Lockdown 7/2 Losing Matches!

[Guest Ace309]

Well, I'm not going to say this was rushed or phoned in, but let's just say that I'm glad the extra caffeine helped me leave an extra-long message on King's answering machine.

 

In all seriousness, this was a match I turned in, and unlike my Jay Dawg loss, this was one that I wholeheartedly expected to win. It's considerably short of the word limit, but most of my matches are. I think it holds together psychologically, though it might have been a little too hinted-at rather than explained adequately. I did deviate from my planned finish - the planned finish was a spider backdrop driver, but when I got to the finish here (which was initially planned as a transition spot) it was just too exciting to me personally for me not to use it as the finish.

 

This is certainly not a situation where I can say I wrote a shit match and expected to lose, or where I can cry foul. I simply lost to a better match last night. Big, BIG congrats to Thoth!

 

===

 

Freedom Hall in Louisville, Kentucky, lights up as SWF Lockdown’s Independence Day edition returns once again! Tonight, the fans show their patriotism by waving American flags and various signs in red, white and blue…

 

“GIVE ME LIBERTY OR GIVE ME DEATH!”

 

“FROM SEA TO SHINING SEA!”

 

And, of course, the ever-popular three fans sitting together, each holding one letter and spelling out “U! S! A!”

 

The fans aren’t all being patriotic tonight, though. They are, after all, here at SWF Lockdown, and they’re ready for action. Some have signs for hometown hero Danny Williams, including the ever-present “BEERHUG!” that seems to follow him wherever he goes. Other fans are shown holding “Thumbs In The Middle,” “BBQ > Buffalo Wings,” and “So Steams The Clam: Leftovers!”

 

Amid all the energetic fans, we see the announcers sitting at their table, ready to call the action for the main event. As always, “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens looks sharp and prepared, whereas Bobby Riley appears to be very disoriented.

 

“So wait,” says Riley for what seems like the thirtieth time tonight. “You’re telling me, not only can I NOT see the Blues or the Cardinals play, but we’re in a state where you can marry your first cousin at 14?”

 

“Bobby, what’s your problem with Kentucky, anyway?”

 

“Well, on my way out of the hotel, someone offered to make me squeal like a pig.”

 

“Hmm,” says Stevens thoughtfully. “I’d think you’d be a bit more receptive of that.”

 

“Oh no,” he says with a dismissive wave of the hand. “I was delivered a long, long time ago.”

 

Stevens pauses for an uncomfortable moment, shifting in his chair, and then clears his throat. “Well, fans,” he says, “we’ve had a night of exciting action. After seeing CIA and Dace Night duke it out in their rematch, and Beezel and Janus fighting for a shot at Stryke’s ICTV Title, everyone here in Freedom Hall is ready to get down to brass tacks. This is going to be a tough one for Thoth, but the Balancer showed last week that he can still hang with the best of them. Funyon’s in the ring, so let’s start this one up!”

 

Funyon announces, “The following match is scheduled for one fall, it is the main event, and it is for the SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!” The fans applaud, and Funyon continues, “The challenger…”

 

KMFDM’s “Go to Hell” plays, the drum beats setting off red strobes throughout Freedom Hall. The fans instinctively begin to boo as the Balancer makes his way through the curtain, but Thoth ignores them entirely. He seems to be making a conscious effort not to show emotion, and nearly succeeds… but to those watching closely, a small, evil smile is trying to wrench its way across his lips.

 

“From Aechiba, Japan, and weighing 245 pounds, this is the number-one contender to the SWF World Championship… he is the leader of the Clan, he is the Balancer, he is THOTH!”

 

Thoth slides into the ring, his face turning into a grotesque theatre mask detailing the emotion of malice. He stays in the ring, getting jeers and catcalls from the fans, but simply waves them off like flies circling around an open garbage can. The fans respond by jeering even louder, but the house lights quickly dim once again.

 

As the SmarkTron glows white, Funyon announces, “And his opponent…”

 

The words “SUPERIORITY COMPLEX,” “MAGNIFICENT SEVEN” and “WORLD CHAMPION” fade onto the screen, and...

 

 

BOOM!

 

 

With a huge explosion of blue pyro and smoke, Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” begins to blare through the arena. Most of the fans boo, but a few are so irritated by Thoth that they cheer for his opponent in spite of themselves. As Tom Flesher steps through the curtain, the crowd reaction, still mixed, gets even louder. Flesher walks through the smoke, a look of determination on his face, and walks purposefully to the ring. Thoth stays in the squared circle, refusing to show the deference that even Flesher’s staunchest rivals give him. Flesher pauses to stare at him from mid-aisle, clearly put off, and then continues walking. He climbs up the stairs, wipes his feet and, still glaring at Thoth, steps to the center.

 

 

BAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAM!!!!!!!!

 

 

Flesher poses in the center of the ring as the symphonic breakdown of “Kashmir” is accompanied by machinegun-like blasts of pyro from the corners! As the lights come back up, Flesher backs away and takes the World Title belt off from under his warm-up jacket.

 

“Currently in the ring,” says Funyon, “is a man who has not only faithfully served the SWF for over a year, but who also has consistently raised both ratings and workrate. He is responsible for the hike in merchandise sales, the move to bigger venues, and even, occasionally, making the trains run on time. He is 213 pounds of pure Nielsen Share gold, he is the SWF World Champion, he is ‘The Superior One’ TOM FLESHERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!”

 

Flesher golf-claps for himself, acknowledging the few in the crowd who are cheering for him. Referee Eddy Long holds the SWF World Title in the air, and Flesher strips off his warm-up suit as he calls for the bell.

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!!

 

 

“And this one is underway,” says Mark Stevens as Flesher and Thoth start the match. Thoth waits patiently in the center as Flesher moves in, defensively holding back and starting off with a simple lockup. He tries the lockup, anyway, but Thoth catches him off-guard with a chop to the throat! Flesher reels backwards, and the Balancer steps forward, smiling wickedly as he crosses his wrists and thrusts his two hands into Flesher’s Adams-apple once again with a sickening double chop! Flesher leans against the ropes, trying to get his breath back as Eddy Long ushers him away! The fans boo loudly as Flesher rolls out of the ring to regain his composure.

 

“That was just plain wrong!” says Bobby Riley. “I don’t care what you say, Thoth’s actions there were not only illegal, but just ugly.”

 

“True, it’s technically illegal,” says Mark Stevens. “Striking at the throat isn’t allowed, but Thoth may just be using the moves to gain an early advantage.”

 

“And that would make it any better?” says Riley. “Oh, he only got an advantage that led to his win. The cheating only INDIRECTLY won him the match. Come on, Mark, use your noodle here.”

 

“… use my noodle?”

 

Flesher walks around on the outside of the ring for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath and get back on his game. Thoth, meanwhile, leans on the top rope, half sneering and half smiling. He backs away, sardonically motioning for Flesher to re-enter the ring. Tom slides back in, making sure to keep his gaze on Thoth the whole time and avoid an attack.

 

“Thoth is certainly getting an early mental advantage,” says Mark Stevens. “Love him or hate him, he knows how to get in someone’s head.”

 

“Last I checked, this wasn’t Psych 101, Grand Slam,” replies Riley. “This isn’t about getting the mental edge, this is about pinning your opponent to the mat, one, two, three, or putting him in so much pain that he has to give up. When it comes to that, Tom Flesher has it all over some creepy cult guy.”

 

“That ‘creepy cult guy’ has in fact beaten Flesher once before, Bobby.” Stevens gently reminds his partner, “Back at Ashes 2 Ashes, Thoth took the ICTV Title from Flesher wrestling under the Orochi persona.”

 

“And so Flesher’s even better prepared this time. Besides, it’s been over seven months. Flesher’s ready. Watch, Mark. You just watch.”

 

Tom Flesher starts back to his feet, but before he can position himself to attack, Thoth hits him with a stiff kick to the ribs. Tom staggers backwards, and the Balancer follows the kick up with a stiff boot to the side of the neck! He easily shoves Flesher backwards and slams his boot into his throat again, this time pushing the boot against his windpipe! Eddy Long sees the boot choke and administers his five-count.

 

ONE!

 

Thoth shows no reaction, focusing only on Flesher’s face.

 

TWO!

 

Flesher starts to turn bright red as he tries to push the boot off his trachea, but Thoth continues forcing it across the neck.

 

THREE!

 

The same sickening smile spreads onto Thoth’s face as Flesher flails and struggles to get free. The fans boo loudly, jeering the Balancer more than cheering the Superior One.

 

FOUR!

 

Thoth keeps the choke on for a millisecond more, then releases it just before Eddy Long can count to five and disqualify him. Long pushes Thoth back, giving Flesher space to stand up and try to shake off the effects of the Balancer’s flagrantly illegal offense. Tom stands up, gasping for air, but as soon as he gets to his feet, Thoth charges at him! Flesher tries to move out of the way, but Thoth leaps up and slams into his chest with a knee lift! The impact causes Thoth to bounce off Flesher’s sternum, but he steadies himself on the ropes as Flesher falls forward holding his chest! Flesher lays stunned on the mat for a moment, and Thoth takes advantage of his position by diving onto Flesher with a kneedrop! The fans angrily shout their disapproval for the leader of the Clan as he settles onto Flesher and rolls him to his back for

 

 

ONE!!!!!

 

 

 

but no more, as Flesher kicks out forcibly! He sits up, getting his shoulders off the mat, and tries to slide away to get back to his feet. Thoth keeps him in place, though, by grabbing his arm. He extends the arm and takes a second to measure, then throws a stiff kick to Flesher’s spine! Tom arches his back instinctively, crying out in pain, and Thoth pulls his foot back to unleash another kick to his back! Flesher tries to slide away, and this time Thoth allows him to, loosening his grip in the wrist. Flesher gets up, grabbing Thoth’s arm for control and to avoid further attacks. The Clan leader turns backwards, going for a spinning leg lariat, but Flesher ducks it! As Thoth plants his kicking leg back on the mat and readjusts his balance, the Superior One ducks under his arm and comes out behind him, locking his hands tightly around the Clan leader’s waist! A few of the fans supporting Flesher cheer loudly as he bridges back adeptly, throwing Thoth to the mat with a German suplex! Eddy Long counts

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

but before he can go any further, Thoth breaks the lock and rolls though!

 

“Nice throw by Tom Flesher,” acknowledges Mark Stevens. “Ducking the leg lariat was certainly a lucky break, though.”

 

“Lucky, schmucky,” says Riley, suppressing a giggle. “Flesher’s fast enough and knows enough about the sport to see when things like that are coming. I mean, come on. You’ve seen his counter-attacks. He knows his opponents’ strengths and weaknesses, and he comes in ready for them.”

 

“Of course, he didn’t get the pin with that German suplex, so we’ll see how ready he is to continue the match. We see week in and week out, you can catch a few near-falls early, but that doesn’t win you the match.”

 

The fans boo the one-count disappointedly, and Flesher reflexively rolls to his stomach to assume an attacking position. Thoth, slightly disoriented from rolling away, is half a step slower. He takes an extra second as he turns to face Flesher, and the World Champion capitalizes by grabbing his head and trying to cinch a front facelock! Thoth catches him, though, and deftly blocks the Champion from locking his hands by forcing them apart with his elbows and grabbing Flesher’s left elbow. He pulls the arm out, sliding behind him and taking him to the mat with a hammerlock! As soon as Tom feels it, though, he slides his hips out to begin a sit-out counter. He spins to the side, extending his arm and grabbing Thoth by the forearm to control the limb. He shifts his weight, completing his turn and shoving the challenger face-first to the mat, locking on a hammerlock of his own! Once again, this draws a small round of applause from the crowd. Flesher, though, isn’t satisfied with the simple arm lock. He stays above Thoth, making sure to keep pressure on the arm and pin it to Thoth’s back. He spins around, underhooking the challenger’s right arm. He reaches through and grabs the left wrist, pulling it back into the crook of Thoth’s right elbow, and rolls him to his back with the Gable Cable pinning combination! The fans cheer as Eddy Long counts

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

NO! Thoth pulls his left arm free, breaking up the pin and rolling to his stomach! His expression is uncomfortable, but not defeated; in fact, he looks even more determined to end Flesher’s reign… and possibly his career.

 

“Flesher nearly got the pin with that amateur-style tilt,” says Riley. “Always innovating, he is.”

 

“That was invented by Dan Gable years ago!”

 

“Well, I haven’t seen Mak Francis do it,” Riley answers smugly. “So it must not be one of those newfangled amateur techniques he loves so much.”

 

Flesher descends on Thoth, looking for another pinning combination or grounded submission to keep his opponent on the mat. Thoth tries to back away, but as he slides back, Flesher catches him and clamps on a side headlock! Thoth struggles, trying to get away, but finally, as Flesher stands up with the neck vise, the leader of the Clan seems to acquiesce to his trapped status. He shifts his weight, then points Flesher to the nearest set of ropes. With a powerful thrust, he tries to shove Flesher away, but the World Champion keeps his lock! Angered, Thoth tries once again to shoot Flesher to the ropes, but once again, Flesher plants his feet and refuses to be moved! Instead, he turns and takes a few steps toward the center, then falls to the side! He throws Thoth over his hip and onto the mat, flat on his back, with a side headlock takeover! Eddy Long counts

 

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

NO! Thoth rolls through as the crowd groans, but Flesher keeps his headlock as a sort of consolation prize. He rolls with Thoth, coming to a seated position on the mat. Thoth then starts to stand up, trying to set up an attack. Flesher, uncomfortable in the seated headlock anyway, stands up with him… only to have Thoth start to lift him for a backdrop suplex! Caught by surprise, Flesher flails and arches, doing anything he can to break up Thoth’s lift. Finally, the struggling forces the Balancer to abandon the throw. Flesher reasserts his side headlock, and again, a few of the fans applaud his efforts.

 

“Tom Flesher seems to be taking control here after a bit of a rocky start,” says Mark Stevens. “Interestingly enough, the fans seem to be supporting him tonight.”

 

“Of course they are, Mark. But tonight, it’s not just that they recognize Flesher for what he is – the ultimate in incredible skill, charisma and rugged good looks – it’s also because he’s facing off tonight against a Japanese guy who’s ugly to boot. On Independence Day, how could they NOT support Flesher?”

 

“Uh… a more mundane explanation might be that Thoth has alienated the fans so much that they’re willing to cheer anyone who goes up against him,” replies Stevens. “Put Flesher up against Frost or Taylor Thompson and they’ll turn on him in a heartbeat.”

 

“I know! No loyalty! I tell ya, Mark, it’s just plain sad.”

 

In the ring, Flesher is still holding on to his headlock. Thoth decides to make one final go at it and makes a powerful push toward the ropes. This time he sends Flesher off, and after Tom hits the ropes, Thoth twists around and throws a spinning back elbow! Flesher ducks, though, and hits the opposite ropes at top speed! He rebounds, and just as Thoth turns around, WHACK! Flesher nails him with a Yakuza kick! Thoth crumbles to the mat, and the fans burst into cheers as Flesher covers him!

 

 

ONE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

NO!! Thoth kicks out with ample time to spare. He rolls away and stands up facing Flesher, who tries to hook him once again in his front facelock. Thoth backs away, though, and slams a fist into Flesher’s chin!

 

“Jesus!” shouts Mark Stevens as Flesher reels backwards. “That uppercut was just brutal!”

 

“Thoth is showing no mercy toward the World Champion,” Riley agrees. “It’s really a damn shame.”

 

Flesher takes another step backwards as Thoth follows him fluidly, seeming at the same time to be a sadist enjoying inflicting pain and a simple extension of the air, flowing and slamming into his opponent with great accuracy and force. He throws fists at Flesher’s head, then follows up with a kick to the ribs. Flesher stops in his tracks, the wind knocked out of him, and Thoth steps in to hook his arm and hiptoss him to the mat. Flesher lands hard, and the Balancer quickly throws a boot to the spine before dropping to one knee. He drives the other into Flesher’s back, hooking his arms and pulling back in a surfboard stretch!

 

“The Balancer takes Flesher to the mat,” calls Stevens, “and locks on a surfboard. That hold, especially with the knee planted between the shoulder blades, is generally fatiguing, but it puts extra pressure on the back. Flesher’s had back injuries in the past, but really, attacking the back is a way to move on to a more specific plan of attack. A wrestler with a hurt back simply can’t fight as efficiently or accurately as one with just about any other type of injury, simply because the back holds the whole body’s muscles together.”

 

“The bastard!” says Riley.

 

Stevens continues, “Already you can see Flesher compensating for the pain of the hold, which puts pressure on his upper back, by wrenching his lower back. Thoth is essentially getting all the benefit of a Boston crab or camel clutch while expending almost no energy.”

 

Flesher grimaces in pain while Thoth stretches his arms back and grinds his knee further into Tom’s back. The World Champion struggles, trying to break free, but the number-one contender simply stares down at him, his face a mask of depraved sadism. He seems intense and businesslike, but at the same time he seems perfectly content to try to rip Flesher’s arms from their sockets. After a few more moments, though, the Clan’s top man releases the hold. He keeps Flesher’s left arm, though. Flesher turns his head back, wary that Thoth might try to kick him in the back of the neck. Thoth politely backs away, indicating that Flesher is free to continue escaping. As soon as Tom turns his head back, though, BAM! The Balancer unloads a concussive kick straight to Flesher’s head! Flesher flops forward, then falls to his side. Sensing victory, the Lightbringer dives onto Tom and hooks the leg! Eddy Long counts

 

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

KICKOUT! “Tom Flesher gets a shoulder up,” says Mark Stevens, “but Eddy Long was close to making the three. Thoth is just abusing him, Bobby.”

 

“He is,” agrees Riley flatly, trying to hide his disappointment. “This might be one of Tom’s tougher battles. I mean, the Boston Strangler was tough, but Thoth’s got some brains to him.”

 

“You know, Strangler took Flesher to the third fall and nearly had him at 13th Hour.”

 

“Yeah, and TNT and Frost ‘nearly had’ Flesher at Battleground. He walked out with the belt, though, and he’s probably sleeping with Strangler’s woman while he’s out at the bars.”

 

Back in the ring, Flesher sits up, and the fans applaud, cheering him on reservedly – “They seem to want him to win,” says Mark Stevens, “but they’re just not comfortable cheering.” Still stunned, though, Tom isn’t able to get any offense in. Thoth opts to change his attack slightly and jogs to the nearest corner post. Flesher very slowly pushes to his feet as Thoth climbs to the top rope. As he perches on the turnbuckle, Flesher turns to face him, and Thoth leaps off the ropes! He comes down hard, nailing Flesher in the neck with a double axehandle! Tom falls to the mat, but Thoth doesn’t cover him. Instead, he steps back, watching the World Champion intently. As Flesher starts to stand up, the Balancer hooks him by the neck and bends him over backwards, locking on a loose reverse facelock. Flesher struggles, trying to get free, but Thoth tightens the lock and lifts him up into the air! He holds him upside down for a moment, then sits out, slamming Flesher head-first to the mat with an inverted brainbuster! Tom flattens out, his brains momentarily scrambled. Thoth rolls onto him, covering once again for

 

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR- NO!!!!! Flesher kicks out! He rolls away, but Thoth follows him closely. He grabs Flesher’s arm and threads it through his legs, locking on a pumphandle. Flesher tries to slide away, but Thoth pulls him in and lifts him into the air. He arches back, sending Flesher arching through the air and releasing him at the apex!Flesher lands hard on the mat and rolls away to a corner.

 

“After that pumphandle suplex,” says Mark Stevens, “Tom Flesher looks absolutely terrible. I don’t know how much more of this he can take.”

 

“Flesher IS incredibly tough, Mark. He’s come back from worse than this in the past, and he can do it again tonight! Except, the damn fans are distracting him.”

 

Sure enough, a few of the fans have started up a “FLESHER! FLESHER!” chant. Flesher seems slightly uncomfortable, but the fans have nothing to do with it. He tries to push himself up off the mat, but Thoth charges in and slams him with a low kick to the face! He grabs the top rope, and as Flesher holds his hands up to try to block his face, Thoth callously kicks him over and over again. He hits Flesher’s jaw, his forehead, his cheekbone, and continues assaulting him until Eddy Long finally steps in to give Flesher space. Thoth steps back and, sensing a perfect moment, serenely shoots the crowd the finger. As he smiles with smug self-satisfaction, the fans simply explode with boos. They burst into a chant of “YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK!” usually reserved for Flesher. Thoth simply smiles and, with depraved indifference for Flesher’s well-being, kicks him once more for good measure.

 

“What Thoth is doing is just unconscionable,” says Mark Stevens. “He’s just… trying to kick Flesher’s ass!”

 

“Well gee, better lock him up,” says Riley. “Come on, Stevens, I don’t like it any better than you do, but you’ve got to hand it to Thoth. He’s pulling out all the stops to grind Flesher into hamburger. It might not be pretty, and it might not work, but Thoth’s showing true dedication here.”

 

Thoth backs away once again, avoiding Eddy Long’s admonitions. Flesher slowly gets to his feet and starts out of the corner, but Thoth turns and snags him with a lightning-fast snapmare! Flesher hits the mat and starts to crack his neck, feeling it beginning to twinge under the continuous assault. He doesn’t have much of a chance to crack it, though, as Thoth leaps forward, grabbing Flesher’s head and doing a rolling neck snap! He lands seated on the mat, and Flesher’s whole body snaps backwards. The Balancer takes a moment to smile, showing true malevolence as he looks over his shoulder and sees the dazed Mag-7 leader holding his head. Instead of going for the pin, though, Thoth decides to inflict just a little more pain. He stands up, then takes a few steps toward Flesher and jumps, diving toward him with his knees cocked! … but Flesher rolls out of the way! He avoids the kneedrop by mere inches as Thoth impacts the mat. Flesher sits up, pulling himself to his feet on the ropes. Thoth takes a few extra seconds to get to his feet, but Flesher, stunned, can’t capitalize. As he stands up, Thoth shakes his knee out to try to rid himself of the pain of the missed knee drop.

“That may have been Flesher’s stroke of luck,” says Mark Stevens. “If Thoth had hit it, Tom might have been down for the count, and with the challenger slowed down, Flesher can slow the match down and control where it goes.”

 

“I hope so,” says Riley. “Thoth’s not very exciting.”

 

“Not exciting? He’s been kicking Flesher’s ass around the ring all day! Are you telling me you’d rather see Flesher laying on the mat trying to pretzel Thoth into some sort of Mr. Salty lock, when you can see all this impact?”

 

“I happen to like Mr. Salty, Mark.”

 

Finally getting his senses back, Flesher steps forward, slamming a palm strike into Thoth’s jaw! Thoth, caught off-guard, steps backwards. Flesher lowers his level and shoots in, grabbing the Clan leader by the ankle and trying to pull him to the mat with a single-leg takedown! Thoth sprawls backwards, but can’t break Flesher’s lock. Instead, he bends over, curling his body around Flesher’s, locking around his head and forcing him to splay out on the mat. He posts his free leg between Flesher’s legs and hooks one, then rolls backwards with the cradle counter to a low single-leg! He holds Flesher on his back with the small package as Eddy Long counts

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

NO! Flesher breaks the splaydle and rolls away! “Thoth, very impressively breaking out the splaydle,” says Mark Stevens. “Tom Flesher has just been rolling over the competition using that low single-leg, the same that carried American John Smith to numerous World and Olympic medals… and Thoth’s clearly been doing his research.”

 

“Oh, come on,” says Riley. “Who doesn’t know the splaydle?”

 

“Most of Flesher’s opponents, apparently,” replies Stevens. “But it shouldn’t surprise anyone to see Thoth using counters to Flesher’s freestyle moves, since he’s had his sights set on the World Title since even before Tom won it from Taylor Thompson.”

 

Flesher gets up, obviously shaken by being caught with a move he hasn’t seen in ages. Thoth, his thoughts sharp and clear, opens up, offering Flesher a bodylock. Instinctively, Flesher steps in to lock up the bearhug for a suplex. Thoth, however, steps back, leaving Flesher in an awkward, over-extended position. Having created the opportunity, Thoth dives in and grabs Flesher by the hips. He ducks his head under Flesher’s arm, tightening the lock and seizing the moment to arch backwards with a Northern Lights suplex! Tom realizes too late that he’s in the air and simply braces for impact. Thoth holds him in place as Eddy Long drops down to count

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

NO! Flesher kicks out as Long’s hand is just millimeters from the canvas! Thoth rolls out, frustrated but not letting his emotions get the better of him. Instead, he lets Flesher stand up, then grabs him in bodyslam position. The fans, seeing what’s about to happen, immediately begin to boo, and Thoth locks his hands.

 

“Here it comes!” says Mark Stevens. “Thoth has been attacking the back and the neck throughout the match, and this is where it all pays off! The Riot of the Blood, the cradle tombstone piledriver… it’s over!”

 

Flesher panics and tries to wriggle free from the hold, and the Balancer pauses to try to readjust his grip. Sensing an opening, the mat technician reaches back and locks his hands on Thoth’s wrist. He continues wriggling to throw Thoth off, then rolls to the mat! The fans explode as Tom Flesher hits the mat with Thoth locked in an airtight jujigatame! They start a screaming chant of “TAP! TAP! TAP!” as Yuuchiro frantically makes for the ropes! The fans are on their feet!

 

“Oh my god!” screams Mark Stevens. “WHAT A COUNTER! Dear sweet mother of god, Flesher counters the Riot of the Blood into a crucifix armbar, and Thoth is in trouble!”

 

“This is incredible!” shouts Riley. “I want to have that man’s children!”

 

Thoth throws his free arm and both legs around, trying desperately to get to the edge of the mat. He looks for the ropes, but as he strains to reach them, the World Champion pulls himself back, moving the Japanese cultist squarely to the middle of the squared circle! The fans, practically rioting, continue screaming “TAP! TAP! TAP!” at the leader of the Clan, and Flesher cranks the deadly joint lock. He pulls Thoth’s arm, hyperextending it and trying to yank it out of the socket. Flesher’s face is a mask of intensity as he focuses on Thoth’s wrist and elbow, trying to force both joints against each other. Thoth’s face twists as he tries to hold out, tries to reverse the hold, tries to escape.

 

“Tom Flesher is just punishing Thoth’s arm!” says Grand Slam, with an air of disbelief. “He so rarely uses the jujigatame, but it just might…”

 

“It’s going to get him the win! You just watch, Mark Stevens!”

 

Thoth, showing a superhuman threshold of pain, holds out. He pulls himself a few inches toward the ropes, but as soon as he does, the Magnificent Seven’s leader slides backwards. Finally, there’s nothing else to do.

 

 

 

 

TAP. TAP. TAP.

 

 

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!!!!

 

 

The fans explode! They burst into cheers at the vanquishing of the Balancer, almost forgetting that the man they’re cheering is the man who retired El Luchadore Magnifico, the man who respects no one but himself…

 

The man who just broke Edwin MacPhisto’s last record.

 

“SIX!” screams Bobby Riley. “SIX WORLD TITLE DEFENSES! THIS MAN’S A GOD DAMN MACHINE!”

 

“Kashmir” explodes over the sound system as Flesher releases Thoth from the hold. He leaps into the air, thrilled at the match and thrilled with the new record for consecutive World Title defenses. Funyon announces, “Your winner, and STILL SWF World Heavyweight Champion, TOM FLESHERRRRRRRRRRRRRR!”

 

Thoth, meanwhile, rolls away, holding his left arm. His expression seems to say, “Flesher, you got lucky this time. Next time you won’t catch me.”

 

Tom Flesher looks back. Tired but energized, he slings his World Title belt over his shoulder. He looks down at the defeated challenger, and without a word, tells Thoth, “Next time I won’t have to.”

 

“Fans, what an Independence Day edition of SWF Lockdown!” says Mark Stevens. “We’ll be back on July 7th, but until then check us out at http://www.theswf.net/ for the latest news and columns by your favorite SWF superstars!”

 

“And nude photos of Tom Flesher!”

 

“Bobby, we’ve got to stop letting you near that airbrush.”

 

With that, SWF Lockdown fades away.

 

 

SWF Lockdown, July 2, 2003.

© White Apple Productions.

All Rights Reserved.

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation: “Raising Workrate by Typing Faster.”

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

So did you show?