SJL Metal - Wednesday, April 3rd

April 4, 2002

The sign outside Dayton, Ohio flashes with the words "SJL Metal," which quickly fade into "SOLD OUT!", as we cut to a shot inside the Ervin J. Nutter Center! The fans are roaring as we pan around the arena, showing signs that say "STRYKE THREE!", "X Force 9!", and many other slogans/catchphrases, all in magnificently sparkling letters. We zoom into the commentary booth, where Axis, Edwin Macphisto, and the Suicide King sit, preparing to call tonight's action!

"(Axis) WEEEEEEEEEEELCOME TO METAAAAAALLLL!"

"(Edwin) Woo woo! Shake that groove thang!"

"(King) For heaven's sake, shut up… please…"

"(Axis) Yes, yes… tonight, we have a spectacular tag main event for contendership to the World title, pitting X Force 9's team of Ash Ketchum and Erek Taylor, our World champion, against the makeshift team of Stryke and Flexxx!"

"(King) What's with the x's in his name?"

"(Edwin) He's a porn star, nitwit."

"(Axis) Very well… also tonight, The Superior One, Tom Flesher, the European Champion, defends his title against Ced Ordonez in a special referee match refereed by none other than the Fallen Angel, Shawn Brody!"

"(Edwin) That should be a real barn-"

"(King) IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT IT SHOULD BE!"

"(Axis, after no-selling that comment) Yes, but opening us up is a triple threat Hardcore Submissions match between Frost, Randy Turner, and Z! So, without further ado, let's send it to Funyon for the introductions!"

Funyon raises the mic to his lips to speak, when the lights go down all over the arena as "Runaway" by Linkin Park kicks up. Suddenly, a blue spotlight shines down on the entrance ramp, where Mike Van Siclen stands, arms outstretched, microphone in his right hand. The chorus of the song starts as MVS stands cockily, bobbing his head slightly to the beat of the song.

"Now I find myself in question...

(You point the finger at me again...)"

The spotlight making Mike Van Siclen shine goes off, and the only thing in the arena is the sound of Linkin Park once more...

"Guilty by association...

(You point the finger at me again...)"

WHAM! A huge blast of white pyro goes off on the stage, illuminating Van Siclen in its glow. The lights come on, though dim, and Van Siclen walks down the ramp calmly, sliding in and spinning around, the mic in his hand as he allows Funyon to make his intro.

"(Funyon) Ladies and gentlemen, now in the ring, Mike Van Siclen!"

The crowd roars again as Mike makes a motion with his hands, pushing them downwards as if to say "Push the noise down." The crowd starts to calm as Mike raises the mic to his lips, speaking in a low voice.

"(Mike) What… the hell… happened?"

The crowd acts, for the most part, confused, as Mike speaks again.

"(Mike) What I mean is, how in the blue hell does a person like me, a fine physical specimen by the name of Mike Van Siclen, lose… not only lose, but lose cleanly… to a man who claims to be superior to everyone? That's right, I, Mike Van Siclen, lost cleanly to The Superior One himself, Tom Flesher… how?"

The crowd boos at the mention of Flesher's name as Van Siclen continues to speak.

"(Mike) I mean, look at me. I beat our World champion, our European #1 Contender, and our… heh-heh… former Television Champion in a four-way match on Metal, last week. Not only did I beat them, I beat them clean, something which Mr. Former TV Champ never could say. Then, three nights later, on a night in which I was incredibly tired and weary and in need of a good woman and a good beer… like Foster's… I am forced to defend my title against a guy who is a complete Chris Jericho wannabe? Why? Because he beat Danny Williams and good ol' Ezekiel, or Zed, or whatever the fuck his name is. So, now, I'm not the European Champion. But I won't dwell on that… because I've got this…"

Mike reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a folded piece of paper. He unfolds it as our commentary team speculates on what it is.

"(Axis) What could it be now?"

"(Edwin) Maybe it's his shopping list!"

"(King) Maybe he's going to try to make prostitution legal in Ohio!"

Mike looks at it, nodding his head before looking up and speaking again.

"(Mike) Now you see, sometimes I outdo myself. Really. And in my contract, I had my lawyer right in a clause… no, not Santa, oh ho ho… but a clause in my contract which states… (he shakes the paper to make it flatter, eyeing it carefully before speaking again) 'In the event that Mike Van Siclen should ever win and then lose the European or World titles, he will be granted an automatic rematch within the next fourteen days of losing it. If this does not occur, Mike Van Siclen claims the right to an automatic termination of contract, complete with a monthly installment of 500,000 dollars a month until either the company goes under or a period of a year is complete.'"

Mike folds the paper again and puts it back into his pocket, raising his mic to his lips once more and speaking.

"(Mike) What this means is that I will either get my title shot, on one of the next three shows… or I will run this goddamn company out of business!"

The crowd erupts into boos as Edwin growls at the commentary table, standing up and grabbing another house mic before talking.

"(Edwin) And just how do you plan to run this company out of business!"

Mike chuckles inside the ring before looking back at Macphisto.

"(Mike) I'm calling your bluff, Edwin. You think I don't know how much financial trouble you're in? You're working with three million dollars. If I don't get my title shot, you owe me six. Granted, that's over a period of a year, but how long can you last? You can't. Therefore, I believe you'd agree with me when I say that you should grant me my title shot on Crimson!"

Edwin looks at Mike, a glint in his eyes as he responds.

"(Edwin) You want your title shot? I'll think about it…"

The crowd cheers as Mike looks at his commissioner in disgust.

"(Mike) Whatever you say, Macphisto… but I'd better get it, or else… moving on, however, we come to the case of one Tom Flesher, who took my European title away on Crimson!"

The crowd boos even more at the name of Tom Flesher as Mike continues on.

"(Mike) Tom, you've got a lotta people backing you up. I mean, let's face it. You've got Shawn Brody, the Fallen Angel, who holds three victories over me. You've got Melissa, my (fake cough) slutty (end fake cough) ex-girlfriend who seems to have a talent for mace spray. But, you know what Tom? I can combat both of them. But I can't do it myself… I need help. So tonight… I go off, and I will find those happy people to back me up. And then, Tom, you will win your European title match, because I want to win over you and win back my title at the same time. And then… (Mike checks his watch in the ring)… and then, in roughly two minutes my limo's gonna leave without me… my rental expires. And THAT'S!… what I said!"

Mike drops the mic and slides out of the ring, Runaway starting up as Mike runs up the ramp and the commentary trio begin to speak.

"(Axis) Harsh words by Mike Van Siclen, but who will he find to combat Shawn Brody?"

"(Edwin) I don't know, Axis. I just don't know."

"(King) Blah. Leave me out of your discussion."

"(Axis) Fine, King, send us to break."

"(King) We'll be back with more SJL Metal right… after… this!"

Fader…

CARD

Welcome to the Erwin Nutter Center, in Dayton, Ohio!

Hardcore Submission Match - Send to Suicide King

Frost v Z v Randy Turner!!!!

-King liked what he saw in Frost's debut, and he's decided to let the Icelander take out the Goofiest Loser in the fed. Throw in the latest n00b looking for recognition and this should make this match loads of fun! No DQ, no countouts, falls count anywhere... but you can only win by making your opponent tap or pass out from the pain!!! First submission wins, this is not, repeat, NOT elimination style.

- Word Limit: 4000

TV Title Match - Send to HVilleThugg

Kojack(champ) v T-Bone!!

-Kojack stunned the world by beating Shawn Brody for the TV title. Granted it was through some shady officiating by Ced Ordonez, but even so... King has decided Kojack gets to earn his stripes tonight against the Jobber to the Stars, T-Bone!

- Word Limit: 4500

Singles Match - Send to Edwin MacPhisto

"Deathwish" Danny Williams v The Reaper

-Williams is determined to prove to JLCC that he is the most accomplished mat wrestler to ever grace our halls! Well, King has no problem with that. Let's throw the Reaper at him and see how he mat wrestles the giant!!

- Word Limit: 4500

Singles Match - Send to HVilleThugg

Mafia vs. Jacob Helmsley!!

- Heh heh heh... carnage should abound.

- Word Limit: 4500

European Title Match - Send to Suicide King

"The Superior One" Tom Flesher(champ) v Ced Orodonez!

Special Guest Referee - "The Fallen Angel" Shawn Brody!!!!!

-If there's anything that King can't stand, it's crooked officiating. So he's decided to teach Ced a lesson in fair play by showing him what it's like to be cost a title because of a referee in the form of his most hated enemy and Flesher's pal Brody! Ced is in for a world of pain tonight... but what about former champ MVS? He's noticeably not scheduled... will he take this chance to get some revenge on Flesher? Brody may write a match if he wishes.

- Word Limit: 5000

Tag Match - Send to Edwin MacPhisto

XF9 (Erek Taylor and Ash Ketchum) v Stryke and Flexxx!!

-So Stryke doesn't like Taylor, and Flexxx doesn't like much of anyone now, eh? Well, fine. This match should make everyone, even Edwin, happy. So what's the catch? Simple. If Stryke and Flexxx win, they get to fight for the #1 contendership to the World Title on Crimson!! And if Ash and Erek win... well, I suppose a case could be made for Ash being the #1 contender, but damned if you'll get that out of the Suicide King! Talk to Edwin, whiner!

- Word Limit: 5500

April 4, 2002

And we fade back in to Axis, greeting us with a smile.

"(Axis) Welcome back, folks, and if you're just tuning in we just heard from Mike Van Siclen. But now, we'll show you what happened during the break."

We go to a shot of a limousine in what appears to be a parking garage, the driver leaning on an open driver's side door, looking at his watch as Mike Van Siclen rushes into the scene.

"(Mike) Hey, man, how much does it cost to get an extension on renting this thing?"

"(Driver) That's gonna cost you about 200 bucks."

"(Mike) For how long?"

"(Driver) About a half hour."

"(Mike) Why so expensive?"

"(Driver) You've gotta pay us enough so we can cover the paint job you had done."

"(Mike) You're kidding."

"(Driver) No! We can't exactly rent out a limousine that has the words 'Mike Van Siclen is the TRUE European Champion' written on the hood in gold spray paint, can we?"

The camera fades out to show the aforementioned paint job.

"(Mike) Oh, come on… it's just some harmless spray paint. And besides, everyone loves me!"

"(Driver) As true as that may be, you're rental time is up, so I'll be getting into this limo and driving away now…"

"(Mike) No! Uh… dammit, here's six hundred, I need to be back in time for the Ced/Flesher match…"

"(Driver) Why can't you watch it on the fucking big-screen you demanded we install in the back?"

"(Mike) You can stop mocking my limousine choices now… I have enough pull to get your ass fired!"

"(Driver) Fine, fine, whatever… just give me my six hundred bucks so we can get the hell outta here… that Frost character just walked by… he's a freak."

"(Mike) Fine… (Mike reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a wallet and extracting six hundred-dollar bills) Here's your money, (Mike hands the driver his money), so get your ass moving already… jeez…"

The driver gets into the car and Mike walks to the back and gets into his seat as the driver starts moving, the camera following it up the parking ramp and out of the Ervin J. Nutter parking garage.

Fader…

April 4, 2002

Funyon: “Our first contest this evening is a triple threat hardcore submission match. No disqualification, no count out and the winner is the first person to get one of their competitors to give up or pass out to the pain anywhere in the arena.”

Edwin: “I believe the word I’m looking for to describe my feelings here is ‘giddy’.”

Funyon: “Our first grappler, in his SJL debut, weighs in at 268 lbs. and hails from Fort Worth, Texas. He is Randy Turner!”

With that the house lights flicker out and “Prison Song” by System of a Down blares through the arena. Pyrotechnics shoot from the left side of the aisle way following the first beats of the song. Pyrotechnics shoot from the right side of the aisle way after the second set of beats. Finally, after the third set of beats a huge explosion rocks the center of the entrance ramp and as the lights come back up the mammoth Randy Turner is standing at the head of the auditorium flexing his well defined muscles to a roaring crowd, impressed by the light show alone. Turner walks to the ring with a big smile on his face to commemorate the joy on his major debut.

Axis: “Still a relatively young man, Turner has had a long and hard road here to the SJL. After being a stand out college wrestler at the University of Texas his dreams of Olympic gold and professional titles have been dashed by the cruel hand of fate.”

King: “Maybe fate is trying to tell him something. Like that he’s a loser.”

Funyon: “Now entering the arena and undefeated in his SJL career…”

Axis: “He’s had one match.”

King: “That’s still undefeated.”

Edwin: “I’m undefeated in Candyland.”

Funyon: “…from Reykjavik, Iceland and weighing 298 lbs., The Iceman from Iceland, Frooooooooost!”

Frost struts down the aisle with a sneer as “Cities on Flame with Rock ‘n Roll” by Blue Oyster Cult cuts through the sound system. Fans boo loudly and a few even throw paper and garbage his way remembering his debut from the week before. Frost holds one solitary fist up to the crowd in defiance to their jeers as he climbs to the ring apron. He stands there for a second, glaring at Turner before entering the ring. Frost climbs through the ropes and the two rookie bull elephants of the SJL circle each other in anticipation for the ring bell to start.

Funyon: “And finally, from Trenton, New Jersey and weighing in at 229lbs., Zeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

The crowd pops for one of their favorite underdogs as “Epic” plays him to the ring. Z takes small, slow steps like a condemned man heading for the gallows and, although the match has yet to start, he is sweating heavily.

Axis: “To say that Z is not the favorite in this encounter is like saying that…”

King: (interrupting) “Edwin is in line for the Nobel Prize.”

Edwin: “Or that King owns a toothbrush.”

Z slides through the bottom rope as the bell rings and Frost and Turner immediately lock up and start jockeying for position. Z looks from side to side of the two men looking for some opening as they struggle, but none is apparent. Z shrugs his shoulders and takes a seat on the top turnbuckle of the nearest corner. He rests his elbow on his knee and his face in his palm and watches the events in the ring with rapt attention. The wrestlers reach a stalemate in the center of the ring and break off. Turner runs to the ropes and throws a shoulder block. He bounces off of Frost without making him budge and Frost growls. The crowd boos. Frost runs to the ropes and throws a shoulder block. He bounces off of Turner without making him budge and Turner flexes his pecs. The crowd cheers.

Edwin: “It’s the unstoppable object meeting the immovable force. Wait, that’s not right.”

Axis: “I believe you mean the unstoppable force meeting the immovable object.”

Edwin: (scratching his temple in thought) “No, that’s not it either.”

Randy runs to the ropes and Frost catches him coming off with a scoop slam. Turner pops right up from the mat without feeling a thing. Frost runs to the ropes and Turner catches him coming off with a scoop slam. Frost pops right up from the mat without feeling a thing. Z applauds from his perch in the corner. Both men eye him for a second, but then focus back on each other and circle the ring once again.

Edwin: “How about the impenetrable mass meets the driving inertia?”

King: “How about my fist meeting your mouth if you don’t stop babbling.”

Edwin: (putting one finger to his lips in contemplation) “No, that’s not it either.”

They lock up and Turner scores a headlock. Frost pushes him off into the ropes. Turner ducks a clothesline and comes off of the opposite side of the ring with a running forearm smash. Frost teeters on the verge of falling down and Turner hits a shoulder block off of the ropes to finish the job. Z pumps his fist in the air and woofs like a dog. Turner heads to the corner to bring Z into the contest and Z leans back in fear. Frost catches Turner from behind with a Russian leg sweep to knock him off of his feet. Frost drops a series of elbows to Turner’s face.

Axis: “Z is smartly staying back and waiting for these two giant grapplers to wear themselves out before he swoops in for the kill.”

King: “If he’s smart he would have stayed home and ordered a pizza. Frost is going to break the punk off into little pieces as soon as he finishes with Turner.”

Frost picks Randy up by his head and backs him into the corner. Z cups his hands over his mouth and boos. Frost leans in to brace himself and whips Randy across the ring. Turner reverses and Frost goes flying right into Z sitting on the turnbuckle. Z tumbles to the floor dramatically, but is unhurt. Randy pounds on Frost in the corner as Z runs over to the commentator’s table. His choice of weapons includes a steel chair, the ring bell, the timekeeper’s small table, several t.v. monitors and Axis’ cup of coffee. He opts for the cup of coffee and heads back to the ring as Axis is left grasping at thin air.

Axis: “That was bloody rude to still a fellow’s cup of coffee.”

Edwin: “I like my coffee like I like my women: bitter and Irish.”

King: “I like mine hot and on the kitchen table.”

Turner whips Frost back across the ring, but he reverses and backdrops Randy on the bounce out with the aid of his momentum to get the big man over. Z slides into the ring as Frost turns to run the ropes. Z throws the lukewarm coffee in Frost’s face. Frost slowly wipes one of his huge paws down his wet face as Z crumbles the Styrofoam cup into Frost’s chest. Frost shakes the coffee off of his hand and in one smooth motion, clotheslines Z to the floor. Z holds onto to the top rope and lands on his feet. He runs back over to the commentator’s table. King takes off one of his shoes and tosses it to Z. Z salutes him in thanks and heads back to the ring.

Axis: “It’s not like you to help a fan favorite out like that, King.”

King: “Help him get an ass kicking, sure.”

Z’s distraction has allowed Turner to recover and he catches Frost with a big short arm clothesline that puts him down. Turner looks up from where Frost lies and receives a loafer full in the face with all of Z’s feeble strength. Turner’s head rolls with the blow and his cheek pops a bright, instant red. Randy’s eyes flash a brief moment of anger and he clotheslines Z to the floor. The shoe flies out of his hand and lands right on the announce table.

Edwin: “Ah, it’s raining Hush Puppies.” (He covers his head with his jacket and ducks down in his chair. King snatches his shoe and puts it back on.)

Z scrambles to his feet and back over to King asking, “You got anything else.”

King: (reaching under the commentator’s table) “I’ve got a leftover ham sandwich from Easter and an RC cola.”

Z grabs them both without a second thought and returns to the ring.

Edwin: (uncovering his head) “That was my lunch!”

King: “Here comes a sneaker.”

Edwin: “Ahhhhhh!” (he recovers his head and drops to the floor under the table)

Turner shoots Frost to the ropes, but telegraphs a backdrop and Frost kicks him in the face. Z vaults over Turner’s body with a scream of “yah” and tosses the sandwich at Frost. It slides down his oiled torso and he stares at it. He lifts his head back to Z and grabs him by the scruff of his neck for a chokeslam. Frost picks Z high up off of the mat as Z braces himself for impact. Z’s nervous fingers accidentally pull open the top of the soda and, as luck would have it, the cola is shaken up from the ring action and sprays Frost right in the eyes, blinding him. He drops Z to the mat and starts throwing wild haymakers. Z laughs at him and ducks the shots until one finally lands and Z once again flies over the ropes to the outside, landing in a crumbled heap. Turner comes up from behind the blinded Frost and puts him in a full nelson.

Axis: “Turner might be looking to go for his full nelson/body scissors combo hold known as the Lockdown.”

Edwin: (peering up from under the table) “Wasn’t that a Stallone movie?”

King: “That was Lockup.”

Edwin: “Well, either way it was no Over the Top.”

Frost fights against Turner by stepping in between Randy’s legs and rearing his foot back right into his crotch. The crowd does a sympathetic “Ooo” as Turner falls to the canvas grasping his pelvis in pain. Frost shakes his head and his vision returns. He climbs out of the ring to pursue Z. Z flips over the guardrail and heads into the crowd. Frost is in no rush and slowly makes his way through the crowd as Z desperately pleads with audience members for weapons.

Axis: “It appears as if Z is playing ‘Let’s Make a Deal’ with the fans in the hopes of finding something that can put Frost down.”

King: “He better hope there’s an off-duty cop out there with a stun gun, or maybe a retired marine with a hand grenade would work better.”

Edwin: (reclaiming his chair) “Always take curtain number 3, boy.”

Turner rolls out of the ring and steps over the guardrail with the referee in tow to follow his opponents. He is limping and still in horrible pain from the groin shot. Z is fighting with a little old lady over her purse. The elderly grandmother looking woman pulls away and clubs Z in the head with her purse repeatedly. Z ducks and covers from the blows. Frost finally catches up to Z. He picks the much smaller man up by his shoulders and headbutts him while letting go. Z sails into the concrete arena steps as if he was a Matrix extra and arches his back in anguish. The old lady whips Frost in the stomach and back with her purse. He stares at her through narrow eyes, but before he can do anything to the cantankerous old gal, Turner catches up as well and he and Frost exchange punches.

Axis: “Randy Turner just saved that elderly fan from who knows what unspeakable act.”

King: “Good thing too, that’s Edwin’s date for after the show.”

Edwin: “I’m sorry she turned you down, but I guess a night at the Motel Six was not up her alley.”

Frost whips Turner face first into the stairs and Z rolls out of the way just in time to save himself from being squashed. Frost lumbers toward Z and he jumps over Turner and sprints up the stairs. Frost steps around Turner, but Randy grabs Frost’s foot and trips him up. Frost crashes into the steps, but manages to put his beefy arms out to absorb most of the blow. He kicks back to shake Turner loose and boots him in the face. Turner falls off of the first few steps to the auditorium floor. Frost gets to his feet and coolly ascends the steps with nothing but the thought of annihilating Z on his mind for his humiliation, the rivalry with Turner based on their equal power an after thought. The referee chases up the stairs to keep an eye on the action.

Axis: “Z is searching for higher ground, but much like his promise from earlier in the week, Frost is a creature that just keeps coming.”

King: “If he keeps running like that, this match is going to turn into ‘Where’s Waldo.’” (Edwin starts chuckling softly. He then starts laughing loudly and slapping his knee) “What’s so funny?”

Edwin: (still laughing) “I was just imagining Z dressed in a candy striped sweater and hat with glasses and a cane, and then I pictured Frost in the same get up.”

Z reaches the landing in front of the top tier of seating, looks around him like a chased rabbit for a hiding place and escapes behind the stair railing and onto the five foot ledge that extends in front of the luxury boxes on that level. Frost steps over the rail still in quiet pursuit. Z trips over his own feet, crawls on his belly for a few inches and then jumps back up. Right when he reaches the other side of the ledge and is about to go over the rail, Frost catches him by his long, blue hair and pulls Z toward himself. The crowd audibly tenses up as they anticipate what Frost is going to do to him. Frost uses his free hand to take Z by the throat and he lifts him high in the air. With all of his raw power, Frost slams Z up against the shut window of an empty luxury box. The crowd yells in shock and the glass wobbles, but does not break.

Axis: “My God, he could kill Z. Frost is a sadistic monster.”

King: “That just shot him up my Christmas card list for this year.”

Frost rears back and slams Z into the glass again. It shakes more and Z flattens out like a bug on a windshield, his eyes bulging and his tongue hanging out. Frost lets loose of his grip and swings around behind Z for a waistlock. Frost pushes Z forward so far his nose is grazing the floor and then flings him back with a powerful German suplex that finally shatters the glass and Z disappears inside the room. Many fans can be heard shrieking in terror.

Axis: “Frost has just violently driven Z right through that pain of glass. Surviving that hellacious blow would take a miracle.”

King: “Zing, Frost is getting a new toaster from me this year.”

Edwin: “Your generosity knows no bounds.”

Frost leans back up out of the shattered window and Turner runs in with a forearm to his head. The two wrestle around in a test of strength and tumble into the luxury box. The entire crowd turns their heads trying to see what is going on as very loud crashes and booms can be heard from the small room.

Axis: “We did not want to send the referee or cameraman onto that precarious small ledge, but we have people at this moment running around the outside and to the hall where the luxury boxes open onto.”

Edwin: “One of us should go up there too.”

King: “Tag, your it.”

Edwin: “I’ll play you a game of Candyland for it.”

A shot of a long hall is shown and a cameraman’s shoes can be heard hitting the concrete floor as he runs down the hall with his camera. A referee can be seen slightly in front of the camera frame running as well. Right before they get to the last luxury box where the wrestlers have disappeared too, the room’s door explodes off of its hinges and Frost barrels out and into the wall of the narrow hall. He takes it hard on the shoulder and lies on the floor in the remnants of the door. He has small nicks and cuts all over his body from the shattered glass. A bad gash on his left forearm is clearly visible. Turner emerges from the room with only one or two nicks on his chest and legs and intensity in his eyes. He stomps down on the head of Frost and then drops to his knees with a piece of cable he has taken from the room and proceeds to choke Frost with it.

Axis: “I know that this is a hardcore submissions match, but this degenerating into one of the most ghastly contests I can ever remember witnessing.”

King: “I remember when I was the SWF champion and was tossed through a glass window, thrown through an oak door and choked with a piece of cable. (he yawns and pats his mouth) One of the duller matches I ever had.”

The referee drops down next to Frost and asks if he wants to give up. He gurgles a “never” and bucks forward, sending Randy sprawling down the hall. Frost wheezes for air and climbs to his feet. Turner gets up and charges. The two men slap and grapple like sumos out of the hall and into the main concourse area of the building. Before the camera follows, it turns quickly into the luxury box. Z is lying on the floor amidst shards of glass and wood from a broken table that was next to the window. He is oozing blood from his forehead and chest, but is moaning and moving around. Before the camera cuts away, Z rolls next to a wall where a fire axe and extinguisher can clearly be seen.

Axis: “Thank goodness, Z appears to still be conscious, if not severely injured.”

King: “One can only hope.”

Edwin: “Too bad I wasn’t around when you say the same thing happened to you. I would have bought noisemakers and balloons and hats and confetti and had a party. Pin the tail on King, anyone?”

The cameraman rushes into the main walkway, where Frost and Turner are slugging it out now more like too exhausted, but eager prizefighters in the 12th round. A security detail holds fans back and the only other thing in the circle they have cut out is the referee, a back wall and a nacho cart. Frost sidesteps a punch and slips behind Turner to grab the Cobra clutch. Turner struggles around as Frost is having a hard time to lock it in well around Randy’s huge chest and arms. The ref asks him if he wants to submit and he screams and emphatic “no.” With that Frost gives him a face first leg sweep from the clutch position. Their bodies make a wet smack on the floor.

King: “Frost tells me that that is called an Icelandic leg sweep.”

Edwin: “What, is he too good for the Russians?”

Frost switches to a rear mounted chinlock, which in reality is more of a choke. Z stumbles through the crowd that has gathered to watch holding the fire extinguisher and axe from the luxury box wall.

Axis: “Good lord, not only is Z still alive after going through that glass window, but he still has fight left in him. We are indeed witnessing a miracle, folks. He’s bloody, but he’s got his second wind and is as fresh as a daisy.”

King: “Yeah, a bloody daisy.”

Edwin: “Bloody daisy, I saw them back at the Forum in L.A. in ’81. They blew a Pinto up on stage, wonderful sight to behold.”

Frost notices Z and starts to release his hold on Turner. Z blows the fire extinguisher fluid in Frost’s general direction and a huge cloud envelopes the area. Z turns to the camera and says, “that should hold him for a second.” Z takes a couple of deep breaths and as the cloud clears away, Frost can be seen standing over his shoulder like some villain in an action film that just won’t go down. Z turns around and smacks straight dab into Frost’s chest. Z looks up and mutters “Ah, shi...” He is cut off as Frost picks him by the waist and tosses him on his back for an airplane spin. Frost spins Z around and around for a full five rotations and then flings him off with a twist. Z hurtles through the air and crashes down through the cloth awning of the nacho cart. The weak tin of the cart buckles under Z and tips over to the floor. Nacho chips and cheese spray everywhere.

King: “I remember when I was SWF champ and was tossed through two, nay three, nacho carts in one match and went on to win. Par for the course really.”

Edwin: “Ah, I can’t bear to watch.” (Edwin covers his eyes with his hands)

Axis: “I know, Edwin, it’s a gruesome beating to behold.”

Edwin: (uncovering his face) “No, it’s all of those spilt nachos. I’m so hungry after King gave away my lunch.”

Frost delivers a primal scream and thumps his chest. Turner runs in with the fire axe and clubs Frost in the back of the head with the handle. Frost falls to his knees and collapses to the floor. Turner drops the axe and slumps over the nacho cart. He grabs Z by his hair. Z’s eyes bolt open and he grabs a pot of half spilt cheese, clanks Randy in the head with it and then dumps the scalding hot cheese on his chest.

Axis: “Oh, Z has just badly burned Randy Turner with that sticky, hot cheese.”

Edwin: “Sticky, Hot Cheese opened for Bloody Daisy.”

King: “Isn’t that moronic.”

Edwin: “Don’t you mean ironic.”

King: “No.”

Turner rolls over to the floor. Z jumps up on the tipped over cart, flashes a double bird to the camera and drops an FU elbow onto Turner’s chest. Z jumps back up to his feet, looks at the cheese on his arm, runs a finger through it and then licks the finger with a look of “not bad.” Frost is wearily getting his feet, Z quickly grabs his wrist and single arm DDT’s him into the side of the nacho cart with a loud slam. Z grabs another half full pot of cheese and pours it on Frost’s back and head. He then grabs a bag of nachos and dumps them on Frost. They stick out at angles and cling to him due to the cheese.

Edwin: (singing) “Nacho, nacho man. I want to be a nacho man. Got to be a nacho, nacho man…” (Edwin trails off)

Z pops back up onto the side of the cart and drops a big leg on Turner, who was just starting to stir and wipe the cheese off of his chest. “Nelbina time!” Z shouts and he locks Turner into the hold and poses for the gathered throng around them. The ref asks Turner if he wants to submit, he groggily replies, “to what, I don’t feel anything.”

Axis: “This could be it fans. After being tossed through a window and a nacho cart, Z could make an amazing comeback through his sheer luck and will alone to outlast these colossals he has been pitted against.”

King: “And monkeys could fly out of my BUTT.”

Edwin: “Monkeys!” (he shrieks with glee and bends down to stare at King’s behind and wait for the flying monkeys)

Z kisses his barely there biceps and slaps his doughy gut while yelling “give it up, baby” and smiling from ear to ear. Frost storms up from the floor and grabs the fire axe. He wraps his hand around Z’s hair and rips him out of the hold. Frost spins Z around and shoves the tip of the axe under his nose. Frost puts his face a scant few millimeters from Z’s and snarls sadistically “enough of you, submit or die.” Z looks at Frost, then down at the axe. He stammers, “I…er…eh….” and passes out dead away. Frost picks him up and puts him in the Cobra clutch for good measure and the referee waves Frost off and declares him the winner.

Axis: “There you have it, Frost’s winning ways continue as he proves that intimidation and brute force can take down heart and determination in this not so perfect world.”

Edwin: “Does this mean we don’t get to see any flying monkeys?” (He sobs softly and then blows his nose with a loud honk into a handkerchief pulled from his pocket. He goes to stuff the dirty rag into King’s breast pocket and he slaps Edwin away.)

Frost allows the referee to raise his arm in victory, but a nearly psychotic Randy Turner immediately jumps him from behind. The two brawl uncontrollably down the concourse and out of sight with a throng of fans and security guards trailing behind as Metal fades to commercial.

Axis: “While Z might be out of it, it is not over between Frost and Turner. We’ll be back.”

April 4, 2002

SJL Metal comes back on the air, introductions already made and the first match already decided by a pinfall. The fans leap in anticipation, cheering on and on until their hopeful spirits are crushed by the opening guitar rifts of "Break Stuff". Immediately, the crowds erupt in hatred, pouring down a chorus of boos that would make even criminals run for cover. Silver and bluish pyrotechnics erupt at a moment's notice, illuminating the figure that stands at the top of the ramp, standing in cruxific position. The figure known as Stryke.

"(Axis) I guess we'll have to wait til the next match. Seemingly, Stryke has come down for some apparent reason."

"(King) He's come down to tell you what a poor job you've done. And I thoroughly agree with him."

"(Edwin) You agree with everyone who sucks up to you."

"(King) Very true.

...........

"(Funyon) Making his way down to the ring, from Sydney Australia, weighing at 205 pounds, STRYYYYYKKKKKE!!!!!!!"

Stryke is greeted with another wave of boos, one that he could care less for. The Showstopper slides in the ring, glaring at the thousands of fans while snatching the microphone away from Funyon's cold grip. The Showstopper brings the microphone up to his lips again, and pauses as the fans begin to chant.

"(Crowds) ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!"

Stryke grins, almost as if he feeds on these chants. Nevertheless, Stryke brings the mic up to his lips and begins.

"(Stryke) When I was in my homeland of Australia, there was always respect. Respect for the elderly, respect for those who were better for you, respect for the powerful, and respect for the needy. When I came to America, I found out that there was *no* respect whatsoever. The President? Ha! I see all you people rioting outside the White House everyday. That's not respect. Respect for the better? Look at me. I have beaten everyone in the league and I have not gotten one single ounce of praise from ANYONE in this league. How is that? Instead, they praise that clown, that joker, that Roadrunner type kid named Erek Taylor."

At the mention of the champion, the crowds erupt in cheers that can be heard a mile away. Soon after, a "Erek! Erek!" chant begins to rise. Stryke quickly cuts them off by ignoring them.

"(Stryke) Yeah you chant for the kid. That kid doesn't respect anyone. He makes fun of me, he pours sauce on me, he pours beer on me, and yet you all still respect him and even.... CHEER him?! What kind of world is this?!!! [crowd pops at the remembrance of Stryke getting covered with spaghetti] Well, I can take a joke. But this is too much. I STILL HAVE DAMN BEER STAINS ON MY T-SHIRT!! DO YOU PEOPLE KNOW HOW MUCH IT COSTS TO CLEAN THAT OUT?! DO YOU?! NO! SO SHUT THE F*CK UP!"

The crowds respond with another chant, this one titling "YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK!". Stryke grins yet again and raises the middle finger, showing it around for the entire Nutter Center to see.

"(Stryke) I do not suck. You all suck. I know that I can take on each and every one of you, beat you senseless, humiliate you in front of your friends and family, and then step on your pride. I know I can because I have done that before. But instead of naming all of my victims and my *future* victims, one being Erek Taylor, I have come down to this ring to tell you all how proud I am. In fact, I think the Commissioner may know more than he thinks."

Stryke looks towards the announcers' table and immediately winks towards the Commissioner. The Suicide King and Axis look at their commentating partner in confusion.

"(Axis) What is he talking about?"

"(King) I think you have a bit of explaining to do, Edwin."

"(Edwin) Uh.... Uh...... Uh....."

Before any answers are revealed, Stryke rambles on the mic again.

"(Stryke) Don't worry Commissioner. I won't reveal anything if you don't forget what we talked about. So when I read the Crimson Card tomorrow, I hope I will see what I want to see on there. Now for further information, what kinda name is Dayton, Ohio? Everyone's heard of Daytona, Florida but who the hell would wanna live in a ripoff city like Dayt-"

"(Crowds) RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"

A revolving "X" reveals itself on the giant Smarkstron, quickly signaling the entering beats of "Toxicity". A missile-like projectile tumbles down the air, exploding in a giant mass of pyrotechnics at the top of the ramp! Smoke rises from an unknown origin, concealing the curtains and shrouding the top ramp with mist and mystery. Finally, as the lights return to normal, the shadowy figure of Erek Taylor shimmers through the smoke, before finally emerging into the light.

"(Axis) And the Champ is here!"

"(King) Bah!"

"(Edwin) Crap....."

Erek Taylor, the World Title strapped around his waist, drops to a crouching pose at the top of the ramp, a microphone in his hand. The World Champion brings the microphone up to his lips, immediately pausing as the chants of "Erek! Erek!" begin to rise in volume. Finally, Taylor waits no more and begins.

"(Erek) Ripoff city? Daytona? Dayton? If I'm mistaken, Daytona and Dayton are very different cities. Definetly. You see, Daytona has an "A" in its name and Dayton doesn't. Daytona has the racetracks and Dayton has the ladies. [female fans pop] Then again, you wouldn't know because you're too busy..... [makes a hand motion to pretend smoking] .... Well, you get the idea."

"(Stryke) First of all, who the hell do you think you are to interrupt me in my great interview? HuH? Who the f*ck do you think you are?!"

"(Erek) I'll answer your questions but I won't waste my voice. Why? Well, I can say that I am....."

"(Crowds) EREK TAYLOR!!!!!!"

Taylor grins as the crowds rejoice in cheers, immediately chanting once again.

"(Erek) That's right, I'm Erek Taylor, and I know that you know that I know that you know perfectly well who I am. I'm just here to spoil your fun because let's face it, you don't know how to have fun. You think driving a Oldsmobile is fun. Well, Dayton doesn't think so! [cheap pop] We like driving Vipers, Ferraris, and Lambourghinis! It's b*tches like you who like pouring cement into other people's cars who think that's funny!"

"(Stryke) Ha! Is this what it's about? You're mad because you couldn't handle a joke?"

"(Erek) Oh I knew it was a joke. That's why I'm laughing. Ha..... ha..... ha...... So Stryke, since you love cement, maybe you'll love what I did to your locker room. Roll the footage!"

The Smarkstron lights up, picturing nothing but a wall. Wait, the camera begins zooming out, and notices that the door of Stryke's locker room has been sealed shut with cement!!

"(Erek) I hope you didn't leave any valuables in there because you'll need a jackhammer to get into that room."

"(Stryke) You B*STARD! SON OF A B*TCH!"

"(Erek) Now now, I can take a joke, but what about you? And I loved that little letter you wrote but I'm so sorry that I had no time to write you a proper one. All I wrote was, you're stupid, you suck, and I also left you a penny in your room, which is all you're worth. So Stryke, when you get into your room, *if* you get into your room, I hope you'll enjoy that nice letter I gave to you. Happy huntings......"

"Toxicity" begins to play again as Taylor disappears into the curtains, leaving an enraged Stryke to stomp around in the ring. The Showstopper quickly leans towards the ropes, pointing at Eddie Mac and speaking out some inaudible words.

"(Axis) What's he saying?"

"(Edwin) Uh, I have no idea."

"(King) By your tone, I think you do have the idea but you're just too scared to tell us."

"(Axis) Well, let's go to commercials."

Stryke rolls out of the ring in fury, immediately walking up the ramp as the crowds join together in another "Asshole! Asshole!" chant.

April 4, 2002

Axis: Ohio!!

Edwin: …Oh-high-o? I don’t get it.

SK: *sigh*

Axis: I just hope Kojack kicks T-Bone’s BUTT next.

There is an instantaneous blackout through out the entire arena with an electric sound and then a pause, only the light rhythms of the song can be heard. Then, a huge explosion fills the stage with enchanting light and the lights returns only to the stage, ramp and the ring and the rest of the arena has nothing but very dim lighting, and a thunderclap, echoes through the arena with segues into Limp Bizkit’s “My Way” blasting through the speakers and rocking the arena.

Edwin: Wooo, pretty lights!

SK: Shut up you fool, someone is coming out!

SK: It looks like your Television Title match is going to have to wait Axis.

Suddenly Cutthroat pulls the curtain away and walks toward the ring and down the ramp with his unbuttoned, orange shirt, with a white T-shirt under it, with the cool looking dragon design on it waving behind him while he walks with a bit of an attitude with his sleek silver sunglasses. Funyon announces who is coming to the ring, “Now making his way to the ring, hailing from Greenwich, Connecticut, weighing in at 244 pounds, Cutthroat!!” says Funyon at ring side. Cutthroat slows down and curves over to the barrier and slaps a few of the audience members’ hands as he makes his way down the to the ring. Cutthroat flips into the ring and does his ritual. He scales the nearest turnbuckle, and tosses his arms in the air and absorbs all of the cheers from his Cutthroatholics and then jumps down.

Edwin: Oh! I know who it is! It was the monkey, in the poll hall, with the buttered toast!

Axis: What clue did you get?

SK: Meha, close enough…

Cutthroat asks the ring manager for a microphone, and he catches one thrown up to him. His entrance music slowly dies down and the crowd’s cheers rise up a little more. The camera quickly zooms up to Cutthroat and focuses in onto his face and a little under it. Cutthroat brings the microphone to his mouth, and the crowd’s rants and cheers kick up a notch.

Edwin: Hey, it looks like he is going to talk.

SK: Nothing gets past you, does it?

Edwin: Nope, not a single thing! Tehe!

Axis: …

Cutthroat brings the microphone down and walks over to the ropes and leans down on them to admirer the thousands of Cutthroat signs. “CUTTHROATHOLIC!!” and then and arrow under it, “SLICE ME!!,” and many, many more. Cutthroat brings the microphone to his mouth once more and speaks this time and he says “Hey Dayton, Ohio…” The crowd’s cheers arise and Cutthroat continues on talking, “Unfortunately you haven’t, and won’t be seeing me perform in the Ervin J Nutter Center here tonight. But! You will be seeing other great matches without me in them! Next, you’ll be seeing Kojack verses T-Bone with Kojack’s newly won Television Title on the line. Then there is the impressive Tom Flesher putting his European Title on line against the very impressive Ced Ordonez. Good luck to all four of them.” Cutthroat says.

Axis: Flesher better not lose that title to T-Bone!

“But that’s besides the point!” Cutthroat throws in and the crowd’s rants pop up again. “Ya see the point is, the reason I’m out is cause I want to say, after next Crimson…my losing streak is going to get flushed down to hell.” An uproar starts throughout the crowd and Cutthroat brings the microphone down. The camera zooms in on Cutthroat’s head, showing his sleek and silver sunglasses, dark blond hair, and handsome face, and then zooms out. “What happened is that I found out what I have been doing wrong this whole time, and now I know enough to and how to correct that mistake this time around.”

Edwin: How does he figurer that?

Axis: Shh…

Cutthroat speaks again and says, “So this coming Saturday on Smarks Junior League Crimson, I promise every single one of you…that I will come out the winner. No matter who or what I face, no matter what the stipulation is, no matter where it is, no matter when it is, I will win!” The crowd’s cheers, yell, and “WOOOs” quickly go from very loud to as loud as a thunderclap echo and Cutthroat brings the microphone down and away from his mouth.

Edwin: Yeah, whatever

SK: Hmm…

Cutthroat finishes up by saying “All those people in the backstage area should take that as an early warning. Because I’ve reached my full potential, and then on Crimson…you will all see what I can really do.” Then there is a pause. “Every one back there should be taking me seriously! If I lose yeah I’ll look like an jack-ass, but I won’t lose…I won’t…” He ends by doing the Kirby Dance and saying “So then until next time…see ya’ later my millions of Ohio Cutthroatholics!!” With that Cutthroat throws the microphone back out into ringside as My Way plays for one last time in the Ervin J. Nutter Center, and Cutthroat jumps out of the ring and starts to make his way back up the ramp as the crowd cheers in anticipation for Cutthroat’s next match on Crimson, Saturday. Cutthroat makes it all the way up the ramp, pulls the curtain back, makes his exit from the arena, and heads back towards his locker room. Finally the cheer and yells die down and out of hearing and the camera skips to the announcers table where Axis, Edwin, and the Suicide King sits, in wait of whatever is coming up next.

Axis: Well, can Cutthroat keep his word for Crimson, or will Cutthroat losing streak have one more loss added to it?

SK: That’s what I want to know. But we won’t know until Crimson at the end of this week. I’m just looking forward to see Kojack kick T-Bone’s idiotic BUTT!

Axis: And that match and more is coming up next, so don’t go away!!

Then a scene pops up on the Smark Tron showing Cutthroat, who is still walking around in the backstage area. He suddenly runs into Randy Turner at the coffee table, and then Randy says, “What the hell was that?” Cutthroat replies by saying, “I’m going to win on Crimson, and I’m going to beat who ever I face, that clear enough for you?”

“Yeah, you say your going to win on Crimson…”

“Need I say it again to you?”

“No you don’t have to say it again, I get it…”

“Hey you know what? If you think I’m so full of shit, then why don’t you be the first one to have you ass kicked by me?”

“Whoa there Cutthroat! Is that a challenge against me?”

Cutthroat mutters the word “Yes” and then Randy gives a little nod, and then Cutthroat walks away and heads for his locker room once more.

April 4, 2002

(The camera pans around the Ervin J. Nutter Center, in Dayton, Ohio, with screaming fans waiting for the next big match.)

Axis: Welcome back to Metal, folks! I?m Axis, your hero, along with Commissioner Edwin and The Suicide King. We have just witnessed a very interesting Hardcore Submissions Match.

Edwin: That we did, Axis, and I tell ya, this night is just getting started?thanks to our partner here.

Suicide King: BWAHAHAHAHA! That?s right. I made this next match especially for our viewers expecting the ass-kicking of a lifetime. It?s a World TV Title match between new champ Kojack and the eternal JTTS, T-Bone. T-Bone is going to get his ass kicked.

Axis: Well, I really hope that you?re wrong. Our viewers would like to see an actual match. Not an ass-kicking of gigantic multitudes.

Edwin: Yeah. Why should we listen to what you have to say?

King: Because the cockiest of cocky assholes, Kojack is going to make T-Bone an example of just HOW DEEP my evil goes?

Axis: Whatever. Last Saturday, an upset for the ages occurred, as, with help from Ced Ordonez, Kojack upset ?The Fallen Angel? Shawn Brody. Tonight, we will see if his title reign lasts longer than only three days! Let?s go to Funyon for our ring introductions!

DING! DING! DING!

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, this next match is scheduled for one fall, with a 4000 word limit, and is for the Smarks Junior League World Television Championship! Introducing first, the challenger, from Sonoma, California. He weighs 275 pounds. The Steak Sauce Covered Bastard?TEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-BOOOOOONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(The lights dim, and the video of the ass-kicking that T-Bone received at the hands of Red Storm Rising plays on the SJLTron. Then, the first toll of the bells from AC/DC?s ?Hell?s Bells? plays, and the lights flash as T-Bone steps out. The crowd roars as T-Bone struts to the ring. He leaps to the ring apron and reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his bottle of A-1 Sauce. He takes a swig and tosses it to the crowd. He waits for the riff to play on the song, and he spews it out of his mouth, HHH style, and climbs into the ring, waiting for the champ to come out.)

Funyon: And his opponent, from Miami, Florida. He weighs 240 pounds. The Smarks Junior League World Television Championnnnnn?KOOOOOOOOOOOOO-JACK!

(Suddenly, the arena goes dark blue, as ?Boom? by P.O.D. blares over the speakers. Gold pyro shoots up from the stage, and the champ walks out to tremendous boos. He struts to the ring after Funyon has made his announcement. He then looks at Funyon in disbelief and takes his microphone.)

Kojack: What? YOU? Introduce ME? The TV CHAMPION out to MY RING? You foolish bastard! Have you no class? Or respect for the Champion? Let me tell you something? Do that to me again?and I?ll make you SWALLOW this microphone!

(Funyon is trembling in fear as Kojack steps towards him, so Funyon backs up until he is in the corner.)

Kojack: Sqiurmy little geek. Got anything to say?

(He holds the mike to Funyon?s mouth.)

Funyon: Well, I?

Kojack: SHUT UP! I swear, I am an inch away from Jack Bombing your ass STRAIGHT TO HELL!

(Meanwhile, T-Bone has seen enough and has rolled into the ring, and is standing behind this verbal eruption.)

Kojack: After I?m done with this Steak Sauce Covered Bastard, YOU ARE NEXT!

(T-Bone has heard enough, as well, and comes up from behind and turns Kojack around. He throws three right hands in a row as the mike is dropped. Against the ropes, T-Bone whips Kojack to the opposite ropes. He picks Kojack up by the waist, spins him around 180 degrees, and slams him to the mat with a sickening thud.)

Axis: T-Bone hits the Original Spine on the Pine! Kojack never saw it coming!

King: Spine on the Pine?

Axis: YEAH! You say that when a Hoss does the Spinebuster!

King: OK. Edwin, we need to make sure Good Ol? Axis over here doesn?t get into trouble, or else I?m gonna have to kick HIS ass, too.

Edwin: I hear ya. Hey, Axis! Enough with the JR impressions, already!

(Edwin smacks Axis in the back of the head.)

Axis: Thanks, I needed that.

(In the ring, T-Bone bounces off the ropes, stops, and struts his way towards Kojack. He stops and raises his fist, and then drops it on Kojack?s forehead. He hooks the far leg for a cover.)

ONE!

TWO!

THR?NO!

(Kojack gets the shoulder up. T-Bone picks Kojack up by the hair, but Kojack goes to the eyes to take control. T-Bone stumbles back towards the corner as Kojack follows up. He brings T-Bone?s arms and places them over the ropes, leans back, and brings his hand full force against T-Bone?s chest.)

WHOO!

(Kojack leans back and does it again?)

WHOO!

(He leans back for a third, but T-Bone ducks out and now HE starts in with the knife-edge chops.)

WHOO!

(A second one?)

WHOO!

(And a third?)

WHOO!

Axis: T-Bone is laying those in there!

(T-Bone takes Kojack and whips him in, but Kojack reverses, and T-Bone hits the corner hard. Kojack follows T-Bone to the corner and hits him with a hard clothesline. T-Bone staggers forward and Kojack stands there waiting for him. Kojack grabs T-Bone by the armpits, lifts him up, turns him around, and slams him to the mat.)

Axis: The KO! T-Bone is screwed!

(T-Bone rolls out to catch a breather, but Kojack tells the crowd, ?Up yours!? and he climbs to the top rope. T-Bone has turned towards the central entrance aisle, and looks up to the SJLTron, where he sees Kojack on the top turnbuckle. He turns to the turnbuckle, to see Kojack leap off, flattening T-Bone with a plancha. The crowd, even though they hate Kojack, expresses their feelings for that move.)

?HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!?

King: YOUR hero, Kojack, the TV Champ is just TAKING it to T-Bone out there! Go Kojack! Kick his sorry ass! BWAHAHAHAHA!

(Kojack picks T-Bone up by his hair and tosses him in. Kojack gets to the apron, but instead of climbing in, he runs to the nearest corner and runs up the turnbuckle. Kojack hears a fan say something vulgar to him, so he flips him off in return. Meanwhile, T-Bone is right next to the turnbuckle and he punches Kojack in the stomach. Kojack falls down onto the turnbuckle, crotching himself. T-Bone lifts Kojack up and turns him around so that his back is to the ring.)

Axis: What is he doing?

(T-Bone then stands with his back to Kojack and reaches back around his neck with both hands, locking them in. He then starts walking out and then jumps into the air, landing on his back, with Kojack landing on the back of his neck.)

Axis: Super Hangman?s Neckbreaker!

King: GET UP KOJACK!

Edwin: There?s a cover!

(T-Bone rolls over and hooks the far leg?)

ONE!

TWO!

THRE?NO!

(Kojack lifts his shoulder just before the count of three. T-Bone puts his hands to his face, thinking he just got cheated out of his TV Title. T-Bone picks him up and whips Kojack to the ropes, but Kojack reverses into a kick to the stomach. He then wraps T-Bone?s neck up and drops him with a DDT. Kojack quickly goes to the ankle, turns T-Bone over, and falls backwards into his combination anklelock/leglock.)

Axis: The Torque! The Torque! The end is near for the challenger!

(T-Bone gets in the pushup position, writhing in pain. T-Bone pounds the mat with his fist, trying to do SOMETHING to get rid of the pain.)

Suicide: There?s no way! T-Bone is in the middle of the ring! He can?t do anything about it! The end is coming! BWAHAHAHAHA!

(T-Bone decides to try and fight out of it. He takes his other leg and kicks Kojack in the face. Kojack just torques the leg harder. T-Bone screams and his head is down. He reaches out for the ropes, and uses his upper body to drag Kojack mere inches. He keeps going as the crowd chants T-Bone?s name.)

?T-BONE! T-BONE! T-BONE!?

(T-Bone is now an arms length away. He reaches again, and now he?s closer. He reaches again, and Kojack torques the knee again. T-Bone screams and falls to the mat. He waits for a sec as the ref asks for a tapout. T-Bone makes a final reach, and he is able to grab the bottom rope, as the ref administers the 5 count.)

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE?

(Kojack finally releases the hold, as he gets up and starts stomping on the knee of T-Bone. He stomps viciously again, and T-Bone crawls to the corner. He starts stomping a mudhole on T-Bone?s knee, but the ref pulls Kojack off. Kojack throws the ref away, and T-Bone rolls to the side, tripping Kojack up with his own legs, and Kojack falls face first to the second turnbuckle.)

Axis: T-Bone with a drop toehold on Kojack, who falls face-first to the buckle!

King: Don?t you dare mess this up! It?s my time to shine!

Edwin: GET ?EM, T-BONE! FIGHT BACK!

(T-Bone grabs himself up like Rocky in Rocky II, and he stands up, but he is badly limping. He waits for Kojack to get up, and grabs Kojack in the goozle. Kojack fights back, kicking T-Bone in the bad knee, so T-Bone releases the goozle. Kojack then bounces off the ropes and rams his shoulder into the back of T-Bone?s knee.)

Axis: There?s a clip from Kojack.

Suicide: I guess that?s what they call a Kojack moment! BWAHAHAHAHA!

(Kojack places T-Bone?s knee on the bottom rope. He springs on the bottom rope, and then leaps off while holding on to the top rope, bring down his rear onto T-Bone?s knee. He steps onto the bottom rope and bounces on it again. He then leaps off, holding on to the top rope, and bring his rear onto T-Bone?s knee.)

Suicide: The body part has been selected! That?s perfect?

(Kojack bounces on the bottom rope again, but this time, when he leaps off, T-Bone kicks Kojack?s BUTT up and over the top rope, and to the floor. T-Bone lays on the mat, grabbing at his punished knee, wondering what he can do on and off that knee.)

Axis: Obviously, T-Bone has to stay grounded. His two big aerial maneuvers are not going to work.

Suicide: Wait?before he does any of that?he has to stand up, first. T-Bone is pretty much done for!

(T-Bone uses the ropes to stand up straight, but on the outside, Kojack reaches underneath the ropes and pulls T-Bone?s leg. T-Bone falls to the mat, and Kojack pulls the leg to the corner of the apron. He lifts T-Bone?s leg and slams it down across the corner, as T-Bone screams and writhes in pain. Kojack takes the leg again, and again, he slams the back of the knee into the corner of the apron again. T-Bone writhes in more pain. Kojack plays to the crowd before bringing T-Bone?s leg to the corner post. Kojack brings the leg back, and then slams it into the corner post.)

Axis: T-Bone?s knee is probably nothing now, as Kojack has made T-Bone his little project. T-Bone is done. I don?t think the knee will hold up.

Suicide: My perfect plan is becoming a reality. All your titles are belong to the heels, SJL!

(Kojack brings the leg back a second time, but T-Bone rolls over and kicks Kojack back to the guardrail. T-Bone slides out to the floor, limping over to Kojack as he grabs him by the back of his head. He brings him over to the STEEL stairs and slams him head first into the steps. He brings his head back up and does it again. He does it again as the crowd gets the jist of the idea and starts counting along from there.)

3!

(Once again?)

4!

(And again?)

5!

(And again?)

6!

(And again?)

7!

(Again?)

8!

(Again?)

9!

(T-Bone looks to crowd, the looks at Kojack, who has a glazed look in his eyes, and then slams his head into the stairs again.)

10!

(Kojack is now crawling away from T-Bone, with blood trickling down from his forehead. T-Bone grabs Kojack?s hair and brings him back up. He brings him over to the apron and tosses him in. T-Bone rolls in right behind him, uses the ropes to get up, and then starts limping towards Kojack, who is begging T-Bone off, and is backing into a corner. Kojack drops to a knee, so T-Bone brings him into the powerbomb position. He shakes his knee, as a signal to see if it?s alright to do the move.)

Axis: It looks like T-Bone might be able to do the move?

(T-Bone grabs around Kojack?s waist and lifts him up vertically perpendicular to the mat. He takes one of his hands and goes between Kojack?s leg to lock the other hand in. He then sits out, with Kojack?s head and neck taking the brunt of the piledriver.)

Axis: Cradle Piledriver!

Edwin: T-Bone might be back in business, and somebody just might be SOL, Suicide. And YOU know what that means?

Suicide: Shut up, Edwin?

(T-Bone looks at his leg, and then looks at Kojacks.)

Axis: Um, I think T-Bone is looking para revanga (for some revenge.)

Edwin: What was that?

Axis: WHAT? Don?t think we have Mexican listeners out there?

King: Man, you need to be killed. I mean deported or something?

(T-Bone takes the leg of Kojack, and turns him over onto his stomach. He locks his legs with Kojack and leans forward, grabbing around Kojack?s face and wrenching back with a lot of torque on that neck.)

Axis: THE SSTF! That?s the submission finisher that T-Bone uses!

Edwin: SOL. Remember that.

King: Remember THIS!

(King flips Edwin off.)

(T-Bone wrenches back on that neck, and Kojack screams in pain. Kojack reaches for the ropes, but T-Bone releases the facelock and punches him in the back of the head. He releases the leglock before Kojack can reach the ropes. He pulls Kojack?s leg to the bottom rope on the opposite side and puts it on the bottom rope. He bounces on the bottom rope and then comes down on Kojack?s knee with his backside.)

Axis: T-Bone is giving Kojack a little taste of his own medicine!

(T-Bone lifts Kojack up and puts him against the ropes. He leans back and brings the back of his hand across the chest of Kojack.)

WHOO!

(T-Bone rares back and fires off another one.)

WHOO!

(T-Bone whips Kojack in, but Kojack reverses. He tries for a back body drop, but T-Bone has it scouted, and he brings Kojack back into the powerbomb position.)

Axis: That was a telegraphed maneuver from Kojack, and T-Bone is going to take advantage of another mistake from the champ!

King: Just SHUT UP, OK? He?ll come back.

(T-Bone locks the champ?s arms with his arms in the Pedigree position. T-Bone lifts Kojack up and flips him onto his back, sitting-out with the champ in a pinning predicament.)

ONE!

TWO!

THR?NO!

(Kojack gets the shoulder up.)

Axis: The Sit-Out Tiger Driver from T-Bone can?t finish off the champion!

King: That?s right! NOTHING WILL!

(T-Bone gets up, and he waits for Kojack to get up. T-Bone kicks Kojack in the stomach, and puts him in the powerbomb position again. He plays to the crowd, and this gives Kojack enough time to do a Double Leg Takedown. As T-Bone falls, Kojack takes the legs and flips through them, holding on for a pinning predicament.)

ONE!

TWO!

THREE?NO!

King: DAMN YOUS, T-BONE! DAMN YOUS TO HELL!

(Kojack looks to the top rope, and he?s going up top. He climbs to the top turnbuckle and flips off the crowd before looking to T-Bone.)

Axis: Obviously, Kojack is making a lot of friends here in Dayton.

(Kojack leaps off, and lays out, looking for a top-rope splash. T-Bone looks up and sees this, however, and rolls out of the way. T-Bone gets himself up by the ropes, and he climbs to the top rope as well.)

Axis: Both men are pulling out all the stops.

King: It just matters who hit the stop signs!

Edwin: Yeah, and Kojack just hit one!

King: Commish, I should just kick your ass, but then I won?t be able to keep this lovely commentating job, so I won?t. BWAHAHAHAHA!

(T-Bone looks off into the crowd, as the fans chant his name?)

?T-BONE! T-BONE! T-BONE! T-BONE!?

(T-Bone looks at his opponent, and he leaps off. He brings his knees and his arms into his body, before extending them out into a splash, but Kojack moves out of the way.)

King: YES! Kojack! FINISH HIM OFF!

(Kojack stands up, motioning for T-Bone to get up. T-Bone staggers to his feet, and he staggers towards Kojack. Kojack kicks him in the stomach, and brings him into the powerbomb position.)

King: THIS IS IT! THE JACK BOMB IS COMING!

(Kojack brings his arms around T-Bone?s stomach. He lifts T-Bone up, but T-Bone punches Kojack in the face, and breaks free. T-Bone stands up in front of Kojack and brings his arm under Kojack?s neck. He gets the other arm under his leg, and then brings them in close to lock the hands together.)

Edwin: FORGET THE JACK BOMB! IT?S PORTERHOUSE TIME!

(T-Bone lifts him up, and drops him on the back of his head, bridging out into a pin.)

ONE!

TWO!

THREE?NO!

(Kojack?s free hand grabs onto the ropes.)

King: THAT is why HE is the CHAMP!

(T-Bone jumps up and down, thinking that he has won the match, but the ref brings his hand down. T-Bone argues with the ref, thinking he had won the match cleanly, but the ref will have none of it. Kojack stands up and walks over to T-Bone, goes down to a knee, and takes his arm upward between T-Bone?s legs, hitting his vital spot.)

King: Ball Basher! Ref didn?t see it! BWAHAHAHAHA!

(T-Bone grabs his groin in pain. Kojack looks to the crowd and says, ?That?s it!? He brings T-Bone into the powerbomb position, readying another Jack Bomb, but T-Bone goes down to one knee and HE hits Kojack with a Ball Basher.)

Axis: THIS IS GREAT! What a match! What passion!

Suicide: I don?t think Kojack will have the little Kojacks that he wants!

(T-Bone gets up as Kojack is jumping up and down, holding his genitals, he turns around, and T-Bone kicks him in the stomach. He brings Kojack into the powerbomb position, and hooks his arms together like a Pedigree. He brings Kojack up, but then drives Kojack on his neck and shoulders, holding his arms there for a pin.)

Axis: SWEET MOTHER OF GOD! T-BONE?S TRUMP CARD! A TIGER DRIVER ?91! IT?S OVER!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

DING! DING! DING! DING!

Axis: NEW CHAMP! NEW CHAMP! NEW CHAMP! BY GAWD NEW CHAMP!

Suicide King: DAMN YOUS, T-BONE! DAMN YOUS TO HELL!

Funyon: The winner?and?NEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW?Smarks Junior League World Television Champion?The Steak Sauce Covered Bastard?TEEEE-BOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!

Axis: YES! He?s DONE IT! The Steak Sauce Covered Bastard has returned! And Suicide King is going mad!

(Suicide King jumps up and down, pounding his fists into the announce table. The ref hands T-Bone the belt, and the fans are going wild, chanting T-Bone?s name.)

'T-BONE! T-BONE! T-BONE! T-BONE! T-BONE!'

(T-Bone holds the belt up as the fans celebrate.)

Axis: What a moment! Ladies and Gentlemen, we still have plenty more to do, and it?s gonna happen TONIGHT! On Metal!

April 4, 2002

We stumble upon Mike and his cab driver as they enter a place known simply as "National Lampoon Dayton". The lights are dimly light as Mike opens his door, slamming it shut as the driver exits as well.

"(Driver) Why do you want to be here?"

"(Mike) Are you completely uncultured?"

"(Driver, muttering) Maybe I am…"

"(Mike, ignoring him) Have you not heard of the new National Lampoon movie?"

"(Driver) I probably forgot, I'm sorry."

"(Mike) Well, it's about a college guy named Van Wilder… obviously, he's gonna team with me."

"(Driver, after a laugh) His real name's not Van Wilder, you know."

"(Mike, flustered) Of course not. His real name is Ryan Reynolds."

"(Driver, looking at Mike a bit confused) You've got serious problems, you know that?"

"(Mike) Shut up and get back in the limo. I'll be out in a minute."

The driver angrily goes out to the limo as Mike walks into the building. All the lights are off, and a voice yells out, "WHO IS IT!?!"

Mike yells back to them.

"(Mike) IT'S MVS!"

Voices start to echo throughout what appears to be rafters.

"MVS!"

"It's MVS!"

"ALL CLEAR!"

All the lights flicker on as the loud beats of Jimmy Eat World's "The Middle" start to pump throughout the building, hay-filled lofts being emptied of human bodies, most dressed in underwear, as bodies begin to bump and grind on the floor. Mike stands, surveying his "posse", if you will, as we do that famous wipe…

Fader…

April 4, 2002

(The camera shows a overview shot of the packed arena. Before cutting back to the announce table.)

Axis: Welcome back to Crimson. Up next we have “Deathwish” Danny Williams taking on the monstrous Dark Reaper.

Edwin: Williams is giving up a lot of weight, I mean a lot of weight to Reaper. Williams is gonna have to dig deep into his bag of tricks, if he wants to pull off a win here tonight.

King: Williams better have brass knuckles, a chair, or a kitchen sink in that bag of tricks.

Axis: While I don’t think to highly of William's character, as a athlete and wrestler he is one of the elite. He can surely pull off a win, without resorting to cheating.

King: That ignorant statement is exactly the reason, you will never be a World Champion. Like me.

Edwin: Shut up King! The match is starting.

(The camera cuts to Funyon standing in the ring, with mic in hand.)

(Deep thuds sound out from the speakers, the thuds are evenly spaced out, the smarktron flickers to life as it shows a big man walking down a dark road, the thuds speed up as he gets closer to the camera. As you can just about make him out the thuds stop and the arena decends into darkness. the familiar voice of the Reaper stars to speak, "I'm Back", the sound of Control by Puddle of Mudd hits with it's great guitar riff and the light returns to the arena. The Reaper appears after two white pryo's are shot from the roof and hit the enterance. Reaper walks down to the ring and climbs in.)

Funyon: The following match is scheduled for one fall. Entering the ring first, tipping the scales at 300 lbs., hailing from London, England, he is The Dark Reaperrrrrr.

(The heavy grinding grooves of Dillinger Escape Plans "Calculating Infinity" blasts over the loud speakers. The smarktron simply says Deathwish in white letters and follows that with highlights of Dannys Indie and New Japan Matches. Danny comes out on to the platform. He simply looks around, and shakes his head to a chorus of boos. He walks to the ring with a focused, no nonsense look on his face. He gets in the ring and just warms up.)

Funyon: And his opponent, weighing in at 235 lbs., haling from Louisville, Kentucky, he is “Deathwish” Danny Williamsssss.

(DING! DING! DING! Reaper and Deathwish both fearlessly step up to the middle of the ring and quickly tie up. Reaper just overpowers Deathwish, and tosses him to the mat. The crowd pops. Deathwish lands on his back and quickly back rolls up to his feet. Deathwish makes the “hair pulling” jesture at Kivell. Kivell just shakes his head and ignores him. Reaper just motions for Deathwish to “come on”. Deathwish doesn’t keep him waiting and immediately locks back up with Reaper. Reaper effortlessly spins him around and throws him in a nearby corner. Deathwish seems briefly shaken by Reaper’s supreme power. Reaper lets loose a growl, and flexes at Deathwish. The crowd applauds the face taunt. An angry Deathwish steps out of the corner and calms himself. He goes for the tieup with Reaper again, but this time Deathwish rams a knee into this abs. While Reaper is bent over, Deathwish follows with two hard forearms to his jaw. Reaper is briefly stunned, and Deathwish gets the advantage with a armwrench into a wristlock.

(Deathwish smiles thinking he got the best of Reaper. However, Reaper just scoops up the smaller man in a fireman carry, breaking the wristlock. Reaper calmly walks to a corner, and sits Deathwish on the top turnbuckle. Kivell steps in, and makes them break cleanly. Reaper releases Deathwish and slowly walks backwards out of the corner. Kivell steps out of the way, and Reaper charges the seated Deathwish. Deathwish leapfrogs off the second rope over Reaper. Deathwish turns around and charges Reaper but eats a back elbow to the face. Deathwish staggers back, holding his jaw. Reaper doesn’t try to capitalize and lets Deathwish go.)

Axis: Williams is gonna have to alter his game plan here tonight. Reaper just has to much power to try to a scientific match. He may have to bust out some of his vintage high flying offense, that he was famous for in his New Japan days.

Edwin: Yeah, but Williams has bulked up quite a bit sense then, with the aid of (cough) steroids (cough).

King: Williams at his heaviest is far more athletic than you two washups. He is not as athletic as me, but really who is.

(Reaper awaits in the center of the ring, and motions for Deathwish to “come on” again. Deathwish lets out a angry scream and charges Reaper. Reaper is caught off guard, and gets struck in the jaw by a running forearm. Deathwish follows with a stiff knife edge chop to his chest. Reaper gets backed up, as Deathwish strikes him with another chop. Reaper responds with a straight right hand to Deathwish’s chin. The blow knocks Deathwish on his back. Deathwish gets back up immediately, but his feet can’t find the ground. Reaper sends the dizzy Deathwish into the ropes with an Irishwhip. Reaper dips and sends the running Deathwish in the air with a back drop.)

Axis: Williams can’t get into a brawl with someone as big and strong as Reaper.

Edwin: Well he can get into one, he just can’t win one.

King: With that loser attitude, no wonder I was able to easily defeat both of you.

(Deathwish lands hard on his back, while Reaper patiently positions himself by the ropes. Deathwish slows staggers to his feet, but before he can get upright, Reaper comes off the ropes and catches him in the back of the neck with a Destroyer. Deathwish goes to the mat face first. The crowd goes nuts as Reaper rolls Deathwish over, and covers him.)

One....

Two.......

(Deathwish kicks out, as the crowd lets out a disappointed “Ahh”. Reaper lifts up the weary Deathwish, and gives him a hard right hand to the face. Deathwish can’t feel the floor and falls onto the ropes for support. Reaper draws back, and cracks his jaw with another right. Deathwish is out of it, as he clings to the ropes to stay on his feet. Reaper gives him a right uppercut to the gut, lifting him off his feet. Deathwish bends over holding his belly and coughing. Reaper grabs Deathwish’s arm and gives him an Irish whip. The barely conscious Deathwish collapses before he can even make it across the ring. The crowd pops the unusual oversell.)

Axis: Those head blows are taking their tow on Deathwish.

Edwin: Either that, or he did a little partying before the match.

King: If your opponent is as big and dumb and slow as Reaper. You would have to party before the match to give the big slug, some sort of a chance.

(Reaper confidently walks over to the lifeless Deathwish, and pulls him up in a standing head scissors. Deathwish sags to his knees, but Reaper uses his power to pull him from the floor to the powerbomb position. The crowd gives a hudge pop expecting The End, but Deathwish holds on to Reaper’s legs for dear life. After several tries to lift him up, Reaper gives up and starts pounding Deathwish’s back with right hands. Reaper than tries to pull him up for The End again. Despite the beating Deathwish still won’t bulge. Reaper gets pissed, and releases Deathwish from the powerbomb position, in favor of a bearhug.)

Axis: Deathwish isn’t weak enough yet to execute the End. So he is gonna try a bearhug to wear down.

Edwin: A bearhug to wear him down? You mean a rest hold, to bore the audience.

King: Reaper is showing off his vast arsenal of big man moves.(cracks up and starts laughing)

(Deathwish screams as, Reaper squeezes the life out of him. Deathwish drives a few hard forearms, into Reaper’s jaw. Reaper responds by tightening his grip, and lifting Deathwish in the air. The pain is to much for Deathwish, and he is unable to fight back with forearms. Reaper takes a brief rest and lowers Deathwish’s feet back to the mat. In desperation, Deathwish draws back his hand with two fingers extended for the eye poke. Kivell is on it, and grabs Deathwish’s arm. Deathwish tries to overpower Kivell, but the beerhug has taken to much out of him. Deathwish gives up on the eye poke, and headbutts Reaper in the jaw. Reaper shakes it off, but Deathwish catches him with another headbutt, and another, and another. Reaper has enough this, he lifts Deathwish up again, but this time crushes him with the Beerhug slam. Reaper covers for the pin.)

One....

Two.....

(Deathwish kicks out. Reaper pulls the battered Deathwish up into a standing head scissors. The crowd erupts as Reaper signals its over. This time, Reaper has no trouble pulling the weary Deathwish up onto his shoulders for the End. The crowd pops and waits for Deathwish to splat. Reaper feeling confident, has second thoughts though, and begins walking towards the ropes with Deathwish on his shoulders. The crowd gives a loud ovation and rises to their feet, now on to Reapers plan.)

Edwin: What is he doing. Just finish him Reaper!

Axis: He’s gonna give him The End from the ring to the outside. If he hits this it could be over.

King: Yeah, but the lazy slug is sure taking his time, to set it up.

(Deathwish comes to, and takes a look behind to see the edge of the ring getting closer and closer. He panics and jams his thumbs in Reapers eyes. Deathwish back flips off the blinded Reaper’s shoulders and drops to his knees. Deathwish uppercuts Reaper with a low blow, dropping him to his knees. Deathwish rises up, and floors Reaper with a right hand to the chin. The crowd “boos” the dirty tatics. Kivell steps in and threatens to DQ Deathwish if he continues to fight dirty. Deathwish gives a “yeah, yeah, yeah” response and watches Reaper pull himself up with the ropes.)

Axis: Now was all that really necessary? An eye poke and a low blow, Williams should not lower himself to that.

King: Don’t listen to that loser Williams. Control your own destiny, do whatever it takes to win.

(Deathwish waits for him to get to his feet, and then blasts him with a perfectly timed standing dropkick. The impact knocks Reaper into a corner. Deathwish quickly runs into the cross corner, and comes flying out with a gymnastic tumble across the ring at Reaper. Deathwish ends the tumble with a back elbow smash to Reaper’s chest.)

Axis: Wow! I have not seen Williams do a tumbling elbow smash, since his days in Japan.

Edwin: I had no idea, Williams could do that.

(The crowd gives a small pop for the athletic offense. Deathwish follows with a hard knife edge chop. The crowd “Woos” on time. Deathwish gives Reaper two more knife edge chops, knocking the wind out of him. Deathwish hooks his arm and tries a hiptoss. No matter how hard Deathwish strains, he can’t budge the big man. Reaper spins out of the corner hooks Deathwish’s arm and hiptosses him, to a hudge pop from the crowd.)

(Deathwish lands in the center of the ring and is slow to get up. Reaper climbs the turnbuckles and perches on the top rope. The flash photography already starts to go off, as Deathwish staggers to his feet and turns around. Reaper launches off the top rope and catches Deathwish with a flying clothesline. Deathwish lies motionless on his back, as Reaper covers him.)

One....

Two......

(Deathwish kicks out. Reaper gets to his feet, and pulls Deathwish in a standing head scissors. Reaper tries to lift him up, but Deathwish struggles. Reaper just over powers him and slams him with a diving powerbomb. The crowd pops and gets on their feet, sensing its over. Reaper hooks the leg and covers. )

One...

Two.......

Th...........

(Deathwish raises his shoulder, as the crowd sighs. Reaper briefly argues with Kivell, before pulling up Deathwish and taking his anger out on him. Reaper backs Deathwish in the corner with about three brutal body punches. Deathwish is sucking air and holding his ribs as he slumps in the corner. Reaper gives him a cracking right cross and sends him into the cross corner with a Irishwhip. Deathwish smashes back first into the turnbuckle and remains there. The crowd pops as Reaper charges and spears..............the ring post right shoulder first and soars out of the ring. Deathwish dived out of the corner at the last second.)

Axis: Reaper misses the spear and goes shoulder first into the ring post.

Edwin: He made the same mistake in their triple threat match a while back, with Cutthroat.

King: Come on, you know that big lazy blimp can’t think back that far. It would require effort.

(Reaper rolls around on the floor, holding his shoulder in pain. Deathwish takes some time to recover from his beating before climbing the turnbuckle and waiting for a moment to strike. Reaper gets to his feet, and places his right arm on the ring apron for support. Deathwish sees his moment and drives a diving missile dropkick into Reaper’s right arm. Reaper grabs his limp right arm and tries to walk the pain off. Deathwish gets to his feet and quickly catches up to the injured Reaper. Deathwish wrenches his injured arm and sends Reaper running with a Irishwhip. Reaper runs bad shoulder first into a ring post and collapses on the floor in pain. Deathwish rolls back in the ring. Not fully recovered from his beating, Deathwish falls to the mat on his back, and starts sucking air.)

(The crowd “boos” as Kivell starts counting. Reaper struggles to his feet, his right arm is useless, and he has to pull himself on the apron with one arm. A disappointed Deathwish takes notice, and jumps to his feet. Reaper steps over the top rope, as Deathwish waits for him to come in. Deathwish gives him a quick kick to the gut and follows with two stiff chops across his chest, making loud thumps. Deathwish grabs Reaper’s bad arm and tries an Irishwhip. Reaper holds on and reverses, sending Deathwish in the ropes. Reaper instinctively holds out his right arm and catches the speeding Deathwish with a hard clothesline. The pain shoots through Reapers arm, and he paces around trying to walk it off.)

Axis: Big mistake by Reaper. He went for that clothesline with his bad arm.

Edwin: When your in the ring, and that adrenalin is pumping. Sometimes you don’t think before you act.

King: Bull! You should always think before you act in a wrestling match. That’s why I was a World Champion, and that’s why Williams is in control of this match.

(Deathwish makes it to his feet, but is still out of it. Reaper catches him in a Urange and goes for the suplex. Deathwish drives an elbow to Reaper’s temple, and follows with repeated elbows to his bad shoulder. Reaper lets him go, and Deathwish gives him a arm wrench and locks on a wristlock. Reaper screams as Deathwish slowly gives him a armbreaker, from the wristlock. Deathwish goes for another armbreaker, but this time spins behind Reaper and snaps the arm over his head. Deathwish than lets out a roar and slams Reaper with a hard back suplex. The ring shakes violently from the impact. The crowd pops for the high impact move on the big man.)

Axis: Williams somehow lifts the big man off his feet and delivers a ring shaking backdrop suplex.

Edwin: Our announce table is still shaking from the impact.

King: You used that same stale line during the triple threat match. What? You have Reaper’s limited brain power to. No wonder your never was a World Champion, like me.

Edwin: Stale! This comes from a guy, who reminds us of his world title reign over and over again. You sound like a wind up doll.

(The move took a lot out of Deathwish, but he doesn’t cover and instead tries a cross armbreaker on Reaper. Reaper locks his hands, to prevent Deathwish from falling back. Deathwish kicks Reapers good arm off, and is able to fall back with the hold. Reaper screams as Deathwish yanks on the injured arm and shoulder. Deathwish smirks as Reaper grunts from the intense pain in his arm. Reaper nearly taps, but has second thoughts, and begins inching his feet to the ropes. The slower pace quiets the crowd. Deathwish realizes they are getting close to the ropes and breaks the hold.)

(Deathwish holds his bad arm down flat on the mat, and starts driving knees into his shoulder. Reaper grunts with each knee drop. Deathwish locks on a kneeling armbar, but Reaper immediately gets off his back and pushes them up to the vertical position. Deathwish wisely turns the armbar into a hammerlock, to prevent the long Reaper from striking him. Reaper looks to elbow him off, but Deathwish is to short and in to good of position. Reaper has no escape and begins walking them towards the ropes, his last hope. Deathwish straightens Reaper’s arm and then jams it back into hammerlock. Reaper grunts, as Deathwish continues to release and reapply the hammerlock. The pain is enough to stop Reaper from walking them to the ropes. Deathwish than leaps on the Reaper’s back and locks on the Chickenwing Headlock. The crowd comes back to life.)

Edwin: Williams locks on the Headlock Chickenwing, we’ve seen this before.

Axis: I believe the correct name is Chickenwing Headlock.

King: Who cares, real world champions rename all their moves anyway. Maybe I should help Williams come with a name for the move, after the match in a few seconds. That lazy waste of space will give up in no time.

(Reaper screams, and spins around trying to shake Deathwish off. The pain is numbing, but Reaper finally walks backwards into the corner, with Deathwish still on his back. Reaper smashes Deathwish into the turnbuckles forcing him to release the hold. As soon as Deathwish releases the hold, Reaper smashes a back elbow into his face with his good arm. Reaper smashes him with about five more, before sending him into the cross corner with a Irish whip. Reaper follows and crushes Deathwish with a running clothesline with his good arm.)

Axis: Reaper is wisely, using his left arm to attack now. Still the left arm is not his strongest arm.

Edwin: Yeah, but his left arm is stronger than the power of some guys right and left arms combined.

King: That is a highly theoretical statement Edwin.

Edwin: A what?

(Reaper awaits in the middle of the ring, as a dazed Deathwish stumbles out of the corner at him. The crowd gives a hudge pop as Reaper grabs Deathwish by the throat with both hands. Reaper lifts him in the air for the Death Bomb, but Reaper’s right arm gives out dropping Deathwish to his feet. Reaper still keeps a choke on Deathwish with his left arm. Reaper kicks Deathwish in the gut and follows with a evenflow DDT. Deathwish’s head hits the mat so hard, he front flips over on his back. The crowd pops as Reaper covers.)

One....

Two ......

(Deathwish kicks out. Reaper pulls Deathwish up, and executes a neckbreaker. Deathwish falls to the ground holding his neck. Reaper covers.)

One ....

Two......

(Deathwish kicks out, and a frustrated Reaper has had enough. He sets up Deathwish in a position for the brainbuster DDT. The crowd goes nuts sensing the end. Reaper tries to lift Deathwish, but his right arm has no strength. After several attempts, Deathwish wakes up and hammers Reaper’s ribs with forearms. The crowd “boos” as Deathwish gets free, bounces off the ropes and nails Reaper with a running forearm. Reaper is staggered but doesn’t go down. Deathwish bounces off the ropes again and comes charging back, but Reaper floors him with a superkick. The crowd gives a hudge pop, as Reaper picks up Deathwish and sets him up for the Brainbuster DDT again. This time Reaper sets Deathwish on the opposite side, and is able to lift him up with his left arm. Reaper holds him in the air, while the camera’s flash. Reaper drops back, spiking Deathwish’s head sickly into the mat. Reaper covers the lifeless Deathwish.)

One....

Two.....

Three!

(The crowd erupts, but Kivell waves off the count and points to Deathwish’s foot on the ropes. Reaper gets up, and argues with Kivell, as the crowd “boos” the decision. Reaper kicks the bottom rope, and holds his face in disgust. He finally regains control, and pulls the dead looking Deathwish back up to his feet. Deathwish can’t even stand on his own, as Reaper locks him in a gutwrench. Reaper lets out a scream as he painfully lifts Deathwish up and slams with the Crucifix. Reaper rolls Deathwish over and covers him.)

One.....

Two......

Thre........

(Deathwish raises his arm, but it drops again. Kivell pauses and counts.)

One....

Two.....

Thre......

(Deathwish raises his arm, and keeps it up this time. Reaper just grabs his arm by the wrist and slams it back down to the mat. Kivell counts.)

One....

Two......

Th........

(Deathwish kicks out this time. Reaper shakes his head in disgust, and hooks both of Deathwish’s legs. Kivell counts.).

One....

Two.....

T...........

(Deathwish raises his arm. A frustrated Reaper pulls Deathwish up and into a standing head scissors. The crowd “pops” as Reaper signals for The End. Reaper lets out a roar and lifts Deathwish a third of the way before dropping him back down. Reaper takes several breaths, tries to ignore the increasing pain in his shoulder and attempts a second lift. He grunts and spits, but he can barely lift Deathwish off his feet this time.)

Axis: To much damage has been to that shoulder. Williams may have had to alter his game plan, but now he is making Reaper do the same.

King: His arm isn’t hurt that bad, he is just exhausted from poor conditioning.

Edwin: Williams should be dead from all the punishment he has taken. Maybe all the pills he popped before the match is just now taking effect.

(Reaper shakes his head, and starts taking deep breaths as summons up all his energy to try one final lift. The crowd encourages him with a “Reaper, Reaper, Reaper ” chant. After some stalling, Reaper again pulls Deathwish up. Shaking violently, Reaper barely pulls Deathwish to his chest and almost gets him on his shoulders. But his arm has nothing left, and Reaper gives up, letting Deathwish hang upside down from the waistlock. However, while he has Deathwish in position, he alters the move into a very sloppy looking piledriver. The crowd is disappointed but still pops. Deathwish lays motionless on the ground, but Reaper doesn’t cover. His arm is dead, and he is in great pain. He wants a sure ending to the match, and he points that he is going up top.)

Axis: Reaper isn’t gonna go for the cover. He wants to end it all with one big move. He must be in tremendous pain and desperate to attempt the frog splash.

Edwin: He has a 50/50 chance of hitting the frog splash. If he hits it there is a 100 percent chance of winning the match.

King: All quit trying to sound all intelligent Edwin. You may fool the dumbass marks but you don’t fool me.

(The crowd gets to their feet and starts applauding. Reaper slowly steps out on to the apron, and painfully climbs to the top turnbuckle. Camera’s flash, as Reaper stands up and balances himself on the top rope. Reaper leaps off, and manages a frog splash..........but he hits the mat. Deathwish rolled out of the way, while Reaper was in the air.

(Both men are down, but Deathwish pops up first. The crowd “boos” as Deathwish jumps on Reaper’s back and locks on the Chickenwing Headlock. Deathwish manages to roll him over on his back, and lock on the body scissors. With his arm already messed up, it doesn’t take long for Reaper to tap out. Kivell calls for the bell as the crowd “boos”. DING! DING! DING!

Axis: Its over. Williams made the big man tap. He formed a strategy and stuck with it, in turn forcing Reaper to completely alter his offense. No matter how much bigger and stronger Reaper was, he could do nothing with only one arm.

Edwin: Still, Reaper had this thing won, but instead of going for The End and the 1,2,3. He got over confident and went for a crowd pleasing rare move, that may have cost him this match.

King: I think you two are really over analyzing this, Williams just kicked his ass plain and simple.

(After some hesitation, Deathwish releases the hold. He calmly rolls out of the ring and walks to the back. Reaper remains in the ring holding his arm, and grunting in pain.)

April 4, 2002

Once more we stumble upon MVS, as he stands, bumping and grinding in his boxers with some beautiful women as suddenly, a guy sidles up to him. His face as instantly recognizable: He's the star of Van Wilder, Ryan Reynolds! The crowd pops as Ryan and Mike engage in conversation.

"(Ryan) Hey Mike."

"(Mike) Hey, Ryan! What's up, man?"

"(Ryan) Nothing much, just chilling… now that my movie shoot's over, I'm moving to Vegas!"

"(Mike) Cool shit, man… listen, I've got problems back in Smarks-land."

"(Ryan) What kind of problems?"

Mike's smile goes sour.

"(Mike) You don't watch our show?"

Ryan flashes him a smile.

"(Ryan) Of course. Brody, Flesher, and Melissa, eh?"

"(Mike) Yeah, that about sums it up."

"(Ryan) So how do I fall into this?"

"(Mike) Well, I've gotta face Tommy pretty soon, and I need a couple people in my corner… guy and girl, so…"

"(Female) Hey Ryan, Mike."

The female is instantly recognizable as Tara Reid, who plays the journalist covering Van Wilder in the movie… Van Wilder! The crowd roars even more as Tara, who can hear the crowd, blows a kiss and bends over, showing some cleavage before turning back to MVS and Ryan.

"(Tara) What're you up to, Mike?"

"(Mike) I need a valet and an enforcer for my European title match… so I came by here to wonder if you two were interested. I mean, with Van Siclen, Van Wilder, and a hot chick, how can you lose?"

"(Ryan and Tara) Right on!"

"(Mike) So… are you guys up for it? I need a lotta help!"

"(Ryan) Yeah, sure… (menacing face) BRING IT ON!"

"(Tara, giggling) Yeah, sure, I've got nothing better to do."

"(Mike) All right then! Off to the limo, comrades, we must strategize!"

Mike, Tara, and Ryan dash off as we do it again…

Fader…

April 4, 2002

We fade back into a shot of The Fallen Angel with The Superior One, Tom Flesher at his side and Melissa in the background. Shawn Brody holds up a mic and brings it to his lips.

“Ced Ordonez...” He stars with a smirk. “So we meet again and this time...”

He pulls back his black Clan robe, exposing the Ref shirt underneath as he looks down at it. Tilting his head back up, he continues.

“...This time things are different. You see, I am the man in the striped shirt and I am invested with the power to do whatsoever I see fit.”

Brody laughs at he passes the mic to Tom Flesher with the European title high over his shoulder.

“Last week on Crimson, I went into my match knowing I'd walk out with this belt.” He rubs the belt affectionately. “I knew that I'd be the one that would win the match and strap this piece of gold around my waist. I went in there and worked harder, worked longer and just totally outclassed Mike Van Siclen... but I made him look good while I did it. Damn, that's just one of my strong points.”

“So Ced Ordonez, I'm going to make you look good tonight, too. That's what the fans are paying for. You're not bad on the mat, so I guess I'll give up a takedown and let you shoot around with me on the ground. Some of the fans dig that, and I'm pretty good at it too. It's not my strongest suit, but then again, my mediocre is everyone else's best, so it'll be fine. Eventually I'll get bored... the fan's won't, of course, because they eat up every little thing I do, but I do get tired of it eventually, so I'll nail you with a few suplexes, a Superiority Complex and the Boilermaker. If I feel like it, I'll skip the suplexes and lock on the Superior Stretch. Maybe I'll flip a coin.”

“But Cedric... have no illusions about free will. Brody's here to call the match right down the middle, and I'm just that much better than you. Tell all the people that you see to follow me, and they will. And you should follow me, too... it's just easier not to put up a fight.”

Just Flesher hands the mic back to Brody, Z comes running and stops to catches hit breath.

“I’m... [pant] here, guys.” Z gaps for air with his hands rested on his knees. “Jiminy Willikers! I almost missed you guys!”

“...the he||?!” The Fallen Angel grabs Z by the shirt but Flesher stops him.

“Don’t kill him. It’s just Z—” Flesher gets cut off.

“That’s right! It’s me, it’s me! It’s Z! Z!! Z!!!!”

“Uhh...” Brody scans Tom and Z to see if they’re serious and then rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t want to miss our promo!”

“Our promo?” Brody questions.

“Yeah! It’s time to call out our latest victims and tell them how much we are going to destroy them!” Z turns to the camera and pulls Flesher’s arm in front of him, holding the mic. After a pathetic attempt to look serious, Z continues. “Tonight’s victim is you, Ced Ordonez! You will pay for costing The Fallen Angel his TV title and even thinking you deserve a shot at The SUPERIOR One’s title!”

“Yeah! Tonight we’re gonna make you pay! We’ll beat your brains out! We’ll massacre ya! We’ll... We’ll.... WE’LL Uhh...”

Flesher pulls the mic back. “Um. Yeah, Z. That’s what we’ll do.”

“Yeah!” Z cheers.

“Yeah!” After a smirk, Flesher continues. “Tonight, Ced, it’ll all come down to you and me for the European title because I know Shawn’s gonna be impartial because I don’t need the extra help to beat you, Ced. Oh no.”

“Just you... and me, Ced, you and me. ...But when the dust settles and all is said and done, who do you think will be holding this belt high, Cedric?” Flesher readjusts the title over his shoulder. “Who, Ced? Who?”

Flesher hands Brody the mic and he accepts, bringing it to his lips.

“Now Cedric, when the tides have changed, do you still wanna play?”

Fade...

April 4, 2002

The Smark Tron comes to life again and shows Cutthroat sitting on the sofa in the locker room watching the television, and suddenly there is a knock on his door. Cutthroat turns off the TV and opens the door to see Ben Hardy and crew. Ben mutters the word “Interview?” Cutthroat nods and steps out into the hallway. The camera crew get all set up, Ben readies himself and then the cameraman signals the start and Ben Hardy starts off saying “The word of you facing the newbie Randy Turner on Crimson this Saturday, and commissioner Edwin has ‘Okayed’ the match. Do you have any regrets about any of your actions here tonight?”

Cutthroat grabs the microphone and speaks. “I don’t have a single regret at all because I know for a fact that I can win on Crimson and my winning streak will go from there!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure, I wouldn’t have issued that match if I wasn’t!!”

“But do you think that you could keep your wins up after Saturday night?”

“Yeah…yeah to all of the rest of your questions.”

“Is there anything else you would like to say?”

“I will win on Crimson…”

Cutthroat hands the microphone back to Ben and then he walks away and heads towards the parking lot. A minute or so later Cutthroat reaches the parking area, and finds his sleek silver motorcycle, hops onto it, flips his helmet on, kicks back the kick stand, backs the bike of the parking space, pops a wheelie, and then rides off into the night, looking for some good restraint to eat dinner at…

April 4, 2002

SJL Metal is back from commercial, and before the fans at home and in the arena can settle back in from bathroom breaks and snack runs, ?Meaning of Life? by Disturbed kicks in and fills the arena. Red flashes of light flicker on and off in conjunction with the tune, as the fans stand and boo the man who?s about to walk out.

Finally, Jacob Helmsley steps out onto the stage. Dressed in his normal attire, cargos lined with stripes of dark green and white, oakley sunglasses, leather cap, and leather trenchcoat with Jacobs initials; he carries his steel pipe in hand. He begins to walk down the stage as the fans boo him constantly, him returning the hate with certain various gestures for, ?fuck you.?

?(Axis) Welcome back to the Ervin J. Nutter Center in Dayton, Ohio.?

?(King) That guy has a dumb name. Nutter.?

?(Edwin) Don?t worry, no name can be as dumb as ?Suicide King?.?

?(Axis) Yes, well, out comes Jacob Helmsley right now. The sadistic bastard who came back to the JL a short time ago to wreak his brand of havoc.?

?(Funyon) The following contest is a Singles Match, schueduled for one-fall! Making his way down to the ring first?From Calgary, Alberta, Canada and weighing in at 227 pounds. Jacob HELLLMSLEY!?

Helmsley walks up the ring steps and tosses his pipe aside, along with his hat, glasses and trenchcoat. As he discards the coat, red bands of tape are revealed on the biceps of the menacing Jacob. With that, he heads over to the corner to warm up. As he does, ?Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck? by Prong rings in the Nutter Center, causing the fans to boo in unison, even if some cheers can be heard, for a heel just as annoying, just as hated as Jacob. Multi-colored lights flash, and spotlights await Mafia onstage, and finally he walks out. Decked out in black leather pants, black shirt, taping around the forearm and hands, and trenchcoat; The Hitman soaks in the reaction with arms outstretched and palms facing up, as he walks down to the ring.

?(Funyon) And from Denver, Colorado; weighing in at 215 pounds. MMAAAFIA!?

?(King) I should take this time, to remind fans that Mafia has a new shirt available for purchase soon. Says quite plainly ?Mafia?? on the front, and ?Is Excellent?, on the back. Black base and red lettering. $19.99.?

?(Edwin) I should let it be known, that I never approved such a shirt.?

?(King) Well, you didn?t. But I did. See, when I snuck into your office, I took notice of plans for a Mafia shirt on your desk, so I took certain liberties with that.?

Mafia walks up the ring steps and throws off his trenchcoat, keeping an eye on Helmsley in the ring. He shifts in between the ropes and steps into the ring, as Funyon steps out. The Referee rings the bell, and Mafia along with Jacob, circle each other waiting for the first mistake.

*Ding ding ding *

?(King) I can see you?re still upset, Edwin. Look at it this way, either way a heel will win! Mwa ha ha?

?(Edwin) King of Stupidity is what you are.?

?(King) Why? Did you vacate your crown??

?(Axis) Enough. Let?s call the damn match. Anyway, Jacob has the height and weight advantage, but Mafia has shown bouts of strength as recently as a few weeks ago, before he decided to change up to a speedier offense. We?ll see how that all pans out.?

Helmsley and Mafia thrust forward, locking up in the Collar-Elbow, and fighting for an advantage. Mafia attempts to force Jacob back, but the size of Helmsely is too much as he shoves Mafia towards the ground. Mafia rebounds as he jumps off the mat, attempting to take Helmsleys head off with a quick Yoshihiro Tajiri-like kick. Helmsely takes a step back and dodges the kick, as he steps behind Mafia and wraps his arms around the head of Mafia, applying the Sleeper. Mafia shakes Helmsely off, and steps to the side of him. Mafia then wraps an arm around the waist of Helmsey, and places the other arm under the leg. Mafia then falls backwards still holding onto Helmsley, and he drops him onto his neck with the Sheer Drop Belly-Back Suplex. The crowd cringes at the sight of the move, as Helmsleys head bounces off the mat, and he flips over onto his stomach.

?(Axis) Mafia just destroyed Helmsley with that Belly-Back Suplex, as he nails the first big move of the match.?

?(Edwin) Good. I want to see them both take each other apart.?

Mafia hovers around over Helmsely, as he figures out his next point of attack. Mafia then crouches down and puts in a ground Hammerlock on Helmsley, pulling the arm. Helmsley gets to a knee, and Mafia floats over to apply a Face Lock. Mafia keeping Jacob grounded, as he lays horzontal on the mat, preventing Jacob from standing up. This only works for mere seconds however, as Helmsley gets up to a knee once more. Mafia tries for a knee to the midsection while the hold is still applied, but it doesn?t make contact, as Helmsley fights up to a standing position. With leverage working to his advantage, Jacob decides to use Mafia?s own move against him, as he drops back and bridges into a pin with the Northern Lights.

?(King) Helmsley with a pin!?

?one?

?(Axis) Jacob no doubt surprised Mafia with that counter, still far too early however Mafia kicked out.?

Both Mafia and Helmsley stand, and Jacob immediately rushes over to whip Mafia to the ropes. Mafia bounces off and he goes flying in back towards Helmsley. Jacob goes for a Clothesline, ducked by Mafia. Mafia bounces off the opposite side, and can?t fool Helmsley this time, as Jacob catches him in mid-air. Held perpendicular to Helmsley, Mafia struggles to get free to no avail, as Jacob falls back and releases Mafia. Mafia collides with the mat back-first, and he falls out of the ring.

?(Axis) Mafia takes a spill to the outside, as Helmsley hits the Fallaway Slam.?

Jacob climbs out after Mafia, as Mafia struggles his way up to his feet. Mafia lays with arms outstretched across the edge of the ring, and Jacob delivers a hard right hand. Mafia sells, and as he does so, Helmsley grabs him and whips him into the crowd barrier by the announcers table. Mafia?s back hits hard, and he comes staggering off. Helmsley stalks him once again, now lifting up Mafia onto his shoulders and taking a run to the ring post. Jacob attempts to toss him like a lawn dart to the post, but Mafia slides off the back of Helmsley and pushes him into the post instead. Helmsley?s head clangs off, but he doesn?t go down, as he just stands dazed. Mafia then grabs him from behind and rolls him into the ring, immediately going for a pin?and placing his feet on the ropes in the process, as the crowd boos.

?(Edwin) His feet are on the ropes!?

?one?

?Two!?

?(King) No! That was a three!?

?(Axis) No it wasn?t, Helmsley kicked out.?

?(King) If I say it was a three, then it was a three.?

Mafia runs his hands through his hair, as he bends down to lift up Helmsley. Helmsley though, pulls the Referee in with his left hand, while low blowing Mafia with his right. Mafia lets go of Helmsley, as he falls to the ground and grimaces. Jacob smirks at a job well done as the crowd boos him, and he immediately lifts up Mafia, delivering a Knifedge to the chest of Mafia, followed by a right to the face and another chop. Helmsley then whips Mafia into the corner, near the entrance ramp, as he stands in the opposite corner glaring at the crowd. As Mafia rests, Helmsley turns his attentions back towards Mafia, while charging up and getting a running start. Helmsley picks up speed in what seems like mere moments. But as soon as he thought he had Mafia, the feeling ends, as Mafia dives out of the corner and Jacob collides with the second turnbuckle. Jacob frantically searches for Mafia while holding his head, and as soon as he turns back to the corner he just met with, Mafia jumps off the apron and springs off the ropes, nailing Helmsley with a Springboard Dropkick. He goes for a pin.

?(Axis) Excellent Springboard Dropkick!?

?one?

?Two!?

?(King) Jacob gets a shoulder up!?

Mafia sits visibly frustrated on the mat, and as soon as he turns back towards Jacob Helmsley, he?s absolutely blasted with a Clothesline which seemingly knocks him out cold. Grinning maniacally, Helmsley hooks the leg and pins nonchalantly.

?(Axis) God! He just killed him!?

?(King) The master of the overhype. You?re worse than Schiavone.?

?(Axis) Who??

?one?

?Two!?

?(Edwin) Shoulder up!?

Mafia kicks out barely, and it?s Jacobs turn to get frustrated as he snaps at the Ref. The Referee simply claims Two, and Helmsley stares for a moment before glancing back towards Mafia. Helmsley moves towards his prey, and he picks up Mafia from the mat. Helmsley pushes Mafia back into the ropes, hitting him with a Back Elbow before dragging Mafia towards the corner and hooking his head with his left arm. Appearing to be going for a Tornado DDT, Helmsley snaps it off but Mafia counters and throws him off stomach first into the mat. Lining himself behind Helmsley, Mafia hooks his head from behind with the Inverted Face Lock. Mafia gives the sign, as he lets go ever so briefly, spinning around and going for The Ego Trip, otherwise known as the Eye of the Hurricane. Jacobs shakes Mafia off, by turning himself over and tossing Mafia up towards the sky. Mafia falls hard onto the mat gut first, and as he stands, Jacobs kicks him in the stomach and DDTs him into the mat with one smooth motion. Helmsley didn?t get all of the Evenflow DDT, but he got enough of it to the point of which he goes for a pin.?

?(King) The Evenflow!?

?one?

?Two!?

?THR--?

?(Axis) Mafia JUST kicks out.?

?(Edwin) No idea how either of these two are going to try and attempt to finish off this match. Mafia cannot keep Helmsley down and visa versa?

Helmsley snaps at the Ref once again, claiming the slow count. As he does, Mafia crawls up from behind and rolls up Helmsley.

?(Axis) School Boy roll up now!

?one?

?Two!?

?THR--?

?(Axis) He just kicked out!?

?(Edwin) Definitely taken by surprise. In any other situation, there wouldn?t have been anywhere near a three on that, I don?t think.?

Both Mafia and Helmsley, exhausted, stand up. Mafia goes for a wild Spinning Wheel Kick, dodged by Jacob as he dives down to the mat. Mafia pushes himself back up, and Helmsley sneaks in from behind, grabbing Mafia into the Buzzkill, a Chicken-Wing Headlock. Mafia slides out of it with a Sit-Out Jawbreaker, and Helmsley is knocked onto the ropes. Mafia closes in on Helmsley, but gets a thumb to the eye for his troubles. Helmsley immediately takes his opportunity and sets up Mafia for the Stalling Reverse Michinoku Driver, holding Mafia parallel to himself. Mafia reverses momentum and adjusts himself so that he?s standing on his feet, and he then back drops Helmsley down. Helmsley forces himself to stand, and as he does, Mafia jumps up over the back of Helmsleys head, and falls to the mat while forcing Helmsley down with his leg. Helmsley?s face collides with the mat, and Mafia pins.

?(Axis) FameAsser!?

?one?

?Two!?

?THREE!?

*Ding Ding Ding *

?(Funyon) Your winner, by pinfall. MMAAAFIA!?

?Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck? hits, and the fans cheer the match, not necessarily Mafia himself. Still though, Mafia comes away with what arguably was an upset on this night. Helmsley sits on the mat frustrated, as Mafia rolls out of the ring and walks up the ramp.

?(King) Another one for The Revolution, Mafia!?

?(Edwin) You love him so much, why don?t you marry him.?

?(King) Shutup. I'm a former SWF World Champion, damn it."

?(Axis) Both of you shut up. Mafia comes away with this one after a great series of reversals at the end of this one. Stick around for more Metal. After this.?

April 4, 2002

We fade into the Clan locker room with a shot of Tom Flesher, The Superior One, standing with the Fallen Angel, apparently ready to go out for the match. Z is checking things out in the background, curiosity overcoming. Brody grabs Flesher by the shoulder and leans in.

“What is with you and Z?”

“I’m just using him for now and he’s completely oblivious.” Flesher whispers back.

“Well is he coming out to ring with us?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“He’ll screw things up. Just tell him to stay here so he won’t screw things up...”

Crash!

Z accidentally knocks a small glass statue off a table and frantically tried to cover it up as he turns to Brody and Flesher with a big nervous grin, hiding the broken bits behind him. Brody eyes him and turns back to Flesher.

“See?” Brody starts back in.

“Okay.”

With that Flesher stands grabs his title before the two head to the door.

“Stay here, Z. Uhh... You’ll be our back up.”

“Erm... Alrighty, Tom.” Z answers, trying to put the pieces back together and fix what he broke. “I’ll stay here. Gotcha.”

“Ooookay, Z. We’re going now.”

With that, Flesher and Brody exit the room as Z frantically tries to fix the broken statue.

Fade...

April 4, 2002

SJL Metal returns from a commercial for the Gillette Mach 3 Razor featuring Erek Taylor ("WAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT! I HATE RAZOR BURN!") to pan the crowd. The camera catches signs like "Brody Looks Good In Stripes," "Gotta Ketchum All" and "T-Bone Fears Poultry" as the European Title graphic appears on the screen. The names "The Superior One" and

"Ced Ordonez" scroll in under the graphic as the crowd starts to chant "AXIS! AXIS! AXIS!" Finally, the camera zooms in on the announce table as Edwin conducts the chanting crowd like an orchestra, complete with baton.

Edwin: *muttering* A little more allegro this time....

Axis: We're back from break and ready for an exciting match featuring the exciting Ced Ordonez and the current European Champion, "The Superior One" Tom Flesher. Flesher is coming off an amazing win over Mike Van Siclen, and Ordonez is an up-and-coming rookie.

Edwin: I need more from this section over here....

Axis grabs Edwin by his suit jacket and pulls him into his seat; the chant dies down.

Edwin: What's the problem? I was just trying to help them get it right.

Axis: Ordinarily, I'd bet on Ced Ordonez to take this match, but SOMEONE.... someone wrote in an extra clause in this match contract, and Flesher's buddy, "the Fallen Angel" Shawn Brody, is going to be wearing the stripes for the third time in his short career. Flesher's gotta walk away with this one.

King: Flesher's got what it takes regardless of the officiating, and I'm sure Brody will be COMPLETELY impartial.

Edwin: I'm going to get you back for this.... you just wait.

Axis: Brody will have to keep some semblance of impartiality, however, because our esteemed commissioner is sitting right here at ringside!

Edwin: I just do the front-office stuff, Axis. I'm just going to sit here and wow the audience with my announcing expertise.

King: That's a shame. I was hoping you'd shove that stuffed panda in your gaping piehole and let me handle the announcing.

Edwin: Be careful... I can terminate your contract at....

King: Remember the wrongful termination clause....

Edwin: Oh, right.... the maiming....

Axis: Let's go to Funyon.

"Esaka?" blares through the speakers and the crowd begins to clap in rhythm. After a moment or two, Ced Ordonez emerges from the curtain and the crowd pops loudly for him. Ced jogs to the ring, high-fiving many of his cheering fans along the way before sliding into the ring, taking off his shirt and tossing it to the crowd.

Funyon: This contest is for the European Title. In the ring.... the challenger, from San Jose, California and weighing in tonight at 191 pounds, CED ORDONEZ!

The crowd cheers for the wiry challenger as the lights go down. The opening measures of "Tell All the People" play over the loudspeaker as an X of white pyro sprays out across the curtain. As Jim Morrison starts to sing, Flesher steps out, arms in the air, with the European Championship belt around his waist. Shawn Brody follows behind him, wearing his striped shirt and looking sullen. The crowd boos the pair as Flesher struts slowly to the ring with Brody behind. After they slide under the ropes, Flesher removes the belt, kisses it and holds it high in the air.

Funyon: And his opponent, from Buffalo, New York, and weighing in at 213 pounds.... the European Champion... "The Superior One" TOM FLESHER! Your referee for tonight is Shawn

Brody!

The crowd starts a chant of "ORDONEZ! ORDONEZ!" as the Fallen Angel holds the belt in the air, then signals for the bell.

DING DING DING!!!!!

Ordonez walks confidently over to Flesher and offers a handshake. Flesher grins and shakes Ordonez's hand, but as Ordonez steps back after the handshake, Flesher drops down and sweeps Ced's legs out from under him. The audience bursts into a mass of boos as Flesher grins and waves to the crowd.

Axis: Wow! Does Ordonez look steamed after that!

King: What? Flesher shook his hand! The match already started and everything Flesher does is nice and legal! Besides, a legsweep is a technical move.

Axis: Still, that doesn't make it ethical.

Edwin: I'm afraid there's not going to be much room for ethics in this match. Brody's too tight with Flesher. They're friends, they're pals, they're drinking buddies! They drink Sambuca together!

Axis: Definitely an issue there.

Edwin: Sam BOOK ah! And possibly VOD kah!

Ordonez gets back to his feet and looks very upset. Flesher grins at him and holds up his hands as if to say "No hard feelings." Ordonez responds by cracking him across the chest with a hard knife-edge chop. The crowd shouts "WHOO!" Flesher, taken by surprise, doesn't defend as Ordonez keeps chopping him hard across the chest, with a "WHOO!" from the crowd as each chop connects, until Flesher is backed into the corner. Ordonez nails him with one more chop, punctuated by a "WHOO!!!!," and then steps in to execute a snap suplex. Flesher hits the mat hard, and Ordonez drops onto him with a jumping double kneedrop.

Axis: Ordonez is definitely pissed off about Flesher's show of disrespect, tripping him after he offered that handshake. Ced's been known to get very fired up under these circumstances.

King: He's a crybaby. This is the SJL, not some two-bit amateur tournament.

Flesher gets to his feet, but Ordonez catches him off-balance and whips him to the ropes. Flesher bounces off and Ordonez catches him with an armdrag takedown, taking Flesher back to the mat and allowing Ced to throw in a crucifix armbar. Ced cranks the hold on Flesher's left arm as Tom attempts to use his leg strength to move toward the ropes. Brody discreetly kicks Ced in the back, causing the grip to loosen slightly and giving Flesher the wiggle room he needs to extend a leg and hook his foot over the ropes. Brody tells Ced to release the hold, and Ced looks very pissed.

Axis: Edwin, what do you have to say about that?

Edwin: At this point I'm not acting as commissioner, Axis. I'm just announcing, and nary the two shall meet.

Axis: Don't you think the officiating is just a bit biased?

Edwin: Nary. *hee hee* What a fun word!

King: I BELIEVE what Edwin's trying to say is that Ced is a talented wrestler. He's able to win the match on his own, and he should be wrestling so that Brody doesn't get a chance to screw

him.

Axis: Don't you think that's a little harsh?

King: If Ced's so damn good, why doesn't he just pin Flesher and get himself bumped? He's never going to be a World Champion like me.

Ced gets irritated, looking at Brody and Flesher, who stand about ten feet apart, and then squares up with Flesher. Flesher attempts a whip into the ropes, but Ordonez counters it and whips Flesher the opposite way. Flesher bounces off the ropes ready to nail Ced with a Yakuza kick, but Ced dodges, falls to the mat and executes a drop toehold, bringing Flesher down with him. Flesher attempts to get away, but Ced holds the leg and almost locks up a reverse crucifix

kneebar. Flesher counters by flipping his hips and keeping Ced's arm, locking on a triangle choke. Flesher squeezes his legs together and chokes Ced with his own arm as Ced attempts to counter it. Flesher goes flat to his back while tightening the hold. Brody looks down, takes a knee and

pauses for a moment before lethargically counting

ONE

TWO

Flesher rolls out and to the side to break the pin as Ced wriggles to get some space to breathe. Ced inches and rolls, doing his best to get into a better position, and finally is able to move around just enough to hook his boot over the bottom rope. Brody counts very slowly to Flesher

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

and finally Flesher breaks the hold. Ordonez looks faint as Flesher gets to his feet.

Edwin: Nary a bit of impartiality from Brody on those counts....

Axis: This is definitely cause for concern. Ced was given an incredibly slow count when Flesher was on his back....

King: Flesher was pinning himself. The slow count was just to warn him to get off his back.

Axis: At the level Flesher's wrestling at, he should be aware of when he's putting himself on his back. He's just as responsible for not pinning himself as he is for not allowing Ordonez to pin him!

King: Is that how you'd want to win a title? Through luck? Through lack of technique? By your opponent being careless and not through any act of your own? There's no honor in that..... oh, wait. That's how Edwin won against me when I threw him off the cage.

Edwin: Kind of like how there's no honor in bedding a woman just because her husband's hung like a newborn baby.... but I don't mind satisfying Suicide Queen.

Axis: Erm.... in any case, Ordonez is getting back to his feet.

Ordonez stands but is immediately met with a palm strike to the forehead. Flesher continues with a flurry of palm strikes, culminating in a shotei to Ced's chest that causes Ced to shuffle backwards. Flesher follows that up with a dropkick to Ced's knee that brings him to the mat. Flesher grabs Ced's left leg and pulls him to the center of the ring, where he drops an elbow into Ced's inner thigh.

Axis: Tom Flesher is starting to work Ced's legs. I'm not sure if it's in the European Champ's best interest to try to keep Ordonez on the mat, since Ced's very skilled with submissions.

King: Obviously, if Flesher takes out his legs, Ced won't be able to fight back. What, are you an idiot or something? I guess that's why I was World Champion and you never were.

Edwin: Tom's not in good position putting leglocks on Ced. Ced's so good with them that he'll be reversed in a second.

Obviously not listening to the announcers, Flesher applies a spinning toehold and attempts to follow through into a figure-four leglock. Ced is thinking on the mat, however, and catches

Flesher's head on the follow-through and snags him in a small package. Brody drops to his knees, pauses to make absolutely, positively certain that Flesher's shoulders are down, and counts

ONE

TWO

TWO AND A HALF

TWO AND THREE QUARTERS

TWO AND SEVEN EIGHTHS

KICKOUT!

The fans boo the stolen pin attempt and start a "YOU GOT PINNED!" chant as Flesher slides out of the ring to catch his breath. Instead of counting, Brody takes the opportunity to inspect Ced's shinguards.

Axis: Brody is obviously showing a clear bias here. Did you see that? Ced had him pinned for almost five full seconds!

King: Pffffft. Yeah, with a small package.

Axis: What's wrong with a small package?

King: It wasn't Ced's move! Why should Ced be given the European Title based on a simple slip and fall? I mean, I know it's just Europe, which is nothing compared to being a World Champion - which, incidentally, I was - but Tommy worked hard for that belt and Cedric shouldn't be awarded something so big on a fluke like that.

Edwin: A small package isn't a fluke, rhymes-with-Kaching. It's a sound technical maneuver.

King: Right... like you know what you're talking about.

Back in the ring, Ced is trying to line up a tope suicida, but Brody continually blocks his path and informs him that jumping onto an opponent who is outside the ring is illegal. Ced is clearly frustrated but is doing his best to remain calm under the circumstances.

Axis: I'll tell you... for Ced to win the title here will take a miracle.

King: Absolutely! FINALLY, we agree on something!

Axis: Under any other circumstances, I'd put it at about 50-50, but...

King: Wait a minute, wait a minute, WAIT A MINUTE! What circumstances are you talking about?!

Edwin: Maybe the ones where there was a fair ref and your kids didn't look like me?

King: I've had JUST ABOUT ENOUGH of you...

Axis: And it looks like Tom's had just about enough of his breather, as he's sliding back into the ring.

Flesher re-enters the ring and Brody halfheartedly admonishes him for taking a break. Flesher grins and nods, then struts to center-ring, where Ced meets him toe-to-toe. Flesher drops in for a single-leg takedown, which Ced counters by shooting his near arm under Flesher's biceps, extending the arm, controlling the wrist and dropping down into an armbar. Ced hits the mat off-balance in a seated position, however, and Flesher attempts to scramble for control. As Tom circles around behind Ced, Ced cranks the armbar, and Flesher lets out a short yelp as he feels the twinge in his shoulder. Ordonez takes the opportunity to slide off to the side and bellies out, keeping the armbar and getting into a stable position as the fans applaud the technical expertise of

the Filipino submission master.

Axis: Well Flesher's certainly getting more than he bargained for here. I don't think he's been taking Ced as seriously as he should have been. He's been counting on Brody to do his dirty work for him, but aside from a few things here and there, Brody's been remarkably impartial. He did give a fast count, but Ordonez had to be expecting that coming in. Flesher probably expected Brody to all but hit the Descent on Ced right from the start.

King: I know! Brody's not being a very good friend in this match.

Edwin: Well, even if they did gang up on him, I think Ced's got too much oomph!

Axis: *sigh* Here we go again....

Edwin: Just barely enough oomph to win this match despite the handicap, I'd say....

Ced continues cranking on the armbar as Flesher inches away, trying every technique he can think of to create space, re-rotate his arm and generally try to avoid the pain of the armbar. Flesher scoots around the mat, but can't seem to reach the ropes with either leg or with his arm. Tom

continues wriggling his arm and moving closer and closer to Ced, finally letting his arm go limp and gaining just enough leeway to face Ced. Ced continues to hold the arm, but Flesher extends himself at his face and starts to get to his feet as the crowd boos. Ordonez does his best to keep

Flesher on the mat, but Flesher creates enough space to start throwing palm blows to Ced's head until he lets Tom get to his feet. Still holding the arm, Ced follows Flesher to his feet but is met with a shotei to the forehead. Ced is finally forced to release the armbar as he staggers backward, and Flesher follows up with a dropkick to the knee.

Edwin: Lots of mat-wrestling from both guys, and just a ton of oomph!

Axis: Would you stop saying that? PLEASE! I'm begging you!

Edwin: Gotcha. No more oomph! From here on out, these guys are completely devoid of oomph!

Axis: THANK you.

Edwin: All they have is zing! Zing zing zing zing zinnnnnnngggggggggggggg!!!!!!!!!

Axis sighs disgustedly, Suicide King grunts, and Edwin continues saying "ZING!" over and over again as Flesher charges the temporarily senseless Ordonez and nails him with a running palm blow to the temple. Ordonez wobbles back into the ropes, loses his footing, and spills over the top. As Edwin tumbles over the ropes and onto the floor, Flesher grins and dusts off his hands.

King: What a fighting champion Flesher's showing himself to be! He's giving Ced all he's got, nailing him with submission after submission, shotei after shotei! Ced doesn't know WHAT'S going on, he doesn't even know what day it is now that he's on the floor!

Axis: Flesher seems to be switching game plans here. Ordonez has great stamina, and Flesher seems to be realizing that he's not going to be able to cause fatigue as easily as he would on some of the more worn-down athletes here in the SJL. Flesher's been working the submissions, but look for him to start shooting for the knockout here.

Ordonez starts to get back to his feet outside the ring, but Flesher grabs the top rope and swings into a baseball slide to Ced's back. Ced falls back to the concrete as Flesher follows his slide through, landing in a double stomp on Ced's back. Flesher then grabs Ced and yanks him to his feet, locks up into a grappling position and nails a Russian leg sweep on the concrete. Ordonez hits the floor hard and grabs his head. Flesher bounces back to his feet, relatively unharmed, and

throws Ced back into the ring as Brody looks around and shouts, "ONE!" Flesher slides back in, grins at Brody, and kneels on Ced's chest. As Flesher flexes his biceps and grins ear-to-ear for a crowd that's assuming their standard "FLESHER SUCKS COCK *clap clap clapclapclap*"

chant, Brody drops to his belly and counts

ONE

TWO

KICKOUT by Ced Ordonez! Ced is obviously still stunned from the Russian leg sweep on the floor, but he kicks out on instinct after Brody's somewhat slower count than previously and rolls to his stomach.

Axis: Ced Ordonez is clearly stunned, but he's not running on fumes. He just needs a moment to collect himself and shake off the cobwebs.

King: And wouldn't it be generous of Flesher to give it to him. Oh, wait. You're an idiot.

Tom does the Suicide King proud by immediately dragging Ced to his feet and whipping him into the corner. Without a moment's respite, the submission mark finds himself in the corner with Flesher charging at him, Doc Marten in the air and aimed squarely at his face. Ordonez does the only sensible thing - he ducks. Flesher's boot connects with the turnbuckle. While he's not injured by hitting the pad (which is probably better at absorbing shock than the challenger's face), Flesher is a bit stunned and takes just a heartbeat too long to bring his foot off the buckle and back to the mat. Starting to regain his composure, Ced is able to throw a weak dropkick to Flesher's planted leg, throwing him horribly off-balance. Just as Flesher manages to get his other foot to the mat, Ordonez executes a picture-perfect drop toehold that sends Flesher's face slamming into the turnbuckle. Flesher grabs his head, and a camera faintly picks up his scream of "AUGH! My face! My valuable face! God!!!!" His opponent takes advantage of the distraction by nailing Flesher from behind with a spear into the corner. Flesher bounces back out, only to be met with Ordonez's drop toehold going the opposite way. Flesher hits the mat. Ordonez mounts the second rope and perches on the ropes like a cat, looking alert and explosive. Flesher gets back to his feet, still holding his face, and turns around to face the corner. Ordonez springs off the turnbuckle and arches his back, slamming into Flesher with a cross bodyblock. Flesher falls to his back and Brody

hits his stomach, counting

ONE

TWO

KICKOUT by the Superior One!! Flesher throws his opponent off and rolls to his stomach, then shoots Brody a dirty look.

King: Axis, I don't think Brody remembers why he's here.

Axis: It looks to me like Brody's doing just fine. His counts have evened out since the beginning of the match, and he hasn't helped Flesher break any submissions since that very first part of the match.

King: I know.... you're concerned about it too?

Edwin: Aw, Brody just calmed down. He's not as excited anymore, and so wears off the pizazz!

Axis: Of course, it was pretty evident that there wasn't going to be a pin there...

King: He must just be saving the screwjob for the end of the match.

Edwin: Wow, did you figure that one out all by yourself? That must have taken a lot of ZING!

In the ring, Brody backs away from the action. Ced gets to his feet and sneaks around behind Flesher's back as Tom attempts to rest on one knee. Seeing Tom distracted by the fact that he just gave up a nearfall, Ced seizes the moment and nails him in the back of the head with an enzuigiri! The purohead from the Pacific coast then drags Flesher to his feet, whips him to the corner and charges in with a spear. Fluidly, Ordonez spins around and hits Flesher with an old-school snapmare before following into a somersault whiplash attack to Flesher's 18-inch neck! Flesher's head snaps back after the neckbreaker as the crowd chants "OR-DO-NEZ! OR-DO-NEZ!"

With Flesher concerned about his neck and not thinking about his ring position, Ced drags him to the middle of the ring and hits him with a roundhouse kick to the back of the head. Flesher manages to slip most of the impact by ducking his head at the last minute, but still falls to his back. Ced turns around and executes a beautiful standing moonsault, connecting with Flesher's prone body. Brody checks the shoulders and counts

ONE

TWO

THR - NO!!!!!!! Flesher bridges up, his 20-pound weight advantage finally coming into play as he is able to get his shoulders off the mat just in time to break the count!

Axis: Flesher's strong amateur background is certainly coming in handy when dealing with this mat-wrestling warrior, wouldn't you say, Edwin?

Edwin: His amateur background and a guest referee with ZING and PIZAZZ!!!!!!!

Axis: Brody’s calmed down a lot over the course of the match.

King: He’s completely ignoring Chapter 9 of the Guidebook to Being a Heel, “By Any Means Necessary.” What’s with the even counts?

Ordonez relents and lets Flesher off his back, stepping away as Flesher gets to his feet. Once Flesher stands up, however, Ced begins chopping him relentlessly. The Superior One fights back with flurries of palm thrusts, and the two seem about evenly matched as they fight in center ring. Flesher begins to gain an edge after a stiff shotei to the temple, but Ordonez regains his ground with a chop to the throat. Ordonez attempts a snap suplex, but Flesher blocks it. Flesher attempts a suplex of his own, but Ordonez blocks Flesher’s attempt. Flesher shoots in for a single-leg takedown, but Ced slips past Flesher’s grip. Tom follows through, however, by sliding all the way behind Ced and securing a rear waistlock. He arches for a German suplex, but as Ced goes over the top, he performs a backward roll and lands perfectly on his feet. Ced locks his hands and executes a picture-perfect backdrop suplex, sending Flesher flat to his back. Ordonez spins around and leaps off the mat for a jumping double knee drop, but Flesher rolls away and Ced’s knees hit the mat unprotected.

Axis: Ordonez was starting to gain an advantage, but he neglected to use a lower-risk move to keep Flesher on the mat.

Edwin: Flesher’s stamina is too good. He’s so good at using those endorphins, the wrestler’s buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ZING ZAZ!

Flesher gets to his feet and stiffly kicks Ordonez in the ribs, stunning him just long enough to land a stiff kick to the side of the neck. Ced grabs his throat as Flesher quickly whips him to the corner and follows up with a running Doc Marten to the face, nailing Ced hard and sending him crashing into a seated position in the corner. Flesher bounces to the opposite corner and charges in with a boot to the seated Ordonez’s face, then backs out and charges in a little faster. Finally, he goes to the opposite corner once more, and Shawn Brody Irish-whips him into the corner for a final boot to the face with added momentum. Ordonez gets his hands up and blocks most of the impact. Flesher turns around and drops to his knees in the center, playing to a crowd that’s booing him intensely and gathering up a strong chant of “GO TO HELL! GO TO HELL!”

Axis: Flesher is so busy pandering to the crowd that he doesn’t notice two very important developments: One, that Mike Van Siclen is making his way to ringside...

King: That can’t be good for the home team.

Axis: And two, that Ced Ordonez isn’t nearly as injured as he looked.

King: Hey Edwin, ya know I was injured when I won the World Championship? Did you ever win the World Championship?

Edwin: Nah, but I hit your wife with my Viagra driver every night.

King: You want to take this outside, panda boy?

Edwin: Only if you’ve got plenty of PIZZAZ!

MVS makes it to ringside and sets up a chair, sitting down and watching with his arms folded as Ced Ordonez sneaks up behind the posing Flesher and nails him with an enzuigiri. Flesher falls forward and lands face-down on the mat, where Ced nails him with a dropkick to the head. Ced begins stiffing Flesher over and over in the head with hard, angry kicks until Flesher finally rolls away. Ordonez looks satisfied.

Axis: Sound of Fury from Ced Ordonez, who’s been waiting this whole match to get Flesher back for that leg trip off of the initial handshake! Oh, but here comes Mike Van Siclen! This can’t be good for Flesher! Van Siclen’s so angry about losing the European Title, he may just kill Flesher while he’s barely conscious!

MVS slides under the bottom rope holding the chair, then walks up behind Ced and taps him on the shoulder. As Ced turns around, Mike throws the chair to him. Surprised, Ced catches the chair, and suddenly Van Siclen nails him with the Van Siclenator!! Ced collapses to the mat as Shawn Brody makes it a point to deliberately turn around and check on Flesher, who’s beginning to stir after Ced victimized him with the Sound of Fury. MVS lifts Ced to his feet, whips him to the ropes and catches him in a back body drop, but stalls it by grabbing Ced’s legs. After a moment of nonaction, MVS sits down into a sheer drop, spiking Ced onto his head with the Van Slaminator!

Axis: That’s why Van Siclen’s here! He’s saving his guaranteed rematch against Flesher! If Ced won this match, Mike would lose his right to a rematch!

King: Hm... I thought he turned.... but he’s still reading the Guidebook. See, it’s right there, right before the appendix of SWF World Champions. Oh, LOOK! There’s MY name! Edwin, is YOUR name there? Huh? Nah, I didn’t think so.

Brody helps Flesher to his feet as MVS leaves the ring and walks back down the aisle, mostly maintaining his composure but occasionally turning to yell “I’m gonna come get it! That strap’s mine, and that’s what I said!!!!!” The crowd starts a “THAT’S WHAT HE SAID *clap clap clapclapclap*” chant as Flesher shakes off the cobwebs. Flesher groggily lifts Ced and places him on the top rope, not even bothering to nail him with an avalanche before climbing to the top rope and hooking Ced into a vertical suplex position. Flesher lifts Ced up and falls backwards off the top rope, nailing the huge brainbuster known as the Boilermaker.

Axis: Ced had that match won! All he had to do was lock on the Cross Lightning or hit the OTD and Flesher would have been down for the count for sure!

King: Hey, the record book doesn’t say HOW you won it, it just says W or L.

Edwin: Oh my, it’s all over but the fast count.

King: I TOLD you Flesher had what it took!

Axis: It took a run-in by Mike Van Siclen and two of his power moves to take out Ced Ordonez. What a shame that he may not get another title shot for a long time.

Flesher stands up and looks down at the lifeless, shallowly breathing form of Ced Ordonez, and grins evilly. He places his right foot on Ced’s chest and assumes a biceps flex pose, looking expectantly at Brody and waiting for the count. Brody drops to his knees and raises his hand to count, but Flesher steps off, signaling “Wait a second.” Tom instead opts to drop to one knee across Ordonez’s lifeless form, then signals for Shawn to begin the count. Brody smiles and obliges, counting

ONE

TWO

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BRODY BREAKS THE PIN WITH AN UPPERCUT TO THE GROIN!!!!!

Brody nails Flesher in the groin and, when Flesher doubles over in pain, cinches the double underhooks and executes the Descent!! Flesher’s head hits the mat and he’s instantly taken out, laying flat at Ced’s head. Brody signals for the bell, spits on Flesher, and walks off without a word.

As Brody walks sullenly to the back room, the three commentators sit dumbfounded.

Axis: King... what just happened?

King: I don’t know... that was DEFINITELY not in the Guidebook.

Edwin: *quietly muttering to himself* Well zing and pizzaz....

Ced begins to move, starting to slowly roll to his stomach. He leans over the side of the mat and vomits, clearly the effect of three straight headshots - the Van Siclenator, the Van Slaminator and the Boilermaker. Flesher rolls out of the ring under the bottom rope, landing flat on his stomach with a splat. He manages to crawl over to the announce table and grab his belt before pulling himself to his feet and staggering toward the back room.

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, this match has been ruled a no-contest! Therefore, still your European Champion, “THE SUPERIOR ONE” TOM FLESHER!!!!!!!

Flesher stumbles back up the aisle, clutching the European Championship belt to his body but too punch-drunk to wrap it around his waist. He’s so out of it after the Descent that he can’t even hear the chant echoing through the crowd of “OR-DO-NEZ! OR-DO-NEZ!” Listening to the chant, Ced pulls himself to his feet using the ropes, and several SJL officials help him back to the locker room.

Axis: I... I just can’t believe this. Cut to a commercial... just go to commercial.

The screen fades out as the fans continue chanting for Ced Ordonez.

April 4, 2002

We fade back into a shot of “The Superior One” Tom Flesher stumbling down one of the many halls of the Ervin J. Nutter Arena. He favors he back of his head with one arms as he guides himself aimlessly down the hall.

Just then Z frantically runs up to him, flailing his arms!

"Tom!" Yells Z. "What in the name of Zaphod Beeplebrox HAPPPENED!?"

"A tragic slinky accident." Tom breathes, a hint of acidic sarcasm detectable thought the pain.

Z's cluelessness notwithstanding for once, Z answers in an oddly serious tone.

"I guess I shouldn't have asked." Begins Z. "I saw what Brody did to you. Fuzzy sock sucker..." Z murmurs the last part under his breath. As Z examines his shoes solemnly, Tom groans and leans back against the wall.

"Come on!" Z shouts, looking up his shoes and taking an immediate tone. "Let me help you!"

Flesher nods to Z, barely paying him any attention as Z pulls Fleshers arm over him shoulder, helping him down the hall. Muttering the words: 'We'll get ‘im. We'll get ‘im...' all the way.

Fade...

April 5, 2002

The sweet tangerine smell of Dayton, Ohio. Wait, that's Daytona, Florida! Hehehe, silly me. As the cameras come back live from the Erwin J. Nutter Center in Dayton, the fans of this town instantly leap to their feets, ensnaring the squared circle with their countless cheers. The lights begin flashing, blinking, dancing around, moving to the serenity of Metal's music. Meanwhile, the nutty fans (get it? Nutter Center? Nutty fans? *silence* What?) keep waving their view-blocking signs around, some reading stupid things like "What?" and "Dayton is SJL!!" making no sense what-so-ever. Axis, Eddie Mac, and the Suicide King are at the table, ready to give their last call of the night.

Axis: Welcome back to Metal, ladies and gentlemen, and might I say it's been a spectacular night. I'm Axis, joined here by The Suicide King and Commissioner Edwin MacPhisto-

Edwin(singing): LET'S DO THE TIME WARP AGAAAAAAIN!!!!!

Axis(pissed): EDWIN!!!! (Axis calms down as Edwin removes his earphones from his head.) This has been a spectacular night, hasn't it?

Edwin: Oh yes, definetly. By tonight, *all* titles have changed hands. We look at the TV Title, where Kojack upsetted the dominant Shawn Brody to win it. We look at the European Title, which Mike Van Siclen won off Erek Taylor, and then lost it to Tom Flesher on Crimson. And by now, everyone knows about the World Title.

King: I don't. What happened with it? Did someone pull a Scott Hall and dump it in the trash?

Edwin: Oh shut up.

Axis: Folks, we just saw an incredible European Title match where the ch-

King: Damn Aussie, shut the f*ck up! Not our fault that those fools at home didn't see it, now is it? So let them find out the f'n results themselves.

Axis: That's not very nice King. It's our du-

King: Hey! I am *the* King, and I say, shut up.

Edwin: You better do what he says....

Axis: Fine then. Anyhoo, up next is X-Force 9 taking on the unlikely team of Stryke and Flexxx.

Edwin: Well, Stryke and Flexxx have a lot of things in common now, so they should be a good combo.

King: Enough spitting!! Funyon, take it away!"

Funyon takes his trusty microphone with him as he steps into the squared circle, waiting as the opening rifts of "Bulls on Parade" begins to rock the arena. The crowds quickly drown out the music, spitting down the many boos as Flexxx steps out from the back, wielding the lethal kendo stick in his hand. Yellow streams of pyrotechnics begin to shoot out, illuminating a showcase that presents Flexxx. The Lone Star Fighter walks down the ramp, swearing off the front row fans before sliding into the ring.

Funyon: The following match is scheduled for one fall.... Introducing first, from Rochester, New York, weighing at 267 pounds, FLEXXXXXXXXXXXX!!!!!!

Once again, the crowds retaliate with boos, drowning out the music as Flexxx leans on the ropes, flipping off the birdie to the Dayton citizens. Flexxx tosses the kendo stick aside, waiting as "Break Stuff" finally begins to be heard. Just on cue, the fans erupt in deafening numbers, pouring out their hatred as they begin chanting "Asshole! Asshole!" to the coming fighter. Pyrotechnics erupt and smoke clears, revealing the Showstopper, Stryke, in crucifix position. Stryke turns around, channeling the hatred into determination as he steps down the ramp and slides into the ring.

Funyon: And his partner, from Sydney, Australia, weighing at 207 pounds, STRYYYKKKKEEEEE!!!!!

Stryke ignores the many, many insults given by the fans. The cocky fella leans on the buckles, waiting for XF9 to show up. Then, as the lights begin to dim,....

......

"It- It- It's Going Down!!"

Linkin Park and The X-ecutioners begin their hip hop bliss, the speakers playing "It's Going Down" as the lights begin to dance to the music and the Smarkstron begins to show the many clips of the many XF9ers, past and present. Smoke begins to rise as Ash Ketchum jumps through the mist, eyes locked on the Lone Star Fighter.

Funyon: And their oppoents, at a combined weight of 480 pounds, Ash Ketchum and YOUR SJL WORLD CHAMPION Erek Taylor… X-FOOOOOOOORCE-NIIIIIIIIIIIINE!!!

Ketchum steps down to the foot of the ring, grinning as the lights finally turn back on....

......

revealing Erek Taylor already in the ring.

***Ding ding ding!!!***

The Champion floors Stryke with a clothesline from behind, instantaneously causing Flexxx to look over. The Lone Star Fighter races forward, swinging a hard right but Taylor ducks under and spins around, shooting up a speedy kick that connects with Flexxx's chin! Ketchum slides in the ring and as Flexxx staggers back, the Pokemaster rolls the Lone Star Fighter up with the schoolboy!

ONE!!!

TW- but Flexxx shoots his legs forward, kicking out of the pin. The referee immediately keeps order, doing good to his job as he orders Erek Taylor and Stryke out to their respective corners while Ketchum and Flexxx take the helm. Ketchum grabs Flexxx by the hair, dragging the Porno Star up to his feet before decking him with a hard right. Ketchum moves in for another punch, swiftly bruising Flexxx's face and pummeling him to the corner. The Pokemaster rages in, quickly crouching to his knees and cannoning punch after punch into the midsection of The Lone Star Fighter.

Axis: Ash Ketchum taking it to Flexxx early for almost hitting his pregnant wife.

King: What poor responsibility. First, he knocks up that girl, then he brings her down and allows her to be in harm's way. Foolish.

Edwin: Geez King, loosen up.

Flexxx withers around in pain, eventually sucking it up and shoving Ash Ketchum back in retaliation. Flexxx lunges forward, connecting with a hard right. Flexxx drills another right across Ketchum's chin before grabbing the Pokemonster by the wrist and whipping him to the ropes. Ketchum rebounds and Flexxx immediately takes notice, bending down and flipping Ketchum over into a back body drop. The Lone Star Figher races to the ropes before dropping an elbow into Ketchum's gut.

Axis: Flexxx with a nice counter and now on the offensive.

Edwin: LET'S GO KETCHUM, LET'S GO!

King: What the f*ck? That's something cheerleaders say.

Flexxx grabs Ketchum by the hair, dragging the XF9er up to his feet and throwing him head first into the turnbuckle. Flexxx shoots a punch in, bringing it across Ketchum's face, staggering the Pokemaster over to Stryke, who quickly reacts with a forearm that floors Ketchum to the mat. Flexxx walks over, tagging in Stryke while holding on to Ketchum's arms, giving Stryke a free shot before he goes out. Stryke takes advantage of this clearly, drilling a knee up into Ketchum's midsection, staggering the Pokemonster to his knees. Stryke, head filled with "Asshole!" chants, angrily shoves Ketchum to the ropes before delivering a clothesline on the rebound. Ketchum falls helpless to Stryke's oncoming assault, which brings a boot into Ketchum's back with a smack.

Axis: Oh my god, that was sickening!

Edwin: Yeah, but it's okay because it's Stryke. Right?

King: Damn right it is. Stryke is a future World Champ there, and whatever he does is alright with me and should be with the fans.

Axis: You've taken a liking with Stryke recently, King.

King: Well somebody's gotta give him respect…

Ketchum shouts out in pain as Stryke shoves the Pokemaster down before crawling over for the cover.

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THR- and Ketchum shoots a shoulder up. A very irate Stryke grabs Ketchum by the hair, dragging the Undercard King to his feet before tossing him over to the XF9 corner. Stryke drops to a crouching stance, making a notion to Taylor as if to say "You're mine". The fans immediately join in, erupting in cheers and chanting "Erek! Erek!", encouraging the High Flying Prince to accept the challenge. Taylor grins and reaches in, patting Ketchum on the back! The Champion slingshots over the top rope and immediately lunges forward, beginning to exchange right hands with Stryke! The fans, pumped up with every punch, begin to cheer and boo, depending on who looks to be winning the exchange.

Axis: Erek Taylor and Stryke duking it out. We've got exact opposites. Taylor, being the goofball and Stryke, being the guy who's too serious.

Edwin: Well Taylor isn't going to win by being a goof!

Taylor catches a punch in the air and swiftly lays a chop across Stryke's chest, staggering the Showstopper back. Taylor lays another chop, the crowds responding with a long and loud "OOOOH!". The High Flying Prince takes it to the air, jumping high up before delivering a dropkick to Stryke's chest, staggering the Showstopper back to the ropes. Rising to his feet, Taylor looks to complete the combo but is immediately shocked as Stryke races forward and knocks the champion to the mat with a clothesline! Stryke holds his chest in pain as he bounces off the ropes before drilling an elbow into the back of Erek Taylor.

Axis: I don't think Erek Taylor expected Stryke to come back so quickly.

King: Well that's just another reason why Taylor shouldn't be champ. He doesn't expect the unexpected.

Edwin: Oh puh-leeze. When you were Champ, you were given nutshots every night! And that was expected too!

King: Shush! I will not be spoken to like that!

Stryke brings Taylor to his feet before spinning him around and returning the favor by laying a hard chop across the High Flying Prince's chest.

Crowds: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

Stryke moves in for another assault but Taylor quickly retaliates, lunging his head forward and colliding it with Stryke's forehead. The headbutt knocks both competitors back a bit but Taylor sucks it up first and dashes in, leaping into the air and laying across Stryke's forehead a diving forearm! Stryke gets knocked towards the ropes and as Taylor squares up, Ketchum pulls the ropes down.

SMACK!!

The superkick sends Stryke staggering back to the bent ropes. With no support there, Stryke trips over the pulled down ropes and falls to the ground outside. The referee immediately rushes in to see what's going on but Ketchum has already released the hold, proving himself innocent in the official's eyes. Taylor races the other way, but just as he's about to bounce off the ropes, Flexxx pulls those ropes down, giving Taylor a dose of Ketchum's medicine as the High Flying Prince stumbles out of the ring!

Axis: Both Erek Taylor and Stryke tripped over the ropes and fell out!

King: Oh you gotta be kidding me.

Edwin: Oh but he's not.

Flexxx drops from the apron, immediately going to work on the downed Taylor, laying across boot after boot to Taylor's body. Helpless to the assault, Taylor begins crawling away but the wind in him is still knocked out, decreasing his speed greatly. Ketchum goes for the rescue, racing around the ring and from behind, delivers a clothesline that knocks Flexxx down on the mat. Taylor slowly rises to his feet, catching his breath as he walks around the ring, towards the Showstopper Stryke. Stryke begins rising, not noticing that Erek Taylor just broke off in a run, hopping on the barricade and running on the thin rail towards him. It proves too late as Taylor leaps into the air, crashing down on Stryke with a cross body block.

Axis: And Taylor goes high flying! Great run on the barricade!

Edwin: Proving good to his namesake.

King: I beg to differ. I could have jumped and leaped higher.

Edwin: Well then why don't you prove it?

King: Because I'm in a tuxedo, you moron.

Edwin: What? That 99-Cents Store quality tuxedo?

The referee restores order, ordering Flexxx and Ketchum back to their corners and Taylor and Stryke back in the ring. Taylor rolls Stryke back into the ring. Hopping on the apron, the High Flying Prince tightens his grip on the top rope before slingshotting into the ring, quickly shooting both feet forward and delivering a dropkick that knocks Stryke to the ground. The High Flying Prince flips back up to his feet, immediately pushing the rising Stryke over to the buckle before raining down hard rights and lefts on the Australian Showstopper. Taylor grabs Stryke by the wrist and whips him to the opposite corner, but Stryke slams on the brakes and counters, sending Taylor racing there instead. Stryke quickly dashes in, arms stretched out and hoping for a clothesline. The Champion anticipates the manuever and quickly runs up the buckles, backflipping over Stryke and as Taylor begins falling down, delivers a dropkick to the back of Stryke's head! The impact sends Stryke crashing into the buckle before staggering backwards, allowing Taylor to reach over and roll Stryke into a schoolboy.

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THRE- NOO! Stryke kicks out at the last second.

Axis: Erek Taylor with that acrobatic manuever!

King: Pfft, I've done better.

Edwin: I would very much like to ask when but then I know that you would just respond with another lame remark.

King: Lame? Not as lame as your pandas, Edwin.

Edwin: YOU LEAVE MY PANDAS ALONE!

Taylor rises to his feet, going back to the XF9 corner and tags in Ash Ketchum, who energetically enters the ring and goes straight to Stryke, delivering a kick across Stryke's body before bringing the Showstopper back up to his feet. Ketchum grabs Stryke by the wrist and whips him to the ropes, immediately following up with an arm drag. Ketchum holds on and slips his arm around Stryke's neck, quickly squeezing it tight and locking in the Sleeper Hold. The Undercard King begins pulling as hard as he can, trying to choke the life out of Stryke, who desperately wiggles his arm around, trying to break free. Flexxx shows encouragement for his partner, hopping on the ropes and immediately clapping his hands together, hoping that Stryke won't black out from the pain.

Axis: Sleeper hold applied and you can see Stryke trying to faint.

King: Oh hell no, no way is he going to black out on me.

Edwin: What did Stryke do to get your respect?

King: He insulted you.

The referee urges Stryke to give up, but the Showstopper never gives up. Managing to crunch his fist together, Stryke begins shooting unaimed elbows to the back, hoping that at least one of them hits Ketchum. His hopes are answered as Ketchum feels the pain burning in his stomach. The Pokemaster loosens his grip on the hold and that's all Stryke needs! Stryke breaks free of the grip, driving more elbows into Ketchum's midsection until both are parted. Stryke immediately retaliates, pummeling Ketchum back with a hard right. Stryke moves in, delivering another punch, a third, a fourth, a fifth before following up with a whip to the ropes. Ketchum comes racing back at full speed but Stryke swiftly steps to the side, sticking out his right leg and tripping Ketchum down to the ground. Holding his head with razzle dazzle, Stryke walks over to his corner and tags in Flexxx.

Axis: The Lone Star Fighter, now tagged in. These two have a score to settle and let's see them do it here tonight!

King: NO! Bring back Stryke and Taylor!!

Edwin: It's a tag match, hence, the partners. It's not always about Stryke.

King: Just like it's not always about Taylor.

Edwin: Yeppers. It's all about the pandas, King.

King: Enough with the pandas, motherf*cker. Watch the damn match and shut up.

ELM: Hola!!!!

King: NOT YOU AGAIN!!!!

Grabbing Ketchum in a way to allow Flexxx a cheap shot at Ash, Stryke stands there as Flexxx draws his arm back, slamming a closed fist into Ash's ribs before the Aussie leaves the ring. Now grabbing Ash, Flexxx quickly grabs Ash around the head, and falling sharply backwards, drops Ash onto his head into a spiked DDT called the STD! Ash's head bounces off the canvas upon impact, but Flexxx flips him over, hooking the leg of Ash for a pin-fall attempt as SJL referee Brian Hebner (Earl's nephew) makes the count…

One…

Two… Ash kicks out before the hand comes down a third time! Flexxx, disappointed with the count, pleads his case to the ref as Ash slowly stirs trying to get up. He begins to crawl toward Erek Taylor, but Flexxx catches him in the act, and grabbing his left foot, Flexxx pulls Ash back toward him, lifting the ankle up and twisting it into a painful ANKLE LOCK, wrestling's most OVERUSED move!

Axis: It's the-

Edwin: ANKLE LOCK OF DOOM!!!!! I'm sure King enjoys this…

King: I do, Edwin.

Edwin: Yeah… except it's weak.

King: WEAK?

As Flexxx applies the dangerous lock on Ash Ketchum, Ketchum cries in pain, desperately trying to pull himself away, hands grasping the canvas as he tries to pull away, but suddenly, he opts out of escaping and pushes himself back toward Flexxx. What seems stupid makes sense a second later as Ash begins to push himself off his feet, Flexxx forced to follow suit and he keeps trying to twist the ankle. Ash grits his teeth in pain, but his will perseveres, allowing him to get onto one foot. Then, in one quick move, he hops off the foot, landing facing Flexxx, and leaping off that foot, flips back, drills Flexxx under the chin with the toes of his boot, flipping as Flexxx releases the leg and falls back, landing on his feet as he finishes off the frontflip enziguri! Flexxx sits right back up, taking the punishment as he gets up, bent over and grabbing his jaw, but suddenly, Ash grabs Flexxx around the head, lifting Flexxx up and dropping back, nailing Flexxx with an inverted DDT! Flexxx drops onto the mat cold, but Ash rolls him onto his back, covering him for a quick pinning attempt!

One…

Two…

TH-NO!!! FLEXXX KICKS OUT! Unsuccessful in his first attempt, Ash gets up, leaning back, and runs back to the nearest ropes, bouncing off them and flying at Flexxx, doing a front somersault that rolls him up to Flexxx's body.

Axis: This may be it! We may see-

Edwin: THE ROLLING FIVE-STAR FROG SPLASH!!! WOOOOO!!!

King: Shut up, Nature Boy.

Rolling onto his feet, Ash springs into action, leaping into the air as he coils and uncoils his limbs, crashing on top of Flexxx's body with a rolling five-star frog splash! Ash bounces off Flexxx, landing and rolling onto his back and eventually onto his feet as he staggers up, staggering toward his corner.

Edwin: WOOOOOOO!!!

ELM: WOOOOO!!!

King: God… not BOTH of them…

Meanwhile, back in the ring, Ash slaps the hand of Erek Taylor, tagging the World Champion in as Ash exits the ring, standing on the apron as he tries to catch a breather.

Edwin: WOOOOO!!!

Axis: Edwin… that was just a tag-

King: STOP THAT, PEON!!!! FEAR MY IRON RULE OVER THIS FEDERATION!!!!

Edwin: Um… I'm Commissioner…

King: BUT I'M THE F*CKIN'SUICIDE KING!!! AND DON'T YOU FORGET!!!

Edwin: OK… just don't spaz. (He pulls a small plastic container out of his pocket.) Tic-Tac?

Axis: No thanks for now, Edwin.

As Erek hops in, he bends forward as if for a spear, Flexxx slowly getting to his feet, grabbing his ribs and coughing in pain. Just then, as Flexxx spins around, Erek hits him…. weakly, with a spear… a weak spear known as the Stomach Tackle. The move knocks Flexxx off balance sending him back to the ropes, which he gently bounces off of. Erek quickly drops to the mat, laying there as Flexxx staggers toward him, but suddenly, just as Flexxx is about to bump into Erek, Taylor clutches him around the legs with his own, tripping up Flexxx and sending him face first to the mat with a scissors sweep!

King: No… I don't want one…

Edwin: …Are you sure?

King: YES I'M SURE!!! NOW GO AWAY!!!!

Edwin: OK… hey, ELM, you up for one?

ELM: Si, senõr!

However, Erek actually begins to get up, holding onto the leg. Placing his leg between Flexxx's, Erek wraps Flexxx's legs around his into a sharpshooter, but he leans back. Grabbing Flexxx around the head in a sleeper hold, Erek locks in the devastating Execution!

Edwin: EXECUTION FROM TAYLOR!!! WOOOOOO-

King: Ed-win…

Edwin: Yeeeeeeeeees?

King: Shut up.

As Flexxx screams in pain, Stryke attempts to step through the ropes. The ref blocks his path, distracting him from his duties. Stryke argues with the ref, but as he does, Flexxx wildly taps out of the move, signaling that he gives up and XF9 wins!

Axis: He tapping! By God, this match is over!!!!

As Flexxx simply stops tapping, Stryke shoves Brian Hebner aside, throwing him into the turnbuckle as he charges at Erek. Leaping into the air, Stryke falls toward the mat, extending an elbow downwards as he slams on top Erek Taylor with a HUGE elbow to Erek's chest! The champ releases the hold and, like Flexxx, collapses to the mat , both lying motionless as Stryke heads back to his corner.

Axis: God dammit!!! X Force Nine got screwed by Stryke!

King: That's my boy!

Meanwhile, regaining his senses, Brian Hebner begins the double count-out, both men lying motionless…

One… the crowd begins to clap as Ash and Stryke strike the fans up, trying to gain support for their partners to get up.

Two… Erek rolls onto his chest as Flexxx slowly crawls toward the corner.

Three… Erek and Flexxx both slowly begin to crawl toward their corners, Erek moving a bit faster than Flexxx, but Flexx closer to his corner.

Four… Flexx and Erek reach the halfway point of their journeys as the clapping gets louder…

Five… The two combatants are so close… yet so far away… they're almost there!

Six… Ash and Stryke elan on the ropes as their partners reach up for the tag…

Seven… Both Flexxx and Erek tag their partners in, and both climb through the ropes, ready to do battle!

Axis: Here they go!

Edwin: ALL RIGHT!!! PANDARIFIC ACTION!!!

King: Stryke's gonna KILL Ash!!!

As the two charge at each other, the crowd cheering loudly, Stryke extends his arm out, nearly silencing the crowd with a hard clothesline to Ash, but the crowd cheers again as Ash pops up, immediately hammering away with right handed blows to Stryke's face. Stryke is driven farther and farther back to the ropes. Suddenly, Ash draws his arm back and thrusts his right palm forward, right into Stryke's chest with a palm strike. The blow stops the Aussie temporarily, but Ash is far from finished, clenching his hand into a fist and driving it up under Stryke's chin, executing a rising uppercut that knocks the lighter Stryke to the ropes. Ketchum then grabs Stryke's arm, and with a hard tug, whips the Aussie to the ropes. As Stryke bounces off them and flies back at Ash, he grabs Stryke, grabbing him across his body and lifting him into the air, slamming Stryke down with a sharp Rock Bottom called the Poke Rap! Stryke hits the mat hard and remains down, but Ash quickly covers him, the ref dropping to the mat to make the apparent three count…

One…

Two…

THREE-NO!!! STRYKE KICKS OUT!!! Ash is flung off Stryke, but quickly, both men begin to get up, now running on pure adrenaline. The sold-out crowd in Dayton cheers on Ash, but as they get to their feet, Stryke spins one rotation clockwise, extending his arm out and knocking Ash down with a weakened discus lariat, Ash dropping to the mat, but soon after sitting up, dazed.

Axis: Ooooh! Vicious counter from Stryke!

King: Don't over do it, JR…

Axis: Shut your damn mouth, King. I'm sick of you.

King: Make me. Oh… I forgot… YOU CAN'T.

As Ketchum recovers from Stryke's last move, Stryke leaps into the air, thrusting his legs out into Ash's face with a dropkick that sends Ash flying back into the nearest turnbuckle, where he rests. But before Stryke can make a move, Erek Taylor leaps over the top rope, runs past referee Brian Hebner, and sprints at Stryke, whipping his arm out into a clothesline Stryke ducks. Erek bounces off the ropes, headed for Stryke again, but he can't do a damn thing as Stryke grabs Erek around the head and running, leaps into the air bulldogging Erek into the canvas with, well, a bulldog! Duh! Stryke remains upright as he allows Erek Taylor to get to his feet, hopping to his feet as well.

King: I think this is it!!! We may see Stryke hit his finisher!!!

Edwin: Nope. Mr. Fuzzums disagrees with you.

King: Mr. Fuzzums can kiss my a**. This is MY show…

Just as Erek recovers from the bulldog, Stryke drops to his knees, forcing Erek to trip over him as he grabs him, throwing him into a fireman's carry, but Stryke stands up. Now on his feet, he prepares to whip Erek into a diamond cutter and finish the Overdrive and the match. But as Stryke releases the leg of Erek, the Champ drops behind Stryke, facing back to back and catching him diamond cutter-style, and dropping onto his BUTT, drops Stryke onto the mat into a nerve-racking neckbreaker!!!! The Showstopper goes down for the count, but Erek quickly sits up, just in time to see Flexxx enter through the ropes.

Axis: Fame and Fury!!! Erek hits his finisher, and what a truly vicious move it is!

King: NO!!! Come on Flexxx!!! Help your buddy Stryke up to finish off the job!

Edwin: You know… you're…

Axis: Going crazy?

Edwin: Don't mind if I do! WOOOOOOO!!!!

As Erek attempts to cover Stryke for a pin, Flexxx kicks him sharply in the ribs, throwing him to the side and preventing the pin while Ash remains in the corner. Erek grabs his ribs, trying slowly to get onto his feet, and does so, but in a hunched over position. Seizing the opportunity, Flexxx grabs Erek around the head and hooks his leg, floating into a beautiful Olympic Slam, now preparing to lift up Erek and execute the Golden Gun! Releasing the leg of Taylor, the Flunkmasta drops onto his back, dropping the World Champ onto his neck with a diamond cutter that sends shivers down the spines of the fans… the Golden Gun!

King(ecstatic): GOLDEN GUN!!! By the way, if XF9 loses… you guys have to wear dresses on my show, SJL Crimson!

Edwin: And if XF9 wins… we all get ICE CREAM!!!

Axis: Edwin, who told you that?

Edwin: The ice cream man?

King: Let me tell you something… I AM THE GREATEST THING TO EVER COME OUT OF DAYTON!!! I AM THIS DAMN TOWN!!! I OWN THIS DAMN TOWN!!! I OWN THIS PIECE OF SH*T TOWN!!! IN DAYTON, I AM THE F*CKIN' ICE CREAM MAN!!!

Edwin: No… you're The Suicide King… jobber to the stars!

Flexxx, still the legal man, sits up after the move, and getting to his feet, puts his hands up like DDP…. BANG! Flexxx executes DDP's signature gesture, as he always does after his finisher.

Edwin: He should've gone for the pin…

King: Says who?

Edwin: My panda senses.

King: STOP THAT!!!

Axis: Why is Flexxx stalling? He could've won this match already!

At that moment, tired and weak and hungry for something to eat, Ash pushes himself, grabbing the ropes and using them as leverage to push himself to the top rope as Flexxx stands above Erek, taunting him for interfering, not knowing Ash has done so. Ketchum then turns his back to Flexxx. As Flexxx sighs and turns his head up and looks toward Ash, spotting him on the ropes, Ash leaps off, twisting into a Phoenix Splash. As he flips, he positions himself so his head faces Flexxx, who is frozen in place, then continues the flip. When he gets near to the Flunkmasta, he quickly uses his right arm to grab Flexxx's head, falling back as he drives Flexxx forward into an amazing spiked DDT! Flexxx's head smashes into canvas, and as Ash releases Flexxx, he falls over onto his back. Exhausted and ready to end it, Ash drapes an arm over Flexxx as he covers his, the ref dropping to the mat to make the count as the Spanish announcers, El Luchador Magnifico and some other guy next to him, count along…

Uno (One)…

Dos (Two)…

TRES(THREE)!!!!

The bell rings as Ash rolls onto his back and Misty excitedly jumps up and down while her man slowly tries to get up, breathing heavily and sweating profusely while the Dayton crowd marks out for him. Funyon, outside the ring, brings the mic to his lips as the crowd explodes in cheer.

Funyon: The winners of this match… X FOOOOOOOORCE NIIIIIIINE!!!!

Edwin: WHOOP-DE-DOOOOO!!! Ketchum hits the jackpot!

Axis: An amazing show put on by all four men.

King: Grrrrr… where was Stryke when you needed him to win?

Meanwhile, the crowd pops as the ref raises the hand of Ash, helping Erek up and lifting his hand as well, but the crowd boos as Jake Helmsley sprints down the ramp, sliding into the ring with steel chair in hand, and getting up, he lifts the chair up…

CRACK!! The chair slams down on Ash Ketchum's head, dropping him to the mat like a dead weight. Jake then turns to hit Erek, but Taylor punches Jake, stopping him from wielding his weapon against the Champ. However, as Erek turns around… WHAM! Stryke, now up after the Fame and Fury, nails Erek with his own World Title, imprinting the name printed upon the belt's name plate, Erek Taylor, on its owner's forehead.

Axis: OH MY GOD!!! THIS IS A SAVAGAE ATTACK ON X FORCE NINE!!!

Edwin: Sore loser.

King: HA HA!!!! THAT'S RIGHT!!! MAKE THE FOOLS PAY!!!

As Ash and Erek remain down, Stryke and Jake deliver hard boots to the heads of their victims, purposely trying to do great bodily harm in their assault on X Force Nine. Jake adds a few Austin-like chair jabs to the ribs in while Stryke lands a few elbow drops on the knees of Erek Taylor.

Axis: SOMEONE COME OUT HERE AND STOP THIS BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!!!

Suddenly, the crowd pops like hell as the camera's attention is directed at center stage, where, coming down the ramp, steel chair in hand, is not Ced Ordonez or Chris Rayonr or LDP or Munich… but LOW BRASS!!! The former SJL Euorpean, Tag/Stables, and World Champion makes his way to ringside, sliding under the bottom rope to solve this problem in the ring.

Edwin: BRASS IS BACK!!! WOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Axis: Low Brass! Low Brass is back to kick ass!!!

ELM: Amigo!!!

As Brass enters the ring with his steel chair, Stryke and Jake jump ship, Brass swinging at and nearly smashing his chair on Helmsley as both men escape to freedom… for. They turn around, walking backwards as they taunt XF9, Ash slowly getting up while Brass slowly helps up Erek.

Axis: What a night! XF9 wins, but they are attacked by Stryke and Jacob Helsmley, only to have Low Brass make the save for them!!! What will happen on SJL Crimson? How will Ash and Erek co-exist as World Champ and #1 Contender? For The Suicide King and EDWIN MACPHISTOOOOOOOOOO!!!!, I'm Axis! G'night everyone! We'll see you on Saturday!

King: You don't close the show!!! This is my show!

Edwin: No it's not…

ELM: Buenos noches, amigos!!!!

King: AAAAAAAGGGGGHHH!!! SHUT UP!!!!

Just before King explodes in rage off camera, the shot cuts out to a blank screen, the televisions of a few million Americans turning off at this point, changing the channel, or watching the reruns of the A-Team that follow Metal… and you know what… I pity the fool that changes the channel during or after an SJL event!!!!

April 5, 2002

Results!

Mike Van Siclen opens the show with a declaration that he's going to get his Euro title rematch or run us out of business! Flashy little bastard! In just moments, he's out in the parking lot, trying to scam more people after he had a limo customized...oh MVS, you mischief maker!

Next up, Frost topped Z and the impressive Randy Turner! Word from the Suicide King on this: it was close as hell! Mr. Turner, you get ultra-huge props from the King himself for coming thiiiiiiiiiis close! Next time...

Erek Taylor, your SJL World Champion, came out from the back and made some announcements, but Stryke came out to ruin the party...and it looks like something suspicious is going on between Stryke and the commissioner. Jeez, Edwin's on everyone's hit list lately...

That crazy character, Cutthroat, put up a challenge to Randy Turner for Crimson. Should be interesting!

THE STEAK SAUCE COVERED BASTARD IS BACK WITH A VENGEANCE!!! T-Bone tops Kojack in a bit of an upset and wins the TV title! Where's Fury and IL when you need them...

More MVS hijinx...huh...

Deathwish does the impossible and makes the monstrous Dark Reaper tap out to the headlock chickenwing! Impressive mat-wrestling from Deathwish in a big win...

And finally, MVS meets up with...the people from the new National Lampoon movie? Whaaaa? Hey, I just print this stuff. I don't pretend to understand it. However, checking out my roommate's old Maxim reveals that Tara Reid is quite hot, so hey, do what you want, MVS.

Is Flesher using Z? Not very nice of him...

Mafia takes down the Jakester! He's mobariffic!

With the way Z seems to destroy everything he touches, you've got to wonder why Brody and Flesher even want to use him...heh...

In the Euro title match, Tom Flesher retains over Ced Ordonez, but only after Shawn Brody attacks him and draws a no-contest! The cruel Clansman seems to be severing the friendship as greed takes over--does Brody want a shot at his apprentice's new belt? More importantly, will he get it?

Z meets up with Flesher afterwards...and it looks like Flesher's still got a friend, even if Brody did turn on him.

Main event time! X Force 9, Erek Taylor and Ash Ketchum, defeat the team of Stryke and Flexxx...and Low Brass returns??!?!?! Already?!?!?! That was quick! Brass, I don't know if you're really back, so I'm not booking you for Crimson. Promo for the show if you are back. Anyway, Stryke and Flexxx lose out on the chance to go for a title shot...what does this mean for Ash and XF9? Time will tell...

Another marvelous show! You guys absolutely rule! The JL is kicking ass like never before, and I am truly impressed. Keep up the great work--we're only getting bigger. Expect a Crimson card sometime either tonight or tomorrow morning, but don't wait up for it--I've got a short play to finish writing before I can book, but I've got it under control. Bravo to all!

SJL Metal - Wednesday, April 3rd

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