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Guest realitycheck

The buzz in the First Union Centre hovers, as wrestling fans (And some leftover hockey fans, the FUC having been converted from a ring into wrestling mode in WORLD RECORD TIME) find their seats and chat idling... suddenly, the light dim, and a fixed spotlight shines down on the recognizable figure of Funyon. A deep voice sounds over arena stereo... "Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for our NATIONAL ANTHEM!"


Funyon clears his voice, as a familiar electronic rhythm sounds off...



"No matter how hard you try, you can't stop us now...


No matter how hard you try, you can't stop us now...


We're the renegades of this atomic age

This atomic age of renegades

Renegades of this atomic age

This atomic age of renegades


Since the Prehistoric ages and the days of ancient Greece

Right down through the Middle Ages

Planet earth kept going through changes

And then no renaissance came, and times continued to change

Nothing stayed the same, but there were always renegades

Like Chief Sitting Bull, Tom Paine

Dr. Martin Luther King, Malcom X

They were renegades of their time and age

So many renegades


We're the renegades of funk

We're the renegades of funk

We're the renegades of funk

We're the renegades of funk


From a different solar system many many galaxies away

We are the force of another creation

A new musical revelation

And we're on this musical mission to help the others listen

And groove from land to land singin' electronic chants like

Zulu nation


Destroy our nations

Destroy our nations

Destroy our nations

Destroy our nations

Destroy our nations

Destroy our nations


Now renegades are the people with their own philosophies

They change the course of history

Everyday people like you and me

We're the renegades we're the people

With our own philosophies

We change the course of history

Everyday people like you and me


We're the renegades of funk

We're the renegades of funk

We're the renegades of funk

We're the renegades of funk


Poppin', sockin', rockin' puttin' a side of hip-hop

Because where we're goin' there ain't no stoppin'

Poppin', sockin', puttin' a side of hip-hop

Because where we're goin' there ain't no stoppin'

Poppin', sockin', rockin' puttin' a side of hip-hop

'Cause we're poppin', sockin', rockin' puttin' a side of hip-hop

Poppin', sockin', rockin' puttin' a side of hip-hop


We're the renegades of funk

We're the renegades of funk

We're the renegades of funk

We're the renegades of funk


We're teachers of the funk

And not of empty popping

We're blessed with the force and the sight of electronics

With the bass, and the treble the horns and our vocals

'Cause everytime I pop into the beat we get fresh


There was a time when our music

Was something called the Bay Street beat

People would gather from all around

To get down to the big sound

You had to be a renegade in those days

To take a man to the dance floor


Say jam sucker

Say jam sucker

Say groove sucker

Say groove sucker

Say dance sucker

Say dance sucker

Now move sucker

Now move sucker


We're the renegades of funk!


We're the renegades of... FUNK!!!"

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Guest realitycheck





David Blazenwing vs Charlie "Grappler" Matthews vs Leo Breslin vs John Duran©

Poor John Duran just can't get a night off, can he? His string of matches for the TV title continues, this time opening up the PPV. David Blazenwing, Leo Breslin and Charlie Matthews are all very hungry for their first taste of SJL gold... can Duran shake off their advances, and keep going for the longest reign with the TV title he's been eyeing?

Rules: Elimination rules; Standard DQ, countout and pinfalls apply.



Spike Jenkins vs Kaine

Two men a bit lost in the shuffle and on cold streaks as of late get a chance to try and turn things around. And it's not exactly a fight without any history, either, as Kaine and Spike have faced each other before, several times... the most notable of which ending with a Kaine victory, where he then proceeded to lambaste Spike over the mic. Cold. Anyway, the winner here will likely be slung into the midst of a title hunt.

Rules: Standard singles match




Viktor Tarakanov vs Christian Blackwell©

The Red Rage has lived up to his nickname since joining the SJL... creating a whirlwind en route to gaining a shot at Christian Blackwell's European title. Can Viktor Tarakanov continue to cut a swath through his opposition? Or will Blackwell, coming off a STINGING loss on Crimson for the world title, take out his many frustrations on the man who appears to have never been informed the communist Soviet Union collapsed 11 years ago?

Rules: Pinfall, DQ and countout rules apply. The man with the most falls at the end of 30 minutes is the victor. If the falls are tied, the match will enter sudden-death overtime.




Va'aiga vs Tryst

Okay, Tryst, let's try this again... you get another ladder match. This time, for contendership of the world title. If you win, you get to pick the stipulation for your upcoming match. Of course, that's a little easier said than done versus Va'aiga... but at least he'll be out of his element in this match, right? Of course, the Badass Maori, who's yet to win a world title may want it more than you, might not even NEED the ladder to get at the match contract...

Rules: Ladder match rules. The contract for the world title match is hanging above the ring, sealed within the disco ball mentioned with the decor. First man to get his grubby meathooks on it (Via taking the ball down and breaking it) is declared the winner. The winner of this match will have a world title match AFTER the winner of Dace/Manson.




Dace Night vs Manson

The first of the night's matches featuring one of our bumpees, and it should be a goodie. The dastardly Dace, who recently turned his back on the crowd in his ruthless pursuit of Atlas and the SJL world title, gets one last chance at a shot... He faces off against Manson, the other mini-tournament finalist, in a what should be a fine match. And by "fine", I mean "bloody", but would Dace want what could be his last SJL match any other way?

Rules: There aren't any. Hah! Three limb loss limit, just so Dace knows when to reel himself in. IF Dace wins, he gets a shot at the SJL world champion on the next show. Which will be on the same day at Battleground. So he probably doesn't want that.





Sean Atlas vs Crow©

Some might call it an upset. Some might call it a shock. But regardless of what these people thing, Sean Atlas lost to Crow on Crimson, for the SJL world title. In what will be Sean's last JL match, he gets a chance to go down as a two-time, two-time SJL world champion, facing Crow in one of the most brutal match ideas ever concieved. These two will love it, I'm sure. It's time to fight out any left-over hate these two men have. For Atlas to cement that he really might be one of the best JL prospects in ages... and for Crowe to prove that his win was no "fluke".

Rules: Once both men enter the cell, the door is padlocked shut... theoretically preventing escape.

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Guest realitycheck

“Renegades of Funk” blares over the loud-system as the camera pans back to reveal thousands of fans jam-packing the absolutely sold-out First Union Center in lovely Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, all here to see one thing…




The disco ball, fifteen feet high, glitters high above the venue for tonight’s jam-packed night of wrestling action. Various strobes and lights flash off with every color of the spectrum, painting every section of the tightly-packed arena in a different color. Stagehands finalize the lovely shag carpet covering in the ringside area, as we finally pan in to see everyone’s favorite SJL announcers: Axis and Suicide King.


…but not in the attire you’d expect them in. Or is it? Axis is decked out in a complete angel flight suit: or, for those ignorant to the hip ‘70s culture, a complete disco suit, with a white jacket, a gold vest, and white pants with fake rhinestones down the side. The shirt underneath is shiny satin, with an overblown collar. On the other side of the announce booth, Suicide King stands, decked out in a polyester pinstripe leisure suit, with the top unbuttoned to reveal gold just dripping down his neck, a porn star moustache…and an afro.


Axis: Ladies and gentlemen, WELCOME to Smarks Junior League BRINGIN’ THE FUNK~! I am the always-stylish Axis, next to my funkadelic partner in crime, SUICIDE KING~!


King: Let me say one thing, Axis. I don’t know WHO put me in this garb. I mean…POLYESTER?! I’ll be dying of heat exhaustion before the show’s even over. And don’t get me started on the afro. Although, some stella came up to me and after looking at me in my suit, told me I looked like John Travolta-


Axis: Except you’re-


King: More handsome, yeah, I already knew that. But thanks for reminding me.


Axis: That’s just gravy, King. But what a far-out card we have this evening. The SJL Championship is on the line when Sean Atlas tries to regain his Championship from Crow, inside the unforgiving Hell in a Cell. Dace Night will take on Manson for Title contendership in what promises to be a brutal affair, and the Maori Badass Va’aiga will fight the Sherwood Fable Tryst in what should be a spectacular ladder match.


King: But, what’s the first match on the card? A BOSS fatal four-way elimination match for the SJL Television Championship. John Duran has been on a roll lately, defeating everything in his path, trying to be the longest-reigning TV Champ in SJL history.


Axis: But, of course, there are three other men in this match.


King: You didn’t let me finish, jive turkey! Ever since making his comeback and dropping the superhero gimmick, David Blazenwing has been chasing Duran and his TV Title. He couldn’t get the job done last week, but he may overcome and win tonight. And then there’s Leo Breslin. This guy had a strong showing against Syndicate last week, which put him in the TV Title picture. And then there’s my pick.


Axis: Which would be…?


King: Dude, mellow out. Charlie “Grappler” Matthews is MY choice to win the whole thing. He is the total package: Strength, technical ability, charisma.


Axis: Ha!


King: …not to mention a great manager.


Axis: It’s actually not a bold prediction to say any of these four men could walk out tonight with the SJL Television Championship.


King: Exactly. Slide me some slack, man.


Axis: Let’s get to it and begin what should be a spectacular night of action at SJL BRINGIN’ THE FUNK~!




Suddenly, the lights go out, and the crowd pops in anticipation…




“All My Life” blares through the sound system as flames sporadically shoot off. Leo Breslin emerges from the curtain to a great reaction from the crowd.




He begins walking down the hardwood ramp to the ring with determination in his eyes as a single spotlight follows him. Once he reaches the shag carpet, he slides into the ring, and hastily jumps up, leaping into the air.




One final shot of pyro shoots off, and then…




The turnbuckles set alight with pyro, until the song stops and Leo awaits his opponents, as the lights go off again.




The crowd cheers wildly as “The Game” blasts through the arena and David Blazenwing steps out of the curtain. He does the Blazenwing pose, which ignites a shower of pyro to fall from the heavens as he walks to the ring.




He slides into the ring and hits each turnbuckle, seemingly to a bigger pop each time. He finally sits down in a corner as the music stops and the lights come back on.


The house lights dim, and the crowd busts out the jeers, knowing what’s approaching next. Sure enough, Charlie “Grappler” Matthews steps out of the curtain, with nothing but determination in his face. He is followed by James Matheson, who, for the occasion, is dressed in a psychedelic tie-dye suit and matching tie.


“And, ladies and gentlemen, from Kansas City, Missouri, weighing in at 299 pounds and accompanied by his manager, James Matheson, this is Charlie “Grappler” Matthews!”


Once the two men reach the shag-carpeted ringside area, they walk over to the timekeeper’s table and get a microphone, as James Matheson briefly speaks.


Axis: Oh, have I ever been so lucky.


King: You should be ecstatic that he decided to grace us with his superior speaking ability.


“Let me tell ya something, folks. Tonight, the reign of tradition begins. It seems like you people have failed to accept Charlie Matthews. In case you’ve forgot, people like HIM are what made this great sport what it is today! Old-school is what put wrestling on the map, and it’s what will bring wrestling into the FUTURE. Those who don’t conform will be re-educated…TONIGHT. That’s right, baby. Tonight, after Charlie Matthews is crowned the SJL Television Champion, you will all learn to appreciate the style that brought him to Championship victory.”


Matheson drops the microphone, and Matthews slowly enters the ring, not even paying attention to the other two men inside.


Out of nowhere, the opening distortions of “Sinner” blare over the First Union Center as none other than John Duran steps out of the entryway.




As he walks to the ring, he extends his TV Title out for a fan to touch it, but as they try he immediately pulls it away from them as random fans give him the finger.


King: Haha! I love it! John Duran, what a great champion!


Duran enters the ring from the apron and walks to the center, proudly, but angrily, displaying his Television Championship. Suddenly, however, Blazenwing jumps up from his seat in the corner and charges behind Duran, extending his arm out and blasting the Champion with a clothesline to the back of the head, and referee Eddy Long signals for the bell to begin this contest!




Blazenwing, still upset over his TV Championship loss to Duran on Crimson, begins pounding the champion, who was floored by said clothesline, with brutal right-handed fists to the back of the head.


Axis: Wow, what a solid way to start off this match! And, unsurprisingly, David Blazenwing immediately went after champion John Duran!


In the center of the ring, Charlie Matthews and Leo Breslin meet, toe to toe. They stare each other down for a minute, before they intertwine their arms in a collar-elbow tie-up. Breslin uses his speed to grab onto the right arm of Matthews, twist it, and work an arm wringer. However, Matthews quickly ducks under his arm to relieve the pressure, and wraps his massive arm around the head of Breslin, and squeezing tight in a headlock. On the other side of the ring, Duran finally reaches his feet, and both he and Blazenwing trade hard punches to the face, until Grappler whips Breslin, from the headlock, right into both Duran and Blazenwing.


King: That doesn’t look like a very smart move. Charlie Matthews may have just pissed off all three men!

When Breslin runs into Duran & Blazenwing, all three men stop and turn to face the old-school warrior. They look at each other and nod.


Axis: You’re right, King. This doesn’t look good!


Breslin then backs into the ropes, propelling him forward. He extends his arm up and high, hitting Matthews with a clothesline…but Grappler remains on his feet, albeit a bit wobbly. Duran then runs in next, using his weight as momentum to blast him forward. He runs into Matthews shoulder-first, knocking Grappler into the opposite ropes. He bounces back, and the last competitor, Blazenwing, sprints off of the ropes, leaps into the air, extends his arm, and nails a huge clothesline on Matthews, which finally brings him to the mat, as the fans explode!


Axis: Wow! It just took three men to take down Charlie Matthews. And what velocity by Blazenwing on that final blow!


Not to be shown up, however, Matthews rushes to his feet. Leo Breslin once again turns his focus to the old-school warrior, and waylays him with hard right hand shots to the head. However, Charlie stops this flurry by lifting his left knee right into the gut of Leo, doubling him over. Grappler then brings his arm into the air, and with a hammer-like blow, drops it hard over the back of Breslin, sending him face-down to the mat. Matthews gets on the ground with him, and wraps his legs around the midsection of Breslin, squeezing hard.


King: Heh, only a few minutes into this match and Grappler goes to what he does best- wrestling.


Axis: Indeed. Nice body scissors executed. Meanwhile, look what’s going on between Blazenwing and Duran! These two men have had their fair share of encounters in the past!


On the other side of the ring, Duran has Blazenwing in the turnbuckle, and after one hard left jab, he walks a little ways back, extends his leg out to David’s throat, and chokes him with his boot. Referee Eddy Long immediately jumps to this, reminding Duran that he could be disqualified. He then begins his count.












Duran breaks the choke at the very last second, and as Blazenwing staggers out of the corner, the Champion, at Blazenwing’s side, wraps his right arm around the midsection of his opponent, and in one swift motion, lifts him into the air, and sits down, dropping David down in a side salto.


Axis: In the early stages of this match, it looks like John Duran is dominant.


King: What the-? Charlie Matthews STILL has the body scissors on!


King’s words are true; however, Leo begins to fight the crushing submission, doing everything he can to squirm around the death-grip of Matthews’ legs. Finally, Breslin is able to break away, much to the delight of the live crowd, not only because they are Breslin fans, but because the submission was broken. Matthews and Breslin both reach their feet, and Breslin meets Grappler with a hard kick to the midsection. He follows this up by grabbing the arm of Matthews, pushing him into the ropes, and whipping him across the ring. Charlie bounces off the opposite ropes and comes back, where Leo is waiting for him. Leo is bent over, and as Matthews comes back, Breslin grabs the legs of Grappler, and stands up, which propels Charlie into the air, up and over, as he crashes to the mat back-first.


Axis: Beautifully executed back body drop there by Leo Breslin, his first big offensive move in this match.


King: And would you look- Blazenwing and Duran are having what some redneck hicks would call a SLOBBER KNOCKER~!!


David Blazenwing and John Duran trade punches, and Blazenwing extends his arm for a clothesline, but Duran ducks under the attack, swings his arm forward and chops the chest of one of the challengers, as the crowd elicits a loud “WOOO!” with every chop.














Duran grabs Blazenwing’s arm and pushes him into the opposite ropes. Duran lifts his arm into the air for a forearm smash, but David ducks this, runs to the other ropes, and comes back. Duran turns around to meet his opponent, and then Blazenwing leaps high into the air vertically, and his momentum carries him to fall right on top of Duran, taking them down. Blazenwing follows this up with piston-like right hands, dazing the Champion as the crowd lets out a big pop.


Axis: Lou Thesz Press! God rest his soul, King. But Blazenwing is on fire!


King: And Breslin still has the advantage on Charlie Matthews! It looks like he’s lining him up for a spear or something.


Leo Breslin, holding onto the ropes for support, awaits Charlie to reach his feet, and once he does, Leo runs with all the speed he can muster, lowers his shoulder, and catches Matthews right in the stomach with a forceful tackle, sending him once again to his back. Meanwhile, Blazenwing stands in a turnbuckle corner, telling the crowd to get on their feet. They buzz in anticipation, and once Duran comes to his feet and turns around, David catches him with a kick to the gut, which doubles the champion over. Blazenwing then sticks Duran’s head between his legs, and underhooks both of the arms of John Duran.


Axis: KING!! It’s time for the Blazecution! The champion could be the first one eliminated in this match!


King: Groovy.


David Blazenwing is about to leap into the air to send Duran crashing to the ground, when Leo Breslin comes up behind him, wrapping his left arm around the throat of Blazenwing, and dropping him down in a reverse DDT! However, since Duran was still tucked between the legs of Blazenwing, as David falls, John Duran holds onto the legs and rolls over, flipping the legs into a pinning bridge!












Axis: Oh my God! What an innovative counter, and we almost had an elimination there!


King: Groovy.


Duran looks into the eyes of Leo Breslin with almost gratitude, but brings his foot up hard into his stomach, puts his hand around the crotch area, and his other arm around Breslin’s head, and lifts him up sideways. He then falls backwards, flipping Breslin over onto his back as he hits the canvas in a hard fall-away slam.


King: Ha, I love it! What a great show of gratitude by John Duran!


Axis: Oh, please. You can’t trust that snake at all.


Meanwhile, Blazenwing reaches his feet, but Charlie Matthews is waiting for him. Matthews turns Blazenwing around so he’s facing his back, and Grappler ducks under David’s left arm. He then grabs the back and the left side of Blazenwing’s tights and pulls him up into the air, but brings him right back down, buttocks-first across the knee of Charlie Matthews with an atomic drop. The force of the move sends Blazenwing into the ropes, and he immediately comes right back, so Charlie kneels down a bit, wraps his arms across the back of Blazenwing, and lifts him up into the air, and brings him down crotch-first across his knee in an INVERTED atomic drop!


Axis: How about that! A normal atomic drop followed by an INVERTED atomic drop!


King: What an amazing wrestler Charlie Matthews truly is.


Surprisingly, this STILL doesn’t send David Blazenwing to the mat, so Charlie grabs the left arm of Blazenwing, lifting it into the air. With Grappler’s left hand, he sends a punch RIGHT into the heart of David, which sends him to the mat.


Axis: Can’t get much more old school than the good old heart punch, I guess.


Grappler picks up Blazenwing, bringing him to his feet. However, John Duran, like most people, is one step ahead of Charlie Matthews, as he runs towards Blazenwing and leaps into the air, driving his knee right into the face of David Blazenwing. David staggers to the ropes, almost hanging off of them for support. Matthews and Duran nod at each other, before interlocking their hands and running at Blazenwing with arms extended, as they crash into his throat. This double clothesline forces David to do a complete three-sixty out of the ring, hitting the shag carpet hard.


King: Leave it to Blazenwing to stain the lovely shag carpet with the first drops of sweat tonight.


Matthews allows Duran to exit the ring and further the punishment on Blazenwing, as Grappler sets his eyes on Leo Breslin. He walks over to Leo, who’s still down, and lifts his upper body off the canvas. He then locks his 23-inch arm around the neck and throat of Leo, in a malevolent CHINLOCK.


King: Oooooh yeah, baby. Charlie Matthews is BRINGIN DA FUNK TONIGHT~!


Axis: And would you look, Duran and Blazenwing pick up outside the ring where they left off inside!


Duran and Blazenwing trade punches on the outside, as the referee begins his ten count!


Axis: We could have a DOUBLE elimination in about ten seconds!




Duran blocks a punch and grabs Blazenwing’s arm.




Duran then pulls on the arm and whips Blazenwing into the ring barricade…




…but Blazenwing reverses the momentum, and John Duran goes crashing into the steel barricade!




Duran comes bounding back, right to the waiting Blazenwing.




Blazenwing catches the oncoming champion with a boot to the midsection, and Duran doubles over.




Blazenwing tucks Duran’s head between his legs for the Blazecution!


King: On shag carpet? How much would it hurt?




However, what referee Eddy Long doesn’t see is Duran slip out of the hold and bring his foot up, punting Blazenwing square in the testicles!




Duran catches his bearings as Blazenwing crumples to the carpet in pain.




John Duran slowly walks back to the ring, and puts his hands on the apron…and re-enters the ring.




King: That’s it! David Blazenwing has been eliminated via count-out!




Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, as a result of a count-out, David Blazenwing has been ELIMINATED!”


John Duran breathes a sigh of relief inside the ring. However, he notices Matthews still has the vicious chinlock on Leo Breslin, and notices the crowd getting restless, so he does what any good heel would do…


Axis: Look at this! John Duran wraps in a chinlock on Charlie Matthews! Double submission!


Blazenwing, on the other hand, is conferring with a referee on the outside…he can’t believe he was eliminated. He tries to reason with the referee, but decides to forget it.


King: Wait…why is Blazenwing coming over here? Hello? The exit is THAT way!


David throws the timekeeper out of his chair and gets what he was looking for…




The crowd lets out an enormous pop as Blazenwing hoists the weapon high into the air. Despite the referees’ calls to him to stop, Blazenwing continues into the ring. Duran, sensing something is up, releases the chinlock, which in-turn causes Matthews to release his hold. Duran turns around…




Duran falls to the canvas less-than-gracefully, and Matthews faces the aggressor. The enraged Blazenwing catches him with a HARD SLEDGEHAMMER SHOT RIGHT TO THE GUT, which doubles Matthews over. Blazenwing follows this up with a SLEDGE SHOT TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD!


King: Someone STOP this madman! He’s ruining this match!


Axis: Do YOU want to tell him that?


The crowd lets out a collective “ooh!” as Grappler falls, and, for the hell of it, Blazenwing sees Breslin staggering to his feet, and he catches HIM with a hard sledge shot to the midsection as well! All three men are down, and the crowd is buzzing! Finally, officials spill out to bring a crazed Blazenwing to the back, as he stares maniacally at the participants still in the match.


King: FINALLY we’ve restored order…I don’t feel safe with Blazenwing around.


The men aren’t stirring, and since this is elimination, the ref begins a count-out!








Axis: They better hurry up here, we may have a no-contest decision!






Matthews and Duran finally begin to stir, and Leo clutches his ribs in pain.






Duran uses the ropes to slowly pull himself up, and Matthews uses the turnbuckle to do the same.




Both men just stand there, deciding to let Leo Breslin get counted out. However, Leo begins to move…




And Leo grabs the ropes, pulling himself to his feet. However, Duran rushes right behind him, wrapping his arm around the back of Leo’s leg, bringing him over into a schoolboy!










Leo Breslin falls back onto his stomach to avoid the pinning predicament, and Grappler lumbers over to Duran. He stands back to back with him, and they interlock arms, fighting over a backslide. However, Grappler is able to drop to his knees, sliding Duran off his back, shoulders down on the canvas!









Charlie lumbers to his feet, and turns around to find Leo Breslin…who’s waiting for him, as he wraps one arm around Charlie’s head and the other around his leg, and he falls backwards, rolling him up in a small package!











Axis: Wow, what an amazing exchange of pinfall sequences going on in this contest now!


King: I’m not surprised. These are three of the best guys in the SJL today, in my opinion, of course.


Out of nowhere, Breslin sees John Duran, kicks him in the ribs, and as Duran doubles over, Breslin puts his head between his legs, locks his hands together, and hoists Duran over his shoulders and onto his back. He extends the arms, and throws him down with the RAZOR’S EDGE~!


Axis: He could be going for the Breslin Deluxe, and this could be over for the Champion!


Breslin then grabs the legs of Duran and turns them around, into the Liontamer! However, sensing an opening, Charlie Matthews lumbers over to Leo Breslin, and with Breslin still holding onto the Walls, Grappler wraps his arms around the back of Breslin and squeezes tight!




Axis: Amazing! A double submission!


Instinctively, the crowd erupts in a “Booooooooooring!” chant. However, Matthews is squeezing on the bearhug so hard, Breslin is forced to release the hold on the Walls of Jericho! Grappler squeezes with all of his might, but Duran has time to recover from the hold.


Axis: Ooookay then, playa, he’s had the bearhug on for about….ooh, a minute now…


King: Patience is a virtue, pal.


However, Duran has recovered, as he goes behind Charlie, with the bearhug locked in, and sends his forearm hard into Matthews’ kidney. Matthews lets go of the hold a bit, but still has it somewhat locked in. The champion then puts his head under the armpit of Matthews, grabs his tights and lifts him up, and brings him down neck-first to the mat.


Axis: FINALLY! Duran breaks the excruciatingly boring bearhug spot with a nice back-suplex.


Matthews hustles to his feet, but John Duran is waiting for him, as he wraps his arm around the head of Grappler in a front face lock, and then falls backwards, driving his head to a mat in a DDT! As Matthews flips over onto his back, Leo Breslin climbs the top rope. However, before he can attempt a top-rope maneuver, Duran backs into the ropes, sending Breslin down crotch-first on the turnbuckle! Duran then follows Leo up to the top turnbuckle, and stands him up. He puts him in a front face lock and puts Leo’s arm over his head, grabs the tights, and lifts him into the air, and leaps off the turnbuckle, sending him down with a Superplex…and Breslin lands RIGHT ON TOP OF CHARLIE MATTHEWS!!


Axis: Oh my God! A superplex senton! Innovation at its finest!


Duran TOSSES Breslin out of the way and hooks the leg of Matthews, screaming at the referee to hurry up.











Breslin and Duran reach their feet and begin trading punches, until Breslin ducks an extended arm of Duran and puts his hands under the champion’s armpits, as he shoots him into the air and rotates, spinning him around and down, as Duran crashes to the mat.


Axis: SKY HIGH~! Breslin may be onto something here!


King: There ain’t no way Duran is going down to that.


Breslin once again, seeing both men down, slowly scales the turnbuckles, but he keeps his back towards the ring!


Axis: Wait…it looks like Breslin may be going for a moonsault!


King: Hey, he NEVER goes for this! What is he thinking?!


Leo Breslin, with seemingly nothing to lose, pushes off the turnbuckles, vaults backwards, and goes flying through the air with a beautiful moonsault…until BOTH Duran and Grappler move out of the way, and Breslin lands onto the canvas face-first!


King: See? Some risks just AREN’T worth it!


Duran, quick as a cat, grabs Breslin, still on his stomach, wraps his arm around the back of Leo’s left leg, and rolls him over onto his back, grabbing a generous handful of tights as Eddy Long counts!















Axis: That’s IT! Breslin is gone!




Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, Leo Breslin has been ELIMINATED!”


King: Cheat to win, baby! And now we’re down to two!


Charlie Matthews and John Duran get to their feet and stand toe-to-toe. Duran smirks, and then extends his arm out forward, and with his hand, grasps the throat of Charlie Matthews, preparing for the choke slam. Duran then puts his hand on Grappler’s back and tries to lift him into the air, but Charlie stops this with an elbow shot to the back of Duran’s head, which breaks the choke. When Duran comes back to face Matthews, it’s CHARLIE that extends his arm, grasping DURAN’S throat for the choke slam! As HE puts his hand on Duran’s back, Duran uses the same escape method that Charlie Matthews did.


Axis: And it looks like we’re at a stalemate here! Wow!


Both men then turn around to face each other, and at the SAME time, lunge for each other’s throats, and they BOTH grasp each other in chokes! They both stand in the middle of the ring, each using their free hand to try and break their opponent’s death-grip. Finally, Grappler ducks under Duran’s arm, grabs the tights of the champion, and uses them to hoist him up and bring him down with the CHOKESLAM!


King: Finally. I was starting to get worried there.


Axis: We may be close to seeing a new TV Champion being crowned here!


Grappler, without missing a beat, grabs Duran by the legs tightly, lifts his lower body off the mat, and begins spinning around.


King: Oh…my…God. It’s back.




Matthews spins around and around, 7 rotations in all, before dropping Duran to the mat and catching himself with a bit of dizziness. Charlie stumbles around the ring, trying to regain his senses. Seeing he can catch his challenger off guard, Duran reaches his feet and rushes to Grappler…


Axis: But wait! It looks like Matthews was feigning his dizziness!


As Duran runs in, Matthews catches him by the legs, lifts him into the air, and spins him around, sending him CRASHING to the mat with a spinebuster! James Matheson, who has been behaving rather well during the match, begins pounding on the mat, telling his entourage to go for the cover. Charlie obliges, wrapping his left arm around the near leg of Duran.












King: What a BRILLIANT move by Charlie Matthews! And he ALMOST became the new TV Champion! C’mon Axis, admit to this guy’s greatness.


Axis: Oh, he’s good, and he’s smart. I just don’t like his character. Especially that rat-manager of his.


Charlie begins to show a bit of frustration across his face as he lifts Duran off of the canvas. He grabs Duran by the arm and pushes him into the ropes, shoving him off with an Irish whip. However, John somehow reverses the move, sending Grappler into the ropes. As Matthews comes charging back, Duran, quickly, reaches under Matthews’ legs, and wraps his other arm around the head, and twists around, bringing Charlie down with a powerslam!


Axis: Wow, don’t count the TV Champ out! What a maneuver!


Instead of going for a cover, Duran waits in the corner for Charlie Matthews to reach his feet. Once he does, he stands back-towards Duran. He stumbles right into Duran, who locks his arms under the armpits of Grappler in a full-nelson, lifts him into the air, and DROPS him down into a big atomic drop!


King: THE BREAK POINT~! THE BREAK POINT~! This one could be over!


Duran then goes to his back with Grappler still in the full-nelson, and wraps his legs around Grappler’s chest in a body scissors!


Axis: It looks like the TV Champion himself is taking Grappler to a wrestling lesson right now…will he tap?


Charlie Matthews hollers in pain, trying desperately to break either the full-nelson or the body scissors. Matthews’ hand falls from his chest to the mat, and he looks nearly lifeless.


King: Ref! Check for the submission! I can taste the end to this match coming!


Eddy Long comes down to the mat, and lifts up Matthews’ hand, to begin the count.






THE ARM DROPS TWICE~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!












Axis: NO!!! WAIT!!! Matthews is still in this!


Matthews is now doing all he can to break out of the hold, and he begins to bring his legs up into the air. Once they are in the air, Grappler tries to send then backwards over his head. This momentum sends Matthews ALL the way over, on top of Duran, which breaks the body scissors. However, the Full-nelson is still on…


Axis: But wait! Duran’s shoulders are down in a pinning predicament!


Eddy Long drops to the canvas…















NO!!!! KICKOUT!!!!!!!


Axis: Well a good thing about that pin was that it forced Duran to break the hold in order to escape the pinning predicament!


Matthews leans back into a turnbuckle to wait for Duran to reach his feet, and to also catch a breather for his bruised ribs. Once Duran turns around, Grappler, in one smooth motion, kicks Duran in the stomach, puts John’s head between his legs, locks his hands, and pulls Duran up into the air, into almost a sitting position, before throwing him down to the canvas with all of the force he can muster!




James Matheson leaps into the air in victory, and continues to jump up and down as Grappler wraps both of his arms around the legs of Duran in a cradle…































NO!!! KICKOUT BY DURAN AT 2.9999999999~!


Axis: How close can you get?!


Charlie Matthews is absolutely fuming now, and James Matheson is sweating bullets.


King: How in the HELL did John Duran kick out of that?


Matthews, with tenacity, once again puts Duran’s head between his legs and lifts his arms into the air, clenching his fists, signaling for yet ANOTHER POWERBOMB! However, before he can lift the Champion, Duran stands up, sending Matthews flipping over and crashing on his back! Grappler quickly stumbles to his feet, but Duran kicks him in the stomach, hooks both of Grappler’s arms in a double underhook, lifts up Grappler with all of his power and drops down, hitting a Double Underhook DDT!!! Duran hooks his left arm around the far leg of Grappler…

























NO! KICKOUT AT 2.999999999999999~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


James Matheson nearly LEAPS onto the apron, and begins to distract the attention of Eddy Long! Long tries to get Matheson out of his face, but it’s not working.


Axis: Damnit, why don’t they discuss the weather while they’re at it.


King: Well, just so you know, it’ll be 64 degrees and sunny tomorrow.


Duran picks up Charlie Matthews and locks his arms under Matthews’ arms, in what looks to be for another Break Point, but Matthews drops to his knees, forcing Duran’s chin to crush into the head of Grappler! Duran staggers backwards, and Matthews lifts his foot up, sending his boot into the face of John Duran! He looks at a fallen Duran in a mix of intense frustration and disgust before walking towards the ropes.


Axis: What the hell!? Why is Matheson STILL distracting the referee?


King: I think it’s quite evident. Look, Matthews is coming over here! You don’t think he’s going to…


Axis: …break his code? You’ve got to be kidding me!


King: But it looks like that’s what’s going to happen! Look!


Matthews walks over to the timekeeper and tosses him aside, and grabs his chair. He folds it, and slides back into the ring on his stomach. At the same time, Duran is reaching his feet. Matthews, with an enraged look in his eyes, raises the chair high into the air…










Axis: Oh my GOD! That was one of the SICKEST chairshots I’ve ever seen!


King: I cannot believe this! The code has FINALLY been broken, and James Matheson can’t be happier!


Matheson jubilantly leaps off the apron, as Matthews forcefully brings Duran to his feet. He kicks him in the midsection, and puts his head between his legs. He pulls Duran up in the air into the sitting position, and sends him CRASHING to the mat with another POWERBOMB~!


King: YES! This *HAS* to be it!


Matthews grabs a headlock on Duran with his right arm, and a hook of the leg with his right arm, and locks his hands together for the count by Eddy Long!









































Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, and new Smarks Junior League Television Champion, Charlie ‘Grappler’ Matthews.”


James Matheson acts like he’s just won the lottery, as he slides into the ring and dances with joy. He steals the TV title away from the referee and hands it to Charlie Matthews, who finally reaches his feet.


Axis: Hey…Matthews doesn’t look to happy. Almost distraught.


Indeed, Matthews stares into space, almost ignorant to what just happened. Sitting on the canvas, he simply stares at his hands as Matheson dances with the belt.


King: I think he’s having second thoughts about breaking his code! What the hell!?


James Matheson finally hands the belt to Charlie Matthews, who still doesn’t look to happy. He stares at the belt, stands up, and tells Matheson to put the belt around his waist. Matheson gleefully obliges, and Matheson stands tall with the belt around his waist, although he still looks forlorn. They begin to exit the ring, as Matheson holds the ropes open for the new TV Champion.


Axis: Well, whether he likes the way he did it or not, Charlie Matthews is the NEW SJL Television Champion!


King: And suckas, this is only the psychedelic beginning of a far-out night of action at SJL Bringin’ The Funk~!


…did I just say that?


Axis chuckles as we fade to an ad for Hollywood Spike Jenkins thongs.

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Guest realitycheck

The SJL’s latest Pay Per View extravaganza continues, the camera leaving the in-ring action following the Four-way TV Title Match and moving to the backstage area, Ben Hardy standing backstage with recent addition to the SJL, Syndicate. A cheer goes up as crowd recognises the fan favourite, standing in the suitably Funked up backstage setting, shag carpeting, rainbow designs, disco lights swirling around and lava lamps galore.


Hardy: “I’m standing here with JL star Syndicate, who after a promising start to his Junior League career has been on a bit of a slide, dropping a streak of matches over the last few weeks, most recently to Leo Breslin on Crimson. Now Syndicate, you’re not booked tonight, what are your feelings about that?”


Syndicate: “Well of course I’m not happy about being left off the card, who wouldn’t be? Especially with this being a Pay Per View event I’d love to be in action, but truthfully I don’t deserve to be. Sure I got a win over Omega Storm in my debut, but since then I’ve stunk up the joint, I’m on a losing streak the likes of which would make Cutthroat hang his head in shame.”


Hardy: “We’ve just seen four men go at it with the Television Title on the line, including John Duran, David Blazenwing and Leo Breslin, three men you’ve lost to over the last couple of shows…”


Syndicate: “You’re right, I did lose to them. I should have been in that opening match for the TV Title, but I blew my shot at Duran for the belt, and I’ve blown every opportunity I’ve had since. But you know what, that’s all in the past. I underestimated my opponents, and I made mistakes that ultimately cost me matches, but starting next show that’s all over, it’s buried in the past. John Duran, David Blazenwing, Leo Breslin, Terry Wayne, Charlie Matthews, I don’t care who it is, if I have to go through them one by one I will. I’ll show the world I’m not just some opening match jobber, and I’ll put the SJL Television Title around my waist, whether anyone else likes it or not.”


Hardy: “What makes you so sure you can come back from your recent losses and capture your first piece of SJL gold?”


Syndicate: “Oh, I have a few tricks up my sleeve, but you’ll find out about that in due time. I’ve learnt a thing or two following my losses, and I can promise you I won’t be making the same mistakes from now on. Just wait and watch, I guarantee the name Syndicate will be etched onto the TV Title before too long.”


As the crowd cheers the thought of Syndicate as Television champion, the Oregon native walks off backstage to watch the rest of the event, leaving Hardy behind.


Hardy: “Well Syndicate has made his feelings known here, but next we’ve got a singles contest between Kaine and “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins, a match that’s sure to burn the house down, and it’s coming up NEXT!”

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Guest realitycheck

As we return from what has to be the millionth SWF Battleground commercial, we find ourselves back in the First Union Center. To the puzzlement of the fans, ““The Jester’’s Dance”” begins dancing it’’s way out of the loud speakers.


King: Now where have I heard that music before?




True to Axis’’ words, none of other than Danny Williams confidently struts down the hard wood ramp to the lovely shag carpet that surrounds the ring.


King: What the hell is he doing here! I swear if he announces another retirement....


Williams snatches a microphone, and makes his way into the ring. The crowd gives a brief ovation until the music fades out, leaving Williams quietly standing beneath the disco ball.


““Sorry for the interruption folks, I’’ll just say what I have too, and get the hell out here.””


The promise of a short promo draws a big pop from the blood thirsty Philadelphia fans.


“Thank you.”, accepts Williams with a nod,”Now, let me tell you why I’’m here. I’’ve had my eye on the SJL for a while now, searching for the future of the SWF. That search has led me to two men, two men who in my eyes are destined for greatness. I’’m here to offer these men the guidance that I never had, and hopefully help them reach the next level. So I would like to introduce you to my new stablemates.........DACE NIGHT and VA’’AIGA!”


Smoke billows out from the entrance area, lit red by the gateway lights as red lasers shine across the entrance area, creating a mesh of light.

The arena PA comes to life as the line ““LET FREEDOM RING WITH A SHOTGUN BLAST!”” starts up Davidian by Machinehead, and as a blast of Pyro fires off upwards from the top of the SmarkTron, red strobe lights light the passage up the entrance ramp. Dace Night and Va’’aiga step confidently through the laser mesh out of the smoke and stride purposefully up the ramp into the ring, appearing as if in slow motion because of the rapidly pulsating red glare. Va’’aiga throws back the hood of his training top and surveys the crowd as Dace throws the horns and stares out into the darkness of the crowd.


With Dace and Va’gia at his sides, Williams continues,“So out of the entire SJL why did I select these two men? As far as personality goes, you won’t find three people that will have as less in common as we do. Hell, even our wrestling styles are rather different. But what we do have in common is our dedication to this fed, our hard work, and will to win. It is our drive to succeed that unites us, unlike M7, who are only motivated by greed and political gain. ”


The crowd begins to applaud, but Williams cuts them off.


“But make no mistake, we are no Holy Trinity of warriors who are here to save the SWF from the forces of evil. Were out for ourselves, and as far as were concerned, everyone else is just a speed bump in our way to the top!”


Once again, the crowd applauds as Machine blasts it’s way back out of the loud speakers. The three men climb out of the ring, looking very confident and focused.


Axis: And there you have it, the birth of an Unholy Trinity! Two of the most successful athletes in the SJL has joined forces under the guidance of Danny Williams with the intent of conquering the SWF!


King: It’s about time we got another stable in here, though they sure as hell an’t no Midnight Carnival, they can still give the SWF the kick in the ass it needs.


Axis: Right now fans, we’d like to take this opportunity to remind you about SWF Battleground which will be heading your way, live on Pay Per View next Sunday!

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Guest realitycheck

As dancers step out onto the entranceway, dancing up a storm under a huge disco ball and under neon lights, the mood is suddenly turned very sour as the Russian National Anthem begins to play and the lights die away. The dancers grumble as they walk off stage, nearly being hit with the red pyro that explodes on the entranceway! As cool as you like, Viktor Tarakanov walks out from behind the black curtain, checking his wrist tape and boots, paying no attention to the fans who boo him with a passion. As he reaches the ring, he simply sneers at them, and flashes a sick smile before sliding into the ring.


(Axis) “SJL ‘Bringin’ the Funk’ continues with our third match of the evening! And I can safely say that neither of these two men will be bringing the funk, maybe bringing the pain, and maybe even the booze, but neither are as hip or cool as me…”


(King) “You’re a total square man, that leg brace just isn’t cool! And how dare you say that Tarakanov isn’t cool, just look at him! He has the chest hair! He has…”


(Axis) “A desire to become the next SJL European Champion, but that will be no easy thing as he takes on Christian Blackwell, who suffered a brutal loss on Crimson where he narrowly missed out on winning the SJL Championship. His pride may be shattered, but he’ll be looking to repair it tonight with a win over the extremely impressive Viktor Tarakanov.”


(King) “His pride won’t be the only thing shattered after facing Tarakanov. He is without a doubt, the hardest hitter in the Junior League, and Blackwell better be prepared or he’ll be overwhelmed quickly!”


Tarakanov stretches and checks his wrist tape every five seconds as Funyon, decked out in a psychedelic tuxedo, yells out to the capacity crowd…


(Funyon) “The following match is a IRON MAN MATCH! And it will last for 30 minutes. The man with the most falls after this time will be declared the winner, but if the falls are tied after the allotted time, we will go into over time, which will be SUDDEN DEATH! The first fall will win the match and the Smarks Junior League EUROPEAN CHAMPIONSHIP!”


Tarakanov nods confidently, gazing out at the massive crowd who all cheer in unison, all of them can’t wait to see this match.


(Funyon) “Introducing first, from Astrakahn, Russia. He stands at six foot six and weighs in at two hundred and eighty pounds… he is the ‘Red Rage’, he is… VIKTOR TARAAAAAKKKAAAANNNOOOVVVV!”


The cheers are soon replaced with boos as Tarakanov hears his name called out, and raises his arm to the fans, smirking as he waves to them all.


(King) “Tarakanov will be especially dangerous in the Iron Man environment… He can knock you down quickly and easily and have 5 falls on you in no time!”


(Axis) “But he’s not facing just another jobber, he’s up against Christian Blackwell, who was on a seven match streak before falling to Crow on Crimson. He’s been working overtime to climb the ladder in the JL, and lately he’s looked fatigued, let’s just hope he rested up for this match…”


The rather annoying Russian National Anthem finally fades out… as “Three Libra’s” by a Perfect Circle kicks up to a mass of cheers from the fans! The lights dim down until only the disco ball shines over the center of the ring. Tarakanov eyes his opponent as he slowly walks out onto the entranceway, not acknowledging the fans cheers, instead, he stares straight at the hard wood ramp… then at Tarakanov, his face a picture of intensity as he climbs up the steps the ring, entering through the ropes.


(Funyon) “… And his opponent, from Rosslare, Ireland. Standing six foot four and weighing in at two hundred and thirty seven pounds, he is the Smarks Junior League EUROPEAN CHAMPION… Please welcome… CHRISTIAN BLAAAAACCCCKKKWWWEEEELLLL!”


Another cheer is let out from the fans as Blackwell unhooks the belt from his waist and gives it to the referee as the lights return to normal revealing the two competitors staring at each other. They stand toe to toe in the center of the ring, but the referee soon steps into the separate them, and they both prepare for the match…


(Axis) “Blackwell has held that title for around 30 days and this is his first defense. How would it look if he lost this match? And to a relative newcomer?”


(King) “I don’t think you can see he’s a ‘relative newcomer’ Axis, he’s 42 for gods sake!”


(Axis) “Well, he’s a newcomer to the JL, and I doubt he’s faced an opponent the caliber of Christian Blackwell for quite some time. The opening stages of the match will be interesting to see how each man approaches the other…”


(King) “It’s only a slight weight advantage that Tarakanov has, but from what I’ve seen, he can man handle opponents that are LARGER than him! He packs tremendous power, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see him pummel away early and dig Blackwell an early grave!”


The two men take their stances as the crowd begins to die down, watching on intently as the referee gives the Euro title to a assistant at ringside, and then points to the time keeper…


“Ding, ding, ding!”


(Axis) “And that signals the start of the match!”


With the sounding of the ring bell, the crowd suddenly comes alive, the fans growing louder and louder every second that Christian Blackwell and Viktor Tarakanov circle each other, finding suitable avenues for attack.


(King) “Oh boy, my favourite part of the match…”


(Axis) “It may be tedious to some King, but this time is important for both men to suss out their opponents strengths and weaknesses.


Uncharacteristically, Blackwell attempts to strike first, grabbing hold of Viktor by the shoulders, attempting to grapple. Viktor grunts, brushing the Irishman aside and striking him in the forehead with a straight arm punch, knocking Christian away. The crowd suddenly dies down, as Viktor appears to take control, his fist thundering into Blackwell’s forehead, forcing Blackwell towards the corner.


(King) “This is just like a scene out of Rocky 4.Tarakanov, the rouge Russian who packs a powerful punch completely dominates his opponents.”


(Axis) “Let’s just hope Blackwell doesn’t end up like Apollo Creed… He might well do so if he doesn’t change his strategy soon, it’s insane to expect to tie Tarakanov up so easily, it just leaves you open to attack.”


The Shoot Fighting Russian displays his skill, decimating Blackwell with right hands, knocking the Irishman silly only a minute into this match! Rearing back with punches again and again, the crowd’s hopes sink as Viktor mixes up his offence, grabbing Blackwell by the hair and hitting several high knee lifts!


(King) “I just can’t see anyone beating this man Axis. No matter how many years of experience Blackwell holds under his belt, Tarakanov holds more. There’s no way you can hold out against superior strength and experience.”


(Axis) “True King, Blackwell has not faced anyone to date with more experience than him, but tonight that changes. One thing that will tip the scales in his favour is his intelligence and ring presence. It seems everyone has lost all confidence in Blackwell after losing in just one match!”


(King) “Oh ho, you underestimate this Russian devil Axis! He has the power AND also the intelligence to prevail, and with those you just cannot lose!”


(Axis) Intelligence and power is all you need to win King? Then how did you ever win having neither of those qualities?”


(King) “Oh ha - ha Axis, very funny, but I had that all important third quality that few have… sex appeal.”


The clock runs down in the corner of the screen, showing plenty of time left, plenty of time for Viktor to beat Christian into submission, literally. The Russian whips the Irishman right across the ring into the opposite corner. Following him in, Viktor charges after his opponent, but to his utter surprise Blackwell stops himself just before hitting the turnbuckles, placing his hands on the top rope and jumping over Tarakanov!


(Axis) “Great agility shown by Blackwell. Now, Want to explain how sex appeal helped you win matches, King?”


(King) “… No, no I don’t.”


Blackwell purses his lips, trying to release his frustration out on Viktor, but a forearm shot to the back of the head is blocked by Tarakanov’s arm, who then counters by sweeping Blackwell’s feet out form under him!


(Axis) “Viktor definitely does not have the sex appeal, looking at that body hair is making my shudder… But I have to agree with you King, he is displaying intelligence with that quick counter, not allowing Blackwell to work his way into this match.”


Blackwell is back on his feet quickly but Tarakanov follows up with a back elbow to Christian’s jaw! While Blackwell nurses a headache already, Viktor again follows up, charging towards Blackwell and kneeing him in the gut! With the Irishman doubled over, feeling like his appendix had just burst, Viktor grabs Blackwell around the waist in a gut wrench, lifting Blackwell and slamming him on his back with a Suplex! Throwing his weight on top of Blackwell, Tarakanov pins!


O N E – But Blackwell pushes out, not about to succumb to Viktor’s power. The Russian suddenly throws himself on top of Christian again, one hand pulling on his wavy hair and the other putting a hole in his head with some more devastating punches! The fans voice their objections as Tarakanov mercilessly pounds on Blackwell, going faster and harder until the referee instructs him to get off at once. The Russian pushes the ref away and remarks something in Russian, spiting on the canvas beside the ref. Viktor flashes a sick smile as he lifts Blackwell to his feet, holding him in place with one hand, hitting some European uppercuts to the Irishman.


(Axis) “It’s a safe bet that Viktor would win a fist fight between the two… But Blackwell would absolutely own in a drinking contest.”


(King) “That’s little consolation for Blackwell, as we’re in the ring right now, not at the local pub. Anyway, with the way Viktor is hitting tonight, it doesn’t look as if Blackwell will be drinking for weeks!”


Viktor mixes his offence up again, hitting a right hand followed by a Euro uppercut. Blackwell finally manages to duck one of Tarakanov’s punches, grabbing him from behind in a waist lock. Tarakanov again finds an easy counter, running backwards and thumping Blackwell into the turnbuckles! The Irishman, dazed and confused, stumbles out from the turnbuckles as Viktor lies in wait, lowering his head and lifting Blackwell off the canvas, attempting a Spinebuster! Christian manages to counter, flipping over the top of Tarakanov, grabbing him by the waist and attempting to pull him down with a roll up pin! The Russian keeps his feet, letting out a laugh as he falls onto his knees, trying to drill Blackwell in the forehead, but the Irishman escapes! Christian slides out from under Viktor, finding his feet, but so does Tarakanov, who tries to connect with a fast punch to the heart, but Blackwell brushes it aside with a forearm, finally hitting back at Viktor…




… With a knife-edge chop! Blackwell throws all his power behind his shots, rifling them off with the sound of gunshots.




The sound suddenly electrifies the crowd as they begin to cheer. “WHOO!” They shout after every blow is struck, trying to spark some life into Blackwell.




(Axis) “Finally! Blackwell shows some signs of resistance! He hits these chops like no other, and he isn’t holding back on Tarakanov one bit!”


Blackwell grabs Viktor by the hand, attempting to whip him into the ropes, but the big Russian reverses it easily. As Christian returns, Viktor grabs him and lifts him into the air, falling forward and driving him into the canvas with a Spinebuster! “Ooh…” The fans sigh after the painful blow from Tarakanov, as the Russian follows up with a pin, hooking Blackwell by the leg.


(King) “Viktor basically no sold those Knife-edge chops!” King bellows in reply, very pleased. “Isn’t it about time Blackwell stage some sort of come back, Axis?”


(Axis) “Don’t get too cocky King… wait, what am I saying? Ugh, just you wait King, Blackwell cannot lose this match, and he’ll fight tooth and nail to defeat Tarakanov.”


(King) “Poor Axis, never able to accept defeat. Trust me man, I can see defeat coming and Tarakanov will soon have that European title!”


(Axis) “Can you see defeat coming because you always-“


(King) “Quiet you!”


The referee slides over and slams his hand on the canvas.










T W – But Blackwell again kicks out, giving the fans something to cheer about, but Viktor soon silences them, locking his arm around Christian’s, lifting him up, locking on a abdominal stretch!


(Axis) “Sound strategy I must admit, going right to the abdominal submission after a heavy hit to that same region.”


Tarakanov pulls back on Blackwell, nearly yanking his arm out of his socket whilst digging his knee into his back, stretching out his abdominal region. The Irishman cries out, feeling immense pain or feeling uncomfortable brushing up against Viktor’s chest hair. Either way, it’s enough for Blackwell to desperately reach out, trying to grab a hold of the middle rope, but Tarakanov applies more pressure at the right moment, preventing Christian from moving. Gritting his teeth and clawing his nails into the canvas, Christian Blackwell inches closer and closer towards the ropes, just about there, enduring pain long enough to lunge across…


… And grab onto the rope! The crowd let out a rousing cheer as the referee tells Tarakanov to let go, but he won’t! The Russian keeps the move applied as the referee counts, “One, two, three, four! Get off of him, Commie!” The bold ref tries to pull Viktor off, but the Russian lets go before he has the chance, looking into the referee’s eyes and giving him a cold, hard stare.


(King) You never put your hands on Viktor Tarakanov, especially a lowly referee! That is a one way ticket to Hurtsville, and I don’t mean the Hurtsville in Virginia either!”


(Axis) “… There’s an actual Hurtsville?”


Viktor pushes the referee aside, grabbing Blackwell by the head and lifting him to his feet. The big Russian hits a few big kicks to Christian’s stomach, doubling him over, allowing him to throw Blackwell’s shoulder over his head and grab him by the waist, lifting him into the air with a vertical Suplex! Tarakanov shows great power as he keeps the Irishman held aloft, held vertically in the air for around 10 seconds before falling backwards slamming Blackwell! Viktor is confident enough to keep hold of Blackwell and climb back onto his feet, lifting Christian up for a second time! His show of power fails him this time though, as he begins to lose grasp of Blackwell who tries to squirm away! The Irishman manages to escape from Viktor’s grasp, falling behind the Russian while grabbing him around the neck!


(Axis) “Blackwell manages to counter! And lucky for him too, who knows what Tarakanov had planned…”


Christian keeps hold of Viktor, a reverse face lock applied while Tarakanov tries to get away, but before he can, Blackwell falls forward, hitting a Diving Reverse DDT on Viktor!


(King) “Finally Blackwell scores a move! Very smart of him too, sticking to a high impact move, but that was easy to hit.”


Blackwell reaches forward, grabbing Tarakanov by the arm while staying in the same position, draped over his chest.









T – Tarakanov kicks out, but as soon as he does, Blackwell climbs onto one knee, pulling back on Tarakanov’s neck with a Dragon Sleeper!


(Axis) “He follows up one move with another almost instantly! A great tactic to use against the red menace to keep him grounded and to stay in control.”


(King) “A Diving Reverse DDT, and a Dragon Sleeper, I’m starting to see Blackwell’s strategy, and it’s a smart one…”


The fans pop loudly for Christian as he lifts Tarakanov up further, creating more torque and more pressure on the neck. Viktor fights through the pain, not making a sound except for his heavy breathing, staying in control as he digs his ankles into the mat and pulls himself closer and closer towards the ropes!


(Axis) “He just refuses to let go! Christian knows the longer he keeps this hold applied, the more he’ll slow and weaken Viktor.”


(King) “Nothing like stating the obvious, eh Axis?”


Blackwell drives his knee into Tarakanov’s spine, as the Russian had done to him, but it’s still not enough to stop to the big Russian from pulling himself closer, just a whisker away from the ropes, lifting his foot, reaching out…


(King) “C’mon Tarakanov, just a little more…”


… And it falls on the bottom rope! Blackwell, obviously frustrated, curses, then quickly apologizes to the referee and Viktor, who just look back at him in confusion. Christian climbs back onto his feet, disheartened to see Tarakanov get right back to his feet too, and ready to fight once again. The Irishman apologizes to the referee again before rearing back and…




… Hitting Tarakanov across the throat with a Knife-edge chop!




(King) “He can’t do that! Stop him ref!”


The referee once again steps in physically, grabbing Blackwell’s arm and telling him to stop!


(Axis) “Those chops made serious impact across Tarakanov’s neck, and although it’s an illegal move, it’s a damn effective one!”


Christian turns to the referee, eyes wide, staring at the referee, but he finally nods and complies. Taking his eyes off Tarakanov for just a split second allows the Red Rage to hit back, taking Blackwell down with a lariat as he turns around!


(King) “A simple Lariat does more than any suplex could for the Russian! He has so much power in those arms of his, no wonder he can KO opponents with a single punch….”


(Axis) “Somehow I don’t see that happening tonight King, going down to a single punch would be humiliating for Blackwell, and he doesn’t need to be humiliated any more.”


Blackwell hits the canvas, but in an instant is whirling back to his feet, only to be met with right hands from Tarakanov! Once again, Viktor’s punches have a devastating effect as he sends Blackwell reeling, unable to counteract the power. Tarakanov violently whips Blackwell into the ropes, waiting for the Irishman to return, lowering his head in preparation…


(Axis) “Maybe a bad move from Tarakanov, if Blackwell can spot him in time… No! The Russian picks him up!”


The Champion is flung into the air, but lands on his feet!


Able to compose himself quickly, Blackwell hops a couple of steps, sending a Superkick right for Tarakanov’s jaw! The big Russian doesn’t even try to duck as he simply puts his hands up and catches Christian’s foot! Blackwell is left hoping on one foot while Tarakanov just grins, leaving the Irishman in this predicament, but Blackwell suddenly counters, flipping himself around and kicking Viktor upside the head!


(King) “Ack! Where is Blackwell getting this agility? He’s slowed down considerably in his past few matches, but now he’s running rings around Tarakanov with ease!”


Despite the hard hit he took, Tarakanov is on his feet once again, only to be grabbed around the waist by Christian. Viktor charges forward, hitting the ropes and grabbing hold as Blackwell is flung backwards! The European Champ rolls backward and onto his feet again, but Viktor runs back towards him, trying for another decapitating lariat. Blackwell ducks, extending one hand and hooking it around Tarakanov’s stomach, and then linking it with the opposite arm, lifting the Russian into the air and…


(Axis) “… Blackwell hits a German Suplex! I swear, this man can hit those anytime he wants to… and now he’s holding on with the bridge!”



O N E!








T W O! – But the Russian pushes himself away, breaking the count. Blackwell again tries to follow up with a submission maneuver, trying to scissor his legs around Tarakanov’s head, but the Russian won’t allow this, grabbing the Irishman by the ankles and flipping himself around, turning Blackwell onto his stomach. Tarakanov then follows up with a knee drop on Blackwell’s midsection!


The Red Rage is certainly enraged as he grows with intensity, yelling out something in Russian with each knee drop he hits! Christian finally rolls away, clutching at his ribs, but Tarakanov won’t let he rest for even a second, lifting the champ onto his feet and throwing him into a corner, slamming his fist into Blackwell’s ribs with left and right jabs!


(Axis) “You can tell the fans are really starting to worry King…”


(King) “And so they should! Tarakanov is directing all his attack towards Blackwell’s midsection, an area that Blackwell has had targeted since he first joined the league.”


(Axis) “Too right King, a prime example is the match Blackwell had versus Dace Night, where Dace worked on Blackwell’s ribs all match, and when it came time to lock on the Narcosynthesis, he nearly faulted at the final hurdle!”


Blackwell is knocked back between the turnbuckles as every shot hits, Tarakanov’s fists crushing his opponents vital organs. The Russian takes a few steps back, getting a running start, leaping at Blackwell, but only to be met with a kick to the face from the Irishman! The champ heaves heavily, winded after Tarakanov’s blows, but he soldiers on. He pulls himself onto the top rope as Tarakanov stumbles around in a circle, turning back to his opponent, only to see him fly from the top rope and hit him across the neck, taking him down with a flying clothesline!


(Axis) “Ooh! Tarakanov’s head snapped back violently there. Blackwell is not known for his aerial ability, but when he does go up top, he hits hard!”


(King) “The only thing that saved Blackwell in that match was directing his attack to Dace’s neck, and it looks like he’s doing it here also.”


Both men tumble to the mat, but Blackwell manages to roll back to his feet easily. Blackwell slides over to his opponent and props himself on one knee, wrapping his python’s around Tarakanov’s neck. The Russian tries to counter, trying to swat Blackwell away with elbows to the side of the head, but each time he tries, Christian just moves out of the way! Blackwell swiftly gets onto his feet and flips over the top of the Russian, snapping his neck back!


(Axis) “That is definitely his strategy King, a simple but painful move and Tarakanov looks to be in trouble for the first time in this match!”


While Viktor writhes in pain, cringing while holding his neck, Blackwell sneaks in with a pin!



O N E!








T W O! But Christian only gets another two count as Tarakanov rolls away, using the ropes to help him to his feet. The Red Rage backs himself into a corner, trying to get his bearings back, but Blackwell attacks with ferocity, charging towards the Russian, flipping in the air with a Rolling Wheel Kick!


(King) “He missed! Blackwell tried this move against Dace, and it failed there as well. Blackwell hasn’t used this sort of offence for a while, so it’s sure to fail him at times.”


Blackwell hits the turnbuckles, his ribs taking the full force of the blow, much to Tarakanov’s delight. The Red Rage lifts the champion to his feet, cursing him for his neck. The big Russian places his hands underneath Blackwell, heaving him up above his head in a military press!


(King) “Blackwell only gives away around 50 pounds to Tarakanov, but the Russian still has the power to lift him above his head like that!”


(Axis) “Uh oh, the only way from here is…”


Tarakanov smirks as he tosses Blackwell off from his shoulders, driving him straight onto his extended knee!


(Axis) “Down…”


“Ooh!” The fans cry, fearing for the European Champion as he clutches his ribs, rolling out of the ring, away from the Red Rage. No one can escape the Red Rage however as Tarakanov follows, rolling out of the ring. Viktor connects with some right hands, battering Blackwell towards the guardrail.


“ONE!” The referee bellows inside of the ring, keeping an eye on the action out side of the ring as Tarakanov grabs Blackwell around the waist and lifts him up, throwing him down on the top of the guardrail!


(Axis) “That’s unforgiving steel King, and Tarakanov just threw Blackwell against it! You have to wonder if Blackwell had fully recovered from his grueling match up against Dace Night…”


(King) “He can’t have King, he had such a poor showing on Crimson, and that’s just not like him at all. Has he ever heard of a week off to, you know… rest his injuries?”


(Axis) “That’s just shows how determined he is King, not willing to give up for anything, but I fear that his career has hit a real roadblock in Viktor Tarakanov, who is punishing him viciously as he targets those injured ribs.”


“TWO!” The fans are absolutely livid as they appeal to the referee to count faster. Tarakanov takes his time, lifting Blackwell onto his shoulder again, this time he turns around and runs him straight into the ring apron!


“THREE!” Blackwell tries to get away as he coughs and splutters, spitting out saliva, but this only spurs Tarakanov on as he lifts him up into the fallaway slam position, but instead of throwing Blackwell over his head, he charges forward, crushing the Irishman’s midsection against the steel ring post!


(Axis) “I can’t believe the referee can let this sort of thing go on! Using the steel is just like using a weapon, and Tarakanov is throwing a whole arsenal at Christian Blackwell!”


(King) “Terrible isn’t Axis? But oh well, it’s the way things have always been done, and Tarakanov is taking advantage of it to literally rip Blackwell in two!”


(Axis) “I don’t know what you see in Viktor King, he is a heartless monster!”


(King) “Hey, leave the commie alone, he does his job and gets it done anyway he can, something Blackwell needs to learn and give up this whole ‘honour’ business…”


“FOUR!” The crowd boos wildly, taunting the Red Rage as he backs Blackwell against the guardrail and pounds away some more. One guy makes a crack about Russia and is grabbed by the collar and nearly pulled over the rail!


“FIVE!” The referee’s count brings Tarakanov back down to earth as he lets go of the fan and turns back to Blackwell, grabbing him by the hand attempting an Irish whip, but by simple association with Ireland Blackwell manages to reverse it, sending Tarakanov into the steel steps head first!


(Axis) “Ouch! Both men have compounded each other’s injuries even more on the outside, as the steel is coming in handy for both of them…”


“SIX!” As Tarakanov crumples onto the concrete, Blackwell grabs him by the hair and lifts him to his feet, reaching under the Russian and lifting him up onto his shoulder. As Blackwell charges forward, the fans start to make more noise, crying “OOH!” at the moment Blackwell tosses the Russian like a lawn dart into the steel post!


“SEVEN!” The Irishman slides back into the ring, getting a desperately needed rest to take stock of the situation, holding his ribs and coughing. Tarakanov lies on the shag carpet outside the ring, rubbing his head and smiling, but he soon loses that smile as he tries to climb back to his feet.


(Axis) “No wonder these guys stuck to using the steel, landing on that shag carpet would do little!”


(King) “Not even shag carpet can protect someone from the concrete below it, Axis.”


(Axis) “True Kingo. You know, something tells me these two guys won’t exactly appreciate the setting they are in tonight, and I must congratulate the SJL crew on making such a colourful set.”


(King) “Yeah, Brings me back to my college days Axis… protest rallies, orgies, all night partying, the drugs, those were the days…”


(Axis) “King, you were like 5 years old in the seventies, you’re telling me you went to protest rallies and orgies as a 5 year old?”


(King) “… Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”


“EIGHT!” Blackwell climbs back to his feet, only to find Tarakanov sliding into the ring. As the Russian gets to his feet as well, the Irishman meets with forearms to the neck! Even Tarakanov cannot counter the blows as Blackwell grabs him and whips him across the ring. Christian attempts a dropkick just a split second too early and Tarakanov manages to stop himself by grabbing onto the top rope!


(Axis) “That’s usually Blackwell’s trick, but it’s working like a charm for Viktor!”


(King) “Speaking of charm, I better ask Blackwell about his lucky charms…“


(Axis) “Don’t you dare!”


Blackwell has no way to protect himself as he falls face first onto the mat after the failed dropkick! Viktor takes advantage quickly, running across the ring and diving across, hitting Blackwell with an elbow drop across the ribs! Tarakanov hits another, and another, and another! Viktor finally picks the Irishman up off the mat, sweeping him off his feet and lifting him up, bringing him down across his knee with a Backbreaker!


(King) “One man has to crumble under the pressure soon Axis, and whoever gets the first fall has a clear advantage in this match!”


(Axis) “Sweet, sweet Backbreaker from Tarakanov, and he hooks Blackwell by the leg! He may have him here!”



O N E!








T W O!













H – But Blackwell rolls a shoulder from the mat! The crowd cheers Blackwell’s resilience and applauds as Tarakanov gets up, sneering as he listens to the fans cheer for Blackwell. Viktor shows no respect for the Champion, lifting him up by the hair, mouthing something in Russian and then spitting in his face!


(Axis) “How insulting! Blackwell, of all people, doesn’t deserve that kind of disrespect!”


(King) “No wonder Blackwell has been feeling depressed, even I admit that was cold, but what’s worse is that I hear some people in the crowd laughing!”


(Axis) “They like too see violence, drama, and anything that has some sort of shock value. It’s sad but true, and Blackwell is not going to take this treatment lying down…”


But Tarakanov has other ideas as he whips Blackwell into the ropes, lowering his head and waiting for him to return. Blackwell comes back toward Tarakanov, but leapfrogs over the top of him! Blackwell bounces off of the ropes and slides between Viktor’s legs as he reaches out to grab him, leaping to his feet behind the Russian and kicking him in the stomach as he spins around! Blackwell Irish whips Tarakanov, backing into the ropes himself as both men build up speed…


(Axis) “This is going to end badly for Tarakanov, I just know it! No matter what Blackwell has planned, the collision will be shattering!”


But as the Russian and the Champion near each other, Tarakanov leaps at Blackwell, catching him as he jumps across the ring at him, catching him with a GORE – GORE - GORE!


(King) “OH MAN! Such impact in that hit! Blackwell shouldn’t have tried anything big so soon, but he did, and he paid for it big time!”


(Axis) “He went flying across the ring after Tarakanov hit him! That has to be it, Tarakanov has gone one up in this match…”


The Red Rage rolls around the ring, his neck taking the recoil from that move as he threw all his weight behind the hit, and has to hold it as pain surges through. He tries to put it out of his mind as he manages to roll over on top of Blackwell, draping his arm across his chest!



O N E!








T W O!

























R - NO! Blackwell kicks out much to the delight of the fans!


(King) “Damnit! I was sure Viktor finally had Blackwell there but the damn drunkard hung on! No matter, Tarakanov is in control now and it’s just a matter of time…”


Tarakanov stares a hole through the referee, holding up three fingers, but the referee stands his ground and claims it was only two. The Russian grunts as he lifts Blackwell onto his feet, grabbing Blackwell by the head, but looking around at the fans first, watching their reaction as he puts Christian in a standing headscissors!


(Axis) “You may not have to wait long King, Tarakanov is setting up for a Powerbomb!”


(King) “Blackwell has no hope if he can hit his finisher, in his condition, there is no way he could survive multiple Powerbombs!”


The fans climb onto their feet, shaking their heads, watching Viktor lift Blackwell high into the air onto his shoulders for all to see. Tarakanov stumbles a little, trying to throw Blackwell from his shoulders, but the Irishman won’t budge!


(Axis) “There’s no way he could survive, but he sure can counter it!”


Christian hangs on for dear life, trying to wear Tarakanov down, his forearm hitting Viktor in the back of the neck! Tarakanov begins to sway as he is finally forced to let go of Blackwell, allowing the Irishman to roll off Tarakanov’s shoulders, grabbing the Russian around the waist before hitting the mat, rolling him up in a shock pin!


(King) “NO! Damn the luck of the Irish! He might just get a fluke pinfall after Tarakanov couldn’t hit his finisher!”


The referee slides over as fast as he can, slamming his fist on the mat before he even stops moving! The fans chant along, hoping desperately that his will do it!



“O N E!”








“T W O!”






























RRRRNNNOOO!” The fans let out a disappointed sigh, but before they can do anymore, Tarakanov rolls through and back onto his feet, trying to kick Blackwell in the head! The Irishman manages to duck as the Russian spins around after the kick, grabbing him by the ankles and yanking him to the mat! Blackwell jumps over on top of Tarakanov, leaning on top of him and grabbing him by the face, locking his hands tightly, locking on a CROSSFACE!


(Axis) “Amazing! Blackwell nearly scored the pinfall, but to Tarakanov’s credit he recovered superbly, but that still wasn’t enough, and now Blackwell is only injuring that neck further by locking in a Crossface!”


(King) “I can’t believe it! I had my hopes up when Viktor rolled through, but Blackwell just keeps denying him!”


The fans let out an all mighty roar as the camera zooms in on Blackwell, showing his face, eyes closed, crying out with Tarakanov, full of determination. The Russian, two of his arms free, tries to crawl to the ropes, but the pressure building in his neck is just too much and he collapses just inches from the ropes!


(King) “So close! So close to breaking the hold! Tarakanov is enduring so much pain at the moment, and he is DESPERATE to get to the ropes!”


The Russian yells and curses, literally digging his nails into the canvas, clawing closer to the ropes, extending one arm, but a sharp burst of pain rips though him and it drops, lifeless, to the canvas. Just when it seems he’ll tap out, his hand hovering just centimeters from the mat, Tarakanov makes one final desperate lunge…


… And his fingers latch onto the bottom rope! “OOOH!” The fans cry out in disappointment as Blackwell is forced to break the hold.


(King) “Somehow, somehow he did it! This man amazes me the more I see him, and even Christian Blackwell has to be frustrated after that!”


(Axis) “Anyone would be frustrated King, I know I am…”


(King) “It seems they can endure the pain, but there will be a point where they just give away in a single moment have to succumb to it, but with these two, who knows when that will be.”


Tarakanov, despite his neck giving him the worst pain imaginable, knows he has to get to his feet. Blackwell slams his fist on the mat, groaning as he climbs onto two feet, clutching his ribs while the fans cheer him on more and more. Christian gazes through the thousands of fans, watching them cheer for him, feelings of resentment filling his mind. Tarakanov takes advantage of Blackwell’s momentary lapse, wrapping him up from behind with a waist lock. Viktor attempts to lift Blackwell, but the Irishman locks his foot behind Tarakanov’s ankle, blocking it! The Russian tries again, only to get the same result!


A standing switch from Christian has him reverse the waist lock, but he can’t lift his opponent either! Tarakanov swats Blackwell away like a fly, hitting him in the side of the head with some elbows, knocking him away. As Tarakanov charges, Blackwell steps aside and lifts him with a hip toss, but Tarakanov lands back on his feet. With arms still locked, Viktor punches Blackwell in the face again and again, dazing the Irishman long enough to lift him up onto his shoulders, pulling on his neck and legs with a TORTURE RACK!


(Axis) “Tarakanov has it, Blackwell has to give up in the Torture Rack! His midsection will be under so much pressure that he’ll- WAIT! Blackwell slipped behind Tarakanov!”


(King) “Damnit! This isn’t Crow, the Irish aren’t supposed to be greasy, it’s Italians! I don’t know how they find a way to counter, but they do every single time!”


Barely escaping from Tarakanov’s grasp, Blackwell has to act quickly. With his arm still locked behind Viktor’s, Christian grabs the Russian’s opposite arm, applying a double Chickenwing!


(King) “WHAT!? It can’t be! Don’t tell me it’s so! He’s going for the CATTLE MUTILATION!”


(Axis) “Yes! Blackwell pushes himself into Tarakanov, but the Red Rage is keeping his feet! This is unbelievable stamina from this man!”


But Blackwell soon wears him down, slamming his face into the mat! Tarakanov squirms, his legs moving every which way and his feet digging in, but Blackwell growls in an uncharacteristic moment of rage, lifting Tarakanov up by the arms and slamming his face against the mat again and again!


(King) “Damnit, he can’t do that! The referee can’t let that happen!”


But before the referee can interject, Blackwell is finally able to flip himself over in a bridge, locking on the NARCOSYNTHESIS! The fans are absolutely ecstatic as the cheers fill the arena, the disco ball shining down on the ring as two men cry out in pain…


(Axis) “ He has it locked on! With the amount of punishment Viktor has taken to his neck, he has to give up!”


(King) “That may be Axis, but Blackwell faces the same dilemma he did against Dace Night. Not only has Tarakanov been weakened, but so has he! How long can HE hold out in this move with the strain that is being put on his midsection!?”


(Axis) “It’s impossible to tell what’s going on over the noise from the crowd and the screams from the two men in the ring, but one of them has to utter the words!”


Blackwell grits his teeth, his eyes glued shut as he keeps himself held in the bridged position, literally begging for Tarakanov to give up. The Russian shakes his head as the referee asks the all important question, but with his face beet red and pain flowing down his spine, Tarakanov cries out, “NO! NO! NO!”


But everything changes in an instant as he stops moving, stops crying out…


Simply saying…



“I give up…”



(Axis) “Blackwell has won the fall, making Viktor Tarakanov give up in the Narcosynthesis!”


(Funyon) “The winner of the fall by submission at the time of 24 minutes and 35 seconds… CHRISTIAN BLACKWELL!”


(King) “The score is now 1 – 0! And what’s worse… Blackwell STILL has the hold applied!”


An all mighty cheer rises from the fans, Blackwell still trying to force another submission… But the strain is too much to bear…



…And he lets go of Viktor!


“(King) “I knew it Axis! This same thing would have happened in this match against Dace Night, but that was only one fall! Tarakanov still has a chance because Blackwell couldn’t keep the train and score another fall!”


(Axis) “Un-bloody-believable King! We’re into the late stages of this match now, and it would have been impossible for Tarakanov to come back from two falls down! The Russian does still have a chance! Now it’s just a matter of who can get to their feet first…”


The atmosphere is electric as both men try to basically no sell their injuries and get to their feet, but to no avail. The fans wait anxiously for the first signs of movement, but there’s nothing….


(Axis) “Remember, there is no break between falls, only if the match has to go into overtime… That is Tarakanov’s only chance now.”


(King) “Blackwell may have been able to score the fall, but he paid the price for it, which gives Tarakanov just one… more… chance…”


Everybody in the arena is shocked as they seen Viktor Tarakanov throw and arm into the air and onto the rope, pulling himself towards it. The fans can’t believe what they are seeing as the valiant Russian doesn’t even clutch his neck. He just tries to lift himself back up, glancing behind to see Christian Blackwell, face down on the mat, not moving a muscle…


(Axis) “Phenomenal King, absolutely phenomenal. Blackwell’s lingering injury is taking it’s toll and Tarakanov is now the one in charge, but he better do something quickly, the clock is down to 5 more minutes…”


The Red Rage climbs onto one knee, his chest pounding, but he uses the ropes to get back to his feet, the fans booing the Russian as he slowly but surely walks over to Blackwell, who is only now on all fours, unable to lift himself up. Lucky for him though, the big Russian is there to help him up. As the clock steadily runs down, reaching 26 minutes and 41 seconds, Tarakanov attempts to whip Blackwell across the ring, but suddenly turns it into a shirt arm whip, pulling Blackwell into a short arm knee lift! Tarakanov grabs Blackwell’s head and shoves him between his legs!


(King) “I will give away my first born child if Blackwell can counter this move as well. I will be heartbroken if he does, because Tarakanov is nearly there, time is running down, but he has Christian Blackwell right where he wants him.”


…3 minutes to go…


Tarakanov raps his arms around Blackwell’s waist, making sure to link them. He prepares himself, breathing heavily, closing his eyes and finally, he attempts to lift Blackwell into the air… But he only gets the Irishman halfway before Blackwell lands back on his feet!


(King) “NO! This can’t happen!”


(Axis) “I suspect Christian is just stalling for time now, he knows the clock in running down, he just has to hold on a little longer…”


Tarakanov shakes his head, lifting his arm and THUMPING it across Blackwell’s back!






























…1 minute to go…



The Russian cries out one more time before putting his all into lifting Blackwell up onto his shoulders, the crowd gasping as Blackwell hangs there for a second…


Then comes crashing down, Tarakanov nailing him with a Powerbomb!


(Axis) “Tarakanov finally hit the Powerbomb! This is just amazing strength from the Red Rage, and he’s lifting Blackwell up AGAIN!”


As the crowd cry, “NO!” Blackwell is hoisted onto Viktor’s shoulders once more. The Irishman has no life and can’t counter, a helpless human being as the raging Russian throws him off his shoulders again, keeping hold of him as he plunges down…








… Slammed on the canvas with a second Powerbomb! Tarakanov is exhausted, but he manages to keep hold of Blackwell as the referee rushes across, slamming his fist on the mat, as the fans chant along, hoping for a something…


…10 seconds…



“O N E!”








“T W O!”










































Tarakanov scores the second fall and the fans are… so tremendously pissed off! Viktor falls backward, falling flat on his back, lying side by side with Blackwell, only a little energy left in them both. The crowd cries out in an uproar as they hear…





(King) “HE GOT HIM! RIGHT ON THE BUZZER! Tarakanov hits the devastating double Powerbombs and keeps Blackwell down for the one… two… THREE with seven seconds to go!”


(Axis) “Blackwell has done more harm than good for himself! He may have scored one fall, but that only allowed Tarakanov to easily score the second pinfall, and now we are deadlocked once again!”


Funyon gets on the mic, barely able to make himself heard over the noise from the fans.


(Funyon) “The winner of the second fall by pinfall at the time of 29 minutes and 53 seconds… VIKTOR TARAKANOV!”


(King) “It was a gamble he had to take Axis, and he nearly lasted until the full 30 minutes were up, but Tarakanov, who has impressed me and I’m sure everyone here with his power, but not only that, his determination.”


(Axis) “Of course, not only is the coveted European title on the line, but a very nice reward as well two things that he strives for.”


The crowd boos heavily as the two warriors lie still, their chests heaving and sweat pouring down their face. Blackwell is in trouble though, as he turns his head, blood spills out from his mouth, and a faraway look appears in his eyes.


(Funyon) “This match is going into OVERTIME! And now there will be a ONE MINUTE BREAK before the match will restart!”


(King) “How will each man approach the restart Axis? They’ve both beaten the hell out of each other, there’s little fuel left in the has tank… It’s all or nothing from here.”


(Axis) “There’s some tired bodies in that ring, and no love loss between either man. We’ll just have to wait and see…”


(King) “Down to 30 seconds now and somehow, both men are getting back to their feet! When I think they’ve done their dash, they manage to amaze me still!”


The fans begin to applaud as both men, tired and weary, climb to their feet, watching the clock run down under the rainbow of the set.










Both men take their positions, standing as tall as they can, staring at each other as the clock continues to run down, the fans counting along.






The fans, and the commentators bite their fingernails…










“… 1!”




(Axis) “Here we go, into Sudden Death! The first fall will decide the match, and I anticipate this will be quick, but ugly…”


The two weary men forgo the stalling, instead, they both charge at each other! Tarakanov tries to take Blackwell’s head off with a Lariat, but it misses as Christian ducks underneath! Blackwell tries for his favourite and most reliable move, holding Viktor from behind in a waist lock! But Viktor hits Blackwell in the stomach with an elbow, and Blackwell wisely backs away before he can hit another.


(Axis) “Both men will try to protect their injuries as much as they can, because they know that is what each other will be targeting, as it’s the most susceptible part of their bodies…”


(King) “One move will decide this Axis, I doubt they can take anymore punishment. As soon as one of these men get an opening, they have to TAKE IT!”


Viktor hits a straight right hand, but it lacks the ‘punch’ it did early in the contest. Tarakanov whips Blackwell into the ropes, but the Irishman reverses the Irish whip! Tarakanov hits the ropes and bounces back, ducking a slow Superkick!


(Axis) “That would have only hit Viktor in the chest! Blackwell just can’t extend himself at all anymore!”


Tarakanov tries to kick Christian in the gut, but Blackwell catches his foot, pulling Viktor towards him… trying to knock him down with a clothesline! But Tarakanov ducks that as well, grabbing Blackwell’s arm on the way through! The Russian applies a hammerlock before putting his arm underneath Blackwell and lifting him into the air with a back drop suplex!


(King) “Of course Axis, both men’s offensive capabilities have been reducing significantly, and now its back to basics!”


(Axis) “Tarakanov lifts Blackwell into the air… But he counters!”


The Irishman flips out of it, landing on his feet behind Tarakanov! The crowd lets out a cheer as Blackwell finally gets the chance he was looking for, striking the Red Rage in the back of the neck with some stiff forearm shots! Blackwell reaches up and grabs Tarakanov around the neck, bringing him down in a reverse face lock…


(Axis) “It could be his former finisher! The 404!”


(King) “He wouldn’t risk trying this move, would he!? The set up and process is complicated, leaving so many opportunities for Tarakanov to counter!”


Everyone is silenced as Blackwell spins Tarakanov around, locking on a front face lock…


(King) “… A DDT? What is he going for…?”


(Axis) “I have no idea King…”


Blackwell jumps up into the air…



Kicks his legs out…



And falls, almost in slow motion, to the mat, driving Tarakanov face first, spiking his head on the mat, as the crowd is silent… Both men lie face down on the canvas after the move, neither moving at all.


(King) “What that the…!? Could it have been…?”


(Axis) “… A fall forward DDT… but I haven’t seen that since…”


The crowd waits silently, watching both men, the referee confused what to do… until Blackwell begins to stir, reaching out, trying to pull himself onto all fours…


(King) “Does he have the energy to make the cover!?”


Christian Blackwell reaches out, trying to push Tarakanov onto his back, but faulting the first time, falling flat on his face. The crowd begins to chant, “Blackwell! Blackwell! Blackwell! Blackwell!”


The Irishman looks up at them from off the canvas… angry and bitter. Cringing as pain strikes him, he pushes the Russian onto his back, throwing his arm across his chest as the referee’s hand comes down…



“O N E!”








“T W O!”



















































(Axis) “Holy shit! Blackwell wins the match in sudden death with one last desperate roll of the dice that paid off!”


(King) “Unbelievable Axis… Tarakanov dominated this match from the get go, but Blackwell held on somehow. I don’t know how he did it, but he has retained the European Championship!”


Blackwell’s arm falls from Tarakanov’s chest, the hair feeling a little too weird as he rolls out of the ring, the referee night able to raise his hand as the fans cheer the loudest they have all night thus far, as Funyon announces…


“The winner of this match by 2 falls to 1 and STILL… YOUR Smarks Junior League EUROPEAN CHAMPION… CHRISTIAN BLACKWELL!”


Blackwell coughs as he stands back up, blood trickling down his chin and dripping onto the nice wooden ramp way that has been constructed. The fans congratulate him as he walks past them, but he replies by spitting his blood on the ground in front of them, grimacing as he stumbles up the ramp and to the back…


(Axis) “Phew… nothing much else you can say King, but that was a great match, a grueling hard fought contest between two superstars. Tarakanov is the real deal, and he’ll have his shot again soon enough, but for now, Christian Blackwell walks away victorious and with the European title slung over his shoulder.”


(King) “That last move sealed the victory for Blackwell, and what a move it was. You’re right Axis, Tarakanov can hold his head up high and he will become a major player in the SJL soon enough.”


Tarakanov looks up at Blackwell, cursing himself, watching Christian as he kneels at the top of the ramp, coughing out his guts and spluttering blood from over his lip. From behind the curtain, the masked man appears, looking down at his brother…


He nods to him once, reaching out and helping his brother to his feet, helping him backstage…

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Guest realitycheck

Back stage in the First Union Center, a cameraman and Ben Hardy sprints down the corridors in the back of the arena.


Hardy turns to the camera, as the turn a corner.


"We're trying to get a hold of Dace Night, to get some answers from him about everything that's going on."


Turning another corner, Hardy is forced to slam on the breaks, and stops just before smacking into Dace's chest. Looking up slowly, Hardy raises the mike and shallows hard.


"No I want beat you up, you masochistic freak." Dace chuckles dryly. "I'm assuming you're after some answers about everything?"


"Well, um, yes.." Hardy answers nervously.


"One, the team with Danny Williams and Va'aiga, we have stuff in common, we're out to make a name, and stick together, not with anyone else, or for anyone else, just our selves. Just because of my actions, doesn’t mean I’ll be taking out everyone, I still have my standards. Another team that's on it's own side." Dace fires off quickly.




"Two, my actions last time around, I'm under stress, this is a stressful damn job. I need to do something where I can express the way I feel a little more. To be honest, if you play it nice, you have to put up with working this guys you may not really like, and that sucks, not matter how good, nice, cool, whatever they are in the ring. People will live with it. Besides, it worked fine back over in the UK." He continues.


"Right, right," Hardy nods along, not asking questions.


"Three, the fans will like who they like, this is me. Besides, all the more chances to break out the pain." He gives a small, twisted smile with that line.


"And lastly, I have my last SJL match coming up, it's gonna be hardcore, and I'm going to kick that bitch's ass. Before I do that, I have a girlfriend, and I plan to use her to relax before I do that. I find anyone waiting outside my room when I finish, I'll rip their head off." Dace states slowly, with a low growl.


"Errmm, thank you for your time then Dace." Hardy starts to edge away slowly.


Hardy, you fuck off, I go to fuck. Good bye." Dace calls over his shoulder as he turns the corner towards his dressing room.

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Guest realitycheck

Axis: Here it comes, another match that all the great fans of the SJL have been looking forward to ever since it was announced.


Suicide King: We have the power and strength of Va?aiga against the high flying ability and speed of Tryst. And it?s on a ladder. My money HAS to be on Tryst, Axis. I just don?t see how a ladder match stipulation can work in any way except against Va?aiga.


Axis: We shall see as the match develops, King. Now let?s go over to Funyon for the introductions.


Funyon: The following contest is a ladder match for the #1 contendership to the SJL World Heavyweight Championship.


The crowd pops huge at the match announcement.


Funyon: Introducing first, from Rotorua, New Zealand, he stands 6?8 tall and weighs in at 285lbs. He is the Maori Badass? VAAAAAAAAAA?AAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIGGAAAAAAAAA


The arena drops to darkness, as Va'aiga's shadow appears in the entranceway, dressed in his hooded training top with the hood down. Pryo fires off as the first "SLAM!" of "Slam (The Remix)" by Onyx & Biohazard hits, and Gold strobe lights pierce the darkness of the entrance ramp as Va'aiga begins his slow walk to the ring, throwing a few phantom jabs on the way. The Smarktron shows images of Va'aiga shadow boxing and posing, cut with some of his biggest in ring hits - Maori Dropping Thor, the chair shot on Spike Jenkins, Maori Dropping John Duran, staring off with Janus, Maori Dropping Spike Jenkins... Inside the ring Va'aiga rolls down his hood and raises his fists to the crowd, then takes off his top and throws it to a ring assistant before firing off the Maori hand sign. Va?aiga looks up at the disco ball above him and snorts as a sign of disapproval.


Axis: Va?aiga has always disapproved of the more comic aspects of some gimmick matches. It?s no secret that he?d rather have the contract just dangling there rather than stuck in a disco ball.


Suicide King: Ah you like it or you lump it in the SJL.


Funyon: And his opponent, fighting out of Bairnsdale, England. He weighs in at 218lbs and stands 6?1 tall. He is the Sherwood Fable? this is TRYYYYYYST.


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


Suicide King: Tryst?s entrance always amazes me.


Axis: It?s an amazing spectacle.


Suicide King: No it?s amazing he?s never killed anyone. That bow is lethal in the wrong hands. And Tryst has the wrong hands, as far as I?m concerned.


The bell rings and Va?aiga and Tryst circle, before locking up in a collar and elbow tie up, Va?aiga quickly powering Tryst down to his knees. Tryst slips quickly out of the hold and slides between Va?aiga?s legs, barrel rolls up to a vertical base and rushes the far ropes. Va?aiga turns to face Tryst just in time to get flattened with a hyper-fast dropkick! The crowd cheers in amazement as Tryst poses to them, while on the mat Va?aiga shakes off the effects of the move and stands.


Axis: Va?aiga looks a little stunned, King.


Suicide King: I think Va?aiga is shocked that Tryst can remove him form his feet so easily. Tryst may be a lot smaller than the massive Maori, but with speed comes momentum, and with momentum comes impact.


Tryst moves in quickly to take the advantage and fires a leg kick off, unbalancing Va?aiga slightly. Tryst kicks away again, then drops to the mat and drop toe holds Va?aiga down, leaving the massive Maori flat on the mat. Tryst drops an elbow, down into the heart of Va?aiga, quickly gets to his feet and attempts to drop a second, But Va?aiga rolls away and Tryst gets nothing but mat. Va?aiga stands and backs off a half step giving Tryst room to stand, then fires off a combination of quick right hand body shots, followed by grabbing hold of Tryst in a headlock. Va?aiga works the headlock, cranking on Tryst?s neck for a few seconds before Tryst plants his feet and shoots Va?aiga off, sending the Maori Badass flying into the ropes. Tryst rushes an adjacent set of ropes and the pair meet again in the middle of the ring, but Va?aiga has time to shape for a shoulder block and Tryst simply bounces off Va?aiga?s 285lb frame, falling to the canvas.


Axis: Impressive strength shown there by Va?aiga with that shoulder block.


Suicide King: Tryst knows he can?t match power with Va?aiga. He has to make sure he?s the only man rushing around. 285lbs of accelerating Maori is going to knock anyone in the league flying.


Va?aiga drops to a knee and grabs for Tryst?s leg, but Tryst lashes out and kicks Va?aiga, rolling the big Maori backwards. Tryst kips up as Va?aiga gets to his feet, but as he rushes Tryst, the Robin Hood-a-like takes a side step and takes Va?aiga over with a Japanese arm drag. Tryst rolls with the move to return him to a vertical base and moves quickly to the base of Va?aiga, trying to pick a leg. Va?aiga lashes out and kicks Tryst off HIM sending Tryst rolling back. Both men get to their feet and march to the centre of the ring, butting chests as the crowd shows their appreciation with a solid round of applause.


Axis: It?s the classic battle of speed versus power here. And it looks to me like both men are very balanced, especially in the ring sense.


Suicide King: Yeah, Va?aiga?s too meat-headed to work out what?s going on and Tryst is moving too fast to know what HE?S doing half the time. And when are we gonna get to the ladder anyways.


Va?aiga fires off a left jab at Tryst, but the speed of the Sherwood superstar allows him to not only step aside, avoiding the blow but to grab Va?aiga?s arm, instinctively barring it out. Tryst works on Va?aiga?s wrist, and as Va?aiga turns to try to release the pressure of the hold, but Tryst spots this coming and reverses the twist on the arm, turning the move into a standing hammerlock. Tryst relinquishes the hold, looking for a back suplex, but Va?aiga slides a leg between Tryst?s to prevent the move. Tryst moves to a back waistlock, but Va?aiga is FAR too big to hit a German suplex on and after a couple of vain tries Tryst has to relinquish the hold a little, and Va?aiga pounces on the opportunity, hitting a standing switch then flooring Tryst with a MASSIVE German suplex of his own. Tryst even stays bent over for a split second with the impact.


Suicide King: Ouch. That looked VERY painful Axis.


Axis: Va?aiga just folded up Tryst like an accordion.


Suicide King: If he keeps doing that we?ll be dancing the hornpipe instead of disco this evening.

Va?aiga sets in a crouched stance, waiting for Tryst to get up and charges at the Sherwood Fable at full steam, but again Tryst uses his speed and drops down, sending Va?aiga flying shoulder first into the turnbuckle. As Va?aiga staggers backwards away from the turnbuckle, Tryst rushes the ropes, springboarding off the second rope into a modified reverse bulldog on Va?aiga. With Va?aiga flattened on the mat, Tryst uses the opportunity to hit a quick leg drop, before standing quickly and posing for the crowd.


Axis: Tryst looks confident tonight, King.


Suicide King: Normally I?d oppose doing the whole posing thing and missing a chance to go for a pin, but seeing as there?s no pins in this match, and well, it?s a showy PPV anyways, hell go ahead!


Tryst drags Va?aiga up off the mat and whips him to a corner, following in with his trademark backflip kick, earning a moassive cheer from the crowd! Tryst rights himself and whips Va?aiga cross-ring and looks for a second backflip kick, but Va?aiga steps out of the corner as Tryst is flipping, and grabs him by the legs in mid flip! Va?aiga spins round and GIANT SWINGS Tryst! After 4 revolutions Tryst is released and flies out of Va?aiga?s grasp to slump against the ropes.


Axis: Shades of Don Leo Jonathon there


Suicide King: Or Lioness Asuka


Axis: Or Hiroshi Hase


Suicide King: SJL, Informational AND informative.


Va?aiga picks Tryst up by the hair and holds the Sherwood fable in front of him before lashing out with a massive lariat, flooring Tryst again. Va?aiga drops a leg across Tryst?s chest and thinks briefly about covering, before returning to his feet, remembering the stipulations of the match. Va?aiga looks up at the disco ball above him before walking to the outside of the ring, looking for the ladder. In the middle of the ring Tryst returns to his feet, as Va?aiga retrieves the ladder form underneath the ring and lifts it up, ready to slide it inside. Tryst however backs up to the far ropes and rushes at Va?aiga hitting a BEAUTIFUL no hands senton atomico suicida, crashing back first across the ladder and sending Va?aiga to the floor.


Axis: TRAIN WRECK! We have a train wreck here folks. Tryst sacrificing his body as he does nearly every week in the SJL, as a means of attacking Va?aiga. Only in the SJL can you see such amazing high flying action.


Suicide King: I?m amazed Tryst isn?t hospitalized permanently with his style of wrestling. It?s HIGHLY effective but it?s incredibly risky.


Va?aiga lays sprawled out on the disco floor as Tryst gets slowly to his feet. Tryst points to the sky and the crowd lowers it?s holy shit chant as Tryst gets onto the ring apron, then bounces up off the second rope, hitting a picture perfect Asai Moonsault onto the fallen Va?aiga, landing atop the ladder crush then steel onto the fallen Maori. Tryst rolls to one side on the tasteful carpet and clutches his ribs.


Axis: Tryst is hitting the highspots early in this match.


Suicide King: And listen to the crowd, Axis, just listen to them.


The crowd joins together in a MASSIVE chorus of ?Holy Shit!? as Tryst lies there recovering and Va?aiga rests up under the ladder.


Suicide King: Listen to them and their potty mouths.


After a break of about 15 seconds Tryst slowly takes to his feet, as Va?aiga begins to stir. A small trickle of blood is evident from where the sharp edge of the ladder cut into Va?aiga?s forehead. As Tryst is deciding what to do next, Va?aiga dramatically throws the ladder off himself, catching Tryst across the back of his right leg, and Tryst hops a little and turns to face Va?aiga who is up on his knees. Tryst wraps an arm around Va?aiga?s forehead and digs his knuckle into Va?aiga?s cut, making the blood flow a little harder. Little rivulets of blood drop down to the carpeted floor as Tryst works the hold. Va?aiga takes time in the hold to get a firmer footing on the carpeted floor, but eventually gains enough leverage to shoot Tryst off him, sending Tryst careering off, and out of control Tryst trips over the ladder on the floor and smashes chin first into the guardrail.


Axis: That steel is unforgiving


Suicide King: The carpet cleaners will be unforgiving too! Man that blood is NEVER gonna come out.


Va?aiga moves over to Tryst, who reels straight back into the big Maori, still clutching his chin from the impact of the last move. Va?aiga grabs Tryst, setting up for a back suplex on the carpeting, but instead of falling backward to finish the move, as Va?aiga lifts Tryst he walks a few steps forward and drops Tryst over the Guardrail, landing Tryst legs akimbo over the rail. Tryst howls in pain as the male quotient of the audience gives a collective ooh of sympathetic pain. Tryst collapses into the ringside area as the front row fans reach over and pat him on the back and offer their support. Va?aiga goes over to the ringside table, rudely pushes Funyon off his chair, sending the dapper announcer scurrying for safety. Va?aiga grabs Funyon?s chair and poses with it over his head, as a collection of flashbulbs fire taking pictures of the posing Maori.


Axis: Va?aiga is looking to cause some severe damage here, King.


Suicide King: A chair is a deadly weapon in the hands of Va?aiga. The man is an animal, or at least little more than one. And an armed animal is? umm? wait I think I?m stretching this metaphor a little far. Well Va?aiga?s nasty.


Axis: Umm? quite.


Va?aiga wipes some more blood from his forehead with his free hand, and moves over to Tryst, holding the chair aloft. The crowd draws in breath in anticipation as Tryst struggles to his feet, backing off from Va?aiga. Trapped against the guardrail with the Maori Badass advancing on him, Tryst decided the best course of action is to step quickly to a side, ducking and Va?aiga?s massive downward swing of a chair hits nothing but guardrail, rebounding off with a MASSIVE crack of steel on steel! Tryst ducks round Va?aiga?s clumsy follow up blow and outpaces Va?aiga, heading backwards towards the ring. Tryst grabs for the ladder resting at ringside, and as Va?aiga composes himself and charges Tryst, chair waving above his head ready to strike, Tryst interposes the ladder and stabs out with it, punching out with the ladder?s feet into Va?aiga?s stomach, winding the big Maori and causing him to drop the chair.


Suicide King: Well that?s one way to stagger the big man. Push a ladder into his stomach.


Axis: As much as this match has been chaos so far, when these two great wrestlers get to using the ladder as a weapon properly, this is going to TOTALLY break down. It?s violence at it?s finest all over again.


Tryst uses the ladder to back up Va?aiga, pushing him backwards to the guardrail, then with a mighty crack of steel on bone pushing Va?aiga over the rail into the audience. Tryst lays the ladder down on the top of the guardrail and runs up the edges of the steps, then drops off the top of the ladder at running speed into a splash! The crowd busts out YET ANOTHER ?HOLY SHIT!? chant, as Tryst uses the guardrail to get back to his feet. Tryst grabs the ladder and slides it over to where Va?aiga is laying, then slides it down under his chin, balanced on the guardrail. Tryst then runs up the ladder the other way and stands on the other end, waiting for it to overbalance, leaving the ladder to flick Va?aiga?s head backwards, skewing his heck briefly to a painful angle. This draws a round of ooohs.


Suicide King: I got to say Axis, that looked extremely painful.


Axis: Tryst is bringing high levels of innovation in this ladder match already.


Tryst extricates the ladder from its position and drags it slowly to the ring, sliding it under the bottom rope. As Va?aiga slides himself back into the ringside area, Tryst fumbles with the ladder?s set up mechanism, finally getting the ladder erected in the ring?s center just as Va?aiga gets up onto the ring apron. Step by step Tryst climbs slowly up the ladder, looking upwards at the disco ball above him, but Va?aiga summons a desperate burst of speed and charges the ladder, rugby tackling it down! Tryst arcs out of the sky and lands over the top rope, bouncing down into the ring, slumped. The crowd all Holy Shitted out for the while just ooh in shock and awe as Tryst slowly drags himself to his feet, one rope at a time, Va?aiga still lying collapsed in the center of the ring from the effort.


Axis: Both men look spent already, King.


Suicide King: NO I don?t think they?re spent. Because there?s no countouts in this match, they?re taking a wise breather, summoning up a little extra energy for the next sequence of action. It?s a wise move I think.


Tryst gets to his feet and walks over to where Va?aiga is laying, firing off a couple of stomps which fail to connect, but cause Va?aiga to quit resting and roll away and stand. The pair fight over a lockup, and Va?aiga takes control, overpowering Tryst then moving to a side armlock, unfurling Tryst and whipping him against the ropes. Tryst nimbly steps over the ladder as he flies over it, legs askew, but as he rebounds to Va?aiga, Tryst has to leap to avoid being tripped by the ladder and Va?aiga grabs him one armed and corkscrews down into a side slam across the ladder!


Axis: ?.


Suicide King: Ouch!


Axis: That?s what I was thinking.


Va?aiga stomps away at Tryst on the ladder, wiping another backhand of blood droplets off his face. Picking Tryst up one handed, Va?aiga moves to a back waistlock and power Trysts over with a German suplex away from the ladder. Va?aiga picks Tryst up again, and turns 90 degrees, hitting another massive German suplex, parallel to the ladder. The crowd counts ?2? along with the move. Va?aiga picks Tryst up again, and turns through 90 again, finishing the rolling Germans sequence with a truly amazing looking release German suplex, as the crowd counts ?3?, onto the ladder! Tryst howls out in pain, and staggers to his feet spinning slowly, stunned and showing the thick red step marks across his back. Va?aiga stands as well and waits for Tryst to turn to face him, before flattening him with a lariat!


Suicide King: Va?aiga should be setting up the ladder about now.


Axis: I think Va?aiga isn?t gonna show his hand climbing the ladder until he REALLY has to. His speed disadvantage is just going to result in him trying to kill Tryst until he?s SURE to get up the ladder.


Va?aiga wipes his forehead clean again and grabs for the ladder. Va?aiga looks down at the fallen Tryst, and holds the ladder to one side of him, walking forward towards the ropes make sure the ladder has space to fall flat in the ring again. Va?aiga holds the ladder to one side of him and hits the SIDE MAORI LEGSWEEP ON THE LADDER, CRUSHING THE LADDER ONTO TRYST!!!


Axis: Va?aiga is beating on the ladder as he uses it as a weapon.


Suicide King: Poor, poor ladder.


Va?aiga sets up the ladder in the center of the ring and climbs slowly, getting about halfway up before Tryst stirs, and thinking better of it, Va?aiga leaps off with a double Axe Handle to Tryst, but Tryst anticipates the move and DROPKICKS VA?AIGA IN MID AIR! Va?aiga drops to the canvas, and Tryst grabs the ladder and moves it to the corner of the ring. Tryst climbs up to the top turnbuckle rapidly, and looks out into the crowd who, anticipating one of Tryst?s amazing high flying moves hush down, readying themselves for the impact.


Suicide King: What?s Tryst doing? This could be a great risk.


Axis: A lot of what Tryst does is at great risk to himself, but always at a greater risk to his opponent, that?s the way of the high flyer.


Tryst, back first to the ring leaps blind backwards into the ladder, and grabs hold of it, near the top and the impact topples the ladder backwards. Tryst rides the ladder down and it CRASHES INTO VA?AIGA?S STOMACH! Another Holy Shit chant breaks out around the arena. Tryst gets to his feet and runs along the ladder and back, crushing it into Va?aiga with each step!


Axis: Oh? my? god.


Tryst sets up the ladder in ring center again, this time over the prone body of Va?aiga. Va?aiga slowly stands as Tryst climbs up the ladder, looking for the ball at the top of the ladder. Va?aiga grabs a ladder support to haul himself up as Tryst gets to the second from top step. Tryst reaches out to the ball.. slowly.. and grabs hold of it loosely as he finds himself being lifted higher than he expected as Va?aiga lifts the ladder onto his shoulders? and hits an ELECTRIC CHAIR SUPLEX ON THE LADDER! Tryst goes FLYING to the outside, grabbing hold of the ladder to prevent a 25 foot fall, and ends up dangling from the ladder outside the ring! Va?aiga lets go of the ladder, and it overbalances falling outside with Tryst, and Va?aiga lies on his back, recovering a little.


Axis: I see it, but I?m not sure I believe it. Look at the power Va?aiga is showing.. just look at the power.


Va?aiga moves to the ropes to look where Tryst has ended up, then wipes his forehead again and looks down at Tryst and breathes in deeply. Va?aiga moves right next to the ropes and hits an UGLY, UGLY, UGLY slingshot plancha down towards Tryst, simply lifting himself up and falling out of the sky, but TRYST ROLLS ASIDE AND VA?AIGA CRASHES AND BURNS ONTO THE LADDER! Tryst grabs the ladder with the prone Va?aiga on it and slides it further out of the ring, setting it up so it?s lying flat across the ring apron and guardrail. Tryst moves over to Va?aiga and smashes his elbow down into Va?aiga?s chest a few times, making sure the big Maori is too winded to move. Tryst goes to the front row of the audience and grabs a spare seat out of one of the aisles!


Suicide King: I?m confused, what on earth is Tryst doing NOW Axis?


Axis: I?m not sure, King, but I?m damn sure that it?s going to be spectacular, whatever it is!


Tryst smashes the chair across Va?aiga?s stomach then unfolds it, holding the unfolded chair aloft to show it to the crowd. Tryst plants the chair down about 3 foot short of the big Maori and backs off, allowing himself a few feet of run-up in the ring area. Tryst takes his run up, leaps, springs off the chair, half flips forwards in mid air and lands on Va?aiga in a splash! Tryst gets up clutching his stomach. Tryst staggers back towards the chair and points it towards the ring apron and paces back a three step run up. After breathing in and letting the pain subside a little Tryst runs up, springs off the chair, bounces off the ring apron grabbing the top rope and springboards off sideways from the second ropes, looking to stomp down on Va?aiga, but VA?AIGA MOVES and Tryst lands between rungs utterly stuck fast!


Suicide King: That?s the price you pay for being overly flashy, Axis.


Tryst struggles to get free as Va?aiga gets to his feet and walks over towards the chair. Va?aiga wipes another handful of blood clear, and cleans it on the carpet as he reaches down for the chair. Va?aiga folds it up and holds it above his head, smashing it on the ground. Tryst tries desperately to extricate himself from the ladder, and as he gets one leg free Va?aiga BLASTS HIM with a ROYALE-WITH-CHEESE CHAIRSHOT! Tryst slumps sideways to the ground falling out of the ladder. A close up shot of Tryst reveals that now HE is bleeding as well.


Suicide King: And that?s what happens when your opponent ISN?T flashy.


Va?aiga moves over to where Tryst has fallen down, smashing the chair down three or four times into the prone body of the Sherwood fable. Va?aiga decides that he?s caused enough punishment and slides the ladder back into the ring. Va?aiga takes his time setting the ladder up, as Tryst somehow shows incredible fighting spirit and somehow gets to his feet. Va?aiga climbs up to the middle of the ladder and looks over checking on Tryst? who THROWS THE CHAIR AND BOUNCES IT OFF THE SKULL OF VA?AIGA!!!! Va?aiga falls backwards off the ladder, and the ladder itself topples down, resting on the ropes above where Va?aiga is laying. Tryst claws his way onto the ring apron and walks round the ring to where the Ladder is perched, and slingshots himself up to a position sitting on the ladder. Tryst pulls the top rope back, loading himself up like a bow and shoots the whole ladder forward until gravity no longer supports it, and it lands on top of Va?aiga, with Tryst atop the ladder, floating down on it like a makeshift magic carpet!


Suicide King: You know so far in this match I?m not sure who to feel sorrier for. The beaten bloody and battered participants or the beaten, bloody and battered LADDER! You know if ladders could bleed there?d be buckets pouring out of that thing.


Tryst picks the ladder free of Va?aiga and sets it up again in the center of the ring. Tryst again beings the climb up to the disco ball perched high above the ring, taking it carefully one step at a time. Tryst just about claws his way to the top as Va?aiga gets back to HIS feet, and Tryst contemplates reaching up for the ball, but sees Va?aiga moving to shake the ladder, and instead DIVES OFF THE TOP INTO A SPRINGBOARD BACK ELBOW!!!!! Va?aiga takes the move on the back of the head as the extra momentum caused by the rope buckling waaay down and falls forwards dramatically into the ring. Tryst however hits the back of HIS head off the leader on a clumsy landing, with it being impossible to properly judge distance from a dive at that height! Both men lie on the canvas sucking wind.


Axis: After all this action, the two wrestlers here look spent. Both these great young athletes have put both body and soul on the line for a shot at the prestigious SJL world title.


Suicide King: I have to say it?s been an amazingly enjoyable match so far, Axis.


The crowd noise grows as first Va?aiga, then Tryst rise to their feet. Tryst fires off a chop into the chest of Va?aiga, and the big man smiles. Tryst fires a second broadside chop into the blood stained chest of the Maori Badass. Va?aiga?s grin grows and a look of shock crosses Tryst?s face as Va?aiga draws back his massive right arm and fires off a huge lariat, sending Tryst tumbling to the canvas. Va?aiga waits for Tryst to stumble back to his feet again, and then fires off a massive left hand into the bloodied forehead of Tryst. The crowd, anticipating what is to come counts ?ONE!? Va?aiga draws back and fires a second strong left cross punch. The crowd calls ?TWO!? Va?aiga fires a third boxer like left cross onto the reddened face of Tryst. The crowd shouts a unanimous ?THREE!? Finally Va?aiga draws back his meat hook right hand, kisses the fist for luck and blasts Tryst backwards, sending the Sherwood Fable flying with a huge right uppercut.


Va?aiga: MY HOUSE!


Va?aiga grabs Tryst off the floor and, smiling, drapes Tryst over his shoulder and plants him down to the canvas in the middle of the ring, bodyslam style, with an almighty crash. Va?aiga looks at the ladder and then down at Tryst. Va?aiga turns to the ladder and lifts it across the middle. Va?aiga turns to the downed Tryst and calls out.


Va?aiga: MAORI DROP!


Suicide King: Has Va?aiga gone mad? He?s not got Tryst, he?s got the ladder. You don?t think he?s gonna? oh no?


Axis: I think I know what the Maori Badass is planning?


Va?aiga backs up into the ropes, holding the ladder aloft. Va?aiga takes a few steps run up and? RUNNING MAORI DROPS THE LADDER ONTO TRYST! The crowd cheers wildly at the move as Va?aiga sets the ladder up for a climb to the disco ball above. Va?aiga hoists himself onto the bottom rung of the ladder, and the crowd heat builds a notch. Va?aiga grasps upwards to a higher hand hold on the ladder and reaches the second, then third steps. Tryst beings to stir as Va?aiga reaches the fourth and fifth steps of the ladder. Va?aiga reaches up to the sixth, then seventh but Tryst gets enough strength together to kick out the ladder with a VERY low dropkick! Va?aiga collapses in a heap in the ring again.


Axis: I thought that Va?aiga had done enough there, but look at the heart, the inner strength of Tryst! What an amazing performance by the Sherwood Fable!


Tryst uses every last ounce of strength in his body to crawl over to Va?aiga. Tryst moves over to the ladder and slides it slowly out of the way, continuing crawling towards the bleeding, and lying form of Va?aiga. Tryst drapes an arm over the fallen Va?aiga then moves it slowly to the Maori?s face. Tryst gets his knuckle and rubs it firmly into Va?aiga?s cut, increasing the blood flow slightly. Looking down at his handy work, Tryst gives a look showing that he is decidedly unimpressed, and then a smile cracks across his bleeding face. Tryst grabs for his necklace and takes it off, wrapping the leather strap round his fist and then digging the point of his arrowhead into Va?aiga?s forehead. Tryst scrapes away at the skin of Va?aiga as dribbles of blood flow down from Va?aiga?s head makes small streams of blood settle on the mat and coating Va?aiga?s face in a thick layer of crimson.


Axis: OH MY GOD! Va?aiga is truly wearing the crimson mask now. His face is coated, COATED in blood. I think Tryst is digging deep into his psyche and drawing from an animal not regularly seen from the Robin Hood-a-like.


Suicide King: I think this behavior is disgusting, Axis. What ever happened to good clean wrestling?


Axis: Where there are no disqualifications, there are no limits to the depths of depravity to which wrestlers will sink. Their only limits are within themselves.


Tryst equipped with a wild eyed and crazed look in his eyes stands slowly and sets up the ladder again. Tryst, a lot slower than before beings his climb to the top. First up the first and second step, each step looking down at the bleeding form of Va?aiga, slowly stirring beneath him. Third, fourth, fifth steps, and the crowd noise builds, as a huge chant of ?TRYST! TRYST! TRYST!? willing the Sherwood Fable on balanced with chants of ?VAY-ING-UH!? willing the beaten and bloodied Maori superstar to get up. Six, Seventh, Eighth and Va?aiga is up on one knee. Ninth, Tenth, Eleventh? and Va?aiga is up to a vertical base, blood pissing out of his forehead. Twelfth, Thirteenth, Fourteenth? and finally up to the Top Step. Va?aiga is standing, groggy in the ring and Tryst turns to face him.


Axis: Tryst has a dilemma now. Finish off the Maori Badass with a flourish, hoping to climb the ladder, or go for the contract straight away and win the match.


Suicide King: I have the feeling that Tryst is going to go for option A.


Tryst looks down at the bloodied form of Va?aiga, looks out to the crowd and hits a huge ladder top high cross body? AND VA?AIGA CATCHES HIM! Va?aiga holds Tryst across his chest, then slides a hand between Tryst?s legs, and looking out into the crowd, blood dripping down his chest and mixing with all the sweat of the exertion, Va?aiga hits a PUMPHANDLE MAORI DROP! Va?aiga groans and claws his way towards the ladder.




Va?aiga slowly reaches up and drags himself up onto the ladder. Stepping onto the bottom rung of the ladder Va?aiga sways, having to steady himself from falling, blood still dripping from his face. Tryst begins to stir himself as Va?aiga stops moving on the ladder, his energy depleted from the dangerous match he?s been fighting. Va?aiga searches deep into the reserves of his energy to reach the second, third and fourth steps. Tryst meanwhile is clawing his way across the floor, but instead of heading towards the ladder, Tryst appears to be going for the corner!


Axis: I?m not sure what Tryst is doing, but I think this is turning into a kind of footrace.


Suicide King: Given the state of these two athletes, I?m not sure it?s going to break any records, Axis.


Axis: The only thing they need to break is the disco ball above the ring, King.


Va?aiga slowly, almost inexorably continues his progress, clawing desperately up to the fifth, sixth and seventh steps. Tryst, meanwhile has reached a set of ropes and is swaying, but somehow standing. Va?aiga reaches the eight and ninth steps as Tryst reaches the corner. tenth and eleventh steps, such slow progress are countered by Tryst climbing up to the bottom turnbuckle, then the middle. Va?aiga finally makes it to the twelfth, thirteenth and fourteenth steps, but progress is COMPLETELY slowed down by their being no more steps above him to help him claw his way up. Tryst gets to the top rope and slips his pendant back around his neck, looking out at the ladder half the way across the rig from him. The crowd noise is AMAZING, nearly shaking the foundations as Va?aiga turns and faces Tryst and a look of shock crosses his face?


Axis: I didn?t think Va?aiga thought that Tryst could get up from that, King.


Suicide King: Axis, he took his eye of the ball and kept it fixed on the prize instead. And maybe, just maybe that?s going to cost him this match.


Tryst looks up at Va?aiga on the ladder, and Va?aiga stares down at Tryst. The crowd chants are split between Va?aiga and Tryst almost equally, each side trying desperately to out-shout the opposite set of fans. Droplets of blood still falling off the body of Va?aiga mark the mat below the ladder. Tryst subconsciously grabs hold of his pendant, as he mentally prepares himself for his big finish. The pair engage in a brief glance, then with the same thought?. And Tryst Jumps off the top rope looking to hit THE ARROW?S PATH on the ladder, but Va?aiga jumps off the ladder and catches Tryst in mid air, shoulder first with a MASSIVE diving tackle! Tryst lands in an UGLY heap on the canvas as the crowd starts again their by now familiar ?HOLY SHIT!? chant.


Axis: I?m not one to curse, but? HOLY SHIT!


Suicide King: Holy?.. shit?.


Va?aiga grabs Tryst?s pendant from around his neck and begins crawling for the ladder again. Va?aiga reaches the bottom rung, and this time Tryst isn?t moving. Second, third, fourth. Tryst limply rolls over onto his back his chest rising and falling rhythmically showing he?s at least still breathing. Fifth, six, seventh and Tryst manages to crawl at most a foot towards the ladder. Eighth? ninth? tenth. Another foot edged.


Axis: Can Tryst make the ladder, can Tryst stop Va?aiga again?


Suicide King: I don?t know.


Eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth step now. Tryst edges again. Fourteenth? and Va?aiga JUST, JUUUUST manages to haul himself up onto the top step, within clutching distance of the disco ball. Tryst claws and claws away, dripping blood himself onto the mat and feeling droplets of Va?aiga?s blood rain down on him from above. Va?aiga raises a might fist and kisses it for luck and with an almighty crash PUNCHES his way into the disco ball sending a rainbow colored shower of glass down onto the mat below. Va?aiga grabs the contract out from inside the ball, his arm bleeding with a mass of tiny pieces of glass stuck in it. Va?aiga carefully gets down onto the thirteenth step. Tryst begins to rattle the ladder, not really connecting in his brain that the contract has been retrieved. Finally Va?aiga sticks Tryst?s arrowhead into the cut on his head, coating the tip of it in thick blood and uses it as a makeshift pen, signing his name on the contract! The bell rings JUST as Tryst pushes the ladder over? his pendant falling from the sky and landing within easy reach of him. Va?aiga meanwhile grabs hold of the ladder with one arm, holding on for dear life as if falls, clutching the contract in his other hand. Va?aiga holds onto the ladder by the tips of his fingers, his blood soaked form dangling from the ladder as it stops on the ring ropes, and finally Va?aiga drops down and crashes into the ringside area.


Axis: Well it?s over. Va?aiga is the #1 contender from this match.


Suicide King: And someone get a cleanup crew out here.


As stretcher teams come out for BOTH Va?aiga and Tryst, the crowd rise as one to their feet and give both athletes a standing ovation. Va?aiga takes the stretcher to the back, clutching the contract, but Tryst refuses and hobbles out of the arena, virtually moving under his own power. Teams flood the ring to clean up the glass and wipe away some of the blood before the net match.


Axis: What a contest. Blood, violence but most of all - heart. And though Va?aiga is the winner here tonight, I?m sure this is a match that fans will be talking about for a long, long time to come.

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Guest realitycheck

The crowd buzzes, as a transmission airs on the SmarkTron, the image projected being that of a multi-colored backdrop, with Ben Hardy standing in front, alongside contender to the world title Manson.


"(Hardy) I'm standing here with Manson, who triumphed over "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins on Crimson, to procure this match tonight…"


Manson just stares through Riley, strands of his long black hair draped in front of his face.


"(Hardy) But… unfortunately… the match is against Dace "Horrorcore" Night, in an environment Night knows all too well, a No-DQ Falls Count Anywhe--"


"(Manson) Stop. Please. We all know what the match is, and what it entails."


"(Hardy) I was just…"


"(Manson) You talk too much. But what I take issue with, is that word 'unfortunately.' The boys in the back, the fans, they think I'm up the creek. They think that I don't know how to survive in this match, or that I don't know how to survive against Dace. I'll prove them wrong."


"(Hardy) But there's the fact that you haven't really been IN this type of match in the JL."


"(Manson) True. But there's a reason why I'm here, why I came back from injuries that most thought would have put me away by now. Though I haven't wrestled in this type of match often, and especially never against someone like Dace, I still know the pain, I still know the sacrifice."


"(Hardy) Surely no one is doubting that. But this layout just isn't your 'thing' is all I'm saying. You've tried to pride yourself on your wrestling capabilities…"


"(Manson) I'll give you that one. Wrestling is what I do, plain and simple. But somewhere under that, lays a mind that knows how to hurt. But perhaps more important than that, is a mind that knows hate. I've let go, just as Dace has, considering the things he's done to his opponents. I won't hold back, just like I know Dace won't be holding back. He has his trigger and embrace of hate, just as I have mine."


"(Hardy) It wont be for the weak of heart…"


"(Manson) That it won't be. Now get out of here boy, you bother me."


Hardy eyes the ground dejectedly and walks off-camera, as Manson simply smirks, and utters final thoughts..


"(Manson) Remember. It's not just a gimmick. It's a lifestyle.


Cameras switch back to Axis and Suicide King sitting at the announcers desk, atop which sits a lava lamp, as they prepare for the match and various clutter is cleaned from the ring, remnants of the Tryst and Va'aiga Ladder Match.


"(Axis) You heard it from Ben Hardy and Manson, it won't be pretty, and it's up next!"

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Guest realitycheck

The few remaining portions of the crowd settle into their seats, as do fans watching from abroad, as SJL Bringin' the FUNK~! returns from the previous promo segment featuring Manson and his thoughts on his match.


"(Axis) We're only one bout away from our main event, featuring current SJL World Champion Crow. The Fucking Bird will be taking on former champion Sean Atlas, the man who Crow captured the belt from, in a match also involving one Christian Blackwell. And to make things more interesting, Atlas and Crow will be meeting in the ominous contraption known as the Hell in a Cell. You can get a finger caught in there!"


"(King) Uh huh. I miss our swank disco ball."


"(Axis) It's okay, we'll get you a new one."


"(King) It'll never be the same."


"(Axis) But we still have our lava lamp at least. Anyhow, Dace Night versus Manson has a strong bearing on our immediate title picture, as either Dace or Manson will go on to face the Champion, whoever it may be. Yes folks, it's the finals of our mini-tournament to determine the number one contender to the belt!"


"(King) Speaking of, the last of the debris has been cleared from the Tryst and Va'aiga Ladder Match, the broken disco ball included, and Funyon is waiting in the ring. Let's hit it."


Cameras switch to Funyon, looking dapper as usual, with none other than Matthew Kivell in the zebra stripes standing just off-center behind him. The two wait patiently, as the buzz and anticipation of the arena heightens, the capacity crowd fully aware that the match is set to begin.


"(Funyon) Ladies and Gentlemen. Please welcome your referee for this bout, Matthew Kivell!"


Kivell acknowledges the crowd with a polite wave to all corners of the arena, as Funyon continues.


"(Funyon) This match is scheduled for one-fall, and it is a No-DQ Falls Count Anywhere Match to determine the #1 contender to the SJL World Title!"


With those words, the arena's house lights switch to shades of red and purple, as "Fuel For Hatred" by Satyricon hits. Dace then strolls out of the psychedelic, multi-colored PPV set to a mixture of cheers and boos. From there, he heads down the glossed hardwood ramp, accompanied by Funyon's thunderous voice.


"(Funyon) Introducing first, from Birmingham, England, United Kingdom. Standing six foot four, and weighing in at two-hundred and fifty four pounds… He is a former SJL World Champion, here is Dace 'Horrorcore' Night!"


Dace tosses off his black leather trenchcoat, before rolling under the bottom rope and into the ring. Upon standing, he throws up his right arm and flashes devil horns to the camera and crowd.


"(Axis) For Dace, he's looking to win back the title which he feels is rightfully his. He dropped the belt to Sean Atlas on April 10th in a Barbed Wire Deathmatch, who in turn dropped it to Crow, as just mentioned…"


Night stretches out across the ropes, no doubt contemplating in his mind ways to hurt and gravely injury Manson. As he continues his routine, the previous red and purple lights segue into a pitch black. As red strobes then begin flashing rapidly, "Hate Song" by The Haunted officially heralds Manson's arrival. He walks out onto the stage to boos, and makes his way down the ramp.


"(Funyon) And his opponent. From Denver, Colorado, USA. Standing six foot even, and weighing in at two-hundred and ten pounds… Here is MANSON!"


"(Axis) But the road to the championship goes through Manson, who is making his first appearance on a pay per view since last year's Countdown to Genesis. He's on a quest of his own to get the monkey off his back; by winning his first title ever, after being a member of the SJL roster for nearly two years, if you can believe that. Ask him and he'll talk your ear off about how much he wants that belt, and what he's willing to do to get it. And this is perhaps his greatest chance yet."


"(King) We'll see just how much he's willing to sacrifice, as this match is right up Night's alley. Although Manson has been known to have a mean streak, he hasn't participated in these types of matches often, with only a TLC, Cage and variations on the Hardcore Match under his belt. And as he said himself earlier, wrestling is what he does best."


Funyon clears the area and takes his usual place beside the timekeeper, as Manson slides into the ring hesitantly, eyeing Dace the entire way. With both competitors ready, Kivell calls for the bell.


::Ding Ding!::


"(Axis) Once again, we must reiterate that Matt Kivell's only job here is to count the pinfall or verify the submission, as there are no rules here. Dace and Manson have free reign to go anywhere in the arena in order to get the win, and there is nothing to stop either competitor from brutalizing each other."


Night and Manson begin by circling each other around the ring, before going at each other with a full head of steam. Night extends his arm out to his side, and is the first to strike with a Lariat. Manson bumps off the mat and stands quickly, retreating to a corner nearest the announce booth. Dace closes in, but Manson lifts a leg and catches him with a Roundhouse Kick to the gut. Manson turns the tide on Dace and pulls him into the corner by the collar of his black short-sleeved "Protected By Satan" shirt.


"(Axis) Dace with the first hit, but Manson has switched things up here, as he gets Dace in the corner."


Manson thrusts both his hands up and grasps the throat of Dace, choking him relentlessly. Manson releases the choke after a few long seconds, and immediately delivers an insurance forearm to the face. With Dace laid up against the turnbuckle, Manson clutches his right arm and attempts to whip Night diagonally across the ring. Dace keeps a hold on the rope with his left hand however, and pulls Manson back in. With a lift of his leg, Dace leans in and boots Manson in the face, and the crowd cringes as Manson is caught with the Yakuza Kick off the whip reversal.


"(King) Manson had the early advantage, and why he released the choke, I'll never know. Dace has a big strength advantage on Manson, and to try and send him across the ring without hardly weakening him is foolishness."


Manson hits the mat, and isn't as quick to get up this time, as the High Priest of Horrocore slides outside the ring near the ramp, to where he had dropped his jacket. He picks it up and climbs the stairs back into the ring, as Manson gets up to his feet. Back into the same corner where Manson was choking Dace moments ago, Dace closes in on Manson. He wraps the trenchcoat around the neck of Manson, cutting off his air.


"(Axis) Dace upping the stakes in this match, by literally using his trenchcoat as a noose around the neck of Manson!"


"(King) He's had well-publicised neck injuries. It's a definite handicap, especially in a match like this."


Manson tries to get some space between the coat and his neck with his hands, but Dace doesn't let it happen, as he swings his coat around, tossing Manson to the mat with a makeshift Snapmare. Manson continues to struggle out of his predicament, as he pushes himself up off the mat, but Dace swings his coat again, this time the momentum carrying Manson over the top rope, with Dace hanging on!


"(Axis) And now Dace is lynching Manson!"


"(King) Didn't take long for this to take a turn for the worse, as Manson is hung out to dry."


Manson panics, as the fans cheer the brutality. Manson screams as Dace lets go of the jacket, letting Manson fall to the ringside below, onto the carpeted floor. Manson tries desperately to catch his breath as Dace climbs outside, and Kivell follows. Manson, laying on his back, feels the weight of his opponent as Dace goes for a pinfall, but Manson gets the shoulder up early.


"(Axis) Manson, with just enough time to catch his breath on the outside, gets out of the fall.


Dace gets up to a knee, then up to his feet, as he then bends down to lift up Manson off the ground by his long black hair. Manson however swings his left leg upward, and kicks at the stomach of Dace. Dace keels over, as Manson pushes himself away with his upper body, doing his best to get away from Night. Night pursues, but is again met with a stiff kick to the gut. Dace shakes off the effect once more, and chases. Manson, still desperate, goes for the kick out of the defensive position again, but Dace catches the leg with his arm before the strike has a chance to make contact. Pulling Manson up by his leg, Dace signals for the Lariat, but Manson leaps off his free leg, and catches Dace by the back of his head with an Enziguiri, the clap of which rings in the arena.


"(King) A perfect Enziguiri from Manson, turning Night's brain into mush."


Night's eyes gloss over as he falls to the floor onto his stomach, as Manson stomps towards the timekeepers position. He tosses a staff member out of a steel chair as he grabs it for himself. Hurrying back towards Dace, he lifts the chair up over his head and…




Smacks Dace across the back. He raises the chair up once more, and…




Hits Dace once more. Manson throws the chair down, and smiles at the fans lining ringside, before covering the downed Dace. But just as Manson had gotten a shoulder up early moments ago, Dace does the same.


"(Axis) Manson, despite taking the chair to Dace twice, fails to get a count."


"(King) Because Dace is a tough bastard. As his track record has proven."


Manson gets up to his feet, and pulls Dace up with him by his short, spiked hair. Yanking Dace towards the ring apron, he tosses him in, before pulling himself up onto the apron with the help of the second rope. Kivell slides into the ring, as Dace pushes himself up to his feet in the middle of the ring and Manson grasps the top rope with his hands. Pulling on the rope and leaping up onto it, he launches himself towards Dace, with feet extended.


"(Axis) Manson, now going for the Springboard Dropkick!"


And Manson plants his feet in Night's face!


"(Axis) And Manson is on target!"


"(King) Should Manson get into the cover, Dace could be in trouble."


Dace falls back and tumbles head over heels onto his stomach, as Manson lands. Manson now crawls over towards Dace, rolling him onto his back and making the cover, with a hook of the leg. Kivell dives for the count, but again, Dace kicks out before Kivell's hand hits the mat.


"(Axis) Geez. What will it take to get Dace down for at least a one count…"


Manson vents his frustrations by glaring at Kivell, looking for someone to blame, before looking back down at Dace while getting back up to his feet. Dace pushes himself up off the mat slowly, as Manson wipes his hands against his blue jeans and lies in wait. Dace rises, his back to Manson, as Manson applies the behind waistlock. Manson tries to hoist him up for a German Suplex, but Dace fights, eventually throwing a back elbow to the head of Manson. Manson's grip loosens, as Dace throws a second hard elbow, causing him to release the hold and stumble back into the ropes.


"(Axis) Two hard, stiff elbows from Dace causes Manson to break his hold."


"(King) Well, Night can throw 'em just like the best in the business."


Dace closes in on Manson, and rams a knee into his gut, before taking hold of his arm and whipping him across the ring. Manson bounces off the opposite side ropes, as Dace waits on him in the center of the ring. With Manson approaching rapidly, Dace hoists him up and spins him around, before going down to a knee, driving Manson back first across his leg. Manson convulses, turning onto his stomach, as Dace pops up onto his feet, the gears turning in his head as to what to do next.


"(Axis) Dace with a Tilt-a-Whirl Backbreaker, and Manson's spine is just cracked across the knee of Dace!"


Manson comes slowly up to all fours, and then up to a knee, but Dace dives down and wraps his left and right arm around the head and left arm of Manson. Dace locks his hands, effectively trapping Manson in a Front Facelock Choke as the crowd stands.


"(Axis) Crownless! Manson is locked in the Crownless!"


"(King) Back to the worms for Manson now…"


Despite being muffled by the arm of Dace, Manson's tortured screams are still very loud and audible, as Kivell checks in on him.


"(Axis) Manson, screaming murder, as Dace rips the life out of him."


Manson continues his struggles, but makes things worse for himself, as with every movement, the hold gets locked in tighter. Manson slaps the back of Dace with his right arm, albeit with a few seconds delay between each, so as not to tap out.


"(Axis) Manson's slaps on the back of Dace seem of desperation, as he continues being choked out."


Manson though reaches up for Dace's head, as he fires off measured punches to the temple. Dace breaks his locked hands, as Manson slips out and part of the crowd becomes deflated, while the other portions clap for the break of the hold. Manson rolls out of the ring, collapsing at ringside, as Dace gathers his bearings.


"(Axis) He broke out of the Crownless with some hard shots to the side of the head, so this match isn't done just yet."


"(King) Besides, we still haven't seen any blood. I want blood, dammit."


"(Axis) Well, we may see some yet. Despite Manson's attempts to keep things relatively clean in the ring, Dace bested him and forced his hand. I suspect that Manson will try and play Dace's game soon."


Matt Kivell glances through the ropes checking on Manson, as he continues his rest. Dace gets up to his feet and climbs out of the ring, near the announcer's table. Manson stirs on the outside, reaching under the ring, before pulling himself up to his feet with the assistance of the ring apron. As Dace circles the corner, Manson quickly slides into the ring, kendo stick in hand! Dace follows after him by sliding in as well, and as he pushes himself off the mat, Manson charges, and cracks the cane over his head!


"(Axis) Manson, reaching for whatever he could under the ring and he emerged with the singapore cane!"


"(King) A loud smack over the head with the cane, and Manson has this match in his control again. But that could all change soon, as this match has been a see-saw battle thus far."


Dace slumps in the corner, having been knocked to the ground with the cane shot. Manson tosses the kendo stick aside, as he raises his right arm and mocks Night's own devil horns taunt, to loud jeers and hisses from the crowd. With the crowd booing, Manson cocks his head to the side and looks towards Dac, before charging and hitting a sliding Dropkick into his face.


"(Axis) Manson not endearing himself to the crowd or Dace. First mocking Night then booting him in the face."


Confident in his deeds, Manson yanks Dace out of the corner by his leg, and hooks it as he goes for a cover. Kivell goes down to count.




"(Axis) Dace kicks out just as Kivell's hand slaps the mat!"


"(King) Well finally someone gets a count…"


Manson, frustrated, slides out of the ring, and heads under the apron once again, this time in front of the announcer's booth. Searching frantically, he emerges with a ladder, to a pop from the crowd.


"(Axis) Manson is out in front of us, an he's bringing out the full hardware!"


"(King) This is what we've been waiting for."


Dace shakes off the effects of Manson's singapore cane shot and Dropkick, as he climbs up to his feet. Kivell watches both men, Dace searching for Manson, Manson pushing the ladder into the ring. Manson slides in himself, and lifts up the ladder as he stands. Dace meanwhile, bends down and picks up the singapore cane dropped by Manson. Manson, holding the ladder above his head is stopped in his tracks by Dace, who jams the point of the kendo stick into Manson's stomach, causing him to drop the ladder. Holding the kendo stick by it's ends, Dace takes a step forward and rams the point of the cane into Manson's forehead!


"(Axis) Manson's plan for the ladder was ill-conceived, as Dace recovers and sends Manson down with gouges from the cane."


Manson falls onto his back, and as he attempts to stand once more, Dace mounts and places the already broken kendo stick against his head. Looking to the crowd and back to Manson, Dace begins rubbing the length of the cane against Manson's forehead in a sawing motion.


"(King) Cut him open!"


Kivell tries to look away, as the kendo stick begins to become stained with red. Dace pulls the cane away, to reveal Manson's forehead now cut and noticibly bleeding. Dace Night grins, tosses the stick aside and he segues into the lateral press.






"(Axis) Manson kicks out just before two!"


"(King) And we got our bloodletting too!"


"(Axis) That we did, as Dace rakes open the head of Manson."


Dace sits, contemplating, before coming back up to his feet. Manson wipes blood and sweat from his brow, as Dace bends down to bring him up. But a desperate Manson shoots his arm up, and low blows Dace! Dace then falls to his knees, a grimace across his face.


"(Axis) Manson, taking a measure to ensure that Dace won't be able to have children…"


"(King) Kids suck anyway. Manson was doing Mr. Night a favour."


Manson wipes at his brow once again, his hair now stained crimson, before coming to a stand. He kicks the discarded ladder aside, and bends down to lift Dace up off the mat. Dace, still staggering, is synched by Manson around the waist. Manson hooks his hands, and with the realization of his predicament hitting him, Dace attempts to fight out of it. But it's too late, as Manson pulls Dace backward with a Backdrop Suplex! Landing on his upper back, Dace is folded over as Manson releases, opting not to go for the pin.


"(Axis) The force is with Manson once again, as he takes Dace over with the Backdrop. Let's see how he follows up."


Manson shoots up to his feet, as Dace struggles up to his. Manson stands in front of Night, preparing himself. And as Night comes to a stand, Manson grabs a hold of his left leg with both his arms. With a lift, Manson pushes him up and lets him fall, driving him face first into the ground with a Pancake. Manson spins towards Dace, and sets him onto his back, going for the pinfall…




"(Axis) Manson gets only a one count on Dace again, as Dace kicks out. This after a low blow, a Backdrop Suplex, and now a face first Pancake maneuver."


"(King) Like I said, Dace has never been put away so easily. Manson will have to do more… a lot more, from the looks of it."


Manson lets out a heavy sigh, as he angrily grabs and tosses the broken in two singapore cane clear out of the ring. Back on his feet once again, he drags the ladder into the center of the ring, as he waits for Dace to stand. Dace onto his feet, and Manson delivers a Scoop Slam onto the ladder. With Dace seemingly out, Manson runs towards the ropes nearest the announcer's position and leaps up onto the second rope…


"(Axis) Manson, going for the Lionsault!"


He flips backwards in mid air, and comes down… onto the ladder itself, as Dace rolls out of the way!


"(King) He misses it!"


"(Axis) Dace avoided the contact, as Manson collides with the ladder!"


"(King) Let's face it. He should have worked over Dace more before going for that kind of risk."


Dace pulls himself up with the help of the ring ropes, as Manson grasps at his stomach and groans in pain. With the ladder inches away from Manson, Night hoists it up and carries it to a near corner, propping it up. Now pulling Manson up, Dace grabs his left arm, and whips him towards it. Manson clashes with the ladder once again, as he crumbles to the mat under the ropes, and the earlier gash on his forehead begin to spout again.


"(Axis) That Quebrada Moonsault cost Manson big, as Dace is now set to take advantage by doing what he does best."


Dace lifts up Manson once again, and tosses him by his hair over the top rope, and down to the floor. Dace chases, followed by referee Matthew Kivell.


On the outside, Manson pushes himself up off the carpeting, as Dace stands over him. With Manson up, Dace rears back, and lets loose with a chop across the chest. Manson staggers and takes a fall back, now onto the wooden ramp. Dace pursues and lays a stomp to Manson in the ribs, as the two continue up the ramp. Manson speeds up the ramp and does his best to hurry away, but as he turns around to see just how far away Dace is, Dace takes him down with another Lariat. Manson takes a fall onto the stage area, with the participants and the referee in the match now being illuminated by the multitude of lights shining around them.


"(Axis) The two have now traveled far away from the familiarity of the ring, and are now up on the stage, right near the entrance!"


Manson, desperate to get away, crawls off the stage as the crowd oohs, and he falls seven feet down to a thinly carpeted area…


"(Axis) Manson has now escaped off the stage! There's no sissy mary padding down there, folks."


Dace, hesitant to head down, decides "what the hell," as he drops a lazy elbow onto the prone frame of Manson, nailing him in the back. Kivell makes his way down, as does a camera, to survey the two men laying still.


"(Axis) And Dace, with an Elbow Drop off the stage!"


"(King) That couldn't have been good for either of them. I hope they're alright."


"(Axis) I didn't know you cared."


"(King) I don't, actually. But both of them still need to make the SWF money."


Dace and Manson begin coming to, and Dace is the first, as he rolls Manson onto his back, going for a pin, as seen on the SmarkTron..






"(Axis) Shoulder up, just before Kivell's hand came down for two."


"(King) He was lucky on that one, that Dace didn't come to earlier."


Both men push themselves up, Manson up to his feet first. Dace waistlocks Manson from behind, but Manson breaks the hands apart and delivers a back elbow to the temple of Dace, one just as hard as Night's elbows earlier. Dace goes down to a knee, as Manson climbs up a set of nearby stairs, back onto the stage. Dace gives chase, up the same flight of steps, but Manson heads through the entrance curtain, leaving Dace behind.


"(Axis) Manson is now heading backstage in an attempt to lose Dace Night."


"(King) Ooh. Impromptu Hide and Seek match!"


"(Axis) Lord, I hope not. But whatever the case, Manson has a few steps on Dace right now."


"(King) Well, let's get some cameras back there."


On the SmarkTron, Manson is shown stumbling through the gorilla position, passing various road agents such as Alex Zenon and Tod deKindes, along with other SWF and SJL staff. Manson emerges from the long hallway into an open area, where SWF emblazoned trailers can be seen in the distance. Back on the stage, Dace looks up at the 'Tron, and now knowing where Manson's gone, he along with Matt Kivell head through the curtain.


"(Axis) Dace knows the position of Manson now… Serves the coward right."


Night makes his way along the same path Manson went down earlier, and as he emerges from the dark tunnel…




He's clobbered with a chair to his head from the side as Manson flies across the screen!


"(King) You were saying, Axis?"


Manson throws the bent chair down, and the crowd boos as they watch on the 'Tron. Manson shrugs at Kivell cockily as he yanks Night up by his spiked hair. Night's forehead is now clearly busted open, as Manson drags him back through the gorilla position.


"(Axis) Night is now cut open! And just… shut up. So this was a rare instance where cowardice paid off. Big deal."


"(King) Rare? Look at Ric Flair, he made an entire career out of cowardice. Along with myself, the greatest heel the SWF has ever known. So choke on it and enjoy it, jerky."


With cameras once again fixated on the stage, Manson drags Dace out through the curtain, and tosses him down the ramp. Dace, despite his attempts to stop himself, rolls all the way down the ramp as Manson walks slowly behind him, with Kivell following. Dace comes to a hard stop, and he immediately tries to pull himself up with the aid of the ring barrier, but Manson arrives, and stands back to back with Dace, hooking his arms with his own. Manson digs against the carpeted ringside, and Dace is brought down with a Backslide. Kivell counts…






But Dace kicks out of it!


"(Axis) Dace was in a nasty situation there, but he gets out of the attempt."


"(King) The chance to humiliate Dace was too much. And humiliating others is fun. But he probably should have gone for the pin off the earlier chair shot, in retrospect."


Dace pushes up off the ground, onto his feet, as Manson searches for the chair discarded long ago at ringside, left over from the very beginning of the match. He finds it, picks it up and slides it into the ring, before going in himself. He calls for Dace to climb into the ring, and he does so cautiously. Manson then lifts up the chair quickly and tosses it to Dace, who catches it. With a charge, Manson lifts a leg and leans into it, going for the Yakuza Kick into the held chair. Dace dodges the kick however, and turning around…




He drives the chair into the face of Manson.


"(Axis) Maybe it wasn't such a great idea for Manson to be bringing that chair in as the attempted kick into the chair backfires."


Manson is knocked for a loop, as Dace throws down the chair and goes for a pin…






"(Axis) A kickout at two for Manson!"


Manson shakes his head from side to side, as Dace gets up to his feet and pulls Manson up. Dace throws his left arm over the head of Manson and synches Manson's waistband, appearing to go for a Suplex but Manson fights out of it. Manson's feet back on the ground, he muscles Dace up now, and brings him up halfway, before dropping him forward onto his stomach as Manson sits out.


"(Axis) Manson, hitting the Mind-Bender aka the Front Sit-Out Suplex on Dace!"


Dace flips over onto his back as a result of the impact from the move, and Manson pins his shoulders as the fans rise.








"(Axis) But Dace with the shoulder up at two and a half!"


Manson wipes dried blood off his forehead, as he stands and walks over to set up the ladder which he collided with earlier on. Dace pushes himself up to his feet, groggy but still very much in it, as Manson shoves Dace into the corner opposite the ladder, which sits in the corner nearest the announcer's table. Night avoids attack however by pulling out a dirty trick and raking the eyes of Manson. Manson stumbles away and rubs his eyes in an attempt to regain his vision, but Dace places him in the standing head scissors and hooks the arms. Dace lifts him up, and drives him down high and tight onto his back with a Tiger Driver!"


"(Axis) Venom Driver by Dace! But Dace is slow into the cover!"








"(Axis) Two and three-quarters! Manson kicks out in time!"


"(King) So very close."


Dace covers his face and lets out a groan in frustration, as he stands, and lifts Manson up off the ground. Dace releases a good chop across the chest, before grasping the arm of Manson and sending him across the ring towards the ladder. Manson leaps up onto the ladder though, avoiding a painful collision. Dace angrily charges, but is booted in the face by Manson, now sitting on the ladder. Manson hooks the arms of Dace Night, and leaps off the ladder, turning in mid-air…


"(Axis) Here we go…"


And he plants Dace with the Tornado Double Arm DDT!


"(King) Dace, driven right on top of his head…"


"(Axis) Manson into the cover, with Kivell going down to count…








::Ding Ding!::


"(Funyon) Your winner, by pinfall, MAAANSON!"


"Hate Song" by the Haunted hits, as Matt Kivell raises the hand of Manson, still down on the ground alongside Dace, both of their faces covered in dried blood.


"(Axis) Manson is victorious here tonight as he brings the funk with a Double Arm DDT off the ladder, but up next is our main event. Crow versus Sean Atlas fighting for the SJL World Title in the Hell in a Cell."

Edited by realitycheck

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Guest realitycheck

Fading in from a promotional plug of SWF Battleground, Axis and the Suicide King are shown sitting behind the commentary desk. Clearly worn out from a night of jabbering, they discuss their final match for the night, the Main Event.


“Well, the time has come, ladies and gentlemen” Exclaims Axis. “To see our newly crowned World Champion, Crow defend his title, and the legitimacy of his reign against the man he pinned to win it, Sean Atlas.


“Ever since Thursday night, Sean has been fuming over losing the title belt” Says the Suicide King. “Especially to his own move, the Saint’s Demise. Tonight, he’ll be looking to get it back inside that enormous solid steel structure.”


“Speaking of which, that structure is on its way down to us at this very moment.” Replies Axis.


“And while it’s being lowered, let’s take a look at exactly what got us here, to this one on one matchup between the Antichrist Superstar Crow and the Masked Machiavellian Sean Atlas:”



Fade Out. Play -> “Renegades of Funk”






...Crow, still facing Tryst instead of Sean behind him, has no idea that Atlas stands behind him, wielding the ring bell. As Crow turns around, Sean steps off and charges towards him, lifting the bell and...




”Atlas takes the bird out with the ring bell!” Axis exclaims.




With the sweat pouring down his face and the thought of winning the match overcoming him, Atlas turns, looking at every fan in the arena before hitting the move...







”Crow taks Sean Atlas down to the mat with the Das Wonder Kick!”

Just as the red streak of blood reaches his lips and enters his mouth, Crow crudely licks it and takes it in, Atlas DRIVES his knee between Crow’s legs, hitting a low blow fiercer than even the bird’s!


”Sean Atlas! Getting revenge on Crow for the earlier shot!” yells Axis.




Crow cleverly maneuvers himself and Sean to lock on the SHARPSHOOTER!


”Sharpshooter by Crow!”


”At the same time as Atlas’ Katahajime!”


”Who will tap first?!?”



...Crow hears two words loud and clear above all the clamor in the building...






“Who quit?” asks Axis.


”Did Crow win?”


“Who’s our number one contender?”



“The winner of this bout... and your NEW NUMBER ONE CONTENDER FOR THE WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP...”



”Who is it?!?”






...Crow is in disbelief! Sean Atlas steals one from the bird!



| ---------- [sJL CRIMSON – APRIL 10] ---------- |


Va’aiga crawls to his knees, then stands and stares down Crow, who responds with a smirk and demonic gaze. Va’aiga looks at Crow, then at the chair, and as Crow moves in for the kill Va’aiga stoops down and grabs hold of the chair swinging it up in one flashing blow...





Catching Crow soundly under the chin with the flat of the chair!


Crow’s neck snaps back and his entire body flies backwards. The referee calls for the bell!






“The winner of this bout, as a result of a disqualification is... CRROOOOOOWWWW!!!!!”




...later that night...




Surrounded by broken glass, severed ropes, and lawn equipment, he faces the side of the ring that lacks any ropes. Beyond its edge sit the announcers, visibly speaking but Sean hears none of it. Instead, he heads towards them, and leaps off....



“ Duck and cover!”

















Atlas claws his way inside the ring, crawling towards the limp body of Dace Night. He finally drapes his weak arm over and covers



...ONE... “...7...” ...TWO... “...6...”









In all the shock engulfing the fans, amidst all the astonishment, Atlas desperately hooks both legs, presses his shoulder against Dace’s chest and hopes beyond all hope that it gets the job done...



“...3...” ...ONE... “...2...” ...TWO... “...1...”















| ---------- [sJL CRIMSON – LAST THURSDAY] ---------- |



It’s Crow! It’s Crow! He’s back from the dead and revenge is on his mind!” shouts King, pointing the Antichrist Superstar.


The crowd begins to cheer like mad as Crow slides into the ring and sneakily walks up behind Atlas... and with the quickness of a cat applies a crossface chickenwing! The Antichrist Superstar lifts him up!












“SEAN ATLAS KICKS OUT OF THE WING AND A PRAYER SUPLEX! How!? How!? He must be desperate to keep his title, King!” exclaims an excited Axis.




Atlas reverses the whip and sends Crow into the ropes! Crow comes off and is heaved up horizontally onto the Atlas’ shoulders...!



NOOOOOOOOOOO! Crow swings off Atlas’ shoulders and lands in front, then at the speed of lightning applies a front face lock and heaves Atlas into the air. Crow jumps up and kicks his legs out!!




















“HOW!? HOW!?”



Crow can’t believe it and rolls off of Atlas and lies on the canvas clutching his hair! What can he do to beat this guy!? Crow sits up and looks up at the Smarktron... there’s less than 15 seconds left! Crow with a new purpose yanks Atlas up and throws his arm through Atlas’ legs and lifts him onto his shoulders... horizontally...






























































“Sean Atlas is enraged! His reign ended early, cut off by the Antichrist Superstar, CROW!”



“What kind of havoc, what devastation will he release upon Crow inside Hell in a Cell?!?”



“The Antichristian... The Antichrist... World Heavyweight Championship... HELL in a CELL... NEXT!!!”

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Guest realitycheck




Fading back in on a high angle view of the First Union Center crowd, we see the gigantic metal structure encompassing the ring. A man of medium stature stands next to it, holding a microphone.


“Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is for one fall, and is for the SJL WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP! Conducted inside the confines of a solid steel Hell in a Cell, the competitors will be locked in until one of them has won the match via pinfall or submission. Note, the pinfall or submission must take place in the ring.”



The lights instantly dim down and begin to flash to the opening chords of “Polyamorous” by Breaking Benjamin. Five seconds in, just before the heavy bass drums make themselves heard...






A colossal explosion goes off onstage, leaving behind a haze of smoke. White light coming from the entranceway illuminates the smoke as is dissipates, while the silhouette of Sean Atlas appears from within. As he steps out in plain sight, a sustained chorus of booing and laughter welcomes him. Funyon, who by now has cautiously stepped out to ringside, introduces the masked man.


“Introducing first, the challenger, from Chicago, Illinois, weighing in at 230 pounds... please welcome... SSEEEEAAAANNNAN ATLAS!”


Atlas quickly makes his way to the edge of the cage. Standing on the shag carpet at ringside, Atlas examines the structure, looking for a way to use it to his advantage. He walks through the open door and slides inside the ring, peering out at the crowd through chain links.



“Sean will be looking to get his title back here, Axis” says the Suicide King.


“Obviously” replies Axis. “The thing is, he’s never actually beaten Crow. In their first encounter, it was Tryst who tapped out. And last week, Crow beat him clean in the middle of the ring. That’s a big chip to have on your shoulder, and Atlas is definitely looking to get rid of it tonight.”



Just as King ends his phrase, Sean’s music fades away. A momentary silence before...




...explodes through the arena speakers! An eruption of cheers occurs as Soilwork’s “Natural Born Chaos” strats up! A moment later, emerging from behind the curtain wearing the World Title on his shoulder is The Anitchrist Superstar, Crow! He stands on the stage, unlit cigarette in his mouth, lighter in hand. To the climaxing music, Crow ignites the lighter, also setting off two flaming rows down the side of the ramp! He lights the Dunhill Red in his mouth and begins his walk down to the ring.


“And his opponent, making his way to the ring, from Anchorage, Alaska, weighing in at 231 pounds, please welcome the SJL WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION... CCRRRRROOOOOWWWWW!!!”


The champion arrives at cageside and hands his belt over to the referee for the bout, Ced Ordoñez. He takes a moment to feel the cage’s structure, the strength of the steel and give of the chain linked walls. He then walks through and watches as Ced follows, chaining the door. Crow pushes the referee to the side and taking the lock in his hand, snaps it shut himself.


“Looks like Crow is just as eager to get into this match as Atlas is.” Axis notes.


“Maybe so,” replies King. “But Sean has plenty more motivation for winning it here.”


“You might be right here, King look at him!”



Coming off the ropes, Atlas runs towards the door and more specifically towards Crow on the outside and baseball slides down to kick him in the back!




“And Crow goes down at ringside, falling onto the steel mesh wall of the cage!” Yells an excited Suicide King.


Atlas takes him by the head and drags him along the wall, but Crow quickly fight back with a back elbow to the side of Sean’s head. He turns around to face the former champion, and attacks with stiff back fists, knocking his back against the edge of the ring. Atlas leans back and uses the ring for leverage as he kicks Crow away, then rolls under the bottom rope to get in the ring.


“A sneak attack and some cheap shots by Sean start this match off.” Notes Axis. “If this is the way it starts, I can’t imagine how this battle will end.”


Already angered, Crow slides headlong into the ring and goes after Sean, charging at him... Atlas throws up a clothesline... ducked by Crow! He reaches the rope and springs off it as Sean turns around, expecting another charge from Crow. As the bird reaches him, Atlas leaps in the air and hops over the charging champion with a leapfrog! He comes down thinking that Crow has already run past him and turns around, only to feel Crow’s arm latch onto his head and slam him down with a DDT!


“King, I think Crow knows what he’s doing when he’s fighting Sean Atlas.” Says the play-by-play man. “He fell for that leapfrog twice before but this time, he saw it coming.”


“Luck, preparedness, it’s all the same” retorts the Suicide King.


Crow gets up, clearly not wanting to pin Atlas this early. He helps the masked man to his feet and before Sean can orient himself...


*Smack*... “Whooo!”


...Crow unleashes a series of knife edge chops on Atlas!



*Smack* ... “Whooo!”


*Smack* ... “Whooo!”


*Sm...SMACK* “Booo!”



“Sean Atlas returns the favor to the bird, firing off some chops of his own!” says Axis.



*Smack* ... “Boooo!”


*Smack* ... “Boooo!”



“They’re not saying ‘boo’,” claims King. “They’re saying ‘Booaatlas’!”



*Smack* ... “Boooo!”



“Booaatlas?” asks his cohort in commentary, Axis.



*Smack* ... “Boooo!”



“Yep, as friendly nickname.” Replies the King. “You know these Philly fans. Always with the silliness.”



*Smack* ... “Whooo!”



“And here comes Crow with some chops of his own!”



*Smack* ... “Boooo!”


*Smack* ... “Whooo!”


*Smack* ... “Boooo!”


*Smack* ... “Whooo!”


*Smack* ... “Boooo!”


*Smack* ... “Whooo!”


*SMACK* *SLAM!* Sean Atlas has finally had enough as he smacks the champion across the face, the follows up with a lightning quick Neckbreaker!



“I knew Atlas would get the better end of that exchange.”



It doesn’t take Crow very long to get back to his feet, but Sean stands waiting for him and taking him by the arm, shoots him off towards the far ropes... but as he so often does, Atlas holds on and Crow snaps right back to him, towards the waiting grim of the masked challenger... but he hits the breaks and stops himself, then falls on his back with Sean’s arm in hand, pulling him over with an Arm Drag!



“Yet another sign that Crow knows exactly what he’s up against, King.” Notes the Australian voice.


Atlas bounced right back up and heads for Crow, but runs right into another Arm Drag.


“Hah, right. He has no idea.” King retorts. “You just wait till Sean pulls out the heavy artillery...”


“You seem to have built a resentment towards Crow, King... even though last week he was one of your favourite wrestlers.”


“He’s softened, dammit!”


Both men spring up to their feet and Crow continues on the attack, setting up behind Sean with a rear waistlock, looking for a German... but as he lifts, Atlas loosens his hold and drops back down to his feet. He moves himself back, latching on to Crow’s neck in the process and ends up putting him in an Inverted Facelock to set up the Reverse DDT... yet Crow escapes again, flipping himself over inside Sean’s grip, latched onto his hips and flips him over with...


“ A Northern Lights Suplex!” Yells an excited Axis. “Northern lights from the champion! And he bridges...”







...TWO.... NO!



“But Sean gets his shoulder up at two!” He says, disappointed.


“It won’t be that easy, Birdie.” Says the King. “Last time you beat Atlas there was another man in the ring. Now it's just you, pal.”



Crow returns to his feet. He grabs Sean by the arm and sends him running to the far ropes. He bounces off and returns to a doubled-over crow, waiting to hit a back body drop. Sean instantly slows down and sends a kick to the gut of the champion, but Crow is ready and grabs hold of his boot! He stands upright, holding an one-legged Sean Atlas by the foot and leans in to wrap around his neck...



“He’s not going for the Leg Capture Suplex...!?” asks a frantic King.


“He sure IS!” says Axis...




“And there it is!” he confirms. Taking a move that Atlas himself is known for using.”



A self-confident and fan-supported Crow gets to his feet, but is soon met by an angry masked man. Atlas goes after Crow, irritated at the grand theft signature move, but soon loses his footing when Crow takes him down with a drop toe hold! The bird floats over and stands above Sean, wrapping his arms around his waist from above and pulls back... flipping Sean over and hitting the Wheelbarrow Suplex!!


“Dammit, that bird just keeps on stealing Atlas’ moves!” the King protests.


“It’s not like Sean is the only one who can use them...” Axis replies. “Nothing wrong with that.”


“You’re on his side! You Aussie bitch, you’re rootin’ for the hometown boy!”


“Again, nothing wrong with that.”



Meanwhile, in the ring, Crow has stood up and waits for Sean to stagger to his feet. Atlas though, adamant in his pursuit of the thieving Crow stands up quite quickly and heads for the bird... but Crow ducks the clothesline attempt and runs past him, towards the ropes. He bounces off, just as Atlas sprints back towards him, and as the two get near one another, they both leave their feet...


And Atlas gets higher, catching Crow with a Lou Thesz Press! He continues with non-stop punches, hitting the Antichrist Superstar left and right! No warning from any referee can stop him as he gets his revenge on the bird-thief, refusing to allow him to get away with it. He eventually lets up however, but only after visible scarring appears on Crow’s face.


“Good for you, Sean!” proclaims King. “That bird deserved it.”



Atlas peels Crow off the mat and sets his arm up between his leg, holding the champion in a Pumphandle. He reaches around under the other arm and lifts, trying to hit the Stretch Suplex on him, and he lifts... but as he’s done twice before, Crow once again floats over the top of Sean, landing on his feet! Atlas’ arm still in his grip, Crow wraps it around his neck, forcing Atlas to put himself in a headlock, and then turns around and SLAMS the masked man down to the mat!


“Immaculate Neckbreaker by the champion, Crow!” yells an even more excited Axis. “He covers for the pin...”



















“Three! That makes three moves stolen, dammit!” yells the King. “What, does he think that ever since he beat Atlas with his own finisher on Crimson he can simply use his entire move set tonight?!”


“No, he just found an advantage, King.”


“Yeah. He found that Atlas’ manoeuvres and impact moves work better. How brilliant of him.”



A mildly frustrated Crow gets back to his feet, pulling Sean Atlas up with him. He puts on a front face lock and quickly executes a Snap Suplex. Standing back up again, Crow lifts Sean to his feet and stands to his side, sliding his leg between Atlas’ and spreading his arm out... but a moment after, Crow doubles over, letting out a gasp of breath as Atlas lowers the back of his boot out of Crow’s crotch.



“A low blow by that mischievous Sean Atlas!” Axis protests.


“Serves him right.” King replies. “It’s all legal here, and I can’t think of a better retaliation. Crow won’t be getting any celebratory or sympathetic pussy tonight!”



Reversing the roles that were in place just a moment ago, Atlas slides his leg between the bird’s, then spreads his arm across Sean’s back and falls down, hitting a Russian Leg Sweep of his own! As Crow recuperates, Atlas decides to skip the recovery time and stands up, pulling the champion to his feet. He takes his arms and locks them under his own, holding them straight out. Then, falling onto his back, Atlas lifts the champion off his feet and slams him down, using his own Entrapment Suplex!


To the boos of the crowd, Atlas gets to his feet taking no time to rest. He pulls Crow up and forces him into a corner. Grabbing onto the middle rope, Sean rears back a DRIVES his shoulder into the gut of the champion! Pulling back again... and AGAIN he slams himself into Crow’s midsection... a third time back... and a third time forward! Crow is practically sitting on the middle pad now as Sean pull shim out of the corner and lifts him higher, getting him to sit down on the top rope.



“What’s Sean planning to do here, King?”


“I’m not sure, but it certainly isn’t a stolen move.”



Atlas stands atop the middle rope, applying a front face lock onto the sitting Crow. He places one leg on the top rope and tries climbing up, hoping to get enough leverage to Suplerplex Crow off the top... But the bird fights back, shaking loose the grip of the challenger, and with one strong, desperate thrust sends Atlas falling to the mat!


Crow steps over the top rope to stand on the in-ring side of the middle one. Meanwhile, Sean Atlas rolls through and finds his footing, quickly getting back up. He charges at the waiting Crow... and the Bird jumps off the top... Catches Atlas in a facelock... and swings around to drive his head to the mat with a MURDEROUS DDT!



“Swinging DDT from the Antichrist Superstar! He caught Atlas out of nowhere, King!”


“And he FINALLY hit a move that he didn’t steal, Axis!” adds King.



Both men lie on the canvas, winded and wounded. The referee doesn’t begin a double countout, as a winner must be decided via pinfall or submission. Soon enough though, both men start to come to their feet simultaneously. They each plant the soles of their boots down and face one another, neither man beating his opponent to the punch.


Suddenly, the lunge at each other and Crow is the one who gains the advantage when he duck under Sean’s swinging arm and applies a rear waistlock, looking for a German Suplex! ... but no! Atlas gets away, swinging around to the side of the champion, then behind him to apply a Full Nelson. He lifts...!


And Crow lands right back on his feet, escaping from the move! He wriggles out of the hold and slides his arm under Sean’s from the side, attempting a Hip Toss... but it doesn’t go through when Atlas swings over and yet, doesn’t fall to it! He slides up behind Crow again and applies a Chickenwing, then reaches around in front of Crow, placing his arm across the face of the champion...



“I think he’s looking to use Crow’s own Wing and a Prayer Suplex!” yells Axis.



But Crow fights out of it! Knocking back Atlas’ hand! His first arm is still locked in a chickenwing however, and now, Sean hooks around to catch the other one with a Half Nelson. He pops his hips and to the sound of an overly excited crowd, lifts the Antichrist Superstar up over his head...


...and SLAMS him back down to the mat, driving his head and shoulders into the canvas!



“What the hell was that??” asks the Australian... (Axis that is. Not Paul Hogan.)


“That looked to me like a Half Nelson-Chickenwing Suplex” King answers. “Known to some as the Tequila Sunrise.”


“Well it did its job. We all thought Atlas was about to use Crow’s favourite signature manoeuvre, but instead Sean Atlas pulled out a move we’ve never seen him use before.”



Atlas stands up, leaving behind a downed Crow on the mat. To an arena full of jeers, he runs towards the ropes perpendicular to Crow’s legs and bounces off. Coming back, Sean kneels down to grab onto the bird’s legs and flips over, his feet landing just to the sides of his opponent’s head, bridging over his body to hold the legs and pin him...


















...NOO! Crow gets a shoulder up and kicks out of the Jackknife Pin.



“That’s quite an odd way to cover someone.” Notes the Australian again.


“Well, when you’re opponent is stealing your whole inventory of attacks, you’ve got to bring out the new stuff.” Replies the colour man.



Slamming his fist against the ring canvas, Sean forces himself to stand up. He drags Crow’s weakened body off the mat and lets loose with kicks to the legs, knocking out Crow’s support. He takes the champion down to one knee and throws his arm around his neck, but Crow knocks it away! The fans cheer him on as he slaps Sean’s hand off a second time and thrusts his leg out, aiming for Sean’s head...!



But Atlas catches the leg! He doesn’t keep it for long however and throws it to the side, spinning Crow around... The bird does a full 360 and comes back around, only to meet the opposing boot of Sean Atlas with his own gut... Sean turns around, hooks Crow’s head over his shoulder.... and brings him down with a 3/4 Facelock Bulldog!!! The crowd pops for the move, but boos Sean as he pops right back up, turning the 3/4 Facelock into a Inverted Facelock... and SLAMS Crow down using an Inverted DDT!!! He covers!

























“What in the world did he just do???” asks an amazed Axis.


“I think... it’s a new move... sort of a Stunner to Reverse DDT... thing.” Answers an equally amazed Suicide King.


“Well...” Axis says. “It seems Crow’s strategy of using Atlas’ standard offence has backfired. But not entirely, as Crow did manage to kick out of that impressive combination.”



Indeed he did, infuriating Sean Atlas even more. Lying in the middle of the ring with his hands covering his head, Atlas forces himself up and is visibly losing control. He takes Crow by the arm and drags him up, not even waiting for him to stand. He whips him towards the closes set of ropes and lifts him higher, throwing the Antichrist Superstar over the top rope...






“Ugh! Painful looking landing on Crow’s part” notes the play-by-play man.


“Lucky for him there’s a nice and soft carpet there to break his fall.” King says, jokingly.



Stepping through the ropes, Sean follows him to the outside. He stands over the fallen Antichrist Superstar and lifts him up by the collar, standing him up on the outside... then shoves his back into the steel of the cell, right into a bar of the frame! He takes the grunting champion by the hand and with a whip......!




... Launches him directly into the ring steps! Both layers slide out from the impact as Crow screams in pain, blood now visible on his skin. Methodically, with a purpose, Sean walks to the fallen opponent and gets him standing. Seeing the steps next to him fallen to the side, Atlas takes Crow and locks on a Front Face Lock, then lifts him up in a vertical Suplex... Holding him straight up, Atlas takes a few steps back...


Slamming Crow’s back into the steel again, while holding him upside down! He keeps his balance with an extra 231 pounds above him and steps forward, back towards the stairs...




And DROPS Crow right onto the steep stairs! His chest and abs hit it perfectly, educing a shrill of a scream from him, followed by a sustained jeer from the crowd!





“Ohh, Atlas at his finest right there!” proclaims the King. “He saw the opportunity and took it.”


“Don’t forget that Crow tends to feed off this kind of action.” Axis replies. “He’s a self-proclaimed masochist and bleeding is more of a drug to him than a wound.”



As Crow lies face down on the steel, Sean reaches under the ring for a weapon... And pulls out a bat! With nails! The same bat he used to win the title the first time!



“Atlas is staring at it as if looking upon the face of God!” claims Axis.


“Ironic, as Sean doesn’t believe in one, but hey your analogy stands.”



He turns around, wielding the weapon in his hands. Nearby fans with a clear view of his intentions get louder, warning Crow to stands up at once! But the champion can only do so much as lift his head up slightly, and as Sean rears the bat back behind him, nails sticking out of its barrel, a unanimous sustained gasp engulfs the arena... he swings!






“Crow rolled away!!!” Axis yells. “He rolled out of the way, avoiding certain doom!”



Crow did indeed roll out of the way; turning over and lying face up on the rug. The sharp nails protruding from the wooden bat get caught in the sheet metal of the stairs as Sean tries to get it out, but soon gives up and returns his attention back to the Antichrist Superstar instead.


Lifting him up by the neck, Atlas gets the wounded and bleeding Antichristian Phenomenon standing. Pulling him back, Sean charges towards the cage wall in front of him, driving Crow’s face into the chain links! He smothers his face against the metal dragging the bloody masochist left and right, shredding the skin of his face!



“Directly in front of us, Sean Atlas is destroying the champion!” yells an excited Suicide King. “You can almost smell the blood, folks!”


Sean drags the body of Crow over to the corner of the ring, to the right side from the vantage point of the announcers. Backing up against a part of the frame of the cage, Sean stands to the side of Crow and hooks his leg, preparing to hit a Russian Leg Sweep into the steel frame of the Cell...


But Crow stops it! Prevents it! And pushes Sean Atlas forward into the metal ring post!! The fans erupt as the champion drops to his knees, blood dripping from his face, into his eyes, his mouth, and onto the ground...



“I knew it! The blood stimulated Crow and gave him the power to stop Sean Atlas’ attacks!” Axis says.


“Are you kidding me? He got a shot of adrenaline, Axis, blood had nothing to do with it!” replies King. “In fact, he’s staining that beautiful expensive shag carpet with his damn blood.”


“The carpet’s fine, King. It won’t suffer one bit. Besides, it’s not like you paid for it or anything.”



From his knees, Crow latches on to Atlas’ hand and tries pulling him back. All he gets is resistance from Sean though, as Atlas tugs on his arm again and whips him towards the other set of stairs in the rear corner... but Crow reverses...!




...And Atlas meets the cold steel of the steps! Leaning against the ring for support, the Antichrist Superstar walks towards Sean, stopping shortly before reaching him. He lifts the apron and reaches below the ring for a weapon, pulling out...



“A Singapore Cane! Crow has a cane, King!”


“I see that, man. I have eyes too!”



Sean Atlas begins to get himself up off the surface of the steps, but is not given more than a second before the Singapore cane strikes him in the back! It remains unbroken and Crow once again STRIKES the back of his opponent!



“And now Sean Atlas suffers from the use of weapons by Crow” yells Axis.


“He’ll come back, don’t you worry.”



Crow awaits Atlas as he comes up to his feet. He still wields the cane in his hand, ready to swing it as Sean stands upright, in the far left corner of the cage... Crow swings!




And hits nothing but the metal ringpost, breaking the Singapore Cane in the process! Sean sees an opportunity and takes a swing at the vulnerable champion... but gets it blocked, the punch returned, and followed up with a Roundhouse kick to the head!



“The champion sends Sean Atlas reeling against the cage wall with a stiff Das Wonder Kick,” notes Axis. “And Crow’s advantage seems to be growing.”


“If a Singapore Cane is the best he can do, that advantage won’t last very long.” replies the Suicide King.


“Seriously, King... what the hell did Crow do to change your opinion of him so hastily?”


“Pffft! I revised my friendships!”



Throwing the broken Cane away, the Antichrist Superstar reaches under the ring again... and pulls out a chair!! He leans it against the corner of the ring and goes back under for more...



“What’s he looking for?” asks the King of Hearts.



The question is soon answered as Crow pulls out three long Glass Light Tubes! The fans erupt yet again as Crow takes the chair, unfolding it slightly. He checks on Sean, who leans against the cage wall, blood dripping from his head, and returns to the chair and light tubes. He slides each tube through the framing of the chair sealing it between the bottom crossbars, flat seat, and top back support...



“You don’t think he’s thinking what I think he’s thinking...” says a confused Axis.


“I do... and actually, I like it!” King replies.



Carefully taking the chair in his hands, Crow lifts it by the feet, keeping the light tubes in place on the lightly ajar but tightly gripped chair. He waits for Sean to turn around, wanting Atlas to see exactly what’s about to happen to him...








He swings!





“He missed!” yells the King. “Crow missed and hit nothing but the cell wall!”



Atlas managed to duck under the swing, which was relatively slow considering the extra light bulbs. The tubes shattered as they collided with the metal cell, then fell down onto the chair. Looking at a shocked Crow, Atlas finds he can take advantage of the moment and swings his leg around on the floor, sweeping Crow off his feet!


Atlas gradually comes back up, but Crow does as well. Sean waits behind him, out of view as the champion reaches his feet, then turns around and Sean takes off...!



“SPEAR! Spear by Sean Atlas to Crow into the cell wall, onto the chair and all the broken glass!” Yells a thrilled Suicide King. “The champion is down, Sean, get him in the ring!”



But Sean has other ideas. He goes back under the ring, looking for yet another weapon... Bending over under the apron, he seems to be taking his time... That is, until we hear:




“Oh no.”




“Please, please no...”








Through the blood in his eyes, through the hair in his face, Crow watches as Sean glares upon the saw as if worshiping it. He powers it on, staring at the body as the fuel runs through it. At the sharp saw as is rotates at a speed unseen to the naked eye. He then shifts his focus onto the champion, leaning back in the corner with nowhere to turn!



“Sean, don’t do this! Don’t do it Atlas, you’ll regret it!” pleads Axis.



But the chainsaw wielding man has no regard for his pleads, Crow’s safety, or the consequences of what he’s about to do... The blood pours down his face, seeping out through the scars in his white leather mask, cut up from his first World Title match. And for what seems like the first time ever... EVER, Crow’s eyes show fear. The sight of the circular saw, and the potential harm it can do has finally frightened the Antichrist Superstar...








“HE MISSED! ATLAS MISSED CROW AND GOT THE CAGE! THERE IS A GOD!” yells Axis as the saw powers through the edge of one of the cage’s walls, sawing through to the outside. The cut in the mesh leads out into the rampway, which then goes up onto the staging... it’s very possible the fight is going to spill out there tonight. Crow, who managed to duck out of the way and avoid MASSIVE harm, latches on to Atlas’ back... he locks on a Chickenwing... then a Rear Facelock and he lifts...


...Hitting a Wing and a Prayer Suplex on Sean Atlas, driving his head into the rug! The crowd doesn’t die down one bit as the champion crawls over to the saw, powering it off.



“Great work by Crow, taking out Sean Atlas and turning the Chainsaw off.” says Axis. “That thing has absolutely NO place in a wrestling match.”


“So you say, Axis.” retorts the King. “But that chainsaw just powered right through the cage, and these guys can now walk right out.”



But it doesn’t look like Crow wants to leave just yet. He picks up the unpowered chainsaw, holding it by the stationary blade. He turns around to face the ringpost, and rearing the Chainsaw back, swings it at the metal...




And breaks its body across the post of the ring!



“That’ll do it! No more lawn equipment in the SJL!” proclaims the daft Australian.


“Look at that, the saw’s leaking fuel!” King replies.



Crow notices the fuel as well, and suddenly, an enormous grin appears on his face. Sadism returns to the mind of the Antichrist Superstar and his eyes light up! Fire burns within those eyes as he takes the broken saw, checks on Atlas – still down – and begins to walk around the ring, leaking saw in hand. He comes around to the near side, listening to the confused crowd as he turns the corner, walking past the spot he landed when Sean threw him out. He turns another corner, past the first set of stairs, past the commentary table on the other side of the cell, and turns the third corner, making his way back to Atlas, leaking fuel around the perimeter of the ring.



“Hey Axis, remember what I said about the expensive carpet being fine?” the King asks.


“Yeah...” Says a suspicious play-by-play man.


“Scratch that.”


“I see. He just emptied that tank all over it, making sure that saw won’t run again. It also seems that Crow is bleeding from the palms, obviously being cut up by the sharp end of the chainsaw when he swung it... was it worth it?”



The Antichrist Superstar reaches the spot where Sean Atlas lies just as the saw’s tank runs out. The liquid line of gasoline doesn’t connect though, what with the mess of metal, glass and flesh in that corner. Crow helps Atlas to his feet, getting him standing against the wall of the cage. He reaches into his pocket, taking something in his hand and pulling his arm back out, swinging it in front of Atlas face....


He stops! Crow pulls his punch, then opens his palm to reveal...



“A LIGHTER?? Oh no...”


“He can’t be...”


“He wouldn’t.....”


“He could...”


“But he couldn’t!”


“He’s done it before! Remember our announcing table!?”



Crow flips open the cap on the Zippo lighter, shoving it right in Sean’s face, smiling from ear to ear... He flicks the little wheel, igniting the flame on the small but hazardous object... Taking a few steps back, Crow raises the lighter above his head, showing all the fans just what he plans to do...



“No, don’t do it. Don’t do it, Crow. You don’t want this, champ.”


“Axis, I suggest you stand up...”



Sean pleads with him, raising his hands in front of him to not do it... But it’s no use. Crow slowly increases the intensity of the flame, turning the slider to its highest setting... To the sound of the anxious crowd, to Sean’s pleading and the announcers’ silence, Crow visibly mouths one single solitary word....





... And drops the lighter.










The flame travels around the ring quickly, engulfing its perimeter until it stops just behind Atlas. He cowardly jumps into the ring, backing up and staring at Crow as if he is Satan personified. The Antichrist Champion, meanwhile, takes his position in the small amount of room where no gasoline was spilled, showing a devious smile on his bloody face.








As the flame spreads and widens, fans seated in the front row take several steps back, concerned for their own safety. Atlas watches the champion as he stands among the flames, carefully positioned where no fire is present, but clearly the flames are all around him! But to the disappointment of some and relief of others, over a dozen stagehands sprint down the ramp, each wielding a fire extinguisher...


“Thank god! This fire has to be put out before the fire brigade comes and evacuates the arena!”


The numerous stagehands rush ringside and then position themselves accordingly around the cell... and in Crow’s mind they all prematurely start blowing white stuff... out of their fire extinguishers! The Antichrist Superstar jumps at the cage and claws at it like a wild beast itching to escape from its confinement to kill an annoyance. He starts screaming abuse at all the stagehands whilst Sean Atlas is in the ring, bewildered at the actions of Crow.


“King! Crow has gone nuts! He’s insane, something or someone has possessed him!”


“Are we sure that the World Title belt is made of gold and not mercury, Axis?”


Crow is distracted by his creation being destroyed by stagehands and Atlas realises this, he quickly snaps out of his disbelief and approaches the ropes closest to Crow. Sean Atlas sets himself beside the ropes and tentatively clutches at the top rope with his hands... Crow eventually realises his peril, he realises that Sean Atlas isn’t stupid... the Antichrist Superstar quickly turns around!


... but is quickly flattened by an airborne Sean Atlas!


“Sean Atlas hits the pescado onto Crow! And there is now white crap all about ringside thanks to the stagehands!”


“Oh that poor carpet.”


“Will you forget about the carpet!?”


Sean Atlas eventually rises after a moment of rest and slides the Antichrist Superstar back into the ring. Atlas grabs a clump of Crow’s blackened locks, which are now rough and bloody, and lifts him up. He backs Crow into the ropes and rears his arm back...















“And Sean Atlas goes freakin’ nuts on Crow’s chest!”


“Ow... ow... ow! Sooo many chops, I think I’m starting to feel them! Noo.. no.. wait, that’s just heartburn... my bad,” humourously adds the Suicide King.



Welts are now appearing on Crow’s chiselled chest, the skin is pink and some of it is a sickly purple colour, obviously some blood vessels have burst. But Crow with the speed of a... bird... rears his arm back...






...and hits a knife edge chop of his own! Atlas though, quickly shuts down Crow’s comeback with a cheeky poke to the eye and some STIFF right hands to the jaw. The Antichrist Superstar is shut down, and Sean Atlas grasps his arm... Irish whip to the ropes! Sean drops down as Crow comes off, but Crow knows this basic wrestling move and steps over, avoiding the trip! He comes off the opposing ropes and ducks under a wild clothesline thrown by Atlas! Off the ropes flies the bird one more time and Atlas leap frogs up! But no!! Crow stops before Sean Atlas and thrown his leg up in the air...!


...kicking Atlas in the testicles!!


“That’s for earlier, bitch.”




“Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it, King!? Aha.”


Sean doubles over clutching at his crotch, but Crow doesn’t let him soothe the crown jewels for long as he launches his leg upwards and kicks Atlas in the jaw! Sean Atlas’ upper body jettisons straight up because of the blow... Crow sticks his arms forward and lines him up..... stiff kick to the back of the knee! Sean’s right leg buckles and he falls to one knee! Crow unleashes a barrage of stiff kicks to all parts of Atlas’ anatomy! Waist, arm, shoulder and finally a devastating blow to the side of the head! Atlas slumps backward onto the canvas and Crow jumps to the cover...




































Sean Atlas kicks out at two!


“Sean Atlas showed a lot of guts there, kicking out after having his whole body smacked with those Tajiri-like kicks from Crow.”


Crow is quick to the offence once again and picks Atlas up, then backs him into the nearest corner...






Another knife edge chop! But this unleashed upon Sean Atlas’ chest! Crow latches onto Sean’s arm and leans forward...


“There is a god... and his name is Crow.”


...Irish whip to the opposite corner! Atlas is thrown at a tremendous speed across the ring and he smacks face first into the turnbuckle! He stumbles out backwards.... But into the waiting arms of Crow! Waistlock applied... noooooo! Countered by Atlas into a waistlock of his own... and he throws Crow overhead with a German Suplex!




...NOOOOO! Crow reverses mid move, he shifts his weight forward and clutches at Sean’s leg... rolling him up in the cradle pin!


“What a counter!”




































“Sean Atlas kicks out again! Crow can’t put him down, Atlas just wants that title too much!”


Both men rise simultaneously, but Crow manages to grab the advantage by applying a tight front face lock on Sean.... He backs himself into the ropes and sits on the top rope. Crow twirls his finger in the air, signalling to the crowd that it’s time for another MURDEROUS DDT!


“Look out, King! If Crow’s hit another spinning DDT on Atlas, it should be over!”


Crow jumps off and swings around...


...but Atlas stands his place grounds Crow! The two men struggle around the ring, Crow jumps up in the air again... nooooooo! Sean Atlas throws Crow off! The Antichrist Superstar lands face first onto the canvas and actually bounces a good feet off the canvas! Sean Atlas runs over to the downed Crow and wraps his right arm around the bird’s neck... squeezing tightly, not allowing him any space to move his head. Using this position, Sean Atlas drags Crow back up to a standing base... Sean reaches under Crow’s left arm with his hand and places it behind Crow’s neck.... he’s got the Katahajime Choke locked in!


















“What the hell was that!?”


The Antichrist Superstar’s feet smack into the ropes on the way and he hits the canvas with a tremendous thud!


“WHAT A MOVE! Go for the cover, son! That move would put anyone out... except me, of course!” remarks King just before the count.


Sean Atlas quickly floats over for the cover!








































“The Antichristian Phenomenon got the foot on the ropes! Great ring presence by Crow!”


Crow is knocked stupid though, but is given some time to recover because Sean Atlas casually gets up and taunts the crowd... once again, he does the blasphemous. He brings his hand to his forehead... then to his left shoulder... then to his right shoulder... and finally to his belly button... motioning the inverted cross. Sean Atlas turns himself back to Crow, who is now stirring, and picks him up. Irish whip into the ropes, Crow comes off to see a doubled over Sean Atlas and then the ceiling, as he’s back body dropped over! But noooooo! Crow counters out and lands on his feet and turns around quickly! But Sean Atlas is coming off the ropes already! Sean jumps up and tries to hit a Lou Thesz Press but Crow catches him and holds his footing! Atlas tries to struggle out as Crow moves closer to the ropes, but it is no use!










“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” chants the crowd!


“WOW! SEAN ATLAS WAS JUST LAUNCHED OUT OF THE RING! I couldn’t see the landing from here, but I can imagine it must have been bad!”


“Sean will get back into it, he has shown he’s just as tough, if not tougher than guys like Dace Night and Crow!”


Sean Atlas hits the ground hard and the crowd cheers extremely loudly as Crow runs to the center of the ring and spreads his wings in the crucifix pose! The Antichrist Superstar takes a moment to absorb the cheers, he now has a copious amount of fans that love and support him, a change of scenery, if you well. Crow eventually turns his attention back to the outside where he suplexed Sean Atlas... but wait! Sean Atlas isn’t there! He’s gone! Crow runs across to all sides of the ring and checks to see if Sean’s there... but he’s not! Crow is confused as hell and climbs through the ropes to the outside... he runs away and looks out the slit made by the chainsaw earlier. But Sean Atlas is no where to be seen...


...Suddenly, sounds of steel against steel penetrate Crow’s eardrums and instantly he turns around to where the noise came from!














“Move!? That wasn’t a move, Axis! It’s called throwing fuckin’ steel steps at someone’s head!”


The Antichristian Phenomenon falls to the floor in a head, as more blood begins to pour out of the wounds in forehead and the rest of his body. He turns around... and somehow starts to crawl to the outside, even though the pain is just surging through his body. Sean Atlas smiles underneath his mask, in his sick world, pleasure is seeing his opponent in pain... he takes a moment to recover... he did just get suplexed out of ring and you don’t recover from that too quickly! Though still just a bit dazed, Atlas lifts up the curtain covering the underneath of the ring and starts scrummaging to find something to his liking.


“What’s he looking for, King? You seem to know this guy, what’s he gonna pull out here? Another chainsaw!?”


“Hopefully, then maybe we could see some dismemberment, baby!”




SEAN ATLAS BEGINS TO SLIDE OUT A TABLE! Even though they all hate Mr Atlas, the crowd lets out a cheer for the table and shouts...




Atlas picks it up over his head and takes it outside the structure (the hole made by the chainsaw in the ring was near the rampway, thus meaning there is space). He doesn’t set it up, but instead just leans it against the railing... Crow is still crawling along, trying to salvage some brain cells it seems. Atlas bullies Crow’s head around with his boot, just to tease him... afterwards, Atlas returns inside the cell and goes under the ring again...


...And pulls out a glass light tube!


“It’s time to get a little more hardcore, Axis! I’m gonna get on my feet for this... and if you had two legs, you’d get on yours too!”


Sean Atlas walks back out to the rampway, and starts taunting Crow and the crowd...


“Come on, Crow! Get up! *kick to stomach* GET UP!”


The glass light tube shines as it’s waved in the air.... Crow’s on all fours, crawling along... look! Sean Atlas lifts the glass light tube up!














“Excuse me, but I just have to say... holy shit... that was one of the most vile light tube shots I have ever seen... looks like Atlas has been studying Dace Night matches.”


The Antichristian Phenomenon’s back instantly starts to flow blood... so much blood has flown tonight, and only more can be expected. Atlas laughs as Crow cries out in agony and the crowd hurls abuse at him, in revels in the moment for a few seconds, but soon turns his attention to the table leaning against the railing. He picks up the table and starts to set it up... Crow is now trying to get back up, but the pain surging through his body slows him for the time being... and the table’s been set up! Sean doubles Crow up and pulls his head in between his legs with a standing headscissors... Sean places his hands together and prays, obviously as a mock and this causes the crowd to boo immensely. Atlas places his arms around Crow’s body and is about to gut wrench the Antichrist Superstar up onto his shoulders, but Crow’s body falls limp! Atlas looks down and throws some vicious forearms into Crow’s bleeding mess of a back! He tightens the headscissors and makes Crow stand properly........










Crow is now standing in front of Sean Atlas...






Atlas is sent stumbling back...


...But he charges at Crow and nails a spear! He pushes Crow into the side of the table and it topples over! The table isn’t broken... but Crow might be... Sean Atlas looks down at Crow and laughs...


“You are weak.”


As if set off by Atlas’ comments, Crow looks up with a scowl... his normally black eyes shine a shade of orange... much like a crow’s... and he begins to stand up! A sudden jolt of fear enters Atlas’ system as he sees the Antichrist Superstar rise with bad intentions... he’s possessed and Atlas doesn’t want to stick around to find out what these bad intentions are.






“SEAN ATLAS IS CLIMBING THE CELL! I’m not sure if that’s the best thing to do right now!”


“Pffffft! Axis, Sean Atlas knows what he’s doing... he’s going to lure Crow up there so he can throw him off the cell! I mean... duh!”


Crow grabs Atlas’ foot, trying to prevent him from climbing up the cage, but no! Atlas kicks loose and sends Crow stumbling back a bit! The Antichrist Superstar doesn’t climb straight up after Sean... instead, he hunches himself over the railing and gets two men off their chairs...


“Crow... you won’t be able to climb up there with two chairs.”


“I think he knows that, King.”


“Sure, he does, Axis. Sure he does...”


The Antichristian Phenomenon looks at Sean Atlas, who is now standing atop the rickety cell structure and motioning his hands in the “bring it” manner towards Crow. Crow responds...


...by hurling a chair up there, which just narrowly misses Sean Atlas! Sean Atlas launches onto his stomach to avoid the chair, but quickly gets back up to grab the chair. Crow grabs the remaining chair and starts to climb up the cell structure as well, meanwhile, on top of the cell, Atlas has returned to the edge with chair in hand and now watches Crow intently whilst smacking the chair against the poles on the edge. Crow is almost up to the top, but Atlas throws his chair down and tries to hit Crow! Crow manages to avoid it!


...But not the second time! Atlas swings the chair down and it smacks him in the back of the head! This causes the Antichrist Superstar to lose his grip and fall down to the floor... but he manages to land on his feet!


“Oh good god! Oooooh, Crow was lucky to land on his feet, that fall could have better so much nastier!”


He doesn’t maintain his balance though and slips over... he’s quickly back up though and begins to climb again! Surprisingly... this time Sean backs off and lets Crow climb up on to the top... he wants to finish Crow... he wants to push him off the top and win the match. Crow is now standing on top of the cage... and the two men approach each other.... A stare down ensues. The fans in the crowd goes ape shit just for the fact the two men are on top of the cell and thousands of cameras flash... the intensity in the air is frightfully thick and the slightest movement could break it.














































“I’m getting a headache just watching this, Axis!”


“I feel ya, King! I feel ya, this is brutal!”


Crow gets the final chair shot it and Sean Atlas can’t take it any more, and either can Crow really, but he’s just a little bit better than Atlas at the moment! Both men are stumbling... but Atlas is stumbling backwards............... and he’s near the edge of the cell! Crow realises his opportunity and runs at Atlas with his chair raised...






























“Come on, Sean! Get back up, get back up!”


The Antichrist Superstar runs over to the edge and starts chumming up Atlas’ left hand with the top of the chair...


...Atlas’ left hand loses grip and he’s holding on with one arm! But Crow steps on the other hands with his foot and grinds it sideways....


















“OH MY GOD!!!” shout both Axis and King.




The Antichrist Superstar looks down at what he just did... then lifts his head up... cocks it to the left... then to the right... then raises the chair in the air to a huge reception! He then begins to slowly climb down the cell and begins to work on Atlas some more... he picks up the slightly stirring form of Atlas and grinds his head across the mesh! Further scarring and scratching the mask present upon Sean’s head! Crow quickly then wretches the masked martyr up, and traps him arms under his arm pits...






The Antichristian Phenomenon runs back to the table and stands it on its legs... he then drags Sean Atlas on top of it, and hits a few punches to the throat for good measure. Afterwards, Crow looks up once again... and beings to climb the cell...


“Uh oh... I don’t like the looks of this, King! Crow is climbing back up to the top and Atlas is lying motionless on the table below!!”


“I hope to hell he’s not thinking what he’s thinking... and if he is... he’s insane, he’s fucking insane!”


“And he’s up the top now!”


Axis and King don’t lie! The Antichrist Superstar has ascended to the top of the cage and Sean Atlas is DEAD! DEAD on the table below! Crow is standing on the rickety cell... he looks down at Sean Atlas, and then cocks his head to all the sections of the crowd, absorbing the massive amounts of cheers being thrown forth. He turns around and positions himself on the edge of the cell...








































“THIS BITCH IS OVER, AXIS! Crow’s just got to get the cover! ... no wait, pinfalls can only occur in the ring! Crow has to get Atlas in the ring to pin him!”


“BUT THEY’RE BOTH DEAD, KING! DEAD! They’re both lying motionless on the cold, unforgiving concrete surface!”


The Antichrist Superstar and the Athiest Atlas lie in a heap of blood, sweat and pieces of table... a sign of moment from Crow... he crawls up into the foetal position, clasping at his knees and stomach. Wrenching agony pulsating through every muscle in his body! Every fibre! Atlas is just unmoving, he’s unconscious and lying as if death has come to him early... blood clumps his hair together on the floor, both men in this match are horribly hurt. Crow crawls over to the railing and extends his right arm into the crowd, asking for a helping hand from the young ladies in the crowd. They all jump at the opportunity to grasp Crow’s hand and help him back to his feet; he leans against the railing and suddenly, Crow remembers what the fuck he’s there for – to defend his title, and to beat Sean Atlas once and for all! The Antichrist Superstar, with a sudden burst of energy, charges at Sean Atlas, lifts, hoists and places him across his right shoulder! Crow with the win in his sights rushes through the opening in the cage and quickly slides the now twitching Sean Atlas into the ring.


“Crow’s going to win it, King! All he needs to do is pin Atlas and he’s got it won!”


The crowd cheer louder than ever before in the SJL’s known history, and cheer EVEN LOUDER as Crow rolls Atlas onto his shoulders and goes for the lateral press!
























































“SEAN ATLAS KICKED OUT!? HE KICKED OUT! How in hell did he kick out, King!? HOW!?”




“... shut up, King! Don’t dampen such a match with your shitty humour! This has been one of the most insane matches I have ever seen! The two men crave the world title belt so much, I’m not sure if either man will ever give up!”


The Antichrist Superstar jumps up in the air and pulls on his hair, Sean Atlas just kicked out after being fuckin’ unconscious! This man is so resilient! Sean Atlas shows life once again and tries to shake the cobwebs out of his head, but not for long as Crow quickly wretches him back to a standing base. He locks a front face lock on Atlas and grabs the tights...




























Crow can’t hold Atlas up and drops him forward... Atlas lands on his feet and catches Crow offguard... he hastily shoves his arms through Crow’s leg and puts his shoulder into it! WITH A HEAVE CROW IS UP AND ACROSS SEAN ATLAS’ SHOULDERS! ... HORIZONTALLY, PERFECTLY SET UP FOR THE SAINT’S DEMISE!




Crow tries to struggle out of it...
















































































“CROW KICKS OUT! CROW KICKS OUT OF THE SAINT’S DEMISE! I didn’t think it was possible for any wrestler to kick out of such a move, but Crow just did it! He did it!” Axis exclaims like a crazed Australian.


“I don’t know how! I don’t know what possessed Crow to kick out, but MY GOD! THIS IS A MATCH, AXIS!” adds the King of Hearts, who is so impressed with this match and with both competitors.


Remember how shocked Crow was when Atlas kicked out just before!? Multiply that by one hundred and you have how shocked Sean Atlas is right now, what can he do to beat Crow now!? He’s finisher didn’t do the job! Sean suddenly recalls Crow’s strategy from his title loss...


...and thus, Atlas hastily bends over and applies a front face lock on Crow, and drags him onto his feet! Crow has to somehow get to his feet, the front face lock crunching at his jaw and neck! Sean Atlas puts the arm over and grabs the tights..


“What’s he doing, Axis!?”


“It looks like he’s going for the Natural Born Chaos, taking a page out of Crow’s book of stealing opponent’s moves!”




















NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! CROW COUNTERS OUT OF THE MOVE! HE SNEAKS OUT OF THE MOVE AND LANDS BEHIND SEAN ATLAS! The Antichrist Superstar drops to the floor as fast as possible and pulls Atlas’ legs out from under him! Sean falls face first to the mat...!



















“The Antichrist Superstar has got Sean trapped in the middle of the ring, how long can Atlas withstand this agonising, absolutely agonising submission move!?”


“Come on, Sean! Get to the ropes, they’re not too far! Get your belt back, show Crow who really is BOSS!!!”


The agony on Sean Atlas can be seen even through the scratched, scarred leather mask! Sean Atlas cries forth screams of absolute torture as the Antichristian Phenomenon leans back even more on the sharpshooter, making the pressure oh so much more painful!




Sean Atlas tries to leverage out by pushing himself off the canvas with his strong arms!








Referee Ced Ordoñez gets up and close with Sean Atlas, constantly asking him if he wants to give up but amidst all the cries of pain, Ced can decipher one word.


“NO!! NOO!!”


Sean Atlas is getting slowly closer...




... he’s only three feet away from the ropes!




... two feet!






















Blood is dropping onto the floor from the bottom of Atlas’ mask! Blood seeps through the rips and scratches in the mask as Atlas cries out even more, constantly screaming NO! NO! NO I WON’T GIVE UP! But the cries of Sean Atlas slowly begin to die out and his wreathing body stops moving...


“Check him! Check him, dammit!” cries out the Antichrist Superstar.


Referee Ced Ordoñez lies down on the mat, face to face with Sean Atlas who is un-moving... Ced raises Atlas’ arm...



















Ced raises it again...




















Ced raises it once more...
























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Continued from above...


IT DROPS!!!!!!!!!!!!






“Sean Atlas passed out! He passed out from the pain, he couldn’t handle it anymore! Crow is the winner, and has retained his title!” exclaims Axis, who seems to have pissed his pants... again.


“WHAT!? SEAN ATLAS DIDN’T GIVE UP! HE DIDN’T GIVE UP!” angrily shouts the Suicide King.


“Sean Atlas’ didn’t give up in mind and spirit, but it was the fault of the flesh that defeated Sean Atlas...”


Crow drops Sean Atlas’ legs to the canvas and falls to the floor... fatigue has gotten to him, and hell he smokes, so those lungs and heart gotta be pounding the pain. Medical teams rush down to the ring to help the tired and broken wrestlers... they mainly concern with Sean Atlas, who is still unconscious in the ring.




The Antichrist Superstar is assisted to his feet by two female medical persons as the hard thrash metal beats of Soilwork’s Natural Born Chaos explodes through the speakers, one more time for the First Union Center! The timekeeper quickly rushes into the ring, with deck of cigarettes, lighter and world title belt, and gives them to Crow. Crow sticks a cigarette in his mouth, lights it up and sucks back on the glorious smoke... he lifts the belt into the air to a huge amount of cheer!


“Well, King. Words cannot describe how UNBELIEVABLE that match was, and in my mind, I think that it will definitely be a chance for match of the year.”


“Most definitely, Axis. Though, I’m not too happy with the winner of the bout, as I would have liked to have seen Sean Atlas go out on top, but Crow is a deserving champion... and both men, deserve trophies for that performance.”


“Fans, I’m afraid that’s the end of ton... hey, wait just a minute! Quick, cut back to the ring!”


In the ring, Sean Atlas is back up on his feet, supporting himself on two medical persons. Crow walks up to Sean Atlas and looks at him...


... and holds his deck of cigarettes out in front of Sean! Sean looks down at the pack of cigarettes... and then back up at Crow... he takes a cigarette! The crowd cheer loudly for this happening, and even more loudly as Crow lights the cigarette for Atlas.


“What a sign of respect from Crow, the two men may still hate each other’s guts... but after this match, they respect each other more than anyone else.”


The Antichrist Superstar turns around to run over to the turnbuckle, but is stopped by the hand of Sean Atlas.


“You shouldn’t smoke these... they’ll kill ya.”


Crow smirks and continues on his way whilst Sean Atlas exits the ring with the assistance of medical personnel. The Antichrist Superstar ascends to the top rope, and holds his title belt in the air...


Fade out to this shot.



Smartmarks Junior Leagues © 2003

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...you're fucked in the head if you think I'm recapping a rare JL PPV for you guys. Read it yerself! Great show up and down, minus the Kaine/Jenkins match. But oh well. I'm very proud of you guys.


LDP will have your Wrath card up momentarily, I hope.

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