Crimson Losing Match

[Atlas 0]

That is, Crimson Losing Matches.

 

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The opening guitar riff of "King of Your Own World" by Smugface plays over the arena speakers, as golden sparks are fired from under the stage. Several seconds in, Spike Jenkins emerged from behind the curtain, looking confident as usual, but oddly determined tonight. He stands on the stage, allowing the sparks to twilight around him, relishing in the delight of the golden shower. He doesn't spend as much time there as he usually does though, and walks down the ramp, intent on getting the match started as soon as possible...

 

"The following non-title match is set for one fall. Introducing first, from Hollywood, California, weighing in at 220 pounds, 'HOLLYWOOD' SPIKE JENKINS!" announces Funyon.

 

Once at ringside, Spike walks up the steps towards the middle of the apron on the far side. He steps down and hooks his arms around the top rope, leaning back on it. The crowd here in Cleveland clearly doesn't support him, but Spike's cocky and driven attitude blocks out their booing and hissing. He steps through the ropes and inside the ring, walking towards one of the corners. As he climbs the bottom two ropes and sits down on the third one, Spike keeps a fixed stare on the entrance. His music fades away, and the crowd's booing is heard more clearly...

 

That is, until Breaking Benjamin's "Polyamorous" hits the Gund Arena, and the lights flash to it. Once the drums kick in, a large white explosion goes off onstage, sending some of the remaining sparks back into the air. Behind the location of the exploding pyro, Sean Atlas appears standing in front of the curtain. He wears his European Championship around his waist, and the white mask on his face. He starts walking towards the ring, his stride matching the beat of the music... Funyon introduces him to the audience.

 

"And his opponent, from Chicago, Illinois, weighing in at 230 pounds, he is the current SJL European Champion... SEAN ATLAS!"

 

To a very mixed reaction, Atlas arrives at ringside, staring back at Jenkins. Unfortunately for Spike, the mask hides Atlas' expression, revealing nothing but his eyes and mouth. Slowly, Atlas walks around the ring to the timekeeper's table, handing his belt to him personally. Spike comes down from his corner, waving Atlas in to start the match. As his music fades out, Sean walks up the steps and walks along the apron, almost teasing Spike...

 

King: Why doesn't he just get in there already?

 

Axis: He's playing mind games with him, mate. Spike is focused, maybe too focused, and the European Champion is trying to use it against him.

 

The referee, Ced Ordoñez, urges Atlas to step through the ropes, but he is completely ignores as Atlas doesn't take his eyes off Spike. Jenkins keeps his gaze on Sean as well, growing more impatient by the second. Finally, he cracks... and darts at Atlas on the apron! He tries a shoulder tackle to knock Sean off, but that's exactly what Atlas was waiting for and he uses the top rope to swing himself over the charging Jenkins and into the ring.

 

*ding ding*

 

Landing behind Spike, who got nothing but air once he reached the ropes, Atlas steps up behind him and slightly to his left. He lifts Spike's leg and supports his back as he lifts, then drops him to the mat for a Side Suplex. Angry, Jenkins stands right back up and goes after Sean, but his hand is being held by Atlas as he prepares to Irish Whip him... Jenkins reverses it however, and sends Atlas running off into the ropes. Sean bounces and on his return, Jenkins stands ready to use a Superkick. Aware of it, Sean ducks and baseball slides down next to him, allowing Jenkins' kick to miss and fly over his head. Atlas stops his slide by Spike's planted foot, and being in such a good position, he swipes it out from under him.

 

Jenkins falls, face first to the mat. He doesn't let it faze him though and gets to his feet right away, looking for Sean behind him. Atlas finds him first though, primarily with the back of his hand. *smack* The sound of flesh on flesh echoes throughout the Gund Arena, as the fans "Whoo" along with it. *smack* The chops push Jenkins back, closer to the corner behind him. *smack* Finally, he is forced against the turnbuckle pads, and Atlas stops with the chops... *smack* That is, after that last one. Sean lowers his shoulder and grabs the middle rope on either side of Jenkins, and with one strong tug he thrusts it into Spike's gut. Atlas pulls back, and again, drives his shoulder into Jenkins' midsection. Many of the fans are actually cheering him on here, as he continues to force the air out of his opponent.

 

Axis: King, it seems like the SJL fans here in Cleveland are so against Spike that they're actually cheering Atlas.

 

After nearly half a dozen shoulder thrusts, Jenkins finally gets angered enough to force Atlas away, and lifts his knee up to his Sean under his chin. Atlas is forced back rubbing his neck, when Spike pushes himself away from the corner and with the same leg he kneed Atlas with, tries to kick him from the side. Sean catches the leg though, and holds it under his arm as Jenkins hops on one foot like a crippled kangaroo. He gets ready to try an Enziguri, but Atlas quickly stops him before he starts. Sean throws his arm around Spike's neck, in an attempt to set up a Leg Capture Suplex... But Spike remembers the move from their match on Wrath and forces Atlas away with his hands. However, his foot is still in Sean's arms. Quickly, Atlas switches the arm that holds Spike's leg and again, swings his arm around Jenkins' neck. Lifting him up before Spike can pull away, Atlas hoists his opponent and drops him on his back with a Fisherman's Suplex! He keeps the hold on and bridges for the pin...

 

 

...One...

 

 

...Two

 

 

NO!

 

 

Spike kicks out just as Ced gets to two. Knowing that he wouldn't have gotten a three count this early, Atlas casually stands up and takes Spike's hand, pulling him to his feet. Continuing the motion, Atlas tries whipping Spike into the ropes again, which works this time. Spike bounces off and on his return to Atlas, tries to clothesline him. The European champion ducks it though and as Jenkins runs past him, Sean turns around and follows him, to be close when he comes off the ropes again. Expecting such a situation, Spike jumps towards the ropes instead, and lands on the middle one. He bounces off it and thrusts his leg out, hoping to catch Atlas with the springboard back kick. But he miscalculates and Sean isn't close enough, forcing him to land awkwardly on his feet.

 

Taking advantage of the bad landing, Atlas steps up behind Spike and slides his arms under those of Jenkins. His hands connect behind Spike's neck and Atlas lifts him up in a Full Nelson, then drops him down on the canvas, ass first against the ring mat. Spike lets out a small yell out of pain, but stops himself from showing that kind of emotion. Still behind him, Atlas stands up and stepping back a bit, delivers a knee to the back of Spike's head. Jenkins quickly grabs it, rocking back and fourth form the pain. Unmercifully, Sean picks him up from behind and wraps his arms around Spike's waist, locking them in the front. The crowd grows a bit louder as Sean pops his hips and lifts Spike up in the air, then slams him straight down with a...

 

Axis: German Suplex!

 

King: He's keeping it on and bridging again!

 

Ced drops down and counts...

 

...One...

 

 

...Two...

 

 

NO!

 

 

Axis: Again, Hollywood kicks out, taking a little bit longer this time.

 

King: He's gotta stop trying to get the quick win. Work on him, champ. Wear him down slowly. That kid's vitality is just as good as yours.

 

Atlas drops the bridge and rolls to his front to get out from under Spike. One knee, then one leg at a time, Atlas comes back up to a standing position. With Spike still rolling around on the mat, Atlas picks up his arm and hoists him up. Once Spike is standing, he rapidly speeds up his motions and kicks Atlas in the gut, then sneaks his arm over Sean's head and drops him down with a DDT!

 

King: Finally, Jenkins comes out with his first offensive move of the match.

 

Axis: Won't see too many of those, mate. It seems as though Atlas is diligently working on Spike's neck, as well as his midsection.

 

Taking little harm from the desperation move, Atlas quickly gets up, just as fast as Jenkins does. Spike follows up on the reverse DDT by locking on a front face lock, but as he tries to lift him, Atlas reverses it and traps Jenkins in a front face lock of his own. Lifting Spike off his feet, Atlas chooses to drop him on the top rope, abs first. Atlas runs towards the opposite ropes, trying to build momentum for his next move. Mindful of Sean's strategy, Jenkins places his feet on the apron and slides down off the rope. He sees Sean coming off the opposite ropes, charging at him. Quickly, Jenkins grabs the top and middle ropes tightly, and just as Atlas comes near, Spike sidesteps, swings his legs through the ropes, making sure his feet don't stop until the hit Atlas in his back.

 

Sean ends up running into the ropes and due to Spike's swing kick, doesn't bounce off. Meanwhile, Jenkins spins Atlas around scoops him up. Spike then reaches around the waist of the European champ and lifts him up, turning him in mid-motion. Finally, once Atlas' is facing up, Jenkins drops Sean's back onto his knee with a vicious Backbreaker! Atlas ricochets off Spike's leg and slides down onto the mat, slightly arching his back. Jenkins grabs hold of his hand though and brings him up without giving him any time to recover.

 

King: See, looks like Spike's getting on a roll here.

 

Axis: He may build up some momentum, but I doubt it getting him anywhere in this matchup.

 

Getting Atlas to stand, Jenkins pulls back on his arm and Irish whips him towards the ropes. Sean runs at them, then bounces off and sees Jenkins standing, leaning over and waiting for his return. As Atlas comes back, he stops short of Spike and kicks him in the abdominal area. Spike bends down even further as Sean takes off towards the adjacent ropes, perpendicular to those he came off of seconds before. He bounces again and sees that Spike's position is a perfect one to hit a running Neckbreaker on. Upon his return to where Jenkins stands, Atlas bands back and sneaks his arm under Spike's neck...

 

But Jenkins expected it and uses Atlas' twisting motion against him. He rolls through the neckbreaker attempt, and both men end up making a full rotation, with Jenkins facing forward and Atlas facing up, bent back in a cumbersome way. Conveniently, Spike sneaks his arm around Sean's neck, putting him in an inverted facelock. Then with one swift motion he rotates them both and slams Atlas down to the canvas an Inverted Facelock Swinging Neckbreaker, or as he likes to call it...

 

King: Roll the Joint! Haha, Hollywood rolls the joint on Sean Atlas!

 

Axis: Well you said he's getting on a roll here...

 

King: ... Alright, you don't get to make jokes anymore, you hear?

 

Axis: (Ignoring King completely) And now he prepares to roll even more and Spike sets up for the Rolling Thunder!

 

Spike rolls atlas over onto his back and closer to the ropes, then jets towards the ropes opposite his opponent. Jenkins bounces off and comes down, somersaulting down the middle of the ring. As the majority of the fans boo, some who are marks for that particular spot cheer him on as he comes off the ring surface and springs up, then lands atop Sean Atlas with his back, completing the Rolling Thunder. He rolls back and prepares to pin, but notices how close and accessible the ropes are to Sean. So by his hand and leg, Spike drags Atlas towards the middle of the ring, then hooks his leg for the cover...!

 

 

...One...

 

 

...Two...

 

NO!

 

King: Dammit, Spike. Why do the Rolling Thunder. It's a weak move, you hear me? WEAK!

 

Axis: Give him some credit. At least he was smart enough to get Atlas way from the ropes.

 

King: That's experience, not intelligence. If Spike was smart he'd... he'd...

 

Axis: He'd what?

 

King: Actually, just the idea is so ludicrous; I can't even finish that sentence...

 

 

Back in the ring, Jenkins sits up on his knees, rethinking his gameplan. Atlas, meanwhile, tries to catch his breath. He isn't given enough time however, as Spike brings him up to his feet again. He takes Atlas by his arm and again, whips him across the ring, but into a corner this time. As Atlas comes into it with his back, Spike is already running and on the way there, does a handspring off the ring mat. Turning back upright, Spike comes into the corner and jumps, aiming for Sean's face with his feet... and hits it with both, perfectly executing The Spotlight! Atlas turns and leans over, instinctively grabbing his face, despite the mask acting as sort of an insufficient shield for him.

 

Spike wastes no time as he turns Sean back around, then puts him in a front face lock. He lifts the European champion into the air and places him on the top turnbuckle, making sure to slam him down hard. He throws a couple of punches at him, all closed-fist, which gets Spike a warning from Ced Ordoñez. He pays no attention but does stop throwing punches. Instead, he climbs up, first to the second rope then to the top one and makes sure to blatantly force his crotch against Sean's face. He briefly yells at some select members of the crowd, inciting more boos from them before jumping onto Atlas shoulders, legs around his head... Then pulls back and twists his body, throwing Atlas off the top and into the ring with a Top Rope Hurricanrana!

 

Axis: Had Spike done more of that in Sunday's cruiserweight match, he might have had a bit of an advantage.

 

King: Suddenly you're a critic too?

 

Axis: Damn right.

 

He walks over to Sean and by his head, brings the fallen man up to his feet. Directly in front of the referee, Spike rakes his fingers on Sean's eyes, prompting another warning. Just as before, he disregards Ced and continues attacking Atlas. Spike then grabs Sean's arm and whips him towards the ropes... but doesn't let go. Taking a page out of Atlas' book, Jenkins uses an Unreleased Irish Whip and snaps Sean back to him. Before Atlas comes close enough though, Spike jumps into the air and turns his body, thrusting his leg out into Atlas' moving head, kicking him directly in the face!!!

 

Axis & King: He-Just-Broke-His-Nose!

 

And fans jeer Spike as Atlas falls to the ground, finding he has to tend to his face again. Meanwhile, Jenkins runs at the ropes parallel to Atlas. At two steps away, he jumps to them, landing on the middle one again. Using the top rope for balance, he leaps off backwards, flips in mid-air and successfully lands across Atlas' fallen body with an Asai Moonsault! The members of the crowd come to their feet as Jenkins hooks Sean's leg, draping his arm across Atlas' chest...

 

 

...ONE...

 

 

...TWO...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...NO!!

 

 

Axis: Atlas kicks out!

 

Upset with the count, Jenkins bangs his fist on the ring surface. He stands up and motivated, he walks to the corner of the ring. The crowd begins to sense what he's about to try and the noise in the Gund Arena grows louder. Spike grips the top rope on either side of the turnbuckle pad, then swings himself up to the top, one foot landing on the metal support between the ringpost and pad. Some flashbulbs go off as the boos grow louder, and the spot-fanatics cheer his efforts on. Finally, Jenkins stands himself up on the top rope and leaps off.... contracting and explaining his body in the air... and lands THE RATINGS GRABBER...

 

 

 

... On the empty surface of the ring! Atlas rolled away just in time to escape the frog splash!

 

 

King: He missed it again!

 

Axis: If Spike had landed that, the match would be over by now. Dammit!

 

Spike rolls around on the mat, clutching his belly. After all the damage done to it by Atlas, Jenkins goes out of his way to hurt it himself. Atlas, meanwhile, is sitting up nearby. He gets one knee down, then plants his foot, and finally his other foot. He stands up completely, hoping he could swing the momentum of the match his way. He walks over to Jenkins and by his hair alone, forces him to his feet. Moving to the side of him, Atlas sneaks his leg behind Spike's then his arm around him to hit a Russian Leg Sweep... but Jenkins isn't hurt enough to allow it, and instead, reverses it and drives Atlas down face first into the mat! Spike slides over near Atlas' head and outs his arm around the front of his neck. He pulls back and gets on top of Sean, trying to set up THE SILVER LINING!

 

King: He could end it here, Axis! Just has to get that hold on tight...

 

Atlas struggles, trying to keep a bad situation from getting worse... He manages to get both arms free and uses them to pry off Spike's hand... Atlas forces Jenkins off him and rolls to the side, quickly standing up. Jenkins rolls off in the opposite direction and also stands. But before he can turn around, Atlas latches on around Spike's neck, and quickly snaps his arm around Spike's shoulder, locking on the KATAHAJIME CHOKE!

 

Axis: Sean Atlas, trying to lock in a submission of his own!

 

Jenkins struggles to get out of it, flailing his arms in the air like a madman. Behind him, Atlas clutches on tightly, refusing to release his grip on Spike's neck. Finally, Atlas slides his foot in between Spike's and trips him up, forcing Jenkins to fall forward with the hold still intact. Atlas lands on top of him, using his weight to make it even harder for Spike to breathe.

 

Axis: All this time, Atlas was working on his neck and midsection that being his ribcage, for this very hold!

 

King: This, and the Saint's Demise, Axis.

 

Axis: His one mistake however, was forcing Jenkins down so far forward. The ropes are not very far away...

 

Spike stops fighting the hold. His arms no longer flail wildly in the air, nor does he attempt to pry Atlas's hands off. Instead, Jenkins pushes against the surface of the ring with his legs, trying to move the combined weight of their bodies closer to the ropes, which are not completely out of reach... He inches nearer to them, desperately hoping to make it there before he blacks out... Atlas can do nothing about it however, as releasing the hold will make it altogether ineffective... Spike is close now, less than a foot... he's just a stretch away...

 

King: Come on, Jenkins...

 

A little bit more...

 

King: Come on...

 

He gets it!

 

King: Yes!

 

Axis: Spike goes the distance, making it to the ring ropes and actually getting out of the Katahajime!

 

Ced forces Atlas to release the hold, and after a moment, he does. Slowly, he stands up, trying to regain some of the energy that applying the submission hold took away. He arrogantly kicks Spike's hand off the bottom rope, then picks up head to lift him up by his hair....

 

*smack*

 

Sean uses the knife edge chops again, forcing Spike further back. *smack* Another shot to the bare area of skin above Spike's wife beater. *smack* He hits another one, which gets Spike leaning against the ropes. Atlas motions for another chop, but stops himself and instead, rips the wife beater down the middle, exposing more bare skin... *SMACK* He drives the back of his hand against the fresh white flesh of Hollywood Spike Jenkins, putting more force into it than before. *SMACK* again, and Spike coughs as the color of his chest turns to a crimson red. Finally, Atlas lifts his arm up and, after pushing him against the ropes, sends him running off in the other direction and follows... Spike bounces off the ropes, but before he can even take two steps......

 

Axis & King: Spear!

 

Axis: A Spear by Sean Atlas, delivering the final blow to Spike's ribcage!

 

Atlas leans over and covers him...

 

 

...ONE...

 

 

 

 

 

 

...TWO...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...TTHHHRRRNNNNNNOOOOO!!! Spike kicks out as Ced's arm was moments away from slapping the mat for a third time!

 

 

Axis: What? Spike kicked out? He didn't lose?

 

King: Can someone please check on hell? It's getting a little chilly down there....

 

Despite the mask hiding his face, Atlas' shocked eyes can clearly be seen through the holes. He stares at Ced, then at Spike, then at the fans who have made him the de-facto favorite in this match. Slowly he gets up, hovering over Spike. Jenkins, meanwhile, rolls over onto his knees and slowly begins to stand. Atlas stands in front of him, waiting for Spike to get in position for the Saint's Demise... But Spike never does, and instead, springs up and comes to his feet completely!

 

Quickly, with the back of his wrist, *smack* he gets revenge on Sean for the earlier chops. *smack* Another one, then he tries a third... but Sean blocks it! He throws a forearm, but before he can complete the motion, he notices Spike's leg coming in towards his side... and catches it! Again, he's got Spike hopping on one leg, but this time, falls back and twists it, taking Spike down with a Dragon Screw Legwhip. Still holding the leg, Atlas stands up and takes Spike's other leg, steps through between them and crosses his feet. He then turns himself around, rotating Spike onto his chest and locks in the Sharpshooter!

 

Axis: King! For the first time in his tenure here, Atlas is using the Sharpshooter!

 

King: We knew he used this move, albeit rarely, but he's got it locked in on Jenkins now!

 

Axis: He sure... wait, no!

 

In the ring, Jenkins knows that giving in here would mean the end of the match for him, and another win for Atlas. So Spike grabs on to Sean's legs and pulls himself back. It arches his body more, but he manages to get more leverage on Atlas and finally, uses his legs to force Sean forward and down. Still holding his feet, Jenkins stands up, wraps his arms around the front of Sean's legs and takes several steps back, trying to successfully apply THE SMOKE OUT!

 

Axis: Hollywood Jenkins reverses it!

 

King: There you go! Just as Atlas did before, Spike gets out of his opponent's submission hold and put on one of his own!

 

Axis: He sure... Dammit, no!

 

Jenkins arches back, pulling away at Atlas but his strength has faded during this match and he isn't able to put all the force on the move that he wants to. Atlas times his motions with Spike's stepping back and manages to get to the ropes before the move can even be completely applied. Furiously, Spike throws Atlas' feet down, angry and upset with himself. He turns around, waiting for Atlas to get up and face him. Sean gets off the bottom rope, using the middle and top one to help him stand. He makes it up to his feet as the fans get louder, knowing what's about to meet Atlas when he turns around. Sean has little to no clue however, and when he faces Spike, he finds himself being set up for THE HIGHLIGHTER!

 

With his chest red and sweat dripping down into his eyes, Jenkins throws his arm across Sean's chest, and prepares to hit the move as soon as possible. But as he lifts, Atlas struggles away, relieving those fans that thought this was the end. Sean spreads his own arm across Jenkins, then throws Spike's arm over his shoulder, in a blatant attempt to rip off Spike's finishing maneuver. Jenkins will have none of that though and elbows Atlas to the back of the head! He forces Sean to get off and step to the side. Again, Spike sneaks under him, flinging Atlas' arm over his shoulder and reaches across his chest again. He looks at the many flashbulbs going off early, preparing to hand Sean Atlas his first loss in the Smartmarks Junior League... He lifts Sean up....

 

King: It's The Highlighter!!!

 

And Atlas goes down... Down under Spike's arm, that is, as he sneaks around to escape the move! He kept a grip on Spike's arm though, and forces him to turn around. Pulling on that arm, Atlas lowers his shoulder and tries to get Jenkins on... but Spike doesn't budge and goes around the European champion, refusing to be put in a Fireman's carry! His hand still held by Atlas, Spike faces him now, man to man, eye to eye, face to mask. Suddenly, he pulls on Sean's arm, bringing him closer... Jenkins throws his leg up, aiming for the side of Atlas' head, hoping to use a kick to the temple to get him to let up on the grip...

 

But it backfires! Atlas ducks the kick and because of the position under Jenkins, he forces Spike's leg to go over him. Continuing the motion, he drives his shoulder into Spike's gut yet again, and uses his momentum against him, causing Spike's kick to carry him up and onto his shoulder! Still moving forward, Atlas adjusts and firmly lays Spike Jenkins across his back in a Fireman's Carry! Atlas runs out of ring to run in though, and as he reaches the corner with Spike lying across his back, he decides to take the risk of using the ropes... With all 220 pound of Spike on him, Atlas steps on the bottom rope... then on the second... he goes for the third, but can't make it and leaps off the middle one, turning to his side...........

 

 

... Driving Spike's head into the ring with the SAINT'S DEMISE!!!!

 

Axis: He did it! Atlas hit the Saint's Demise off the ropes!

 

King: It figures...

 

Spike lands on his neck and back, spreading his arms out on the ring mat. Atlas falls across his chest, covering him...

 

 

...ONE...

 

 

 

 

 

 

...TWO...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...TTTHHHHRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

 

*DING DING*

 

"The winner of this bout... SEAN ATLAS!"

 

As "Polyamorous" hits the Gund Arena, and the fans that supported Atlas during this match cheer him for the victory, Sean Atlas rolls over and lays on his back, considering himself lucky to have won.

 

Axis: Unbelievable performance from both men here, King.

 

King: I'll admit that at times, I did thaink Spike was going to win. And if he locked in The Smoke Out completely, we'd probably be hearing his music by now. Unfortunately, he gets to stare at the lights yet again, at the hands of Sean Atlas.

 

The referee brings Atlas belt to him as he rolls onto the apron and clumsily stands on the floor. He raises his hands in the air, clearly weakened after the match. As he walks towards the ramp, he gives an occasional look at Jenkins, who is still lying in the ring. He walks up the ramp, then turns around to walk backwards, raising his arms, and the European Title in the air. The fans still give him a mixed reaction, but at least they respect his abilities and cheer him for winning yet another match.

[Guest vitriol]

....I...ugh.

 

----------------------------

 

The lights flash and several people in the crowd explode as we fade in from the Es Jay El CRIMSON logo! People groan all over the arena as they get plastered with the life-like blood, while others yell out in shock, having thought those people were real. After a few hundred people run off screaming and crying....the same thing happens again! The crowd cheers and the cameras circle the crowd for signs, managing to find only a few that aren’t covered in blood. One of them is being held up by a quite attractive girl, reading “Tryst can hide in my forest any day!” the censors quickly force the camera view to shift, and we focus in on the commentators as the show begins.

 

“Welcome to Es Jay El CRIMSON! Live from the GUND ARENA!!! WOOHOO!”

 

“It’s been far too long since we’ve been here, I’ll give you that much. But Axis, since when do you like America?”

 

“...Um...well...huh. That’s a good point.”

 

“So then, we both hate America. See, I told you we had something in common.”

 

“Yeah, well I hate you, but I don’t go holding hands with everyone in this country because of it.”

 

“Uh, what?”

 

“...”

 

“Will you ever come up with something worth saying?”

 

“Probably not.”

 

“Right, then....I...hmm.”

 

“Anyway. We’ve got an action packed show for you tonight, all capped with Mick Van Siclen jobbing the World Title to Janus!”

 

“Uh...you’re not supposed to give away the end of the show, you moron.”

 

“Oh hell. How do they know I’m not just making it up?”

 

“...well, you ARE from Australia, so I guess you have a point.”

 

“Tryst vs. Fosta, 2.0!”

 

As the lights blacken out, the crowd drops to a dead silence and their eyes are drawn to the entry way, where a deep green spotlight shines down from above. As the Smarktron comes to life, they crowd explodes as they watch Tryst’s custom entrance footage. The video moving through a lush green forest at great speeds, finally stopping about 20 feet in front of a man, wielding a bow and arrow. He pulls the arrow back, releases, and as it reaches the screen, pyrotechnics on the opposite wall explode as “Forest” by System of a Down blasts across the loud speakers, and the crowd blows the roof off of Gund as Tristan Whitt, also known as Tryst, comes rushing out of the back to stand within the spotlight, Bow in one hand, arrow in the other.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen...the following competitor stands at six feet, one inch tall, weighing in at two hundred and eighteen pounds...he hails from Bairnsdale, Britain...Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Tryyyyyyyyssssst!!!”

 

Making his way down the ramp, Tryst takes off his quiver of arrows and hands it to the timekeeper, along with his bow as he rolls into the ring and soaks in the cheers from the rhapsodic crowd. The lights fade back up to normal, and he awaits his opponent.

 

Before the announcers can jump in to comment on the past history between these two, “Loco” by Coal Chamber begins to rattle through the arena’s system, and Fosta appears between the entryway before too long. He ignores the crowd, as is his custom, and speeds down towards the ring to try and get a crack at his adversary. Tryst, however, is ready for him...unlike last time. As Fosta dives in the ring and tries to catch him off guard, Tryst spins around and connects a roundhouse kick the Fosta’s temple, sending him swirling around and barely catching himself on the ropes.

 

“Oh my, King! Did you see that kick?! Totally caught Fosta off-guard.”

 

“Yeah, he was trying to pull the same thing that he did last time...when he lost.”

 

“He lost then, but this is a new day, and anything can happen.”

 

“And will happen, if you touch me again.”

 

“Aww, King, you know I love you.”

 

“Yes, and that’s the problem.”

 

Tryst wastes no time going after Fosta, who is trying to shake the cobwebs off. He grabs his temple, rubbing it in a dazed fashion as the Sherwood Fable stalks him from behind. He gets an idea, running toward the ropes and springboarding from the second rope, going over them and landing just on the other side of the apron. He grabs Fosta by the head on his descent, and it drops his neck directly on the ropes, choking him momentarily before Tristan mercifully releases him, sending him flailing backwards and falling to the mat. Landing on his feet outside the ropes, Whitt plays to the crowd for a moment before jumping back in to the ring to go after his opponent. Fosta landed on his tailbone, causing a yelp of distress, and he’s rolled onto his stomach by now. Reaching for the ropes, he tries to pull himself up, but he’s having a bit of trouble. As Tryst rolls back in, he finds Fosta still on the ground, and pulls him away from the ropes, breaking his hold on them, and lets him go in the center of the ring. Dropping to a knee, he grabs Fosta behind the head and begins to connect with Fosta’s forehead. Right hand after right hand...he seems to be caught in a trance. After about ten punches, the ref pulls him off of Fosta and tells him to calm down.

 

“He’s starting to lose control! Will the Sherwood Fable actually lose his cool?”

 

“Hard to say, Axis. Like I’ve said many times before, he seems to be just on the other side of the sanity tracks, so I don’t know if there is really a difference between happy and mad for him. They all seem to blend together like a bizarre milkshake of emotions.”

 

“Milkshake of emotions? God, you’ve got some serious problems. But Fosta is having it taken to him right now, and this may end almost as quickly as it began if he can’t find a way to get some offense in.”

 

Fosta is trapped in a daze, while Tryst seems to be in a daze as well...he shakes his head a few times, and blinks his eyes...seeming to awake from the trance. Sitting up, Fosta glares at Tryst before starting to get to his feet. Tryst, unsure of what he has done, backs up against the ropes and looks unsure of himself. Fosta charges, and Tristan dodges. Swinging back around, Fosta hopes to catch him with a wild backhand, but that is ducked by Whitt, who drops to a knee and punches Fosta directly in the side of the knee, causing it to buckle out from under Fosta. As he descends to the mat, Tryst springs to his feet while swinging upward with an uppercut, catching Fosta right under the jaw and sending him sprawling backwards onto the mat. He lies there, motionless...

 

“Oh my GOD! Tryst hit him so hard, I’ll be surprised if he wakes up within the next week!”

 

“Ouch. But look at Tryst! Why isn’t he taking advantage?”

 

“I don’t know...it seems like he’s just looking out at something in the crowd...”

 

“...or maybe he’s not looking at anything at all?”

 

“...Hmm.”

 

Tryst stands there for a moment, doing nothing more than staring down at his downed opponent...a few seconds pass by, and still, there is no movement. But the crowd won’t give up on him. They begin to cheer for young Tristan as one of their own, screaming out “Tristan!” at the top of their lungs. It isn’t long before the trance is broken, and Tryst begins to pull Fosta towards the center of the ring once more. As he releases him, he goes around towards his feet, rolls him onto his stomach, and begins to put him into an STF. Fosta begins to awaken at this time, but the squirming that he can manage isn’t quite enough to escape his impending fate. As Whitt locks on the hold, Fosta idly reaches out for the ropes that he hopes would be in front of him...but they aren’t. And so, he begins to try and pull himself towards the ropes. It’s cliche, but it’s the only thing that he can do. As he reaches out and pulls himself, Tryst locks on the hold tighter in hopes of an early victory, but the likelihood of that is pretty slim. And as he holds on in vain, Fosta manages to finally get his hand upon the ropes, and the hold must be broken. Tryst releases before the referee has to come over and tell him to, and he backs up to see if Fosta can get to his feet on his own. He begins to, but he can’t quite make it all the way. And so Tryst pulls him to his feet, backs him up against the ropes, and Irish whips him towards the turnbuckle. As he connects with a slam and a yelp, Tryst follows him in. Fosta stumbles back towards the ring, very imbalanced...as Tristan comes up behind him, sets him up, and flips him backwards!

 

“Reverse Northern Lights?! Oh my God!”

 

“That was ridiculously cool, Axis. Why can’t you be cool?”

 

“I could put you in a Pepsi MAX© Vending Machine...would that be cool enough for you?”

 

“...point taken.”

 

Tryst lies on his back on the mat for a moment, taking in the atmosphere and planning his next move. Fosta isn’t moving, so he rolls him over to his back and tries for a pin to end this now.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

...Reverse Northern Lights? It was a harsh improvisational move.

 

 

TWO!

 

 

But will it be enough to crush the title hopes of young Fosta on this day?

 

 

TH-

 

It won’t. And as Fosta kicks out, Tryst gets to his feet, awaiting Fosta to do the same. He does, and so they begin to circle one another, moving round and round until one of them decides to make a move. Tryst fakes in to bait Fosta, who takes it and dives towards Tryst. He tries to get out of the way, but Fosta had a step on him, and tackles him to the ground. It knocks the wind out of Tristan, in much the way a shoulder to the stomach usually does, and he rolls to his right while holding his mid-section as Fosta gets to his knees, and then back to his feet. He leans against the ropes as he begins to get his second wind, awaiting his nemesis to get back on his feet. As Tryst slowly gets up to his feet, Fosta gets an idea, and shouts something out at someone in the crowd as he runs towards the ropes closest to Tryst, and leaps up onto them. Springing off, he catches Tryst right as he turns around, connecting a springboard forearm to his face! He drops to the mat and Fosta lands a few feet to the side on his hands and knees, quickly getting up and pulling Tryst back up as well. He kicks Tryst in the stomach a few times for good measure, and then irish whips him towards the other side of the ring. As he comes springing back off of the ropes, Fosta choreographs a back body drop. Tryst goes to counter with a kick to the chest, but Fosta leans up before the hit occurs and kicks Tryst in the other leg, sending him tumbling to the mat.

 

“His name is Mike, you loser. Mike Van Siclen.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You called him Mick.”

 

“...dude, that was like five minutes ago.”

 

“So? You’re still stupid. And if I were Tryst, I wouldn’t be able to walk right now.”

 

“True enough, that was a smart ploy by Fosta...but can he capitalize on the misfortune of good ol’ Tristan Whitt? Past experience would say no, so I guess we’ll find out.”

 

Fosta drops to the mat and tries to get a pin on Tryst, but he can’t get the shoulders down, not even for a one count. So, he starts to pull Tryst to his feet, but Tryst rolls away and out of the ring, escaping the clutches of his enemy. Fosta whines about it, but he has no choice but to roll out of the ring and pursue him. Instead, though, he goes to the ring announce table, and takes Funyon’s chair. He folds it, grabs it in both hands, and then goes after Tryst. Not knowing what to do, Tryst tries to keep on opposite side of the ring at all times. But as Fosta starts to run towards him with that chair held high, Tristan merely rolls into the ring to avoid it. Fosta goes into the ring with the chair and raises it to swing at Tryst, but Tryst dodges and the chair hits the ring ropes. The referee bursts out in obscenities, kicking and screaming at Fosta to get rid of the chair...when Fosta ignores him, the referee merely takes the chair from him and tosses it to the ground outside of the ring. This further infuriates Fosta, but he remains true to his task; defeat Tryst. He turns to his enemy, and motions for him to ‘bring it on’. However, Tryst doesn’t, and rather remains steadfast in his stance, awaiting a move from the other man.

 

“Bring it on? Wasn’t that the first ever JL stable, Axis?”

 

“It was, King. Indeed it was.”

 

“But why is Tryst refusing to bring it on? Is he perhaps afraid that Fosta will bust out the dreaded FTW symbol?”

 

“A naked picture of JD is hardly a symbol, King. And I’ll thank you to never ever mention that again.”

 

Fosta gets upset that Tryst isn’t attacking, and decides again to make the first move. He moves in slowly, leaving himself wide open for one of those hard side kicks that Tryst is so fond of. As he gets too close, Tryst sets up and takes a swing with his leg, but Fosta backs up, grabs the leg, and counters it into a dragon screw! He holds onto it, rolls Tryst onto his back, and has a modified version of a single-leg boston crab applied! Tryst’s face says it all, as he reaches in vain for the ropes in front of him. He tries, in agony, to pull himself to them, but he soon realizes that such an effort is futile, and he shall have to come up with another plan. He looks to his sides to see if he can reach them and break the hold, but that, again, is a futile effort. He’s equidistant from the ropes, and he has to power out of this submission if he’ll have any hope of winning here...and he’s going to have to do it fast. Fosta is keeping that single-leg crab on tight, wrenching away at that already injured leg, as Tristan panics. He’s trying to find a way out of the hold, but he’s quickly running out of time.

 

“Uh oh, King, Tryst is in a lot of trouble now...he may lose this match if he can’t break that hold quickly.”

 

“That’s true enough, Axis. Fosta already attacked that leg a little earlier with that devastating kick, so he can’t be able to hold on for much longer.”

 

Tryst goes for the last resort. He contorts his body into an angle, and starts kicking away at the small of Fosta’s back. He kicks once...twice...thrice...and the hold is beginning to loosen. One look into Fosta’s eyes would tell you that he is in pain...and yet, he refuses to give up the hold if he can help it. Tryst kicks again. Five times. Six times. Once more...and the hold is broken. Fosta falls forward, and Tryst rolls as far away as he can, claiming safe haven in the corner of the ring. Fosta is on his knees on the mat, holding his back as he looks back at Tryst with a glare. He says something under his breath, and then grabs the ropes to try and get to his feet. Tryst does the same, grabbing the ropes to help him up to his feet. He winces as he does so, the pain in his leg is fairly tremendous. Fosta smirks at the sight of this, and begins to head once more for the Sherwood Fable. Tryst gets to his feet and leans back into the corner. Thinking as if this is an easy way to attack, Fosta decides to rush in towards Tryst, who lies in wait for him. Holding onto the top ropes, Tristan leaps up and kicks Fosta in the face as he nears him, stopping him dead in his tracks. Getting his feet up and onto the second rope, he leaps out, locks his legs around Fosta’s neck, and sends him to the mat with a deadly hurricanrana! Fosta flips in the air and lands on the mat on the small of his back, yelping in anguish as he connects, and Tryst lands on his leg, yelling out in pain as he lands.

 

“Man, these guys are beating the hell out of each other. So much for that wussy WWE crap, this is the real deal!”

 

“...kayfabe. Moron.”

 

“Axis, shut up. For real this time.”

 

“Bite me, King. It’s about to be tea time on your ass!”

 

“Uh...I don’t know what you mean by that, but if you mean something even close to what I imagine you mean, then I’m going to murder you in your sleep tonight.

 

Fosta stares up at the ceiling from his spot on the mat, while Tryst does the same from his spot on the mat. The crowd begins to come to life, prompting a spur of the moment chant of “Sher-wood! Sher-wood!” Not knowing quite how to react, Tryst gathers his strength and manages to get himself up to his knees as he stares at Fosta across the ring. Fosta, in spite of the crowd, begins to get up as well. They get to their feet, and they stare out at one another from across the ring...the tension is so thick that one could cut it with a knife. They simultaneously rush towards each other. Tryst slides underneath as Fosta leaps up to kick, and the turn around, face to face again. Tryst throws a punch that is dodged by Fosta, who kicks straight up to catch Tryst in the face, but Tristan moves out of the way as well. Not waiting for the leg to drop back down, Tryst spins into a kick and tries to take out the free leg of Fosta, but he leaps into a spin, jumping over the leg and landing back down with his back facing Tryst. Tryst has him right where he wants him...

 

 

“Uh oh, Tryst is setting Fosta up...”

 

“Indeed he is, and Fosta doesn’t even see it!”

 

“How could he, King, he’s not facing him!”

 

“...that was the point.”

 

Fosta spins around, and Tryst leaps at him...kicking him directly into the chest, and sending him reeling back into the ring ropes! The crowd pops for the set-up, and Fosta, dazed, stumbles back towards Tryst...who lifts him up, twists him mid-air, and drives him face-first to the mat...

 

“...The Crusade! He hit it! He hit it! Come on Tryst, you’ve got him!”

 

“Do you run his fan club or something?”

 

Axis ignores King as Tryst rolls Fosta onto his back, and And he hooks the leg for the exhausted pinning attempt.

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

The hand drops once...

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

The hand drops twice....

 

 

 

THREE!!

 

And so, this story comes to a close.

 

“It’s OVER! Tryst drops Fosta like a bad habit, and he’ll move on in the TV title tournament!”

 

“That he will, Axis. This is King, with Axis, signing off.”

 

“The show isn’t over, you dolt!”

 

“Hmm...so it isn’t. Wishful thinking, I suppose.”

 

And so, as “Forest” by System of a Down begins to rattle the loudspeakers as Tryst rolls out of the ring and heads out through the crowd, looking for the girl with the sign from earlier as we fade out to our first commercial break of the evening.

[Rawknight 0]

Axis: Well, this match is all set from a challenge laid down by Thor. He reckoned that without the variable of Aecas that Norse warrior blood can defeat Maori fury.

 

Suicide King: So we get these two lugs going at it again?

 

Axis: These two great physical specimens tying it up for the second week running.

 

Suicide King: I’d like to see Spike Jenkins in there.

 

Axis: Why King?

 

Suicide King: No reason.

 

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, the next contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Rotorua, Aotearoa, weighing in at 285lbs, he is the Maori Badass, the wrestler who turns up and kicks ass, he is VAAAAAAAAAA’AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIGAAAAAAA.

 

"You know what time it be...." rings out over the speakers as "Strike It" by Dub War stars up. Va'aiga walks down the entranceway, stopping to shout into the ringside camera..

 

Va’aiga: VIOLENCE, TONIGHT!

 

… and slides into the ring as the verse plays, and as the chorus hits Va'aiga drops the Maori handsign and pyro fires off from behind him on the break inside the line "STRIKE IT... When the iron is hot."

 

Axis: A promise of Violence from the big Maori.

 

Suicide King: You know, when a Hacksaw Jim Duggan impersonating Norse God is still more subtle than you, you need a guile 101 class.

 

Funyon: And his opponent, from Immortal Valhalla, tipping the scales tonight at 345lbs, he hails from Immortal Valhalla itself, he’ll strike thee down, he is THOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR!

 

The lights go out and rhythmic chanting of the word "Thunder" begins to play as the stage fills with smoke, illuminated only by a faint blue spotlight. The crazy guitar-line grows steadily until Brian Johnson's voice screams out "You've been... THUNDERSTRUCK!!" at which point a lightning bolt crashes to the stage and an enormous blue and red pyro erupts on the stage. Out of the smoke steps Thor as he walks down the ramp with his hammer Mjolnir in hand and his match on his mind. He slaps the hands of some fans as he marches down the ramp until he gets to the ring where he steps over the top rope and flexes his generous biceps for the crowd.

 

Suicide King: You know, he should really hit more people with that war hammer.

 

Axis: That’s illegal King!

 

Suicide King: I know, that’s why I highly approve of it.

 

Thor hands Mjolnir to the ring attendant and the referee Eddy Long pats both combatants down for weapons. Thor grunts disapproval at the ref, and Va’aiga gets so frustrated with Long’s concern that he would be cheating, the big Maori nearly snaps right away and has to restraining himself from laying out the zebra shirted official. Eddy Long signals to the timekeeper to start the match.

 

Axis: The excitement is building here. The triple threat match last week was a brutal exhibition of pure unbridled power, and this should be no different.

 

The massive pair of wrestlers walk slowly to face each other in the middle of the ring. Thor has the height advantage over Va’aiga, but it’s by no means as massive as it would be over many wrestlers. The pair stand in the center of the ring, both staring a hole in each other. Thor shakes his shoulders a little sending a ripple of muscles across his massively built Norse body. Va’aiga, unfazed by a little show of definition from the muscular Thor cranks his neck to either side, tensing and untensing his neck muscles to keep them warm. The crowd remains undecided as to who to cheer for, splitting a “THOR! THOR! THOR!” and a “VAY-ING-UH!” chant almost 50/50 between them.

 

Axis: The crowd is electric in this stadium tonight.

 

Suicide King: I wonder if Crow would be interested in an electrified crowd deathmatch. All you’d need to do is crank 50,000 volts through each one of these morons, and then throw him into them!

 

Thor makes a massive point in tilting his head downwards to look at Va’aiga, exaggerating the angle in order to try to make the Maori feel inadequate. Va’aiga doesn’t adjust HIS view in the slightest, and allows himself a little smile, as both men continue to soak up the crowd chants and the atmosphere of their return to the American stage. Words are exchanged between the pair and a huge pop greets Thor’s shove as the first move of the match. Va’aiga staggers barely a step backwards, and the “Thor” chant grows larger with this offensive action. Va’aiga’s grin grows across his face so it’s clearly visible to the watching charge as he plants Thor down to the mat with a massive lariat, and the big Maori’s expression barely changes as Thor quickly regains his feet, his composure and his place in the in ring stand off.

 

Axis: Neither of these big guys look like they want to move an inch in this confrontation. This is a match that’s going to be won with muscle rather than tactics.

 

Suicide King: If you asked Thor about his tactics he’d say he’s never needed a breath mint.

 

The pair in the ring’s gaze remains unwavering, fixed steely eyed on each other. Neither man wants to make the next move rashly and possibly cede an advantage to their massive foe. A mouthed “Come On!” from Va’aiga to Thor extracts little response from the Thunder God, who remains blessed with the cool implacability befitting of an Asgardian Immortal. Va’aiga adds an extra “bitch” to his mouthed comment and Thor lashes out with a right hand!

 

Axis: Here we go folks, this match is fully underway!

 

Thor fires off a right cross, and Va’aiga responds with a left of his own, Thor hits a left, Va'aiga hits a hooked uppercut, Thor a solid left hand body shot, Va’aiga an elbow strike, Thor a hard chop, Va’aiga a speedy toe kick, Thor a very solid right hand, Va’aiga missed a shot as he stumbles back a half pace, Thor fires off three piston like rights, and whips Va’aiga into the ropes, grabbing the Maori Badass on the rebound around the chest and dancing him round with an orbital belly to belly sending both crashing to the canvas. Much to Thor’s surprise they rise together, and the stare out contest is resumed in the center of the ring.

 

Suicide King: It’s like the unintelligible force meets the unpronounceable object.

 

Axis: Don’t you mean the unstoppable force meets the immovable object.

 

At the commentary table Suicide King grins broadly.

 

Axis: No I guess you don’t.

 

Va’aiga fires off a right hand into Thor’s gut but Thor responds blasting him with a similar left hand shot. Va’aiga grunts and fires a punch away intended for Thor’s head, but Thor weaves and lands another body blow with his right hand this time. Va’aiga knees Thor in the gut, and Thor composes himself and launches a head BUTT from on high at Va’aiga. Va’aiga gives his biggest, broadest grin as a response to the head BUTT and quickly responds by stepping across Thor and taking him down with a STO. Va’aiga goes into the mount position and rains down a series of quick blows to Thor’s head before standing again. Thor stands, a little slower this time, suffering a little from the force of the blows.

 

Suicide King: Rule 2 of professional wrestling. Never head BUTT anyone from the Pacific Islands.

 

Axis: Though I may regret asking this, what’s rule 1, King?

 

Suicide King: No one is better than Suicide King!

 

Va’aiga strikes away at Thor with a pair of rapid fire elbows and goes for an Irish Whip, but Thor do-see-dos Va’aiga and the big Maori rebounds rapidly off the ropes. Thor goes high with a vicious clothesline, Va’aiga goes low looking for one of his brutal shoulder tackles, and the pair miss each other, Va’aiga’s momentum carrying him onto the far ropes. Va’aiga careers back Thorwards, and Maori head meets raised Norse boot, sending the Badass down to the canvas. Thor drops a leg over the fallen Maori and covers 1… 2… and Va’aiga kicks out. Thor stands and drops a leg again, and covers again. 1… 2… and Va’aiga lifts a shoulder. Thor stands and drops his leg a third time, but Va’aiga rolls to a side and Thor lands tailbone first on the canvas.

 

Suicide King: And rule three... never try any move 3 times! Except low blows, and these guys are both too stupid to use them.

 

Axis: Surely too upright and generally honest.

 

Suicide King: As I said - stupid.

 

Va’aiga stands, and follows that by dragging Thor up to his massive Thunder God feet, before sliding in round behind the Valahallan and dropping the pair down to the mat with a Side Maori Legsweep. Va’aiga applies an Octagon Special while on the ground, but Thor counters the abdominal stretch like hold by rolling his weight over so he has an impromptu back press on the massive Maori. Eddy Long gets down to count 1… 2… and Va’aiga kicks out and breaks the hold. Thor stands up first, stalking the big Maori, and as Va’aiga stands, Thor grabs one of Va’aiga’s arms, smashing in a devastating heart punch to the exposed chest of the Maori, and Va’aiga falls to the ground. Thor drops to cover 1… 2… and Va’aiga breaks.

 

Axis: Thor using his body weight to his advantage there

 

Suicide King: Well he has to use it for something.

 

The pair stand again, a little more slowly this time, and Va’aiga starts the strikes again with a left right combination of body blows with his ham like fists. Thor stumbles back a half step and goes for a whip again, but Thor reverses to an Arm Wringer. Thor backs off a step and spins in rapidly at Va'aiga looking for the Hel-Fire, but the massive Maori ducks under the dreaded finisher of the Valhallan God and snaps off a speedy if a little twisted backdrop suplex, landing Thor solidly across his back. Va’aiga floats over to cover 1… 2.. and Thor kicks out. Va’aiga stands first and lifts Thor up to his feet. Thor swings a left hook at Va’aiga and the Maori ducks and moves in, grabbing for a belly to belly and with a grunt, a heave and a first time failure, somehow throws the Norseman over his head with a huge belly to belly suplex. The crowd oohs and aaahs at the feat of strength this took and Va’aiga smiles to himself before walking over to the fallen God and dropping a casual elbow, leaving his arm draped over Thor for a soft cover. 1… 2… and Thor kicks out.

 

Axis: Look at the power of Va’aiga, Look at the strength.

 

Suicide King: No thanks. I might lose my lunch.

 

Va’aiga stands and flexes his shoulders, keeping himself flexible mid match, and awaits Thor’s rising. Thor stands up slowly, clutching at his back, gravity and Va’aiga’s power working against the spine and ribcage of the Thunder God. Va’aiga kicks Thor in the gut, bending the massive Norseman double and moves in for a standing head scissors, but as Va’aiga wraps his arms round the waist of the Valhallan one, Thor manages to stand up, backdropping the big Maori down to the canvas.

 

Suicide King: That was a dumb mistake. I’d never try to lift someone the size of Thor.

 

Axis: Va’aiga is a lot stronger than you, King.

 

Suicide King: Yeah but I’m a lot smarter than Va’aiga. And his family. Put together.

 

Va’aiga graons a little as Thor drops another leg across his ribcage, then lifts the Maori Badass up and puts HIM in a standing head scissors. With considerably less trouble than Va’aiga had, Thor lifts the big Maori up into a powerbomb position and pushes forwards and out, dropping Va’aiga down to the canvas.

 

Thor: HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Thor drops down to cover Va’aiga 1… 2… and Va’aiga rolls a shoulder up. Thor stands much quicker than the big Maori and picks Va’aiga up, pressing him above his head. A resounding “Thor” chant fills the arena as Thor presses Va’aiga first once, then a second time, then a third before taking a solid step forward, dropping Va’aiga flat to the mat where he had been standing. Thor signals to the crowd and lifts Va’aiga from the mat, kicking the massive Maori in the gut and gutwrenching him round looking for the Ragnarok, but Va’aiga shifts his weight halfway up the arc and the power of gravity pushes Thor down to the mat , Va’aiga on top. 1… 2… and Thor kicks out, with a sour expression crossing his Godly facial features.

 

Axis: If Thor has hit that Ragnarok this match would be over!

 

Suicide King: If ifs and buts were candy and nuts we’d all have cake for dinner.

 

Va’aiga grabs Thor by an arm and lifts him up, but Thor angrily shakes off the Maori Badass and lashes in a sequence of left hands, staggering Va’aiga back towards the ropes. Thor goes for a goozle, but Va’aiga drapes an arm over the ropes and Eddy Long calls for a break before Thor can chokeslam Va’aiga. Thor backs off a step as the referee reprimands him, but before Va’aiga has a chance to move away from the ropes, Thor takes a long pace in and clotheslines Va’aiga over the ropes and down onto the ring apron, and the big Maori is unable to keep his precarious balance and bundles down to the floor. A little dazed Va’aiga grabs for a chair from ringside, but Thor leaves the ring from an adjacent side and reaches a chair of this own before the Maori Badass can use a foreign object to his advantage.

 

Axis: Uh oh.. both men here have gone for chairs. I expect only bad things to come of this.

 

Suicide King: Good! Both these men deserve to be hurt. And badly.

 

Axis: That’s very uncharitable.

 

Suicide King: Charity begins at home. And when you’re as great as me, charity should end there too.

 

With the pair outside the ring, and both armed with chairs, the decibel level in the building is increasing rapidly, with rabid dueling chants for both combatants ringing around the arena. Thor and Va’aiga stalk each other, both chair in hand, while Eddy Long screams protestations about the unnecessary levels of violence, and slaps on a ring out count for good measure. Thor and Va’aiga, both of the same mind swing the chairs at each other and the chairs clash with a resounding clang against each other. Both try a more round swing at each other’s midriffs and again the chairs clang off each other, buckling a little more. A third swing, overhead again and another clash of steel on steel. A fourth time and as Thor swings high, Va’aiga drops his chair and charges with a powerful rugby tackle, smashing Thor back first into the ring apron. Thor howls in pain as Va’aiga rolls in and out of the ring to break Eddy Long’s count.

 

Axis: Va’aiga wants to keep this match on the outside.

 

Suicide King: Shows the extent of his technical prowess. None.

 

Va’aiga grabs a side headlock on Thor and suplexes the big man over, landing Thor on the protective mats. Va'aiga stands and looks out into the excited crowd, then climbs up onto the ring apron and drops an elbow down onto the prone form of Thor on the protective mats! The massive Maori picks Thor up and slides him into the ring, following quickly and dropping to cover. 1… 2… and Thor kicks out. Va’aiga rolls Thor onto his back, sits on him and slings Thor’s arms over his Maori knees, then slides his arms under Thor’s chin and wrenches back hard, screaming out to the audience.

 

Va’aiga: C’MON! TAP! ASK HIM!

 

Eddy Long asks Thor if he wants to give up, but the Norseman mouths a No to the referee. Va’aiga wrenches back on the hold, his face contorted into a massive scream and the anguish of the pressure clearly shows across the face of Thor. Va’aiga requests of Eddy Long again.

 

Va’aiga: ASK HIM! DAMNIT! ASK HIM!

 

Again Eddy Long asks Thor if he wants to give, and again Thor gives a no, despite the agonizing pressure of a well applied Kiwi Clutch clearly having an effect on the big Norseman. Va’aiga gets Eddy to ask again, and again Thor says no.

 

Axis: Thor is defiant! Thor is unwilling to give!

 

Suicide King: Thor is an idiot! Think of the medical bills! Think of the permanent damage!

 

Va’aiga relinquishes the hold and Thor slumps to the mat, taking the opportunity for a quick breather, only to find his legs being dragged forcefully off the canvas and wrenched back the other way, as on top of the grounded God, Va’aiga has spun around and lifted the aforementioned legs, sitting down into the Maori Crab. Va’aiga grits his teeth, draws in breath and then lets out a mighty scream as he piles the pressure on the legs and back of the fallen Thor.

 

Va’aiga: ASK HIM!

 

Eddy Long again asks Thor if he wants to quit, and again Thor says no. Thor slowly begins inching his way towards the ropes, and every so slightly lessens the leverage the massive Maori has against his Godly form. Va’aiga shouts in frustration as he feels the hold slipping away from him and Thor grabs hold of the ropes with a massive Valhallan arm. Eddy Long tells Va’aiga to break and Va’aiga takes 4.9999 of the 5 count to relinquish the hold. Thor rolls out of the ring briefly to recover some strength, clutching hold of his lower back as in the ring Va’aiga strikes a dominant pose for the adoring crowd.

 

Va’aiga: MY HOUSE!

 

Suicide King: I wish the landlord would evict him.

 

As Thor climbs onto the ring apron Va'aiga backs off to allow him back into the ring. Va’aiga charges Thor on his return and grabs for an arm, whipping Thor and then following that up with a low but shockingly powerful flapjack!

 

Va’aiga: C’MON!

 

Va’aiga stomps away at Thor’s back a few times before drawing a finger across his throat, picking up Thor and slinging him over his shoulder, holding him there for a few precuis seconds, allowing the crowd to draw breath and cheer for the move and spiking Thor down HARD with the Southern Lights bomb! The crowd cheers for the big move and even harder for Thor’s response, as the Thunder God stands STRAIGHT BACK UP!

 

Axis: Look at the power of Thor!

 

Thor ducks and grabs for Va’aiga’s legs, slinging the big Maori unceremoniously across his shoulders, then whipping him down to the mat with the Asgardian Slam! And VA’AIGA STANDS STRAIGHT BACK UP!

 

Axis: Look at the power of Va’aiga!

 

The pair jaw with each other in the center of the ring and both run for the opposite ropes, rebound, shape for shoulder blocks, and collide in the centre of the ring with amazing force, crashing shoulder first into each other leaving both massive men sparked out on the canvas doing passable impersonations of starfish. Eddy Long stands over both fallen combatants and puts on a ten count, with the crowd counting along. One… two… three…

 

Axis: This could end in a double knock out right here.

 

Four… five… six…

 

Suicide King: Good. Neither of these idiots deserves to win.

 

Seven… eight… Va’aiga slowly raises to his feet… Nine… and Thor to his. The pair steady themselves against the ropes on either side of the ring.

 

Suicide King: Damn!

 

Thor grabs Va’aiga by the throat and throws him across the ring, and the big Maori rolls off his back and gets up. Va’aiga charges back at Thor, but a wild lariat misses and the turned Maori finds himself on the receiving end of a massive backdrop suplex. Thor covers 1… 2… and Va’aiga kicks out. Thor picks Va’aiga off the ground by the throat and looks to the sky, the crowd excitement building to a near crescendo as Thor picks up Va’aiga, lifts him, holds him aloft for the crowd to see and chokeslams him down to the mat! 1… 2… and Va’aiga kicks out!

 

Axis: Thor has to be thinking, “What can I do to pin this guy?”

 

Suicide King: Thor has to be thinking?

 

Thor lifts Va’aiga up off the canvas again, turns the big Maori so Thor is behind him, puts his head under one armpit and lifts the 285lber up into the TORTURE RACK! Va’aiga winces with the pain going through his body, and Thor screams out to the crowd for support. Another split crowd chant rings out through the arena, as Thor bounces the massive Maori around on his shoulder increasing both the pain for Va’aiga and the pressure on himself. Va'aiga screams a massive defiant NO! to the referee and the crowd. Eddy Long asks Va’aiga again, and again the Maori Badass calls out NO!

 

Axis: Va’aiga will not give up! Va’aiga will not quit!

 

Suicide King: You will not shut up!

 

Axis: I’m an announcer, I’m paid to talk.

 

Suicide King: Too much…

 

Thor looks to put a superhuman amount of effort into one last flex, but his back, worn down by all the high impact offense both given and received gives out and Thor crumbles to the mat, Va’aiga landing on top of him. 1… 2… and Thor summons up a gasp of energy and kicks out!

 

Axis: MY GOD! Thor kicked out!

 

Va’aiga curses to himself and picks Thor up, draping him over one shoulder then slamming him down from a high height.

 

Va’aiga: BITCH!

 

Va’aiga drops to cover, 1… 2… and Thor kicks out again. Va’aiga lifts Thor up by the throat, and steps through slamming down Thor with a modified STO! Va’aiga kips up to his feet, dropping to a crouch, stalking Thor. Thor stands, slower than even before and Va’aiga grabs him and drops him straight backwards with an Exploder Suplex! 1… 2… and Thor kicks out AGAIN!

 

Axis: Thor has such a reserve of energy, he’s so hard to beat.

 

Suicide King: He even has trouble beating himse…

 

Axis: Don’t!

 

Va'aiga looks at Thor, stuck on the ground, stomps away a couple of times on him, then the expression of pure violence and unreserved hatred crosses his face for the second week running, the eyes bulge, the neck veins stick out, the stare into the crowd is focused, and the crowd noise builds, expecting what the Maori Badass is about to suggest…

 

Va’aiga: MAORI DROP!

 

The crowd explodes into a near universal chant of “VAY-ING-UH!” as Va'aiga lifts Thor, Gutwrenches him to a hold across the massive Maori chest, takes a few paces back into the ropes then takes three long running steps forward, leaps into the air and falls forward, pinning Thor down to the mat with the RUNNING MAORI DROP! Va’aiga hooks a leg and Eddy Long counts 1… 2… THREE! Va’aiga music fires up.

 

Axis: Va'aiga wins! Va’aiga wins!

 

Suicide King: I always knew he could.

 

Meanwhile Va'aiga slips outside the ring, grabs for a chair and slides it in, picks up Thor and delivers a second MAORI DROP onto the chair! “STRIKE IT… when the iron is hot, ” the music starts again. He beckons for a mic.

 

Axis: Now what was that for?

 

Va’aiga: See, Last week, I gave this guy props. But he came back and wanted a rematch. Well want some? Got some! See tonight this was MY HOUSE, and I just showed you what this badass always does; Turn Up and…

 

Va'aiga pauses to let the crowd join in with his hook line…

 

Va’aiga with the crowd: KICK ASS!

[Guest Chuck Woolery]

Eh...

 

---

 

The crowd goes nuts as we return to SJL Crimson, live from the Gund Arena in Cleveland, Ohio. The Cleveland crowd, finally getting a night off from the Cavs, is especially hot tonight, waving signs that read things like “One Bad Maorif**ker”, “Afro Thunder”, and the ever-present “Mark” with the arrow pointing down. Gotta love those smarks. Anyway, we send it to Axis and the Suicide King, live from the commentary table, to bring us back into the thick of things!

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Axis cries, “welcome back to SJL Crimson!”

 

“That’s right, cats, we’re back and we’re live,” King says. “We were supposed to have a hell of a show for you tonight… but, it sucks. Tryst/Fosta was boring, Storm/Blackwell was predictable, the Perfect Challenge was everything but, our new guys suck, Aecas/Carpenter was mind-numbingly bad, Va’aiga/Thor was a suckfest of three dollar hooker proportions, and don’t even get me started on Hollywood vs Atlas.”

 

“…you’re bringing the happy tonight.”

 

“Bite me.”

 

“Well, despite Captain A**monger’s attempts to tune all of you out, we’re glad you’re still here, and you’re not going to want to miss tonight’s main event – the SJL Heavyweight Champion, Mike Van Siclen, going one on one with Janus in a Canadian Deathmatch for the title that Mike Van Siclen currently wears around his waist.”

 

“Yeah, this should be a doozy. If I were at home I’d set my sleep timer to twenty, because by the time this match is over I’ll be asleep.”

 

“That was piss-poor, King, what’s your problem?”

 

“I’m just… very disappointed, is all.”

 

“Well, it doesn’t matter if you’re disappointed! Because tonight, coming up, Mike Van Siclen, Janus, Canadian Death! Funyon, take us home!”

 

Funyon, mid-ring, clears his throat and begins to speak. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a CANADIAN DEATH MATCH for the ESS JAY ELL HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP! In this contest, every count cants as a point, and the first man to ten points wins! However, you must get three counts to score any points!”

 

The lights go out all across the arena, plunging the place into darkness. Nothing happens for several moments, until the start of Fear Factory's "Resurrection" can be heard. On either side of the rampway, blue pyros begin to fountain into the air as the lyrics start:

 

"Consumed with memories,

That preceded today.

Given a chance to bereave

Life that's slipping away!"

 

As the heavy guitar chords hit, a spotlight focuses onto the stage entrance as Janus strides out from behind the curtain, tossing his hair from his face and stalking towards the ring.

 

“Introducing first, the challenger! Weighing in at three-hundred and FIFTY pounds, he hails from Sydney, Australia! Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANUS!”

 

Each blue pyro goes out as he passes it, and he climbs into the ring slowly and stoically. He stands in the center of the ring, lit only by the spotlight......and lifts his arms into the air.

 

*BOOM*

 

Blue flame-pyros explode from the turnbuckles ala Kane as the lights come back on and Janus waits in the ring. The camera fades out, giving us a shot of the entire arena as the familiar yellow logo flashes across the screen, displaying its text – “TALE OF THE TAPE™”. The familiar yellow bars come down, with Mike Van Siclen’s face in the upper left corner and Janus’ face in the lower right. Their stats are displayed across the middle of the screen.

 

“As you can see from these stats,” Axis says, “Janus has a whopping ten-inch height advantage on our World champion, him being 7’2” while Van Siclen is only 6’4”. Janus also outweighs Mike by a hundred pounds and change, the big man weighing in at 350 while Mike holds steady at 237. In the reach department Janus has an advantage as well, his 73” reach dwarfing Mike’s 60” reach. And in the bench press department it is no contest, with Mike benching only 430 pounds to Janus’ whopping 700. King, I don’t think you can deny that the big man’s stats are very impressive.”

 

“Well, Axis, I can’t,” King says. “But what I can deny is that they mean anything, and I don’t feel they do. It’s just like I said three weeks ago, Axis – Janus may be a big man, but Mike will run circles around him. Mike’s beaten Janus once before, and just because of that I think Mike can pull out another victory here.”

 

“Well, here’s a counterpoint for you – Janus scored a victory over Van Siclen at Mall Brawl IV…”

 

“…in the definition of a garbage match.”

 

“The fact remains, King.”

 

Both men are shut up, however, as “Resurrection” fades out, and the four quick cymbals and even quicker guitar riff that begins “Damage Done” by Dark Tranquility blasts throughout the arena, as the lights go out and blue strobes begins to flash in time with the music. Mike Van Siclen steps onto the ramp, his arms extending in a bent crucifix under his acid-green jacket, the SJL Heavyweight Championship strapped snugly around his waist. He spins around on the ramp, grinning like a madman as he breaks out of his spin cycle and steps cockily down the entrance ramp, sliding into the ring and extending his arms to the side, dropping his arms and letting his jacket slide off and to the mat. Tonight’s referee, Nick Soapdish, hurriedly picks it up, as Mike motions with his hands for the crowd to give him more boos.

 

“And the champion! Weighing in at two-hundred, thirty-seven pounds, he hails from Harrison, Illinois, and is your SMARKS JUNIOR LEAGUES HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION! Ladies and gentlemen alike, raise your hands in the air for this Spectacular individual, MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE VA-AN SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC-LEEEEEEEEN!”

 

Naturally, the crowd boos, as Mike unstraps the SJL Championship from around his waist and hands it Soapdish. Soapdish holds it up, and then hands it to a ring attendant. He steps back into the center of the ring and signals for the bell.

 

-=: Ding Ding Ding :=-

 

Van Siclen and Janus circle around in the middle of the ring, neither man wanting to make the first move. Mike dances around in a circle, trying to stay loose, while Janus slowly lumbers around, never taking his eye off of Van Siclen. Finally, the two break their standoff and charge to the middle of the ring, Janus getting the upper hand and putting Mike into an arm wringer – but Van Siclen levels a kick right at Janus’ right shin! Janus buckles a bit, but keeps the wringer on as Mike levels another kick at the right shin of Janus!

 

The big man seems to be losing it but keeps the hold on, as Van Siclen gives Janus another kick to the right shin! And finally, the big man lets go of the hold, turning around and shaking his leg out. Mike, too, shakes the body part that has been worked (his arm) out, and Janus turns around, staring daggers through Van Siclen. The two charge each other again, and this time Mike gets the advantage, grapevining his right leg around Janus’ and shoving the big man, tripping him up. Mike quickly jumps on top of Janus, pulling back the right leg in the hopes of scoring a flash pinfall.

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO – TWO COUNT!” Janus hurls his right shoulder up, and Van Siclen stands up, brushing his dark hair out of his eyes and allowing the big man to get himself to his feet.

 

“Van Siclen targeting the leg early King, but this strategy may not work to his advantage – submissions mean nothing in this type of match!”

 

“This is true, Axis, but if you are to take a look at Janus’ moveset you will see that most of his moves involve lifting the opponent, and this lifting takes a very precious balance. When Mike targets the leg it disrupts this balance, meaning that as the match progresses Janus will be less able to use most of his moves.”

 

Janus gets to his feet, working the kinks out of it as he turns around to see Mike Van Siclen grabbing him by the arm, looking to whip the big man into the ropes – but Janus simply runs past Mike, using his own body as an anchor to slingshot Van Siclen into the ropes! Mike hits them hard and comes back, Janus looking for a huge lariat but Mike ducking underneath it, running to the other side!

 

Janus turns around, confused, as Mike slides right by Janus’ right leg, chopping it out from underneath him! Janus hits the mat hard, landing on his stomach, and Van Siclen grabs Janus by the right leg, putting the huge competitor into a single Boston crab! Janus, close to the ropes, reaches out and grabs them, causing the ref to start a five count on Mike.

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THREE!”

 

“FOUR!”

 

“FIV – “ Van Siclen breaks the crab, walking forward and getting an earful from Soapdish as on the ropes, Janus gets to his feet, trying to shake out all the damage done to his right leg.

 

“Van Siclen continuing to work on the right leg of Janus, and King, I don’t know how smart that is. If I were Van Siclen, I would be hitting all of my big power moves in an attempt to knock Janus out for a three count.”

 

“Then Mike is lucky you aren’t him, Axis. Mike is being patient here, working on Janus’ leg instead of thinking that he has to end the match early. It’ll pay off later, you’ll see.”

 

The champion turns back to Janus, grabbing the big man and whipping him into the ropes. This time, Janus doesn’t fight it, assuming that he’ll be able to come back and give Mike a huge lariat, and he sets up for it on the way back – but Van Siclen again hits the mat, dropping Janus down with a drop toe hold! Mike stands up, smiling dangerously, as he delivers an angry toe kick to the back of Janus’ right leg!

 

The giant rolls onto his back, bringing his knee in to his chest, as the champion shows no remorse in kicking Janus in the leg again! Janus rolls back in pain, near the ropes, and as Van Siclen moves in for another kick Soapdish intervenes, telling the champ to back off and let Janus get to his feet. Angrily, Mike turns away from Janus, mocking the big man to the fans by fake-hobbling around on his left leg. This move draws the ire of the Cleveland crowd, and they bring the boos to Van Siclen.

 

“Mike Van Siclen choosing to mock Janus, and King, I don’t know if that’s the smartest thing that Van Siclen could do.”

 

“Not the smartest, maybe. But it’s sure as hell true.”

 

Van Siclen turns back around to face Janus, charging the big man and looking for the Cactus clothesline over the top… but Janus ducks underneath it! Van Siclen hits the ropes, stomach-first, and Janus rolls off of the ropes so that Van Siclen backs right into him. The challenger grabs Mike in a waistlock, lifting Van Siclen high into the air and then slamming him to the mat with a German Suplex! Janus holds for the bridge!

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“TH – TWO COUNT!” Mike gets the shoulder up, and Janus rolls over onto his stomach, rolling Mike into the same position. Janus stands up, lifting Mike to his feet and holding the waistlock. Janus once again lifts Van Siclen high into the air, and slams him down once again with an equally vicious German Suplex! Janus once again holds for the bridge!

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THR – TWO COUNT!” Mike once again gets the shoulder up, and Janus once again rolls onto his stomach, rolling Mike with him. Janus stands, lifting the champion up and into position for another German Suplex. Again, Janus lifts Mike high into the air, and again falls backwards, slamming Mike down with a German Suplex that reeks of finality! Janus holds for the bridge!

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THR – NO!” Van Siclen rolls over onto his stomach, then pushes himself up so that he is straddling Janus! Mike puts his hands against Janus’ shoulders as now Soapdish counts Mike’s cover on Janus!

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“TH – TWO COUNT!” Janus shoves Mike off of him, the champion bouncing all the way over to the ropes. He grabs onto the bottom one, lifting himself to his feet, as Janus too lifts himself to his feet, readying himself for the next sequence.

 

“Janus with the multiple held Germans on Van Siclen, and he very nearly got nine counts out of this exchange!”

 

“But, Axis! But Mike’s desire to retain his title turns the possible nine counts into a big zero! The score is still tied zero-zero…”

 

“But Janus has the momentum, King!”

 

Indeed Janus does, and the big man raises one arm, signaling for the chokeslam! Van Siclen, unable to see Janus’ arm raised as he uses the ropes to hoist himself to his feet, turns around… and Janus grabs him around the neck! The crowd roars for the big man as he grabs Mike’s left arm, throwing it over his right shoulder as he lifts the Spectacular one high into the air!... and forcefully slams him back down with a vicious Chokeslam! Janus drops down, making the cover on Van Siclen…

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THREE!”

 

“FOU- THREE COUNT!” Van Siclen gets his shoulder up before any more damage can be done, and Janus stands up, grabbing Van Siclen by the hair and lifting him to his feet as the crowd erupts and the graphic on the Smarktron changes to reflect the score – Janus 3, Mike 0.

 

“How many times have we seen the chokeslam lead into a blatant choke, King? But Janus alters his game plan a bit tonight, and it leads to him scoring three points on Van Siclen!”

 

“Three points is nothing, Axis. You just watch, Van Siclen will reassert himself right here.”

 

Janus, still holding onto Van Siclen’s hair, gives him a huge punch right to the kidney! Van Siclen doubles over… but Janus yanks Mike back up into a standing position! The crowd erupts as Janus again kidney punches the champ, and again Van Siclen doubles over! Janus lets go of his grip on Mike’s hair, now grabbing him by the arm and whipping him into the turnbuckle! Mike hits hard, and Janus comes roaring in like a freight train, jarring Mike with an avalanche!

 

Mike falls down the buckle as Janus turns away from Mike, shaking his leg out a bit before turning back to the champ. He grabs Van Siclen by the hair and pulls him up to his full height against the turnbuckle. Janus cups Mike’s chin in his left hand, rearing back with his right and delivering a monster chop to Mike’s stomach!

 

“WHOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Van Siclen stumbles a bit out of the corner, but Janus grabs him by the neck with his right arm and nearly throws Van Siclen back into the turnbuckle. Janus cups Mike’s chin again with his left hand, rearing back with his right…

 

“WHOOOOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd erupts as Van Siclen stumbles out of the turnbuckle, hanging onto the ropes to keep his balance as Janus backs off, setting up for the next sequence.

 

“Janus with a couple of wicked-looking chops on the champion, and Van Siclen looks just about dead, King! What’s he going to do now?”

 

“Well, Axis, Janus will probably try some big-ass power move right about now. I think Van Siclen’s best bet would be to counter it into his finisher, score a quick three, and then work from there.”

 

Mike stumbles off of the ropes, trying to recapture his balance. Janus, however, chooses not to help Mike’s cause, kneeing the tiny-by-comparison champion square in the stomach! Mike doubles over, and Janus grabs Mike under the arms and thrusts him into a standing headscissors! The crowd roars for this, and referee Soapdish looks at Janus… missing the subtle low-blow that Van Siclen gives to Janus by jerking his head upwards! Janus doesn’t miss it, though, as he grabs at his testes in pain.

 

Van Siclen takes advantage of the giant’s guard being let down, grabbing him by the legs and standing up to his full height, setting up for the back-to-belly piledriver known as the Van Slaminator! Van Siclen, unable to hold Janus’ weight for long, quickly sits out, driving Janus’ head into the mat! The champ lets go of Janus’ legs, causing the big man to fall onto his back on the canvas! Mike quickly stands up, then drops down onto Janus, hooking the leg!

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THREE!”

 

“FOU – THREE COUNT!” The crowd boos Van Siclen as he quickly stands up, raising one arm with three fingers extended! The scoreboard reflects what Van Siclen nonverbally says, changing to read Janus 3, Mike 3.

 

“And Van Siclen with the low blow that gets the three count! What a cheating…”

 

“Now now, Axis, don’t sell Van Siclen short. Sure, the low blow set it up, but it was the Van Slaminator that got three, not the low blow. Oh, and as an aside – I told you so.”

 

The champ turns back around to face Janus, a smile on his face as he stands between the challenger’s legs. Mike grabs the right one, lifting it up… and then leveling a hard kick right at the knee! Janus grabs the leg in pain, the crowd booing the obviously heel action of Van Siclen. Mike turns around, facing the crowd and making a motion around his waist and yelling “I’M THE CHAMP!” Van Siclen turns back around to see Janus struggling to his feet near the ropes. Mike goes over to the big man and grabs him by the arm, whipping him into the ropes with all the force he can muster.

 

Janus flies into the ropes, coming back and right into another drop toe hold from Van Siclen! Janus falls to the mat face-first, and Mike grabs him by the right leg, lifting it up into the air and then slamming it down into the mat! Janus grabs his leg in pain, rolling over onto his back, and Mike levels one more kick to Janus’ right leg for good measure before turning around, brushing the hair out of his eyes and preparing for the next sequence.

 

“Van Siclen attacking Janus’ right leg some more. King, you’re supposed to be smart, why the hell doesn’t Mike just catch him with a Riot Act and pin him?”

 

“The answer to that is obvious, Axis – it’s far, far too early to set up a move of as much power as the Riot Act. Mike catching Janus with the Van Slaminator early can be called a fluke – Mike needs to make sure that Janus won’t be able to reverse it, and then go for the kill.”

 

Van Siclen turns back around, facing Janus and lifting the giant to his feet. He grabs the big man by the arm, whipping him into the ropes once more. Janus comes back, and Mike looks for another drop toe hold… but Janus finally catches on and jumps over Mike’s legs! The champ quickly gets to his feet as Janus runs to the other ropes and comes back, looking for a lariat on Van Siclen… but Mike ducks that, and Janus charges to the other ropes, coming back towards Van Siclen again!

 

Mike, thinking quickly, sidesteps Janus to the left, but times his kick right as Janus runs past him and catches him square on the side of the knee! Janus grabs his leg, dropping like Kevin Nash tearing a quad, and Mike leaps on the opportunity. He runs to the ropes, bouncing off of them and running back at Janus. He leaps into the air, flipping over and landing back-first right on Janus’ right leg! Mike grabs his back in minor pain while Janus grabs his right leg in immense pain, both men getting to their feet and preparing for the next sequence.

 

“Van Siclen catches Janus with a huge senton to the knee, but I think he may have hurt himself there!”

 

“Of course he did, Axis – every move hurts in wrestling, you know that. But the pain is minimal, and of the type that Van Siclen is used to. Janus just had two-hundred and thirty-seven pounds crash into his leg – how do you think he feels?”

 

Van Siclen stumbles to his feet, shaking the pain out of his back as he looks down at Janus, who is also struggling to his feet. The champ, seeing Janus getting to his feet, levels a kick at his right knee, which sends the big man down to one knee. Mike turns away from Janus, fake-hobbling around on his left leg, taunting both the crowd and the giant slowly getting up behind him. Janus, looking up, sees Van Siclen mocking him, and his face turns a burning red. Van Siclen, satisfied by the boos of the crowd, turns around… right into a stiff-as-hell lariat from Janus! The champion falls down, but gets up quickly… and right into another lariat from Janus! The champ stays down this time as the Hell Machine shakes out the pain in his right leg, the roaring cheers of the crowd sliding off of him as though he were covered in grease.

 

“Van Siclen mocks Janus, and it costs him dearly, as the big man clearly just took control in this match. Wouldn’t you say so, King?”

 

“… come on, Axis, are you a moron? This happens all the time in wrestling. Little man champion goes against big angry man challenger, little man dominates, big man hits the flashy offense, everyone cheers, little man regains control and retains. It’ll happen here, too.”

 

Janus, tired of waiting, walks over to Van Siclen and hoists the champion to his feet. The big monster whips Van Siclen into the ropes, falling to one knee from the force but regaining his balance as Mike makes his way back… and is lifted high into the air, and then slammed down right onto his back, victim of a high-angle spinebuster by the challenger! Janus, not wasting any time, leaps on Van Siclen for the cover.

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“TH – TWO COUNT!” Van Siclen gets the shoulder up before any points can be registered, and Janus lifts Van Siclen up, angrily whipping the confident champion into the ropes. Van Siclen hits them and bounces back like a pinball at Janus, only to get hoisted up high once more, and then slammed down even harder than before onto his back! Janus once again makes the cover…

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“TH – TWO COUNT!” And again only manages two, as Van Siclen raises the shoulder! Janus, sweat dripping off of his face, looks at Soapdish for a second before planting a mighty fist into the mat and lifting himself to his feet, shaking the kinks out of his right leg.

 

“Janus once again using the same move multiple times in succession, this time two spinebusters!”

 

“Unfortunately for Janus, they are only for two counts, and Van Siclen is showing a lot of heart and determination in this match tonight. Weaker men would’ve been done at the Germans, but Mike has held on all match.”

 

“… King, two minutes ago you were verbally fellating him for how well he was dominating the match.”

 

Janus turns around to face Van Siclen, who is laying on the mat and looking an awful lot like roadkill. A sick smile spreads across Janus’ face as he lifts the Spectacle to his feet, whipping the champ into the ropes with all he can muster! Mike hits the turnbuckles violently, stumbling out of the corner… and right into a Gore from Janus! Mike topples like a ton of bricks from the move, as Janus stands up, looking down at the champion with a look of utter disgust. He kicks his leg out, trying to relieve it of some stress before he drops to his knees to make a surefire three count.

 

“ONE!”

 

”TWO!”

 

“TH – hold up…” Soapdish breaks off the count, spotting Van Siclen’s leg on the bottom rope! Janus, rightfully pissed about this development, gets to his feet and begins to stalk Soapdish, slapping his left hand on his right one three times. Van Siclen, meanwhile, slowly gets to his feet in the corner, as a frustrated Janus turns around to beat on him some more.

 

“Janus with the MONSTER Gore on Van Siclen, but the champ manages to get his foot on the ropes, breaking up the count!”

 

“Call him cheap, call him a weasel, call him whatever you want, Axis, but the man is resourceful. He knew that he wasn’t going to be able to kick out after a move of that caliber, so instead of trying he put his foot on the ropes. Janus should be angry at himself in this situation, for not moving MVS away from the ropes before making the pin.”

 

Van Siclen is nearly on his feet in the corner, but Janus helps him along a bit, grabbing him by the hair and yanking him to his feet. Janus, looking to finish, grabs Mike around the leg and the neck and lifts him up into a standing fireman’s carry, the crowd going nuts for the obvious Death Valley Driver setup! Janus, trying to keep steady, is forced to let fly early, driving Van Siclen’s skull into the mat a bit earlier than he normally would! Nonetheless, Janus only stops to shake his leg out before dropping down to make the cover.

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THRE – TWO COUNT!” Janus looks at the referee with a look that plainly says ‘you’ve-gotta-be-kidding-me’, but Soapdish simply points to Van Siclen’s shoulder, which is pretty obviously off the mat! The crowd erupts in boos for Van Siclen, but Janus ignores them, angrily hauling the champ to his feet!

 

“Van Siclen just BARELY gets out of the DVD! King, how the hell is he even standing at this point?”

 

“He loves his title, Axis, and he’ll do anything not to lose it!”

 

Janus lets out a mighty roar, and the crowd erupts as the big man grabs Van Siclen around the neck and lifts him up into a vertical Suplex position… but just like the first time they met in singles competition, Van Siclen uses the momentum and keeps going, flipping right over Janus’ shoulder and landing back-to-back with the big man! Janus, not expecting this, freezes for a split second, but that’s all Mike needs to take advantage as he levels a hard back kick right into the back of Janus’ leg! The big man falls to both knees, letting out a roar of pain before falling flat on his stomach! Van Siclen quickly takes advantage of this opportunity, rolling Janus over and hooking the leg!

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“TH – TWO COUNT!” Janus gets a shoulder up, and Mike, at this point as frustrated as the challenger, stands up, brushing the hair out of his face before lifting Janus to his feet.

 

“Janus looks for the Rage Unleashed, but just like the last time these two met Van Siclen flips out of it!”

 

“And Van Siclen very nearly scored a three-count on Janus! The big man better be thanking his lucky stars Van Siclen didn’t score three there!”

 

Van Siclen grabs Janus by the right leg, lifting it into the air and lashing out at it with a huge kick. Janus reaches out in pain for his leg, but instead of kicking it again he hits the mat, whipping Janus over with a hard Dragon Screw! The champ, on fire now, stands up quickly and extends his arms in a crucifix pose, drawing the huge ire of the Cleveland faithful! He turns around to see Janus staggering to his feet… and kicks him square in the right leg! The crowd erupts in boos as Mike turns around, shrugging in ‘what-did-I-do?’ fashion.

 

The crowd boos him even more, breaking into a “MI-KEY SUCKS!” chant, and Van Siclen relishes in it, making a motion around his waist that says “I’m the champion!” Van Siclen turns back around, facing Janus… who is already standing up and there to greet him with a forearm to the face! Van Siclen staggers back, and Janus follows him, catching him with another forearm to the face! Van Siclen staggers back further, leaning against the ropes, and Nick Soapdish gets in front of Janus before he can attack Mike any more.

 

“Van Siclen works the leg some more, but his showboating hurts him as Janus regains control of the momentum!”

 

“A forearm isn’t exactly a momentum change, Axis. Jeez.”

 

Janus does indeed back off of Van Siclen, albeit because Soapdish threatens to DQ him… but nonetheless. The ref moves, and Mike bounces off the ropes and dives at Janus… but the big man catches him in midair! Janus grunts… and then falls backwards, throwing Mike backwards with a Fallaway Slam! The challenger stands up, shaking out his right leg as he lifts Van Siclen to his feet, putting him into a side headlock! The crowd erupts as Janus hoists the champion up high, in vertical suplex position! The crowd, knowing what is to come, lets out a mighty roar!

 

“HE’S GOT VAN SICLEN! HE HAS MVS SET UP FOR THE RAGE UNLEASHED!”

 

“But the question, Axis, is will his leg hold?”

 

Janus turns Van Siclen around, maintaining the hold… and drops him down, sitting out with a picture-perfect Tombstone Piledriver!

 

“RAGE UNLEASHED! RAGE UNLEASHED! I guess his leg held, eh King?”

 

“…”

 

Janus, naturally, drops down to make the academic cover on Van Siclen…

 

“ONE!” Van Siclen, still dead, lay motionless as Janus presses down harder on his shoulders.

 

“TWO!” Van Siclen’s eyes flutter open, then shut again…

 

“THREE!”

 

“Yes! Chalk up three points for Janus!”

 

“Come on, Mike, don’t let him win…”

 

“FOUR!” Van Siclen’s eyes now open fully, and the champ realizes he’s in a deep hole…

 

“FIVE!” Needing only two more counts, Janus increases pressure on Van Siclen’s shoulder, as the champ lifts his legs high into the air…

 

“SIX!” …and tries to kick out, but Janus has too much force on the shoulders! Van Siclen musters all his strength, lifting his legs high for one final kickout attempt!

 

“SEVE – NO!” Van Siclen just manages to kick out, and Janus, angry that he couldn’t get more, stands up, grabbing Van Siclen by the hair and lifting him up too. The crowd, however, doesn’t seem to care that Janus didn’t win – they’re alive and roaring for Janus, starting a “NEW WORLD CHAMP!” chant. The scoreboard, too, reflects Janus’ six-count, changing over to read Janus 9, Mike 3.

 

“And Janus scores a SIX count via the Rage Unleashed, leaping ahead of Mike nine to three!”

 

“Yes, but Janus is wasted, Axis, and you can see it in his eyes! He’s put Van Siclen through so much with a bad knee – I don’t think he’s got much in the tank! It’s like they say – when you’re running on E you beg to be beat!”

 

“They don’t say that. And Van Siclen’s suffered just as much punishment as Janus – God knows how much ice he’ll need tonight.”

 

“But it’ll all be worth it, because he’ll be wearing the gold!”

 

Janus grabs Van Siclen by the arm, whipping him into the ropes. Janus bends over as Mike comes back, maybe looking for a Van Slaminator to humiliate MVS, maybe looking for a back body drop – but we’ll never know, as Mike, still out of it from the Rage Unleashed, falls over on the way back! Janus, not expecting this, walks over to Van Siclen and picks him up, again whipping the champ into the ropes, looking for the clothesline… but Van Siclen clumsily ducks underneath it! Janus turns around… right into a clumsy sidekick from Van Siclen! Both men fall over, and then slowly start to get up, Van Siclen shaking his head and trying to get the cobwebs out.

 

“Van Siclen looks out of it from that Rage Unleashed, King! He’s going to have to shake off the side effects if he wants to win this match!”

 

“He will, Axis. He will.

 

Van Siclen stands up first, seemingly back in the game, and goes to the ropes, bouncing off and looking for something on Janus… but the big man grabs him by the stomach with both hands and lifts him high, up, into the air! The champ, looking terrified, hopes for some twist of fate… and as Janus lifts Mike higher, all of the leg work comes rushing back, all of the crabs and drop toe holds, they all hit him…

 

And his right knee buckles! Janus falls to one knee, letting go of his hold on Van Siclen and allowing the Spectacular one to slide out of Janus’ grip! The champion smiles as he knees Janus in the gut, causing him to double over as he stands up. Van Siclen grabs him by the long, white hair and shoves his head between his legs, putting Janus into a standing headscissors! The crowd erupts in boos as Van Siclen grabs Janus around the waist, lifting him up into position for a Styles Clash, so that Janus’ entire stomach is exposed! Struggling to keep the big man up, Van Siclen steps forward, over Janus’ arms, and then…

 

WHAM!

 

Drops to his knees, impacting Janus’ head on the mat with a brutal Riot Act! The crowd lashes out verbally at Van Siclen but the champ doesn’t care as he rolls Janus onto his back and makes the cover…

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THREE!”

 

“FOUR!”

 

“FIV – FOUR!” Janus gets the shoulder up, somehow, at four, and the champion can’t believe it as he stares at referee Soapdish, but Nick just shrugs his arms, as if to say “I can’t help it.” The Smarktron, meanwhile, changes to reflect Van Siclen’s four points, now reading Janus 9, Mike 7.

 

“Van Siclen gets the Riot Act on Janus, but it only gets four!”

 

“But Mike is three counts away from walking out of here still champion!”

 

“And so is Janus, King!”

 

Very nearly out of it, Van Siclen grabs Janus by the arm and lifts him to his feet, kneeing him in the gut again so that he doubles over. Van Siclen grabs both of Janus’ arms and crosses them in front of his face, so that they make an X across his neck. Mike, using all he can muster strength-wise, lifts Janus up, flipping him up so that his head faces straight down with the arms still crossed… but at that, all the strength Van Siclen has disappears, and he is forced to drop Janus there, with a not-quite-full-impact Riot Act II!

 

“Van Siclen with the modified Riot Act II! I haven’t seen that move in ages!”

 

“But Van Siclen picked the right time to use it! Janus is deader than dead right now!”

 

With almost nothing left, Van Siclen crawls over to Janus, draping his entire body over him to make the cover. The crowd roars in boos with every count…

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“T

H

R

E

E…

!” The Smarktron’s scoreboard changes once again, this time changing so it reads Janus 9, Mike 10. Van Siclen rolls off of the big man, doing nothing but breathe on the canvas as Nick Soapdish signals for the bell.

 

-=: Ding Ding Ding :=-

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, and STILL the SJL Heavyweight Champion! MIIIIIIIIIKE VA-AN SIIIIIIIIC-LEEEEEEEN!”

 

The crowd, already angrier than a swarm of hornets, absolutely tears Van Siclen to pieces with their sounds, but Mike can’t even really hear them, as he lies, half-conscious, on the mat. A ring attendant hands Nick Soapdish the belt, and Soapdish drapes it over Van Siclen’s body, raising his hand in victory as we…

 

Fade to black…

[Guest Death by Numbers]

Well, I still thought I had a slightly better match..ehh

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

"Headstrong" by Trapt hits the house speakers and David Blazenwing comes out to a huge pop. He tosses his hands in the air, and then drops them, igniting the stage in a wild flurry of pyro. He slides into the ring on his stomach, and then hits all four turnbuckles for another pop each time.

 

Funyon: The following is a four corners, no disqualification match and is schedule for one fall. Coming in first weighing in at 250 pounds, David Blazenwing.

 

David gets off the last turnbuckle and waits for his opponents, all of a sudden the lights dim, slowly fading completely out. The camera catches the audience, it also catches red spotlights moving across the crowd as ‘Set it off’ by POD hits and Geddeon walks out from the back. David just sits on the far left hand corner as Geddeon makes his way down the ramp, he slides in and just stares at David. The ref does his best to separate the two combatants so that the rest of the competition comes out.

 

King: You know, these tournament matches have been good so far, and it’s going to get more exciting.

 

Axis: You should really pay attention to these kids right here…they are the future of our business.

 

King: Oh thank god, I thought you were going to sing.

 

Funyon: And his opponent, weighing in at 235 pounds, Geddeon!

 

Terry Wayne slowly and silently walks down the aisle, peering menacingly at the lowlifes in the stands. Comes down the cover of the Nine Inch Nails song "Hurt" by Johnny Cash. A grainy, black and white video snake eating a rabbit is shown on the Smarktron.

 

Funyon: And their opponent, weighing in at 230 pounds ‘The Dark Rebel’ Terry Wayne!

 

King: I love seeing that video it’s such a masterpiece about human nature.

 

Axis: And what’s that?

 

King: Survival of the Fittest, only the strong survive.

 

Wayne slides in the ring and looks at both David and Geddeon. A cloud of smoke emerges around the area coming from the smoke starters by the side of the entryway. The illumination from the top changes colors from black to dark blue as two lightning bolts comes from the ceiling and hits the bottom part of the Tron, causing it to start as a figure emerge on the screen. No face, just a black hooded clothing material covering the figures head. Now the smoke is covering the entranceway not letting any camera angle take view of anything around that area. The Tron shows ‘Death’, but it slowly dissolves into a two words. “Quiet Death”. All of a sudden, a beat starts hitting the amps, slowly hitting people’s ears as the smoke slowly dissolves from the area.

 

Funyon: And their opponent, making his in-ring debut, weighing in at 221 pounds, Quiet Death!

 

 

“Thou shall not fall…”

 

“Thou shall not fly…”

 

“Thou shall not fear…”

 

“Thou shall not live…”

 

The chorus of “Thou shall not cry” by Bauhaus hits the loudspeakers as the cloud clears up, showing an image of a male’s body, head tilted down to the floor. Drips of water mixed with sweats coming off his baldhead. The person known as ‘Quiet Death’ slowly lifts his head up as he breathes hard. He slowly makes his way down the ramp, the lights that they put by the edge of the ramp lights up with the color red on right side and the color black on the left side. Every step that ‘Quiet Death’ takes, the Tron shows an image of a rope formatted in a way of a hanging, a lethal injection, and a gun. He reaches the ring and slides in, ‘Death’ makes his way to the middle of the ring and stands there, by this time, the Tron images changes back to the person with the black hooded clothing over his head and faceless. ‘Quiet Death’ has his head down in the ring, and when he raised it, the image of ‘Death’ in the Tron removes the hoodie from his head displaying the face of…“Quiet Death”. The lights slowly turn back to the way they were as ‘Quiet Death’ goes towards the corner and waits for the bell to ring.

 

Axis: Ok, this guy scares me.

 

King: But his entrance rocks, the smoke, the song, everything. I like him already, although I like most of the people in the ring, especially Terry Wayne. This is going to be a good match and I want to see who will shine above the rest.

 

David, Death, Wayne and Geddeon all stand on their neutral corner, the referee still stand in the middle of the ring. The referee looks towards the left to where the announce table is located as well as the bell ringer and signals for the bell.

 

Ding, Ding, Ding.

 

All for competitors are looking at each other, wondering and strategizing of how to start with this match as they continue to be stationed at their corner. Geddeon makes the first move as he runs towards Death, Wayne sees Geddeon making the first move on Death he decided to make his move on David. Death sees Geddeon running to him as he quickly squares off to face him and defend any attempt of physical harm. Geddeon quickly throws a right hand that was partially blocked and side step by Death but Geddeon throws a straight left hand, but the results was the same. Another straight right and left hands that also ended up with the same results. Geddeon quickly tries to surprise him with a long right hook, but Death bends backward, grabbing the second ropes right by the corner causing Geddeon to miss. Geddeon then tries to trip him by sweeping the legs of Death from under, but Death pulls himself up, flips so that he sits right on top of the turnbuckle. Geddeon looks up but right as he gets a glimpse of the dark eyes of Death, a kick right to the side of the head causes Geddeon to stumble back.

 

Meanwhile, Wayne is beating David right at the corner with stiff right hands. Wayne now starts to kick David in the gut making David crouch down in pain, he slides down the turnbuckle while being kick and Wayne isn’t showing any sign of stopping or even slowing down. After about ten straight shots of size 11 to David’s gut Wayne grabs David by his hair and lifts him to his feet, toying with him by slapping David in the face as he grins. Wayne then pulls him out of the corner while still grabbing his hair. He takes a step back then kicks David in the gut causing him to doubles over. The camera angle shows Wayne with a big smile as he pulls David into a standard standing headscissors position and starts to look at the crowd as if he’s going for his finishing maneuver already that he calls the “The Fatal Flaw”. Although the attempt wasn’t even tried as David squirms himself out of the predicament he was in as he falls back to his BUTT and looks at Wayne with amazement and anger. Wayne smiles at him and then points to his head in a form of saying that Wayne is highly more intelligent that David.

 

Axis: Seeing these four competitors and how they use their abilities and how they get out of sticky situations, they impress me.

 

King: It’s only been 2 minutes into the match, how can they impress you so quickly? Wait, you’re Australian. I see.

 

Axis: What’s that suppose to mean?

 

King: (King looks at Axis for a second before saying) Exactly.

 

After the kick to the side of the head Death gets off of the turnbuckle and begins to stalk Geddeon as he is recovering pretty quickly from that shot. Death waits for Geddeon to turn around and once he does, Death goes for a spinning heel kick, but Geddeon saw that coming as he ducks over the leg and gets behind Death. He quickly applies a waist lock and lifts him up and over his head in an attempt of a German suplex, although as Death was up in the air, he tilt his head and back a bit more causing him to flip even more. He lands on his feet and quickly takes Geddeon down with a spinning leg trip kick, Geddeon lands on his back while Death gets back to his feet quickly. Death then turns around and flips backward hitting a standing Moonsault and lies on top of him for a pinning attempt. The referee sees this and quickly goes to them as he slides right next towards Geddeon’s arms.

 

As the referee pounds the mat he screams: ONE, TWO! Geddeon easily kicks out.

 

After a bit of a stare down between David and Wayne, David tries to get any kind of advantage and runs towards Wayne. The smile of Wayne quickly faded as his serious side came and swings a right arm clothesline shot, but it was missed as David continue to run towards the ropes, his back makes contact of the rope, propelling himself back and launching himself up in the air taking Wayne out with a flying clothesline. After being knocked down, Wayne gets right back up only to get connected with a right hand that dazed him for a second, and right before he gets his composure, he gets hit with a left hand. Now he steps back, hearing the crowd get behind him as he make his boxing stands, snaps a right jab, another right jab that snaps Wayne’s head back. The second jab caused Wayne to start bleeding from his nose as David takes a step back, looks at his left hand, looks up and the swings a left hook right towards Wayne’s head, but Wayne sees it coming as he ducks it and goes behind David while having his right arm around David’s waist. Once Wayne completely gets behind him, he wraps the left hand around David’s waist and linking them to each other into a waist lock, Wayne then lifts David up and over driving him hard down with a German Suplex.

 

King: I know if this were an elimination match, the last two remaining would be Quiet Death and Terry Wayne. These two have shown me skills and charisma that a lot of people that made it, don’t have.

 

Axis: Yeah, like who?

 

King: Now I know you don’t want me to answer that question. (King said as he smiles at Axis)

 

Wayne does not even make a cover instead he quickly goes to his side and goes through the ropes landing on the floor. He lifts the apron up from the floor and reaches in, seeking any type of weapon as the crowd commences to chant the word “Tables, Tables, Tables”. He grabs what he was seeking as he pulls out a steep pipe. He looks at it with fascination for a second before sliding in the ring with the pipe.

 

After the two count Death climbs out of the ring and he searches under the ring looking for a weapon, which also cause the crowd to begin a chant of “TABLES, TABLES, TABLES”, although just like Wayne, he comes out with a steel pipe, doesn’t show much emotion as he slides in the ring with the pipe.

 

Axis: What, under the ring is filled with steel pipes now? What ever happen to the standard tables, ladders and chairs?

 

King: Oh my. (King chuckled after saying that)

 

Axis looks at King for a long minute before saying: Don’t do that.

 

Both Death and Wayne are about to strike their fallen contender when they noticed each other, both supporting a weapon around their hands in attack formation. Wayne starts to smile a bit while Death continues to show no kind of expression, they get closer to each other with the pipes still clutched tight in their hands. They are about 3 feet from each other since they left the people they were battling into this one on one confrontation with weapons.

 

King: You know we haven’t had a pipe battle for a long time…it’s about time we got one going.

 

…Then they swing, over the top Wayne attempted as it was blocked easily by Death, the quiet one tries to hit Wayne with a side shot but Wayne, not a craftsmanship in fencing, still had the sense to block that. Wayne then swings a wild right swing to the head, but Death does a split, which made contact of Wayne’s legs causing him to unwillingly do a split as well. Since Death had his pipe by his own face, but away from it, the pipe made contact with Wayne’s chin as he gets double the pain.

 

Axis: Ok…wow, now that’s unique.

 

Death gets up and noticed that Wayne dropped the pipe that he was using, he grabs it with his left hand and now he has two pipes, holding each in each hand. Death now gets to his feet, twirling each pipe around as he waits for Wayne to get to his feet. Wayne finally sits himself up as Death sets himself for an attack, he takes a step back and swings the right handed pipe to the chest quickly following with the other pipe that was clutched in the left hand. Death once again takes a step back then steps’ forward swinging with the right pipe first then follows with the left pipe right to Wayne’s chest. Death now takes 2 steps back closing his eyes as he prepares to take Wayne down and out with a lethal pipe shot. Once Death takes a step forward for the pipe shot, he gets clothesline from behind by Geddeon. David is now up and sees Geddeon going after Death, he then runs towards Geddeon and as Geddeon turns to face David, he gets knocked down and basically out with a ferocious big boot. Saliva flew out of Geddeon’s mouth as he crumbles to the mat. David quickly glance at the referee in a way of telling him to get ready to count as he gets down on top of Geddeon and reaches for the far leg, hooking it. The referee goes towards them and gets down on his stomach, he begins to smash the mat with authority, he screams the numbers out as well.

 

Referee: ONE!!! TWO!!!

 

No, Death who was right beside them just turned around and hits David on the back breaking the count.

 

King: Now we’re getting closer to the end, and I really hope this guy wins.

 

 

David looks up at Death and sees the soulless eyes of Death, they are now both on their knees and they start to swing at each other. Apparently the fists these two have aren’t doing much effect at each other as they continue to swing with tenacity. Wayne and Geddeon start to get up as they both locate themselves about 3 feet away from the kneeling action of Death and David. They look at one another for a second before communicating in hands movement. Wayne and Geddeon evidently came into agreement by nodding at one another. Geddeon and Wayne makes movement towards Death and David, but before Geddeon can make any kind of attack, Wayne twirls him around and sees the look of astonishment on Geddeon’s face as Wayne kicks him in the gut causing him to double over and get himself in a front face lock that Wayne applies. Wayne then drops down on the mat planting Geddeon with a DDT, Wayne gets up and smiles away as he points to his head once again showing his intelligence.

 

King: I like that guy cause he has charisma and intelligence. He reminds me of a former great in the WF. (Turns towards Axis) I think you know whom I’m talking about.

 

Axis: I would say my self, but I know you. So, I would say Edwin the Mac Daddy MacPhisto.

 

King: You got some nerves saying that name in front of me. I spit at the name, (King spits at the table) see?

 

Axis: (Axis just stares at him) Dude you just spit at YOUR table.

 

King: I know.

 

Wayne lifts Geddeon up to his feet and quickly places him into a standing head scissor position while looking at the crowd with a huge grin on his face. He wraps both his arms around his waist clinging his hands together. He tries to lift him up off his feet but Geddeon begins to kick away at the air hoping the leverage can help him get back to his feet on the solid mat. Once his feet touch the mat, he lifts him head up causing Wayne to go off his back with a back body drop counter. Geddeon stumbles back towards the ropes as Wayne, surprised by what just happen, quickly gets to his feet. Filled with rage he runs towards David, but once he reaches him, he gets kick in the chest just stopping him right on his tracks. Geddeon then bear hug Wayne and took him over the top rope with a belly to belly over the head suplex. Wayne crashes on the floor hard and with a loud thud. The crowd starts to chant the ever so popular “Holy shit, Holy shit, Holy shit”. Once Geddeon got to his feet, he goes through the ropes and stood on the apron, he turns around so that he’s facing inside of the ring, he has grasp of the top rope and takes a looks back, he sees Wayne slowly getting up but is already on one knee.

 

Still in the ring, the slugfest continues as they are still on their knees. Death then pokes David in the eye stopping the fight momentarily. David puts his hands by his face in reaction and that’s when Death hops to his and kicks David right on the side of his head knocking him out. The crowd starts clapping with appreciation of his agility and his kicks.

 

Axis: People might find him really good, but I’m not going to be in the middle of one of those kicks. Did you see the speed of those kicks? Wow, they can knock a person out for a long time.

 

King: You know, there’s something about Death that I just cant put my finger on. I don’t know if I should like him or despise him. Talent, he has. Kicks, brutal…but as a person, I don’t know.

 

Death doesn’t pose much as he quickly gets down, turns David to his back and then covers him. The referee slides towards them making half his body outside of the ring and the other half in. He begins to pound the mat while screaming the numbers.

 

Referee: ONE!!! TWO!!! THR!!!

 

No! The referee noticed David’s leg on top of the bottom rope right on the last second.

 

Wayne is now staggering back to his feet and looks up. Geddeon now hops to the second ropes flipping backward with a Moonsault taking Wayne out and also himself. Death quickly turns David to his stomach then applies a reverse face lock and grabs the left arm into completing the “Dragon’s Death”. Stretching the neck of David as he screams in pain, the muscles of David’s ribs being stretched out as well. Geddeon is up now and he looks in the ring, he sees Death having David in trouble and is about to win the match. Geddeon quickly slides in the ring and runs towards Death kicking him right in the face with a front dropkick. Death lets go of the hold, feeling a little pain for the first time in the match as he gets knocked down back. On the outside, Wayne is getting back to his feet, still a little stunned by the offence Geddeon unleashed on him. Geddeon grabs Death by the head and helps him to get to his feet, Wayne walks towards the announce table and threw Funyon to the ground.

 

King: Such a violent nature, I love it. This is my kind of guy.

 

Wayne grabs the chair and folds it then quickly looks in the ring. Geddeon quickly puts a front face lock on Death. He grabs the right arm of Death and puts it over his shoulder, he reaches down and grabs the left leg of Death and hooks it. Wayne slides in with the chair and sees Geddeon lifting Death up in a fisherman’s suplex position. Geddeon stated spinning around, once he gets about 180 degrees around, he witnessed a chair crashing right on his head. Geddeon drops Death caused by the shot on his head, he also gets knocked down. Wayne now sets the chair down flat on the mat. He grabs Geddeon and places him in a standing head scissor position. He wraps his arms around Geddeon’s waist and lifts him up, he walks back while looking down on the mat to see where the chair is located, once he gets precisely under the chair, Wayne drops to his knees hitting “The Fatal Flaw” right on top of the chair.

 

King: I really hope is over now because I would really love this guy to win.

 

Axis: Control yourself.

 

Wayne begins to get up not noticing David who is already on his feet. David positioned himself right behind Wayne, when Wayne was about to turn around he gets locked in the “Davemission”. The crowd starts to get up to see if this is the final part of the show. Wayne tries to get out of the lock, he tries to fight it out, but the lock is just too severe. Slowly Death starts to get up noticing the dilemma Wayne got himself into. The referee sees Wayne and his eyes begin glossy, he slowly closes his eyes as David told the referee to check him. The referee grabs the arm of Wayne and lifts it up in the air…he lets it drop.

 

Referee: ONE!!!

 

He grabs the arm again and then lets it drop.

 

Referee: TWO!!!

 

Death is up to his feet and is right behind David, Death takes a step back, lunges forward and hits David with a standing side kick right in the back of his neck. David lets go of his Davemission and quickly grabs the back of his neck. Wayne just drops to the mat and before David can turn around, Death quickly applies an inverted face lock and walks forward causing David’s back to bend awkwardly back. Death gets over David’s back and then sits on top of it, he quickly grabs the arm of David to complete the “Dragon’s Death”.

 

Death continues to stretch David’s neck out, Wayne and Geddeon starts to awaken and sees David in trouble. They slowly get up and are about to hit Death to stop the lock. They are about two feet away from stopping Death, but David couldn’t support the pain any longer and begins to pound the mat tapping from the submission. Death lets go of the hold and looks down at David and then he looks straight ahead at Wayne and Geddeon. Doesn’t say anything as he just walks towards the ropes, goes through the ropes and starts walking up the ramp.

 

Funyon: The winner of this match via submission. QUIET DEATH!!!

 

“Thou shall not cry” by Bauhaus hits as Death leaves the area.

 

Axis: You would think that someone who just one their very first match would celebrate, but Death just walked out, not saying a word nor showing any emotion.

 

King: That’s why there’s something about him that I do and don’t like. I just cant put my finger on it.

 

Axis: One thing we know for sure, he’s talented.

 

King: Well, stay tune for the next match…the guy that was trained by the loser Mark Stevens, Aaron Carpenter vs. Aecas. It should be good.

 

Axis: Should be, stay tune.

 

King: I don’t like the death guy

 

Fades away

[Guest The Last Free Voice]

I am an idiot. I missread the due date and thought it was due sunday! ARRGH! I didn't even finish. No real time. Oh well.