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Guest Thoth

SJL Wrath June 29 2003

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Guest Thoth

WHAMMY~!

 

Pyro explodes everywhere in Tampa as the home of the Tampa Bay Lightning is ELECTRIC, PUN INTENDED! SJL Wrath is live on the air on this lovely Sunday, the 29th day of June, year two-thousand and three! After the opening array of Wrathful pyrotechnics finishes, the crowd is scanned, showing signs reflecting the current action-packed state of the Smarks Junior League!

 

“SPIKE CHOKES AGAIN!”

 

“Aecas is Unstoppable!”

 

“DURAN SUX!”

 

“I Bite My Thumb at Thee!”

 

And finally, a row of eight people hold up a “G-R-A-P-P-L-E-R” one-letter-per-person sign, and the camera focuses on that for a bit before heading to the announce table to meet the commentators for Wrath, Axis and Suicide King.

 

“Hello everyone, and welcome to another edition of SJL Wrath!” bellows Axis, above the raucous Florida crowd, “And what a show we have for you tonight! We have the European Title defended in a triple threat situation; a fatal-four way for the number one contendership…and speaking of that, the biggest news in the Smarks Junior League this week is the fact that we have a NEW SJL World Heavyweight Champion!”

 

“And he got completely lucky, too,” grumbles the Suicide King, obviously upset about the current Champion, “Charlie Matthews is lucky that the referee had something against Spike, or that match wouldn’t have ended so abruptly and Spike would’ve been the champion! I mean, honestly, how the hell does Grappler deserve the World Title?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know, King,” replies Axis, “but maybe it had something to do with the fact that he’s only lost twice in his SJL career, winning every other title in the process?”

 

“Whatever,” King says, rolling his eyes, “let’s just get these opening ‘festivities’ out of the way so I can see a real man win a match, like John Duran tonight.”

 

As if on cue, the house lights in the arena dim, and the Tampa crowd stands on their collective feet expecting the entrance of the SJL Champion. What they don’t expect are the soothing words of an Australian gothic singing karaoke…

 

“YOUR LOVE IS A BAAAAAAAAD MEDICINE…Bad medicine is what I need, whoa whoa whoa…”

 

The crowd begins to both laugh and cheer at the music selection, but as Charlie “Grappler” Matthews appears at the top of the ramp clad in black workout pants and a black and white warm-up jacket with the SJL World Heavyweight Championship strapped snugly to his waist, the ovation nearly blows the roof off of the arena. Matthews surveys the crowd with a big grin as he continues to walk down the ramp, slapping some fans’ hands as he walks up the ring steps and enters between the middle and top ropes. Grappler removes the belt from his waist and hoists it into the air with both hands, and the ovation, surprisingly, gets even louder as he nods to the crowd. Charlie rests the belt on his left shoulder as he grabs a microphone with his right hand. He soaks in the cheers of the crowd, and just as he lifts the microphone to his lips, a loud “Grapp – ler!” chant breaks out across the Ice Palace, and Charlie drops the microphone, shaking his head in disbelief.

 

“Well, these fans are certainly showing their appreciation for Charlie Matthews, and it’s well earned,” says Axis, “as I don’t think I’ve seen anyone dominate the SJL quite like Grappler has.”

 

“Oh, please,” King says, obviously annoyed, “just talk and get it over with, you fool. The only thing he SHOULD be doing tonight is relinquishing the Title to Spike Jenkins, who SHOULD be Champion, or at least get a rematch.”

 

Matthews holds his left hand in the air, trying to silence the crowd as he brings the microphone to his mouth again.

 

“Damn, this feels good!” The first words out of Charlie’s mouth ignite another ovation for the champion, as he surveys the crowd, smiling. “You know, back when I joined the SJL in mid-April, I really didn’t think I had a chance. You heard me. I saw the competition offered here and I really thought I was going to wallow around in the lower card forever. Sure, I won my first match against Leo Breslin, which was, in fact, on Wrath, but any confidence I gained from that was quickly shattered next week, when I lost to the Red Rage, Viktor Tarakanov in a no-DQ match. Then came Bringing the Funk.”

 

Grappler paces around the ring, adjusting the belt on his shoulder before talking again.

 

“I triumphed over three guys, including John Duran, in what most people considered an upset. I took it in stride and defended my TV Title as much as I could. I guess you could say I underestimated Leo Breslin. I mean, when you defeat a guy four times, your ego inflates. But a guy like Leo Breslin is one tough son of a bitch, a guy that can surprise you at any instant and steal a win. And that’s what he did in Japan; he used his intelligence to beat me. That’s when the seeds started to be planted.

 

“You see, after that match, I showed my respect to Leo Breslin, and deservedly so. We fought one damn good match, and even in loss I wasn’t ashamed. But that’s where James Matheson comes in.” The crowd immediately boos at the mention of Grappler’s former manager, and the champion nods before speaking again, “Yeah, him. For whatever reason, Matheson was only focused on winning. He didn’t think I should have any allies, he didn’t think I should fight fairly. He thought I should be the dirtiest scumbag in the SJL, because, according to him, that’s what I needed to do to succeed. Well, Matheson, wherever you are, look at me now. Without your help, I won the European Championship, defended it for weeks on end, won a six-man elimination match for the number one contendership, and then went on to beat Hollywood Spike Jenkins for the World Heavyweight Championship! So James Matheson…how do you like it?” Charlie says these last words staring right into the camera, before walking away from it and pacing around the ring again.

 

“See, now I’m finally where I belong, at the top of the mountain. In my opinion, the best is still yet to come. There’s one man I still think I have to settle the score with. That man’s name…is John Duran.” Once again, a wave of jeers comes over the crowd at the mention of the Sinner. “Yeah, John Duran; a guy I’ve defeated a few times…but I’ve got to be honest: he’s the toughest challenge I’ve *ever* faced so far in my career, and will continue to be until I can convince myself that I can defeat him. He’s got this new ‘Sinner’ attitude, and you know what? I hope it works. I *want* to see you win that number one contenders’ match tonight, John Duran. I want to see you win that so we can have a match at Wrathapalooza. But we’ll get to that when the time comes. Now, about-“

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIT JUST A MINUTE!!!!!!!”

 

Charlie Matthews is inexplicably cut off by a shrilly, high-pitched voice, and the crowd immediately bursts into jeers. The camera finally shows what the crowd is booing at, as a man clad in a bright purple suit trudges out of the curtain.

 

“YES!” shouts Suicide King excitedly, “JAMES MATHESON IS BACK!”

 

“How did I know you’d be excited to see him,” Axis says, an unhappy tone in his voice, “You’re probably the only one welcoming him back.”

 

Charlie’s jaw drops in disbelief as the flamboyant manager struts into the ring with a microphone in hand. He walks right up in front of Grappler, ignoring the crowd’s boos as he continues to speak.

 

“Charlie, baby, how’s it going? Remember me? Heh, heh…of course you do. I’d just like to say, wow, brother, you have been DOMINANT lately! I mean, seriously, you’re the Champion! Congratulations! What a wrestler you’ve evolved into, Charlie! Wow, I mean, you’re the man! I just want-“ Matheson is shut down, however, as Matthews puts his big left paw right in front of James’ face, stopping him from talking anymore. The crowd cheers, as Charlie brings his microphone up again.

 

“James Matheson. Wasn’t I just talking about you? Didn’t you HEAR what I thought about you? I thought I made it quite obvious that you are UNWELCOME anywhere near me. I know what you’re trying to do; you want to leech onto me and ride me as your meal ticket again. Guess what, Matheson? I’ve smartened up; I know what I have to do to win in the SJL, and I haven’t lost since. I don’t NEED you *at all*. So before I have to physically impose my will on you, would you kindly LEAVE THE GODDAMN RING?!” The last words of Matthews reverberate off the walls of the Ice Palace as the crowd begins cheering once again. Matheson looks both shocked and hurt as he stumbles to find a reply.

 

“But…but…Charlie, we were such a force together, such a team! I’m such a valuable resource to you, I mean, I’m a strategist in and out of that wrestling ring! Together we will be unstoppable! Together we-AUGH!”

 

As Matheson utters the next word, Grappler wraps his left paw around James’ throat, choking the life out of him, and growling at his former manager again!

 

“READ MY LIPS. You will leave this ring, NOW. I don’t WANT you, I don’t *NEED* you, now get the HELL out before I have to seriously HURT you!” Over the crowd, a “Na-na-na-na, Na-na-na-na, Hey hey hey, Good bye!” chant begins, as Matheson is sweating bullets. Matthews forcefully shoves Matheson against the ropes, before speaking again. “You hear them, James. Get the hell out.”

 

Slowly, but surely, Charlie’s former manager backs up, stepping between the ropes and exiting the ring. He tries one last plea, but Matthews storms up to him, simply glaring at him. Intimidated, Matheson begins slowly backing up the entry way, as Grappler stands against the ropes, looking back at him.

 

“Good riddance!” Axis says, overjoyed. “It looks like Grappler really has smartened up, realizing he doesn’t need that leech anymore!”

 

“What are you talking about? That was the biggest mistake of his career,” rebuts Suicide King, “James Matheson is a valuable asset…Grappler could’ve been unstoppable!”

 

Charlie continues to watch as Matheson dejectedly walks backstage, but what he doesn’t see is a figure run in from the crowd, sliding in the ring and charging at the back of Grappler…extending his arm out and nailing Matthews right in the back of the neck, causing him to flip all the way out of the ring and to the floor!

 

IT’S JOHN DURAN!

 

The crowd nearly riots, as John Duran looks at the fallen Grappler from the ring, evilly. The Sinner climbs out of the ring and walks a bit up the ramp, as Matthews pulls himself up on the apron, facing his foe. Duran then turns around and charges with his shoulder down, running right into Charlie and spearing him into the ring apron! The crowd lets out a loud “Ooooh!” at the impact, as Charlie screams in pain.

 

“No! What a bastard John Duran is!” says an angry Axis, “He just blindsided the champion, and now he’s having his way with him!”

 

“Oh, it’s much more than that,” Suicide King replies, a tinge of evil in his voice, “he’s showing Grappler exactly what to expect come Wrathapalooza.”

 

The Sinner then searches under the ring…and produces a solid steel chair. Brandishing it, Duran lifts it above his head………and BRINGS IT DOWN HARD ACROSS CHARLIE’S HEAD!

 

*CRACK*

 

“Ooh!”

 

Grappler doesn’t fall, however, as he is leaning against the ring apron, but he has a glazed-over look in his eye. John Duran throws the chair to the ground forcefully, and he drags Charlie off of the apron. He then wraps his hand around Matthews’ throat, and using his free hand for support, he lifts Grappler off the floor and into the air, slamming him down across the chair, producing a loud THUD!

 

“OH MY GOD!” shouts Axis, audibly concerned about Matthews’ health, “CHOKSLAM ON THE CHAIR, ON THE OUTSIDE OF THE RING!”

 

“Yes!” says Suicide King, both proud of John Duran and trying to get under Axis’ skin, “What an amazing move by John Duran!

 

Duran stares at Grappler for a minute, and then walks to the ring, where he sees the SJL Heavyweight Championship sprawled on the mat. The Sinner picks it up and walks back over to the fallen Matthews. Duran throws the belt down at the champion, and begins walking to the back as Drowning Pool’s “Sinner” plays over the Ice Palace, and the fans show their hatred.

 

“Help, someone, anyone!” screams Axis, “Grappler may be seriously hurt after that beating…goddamn you, John Duran, you son of a bitch! I hope you’re happy!”

 

“Of course he is!” says Suicide King with delight, “and don’t forget, folks, while that lug is escorted to the hospital, or morgue, SJL Wrath is just beginning! We’ve got two new kids on the block, and up next they’ll fight and stuff! Isn’t that grand? Don’t miss anything!”

 

The camera focuses on the destroyed heap of the SJL Champion as SJL Wrath fades to a commercial break.

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Guest Thoth

Axis: Ladies and Gentleman, welcome back to Wrath! What a stacked card we have for you tonight including three debuts! We will decide the #1 Contender for the Television Title, the European Title is on the line and we will decide who faces Charlie "Grappler" Matthews for his World Title at Wrathapalooza tonight!

 

King: That's right Axis and don’t forget about the 2 No Strings Attached matches pitting Aecas against Syndicate and Scott Solomon against Manson.

 

Axis: We have a great night line up for you folks and…

 

King: I'm being told that our first match is about to get underway. Let the action begin!

 

Axis: Indeed King, this should be a great contest between two newcomers to the Smarks Junior League. Our first of 2 rookie matches here tonight.

 

Funyon: Making his way to the ring from Lexington, Tennessee. Weighing in at 210 pounds, Dooooooug Siiiiiiiiiiiienkenwiiiiiiiczzzzzz

 

The crowd begins murmuring and suddenly begins to boo as Sien's theme hits. He walks out, nose up in his usual air of defiance concerning the fans as he makes his way up the ring steps. He calmly enters the ring and walks to the corner, placing both hands on his hips as he waits for his opponent. The crowd begins chanting "Jackass" at Doug for his upper class mannerisms.

 

Axis: Doug is hoping to make his skills shown tonight and was none too pleased at losing to Craig McLennan last week.

 

King: Of course he wasn't happy Axis I mean McLennan's a pyromaniac.

 

Axis frowns at the comment as the attention is turned back to the ring announcer.

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentleman, making his way to the ring accompanied by Janet, from Dublin, Ireland weighing in at 220 pounds, Dannyyyyyyy Coooooooooooooonkliiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnn!

 

The crowd lets out a decent cheer at this newcomer as "Danny Boy" by Off Kilter strikes up. Danny walks out onto the ramp, raising both arms into the air as Janet walks behind him handing out plastic clovers to the fans. Danny slides into the ring and climbs onto the 2nd turnbuckle, smiling wide at his fans before blowing a great big kiss.

 

Axis: Solid reception for the Irish newcomer, Danny Conklin tonight.

 

King: Oh please, this guy already makes me sick and those things aren’t even real clovers!

 

Axis: Oh come on King, get over yourself for once. Look at that, Doug just nailed Danny before the bell!

 

King: Serves Danny right for taking his eyes off his opponent.

 

Axis: You sicken me King.

 

King: Oh hush Axis, it’s not like you don’t sicken me either.

 

Doug is busy wailing on Danny with hard double axe handles in the corner. Doug spins Danny around and nails a couple hard chops to the chest before kicking him repeatedly in the ribs, sending Danny down on his rump. Doug grins as he grabs Danny’s shirt, tearing it off Danny and wraps it once in his hands and slides out of the ring before wrapping it tightly around Danny’s throat. Danny is busy clutching at the shirt, trying to get some oxygen as Doug laughs, pulling tighter and pressing his foot against the ring apron to add some leverage.

 

1……..

 

2………

 

3………..

 

4……..

 

5..

 

Doug breaks the hold but smiles as he begins to grab the shirt again but the referee tears it away from Doug to a nice pop. Doug glares at the referee and begins to jaw with a couple ringside fans.

 

Axis: What the hell is Doug thinking, using a shirt for a weapon? The kid could barely breathe!

 

King: It’s an old veteran move Axis.

 

Axis: I’d call it cheating myself.

 

King: You’re just jealous Danny isn’t getting off to a good start.

 

Doug rolls back into the ring and picks up Danny. Doug whips Danny hard into the corner as Danny hits, back first falling to his knees. Doug walks up and picks up Danny, hitting a few European uppercuts knocking Danny back against the turnbuckle. Doug goes to whip Danny into the opposing turnbuckle but Danny stops in his tracks and locks a headlock onto Doug! Doug presses Danny against the ropes and tries to throw him off but Danny manages to keep the headlock on as Doug is getting a little frustrated.

 

Axis: Danny is trying to keep Doug on the mat it seems.

 

King: This is boring crap Axis, come on do something!

 

Axis: Oh shut up King, you just forgot what it takes to appreciate a good match.

 

King: You little sonofa…

 

Both men are in the middle of the ring as Doug manages to lift Danny up and drop him hard on his upper back with a backdrop, able to reverse the move. Chants of “Let’s go Danny” begin to ring out as Doug stomps away at Danny on the mat. Doug walks back a bit and nails Danny in the forehead with a knee drop reminiscent of William Regal. Doug makes a casual cover, not even bothering to cover the chest with his own.

 

1……

 

Danny kicks out easily. Doug merely grins and picks up Danny, quickly snapmaring him back to the mat and sizing up, before nailing an extremely hard kick to Danny’s upper back! Danny lets out a loud grunt of pain as he falls to the mat in obvious pain. Doug lifts up Danny, looking for a gut wrench suplex to further work the back but Danny manages to reverse that with a back body drop sending Doug down to the mat. Danny hits a leg drop and makes the cover, hooking the leg.

 

1……

 

 

2..

 

Doug kicks out, still fresh from being on the offensive. Danny locks on a chin lock in the ring to try and regain his composure while keeping on the attack.

 

Axis: Danny slowing down the pace and trying to get back in the game now.

 

King: Well, Danny better hope he doesn’t make a mistake because Doug is quite capable of taking advantage.

 

Axis: No doubt about that King.

 

Doug makes it to his feet and hits a few elbows to the mid-section. Doug bounces off the ropes, ducking beneath a leapfrog from Danny as Danny bends down for a back body drop but gets telegraphed with a swinging neck breaker from Doug. Both men lie on the mat, trying to catch their breath.

 

1…….

 

2……..

 

3……..

 

4……..

 

Doug makes it to his feet first but Danny blocks a right hand, nailing Doug hard in the jaw. Doug responds with a hard shot of his own to Danny’s jaw as Danny grins and tastes the blood dripping from his bottom lip with his tongue. Danny gives a thumbs up as Doug charges forward however Danny sidesteps him and nails a flipping dropkick, sending Doug into the corner chest first. Danny raises both arms into the air to a big pop!

 

Axis: Danny obviously raised to use his fists and taking on an Irish man in a fistfight is a lose-lose situation.

 

King: Danny’s a drunk and should be thrown in jail. Fighting in a public place…come on now.

 

Axis: Oh….just shut up King!

 

Danny nails some right hands in the corner on Doug and seats himself on the top turnbuckle. He slaps Doug hard across the face and locks Doug in a front face lock, Tornado DDT by Conklin! Doug hit his head square into the mat. Danny making the cover and hooking the leg.

 

1……

 

 

2……….

 

 

3….no!!

 

Doug manages to kick out at the last minute, causing a groan from the crowd. Danny picks up Doug and sets him up for a Russian leg sweep, smoothly executing it with precision as Doug smacks the back of his head against the mat. Danny stares at the corner and walks up, before placing his feet on the 2nd turnbuckle and it looks like Danny’s going to the top.

 

Axis: Looks like Danny’s headed to the top rope. Could we see his Highlight finisher?

 

King: Whatever we see Axis, it’s high risk for a reason.

 

As if on cue, Danny leaps off looking for a flying elbow drop however Doug rolls out of the way, causing Danny to smack his elbow hard on the mat. Danny clutches at his arm in pain as Doug slowly manages to stumble to his feet in the corner. Doug surveys what happened and moves in towards Danny. Doug smiles as he crouches over Danny and delivers a series of hard slaps to his cheekbone!

 

Axis: What a vile man Doug Sienkenwicz is! How despicable…

 

King: All’s fair in love and war Axis and this right here is war.

 

Axis: Even so, Doug should at least respect his damn opponent.

 

Doug lifts up Danny and sets him up in a front face lock before draping Danny’s arm across his own shoulders. Doug taps his foot once on the mat in preparation and snaps Danny over with a snap suplex, causing Danny to land hard on his back. Doug continues to target Danny’s back as he nails a couple of stomps and raises both arms into the air, receiving a large “Doug sucks” chant to a grin.

 

Axis: The fans making it clear whom they want to win this match.

 

King: The fans couldn’t see that Doug is a star if Doug had a neon sign that read star flashing over him.

 

Doug lifts up Danny and whips him towards the ropes. Danny bounces back as Doug catches Danny on his back and drops hard with a Samoan drop, planting Danny on the mat. Danny writhes in pain as Doug smiles, making another lazy cover by draping his back across Danny’s chest.

 

1……..

 

 

2…….

 

 

Danny easily gets the shoulder up as Doug just sighs and gets up, once more stomping away at Danny’s ribs.

 

Axis: My god, could this man sicken me anymore then he already has.

 

King: Doug has it in the bag Axis, it’s in due time that Danny will give up.

 

Doug lifts Danny up and connects with a gut wrench suplex, continuing the work on Danny’s back. Doug grabs Danny’s arms and legs and locks Danny in a bow and arrow submission!

 

Axis: Doug pulling out all the works, as this is quite the unconventional move concerning his repertoire.

 

King: Win however you must Axis and use whatever you can.

 

Axis: Only a rat like you would say something that wrong.

 

King: I may be a rat Axis but at least I’m still better then you.

 

Axis: Better my ass….

 

Doug continues to wrench as Danny screams in pain, obviously nowhere to go. Doug laughs, wrenching harder and harder as the referee leans in, asking Danny over and over if he gives up. Danny continues shaking his head and screaming “no!” as Doug finally lets go, only to wrap both hands around Danny’s throat in an attempt to choke the life out of him.

 

1…..

 

2…...

 

3…..

 

4…..

 

5

 

Doug once again breaks the hold as the referee gets in Doug’s face and reprimands him for his actions but Doug merely grins and nails Danny with a hard kick to the face, causing his bottom lip to split as blood pours down Danny’s chin. Chants of “Danny” begin to ring out from the crowd as Doug nails a couple stomps to the chest. Doug heads towards the corner and perches himself onto the top turnbuckle. Danny groggily stumbles to his feet and turns around to eat a missile dropkick from Doug! Doug makes the cover, this time hooking the near leg.

 

1………

 

 

2……….

 

 

3….!

 

Wait, the referee signals that Danny got his shoulder up at the last second!! The crowd is now on their feet, chanting “Let’s go Danny” as Doug is irate, thinking he had the match won and is now arguing with the referee.

 

Axis: My god, what a near fall that was.

 

King: Danny paid the referee off! Doug had the match won fair & square.

 

Axis: Oh shut up King, Danny has heart and that’s why Doug hasn’t been able to put this kid away.

 

Danny is up on his feet as the crowd explodes in cheers. Doug however is still arguing with the referee, Danny leaps onto Doug’s shoulders and there’s a victory roll! Danny holds the legs tightly!!

 

1…….

 

 

2……..

 

 

3…no!!!!

 

Doug manages to kick out at 2.99999! Danny quickly gets to his feet as Doug charges forward but Danny leapfrogs over Doug. Doug bounces off the ropes, looking for a clothesline but Danny ducks it. Danny with a kick to the mid-section but Doug catches it and also catches an enziguiri right to the back of his head! Danny crawls over and makes the cover.

 

1……

 

 

2…….

 

 

Kick out!

 

Axis: My what a series of near falls for Danny Conklin.

 

King: Danny’s back is killing him. He won’t keep up this charade for long.

 

Danny tries for a front dropkick but Doug catches Danny’s legs and slingshots him hard into the corner! Doug nails Danny with a charging corner lariat, crushing Danny chest first against the turnbuckles. Doug tosses Danny to the mat and begins to climb to the top rope. Doug raises both arms into the air in a Y position and looks at his right hand, balling it into a fist. Doug looks at his left hand as he pounds his right first tightly into his left hand. Chants of “You suck” ring out as well as loud Boos.

 

Axis: It looks like Doug is going to attempt the Stop Sien!

 

King: If he hits this, it’s all over Axis.

 

Doug looks down and leaps off, flying through the air. His elbow is poised as he’s nearing Danny. It connects! Nailing Danny flush in the face, causing a puddle of blood to form around Danny’s left cheek. Doug quickly makes the cover, hooking the leg!

 

1………..

 

 

2……….

 

 

3!

 

Axis: Good god! Somehow, Danny managed to kick out!!

 

King: What? How in the hell did Danny do that?

 

Axis: This kid is proving himself to the masses right now as a true fighter!

 

Doug is absolutely irate, kicking the ropes, screaming at fans and the referee. Doug walks over and lifts up Danny. Doug locks up Danny for the Sien of the Times but Danny elbows Doug hard in the chin as Doug breaks the hold! Danny with consecutive right hands as Doug staggers against the ropes! Danny whips Doug hard into the ropes and catches Doug with a kick to the stomach, piledriver! Danny climbs out onto the apron, he leaps, spring boarding off the ropes and connecting with a leg drop!

 

Axis: There’s the Thrice Cloved!! Danny is hooking the leg now!

 

King: Come on Doug kick out!

 

The crowd chants along with the count!

 

1……..

 

 

2……..

 

 

3…no, Doug manages to kick out!

 

The crowd is on their feet now, cheering every move. Danny gets up and walks to the turnbuckle. Danny rests his head on the top turnbuckle, quickly catching his breathe before making his way up. Danny looks over the crowd as they cheer wildly.

 

Axis: Could it be King?

 

King: Looks like it, there it is!

 

Danny leaps off the top, looking for a shooting star press however Doug rolls out of the way. Doug slowly makes it to his feet and picks up Danny. Doug nails Danny with the Sien of the Times!! Danny just got planted hard!

 

Axis: Good god, Doug moves out of the way of the Highlight and nails Danny with the Sien of the Times!

 

King: It’s all over Axis, Doug has this match won!

 

1……..

 

 

2…….

 

 

3……!!!

 

King: Doug wins Axis!

 

Axis: No he doesn’t King, no he doesn’t! The referee is signaling that Danny kicked out!!!

 

King: What? The referee’s cheating!

 

Axis: No he isn’t King! You’re just mad that Doug can’t put away Danny!

 

King: You know Doug’s the better wrestler Axis.

 

Axis: Well so far Doug hasn’t been able to prove that!

 

Doug is practically on the verge of tears now as he gets to his feet. He picks up a weak Danny who’s still bleeding from his busted lip. He sets Danny up for another Sien of the Times but Danny manages to duck out of it and Danny nails Doug with such a hard right hand that it must’ve broken his jaw! Danny climbs onto the apron, waiting as Doug stumbles to his feet nearly out of it. Danny with a springboard bulldog!! Danny staggers towards the turnbuckle and climbs to the top, occasionally pausing due to his back pain. Danny is on the top turnbuckle now; he leaps off flying through the air, Highlight!! Danny connects, chest to chest with Doug! Danny immediately rolls off of Doug however, clutching his ribs in pain, as Doug lies motionless.

 

Axis: It’s all over King!

 

King: Not until the referee says so Axis!

 

Both men are on the mat. Danny clutches at his ribs from the move. Danny glances at Doug who looks to be out like a light. Danny slowly crawls over and makes the cover. Danny can barely hook the leg as that Highlight took all the strength out of him. The referee slowly moves into position. The referee is down, ready to make the count now! The crowd is on their feet, cheering and chanting with the referee’s count.

 

1………

 

 

2……….

 

 

3!!!!

 

Axis: My god, what a match up! Danny Conklin picks up the victory with his Highlight finishing move and I have to say, hats off to Doug Sienkenwicz for putting up a hell of a fight.

 

King: That just reeked of cheating Axis! Danny obviously had the referee in his pocket the whole match!

 

Axis: Oh admit it King, the better man won tonight!

Edited by Thoth

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Guest Thoth

Backstage, Ben Hardy is standing with John Duran, who immediately draws heat after his earlier attack on the new SJL World Champion Charlie Matthews.

 

Hardy: "John Duran, we just received word that Charlie Matthews has been taken to the hospital to have his back checked out--"

 

Duran: "Well that's excellent news!"

 

Hardy: "Why though? Why the sudden spurt of violence?"

 

Duran: "Any fool can ask that question, Benny, but only the smart ones, the ones with sharp minds can answer it. Which is why I decided to grace you with my presence. Why all of the 'violence'? Because that man has beaten me in the ring time after time after time. I couldn't stand to see him in that ring with that belt. That belt should be MINE, damnit!"

 

Hardy: "Is that all?"

 

Duran: "That's a stupid question, but no, that isn't all. I was getting warmed up for my match! You see, I'm going to go out in front of all those dumb Florida voters and make sure that there aren't any pregnant chads, that they make sure to vote for ME, John Duran, as the next SJL Champion."

 

Hardy: "Wait, was that a challenge to the champion Charlie Matthews?"

 

Duran: "Do you have wax in your ears, boy? Who says I have to beat that fat bastard Matthews to get that title? Besides, do you think he could hear that challenge in the ambulance on the way to the hospital?"

 

Duran laughs, pausing for a moment.

 

Duran: "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a main event to win."

 

Hardy: "There you have it folks, John Duran, one of the four combatants in tonight's main event!"

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Guest Thoth

As we return from commercial, the camera scans the excited Tampa crowd, swinging around the Ice Palace, the camera catches a handful of signs before focusing on the Smarktron as the voices of Axis and Suicide King kick back in.

 

Axis: Welcome back to Wrath! Our second match tonight is between a couple of SJL rookies, Bloodshed and Todd Royal. Both of these guys have impressive resumes, and both should be fine additions to the SJL roster!

King: Yeah, we’ll see. Neither of these guys have proved anything yet, so they both have the task of living up to MY standards if they want any chance of succeeding here.

Axis: Yep, that’s what this match if for, to see if they can live up to YOUR qualifications…geez. Both of these guys could make themselves a name here tonight, and we’re about to see what happens…

 

With that, the lights go down and Seven Nations’ “God” begins to play over the sound system. The crowd gets to their feet as smoke begins to roll and Bloodshed appears in the entrance way. His hair dropped over his face, he begins to stalk towards the ring as the crowd begins to cheer.

 

Funyon: From Las Vegas, Nevada- weighing in at 225 lbs….This is Bloodshed!

 

Bloodshed climbs to the top rope and throws his head back, revealing his scarred forehead as a white spotlight illuminates him. The rookie drops into the ring and soaks up the applause of the crowd.

 

King: Look at that guy’s forehead! He looks like he got a skin graft from Abdullah the Butcher! That doesn’t seem too safe…

Axis: Just like you- always concerned with the safety of others.

King: I just don’t want to look at that anymore, he looks like he stuck prime rib to his skull and put his head in a piranha tank.

Axis: THAT’S pleasant…

 

Suddenly, the lights go down again, and a spotlight falls from the sky, illuminating the entrance way. A chorus of soft voices sings “aaaaawwww” before blue and white strobe lights fill the arena and Motley Crue’s “Livewire” blares through the arena.

 

Funyon: And his opponent…Accompanied to ringside by Megan Skye…From San Diego, California- weighing 235 lbs…. Todd Royal!

 

A small, cut brunette parts the curtain and walks the aisle, wearing a pink halter-top with “TODDESS” scrawled on it, and a black mini skirt. She gestures to the entrance way, and out walks Todd Royal- clad in a pair of black sunglasses and a black vest that reads “Todd Bless You”. He steps in the ring as the crowd begins to boo the newcomer.

 

Axis: This guy seems a bit full of himself, and the fans seem to be responding to his ego.

 

King: Eh, these fans have NEVER shown any taste. Hell, they boo ME!

 

In the ring, referee Ced Ordonez checks the boots of both competitors for foreign objects. After he is finished, Royal gets a look of disgust on his face and asks Skye for a towel to wipe his boots of the ref’s fingerprints. The crowd boos the stalling as Bloodshed grabs Royal in a lockup. Todd springs out of the stalemate with an arm drag and goes to the corner to celebrate as Bloodshed makes it back to his feet.

 

Axis: Royal, celebrating a simple arm drag. Its going to take a lot more than an arm drag to defeat Bloodshed, and winning a lockup is nothing to rejoice over. This Todd Royal is a bit too cocky for my liking.

 

King: Quiet. That was an excellent arm drag, worthy of celebration…

 

As Royal dismounts the turnbuckle, Bloodshed slaps the taste out of his mouth to a pop from the crowd. Royal tries to retaliate with a slap of his own, but Bloodshed ducks the arm and hooks Royal into a Backdrop Suplex. Floating over, Bloodshed picks his opponent up and hit’s a Russian Leg sweep, dropping an elbow to the forehead before locking in an armbar.

 

Axis: See, THAT’s how you follow up a big move. Bloodshed capitalized with a driving knee, and now goes to work on the arm of Royal. Bloodshed may be an SJL rookie, but this guy knows what he’s doing between the ropes.

 

Royal makes it to his feet and shoots Bloodshed to the ropes. Leapfrogging a charging Bloodshed, Royal drops down off the rebound, anticipating his opponents momentum. Bloodshed surprises Royal however, flipping 360 degrees in mid-air and dropping a leg to the back of Royal’s head. Royal rolls under the ropes to escape further punishment as the crowd stands and applauds the acrobatics of Bloodshed.

 

Axis: AMAZING counter by Bloodshed, using his momentum to crush Royal with a spinning leg drop!

King: That’s not so amazing…I could do that, y’know If I wanted too….And I’m SURE Todd Royal could.

Axis: I dunno, every time Royal gets an advantage…Bloodshed seems to take it back, the rookie Bloodshed could simply have his opponent’s number tonight.

King: Ya…Right. Pretty soon, he’ll feel the wrath of Todd!

 

Royal scoots to the outside, and pulls himself up on the apron. Bloodshed swings at him, but Royal ducks and delivers a shoulder to the mid section. As Bloodshed doubles over, Royal leaps over the top rope and into a sunset flip, getting the first cover of the match.

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ONE!

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TW..

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Kickout!

 

Axis: Quick kick out by Bloodshed, Royal doesn’t even get two on that move.

King: That’s a horrible decision by Bloodshed. There is NO reason to kick out at one. Get the extra second of rest and kick out at 2. Rookie mistake by Bloodshed.

Axis: I don’t think that’s the case at all, Bloodshed showed Todd Royal right there that its going to take a LOT more than that to beat him.

 

Royal picks Bloodshed up and sends him crashing into the turnbuckle. As Bloodshed rebounds, Royal leaps and nails his opponent with a flying knee lift. Bloodshed hit’s the mat hard, and Royal immediately lifts him up. Bloodshed goes for a kick to the gut, but Royal catches him, spinning him to the mat with a Dragon Screw Leg whip. Bloodshed, showing resiliency, pops back up almost immediately, but walks right into a neck breaker by Royal. Todd floats over and lazily covers.

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ONE!

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TWO!

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Kickout!

 

Axis: Again a cover by Royal, and again a kick out by Bloodshed.

King: Yeah, but I think we’ve proven that Bloodshed DOESN’T have Royal’s number, as Todd has been working him over for a couple of minutes now.

 

Royal hit’s a shin strike to the chest of Bloodshed, laying him across the bottom rope and choking him with his boot. Ordonez makes the 5 count, and Royal breaks by jumping on the knee of his opponent, then going immediately back to the choke. The crowd boos the maneuver, but Royal just smirks and towels off again while lounging against the ropes. As the crowd jeers, Royal picks up his opponent by the head and places him for a DDT. Wasting too much time posing costs Todd however, as Bloodshed bridges into a Northern Lights Suplex.

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ONE!

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TWO!

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Kickout!

 

Axis: Bloodshed surprising Royal with a beautiful Northern Lights Suplex, nearly getting the victory, much to the delight of the crowd.

King: Not even CLOSE buddy. Royal was doing the SMART thing, waiting until 2 to catch his breath. He could have kicked out long before one if he so chose. It is simply the will of Todd.

 

Bloodshed capitalizes with an enziguri, before sending Royal to the ropes and delivering a flying head scissors that sends his opponent spinning across the mat to the outside. As Megan Skye helps her charge to his feet and towels him down, Bloodshed runs the far ropes and charges, sending Royal cowering in a ball against the gaurdrail. Bloodshed, however, swings himself through the ropes with a fake-out, drawing cheers and laughter from the crowd.

 

Axis: Bloodshed back on offense, and sending Todd Royal cowering in the corner in fear. This Bloodshed is an amazingly talented individual.

King: What?!? No way, Royal was simply tying his boot lace. Todd needs his boots as tight as possible to execute his victory over Bloodshed. Royal fears nothing, and I have it on good authority he’ll be putting the Fear of Todd into Bloodshed very soon.

Axis: You can spin ANYTHING, can’t you….

 

Royal slides back in the ring, but Bloodshed bounces off the adjacent ropes and delivers a leaping Bulldog face plant, putting Royal on the mat. A Rolling Thunder attempt meets kneecap though, and Bloodshed collapses to the mat, holding his back. Royal pounces, grabbing the arms of Bloodshed and crossing them, pulling him into a Straightjacket Camel Clutch.

 

King: NEVER count Royal out. Bloodshed trying to be too flashy with the offense, and it came back to haunt him.

Axis: Royal with that submission locked in, stretching the shoulders apart and wrenching the neck, an excellent setup for his Dragon Suplex finisher.

 

The crowd begins a “We Want BLOOD” chant, bringing Bloodshed to his feet, but Royal holds onto the Straightjacket, snapping backwards into a Straightjacket Suplex. Royal celebrates before whipping Bloodshed to the corner. Todd charges, hitting a huge flying forearm to the face of his opponent. The move draws blood from the scarred forehead of Bloodshed though, sending Royal out of the ring in a panic.

 

Bloodshed, on the mat, lifts his face up in a slight grin drawing a huge pop from the Tampa crowd. On the outside, Skye scrubs the blood off of Royal’s arm as Todd freaks out, yelling at the referee to DQ Bloodshed.

 

King: That freak is bleeding all over Todd Royal!! How did he get medical clearance to wrestle?! This is horrible!

Axis: Bloodshed’s forehead is weakened from years of abuse, and the man seems to enjoy bleeding as much as possible.

King: Exactly! The man is a freak! He and his chopped liver face have no business in this respectable organization!

 

The crowd ERUPTS as Bloodshed hit’s a springboard plancha to the outside, taking out Royal and Skye, and leaking blood on the mats. He throws Royal back into the ring and springboards again, taking Todd down with a Crossbody block.

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ONE!

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TWO!

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THRE….

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KICKOUT!

 

The crowd lets out a disappointed “Ohhh” as Royal kicks out. Bloodshed just smiles, licks his bloodstained lips and picks Todd up. Clasping his neck, he delivers a crisp Snap Suplex, rolls his hips and stands back up. The crowd counts along as Bloodshed delivers two more Snap Suplexes, and are on their feet as Bloodshed releases the third one and stands up, delivering an amazing Standing Moonsault on the prone Royal.

 

Axis: AMAZING series of maneuvers by Bloodshed. A series of stiff Snap suplexes followed by a breathtaking moonsault.

King: I’ll give you impressive on that, but he’ll have to do more than impressive to beat Royal tonight.

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ONE!

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TWO!

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TH..

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RE..

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e.e.e.e.e.e….

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KICKOUT!

 

King: YES! I knew it! Todd lives!

Axis: SOOOOO close! Bloodshed was milliseconds away from his first SJL victory! Royal is still alive, but Bloodshed seems to have been re-energized by the sight of his own blood, and the fans are solidly behind the newcomer.

King: What kind of sick individual gets a thrill from seeing his own blood?! This guy should be in an institution, not in a ring. Royal would be in serious trouble if he wasn’t the one and only Todd.

 

Bloodshed sends Royal to the ropes and hit’s a running heel kick to plant his opponent again. With the crowd chanting for blood, Bloodshed drills Todd with a Snap DDT. Royal is sent face first into the corner and slumps there as Bloodshed heads to the outside. The bloody one mounts the top rope and grabs Royal in a front face lock, hooking both arms and raising Royal to the second rope.

 

Axis: Setting him up for the Bad Acid Trip! This is a deadly maneuver, and one that is sure to put Royal away for good!

King: NO! By the grace of Todd, Royal will prevail….

 

Bloodshed leaps from the top rope, drilling Todd’s head into the top turnbuckle with the Bad Acid Trip! The crowd erupts in “Holy shit!” chants at the innovative move, as Royal collapses to the mat. Megan screams, as Bloodshed begins to climb to the top again.

 

Axis: BAD ACID TRIP! It…Is….Over!

King: No! Bloodshed is foolishly not going for the cover! All that blood loss over the years must have got to him, as he’s going back up top for some reason!

Axis: Actually, he’s going for the even more awe-inspiring True Grace! Once he hits that, there is no doubt what so ever to the outcome of this match.

King: Oh. Crap.

 

As Bloodshed makes his way to the top, Megan Skye hops up onto the ring apron, distracting referee Ced Ordonez. Skye begins frantically pointing at Ordonez’s feet, and when the official looks down, the valet reaches over and wraps the towel around the leg of Bloodshed, taking his leg out from under him and sending Bloodshed toppling to the mat. The crowd ERUPTS in boos as Skye dismounts the apron.

 

Axis: No! Royal’s valet, Megan Skye has just taken out Bloodshed!!!

King: Preposterous! Megan was simply informing Ced Ordonez of a wrinkle in his pants. I KNOW that Megan is a very clean and proper person who takes neatness very seriously!!!

Axis: And how in the WORLD do you know that?

King: Because she came to the ring alongside Royal!!!

Axis What does that have to do with ANYTIHING?!?

King: Cleanliness is Next to Toddliness….

Axis: **sigh**……

 

Both men are out on the mat, but Royal is the first to recover, laying his arm weakly over the chest of Bloodshed.

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ONE!

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TWO!

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.KICKOUT!

 

The fans erupt as Bloodshed lifts his shoulder! Royal scowls and lifts his opponent up, dropping him with a quick Blue Thunder Power bomb. Instead of covering however, he lifts Bloodshed up and whips him hard into the corner face first. Bloodshed rebounds, but Royal delivers a knee to the small of the back. Todd grabs the arms of his opponent into a full nelson and drops back, bridging into a Dragon Suplex.

 

King: Todd Damn! That’s the Todd Damn! No chance any more for freak boy!

Axis: This is horrible…..

 

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ONE!

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TWO!

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TH…

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RE…

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E!

THREE!!!!

 

*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*

 

Funyon: Here is your winner…..TODD ROYAL!!!

 

Royal and Skye high tail it away from the ring, smirking and laughing at the fans as they leave. Meanwhile, Bloodshed gets to his feet, tastes the last of the dried blood on his face and smiles as the Tampa crowd raises to its feet and gives the newcomer a much deserved ovation. The camera pans back to the commentators as Bloodshed begins to leave as well.

 

Axis: That was horrible. Todd Royal STOLE that one from Bloodshed.

King: I have no idea what you’re talking about. Royal won that one fair and square.

Axis: Yeah, except for the blatant interference of Skye.

King: Quality control for referees, Axis, Quality control!

Axis: Well, either way an EXTREMELY impressive debut from Bloodshed. I guarantee we have not seen the last of this guy, and I wouldn’t be shocked at all to see him hold SJL gold in the very near future….Meanwhile, coming up next Craig McLennan and Dominic Korgath clash for the opportunity to take on Shawn Tybalt for the SJL TV Title! Stay tuned to Wrath!!!!

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Guest Thoth

After the match that just ended, the crowd inside the Ice Palace is electric as they await the next exciting exhibition. Suddenly, all the lights in the arena go black and the SmarkTron lights up with a blizzard on-screen. A blood-curdling howl is heard, but nothing can be seen through the quiet beauty of the blizzard. Then, a whispering voice begins to speak to the crowd.

 

There are many things in this world people wish for.

 

Some wish for beauty.

 

Some wish for fame.

 

Some wish for POWER.

 

But there is one wish that every single person all over the world shares... the gift of LIFE.

 

But the winter... it is cold... unforgiving... with no notion or caring as to whether you live or die.

 

Remember that... when the cold... comes... for... YOU!!!

 

A heavy metal riff hits, followed by many quick images of a masked man flying around a wrestling ring. Then, the screen cuts to black and the words "The Ice Wolf Is Coming... Will You Be Ready?" appears on the screen. The SmarkTron movie stops, and the house lights return to normal.

 

.:Axis:.

What in the hell was that about?

 

.:Suicide King:.

I don't know... but I have a feeling it won't be long before we find out!

 

(Cut to commercial)

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Guest Thoth

(The camera cuts backstage, to where Ben Hardy stands, microphone in hand, waiting for his cue to start up.)

 

Ben: Welcome back, ladies and gentleman, to SJL Wrath! Up next, I will get an exclusive interview with the man that SJL World Heavyweight Champion, Charlie Matthews, defeated to become the SJL Champion. And that man, is “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins!

 

(Out of the corner of the screen, walks in Spike Jenkins, wearing a cutoff black “Money....Power....Fame” t-shirt, and his ring attire for his match later on tonight)

 

Ben: Spike, how are you feeling after taking another hard loss to Charlie Matthews, this time, losing the SJL World Championship to him?

 

HSJ: Wait. What? How do I feel? Come on Benjamin, I know you have better questions then that. But if you *REALLY* want an answer, I’ll tell you. I feel screwed! I was totally screwed out of the SJL Title, and damn it, I am not happy about it!

 

Ben: Well, you did lose the match in controversial fashion.

 

HSJ: WOW Benjamin! You really are a modern day Sherlock Holmes! I know I lost the match in (mocking Ben) “Controversial fashion.” My shoulder was clearly up before the three count. Referee Nicker-hop-a-dinkle made a royal screw up, ESPECIALLY when he decided to put his hands on me! The King of the World! Who does he think he is, Benjamin?

 

Ben: Well, to be honest, you did push him first.

 

HSJ: That doesn’t mean he can put his hands on ME, during my title match, that I not only had won on one occasion, but TWO, count them TWO, separate occasions! That title should be mine, not around the Senior Citizen who robbed me of my spot light!

 

Ben: Tonight, Spike, you have a shot to earn another title shot, against Charlie Matthews at Wrath-a-palooza, but to do that, you have to defeat three other men in a four corners match up!

 

HSJ: Benjamin, this match tonight, is in the bag. But in all seriousness, I have a tough challenge in front of me. I mean, these three guys are very skilled, talented, workers. Too bad, I am much, MUCH better then them!

 

Ben: Well, Spike, this is all the time we have, as we have a match coming up.

 

HSJ: Hold on, you do NOT cut out on the King of the World, like that! When Spike Jenkins is done, then the interview is done! And let me tell you something Benjamin Hardly, Spike Jenkins IS NOT DONE!

 

Ben: Okay...., then I guess I have time to ask you one more question. How did it feel to get a Foreign Star Bomb for the second show in a row?

 

(Spike turns towards Ben, his face turning white with embarrassment.)

 

HSJ: Damn it, Benjamin! Spike Jenkins IS DONE! This interview is ova!

 

(Spike pulls his arm up, and makes a muscle, blocking out Ben Hardy’s face, as the screen turns black.)

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Guest Thoth

Axis: Alright King, are you ready for our next match?

King: I'm quite looking forward to seeing McLennan getting squashed like a bug after the way he cheated last week to get the cheap win. And judging from his size, Korgath is the perfect man to do it!

Axis:... RIght then, let's get on with it.

 

 

GOOOOOONG!!!

 

GOOOOOONG!!!

 

GOOOOOONG!!!

 

As the third Gong sounds, the lights dim and go out. After about 5 seconds, the lights come back on, and Korgath is in the ring!

 

Axis: How does he do that?

King: It's magic.

Axis... Sure.

 

Funyon: On his way to the ring at this time, From Duncan, British Columbia, Canada, weighing in at 191 pounds, Craaaaaaaaig McLeeeeeenaaaaaaaan!

 

BANG BANG!

 

A remixed version of Rammstein's "Feuer Frei" hits, as Craig McLennan makes his way to the ring from the backstage area. He stops midway down the aisle, and reaches into his body suit, producing a Zippo™-brand lighter! He runs the rest of the way into the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He puts his trusty lighter down in the corner.

 

The Bell Rings, and Korgath immediately comes after McLennan, who jumps out of the ring over the top rope, challenging Korgath to come after him. Korgath obliges, and McLennan backs away from him, forcing Korgath to follow him around the ringside area.

 

King: I think I know what McLennan is trying to do here...

Axis: And what's that?

King: I think he's trying to wear down Korgath by making him chase him. Either that, or he's scared out of his wits of Korgath.

Axis: I doubt that's the case, King. Wait, what's McLennan doing now?

 

Meanwhile, McLennan and Korgath have made their way around the ring once, and McLennan rolls under the bottom rope again. Korgath, by now breathing somewhat heavily, climbs up the ring steps, and goes through the middle ropes. McLennan waits for him to stand upright, and then does a running dropkick, driving Korgath back-first into the corner. McLennan Starts to pound away at Korgath, who shrugs off the blows as if McLennan were a fly. Korgath grabs the throat of McLennan, who tries to break the grip frantically, and lifts him high into the air, bringing him down to the ground with force that shakes the ring.

 

Axis: This match may be over already!

King: Even if McLennan's not out, He might not be able to get a shoulder up. I mean, look at the size of Korgath!

Axis: Wait, Korgath's not going for the pin just yet...

 

Korgath picks McLennan off the ground, And once more lifts him high overhead, this time in body slam position. Once more, McLennan impacts the mat back first, rattling the ring. Korgath moves to the side of Mclennan's body, and drops a huge elbow on his opponent's exposed chest.

 

King: McLennan's chest might be caved in after that move!

Axis: Korgath picks McLennan off the ground once more...

 

Korgath now grabs McLennan around the waist, Lifts him again, and drives him down almost through the mat with a huge Belly-to-belly suplex! Korgath wastes no time in picking up McLennan again, putting McLennan's head between his legs, lifting him up, and throwing him down to the mat again with a powerbomb that scrambles McLennan's brains.

 

King: McLennan may be completely destroyed inside right now...

Axis: He can't take much more of this punishment, he has mount an offensive! Korgath is just toying with the light heavyweight!

 

Menawhile, Korgath has picked up McLennan yet again, and throws him to the ropes. On the bounceback, he goes for a Big Boot, but McLennan deftly slides under the boot, gets up, and as Korgath turns around, he launches into the air and lands a dropkick that staggers the 360 pound monster. McLennan gets up, and hits another dropkick, and another, and another, But can't seem to get the big man down.

 

King: McLennan won't get Korgath down like that. He needs to go for the legs!

Axis: I think he's taking your advice, McLennan just hit a dropkick to the left knee of Korgath!

King: And Korgath is down one one knee!

Axis: McLennan bounces off the ropes... He nails Korgath with a dropkick right to the nose! ANd Korgath finally goes down!

 

WHile Korgath lies prone on the mat, McLennan climbs to the top. He leaps high into the air, and comes down hard across Korgath's chest, knocking the wind out of both his opponent and himself. He lies on the mat for a few moments before going for the pin.

 

1...

2...

No!

 

Korgath kicks out, sending McLennan flying off of him.

 

King: Far too early at this point, and did you see the way McLennan was gasping for breath? I think Korgath may have doen some serious damage with those big moves earlier!

Axis: Good point, King, McLennan may not be able to recover from the punishment he received early on.

 

McLennan now hits a right hand as Korgath starts to get up. and another, and another, and another, and Korgath falls back down.

 

King: McLennan is trying to keep Korgath on his back, good strategy!

 

McLennan Stands turned away from Korgath's prone body, and leaps into the air, flipping backwards, and lands a standing moonsault! He goes for the cover once more...

 

1...

2...

No!

 

Axis: McLennan coming closer to the victory with each nearfall!

King: Korgath will come back. You wait and see.

 

McLennan Heads up to the top rope once more... And comes down with a beautiful Legdrop onto Korgath's throat!

 

Axis: McLennan is hitting big move after big move,let's see if he can get it done here, McLennan covering Korgath...

 

1...

2...

No!

 

McLennan Slaps the mat in frustration, and starts to unload some stomps to the face of Korgath. McLennan leaps into the air once more, coming down with an elbow drop, but Korgath rolls to the side before McLennan can connect!

 

King: Like I told you earlier, Korgath's not done yet. That might be the one mistake that McLennan will regret after this match is over!

Axis: You may very well be right, King.

King: Both men now taking time to recover from that last exchange... We might see a double countout here!

 

The referee begins to count to ten...

 

1...

2...

3...

4...

 

King: Both men beginning to stir now...

 

5...

6...

7...

 

Axis: Both men are at their knees!

 

8...

9...

 

King: Korgath is up first!

Axis: McLennan is up, too!

 

Korgath goes for a clothesline,which McLennan ducks. McLennan bounces off the ropes, and leaps up to wrap his legs around Korgath's head, and he bends backward, looking for a hurricanrana.

 

Axis: Oh My God! The strength of Korgath is unbelievable! He blocks the hurricanrana, and lifts McLennan back onto his shoulders!

 

Korgath Throws McLennan down, jarring his skull against the mat with a humongous powerbomb.

 

King: Korgath is signalling for the finish! I think we might see the big man fly tonight!

 

Korgath climbs slowly to the top rope, and pauses to catch his wind when he gets there.

 

Axis: If Korgath hits this move, it's over for McLennan!

King: Not just this match, but his career may be over, as well!

 

Korgath makes a mighty leap, and... Mclennan rolls out of the way, Korgath misses by a matter of inches!

 

King: That completely changes the complexion of this match!

Axis: McLennan now climbs to the top!

 

McLennan Pauses for an extra moment to catch his own breath, and Leaps from the top with a shooting Star Press!

 

Axis: DId you see the height on that, King!?

King: Oh, God, Don't tell me McLennan is going to win AGAIN...

Axis: Why not?

King: Can't you see the way he's been blatantly cheating!?

Axis: No... anyway, back to the match...

King: C'mon, Korgath! Kick out! Come on!

 

McLennan tiredly drapes an arm over Korgath's chest.

 

1...

 

King: C'Mon, Korgath!

 

2...

 

King: Kick out! Kick out!

 

3!!!!

 

King: No! This is horrible!

 

Axis: No, it was a great victory by McLennan!

 

Funyon: The winner of this bout, and new #1 contender for the SWF Television Title... Craaaaaaaaig McLeeeeeeenaaaaaaaaan!

 

Axis: Korgath is now extending his hand in a gesture of respect to McLennan... and McLennan accepts! What a great match!

 

McLennan grabs Korgath's arm, and raises it. McLennan heads toward the ropes to exit the ring.

 

Axis: Wait! McLennan is coming back into the ring! Korgath's back is turned!

 

McLennan draws his foot back, and lets loose a mighty kick placed squarely between the legs of Korgath!

 

King: Interesting move by McLennan. Y'know, maybe I've been a bit too hard on this kid. Maybe he DOES have what it takes after all...

 

McLennan now goes to the corner and picks up his lighter. He heads back over to Korgath's prone body, and, after a few unsucessful flicks, the lighter finally ignites.

 

Axis: Oh My God. He's not doing what I think he's doing, is he?

 

McLennan holds the lighter in the air for a few second, then Brings it down to Korgath's forehead! Korgath starts to yell loudly in pain, while McLennan laughs maniacally.

 

Axis: This is sick! McLennan is sick! I can't watch this anymore!

King: This is great! McLennan is great! I can't get enough of this!

 

Finally, McLennan stops, and puts his lighter back into his bodysuit, while Korgath lies on the mat, writhing in pain, clutching at his burnt forehead.

 

Axis: That was sickening! What a sickening display by McLennan. What has come over him?

King: I don't know, but I, for one, love it!

Axis: You're a very, very sick man, and you need help.

King: I have to watch some replays from that match...

Axis: Right then, We've got lots more in store for the viewers tonight, including a European title match! There's plenty more where that came from, coming up after the break!

 

*commercial break*

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SJL Wrath returns from commercial, the cameras once again panning around the packed full Ice Palace in Tampa, Florida, the fans are on their feet and hyped as Wrath marches ever on. The cameras zoom over the fans for a few moments, drinking in the atmosphere of people who’ve seen a lot of action already and just keep wanting more, eventually the camera view switches back to the announcer table as Axis and the Suicide King get ready to continue calling the action.

 

Axis: Welcome back to SJL Wrath! We kicked things off tonight with a whole host of new faces, and we sure have some new bright stars here in the SJL!

 

King: No doubt about it Axis, these new guys have put on a great show for us tonight and I hope they continue to do so. But saying that we’re only half way through tonight’s program, and we’ve got a lot of matches still to come!

 

Axis: That’s right King, one of the highlights tonight is a Triple Threat match for the SJL European Title! Can Chris Trepanier retain his gold? Or will Tim Dillon, or Leo Breslin snatch that title away? There’s only one way to find out and that’s stay tuned with Wrath!

 

King: Also we shouldn’t forget our main event for tonight Axis, a Fatal four Way match to decide the number one contender to face Charlie Matthews for the SJL World Title at Wrathpalooza. It’s going to be a heck of a night Axis.

 

Axis: It’s already been a heck of a night so far and it’s scheduled to get even better! We also have a special announcement tonight from the JLCC, and there’s been speculation that we may have a new commissioner named tonight.

 

King: We’ll just have to wait and see Axis but up next we have a returning Johnathan Clarke taking on that sick freak Aecas.

 

Coinciding with King’s words the arena lights are suddenly blotted out, the entire building going pitch black, the fans becoming more audible as a graveyard bell tolls mournfully throughout the arena, the Smarktron portrays a huge figure, shrouded in darkness a few stabs of light highlight pale white flesh and black scales. Slowly the small slits of light move up the figures body, finally revealing the blank white orb of an eye and a deep voice booms from the speakers, reverberating around the arena.

 

“Are you scared?”

 

“He’s here…..”

 

Red alert lights begin to flash all around the arena as Dark Funeral’s “Arrival Of Satan’s Empire” starts to pound through the arena speakers, smoke boils up from the entranceway, as a blood red spotlight snaps on, the beam penetrating deep into the coils of smoke. The blood red beam reveals a figure standing in the midst of the smoke, the light tracks the figure as he moves and Aecas finally steps out of the smoke starting to stride down the aisle the spotlight tracking with him.

 

Funyon: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Shrewsbury, England. Weighing in at 315lbs, he is the “Black Angel” Aecas!

 

The spotlight flickers as Aecas walks down the aisle, with each flicker a different emotion crosses his face before an impassive mask wipes it away once more, the cheering of the fans escalates as he jumps onto the ring apron. Aecas pauses for a moment before pushing down the top rope and stepping over it into the ring, beginning to pace like a restless animal as the lights come up, he pauses for a moment as he spots a small group of fans at ringside, one of them brandishing a potted plant in his direction. The cameras catch a glimmer of a smile as he points to the fans before making the two handed sign for Wings of Fire getting another large pop from the fans as he awaits his challenger.

 

Axis: Those fans certainly seem to appreciate this guy King.

 

King: That’s good Axis, hopefully they’ll keep him distracted and away from our announce table! I don’t ever want to be as close to that guy as I was on Metal ever again!

 

Axis: That aside King this should be an interesting match to watch, from what we’ve heard both of these men know one another very well from the feds in Japan. From what we’ve been told these two had quite the rivalry over there.

 

King: We’ll see Axis, so far I’ve not been impressed with Clarke, but I’m interested to see if he can pull his finger out against this 7-foot freak standing in the ring.

 

The arena is plunged into darkness for a second time as a pyro fuse starts to burn up the entrance ramp, slowly increasing in speed until it reaches the Smarktron igniting a huge red pyro that illuminates the entire arena for a few brief moments. Adema’s “Immortal” blast out of the speakers as the arena lights come back, revealing Johnathan Clarke standing at the top of the aisle his arms raised as the cheers of the fans echo in his ears. He spins around on the spot and starts to make his way down to the ring, scooting close to the fans on the sides of the aisle, slapping hands and giving a few high fives as he makes his way to the ring.

 

Funyon: And his opponent! Weighing 256lbs and hailing from Newcastle upon Tyne. “The Extreme Solution” Johnathan Clarke!

 

The fans pop loudly once more as Clarke is introduced, Funyon making his way out of the ring as Johnathan slides underneath the bottom rope into the centre of the ring, he pops back up to his feet, moving over to the nearest corner and jumping up onto the second turnbuckle. He looks out at the crowd for a long moment, savouring their reaction before jumping off the turnbuckle back into the ring, facing his opponent as the music fades away.

 

Eddy Long checks the positions of both men before moving to the end of the ring and signalling the timekeeper to start the match.

 

DING! DING! DING!!!!

 

Axis: And here we go! Lets see what these two men can do!

 

Aecas and Clarke circle one another as the fans divide, getting behind both competitors as they await the first moves of the match, suddenly both men lunge towards each other, Clarke ducks under Aecas’ arms as the giant tries to tie up with him. As Aecas turns around he is met with a stinging right hand to the face as Johnathon Clarke dances backwards away from his opponent, his quickness and agility very pronounced against his larger opponent. The punch hardly fazes Aecas as the giant glares down at a man he has faced many times before, all to aware of the insult and challenge that punch conveyed. He lunges forwards again and once again Clarke ducks underneath his grip once again hammering a succession of punches into his opponents face, driving Aecas back into the ropes. The Extreme Solution grabs the left arm of his opponent and tries to Irish Whip him into the ropes, Aecas easily reverses the attempted whip sending Clarke hurtling across the ring.

 

Axis: Clarke trying to Irish Whip his opponent but to no avail here.

 

King: I don’t know what he’s thinking here Axis, Aecas outweighs him by at least 50 lbs.

 

Clarke picks up speed as he rebounds off of the ropes, ducking under one of Aecas’ tree trunk like arms, leaning into the ropes for a second time and using the extra momentum to catapult himself at Aecas, staggering the bigger man with a Flying Forearm right to the face. Running past Aecas, Clarke jumps onto the second rope, using it as a catapult he turns in mid air, wrapping an arm around the back of Aecas’ head and taking the bigger man straight down to the canvas with a modified Bulldog. With his opponent down Clarke wastes no time in starting to stomp away at his opponent, Aecas’ body jerks slightly with each stomp but he starts to slowly move back up to his feet. Clarke back up until he hits the ropes and rushes forwards once again his right arm slapping across Aecas’ chest with a hard clothesline that barely fazes the giant. Backing up to the ropes again, Clarke charges in but his momentum is stopped dead as he runs into one of Aecas’ huge hands, the huge fist gripping his neck in preparation for a Chokeslam. The Extreme One reacts quickly, kicking Aecas sharply in the gut once…twice….three times, the giants grip loosening with each impact until Johnathan can wriggle free of that iron grip. Ducking underneath an attempted punch Clarke once again goes for the ropes but this time isn’t so lucky on the return as Aecas scoops him up easily, one hand gripping Clarke’s leg, the other his back as Aecas spins on one leg dropping his opponent down to the canvas with a very audible Sidewalk Slam.

 

Axis: Clarke starting out fast here straight from the word go!

 

King: It’s the only smart strategy he has Axis, Aecas is much taller and stronger than he is, and if Clarke doesn’t use his speed to his advantage he’s going to get buried.

 

Axis: Well Aecas just slowed down the momentum of this match momentarily with that Sidewalk Slam.

 

King: If he can keep Johnathan Clarke grounded and on the deck he can win this thing, both men have a strategy Axis and we’ll just have to see which of them can implement it.

 

Aecas starts to get back to his feet, dragging Clarke up with him and hooking an arm around his opponent’s neck, repeating the move with one of Johnathan’s arms. Reaching down he grabs a handful of Clarke’s trousers and bending his knees slightly lifts Clarke up and over his head, falling backwards into a textbook Suplex. Even after the impact Aecas holds on to Clarke, both men moving back up to their feet as Aecas again heaves his opponent into the air, this time he holds The Extreme One straight up in the air, the two men creating a vertical tower in the centre of the ring.

 

Axis: Look at the strength by Aecas! All the blood has to be rushing to Clarke’s head!

 

Aecas holds his opponent up for a moment longer, before dropping him straight South with a vicious Brainbuster, floating over immediately after the impact for the first pinfall of the match.

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

 

KICKOUT!!!

 

Johnathan’s right shoulder shoots off of the canvas after the count of two dislodging Aecas from his lateral press, the giant starts to et back to his feet, undeterred Aecas pulls his opponent back up to his feet, Irish Whipping him hard into the ropes. Clarke bounces off of the ropes and runs back towards Aecas; the gothic giant places his hands under The Extreme One’s armpits, hurling him up into the air. Aecas reaches up high grabbing for Johnathan’s legs, but even in his perilous predicament the Extreme One keeps his head, his legs snap shut around Aecas’ neck and he hurls all his body weight backwards taking Aecas off of his feet with a huge Hurracarana!

 

Axis: Johnathan blocked the Descent Into Darkness!

 

King: Great presence of mind by the Extreme Solution he took the big man up and over, this is the speed and quickness advantage we talked about Axis, but Jonathan needs to keep the pressure on if he wants to get an advantage over Aecas.

 

Johnathan grabs Aecas by the hair dragging his opponent over to the corner, he quickly climbs up the corner, sitting on the top turnbuckle with his feet on the second rope, he shouts out to the crowd as he wraps an arm around Aecas’ head. The crowd pops for Clarke as he leaps off of the turnbuckle swinging Aecas around and driving his head down into the mat with a massive Tornado DDT, bouncing Aecas’ head off of the mat. As soon as Clarke regains his feet he dives on top of his opponent looking for the pin.

 

ONE!!!!!

 

 

 

TW…

 

Aecas kicks out with authority, throwing Johnathon off him and nearly right into Eddy Long, the giant sits up and starts to get back to his feet, Long scurries out of the way as Johnathan comes flying back in landing a dropkick to the back of Aecas’ knee foiling the big mans attempt to get back to his feet. Johnathan stamps his foot on the canvas as he waits for his opponent to stand up and turn around, the fans start to get behind both men as Aecas finally gets back up to his vertical base, as soon as he starts to turn Johnathan darts forward for a Superkick….

 

…and finds nothing but air as Aecas ducks underneath Johnathan’s foot, but the big man pops straight back up, his arms wrapping around his opponent’s chest trapping both his arms and his still raised leg in a crushing embrace. Clarke’s eyes and mouth are wide in surprise and he shakes his head violently knowing what’s coming, Aecas glares down at his opponent for a moment before hurling him up, cart-wheeling the Extreme One head over heels with a nasty looking Capture Suplex.

 

Axis: And now Aecas has countered the Heart Seeker!

 

King: We were told these men knew each other well Axis, they both saw those moves coming and they both knew how to take advantage of them.

 

Axis: Well as we said earlier from what we know about these two men they had a heated rivalry in Japan, we also heard that Johnathan has never managed to get Aecas’ shoulders down for a three count.

 

King: Sounds like Aecas is ahead on points to me.

 

Axis: This is about more than points King, this is about professional pride!

 

Aecas moves over to his fallen opponent, hauling him up and shoving Johnathan’s head between his legs before he makes a throat cutting motion, the crowd coming alive as he signals for the Executioner. Leaning down he wraps both arms around Johnathan’s waist and hauls him up onto his shoulders, however things do not all go his way as the Extreme One starts to desperately hammer punch after punch into Aecas’ face, fighting like a man possessed as he desperately tries to avoid the fate that awaits him if he fails. Aecas staggers under the onslaught of blows and finally takes matters into his own hands and Powerbomb’s Clarke HARD to the mat. The Black Angel keeps a strong grip on Clarke and lifts him easily off of the canvas and back up to his shoulders ready for a second Powerbomb to the mat. As he goes back up Johnathan wriggles in Aecas’ grasp shaking the cobwebs from his mind and raking at Aecas’ eyes.

 

The giant closes his eyes as Johnathan tries to claw them out, and eventually has no choice but to relinquish his hold if he wants to save his sight, as soon as the Extreme One feels the grip loosen he swings his legs off of Aecas’ shoulders, wrapping his arm around the big mans neck before taking him down to the mat with another thunderous DDT!

 

Axis: Johnathan is still fighting King!

 

King: That’s the second DDT he’s hit in this match Axis, and he’d better think of something fast to try and keep the big man down and out!

 

Johnathan doggedly climbs back up to his feet, looking down at his fallen opponent, he slowly moves over to the nearest corner, and uses the ropes to vault up onto the top rope. He stands there for a moment showing near perfect balance and looks down at Aecas in the ring pointing at him for a brief moment before crouching down and launching himself off of the top turnbuckle. The Extreme Solution brings his arms and legs in towards his body before spreading them out wide as he hits a picture perfect Frog Splash on Aecas! Laying across his opponent’s body, Johnathan grabs one of Aecas’ huge legs and lifts it up as he pins the big man.

 

Axis: Frog Splash! This could end it!

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

 

TWO AND A HALF!!!!!

 

 

 

THREEEEE-NO!!!!!!

 

At the last possible moment Aecas’ shoulders leave the canvas, Eddy Long just barely stops his hand from counting three as Johnathan rolls off of Aecas and up to his feet looking down at his opponent and shaking his head slightly in frustration.

 

Axis: I don’t believe it! He kicked out of the Frog Splash!

 

King: I don’t think Clarke can believe it either! But he has to have an advantage over Aecas now!

 

Johnathan slowly starts to pick Aecas up, alternating between hammering punches into the giant’s face and slicing into his chest with some very loud Knife Edged chops each one getting a “WOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” from the crowd. Johnathan tires for another punch and finds it blocked by one of Aecas’ huge arms as the giant fights back with a Haymaker of his own which spins Johnathan on his feet. Moving back to his feet Aecas takes advantage of Johnathan’s predicament stepping forward and wrapping his arms around his opponent’s waist heaving him off of his feet and throwing him backwards with a Release German Suplex!

 

Clarke lands right on his head and shoulders from the Suplex but amazingly rolls through and back up to his feet! He staggers back into the ring ropes and bounces off of them using the extra momentum to slam a Heart Seeker Superkick into Aecas’ chest as he turns around! The crowd is on their feet as both men collapse down to the canvas seemingly spent.

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

Axis: Oh my GOD! Both men are down! How in the hell did Johnathan get up from that huge German?!

 

King: Who knows Axis but both men are down here from two tremendous moves, and now Eddy Long has a 10 count to work with, if neither man can answer it we’ll have a double count out!

 

Axis: And neither man wants that in their first match against one another in the SJL!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Aecas slowly begins to stir on the mat rolling over onto his stomach and starting to drag himself towards Clarke……

 

FIVE!

 

SIX!

 

…..Aecas drags himself alongside his opponent….

 

SEVEN!

 

EIGHT!

 

NINE!

 

….and finally manages to get an arm over the chest of The Extreme Solution.

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

TWO AND A HALF!!!!

 

 

 

THREEE-NO!!!!!!

 

 

Just as all seems lost for Clarke, he gets his shoulders off of the canvas, earning him a huge pop from the crowd as the match continues, both men slowly rising up to their feet, they start to trade punches, Aecas’ greater strength begins to show through as he beats Johnathan back into a corner. Grabbing one of Clarke’s arms, he Irish Whips the smaller man across the ring and into the opposite corner with enough force to shake the ring. Aecas pauses for a moment before charging across the length of the ring at Johnathan but gets staggered as his beleaguered opponent raises a foot and boots him straight in the face. Aecas shakes his head and once again rushes to the corner only to have Clarke slam both boots into his gut, the big man doubles over and The Extreme Solution comes out of the corner grabbing Aecas’ now lowered head in a ¾ face lock. He runs forwards, pulling Aecas with him and running up the ring ropes keeping the face lock on tight, Clarke kicks off of the top rope, flipping himself over Aecas and landing on his feet with the giant bent over backwards and locked in an inverted face lock.

 

Axis: There’s no way Johnathan can do this! Aecas’ is too heavy for him!

 

King: He’s still trying for it Axis!

 

Johnathan Clarke hooks Aecas’ left leg and heaves with all his might but can’t get his opponent off the ground, he tries again with the same result, finally he drops the leg pausing for a moment before spinning Aecas around and dropping him face first into the mat.

 

Axis: Extreme-Roller! Extreme-Roller! That’s gotta be it!

 

King: He’s got a leg hooked!

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

TWO AND A HALF!!!!!

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEE-NOOOO!!!!!!

 

Aecas’ right foot lands on the top rope a fraction of a second before Eddy Long can count three, Johnathan releases Aecas from the pin and slowly rises back up to his feet, he walks away into the centre of the ring giving the crowd an exasperated shrug which get a roar of encou4ragemtn from the fans who are still split right down the middle between the two men. Clarke moves over to the opposite corner crouching down in a football players stance as he waits for Aecas to get back up to his feet, the giant uses the corner ropes and referee Eddy Long for aid as the official is remains backed into the corner sandwiched in by the big man. Aecas finally pulls himself back up to his feet, he turns around just as Johnathan slams into him, crushing him into Eddy Long and the corner with a huge Spear!

 

Axis: Eddy long just got crushed!

 

King: Do refs get hazard pay for that Axis?

 

Aecas is doubled over Johnathan as a result of the spear but as the plucky Geordie tries to pull away two massive arms wrap around his waist as Aecas lifts him struggling up to his shoulders. Clarke tries to punch his way out of this predicament but is far too late as Aecas runs out of the corner and leaps into the air diving forwards and Powerbombing Johnathan into the mat once again.

 

Suddenly the camera cuts away as a masked figure pushes through the small contingent of Aecas fans in the front row and hurdles the barrier a steel chair clutched in one hand, he slides into the ring holding the chair ready as he waits for Aecas to get up and face him. After a few long moments the giant does so and the masked man rams the hard steel directly into Aecas’ gut doubling him over, dropping the chair the masked man slaps on a headlock and running towards the nearest corner. When the two reach the corner the masked man places one foot on the second turnbuckle and his other on the third turnbuckle springing up and out of the ring, pulling Aecas head over the top rope and using the rope like a Guillotine as he hits a modified Rocker Dropper on the Black Angel before rolling gracefully to the outside floor.

 

Axis: What the hell is that! Somebody just came through the crowd and attacked Aecas!

 

King: And what a move THAT was Axis!

 

Johnathan, unaware of what just transpired darts in behind the reeling Aecas moving back to back with his opponent and hooking both the giant’s arms, with a tremendous effort Johnathon manages to lift Aecas a couple inches off of the mat, spinning him around 180 degrees and falling forwards driving the back of Aecas’ head into the mat.

 

Axis: Spiral Fire! He’s got Aecas hooked up!

 

King: But the referee is still down!

 

The crowd chant a count of ONE! TWO THREE! But no bell rings and eventually Johnathan lets Aecas drop back to the mat and sees Eddy Long still down in the corner, moving over to the referees The Extreme Solution tries to shake the official awake knowing that he has this match won. While Johnathan s distracted the masked man slides into the ring once more, retrieving the chair and slamming it down on Aecas’ prone body again…and again..and again.. breaking the steel over the giant’s anatomy.

 

Johnathan finally succeeds in reviving Eddy Long, but unfortunately the first thing that the referee sees is the masked man whaling on Aecas with a steel chair, Long pushes Johnathan aside and signals to the timekeeper to ring the bell which he does.

 

DING! DING! DING!!!!!!!!

 

Johnathan turns around and tries to make sense of the situation in the ring as Eddy long calls Funyon over to him shouting instructions, Funyon nods his understanding and raises the microphone to his lips.

 

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of this match as the result of a disqualification! The Black Angel! AECAS!

 

Axis: I can’t believe it! Johnathan has been disqualified!

 

King: Who’s side is that masked guy on?

 

Axis: I don’t know King but look at Clarke! He’s livid!

 

The Extreme One walks up behind the masked man grabbing him by a shoulder and forcibly turning him around into a flurry of punches much to the delight of the crowd, as an impromptu brawl breaks out between Clarke and the mystery man. As the two battle it out Aecas rolls out of the ring, leaning against the crowd barricade as the two men go at it in the ring.

 

Axis: There’s nothing scientific about his fight King!

 

King: We’ve got a pure brawl on our hands Axis!

 

The two men continue to exchange blows, but the masked man has the advantage as Johnathan has already been through a hard and demanding match, the mystery man kicks Clarke hard in the stomach before DDT'ing him into the mat to the thunderous boos of the crowd.

 

King: Well, that settles that I guess.

 

Axis: No it doesn’t King here comes Aecas!

 

As Clarke goes down Aecas grabs the potted plant offered by one of his fans at ringside and slides back into the ring, the mystery man strikes a pose before Aecas levels him with the pot plant, breaking the pottery over the back of the mans head and sending him down to the canvas in a heap. Aecas hauls the man back up to his feet shoving his head between his legs and making a cut throat motion for the fans before leaning forward and hauling the masked man up onto his shoulders. The hapless individual flops down hanging upside down at Aecas’ mercy, The Black Angel holds him there for a moment before jumping up into the air and drilling the mystery man with the Executioner!

 

Axis: Good god! He just got the Executioner!

 

King: It doesn’t pay to make the big man angry Axis!

 

Aecas looks over at the fallen Johnathan and reaches down gripping him underneath his arms and lifting him back up to his feet, Clarke leans against the ropes looking at Aecas for a moment before nodding as the crowd pops for both men. Aecas steps through the ring ropes and starts to walk up the aisle as Dark Funeral’s “Arrival Of Satan’s Empire” starts to blast through the speakers once more, the music warring with the deafening cheers of the fans as the Black Angel exits the arena.

 

Back in the ring Johnathan stoops down and pulls the mask off of the man, revealing a handsome face topped with crop of spiked ginger hair, Clarke holds the mask in his hand as he looks down at the man and shakes his head slowly before moving to the ropes himself and slowly exiting the ring as Adema’s “Immortal” starts to play through the speakers. The cameras remained fixed on the man in the ring who is finally starting to move, his eyes glazed over from the huge head drop he just received.

 

Axis: Well whoever that guy is he won’t forget tonight in a hurry.

 

King: Neither will Clarke Axis, he had Aecas beaten and he got screwed right at the end.

 

Axis: Well folks we promised you a war and these two men delivered it, but up next we may find out who the new Commissioner for the Junior League will be. Also folks we still have the European Championship on the line and a Fatal Four Way match for a title shot at Wrathpalooza! See you after the break!

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Coming back from the commercial break, the camera is immediately set on Axis and King at the play-by-play tables. People can be seen milling about behind them, with the current lull in the action.

 

"Welcome back to Wrath!" Axis starts, somewhat overly excited. "King, we're just two weeks out from Wrathapalooza, and already the JL is being turned inside out! We've signed six brand new stars, ready to make their mark in the ring. We've seen the crowning of a brand new Junior League Champion in Charlie Matthews, and our main event tonight is a HUGE Fatal Four Way Elimination match to determine his opponent at Wrathapalooza! And not only that, b-"

 

"Do you need me here for this conversation, Axis?" King snorts. "Really, if you'd do better without me I can leave."

 

"Is that a promise?"

 

"... I don't like you."

 

"And lastly, the suits behind the Junior League have decided to assign us a brand spankin' new commissioner! Everyone backstage has been so tightlipped about it, I can't even begin to guess at who it is!"

 

An awkward pause, and the camera pans out to the crowds, showing the fans growing even more restless. A small "BOR-ING! BOR-ING!" chant begins to break out in section A-12, but with the flick of a button underneath the commentator's table, the offenders are quickly... handled...

 

"Ahem..." Axis clears his throat in an implying manner. "I said, King, I can't even begin to guess who it is!"

 

"You're doing fine, man, keep going." King nods approvingly and leans his chair back against the guard rail.

 

"Fine," Axis sighs. "Did you have something to say?"

 

"As a matter of fact, I do. You brought up "Charlie Matthews being crowned the new champion" - that was some of the sorriest officiating I've ever seen! He kicked out! JENKINS KICKED OUT!"

 

"After three," Axis points out.

 

"You say that like it matters!."

 

"It does."

 

"Oh, well excuuuuuuse me!"

 

Axis just shakes his head. "In any event, ladies and germs, I'm being told... yes, I'm being told that our new commissioner will be introduced any minute now."

 

"Hmph," the King snorts.

 

Funyon steps out from under the Tron and heads down the ramp, actually getting a small pop for himself. Halfway to the ring, the Chicken Dance Song suddenly blares out of the speakers, and he turns back up the ramp and shoots someone backstage the finger, while trying not to laugh. The music fades, and Funyon climbs into the ring and readies his index cards.

 

"Ahem... ahrm... ladies and gentlemen, it is my duty, and my privelege, to inform those in attendance and the millions watching at home... that a new commissioner for the Smarks Junior League has been appointed!"

 

The crowd roars, and asses start hitting seats!

 

"He was a long time active member of the SWF roster, having held no less than SEVEN championships in his stay!"

 

"Wow," Axis says, a bit surprised. "It sounds like they got a real heavy-hitter."

 

"Heavy hitter?! WHAT?! DON'T TELL ME IT-"

 

"Whoa whoa, calm down! It's a figure of speech!"

 

"I'll show YOU a figure of speech!"

 

"..."

 

"..."

 

"So where is it?"

 

"Go to hell."

 

"He has faced, and he has BEATEN, some of the greatest legends in the SWF, even the IGNWF's history!"

 

A wave of boos and hisses at the mentioning of IGN, and Funyon must wait for them to finish...

 

"... some of the great legends he has beaten, until he has arguably become a legend himself!"

 

"Arguably?" Axis notes with interest. "Well that rules out any hall of famers. No Heavy Hitter."

 

"And tonight not only marks the beginning of his commissionership, but also his VERY FIRST appearance in the Junior Leagues - EVER!"

 

"A child of the ML!" Axis and King say in unison, now apparently much interested. The crowd shares in the enthusiasm, and Funyon senses it's time to just let it out.

 

"So without further ado, I present the Smarks Junior League's new commissioner..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

... wait for it....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

... waaaaaait for it...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Almost there....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Any day now, Funyon!"

 

"Yea, while we're still youn-"

 

A deafening YEA! screams out of the speakers, and-

 

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

 

"-and OH MY GOD NO! NO NO NO NO NO!" King begins banging his head into the commentary table, but his cries of anguish are drowned out in an instant as the entire Ice Palace EXPLODES into cheers, recognizing Everclear's "Electra Made Me Blind" and the man who used it for so long!

 

"PLEASE WELCOME," Funyon booms, "THE COMMISSIONER OF THE SMARKS JUNIOR LEAGUE - CHRIIIIIIIIIISSS RAYYYYYYYYYYNOOOOOOOR!

 

As the smoke begins to clear the rampway and the music is turned up even louder to accomodate the fans at home, a darkened figure can be seen waiting just under the Tron - and he suddenly breaks into a trot, bursting through the wall of haze and throwing two VERY enthusiastic fists up to the crowd, garnering another tremendous cheer! Chris Raynor, in the flesh, has come back!

 

"It's him!" shouts Axis. "It's really him! It's been almost a year since Genesis III, and Raynor had completely dropped off the radar, but he's back!"

 

THUMP

 

THUMP

 

THUMP

 

"King... why are you banging your hea-?"

 

"I'M TRYING TO WAKE UP FROM THIS HORRIBLE NIGHTMARE."

 

THUMP

 

"Raynor was killing Edwin last time we saw him! You should be loving this!"

 

"DOES THAT LOOK LIKE THE SAME RAYNOR TO YOU?!"

 

THUMP

 

THUMP

 

Indeed, the Chris Raynor walking down the ramp looks completely changed - or rather, looks completely like his old self! Sporting a smile so wide it actually hurts and an X-L Midnight Carnival jersey, Raynor trots down one end of the ramp, slapping all the hands that lean out to greet him, then he runs back up to the top and goes down the other side!

 

"Ugh... what... what happened... and who put Everclear on? This is my car, damn it, I choose the music-"

 

"King... it wasn't a nightmare."

 

"It... you..."

 

Axis picks King's head up off the desk and points it forward. King stares blankly for a moment, then drops his face back onto the table.

 

THUMP

 

THUMP

 

"WORK, DAMN YOU."

 

While Axis fishes the Tylenol out of his pockets, Raynor sprints the rest of the way down and slides into the ring, and immediately pops to his feet to catch the microphone tossed by Funyon. Raynor gives him a hearty salute, then turns to address the crowd - he notices Axis trying to talk King down, and he can't help but break down into laughter, getting another rise out of the crowd. "Electra Made Me Blind" begins to fade away, leaving the still overbearing crowd noise to give him pause before bringing the mic to his lips.

 

"Wow, I... I really wasn't expecting something quite that big!"

 

Another cheer, and Axis takes the quick break in to pick King up again.

 

"Did it work?"

 

"It gave me a bitch of a headache, if that's what you're asking."

 

Raynor speaks again. "I, uh... I don't want to take up too much time, I know we've got an absolutely packed second half of the show and I don't want to keep that from you guys, but I, uh... Well I wanted to come down and just get a few things out of the way..."

 

A few in the crowd catch on, and a few boos actually begin to float down to the ring, remember way back when.

 

"No no, I just... I understand why some of you may be concerned about... "that"..." Raynor uses the finger quotes... a sure sign of trouble... "...but that's just an ugly chapter in my life... and I've put it behind me."

 

So much for those boos.

 

"I've put it behind me, and I want to start again."

 

King sobs. "But it was such a GOOD chapter, Chris!"

 

"But my neck, you know... it's not quite the shape it needs to be in for me to make another return to the ring... but you know how this business works. Once you get in, you can never get out. I took some time off for my neck, but when it became apparent that it wasn't ever going to get back to 100%, I began looking into other options... and I came back asking for some sort of non-wrestling role, and... look what they gave me! This is one helluva deal, eh?"

 

Another cheer.

 

"Now I realize I may endure a bit of hazing from the boys..."

 

"Hazing?" Azis asks. "I don't get it."

 

"After all," Raynor continues, "I AM Minor League and all. ML PRIDE!"

 

Raynor makes the letters with his hands, drawing the cheapest heel heat known to man.

 

"I kid, I kid. But I figure I should suck up to everyone just in case, and say that the group of guys I'm now in charge of are, seriously, some of the best I've ever seen. The JL right now has the real cream of the crop! Come on, let's hear it for 'em!"

 

Another raucous cheer, and a number of chants break out, the most dominant being "GRAPP-LER! GRAPP-LER!" Raynor nods in that general direction and lets the fans get it out of their systems.

 

"And with Wrathapalooza two weeks out," Raynor goes on... "Well... let's just say I've got a few surprises in store, so if I find any shaving cream in my suitcase or glue on my chair... just remember who's got soft spot in his heart for Ladder Matches." Raynor grins as he says this, holding a hand over his heart.

 

"Well," he says, apparently winding down, "I think that covers just about everything... I'll stop taking up TV time now and start doing my job - I've got a 'Palooza to plan!"

 

And with that, Raynor tosses the mic out of the ring and again pumps his fists to the crowd, as "Electra Made Me Blind" strikes up one more time to carry him out.

 

"Well I'll be damned!" cries Axis, struggling to be heard. "Of all the people, I never thought Chris Raynor would be back, and not only that - he's a changed man!"

 

"He could have been great, Axis!" shouts the King. "He could have been the greate-... second greatest! WHY did this have to happen?!"

 

"Maybe he finally learned what Edwin had been telling him all along - people can change! In any event, it appears that Chris Raynor - the old Chris Raynor - the REAL Chris Raynor is back, and King, I think he'll make one hell of a commish!"

 

Raynor climbs out of the ring and takes a lap, slapping the hands of all, until he comes to the commentary table. He extends a hand to Axis, who gladly shakes it, and after King turns his head away, Raynor just shrugs and moves on, working his way around and slowly back up the ramp!

 

"Pick yourself up off the floor," chirps Axis, "cause we've still got a ways to go! Scott Solomon vs. Manson, the European Title match, and the World Heavyweight Championship #1 Contendor's match are all still to come! Stay tuned!"

 

Faaaaaaaaade out.

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The cameras pan quickly across the screaming crowd as S. J. L. Wrath returns from its break.

 

Axis: Well, King, that was quite the announcement before the break, eh?

 

King: You ain't kidding, Axis! The craziness continues in S. J. L. now as everone's favorite psychopath Manson takes on the frustrated "Arsenal", Scott Solomon!

 

Axis: This match promises to be a knuckle buster, King! Manson is a hardcore icon; quite possibly the greatest hardcore style wrestler in S. J. L. today. He's taken S. J. L. icons like Dace Night and Crow to their limits in past bouts.

 

King: But Scott Solomon is no slouch either, Axis. Since his debut a month ago, Solomon has picked up an impressive line of victories, even beating Hollywood Spike Jenkins I might remind you. His recent frustration in the race for the European title will just cement Solomon's desire to take Manson to the limit tonight.

 

Axis: You're definitely right there, King. I expect Scott Solomon to be a raging ball of fire in that ring tonight.

 

The house lights begin to fade down to black as Axis finishes his last statement. The Haunted's "Hate Song" cues up on the loud speaker as red strobe lights begin to flash in the arena. Manson emerges from the back and throws up one hand with a metal taunt. He heads down the ramp as the crowd boos and hisses at him. The camera focuses on a sign that says "MANSON is a SUCKA!"

 

FUNYON: From Denver, Colorado, weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds, he is MANSON!!

 

As he reaches the bottom of the ramp, he rolls under the bottom rope and in to the ring. Manson immediately pops back up to his feet and walks over to a far turnbuckle. He throws off his leather jacket than sits down in the corner to await the arrival of his opponent.

 

Axis: Manson is looking good here tonight.

 

King: He's had a few misses recently, Axis. Look for him to fight harder than ever for a win here tonight.

 

"Hate Song" abruptly cuts off. The lights in the arena dim as Limp Bizkit's "My Way" cues up. Scott Solomon emerges from the back, where he casually steps from foot to foot as Funyon makes his introduction.

 

FUNYON: From East St. Louis, Missourah, weighing in at two hundred and fifty six pounds, he is "The Arsenal", SCOT T SOLOMON!!

 

Scott Solomon charges down the ramp and slides in to the ring. He charges right for the still leaning Manson. Referee Sexton Hardcastle calls for the bell.

 

DING DING DING!

 

The match is on as Scott Solomon tries to spear Manson in the corner. Manson ducks and sidesteps out of the way, and Solomon slams straight in to the turnbuckle. Manson charges back in as Solomon rebounds off the turnbuckle in pain. Manson brings up his foot as he reaches Solomon, bringing his boot right up in to Solomon's rib cage. Solomon gasps in pain and drops forward to the mat. Manson smiles a sick smile and raises his arms.

 

Axis: That's sick! That move was brutal, and Manson is gloating about it!

 

King: He's just doing what it takes to win, Axis. Just taking it to the extreme.

 

Manson grabs Scott Solomon by the hair and yanks him up to his feet. Solomon comes up and Manson strikes him in the gut with a quick kick. Manson pulls Solomon in close, grabbing a waist lock, than lifts Solomon up and over his head. Manson drops backwards to the mat, sending Solomon crashing shoulder first behind him. Manson climbs up and over Solomon's midsection after the belly to belly. Sexton Hardcastle drops to the mat to make the count.

 

ONE!

 

 

T.... NO!

 

 

Scott Solomon throws his shoulder up with authority, pushing Manson up and off his shoulders. Solomon rolls over, shoving Manson to the mat below him as he drives a knee right in to Manson's gut. Solomon climbs back to his feet, than stomps his boot across Manson's shoulder. Solomon than reaches down, grabs Manson by the t-shirt, and pulls him up to his feet.

 

Axis: Scott Solomon gets the shoulder up, than takes it right back to Manson!

 

King: Manson and Solomon seem pretty even so far in this match. Let's hope things will get a little more hardcore, if you know what I mean.

 

Scott Solomon brings his arm back, than smacks it hard across Manson's chest in a knife edge chop. The crowd goes "WOO!" as the blow lands. Manson stumbles back a couple steps as Solomon presses in and smacks Manson with another chop. "WOO!" Manson falls back farther and another chop (WOO!) sends him stumbling against the ring ropes. Solomon grabs Manson by the arm and whips him across the ring, where he hits the far ropes and springs back off of them. Solomon leans down to set up a move, but Manson scouts it, and brings his foot up and right in to Solomon's face. Solomon falls backward to land on the mat.

 

Seeing Scott Solomon in the perfect position in the middle of the ring, Manson runs to the ropes. Manson jumps up to the second rope, than springs back and in to a moonsault flip. He lands right on Solomon... just as Solomon brings up his knee! Manson rolls off of Solomon, clutching his abdomen.

 

Scott Solomon slowly pulls himself to his feet, than stomps Manson across the back. After another stomp, Solomon pulls Manson up from behind, than locks a waistlock around him. Solomon hoists Manson up in to the air and than drops backwards to the mat, driving Manson's shoulders down hard with the German suplex. Solomon holds the waist lock, and rolls around to pull both he and Manson back to their feet. Solomon hoists Manson up in to the air again as he drops back down for the second German. "TWO," the highly participatory audience reminds us. Again Solomon holds the waist lock and rolls himself up and to his feet. Manson struggles as Solomon again hoists him up and back in to another German Suplex. "THREE!"

 

Axis: Devastatling rolling german suplexes! Can Manson survive?

 

King: I think Manson could survive anything, Axis.

 

With the tenacity of a pit bull, Scott Solomon rolls himself and Manson back to their feet again. Manson tries to elbow Solomon to break the waist lock, but it barely slows the Arsenal as he lifts Manson up once again. Solomon drops backwards once again, spiking Manson's shoulders in to the hard mat. This time Solomon holds the pose, as Manson's shoulders are held down against the mat. Sexton Hardcastle drops to the mat.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

TH.... NO!

 

Manson uses his legs to roll over and pull his shoulders off the mat, while at the same time rolling Scott Solomon in to a small package. Manson quickly pulls on Solomon's trunks to get his leverage.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

Scott Solomon kicks out, just as Hardcastle calls for the bell.

 

DING DING DING!

 

FUNYON: The winner of this match by pinfall, MANSON!!!!

 

Axis: BAH GAWD! Scott Solomon just got screwed!

 

King: Hey, Axis, Manson's just taking his opportunities where he can find them.

 

As "Hate Song" cues up, Solomon holds up three fingers as he starts to yell at Hardcastle. The Arsenal is irate, and grabs his tights as he argues with the ref. Manson just smirks as Hardcastle informs him the decision still stands. He very blatantly says "Screw this!" before dropping back to the mat and rolling to the floor. Solomon throws a nearby spectator to the side as he goes for a steel chair. Manson quickly realizes Solomon's plan, and tries to hightail it out of the ring, but Solomon slides back in lightning quick. Before he can get away, Solomon throws the chair directly at Manson, who just barely catches it. Manson takes just a second to be proud of his catch, giving Solomon the time to charge him with a spear. Solomon drives the chair in to Manson's chest, impailing Manson in to the corner turnbuckle in the process. Sexton Hardcastle tries to break up the proceedings, but Solomon just shoves him away.

 

Axis: What in the blue hell does Scott Solomon think he's doing?

 

King: I'm just hazarding a guess here, Axis, but I'd say taking some revenge...

 

Scott Solomon throws the chair to the mat just behind him as he hoists Manson up on to the corner turnbuckle. Manson's slowly starting to recover, but Solomon smacks him with a knife edge chop to daze him once again. Climbing to the second rope, Solomon takes a second to size up Manson... than whips his legs up and around Manson's neck. Solomon than reverses his legs downwards dropping both himself and Manson back to the mat... but Manson lands straight on the steel chair!!!

 

Axis: Oh dear GAWD!!!! Scott Solomon just murdered Manson.

 

King: Manson's hardcore. He'll get over it. I just want to give a shout out to Solomon! Way to go brother!

 

Scott Solomon pulls himself to his feet and walks over to reach down and receive a mic. He takes a second to make sure its on, than looks down at Manson who has just began to stir on the mat. Solomon smiles.

 

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!!! The REVOLUTION has begun!!!"

 

Scott Solomon throws the mike down and stomps Manson one last time before rolling out of the ring and heading towards the back. Officials are running in to check on Manson as we switch back to Axis and Suicide King at ringside.

 

Axis: I don't know what to say, King. What the hell has came over Scott Solomon?

 

King: He's finally getting some balls, Axis. Solomon's tired of kissing ass to get where he needs to be. He's taking matters in to his own hands. I for one, am ready to see where this Revolution of his leads.

 

Axis: I can't agree with you there, King. If more of that is in the future, than I pray for the wrestlers of the S. J. L.

 

King: Well, if that wasn't great enough, the man who beat Solomon to win the European title is up next! Chris Trepanier defends his title against Tim Dillon and Leo Breslin next!

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“Welcome back to the Ice Palace, folks!” greets Axis. “We’re in sunny Tampa, Florida, and we’re winding down to the last couple of matches of this Wrath.”

 

King injects, “And this second-to-last match is sure to start up World War 3 as Chris Trepanier defends his title against Tim Dillon and Leo Breslin.”

 

“All three men do indeed hail from different countries, and they’re all proud of that,” comments Axis. “But I’m sure that differences in home countries won’t interfere too much in this bout as none of these three are out to win anything for their countries. They all want to walk out with that European Title!”

 

Fuel’s “Won’t Back Down” starts up. As it does, the arena darkens and two spotlights appear at the center of the stage. Walls of flames shoot up sporadically across the front of the stage. An opening is left at the ramp for Leo Breslin and Scarlet Minjonet to make their way down.

 

Funyon announces, “Ladies and gentlemen… the following contest is scheduled for ONE fall and it is for the SJL EUROPEAN Championship. Introducing first… weighing in at 230 pounds and hailing from Cleveland, Ohio… being accompanied to the ring by Scarlet Minjonet… LEOOOO BREEEESLIIIIIN!”

 

“Scarlet looks gorgeous tonight, as usual,” notes King. “It’s a shame her client is such a faltering buffoon.”

 

The spotlights are stuck to them as they descend the ramp and eventually reach the ring. Scarlet turns and heads to a side of the ring as Leo slides in under the bottom rope. Getting to his feet, Leo is satisfied with the cheers from the Tampa crowd. He begins hopping up and down and looks towards the ring, prepared to face his opponents.

 

“As Leo waits in the ring, I find it interesting that Leo once fought for the European Title. It was about a month-and-a-half ago. And coincidentally, it was a triple threat match,” observes Axis.

 

“Barroom Hero” by Dropkick Murphy’s prompts King to make his own observation. “That’s nice and all, but more interesting than that is the fact that Leo Breslin was tag partners with the man who’s coming to the ring as we speak.”

 

Thousands of pieces of green confetti in the shape of shamrocks fall from above and an eye-opening pyrotechnics show of green and orange explodes as Tim Dillon emerges from behind the curtain, mouthing the lyrics to his entrance theme. His Emerica shoes carry him down the ramp. He stays on the left, giving high-fives to fans who reach out, sometimes grabbing his Dropkick Murphy’s shirt or using a pen to connect the freckles that speckle his arms.

 

“And his opponent… weighing in at 190 pounds and hailing from Limerick, Ireland… TIIIIM DIIILOONNN!” Funyon yells into his microphone.

 

Dillon slides into the ring moments later and is greeted by Leo Breslin. The two men nod at one another.

 

Axis comments, “I think that’s a very interesting point, King. Upon winning their tag match at Metal, Breslin and Dillon, and even Scarlet, threw a little party, and I think a new friendship, or at least a strong respect, was built. But we all know just how far some people may go to get a title. I don’t expect Dillon and Breslin to get along in this bout.”

 

Marilyn Manson’s “This is the New Shit” hits, prompting the Florida crowd to rise and kick off a chorus of boos. Chris Trepanier emerges from behind the curtain and hastily makes his way across the stage and is soon on his way down the ramp.

 

“And their opponent… weighing in at 272 pounds and coming from Grand Rapids, Manitoba, Canada… he is the current SJL EUROPEAN Champion… CHRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIISSSSS TREPANIEEEER!” Funyon says, finally retiring to his seat besides the announcers table.

 

He takes no notice of the negative crowd, but rather stays completely focused on Dillon and Breslin, who are in turn focused on him. Trepanier’s European Title is slung over his shoulder. Stopping just outside the ring, Trepanier places the European Title on the apron. He remains on the outside, looking up as Dillon and Breslin look down from their position in the center of the ring.

 

“I think Trepanier realizes that no matter how much strain this ‘friendship’ may face, it will still be strong at the beginning of this match, and he does not want to get stuck in a one-on-two situation,” King states.

 

“I don’t think anyone would want that,” Axis adds. “But if Trepanier doesn’t go in there and face the music, these two men are going to go out there and get him, and that might be even worse.”

 

“Trepanier’s just making a game plan here. Can you blame him?” King asks.

 

As Trepanier remains on the outside, Dillon separates himself from Breslin. He moves to the set of ropes at the left side of the ring, and steps onto the apron. He drops himself to the mat below and lands on his feet. A slow pace sends him in Trepanier’s direction. His eyes shifting back and forth between Breslin and Dillon, Trepanier balances his two choices. Finally, he slides into the ring and gets to his feet just in time to meet a wild punch from Breslin, who immediately presses the big man against the ropes. Breslin tosses more punches before attempting to whip him. Fortunately for Trepanier, his hand grips the top rope and he is able to stay in place. When Breslin gives up the Irish whip, he attempts another punch, but it is blocked by Trepanier.

 

“And Trepanier is able to come back with some punches of his own,” comments Axis. “He’s going to school on Leo.”

 

“I don’t wish Leo could fight back, ‘cause I don’t like the guy much, but he could at least try and look like something other than a punching bag,” jokes King.

 

Trepanier pulls his arm back a bit and prepares to go in for a dangerous punch. But his arm is grabbed by Tim Dillon, having just jumped onto the apron. Dillon turns Trepanier around and grabs him by the neck. He then drops down onto the outside mat, sending Trepanier’s neck into the top rope and forcing him to rebound upwards. Trepanier turns around, grabbing at his throat. Leo Breslin sends a kick to Trepanier’s midsection, then turns himself around. He lifts his arms in the air and grabs Trepanier’s head. Falling backwards, Leo brings Trepanier down, being sure to connect his face to his shoulder when landing. The Canadian leaf sprawled across Trepanier’s mask makes direct contact with the bone, and Trepanier is left grabbing at his face now.

 

Axis says, “And Breslin gets off a diamond cutter with a little assist from Dillon! The Irishman is returning to the ring now and he’s conversing with Leo.”

 

“You know what sucks?” King inquires. “No matter what Trepanier did, this would have happened. I guess it’s good that he got to beat on Leo for a little bit though.”

 

“Well unless Breslin and Dillon are able to avoid the inevitable, Trepanier will make his way back into this match when they realize that only one of them can win,” Axis adds.

 

Dillon is the one to grab Trepanier and bring him to his feet. With seven inches on Dillon, Trepanier towers above his two opponents. His 272-pound frame is now propped up by Dillon and Breslin, who stand on either side of the Canadian Thunder and sling his arms over their necks. They each grab the waistband of Trepanier’s tights, then simultaneously lift him up. It’s no small task, but they’re able to do it, sending a heavy thud through the arena and getting a rise out of the crowd. Dillon gets up, and this time Breslin takes the task of lifting Trepanier. Breslin pushes him into a corner.

 

“Can you believe this? I think Breslin and Dillon are enjoying this,” says a repulsed King.

 

“It’s what Trepanier gets for… for…” Axis stumbles.

 

“For what?! Exactly! He didn’t do anything!” finishes King. “Breslin and Dillon just know that neither of them could beat someone the caliber of Trepanier individually, so they’re resorting to this. Typical…”

 

“Well, it is typical in a European Title match,” returns Axis. “You should know that.”

 

On the other side of the ring, Dillon watches as Breslin whips Trepanier out of the corner. Dillon explodes forward at the same time and meets Trepanier at mid-ring, driving his shoulder into his ribcage and taking him down with a spear. Dillon finishes off his delivery with a few blows to the face while atop Trepanier. Breslin watches and waits until Dillon brings Trepanier up to go in and kick him in the gut. Trepanier is doubled over, and his head is forced between Breslin’s arm and ribs. Dropping onto his back in a flash, Breslin hits Trepanier with an evenflow DDT. He gets up on his own and watches the Canadian as he begins getting up.

 

“I don’t really think Trepanier is out of it. If I can see anything behind that ridiculous mask, it would be the anger in his eyes rather than any signs of being hurt or feeling helpless,” notices Axis.

 

“Of course Trepanier isn’t helpless. He knows that a drunken buffoon and a chronic loser are no match for the pinnacle of pure wrestling. He’s just buying his time,” says King.

 

Seeming to have given Father Time enough for a new Mercedes, Trepanier is taken to the ropes by both men and whipped across the ring. On his way back, Dillon and Breslin hook arms. They hit Trepanier across the chest, just below the neck, and he falls to the ground from the impact. Dillon turns around and looks about the crowd, who are clearly enjoying themselves as the hated Canadian is mauled by wild stomps from Breslin. Dillon’s hand heads to the back pocket of his cargo pants and out comes a thin silver flask. He undoes the cap and takes a quick swig, then places it back in its resting place after closing it. Dillon proceeds to perform a quick Irish jig. All the while, his back is turned to Breslin, who falls to the ground atop Trepanier.

 

“ONE…” Axis starts. “TWO…”

 

“And Dillon just pushed Breslin off,” King says, not surprised. “And this is the beginning of the end for these two.”

 

“Dillon didn’t forcefully take Breslin off. He just kind of slid him off Trepanier’s body,” says Axis. “Dillon is even letting Breslin up, and the two are speaking in peace.”

 

Both men nod at the end of their short conversation. They assist one another in pulling Trepanier off the mat and they both bring him to the corner. Breslin begins pummeling him, setting his fist into Trepanier’s mask time and time again. A defenseless Trepanier is then hoisted onto the top turnbuckle by the pair. As Breslin scales the turnbuckles himself, Dillon heads to an adjacent corner and ascends to the top. Dillon perches himself on the top and waits as Breslin hooks Trepanier’s arm over his neck and grabs his waistband. It takes plenty of strength and energy to get Trepanier up and over, but when he does, the resulting superplex is injurious. The ring shakes a bit and Trepanier is left motionless, but Breslin is quick to move himself out of the way to avoid the flying Tim Dillon. From his position at the top, Dillon took off the moment Trepanier hit the mat, and ends up crushing his neck with his leg.

 

“A beautiful superplex followed by a top-rope leg drop! I think Dillon and Breslin just took care of Trepanier so they can go one-on-one!” says an excited Axis. “And as I speak, the two men are both getting up, a bit drained by their respective moves. Breslin uses his feet to sweep Trepanier aside and… he just fell out of the ring under the bottom rope. Breslin turns back…”

 

“…And they lock up! Dillon and Breslin, once best friends and tag partners, going through it all together over the hours… are now bitter enemies fighting for the richest prize in the game!” exclaims King.

 

“I think you’re overdoing it a bit…” Axis tells him.

 

Breslin is the first to take control, turning Dillon’s arm behind him in a hammerlock. But Breslin doesn’t keep it in for long as he opts for a headlock instead. Dillon is able to squeeze out of it and push Breslin into the ropes. Breslin stumbles back from them, but any progress is stopped when Dillon’s feet hit Breslin’s back with a dropkick. This time Breslin falls into the ropes and ends up lounging on them until Dillon pulls him away and brings him down with a school boy.

 

“Dillon with a hasty pin. One.. Two…” Axis stops when Breslin escapes with ease.

 

“So that made sense…” mocks King.

 

“Can’t blame a man for wanting to end this type of match as quickly as possible,” Axis defends.

 

Dillon and Breslin get up at practically the same rate, and end up locked neck-and-elbow once more. Breslin uses his strength to overpower Dillon by a hair. He forces Dillon into a corner and releases the hold. His knee comes up and connects with Dillon’s midsection. Breslin next hits an uppercut, bringing Dillon back to an erect position. A ducked jab allows Dillon to send an Irish fist into Breslin’s gut. Lost for air, Breslin isn’t able to stop the flurry of hard blows all over his upper body, particularly his face and head. Dillon gets in a vicious right hook to Breslin’s jaw. Perhaps doing some significant damage, Dillon looks satisfied and finishes up his work with a clothesline.

 

“Breslin is finally taken down. At least on the ground he can rest, huh?” Axis asks.

 

“Apparently not,” observes King as Dillon pulls up a resisting Breslin.

 

Rather hurriedly, realizing that any time he has may be short-lived, Dillon gets the head of a doubled-over Breslin between his legs and hooks his arms around his waist. He lifts Breslin off the ground and then drops down onto his ass. Breslin takes the piledriver well, avoiding serious damage, but is still taken out for the time being.

 

“If it wasn’t obvious that Dillon wants this over with quickly, it’s obvious now,” comments Axis.

 

“And Dillon goes for the pin. One… TWO… THR--YES!” yells King as Chris Trepanier comes up from behind and pulls Tim Dillon off Breslin.

 

“He’s back, and Christ, does he looks pissed or what?” Axis says rhetorically.

 

Trepanier pulls Dillon to his feet rather violently and lifts him into the air. Spinning a full 360 degrees, Trepanier slams him down with a sideslam, crushing him under his weight. Not feeling satisfied, Trepanier gets up and pulls Dillon along with him. This time, Dillon is the one with his head between another man’s legs. Trepanier wastes no time in lifting the wiry Dillon off the mat and sitting him on his shoulders. Within seconds Dillon is sprawled on the ground, Trepanier’s legs on his sides after the sit-out power bomb. A dazed Dillon is tossed to the side and ends up on his stomach as Trepanier gets up. Noticing a recovering Breslin, Trepanier heads over to him.

 

“I think that if Trepanier plays his cards right, and goes back and forth between both men, taking enough out of both… he could retain this European Title. But it will take a majority of his arsenal…” predicts Axis.

 

As if hearing Axis, Trepanier decides to dig deep. He shoves a second head between his legs, but this time hooks Breslin’s two arms over his back. Trepanier attempts the Pedigree, but a writhing Breslin makes it difficult. Trying to fight with him for position, Trepanier eventually realizes that there’s only one way to get his move off. After a heavy forearm to the spine, Breslin finishes resisting so powerfully and is lifted off the ground. Trepanier lands on his knees and smashes Breslin’s face into the mat.

 

“Pedigree from the champ!” shouts Axis. “But Trepanier has enough sense to go back after Dillon, but… Dillon is already up!”

 

“What?!” yells a surprised King.

 

“They say it’s hard to keep an Irishman down,” answers Axis.

 

“How come our wrestlers always fit their stereotypes?” retorts a disappointed King.

 

Dillon delivers a swift kick to Trepanier’s kneecap. Trepanier is unable to avoid the punches thrown by Dillon. These blows send Trepanier into the corner, where he leans on the turnbuckle and watches almost helplessly as Dillon ascends. On the second turnbuckle, Dillon looks down on the Canadian and smiles a wide smile, his pearly whites gleaming and his eyes glaring with an emerald shine. The downward punches to the forehead ensue.

 

“OI! OI! OI! OI!” starts the crowd, continuing with every punch.

 

“OI! OI! OI! OI” Axis joins in.

 

“SHUT UP!” King stops him. “This is an insult to a technical monster of Trepanier’s stature!”

 

“You can’t help but get caught up in the moment,” Axis says, slightly apologetic for his outburst. “Trepanier is… wow.”

 

“He’s pissed off!” shouts King.

 

After about twenty quick but powerful punches, Trepanier seems to gather up his remaining strength--combined with anger--and grab Dillon by the waist, pulling him off and tossing him to the mat like a bad habit. Now in the middle of the ring, Dillon gets up and rushes back after Trepanier, hoping to lose little momentum. But Trepanier is able to read him and gets in the perfect position to hoist Dillon onto his shoulders so he is lying across them on his stomach, legs and head hanging off on either side. From this fireman’s carry, Trepanier easily tosses Dillon’s legs into the air and pulls Dillon’s head in front of him. He drops onto his bottom and slams Dillon’s back and neck into the mat with a falcon arrow.

 

“Trepanier with a beautiful maneuver there… a real reversal of fortune for Dillon,” comments Axis.

 

“And he’s got the pin on! ONE… TWO… THREE--DAMMIT BRESLIN!” King’s shouts of joy suddenly turn to anger.

 

“Trepanier nearly retained that European Title, but not if Breslin has anything to say about it,” Axis says as Breslin continues stomping Trepanier.

 

After only four, Breslin brings Trepanier up, but the Canadian explodes and catches Breslin off guard. He sends his boot into Breslin’s gut, forcing him to bend over. Trepanier hooks Breslin’s two arms over his back once more, but not for a pedigree. He lifts up Breslin quickly and holds him in a vertical position, his two arms still locked.

 

“Holy crap, THIS is a show of strength and determination and frustration,” Axis says.

 

Not stalling for long, Trepanier drops Breslin from his vertical position, finishing off the double underhook brainbuster. Breslin looks to be out of it, but Trepanier seems to remember the humiliation faced, literally, at the hands of Tim Dillon. He turns around to see Dillon stirring on the mat, and decides to pull him up. Once he does, he sets Dillon’s head up between his legs again and soon has him back on his shoulders. Dillon is slammed onto the ground with a powerbomb, but Trepanier does not release him. Instead, Trepanier is able to lift Dillon off the mat and bring him back up into the same sitting position. Once again, Dillon is brought to the mat with a powerbomb. Trepanier only looks to do more damage as he brings up the 190-pound lightweight once more. But Dillon is able to set in a few punches to the top of Trepanier’s head. They at least cause Trepanier to pause, which is exactly what Dillon needs to hook his legs behind Trepanier’s head then drop himself downwards, sliding himself between his legs and flipping him over with a hurricanrana.

 

“Dillon with an amazing reversal out of nowhere… proving that he has extreme willpower and is hard to take out,” Axis compliments.

 

“Yeah, something like that,” says King, not very satisfied by the most recent turn of events.

 

Dillon is quick to pull Trepanier up and shove his head next to his ribs, hugging it with his arm. He prepares for the first of a few rolling DDTs, as is the recipe for Finn’s Fall, but he is stopped short when Trepanier screams out angrily and shows a burst of strength, grabbing onto Dillon’s waist and flipping him over with a northern lights suplex. The impact is great and very demanding on Dillon’s body. He remains on the ground as Trepanier gets up, moving to the thin man and stomping him repeatedly.

 

“Trepanier is being relentless here. Beautiful!” King admires.

 

“He is… he’s pissed. He’s not giving up in his search for revenge. Revenge for what, I’m not really sure, but…” Axis trails off.

 

“For Dillon being so damn annoying and nuisance-like. He keeps pulling off simple stuff on Trepanier and making him look foolish. I’m sure a man of his skill-level doesn’t take kindly to that. I know I wouldn’t. You just don’t understand, Axis,” King says, bringing Axis to a reserved silence.

 

Trepanier has Dillon on his stomach, and somewhat hungrily moves down to… grab at Dillon’s ass. But it’s not a celebration for the recent sodomy ruling from the Supreme Court. Rather, Trepanier digs into Dillon’s pocket and pulls out the flask that made an earlier appearance. Trepanier opens the flask and tips it downwards over Dillon’s body. But after further consideration, Trepanier realizes that Dillon may like that too much, so he opts instead to head to the ropes and pour the high-quality alcoholic beverage held within the Tim Dillon Flask to the mat below. It ends up in a small puddle, and the flask is tossed out to the crowd with disgust. Trepanier turns around, and is grabbed by Leo Breslin, who uses a large amount of strength to toss Trepanier over with a belly-to-belly suplex.

 

“Leo has entered himself back into this equation,” Axis states the obvious.

 

“And much like my four years of math in high school, I really don’t give a damn, and--” King is cut off.

 

“And Leo Breslin is going after Tim Dillon without a second thought!” interrupts Axis.

 

Not giving much care to possible consequences, Breslin lifts up Dillon and shows no hesitation while putting him in a wrenching hammerlock. Breslin presses his front to Dillon’s back, then hooks his other arm around the thin Irishman. He lifts Dillon up and tosses him backwards, forcing him to the mat hard with a belly-to-back hammerlock suplex. Breslin scurries over to the fallen Dillon and covers him, making sure to hook one lean leg.

 

“ONE… TWO… THREE! Axis screams.

 

“NO, TREPANIER BREAKS IT UP!” King follows up. “And just in the nick of time, too. You could almost feel Trepanier losing his European Title to Breslin, and it did not feel good.”

 

Trepanier is quick to lift Breslin off the ground. He hooks his arm around the smaller man’s neck and grabs his waistband, then lifts him up, holding him in a vertical position before dropping him back down with stalling suplex. Breslin is left on the mat, favoring his back, while Trepanier moves over to Dillon. He lifts the flexible coat hanger the rest of the way up and moves him against the ropes. Dillon is tossed across the ring, bouncing off the opposite ropes before coming back and meeting Trepanier, who is doubled over. He hoists Dillon onto his shoulders and falls backwards, with a quasi-samoan drop that dumps Dillon onto the outside. The Irishman is left on the outside as Trepanier returns to Breslin, but he is not left lying on the ground for long.

 

“Dillon is already getting up,” Axis observes. “Dillon has been dropped many times before, and he always gets up.”

 

“Trepanier returns to Breslin… grabs for his legs…” King says. “Storm Front! Trepanier has Breslin in his Storm Front!”

 

Breslin’s legs are hooked by Trepanier’s arm, and the Canadian’s knee is pressed into Breslin’s back as he pulls on him, applying terrible pressure. Trepanier doesn’t seem to be relenting. Behind him, just having hopped onto the apron, Dillon climbs to the top turnbuckle. He wastes no time before leaping off, sticking his legs forward and holding them together. His feet make direct contact with Trepanier’s back, throwing him forward. Dillon’s jump to mid-ring leaves him lying on the ground, somewhat dazed. He gets up slowly.

 

“Dillon perhaps saves himself the title this time,” comments Axis. “And he’s back on Trepanier.”

 

Pulling Trepanier up after the missile dropkick, Dillon puts himself behind him and pulls him down backwards. In position to pull off a reverse DDT, Dillon grabs as much of Trepanier’s waistband as physically possible, then uses his other hand to support underneath his back. With as much energy and strength his body can muster up, he lifts Trepanier off the ground. Unable to get the behemoth in a vertical position, Dillon is able to get Trepanier up high enough for the landing to be devastating.

 

“Dropped on his neck by Dillon!” Axis shouts. “Trepanier is out of it after that Blood and Whiskey!”

 

“Dillon is pulling himself up and… from behind comes Leo Breslin!” King ads.

 

Breslin swoops under Dillon’s legs with his head and stands himself up, holding onto his legs to keep him stable on his new position atop his shoulders. From here, Breslin spins himself twice, building up momentum before falling back and dropping Dillon hard onto the mat. His Cyclone complete, Breslin bridges for the pin.

 

“ONE!” yells an ecstatic Axis. “TWO… THRE--”

 

“Trepanier breaks it up again!” interrupts King. “Thank God Dillon is such a weak sissy girl who couldn’t pull off a complete Blood and Whiskey…”

 

Trepanier pulls Breslin to his feet. He bends down a bit to get an arm between Breslin’s legs, then lifts Breslin up to powerslam him to the mat. Breslin is dazed as Trepanier turns to the worn Dillon and lifts him up, bringing him to the corner. Trepanier begins his Triple Entente with a high kick to the chest. He pauses and begins screaming at Dillon, mocking him in his dilapidated state. Another one follows. More mocking ensues, and it is finally capped off with an impressive roundhouse kick to the head from a big man.

 

“He looks satisfied,” comments King.

 

Trepanier sticks his face in Dillon’s and continues his derision. From behind once more comes Leo Breslin, and he finds himself sticking his head between Trepanier’s legs from behind then standing up. Breslin is a bit shaky, barely able to keep the heavy weight of Trepanier up. He decides to skip the spin to avoid a possible turn for the worse, and ends up falling backwards, sure to drive Trepanier into the mat as brutally as he could muster.

 

“Another Cyclone!” Axis exclaims. Go for the pin, Breslin!”

 

“He’s not! Good man, Breslin,” King looks on.

 

Instead of going for a pin on Trepanier, Breslin wants to seal the deal and make sure no one can interrupt his attempt at victor. He stands up and makes his way to the corner, finding a slowly wakening Dillon waiting there. Breslin tosses him onto the top turnbuckle, making sure that his legs are on the outside of the ropes. Pulling Dillon’s head down, Breslin holds it in position for a DDT, then backs up rather hastily. All that remains on the ropes are Dillon’s shins as Breslin holds him up by his neck on the other end. A split second later Dillon’s head crashes into the mat after Breslin falls down with lightning quickness. The head drives into the canvas and the neck seems to spring back upwards.

 

“Landslide on Dillon! Now he’s going for the pin!” Axis chimes in again.

 

“GET UP, SOMEONE!” yells a desperate King.

 

“ONE!” the crowd starts up, watching eagerly and screaming as referee Matthew Kivell lifts his hand off the mat.

 

“TWO!” Axis continues with amazing fervor.

 

“THREE!” the arena explodes.

 

The bell is rung, and “Won’t Back Down” starts up seconds later. Funon stands and announces, “The winner of this bout… and the NEW SJL European Champion… LEOOOOOOO BREEEEESSSSLIIIIINNN!!”

 

Tampa is ablaze with excitement as Scarlet Minjonet slides into the ring. Having taken the belt from Funyon, she hands it to her client. He holds it high into the air with both hands as Scarlet eagerly hugs the open body below. Both are smiling wide. Out of the corners of the camera, Dillon and Trepanier leave the ring separately. Dillon simply rolls to the outside, ending up in a heap. The first to make his way up the ramp, Trepanier turns around and sees Dillon at the bottom. He lies, rather ironically, very near to the puddle of whiskey made by Trepanier earlier. All the Canadian does is glare at both men, Breslin for taking his title and Dillon for adding insult to injury during the match.

 

“That was amazing folks! Leo Breslin has captured the European Title in tremendous fashion! He is being hailed by these fans, and for good reason!” shouts Axis, having trouble overcoming the crowd. “But I have the feeling that somewhere in this match, hard feelings were forged and they will be explored in due time.”

 

“But for now, we’re going to await a match which will determine our number one contender for Charlie Matthews’ World Title! Stay tuned, folks; we’ll be right back,” says King as Leo and Scarlet are shown one more time ascending the ramp before the scene changes to a commercial break.

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Guest Thoth

So like, circus music plays and Spike comes out!

 

Axis: Blah blah!

 

King: Zuh?

 

and then the DEMON is in the ring with the TV Champ and they're already fighting!

 

King: Blah blah!

 

Axis: I concur!

 

So Spike joins them and they begin making mad love! Spike has his hands on both men's respective buttocks.

 

Bobby Riley: Yay!

 

King & Axis: ...

 

So then "Sinner" plays and John Duran comes out! And he's all proud of himself for killing Charlie Matthews and the crowd boos him! And he gives Liston and Tybalt a double noggin knocker! They fall back and Spike looks like a sad panda! So Duran gives him the Ultimate Sin, and grabs a cooler from under the ring!

 

Axis: Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah!

 

King: Shut the fuck up!

 

So Duran drinks like, 50 beers or something getting reeaaaaaaaaaally drunk and stuff and everyone laughs merrily! But then he remembers he has a match to win, and it's already like 5 minutes later! So he pins Spike!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

LOL

 

LOL

 

LOL

 

LOL

 

LOL

 

LOL

 

LOL

 

LOL

 

LOL

 

LOL

 

LOL

 

LOL

 

LOL

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!

 

*DING DING YAY LOL*

 

Axis: LOL Duran wins!

 

King: LOL good night!

 

No showing = Kewl~!

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