SJL METAL -- May 13, 2003

[Guest Longdogger_Pete]

SJL Metal, May 13th!

Venue: Eh, why not? The Gund Arena, Cleveland, Ohio!

 

SINGLES MATCH

TV TITLE

TIM DILLON vs CHARLIE "GRAPPLER" MATTHEWS©

The Grappler is definitely worth his weight in gold, as can be evidenced by his repeated defenses of the Television Title. But what happens when you mix a drunken Irishman with an old school as hell guy? Let's find out.

Rules: Standard singles match.

 

EUROPEAN TITLE MATCH

THREE WAY DANCE

VIKTOR TARAKANOV vs LEO BRESLIN vs JOHN DURAN©

You can't keep a good man down, it seems. Not long after losing his TV title, John Duran has risen to the occasion, and claimed the European championship as his own. Of course, with a new title comes new (Sort of...) challanges, as he must immediately defend it versus the Red Rage, who was unable to defeat the man Duran beat for the title, and Leo Breslin, who is getting his first chance at the Euro.

Rules: DQ, countout and pinfall/submission rules are in effect. Elimination rules.

 

SINGLES MATCH

MANSON vs "CANADIAN THUNDER" CHRIS TREPANIER

A new face debutes in the SJL! Kind of! Young, technically sound, eager and experienced beyond his years, "Canadian Thunder" Chris Trepanier looks to make a splash in his SJL debut! Of course, he's going to have to do it versus Manson, who in coming off a sour loss for the world title, may take great pleasure in pounding some "new blood" into the mat.

Rules: Standard singles match.

 

MAIN EVENT

WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE

CHAIRSHOT MATCH

VA'AIGA vs CROW©

No rest for the wicked, as the Antichrist Superstar is beginning to find out. After winning the world title in a tultimous three-way, he defended it against Sean Atlas in a harrowing Hell in the Cell, Sean Atlas's last JL match. And just last show, he scraped by Manson to hold on to his title for another day. And now, with only one show away from the ring after winning the title, Crowe must look toward the Maori Badass, who is definitely eager to sink his teeth into Markus Cirillo... and his world title. With another match where blood is sure to be spilt, is the fatigue getting to him?

Rules: DQ, countout and pinfall/submission rules are in effect. HOWEVER, steel folding chairs are completely legal to use on your opponent. Any other international object is not.

[Guest Longdogger_Pete]

(The camera slowly revives itself back to life, revealing Ben Hardy sitting in a director chair looking on at another similar chair and a table with an unidentifiable can of something with a glass next to it).

 

“Welcome back loyal SJL fans, I have been assigned, and somewhat privileged, to talk to the one and only Tim Dillon before he heads into his TV title match where he challenges Charlie Matthews.” Hardy nods which signals Tim Dillon to step into the chair.

 

Dillon gives a brief nod to the camera as he sinks and slouches into the chair. He wears his usual anti-war within Ireland shirt that begs to end the fighting, the shamrock painted cargoes, and Emerica skate shoes with shamrock patches above each toe. He pops open the can, which turns out to be a Guinness beer as he pours it into the glass. He stops, allows the foam die and then looks up at Hardy. He continually glances back at the Guinness, which finally turns the black color and he picks up the glass and sips at it.

 

“So, welcome back to the SJL. How are things?”

 

Dillon smacks his lips, “Great, actually.”

 

Hardy grins, amused by Tim, “So what’s it like being back and coming off of a loss?”

 

“The energy in the fans is so great, it makes staying in this business worth it. Leo was the better lad, better wrestler, no shame in yer’ losing to a better fella’.”

 

Hardy nods in agreement, “So what are your plans for tonight?”

 

Dillon takes a long chug, “To win.”

 

Hardy snickers and goes, “I meant tactics, how will you win?”

 

Dillon’s face lights up and he shoots the camera a dazzling white grin, “Ah, I just made an arse of myself. Well he’s a better wrestler. He’s a better champion… but he’s not a better brawler. Most importantly, he’s not Irish!”

 

Dillon’s answer just baffles Ben. “What about long term plans?”

 

Tim picks up the glass, rotating the glass and making the beverage sway. “To do what I love, fight, have fun, might win some moo-nee, get the gold, and maybe get bumped. Hell, I don’t know half the people here everyone’s already found their way to the WF.

 

“Well, what’s it like to have to fight for the television title when right before you left you were more than a contender for the European?”

 

“Does it really matter? Times change and I just need to get back on the ball, simple as tat.”

 

Hardy nods, “Very true. Well, I guess I hope you enjoy your run and good luck.”

 

Dillon basically shots down whatever was left of the beer, “Tanks. I’ll be needin’ it.”

 

-The classic, the legendary, the famous… STARWIPE! -

[Guest Longdogger_Pete]

BOOM~!

 

The last array of pyrotechnics finishes and we are LIVE in the sold-out Gund Arena in Cleveland, Ohio for the one and only SJL METAL! Almost twenty-thousand fans stand and cheer wildly while holding signs, including “Where is everyone?” “Edwin = God” and “The Golden Crow”. Finally, we head to the announce desk to see Suicide King, and his colleague, Axis.

 

Axis: What an explosive night it’s going to be here on SJL Metal tonight. Crow and Va’aiga are going to collide in a Chairshot Match for the SJL World Championship, there’s triple threat match for John Duran’s newly won European Championship, and the match we’re going to see in a few moments for the SJL Television Championship.

 

King: Of course, this would be involving the one and only Charlie “Grappler” Matthews: A cult phenomenon in the SJL. Of course, I’ve been supporting him since day one, and the scattered people cheering for him now jumped on the bandwagon, but that’s beside the point.

 

Axis: King, you’re forgetting the challenger, and how could you. The “Insane Luchador” Tim Dillon made a hell of a return last week on Crimson, in a valiant effort against Leo Breslin. He’s a small guy with a hell of a heart, and shouldn’t be counted out in any situation until a three count is made. This guy has proven time and time again that he has what it takes to steal a victory.

 

King: Bah. You forgot to mention that after two fantastic title defenses; Charlie Matthews is a damn good Television Champion. I don’t expect him to lose the title for a long time to come.

 

Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, this opening contest of SJL Metal is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the S – J – L TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP!”

 

“Barroom Hero” by the Dropkick Murphys fires up and the crowd jumps to their feet cheering for the Irishman, as shamrock confetti falls from the heavens. Finally, huge blasts of green and gold pyro shoot through the Gund Arena as Tim Dillon enters through the curtain and stands on the stage.

 

“Introducing first, the challenger! Making his way to the ring, from Limerick, Ireland, he weighs in at 190 pounds, this is TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM DIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLON!!!”

 

Dillon continues his walk to the ring, slapping the hands of fans as he slides into the ring.

 

The music abruptly stops as a screechy voice is heard from a different microphone:

 

“LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!!!”

 

The crowd immediately breaks into thunderous boos knowing it’s James Matheson, as he continues the personalized introduction for his meal ticket, once he steps out of the curtain adorned in a seizure-inducing bright yellow suit.

 

“…Accompanied by the fantastic JAAAMES MATHESON, he hails from the great Kansas City, Missouri, and weighs in at a hair under 300 pounds, ladies and gentlemen, he is YOUR SJL Television Champion and the greatest pure wrestler EVER, CHAAAAAAAAAAAARLIE “GRAPPLER” MAAAAAAAAATTHEWS!!!!!!!!!”

 

The boos get louder as out from the curtain emerges the monstrous Grappler, Charlie Matthews, with the TV Championship belt snugly around his waist. He slowly walks to the ring side-by-side with his manager, staring a hole in his challenger as he plods up the ring steps and steps between the ropes. Without hesitation, he removes the belt from his waist and hands it to referee Nick Soapdish, who raises it above his head and signals for the bell to begin the match.

 

*DING DING DING*

 

Axis: This should be a very interesting match. While Grappler has an insane amount of endurance, it’s debatable that Tim Dillon may have even MORE.

 

King: Yeah, well, we’ll see. While their endurance may be nearly matched, I think Grappler has the edge because of his raw power and technical expertise.

 

The two men slowly circle each other, and thinking the same thing, they lunge forward and lock arms, in a collar-elbow tie up. Because of the strength advantage, Matthews is able to twist Dillon’s right arm behind his back, in a hammerlock. Tim tries to go behind Grappler and break the hold, but is unable to, so he instead puts his arm under the chin of the champion, and using his leg strength, leaps upward, flipping himself over the Charlie, all the way behind him. Before Grappler realizes what happened, Dillon leaps into the air and sends his feet right into the upper back area of Matthews, causing him to stagger into the ropes for support.

 

Axis: And give the early advantage to Tim Dillon for his speed! What a dropkick!

 

King: Why does he have the early advantage? Matthews isn’t even off of his feet yet.

 

Dillon, realizing this, quickly returns to his feet, meeting Matthews in the middle of the ring. Before Charlie can wind up with a haymaker punch, Tim catches him with a low kick to the kneecap, which causes the gladiator to double over. Dillon then runs to the opposite ropes, and as he approaches the back of Matthews, leaves the ground, but stays low, sending a dropkick right into the legs of the champion, bringing him down to the mat, causing the fans to roar with approval!

 

Tim Dillon runs to the ropes and baseball slides under them, catching the ropes, so he remains on the apron. He then springboards to the top rope, and launches off, soaring through the air and bringing his extended-right leg down across the throat of Charlie Matthews!

 

Axis: Springboard Leg Drop! Springboard Leg Drop! And here’s the early cover!

 

Soapdish drops into position to count the pinfall:

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

TWOOO-KICKOUT!

 

Matthews uses the ropes to hurry to his feet, but is immediately met by Dillon, who interlocks arms with Charlie and flips him all the way over to the mat with an armdrag, and then wraps his right arm around the left arm of the fallen Grappler, pulling back in an elementary armbar. Matthews tries to break the hold, and succeeds by using his free hand to pull on the nearby ropes, bringing him and Dillon to their feet, although Dillon still has some of the armbar applied. However, using his free arm, Charlie grabs the arm of Dillon and ducks down, sending Tim flipping over his massive shoulder to the mat. With Tim on his back, Matthews drops down to the canvas and rolls Dillon onto his side, before wrapping his massive 22-inch arms around his midsection in a crushing waistlock.

 

King: Who’s got the advantage now? See, if Dillon didn’t blow his load so early in the match, this probably wouldn’t have happened.

 

Axis: You know quite a few things about that, don’t you?

 

King: Me? Ha. Try talking to that Tarakanov guy…or the Cleveland Indians.

 

Axis: Ouch. Meanwhile, Grappler really is making use of that simple waistlock…just like he did in his defense against Blazenwing on Crimson.

 

The crowd, meanwhile, breaks into a “Let’s Go Dillon! (clap clap clapclapclap)” chant, which fuels Dillon and allows him to roll onto his stomach, and rise to his feet, albeit with Matthews right on him. Dillon tries to break the stronghold by forcing his elbow into the stomach of Grappler three times, but instead of freeing him, it allows Matthews to let go of the waistlock and quickly duck under Dillon’s arm, grabbing his tights and lifting him up into the air backwards, before pointing his head diagonally at the mat and dropping back.

 

Axis: Ooooh! NASTY backdrop suplex there by Charlie Matthews, and you would think that he’d go for a pin cover here.

 

King: No Axis, Grappler isn’t like that. He’s extremely precise. He wants to make sure that when he goes for a pin, it’s almost a guaranteed three count.

 

Grappler proceeds to sit Tim Dillon up, and then wrap his mighty arm around the throat of the challenger, cutting off some of his oxygen supply. Matthews then falls backwards, keeping the hold wrenched in.

 

Axis: Almost a rear naked choke here, referee Nick Soapdish will have to keep a close eye on this to make sure it isn’t a real choke hold.

 

King: Oh, who cares? It’s time he takes the spunk out of Tim Dillon.

 

Charlie Matthews continues to keep Dillon grounded, and the crowd quickly grows restless, even going as far as to chant “Grapp – ler – Sucks!” a chant that has never echoed through an arena before. As expected, James Matheson shields his virgin ears, and continues to cheer for his meal ticket.

 

King: Oh, what do these fans know? If he sucks, why is he the Television Champion?

 

Axis: Because he cheated to win the title?

 

King: I didn’t ask you!

 

However, Dillon is finally able to turn to his side, and slowly crawls, in spite of the pull of Grappler…and grabs the bottom rope. Matthews is forced to break the hold, and he does, and actually allows Tim Dillon to get to his feet. Once he does, though, Grappler is right back on him, grabbing his arm and pushing him off into the ropes. As Dillon comes bounding back off the opposite side of the ring, Matthews extends his arm and swings with a clothesline, but Dillon ducks, runs and bounces off of the other ropes, and comes back, bringing his shoulder down and catching the prone Grappler right in the ribs with a GORE! Once he tackles Matthews to the mat, Dillon unleashes a fast series of extremely stiff punches right to the head and face area of the TV Champion.

 

Axis: Perfect timing by Tim Dillon with that Gore! And those punches…you can’t get much harder than that.

 

King: Hey, back in my prime, I could’ve knocked ANYONE out. Don’t give him any more credit than he deserves; and trust me, he doesn’t deserve much.

 

Dillon stands up out of his mounted position and waits for Grappler to reach his feet. Once he stands, Tim unleashes, with rapid-fire punches, thrown like Joe Frazier, to the face of Grappler. Matthews tries to cover up his face from the flurry, so Dillon immediately lowers his aim, peppering the midsection of the champion. He follows this up with two hard kicks to the kneecap, and after all of this, Charlie has a dazed look in his eye, so Dillon busts out a quick Irish jig, much to the delight of the fans, before lunging forward and nearly taking Matthews’ head off with a clothesline!

 

Axis: The Irish Fury~! What a rush of adrenaline by Tim Dillon, and he’s starting to take over!

 

King: Why the hell hasn’t the ref disqualified him yet? Did he see all those closed-fist punches to the face? That’s damn illegal!

 

Quickly, Tim Dillon grabs Grappler by the hair and brings him up to his feet. He then wraps him in a front facelock and grabs a handful of his tights, before sending the big man up into the air and crashing down to the canvas with a vertical suplex. Dillon then goes to the other side of his opponent, and grabs his legs, lifting them up. He lands a stomp square in the chest of the champion, before flipping over Grappler’s body while holding the legs, into a pinning bridge as Nick Soapdish goes down to count!

 

ONE~!!!!

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

 

 

KICKOUT!!

 

Matthews quickly rolls out of the predicament and tries to beg off of Dillon, but Tim will have none of it as he continues to advance towards the Champion. Seeing no other resort, Grappler slides out of the ring to the floor, where he consults with James Matheson, who is sweating bullets.

 

Axis: Can you believe that? He’s the Television Champion, and he has to beg off of his challenger, and escape the confines of the squared circle.

 

King: Oh, it’s all strategy. He’s just trying to get into the head of Dillon, make him think he’s going to win, and then BAM! He’ll catch him with a high-impact move and it’ll be over.

 

Frustrated, Dillon, with some egging on from the crowd, looks to soar onto Grappler. He runs off of the opposite ropes, and once he reaches the side where Grappler is recovering, he LEAPS into the air, over the ropes, with a huge PESCADO on Grappler…

 

…but Grappler catches Dillon in mid-air!! Holding Tim in almost a bearhug-like position, Matthews runs Dillon back-first right into the steel ring post, before rolling him back into the ring for easy pickings.

 

King: See Axis? I told you…all strategy. Now he can focus on the back and neck of Dillon. It wasn’t begging off…it was being a smart wrestler.

 

Grappler brings Tim Dillon to his feet, and then wraps his right arm around the side of the challenger, lifts him into the air perpendicularly, and then drops him across his knee in a hard backbreaker. When Dillon flops to the mat, Matthews brings him into a sitting position and pulls the arms of the challenger behind his back, and drives his knee right into the upper back/lower neck area, in almost a surfboard submission hold.

 

Axis: Well, I have to admit; Charlie Matthews has a fine game plan for this match, using submission holds to both wear down Tim Dillon, and keep him grounded to avoid his stiff brawling skills and high-flying maneuvers.

 

King: And it took you this long to figure that out? And I thought the Clippers sucked at what they do.

 

Axis: Quit it.

 

Grappler continues to keep Dillon grounded, with his knee exerting a painful amount of force onto the spinal cord. However, with the help of clapping and stomping by the fans in the sold-out Gund Arena, Tim is able to start turning around, loosening the pressure and force of Matthews. Finally, Dillon is able to get to a knee, and then to his feet and turn around completely. He’s then able to grab the left arm of Grappler, and twist it around into a hammerlock. He then quickly wraps his right arm around the throat of Matthews, and quickly drops backwards, sending his head crashing to the mat.

 

Axis: FINN’S FALL~! FINN’S FALL~! Tim Dillon once again starts a come back!

 

King: He can only keep getting these boosts of adrenaline for so long…his glands are going to run out soon.

 

Instead of going for a cover, Dillon goes to the corner and climbs to the top turnbuckle. He waits for Matthews to return to a standing position, and when he does, Tim leaps off with what looks to be a clothesline…but Grappler catches him, and interlocks his arms around the back of Dillon!

 

Crowd: Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!

 

Axis: They know what’s coming and quite frankly, I agree with them.

 

King: IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT’S BEARHUG TIME~!

 

Grappler drops to a knee, squeezing the skinny frame of Tim Dillon with all of his might, hoping to crush him like a bug. The crowd breaks out into the obligatory “BORING!” chant as James Matheson shields his ears and Charlie makes angry, scary faces in hopes to make these fans appreciate wrestling.

 

Axis: He almost looks constipated with those faces.

 

King: Oh, shut up. He’s trying to destroy the vertebrae of Tim Dillon, and you know what? I hope he does. Maybe that’ll smarten the fans up about moves like the bearhug. They are *NOT* boring!!

 

As much of a fighter as Tim Dillon is, he slowly starts to fade due to the force exerted on his back and spine, and in something never seen by the Grappler, he picks up Dillon into the air, and begins to violently shake the challenger back and forth like a rag doll as the fans show their disapproval. He does this five times before settling back down to the normal bearhug position as the crowd continues to show their boredom.

 

Axis: Alright, that just WASN’T necessary. It’s bad enough he has the bearhug in, but taunting a man like that isn’t worth it.

 

King: Why not? He was just showing Dillon, you, these stupid Ohio-ans, and everyone backstage that he OWNS you when he has that bearhug locked in. There is NO escape. Well…unless you cheat or something, most likely.

 

Soon after, Tim Dillon’s body goes completely limp, and Nick Soapdish has nothing left to do but check for the submission. He takes Dillon’s arm, and…

 

THE ARM DROPS ONCE~!!

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE ARM DROPS THRICE~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

Axis: NO!! Wait!! Dillon’s arm didn’t fall the third time! He’s still in this match! The heart of a warrior…or an Irishman! Same thing!

 

Dillon begins to unleash some of his trademark punches right to the skull of Matthews, nearly bloodying him in the process. However, as Grappler refuses to let go of his death grip, Tim sees only one alternative: he extends his arms out to his sides, before bringing them closing in, boxing the ears of Charlie Matthews!

 

Axis: Ha-ha! That never gets old!

 

Of all things, this actually causes Grappler to loosen his grip on the bearhug, as he becomes wobbly, his cerebellum most likely shook-up. With Matthews’ arms loose across the back, Dillon is able to slip under his arms, out of the bearhug.

 

King: What a cheap tactic to escape the bearhug. Why can’t he do things the honorable way?

 

Axis: Did YOU ever do that?

 

King: …

 

Dillon runs to the ropes, with less speed than before because of the pain his back and neck have taken, and once he comes back to a confused Grappler, he leaps into the air and lands in a sitting position on Matthews’ shoulders. He then arches backwards, flipping Charlie all the way over in a hurracanrana as the crowd explodes! Once Matthews’ head spikes the canvas, Tim stays in the mounted position he’s in and reaches back to grab the legs of Grappler, holding them down in a pinning predicament!

 

Axis: This one is going to be over!!

 

ONE~!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEE~!!

 

 

 

 

 

NO!! 2.999999999!!! Matthews BARELY gets the shoulder up as James Matheson breathes a mighty sigh of relief at ringside. Dillon, sensing victory, brings Grappler to his feet and wraps his right arm around the throat of Charlie, in preparation for the Blood and Whiskey.

 

Axis: This is going to be it, King! Dillon has come this close to unseating the champion a few times tonight, but with the Blood and Whiskey, you can wrap this one up!

 

King: It hasn’t HAPPENED yet, has it? I’m not panicking…no really, I’m not.

 

Tim Dillon grabs a handful of Grappler’s tights and prepares to initiate his finisher, but quick as lightning, Matthews twists out of the hold, gives Dillon a hard kick to the gut, and puts his head between his legs, before raising his arms in the air for a brief moment.

 

King: IT’S TIME!!! IT’S TIME!!! IT’S POWERBOMB TIME~!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Axis: Out of nowhere with that reversal! My goodness!

 

Grappler then locks his hands around the midsection of Dillon, and lifts him up into the air, bringing him into a sitting position on his shoulders before throwing him all the way down to the mat in the POWERBOMB~!!!! Grappler nonchalantly hooks a leg as Nick Soapdish comes down to count the academic pin…

 

ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

*DING DING DING*

 

 

 

Axis: No!! Wait!! The referee is signaling that count off! DILLON JUST KICKED OUT OF THE POWERBOMB AT THE VERY LAST MILLISECOND!!

 

King: Well damn that timekeeper and his itchy trigger finger for getting me all excited!

 

Axis: So that’s *NOT* your knee poking my leg?

 

King: Oh shut the hell up.

 

Axis: Both Charlie Matthews and James Matheson are in absolute SHOCK over the fact that Tim Dillon kicked out of the patented Powerbomb! But like we said at the beginning of the match, Tim Dillon may have been the man with more vitality than Charlie Matthews, and I think he PROVED it right there!

 

King: That…that HAS to be a fluke. The referee must’ve been seeing things.

 

Frustrated beyond belief, Grappler forces Tim Dillon to his feet, and lifts him up by his legs, setting him on the top turnbuckle. Matthews follows him up to the top rope, and stands Dillon up, as both men teeter on the third turnbuckle. Grappler proceeds to wrap his arm around the head of Dillon in a front facelock, and he grabs a handful of the tights as well.

 

Axis: What in the hell is he going for?

 

King: Oh, you just wait and see. James Matheson told me earlier today to watch out for this move…

 

Matthews then pulls the tights and lifts Dillon HIGH into the air and falls backwards, completing a SUPERPLEX! Without skipping a beat, Charlie then rolls backwards with the facelock still applied, and facing Dillon, pulls him upward into a sitting front facelock! He keeps this wrenched in for about ten seconds, before twisting over to his back, spiking Dillon’s head to the mat in a DDT! He then wraps his legs around Tim in a body scissors with the facelock wrenched in even tighter, in a Guillotine Choke!

 

King: That’s it! That’s his brand new move, the Re-Education!!

 

Axis: What a combination maneuver by Charlie Matthews!! Will Tim Dillon survive?

 

King: What do you think? Of COURSE he’s going to TAP OUT!

 

Tim Dillon struggles with all of his might to escape the body scissors vice and the front facelock choke, as the fans burst into a “Dillon!” chant. Tim slowly looks to fade away…

 

Axis: This doesn’t look good for Dillon, and it doesn’t look like he wants to quit.

 

King: Oh, he just needs to tap out already. All he’s doing now is wasting time.

 

The clapping and stomping from the capacity crowd in the Gund Arena reaches a fevered pitch, and muffled screams from Tim Dillon can be heard, until…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TAP TAP TAP

 

*DING DING DING*

 

King: And folks, *THAT* is all she wrote, and another successful title defense by Charlie Matthews.

 

Axis: Wow, what an extremely strong effort by Tim Dillon. There were occasions where I felt he was DESTINED to become the TV Champion.

 

King: Well, he DIDN’T, and that’s all that matters.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner as a result of a submission, and STILL SJL Television Champion, Charlie ‘Grappler’ Matthews.”

 

Matthews releases the hold and slides under the ring, giving James Matheson a big hug as he hoists his Television Championship high into the air. Dillon, disappointed in himself, rises to his feet on his own accord to an ovation from the fans.

 

Axis: What a match that was. Up next, John Duran’s newly won European Championship is up for grabs in a triple threat match!

[Guest Longdogger_Pete]

Axis: This next match is gonna be interesting. We’ve got John Duran, Leo Breslin, and Viktor Tarakanov facing off at the same time for Duran’s European title. From what we’ve seen, all three of these men have a tremendous talent and are damned determined to go for that gold tonight.

 

King: Well, I’m not quite as sold on this match, as you are, Axis. One thing is for sure, that freakin’ Breslin is going to be taken out first. Guarantee it.

 

Axis: King, even for you that’s a pretty steep bet. Leo Breslin is one hell of a competitor, just last week he took out the returning Tim Dillon. He’s earned his shot at the Euro.

 

King: You just don’t get it, Axis. Look at the size difference between Breslin and his opposition. He’s five foot eleven and he’s facing two guys who are inching up on seven foot. Are you gonna sit there and tell me that Breslin even has a chance to take out either of these two incredible contenders?

 

Axis: Yes I am, King! This young man has something that neither of these men has, and that’s the support of the fans. No matter how big of an obstacle you’re facing, sometimes the reaction of the crowd can help you get around it. He is all kinds of resilient.

 

King: Oh, brother... Funyon, let’s get this match over as quickly as possible!

 

Already in the ring, the mighty Funyon raises the microphone to his face and lets his golden voice echo throughout the Gund Arena. “Ladies and gentlemen! This match, being conducted under elimination rules, is scheduled for one fall and is for the Smarks Junior League European Championship! Introducing first... he weighs in at two hundred and thirty pounds... from... CLEVELAND, OHIO!! *huge pop for the hometown boy* LEOOOO BREEEESLIIIIN!!”

 

The crowd EXPLODES as “All My Life” by the Foo Fighters hits the speakers and the lights drop to darkness. Small flames spark up on the stage, almost in beat to the music, as the crowd’s reaction nearly overpowers the music. Finally the music lets loose and Leo Breslin steps out from the back, causing the roar of the crowd to come to a head for their hometown hero. He begins to walk down the ramp, the ferocity of the fans’ rejoicing giving him an intense focus. The spotlight illuminating Breslin on his walk to the ring catches some beads of sweat rolling down his body as he reaches the ring.

 

Axis: Will you LISTEN to that reaction from the crowd? The fans always seem to get into Breslin’s wrestling but being in his hometown may give him that extra edge I was talking about earlier, King.

 

King: Poppycock! It’s just gonna make him nervous and then he’ll slip and make a mistake. The moment you start doing things for other people is the moment things start to go wrong.

 

Axis: Well that remains to be seen, King. At least let the kid get in the ring before you make a decision.

 

The Ohioan slides into the ring under the bottom rope and cant help but play to the crowd at least a little as he throws his arms up into the air as he leaps in the air. The flames on the stage shoot up high as both the crowd and the pyro on the ring posts explode in response to the high energy of the wrestler in the ring. The house lights come back on as the smoke above the ring begins to dissipate. The crowd reluctantly dies down as they await the other two, significantly less popular wrestlers.

 

“And his opponent...” Funyon pipes up again “Weighing in at two hundred and eighty pounds... hailing from Astrakhan, Russia... he is ‘The Red Rage’ Viktor TARAKAAANOOOV!!”

 

 

*KABOOM*

 

 

A large red pyro and the opening chord of the “Soviet National Anthem” rocks the arena. The fans immediately start to boo before the wrestler even comes out into view. As the Red Army Choir sings the lyrics to the song, the terrible Tarakanov steps through the curtain and is immediately struck by the hatred of the strongly patriotic crowd. The big Russian walks down the ramp, trying strongly to ignore the boos of the crowd. Approaching the bottom of the ramp, some fans start to chant “U.S.A.!! U.S.A.!!”. The Soviet is visibly shaken, but grits his teeth and bares the chant.

 

Axis: These fans don’t mess around! They know damn well what will get to Tarakanov.

 

King: I can’t believe these fans would stoop so low. Low enough to chant for the very thing Viktor stands against.

 

Axis: Are you a Communist sympathizer then, King?

 

King: ME?! God no! I’ve always believed in the effectiveness of a monarchy. You know... a government ruled by a King.

 

Axis: You and your puns...

 

The chant grows. His head down, trying to keep his mind on his match and the European title, Viktor walks up the steps and wipes his feet off before looking up into the ring and seeing Breslin waving his arm, leading the chant on, egging the fans to scream the name of their country louder. Tarakanov’s face becomes as red as the flag he follows and quickly steps through the ropes and right to Breslin, getting uncomfortably in his face. The referee quickly steps in before the two men duke it out before the match officially starts. As the crowd quiets down, the two men walk to their respective corners, their eyes never leaving their opponent.

 

“And the champion! He weighs in at two hundred and sixty five pounds... hailing from Champaign, Illinois... he is the Smarks Junior League European Champion... John DUUURAAAN!!”

 

“Sinner” by Drowning Pool starts up as the crowd begins to boo the unpopular champion. As his music continues, Duran himself steps out, his belt flung over his shoulder, shimmering in the lights of the arena. The champion glares into the heart of every single person in attendance, with a visible coldness that chills them to the bone. The crowd boos the indifferent man as he makes his way down to the ring, glaring at both of his opponents, trying to figure them out.

 

Axis: What is it about John Duran that just makes people hate him?

 

King: I’ll tell you why! All of these fans are just jealous that that man has so much athletic ability that it only took him eight freakin’ months to get to where they only wish they could get after a lifetime of work.

 

Axis: Duran is a great specimen, I'll give him that and he’s got a good reason to be in the federation. But the way he treats the fans would piss anyone off. He blames them for the death of his best friend, Randy Turner who took some time off from the JL to go and sharpen his skills, and died working out in Mexico.

 

King: Well, that could have been the water that did him in.

 

Some close by fans taunt Duran and prompt him to approach the fans and hold up his belt, pointing to it. Indicating to the crowd that he earned the belt, and is now reaping the benefits that it carries with it. The fans boo him louder as he turns away and approaches the ring, sliding under the bottom rope. In the middle of the ring, he stands and raises up his title belt high in the air for all the fans to see. Proud of his achievement, he turns so that every fan might catch a glimpse of what he worked so hard for.

 

He turns with a sort of calloused pride in his face as the fans boo the bragging champion. Unfortunately for Duran, his showboating costs him. As he turns towards Viktor Tarakanov, the Russian charges forward and spears the European champion off his feet, allowing the belt to fall to the mat.

 

 

DING!! DING!! DING!!

 

 

Viktor decides to wear down his seemingly more threatening opponent first and begins to pound in the face of John Duran. Not wanting to be on the receiving end of Viktor’s fists, Duran rolls himself and Tarakanov over and begins to give him a taste of his own medicine.

 

The crowd is more or less silent for the two wrestlers who care little for them. Now, not wanting to be left out of the action, Leo Breslin decides to get him some and approaches the two battling superstars. Leo grabs the European champ by the hair, and yanks his opponent’s attention backwards. Duran quickly stands with an angered look on his face to see what disturbed him. He looks down at Breslin who doesn’t seem intimidated in the least by the man almost a foot taller than him. The two stand and look at each other; Breslin to see if his opponent makes the first move, and Duran to see if Breslin actually intends to fight him.

 

Axis: That’s incredible! Leo Breslin is showing absolutely NO sign of fear against the big man in front of him. That takes some severe confidence!

 

King: Or a fifth of Jack. He’s got to be intimidated by Duran, he’s the European Champion for crying out loud! Unless he’s drunk, I doubt he feels so confident about this match.

 

Duran even manages to smirk, a sight not usually seen. Blowing his opponent off as a non-threat, the confident Duran pushes Leo backwards by his forehead and turns around chuckling to himself. The fans pop loudly as Breslin rushes back to John and grabs his arm and brings it back into a hammerlock, immediately lifting up and slamming Duran to the side with a hammerlock suplex. The fans rejoice as both men surprisingly writhe in pain. Breslin must not have expected Duran to be so heavy, as he over-estimated his strength and put too little effort into the suplex.

 

As Breslin stands, he holds his shoulder in pain, making his weakness obvious. Not a good thing to do when one of your opponents is Viktor Tarakanov. “The Red Rage”, who rolled out of the ring temporarily as his opponent’s battled, sees Breslin favoring his shoulder and hops back into the ring with a grin on his face. Breslin sees Viktor approaching him slowly and immediately charges him, but Tarakanov sees his much smaller opponent coming from a mile away. Breslin attempts a charging forearm but Vik ducks the arm and wraps his arm in front of Leo’s, forming a sort of hook around his opponent’s body. Sticking his leg behind Breslin’s, Viktor pushes himself forward and allows Leo’s own momentum to take him to the ground.

 

Axis: It looks like Breslin definitely injured his shoulder trying to suplex Duran. Tarakanov took advantage of that and used some of his Sambo training to slam Leo to the mat.

 

King: Well what do you expect? He was practically crying about his shoulder in the middle of the ring! Breslin’s lucky that’s all that Vik did to him!

 

Axis: I don’t think Tarakanov’s finished, King.

 

Indeed Viktor has more work to do as he immediately rolls over his opponent and places Breslin’s injured arm in between his own lower legs and then rolls over, pressing his knee against Leo’s wounded right shoulder. Leaning over and applying all of his two hundred and eighty pounds on the sore shoulder, Tarakanov grabs Breslin by the hair and punches him repeatedly in the face, prompting boos from the crowd. Not allowed to maintain his effective position for long, a now extremely pissed off John Duran charges Viktor and knocks him off Leo Breslin.

 

Tarakanov springs to his feet and stomps towards John Duran with an angry look in his eyes. The two large men get chest to chest and yell at each other back and forth, occasionally pointing down at Breslin, who lies holding his face and shoulder. Finally, Viktor shoves Duran back. Duran looks down and to the side for a moment, taking in what has transpired, and then answers back with a shove of his own. Viktor stumbles back and trips over the semi-fallen Leo Breslin. Not quite out of it, Breslin is aware enough to catch Tarakanov with a roll-up. The referee suddenly sees the pin and makes the count.

 

 

~1~

 

.

 

.

 

~2~

 

.

 

The big Russian kicks out with authority!

 

Axis: Near fall by Leo Breslin. This kid is giving us one hell of a show, even with his less than good odds.

 

King: Now what do you mean, “less than good odds”? His odds are fine! Sure he may be just an average size guy, but he’s also facing two guys who have had less than friendly pasts. Breslin has a perfectly fair shot at winning that Euro gold here.

 

Axis: Well, if you look at it in that light, I suppose he does have a fairly good chance.

 

King: I’m glad we’ve come to an agreement.

 

Duran, still perturbed at Breslin for suplexing him, pulls Leo to his feet and whips him into the ropes. The hometown boy bounces off the ropes and catches Breslin with a running shoulder block, sending him slamming to the mat with a loud thud. The crowd boos Duran for taking down their favorite wrestler and he offhandedly responds by flipping them off. They boo even louder now as John picks up Breslin and again whips him into the ropes, cockily displaying his strength and control in the ring.

 

As Leo bounces off, Duran decides to toy with his upstart of an opponent and drops to his belly on the mat. Breslin instantly recognizes what Duran has in mind and decides to beat him at his own game and jumps over Duran’s flat body, preparing to bounce off the other ropes. Tarakanov has no time for such antics, though, as he simply floors the much smaller wrestler to the mat with a vicious lariat. Duran does not hear Breslin’s footsteps but gets to his feet to see what happened. Without warning, as he turns around, Duran is nailed by a lariat from the big arm of “The Red Rage”.

 

Axis: Two HUGE clotheslines from Viktor Tarakanov! Both of his opponents are now wondering what the license plate number was on the truck that hit ‘em!

 

King: Well at least that cliché isn’t very overused. At least you didn’t mention a train wreck or two seven forty sevens colliding.

 

Instantly, Viktor drops to the mat and attempts to pin Leo Breslin but the referee informs Viktor that he has his foot on the bottom rope and is therefore not legal to pin. Frustrated, he turns to where John Duran is laying but is told that he also has put his foot on the ropes. Now visibly infuriated, Viktor Tarakanov picks up Leo Breslin by the ear and lifts him onto his shoulders. Staring at the ceiling, Breslin’s back is now being near snapped by Tarakanov’s torture rack. Vik strains and pulls Breslin’s back across his shoulders until the smaller man eventually squeals out in pain.

 

Satisfied that his job is done, Viktor then quickly bends forward and slams Leo Breslin on top of John Duran. Using one opponent as a weapon on the other opponent. The crowd boos as Tarakanov turns to them and grabs his wrist as he holds his clenched fist at face level. He scowls at them and chuckles as they express their blind hatred towards him. Reveling in his success, Viktor fails to realize the danger behind him. The torture rack apparently wasn’t enough to quell Breslin’s thirst for the title as he scurries to his knees and charges towards Viktor, smashing his forearm between his legs to the delight of the crowd!

 

Axis: Oh my! Leo Breslin just hit a low blow on that arrogant bastard Tarakanov and the fans are going insane!

 

King: What!? He cant do that! I thought he was all about truth, justice, and the American way or some crap like that! This isn’t in his arsenal!

 

Axis: Well, you do what you have to when you’re up against two men nearly a foot taller than you! I wouldn’t put a low blow past either Viktor or Duran anyways, I guess he was going by the old saying “When in Rome...”

 

King: What’s that? “When in Rome, hit people in the crotch from behind”? Remind me never to visit Rome, Axis.

 

Viktor holds his groin as he hops about with an extremely pained expression on his face, before finally falling to the mat and rolling to the side to recuperate. Breslin crawls forward and struggles to stand, trying to use the ropes to assist him. In doing so, he does nothing more than hurt his already injured shoulder. The fans rally behind the man as he struggles to get to his feet. Their cheers grow louder as they encourage the young man to get up before John Duran. Duran reaches his feet first but is still partially dazed and as Leo Breslin stands he sees his opening.

 

Leo moves to Duran and hits him with a few forearms to the side of Duran’s head to ensure that he stay unable to compete for the time being. Seeing John stagger even further, Breslin cant help but turn to the crowd and hold his hand with his index finger extended and twirl it around in the air, signaling for The Cyclone. The crowd explodes in cheers for the chance to see Breslin’s finishing maneuver.

 

Axis: If Breslin hits that Japanese Ocean Cyclone suplex than John Duran WILL be eliminated!

 

King: Oh pisshaw! Duran could take at LEAST four of those ridiculous moves before even breaking a damn sweat! That is IF he can even lift Duran.

 

Axis: I wouldn’t be so sure about that, King. I’ve seen that move executed on people bigger than Duran. All you’ve got to do is lift with your legs!

 

Breslin positions himself behind John Duran and grabs his arms and crosses them in front, pulling them behind his back. He then forces Duran to bend slightly and he bends over as well, still holding onto the arms, and tucks his head in between the legs of the European champ. Finally with the crowd roaring behind him, Leo Breslin lifts the two hundred and sixty five pound Duran in the air with expert precision. Struggling under John’s bulk, Breslin eventually spins around and slams Duran to the mat with a loud thud, hitting his finisher flawlessly on the heavier than usual opponent.

 

The crowd is in a state of elated shock as they cheer their heads off for Breslin hitting his finishing maneuver. Breslin struggles to get up after falling but finally throws his arm over Duran’s chest to make the pinfall. The ref slides to the mat and makes the count.

 

 

~1~

 

 

.

 

 

Axis: HE HIT IT!! JOHN DURAN WILL BE ELIMINATED!!

 

 

.

 

 

~2~

 

 

.

 

 

King: NO FARKIN’ WAY!!

 

 

.

 

 

~NO!!~

 

 

The crowd gasps as Tarakanov pulls the referee out of the ring, breaking the count. The fans immediately begin to boo as the ref gets up and begins to berate Viktor for his actions.

 

Axis: DAMN him! DAMN Viktor Tarakanov to hell! Breslin had Duran eliminated after hitting The Cyclone, but “The Red Rage” yanked the ref out of the ring!

 

King: Where would you damn him to exactly? He’s an atheist Communist!

 

Tarakanov makes no attempt to cover up his tracks but the ref continues to yell at him. Simply pushing the stripe-shirted man aside, Viktor rolls back into the ring and moves swiftly towards Breslin who stumbles to his feet to avoid being trampled by the big Russian. Viktor punches Breslin in the face three times, staggering the man enough for Viktor to use the move he’s been waiting for. Tarakanov grabs Breslin’s wrist and then spins around, pulling the arm over his shoulder. The pressure on his shoulder causes Leo to call out in pain. This only makes Vik lean forward, lifting Breslin off his feet.

 

The pressure on his shoulder now doubled, a snapping noise is heard from Breslin’s shoulder area and this causes Viktor to stop the hold, feeling confident in his efforts. He then turns back around and tucks his opponent’s head between his legs and the crowd boos like nobody’s business. Without hesitation, he then lifts the Ohio native in the air and slams him back to the mat with a wicked powerbomb. Maintaining his hold, he instantly lifts him back up and then brings him hard to the mat again. Still holding his opponent, Vik then lifts Leo again with ease and introduces his back and shoulders to the canvas again.

 

Axis: Come on! Three powerbombs is enough, let him go already!

 

Not heeding Axis’ advice, Viktor again lifts Leo in the air and powerbombs him again, leaving his opponent to convulse slightly on the ground. Deciding to stop inflicting punishment on Breslin, “The Red Rage” mercilessly pins him.

 

 

~1~

 

 

.

 

 

.

 

 

~2~

 

 

.

 

 

.

 

 

 

~NO!!~

 

 

Axis: Well thank goodness this is--WHAT?!?!

 

King: I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!!

 

Axis: No WAY!! I never even saw him get up!

 

The crowd gasps and then breathes a sigh of relief as they see John Duran yank Viktor Tarakanov off of the fallen Breslin. Viktor immediately stands back up and gets in Duran’s face. The two big men get chest to chest and yell back and forth. The men argue over who should be the man to pin Breslin. The crowd starts to boo at the disrespect shown for Leo Breslin, who gave the match everything he had. Viktor gets agitated and slaps Duran. Not letting this one slip away, Duran counters with a kick to the gut which doubles Tarakanov over and then hooks his arms and hits a double underhook DDT, sufficiently subduing the Russian beast.

 

Then as a great sign of disrespect, John Duran walks over to Leo Breslin who can barely move and stands him up, which proves to be a difficult task. Eventually managing, Duran turns Leo around and bends over and sticks his arm in between his legs, lifting the lighter man onto his shoulder. Then with the booing of the crowd at an all-time high, the European champion turns to his side and drives Breslin shoulders first to the mat with his arm, using the Rise and Fall. Wanting to pin Breslin before Viktor awakens, John Duran quickly hooks the leg of his opponent.

 

 

~1~

 

 

.

 

 

.

 

 

~2~

 

 

.

 

 

.

 

 

 

~3~

 

 

Funyon promptly announces as the crowd boos their displeasure “Leo Breslin has been ELIMINATED!! The European title will now be decided between John Duran and Viktor Tarakanov!”

 

Axis: What a show of disrespect. As if Breslin weren’t already done, John Duran felt it necessary to hit him with the Rise and Fall, probably ruining that boy’s shoulder.

 

King: Hey, you said yourself that Breslin was resilient, you never know when he might pop back up! I would have done the same damn thing! ... Except I would have used the Joker’s Wild... and people would have hated me more... and it would have looked better...

 

Several EMTs that have emerged from the back pull Breslin out of the ring to check on him. He is heavily favoring his shoulder and can barely walk, being helped to the back by the Medical workers who poke and prod at his shoulder as he grimaces. In the ring, Duran leans in the corner, expecting to wait a long time for Tarakanov to get up. Surprising to him, Viktor gets up quickly and with a grin on his face no less. Unsettled by this, the exhausted Duran charges at Viktor and attempts to smash his face in with a charging forearm smash but Viktor has the move well scouted and ducks under it, hooking John’s arms in a Full Nelson.

 

Axis: HOLY CRAP!! Tarakanov hooked on the Full Nelson and may attempt to take a page out of John Duran’s book and hit the Break Point!

 

King: Dirty thief...

 

The crowd gasps as Viktor hooks on the Full Nelson as it clearly looks as though he is attempting to lift Duran up for the Break Point. He cant quite manage though, as John kicks Viktor in the crotch with the heel of his boot. The male portion of the crowd cringes as Viktor releases the hold and in turn holds himself. Duran, sensing an eminent victory and whips Vik into the ropes. As Tarakanov returns, the European champion attempts to hook the arm of “The Red Rage” in order to hit the Break Point but Viktor lifts his left arm out of danger and grabs John by his left arm and whips him around.

 

Instead of releasing John into the ropes, Tarakanov pulls his opponent back and smashes his fist into his face as hard as he can. Duran hits the mat with a loud bang as the crowd both gasps and boos. Breathing heavily, Tarakanov walks to the corner on the opposite side of the ring and leans, signaling for the referee to make his count out. The referee throws an arm in the air with a finger held for each count as he proceeds.

 

 

“ONE!!”

 

 

Tarakanov breathes heavily as he watches his opponent.

 

 

“TWO!!”

 

 

There is no movement from John Duran, all but for his holding his face in pain.

 

 

“THREE!!”

 

 

Axis: Will this be a repeat of the last time these two faced off?

 

 

“FOUR!!”

 

 

Viktor folds his arms and smiles wickedly, immensely pleased with himself.

 

 

“FIVE!!”

 

 

The buzz of the crowd rises.

 

 

“SIX!!”

 

 

Duran begins to stir.

 

 

“SEVEN!!”

 

 

“The Red Rage” grasps his wrist tape, ensuring its tightness after the intense bout.

 

 

“EIGHT!!”

 

 

Viktor turns to the ringside area and signals for the officials to hand him his newly won European title.

 

 

“NINE!!”

 

 

Duran astonishingly gets to his feet! The crowd explodes in... an undistinguishable noise! They are just excited that something happened, though they know not how to express it.

 

Axis: DURAN IS UP!!

 

King!! HOLY SHIT!! How the hell did he do that?

 

Viktor whips around just as he is about to grab the European Title and looks at the standing Duran. His face is wide with shock and red with anger. He gets frustrated and slaps himself in the forehead, before bursting out into a charge at Duran. The rage blinds Tarakanov as he does not see John’s plan and allows himself to be drawn in. Duran hooks his arm under Viktor’s and places his hands behind Vik’s neck. The skilled European Champion then squeezes at just the right time, before lifting up his adversary and slamming him to the mat with the Break Point.

 

Axis: BREAK POINT!! BREAK POINT!!

 

The crowd makes an excited noise as the two plus-sized wrestlers collide with the mat and John Duran maintains his hold and leans back, wrapping his legs around Tarakanov’s body, turning the bomb maneuver into a submission move. Both men turn a shade of dark red; Duran from squeezing on the maneuver and Viktor from trying to break it. The wrestlers start to grunt, using all of their strength and what little energy they have left to fight for and against the hold. Both men seem on the verge of quitting as the hold takes its toll on both men.

 

King: What the-- is that... IT’S BRESLIN!!

 

From the back, several worried EMTs following close behind, Leo Breslin emerges from the back, much to the explosive delight of the crowd. His shoulder only partially bandaged, he runs down to the ring at a sprint. Leo dashes to the side of the ring and then peeks up and grabs Viktor’s foot and puts it on the ropes, breaking the submission hold! The fans explode in cheers to see the hometown boy back in the game. The referee hollers at Duran to release the hold and starts to give the customary count. A highly shocked Duran reluctantly releases the hold... until he spies Breslin at ringside.

 

Axis: Leo Breslin has come down to get him some revenge on John Duran by costing him the match! Atta boy!

 

King: Oh do shut up, Shed Boy...

 

Upon spying Breslin, Duran drops Viktor like a bad habit and immediately rushes to the ropes to yell at Leo. Extremely pissed at his already defeated adversary, Duran shouts various insults and obscenities at the heavily cheered Leo as Breslin just walks backwards with a grin on his face. He motions with his hands that he is going to have that belt soon and it only further infuriates Duran. The usually calm and reserved European champ is now a screaming lunatic, wanting nothing more than to tear Breslin limb from limb.

 

He lets his guard down though and forgot all about what is lurking behind him. As Duran yells wildly at Breslin, Viktor Tarakanov has struggled to reach his feet and has his sights locked in on Duran. With a slow and calculating walk, “The Red Rage” approaches John Duran and quickly wraps his arms around his waist. Suddenly snapped back to the match, John turns his head to see what has happened, but his timing is ill. Tarakanov lifts with all his strength and slams John Duran’s back and shoulders on the mat with a sickening German suplex. He holds onto his position and the referee slides in for the pin.

 

 

~1~

 

 

.

 

 

.

 

 

~2~

 

 

.

 

 

.

 

 

.

 

 

.

 

 

~3~

 

DING!! DING!! DING!!

 

Funyon speaks up as an official hands the referee the belt. “Here is your winner... and... NEW... Smarks Junior League European Champion... “The Red Rage” Viktor TARAKAAAANOOOOV!!”

 

The Soviet National Anthem starts up as the belt is handed to Viktor as he stands. He quickly bails out of the ring, not allowing the referee to hold up his hand. As he walks up the ramp, he approaches Breslin who has remained on the stage to watch the rest of the match. They stands still... and Viktor simply bumps his shoulder as he walks past.

[Guest Longdogger_Pete]

This coming Sunday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Phoenix WILL Rise.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And Set the SJL On Fire.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dan Caldwell

 

 

 

 

 

 

SJL Wrath!

[Guest Longdogger_Pete]

Three deafening and towering blasts of pyro shoot out of the depths of the Entrance ramp, signaling the return of SJL Metal to the airways! The capacity crowds filling the Gund Arena enjoying the event stand on their feet and holler in appreciation for their favorite farm federation! The two always lovable announcers for this event, Axis and the Suicide King begin their commentary.

 

Axis: “Hello, and welcome back to another invigorating edition of SJL Metal!”

King: “Invigorating? What are you smoking?”

Axis: “The same stuff you’re smoking!”

King: “…Which is?”

Axis: “I dunno… you tell me!”

King: “…Whatever. Anyway… We are getting down to the last two matches on this card… The first one being the debut match of the newest member of the SJL, “Canadian Thunder” Chris Trepanier going at it against the recipient of a tough loss on Crimson, Manson.”

Axis: “Manson was literally inches away from capturing the SJL World Title from Crow, but in the end, Crow remained supreme.”

King: “What I want to know is why a debut match is so far down the card… shouldn’t this be a curtain jerker?”

Axis: “You’d think so, but obviously, the CC has some confidence in this being a good bout.”

 

“Canadian Thunder” by Defused echoes out into the arena causing the fans to stand on their feet, wondering what this newest SJL member looks like. After about ten seconds, Chris Trepanier, mask and all walks out onto the stage and begins to slowly make his way to the ring, never taking his eyes off of the ring area.

 

Funyon: “The following match is scheduled for one fall… Coming to the ring first, standing at six feet eight inches and weighing in at two hundred and seventy six pounds… from Grand Rapids, Manitoba, Canada… he is the ‘Canadian Thunder’ Chris Trepanier!”

 

Once Funyon has concluded his introduction, Chris slides through the bottom rope into the ring. Once inside, Chris moves over to the left hand turnbuckle and climbs up to the middle rope, glaring out at the enthusiastic audience, as a dozen or so flash bulbs go off around him.

 

Axis: “These fans seem to be as enthusiastic to see this man as I am.”

King: “Peh… he looks like just another pushover coming to see if he can run with big dogs…”

 

After about ten seconds, Chris jumps off of the middle turnbuckle and slowly paces himself around the ring, as his music cuts off, along with the bright lights of the arena. On the Entrance stage, several red strobing lights scan the booing audience, while the window-rattling beat of “Hate Song” by The Haunted blasts out. Manson appears from the back of the stage walking to the ring, seemingly absorbing the boos of the crowds like a sponge while he authoritatively strides down the ramp to ringside with a stern look on his otherwise emotionless expression.

 

Funyon: “Now making his way to the ring, standing at Six feet, and weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds, from Denver, Colorado… he is MANSON!”

 

Quickly, before the bell can ring, Manson slides into the ring and attempts to gain the advantage on his opponent by firing quick thrusts into the chest area of Chris Trepanier, but due to the Martial Arts training of the Canadian Thunder, Chris blocks every attempt at a jab, and responds soundly with the “Triple Entente” (Signature Move: Two hard kicks to the Midsection followed by a Spinning Roundhouse Kick to the head) knocking Manson down on his backside, stunned momentarily. The previous boos from the crowd quickly change into ovasive cheers, as Manson drops down to his back from the stiff shots from his opponent.

 

King: “Oh bah! That should be illegal! The bell hasn’t even rung yet!”

Axis: “Chris Trepanier countered Manson’s punches with what he calls the Triple Entente!”

King: “Is that what he calls those lame kicks of his?”

Axis: “It says here that Chris Trepanier has extensive Martial Arts training, so Manson better be very careful in this match…”

 

The referee sternly fires a wanting towards both compeditors as he signals over to the side of the ring for the bell. After the stiff shots from his opponent, Manson bolts up to his feet, gingerly holding his left cheek, where the roundhouse kick impacted.

 

Axis: “That kick from Trepanier could have broken a jaw or something…”

King: “He’s lucky the referee didn’t disqualify him for that…”

Axis: “Manson did make the first move, so I guess Trepanier was fine…”

King: “Peh… he shouldn’t be…”

Axis: “Oh quit whining.”

King: “Bite me.”

 

Manson and Trepanier begin to slowly circle the ring, keeping the same distance from each other and never taking their eyes off of one another. Slowly, Manson lifts his arm up into the air, extending his fingers showing his palm, in a test of strength gesture. Cautiously, Trepanier moves in closer, extending his arm up to meet Manson’s as well, but before theiy could lock, Manson fires a stiff kick into the chest of Trepanier, followed flawlessly by the “Thrill Kill” (Signature move: Double Arm DDT) quickly killing any croud reactions there were at the time. Manson quickly rolls up on Chris, but barely gets a one count before Chris pushes Manson off of him.

 

Axis: “Manson looking for the quick fall there.”

King: “Nice job from Manson taking Trepanier to the mat with the Thrill Kill.”

 

Manson quickly squirms up to one knee, grabbing onto Chris’s arm, positioning it for a Fujiwara Armbar. Quickly, Trepanier reverses the armbar, pulling Manson over onto the floor, and locking in a Fujiwara Armbar of his own. As quickly as Trepanier got out of it, Manson frees his arm, and the two Technical experts rise to one knee, glaring into each other’s eyes.

 

Axis: “These two exhibit the same style of ring work, and they both know full well how to get out of those types of moves.”

King: “Gee Axis… I’m so happy that you’re here to tell me these things.”

Axis: “Aww shucks King… I don’t know what to say.”

King: “How about nothing?”

Axis: “You know that’s not possible.”

 

Trepanier and Manson both lift up to their feet, as Trepanier does a quick adjustment on his mask. Manson and Chris once again begin to circle the ring, as the crowds around give a sounding ovation for the two men’s effort in the previous encounter. Manson and Trepanier come together in the center of the ring, and start to signal a grapple formation, but once again Manson tries to fire a kick into Chris’ chest. This time though, the Canadian Thunder is ready with a block and a kick of his own, and then quickly pulling off a Swinging Neckbreaker. Chris follows up the move, after a few seconds, with a side leg lock, causing Manson to struggle to get out.

 

Axis: “Trepanier was ready for Manson’s kick that time.”

King: “Manson needs to get control of this match… the longer Trepanier is allowed to pull off these moves, the harder it’ll be for Manson to win.”

Axis: “True, King.”

 

After about a minute of struggling, Manson finally gets to the bottom rope and latches on, causing Trepanier to break the hold on Manson’s leg. Quickly, Manson slides under the bottom rope to the outside of the ring, catching his breath. Trepanier attempts to take advantage of the situation, but before he can get to Manson, the referee slides into the middle and pushes the Canadian Thunder back giving Manson adequate time to catch his breath.

 

King: “Nice job by the referee, not allowing Trepanier to cheat.”

Axis: “Cheating my foot…”

King: “Why… what’s wrong with your foot?”

 

After a few seconds Manson slides back into the ring ready for some more action. As soon as Manson rises up to his feet, Trepanier sidesteps the referee, bolting towards his opponent. After two hard shots to the chest from Trepanier, Manson is hurled across the ring in an Irish whip. Manson bounces off of the ropes and returns to his previous position, where Trepanier locks Manson into a standing headlock causing Manson to flail his arms in a drastic attempt to get out of the move. After about five minutes, Manson begins to break out, firing two hard elbows into Chris’ midsection, but instead of letting go, Trepanier quickly turns the headlock into a swinging DDT, bringing Manson violently to the floor, impacting with a sickening ‘THUD.’

 

Axis: “Very nice move from Trepanier with that Standing headlock into a swinging DDT.”

King: “Manson needs to get his act together…”

 

Trepanier rolls on top of Manson for a pin attempt, while the referee drops down into position to see that Manson’s shoulders are on the mat.

 

One!

 

Two!

 

Manson quickly fires a hand into the air, bringing his shoulder off the mat, and bringing a stop to the pin count.

 

King: “Kick out! Manson isn’t going down so easily.”

Axis: “Manson does not want to lose this match to this new kid, just after being in the Main Event for the Heavyweight Title last show…”

King: “No… you think?”

 

Trepanier slowly rises up to his feet, bringing Manson up with him by the hair on his head. As soon as both men are to their feet, Trepanier attempts to complete a sit-out power bomb, but Manson reverses it into a Hurricanrana in mid-stride, bringing Trepanier down to the mat harshly.

 

King: “Nice reversal by Manson.”

Axis: “Trepanier was trying to bring this match to a conclusion with a power bomb, but Manson isn’t going down that easy.”

King: “Damn right, Axis… Manson is not going to lose that easily to some newbie.”

 

Manson quickly follows up the brilliant reversal with a flawless Springboard Moonsault, landing squarely on Trepanier’s midsection. Manson follows up by hooking the leg for an attempt at a pinfall.

 

One!

 

Two!

 

Trepanier kicks out of the pin, bringing cheers up from the otherwise dead crowd.

 

Axis: “Kick out from Trepanier. He’s not going down so easily either.”

King: “This is going to take a bit more than a Springboard Moonsault to finish off this kid…”

 

Instead of getting frustrated, Manson instantly lifts Trepanier’s head off of the mat, and locks in a sleeper hold, keeping the Canadian Thunder grounded. Chris swings his arms around desperately, while Manson keeps the hold locked in. Slowly, Chris begins to weaken from the sleeper hold applied, and begins to fall down to the mat. Manson just falls down right next to him, never once letting up on the hold.

 

King: “Nice work by Manson, keeping Trepanier grounded with that sleeper hold.”

Axis: “It looks like Chris is beginning to fade here from the hold.”

 

Still showing life, Chris slowly swings his arms in a last ditch attempt at getting out of the hold. The referee drops down next to them, and continually inquires whether Trepanier gives in to the move or not. Finally, Manson somehow lifts both himself and his opponent up to their feet, lets go of the hold he has on Trepanier, and performs the “Last Rites” (Signature Move: Inverted Swinging Neckbreaker) causing the Canadian Thunder to fall to the mat with impressive force. Manson slowly follows up with a pinfall attempt, thinking that the match is all over with.

 

King: “This might be it!”

 

One!

 

Two!

 

Th…

 

Trepanier fires an arm into the air, stopping the pinfall count on him, receiving a cheerful reaction from the crowd, and a dirty glare from Manson. Angrily, Manson climbs up to his feet and begins to wander around the ring deep in thought, as Chris Trepanier struggles to get up.

 

Axis: “Kick out from Trepanier!”

King: “Slow count.”

Axis: “Hardly!”

King: “It’s the truth.”

 

Just as Trepanier is about to get up to his feet, Manson moves to intercept the man. Thinking quickly, Trepanier bolts up into position just as Manson is about to perform another move. Manson attempts to stun Trepanier with a punch to the face, but wisely, Trepanier grabs a hold of Manson’s arm and locks in a Chicken Wing Headlock, causing Manson to echo out in pain as he flings his arms in an attempt to get out.

 

Axis: “Chicken Wing Headlock!”

King: “I can see that!”

 

With the referee in front of him, Manson quickly fires his knee upwards between Trepanier’s legs, hitting him with a low blow, immediately breaking the hold on him. Trepanier falls down to the mat clutching his groin area with a loud moan, as Manson drops to his knees gasping for air.

 

Axis: “Low Blow! C’mon ref!”

King: “What low blow? I didn’t see any low blow!”

Axis: “Well open your eyes!”

 

After taking a few seconds to regain himself, Manson quickly jumps back up to his feet, and drags Trepanier up with him. Manson then backs Chris up into the ropes, whips him across the ring, and upon the rebound, completely LEVELS Trepanier with a Yakuza Kick, impacting in the jaw area. Chris immediately falls down to the mat clutching his jaw, while Manson hooks Trepanier’s leg for an attempted pin fall.

 

One!

 

Two!

 

Thre… no!

 

Trepanier fires his left hand into the air, drawing a decent reaction from the crowd. Manson gets up to one knee with an angry look on his face, and begins to argue with the referee about a slow count, but to no avail.

 

King: “Oh come on! That was a three count!”

Axis: “I dunno… looks to me like Trepanier kicked out before the three!”

King: “Oh shut up… what do you know.”

 

Manson pulls Trepanier up to his feet, again with a firm grip on his hair causing the referee to yell at Manson telling him not to grab the hair, but of course Manson totally ignores the orders from the referee. Before Manson could pull off a move on the Canadian Thunder, he bursts out of the hold that is on him and lifts him up onto his shoulders in a standing fireman’s carry. In one fluid motion, Trepanier throws Manson’s back end straight into the air, and brings him down in front in a Falcon’s Arrow position, landing on the mat with an incredible SPLAT. Trepanier then lays his right hand across Manson’s body for the pin attempt.

 

One!

 

Two!

 

Thre…no!

 

Manson frees himself from the pin attempt with a kick out, killing the slight cheers from the crowds from the big move performed by the Canadian Thunder.

 

Axis: “What a move from Chris Trepanier!”

King: “What’s even more amazing is that Manson kicked out after the move!”

 

Instead of getting frustrated, Chris Trepanier turns Manson onto his stomach and locks Manson’s arm up, causing him to yelp out in pain. As Trepanier has Manson’s arm locked the crowds around ringside yell out “Tap Out” to Manson, who struggles to get out of the move.

 

Axis: “Chris Trepanier is relentless in his attacks!”

King: “It’s only a matter of time until Manson gets his groove back on.”

Axis: “Right…”

 

Slowly, Manson begins to frantically claw his way to the bottom rope, in an attempt to get out of the excruciating hold on him. Finally, after about a minute, Manson locks on to the bottom rope causing Trepanier to let go of Manson’s arm, and causing the crowds that were chanting to let out a loud groan of disapproval. Before Manson can get back to his feet, Trepanier lifts him back up to his feet and Irish whips Manson across the ring. Upon return, Manson tries to knock Trepanier down with a clothesline, but intelligently the Canadian Thunder ducks the attempt. Upon the second return, Trepanier catches Manson with a stiff kick to the gut, followed quickly by a devastating Double Underhook Vertical Brainbuster, receiving a very hearty approval from the audience.

 

Axis: “What a move from Chris Trepanier! Manson is in serious trouble here!”

King: “Oh bah… Manson will get out of any attempt at a win.”

Axis: “I’m not so sure about that!”

King: “You just wait and see then…”

 

Instead of following up with a pinfall, Chris Trepanier rounds the body of Manson to the legs, where he lifts up the left leg and drives it viciously into the mat. Trepanier follows quickly with an Achilles Hold, thus causing Manson to bellow out in pain, and frantically claw for the ropes, trying to get the hold released.

 

Axis: “This could be it! Manson is in the middle of the ring with nowhere to go!”

King: “He’ll get out of this hold somehow!”

 

Slowly, Manson creeps his way closer and closer to the bottom rope, as if his life depended on getting there. Manson reaches out with his arms, and comes to within a fingernail’s length of the bottom rope, before Chris realizes where his opponent is, and drags him back into the middle of the ring, continually applying heavy pressure to his leg.

 

Axis: “So close there! Manson was within a finger’s length of getting out of the hold!”

King: “Hey! That should be illegal!”

Axis: “Well, it isn’t, so live with it!”

 

Once again, Manson begins to frantically claw towards the bottom rope, while the Cleveland crowds begin to start the ‘Tap Out!’ chant again, this time more ovasive than the other one. Inch by Inch, Manson desperately drags himself and Trepanier towards the bottom rope again, this time finally grabbing on with all of his might and wrapping his arm around it. Trepanier finally lets go of Manson’s leg, killing the cheers of the crowd.

 

King: “He got out! Manson is out of the hold! See, I told you Axis!”

Axis: “Yeah, he’s out, but Manson has got to be in extreme pain from that excruciating hold Trepanier had on him.”

 

Just as Axis called it, Manson slowly reaches his feet, heavily favoring the left leg that was locked in the agonizing Achilles Lock. Wasting no time at all, Trepanier moves back into his opponent’s position, attempting to perform a devastating Muscle Buster on Manson, but surprisingly, Manson evades the move, whips Trepanier around to the front, and hits the “Mind Bender” (Signature Move: Front Sit-Out Suplex).

 

King: “Mind bender! Manson hit the Mind Bender on Trepanier!”

Axis: “It could be all over for Trepanier here… that was one hell of a move from Manson!”

 

Manson rolls on top of Trepanier for the pin attempt.

 

One!

 

Two!

 

Three… no!

 

Axis: “Trepanier kicked out!”

King: “I don’t believe it…”

 

Much to the dismay of Manson, Chris Trepanier rolls over to his side, breathing heavily as Manson gets up to his feet and begins to scream in protest in the referee’s face at the slow count. Unbenounced to him though, Chris Trepanier climbs up to his feet very quickly, and stands in waiting behind Manson, like a predator waiting for his prey. Slowly Manson turns around as the crowd cheers begin to intensify. Manson then faces Trepanier, only to receive a harsh kick to the gut…

 

followed…

 

 

 

by…

 

 

 

the…

 

Axis: “LIGHTNING STRIKE! (Finisher: Vertebreaker) LIGHTNING STRIKE! THIS COULD BE IT!”

King: “ARGH… Manson needs to get his ego in check and quit dicking around with the damn referee!

 

The entire arena EXPLODES in cheers as Manson is folded up like an accordian on the mat from the ferocious impact of the Lightning Strike. Exhausted, Trepanier can do nothing exe except drop a single arm down across the totally limp body of Manson, as the referee drops down for the count with the entire audience chanting in unison.

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

King: “HE KICKED OUT! HE KICKED OUT! HE KICKED OUT! BY GOD, MANSON KICKED OUT OF THE LIGHTNNING STRIKE!”

Axis: “Holy Crap… I have NEVER in my career seen ANYONE kick out of a Vertebreaker… Not even when Trash used it as the Trash Compactor! This is intense”

 

Every single living soul in the arena explodes in a deafening groan, as both Chris Trepanier and Manson lay on the mat completely exhausted from the grueling match.

 

Axis: “Oh my god… what is needed to finish this match!”

King: “I don’t know, but god damn… I’ve got to hand it to Manson for giving it his all, and kicking out of the Lightning Strike!”

 

Slowly, Trepanier begins to ascend to his feet, while Manson struggles to even move from the incredible impact from the Lightning Strike. Finally, after what seems like forever, Trepanier slowly lifts Manson’s left leg high into the air, driving his knee into the back of Manson for the “Trepanier Lock” (Finishing Maneuver: Single Leg Walls of Jericho) to an incredible pop from the crowd. Despiratley, Manson claws at the ring mat, trying to reach the bottom rope, as he echoes out in an agonizing scream of pain.

 

Axis: “This has to be it… Trepanier Lock on Manson!”

King: “C’mon Manson… get out of this move as well…”

 

Inch by Inch, shuffle by shuffle, Manson ever so slowly makes it one fingerlength closer to the bottom rope, as Chris Trepanier continuously applies massive pressure on his back, never letting up for even a millisecond. Ever so close, Manson makes the absolute farthest reach he can possibly make, coming to within a grueling millimeter of freeing himself from the pain. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Manson finally gives in to the agonizing pain, and slams his palm down on the mat as quickly as he can, bellowing out for mercy. Almost instantaneously, the referee leaps to his feet and signals for the bell, bringing the entire audience to their feet in ovations cheers of gratitude for what Chris Trepanier has done to their most hated superstar in the SJL.

 

Axis: “There’s the tap! Chris Trepanier has done it! He has defeated Manson in his opening match here in the SJL!”

King: “Manson was sooo close to the ropes that time… but just could not take any more pain… but you have to give it all to him… he kicked out of what is possibly the most devastating maneuver in Wrestling today, the Vertebreaker.”

Axis: “I will give it to him… He put his all into winning this match, but in the end, came up just a millimeter short. Excellent bout!”

 

Exhausted, Trepanier finally releases the hold he has on Manson and drops down to the mat, ghasping for air, as the mask covers up his blood red face. Slowly, Trepanier slides out of the ring and begins to stumble up the ramp to the locker room area, as inside the ring, Manson turns himself around enough to fire a murderous glare in the direction of his victorious opponent, while “Canadian Thunder” by Defused blasts out for the victor.

 

Axis: “Stay tuned folks… we have MUCH more in store for you in tonight’s Main Event!”

King: “What a match… Even I have to give Trepanier a little bit of recognition for that effort… but the star of the match has to be Manson, just because I say so.”

Axis: “Whatever… just as long as you know who actually won the match.”

 

Trepanier fires one last look into the ring, meeting the glare of Manson head on before Chris disappears behind the curtain, and the cameras cut off for commercials.

[Guest Longdogger_Pete]

Fade in from commercial.

 

Marilyn Manson?s monstrous metal hit and title track, ?The Beautiful People? blares through the speakers of television sets all throughout the world as the wrestling programming, commonly referred to as S! J! L! Metal, once again returns from the commercial break to a frantic swivelling shot of all sections of the crowd.

 

?I don't want you and I don't need ya,

Don't bother to resist or I'll beat ya...

It's not your fault that you're always wrong,

The weak ones are there to justify the strong...

 

...The beautiful people, the beautiful people...

 

It's all relative to the size of your steeple...

You can't see the forest for the trees...

...and ya can't smell your own shit on your knneeeeessss!!

 

There's no time to discriminate... hate every motherfucker that's in your wwaayyyyy!!

 

Hey you, what do you see!?

Something beautiful, something free!?

Hey you, are you trying to be mean!?

If you live with apes man, it's hard to be clean!?

 

Cut to a high birds eye shot of the SJL ring, a clean white matting laid down on the canvas, it seems that the SJL has finally got some more money to spend. Cut and pan over to the two fabled SJL commentators, ?The Lord of the Shed? Axis and ?The Ladies Man? the Suicide King. The two men, as always, banter with each other before the cameraman notifies them that they?re on the air...

 

?Aaaaaaannnnnddddd welcome back fans to this edition of S! J! L! MEEETTTAAAAAAAALLLLL! And what a night of wrestling action it has been so far, already we?ve seen a hard fought television title defence and the impressive debut of the ?Canadian Thunder? Chris Trepanier. But this is not all, but of course, as now it?s time for the main event match!?

 

?That?s right, Axis! It?s time for two crappy wrestlers who happened to have arsed their way into the world title scene battle it out!?

 

?Crow did beat your boy Sean Atlas twice remember??

 

?Yeah right, Axis... I think I would remember such a disaster like that! Pft... idiot.?

 

?Right... well fans, tonight?s match event is the Antichrist Superstar, our World Heavyweight Champion, Crow defending his title against his most fierce competition to date, the Maori Badass, Va?aiga. But not in a straight singles match, oh no, in a CHAIRSHOT MATCH! I shall not divulge the finer details of the match?s rules, for that, we head over to Funyon...?

 

Funyon stands in the middle of the ring with card in one hand and microphone in the other, he is smartly dressed in a tuxedo with a smart red bow ties and slowly, he brings the microphone up to his lips...

 

?Ladies and gentleman, the following contest is the CHAIRSHOT MATCH and on the line is the Smartmarks Junior Leagues... World Heavyweight Championship! The rules for this match up are simple, disqualification, countout and pinfall/submission rules are in effect. However, steel folding chairs are completely legal to use on your opponent, but any other foreign object is not and use of such will result in a disqualification.?

 

The crowd cheers politely for Funyon as he stops for a brief moment before continuing...

 

?Introducing first, the challenger...?

 

The Gund Arena falls into the shadow of darkness as Va?aiga?s shadow appears in the entranceway, clad in his hooded training top, and as always, the hood is down.

 

?SLAM!?

 

Pyrotechnics fire off as the first ?SLAM!? of Onyx and Biohazard?s ?Slam (The Remix)? explodes through the speakers, flashes of gold strobe lights pierce the darkness of the entrance ramp as Va?aiga begins his slow walk down to the ring. The Smarktron flashes small snippets of Va?aiga?s shadow boxing and posing, juxtaposing with some of his biggest in ring hits... ala, Maori Dropping Thor, the chairshot on Spike Jenkins, Maori Dropping John Duran, staring off with the Hell Machine and Maori Dropping Spike Jenkins. Va?aiga climbs into the ring, rolls down his hood and then thrusts his fists to the crowd, following he takes off his top and throws it into the crowd before firing off the Maori hand sign.

 

The beats of ?SLAM? fade out, and there?s a momentary silence before...

 

 

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

 

 

...Soilwork?s thrash metal hit ?Natural Born Chaos? explodes through the arena speakers and whips the New York crowd into a gigantic roar of cheers! A moment later, emerging from behind the entrance curtain with Smartmarks Junior Leagues World Heavyweight Title on his shoulder is... The Antichrist Superstar, Crow! He stands on the stage, unlit cigarette in his mouth, gold zippo lighter in hand. To the climaxing music, Crow ignites the lighter... and sets off two flaming rows down the side of the ramp! He lights the Dunhill Red in his mouth and takes a large drag, which he inhales very quickly. Crow cocks his head to the right, and then to the left... and then throws it back whilst exhaling and throwing his arms horizontal in the crucifix pose! He smirks and then walks down to the ring as the crowd begins to chant...

 

?WE ARE VICTIMS!?

 

*clap clap clap!*

 

?WE ARE VICTIMS!?.

 

The Antichrist Superstar slowly strides up the steel steps, climbs through the second and third ropes and steps into the ring where the huge frame of the Maori Badass stands, staring intensely at the title belt. Crow unhooks the belt and walks to the center of the ring, with a look of fire in his eyes he lays it across the canvas and motions his arm, in an attempt to call Va?aiga over. The Maori Monster obliges to the surprise of the crowd and the two men stand face to face with each other with the title belt lying between their feet... an aroma of tension spirals through the air as the two men begin to talk trash.

 

?Looks like some hard words are being exchanged right about now.?

 

?Your smarts never cease to amaze me, Axis.?

 

... Looks like Crow has taken exception to one of Va?aiga?s comments and throws forward a big right hand!

 

*DING! DING! DING!*

 

The connection is brutal... but the Maori Badass just shrugs it off, cracks his neck and asks for more! The Antichrist Superstar isn?t one to not give people what they want, so he fires off another big right hand! Then a left hand! Right hand! Left hand and another right hand!

 

?MY HOUSE!?

 

BUT VA?AIGA DOESN?T ACKNOWLEDGE THE PUNCHES AND LAUGHS IN CROW?S FACE! Crow is angered, and decides the best course of action in this moment of anger is to bring out the big guns... thus, he unleashes the most blood curdling knife edged chop this side of Chris Benoit! THE MAORI DOESN?T ACKNOWLEDGE THE CHOP! And instead of selling, he throws a monstrous Maori punch to Crow?s face! The Antichristian Phenomenon is rocked and flies back into the ropes because of the huge impact! Va?aiga stays on Crow and quickly starts unloading a barrage of punches on the man!

 

 

LEFT CROSS!

 

 

LEFT CROSS!

 

 

LEFT CROSS!

 

 

...a kiss of the fist...

 

 

BIG RIGHT HOOK!

 

 

?Va?aiga with his patented punch combo, rocking Crow! The Maori?s off to a good start here, King.?

 

 

The crowd is unsure who to root for in this match, and as Crow reels from the offensive explosion they just decide to cheer both men! Va?aiga latches onto Crow?s arm and yanks back with harsh velocity, irish whipping the champion into the opposite ropes... Crow comes off................ and has his body broken in half by the train full of pain that is the fucking Maori Badass! A HUGE SPEAR skewers Crow and crushes his against the canvas and Va?aiga immediately follows up by mounting the Antichrist Superstar?s chest and pounding him with an inhumane amount of punches! The Maori just isn?t stopping, he just keeps going and going AND GOING! Referee Anthony Michael Hall has to step in and he manages to somehow drag Va?aiga off the poor son of a bitch lying on the ground, but do you think this is going to stop the Maori?s assault? Of course not, Va?aiga screams at the referee for a second, but then turns his attention back to Crow... and SCRAPES his boot across the champion?s forehead! The Antichrist Superstar turns his head away from danger and clutches at his forehead, but this doesn?t stop Va?aiga stapling Crow?s ass to the floor with his boot and scraping the forehead again!

 

 

?Now that?s the kind of moves I like to see, Axis.?

 

?Crow is in rouble early in this match up, he?s gonna have to step it up if he wants to keep that belt of his...?

 

?He has to hit a big move or something, he has back into it somehow! You see if it was me, I would be kicking that Maori?s ass all over the arena...?

 

 

The Maori Badass has lost it, and is merciless in his attack on the champion, as he grabs a clump of the bird?s blackened locks and literally DRAGS him across the ring, near to a corner! Grabbing another clump of Crow?s blackened locks, Va?aiga very roughly PULLS him up to a standing base and a gasping scream of agony escapes from the champion?s mouth. And soon, the crowd and commentators see why such a scream was cried as Va?aiga holds up his left hand and opens it up... letting fall a bunch of Crow?s locks. The Maori Monster pushes the Antichrist Superstar into the turnbuckle, latches onto an arm and whips him across the ring... Va?aiga immediately runs straight after the whip, hoping to crush Crow between his huge form and the turnbuckles. Though, his hope is not to become a reality, because Crow manages to grasp onto the top ropes branching out from the turnbuckle and push his body up and backwards ? avoiding the Maori train full of pain and causing this train to crash into the corner! Va?aiga runs face first and stumbles back out in a daze... and then feels two boots formed in a dropkick hit his back and send him once again face first into the turnbuckles! Except this time, the Maori manages to stop himself from stumbling out backwards and turns around charging at the Antichristian Phenomenon! BUT NO! Crow is ready and prepared for this advance after nailing the dropkick and getting back to his feet, and thus manages to sneak Va?aiga over in a lightning quick arm drag! Crow is back to his first, being the quicker man, and once again catches the slower form of Va?aiga in an arm drag!

 

?This might just be the moves Crow?s been looking for, now maybe he can get back into the match up...?

 

The champion is up first one more time, but instead of trying for another arm drag, he lunges at the Maori and unleashes a WICKED knife edged chop.......... noo! Va?aiga just shakes his head and screams...

 

 

?MY HOUSE!?

 

 

Crow unleashes another, but with the same result. The Maori Badass merely shakes his head and doesn?t acknowledge the move affecting him at all... and so, the Antichrist Superstar throws a right hand...

 

...But Va?aiga grabs Crow?s fist with his hand and wrenches it the way it?s NOT supposed to go! Desperate to get his arm loose, Crow fires a punch with his free left arm... but it gets captured by the Maori?s huge palm and also wrenched in the way it?s NOT supposed to go too! Va?aiga scowls loudly and in a fluid, split second motion, he switches his grasp on Crow?s arms to a belly to belly waistlock...

 

 

..Va?aiga powers Crow off the mat and pivots one hundred and eighty degrees...

 

 

...

 

 

..

 

 

.

 

 

AND THROWS CROW?S BACK TO THE MAT WITH A FEROCIOUSLY POWERFUL BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX!

 

 

?GREAT MOVE! Now that?s a move, Axis! Go for the cover, you idiot!?

 

 

Lateral press!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

.

 

 

..

 

 

...

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

.NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

THE ANTICHRIST SUPERSTARS KICKS OUT OF THE HUGE MOVE!

 

 

But oddly, the Maori Badass does not get angry and/or scream at referee Anthony Michael Hall... instead; he steps through the ropes and jumps on the outside. He reaches under the ring...

 

...and pulls out a folded steel chair!

 

 

?It?s the first chair to be brought out of the dug out tonight, Axis!?

 

?... dug out??

 

?Aaah, stupid Australian.?

 

 

Va?aiga slides back into the ring with the steel chair, and waits for the Antichrist Superstar to get back to his feet...

 

...Well he would if Crow was actually in the ring. Where the hell has he gone, he?s disappeared! The Maori Monster jumps around the ring, scowling all the way and screaming various mongrel obscenities as he searches for the Antichrist Superstar. It seems to Va?aiga that Crow has vanished into thin air, but not quite, the Maori really isn?t the sharpest knife in the draw, and it?s because of his daftness, he neglects to think about the most likely place Crow is hiding...

 

And this place is under the ring, the champion rolled out and under whilst Va?aiga was on the other side grabbing a chair. Va?aiga gets frustrated and starts screaming at the referee, asking him WHERE THE FUCK DID CROW GO!? Maybe you should check behind you, Va?aiga, cause Crow?s right there with steel chair in hand!

 

 

...

 

 

*THWACK!*

 

 

Crow brings the chair across the back of the Maori Badass...... yet he doesn?t flinch, he simply to around with a crazed look in his eye. Psychological intensity ahoy... the two men stare coldly as each other, these two have a past and neither one has forgotten.

 

.

 

*THWACK! THWACK!*

 

Crow and Va?aiga swing their chairs forward and they crash together!

 

 

..

 

 

*THWACK! THWACK!*

 

The chairs connect again and the crowd shudders with every sickening sound!

 

 

?A battle of steel chairs! I hate these battles, the noise of steel cracking against steel gets to me...?

 

 

...

 

 

 

VA?AIGA BOOTS CROW IN THE STOMACH! The Antichrist Superstar doubles over, exposing the top of his head to the Maori Badass? wrath...

 

 

*THWACK!*

 

 

A VILE CHAIR SHOT TO THE TOP OF CROW?S HEAD!

 

...

 

 

?JESUS CHRIST, MARY THE WHORE AND JOSEPH THE PHILANDER! That chair shot was BRAINING! Axis, you need one of them!?

 

 

But wait! Crow is still standing, he may be stumbling around like a bloody drunk, but he?s still standing up in the ring! Seeing this, Va?aiga lifts his chair up to the heavens... and brings it down hard on the top of Crow?s head once again!

 

.... BUT CROW IS STILL STANDING!

 

The crowd cheers and screams with all their hearts for their world champion, their favourite and their Antichrist Superstar. The Maori Badass is amazed at the Australian?s resilience, and thus, rips the chair Crow was holding in his hand away, takes one chair in each hand... and swings them both back...

 

 

...

 

 

AND VA?AIGA CRUSHES CROW?S HEAD INBETWEEN THE TWO CHAIRS WITH A BRUTAL ONE-MAN CONCHAIRTO-ESQUE MANOEUVRE!

 

?Oh........ my....... god.......?

 

?Holy shit, Axis. He like put his head in a vice... or something like that.?

 

The Antichristian Phenomenon falls backwards, clutching at his forehead, and realising his immediate peril, hastily rolls out of the ring and falls to the outside. On the outside, no pinfalls can be counted, therefore the danger of a cover is eliminated and possibility of losing your world title is nil. Meanwhile, back in the ring, Va?aiga is playing intensely to the crowd...

 

 

?TURN UP, KICK ASS! MY FUCKING HOUSE!?

 

 

...and the crowd roars loudly in approval of the Maori Badass? showing tonight, he has dominated most, if not all of tonight?s match up thus far. Va?aiga continues to play to the crowd whilst Crow is on the outside with referee Anthony Michael Hall, nursing his head. Hall is asking if Crow wants to continue, but he really should know better, even if the pain is throbbing and almost nearly unbearable... Crow is a man, a strong man, and pain is not going to stop him from continuing this match. The Antichrist Superstar?s answer is a whole heartened NO! The Maori Badass is getting very rowdy inside the ring as he throws one of the chairs in his hands down to the canvas and one out of the ring and onto the ramp way! But soon, Va?aiga turns his attention back to Crow and his mind set back to ?Assault? level. He rolls out of the ring and wrenches the champion up to a standing base, and with a grab of an arm, he Irish whips Crow into the railing! The Antichristian Phenomenon hits the railing at a fast speed, his back slamming painfully against the steel... Va?aiga instantly jogs straight over, and locks Crow in position... and then drops him back against the railing one more time with a Side Maori Leg Sweep! The Champion cries out as he is once again dragged up by the hair... and cries out again because the train full of pain (also known as the Maori Spear) has arrived and apparently, Crow didn?t pay the ticket. Va?aiga crushes Crow?s stomach between his shoulder and the railing, and nothing seems to be going right for Crow in this match up...

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

UUUPPPPPPPEERRRRRRCCCCCUUUTTTTTT!!!!

 

 

?MAORI FLURRY! An Crow has been sent over the railing, and now it looks like this match is going to spill into the crowd...?

 

?Quick, hit that female looking man ringside!?

 

?... why, King??

 

?Uhh... cause she?s evil.?

 

 

The force of the uppercut sends Crow flying backward over the steel railing and into the crowd, resulting in numerous security guards piling around the area and pushing the sea of life away from the action. Referee Anthony Michael Hall is begging and pleading with Va?aiga to get the match back inside the ring, and even threatens calling double countout decision, which would cost Va?aiga the match and the world title belt. But the Maori Badass is in a trance, Pandora?s box has been opened and the beast has been unleashed...

 

...and this is now known to the world as they feast their eyes upon the Maori?s latest idea. Va?aiga applies a waistlock on Crow... dangerously close to the railing, if the Maori gets this, the champion?s back is going to directly on the steel railing. With a heave... Va?aiga lifts Crow overhead in a german suplex!!

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

 

 

CROW FLIPS OUT OF IT AND AVOID A POSSIBLE CAREER ENDING MOVE!

 

 

The Antichrist Superstar lands on his feet back on the outside, whilst Va?aiga is just getting back up in the crowd section after heaving Crow overhead. Seeing an opportunity, Crow grabs the Maori Monster in an inverted face lock and steps on to the railing.

 

 

?We?ve seen this before, King! He?s going for the Diamond Dust! Crow has somehow managed to get back into it!?

 

 

...

 

 

BUT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Va?aiga takes a page out of Sean Atlas? book and reverses the Diamond Dust! He reverses the Diamond Dust by clutching around Crow?s upper and slamming his forward onto the mat! The Antichristian Phenomenon?s body is now having spasms of pain exploding through... and the two men take a breather on the outside... until...

 

 

?ONE!?

 

 

...the shout of Referee Anthony Michael Hall wakens Va?aiga up from his trance, and makes him realise that if he stays outside he?s gonna lose!

 

 

?TWO!?

 

 

...Va?aiga picks Crow up and hoists him over the railing.

 

 

?THREE!?

 

 

...Va?aiga climbs the apron.

 

 

?FOUR!?

 

 

...and he steps into the ring!

 

 

?FIVE!?

 

 

...Crow is stirring slightly!

 

 

?SIX!?

 

 

...he?s using the railing to get back to a standing base!

 

 

?SEVEN!?

 

 

...he?s halfway up!

 

 

?EIGHT!?

 

 

...he stumbles over to the apron!

 

 

?NINE!?

 

 

...and slides in!!

 

 

?NOO!?

 

 

?The Antichristian Superstar makes it back into the ring just in a knick of time, and I don?t think Va?aiga will really care though, the more he hurts, the more fun he has.?

 

?Pfffffft. Like you know anything about Maoris, Axis.?

 

 

Va?aiga is revitalised and picks Crow back up straight after he rolls into the ring, not allowing the champion any rest, and basically just bullies him over into the corner... afterwards, Va?aiga lets Crow have a bit of a lean against the turnbuckle whilst he concerns himself with another matter. That matter being the steel chair lying in the ring.

 

 

?What the hell is Va?aiga doing with the chair, King??

 

?It looks like he has an idea in his head, Axis. Possibly something bad, cause ya know, he?s Maori, he?s kinda like... not nice and stuff.?

 

?...that?s some great insight there, King.?

 

?Thanks, Sheddy.?

 

While the commentators may have no idea what he is up to, Va?aiga sure knows what he?s up to as he lodges the steel chair in between the second and third rope in the corner. He walks casually back over to the other corner, where Crow, who is clutching at his head, slumps against the turnbuckles, and latches onto an arm... Irish whip!

 

...noooo! Crow holds on and reverses the whip... and sends Va?aiga head first into the steel chair lodged in between the ropes! The Maori Badass stumbles back out dazed... and falls shoulder first to the mat as Crow gets the inside cradle! Referee Anthony Michael Hall drops to the canvas...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

.

 

 

..

 

 

...

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

 

 

VA?AIGA KICKS OUT OF THE INSIDE CRADLE AT TWO AND THREE QUARTERS!

 

?Oh good god! Crow almost had it there, he just came out of no where with that reversal! I didn?t think he had it in after Va?aiga?s harassment.?

 

The Antichrist Superstar clutches at his head, the count was very close and his head still throbs, but he hastily focuses back on the task, and that task is the destruction of the Maori Badass and the retaining of his World Heavyweight title belt. The dazed form of Va?aiga is slowly getting back to his feet, and thinking quickly, Crow removes the chair that was lodged between the ropes in the corner and brings it to the center of the ring.

 

He sets it up off center by a foot... and steps up on top of it... the Maori Badass has risen to his feet, but is still slightly dazed... and unknowingly, he turns around into the waiting grasp of Crow! The Antichristian Phenomenon locks on a tight front face lock with his right arm... and jumps off the chair, swinging himself round to the left... and he lands his feet on the second rope...

 

...then he springboards off, kicks his legs out and continues swinging around... drives the Maori Badass? head into the chair! Crow just completed a three hundred and sixty-degree tornado DDT! COVER!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

.

 

 

..

 

 

...

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

?Ooooooooooohh!!! Axis, I don?t know who to root for in this match, but damn, I hope Crow gets some more offence like that in, cause that rocked!?

 

?Quite amazing too, considering that his head still seems to be bothering from that conchairto just a bit earlier.?

 

 

The Antichrist Superstar slams his hand against the canvas three times, trying to persuade the referee that it was a three, but soon, he gets up and eyes the chair the Maori?s head was driven into. It?s mangled and broken, thus Crow declares it useless and kicks it out of the ring on his way to the outside. On the outside, he walks over to the timekeeper?s table and shoves the poor son of a bitch off his chair, obviously to get at the chair underneath. After folding up the chair, he grabs another chair from the crowd and hurls them both into the ring where the Maori Badass is now starting to stir. Crow rolls back into the ring... and wrenches the Maori Badass to a standing base and backs him into the turnbuckle. The Antichristian Phenomenon lines him up... and thrusts a leg forward! ROUNDHOUSE KICK! The crowd moans as the sound of the devastating kick echoes through out the arena, and continue to moan as Crow unloads more vicious kicks to Va?aiga?s body!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE!

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

FIVE!

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

 

?Wooooooooooooo!?

 

 

And a chop for good measure!

 

?Crow?s giving some pain back to the Maori Badass now!?

 

Va?aiga is reeling from this attack and slumps his body against the turnbuckle whilst Crow grabs the chair he threw into the ring just before and sets it up a few feet away from Va?aiga. Crow backs up and grabs one of the chairs he threw in the ring and sets it up in the center of the ring, afterwards he grabs the other chair he threw into the ring and walks to the corner (opposite turnbuckle to Va?aiga)...

 

... He starts running across the ring! The Antichrist Superstar steps up on to the steel chair... jumps off and lifts the chair high in the air!

 

 

...

 

 

*THWACK!*

 

?OOOOOOOOOOOHHH!!?

 

?GOOD GOD WHAT A SICK CHAIR SHOT! This is amazing, King! Crow has managed to gain the advantage and hit a couple of BIG moves, question is, is it enough to put Va?aiga away!??

 

Crow throws the chair to the ground and thrusts his arms out in the crucifix pose, thinking that he has Va?aiga hurting... but no, in actual fact, whilst Crow has his back to him, the Maori Badass shakes his head and scowls... he has been reawakened by the chair shot!

 

?No guess not, Axis! Va?aiga isn?t going down! He?s back up, look in the ring, he?s starting to move out of the corner!?

 

... but no! Crow senses a disturbance in the force and spins around, thrusting his leg out and nailing Va?aiga in the stomach with a big roundhouse kick! The Maori Monster doubles over and this allows the Antichrist Superstar to apply a front face lock...

 

...AND DRIVE VA?AIGA?S HEAD INTO THE STEEL CHAIR WITH A DDT!

 

Va?aiga ain?t reawakening now, and Crow utilises this advantage to shift the monster into the perfect position... to receive a move off the top rope! A demonic smirk appears on the Antichristian Phenomenon?s face as an imaginary light bulb appears above his head... Crow has an idea, and this idea is chair-related (obviously). He folds up the chair sitting in the middle of the ring and ascends the turnbuckle... facing towards the crowd...

 

?We know what?s coming up, King! It?s time for the Evenflow Moonsault!?

 

Crow throws his arms out in the crucifix pose, his right arm wielding the folded steel chair! And within a split second, he brings the chair to his chest and holds it there with his arms..... AND JUMPS OFF!

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

CCHHAAAIIIRRRR EEEVEEENNFFFFLLOOOOOOWWWWWWWW MMOOOONNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

 

 

THE MAORI BADASS MOVES OUT OF THE WAY! HE MOVES OUT OF THE WAY AT THE LAST SECOND, ROLLING TOWARDS THE TURNBUCKLE AND AVOIDING THE MOONSAULT!

 

 

The Antichrist Superstar hits the canvas hard and lands painfully on the chair he was pressing against his stomach!

 

 

?HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!?

 

 

The crowd begins to cheer and scream more than ever previously heard in the Smartmarks Junior Leagues!

 

 

?Oh my god! Va?aiga moves out the way and Crow misses the Evenflow Moonsault! Both men are down and it seems in large amounts of pain...?

 

?Great move by Va?aiga! You see Axis that?s what you get for going up top! Especially when you?ve apparently had your skull broken! It?s just stupid, it?s not called high risk offence for nothing!?

 

 

The two men are down on the canvas, both of them clutching at various parts of the body, and trying to shake off the pain. Taking a moment?s rest to heal their wounds if you will... but unfortunately... referee Anthony Michael Hall wants to cut naptime short because he begins to start the ten count on both competitors.

 

 

?ONE!?

 

...Crow and Va?aiga both realise their predicament...

 

?TWO!?

 

...

 

?THREE!?

 

... the two men are beginning to stir...

 

?FOUR!?

 

...

 

?FIVE!?

 

...Crow clutches at his stomach as he crawls over to the ropes.

 

?SIX!?

 

...Va?aiga is also using the ropes to get back onto his feet...

 

?SEVEN!?

 

...Crow is halfway up...

 

?EIGHT!?

 

...

 

?NINE!?

 

 

AND THEY?RE BOTH UP!

 

 

Va?aiga and Crow lunge at each other and struggle in a collar and elbow tie up!

 

?And even after taking large amounts of damage, the two men STILL suck up the pain and continue on with desire!?

 

?Well, wouldn?t you if the World belt was the prize??

 

After a small struggle, the Maori?s power proves to be stronger and he eventually gains the advantage, spinning around and locking on a hammerlock. The Antichrist Superstar counters into a waistlock and pushes the monster forward into the ropes and rolls backward in an attempt to hit a roll up... but nooo! Va?aiga holds on to the ropes and leaves Crow to roll back on his own... yet he?s quickly up and dodges a huge Maori arm that was thrown out in a wild running clothesline! The Maori Badass manages to stop himself from running into the ropes and turns back around... but only to see a winged Crow running at him! ... noooo! Va?aiga ducks down and launches Crow up and over.... but Crow manages to land on the apron! Va?aiga hastily turns around, noticing the landing, and fires yet another clothesline... in which Crow yet again ducks under! The Maori Monster loses his balance and this allows Crow to grab a hold of the Maori?s head in a ¾ face lock... and drops down, stunning Va?aiga on the top rope! This causes Va?aiga to jettison off and stumble aimlessly towards the center of the ring... he turns around...

 

...but is plastered by a springboard plancha! The Antichrist Superstar spread his wings and nailed a picture perfect plancha! He holds for the cover...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

.

 

 

..

 

 

...

 

 

TWO!

 

 

.NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

VA?AIGA POWERS OUT AND BENCH PRESSES CROW OFF HIS BODY!

 

Both men rise simultaneously... but the Maori manages to sneak in first and knock the wind out of Crow with a toe kick! Front face lock applied and lifts Crow up...

 

...nooo! Crow swings out of the suplex and applies an inverted face lock on the way over, driving the back of the Maori?s head into the canvas with an inventive inverted DDT counter! The Antichrist Superstar floats over for the lateral press...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

.

 

 

..

 

 

...

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

..NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

?THE MAORI BADASS GETS A SHOULDER UP!?

 

Crow questions the referee?s count for a split second, but quickly turns his attention back to the Maori man lying on the floor. He places a folded chair in the middle of the ring, and wrenches Va?aiga back to a standing base... Irish whip into the corner and the Maori stumbles out...

 

...only to have his arms captured under Crow?s arm pits! The Antichristian Phenomenon screams out as he heaves the Maori Badass up and over! Nooooo! Crow can?t get Va?aiga over, he doesn?t have the strength to throw a two hundred and eighty five pound man over for such a move! Crow doesn?t get the message and tries one more time but this time the Maori stands his ground and restricts the Antichrist Superstar from even lifting him...

 

*CRACK!*

 

?Oooooooooooooooooooh!?

 

The Maori Badass escapes from the move the simplest way... by viciously cracking his head against Crow?s forehead! The nasty head BUTT causes Crow to relinquish his arm capture and stumble back a few steps... following up, Va?aiga grabs behind Crow?s knees, lifts him up and sits him on the turnbuckle. Va?aiga applies a front face lock... but Crow pokes the Maori in the eye! Taking the monster off guard, the Antichrist Superstar applies a front face lock of his own, jumps and swings around for the Murderous DDT!

 

... NOOOOO! The Maori Monster manages to hold Crow up in the air and stop his head from being driven into the canvas! He?s grounded Crow, and quickly grabs around the waist...

 

 

.

 

 

..

 

 

...

 

 

AND THROWS HIM ONTO THE CANVAS WITH A HUGE SPINEBUSTER ON TO THE CHAIR IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RING!!

 

?GOOD GOD! COMMIE! NOT ONE! VA?AIGA JUST COUNTERED THE SWINGING DDT INTO A MASSIVE SPINEBUSTER! COVER!!?

 

 

ONE!

 

 

.

 

 

..

 

 

...

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

TTTHHHHHHHRRRRRRRNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

THE ANTICHRIST SUPERSTAR KICKS OUT! AT THE VERY LAST SECOND HE KICKED OUT! SOMEHOW HE KICKED OUT!

 

 

The Maori Badass can?t believe it, and he?s not quiet in his contempt about the count, as he?s now abusing the referee in his so simple mongrel tongue!

 

?THAT WAS THREE! COUNT FASTER OR I?LL KNOCK YOUR TEETH SO FAR DOWN YOUR THROAT YOU CAN CHEW OUT YOUR OWN ASS!?

 

Referee Anthony Michael Hall begs off the Maori Badass as he?s pressed into the corner, Va?aiga has let is emotions get the best of him, and now Crow is getting valuable recovery time. Va?aiga turns his attention back to the Antichristian Phenomenon... he wrenches him up to a standing base by the blacken locks and scoops him up!

 

 

...

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOO! Crow weasels his way out of the scoop and lands behind Maori! Va?aiga turns around as fast as he can but Crow...

 

 

.

 

 

..

 

 

...

 

 

FRONT FACE LOCK!!!

 

 

...

 

 

GRAB OF THE TIGHTS!

 

 

...

 

 

A HEAVE UP!

 

 

...

 

 

..

 

 

.

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

THE MAORI MONSTER FLAILS HIS LEGS AROUND IN THE AIR ON THE WAY UP AND CROW JUST... CAN?T... GET... HIM... OVER!

 

 

Va?aiga grounds himself and uses his free arm to throw vicious punches to Crow?s stomach... and he?s broken free from the grip of the front face lock! ...And he throws a mind-boggling punch to Crow?s face! The Antichrist Superstar is thrown back against the ropes, the force of the punch was phenomenal and Crow is now starting to bleed from the mouth. The Maori Badass quickly picks up the folded chair in the middle of the ring and sets it up in that position of the ring... he backs up...

 

...and charges at Crow! But wait, Crow was playing possum... and leaps forward!

 

 

.

 

 

..

 

 

...

 

 

VA?AIGA STEPS UP ONTO THE CHAIR!

 

 

...

 

 

CROW GRABS VA?AIGA IN A FRONT FACE LOCK!

 

 

...

 

 

VA?AIGA BUNCHES HIS LEGS AND JUMPS!

 

 

...

 

 

AND CROW LIFTS AT THE SAME TIME!!

 

 

...

 

 

..

 

 

.

 

 

SSNNNAAAPPPP NNNAAATTTUUURRRAAAALLL BBBOOORRRNNN CCCHHHAAOOOOSSSS!!!

 

?GOOD GOD I?M NOT A COMMIE! CROW JUST USED VA?AIGA?S MOMENTUM TO SNAP HIM OVER IN THE NATURAL BORN CHAOS!?

 

COVER!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

.

 

 

..

 

 

...

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

..

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

TTTTTHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

 

 

 

*DING! DING! DING!*

 

 

?The winner of this bout... and STILL the SJL World HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION... CCCCCCRRRRROOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!?

 

The crowd is on their feet for both competitors and the cheers are almost deafening as Crow is helped to his feet by referee Anthony Michael Hall and has his arm raised. Va?aiga is being helped out of the ring by EMTs... but suddenly...

 

...

 

Darkness falls upon the arena!

 

...

 

?What the hell!?

 

...

 

After a few seconds, the lights come back on...

 

 

.

 

 

..

 

 

...

 

 

IT?S NATASHA! SHE?S BACK!

 

Crow turns his head and sees the sexy women in the ring... he grits his teeth and walks over to the corner in which she stands.

 

 

...

 

 

BUT WAIT! WHO?S THAT IN THE CROWD!

 

 

...

 

 

..

 

 

.

 

 

IT?S SPIKE JENKINS! IT?S THE KING OF THE WORLD! HE HOPS THE RAILING AND SLIDES INTO THE RING WIELDING A STEEL CHAIR!

 

 

...

 

 

AND HE BASHES CROW ACROSS THE BACK WITH THE CHAIR!

 

 

The Antichrist Superstar falls to a knee and gets hit again by Spike! And again! And again! And again! Crow falls to the ground in a slump and is seemingly unconscious, his body has taken a huge beating tonight and this didn?t help. Natasha adds insult to injury by stepping on Crow?s back with her high heels and passionately kissing Spike Jenkins, and thus causes an eruption of boos from the crowd. The two eventually stop locking lips... and Spike Jenkins grabs Crow?s world title belt! He ascends the turnbuckle and stands on top of it, holding the belt high, as if it was his...

 

Fade out to SJL logo from this visual.

 

 

Smartmarks Junior Leagues © 2003

[Guest Longdogger_Pete]

SUMMARY!

 

Grappler retains the TV title against Tim Dillon!

 

New European champ! Who is it? Read the show!

 

Chris Trepanier debuts with a win over Manson!

 

Who left Metal with the World title? Who made a shocking return to the SJL? Read the show! And no, I'm not editing out all the question marks. I'm too lazy.