheer Drop Brainbuster onto a chair. Van Siclen can also clearly remember the weed whacker, the Psycho Driver… all of these moves ring fresh in Van Siclen’s mind as he stares at Jenkins… and like that, charges Hollywood. Jenkins charges right back, and the two lock up collar-and-elbow style. Van Siclen gains the quick advantage, grabbing Jenkins around the neck and forcing his stomach into a knee. Jenkins, still feeling the effects of the weed whacker, clutches his stomach in pain, and Van Siclen takes over, grabbing Spike by the hair and using the ages-old heel tactic of throwing him forward as hard as he can, sending Jenkins straight to the mat, the neck impacting first. Jenkins clutches his neck in pain as Van Siclen quickly takes over, dashing to the ropes and bouncing off to drop the knee across Jenkins’ throat. Van Siclen drops down for the quick pinfall, and Soapdish drops to make the count.

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“TH-TWO COUNT!”

 

“Van Siclen nearly gets the three count early there, and it’s obvious that Jenkins is not at 100%,” Axis says.

 

“It is,” King replies, “But at the same time Jenkins has so much desire to win this match and the title that he will do almost anything to get it, even if it involves killing himself in the process.”

 

Van Siclen stands up, staring down at Jenkins’ body and lifting Hollywood to his feet. The Amazin’ One grabs Hollywood by the arm and whips him into the corner, following Holly and catching him with a shoulder to the gut. Wood wretches forward, still feeling the weedwhacker shot, and Mike grabs him in this kneeling state and drapes him over the second rope. Van Siclen salutes the crowd mockingly, the people booing Mike as he runs to the other side of the ring, bouncing off the ropes and charging back at Jenkins. He lifts his left leg high and leaps a tad, landing with his leg across Holly’s back/neck! Hollywood goes to fall back, but Mike stays on top of him, pulling back on the rope to choke Wood. Soapdish, noticing the blatant cheating, goes to count MVS out.

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THREE!”

 

“FOUR!”

 

“FI-“ Van Siclen backs away, with a sleazy ‘did-I-do-that?’ expression on his face. The crowd boos as Holly spits out at the floor, obviously feeling some minor repercussions from the throat attacks. He struggles to his feet as our dynamic duo comment on the happenings.

 

“Van Siclen using some classic cheating there, eh, King?”

 

“Yes, it looks like he’s been snatching out of my book. I never knew he had it in him.”

 

Van Siclen goes over to the ropes where Holly stands, grabbing Jenkins by the hair and forcing his throat against the top rope! Soapdish counts again!

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THREE!”

 

“FOUR!”

 

“FI-“ Van Siclen once again backs away, the British crowd getting restless and a slight “BOR-ING!” chant starting, but Van Siclen refuses to pay attention. He instead grabs the Woodster by the hair, yanking him to about mid-ring and grabbing Jenkins by the left arm. Mike dashes forward, looking to wrap Hollywood’s arm around his own neck… but Spike ducks, spinning around so that he now has Van Siclen by the arm! He pulls himself a bit closer to Mike and knees Van Siclen in the gut, doubling Mike over. Hollywood swiftly lifts up his left leg, wrapping it over-top of Mike’s neck and then lifting his other leg, causing Father Gravity to take over and bring Hollywood’s mass to the mat, with Mike’s neck trapped underneath it! Hollywood grabs his stomach, which is impacted slightly from his crash-ass-landing on the mat, but quickly stands up, preparing for his next move.

 

“Mike dominates the pace early, but Hollywood seems to have reversed the tempo with that Rocker Dropper on Van Siclen!”

 

“Yes, but Hollywood is still hurting from Damnation in a Box, and you’d better believe that fatigue will catch up to him sooner rather than later.”

 

“…didn’t you want Hollywood to win a few minutes ago?”

 

“People change.”

 

Small beads of sweat drip off Hollywood’s head as he stares at Van Siclen, both hands on his knees as he intently waits for Van Siclen to stand up. Mike gets to his feet, shaking a bit from the Rocker Dropper, and Hollywood attempts to take advantage of this, bouncing off the ropes and coming back, dashing past Van Siclen and grabbing him around the neck to take him down with a running neckbreaker! This move impacts Holly too, though, as Wood grabs his neck in pain from where Mike’s head jarred it. Van Siclen, meanwhile, gets to his feet. He sees Hollywood on the ground, writhing in pain, and grins hugely.

 

“Hollywood hits the running neckbreaker, but it backfires on Jenkins, hurting him almost as much as it did Van Siclen!”

 

“And look – Van Siclen is standing from the move, while Holly is still clutching his neck. And you said that Spike had reversed the tempo.”

 

“I still think he has, King.”

 

Van Siclen grabs Hollywood, lifting the smaller man to his feet and whipping him into the ropes, catching the stoner on the way back with a slick Powerslam! Van Siclen grins as he kicks Holly’s body a bit, making him parallel to the ring post as Mike walks over to the post and climbs it.

 

“Van Siclen climbing the top rope. What could he want up there?”

 

“I can take a guess. Can you, Axis?”

 

Van Siclen is about to answer all questions, leaping off of the ropes with a voracious force! He puts his legs straight out, splitting them apart with his right leg ready to slice down across Jenkins’ neck, just like a guillotine… SMACK!

 

“VAN SICLEN GUILLOTINE! Mike Van Siclen may have just broken Spike Jenkins’ neck!”

 

“No, see, Mike didn’t break his neck. That wouldn’t hurt. Mike wants to make this pain last, make it keep going, make Spike feel it tomorrow and the next day.”

 

“…I thought the point was to win the match.”

 

Van Siclen removes his leg from Jenkins’ neck, Spike clutching his jugular in pain as Mike falls on top of him, pinning both shoulder down to the mat as Soapdish goes to make the count.

 

“ONE!”

 

”TWO!”

 

“THR-TWO COUNT!”

 

Van Siclen, obviously expecting the two count, merely smiles grimly and stands up, pulling Hollywood to his feet and grabbing Wood by the neck and shoulders, showing some subtle psychology as he puts Spike into a standing headscissors! The crowd erupts in boos, knowing what is next as Van Siclen grabs Jenkins around the midsection and hoists him up high into the air, Hollywood’s legs on Van Siclen’s shoulders in perfect position for a powerbomb… but Spike falls back! His back and neck arches, Hollywood letting out a scream of determined pain as he wraps his legs around Mike’s neck and flips the Amazin’ one forward, flat onto his back with a Hurricanrana! Hollywood grabs his neck, the arching of it in the Hurricanrana adding even more pain, but still scurries over for his first pinfall attempt of the night.

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“TH-TWO COUNT!” Van Siclen makes the kickout, and Hollywood grabs Van Siclen’s mop, lifting him up to prepare for his second stint on offense.

 

“Hollywood takes over again with a nice Hurricanrana reversal out of a powerbomb, but King, can Hollywood keep up any sort of pressure?”

 

“Gee, I think I said that a few seconds ago. Is there an echo in here or something?”

 

Hollywood grabs Van Siclen, putting his hands on Mike’s shoulders and kicking the Amazin’ one in the gut repeatedly, sending him to his knees. Jenkins lets go of Van Siclen, backing up a bit before catching Van Siclen with a stiff kick to the chest! And another! Hollywood backs up once again, allowing Van Siclen to partially regain his bearings as the Amazin’ one stumbles to his feet… and right into a stiff knock out kick to the face from Jenkins! Van Siclen falls backwards like he’s been shot, and Spike pounces on Mike’s body for the fall!

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THRE-NO!” The crowd, roaring right up to the three, thinks that Jenkins has somehow picked up the fall… but Soapdish’s emphatic washout gesture assures that Van Siclen kicked out. Jenkins, the roar of the crowd spurring him on, grabs Soapdish, yelling at him “I GOT HIM! I’M THE KING OF THE WORLD, DAMMIT, YOU DON’T MISCOUNT ROYAL PINFALLS!”

 

“Jenkins seems a bit pissed with that call,” observes Axis.

 

“Yeah, and if he keeps acting like a f**kwit, someone’s gonna knock him out, probably Van Siclen.”

 

Jenkins, obviously frustrated, grabs Van Siclen roughly by the scruff of the neck and lifts the Amazin’ one to his feet. Van Siclen smacks his arm away, but Jenkins catches him with a vicious-looking knee to the gut, only slightly wincing in pain. He smashes Van Siclen with a huge forearm to the back, sending the Amazin’ one face-first to the mat. Mike tries to push himself up, but Spike is right there with a vicious boot to the back to send Mike back down. Jenkins stares out at the crowd, looking positively Rockish as he runs to the ropes, running back and spinning around in midair to drop a sweet leg across Van Siclen’s neck! Just like Mike earlier, Spike swings his leg off to turn himself around and drapes himself over Van Siclen for the pin attempt.

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THRE-TWO COUNT!”

 

Van Siclen again makes the kickout, and the Birmingham crowd is getting pissed, a “Mik-ey SUCKS!” chant leading into a “LET’S GO HOL-LY-WOOD!” *clapclapclap* chant.

 

“This crowd is firmly behind Hollywood, King, and through all his injuries it looks like Hollywood’s gonna deliver!”

 

“This crowd might be firmly behind him, but this announcer is firmly against him. Mike can pull out the win right here, with Hollywood’s second wind peaking. If Mike can hold steady through the storm, I’m sure he’ll get the duke.”

 

Hollywood lifts Van Siclen up to his feet, grabbing Mike by the arm and looking to whip him into the ropes! Hollywood extends his arm, hopping with power… but Mike dances around Jenkins and whips Spike into the ropes! Jenkins runs into them acceptingly, hopping up onto the second one and bouncing back, catching Mike in the jaw with a springboard back kick! The crowd erupts as Mike wobbles around, barely standing up! Hollywood, sensing the kill here, dashes over to Mike and wraps one arm around the Amazin’ one’s neck, in perfect position for a Rock Bottom! He looks for the lift and slam… but Van Siclen drops to his knees before Hollywood has the chance to do so! The crowd erupts in boos, but these boos turn to cheers as Hollywood bounces off the ropes as fast as he can, coming back as Mike has one knee up! Jenkins hops onto the knee and wraps his other leg around Van Siclen’s head, hitting him with a knee to the scalp, a Shining Black!

 

“Jenkins looks for the Highlighter after a springboard kick, but Van Siclen drops to his knees… only to be hit with a Shining Black!”

 

“As I said before though, Axis, how much longer do you think Jenkins can keep up this momentum? Only so long, before all the injuries start to weigh him down and Van Siclen can overtake him.”

 

Jenkins stands up, his entire six-foot-one-inch frame wired like a computer as he makes the universal “GET UP!” motion. The crowd roars for the taunt, a “HIGH-LIGHT-ER!” chant starting as Van Siclen slowly gets to his feet. Spike turns sideways, stamping his feet as the crowd’s chant changes to “SUP-ER-KICK!” and Van Siclen stands up, obviously shaking the cobwebs out. Jenkins flies forward, lashing his foot out at where Van Siclen’s head would be… if he hadn’t dove at Jenkins’ other leg! Spike topples, off-balance, to the mat, his other leg snapping down as Van Siclen rolls out of the way. Mike stands up, now, brushing his hair back as the crowd boos the cheap tactic. Van Siclen now does the “GET UP!” motion, and Spike obliges, checking his neck a bit and shaking it before sitting up, pushing himself to his feet.

 

“Jenkins looks for the Superkick, but Van Siclen manages to take out Spike’s other leg and dodge the Superkick!”

 

“An excellent strategy from Van Siclen. He has seen that move done so many times over the last few weeks that he knows exactly how to dodge it, and he implemented his plan right there.”

 

Jenkins charges Mike, looking for the running neckbreaker but getting a knee to the ribs for his troubles. Jenkins doubles over, nearly toppling over, and Van Siclen takes advantage, grabbing Jenkins with his right arm and putting Hollywood in DDT position! The crowd erupts in boos as Van Siclen raises one arm, signaling for the Code Red! Mike wastes no time in swiftly transitioning, going from a crowd taunt to a crowd infuriator as he spins around, grabbing Jenkins’ head in his left arm and hopping forward, driving Jenkins’ head into the mat with a vicious Code Red! Jenkins grabs his neck, kicking out in pain as Van Siclen rolls him over and makes the cover!

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THR-TWO!” Jenkins gets a shoulder up, and an incensed Van Siclen, thinking he got the pin, slams Jenkins’ shoulder back to the mat and glares Soapdish into counting another fall!

 

“ONE!”

 

”TWO!”

 

“THRE-TWO!” Jenkins kicks out this time, and Van Siclen grabs Jenkins by the hair, lifting Hollywood to his feet.

 

“Van Siclen looks a bit angry that the Code Red didn’t get the fall. Why is that, King?”

 

“He wasn’t angry, Axis. Van Siclen made two consecutive pinfall attempts as a way of decreasing Jenkins’ energy level. There are few things in this sport that take more effort than kicking out, and Jenkins just had to do it twice in a row.”

 

Van Siclen is saved from Axis’ scathing tongue as he grabs Hollywood by the arm, whipping Jenkins into the ropes and snapping him over quickly as he comes back, laying Spike out with a nasty-looking Powerslam. Van Siclen, naturally, keeps the hold on, pulling the leg back in an attempt to get the fall.

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THR-TWO!” Spike gets the shoulder up, and Van Siclen stands, hoisting Jenkins to his feet. Mike, a venomous sparkle in his eye, lifts Jenkins to his feet. The crowd can sense something dangerous about to happen and Mike is more than willing to give them (and Holly) just that. He goes behind Wood, wrapping both of his arms around Jenkins’ waist and hoisting him up into the air… only to send him crashing back down to the canvas, his head and neck making a sick impact! All of the Damnation in a Box injuries come flooding back as Hollywood grabs his neck, the immense pain equal to thousands of drills on his neck. Van Siclen, thinking it’s over, crawls over to Jenkins for the pinfall.

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THRE-NO!” Jenkins, through all his pain, still gets the shoulder up, and the crowd roars appreciatively! Mike looks up, releasing his half-hold on Jenkins and looking directly into the camera as if to say “why”. Obviously upset, Van Siclen picks Jenkins up.

 

“Van Siclen gets OH so close to the pin with that German, but Jenkins manages to get the kick-out through all of that neck pain!”

 

“That he does, Axis, and while I’m mildly impressed with Jenkins’ grittiness, I’m much more impressed with Mike’s ruthlessness in pursuing the win. Bravo to him, taking control of his own destiny like that.”

 

King golf claps a bit, much to Axis’ disgust, while in-ring Van Siclen whips Jenkins into the ropes, bending over in obvious hope for the Van Slaminator. Jenkins comes back, knowing he is being set up for Van Siclen’s finishing move but seeing a way out. As he gets closer, he leaps over Van Siclen, grabbing Mike by the midsection and looking to knock him down with a Sunset Flip! Mike stumbles a bit, not wanting to go down… but Jenkins’ desire is too great, and he puts Mike on his back! Soapdish makes the count!

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THRE-TWO COUNT!” Van Siclen rolls backwards, winding up on his feet and with his momentum carrying him to the ropes. He bounces off of them, Jenkins getting to his feet as Mike comes flying at him, spinning overtop in midair and catching Jenkins straight in the jaw with a spinning Wheelkick! Jenkins topples over backwards, and Van Siclen stands up, leaning against the ropes and envisioning his next moves in his mind.

 

“Van Siclen looks for the Van Slaminator, but it very nearly backfires on him as Jenkins reverses it into a Sunset Flip!”

 

“Indeed Jenkins does, but Mike kicks out and re-asserts himself as the dominant one in this match with a Spinning Wheelkick. And you think he’s going to lose, Axis?”

 

Van Siclen grabs Jenkins by the hair and lifts Hollywood to his feet. Mike grabs Spike and thrusts him into a standing headscissors; the entire crowd booing Mike save for a select few fans named “Van Siclen’s Death Row”, which begins to chant “RI-OT ACT! RI-OT ACT!” Mike nods to them as he lifts Jenkins up by the waist, his legs around Mike’s neck and his entire body parallel to Mike’s body, though he is upside down. Van Siclen steps over Jenkins’ legs, causing Spike to face straight forward as Van Siclen calls out “DEATH ROW!” The aptly named fans yell back “RIOT ACT!”, and Van Siclen smiles as he falls straight to his knees, driving Spike’s head into the mat with a brutal variant on the Styles Clash that Mike Van Siclen has aptly named the Riot Act! Van Siclen lets go of Spike’s midsection and Hollywood falls straight forward, landing on his face as he grabs his neck, the pain to it obvious as Van Siclen stands up, brushing the hair out of his face and grinning evilly, basking in the “EAT A DICK” chants the crowd dishes at him.

 

“RIOT ACT! RIOT ACT ON SPIKE JENKINS!”

 

“Van Siclen reads Jenkins the Riot Act, as my partner so eloquently put it. This has to be the final nail in the little b*st*rd’s coffin, as Mike will surely get the pin or tap here.”

 

Out of nowhere, Dace Night comes dashing out of the crowd! His hometown fans erupt as Van Siclen sees Dace and stares at him angrily, making a very rude gesture and telling him to “F**K OFF!” Dace merely shakes his head and yells back, “I’m not here for you.” Mike looks at him, a bit confused, but suddenly he realizes that Spike is down and out and he should get the pin. He drops down, covering Spike and looking for the fall.

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“TH…

 

R…

 

E…

 

 

 

 

E!”

 

-=: Ding Ding Ding :=-

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, YOUR winner, via pinfall, and moving on in the Smarks Junior Leagues WORLD title tournament… MIIIIIIKE VA-AN SIIIIIC-LEEEEEN!”

 

The crowd explodes in boos as Van Siclen kicks Spike, knocking him out of the ring and right into Dace Night! Night pounds on Spike for a bit, throwing him over the barricade and following him through the crowd, beating him all the way to the exit. Van Siclen looks at Spike walking away… and then raises both arms in the air as the crowd jeers at him, chanting nasty words as he celebrates his win in the ring.

 

“An excellent match, Van Siclen pulling out then win and then tossing Spike to the wolf known as Dace Night.”

 

“I told. You so. In case. You didn’t know.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“I told..”

 

“We’ll be back from Birmingham, folks, right after this!”

[Guest realitycheck]

There's a HUGE roar of approval from the crowd as SJL Crimson comes back from commercial, although with the recent bumpage of several of the top superstars in the league, the signs seem to be rather lacking. Except for the overwhelming number pertaining to Dace Night, such as "Ultraviolence = Dace", "DACE F'N NIGHT", among others. The camera finally pans over to the ring, where a steel cage has been lowered. Funyon stands near the timekeeper's table, and the camera then flicks over to everyone's favourite announcing duo.

 

Axis: "Welcome back to SJL Crimson everybody, where we're just starting our world tour here in Birmingham England!"

 

Suicide King: "This tour's gonna cost us a lot of money, but the checks we'll get in return will make up for that!"

 

Axis: "Is money all you think about?"

 

Suicide King: "No, it's second. Underneath women."

 

Axis sighs and shakes his head as Funyon lifts his microphone from where he stands. The crowd pops for the announcer as he speaks.

 

Funyon: "Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest...is a non-title.....STEEL CAGE MATCH! This match is a part of the World Title Tournament, and the winner will move on to face his or her next opponent in the corresponding bracket. Victory is only assured by escaping the cage, and BOTH feet must touch the floor! There are no pinfalls, no submissions, and no disqualifications!"

 

The fans cheer again for the stipulation, then quieten as Lacuna Coil's "Aeon" begins to play over the speakers, coinciding with the extinguishing of every single light in the arena. The Smarktron flashes up images of a stormy night over an old castle, and a moon with a Celtic cross shadowing it, and then the crowd boos as Arianwyn Rivenstone steps out onto the ramp. With the ramp itself lighting her way, the female superstar begins to make her way down to ringside as Funyon makes his announcement.

 

Funyon: "Introducing first! Hailing from Swords, Ireland, and weighing in at one hundred and sixty one pounds! She is a member of the Disciples of Discord....ladies and gentlemen.....ARIAAAAAAANWYYYN RIIIIIVENSTOOOOONE!"

 

As Arianwyn steps up to the cage, running a hand along it and stopping at the door, the darkness gives way to a deep red light, that covers everything in a bloody hue. Finally, Arianwyn steps into the ring and removes her skirt, revealing her wrestling attire as she paces the ring, staring at the entrance ramp intently as Axis and the Suicide King comment - the deep red light slowly brightens to whiteness, and then the normal lighting of the arena.

 

Axis: "Arianwyn came off a nasty tables match at our first SJL Pay-Per-View, Malice in Wonderland the other day."

 

Suicide King: "When tables get involved, you're damn STRAIGHT it's going to turn nasty!"

 

Axis: "She has her mind focused on this match, much like anyone else though, King. Whoever wins this progresses in the tournament for a chance to hold the title! And a steel cage match ensures nobody interferes or escapes."

 

The lighting in the arena drops out once more, causing the crowd to mumble and boo, as not many superstars have a light-killing entrance, and those that do are either very popular or very hated. As the haunting sounds of the beginning of the song fill the arena for several moments, the ramp becomes awash with dark blue light as pyros spray up into the air, as a voice quietly sings the first verse of the song.

 

Consumed with memories...

That preceded today...

Given a chance to bereave...

Life that's slipping AWAY!

 

As the heavy chords of Fear Factory's "Resurrection" boom out over the speakers, a spotlight shines into life pointed directly at the stage entrance as a gloved hand pushes the curtain aside to reveal the massive bulk of Janus, complete with European Title around his waist! He throws his hair from his face, ignoring the boos from the fans as he strides down the ramp, the sprinkling blue pyros illuminating his way until he passes them, which is when they go out. He's tracked by the spotlight as Funyon clears his throat and announces.

 

Funyon: "And her opponent.....weighing in at three hundred and fifty pounds, hailing from Sydney Australia!! He is a member of the Magnificent Seven, Winner of Mall Brawl Four, and the S...J....L...EUROOOOOPEAAAAAAAN CHAMPION! He is none other than.....JAAAAANUS!"

 

The seven footer stops at the side of the cage, pulling off his European title and pushing it into the arms of a referee, staring through the open door at Arianwyn before slowly ascending the stairs and stepping over the top rope. His female opponent backs away a little, showing no fear, as Janus stands in the ring, lit only by the spotlight, and he lifts his arms into the air.

 

*BOOOOM!*

 

Great bursts of blue fire blast from the ringposts, as the lights return to normal and Fear Factory's "Resurrection" fades out. The referee outside the ring puts the European title on the timekeeper's desk and runs back to lock the cage door.

 

Axis: "Janus is coming off a hot roll here. He won the European title from the thought-to-be-undefeatble Ejiro Fasaki early on in his career, and just recently he came off as the WINNER in the Mall Brawl at Malice in Wonderland!"

 

Suicide King: "No kidding, the big guy's got talents. Siding with Ejiro and Fugue is probably the best decision he ever made."

 

Axis: "But why? Why did he? He's aggressive, true, but the fans loved his 'good guy' attitude! What went wrong?"

 

Suicide King: "He got a dose of common sense."

 

Having locked the door of the cage, referee Sexton Hardcastle nods his head and waves to the timekeeper, who rings the bell to start the match. Neither of the superstars move for several moments, as they measure each other up. Arianwyn seems to favour her movements ever so slightly, while Janus cracks his knuckles and appears to be in top form. The female superstar inches forward, and lets loose a taunting slap at Janus' face! The giant bats her arm aside though, and locks a hand around her throat, choking for a moment....before letting her go.

 

Axis: "What the.....just getting each other's measure there, it seems...."

 

Suicide King: "Janus came out in top form from the Mall Brawl, so he's good to go......Arianwyn....."

 

Axis: "She got put through a flaming table, and with the burns and impact, I doubt she's one hundred percent...."

 

Finally, Arianwyn lunges forward, snapping a forearm into the giant's midsection. Janus barely moves, and stands there with an implacable look on his face as Arianwyn slams the elbows and forearms home into his midsection. The crowd begins to laugh at the seemingly ineffective attack, but Arianwyn drives one more forearm into Janus' solid gut - and then drives her knee up into his groin! Janus' eyes open wide, and he coughs, wavering on his feet and stumbling , dropping to a knee.

 

Taking advantage, Arianwyn hits the ropes and comes back, hooking Janus' head and twisting the low-blowed giant around with a jump-swinging DDT, crashing his head into the canvas. Grimacing at the slight flares of pain from her recently healed burns, the female superstar lays a kick or two in, then quickly runs to the other side of the ring and start yelling at the referee to unlock the door so she can get out. Behind her, Janus pushes himself upright, glaring at Rivenstone's turned back.

 

Axis: "Rivenstone looking to get out of there ASAP!"

 

Suicide King: "I don't think anyone wants to be trapped in there with Janus!"

 

Axis: "Speaking of the big guy...."

 

Arianwyn smirks as the referee finally undoes the lock on the cage door and begins to pull it open - when Janus steps up behind her, locking both arms in a full nelson. The female superstar shakes her head and kicks at the giant's knee, trying anything to distract him, but Janus shakes his head and hoists her up - and instead of bridging, he lets go of the full nelson as he flips over! Arianwyn soars through the air, crashing into the ground almost right on top of her head. Janus sits up, and stares through the opened door at the referee.

 

Janus: "Close it."

 

Seeing the expression on the white-haired giant's face, Sexton nods and locks the cage door once more. Janus rises back to his feet, as Arianwyn rolls over from her crumpled up position after the full nelson and starts getting up. Janus crouches slightly, resting a hand on one thigh as he clenches his other hand, and as the female supserstar gets to her feet, the giant stampedes forward, lifting one great boot up in preparation to decapitate his foe with an almighty boot. Arianwyn however has him scouted, and goes low, taking the giant's other leg out from under him with a drop toe hold!

 

Axis: "Janus going for the big boot, but Arianwyn takes his leg from under him with a drop toehold!"

 

On the ground, Janus shakes his head at the impact and lifts his gaze - to feel a stinging pain as Arianwyn smacks him across the face! The giant growls as Arianwyn gives him a second taunting slap! As he slowly rises, the female superstar grabs him around the head and drops to her knees, cracking the giant's jaw on the top of her head with a jawbreaker. Stumbling and rubbing his jaw, he looks defenseless, but as Arianwyn moves in to aim for his head with her elbows, a thunderous right hand catches her in the side of the head and sends her sprawling. Gritting her teeth, she tries to push herself up, but finds herself pinned as Janus steps on her back, grinding his heel in for a moment as his foe tries not to cry out in pain. Rather then apply the submission hold, Janus steps off her back and walks away, heading towards the side of the cage closest to him. Stepping over the ropes, he grabs the cage and slowly starts to climb it.

 

Suicide King: "Now it's Janus' turn to escape! He's climbing the cage!"

 

Axis: "Arianwyn holding her spine in the middle of the ring - Janus basically used her as a doormat!"

 

However, she is not one to be beaten easily, as Arianwyn Rivenstone climbs back to her feet, and spots the giant slowly ascending the cage. Holding her back for a moment, the female superstar races over and springs up onto the giant's back, wrapping her arms around his head in a sleeper and trying to cinch her legs around his waist! Janus pauses in his ascent and shakes his head, trying to get Arianwyn off his back. However, the wily female superstar locks her arms in a sleeper hold, and wraps her thighs around Janus' waist, locking in.....

 

Axis: "DEATHGRIP! She's got the Deathgrip on Janus!"

 

Suicide King: "If he passes out, she'll be able to climb the cage for sure!"

 

Axis: "It appears Janus has other plans, though, and they Don't include losing!"

 

Unable to shake Arianwyn off his back, the fading giant does the only other thing that comes to mind. Bracing his body against the cage, the giant pushes off with all his might - and clears the ring ropes as he propels himself backwards and off the cage! Arianwyn, still clinging to his back, can do nothing as Janus falls to the canvas, crushing her beneath three hundread and fifty pounds of muscle - forcing her to release the Deathgrip. He rolls off her, sprawling and catching his breath, trying to get the air into his lungs and blood back into his brain. Arianwyn looks worse off, holding her chest and gasping after being sandwiched between Janus and the canvas.

 

Suicide King: "Bahahaha! Janus just THREW himself off the cage to get out of the Deathgrip!"

 

Axis: "The impact has them both stunned, and this cage match hasn't been going for long either!"

 

Suicide King: "The thing is, you have to have endurance AND power to survive one of these. Like I have."

 

Axis is about to question just what King was talking about when it came to endurance, but the attention goes back to the ring as Arianwyn slowly sits up. Rubbing her chest, she looks at the downed Janus, and begins a stagger towards the door....when the giant abruptly snatches her ankle! Arianwyn kicks with her other foot, trying to hit Janus in the face, but the giant holds fast, pushing himself up and holding his opponent's leg, leaving his foe hopping up and down on one foot. Stepping forward inside her defence, Janus pushes her leg aside to keep her off balance, and lifts her up in a crushing bearhug.

 

Before he can execute whatever move he was trying to do, Arianwyn rakes his eyes with her fingers nails, and slams a knee into his lower abdomen. Momentarily stunned, Janus can do nothing as his female opponent grabs him by the hair and rams his head into the cage. The crowd 'ooooooh's in pain as, gather momentum, Arianwyn runs to the other side of the cage, dragging Janus by the hair, and slamming his head into that side as well! Not moving again, the evil female then proceeds to repeatedly bang Janus' face into the steel, elicting a loud "Oooooooo!" of sympathetic pain from the crowd with each hit. She releases the giant's head, letting Janus step away from the ropes, blood visibly covering his forehead.

 

Axis: "Arianwyn with a surprising comeback! It looked like Janus could have killed her with whatever move he was planning...."

 

Suicide King: "Intuitive! But my money's still on Janus! The big guy can never just be kept down!"

 

Leaping up onto the ropes, Arianwyn takes a split second to balance, and then springboards back off, driving her legs into Janus' forehead with a springboard dropkick! Determined to put the monster down for the count, the female superstar climbs up onto the top turnbuckle, waiting - and dives off, wrenching Janus around as she drives his skull into the canvas with a massive tornado DDT! Leaving the giant on the canvas, Arianwyn grabs the nearest wall of the cage and starts climbing with the agility of a cat!

 

Axis: "She's going up! Arianwyn might win this one!"

 

Suicide King: "What did I tell you about Janus!?"

 

Axis: "He's up! JANUS IS UP!"

 

Nearly to the top of the cage, Arianwyn faintly hears the yell of Axis and turns her head around to see Janus back on his feet, and shaking his head violently to clear it of the dazedness, taking an unsteady step towards the ropes. Perching precariously within arm's reach of the top of the cell, Rivenstone balances herself....

 

....and flings herself off the cage, locking her legs around Janus' neck! Stunningly, the Magnificent Seven machine reacts faster than anticipated, spinning around so he was facing away from the ropes, and then punishing Arianwyn with a thunderous sit-out powerbomb! The ring shakes with the sheer impact of the move, and the crowd flinches.

 

"WE FELT THAT!"

"WE FELT THAT!"

"WE FELT THAT!"

 

Axis: "CHRIST! Arianwyn threw herself off in a hurricanrana, but Janus caught her and nearly cratered her whole body through the ring!"

 

Suicide King: "And now Janus looks like he wants to get out of here!"

 

Scaling the cage wall with the speed of an unsunned snake, Janus slowly lifts himself up to the top and stands tall. Rather then go down the other side of the cage, however, he looks at Arianwyn's body in the middle of the ring, and shakes his head, drawing his finger across his throat with a yell that pierces even the crowd noise.

 

Janus: "Your fight ends HERE!"

 

The crowd husses at the bestial sound of Janus' yell, and the self-proclaimed Hell Machine leaps off the top of the cage in slow motion, tucking his legs and arms up against his body, falling towards the ring, intent on totally crushing and destroying Arianwyn Rivenstone....

 

....when she sees the three hundred and fifty pound mass and rolls aside with a desperate burst of energy! Janus crashes straight into the canvas with a loud thundering BOOM, then sprawls on the ground, rolling and holding his ribcage. The crowd is still hushed, but at least the commentators had something to say.

 

Axis: "......"

 

Suicide King: "......Fuck me. He would've KILLED HER!"

 

Axis: "That's an understatement.....I think they're both nearly dead after that!"

 

Pulling herself to her feet, Arianwyn watches Janus roll on the ground, clutching his chest, and decides to try and put the giant down for the count. First, she runs to the ropes and leaps off, springboarding backwards and landing a nice legdrop across Janus' throat, making the giant gasp for air. She then climbed into the small space between the cage wall and the ring ropes, and sprang up, twisting her body in a shooting star press...

 

..Janus sees it coming, but is too busy trying to get the air back into his chest...

 

...and as such his chest is compacted again, causing a wheezy 'argh' to come out of the giant's throat as Arianwyn lands on him with the Bloodlust! The crowd, since both the superstars in the ring usually draw boos, decide to cheer on the sexy female as she crouches to catch her breath, looking at the wheezing Janus, and she stumbles across the ring towards the door, trying to get the referee to open it. Sexton fiddles with the lock, as Arianwyn looks back at the form of Janus, now rolled onto his stomach and catching his breath.

 

"ARI-AN-WYN!" *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

"ARI-AN-WYN!" *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

"ARI-AN-WYN!" *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

The sexy female pauses to lap up the chants with a twisted grin on her face, then glares at the apparent slowness and indecisiveness of referee Sexton Hardcastle.

 

Arianwyn: "Hurry it up!"

 

Sexton: "Don't rush me!"

 

The referee finally clicks the lock open and Arianwyn pushes the door open, stepping onto the stairs. She puts a foot on the ground and the crowd gasps. She tries to lift her other foot from the apron, but finds it stopped - and turns her head to see Janus with both his bulky arms wrapped around her leg. She growls and attempts to shake her leg free, but Janus shakes his head with a malicious grin...

 

...and YANKS her leg right out from under her! Pulled off balance, Arianwyn topples forward - but Janus pulls her leg back, and she ends up smacking her skull into the steel stairs as the Hell Machine drags her back into the ring. He glares at Sexton, and the frazzled referee once more goes about re-locking the door, even though Janus had not said a word. Clutching her head, Arianwyn doesn't resist as Janus drags her back to to her feet.

 

Axis: "Arianwyn almost had it won! Another foot down outside the cage and she would've had the match completed and advanced!"

 

Suicide King: "But Janus grabbed her leg and pulled it out from under her! I swear she almost did a full flip with him holding her leg!"

 

Axis: "And she cracked her head on the stairs because he dragged her back in!"

 

Without showing any mercy whatsoever, Janus wraps a great hand around Arianwyn's throat, and hoists her high into the air. With the crowd's booing apparently egging him on, Janus grins, and turns a full circle, before dropping Arianwyn into the canvas with a brutal chokeslam, locking his hand around her neck and choking her out! The crowd boos this target as Arianwyn struggles under the giant's grip, as the crowd gives a spontaneous little cheer that Janus totally ignores. The cage rattles, and this does get the giant's attention, as he releases Arianwyn's throat and turns his eyes to the top of the cage....

 

...as Nocturna Bloodmoon throws herself off it in a stunning lateral press that knocks the giant to the canvas! Sexton yells for Nocturna to get back out of the cage, but the wily Disciple ignores him, checking on her partner. Behind her, Janus slowly rises to his feet, the expression on his face looking truely nasty with the blood of his forehead injury dripping into his face and tinging his hanging white hair red.

 

Axis: "IT'S NOCTURNA!"

 

Suicide King: "This match just turned into a handicap cage match!"

 

Axis: "No disqualifications...and Arianwyn has the distinct advantage!"

 

With a roar, Janus lunges forward, aiming to brutalise Nocturna with a lariat, but the Disciple dodges aside and drives a stiff kick into the giant's midsection, and again into his groin. Arianwyn gets back to her feet, and starts driving the elbows into Janus' face, the shots sending the giant reeling, one with a crack that might indicate a broken nose. Each taking an arm, the Disciples of Discord whip Janus into the ropes, and as the bloody-faced giant charges back towards them, they both duck, and lift, straining their bodies as they lift the giant up for a thunderous back body drop! The crowd cheers as Janus gets lifted straight over the ropes and crashes into the cage wall at an awkward angle before slumping to the ground.

 

Rather than escape, Arianwyn drags Janus back into the ring, and she and Nocturna continue to stomp away at the sole member of the JL Magnificent Seven. Janus twitches under the assault, and sensing near victory, Nocturna snaps a particularly vicious stomp into the giant's bloody forehead, as Arianwyn goes to the ropes again, preparing to springboard up and once more crush Janus with the Bloodlust. Nocturna poses in the ring, grinning twistedly as her partner springs off the ropes and twists her body around....

 

...and hitting the canvas as Janus abruptly sits up, and Arianwyn crashes into the ground and groans, holding her midsection. Totally ignoring his actual opponent, Janus rises from the canvas like a demon from the depths, and without a word, steps to the middle of the ropes and crouches, gauging Nocturna's position. Not hearing her companion climbing the cage, Nocturna turns around... and Janus charges, carrying her straight across the ring and crushing her body straight through the ropes and into the cage wall!

 

Axis: "GOOOOORE! GOOOOOOOORE! GOOOORE!"

 

Suicide King: "He just CRUSHED Nocturna there!"

 

Axis: "But look, he's taken his eyes off the real target!"

 

Janus whirls around after crushing Nocturna into the wall of the cage, to see Arianwyn on her feet and making for the cage wall. Janus storms across the ring and grabs her by the hair, then unceremoniously grabs her body from behind, lifts it up, and drops it across the back of his knee with a pendulum backbreaker! Arianwyn arghs, clutching her spine. Stepping across the ring, Janus stands in front of Nocturna, then turns acround and crouches again, scouting the slowly rising Arianwyn with murder in his eyes. Locked intently on his target, the giant takes a step forward and comes up short, turning his head to see Nocturna, grimacing and hugging his leg. Shaking his hand free of the dazed Disciple's grip, Janus charges across the ring - and his opponent throws herself out of the way, and Janus' head and shoulder crashes right into the cage wall! The giant staggers back with an audible argh of pain, turning around and trying to figure out where his opponent went.

 

Taking no chances, Arianwyn goes low once more, drilling the grapefruits of Janus with a punishing kick that leaves the headsore giant reeling. Showing absolutely no mercy, Arianwyn drills Janus with another crotch kick, bringing the giant to his knees. She tilts his head up to hers with a palm and smirks at him, before giving him the mother of all bitchslaps on the side of his bloodied face.

 

Arianwyn: "You DON'T mess with the Disciples, bitch."

 

Shaking his head, Janus looks back at her - almost at eye level even when on his knees - and grins bloodily.

 

Janus: "And you.....don't mess.....with....."

 

He wraps his arms around her waist as she arghs and drives an elbow into his forehead. Janus grimaces in pain, and half-stands, then slams Arianwyn down on to the ground with a high-angle spinebuster, before dropping to his knees once more and trying to ignore the pain flowing from his most precious of bodily parts. He manages to complete his sentence, staring at Arianwyn's downed form.

 

Janus: "...the Magnificent Seven's Hell Machine......"

 

Half-walking, half-stumbling, Janus begins to make his way over to the door, motioing for Sexton to open it. Sprawling on the ropes, he gives the referee a steady stare, and finally Hardcastle realises the giant actually wants out of the cage! He works the lock once more, but before it even gets open, Janus stumbles away from the ropes as Nocturna, finally back on her feet, wraps a length of chain hidden in her dress around his throat and leans back, choking the giant out! Gasping for air, Janus swings around, trying to dislodge his opponent and keep an eye on the rising Arianwyn.

 

Axis: "Nocturna choking out Janus with that chain!"

 

Suicide King: "And with Janus restrained, Arianwyn's trying to get her breath back! Then she'll scale the cage and get out of here!"

 

Blowing Janus a mocking goodbye kiss, Arianwyn avoids the door as the giant is close to it, instead pacing herself as she approaches the cage wall. As she starts to ascend, however, Janus realises this may be his last chance to win the match. Swinging Nocturna around with the chain digging into his throat, Janus staggers into a corner until Nocturna perches on the ropes. From her position, she pulls back on the chain, but Janus reaches behind himself - and since she's standing on something, Janus finds Nocturna much easier to lift in the air. Dropping the chain as the giant hoists her in a reversed vertical suplex, she manages a shriek before Janus shifts position and sits out, gasping as he craters Nocturna into the canvas, before rolling away and going across the ring after Arianwyn.

 

Axis: "JANUS CRUSHED NOCTURNA WITH THE RAGE UNLEASHED!"

 

Suicide King: "Arianwyn's halfway up the cage, no wait, nearly at the top though!"

 

Axis: "Does Janus have what it takes to win!? I think he's outta fuel!"

 

Disproving Axis' theory, Janus stomps across the ring and begins his ascent after Arianwyn, showing more quickness than before, perhaps spurred on by the desire to Win the title. As his foe straddles the top of the cage in preparation to climb down the other side, Janus hands land on the top of the cage as the giant hefts himself up like a monsterous visage of revenge. Swearing in his face, Arianwyn proceeds to swing her legs down and begin to climb down the other side of the cage...while Janus swings his entire body up onto the top of the cage, and then right down the other side, climbing after her!

 

Exhaustion obvious, Arianwyn tries to climb down the cage faster, but pauses in surprise as a great leather boot descends past her head and nearly steps on her foot. She looks to her other side to see the same thing, and trembles in frustration as Janus literally climbs over her, physically pinning her against the cage wall with his mass. The crowd is chanting loudly for....someone. It's rather mixed. Struggling as she's sandwiched against the cage chest-first, she hisses and swears at Janus.

 

Arianwyn: "Get OFF me you oversized sack of.."

 

The giant's reply was quiet, and full of promise.

 

Janus: "Arianwyn...you LOSE."

 

Before his opponent could response, Janus lets go of the cage, and balance, hooks Arianwyn's arms in a full-nelson. Holding her for a moment as he wrestles her grip on the cage, the giant reaffirms the full-nelson and with chilling finality.....

 

....leaps off the side of the cage! Swinging his body over in the air, Janus executes a massive BRIDGED FULL NELSON SUPLEX, crushing Arianwyn's head into the ground outside the ring! Sexton Hardcastle runs around to see the impact, and looks first at Arianwyn - pinned in a bridge, on top of her head with legs in the air.... and then at Janus, bridging Arianwyn perfectly, body trembling after the impact.....

 

...with both feet FIRMLY ON THE FLOOR!

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

Janus releases the bridge and flops on the ground, feeling the pain racing through every fibre of his being. Hardcastle helps him up, and over to the table where he grabs his European title and raises his fist as Funyon announces.

 

Funyon: "The winner of this bout....and ADVANCING in the World Title Tournament......the S....J.....L.....EUROOOOOOOPEAN CHAMPION.......JAAAANUS!"

 

Fear Factory's "Resurrection" booms over the speakers as Janus, accompanied by Sexton, heads to the back with his title slung over his shoulder. Axis and the Suicide King look over their announce table at Arianwyn sprawled on the ground outside the cage, not even moving, and then at Nocturna inside the ring, barely stirring after that Rage Unleashed.

 

Axis: "Well....this match is over, ladies and gentlemen."

 

Suicide King: "With the better MAN as the winner!"

 

Axis: "Next round of the World Title tournament, we have "Technical Perfection" in the form of Chris Card going up against the winner of that SICKENING Damnation In A Box match, Dace Night!"

 

The crowd buzzes with anticipation and cheers at the mention of Dace's name as the show goes to commercial...

[Guest realitycheck]

"And we're back for the main event of the evening!" Yells Axis, cover the still pumped Brummie crowd.

"Jesus Axis, do this lot ever shut up?" King shouts back.

"Not from what I've heard King. We've just got to live with it I think."

"Live with it. I'm gonna be living with deafness." Shouts King.

"Can't help you with that one King." Axis replies.

"Of course you bloody can't. You're blood useless, that's why Axis."

"Tsk, Tsk King, just enjoy the vibe and the show." Axis smiles.

 

Funyon steps into the ring to announce the match.

 

"And now for tonight's Main Event! This match is part of the World Title Tournament! With the winner moving on to the next round of the Tournament!" Booms Funyon, as the crowd roars over him.

 

"First, from Halifax, Canada, at two hundred and sixty four pounds ... 'TECHNICAL PERFECTION' CHRIS CARD!"

 

Even before Funyon can finish talking, the crowd beings to boo and jeer as loud as they can, showing some good old Brummie charm.

 

'Grind' breaks into life, as Card his way out into the ring side area, Natasha noticeably absent. Chris Card strolls down the ramp to the ring, under a torrent of abuse.

 

YOU FUCKING SUCK! YOU FUCKING SUCK! YOU FUCKING SUCK!

 

Climbing into the ring, Card holds the ropes and steps through into the ring. Not missing a thing, the Birmingham crowd shows what true British gentlemen are like.

 

WHERE'S THE SLUT! WHERE'S THE SLUT! WHERE'S THE SLUT! WHERE'S THE SLUT!

 

Card flips the crowd several birds before he drops into his fighting crouch, drawing more boos and hatred from the crowd.

 

"No love at all for Chris Card from this Birmingham crowd. I don't think the fans like his type." Axis notes.

"His type? Axis, are you racist or something. Damn you man, you keep making the company look so bad. I wonder why you even still have a job something you know." Snarls King.

 

"And now, from right here in BIRMINGHAM, ENGLAND! He is two hundred fifty four pounds. He is a former KSW star! And a former KSW World Heavyweight Champion! For his first match in the UK in over two years! Ladies and Gentlemen, this is .... DDAAACCCEE NNIIIGGGHHHTTT!"

 

And like a mirror flipped over, the crowd’s reaction instantly flips into the deafening cheers that can only be found from the hearts for Home Town Heroes.

 

'Winds of Creation' drops like a bombshell, as Dace poses in the entranceway, letting the reactions of the crowd wash over him.

 

DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT!

 

"Listen to this reaction. This place is insane for it's heroes!"

 

Forcing himself down towards the ring, against the wall of noise from the fans.

Eyeing up Chris Card, he glares him down.

 

"Dace Night won a hard fought and truly hardcore match against Spike Jenkins at the SJL PPV last time around. But how can he be healed from everything he took in that match? In this important World Title Tournament match up, can Chris Card us that to his advantage to pick up a huge upset victory?" Wonders Axis

 

Staring down Card, eyeing him up face to face, Dace lets the crowd stand behind him.

The roar like an army from the crowd shows they don't think Card has a hope.

 

"These people know nothing Axis. Look at Dace, he looks tough, but he's held together by thread, spit and superglue. Spike really took it to Dace, and Dace is defiantly nowhere near fully recovered from that. All Card has to do is pick his spots, take his time, and go the distance, Dace will just fall apart on him." King comments, with chilling clarity and truth.

 

"I hate to say it King, but you are totally correct on that one. Even with the hometown advantage, Card as the in ring advantage. But then again, we've heard about Dace Night's past history of styles, which are apparently unlike what we've seen from him so far in the SJL. Could that be an Ace up the sleeve that will see Dace into the next round of the Tournament?" Axis wonders, echoing the thoughts of many, even King.

 

"And another last thing we've got to consider before this match gets under way. Dace Night and Spike Jenkins are in the same pool of the Tournament, two wins by these men tonight will see them facing off again, on the next show. I'm not sure if I want to see a repeat of the Pay Per View match for quite some years to come." King notes slowly, trying to push the idea from his head.

 

"Well, Dace has to get past Card first, and we're about to see if he can do it."

 

Both men have backed off across the ring, and it can easily be seen that Dace is struggling along, covering his injuries from the Damnation in a Box match, mainly on his head, chest and back.

 

DING, DING, DIGN!

 

"And here we go!"

 

Dace drops to a crouch, matching Cards, and trying to hold his body and back out of the way, while covering up his head.

Advancing in, Card faints a high kick, and drops low with a sweep, taking Dace's legs out from under him in a flash. Spring to his full height to get more weight behind his kicks, Card plants a football style kick into the ribs, rolling Dace over, as he yells in pain. The crowd join in the yell with jeering at Chris Card.

 

Planting another kick, this time, right in the scared wreck of Dace's back, Card rolls Dace right over onto his front, before dropping both knees into his back, causing Dace to scream out, and trying to reach for the ropes.

 

"Card, straight away, takes Dace down to the mat, and starts an attack on that back, which took a full brunt of a C4 explosion at the Pay Per View. I doubt Dace can take very much of this at all."

 

Stepping over Night's back, Chris drops into a back mount, and starts driving knees into Dace's back. Blood wells up already from Dace's injured back, as stitches and damaged fleshed gives way to the force of the knee blows.

 

The fans are all over Card, some even taking part in the fine local tradition of spitting on every sports man that you don't like, but without managing to get it all the way to the ring. Some people seen to be getting very close to King though.

 

Grabbing a heel, and pulling the leg back, Card reaches down and locks his arms into a Single Leg Crab, before taking the extra measure of kneeling down into Dace' back, putting even more pressure onto it.

 

Roaring to try and stay focused away from the pain, and on swearing like a true Brummie at Chris Card, Dace politely points out that his arms and technical skill are perfectly fine, as he reaches back, grabbing the leg of Card that's on the mat, and pulling it back, throwing Card face first down to the mat, as the crowd bursts into cheers, and laughter as Card bounces off his face.

 

Rolling his body over with sheer power, Dace lays back to back, perpendicular across Card, before reaching over, and looping his arm under Card's chin, in a from of Facelock. Flicking his body over onto it's front, Dace takes Card over with him, into a Side Headlock on the mat. Brining his other arm up Chris's head, he tries to lock his hands, as he legs reach for Card's scrambling arm.

 

The crowd roar to life as they see what's coming.

 

"A possibly fatal mistake from Chris Card! Dace trips him, and rolls him over, looking for the Code Black!" Calls Axis

 

Releasing what a desperate situation he's in already, Card fights madly with his arm, driving his elbow into Dace's head, and rolls away out of the hold while he has a chance. Hauling himself slowly back up to his feet on the ropes, Dace smiles slowly at Card, as the crowd cheers for him. Leaving no doubt that a wounded animal can still kill a healthy one, and that all his technical skills are intact, and maybe even better that Card's, Dace steps back to the middle of the ring, and tells Card to bring it.

 

"Chris Card escapes, but I think he just learned one big lesson. And Dace is still telling him to bring it on. More experience and a home town crowding being used to try and Psych out Card, forcing him into making mistakes that Dace needs to use."

"Card has huge things to take advantage off, but yer Axis, he has to get to them first, and then still keep his own guard up." King notes, with some fair truness.

 

Reaching out, the two man lock up, but instantly, Card ducks his body, swinging behind Dace's, and lifting him off his feet and over onto his back with a Backdrop Suplex.

 

AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! Comes the cry of the fans.

 

Dace rolls over, trying to get any weight off his back, and fight off the pain on the impact on his back.

 

Card rolls him back over and covers him, but without hooking the leg.

 

......ONE!

 

 

......TWO!

 

 

......1/4!

 

 

......1/2!

 

 

......3/4!

Kickout!

 

"Backdrop, and a cover, but it was sloppy, and Dace rolling over onto his front gave him vital seconds to recover."

 

Pulling Dace straight back up to his feet, Card reaches back around him in an inverted gutwrench for a Side Slam or Backbreaker. Two stiff Back Elbows from Night shakes of Card, followed by a boot to the gut, doubling him over, and Dace snaps his head back to the mat with a DDT.

 

Regretting the move, Dace tries to roll off his back, clutching it as even the force of bumping onto his back is painful.

 

Starting a crawl to the ropes, Dace tries to get away from Card, but Card is already back on his feet, and measuring Dace, drops both knees into his back with brutal force.

 

ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!

 

The chant fills the arena as Card sinks back into a Single Leg Crab for a second time, but this time keeps his free leg away from Night's arms.

 

"Dace pays the price for end up on his back from the DDT, and Chris Card manages to capitalise on that." Axis calls.

"How much of Night's offence is cut off if he can't land on his back Axis? Card has thing one in the bag, like I said." Calls King.

 

Sinking down, putting added pressure onto the hold, Card thinks he has the victory in his grasp.

 

BREAK!

 

The call shatters that hope, as Dace had managed to get close enough to the ropes before Card had cut him off.

 

Clinging onto the ropes, Dace drags his body up, and deflects a Sweeping Kick that Card tries for his very first move in the match.

 

A Knife Edge Chop comes flying in but Dace manages to duck under it and end but behind Chris, but from what happened when he hit a DDT, he doesn't go for the German Suplex, and instead keeps travelling round Card's body, driving an Elbow Smash into the side of his head, staggering his opponent.

 

Card stumbles back a few steps, given Dace an opening to drive a knee into his gut, doubling him over again. Pulling Card into a headscissors, and hauls him up over head. Not taking a pause Dace drives him down to the mat with the biggest Powerbomb he can manage.

 

Clutching at his back again, Dace holds onto the ropes, as Card clutches at his own back from the Powerbomb.

 

"Dace doesn't go for the German, instead the Powerbomb. Not the best thing for his back, but probably better that the violently slamming his back or spine to the mat with a Piledriver or German Suplex." Shouts Axis.

 

Taking to the mat after Card, and with a chance of keeping any impact off his back, Dace comes down with the full force of his knee into Card's chest. Not the cleanest tactic, but the best one he has open to him.

 

Forcing Card over, Dace drops into a back mount, and pulling Card's head back by his chin, smashes an Elbow off the back of his head.

 

OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!

 

Reaching down, Dace pulls Card's head back and hammers his Elbow into it again. And he slams it home a third time.

 

"Blows to the back of the head, Dace trying to keep Card off balance, keep him form concentrating on his back."

 

Twisting his weight to the side Chris Card throws Night off his back, slamming his back to the mat, as Card pushes up on his feet, forcing Dace's legs back of his body into a form of bridge.

 

......ONE!

 

 

......TWO!

 

 

......1/4

 

 

......1/2

 

 

......3/4

Kickout!

 

"Roll over into a back bridge. I think we may have even seen Dace Night use that one before himself. Maybe Card has been watching his tapes."

"Axis, Card doesn't need to have been watching any bloody tapes. He was at the PPV, he knows all he needs to do is attack Night's back or head and he's a synch for the win, and maybe even the title." King fires back.

 

Grabbing Dace's nearest arm, the Canadian sends the Brummie out in an Irish Whip. Keeping his hold, Card reels his pray back up, slipping under Dace's arm, pulling his trapped arm across his throat. Standing up behind Dace, Card grabs his other arm and pulls it across his throat as well. Then before Dace has a chance to counter, Chris drops back, pulling Dace over by the arms locked around his neck, driving his back down into the mat.

 

BLAME CANADA! BLAME CANADA! BLAME CANADA!

 

"Shane Helms style Crossface Halo .And it sounds like we've got some SouthPark fans in the crowd tonight." Calls Axis over the chants.

"You mean we have a bunch of inbreeds in the crowd. Just like being in damn Texas. " King sneers.

"You're thinking of Linchon aren't you King?"

 

Hooking a leg over Dace's body, Card makes a cover.

 

.......ONE!

 

......TWO!

 

......1/4!

 

......1/2!

 

......3/4!

 

..Kickout!

 

Not letting frustration get to him yet, Chris smoothly pulls Dace back up, steps a heel behind Dace's near leg, and sweeps it back, taking him back down to the mat with crashing force in an STO.

 

The crowd boos Card with all the hate it has stored up.

 

"STO, following up the work on the back. It's just a matter of time now."

 

Rolling onto his back across Dace, and hooking a leg, Card makes another cover.

 

......ONE!

 

 

......TWO!

 

 

......1/4!

 

 

......1/2!

 

 

......3/4!

 

 

.....Kickout!

 

The fans rally behind Dace, in a huge wall of chants as their Home Town Hero kicks out once again.

 

LET'S GO DACE! LET'S GO DACE! LET'S GO DACE!

 

Now frustration sets in, as Card throws on a Front Facelock, and lifts two hundred fifty pounds of Brummie Goth up into the air, looking like he's about to go head hunting, looking to go after the damage Dace took to his head as well.

 

Dace uses the move himself, and far more that Chris Card does, so by dropping his legs, changing his balance sends his body back down to the mat, letting him land on his feet, and then drive a knee into Card's mid section, taking the wind out of him.

 

Clamping on a Facelock of his own, Dace takes Card up and over, twisting him in the air, before Card can try the same weight shift move of his own, and pulls Card's jaw down across his shoulder, in a form of the Sentenced, but doesn't sit down, keeping weight off his spine.

 

The Card his levelled with Lariat, Dace using easy brawling where he can out power Card.

 

"Card looks for some big Brainbuster type move, but Dace sees the head hunting coming, and drops back to his feet to avoid in. Then plants Card with a modified Sentenced, keeping his Spike from the mat, and then an old school Lariat almost beheads Card." Axis calls.

"The fool. I said keep going after the back. If you're going to try some big head hunting move on Dace, he's just gonna counter it and leave you worse for it." Says King.

 

Keeping moving, going the any little flow he's gained before his back gives out, Night whips Card off into the ropes, catching him between his arms on the way back and whips him over to the mat with a huge Powerslam.

 

The fans roar their approval as Dace holds on for a cover.

 

......ONE!

 

.....TWO!

 

......1/4!

 

......1/2!

Kickout!

 

Trying to wear Card down in the same manner as is happening to him, and pulling Card over onto his knees, loops on a Front Facelock, clamping it down with is other arm, locking in a Crownless.

 

"Crownless chokehold, trying to wear Card down, and cut off his offence, taking way Card's breath, and giving Dace some breathing space." Axis comments.

"Yer, like you said Axis, it's a damn chokehold, the referee should disqualify him for that." King answers.

 

Digging his feet in Card flicks his body around, turning into Dace's side, scooping him up, and this time dropping Dace down across his knee in a Backbreaker.

 

OOOOOOHHHHHHH!

 

Holding onto Dace, Card goes for even more punishment to the back, scooping Dace back up, and suplexing him over from behind in a huge Backdrop, planting Dace on his shoulder, and making him yell out in pain.

 

"Chris Card counters the Crownless into a Backbreaker followed by Backdrop. Still working over that back of Dace, which is still bleeding, ever since those knees to the back at the start of the match." Axis comments.

 

His back now totally blood covered after the continuing assaults to it by Card, Dace give up trying to protect it from the mat, and simply focuses on staying in the match.

 

Taunting the crowd, giving them a few birds for good measure, Card takes a few moments to rub salt into the wounds, and to stroke his ego.

 

Picking up a bleed Dace Night, the Canadian Heel whips him into the corner, smashing his back off the turnbuckles, an added advantage of the. Staggering out of the corner, Dace looks around groggily as Card slips up behind him and scissors his feet with a Drop Toe Hold, sending Dace's face crashing into the mat.

 

"Dace is probably glad there aren't any thumb tacs on the floor this time." King sniggers.

 

Rolling back up to his feet, standing by Night's side, Card drops to his knees, once again, planting them into Night's back. Reaching over to one side, and crossed Dace's ankles other each other, the hooking them with his hands, keeping them crossed. Reaching over with his other arm, Card loops in under Dace's chin, and then rolls back over onto his back.

 

"Bow and Arrow Hold. Chris Card locking down on Dace's legs and head, while forcing both his knees into that injured back."

"That's smart. Pure ring tactics coming from Card. Showing what he can do. This guy really looks like a good shout for the World Title." King notes.

 

Roaring his lunges out, Dace tries to keep himself focus off the pain, and sticks to his usual plan of swearing loudly at his opponent or the referee.

 

Stepping in beside Dace, the referee, starts to ask if he want to give up.

 

NO!

 

NO!

 

Card wrenches back as hard as he can, trying to push Dace over the edge. Swinging his arms round, Dace latches on to the hand around his throat and wrenches it away, and with his right arm shows him old school, Brummie Style.

 

"Ouch! Dace just punches Card right in the nose! I think he may of broken it!" Axis shouts.

"Someone stop the match, Card is injured. This has to stop right now!" King yells out.

 

As Card releases the hold to cradle his nose, Dace sprawls out across the mat, taking care to grab the ropes for safety.

 

Ignoring the pain from his nose, Card drags Dace back from the ropes by his legs, forcing Dace to scissors his legs around Card's waist. Using his hands to throw his body around, using Card's own body as a pivot, Dace ends up behind up, and rolls his body back and under, taking Card over head in a form of sunset flip, pinning his shoulder to the mat.

 

......ONE!

 

......TWO!

 

NO!

 

Card flips himself over, taking Dace's legs over his body for a pin of his own.

 

......ONE!

 

......TWO!

 

Kickout!

 

Rather than leg Dace roll him over into another cover, Card jams a knee into Dace's back cutting off the chain offence.

 

YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK!

 

"Twisting Leg Scissors Sunset Flip by Dace, but a knee to the back brings the chain wrestling to a quick stop, and so the fans take the chance to show off some more of their charming local language skills." Axis calls.

 

Pulling the hair to haul Dace into his feet, Card grins to himself as he sees victory right around the corner. Firing off one last kick to the back, bringing up another cry of pain from Dace, Card goes for the curtain call to the match.

 

Stepping behind the Brummie, Card pulls an arm back into a hammer lock, looking for his Cardiac Arrest move. Making Dace lean back into the Inverted Facelock, Card looks to bring his back thundering into the mat, but Dace keeps it with just his feet on the mat. Taking yet another twist in match packed full of them, Dace manages to roll his body behind Cards, and in self sacrificial desperation, clamps on a waist lock and throws Card all the way across the ring with a monster German Suplex.

 

DACE F'N' NIGHT! DACE F'N' NIGHT! DACE F'N' NIGHT!

 

"Monstrous German Suplex from Dace Night. It sends Chris Card right the way across the ring and dumps him on his shoulder. But that also drove Dace's shoulders and back into the mat. I don't know who came out worse from that one, but Dace took the quickest way out of the Cardiac Arrest."

 

Both men are down in the ring, as the referee beings to count them down.

 

......ONE!

 

......TWO!

 

......THREE!

 

......FOUR!

 

......FIVE!

 

......SIX!

 

......SEVEN!

Both men start moving slowly

 

......EIGHT!

Grabbing onto the nearest sets of ropes to help themselves up.

 

......NINE!

And both men are back up.

 

Holding his head, trying to shake off the impact, Card looks around slowly. But Dace has been taking a beating on his back all match, and is used to the throbbing pain, and manages to block it out for just long enough to charge across the ring and level Card one last time.

 

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

 

"YAKUZA KICK! The arena feels like a bomb just went off. The people here love this move. Can this be a lucky chance that gives Dace the win?" Yells Axis.

 

Collapsing over Card's prone form, Dace makes hopefully the last cover of the match.

 

......ONE!

 

......TWO!

 

......1/4!

 

......1/2!

 

......3/4!

 

......TH-Kickout!

 

"No! Card still kicks out. It's not over yet. I don't think Dace has anything left."

 

Even as drained as he is, Dace still struggles up to his knees, urged on by the will of the crowd behind him. Looking around for any possibility or options open to him to try and keep Card down without putting himself down as well.

 

Wrenching Chris Card up from the mat as he struggles to his feet, Dace readies for his neck move, but Card rushes his body forwards in a style of Double Legged Tackle, ducking his head in between Dace's legs, and standing up, hanging Dace down his back, while hooking his leg and head, ready to drive him onto his neck and shoulders, in a move that will surely end the match.

 

"Air Raid Crash coming up. Start your cars folks, this one is over." Says King.

"But head hunting cost Card last time he went for it, will it do so again?"

 

And in true Catch As Catch Can, with a flick of his legs, Dace bridges off Card's shoulders, and twists round to the right way up, still in a Headlock from Card. With a well practised Amateur move, slapping Card's arm away, Dace wheels round infront of him, and hooking his arms around the Canadian's legs, sweeps them back with a prefect Double Leg Takedown, planting Card on his back, as Dace rolls to his side, bringing his body weight and Card's legs over Card's body, Dace makes a last ditch cover.

 

......ONE!

 

......TWO!

 

......1/4!

 

......1/2!

Card struggles madly, trying to throw all that weight off from on his shoulders.

 

......3/4!

 

....... THREE!

 

Chris Card gets one should off the mat, just a fraction of a second to late, as Dace Night gets victory by the smallest margin.

 

'Winds of Creation' starts blasting out, as the referee raises the arm of an exhausted Dace Night.

 

"Here is your winner .... DAAACCCEEE NNNIIIGGGHHHTTTT!"

 

"He does it! He does it! In his home town, Dace Night picks up the victory over Chris Card. A home town win, and an advancement in the World Title Tournament. More than that, he does it with a simple Double Leg Takedown." Axis yells.

"How? Just how does Card manage to make such a huge mistake and lose such a big, but easy match up?" King questions in disbelief.

 

Rolling out of the ring, Dace puts distance between him and Card, before his opponent decides to further attack his back. Held back a group of referees that have hit the ring, Card sits at Dace, before storming off towards the back.

 

NAH NAN NAH NAN! HEY HEY! GOODBYE! NAH NAN NAH NAN! HEY HEY! GOODBYE!

 

"And such a pleasant leaving chant from this crowd. Don't you think King?"

 

Shaking hands with the people at ring side, Dace sucks in deep breaths of air, and thinks about the match that waits him next time around.

 

DACE F'N' NIGHT! DACE F'N' NIGHT! DACE F'N' NIGHT! DACE F'N' NIGHT!

 

Throwing the horns to the crowd, Dace relaxes in the glow of home town cheers while he can.

Making a lap of the ring, he tags everyone one last time, as the camera fades out.

[Guest realitycheck]

Q n' D Rizzzznults!

 

Omega Storm vs Christian Blackwell

-Blackwell topples Storm with the 404! I'd make a joke at the expense of Microsoft, but it's too early in the morning and I can't come up with anything.

 

Insane Luchador vs Crow

-The fuckin' bird slices and dices IL! Ewwww...

 

Spike Jenkins vs MVS

-M! ::thumb point:: V! ::thumb point:: S! ::multiple thumb points::

 

Janus vs Arianwyn Rivenstone

-Heh, heh... one of the neater finishes to a cage match I've seen in a while.

 

Dace Night vs Chris Card

-Does the hometown hero fight through pain and injury to move on in the tourney? Or does Card pull off a masive upset? Read to find out! And as a note, this also has a 'neat' finish, but in a completely different sense...

 

Okay, kids. I'm going to rush rush rush and whip up a card as fast as I can. Buuuuut since I don't have the results for Holly/MVS, I can't very well book the next round of the world title tournament. Therefor, the next show will be a break from the tourney, which will continue when LDP books Wrath? Awwwrighty.