SWF Lockdown 1-8-2004

[Kaertos 0]

Comet: Ladies and gentlemen, this is set to be a great evening’s SWF entertainment, as we return from the winter break with a card packed full of surprises and excitement. We have long standing King of the SWF hill Tom Flesher facing one of the most hardcore guys in the federation; Crow…

 

Riley: Danny Williams vs Ejiro Fasaki…

 

Comet: We have Wild and Dangerous taking on that Unholy Duality of Dace Night and Terry Bailey…

 

Riley: Danny Williams vs Ejiro Fasaki…

 

Comet: Mike Van Siclen FINALLY gets a piece of the Thugg…

 

Riley: Danny Williams vs Ejiro Fasaki…

 

Comet: Linchpin and The Grappler go head to head, Title for Title…

 

Riley: Danny Williams vs Ejiro Fasaki...

 

Comet: And yes we have, for the fourth time ever and for the biggest prize in professional wrestling today – “Deathwish” Danny Williams against Ejiro “Rule” Fasaski. We also have…

 

And the rasping voice of Derrick Green interrupts Comet as a cloud of smoke fills the entrance area, backlit dark blue from the gate lights.

 

In the howling wind comes the stinging rain,

See it driving nails into the souls on the tree of pain,

From the firefly, a red orange glow,

See the face of fear running scared in the valley below…

 

Cyan strobe lights fired from the entrance gates rise slowly from floor level to pierce the murky deep blue cloud, silhouetting two figures, one massive, one slight and wiry standing in the entrance way as black against the pale blue.

 

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAH!

 

A burst of bright white pyro fires from the left side of the entrance ramp.

 

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAH!

 

A second burst of bright white pyro fires from the right side of the entrance ramp, slightly further up.

 

BULLET THE BLUE SKY! BULLET THE BLUE SKY!

BULLET THE BLUE! BULLET THE BLUE!

 

The two men, the “Maori Badass” Va’aiga and his “Legal Advisor” James Matheson walk slowly out of the entrance area and begin their slow march towards the ring. Va’aiga looks implacably forward, totally focused on the ring and ignoring the crowd completely, while Matheson ducks and dodges around the abuse and small items thrown at him from the Chicago crowd. Va’aiga and Matheson step into the ring and wait in the middle for…

 

In the locust wind comes a rattle and hum,

Jacob wrestled the angel and the angel was overcome,

You plant a demon seed, you raise a flower of fire,

See them burning crosses, see the flames higher and higher!

 

A burst of flame from the ring posts shoots upwards into the arena clearing the air of the smoke and strobes and as the light from the pyro dies down the four men are assembled in the centre of the ring, the three wrestlers standing ready to fight.

 

Comet: Well that was certainly impressive.

 

Riley: Va’aiga and James Matheson are in the house, and Va’aiga has the microphone.

 

Comet: Cover your ears kids, he’s got a potty mouth.

 

Va’aiga addresses the crowd, looking out into them and glaring firecly, while Matheson stands behind him smirking. Va’aiga screws his face up and screams out at the corwd.

 

Va’aiga: HOU E TAU AHAU!

 

Va’aiga is greeted with a wave of boos, and he half sighs, half laughs to himself.

 

Va’aiga: What… The Maori can’t even wish you small minded worthless pieces of Choke Artist City crap a Happy New Year? You brain dead pieces of horse crap! I thought Chicago was the place where people went to ESCAPE racism! But none of you EVER give the Maori a chance.

 

VA-ING-UH SUCKS! VA-ING-UH SUCKS!

 

Va’aiga: See that’s my problem. Noone ever, EVER gave the time of day to the Maori.

 

Matheson shakes his head.

 

Va’aiga: Not management. Not the top guys in the fed. Not the guys in my own STABLE. See now the Trinity is over I became free to find guys to form something else. Something different. Then John Duran came to me with an idea. And it was an idea I LIKED. Then I got booked by the brain trust in a TRIPLE THREAT DUMPSTER MATCH. Can you IMAGINE the embarrassment, lowering myself in that insult of a match? And James Matheson here and myself had a talk. And then at Twas The Fight Before Christmas you got a taste… a little glimpse of what we’re capable of. And if you don’t know who we are? Well you’re in high powered company.

 

Va’aiga waits for another round of boos, and Matheson whispers something in his ear.

 

Va’aiga: See Grand Slam… let me tell you a little something about Graaaand Slaaaaam. Grand Slam is the reason Xstasy waltzed back into this federation into an ICTV slot. Grand Slam is the reason that Va’aiga never got a chance to shine. Charlie Matthews didn’t succeed cos of Grand Slam, he succeeded DESPITE him.

 

Riley: Va’aiga has a fair point there Comet. What has Grand Slam ever done for HIM?

 

Va’aiga: And while I’ve been buried down here at the bottom of the card, watching my career drift aimlessly onwards, what’s happened to those who used to be around me. Dace Night, the favoured son, the golden boy, the blowj…

 

Matheson shakes his head…

 

Va’aiga: Hmm… the guy who’s ass I saved a DOZEN times when we teamed. He got HIS title shot, and he got it the night I ended Silent’s career. One southern lights bomb onto a chair and one of the SWF’s most dangerous men goes staggering out of the arena, and what coverage did it get. NONE! And now Danny Williams gets HIS title shot, the same Danny Williams who I fought tooth and nail with, and the same Danny Williams I beat clean in the center of the ring, 1… 2… 3. WHERE’S MY TITLE SHOT? WHERE’S MY BIG CHANCE GRAND SLAM? ARE YOU LISTENING GRAND SLAM? WHAT’S MY NAME? WHAAAAAAT’S MY NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAME?!?!?!?

 

Then the lights go out... several seconds of hushed silence cause the crowd to become restless... they are clapping, talking, shouting, waving signs, waiting for whatever is about to happen...

 

::Crack!!!::

 

The crowd, simply put, explodes!

 

The crack of a bat and the roar of the crowd announce Grand Slam!! It quickly fades into the opening drumline of "Go Home" by Blessid Union of Souls. The SmarkTron lights up with baseball highlights mixed with big spots from Grand Slam's matches while flashing the words "Grand Slam", "Mark Stevens" and "The Heavy Hitter". The various multicolored lights flash in time with the rhythmic drumbeats until the drums roll fast and the lead singer yells out "Go Home", then the arena is flooded with bright white light!! Red and white pyro explodes at the top of the entrance ramp!! When the smoke clears and everyone can see again, "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens is standing underneath the SmarkTron!!! The crowd erupts in even more cheers for the Heavy Hitter!!!

 

Riley: Oh no. Here goes the neighbourhood.

 

Grand Slam runs back and forth on the stage, waving his arms, pumping his fists, anything to fire up the crowd! The Heavy Hitter walks down the ramp slowly, savoring every moment of cheers and pointing at various fans, slapping hands and keeping them screaming! Tonight, as the camera zooms in, he is wearing a baseball cap, split half an half between Cubs and White Sox!! When the crowd sees this, they cheer even louder, nearly drowning out his music!!

 

Riley: Suck Up.

 

Grand Slam grabs for a microphone and looks straight up the ramp at Va’aiga…

 

Grand Slam: OK, OK, OK… you got my attention, Va’aiga. Now What IS your problem? You’ve never been passed over. You’re a former Hardcore champion, AND a former tag champion, you’ve got a hot PPV record here and you could have earned your shot in the world tournament, if it didn’t coincide with your personal leave. You know that. That’s what launched Ejiro to world title status.

 

Va’aiga: Guys who got knocked out of that EARLY are still better placed than me. Guys who waltzed back into the federation after breaks are better placed than me. Guys who’s butts I have KICKED are better placed than me.

 

Grand Slam: You know what Va’aiga? That’s all I hear around here anymore. Bitching and moaning about so-and-so got a shot and I didn’t and “I should be higher on the card”. I can’t make any of you people happy, so I choose to make THESE GREAT SWF FANS HAPPY INSTEAD!

 

Riley: SUCK UP!

 

Grand Slam: Hey Bobby, I heard that. Remember I can always fire you and sit my own ass down at that commentary table.

 

Va’aiga: You let the morons blow you each way like the long clouds? That’s not leadership, that’s buckling under the weight of idiots. King never had that problem.

 

Grand Slam: As you may have noticed, I am not now and I never will be King. I run this federation MY way, the best way I know how… the RIGHT way.

 

Va’aiga: If you ran this federation right, you’d let guys you didn’t fight or tag up with get shots at the BIG titles.

 

Grand Slam: So, what you’re saying is you want some gold… shock of shocks.

 

Va’aiga: If Danny Williams wins tonight, I want a shot at the REAL gold.

 

Grand Slam: You never earned a world title shot…

 

Va’aiga: YOU NEVER GAVE ME THE CHANCE TO EARN A WORLD TITLE SHOT!!! DOESN’T BEATING A GUY ON PPV COUNT? DOESN’T *HIM* ATTACKING *ME* AT THE LAST PAY PER VIEW COUNT????

 

Grand Slam: I’m going to say this once. Don’t scream at me. I can’t book every guy who asks for a World Title shot in main events… then EVERYONE would ask for one.

 

Va’aiga: WHAT ABOUT X? HE ASKED, HE GOT, HE GOT HIS ASS KICKED.

 

Grand Slam: Different situation. He was ICTV champion.

 

Va’aiga: THEN GIVE *GRAPPLER* A WORLD TITLE SHOT

 

Matheson grins

 

Grand Slam: Keep yelling at me and I promise you that Stone Froze Jack Houston will get a title shot before you. What if Ejiro wins?

 

Va’aiga: What if Ejiro wins? I still want to kick Danny Williams’ ass. Danny Williams IS GOING TO *PAY*

 

Grand Slam: I don’t take threats Va’aiga. But I’ll say this… if you kick Xstasy’s ass tonight, and I don’t think you have a chance in HELL of doing that, then I think you’ll like your match next week.

 

Va’aiga: I WANT WILLIAMS!

 

Grand Slam: I don’t an…

 

Va’aiga: I WANT WILLIAMS!

 

As the match referee walks out, James Matheson tuts.

 

Grand Slam: You need to watch that temper Va’aiga. I have had just about enough of you. You will take what you are GIVEN, and you will learn just like everyone else. When you pitch a fastball like that to the Heavy Hitter, your stats are going to come out of it looking WORSE. And that...

 

Crows and Grand Slam: …my friend…

 

Grand Slam: …is a damn promise.

 

Va’aiga cools a little and looks at Matheson.

 

Va’aiga: Fine. You will have my response to this. I suggest you check your answer phone. Boo-yah.

[Kaertos 0]

James Matheson takes a slow walk down from the ring and takes a seat beside Bobby Riley and Cyclone Comet at the announce table. Comet gives the camera a pained look as he introduces the next match.

 

Comet: Well we open up here with what could be a classic encounter as former ICTV champion Xstasy faces the man who we just saw… The Maori Monster Va’aiga.

 

Riley: I don’t think there’s going to be any problem here for the Maori.

 

Matheson: It’s my qualified legal opinion that this is gonna be a BUTT-whoopin’, Bobby.

 

Comet: Are you actually legally qualified, Citizen Matheson?

 

Matheson: Well Va’aiga hired me as a legal advisor and are YOU going to argue with his choice?

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, already in the ring the first participation in this one fall match. Weighing in at 309lbs and hailing from Rotorua on Aetearoa,… this is the Maori Badass. VAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA’AAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGAAAAAAAAAA.

 

Funyon pauses and Va’aiga gives him a glare

 

Funyon: TOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEPOLLLLLLLOHHHHHHHTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

 

… AND I WANT YOU!!!!

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM

 

A huge explosion and a BLINDING shower of white sparks come from the entryway as the dreadlocked figure stands silhouetted in its midst!

 

YOU ARE THE PERFECT DRUG… THE PERFECT DRUG… THE PERFECT DRUG!

 

Funyon: And his opponent hailing from The Nation’s Capital and Weighing in at 211…

 

..and Funyon is stopped in mid sentence with Va’aiga standing in the ring waiting for the X, Xstasy rushes out through the cloud of sparks and heads on down to the ring full steam, sliding head first under the bottom rope. Va’aiga bearly has time to turn as X leaps at him and fires off a rapid set of kicks to the shin, thigh and side. Va’aiga steps sideways, driven a little by the force of the blows and Xstasy rolls backwards and crosses his arms over his head, earning a solid round of applause form the crowd. Xstasy ties his hair back and Va’aiga takes a deep breath and quickly regains his composure.

 

Comet: Xstasy coming out of the gates like a shot from a 45. I think given the accusations Va’aiga was throwing around I’d be steamed too.

 

Matheson: Xstasy is using his speed because that’s all he has. It’s my professional opinion that if Va’aiga catches him, Xstasy is screwed.

 

The Perfect Drug approaches Va’aiga side on dancing backwards and forwards, dodging a couple of wildly thrown jabs from the Maori Badass. Another pair of sniper like kicks makes Va’aiga stagger forwards, as X gets in close enough to wrap a roundhouse round the back of the Maori’s thigh. X rushes against the ropes and rebounds off, taking the Maori Badass down with a face crusher. X throws another pose to the crowd and adjusts his hair tie again as Va’aiga stands back up.

 

Riley: Come on Va’aiga… show this punk what it means to be a PROPER wrestler.

 

Matheson: I have full confidence that Mr Tu’ipolotu is going to succeed fully.

 

Comet: Twoehpowhat?

 

Riley: You mean you don’t know his name? Have you ANY idea how much trouble that could get you into, Comet?

 

Matheson: It’s my professional opinion you’d wind up on a slab somewhere.

 

Waiting on Va’aiga, X dances backwards and forwards in his Capoeira stance and tests Va’aiga’s reactions by swinging a lazy back leg crescent kick. The Maori is forced to Maori duck and X follows that with a lightning fast Capoeira spin kick, knocking the Maori Badass rudely off his feet. For a coup de grace The Perfect Drug adds a standing moonsault, showing off his altheticism.

 

Comet: I’m blown away by the fast start to this match from Xstasy. I’m not sure the Maori knows what to do with the fiery X.

 

Riley: X does have to concentrate on not being caught.

 

Matheson: One shot from Mr. Tu’ipolotu and that dreadlocked idiot there is going DOWN.

 

Leaping up to his feet again, X looks at Va’aiga and waits, watching for when the Maori is in range for any of his stylish kicks. Va’aiga stumbles upwards and X again lashes out with a series of stiff blows - leg, leg, body, leg, head and Va’aiga is left a little dazed and confused. Xstasy charges in and fires off the Upstar Slap into Va’aiga chest and for his troubles gets whipped sharpish over V’aaiga’s head with a lightning belly to belly Suplex!

 

Va’aiga: BOO-YAH!

 

With a disdainful downwards glance the Maori Badass ends down and drags up Xstasy, whipping him hard into the ropes. The Maori waits the second or two it takes to for X to get back to him behind snapping him over with a wheel powerslam! V’aaiga holds on to cover and Eddy Long drops to count…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

TH.. and Xstasy kicks out.

 

Riley: Look at the impact on that powerslam, Comet.

 

Matheson: That’s the sort of high impact offense you can expect from the Maori Badass.

 

A frustrated Va’aiga flashes a glare at Eddy Long as he stands, bringing Xstasy up with him. Another hard whip sends the X into the corner of the ring, and Va’aiga follows in with rapid shoulder first charges, spearing the poor dreadlocked grappler into the corner post.

 

Riley: That’ll knock the wind out of your system.

 

The temporary relief for Xstasy as Va’aiga quits driving his shoulder into X’s ribcage quickly transforms to sheer pain as the Maori grabs the X, throws him over his shoulder and slams the Perfect Drug down hard into the canvas. Va’aiga drops down and flips Xstasy over easy before grabbing for his legs and wrenching in a tight Boston Crab.

 

Comet: The old Boston Crab. Is this part of a revolutionary new strategy for the Maori Citizen Matheson?

 

Matheson: Va’aiga is winning by any means he chooses. I’m DAMN sure he knows what he’s doing.

 

Va’aiga leans back and growls through clenched teeth as he tries to pump up the pressure on Xstasy’s legs and lower back. Xstasy wiggles a little freer and Va’aiga has to adjust position slightly to prevent the X from breaking loose. The crowd busts out into an “X-STA-SEE!” chant and the X responds by maneuvering feverishly in Va’aiga’s hold, trying to squirm free.

 

Riley: I’ve been in one of them. That’s a painful move, Comet. That’s a REAL painful move.

 

Comet: I’ve been an active wrestler too, Robert. I am aware of these things.

 

Xtasy lets out a little scream of tension as he makes one last hue effort and WITH A JERK OF HIS BODY SNAPS HIS WAY OUT OF THE HOLD! The X leaps to his feet and rushes the ropes, rebounding and screaming towards the Maori Badass who watches X hurtle at him and ducks under the charging cruiserweight. X holds onto the ropes to prevent him from careering back towards the Maori Badass but the crowd boos as Va’aiga takes a big Maori step forwards and flings Xstasy over his head with a German Suplex! The crowd noise dies a little and back at the announce table Matheson turns round and pantomimes a shhhhh!

 

Riley: That’s the way to keep the morons shut up.

 

Comet: These fans pay your wages Riley!

 

Riley: My wages are paid by the SWF directors. There’s no “Bobby Riley” shirt, so I don’t get much from those sad cases of humanity at all.

 

Va’aiga on the mat holds on to the back waistlock and slowly stands, rolling through his German and setting up another one by backing into the ring ropes, and looking out into the crowd, backed up near the ring ropes Va’aiga launches Xstasy OVER the ropes with a release German Suplex! BUT X FLIPS OUT OF THE MOVE AND LANDS ON HIS FEET! XSTASY SLINGSHOTS BACK INTO THE RING AND TAKES THE MAORI DOWN WITH A BULLDOG! Xstasy covers…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

T… and Va’aiga kicks out.

 

Comet: Wow. That’s a huge move from Va’aiga and a huger counter from Xstasy.

 

Riley: That guy does more somersaults than anyone else in the federation.

 

Matheson: Leave tumblers for the circus. There’s nothing that beats a solid bearhug.

 

Xstasy throws the X sign to the crowd again as Va’aiga regains his vertical base. X looks to soften Va’aiga up and throws a ridge hand chop at the Maori Badass, and Va’aiga just stands there and glares at Xstasy. Another chop, another glare. A third chop and Va’aiga BLASTS Xstasy backwards with a left cross out of nowhere!

 

Riley: Is there any stopping Va’aiga? He’s like a brick wall against all the best efforts of Xstasy

 

Matheson: No. There isn’t.

 

Put firmly on his back foot Xstasy tries a Capoeira weave to avoid V’aiga, but the Maori fires a second left cross, then rapidly for a third before taking a step backwards, kissing his right fist and sending Xstasy FLYING down to the mat with a massive right hook.

 

Va’aiga: BOO-YAH!

 

Riley: Va’aiga: 100% of your recommended daily amount of Boo-yah!

 

Va’aiga looks up the entrance ramp where a pair of large figures are casting shadows into shot, before turning his attention back to the X. Va’aiga grabs down and hoists X into a standing head scissors, looking around the crowd before levering X onto his shoulders. Xstasy shakes his head furiously and tries to counter, maybe into a headscissors or a huracanrana, but it’s all academic as Va’aiga SMEARS XSTASY ACROSS THE CAVAS WITH A POWERBOMB!

 

Matheson: Mr Matthews move is very effective in the Maori’s hands, am I right?

 

Comet: Your assessment is correct Citizen Matheson.

 

The crowd noise builds with the collective sound of booing as out of the entrance gate step John Duran and Charlie Matthews. Duran strides confidently towards the ring and looks up towards the action while the Grappler takes his time getting down to ringside. Both men look like they’ve been exercising or something similar… small hints of physical exertion show through.

 

Comet: Duran? Grappler? This isn’t a handicap match! This is an OUTRAGE!

 

Matheson: Sometimes in life you have to make a statement, Comet. This is our time.

 

Riley: I agree James, this could be the start of something big!

 

Va’aiga rears back his arm and the hush of anticipation settles around the arena, as Va’aiga clearly signals for…

 

Riley: THE LARIAT!

 

…before charging headlong at the Perfect Drug and extending his arm… but with his last gasp of energy X ducks and spins round into a Capoeira Sweep! Va’aiga drops to the mat as Xstasy lays on the mat collapsed. The crowd noise builds with a chant of “X! X! X!” speeding slowly up as The X hauls himself up to his feet. Va’aiga crawls up to his knees as Xstasy charges and BLASTS VA’AIGA IN THE FACE WITH A SHINING CAPOERIA SIDE KICK! Va’iga flops to themat as Xstasy covers.

 

Comet: OH MY GOD! WHAT A MOVE! That HAS to be it for the Maori.

 

Eddy Long drops as Xstasy quickly covers…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

THRE… no and Va’aiga kicks out.

 

Riley: Never rule out big old Va’aiga.

 

Comet: Close call, and the X is getting all fired up.

 

Riley: Xstasy… fired… there’s an interesting thought.

 

Comet: That’s just uncharitable.

 

Xstasy gets back to his feet and snatches at Va’aiga, dragging the Maori up to his feet. Xstasy leaps up onto Va’aiga’s shoulders and rains down a blitz of blows before throwing his body backwards and spiking Va’aiga down to the mat.

 

Comet: XDDT! Xstasy is on the comeback trail.

 

Concerned at the recent comeback of Xstasy, Duran and Grappler hop onto the ring apron. Xstasy rushes blindly towards them, and leaps at the second rope looking for a quebrada style moonsault, but Duran snatches the rope away from him and Grappler makes a grab… but Xstasy does a backward roll out of Grapplers reach and rolls up to a vertical base, hitting a standing moonsault on the downed Maori!! That gets a little “HOLY SHIT!” chant! Eddy Long drops to count…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR… and Xstasy gets back to his feet quickly as Eddy Long stays down looking at Va’aiga.

 

Comet: Holy smoke indeed! Va’aiga gets flattened by an AMAZING aerial technique from Xsatsy!

 

Looking down at Va’aiga who is lying starfished on the mat, Xstasy looks out into the crowd and hops up onto the second rope Eddy Long checks on Va’aiga and puts a KO count on the downed Maori, but with the referee’s attention focused away from Va’aiga’s allies, John Duran and Charlie Matthews take the opportunity to strike! Rushing into the ring ropes Duran dislodges Xstasy who was busy throwing his hair tie into the crowd and the talented Capoeira expert falls crotch first onto the top turnbuckle.

 

Riley: Ouch!

 

Comet: Look at that blatant cheating.

 

Matheson: Strictly speaking it’s only cheating if a penalty is enforced.

 

Riley: So in your professional opinion; If the ref didn’t see it it didn’t happen!

 

Matheson: Yes.

 

Va’aiga hauls himself up to his feet, Eddy Long having broken the count, distracted by the crashing of X to the mat. Va’aiga quickly grabs X and sets him up Suplex style, hoisting the X over his shoulder before falling sideways and SMASHING XSTASY DOWN TO THE MAT WITH THE SOUTHERN LIGHTS BOMB! Va’aiga drops to cover…

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR.. and somehow someway Xstasy finds the effort to roll his shoulder off the mat.

 

Riley: That was three! That was the win!

 

Matheson: I agree.

 

Comet: OF COURSE YOU AGREE - YOU “REPRESENT” HIM!!!

 

Riley: Whoah, ease up on the coffee there Comet!

 

Smirking confidently to himself and abosirbing the boos of the crowd by ignoring them, Va’aiga takes a slow walk over to the still hurting Xstasy and hoists him up by the hair, and while X is stumbling the big Maori backs off a few steps and adjusts his arm pad.

 

Riley: He’s going for the lariat!

 

But Va’aiga stops in mid motion as John Duran shakes his head, and the big Maori spots it. Va’aiga throws a puzzled look out to his tag team partner, and Duran responds with an Agent Smith-esque crooked smile and a symbolic slash of the throat sign.

 

Comet: What in the name of all that’s good is this?

 

Matheson: Duran just made an executive decision…

 

…and Va’aiga grabs Xstasy by the arm and crosses the Perfect Drug’s arm across his own throat. The crowd boos furiously and the odd scattered scream or cry of “NO!” echoes through the arena. Ignoring these catcalls Va’aiga steps forwards and racks up The X on his shoulders, all the time choking out the unfortunate rising star with his own arm. Va’aiga takes in a deep breath and drops to a side DROPPING XSTASY RIGHT SLAP BANG ON THE TOP OF HIS GOD DAMN HEAD!!! That gets a mixture of boos and a massive “HOLY SHIT!”

 

Riley: The Va’aiga Stinger! Good LORD Xstasy looks like he’s been broken in half.

 

Comet: That might have been unnecessary, Matheson.

 

Matheson: It got the win for the Maori. It was necessary. Excuse me gentlemen.

 

Matheson walks away from the commentary table and joins up with the three wrestlers now all standing outside the ring. Va’aiga gives a passing glance back at the still laying X as the four walk away from the ring.

 

Comet: Well we have a winner in Va’aiga, and maybe this new alliance’s period of domination is beginning. Stryke vs Craven is next up, and we’ll be back after these advertisements.

[Kaertos 0]

Grand Slam Mark Stevens walks to his office door and sighs, as the door swings slightly off it’s hinges. The Heavy Hitter strides into his backstage office and…

 

Grand Slam: THE HELL?!?…

 

…surveys the carnage. His answer phone is bleeping, as it sits on the floor, on a desk split in two. Paper work lies all around the room, covered in dirt from three or four smashed Aecas brand plant pots. The whole place looks like it’s been gone over with…

 

Grand Slam: My baseball bats….

 

…two of Grand Slam’s Baseball Bats, lying on the floor, splinters of wood and shattered glass coming from them. The Heavy Hitter sighs and idly kicks his answering machine away from some paperwork which he begins to sift through.

 

Answer Phone: *beep* you have… one… new message

 

Va’aiga: WHAT’S MY NAME??

[Kaertos 0]

"Ben Hardy here," says our affable commentator, Ben Hardy, as we return from break, "with Mike Van Siclen. Mike, earlier this week you challenged both the Thugg... and Tom Flesher. Why the variety?"

 

"Well, Ben," replies Mike, "Thugg, I felt, needed to feel vengeance... and since Mak is not here to give that to him, I felt that I should do everyone a favor and do it... as for Tom Flesher, well, he took my spot, two years ago... he broke my leg, and for two years I waited for that moment when I could have my revenge. And now that we're both in the SWF... he's got nowhere to run anymore. I have my eye on Tom Flesher, and when the time comes... and it will come... he will feel all my anger towards him. And that's all that needs to be said."

 

Van Siclen walks away, and we...

 

Fade to black...

[Kaertos 0]

It's a bitter-ass cold night in Chicago, the snow still on the ground from the snowstorm over the weekend. Some people are working tonight, doing the various overnight jobs that keep our economy running and make sure that we can all rest just a little easier under that orange terror alert level.

 

 

Others are slaving their lives away in the third shift, producing goods that will probably be obsolete in a few weeks after the Japanese come up with a cheaper, better way of doing the same job.

 

 

Everybody else?

 

 

They’re sitting on their asses in a nice warm place watching SWF Lockdown.

 

 

Lucky them.

 

 

But inside that place, the United Center, is a packed house of rabid SWF fans, all who have come for some of pro wrestling’s best action, carrying signs and big foam fingers alike. Enough about the fans. Let’s go to the men who will be calling tonight’s action!

 

Riley: Welcome to the year 2004 and a new year of SWF action! We’re live in Chicago for SWF Lockdown! I’m Bobby Riley, joined as always by-

 

Comet: CYCLOOOOOOOOOONE COMET!

 

Riley: Unfortunately so. My Christmas wish didn’t come true this year...

 

Comet: Look, I pulled all the strings I could, but I couldn’t get that Asian porn guy you wanted...

 

Riley: You mean the director dude... right?

 

Comet: Well, if that’s what you call him...

 

Riley: Just shut it, Comet. Let’s get on to the next match on the show, where Stryke takes on the man who finally has a date with the World Champ, Michael Craven. Sure, he had to put up with Mark’s stipulations in that Away In A Manger match, but he came out on top, which equals title shot. Stryke, though, was just another loser at Fight Before Christmas in the four-way Stocking Stuffer opener. Just another chance to shake off the eggnog and champaigne, folks...

 

The lights dim as Slayer's "South of Heaven" slowly growls into life, fading more and more until the arena is cloaked in darkness, before a massive wall of blue and silver pyrotechnics erupts all across the stage. The sparks and smoke clears, revealing a spotlight shining down on the former Hardcore, Tag and ICTV champion Stryke! The crowd roars to life in boos, but Stryke wastes little time bothering with them, moving down the ramp towards the ring, Funyon commencing the introductions.

 

Funyon: The following match is scheduled for one-fall! Introducing first; from Sydney, Australia, weighing in at 235 pounds... STRYYYYYYYYKE!!

 

Stryke reaches the ring and slides in, popping to his feet and heading for the nearest turnbuckle, drawing a fresh wave of boos as he raises his right arm to the crowd. Stryke then quickly drops back into the ring, concentrating on the match at hand.

 

Riley: And here comes Stryke. *yawn* I’ve seen more exciting things floating around in my toilet.

 

Comet: Now Robert, that's not a very nice thing to say about Stryke! This man has won many championships here in the SWF, and he’s rightfully earned respect!

 

Riley: I’ll never understand your thought process, Comet.

 

Suddenly, the lights cut out, the crowd going silent for a second. Then, strobe lights pulse to the beat of the guitar and drums in the background as Saliva’s “King of My World” kicks in, the crowd beginning to boo as they realize who it is. As the first words kick in, the strobes cut out, a pale blue light covering the arena, illuminating the figure of Michael Craven as he walks out onto the stage, no expression visible on his shadowed face. Continuing his walk down to the ring, he turns around at the top of the ramp, walking backwards while stretching his arms out wide, soaking in the crowd’s jeers. Halfway down the ramp, though, he abruptly spins back around, swinging his right arm in a straight path across the top of the stage.

 

“BOOM!”

 

A huge blast of bright white pyro kicks up, the smoke lingering on stage for quite some time as Craven finishes the spin, continuing his walk to ringside without interruption.

 

Funyon: And from Tampa, Florida; weighing in at 280 pounds... “THE KING OF NIGHTMARES” MICHAEL CRAAAAAAAAVENNNNNNNNNN!!!

 

Entering casually through the middle and top ropes, Craven quickly scales the turnbuckle closest to him, opening his arms wide and soaking in the crowd’s response, a chorus of heavy boos, a white spotlight shining down upon him, casting shadows across his face. Mike remains up top, staring back at the entryway before he hops down and begins stretching on the ropes.

 

Riley: Behold The King of Nightmares and the next great wrestler in SWF history! Who needs Flesher when you’ve got a man that’s ten times greater than he is?

 

Comet: Non-sense! Citizen Riley, you are a biased, malignant man, whom has no right-

 

Riley: Hey, why don’t you stay the hell out of my business, you masked freak? I like who I like. That’s all you need to know.

 

Referee Timmy Thompson calls both men to the center of the ring, briefly making sure that both men know this match has no stips what-so-ever, then sends them back to their corners, signaling to the timekeeper...

 

DING DING DING!

 

And so the match begins, with the two men circling each other, albeit briefly. Where a tie-up normally takes place, The King of Nightmares begins the assault with his knees, drilling Stryke square in the chest. Stryke bends over, Craven clubbing him in the back with a forearm, then dropping an elbow into the spinal column almost as immediately as Stryke hits the mat. The Aussie rises to his feet, where Craven catches him off-guard, nailing a one-two knee shot combo into Stryke’s ribs, quickly locking him in a gutwrench position. But as Craven lifts him off his feet, Stryke rolls through the hold, breaking the lock while landing on his feet behind Craven, facing away from him. From that position, Stryke reaches up, grabbing Craven around the head, and dropping back, slams Craven down into a hangman’s neckbreaker!

 

Riley: Some quick action going on to start off this match between Craben and Stryke, with Craven getting the better of Stryke so far!

 

Comet: But Citizen Stryke justy countered into a neckbreaker!

 

Riley: So what? It’s a frickin’ neckbreaker. Big deal.

 

Craven sits up from the last move, rising to his feet along with Stryke, the two warriors having only just begun the long battle ahead tonight. Stryke strikes first with a hard right hand, only to be repaid in full by Craven by a right of Michael’s own. The Aussie fires back, cracking another hook into Craven’s face, but as Craven’s head whips around, another fist flies into Stryke’s face, turning the tide back towards Craven’s favor. Stryke shifts the momentum back, however, blasting another right hand into Craven’s face, only to once again find himself getting a right hand from Craven in return. But this time, Craven follows his punch, pulling his right arm around and back before swinging it forward, chopping Stryke square in the chest!

 

“SLAP!”

 

Crowd: WOOOOOO!

 

Stryke staggers back, but Craven unleashes another thundering chop across the chest of Stryke!

 

“SLAP!”

 

Crowd: WOOOOOO!

 

Stryke again staggers back, but not before Craven boots him in the gut, then grabs him around the head, stomps the mat, and flips Stryke back into a snap suplex! Craven, though, holds on, rolling over onto his belly, and pushing himself up onto his feet, stomps the mat again before flipping Stryke into a second snap suplex! Again Stryke slams into the mat, but Craven rolls over onto his chest, and again, rises to his feet. Once more, he stomps the mat, signaling for a snap suplex, but this time, he stops in mid-move, leaving Stryke hanging in the air for a second before Craven drops forward and throws Stryke into a reverse suplex!

 

Riley: Reverse suplex from Craven! Stryke down hard on his ribs, another quick hit onto that place! Perhaps Craven’s going after the chest area?

 

Stryke lands hard on his chest, bouncing slightly off the mat and finally coming to a rest on his back. Craven’s quick to cover him, Thompson droppig to his knees to make the count...

 

 

One!

 

 

Stryke kicks out! At least I tried, Craven thinks as he rises to his feet, cracking Stryke in the face with a fist to keep him down a tad bit longer.

 

Comet: And only a one count for Citizen Craven!

 

Riley: No worries, no worries. He’s just getting a feel for his opponent.

 

Comet: Much like you would get a feel for-

 

Riley: NO. Your job is to focus on the match, Comet. Do it.

 

Craven grabbing a fistful of Stryke’s hair as he pulls him to his feet, occassionally popping off a quick punch to the head with his free hand. Craven gets Stryke to his feet, anticipating the time he’ll get to spend beating the crap out of him for the moment, but Stryke pushes Craven back, and in the space he has created, leaps up into the air, thrusting his legs into Craven’s face! The dropkick knocks Craven onto his back, and as he rises, Stryke grabs him around the head, side headlocking him before he takes off across the ring, then drops Craven on his face with a bulldog! Craven grabs his face and rolls onto his back, Stryke pushing himself to his feet. Looking down at Craven as he begins to sit up, Stryke jumps into the air, dropping a knee into the side of Craven’s head! Craven grunts, rolling onto his back, but quickly, he begins to push himself up along side Stryke. Shaking his head quickly to make sure he’s still there, Craven rises to his feet, taking a step back, but Stryke jumps into the air, vaulting onto Craven’s shoulders. Wrapping his legs around Craven’s neck, Stryke flips back, sending Craven into a hurracanrana!

 

Comet: And a thundering hurrancanrana from Stryke!

 

Riley: You can’t use thundering to describe a hurracanrana!

 

Comet: Can you use booming?

 

Riley: I don’t see why not-

 

Comet: Then you can use thundering, since thunder is a boom!

 

As Craven lands on the mat, Stryke reaches back, and catching a leg, holds on, pinning Craven’s shoulders to the mat! The crowd pops meekly for the lesser of the two evils as Thompson drops to count...

 

 

One!

 

 

Out kicks Craven! The crowd quiets down while Stryke falls forward, but he begins to get to his feet while Bobby Riley ponders the logic of Cyclone Comet...

 

Comet: Good cannot quite keep evil down that time as Craven kicks out!

 

Riley: ... But thunder’s a loud crack, Comet, not a boom! That still makes no sense!

 

Comet: The topic’s dead, Robert. The topic’s dead.

 

Craven again shakes his head as he tries to his feet, sensing in his mind that he’s losing control over the match at this point, but even as he thinks it, a rising Stryke grabs Craven unexpectedly by the back of the head, and dropping to his knees, sends Craven into a jawbreaker! Craven bounces down onto his back as he's released, and slowly he sits up, but Stryke gets behind Craven, grabbing him around the head and neck, threading his arms into a sleeper hold!

 

 

 

Bad, bad call.

 

 

 

The bigger, stronger Craven hesitates for a few seconds, the hold beginning to lock itself in on the King of Nightmares, but after a few more seconds, Craven tries to fight his way out of it. Slowly, he plants an arm on the canvas, pushing himself to his knees. From there, he jams an elbow into Stryke’s ribs, causing the Aussie to grunt loudly. Craven doesn’t give up, though, slamming a second elbow into Stryke’s ribs, drawing a sharp grunt from Stryke’s ribs again, Mike pushing himself up past his knees. Not finding success with the elbows, Craven brings his arm up off the mat, and grabbing Stryke by the back of the neck, pulls forward, somehow managing to free himself from the sleeper and drag Stryke to the mat!

 

Riley: A huge counter from Craven, though I think Stryke didn’t have much of a choice. He was just holding on for dear life!

 

Comet: “Holding on for dear life?” I think you are over-hyping the situation, Robert.

 

Steadily, Stryke begins to get to his feet, but Craven grabs Stryke, lifting him up across his chest before he drops to a knee and nails Stryke with a rib breaker! The move draws a quick cry from Stryke, but Craven rises off his knee, lifting Stryke back into the air while he does so, only to drop back onto that knee and hit a second rib breaker! Another cry from stryke signals the move is working as Craven rises off his knee again, but this time, there’s no third rib breaker. Instead, Craven lifts Stryke over his head, pressing him into the air for all to see. Craven grins, Stryke trying to get free, but is unable to before Craven drops Stryke onto his shoulder and falls forward, driving the said shoulder into Stryke’s ribcage with a variation of the gorilla press slam!

 

Riley: A twin rib breaker-gorilla press slam combination from Michael Craven! Normally, there’s three in a row from Craven, but this may have had more of an impact on Stryke than that!

 

Stryke lands on the mat and cries out in pain, clutching his ribs as he begins to roll over, but Craven grabs him and pulls him back over, quickly covering him, hooking a leg while Thompson drops to count…

 

One!

 

Two-kickout by Stryke! The crowd pops for their “hero”, just glad to see that the mathc continues.

 

Riley: Not even two? What kind of job is this slacker trying to pull?

 

Comet: Slacker? Timothy Thompson is a well-respected referee here in the SWF, Robert. He’s quite fair-

 

Riley: Then why wasn’t that at least two? You saw how hard Craven slammed Stryke into the mat!

 

Comet: Maybe it wasn’t Thompson or Craven’s fault, Citizen Riley. Stryke may just be toughter than you think.

 

Riley: Oh, like I’m going to believe that line...

 

Slowly the two rise to their feet, Craven faster than the rib-clutching Stryke, but as they do, The King of Nightmares swings his right arm out, slapping Stryke across the chest with a hard knife-edge chop!

 

“SLAP!”

 

Crowd: Woooooooo!

 

Stryke staggers back, grabbing his chest, but Craven winds up and unleashes another scathing chop to Stryke’s chest!

 

“SLAP!”

 

Crowd: Woooooooo!

 

Again Stryke stagger back, allowing Craven to grab him by the wrist, and with a tug and a push, whip Stryke to the ropes! The Aussie flies across the ring, hitting the ropes and flying back at Craven, who bends down, grabbing him at the ankles. Leaning back up, Craven falls back, sending Stryke crashing straight down into the mat!

 

“THUD!”

 

The flapjack from Craven slams Stryke’s chest into the canvas, causing him to emit a cry of pain from his chest, rolling onto his back while Craven crawls forward towards Stryke.

 

Comet: Zounds! Flapjack by the always-sinister Citizen Craven!

 

Riley: Did you see how Stryke hit the mat? Right on that chest again! How much more punishment can he take there?

 

Crawling on top of Stryke, Craven hooks his leg, the crowd booing loudly...

 

 

One!

 

 

Two!

 

 

Kickout right after two by Stryke! Craven lets out a grunt of frustration, unhappy that he couldn’t pick up at least a near three-count with that. Regardless, he grabs hold of Stryke by the head while rising to his feet, determined to try and wrap this up as quickly as possible.

 

Comet: Craven does not look too pleased with Stryke’s kickout...

 

Riley: And he’s got every right to be. The man is ignored by Mark Stevens!

 

Comet: And I suppose that’s why Stevens gave him a chance to win a title shot, which he capitalized on?

 

Riley: That? No, that’s a result of Craven’s shining charisma and winning smile!

 

Comet: Shining charisma and winning smile? I’ll believe that when I see it...

 

The Aussie pulled to his feet, Craven rattles off two quick body blows, then grabs Stryke by the arm and whips him to the ropes. Charging across the ring, Stryke bounces back from the ropes, but Craven drops to the mat, scissoring Stryke around the ankles with a drop toe hold! Stryke falls forward, slamming into the mat on his chest and face again, but before he can react, Craven crosses Stryke’s legs using his feet, something he’s become apt at doing before he rolls himself over on top of Stryke’s back. Reaching back under Stryke’s chin with both arms, Craven pulls his arms back, locking Stryke down into a sickle hold!

 

Riley: Sickle hold from Craven! It’s all a matter of time now!

 

Stryke cries out in pain, his hands reaching out into the emptyness of air, then falling to the mat for a second before they reach out again, another cry blaring loudly. Craven growls and pulls tighter, going for the kill quickly, but Stryke puts a hand aganst the mat, slowly pushing with one hand, reaching out with the other. A few seconds later... bingo! He grabs hold of the ropes, and Thompson calls for a rope break immediately. Craven refuses, causing him to begin the five-second DQ count...

 

 

One!

 

 

Two!

 

 

Three!

 

 

Four!

 

 

Craven breaks right before five, angrily getting to his feet and arguing with Thompson, but Thompson will have none of it, forcing Craven to back off or lose.

 

Comet: What resilience by Stryke to get to the ropes! That’s the sign of a tough veteran!

 

Riley: Hey! That’s not fair! Thompson can’t push Craven around like that!

 

Comet: He’s the referee! Of course he can, Robert!

 

Getting to his feet, Craven begins to stomp into the chest of Stryke before he reaches down and grabs him, pulling him to his feet. Once there, Craven delivers a series of three quick hard body blows, then grabs Stryke’s arm and whips him to the ropes again. Stryke bounces back off the ropes just as Craven ducks down, The King of Nightmares scooping Stryke across his chest before spins and Irish whip powerslams him down into the mat!

 

Riley: What a powerslam from Craven! There’s no chance Stryke’s getting out of this one!

 

Craven, however, holds on, pinning Stryke to the mat, Thompson dropping to count...

 

 

One!

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

THR-Kickout by Stryke!

 

Riley: WHAT?!?! I don’t get it! Thompson must have counted wrong!

 

Comet: You’re obviously under-estimating Stryke. He’s a former Hardcore champion and a lot tougher than you think!

 

Riley: Well, so is Craven!

 

Comet: And you seen to play that up a lot, no?

 

Rising to his feet, an angry Craven grabs Stryke, peppering the Aussie’s chest with knee strikes to sedate him. But suddenly, as Craven pulls Stryke up, Stryke blocks one of the knee shots with one of his hands and throws a hard gut punch with the other. Craven grunts, Stryke hitting a second, and then a third gut punch, leaving the off-guard Craven doubled over in the middle of the ring while he turns and runs for the ropes. Bouncing off them just as Craven begins to recover, Stryke grabs him around the head and snaps him down with a very fast spinning neckbreaker! Craven’s head and neck jars into the mat, the pain form earlier in the match returning two-fold, causing him to grab his head as he slowly rises to his feet.

 

Comet: Great mother of Justice! Stryke is fighting back, and Citizen Craven is perhaps in pain once more!

 

Riley: Lucky... that’s all it was, luck...

 

As Craven rises to his feet, slightly bent over forward, a rising Stryke catches Mike up into a fireman’s carry, but instead of flipping him over, he rises up just quickly enough to drop back to a knee, slamming the face of Craven on the said knee with a facebuster!

 

Comet: Lo! Stryke’s fireman’s carry into facebuster combo! If this keeps up, Citizen Craven will have to eat Jello through a straw!

 

Craven grabs his face while Stryke crawls on top of Craven covering him for the pinfall attempt...

 

 

One!

 

 

Two!

 

 

Kickout by Craven after two! Stryke slowly begins to get to his feet as Craven rises to his, and when Craven’s almost up, Stryke grabs him around the waist. It's Stryke, though, that ends up getting lifted into the air from there, grabbed around the waist by Craven, who squeezes Stryke into a bearhug!

 

Riley: BEARHUG!!! Amazing! Stryke thought he had Craven, but Craven’s now got Stryke! His ribs are going to be crushed!

 

Stryke cries out in pain, now locked in a hold designed to destroy his weakened ribs. Craven managed to counter his attempt at a belly-to-belly suplex into this, The Gulf Coast Hurricane’s neck still weak. Stryke wigles around, causing Craven to clamp down, and Stryke screams again, the pain overwhelming him as he tries to break free. Craven smiles, perhaps feeling confident that his work on Stryke’s ribs is finally paying off, and that the only thing standing between him and victory now is time. The clock keps ticking as the fans cheer loudly, trying to encourage Stryke to keep fighting the hold, but Craven cransk the hold again, causing Stryke to cry and an arena of fans to boo for a second, but come back cheering louder.

 

Comet: Come on, Stryke! You must find a way to escape!

 

Riley: No! He can’t possibly escape this now! He’s just going to end up giving up or blacking out!

 

Now frantically trying to find a way out, precious seconds ticking by, Craven’s arms just beginning to feel the burn of suspending a 235-pound man off the ground, Stryke swings his arm with a bell ringer clap, but Craven pulls his head back, ducking the blow. He laughs and tightens the hold again, causing Stryke to cry out, but as Stryke writhes in pain, he comes up with the only thing that might work against Craven. Bringing his legs up closer to his body, he begins to lean himself forward, using the sudden shift to send Craven staggering back. The sudden weight shift causes the staggering, and while Craven works to correct it, Stryke suddenly shifts his weight to the side, and wrapping an arm around Craven’s head, lets gravity do it’s work, falling back while the two spin around, planting Craven into the mat with a tornado DDT!

 

Comet: TORNADO DDT OUT OF THE BEARHUG! Citizen Craven may be down for good!

 

As the two land on the mat, Craven falls onto his back, but Stryke rolls over, covering Craven for the pin!

 

 

One!

 

 

Two!

 

 

THR-NO! Craven kicks out of the pin!

 

Riley: Yes! A fine kickout by Craven! He’s not done yet!

 

Following the pinfall attempt, both men slowly begin to rise to their feet, Craven staggering as he gets to his, trying to catch his bearings after the sudden counter. He shakes his head, trying to get a grip on himself, but as he does, he staggers back, bumping into Stryke. The Aussie catches Craven, and with all of his strength, lifts him onto his shoulder, slowly straining as he lifts up the 280-pound Craven just long enough for him to spin around and drop back, Craven falling into a spinning backdrop! The King of Nightmares slams down hard on the mat, and slowly he sits up, grabbing his neck, but Stryke gets behind Craven, grabbing him around the head and neck, threading his arms into a sleeper hold! Again, we see the bigger, stronger Craven hesitates for a few seconds, the hold beginning to lock itself in, but after a few more seconds, Craven once more tries to fight his way out of it. Slowly, he plants an arm on the canvas, pushing himself to his knees. From there, he jams an elbow into Stryke’s ribs, causing the Aussie to cry loudly. Craven doesn’t give up, though, slamming a second elbow into Stryke’s ribs, drawing a sharp cry again from Stryke’s ribs again as Craven pushes himself up past his knees. But this time, Craven does not break out of the hold, as Stryke instead drops down face first, slamming Craven into the mat with a sleeper drop!

 

Comet: Holy Zeus! Sleeper drops by Stryke! That may be lights out for Craven!

 

Stryke, though, falls on top of Craven after the move, resulting in a pinning situation! Thompson sees this and drops to make the count as the crowd roars...

 

 

One!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! CRAVEN KICKS OUT!

 

The crowd goes nuts as Stryke falls over onto his back, neither man moving. Thompson drops down to checkon both men, and when they don’t respond, he gets back up onto his feet and begins the ten count:

 

Thompson: One!

 

Riley: I don’t believe it! First, the amazing kickout, and now, the ten-count has started up!

 

Neither man moves, the crowd cheering loudly for Stryke to get up as the count reaches...

 

Thompson: Twoooooo!

 

And still, neither Stryke nor Craven does as much as move a muscle, the fans still cheering loudly.

 

Comet: Neither man moving now, the count getting closer to three, and there’s gotta be concern with both men!

 

Thompson: Threeee!

 

However, we see the first movements as Stryke and Craven slwoly move, trying to find a position to get up in, doing so very slowly, all watching while Thompson counts to...

 

Thompson: Four!

 

The two men slowly begin to push themsleves up, the crowd chanting the name of Stryke loudly...

 

Crowd: Stryke! Stryke! Stryke! Stryke!

 

Riley: What the hell? Are the fans saying they’re going on strike?!?!

 

Comet: No, they’re cheering for Stryke, Robert! They want him to win!

 

Thompson: Five!

 

Stryke begins to rise to his feet, slowly rising while Craven mirrors him, the two seemingly racing to get to their feet as the count nears...

 

Thompson: Six!

 

With both men now at their knees, arms shaking, bodies slowly moving, they continue on, determined not to let the other get the advantage, the count rolling around to...

 

Thompson: Seven!

 

Stryke and Craven push themselves off their knees and to their feet, the crowd going into overdrive with their chant as they watch the Aussie get to his feet...

 

Crowd: STRYKE! STRYKE! STRYKE! STRYKE!

 

Thompson: Eight!

 

Both men finally reach their feet, but as they do, Stryke suddenly thrusts a leg up into Craven’s face!

 

“CRACK!”

 

The blow knocks Craven back and sends him smashing into a corner, where he lands, his arms drooping on the top ropes and keeping him somewhat suspended as Stryke falls to his knees, nearly out of breath.

 

Comet: A SUPER-POWERED SUPERKICK! Craven’s is out cold after that! Stryke is on the way to victory!

 

Staggering over to the corner, Stryke grabs hold of Craven, lifting him slowly up to the top rope, where he sits him down before he himself climbs up onto the second rope. Grabbing Craven by the head, he locks in a front facelock, but as he steps up to the top rope, Michael Craven plants both hands in Stryke’s chest and pushes off, freeing his head from the hold while sending Stryke back down to the mat!

 

 

“THUD!”

 

 

Stryke lands hard on his back, but he grabs his ribs in pain, since wrap all the way around your torso, and falling on your back might aggrivate them if they’re hurting.

 

Comet: NO! Stryke has fallen!

 

Riley: Looks like he was going for a superplex, but Craven caught him and knocked him down!

 

Slowly now, Craven ascends up to the top turnbuckle, sizing up his position. He stalls at the top for a second, then crouches down and leaps off, flipping into the air. He begins to quickly flip, throwing all the force he can into the moving mass that is his body, flipping nearly once around before his knees crash into Stryke’s chest!

 

Riley: KINGDOM COME! CRAVEN NAILS STRYKE WITH HIS FINISHER!!

 

Stryke screams out in pain as Craven slightly bounces forward off Stryke’s chest, but he slides slowly back on top of him, covering him as Thompson drops to make the count, the crowd booing loudly...

 

 

One!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DING DING DING!

 

“King of My World” blares over the speakers as Thompson signals that this one’s over, crowd booing loudly.

Funyon: Your winner... MICHAEL CRAVENNNNN!!!

 

Riley: And Michael Craven pulls off another great win! There’s more SWF action coming up after this commercial, though, so stay tuned!

[Kaertos 0]

The United Center is electric as SWF Lockdown returns from a commercial break! The SmarkTron fires up as Bobby Riley and Cyclone Comet sit at the announce table.

 

“Well, Comet, here we are with Tom Flesher waiting to take part in the first hardcore match of his SWF career,” says Riley.

 

“Odd booking by Commissioner Slam,” agrees Comet, “but Flesher is clearly a strong enough athlete at the basic levels that he’ll have no trouble with Crow.”

 

“I don’t know about that,” Riley says. “You can be as strong as you like, but a chair to the head will still put you out.”

 

“On the other hand, Flesher has an eighteen-inch neck.”

 

“Touché.”

 

The big screen shows a picture of Chicago Cubs star hitter Sammy Sosa in the crowd, prompting a mixed reaction.

 

“Why aren’t they cheering?” asks Riley.

 

“Corked bat,” says Comet knowingly.

 

The SmarkTron then fades into a view of a worried-looking Superior One walking through the halls of the United Center. Clad in his jeans and a silver short-sleeved button-down shirt, he ambles down the hall until hw sees the door marked ‘Officials.’ He knocks once… knocks twice… and then opens the door. Inside, Matthew Kivell sits on one bench, wearing his refereeing outfit. As Flesher strides into the room, Anthony Michael Hall walks out of the shower covered only in a black and white striped towel. Flesher looks over, shakes his head disgustedly, and grabs Kivell by the shoulder.

 

“What are you doing?” asks Matthew.

 

“This is a hardcore match,” Flesher says, “and you’re coming with me.”

 

“WAIT!” shouts Hall. “That was supposed to be my match!”

 

Flesher looks back, sees Hall in the towel again, and shudders. “Christ, I didn’t need to see that…. I’m taking Kivell, and next time I see you naked, I’m going to dress you up just so I can drop you on your head.”

 

“But… but… I need the-”

 

“Too bad. If you’ve got a problem, take it up with Andrea Montgomery. She’s the gorilla tonight.” From there, Flesher grabs Kivell by the ear and stalks out of the room, pulling the referee along with him.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” shouts Kivell, bending at an uncomfortable angle as Flesher guides him down the hall. “I’m a referee! You can’t put your hands on a referee like that!”

 

“What are you going to do, disqualify me?”

 

Flesher continues down the corridors in the bowels of the United Center. “Fans,” says Cyclone Comet, “this odd series of events will continue when we return in just a moment! The picture fades to a commercial for PepsiMALT, Pepsi’s new brand of malt liquor, featuring HVT.

 

===

 

“And we’re back,” says Bobby Riley as the picture fades back in. “I wonder what happened there…”

 

Crow stands in front of the velvet curtain, cigarette in hand, ready to make his entrance. Off to the side, a smallish blonde woman with a headset stares intently at the curtain. He takes a drag off the cigarette, slowly and pensively inhaling.

 

“Cirillo,” she says to the Gothic Avian, “I just wanted to remind you that Gonzalez wants you to eat babies before you blade on your way to the border run.”

 

Crow’s brow furrows. He exhales the smoke and says, “What the hell are you talking about?”

 

“Never mind.” Andrea shakes her head sadly and murmurs, “Stupid f*cking bird.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Never mind.”

 

Crow lifts the cigarette to his mouth again, inhaling, waiting for Motor Head’s “Imperium” to start blaring over the loudspeaker. Suddenly…

 

 

THWACK!!!!!!

 

 

Crow goes spilling to the floor, caught from behind with a Yakuza kick! He falls to the floor, his cigarette falling out of his mouth. Tom Flesher steps in behind him, waving to road agent Andrea Montgomery as he enters the scene. He sits down on the Antichrist Superstar’s back and sees the cancer stick laying on the floor. He picks it up and brings it to his mouth, taking a long, thoughtful drag on the cigarette. After a moment, he exhales a cloud of smoke, then stands up and looks at the road agent.

 

“It’s no Frost-brand cigar,” he says to Andrea with a shrug, “but it does the job.”

 

He grabs a handful of the Antichristian Phenomenon’s hair and lifts him to his feet, then pulls him through the curtain. The Chicago fans go wild as Flesher walks down the aisle, pulling Crow along with him and finishing off the bird’s cigarette. As he gets close to the ring, he flicks the cigarette BUTT at the ring steps, then throws Crow under the bottom rope and into the ring.

 

“And it looks like this one is underway!” says Cyclone Comet. “Unorthodox tactics from the Superior Citizen start this match off…”

 

“I can’t believe you’re endorsing this kind of crap!” says Bobby Riley. “Tom Flesher is plainly and obviously taking advantage of the hardcore rules of this match!”

 

“Oh, horrors,” says Comet dryly.

 

Flesher slides in behind Crow, then grabs him by the wrist. He lifts the Gothic Avian to his feet and whips him to the ropes. As he rebounds, Flesher catches him by the arm and executes a picture-perfect hiptoss onto the mat. He drops down onto Crow, and Kivell counts

 

 

ONE!

 

 

But the Australian kicks out. Flesher backs off, and as Crow sits up, Tom throws a dropkick that catches him in the side of the head. Crow flops ineffectually back to the mat, but rolls to his stomach to avoid a pinning combination. Flesher immediately repositions himself in front of the Gothic Warrior, grabbing him by the head. He tightens his arms around Crow’s head and neck, pulling the left arm back and clasping his hands under his opponent’s chin. With his front headlock cinched in, Flesher sprawls backwards. As Crow tries to balance himself out, Flesher throws a stiff knee strike that nails him in the head! The crowd cheers as Flesher assaults Crow’s head with two, three, four more knees! Flesher waits for the stunned Australian to stop fighting, and then stands up. Tightening the headlock again, Flesher walks Crow over to the corner. He spins around, then releases the headlock and shoves him back into the corner. As Crow leans against the turnbuckles, Flesher slams a palm into his jaw! The Antichrist Superstar, not expecting it, remains stunned for a moment as Flesher backs away.

 

“Flesher takes advantage of his blindside attack on Crow,” says Bobby Riley, “and parlays it into a continuing dominance in the match. That’s just wrong, Comet. Don’t you agree?”

 

“This is a hardcore match, Robert. Even if there WERE rules, Matthew Kivell wouldn’t be able to disqualify the Superior Citizen for breaking them.”

 

“Well, there should be some kind of retribution! This shouldn’t go on unchecked!”

 

“Don’t worry. All the injustice will end after someone gets pinned.”

 

Flesher charges in at Crow, but the Gothic Avian catches him as he comes in by popping his boot up and nailing him in the face! Flesher staggers backwards, and the crowd cheers as the Antichrist Superstar shakes off the impact and steps out of the corner. As soon as the former World Champion drops his guard, Crow steps in and violently slashes his nails across Flesher’s face with a claw swipe! Tom steps back, covering his face, caught off-guard by the brazen scratching of Crow’s sharpened nails, and looks at the official. Kivell simply shrugs and reminds Flesher that this is, in fact, a hardcore match.

 

“Flesher, despite starting the match through unconventional means, seems to have trouble adjusting to the hardcore style of the competition,” notes Comet. “Flesher is, of course, much more well-accustomed to a style of wrestling with rules, regulations and laws, where he can exploit the rules to their legal limit and force an opponent into submission.”

 

“Serves him right,” says Riley. “He’s a one-dimensional, inflexible wrestler with a bad case of tunnel vision. If you can’t compete in all the different styles, you don’t deserve to be World Champion. That’s why my man Ejiro Fasaki was able to take Tom out – foiling him and making him change his style, then throwing it back in his face.”

 

Crow follows Flesher to the center of the ring and rocks him with a stiff knife-edge chop!

 

 

*SMACK-WHOO!!!!*

 

 

Flesher holds his ground, trying not to let the bird get too much of an advantage early on, but the Gothic Avian opts instead to slam into him with a clothesline that sends Flesher several steps back. Crow continues the assault by grabbing Flesher by the wrist and sending him to the near side of the ring. Flesher rebounds, and Crow snags his arm. He falls to the side, pulling the former World Champion over with an arm drag! Flesher hits the mat hard, and Crow keeps his grip on the wrist. Both men make it back to their feet, and Crow does his best to keep the advantage by slamming a boot into Flesher’s ribs! Flesher tries to back away, but the Australian keeps his arm and pulls him into a knee strike to the rib cage! Flesher stands straight up from the shock, and the Gothic Avian spins on one heel to nail him in the back of the head with a hard roundhouse kick! The crowd bursts into applause.

 

“Das Wunderkick!” shouts Comet. “The Antichristian Phenomenon catches the Superior Citizen by surprise with a devastating kick to the medulla oblongata, and it’s not looking good for the home team.”

 

Flesher collapses to the mat, and Crow drops onto him, covering as Matthew Kivell makes the count:

 

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

No! Flesher kicks out. He stays on the mat for a few seconds, and Crow takes the opportunity to slide out of the ring. Flesher sees him head to the floor and follows him out, hoping to get a leg up on his opponent. Crow lifts the ring apron and rummages around, looking for a suitable weapon. Flesher kneels down, raising an eyebrow and looking curious. He, too, looks around under the ring, and Crow pulls out a Singapore cane. The crowd pops for the first real weapon to be introduced in the match, but the bird doesn’t use it on Flesher. Instead, he hands it to the Superior One, saying, “Take a look at this, mate.” Flesher merely examines in, his eyebrow cocked.

 

“Flesher seems… er… confused,” says Comet, not sure how to react.

 

“Wait,” Flesher says to Crow. “All this sh*t’s been under the ring the whole time?”

 

“Yeah,” nods the Australian. “Completely legal, too.”

 

“I’ll be damned,” the Superior One says, shaking his head in amazement. Crow shrugs and grabs the cane, but leaves it in Flesher’s hands. Before the former World Champion knows what’s happening, the Gothic Warrior pulls the cane back, then releases it. The cane snaps back, nailing Flesher in the face! Tom staggers backwards, looking truly confused, before Crow steps in and nails him with another claw swipe! He sweeps Flesher’s legs out from under him, taking the Superior One to the mat and drawing a cheer from the crowd.

 

“Well, that’s what Flesher gets for not knowing anything about the match,” cackles Riley. “What a tool.”

 

“Indeed,” says Comet, “the Singapore cane is one of the seminal tools of hardcore wrestling since the independent boom in the Northeast in the 1990s. After American Michael Faye was caned for stealing street signs in Singapore, the cane became quite the popular weapon in Philadelphia, and as we know it was all downhill from there.”

 

Riley simply shakes his head and sighs.

 

Crow peels the incoherent Flesher off the floor mats and lifts him up to his feet as Matthew Kivell slides out of the ring. Holding him by the head, the Goth leads him over to the nearest cornerpost and slams him headfirst into the steel! Flesher staggers backwards, but the bird catches his head and once again slams him into the metal post! This time, Flesher falls to the matting holding his head. Crow drops onto him, and Kivell counts

 

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

NO! Flesher kicks out comfortably before the three. Crow slides onto his chest and slams a stiff right hand into the former champion’s head, stunning him for a few seconds, and then pulls him out a few feet, perpendicular to the ring apron. From there, the bird quickly moves over to the steel steps. He climbs to the second step and leaps off, flying at Flesher with a splash! Flesher, though, opens his eyes and rolls out of the way, letting his opponent splatter on the concrete!

 

“The Gothic Avian flies right into the proverbial windshield,” deadpans Cyclone Comet. “Tom Flesher avoids a flying splash and the certain doom with which it comes.”

 

“You know, I like this Crow fruitcake,” says Riley. “He’s a little goofy, but it’s not that important. What’s important is that not only is he willing to risk his body in order to put nutjobs like Tom Flesher out of commission, and in my book that spells respect.”

 

“Of course, Robert, your book is ‘Frog and Toad Are Friends.’”

 

Flesher dusts himself off as he gets to his feet, and Crow lays impotently on the floor. Tom, out of habit, grabs him by the head and lifts him to his feet, slapping on a front facelock. He ducks down, ready to suplex the Gothic Warrior, but looks to the side and sees the steel steps. He quickly adjusts his position, turning his back to the stairs and then executing a snap suplex! As Flesher falls back to the mat harmlessly, he drops the bird back-first onto the stairs! The sound of Crow’s back slamming down onto the steel echoes through the United Center as Flesher gets to his feet. He starts a golf-clap for himself, smirking, and the crowd returns the favor.

 

“It seems that the crowd is having a hard time deciding which combatant to support,” says Comet. “The fans are simply cheering everything that either wrestler does.”

 

“Stupid fans. If they weren’t paying my salary…”

 

“… you’d probably be a streetwalker.”

 

Flesher pulls the Goth off the stairs and covers him. Matthew Kivell drops down and counts

 

 

ONE!!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

 

 

KICKOUT!!!! Crow gets a shoulder up in ample time to break the pin. Flesher, seeming to realize that he got lucky, rolls Crow back into the ring and follows him in.

 

“Flesher knows better,” says Comet, “than to spend more time on the outside than he has to. Crow is a resourceful fighter and knows how to use the outside-ring area to his advantage, whereas Flesher is more of a straight mat worker.”

 

“Tunnel vision. I’m telling you.”

 

Flesher gets to his feet as the groggy Goth starts to sit up. He kicks Crow in the face, slamming him back to the mat, and then lifts him by the arm. He whips the bird to the opposite ropes and plants himself in the center. As Crow bounces off the ropes, Flesher steps forward and extends his arm. Crow runs face-first into Flesher’s stiff palm, and the bird collapses to the mat as if his feet had been taken out from under him!

 

“SHOTEI~!” shouts Comet. “Flesher nails the Gothic Avian with a palm strike, and this could be it!”

 

Flesher smirks and drops down onto Crow. Matthew Kivell sprawls and counts

 

 

ONE!!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

KICKOUT!!!!!!

 

“And the bird kicks out!” shouts Comet, equally impressed. “The intestinal fortitude being shown by these two competitors is just incredible.”

 

“So say you, Mr. Comet,” says Riley, “but you impress easy. Meanwhile, Flesher’s hitting people with his HAND and you expect it to end the match?”

 

“Need I remind you about the time Grand Slam explained the effectiveness of the shotei?”

 

“I’ll be good,” the Outsider whimpers.

 

Flesher, displeased, stands up, grabbing Crow by the hair. He starts to pull Crow into the corner, but the Gothic Warrior stops the motion with an elbow to the stomach! Flesher doubles over, but Crow straightens him back up with a knee strike to the face. He then whips Flesher to the ropes and snags him with an armdrag on the rebound. Flesher hits the mat and quickly rolls away to avoid being caught with a roundhouse kick. He backs into the ropes, where Crow charges at him. Flesher ducks down and quickly elevates, sending the bird over the top! He staggers away from the ropes, dusting his hands off, even as the high-flying Goth grabs the top rope and lands on his feet on the ring apron! The crowd applauds the wrestler’s acrobatics. Flesher, with his back turned, sees nothing. He casually turns around, preparing for his baseball slide dropkick, only to be caught with a slingshot senton! Crow nails him with the somersault bodyblock, sending Flesher spilling to the mat in center ring! He hooks Flesher’s leg, catching him with a cheap cradle for

 

 

ONE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO!!!!!!!! Flesher kicks out and sits up.

 

“Crow catches Flesher off-guard,” says Riley. “He’s ring-aware, knows how to control his body. Flesher knows a lot of pretty suplexes and crap like that, but if you look at it, he can’t perform unless he’s standing straight up or flat on the mat. He’s not versatile, he’s not fast and he’s not an asset to the SWF. I don’t know why he’s even under contract anymore.”

 

“What a fountain of misinformation you are, Robert. Citizen Flesher is without a doubt one of the most talented –”

 

“Blah, blah, blah. Call me when you learn something about wrestling.”

 

Flesher starts to get to his feet, but the Gothic Warrior grabs him and pulls him into a side headlock. He wrenches Flesher’s chin and steps to the side, then grapevines his leg. With a flick of one leg, he pulls Flesher to the mat with a Russian leg sweep!

 

“Neckbreaker!” shouts Bobby Riley, channeling a fat man.

 

Crow leans over to cover Flesher, but the former World Champion rolls away before the official can make a count. Flesher rolls to the outside, leaning on the apron to take a breather.

 

“Tom Flesher makes a stupid, stupid move,” says Bobby Riley. “He knows he can’t win on the outside, but he runs like a coward to the floor instead of sticking around in the ring to fight Crow like a man. Where’s your messiah now, Comet?”

 

Crow sees Flesher sliding out and jumps to his feet. He sprints to the ropes on the opposite side, bounces off, and charges toward Flesher. Crow vaults over the top rope, soaring through the air like his namesake and hitting Flesher headfirst as he flies over the top rope and to the floor! Matthew Kivell follows him out, seeing a possible pin coming.

 

“Tope con hilo by the Gothic Avian, and Flesher goes down!” Comet is excited by the action, and Crow nails Flesher with a stiff right hand. He then climbs onto the apron as Flesher slowly gets to his feet. “And it looks like he’s going to take to the air again!”

 

“I told you, he’s just one hundred percent better than Flesher on the outside, and Flesher goes out into Crow’s arena just because he’s lazy. Shameful, Comet! Just shameful!”

 

Flesher stands up, just in time to see the Antichristian Phenomenon jump off the apron, spring off the bottom rope and arch backwards, nailing him with an Asai moonsault! The Superior One collapses to the concrete floor, where the Gothic Avian stays on him for

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH- NO!!!!!!!!!!! Flesher kicks out, and Crow looks pissed.

 

“The bird’s having a hard time putting Flesher down for the count,” Riley says, “but clearly it’s only a matter of time before Tom’s on his back for good.”

 

The Superior One rolls away, trying to get away from his attacker. He leans against the guardrail, hoping to catch his breath. Crow, however, goes after him, hoping to capitalize on the pressure he’s put on him already. He throws a hand at Tom, slashing his face once again with his grotesque fingernails. Flesher tries to back away, but ends up crashing into the guardrail. Crow ducks down, grabbing Flesher around the waist and locking his hands for a Northern Lights suplex! He starts to arch, but Flesher holds on to the guardrail to keep him from lifting. Crow strains, but Tom regains his footing and slams an elbow into the back of his neck to stop the motion. With the bird slightly stunned, Flesher locks on a front facelock and ducks down, in position for a vertical suplex. He lifts Crow up and holds him upside down, looking like he’s about to suplex the Gothic Warrior onto the front-row fans! He stalls…

 

“… holding the Antichrist Superstar upside down over those fans! The blood, rushing to the Australian sensation’s head, and this can only end badly for Crow, and possibly the paying front row!” says Comet.

 

“Good thing it’s just that Sammy Sosa guy,” Riley sneers.

 

Flesher spins the upside-down scavenger around, then sits out! He slams Crow to the concrete back-first, executing the Superiority Complex variation of the Falcon Arrow! The bird splats on the concrete, and Flesher hooks both legs from his sit-out position! Matthew Kivell counts

 

 

ONE!!!!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

THRE- NO!!!!!!!!!!!! Crow kicks out! Flesher shakes his head, disappointed, and stands up. Still gassed, he leans against the guardrail for a few seconds. Behind him, Sammy stands up, pounds his chest twice, kisses his fingers and flashes a peace sign. Flesher puts a hand over his face and shoves him back into his seat, drawing cheers from the crowd.

 

“Why the hell is the crowd cheering that?”

 

“Well,” says Comet, “they’re still mad at him for corking his bat. Flesher piefacing him basically made up for it, I assume.”

 

Flesher grabs the Antichristian Phenomenon by the hair and rolls him into the ring. From there, he slams a palm into Crow’s face, then whips him into the corner. The crowd begins to cheer as he charges in, nailing his opponent with a Yakuza kick! This draws a huge pop from the crowd, which recognizes his signature spot. He backs away, allowing a pregnant pause, and then sprints into the corner, leaping off the mat to hit Crow with an avalanche! The crowd cheers, knowing the sequence by heart. Flesher lifts the Gothic Avian to the top rope, pauses, and then nails him with a leaping, spinning palm strike!

 

“Flesher hits the Venus, and we all know what comes next!” says Cyclone Comet. “It’s time for the Boilermaker!”

 

Triumphantly, Tom Flesher climbs to the bottom rope. The crowd’s cheers grow louder as he gets to the second rope, and finally to the top. He looks out at the crowd… and suddenly, his head drops. As the crowd’s reaction changes dramatically, Flesher backs down the ropes and steps to the canvas. With his head hanging, hands on his hips, Flesher stands, facing the center, absorbing the crowd’s boos and catcalls.

 

“Ha! Freaking coward!” laughs Bobby Riley. “He’s afraid to do the move!”

 

“Tom Flesher… uh…” Comet, caught by surprise, isn’t quite sure what to say. “He, uh, seems a little gun-shy about performing the Boilermaker, after…”

 

“After Ejiro Fasaki countered it and took away the World Title!” Riley cackles.

 

“And, er, Tom Flesher has just backed out of performing the Boilermaker.”

 

Flesher shakes his head sadly, then turns around to face Crow. The Gothic Avian surprises him by leaping off the top rope! He grabs Flesher’s head and swings down, slamming him headfirst to the mat with a tornado DDT!

 

“MURDEROUS DDT BY THE ANTICHRIST SUPERSTAR!” says Comet, quickly regaining his enthusiasm.

 

“There’s your superstar! Crow’s not afraid to put his body on the line just to make a move. Tom Flesher’s afraid of LOSING again like he LOST to Ejiro! He’s out! Crow’s the wave of the future!”

 

“You heard it here first. Crow, no longer Goth, embraces New Wave.”

 

Flesher hits the mat hard and flops onto his back. Crow hooks his leg, cradling him tightly for

 

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

NO!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Flesher gets his shoulder up at the last possible moment and avoid the fall! He sits up, shaking his head to try to shake off the head bump. The bird stands up, pissed, and kicks Flesher in the ribs. Tom tries to scoot away, but Crow continues booting him over and over until he decides it’s just easier to grab Flesher’s head and kick him there. He pulls the Superior One’s head into his torso and slaps on a tight front facelock. He ducks his head under Flesher’s arm, prompting a cheer from the crowd.

 

“Crow sets up the Natural Born Chaos jumping brainbuster,” Riley says, “and finally the fans know what’s good for them. They’re cheering for the man who can finish the job!”

 

Crow lifts Flesher up, ready to jump up and slam Flesher down onto his head with the Natural Born Chaos. Flesher, though, shifts his weight in the air! Crow tries to adjust to keep Flesher in the air, but the Superior One manages to flip to the back and land on his feet behind the bird!

 

“But Flesher is still the undisputed master of the brainbuster,” shills Comet. “He knows what one feels like, he knows when one is coming and he knows how to counter out of them! He slides out of the Natural Born Chaos brainbuster…”

 

“Like the weasel he is!”

 

“Did you say ‘weasel?’ I’m sure you meant ‘mink.’”

 

Crow spins around, trying to regroup before Flesher can take advantage of the situation. Tom, however, grabs him by the tricep and pulls him into a short-arm clothesline! The bird stumbles backwards, and Flesher follows it up with an Irish whip! Crow rebounds, and Flesher steps forward, looking for a Yakuza kick! Crow ducks down, and Flesher, off-balance, runs like a freight train…

 

 

… right into Matty Kivell. Poor bastard.

 

 

“Referee Matthew Kivell eats a Yakuza kick,” says Comet solemnly, “and I don’t know that he’ll be seeing action before next week. Ouch.”

 

“Disqualify that jerk!” screams Riley. “He Yakuza kicked the referee! What more do you want? Does he have to SHOOT the guy?!”

 

“Even if he COULD be disqualified in this hardcore match,” says Comet, “it was clearly accidental!”

 

“Sure, that’s what you say NOW, but you wait until Kivell’s in a neck brace for the rest of his life!”

 

Flesher looks down, surprised at the off-kilter nature of his move. His attention isn’t taken up for long, though, as Crow comes charging at him with a running bodypress! He leaps off his feet, and Flesher steps forward! He catches the Gothic Avian, and backs up a few feet before shifting his grip around. He switches off to a bear hug and looks over his shoulder, then arches powerfully back! He released Crow at the high point, and, well…

 

“This bird can fly!” shouts Comet, as Crow flips through the air and lands with a splat on the concrete! “Flesher catches Crow and sends him over the top rope with a Railgun suplex! Simply amazing technique on the part of the Superior One.”

 

“Come on, Crow! Get your backward penal colony ass off the ground!” shouts Riley.

 

Flesher steps through the ropes and surveys the ringside area for a second. Then, after taking a deep breath, he raises his arms into the air! The fans rise to their feet as Flesher leaps off the apron, floats through the air for a second and finally connects with Crow, nailing a superfly-style splash to the concrete! Out of habit, he hooks the Antichrist Superstar’s leg… but there’s no one to count! The crowd boos, and Flesher angrily gets up.

 

“No referee!” cackles Bobby Riley. “Flesher can’t win this one without a ref! Ha! What a loser!”

 

“Sadly, you’re right. Flesher WILL be declared the loser, despite clearly having the match won, if Matthew Kivell doesn’t come around fairly soon, and if Crow is able to take control again.” Comet sighs sadly. “Sometimes, Robert, I wish your commentary were even slightly less apt.”

 

Frustrated, Flesher gets back up on the ring apron. He stands there, looking up the aisle and at the curtain, and alternately looking down at the motionless Matthew Kivell. Finally, Crow gets up.

 

At the same moment, the crowd begins to cheer! Referee Anthony Michael Hall sprints out from behind the curtain, swinging the curtain so wide open that the fans can see road agent Andrea Montgomery shooing him out to the ring! As Crow throws desperate punches, Hall runs down the aisle!

 

Flesher fends off Crow’s punches and kicks him stiffly in the face once… twice… and a third time to silence him for good! As Hall makes it to ringside, Flesher spins his adversary around and plants a knee in the back of his head. He holds the Gothic Avian by the hair and jumps off the apron, sending Crow tumbling forward with an Ego Trip to the concrete! The crowd bursts into cheers!

 

“Tom Flesher hits the Ego Trip!” shouts Comet! “Here’s the count!”

 

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!

 

 

Anthony Michael Hall helps Flesher to his feet and raises his arm as Funyon announces, “The winner of the match, ‘the Superior One,’ TOM FLESHERRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!”

 

“And there’s your winner!” says Comet proudly. “He bounces back from adversity and comes out ahead!”

 

“That referee wasn’t even supposed to be out here!”

 

“It was his match in the first place, and it’s only fitting that Anthony Michael Hall makes the final count in this match!”

 

As Flesher celebrates at ringside, the fans cheer, and SWF Lockdown fades out to another commercial for PepsiMALT, this one featuring Mak Francis.

[Kaertos 0]

“…and then, get this, I told him that they WEREN’T ACTUALLY TESTICLES!”

 

“Uh, Bobbo? We’re back on the air.”

 

“Cue the mass befuddlement and hilarity.”

 

*BOOM!*

 

SWF Lockdown officially explodes back onto the airwaves in the first broadcast of the new year! Several upon several thousand of Chicago’s finest citizens fill the jam-packed United Center to the brim, all cheering and shouting in a desperate attempt to be noticed by the camera! The camera zooms around the arena, but, since focusing on signs is *so* 2003, the mass of bodies and cardboard is just a blur before the camera finally focuses on the two men who call it like it is, Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley!

 

“Welcome back to SWF Lockdown, citizens!” greets the superhero, “and we hope you all had a happy and healthy holiday, because I know we did! How was your Christmas, Bobbo?”

 

“Hey, I got everything I wanted; Ejiro is the Champ, baby! Plus, I uh, got some random socks and some new thing called a Betamax. Sounds pretty cool.”

 

“Indeed, Bobby! I realize that you don’t have the common courtesy to ask how *my* holiday was, so we’ll skip that and get right into this next match!”

 

“That’s right, Comet! At our holiday pay-per-view, Charlie Matthews did the unthinkable and defeated Dace Night in a Texas Deathmatch to become the rightful Intercontinental-Television Champion! And, well, Linchpin defeated Johnny Dangerous for the United States Championship last month, but he’s a crook…he doesn’t deserve any so-called ‘props’!”

 

“Bobby, give credit where it’s due. Linchpin has only been around for a little over a month, and he’s already captured the US Title! I think this ex-villain has a bright future, and it could get brighter tonight! These two men are both defending their titles…one man will walk out with a double yield, and the other will go home empty handed! Let’s go to Funyon for the introductions!”

 

The camera pans over to the ring as Funyon begins his introduction. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for BOTH the S – W – F United States and Intercontinental-Television Championships!”

 

As those words leave Funyon’s mouth, the lights in the United Center shut down and Metallica’s “Some Kind of Monster” kicks in, signaling the entrance of the ICTV Champ! Matthews, with Matheson in tow, is lead down to the ring by a single spotlight, as he completely ignores the fans’ degrading cries and focuses intently on the ring.

 

“Introducing first, being accompanied by ‘Mister 2004’ James Matheson, from Kansas City, Missouri, weighing in at 301 pounds, this is the SWF Intercontinental-Television Champion, CHAAAAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MAAAATTHEWSSSS!!!!!!”

 

Once he reaches ringside, Charlie marches up the steps and enters the ring between the ropes as Matheson takes his spot at ringside. As he does, “The Way You Like It” by Adema plays and the house lights pulse with the beat of the music. The US Champ steps out onto the ramp, to a HUGE hometown ovation from the Chicago fans! Linchpin nods to the beat of the song as he coolly walks to the ring. As he walks up the steps, he removes his jacket and places it on the ring post before stepping into the ring.

 

“Introducing next, his opponent! From RIGHT HERE in CHI – TOWN, ILLIONOIIIIIIS, weighing in at 245 pounds, this is the S – W – F UNITED STATES CHAMPION, LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINCHPIIIIIIIIIIN!!!!”

 

The Chicagoans roar at the sight and the announcing of their hometown hero/convict, and the US Champ simply smiles and nods to the fans in the United Center. Referee Nick Soapdish collects both title belts and hoists them into the air, and then shows them to both Linchpin and Charlie Matthews, who stare at them and nod. Finally, Soapdish hands the belts to the timekeeper and signal for the bell to begin the match!

 

*DING DING DING*

 

Linchpin and Matthews both walk to the center of the ring, with just inches separating the two. Grappler begins grinning, and then lifts one arm into the air, calling for a test of strength with his smaller adversary. Linchpin looks up at the ICTV Champ, thinks this preposition over for a second…and then rears back, bringing his arm around and slapping the taste out of Charlie’s mouth!

 

*SMACK!*

 

“OOOOH!”

 

The force of the blow, combined with the element of surprise, causes the ICTV Champion to stagger backwards a few feet, as the fans roar in delight! The criminal continues his assault charge by running at Grappler and lifting his knee up, right into Matthews’ gut! This causes Charlie to double over, and Linchpin shoves him into the corner, where he begins unloading with hard punches, attacking Grappler’s face, chest, and stomach!

 

“This man really IS a criminal!” cries Riley, “he’s using everything – INCLUDING the kitchen sink – to get an illegal advantage on the real man’s champion, Charlie Matthews! Soapdish, those are closed-fist punches, you idiot!”

 

“Whatever you say, Bobbo,” replies Comet, “but the element of surprise is really working in Citizen Pin’s favor. He is giving up four inches and nearly sixty pounds, yet he has the ICTV Champion right where he wants him!”

 

After a flurry of punches, the United States Champion finally releases Charlie out of the corner, but the big man simply flops down, hitting the mat flat on his face! The Chicagoans roar at this sight, and a chant for their hometown man begins to resound throughout the arena.

 

“LET’S – GO – LINCH – PIN!”

*clap – clap – clap clap clap*

 

Sensing a quick opportunity, the US Champ sits out, dropping his leg down across the neck of the fallen Matthews! With that, he rolls the big man over and covers him, as Nick Soapdish counts!

 

“ONE!”

 

 

…Matthews kicks out WITH AUTHORITY, pressing Linchpin right off of him and onto the mat. Grappler brings himself up to his feet, and walks over to his opponent. He begins lifting him up, but once on his knees, the criminal mastermind sends his head right into Charlie’s gut, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to double over in pain!

 

“You have to love the offense of Linchpin,” begins Comet, “because it looks simple, and it may not be the most devastating, but it’s *practical*. It catches his opponent off guard and opens him up to a big advantage.”

 

“I don’t love it,” snipes Riley.

 

“Well, that’s impossible, Bobbo. You have to, I just said so.”

 

Seamlessly, Linchpin grabs the ICTV Titleholder in a tight front facelock, while grabbing a hold of his tights. From there, Linchpin quickly lifts Charlie up and arches back, flipping Matthews over and slamming him down with a snap suplex! Linchpin keeps the front facelock on as he rolls over onto his stomach, rising to his feet again. In the same fluid motion, Linchpin brings Grappler over again with another snap suplex! The crowd begins to buzz louder and louder as Linchpin rolls to his stomach again with the facelock still on, rising to his feet, but this time, Charlie is able to slam a knee into the abdomen of the US Champion, finally breaking free of his iron grip.

 

“Now I’ll show you how it’s REALLY done, boy!”

 

Grappler audibly mouths off to Linchpin, drawing the ire of the Chicago fans. Matthews ignores this and wraps in his own front facelock on the US Champ, before hoisting him upside down into the air and holding him in that position. Five seconds……ten seconds……and then he falls back, dropping Linchpin HARD onto the canvas with a beautiful vertical suplex!

 

“See, isn’t Charlie Matthews just the consummate professional?” asks Riley, confidently, “I mean, first he takes control of this match, and he also takes the time to teach a criminal how to properly perform a suplex! He’s great!”

 

“I’m just shocked at the fact that it took this long for Charlie Matthews to get any offense in,” notes Comet, “usually he comes out of the gates swinging!”

 

Just as Linchpin did earlier, Matthews keeps the facelock on and rolls to his stomach, but instead of getting up, he simply remains in that position, grinding on the front facelock. Grappler utilizes this brutal submission hold to its fullest extent, squeezing as hard as he can while Linchpin struggles to escape. Linchpin’s hometown crowd comes alive again, starting another “LET’S – GO – LINCH – PIN!” chant. Matthews keeps one arm tight around Linchpin’s neck, and, with Nick Soapdish checking on his opponent, Grappler sneaks his other arm up and he grabs a hold of the second rope for extra leverage! Linchpin begins struggling even more now, and the United Center boos the obvious act of cheating. Finally, Nick Soapdish lifts his head up…just to see Charlie taking his hand off the rope! Soapdish notices the rope shaking, and begins questioning the ICTV Champion. This minor distraction opens up a door for the US Champ, as he finally shifts his weight around, rolling both Grappler and himself onto their backs. From there, Linchpin rolls backward, since Charlie still has the facelock on, and lands right on top of Grappler in a mounted position!

 

“What a counter!” commends Comet, “Linchpin was able to escape the deadly front facelock with the help of these thousands of Linchpin supporters! He’s feeding off of every single one of these Chicagoans’ energy!”

 

“Of course,” shoots Riley, “you ignore the fact that it took a referee distraction for Linchpin to reverse the hold. Nick Soapdish just gets in the way far too much.”

 

With the tide turned, Linchpin begins laying in hard lefts and rights to the pretty face of Grappler, not letting up until Nick Soapdish pulls him off, much to the chagrin of the crowd. Grappler slowly pulls himself up, using the ropes, and once he reaches his feet, Linchpin charges at his adversary. Matthews expects this, though, and bends down, using the US Champ’s momentum to flip him over the ropes and onto the floor below!

 

…or so he thinks. The Chicago crowd cheers with delight as Linchpin uses his agility to land with both feet on the apron behind Charlie, unbeknownst to him! Matthews walks to the middle of the ring, where he stops to have a breather. However, James Matheson frantically runs to the side of the ring facing Grappler and wildly signals to look behind him. Matthews obliges, and, seeing Linchpin, he blindly charges. Welcome to Telegraph City. As Charlie approaches, Linchpin easily drops down, bringing the top rope down with him, sending Grappler over the top rope and tumbling all the way down to the arena floor!

 

“Brilliant strategy by Linchpin!” notes Comet, “As he used Matthews’ momentum against him. Now they’re going to be fighting right alongside Linchpin’s hometown fans!”

 

“Linchpin Linchpin Linchpin,” croons Riley, “for god’s sake, would you STOP talking about him so much, just because it’s his hometown? Let’s talk about Charlie Matthews for a second!”

 

“Umm, Bobbo, Charlie Matthews has hardly had any offense in this match at all! It’s been all Linchpin!”

 

The US Champion drops down onto the floor with Matthews, as referee Nick Soapdish begins the ten count.

 

“ONE!”

 

Linchpin begins raining down hard stomps on Grappler, focusing on the neck and upper back.

 

“TWO!”

 

With the undivided support of the crowd, Linchpin brings the ICTV Champion to his feet…

 

“THREE!”

 

…and slams his head into the nearby guardrail! Charlie staggers back from the impact of the blow.

 

“FOUR!”

 

However, Linchpin stays on him, scooping him up onto his shoulder and then dropping him sternum-first onto the guardrail!

 

“FIVE!”

 

Matthews falls back onto the ground, holding his sternum in pain. Linchpin, meanwhile, rolls back into the ring, breaking Soapdish’s ten count, before rolling back out to inflict more punishment. The champion of the United States bends down to bring Grappler up…but with Nick Soapdish in the ring, Matthews is able to shoot his arm up and sock Linchpin right in the testicles!

 

*CHING!*

 

“OOOOH!”

 

“ONE!”

 

The ‘one’, of course, isn’t Nick Soapdish telling the fans how many testicles Linchpin has left, but is only the restart of his ten count. With Linchpin now in a precarious position, Matthews rises to his feet and sends a clubbing forearm blow down across his opponent’s back.

 

“TWO!”

 

“Think you can steal this from me, huh?!” growls Matthews as he stands Linchpin up, before positioning him belly-to-back style.

 

“THREE!”

 

Grappler ducks under Linchpin’s arm and hoists him into the air, before dropping him down, crotch-first, onto the guardrail!

 

“FOUR!”

 

The US Champ hollers in pain as his goods are damaged further. Matthews, satisfied, rolls back into the ring.

 

“I have to question Matthews’ game plan,” adds Comet, “because if Linchpin is counted out, Grappler wins, but the United States Championship doesn’t change hands.”

 

“FIVE!”

 

“Oh, who needs the US Title anyway?” snipes Riley, “Matthews is just doing what he has to do to hold onto HIS Intercontinental-Television Title.”

 

“SIX!”

 

“Bobbo, you’re supposed to put the titles OVER.”

 

While Grappler rests against a turnbuckle in the ring, Linchpin finally rolls off of his tender position on the guardrail and falls onto the ground. Slowly, he reaches his knees.

 

“SEVEN!”

 

The US Champ crawls, and reaches the apron…

 

“EIGHT!”

 

…before James Matheson runs at Linchpin! The criminal sidesteps the lunatic, and Matheson goes sailing into the ring steps.

 

“NINE!”

 

However, the distraction worked. Linchpin realizes this, and faster than the speed of light, reenters the ring just before Soapdish administers the ten count. With Linchpin face down on the mat, Matthews leaps at the opportunity – literally – by pouncing on Linchpin’s back and wrapping his left arm around his throat, while using his right hand to press against his forehead, executing the dreaded Sleeper Hold!

 

“Now tell me THAT isn’t brilliant strategy!” goads Riley, “What a perfect opportunity to take the match and the US Championship!”

 

“Bobby, he used two groin-centric moves and followed it up with a Sleeper,” replies Comet, “I hardly see-“

 

“IT’S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS,” interrupts Riley, smugly, “but hey, whatever it takes to win the match!”

 

This move was poorly planned and executed, however, because Linchpin is close to the ropes. So close, in fact, that he simply reaches his arm over and grabs a hold of the bottom rope, causing Charlie Matthews to reluctantly break the hold! The fans roar at Grappler’s stupidity, but he stays right on Linchpin, attacking him viciously with stomps. Matthews brings the US Champ to his feet and grabs his arm, whipping him across the ring to the opposite ropes. Linchpin rebounds and returns, as Charlie wildly swings his arm looking for a clothesline, but the criminal ducks under the blow, and before Matthews even realizes what happened, Linchpin hits the opposite ropes and comes up behind him. With that, Linchpin shoots his legs out downward and nails Grappler in the knees with a basement dropkick. Charlie drops to his knees, and the Chicagoans roar in anticipation, as Matthews is in position for the Omerta! Linchpin charges to the other ropes and bounces back, and once he reaches the point he steps onto Matthews’ knee and launches up, swinging his own leg around…

 

…but Grappler rolls out of the way! Linchpin hits nothing as Grappler reaches safety. Both men reach their feet, and as Linchpin turns to face his opponent, he sees him charging at full speed. Before Linchpin can dodge, Matthews leaps into the air and lifts his knee, smashing it right into the US Champion’s face! The force knocks Linchpin against the ropes, and before he can fall, Charlie ducks under his arm and grabs a leg, hoisting him up into the air. Grappler holds him in this torture rack position for a few seconds, smirking at the fans before falling back, dropping Linchpin to the mat with the Judgment Slam! Without hesitating, Matthews floats over into a cover on his opponent, and Nick Soapdish counts!

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

“THR – NO!”

 

Linchpin gets a shoulder up as the fans erupt in cheers!

 

“And now is the time,” begins Comet, “where pins become extremely important. They can help greatly in wearing down your opponent, even people like Linchpin and Citizen Matthews, who both are extremely vital.”

 

“Well, I think it’s just pissing Grappler off,” replies Riley, “he basically sees Linchpin as a nobody, and I think that’s going to bite him in the ass later.”

 

Frustrated, Charlie brings Linchpin up to his feet and immediately positions him in a standing headscissors. The United Center goes from cheers to jeers as Matthews lifts his arms above his head, signaling for his signature Powerbomb! He reaches down under Linchpin and flips him up onto his shoulders, before slamming him…but no, Linchpin’s quickness allows him to remove his legs from Matthews’ shoulders and land safely on the mat. Fluidly, he leaps into the air and flips around, sending his heel right into Charlie’s temple! Matthews drops to the mat, holding his head. Now Linchpin is the aggressor, as he slowly brings Grappler up and wraps in a tight front facelock. He then grabs a hold of Matthews’ tights and hoists him upside down into the air, before slowly releasing…and dropping him right on his head with a brainbuster!

 

“LET’S – GO – LINCH – PIN!”

 

This time Linchpin dives onto Grappler with a cover, as the entire United Center counts along in unison!

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEE-NO!!!!”

 

 

Matthews shoots his shoulder off the canvas as James Matheson breathes a sigh of relief from ringside, wiping the sweat off his brow. Linchpin doesn’t sweat (figuratively, of course) it, but once he sees Grappler start to get up, he notices that he is on his knees! Linchpin grins as the fans begin to buzz, and Linchpin runs towards the ropes to once again attempt the Omerta! He hits the ropes, and all of his energy and speed…is stopped, as James Matheson reaches under the bottom rope and grabs his ankle! The US Champion turns around at the distraction and as Matheson tries to beg off, Linchpin simply grabs onto the top rope and pulls back, before slingshotting his body over the top rope and onto Matheson! Both men spill onto the floor as the fans hit a fever pitch for their hometown boy!

 

“Unbelievable!” cries Comet, “Linchpin was distracted by that dastardly James Matheson, but made the best of the situation by taking him OUT of this match with a beautiful bodypress!”

 

“The best of the situation?” questions Riley, “the distraction WORKED. It did exactly what James Matheson wanted it to do; give Grappler, the guy in the ring that COUNTS, time to recover and avoid Linchpin’s signature finishing maneuver!”

 

“I’m shocked, Robert…that actually sounded well thought out!”

 

After soaking up the cheers of the fans, Linchpin climbs back onto the apron…

 

*BOOM!*

 

…only to have Matthews run forward and drive his boot right into his face! The force sends Linchpin sailing back down, colliding with the guardrail outside of the ring! Matthews growls “Count him out!” to Nick Soapdish, and he obliges.

 

“ONE!”

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

“THREE!”

 

Linchpin finally begins to move, as he checks to make sure the right side of his body is still functioning.

 

”FOUR!”

 

 

The US Champ rises up to his feet, with the help of the guardrail, and shakes the cobwebs out.

 

 

“FIVE!”

 

 

“SIX!”

 

Finally, he walks towards the apron, and grabs a hold of it.

 

“SEVEN!”

 

And with that, Linchpin slides back into the ring. Bad move, though. Charlie Matthews is RIGHT THERE waiting for Linchpin, as he sits out and drops his leg across the back of his opponent’s neck! The force stops the US Champ cold, and Matthews picks him up before once again placing him in a standing headscissors. Quicker this time, Grappler hoists Linchpin up onto his shoulders…and POWERS HIM DOWN TO THE MAT ON HIS NECK!

 

“THE POWERBOMB!” cries Riley, “That’s IT! It came out of NOWHERE, and it’s spelling imminent DOOM for Linchpin and the United States CHAMPIONSHIP for Matthews!”

 

Nick Soapdish drops to the mat and begins counting as soon as Charlie drops down on top of Linchpin, hooking a leg.

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

“TWOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

 

 

“NO! SHOULDER UP!”

 

The United Center comes BACK ALIVE as Linchpin kicks out of the dreaded Powerbomb!

 

“Linchpin does the impossible!” cheers Comet, “I’ve seen VERY few people kick out of that Powerbomb, and I bet Citizen Matthews is just KICKING himself right now at that very fact!”

 

While he isn’t quite kicking himself, Grappler is still in SHOCK as he sees Soapdish holding up only two fingers. Matthews gets to his feet, slower now, as the match is starting to wear on his body, and brings Linchpin up. He ducks down and hoists him across his shoulders, holding him in a fireman’s carry. From there, Grappler begins wildly spinning around, sending Linchpin on the merry – go – round from hell known as the airplane spin! Grappler reaches two…five…eight…and as he goes for his tenth spin, Linchpin, unbelievably, is able to drop his torso behind Matthews and fall down, grabbing his legs on the way down and flipping him right over with a sunset flip! The United Center ROCKS with delight as Soapdish counts again!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

“TWOOOO!!!!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE – NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

Grappler rolls backwards off his shoulders to avoid the pin, and continues rolling all the way out of the ring to avoid any further contact for the moment!

 

“Would you look at that!” notes Comet, “Matthews was doing everything he could to DESTROY Linchpin, and it almost cost him as Linchpin nearly picked up the upset with a surprise sunset flip!”

 

“I hate to admit it,” groans Riley, “but Matthews doesn’t seem to be on his game tonight. He’s making a lot of mistakes, and it might cost him.”

 

Grappler takes a short stroll around the ring, regaining his bearings. Unfortunately for him, this also gives Linchpin time to recover, and he is standing in the ring as Matthews climbs back onto the apron and reenters. Linchpin carpes the Diem and rushes at the ICTV Champion, swinging his leg around for a big leg lariat, but Matthews coolly sidesteps it as Linchpin crashes to the mat. Charlie easily lifts Linchpin up and grabs his arm, whipping him across the ring to the other side. As Linchpin comes back, Matthews runs forward with his shoulder down, looking for a tackle. However, the speedy US Champ sees this and, using his momentum, performs a somersault, rolling right off of Matthews’ back and landing behind him. As Grappler turns around, Linchpin sends a hard punch right into his face and kicks him in the gut. With Matthews doubled over, Linchpin traps him in a standing headscissors and reaches under his body, holding him vertically for a piledriver! The US Champion begins to sit out, before Charlie is able to shift his weight and drop down, back onto his feet! From there, he stands up, flipping Linchpin up and over with a back body drop…but Linchpin holds onto Grappler’s legs, looking to bring him over for another sunset flip, but this time Matthews simply drops down, hooking Linchpin’s legs with another reversal into a pin as Nick Soapdish counts!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

“TWOOOOOOO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!”

 

 

The roar for Linchpin resounds throughout the United Center as the smooth criminal is able to escape the pin yet again!

 

“And this match is becoming as exciting as ever!” commends Comet, “two men fighting for two of the most prestigious championships in the business, in a truth-and-nail battle for tooth and justice!”

 

“…that’s just awful,” snipes Riley.

 

Grappler begins uncontrollably pounding the mat with frustration, shouting at Nick Soapdish to ‘do his job and count the pin’. Matthews bends over to pick Linchpin up-

 

*SMACK!*

 

-and he’s met with a HARD slap to the face! The fans rejoice as Charlie stumbles backwards. In fact, the blow was so hard that Charlie bit his tongue, and blood begins seeping from his mouth! “Son of a BITCH!” Matthews cries as he stalks Linchpin, but the speedy champion picks himself up and is able to scissor Matthews’ ankle, taking him down to the mat. Linchpin immediately mounts Charlie’s back and showers him with punches to the back of the head, the buzz in the arena growing with each swing. Finally, Linchpin gets off of the ICTV Champion, and retreats to a corner, yelling at Matthews to get up. Grappler wearily obliges, and turns around, only to see Linchpin charge out of the corner and leap up at him…but Charlie catches him out of the air, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist! With the dreaded Bearhug latched in, the United Center immediately breaks into its favorite chant.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOORING!”

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOORING!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOORING!”

 

Linchpin will have none of this, however, and he begins wailing on Grappler with hard lefts and rights to the head! Charlie tries to shake it off, but the force is too powerful. Thinking fast, he tells Soapdish to check the match time. As he retreats to do that, Matthews puts Linchpin on his feet…and lifts his knee right into his groin!

 

*CHING!*

 

“OOOOOH!”

 

“Dastardly!” cries Comet, “that dastardly Grappler has been using every underhanded tactic in the book to gain an advantage!”

 

“Every?” questions Riley, “I’ve only seen him use low blows. You forgot eye rakes, tight pulling…”

 

“Okay, Bobbo, it was a slight exaggeration. But damn it, I’m exaggerating in anger!”

 

Linchpin crumples in Matthews’ arms from the force of the low blow, and the Chicagoans are none too happy. As Soapdish comes back into the match, Matthews charges towards the nearest corner and DRIVES Linchpin against the turnbuckle as hard as he can. With Linchpin woozy in the corner, Grappler kicks him hard in the gut to double him over, and then turns around towards the opposite corner, placing his opponent in a standing headscissors. Matthews bellows, “THIS is how you do it!” before reaching down and flipping Linchpin up onto his shoulder. From there, he charges towards the opposite corner, and once he gets three-quarters across the ring, he hurls Linchpin off his shoulder!

 

*BOOM!*

 

Linchpin lands HARD, his entire neck and back colliding with the evil turnbuckle! The US Champ simply slides down to the mat as Grappler looks on, satisfied. He drags Linchpin by the leg out of the corner and into the center of the ring, where he drops down and covers him. The United Center begins jeering louder and louder, but then decides to try and fuel their hero by chanting his name while Soapdish begins his count.

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

“LET’S – GO – LINCH – PIN!”

 

 

 

“TWOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

 

 

“LET’S – GO – LINCH – PIN!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

”THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

 

 

 

*DING DING DING*

 

The crowd sits in shock as Metallica’s “Some Kind of Monster” kicks in. It’s the music they never wanted to hear as the match ended. Charlie Matthews: double champion. Linchpin: hometown hero, empty handed.

 

“LAAAAAAAAADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” bellows Funyon, “THE WINNER OF THIS CONTEST, STILL SWF INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPION, AAAAAAND NEEEEEEEEEEEW SWF UNITED STATES CHAMPION, CHAAAAAAAAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MAAAAAAAAATTHEWSSSSSSSS!!!”

 

“This is unbelievable!” says Comet, “the force of the Powerbomb into the corner…unbelievable! The fact that Charlie Matthews now holds two titles… it’s unbelievable!”

 

“Unbelievable, but WONDERFUL,” replies Riley, “Charlie Matthews finally gets his DUE. The hardest working man in the company besides Ejiro Fasaki is now the Champion of television, fifty states, and across all the continents of the world. This is wonderful!”

 

Grappler drops to his knees in celebration, tears dripping down his face as Soapdish hands him both the ICTV and US Titles. James Matheson, freshly recovered, leaps into the ring and hugs his meal ticket, congratulating him on a fantastic win. Both men exit the ring, title belts held high. Linchpin, however, stays in the ring. Nick Soapdish checks on him, but he waves it off, and climbs to his feet on his own accord. He stands in the middle of the ring, looking out at his native Chicagoans. At first there is nothing.

 

And then there is clapping. Cheering, clapping, and whistling…a standing ovation for a hometown wrestler. Linchpin looks out to the fans and nods, before exiting the ring.

 

“And that’s what it’s all about,” says Comet, misty-eyed, “Linchpin gave his all in front of his hometown, and just came up short. While the fans may be disappointed, they appreciate his effort.”

 

“I can’t help but think of the hokey pokey when you say that,” snipes Riley, “and plebians, there’s still MUCH more to come on SWF Lockdown! The MVS returns against the Thugg! Ejiro Fasaki, our World’s Champion, defends against Danny Williams! It all comes to a head when Lockdown returns from this commercial!”

[Kaertos 0]

“Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen,” says Cyclone Comet. “You know, it was only a couple of months ago, at Ashes 2 Ashes, that Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous found themselves on the same side of a match for the first time in what seemed like forever!”

 

“And what glorious days those were, Comet,” adds Bobby Riley. “Those two pretty boys were so much more enjoyable when they were trying to tear each other apart! I couldn’t stand them when they were working together before, and I can’t stand them right now!”

 

“Be that as it may,” replies Comet, “Wild and Dangerous has re-formed, and have dedicated themselves to becoming SWF Tag Team Champions, but before they can do that, they first have to get past Terrence Bailey and Dace Night, two-thirds of the Unholy Trinity!”

 

“Neither of these teams deserve a shot at Justice and Rule,” spits Riley. “The only satisfactory outcome would be if Thoth has explosives rigged underneath the ring, and detonates it while all four of them are in there!”

 

Comet shakes his head. “Assuming that doesn’t happen, Robert, who do you think has the best chance of coming away with the victory tonight?”

 

“Well,” replies Riley, “as much as I dislike both of these teams, I’m going to go with the Trinity. Even though they only won the Tag Titles before because Va’aiga was carrying Dace’s sorry ass, the fact is that at least one them knows what it takes to win a big match, something that Wild and Dangerous has yet to claim to. Dace Night is a former ICTV Champion as well as a former Tag Team Champion, and Janus is now a multiple-time Hardcore Champion. Plus, this is a Tornado Tag, with Hardcore Rules; I don’t see those two pretty boys being able to go toe-to-toe with the Trinity in a match like this.”

 

“Citizens Night and Bailey may indeed be a more accomplished team,” says Comet, “but they’re not more accomplished *AS* a team. I’d go so far as to say that, against a team like Wild and Dangerous, the Trinity’s margin for error is going to be very small tonight.”

 

Bobby looks confused. “Margin for error?”

 

Comet nods in response. “Precisely. Wild and Dangerous are tag team specialists, and as they proved at A2A, they still communicate with each other very well. They strike fast and often, but most importantly, they strike together as one. You’d best believe that, if one member of the Trinity loses track of his man for even a second, the other member is getting double-teamed.”

 

Riley rolls his eyes. “I think that you’re putting entirely too much faith in their ability to even get one of those guys alone to try and double-team them.”

 

Before the two broadcasters can continue their debate, however, the lights in the arena dim ever so slightly, and smoke begins to billow from the entranceway beneath the SmarkTron. Red laser beams pierce the thick smoke and the crowd begins to cheer in anticipation of the Trinity.

 

“Blind man ask me forgiveness

I won't deny myself

Disrespect you have given

Your suffering's my wealth

I feed off pain, force-fed to love it

And now I swallow whole

I'll never live in the past…”

 

 

“LET FREEDOM RING WITH A SHOTGUN BLAST!”

 

 

BOOOM!

 

 

The stage explodes with a pyrotechnic burst as the erratic, brutal sound of Machinehead’s “Davidian” begins to blare throughout the arena. The lasers illuminate two massive silhouettes as Dace and Terrence step through the smoke and onto the stage.

 

 

TRIN-I-TY!

TRIN-I-TY!

TRIN-I-TY!

TRIN-I-TY!

 

 

From inside the ring, Funyon raises the microphone to his lips to begin his introductions. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a No Disqualification, Falls Count Anywhere, Tornado Tag Team Match, and it is scheduled for one fall, with the winners becoming the Number One Contenders to the Tag Team Titles! Making their way to the ring at this time, at a total combined weight of six hundred twelve pounds… first, the High Priest of Horrorcore, Dace…”

 

 

FUCKING!

 

 

“… Night,” continues Funyon. “His tag team partner, the SWF Hardcore Champion, The ‘Anti-Heel Machine,’ Terrence “Janus” Bailey. Together, they make up two-thirds of the UNHOOOOOLY TUUUUH-RINITY!” Terrence and Dace acknowledge the fans as they make their way towards the ring, where they walk up the steel stairs and step between the ropes and into the ring. Dace walks towards the edge of the ring, raising his right arm above his head and throwing the metal “horns” to the crowd as Terrence walks towards the opposite side of the ring, and holds the Hardcore Title high into the air as the crowd cheer them on.

 

As the unseen stage crew works hard to rapidly clear the stage area of smoke, the camera shifts focus to our faithful announcers, as they make their final pre-match observations. “As much as I can’t stand these guys,” says Riley, “you have to admit that they look focused and prepared for this match, Comet. I just can’t see that there’s any chance that the two flyboys will be able to compete tonight!”

 

“I’ll grant you that the Trinity does indeed look prepared, Robert,” concedes Comet. “They have proven in the past that they are worthy contenders to ANY title, and with a leader of the caliber of Danny Williams, there’s no question that they came into this match with a very solid game plan. But, I hope that they’re prepared to be flexible, because with a team like Wild and Dangerous, game plans tend to go out the window in a hurry; these two young men are so unorthodox, and so unpredictable, that they can turn a well thought out game plan on its ear!”

 

Terrence hands his Hardcore Title over to the referee as “Davidian” fades out. The Trinity meet in their corner to discuss strategy, but attempts to converse quickly become difficult as the up-tempo rhythm and throbbing bassline of Method Man and Redman’s “Y.O.U.” bring the crowd out of their seats once again, cheering emphatically as the newly-reformed Wild and Dangerous make their way out onto the stage.

 

“Their opponents,” says Funyon, “at a total combined weight of four hundred thirty one pounds… WILD! AAAAAAAAAAND DAAAAANGEROUS!” Wild and Dangerous trot down the ramp, slapping hands with the fans clamoring around the barricade as they approach ringside, and take a quick lap around the ring to greet the fans surrounding the ring before rolling into the ring, popping to their feet and racing towards the corners, leaping onto the turnbuckles as they pose excitedly.

 

“The fans are going crazy for Wild and Dangerous here tonight,” notes Comet. “They are being very receptive to the youngsters at ringside, and these fans are reciprocating their enthusiasm! It’s contagious, Robert!”

 

“They have medication for that, you know,” Bobby replies coolly. “And it’s all well and good for Wild and Dangerous to have so much fan support, but these fans can’t win the match for you; they still have to get in there and do it themselves!”

 

Wild and Dangerous hop down from the turnbuckles as Funyon exits to his ringside seat, and walk across the ring to briefly shake hands with Terrence and Dace as their music fades out. The referee leans over the edge of the ring and signals the timekeeper to officially start the match.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Wildchild squares off against Dace as Johnny lines up with the massive Terrence. All four men appear to be tentative until Dace attempts to take the initiative, lunging towards Wildchild to engage in a tie-up, but the Bahama Bomber deftly sidesteps him and proceeds to pepper him with quick right hands!

 

 

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

 

Dace spins back around to retaliate, but Wildchild ducks behind him and wraps both arms around his waist, while simultaneously slashing his foot out at the base of the Dace’s ankle, enabling him to surprise the Brummie Goth with a waistlock takedown.

 

WHAM!

 

Before Horrorcore can even react, Wildchild leaps into the air and crashes onto his back with a Senton back splash! Quickly to his feet, the Human Hurricane dashes towards the ropes, building even more momentum as he bounces off and dives feet-first towards Dace…

 

BANG!

 

… Smashing him in the face with a running dropkick that sends him tumbling towards the edge of the ring!

 

“The action is moving faster than I can call it,” says Comet, “as Wildchild gets off to an explosive start!”

 

Across the ring, Johnny is hammering Bailey with quick right hands as well, but the Aussie Giant isn’t even fazed, grinning as his eyes dance amusedly, inviting Johnny to keep hitting him. Slightly unnerved by Terrence’s silent confidence, Johnny attempts to persevere, nevertheless…

 

BAM!

 

 

… Only to be dropped courtesy of a massive head BUTT by the Anti-Heel Machine. Johnny buckles to one knee, suddenly seeing stars…

 

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

…. As back on the other side of the ring, Wildchild charges towards Dace as he starts to get to his feet, and whips his leg suddenly through the air, blasting Horrorcore over the top rope and outside the ring with a leg lariat!

 

His attention diverted by the plight of his partner, Terrence starts to turn towards Wildchild, only to be stopped by Johnny, who has recovered remarkably quickly, and grabs the Aussie Giant by the shoulder, spinning him back around. The Secret Agent thrusts his foot up suddenly, stunning Bailey with a kick to the midsection…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And, as the massive Aussie is doubled over, Wildchild sneaks up behind him and springs into action, snaring Terrence by the head as he flings himself through the air, and planting him face-first into the canvas with a flipping neck snap!

 

“Whiplash,” relays Comet. “Wild and Dangerous are off to a hot start! They’ve already started double-teaming, and that could spell bad news for the Trinity!”

 

Wild and Dangerous pull Terrence up off the mat as Dace uses the ring apron to pull himself to his feet outside the ring, and back the Aussie Giant up against the far ropes. They hammer him simultaneously and each grab a wrist, whipping him across the ring as Dace finally manages to make it to the apron…

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

…And cause the two Trinity members to collide with each other, Bailey’s impact sending Dace back down to the arena floor! Terrence looks apologetically outside the ring towards his fallen partner…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Giving Wild and Dangerous the break they need to surprise Bailey from behind, knocking him over the top rope and out of the ring with a double-dropkick to the back! Wild and Dangerous bounce around the ring excitedly as the fans begin to cheer for them!

 

 

“By Hermes’ winged sandals,” exclaims Comet, “these guys aren’t just quick, they’re sudden! You can’t take your eyes off them, even for a second!”

 

“It’s working to their advantage so far,” says Riley, “but the longer this match goes, the more it favors the Trinity.”

 

Johnny and Wildchild have a brief conference at the edge of the ring as Dace gets back to his feet out on the arena floor. The Dangerous One grabs onto the top rope and flings himself out of the ring and down onto his opponent, but Horrorcore snatches him out of the air with ease. He turns towards the corner, fully intent on driving Johnny’s back into the ringpost…

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… But the Caribbean Cruiser appears on the top turnbuckle from seemingly out of nowhere, and fearlessly dives out of the ring, tumbling through the air as he collides with his partner, their combined weight forcing the Hardcore Goth back down to the floor!

 

“You have GOT to keep your head on a swivel when you’re wrestling against Wild and Dangerous,” says Comet. “If the right one doesn’t get you, the left one will!”

 

Wildchild and Johnny recover quickly, pulling Dace off the floor together. They each take position besides Horrorcore and lace their inside legs with his as the wrap their arms around his head. They then jerk their bodies back suddenly…

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Slamming the Brummie Goth into the padded floor once more with a double Russian leg sweep!

 

 

“Double neckbreaker by Wild and Dangerous,” reports Comet. “And a double nip-up!”

 

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

However, no sooner do Wild and Dangerous nip back up to their feet than the Anti-Heel Machine catches them both by surprise, knocking them for a loop with a double lariat!

 

“Looks like Janus has had enough of that double-teaming,” says Riley mirthfully. “Now we’ll see whether or not Wild and Dangerous have what it takes to overcome adversity!”

 

BANG!

 

Terrence grabs Johnny by the wrist and whips him across the ringside area, sending him crashing into the steel stairs! He stalks over towards the Dangerous One, delivering a stiff kick for good measure, before turning his attention back to the Wildchild. The Caribbean Cruiser shakes the cobwebs out of his head as the Aussie Giant beats a deliberate path towards him, and manages to tumble out of the way towards the ramp just in time to avoid him.

 

Rolling to his feet before Terrence can turn around, Wildchild hops into the air and takes the Anti-Heel Machine down with a sudden dropkick to the knee! The Human Hurricane rushes towards the kneeling giant and leaps onto his massive back, using it as a springboard to lunge back into the ring, and recovers quickly, scrambling to his feet as Terrence stands up outside the ring. Wildchild races towards the opposite edge of the ring and bounces off the ropes, building momentum as he sprints back towards Bailey, diving feet-first before the Hardcore Champion can react…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And blasting him in the face with a baseball slide! The Tropical Tumbler rolls over onto his stomach and pushes himself up to his feet, unaware that Dace has recovered back outside the ring, and is scouring underneath the ring for some sort of weapon. Wildchild walks back over towards the edge of the ring to assess the damage done to Terrence…

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

… When the Hardcore Goth catches him by surprise with a Kendo stick, smashing him in the face and sending him stumbling back into the center of the ring!

 

 

“Oh my,” shouts Comet. “Horrorcore’s got a hold of a Kendo stick! Business is about to pick up!”

 

Dace climbs back into the ring as Wildchild continues to regain his bearings and suddenly charges towards him, Kendo stick still in hand, seeking to capitalize on his opportunity try to end the match quickly with a big move. He lifts his leg sharply into the air, looking to take Wildchild out with a Yakuza Kick, but the Bahama Bomber recovers just in time to duck underneath the potential finisher and race behind him towards the ropes. He bounces off the ropes and leaps into the air to attack Dace with a flying attack…

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

… But Horrorcore spins around and swings the Kendo stick mightily, smashing Wildchild right between the eyes and sending him crumpling down to the mat! Dace drops to his knees and rolls Wildchild onto his back, hooking the leg as the referee drops into position to count the pinfall:

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE—

 

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

 

 

“Oh my goodness,” says Comet. “That was very nearly it!”

 

Looking towards the referee, Dace holds up three fingers, but the ref calmly shakes his head no and counters with two fingers of his own. Horrorcore lets out a grunt of frustration as he gets back to his feet, and reaches out for a lock of the stubborn Bahama Bomber’s hair, jerking him to his feet and eliciting a shrill cry of pain from the Wildchild’s lips!

 

Determined to put his former ally down for good, Dace bends Wildchild over at the waist and locks his hands underneath the Caribbean’s midsection, jerking him up off the canvas and slinging him up over his shoulder.

 

“BAH ZEUS,” cries Comet, while the crowds let out a tremendous cheer, instantly recognizing the move. “DARK STAR DRIVER! DARK STAR DRIVER!”

 

Dace hesitates uncharacteristically, pausing to soak in the crowd’s adulation, but he fails to even notice Johnny Dangerous perched atop a turnbuckle directly to his side! The Secret Agent quickly springs from the turnbuckle as Dace finally takes notice of his presence, but alas it is too late! The smile on the Brummie Goth’s face is turned on its ear, and all he can do is stand there and watch two extended feet sailing directly into his chest!

 

WHAM!!

 

“Drop Kick by Johnny Dangerous!”

 

Dace is instantly floored from the impact, and the Bahama Bomber is saved from any unruly carnage... for now at least.

 

“Johnny Dangerous may have just bought his team some much needed time there!” says Comet.

 

“But here comes trouble, Janus is on the prowl!”

 

 

KAAAA-RAAAAAACCCKK!!!!!!!

 

 

Johnny barely has the chance to scratch his ass before Terrence comes STORMING across the ring, decimating Johnny’s kisser with a horrifying Knuckle Bomb that knocks his teeth clear down his throat!

 

“Ooh,” cries Bobby. “And Johnny Dangerous goes flying over the top rope! He’s going to be tasting knuckles for the next two weeks!”

 

The Anti-Heel Machine hops down to the floor after Johnny, immediately seizing a nearby chair and then turning back towards his squirming prey. Being stunned completely out of his mind, all the Secret Agent can do is weakly watch as the steel chair comes crashing down into his skull!

 

CRACCKKKK!!!!!!

 

“Mph!” Comet winces as he watches the impact. “These two Trinity members are really taking advantage of this no disqualification environment.”

 

“As they should,” snaps Bobby. “The only way your going to win this match is by using the preset rules in your favor. Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous are just plain stupid for not grabbing a weapon the first chance they had, and because of it, this match is now a handicapped match for the Wildchild... which isn‘t all that new of a situation for him. He’s tagged with Johnny before if you’d recall.”

 

“I do recall,” replies Comet, “but lets not start all that Johnny’s-the-weak-link-being-carried-by-Wildchild crap again.”

 

“You said it, not me, Boyo.”

 

Back inside the ring, both Dace and Wildchild have regained control over their senses. The Bahama Bomber stands to his feet ready to re-engage the High Priest, but is much surprised to see Janus as well entering the ring with his partner no where to be found.

 

He takes a deep breath, then slowly exhales, and suddenly explodes off the mat towards Dace! Dace reaches out for the Tropical Tumbler for a tie-up, but Wildchild blows right past him, ducking his massive arms and hits the ropes directly behind him! Dace quickly pivots on one foot, and spins around with his fist leading the way, but is once again floored when Wildchild leaps into the air and slams into the High Priest with a cross body block!

 

WHAM!

 

Thirsty for action, the towering Aussie Giant races in towards Wildchild, but no sooner than he hits the mat does the Bahama Bomber spring back to his feet, anticipating the Anti-Heel Machine. Janus lets a low growl escape from his lips as he thrusts his massive fist towards its Carmel Colored Target, but Wildchild steps to the side, narrowly dodging the sure-to-be-devastating blow, and quickly slings the toe of his foot into Terrence’s gut! The move gains him about half a second, serving little more use than pissing Bailey off, but half a second is all the Caribbean Cruiser needs to haul ass across the ring, and so he does. Wildchild makes a break for the corner, but Janus gives chase... exactly what the Bahama Bomber was hoping for. Wildchild leaps onto the top of the turnbuckle in a single bound, then just as quickly jumps back off of it...

 

WHACK!!!

 

... And nails Terrence Bailey with a Sunset Flip that brings forth a mighty howl from the crowds, and drops the Unstoppable Giant straight to the mat! The Bahama Bomber holds his positing lying across Janus’ chest as the Referee drops to his knees to count the pin:

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

 

A loud cheer rings out as Janus thunders his shoulder off the mat, saving his team from defeat!

 

“By Odin’s beard,” shouts Comet, “that was nearly three! To say that I’m simply amazed at the effort Wildchild is putting out isn’t saying nearly enough!”

 

“Then say nothing at all,” adds Bobby. “I think someone needs to see how much crank Wildchild is smoking before he comes out here, because he is simply too fast!”

 

“That’s enough, Robert,” scolds Comet. “Wildchild was proven innocent, of ALL charges, and I’ll thank you to drop the subject immediately.”

 

Wildchild jumps back to his feet, but is just as quickly taken back down when Dace - seemingly forgotten about - slips in from behind and surprises him…

 

BAM!

 

… Spinning him around and slamming his fist straight into the Bahama Bomber’s gut! Wildchild turns away from Dace and stumbles across the ring, holding tightly to his midsection, but Horrorcore’s not done yet, as he takes a step forward…

 

CRACK!

 

… And SLAMS his knuckles straight into the back of Wildchild’s head! The Caribbean Cruiser is dropped to one knee, but the High Priest grabs onto his arm at the elbow, jerking him back to his feet, leads him forcefully across the ring, and casually flings him over the top rope...

 

... Or at least he tries to, for the Bahama Bomber digs deep and finds the wherewithal to reach out and grab onto the top rope, enabling him to pull himself to safety atop the outside ring apron. Janus - back to his feet - charges towards Wildchild like a raging bull, but the Tropical Tumbler quickly leaps onto the top rope, and bounds off of it for a hurricanrana! He wraps his legs around the Anti-Heel Machines head…

 

 

WHAAAAMM!!!!

 

… But before he can put his body into a spin Terrence grabs hold of him tightly, then turns and SLAMS the Bahama Bomber into the mat with a Power Bomb that almost shakes all the bolts loose from the ring’s foundation!

 

 

 

“Hot DAMN,” cries Bobby. “I think THAT will end Wildchild’s little one man show! He should have stuck to the double-team tactics with Johnny Dangerous, because it’s obvious that these guys can’t compete one-on-one with the likes of the Trinity!”

 

“I wouldn’t go that far, Robert,” replies Comet. “I’d say that Wild and Dangerous have fairly impressive individual records against…”

 

“Cover,” interrupts Riley. “Janus is going for the pin!”

 

 

 

ONEEE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOO ½!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“NOOO!” shouts Comet excitedly. “Wildchild gets the shoulder up just before three, and I think this crowd is just as surprised as I am!”

 

 

“I’ll admit that Wildchild is displaying more toughness in the ring right now then I thought he was capable of,” says Riley. “I’d tip my hat to him... if I was wearing one, that is.”

 

Dace gets back to his feet and walks back towards a corner of the ring, instructing Terrence to do the same across the ring as Wildchild attempts to recover in the center of the ring.

 

“Oh my,” shouts Comet, noticing Horrorcore’s hand signals. “The Trinity is going to try and put the double-gore on Wildchild!”

 

GORE!

GORE!

GORE!

 

The frenzied chant of the crowd rouses Johnny outside the ring, and the Barracuda finally returns to his feet just in time to see the Trinity about to bear down on his partner in the center of the ring!

 

“Look out, ‘Nic,” shouts Johnny.

 

“I can’t watch,” moans Comet, as he peeks through his hands.

 

Wildchild comes to his senses just in time to see the two behemoths homing in on him, and leaps high into the air. Dace realizes that the Bahama Bomber is no longer on the ground, and puts on the brakes… but the Anti-Heel Machine is unable to slow himself down!

 

 

BOOOOM!

 

The unsuspecting Aussie Giant charges right underneath the airborne Caribbean and barrels into his partner, the force sending him FLYING into the corner! Dace crashes harshly to the mat and rolls out of the ring to gather himself.

 

“He missed,” shouts Comet. “Wildchild got out of the way!” Terrence sits on his knees, looking outside the ring in shock…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… When the Bahama Bomber races up from beside him and leaps into the air, draping his leg over the Aussie’s neck and driving him face-first into the canvas!

 

“Cutter,” exclaims Comet. “Citizen Bailey was so caught up in his mistake, that he forgot to keep track of Wildchild, and the Bahama Bomber made him pay for it, with his patented Caribbean Cutter!”

 

Sensing that the moment is ripe with opportunity, Johnny quickly slides back into the ring. Grabbing the dazed Terrence by his massive arm, the Barracuda pulls him to his feet and, using all the strength he can muster, slings him across the ring, directly into the steel post of the turnbuckle, where he slams back-first into it with a sickening, bone-crunching thud! Bailey’s arm instinctively shoots towards his back as he lets out a howl of pain and staggers out of the corner...

 

 

CRAAACCK!!!!

 

 

… Before Johnny Dangerous rushes in and leaps into action, sending one of his specially tailored spinning heel kicks straight into the Anti-Heel Machine’s temple, knocking him straight back into the turnbuckle! Again a horrid cry of pain is produced as his back slams into the post, while Johnny keeps the heat cranked to the max and winds up for another Spinning Heel Kick!

 

CRAAACCK!!!!

 

“OH MY GOD,” cries Bobby. “What’s he trying to do, kill Janus? Using those types of moves should be illegal! He’s got to have something loaded into his boots!”

 

“Oh please,” replies Comet. “If his boots were loaded, he probably wouldn’t even be able to get into the air like that!”

 

“They’re loaded,” insists Riley. “He’s hit him with two straight kicks to the head with those loaded boots; that‘s enough to leave a man permanently retarded!”

 

“Even if they WERE loaded,” counters Comet, “which they aren’t you jackass! But, even if they were, you said it yourself, Bobby, this is a no disqualification match. You have to use the rules of it in your favor if you want to win, and by Thor’s Hammer, this man wants to win!”

 

Wildchild joins Johnny in pulling Terrence off the mat and whipping him across the ring. The Aussie Giant extends both arms as he bounces off the ropes, looking to decapitate both of his opponents with another double lariat, but this time, Wild and Dangerous manage to duck underneath the Anti-Heel Machine’s charge. Bailey bounces off the opposite ropes…

 

 

CRACK!

 

… And runs smack into a double superkick by Wild and Dangerous! Terrance staggers backwards, but doesn’t fall.

 

“Super Chicklet Buster,” screams Comet. “The big man is reeling!”

 

Pressing their attack, Wild and Dangerous each deliver a kick to Bailey’s midsection, doubling him over. They each wrap an arm around the massive dome of the Hardcore Champion, snaring him in a double side-headlock…

 

 

BAM!

 

 

… And drop backwards simultaneously, driving the Giant’s head into the canvas with a double DDT!

 

 

“Double DDT,” cries Comet. “Terrence is down!”

 

Wild and Dangerous roll the big Aussie onto his back and look each other as though contemplating what to do next. Inspiration strikes suddenly, as Wildchild signs the letters “E-L-E” to his partner. Grinning in agreement, the Barracuda heads towards the corner as the Bahama Bomber proceeds to the opposite corner.

 

“What do these two think they’re going to do here,” wonders Bobby.

 

“I think I know,” replies Comet, “but I don’t want to spoil the surprise!”

 

 

The crowd’s excitement grows to a fever pitch as Wild and Dangerous each look down at Terrence from their respective perches, before they simultaneously take flight!

 

 

WHAAAAAAM!

 

 

Johnny spins through the air fearlessly, twisting and rotating as he descends upon Bailey with a corkscrew legdrop, while Wildchild simultaneously flips off the turnbuckle, pumping his arms and legs towards each other in a jackknife motion before crashing onto Terrence with a shooting-star frog splash!

 

 

“Extinction Level Event,” shouts Comet. “Alex Zenon would be so proud!”

 

“Proud,” growls Riley incredulously. “Zed should sue for copyright infringement!”

 

Without even waiting for Wildchild to move, the Barracuda jumps onto his back, and Wild and Dangerous applies a double pin on the Anti-Heel Machine as the referee drops down into position to make the count:

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

NO!

 

 

 

“He kicked out,” exclaims Comet. “By the power of Hercules, he kicked out! Two men pinning him at once, and he STILL kicked out!”

 

Wild and Dangerous look at each other in shock, as Dace manages to finally crawl back into the ring.

 

“Wild and Dangerous miss a golden opportunity to put Terrence out of commission with Dace out of the picture, but the Hardcore Champion is simply too tough,” says Comet.

 

“That was the best chance that they were ever going to get,” adds Riley, as Terrence rolls onto his knees, “and they blew it. They might as well just lay down and spare themselves the pain!”

 

Wildchild steps over towards Bailey, but the Aussie Giant grabs him by the front of his tights and pulls forcefully, sending the surprised Bahama Bomber sailing past him and tumbling out of the ring!

 

 

Johnny decides to try and put Bailey down for the count with another kick, completely oblivious that Dace is standing behind him, about to charge in for the kill! Dace lets out a mighty growl as he charges across the ring, then just as he is within feet of Johnny Dangerous begins to bring his leg out for his dreaded Yakuza Kick!

 

 

WHOOSH!

 

… But the Barracuda - with his Secret Agent reflexes - quickly throws himself backwards, escaping the deadly blow by the skin of his teeth, and leaving Janus wide open to receive the brunt of his very own partners attack!!

 

 

KA-FUCKING-RAAAAACCKKK!!!

 

 

… And Terrence goes sailing right out of the ring, and straight down to the padded concrete floor with a massive thud!

 

“HOLY (BLEEP)! OH MY GOD! WHAT THE F-”

 

“Watch your mouth,” snaps Comet in just the nick of time. “Dace Night just nailed his partner with a Yakuza Kick intended for Johnny Dangerous, and Dace looks absolutely horrified!”

 

Looking as if he’d just watched someone blow their brains out, Dace’s usually pale skin turns a sickly sallow. All he can do is watch the crumpled mess of his partner sprawled out on the floor, and in turn leaves himself open wider than a Las Vegas whore as Johnny reaches up and grabs onto the back of the High Priest’s head, leading towards a nearby corner and SLAMMING his forehead into the turnbuckle with absolutely no resistance!

 

WHAM!!

 

Dace’s head pops off the turnbuckle like a well-aired basketball, and he goes staggering backwards. As Wildchild makes his way back onto the apron, Johnny grabs onto Night and whips him across the ring towards the far ropes, and without a single word spoken Wildchild takes to the nearest turnbuckle. Dace bounces off the ropes and back towards the waiting Barracuda, who uses his momentum against him, lifting Horrorcore HIGH into the air for a Back Body Drop as the Bahama Bomber EXPLODES off the turnbuckle…

 

 

BOOM!

 

 

 

… BLASTING the Brummie Goth in the face with a flying forearm as he goes CRASHING into the canvas!!!

 

“That’s got to be it,” cries Comet. “That must be Wild and Dangerous’ brand-new move - The Silver Bullet! Such finesse!”

 

Landing on top of Dace, Wildchild stays put for the pin as the referee drops down for the count with the crowds lending a vocal hand:

 

 

 

ONEEE!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

“What a crock of (bleep),” says Bobby.

 

With the last sound of the bell ringing out, "Y.O.U." blasts across the arena and the crowds let out a magnificent cheer!

 

“They’ve done it,” cheers Comet, “Wild and Dangerous have just positioned themselves for a shot at the SWF Tag Team Championship, and it’s about damned time!”

 

“More like they’ve positioned themselves for an ass-whooping courtesy of Justice and Rule,” counters Bobby. “These two clowns don’t even realize what they set themselves up for!”

 

“I think they got exactly what they wanted, Citizen Riley, and what most of these fans have long been wanting.”

 

“Bull (bleep),” roars Riley. “They didn’t even BEAT the Trinity; they threw every move they had at Janus, and it wasn’t enough to keep him down! If the Trinity don’t make two critical mistakes, there’s no chance in hell that Wild and Dangerous win this match!”

 

Wild and Dangerous make their way back up the ramp after claiming victory. Their arms raised high, and the momentum finally in their corner.

 

As we:

FADE OUT[/color]

[Kaertos 0]

“FOCK THUGG”

 

The camera focuses in on this sign as we return to break, the fans in the United Centre in Chicago going absolutely wild as we fade out to a nice crowd shot, the people coming to life as we pan the arena quickly, getting a shot of all the Chicago citizens before cutting to a shot of Bobby Riley and the Cyclone Comet, sitting at the announce table. Riley grins, welcoming us back from break.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Lockdown, live in Chicago, Illinois,” Riley says. “We’re about twenty minutes away from tonight’s main event, Danny Williams versus Ejiro Fasaki for the SWF Heavyweight Championship.”

 

“But right now,” Comet bubbles excitedly, “we have a match made out of JUSTICE~! After the vicious beating HVT laid on Mak Francis at The Fight Before Christmas, many of us were wondering who would rise UP to stop the evil reign of Thugg! And lo, we found our answer on New Years’ Eve, when Mike Van Siclen stepped up to the plate and challenged Thugg to a match!”

 

“To nobody’s great surprised,” Riley picks up, “Thugg accepted, and tonight the match happens – Thugg versus Mike Van Siclen, one-on-one. We haven’t seen Van Siclen in competition for almost half of year, ever since the breakup of Catch-22.”

 

“Indeed, and he set his sights high upon his comeback,” Comet points out. “Supervillain Thugg has been riding high over the last couple of weeks, and if Van Siclen wants to knock him from his ebony tower, he’s going to have to bring his A game…”

 

“And even that,” Riley says, “might not even be enough. Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the match to begind… let’s send it to Funyon for tonight’s introductions.”

 

We focus in on Funyon, mid-ring, who lifts the microphone to his lips, speaking clearly as the electricity of the crowd slowly rises, building to a crescendo as Funyon speaks… “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for ONE fall!”

 

The lights in the arena black out, covering all crevices of the place with a cloud of complete and utter darkness, through which the familiar laugh echoes...

 

“MUWHAHAHAHA!”

 

An electric guitar blares out of the speakers, setting the crowd into a frenzy of boos, in addition to starting the introduction to DMX’s “Who We Be”! The fans leap from their seats and throw their blooming hatred at the Thugg, despite the fact that we haven’t even felt his presence yet…

 

"They don't know..."

"Who we be."

 

"They don't know..."

"Who we be."

 

“What they don’t know is…”

 

BOOM!

 

A huge explosion on the stage leaves a wall of fire across the stage in its wake, leaving only a small path in the center, as the first verse of the song begins. In the path left by the wall of fire, a dark, almost larger-than-life figure creeps forward, a black towel over his head, and as the figure makes his way to the part of the path where the fire is on both sides of him, Funyon makes his introduction.

 

”Introducing first, weighing in at three-hundred and eighty-six pounds, he hails from Washington, DC… the THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGG!”

 

Upon hearing the announcement, HVT begins his slow descent to the ring, removing the towel from his head on his way down the ramp. The fire on the stage ceases as HVT reaches the apron, where he holds onto the top rope and uses it to pull himself up to the apron. He, then, proceeds to step over the top rope and into the ring, walking to his corner and leaning back, waiting for tonight’s opponent…

 

“And his OPPONENT…”

 

The melodic intro to “Ready to Die” by Andrew W.K. hits the loudspeakers, and the fans slowly begin cheering… and then the drums drop in.

 

BOOM BOOM

 

BOOOOOOOM!

 

White pyro goes off as the song continues, and the glistening body of Mike Van Siclen emerges through it, a slight grin on his face as he stares daggers at the Thugg in the ring!

 

“Weighing in at two-hundred and thirty-seven pounds, he hails from HARRISON, ILLINOIS…”

 

The fans nearly drown out Funyon’s next words as Van Siclen slides into the ring, hopping up and down on the balls of his feet, eager to get his hands on Thugg. The fans cheer their hometown boy as Funyon continues…

 

“He is MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE VAN SIIIIIIIIIC-LEN!”

 

*DING DING DING*

 

The bell sounds and immediately Thugg lumbers towards Van Siclen, not wanting to waste any time whatsoever. The more cautious and wrestler-like Van Siclen, however, is not up for playing by Thugg’s rules, and backs up a couple of feet, hitting the ropes! He charges forward, using the momentum to lunge at Thugg! The big man, caught somewhat off-guard by Van Siclen’s plan of attack, tries to grab him – but the Spectacle dives under his grip, driving his shoulder right into the knees of Thugg!

 

HVT is naturally caught off guard, and he stumbles back a few feet, somehow maintaining his balance! Van Siclen looks as shocked at this as anyone, but as he gets back to his feet he realizes that he has no time to waste, grabbing Thugg by the arm and looking to whip him into the ropes – but Thugg looks at him with a “You’re kidding, right?” style of look, pulling Van Siclen towards him and easily reversing the whip into a short-arm clothesline!

 

“Van Siclen looking for the Irish Whip,” Riley remarks, “but Thugg makes it clear from the outset that he is not getting away with that tonight!”

 

“I know Van Siclen and I know that he’s reviewed the tapes,” Comet says. “I think that that mistake proves more than anything that Van Siclen -is- still trying to work the rust off.”

 

Van Siclen gets to his feet, a bit slowly, shaking his head very slowly as if to say ‘you got me good that time’. Thugg glares at Van Siclen, stalking towards him again, his arms outstretched for a grapple – but Van Siclen ducks underneath them, going behind Thugg! Quickly, Van Siclen goes to Thugg’s right side, grapevining HVT’s right leg with his left and falling backwards with a quick Russian leg sweep! The crowd cheers as Van Siclen pops right back to his feet, and Thugg gets to his own feet, shaking out his leg and staring at Van Siclen coldly – and in response, MVS points his fingers like a gun at Thugg, mock-shooting him and blowing the smoke away.

 

“Van Siclen just told Thugg that they’re even,” Comet says.

 

“And if there’s one thing Thugg hates, it’s things that are even,” Riley quips.

 

“Yes!” Comet exclaims, catching Riley off guard. “Thugg definitely has a flair for the odd!”

 

Nobody else gets it, as Thugg, enraged, charges Van Siclen – but MVS uses his head once again, hitting the mat and pulling down the top rope with him! Thugg goes flipping over the top rope, barely managing to keep his balance, and he turns around, MADLY IN ANGER~ with Van Siclen…

 

…who grabs the bottom rope, pulling himself forward and slamming, legs-first, right into the skull of Thugg!

 

“Modified baseball slide by Van Siclen,” Comet remarks, “and he seems to be using his head well in this match!”

 

Van Siclen lets himself drop to the outside, restarting the referee’s count-out count. Thugg, now relatively pissed off and not feeling much of anything, walks up to Van Siclen and grabs him by the arm, whipping him into the steel steps!

 

*CRASH!*

 

Van Siclen grimaces as his back collides full-on with the steps, and Thugg charges him, lifting his right leg high into the air and looking to bury it in the stomach of the Spectacle…

 

*CRASH!*

 

But Van Siclen rolls out of the way just in time, and Thugg goes right leg-first into the steel steps! The referee’s count-out count hits five as Thugg winces, grabbing his right leg in pain. Van Siclen slides into the ring, sliding back out again and accomplishing his goal of resetting the count – and now goes back to his focus on Thugg’s right leg.

 

“It looked like Thugg had Van Siclen there,” Comet notes, “but Van Siclen’s dodging has been spectacular tonight – I don’t think he’s felt a full-on blow from Thugg since the short-arm clothesline earlier in the match!”

 

“That’s good strategizing, Comet,” Riley says begrudgingly. “I hate to admit it, but Van Siclen has taken his notes, and they’re paying off in a big way right here!”

 

Mike grabs Thugg by the dreadlocks on the outside, attempting to lead HVT back into the ring – but Thugg’s injury to his leg doesn’t mean that he suddenly went stupid, and he angrily slaps Van Siclen across the face! Mike lets go of Thugg’s dreads, grabbing the side of his face in pain, and Thugg capitalizes, doing a short dash forward and knocking Van Siclen down on the outside with a hard lariat! The crowd boos as Van Siclen hits the outside hard, his head ‘thwacking’ across the thin padding as the ref’s count hits four… five…

 

“Van Siclen could’ve seriously injured his neck there!” cries Comet.

 

“Oh, come on, Comet,” Riley says. “Do you think Thugg will feel sympathy? He’s broken his neck TWICE! He’s TWO TIMES THE MAN that Van Siclen is!”

 

“Two times the man?”

 

“Two TIMES the MAY – AN~!”

 

Thugg angrily grabs Van Siclen by the long blonde hair, lifting MVS to his feet. Full of rage, Thugg rolls Van Siclen into the ring, rolling in himself and looking to inflict some serious damage on Mike. Thugg grabs MVS by the hair once more, lifting him to his feet, and as Van Siclen reaches his full height Thugg grabs him between the legs and by the neck, lifting him up into powerslam position… and falling forward, all of his three-hundred and eighty-six pounds crushing Van Siclen into the mat! Almost as a no-brainer, Thugg stays down, letting the ref make the count…

 

“ONE!”

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

“THRE – NO!” Van Siclen barely gets a shoulder blade off the mat through the giant black man, and Thugg looks down at him – and squashes Van Siclen’s shoulder against the mat once more! The ref counts again…

 

“ONE!”

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

“THRE – NO!” This time Van Siclen kicks out with some semblance of authority, and Thugg gets off of him, grabbing him by the hair and lifting him to his feet.

 

“Thugg using some psychology there,” Riley remarks, “making Van Siclen kick out twice to sap him of more energy. Every kickout takes a lot of energy, and Van Siclen had to expel a lot just to get out of it once!”

 

“…do you really think the big retard could think of that on his own?” Comet asks with a grin.

 

Thugg angrily grabs Van Siclen, going side-to-side with the smaller man and wrapping one arm across his body. HVT then uses his other arm to lift Van Siclen’s legs up, looking for a Bossman-style sidewalk slam – but Van Siclen uses the momentum to flip over Thugg’s arm! He scissors it with his legs, reaching across Thugg’s back and grabbing the other arm, scissoring it too! Thugg stumbles a bit before falling backwards, victim to a crucifix pinning predicament!

 

“OOOOOONE!”

 

 

“TWOOOOO!”

 

 

 

“THRE – NO!” Thugg pushes his body forward and into a sitting position, his eyes teeming with rage as Van Siclen flips his sweaty hair back and out of his eyes, looking over at Thugg, who turns around, standing up. Mike collapses again on the mat, obviously a bit worn-out from Thugg’s punishment, but the big man looks like he doesn’t care as he stands to his full height!

 

“Thugg is NOT happy,” yells Riley, “and he’s about to take all of his frustration out on Mike Van Siclen!”

 

Van Siclen slowly staggers to his feet, obviously a bit out of the game, and Thugg grabs him by the arm, violently whipping him into the ropes! The Spectacle hits the ropes quickly and rushes back, going blazingly fast as Thugg grabs him by the chest and neck, lifting him up into the air with a Military Press!…

 

…but the momentum is so great that Van Siclen, purely on instinct, can flow through it, rolling off of Thugg’s arms and barely landing on his feet beside the big man! Thugg, a bit confused, turns around…

 

*CRACK!*

 

…and gets rocked with a desperation Superkick from Van Siclen!

 

“Superkick!” Comet nearly breaks the microphone. “SUPERKICK FROM VAN SICLEN!”

 

“But Thugg is still standing,” Riley comments warningly, “and he does NOT look happy!”

 

“He hasn’t looked happy all night!” Comet shoots back.

 

Indeed, Thugg is still standing, and he charges at Van Siclen, looking to steamroll the Spectacle…

 

*CRACK!*

 

Another Superkick, and THIS one sends Thugg to the mat! The crowd absolutely erupts, as Van Siclen, obviously still groggy, drops to his knees, covering Thugg and hooking the injured right leg, daring HVT to try and use it to power out! The fans erupts as Thugg, possibly unconscious, doesn’t move, laying perfectly still as the referee counts!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!”

 

“VAN SIC – LEN! VAN SIC – LEN!”

 

 

 

“TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

“VAN SIC – LEN! VAN SIC – LEN!”

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

 

 

 

 

“NO!”

 

“Thugg kicked out!” squeals Riley. “I don’t know how he did it and I DON’T CARE – Thugg kicked out!”

 

“I don’t know how he did it either,” comments Comet, “after a pair of superkicks and the hooking of the right leg, but he is STILL in this match, and Van Siclen can’t possibly be happy about that!”

 

Van Siclen gets to his feet, wiping the sweat-covered hair out of his face as he goes over to the turnbuckle, grinning like a sieve as he climbs it, the fans wanting to see Mike take to the air and roaring for every step!

 

“VAN SIC – LEN!”

 

“VAN SIC – LEN!”

 

Finally, MVS hits the top rope, and he turns around, facing the former Hville Thugg! The crowd erupts as Van Siclen bounces a bit on the top rope, readying himself for something big – and then hops into the air, turning around so that his back faces Thugg and splitting his legs apart, hitting the top rope once more before flipping backwards with a sweet split-legged moonsault…

 

THAT MISSES ITS MARK! Thugg rolls out of the way, and Van Siclen crashes face-first into the mat! The crowd boos as Thugg gets to his feet, a bit of confidence in his eyes as he grabs Van Siclen by the blonde hair, lifting him to his feet.

 

“Van Siclen misses with the split-legged moonsault,” Riley says, a hint of happiness in his voice, “and Thugg is now in control once more!”

 

“Thugg in control is a signal for millions of television viewers to turn off their televisions!”

 

Thugg knees Van Siclen in the stomach, doubling him over. Thugg then proceeds to wrap one meaty arm around Van Siclen’s head, grabbing the top of Van Siclen’s tights and lifting him high into the air, into suplex position! Thugg holds him there, for three seconds… four… six… nine… twelve… his leg starts to buckle, and before it gives out he falls back, suplexing Van Siclen to the mat after holding him in midair for twelve seconds! Van Siclen grabs his back in pain, but Thugg gets to his feet, not caring all about what physical strain there is on the smaller competitor.

 

“Thugg holds Van Siclen up there for twelve seconds, even with all the leg work done to him!”

 

“He feels no pain, Comet,” Riley shoots back. “HE FEARS NO MAN!”

 

Thugg grabs Van Siclen, lifting him to his feet with anger. Mike, tired, backs into the corner, relying on it to hold his body up. Thugg glares at Van Siclen, a grin on his face as he charges the corner, leaping into the air and crushing Van Siclen against the turnbuckles! Thugg backs up, sucking wind like Rosie O’Donnell after walking up a flight of stairs, as Van Siclen stumbles out of the corner… and right into a punch from Thugg!

 

The crowd boos as Van Siclen stumbles back into the corner again… and Thugg hits him square in the face with another right hand! The fans are booing like crazy now as Thugg reaches down deep, and punches Van Siclen in the face once more! He backs up, allowing Van Siclen to stumble out of the corner… and right into a vicious lariat from Thugg!

 

“Somewhere,” Comet remarks, “Kevin Nash is mocking HVT’s moveset.”

 

“Shut up, Comet,” Riley says. “That was a highly painful assault from Thugg – look at Van Siclen on the mat!”

 

Indeed, Van Siclen cradles his jaw in his hand, obviously a bit in pain from the repeated shots to it from Thugg. He slowly gets to his feet, eyeing Thugg carefully as the big man lumbers towards him, grabbing him by the arm and whipping him into the ropes. Van Siclen hits them hard, coming back at Thugg, who looks to nail him with a lariat… but Van Siclen ducks it, popping up behind Thugg! With all of his power, Van Siclen shoves Thugg into the ropes, and the big man falls into them. He comes back at Van Siclen, roaring like a freight train – but MVS hits the mat, scissoring his right leg and dropping HVT with a vicious drop toe hold! Thugg cries out in pain, grabbing his leg as Van Siclen gets to his feet, obviously back in the game!

 

“Van Siclen with the drop toe hold,” Comet calls, “and that right leg has got to be bothering Thugg!”

 

“Not enough to keep him down, though,” Riley points out. “Thugg’s back on his feet, and he’s looking viciously in the direction of one Mike Van Siclen!”

 

Thugg growls at Van Siclen, but Mike is on a high and not about to be brought down by Thugg! On fire, Van Siclen bounces off of the ropes, charging back at Thugg. Thugg lifts his left boot up, looking for the big boot – but Van Siclen slides underneath him, jamming Thugg in the right leg with a chop block to send him reeling to the mat! HVT grabs his right leg in pain as he topples to the mat, while Van Siclen just stands up, posing for the crowd!

 

“Van Siclen is hot, Riley!” Comet cries. “He’s loving this!”

 

Van Siclen hops up and down a little bit to get the blood flowing again. Thugg slowly gets to his feet, withstanding Van Siclen’s onslaught but obviously feeling the effects of it as Van Siclen again goes to the ropes, bouncing off of them and coming back at Thugg hard…

 

But HVT grabs him around the midsection, lifting Van Siclen high into the air before throwing him straight down onto his back, with a vicious front bearhug slam! The crowd boos as Thugg allows his large black face to smile, before grabbing the hair of the Spectacle and lifting him to his feet.

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAITCH – VIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLE!”

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAITCH – VIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLE!”

 

“These fans are trying to distract Thugg,” Riley gloats, “but I don’t think HVT is much affected by it!”

 

“If he is, he’s certainly not showing it,” Comet says. “He’s cold and he’s ruthless, but when you get right down to it – that’s what makes the great wrestlers great.”

 

HVT grabs Van Siclen by the arm, pulling him across his body and looking to whip Van Siclen into the ropes – but MVS clutches tightly to Thugg’s wrist, using HVT’s own momentum to dash behind Thugg, the big black man’s arm still in the grasp of the smaller, white man! Grinning like a sieve Van Siclen wraps Thugg’s own arm around his neck, sitting out and pulling Thugg back to the mat with his own arm! The crowd erupts as Thugg hits the mat hard, clutching his neck in pain!

 

”VAN SIC – LEN!”

 

“VAN SIC – LEN!”

 

MVS crawls over Thugg’s body, hooking the big black man’s right leg with both hands, leaning back on Thugg’s body with all his weight! The crowd counts along with the ref this time.

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“This is all, Bobby! This is all!”

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

 

“NO!”

 

“No, Comet, no it isn’t!”

 

Thugg again manages to power out, though with less oomph than he did last time. The crowd isn’t happy with this result, raining boos down with Thugg as the “H – VILLE!” chant starts up once more. Van Siclen, meanwhile, grabs Thugg by his long dreadlocks, lifting him to his feet yet again.

 

“I don’t know what Van Siclen is doing here, Comet!” Riley screams. “He has Thugg grounded again, and yet he lifts him to his feet once more? This didn’t work the first time, Comet!”

 

“Van Siclen’s looking for the knockout blow, Bobby,” Comet replies, “and I think he feels his best chance is to attack Thugg while he’s upright!”

 

“…he’s wrong, then.”

 

Thugg wanders around a little bit, still a bit dazed… and Van Siclen lifts his leg into the air, before thrusting it down on the right knee of Thugg! The crowd cheers as Thugg’s knee buckles, and Van Siclen, sensing blood, lifts his leg high again… thrusting downward on the knee of HVT! Again, the cheering gets louder, as Van Siclen lifts his leg up high again…

 

…but it drops as Thugg reaches up, wrapping one huge fist around MVS’ neck!

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH HE’S GOT HIM IN A CHOKEHOLD!” Riley calls.

 

Thugg gets to his feet, his right leg still a bit unsteady as he lifts Van Siclen into the air, in perfect chokeslam position! Grinning like a devil, Thugg lifts his left leg in the air, as tradition dictates, looking to whirl around on his right leg, holding Van Siclen in the air and looking to deliver the spinning chokeslam!…

 

…but the right leg of the Thugg buckles, and he falls to one knee, dropping Van Siclen to the mat in what amounts to a choke drop! Van Siclen lands on all fours, but he quickly gets to his feet, seeing Thugg on his left knee… and a cocky half-smile breaks onto his face as he backs up a few feet before charging at HVT, hopping into the air and landing with his left foot on Thugg’s right knee, pivoting on it and driving his right knee right into the side of Thugg’s face!

 

*CRACK!* “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

“SHINING WIZARD!” cries Comet. “His strategy pays off, as Thugg can’t keep him in the air for the Untamed chokeslam – and now Van Siclen looks to have victory in his grasp!”

 

The crowd erupts as Van Siclen gets to his feet once more, rolling Thugg onto his back before covering him once more, hooking the right leg once more!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!”

 

“Thugg’s going to have to power out with his injured leg!”

 

“VAN SIC – LEN! VAN SIC – LEN!”

 

“TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Does he have the strength left in him, Comet?”

 

“VAN SIC – LEN! VAN SIC – LEN!”

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

 

 

The referee gets up, signaling for the bell as the crowd explodes!

 

*DING DING DING*

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon announces, “your winner, at sixteen minutes, seven seconds, MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE VAN SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC-LEN!”

 

Van Siclen lets go of Thugg’s leg, rolling off of the big man and out of the ring. He grins as he hits the ramp, turning around to face the ring and holding up both arms in the air. The referee touching to his right arm to signal his victory is merely a formality, and the Spectacle grins at his handiwork as “Ready to Die” blasts over the speakers, the crowd chanting his name!

 

“VAN SIC – LEN! VAN SIC – LEN!”

 

“What a return for Mike Van Siclen,” Comet gushes, “coming in and beating arguably the hottest wrestler in the SWF right now!”

 

“It took a lot of luck to do it, Comet,” Riley growls back.

 

“It took careful planning and perfect execution, and he did both. Fans, still to come is Danny Williams versus Ejiro Fasaki – can the Unholy Trinity capture the World championship? Find out.. NEXT!”

 

Fade to black…

[Kaertos 0]

Not since the glory days of Michael Jordan has the United Center been so lively, so full of energy, so electric. Despite bad wintery weather, their isn’t an empty seat in the house, here in the SWF’s home town of Chicago! There’s a buzz among the fans, as if they can sense that they are about to witness something very special during tonight’s main event.

 

Comet: My fair citizens, we have just taken our last commercial break so we can bring tonight’s Main Event to you live and uninterrupted!

 

Riley: This isn’t just any old run of the mil Main Event, mind you. Tonight, the World Title will be on the line as we see Ejiro Fasaki defending his newly won title against the returning Danny Williams!

 

Comet: Yes, our loyal viewers you heard that right, and this is no PPV either!

 

Sweating profusely from the dry heat, Funyon loosens his bow tie before busting out the index cards, and getting the show on the road.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for the MAIN EVENT OF THE EVENING!”

 

On that cue, the fans go berserk!

 

“The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is for the SWF Heavyweight Championship...OF THE WORLD!”

 

“The Jester’s Dance” comes bouncing out of the loud speakers, causing the crowd to go get even wilder! As the heroic guitar lead kicks in, Danny Williams emerges from the shadows of the locker room entrance. Once the fans catch sight of Williams, flash photography starts to go off like machine gun fire!

 

“Introducing first, weighing in at 243 pounds, hailing from Louisville, Kentucky.......DANNY WILLIAMSsss!”

 

A man on a mission, Williams is all business as he cooly makes his way down the entrance ramp. Focused and expressionless, Danny slowly makes his way up the ring steps, and confidently steps through the ropes. Once inside the ring, Williams acknowledges the fans by jumping on the second turnbuckle, and pumping his fist in the air!

 

Comet: When it comes to the SWF World Title, super citizen Danny Williams hasn’t had the best of luck. He came up short in his first and only title shot against Tom Flesher, and later in the summer, Williams was forced to drop out of the number one contender ship tournament when TNT interfered in his match, and gave him a concussion.

 

Riley: What a wimp! I’ve won so many tournaments with concussions, I can’t even remember them all.

 

Comet: Still, Williams was able to earn a title shot by defeating TNT , but in another cruel twist of fate; Danny would end up suffering another concussion, before getting his promised title shot. However, Williams had to return from his fortress of solitude earlier than planned, so that he could rebuild the Unholy Trinity...

 

Riley: And get his ass kicked by Va’aiga.

 

Comet: But now he’s finally at 100%, and after defeating the powerful super villain, Judge Mental, Danny Williams has shown that he’s ready for another shot at the gold.

 

Soon, the gentle melodies of the death metal instrumental is replaced by the funky riffs of Rage Against Machine. Knowing full and well who’s entrance music this is, the fans lower their thumbs, and madly “boo!”. The Smarktron comes alive with lighting quick clips, showing Ejiro Fasaki and his partner, Judge Mental, destroying jobbers in a variety of interesting ways. In a spellbinding moment, red pyro rapidly shoots off the edge of the stage like cannon fire!

 

“And his opponent, weighing in at 210 pounds, hailing from Sarasota, Florida..........HE IS YOUR SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION...................EJIRO FASAKIiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!

 

Wearing the title around his waist like a war trophy, Ejiro comes galloping out of the locker room with a look of determination etched across his face! Jogging down the aisle, Fasaki greasily slides into the ring, and springs to his feet. Taunting Williams, Ejiro points at his opponent, and shouts inaudible taunts his way!

 

Riley: There he is! The man who defeated that sell out, Tom Flesher, our new SWF World Champion, Ejiro Fasaki!

 

Comet: Tonight is a very important night for our new Champion. Not only is this his first defense, but it also happens to be against a man who has defeated him three times in three different meetings.

 

Riley: This isn’t the same Fasaki that Danny toyed with last summer, this is the man that beat Tom Flesher! That’s right, defeated Tom Flesher! Got the 1-2-3...cleanly....in the middle of the ring!

 

Comet: Indeed he did, citizen Riley. Somewhere in your lunatic rumblings, you did bring up a very good point. Ejiro’s technical skills and all around game have improved by leaps and bounds over the past couple of months, not to mention he has the Champion’s advantage, something he lacked in his previous meetings with Danny. Danny has to beat Ejiro, but Ejiro doesn’t have to beat him.

 

Riley: I don’t think were gonna be seeing Ejiro in a passive role, tonight. Williams totally humiliated Ejiro in their previous meeting, and that’s not something that’s easily forgotten.

 

Removing his belt ever so carefully, Fasaki hands the title over to Soapdish, who raises it high over his head, reminding everyone in the building what it’s all about. For the first time in the evening, Danny takes his eyes off Ejiro, and closely watches the prize at stake as it get’s laid into the hands of an outside official. Ejiro on the other hand, doesn’t break eye contact with Williams, instead, he stares him down like a hungry lion eying a meal.

 

Riley: One man wants the title, the other wants revenge!

 

The fans are getting anxious, and so are the wrestlers. With both men in their corners, and the title in the belt keeper’s hands, Soapdish doesn’t delay the Main Event any further!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

At the sound of the opening of the bell, the crowd respectively applauds the start of what they suspect will be a memorable World Title match. Despite being the champion, Ejiro energetically bounces out of his corner like he’s the one who has something to prove. Smelling gold, Williams enthusiastically makes his way to the center of the ring as well. Briefly feeling each other out, both men turn a few quick circles around each other before locking up! Ejiro swiftly snatches a wristlock, but Williams ducks his head under his arm, hooks his leg, and flips him to the mat with a standing Northern Lights Suplex, reversing the wristlock to one of his own!

 

Comet: Williams, using raw power to reverse the wristlock!

 

Back rolling to his knees, Ejiro rolls forward, and impressively hand stands to his feet! Caught by surprise, Williams is unable to prevent Ejiro from smoothly reversing the wristlock! As soon as Ejiro assumes control, Williams rolls in one direction, athletically cartwheels back in the other, reversing the wristlock in dazzling fashion! Enjoying the quick, flashy counters, the fans whistle and holler with approval. Annoyed by Williams’ flippy flop bullshit, Ejiro bashes his jaw with a mean spirited forearm!

 

Crack!

 

Williams is left stunned, allowing Ejiro to put him back in the wristlock! From there, Ejiro grabs a handful of William’s long black hair, and uses it to pull him down to the mat! The fans greet the short cut with a predictable round of “boos”.

 

Riley: Great scientific wrestling from the Champion!

 

Comet: I don’t think an elbow/hair pulling combo counts as scientific wrestling, Riley.

 

Scoffing at their frowns, Ejiro chuckles at the sold out crowd as he twists Danny’s arm with bad intentions! Refusing to stay down, Williams snaps to his feet with a picture perfect kip up,...

 

CRACK!

 

and drops Fasaki with a devastating elbow smash! In the blink of an eye, Ejiro rolls to the outside like his life depends on it! Williams celebrates the flash knockdown by raising his arm to the crowd, prompting the fans to energetically chant his name!

 

“DAN-E!” DAN-E! DAN-E!”

 

Rubbing his jaw, Ejiro paces back and forth on the outside, desperately trying to regroup. Some of the front roll fans run their mouths at Ejiro, who is more than willing to jaw jack with em.

 

Comet: It would seem that Danny Williams is letting Ejiro know that if he wants to turn this into a dirty fight, he’s more than capable of holding his own.

 

Riley: That’s o.k., because Ejiro doesn’t need to cheat to out wrestle Danny. He just took a few early liberties, because they were their to take, not because he had to.

 

Collecting his senses, Ejiro waits for Williams to get far on the other side of the ring, before climbing back in. Pre-cautiously entering the ring, a feisty looking Ejiro starts inching his way towards Danny. Holding up his hand, Ejiro offers Williams a knucklelock. Not exactly trusting of Faskai’s character, Williams is naturally hesitant to accept. Shifty eyed and suspicious, Williams slowly extends his hands, and wiggles his fingers. Danny nervously links his left hand with Ejiro’s, and to his surprise, there’s no cheap shot.

 

Comet: Could it be that Ejiro is so determined to prove he’s the better ring technician that he’s gonna refrain from cheating and cheap shots, and cleanly wrestle?

 

In a flash, Williams gracefully spins at Ejiro like a ballerina of death, twisting his arm behind his head with a faster than light top wristlock! Before the fans can even get a chance to take the spectacular move in, Ejiro busts out a jaw dropping move of his own! Ducking behind his captor, Ejiro suavely bends his arm back into a hammerlock!

 

Riley: I told you Ejiro doesn’t need any short cuts to out wrestle Danny.

 

Comet: Ejiro has indeed came along way since his previous counter with Williams, finding a counter to the top wristlock he couldn’t escape in their last match.

 

Obviously confused by the sudden counter, Williams aimlessly wanders in a circle, taking a couple seconds to gather his wits. Formulating an escape, Danny reaches down between his legs, grabs Ejiro by the boot, and pulls his leg out from underneath him. Now free from the hammerlock, Williams drops to one knee, and casually laces Ejiro’s legs up in an Indian Deathlock! Continuing to amaze, Ejiro actually rolls underneath Williams’ outside leg, popping up behind him in a doggy style position. Releasing Danny’s leg, Ejiro slithers up on his back, and grabs hold of his left arm. Fluidity swinging his legs around the captured limb, Ejiro straddles Williams’ shoulder, and straightens his arm out with a nasty looking armbar!

 

Riley: Ejiro is taking Danny to school!

 

Comet: Ejiro is matching Williams hold for hold, something he was unable to do in the past! Perhaps, Ejiro’s skills have finally surpassed Williams’!

 

The pain is unbearable, causing Danny to wildly scream his head off! Sensing that Williams is in serious trouble, the crowd begins to get noisy. Wincing and pouring sweat, Williams pulls his knees underneath his stomach, and successfully rolls on his back! One of Williams’ boots lands atop the bottom rope, forcing Ejiro to release his arm! Jumping to his feet, Fasaki bounces around, waiting for Williams to get off the ropes like a shark waiting for it’s victim to get in the water. In a great deal of pain, Williams sluggishly climbs up to one knee, clutching his sore arm tightly.

 

Smack! Smack!

 

Showing no mercy, Ejiro lays a couple of vicious kicks into Williams’ sore arm!

 

Comet: Ejiro now focusing his attack on Williams’ arm, which appears to have been injured by that Straddling Armbar.

 

Riley: Notice that he’s confidently attacking the left arm. Ejiro always use to work over the right arm, because he was scared of Williams’ elbows. Now he’s working the arm to set up his own offense, doing what he has to do to win, not prevent himself from losing

 

Dragging Danny up by his injured appendage, Ejiro leads him to the center of the ring, where he gives him a disfiguring arm wringer! Diving forward, Ejiro drives Danny’s face and shoulder into the mat with an unnerving thud! Not letting Williams get away, Ejiro slaps on the infamous Fujiwara Armbar! Pounding his free fist into the mat, Williams cries out in pain as Ejiro threatens to snap his arm in half like a dry twig!

 

Riley: Here’s another submission attempt, he may have him this time!

 

Sensing that Williams is need of their support, the United Center busts out in encouraging “DAN-E!” chant. Feeding off the energy of the crowd, Williams battles his way to a vertical base, refusing to give up!

 

Comet: Thanks to the courage of his fans, Williams has found the courage to fight on.

 

Riley: Bah, the only think Danny is fighting for is a bigger paycheck.

 

Now standing, Ejiro is forced to go back to a standard armbar, which still causes Williams some discomfort. With a sadistic look in his eyes, Ejiro turns his back to Williams, while contorting his arm over his shoulder. In bone shattering fashion, Ejiro snaps Danny’s arm across his shoulder with a nasty Arm breaker! The pain is so intense that it brings Danny to his knees, where Ejiro sadistically punts his face!

 

Bam!

 

Grabbing his busted mouth, Williams oozes the rest of the way down to the mat, while the fans gasp in horror. While Williams anguishes on the mat, Ejiro struts around the ring in celebration, running his mouth like only a champion can. Despite taking a lengthy stroll, Ejiro discovers that Williams is still unable to make it to his feet. Growing impatient, Ejiro begins tauntingly flicking his boot in Danny’s face, disrespecting the number one contender while he’s down.

 

Comet: Ejiro is just toying with Williams now, shamelessly flaunting his superiority over the challenger.

 

Riley: And I say, “why not?”, Danny did the same thing to him last summer! As the old saying goes, what comes around, goes around.

 

Not taking to kindly to Fasaki’s attitude, the fans begin an unflattering chant.

 

“F-U-FASAK! FU-FASAKI!” FU-FASKI!”

 

In a slight stupor, Danny clumsily climbs to his feet, when Ejiro grabs hold of his injured arm! Painfully bending Williams’ arm behind his back in a key lock, Ejiro flips him to the mat with a flashy takedown! Kneeling on top of Williams, Ejiro violently tugs on his arm, threatening to rip it off!

 

 

Riley: Having proven to everyone in the building how much better he is than the challenger, Ejiro is gonna easily make Williams tap out to solidify this match as a dominating victory!

 

Williams screams and screams as he wiggles to the ropes like his life depends on it! Biting his lip, and refusing to submit, Williams makes the ropes in a matter of seconds!

 

Riley: What in the hell is keeping from Danny submitting, his arm has got to be hanging by a thread!

 

Comet: Danny Williams submitted in his first and only title shot against Tom Flesher, and. I don’t think he could live with himself if he gave up in another World Title match.

 

Infuriated with Danny’s refusal to submit and make his victory perfect, Ejiro jerks him to his feet, and pops him with a couple of stiff elbows!

 

Crack! Crack! Crack!

 

Taking Williams by his wrist, Ejiro shoots him off the ropes with an Irish whip! Hanging on to Ejiro’s wrist, Williams plants his boots into the mat, and pulls the World Champion into a lethal short arm elbow smash!

 

CRACK!

 

Grabbing his head, Ejiro crumbles to the canvas like he’s out cold! Finally having something to cheer about, the crowd comes to life with a pretty big pop! Unable to capitalize just yet, Danny drops to a single knee, and begins frantically shaking his numb arm out in a desperate attempt to revive it.

 

Comet: The Champion is hurt, but so is Williams, who is smartly using this opportunity to get the feeling back in his arm, rather than push the attack.

 

Riley: You call that smart?! He has the Champion of the World laid out on his back, and he’s not even going for a cover!

 

Comet: But what if he pushes the attack, and ends up doing more damage to his arm?

 

Riley: That’s the price he’s gonna have to pay if he wants to be in the big time, he didn’t beat J.D. for the ICTV title by crying over his injured arm, now did he?

 

Somewhat coming to his senses, Fasaki sluggishly rolls to the outside, creating as much distance between himself and Danny as possible. Realizing that if he’s got to go back on offense now or never, Williams rushes to his feet, and sprints to the far side of the ring. Knowing what’s on Williams’ mind, the fans rise out of their chairs, and get their camera’s ready. Out on the floor, a blank faced Ejiro stumbles to his feet, when Danny Williams comes flying through the ropes like a human torpedo!

 

CRAAAAAAAACK!

 

With an unbelievable amount of impact, Williams crashes into Ejiro’s head with a sickening diving elbow! The momentum is so great that it sends Williams soaring over the guardrail, and into the laps of the startled front roll fans!

 

Comet: ELBOW SUICIDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

Riley: Maybe, Ejiro should have worked over the right arm?

 

Warming up considerably, the United Center bursts into a loud standing ovation! Gingerly climbing to his feet, Williams slithers his way over the steel barrier, and makes his away over to Ejiro. Grabbing the Champion by his hair, Williams winces as he drags him to his feet, and slings him on the ring apron. Still shaking his arm out, Williams slides back into the ring, reaches over the ropes, and positions Fasaki in a front facelock. Tossing Ejiro’s arm over his shoulder, Williams grabs a handful of tights, positioning him for a Vertical Suplex.

 

Comet: Super citizen Williams is preparing to bring Ejiro into the ring the hard way.

 

With a grunt, Danny painfully hoists Fasaki all the way up over his head! In one smooth motion, Williams drops back to the mat, splattering Ejiro across the canvas like road kill!

 

Boom!

 

Dusting himself off, Williams sneaks up behind Ejiro, helps him up by his tights, and clamps on a rear waistlock to the delight of the fans!

 

Comet: Williams is setting Ejiro up for the German!

 

Dipping his knees to the mat, Williams rips Fasaki off the mat, nearly given the fans a heart attack in the process! But before Danny can bridge back, Ejiro clamps his legs around him with a body scissors, and rolls forward, taking the challenger to the mat with a god like Victory Roll! The surreal counter predictably leaves the crowd awe struck!

 

Riley: Did you see that, I bet you Tom Flesher doesn’t even know that counter?

 

Instead of staying on Danny’s chest for the pin, Ejiro shockingly jumps to his feet! Grabbing the prone challenger’s arm, Fasaki drops to the mat, and scissors it for the deadly Cross Armbreaker!

 

Comet: JUJI-GATAME! JUJI-GATAME! Danny has tapped out to this hold before!

 

Wildly thrashing his legs about, Williams lets out a blood curdling scream as he struggles to make the sanctuary of the ropes! Knowing full and well that this could be the end, the fans jump out of their chairs with excitement! Trying his damndest to manually amputate Williams’ arm, Ejiro goes totally berserk, bouncing up and down, and growling like Linda Blair in the Exorcist! Despite the tendons in his arm threatening to tear like wet paper, Williams continues to display a strong willed “never say die” attitude. Like a running back battling for every square inch, Williams epically squirms his way to salvation! Getting hot, the United Center responds to the near submission with rumbling foot stomps!

 

Comet: HE MADE THE ROPES!

 

Riley: Williams must have a bionic arm or something, because there’s no way his arm should be able to withstand that type of punishment, and not be broken!

 

Refusing to release the hold, Ejiro tears at Williams’ arm like a hungry pit bull!

 

“Booooooooooooooooooooo!”

 

Not putting up with this shit, Soapdish gets all in Ejiro’s face, commanding that he release Williams at once! Knowing in the back of his mind that getting d.q.ed won’t earn him the respect he craves, Ejiro releases Williams’ mangled arm! Covered in his own saliva like a rapid dog, Ejiro manically pounds his fist into the mat, cursing Williams for not submitting!

 

Comet: To say that Ejiro is getting frustrated by Danny’s resilience would be a huge understatement. He’s brought an excellent game plan tonight, and executed perfectly, yet Williams’ heart will not let him quit.

 

Riley: Since Williams is stupid to realize he’s getting his arm ripped off, Ejiro needs to start working towards pin instead.

 

Grabbing Danny by his battered limp, Ejiro flips him off the ropes with a Judo throw, and to the horror of the fans goes right back to the Cross Armbreaker! Fortunately, Williams is ready for it this time! Slipping out of Ejiro’s clutches like grease lighting, Danny sucks up the throbbing pain in his arm, and scrambles to his feet! Not letting his wounded adversary escape so easily, Ejiro also rushes to his feet, only to be greeted by a brain rattling elbow smash!

 

Crack!

 

Ejiro shakes off effects of the stiff strike, and returns fire with a Roundhouse Kick....

 

Smack!

 

that finds it’s mark on Williams’ left arm! The pain in his arm freezes Williams up like a statue, allowing Ejiro to punt his appendage a second time!

 

Smack!

 

With Williams standing before him, totally helpless, Ejiro tries a third kick....

 

.....

 

that is caught! Quick to counter, Williams rocks Ejiro with a sharp back elbow smash to the temple!

 

CRACK!

 

Turning back to face Ejiro, Williams finds that he is wobbly and vulnerable! Showing no hesitation, Williams elegantly spins 360 degrees, firing his patent Rolling Elbow!

 

Swooooooooooooosh!

 

Ducking the knockout blow that he’s ate so many times before, Ejiro deflates Williams with a kick to the gut, doubling him over! Grabbing Danny’s arm, Ejiro slings his leg over the back of his neck in a Guillotine position!

 

Comet: Ejiro’s got Williams set up for his

 

Suddenly, Williams shoots his torso up, tossing the off balanced World Champion into the air! Athletically back flipping to his feet, Ejiro spins back at Williams, launching his deadly Screaming Elbow!

 

Swooooooooooooooosh!

 

Ducking under the lethal strike he knows all too well, Williams clamps his meaty arms around Ejiro’s small waist, and throws the junior heavyweight high over his head! Ejiro gets huge hang time, nearly traveling the entire length of the squared circle, before landing totally vertical on the back of skull!

 

CRUNCH!

 

Bouncing a good couple of inches off the mat, Ejiro does a complete flip flop in mid air, landing on his soft underbelly! Ejiro is dead, but the crowd isn’t! Pumped up by the fast paced exchange sequence, the hot United Center crowd erupts with a gargantuan pop!

 

Comet: HOLY BAZOOKA JOE COMICS, WHAT A RELEASE GERMAN!

 

Curled up in the fetal position, Williams stays on the mat, his face wrinkled with torment, while he tightly clinches his busted up arm. Tucking his arm into his chest, Williams slowly but surely crawls his way over to Ejiro, and with his good arm, hooks him up for the pin. The crowd heat is blistering as the fans count along with Soapdish!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! Ejiro reaches out, and grabs the bottom rope, forcing Soapdish to hault the count! Disappointed, the United Center lets out one big collective sigh.

 

Comet: The mark of a true Champion is ring awareness, an area which Ejiro has greatly improved in as of late.

 

Riley: Yeah, like when he used the ropes to pin Tom Flesher a couple weeks back. Brilliant wrestling!

 

Grabbing Ejiro by his hair, Williams snapmares him off the ropes, and bends the Champion’s arm back for the Buffalo Sleeper, while the fans lose their heads! Having had plenty of time to think of a counter since their last match, Ejiro grabs Williams by his head, and tosses him off with a snap mare of his own, quieting the crowd!

 

Riley: Williams may have beaten Ejiro with the Buffalo Sleeper last summer, but he isn’t gonna lock it on him again.

 

Rolling to the ropes, Williams climbs to his feet, and sets his sights on Ejiro. While he waits for Ejiro to get on his feet, Danny uses the top rope to stretch his wounded arm out. Fasaki cluelessly stumbles to his feet, prompting Danny to launch himself off the ropes at him! Ducking behind his teetering foe, Williams clamps on the dreaded Sleeperhold!

 

Wham!

 

Out of nowhere, Ejiro sits out, slamming Danny’s chin into this shoulder!

 

Comet: STUNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

Riley: A nice little move that Ejiro’s added to his arsenal long after his last match with Danny Williams!

 

Selling the stunner in low key fashion, Williams merely bounces over on his back, and brings his hands to his busted jaw! Looking for the flash pin, Ejiro scrambles atop Williams with a lateral press!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! Not stunned long enough, Williams kicks out in the nick of time! The near fall pops the crowd like a cheery on prom night! After popping his head a couple of times to clear the remaining cobwebs out, Ejiro drags Williams up by his arm, and wrenches it over his head for what appears to be another armbreaker!

 

Riley: It seems as if the Champion is gonna go back to work on Danny’s arm.

 

But in an unexpected twist, Ejiro snaps the arm around his head, and lifts Williams up on his shoulder!

 

Comet: No, he’s going for the Bridging Backdrop!

 

Haven tasted this neck snapping move before, Williams rolls through with the momentum, landing safely behind his attacker! Danny quickly snatches a rear waistlock, but Ejiro breaks it up with a swift reverse elbow!

 

 

Crack!

 

Free from Williams’ clutches, Ejiro acrobatically twists behind the challenger, and blasts his head with a skull cracking Enzuigiri! Glassy eyed and delirious, Williams aimlessly wobbles around on rubbery legs! Hurrying to his feet, Ejiro ducks behind the punch drunk challenger, hooks his leg, and snaps back!

 

CRUNCH!

 

With a beautiful high angle bridge, Fasaki holds Williams in place for the pin!

 

Comet: BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKDROP!

 

Riley: WHAT A SMART MOVE! THIS MAY BE IT, COMET!

 

The United Center holds it’s breath, while Soapdish counts away!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.....................

 

 

 

 

 

NO! Williams somehow kicks out! The crowd goes into hysterics, literally jumping up and down like maniacs!

 

Comet: Knowing from first hand experience how tough it is to make Danny submit, Ejiro decided to catch him off guard with a pin attempt instead. So now will Ejiro go back to the arm, or will he continue to work towards the pin?

 

Determined to finish Williams off once and for all, Ejiro aggressively drags him up to his feet. Fighting on instinct, Williams swipes away Fasaki’s hands, and pops him with a desperation elbow!

 

Crack!

 

Jumping in place like a mutant kangaroo, Ejiro drills Williams with an astounding standing drop kick! As if he just took a sledge hammer to the chest, Williams blows back into the ropes, grabbing his heart like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. Feeling snug, Ejiro confidently climbs to his feet..

 

CRAAACK!

 

when Danny obliterates him with one of the stiffest running elbows you’ll ever hear! Totally lifeless, Ejiro crumbles to the mat in a comatose state! Pleasantly surprised by the current turn of the events, the United Center explodes with a sonic blast of cheers and howls as Williams collapses atop the Champion for the flash pin!

 

Comet: THE CHAMPION’S OUT, AND WILLIAMS HAS GOT HIM COVERED! Remember fair citizens, Danny Williams won the ICTV title with a similar Running Elbow last Spring!

 

It would be impossible to even hear yourself think as Soapdish starts the count!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.................

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

 

NO, Ejiro kicks out, nearly causing the Chicago fans to riot in disgust! Suffering from a relaxed brain himself, Williams wearily rolls off the lobotomized Champion, unable to find the strength to even stand.

 

Riley: Danny may have won the ICTV with a fluke knock out, but he isn’t gonna win the World Title with a lucky shot!

 

Both men are down on their backs, while the molten hot crowd cheers on their favorite, who oddly enough is Danny Williams. The rumble of the crowd get’s louder and louder, threatening to shake the United Center apart! Showing signs of life, Ejiro begins to quietly stir, while Williams on the other hand, appears to be making better progress. So weak that every muscle in his body is trembling with strain, Williams crawls to the nearest corner, and with the assistance of the ropes, climbs to his feet. Charging up like a Dragon Ball Z character, Williams twitches like a mad man as he waits for Ejiro to join him at a vertical base!

 

Comet: Williams is sizing Ejiro up for something!

 

A bit bewildered by all the head trauma, Ejiro foolishly wanders to his feet, and to his horror spins around to find a screaming lunatic bolting out of the corner at him! There isn’t a person in the building who isn’t standing as Faskai stands helpless in the middle of the ring like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car!

 

Comet: HERE IT COMES!

 

With a big swing, Williams unleashes another big running elbow! Not falling for the same trick twice, Ejiro hits the deck, tripping Danny up with a drop toe hold! Quickly scissoring Williams’ left arm, Ejiro seamlessly applies the grounded Cobra Clutch to finally lock on his dreaded finisher! Still standing, the fans go crazy, fearing the worse!

 

Comet: THE COBRA CROSSFACE!

 

Riley: I think this may be the first time Ejiro’s ever successfully locked it on Williams!

 

Unable to scream from being choked by his own arm, Williams can only make a disturbing gurgling sound as he fights to stay consciousness! Not forgetting what brought him to the dance, Ejiro adds extra torque to the left arm, attempting to separate it from Danny’s shoulder with his powerful legs! This is hell, and Williams is only a tap away from relief!

 

Riley: This is it, Ejiro’s finally gonna have his big win over Danny Williams!

 

Showing their support, the crowd begins to dramatically chant,”DAN-E!” continuously! Purple faced from lack of oxygen, eyes watering from burning pain, Williams heroically battles on, pushing his way to the ropes with his only asset left, his legs! Riding Williams all the way, Ejiro shakes his head up and down as he works the hold for all it’s worth, but it’s not enough as Danny somehow makes the ropes! The crowd blows the roof off the United Center as an exhausted Ejiro releases Williams from his grasp.

 

Comet: Not even the most painful submission hold in the SWF can’t make Danny quit tonight!

 

Confused and frantic, Ejiro slams his fists into the mat in a childish temper tantrum! Unable to comprehend how this one man can survive his finishers time and time again, Ejiro snaps! Shoving Soapdish aside, Ejiro pounces on Williams as he lies in the ropes, and begins pounding his face with brutal forearms! Soapdish tries to restrain Fasaki, but get’s knocked on his ass for his trouble.

 

“Booooooooooooooooooooo!”

 

Not wanting to let a World title match end in a d.q., Soapdish shows some leaniancy, and lets the match continue.

 

Comet: This is no way for a World Champion to act!

 

Riley: Says who? This is what Ejiro should have been doing from the start of the bell!

 

Peeling the battered and bruised challenger off the mat, Ejiro scoops him up, and walks him into a corner. Fasaki sits Williams on the top turnbuckle, and signals to the crowd that it’s over! Climbing up on the second rope, a hungry eyed Ejiro hooks Williams up in a vertical suplex set up. Knowing what’s on Fasaki’s mind, the spell bounded fans watch on with their hearts in their throats.

 

Comet: Ejiro’s setting Danny up for the SUPER ORANGE CRUSHER, the move he beat Flesher with two weeks ago!

 

Riley: Fasaki is putting it all on the line in his quest to finally defeat Danny Williams, taking a big risk in using the deadliest and hardest to hit move in his arsenal.

 

The eyes of everyone in the building are glued to Ejiro as he attempts to execute the deadly avalanche finisher, but to their surprise, the challenger stubbornly hangs on to the ropes, refusing to budge! Not putting up with this shit, Ejiro releases Williams, and softens him up with some cringe inducing elbow smashes!

 

Crack! Crack! Crack!

 

After the strike flurry, Faskai repositions Williams, and lifts..............but again, the challenger still won’t move! Growing impatient, Ejiro wildly swings another elbow, but it’s blocked!

 

BLAM!

 

Danny counters with a rarely seen hard as hell punch, that leaves the World Champion seeing birdies!

 

Riley: Williams using a punch?

 

Comet: Just as Flesher did two weeks ago, it seems to be Ejiro’s kryponite!

 

Riley: I think punch hurt’s everybody, Comet.

 

Without further delay, Danny dives over the woozy Champion, catches him by the legs, and tears him off the turnbuckles! Landing perfectly on his feet, Williams slams Faskai down in front of him with a shocking, out of nowhere, earth shaking Powerbomb that leaves the crowd breathless!

 

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

 

The crowd noise reaches ear bleeding volumes as Williams leans over Ejiro, sliding down his folded corpse for the pin!

 

Riley: WHAT THE HELL?!

 

Comet: SUNSET FLIP INTO A POWERBOMB, BUT IS IT ENOUGH!

 

The United Center can’t believe their eyes as Soapdish slides to the mat, and starts the count!

 

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

.............

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

 

 

Soapdish calls for the bell, and all hell breaks lose!

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

It’s total pandemonium as the screaming Chicago fans jump out of their chairs in jubilation! Upon hearing the final bell, Williams rolls off of Ejiro’s remains, and briefly lies on his back in a state of shock, listening to the deafening howls of the thousands in attendance.

 

Comet: NEW CHAMPION! NEW CHAMPION! NEW CHAMPIOOOOOOON!!!

 

Floating streamers and confetti are flying everywhere, creating a party atmosphere not unlike the one in Times Square last week. Joining in on the fun, Dace and Janus come sprinting from the locker room, making their way to the ring!

 

Riley: This can’t be happening!

 

Comet: It is happening, Riley! Right here, live on national television, history has been made! More focused on defeating Williams than keeping the title, Ejiro took a big risk he didn’t have to take, and paid for it with the World Title!

 

Now in the ring, Dace and Janus help their weary stable leader get on his feet. To make the win official, Soapdish grabs Danny’s left wrist, but Williams defensively pulls it back, and opts that the ref raise his healthy arm instead. The official complies, raising Williams right arm in victory, and somehow, the crowd manages to raise the volume to an even higher level of sonic destruction!

 

Funyon: The winner of the match by pin fall, at 16 minutes and 21 seconds......AND NEW SWF WORLD CHAMPION................DANNY WILLIAMSsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss!!!

 

The belt keeper, you guessed it, hands the title over to Williams. Blue camera flashes hit Williams from all directions as he accepts the title with a nod! Letting the fans get a better look at their new champion, Dace and Janus carefully hoist Williams up on their shoulders in triumph! Enjoying the view, Williams proudly waves the heavy gold plated belt over his head like a flag, while the United Center chants,”DAN-E!” over and over again!

 

Comet: After nearly two years of struggle, Danny Williams has reached the apex of his career in capturing the SWF World Title!

 

Riley: Bah, his struggle has just started. It’s a lot easier to win a title, than it is to hold on to it.

 

Comet: I’m sorry fans, but we’re all out of time. Sweet heavens, what an incredible night!

[Kaertos 0]

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