Guest Suicide King Report post Posted January 27, 2004 SWF Smarkdown January 26, 2004 LIVE from the SOLD-OUT Toledo Sports Arena in Toledo, Ohio!! Non-Title Singles Match Dace Night v. Charlie "Grappler" Matthews Dace and Matthews have been on opposite sides of a stables confrontation between the Unholy Trinity and the Unnamed. Now they square off for pride, vengeance and something more important... the winner of this match gets to pick his entry number into the Clusterf*ck match (well, eveything except #1, that's taken)! Add in that a singles victory over the ICTV Champion will put Dace on the fast track to some singles gold of his own, and this is a pivitol match! Handicap Match Micheal Craven v. Coy West & WildChild & Johnny Dangerous Craven has certainly gotten on the Commissioner's bad side and he has turned to some of the best talent in the SWF to teach him a lesson. Coy is new but promising, and Wild & Dangerous are the Tag Champs. What is in it for them? Good question, and it deserves a good answer. The winner of this match will be owed a favor by the Commissioner. Singles Match "The Superior One" Tom Flesher v. Mike Van Siclen This has been brewing for a couple of weeks now, and with the challenge issued and accepted on Lockdown, it is time to get it on! Main Event Tag Team Match The Unholy Trinity ("Deathwish" Danny Williams & Terrance "Janus" Bailey) v. The Unnamed (Va'aiga & "The Notorious One" John Duran) The Unnamed and the Trinity have been at each other's throats for weeks now, and the animosity is just growing. At CF, Danny will face off against Va'aiga for the World Heavyweight Title, while Janus and Duran will try their luck in the CF match itself, looking to be the next man to climb the mountain. Tensions are high, and I have a feeling that things will get worse before they get better... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Suicide King Report post Posted January 27, 2004 (edited) As the faces of John Duran, Va'aiga and Charlie Matthews fill the SmarkTron, a cloud of smoke fills the entrance area, lit by a deep shade of blue from the gateway lights. Four figures appear in the gate, stood in shadow, staring down the entrance ramp. In the howling wind comes the stinging rain, See it driving nails into the souls on the tree of pain, From the firefly, a red orange glow, See the face of fear running scared in the valley below… Cyan strobe lights fired from the entrance gates rise slowly from floor level to pierce the murky deep blue cloud, silhouetting the wrestlers standing in the entrance way as black against the pale blue. WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAH! A burst of bright white pyro fires from the left side of the entrance ramp. WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAH! A second burst of bright white pyro fires from the right side of the entrance ramp, slightly further up. BULLET THE BLUE SKY! BULLET THE BLUE SKY! BULLET THE BLUE! BULLET THE BLUE! The four men, Duran, Va’aiga, Grappler and Matheson trailing behind walk slowly out of the entrance area and begin their slow march towards the ring. In the locust wind comes a rattle and hum, Jacob wrestled the angel and the angel was overcome, You plant a demon seed, you raise a flower of fire, See them burning crosses, see the flames higher and higher! A burst of flame from the ring posts shoots upwards into the arena clearing the air of the smoke and strobes and as the light from the pyro dies down the four men are assembled in the centre of the ring, the three wrestlers standing ready to fight. Comet: Well the Unnamed are here tonight on Smarkdown, and I think Va’aiga is looking to make a statement ahead of the big PPV main event. Va’aiga waits for the boos and jeers that always surround his entrances to die down and puts his microphone to his lips. Va’aiga: Last time Danny Williams, we did things my way. The OLD my way. Low down and dirty. Hardcore. And that’s cool with the Maori, but that’s all been done. So this time Danny Williams… this time I’m challenging you to fight me YOUR way. The crowd gives a mixed reaction. Va’iga grins and continues. Va’aiga: See in the Junior League of this great federation, me and one of the guys you run with - we had a little match. I know you liked it… I know you respected it. So let me ask you this Danny. Are you ready to walk the King’s Road? Are you ready to show your fighting spirit? Are you ready to bust it out like the Budokan? Are you ready to have your skull smashed into the canvas, only to get up, only to have it smashed down again? Are you ready to fight the Maori…? One time for all time… ALL JAPAN STYLE? Va’aiga: I even took the time to have Mr Matheson here draw up a contract. Get your ass out here and put your name on the bottom, and at Clusterfuck, in the main event we get it on. Gold on the line. James Matheson takes a contract out of his briefcase (filled with papers today) and holds it out towards the entrance ramp, taunting Danny to come out and sign it. Some very familiar entrance music hits… CRACK! The crack of a bat and the roar of the crowd announce Grand Slam!! It quickly fades into the opening drumline of "Go Home" by Blessid Union of Souls. The SmarkTron lights up with baseball highlights mixed with big spots from Grand Slam's matches while flashing the words "Grand Slam", "Mark Stevens" and "The Heavy Hitter". The various multicolored lights flash in time with the rhythmic drumbeats until the drums roll fast and the lead singer yells out "Go Home", then the arena is flooded with bright white light!! Red and white pyro explodes at the top of the entrance ramp!! When the smoke clears and everyone can see again, "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens is standing underneath the SmarkTron!!! The crowd erupts in even more cheers for the Heavy Hitter!!! Grand Slam has a microphone himself and stares intensely up the ramp at the Maori Badass. Grand Slam: Evening gentlemen. Now as you know, I can’t have this federation run by every psychopath, every violent, nasty, evil minded pro wrestler with his own agenda. I just can’t have you just walking out here and challenging the world champion. You wanna face Danny Williams? You wanna try your hand against our world champion? You wanna try... And Grand Slam is interrupted as smoke billows out from the entrance way, lit red by the gateway lights as red lasers shine across the entrance area, creating a mesh of light, accompanied by the familiar sound of… LET FREEDOM RING WITH A SHOTGUN BLAST! Davidian by Machinehead starts up and as a blast of Pyro fires off. Red strobe lights light the passage up the ramp. The three members of the Unholy Trinity step through the laser mesh out of the smoke and stride up the ramp, stopping halfway. Danny Williams holds the mic in his hand aloft, addressing Grand Slam as the Trinity walk past him on their way to the ring. Danny Williams: Grand Slam. LET HIM TRY. Williams walks up to Matheson, snatches the contract out of his hand, scrawls a quick signature on it and drops it at the Maori’s feet. Va’aiga waits for Matheson to pick it up as he exchanges a stare with Danny. Flanked by the phsycially impressive Grappler and the cold and calculating Duran, Va’aiga casts an imposing shadow across Deathwish Danny. Flanked by the monster Terrence Bailey and the bloodthirsty Dace Night Danny Williams is no small presence himself. Duran stares at Janus, both men knowing that the HCG title will be on the line soon enough. Dace Night stares at Matthews, looking for that IC belt the Grappler holds round his waist. Va’aiga and Danny step forward away from their groups and stand no more than an inch away from each other. Comet: It’s on! Va’aiga vs Danny Williams WILL happen! fade to commercials Edited January 27, 2004 by Suicide King Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Suicide King Report post Posted January 27, 2004 *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM BOOM BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!* SWF Smarkdown kicks back into high gear as pyro EXPLODES anywhere and everywhere! Nightrage’s “Hero” rocks the Toledo Sports Arena! The Ohio fans BREAK OUT INTO AN ENORMOUS OVATION~ as the Trinity member appears through the curtain and into the arena! Funyon’s booming voice greets everyone back to Smarkdown officially. “Ladies and gentlemen, this non-title opening contest is scheduled for one fall, and the winner will be able to choose his number in this Sunday’s CLUSTERFUCK! Introducing first, from Birmingham, England, weighing in at 252 pounds, representing the UNHOLY TRINITY, this is DAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE,” “FUCKING!” “-NIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!” Dace power walks to the ring and slides under the bottom rope, raising his arms high in the air. “Welcome to SWF Smarkdown, citizens!” Cyclone Comet greets, “what a night of action we have on the last stop before the annual Clusterf-“ “SHUT YO MOUTH~!” screams Riley, grinning, “and yes, it’s almost time for my favorite pay-per-view of the year. Twenty sweaty bodies in that ring, all vying for one goal: a title shot at From the Fire!” “And this match will not only give the winner momentum going into the match, but they’ll be able to choose whatever entry number they want!” The arena lights go black as Metallica’s “Some Kind of Monster” kicks in. The crowd goes from an all-out ovation to “get the hell out of this fed and be a shoe salesman” jeering. A spotlight shines on the stage as the ICTV Champion marches out, manager, as always, in tow. Funyon continues his introductions. “And his opponent! Accompanied by ‘Mister 2004’ James Matheson, from Kansas City, Missouri, weighing in at 301 pounds, he is a member of THE UNNAMED~ and the SWF INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPION, CHAAAAAAAAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MAAAAAAAAAAAAATTHEWSSSSSS!” Grappler ignores the jeering of the crowd and keeps his focus intently on the ring, deliberately pacing as James Matheson shouts strategy and motivation at him. Matthews coolly climbs onto the apron and enters the ring, where he takes off his ICTV Title belt and hands it to James Matheson. Before Charlie can even focus on Dace, the Horrorcore one attacks him with clubbing blows to the back, and this match is underway! *DING DING DING* “Quite different from how the other matches between these two have began,” notes Comet, “as Dace is trying to establish himself as the aggressor right away. Even though this is a non-title match, he knows that beating the man that beat HIM for the title will boost him up the ladder.” “Actually, I think Dace just wants to get an early advantage to save face. Grapple-sticks is going to kick his ass later, and he doesn’t want to be known for getting NO offense in.” Matthews tries to shake off the blows, but this *is* Dace executing them, so they hurt. Night shoves Grappler into the corner and lays in some hard elbows to the head, before switching to the still-extremely-painful-but-not-so-much knife-edge chops. *SMACK* “WOOOOOOOO! *SMACK* “WOOOOOOOOOO!” Charlie tries to beg off, but Dace will have none of it. He whips Matthews to the opposite corner, but Grappler spins around, reversing the whip and sending Night into the corner. Dace hits and Charlie tries to grab a breather, but this whip only serves to fire Night up, as he charges out of the corner and practically beheads Matthews with a huge lariat! The Ohioans erupt as Matthews drops down to the canvas, and before Night can do anymore early damage, Charlie rolls under the bottom rope and down to the floor to consult with James Matheson! “DACE F’N NIGHT!” “DACE F’N NIGHT!” After some encouragement from Matheson, Grappler cautiously slides back into the ring. Dace is waiting for him and charges with a BIG running elbow, but Matthews is able to sidestep it. As Dace turns around, Matthews kicks him in the gut and traps him in a front facelock, before lifting Night off the mat and sending him over and down to the mat again with a nicely executed vertical suplex. Charlie turns over onto his stomach, but he keeps the front facelock on, and this time he wrenches it in to try and slow down the High Priest. “This is incredible!” notes Riley, “James Matheson just has that healing touch. It works on everyone!” “That’s nice to hear, Bobbo,” replies Comet, “I just can’t get over the fact that…well, MATTHEWS WENT TO A RESTHOLD ALREADY! Doesn’t he read the HOLT reports? My god, people are bored to death of these things!” “And I’ve told you time and time again, Comet, that Matthews and Matheson don’t CARE about what the fans want. They’re out there to win, and I’d say Grappler’s done a pretty damn good job of that lately.” Matthews grinds in with the front facelock, but with it being so early in the match, the extremely vital Night is able to rise up to a knee, and then up to his feet! He sends a knee into Matthews’ midsection once, twice, and three times, and then he arches back, sending the 300-pound Grappler up and over with a release northern lights suplex! The crowd explodes back to life as Matthews’ moment of fan torture ends, and Dace begins to stomp down on the ICTV Champion. Night picks Charlie off of his feet and grabs him by the arm, whipping him to the opposite ropes. Dace puts his head down as Matthews comes back, and the Champion is smart enough to lift his knee into Night’s face to stun him. From there, Charlie ducks behind Night and wraps his arms around him in a waistlock, before turning on his heel and dropping Dace face-down on the mat, and he keeps the waistlock in tight! “BOOOOOOOOOORING!” “BOOOOOOOOOORING!” Matheson shouts at the fans, using one of his weaker insults, telling them to “Wipe the snow off their asses and pay attention to the match!” Meanwhile, Dace is already sick of fighting off restholds, and he easily crawls towards the bottom rope, which he tightly grabs on to. Referee Nick Soapdish immediately tells Charlie to release the hold, most likely falling asleep himself. Grappler obliges, but not before picking Dace up and leaning him against the ropes, sending a clubbing blow onto his spine. Matthews wraps in another tight waistlock and this time prepares to arch back for a German Suplex, but Night holds onto the ropes, preventing the suplex! Dace executes a standing switch, turning the tables on Grappler, and this time he is able to arch back and send Grappler right over his head with a German suplex, which he holds onto in a bridge! Nick Soapdish races down to count the first pin of the match. “Thank MIGHTY ZEUS!” cries Comet, “I was about to fall asleep, but luckily Night was there with a proverbial bucket of water to bring me back to life!” “Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” shoots Riley, “you hate the man’s boring style, the fans hate the man’s boring style, WE GET IT ALREADY.” “ONE!” “TWO!” KICKOUT! Matthews rolls off of his shoulders easily, but stays down on the mat. He scurries and comes to a sitting position in a corner of the ring, but even this doesn’t protect him from the DEVASTATING DACE~, who decides to charge and send his sole across Matthews’ face, murdering him with a deadly running boot scrape! Charlie tries to beg off from any more Night punishment, but the high priest of Horrorcore ignores him and backs up again, this time charging at Matthews and sending his knee right into his face, snapping his neck back in the process! “DACE F’N NIGHT!” “DACE F’N NIGHT!” Night grabs Charlie by the arm and brings him to his feet, only to pull the bigger man in and scoop him up, twisting around and slamming him to the mat with a brutal powerslam! Dace keeps the pressure on and hooks Matthews’ far leg, triggering another pinfall! “ONE!” “TWO!” NO! Instinctively, Charlie escapes Dace’s clutches and rolls onto his stomach, close to the ropes. Night, surprisingly, backs off, allowing Grappler to get to his feet. As he does, Dace quickly grabs a hold of Matthews and drops to his knees, flipping Matthews over his shoulders with a fireman’s carry takedown. As the Champion hits the mat, Night drops onto his buttocks and wraps his legs around Charlie’s neck in the shape of a four, executing the Figure Four Sleeper Hold to a loud ovation from the Ohioans! “Before you say ANYTHING, Bobbo, the fans are cheering THIS submission because they actually LIKE Dace. Now, let’s turn our attention away from reactions to submissions and focus on the match itself.” “You’re very defensive tonight, Comet. Anyway, I think it’s obvious that Dace is trying to cut off Grappler’s air circulation to keep him winded for the latter parts of this match. But Nick Soapdish better do his job and make sure Night isn’t blatantly choking Grappler out!” Matthews wriggles and struggles and twists and cries, trying to do whatever he can to escape the sleeper. Dace keeps the hold locked on tight, but Charlie is able to slide on his bulbous ass, closer and closer…until he can drape his left leg over the nearest bottom rope! The crowd lets their disappointment be known as Night begrudgingly releases the hold. Charlie rolls over to a corner where he catches his breath, and when Dace gets to his feet, Grappler charges, with his shoulder lowered- -and Dace moves! Charlie crashes head-on with the second turnbuckle, and as he staggers backwards, Night traps him in a front facelock and snaps back, drilling Grappler with a big DDT! The crowd roars as Night covers Matthews, and Soapdish drops to count the fall! “ONE!” “TWO!” “THR-NO!” Night gets off of Matthews and simply glares at Soapdish, giving Charlie time to again collapse against a corner. Matheson rushes over to him and whispers a delectable plot in his ear, causing Matthews to smile. With that, James leaps onto the apron, and Nick Soapdish runs over to stop him from entering the ring. Night sees the distraction but doesn’t fall for it, instead trudging towards Matthews. As he approaches, however, Charlie grabs Dace by the waist and socks him right in the balls! *CHING!* With Dace doubled over, Matthews wraps an arm around his leg and drops him to the mat with a schoolboy! Matheson drops off the apron and Soapdish turns around to see the pin, and he begins counting! Matthews grabs the tights! “ONE!” Matthews puts his feet on the second rope! “TWO!” KICKOUT! “That was RIDICULOUS!” notes Comet, “the fact that Citizen Matthews has to resort to so much cheating this early in the match say something about his character.” “Oh, look who’s all mighty and high,” scoffs Bobbo, “like you’ve never cheated. I know your wife has.” “Bobbo, I don’t have a – HOW DARE YOU, FIEND!” Dace escapes the mass amount of cheating hysteria and slides to the outside of the ring. It appears that he just goes outside to catch his breath (and make sure his jingle bells are still attached), but once he does this, he sets his sights on James Matheson, and unbeknownst to the manager, Night charges, swinging his elbow around and connecting with his head! *CRAAAACK!* The crowd EXPLODES as Matheson gets knocked out COLD from the running elbow, and, satisfied, Dace slides back into the ring… *BOOM!* …right into a Charlie Matthews big boot! The force spins Dace around and pushes him against the ropes. Grappler then leaps up, wrapping his arm around Night’s throat and falling back to the mat, where he wraps his legs around Night’s body to complete the rear naked choke and body scissors! The crowd, instinctively, breaks into another “BOOOOOOOORING!” chant as Grappler executes his favorite wear-down hold. Night struggles, gasps, and fights to break out of the choke, to no avail. Nick Soapdish continually asks Dace if he wants to quit, but the Brummie answers with a resounding “NO!” every time. Night looks like he’s going to fade, and with each “BORING” chant from the crowd, a new idea comes into the twisted mind of Charlie Matthews. He releases the rest hold! “What in Adam Smith’s wealth is he doing?!” shouts Comet, “my god, this truly is a day to remember! Charlie releases a rest hold on his own free will! Start spreading the news!” “Relax, Comet, I’m sure he’s got a plan concocted and whatnot. Charlie ALWAYS has a plan.” Indeed, Grappler looks focused as he brings Dace up to his feet…and wraps his arms around his waist, locking in a tight BEARHUG! The crowd practically RIOTS as Matthews grins a mile-wide grin and keeps the hold in tighter. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORING!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORING!” The chants get louder than ever, and even Nick Soapdish nods off. Seeing this, James Matheson’s head almost explodes, and he leaps onto the apron again! He admonishes the referee, but as he’s doing this- *CHING!* -Dace pays Grappler back, lifting his knee up into Matthews’ jinx! Charlie howls in pain and the crowd howls in approval. Even Coy West is heard howling from his trailer. It’s a howlfest! “HOWL!” shouts Riley, “this just ISN’T FAIR! Comet, you’re the first one to admonish Grappler when he does something wrong, why are you not saying anything now?!” “It’s very simple, Bobbo. A little theory called Hammurabi’s Code. An eye for an eye, remember? I guess it’s also a testicle for a testicle, too!” With Grappler noticeably stunned, Dace charges to the opposite ropes and rebounds, and as he does he shoots his leg up and rocks Matthews’ face with an enormous YAKUZA KICK! *CRAAAAAACK* The force not only pushes Charlie against the ropes, but OVER the ropes and down to the floor! “Sweet mercy!” cries Comet, “if Dace does that this Sunday, Grappler would have been eliminated from the Clusterfuck!” Matthews struggles to find his bearings on the outside, not exactly sure where he is as Nick Soapdish starts the ten count. “ONE!” Matthews brings himself up and leans against the ring apron. “TWO!” ...and Dace charges, sliding down and hitting Charlie with a big baseball slide that knocks him into the guardrail! “THREE!” Dace joins Grappler on the outside, laying in some hard elbows to Matthews’ upper body and head. “FOUR!” Night grabs Charlie by the arm and whips him into the stairs…but Matthews reverses the momentum, and Night goes knees-first into the stairs, and the force causes him to flip all the way over the stairs and hit the hard concrete! “FIVE!” Satisfied, Grappler wearily slides back into the ring, deciding to take the easy road and let Dace get counted out. “SIX!” Night struggles to get up, using the announce table for assistance. “SEVEN!” Dace reaches his feet, and he groggily approaches the ring. “EIGHT!” He stops to check on his knee for a second, to make sure everything is okay- “NINE!” -but realizing what Soapdish is up to, Dace quickly reenters the ring. Charlie immediately welcomes him back with stomps and kicks, before he brings him back up to his feet. Grappler ducks under Dace’s arm and hoists him up into the air, almost in a torture rack position, which he holds on to for a few seconds. As Matthews soaks in the jeers of the crowd he falls backwards, dropping Night back-first on the mat with the Judgment Slam. Grapplestar floats through right into a pin, which Nick Soapdish drops down to count. “ONE!” “TWO!” KICKOUT! “Things are really starting to get heated here!” notes Comet, “it’s getting down to the wire, and one false move could cost one of these men the match!” “Well, it obviously WON’T be Matthews,” replies Riley, probably jinxing Charlie, “because he’s in control, duh.” Charlie cockily brings Dace up to his feet and places him in a standing headscissors, signaling for the infamous, dreaded POWERBOMB! Matthews reaches down and flips Dace up…but Night is able to wriggle down and land behind Grappler! The crowd explodes as Dace spins around and attacks Matthews from behind. He wraps one arm around Matthews’ shoulder and the other around his neck, and then he links his arms. The crowd explodes as Dace prepares for takeoff with the Good F’N Night…but Charlie’s trick knee acts up, and it recoils back, connecting this time with Dace’s jinx! *CHING!* Somehow, Nick Soapdish doesn’t see this, so Grappler continues with his devious assault. “Hey, hey, hey!” sings Riley, “it’s Ham-and-cheese’s code or whatever!” “Bobbo, they were even before,” sighs Comet, “that’s just Grappler doing whatever he can to salvage a win.” This time, Matthews hoists Dace onto his shoulders for a fireman’s carry and charges forward, forcefully dropping to his side and drilling Night onto his neck with the Running Death Valley Driver! The move ‘popularized’ by Show, called the Time Machine, connects with sheer BRUTALITY and the fans let out an “ooooh!” upon impact. The immense jeering commences as Grappler falls on top of Dace, and Nick Soapdish counts the pin! “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREE!” *DING DING DING* The jeering grows even louder as “Some Kind of Monster” kicks in again and Grappler rolls off of Dace, exhausted in victory. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” booms Funyon, “the winner of this match, the SWF ICTV CHAMPION, CHAAAAAAAAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MAAAAAAAAATTHEWSSSSSSSSS!!!!” James Matheson leaps into the ring and congratulates his meal ticket, before beckoning Funyon for the microphone. “Snowed-in idiots across the northern plain!” Matheson greets, to the jeers of the crowd, “My client and I would like to inform all of you that due to his winning of this match, the SWF Intercontinental Television Champion and the man that will undoubtedly win the Clusterfuck has chosen his entrance number…at TWENTY! Thank you and have a delectable night!” The crowd jeers their disapproval of Matthews’ laziness, but Grappler smiles as he slides under the ring with Matheson and exits up the ramp. “Good god!” cries Comet, “Grappler wins this match via nefarious tactics, and calls the FINAL entry spot as his domain! What does this mean for the SWF? What does this mean for the CLUSTERFUCK?!” “It means he’s an odds-on favorite, baby!” cheers Riley, “and up next, you can see some more losers, but also some winners! …that made sense, right?” As we FADE OUT Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Suicide King Report post Posted January 27, 2004 Flashing back to the Toledo Sports Arena wanders the watchful eye of the SWF camera. Taking a momentary tour of the crowd, the camera catches view of a number of signs plastered about the populace such as ‘’w00+’, ‘Three on One = pr0n’, and the time tested favorite of ‘Craven’s Mom is a Bitch’. Happy is the crowd one and all, regardless of the result of the last match between Dace Night and The Grappler. After all, it was a Charlie Matthews match; half of them were probably asleep for the damn thing, and the other half we’re at the concessions stands. (You know… since he’s DULL… Subtlety is for bitches… And speaking of bitches, let’s go to Bobby Riley) “Hey you humanoids,” rants the poof, “this next match is what I like to call the ‘Mark Stevens screws over a deserving athlete’ match of the day! Hooray!” “Now Bobby…” “No you shut up, Comet,” interjects Riley. “This is a THREE on ONE match with the tag team champions and a crazy redneck bastard fighting one guy! How in the name of sweet zombie Jesus does Michael Craven deserve this garbage?” “Let me check,” replies Comet, pretending to be deep in thought. “Oh yeah, he tried to bully Mark Stevens into giving him a World Title shot and it exploded in his face.” “Oh, so what! Does Mark Stevens shoot jaywalkers too? He already put Craven into the dreaded number one position of the Clusterfuck. What more does he need to do to the guy who rightly deserves another shot at Danny Williams?” “I would say he needed to book him in a handicapped match,” Comet replies coolly. “Well, if Michael Craven wins this thing… let me just say I WILL laugh my ass off.” Funyon roars into his microphone, “Ladies and gentlemen, this next contest is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit and will be contested under handicapped match rules, one fall to a finish. Introducing… FIRST!” With the sounds of Method Man and Redman’s ‘Y.O.U.’ pumping through the arena, the entire crowd gets up to its collective feet as the music of the tag team champions fills the arena. Popping through the curtain with all the energy of a power plant bound the unlikely trio of Wildchild, Johnny Dangerous and, standing out from the Tag Team Champions like a sore thumb, the blue jean-wearing Coy West, who is completing the ensemble this evening with a Sears Craftsman T-shirt. But as all three of the team exchange high fives at the top of the ramp way, it is obvious that there are not going to be any problems between these three very different people. “Introducing first, he weighs in tonight at 240 pounds and hails from his Recreational Vehicle the S. S. General Lee Junior. He is known as ‘The Coyote’ COY WESSSSSSSSSST! And his partners, weighing in at a total combined weight of 431 pounds, they are the reigning Smart Marks Wrestling Federation WORLD Tag Team Champions. They are Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous, WILD AND DANGEROUSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” Suddenly, Comet jumps out of his seat in alarm. “HOLY OSIRIS! LOOK OUT, FELLOWS!” CLANG! Coming right out from the team of three stalks the shadowy form of ‘The King of Nightmares’ brandishing a steel chair high above his head. Immediately crushing Johnny Dangerous across the back with the weapon, Michael Craven brings ‘The Barracuda’ down to his knees as the crowd looks on with complete shock and awe! Turning immediately at the sound of the impact, Wildchild gets a complete face full of metal as the folding chair strikes him right in the face with eye-shattering impact! BOOM! Coy West tries to help! BOOM! But he gets more of the same! “This is insane,” reports Comet. “Michael Craven has gone off the freaking tuna truck! He is trying to destroy his three opponents before the match even gets underway.” The Toledo faithful chant, “CRAVEN SUCKS! CRAVEN SUCKS! CRAVEN SUCKS!” “Brilliant,” shouts Bobby Riley over the boos of the Ohio crowd, “Michael Craven knew that this whole match was just a farce, so he kicked over the damn table and made his own rules. I love that man.” “You love a whole lot of men.” Laying waste to his entire opposition, Michael Craven waves the dented chair over his head as the crowd continues to let him have it for being such a complete dick. But with the match not officially underway, Craven has no need for rules of any sort and thus continues to disregard them as he smashes the metal chair down on the back of the downed Coy West once again! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Not nearly satisfied with his sadistic sneak attack, Michael crushes Wildchild across the head once more with the weapon with enough force to keep even the former Hardcore Champion down on the floor in a huddled lump. Finally dropping the chair in obvious anger and frustration, Craven turns his attention back towards Johnny Dangerous, the man he hit with the chair initially, and starts to drag him towards the ring. “Brilliant! ONE MORE,” laughs Bobby Riley. “Michael Craven has not only beat the crap out of those three dimwits, but he wants to actually win the match as well!” “Oh yeah, he’s a criminal mastermind. Step one: hit everyone with a chair. Step two: Pin someone. The Ultra-Humanite he is not.” Finally reaching the ring, Craven shoves the super spy underneath the bottom rope and into the squared circle where referee Nick Soapdish is waiting. Stepping into the ring with an obviously bubbling over amount of rage, Craven demands that the referee start the contest officially. But the referee stands firm, and relays to the Nightmare that he is under strict orders not to start the match until all four men get into the ring. Suffice to say, that goes over like a lead fart. Clutching Soapdish by the lapels, Craven forces the referee back to a corner and gestures outside the ring, providing the official with a casual reminder of what has just transpired. “Craven in despicable,” growls Comet. “Look at him bullying poor Soapdish in there!” Visibly gulping from the carnage, Soapdish nonetheless manages to stand firm in the face of a Nightmare come to life. Almost sighing in the frustration of it all, Craven cocks back a fist in preparation of knocking the block off the referee as he suddenly feels a tug on his legs as Johnny Dangerous cradles him from behind and pulls him into a schoolboy roll up! Instantly signaling for the bell, Soapdish dives into position and starts to count out Craven as fast as he can! ONE! TWO! NOOOOOOOOOO! Craven, although shocked by the rollup, is still able to kick away just before the count reaches three. Immediately getting up to his feet, Michael kicks the kneeling Dangerous right across the face and sends the spy rolling to the canvas. Ironically enough, though, Craven should be thanking Dangerous for nudging this battle along into an official contest. After all, both of Dangerous’ partners are still on the ramp way, having been crushed in the face with the steel chair and Craven still has a monstrous advantage over Dangerous. Cracking a sardonic smirk over the irony of the situation, Michael continues to batter away at the World Tag Team Champion with a number of stomps across the head and chest. “Citizen Craven needs to finish this thing off as quickly as he can,” calls out Comet. “He has the advantage here over Johnny Dangerous, but he has to know that there are going to be two other guys that will recover eventually, and then shall come a reckoning.” “Oh yeah,” agrees Bobby Riley. “After all, he hit Wildchild and West in the heads. We all know that they don’t have a whole lot up there to hurt. And why don’t you comment on this biased refereeing?” “Biased refereeing?” “That’s right,” shouts Riley. “Soapdish wasn’t going to start the match until all four men got into the ring, but as soon as Johnny Dangerous had a pinfall attempt, he started the match immediately!” Comet shrugs. “I call that Craven getting what he had coming to him, Robert. If he hadn’t accosted the referee, and badgered him into starting the match prematurely, perhaps the referee wouldn’t have obliged him; be careful what you wish for!” “Bah,” snorts Riley. “Leave it to you to stick up for ‘Grand Spam’ and his crooked officiating staff!” Pulling the struggling Dangerous off the canvas, Craven seems to intent on softening Dangerous up a wee bit more as he places Johnny into a corner. BANG! BANG! BANG! Lowering a shoulder, ‘The King of Nightmares’ buries tackle after tackle into the chest of his opponent time and again until Johnny is completely out of breath and leaning on the turnbuckle for support. Grabbing the stunned Dangerous by the arm, Craven winds the arm up and uses it to send Johnny hard across the ring with all of his 280 pounds behind it. Crashing into the buckles with his back, Johnny staggers out of the corner and right into the grasp of the Gulf Coast Hurricane. Wrapping his hand around the gullet of the spy, Craven chokes Dangerous down for a moment before jerking him high into the air! WHAM! Holding Dangerous there for a mere moment, Cravens jams Johnny to the canvas with a high impact chokeslam! “OH DADDYYYYYY,” splooges Bobby. “This one is over!” Hooking a leg half-heartedly, Craven looks to put this match away in short order as Soapdish makes a count with his reliably even cadence: ONE! TWO! THRENOOOOOOOOOOOOO! KICK OUT AT TWO! Exploding with as much force as he can, the Barracuda manages to get a shoulder off the canvas as Craven looks at the referee with a raised eyebrow. Getting to his feet, Michael once again backs the referee off all the while yelling at him about the difference in counts that have taken place thus far in this contest. Slapping his hands together, Craven demonstrates how quickly he wants the referee to count before going back to the business at hand. Grabbing Johnny off the canvas, Craven once again shoves his foe back into a turnbuckle and returns to his brutal shoulder tackle assault. But, even as the Chimera pulverizes Johnny’s abdominal area, it becomes clear that perhaps Craven’s window of opportunity may be closing, as West and Wildchild are finally beginning to stir at the top of the stage. And Wildchild especially seems to have a whole lot of motivation to get to the ring as he has already begun to crawl down to the ring on his hands and knees in order to save his partner. “Look at the determination by Wildchild,” marvels Comet. “This young superstar is showing the will of Zeus as tries to make it down to ringside to save his partner! Can he make it in time?” Meanwhile, the match in the ring continues to unfold as Craven once again tosses Dangerous across the ring with another Irish whip, but this time, Johnny grabs onto the ropes as he crashes against the turnbuckles, simply sticking in the corner instead of rebounding out. Seeing this, Craven quickly comes to the realization that he is going to have to go in after Dangerous and does so by charging ahead for a lariat! POP! … But runs head-on into a knee to the face! Jammed in the face by Dangerous, Craven stumbles backwards out of the corner with his back to his opponent. Putting his hands on his knees, Craven shakes his head in order to get his mind together, but the Barracuda has no interest in allowing that to happen! And although his body is screaming for some sweet Swedish massage, Johnny comes running out of the corner with a clothesline aimed right at taking the head off his opponent... … But it takes Dangerous a moment too long to press his momentary advantage, and he finds himself driven down to a canvas with a Fujiwara armbar! Immediately floating over the top, Craven clasps his hands together and begins to pry backward on his head with a cruel crossface! “Tap out you son of a bitch,” screams Riley as Johnny immediately starts to shout out in pain as Craven continues to pull back on his head with all he has! “This is a bad idea,” remarks Comet. “I don’t know if Craven should be trying to draw a submission here with two guys outside of the ring. If I were him, I would have tried for a pinning combination and tried to sneak out of here with the win.” But if wishes were fishes, we’d have a whole lot more salmon. Craven continues to crank away on the screaming Johnny Dangerous, but the super-spy calls upon the resolve that has served him so well as a field agent, and resists the urge to end his own pain by tapping out. “What a vital bastard Johnny is,” says Comet. “He’s showing the endurance of Phidippides against the fearsome might of the King of Nightmares!” “I don’t care if Johnny has the endurance of Superman,” replies Riley, “eventually he’s going to HAVE to give in to the pain!” But, as if the gods are conspiring to contradict Bobby Riley, that pain turns out to be only temporary, as Craven looks up from his handiwork to suddenly see an arm hanging off the ropes from the outside of the ring. Knowing exactly what that must mean, Craven releases the crossface and allows a squirming Johnny Dangerous to fall flat to the canvas on his face. Getting to his feet, Craven walks to the side of the ring where Wildchild is desperately trying to get into the ring… CRACK! … And unfortunately for the Bahama Bomber, greets him with a kick in between the ropes that sends Wildchild right back to his back on the outside of the ring. Craven steps through the ropes and goes to the outside, realizing that in order to continue to isolate Johnny long enough to win this contest, he must first take his partners out of the equation. Grabbing Wildchild by the dreadlocks, Craven pulls him across the ringside area and jams his head into the ring post! CLANG! “CRAVEN SUCKS! CRAVEN SUCKS! CRAVEN SUCKS!” Rolling to the floor yet again, Wildchild holds two hands to his head as Craven wanders back to the other side of the ring. After all, if Wildchild is moving that other idiot can’t be too far behind, can he? And, surely enough, Craven catches an eye full of a still woozy Coy West, barely able to stand, and still on the ramp, but making his way determinedly towards the ring. CRACK! Rushing quickly up the ramp, Craven knocks the block off his adversary with a stunning clothesline that drives the back of Coy’s head into the metal ramp once more. Snatching Coy off the ramp once again, Craven jerks the Coyote up to his shoulders before jamming him back onto the ramp with a huge body slam. Craven smiles again, with that sick little smile, and leaves his foe lying on the floor as he heads back into the ring where Johnny Dangerous is still ripe for the picking. “See, that’s brilliant strategy by Craven, reports Bobby. “This is just what he has to do here; he needs to isolate one of those idiots and wear him down. And the only way to do that is to beat the tar out of the other two in the quickest and meanest way possible.” Rolling into the ring and popping back up to his feet, Craven boots the downed Barracuda across the top of the head yet again! Pulling his foe up to his feet, Craven bashes him across the face with a hard right hand that causes Johnny to rock back on his heels in a punch-drunk manner, looking to be virtually out on his feet! Smacking Johnny across the face again has the same result, actually knocking Johnny down to a knee. “I love this systematic destruction of Johnny Dangerous,” says Riley gleefully. “Craven’s an artist, I tell you!” Craven backs up and kisses his fist, then looks out to the crowd with a WINK before once again SLAMMING a hand right into Johnny’s noggin! WHAM! But this time as the blow comes flying in, Johnny manages to pull his head out of the way and snatches Craven around the head, immediately arching back, and ripping the Chimera off the mat, planting him with a big time exploder suplex! “What a tremendous suplex by Johnny Dangerous,” shouts Comet. “That couldn’t have come at a better time!” “Speak for yourself,” throws in Riley. “I happen to think that suplex happened at a terrible time!” Johnny rolls onto his knees as Craven continues to recover only a few feet away. Beating the Nightmare to his feet, Johnny grabs Craven by the back of the head and pulls him to his feet. BAP! BAP! BAP! BAP! Johnny hammers Craven in the face with a series of stiff right hands as his partner finally manages to make it back onto the ring apron, before grabbing him by the wrist and whipping him towards a neutral corner, but the Chimera reverses easily, sending Johnny back-first into the turnbuckle! Michael lowers his head and thunders into the to crush the Barracuda… CRASH! … But the Bahama Bomber darts across the apron and pulls his partner out of the way of the charging Gulf Coast Hurricane! Craven staggers backwards out of the corner, clutching shoulder as Wildchild grabs onto the top rope to balance himself before launching his body off the apron to alight on the top rope. “Wildchild coming out of nowhere to make the save,” says Comet. “And now, it looks like he’s gonna fly!” In a spectacular display of agility, the Caribbean Cruiser spins around while still on the top rope in order to face the crowd, and then springs backwards into the ring, twisting back around to face Craven and extending his limbs to crash into him with a cross-body block, but the Chimera catches him in midair, and turns back towards the center of the ring to plant Wildchild with a slam… CRACK! … But not before Johnny Dangerous springs into action, catching Craven flush in the mouth with a Johnny Kick that sends him tumbling backwards to the canvas, with his partner still atop him! Wildchild hooks the leg as Soapdish slides across the canvas to count the pinfall: ONE! TWO! THREE— KICKOUT! Not appearing to be too upset by failing to pin Craven, Wildchild pulls him to his feet, and along with Johnny, punch him repeatedly in the face to force him back towards the edge of the ring. “Craven should have put this match away while he had the chance,” says Comet. “Now, we’re about to see some vintage double teaming by the Tag Team Champions!” Wild and Dangerous each grab one of Craven’s wrists and whip him across the ring. Johnny drops down to one knee as the Nightmare rebounds and thrusts a shoulder into his midsection, doubling him over as Wildchild comes up from his blind side, leaping high into the air and extending his leg over Craven’s neck… WHAM! … Driving his face into the canvas with a Caribbean Cutter! The impact causes Craven to literally bounce off the mat, and he flops over onto his back as Johnny scrambles back to his feet and bounces off the ropes, flipping into the air and curling his hand into a fist… BANG! … Before he practically scrambles Craven’s face with the Armed and Dangerous fistdrop! “By Zeus,” shouts Comet, as Johnny floats over to cover. “Johnny dusts off the Armed and Dangerous to try and put Craven away! Will that be enough?” ONE! TWO! THREE! NO!! “He got the shoulder up,” exclaims Comet. “Thank god,” sighs Riley. Wild and Dangerous pull Craven up off the canvas and each grab an arm, whipping him across the ring… WHAM! … But the Chimera explodes back across the ring at alarming speed with both arms extended, knocking the tag team champions on their asses with a double clothesline and eliciting a heated chorus of boos from the fans! “I tell you what, Comet,” gushes Riley, “I can’t say enough about Craven! Here he is, fighting impossible odds like a true hero, going toe-to-toe with Tag Team Champions, and HANDLING them!” Craven makes his way towards Wildchild first, grabbing a handful of braids and jerking him fiercely off the mat. Standing behind him, Craven raises his arms and loops them underneath those of the Tropical Tumbler, locking his hands behind his face in a Full-Nelson. “Nightfall Slam coming up,” says Riley giddily. WHAM! The Nightmare snatches Wildchild off the canvas and releases the grip on his Full-Nelson as he steps forward, slamming the Caribbean’s unprotected face into the mat with his dreaded Nightfall Slam! Craven bends down to pick Wildchild up so that he can administer more punishment, when Johnny grabs him from behind, tucking his head underneath Craven’s arm and lifting him into the air… “MI Slam,” shouts Comet. … But Craven slips out of Johnny’s grip and lands on his feet behind him, spinning the Barracuda around and stunning him with a kick to the midsection before ducking down to shoot the leg and lifting Johnny onto his shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry position. He winds his body around before sending Johnny hurtling overhead as he uncoils… WHAM! … Grabbing the Barracuda by the head as Johnny’s body lines up with the Nightmare’s shoulder and dropping him to the canvas, shattering his body with a cataclysmic Gulf Coast Crunch! “Oh my goodness,” moans Comet. “The Gulf Coast Crunch! Nobody gets up from that!” “You’re damn right,” Riley babbles excitedly. “Craven’s about to win this thing, and really stick it to Stevens!” ONE!!! TWO!!!!!! THREE!!!!!!!!!! NO!!! Before the referee’s hand could slap the canvas for a third time, Wildchild and Johnny’s partner, the seemingly forgotten Coy West, reaches into the ring and grabs Craven by the heel, pulling him off of the Barracuda and out of the ring, to a HUGE roar of approval! “AAAAH,” shouts Riley in disbelief. “Where’d that hillbilly come from?” “As far as I’m concerned,” replies Comet, “he could have been sent from heaven, for he was surely the angel of mercy for Johnny Dangerous!” Before the Nightmare has a chance to come into a realization of his dilemma, the Coyote is all over him like Oprah on a ham sandwich, clubbing Craven with a barrage of fists! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! West THUNDERS his knuckles into Craven’s face repeatedly, knocking him flat on his back as the Bahama Bomber climbs into the ring to quickly check on his partner. “This is ludicrous,” cries Bobby. “Where the hell does West think he is? In a bar fight?” Bubbling with confidence after leaving his opponent crumpled in a heap, West strides over towards Craven, grabs him by his head, and jerks him to his knees! West keeps a firm hold of the Chimera’s head as he turns towards the fans, pumps his fist and lets out a tremendous “WHOOOOOOOO,” much to the enjoyment of the audience! “Coy West has something up his sleeve,” Comet forecasts. “I think he calls this one the Big Country Platter!” “For the love of God, I hope not,” replies Bobby. “Then again, it IS Coy West we’re talking about here; he could have a move named the ‘Express Lube and Oil Change for $12.99,’ for all I know.” “Don’t be absurd, Citizen Robert. He’s just a fun-loving Redneck with a dream.” However, unbeknownst to Mr. West, as he takes a moment to revel in the crowd’s merriment for the first time since he enter the arena, Craven starts to become aware of his predicament, and as Coy turns his attention back towards his opponent… DING! … The Gulf Coast Hurricane flings his fist into Coy West’s baby maker, instantly igniting a riotous chorus of boos as Coy drops to his knees riddled with agony! Comet cringes at the sight. “Craven proves once again that he will break ever single rule in the book to try and win this match!” “What do you expect, Comet,” retorts Bobby. “Poor Michael has the scales tipped against him; there IS no rule book in this situation!” Inside the ring, the Bahama Bomber finally recovers from the effects of the Nightfall Slam and, tipped off by the sudden surge of booing, looks out toward the ringside area. Quickly assessing the situation, he leaps to his feet and hauls ass across the ring, hits the ropes, building momentum as he bounces off the ropes and springing back across the ring... Unaware of what’s going on inside the ring, Craven cackles like a madman while reaching down to pull Coy West to his feet and send this trailer park trash back to the races. ... Meanwhile, Wildchild leaps into the air, expertly landing on the top rope, and then gives one good bounce and soars high into the air flipping forward... Still oblivious to the Human Hurricane, Craven lifts Coy onto his shoulders for another Gulf Coast Crunch. He turns his body, preparing for his devastating spinout… … When suddenly, a speeding aquamarine bullet comes ROCKETING towards him with his feet extended out... WHAM!! “And a Shooting Star Missile Dropkick from Wildchild nearly takes Michael’s head completely off his shoulders,” testifies Comet as the crowd launches into an enthusiastic cheer. “But I think he might have inadvertently put Coy West out of commission as well!” Craven is floored by the impact, but the Caribbean Cruiser quickly grabs the Nightmare by his head and lifts him up, rolling him into the ring, then slides in after him. Standing rather shakily, Michael isn’t prepared to defend himself against the Barracuda, who has finally recovered from the GCC, and is thirsting for revenge! Johnny steps forward and slings his fist into Craven’s temple with enough force to knock the head off a statue, spinning the Nightmare on his heels! Craven’s hand shoots up to his throbbing head out of instinct as he stumbles forward, only to face the Bahama Bomber who winds up and practically gashes the former Poke-Freak’s face with a vicious knife edged chop! SMACK! Craven staggers back a step, but then lunges forward, desperately trying to regain control of the match with a wild clothesline attempt that goes absolutely nowhere! Wildchild easily ducks down under the arm, and pops up behind Craven as the team of Wild and Dangerous BOTH jump into the air and sandwich the Nightmare in between a double dropkick - two feet to the chest and two to the back! WHAM!! Yet still the Nightmare stands, though stunned ENTIRELY out of his mind! He slowly begins to teeter back and forth when Johnny skates in from behind, ducks his head in between Craven’s legs and lifts him onto his shoulders. “Here it comes,” shouts Comet, watching along with the exuberant fans as Wildchild races to the corner turnbuckle and leaps to the top in a single bound! “Dangerous Drop, Dangerous Drop, the Tag Champs are about to send the Nightmare to hell!” Johnny takes a step forward grabbing Craven’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 the Nightmare’s face for a bulldog as Johnny tosses Craven off his shoulder and sits out… WHHAAAAMMM!!! The ring trembles violently as Johnny and Wildchild absolutely CRUSH Craven’s face against the canvas with their patented finisher! The crowds rejoice in seeing the much-detested Craven fall, and as expected... Johnny rolls over onto Craven, firmly pressing his palms into the Chimera’s chest! Soapdish drops down to make the count... ONEEEE!!! TWOOOOOOO!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! DING! DING! DING! Fans all over the ring leap from their seats with a magnificent cheer as the bell sounds, finally signaling the triumphant end of the match! “The winner of this match,” booms Funyon, standing to his feet, “The team of Coy West and WILD AAAAAND DANGEROUS!!!!!” “God damn it,” roars Bobby, clearly outraged by the outcome. “Craven has been cheated out of the favor promised to the winner of this match, and I’m sure Stevens is just tickled pink about it!” “To give some credit towards Michael Craven, he did manage to hold on for quite a while against overwhelming odds,” admits Comet. “But in the end, the spectacular double teams of Wild and Dangerous were able to dispatch of the villain! Besides, Craven doesn‘t need any favors after the way he’s been acting, now Johnny Dangerous on the other hand... ” Coy finally comes to and slides back into the ring just in time for a victory lap as Soapdish grabs an arm of Johnny and Wildchild and raise it high into the air! Wild and Dangerous close in on Coy, grabbing an arm each, then all three men raise their arms out to the cheering masses! “Wild and Dangerous extending their gratitude towards Coy West is an uncanny show of sportsmanship,” says Comet happily, “but what will the story be when we get to Clusterfudge, where three out of these four men in the ring will ALL try to win a spot on the Main Event of From The Fire!” A last shot is shown of Wildchild, Johnny and Coy celebrating on the turnbuckles… As we: FADE OUT Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Suicide King Report post Posted January 27, 2004 The SOLD-OUT Toledo Sports Arena is jam-packed to the rafters with rabid fans, many of them wearing blue-and-white I Am Superior shirts to show their support for Tom Flesher! Some are holding up signs such as “I Have A Superiority Complex,” “Taamo = da Baamo,” and “MVS Doesn’t Have A Leg To Stand On.” A few signs supporting MVS also dot the crowd; specifically, several people hold up signs saying “That’s What HE Said!” The arena is abuzz as Flesher and Van Siclen warm up backstage, ready to settle a score that’s been on the back burner for close to two years. “Tonight,” says Comet, “we’re going to see Tom Flesher and Mike Van Siclen face off in the ring. It’s been nearly two years since the Superior Citizen broke the Spectacle’s leg with the Superior Stretch, causing children and adults alike to reaffirm their hatred for him. In the time since then, we’ve seen numerous changes of orientation by Flesher and Van Siclen vis a vis the fans and each other, and so it becomes a question of whether the crowd will side with their perennial favorite, Mike Van Siclen, or the king of charisma, Tom Flesher.” “Of course they’re going to side with Mike Van Siclen,” says Bobby Riley. “If there’s one thing to be said about the SWF fans, it’s that they know talent when they see it. Oh, sure… some of them might be wowed by a few pretty suplexes or a nicely rounded behind, but all in all these fans know better. They aren’t going to be fooled by rugged, Irish good looks! Hell no! They’ve been bitten too many times! Tonight, Mike Van Siclen gets their support!” Comet raises an eyebrow. “Uh, Robert?” “What?” snaps Riley. “Nothing, nothing.” Comet clears his throat. “As it stands, Tom Flesher has expressed a desire to simply move beyond this old score that has yet to be settled, while Citizen Siclen has been focusing on taking Flesher out.” “And he will!” shouts Riley. “He’s going to go the distance and beat Flesher! Convincingly! And he’s on his way to a win at Cluster-” “I wouldn’t be so sure,” says Comet. “In any event, let’s go to Funyon.” “Ladies and gentlemen,” says everyone’s favorite heavily-salted snack treat, “the following grudge match is scheduled for one fall!” He pauses as the crowd pops. “Making his way to the ring…” The melodical 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 BOOOOOOOM! Three blasts of white pyro go off! Mike Van Siclen emerges through the third one, not wearing his usual grin as the music continues to blast. Van Siclen walks down to the ring, coldly ignoring the fans reaching out to slap his hands. His eyes are focused on the ring, and he keeps his pace as Funyon announces him. “The first competitor, hailing from Harrison, Illinois, and weighing in at 231 pounds… he is ‘the Spectacle,’ MIKE… VAN… SICLEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” MVS slides into the ring, and as the crowd boos, he climbs the nearest turnbuckle. He throws his arms into the air, but instead of getting the pop he wants, he just hears more booing. Frustrated by the lack of fan empathy, he hops off the turnbuckle and paces around the ring. “Look at the determination on the face of Mike Van Siclen,” says Bobby Riley. “He’s come out here with one thing and one thing only on his mind. He wants to beat Tom Flesher clean in the middle of the ring!” “Of course,” Comet points out, “Flesher isn’t completely fresh, thanks to his grueling victory over Andrew Blackwell in last week’s Zero Gravity match.” “Point noted,” says Riley. “Boy, was that one a scorcher! I never knew Sacred could ride a unicycle, or that you could do a shooting star press off one.” Funyon announces, “And his opponent…” The lights go down and the SmarkTron begins glowing white. As the opening guitars of the Philosopher Kings’ “I Am The Man” vibrate through the arena, the fans applaud, anticipating the entrance of the Superior One. After a few seconds… BOOM! An explosion of blue pyro and smoke lights up the arena as the song starts to rock out over the sound system! Tom Flesher emerges from the cloud of smoke, striding confidently to the ring as videos of his signature moves alternate in half-second clips with the words “SUPERIOR ONE,” “AWARD-WINNING,” “MAIN ATTRACTION” and “THE MAN.” Flesher pauses on the ramp, crossing his arms over his chest as the fans applaud him. They continue cheering for him as he falls out of his pose and walks to the ring. “And the Superior Citizen matches Mike Van Siclen’s intensity,” says Comet, “but with a shade more relaxation. Flesher comes to the ring cool, able to concentrate on his opponent.” Flesher climbs the stairs to enter the ring and, making sure to wipe his feet off on the apron, steps into the ring. As the music fades away, Flesher positions himself in the center of the ring. Funyon makes his announcement. “Hailing from Buffalo, New York, and weighing in at 213 pounds… one of the most decorated men ever to step into an SWF ring, the award-winning Superior One, TOM FLESHER!!!!!” Flesher acknowledges the cheering crowd with a smirk and a nod, then steps back into the corner. He strips off his warm-up suit. As Van Siclen jumps a bit from foot to foot to keep his blood flowing, Flesher quickly stretches his shoulders out and then cracks his neck. Referee John Trudel motions for the contestants to come to the center, and when they comply, he calls for the bell. DING DING DING!!!! Off the bell, Flesher and Van Siclen lock up in a collar-elbow tie. Flesher shoves Mike backwards, showing off his significant power advantage despite giving up six inches in height. Van Siclen stops backpedaling almost immediately, coming back with a stiff right hand that catches Flesher flush in the face! Tom grits his teeth and answers back with a solid palm strike, stunning Van Siclen! Before MVS has a chance to react, Flesher lowers his level and shoots a blast double-leg takedown, sending his opponent back almost to the ropes! Mike tries to regain his balance, but Flesher drops down again. This time, with Mike already off balance, Flesher slams into him with another blast double! Mike falls to the mat, and the impact of the spear-like tackle sends him into the turnbuckles! Flesher stands up and patiently waits for Van Siclen to get to his feet. “Tom Flesher takes control early on,” says Cyclone Comet. “He shows his power advantage by beating Mike Van Siclen from pillar to post in the first few minutes.” “It’s a little early to be saying things like that, don’t you think?” “I think it’s quite obvious that I don’t,” says Comet. “Clearly.” MVS gets up, and Flesher keeps the pressure on by grabbing his arm. He falls to the side, pulling Mike to the mat with an armdrag takeover! The Spectacle slams into the mat, and Flesher fluidly segues into a reverse chinlock. He sits back, pressing his knee into Van Siclen’s back, and playfully golf-claps as he keeps the hold tight. The crowd returns the gesture, applauding Flesher’s skill. After the applause dies down, Flesher adjusts his position, moving his free arm across MVS’s face. He grinds the bone of his forearm across Mike’s nose, smirking as he does, and Van Siclen simply tries ineffectually to escape. “Flesher’s being a real bastard there,” says Bobby Riley. “He’s not working toward a pin or a submission. He’s just grinding the bone against Mike Van Siclen’s nose. Now this sort of thing just shouldn’t be allowed!” Flesher continues grinding his forearm on MVS’s face. As Van Siclen concentrates on trying to peel the arm off, Flesher snakes a leg around his waist. He stands up, hooking his foot against Mike’s thigh. The fans begin to cheer, seeing Flesher trying to switch off into the deadly Held Without Bail stretch plum and send Van Siclen to the showers early! Van Siclen catches on too, though, and grabs Flesher’s arm with both hands. He rolls to the side, scooting out of the leg hook and coming out in front of Flesher. Before Flesher has a chance to react, Van Siclen nails him in the stomach with a spear! Tom staggers back and MVS takes advantage of a quick opportunity for a breather. Flesher catches his breath first and grabs Van Siclen’s head, looking for a front headlock. Mike pops up, though, and nails Flesher in the chin with an uppercut! With the former World Champion staggered, Mike grabs his wrist and sends him across the ring with an Irish whip! Flesher bounces off the ropes, and MVS quickly pivots on one heel to nail him in the face with a leg lariat! Flesher’s head snaps to the side as he eats the kick, and he collapses to the mat! Mike drops onto him, covering him for ONE!! but no more, as Flesher quickly kicks out. Still shaken, he rolls to the outside. “Mike Van Siclen gets the first cover of the match,” says Riley. “He nails Flesher with a completely unexpected heel kick, and the so-called Superior One ends up on his back. Now how do you expect him to withstand that kind of assault when he can’t even take a kick when he’s fresh?” “Certainly, Van Siclen’s speed is going to present a problem, but one to which Flesher must be accustomed before he faces off with Wildchild. He must anticipate assaults from air and ground and be ready to fend them off.” Flesher takes a few steps on the outside, shaking off the impact. He doesn’t, however, see Mike Van Siclen sprinting across the ring, but he looks up just in time to see the Spectacle take to the air with a plancha! Flesher’s jaw drops, and he looks like he’s about to shit himself as the 231-pound MVS falls toward him! He steels himself and reaches out, prompting a cheer from the crowd as he catches Van Siclen! The crowd continues applauding as Flesher quickly adjusts his grip and then falls forward, flattening MVS with a powerslam! “And Mike Van Siclen learns once more why the plancha is called a ‘high-risk’ maneuver,” says Comet. “High risk, high return,” replies Bobby. “You can’t win without taking some risks.” “I don’t know that Tom Flesher would agree with that,” Comet says. “He’s one of the hardest-hitting athletes in the SWF, and yet one of the ones who takes the fewest lumps of his own.” Flesher pulls MVS off the floor matting and rolls him back into the ring. He follows, then drags him to the center of the ring and makes the cover. ONE!!!! and that’s it, as Mike kicks out. Flesher shrugs, seemingly knowing he wouldn’t get the fall, and grabs Mike’s left foot. “Only one for Flesher,” says Bobby. “So far, Mike Van Siclen’s been hanging right in there, even getting the first cover. Doesn’t seem like a diamond versus a turd to me.” Tom stands up, holding Mike’s left leg, and plants his Doc Marten into the hamstring. As MVS tries to recoil from the pain, Flesher extends the leg and drops an elbow into the side of the knee joint. He pops back up to his feet and quickly drops back down, slamming the elbow into the knee again. He stands up and repeats it. Mike cries out in pain, and Flesher gets back to his feet, making sure to take the right leg as well. He drops the left leg and applies a spinning toehold to the right leg! “Will we see the figure-four leglock already?” says Comet, breathless in anticipation of the quick submission finish. MVS answers the question by planting his left leg into Flesher’s gluteus and pushing him away, making sure to avoid the leglock. As Flesher hits the ropes, Mike executes a kip-up! Flesher turns around and, this time, takes a spinning wheel kick to the face! He falls to the mat, not ready for the exuberant Van Siclen’s constant pressure. MVS pulls him off the mat, bending him over backwards. He rolls to the side, executing a picture-perfect Russian Roulette! Flesher hits the mat headfirst, and MVS rolls on top of him for ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!! NO!! Flesher kicks out comfortably and rolls to his stomach. “Here we see one of Mike Van Siclen’s best qualities,” shills Riley. “He’s tenacious. He never says die. He gets right up off the mat and hits the Russian Roulette, a move that would kill any mortal man without a steroid-enhanced 18-inch neck.” “How dare you accuse Tom Flesher of taking steroids!” “Oh, come on. The size of that neck, the back acne, the permanent case of PMS, the shriveled package… you tell me he’s not on roids. Go ahead, keep a straight face.” MVS stays on top of Flesher. He quickly reaches around his neck and grabs his hands, crossing his arms across his throat. Mike starts to sit back, trying to lock on the Cardinal Sin Clutch! Flesher, knowing the deadly submission is coming, immediately makes a front bridge. He forces his hips into the air, keeping Mike from getting the low seated position he needs to tighten the hold. MVS fights to get Flesher onto the mat in order to end the match with the flash submission, but Tom keeps his front bridge and shakes Mike off onto the mat! He quickly backs out, leaving MVS bridged awkwardly on his forehead, hands and feet. Flesher stands up, and Mike quickly follows, only to be grabbed around the hips in a waistlock! The Spectacle panics, knowing what happens next, and tries to hug the mat… but it’s no match for the lifting power of the Superior One, who hoists him into the air and arches back, throwing him effortlessly to the mat with a released German suplex! MVS hits the mat hard, and Flesher calmly gets back to his feet. As VanS iclen lays face-down on the mat, Flesher rests, his hands on his hips, and plans out his next move. “Flesher executes that absolutely deadly German suplex,” says Comet, “and could conceivably end the match here.” “Doubt it,” says Riley. Instead of going for a pin, though, Flesher takes Van Siclen’s left leg. He lifts it off the mat and walks to the center, pulling MVS with him. He turns around and sits back, locking on a half-crab! He hooks Mike’s leg both above and below the knee, using both arms to increase the pressure on the left knee. MVS grimaces in pain, and Flesher simply leans back and relaxes. “Mike Van Siclen is in trouble,” says Cyclone Comet. “Tom Flesher has returned to the left leg. Even though it’s obviously healed, Tom knows there to be a psychological advantage in attacking the formerly-injured limb, and of course, he wants to win by submission.” “What a flaming egotist,” says Riley. “I can’t believe the balls he’s showing, always trying to get his opponent to tap instead of getting the perfectly honorable pin. Not that there’s anything honorable about that turncoat.” “Just a minute ago you were complaining about the Superior Citizen’s withered testicles, and now you accuse them of being swollen. Robert, I daresay you’re inconsistent.” “… why the hell did King have to fire Mark?” moans Riley. Mike Van Siclen, knowing that he has to escape the hold or give up, starts pulling himself across the mat. Flesher drags his feet, but MVS continues moving toward the side of the ring. He reaches out, but misses the ropes by a few inches. Flesher takes the opportunity to step back toward the center twice, pulling Mike a few more feet away. MVS grimaces in pain, but resumes pulling toward the ropes. This time, he reaches out… and grabs the bottom rope! The fans boo, but quickly begin to cheer as Flesher yanks him off the cables and pulls him back to the center of the ring! “And Tom Flesher shows that trademark ring intelligence, keeping Mike Van Siclen out of position to easily achieve a rope break,” Comet notes. “There’s simply no way that Mike can withstand this kind of pressure.” Van Siclen, though, doesn’t seem to see things the way Comet does. He starts swimming across the canvas again, using all the strength of his upper body to pull his own weight as well as Flesher’s to the sidelines. He grits his teeth, trying to ignore the pain of the half-crab hold, and continues pulling himself to the ropes. Flesher seems to realize that the rope break is inevitable and simply drags his feet, increasing the amount of resistance faced by the Spectacle. MVS simply continues until he reaches out and brushes the bottom cable with his fingertips. Screaming out loud, he lunges and wraps both hands around the strand, gripping tightly. Flesher shrugs and tries to pull him away, but Mike’s grip is too strong. John Trudel begins to administer the five-count, but Flesher dutifully breaks immediately. “Right there you see Flesher’s lackadaisical attitude,” says Riley. “He’s half the man he used to be, when he would have cranked that hold for all it was worth and used the whole five seconds.” “He’s simply trying to move the match along,” Comet says, exasperated. “Fat lot of good it does, with Mike still holding the ropes.” Flesher crouches down, ready to attack as soon as Mike gets to his feet. Slowly, MVS stands up, holding the ropes as he shakes out the assaulted leg. He turns around and immediately tastes the business end of a Flesher shotei! Stunned, he can’t defend himself as Flesher locks on a front facelock. He ducks his head under MVS’s arm and lifts him up, stalling for a few seconds before leaning forward and throwing Mike stomach-first across the top rope! He leaves Mike to hang there for a few seconds before locking on the front facelock again. He lifts MVS back into the air and, stalling once again, takes a few steps toward the corner. He stalls… Stalls…. And stalls for a few more seconds before…. BAM!!!! … dropping to the mat and slamming Mike down with a deadly brainbuster! MVS lays on his back, feet pointing at the cornerpost, and Flesher rolls out of the ring. He grabs the left leg and pulls MVS toward the post, stopping when he has Mike’s legs wishboned around the steel support. He pulls the left leg out, and… BANG!!!! … slams the knee into the steel! The fans applaud as Mike sits up, trying to pull the leg back. Flesher pulls it out again, though, and… BANG!!!! … hits it against the steel once again! MVS cries out in pain, but Flesher continues the assault, slamming Mike’s leg into the cornerpost over and over and over, even as John Trudel’s count gets higher and higher. FIVE! BANG!!!! BANG!!!! SIX! BANG!!!! BANG!!!! BANG!!!! BANG!!!! SEVEN! BANG!!!! BANG!!!! BANG!!!! EIGHT! BANG!!!! BANG!!!! BANG!!!! BANG!!!! NINE! Finally, Flesher slides back into the ring, avoiding a countout loss by the narrowest of margins. Mike Van Siclen, however, looks to be in bad shape. He curls up in the corner, holding his knee tight against his chest and trying to protect it. Trudel admonishes Tom Flesher for the illegal attack, waving his finger and shouting “Vous ne pouvez pas faire cette attaque! Cet assaut, il n’est jamais permis!” Flesher raises an eyebrow. “What the hell are you talking about?” Trudel sighs. “Zut alors, les lutteurs americains, ils sont stupid.” “It seems that our resident Québecois official, John Trudel, is having a hard time communicating with Tom Flesher,” chuckles Comet. “He’s on loan from one of the smaller promotions in Québec.” “Is he the one we traded SWF road agent Trey Hunter for?” “Why, yes he is. Brick Crawford, we hope you’re enjoying your fresh meat.” Flesher moves the French-Canadian official aside, possibly frustrated that he hasn’t started handing out pornography for no apparent reason, and drops down onto MVS. He hooks the tender left leg, and Trudel counts ONE!!!! TWO!!!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!! Van Siclen kicks out! Flesher shakes his head, looking frustrated, and stands up. “Tom waited too long to go for that pin,” says Riley. “He stood there arguing with the referee and missed his window of opportunity. You’d think after all the experience he pretends to have, he’d know to make a simple pin cover.” Flesher grabs Van Siclen by the arm and yanks him to his feet. Mike leans to one side, having trouble putting weight on the left knee. Flesher uses the arm to start an Irish whip, but MVS tumbles to the mat when he tries to run on the left leg! Frustrated, Flesher pulls Van Siclen up off the mat and tries again. He sends MVS to the ropes, and this time the Spectacle stays on his feet. He bounces off the ropes, and Flesher throws his right hand up to catch him with a stepping palm blow. Van Siclen sees the telegraphed move, though, and instead snags Flesher’s wrist! He floats off the mat, crossing Flesher’s arms around his neck, and swings around to execute the Red Light! “STOP!!!!!!!” shout the fans. Pause. Pause. Pause. Pause. Pause. “CONTINUE!!!!!!” screams Van Siclen, and the fans pop in spite of their position to this point. Van Siclen rolls onto Flesher and covers him for ONE!!!! TWO!!!!! KICKOUT!!!!!! Flesher rolls over, still slightly stunned. He starts to stand up, and Mike Van Siclen immediately grabs him from behind in hopes of hitting a German suplex to keep him down for the count. Flesher, though, sandbags. He hugs the mat, trying to force MVS out of position. Sure enough, MVS leans over, trying to match Flesher’s lifting prowess and hoist him into the air. Flesher springs his trap, hitting a lightning-fast switch and ending up behind Van Siclen, locking on an airtight waistlock! Immediately, Mike makes a mad dash for the ropes. Flesher keeps his grip, holding him around the waist and trying to hit the lethal released German to pick up the pin. Van Siclen grabs the ropes, holding on for dear life as Flesher tries to arch backwards. Finally, Tom relaxes, realizing he’ll have to be more patient. As soon as he feels the pressure release, Mike spins around, executing a picture-perfect switch of his own into a standing gokuraku! Flesher panics and tries to run for the ropes, but can’t free his hands! Mike Van Siclen steps back and quickly drops to one knee, slamming Flesher’s head into the other knee on the way down! “CROSSFACE BLACK!” shouts Bobby Riley as Mike lays Flesher out on the mat. “This one could be over!” he shills at the top of his lungs. “Mike Van Siclen may have this won!” Van Siclen covers Flesher, hooking the leg and staring at John Trudel. The official drops to the mat and counts ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!! THREE!!!!- NO!!!!!!!! Flesher gets his shoulder up with the referee’s hand just a hair’s breadth away from the mat! “Tom Flesher kicks out with only a heartbeat to spare,” says Cyclone Comet, exhilarated. “Mike Van Siclen is certainly putting up more of a fight than Tom Flesher expected!” “But not more than I expected,” Riley says. “I don’t want to pat myself on the back, but I’ve known this was going to happen ever since the match was booked. But, again, I don’t want to toot my own horn.” Comet shakes his head sadly. “Oh, Robert…” “What?” “It’s almost as if you don’t notice when you feed me straight lines.” Flesher rolls onto his stomach instinctively. Still stunned by the Crossface Black, he tries to regain his senses. Mike, meanwhile, does his best to capitalize. He stands up and moves toward Flesher, but steps back for a moment. He leans on the top rope and bends his leg. He bends the left knee joint two or three times and then, confident, moves away from the ropes. “Mike Van Siclen may be on his feet now,” says Cyclone Comet, “but the all-important psychological advantage is as evident as ever.” He doesn’t show it, however, as he walks confidently over and grabs Flesher by the head. He pulls Tom into a tight front facelock, looking for the Code Red. Flesher, however, pulls away, breaking the facelock. Van Siclen follows him back, trying to retighten the hold. Flesher once again breaks the front facelock, but Van Siclen stuns him with a kneelift to the face! He gets the front facelock back in, but has to pause to shake out the knee. Flesher takes the precious second wasted by MVS and uses it to hook the left leg. He reaches up and hooks Van Siclen’s head. Mike realizes he’s caught in a cradle and immediately begins trying to wrestle his way out of it, but Flesher locks his hands and tightens the grip. They handfight, each man trying to jockey for position, until Flesher finally gets MVS off the mat! He arches his back and lands in a strong bridge position, holding Mike Van Siclen by his weak leg! John Trudel counts ONE!!!! TWO!!!!!! MVS kicks hard, trying to use the weakened knee to break the cradle! THREE!!!!!! – NO!!!!!!!!!! “OH MY GOD!” shouts the overly-excited Comet. “Mike Van Siclen kicks out of the fisherman’s suplex at the last possible moment! Holy Moses, this match is as exciting as the parting of the Red Sea!” “I tried that once,” says Bobby Riley. “She said-” “Please don’t go there,” sighs Comet. Mike Van Siclen rolls to the side, holding his knee. Flesher rolls away and kneels, his chest heaving as he tries to formulate his next move. His eyes are focused; he knows the win is within reach. “Tom Flesher smells blood,” says Cyclone Comet. “Speaking of smelling blood, you mentioned parting the Red-” “Good lord,” murmurs Comet. Flesher stands up, circling around the weakened Van Siclen like a vulture circling its prey. MVS starts to get to his feet, and immediately Flesher grabs him around the waist. This time, though, he ducks his head down and braces it under Mike’s armpit. He stands up, lifting his opponent off the mat and onto his feet. He pauses for a moment to allow Van Siclen to figure out exactly where he is and what Flesher is about to do, and then lifts him up for a backdrop driver! He stalls for a few seconds as Van Siclen tries to shift his weight and avoid being dropped on his head. “The Superior Citizen is looking to finish this match off with his trademark backdrop driver,” says Cyclone Comet, “and I don’t see Mike Van Siclen getting up after being spiked onto his pate.” Flesher holds Van Siclen, and the Spectacle leans forward, desperately trying to get his feet back on the mat. Flesher jerks him up a few more inches, and then hooks his left ankle! He slams MVS down, allowing him to get his right foot down but hammering his left leg with a shinbuster! Van Siclen stumbles forward, staggers a few feet and collapses! The fans burst into cheers! “Tom Flesher faked Mike Van Siclen out! The Superior One outthinks the Spectacle,” says Comet, “and now he’s moving in for the finish!” Mike Van Siclen lays on the mat, holding his weakened knee. Tom Flesher moves in, ready to make the kill. He grabs Van Siclen by the right leg. He turns to the side, starting the spinning toehold. He continues the rotation, ready to finish Mike off with the figure-four leglock, but MVS grabs his head! He keeps the leg hooked and rolls to the side, locking Flesher in a tight small package! Tom kicks, trying to break the cradle as John Trudel counts ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!! THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DING DING DING!!!! Flesher kicks one last time, finally breaking the cradle a second too late! Mike Van Siclen leaps into the air, and Flesher just kneels, jaw on the floor, unable to comprehend what just happened. “VAN SICLEN WINS! VAN SICLEN WINS!” screams Bobby Riley. “MIKE VAN SICLEN PINS TOM FLESHER, ONE, TWO, THREE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RING!!!!!!” Mike Van Siclen jumps up and down, too excited to worry about his sore left leg. Flesher rolls out of the ring, the look on his face showing that he thinks the whole thing is ludicrous. “Your winner,” says Funyon, “MIKE… VAN… SICLEN!!!!!” Flesher shakes his head, frustrated, and walks toward the back with his hands on his hips. Mike, meanwhile, stays in the ring, celebrating. “Mike Van Siclen defeats Tom Flesher,” says Comet… “CLEAN! ONE TWO THREE IN THE MIDDLE!” shrieks Riley. “TAKE THAT, FLESHER! TAKE IT AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!” “And without a doubt,” says Comet, “this can only be momentum for Van Siclen going into Clusterfuck. As for Flesher, he may end up suffering as he faces off against Wildchild. Only time will tell.” Van Siclen’s celebration is the last thing we see before we fade. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Suicide King Report post Posted January 27, 2004 The camera fades in to the interior of Commissioner Mark Stevens' refurbished office. Mark himself sits at his desk with his hands folded in front of him. From his demeanor it is quite clear that the Heavy Hitter is all business tonight. "I will make this brief, as I hate to take time away from another action-packed night of SWF wrestling right here in Toledo! The Clusterfuck is upon us, and once again the sole survivor of the battle royale will face the SWF Heavyweight Champion at From the Fire. 20 hungry and experienced individuals will compete for a chance to climb the mountain all the way to the top. However there is one little fact that many of you at home and in the locker room are unaware of. To remedy that, please allow me to give you a little history lesson..." "The year is 2001. The fed is the IGNWF, and the roster is packed with legends and those who would go on to become legends. In the first ever Clusterfuck we see faces like Axis, Cyclone Comet, Bobby Riley, Stubby McWeed, Sacred, Mercury,GOAT, Grimedogg, Divefire, Chris Wilson, Mr. Galatea... the list goes on and on. But from this list of amazing talent one man and one man alone rose up to win this inaugural event, and his name was Pimp Daddy Sarp. PDS entered at #18, defeated 19 other men, and won the chance to face the champion, which he did. Sarp defeated Rane, the most dominant big man the fed had yet seen, and cemented his place in our history books." "The year is 2002. The fed is still the IGNWF, and the roster is almost completely unrecognizable from what it was before. Only one thing remains and that is the level of excellence all the Clusterfuck participants demanded from themselves and from each other. The second Clusterfuck includes people who would go on to inspire the next generation of wrestlers; people like Jay Dawg, Fallout, X, Perfect Bo, Edwin MacPhisto, El Luchadore Magnifico, Neilsen of the Jungle, and Thoth. However one man alone rose above this distinguished cast, entering at #9 and winning it all. That man?" Mark grins. "You're looking at him. And I rode that momentum all the way to the next PPV, where I defeated the single most despicable man this fed has ever produced, the Suicide King, for my second title reign. I like to think that in some small way the act of winning the Clusterfuck has allowed my legacy to become more than I ever thought it would." "The year is 2003. The fed has become the SWF, and while some familiar faces remain there are even more new ones that would rise to carry the torch. God help us all but the Suicide King had become commissioner, and in perhaps the only inspired act of his reign this year's winner of the Clusterfuck would not only get his title shot, but he would get to name the stipulation. Many of the participants in this match would go on to greatness in their own right, as people like Silent, Ejiro Fasaki, Judge Mental, Michael Craven, Frost, Mak Francis, and Danny Williams carved their names into wrestling history. However, one man entered at #15 and outlasted the entire federation that night, and that man's name was Taylor Nicholas Thompson. TNT's surprise win gave him the momentum needed to unseat the seemingly unbeatable El Luchadore Magnifico, the most talented cruiserweight our federation has ever seen, and TNT became our World Heavyweight Champion." "The history lesson is over. There are two main points I would like everyone to take away from this. First and foremost, as with last year's Clusterfuck the winner of this year's event will be able to name the stipulation of the title match at From the Fire. Not only will you get your title shot on a platter kids, but you'll get to name the rules. The advantage is self-apparent." "Second and perhaps more importantly, I would just like to point out a little trend you may or may not have noticed. Every year one person has won the Clusterfuck, and every single year without fail they have gone on to win the championship at the next PPV. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. Clusterfuck is not just your opportunity to shine, gentlemen. It is your opportunity to get everything you have EVER wanted. The recognition of your peers and the fans. The main event slot and paycheck. The knowledge that at this point in time, you are the VERY best our sport has produced." "Your time is now, if you have the will to take it. Thank you, and good night." And fade. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Suicide King Report post Posted January 27, 2004 The final TV commercial comes to an end and SWF programming returns inside the Toledo Sports Arena, just days away from the Clusterf*ck on February 1st, a pay-per-view that is certain to explode! “LET FREEDOM RING WITH A SHOTGUN BLAST!” A pyro fires off into the air and the crowd are already on their feet and cheering by the time the red strobe lights kick in and the two members of the Unholy Trinity step through the curtain. Cyclone Comet: “Whoa! We’re back on SWF Smarkdown, as we are wasting no time in getting to the main event of tonight’s show!” Bobby Riley: “That’s right, Comet, and it is a doozy tonight. The Unholy Trinity and the recently formed group the Unnamed have been feuding these past few weeks, with neither group seeming to have a very clear-cut advantage!” Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, coming down to the ring at this time, weighing in at a total combined weight of six hundred and three pounds and representing the UNHOLY TRINITY…The SWF Hardcore Champion Terrence Bailey, and YOUR S-W-F HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD DAN-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMS!” The crowd continues to cheer the Trinity as “Davidian” by Machinehead plays overhead, and Terrence and Danny approach the ring, both wearing their respective belts. Comet: “If there’s one clear cut advantage, Bobbo, it’s that when it comes to the belts in the SWF, the Trinity has two, and the Unnamed only has one!” Riley: “That all could change at the pay-per-view in a mere six days! Danny and Va’aiga are facing off for the World Title, and it’s only a matter of time before John Duran gets his shot at Janus’ belt!” The two Trinity members enter the ring—Williams stepping up to the apron and through the ropes, and Janus rolling under the bottom rope—and move to the far corner, talking strategy as their enemies wait to make their entrance. The faces of John Duran, Va’aiga, Charlie Matthews and James Matheson fill the SmarkTron as cyan strobe lights illuminate a murky deep blue cloud, two figures standing in silhouette against the cloud. “WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAH!” BOOM! “WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAH!” BOOM! The second white burst of pyro is slightly further up than the first. “BULLET THE BLUE SKY! BULLET THE BLUE SKY!” John Duran and Va’aiga emerge from the cloud and walk down to the ring, accompanied by boos as Sepultura’s “Bullet The Blue Sky” continues. Funyon: “And their opponents, weighing in at a combined five hundred and seventy-seven pounds, and representing THE UNNAMED…The Notorious JOHN DURAN AND THE MAORI BADASS VA’AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-GA!” The boos never let up as the Toledo crowd lets John and Va’aiga have it, and fans in the front sections surrounding the entrance ramp make careful notice to shove their middle fingers in John Duran’s face. Duran just brushes it off, keeping a serious face and remaining focused on the Trinity as he gives the offending fans a finger back. Comet: “Bobbo, we’ve got well over a half-ton of weight facing each other tonight in the main event! Can you imagine what could happen if Eddy Long loses control of the action tonight!” Riley: “I’m not sure, but if there is a just and loving God, the Unnamed will run all over the Trinity here.” Duran and Va’aiga both enter the ring and head to the nearest corner to the SmarkTron. Duran looks tempted to run over and attack Janus from behind, much like he did on Lockdown, but he holds back as he has a small chat with Va’aiga, and then they both seem to agree on who goes first. Danny is already waiting in the ring with Terrence on the apron as Va’aiga steps through the ropes and waits in the Unnamed corner. Eddy Long steps into the center of the ring, making sure everything is order before turning to the timekeeper and calling for the bell! DING DING DING Both Duran and Danny step towards the center of the ring. As Danny reaches that point, he raises his arms in preparation for a lockup, and Duran follows suit, but hesistates for a moment and decides against it, walking around Danny and shooting a glare at Terrence in the corner as he moves around the ring. Danny turns around to meet him, locking up with him as the much taller Duran uses his leverage and overpowers Williams. John pushes him towards the corner, but Danny breaks the lockup and pushes Duran out of the corner. Duran rolls backwards and onto his feet, but Williams comes out of the corner and hits Duran with a hard elbow smash to the jaw of Duran as the Notorious One falls, holding his jaw as the crowd cheers. Comet: “Citizen Duran has a rather large height advantage, but those big elbows will take any man down.” Riley: “I’m surprised that a midget like Danny could even reach Duran!” Danny bends down and brings Duran up by his hair, as Eddy Long warns Williams to watch the pulling of the hair. Danny hits another elbow to the jaw, and a third as he guides Duran into the ropes, whipping him to the other side of the ring and walking towards the center of the ring. Duran rebounds off the ropes and comes back to Danny, as Danny lifts his body into the air and extends his legs, catching Duran in the chest with a dropkick! Comet: “A textbook dropkick there from Citizen Williams, as I wonder if Citizen Duran is still feeling those elbow smashes to the jaw!” Riley: “His jaw has been known as a weak point in the past, Comet.” The fans cheer as Danny gets back to his feet, walking over to Duran’s face and dropping a knee on the jaw, giving the Notorious One a little bit more pain as he drops another knee, the fans groaning as they watch the bones of Danny’s knee smash into the face of Duran, John writhing in pain and trying to protect his jaw. Finally, Danny moves down and brings Duran back up again, taking Duran towards the Trinity corner and tagging in Terrence Bailey as the fans cheer. Riley: “Danny going with the quick tag here, which is a curious maneuver.” Comet: “I’m sure they know that the Unnamed will try and do everything they can to cut off the Trinity from their corner, so they just have to keep control and stay fresh.” Riley: “Anyway, we’ll now have a preview of the Hardcore Title match that’s just around the corner, and Terrence can get some revenge for that sneak attack on Lockdown!” Bailey enters the ring and nails Duran with a right hand, staggering John as he remains on his feet. Terrence connects with another one, but Duran doesn’t go down. Finally, Terrence winds up and nails the Unnamed member with a HARD right hand, the crowd cheering as Duran once again holds his jaw, in immense pain after the Knuckle Bomb. Comet: “I don’t think the fans at home quite appreciate just how ferocious that right hand can be!” With Duran down on the mat, Janus goes for a quick cover, and Eddy Long drops to the mat to count the pinfall. ONE! KICKOUT! The quick cover only gets a one count as Duran is able to kick out and get his left shoulder up under the awesome weight of Terrence. Duran tries to roll over onto his face and protect it, but Bailey doesn’t give any rest to the wicked and brings the Notorious One to his feet. Now with the height advantage belonging to the Trinity, John takes a nasty headbutt from Bailey, knocking him straight down to the mat though Duran is able to stumble to his feet with a minor headache. Riley: “Duran is really taking a beating from the Trinity, he needs to get a tag out to Va’aiga!” Before Duran can reach the ropes, Terrence catches him in a front facelock and brings him back towards the center of the ring before draping an arm over his shoulder and lifting John into the air with ease. Bailey then falls back, as Duran’s back impacts against the mat from the vertical suplex! Comet: “Citizen Bailey is just able to handle Duran so gracefully, as if he’s just a toy!” Riley: “This toy has bite, Comet, he’s just taking his time to show it.” Duran sits up and holds his back for a moment before laying back down on the mat, as Bailey gets to his feet and moves over to Duran’s head. Terrence then leaps up into the air and extends his leg out before dropping a leg along the face of Duran, doing further damage to the jaw as three hundred and sixty pounds comes crashing down onto the Notorious One’s face! Riley: “Poor Duran, his poor face is going to be crushed by that ogre Terrence!” Comet: “As long as the crowd enjoys it, Bobbo, it’s alright with me!” Janus neglects going for the cover, instead getting to his feet again and waiting for Duran to get to his feet, the crowd cheering and wondering if the Gore is coming next for Duran, and possibly a quick finish to this tag match! However, Janus isn’t aware of what corner he’s backed into and, he gets clubbed in the back by Va’aiga. Terrence whips his body around to face the Unnamed corner, but Va’aiga has leaped off the apron by now and invites Bailey to come down and join him. As Terrence has his back turned, he doesn’t see Duran get up behind him, running up and slamming a forearm into the back of Bailey and catching him by surprise. Riley: “Yes! Excellent distraction work from Va’aiga, who might’ve just saved the match for the Unnamed!” Comet: “I must give him credit, even though it was HORRENDOUS cheating.” Duran continues to nail Janus with forearms to the back, but this time Terrence fights back against John’s sneak attack, firing back hard elbows into the gut of Duran as Bailey is doubled over. Eddy Long tries to get both men out of the corner, beginning a five count, but it’s unnecessary as Bailey suddenly turns around and roughly pushes Duran to the mat, the crowd cheering the now-pissed Terrence. Comet: “Looks to me like Citizen Bailey has had enough of the sneaky Citizen Duran!” Va’aiga moves back up onto the apron as Bailey moves towards Duran. Duran scrambles to his feet, finding himself in the Trinity corner. The Notorious One has the presence of mind to turn and catch the unsuspecting Danny Williams with a right hand as Duran escapes from the corner. The crowd lets out a round of boos as Williams tries to get into the ring and get revenge on Duran, but Eddy Long rushes over to the Trinity corner and tells Danny to get back in the corner. While the ref is busy with Danny, Duran glances at the scene behind him and then catches the Australian with a quick boot down under! The men in the crowd feel Janus’ pain as Terrence doubles over in pain and then falls to both knees, the sympathetic groans turning to boos as Duran celebrates his downing of the giant Terrence. Riley: “Yes! I think the tables have officially turned in this match!” Comet: “But it was by a very unofficial move, Bobbo. What a despicable act by Duran!” Riley: “Sin to win, babyyyyyyyy!” Eddy Long finally pays attention to the action as Danny goes back into his corner, noticing Janus down on both knees on the mat, but thinking nothing of it. Duran takes Janus’ head and grabs it in a front facelock, backing Bailey and himself to the Unnamed corner and tags Va’aiga in with his right hand, the left one still holding Terrence as the Maori Badass lets the tag rope go and gets into the match for the first time. Va’aiga hooks his meaty arm around Janus’ neck along with Duran, as they both put a front facelock on and then come towards the center of the ring before dropping Janus with a swift double DDT that spikes the Aussie’s head into the mat! Riley: “Beautiful double DDT from the Unnamed team! They are looking more and more like a unit each match!” Comet: “They just have to make sure to remember that only one member of their team can legally be in the match at the same time!” The crowd continues to boo and yell at the referee as Eddy Long tries to restore order, telling Duran to get back to his corner. Duran does so as Va’aiga turns Janus over onto his back, covering the Anti-Heel Machine and hooking the leg as Eddy turns to the action and falls to the mat, beginning the count! ONE! TWO-KICKOUT! The double DDT is only able to get a two count, as Terrence kicks out with gusto, easily able to hoist Va’aiga off of his shoulders before the count of three. Va’aiga glares at the ref but says nothing as he gets to his feet. Riley: “The referee is having problems tonight, alright, as he was completely out of position when Va’aiga went for the pin! He would’ve had the match won with that double DDT if Eddy Long had been watching the match!” Comet: “That’s what the Unnamed get for illegal double teams!” The Maori Badass brings Terrence up to his feet by his black and white hair and punches Va’aiga with a right hand, backing Janus up to the ropes with hard right and left hands. Finally, Terrence is in the ropes and Va’aiga sends Terrence to the other side! Va’aiga moves to the center of the ring, and as Terrence comes back around, Va’aiga stops him and goes behind Bailey, clubbing him in the back and doubling him over before moving to Terrence’s side and locking in an abdominal stretch! Comet: “Abdominal stretch on Citizen Bailey! His torso is going to get a workout here, but I think he’s resilient enough to get out of this one!” Riley: “Va’aiga is going to make sure to lock that one on tight, though! He’s going to wear the big man down!” As the abdominal stretch is locked on, Va’aiga slowly backs towards the Unnamed corner as Eddy Long checks on Terrence. However, Janus isn’t giving up any time soon. Va’aiga suddenly reaches a right arm back, and hooks hand with Duran as the abdominal stretch is pulled tighter, a blatant double team maneuver from the Unnamed! Janus writhes in pain and winces noticeably as Duran and Va’aiga cheat. Comet: “I can’t believe that Citizen Long does not see that!” Riley: “Eddy was never the sharpest knife in the drawer.” Eddy Long brings his glance up and Duran lets Va’aiga’s hand go, and Eddy is none the wiser as Duran’s hand wraps around the tag rope until Eddy goes back to checking on Janus. The act is repeated, as Duran and Va’aiga once again lock hands, tightening the abdominal stretch and working on the abs of Janus as Bailey still refuses to quit. Comet: “I knew that Citizen Bailey would be tough enough to survive that!” Riley: “Any other man, like Danny Williams, for example, would’ve squealed like a piggy!” After a few moments, the hands become unhooked and the abdominal stretch is aborted. Bailey stumbles into the center of the ring and turns around, as Va’aiga runs in a beeline towards Janus from the Unnamed corner, bringing his boot up and catching Bailey right in the torso with a Yakuza kick that takes the big man down to the mat! However, Terrence doesn’t stay down on the mat for long, trying to get to his feet as he holds his abs. He gets to one knee before the Maori helps him the rest of the way. Va’aiga then simply bends down, putting a hand under Janus and lifting him up into the air, getting the angle correct carefully before slamming the Trinity member down to the mat with a high angle bodyslam! Va’aiga then bends down and gets in Terrence’s face. Va’aiga: “WHAT’S MY NAME?” Riley: “It’s Va’aiga, and he’s going to town on Terrence now! Finally, we have a reason to enjoy this match, Comet!” Before Bailey can get back to his feet again, Va’aiga falls to the mat and puts a hand around the throat of the Australian, trying to choke the life out of him as Eddy doesn’t get in Va’aiga’s face but simply does his job and begins a five count for Va’aiga to break the count. When the Maori Badass doesn’t do this right away, Eddy then tries to pull Va’aiga off Terrence, but it’s for naught. Comet: “Someone stop Citizen Va’aiga, before he kills Citizen Bailey!” Finally, Danny Williams has seen enough and charges into the ring, seeing the choking as a dishonorable thing to do and kicking Va’aiga hard in the gut. Va’aiga winces in pain and looks at Danny, the crowd cheering as Danny wants to keep attacking his opponent at Clusterf*ck, but Eddy Long once again tries to keep order and tells Danny Williams to get back into the corner. Riley: “Good for Eddy Long, it’s nice to know that he’s doing his best to keep control of this match and keep it fair and balanced!” While Eddy is busy in the corner with Danny, Va’aiga brings Bailey up to his feet and takes him to the Unnamed corner, where Va’aiga tells Duran some instructions and then both men push Bailey into the corner! Duran leaps off the apron and holds the legs of Bailey as Va’aiga continues to choke him, the crowd booing as Eddy finally gets Danny in the corner, no matter how much Williams pleads the ref to turn around and look at what is happening to his tag team partner. Janus is unable to kick himself out of this situation with Duran holding his legs, and finally Eddy notices the double team in the corner and rushes over to break it up. Va’aiga finally does, but the damage has been done. Comet: “Now it’s fair and balanced, but it certainly must’ve taken a long time for Citizen Bailey to feel the justice from Referee Long.” In VERY clear view of the ref however, the Unnamed decide to bend the rules rather than break them, and Va’aiga tags in Duran, the Notorious One having hopped back up onto the ring apron again. Duran steps into the ring and the pair whip Bailey into the ropes, waiting for the seven footer to rebound before smashing him into the mat with a VICIOUS double flapjack. Va’aiga steps out of the ring as Eddy Long hits 4 on his five count, but not before a… Va’aiga: “BOO-YAH!” Riley: “Ladies and Gentlemen, once again we have Boo-Yah!” Duran fires a few punches into the sternum of Terry Bailey and hooks in a tight side headlock as Janus bends over, whipping the big man over with an impressive vertical Suplex. Duran fires a pair of knee strikes into the back of Bailey as the pair are at canvas level, and Duran drags Janus back to his feet as he stands. Duran thinks about trying to rack Janus but settles for a sloppy Samoan Drop as the big Aussie is just a little too huge to get torture racked. Comet: “This could be a major weakness for Duran. He can Suplex Bailey with simple stuff, but I don’t’ think he can hit things like the Dragon Suplex or as we’ve just seen Blunt Force Trauma the big guy” Riley: “It’s going to take strategy to beat Terrence Bailey, but John Duran is a master of mind games and a real thinking man’s wrestler.” Duran stomps away at Terry Bailey and the big Aussie rolls away a little on the mat, avoiding a few of the stomps. Duran tags Va’aiga in again and traps Janus in a double chickenwing allowing Va’aiga enough time and space to crank up one of his massive Maori headbutts, and as tattooed skull meets skull Janus reels off in pain, Duran having been forced out of the ring under orders from Eddy Long again. Riley: “This is just classic tag team wrestling. The assault is relentless and Janus never has a chance to tag out and recover, while the Unnamed always have the fresher man in the ring.” Comet: “Now why don’t you just walk on up there and give them an award, Bobbo?” Riley: “If I were responsible for awards in the SWF I would.” Va’aiga picks Bailey up and slings the enormous Australian over his shoulder with amazing style and power. Va’aiga snaps Janus down to the mat with a vicious bodyslam and kicks him disdainfully before dropping a leg across Bailey’s chest. Va’aiga stands again and bounces himself off the ropes near his corner, building up momentum before dropping an elbow into the heart of his Australian opponent. Va’aiga dorps and covers… ONE! TWO! THR.. and Bailey kicks out. Va’aiga tags Duran in quickly and the Notorious One stalks Janus. Comet: “Va’aiga with a close two count there, but sustained attack doesn’t work as effectively against Terry Bailey, and the Unnamed are looking for that big move to put away the monster.” Duran waits for Janus to get up and grabs an arm of the mighty Australian. Duran wrings the massive Bailey’s arm as he moves round to the side of his opponent, before moving to the back and sliding his arm round into a half nelson. Duran then slides his free arm under Janus’ other arm locking in the Full Nelson! Riley: “This could be that big move, Comet. This could be the Ultimate Sin!” Struggling and straining to hit the move that could end the match, Duran summons all of his energy to try to lift Janus up off the mat. Given the height disadvantage and the massive size in general of Mr. Bailey, Duran loses his grip before he can lever Janus over. Terry Bailey slips free, and Duran sensing that at least the full nelson was doing some damage goes for the arm again, but Janus anticipates this and intercepts Duran with a KNUCKLE BOMB THAT SENDS DURAN FLYING ACROSS THE RING!!! Janus collapses to the mat, exhausted and begins to crawl towards his corner. Comet: “The Knuckle Bomb! This could be Citizen Bailey’s chance to tag out!” The crowd begins to rhythmically clap, encouraging Terrence Bailey on as he crawls and reaches desperately out towards his corner, John Duran slaps the hand of the Maori Badass as he staggers backwards and Va’aiga leaps over the top rope into the ring and in one motion dives on Duran trapping his legs and pulling him away from the corner. Another round of boos from the crowd greets Va’aiga as he turns round still holding onto Janus’ legs and locks in a tight Maori Boston Crab! Riley: “The Boston Crab! After the beating Janus has taken in this match this HAS to be it for the Machine.” Comet: “Citizen Bailey is a strong individual, but this has been a two on one situation so far in this match and even the behemothal can be taken down by superior odds.” Riley: “Behemothal?” Comet: “Very big.” The Maori Badass leans back as far as he can without losing grip on Terrence. Va’aiga stretches and strains, seated over Janus and pulling his legs back into the Boston Crab. Janus stretches and struggles trying to break free on the hold pulling the muscles in his legs and back unnaturally. Va’aiga screams “TAP!” at his trapped opponent, but as Eddy Long checks on Janus, the seven foot Aussie wshakes his head signaling a no. Comet: “Citizen Bailey REFUSES to tap out, Robert. What a show of fortitude!” Riley: “He’ll have to tap out sooner or later, Comet.” Locking his arms tightly around the legs of his Australian opponent, Va’aiga leans back and tenses his biceps, pulling back on a horrific assortment of muscle groups in Janus’ back and legs. As the massive Aussie is stuck fast in the vice like hold of Va’aiga, the crowd’s rallying cheers and calls turn to boos as a massive bear chested figure and his shorter, briefcase wielding accomplice walk slowly out of the entrance gate and approach the ringside area. Comet: “Oh no. Here comes the Grappler Charlie Matthews and the Unnamed’s legal advisor Citizen James Matheson.” Riley: “Obviously here to scout out possible future opposition, and to offer moral support. If Matheson’s involved it’s all going to be legal and above board.” Comet: “I doubt Matheson’s sincerity in his presence.” Terrence Bailey struggles and begins the slow journey, inching towards his corner. Matheson and Grappler settle well away form the ring apron as Eddy Long eyes the pair suspiciously. Va’aiga is forced to lower the pressure of the hold as he tries to steady the hold and prevent Janus from getting loose but the momentum is with the man from the north west side of the Tasman sea. Bailey beings to crawl loose and as the crowd builds a “TRI-NI-TY! TRI-NI-TY!” chant, egged on by the hyped up and ready to go Danny Williams. Comet: “Citizen Bailey is nearing the corner! This could be a dramatic escape for the Australian Giant!” Bailey reaches and stretches and leans and gets oh so agonizingly close to a tag. Charlie Matthews hops up onto the ring apron to try to distract the referee but Eddy Long is having nothing of it. Janus reaches his fingertips out to the fullest of his massive reach and Danny Williams, holding the tag rope stretches out himself and MAKES THE TAG! The crowd goes wild ans Danny steps into the ring and rushes at the Maori Badass staggering him back towards his won corner with a huge elbow smash! Comet: “DANNY WILLIAMS IS IN! DANNY WILLIAMS IS IN! ELBOW!” John Duran blinds tags into the match and climbs into the ring, rushing at the fully charged Deathwish Danny. Duran swings a clothesline at Danny Williams, but Deathwish ducks and fires off a second elbow smash, catching Duran square on the chin! Duran drops to the mat like a rock dropped off a cliff! Comet: “ELBOW!” Williams clenches his fists and pumps the air, the buzz of the crowd firing the World Champion up. Danny takes a step forward and pivots gracefully on his front foot, spinning round and smashing into the staggering Maori with a tremendous crack, hitting the… Comet: “ROOOOOOOLING ELBOOOOOOOOOOOOW!” Turning to Duran, the raging Williams closes in for the kill and grabs a hold of his Notorious opponent. Williams slides around behind Duran and blasts him head first down to the canvas with a DANGEROUS GERMAN SUPLEX! Duran collapses and Williams dives on the Notorious One. Eddy Long drops and counts… ONE! TWO! THR…no! Duran kicks out. Comet: “ONE! TWO! TH.. NOOO!” Riley: “That was a close shout for the Notorious One, but that wasn’t enough to throw this match into the hands of the Unholy Trinity!” Williams stands and picks up the slumping Duran with one arm, dragging Duran to his feet. Signalling to the crowd , Williams elbows Duran again to soften him up and slaps a standing head scissors on. Danny backs up to get himself a little more space, only to be smashed across the back by an outreaching Grappler, and Deathwish turns to him. Across the ring John Duran stands slowly and complains away to Eddy Long about Danny having closed his fist, an untruth as Danny clearly hit him with the elbow. Meanwhile Danny Williams has a full head of steam and the Deathwish One winds up another tornado like spin and lashes out at Matthews with another… Comet: “ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLING ELBOOOOOOOOOOW!!!!” Riley: “DUCKED!!!” …and Riley’s call is right as Charlie Matthews ducks below the elbow! Danny follows through and ends up with his back to the Grappler! Grappler grabs the back of Danny’s long straggly hair and whips Deathwish down to the apron. Grappler hops off the apron and holds tight onto Danny’s neck at mat level! Va’aiga slowly gets back to his feet and as referee Eddy Long orders Matthews to back off, which he does, Va’aiga has time to land a cheap crossface blow on Danny. Comet: “My God what a cheapshot on Deathwish Danny Williiams there. I knew the Grappler would get involved, Robert.” Riley: “I think the referee was busy with John Duran for a second there. Hence he didn’t see it. Hence it isn’t cheating.” Showing off his amazing vitality and inner strength – his fighting spirit – Va’aiga gets back to his feet and climbs back onto the ring apron. Duran leaves Eddy Long alone and turns back to the standing Danny Williams. The crowd noise has died a little as the Unnamed cheat to win again, but it rises as Danny stuns Duran with yet another quick elbow strike. The noise builds further as Danny slips round to a back waistlock again!!! Comet: “Danny Williams takes control again! That little piece of skullduggery may not pay off as Citizen Williams looks for a second DANGEROUS GERMAN!!” Riley: “If he hits this John Duran is deader than a dolphin in a tuna net.” Comet: “That has to be the WORST simile I’ve heard in my entire life.” Riley: “Yeah well you think of a better one, Mr Fancy Name!” Trapped in the back waistlock John Duran fights and begins to push the far smaller Williams backwards towards the Unnamed’s corner. Williams struggles for leverage and nearly stars sending the Notorious One over, but Duran just uses the opportunity to get within range and Va’aiga blind tags himself in over Williams’ shoulder and Va’aiga and Duran work over Williams with a series of punches and stomps, raining down on the World Champion! Comet: “More blatant double teams from the Unnamed! This match is getting out of control!” Eddy Long moves over to break up the chaos and seeing the referee isn’t going to stop him from entering the ring, Janus strides over the top rope and heads off toward the melee. Terry Bailey, fire in his eyes take some meaningful paces towards Duran and Va’aiga, and Eddy Long turns, just in time to see Va’aiga take a three step run up and SPARK OUT BAILEY WITH AN OUT OF NOWHERE, OUT OF CONTROL AND STRIAGHT OUT OF THE DEPTHS OF HELL LAAAAARIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAATOOOOOOOOOOO! Riley: “THE LARIAT! THE LARIAT! THE LARIAT!” Va’aiga turns back to Williams and hoists him up, the Maori’s tattooed head under Williams’ armpit. Va’aiga leans backwards and lifts Williams up as Duran gets into position. Danny Williams fights to escape the back suplex, but it’s to no avail as Va’aiga begins to fall backwards. Duran reaches out backwards, holding Danny Williams’ head to his shoulder, and the Unnamed fall to the mat, causing Danny Williams’ neck to make a sickening cracking sound. Riley: “DOUBLE NECK TRAUMA!!! AND BOTH MEN IN THE RING ARE LEGAL! COUNT EDDY LONG! COUNT!!!” Comet: “No! It shouldn’t end like this!” Eddy Long drops to count as Va’aiga hooks a leg of Danny Williams. The crowd screams and curses at the three wrestlers who make up the Unnamed as Eddy Long’s hand slaps against the mat… ONE! TWO!!!! THREE!!!!! Comet: “The Unnamed have won this match tonight, and I can’t say it’s a victory they deserved. And what’s this… another heinous act?” Matthews jumps into the ring, Matheson scampering along behind and Matthews stomps away at Danny Williams as Va’aiga and John Duran move over to the spark out Terry Bailey. The boos and jeers continue, but as one they turn to cheers as storming out of the entrance gate comes… Comet: “DACE NIGHT!! Here to save the day!” Dace rushes up the ramp and slides into the ring, firing elbows left, right and center! John Duran goes flying as Dace’s elbow connects with his chin! Chalrie Matthews too is sent barreling over as Dace powers the ball of his elbow into his forehead! One elbow slows the Maori Badass and a second sends even the almighty Va’aiga flying! Turning around the ring slowly Dace stares right into the terrified eyes of James Matheson! As Matheson plaeds and screams his innocence, The F’n Horrocore One grabs Matheson by the suit and slams him into a standing head scissors. Comet: “Yes!!! Revenge maybe an ignoble art, but when the victim is James Matheson, it’s not undeserved!” Riley: “No man deserves Defeenstration! Especially not a helpless untrained man of the people like Matheson!” Grabbing for Matheson’s arms and underhooks both of them, looking out into the crowd and readying Matheson for the deadly Defenestration. On the floor beside him Va’aiga slides something across the ring to Matthews, but Dace is too focused on Matheson and Matthews makes a despairing dive and blasts Dace with the LOADED BREIFCASE! Comet: “Matthews with a cheapshot!” Riley: “And it looks like James Matheson’s been into heeeaaaavvvy work again.” Dace drops to the canvas and as Va’aiga and Duran stand up and add a few more tired stomps, Matthews walks over to the Trinity’s corner and grabs for Danny and Bailey’s title belts. Matthews removes his own belt form round his waist while throwing the others to his stablemates, and as the show fades out, Duran, Va’aiga and Matthews stand in the center of the ring, each holding high and proud a belt – Matthews with his ICTV belt, Duran with the Hardcore Gamers strap and Va’aiga with the world title…. Comet: The Unnamed have made a statement here tonight, and for Bobby Riley this is the Cyclone Comet saying make sure to order the Clusterfreak Pay Per View this Sunday!” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Suicide King Report post Posted January 27, 2004 Results? You know better than that, surely. Do not reply to this thread as I am leaving it open until I or another mod edit in the Va'aiga promo. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
