the.weej 0 Report post Posted January 17, 2004 There is a buzz in the arena as everyone finds their seats... suddenly, the house lights darken and a voice booms, "Ladies and gentlemen! Would you please rise for our national anthem..." Everyone respectfully rises from their seats as a single spotlight shines down on Funyon. He clear his throat as music begins... "The way you're bathed in light reminds me of that night god laid me down into your rose garden of trust and I was swept away with nothing left to say some helpless fool yeah I was lost in a swoon of peace you're all I need to find so when the time is right come to me sweetly, come to me come to me Love will lead us, alright love will lead us, she will lead us can you hear the dolphin's cry? see the road rise up to meet us it's in the air we breathe tonight love will lead us, she will lead us Oh yeah, we meet again it's like we never left time in between was just a dream did we leave this place? this crazy fog surrounds me you wrap your legs around me all I can do to try and breathe let me breathe so that I so we can go together! Love will lead us, alright love will lead us, she will lead us can you hear the dolphin's cry? see the road rise up to meet us it's in the air we breathe tonight love will lead us, she will lead us Life is like a shooting star it don't matter who you are if you only run for cover, it's just a waste of time we are lost 'til we are found this phoenix rises up from the ground and all these wars are over over over singin' la da da, da da da over come to me come to me singin' la da da, da da da come to me Love will lead us, alright love will lead us, she will lead us can you hear the dolphin's cry? see the road rise up to meet us it's in the air we breathe tonight love will lead us, she will lead us Life is like a shooting star it don't matter who you are if you only run for cover, it's just a waste of time we are lost 'til we are found this phoenix rises up from the ground and all these wars are over over over over Love will lead us, alright love will lead us, she will lead us can you hear the dolphin's cry? see the road rise up to meet us it's in the air we breathe tonight love will lead us, she will lead us love will lead us, alright love will lead us, she will lead us love will lead us, alright love will lead us, she will lead us..." Everyone applauds for Funyon's rousing version of Live's "The Dolphin's Cry," as we cut away to... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted January 17, 2004 *BOOM* After the intro to Storm fades, fireworks illuminate the stage in Miami, Florida, the crowd cheering as pyro after pyro explodes, quickly filling the air with smoke. As the last firework erupts, however… NO! NO! NOTORIOUS! There is no opportunity to take a look at the fine live crowd in the American Airlines Arena as Spineshank’s “Synthetic” kicks in and the crowd immediately begins to boo The Notorious One John Duran, who emerges from the curtain with a smug look on his face. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to SWF Storm, Cylcone Comet alongside Bobby Riley,” Comet lets out a sigh, “but I’m afraid John Duran has something to say to kick off the show.” “You’re damn right,” Bobby responds in agreement, “and it’s about time! We’ve been waiting for some time to learn which title he’ll be going for ever since earning the title shot at the Fight Before Christmas!” Wearing his ‘7 Deadly Sins’ t-shirt and long black tights, Duran walks down to the ring, ignoring the outstretched middle fingers. He steps up onto the apron and moves through the ropes, moving to the center of the ring and simply looking out over the crowd as he moves towards a corner, asking for a microphone from Funyon. “Well, hello Miami!” Duran’s cheery greeting gets a cold response, as fans wave middle fingers in the air directed at the Illinois native. “I must say, these past few weeks have been very, very good to the Unnamed cause!” The crowd still doesn’t like a word coming out of Duran’s mouth, the booing getting louder so to try and drown out Duran. “Charlie Matthews recently won the United States Title and the Intercontinental Television Title, Va’aiga picked up a huge victory over the so-called Superior One—“ The fans interrupt Duran with cheers at the mention of Tom Flesher, but Duran just shakes his head. “And later tonight, the Unnamed will have the chance to take those tag belts off of Justice and Rule, and since I’ll be wrestling in that match tonight, you can bet that Va’aiga and I will be shooting for the stars!” The crowd boos and boos, and then finds something else to do with their mouths as they begin a small chant that works its way around the entire arena. “DUR - AN SUCKS ASS!” CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP “DUR - AN SUCKS ASS!” “I’M NOT DONE YET, YOU COKE-SNORTING DIMWITS!” Duran’s voice booms out over the crowd’s chant, and the crowd notices a change in Duran’s mood as they return to booing. “That’s just a popular stereotype of Miami, Bobbo, I rid Florida of cocaine months ago.” “That’s nice, Comet.” Duran continues as the banter from the announcers ends. “On December 16th, I EARNED a shot at any title I wanted. I beat Stryke, Johnny Dangerous and Annie Onita—“ The crowd pops and Duran changes gear. “You fans cheer for Annie Onita, but have you there in TV land seen her since I smashed her face against the grill of a PT Cruiser with my knee?” The crowd is silenced and quickly turns to boos as Duran regains his smile, “I didn’t think so. Anyway, I earned a shot at any title, the Hardcore Title, the United States Title, the Intercontinental Television Title...and I’ve been thinking about it since. Finally, I’ve reached a decision.” The crowd’s boos have lessened so to allow them to hear Duran’s announcement. “On the very last show before the next SWF PPV, yours truly, The Notorious One John Duran—“ boos, “—will take on the Hardcore Champion Terrence Bailey!” “Janus,” Riley exclaims, “that’s one of the men in the big tag showdown tonight for the SWF Tag Team Titles!” The fans erupt in cheers at the mention of the Trinity members’ name, and Duran nods. “You all will see what I can do when there are no rules, and you will all come to accept me as a wrestler worthy of ANY title, INCLUDING the World Title! Now hit my music, I have a match to prepare for!” The crowd boos as Duran motions to go over to Funyon and give him back his microphone… CRACK …and then the crowd goes NUTS. “GRAND SLAM!” “Go Home” by Blessid Union of Souls brings the Miami fans to life, as Duran looks on, surprised as Grand Slam comes out of the back, appearing under the SmarkTron video that shows baseball highlights and big moments in the Heavy Hitter’s career. “Grand Slam Mark Stevens is here, Bobbo! The Commish has arrived!” “Well, he never left, Comet,” Riley responds, with an obvious lack of interest. “Go Home” continues to play until Mark Stevens raises the microphone to his lips, but Duran interrupts him. “Ah, Mark, did you come to confirm my match for Smarkdown on the 26th?” “What?” Mark seems somewhat confused, and then remembers, “Oh, yes. You’ve got the match. I just haven’t exactly been thinking about Smarkdown on the 26th.” “Then do tell, Mark, since you’re the commish and you have the right to interrupt my time for this. What are you thinking about.” “I’m more thinking about Lockdown on the 8th, John.” “Of January? Well, that’s the show where—“ “Someone ruined my office,” Grand Slam interrupts, getting boos from the crowd members who remember the carnage of Grand Slam’s office. “Right. Well, why did you come out to talk about it now? It’s been a good two weeks—“ “Just be quiet, John, let me speak.” The fans cheer Stevens’ second interruption of Duran, and John gives Stevens an evil stare but lowers the microphone to his hip as Stevens continues. “Now, as you probably know, there is a security camera that is always in my office no matter what arena I’m in. Since we’re always on the move and busy, we get the tapes from the security camera about three or four weeks late. Of course, since this was a special situation, I demanded to see the tapes from Lockdown to see who had done such a thing to my locker room.” The fans are abuzz and neither cheer nor boo as Stevens goes on. “Let me just show you and all the fans watching us here this tape. Let’s let it speak for itself.” Grand Slam stops speaking and turns his back to Duran, looking up at the SmarkTron along with the Notorious One as the SWF Storm image is replaced by security footage. The footage looks digitally altered for more clarity, as it appears to be crystal clear. Also, Grand Slam’s office is looking very spiffy… …and then the door opens. The jet black hair is recognizable almost immediately as Duran comes through Grand Slam’s office door. Duran kicks through the glass display case in Grand Slam’s office, taking the first of The Heavy Hitter’s two bats and turning to the potted plants with a wicked smile on his face— “Alright, that’s enough, pause it right there,” Stevens talks, and the production crew in the back pauses the image on the screen, the crowd booing as they see the face of Duran, but the Notorious One shows no reaction. “That message on the answering machine threw me off, John. I thought it was Va’aiga. But I had to know for sure. And wouldn’t you know it, it was you, John.” There is a silence that is only filled by the boos from the crowd towards Duran, the crowd once again waving their middle fingers in the air, showing Duran nothing but disrespect as Duran raises the microphone up from his hip finally. “Well, how about that. You caught me!” The crowd continues to boo even louder as Duran confesses. “But, you know, it was a lot of fun! Your bats have some nice pop in them, they’re just not too terribly durable is all.” Grand Slam seems to be filling with a slight anger as he watches Duran, who is smiling through it all. “I should’ve let Va’aiga get a shot or two in, but he was busy so I decided to take care of everything myself.” Another pause, some members of the crowd begin the chant but Duran cuts it off, “I can see you’re somewhat angry, Mark. Tell me, what are you going to do about it?” “Well, John,” Grand Slam speaks with a slight tone of annoyance and frustration towards the Notorious One, “I might just have to suspend you.” The crowd pops HUGE at this, and Duran’s smile fades as he just stares at Stevens. The smile turns into a frown and Duran looks quite a bit more angry than Stevens. “WHAT THE HELL DID I DO? HOW CAN YOU SUSPEND ME FOR RUINING YOUR POOR LITTLE OFFICE?” “Listen, John, first off, don’t yell at me—“ “NO, I’LL YELL ALL I WANT, *BEEP* DAMNIT!” The crowd continues to boo, but this time Duran is drowning THEM out. Duran takes a breath, trying to calm himself. “You know, Mark, your actions now remind me of someone. I don’t remember him too fondly, since I never saw him that much, but I think you know who he is.” Mark listens attentively as Duran finishes. “KING.” “Oh my,” is all that Comet can say. Some members of the crowd “OOH” at the mention of the former commissioner’s name, and Stevens looks visibly pissed again. He immediately begins to speak. “Don’t you dare compare me to him, he’s half the commissioner I am today!” “Oh, I completely agree,” Duran says, now smiling smugly at taking control of the conversation. “but it just seems like a King thing to suspend someone over something so trivial.” The crowd boos, not liking any of this. Stevens takes a breath himself and calmly speaks. “Fine, John. You’re still on the roster. But I’m watching you, John. One slipup and I’ll deal with you appropriately. And that…” “…my friends…” the crowd helps The Heavy Hitter. “is a damn promise,” Stevens finishes, and the crowd cheers Grand Slam as he returns to the back to tend to SWF business. “Yeah, sure,” Duran responds sarcastically, and the crowd seems ready to boo themselves right out of the American Airlines Arena. “Now, can SOMEONE hit my damn music?” “Synthetic” finally fires up, and the crowd matches the song with boos, as Duran gives the microphone back to Funyon and leaves the ring, heading back up the ramp. “Well, it looks like Duran will live to see another match later tonight.” “Yes, and he’s got a match on the 26th against Citizen Bailey for the Hardcore Title!” “It should be exciting stuff, Comet, but right now we’ve got a United States Title Match on the way! The Grappler defends against Mike Van Siclen and Linchpin, it’s a triple threat match, and it’s next after the break!” Fade to commercials. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted January 17, 2004 Card: Triple Threat Match for the US Title Charlie "Grappler" Matthews© vs. Linchpin vs. Mike Van Siclen Charlie Matthews became the most recent double champion not to long ago, winning the ICTV and US Titles. Well, that sits poorly with Linchpin. This is perhaps understandable as the Mafia Man last held the US Title. Well, tonight he aims to change that and to get some revenge over the plodding and boring if effective style of the Grappler. Throw in the newly rejuvenated MVS with his TWO straight wins over HVT, and you can see that the US Title is more hotly contested than ever! Four Corners Tag Match for the SWF Tag Team Titles Justice and Rule© (William Hearford and Ejiro Fasaki) vs. Wild and Dangerous (Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous) vs. the Unnamed (any two members) vs. the Unholy Trinity (any two members) To say that there is a depth of talent available for the Tag Titles now would be an understatement. Justice and Rule have not defended their title for awhile as the individual members of the team have been wrapped up in singles pursuits. MAIN EVENT Singles Match for the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation World Heavyweight Title "Deathwish" Danny Williams© vs. "The King of Nightmares" Michael Craven Williams cemented his claim to the championship by beating the former champion, Ejiro Fasaki, in his contractually mandated rematch. One would think Danny might get a week off. But no! There is one more person who won a claim to the title, and he wants his chance NOW. Michael Craven thinks he can take advantage of Williams' relative newness to the World Title, and the King of Nightmares is nothing if not an opportunist! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted January 17, 2004 (edited) Storm kicks off straight away, not wasting any time, as the crowd is HOT for the SWF! They jump out of their seats at the mere sight of Funyon, who stands in the center of the ring, awaiting the arrival of the participants… The melodically opening notes to Andrew W.K.'s "Ready to Die" play over the speakers, for about ten seconds, until the drums drop in... ”Boom… Boom…” “BOOM!” Three blasts of white pyro go off and Van Siclen emerges through the third one, a wide grin across his face as he begins to walk down the ramp way, too focused to acknowledge the fans at this point. Siclen slides into the ring, as Funyon begins to shout… “The following match is a THREE WAY MATCH and it is for the SWF UNITED STATES CHAMPIONSHIP! Introducing first, from Harrison Illinois, standing six foot four, and weighing in at two hundred and thirty one pounds… he is the Spectacle… he is the Amazin’ One… he is, MIKE VAAAAAAAAAN SICLLLLLEEEENNNNNNNNNN!” Mike nods his head approvingly; pleased with the reaction he’s receiving. If he can topple Thugg, he thinks to himself, he can take on anyone… “Citizen Siclen has been on quite a roll since his surprise return a month ago, claiming TWO wins over The HVille Thugg, and it seems as so the Amazin’ One is finally coming out of his shell.” “And about damn time too. I’ve been waiting for too long, but now it’s Mike’s time to shine!” Looking towards the entranceway, Van Siclen awaits Linchpin, his smile growing as he confidence does… … Before the show can continue though, the boys in the back have trouble controlling the picture reception, as it begins to distort, becoming fuzzy and overcome with static. Suddenly, a familiar voice comes through the PA… “…There is nothing wrong with your television set…” The crowd rises to their feet, almost in shock. Comet is speechless, “Robert, this, but I didn’t think he was coming back…” “…Do not attempt to adjust the picture…” “Neither did I Comet, neither did I! But I don’t care, he’s back!” “…I will control the horizontal…. I will control the vertical….” … “…I am controlling transmission…” … The picture returns too normal shortly after. Before Andrew Blackwell walks out, the lights recede, not into complete darkness, but very near to, and ‘Lycia’ by Tainted begins to play, softly, at the same time. Spotlights situated to the side of the ramp way, all along the side turn on Blackwell and follow him as he walks slowly before getting to ringside as if he were a disciple. Funyon fumbles with his cards, but can’t find Blackwell’s anywhere, obviously indicating this is not a scheduled appearance. He retains his composure, and settles into his rhythm, having announced Sacred many a time before… “And… HIS OPPONENT! From Adelaide, Australia. Standing Six foot one, and weighing two hundred and twenty eight pounds… he is the Sacred One, he is… ANDREW BLACKWEEEEELLLLLLLLL!” The crowd, although surprised, begin to boo the hell out of the man from Oz, making sure his return is not a welcome one. He ignores them however, staring at Mike with his piercing eyes. Mike backs away a little, as surprised as everyone by the reappearance of this former United States Champion. “Well, this certainly throws a spanner in the works!” shouts Comet. “Grappler and Siclen were expecting former United States Champion Linchpin to be out here, but instead, a former WORLD champion is out here, in the form of Citizen Blackwell!” “This will definitely throw each man off of his game. They study tapes, they plan to focus on their opponents weaknesses and protect their own; now, that is all for nought!” replies Riley. Sacred grins, warming up, keeping to himself, as the fans will not stop booing! They continue to do so as the light go out and the first guitar riff of Metallica's "Some Kind of Monster" hits. As the lyrics kick in, a single spotlight shines on the entryway, as Matheson walks out, taunting the crowd. He stops and turns back to the entryway and Grappler finally walks out, intently focused on the ring. He wears the US title around his waist proudly, but truth be told, he fumbles slightly, not sure how to approach this match now… “Grappler and Van Siclen have had a tough program the last few weeks…” notes Riley. “Now they have to contend with not only each other, but Sacred as well!” Funyon gets on the mic once more, “And last but certainly not least… from Kansas City, Missouri. Standing six foot seven, and weighing in at three hundred and one pounds, he is the current reigning United States Champion… he is, CHARLIE “THE GRAPPPLLLEEEERRRR” MAAAATTTHHHEEEWWWWSSSS!” Matthews unhooks his United States title, looking over to Matheson who encourages him, telling him to keep his eyes on the prize. The referee hands it to a ring attendant, and then points to the time keeper… “DING! DING! DING!” While Grappler turns his head to the side for just a second, peering over his shoulder at his former tag team partner, Blackwell makes his move, driving his knee into Charlie’s stomach, pinning him against the turnbuckles. His adrenalin burning, Sacred rams himself against Grappler’s midsection, driving the air out of the bug lug. Mike decides he wants a piece of the action, and takes hold of Blackwell, his arms gripping him around the waistline. Van Siclen attempts to lift him, but Blackwell blocks easily enough and lands back on his feet. He immediately charges forward, throwing himself onto the top rope, giving it a bug hug, which causes Mike to lose his grip and roll backward. Regaining a firm foothold once again, Mike darts towards The Sacred One, but is suddenly lifted from the earth and thrown over the top rope! The Spectacle lives up to his name, showing his superior balance by landing on the ring apron. Siclen tries to surprise Sacred as he pivots around but his shoulder tackle hits nothing but air, as Blackwell leaps into the air, his hands gripping onto the top rope. He turns his body in mid-air, connecting with a leg drop across the back of Van Siclen’s head! A cry resonates from the crowd, who cringe as they see Mikey tangled in the strands. Recovering from the early brazen barrage, Grappler frowns, and, spurred on by Matheson, charges out of the corner, ripping Blackwell’s head off with a powerful Lariat! “What a way to kick off this match!” exclaims Cyclone with great enthusiasm. “Citizen Sacred, fresh off a few months absence from the federation, showed a real drive, a real spring to his step early. But the dastardly and devious Matthews soon asserted his presence in this match, showing off his brutish strength.” “Brutish sounds –soooo- derisive…” complains Bobby. “It’s true power, Comet, true power. He isn’t awed by the return of Blackwell whatsoever. To him, Sacred is simply another slippery stepping-stone. Slippery, because, you know, he’s washed up and all.” “Oh Contraire, silly sailor, because unlike you, he has yet to be relegated to commentary duties, now -that’s-washed up!” “…I just made myself very, very sad,” whimpers Comet. Grappler attempts a quick pinning predicament… ONE! But Van Siclen makes his presence felt with a forearm to break it up. Mikey drags Blackwell to his feet, slapping the taste out of his mouth and kicking him in the gut, hard, before sending him into the ropes with an Irish whip. As Blackwell returns, Mike hooks his arm between his legs and flips him over, slamming him down in a split second with a snap Powerslam. Having gained a measure of revenge, Mike gets to his feet to continue the hurting, but Grappler soon appears with a forearm club to the back of his head. Reaching underneath his former tag partner, Mathews heaves Van Siclen into the air, and then drops him back down quickly on his extended knee with an Inverted Atomic Drop! His nether regions feeling the pinch and his guard down, Van Siclen is lifted into the air once again in much the same fashion, but this time, Grappler slams him down in a seated position, and at the same time, using Mike to give Sacred a leg drop! Riley points to his man and shouts, “Now –that- is true ring smarts my friend! Charlie Matthews has impressed me so much the last month, showing he has all the ingredients, dare I say it, of a world champion in the making!” “Pure poppycock I say!” comes the fierce objection from Comet. “He’s still ‘Show’ to me. He’s still a big silly goof who bores me to tears! On that point for just a second, Grappler won’t have the time for his usual game plan which involves, stalling, stalling and more stalling. There’s –three- men in that ring, and if he doesn’t watch himself, he could be blindsided so easily!” “Pshaw, Comet! Like a ring general such as him could be blindsided. You’ll see his true abilities come out in this match as he breaks out of his ‘tag team’ mold by beating his former tag team partner! And a former World Champion to boot!” “Uhm, Robert, Mike Van Siclen wasn’t Quiz, just the guy who wrote both characters…” “Uh, what…?” Grappler drops to his knees and hooks Mike by the leg… ONE! T-But Sacred dives across and knocks Matthews away with a well-placed forearm. While Van Siclen takes five, Blackwell and Grappler square off as they both get up, only now beginning to warm up. Grappler, knowing Blackwell’s precise and calculated style stands tall, in position to defend his neck. They stalk each other around the ring before Blackwell makes a quick, darting move towards his head, which causes Grappler to flinch. His arms instantly go up to defend himself, but Blackwell fakes him out, nailing him in the knee with a seated dropkick! His leg taken out from underneath him, Grappler drops to one knee, but before Sacred can capitalize; he climbs back to two feet. He shakes his head and laughs, telling Sacred that he won’t be taken for a fool like that again. Suddenly, Van Siclen appears from behind, and, with one fowl swoop, takes the big man down with a reverse neckbreaker! This garners cheers from the fans as they watch Grappler roll towards the ropes, Matheson there to help him by yellin’ and hollerin’. Mikey climbs to his feet, knowing better than to focus on Grappler with Blackwell standing not three feet away. Keeping his momentum going, Mike tries a spinning wheel kick, and connects! Blackwell is forced back into the corner, a determined Mike Van Siclen staring him right in the face as he begins to rear back, and the fans begin to react… “WWWWWHOO!” The fans cry out as Mike connects with a hard knife-edge chop! “WHOO! WHOO! WHOO!” Siclen continues his assault, turning Blackwell’s chest beet red before taking him by the hand and whipping him across the ring. Mike soon follows him in, but is surprised suddenly as Blackwell slips down to the mat and hits him with a drop toe hold, slamming his face into the top turnbuckle! The fans voice their universal disapproval as Blackwell points to his head, even going as far to strut for the fans he’s ‘missed’ so much. This show of pageantry is soon broken up however, as Matthews grabs Sacred by the shoulder and spins him around, reaching between his legs and lifting him up for a Body Slam! Grappler takes his foe across to the turnbuckles and throws Blackwell against Van Siclen, draping over him with a Tree of Woe! With both his opponents in precarious predicaments, Grappler takes quick and decisive advantage by taking Blackwell’s legs and tying them together, tightening them like a noose around Mike’s neck! “Unique offense shown by Matthews! There’s three men in that ring, and the one who can combine their offense to topple both their opponents will take this out for sure!” The referee soon interjects, counting “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Let him go, Matthews!” Grappler takes a few more seconds to ask to referee why he has to let go, at the same time, continuing to choke the life out of Siclen. He finally lets go as the fans let out of torrent of boos, but that simply makes the big man smile as he slowly steps back, lowering his head and spearing Blackwell in the midsection! The Sacred One falls out of the turnbuckles and rolls away to safety as Mike stumbles out, swooped on by the Grappler who lifts him into the air, taking a firm grip of his ankle and dropping it down across his knee! Riley notes, “smart work from Charlie, knowing Mike’s legs are his one weak point, and he will try to exploit that at every turn.” Hopping on one leg, it’s not long before Van Siclen is seized by Matthews once more, who takes him into the air, and over with a vertical Suplex! Mike slams against the mat hard but has no time to lick his wounds, as Grappler now feels safe enough to take his time, forgoing the pin to instead take Siclen by the legs and turning Mike over onto his stomach. The three hundred pounder then sits all his weight on top of Mike as he begins to wrench back on both legs with a Boston Crab! Try as he might, Mike simply cannot get away with Grappler sitting on top of him! The torture continues, but the crowd suddenly rise to the feet as there is movement behind Grappler, but he doesn’t know what. Flying from the top rope, Blackwell somersaults through the air, taking Matthews by the neck and yanking him down to the mat face first! Even the crowd has a hard time not popping for that move as Blackwell scrambles across to hook Graps by the leg! “WOW!” screams Comet. “Beautiful work from fair Citizen Sacred, showing his shedding of pounds has added to his high flying capabilities, combining that with his ever strong ring presence that allowed him to surprise Matthews!” ONE! TWO! But Van Siclen affects the save! Blackwell rolls away, climbing back to his feet as Van Siclen does so too, with a slight limp of course. Sacred takes Mike by that same leg and snaps him over with a Dragon Screw. Working with haste, Blackwell ties Mike’s legs into knots, making the figure four, and sitting upright! “The Deprogrammer!” cries Comet. “Blackwell is playing it smart here, focusing on both men’s weak points to keep them down, but here comes citizen Matthews from behind!” Sacred has no time to duck and is suddenly caught with a wild clothesline from the Big Man! Blackwell falls to the mat, yanking back on Mike’s legs as he does so! The Spectacle cries out in pain as Blackwell is forced to let go, but the damage has been done. Grappler takes advantage of his opponents while they’re down, pulling Blackwell onto his feet. An Irish whips sends Blackwell into the ropes, and as he returns he is knocked out cold, flat on his back by a Big Boot from Grappler! Matthews dives onto all fours and covers… ONE! TWO! But Blackwell kicks out after the count of two! Matheson spurs on his charger, while berating the crowd as they jeer the bug brute. Grappler pays little attention, consolidating on his position as he lifts Blackwell onto his feet. Grappler takes Sacred by the hand once more, whipping him into a short arm clothesline! But the Sacred One ducks underneath the wild blow. Matthews immediately spins around, showing more urgency than ever before. He lifts Blackwell up from behind, ready for a back drop Suplex, but Sacred flips out of the move, and lands on his feet behind the Grappler! Slinking his arms around Grapplers waistline, Sacred steadies himself, licks his arms together, and heaves Matthews from the mat, falling onto his back, nailing Grappler with a German Suplex! Sacred hangs on for dear life, keeping the big man down for the pin as he bridges out! ONE! TWO! T – But Mike makes the save, leaping on top of Grappler and breaking up the pin with a Senton to Matthews! Mike immediately moves into a cover! ONE! TWO! But Blackwell breaks that up with a simple boot to Siclen’s head. Sacred lifts Van Siclen to his feet, nailing him with a few stiff forearms. The Sacred One whips Mike into the turnbuckles, following him in with a flying forearm to the jaw! As Mike slumps against the turnbuckles, Blackwell lifts him up onto the top rope, climbing up to meet him face to face. Mike valiantly tries to fight back with lefts and rights, but Blackwell clubs him with elbows to daze and confuse him. The crowd gasps as Blackwell locks Mike into position, ready for a Superplex. Suddenly, Matthews makes his way over, taking Blackwell in a Powerbomb position. With one mighty heave, Grappler lifts Blackwell up and over, who takes Van Siclen with him, nailing him with a Superplex, but getting nailed with a vicious Powerbomb from Matthews! The crowd pops loudly as Matthews climbs to his feet, wondering which opponent to actually pin. He dives onto all fours and hooks Mike by the leg, while clutching at his neck… ONE! TWO! THR – NO! “Simply beautiful!” cries Comet. “All three men were involved there, but only Matthews escaped unharmed! This would be the perfect time to try for a pin, with both his opponents down, they couldn’t stop him!” Van Siclen kicks out, much to the crowd’s delight! Matthews slams his fist on the mat, complaining the referee, slapping his hands together three times, but the referee remains defiant. Grappler climbs to his feet, determined to finish this as quickly as possible. Matthews lifts Van Siclen to his feet, high above his shoulders, ready for a Powerbomb… But from behind comes Blackwell, leaping from the top rope and connecting with a dropkick to Mike’s jaw! Van Siclen plummets to the mat while Grappler stumbles for a split second, giving Blackwell enough time to hook Grappler in a Body scissors and pull him down to the mat with a Kidou Clutch pin! ONE! TWO! THREE! Sacred gets the hell out of dodge as Mike’s desperate lunge comes a second too late. Funyon gets on the mic to announce… “The winner of this match and the… NEW! S – W – F UNITED STATES CHAMPION… ANDREW BLACKWELL!” “Citizen Sacred came through by the narrowest of margins!” cries comet. “But all credit to him, he ended this quickly and surprised Grappler and Siclen before they even knew what was going on!” “Yes! I wasn’t rooting for Grappler at all, I was confident Blackwell would pull through and he did! Only one match back and he has claimed the United States Championship, but, like all other titles in his career, can he hold on to it long enough to solidify his place in history…?” “If his history with the United States title is any indication, he may just have a long, successful run, if his mind is on the business at hand, that is.” The referee runs up the ramp, handing Blackwell his title. Sacred smiles, but exits through the back without any celebration, as Mike van Siclen and Charlie Matthews look on in despair, while Matheson cries fowl! “We’ll return after this break with a tag team match of monumental proportions! So don’t go away!” And we fade out… Edited January 17, 2004 by Grand Slam Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted January 17, 2004 “Welcome back to SWF Storm, THIS is Ben Hardy!” smiles the resident punching bag of everyone in the SWF as he stands in the middle of the parking lot. “It is my task for this evening to introduce all of you to the newest SWF superstar. Now he asked me to meet him at his home, but … also asked me to meet him in the parking lot?” Ben looks at the note card in his hand and looks into the camera, “Is this right?” “That’s the information I was given Ben,” answers the unseen cameraman. “Blue Section… he said we couldn’t miss it.” “Huh. Well… there’s no one… oh hell.” Something catches Ben’s eye and he points out of the view of the camera, “You don’t think?” “In this business?” “Good point. Let’s go.” Together Ben and his faithful assistant spin their eyes towards a rather … colorful RV parked in the middle of the lot. Painted bright orange with a confederate flag painted on the side and a pair of bullhorns on the front, this RV is the only thing in the entire fleet of cars that is actually lit up. Knowing just what business he works in, Ben makes the immediate leap of faith and makes his way over to the side of the bus and gives it a hardy rap on the side door. KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! “Yeah?” comes an uncouth feminine voice from inside the RV as the door comes flinging open. “Aw hell. COY! The film crew from COPS is back again!” Standing there with a cigarette in her hands and a pair of curlers in her hair stands the furrowed brow of an actually somewhat attractive woman in her mid twenties. Ben tries to stammer, “I’m…” “Just a second officer…” the girl says with a half a smile, “COY! GOD DAMNIT!” An unseen voice comes from inside the trailer; “I’m a coming! Keep your pants on girl! You are wearing pants right?” “This isn’t about me COY!” “Damn girl,” mouths the voice of a rather rat-like man who slides into the doorway of the trailer. “Hey! You ain’t a local cop. Did I do somethin’ Federal?” “I’m Ben Hardy?” “No kiddin’! Vera, this is about the job I got!” “Ah hell, Coy,” smiles the girl. “I didn’t know this was gonna be such a great job! Look at your boss, wearing a suit and everything!” “Excuse me?” Vera continues to gush, “And he’s SO POLITE!” ”Hell Vera,” yelps Coy happily, “This ain’t the boss! This is Ben Hardy! Come on in Ben. Vera will fix you a iced tea.” “Uh thanks,” says Ben as his hosts give him a helping hand into the RV. “You too son,” calls Coy out to the camera man, “plenty of tea to go around! What’s your name?” “Reggie…” mouths the cameraman. “High Reggie!” calls out Vera from inside the trailer. Following Ben Hardy into the RV, the cameraman is brought into the ‘dining room’ of the camper and sat next to Hardy. Plopping down opposite of the two men, Coy smiles warmly if not brightly as Ben takes a look around the camper at the assorted rifles and fish adorning the walls of the camper. “Uh nice place,” mouths Ben Hardy as he mentally replays every scene from Deliverance. “Like it? I call it the S. S. General Lee Jr. Painted it myself!” “Here’s your tea guys,” says Vera as she places the tea in front of the three men. “Coy, I am going to go check in with the kids while you all talk about business. Kay pudding?” “Sure thing doll,” smiles Coy as Vera heads towards the back of the RV and through a door. “Like her?” questions Coy. “Got a sister that looks just like her! Not as smart though.” “Uh,” Ben pauses at the thought of an actual date. “Ah don’t worry about that son,” laughs Coy, “you don’t need to answer right now.” “Well I guess we better get on with the interview, Mr. West.” “Man you are polite!” laughs Coy as he scratches underneath his stained T-shirt. “You kin call me Coy though … as long as I can call you Ben.” “Sure.” “I like you son, you’re good people.” “Thanks,” says Ben as he waits for some sort of insult. “You’re welcome.” “So… what do you have in mind for the SWF?” “What do you mean?” “What are your goals?” “Oh! My goals are to fight a lot, not get arrested for it, and make money doing it.” “Any wrestler out there you want to face?” “Naw. I don’t know any of them guys! How can I be all riled about some dudes I ain’t even met? I’ll fight who I fight and that will be that.” “You know. Normally I only have to ask one of those questions and it becomes a three hour monologue.” “People have a lot to say about nothing then.” Coy scratches his head. “Ever do any fishing?” “What?” “Fishing. You know with a stick and worms?” “…” “You were out of questions.” “We now send you back to the Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley….” “How about you Reggie?” “I do some deep sea fishing…” “You mean for MARLINS! Whoo! You the MAN Reggie!” ----------------------Fade out--------------------------- Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted January 17, 2004 “LET FREEDOM RING WITH A SHOTGUN BLAST!” BOOOOM!! The stage explodes with a pyrotechnic burst as the erratic, brutal sound of Machinehead's "Davidian" THUNDERS across the American Airlines Arena, signaling the entrance of the Unholy Trinity as the show returns from commercial break! “Welcome back to SWF Storm, Citizens,” bellows the voice of our masked Commentator. “We are back here live, and it looks like the Unholy Trinity is wasting absolutely no time getting this match started!” “A little too eager for an ass-whooping if you ask me,” adds Riley, trying his hardest to make his voice audible over the Miami crowd, which roars with delight upon the sight of Dace Night and Terrance Bailey’s overbearing figures emerging onto the stage. From inside the ring, Funyon raises the microphone to his lips to begin his introductions. "Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a Four Corner’s Elimination Tag Team match for the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation’s World Tag Team Championship! Making their way to the ring at this time, at a total combined weight of 612 pounds… first, the High Priest of Horrorcore, Dace…" FUCKING! "… NIGHT," continues Funyon. "And the SWF Hardcore Champion, The 'Anti-Heel Machine,' TERRRRRRRENCE "Janus" BAIIILEY! The UNHOOOOOLY TUUUUH-RINITY!" “The presence of Dace Night and Terrance Bailey is sure to be felt here tonight,” says Comet. “These two will stop at nothing short of trying to become the next tag team champions!” “I think they’ve already been stopped... twice,” quips Riley. “Not only did these two clowns loose on Smarkdown, but they also lost on Lockdown to Wild and Dangerous! A match for the number one contender to the SWF Tag Team Championship... a match they lost... yet here they stand... why?” “Well, I really don’t think this match has any thing to do with title shots, Bobby,” says Comet. “Commissioner Stevens just wanted to give each and everyone of us a special treat, and here it is tonight... and it just so happens to be for the Tag Team Titles!” “What a crock of (bleep),” says Bobby. “You're just trying to cover for Stevens and the piss poor job he’s doing as being Commissioner. I guess if you’re buddies with ‘Grand Spam,’ even loosing contender’s matches don’t keep you from getting a title shot!” Inside the ring, the two men head to a corner for a last minute strategy conference as the house lights fade into a pale blue hue. “BULLET THE BLUE SKY!” Sepultra’s “Bullet the Blue Sky” begins to churn out from the speakers, instantly sparking a ruthless chorus of boo’s from the crowds. Momentarily concealed by the darkness, two more figures saunter onto the ramp. When the lights go back up, the snarling faces of The Maori Badass and John Duran are revealed so all of Miami can marvel at the awesome sight... or at least have a better chance at hitting their targets as they lob piece after piece of trash! “Entering second,” says Funyon, “at a total combined weight of 577 pounds, and being accompanied by James Matheson... ‘The Notorious One’ JOHHHHHHN DURAAAN, and his partner, The MAOOOOOOORI BADASS, VA-UN-GUH!! THE UUUUUUNNAAAAMED!!” With his ice-cold eyes locked onto both members of the Unholy Trinity, Va’aiga clears the path for the Unnamed to ringside. Matheson is quick to jump in front and call a quick “Business” meeting on the outside of the ring before anything gets underway.” “The Unnamed got themselves a damned good manager when they signed Matheson,” says Riley. “Most managers would send their clients into battle without a second thought, but Matheson KNOWS when to hold his clients off until the actual match has started. Saving all that energy until this match has started is the reason why this team is the only one’s who have a realistic chance of beating Justice and Rule!” “Surely you just, Citizen Robert,” replies Comet. “James Matheson is nothing but a liar and a cheat who hides behind brutes like Matthews and Va’aiga! Did you hear him trying to tell Mark Stevens that Va’aiga had nothing to do with destroying his office?” “How could he? Va’aiga was in a match!” “WILD!” “DANGEROUS!” The two words that BLAST across the SmarkTron™ cause the fans to rise from their seats and let out one loud unanimous roar just before the throbbing bassline of Method Man and Redman's "Y.O.U." nearly drown them out... and prevent Comet from having to reply! "Entering third," says Funyon, "at a total combined weight of four hundred thirty one pounds… WILD! AAAAAAAAAAND DAAAAANGEROUS!" Dressed in their matching Olympic singlets, Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous sprint 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! But the cheers are quickly turned to jeers as... JUSTICE! RULE! POPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOP The discordant guitar melody of “Sleep Now in the Fire” by Rage Against the Machine blast into the arena as the infamous tag team duo swipes aside the curtains and step out front and center. The pyro dies down as the two approach the ring, dawning their familiar Football Jersey one last time! “ANNNND finally... Weighing in at a combined weight of four hundred-fifty four pounds, they are the current SWF Tag Team Champions OF the WOOOOOORLD… they are JUSTICE! ANNNND! RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULE!” “Here they are,” cheers Riley, “with Justice and Rule here, you know things are about to get heated!” “Don’t you mean cheated?” Quickly sliding into the ring, Judge and Ejiro unfasten the Tag Team Titles from around their waist, and raise them out to the crowds, and by the sound of it, Miami’s revulsion towards Justice and Rule is still unsurpassed! Unfazed, the duo hand off the belts to the Referee, then make way to the only unmanned corner as the timekeeper rings the bell. DING! DING! DING! Duran and Dace appear inclined to start the match, and quickly cover the distance to meet each other in the center of the ring. “Dace Night and John Duran about to get this match started,” notes Comet. “And these two men got it on just a few days ago back on Smarkdown in tag team action!” At Comet’s words, Riley looks forlorn. “Been a while since I got it on in some tag team action,” he mutters. “What was that, Robert?” “Err… what,” stammers Riley, as he realizes he’s been thinking out loud again. “Huh? Err… uhh… nothing!” Duran and Dace stare at each other, but only for a split second, before tearing into each other with rights and lefts! The crowd goes crazy as punch after punch is thrown, with Dace finally getting the better of it, as he forces Duran back towards the edge of the ring. Dace grabs Duran by the wrist and attempts to whip him across the ring, an attempt that the Sinner easily reverses. Duran lowers his head as Dace bounces off the ropes to deliver a backdrop… BAM! … But Horrorcore surprises him, catching him flush on the jaw with a running knee lift! The crowd roars as Duran stumbles backwards, falling to his BUTT on the mat. Dace runs towards the edge of the ring, but as he bounces off, Va’aiga grabs him from behind, disrupting his momentum. Horrorcore spins around to confront the Maori, even taking a swing at him, but Va’aiga ducks out of the way. “Coward,” growls Comet. “If you’re going to involve yourself from outside the ring, be a man and face up to your actions!” “I have a feeling that Va’aiga’s actions were merely a distraction,” replies Riley. “Look at Duran!” Unseen by Dace, The Sinner is lining up behind him, bent into a crouch in preparation for his spear. On a head signal from Va’aiga, Duran takes off for the corner… CRASH! … But Horrorcore catches on to the signal and moves out of the way just in time, avoiding Duran as he barrels into the turnbuckle, ramming his own shoulder into it at full speed! The Sinner staggers out of the corner, clutching his shoulder… WHAM! … Only to walk right into a powerslam by the Brummie Goth! Dace holds onto the leg as the referee drops into position to deliver the count: ONE! TWO— KICKOUT! “You’re not going to beat Duran this early,” says Riley, “especially not with something like a powerslam!” Night pulls Duran to his feet and grabs him by the back of the head, leading him towards Wild and Dangerous’ corner, where he makes the tag to Wildchild. The crowd begins to cheer loudly as the Bahama Bomber leaps over the top rope to enter the ring. Dace grabs Duran by the wrist and whips him across the ring, dropping flat to the mat as the Sinner bounces off the ropes… WHAM! … Only to grin as he watches Duran run over the top of him and directly into the path of a Wildchild dropkick! Wildchild grabs Duran by the wrist and prepares to whip him across the ring towards the Trinity’s corner, but the Sinner reverses easily. The Human Hurricane leaps high into the air, landing on the top turnbuckle, and pauses for only a split-second before flipping backwards into the ring as he senses Duran charging towards him. Duran puts on the brakes, stopping just out of arm’s length of Dace and Terrence, and turns back around, rushing towards Wildchild to deliver a clothesline, but the Bahama Bomber ducks underneath and runs towards the edge of the ring, where he leaps onto the top rope and springs back into the ring… SLAM! … Landing on Duran’s shoulders and locking his legs behind his neck before whipping around and ripping the Sinner through the air with a breathtaking springboard rana! “Tremendous balance and agility by the Wildchild,” gushes Comet. WHAM! Wildchild beats the Notorious One to his feet and springs into action, thrusting his leg through the air and crushing Duran’s face with a shuffling sidekick that sends him stumbling backwards towards the Trinity’s corner… BAM! … Where he his greeted by a hard right hand from the Anti-Heel Machine! Duran staggers out of the corner, where a quick but firm right hand from the Caribbean Cruiser sends him back into the corner… BAM! … Only to be met this time by a left hand from Dace Night! Another hard right from Wildchild sends Duran stumbling back into the Trinity’s corner… BAM! WHAM! BAM! WHAM! BAM! WHAM! … Where Terrence and Dace knock him back and forth between each other like a pinball! The crowd roars its approval, as the Notorious One gets punch-drunk, bouncing between the heavy fists of the Unholy Trinity! BOOM! Wildchild races towards the ropes as a right hand from Bailey that nearly hits with the force of a Knuckle Bomb sends Duran back towards the center of the ring… WHAM! … And into the path of Wildchild’s patented Pinball attack! The Tropical Tumbler uncurls himself and hooks Duran’s near leg as the referee counts the pin: ONE! TWO! THR— KICKOUT! “See,” says Riley, with much less confidence than before. “Duran ain’t goin’ out like that!” Wildchild pulls Duran to his feet and leads him over towards his own corner, where he makes the tag to his partner. The rowdy Floridians cheer emphatically in anticipation of some vintage Wild and Dangerous double-teaming. Wild and Dangerous each grab one of Duran’s arms and whip him across the ring, lifting him into the air as he bounces off the ropes… WHAM! … And planting him into the canvas with a double-spinebuster! But, the tag team specialists are far from done, as they each lace their inside leg with those of the fallen Notorious One, and lock hands with each other before rolling forward, ripping Duran off the mat and through the air… WHAM! … Before he lands back on the canvas again, courtesy of a double leg-whip powerbomb! Wild and Dangerous untangle themselves from Duran’s legs and the referee orders Wildchild back to the corner before dropping down to count Johnny’s pinfall attempt: ONE! TWO! THRE— But Va’aiga rushes into the ring, keeping his team alive by kicking Johnny in the back of the head to break up the pin. The Barracuda gets to his feet, holding his head as he accosts Va’aiga for interfering, allowing Duran enough respite to spin Johnny around and stun him with a thumb to the eyes. Still somewhat disoriented by the beating he’s taken to this point, Duran stumbles away from Johnny Dangerous and into Justice and Rule’s corner, where he absent-mindedly tags Judge Hearford. Johnny drops down into a ready crouch, challenging the Champion as he steps warily through the ropes. “Here we go,” says Comet anxiously. “This is the marquee matchup, right here! The Tag Champions against the Number One Contenders!” “Listen to this crowd, Citizen Riley,” shouts Comet over the roar of the crowd. “They’ve been waiting for months now to see Justice and Rule get into the ring against Wild and Dangerous, and we’re finally about to see it happen!” The tension in the American Airlines Arena is palpable as Judge Mental and Johnny Dangerous stand only mere feet from each other, engaged in a staredown that seems to extend to a battle of sheer willpower. “You can feel it in the air, Bobby,” says Comet. “The titles are going to change hands tonight; I can feel it in my shorts!” “Are you sure you just didn’t forget to wipe yourself,” asks Riley. Johnny takes another step towards Judge, and Hizzoner leans forward as if to meet him, but suddenly knocks everyone in the arena for a loop, turning towards the Unnamed’s corner and slapping Va’aiga on the wrist. The crowd deflates as the watch Hearford retreat towards his corner, but quickly recover and begin to vocally express their disapproval. BOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Judge looks at the Maori Menace with a sly grin and hooks his thumb towards the ring, as if ordering him to get in there and handle his light work. “Hah,” shouts Riley mirthfully. “He strung everyone in this BUILDING along for that one! I love it!” Johnny stares after Judge with a stunned expression on his face, as the crowd continues to let Judge have it: CHICK-EN SHIT! CHICK-EN SHIT! CHICK-EN SHIT! CHICK-EN SHIT! Unfazed by the crowd’s displeasure, Va’aiga steps into the ring, cracking his neck and knuckles before approaching Johnny Dangerous. Irritated by Judge’s cowardice, but unwilling to back down from the Maori Menace, Johnny runs gamely towards him, slamming a few hard rights into his face! BAP! BAP! BAP! But the punches barely even faze the massive Maori. Johnny runs towards the edge of the ring, bouncing off the ropes to build momentum and exploding off the mat, ramming into Va’aiga with a flying clothesline, but the Horrible Haka doesn’t even move. Va’aiga grins evilly at the Barracuda, who looks back at him in shock… WHAM! … Before grabbing him by the back of the neck and cranking his own head back, crushing Johnny’s coconut with a devastating headbutt! Johnny falls on his ass, seeing stars as Va’aiga leans over him and makes his presence felt with a spine tingling: BOO-YAH! “Poor Johnny,” moans Comet. “That headbutt has put him in a bad way!” “He bit off more than he could chew by trying to stick it out against Va’aiga,” adds Riley. OOF! Before Va’aiga can press his attack, Johnny puts his own head to good use, fighting off his disorientation to headbutt the Massive Maori in the midsection! As Va’aiga bends over to catch his breath, Johnny scampers between his legs and scrambles to his feet behind him. The Barracuda races towards the edge of the ring, surging off the ropes as Va’aiga turns around… CRACK! … And nailing him with a Spinning Wheel Kick that sends him stumbling backwards into the ropes! Johnny runs past Va’aiga as he staggers back towards the center of the ring, leaping onto the middle rope and springing off… WHAM! … Nailing the Horrible Haka in the back of the head with a Springboard Dropkick that sends him stumbling face-first to the canvas! “Nice sequence of maneuvers,” says Comet. “And the Barracuda proves that sometimes speed and guile will succeed where brute force fails!” From the Trinity’s corner, Terrence lets out a laugh at Va’aiga being outmaneuvered in the ring. Enraged, the Maori springs to his feet and charges towards the Trinity’s corner, daring Bailey to enter the ring, an action that the crowd heartily approves of. Johnny looks back and forth between Terrence and Va’aiga and then, with a broad grin, stretches over towards the corner and makes the tag to Terrence. Terrence and Va’aiga circle each other around the ring, and as Bailey nears the Unnamed’s corner, Matheson hops onto the ring apron to distract him. Terrence turns around and takes a swing at him, just narrowly missing as Matheson drops back down to the arena floor… WHAM! … And leaving himself wide open to a sneak attack by the Maori Menace! Va’aiga runs up behind Bailey and levels him with a Yakuza kick that sends him flying over the top rope and down to the arena floor, his head crashing into the padded concrete! “Damn that Matheson,” roars Comet, as ‘Mister 2004’ reaches underneath the ring to retrieve a steel chair. “Always sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong!” With his back to the edge of the ring, Va’aiga gets the referee’s attention, leading him away from the ropes as Duran drops down from the apron. The Notorious One accepts the chair from Matheson and raises it above his head… CRACK! … Lowering it onto the exposed head of the Anti-Heel Machine! Va’aiga runs over to the Trinity’s corner to distract Dace, ensuring that he doesn’t see his partner’s activity. The referee tries to separate the Massive Maori and the Brummie Goth… CRACK! CRACK! … As Duran levels the chair onto the back of Bailey’s skull a few more times before laying the chair flat against the arena floor and pulling Terrence to his feet and into a front facelock. “No,” pleads Comet. “Don’t do it!” “Do it,” counters Riley. “Do it! Do it! Do it!” BANG! Duran falls backwards, driving Bailey’s face into the steel chair with a bone-crunching DDT! “Great Hera,” moans Comet. “DDT onto a chair on the floor! Poor Citizen Bailey has to be out after that one!” Duran picks Terrence’s lifeless body off of the arena floor and rolls it underneath the bottom rope into the ring. Va’aiga walks over to him and cockily presses his foot onto the Aussie Giant’s chest. The referee drops down to the mat to deliver the pin count: ONE! TWO! But Dace Night runs into the ring and knocks Va’aiga off of his partner before the referee’s hand can drop a third time! “Head’s up thinking by Horrorcore,” sighs Comet, “as he makes a match-saving stop!” Va’aiga turns back to face Night. “Stay out of my business, you Limey bastard,” he roars. “Why don’t you come over here and say that,” replies Dace, as the referee tries to keep them separated. “Concentrate on the match, Va’aiga,” pleads Riley. “You’re too close to throw it away!” The referee finally succeeds in forcing Dace back onto the ring apron, and Va’aiga turns his attention back towards his opponent… BOOM! … Only to be knocked silly as the Anti-Heel Machine digs down deep to rise up and blast the Haka in the face with a horrifying Knuckle Bomb! “Knuckle Bomb,” shouts Comet. “Both men are down!” After a few seconds of inactivity, Terrence begins to crawl towards his corner. Horrorcore holds his arm out, hoping beyond hope that his partner can make it. SMACK! But just before Bailey is about to make the tag, Duran runs across the ring and knocks Dace off the ring apron! BOOOOOOOOO! The crowd expresses their approval at Duran’s notorious tactics, but their jeers quickly turn to cheers as Terrence gets to his feet behind the Sinner. “Duran,” screams Riley. “Look out for Janus!” Just as Duran turns back toward his corner, he finds himself in the clutches of the Anti-Heel Machine! Bailey wraps his massive hands around Duran’s throat and jerks him off the mat… BOOM! … Planting him suddenly with a shattering chokeslam! The crowd cheers as Terrence gets off his knees, but as he turns his attention back to the legal man, he finds himself caught by the TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO-GOOD, VERY BAD, FUCK YOU, YOU AUSSIE SCUM, CAUSE THE ALL BLACKS WERE ROBBED LAAAAAAARIIIIIIOOOOOOOTOOOOOH! “The Lariat,” shouts Riley giddily. “Janus is done!” Va’aiga collapses atop the unconscious Bailey as the referee dives into position to make the count: ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! “The Unholy Trinity have been eliminated,” says Funyon. “One down,” says Riley, “Two to go! If this keeps up, Justice and Rule might just defend their titles without even breaking a sweat!” Dace dives into the ring to protect his partner as Va’aiga continues to assault him after the fact. He covers Terrence’s body with his own, and begins to slide him out of the ring… CRACK! … But Matheson hands the steel chair to Va’aiga, and he uses it to smash Dace in the back of the head! “For Zeus’s sake, ref,” growls Comet. “Put a stop to this! The Trinity has already been eliminated!” The referee tries to rip the chair out of Va’aiga’s hands, but the Massive Maori snatches it away. The ref tries to take the chair again, but the Haka shoves him forcefully to the mat! “That’s it,” says Comet gleefully. “He just sent himself to the showers!” “NOOOO,” screams Riley. “Why, Va’aiga, why? You had it won! Why’d you have to put your hands on the ref?” Deciding that he’s had more than enough, the referee orders the timekeeper to ring the bell, and points towards Va’aiga and Duran, shouting to Funyon, “They’re outta here!” DING! DING! DING! “Ladies and gentlemen,” says Funyon, “I have just been informed by the referee that the Unnamed have been DISQUALIFIED!” The Miami fans erupt at the news, as Va’aiga and Duran stare at the ref in astonishment. “The Unnamed are out of here,” says Comet, “and now this match is down to two teams; the two teams that everyone has been waiting to see go at it ever since Battleground!” Without a second’s hesitation, Johnny bolts straight into the action; charging across the ring, he grabs Judge by the head and pulls him over the top rope into the ring! Judge staggers to his feet disoriented, and the Barracuda rears back and SMASHES his fist into that bearded mouth, nearly jarring Hizzoner’s head loose from his neck! “Look at that,” cries Riley. “That was a closed-fist punch! Where’s Wild and Dangerous’ disqualification?” “Bobby,” says Comet, rather exasperated. “I think there is just a tad bit of a HUGE difference between a closed fist and what happened with the Unnamed! To try and put the two on the same level is just absurd.” Judge spins around and stumbles forward while patting his lips for blood, but before he can stumble too far Johnny forcefully grabs Hearford’s arm and jerks him back around to face him- WHAM! -And nearly floors the poor old bastard with a second blast to the Judge’s jaw! Hearford goes reeling back into the corner, slumping into the turnbuckle, but again Johnny grabs him by the arm only this time he slings the Judge across the ring, and then takes off for the opposite ropes himself! Judge hits the ropes, springs back, as does Johnny while cocking his arm back as far as he possibly can without breaking it off, then swings like Babe Ruth for Hearford’s grizzled mug- WHAAMM!! … But with a load growl, Hearford puts everything he’s got into a diving clothesline, and almost decapitates the Barracuda! Gently massaging his jaw, Hearford heads towards his corner and extends his hand towards his partner, AND, with Johnny already down, Fasaki is more than eager to take the offering, and leap into action! Ejiro plops straight down onto Johnny, rolling him over for a pin. ONE! TW-STOMP! Wildchild runs into the ring, kicking Ejiro in the back of the head to break up the pinfall! “That was a close call for Wild and Dangerous,” sighs Comet. Ejiro looks up in dismay at Wildchild, who runs back to his corner before the referee even has a chance to admonish him, and stares back with mock innocence. And Ejiro’s distraction turns out to be costly, as Johnny pops back to his feet behind Fasaki and nudges his head underneath his arm, lifting him into the air… SLAM! … And driving the unprepared Fasaki into the canvas with an MI Slam! “MI Slam,” shouts Comet. “I told you, Robert; a title change is in the air!” Johnny stands up and immediately pulls Fasaki to his feet. Not a single word is said, but the moment Johnny slides in underneath Ejiro, Wildchild hops up to the top of the turnbuckle, mounts himself and waits for his prey to come within range. “Here it comes,” says Comet as the crowds begin to make some serious noise seeing the setup to Wild and Dangerous’ devastating finishing maneuver. “If Wild and Dangerous can hit this move, I’m afraid it might be curtains for the rule of Justice and Rule!” Johnny takes a step forward grabbing Fasaki’s ankles and preparing to toss him face down with an Electric Chair drop, when the Bahama Bomber launches himself from the turnbuckle like a Tomahawk Cruise Missile! Wildchild reaches out and grabs onto Ejiro’s face for a bulldog as Johnny tosses Fasaki off his shoulder and sits out! WHAAAAAAAMM!!! “DANGEROUS DROP,” shouts Comet. “New Champions!” Wildchild firmly presses both palms into Ejiro’s chest for the final pin, while the Referee drops to make the count with the crowds happily counting along! ONEEEEEEE!!! TWOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEFUCKTHATSHIT!!!! With barley a nickel to spare, Fasaki slings his shoulder - however weakly - off the mat, completely stunning the crowds with a collective AWE! “How close was that, Bobby,” says Comet, “I may disapprove of his disposition, but I got to hand it to that little guy, he’s one tough Son of a-” “-But NOOOO,” mocks Bobby, “I’m never right, am I? I’ve been saying that the entire time Fasaki’s been here in the SWF, It’s about damn time you realized that!” The Caribbean Cruiser sits up on his knees, not one bit surprised in the least that Ejiro refuses to stay down. He has fought a brutal war with Ejiro for nearly the entire time the BOTH of them have been in the SJL and SWF combined, this is nothing new to him. Wildchild’s eyes dart towards his corner where Johnny awaits with his hand extended. Acknowledging the Barracuda with a nod, Wildchild grabs Ejiro by his head and walks him to the corner. He quickly locks in a half abdominal stretch on Ejiro, then reaches out with one hand... THUNK! ... But before Johnny can accept the tag, Hearford buries his knuckles deep into the Barracuda’s back, then grabs him by the ankles and jerks his feet off the apron! Johnny’s chin SLAMS into the ring apron, and bounces off like a well-aired basketball, sending him stammering backwards holding onto his chin! Return the favor from earlier, Judge grabs onto Johnny by his arm and slings him back around, only this time Hearford whips the Barracuda straight into the steel steps, which release a loud clang as Johnny plows into them! “WHAT in the name of God’s green earth is Hearford doing,” cries Comet. “This goes well beyond the rules of fair play!” “I don’t think so,” retorts Bobby. “You have to do everything you can to keep yourself the champion, even if it means a dis... Uhh...” “Yeah, go ahead, Robert. A disqualification! With that close call we just saw in the ring, the Judge knows that the end is near! So what’s he going to do, get his team disqualified in order to keep those belts?” The crowd boos relentlessly, but William dismisses them with a heartless wave. He drops to his knees and reaches under the ring for an unknown object, and by this time the Referee has seen enough! He hops down from the ring barking at the Judge to return to his corner, and threatening a disqualification. Wildchild leaves his victim for a moment to make a quick check on his partner, and as we all know by now... It’s just the opportunity Ejiro Fasaki looks for. On one end of the ringside, Hearford sides a chair out from under the ring, and stands back to his feet, but the Referee grabs onto the chair and a struggle for custody of the chair ensues! “This is just plain old pathetic... hey, what’s Ejiro doing?” Fasaki heads over to the timekeeper’s table and quickly snatches one of the Tag Team Titles off the table, the turns back towards the ring. Watching all of this take place, the crowds boos grow sizably louder and louder, knowing that they are about to see Justice and Rule screw yet another competitor out of the titles! Across the ring, Wildchild makes sure that Johnny is coherent enough to continue, then helps him to his feet before sliding back into the ring- CRAAAACKK!!! … Ejiro dives for the Bahama Bomber, extending the gold plated title belt out and nailing Wildchild smack dab in the forehead! Like one would expect, it’s light’s out for the Caribbean Cruiser. “NO,” cries Comet, “This is highway robbery, this match CAN NOT end on a sour note like this! INJUSTICE~ strikes again!” Ejiro quickly disposes of the title belt by slinging it out of the ring, and with the crowds already buzzing with enough hate to start World War 3, Fasaki turns to them and gives a good old-fashioned Military Salute! F-U FASAKI! F-U FASAKI! F-U FASAKI! F-U FASAKI! Satisfied that their ruse has worked, Hearford finally releases the chair and heads back towards his corner, much to the pleasure of this Referee. In the ring, Ejiro drops down onto Wildchild for the pin, and as soon as the Referee sees the pin he slides back into the ring and throws himself to the mat! “NO,” cries Comet, “Don’t count it!” ONEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! TWOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! “OH MY GOD, NO,” shouts Comet. “NO, NO, NO! JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH! I CAN‘T BELIEVE THIS-” “-HE KICKED OUT!!!” The crowds completely blow the roof off the arena when the Bahama Bomber does the unexpected, and kicks out of the pin, leaving Judge’s chin resting on the turnbuckle, Bobby’s against the table, and Ejiro’s against the mat! Chants begin to stir up louder than they have all night long, which get Johnny’s attention and return him to the apron. DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! “This is totally off the charts,” says Comet. “I have never seen Wildchild’s willpower so high before!” Wildchild rolls onto his knees and begins to shove off the mat while holding dearly to his head, but before he can make it too far Ejiro grabs onto him and slings him into the corner turnbuckle manned by Hearford! The Bahama Bomber’s back slams into the steel post with a sickening thud, then as he pops out of the corner Hizzoner slings his fist into the back of Wildchild’s head as Fasaki rushes in with an elbow to the head! WHACK! Once again the Bahama Bomber finds himself sprawled across the mat, and Fasaki then decides to pass this one off to Hearford. “Tag is made, and Hearford is in,” says Comet. “After all that cheating, I’m surprised they’re even bothering to make tags.” Grabbing the Caribbean Cruiser by the neck, Hizzoner jerks him off the mat and THRUSTS Wildchild’s head in between his legs. “Capital Punishment coming right up,” says Bobby. “Justice is about to be served!” Judge reaches down and under hooks Wildchild’s arms, but before he can go any further, Wildchild breaks the arms free, grabs around Hizzoner’s thighs, and jerks him off his feet! Judge hits the canvas, then gets a stomp to the groin, which gets a good crowd pop! Hizzoner writhes on the mat, holding his jewels as Wildchild turns and stammers towards his corner, but Fasaki flies back into the ring before the Bahama Bomber can make it to the desperate to get tagged Johnny! Ejiro dives... Wildchild leaps... ... And the Bahaman’s feet narrowly slip between Fasaki’s grip on his way to smacking the hand of Johnny Dangerous! T A G ! “JOHNNY’S IN! JOHNNY’S IN,” shouts Comet, as the crowds react with glee! Fasaki quickly pops back to his feet as Johnny hurls himself over the top rope, and charges towards Ejiro with flying fist! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! Three consecutive punches find their way into Ejiro’s skull and each one knocks the former World Champ back a step until he’s back all the way into the ropes. Johnny grabs Fasaki and whips him across the ring, then charges after him! Hitting the ropes, Ejiro begins to spring off of them when the Barracuda leaps into the air and SLAMS the BUTT of his heel into Rule’s skull with a jumping sidekick, and knocks him forcefully over the top rope to the outside floor! WHAAM!!! With the crowds roaring in delight, the Barracuda takes down the straps of his Singlet wrestling attire and lets loose a mighty battle cry, getting another loud cheer in response! Taking the hint of his partner, Wildchild’s straps come down as well. Johnny leans in and says something not quite audible to his partner, who smiles and nods at whatever he’s telling him. The pair then turns towards Judge who is trying to recoup from the devastating nut shot, and crawling back to his feet by the aide of the ring ropes. Wild and Dangerous slink in from behind... “Wait a second,” says Bobby. “What are they about to... No... No way in hell.” The crowds continue their cheer, and for the first time ever are actually cheering for the recognizable set up of this move. Unbeknownst to the clear and present danger, Judge pushes off from the ropes, spins around... and is caught by complete surprise as the Barracuda sweeps Judge off his feet with a flapjack, tossing him high into the air overhead- -AND WILDCHILD LEAPS UP, GRABBING ONTO THE BACK OF HIZZONER’S HEAD, AND DRILLS HIM FACE-FIRST INTO THE CANVAS WITH A DDT! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!!!!!!!! “OH MY GAWD,” shrieks Bobby, “That was a Gavel Bang! Wild and Dangerous have no business using that move!” “By Hecate they don’t!” snaps Comet, “It’s about time Justice and Rule got a taste of their own medicine!” Nonetheless, Johnny rolls Hearford onto his back, hooks his leg, and rears back as far as he can. The Referee throws himself down to the mat, and with the crowds counting along, and Wildchild throwing up a finger for every count... ONEE!!! TWOOOO!!!!!! THREEEEEE!!!!!!!!! DING! DING! DING! “WILD AND DANGEROUS WIN!” shouts Comet as the crowds go totally BALLISTIC! “And I don’t think there is a single person here still sitting as we crown brand new champions here tonight!” “Ahem?” “Okay, but your the only one, Citizen Robert.” “Y.O.U.” thumps back out from the speakers, as Funyon grabs his nearby stick and hops up from his seat. “The winners of this match, and NEEEEEW TAG TEAM CHAMPIOOOOOONS of the WORRRRRRLD.... WILD! ANNNNND DAAAANGEROUUSS!!!!” Johnny Dangerous and Wildchild accept a title belt each from the Referee before having their hands raised high into the air in victory! The crowds cheer mightily, which force huge smiles across both the faces of Wild and Dangerous... As we: FADE OUT Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted January 17, 2004 Ben Hardy stands outside the door marked “Grand Slam” and scratches his nose casually. He turns his head to the side and carefully works his finger into the nostril. As he idly picks his nose, the sound of a stage manager shouting can be heard faintly. Hardy jumps, his eyes widen and he turns to the camera. “Fans,” he says, oblivious to the fact that his finger is still jammed into his nose, “Commissioner Mark Stevens made an announcement last week that threatened to shake the very foundations of the SWF. Let’s take a look back.” === "Gentlemen, I am challenging the both of you to continue to perform at that level until Clusterfuck. If you do, I personally promise you that your efforts will be rewarded. You two, our finest cruiserweights among a division loaded with talent, will compete for a prize that will forever change the cruiserweight division of the SWF." Wildchild can't contain himself any longer. "You mean-" The Commissioner cuts him off. "No, Wildchild, sadly I don't. I can't promise you that the Cruiserweight Title will be reinstated. But I can promise you that if you and Tom wrestle like I know you can at Clusterfuck, I will have a lot more ammo to take to the board for its reinstatement. No, the prize you and Tom will be competing for will be unprecedented in our company. I wish I could tell you more, but frankly I have probably told you too much already. The one thing I do want to make clear is that if you accept this offer, vague as it is, you are forfeiting your place in the Clusterfuck and your potential shot at the World Title. But I promise you that what you may potentially gain will more than make up for that." === “As we saw there,” says Hardy, his finger still blocking his mouth, “‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens invited both Tom Flesher and Wildchild to consider facing off for the ultimate cruiserweight bragging rights at the Clusterfuck. In the five days since then, I’m sure he’s heard from one of the athletes, so let’s ask him what he’s found out.” Hardy turns around and swings the door open, revealing “the Superior One” Tom Flesher sitting back in Grand Slam’s desk chair, his feet up on the desk. Hardy, caught off guard, jumps again, this time yanking his finger from his nose in surprise. Flesher grins, adjusting his position and sitting up in the chair, planting his Doc Marten boots firmly on the ground. He smoothes his I Am Superior shirt ($24.95 at TheSWF.net) and rests his chin on one fist, propping it up on the desk. “Evening, Benji. What can I do for you?” “Well, I was hoping to get a comment from Grand Slam about the…” “About the cruiserweight match at Clusterfuck?” Flesher sits straight up. “Well, Ben, I think you’re in luck. Commissioner Slam’s stepped out for a moment, but I’m perfectly willing to be honest with you. You see, I was disappointed at first. Wildchild was the guy who brought up bringing back the Light Heavyweight Title, but when Mark said that they weren’t bringing the belt back, my heart sank. See, Ben, that title meant something to me. By the time I won it, I was on my second reign with the US Title… the second of three. I’d beaten off people who will go down in the annals of SWF history as some of the best workers we’ve ever had, people like Ann Onita, Jamie Drazon and Chris Raynor. People who, a year later, would be contending for the ICTV and World Titles, people whose matches went down in the history of the federation as the best we’ve ever produced.” Flesher looks off in the distance for a second, wistful at the thought of his early days in the federation. Idly, he toys with a baseball bat-shaped pen on Grand Slam’s desk. A second later, though, he shakes of the momentary trance. “But I didn’t solidify myself until that match against El Luchadore Magnifico, Ben. I went in there at Ground Zero against a man who would retire a three-time World Champion and I made him submit twice. That night, he was better than he’d ever been, and I managed to make him tap out twice. And when I walked out of the ring that night, I had the SWF Light Heavyweight Championship belt around my waist.” Flesher grins. “That belt meant a lot to me, but what the belt signified was even more important. I was the best cruiser in the SWF from the night I beat Mags until the night that I took a dive for Ann Onita. Tonight, if you went out there and asked a thousand people in the audience who the best cruiser in the SWF is, I guarantee that nine hundred of them would say Wildchild’s name.” Hardy looks at Flesher and asks, “Does that mean…?” “Absolutely. I’ll be in the ring against Wildchild at Clusterfuck. Why? Because I’m still the best cruiser in the SWF, and I want the bragging rights.” Hardy fidgets a bit, trying to come up with a follow-up. Flesher sees this and breaks in. “Ask me about old scores, Ben.” “Er… what about old scores?” “Well, it’s true that bringing up El Luchadore Magnifico has raised up some memories about old times, Benji, but someone else has been dredging up the past a lot lately, too. That someone’s name is Mike Van Siclen.” “Obviously, you’re referring to last week, when Mike reminded the world about the time you broke his leg in April of 2002, when you were both in the Junior League.” “Yes, it’s true,” says Flesher. “I started my ascent to the top by beating Mike Van Siclen for the SJL European Title, and in my first defense, I broke his leg with the Superior Stretch. It’s not something I’m proud of, but it’s there. I can’t go back now and change it.” “So what do you have to say to Mike Van Siclen this week?” “I think it’s pretty obvious, really,” Flesher says with a shrug. “I’ve never ducked anyone. If Mike wants to come out and fight me, I’ll face off against him any time… hell, I can get him before the Fuck if he’s game. The thing is, Mike, that I’m not going to take it easy on you. You can complain all you want about something that happened almost two years ago, or you can move on. If this match is going to give you closure or something, fine, but this one will end the same way all the rest did. You’re going out on your back, because frankly… I’m just that much better than you.” From there, the show fades out to commercial. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted January 17, 2004 In a very rare scene, the state of the art, American Airlines Arena is jam packed with screaming fans, who are anxiously awaiting the main event of the evening. Riley: It’s about time this beautiful arena got some use, because there isn’t anybody going to any Miami Heat games. Even when they were winning games, nobody gave a damn. Comet: Welcome back my fair citizens, you’ve returned just in time to catch the main event of evening where we will see Danny Williams defending the World Title against Michael Craven! Suddenly, the house lights go out, blanketing the arena in a sea of darkness! Saliva’s “King of the World” starts blasting out of the loud speakers, while strobe lights dance along to the beat. As quickly as they began, the strobe lights go out, only to be replaced by a beaming blue light that one would expect to come from a UFO. The light focuses on the tall imposing figure of Michael Craven, coldly standing at the entranceway like a marble statue. Funyon: The following contest is the MAIN EVENT of the evening! Introducing first, weighing in at a 280 pounds, hailing from Tampa, Florida..........MICHAEL CRAAAAAAAVEN!!! Seemingly at Craven’s command, a huge blast of white pyro lights up the stage like it’s the fourth of July! Casually slipping into the ring, Craven jumps up on the turnbuckles with wide spread arms, basking in the jeers of the fans! Comet: Here, live on national television, Michael Craven has the chance of a lifetime. The chance to capture the SWF World Title in his home state of Florida! Riley: Bah, these idiots don’t appreciate a home town hero as great as Michael Craven. Here it is, his big chance at glory, and their booing him like he’s some sort of sex offender. Comet: Despite not having much crowd support, Craven is indeed a deserving Champion, who will no doubt give it his all tonight. Saliva fade off into the distance, but is soon replaced by the sweet melodies of In Flame’s “Jester’s Dance.” Welcoming the World Champion with open arms, the fans instantly break into a loud, “DAN-E!” chant. Once the heroic power chords kick in, Danny makes his low key, yet grand entrance! Funyon: And his opponent, weighing in at 243 pounds, hailing from Louisville, Kentucy...............HE IS THE SWF WORLD CHAMPION................DANNY WILLIAMS! Wearing the World Title proudly around his waste, Williams confidently marches out of the locker room, making his way down the entrance ramp! Comet: As World Champion, Danny Williams hasn’t gotten a break as this will be his second defense in as many weeks. Riley: Craven is gonna be a huge test for Williams. Unlike Ejiro, Craven is bigger, stronger, and possibly even more athletic than Danny Williams. Comet: What a very good point, my young side kick. It will be very interesting to see what Williams can do with a man who’s physically superior to him. Riley: Did you just call me your side kick?! Showing no emotion, Williams and Craven are as cold as ice as the Main Event approaches. With both men ready in their corners, Soapdish signals for the bell! DING! DING! DING! Williams confidentlly makes his way to the center of the ring, while a very focused Micheal Craven does the same. As the two men get closer to each other, it becomes more and more clear as to just how big Craven really is! The challenger absolutely dwarfs Williams, making the pudgy World Champion look like a short, little, piss ant. After a couple customary circles, the two grapplers clash together in a collar elbow tie up! Gaining the advantage, Craven suavely ducks behind Williams, clamping his hands around his neck with a tight Full Nelson! Shockingly, Craven lifts Williams high into the air, flips him around, and..... KA-BOOM! sits out, splattering the Champion’s face across the canvas! The early bomb surprises the crowd, who can’t help but pop like mad! Comet: NIGHTFALL SLAM! Riley: It looks like Craven isn’t gonna be holding anything back, tonight. Which is appropriate, considering that the World Title is on the line. Numb faced and stunned, Williams crawls to the outside in a hurry. Not letting the Champion get a moment’s rest, Craven cooly climbs out on the ring apron, and waits. Doing his best to put the throbbing pain in his face behind him, Williams climbs to his feet, when Craven comes somersaulting off the apron like a lunatic! To the astonishment of the thousands in attendance, Craven catches Williams by his head, and pulls him to the floor with a dazzling Neckbreaker! Comet: Flipping Neckbreaker off the ring apron, is there anything this man can’t do! Riley: First he get’s Williams with his power, than he get’s him with his athleticism! Comet: I don’t think you’ll find a more athletic big man anywhere in the world, Michael Craven is truly a superman amongst earthlings. A bit sore from landing on the hard floor, Craven rubs his back as he gets up. Taking Williams by his hair and tights, The King of Nightmares rolls him into the ring, but doesn’t enter himself. Instead, Craven boldly ascends the turnbuckles, climbing all the way up to the top rope! Holding the back of his head, Williams clumsily climbs to his feet, unaware of the danger he’s in! Camera flashes turn the arena into a epileptics worst nightmare as Craven flips off the top rope like a suicidal circus acrobat, catching Danny with another Flipping Neckbreaker! Now within the confines of the squared circle, Craven wastes little time in going for the cover! One! Williams kicks out to a luke warm pop! A bit surprised that his high risk didn’t pay off, Craven stares into space for a few seconds, before realizing he’s got a match to win. Mounting Williams’ back, Craven tucks his arms back underneath his thighs, and pulls back on his chin, trapping the Champion in a painful Camel Clutch! Comet: I guess that Craven’s decided that two high risks are enough for right now, so he’s gonna wear Williams down in a more safer fashion. Torturing the Champion, Craven cruelly twists and cranks on Williams’ neck. Managing to get his knees underneath him, Danny fights through the hellish pain of the submission hold, and crawls his way to the ropes. Throwing Danny’s head down in disgust, Craven dismounts the Champion, and guides him to his feet. To the puzzlement of the crowd, Craven positions Williams for a Vertical Suplex, despite his back being against the ropes. Riley: What’s he gonna do, is he gonna Suplex out of the ring?! With little resistance, Craven easily suspends Williams upside down! Dropping forward, Craven slams Williams into the canvas, gut first! Comet: Ah...A reverse suplex, you don’t see too many of those! Scrambling to his feet, Craven runs into the ropes, and bounces back at Williams! Leaping high into the air, the challenger drops his heavy leg right across the back of Danny’s neck! Michael rolls the agonizing Champion over, and tries for a pin! One! Williams dominantly kicks out, reminding Craven that he has a long way to go if he wants to win the World Championship. Staying on top of Danny, Craven instantly cranks on a tight rear chinlock! Riley: I’m really impressed with Craven so far as he has been dominating the World Champion with ease! I don’t think Williams was expecting him to come out with guns blazing, and as a result, the Champion has gotten himself into a pretty deep hole. Sick of seeing Craven in control, the crowd starts a brief, “DAN-E!” chant. Not nearly weak enough to be kept down by simple chinlock, Williams almost immediately fights his way to a vertical base. From there, Danny begins to drive his the point of his elbow into Craven’s stomach! Not able to take any more deflating blows to the stomach, Craven releases Danny, and slams a forearm into his jaw line! Crack! The blow seemingly spins Danny backwards, however the Champion uses this to his advantage! Thrusting back his leg, Williams blasts Craven’s bread basket with a hard Mule Kick! Wham! Spinning back around, Danny drives the winded challenger into the ropes with a series of stiff elbow smashes! Crack! Crack! Crack! Taking Craven by the wrist, Williams launches him off the ropes with an Irish whip! Hanging on to Danny’s arm, Craven reverses the whip, sending the Champion flying into the ropes against his will! Once Williams comes speeding back, Craven slides to the mat, tripping the Champion up with a drop toe hold! The crowd quiets back down as Craven laces Williams’ legs up with an Inverted Indian Deathlock. Bridging back, The King of Nightmares links his hands under Danny’s chin, and pulls back on it with all his might. Comet: Craven, killing Danny’s comeback with the always awe inspiring Inverted STF, also known as the Sickle Hold. Williams grunts as Craven twists his head back in the opposite direction of which it was meant to bend in. Prying at Craven’s fingers like mad, Danny successfully breaks his hands apart, escaping the submission hold. Climbing back to his feet, Craven untangles Williams’ legs, only to spin around, and stand on his knees! Lacing each of Williams’ legs around his own, Craven leans forward, and grabs Williams’ wrists, pulling his arms back. Rocking back and forth like a pendulum, Craven gains enough momentum to roll on his back, while simultaneously suspending Williams in the air with a painful Mexican Surfboard! Riley Craven can do it all, can’t he. He’s got the power, he’s got the size, he can go up top, and now he’s stretching Williams out on the mat! Comet: That old saying,”student of all, master of none” springs to mind, however Craven may very well be a master of all. Releasing Danny’s arms, Craven grabs his chin to inflict even more damage! Craven sadistically tugs on Danny’s head to the point that the Champion’s body is nearly bent in half! The sight of Williams’ body being stretched out unnaturally, draws a collective gasp from the repulsed crowd. On the scene, Soapdish asks Williams if he wants to call it a night. In response, the World Champion spits a resounding “No!” in the official’s face! No longer able to keep Williams’ balanced, Craven releases his head, letting him spring forward like a catapult! Williams splats face first into the mat, while Craven casually untangles his legs, and mounts his back. Slipping his arms under Danny’s, Craven clamps his hands around the back of his neck with a full nelson. The crowd starts to make some noise as Craven drags Williams to his feet, positioning him for another Nightfall Slam! Not wanting to taste canvas again, Danny shifts all his weight forward, making it very difficult for Craven to lift him. Riley: It looks like Williams is finally given Craven some resistance. Comet: He’s looking for another Nightfall Slam, but he doesn’t have the element of surprise this time around! Keeping a low center of gravity, Williams desperately waddles his way to the ropes. Releasing Williams, Craven hammers his back with heavy forearms. Spinning the Champion around, Craven pushes him into the ropes, and sends him for the ride. The King of Nightmares quietly takes position in the center of the ring, but to his surprise, Williams leaps up on the ropes with cat like agility! Springing back at the challenger, Williams hooks his arm around his throat, and drives him down into the mat! Comet: SLING SHOT NECKBREAKER DROP! Riley: Where does Danny come up with this crap! Thanks to Williams’ flashy maneuver, the American Airlines Arena gets awfully noisy! After nearly having his head torn off, Craven lies still on his back, seemingly paralyzed. Still a bit messed up, Williams slowly rolls to the ropes, and only with their aid does he reach his feet. Gagging like he’s having difficulty swallowing, Michael slowly rises to his feet,.... SMACK! when Danny puts him back on his ass with a Lariat that can be heard for miles! Riley: Ouch, welcome to the Main Event, Mike! In that instant, Williams collapses on Craven, blanketing him for the pin! Warming up, the capacity crowd counts along! “One!” “Two!” Craven kicks out with a surprising amount of ease! After a taking a second to roll his neck around his shoulders, Williams calmly gets to his feet with a fierce look in his eyes. With a mighty heave, Williams scoops all 280 pounds of Craven up, and body slams him in the center of the ring! Perhaps taking his early ass kicking personal, Williams ruthlessly punts the challenger in the back, sending shivers down the spines of the shocked on lookers! SMACK! Grabbing hold of Michael’s legs, Williams tucks his boots under his arm pits, and after a great deal of struggling, manages to turn the big man over. Williams purposely releases Craven’s right leg, and puts all the torque on the other one! Viciously standing on the back of Craven’s head to hold him down, Williams pulls back on his leg until he nearly has him totally vertical! Comet: Williams, locking on his trademark half crab! Riley: Craven must have hit a nerve earlier, because Williams only uses that when he’s really pissed off. His whole body burning with pain, Craven desperately digs his nails into the mat, clawing his way to the safety of the ropes. Slamming Michael’s leg down in a fit of rage, Williams helps the word down challenger to his feet, and whips him off the ropes! Once Craven sling shots back at him, Danny captures him in a nasty Abdominal Stretch! But in a flash, Craven hip tosses Williams off his back! Rushing to his feet, Danny blindly charges at Craven, extending his meaty arm for another clothesline! Comet: He’s going for that Lariat again! Spoiling Williams’ plans for decapitating him, The King of Nightmares catches him by his legs, and drops back, snapping his throat across the top rope! “Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” Williams bounces back to the center of the ring, choking and gagging for air! Riley: A Stun Gun, you can’t help, but love that move! Comet: A rather unheroic move if you ask me! A cowardly move used by desperate men, who are so selfish in their pursuit of glory that they are willing to risk killing their opponent. Riley: Which is exactly why I love it so much. After taking a second to regain his composure, Craven ignores Soapdish’s pleas, and goes after the Champion. Lifting Williams to his feet, Craven strenuously presses him high over his head for a Gorilla Press Slam! Shockingly, Craven tosses Williams into the ropes! Once again, Williams gruesomely lands throat first on the top rope! The American Airlines Arena responds even more negatively than before, nearly threatening to riot! “BOOOOOOOOOO!” “CRAVEN SUCKS! CRAVEN SUCKS! CRAVEN SUCKS!” Paying no mind to the infuriated fans that are demanding his blood, Craven helps the gasping World Champion to his feet, and pushes him down in a front facelock. Hooking his huge tree trunk like legs around Williams’ torso, Craven drops back to the mat, applying the deadly Guillotine Choke! Comet: CRAVEN CLUTCH! CRAVEN CLUTCH! Riley: Considering Craven has done crushed his wind pipe, Williams doesn’t have a chance in hell of surviving this! Getting the jitters, the fans jump out of their chairs as Craven squeezes the remaining air out of Williams’ lungs! Turning blue and purple, Williams wildly thrashes his arms about as his body is deprived of precious, precious oxygen! Soapdish gets all in Danny’s face, repeatedly asking him if he’s able to go on. Despite not having any breath, Williams shows his defiance with silence! Refusing to give up, Williams epically rolls his way towards the ropes, carrying Craven along for the ride! Stretching his arm out as far as possible, Williams wiggling fingers find the ropes, sending the crowd into a frenzy! Comet: Much like Ejiro, Craven is finding out that making Danny submit isn’t an easy task. Riley: No matter, Williams is so worn down, he should be easy pickings. A bit fatigued from all that strangling, Craven wipes some sweat off his brow, and takes a couple of heavy breaths. Free to breath the air again, Williams gradually returns to his natural skin tone, but it isn’t soon after that Craven pulls to his feet. Tucking Danny’s head down under his arm, Craven drops back to the mat, spiking his cranium into the mat. Comet: DDT! Craven jumps to his feet, and closely inspects Williams. Coming to the conclusion that Danny isn’t gonna be getting up any time soon, Craven points his finger to the heavens, signaling that he’s going up stairs. Leaving Williams laid out in the center of the ring, Craven steps out on to the ring apron, and scales the turnbuckles. Getting off their asses again, the excited fans watch Craven in awe, wandering what type of crazy high spot he’ll pull off next. Comet: Craven certainly hasn’t shied away from taking high risks tonight, perhaps will see the Swan Dive Head BUTT. Riley: Well, your not gonna win the World Championship by playing it safe, you got to show no fear, and give it your all! Struggling to stay balanced, Craven slowly rises to his full height, when Williams unexpectedly springs to his feet! The crowd roars as Williams begins violently shaking the top rope, causing Craven to slip, and crouch himself! “Oooooooooooooooh”, moans the cringing males in attendance! Taking aim, Williams leaps straight up into the air, blasting Craven off the turnbuckle with a sweet Dropkick! Craven tumbles all the way down to the floor, where he curls up in the fetal position, no doubt suffering from post crouch syndrome. Comet: Craven took too much time in climbing to the top, and now he’s in big trouble! Riley: But was it really necessary to crouch the man?! Comet: Was it necessary for Craven to drop Danny’s throat on the ropes! Riley: Apples and oranges, crushing a man’s wind pipe isn’t in the same ball park as crushing a man’s jewels! Some lines shouldn’t be crossed. Still having breathing problems, Danny momentarily hacks and coughs like a cat choking on a hair ball. Knowing full and well that it’s Craven that has to come to him, Williams stays in the ring, and clears his throat out. Gingerly climbing to his feet, Craven climbs up on to the ring apron with a miserable look on his face. Leaning over the ropes, Danny grabs The King of Nightmares by his hair, and pulls him to his feet. Considering that Craven is facing the crowd, Williams ducks his head under his arm, and hoists the big man over the ropes,.... BOOM! bringing him into the ring with a HUGE Backdrop! Exhausted from the big lift, Williams has to rest for a couple of seconds, before going for the cover. “One!” “Two!” Craven kicks out, but not with much authority! Getting to his feet, Williams adjusts his tights, and exclaims that it’s all over. Grabbing Craven by his short brown hair, Williams leads him to his feet, and stuffs him down in a standing head scissors. Getting hot, the crowd starts to get a little crazy! Comet: Williams, setting Craven up for the POWERBOMB! Riley: There’s no way he’s gonna get a man Craven’s size up, he’s bigger than TNT for crying out loud! Wrapping his meat hooks around Craven’s gut one at a time, Williams takes several long breaths in preparation for the laborious task ahead. Completing his breathing ritual, Williams dips his ass to the mat, and springs up! “Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”, strains Williams as his attempt comes up empty. Though his sweaty bangs are on in his eyes, Williams doesn’t dare release Craven to wipe them off his face. Instead, he takes several more breaths, and strains his guts out on another lift attempt! Williams’ arms and legs tremble as if he’s being electrocuted, yet still he cannot get the monstrous Nightmare King into the air. Riley: I told you he isn’t gonna get him up. To further complicate matters, Craven starts pushing his torso up, elevating Williams off the mat. The Champion struggles to hold Craven down, but it’s no use as he goes flipping over his back, courtesy of a Back Body Drop! A drained Danny Williams slowly staggers to his feet, but out of nowhere, Craven clips the back of his head with a good for a big man Enzuigiri! CRACK! The American Airlines Arena grows incredibly quiet as both men lie on the mat, sucking air. In better shape than the Champion, Craven reaches his feet first. Drifting back into the ropes, Craven waits for Williams to join him at a vertical base. Barely able to hold his eyes open, Danny blindly wobbles to his feet when Craven lunges at him! Craven executes a perfect scissors kick that finds it mark directly behind Williams’ head! POP! Goes Williams’ neck as he drops to his knees, and lifelessly flops face down on the mat! Comet: CRAVEN’S KICK, THIS COULD BE IT! Craven rolls Williams’ carcass over, and hooks his legs for the pin! Riley: I THINK WE MAY HAVE A NEW CHAMPION! Fearing the worse, the crowd silently watches Soapdish start the count. One! Two! ............... THRE-NO! After uselessly flailing his legs about, Williams finds the strength to just barely kick out! Stomping their feet with joy, the fans create some home made thunder! Suspecting that the count was slow, Craven shoots an evil glare at Soapdish as he drags the near dead Williams to his feet. Comet: Craven was a micro second away from becoming the new SWF World Champion! Riley: Micro-second my ass, he would have had him down for the three if it wasn’t for the corrupt official counting so slow! Wrenching Williams up on his shoulder, Craven screams,”Your devastation is at hand, prepare yourself!” Leaping into the air, Craven sits out, spiking the top of Danny’s head into the mat! CRUNCH! Williams limp body flops on it’s back, while Craven skips to his feet, and makes his way out on to the ring apron! Riley: Danny’s dead, why in the hell isn’t he going for the pin?! Comet: I guess he’s gonna use this opportunity to inflict even more damage on Williams, leaving nothing to chance. There isn’t a soul in the arena that isn’t standing as Craven scrambles up to the very top rope. Carefully balancing himself on the top rope, Craven wobbles with his arms out to his sides, as he rises to his full height. Camera flashes silhouette the King of Nightmares as he bravely free falls off the top rope, driving his forehead into Danny’s face! Comet: SWAN DIVE HEADBUTT! Craven hits Williams’ so hard that he bounces back a foot or two, nearly knocking himself out in the process! Shaking his head from side to side, Craven clears his head of some unwanted cobwebs, and slowly crawls on top of Williams for the pin! Riley: THIS IS IT, CRAVEN HAS JUST UPSET THE CHAMPION OF THE WORLD! No one in the building can believe their eyes as Soapdish slides to the mat, and starts the count! One! Two! .............. THREE! NO! Williams barely wiggles his shoulder up, and the crowd goes wild! Many are literally jumping up and down, and dancing in the aisles! A bit light headed, a disappointed Craven rolls back out on to the ring apron, and heads up top again! Comet: What’s this, Craven’s trying another headbutt! Riley: You need to have balls like that to be a Champion! Two back to back high risks, might just be enough to put Danny out for good. Williams is still lying prone in the same place as before, unable to doing anything but grimace. Craven eagerly poises himself on the top rope, holds his breath, and takes the plunge without thinking twice! SPLAT! Williams rolls out of the way, letting Craven go face first into the canvas! The crowd erupts with glee, seeing that Danny finally has an opening to get back in the match. Come: Live by the sword, die by the sword. Riley: Craven isn’t dead yet, he’s still in far better shape than Williams. Considering that both men are down, Soapdish half heartedly starts the “Ten” count. Getting nervous, the fans get behind Williams, showing their support with a chant. “Let’s go, Danny, let’s go!” clap!clap! clap!clap!clap! Despite all the crowd’s chanting and screaming, it’s Craven who starts to stir first. A bit out of it, Craven staggers a little as he climbs to his feet. Williams starts to move as well, but Craven puts a stop to that with a quick leg drop! Taking a few seconds to collect himself, Craven runs his thumb across his throat, letting everyone know that the match is over. Riley: I told you Craven would get up first. Comet: Indeed citizen Riley, not even a missed Headbutt from the top can make up all the punishment Danny’s absorbed. Looking to end the match with a second Craven Driver, The King of Nightmares effortlessly slings Williams up on his shoulder! Surging to life, Williams begins to frantically squirm and fight, wiggling his way out of Craven’s clutches! Free, Williams slides down Craven’s back, and lands on his feet! Annoyed, the challenger shoots around... CRACK! only to be met with a sickening reverse elbow! Knocked silly, Craven wobbles in place like a human punching bag! Taking aim, Williams spins at Craven like a discuss thrower, and.... BLAM! knocks the challenger out of his boots with a lethal elbow smash! Comet: ROLLING ELBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW! In a cloud of sweat, Craven spirals to the mat in a punch drunk stupor! Too weak to say on his feet, Williams collapses to his knees, struggling to regain his composure! Riley: Ugh, Craven has made a bad habit of recycling offense tonight, it was only a matter of time before Danny picked up the pattern. Comet: Can this be the turning point? The Rolling Elbow has become Williams’ most reliable momentum shifter, will it be enough to turn the tide to his favor? Moving at a sluggish pace, Williams slowly crawls on top of Craven for the pin attempt. Screaming their heads off, the red hot crowd counts along with Soapdish! “ONE!” “TWO!” ............... “THRE-Ooooooooooooh!” sighs the crowd as Craven wearily kicks out! Danny sits up with his hands on his hips, surprised by Craven’s fighting spirit. Comet: And would you look that, Danny can’t believe it! Riley: Well, when it takes him a damn hour to go for the pin, what can he expect? Jumping to his feet, Williams yanks Craven up by his tights, and clamps on a rear waistlock to a massive pop! Comet: Danny looking for one of his patent Release Germans, which were so crucial to his victory over Ejiro last week. Still having his wits about him, Craven relentlessly slams elbows into the side of Danny’s skull, forcing him to release the waistlock. With the go behind, Craven fluidity slaps on a Full Nelson! Comet: He’s going for the Nightfall Slam again! Riley: This is the move that allowed Craven to sprint out ahead of Williams at the opening bell! Before Craven can lock his hands together, Williams swipes his arms down, and rotates behind him! Quickly grabbing another waistlock, Williams snaps back with a high angle bridge, tossing his much larger foe over head! THUMP! Skidding across the mat, Craven lands hard on his upper back, the momentum nearly carrying him all the way over to his stomach! Comet: NOT SO DANGEROUS GERMAAAAAAAAAAN! Riley: For Craven’s bulky 6'6" frame, it’s pretty dangerous. Though it’s not a head drop, the crowd goes into hysterics anyway. Showing signs of fatigue, Danny crawls his way over to Craven’s corpse, and grabs him by his hair. Sitting, the King of Nightmares up, Williams bends his arm back, and tucks it under his under arm pit. Hooking his other arm under Craven’s chin, Williams links his hands together for a suffocating Buffalo Sleeper! Comet: BUFFALO SLEEPAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Riley: Since he couldn’t lift Craven for the Powerbomb earlier, Danny’s gonna try his luck with a submission hold this time. Shaking his head up and down, a screaming Danny Williams gives one the impression that’s working the hold as hard as he possible can! Feeling his brain shut down, Craven involuntarily thrashes his legs about, searching for ropes that are far out of his reach! Popping out of their chairs, the Floridians pump up the volume! Comet: If Craven doesn’t make the ropes, he’s sitting a duck! Craven desperately tries to scoot his way to the ropes, but he’s losing too much air. Not letting up, Williams’ exposes every bulging muscle in his body as he squeezes Craven’s head with all his might, bleeding him of his last drop of air! Fading at a rapid rate, Craven holds out his hand for the tap, but he experiences a change of heart. Instead of submitting, Craven opts to ram his thumb in Danny’s eye! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Recoiling in pain, Williams stumbles back into a corner, rubbing at his bad eye in a desperate attempt to get his vision back. Totally spent, Craven rests on the mat, unable to get up or even crawl. Soapdish attempts to chastise Craven, but the challenger is so out of it, he doesn’t hear a word of the lecture. Riley: Who needs the ropes when you rake the eyes, which is perhaps the most effective counter to the Buffalo Sleeper we’ve seen yet. Comet: I know that the title is at stake, but still, you have to respect the rules! In raged with Craven’s dirty tactics, a snarling Williams stomps his way over to the challenger, and jerks him to his feet. Before Danny can do anything, Craven blatantly rakes his eyes in clear view of the ref! Williams releases Craven, and blindly staggers away with watering eyes. Still dazed and confused, Craven collapses to his hands and knees, oblivious to Soapdish’s threats! Comet: Craven needs to refrain from this villainous behavior, and fight Danny fair, otherwise he’s gonna get d.q.ed, and lose his shot at the title! Riley: I think Craven knows that, so he probably won’t push the rules any further. He’s bending the rules just enough so that he can recover and regain advantage, not get himself disqualified. Somewhat recovering from the Danny’s dreaded submission hold, Craven stiffly stands up.... CRAAACK! only to get put back down by a devastating Running Elbow! Not bothering to cover Craven, an infuriated Williams mounts his chest, and pummels his head with mean spirited forearm smashes! The rabid fans cheer Williams on as he relentlessly pounds Craven into hamburger meat! Comet: It would seem that Craven’s dirty tactics has only made his situation worse! Riley: Not if he goes back to the eyes! Come on Craven, there right there in front of your face, just reach up and rake em like there’s no tomorrow! Having exhausted himself with strike throwing, Williams climbs off Craven’s battered body, and snap mares him into the center of the ring! To a deafening pop, Williams reapplies the Buffalo Sleeper! Comet: And now he’s going right back to the Buffalo Sleeper as if he’s daring Craven to try something funny again! Being in a very foul mood, Williams does his absolute best to make Craven’s stay in the hold a very memorable and unpleasant one! With a crazed expression on his face, Williams viciously twists Craven’s torso from side to side, letting his free arm lifelessly frail about in the breeze! Not able to withstand this living hell any longer, Craven quickly submits! DING! DING! DING! Comet: IT’S OVER, WILLIAMS RETAINS! Riley: My grand mother could last longer in than that damn hold, all it does is cut off your oxygen, wow, like that’s a big deal! Jumping for joy, Williams celebrates his victory by rapidly pumping his fist into the air! In jubilation, the fans turn the American Airlines Arena turns into a mad house! Waiting for Williams to settle down, Funyon grabs him by the wrist, and raises his arm, making the win an official one. Fuynon: Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the match by pin fall, at 13 minutes and 22 seconds.......AND STILL SWF WORLD CHAMPION......DANNY WILLIAMS! Upon receiving his title, Williams waves the heavy belt in the air, letting all of his fans get a real good look at it! The fans behave as of it’s some sort of rock concert, rushing to ride side like maniacs, hoping to get a closer look at the World Champion. Comet: Though he was psychically out matched, Williams out smarted Craven, learned from his mistakes, and never let him hit the same move twice. Riley: Craven did successfully thumb him in the eye twice. Comet: And you saw where that got him. Well fans were all out of time, so on behalf of my trusty side kick, Riley... Riley: Hey! Comet: I would like to wish you all a good night! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted January 17, 2004 Results: Now, when have I ever posted these? (Note: Ignoring the times I have, of course). About as good a show as can be expected from three matches, so I'd suggest at least giving it a once-over. The card will be up in a little while, not that anyone is really waiting on it at the moment... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
