Guest Grand Slam Report post Posted February 8, 2003 02.03.03 “But on an even MORE exciting note… I think it’s time…” “Vader time?” “No, idiot. It’s TIME FOR THE CLUSTERFUCK!!” “Woohoo! Fasten your seatbelts and get the Vaseline, because it’s going to be TWENTY men all competing for the #1 Contendership of the SWF World Title!!” “Well, technically it’s only nineteen men… you know, Annie Eclectic is in there too…” “Lucky duck. She gets all the guys.” “What?” --- The screen shows small clips of Nathan Kibagami and Judge Mental’s entrances, sped up ever-so slightly, before cutting forward to: *** DING DING DING *** “AND THE CLUSTERFUCK IS ON!!” Judge lunges up to get off of his belly and to his feet, but Nathan quickly lashes out at him with a stiff sidekick!! Judge dodges the move just barely by ducking out of the way, and stands to his feet, only to be met with a roundhouse kick!! He evades that too though, backing away from Kibagami to collect himself and think up a battle plan. --- X pounds fist after fist into Kibagami’s head, trying to weaken him, but Nathan is relentless, and he clasps onto the ropes with no intentions of letting go!! The Perfect Drug doesn’t know what he has to do get rid of Nathan, but he isn’t given much time to think about it, as in one swift motion, Stryke scoops him up from behind, and heaves him up and over the top rope!! X is too surprised to react, and he flips over the ropes and down to the floor, landing on his feet and toppling forward onto his chest!! The arena goes kookoo up the wazoo for the surprising elimination, as X gets up to his feet and shoots an angry look at Stryke, who raises his arms triumphantly!! “X IS OUT!! X is out of the Clusterfuck!!” Stevens yells. “A man who was a big favorite to win here tonight has been the first eliminated, and by Stryke, to boot!!” --- Mental’s jaw drops to the floor in shock, and without thinking, he lunges forward at Annie for a high-impact clothesline. Luckily, the Queen of Hardcore steps to the side just in time, and as Judge passes, she guides him to the ropes with her hand on the back of his head, and uses his already established momentum to throw him up and over!! Judge lands on the outskirts of the ring, as his knees smash into the outside concrete with sickening impact!! --- Annie backs away from the ropes and walks towards the center of the ring, getting ready to face the “Chimera,” but as the lights go back to normal, Judge Mental can be spotted plowing through the group of referees on the outside and sliding into the ring with a chair in hand!! Michael stops just a foot away from the ring, coming to an abrupt stop. He looks right past Annie, and a smirk almost violates its way onto his face, but just as Eclectic takes the hint and realizes that something is wrong… *** CRACK *** …Judge SMASHES his chair across her lower back, and she SHRIEKS out in what could easily be recognized as pure agony!! Annie, the tough little warrior that she is, doesn’t go down, and instead turns around suddenly to face the man that she eliminated just moments before… *** CRACK *** …only to receive a scintillating chair shot to the face!! “Oh come on!! Judge was already eliminated from this match! Get him out of here!!” “Ahahahahaha!” Riley giggles menacingly. “KILL HER JUDGE!!” A cut has formed across Annie’s forehead, but she still refuses to fall!! Michael slides into the ring, standing up behind her, as Mental winds up his trusty steel chair a third and hopefully final time… *** CRACK *** …and BLASTS the Hardcore Queen with one of the most brutal chair shots in the history of this sport!! The gash on Eclectic’s forehead opens up to the size of the Grand Canyon, and she incoherently totters rearward into Michael, who catches her back-to-back, in position for a backslide!! Judge knows that his work here is done, and with a broad smile on his face, he exits the ring. Mental casually drops his chair on the outside before headed back up the entrance ramp, parting the group of security guards and referees like the Red Sea. “Annie is history!!” Bobby predicts. “What an impression the Hardcore Champion just made! I mean, after that, he DESERVES a World Title shot!” --- And Mark is correct, because right after the Barracuda’s devastating fist drop, the collective team of Wild and Dangerous picks the former X-Force-Niner up. Without hesitation, they grab onto his black shorts, grip onto his head, and rush forward, hurling him and over the top rope! Michael lands on the cement floor outside with no resistance whatsoever, and the crowd goes wild!! “Michael is out of here!!” --- Wild and Dangerous turn around, raising eachother’s arms in triumph, but the bloodied form of Annie Eclectic runs at them with a surge of energy, extending her arms and hitting a double-clothesline that sends both newbies flipping back over the top rope themselves, and down to the floor! --- Annie and CIA take off from their post and plummet towards Alex, each planting their hands on one of Nathan’s feet as they land, while Zenon sits out, and SPIKES Nathan’s head right into the ring canvas!!!!!! Annie and CIA make the piledriver all the more devastating though, driving Nathan down even harder by pushing down on his legs as Alex sits out! “ASSISTED SPIKE PILEDRIVER!! NATHAN IS DEAD!!!! HE’S NOT MOVING!!! GET SOMEONE DOWN HERE!!!!!” Grand Slam insists, his eyes locked onto Nathan, who lies unmoving, his eyes fluttering shut. --- CIA leans over the top rope and points a finger back at the smiling Fugue as he leaves, but without warning, the hand of Alex Zenon pops up from below him, grabs a hold of his Maple-Leaf mask, and yanks him out of the ring and to the floor!! “Zenon just took out his partner in crime: CIA!” --- “BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Silence takes over the entire Mellon Arena, as blazing pyrotechnics seem to sizzle out of every nook in the stadium… And then… “THIS IS MAH HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” The crowd detonates with vociferous cheers as a lyric-less version of “Du Haste” by Rammstein thunders 360 degrees throughout the arena, and the not-forgotten form of Jamie Drazon appears at the top of the stage!!!!!! “It’s Jay Dawg!! JAY DAWG!!!!!” “And he’s getting CHEERED to boot! I guess the people here tonight really missed the Dawg, because they are blowing the roof off of this place!!” “They’re CHEERING!? No! Stop! You’re making me like Jay Dawg less and less!” Jay stalks out onto the ramp, and raises his head up to absorb the reaction that he’s getting. He smiles a smile with thoughts of sadism and violence flashing through his mind no doubt, and rolls his piercing blue eyes up into his head, before running down the entrance ramp, and sliding into the ring!! Stryke comes up to meet him with some punches to the noggin, but JD shrugs them off and blocks one with his arm, allowing him the chance to get some punches in of his own!! “Jay Dawg and Stryke are brawling!” Stevens watches on. “Stryke eliminated JD last year in record time… and I’m sure the Dawg is looking for revenge!” “JD is justice. JD is rule. And JD is the most hardcore motherfucker in this fed, so Stryke better not take him lightly!” Jay Dawg pummels Stryke against the ropes, relentlessly smashing in his face with everything he’s got! Stryke covers up with his arms, trying to block as many of the hooks, jabs, and uppercuts as he can, but it’s no use! Finally, the rain of fists ceases, and Stryke’s eyes flutter open, he wipes the blood from his nose, and looks to see what happened… ONLY TO BE THAI ROUNDHOUSE KICKED OVER THE TOP ROPE AND DOWN TO THE CEMENT FLOOR!! The crowd’s cheers turn to boos in an instant, as they finally remember why they hated JD so much way back when! The jeers don’t affect Jay at all however, and he simply smiles, basking in the negativity. --- Jay Dawg slides into the ring, where Zenon, Eclectic, and Williams are all recovering, and gets right to work!! He runs at Danny first, who is using the ropes to get up… but not for long, because (BAM!!) JD takes him back down with a baseball shot to the jaw!! The crowd gasps as Danny falls onto his back, his hands on his jaw, but Jay Dawg isn’t finished! He raises his bat into the air, and smashes it down onto Danny’s chest! Some of the barbs catch onto Williams’ chest, and rip into his flesh, as he screams out in agony! “7!! 6!! 5!! 4!!” Jay Dawg sets his eyes on Annie Eclectic next, and he dashes over to her with his bat extended, cracking it over her back!! He pulls back, and the barbs sticking into her shirt and tearing at her now undone hair, as she shrieks her lungs out! “Jay Dawg is absolutely DESTROYING everything in site! He doesn’t seem to have an inch of compassion in him!!” “Nope, don’t you just love it??” “3!! 2!! 1!!” “BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” “Cold Contagious” by Bush starts up halfway through the song, but it can barely be heard over the tens of thousands of fans all screaming their lungs out for the returning Longdogger Pete!!! --- LDP gets up to the ring apron, and steps through the ropes, ready for action!! Jay Dawg, who is on the opposite side of the ring grinding his barbed-wire bat across Alex Zenon’s forehead, releases the bloody Carnie, and looks up at his new challenger. He doesn’t even stop to think about it as he charges at the Longdoggah, swinging his bat forward! Jay Dawg tries to slug LDP right across the face, but Pete reaches out with one of his massive hands, and grabs onto one of Jay’s arms, stopping him with relative ease. He then grabs the bat by the handle with his other massive mitt and pries it away from JD as if he were taking candy from a baby! With Jamie in one hand and the bat in the other, LDP raises the bat up into the air… “Time for Jay Dawg to get a taste of his own medicine! Pete has used his much superior strength to gain the advantage… and now it’s his time to shine tonight, as he returns to the SWF!” Grand Slam is genuinely excited. …and CRACKS it over JD’s head!! Pete releases Jay Dawg’s arm, allowing the former Circus Clown to fall to the mat. The No-Selling Bastard tries to collect himself, but Pete doesn’t give him any time as he smashes the bat onto Jay Dawg’s back, scraping the barbed wire against his flesh!! Even the longest reigning Hardcore Gamers Champion of all time can’t no-sell that, and he howls out in pain as the barbs rip into his skin!! Pete grabs a handful of the Dawg’s black hair, lifting him to his feet again and turning him around, only to drop the barbed wire bat to the mat, hook both of JD’s arms, and double-arm DDT him ONTO the bat!!!!! Jamie lands headfirst onto the lethal weapon, and right when he lands, he yelps out in pain like a dog who just got his foot caught in a bear trap, and flies backwards, pressing his hands on his shredded face to stop the blood flow!! --- “BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” “Frost wants to kill your mamma. Frost wants to kill your mamma. Frost wants to burn your dad. He gets real mean when you make him mad.” The crowd boos passionately as they spot Frost on the entrance ramp, puffing a cigar and raising a single clenched fist into the air! Dweezil Zappa’s “Frost Wants to Kill Your Mama” plays, and Frost walks down the entrance ramp with a purposeful stride, ignoring the crowd’s heckles, his eyes glued to the ring. Frost reaches the squared circle, and puts his cigar out on edge of the ring apron before tossing it to the heated crowd, and entering the ring. “Frosty!” Bobby is happy to see yet another Magnificent Seven member in the match. “Maybe this is the man we need to clear out some of those damn faces, eh?” “The SWF’s Intercontinental-Television Champion looks intense tonight, and he’s apparently ready to get on with anyone who cares to challenge him!” Frost gazes around the ring, wondering whom he should take on first, but his query is answered for him as Alex Zenon rushes him with a stiff arm grenade across his chest!! The Meadowland resident’s arm rams into Frost’s rock hard chest, but the Icelandic Giant doesn’t move more than an inch backwards, shrugging the move off as if it were a fly landing gently on his torso. Alex glowers up at the unaffected snowman, and he backs up again, more determined this time. The Carnie scurries forward a second time, much quicker now, and NAILS Frost with a stiff clothesline to the chest, this one twice as impacting as the first!! The Velvet Hammer doesn’t give up any ground though, and he only sells to the extent of a small grunt, before taking a hold of Zenon’s head with one of his massive hands, and hurling him over the top rope, almost into the ninth row!! --- An expression of irritation is plastered on Pete’s face now, but he can’t tend to Tod for long, because Annie Eclectic comes up from behind and catches his attention with a running forearm blow to the back! Pete leans even farther over, nearly falling out, but he is able to just barely keep himself in to massive cheers from the crowd. He turns around to see the Hardcore Queen, the girl that betrayed him to go to the Magnificent 7, and his anger boils. He grabs Annie and quickly lifts the tired girl over his head for a Musclehead Slam… *** DING *** “OOOOOH!” The entire crowd sympathizes with the Longdogger as Tod DeKindes uses the momentary distraction as a chance to slide back into the ring and low blow the venerable XF9 founder! He drops Annie back to the mat as he goes down to clutch his family jewels, and Tod confidently takes the Dogger by the head and tosses him out without a fight! “LDP IS OUT!! Tod just snuck up on Pete while he was distracted, and threw him out of the ring, and out of this match!!” Grand Slam wails. --- Frost’s veins bulge, his face turns a bright red, and every muscle in his body contracts, as with one last rush of energy, he plows through all three of his antagonists, and gets away from the ropes! Frost turns around, and before anyone can even say “HOLY SHIT IT’S SNOWZILLA RUN!!”, he slabs a hand on top of Mak Francis’ head, and pitches him up and over the top rope with ease!! Mak lands on the outside, but Frost lets out another roar, this time setting his sights on Tod deKindes!! “Frost is seeing red now, and he’s taking out people left and right!!” Grand Slam yells. “Danny, be John Wilkes Booth to Frost’s Abe Lincoln and take him out!!” Bobby yells instructions to the ring. Frosty snarls at Tod deKindes, and he’s up next on the Job Train!! The Velvet Hammer takes a handful of the Todhead Fanclub President’s black streaming hair, and he’s out in short order as Frost launches him up and over the top rope!!! “Damn you Frost! Go for the lesbian, THE LESBIAN!!” Riley insists. “We’re down to the final four, and three of these wrestlers will be in a Triple Threat match, as soon as one more of them is taken out!! Can no one stop Frost’s rampage??” Mark is doubtful. The crowd actually pops big to see the German/Canadian flung out of the ring, and Frost is getting possibly the loudest cheers that he’s ever received, when suddenly, the bulky form of Danny Williams tears his way across the ring, and LIQUIDIZES Frost’s face with the HARDEST FUCKING ROLLING ELBOW IN THE HISTORY OF WRESTLING!! Frost’s head snaps to the side, and a ribbon of blood spurts from his mouth, but unlike TNT who was lucky enough to go through the ropes, Frost flips backwards, up and over the top rope and down to the floor below!! “Danny takes down Frost! That stupid Taco Shilling snowman is outta here, and now it’s Danny’s chance to take #1 Contender’s Spot! Hell, even if he doesn’t, TNT is a pretty safe option… if he’d just get up from the outside…” Bobby looks at the slowly recovering TNT. --- Williams grabs Annie by the waistband of her brown slacks this time, almost accidentally pulling them down (causing one of the biggest pops of the night), and he saddles up on her back from behind, hooking his two hands underneath her chin, and leaning back with a mounted chinlock of some sort!! Eclectic can’t reach Deathish’s eyes this time, and she can’t roll away, so she chooses instead to shriek out in suffering! The Angel’s arms flail out in front of her, hoping to grab a hold of something, anything… preferably ropes, but it’s not a multicolored band that her hand comes across, but instead… “Um, Danny… RUN!” “ANNIE HAS A KENDO STICK!! She’s going hardcore!!” “No! Technical Wrestling ALWAYS beats Hardcoreness! Even you know that Mark… c’mon Danny! Beat her like you always do!!” “But Annie is determined, and the crowd is on her side!! Can she do it!?” Bokken in hand, Eclectic acts out of desperation, and swings upwards with her kendo sword, snapping it against Danny’s face!! *** THWACK *** Williams grimaces in pain and falls back off of Annie, who, collecting all of the energy that she can from her determination alone, pops up to her feet, looking to impose more damage!! The crowd pops funky monkey on a stick, and Annie grins almost mischievously, her face 100% Crimson now, before lashing the Bokken down onto Danny’s chest!! Danny rolls over onto his stomach and groans in agony!! *** THWACK *** “SHE’S HARDCORE!!” “SHE’S HARDCORE!!” “SHE’S HARDCORE!!” “Stop chanting!! STOP IT! STOOOOP IT!!!” Bobby pleads with the audience. *** THWACK *** Another Singapore Cane shot, and this time Danny’s back is the fodder! *** THWACK *** And then another one to the back is his neck!! *** THWACK *** *** THWACK *** *** THWACK *** Annie absolutely DEMOLISHES Williams with three HARD shots to the back of his head, before towing him up to his feet, grabbing him into a standing headscissors, and tossing her cane to the side!! She lets out a victorious scream to the crowd and raises an arm into the air, before hooking both of Danny’s arms up, and then jumping up… *** BAM *** …AND DROPPING TO HER KNEES, SPLATTERING DANNY’S FACE ONTO THE MAT WITH A DAYBREAK PEDIGREE!!!! “Daybreak! Daybreak! The Pedigree that Annie learned from her past lover, Sydney Sky, could very well have just won her the #1 Contendership for the World Title!!” Stevens calls the finish, but it’s no use as his voice is totally drowned out by every single fan in the arena!! “This can’t be happening! I’m dreaming!!” Bobby smashes his head onto the commentary table. “Aw dammit, I’m NOT dreaming!” Annie gets up to her feet and raises her arms, completely pumped up due to the crowd’s deafening cheers. Danny lies lifelessly on the mat, welts from the cane shots that he took forming all across his back. “The Hardcore Queen has one this thing! She just has to make the cover…” “SHE’S HARDCORE!!” “SHE’S HARDCORE!!” “SHE’S HARDCORE!!” Annie’s eyes are glazed, she’s been in there for almost forty minutes, and not an inch of her skin can be seen through the crimson color that coats her body. Only her pearly whites are visible as she bears a smile a mile wide, and she backs up from her opponent… only to be scooped up onto Taylor Nicholas Thompson’s shoulders in an inverted fireman’s carry!! “It’s TNT! He’s recovered from the brainbuster suplex, and he completely caught Annie off guard!!” “Yes! Yes! Yessssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss! Our God is an Awesome God!” “But I can’t quite tell what he’s going to do with her… oh no.” “Oh fuck yes.” The crowd’s cheers have transformed into piercing boos, and Annie tries to wriggle off of TNT’s shoulders as insistently as she can, but it’s no use, as Taylor flashes a malicious grin to the crowd, and then jumps up… …AND LANDS ON HIS SIDE, DRIVING ANNIE’S HEAD INTO THE MAT WITH A VICIOUS, SICKENING, UTTERLY BRUTAL JUMPING SHEER-DROP BURNING HAMMER!! “The Detonation Drop!! The Detonation Drop!! TNT has only used that move once before, and I think Annie is DEAD!!” “Ouch, mwahahaha.” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” The crowd is furious, but Taylor ignores them. He turns Annie onto her back, and lifts her arm up, before dropping it. Nothing. With Danny showing no signs of life on the other side of the ring, and Annie’s life meter maybe even in the negative digits, TNT collapses over the Queen of Hardcore, and hooks her leg. “ONE!!!” “TWO!!!!!” “THREEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” *** DING DING DING *** --- “Well, the audience certainly isn’t pleased with the outcome here tonight, but nonetheless, TNT is the new #1 Contender to the SWF World Heavyweight Title, winning what I’m sure will be considered as a Match of the Year Candidate…” Mark prophesizes. “Hrm, I wonder what stipulations he’ll pick?” “Only time will tell Riley, only time will tell…” The crowd boos their hearts out. Annie Eclectic is loaded onto a stretcher, and Danny Williams is helped out of the ring by some referees, as we fade into a video package for Tom Flesher vs. El Luchadore Magnifico, to decide who will face Taylor Nicholas Thompson in just one month... --- *** BOOM *** “WELCOME LADIES, GENTS, AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN, TO SWF STORM COMING TO YOU LIVE FROM THE HEARTFORD CENTER!!!” Grand Slam shouts at the top of his lungs!! “We have SEVERAL exciting matches lined up for you tonight! First, the Tag Team Champions, Frost and Tom Flesher, face off against Xero in a Hardcore Handicapped match!” “Yehah, sure to be the closest match of the night…” Bobby mutters. “Then, it’s an orgy of pain, when Judge Mental, Ejiro Fasaki, and Fugue go up against Longdogger Pete, Wildchild, and Johnny Dangerous in six-man tag action! Sure to be a magnificent bout… but the action doesn’t end there! After that, two of the fed’s most impressive superstars in the form of Stryke and CIA will go to head to head, followed by…” “Danny Williams, who is going to absolutely KILL Mak Francis to defend his United States Title…” Riley interrupts. “And Perfect Bo, who will make sure that El Luchadore Magnifico’s spine is sticking out of his neck by the time this night is over in the Main Event!!” “But right now…” A single guitar riff blares from the loudspeakers. “Oh wait, here he comes.” Bobby Riley nearly wets his pants with anticipation, but the crowd reacts with nothing but boos!! “Oy.” “Oy.” “Oy.” “Oy.” “Oy.” “Oy!” “Oy!” “Oy!” “Oy!” “Oy!” “Oy!” “Oy!” “Oy!” “OY!” “OY!” “OY!” “See me ride out of the sunset… On your colour TV screen. Out for all that I can get… If you know what I mean. Women to the left of me… And women to the right. Ain't got no gun. Ain't got no knife. But don't you start no fight……” The familiar figure of Taylor Nicholas Thompson appears on the entrance ramp, and the boos only increase. Taylor glares down at the ring with an intent look in his eye, as well as a victorious one, evidentially still celebrating from his victory on Sunday. Though he’s not in a match on this particular night, TNT still bares his usual wrestling gear, as he stands idly on the stage. “’Cause I’m TNT! I’m dynamite… TNT! And I’ll win the fight! TNT! I’m a power load… TNT!! Watch me exploooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooode!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” *** BOOM *** A thick wall of fiery red pyro flares up from the stage, AC/DC’s “TNT” continues to funk from the PA System, and Taylor Thompson himself breaks into a speed walk down the ramp, wanting to get right down to business! He hops up to the ring apron, as even more red fireworks sizzle down from the ceiling in a blinding blaze! “Taylor Thompson wont the SWF Clusterfuck just last Sunday… and he’s been given some interview time here tonight!” Grand Slam barks. “Knowing the old TNT, he’d probably go through a bunch of mumbo jumbo about explosions… but I have a feeling that this will be as brief as necessary. He looks like he wants to get straight to the point.” “Ahhhh, I know of his something that’s straight and has a point…” “Shut up.” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Ringside attendant Ted Pollak pitches a microphone into the ring, and TNT catches it with his right hand, signals for his music to be cut, and then speaks: “Hehehehehehe… Hah. Nineteen other men. Actually, it was a women that I beat in the end… but nonetheless, nineteen other wrestlers. NINETEEN. And not ONE could take me out. Not ONE. Now… what does this say…?” Taylor questions the crowd only to receive a bombardment of jeers for his answer. “Does it say… that I’m the best?” Cue the boos. “Does it say… that this revamped Taylor Nicholas Thompson is the full package of the SWF?” Cue more boos. “Does it mean that not ONE man can match the skills of TNT??” Cue enough boos to blow the roof off. “Or maybe… maybe it just means ‘All of the Above,’ eh?” Thompson chuckles to himself lightly, before continuing. “Now, I didn’t come out here to wrestle. The bookers in the back wouldn’t LET you watch me explode tonight, despite my very stable health and willingness to compete. I suppose they wanted a face to win the Main Event.” “And to say that this guy was running into walls just a few months ago… he seems so, collected now,” Stevens comments. “And yet with the same amount of awesomeness. How does he do it??” Bobby is perplexed, yet in awe all the same. “Now…” TNT continues. “I have a lot on my mind right now. Frosty… The Magnificent Seven… Tom Flesher… but right now, I’m out here for one reason. Everything else can wait until later. Because tonight… I am going to name my stipulation for my World Title shot at FROM THE FIRE!!!” The crowd takes a break from their booing duties for a moment to pop big for the not-too-far-off Pay-Per-View!! “Hrm… El Luchadore Magnifico… only a month away… lesse… how many of you would like to see an EXPLODING BOARD MATCH!?!?!?!?!?” The crowd pops BIG at the foreshadowing of carnage, before being thrown into another frenzy of boos. “Well, too bad. Like I’d actually do anything to please YOU. After all, YOU were the little buggers that mislead me when I first joined the fed… thought that pleasing you meant something. Yeah, right.” More boos, which shouldn’t be surprising. “Anyhoo… er, anyway,” Taylor corrects himself, almost swaying back to an incarnation of his old, flowery self. “I was thinking… and… oh hell, build up is for sissies. I will be facing El Luchadore Magnifico at From the Fire, and I will WIN his SWF World Title, and I will do it… in a two consecutive falls match!!” “What the hell is that?” Bobby asks. “Sshhhh.” The fans are a little unsure as well, but they shrug, and boo anyway. “In this match, he two wrestlers will fight until one of them scores two CONSECUTIVE falls! No disqualification, and no count-out… if a wrestler pins his opponent, but then his opponent pins him, his first fall becomes void! In other wise… I’m not going to beat Magnifico for his World Heavyweight Title… I’m going to beat Magnifico TWICE, IN A ROW, for his World Heavyweight Title!!” >insert more massive boos here< “Haha!!” Bobby giggles menacingly. “He’s a genius! TWICE Grand Slam! TWICE!!” “…Interesting… TNT has more of a vitality rate than the Luchadore does… and he paces himself a bit more… he’ll definitely have the advantage.” “So… come From the Fire, Luchadore… you and I are going to go head to head… the clash of the titans, the battle of the bulge, the… well, you get the point. And when we do… I can GUARENTEE that you won’t come out on top El Luchadore. I can GUARENTEE it. You may have fended Flesher off… twice, even, but even the leader of the Magnificent Seven lacks the determination and intensity that remains within Taylor Nicholas Thompson. Because in the end… you can fend off all comers… Tom Flesher, Jay Dawg, Sacred, even Frost… but you will NOT fend off ME Luchadore… You hear me? You will NOT keep me away from your gold. You CAN’T… and when From the Fire rolls around, you will feel me beating into you like a punching bag, you will see me TAKE your World Title right out from under your nose… and you will watch me… explode…” The crowd boos furiously still, and “TNT” by AC/DC kicks up, as Taylor retreats to the back with a broad smile on his face. “You heard it here first! TNT! ELM! From the Fire!! Two Consecutive Falls match!! The death of that illegal immigrant is only a month away!” “But the question is… how will Magnifico keep Taylor from taking him out BEFORE then??” “That’s a good question… how about: he won’t…?” “Either way… it’s going to be a long month… How will Taylor prepare for his match against the Luchadore throughout this month? How will his relationship with the M7 be affected? And who will win when Robert Jackson Frost and ‘Superior One’ Tom Flesher face off against Xero in just a few minutes?? All of--… er, one of these questions will be answered next, so stay tuned for MORE SWF Storm!!” “Word.” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Grand Slam Report post Posted February 8, 2003 The shot fades in on “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens and “Grand Slam Breakfast” Bobby Riley at their ringside commentators table. “We’ve already heard from Clusterfuck winner and number one contender for the World Title because of it, Taylor Nicholas Thompson.” Stevens recaps. “My pick to win the whole time.” Riley interjects and shoots a thumb at his chest. “Riiiiiiiiiight,” Mark draws on unbelievingly. “We’ve also just now reviewed tonight’s card and one can see that the opening match is a bit….” Stevens searches for a word. “f*cked up?” Riley suggests. “Interesting,” Stevens chooses wisely. “Our tag team champions, Tom Flesher and Frost are both coming off of heartbreaking letdowns from Clusterfuck. The Velvet Hammer just missed being in the triple threat finale and wound up being laid out by special guest referee the Memphis Eel for not hitting the showers when he was told to. While Tom Flesher was knocked off of the King’s Road to the World Title by El Luchadore Magnifico in our first ever Submission/Ladder match, with ELM scoring the victory with a submission.” “I am personally reviewing the tape and will appeal the decision, all the way to the Supreme Court if necessary. This travesty will not stand.” Riley pounds his fist on the table and Mark rolls his eyes. The commentators are shrouded in darkness as the houselights cut out. “Trust” by Megadeth gears up on the sound system. Red and white strobe lights scan the arena as the drum beats and guitars increase in intensity. The Hartford Civic Center is then lit like day by flames emitting from the entrance stage. A lone figure emerges from behind the curtain and the lights return to normal to reveal a man holding a kendo stick up high over his bald dome. “Introducing first,” Funyon starts “from Port Colborne, Ontario, Canada at a weight of 210 pounds. He is the King of the DDT… XEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Xero reaches ringside and screams at the indifferent fans. He flips up the apron skirt and pulls out all manner of plunder to load the ring with; chairs, ladders, trash cans, fire extinguishers, tables, cookie sheets, metal buckets, electric cable, you name it. Funyon dances and dodges to avoid the debris flying at him. “This will be a hardcore handicap match and Xero is taking advantage of it by filling up the ring with all manner of weapons.” Mark points out. “He’s going to need it,” Bobby assures. “HERE WE ARE…BORN TO BE KINGS…” Red and blue pyrotechnics explode along the entrance ramp and smoke pours from the stage to accompany Queen’s “Princes of the Universe.” The Smarktron shows clips of the Magnificent 7 members in action with the mighty stable’s logo interspersed. “And his opponents,” Funyon booms “at a combined weight of 409 pounds, they represent the Magnificent 7, the SUPERIOR ONE TOM FLESHER and FRRRRRRRRROOOOOSSSSSSSSST!” Funyon gestures toward the entrance curtain and the two men appear to an ungodly level of jeers. Flesher shambles down the ramp with his head down while Frost lumbers behind him, keeping a suspicious eye on his partner and stable leader. Flesher rubs both his hands along the golden surface of his tag title, taking special care to examine every nuance of it. Cigar ashes flutter onto Frost’s tag belt perched on his shoulder, while the ICTV is snuggly fastened around his broad waist. “Hmm…” Stevens ponders “no Index Card of Superiority, no taunting of the fans. It doesn’t look like Flesher is feeling to ‘superior’ today.” “Why must you always try to stir up trouble?” Bobby pleads. “Like pointing out the fact that tensions have been rising mighty high between Frost and Flesher lately and a throw away match like this could just be the spark to ignite the powder keg?” “Yes, exactly.” Funyon exits the ring to leave Xero standing in middle of his plunder. He slashes his kendo stick through the air and clangs it on a trashcan like a demented drum major. Flesher moves toward Frost to discuss strategy, but Frost blows past him and steps to the ring apron. Tom shakes his head and removes his warm-up suit. “But on the other hand,” Riley ponders “this could also be just the thing to get Flesher and Frost back on the same page. I’m sure that was the Suicide King’s motivation for booking this contest in the first place.” “Doesn’t seem to be working so far. Frost doesn’t want to discu…LOOK OUT!” screams Stevens. Xero charges Frost as he steps over the top rope and smashes him in the top of the thigh with his kendo stick! DING DING DING Frost trips over the cord with his other leg as he enters the ring and puts a hand on his bruising thigh. Xero rapidly brings the cane into Frost’s thick skull three times. He tries to shake it off, but is visibly woozy. His tag title slips off his shoulders to the mat. Xero looks down at it with disdain and snags the off kilter Frost with a facelock. He throws his body back and drills Frost’s head into the belt! “DDT TO THE TAG TITLE!” Stevens wails with a cringe. “Here comes Flesher!” Riley points out hopefully. The Superior One picks up Frost’s still smoldering cigar from where it dropped on the canvas. Xero kips up from Frost’s still form to receive Flesher…and is burned in the shoulder by the cigar BUTT! The crowd groans disgusted as Xero bellows in pain and turns away from Flesher favoring his shoulder. “There’s teamwork for you, Mark” Riley says jovially. “Frost drops the cigar, Tom picks it up. Perfectly executed double team.” Flesher advances on Xero, but is surprised with a back heel kick to the gut! Tom doubles over and Xero pins him in a facelock. He swishes his hips to the left for a little power and swings Flesher around and over to rest on his shoulder. He drops to the mat with a snap! “Spinning neckbreaker on Flesher!” Stevens calls. “The cover!” ONE TWO “Kick out!” Riley breathes a sigh of relief. “Flesher might be a bit off his game after the loss to ELM, but he’s not in a coma.” Xero quickly makes his feet while Flesher rises to his knees. Xero lifts a right fist to strike Flesher, but is upended with a double leg takedown. The Superior One folds Xero’s legs into a four and goes to tuck the straight leg under his left armpit. Stevens nods his head knowingly. “Flesher looks to wear him down with the Superior Stretch while Frost recovers, or perhaps even steal the win before his partner has done anything.” Xero wiggles his other leg free and boots Flesher off. He staggers off and twists around to land across the ropes. Xero charges and cinches a waistlock to German suplex Flesher over. He flexes his knees and reels back, but Tom wraps his arms around the ropes and is held fast. Xero flies back from his own force. He barrel rolls across the canvas and up to his feet. He rushes again, but is waylaid by a championship belt to the head! “Frost with the save! The hardest thing about a match like this is to keep track of both men in there.” Mark points out. “Another brilliant double team move from the tag champs. They’re working like a fine Swiss Swatch.” Bobby boasts. Xero grovels on the mat and holds his bashed forehead. Frost gives Flesher a narrowed eyes stare as he comes over. The Icelandic Iceman unhooks his ICTV strap and holds both up to the fans with a mighty roar. They respond with curses and Tom almost, almost, smiles at his partner. Frost hands his belts over to a ring attendant while Tom pulls Xero up by the sides of his head. Stevens calls the action. “Flesher grips Xero around the top of his right thigh. What’s this? He’s waving Frost over. He wants the Velvet Hammer to help him out?” “Ha!” Riley laughs. Frost is taken aback for a moment by Flesher’s offering of teamwork, but he finally comes over and takes Xero’s left thigh. They lift the helpless grappler high overhead and kick back to wham him back first across an errant trashcan! The weak metal crunches and curls around Xero’s body like a cocoon. “A double team backdrop driver! Xero looks to be done already.” Mark hangs his head. “Yeah, but the champs aren’t!” Riley squeals gleefully. Frost pulls Xero up by his wrists with the garbage can melded to his form. He turns to wrap Xero’s arms around his with his face buried in his back. Flesher wades through the objects in the ring and picks up Xero’s kendo stick. Frost circles around with Xero hanging off his back in an inverted airplane spin, that shiny silver can like a turtle shell. Flesher plants himself and pulls back on the cane. Each time Xero rotates by him Tom gives him a resounding clang on the can with the stick! “Xero’s a piñata!” Riley bleats even giddier. “I hope there are milk duds inside.” Flesher gets one last blast in before Frost pulls up short and wings Xero off. He sails through the air and crash lands onto a ladder with an echoing bang! Xero rolls off, finally free of his rubbish bucket prison and arching his back. Frost drops to his knees and flattens him out for the pin. ONE TWO Tom Flesher taps Frost on the shoulder and junior referee Billy Chioda pauses his count. “Frost thought Xero had enough,” Steven says “but it looks like Tom thinks he deserves a little more. Frost stands up, but he doesn’t look too happy.” Flesher jerks Xero up and knots his arms around his stomach. He hoists him off the mat with a gutwrench and turns him on his head. He holds Xero out to the side and jackhammers him into a conveniently placed steal chair! “Ego Buster to the chair!” Stevens yells. “That will give you Excedrin headache #37…no…wait…I think that’s fumes from a bad muffler.” Bobby strokes his chin and ponders. Flesher lies on top of Xero for the nonchalant cover, gaining some of the old swagger. ONE TWO Frost taps Flesher on the shoulder to break the pin. He looks a little startled, but Frost mocks the gesture from earlier for Tom to step aside and he relents with mild disgust. “Now, Frost pulls the same gambit. I sense the waters getting choppy.” Stevens teases. “It’s cool.” Bobby reassures him. “Just a little friendly dueling.” “I hope they don’t pull out pistols.” Frost bends down to pick Xero up. He looks over his shoulder at Flesher who crosses his arms over his chest and nods at Frost to give it a go. Chioda is completely lost as to what’s going on. “Xero is just putty in the big man’s hands.” Mark states. Frost hooks a half nelson, takes a few steps out, leaves his feet and soars across the canvas to drive Xero’s face into a fire extinguisher! The crowd ‘ooos’ in sympathy and Xero flops like a dying fish across the mat holding a hand to his mashed mouth. “Good thing Canada has free dental care. Xero is going to need to it.” Riley jokes. Frost takes his knees and claims the fire extinguisher. He rams it into Xero’s gut and he goes rigid from the shot. Frost tosses the canister aside and covers with a lateral press. ONE TWO THR- Tap, tap, tap comes the hand of Tom Flesher. Frost disgustedly moves away, watching as Flesher yanks Xero to his feet. Listlessly, the Superior One slams his palm into the useless waste of skin that is the self-professed King of the DDT. Xero recoils, and Flesher steps in to hold him up. He turns to his partner and says... "Frost, get me a table..." Riley sighs dejectedly as he looks at the untouched coffee mug in front of him as the Velvet Hammer sighs and rolls out of the ring. He lifts up the skirt around the ring and boredly pulls out a press table as Flesher steps around Xero and secures a waistlock. Frost slides the table into the ring as Flesher arches back, lifting Xero high into the air before releasing him, flinging him six feet across the ring and onto his neck and shoulders! Xero lands hard and comes to rest on his back as Flesher stalks over, waiting like a cat toying with a mouse. He waits.... waits... then murmurs, "Ah, the waiting game sucks," and grabs Xero by the waist again. He once again lifts Xero with the waistlock, bringing him high into the air and arching his back forcefully before releasing again to send Xero soaring onto his neck! The crowd applauds politely, mostly becase they enjoy seeing Xero slaughtered, but Flesher ignores them entirely. Instead, just as Frost finishes setting up the table in the corner, Flesher grabs the psychotic Canadian once more, looking for a third German suplex! Frost nods, mildly impressed but mainly a bit frustrated with Flesher's showboating. "Now really," says Stevens, "what does Tom Flesher have to gain by continuing this assault?" "Fewer Canadians in the world, I'd guess. It's in all of our best interest." Flesher lifts Xero high, turning his head to take a quick look at the table and mentally measure the distance. Finally, he takes a few steps backward to build momentum, and as he screams his kiai at the top of his lungs, Flesher arches his back, pops his hips into the air and releases Xero with such force that the Port Colborne native flips a full 180 degrees! With a sickening CRACK, he lands stomach-first across the table, splintering it! The crowd issues a collective gasp as Xero lays on the canvas, barely breathing and not moving. Frost, meanwhile, smirks and tries to suppress a chuckle. "What a sick, sick person!" says Stevens, unable to come up with any more compelling way to insult Flesher. "Jesus, Xero's only trying to win the match." "Mark, Mark, Mark," sighs Riley patronizingly. "I don't think you understand. This is XERO. He doesn't COUNT." Frost starts to move toward Xero, but Flesher waves him away. He lifts Xero up, then, sighing, forces himself to look Frost in the eye. Making a peace offering, Flesher holds Xero on his feet, and mouths the words "Touch of Frost." Frost raises his eyebrow. He looks, a bit suspicious, at Flesher, who simply stares back. "Take it," says Flesher, loud enough for the camera to pick it up. The Iceman from Iceland leerily rears back his hand, winding up, and then throws his fist forward, slamming it into Xero's chest with such force that Flesher staggers backwards from the impact! Xero merely collapses as Flesher, caught off-guard by the sheer power of his tag-team partner, tries to collect his bearings. Frost, for his part, just smirks. "Tom Flesher, offering Frost what has to be the final blow in this absolute massacre of Xero," says Stevens. "Uh, excuse me, Mark." As always, Bobby Riley somehow manages to sound patronizing and clueless at the same time. "I believe the word is pronounced 'mass uh CREE.'" Bobby nods with a healthy dose of self-satisfaction as Flesher sighs and nudges Xero with his toe. He rolls the curtain jerker onto his back and lays across him as Billy Chioda counts ONE! TWO! ... tap, tap, tap. Flesher looks up only to see Frost smirking, his face a mix of sadism and joy in usurping Flesher's power. The Superior One, meanwhile, looks very irritated as Frost yanks Xero up to his feet. Frost blithely begins paintbrushing Xero, slapping his face back and forth. Flesher pulls himself up, looking angrily at Frost, but stops himself from stepping in. Rather, he carefully stops Frost from the assault with a tap on the shoulder, then motions for a chokeslam. Frost, a bit surprised by Flesher's cooperative but obviously grudging nature, steps back. Flesher, getting a little frustrated that Frost is looking for his ulterior motive, simply grabs Xero and Irish whips him into Frost. Xero, in too much of a stupor to defend himself, simply smacks into Frost's meaty torso. As the Velvet Hammer idly swipes at his chest as if he were shooing away a mosquito, Flesher dutifully lifts Xero back up and sets him in front of Frost like Cardboard Comet. "Just what the hell is Flesher hoping to accomplish here?!" says Stevens. "Well, obviously, Mark, he's making Xero a peace offering to Frost," replies Riley. "I mean, even a child could figure this out." "Bobby, have you read your contract? We have a clarity clause mandating that we have to explain even the most elementary things about the match." "Dammit," grumbles Riley, "and here I've been saying Flesher's got a nice ass for free, like a sucker. I'm going to have to have Bill take a look at my contract when it comes up for renewal." Frost, seeming to warm up a bit to Flesher's obsequious offering, wraps his hand around Xero's neck. The Superior One guides the waste of protoplasm into the air as Frost hoists him up for a chokeslam. As the Velvet Hammer thrusts him forward, Flesher grabs the limp body in a waistlock! He follows the momentum and arches back, slamming Xero headfirst into the mat with a combination chokeslam and backdrop driver!!! Xero lands at an absolutely sickening angle, hitting near vertical before the speed carries him over and onto his stomach. Flesher pops up with a grin and points to Frost before starting a quick golf clap. Frost nods gruffly, his eyes still on Xero. “NODOWA BACKDROPPAH~!” shouts Stevens. “Absolutely deadly combination move by the Tag Team Champions-” “AHEM…” interjects Bobby. “WORLD Tag Team Champions.” “And Bobby, that’s GOT to be it,” continues Grand Slam, completely ignoring Riley’s need to be the center of attention. Flesher rolls Xero over and drops onto him arrogantly, as Billy Chioda counts ONE! TWO! --- NO! FLESHER pulls Xero up out of the cover! He looks up, lifts Xero and shoves him bent-over into Frost. Frost is a tad confused, and Flesher just smirks and says, “Early Winter him and wrap this sucker up!” Frost needs no more prodding. With a sadistic smile, he underhooks Xero’s arms, then lifts him high into the air. He makes a half-turn to avoid dropping Xero directly onto Flesher and SLAMS him into the mat with a THUD!!!!! Billy Chioda drops down, happy to FINALLY make a pin count, and covers the formality in ONE! TWO! THREE!!!!!!! DING DING DING!!!!!! “Your winners,” says Funyon, “The MAGNIFICENT SEVEN!!!!!!!” Billy Chioda hands the title belts over to Flesher and Frost, respectively, and Flesher takes an extra second to pat his belt as he throws it over his shoulder. He nods politely at Frost, still looking down at the belt. “Flesher and Frost, the SWF Tag Team champions, absolutely dismantle Xero,” says Mark Stevens, “finishing him off with a Nodowa Backdrop and an Early Winter just for good measure.” “That’s right… Tom Flesher gets his SWF WORLD Tag Team Title belt, and Frost gets the pin! We’ll be right back!” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Grand Slam Report post Posted February 8, 2003 FADE IN "Welcome back to SWF Storm!" hollers Mark Stevens. "It's been a hell of a show, and it's going to get even better with an explosive six man tag match, starting... right now!" HERE WE ARE! BORN TO BE KINGS! WE’RE THE PRINCES OF THE UNIVERSE! The timekeeper rings the bell as the stage area explodes with a pyrotechnic burst! The Hartford Civic Center rains boos upon the Magnificent Seven as they make their way onto the stage. Judge Mental, Ejiro Fasaki and Fugue pose on the stage, dressed in matching Magnificent Seven football jerseys. In the ring, Funyon raises the microphone to his face. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following six-man tag team challenge is scheduled for one fall! Making their way to the ring at this time, at a total combined weight of six hundred eleven pounds, Judge Mental, Ejiro Fasaki, and Fugue! Together, they represent the Magnificent SEVEN!" “Well, this should definitely be an interesting contest, to say the least,” says Mark Stevens. “Five of the men in the contest know each other very well, and LDP is a proven veteran of many mat wars. Bobby, who do you like in this contest?” “I’m going to have to go with the Magnificent Seven,” replies Bobby Riley. “The Seven have worked together for much longer as a unit, they train together, and they have more overall cohesiveness. In a match where cohesion and communication are critical, I’ve got to like the Magnificent Seven’s chances here.” “I’m going to go against you on this one,” says Stevens. “I think that LDP‘s team can win this one, if for no other reason than LDP himself. Wildchild and Dangerous are very familiar with all three members of the Magnificent Seven in this match. They know their styles well, and they know how to compete against him. Ejiro has very little experience against LDP, and Fugue has none at all! Plus, as we saw at Malice in Wonderland, Wildchild can wrestle on the ground if he absolutely has to; that alone makes them much more versatile than the Magnificent Seven who, if anything, have shown that they can occasionally be taken out of their game plan.” “Well, I will agree with you in part,” adds Riley, “and I’d like to add to my original statement that the M7’s keys to victory will be to keep Johnny Dangerous in the ring as long as possible, and to keep the ring cut in half. Wildchild is too erratic and unpredictable; trying to anticipate a guy like that can really disrupt your game plan, especially in a tag team environment. And none of the M7 members can really match power with LDP, so their best bet will be to get the Barracuda in the ring, and keep him there.” You will get yours… You will get yours… You will get yours… You will get yours… YOU WILL GET YOURS! The stage area suddenly explodes with white pyro! Out through the smoke steps Longdogger Pete, Johnny Dangerous and Wildchild, to thunderous applause! “And their opponents,” says Funyon, “at a total combined weight of six hundred eighty-nine pounds, Johnny "The Barracuda" Dangerous, the Wildchild, and Long! Doggah! PEEEEEETE!” Wildchild, Johnny and Pete run into the ring and chase the heels to the outside. “It looks as if these guys want to send a message to the Magnificent Seven right off the bat,” notes Stevens. The Magnificent Seven huddle together in a corner as Pete, Johnny and Wildchild pose inside the ring. They finally climb back onto the ring apron as Pete’s music fades out. LDP and Johnny step outside onto the apron as Wildchild awaits his foe in the ring. After another brief conference in the corner, Judge directs his younger charges to the outside of the ring, as the referee tells the timekeeper to signal the start of the match. Judge Mental and Wildchild circle each other in the ring, finally meeting in a collar and elbow tie-up, which Judge controls, immediately cinching Wildchild in a hammerlock. Wildchild reaches down between his legs, looking to find Judge’s feet, but the acerbic arbiter simply widens his base, so Wildchild instead ducks backwards to slip behind Judge into a hammerlock of his own. Mental thrusts an elbow backwards, looking to blast Wildchild in the face, but his height advantage unwittingly works against him, as his elbows pass harmlessly over Wildchild’s head, so Hizzoner uses Wildchild’s escape against him, ducking behind to re-assert control of the hammerlock. Wildchild reaches his free hand behind him and pulls down on Judge’s neck, allowing Mental’s reflexive resistance to send him flipping over behind his opponent’s back, where he traps the bad-tempered barrister in a waistlock, and pushes him towards the ropes. Mental grabs onto the ropes and shrugs Wildchild off with ease, who bounces off Mental’s back with a handspring backflip, but is suddenly surprised with a running lariat from the crabby counsel. Judge picks the Bahama bomber off the mat and traps him in a side headlock, leading him to his corner, where he makes the tag to Fugue. Fugue steps between the ropes and hammers Wildchild in the small of the back with a double axe handle, following it with a clubbing forearm that drops Wildchild to his knees. Wildchild retaliates by lunging forward with a punch that strikes Fugue squarely in the breadbasket, stunning him. Wildchild surges to his feet, snaring Fugue in a side headlock, but the manic minstrel shoves him off towards the opposite ropes. The two collide in the center of the ring, where Wildchild’s size advantage enables him to drop Fugue to the mat with a shoulder block. Wildchild runs across to the other set of ropes and prepares for another rushing attack at Fugue, but he flattens himself against the bottom of the canvas as Wildchild runs over the top of him, and rolls quickly back to his feet, springing into the air for a leapfrog as he rebounds. Fugue drops back to the mat after Wildchild passes underneath him, looking to surprise him with a monkey flip, but the tropical tumbler somersaults through the air over the top of Fugue, rolling to his feet on the other side and sticking his tongue out at him. Fugue rushes after Wildchild, but he leapfrogs over Fugue and immediately springs back into the air, flipping backwards and catching the demented dillettante with a back flip kick! “Breathtaking exchange by the two rookies,” says Mark. Wildchild appears to move towards Fugue, but suddenly rushes towards the Magnificent Seven’s corner, leaping high into the air and landing feet-first on Judge Mental’s chest, springing off his chest as he kicks him off the apron, and changing positions in mid-air to dropkick Ejiro as well! With the rest of the M7 stunned, Wildchild now runs over to Fugue and grabs him by the head, leading him to his own corner, where he makes the tag to Johnny Dangerous, who is followed into the ring by Longdogger Pete. Wildchild and Johnny double-whip Fugue to the far ropes, and catch him on the rebound with a double hiptoss, which places him squarely on the shoulders of LDP in a powerbomb position. Wildchild and Johnny both rush behind LDP and through the ropes to the ring apron, where they both simultaneously springboard off the top rope into the ring, blasting Fugue with a flying double-clothesline as LDP pulls him down towards the mat with a powerbomb! The crowd roars their approval as the maligned musician bounces off the canvas. “Unbelievable triple team maneuver there,” yells Mark. “Triple team powerbomb, set up by the flying double clothesline from outside! This could do it right here!” Johnny lies on top of Fugue for the cover… ONE! TWO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE— NO! Ejiro dives into the ring to break up the pinfall at the last possible second. Ejiro begins stomping away on Johnny’s back, and Fugue rolls outside the ring to recover from his beating. “Ejiro’s not the legal man,” notes Mark. “Well, to be fair,” replies Riley, “you can hardly blame the referee for losing track of what’s going on in the ring, especially considering how quickly Fugue and Wildchild were moving in there. And they do look sort of alike when they’re dressed like that.” Ejiro leads Johnny into his corner and then gets the referee’s attention as Judge Mental chokes Johnny out with the tag ropes. “Turn around, ref,” screams Stevens. Ejiro heads back into his corner and makes the tag to Judge, who comes in and hammers the Barracuda in the back of the neck with an elbow smash, then snatches him off the ground with a waistlock and yanks him backwards overhead, dropping him head-first on the canvas with a brutal backdrop! Judge rolls over on top of Johnny to make the cover, but Wildchild rushes into the ring immediately, stomping Mental on the back of his head. Judge drags Johnny back to his corner as the referee forces Wildchild back to the opposite corner, and the Magnificent Seven take advantage of the distracted referee to triple team the Barracuda with kicks in the corner. Fugue comes back into the ring and whips Johnny to the far ropes, where he makes the running tag to LDP. Fugue delivers a backdrop to Johnny as he rebounds, but Johnny rotates his body in mid-air and lands on his feet behind Fugue. Fugue turns to attack Johnny, but suddenly realizes that LDP has entered the ring. Fugue begins to look panicked, glancing back and forth between the two men, unsure of whether to attack Johnny or LDP. Johnny makes Fugue’s decision for him by spinning him around, belting him in the face with a right hand. The insane instrumentalist staggers towards LDP, who catches him with a right hand of his own, knocking him back towards Johnny, who scoops him off the mat with a double-leg, and drops him forward. Johnny locks his arms underneath Fugue’s legs, and falls backwards as LDP runs to the ropes, building up a full head of steam as Johnny begins to slingshot Fugue into the ropes, and nearly decapitating him with a devastating lariat as he rebounds into the slingshotting maestro. “Slingshot into a lariat,” reports Stevens, as Fugue falls backwards onto Johnny’s knees. “Excellent teamwork by The Doggah and Dangerous… SMASH! “Oh My Gawd! Wildchild just flew three quarters of the way across the ring! He just nailed Fugue with an head BUTT off the top rope!” LDP lies over the top of Fugue to make the cover as Johnny rolls out of the ring… ONE! TWO! THREEEEEEE— No! Judge runs in to break up the pinfall! LDP and Judge Mental engage in a brief staredown before Pete turns his attention back to Fugue, who stuns him with a lunging shoulder thrust into the midsection. Fugue gets to his feet and quickly lashes out, delivering a low dropkick to LDP that strikes him directly on his left knee brace, stunning him. Fugue backs LDP against the ropes and whips him towards the far corner, but the Doggah reverses, and catches him as he rebounds with a hard right hand! Ejiro runs into the ring to help Fugue, but gets scooped into the air for his trouble, and drilled back into the canvas with a Samoan Drop! Judge rushes in, looking to regain the advantage, but the Doggah ducks his lariat attempt, and catches Hizzoner on the rebound with a big boot! Mental rolls outside the ring along with his teammates, and Wildchild and Dangerous enter the ring as the crowd begins cheering for Pete, chanting his initials loudly: LDP! LDP! LDP! The Magnificent Seven huddle near their corner outside the ring to regroup. “The Magnificent Seven appear to have been bothered out of their offense,” says Stevens. “If they still want to have a chance to win this match, their going to have to regain control quickly.” An astute cameraman focuses in on the M7’s huddle where Judge is seen barking at his junior members, shouting, “let’s get back to the plan! Fugue, you know what to do!” The Magnificent Seven return to the ring apron, and Fugue climbs back into the ring, looking up at the Doggah with a deranged grin on his face, when he suddenly locks eyes with Johnny Dangerous. His eyes narrow and burn with intensity as he points at Johnny, shouting out, “I want HIM!” LDP turns around and sees Johnny standing on the ring apron, his outstretched hand hanging into the ring. The Doggah looks around at the crowd, as if polling them for their opinion, and they all start to chant “Johnny” in unison, so Pete reaches over and makes the tag to Dangerous, to thunderous applause. Johnny and Fugue circle each other inside the ring, and the tension in the arena become palpable, as to old rivals prepare to engage once again in a familiar battle. The Maestro and the Barracuda continue to circle each other in the ring, and Johnny is so focused on his old enemy, that he fails to notice Ejiro and Judge sneak into the ring behind him and level him with a Pearl Harbor attack! Wildchild and LDP try to rush into the ring to protect their partner, but the referee, who did not see the M7 enter the ring, force our two heroes back into their corner as the three heels assault Johnny with brutal kicks in the center of the ring. “This is exactly what I was talking about before the match, Stevens,” says Riley. “I have a feeling that this was probably the M7’s game plan coming in, but they allowed themselves to get taken out of their strategy by Wildchild and LDP!” Fugue sits on top of Johnny’s back, flipping forward into a Major Chord! Johnny’s face becomes a mask of pain, gritting his teeth as he endures his punishment. Sensing that his foe isn’t quite ready to submit, Fugue reluctantly relents his hold and makes the tag to Ejiro. Rather than come immediately into the ring, Ejiro scales the turnbuckle and leaps from the top, delivering an elbow to the back of Johnny’s neck, and rolling him over for the cover… ONE! TWO! THRRREEEEEEEEEEE— Two count only, as LDP makes the save, kicking Ejiro off of his partner! The referee orders the Doggah back to his corner, and Fasaki makes the tag to Judge Mental. Mental steps into the ring and eases himself onto the second turnbuckle as Ejiro delivers a scoop slam to Johnny. Hizzoner holds his thumb and index finger in the air to form an “L” shape in mockery of LDP, as he leaps off the second turnbuckle, smashing his leg across the Barracuda’s throat. “How poetic,” laments Riley. “Judge uses Pete’s own move on his partner, and all he can do is stand there helpless and watch!” Mental pulls Johnny up by his collar and drapes his neck across the top rope. He then moves towards the center of the ring and antagonizes LDP and Wildchild, who rush into the ring but are held back the referee, as Judge and Ejiro team up to choke Johnny on the top rope while the referee’s back is turned. Reluctantly, our two heroes return to their positions on the ring apron, and the referee turns around just as Judge and Ejiro release their chokehold, and Judge makes the tag to Ejiro. Fasaki enters the ring and takes Johnny over with a snap mare, following it up with a dropkick to the back of the head. Ejiro rolls Johnny onto his stomach, and reaches towards his head, locking in a reverse chinlock. “The Magnificent Seven have effectively cut the ring in half,” says Stevens. “They’ve got Johnny Dangerous trapped in their corner, and they’re really going to work on him.” “That’s right,” agrees Riley as Johnny fights to pull himself to his knees. “And they’re targeting the neck of Johnny Dangerous, which is a smart move, considering that all three of them have moves that can put somebody away which damage the neck.” Johnny manages to pull himself to a kneeling position and slowly starts to rise. Ejiro quickly jumps on his back to try and slow his momentum, but Johnny fights to get to his feet. He stands bent over in the center of the ring with Ejiro hanging onto his back, chinlock still applied, and begins to make the slow, long trip to his corner, one agonizing step at a time. “Johnny’s trying to fight his way through the chinlock, and make it to his corner,” remarks Stevens. “If he doesn’t make the tag soon, they might not have any hope in this match.” Johnny is just barely out of reach of the tag, and sensing that he might make it to his corner, Judge Mental quickly steps into the ring. The referee turns around to order Hizzoner out of the ring just as Johnny finally makes a desperate tag to Pete. “And here comes the Doggah,” cries Stevens. LDP enters the ring a house afire, hammering Ejiro with hard right overhead punches, but the referee turns around and puts a stop to it, ordering LDP to return to the corner. “What’s going on,” asks Stevens. “Why is the referee ordering LDP back to the corner?” “Well obviously,” replies Riley, “He didn’t see the tag. That was brilliant strategy by Judge Mental, too, to distract the referee like that. Now they can stick to their game plan, and continue to assault Johnny!” While the referee is still preoccupied with the protesting Pete, Fugue enters the ring, and he and Ejiro hold Johnny still while Judge races back against the ropes. “Turn around, ref,” screams Stevens. WHAM! With Ejiro and Fugue holding their feet against the back of Johnny’s legs to make sure he can’t escape, Judge Mental races to the ropes and drills the Barracuda in the face with a running knee smash! Johnny drops to the mat as the referee finally turns around. Spotting the interfering Magnificent Seven members, the referee shoos Judge Mental and Fugue back out of the ring. Out of the corner of his eye, the referee then spots Ejiro Fasaki hooking Johnny's leg for a cover attempt, and quickly drops to the mat to make the count. ONE! TWO! THRE -- NO! Johnny just manages to kick out in time. Fugue and Judge Mental again step closer to the melee, and the referee returns to his former task of attempting to force them back out of the ring. Ejiro again goes to work on Johnny, who slowly gets to his feet. Ejiro connects with a high angled spinning heel kick that sends Johnny reeling backwards several paces. Ejiro grabs Johnny and throws him into an Irish whip to the ropes. Ejiro prepares himself, bending at the knees to receive Johnny and perform a snap suplex upon his return trip. Sure enough, Johnny bounces off the ropes and slingshots back toward Ejiro, but Johnny sees through Ejiro's telegraphed move, recovers from the whip, and launches a superkick into Ejiro's upper body! Ejiro drops to the mat, stunned by Johnny's surprise attack, and Johnny drops to his knees as well, winded from the three on one assault. "Johnny with a surprise counterattack to Ejiro Fasaki!" exclaims Mark Stevens. "And here's Johnny's best chance to make a tag!" "Yeah, if he can even get up," Riley notes. Both Johnny and Ejiro struggle to get back to their feet, and at opposite corners of the ring, four competitors in all thrust their arms into the ring, desperate to reach their partner and get back into the action. Ejiro stands and takes an unsteady step toward his corner, and Johnny does likewise, as the volume of the audience increases dramatically. A few more seconds pass, and then finally-- "HOT TAG!" hollers Stevens. Johnny makes a wild dive toward his corner, just managing to slap hands with Longdogger Pete, who is quick to charge into the ring. A half second later, Ejiro slaps hands with Fugue, who enters as well. Ejiro rolls out of the ring. Fugue steps in, only to be met by a takedown punch from Pete. Fugue lands on his back, and Judge Mental angrily climbs into the ring. Not to be outdone, Pete takes Judge down as well with a roundhouse punch to the upper body. Fugue kips up, back to his feet, and one more punch from Pete sends him sprawling back on the mat. Meanwhile, the referee kicks the illegal man, Judge Mental, out of the ring. "Longdogger Pete is finally in there," Stevens remarks, "and the big man is on a roll!" Pete drops onto Fugue, hammering him repeatedly with a series of mounted punches. Fugue flails about but is pinned to the mat by Pete's massive size. Pete goes for the cover and the referee begins to count. ONE! TWO! THREE -- NO!! Ejiro runs back into the ring and breaks up the count. This action prompts the Wildchild to quickly climb to the top turnbuckle of his corner, and executes a twisting body splash, dropping himself down atop the unsuspecting Ejiro! The crowd pops big time for Wildchild's big aerial move. "ANDROS DROP!" shouts Stevens. "What a maneuver! That'll teach Ejiro to run in illegally." "How the hell do you know what that's called?" Riley wonders. "This is his first SWF match aside from the Clusterfuck." "Didn't you read the homework?" Stevens asks. Riley says nothing, merely staring ahead blankly. Wildchild's forward momentum drops him right out of the ring under the bottom rope, and a moment later, Ejiro rolls out as well. With Ejiro contained, a satisfied Longdogger Pete lifts Fugue back up to his feet. Pete kicks Fugue in the chest, causing Fugue to start to buckle forward. Pete then raises one arm in the air, signalling for his finisher, the Longdogger Clogger. Judge Mental sees this coming and runs into the ring to break things up, but surprisingly, Johnny Dangerous has re-entered the ring as well! Johnny runs at a full sprint toward Judge and leaps, hammering into him with a stiff flying side kick! Judge is propelled backward to the ropes and actually falls over the top rope, rolling right out of the ring and dropping several feet to the floor below. Meanwhile, the audience chanting has reached a crescendo, as Pete makes good on his prey, dropping backward and slamming Fugue's head into the mat with a vicious double arm DDT! "CLOGGER!" announces Stevens. "Pete hits the Longdogger Clogger on Fugue! Good to see the guy hasn't lost his step, right, Riley?" "Shut up," says Riley simply. Pete rolls over the unconscious Fugue, and hooks his leg for a cover! ONE! TWO! THREE! The bell rings, and "Cold Contagious" kicks up throughout the arena again, much to the delight of the packed house. Longdogger Pete stands up and thrusts his arms into the air in celebration as the crowd again chants his initials... LDP! LDP! LDP! "What a great effort by both these two teams," Stevens says, "but in the long run, the Magnificent Seven comes up short. Longdogger Pete gets the victory, looking great in his return match, along with his partners, rookies Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous! Folks, we've got to go to a break, but we'll be right back with our next exciting contest right here on SWF Storm!" FADE OUT Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Grand Slam Report post Posted February 8, 2003 “Welcome back, fans, to Hartford, Conneticut, and SWF Storm. I’m Mark Stevens, alongside Bobby Riley, and we’re coming back for even more wild action. We’ve already seen a match with the reigning tag team champions taking on Xero, and an amazing six man with three members of the magnificent seven taking on the unique duo of Longdogger Pete, Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous. And now, we’re going to take a step back to standard format, a one on one match between Midnight Carnival member CIA and Stryke, which should be a great match, don’t you think, Riley?” “We’ve already had Tom Flesher opening the show, and the newest impressive members of the Magnificent Seven showing their stuff. If it weren’t for the US title match Danny Williams still has to wrestle, and the possibility of Perfect Bo DESTROYING El Luchadore Magnifico like he did to Thugg, I’d say we’ve seen all we need to see from this show. But hey, every show needs to have it’s little snack stand breaks, and this is it.” “Riley, sometimes you amaze even me with your cynical outlook towards anyone who’s not part of the Magnificent Seven. CIA and Stryke are both tremendously impressive in ring talents, and I don’t care what you think, this match should be fantastic.” “Yeah, yeah, sure, MARK. Let’s just get them out here so we can watch Stryke get the win and move on to bigger, better, more Magnificent things.” The cameras shift to the stage, and the quiet anticipation that’s been buzzing through the arena ends, and the fans raise up to their feet in cheers as the Jay Gordon remix of Linkin Park’s ”Points of Authority” kicks up, and after a few moments Stryke slowly walks out of the entranceway, orange and white pyro spraying up from each side of the stage. Stryke briefly stops to soak up the cheers of the crowd, before making his way down the ramp as Funyon delivers his spiel. ”Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall. Making his way to the ring, hailing from Sydney, Australia, and weighing in at two hundred and eighteen pounds, this…. Is….. STRYKE!!!!” As Funyon finishes his intro Stryke quickly slides into the ring, getting to his feet and preparing for the match at hand. Funyon doesn’t pause long, keeping his ever ready microphone handy, as the arena lights change, ever so subtly, everything becoming dark, spotlights glowing with a red tinge as they bathe the stage. Funyon swings right into his spiel, as the first verse of the now more than familiar Canadian national anthem rigns out, whipping the fans into a frenzy. “Introducing next, hailing from Ottawa, Ontario, Canada….” *BOOM!* The towers of red pyro erupt along the stage, and CIA emerges from backstage, arms spread wide, Canadian Flags dangling from below them. He pauses on stage, waiting as Funyon finishes his spiel. “Weighing in at two hundred and thirty seven pounds, he represents the midnight carnival. Ladies and Gentlemen, the frozen north’s favorite son, C! I! AAAA!!!” The fans erupt, and CIA drops his arms, marching down the ramp, Johnny River’s ‘Secret Agent Man’ playing throughout the cheering crowd. Halfway down the rap, CIA pauses, and shrugs off his jacket, handing it to the side of the ramp, and a waiting stagehand. Basking in the crowd’s reaction, CIA checks one long sleeve of the ‘Franchise’ shirt he is wearing, and doesn’t find anything. Confused, he checks the other sleeve, and still doesn’t fine a thing. He turns to the crowd, as if looking for help, and, raising one finger, gets a look of realization on hi face as he raises the front of the shirt, revealing a microphone tucked into the waistband of his long ring pants. The arena explodes with cheers as CIA pulls out the microphone, raising it to the sky, and tilting his head back to cry out, voice amplified, ringing out in each corner of the civic center. “Hartford, Conneticut! Greetings from the frozen North! You all know me, I’m the man of the maple leaf flag! I’m partners with the Franchise, and hated by the ‘nificent seven, comma Mag. Tonight I step in this very ring, against a dangerous Aussie, could there be any better thing? But I’ve got one question for the fans, so answer true. Who’s your favorite Canadian of all?” The audience cries out aloud, an erupting ‘It’s you!’ finishing CIA’s rhyming for him. CIA smiles and tosses his Microphone aside, then sliding into the ring. Popping to his feet, he comes face to face with Stryke, each man staring the other down. Referee Brian Hebner enters the ring, and signals for the bell, being answered by three resounding dings, which seems to trigger an explosion of action, CIA and Stryke immediately beginning to trade fierce punches. The fans react immediately, as CIA is forced back towards the ropes by Stryke, drawing a few cheers, and a few boos as well. “Amazingly, Bobby, it seems Stryke is drawing heat for assaulting CIA. I’m often amazed at the way the fans react to this Canadian superstar.” “I’m often amazed that they react to him at all. We’ve got the amazing, talented, sexy, brutal Magnificent Seven, and they cheer this goof.” “Well, I have to admit, the Magnificent Seven is…. Wait, what did you call them?” “Brutal.” “Before that.” “Talented?” “No, no, after that.” “Look,I can’t keep track of EVERYTHING I say. I mean, do you expect me to think about everything that comes out of my mouth?” “No, I guess not, since noone else LISTENS to what comes out of your mouth.” In the ring, Stryke has CIA backed against the ropes, pounding away on him, waiting till he has the Carnie staggered, and whipping him off towards the opposite ropes. The masked grappler goes flying across the ring, as Stryke takes hold of the top rope, turning to look back. CIA rebounds, heading towards the Aussie, and Stryke leaps up into the air, feet landing on the second rope and launches his body back through the air, flipping over towards the running Canadian with an Asai moonsault, known to Stryke fans as ‘Meteor.’ CIA’s eyes open wide with shock, but he throws his arms up, and drives forward a step even more quickly than he’s already moving. Stryke gets a shocked look on his face, and shakes his head, as CIA catches him on his shoulder, in position for a powerslam. CIA raises one arm, signaling to the crowd, and turns back towards mid ring, taking one running step forward, preparing to slam Stryke to the mat. Stryke, moving quickly, kicks his legs out, freeing himself from CIA’s hold and shoving him off towards the ropes as he falls to his feet. CIA rushes the ropes, and, quickly, leaps onto the second rope, shoving himself off and back, body turning in midair and flying towards Stryke in a cross body block. Stryke reacts just as quickly as CIA did, moments before, and gets one hand above the shoulder of the flying Canadian, the other catching him in the region of his thigh. Spinning around, Stryke uses CIA’s momentum to drive the Canadian to the mat with a powerslam, mat shaking at the impact, referee Brian Hebner sliding into place to count the pinfall as the Aussie holds onto the hooked leg. ONE! . . . . . TWO! . . . Kickout! A few fans cheer as CIA manages to force Stryke off, saving himself from an early defeat, and a few polite claps ring out through the arena at the athletic display both men put on to start the matchup. “Wel, Riley, despite your protestations, these two start off with a tremendous display of athleticism and ring awareness, knowingly countering each other’s every move.” “Yeah, yeah, both these guys know how to use the ropes, and catch a guy in midair. It’s just that kind of useless flip-floppery that will never make it as SWF Main Event style, like Tom Flesher wrestles.” “I am AMAZED you can say that, when our WORLD CHAMP has ‘Luchadore’ in his name.” “Flesher changed his name?” “Flesher LOST at the PPV, Riley.” “Shut up! I do not hear you, I do not see you, I am not letting you get into Riley’s head!” While this alarming exchange is going on, Stryke pulls CIA to his feet, in the ring, and lays in with a few more stiff punches, Pulling his masked foe to a standing position. Whipping CIA to the ropes once again, Stryke follows close behind, leaping off his feet and spinning to drive his heel into the face of CIA just as the Canadian turns about to catch the ropes, sending him spilling over to the outside. Stryke rises to his feet, stepping out through the ropes, as CIA holds his chest in pain, laying on the mats outside the ring, in obvious pain. Stryke stands on the apron, and looks out at the fans, before leaping off the apron, getting more height than distance. Flying through the air, Stryke falls towards CIA, looking as though he will come crashing down in a splash, but at the last second, flips his body in midair, moving in the motions for a senton. CIA half rolls over, but fails to get all the way to escape the impact of Stryke. Stryke slams down atop the Canadian, causing him to cry out in anguished pain, but the awkward landing causes him to rock back from the impact, his neck and shoulders taking a large hit on the outside mats, an audible wince of sympathy going through the crowd as both men lay on the outside, clearly in pain. “A nice sequence by Stryke, sending CIA off and spilling him over the ropes with that spinning heel kick, and moving out to follow up with a senton splash to the outside. Unfortunately, CIA is still just a little too fresh, and though he couldn’t escape the move, he did manage to have Stryke land in a very awkward way, taking the landing on his head and neck.” “Stupidity piled on Stupidity, Stevens. Stryke clearly thought he could hit that move, and CIA clearly thought he could escape. Both of them made HUGE mistakes there.” “So… what you’re saying is they both should have stood around NOT attempting to win the match, until the ref threw it out?” “Well, with these two in the ring, I’d be happy with that.” “Hey, look, Riley. There goes the point.” The fans begin to clap, trying to get both men to their feet, as Referee Brian Hebner begins to count both men out. (ONE!) Both men roll around in pain on the outside mats, CIA clutching his ribs in pain, Stryke gripping his neck. (TWO!) Rolling over, CIA coughs and chokes, trying to come to his feet, and stumbling back down to his hands and knees, Stryke sitting up. (THREE!) CIA rises to his knees, just as Stryke turns over, coming to his own, and both men pause, grasping for breath. (FOUR!) Standing up, both men manage to make it unsteadily to their feet, turning back towards the ring. (FIVE!) Leaning on the apron, both men reach up for the ropes, ready to pull themselves up. Stryke manages to lift himself a bit, first, but CIA releases the ropes, slamming his fist into Stryke’s throat, and causing the Aussie to lose his grip on the ropes. Stryke turns towards CIA, angrily, as the Canadian grabs the ropes. (SIX!) Wham! Stryke nails CIA’s ribs, and CIA drops off the apron as well, stumbling back a step. Stryke completely ignores the count, following the Canadian, swinging out for another punch. (Seven!) Stryke backs CIA up against the barricade, raining punch after punch down on his masked face, and into his ribs, keeping him staggered. “Riley, if these two don’t get back in the ring, and SOON, they’re gonna get counted out!” “YES! YES! KEEP HITTING HIM!” (Eight!) Stryke slams his fist into CIA’s face once more turning back towards the ring as CIA remains, sprawled back across the barricade, a few fans slapping his arms and trying to stand him up, as security waves them away. (Nine!) Stryke grabs the ropes, but CIA shoots to his feet, grabbing hold of the Aussie’s hair and jerking him back, managing to send him back against the barricade, sending him stembling back over the barricade, right into the laps of the fans in the front row. Rushing forward, CIA looks up in dismay as Referee Hebner throws his hands into the air, ready to shout out that final number, eliminating both men, and he slides under the ropes, just as Hebner’s voice rings out one final time. (TEN!) *DING DING DING!* The fans boo as the match ends in a countout, but wait as Hebner marches to the edge of the ring, signaling for Funyon to come over, noone quite sure if CIA managed to make it back into the ring in time to beat the count. Stryke, defeated, has managed to leave the crowd, and is marching dejectedly back to the back, as CIA pleads with Hebner, who is busy conversing with Funyon. “Well, this is certainly interesting. CIA was JUST sliding in under the bottom rope as Hebner was counting the ten. Is this match a double count out, or do we actually have a winner?” “PLEASE be a double countout. Please, please, please, please.” Funyon enters the ring, standing in the center, and looking out at the crowd as he raises his mic, and CIA nervously paces. “As a result of a countout, the referee has ruled……” The fans wait, none making a sound, as Funyon pauses for dramatic effect, just long enough for some jackass fan in the front row to cry out ‘Get on with it!’. Chuckling, Funyon nods, and raises the microphone once more. “…..Your winner, CIA!” The fans erupt, and CIA’s music hits, the Canadian leaping into the air, arms raise with joy, actually hugging Funyon, then Brian Hebner, before rushing to the turnbuckles and posing for the fans. “Well, it was short, it was sweet, but in the end, like all matches, one second made all the difference.” “I demand an instant replay! I’ll sacrifice a time out, ANYTHING but that Canadian winning, even like this.” “Sorry, Riley, the recordbooks are gonna show a notch in the win column for CIA, and this night isn’t over yet, as we’ve got some tremendously exciting matches, including CIA’s tag team partner, Mak Francis, facing Danny Williams for the US title, in what should be an amazing, action filled contest.” “Oh, just like this one was, Mark?” “Hey, so last night, when Flesher tapped o…” “AH! FINE! Just go to commercial already!” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Grand Slam Report post Posted February 8, 2003 The crowd is still going wild as the two international stars, CIA and Stryke left their mark in there eyes with the previous match. The camera pans around the crowd, catching glimpses of the rabid fans as they boast who is their favorite superstar. There are many pro Magnifico/Thugg signs while even more anti Flesher/Frost signs. Stevens: "And we are back here at Storm, the fans are finally calming down after the many great battles we had tonight!" Riley: "How about that Main event! What a battle!" Stevens: "Um Riley... are you aware that the Main event hasn't happened yet." Riley: "Bah... how much longer do we have to wait?" Stevens: "Not long you little whiner!" The house lights darken, as the sound of electrical distortion hums through the air… two white lights shine down on the entrance, appearing with the drums, and flashing like a rhythmic heartbeat. “Temptation” by The Tea Party is teasing the ears of the crowd. Suddenly… BOOM! The guitars drop, and the arena is filled with every color in the rainbow, as spotlights search the crowd! While the stage is illuminated by an ever-changing pallet of color, Alex Zenon slowly steps from the curtain, head down and clearly not dressed to compete. He removes the hoody on his pullover and flips his long hair out of his eyes, and surveys the crowd with a smirk, receiving a highly positive reaction. Stevens: "It's Alex Zenon! I wonder what he wants out here tonight!" Alex makes his way down, the camera cuts to an upper-mezzanine shot of the rampway, the lyrics calling in the background… “Driven by a strange desire… I want… what I need Shaking as the sex takes hold… I lost… all control…” Those few lyrics fade away and Funyon can be heard taking over, standing by the announce table outside the ring. Funyon: "Ladies and Gentlemen... please welcome to the ring, Alex Zenon!" The lights flicker erratically over the crowd, swooping and cutting in all directions. The camera is suddenly wiped out by the blinding flash of a passing light… and refocuses with a cut to the ring, as Alex has now reappeared to the pupils of the thousands in the arena. He climbs up onto it and stands on first and second turnbuckles, absorbing the crowds’ energetic reaction… He drops off the turnbuckles and focuses his attention on Fun yon, requesting the microphone services. Stevens: "I'm guessing he has something to say! He was able to throw one of his greatest nemesis's out of the Clusterfuck last night!" Riley: "And one of his good buddies, ha ha ha!" Stevens: "Very true, Zenon was able to throw both Kibagami and CIA out of the ring last night before falling victim to the massive power of Frost." Riley: "You might want to say how he eliminated Kibagami! The bastard!" Stevens: "I see your point, Riley. I do believe Zed went over the line there with that piledriver. The word in the back is, Silent might not even come back from that neck blow." Z receives the mic and pulls it up. He pauses for a second, hesitating on what he is about to say. Once more he lifts the mic to his lips only to push it away once more. Some of the crowd starts to get behind him, encouraging him to speak while the other half wants him to just get on with it, booing him in the process. Zenon finally lifts the mic up once more and opens his mouth... "THIS!!!" Z looks down at the mic, confused because those weren't the words he was spitting out... "IS!!!" "MAH!!!" "Oh shit" is suddenly muttered from Z, unaware that his mic is still on... "HOUSE!!!" The crowd explodes at the sudden shouts that only can come from the lips of the hardcore king himself. The lyric less version of Rammstein's "Du Haste" thunders over the speakers, and while the fans want to boo, some of them find themselves cheering for nostalgic value. Jamie Drazon walks through the curtains, and doesn't bother pausing; he continues to walk down the ramp. His hair is tied back, and his eyes are currently covered by sunglasses. A few scrapes and scars are leftover from the baseball bat courtesy of Long Dogger Pete. He is still wearing his black pants, and his cold face is unrevealing on whether he wants to fight or to chat. Stevens: "Jay Dawg seems to want to get down to some business... My only question is... is it with Zenon or does he want to speak on his own." Jay Dawg rolls into the ring and walks straight for Zenon, getting right in his face, breathing over his cheeks and sticking his nose into the forehead. Zenon stands still, fists are clenched as he is ready to scrap if situation calls for it. Jay Dawg flashes a satisfied smile as he turns from Z and walks to the ropes, reaching for a microphone. Stevens: "I'm guessing Jay Dawg isn't looking to fight after all!" JD quickly grabs the mic and is ready to talk. "Yo dude, if you ain't got nothing to say, get the fuck out and let me talk!" and the crowd don't like that one bit! Jay Dawg holds the mic down by his side as the fans let him have it with the boos. A sick smile grows over his face as he starts to inhale the boos, absorbing all their hatred for him. He pulls the sunglasses off his face, sporting a black eye, assumingly from one of the baseball bat shots. His eyelids remain closed though. "Well Z... how bout it? You got something to say. Maybe something about your bit of sadism lately... liberating... isn't it?" Zenon coldly looks down, not even acknowledging that JD referred to him as his past alias. Stevens: "I don't know what Jay Dawg is up to here... Mind games aren't his forte!" Riley: "I agree there... Jay Dawg is clearly a warrior over a leader! But who's to say he is playing mind games!?" Stevens: "I dunno... but if I'm not mistaken, Jay Dawg is talking like he wants to recruit Alex!" Jay Dawg starts to circle Zenon, stopping three quarters of the way around, facing Zenon's left side. JD lifts the mic once more. "You know Zed... sometimes the best part about pain is receiving it. Because then you dish it out with so much more aggression. But I don't need to tell you that, Z... you've taken more then your share of punishment." Stevens: "Ok... I don't know what is up with Jay Dawg here, but he's gotten more dangerous since being away!" Riley: "Let's only hope so!" Z is developing a bit of tears, as he is clearly being upset by Jay Dawg's actions. The crowd also starts to tear the returnee a new one as many begin their chants. From "Jay Dawg Sucks!" to "Just Shut Up!" as the crowd clearly can't think of how to insult him cooperatively. "So how about it Zed... Dishing out pain is the shit, isn't it. It's even better then being high... knowing that you put that person on the stretcher. Does it tickle your insi..." and Z snatches the mic away from Jay Dawg! "LISTEN YOU PSYCHOTIC BASTARD!! I'M NOT LIKE YOU!! NOW GET AWAY BEFORE I GET A HIGH... KICKING YOUR ASS!!!" explodes out Zenon, and the crowd loves every second of it! Jay Dawg curses to himself for a second but quickly covers it up with a smile. He reaches for the mic from Z, and surprisingly, he receives it and the crowd don't like that, and let him know it. "KICK HIS ASS!!! KICK HIS ASS!!" "Congrads Zed... You passed. If you want, we could scrap, but I personally would rather shake your hand." JD sticks his arm out, extending his hand and the crowd does not appreciate it one bit. Stevens: "Ok, a bit of change for momentum for Jay Dawg and Zenon here!" Riley: "Bah... everyone thinks JD is this violent person, but look at Zenon... he just threatened physical harm on one of the greatest hardcore champs of all time! He can at least apologize with a handshake!" Stevens: "You are so full of crap!" "Come on Zenon. Shake my hand; I'm not in the mood to fight anyway." Z places his hands on his hips, hesitating then impulsively shoves Jay Dawg away! The proclaimed king of hardcore takes a step or two back, and smiles at the aggression displayed. He steps forward once more, his eyelids remain closed but he is clearly staring at Zenon with a smile. The crowd is fully behind Z as he stares back at Jay Dawg, ready to fight. JD pulls the mic back to his lips, seemingly not finished yet. "Ahh good Z... you're learning. Have your fun." Jay Dawg tosses the mic at Z and the youngster catches it with ease. Stevens: "Ok... that was unexpected." Jay Dawg turns around and heads for the ropes toward the ramp. Upon reaching them, he pauses and rests his arms on the top rope. He calls over another ring assistant and requests another microphone. The ringcrew seems to be prepared as they promptly hand him another mic. Jay Dawg grabs the mic and pulls it up. "By the way, Z. Remember that discussion of pain..." JD calmly speaks, and a few of the fans see the eyelids open. "Maybe you haven't received enough!" Jay Dawg launches off the ropes and... POW!!! The stiffest right hand punch you will ever see connects right in the jaw of Alex Zenon! The blow staggers him back to the ropes but he immediately bounces off them. Jay Dawg grabs himself a handful of the auburn hair, holding it tightly, his sadistic eyes pierce into Zenon. Jay Dawg thrusts his forehead and SMACK, drives it into the face of Alex Zenon. JD releases the hair and Z is ready to fight. The former Carnie leader throws a punch at JD, but Jay Dawg ducks the punch, spins 180 degrees, and shoots his leg into the air, reverse spinkick to the jaw of Z! Stevens: "Jay Dawg was ready for the blow and hit Z with a modified Thai Roundhouse!" Jay Dawg starts to tap his foot into the mat as Z surprisingly remains standing. Finally he lunges forward, leaping in the air, spinning the full 360 degrees, and crushes Z in the face with the Thai Roundhouse! The blow knocks Z down and down hard. All around the arena, the crowd goes nuts at the violence of Jay Dawg. Stevens: "And the Thai Roundhouse kick seemingly knocked out Z! What is Jay Dawg's problem!? He just attacked Alex Zenon for no reason!" Riley: "Since when does Jay Dawg need a reason to hurt someone?" Jay Dawg starts to pace around, looking down at the fallen body of Zenon. He shakes his head for a second then walks to the ropes, dropping to his ass and rolls under the bottom rope. He slides outside then reaches under the ring apron, pulling out a box casing. Stevens: "Jay Dawg is looking for a weapon, it looks like it's going to be that trumpet casing or something!" He slides the casing into the ring and rolls back in himself. Z begins to stagger about as Jay Dawg drops the casing and turns back to Zenon. The crowd plead with Jay Dawg to let it end now, fully aware that whatever is in that case, can not be good. JD pulls Z into a standing headscissors, and crosses the mans arms over his own throat. Jay Dawg grinds the arms into the throat as he stares straight ahead, if possible it's almost as if he is staring through the arena. He leaps into the air, contracts his legs while extending the body of Z into a horizontal line... SMASH!!! Connecting with the JD's Revenge! Zenon has been rendered helpless as Jay Dawg pulls him by his arms off the mat. He pulls the man back into a standing headscissors and the fans let him have it with reactions that are anything but positive. Stevens: "Oh my god Jay Dawg! Enough is enough, Brian or someone, get some help out here!" As if merci came over him, JD releases the crossarmed headscissors. The exhales of relief in the crowd can be heard but that soon turns to sheer hate as Jay Dawg may have released Z, but he picks up the casing. He opens the casing up and pulls out a shiny metal bar, no bigger then two feet, and about as wide as a weight bar. JD picks the bar up and grabs a hold of Z by the hair. The crowd looks on in sheer horror as Jay Dawg holds Z up by the hair, and with his right hand, swings the bar across... SMACK!!! Blood instantly spurts out as Jay Dawg smokes Z in the jaw with it. Keeping his grip on the hair, Jay Dawg swings the bar backward... SMACK!!! Blood begins to pour out of the mouth from Jay Dawg's violent swing. He once again pulls it out as far as he can, holding the hair tightly, swinging hard with all his strength... SMACK..........CRRRRRRRRRRACK!!! And if Z could speak right now, he'd howl out in pain! Jay Dawg swings again, but with some merci, hits Z in the stomach, dropping the man to his hands and knees. Stevens: "Oh my god, this is just sick! Z must have a broken jaw, why isn't anyone coming down!?" Z coughs out; the only voice he can make is the sick gagging on his own blood. Jay Dawg shakes his head. "We ain't done yet, Zenon!" Jay Dawg swings the bar down, directing it straight into the ribcage of one Mr. Zenon. "ARRRGGGHHH!!!" The combination of having his own blood in his mouth and the air driven out of him, as the blow is sure to have broken his ribs; Z can only pray that it will be over now. But Jay Dawg's and Zenon's gods currently don't see eye to eye as Jay Dawg swings the bar down hard once more, driving it sickly into the back of Zenon's head. Z is knocked out instantly as an adrenaline pumped Jay Dawg stands over his fallen body. His eyes pierce into the blood and broken bones of the mess known as Z. It's over now, maybe the gods do see eye to eye after all. Stevens: "Dear god! Somebody get a paramedic! Jay Dawg has lost it!" Riley: "He's probably pissed that TNT won the Clusterfuck!" Stevens: "That is no reason for this behavior!" Jay Dawg drops the bar into the pool of blood that is forming. He takes a deep breath and looks coldly into the crowd. Every single one of them are booing his actions. JD takes a few deep breaths, looking at the crowd, despite doing very little; his own power trip took some energy from him. Regaining his composure, Jay Dawg lets a smile spread wide across his face, enjoying the hate directed at him. Stevens: "Jay Dawg isn't just liking this reaction... he's encouraging it!" The crowd continues to boo as Jay Dawg smiles at his destruction of Zenon. He raises his arm and holds it in the air, clenching his fist, the smile is wiped off his face as the fist clenches. JD looks down at Zenon again, and then finally heads to the ropes. He steps between the ropes and drops to the floor. He proceeds to walk up the ramp, coldly looking forward. As he does that, a pair of paramedics runs down to the ring, hoping to check on Zenon. Stevens: "Ok... that was just... cold! Jay Dawg came out and just absolutely destroyed Zenon... and then he just walks out like it was just a match. What is wrong with that man!?" Riley: "He's Sado-masochist my friend! The only thing he likes more then receiving pain is delivering it!" One of the paramedics pulls out a flashlight, and tries to look into the eyes of Zenon. The man can't even move his own fingers, so the medic turns to his co worker. "Get the stretcher!" upon the end of the phrase, the hearts in the fans sink considerably. Stevens: "Jesus... we're getting some help for Z here. Hopefully he'll be alright. What took these EMT's so long to get out here?" Riley: "I don't know... but something tells me this was both A) a message to the SWF from Jay Dawg and B) Zenon wasn't Jay Dawg's first choice, nor will he be his last victim!" Stevens: "I hate to say it, but I think you are right!" The EMT checks Z once more, hoping he'd wake up before reaching the stretcher. It's no use, as the partner slides the stretcher into the ring. Cut to commercial. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Grand Slam Report post Posted February 8, 2003 “Welcome back folks,” announces Mark Stevens, “I’m Grand Slam Mark Stevens, along side my cohort in calling all the exciting SWF brand action, Bobby Riley and your watching SWF Storm,” says the Heavy Hitter, taking a breath… which gives Bobby enough time to but in. “Not one to restate the obvious… oh no,” quips Riley, with a wave of his hand, “perish the thought, Grand Master of the Obvious!” Stevens glares at Riley before readjusting his tie and coughing. “We are LIVE, from the filled to capacity Civic Center in Hartford, Connecticut!” bellows Mark. “Opening today’s show, we heard from the winner of Cluster…” Grand Slam covers his mouth remembering what TV channel they’re on. “Err… the recent pay per view and the subsequent number one contender to the SWF World Heavyweight Title, “T-N-T”, Taylor Nicholas Thompson! “We’ve seen a squash-err… devastating beating taken by Xero, from the Tom Flesher Frost tandem and some other stuff that I don’t quite remember,” rambles Riley, chuckling a bit, “but come on… I can’t be bothered with actually remembering the card, can I?!” “*ahem*, we’ve seen a scintillating six man between the Magnificent Seven and what I’d like to call-“ But Bobby quickly interjects, which can only mean one thing… This can’t be good. “Long, Wild and Dangerous, just like King’s-” “Actually, I dubbed them the Wild and Dangerous, Doggahs,” interrupts Stevens, countering Riley’s perverse imagination quickly, “which fits the situation much better, thank you very much.” Grand Slam continues from where he left off, as Bobby sulks at the table. “Plus, we’ve seen one half of the unlikely number one contenders to the SWF Tag Team Titles, CIA take on Stryke in singles competition.” “And we’re about to see the other half of that team,” begins Riley, “Mak Francis who has had issues with my puro god and yours… actually let’s just call him one part of the M7’s holy trinity!” “Danny Williams is definitely a great grappler,” starts Mark, shaking his head, “but could you really call them a holy trinity?” questions the Heavy Hitter. “What you just said is sacrilege!” “Meh,” says a shrugging Riley, “no biggie.” “Anyways, back to this match up, which really has some serious back story, correct Bobby?” Bobby misses his cue looking at something shinny, so Stevens continues on. “Way back in December,” says Mark with a pause, “”The Franchise” Mak Francis had what some would call an upset victory over the United States champion Danny Williams in a non title match. This lead to some hostilities between the two in January, as Francis challenged Williams to step up to the plate and defend the title against him.” “And that lead to Francis’s former tag partner, Ced Ordonez, getting an introduction into the concussion ward for the second time in a month and out for an indefinite amount of time.” adds Bobby apparently remembering his job. “And it was really funny when that DDR thing, kept talking even after his bloody head, cracked the screen!” “And that leads to this match, after the PPV-” “You mean Clusterf*beep*?” “*Sigh* Yes Bobby…” groans Stevens. “This is a very personal contest as everything Mak Francis is, Danny Williams hates with a passion!” Suddenly, the house lights shut off, as the wispy sounds of a digital xylophone echo throughout the arena… Funyon takes his cue and introduces the first member of this one on one match up. “This match is scheduled for ONE FALL and is for the SMARKS WRESTLING FEDERATION, United States TITLEEEEEEEEE!” You can feel the pulsation of the light dings, as a hard beat done by violins, suddenly strikes up slightly overshadowing the original background rhythm. “So do you wanna’ be a Franchise… And live large… A big house… five cars…” The SmarkTron flares up with a blue and white photonegative image of Mak Francis, which is followed by ‘The Franchise’ in large green lettering, flashing on the screen in time with the beat. “The rent charge… Comin’ up in the world, don’t trust nobody… Gotta’ look over your shoulder constantly!” As the opening lyrics from Rock Superstar by Cypress Hill, slightly altered of course, blare over the PA system, it takes a little while but eventually the self proclaimed franchise makes his way through the curtain. The lights come back up and Francis comes out onto the stage, tilting his shades down on the bridge of his nose, before looking left and then right… “I remember the days, when I was a young kid grownin’ up… Lookin’ in the mirror dreamin’ about blowin’ up!” PWI-SHOW! PWI-SHOW! PWI-SHOW! PWI-SHOW! That cues multiple short bursts of green pyrotechnics erupting from either side of him. He readjusts his shades with a smirk, before slowly strolling down to ringside, to a healthy reaction! “The challenger, making his way to ringside and weighing in tonight at two hundred and twenty five pounds, from Philadelphia, PA… “The Franchise” MAAAK FRAAAAANCISsssssss!” After walking up the ring steps, he cockily wipes his feet on the apron, giving a salute to the crowd, mockingly or not, no one except him knows, before entering through the middle ropes. Mak quickly climbs the nearest turnbuckle and poses with both fists raised in the air, eliciting a pop from the audience! “The Franchise has seemly won the SWF crowd over,” notices Mark, as a side note, “And that is understandable with his affiliation to the Midnight Carnival and vendetta with the Magnificent Seven!” “He’s just jealous that they tossed him out on his ear!” adds Bobby, as Francis gets off the turnbuckle and stands in the corner. “Someone needs to show him AND his prima-donna attitude, because his ego’s so big that you could consider it a separate person, that being young doesn’t give anybody a free pass to back talk someone better than you!” “Well, I think Francis’s attitude is what helps him wrestle at such a high level, don’t you?” The gentle melodies of In Flame’s “Jester’s Dance” echoes through the arena, triggering a chorus of “boos”. Williams pushes his way through the heavy curtains draping from the locker room entrance, and slowly makes his way out to the platform. “No,” replies Riley curtly, “and here is the man that’s gonna’ do what I just said!” Funyon spots Williams on the ramp and gives him the introduction he deserves. “And his opponent, hailing from Louisville, Kentucky and weighing in tonight at two hundred and thirty eight pounds… He is the REIGNING, S-W-F, UNITED STATES CHAMPION… “Deathwish” DAAAAANNNNY WILLIAAAAAAMSsssssss!” With the object of their hatred now in clear sight, the fans taunts become even louder. Williams lets the negative reaction bounce right off of him, and slowly makes his way down to the ring like he has all the time in the world. As one of the camera men backs down the ramp, giving us a close up of Danny. Williams decides to pie face the guy, causing him to bust his ass and roll down the ramp! The crowd heckles him even more, after that display of contempt for the world. “Man, what an ass!” mutters Stevens as Williams gets to ringside. Francis hops back and forth a little, smirking as always when Williams enters the ring through the ropes. He hands his belt over to Sexton Hardcastle, who raises it in the air for all to see and then Hardcastle hands the belt to a ring attendant, before asking for the bell. DING! DING! DING! Danny warms up a little while turning the circle and Francis fakes a shoot at Williams’s leg, before the two men pick up the pace, coming together in a collar and elbow tie up! Mak and Danny jockey for position, and Francis drops that for a single leg takedown. He pushes Williams, but the heavier man does not fall, instead snitching in a front face lock! Mak releases the leg as Williams sandbags forcing them both onto the mat! Francis, on his stomach slips out of the chancery rotating Danny’s arm into a hammerlock, putting himself back in control, before releasing the hold and riding ‘Deathwish’! As Francis spins into a front face lock of his own, Danny pushes himself up and knocks the Franchise onto his back with a single leg takedown! Mak catches Williams with a boot to the chest backing him away and he gets to one knee, while the crowd shows it approval and Grand Slam talks about buying the Clusterfuck pay per view replay, plus the in ring action. “And what a pay per view it was Bobby and you can catch the replay this Sunday night!” shills Stevens. “Anyways, Danny Williams is a top SWF competitor and was one of the three people involved in the pay per view triple threat, after that twenty man battle royal, so there is no question about his stamina and skill, but can he really stay in control of a Division I A collegiate athlete, who’s a multi NCAA and US National Amateur champion, on the mat like this!” “Well, Danny is God and therefore infinitely better than someone that’s just Franchisable!” quips Riley. Mak and Danny circle again, then they crash together, pushing and pulling for an advantage. Francis scores a side headlock, which Williams tries to fight the hold by pushing shooting Mak into the ropes, but Danny gets pulled over top in a headlock takedown – but the self proclaimed Franchise pushes Williams’s shoulders to the mat, but before Hardcastle can even start a count, Williams gets a head scissors pulling Francis down to the mat! Francis quickly kips up, which causes him to slide out of the head scissors, before dashing off towards the near ropes! “Notice how quick Mak is to get out of pinning situations. It’s just ingrained in his system to make sure that his back isn’t on the mat.” Williams turns over onto his belly and Francis leaps over him, hitting the far ropes as Danny pops up! The Franchise ducks a back elbow smash upon his return and rebounds back towards ‘Deathwish’, sliding into a low dropkick that hits Danny in the shin, taking his legs from under him! “Cheap shot!” yells Bobby, as Williams rolls on the ground a little before fighting off an attempt by Mak to grab said left leg, but Francis gets it anyway and steps over, placing it in between his leg, before kneeling! “Francis is going after that ankle that Frost injured!” “It’s a sound strategy Bobby.” responds Mark Steven. “Since Williams has been a little snake bitten with a previously broken nose by Annie Eclectic and high ankle break way back in his time in the Junior Leagues-” “Yeah, yeah,” interrupts Bobby Riley, “If there is something to attack, you attack it. I know… MARK!” Francis quickly drops the left leg, grabs and extends Danny’s right leg, rotating counter clockwise and twisting the knee into the shape of a four – but Williams hooks on a face lock, dragging him to the mat in a small package! Hardcastle dives into position to count… ONE TWO- No. Mak breaks out of the small package, rolling away from Williams and ending up to one knee. But ‘Deathwish’ Danny Williams is already up, seeming not slowed down and he dashes forward, as Francis stands, flat out plastering him with a hooking lariat that sends Mak to the mat! The crowd boos as Williams shakes out his arm, selling the viciousness of the blow, before picking Francis up by the scruff of his neck. Williams fires off two quick and dirty elbows… CRACK! CRACK! …That dazes Mak, as he gets sent to run the ropes by a ‘Deathwish’ Irish whip! The Franchise bounds back towards the middle of the ring, as Williams turns and levels him with a back elbow smash! Mak’s head hits the canvas and bounces from the velocity, knocking him up into a sitting position, but Danny is quickly on him again with a front face lock! “Danny’s strikes are by far the stiffest shots I’ve ever seen.” Mentions Mark. “His elbows outdo any normal right hand, knife edge chop or shotei!” “And Mak is feeling those effects right now.” Mak pushes forward and gets up to one knee - but Williams suddenly hooks a hand in his tights, lifting him high overhead and stalling slightly, before bringing him back down to the canvas with a picture perfect vertical suplex! Danny floats over into a lateral press, with his forearm across the face of Francis, as Sexton Hardcastle hits the mat… ONE TW- No. Not even a two count, as Francis neck bridges, sliding out from under Williams pin! ‘Deathwish’ from a knee, turns to see the back of Mak’s boot clock him in the face, by a quick back kick! The self proclaimed Franchise blitzes to the near ropes, using momentum to add speed to his flipping neck snap, as Williams sits up from the back kick! The audience shows their approval by cheering as Mak picks Williams up and whips him into a neutral corner! Danny hits the turnbuckle hard and Mak takes a step to the left, then charges forward, leaping in a bronco buster like fashion right arm extended for a lariat – but Williams sees him coming and drops low into the corner, watching Francis sail overhead through the top and middle ropes… THUNK! …Hitting his right arm and shoulder on the post, as he falls to the outside of the ring! Riley laughs as Stevens gives his remarks on the action. “Francis going for that sideswipe clothesline and Danny Williams had him scouted!” “When has Danny ever not been prepared for a match, I ask you?” responds Bobby with a look to his announce partner. “Good point…” Williams pulls himself up with an assist from the ropes, and is all business as he steps through the cables to take some liberties with a slightly disabled Franchise. Hardcastle starts the count, “ONE!”, as Danny walks up to Mak and picks him up, “TWO!”, dragging him towards the steel steps, “THREE!”, while blasting him with three elbow strikes… CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! …And then Irish whips him into the steel steps! WHAAM! The crowd ‘oohs’ is sympathy for Francis, who rolls on the ground a little, as Williams flashes a toothy grin, showing off his chipped front fang. “FOUR!” yells Sexton Hardcastle before admonishing Williams, but Danny just blows him off and rolls under the bottom rope, just to roll back outside, breaking the count! This causes the crowd to get on him even more as he reaches over to pick Mak up – but the self proclaimed Franchise executes a backwards roll, landing him in a tuck, which he pops up out of lunging forward and grabbing a front face lock! “DDT on the outside!” yells Stevens, but he was a little to quick to call the action, as Williams reaches down and trips him up with a double leg takedown! “Countered by Williams!” ugh, pardon the punage… counters Riley - but Mak isn’t on the mat for long as Danny lifts him off the protective matting, still holding onto his legs and giant swings Francis shoulder first into the STEEL~! Some people cringe, Riley cheers and Mak just holds his right shoulder in pain! “Danny Williams is just a bad man.” states Bobby Riley, shaking his head. “I told you Mak picked the wrong guy to trash talk! Danny Williams is just too experienced and solid in and outside the ring for Francis!” “Well,” starts Stevens, “Francis maybe down right now, but the kids got heart and while I can’t condone the fact, he’ll do anything to win and that can make up for his inexperience.” ‘Deathwish’ Danny Williams grabs the aching Franchise, rolls him into the ring under the bottom ropes and follows him in. Mak tries to get up holding his shoulder and Danny toes him in the face, knocking him back down to the canvas, before holding onto the arm extending it and then dropping a knee directly on it! Williams stands again, not releasing his wristlock, as he hits a second knee drop to the injured appendage! Danny goes for the trifecta and hits, sliding right into a cross arm breaker!! “Jujigatame!” shills Riley. “Williams locks in a cross arm breaker!!” As Williams hits the mat, Mak quickly and I mean QUICKLY, begins to flail about on the mat scooting over towards the ropes and hooking his leg in them! Hardcastle asks for a break and gets it as Williams backs off for only a second, trying to going right back after Mak’s arm! Sexton Hardcastle steps in between him and Mak, as Francis’s is still in the ropes and Mak takes the opportunity to regain his wits. The Franchise stands and steps forward, prompting Williams to run around Sexton, dashing right into a drop toe hold! This pops the crowd as Williams gets up into a tandem of weaker left hands that back him into the ropes! The self proclaimed Franchise Irish whips Danny, sending him to run the ropes and upon his return, he eats a superkick!! Francis drops to cover Williams as Hardcastle slides into position making the count… ONE TWO T H- No. Only a two count from the superkick as Danny Williams kicks out! A stunned Danny Williams checks his nose as Francis goes to Danny’s ankle with an ankle lock – but ‘Deathwish’, even with the short bursts of pain in his shin, rolls through and sends Mak flying towards the ropes! Francis is up first and uses the ropes to steady himself, before exploding forward for a clothesline and hitting it! The crowd gets behind Mak as he waves his hands in the air, yelling come on! He blasts Danny as he rises with a few left hands that back him into the corner! The Franchise yanks Williams out of the corner and sends him to the opposite one with AUTHORITY~! Mak follows up by taking a step to the right and dashing in after him, leaping in a bronco buster like fashion left arm extended for a lariat – AND HITTING IT! “Sideswipe clothesline finds its mark!” yells Stevens as Mak slides through the top and second cables, onto the apron. “Williams is in trouble here!” The Franchise points to the air, before grabbing the top rope and slingshotting himself over, while hooking on a headlock and crashing down to the canvas! Williams flips over onto his back and Francis immediately shows up Danny with a pelvic thrust of truthittude, to which the crowd says “HEY~!!!”… uh, wrong guy, but it’s still cool… anyways, he backs up, bouncing off the far ropes to gain momentum, as he struts pimpishly towards his fallen foe and the crowd is eating it up! “Sometimes the Truth Hurts folks,” quips Stevens as Riley fumes at the display, “but it needs to be said!” “This is a disgrace,” pouts Riley. “Although that was a pretty neat pelvic thrust…” Just as Mak is a few steps away from delivering the strutting fist drop, Danny Williams rolls out of the ring and to the outside for a breather! The crowd boos at the interruption of the most disrespectful combo in the game today and rotates his right arm a few times to loosen the shoulder. Danny checks his nose again and notices a little blood trailing from his nostril, which upsets him greatly, but is easily cleaned off with the back of his hand. Meanwhile, “THREE!”, Hardcastle has reached the count of, “FOUR!”, but that gets broken up as “The Franchise” Mak Francis propels himself up and over the top, to the outside and DIRECTLY onto Danny Williams with a slingshot cross body… … …or it WOULD have been directly on him if he hadn’t sidestepped! Mak crashes to the lightly protected ground with a THUD and Danny, I’m sure to make sure he’s still alive, picks Francis up and hoists him onto his shoulder in a body slam like fashion, before dropping him on the barricade in a modified SHOULDER BREAKER!! “ONE!” chants Hardcastle, as ‘Deathwish’ holds onto Francis lifting him up again before he lets’ the bottom fall out, for a second barricade drop, this time throat first!! “TWO!” bellows Hardcastle as a few crowd members attempt to pat Mak on the back, while he gasps for air on the ground! “THREE!” “Williams back to work on that injured arm and shoulder.” comments the Heavy Hitter as Danny rolls back into the ring leaving Mak high and dry at “FOUR!” in the count. “Also adding on a throat first drop on the barricade, for what I assume to be, kicks!” “FIVE!” “Once again the sign of a great veteran!” adds Bobby Riley snickering at Williams taunting the crowd and Francis who’s attempt to crawl his way back to the ring. “He doesn’t need to pin Francis or make him submit to keep the title.” notes Riley. “And if Mak doesn’t have the fortitude to get back into the ring, then he doesn’t deserve a shot at Danny’s title!” “He’s an ass…” mumbles a candid Grand Slam Mark Stevens. “SIX!” yells Hardcastle as Mak makes it up onto the apron, but ‘Deathwish’ corrals him by the neck attempting to bring him in the ring the hard way, with a vertical suplex AND HE HITS!! Francis arches his back in pain as Williams rolls through into a seated mount and pounds on Francis like there is no tomorrow! Mak quickly counters though, pushing Danny off him, but ‘Deathwish’ springs to his feet and kicks the everlovin’ crap out of the Franchise’s back, following that up with a chop to the chest! Williams rinse, washes and repeats the process blasting back all over with nasty strikes, before picking up his weary body for a scoop slam and hits! Williams pulls Mak’s arm away from his body and quickly climbs the second buckle, diving off in a flying Second Rope Knee Drop! He goes for the cover as Mak squirms underneath… ONE TWO T H- No! Francis kicks out just before two and a half! Williams, gaining some enjoyment from beating the crap out of Mak decides to end the game and drop him on his head with a German suplex! He pulls the self proclaimed Franchise up to his feet and hoists him up - but Mak blocks it by lacing his leg with Danny’s! Francis lands on the mat and rolls through, ending up in an ankle lock!! “What a counter from Francis!” Williams yells in pain, but is soon able to roll through and pulls Mak down to the mat with an arm bar takedown settling right into a fujiwara arm bar on the right shoulder!! Francis flails towards the ropes and gets in them forcing a break, but Williams will not be deterred for dropping his opponent on his head! He snitches in a back waist lock and pulls Francis away from the ropes!! “He’s trying again!” says Riley. “German Suplex of the dangerous release variety coming up!” A hurt and groggy Mak, from all that action on the outside, wrenches at Williams’s fingers, but can’t break free, so he scores a back elbow to the face… and a second… and a third, causing Danny to release the hold! The Franchise executes a standing switch, grabbing a back waist lock and tossing a surprised ‘Deathwish’ Danny Williams overhead in a German suplex of his own!! In mid suplex, Francis’s grips weakens, causing the suplex to be closer to a release German but Mak attempts to hold the bridge anyway and even though Hardcastle was in position, he is forced to let go because of the searing pain in his arm!! Mak, not being one to quit, rolls through and lifts both himself and Williams up to their vertical base, getting a pop from the crowd, as he goes for a second German suplex – but Danny scores with one quick elbow strike… CRACK! …And then goes right into a standing switch! Williams arches his back and hoists Mak overhead dumping him on the back of his head and shoulders, deflating the crowd that was once again starting to rally behind Francis. Mak flops over onto his stomach and bangs his leg on the mat, probably just to prove he’s still alive! ‘Deathwish’ gets up to his knees and cracks his neck before standing up and slowly walking over to Francis. “Bout time!” shouts Riley and the crowd boos now as Williams toes Francis over onto his back! Williams covers with a lateral press as Hardcastle counts… ONE TWO T H R E- No! Francis gets a shoulder up! Danny glares at Hardcastle, clapping his hands together three times and yelling for a faster count. Williams then proceeds to cover again… ONE TWO T H R- No! Francis raises the shoulder again! Williams looks a bit upset about this, but grabs Francis’s right arm and steps over into a pumphandle arm bar! Mak screams out in agony as Williams tightens his grip on the arm! Williams shouts for Hardcastle to check him, as in for a submission and Sexton walks around to Francis asking him! Mak shakes his head no, but as Danny puts more torque on the sub, the Franchise grabs Hardcastle’s leg telling him not to ring the bell… A bold gesture from the Franchise that would be considered upstanding, if, he didn’t do it just so that the referee wouldn’t see him hit a low blow on Danny, while in the pumphandle!! “Like I said Bobby,” starts Stevens, “I might not condone it, but Mak Francis will do ANYTHING to win.” “That’s just unfair treatment of gods testicles… maybe I should go see if they’re all right!” Stevens just shakes his head and the crowd lets loose a mighty roar, as Danny keels over and falls to one knee and Francis is on his quickly on him with repeated left handed elbows to the back of his neck! Williams tries to power his way to his feet, still cradling his nuts with his right hand, so Mak takes the opportunity to Irish whip him – but Danny still has the wherewithal to reverse the whip and send Mak on his way!! The self proclaimed Franchise hits the ropes and comes back looking for a clothesline, only to get back body dropped over the top rope – BUT MAK LANDS ON THE APRON!!! “BAAAACK BODY DROP – NO REVERSAL!” yells Grand Slam, as Williams turns around to see the carnage he’s done and only gets a brief glimpse of his Franchisable opponent soaring overhead, rolling down his back and pulling him down to the mat with a one armed sunset flip!!! Sexton drops to the mat as Francis tries to slide his feet over Williams outstretched arms… ONE TWO T H R- No! Danny rolls out of the Sunset flip!! Mak tries to quickly scamper up to his feet, feeding off the energy of the crowd as they chant “Franchise!”, but Williams is up first and gains he advantage with a kick to the gut! Mak bends at the waist as Williams snitches in a face lock for his spike DDT – but the Franchise holds onto the ropes send Danny down to the mat, with a head to DDT!! Williams pops up to his feet, as the self proclaimed Franchise backs away, weary but bouncing off the ropes behind him for momentum all the same… Raising his leg for the high kick… And Francis levels Williams with a Yakuza kick sending him down to the canvas like a ton of bricks!! The crowd explodes in cheers as Mak falls on his chest for the cover!! Hardcastle slides under the ropes half his body on the outside to be in proper position!!! ONE! TWO! T H R E E NOOOOOO! Hardcastle stops inches away from the mat as he sees Williams put his foot on the ropes! Mak, tired and angry, shows that he still makes rookie mistakes argues with Hardcastle over the call, giving Danny the breather he needs to catch his breath! “Francis get your head back in the game and on your opponent!” shouts Stevens, but Mak can’t hear him and Danny grabs a hold of the ropes and pulls himself up as Mak continues arguing, before stumbling forward and turning Francis around into an elbow… CRACK! …that he follows by spinning 360°… “It’s all over if he hits the roaring elbow!” shouts Riley. “He’ll be able to lock in that cross arm breaker with no problems if Mak takes THE elbow of all elbows! Hell, Mak won’t even kick out of the damn Rolling Elbow~!” But Francis ducks and wrenches Williams arm out before attempting to kick hiss legs from underneath him to go into a cross arm breaker – but Danny hops the sweep and rotates clockwise simply demolishing Mak with a roaring elbow!! Francis crumples to the mat and ‘Deathwish’ falls into a cover, this time hooking the leg!!! ONE! TWO! T H R E E! NOOOOOO! Francis, somehow, someway gets a shoulder up! Williams stares a hole into Hardcastle before picking Mak up and whipping him into the ropes! Danny takes a step forward, leaping into the air and raising his leg for the high kick!!!! The move that has put down the likes of even the most hardcore in Annie Eclcetic! “PURO POWER, THE DYNAMIC KICK~!” shouts Riley prematurely, as Francis ducks the strike. Mak continues to the ropes and bounces off raising his leg for his second Yakuza kick of the night, this one in the center of the ring! “YAKUZA KICK~!” shouts Stevens prematurely this time, as Danny ducks the blow meant to put him down once and for all! Mak turns around, his eyes wide like dinner plates, as Williams pops him with multiple elbow strikes… CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! “Devastating elbows from Williams… just devastating…” comments Stevens. “I bet you’re glad you won’t ever get hit with one of those!” “Damn straight…” Francis is out on his feet as Danny spins him around standing slightly off to his side preparing to lift him up for what could only be a Dangerous Backdrop… … But Mak raps his leg around ‘Deathwish’s’ shin… blocking the move! Danny continues to pull but can’t take the strain on his ankle and the Franchise lands to the mat, quickly getting a drop toe hold!! Mak pushes himself to grab the ankle and twists for all he’s worth… Danny cries out in pain and anguish, as Hardcastle asks him if he wants to submit – but Danny rolls through JUST LIKE BEFORE into a fujiwara arm bar and this time Mak is nowhere near the ropes! Francis hollers in agony as the shooting pain continues to burn in his arm! It’s only been a few seconds and he can barely stand the pain!! But Francis, nothing else left to save him, reaches back and laces his arm in between Danny leg’s, and rolls into a textbook amateur cradle!!! Hardcastle counts… “NO! DANNY! You can’t lose…” shouts Riley. ONE! Williams notices he’s being pinned… TWO! Danny releases the fujiwara… T H R E E! But the cradle gets the pin all the same! DING! DING! DING! “The winner of this contest by pinfall, AND YOUR NEW SWF US CHAMPION, “THE FRANCHISE” MAAAAK FRAAAAANCISssssssssssss!” “What a textbook counter by Francis out of the fujiwara arm bar!” announces Stevens as Riley sits dumbstruck. Bobby Riley is without words, what is the world coming to! “It took a Yakuza kick, several ankle locks AND a not so flashy finish for the Franchise to pull this one out!” “I don’t get it!” says Riley. “Danny took out the arm so that he couldn’t hit the Franchise tag or any of his big suplexes… it was a perfect strategy!” “Well,” adds Stevens, “I can’t explain it either and nor will I try because whether you want to believe it or not, Francis is your NEW US Champion! When we come back, our Main Event… Perfect Bo versus the reigning World champion, El Luchadore Magnifico, in a non title bout!” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Grand Slam Report post Posted February 8, 2003 The final commercial of the final commercial break slowly fades into nothingness, before being replaced by a jarring shot of the inside of the Civic Center, packed to the brim with screaming fans! As the SWF Storm theme hits the speakers, the shot pans over the crowd, showcasing such signs as “The King’s Road is Was a Dead End!” and “TNT= Best Clusterfucker EVAR!” along with the usual bevy of “Carnies Rule!” and “Mag 7 Suck!” signs. Finally, we cut to the announce desk, were Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley wait patiently, eager to continue the show. Stevens: Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen! We have had an incredible show thus far, as the SWF is coming off of what was a fantastic Clusterfuck last Sunday! Riley: Fantastic, my ass! Oh sure, Thugg’s neck is broken and he’s probably paralyzed, and TNT made complete fools out of nineteen other Superstars to win the Clusterfuck, but the joy those events bring me cannot cancel out the sorrow that was the Ladder Submission Match! Stevens: Ah yes, when Magnifico made Flesher tap- Riley: AHHHHH! The memories! Stevens: -and successfully defended the title by doing so! Riley: You’re just doing this to annoy me! Flesher was screwed six ways from Sunday on, um, Sunday, and you know it! Stevens: Oh, why don’t you cry go about it. Anyway, we’ve reached tonight’s Main Event, pitting two of the winners from Clusterfuck, El Luchadore Magnifico and Perfect Bo, against each other! I’m sure you folks at home are as tired as I am of Riley’s bitching, so let’s hand it over to Funyon! Riley: I am not bitching! *sob* Funyon stands proudly in the middle of the ring, tuxedo on and microphone ready, as the fans murmur excitedly all around him. Suddenly, the lights dim into a dark blue type color with a fire type reddish color hovering over the darkness. The SWFTron awakens with the words "Wait is Over" as it quickly juggles with scenes of Bo's greatest moments and victories. As a loud voice echos around the arena stating "Damn Homie, in Highschool you was man Homie...what the fuck happen you." Funyon: The following non-title contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from the New York City, New York, he weighs in at two hundred and eighty-five pounds...Perrrrrfect Boooooooo!! The song "Wanksta" by 50 cent starts to play as Bo slowly comes out from behind the curtains to a chorus of boos. Bo has his head down but he slowly raises it up to see the crowd as they boo him with no remorse. Bo looks around with a sly smirk on his lips as he cracks his neck. He slowly descends himself down the ramp and stops right in the middle of the ramp. He looks to his left and to his right, then raises both his hands, exposing his middle and index fingers crossed together as his pinky and thumb sticks out leaving the ring finger curled up in his palms. As both arms reach their peaks, two red pyros blast from the ground into the air as the SWFTron changes images to two words implanted on the screen that say "THUG LIFE". Still smirking, Bo breaks his pose and heads towards the ring, climbing up on the apron and through the ropes as the deafening sound from the pyro echoes throughout the arena. Riley: Now see, how is it that a fine, upstanding wrestler like Bo gets a match with our joke of a World Champion, but doesn’t get a shot at the Title itself? Stevens: Fine and upstanding?! For God’s sake, he broke a man’s neck on live television! Riley: Your point being...? Stevens: *sigh* Even if Bo wasn’t a despicable and vile human being, TNT is officially next in line for a World Title shot, as he was the winner of last Sunday’s Clusterfuck and received the #1 Contendership as a result. As Bo begins some light stretching and neck-cracking in the ring, his music slowly fades out, leaving the arena eerily silent until... UNO! BOOM! DOS! BOOM! TRES! BOOM! CUATRO! BOOM! ...until a Mexican voice shouts numbers over the speakers, accompanied by bursts of pyro shooting upwards from each corner! The fans immediately begin cheering their little hearts out, only growing louder as El Luchadore Magnifico bursts out from behind the curtain, waving his Mexican Flag proudly with one hand and clutching the World Title with the other. Grinning wildly, Magnifico pauses at the top of the ramp and slowly raises his arms to a forty-five degree angle, creating a primo photo opportunity that those with the benefit of flash photography take advantage of. Funyon: And now, from Mexico City, Mexico, weighing in at one hundred and ninety-three pounds, he is the SWF World Heavyweight Champion...El Luchadooooooorre Magnificoooooooo!! Upon hearing his name, ELM breaks from his pose and quickly heads down the ramp, slapping fans’ hands as he goes. As Magnifico approaches the ring, he breaks into a run and slides head first onto the apron, gliding under the bottom rope and into the ring as Bo glares down at him. ELM returns the glare with a mischievous grin, before popping back to his feet and hopping onto the second turnbuckle of the nearby corner. Once there, Magnifico resumes his wild flag-waving, sucking a little more heat from the crowd before hopping back off and heading over to the referee. ELM hands over his flag and his belt, leaving his arms free for a little pre-match stretch. Seeing that everything is in order, the referee signals over to the timekeeper, who diligently rings the bell. DING DING DING Stevens: Well, Bo may not be getting a title shot at the moment, but rest assured that if he is victorious tonight, Bo will surely have a chance at the World Title in the future. Riley: Oh, great, what an incentive. Bo puts the HVille Twit in the hospital and beats the hell out of Magnifico, and he MAY get the CHANCE to POSSIBLY receive a World Title shot. Wonderful. With the bell rung and the match officially started, Magnifico and Bo begin to slowly circle each other around the ring, gradually approaching each other and the center of the ring as they do so. Once they’re close enough to each other, both men lunge forward and lock up, engaging in a struggle for control to start the match. However, Bo quickly wins that struggle, as he simply shoves Magnifico backwards, knocking him to the ground! Undaunted, the luchadore pops back to his feet and attempts to lock up with Bo again, only to have Bo kick him in the gut as he does so! With ELM somewhat stunned from the sudden blow, Bo is able to grab the luchadore by the arm and whip him across the ring, sending him rushing towards the far ropes. Magnifico bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards Bo, and as he approaches, the Perfect One grabs ELM around the waist and lifts him into air, before spinning him around for a Tilt-a-Whirl Slam! However, Magnifico manages to twist right out of Bo’s grasp and lands on his feet directly in front him! The Perfect One snarls a bit as he lashes out with his arm, looking to connect with a Clothesline, only to have ELM deftly duck beneath it! Bo spins around to face the luchadore, just in time to see Magnifico leap into the air and kick out his feet, driving them towards Bo’s face with a Flipping Dropkick! Unfortunately for Magnifico, Bo simply swats away his feet, leaving the luchadore to fall helplessly to the mat! ELM immediately pops back to his feet, but the second the stands, Bo grabs the luchadore by the arm and whips him towards the nearby corner with incredible strength. Unable to slow himself down, Magnifico collides chest-first with the corner’s top turnbuckle, causing him to stumble backwards in a drunken daze! Ever the opportunist, Bo grabs Magnifico from behind and applies a Rear Waistlock, allowing the Perfect One to lift ELM into the air and over his head! Bo then falls backwards to the mat, slamming ELM’s back and neck into the canvas with a German Suplex! A rousing round of boos rises from the crowd as Bo floats onto Magnifico, hooking his leg for the pin as the ref slides into position and begins counting... ONE... TWO...No! Magnifico kicks out at two and a half, silencing much of the booing. Riley: Excellent start for Bo, just excellent! Not only does he easily shrug off all of Magnifico’s offense, but he also manages to nail the luchadore with a stiff German Suplex less than a minute in! Stevens: I suppose I can’t argue with that, Riley. Bo has too much to gain here for him to take this match lightly, and if I were Magnifico, I would be incredibly careful in dealing with him tonight. Bo rolls off of ELM and quickly stands back up, before reaching down, grabbing Magnifico by the hair, and painfully pulling him to his feet. Bo then wraps his hand around the luchadore’s face, palming it, before throwing Magnifico backwards and into the nearby corner. As ELM leans up against the corner, dazed, Bo begins to work the stomach area, driving kick after kick into Magnifico’s gut. After landing a good ten kicks, Bo pulls Magnifico out of the corner and whips him across the ring, sending ELM rushing towards the far corner. The Perfect One quickly gives chase, tailing only a few feet behind Magnifico as he approaches the corner. However, Bo may have made a mistake in doing that, as ELM jumps onto the corner’s second turnbuckle before leaping back off, flipping backwards over Bo’s head in the process! Bo manages to slow himself down just in time to avoid contact with the corner, but once he turns around to face Magnifico, the luchadore charges forward and throws his head into Bo’s gut, ramming him into the corner with a Spear! As a cheer rises from the excited crowd, ELM dives into a flurried attack, peppering Bo’s head and chest with dozens of quick jabs! As the attack progresses, Bo seems to get angrier and angrier, until he just seems to snap, as the Perfect One releases a mighty shout and lashes out with his arm, nearly decapitating Magnifico with a vicious Clothesline! ELM is actually flipped backwards from the force of the Clothesline before falling onto his stomach, drawing a well-deserved OHHH! and a few boos from the audience. Stevens: Ouch! It looked like Magnifico had something going there for a second, but Bo seemed to be completely impervious to the luchadore’s offense! Riley: You mean he was no-selling. Get it right, Stevens. Stevens: Way to break character, jackass. Riley: Oh, like you were the absolute model for kayfabe with all of those stupid promos. As ELM lays face-down on the mat, Bo begins to ruthlessly stomp away at the luchadore, targeting his lower back and kidney with each one of his stomps. Fighting his way through the stomps, Magnifico slowly pushes himself onto his hands and knees, which only gets Bo to switch from stomps to well-placed kicks to the kidney. Apparently bored with all the kicking and stomping, Bo reaches down, grabs Magnifico by the arm and jerks him to his feet, before using his grip to whip ELM across the ring and towards the far ropes. Magnifico approaches said ropes, but instead of bouncing off of them, the luchadore wraps his arms around the top rope, as he locks himself in place instead of charging back at Bo! Angered, Bo decides to take the initiative, as he breaks into a run and charges at Magnifico! ELM refuses to budge as Bo bears down on him...until the very last second, when Magnifico bends backwards, pulling the top rope down with him! The charging Bo isn’t able to slow himself down in time, and as a result, charges directly over the top rope and goes tumbling to the outside! The fans pop appreciatively as Bo hits the floor, arching his back in pain and shouting out curses as he does so. Stevens: Quick thinking from Magnifico, as he takes advantage of Bo’s anger and sends him crashing to the outside! Almost immediately after hitting the ground, Bo begins pushing himself back to his feet, shaking off the impact of his body with the ground as he does so. As Bo rises, Magnifico suddenly turns around and makes a break for the ropes farthest from the Perfect One! ELM bounces off of said ropes and charges back across the ring, aiming himself directly at Bo! Bo stands up just in time to see Magnifico leaping over the top rope, extending his arms and legs in mid-air for a Flying Cross-Body as he Crosses the Border! ELM makes perfect contact, crashing into Bo’s chest...only to have the Perfect One catch him in mid-air, wrapping his arms around the luchadore’s body as if for a Fallaway Slam! The crowd OHHH!s in concern as ELM struggles wildly, doing everything in his power to escape. Unfortunately, he’s unsuccessful, as Bo suddenly charges towards the corner post, holding ELM in front of him like some kind of Mexican battering ram! Magnifico’s back is driven directly into the steel post, drawing a cry of pain from the luchadore and a round of boos from the fans. Bo than backs away from the corner, a sinister grin on his face...before falling forward, slamming Magnifico into the ground and crushing him under his weight! The fans only grow louder in their booing as Bo quickly stands back up, leaving the squashed luchadore alone on the floor. At this point, Bo is made aware of the ten count by the shouting referee, who has just reached four in his counting. Bo stomps Magnifico a few times for good measure, before climbing back onto the apron and rolling back into the ring. Riley: Ah, Magnifico put forth a good effort, but it seems like Bo is to be the victor this eve. Stevens: Uh huh. Why is it that you only become eloquent when you’re spouting nonsensical bullshit? Riley: Hey, at least I know what I’m talking about, you cheap JR ripoff. Stevens: Them’s fighting words, Bobbi! Get yourself ready for a slobberknocker of a rumble! As Bo stands up inside the ring, Magnifico is just beginning to stir on the outside, starting the long climb to his feet as the ref shouts “Five!” One hand on his back, which is now shooting in pain, ELM slowly pushes himself to one knee at “Six!”, before dramatically lunging to his feet a second later. With the fans cheering, Magnifico climbs up onto the apron, drawing Bo out of his inaction and towards the apron. As he approaches the luchadore, Bo lunges out with his right hand, looking to knock Magnifico off of the apron! However, ELM manages to duck beneath Bo’s arm before shooting his hands upwards and wrapping them around Bo’s neck! Magnifico then leaps off of the apron, driving Bo’s neck down onto the second rope with a Guillotine! As the pleasantly surprised fans release a respectable pop, Bo turns around and stumbles away from the ropes, his hands around his neck as he chokes for breath. Meanwhile, Magnifico hops back up onto the apron, and, upon seeing Bo’s current state, grabs a hold of the top rope! ELM then jumps/pulls himself onto the top rope, before bouncing off of it, using the springboard effect to send himself flying towards Bo! In mid-air, Magnifico grabs Bo’s neck, before flipping over, driving Bo’s chin into his shoulder as the luchadore lands BUTT-first on the mat! The cheering only grows louder as Bo springs backwards off of Magnifico’s shoulders, falling flat on his back as he feels the effects of the South American Stunner! Wasting no time, ELM immediately throws himself onto Bo, hooking his leg for the cover as the ref slides into position and begins counting... ONE... TWO-No! Bo kicks out with force, as he literally throws Magnifico off of his body! ELM lands nearby and face-first on the mat as the fans release a surprised OHHH! Stevens: Magnifico nailed Bo with the South American Stunner, but the Perfect One shrugged it off as though it was a simple Hiptoss! Riley: It might as well have been! That was practically the first move Magnifico landed on Bo, and you’re acting as though it should have knocked him out for three days! Stevens: I’m doing no such thing. I’m simply saying that Bo’s vitality is incredible, and that Magnifico is in trouble if he doesn’t switch up his gameplan to suit that. Riley: Fine, make it all logical why don’t you. Undaunted by the easy kickout, Magnifico immediately springs back to his feet and quickly gets on Bo, stomping the Perfect One all over his body as he rises to his feet at an alarming rate. The second Bo stands, Magnifico grabs him by the arm and attempts a whip, only to have Bo effortlessly reverse it and send ELM rushing towards the far ropes. ELM bounces off of said ropes and rushes back towards Bo, and as he approaches, the Perfect One wraps his arms around Magnifico’s waist, as if for a Belly-to-Belly Suplex! Realizing this, ELM begins wailing away at Bo’s face, desperate to escape his grasp! Bo absorbs about ten blows before suddenly and violently driving his knee forward, slamming it directly into Magnifico’s gut! ELM immediately doubles over, grasping his stomach in pain as Bo stands over him, a frightening snarl painted across his face. With Magnifico doubled over, Bo is easily able to apply a Standing Head-Scissors, which he holds as he grabs ELM around the waist! As the crowd boos in anticipation, Bo lifts Magnifico into the air and onto his shoulders, setting ELM up for what is sure to be a deadly Powerbomb! Suddenly, Magnifico springs back to life and once again begins bashing away at Bo’s face, trying to stun the giant into letting him go! Amazingly enough, it works, as the repeated blows eventually weaken Bo’s grip, allowing Magnifico to slip out of it and land feet-first on the mat! The second ELM hits the mat, he turns around and makes a break for the ropes behind him, while Bo stands dazed in the center of the ring! Magnifico bounces off of said ropes and rushes back towards Bo, but as he approaches, the Perfect One suddenly springs back to life, grabbing ELM by the leg and waist and lifting him into the air! Bo then snaps his body downwards, falling to the mat and crushing Magnifico beneath him with a Spinebuster! The fans OHHH! in unison before breaking out into a chorus of boos, annoyed that Bo wasn’t quite as helpless as he looked. Stevens: No! Magnifico seemed to have countered both the Belly-to-Belly and the Powerbomb, only to walk right into a Spinebuster! And I’m sure that doesn’t feel good on ELM’s lower back, which Bo has damaged considerably over the course of the match. Riley: All those “counters” were merely an intricate part of Bo’s plan, Stevens! You can’t honestly believe that Magnifico had the skill or strength to actually resist Bo, do you? Stevens: Actually, I do. Riley: Ah, poor nieve Stevens. Bo quickly climbs back to his feet, leaving Magnifico alone and in great pain on the mat. He delivers a few stomps to the luchadore’s stomach before turning around and heading towards the nearby corner, drawing another wave of boos from the audience. Upon reaching the corner, Bo begins ascending the turnbuckles, quickly reaching the top rope. Slowly, and careful to keep his balance, Bo stands up on the top rope, glaring down on Magnifico’s motionless form as he does so. Suddenly, the Perfect One leaps off of the top rope, soaring through the air and crashing down on Magnifico like some gigantic ghetto hawk! Flashbulbs light up the inside of the arena as ELM suddenly rolls to the right, missing Bo by mere inches and causing him to land face-first on the mat! The entire ring shakes with Bo’s impact as a loud cheer rises from the crowd. Stevens: Whoa! We don’t see the Frog Splash from Bo very often, but it looked like he was trying to capitalize on the damage done to Magnifico’s stomach and lower back! Riley: And of course, Magnifico, being the coward he is, rolled right out of the way! I can’t believe he’s so weak as to avoid having a three hundred pound man fall on him! Both men lay motionless on the mat for a few moments, Bo stunned from his sudden and violent impact with the mat, Magnifico struggling to fight through the searing pain in his lower back. After a few moments, ELM begins pushing himself back to his feet, joined a second later by Bo. Eventually, Magnifico manages to push himself to his feet, reaching it while Bo is still on one knee. One hand on his gut, ELM turns around and makes a break for the ropes behind him, bouncing off of said ropes as Bo slowly stands up. Magnifico charges back towards Bo, but as he approaches, the Perfect One suddenly throws his foot into the air, looking to slam it into ELM’s face with a Big Boot! However, Magnifico manages to duck beneath Bo’s outstretched foot, before skidding to a halt right behind the big man! Bo spins around to face the luchadore, and as he does so, throws his right fist in front of him, aiming it directly at Magnifico’s head! Magnifico manages to duck beneath Bo’s arm, but as he does so, the big man grins to himself and drives his left fist forward, looking to connect with a Left Hand Counter! However, before Bo can make impact, ELM grabs him by the arm, twists it into a Chicken Wing, and then reaches up and wraps his arm around Bo’s head! The crowd already cheering, Magnifico falls to his knees, slamming Bo’s chin into his shoulder with Montezuma’s Revenge! Stevens: What a counter from Magnifico! Bo thought he had outsmarted ELM with the Left Hand Counter, but Magnifico countered THAT counter into Montezuma’s Revenge! His eyes rolling back in his head, Bo falls flat on his back, intensifying the cheers as Magnifico climbs back to his feet! As soon as he stands, ELM turns towards the nearby corner, heads over to it, and begins climbing its turnbuckles to the delight of the crowd! As he reaches the top rope, Magnifico slowly stands up on its turnbuckle, turning around to face Bo as he does so. ELM looks down on the motionless giant for a second...before turning towards his Mexican Flag and saluting it proudly, drawing a terrific pop from the crowd! A second later, Magnifico leaps off of the top turnbuckle, flipping backwards as he does so and crashing towards Bo with the Mexican Pride Press! Thousands of flashbulbs go off, lighting up the scene as Magnifico crashes directly onto Bo’s gut, making perfect contact with the Press! But right after making contact, ELM bounces off of Bo’s gut and falls to the mat, clutching his gut and crying out in pain! Stevens: Mexican Pride Press! Magnifico has hit Bo with his trademark aerial finisher, and he is just three seconds away from a victory! Riley: ‘Fraid not, Stevens! Magnifico, like the idiot he is, didn’t realize that the impact to his stomach would further his injury and prevent him from covering Bo! True to Riley’s word, Magnifico simply rolls around in pain for a few moments, unable to think of anything other than the agony consuming his body. However, slowly manages to concentrate his efforts, as he begins crawling towards Bo, cheered on by the excited crowd. ELM gets closer...and closer...and closer...before collapsing on top of Bo, making the cover to the delight of the crowd! As Magnifico lays motionlessly on Bo, the ref slides into position and begins to count... ONE... TWO... THR-Noo! Bo kicks out right before three, drawing a prolonged OHHHH! and a wave of boos from the surprised audience! Riley: What’d I tell ya? Magnifico wasn’t able to cover Bo right away, giving him the time to recover before the pin finally did come! Stevens: If I didn’t hate your stinking guts, I might compliment your insight. But, as it is... Magnifico slowly, painfully rolls off of Bo, a look of anguish painted across his face. After a few moments of simply lying on the mat, the luchadore begins to push himself to his feet, followed by Bo a second later. Magnifico reaches his feet while Bo is still pushing himself to his, giving the luchadore some time to back up a few steps and put some space between himself and the Perfect One. The second Bo is on his feet, ELM suddenly sidesteps towards him, throwing his foot into the air and driving it towards Bo’s face for a Superkick! Magnifico’s foot is mere inches away from impact...when Bo throws his hands up, catching ELM’s foot in front of his face! The crowd OHHH!s in shock and anticipation as Bo, gripping ELM’s leg tightly, glares down on Magnifico, who has just entered the first few stages of panic. Suddenly, Bo uses his grip to yank Magnifico towards him, before releasing his grip and grabbing ELM by the shoulder and leg! Bo then lifts Magnifico up, spins around, and falls forward, driving ELM directly into the mat with a Powerslam! ELM cries out in pain and arches his back off the mat, only to be pushed down flat and covered by Bo. The fans voice their displeasure as the ref slides into position and begins counting... ONE... TWO... TH-Noo! Magnifico gets a shoulder up at two and seven eighths, drawing a relieved pop from the crowd! Stevens: And Bo, once again, targeting Magnifico’s abdomen area, realizing that he renders ELM’s aerial maneuvers completely useless by doing so! Riley: Bah, they were useless in the first place. Bo’s just doing this so we can all enjoy watching Magnifico roll around on the mat and cry like a little girl. Although ELM isn’t quite crying yet, it’s obvious that he’s in a good deal of pain, as he writhes helplessly on the mat as Bo quickly climbs back to his feet. As soon as he stands, the Perfect One reaches down, grabs ELM by the arm, and jerks the luchadore to his feet, before using his grip to whip him towards the far ropes. Somewhat dazed, Magnifico bounces off of the ropes and rushes back towards Bo, and as he approaches, the big man grabs ELM by the waist and hurls him upwards, throwing him into the air as if for a Flapjack! Unfortunately for Bo, Magnifico takes control of his body in mid-air, as he pushes himself over Bo’s head and lands on his feet directly behind the Perfect One! Agitated, Bo turns around...to see Magnifico sidestep towards him and throw his foot into the air! ELM’s foot is driven directly into Bo’s face, which knocked the Perfect One backwards as he reels from the force of the Superkick! Bo doesn’t fall, but is visibly dazed, allowing Magnifico to turn towards the corner directly behind him and quickly ascend it! ELM reaches the top rope in a matter of seconds, and as he does so, stands up on the top turnbuckle and turns towards Bo, who is just beginning to get his bearings straight. Bo, confused as to where Magnifico went, looks up just in time to see ELM leap off of the top rope and fly towards him! As Magnifico soars towards Bo, he wraps his legs, which are extended in front of him, around the big man’s head, looking to take him down with the fall of the Aztecs! Magnifico begins to pull back on his legs...when Bo grabs him by the waist and pulls the luchadore onto his shoulders, trapping him in a precarious Powerbomb position! Stevens: Uh oh! It looked like Magnifico had Bo on the ropes with a stunning Superkick, but the Perfect One managed to reverse ELM’s attempt at the Fall of the Aztecs regardless! Riley: The reversal is only the first step, Stevens! In a matter of seconds, Bo will slam Magnifico into the mat with such force that all twenty guys who live at that dirty Mexican’s house will be able to hear it! ELM immediately begins to fight back, pelting Bo’s face and head with a flurry of fists! Unfortunately for him, it’s not working this time, as Bo suddenly throws ELM downwards, slamming the luchadore into the canvas with incredible force! A mixture of OOOH!s and boos pour in from the crowd as Magnifico cries out in pain and arches his back off the mat, before going limp and falling lifelessly onto the mat. Smirking to himself, Bo leisurely falls onto his knees and covers the luchadore, hooking his leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting... ONE... TWO... THRE-Nooo!! Magnifico gets his shoulder up mere milliseconds before the three count, drawing a hopeful pop from the relieved crowd! Stevens: Oh my God! Bo absolutely nailed Magnifico with that Powerbomb, but ELM just barely managed to escape a pinfall! Riley: Bah! NOW who’s doing the no-selling, Mr. Break Character? Stevens: Riley, I’m not even going to dignify your contradictory idiocy with a response. Bo slowly pushes himself off of Magnifico and shouts angrily at the referee, refusing to believe that ELM managed to kick out. The referee timidly defends his position, but Bo blows him off and grabs Magnifico by the hair, using his grip to pull ELM to his feet as he stands. With ELM underneath his grasp, Bo looks out over the audience, slowly raises his hand...and draws it across his neck, performing the universal “cutthroat” gesture to the distaste of the crowd! As the fans boo in anticipation, Bo suddenly pulls Magnifico into a ¾ Facelock, putting ELM in position for the Perfect Pain! However, before Bo can pull off the maneuver, ELM suddenly throws his foot forward, driving it in between Bo’s legs as he lands a deadly kick to the groin! The fans, not caring that Magnifico just blatantly cheated, cheer wildly as Bo releases the luchadore and doubles over in pain! ELM pauses for just a moment, shaking off the impact of the Powerbomb, before turning his back to Bo, reaching back with his arms, and hooking Bo’s arms as if for a Backslide! The cheering growing louder by the second, ELM charges towards the corner in front of him, running up its turnbuckles for the Baja California Crusher! Magnifico pushes off of the top turnbuckle and flips over Bo’s head, pulling him downwards and slamming him face-first into the mat as ELM lands on his knees! Stevens: He hit it! He hit it! Magnifico, er, counters out of the Perfect Pain and lands the Baja California Crusher! Riley: Shenanigans! Magnifico was quite obviously cheating! As the cheering hits its absolute peak, ELM remains on his knees, his chest heaving and his eyelids drooping as he summons up the strength to turn Bo onto his back. Slowly, Magnifico grabs Bo by the shoulder and gradually, painfully pulls Bo onto his back, before collapsing onto the big man for the cover! The ref slides into position and begins counting as the luchadore lays motionless on Bo... ONE... TWO... THREE!! The ref springs to his feet and signals for the bell, which is barely heard over the immense cheers pouring in from the audience! DING DING DING Funyon: Your winner, by pinfall...El Luchadooooooorre Magnificoooooooo!! Stevens: What a match! Bo beat Magnifico pillar to post, but became too cocky at the end, allowing ELM to hit the Baja California Crusher and take the victory! Riley: He didn’t ALLOW anything, Stevens! ELM, in a remarkable display of bad sportsmanship, delivered a blatant and downright mean Low Blow! Stevens: Yeah, well, get over it. I’m afraid we’re out of time, folks, but make sure to tune into Smarkdown! G’night! The final image broadcasted is El Luchadore Magnifico, rolling off of Bo was a triumphant smile painted across his face... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Grand Slam Report post Posted February 8, 2003 Ok first, right off the bat I want to say... Damn fine job to all!!! We had five matches. Only TWO were default wins. The three matches that were contested were all very close according to the markers. Way to go guys!!! On to the recap... TNT Speaks - After a look back at the highlights of Clusterf*ck, TNt announces his stipulation for the upcoming Pay-Per-View Main Event, and it is a doozy!! Read it! Tom Flesher & Frost over Xero (default) - Well, pretty much what was expected here. They have their way with poor, hapless (no-showing) Xero. Longdogger Pete, Wildchild, and Johnny Dangerous over Magnificent Seven (Judge Mental, Ejiro Fasaki, Fugue) - Raynor said this was a tough match to mark, and that "these bumpees are GOOD!" A ringing endorsement of a match if I ever read one. CIA over Stryke (default) - CIA picks up a little steam with a win over giant-killer Stryke. Promo (JD brutalizes Alex Zenon) - See what happens when you don;t book psychos? They go around MDKing Carnies!! Mak Francis over Danny Williams to win the SWF U.S. Championship - As the marker, I have to say that it is a shame either match had to lose. Francis pulled it out in a second tiebreaker. Congrats to Mak on the title. El Luchadore Magnifico over Perfect Bo in a non-title match - ELm shows everyone why he is the World Champion and has his name all over the record books with a solid win over a tenacious Bo. Once more, good show to everyone, and I apologize for the lateness of the post. I'll try to do better next time. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
