SJL Wrath, March 9th, 2003!

March 10, 2003

SJL WRATH CARD

Location: The Staples Center in Los Angeles, California

Due Date: Sunday, March 9, 2003, @ 5 PM EST - NO EXTENSIONS!

Send Promos and Marked Matches To: realitycheck

Opening Promo: Va'aiga

NEWBIE MATCH

"Picture Perfect" Aaron Carpenter vs. John Duran

Description: John Duran, friend of late SJL performer Randy Turner, makes his debut here to kick off Wrath. We'll see how he does here against ambitious newcomer Aaron Carpenter.

Rules: Standard singles match. Regular DQ and countout rules apply.

DRUNK OFF YOUR ASS MATCH

Aecas vs. Quiet Death vs. "Dark Rebel" Terry Wayne vs. Tryst

Description: Thanks to Sydney Sky for another great idea for my regular Crazy Ass Stip Match. These four are all relatively new, and could use the ranking boost that winning a four-way match would provide. However, it will be challenging as they'll all have to wrestle DRUNK OFF THEIR ASSES!

Rules: This is an elimination match. One man starts at each corner. At start of match, and every two minutes afterward, all competitors have a thirty second break in which they must chug down vodka poured through a funnel attached to the turnbuckle. If a competitor fails to do this, he is eliminated. If a competitor is pinned or submits, he is eliminated. If a competitor can no longer stand due to intoxication, he is eliminated if he fails to get up after a ten count. Regular DQ and countout rules are not in effect.

SJL TELEVISION TITLE - #1 CONTENDERSHIP

Fosta vs. David Blazenwing

Description: Both these guys have proven to be assets to the TV division in recent weeks, and Fosta was one match away from winning the title. Fosta gets a second crack at it if he can defeat Blazenwing. Any one of them could be the next challenger, so this should be a must see matchup.

Rules: Standard singles match. Regular DQ and countout rules apply.

SJL TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP

Omega Storm © vs. Geddion

Description: Omega Storm got through three tournament matches to become the first TV champion in seven months. Unfortunately for Storm, we at JLCC have instituted a new policy with the TV title, effective immediately - the TV champion will be defending the title at EVERY SHOW! Yes, the TV champion will most certainly be a fighting champion. Storm's first challenger is Geddion, who looked good on Metal with his win over David Blazenwing.

Rules: Standard singles match. Regular DQ and countout rules apply.

TRIPLE THREAT NO-DQ MIDCARD FILLER MATCH

Christian Blackwell vs. Matt Myers vs. Thor

Description: Yeah, you all should know by now that every Wrath I book seems to have one of these Midcard Filler matches. Any one of these guys has the ability to move up in the world, so put on a good showing here, guys. To make things a little more interesting... let's make this one no DQ.

Rules: Triple threat match. First pinfall or submission wins the match. DQ and countout rules are not in effect.

SJL EUROPEAN CHAMPIONSHIP

Sean Atlas © vs. Manson

Description: Atlas hasn't defended that title in -- well, at least one show, for sure. Manson has returned to the fold and seems interested in pursuing the World title. However, there are a lot of guys gunning for that title right now, so for the time being, we'll give Manson a Euro shot, and then see how he does in the coming weeks.

Rules: Standard singles match. Regular DQ and countout rules apply.

SJL WORLD TITLE - #1 CONTENDERSHIP

Spike Jenkins vs. Va'aiga

Description: Spike thought by winning the gauntlet match on Metal that he would earn a title shot against Janus? Well, JLCC has decided otherwise. There are too many guys gunning for the title right now to grant Spike a shot just yet. However, we here at JLCC are merciful folks. Spike will get a #1 contender's match instead--but he'll have a challenge ahead in the Badass Maori, Va'aiga, who's been looking for just such an opportunity.

Rules: Standard singles match. Regular DQ and countout rules apply.

SJL WORLD TITLE - #1 CONTENDERSHIP

Crow vs. Dace Night

Description: Oh, look, two contendership matches! Wonder what that means. Anyway, Crow has been impressing for a long time and certainly deserves to get into the title picture. Dace Night returns from a brief absence, and I'm sure he'd also like another crack at the big gold belt. They both get their chance here at Wrath.

Rules: Standard singles match. Regular DQ and countout rules apply.

SJL WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP

CAGED FURY MATCH

Janus © vs. Mike Van Siclen

Description: Mike Van Siclen lost the World title to Janus, and you've got to believe he's really freakin' pissed. Mike asked JLCC to let him cash in his free rematch clause, and CC was only too happy to oblige. Will Mike have an advantage in his requested stipulation match? Will Janus survive his first defense? All this and more on Wrath!

Rules: Steel cage match with the following rules: No door is provided for exiting the cage. Competitors may leave the cage over the top, but may not win the match this way. No DQ or countout in effect, but competitors can only win the match by submission.

March 10, 2003

Axis: Welcome everyone to SJL Wrath, coming here tonight from the Staples Center, here in the City of Angels, good old Los Angeles, California.

Suicide King: I love LA. And LA loves Suicide King. Come to think of it EVERYBODY loves Suicide King. And why shouldn’t they?

The camera pans round the crowd picking out signs including “SPIKE SUCKS”, a picture of Dace Night over a British Flag, “I HEART MVS”, “BLEED CROW BLEED!” and finally stops for a brief second among the super hot and very loud Staples Center crowd on a sign reading “TURN UP… KICK ASS!” And on that cue… You Know What Time It Be…. “Strike It” by Dub War fires up and Va’aiga walks into the entranceway.

Axis: And we’ve got a hot start tonight with the Maori Badass. I wonder what Va’aiga has to say to us tonight, King?

Suicide King: Nothing of importance. Still if it’s longer than “Booya”, he’s got more intelligence than I had thought.

Va’aiga soaks up the cheers and admiration of the crowd, and they respond with a massive arena wide “VAY-IN-GUH!” chant. Va’aiga slaps hands with members of the crowd on the way down to the ring and slides in just in time to drop the Maori hand sign for the break in the line “STRIKE IT!... when iron is hot” though no pyro fires off, with it being saved for his match. Va’aiga grins broadly, smiling with his laid back manner reserved for his good moods. Va’aiga calls for a mic to be thrown up to him, and a ring assistant lobs one into the room and the big Maori catches it one handed and holds an arm up to get the crowd to lower the level of noise, allowing him to address both them and the viewing public.

Va’aiga: Los Angeles. Looks tonight like the Staples Center is MY HOUSE!

Va’aiga shouts to emphasize the last statement and the crowd cheers wildly for the Maori Badass.

Va’aiga: Now tonight, I know you all be here for MVS and Janus, right, and the world title. But I hope you all know that there’s a pair of fun little matches going down for the #1 contendership. One of them sees that Bad Man Dace Night…

And the crowd pops at the mention of Dace’s name…

Va’aiga: And he up against that blood letting freak Crow….

The crowd boos…

Va’aiga: Now I got nothing against either of those guys, so I’m gonna be interested who wins that. And for the record, I’m gonna be interested who wins Van Siclen and big old Janus too. But there’s one other match that I care a lot about. That pits the guy who’s driving down YOUR real estate prices, the guy who sneaked a pin on me last week, the guy who’s getting his ass kicked to-damn-night, Hollywood Spike Jenkins.

The crowd boos at the mention of Spike.

Suicide King: These idiots know nothing. Spike Jenkins is the King of the World. They should respect that.

Va’aiga: Against the baddest, the most brutal, and the most riled up ass kicking machine in this whole damn league… ME!

Va’aiga snarls as he delviers the end of the line and points proudly at himself. The crowd cheers again.

Va’aiga : Now Spike, I KNOW you be listening backstage to this Badass Maori, so let me tell a little something like it is, and like it’s gonna be. See last week you inched, you sneaked, you god damn CHEATED a pin out of me. Now that shows that you got guts, boy, you got guts. Cuz not many got the guts to put this Maori in a bad mood. Spike you about to realize why messing with this Badass puts your insurance in the high risk bracket. See Spike, I’m the Maitre D at the Violence Restaurant, and last week you just sat down and ordered yourself a big plate of whoop ass, and it’s my god damn pleasure to serve it all up TONIGHT.

Axis: Va’aiga not mixing his words King.

Suicide King: Just his metaphors.

Va’aiga: Now out here now, with all you good people I’m cool. And with most of the guys in the back I’m cool, but Spike, Spike, you pissed me off. And by your actions last week, you’ve asked for the bad side of this bad man. So when I come out that dressing room, walk down to the ring, stick my fist down your throat, rip your guts out and choke you down with your lower damn intestine, don’t go crying to people, know that you deserved every last bit of it. See I live by a simple creed, and you’re about to feel the sharp end of it. Cuz tonight you get to see up close and personal when I turn up….

And Va’aiga raises the mic above his head to let the crowd finish the end of the sentence…

Crowd: KICK ASS!

Va’aiga’s music fires up again as the Maori Badass walks out of the ring and back to his dressing room to prepare for his match.

Axis: It’s gonna be a wild evening tonight King, and from the sounds of it Va’aiga is in the mood to keep it as wild as possible.

Suicide King: I DID get the point of the interview Axis. It was a little hard to miss.

March 10, 2003

Axis: We're here in Los Angeles, California for Wrath in the Staples Center, and King, moving along with the card tonight, I must say, this first match intrigues me.

King: Why, does it involve me?

Axis: Not unless you're planning to fight me, King, no. This match is between two newcomers to the SJL in "Picture Perfect" Aaron Carpenter and John Duran.

King: Duran, Duran...isn't that the dead guy’s friend?

Axis: Yes, King, Duran is a long-time friend of former SJL wrestler Randy Turner. However, John has seemed to taken a negative stance towards those in the SJL, and I think he's looking to do a little damage while honoring the reputation, though short-lived as it may be, of Randy Turner.

King: Did you know that I'm hungry like the wolf?

Axis: ...What?

King: You know, Duran Duran! "Hungry Like The Wolf"? No? Nothing?

Axis: Please stop.

King: You're just jealous because I know my 80s music.

Axis: Let's just go to Funyon for the introductions.

Funyon: This opening match is scheduled for one fall....

(Drowning Pool's "Sinner" plays as John Duran comes out, intensely staring at the crowd as they boo him, grimacing in anger as he walks down towards the ring.)

Funyon: Coming down to the ring, from Champaign, Illinois, weighing in at 265 pounds...John Duran!

(Duran gets up on the apron and enters the ring, going to the center of the ring and raising his arms, anger and hate apparent in his eyes, before going to the corner and awaiting his opponent.)

Funyon: And his opponent...

"Pictures in the mi-i-ir-or..."

BOOM!

(Green pyrotechnics shoot down from the rafters to the entrance ramp as "Pictures In The Mirror", by The Living End, starts to play.)

Funyon: From Washington, D.C., weighing in at 238 pounds...Aaron Carpenter!

(Once the pyro subsides, Aaron comes sprinting down the ramp, quickly slapping hands with the fans before sliding into the ring. He rolls to his feet and walks to the nearest turnbuckle, climbs to the top of it, and raises both hands to the crowd before hopping back off and stretching on the ropes.)

Axis: Aaron Carpenter seems to be gaining a fair amount of support after his debut on Metal in that triple threat match.

King: Eh, my money's on this Duran guy. I think he hates the world, which gives him a big plus in my book.

*DING DING DING*

Axis: And we're underway!

(As both men come towards the center of the ring, Duran pauses and raises his arm, calling for a test of strength.)

Axis: Looks like Duran is trying to slow down "Picture Perfect", who is somewhat known for his speed, unlike Duran.

(Carpenter looks around at the crowd and raises his arm tentatively, slowly bringing it up and meeting it with Duran's hand, but that's all that Duran needs, as Duran hauls up and gives Carpenter a hard knee to the midsection.)

King: Duran is playing rough! This is great!

Axis: What a cheap shot by Duran!

King: I love it!

(Duran clubs Carpenter in the back, sending Aaron down to one knee, at which point Duran sets Aaron up straight and whips him into the ropes.)

Axis: Carpenter into the ropes...

(Duran goes for a forearm smash, but Aaron ducks it, bouncing off the other side, but John charges Aaron and almost beheads him with a vicious clothesline.)

Axis: Ouch! Duran has definitely set the tone for this match, as that clothesline was DEAFENING!

King: That's what that punk gets!

(Duran laughs at his fallen opponent, and then turns around and raises his arm, taunting the crowd.)

Axis: Duran might want to pay attention to his opponent, and not to this Los Angeles crowd...

(The crowd boos him as Aaron slowly gets behind Duran and rolls him up from behind!)

Axis: Aaron rolls up Duran!

ONE...

TWO-KICKOUT!

King: Come on Duran, enough of that, let's kick some ass now!

Axis: Close call for Duran there.

(Duran quickly gets to his feet, staring at Carpenter, who is already to his feet. Duran doesn't get much time on his feet, however, as Aaron runs up and plants John with a dropkick.)

Axis: Down goes Duran!

(Duran gets back up to his feet again, but Aaron drops him again with another dropkick.)

Axis: Again!

(Duran is back up again, and Aaron goes for a third one, but Duran dodges it and as Aaron gets up, Duran runs up and spears Aaron, picking him up and driving him hard into the turnbuckle, as Aaron's head is snapped back by the impact.)

Axis: Ouch! Duran is beating Aaron like a rag doll!

King: He isn't looking so "Perfect" now! Ha!

(Duran releases Carpenter, but quickly goes to nailing "Picture Perfect" in the body with punches. The crowd boos as Duran gets in shot after shot on Aaron as he winces in pain.)

King: Duran is going to town on Carpenter! This is great!

(Duran finally ends the punches, and goes to Irish whip Carpenter to the opposite corner. Duran charges Aaron and goes for a forearm smash, but Carpenter ducks out of the way at the last second, sending Duran crashing into the turnbuckle. Duran stumbles backwards, as Carpenter bounces off the ropes and grabs Duran's head, swinging it around for a swinging neckbreaker. Carpenter quickly goes for a pin on Duran.)

ONE...

TWO...

KICKOUT!

Axis: Duran kicks out, but the tables have turned in Carpenter's favor!

King: Well DUH.

(Carpenter grabs Duran and whips him into the ropes, and as Duran comes back, Aaron gets some hang time and knocks Duran off his feet with a "Picture Perfect" leg lariat. Carpenter gets to his feet, and drags Duran up as well. Carpenter locks his arm around Duran's neck...)

Axis: Could it be...?

(...And the bottom drops out on both combatants as Aaron hits the Picture This.)

Axis: Yes! That's has to be it!

(Aaron rolls over and crawls up, pinning Duran.)

ONE...

TWO...

TH--KICKOUT!

(Carpenter doesn't get frustrated by this oh-so-close two count, and instead stays calm, pondering his next move before going to the apron.)

Axis: Well folks, we've seen Aaron bust out the Picture This...is it time to Picture That?

King: No way, Duran has everything under control!

(Aaron awaits John to get to his feet, and as Duran slowly stands up, Aaron leaps onto the top rope and springboards off it, flying towards Duran. Duran gets to his senses, though, and wraps his arms around Aaron, stopping Carpenter's momentum in its TRACKS. Duran then lifts up Aaron and goes down with him, delivering one hell of a spinebuster that shakes the ring.)

King: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Carpenter got smashed like a bug!

Axis: But why isn't Duran covering?

(Instead of covering Carpenter, Duran picks Aaron up, and with Aaron's back to John, John lifts up Aaron and slams him down with a side slam. John hooks the leg for the pin.)

ONE...

TWO...

THRE---KICKOUT!

(The anger is flowing through John at this point, as John grabs Aaron again and brings him up to his feet, before sending him back down with a vicious head BUTT. Aaron follows to the ground and John quickly follows his head BUTT with a legdrop, Duran's leg coming across Carpenter's "Picture Perfect" face, as Duran goes for the cover again.)

ONE...

TWO...

THRE---NO!

Axis: There is no sign of quit from Aaron Carpenter, even as he's receiving this beating from Duran!

(John begins to get frustrated, as he picks up Aaron once again, and it seems that this time, he's signaling for the kill. He locks John in a full nelson, and it looks like he's going up for a full nelson bomb, but Aaron blocks it in the most effective way...with a nice swift kick to the groin. Duran falls to the ground, as the crowd cheers, while the ref, oblivious to the move that just took place, continues on with the match.)

King: Blatant cheating from the Carpenter! Whose side is he on?

Axis: King, seriously, when was the last time you saw someone get disqualified for giving a low blow?

(Duran rolls around in pain, as Carpenter goes up to the top rope.)

Axis: High risk move coming from “Picture Perfect”. Could be the move that is his namesake!

(Aaron aims at Duran, who is slowly recovering from the low blow, gets his balance, and signals to the crowd that it’s time to drop an elbow on John. Aaron flies off the top rope, and his elbow is locked on to Duran’s body, but Duran sees it coming at the last second and rolls out of the way, as Aaron comes down HARD on the mat.)

King: HAHAHAHA!

Axis: Aaron went for that elbow drop from the top rope, but the move misses its mark!

(John gets up and goes over to the fallen Carpenter, covering him for a pinfall.)

ONE…

TWO…

THR-NO! HE KICKED OUT!

(After the hard fall from Aaron, John can’t believe that he still managed to kick out! Starting to get a little frustrated, Duran picks up “Picture Perfect” and whips him into the ropes. John sizes Aaron up, but doesn’t see the spinning heel kick coming, as Carpenter whips that move out, striking Duran right in the “kisser”, and sending Duran crashing to the mat.)

Axis: Wha? Where did that come from? Very good recovery by Carpenter, as I don’t know how much punishment he would’ve been able to take from Duran!

(Aaron waits for Duran to get up, which John does, after awhile. Aaron runs up and catches John by surprise, locking his arms around Duran’s head, jumping up and coming back down, driving Duran’s jaw down onto the shoulder of “Picture Perfect” with a loud THUMP! Aaron moves over the fallen Duran and goes for the pin.)

Axis: Snapshot! “Picture Perfect” might get the win here!

ONE…

TWO…

THR-KICKOUT!

(The crowd is in disbelief, as both men have taken a lot of punishment in this match, and yet neither man is staying down! Aaron picks Duran up and gets him in position for a vertical suplex, but Duran blocks it! Carpenter tries again, but it’s blocked again! Duran gets an elbow in, knocking Aaron back, but Carpenter ducks a forearm smash, goes behind Duran and locks his arms around John's waist...)

Axis: Could this be the Photo Finish?

(...However, Duran reaches back and gives Aaron a couple of elbows to Carpenter’s temples. Aaron stumbles back, stunned, and Duran goes behind Aaron, pulling Aaron's arms up and locking his hands on the back of Carpenter's head.)

Axis: No, wait! Reversed, and it looks like Aaron's going for a ride!

(Duran brings Aaron up...and back down with a full nelson bomb, the force of the move shaking the ring once again, as Duran leans back and wraps his legs around Carpenter in a body scissors.)

King: Yes! This is it! He's done for!

Axis: The Break Point is locked on "Picture Perfect"! This move is shades of the Lockdown used by late SJL star Randy Turner!

(Aaron is stretched out and trapped between the powerful arms and legs of John Duran, but Carpenter is not about to start quitting after putting up a great fight tonight.)

King: Come on, you little runt, tap!

(Aaron is grimacing in pain, and just when it seems he might be trying to reverse the move somehow, Duran leans back and puts the pressure on, which makes Carpenter scream out in a surprise shock of pain. Sexton Hardcastle leans in, asking Aaron if he gives up, and after 5 more seconds of Aaron squirming around in the submission hold, Aaron finally waves his hand, at which point Sexton calls for the bell!)

Funyon: The winner, by submission, John Duran!

Axis: John Duran wins! A very good debut for the newcomer here tonight, but kudos to Aaron Carpenter on a match well done, he certainly gave Duran some serious trouble during this matchup…wait a second, what’s going on down there in the ring?

(Though John is aware that the match is over, Duran keeps the Break Point locked on Aaron, as Carpenter squirms around in the move.)

Axis: That's enough, John, let him go!

King: Don't ever let go, John!

(Duran keeps the hold locked on as the bell continues to ring and Anthony Michael Hall and Eddy Long run down to get Aaron away from Duran. Finally, Duran releases the Break Point, as Carpenter squirms around in pain. Duran grabs the nearest microphone, as the crowd boos him.)

Duran: All of you fans better get used to that kind of beating that Carpenter just got. Because it will happen again, and again, and again, until I become #1! For those of you that boo me, I encourage you to boo me, because that will only make things worse for those that step into the ring with me! I WILL RIP THOSE THAT YOU IDOLIZE TO SHREDS IN THIS RING! When I become #1, not a single damn one of you in that crowd will be a part of it! These are my goals, and I am going to do them alone! I REFUSE to be your hero!

(Duran throws down the microphone and goes to walk out of the ring, but as refs check on Carpenter, Duran kicks Carpenter in the side, as the crowd boos Duran out of the ring.)

March 10, 2003

This should be the Drunk Off Your Ass match, but apparently, one of our markers thought they should try to invoke the stipulation for themselves as well. The hangover appears to be firmly entrenched, so I don't have this match. Edited in when I do.

March 10, 2003

...and I don't have Fosta vs Blazenwing either! Bah.

March 10, 2003

We come back to Wrath as P.O.D.'s "Set It Off" rips through the darkened Staples Center Arena. The fans are a little unsure of the reaction befitting the slightly-warped superstar known as Geddion, so they go half-hot, half-cold in their show. As red spots trace patterns through the crowd, Geddion strides through the curtain, and Axis and King come in over the crowd via the happy magic called 'voice-over':

"Greetings all," Axis remarks as Geddion makes his march down to the ring. "Welcome back to SJL Wrath! Axis here with the King..."

"I'm sorry," King interrupts as Geddion slides into the ring. "But I'm not just any King. I am THE King..." Axis doesn't get an immediate chance to respond as Funyon takes to the mike.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Funyon intones over the crowd as he walks, sharp-looking as ever, around the ring. "The following contest is for the SJL Television Title!" A slight pop in recognition of the 'N00b Title'. "Introducing first, weighing in at 235lbs, and hailing from..." A slight beat of pause as he gets to a blank spot on his card. "Parts unknown... He is... GEDDION!" The reaction from the crowd is, again, split. Suddenly, Geddion grabs up the mike, pushing Funyon aside.

"Don't you people see???" Geddion rants as the people start to boo more; After all, you don't just push down a fashion plate like Funyon. Geddion looks at Funyon. "Don't YOU see??? The time of man on this Earth is nigh! The world is coming to an end..." He looks up, slowly rotating, pointing a finger out into the crowd. "And I am your ONLY salvation!" The crowd rips into a chorus of boos... How dare one man say he is the only one who can save the collective lives of the most self-centered, arrogant people in the world? Wonder if this is how they greet the President of the United States... Anyway, this is all moot as the lights drop out again, the sounds of thunder flowing through the enclosed area. The people are back into a half-half; Half glad that Geddion's rant is cut short... Half mad at the incoming star... Because he can be just as bad if he wants...

"All hail the champ-een, baby!" THE King declares as a shot of thunder accompanies a bright, searing flash of pyros on the stage...

---

*****BOOM!!!!!*****

I can feel the heat of a massive explosion of pyros from the other side of the curtain. Aaaaah... Nothing like the smell of another performance. I take a moment to look at the TV Title in my hands as "One Of A Kind" blasts out of the speakers just beyond the barrier here. The crowd's out there, too... And they sound particularly nasty. I think it's just the mantra of L.A.: "Treat people as badly as possible." Anyway, I banish all those thoughts as I finally part the curtains, walking to the ramp. I hold the title belt high, for everyone to see... And needless to say, the crowd's hating on me. Why that is, I have no idea... Heh. Like I'd care, either... If I knew. I feel the adrenaline pumping in my body, and it helps wash away the pains of old wounds… It’s like being reborn, going through those curtains, approaching the ring. Anyway, I'm getting closer to the ring. The fans here are no less brutal, heaving insults and barbs my way. Big whoop. Funyon, much to his credit, is back up on his feet. That guy, Geddion, is looking at me in such an odd way. I've heard the guy's crazy... Well, folks... It's time I knocked him straight.

"And his opponent," Funyon announces over the house speakers, "weighing in at 245 lbs, hailing from New Haven, Connecticut... He is..." I love this part, and speak along: "Your... SJL Television Champion..." Oh yeah... That's the stuff. "He is... The OMEGA STORM!" The crowd renews their rage against me, and I soak it in, grinning. Again, Geddion grabs the mike, and glares at me. This guy is a goof.

"And you..." he intones, trying to invoke God or something it sounds like, "You're not worthy of salvation... Your end has been written. It shall be by my hand, tonight." I have to laugh... This guy, seriously, thinks he's a damn Nostradamus. I spy a mike out of the corner of my little eye, and pick it up. Flipping the switch that'll give the people around the world the Voice of The Storm, I look at the crazy loon in the ring and say:

"You might think you're going to stop the extinction of the human race, or some shit like that... But you can't... And no one can... Stop... THE OMEGA STORM!" With that, I toss the mike and my belt to ringside and charge the ring, diving under the nearest ropes. Funyon bails, Geddion looks a little surprised, and the bell rings... A trifecta of goodness to my advantage. I spring up to full height, but Geddion is a little smarter of a wrestler than he is a speech-maker. He connects on a quick haymaker to the noggin, staggering me out of surprise, and giving the crowd a little something to cheer about… They may not like this guy, but they certainly don’t like me. I respond in kind, sending Notre-Dame-Us back a bit. He comes back with one, and I respond... A weird game of "I Can Top That" is ensuing, and I see him already starting to lose a little steam. So the next punch he throws, I grab that arm and sling him forward... Past me, into the ropes. He comes off, and I try to blast him with a quick clothesline, but he ducks it. A cheer goes up from the crowd. Hmph. I turn, waiting for the rebound. I drop down ,hoping to get the drop toe accomplished, but... Damn! He jumps me! A little bit of a smart one here. Another cheer from the assembled masses at the Staples Center. Double hmph. I ponder getting up for a throw, but think better of it as he comes off... His expression is a little surprised as I'm still on the ground, and he tries to jump... But a little too late as I wrap the leg, and bring him sprawling on his face as the drop toe, take 2, is completed. Take that, you damn dirty crowd. I try to get up quick to take advantage of the situation, but he's up quicker... Rgh, this guy's fast. Maybe I should've been scouting tape instead of partying my ass off, celebrating my title win. As it is, it's a little late to think about as What's-His-Face starts twisting my arm. I grunt, as the arm's still a little banged up from the punishment it's received in matches past. I try to get myself into a position of less hurting, but Geddion follows, keeping the pressure on. The crowd is giving this guy their backing whole-heartedly now… Wait a minute… Heart… Oh yeah, there we go. A quick flick of the wrist... And the arm attached... And BAM! Heart punch... That made the guy let go. Now it's time to beat the living fuck out of this guy.

---

The crowd is reacting badly to the turn of events as Geddion is recovering from a wicked heart punch by the TV Champ. Storm approaches the slightly-doubled Geddion, but is in for a rude awakening as Geddion springs to life! The crowd rallies behind him as he charges the ropes, rebounds, then pulls off a hand springing back elbow smash! Storm hits his knees as Geddion’s elbow leaves an impression on his head… Geddion lances out a leg, leveling a kick into Storm’s chest to complete his fall, and slides down for the cover:

.

..

…

..

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ONE!

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..

…

..

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T… And Storm powers out

“It seems the speed of Geddion is surprising our TV Champion a bit,” Axis notes as Geddion pulls Storm to his feet, and raps a backhand across his chest… ***SLAP!!!*** The crowd echoes in “oooooh”s.

“Don’t worry Shedmeister,” King offers as Geddion rears back again… ***SLAP!!!*** Oooooh… “Raw strength always puts speed on the ground, and beat the living Hell out of it.” Geddion, getting a little complacent, lances out a leg and spins, trying to connect on the spinning wheel kick, but Storm saw it coming from about a mile away, and grabs the leg. Geddion foolishly bounces a couple of times, contemplating trying a daring back brain kick, but… Much to the crowd’s dismay, Storm renders that option pointless as he pulls off a standing dragon screw, taking the ‘Jesus Freak’ to the mat! Storm follows him down, hooking the leg for the cover:

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ONE!

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TWO… And Geddion kicks out. The crowd is relieved, but Storm is livid, ripping into the ref as he stands.

“That was a fine reversal by Storm!” King gushes. “But an absolutely horrid count by the referee! Storm should be on his way to celebrate right now!”

“But he’s not,” Axis states quickly as the crowd volume rises, “And he should be paying more attention!”

---

I don’t know what happened…

One second, I’m pursuing the referee because of a crappy count, and the next… Let’s see… Geddion pulled my arm, got me turned around… Belly-to-belly waistlock… Then I’m flying through the air, and landing back-first on the mat. Oh, it was a spinebuster slam thing. Not bad… But now I’m finally catching up with time… Leg hooked? A lot of weight on me? Oh HELL no! I push up as hard as I can, knocking the raving lunatic off of me just as the ref was bringing the hand down again… By the crowd’s reaction, it had to have been the ‘Three’ count. I slowly get to a sitting position, but then I’m pulled up… By my hair, no less… You don’t know how much that hurts. Geddion’s up in my face, screaming…

“You see now, don’t you? Your time as champion is short-lived, just like those in this arena’s time on earth is short-lived!” And before I can get enough of a lugie to plant squarely in the guy’s face, he gets me in a nice ¾ facelock, and snaps me back over his shoulder onto my back. Damn… This guy’s got some technical skills… And he’s got the crowd… How can that be? He told –L. Fucking A.- that he was the only one that could save them! Anyway… At the moment, my breath’s kinda non-present as he comes back, and hooks the leg again… Alright… Time to get out of this thing. I get my wind back, and push up just as the ref hits ‘Two!’, breaking the pin and throwing Geddion behind me in the process. I sit up for a moment, sucking wind, and I see the ref high-tailing it out of the way… The crowd’s cheering their lungs out… What’s the deal? Suddenly, I see him flipping over me, with a twisted smile on his face… So he’s showing off, big… Whoops! I didn’t realize until stars suddenly appeared in front of my eyes what he was trying to pull off… He must’ve grabbed my head on his way out, and snapped it forward… Hard. Hey, that was the sound I heard. I might have to thank him later for cracking my neck so well, but for right now it hurts. I’m back-down on the mat again, and he’s going for the cover… Wait a minute.. Can I even still move? That neck snap hurts a Hell of a lot more than I thought. Was that one slap of the mat, or two? Ah, movement! I get the shoulder up just as the ref’s hand is halfway down again… That was definitely a three as the crowd and Geddion both are raising Hell. Now it’s Geddion’s turn to let the ref have it, and it’s my turn to take advantage. I get slowly to my feet, and the crowd’s already in ‘Warning’ mode. Too bad… I run towards the ropes, rebound, and level a nice running kick into the back of Geddion’s knees. There… that ought to take away a little from that speed advantage. Now… Would you look at that? He’s on his knees… Time to put this away. Get over the arm, wristlock, stop-drop-and-roll, hook and pin… And, much to my pleasure, the crowd boos! Now count, zebra!

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ONE!

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TWO!

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DAMNIT! He’s out… I don’t know how, but he’s out. The crowd is alive and well, and rallying for this doofus. I get back up, and start some major stompage while he’s still on the ground. The ref is in my face, and I ignore him the best I can. The crowd’s up in arm, and I ignore them too. All I hear is my foot connecting with Geddion’s body, and his grunts of pain… Like music. Finally, the ref gets to ‘Five’, and starts to get physical. I back off, but not before nailing a nice soccer kick to Geddion’s side. The crowd doesn’t like the cheap shot, and I let them know I don’t care with the nice “Two Finger Salute”. It’s wonderful to be me. But wait, the crowd is cheering now…? What gives? I turn around, then realize… I shouldn’t have turned around. That’s why the crowd was cheering as…

*****CRACK!!!!!*****

---

The crowd stands as one and goes ballistic as Geddion connects with a solid spinning kick to the throat of Omega Storm! The bigger man goes down, clutching his throat, gagging as Geddion charges for the corner!

“Damn!” King groans as he watches Storm writhe on the mat. “He could’ve crushed Storm’s windpipe with that kick! Someone get him out of there! He’s a menace to wrestling!”

“Shut up, Kingie!” Axis retorts as Geddion climbs to the top of the buckle. “It was a perfectly legit move, and you know it! And it doesn’t even look like Geddion’s done yet!” And indeed, Geddion’s on the top buckle, macking to the crowd as Storm lies oddly motionless on the mat. After a moment, he jumps towards Storm and twists and turns in the air… Pulling an inverted 360 in flight… The crowd is eating it up as they’ve been brought up on high-flying acrobatics because of one Kobe Bryant…

…

But, unlike Kobe, this slam has a not-so-happy finish as all Geddion connects with is blue mat! The crowd gasps and boos as they see Storm roll harmlessly out of the way, struggling to a stand.

“Unbelievable!” Axis cries. “Geddion went for The Final Blow, and mis-timed! Storm was playing possum the whole time!” Geddion rolls weakly around on the mat as Storm uses the ropes as a crutch to get to his feet.

“That’s the mental game he plays,” King says, smiling. “He’s a smart wrestler, that one is.”

---

All I can think at this point is how lucky I really am. I caught out of the corner of my eye how hard he hit the mat… If I’d have been under him, I would’ve been dead. As it is, that throat kick is still stinging quite a bit, but I need to take advantage of the situation… Like now. I stagger over to the prone Geddion, and haul him up by his hair. I look him in the face… Wow, he’s well out of it. I sneer, and growl…

“Listen real carefully… I said it before, and I’ll say it again… No one can stop… OOF!” My speech is interrupted as he throws a fist into my stomach. The crowd’s getting up and rowdy again… Another fist! Damn him! He’s supposed to be DONE! And another fist! I let go of his hair, to try to get some distance… He helps out by slinging me into the ropes! I rebound, and as he goes for the clothesline into the already-weakened neck, I duck it and put on the breaks… Well… One arm around his waist helps me stop. The crowd seems to know what’s upcoming, so I don’t disappoint, even though they don’t like me! I turn, and throw the other around and lock them tight… Here we go! Up and over we go with the German… ONE! And up we come… Heh… My mind is singing, “The Germans are coming! The Germans are coming!” as numbers two and three hit home! But, I can feel Geddion struggling and fighting in my grip, so… BOOM! Number four is the last… But as I release it, I follow him down, scooping him back up before he can get too far. I hoist him up, stomach-first, onto my shoulder. The crowd seems to deflate as I do it, too… They know that this is the end. Under the arms, push him up, down we come with the ¾ facelock, down to the mat…

*****BOOM!!!!!*****

Omega Cloudburst, and that’s the ballgame… I roll over, and hook the leg… The ref starts counting:

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ONE!

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TWO!! And he’s fighting… Again! What’s the deal??? I put all my weight down… Now stay down!

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THREE!!! And with that, the bell rings, the crowd launches into a chorus line of boos… And I stand, with my hand raised, and the title back to where it belongs: In –my- hands! And as Funyon’s voice filters through the speakers, I grin:

“Your winner, and … STILL … the SJL Television Champion… The OMEGA STORM!!!” I slide out of the ring, heading back to the back, leaving a pile of mangled Oracle back in the ring… The boos don’t faze me… In fact, I relish them.

It’s my time in the sun now, bitches.

March 10, 2003

The commercial break ends as the lights begin to dim, but a few fans in the audience were intelligent enough to have their signs glow in the dark. Some of which read, "Janus is a good World Champion," "Metal is now 3 Hours!" and my personal favourite, "Crow is not a very nice person, we should boo him." Three mysterious men slip them twenty-dollar bills as the camera pans back to the entranceway, 'Three Libras' by a Perfect Circle begins to play. Mr. Blackwell soon shows his face, a few stiches over his left eye after his encounter with Omega Storm. He walks slowly down the ramp way, the fans cheering softly as the music continues to play.

As the Irishman hits the ring, Funyon gets on the mic as he always does, shouting out to the capacity crowd, “The following match is a NO DISQUALIFICATION three way dance!” The fans cheer, liking the sound of that. “… And it will be scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Rosslare Ireland. Standing six foot four and weighing two hundred and thirty seven pounds, please welcome to the ring… CHRISTIAN BLACKWELL!”

“This is an important match for all three men…” Axis begins saying, “Each one is capable of hitting the main event, and a win here could mean bigger things for any of these men.”

“And I think this man has the goods Axis. He always has a great game plan in mind, and as he’s shown in the past, he can be a bit of a prick, and I always support that style of play.”

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, walking down the ramp way 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.

As Blackwell glares at the Norse God, Funyon gets back on the mic, and yells in his booming, perfect announcers voice, “…And his opponent, from Immortal Valhalla. Standing seven foot even, and weighing three hundred and forty five pounds, ladies and gentleman, he the thunder god, he is… THOR!”

The crowd cheers louder than before, Thor climbing onto the ring apron and going over the top rope, staring a hole through Blackwell as they both await their opponent.

“None of these men have vendettas, none have any grievances, so we should see a well fought contest between these men.”

“Jesus Christ, Thor is bloody massive! Shooting him would be a good way to win this match, because I don’t see how you could keep a man of his size down!”

“I’d hate too see one of our Junior Leaguers be arrested, but some are crazy enough…”

"Ah..."

"Ah...."

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

"I'M IN OVER MY HEAD!"

The opening lyrics of "Over My Head" by Lit blast through the arena, as Matt simply walks out on the entranceway, and out strides Matt Myers, a broad smile on his face as he stalks down the rampway, slapping hands with his loyal fans as he walks by, the cheers are loudest for this old Junior Leaguer who they love. As he slides into the ring, jumping up and down to warm himself up, Thor and Blackwell looking at him strangely with his boundless energy, Funyon gets on the mic.

“In the ring, from New Haven, Connecticut. Standing six foot three, and weighing in at two hundred and twenty one pounds, he is the punk rockstar, he is… MATT MYERS!”

More cheers erupt from the capacity crowd as Myers raises his arms, appreciative of the crowds support, and letting them know that.

“The fans love Myers, and that will certainly help him during the match,” Axis notes.

“Oh that’s crap,” King rebuts. “How can mass cheering help a man escape a figure four, or counter a piledriver? That’s right, it doesn’t!”

“You’re just bitter that the fans stop cheering for you.”

“… That was a very trying time in my life.”

Funyon quickly leaves the ring as each man takes a part of the ring to warm up, the referee nodding to the timekeeper, who rings the bell.

“Ding, ding, ding!”

“And this match is under way!” Axis yells.

“Oh, so THAT’S what the bell means…”

Thor looks at Myers, then Blackwell, lumbering towards the two with his tree trunk arms looking to grapple in a test of strength. Neither Blackwell nor Myers want any part of it, awed by the freakishly tall and powerful Thor. Blackwell strikes first, his forearm blow only stinging Thor for a second, as he growls and lunges at the Irishman, but Myers steps in, leaping onto Thor’s shoulders and pounding away with right hands to the Norse god’s head! Myers ride doesn’t last long as Thor throws him from off his shoulders, slamming his head against the nearby turnbuckle. Myers distraction gives Blackwell enough time to chop block Thor, taking out his leg from behind, but the Norse god manages to keep his feet! Blackwell suddenly shows a trait that we haven’t seen from him: Cowardice. The Irishman turns to Myers and grabs him by the hand, pulling him out of the turnbuckles and whipping him into Thor’s grasp! The big man lifts Myers into the air with a military press, but Blackwell puts his plan into effect as he sneaks over and hits another chop block to Thor! This time, the Norse God crumples to the mat, and Myers falls on top of him with splash! The referee slides over for the pin!

“Cunning stuff from the Irishman,” Axis comments. “A little underhanded, but very cunning.”

King replies, “Hmmm, maybe I’ve been all wrong about this Blackwell character… but he still has a lot to lean about being underhanded.”

“Oh no, you’re not giving another budding young talent, “A helping hand.” Axis says, snickering all the while.

“Do I look like bobby Riley to you?”

… O n e !

… T – But Thor powers out, sending Myers flying across the ring from a kick out! Blackwell pounces like a pouncing animal pouncing on its prey. Blackwell tries to lock on an early Sharpshooter! But Thor is just too big, and as Blackwell desperately tries to wrap Thor’s legs around his own, Myers catches him with a dropkick to the jaw! Blackwell stumbles backward, thumping into a corner, stunned momentarily. Myers begins to charge at his Irish opponent, but his Norse opponent climbs to his feet and Myers runs into him! The crowd cheer as the two face off, but it’s not for long as one right hand punch sends Myers stumbling across the ring. Thor keeps coming at Myers, smacking him in the face with stiff punches, but this time, Blackwell makes the timely save, grabbing Thor from around the waist and attempting a German Suplex! No matter how hard he tries to lift Thor, the Norse god is just too heavy, and to alert to Blackwell’s action, literally swatting Blackwell away with elbow’s to the side of the head. The big man turns around and grabs Blackwell, whipping him into the nearby ropes.

The Irishman returns, as Thor ducks his head and turns his body. Blackwell reaches him, as Thor lifts him up into the air and twirling him around in the air, trying to lay out Blackwell over his knee with a back breaker, but the cunning Blackwell manages to land on his feet to applause! Blackwell seems pleased with his efforts, but Thor soon wipes the smile off of his face as he lunges toward him with outstretched arm clotheslining him with so much force that Blackwell does one entire revolution in the air before hitting the canvas!

“Thor’s size and strength will aid him well in this match, but Blackwell is already focusing his offence on Thor’s left leg, trying to immobilise the big man to make it easier to keep him down.”

“That’s right, Axis.”

“… Anything you want to add King?”

“What do you want me to say? I can’t always have a witty line to belittle you with.”

Thor reaches down to grab Blackwell, but the Irishman quickly crawls away, sliding out of the ring! For the first time in his SJL career, Blackwell is met with boos as this cowardly action, and Thor too is upset, reaching over the ropes, trying to coax Blackwell back into the ring to face him like a man. Blackwell keeps Thor’s attention just long enough as Matt Myers dropkicks Thor in the back of the head, sending him over the top rope! The crowd cheers as Myers smiles and raises his fist to the crowd. Blackwell takes advantage of Thor’s predicament, putting the boots to him as he lies against the guard rail, the fans around the ring yelling at him to stop, but he looks at them and shakes his head, continuing to stomp away. Myers looks over the top rope, lining Blackwell up in his sights, but the Irishman’s spidey sense is up to the task, as Blackwell turns around and rushes across the floor, grabbing Myers around the ankles and flipping him to the mat!

“Man, I don’t know what has come over Blackwell…” King says, stroking his chin, suddenly lighting up. “But I like it!”

“Of course you would, it’s your job,” Axis remarks with a snicker. “But yeah, I don’t know what has gotten into him, but I’m sure it has something to do with that mysterious character that has been hanging around.”

As King thumps Axis in the leg, causing him to squeal, Blackwell leaps back onto the ring apron, placing his hands on the top rope and springing over, aiming for Myers with a slingshot splash from the apron. However, Matt is able to counter this, hiking his knees up to his waist, and Blackwell falls right on top of them! Blackwell stumbles around the ring, his arm gripping his waist as Myers climbs back to his feet, waiting for Blackwell to do his round of the ring, grabbing him by the neck as he nears…

“New Found Glory!” Axis yells. “Myers is looking to hit the Diamond Cutter, but wait, Thor is back on the ring apron!”

Myers is distracted for just a second by the seven foot monster in front of him, but its long enough for Blackwell to push Myers towards the ropes! Thor cracks Myers square in the face with a forearm, grabbing his arm and throwing it over his shoulder, and then gripping hold of his tights. The big man lifts Myers into the air, keeping his feet as he throws Myers over the top rope with a suplex! The thud that follows is quite sickening as Myers cries out in pain. Blackwell tries to take Thor by surprise again, but Thor clobbers him in the face with a right hand, sending the Irishman reeling. Thor casually steps over the top rope, grabbing Blackwell from around the waist and lifting him into the air, locking his hands around Blackwell and wrenching him with a bearhug!

“Wake me when this hold is over Axis…” King remarks with a yawn.

“Oh very funny, but this is actually a very sound strategy from Thor, Blackwell has hurt his ribs already in this match, and crushing them in his grip is a good way to make things worse for the Irishman.”

“By god your right Axis, he’ll only be able to drink **three** pints tonight.”

“King, you’re here for comedy relief, and you’re not even doing a good job.”

“Bah, I’m more than just comedy relief, I’ll show you, you dirty Australian.”

The crowd laughs as they hear the word Australian, but all the while the in-ring action continues, Thor tightening his grip on Blackwell, trying to crush his vital organs. Blackwell begins to struggle, not able to pry himself free, but luckily for him Myers is back on his feet, and back on the ring apron. Thor spots the super face from out of the corner of his eye, letting go of Blackwell, trying to finish the job with Myers. The punk rock star punches Thor in the face, which Thor no-sells with a laugh, but he is suddenly bent over as Myers kicks him in the ribs! Myers flips over the top rope and grabs hold of Thor, pulling him down to the mat with a sunset flip!

… O n e !

… T w o – But Thor pushes away, breaking the count.

“Very smart move from Myers,” remarks a very analytical King. “He’s using his speed to gain the advantage over Thor, which is just what he needs to do. Each man in this match has a different style, Thor the big powerhouse, Blackwell the cunning technical genius, and Myers the skilful cruiserweight. This will be a very unique match, to say the least.”

Axis struggles for words, “… Ok, you’ve proved your point, now go back to insulting me.”

“Will do, jackass.”

Myers climbs straight back to his feet, but so does Thor, just much slower. Myers peppers Thor with martial arts kicks, stunning him for a moment, giving him enough time to leap onto his shoulders, trying to flip over with a Hurricanrana! But the big man grabs hold of Myers legs, flipping him back up onto his shoulders and sitting out, hitting a power bomb!

“Brilliant work from Thor,” Axis marvels. “I thought Myers had him with that Hurricanrana, but Thor showed great strength to hold on and bury him with a powerbomb.”

“Reminds me of your powerbombs Axis, before you became a cripple,” King says with a sly grin. “Myers better stay down, because Thor looks frustrated, and you don’t want to mess with a pissed off Norse god.”

But as soon as Axis finishes praising the Norse god, Blackwell grabs Thor by the leg as he climbs to his feet, flipping him onto his stomach and sitting on his back, pulling back on his leg with an elevated single leg crab! The rise to their feet as Thor crawls to the ropes, Blackwell sitting down further to stop Thor, but his seven foot frame helps him lunge toward the bottom rope and grab on! The referee just shrugs his shoulders, reminding Thor of the no-DQ rule. The crowd are just a little annoyed as Blackwell keeps the hold locked on, digging his knee into Thor’s back as he twists Thor’s leg into tight angles. Thor grunts and shouts as he suddenly flips his legs over and shucks Blackwell away! The Irishman is pissed, in more ways than one, as he lifts Thor’s leg into the air and slams it back down on the canvas.

“That a boy,” King yells. “Attack that leg, be a bastard, do it for me!”

“I’m sure Blackwell still holds the ideals of fair play and sportsmanship, even if he is being a bit of a bastard in the process. Whoever that man is, it’s going to take more than a few words to change Blackwell.”

“Blackwell was showing signs of change even before he came along, he’s simply pushing him over the edge…”

Blackwell continues hounding Thor, and his leg, stomping on the back of his knee, the ref not able to stop him, but not happy with what’s going on. Blackwell lifts Thor to his feet, whipping him into a corner. Blackwell lowers his head and charges toward the corner, leaping into the air with a stinger splash! But Thor ducks and the Irishman falls onto the top turnbuckle! Thor is about to pound away on Blackwell but Myers is back on his feet and ready for revenge, charging towards the Norse god. Thor grabs him and throws him over his head, using him to land a splash on Blackwell! Myers stumbles out from the corner, as Thor waits for him, his hand outstretched and fingers ready to grip around Myers neck! The crowd begins to make noise as…

“Thwack!”

Thor grips his hand around Myers, lifting him into the air with a chokeslam! But the punk rock star counters before Thor can react, using a martial arts kick to escape Thor’s grasp! Myers thanks his lucky stars as he turns to Blackwell, who surprises Myers by charging out from the corner with his head down! Myers manages to leap frog over the Irishman, as Blackwell continues on, spearing Thor in the stomach and thumping him into the corner! The blow hurts Thor as well as Blackwell, as Christian stumbles backward, Myers lying in wait, grabbing Blackwell in a front face lock, falling backwards and hitting an Evenflow DDT!

“Haha!” Axis laughs. “The crowd are loving Myers right now, getting the best of Thor and Blackwell! That was a beautiful DDT, and now he makes the cover!”

… O n e !

… T w o ! Thor rushes over from the corner…

…… T – Thor jumps into the air and comes down, looking to break up Myers pin with a big elbow drop, but Myers moves out of the way and Thor lands on Blackwell! The crowd cheers triumphantly as the smallest guy in the match takes control, lifting Blackwell to his feet and whipping him into the ropes. Myers turns around and rushes towards the ropes in front of him, jumping onto the second rope and using it as a springboard to flip off, landing on Blackwell with a moonsault! The referee is about to count the pin for Myers when Blackwell keeps rolling through, hooking Myers by the leg in a quick roll up!

… O n e !

… T w o !

…… T h r - But Myers manages to kick out! Both men get straight back to their feet, despite the slight fatigue.

“Myers moonsault nearly cost him the win!” King shouts. “Myers hit it perfectly, but “Cunning” Christian Blackwell manages to turn it into a roll up! That would have spelt heart break for Myers had Blackwell pinned him there and then.”

“King, that may be the worst nick name for a wrestler. Ever.”

Blackwell manages to duck a round house kick from Myers, quickly pivoting on one foot and swinging around to grab Myers from around the waist, lifting him into the air and dropping him on the back of his head with a German Suplex! Blackwell grins as he climbs back to his feet, pretty proud of his efforts, but he soon loses a smile as he turns around he is met with Thor’s boot smacking him the face! The fans cheer as Thor growls, lifting Blackwell to his feet and rearing back…

“Smack!”

… And hits Blackwell across the chest with a knife-edge chop!

“Smack!”

The crowd begins to chant “Whooo!” after every stinging shot.

“Smack!”

“Blackwell’s chest is beet red after these vicious shots,” Axis comments. “Thor’s leg is hurtin’, and he’s been struck in the head a few too many times, but it’s near impossible to keep him down for too long.”

“Smack!”

Thor backs Blackwell into a corner and ducks his head, lifting Blackwell up onto the top rope. Thor climbs up to meet him, raising his fist and punching him in the head. “One! Two! Three!” The fans chant along once more as Thor continues laying into the Irishman, who is looking groggier than usual. “Four! Five! Six! Seven!” But before Thor can deliver the final blows, Blackwell reaches down and low blows the Norse god!

“Ouch…” King remarks with a shudder. “I don’t care who you are, god or not, a hit to the groin will always bring you to your knees.”

Thor hops off the turnbuckles, still looking surprised as he holds his crotch, but Blackwell doesn’t let up, standing up on the second turnbuckle and leaping off, grabbing Thor around the head and spinning him around with a Tornado DDT! It fails though, as Thor throws Blackwell off of his shoulders! The Irishman manages to land on his feet, but the wise Thor knees Blackwell in the weak spot, the stomach, doubling him over. Thor lifts Blackwell into the air, placing him in a position for a tombstone! But Myers makes a surprise appearance, hitting yet another dropkick, but this time to the back of Thor’s knee! This causes the big man to drop to one knee and drop Blackwell on his feet. Myers grabs Thor from around the neck, pulling him back, arching the big mans back, locking on a Dragon Sleeper, hooking Thor’ hurt leg with his own!

“The Ska Stretch! This just may put Thor out!” Axis shouts. “Not only is Myers putting the hurt to Thor’s neck and back, he’s also yanking back on his injured leg! Blackwell’s strategy may work in Myers favour!”

Thor doesn’t show it, but he is in a lot of pain, the fans not sure who to cheer for! For Myers, who locks in the Ska Stretch even more, or Thor, begging him to escape the move and have the match continue. Something they don’t count on is Christian Blackwell, who sneaks up behind Myers and grabs both of his arms, locking on a chickenwing! Blackwell wrenches on Myers arms, forcing him to let go of Thor, and pulling him away, trying to push him into the mat!

Myers face slams against the canvas as Blackwell flips over in a bridge, locking on the Cattle Mutilation! The fans don’t know how to react as Myers yelps with pain, surging down his spine, flowing through his whole body. Thor starts to mutter to himself, then moves his arms, trying to climb to his feet, but he is forced to grab his leg, too much damage being done to it.

“Narcosynthesis!” King yells, calling Blackwell’s move. “Blackwell has ended many a match with this move, no one has been able to escape it yet!”

“But they were singles matches, no one to break up the hold, and Thor has the opportunity to do that!”

Blackwell literally screams at Myers, telling him to give up now. The fans are undecided, but their noise rises as the referee slides over, Myers is at the ropes, but the referee can’t break the hold. Thor starts to move again, climbing onto all fours, looking over at Blackwell, putting Myers through pure anguish with his finishing hold. Thor stumbles over, as the referee asks one more time, Myers opening his mouth…

Thor dives across, leading off his bad leg, but he doesn’t care, hitting Blackwell across the ribs!

… But it’s too late, as Myers shouts, “I quit” and the bell rings! The fans let out a long sigh as Blackwell doesn’t bother having his arm raised by the referee, sliding out of the ring, as Funyon gets on the mic.

“The winner of this match via submission, CHRISTIAN BLACKWELL!”

“He did it!” King cries. “Thor was just a split second away from breaking up the hold, but Myers had to give up!”

“A great win for Blackwell,” Axis agrees. “But he’s given himself a black eye in this match with his dubious tactics, I just hope this sort of thing doesn’t continue. Blackwell pics up the victory here, but stay tuned after the break as Sean Atlas, the most impressive rookie the Junior League has seen in a long time, goes one on one with a true old schooler, Manson, to decide the fate of the European title!”

Wrath goes to a break, the mystery man clapping as Blackwell stumbles to the back, nursing his injuries, but with another victory under his belt.

March 10, 2003

PROMO

We fade in on a view of Ben Hardy standing in front of a television monitor, presumably backstage. Immediately, the view expands to show Sean Atlas standing to his left, staring a hole through Ben. The European Title wrapped tightly around his waist, Atlas is dressed in his usual attire: solid white wrestling tights, bare top, white mask with a black and grey pattern on his face. Following a few moments of awkwardness, Ben Hardy works up the guts to speak.

[ben] Sean Atlas, last week you faced Thor in a challenge based on your beliefs. As it happened, you were preaching to the crowd about believing in Gods, when an actual Norse God stepped through the curtain and challenged you to a match. If you will, please watch this replay of the ending to that contest.

As Ben steps to the side to reveal the monitor in its entirety, clips from Sean's match against Thor begin to play...

-=: replay :=- -=: replay :=- -=: replay :=-

[Axis] Triple Gorilla Press! Thor can set his finisher up this way!

[King] He sure can..

Just as Thor presses Atlas a second time, the fans let out a sudden and loud cheer and a man appears to be running down the ramp...

[King] What the?

[Axis] Is that?

[King] It is!

[Axis] THAT'S OUR WORLD CHAMPION, JANUS!

Thor presses Atlas a third time, just as Janus enters the ring under the bottom rope and charges directly at Thor....

[Axis & King] GORE! GORE GORE GORE GORE GORE!!!

As Janus huge frame rams itself into that of Thor, both men crash on the ring mat, landing in a loud thud followed by the sound of Atlas' body crashing down onto the ring surface. The fans are booing this spectacle, as everything goes on while the referee is knocked out. Janus stands up, yelling a Thor, then at the crowd. He turns around to see Atlas standing up and smiles at the European Champion... Sean seems to be smiling back. Janus runs over to Thor's fallen body and quickly brings him up onto his feet. Atlas, meanwhile, motions for Janus to place him on his shoulders...

[Axis] Why is Janus helping Sean Atlas?

[King] How would I know? They both have championships right now.. maybe it's the old M7 trick of bringing all the belts into one group.

[Axis] Wait, are you saying that Sean Atlas has joined the Magnificent Seven??

[King] I don't know, dammit. I don't know!!!

Janus lifts Thor up and with Atlas ducking down a bit, he rolls Thor over to Sean, placing him across Sean's back. Obviously struggling, Atlas holds the giant up and turns, as Janus leaves the ring and jumps the barrier, running off past the jeering crowd. After completely turning around with 345 pounds of Thor on his back, Atlas Bends down to one side and hits...

[King] THE SAINT'S DEMISE!!!

-=: replay :=- -=: replay :=- -=: replay :=-

[ben] Do you have any comments about what you see there, particularly about the involvement of the SJL World Champion, Janus?

[Atlas] I think you guys forgot to show how I made Thor tap to a hammerlock.

[ben] Well, that was onl...

[Atlas] Shut up, Ben. You want to know why Janus interfered? (Ben nods) Then keep quiet.

Sean snatches the microphone away from Ben Hardy and stares at the camera, with occasional glimpses towards Ben.

[Atlas] Janus himself already told you why he was involved. How could any of you miss it? It was only two hours beforehand that he explained everything. I understand that most of you here in LA have an attention span too short to even wipe your ass properly, but there's no was you could have missed Janus' speech. Remember, the opening segment on Metal? These were his words, verbatim: "Consider this a public service announcement. The Magnificent Seven is a stable of wrestlers who have the power and technical skill to win their matches no matter what the cost. Our presence in the Junior Leagues will rise once more.....when and how is left for you people to ponder."

As the grim of Sean's mask and the beady black eyes behind it stare powerfully into the camera, the noise made by the crowd is audible enough for him to have to pause.

[Atlas] You see, it's all very simple. Janus was the sole presence of the Magnificent Seven in the Junior League. Two shows back, he won the SJL World Championship; the title that at least four other men are in direct competition with him for. A man in such position needs to make sure that the title he fought so hard for remains in his possession. So who else does he call but Sean Atlas, the SJL Superstar of the Month.

Under the small cutout part of his mask, it is obvious that Sean Atlas in proudly smiling.

[Atlas] At the same time I, Sean Atlas, just came off a loss. My winning streak, albeit short but incredibly productive, came to an end. I knew that sooner or later, I would be in danger of losing my European Championship - a belt that I obtained by retiring Chris Card, who, by the way, beat Janus for it. I had to make sure that MY belt stayed around MY waist. Janus had the same goal for his title. Mutually understanding one another led to me becoming the newest member of the Magnificent Seven.

[ben] So you're confirming that you actually have joined the Magnificent Seven? Why then, would Janus then interfere on Metal if your title wasn't on the line?

[Atlas] Would you rather I had waited till now?

[ben] Well, no. But what about tonight, when you face the returning Manson. Will Janus be involved again?

[Atlas] All I can tell you, and everybody else, is too watch carefully. Tonight, next week, the week after... Everything I do has a much greater purpose. Everything I say means more than what you hear. Every win, every loss, every decision that I make matters more than you can possibly imagine. Manson is no challenge to me, but my match with him tonight is no less significant than any other match I have. A little too cryptic for you, Ben? Too bad. Just pay attention and keep watching. My message, my judgment, my revelation will be more important than any spiritual one you'll ever know.

And with that, Sean removes himself from the scene.

The view cuts to one of the announcers, sitting at ringside, dumbfounded by Atlas' words.

[Axis] Well that was a little different.

[King] Not really. How many of these apocalyptic, morbid, mysterious ashholes... rather, assholes, do we have these days - five, seven?

[Axis] Maybe, but at least this asshole can win a match.

March 10, 2003

The house lights in the Staples Center drop to pitch black and multi-colored strobelights begin to flash from the stage area. "Hate Song" by The Haunted blares over the sound system as Manson walks out onto the stage, spreading his arms out in a crucifix. The fans give a lukewarm reception to the returning star as he walks down the ramp, towards the ring. Over the music, Funyon introduces him...

"The following match is set for one fall, and is for the SJL European Championship! Introducing first, the challenger, weighing in at 205 pounds, hailing from Denver, Colorado, returning to active competition... MANSON!"

[King] After the challenge posed by Thor last week, Manson shouldn't be much of a problem for the champion, what with his smaller stature.

[Axis] Very true, King. Despite his supposed vitality, there may be some ring rust for Manson to deal with as well.

Manson gets to the ring and slides in under the bottom rope. Standing, he runs the ropes a bit, ignoring the mild cheers from the crowd. His music then fades out and the lights return to normal as the familiar momentary silence between entrances engulfs the Staples Center. Seconds later, "Polyamorous" by Breaking Benjamin hits the speakers and the lights begin to flash accordingly. As the drums kick in, an explosion goes off onstage, and behind it, we see Sean Atlas, standing proudly with his European gold around his waist. To the jeers of the crowd, he walks across the stage and down the ramp.

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

Sean gets to ringside and climbs up the steps into the ring, already holding his title in his hand. Handing it to the referee, Anthony Michael Hall, Atlas watches him as he lifts the belt over his head, signifying what is only the line in this matchup. Hall hands it to a ringside worker while Atlas and Manson circle each other in the ring.

*ding ding*

The two competitors circle one another, trying to find the best approach to use. They make nearly two revolutions around each other before they lock up in a collar and elbow tie-up. A brief struggle ensues, then ends quickly once Atlas gains the advantage with the small size difference between them. He backs Manson towards the corner, but just before he gets him there, Manson spins around and uses Atlas' momentum to back him against the turnbuckle pads. He quickly raises his leg to knee Atlas in the gut before taking his arm to whip him across the ring. As he drags Atlas out though, Sean reverses it and sees Manson running towards the other corner.

His back hits the pads and he bounces off. Wasting no time, Sean dashes towards him, and Manson uses his leg again in hopes of kicking Sean, but surprisingly enough, Atlas slides down under him, between his legs. Just as Manson's foot comes back down, Sean grabs it, then grabs the other one and pulls them both back, sweeping Manson off his feet. To the distaste of the crowd, Atlas floats over across the body of Manson and while on the mat, applies a front face lock. Bringing himself up, he forces Manson to stand as well. However, he doesn't wait for his challenger to fully stand up before lifting him in the air and dropping him back down with a Snap Suplex.

Coming back up, Atlas waits for Manson to stand up on his own. Then, taking his hand, Sean Irish whips him towards the ropes. Bouncing off, Manson comes back to Atlas, who prepares for him and jumps, leapfrogging over the running challenger. Manson runs under him, bounced off the other ropes and just as Sean turns around, Manson gets ready to dive towards him when Atlas catches his hand and flips him over onto his back with a hip toss. To follow up on it, he jumps in the air and drops a leg across Manson's chest. Shifting his body, Sean hooks his leg and goes for the pin...

...One...

...Two... NO! Manson predictably kicks out.

[Axis] Looks like you were right, King. Sean seems to be dominating the match thus far.

Atlas stands up, confident that he can dominate his opponent. He brings Manson to a standing position, pulling him up by his arm. Just as their eyes meet, Atlas bends his hand back snaps it at Manson, smacking his wrist across Manson's chest. Another chop and Manson stumbles back a bit. A third one and he takes a full step backwards to the ropes. A fourth and it's obvious that if he was not wearing a black shirt, the audience could see the crimson color of his chest. A fifth, and finally, Atlas backs off. He pushes Manson against the ropes and sends him running off again in the opposite direction. Manson comes off the ropes and sees Atlas taking a short hop, then lifting his leg in the air attempting a Superkick...

But Manson avoids it and stops, catching Sean's leg in his arms. With Atlas hopping on one foot, Manson chooses not to wait for an Enziguri attempt and instead, falls back, pulling on the champion's leg, using a Dragon Screw Legwhip to take him down. He quickly stands back up, while Sean makes it to his feet at roughly the same time. Manson is quicker however, and presses himself up against Sean, wrapping his arms around him. He locks his hands together behind Atlas' back and with a snap of his knees, lifts Atlas up and over his head with a Belly-to-Belly Suplex... slamming him down to the mat behind him!

[Axis] Hey, good offence from Manson, who the crowd is actually behind in this match.

[King] Well, he did just come back after all. And Atlas didn't do himself any favors with his earlier comments, or his belief system in general, for that matter.

Manson stands up slower than earlier, taking his time and not wasting any energy. Atlas gets to his feet as well, but Manson positioned himself behind him and slightly to the side. Coming up behind him, Manson places his arm under Sean's leg, and the other across his back to lift for a backdrop... But as he lifts, Sean escapes it and instead, slides his leg between Manson's legs, hooking the near one for a Russian Leg Sweep. Atlas bends forward to build up momentum, but just as he begins to fall back, Manson stops him and spins his body around to face Atlas, shifting his leg to Sean's other one, and hooks it. Throwing his arm across Sean's chest, Manson falls forward, driving Atlas' back into the mat, revering the Russian Leg Sweep into a Downward Spiral! He covers...

...One...

...Two...

NO! Atlas kicks out at two, surprised by the sudden burst of offence from his opponent.

[Axis] Looks like Manson may pose a challenge yet, King.

[King] Axis, how many titles has Manson held..

[Axis] ...

[King] Exactly.

Manson stands up, even before Atlas does. Bringing the champion to his feet, he swiftly kicks him in the gut, driving the wind out of him. As Atlas bends forward, Manson applies a front face lock and lifts Atlas in the air, holding him vertically. Then, with a loud thud heard throughout the arena, Manson slams Sean back down with a Front Sit-out Suplex! The crowd gives Manson a positive reaction, which surprises him but he chooses to ignore it and walk towards the turnbuckle.

Checking on Atlas, he climbs to the top rope, making sure that Sean isn't completely standing yet. He turns around, facing his opponent, anticipating the moment... He leaps off the top turnbuckle to the side, landing on the top rope to spring off. He flies through the air, thrusting his feet out in front of him and at Atlas... but Atlas sidesteps, avoiding the Springboard Dropkick, causing him to land flat on the mat!

[King] Good reaction time by the champion there.

As Manson lies face down in the ring, Sean walks over to him, standing near his head. Pulling on his shoulder-length hair, Atlas bring him up to his feet, then takes Manson's right arms with his left and twists it, wrenching it around. Suddenly, he grabs Manson's shoulder and spins him around so that his right arm is wrapped around his own neck... and Atlas drops down, slamming him into the mat with the Arm Trap Neck Breaker!

[Axis] Sean calls that maneuver the Immaculate Neckbreaker, a new signature move of his.

[King] Immaculate... I love this guy.

Sean stands up, apparently with a gamplan in mind now. He waits a moment for Manson to start coming to his feet, then runs towards the ropes parallel to his body. Sean bounces and upon his return to Manson, tries to catch his neck for a swinging Neckbreaker... and Manson bursts out and catches Atlas before he can try the move. He slides his arms under Sean's shoulders, trying trap him in a Full Nelson... and can't do it as Sean slips away, sliding under his arms behind him. With the same idea in mind, Atlas places his arms under those of Manson and successfully locks on the Full Nelson. He then lifts, holds the 205-pounder above him for a moment... and slams him down with a Full Nelson Drop!

The fans in the Staples Center jeer the move as Sean remains in his position behind the hurting Manson. He kept his arms under Manson's shoulders and now shifts them down and locks his wrists around the challenger's waist. Standing up, and dragging Manson up as a result, Atlas get to his feet and from a sitting position, shift into a rear waistlock. Suddenly, he pops his hips and lifts Manson body up... releases his grip... and executes a Release German Suplex perfectly, causing him to land halfway across the ring on his upper back!

[King] What a combination by Atlas! Compressing Manson's spine with the Full Nelson, then attacking his neck again with that Release German!

[Axis] That seems to be his strategy here - going after Manson's neck. A prelude to the Katahajime's Choke, perhaps?

[King] Don't ruin the surprise, moron.

Already standing, Atlas walks over to Manson, who remains spread out on the mat. Sean takes his hand and lifts him up to his feet. Stumbling around, Manson leans on Sean for balance, supposedly unable to stand on his own accord. Atlas grabs his arm and tugs on it, whipping Manson back... but doesn't let it go and Manson snaps back to him, chest to chest. Atlas' arms end up wrapped around Manson's waist, and he prepares to use a Belly-to-Belly Suplex... But suddenly, Manson springs to life and back away, throwing up several forearms at Atlas' head!

As the fans cheer him on, he forces the champion back several steps until he turns around to avoid the shots. Just as Sean turns back around to face his opponent though, he's met with a "Fucking Stiff" Roundhouse kick directly under the chin! The blow forces him back even farther as he falls onto the ropes, holding his jaw. The ropes push him off back towards Manson, and just as he comes near, Manson takes one step back trying a Spinning Wheel Kick...!

And Atlas catches it! Sean caught the leg of Manson before it struck him, and now holds in under his arm. Remembering that he was in the same situation just minutes earlier, Atlas doesn't go for a Dragon Screw. Instead, he takes a step toward Manson and wraps his arm around his neck in a front face lock. With the leg still in his other hand, Atlas lifts him up, attempting a Leg Capture Suplex... and drops him down on his head!

[King] Atlas adapted his move to inflict even more pain on Manson's neck, trying to wear it down!

[Axis] This could be it here, King... We don't know just how much damage that move did.

With Manson's leg still in Sean's grip, he shifts both of their positions and bridges for the cover....

...ONE...

...TWO...

...NO!!! Manson kicks out, setting off another cheer from the crowd.

[King] That Manson is a relentless son of a bitch.

[Axis] That he is. He prides himself on taking a lot of punishment, and despite the ring rust and no real control of the match thus far, Manson can hang with Atlas in there to the very end.

His anger growing, Atlas comes to his feet, standing near Manson's head. Atlas takes a moment to stare at the fans, many of whom are still cheering for Manson. He looks around, then faces one particular side and flips them off, setting of a horde of boos. With his middle finger still up, Atlas brings his hand to his head, then his chest, then one shoulder and finally, the other. The disrespect to the holy symbol sets off another round of boos, and a faint "Asshole" chant which is bound to grow. With all the fans completely against him now, Sean is satisfied and brings his attention back to Manson.

[Axis] See, normally I like Atlas. His workrate, strategy, and decisions like joining Magnificent Seven are great, in my opinion. But when he does things like that, I can't help but lose respect for him.

[King] That doesn't bother me as much as the fact that he wasted time by doing that, allowing Manson to rest...

Atlas brings Manson up by his head and neck, using even small movements to attack the neck. With a groggy opponent in front of him, Atlas pulls his own arm back again and snaps it *smack* chopping Manson in the chest again. *smack* A second one, and Manson is forced back, nearly falling over. *smack* A third chop, and Manson's body tilts backwards, about to fall when Atlas catches him by the shirt he adorns. Furiously, Atlas grab's the shirt's collar and rips it straight down the middle, exposing Manson's bare chest! *SMACK* The sound of flesh on flesh echoes through the arena, as the already red chest of Manson grows deeper with every *SMACK*.

He's forced back into the corner, leaning against the turnbuckle pads. Staring Manson directly in his face, Sean takes his arm and walks back, whipping him across the ring. Manson runs and crashes into the opposite turnbuckle pads with his back. as he tries to get a sense of his surroundings, he can feel the ring shaking beneath him and notices Atlas charging directly at him...

And Manson jumps! As Atlas runs into nothing but the turnbuckle behind where Manson stood, Manson comes down behind him and uses the great opportunity to sneak up next to him, lift Sean's leg and spread his own arm out on Atlas' back. With a strong lift, Manson takes Atlas off his feet and slams him down with a Side Suplex. The fans that were booing Atlas moments ago now cheer for Manson, fully turning him into the de facto fan favorite in this match.

[Axis] I knew Manson had more in him!

[King] But how much is in there, exactly?

Adrenaline charging him up, Manson gets to his feet quickly. Atlas stands up just as fast though and takes Manson's arm. Pulling back, he tries whipping him towards the far ropes... but Manson reverses it, sending Sean running. Atlas comes off the ropes while Manson stands, waiting him. Completely confident, Sean charges at him and just before he reaches him, Atlas leaps up, going for the Lou Thesz Press... and lands on Manson's chest, forcing him back...! But Manson reverses it, catching him in the air, and slams Atlas down with The Spinal Tap!!! Manson pushes back on Sean's legs, pinning him while referee Hall counts....

...ONE...

...TWO...

...NO!!!!! Atlas kicks out bringing his shoulder off the canvas and pulls his legs away.

[King] Unbelievable! Manson comes out of nowhere with that reversal, and Atlas still keeps himself in the match!

[Axis] Let's not count him out yet, King. For all we know, Manson used the time off to train and get even better.

[King] Oh, please. Don't you remember how he was injured by a simple Tornado DDT last year? Why do you think Atlas is attacking his neck in the first place?

[Axis] It wasn't just the DDT. He suffered two Vertebreakers right after it, further compounding the injury.

[King] You just better hope he healed up well.

Disappointed, Manson stands up and walks towards Sean's head. Taking his head, he brings the champion to a standing position. Suddenly, he pulls his own arm back and in revenge for the shops from Atlas, hits some of his own! *smack* The sound of his wrist hitting Atlas resonates through the arena, as the fans "Whoo!" after it, going so for him rather than Atlas. *smack* Goes his hand and "Whoo!" go the fans. He doesn't keep it up for long though, and quickly starts to use his forearm instead. He forces Sean back, with the ropes still far away from him. Another forearm and an elbow later, and Atlas walks away, stumbling, leaning on the ropes. Manson runs up to him and leaves his feet, driving an knee into Atlas' gut!

[Axis] Fucking Stiff Knees from Manson!

Manson grabs the top rope and sends his knee into Atlas’ gut repeatedly, driving the air out of him. Finally, he backs away and with Sean doubled over, hooks both of his arms. he looks around at the crowd, noticing their continuous cheers. He then leans forward drop back, slamming Atlas down with a Double Arm DDT! Sean lands flat on his face, hardly moving after having his face driven into the canvas. Quickly, Manson rolls him over onto his back and motions for the cover... but backs away, realizing it wouldn't be enough. Instead, he walks over to Sean's leg and applies a standing scissor lock. He falls back, lying down next to Sean, successfully applying the Crucifix Kneebar!

[King] No, he's got Sean's leg locked in!

Manson pulls back on the leg, trying to hyperextend the knee... Atlas yells in agony, often glancing over at Manson, who lies next to him on an angle... He keeps putting more and more torque on the hold, exerting more screaming from Atlas... The referee lies near the two, asking if Atlas wants to quit, to give up the match, to lose his title... Sean keeps denying him though and forces himself to go on... Suddenly, he reaches across to Manson, trying to somehow grab him... Though it puts more pain on his knee, he moves closer to his opponent, taking his arm. Using it, he pulls Manson closer, and finally forces Manson to let the hold go. Immediately, Atlas hooks the arm from behind, then wraps Manson's neck with his other arm, successfully locking on the KATAHAJIME!!!

[Axis] Sean Atlas reverses the Crucifix Knee bar into his finishing Submission, the Katahajime Choke!

[King] This is it, Axis! He's about to retain here!

Atlas shakes Manson's around, on the canvas, counting his back to get a better angle on the Katahajime... The referee now begins to pester Manson about submitting and ending the match here and now... But Manson, unable to either shake his head, grunts out something similar enough to "No"... Fortunately for him, the ropes are not all that far away... Atlas' position prevents him from pulling the challenger back so he tightens his grip, moving every once in a while to avoid Manson's flailing arm... Manson edges close to the ropes under a foot away while referee Hall asks him again is he's ready to quit... Manson says nothing except incoherent grunts and moans while trying to make it to the tope... He's almost there...

Coming closer...

Closer...

His hand drops...

...Drops across the bottom rope, as he grips it tightly, escaping the vicious submission hold. Furious, Atlas lets him go and comes to his feet, pissed off at his opponent's tireless efforts.

[Axis] Sean is livid!

[King] Maybe, but he better know what to do now...

Walking over to his tired opponent, Atlas takes his feet and drags him out to the center of the ring. Walking around to his head, Atlas brings him to a half-standing position. He ducks down and takes Manson's leg in his Left hand. With his right, Atlas hooks the challenger's head and uses his back to lift Manson across his shoulders in a fireman's carry...

[King] That's it! Saint's Demise!

Atlas shifts Manson around on his shoulders and walks around, turning to face the members of the crowd as he's been doing lately, making sure they are all watching… He leans to the side about to finish the match...

But gets his own head driven into the mat!!! Manson, from the fireman's carry, reversed Sean's attempts and executed a DDT on the European Champion!!

[Axis] Manson escapes it! He's now gotten out of both of Sean's finishers!

[King] No.. Atlas can do more.. He has to...

Manson comes to his feet with the fans cheering him on. Not reacting to the positive crowd at all, Manson rolls Atlas over onto his back and drags him towards the corner. His footing is poor and he barely makes it there without falling over. Manson then steps under the top rope and over the middle one, getting to the apron. He takes a step onto the bottom rope, then the middle. Checking on Sean once more, he climbs to the top rope with one foot and takes a moment to get his balance right...

[Axis] That has to be...

[King] No...

[Axis] The Shooting Star Press! Manson's about to win the European Title here!

Finally Manson gets to the top rope with both feet and looks at Sean twitching on the ring mat. He holds the top rope for balance and before standing up, he finally looks around at the crowd, reacting to their support for him for the first time in the entire match. He looks right, and hears cheers. Looks left, and sees the same Finally, he looks over the ring and across to the fans ahead, seeing hundreds of fans on their feet. Surprised at all of them, Manson finally elevates himself, standing on the top turnbuckle pad. Without even looking at Atlas he bends his knees...

Atlas kicks up...

Manson leaps off...

And he lands on top of Atlas...!

Atop his shoulders, that is! Sean catches him in a Fireman's Carry!!!

In the time that Manson admires the crowd, Atlas rested and just before the challenger leaped off the top, Sean stood up, somehow catching the 205-pounder just as he was twisting backwards for the Shooting Star Press! Holding him firmly across his shoulders, Atlas stumbles back and nearly falls down...! But he keeps his balance, adjusts the fireman's carry and finally, jumps, falls to the side, DRIVING MANSON DOWN HEAD-FIRST INTO THE CANVAS!

[King] SAINT'S...

[Axis] ...DEMISE!

Atlas covers, Hall counts...

...ONE...

Sean hooks the leg for insurance...

...TWO...

He forces more weight down on Manson...

...THREE!!!!!!

Hall’s arm goes down and Manson's arm goes up, but it's too late.

*DING DING DING*

"The winner of this bout, and still the EUROPEAN CHAMPION... SEAN ATLAS!!!"

"Polyamorous" blasts in the arena and Atlas rolls off, successfully retaining his title.

[King] What an insane counter! Atlas waited for the perfect moment and kicked up, caught, him in mid-motion, and executed his finisher to retain the belt!

[Axis] Unbelievable. Just unreal... Manson reacting to the cheers did him in.

[King] And the night still isn't over. We've got more action coming your way with Spike Jenkins vs the Maori Badass, Va'aiga for World Title Contendership up next!

[Axis] And after that, it's Crow against Dace Night, followed by the rematch between Janus and Mike Van Siclen in a Caged Fury Match!

Fade Out.

March 10, 2003

Funyon: The next match is scheduled for one fall, and is a number one contender match for the SJL World Title! Introducing first, weighing in at 285lbs, from Rotorua, Aotearoa, The Maori Badass, VAAAAAAAAA’AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIGAAAAAAAAA!

“You know what time it be…” signals the start of “Strike It” by Dub War and Va’aiga strolls into the entrance area, then starts a slow, focused and deliberate walk into the ring, accepting a few slaps on the back form his adoring public. Va’aiga slides under the bottom rope and the smell of fresh pyrotechnics fills the Staples centre as Va’aiga drops the Maori handsign in the middle of the line “Strike It!... while the iron is hot” and the crowd cheers the big Maori’s dramatic entrance. Shots of assorted Maori violence and the massive tattooed figure of the Maori Badass fade from the SmarkTron and the arena goes silent briefly.

“FUCK THAT!” starts victim by Nonpoint as Hollywood Spike Jenkins enters the arena. Va’aiga stares down the entrance ramp and then smiles to himself and beckons Spike into the ring with a hand gesture.

Funyon: And his opponent, weighing in at 220lbs, from Hollywood, California, he is HOLLYWOOD SPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE JEEEEEEEEEEEENKIIIIIIIIINS.

Spike saunters casually into the ring and meticulously takes off his leather jacket, allowing all the fans a good look at his body. Spike poses in the middle of the ring and the crowd cheers wildly as Va’aiga hits a rugby tackle, spearing Spike down hard from behind to open the match. The bell rings and Va’aiga stands and poses for the crowd.

Axis: Va’aiga not waiting around long to get this match started.

Suicide King: He’s cheating Axis! He started early! He’s cheating!

Axis: You normally approve of cheating, King.

Suicide King: Yeah but Spike should sue for gimmick infringement.

Va’aiga allows Spike to stand and beckons the Hollywood star to take the second shot of the match on his massively built chest. Spike warms up a massive knife edge chop, and the big Maori reels back a few paces with the force of the impact. Spike poses to the crowd and flexes his muscles, causing a few scattered screams from the women in the Staples Center, and Va’aiga rushes forward and lariats Spike HARD down to the ground, mouthing an inaudible “Just Kidding” to the crowd.

Axis: Va’aiga trying to outthink and out psyche Spike Jenkins here.

Suicide King: The Maori Dumbass matching wits with Spike Jenkins? I don’t fancy his chances really.

Va’aiga waits for Spike to get up and then locks in a collar and elbow tie up. Va’aiga quickly overpowers the Hollywood one, segueing quicklt into a tight side headlock. The Maori Badass flexes his muscles, using his massive pythons to crush into the throat of Spike Jenkins, but Spike shoots the big Maori off into the ropes. Va’aiga uses the momentum to rebound at Spike shaping for a shoulder block, but Spike drops flat down on the mat and Va’aiga is forced to leap over the cruiserweight star and his momentum carries his massive 285lb frame into the ropes on the other side of the ring. Again Va’aiga rebounds into the middle towards Spike, who kips up out of the path of Va’aiga and then drops down, drop toeholding his Maori opponent face first into the mat. The whole ring shakes with the impact of Va’aiga bouncing off the canvas, and Spike allows himself a little brush through his hair with his hand. Spike straps on a legbar keeping Va’aiga on the mat.

Axis: Keeping the big man off his feet may be the best tactic for Spike, given the size and power disadvantage standing up.

Suicide King: Of all the things you accuse Spike Jenkins of, Axis, you can’t accuse him of not working to a sound strategy.

Axis: That I can’t, King.

Va’aiga maneuvers his other leg round and locks in an arm scissor on one of Spike’s arms, but Spike wriggles free and floats round into an ankle pick. Va’aiga rolls over loosening the pick and hops up onto his other leg, Spike still holding onto the ankle. Va’aiga aims an axe kick at the head of Spike, but the canny Jenkins ducks and waits for Va’aiga’s free leg to land then scoops it out with his free arm, dropping Va’aiga back to the mat. Va’aiga grits his teeth and uses his stomach muscles to crunch up to a sitting position, and from there Va’aiga reaches an arm round Spike’s neck and drops backwards, making Spike relinquish his grip on Va’aiga’s ankle. Spike cleverly bridges up, forcing Va’aiga’s shoulders to the mat and Matthew Kivell leaps down to put on a count

ONE!

TWO!

Va’aiga rolls over leaving Spike stomach first on the mat and changing the focus of his neck hold to a rear chinlock.

Axis: Va’aiga showing that he’s more than a simple power wrestler here.

Suicide King: Va’aiga is mat wrestling with Spike! I see it, but I don’t believe it.

Spike reaches one of his arms round and digs his fingernails into Va’aiga’s arm, and the massive Maori instinctively loosens his grip, allowing Spike to reach backwards with his other arm and grab enough of Va’aiga’s tights to roll him back over, then hook a leg for a back press. Matthew Kivell drops to count.

ONE!

TWO!

Va’aiga easily throws Spike off and stands, dusting himself down. Spike stands just in time for Va’aiga to launch himself against the ropes and fire off a shoulder block, but Spike takes a half step backwards as Va’aiga hits him, and rolls Va’aiga through with the impact, using an inside cradle on the big Maori to place him in a pinfall predicament.

ONE!

TWO!

Suicide King: You know I think Spike is going for quick covers again, just to make Va’aiga lose his temper.

Axis: Folks let’s take you back to last week’s match when that tactic worked.

As Va’aiga and Spike stand and Va’aiga rocks Spike with a sequence of massive clubbing forearms, picture in picture cuts in showing highlights of Spike repeatedly cradling Va’aiga, and Va’aiga’s furious post match attacks on security guards, frustrated with Spike suckering him into a DQ.

Suicide King: Spike Jenkins is a clever wrestler. Impulsive ass kicking Maori meatheads are just at SO much of a disadvantage.

Meanwhile as the picture concentrates back on the ring Va'aiga launches a massive ham like fist into Spike Jenkins’ jaw, rocking the Hollywood star backwards and knocking the spit loose from his mouth. Another massive left cross punch sends Spike reeling backwards again, and a third rocks him against the ropes, Spike standing crucifix style on the ropes grabbing hold of the ropes either side of him to stabilize his shaky balance. Va’aiga draws back his right fist, gives it a kiss for luck and smashes a solid right hook onto Spike’s jaw, and the King of the World flies over the ropes and crumples in a heap outside the ring, missing the apron by a clear 3 foot.

Axis: What a punch! What a strike!

Suicide King: What a jib. That was clearly a closed fist, and that’s clearly cheating.

Axis: If you were Matthew Kivell, would you complain to Va’aiga?

Suicide King: If I was Matthew Kivell I wouldn’t be a pretty, sexy, intelligent, witty and altogether great guy!

Va’aiga follows Spike out to the ringside area, and goes for an arm of Spike, but Spike counters with a lightning fast eye rake to take control of the whip situation, and he uses Va’aiga’s weight as a lever, whipping the big Maori into the guardrail. Spike leaps to the apron and launches himself off backwards, back kicking Va’aiga so the big leaning back over the guardrail, then Hollywood leaps quickly back to the ring apron and hits a revolving leg drop sending Va’aiga spilling into the first row of the audience. Spike hops onto the ring apron showing cat like agility and moonsaults off it, flattening Va’aiga across a row of chairs! Spike rushes back into the ring, as Matthew Kivell reaches 5 on his long slow ten count, and poses again for the crowd.

SIX!

Axis: I think that Spike Jenkins would be happy to win by count out here tonight.

Suicide King: Any win is a win Axis!

SEVEN!

Spike: KING OF THE WORLD!

EIGHT!

Va'aiga crawls over the guardrail, landing on his feet…

NINE!

Va’aiga grabs hold of the bottom rope and drags himself into the ring

TE…. And Va’aiga is back in the ring again. Spike meanwhile is looking the other way and celebrating, as referee Kivell taps him on the shoulder and orders the pair to engage in fighting again. Spike protests that the referee counted to ten, but the ref shows nine fingers to him. Spike holds his hands out showing ten, and Va’aiga, slowly back on his feet grabs the ref by the shoulder and asks the referee to show eight fingers.

Suicide King: Eight? Now even a referee knows that was nine! Where’s the ninth…

Va’aiga shows Spike the ninth finger in the equation by extending his middle finger and thrusting the bird outwards towards Spike. The crowd cheers madly at the show of disrespect from Va’aiga, and Spike pouts.

Suicide King: Spike has every right to be pissed off with that.

Axis: He’s just a big cry baby, King.

Suicide King: Va’aiga needs to learn how to show some respect.

Spike looks Va’aiga right in the eye and lashes a chop into the chest of Va’aiga…

Suicide King: Some people NEVER learn…

…and Va’aiga lariats him down to the mat, Spike bouncing a few inches off the canvas from the impact.

Va’aiga: MY HOUSE!

Suicide King: Va’aiga must by John D Rockefeller to own so many houses.

Axis: I think Va’aiga implies that anywhere he is, he owns.

Suicide King: Well, duh. You always miss my clever jokes. Only jokes you know are about men from Nantucket anyway.

Va’aiga lifts Spike up to his feet and slides behind the Hollywood King, before lifting and planting Jenkins with an awesome looking German Suplex, Spike selling Kawada style by remaining folded on the mat for a few seconds before starfishing out on the mat. Va’aiga covers and Matthew Kivell counts…

ONE!

TWO!

THR… and Spike lifts a shoulder. Va’aiga picks Spike up by the waist and throws him over a shoulder, slamming him back down to the mat hard.

Va’aiga: OH YEAH!

Va’aiga drops a leg on Spike and thinks about covering, but instead picks Spike up again, throwing a pair of elbows to Spike’s head to leave the cruiserweight a little stunned. Va’aiga locks Spike into a bearhug, then spins him round and down with an orbital belly to belly suplex. Va’aiga holds on to cover, but Matthew Kivell is a little slow getting round.

Axis: Look at the torque on that move, King.

Suicide King: Yeah yeah yeah.

ONE!

TWO!

THR… and Spike wriggles a shoulder free to break the pin. Va’aiga gives Mathew Kivell a cold stare before lifting spike up again and hitting a Maori Whip on Spike. Va’aiga waits for Spike to rebound, then with a sharp ke-ailike exhalation and shout, Va’aiga spins Spike round tilt-a-whirl style onto his shoulder, but Spike counters as he is lifted into a powerbomb position by using the move’s momentum against Va’aiga, taking him down with a satellite head scissors!

Suicide King: Looks like Spike had the Spin Cycle well scouted.

Axis: He got hit by it last week, and this week he countered that dangerous move.

Suicide King: Spike Jenkins is a smart, smart man.

Spike quickly drops his 420 legdrop across the fallen Va’aiga and covers…

ONE!

TWO!

THR… and Va’aiga lifts a shoulder. Spike lifts Va’aiga up so the big Maori is facing away from him and reaches across the thick set bullet like neck of the Maori badass, dropping him back down to the canvas with an Inverted DDT. Spike runs at the ropes and forward rolls into a high rolling senton. Spike stays in a back press to cover…

ONE!

TWO!

TH… and Va’aiga kicks out again.

Axis: Spike turning up the pressure here. Spike Jenkins seems a little more driven this week.

Suicide King: I think Spike really wants that gold belt. If I were a wrestler here, I’d want it too. It’s a strong motivation, Axis.

Spike drops to a stalking pose and the crowd rewards him with a round of boos. Spike eggs the crowd on, channeling their negative emotion by stomping his leg, signaling for the Magnum! Va’aiga stands slowly, and Spike fires off the kick, but Va’aiga ducks it, and traps Spike’s leg, hitting a powerful Capture Suplex!

Axis: I guess Va’aiga has Spike trademark moves down as well King.

Suicide King: He got lucky.

Va’aiga keeps spike on the canvas and turns over, grabbing hold of Spike’s legs and wrenching them upwards, sitting back in the Maori Crab! Spike screams in anguish as Va’aiga applies the maximum amount of pressure to the hold that his 285lb frame can muster. Va’aiga gives a clenched teeth growl of effort as Spike’s legs and lower back take the full wrenching that this move can muster. Spike’s face slowly turns to a shade of red, contrasting pointedly with his dirty blonde hair as the deadly crab hold causes all his muscles to tense and stretch in ways the human body is not generally meant to.

Axis: This Maori Crab affect five different muscle groups, not to mention tendons and ligaments.

Suicide King: OK don’t mention tendons and ligaments.

Axis: What I’m pointing out to these fans is this is one dangerous hold.

Suicide King: I know. I’ve been put in a full crab before, and it’s not pleasant in the slightest. It’s also a hard hold to worm free from, it’s a lot easier to guts it out or counter than to wriggle out.

Va’aiga leans back again in the ring, causing the levels of pain wracking Spike to increase just that little bit more. Spike extends an arm thinking about tapping out, but he guts it out in the hold, keeping control of himself a little more. Frustration mixes with the foort on Va’aiga’s face and he calls out.

Va’aiga: C’mon tap… TAP!

Matthew Kivell goes round to Spike and asks him if he wants to quit out, but Spike shakes his head in a definite no. 10 seconds later, with the hold still applied Kivell asks again and again the talented Jenkins says no.

Suicide King: You watch. Va’aiga is gonna lose patience with this hold and break it. He just doesn’t have the temperament to be a world class wrestler. If I was applying a submission hold, I’d lock it in until the tap was coming.

Va’aiga wrenches and wrenches, but Spike’s determination and gold lust prevents him from tapping out. Finally Va’aiga just drops Spike out of the hold and stands over him.

Va’aiga: DAMN!

Suicide King: See I told you Axis. No composure.

Va’aiga lifts Spike off the ground, and the Hollywood star grabs his aching back and winces, clearly in some pain. Va’aiga lifts Spike up onto his shoulders and quickly drops Spike down with a rough release powerbomb!

Va’aiga: BITCH!

Axis: Va’aiga did release the hold maybe a touch early, but you have to admit that’s a hell of a plan B!

Va’aiga has the steely look of pure determination on his face, tinged with a touch of Maori rage as he looks at the fallen Spike Jenkins and snarls. Va’aiga lifts Spike up in a military press and drops Spike down so he’s across the massive Maori chest. Va’aiga backs up to the ropes to give him space for the running Maori drop, but Spike grabs hold of the ropes with his arms and legs and swings backwards over the ropes, sending Va’aiga cartwheeling down to the floor, while dropping himself on the ring apron allowing the King of the World to roll back into the ring.

Axis: An innovative counter to the running Maori Drop there King.

Suicide King: And an effective one too

Va’aiga clambers back into the ring but Spike takes the advantage back by smashing his foot into the side of the Maori’s head as he rolls into the ring again. Spike picks Va’aiga up and whips him into the corner on the opposite side of the ring. Spike sets himself for a run up and handsprings looking for his double kick, but Va’aiga composes himself and swats one leg aside, stepping in between spike’s flailing limbs and grabbing him by the waist, then walks out of the corner and kneels into an inverted powerbomb! Va’aiga covers and Matthew Kivell drops down to count

ONE!

TWO!

THR… and Spike kicks out. The apir both stand together and Spike launches a punch at Va’aiga’s chest. Va’aiga counters with a punch of his own. Spike punches again, Va’aiga punches again, and then spike, realizing that he has no chance of winning a stand up battle knees Va’aiga FIRMLY in the southern lower abdominals, doubling up the big Maori. A previously unsighted Matthew Kivell stares at Spike and accuses him of hitting a low blow, but Spike indicates than he hit Va’aiga in the chest.

Axis: That was a low blow King, and the ref never saw it.

Suicide King: If the ref didn’t see it, it wasn’t a low blow.

Spike rolls Va’aiga out of the fetal position and down for a cover.

ONE!

TWO!

TH.. and Va’aiga kicks out. Spike stands and beckons Va’aiga to stand up, and as Va’aiga reaches his knees Spike fires a stiff kick into the side of the Maori’s cranium. Spike follows with a second kick, then draws back a half step before unleashing an shining enzuigiri of truly vicious proportions! Spike covers…

ONE!

TWO!

THR.. and Va’aiga kicks out.

Axis: The Dangerous Wizard may not have put Va’aiga out, but it’s sure put him down.

Suicide King: You know considering that Va’aiga is so much bigger and stronger than Spike, and Spike is so much the better wrestler, this has been a very balanced match.

Axis: I guess the two factors just cancel each other out, King.

Suicide King: Well you agree that Spike is a better wrestler then.

Axis: Spike is the more technically inclined wrestler King.

Suicide King: That’s a yes then.

Spike leaps onto the ropes, clutching his back a little, and stops for a half second to see if Va’aiga has got up, and with the answer being no he hits a quebrada, landing on Va’aiga’s prone body with considerable impact. Spike stays in position to cover.

ONE!

TWO!

TH… and Va’aiga lifts a shoulder.

Suicide King: See how he didn’t grab for a leg that time. A good wrestler ALWAYS hooks a leg.

Spike drags Va’aiga to his feet, clutching his back as he does, before feigning to run past Va’aiga and then taking a step back, wrapping his arm around the big Maori’s head and dropping him with the Phantom Neckbreaker! Spike follows up with another leg drop and another cover…

ONE!

TWO!

THR… and Va’aiga lifts a shoulder again.

Axis: Spike has to be wondering what he has to do to keep this Maori Badass down.

Suicide King: I think he has to cheat! Not that I encourage that sort of behavior. Oh hell, OF COURSE I do.

Spike looks skywards, maybe for inspiration, and then begins an inexorably slow climb to the top rope, fatigue showing on his face. Spike looks down and waits for his massive opponent to reach his feet, and leaps off looking for a high cross body… and Va’aiga catches him and drops him straight down with a snap MAORI DROP! Va’aiga holds on

ONE!

TWO!

THRE… and at the last millisecond Spike lifts his shoulder. Both wrestlers lie spark out on the mat and Matthew Kivell puts on a ten count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX… and Spike gets to his feet first, wincing with pain.

SEVEN!

Suicide King: IS Spike gonna win by knockout? Did Va’aiga take it all out of himself with the power of his own move?

EIGHT!

NINE!

T… and Va’aiga just beats the count and gets to his feet.

Suicide King: Whew that was a close one Axis.

Axis: It was indeed. The crowd is hyped up, and on the edge of their seats.

The crowd start a massive “VAY-IN-GUH!” chat encouraging the big Maori to stand up to Spike, and Va’aiga approaches the cunning cruiser. Spike circles, and when he is sure that the referee doesn’t have an angle to see what he’s up to he floor Va’aiga again with an uppercut low blow! Va’aiga drops like a stone down to the canvas and the crowd falls silent again.

Axis: That was another blatant low blow.

Suicide King: Why can’t all wrestlers follow my advice like Spike does? Spike Jenkins is STILL my favorite SJL superstar.

Spike lifts Va’aiga up into an inverted DDT position again, and this time instead of just dropping the massive Maori straight down, he spins him round into a cutter like ending, and drops the pair back to the mat!

Axis: Spike just Rolled the Joint! This is normally the setup for the Silver Lining!

Spike attempts to lock on his submission hold but Va’aiga rolls him over as Spike goes for the rear mount putting Spike in an impromptu back press….

ONE!

TWO!

THR… and Spike rolls out of the pinning predicament. Spike takes his time getting to his feet, while Va’aiga just lays there on his back, sucking wind.

Axis: Va’aiga looks gone, King:

Suicide King: It’s been a long match Axis, and that would favor the smaller guy.

Spike grabs hold of an arm of the massive Maori and wrenches him to his feet, his every facial muscle straining with the agony of trying to lift a man carrying a 65lb weight advantage while fatigue and the stress of a long wrestling match sets into his system. Spike launches Va’aiga cornerwards with an Irish whip, aiming carefully so referee Matthew Kivell gets the full force of the oversized southern hemisphere resident bouncing into his referee shirted frame. Kivell slumps on the corner post, body looking a little limp and lifeless, trapped fast behind the weight of a whipped Maori. Spike sees the opportunity and charges in, hitting a flying body press, extending his chest onto Va’aiga’s and using his momentum to press the larger superstar into the cold hard steel of the turnbuckle and the body of the similarly slumped referee. Va’aiga drops to the canvas, breathing hard and Kivell drops semi lifeless to the mat himself.

Suicide King: Did you see that Axis? Va’aiga hit the referee. Why if I was on the official committee I’d have him disqualified and fined. I’m not even sure he’s paid off the fine from last week!

Axis: Well last week in the fit of rage Va'aiga did attack some of the refereeing corps here, but I assure you King the referee attack this week is either accidental, or the fault of Spike Jenkins.

Suicide King: Why would Spike want to attack a referee… oh wait I SEE…

Spike observes the situation in the ring, with Va’aiga down and Matthew Kivell nearly out and decides to himself, after a celebratory pose to the crowd which draws a wholly expected round of boos, to finish the match off in a not entirely legal fashion. Spike walks calmly to the outside, past the commentators desk, exchanging a brief round of greetings with Suicide King…

Suicide King: What a courteous wrestler.

…and finally stopping at Funyon’s seat, Spike shoos the stylish ring announcer off his chair, picks it up, shows it to the crowd while folding it in a deliberate motion and walks back to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope and posing in the center of the ring with an insincere smile and a wave of the chair to the crowd, who again boo. Spike draws breath and stalks the fallen Va’aiga before making an announcement to the crowd…

Spike Jenkins: I’m gonna break his nose!

Suicide King: I LOVE this move, it’s simple, it’s brutal, it’s illegal and it’s always effective.

Spike holds the chair up, smiling with evil intent directed towards Va’aiga. Spike waits and waits, letting the crowd heat build and Va’aiga slowly gather his senses. The big Maori slowly stands, still looking a little groggy and Spike lines up the chair with the facial features of his badass opponent. Spike throws the chair for Va’aiga to catch and launches a pinpoint accurate spin kick at Va’aiga… who takes a step backwards and watches the flashy kick miss his chair covered face by a clear 6 inches. Va’aiga’s grin returns to his face for the first time in a long period of the match as he looks at Spike.

Suicide King: Except when that happens. I mean it just arms your opponent with a chair.

Spike shakes his head vigorously as Va’aiga turns the chair round in his hands, begging for mercy from the notoriously violent Maori. Va’aiga pantomimes to the crowd…

Axis: Spike Jenkins is at the mercy of Va’aiga now.

Suicide King: Va’aiga’s a popular guy. He wouldn’t stoop so low as to use a chair while the referee is down, would he?

Spike places his arms out and shakes his head again, screaming out a massive “NO!” to Va’aiga, but this only causes the Maori to grin even broader, well aware he’s in full control of the situation.

Suicide King: Would he?

Va’aiga motions to drop the chair and Spike wipes his brow in relief and drops his arms for just long enough for Va’aiga to resume his wind up and, like Sammy Sosa swatting an offspeed pitch for a home run or Brian Lara pulling an under pitched ball over square leg for six, SPLAT the chair against Spike’s unprotected head. Spike drops to the canvas like a stone and as Matthew Kivell shakes some life into his woozy head Va’aiga drops down and plants a hand onto Spike’s prone chest, lifting the other into the air to count along with the referee and the crowd...

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!!!

“Strike It!” fires up again as Va’aiga drops his hand sign before walking slowly out of the ring, making the universal “I want the belt” sign around his waist. Matthew Kivell looks at the chair, buckled out of shape, and shrugs, throwing it out of the ring.

Axis: Well I guess Va’aiga WOULD use a chair King, but Spike Jenkins brought the chair in and the plan totally backfired. That was one of the most vicious and brutal chair shots this wrestling company has ever seen.

Suicide King: And I speak for all the millions of Hollywood Spike Jenkins fans around the world feel cheated by that result Axis, and I know you should too.

March 10, 2003

SJL Wrath is interrupted momentarily as the Smarktron fizzles before lighting up again to show the backstage area of the arena, or more precisely the cafeteria-esque room that serves food. From the camera's point of view, the only person here is the mammoth Janus, who has the Junior League World title over his shoulder. Stepping past empty chairs, the giant stops at the coffee machine, pressing a few buttons and picking up the resultant beverage. The camera pans to get a look at the giant's expression as, with a slight smile, he sips his coffee...

...and a blurry form leaning against the opposing wall is caught by the camera, and the image sharpens.....it's CROW! The sudden cheers of the crowd, dimly audible in the cafeteria, make Janus cock his head and stare at the camera in front of him, before turning around. Across the length of the cafeteria, Crow takes a drag of his cigarette and exhales with a low 'whuff' sound, before eyeing the giant with his nearly black eyes. It's Janus who speaks first however.

Janus: ".....Crow."

The leather-jacketed Adelaidian nods his head slightly, taking another drag of his cigarette as Janus sips his coffee.

Crow: "......Terrence."

The crowd 'ooooo's at the pained expression that sticks to Janus' face for a moment, and the giant suppresses a tremor of rage as he glares at one of the people who would be in a number one contender's match later that night. Crow just cocks his head in a rather birdlike manner, then exhales in the giant's direction, the smoke wafting into the air of the cafeteria.

Janus: "...What did you call me...?"

Crow: ".....Your real name."

Janus: "That IS NOT MY NAME!!"

The giant's sudden explosion doesn't impact on Crow's mood at all, as he just takes another drag of his cigarette and looks at the infuriated giant in front of him. Flicking his cigarette BUTT away, Crow exhales a bit of smoke and takes a step forward.

Crow: "Why do you keep lying to yourself...?"

He took another step..

Crow: "More importantly, why LIE TO ME...."

Crow pauses, as Janus has also advanced, and the two stand scant centimetres apart, staring into each other's eyes. Janus takes a breath, a low growl emanating from his throat, and Crow breaths the last of the smoke right up into the giant's face. Janus doesn't even blink, a fine tremor running through his massive frame - and finally, Crow smiles faintly and pats the giant's shoulder.

Crow: "We both know you'll beat Mike tonight. I'll see you in the squared circle soon, Terrence..."

With that said, the avian-named superstar turned and walked lazily out of the cafeteria, leaving Janus seemingly trembling in rage, the giant's hand tightening around the styrofoam cup that contains his coffee. Rather than crush the offending cup, the giant abruptly throws the beverage holder at the cafeteria door, splashing coffee everywhere as he literally roars.

Janus: "MY NAME IS JANUS, YOU FUCKING BIRD! I CAN KILL YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME!!?!!?"

Before anyone can catch any more of Janus' violent reaction, the Smarks Junior League World Champion glares at the camera and storms out of the cafeteria as we cut back to ringside.....

March 10, 2003

Funyon stands in the ring, as the cameras come back to SJL Wrath in the Staples Centre, LA.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," He booms out, "The following match is standing match for one fall. And will be for the number on e contendership to the SJL World Title!"

The crowd bursts into cheers.

"So many contenderships being decided tonight Axis. But in LA? Isn't this one going to end up in a DQ when someone comes through on a drive by shooting?" King questions.

"Are you thinking of the right place King? And if that did happen, they'd be gunning for you I'm sure." Axis replies.

"I think you're rather harder to miss Axis." King says evilly.

"Too bad they can't shoot egos." Axis puts back.

"Introducing first, Anchorage, Alaska, he weighs in at two hundred and thirty one pounds, he is the Antichrist Superstar, ladies and gentlemen, this is ... CROW!"

Natural Born Chaos tears into life, filling the area as the boos start raining down.

The ever present cigarette makes a pin point of light as Crow makes his way out into the arena.

Standing, with arms spread in a crucifix, he just smiles at the hatred of the crowd, taking it all in, before he steps into the ring. Stubbing his cigarette out on the turnbuckle, Crow flicks it casually into the front row.

"Crow still looks like those wounds haven't fully healed, even from last time around, Dace will be sure to take advantage of that." Axis points out.

"Yes, because Dace doesn't have a chance, and will have to use every underhanded trick he can dream up to put some brave guy like Crow down." Snarls King.

"And his opponent, from Birmingham, England, he weighs in at two hundred and fifty four pounds, ladies and gentlemen, he is Horrorcore, he is .. DACE NIGHT!"

Winds of Creation punches a hole through the arena walls as Dace struts out, under the cheering of the fans, glad to see him back again.

Shrugging his trench coat off onto the entry way floor, Dace steps between the ropes, and turns to every side of the crowd, calling them on.

"And here's the reaction for Dace Night, these LA fans glad to see him back after that short break."

"What the hell was that one for anyway Axis? Anyone care to fill me in?"

"You're meant to be the one with all these ties to management King, and the ones upstairs, you tell me."

Both men glare at each other from across the ring, two sides of the same coin, black on black, scares on blood, Goth on Goth.

Waving to Funyon, Dace takes the house mic.

"Oh no, he's going to speak, quick, go to commercials, please someone." King cries out mockingly.

"Alright Birdy?" Dace grins as Crow glares back, furious. "Happy to see me back are you?"

Dace waves the mic towards Crow's face.

"Fucking thrilled mate." Crow spits.

"Now, now Crow, that's no way to talk on live TV. Have some manners." Dace chids.

"What the hell are you upto? Drop this bullshit and fight me you stuck up limey prick." Crow growls.

"Say something like that again and I'll nut you into next week." Dace growls back, almost unintelligibly.

"Someone get a Death Metal to English dictionary please." Calls King.

The fans are calling and chatting on, as Dace and Crow exchange glares and words.

"You'll nut be, please tell me what sort of crap is th..."

Crow doesn't get to finish his words, as Dace lashes out with both arms, grabbing Crow by the shoulders, and barrelling his head forwards, driving into full force into Crow's nose with a crunch and a snap.

Crow drops to the mat, as Dace stands grinning of the pool of the blood already forming from Crow's shattered nose.

WE FELT THAT ONE! WE FELT THAT ONE! WE FELT THAT ONE!

"See what I mean about cheating Axis! Dace attacked him before the bell!" King yells.

DING, DING, DING!

Not wasting a moment, and a single bit of sheer pissed off anger, Dace drops down beside Crow, and starts unloading Elbow after Elbow into the Australian's face.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Placing one hand on the Aussie Goth's chest, and one on his forehead, Night pushes himself up onto his toes before driving his knee down with everything he's got, straight into Crow's face.

CRACK!

"Dace is trying to cave Crow's skull right in. Oh my god, I don't believe this." Axis cries.

Pulling a leg back over Crow's body, the Brummie Goth just leans back into a cover.

......ONE!

......TWO!

......Kickout!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

"YEEEEESSSSSSSSS!" King almost jumps out of his seat. "Cheating doesn't get you anywhere Axis. Remember that for the next staff poker game."

Simply wrenching Crow off the mat, Dace doesn't let up, whipping him into the ropes, and charging in right behind him, looking to level Crow once more in the face.

But with awareness that can only come form pure main surging through your body, Crow grabs onto the ropes for dear life, flicking his body down and up, which sends Dace tumbling overhead, up over the ropes and down to the arena floor below.

The fans jump all over Crow, booing and jeering as Dace hits the floor with a thud.

"Crow still has his wits about him, which he's going to need if he wants to win in this condition." Axis comments.

Stumbling into the corner, the Aussie gasps for breath, sucking it down over the pain from the remains of his nose, which is still bleeding. Referee Hall is checking on Crow to see that he still wants to continue, and keeping one eye on the outside, as he starts the count out.

......ONE!

......TWO!

......THREE!

Crow grabs Hall as starts jawing off, trying to waste time, and keep Hall between him and Dace, to give him more time to recover to some fighting state.

.....FOUR!

Sitting up on the floor, Dace takes him time getting up, giving Crow more time to bleed. Eyeing up a chair at ring side, he points to it, and then to Crow, drawing a roar on cheers from the fans.

......FIVE!

......SIX!

"What is Dace thinking, this isn't a hardcore match."

Sliding back into the ring, Dace pulls Referee Hall out of the corner, away from The Bird.

Using the ropes for support, Crow lashes out a boot, just as Hall is clear from his path, driving into Night's gut, with the element of surprise. Following up with a backfist, landing square on the ear, Crow jumps at the opening.

"And Crow mounting a comeback, using a fist to the ear to disorientate Dace." Axis calls.

"That's it, taking him out Crow, fight through the pain, work it." Calls King.

Swinging his arm through a huge arch, Crow hammers the edge of his hand into Dace's chest, forcing the air out of it.

BBBBOOOOO! BBBBBBBOOOOO! BBBBBBBBOOOOOO! BBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOO!

"Well, there's a predicable twist." Axis notes.

"Stop killing the heat man."

With Dace backing into the rope, Crow takes hold of wrist on the back swing from a chop, and whips him off from the ropes, only to pull back on the breaks, and run right at Dace, swinging past him, turning him round, and seeing Dace off balance pulling him in, straight into a boot to the gut, before snapping back with a DDT.

"Crow playing swings and round a bouts with that one, throwing Dace off balancing and taking him down with a DDT."

Laying still on the mat, Crow takes the extra moments to drag in breath, rather than leap into more offence, trying to save himself, and build his reverses back up for later in the match.

"Crow is taking a breather, but with that busted nose, it's a smart thing Axis. If he doesn't now, and he doesn't get a chance to later, he could find himself in real trouble." King shouts out.

"I actually have to agree with you there on that one King."

Dace and Crow push themselves back up to their feet. Slugging off an Elbow Smash, Dace aims another blow to Crow's face, but Crow he's waiting for it, and sends his arms snaking out, grabbing hold of Dace's and whips him over head with an arm drag.

Dace rolls through to his feet, but Crow his already following it up, with a leap, crashing chest first into Dace with a Cross Body that pins the Brummie to the mat.

......ONE!

.....TWO!

Kickout!

The arena his filled with cheers, as Dace kicks out.

Firing off a right hand, Crow shoots for the nose of the rising Dace, but Dace has the body control to stop his rise, letting the fist fly over head, before surging up, wrapping his arm around Crow's neck. Hauling his opponent into Air like a Rock Bottom, Dace takes a full three hundred and sixty degree twists before dropping to one knee, and driving Crow's back into his knee with all his might.

"Dace ducks a fist, and plants Crow with a spinning Faithless!"

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

Picking Crow up from across his knee, Dace scoops the bleeding Goth over his shoulder, and pointing to the turnbuckle, breaks into a run.

As with so many times before that his has been tried, Crow kicks his legs, managing to slide his body down, and shoves Dace, sending him crashing chest first into the turnbuckles. As the Brummie staggers back, Crow locks his arms around Night's waist, and rolls backwards, cradling Dace up.

......ONE!

......TWO!

......1/2!

No!

Dace shoves Crow up and forms, from his position under Crow in the Cradle, sending Crow flying forwards, and face first into the second turnbuckle with a smack.

Another cheering ripples across the arena as Crow dodges the bullet once, but not twice.

"Bullet dodging only works so many times. I don't know how many more impacts Crow can take to what's left of his nose." Axis yells.

As Crow slumps back, Dace Schoolboys him, reaching right over with his body weight, pinning Crow back to the mat.

......ONE!

......TWO!

......1/2

.....Kickout!

Taking the crimson faced Crow up from the mat, Night fires him off with an Irish Whip, to give him room for a Yakuza Kick run up, but some how Crow manages to slam on the breaks, and turn around to come flying back, and on past Dace, before slamming on the breaks, and turning again, in a repeat of his early move.

This time around, Dace rockets into a charge as Crow his starting his return run, and so Crow runs in full steam, drilling himself into a extra loving, and extra brutal Yakuza Kick.

"Yakuza Kick! It's over!"

RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAHHHHHH! YYYYYYAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!

The fans call out for the impact from the move.

Standing over the fallen body of Crow, Horrorcore pulls him back up, into a rear waist lock, with the plan to throw Crow clean across the ring, and knock him out for sure.

With the blood pouring with renewed strength from his nose, his mind foggy, thoughts twisted, Crow sinks back into cavemen instincts. Turning his head towards Hall, just as Dace cinches is arms, Crow snorts, sending a shower of blood into Hall's face.

As Hall brings his arms up to cover his face, Crowe swings his left leg backwards, and nails it straight into Dace Night's groin.

"Low Blow!"

"Smart Thinking!"

CROW SUCKS! CROW SUCKS! CROW SUCKS! CROW SUCKS!

Twisting on his heel, the Aussie Goth reaches down, looping his arms around Night's leg, and drops back, whiling twisting over, putting a huge tearing force on Dace's knee, with a Dragon Screw Leg Whip.

With all the speed he has, Crow steps between Dace's legs, turning one around his before falling back, hooking Night's legs, one over the other, then his own free leg over both of them, with a Figure Four Leg Lock.

The crowd carries on it's assault of booing towards Crow, as he sinks back into the Figure Four.

"By hook, ore by crook, Crow took Dace down, and wrapped him up into that Figure Four." Says Axis.

"Now all he has to do is sit back and wait for Dace to tap out." King smiles.

"I don't think it'll be that simple. Crow hasn't had chance to do any work on the legs, and Dace is one tough guy. I think they both have a way to get in this match yet." Axis points out.

"Spoil Sport."

The fans turn to another a verbal assault on Crow.

YOU GOT NUTTED! YOU GOT NUTTED! YOU GOT NUTTED!

"At least they have a sense of humour."

Dace leans back to take the pressure of his legs, but ends up putting his shoulder on the mat because of it.

......ONE!

......TWO!

No!

Dace leans one shoulder back up. Crow presses down with is legs, and uses his hands to force his body back up.

Dace drops back to the mat again.

......ONE!

......TWO!

No!

Crow puts his arms out behind his head, and while Hall is checking on Dace, grabs the ropes and pulls himself up by them.

BBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Hall asks if Dace wants to quit.

No!

Crow pulls even harder on the ropes, as Hall asks again.

No! Dace slaps Hall around the mouth, turning his face towards Crow.

BREAK!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIV .. Crow legs go of the ropes, and untangles his legs from Dace's.

"Crow using the ropes, getting as much time out of that hold as he could, but will it have been enough to weaken Dace's knee to give him any advantage?"

"What did I say about being a spoil sport Axis?"

Getting back into his feet first, Crow arms a hard kick, right into the side of Dace's knee. And then another, and another, stomping away.

Dragging Dace up by his hair, Crow jumps back, sitting himself on the top rope, and clamps on a Front Facelock. Kicking his feet of the turnbuckles, looking for a Murderous DDT. But Dace clips Crow's wings, bring Crow down to his feet as he swings round.

Dace moves to throw Crow back over head into the turnbuckles, but Crow uses the force to kick himself around, and off the turnbuckles once again. And after a full spin lands back on the mat, spiking Dace's head with a Murderous DDT.

"Murderous DDT, this is Crow's chance!" Calls out King.

......ONE!

.....TWO!

......1/4!

......1/2!

......3/4!

Kickout!

"But it wasn't a big enough chance it seems King."

YAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! The fans cheer their approval as Dace kicks out once again from Crow's attack.

As both Goths get back to their feet, the Aussie clamps on a Rear Waist Lock, looking for a German Suplex. Still shaking his head out from the DDT, Dace isn't quick enough to block it.

Crow hauls back.

And gets nowhere at all. After loosing all that blood, he doesn't have the strength left to send Dace over for a German Suplex.

With little effort, Dace punches Crow's hands away. Turning round, Dace unloads another crushing Elbow Smash into Crow's nose.

CRACK!

Snapping on a Front Facelock, Dace brings The Bird up and over head, letting him twist round, before dropping back to the mat, pulling Crow's jaw and throat down across his shoulders with the Sentenced.

Holding onto Crow's head, the Brummie turns around, back into a Front Facelock, lifting Crow up into the once more, all the way up, before throwing his feet out from under himself, and dropping back down to the mat, spiking Crow on his neck with a Sheer Drop Brainbuster

Still holding onto Crow's head, Dace twists up off the mat, and drags Crow into a Standing Headscissors. Reaching around Crow's waist, Night pulls him high up into the air, before sending him crashing back down with a thunderous Powerbomb, bridging over Crow, pressing his shoulders down for the pin.

......ONE!

......TWO!

......1/4!

......1/2!

......3/4!

......9/10!

Kickout!

NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!

"A Sentenced, A Sheer Drop Brainbuster, and a Powerbomb, but the injured Crow still refuses to

quit, holding on with everything he's got to the chance at getting a World Title shot."

Scrambling across the mat like a mad man, Crow rolls out of the ring, bailing out for dear, as he

he tries to regroup.

Dace doesn't follow Crow, taking his own time to regroup, rubbing his knee, taking the stress out of

it from Crow's Figure Four.

......ONE!

......TWO!

......THREE!

......FOUR!

Running a hand down his face, Crow tries to see how bad the damage to his nose really is.

......FIVE!

......SIX!

"Both men are at a stand off it seems. I guess they're both expecting a counter attack from the other man if they go after him." Axis musses.

"Boring, basically." King puts in.

......SEVEN!

......EIGHT!

......NINE!

....Crow slides under the ropes, back into the ring.

Circling each other, looking for any openings to the plans they still have left, the two men, edge in slowly.

Snapping arms forwards, they tie up, but Dace instantly shifts his grip, latching onto Crow's left arm. Seeing that he is about to be pulled face first to the mat, Crow fires off with a High Roundhouse Kick, driving it into Dace's ear.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Two more land, but Dace shrugs them off, and slams and Elbow into the side of Crow's head, before latching back into his arm. Crow won't go down so easily, and cracks off more Roundhouse Kicks, this time into the ribs.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Dace is staggered back again, but lunches off three stiff knees to the gut, cutting off Crow's air, before grabbing his arm again, and falling back, smashing Crow's shoulder into the mat, but also smashing his face into it.

OOOOOOOHHHHHH!

Crow goes down, but as he did so, he swung a fist, clobbering it into Night's ear, sending him reeling across the mat as he lands.

"Dace was holding on like a rabid dog, and finally hit that Single Arm DDT, but Crow took every chance to land in every blow he could."

"Come on Crow, you can win this, just keep doing it." Calls King.

Dace and Crow are still on the mat, shaking down the ever forming cobwebs.

......ONE!

......TWO!

...... THREE!

......FOUR!

......FIVE!

Dace comes back to his feet first, and seeing Crow crawling up the turnbuckles, runs his, driving an arm into Crow's chest, plastering him into the turnbuckles.

Dragging Crow out of the corner, Dace rears back to deliver another Elbow Smash, but Crow ducks and turns, wrapping an arm around Dace's neck, and a leg around his knee, before snapping Dace back to the mat with a Side Russian Leg Sweep.

Rolling over as Dace hits the mat, Crow springs up and comes crashing down with a Leg Drop, and then follows it up with another Leg Drop, and then another one. Looking to leave Dace disorientated long enough to roll him up, Crow takes a run back at the ropes, and flies back, skidding along the mat, and drives both boots into the side of Dace's head.

CRACK!

"Crow slipping out the backward once again, and going back to those attacks to the ear and the side of the head. If you haven't got your ear, you lose balance, you can't stand right, your cant wrestles, and you don't know where you are to kick out." Axis calls out.

"Smart, smart working." King comments.

Locking his arms around Dace's, Crow rolls over on the mat, holding Dace's arm, and ends up pinning him down with a La Majistral Cradle.

......ONE!

......TWO!

......1/4!

......1/2!

......3/4!

Kickout!

Dace rolls away, and onto his knees, but Crow had an easier time stand up, and throws a kick, nailing it into Night's head, dropping him straight back to the mat.

CROW SUCKS! CROW SUCKS! CROW SUCKS!

......ONE!

......TWO!

......1/4!

......1/2!

......3/4!

Kickout!

"Dace still kicks out. He's just going to go down to Crow's attacks." Cries Axis.

Slowly pushing himself back up, Dace staggers, groggy, but throws his arms up, blocking another Roundhouse Kick that comes flying from Crow.

Grabbing the Aussie's leg, Dace pulls him in, and unleashes a flurry of crushing Elbow Smashes.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

With a new fountain of blood arching into the air from Crow's nose, Dace slips behind him. Throwing the horns into the air, he calls for the death blow.

Looping his arm throw Crow's legs, the Brummie Goth hauls Crow up into the air, turning around, and dumps Crow across the top rope. Unlike the usual move, Dace dumps Crow seating on the top rope, so he faces out into the crowd, as Dace shifts his arms, locking them tight around Crow's waist.

Arching his back, Dace throws back with all his might, he sends Crow over head, and with the added height of the ropes, Crow sails nine tenths of the way across the ring, before crunching down across the shoulder, folding up, and staying perfectly still.

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

"Oh My God! A German Suplex, with Crow sitting on the top rope, all the way across the ring and onto his neck." Axis screams.

"Stop the match, Crow's heart damn it, stop the match!" King yells.

Standing in the middle of the ring, Dace points to Crow, and draws a thumb slowly across his throat.

"I think Dace is feeling a little Canadian."

Taking hold of Crow, and dragging him firmly back into the middle of the ring, Dace slips down beside Crow, pulling an arm between his legs, and reaching his arms round, and clamping his hands across the destroyed bit of Crow's face that was once his nose.

"Code Black! Code Black!"

"No, for it to end this way!"

Hall stands beside Crow, and checks for any reasons from the Aussie.

He checks again.

Weakly, Crow taps on the mat, three times.

Turning around, the waves his arm in the all, calling for the bell.

Dace lets go and rolls away, leaving the battered and bleeding form of Crow in the middle of the ring.

DING! DING! DING!

"Ladies and Gentlemen, here is you're winner, and Number One Contender for the SJL World Title ... DACE NIGHT!"

Winds of Creation roars out through the LA arena, as the fans cheer for Dace.

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

Scooping his finger through the blood from Crow's nose, Dace leaves a message on the Aussie's chest. In parody of Crow's own actions, Dace smiles, as he leaves a playful message.

NUTTED!

Throwing the horns to the fans, Dace steps between the ropes, and makes his way to the back as EMTs hit the ring to check on the bloodied Crow, and the mops come out to clean up the ring.

"With intensity like this going around, the SJL Title scene is at the strongest I've even seen it." Axis says.

"Axis, how can you sit there and say that so easily, when a fellow country man is laying in the ring, in a pool of his own blood?"

"I'm taking a page from your book ok King." Axis answers smoothly. "We'll be right back after these messages.

The camera fades out on the image of Dace, standing in the entrance way, making the sign of the belt around his waist.

March 10, 2003

The crowd’s outburst can barely be measured as we return to SJL Wrath, and the greatest announce team in wrestling today, Suicide King and Axis.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Axis exclaims, greeting us with his customary uppity jibber-jabber, “ welcome back to SJL Wrath! We’ve had an exceptional show for you all tonight, but if you’re just tuning in… well, you picked a good time!”

“Indeed you did, humble viewer,” King interjects, “as tonight, in that very ring, we will see Mike Van Siclen and Janus square off for the fourth time since Malice in Wonderland, this time in a Caged Fury match with the Smarks Junior Leagues Heavyweight Title on the line! And now, let’s send it to Funyon, in the middle of the ring, for the introductions!”

Funyon, standing mid-ring, clears his throat and begins to speak. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to your MAAAAAAIN EVENT! The following contest is a CAAAAAAGED FURY match for the ESS-JAY-ELL HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP! Here to introduce to us tonight’s rules, referee Nicholas Soapdish!”

Funyon hands the microphone over to the man in stripes, who gets polite applause. Soapdish speaks, in a nasal, grainy tone. “The following contest will be fought inside of a steel cage with no doors. You may leave at any time, but submissions only count in the ring. There are no disqualifications and no count-out, and the winner is the first one to submit.”

Funyon takes back the microphone. “Thank you, Nick! And now, introducing first, the challenger!”

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. He spins around the on the ramp, grinning like a madman as he breaks out of his spin cycle and steps cockily down the entrance ramp, pausing at the ring. He throws up the apron, reaching under the ring and pulling out a pair of chairs. The former champion throws both of them into the ring as Funyon intros him.

“Weighing in at two-hundred and thirty-seven pounds, this man has been in some of the most grueling matches in the history of the federation! He has engaged in Stairway to F**k matches, he has engaged in Ladder/Steel Pipe matches, but tonight may be the most deadly of them all. Tonight, he gets his shot at his second SJL Heavyweight championship! Ladies and gentlemen, the SJL would like to present tonight’s challenger, MIIIIIIIIIIIIKE VA-AN SIIIIIIIIIC-LEEEEEEEEN!”

The crowd boos Van Siclen, who grins like a Cheshire cat as he slides into the ring, posing in crucifix fashion and allowing his jacket to slip off of him. Soapdish, obviously flustered, scurries over to grab the jacket, and he tosses it quickly to the timekeeper as 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. Each blue pyro goes out as he passes it, and he climbs into the ring slowly and stoically.

“And, we present to you the champion! Weighing in at three-hundred fifty pounds, this man has been one of the longest-reigning SJL European Champions of all time, and a win over Mike Van Siclen tonight would put him on the road to doing the same thing with the Heavyweight bell. Ladies and gentlemen, the SJL, in association with the Magnificent Seven, is proud to present its HEAVYWEIGHT champion... JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANUS!”

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 "Resurrection" fades out as Janus waits in the ring as the cage slowly lowers around the two men. The visual of Janus and Mike Van Siclen, each pacing in their respective corners, Mike’s much more of a nervous pace than Janus’. The two men lock eyes, as the gleaming silver begins to fall past them, and the two men stare at each other as the cage lands on the ring apron and stays there. Van Siclen and Janus, through the chain link, look oddly superheroic as Nick Soapdish nervously signals for the bell…

-=: Ding Ding Ding :=-

“This Heavyweight title match is on!”

Janus and Van Siclen begin to circle nervously around the outside of the ring, both men knowing that they may not be able to walk in a half an hour – but neither of them care, as the title is on the line and at the moment, this is all that matters. Janus makes the first stride, and just as quickly Van Siclen charges towards the middle of the ring. Janus looks to lock up, just as in their no-disqualifications match early in February, but Mike has obviously been studying, and he catches Janus with a drop toe hold instead of doing the predictable lock-up! Caught by surprise, Janus falls flat on the mat, and Van Siclen gets up quickly to take advantage by running to the ropes, coming back and dropping a monster knee across the back of Janus’ neck! Janus grabs his neck in pain, rolling over onto his back as he holds it, and Van Siclen quickly starts laying in boots to the head while the referee, helpless to do anything about it, simply lets Van Siclen stomp away.

“The champion is put on the mat quickly, as Van Siclen lays in a couple of heavy boots to Janus’ head!”

“The tone for this match has been set already, Axis, by that reversal right there. This match’s outcome will come down to whoever has learned the most about their opponent from their previous two meetings – three, if you count Mall Brawl IV.”

Van Siclen lays off on the boots after delivering about eight good shots to the head, turning away from Janus and does the “bang!” point at the crowd, who oddly enough begin to cheer him a bit! Van Siclen grins as he turns back to Janus, who by now is on his feet and mighty upset. The champion levels a knee at Mike’s gut, the setup for the Implant DDT… but Mike grabs Janus under the knee! He steps over Janus’ leg with the right foot… and then whips his left leg up, jumping a bit to kick Janus in the GODDAMN FACE~! The crowd pops for the stepover whipkick as Van Siclen rolls through and gets to his feet, tilting his head a bit to the left side so as to prevent it from being stiff as he brushes the hair out of his face, preparing for his next move.

“Van Siclen catches Janus with a nice stepover kick there!”

“And once again, this is because Mike has been paying attention in prior matches. He’s seen the Implant DDT setup before, and he knows exactly how to counter it. What he needs to worry about right now is not letting his neck get too beat up – Janus killed it the last time these two fought, and on Metal Van Siclen caught a nasty Superkick from Spike Jenkins!”

The challenger grabs Janus by his long white hair, lifting the champion to his feet and grabbing him around the neck, in position for a DDT! Van Siclen raises one arm in the air, the now-universal signal for a Code Red as the crowd erupts, waiting for the huge mark so that they can mark out! But just as before, Janus knows the move and knows how to counter, catching Mike with a slick kidney punch that cause Mike to double over a bit, still keeping his grip on Janus’ neck but loosening it up a little – not much, but enough for the giant to wrap his own arm around Mike’s neck and reverse it into a vertical suplex! Janus stands up, now, shaking out his neck a little bit before grabbing Van Siclen by the hair, lifting the challenger to his feet.

“Van Siclen looks for the Code Red on Janus, but the big man has seen that move before and made it into a vertical suplex!”

“Quite the cagey counter by our resident Australian, and Van Siclen’s going to have to make sure that Janus doesn’t get him in the air so much – if the big man can keep Mike off the mat, he owns him.”

Janus grabs Mike around the neck, looking for the chokeslam as the crowd erupts, looking forward to seeing the big impact!... but they are once again robbed, as Van Siclen swings his boot out and rams it right into the jewels of Janus! The big man loosens his grip on Mike with his right hand while grabbing his testes with his left, and Van Siclen takes advantage of this sudden grip-loosening by grabbing Janus by the arm, removing it from his neck and twisting it around in an arm wrench! Janus, apparently satisfied with the feeling in his phallus, runs towards Mike with his left arm extended, looking for a shortarm clothesline… but Mike ducks it!

Janus runs right past Mike, realizing it and turning right around… right into a boot to the gut! Janus pauses, doubling over, but Mike grabs him by the hair, lifting up to about ¾ of his full height. The challenger lifts up Janus’ head, putting his chin underneath it… and jumping into the air, sitting out with a hard jawbreaker! Janus bounces up, rubbing his jaw in pain… and Mike runs to the ropes, bouncing off them and coming back with a spinning wheelkick, catching Janus right on the jaw! The big man staggers backwards, into the ropes near the corner, and Mike follows him all the way there, springboarding off of the ropes to the side of Janus and dropkicking the giant right in the face, causing his head to snap back and right into the steel cage! A “HO-LY S**T!” chant breaks out as Janus falls forward, so that the entire arena can see his white-haired scalp beginning to turn red.

“Van Siclen with a NASTY springboard dropkick to the face, knocking the back of Janus’ head right into that cage!”

“The champion is reeling, Axis! And it all started from Van Siclen’s knowledge of the chokeslam – he took advantage in Janus’ slight delay before the lift, which led right into the bloody mess you see right now!”

Van Siclen stands up, looking at the crowd cheering for the move… and takes a bow for them, causing the crowd to roar even louder! Grinning, Mike walks over to Janus’ felled body and lifting the giant to his feet. Mike grabs Janus by the arm, whipping him into the ropes. Janus lands in the turnbuckle, but instead of following for his usual avalanche Mike walks over to where Janus is and steps out of the ring, so that he stands on the ring apron. He steps behind the turnbuckle, grabbing Janus by the head and bending him over the turnbuckle with his right arm in Dragon Sleeper position! He applies the pressure to Janus’ neck, bending Janus’ back over the turnbuckle in impressive fashion! Referee Soapdish, powerless to do anything about it, simply allows Mike to keep Janus in the hold.

The challenger begins yelling things at Janus, telling him to “TAP OUT!” and “RESPECT ME!” The crowd, disliking Mike’s comments, begins a small “JA-NUS” chant, to which the Van Siclen fans in the crowd respond with “TAP OUT!” The crowd, now chanting “TAP OUT!” “JA-NUS!”, gets louder and louder as the expression on Mike’s face becomes one of more and more rage as he yells at Janus more and more! The champion’s arm, suddenly rises, and it quivers, looking like it is about to tap the rope… but instead it grabs Van Siclen around the neck, giving him a last-desperation Snapmare! The crowd erupts for the high impact move as Janus, too, falls out of the corner, laying on his stomach next to Van Siclen, who is grabbing his neck from the impact of the snapmare. Soapdish, powerless to count them out, simply allows them to lay there as the crowd, bored, begins to chant “GET UP ASS-CLOWNS!”

“This crowd is showing no respect for either man, yelling at them to get up after going through some of the most brutal sequences this fed has seen!”

“…and we’re only eight minutes in, Axis! Isn’t it great!”

Van Siclen manages to get to his feet first, as Janus is on his knees. In the middle of the ring, Van Siclen sets up a chair in sitting position, and the crowd pops for it, remembering the move Mike used to defeat Janus – the Russian Roulette onto a steel chair! Van Siclen, obviously appreciative of their applause, gives them a slight wave as he turns back to Janus… who is on his feet and angry! The champion grabs Mike around the neck, lifting him up angrily for a vertical suplex… but just as he has done so many times before he does it too fast, allowing the cagey Van Siclen to use the momentum Janus provides to him to roll right down Janus’ back, landing back-to-back with the giant!

The two men, back-to-back, are right next to the steel chair, and Van Siclen grabs Janus under the arms, bending over and looking to give the huge man a spike backslide, the move Edwin MacPhisto called the Encore Cross, right onto the steel chair!... but Janus has obviously been watching his Edwin MacPhisto tapes lately, as he swings his arms together to break Van Siclen’s hold on them! Mike, surprised that Janus could pull out a counter, quickly stands up… right into the hold for a chokeslam! Janus, again, looks for the chokeslam on Van Siclen… but yet again the challenger can see the move telegraphed, and he again levels a kick at Janus’ gut, doubling him over and forcing him to release the chokehold! Quickly, Van Siclen grabs Janus in DDT hold, raising one arm quickly before whirling around, grabbing Janus around the neck and giving him a bulldog right onto the mat, or the Code Red!

“Van Siclen scores with the Code Red, but he won’t be able to get the pinfall off of it!”

“It doesn’t matter anyway, Axis! Janus will get the submission from Van Siclen, even if he has to thoroughly beat him around the head and shoulders to do it!”

Van Siclen gets down on the mat, putting his left leg over Janus’ body and kneeling down in catcher’s position on it. Mike grabs Janus’ left arm, pulling it behind his left knee. Mike does the same thing with the right arm, and then puts his left hand underneath Janus’ face! Mike does the same with the right, locking both hands together across the bridge of the champion’s nose and pulling as far back as he can, locking Janus into the Gokuraku Clutch! The crowd erupts for Mike’s signature submission as Janus’ mouth describes the expression of his entire body, dropping open and letting loose sounds of utter pain! Van Siclen responds to this nonverbally, pulling Janus’ neck back even further as the champion’s screams grow louder, and he begins to quiver, the desire to tap there…

“Van Siclen has Janus locked into the Cardinal Sin Clutch! It could be all over here…”

“Mighty early, no less! I’ve never seen Van Siclen lock in the Clutch this early in a match, but he really wants to end it here, and with everything he’s done to Janus’ neck he just might!”

Van Siclen pulls back even farther on the hold, as far as he can go, and he holds it for a short while, screaming at Janus to tap… but the longer the hold stays locked on, the more obvious it becomes that Janus will not tap. Upset a bit, Van Siclen releases the hold with his right hand, shoving Janus’ face into the mat and walking away from the champion, shaking his head angrily and then turning right around and back to Janus, who is struggling to his feet and shaking his neck out.

Mike doesn’t help Janus’ neck pains any, lifting the champ to his feet and catching him with a couple hooks to the face and then grabbing him by the hair, leading him over to the chair in the middle of the ring. The challenger knees Janus in the back, doubling him over backwards and applying the hold for a reverse DDT. Mike walks over, the hold still intact, spinning Janus on his axis so he winds up bent over, with his back barely above the chair. Van Siclen raises one arm, signaling for the Russian Roulette… but Janus grabs Van Siclen by the arm, removing it from his neck and spinning Mike around into an arm wrench! Janus moves away so that the arm wrench is not over the chair… and then grabs Mike with his other arm for a chokeslam!

“Janus avoids the Russian Roulette, and now he has Mike set up for a chokeslam!”

“And again, these two men know each other like the back of their own hands. Janus has had nightmares about that move for weeks, and I’ll bet you that now he knows how to counter it thirty different ways!”

Van Siclen looks for another kick to the nuts… but Janus, expecting it this time, grabs Mike by the boot with his free hand, leveling a kick at Mike’s quad! Mike’s leg falls back down into standing position, and Janus lifts Mike high into the air, the former champion dangling with Janus’ long, tree branch arm the only thing supporting him… and it quickly thrusts Mike back to the mat, causing the Spectacular one to land flat on his back! Van Siclen grabs his neck, the first part of him to impact the canvas, in pain, as Janus grabs Mike again and lifts him to his feet.

The champion goes behind Mike, standing with Mike’s back in his stomach and then grabbing the challenger under the arms and forcing his hands together across the back of Mike’s neck, putting the Spectacular one in a full nelson! The crowd erupts for Janus’ first submission, and they erupt more when Janus lifts Van Siclen up, swinging him back-and-forth in midair with the full nelson still intact! Van Siclen’s body dangles like a rag doll and his face is twisted into a mask of pain as he swings back and forth in midair, the crowd roaring for Janus’ display of immense power. Janus’ body can’t do this forever, though, and he lifts Van Siclen up even higher, then throws him down with a full nelson slam! The challenger grabs his neck and Janus grabs his as well, both men’s necks have been worked pretty hard thus far.

“Janus with the chokeslam, and he follows up with a swinging full nelson into a full nelson slam!”

“Janus is steamrolling Van Siclen right here, Axis! I don’t think Mike can hold on much longer!”

The champion grabs Mike by the neck, lifting him to his feet and then kneeing him in the gut. Mike doubles over, and Janus grabs Mike and thrusts him into a standing headscissors. The crowd erupts as Janus nonchalantly lifts Mike up into powerbomb position… but Van Siclen falls backwards, even through his dazed state having the state of mind to wrap his legs around Janus’ neck and give him a Hurricanrana! Janus flips forward, landing flat on his back but his neck absorbing the brunt of the impact. The champion tries to sit up, but winds up falling back to the mat, grabbing his neck in pain as Van Siclen, now standing, grabs his own neck, doubling over with his elbows resting on his knees.

“Both men are in immense pain here, King!”

“This is turning into a battle of whose neck can hold up better, Axis.”

“Then they’re both lucky Tom Flesher isn’t in the match.”

The challenger turns around, facing Janus and looking for some inspiration in the ring… and, inexplicably, he sees it in the crowd! Van Siclen cracks a smile in the middle of the ring, turning back to face Janus and grabbing him by the hair, lifting him to his feet by the hair and leading him over to the cage wall… and rams his face right into it! The crowd “OOOOOH”s, wincing from the face-smash as Van Siclen pulls Janus back, revealing a number of thin cuts across Janus’ face. Mike grabs the giant by the arm, whipping him to the other side of the ring, following right behind… and clotheslining Janus face-first into the cage as they hit the other side! The crowd, now, is booing the challenger, and Van Siclen shrugs as he grabs Janus by the ponytail, pulling him away from the cage… and then violently throwing his face into it! The crowd, now, boos Mike even harder, as Janus falls away from the cage, his face now streaked with thin lines of blood, making a near-spiderweb across his face. The challenger throws in a couple of kicks at Janus’ face for good measure, drawing even more boos and a small “ASS-HOLE!” chant as Janus simply lies on the mat, possibly unconscious.

“Janus is a bloody mess here, King, and I have to ask myself if he’s gone too far!”

“In any other match he would have, Axis… but this match is for the World title, and you just can’t go far enough after that!”

Van Siclen walks around a little bit, exhaling and twisting his neck in an attempt to shake out all the kinks in it before turning back around, facing Janus’ body, still laying face-up on the mat with blood streaking his face. Mike grabs Janus by the long, white hair, turning Janus over once again. The champ once again straddles Janus, then grabs him under the right arm, forcing it behind his head and pressing his hand into Janus’ neck. With the other arm, Mike grabs Janus around the throat, grabbing his other wrist to complete the tazzmission choke, which Van Siclen called for a while the Van Siclenmission!

Janus’ face twists into a pained expression, his eyes bulging out of their sockets as he yells out in pain, the desire to tap there once again and only egged on by Van Siclen whispering in his ear to “Tap… taaap…” Janus, trying to hold on, flails with his legs, but it is no use, and the visual of Janus’ face, blood-streaked and held in the Van Siclenmission, is a very chilling one indeed… thankfully, though, it doesn’t last for long, as Van Siclen lets go of the hold, standing up and brushing the hair out of his face. He kicks Janus once in the neck, causing the champ to grab it and roll over onto his stomach in pain, and grinning, Mike walks over to the side of the cage.

“Van Siclenmission on Janus very nearly gets the large man to tap out, but Janus still has enough in the tank!”

“I’m surprised he does, to be perfectly honest. Mike has been trying to snap Janus’ neck off the entire match, and a lesser man would’ve tapped out by now.”

“But he’s no lesser man – he’s our World champion!”

Van Siclen steps through the ropes and onto the apron, looking up at the steel bars atop the cage. The challenger grins, grabbing a hold on the cage and beginning to climb it. Janus, down on the mat, turns his head over to see what all the fuss is about… and sees Mike Van Siclen climbing the cage, slowly, as the fans roar in anticipation! Knowing what is to come and not liking it very much, Janus turns over onto his stomach, pushing himself up with his arm and shaking his neck out, going over to Van Siclen and grabbing the young upstart by the hair, forcefully ripping him off of the cage! Like a rag doll, Mike falls off the cage, his body landing on the ropes and sliding down so that his legs rest on the top rope while his head is lying on the inside of the ring. Janus, grinning, levels one huge stomp at Mike’s head, causing the Spectacular one to grab his head and roll over in pain from the maneuver, his legs falling off of the ropes. Janus allows himself an inward smile, in hot pursuit of the challenger.

“Mike Van Siclen gets denied looking for something off of the top of the cage!”

“Even going for the hot finish, you need to be careful, and Mike Van Siclen didn’t exercise too much caution right there. And it cost him.”

Janus grabs Mike by the arm, lifting the challenger to his feet and whipping him into the turnbuckle! Van Siclen lands snugly in the corner… but he is quickly shaken by Janus, who is following right behind Van Siclen and crushes his body into the turnbuckle with an Avalanche! Van Siclen slides down to the second buckle, and Janus grabs the ropes for balance and kicks Mike repeatedly in the head, causing Mike’s head to repeatedly bounce off of the second buckle! Janus, in a fury now, kicks Mike over and over again, while the referee is powerless to do anything.

Janus finally gets bored, stalking away from Van Siclen and brushing the long white hair out of his eyes, turning back to face Mike Van Siclen. Janus gets down in a three-point stance, looking for the finishing maneuver that may cripple him but will cripple Van Siclen more! The challenger, missing Janus, pushes himself up on the turnbuckle… and Janus charges, looking for the Gore! Van Siclen, thinking as quickly as he can, leapfrogs Janus, and the big man grabs the ropes in an attempt to halt his momentum. He turns around in the corner… where Van Siclen is, bouncing off of the second rope and dropkicking Janus right in the mouth, causing him to bounce off the turnbuckle and fall straight forward for the second time in the match!

“ANOTHER springboard dropkick to the face by Van Siclen, and your theory on Janus and Van Siclen knowing each other is really starting to fall apart, King.”

“Van Siclen and Janus are dead, Axis. They don’t know where they are… I don’t think I know where they are.”

Van Siclen gets to his feet, staggering around a little bit as he looks at Janus, who is quite nearly dead! He turns around once again, looking at the cage… and his eyes light up, with the realization of how to finish the match. The challenger looks down at Janus, facedown on the mat, and looks back at the cage… and realizes exactly what must be done. Van Siclen again steps between the ropes, so that his body is pressed against the cage.

And he climbs. And climbs, and climbs, and the crowd gets louder with every step until it hits a crescendo, as Van Siclen steps onto the huge steel bars that are the top of the cage! Van Siclen turns around, looking straight down about twelve feet at the champion who, if he has his way, will soon be dethroned. Van Siclen flashes the Jimmy Snuka “I Love You” sign, and then leaps off, falling all..

The way…

Down…

Flipping over in midair, and landing in a leg drop right across Janus’ neck, the move known as the Sin Aerial! Van Siclen rolls away from Janus in pain, but Janus is in more pain, grabbing his neck from the impact and kicking his legs out in the pain of a man just destroyed… which, fittingly enough, he is.

“SIN AERIAL! SIN AERIAL ON JANUS!”

“Van Siclen sure hasn’t used that move in a while, but he picked the perfect time to pull it out once more!”

Van Siclen pulls himself to his feet, shaking his head to get the kinks out before turning to Janus, who is still grabbing his neck in pain. Van Siclen levels a couple of stomps into the big man, knocking him over onto his stomach. Van Siclen straddles Janus once more, possibly for the final time! This time, he puts Janus’ arms behind his knees, putting Janus into Camel Clutch position. Van Siclen then reaches forward, pulling back Janus’ neck with a Crossface! Pulling back as far as he can Van Siclen lets out a roar of energy, as Janus’ mouth describes all of his pain, opening up and yelling out in rage as his brain, urging him to tap off, is nearly shut off as all of the blood loss and pain he’s been through thus far, especially on the neck, comes rushing back to him, amplified by Van Siclen’s iron grip on his face!

But Janus, ever the resourceful one, puts his right hand into a fist underneath Van Siclen’s leg and lifts up, catching him with a half-powered punch to the leg! Mike, barely feeling it because of the adrenaline high, simply pulls the hold back more… but Janus does it again, this time full power, and Mike lets go of the hold in shock! Janus grabs Mike by the waist and shoves him off, standing up to his full height and yelling at Mike loudly, his eyes ablaze as he shakes out his neck and begins to stalk the challenger.

“Van Siclen once again locks Janus in the Cardinal Sin Clutch, but Janus still had enough to break the hold!”

“And that’s all Janus has had the strength to do at this point, Axis… I don’t think he has enough strength to get the tap from MVS!”

Janus grabs Van Siclen, lifting him up and into a DDT hold, the setup for the Rage Unleashed!

“What is Janus doing, King!?”

“Janus is looking for the Rage Unleashed, which could be very risky, as it’s going to put a lot of pressure on his neck!”

Janus lifts Mike up, into vertical suplex position, but just as King said his neck, weakened, can’t hold up, and he’s forced to drop Van Siclen in a weak front suplex variant! Mike, not affected fully by the move, gets to his feet slowly, as Janus wobbles around a bit, grabbing his neck in pain and leaning against the ropes for support, wiping blood off of his face!

“Looks like you were right, King!”

“Of course I was right. They don’t call me the King for nothing!”

Mike stands up fully, wobbling a bit and grabbing his neck, but he shakes his head thoroughly and looks at Janus, his line of vision clear! Van Siclen bounces off of the ropes, coming at Janus full steam… and giving him a violent leaping lariat, driving the back of Janus’ head into the cage! Janus’ head bounces off of the cage and falls to the mat limply, and the crowd gets a clear shot of the back of his head, his white ponytail, now an eerie shade of crimson. Van Siclen looks at Janus, seeing him gently come up and down on the mat, his breathing the only sign of consciousness.

And Mike smiles.

And then he gets on top of Janus, straddling the giant and one more time putting his arms behind his knees, locking Janus into a camel clutch… and then applying a Crossface to Janus’ neck, pulling the champion’s neck way back! Janus’ face once again twists into a mask of pain, of rage, of trying valiantly not to give up…

Trying valiantly not to give up…

And his hand hits the mat. And again. And again.

And Van Siclen lets go of the hold, standing up to his full height and raising his arms in the air.

And Janus’ head falls flat on the mat, blood beginning to form a small puddle on the mat.

And the referee signals for the bell.

-=: Ding Ding Ding :=-

“Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, and the NEEEEW SJL HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION… MIIIIIIIIIKE VA-AN SIIIIIC-LEEEEN!”

The crowd greets this news with a mixed reaction, partial cheering and partial booing echoing throughout the arena as the cage begins to lift skyward, leaving only Mike Van Siclen in the ring, standing over the falling giant’s body. Soapdish, having just retrieved the title, hands it to Mike, and the newly crowned champion lifts the title high into the air as we…

Fade to black…

March 10, 2003

Results:

-The Badass Maori, who's name I cannot fucking type for the life of me, is "The Matre 'D at the violence resturant, and you just sat down and ordered a big plate of whup ass!" bahahahahahaha! Regardless, he reminds Spike Jenkins of this fact.

-John Duran is ANGRY. He's a BULLY. He beats the crap out of Carpenter on this night, while he's at it.

-No match from Drew, yet. Results/Match edited in when I recieve it.

-And no match from Tod, yet, for Fosta/Blazenwing. Boo.

-Omega Storm keeps them winning ways, and his TV title, with another groovy first person perspective match.

-Blackwell wins again! Scary, scary, this man is.

-And lo, now with Atlas in fold, the Magnificent Seven are now up to eight. Tom better hurry and think up a new name. I mean, he's only been trying since... oh, October?

-...and immediately afterwards, Atlas prooves he really does belong in the M7, by retaining his title against the returning Manson!

-Igga (That's what I'm calling Va'aiga now, I can bloody type it) turns up, and kicks Spike's ass right around the ring for the first no.1 contendership to the World Title!

-Janus gets all pissy because Crow calls him by his real name. Well, hell. If I was supposed to be some kind of massive badass giant, and my real name was Terrance, I'd be miserable too.

-Meanwhile, Dace downs teh fuckin' Bird to claim the other!

-And, for the main event... heh heh heh. Read.

Great show, all. Alright, now, because I don't have the other TV title contendership match, this will hold up the card indefinately. Hopefully, I'll get the results soon, but til then...

SJL Wrath, March 9th, 2003!

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