SWF Storm Losing Matches

[Guest Mr. Slim Citrus]

Well, it's that time again, boys and girls! A show's just been posted, which means it must be time to post my losing match! Go Me!

 

I'm beginning to wonder if I may be overdue for a break...

 

==========

 

“Welcome back to Storm, ladies and gentlemen,” says Mark Stevens. “Tonight’s show has already gotten off to a great start, and now business is really about to pick up! One of the rising stars in our industry, the Wildchild, is about to compete in a special open challenge!”

 

Bobby Riley turns to look at Stevens, a frown on his face. “Where do you get off calling Wildchild a rising star? He hasn’t won a match in a solid month!”

 

“He’s also gone against some of the very best in the business in the last month,” replies Stevens. “He gave Danny Williams all he could handle for the ICTV title at 13th Hour, he made a strong accounting of himself in the 10-man Battle Royal, and he probably would have beaten Justice and Rule, had his former partner, Johnny Dangerous not betrayed him!”

 

Riley snorts at this. “Wishful thinking, at best! NOBODY beats Justice and Rule!”

 

“Don’t be so quick to say ‘nobody,’ Bobby,” says Stevens. “The Unholy Trinity get another shot at the Tag Team Titles tonight, this time with Dace Night teaming up with Va’aiga!”

 

“Dace couldn’t beat Justice and Rule, even with Danny Williams carry his oversized ass! What makes him think he can do any better with the recently bumped Va’aiga?”

 

“Well, I’m not going to proclaim them new champions, or anything,” replies Stevens, “but, unlike you, I’m not going to count the Trinity out; they don’t come much tougher than the Maori Badass and the High Priest of Horrorcore!

 

“Which brings us back to our next match; Wildchild and Ejiro Fasaki just recently rekindled the feud that made them both into legends down in the SJL…”

 

“Now, wait just a minute, there,” interrupts Riley. “Ejiro would have been great with or without Wildchild. If anything, you could say that Rule made Wildchild, but that’s about it!”

 

“I beg to differ,” responds Stevens. “While there’s no question that Ejiro, with his talent as a wrestler, would have become the SJL champion, with or without Wildchild being there. But Fasaki was one of the most bland, uninteresting wrestlers to ever come through the JL. He may be better than anyone else, and he may even be able to prove it, but nobody cared.

 

“Until the Wildchild caught his attention. If nothing else, Wildchild gave him something to focus his emotions on. The Bahama Bomber was responsible for igniting the fire within Fasaki that enabled him to make the leap from merely being a very good wrestler into a future superstar! If anything, they made each other!”

 

Riley shakes his head. “I still think you’re giving Wildchild entirely too much credit!”

 

“At any rate,” Stevens continues, “back on Smarkdown, Ejiro came out victorious in their first meeting here in the SWF, thanks to the illegal use of the tights, I might add!”

 

“Hey,” says Riley with a grin, “it’s only cheating if you get caught!”

 

Stevens turns away from Riley, grimacing. “As I was SAYING, Wildchild wanted another shot at Ejiro tonight, but since Rule is tied up in the Tag Title match, Wildchild laid down an open challenge to any SWF superstar, past or present, to face him in the ring tonight!”

 

“I’d love to see this come back to bite him in the ass,” Riley says with a grin. “Maybe it’ll be Jay Dawg; he’s not scheduled to appear tonight!”

 

“It could very well be Jay Dawg,” agrees Stevens. “Hell, it could be anybody. It could even be Outcast…”

 

Mark and Bobby exchange glances, each stifling a laugh…

 

“NAH!”

 

Suddenly, Smashing Pumpkins’ “The Everlasting Gaze” begins to blare through the arena. The crowd in the Nutter Center goes crazy as Wildchild bursts through the curtain and onto the stage. The Bahama Bomber is dressed in aquamarine jump pants and his now familiar officially licensed t-shirt. He jogs down towards the ring, slapping hands with the fans as he makes his way down the ramp, when he comes to a stop, his attention caught by a fan a standing near the barricade, holding a sign which reads, “I CAME TO SEE DE WILDCHILD!”

 

“Indeed,” says Stevens, acknowledging the sign. “A lot of people come SWF events to see the Wildchild; he’s one of the most popular young stars we’ve had to come through here in quite some time!”

 

Pausing briefly to pose with the fan in front of the camera, Wildchild removes his t-shirt and gives it to the fan before proceeding down to the ring. Somersaulting between the bottom and middle ropes, Wildchild rolls to his feet and raises his arms in the air, waving them around to get the crowd pumped up.

 

Standing across the ring from him, “Funyon lifts the microphone to his mouth and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, the following Special Open Challenge match is scheduled for one fall, with a fifteen minute time limit! In the ring at this time, from the Bahamas, weighing two hundred fourteen pounds, the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” The crowd begins to cheer louder as the Bahama Bomber leaps onto the top rope and begins banging his head in time to his music.

 

“This crowd is getting pumped up for the Wildchild,” shouts Stevens, “and with good reason; they know that they can always count on seeing some electrifying offense when the Wildchild is in the ring!”

 

“They might not see a victory,” Riley says mockingly, “but they’ll damn sure see some flippin’ and flyin’!”

 

Wildchild paces around the ring anxiously as “The Everlasting Gaze” fades into oblivion.

 

“And, his opponent…”

 

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

 

“Do you have any idea who it is,” asks Riley.

 

“No a clue,” replies Stevens. “But, we should all find out here, in just a few seconds!”

 

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

 

The lights in the arena dim slightly as a simple drum beat and a mellow bass line begins to drift through the speakers…

 

 

DAMN, IT FEELS GOOD TO BE A GANGSTA!

 

 

 

“It CAN’T be!”

 

 

A series of strobe lights begin to pulse throughout the arena, and the crowd goes crazy as they begin to recognize the beat of Geto Boys’ “Damn, It Feels Good to Be a Gangsta!” A spotlight shines on the curtain, as out steps a black-haired Andrew Blackman.

 

Mark Stevens begins blubbering, “It’s Sacred! Sacred is back!”

 

“My God,” stammers Riley. “What’s HE doing back here?”

 

Dressed in black dress pants, and a dark blue shirt, the blue-green-eyed Sacred one begins to slowly walk down the ramp, barely acknowledging the crowd with a faint nod.

 

“And, his opponent,” bellows Funyon, “from Adelaide, Australia! Weighing two hundred twenty-eight pounds! He is making his grand return to the Smarks Wrestling Federation! He has held every title in SWF History! He! Is! SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACRED!”

 

Sacred slides underneath the bottom rope to enter the ring, and uses the top rope to pull himself to his feet. He removes his tie, tossing casually behind him into the crowd, and loosens the top button of his shirt. The crowd in the Nutter Center has become divided, with half of them chanting for Wildchild, and the other half chanting for Sacred. Referee Billy Chiota motions for the timekeeper to ring the bell to start the match.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Wildchild extends his arm across the ring, offering a show of sportsmanship to the returning Blackwell. Sacred peers down the end of his nose at Wildchild’s hand with mild disdain, before reluctantly reaching out to accept it…

 

 

WHACK!

 

… Which he does, but then immediately pulls Wildchild into him, twisting his body towards the incoming Bahama Bomber and blasting him in the face with a short-arm elbow smash! Again, half the crowd cheers and half boos at the Sacred One’s aggressive move.

 

“Nice elbow by Sacred,” says Riley. “Doesn’t look like ring rust is going to be a problem!”

 

“There’s no question that Sacred’s been keeping himself in shape,” replies Stevens, “but, there’s no substitute for actual in-ring experience, take my word on that! Especially against top-notch competition like Wildchild!”

 

“Again,” says Riley, “I think you’re rating this kid a little too high.”

 

Sacred grabs Wildchild by the arm and pulls him to his feet. Still holding onto the arm, Sacred whips Wildchild to the ropes, and drops his shoulder as the Bahama Bomber bounces off. The Sacred One gets a good lift and launches Wildchild high into the air, but the Bahama Bomber twists through the air with uncanny agility, and lands on his feet behind him, lunging forward and trapping him in a go-behind waistlock.

 

“I don’t know how much research Sacred did on Wildchild, if any,” says Riley, “but he appears to be taken a little off guard by the extent of Wildchild’s agility so far.”

 

“If that’s taken him off guard,” replies Stevens, “wait till he sees the kid go up top!”

 

 

SMACK!

 

SMACK!

 

Sacred swings his arm back and pops Wildchild in the face with a couple of fierce elbows, causing him to loosen his grip on the waistlock, and allowing Sacred to reverse with a standing switch, and applying a waistlock of his own. Sacred lifts Wildchild off the ground and tosses him overhead to deliver a release German suplex, but Wildchild flips through and lands on his feet, reapplying the waistlock and pushing Sacred towards the ropes. Sacred latches onto the top rope and snaps his body backwards, flinging Wildchild off, and the Bahama Bomber flips backwards into the center of the ring. Sacred steps a few feet away from the ropes, and Wildchild charges forward, leaping into the air and landing in a seated position on the Sacred One’s shoulders.

 

“Wildchild looking for a hurricanrana,” says Stevens, “but Sacred appears to be doing a good job of fighting it!”

 

Sacred instinctively raises his arms up and holds them against Wildchild’s back, preventing the Tropical Tumbler from getting enough momentum to arch back and take him over with a rana. Bringing his hands forward and clasping them around Wildchild’s waist like a seat belt, Sacred spins around towards the edge of the ring, and drops Wildchild down in a powerbomb motion against the top rope! Spinning back towards the inside of the ring as Wildchild bounces off the top rope, Sacred begins to powerbomb him into the mat, but this time, the Caribbean Cruiserweight is able to use his momentum to arch his body backwards as he descends, yanking the Sacred One abruptly off his feet, and pulling him through the air, sending him tumbling to the other side of the ring with a nifty rana! Both men spring to their feet simultaneously, and the crowd breaks into wild applause.

 

“This match has gotten off to an incredible start,” says Stevens.

 

Wildchild and Sacred approach each other in the center of the ring and engage in a collar-and-elbow tie-up, which Sacred takes advantage of by shifting to a side headlock. He then drops to his knees and uses leverage to take Wildchild off his feet and down to the mat.

 

“Nice side headlock takeover by Sacred,” notes Stevens.

 

Sacred leans forward into Wildchild’s chest, trying to get a cheap pin by forcing his shoulders to the mat. The referee drops down to check Wildchild’s shoulders, but the Bahama Bomber bends at the waist, bringing his legs up to his chest, and wrapping them around Sacred’s neck with a head scissors. Wildchild turns over, forcing Blackwell’s shoulders to the canvas, but the Sacred One quickly escapes. Both men make it back to their feet, and Sacred charges Wildchild, but the Bahama Bomber takes him over with an armdrag. He transitions into an arm wringer and pulls Sacred to his feet. Sliding down further into a wristlock, Wildchild races to the nearest corner, pulling Sacred along behind him. He leaps onto the top turnbuckle and runs across the top rope, still holding onto Sacred’s arm, and then suddenly leaps off the top rope, over Sacred’s head and into the ring, taking the Sacred One back to the mat with an electrifying springboard armdrag!

 

“What a waste of energy,” snorts Riley. “He could have just done a plain old armdrag for all of that!”

 

“He could have,” replies Stevens, “but Wildchild is all about pleasing the fans. He likes to add that little extra something, to make the crowd happy!”

 

“That little extra something is why he’ll never be anything in this business,” says Riley. “I’m telling you, he should have accepted Ejiro’s offer; I’ll bet that once he gets that flip-floppy crap out of his system, he’d actually be a half-decent wrestler.”

 

“Well,” replies Stevens, “Wildchild trained with Dean Malenko down in Tampa, Florida, so he’s already a ‘half-decent’ wrestler. He just wants to set himself apart from the Ejiro’s of the world!”

 

Wildchild, still holding onto Sacred’s arm, gets to his feet, pulling his opponent up as well. Sacred raises his free hand to Wildchild’s face, and jams his palm underneath Wildchild’s chin, forcing him back against the ropes. He then takes his hand away from Wildchild’s face and whips him towards the opposite end of the ring, but the Bahama Bomber pivots on his heel, reversing the whip attempt.

 

WHAM!

 

Wildchild leapfrogs Sacred as he bounces off the ropes, and springs back into the air the second his feet touch the canvas, flipping backwards in the air and blasting the rebounding Sacred in the face with both feet with a Backflip Kick!

 

“Looks like Wildchild is starting to kick it into high gear,” notes Stevens.

 

Wildchild races towards the opposite end of the ring as Sacred uses the ropes to pull himself up. Bouncing off the ropes build momentum, the Bahama Bomber leaps into the air to crash into Sacred, but he ducks down as Wildchild goes sailing over the top rope!

 

SLAM!

 

Wildchild grabs onto the top rope as he sails out of the ring, and uses it to steer himself down to the ring apron. Sacred starts to stand up with his back to the ropes, and Wildchild grabs him on each side of his head by the hair, slamming him down to the mat!

 

“He grabbed the hair,” bellows Riley. “Disqualify him, ref!”

 

 

WHAM!

 

Wildchild leaps onto the top rope and runs across it to the corner, jumping from it down to the opposing middle rope, and using that as a springboard to flip into the ring, crashing into Sacred’s chest with a springboard moonsault! The referee dives into position to count the pin…

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

Kickout!

 

 

Wildchild pulls Sacred to his feet and grabs him by his left arm, whipping him hard into the corner. He rushes in after his opponent, but the Sacred One dips his shoulder, lifting him into the air and over the top rope.

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

Wildchild lands on his feet on the apron, but this time, Sacred anticipates his agility and leaps onto the middle turnbuckle, springing off and blasting Wildchild in the face with a dropkick that sends him flying off the apron to the arena floor!

 

“Excellent heads up maneuver by Sacred,” says Stevens.

 

SPLASH!

 

Sacred races towards the opposite end of the ring, bouncing off the ropes as Wildchild gets back to his feet, and lunges through the ropes, crashing into Wildchild with a sensational Suicide Dive!

 

“I love it,” says Riley. “Sacred is using Wildchild’s own style against him!”

 

 

SA-CRED!

SA-CRED!

SA-CRED!

SA-CRED!

 

Sacred ignores the fans chanting his name and pulls Wildchild to his feet, leading him over to the corner and rolling him underneath the bottom rope. Sliding underneath the bottom rope after him, Sacred pulls both himself and his opponent to their feet. Leaning the Bahama Bomber against the ropes, Sacred rears his arm back and whips it fiercely through the air, slicing his flattened-out hand into Wildchild’s bare chest.

 

 

SMACK! WHOO!

SMACK! WHOO!

SMACK! WHOO!

SMACK! WHOO!

 

“Sacred’s laying into Wildchild with a series of brutal knife-edge chops,” says Stevens. “And now, he pulls him off for the Irish whip to the far side!”

 

 

WHAM!

 

Sacred scoops Wildchild in his arms as he bounces off the ropes, twisting him around and slamming him onto his outstretched thigh with a Tilt-a-Whirl Backbreaker!

 

“My, what a devastating Tilt-a-Whirl Backbreaker by Sacred,” cries Stevens. “I have to give him a lot of credit; when Wildchild started to speed things up, I was worried that Sacred’s ring rust was going to cost him the match, but right now, it doesn’t look like there’s any ring rust on him at all! He’s taken all the starch out of Wildchild, and is now firmly in control of this match!”

 

Sacred pulls Wildchild to his feet and grabs him by the arm, whipping him into the far corner. Wildchild crashes back-first into the turnbuckles, and Sacred charges in after him, lowering his shoulder to deliver a spear!

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… But the Bahama Bomber grabs onto the top ropes and pulls his lower body off the mat, causing Sacred to crash into the turnbuckle underneath him! Wildchild hooks his legs underneath Sacred’s shoulders and falls forward, pinning his shoulders to the mat with a Sunset Flip!

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THR— TWO AND A HALF!

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

Sacred rolls out of the Sunset Flip and immediately pops to his feet, rushing towards Wildchild and blasting him in the face with a running boot! Showing signs of frustration, the Sacred One tugs at his collar as he begins assaulting Wildchild with a barrage of stomps to the head and chest!

 

 

STOMP!

STOMP!

STOMP!

STOMP!

STOMP!

STOMP!

 

“I love it,” crows Riley. “He’s going to stomp Wildchild a new orifice!”

 

“He definitely seems perturbed,” agrees Stevens. “I think he was a little surprised by the rookie’s resiliency!”

 

“Can’t blame him for that,” replies Riley. “Wildchild isn’t exactly known for his ability to take punishment!”

 

Sacred pulls Wildchild up off the mat by his hair and grabs his arm, whipping him towards the ropes, but the Bahama Bomber reverses!

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

Sacred leaps into the air as he bounces off the ropes and blasts him in the face with a flying forearm that sends him falling down to the mat. The Sacred One hooks the leg as he lies atop the Caribbean Cruiser, and Billy Chiota dives into position to count the pin:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREEEE—NO!

 

 

Chiota holds up two fingers as Wildchild just barely gets the left shoulder up. Perturbed, Sacred pulls Wildchild to his feet sharply and whips him towards the ropes. Sacred scoops Wildchild up into his arms as he bounces off the ropes, twisting him in the air to deliver another Tilt-a-Whirl backbreaker, but this time the Tropical Tumbler locks his legs around Sacred’s neck and pulls him off his feet, slamming him to the mat with a flying headscissors takeover!

 

“Beautiful counter by the Wildchild,” exclaims Stevens. “He was ready for the Tilt-a-Whirl that time!”

 

Sacred beats Wildchild to his feet, and pulls him up as well, but in a surprising burst of energy, Wildchild bats Sacred’s hands away and punches him in the face with a hard right hand! Sacred staggers backwards as Wildchild follows up that punch with two more!

 

“Wildchild’s trying to mount a comeback,” cries Stevens.

 

 

WHAM!

 

Wildchild rears back to take a heavy swing at Sacred, but Sacred ducks down, causing Wildchild to swing around from the force of his punch, and pops back up behind him, snaring his head in an inverted front facelock, and driving him down to the mat with a reverse DDT!

 

Riley chuckles mirthfully. “Shortest. Comeback. Ever.”

 

Sacred reaches across Wildchild’s body and hooks the leg as Chiota counts the pin:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THREEEEEENOWAY!

 

 

Sacred rolls to his knees and claps his hands in the referee’s face, but Chiota shakes his head and holds up two fingers in response. Frustration setting in, Sacred pulls Wildchild back to his feet and applies a waistlock. He lifts the Bahama Bomber off the mat in a bearhug, and rushes into the corner, driving the Caribbean Cruiser’s back into the turnbuckle pad.

 

 

WHACK!

WHACK!

WHACK!

WHACK!

WHACK!

 

As Wildchild slumps over in the corner, Sacred batters him with a battery of overhead forearm smashes! Finally relenting, the Sacred One grabs his opponent by the arm and whips him into the opposite corner.

 

 

WHACK!

 

 

Sacred charges into the corner, leaping into the air to deliver a flying forearm, but Wildchild rolls out of the corner to safety, and springs to his feet as Sacred turns around, thrusting his leg in the air and blasting Sacred in the face with a shuffling sidekick!

 

WHAM!

 

Wildchild stumbles backwards towards the other corner, but quickly recovers his bearings and charges into the corner, leaping into the air, and twisting as he crashes down into Sacred’s chest with his patented Blue Crush attack!

 

 

“Blue Crush,” shouts Stevens. “That may have been the opening that Wildchild needed!”

 

Sacred falls down to the canvas face-first, and Wildchild rolls him over to apply a cover…

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREEEEEEEEETWOCOUNTONLY!

 

 

“That Blue Crush may have bought him some time,” says Riley, “but it’s obvious that Sacred still has a lot of fight left! It’s going to take a lot more to put him down!”

 

Wildchild pulls Sacred to his feet and forces him up against the ropes. He grabs him by the arm and whips him towards the opposite end of the ring, but the Sacred One reverses!

 

 

BAM!

 

 

Wildchild leaps onto the top rope as he reaches the edge of the ring, and curls into a ball as he springs off, smashing Sacred in the chest with a Pinball attack!

 

“Pinball,” cries Stevens, “and it looks like Wildchild is starting to get his second wind!”

 

Wildchild runs to the ropes as Sacred starts to get to his feet and bounces off the ropes, twisting away from Sacred’s bent over body as he rebounds, and landing on his shoulders. The Sacred One jerks his back upwards reflexively, but the Bahama Bomber locks his legs around Sacred’s throat in a reverse headscissors, and arches backwards, snatching Sacred off the ground and flipping him backwards into the ropes.

 

“Junkanoo,” exclaims Stevens. “JUNK-A-NOOOOOO!”

 

 

WHAM!

 

Wildchild braces himself against the ropes as he waits for Sacred to stand back up, and then dashes across the ring, leaping off the canvas and whipping his leg sharply through the air, knocking Sacred through the ropes with a crushing leg lariat! Rolling back to his feet inside the ring, Wildchild raises his arms and circles his arms above his head, signaling his springboard DDT to the crowd.

 

“Wildchild’s looking to put this match away,” shouts Stevens. “He’s going for the Tornado DDT!”

 

Wildchild jogs around the ring, building up momentum as he waits for Sacred to get to his feet on the apron, and races back towards the corner, leaping onto the second turnbuckle as he prepares to spring outside the ring, but Sacred drops off the apron and steps away from the ring, avoiding the DDT attempt. Wildchild leaps onto the top turnbuckle and stares at Sacred from inside the ring, as the crowd begins to berate him.

 

“Can you believe these people,” grumbles Riley. “Getting on Sacred for actually having the intelligence to get out of the way of that DDT attempt!”

 

 

SPLASH!

 

 

Wildchild leaps from the top turnbuckle to the middle of the top rope as Sacred starts to walk back towards the ring, twisting in the air so that he lands in a seated position on the top rope facing the ring, and then bounces off the top rope, flipping backwards and extending his limbs as he crashes into Sacred with a breathtaking layout springboard moonsault!

 

“Oh My God,” exclaims Stevens. “What an unbelievable moonsault variation by the Wildchild! He just stuck his tongue out at the laws of physics!”

 

Wildchild rolls to his feet and picks Sacred up, leading over to the ring, and rolling him underneath the bottom rope. He hops onto the ring apron and climbs to the top turnbuckle. The crowd goes crazy as he extends his arms in a crucifix position, signaling the Andros Drop.

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

“Andros Drop,” screams Stevens. “That should do it!” Wildchild hooks the far leg as Billy Chiota dives into position to count the pin:

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

THREEEEEIDON’TTHINKSO!

 

 

“He kicks out,” wheezes Riley. “Sacred kicks out!” Wildchild pulls Sacred to his feet and turns to face the crowd, raising his arms above his head and quickly bringing them down to his chest in a clutching motion.

 

“Oh my God,” shouts Stevens as the crowd goes wild with anticipation. “We could be about to see the Wild Ride! If he hits this, it’s over!”

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

Wildchild’s back still to him Sacred sneaks up behind the Bahama Bomber and traps him in a waistlock, lifting him off the canvas and falling backwards, planting Wildchild in the mat with a crushing German Suplex!

 

“German,” shouts Riley. “That’ll take the starch out of him!”

 

 

WHAM!

 

Still holding onto the waistlock, Sacred rolls over onto his knees, and pulls Wildchild to his feet as he starts to stand up. With his head hanging below Wildchild’s shoulder blades, Sacred bends down to get that extra lift as he pops his hips, lifting Wildchild back off the mat, and dropping him back down with another German Suplex!

 

 

“Oh,” crows Riley, “this is beautiful. Hit him with one more, Sacred!”

 

Continuing hold onto the waistlock, Sacred pulls himself and Wildchild back to their feet. He lowers his head and bends down to lift Wildchild a third time, but the Bahama Bomber slips his leg back, wrapping it behind Sacred’s knee, and blocking the suplex attempt. As Sacred tries to regain control, Wildchild slithers his arms inside of Sacred’s arms, locking his elbows underneath Sacred’s forearms. He unlocks his leg from behind Sacred’s knee, and before Sacred can react, Wildchild swings his legs forward, taking him off backwards and releasing his grip on the waistlock. With Sacred no longer able to hold onto the waistlock, Wildchild raises his arms up at the elbows, and pulls Sacred closer to him, his head jammed into the small of the Bahama Bomber’s back.

 

 

WHAAAAAMMMM!!!

 

 

In an instant, Wildchild kicks his legs out from under him and crashes to the mat, driving the top of Sacred’s head into the mat!

 

“Oh My God,” exclaims Stevens. “What an amazing counter to the Rolling Germans! Reverse Double-Underhook Piledriver by Wildchild! He calls that the Wild-Driver!”

 

 

Wildchild releases Sacred’s arms and rolls him over, reaching across his lifeless body to grab his far leg, as the referee counts the pin:

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEE!

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

The crowd goes bananas as “The Everlasting Gaze” begins to pump back through the speakers. The referee raises Wildchild’s arm in victory as Funyon rises from his ringside seat and begins to speak into the microphone. “Here is your winner, the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!”

 

What an unbelievable performance by the Wildchild,” cries Stevens. “An unexpected counter led to the Wild-Driver, and puts Wildchild back in the win column! We’ll right back, ladies and gentlemen, with more hot SWF action!”

 

As we:

FADE OUT

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

WC, I know I said this last week. I know it doesn't mean much. But you just, once again, BARELY lost. I know that's little consolation, but you were facing a former world champ who's in the frickin' Hall of Fame. And it was REALLY close. I had to go to points again.

 

Watch for the Lockdown card. Sometimes, even if you lose, your good writing gets noticed.

[Guest Mr. Slim Citrus]

I'm not sweating it, Edwin; Wildchild turns every negative into a positive! I'm in a can't miss feud with Ejiro right now: even losses help out my storyline.

 

Still, I'm 0-6, match-wise, since 13th Hour, and the only match I "won" was a loss, by pre-arranged agreement. Losing constantly does get to me a little, but I'm cool. Hell, I get to spend August with my son; I'm not sweating anything right now!

 

 

EDIT - I've finally posted in here enough for the SWF to be listed as "Most Active In" in my board profile! Yay me!

[Guest Suicide King]

I must second Edwin here. You're due for great things, WC, that's why we consistently book you against the best we have to offer.