Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 SWF Lockdown is just about to hit the airwaves world wide when a gold cadillac pulls into the loading area of the Mellon Arena. The boos from the crowd can be heard all the way in the rear of the arena as the door opens and out steps the enormous HVT. Standing not far away is a lanky, teenaged looking man, who notices HVT’s presence and makes eye contact. (HVT) – Yo…cuz…park is somewhere nice for me. (Man) – Sorry Thugg, but I can’t… (HVT) – Yo! Peep dis…I’m pissed off about dat fuckin’ bitch Michael Craven tossin’ me out at the ClusterFuck. And, I got some unfinished business to take care of in dis bitch. So park da ride and shut the fuck up…fo’ I gotta break my foot off in yo ass…fo’ real. (Man) – Y…y…yes sir. (HVT) – That’s what I fuckin’ thought. HVT storms away from the frightened staffer and immediately moves through the door and enters the backstage area of the arena to a chorus of boos… Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 Phseeeeeeewwwww... Phseeeeeeewwwww... Phseeeeeeewwwww... ... *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM*!!! And with a huge eruption of pyro, and an erruption from the fans in attendance, SWF Lockdown is ON THE AIR! The cameras whirl around the arena, catching glimpses of the rowdy audience in attendance, jumping around for the chance to get even a half-second of air time. The camera even catches a few shots of unbelieveably witty signs, none of which I'm going to go the effort of describing. Deal with it. Finally finishing its panning and swooping, the camera settles on the announcer's table, where two familiar faces meet us... "Salutations, citizens, and to *all* the ships at sea," booms Cyclone Comet, enthusiastic as always. "We are jam packed to the rafters here in Pittsburgh, for yet another episode of SWF Lockdown! Tonight promises curious chaos and fantastic fightery," says Comet, as he leans into the camera. "So I hope all you parents have put the kids to bed." "Excelscior," deadpans Bobby Riley, Comet's ever-loving broadcast partner. "Tonight also promises 'disappointing drudgery' edition in a long line of disgustingly biased main events against the Unnamed. Seriously, Comet! How does Mark *honestly* think Grappler isn't going to get involved!? It's just a good thing Duran's title isn't on the line..." "Your integrity is sterling as always, Robert," grumbles Comet. "I'm sure you think it's entierly fair that that criminal James Matheson gets away with it, and has rigged every possible legal loophole for the Unnamed to boot! Which is *exactly* why Duran is NOT defeding his title tonight." "Details, details," Riley dismisses. "Anyway, our first match of tonight's card is..." WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAH! A burst of bright white pyro fires from the left side of the entrance ramp, and the crowd immediately showers the entrance area with a chorus of boos! WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAH! A second burst of bright white pyro fires from the right side of the entrance ramp, slightly further up. Comet sighs and mutters, "Great." Riley can only laugh. "Haha... damn right this is great. I didn't think mah boys would let tonight's card go by without letting everyone have a piece of their mind." BULLET THE BLUE SKY! BULLET THE BLUE SKY! BULLET THE BLUE! BULLET THE BLUE! As the familiar lyrics sound off, the entrance-way curtain is thrown aside, and the Unnamed's procession down to the ring begins. The newest members, Landon Maddix, Todd Royal and Megan Skye are at the point, while John Duran and James Matheson trail behind. Last but not least, Va'aiga is at the very rear of the group, the jeering nearly doubling as he shrugs the glittering SWF world championship onto his shoulder, following after the rest of his stable. "Unfortunately, Robert, neither did I," says Comet, finally responding to Bobby's comment. "Ladies and gentlemen," announces Funyon, "Please welcome the Unnamed!" The booing continues as all six of the Unnamed enter the ring, flames shooting up from each of the four turnbuckles. The four wrestlers and their manager/valet take a moment to bask in the inflamed crowd, before "Bullet the Blue Sky" fades out, and John Duran recieves the microphone... "Hello, Pittsburgh," Duran intones, with a forced grin, as the rest of the arena hails jeers onto him. "It's good to see so many faces! It's good to see this city still has SOME dedication left, seeing as you can't turn out for any of the lameass teams around here." No matter how right he is, Pittsburgh doesn't appreciate that, as they begin a loud “FUCK YOU DU-RAN *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP*” chant. The forced grin on his face immediately drops into a grimace. "Yeah, well, *BEEP* you too. As I was saying, it's good to know you people can turn up for the only attraction worth coming to see... the Unnamed continuing to prove they are THE power, the irresistable force of the SWF!" More boos. Duran shrugs it off. "Hey, come on. Tonight, Todd over there is going to kick Coy's ass back to the trailer park," says Duran, indicating to Royal. He smirks and nods as the Sinner continues. "Furthermore, his deciphile, Landon, is going to run that flippy-floppy *BEEP*head Wildchild right through the ringer, and he sure as hell won't need a crowbar to pry his prize title out of his hands..." Duran pauses. "But hell, I wouldn't object him using one!" The shot at Wildchild gets an enormous round of boos, but Landon just shakes his head with a knowing smile, while Todd and Megan jaw with some of the rowdier fans at ringside. Comet groans, "Now that was just completely uncalled for." "Pfft," Riley dismisses. "Everyone's completely underrating Landon, just because they saw him lose to Sacred, and weren't watching the JL before it got snuffed out. Pity, since the House of Todd were the only thing worth tuning in for." "Anyway," Duran continues. "The point is that it'd be a lot easier if you'd all just accept it. 'Cause I mean, if all that isn't enough, tonight the Notorious One himself is going to face Dace Night, in this very ring. Make sure he's good and soft... putty in Va'aiga's hands for his title defense on Smarkdown! And maybe, just maybe, I'll get a chance to take out that double-crossing son of a bitch Charlie Matthews, who the commissioner oh-so unbaisedly inserted into the match!" Big boos for the shot at Grand Slam. "Double-crossing my spandex covered BUTT," shouts Comet! "Grappler *won* the Clusterfuck, fair and square, and Va'aiga is just afraid to face him!" "Va'aiga? Afraid? I continue to wonder what the hell you're on, Comet," says Bobby. "Grappler was a card carrying member of the Unnamed, and what did he do? He went out there, and made no secret of his intent to WIN! He didn't even try to stop Duran from getting tossed!" "He wasn't even in the match in time to help Duran! And besides, Robert, what was Grappler supposed to do?" Duran gives one last scowl to the fans before he flips the mic to the world champion, who lets a gruff snort into it. "Duran... you're right. I'm so sick of Mark Stevens' *BEEP* too. Hey, at least he knows what's happening... he can see us, the Unnamed, growing stronger. He can see us getting more powerful. He did everything he could to stop this Maori from reaching the top of the heap. He did EVERYTHING he could to help Janus dodge his defense against Duran..." "Zeus's helmet, Va'aiga must be delusional," Cyclone mutters. "He did EVERYTHING he could to hold us down," shouts Va'aiga! The crowds jeering hits critical mass, clearly upset over the constant trashing of the commissioner. Va'agia's brow furrows, and he hollers, "Hey, yo, SHUT THE *BEEP* UP! Despite all this, I did it! I AM THE WORLD CHAMPION! I deserve some *BEEP*ing respect! The Unnamed deserve *BEEP*ing respect! I beat Danny Williams! I RETIRED Danny Williams! Duran beat Janus! We HAVE the strength, and you CANNOT deny us any more! Our numbers grow... our titles increase... we ARE the dominant force of this federation! And there isn't a damn THING," he says, dangerously, "the commissioner can do about that. BOOYA--" **CRACK!** And the crowd, simply put, explodes. "And it looks like the commissioner has finally heard enough," cheers Comet! "The Unnamed may have been barking up the wrong tree, Robert." "Eh. This is nothing they haven't seen before." "Go Home" thumps, the crowd swells, and "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens steps from backstage. There is an unreadable expression on the face of the face of the commissioner as he rasies one hand to acknowledge and quiet the crowd, his other gripping a microphone which he brings to his mouth. "Va'aiga, Duran... that's two strikes, guys. I figured I'd stop you before you took another swing." The crowd cheers again, while the Unnamed look somewhere between disgruntled and unimpresed. Mark continues, "Va'aiga, I don't know where you wrapped your head around this nonsense, and frankly, I'm not really interested in finding out. But, I think I should really get one thing across... I'd like to think I'm an honourable man, and I will never diminish any of your achievments in this federation. You ARE the world champion. You earned it," says Grand Slam, sounding very sincere. Va'aiga regards Mark with a quizzical look as he continues, "And though I don't agree with the way you got to it, I respect that belt and I respect that it signifies you are the best at what you do. No, Va'aiga, I don't hate you because you're successful..." ...pause... Mark sneers, "I hate you because you're an asshole!" The crowd bursts into cheers, as Va'aiga face falls and he runs towards the edge of the ring, shouting unpleasantries in the direction of Stevens. Mark maintains his serious expression, "But never the less... you are my world champion, and you have the right to voice your displeasure about my booking. Even in a manner such as this." "Well, lord knows Mark used to do it all the time himself," says Riley. "HOWEVER," Grand Slam starts. "You guys seem to think you've got it all planned out... that between Matheson's legal loopholes, Duran's cunning and Va'aiga brute strength, nothing can stop you. Well... you're wrong!" Big pop! "I'm still the ultimate authority of the SWF, Va'aiga, no matter what you think of that. I was always more of a hitter, but I'm going to throw you a curve ball: As commissioner, I'm mandating that you wrestle tonight!" Another big pop! The Unnamed adopt (angrier) expressions, as everyone in the ring begins shouting protests! "Furthermore," Mark continues, "I'm also mandating... and with all respect to Dace Night... that you DEFEND THE SWF WORLD TITLE!" The crowd goes critical mass! "WHAT!?" shouts Riley, aghast. "Good gracious! Justice has intervened and Mark Stevens just laid down the law! Va'aiga's going to have to defend the title tonight, BEFORE he faces Dace." Seething, Va'aiga begins shouting, "What the hell!? WHAT THE *BEEP*!? In case you didn't notice, Stevens, I'm injured. You can't seriously think I'm going to wrestle before I face Dace in..." "You can and you will," says Mark, flatly. "I've seen nothing that tells me you're in no condition to wrestle, especially cosidering what you did to Alan Clark and the Memphis Eel, and the fact you agreed to face Dace in... one of the most disturbing stipulations I've ever seen." Va'aiga trembles with anger, pacing around the ring... before settling down somewhat. He turns back to Mark and raises the mic, "Alright, Stevens... alright. This Maori ain't never turned down any challange in his career. But--and it ain't gonna *BEEP*ing happen--what if I lose? And who the hell AM I facing?" "The new champion will be inserted into your already agreed-on match with Dace, Va'aiga," Grand Slam states. "And as far as who you're facing..." Mark pauses, and then looks over the crowd. He smirks, "well, honestly, I don't think I really have any right to tell you. You grab the bull... you WILL get him by the horns. And that, son, is a damn promise." And with another crowd pop, "Go Home" kicks up, as the commissioner makes his exit. In the ring, Va'aiga curses loudly, and then quickly turns to James Matheson and begins shouting something unintelligable. Matheson nods vigorously, as the Unnamed begin to file out... "I can't believe this," Bobby grumbles. "How can ANYONE say Mark Stevens and fair and unbiased after THAT?" "Anyone with a lick of sense, Robert. This is shaping up to be a most interesting night... fans, don't go anywhere. We'll be back with Alan Clark vs Toxxic after these messages!" Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 The Mellon Arena shines and the crowd goes wild as the SWF has arrived in Pittsburgh! Fans are on their feet throughout the entire arena as the viewing audience is welcomed back to Lockdown! Fans wave their signs, trying their hardest to get on camera as everyone’s favorite superhero, CYCLOOOOOOONE COMET, and everyone’s favorite guy whose name happens to rhyme with Knobby Kylie…the ever-bending Bobby Riley! “Are you ready for tonight, Robert? Are you ready?” “I can honestly say that I can’t wait! We’ve got cage matches, contendership matches, championship matches, and something that we only know as a “Triple Impact” match with Andrew Blackwell and Spike Jenkins! So much action tonight!” Riley is almost cut off at the end of his rant as “We Still Kill The Old Way” from the Lostprophets brings out the first superstar of the night for the opening contest. As two blazes of red pyro shoot into the air and over the crowd, Toxxic steps through the curtain…his straight-edge style bringing a bit larger cheer for the newest SWF superstar as he makes his way to the ring. “It looks like Toxxic gets to start things off tonight, coming off his upset against the uber-veteran Jacob Helmsley on Storm!” Comet remarks as Funyon begins his introduction. “Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL and is to determine the NUMBER ONE CONTENDER FOR THE CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP! …Introducing first, from Nottingham in the beautiful United Kingdom…He is… TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXXXXIC~!” Funyon finishes with a flourish as Toxxic enters the ring and climbs to the second turnbuckle, posing in a crucifix and leaning out toward the crowd, his grin always present. Toxxic hops down from the corner as his music slowly fades. As Toxxic watches on from the ring, a storm seems to be kicking up inside of the Mellon Arena. As rain and thunder echo throughout the building, the opening acoustic chords of Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive” begin to play, and screen slowly fades to black and white. “And his opponent…” Funyon begins as the songs lyrics kick in, bringing Alan Clark out from behind the curtain, a smile on his face and his guitar over his shoulder. “…hailing from Long Beach, California…he is… ALAN CLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRKKKKKKKK~!” The music barely can be heard over the Pittsburgh crowd as Alan walks toward the ring, high-fiving a few fans. In the ring, Toxxic looks on Alan Clark walks around the corner of the ring, talking the guitar off of his shoulder and handing it to an attendant. “Keep it safe.” Alan can be heard saying to the attendant, before he turns and slides under the bottom rope, the screen returning to color and the music slowly fading out to nothingness. “This seems highly unfair, Robert. Alan Clark is a former JL Champion…and this is only Toxxic’s second match…we could be seeing Toxxic’s first loss well before the rookie sees it.” “For one of the only times in my life, I agree with you whole-heartedly. Alan Clark may just be too much of a challenge for the kid.” Riley responds to Comet as Nick Soapdish stands between the two men and signals for the bell to start the match. *DING DING DING* Alan Clark is caught off guard almost immediately, as Toxxic rushes in and goes for a quick soccer tackle, but Alan is quick enough on his feet to hop up and over the outstretched rookie, causing Toxxic to sail underneath him and land on his back. “Going for the ankles early could cost him…” Riley comments as Alan lands on his feet and spins around quickly, but meets Toxxic facing him on his knees. Alan moves in, but Toxxic hops up and spins 360 degrees, sending his foot into Alan’s midsection, causing the former champ to stumble backwards. Toxxic rushes in on Clark and shoves him hard into the corner and follows with a hard series of European Uppercuts. “Toxxic is just dishing out the European Uppercuts…” Riley starts, but Comet is quick to correct him. “Robert, to him…they would just be regular uppercuts.” Riley’s jaw drops at Comet’s remark as a fan right behind him gets on camera, holding up a small “Riley Is GLAAD” sign. Back in the ring, Toxxic lifts Alan up to the top rope and, using the ropes as a makeshift ladder-slash-trampoline, he pops up to the top rope and onto Alan’s shoulders. Toxxic wraps his legs around Clark’s head and aims for a hurricanrana, but the ‘veteran’ Clark blocks, holding Toxxic upside down, his head dangling a few feet from the mat. “Toxxic could be in deep trouble!” Comet exclaims as the rookie valiantly pulls himself back up, but Alan shoves Toxxic off his shoulders… …Toxxic flips backwards… …and lands perfectly on his feet! “Nice counter!” Even Riley can admit as… *THUD* “Alan Clark just dove off the second rope and spun 360 degrees and right into a clothesline!” “Now why did he do that silly spin? That was stupid!” “Now Robert…he’s just trying to have fun! Can’t you have fun?” “I could, but Edwin doesn’t swing that way…” Riley mumbles under his breathe as, behind him, security is standing with the teenager with the ‘Riley’ sign, and they are all laughing and pointing toward the announce table. Riley seems oblivious, as usual. As Alan gets back to his feet from the clothesline, Toxxic rolls to his stomach and crawls up as well. Alan’s friendly nature seems to get the better of him as he helps the rookie up to his feet. Toxxic seems…shocked…to say the least, as he looks around…wondering why his opponent is helping him. “What is going on here?” Riley questions, but soon all is known as Alan abandons the good nature and dives in for another clothesline, only for Toxxic to duck out of the way, leaving Alan to hit the turnbuckle chest first with authority! Toxxic seems ready as Alan stumbles out of the corner… …and into a ROLLUP! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! “Alan Clark almost stumbled right into an upset from Toxxic!” Comet exclaims as Alan rolls backward from the pin attempt and looks at Toxxic, who simply smiles his lopsided grin. Alan returns the grin to the rookie and the two rush together and lock-up, a close-up showing both men’s eyes locked, teethy grins showing brightly under the ring lights. Alan, being slightly stronger than Toxxic, begins pushing back on the rookie, the two sliding toward the ropes. Toxxic’s back hits the ropes and Alan continues to push, causing Toxxic’s legs to shoot into the air, and Alan almost flips over the top. “Toxxic is hanging dangerously over that top ro-WAIT!” Comet screams as Toxxic flips backward over the top and lands on his feet on the outside. Before Alan can make a move, Toxxic reaches under the bottom rope and trips the former JL champion up, causing Alan to fall to his back on the mat. Toxxic pulls Alan to the outside before he slides back in, hopping to his feet. Alan tries the same move on the rookie, reaching his hands under the bottom rope, but Toxxic quickly jumps, and brings his feet down right onto Alan’s fingers… “YAHH!” Alan screams out as he jumps back, pulling his hands out of harms way and sticking his fingers in his mouth, trying to soothe them. A bit of laughter can be heard coming from the crowd, and a lot from Bobby Riley at the announce table. “That was great! Those are the kinds of counters I like to see!” “Robert, would you like me to step on YOUR fingers?” Comet questions Riley, prompting a quick ‘NO!’ from his partner as Alan shakes off the pain in his hands and slides into the ring, but Toxxic is ready once more, booting Alan in the head repeatedly, keeping him close to the mat. Alan holds his head in pain as Toxxic pulls him up to his feet and whips him into the corner. At the last possible second, Alan reverses the irish whip, sending Toxxic heading toward the corner instead. Just as Toxxic is about to hit, he leaps into the air, getting amazing height as he hits the top with his feet and flies off backwards, heading back toward a charging Alan Clark…spinning and catching the former champ with a hard clothesline! “Role Reversal!” “Role Reversal?” questions Riley, “I don’t see either one of them switching clothes or calling each other ‘daddy’. What are you talking about, Comet?!” “I would ask you the same thing…but I have a brain.” Comet chuckles a little as Alan climbs back up to his feet, and right into a hard knee from Toxxic, catching him square in the temple. Alan reels back and lays across the second rope, his body a little limp from the recent abuse. Toxxic sees his chance and rushes to the far ropes, bouncing off and heading towards Alan, who is still caught up… “What is he going to do nowwww - OH MY! OH MY!” The Cyclone Comet yells out as Toxxic uses Clark’s back as a springboard, hopping up and over the top rope and to the floor, grabbing Alan’s neck as he falls past, pulling down hard and choking the former JLer on the second rope, causing him to fall backwards and into the ring. Alan grabs his neck, gasping for air after the high-risk move from the young gun. “That was insane! What was he thinking? Why do we hire these people?” Riley exclaims as the Pittsburgh crowd explodes in cheers for the rookie, who takes a moment on the outside to acknowledge the fans, pointing up towards the rafters, the grin on his face growing substantially wider. “These fans are really giving a warm welcome to the newcomer here tonight on Lockdown!” “Comet…I would be getting that kind of reaction for diving over the top rope like that! These people have no concern for human life!” “I highly doubt they would be cheering for you, Robert…unless you mean that as in ‘you hitting off the ground at full speed”. You know it’s true!” Comet exclaims as Toxxic rolls back in the ring and goes for a cover... “I can’t believe you…your audacity!” ONE! TWO! “UPSET!” Both announcers yell just as Alan Clark’s shoulder fires off the mat, keeping the match alive. “Had Toxxic not taken all that time on the outside to listen to these fans then he could be celebrating a huge victory right now!” Riley makes a point as Alan tries to get back to his feet, but Toxxic isn’t taking anymore breaks for adulation, sending his foot into Clark’s head once more, pushing Alan onto his back. Toxxic gets to his feet and steps back into the corner, prepping himself a little before rushing in and leaping into the air…bringing his knee down hard right across Clark’s forehead! “Beautiful knee drop there! Could Toxxic be working Alan over for that Shock Syndrome of his?” “No Comet…he’s probably going to put him in a figure freaking four!” Riley sarcastically comments as Toxxic pops up to his feet and goes to the corner, hopping up to the second rope. Toxxic stands in the corner and sweeps his arms wide into a crucifix pose. The crowd cheers for the rookie as Alan lays near the corner, still down from the knee drop. Toxxic leaps off and flips through the air, bringing his body around an estimated 270 degrees (give or take a few degrees), and brings his left leg right down across Alan’s face, causing another huge pop from the crowd. “This crowd is going crazy! They may love Alan Clark here in Pittsburgh, but the rookie Toxxic is really showing his stuff here tonight!” Comet exclaims as Toxxic immediately goes for a cover… ONE! TWO! THREE! NOOOO!! Alan Clark’s shoulder barely gets off the mat, causing fighting the crowds as cheers and chants begin for both men almost simultaneously! AL-AN! AL-AN! TOX-XIC! TOX-XIC! AL-AN! AL-AN! TOX-XIC! TOX-XIC! AL-AN! AL-AN! TOX-XIC! TOX-XIC! “This crowd is completely torn! But they may not be for long!” Riley remarks as Toxxic heads back up to the top rope as Alan continues to recover from barely kicking out from the Hangover. “What is this kid going to pull out next?” Comet questions, and Toxxic soon answers by hopping out a bit from the corner and springing off the top rope, flipping backwards as flashbulbs pop throughout the arena and he comes crashing down on top of Alan Clark with a beautiful moonsault! “Springboard Moonsault! It has to be over right here!” Riley yells as Toxxic stays in position for a pin attempt… ONE! TWO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “CLARK KICKED OUT! CLARK KICKED OUT!” Cyclone Comet explodes as Alan’s shoulder fires off the mat and the former JL superstar shoves the rookie off his chest and spins up to his feet… “Alan Clark is running on adrenaline---Ooooo…but not for long!” Riley comments as Alan’s burst of energry is stopped by Toxxic, who sends a forearm into Alan’s head and a boot to his midsection, doubling Alan over. Clark stumbles forward and into Toxxic’s waiting grasp, as he hooks Alan’s arms behind his back. “If it wasn’t over before…it’s definitely over now!” Riley exclaims… “He is just a Toxic Shock Syndrome away from heading into a match with the Cruiserweight Champion!” Toxxic goes to lift Alan off his feet, but the feisty Clark goes deadweight in Toxxic’s grasp, and as the rookie tries to re-hook the hold, Alan lifts him up over his head and to the canvas with a desperation back body drop! “Alan Clark used his ring skills to get out of the Toxic Shock!” “Of course, Robert…Alan Clark used that same move to defeat Jamie Drazon back during the Genesis Tournament – and I’m sure he knows how to escape from his own moves, even his old ones, if he has to!” Comet makes a point, but Toxxic is quickly back to his feet and rushes Alan, attacking with hard closed fists… LEFT! RIGHT! LEFT! RIGHT! THE WIND-UP!!! CLOTHESLINE!!!!!! DUCKED! *THUD* “Alan Clark just got AMPED~ as Toxxic tries for that huge discus clothesline!” Riley yells as Clark drives Toxxic into the mat with his signature neckbreaker…causing a HUGE pop from the Mellon Arena crowd. “Toxxic was looking for that clothesline, but Clark saw it coming and ducked just in time, leaving the rookie in perfect position to Get Amped with that huge neckbreaker!” Comet comments as Alan heads up to the top rope and looks out over the crowd, leaving Toxxic on his back on the canvas six feet below. “ENCORE! ENCORE!” Alan begins screaming, almost chanting out from the top rope, and soon a few in the front rows catch on, and soon more and more, as by the time Alan turns back to face the ring, the entire building is chanting “ENCORE!” over and over. Alan takes his cue, and with a small courtesy bow, he leaps from the top rope and somersaults forward… …Spinning his body a full one…. …And one quarter turns… …Crashing down on top of Toxxic with a picturesque 450 Splash! “THE ENCORE! Alan Clark called it out loud and he delivered, putting his own body on the line and driving himself down into Toxxic!” Comet explodes as Alan hooks Toxxic’s leg and Soapdish drops down for the count… ONE! TWO! THREEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! *DING DING DING* “Alan Clark wins!” Comet exclaims as “Wanted Dead or Alive” starts up and the crowd explodes in cheers and Clark rolls off of Toxxic and gets to his feet. “Ladies and Gentlemen…the winner of this match by pinfall and the NUMBER ONE CONTENDER FOR THE CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP…. ALAN CLLLLLLAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRKKKKKKKKK~!” Funyon’s voice booms throughout the arena as Alan helps Toxxic up to his feet and shakes his hand in respect, causing even more cheers from the crowd. “Alan Clark is really showing the kind of person he is here tonight…” Comet comments as Alan smiles a bit toward Toxxic and heads for the lockerroom, looking back toward the ring as Toxxic raises his hand in acknowledgement of the crowds cheers. “Toxxic took Clark down to the wire, and for that he deserves this crowd’s – and everyone watching at home’s – respect. Not many people can do to Alan Clark what Toxxic did in this opening match! I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of him in the future!” Comet continues as Toxxic heads out of the ring as well, high-fiving a few fans as he makes his way backstage. “Enough of this! Up next we have Mike Van Siclen taking on Jacob Helmsley…and Sacred is going to make Spike Jenkins CRY! HAHAHAHA” Riley’s obnoxious laugh is heard over the cheering crowd as SWF Lockdown heads to its first commercial break, fading to black and then to a special advertisement for everyone’s favorite – Frost Brand Cereal. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 Backstage on Lockdown, Alan Clark is found walking the halls. Despite being rather exhausted from his encounter with Toxxic, he hums loudly as he skips down the hall, his airy mood obvious for all to see. He taps the wall with his right hand as he nears an intersection in the corridors, while his humming gets louder. He turns the corner… WHAM!! …AND IS FLOORED BY A GIGANTIC SPEAR!!! (Comet) – OH MY GOD!!! SOMEONE JUST SPEARED ALAN CLARK RIGHT OUT OF HIS BOOTS!! (Riley) – JESUS CHRIST!! Clark goes flying backwards and smacks his head against the wall where he was just tapping his hand. The camera zooms out and reveals HVT standing over a crumpled and grimacing Alan Clark. HVT reaches in his pocket and pulls out an index card, after which he tosses the index card on Clark’s battered body. (Comet) – THUGG!! I should’ve known! That son of a… (Riley) – Careful Comet! He might hear you and then come after us! (Comet) – Someone has to stop Thugg! He’s a monster…and I heard he did this to other people before the CF. This is ridiculous! HVT backs away from Clark’s destroyed body, and he can be heard laughing as the he backs out of the camera’s view. The camera then zooms in on the index card lying on Clark’s body… Welcome to the SWF. You are officially my bitch. HVT (Comet) – THAT SON OF A… Fade to commercial. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 MVS v. Helmsley - 2xNo Show. Thank you... come again... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 As we come back from the commercial break we are thrusted straight into the next match without warning! The lights dim down, while a multitude of light blue lights begin flashing from the entrance stage, as "Not Today" by Hotwire starts up. After a few seconds, "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins walks out from the backstage area and stops at the entrance ramp, the hood of his jacket covering his head, while he stares at the ground, allowing the crowd time to cheer. White pyro explodes from both sides of Spike, as Spike starts hopping around, getting warmed up. Standing in the centre of the squared circle, Funyon cries, “The following match is a TRIPLE IMPACT MATCH!” The crowd cheers, although they don’t even know what the match is. “To win, a participant must hit an SWF allocated move THREE times on his opponent to score the victory!” “AHHH!” the fans say, cheering once more before Funyon continues. “Introducing first, from Hollywood, California. Standing six foot one and weighing in at two hundred and twenty five pounds, he is… “HOLLYWOOD” SPIIIIIKKKKIKE JENKINNNSSSSSSSS!” The fans let out an almighty cheer as Jenkins smiles, holding his arms out by himself, then gesturing to his waist and a title that may very well be there once this night is done… Comet nods his head; glad to see Jenkins in an SWF arena, fighting for gold no less. “Welcome back folks to SWF Lockdown, and already were into our third match of the evening, pitting Spike Jenkins against Sacred for the USJL Championship! This title means a lot to both men, and I’m, expecting this will be a hotly fought contest!” “I WANNA RUN AWAY, AND NEVER SAY GOODBYE! I WANNA KNOW THE TRUTH, INSTEAD OF WONDERING WHY!” “Robert, what did I tell you about listening to Linkin Park? They’ll be no teen angst in the SWF, thank you very much!” “It’s infectious, god damn it. Anyway, I agree, this should be a great match, with no height advantage to be seen, and a slight weight advantage to Spike Jenkins, but I very much doubt it will matter through the course of this match.” Jenkins smiles once more, knowing the fans love him, but never tiring of hearing them cheer for him. The love is suddenly broken as The television pictures begins to flutter, becoming fuzzy, and this continues while Andrew Blackwell’s voice is heard… "There is nothing wrong with your television set.“ “Do not attempt to adjust the picture." “I will control the horizontal.” “I will control the vertical.” “I am controlling transmission." ... The picture returns too normal shortly after. Before Andrew Blackwell makes his entrance, the lights recede, not into complete darkness, but very near to, as Tainted by Lycia begins to play, very softly, at the same time. “And here he is…” Comet grimly notes. “The over three year veteran of the SWF, out to face another Junior League star trying to reach the top of this little game of ours.” “But they’ll never get there while Sacred’s on watch. He’s already defeated Landon Maddix, another former Junior League Champion, and he’ll do it again with no trouble at all.” “Lets hope your eating those words at the end of the night Bobert, because Jenkins is on a high after challenging none other than the Hville Thugg to a one on one contest! And if he wins here tonight, he’ll be in a prime position to topple the tower of toolishness!” Spotlights situated to the side of the ramp way, all along the side turn on Blackwell and follow him as he walks slowly before reaching the ringside area. On the mic once again, Funyon announces in his booming voice, “And… HIS OPPONENT!” Before his name is even read out, the fans cry foul and begin to jeer the Australian Champion! Sacred just shakes his head, full on confidence as he climbs the ring steps and enters the ring, looking at Jenkins and just smirking. “… Form Adelaide, Australia. Standing six foot once, and weighing in at two hundred and sixteen pounds… he is the S W F United States Junior League Champion… he is… SAAAACCCRRREEEDDDDD!” The boos and jeers strike up again and flood the Mellon Arena as a ringside attendant hands Funyon a card. Both Spike Jenkins and Andrew Blackwell look on impatiently, wanting to get underway. They groan as Funyon fumbles with the card as he tries to get it open, but with this task complete, he finally reads out… “To win this match, a competitor must hit a move three times during the course of this match, and that move is… ROLL THE JOINT!” “OH MY!” Comet cries. “Have I got this correct? To win this match, either Sacred or Jenkins must hit SPIKE’S signature move!? This match just got a WHOLE lot more interesting!” “WHAT!? No! This can’t be! This is a damn conspiracy! The SWF want Sacred to lose, I just know it I can’t believe this!” While Riley disputes in vain, the crowd are happy, already beginning to chant Spike’s name as Sacred storms over and reads the card himself. He growls as he throws the card on the canvas and grabs Funyon by the collar, threatening him with violence. Funyon reiterates he didn’t make the decision, and Sacred releases him, knowing that too well, but too outraged to care at the moment… “A conspiracy or not, this match is about to get underway, with SPIKE now the firm favourite! Sacred is going to have a lot of work in front of him if he wants to win this one!” As Comet finishes his last sentence, the bell rings! DING! DING! DING! With the ringing of the bell, the contest begins, and begins with a flurry! Spike Jenkins, bolstered by the news that tipped the scales well in his favour, darts forward, trying to knock down his opponent with a clothesline. Sacred acts quickly, soon putting the ‘unfair’ decision out of his mind and focusing on his job, as he ducks underneath the wild blow and twirls around Jenkins. He takes Jenkins’ arm on the way through and pins it at Spike’s back. The Australian, bitter and downright angry at the choice of match, tries to surprise his younger opponent by reaching underneath him and lifting him into the air, looking for a back drop Suplex! Jenkins is on the ball tonight it seems as he flips out in mid-move, landing back on his feet behind Blackwell! Regaining his footing rather quickly, Spike immediately slaps on an elementary side headlock. The move gets zero respect form Sacred as Jenkins is literally thrown into the ropes by the outraged Aussie. Jenkins hits the strands and bounces back, as Sacred falls to the mat face first, forcing Spike to hop over the top of him and hit the opposite ropes. Jenkins returns, and is again forced to detour as he ducks underneath Sacred who leapfrogs over the top of him. On the final pass, The Australian rolls onto his back, digging his boots into Spike’s chest and sending him flying across the ring with a Monkey Flip! “Uh oh, Citizen Jenkins looks like he’s going to land awfully awkwardly, this looks… But wait! Young Spike lands back on his feet!” cries a stunned and impressed Cyclone Comet. “This may be an important title match, and against a man in the Hall of Fame, but Jenkins isn’t letting that bother him one single iota!” Riley grumbles in reply, “that wouldn’t be the case if the stipulation of the match didn’t favor HIM! This ‘Roll the Joint’, which is rather crudely named by the way, is one of Spike Jenkins signature moves! He practices those signature moves, as does every else, under he knows how to counter, and how to hit if for greatest effect!” “That may be the case, Robert, but if Sacred is worth his salt at all, he’ll put his ‘displeasure’ behind him and figure out a way to get a stranglehold on his match!” Wasting no time as he balances himself skillfully, Jenkins spins around and fires off a Superkick towards his Australian foe! At the last possible second however, Sacred catches his foot just inches away from his face! Using this situation to his advantage, Spike Blackwell’s firm grip as a platform to shoot off, spin around and hit sacred in the back of the head with an Enziguri! But is Citizen Sacred worth his salt at all!?” asks an ecstatic Comet. “He seems so sluggish out there, and Jenkins is taking full advantage of that!” “It’s still only early days yet, Cyclone! Spike is full of confidence right now, but reality will soon strike, just you wait and see!” “Are you certain of that, Robert? Jenkins is finally, FINALLY up in the WF, and is showing his true potential… finally. Imagine, if he wins the USJL title tonight, how much that will boost him as he goes into a match with Thugg next week! The future is bright for Hollywood, that’s for sure!” The Sacred One stumbles forward, bouncing off the ropes in front of him and heading back to Jenkins, not under his own power of course. Jenkins stays on the mat, simply waiting for Blackwell to return, before taking him down with a drop toe hold. With that, Spike quickly scrambles over and slaps Sacred across the head repeatedly, before leaping to his feet and hoping away! The crowd pops hugely for Spike’s cocky and disrespecting attitude, but Sacred doesn’t like it one bit. The Australian climbs back to his feet, reassessing the situation while Spike grins and soaks up the crowd response. “That’s just an example of how Citizen Jenkins is brimming with confidence!” Cyclone yells as he smugly smiles, watching Sacred shake his head and take his frustrations out of the ring ropes. “He’s trying to get under the Australian’s skin, and it’s working like a charm!” “Bah!” comes Riley’s quick and decisive response. “He’ll regret that, oh yes he will. He had a god thing going, I agree, but when Sacred is already feeling on edge, it’s not wise to tip him over, or bad things will be on the horizon…” Jenkins strikes while the iron is still hot, as he brings Sacred to the mat with a Judo take down from around the neck, propping him up in a sitting position. He quickly springs to his feet and backs into the ropes, diving back towards the Australian and nailing him in the back of the head with a dropkick! The Australian is in full retreat as he crawls into the safety of the corner, but Jenkins follows him like a vulture, firing off some of those trademark kicks into Blackwell’s chest as he tries in vain to get to his feet. Spike gives him a little aid as he props him up in the corner, before unleashing Junior Leaguer rage on Sacred… “CRACK!” … As he fires off a devastating knife-edge chop that echoes throughout the arena! “CRACK!” And another! The crowd responds in kind with their trademark “WHOO!” and an ever so slight “Jenkins! Jenkins” chant strikes up! “CRACK!” “Even I have to give Jenkins his props here,” comments Riley as he cringes at the ferocity of Spike’s blows. “Those chops look nasty, and Blackwell looks like he’s wavering already…” Riley’s prediction may well be right as Spike sends Sacred flying across the ring and into the opposite turnbuckles so hard that he falls to the mat trying to put more force behind the Irish Whip! It pays off well and truly as Sacred slams into the turnbuckles and comes bouncing back, his neck thrown back by the violent collision. Spike, steps forward and pounces eagerly, taking Sacred by the hand and pulling him in with a whip, straight into a rising knee lift! With the Australian doubled over, Spike heads behind his opponent and takes him in a reverse face lock, before spinning around in one, fluid motion… … “He did it! Spike Hits the Testdrive! The Roll the Dice! The Roll the Joint! Whatever the heck you want to call it, Citizen Spike has just made the score one to zero! What an upset!” “Settle down! There’s a long way to go yet, how many time do I have to tell you that!?” answers Riley in an uproar. “Spike gets an early lead, but Sacred won’t let him get too far ahead, just you see…” “I think your faith in Citizen Blackwell is blinding your judgment, Bobbo my friend. His past doesn’t matter at this moment in time, because right now, Spike is showing is full potential, and pegging Sacred back a notch or two!” Comet proclaims happily. The crowd literally explodes as the score in the bottom corner of the screen now reads, “1 – 0!” Jenkins springs back to his feet; bathing in the fans adulation while Sacred shakes out the cobwebs, not believing what just happened. Raising his arms, Spike smiles widely as he points down at Sacred, who is struggling to get to his feet. As Jenkins turns around, finished having the fans stroke his ego, he bends down to lift Blackwell to his feet… But the wily veteran has other plans as he grabs onto the referee’s shirt collar and pushes him away, before… “A low blow! Sacred steeps to a new low, hitting Jenkins with a low blow in desperation!” Cyclone cries, pointing into the ring. “I know it, you know it, the fans know it; Jenkins has Sacred up against the ropes, and Citizen Sacred knows it too well, which is why he pulls out an illegal maneuver to even the score!” Riley chuckles as he watches Jenkins fall to his knees, “put a cork in it, Comet! It’s a valid tactic which buys Sacred some time, I don’t see what’s so wrong with it! If Jenkins is worth HIS salt, he wouldn’t let Blackwell take control here!” The referee turns back around, finding Blackwell and Jenkins both on their knees, both feeling worse for wear, but only one grabbing his nether regions. He hears the fans boo loudly in outrage, but since he didn’t see anything, he can’t do anything! Jenkins looks up at the referee in vain, but the ref reminds him that there are no disqualifications. Blackwell, who is still feeling the effects of the last move, soon lifts spike to his feet. The Australian gets a measure of revenge as he lets fly with a flurry of stiff forearms to the forehead, before sending Spike into the ropes with an Irish Whip. As Jenkins returns, Blackwell lifts him into the air and spins him around in a tilt-a-whirl! “Wheeeeeeeeeee!” Riley gleefully cheers. “What the heck was that?” “I don’t know; it looks like fun.” Sacred hopes to end the ‘fun’ ride with a backbreaker, but Jenkins slips form Sacred’s grasp and lands back on his feet! Jenkins attempts to surprise Blackwell and take him off of his feet with an STO! However, the Australian digs in and holds on, blocking the move as he spins around on a dime, trying to take Spike down with a Russian Leg Sweep. Jenkins blocks THAT, much the crowd’s delight, before rolling through and taking Blackwell to the mat with a leg lock! Knowing he won’t achieve anything with that move, Jenkins soon gets off the mat before Blackwell can counter, taking the Australian underneath both of his legs and setting himself, before falling onto his back, and letting the Australian catapult into the air, hitting the top turnbuckle face first! “Despite the dastardly and devious trickery of the sneaky convict, Spike has the upper hand once again! This is a title winning performance from Jenkins here…” Comet suddenly stops and looks into the ring, pointing and shouting, “and he’s ready for another! He’s going to hit another!” “NO! DAMNIT! How could he let this chump get in front so easily!?” Riley asks in vain, looking on helplessly as… As… Spike again puts on a reverse face lock, twirls around and slams Sacred face first with ANOTHER roll the joint! As Sacred hits the mat, the crowd goes absolutely wild, chanting… “JEN – KINS!” “JEN – KINS!” “JEN – KINS!” “I’m surprised two-fold. One, for Jenkins brilliant performance here so far, and two, for the crowd’s amazing reaction! They love to see a newly bumped Junior Leaguer take it to the established stars, and that’s what’s happening right here!” With the score now 2 – 0, Jenkins wastes no further time in lifting Blackwell to his feet. The crowd suddenly rises from their seats as Jenkins looks to bury Blackwell with another Roll! “He’s gonna do it! Jenkins is gonna be the new USJL champion in a matter of seconds!” Comet’s cries are a little too premature as Blackwell blocks the move! He walks like a crab, putting his foot on the second rope, then on the top rope, before springing back and landing on top of Hollywood. Sacred rolls back onto his feet in the same motion, and before Jenkins can recover from the counter; he starts to lay the boots into him! He angrily stomps on his opponent’s neck as the referee tries to interfere but gets a cold stare from Sacred, eyes filled with blood lust. Dropping his knee into Spike’s spine, Blackwell keeps it there as he intertwines Jenkins’ legs and grabs a hold of them. With his free arm, he takes Spike around the neck and slowly rolls onto his back, suspending Hollywood in the air with a Bow and Arrow Backbreaker! “Brilliant!” cries Riley. “Sacred only JUST survived that third Neckbreaker, and knew he had to slow things down. What’s more, this particular move works the neck and spine, stretching each in a position of torture!” “It was a smart move from Citizen Sacred, I don’t doubt that, but if he doesn’t watch his ring position…” Just as Cyclone is about to finish, Jenkins strains himself, reaching forward valiantly with a free arm… … And he reaches the ropes! The crowd cheers as Spike looks at the referee, wincing through the pain, but the referee just shrugs his shoulders. “HAH! Citizen Sacred’s is no evil genius after all! Spike broke the submission by grabbing hold of the rope!” “HA HAH!” Riley rebuts. “There’s no rope breaks in this match, chump! Sacred may have been at the mercy of Spike’s shock and awe campaign early on, but he still has a clear mind, and great ring presence!” Continuing to stretch Spike out like a piece of putty, Sacred keeps a determined look on his face as pain shoots down Spike’s spine. The Australian gives Hollywood a few more torque’s before letting go of his legs, and letting Spike slam face first on the mat! The crowd sighs as Blackwell looks to take control, trying to hook Spike’s arms in a double Chickenwing! “Cattle Mutilation! He’s looking for his submission finisher!” shouts Riley, jumping out of his seat. “The tap out may not count, but Spike’s neck will be torn to pieces!” As Blackwell looks to lock the move in fully, springing over the top of Jenkins with a bridge, Spike suddenly slips free and unhooks his arms! The two men instantaneously climb to their feet, not stopping to chat as they slug it out, Blackwell striking with those trademark forearms as Spike’s retaliates with those vicious chops of his! Spike wins the day as he sends Sacred into the ropes with an Irish Whip, but Blackwell reverses it! Spike hits the strands and is propelled back against his will, as Blackwell lifts him up for another Tilt-a-Whirl, but this time, he cuts it well short as he drops Spike face first down on his knee! Hollywood’s head shoots back from the blow, but he’s still standing, albeit in a very stunned state. Sacred uses this momentary lapse to grab him by the waistline and lift him into the air for a vertical suplex. Sacred lets Jenkins drop onto his feet behind him, ready for a “Hangman’s Noose” Neckbreaker… … But Sacred suddenly spins around, locking on a reverse face lock and spinning around, nailing Jenkins with a neck breaker Roll the Dice! “NO!” Comet shouts with utter disappointment. “The devious Citizen Sacred has pegged one back! The score is now two to one, but Spike Jenkins still leads!” “You hold onto that slight glimmer of hope, Cyclone, but any man and his dog can see what Blackwell is doing! With everything he does, every move he makes, he is targeting that neck, and… wait, what’s he doing?” Not resting on his laurels, Blackwell keeps his hold of Spike’s neck, lifting him back to his feet in a front face lock position. Sacred looks around, shooting a devilish smile, towards the crowd, making sure Jenkins sees every little move he makes, before swinging his leg back! “CRUEL FATE! He’s looking to bury poor Citizen Jenkins with the Cruel Fate!” But Jenkins knows what’s coming and sprints forward, ramming Sacred into the turnbuckles! Hollywood can’t capitalize as he stumbles back, holding his neck after hitting the turnbuckles hard to shuck Sacred away. This is the opening Sacred was looking for as he steps forward, takes Jenkins by the left arm and twirls it around his head, before taking him by the neck and ripping him to the ground with the KNIFEY SPOONY! “Oh my! I haven’t seen that move since many moons ago!” Comet notes, reliving the past. “And I hate to say it, but that was perfectly planned by the Sacred One!” Blackwell slowly walks over, stalking his opponent as he tries to crawl away, but Sacred grabs him by the air and drags him to his feet. Sacred, in a rather nonchalant fashion, locks on a reverse face lock, as the fans rise up and boo the hell out of him! Sacred just grins and shakes his head, ready to drop Jenkins once again… … But Jenkins REVERSES! Hollywood spins around in a split second maneuver and grabs Sacred around the waist, lifting him over his head and taking him down with a Northern Lights Suplex! Before Jenkins can do anything else however, Blackwell shoots himself off the mat, bringing Jenkins up with him, still locked together. Sacred pivots around, takes Spike around the neck and spins around, planting him with the ROLL THE JOINT! “He did it! Despite Jenkins’ best efforts, he couldn’t stop progress as Blackwell takes him down to even the score!” Riley reports happily. “Oh no, this can’t be good…” Comet predicts regretfully. “Just as Jenkins’ was feeling confident, feeling he could take this, Blackwell takes advantage of the situation like the ruffian, like the convict he is!” “One day a horde of angry Australians are going to tie you up, Cyclone. And anyway, he’s perfectly within his rights to do anything in this match! That low blow was a BRILLIANT tactical maneuver, and besides, the powers that be tried to weigh the odds firmly against him, but he’s found a way to break that glass ceiling once again.” The crowd suddenly deflate as they seen Jenkins bounce off the mat, lying motionless with Blackwell sitting next to him, a sick expression written across his face. The Australian lifts Hollywood to his feet, toying with him as he simply throws him into the corner and slamming his head against the top turnbuckle pad. With the score reading “2 – 2” in the bottom left hand corner of the screen, Sacred looks to finish this right now, lifting Jenkins up onto the top turnbuckle. Blackwell soon joins him, trying to throw his arm over his shoulder and grab him by the waistline, ready for a massive Superplex! “This would surely spell doom for young Jenkins. Buck up kid, you gave it a go, but it wasn’t to b- WHAT!?” Riley’s smirking, condescending condolences are suddenly cut short as Jenkins rears back and… “CRACK!” … Hits a knife-edge chop across Sacred’s throat!” “CRACK!” “HEY! He can’t do that! He can’t damn it!” Comet quiets his partner quickly, “oh you know he can! Andrew and his brother Christian are well-known for using these illegal but powerful chops to the throat, and Jenkins is only evening the score!” The chops are so hard that Blackwell is thrown clear from the turnbuckles! He lands back on his feet, but Spike climbs to his feet post haste and leaps off the top turnbuckle, coming crashing down with an Enziguri to the back of Sacred’s head! “YES!” comet cries. “Citizen Spike’s not out of it yet! Not by a long shot!” Blackwell crashes to the mat unceremoniously as the crowd pops like crazy. Spike climbs to his feet, his early confidence and bravado now replaced by a thirst for revenge as he looks down at the hall of famer and frowns. Hollywood lifts his fallen victim to his feet and shoves him between his legs! Locking on a double underhook, Spike preps himself, this time; he ignores the fans as they rise to their feet, cheering wildly. This time he lifts Blackwell off of the mat ready for the… “RECKONING!” Both announcers cry in unison, on the edge of their seat. Spike holds Sacred in mid-air, but loses control of his opponent as Blackwell tightens his noose around Spike’s neck, clamping his ankles together to gain a firm hold. Then, he slips his arms away and pulls himself up onto Spike’s shoulders! The crowd gasp as Blackwell escapes Spike’s finisher and Hollywood grabs the Aussie and throws him off his shoulders. Sacred flips through the air and lands back on two feet, rather awkwardly. Spike takes advantage of this, grabbing Blackwell’s neck and twisting round, trying to nail him with a Diamond Cutter! “If he hits this…” Comet anxiously comments, “He could have this! Blackwell lost his footing for a second, and that may be all Jenkins needs!” As Spike begins to run forward, so close to hitting the Bad Beat, Blackwell reaches up and clamps down on his neck, wrenching it back violently. Sacred suddenly pulls Spike back down in a reverse face lock …Spins around… … DING! DING! DING! “That’s it!” Riley cries in orgasmic fashion. “Sacred has pulled it off!” “By the skin of his teeth, mind you!” Comet quickly responds. “Jenkins had him on the ropes so many times in that match, but Blackwell’s ring general reputation sure made itself shown here tonight, and his bitterness towards the top brass showed through too!” “Damn right! They thought the scales were tipped in Spike’s favour, but Sacred proved them wrong!” As Sacred rolls out of the ring, in no mood to celebrate whatsoever, Funyon gets on the mic and announces… “The winner of this match and… STILL! The S W F United States Junior League Champion… SAAAAACRRRREEEEDDD!” The referee rolls out of the ring as well, handing Blackwell his title as he bolts up the ramp way, still shaking his head and still angry. “Sacred may have escaped with his title, but Jenkins pushed him to the limit, more than Sacred may have liked…” Comet summarizes. “Hats off to Citizen Hollywood who showed his true colors and fought magnificently!” “I have to admit, he fought hard, and fought well, and I can’t discount him against Thugg next week, no siree…” Lockdown fades out as we see Sacred point to the camera and mouth something indecipherable, before getting the hell out of dodge, the USJL title over his shoulder… Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 Funyon stands in the center of the Mellon Arena in the lovely town of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania as the crowd amassed around the ring thrill at the sight of actual athletic competition. After all, they obviously aren’t getting it from the any of their sports franchises. Calling into his microphone, Funyon roars into his microphone, “This next contest is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first…” The lights of the arena drops down to nil as the sounds of AC/DC’s ‘Shoot to Thrill’ begins to pump through the crowd. Knowing just whom that song heralds to the ring, the crowd’s mood immediately down sifts to that of almost righteous anger as a light shines brightly down from the rafters. Illuminating the smiling relief of Todd Royal on the SmarkTron, the light heralds the entrance of one of the newest members of the SWF. And as tiny flames start to dance about the entranceway, they introduce the forms of Todd Royal and Megan Skye. Smiling brightly to the crowd, the couple works their way to the ring as Funyon continues to call out his introduction duties. “Accompanied to the ring by Megan Skye, he hails from San Diego, California and weighs in tonight at 220 pounds. He is a member of The Unnamed, he is the wrath of Todd ROYALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!” Stepping into the ring, Todd allows Megan to remove his sunglasses and leather vest as he mentally prepares to get his hands on the next man to come to the ring. But there is no fear in the eyes of Todd Royal as he knows just how much this match means to not only himself but to The Unnamed as well. Becoming more and more dominant, the group requires wins from even its freshest meat, and that means Todd Royal must succeed. And if anything can be said about the man, it is that he loves pressure. Besides the goof he is about to wrestle won’t be all that dangerous anyway. He is just a redneck after all. “And his opponent…” No longer being announced to the ring by generic banjo music, Coy is now brought to the ring by the country styling of Sara Evans. Bounding out of the entranceway with a load of energy, Coy bounces from one leg to the other as the crowd listens to his new music for the first time. Baby every little piece of the puzzle doesn't always fit perfectly, love can be rough around the edges and tattered down the seams, Honey if it's good enough for you it's good enough for me Oh your good enough for me, Yeah your good enough for me, Oh your good enough for me Sliding underneath the bottom rope, Coy very nearly leaps to his feet in preparation to for the battle to come. Being the God-fearing man that he is, Coy obviously is ready to take the measure of the man that seems to think himself divine. Cranking his neck one way and then the other, Coy rings his rangy body out in order to get ready for the battle to come. “Weighing in tonight at 240 pounds and hailing from the S. S. General Lee Jr., he is ‘The Coyote’ COY WESSSSSSSSSST!” Raising an arm to the air, Coy receives a well-meaning response for the crowd despite the fact that he has yet to really make his mark in the SWF as of yet. But in a battle against the Unnamed, just about anyone is going to get a good round of cheers. They will have to wait and see if Coy West really can carry the ball against the already impressive Todd Royal. DING! DING! Virtually strutting into the middle of the ring, Todd Royal smiles brightly at the referee and Coy as the fan favorite shakes the hand of the official. Shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the sign of politeness, Todd wanders up to both men and gives Coy a shove backward a few steps. Putting both his arms out to one side and cocking his own chin, Royal provides an excellent target for the rangy Coyote. Shrugging his shoulders, Coy looks at the chin with the look of someone who would like nothing better than to knock that smug smirk right off his opponent’s face. And so Coy does just that as he kicks Royal square in the breadbasket! “HA!” laughs The Cyclone Comet as Coy grabs Todd by the wrist and flicks him across the ring with an Irish whip, “Todd Royal was trying to sucked Coy into taking a shot at his head, but the Coyote brought the attack in another direction.” Racing across the ring right after the smaller Royal, Coy West crushes him against the corner with a clothesline into the corner. Knocked off his feet by the impact, Todd still has no where to go and ends up out on his feet for a moment before Coy jerks him off the canvas once more around the waist before jamming him downward with a harsh reverse atomic drop. Shattered by the impact, Royal ends up virtually hopping in the middle of the ring before he tumbles backward towards the ropes. Running into Todd once again, Coy runs him out the ring entirely with a huge clothesline that knocks Royal right over the top rope and to the arena floor! Hopping on his feet from the adrenaline of it all, Coy lets loose with a crackling battle cry as Megan Skye almost immediately finds her way over to her charge to check on his condition. “Bah, just because that inbred sack of crap managed to hit some moves on Royal doesn’t make him this year’s answer to Judas. Royal will regroup in no time and start this match over.” Up to his feet, Royal does indeed to be not all that worse for wear as Megan rubs his shoulders in an effort to get her man back into fair territory. But as Royal gets his wits about him again, he finds that only anger drives him for the moment. Turning his back to the ring, Royal grabs a hold of the guardrail and starts to shake it as though he is trying to break the whole thing apart. Shoving the barricade away, Royal points inside the ring at Coy and immediately starts to question just how that no class bastard would dare do something like that to the Hand of Todd. Slowly sliding back into the ring, Todd points right at Coy once again and starts to visibly shake with quite a bit of rage. Charging into his opponent, Todd tries to tackle West to the canvas only to have West drop out of sight and bring Royal to the canvas with a drop toehold. Floating over the top almost in a second, Coy controls Todd with an armbar as Royal gives himself a minor slap in the face in order to get his head together. Climbing up to a vertical base with Coy still attached, Royal looks for a means of escape only to find Coy winding up the shoulder once again and giving it a quick pull to once again drop Royal down to the canvas. “Come on TODD!” shrieks Megan from her spot on the floor. “GET UP!” Cyclone Comet replies, “She’s about as pleasant as red kryptonite. I’ve seen more pleasant piranhas with tooth aches.” Continuing to apply pressure with the armbar, Coy works over Royal’s shoulder as Megan continues to rant and rave from the floor. Putting his hand underneath Coy’s chin, Todd manages to push his way back up to a vertical base as Coy struggles to keep him down on the canvas. Finally back up on his feet, Todd finally jams a short knee into the breadbasket of his foe in order to free his left arm. Letting loose a right forearm across the side of the head, Todd regains a further bit of room as Coy is knocked down to the canvas. Popping into the ropes, Todd comes back at West and sends an elbow drop headed right at his foe’s sternum. BOOM! But Coy rolls right out from under the blow and leaves the canvas below so that Royal jams his own elbow in it. Up on his feet immediately, Royal clutches at the joint once again until Coy pulls him over and to the canvas with an arm drag takeover. Cinching in the armbar again, Coy West continues to control the pace of the contest with some surprisingly solid, yet simple offense. “West is surprisingly enough dominating this contest with his wrestling knowledge and ability,” reports The Cyclone Comet. “I don’t think anyone expected that and I am incredibly sure that Todd Royal did not see it coming either.” Rolling about with his back against the canvas, Royal uses his legs to roll his way up to his seat as Coy continues to control the left arm and wrench away. But coy does not seemingly have the ability on keep Royal down on the canvas for long before Todd manages to once again find his way up to his feet. Doggedly holding onto Royal’s left arm though, Coy is determined to hold on tight as Todd turns into him and takes a knee in the center of the ring. But Royal does not stay on the canvas for long as he uses his free right arm to gain a hoist position around West’s waist. Immediately exploding off his knee, Royal jerks the 240-pounder up into the air before crushing him against the canvas with the main event spinebuster! Immediately shocking his way free of the assault on his arm, Todd gets to his feet and begins to rub his shoulder in order to get the feeling back as Coy stays down on the mat, obviously suffering from the trauma of the spinebuster. Wandering about the ring for a few moments while trying to get his arm back into fighting shape, Royal watches on carefully as Coy struggles up to his knees. Finally seeing the opening he is looking for, Royal charges ahead and uses Coy’s own knee to propel him into range for… BOOOOOOOOOOOOM! “SHININGGGGGGGGGGGG WIZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARD!” Coy goes flailing to one side in a dump stunned from the shock of having Royal’s knee jammed strait into the side of his face. Rising up immediately though with a huge smile on his face, Royal gives the fans a little come on motion as if to show everyone that the first part of the match was just some plan to give West a false sense of security. “I told you that Todd Royal would answer our prayers,” laughs Bobby Riley as Coy manages to pull himself to the ropes as Todd continues to prance about the ring. “That Todd-less hick son of his own grandpa better just stay the hell down or he’s going to end up having plagues. Well even worse plagues than having to live in a trailer.” Finally moving back in on his adversary, Todd Royal places his boot against the head of his foe and almost nudges Coy to make sure the ‘Coyote’ still knows that Todd is still around. Pulling Coy off his feet, Todd almost casually shoves him into a corner and drives a hard forearm into the side of Coy’s already splattered brain house. Chucking another into Coy’s gourd, Todd succeeds in knocking West back into the turnbuckles where Coy falls flat down on his ass in the corner. Grinning from ear-to-ear, Todd almost casually puts his foot in the maw of the rampaging redneck and savagely scrapes the sole of the boot across Coy’s features. Shouting from the pain of it all, Coy attempts to cover up as Todd easily and ruthlessly does it one more time much to the delight of the woman in his corner, Megan Skye. Blowing a kiss out to the obviously disgruntled crowd, Todd runs across the ring and into the ropes only to come crashing down across Coy’s face once again with a boot scrape that just might have made Coy pretty it distorted his features so badly. Grabbing the turned Coy out of the turnbuckles by the jeans, the young member of the Nameless pulls West backward into the center of the ring. Grabbing the stunned Coy by the left hand, Todd mocks the entire arena by using that arm to wave goodbye to all the good people of Pittsburgh who have had just amount enough of this tomfoolery. But Todd is not done just yet as he snags Coy around the waist from behind before jerking up into position for a backdrop suplex. But as he holds Coy up there, Royal makes a decision to make Coy’s return trip to the earth a bit less pleasant. Shifting his grip, Todd rams Coy into the canvas and into a picture perfect Blue Thunder powerbomb! THOOOOOOOOOOOM! Sliding into position, the referee counts against the canvas! ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEENOOOOAREYOUKIDDINGME! Kicking loose with his remaining reserves of energy, West manages to knock his way free of Todd’s pinning combination with a failing boot to the top of the head. Releasing the hold, Todd moves to one side as Coy put a hand on his back to signify the recent effects of the powerbomb and the spinebuster that began Royal’s rally. But West has extremely a small amount of time to deal with that pain before Todd is right back on his to add a great deal more to the table. Pulling Coy back up to his feet by the hair, Todd leans into West with another hard forearm tot he side of the head. BAM! BOOM! But Coy fights right back with a loping roundhouse to the jaw! Not giving in to the trailer trash though, Todd hammers right back with another forearm. BAM! BOOM! BAM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Getting the better of the exchange, Coy begins to batter Todd back on his heels with some good old-fashioned knuckles to the face. Trying to stem the tide though, Todd launches a kick right at the breadbasket of his filthy foe only to have Coy catch the leg in mid sweep! Holding it up at an uncomfortable angle, Coy smiles out to the crowd as he looks one way and then the other as the crowd simply begs West to kick Royal right in the jimmies. But as Coy is preening, Royal is planning and his plan comes to fruition in very short order! CRACK! “ENZIGURIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!” Catching West right behind the ear with a crescent moon kick, Royal sends the enemy of The Nameless flipping to the canvas in a stunned mess of humanity. Almost instantly grabbing West in a half nelson, Royal pushes him over into a second pinning combination as the referee is once again in perfect position to count the three. ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEENOTONMYWATCH! Looking at the referee and shaking his head in disgust, Todd stands right up in the middle of the ring and takes a second to work the last of the nagging pain in his left shoulder out of his system. Moving back in on Coy, Todd smashes him in the middle of the ribs with a hard punting kick that would make Danny Williams proud if he were not so damn bitter about life (just kidding Dan-O). Plucking the battered Coy off the canvas, Todd holds the battered redneck up strait before simply just knocking him back flat to the canvas with a hard punch to the jaw. Jumping about the ring with his hands above his head, Todd looks to the world like he just knocked George Foreman on his ass as the Pittsburgh crowd finally starts to let him have it. “Todd Damn YOU! Todd Damn YOU! Todd Damn YOU!” “You know, I’d be clever too if I spent all day in mills melting stuff,” rages Bobby Riley as the crowd continues to give the modern day Deity a bit of a tongue-lashing. Taking a bow in the middle of the ring in another gross display of crowd baiting, Todd breaks into a quick Ali shuffle before once again moving in on the seemingly exhausted Coy West. Blasting West across the top of the head with a boot, Todd once again leaves his foe lying on the canvas so that the Todd of the Ring can make his way over to the turnbuckles. Turning his back to the corner, Todd grabs a hold of the ropes behind them and uses them to propel his body up to the second rope. Motioning for Coy to get up to his feet, Todd looks on with a smile as West slowly pulls his body up. Leaping into the air and just the right moment, Royal comes crashing down on the top of his opponent’s head with a terrific double axe handle that once again sends the horrible hick tumbling to the canvas. Pushing the limp Coy over onto his back with the toe of his boot, Todd leans over his fallen adversary and uses his own fingers to count along with the referee towards winning this contest. ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THREENOYAHGOTTAHOOKALEG! Almost busting a gut over just how much fun he is having at the expense of Coy West, Todd Royal slowly gets off his foe before once again stomping down on him with another boot to the head. Wiping both his hands together, Todd once again moves over to the ropes and climbs up to the middle turnbuckle as West slowly begins to move up to his feet. Obviously sure of himself, Todd shrugs at the crowd with a 'what are you going to do' expression on his face before once again leaping into the air for another flying double axe handle. Whoops! WHAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM! Virtually cutting Royal off at the shoulders, Coy extends his arm and catches the incoming Todd around the neck with a hooking clothesline that crushes him against the canvas! Immediately hooking both of Todd’s legs and pulling them over his shoulders, Coy tries to steal a win as the referee counts while setting a furious pace. ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEENAHNAHJACKASS! Kicking out strongly at two, Royal manages to stay alive and roll Coy off his body. Wiping his brow from the pain of the clothesline, Todd is slow getting up to his feet which is fine at the moment considering that West is getting to his feet no faster due to the beating he has taken this match as well. In fact both men seem to take their time moving once again, so much in fact that the referee begins a ten count to see if either man will be able to continue. But as the count barely gets started, Todd Royal works his way up to his knees and signals to the official that he will be more than able to continue here against ‘The Coyote’. “Both of these two men are fighting with everything they have,” reports The Cyclone Comet. “You almost never know if you are going to have that little bit of extra gas to pull yourself up until you reach. These two men have that extra bit of drive. It’s going to come down in the end to who wants this thing more.” And that appears to be Todd Royal as he once again uses the flat of his boot to strike Coy in the face and knock him back down to the canvas. Checking out the kink in his neck for a moment, Todd gives his neck a bit of a kink to one side in order to clear up the pain he took from that clothesline. Slowly grabbing two hands full of mullet, Todd drags Coy up to his knees only to find him exploding up and into the member of The Unnamed with a hard punch to the midsection. Doubling over instantly, Todd tries to get his breath back only to have Coy once again batter his midsection with another hard right hand. Getting up fully to his feet, Coy presses Todd back into the ropes and sends him across the ring with a whip. But Todd uses his fine wrestling balance to reverse the whip and send Coy into the ropes instead. Tossing a clothesline right at Coy’s face proves to be less than effective though as the wild West ducks underneath the blow and quickly scoops the turning Royal onto his shoulders! Holding the struggling Todd up in a fireman’s carry, Coy looks out to the crowd before give a little wink to the camera before he starts to turn… And turn… And turn… Faster… And faster… AND FASTER! AND HE’S SPENT! Finishing the airplane spin, the seemingly completely unaffected Coy West simply sets Todd on his feet in the center of the ring. Putting his hands on his hips, Coy simply watches on in glee as Royal stumbles back and forth trying to recover some sense of balance. Laughing along with the Pittsburgh crowd, Coy finally puts Todd out of his misery by simply sweeping out one of Todd’s legs and dropping him to the canvas. Holding his head, Royal clearly is still completely in a state of vertigo as Coy holds onto the leg that he plucked and raises an arm into the air. Riley is quick to condemn, “Only that moron would still be using a freaking airplane spin in this day and age! Next thing you know, he’ll be using… my TODD! HE IS! A TODD DAMN SPINNING TOEHOLD?!?!?” Quickly rotating around the limb, Coy West suddenly jolts Todd away from feeling like he’s about to puke and towards the idea that an insane redneck is going to twist off his ankle. His form oddly enough perfect, Coy exerts the maximum amount of pressure with the hold while still keeping his body away from where Todd can effectively counter the age old submission. Quickly circling the leg again, Coy adds even more pressure to the hold as Todd continues to have a great deal of trouble not only dealing with the pain of the toehold but getting over the disorientation caused by the airplane spin. Suddenly realizing he’s in a great deal more trouble than he might have eve suspected, Todd puts another bit of strategy into play as he sends a hand signal out of the ring and to his lovely assistant, Megan Skye. Immediately seeing this, Megan hops right up to the apron and begins to complain as loudly as she can regarding the officiating of this match. “Get her down referee,” supplies Bobby Riley helpfully as he knows just as well as anyone else what a distraction looks like. Drawing the referee away does not however keep Coy from keeping the pressure on the ankle with the spinning toehold. But it does allow Todd Royal to use his other leg to put together a rather… shall we say unethical counter? DING! Shooting his left leg up into Coy’s groin proves to be just as effective as anyone might expect and instantly sends West tumbling to the canvas like a redwood. Pulling himself away from his dogged adversary as Megan Skye allows the referee’s attention to go back to the action, Todd pulls himself up onto one leg using the ropes to keep his feet. Shocked by the amount of damage that such an archaic move actually did to him, Todd hobbles his way behind West who is in the middle of the painstaking task of counting up his testes. Hobbling along behind Coy as the rampaging redneck rises up to his feet, Royal does some leg damage of his own as he simply dives into the back of Coy’s calf and takes him down with a chop block! “Oh HO!” laughs Bobby Riley, “We all know where this is going!” Dropping to the canvas in a heap while clutching his leg in agony, West soon finds himself drug out into the center of the ring as Todd Royal furiously yanks on the bruised knee and pulls it out strait. Callously dropping down on the limb with an elbow drop, Royal further damages the limb in preparation for his perfected figure four leglock. Not wasting anymore time in that regard, Todd immediately starts the preparation for the Wrath of Todd as he spins about the damaged limb… AND IS TAKEN DOWN WITH AN INSIDE CRADLE! ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEOHNOTTHATCLICHEENDING! Kicking his way free of the pinning combination, Todd explodes up to his feet and nails Coy across the side of the face with a hard forearm. Pulling the limping Coy up to his feet, the also bruised and battered Todd Royal forgoes going back to the knee and instead hooks West around the head with a front facelock before viscously whipping him over the top the mat with a snap suplex! “Todd Trilogy?” asks The Cyclone Comet as both men lie on the canvas a moment before Royal pops his hips off the canvas and turns the pile over before pulling Coy up for another suplex. “YES! If Todd stays true to form this will be a standard suplex and will be followed with a stalling version of the throw!” Getting to their feet together, Todd does indeed seem to have those steps in mind as he cinches up again and tests his ankle once again. Yanking Coy off the mat and into the air before crushing him against the canvas with a textbook example of a vertical suplex. But still not done, Royal once again pivots with his hips and pulls both himself and the wild West back up to their feet in preparation for the final installment of the Todd Trilogy! And so it goes as Coy is lifted up off his feet and high into the air as Todd holds his lanky foe high in the air and continues to hold him… a moment too long! Kicking with his feet as he stabilizes in the air, Coy manages to upset Todd’s balance and using the damage down on that ankle once again finds his feet firmly on terra firma. But Royal is not so lucky as Coy immediately hooks HIM up and reverses the suplex! SLINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG! SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOT! Pulling Todd into the air before dropping his legs on the top rope, West comes crashing backward to the mat and SLAMS Royal hard into the canvas with the slingshot suplex! Immediately floating over with the impact, Coy hooks everything he can with his arms and legs as Todd immediately struggles to get off the canvas before the… ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! “HE GOT HIM!” DING! DING! DING! “The winner of the match… ‘THE COYOTE’ COYYYYYYYYYYY WESSSSSSSSSSSSSST!” Immediately breaking his cover, Coy rolls out of the ring and starts to head down the aisle as Todd Royal simply sits up in the middle of the ring, shocked as this very strange turn of events. Holding three fingers up to the referee, Royal questions just what just happened as Coy smiles back at his foe with a yellow toothed smile of joy. Old dog has some tricks up his sleeves after all. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 A knock at the door of Grand Slam Mark Stevens’ office disturbs the heavy hitter as he takes a practice swing at a wadded up ball of paper. Grand Slam: Come in. James Matheson rushes in through the door carrying a piece of paper and his ever present briefcase. Matheson: MISTER STEVENS. It is my professional opinion that, vis a vis your making of the main event, YOU’RE OUT OF YOU MIND! My client Mr. Tu’ipolotu has, as you know, special need to prepare for a match due to his injury and therefore not allowing prior knowledge of his opponent is risking his own and injure, and in the case of the personal injury to my client, henceforth referred to AS the client, that the client would be forced to take action against the party of the third part, which is to say this federation and YOU. Matheson, out of breath and face as red as a beetroot finishes his speech and stands, staring at grand Slam. Grand Slam: Ok here’s the deal. Strike One. Va’aiga was fit enough to go around lariatting both the talent AND the Memphis eel last week. Strike Two. You know this federation’s policy on injuries. It’s in your contracts, and you as a “legal advisor” should know that. Strike Three. It’s YOU that’s out of your mids coming in here with threats. And three strikes means… GET THE HELL OUT OF MY OFFICE! Matheson: I can read these contracts perfectly, Mister Stevens. This would classify as a clear and blatant mis-use of talent, and a viable concern for SERIOUS injury. The clauses surrounding title matches are much more serious, and you, as COMMISSIONER, should know that. You DO understand that failure to revoke the title-match stipulation from this wrestling contest can and WILL result in a class-action lawsuit against the SWF, do you not? Grand Slam's eyes narrow, and he grimaces at Matheson. Grand Slam: ...yes. I can't believe any of this nonsense-- Matheson: YOU approved these contracts, Commissioner Stevens. Mark mutters something under his breath. Grand Slam: Whatever. You win this time, Matheson... I'll revoke the title stipulation--but Va'aiga better consider himself DAMNED lucky to have you and your fine print reading ass around. Matheson: Yes, yes... A wise decision just the same. Smiling, Matheson turns to leave... Grand Slam: Oh, and Matheson? It's MY professional opinion that you can crawl back under whatever slimy rock you came out from. Matheson turns to respond, but promptly gets the door to Mark's office slammed right in his face. Mark sighs and balls up the main event contract, taking a HEAVY swing at it. Grand Slam: Stupid lawyers... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 SWF Lockdown comes back from commercial with a bang the cameras going right into a wide shot of the jam packed Mellon Arena the SWF fans buzzing with excitement as the show continues. The camera cuts to a sweeping view taking in the faces and waving signs of the crowd as the fans eagerly await the next match of the show. The cameras finally cut back to the announcer’s table revealing the spandex clad Cyclone Comet and his cynical partner Bobby Riley ready as always to call the action. “Good evening everyone and welcome back to SWF LOCKDOWN! It’s been a great night so far and it’s fixing to get even better!” Cries Comet enthusiastically. “Yes indeed, and it’ll be even better at the end of the night when John Duran destroys Dace Night, and then we can all look forwards to Va’aiga killing Dace Night as well!” Riley states lounging back in his chair and looking thoroughly bored as he waits for the next match to start. “A bold prediction Citizen Riley but Citizen Night is not the sort of man to go down without a fight! And you are forgetting that the Enforcer for the match will be none other than the recently evicted Charlie Matthews!” “Matthews is just bitter Comet, The Unnamed cut him loose because of his incompetence and he’s going to have to learn to live with that, unless he fancies taking them all on by himself!” Sneers Riley. “But like a true hero Charlie Matthews is not one to give up in the face of impossible odds!” Comet states confidently. “That’s good coming from a person who was denouncing him just days ago.” Riley says with a smirk. Comet’s reply is cut off as the steel cage suspended high above the ring slowly begins to lower from the arena roof, the fans getting more and more vocal as the next match draws even closer. The cage is finally settled into place on the ring apron and secured by several members of the SWF stage crew before all eyes turn towards the entranceway the tension rising as the crowd awaits the entrance of the first participant. “This should be an entertaining match Citizens’” Comet says as he and Riley also watch the entranceway through their monitors. “Three veterans of the SJL are about to fight in the confines of that cage for a shot at citizen Duran’s Hardcore Championship.” “Duran was elevated to the SWF a long time before any of these three Comet, he’s got more experience in the WF than these three combined!” “He may have been in the SWF for a time Citizen Riley but these three men have not exactly been idle during their time in the Junior League and none of them are strangers to the hardcore environment. Citizen Duran may face a tougher challenge than you think.” Any further comments are cut of as Prong’s “Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck” hits the speakers, the arena plunging into darkness as multi coloured strobe lights flicker across the arena, the song warring with the rising boos of the fans as the first participant makes his entrance. The boos and jeers of the fans only intensify as Manson emerges from the entranceway throwing a taped fist up into the air before starting to stride purposefully down the ramp. Funyon remains at his seat by the Time Keepers table and raises his microphone to make the opening announcement. “Ladies and Gentlemen! The following contest is a Triple Threat Steel Cage Match! The only way to win is by pinfall, and the winner will be declared the Number One contender for the SWF Hardcore Championship!” Funyon pauses for a moment as Manson finally arrives at the ring, striding purposefully up the steel steps and stepping through the ropes and into the ring going immediately to his corner and sitting down as he waits for his opponents. “Introducing first in the ring at this time! Weighing 240lbs! And hailing from Denver, Colorado! MANSON!!!!!!!” The boos of the fans escalate as Funyon announces Manson but the boos quickly switch to cheers as the arena lights cut out completely and the mournful tolling of a graveyard bell echoes around the arena. "Are you scared?" "He's here......." Dark Funeral's “Dead Skin Mask” blasts out from the arena speakers as a lighting flash highlights Aecas on the Smarktron, a sadistic grin on his face. Red lights begin to strobe around the arena, like an alarm system gone wrong - or a system that is warning of imminent carnage. Thick smoke boils up from the entranceway, filling the air and carpeting the floor, a blood red spotlight picks out Aecas as he stands deep in the depths of the smoke, an eerie silhouette will a large staff in one hand. Aecas raises the staff high above his head holding it high in both hands. A long wicked blade snaps forth from the staff as Aecas tips his head back spraying a mist of blood into the air, inciting a roar of approval from the crowd as he begins to stride down the aisle. “From Shrewsbury, England! Weighing 315lbs! He is THE BLACK ANGEL! AECAS!” “And the newest member of the Unholy Trinity is certainly getting a warm reception from the fans here in Pittsburgh! Though I’m not sure I approve of his choice of mouthwash Citizen Riley.” Comet states as the Black Angel makes his way around the ring, ignoring Manson for the time being as he moves towards the Time Keeper’s table. The seven footer places his Flick Scythe reverently against the table before walking past the announcers table grinning at comet and Riley with bloody teeth as he heads around to the cage door, ascending the steps and entering the ring. “Well Comet if you want to take that issue up with him now’s your chance.” “Oh I would Citizen Riley but I have a job to do here first, hygiene lessons can be discussed later.” Comet says clearing his throat extravagantly. Aecas gazes at Manson for a moment before he begins to pace up and down the ring, looking for all the world like a caged animal as both he and Manson await their final opponent as referee Eddy Long enters the ring behind them. The crowd erupts into cheers once more as “The Gauntlet” hits the arena speakers closely followed by a series of green white and red pyros that erupt around the entranceway, surrounding the Insane Luchador as he bursts onto the scene. IL throws his arms into the air grinning as the action drags even more cheers from the SWF fans before he races down the aisle slapping palms with the fans either side as he head for the ring. “And from Easton, Pennsylvania! Weighing 201lbs! THE INSANE LUCHADOR!!!!!!!!” IL climbs the steps and enters the ring as Funyon sits himself back down, IL moves into a corner of his own as Aecas ceases his pacing and stands in the center of the ring a slight smile on his face before his features revert back to an impassive mask, dead eyes staring out of the make up that covers his face as all three men wait for Eddy long to signal the start of the match. DING! DING! DING!!!!!!!!!!!!! IL tries to start the match quickly, charging out of his corner towards Aecas, a brave move but not necessarily a smart one as the Black Angel turns around at the last second as Manson begins a charge of his own towards the giant. Aecas twists around the charging Luchador, wrapping two huge arms around his opponent’s waist and heaving him up just as Manson steamrollers in. The former Hate Machine’s intended Yakuza kick hits IL square in the face as Aecas takes him up and over with a huge German Suplex! “Yakuza Kick into a German Suplex! Citizen Rickmen never even knew what hit him!” “And the worst thing about that for IL is that Yakuza Kick was originally aimed for Aecas!” Cries Riley as IL slumps down on the canvas, hands clutching at his head. “Intentional or not Citizen Rickmen has got off to a very bad start in this match and that leaves Citizen Manson all alone with Citizen Aecas for a time!” Manson wastes no time and jumps Aecas as the big man starts to climb back up to his feet, unloaded a flurry of punches and kicks into the head and chest of the Black Angel. The ferocity of the attack driving his opponent back towards a corner as the Insane Luchador doggedly begins to drag himself up to his knees shaking his head from the huge double team move he just suffered. Manson finally succeeds in driving Aecas into the corner, continuing his assault with a stinging chop that draws a “Wooooooooooooo!!!!!!!” from the crowd, a second chop producing a similar reaction as Manson pull back for a third Knife Edge. Aecas slams a boot into the gut of the former Hate Machine, doubling his opponent over just long enough for him to step out of the corner knocking Manson down to his knees with a huge elbow to the side of the head. A second elbow crunches into Manson’s temple, sending him rocking back as Aecas grabs him by the hair, drawing his opponent back up to his feet. The Black Angel bends sideways, both arms wrapping around Manson’s waist easily lifting the smaller man off of his feet and dropping the former Hate Machine onto his shoulder. The giant pauses for a moment before running out of the corner and launching himself into the air, his right hand grabbing Manson’s head and yanking it downwards as he Powerslams his opponent into the canvas. “Manson takes the fight to Aecas but get a Running Powerslam for his troubles!” “Shades of the late great Davey Boy Smith in that move Citizen Riley!” “Aecas fighting back but he’s not trying to get a cover here in the early going, which could prove to be a mistake later on. In this kind of match up you need every pinfall you can get if you want to walk away with anything here! And Manson is not somebody to take lightly. And I doubt a single Powerslam is going to get the job done against somebody as tough as Manson Comet.” Aecas is already getting back up to his feet, dragging Manson with him, the giants left hand grabs the former Hate Machine by his throat as his right grabs his opponent by the crotch, slowly lifting Manson high into the air holding his opponent 8 feet in the air as if he weighs no more than a feather. “We’ve seen this before!” “Citizen Aecas is going for the Mother F ‘n’ Bomb!” IL finally makes his presence felt in the match as he lunges at the Black Angel from behind, dropkicking both feet into the back of Aecas’ legs, suddenly bereft of his vertical base the giant topple backwards. The Black Angel hits the canvas hard, losing his grip on Manson in mid air and the former Hate Machine crashes down on Aecas with an impromptu splash, quickly hooking one of his opponent’s huge legs in the aftermath of the impact. ONE!!!!!!!! … … TW….. IL quickly realises his mistake and rectifies it with a quick boot to the ribs, rolling Manson off of Aecas before starting to stamp down on his larger opponent. Manson quickly rolls back up to his feet, not taking kindly to the kick he just received the former Hate Machine runs into the ropes and sprints back across the ring, leaping over Aecas’ prone form and flattening the Insane Luchador with a savage lariat. The Insane Luchador hits the canvas hard as the Lariat slams across his throat, Manson is quick to get back up to his feet dragging IL up by the hair and wasting no time in Irish Whipping him across the ring, the cage rattling slightly as the Luchador hits the ropes and the mesh beyond. IL has enough presence of mind to jump over Aecas as the big man starts to get back to his feet rolling over onto his stomach and pushing himself upright. The Insane Luchador rebounds off of the ropes and uses the rising Black Angel like a springboard, planting a foot on Aecas’ back and boosting himself up and over landing squarely on a surprised Manson. The Luchador wraps his legs around Manson’s head, throwing his weight back and to the side, taking the former Hate Machine off of his feet with a swift Hurracarana! “Brilliant counter by Citizen Rickmen!” “He used Aecas to his advantage and took Manson completely off guard with that one. But Aecas is almost back up to his feet and IL had better do something quickly if he wants to keep his momentum behind him. But that shouldn’t be a problem as IL can run rings around these two.” “True enough but as we’ve seen many times in the past, speed is not always enough to get the job done Citizen Riley!” IL quickly rolls back up to his feet darting to the nearest corner and nimbly climbing up to the top using the mesh of the cage as handholds. He quickly turns, waiting until Aecas straightens up before leaping off of the top rope and driving both feet into the Black Angel’s face with a Missile Dropkick. Aecas goes down hard but immediately begins to get back up to his feet, but once again the Insane Luchador is just to quick for him, rushing into the nearest corner once again and boosting himself up to the second rope. IL watches as Aecas gets up, judging the moment and finally leaping off the second rope, his right leg dropping across the back of Aecas’ head his entire bodyweight driving the Black Angel face first into the canvas once again. “Rocker Dropper off the second rope takes Citizen Aecas back down to the canvas. Citizen Rickmen is on a roll right now!” “He’d better watch his back because Manson is coming right back at him!” Manson is indeed back on his feet and pounces on IL while the Luchador’s back is turned, wrapping his arms around his opponent’s waist and heaving him backwards into a German Suplex. Though surprised IL is far from finished, breaking his opponent’s grip in mid throw and flipping his body backwards to land on his feet as Manson’s back hits the canvas. Manson quickly flips himself over and starts to get back up to his feet only to be met with a stiff kick to the chest rocking him backwards. Il smashes another kick into the chest of the former Hate Machine before he backs up a pace giving Manson a pair of fingers before darting forward to crack one last crushing kick into his face dropping his opponent to the canvas once more. “Citizen Rickmen rolled out of that German Suplex with ease!” “And what about his counter attack? He just shredded Manson with those kicks!” IL raises his arms to the massed cheers of the fans as Manson shakes his head quickly beginning to stir from the sharp kicks that levelled him. The Luchador moves to the middle of the ropes, his hands making a twirling motion that gets another roar of approval from the crowd, unaware that a very angry Aecas is getting up behind him. “And Citizen Rickmen is signalling for an Asai Moonsault! But he is wasting time when he should be executing the move!” “Apt words Comet! Because here comes Aecas!” IL never knows what hits him as the Black Angel hurtles across the ring, ramming his shoulder into the small of his opponents back as the seven footer GORES his opponent face first into the ring ropes and the steel mesh beyond! “OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” “My goodness! Citizen Aecas just crushed Citizen Rickmen against the wall of the cage!” “And that steel doesn’t give Comet! IL will be lucky if he wakes up with any skin on his face after that!” The Insane Luchador sags against the ropes before falling back down to the canvas hands clutching at his lower back as Aecas regains his feet turning around and seeing that Manson has also managed to get back up, leaning on the ropes at the other end of the ring. Without pause the Black Angel charges across the ring his intent obvious as he lowers his head and dives at the former Hate Machine with a second huge Gore. This time luck is not with the Black Angel as Manson dives to one side leaving the giant to cannon head first into the steel! Another “OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” erupts from the crowd as Aecas’ head leaves a visible dent in the steel mesh of the cage wall. Aecas staggers backwards from the side of the cage clutching at the top of his head not seeing Manson stepping up behind him. The former Hate Machine locks his arms around the waist of the Black Angel and with an impressive show of strength heaves the big man completely off of his feet, smashing him head and neck first against the side of the cage! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! “And Citizen Aecas just got a taste of his own medicine Robert! Citizen Manson dropped him right on his head and neck against the steel!” Aecas crashes back down to the canvas as the chanting of the crowd continues to echo throughout the arena as Manson drops down to his knees, quickly pinning his larger opponent and hooking a leg as Eddy Long dashes over to count the pinfall. ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … KICKOUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Despite having had his head mashed against the steel twice in quick succession Aecas still manages a powerful kick out, sending Manson rolling off of him as his left shoulder shoots off the canvas. Manson slaps the canvas in frustration before he gets back up to his feet, grabbing Aecas by the hair and forcibly dragging his larger opponent with him into the nearest corner. The former Hate Machine boosts himself up to sit on the top turnbuckle wrapping his right arm around the head of the Black Angel, Manson bunches his legs under him and leaps off of the second rope, twisting his body around and driving Aecas head first into the canvas with a huge Tornado DDT. Both men lay on the canvas for a few moments as the Insane Luchador climbs back to his feet shaking his head and glaring angrily at his two opponents before he move to the nearest corner, once again ascending to the top rope. Manson rolls onto his front and starts to pick himself back up leaving Aecas prone on the canvas and wide open for the Insane Luchador. IL crouches on the turnbuckle for a long moment as the fans cheer louder and louder before leaping off the top, the Insane Luchador draws his legs and arms into his body in mid air before spreading them out wide as he hits a tremendous Frog Splash off the top! “And Citizen Rickmen flies back into the match with a huge Frog Splash! With the beating that Aecas ahs already taken this might be enough to get the first pinfall!” IL quickly drapes himself over the top of the giant as Eddy Long races over to count the pinfall. ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … THRE………………… A split second before Long’s hand hits the canvas for three Manson breaks up the pinfall, slamming a fist into IL’s head who already winded from his Frog Splash tumbles off of Aecas leaving the former Hate Machine to dive on top of the giant and hook a leg. ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … … TWO AND A HALF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … … … … TWO AND THREE QUARTERS!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … … … … THREEEEEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Eddy Long stops the pinfall at the last second as Aecas left shoulder just barely clears the canvas breaking the pinfall at the last second, and Long quickly orders a surprised Manson to break the pinfall. The former Hate Machine smashes the canvas with his fist as the fans shake the building with their cheers as Aecas narrowly escapes the pinfall. ”And Citizen Aecas refuses to go down! But how much more can he take Robert?!” “Not much more Comet, you saw that he only just managed to kick out of that daisy chain of moves, one more big hit from Manson or IL and I’m betting that he is going down and out of this match!” Aecas slowly sits back up as Manson takes his aggression out on the Insane Luchador and vice versa, the pair trading a flurry of stiff punches and chops. Both men soak up the punishment but eventually Manson’s greater strength proves to be the deciding factor, the former Hate machine pummelling his opponent back into the ropes. Manson grab’s IL’s right arm and Irish Whips his opponent across the ring, spinning on the spot and catching the Luchador on the rebound with a vicious Rolling Elbow. “And Citizen Rickmen is down again! The question is how long will he stay that way thanks to that hard head of his!” “I can’t see this match going on much longer Comet, these three guys have been beating the hell out of each other and there’s only so much the body can take!” “I agree Robert and Citizen Aecas is about to test Citizen Manson’s body some more!” Comet cries as Aecas rears up behind the momentarily victorious Manson. The Black Angel takes his opponent completely by surprise, locking Manson’s left arm in a Half Nelson and quickly dragging it across the former Hate Machine’s throat with his right arm. Manson’s right hand shoots up to try and break the hold as Aecas begins to literally strangle him with his own arm, wrenching the Cobra Clutch tighter as the former Hate Machine desperately struggles to free himself. Aecas keeps the hold locked on for a few moments longer before he plants his feet and heaves Manson into the air, arching himself backwards and dropping his opponent head and neck first onto the canvas with a massive Cobra Clutch Suplex. The fans explode into cheers once again as Aecas slowly gets back up to his feet, and the cheers only get louder as the giant slowly begins to climb up the turnbuckles of the nearest corner slowly getting himself into position, as behind him IL rises once more to his feet. “Citizen Aecas is going up to the top! And whenever he goes up there you have to wonder what running through that frazzled mind of his!” “Aecas is looking for one more big move to win the match, Manson looks like he is out, and I can’t say I’m surprised. All three of these guys will be waking up with sore necks tomorrow!” Aecas slowly turns around as he stands on the top turnbuckle but is not given enough time to realise the basic mistake he has just made as the third man in the match the Insane Luchador kicks his legs out from underneath him, the giant crotching himself on the top turnbuckle with a loud yell of pain. IL starts to climb up the turnbuckle after his crotched opponent before he stops and looks back into the ring at Manson. The Insane Luchador points down at the fallen body of his opponent and grins as the fans almost raise the roof with their cheers before he shakes his head and points up to the top of the cage, that simple action doubles the cheers of support in and instant as IL uses Aecas as a stepping stone to get up to the top. “Citizen Rickmen is living up to his name Robert! He’s going all the way to the top! This isn’t high risk anymore! This is insane!” “I can see the chiropractors in the back rubbing their hands already Comet! If he misses this its over! I’m not just talking about the match but his career as well!” The fans are on their feet as the Insane Luchador climbs higher and higher, giving Aecas a solid kick to the head for good measure as he boosts himself up to the top of the cage, grabbing the thick cable used for raising and lowering the structure and looking down into the ring at Manson so far below. IL lets go of the cable standing tall on the lip of the cage and raising his arms once more, all eyes are on the Luchador and the breath catches in the throats of the thousands of fans in the arena and the millions at home as Andrew Rickmen leaps off of the top of the cage.... IL flips his body forwards as he plummets through the air, twirling around in mid air turning his body through 360 degrees…..then 450…… And 2 feet above the canvas he flips his body forwards one last time, smashing down on Manson backfirst with the biggest Senton the SWF fans have ever seen! “What was that Robert?!” Cries Comet on his feet and shouting at the top of his voice to be heard over the cheering of the fans. “Something I never thought I’d see in the SWF Comet! A 630 Senton! All the way from the top of the cage! This is over!” The fans are on their feet and the cheers are deafening as IL slowly rolls himself over and drapes his upper body over Manson the crowd counting along with Eddy Long as he counts the pinfall. ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … TWO AND A HALF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … … … TWO AND THREE QUARTERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … … … … … THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! At the last possible second the pinfall is broken up by Aecas as the seven footer having had time to recover from his earlier misfortune leaps off of the top rope and drops his huge right leg across the back of the Insane Luchador’s head! “My god! Pardon my French Citizen Riley but that was so close! Citizen Rickmen had victory within his grasp only to have it snatched away at the last second by the Black Angel!” Comet cries as the fans erupt into a mixed reaction of boos and cheers. Aecas and IL slowly stagger up to their feet, the Luchador bravely keeps fighting smashing the Black Angel’s head from right to left and back again with a series of vicious punches. But Rickmen’s brains are scrambled from the leap he just took and the impact of that Legdrop driving his head into the canvas and his punches lack the power they had before. Aecas sways on his feet and looks about ready to go down himself as the events of the match finally catch back up with him but he retains enough sense about him to slam a huge boot into the belly of his opponent, doubling IL over. Aecas shoves IL’s head between his legs and slowly draws a thumb across his throat as the cheers of the fans rise up once more as they sense the end is nigh. Aecas leans forwards wrapping his arms around IL’s waist and lifting his opponent up to his shoulders, the Luchador falls back hanging upside down, his legs anchored in place by the huge hands of the Englishman. Aecas lets Il hang for a moment before he jumps into the air, spinning around 180 degrees in mid air and driving his tough opponent head first into the canvas with the Executioner! The Black Angel lets IL’s limb body fall back to the canvas and slowly leans forwards, crossing his opponent’s arms in a Darkness Pin as Eddy Long counts the pinfall one more time. ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DING! DING! DING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The fans erupt into cheers once more as Aecas falls onto his back in the ring, his huge chest labouring as Dark Funeral’s “Dead Skin Mask” hits the arena speakers once more, vying for audio domination with the fans as Funyon adds his voice to the cacophony. “The winner of the match! And the Number One contender! THE BLACK ANGEL! AECAS!!!!!!!!!” “And the Trinity are going to have another chance at capturing the Hardcore Title Robert!” “Terrific Comet. But you’re still forgetting that Dace has to face off against Duran tonight, and Terrance is currently on leave to see the shrink! The Trinity are outnumbered Comet and things are only going to get worse for them!” “Well we will see about that Citizen Riley! Coming up next good citizens, Citizen Wildchild will be defending his newly won Cruiserweight Title against Citizen Maddix! And still to come we have Citizen’s Night and Duran facing off against one another! We’re going to commercial now but stay tuned Citizen’s for more SWF action!” The cage is slowly being raised from the ring and the three men are beginning to stir as “Dead Skin mask” continues to blast over the speakers warring with the fans before the show fades out, replaced by Comet’s new next generation Pepsi Max advert. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 (edited) “They don’t know!” “Who we be!” BOOOOOO!! “They don’t know!” “Who we be!” “What they don’t know is…” KA-BOOOOOOM!! The wall of fire erupts on the stage as the fans scream hatred towards one of the most hated men in the SWF! (Comet) – The nerve of him!! How can he show is face here after what he just did to young Alan Clark. He’s like 3 times his size!! (Riley) – I guess when you’re HVT, you can do whatever you want. HVT emerges from the blaze to a shower of heat as he heads down to the ring. (Funyon) – Ladies and gentlemen…please welcome…H…V…T!!! (Comet) – What on earth could he have to say after his behavior tonight! (Riley) – I’m sorry? (Comet) – Doubt it. HVT steps over the top rope and into the ring, and he is immediately handed a microphone by Funyon. (HVT) – Yo…shut the fuck up! Thugg’s order only causes the fans to scream louder than before, and suddenly… “ASSHOLE!” “ASSHOLE!” “ASSHOLE!” “ASSHOLE!” …starts up! (HVT) – Whatever yo. Y’all can bite my dick! Now…I know y’all peeped what I just did to what’s his face…. (Comet) – His name is Alan Clark you jackass! (HVT) – I know y’all was all like…’Thugg’s an asshole…he beat up my hero…he’s beating up JLers…blah, blah, blah…’ And you know what I gotta say to dat…So the fuck what?!? Which one of y’all bitches out there in the stands gonna come down here and do somethin’ about it? The fans boo like mad, and some even try to break through the security to get a piece of Thugg. (HVT) – Just like I fuckin’ thought. Y’all some bitches just like all them bitches in the back. Let me tell you why I did what I did to Clark and to Jenknins and to Maddix…CAUSE I FUCKIN’ CAN…cause I’m HVT mutha fuckas…and all them sorry ass fucka’s comin’ up from da JL can blow me. They in my hood now…and I run shit around here. Michael Craven might have pushed me out on some fake ass bullshit at CF…but even he knows I still run dis shit. You gotta come through me to get what you want in da SWF…fo’ real…and dem JLers had best step correct. BOOOO!! (HVT) – I heard dat lil’ ass Spike Jenkins challenged me to a match. Bitch please….you can’t see me. You ain’t even fit to hold my 40 homie…what makes you think I’ll have a match with you? Whatever…I ain’t worried about yo stupid ass no way…if you want a early death…come get some. I’m right here you sack of shit…we can handle this shit right now… The fans pop for a possible match, but then silence sets in as everyone waits for Spike to come out… CRACK! RAAAAAAAAAA!! (Comet) – OH MY GOD!! THAT’S NOT SPIKE JENKINS!! “Go Home” by Blessed Union Souls explodes from the speakers, and the crowd erupts into a frenzy of cheers. (Comet) – That’s the commissioner of the SWF! He’s gonna set Thugg straight!! (Riley) – Thugg may have done it this time…he’s got the commissioner out here! Mark Stevens walks through the curtain onto the stage, and he stands there with a microphone in his hand, drilling a hole into Thugg with his eyes. (HVT) – This ain’t got shit to do with you Mar… (Stevens) – SHUT THE FUCK UP!! RAAAAAAAA!!! (Comet) – YES! YES!! Give ‘em hell Mark! (Stevens) – You listen to me Thugg…and you listen very very close! I am sick of your bullshit! I’m sick of you bullying my talent…I’m sick of you thinking you own this place…I’m sick of your shitty wrestling…I’m sick of your complaining…I’m sick of you attacking people…I’m sick of you injuring my roster…plain and simple…I’M FUCKING SICK OF YOU!! RAAAAAA!! (Comet) – OH HELL YEAH!! Commissioner Stevens’s is letting him have it! (Stevens) – You come out here and you celebrate an attack from behind! You celebrate an attack from behind…a sucker punch?? What kind of man are you? Not only did you attack Alan from behind…you attacked a man just getting started in this business…a man with a lot of promise, but that doesn’t know the ropes yet…you attacked a JLer! And, on top of that…you attacked a man half your size! I don’t see you attacking Va’aiga… (HVT) – Yo…fo’ real… (Stevens) – I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP! I’m talking now! RAAAAAA!!! (Stevens) – You’re not attacking people your own size because you’re a punk! You’re a punk who’d rather pick on kids than someone who you know will kick your ass! I’m sick of it…and I’m gonna put a stop to it right now! RAAAAA!! (HVT) – Oh yeah…what you gonna do, Mark? (Stevens) – The only thing I can do…the one thing that anyone would do in my position…Thugg…Damien McKinney…as of right now…you are no longer an employee of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation…YOU ARE FIRED!! RAAAAAAAA!!! (Comet) – YES!! YES!! FINALLY…FINALLY…SOMEONE HAS PUT A STOP TO THUGG’S TERROR! (Riley) – That’s a little extreme don’t you think? (Stevens) – Now…gentlemen…if you don’t mind…please escort Mr. McKinney from the building! Suddenly, about 12 police officers emerge from the back and head straight down to the ring, while Thugg stands there in total shock. “Na, na, na, na.” “Na, na, na, na.” “Hey, hey, hey.” “Goodbye!” “Na, na, na, na.” “Na, na, na, na.” “Hey, hey, hey.” “Goodbye!” The fans continue the song as the officers approach the ring and Mark disappears to the back. (Comet) – You’re damn right Bobby! HVT is freaking done…he’s done! And I couldn’t be happier! HVT drops the microphone and slides out of the ring as “Go Home” hits the speakers once again. The fans go absolutely nuts as HVT snatches his arms away from one of the officers, determined to leave under his own power. He stomps back up the ramp with the cops at his heels as Lockdown fades to commercial. Edited February 12, 2004 by Grand Slam Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 As Lockdown returns from it’s brief commercial break, we are greeted by the SWF’s ace reporter Ben ‘Please don’t call me Benjamin’ Hardy stood in a lavish dressing room. Around him the sound of steel drums being played echoes from, judging by the sound quality, one impressive sound system…the casual scene broken as Ben beings to speak… “Welcome back to…to SWF Lockdown. Please forgive my…confused tone and body language, because I’m here in the Unnamed’s locker room…and…as you can hear in the background, steel drums are playing. I’m…I’m as confused as you are. The room is empty except for Landon Maddix and Meg…” Ben turns around, allowing the camera to catch sight of Landon Maddix and Megan Skye sat on deckchairs in one corner of the room...a bright white light being shone down on them by an out of sight heater, as both hold tropical looking cocktails in their hands. Landon is wearing black sunglasses, floral swimming shorts and the most hideous Hawaian shirt this side of Mark Madden's wardrobe...looking like a total fool in the process...while Megan wears nothing more than a blue Hawaian print bikini and sarong, which understandably catches Ben's eye. "Meg...Megan Skye." Ben stutters. "Heeey!" Maddix smiles as he catches sight of Ben over his glasses. "Come an' join de party, ma main mon!" Confused, Hardy just blinks idioticly trying to comprehend what's going on. "Landon...if you don't mind me asking...what the hell is this?" he then questions. "You've got a Cruiserweight Title match in little under an hour, and here you are drinking cocktails on a deckchair. I came to interview you about the match, an..." Maddix chuckles to himself, before pulling an un-occupied deckchair out from beside him. "Benjameen..." Maddix says in his hideously fake Carribean accent. "You has got to relax more mon! I knows I gots a Cruiserr'weight Titarl match lata' on...but me does not care! Me is relax'een wit' da beau'tee'ful Megan...here, dis chair 'ees for you Ben. Come an' join de party." Still bemused, Hardy slowly sits cautiously down on the deckchair, looking perhaps more stupid than Maddix in his now slightly crumpled black 'suit'. As his eyes catch sight of Megan, Hardy nearly misses the deckchair altogether, but luckily manages to catch himself and sit down safely. "Ha ha...yeah mon!" Landon chuckles. "You wants a cocktail?" "No...no, thank you." Ben bemusedly mumbles. "Landon...what is all this?" "Dis? Wat is dis. Why, dis is my own lee'tle pee'ce o' palidise! You know, I thought to ma'self...Landon...yo gotta reee...laaax! You know what I be sayin'? So I got me some tunes...da steel drums. Remindin' me of ma vaca'shun to da Maldives. Beauuutiful beaches mon. And de beautiful women too, you know." Landon chuckles again, taking another sip from his slightly toxic looking blue cocktail as Megan seems to be trying to get a suntan for some reason. "Landon..." Ben interrupts. "Wh...why?" "Why wat Benjameen?" "Why...why the lights, why the deckchairs...why aren't you wearing any pants, and why are you talking like Dusty Rhodes?" "Dusty Rhodes!?!" Landon exclaims. "Man...are you makin' fun o' de way I talkeeen?" "No...of course not. It's just..." "Benjameen...relax. Here...have yo'self a cocktail, yah?" Maddix grabs a jug from a table beside him, filled about halfway with the weird looking blue liquid. Grabbing another glass, Landon pours the blue cocktail into the glass, pops in one of those plastic curly straws you get in packs of cereal sometimes, and passes it to Ben. Unsurprisingly apprehensive at tasting the drink, Ben places the glass to one side of the deckchair. "Now...were was me? Ah, yes...me was talkin' about de Maldives. Me learn there how to relax...and to enjoy me life a lots more. An' now, me is chillin' me'self before de big Cruiserr'weight Titarl match wit' de Wildchild. Now, me knows de Wildchild 'ees de reigning champion, and he 'ees da forma' SJL Heavyweight Champion. But mon'...I's been dere, and I's done dat. I was de' last ever SJL Heavyweight Champion, de' last ever SJL Undisputed Champion. And yet, de Wildchild pretends he is not knowing who I is? Dat is not funny mon. I knows you knows who I is. An' Wildchild...I knows who you is too. Which ees why I is listenin' to de steel drums, why I is drinkin' de cocktails and why I is relaxin' in de heat. So I is like what Wildchild be." Landon again take a sip from his drink, this time looking at Ben expecting him to do the same. Begrudgingly Ben begins to do so, as in his line of vision Megan suddenly stretches...causing Ben to almost choke on his drink. "You knows something Ben...I is ready for...Ben...is you ok mon?" Landon asks, only the slightest hint of compassion audible over his amused voice. "Ye...yeah...I...I think so." Ben splutters, still choking a little. "Ah...dat is great, yah? Now...me is talkin' about being ready for de Wildchild. I knows dis' is a big test for me...but if me concentrate on ancient Jamaican philosophies, me will be ok. Me have to remember to relax. Then, me can stand me'self up next to de mountain...and chop eet down, wit' de edge of me hand." "Landon..." Ben interrupts, seemingly free from the choking liquid now. "What exactly is the deal here? I mean this is...is..." "Stupid?" Landon inquires, lowering the sunglasses down to his nose. "Stupid?" Landon smiles, before taking off his sunglasses slowly...and hurling them across the room, the cheap plastic they've been made out of shattering as it hits the wall. Suddenly Landon loses his composure as he scrambles off the deckchair as angrily as he can, yelling down at Hardy who suddenly finds himself stuck on a deckchair with the former JL Undisputed Champion yelling at him. "You're DAMN RIGHT it's stupid. The steel drums are stupid, this ugly *BEEP*ing shirt is stupid, this drink tastes like crap...and you Wildchild..." Landon snaps, turning to the camera. "...you and your damn accent, your damn cool calm presence...you're not stupid. Oh no, no. You're a JOKE! You're so proud of your heritage...and so proud of your Bahamian roots. And it makes you look like a joke. From that ugly ring attire to your damn voice...I don't care how many titles you've won, how experienced you are in this ring, what you've done in the past...as far as I'm concerned, you're a joke! And this is coming from the guy who used to hit people with baguettes and dress up in European costumes...just to pander to these ungrateful fans." Boos can be heard in the background, as suddenly Landon angrily turns away from the camera...Hardy having got the hell out of his way, as the former JL Champion grabs his vacated deckchair and tips it over sending the table and drinks flying too. "And do you want to know the funniest thing?" Landon asks, turning back to the camera. "People have the nerve to call me a joke. Oh yeah. That's all I've been hearing all week. 'Ooh, Landon lost to Sacred, Landon lost his titles...what a joke.' Since Clusterfuck I've been hearing that. And I am sick to Todd damn death of it! I'm not a joke. Look at me...I'm a member of the most indimidating, dominating and above all powerful force in this company The Unnamed. I'm the man who dominated the SJL for the past...two...months! I'm no joke. And yet, it's all I've heard all week." Landon's cheeks begin to slowly redden in his angered state, as Megan too has gotten off her deckchair and out of the firing line. "And then...on Lockdown...you had the audacity to claim you didn't know who I was. And you even implied that I'm...a bitch? Wildchild, until then I could just about bear you. You know...every time I watched the SWF and saw you on the screen, I couldn't stand the look of you. Everytime I heard you talk, that ridiculous Rastafarawhatever the *BEEP* accent you've got...it just grated right through me. Your butchery of the English language used to make me want to smash chairs through my T.V screen...just to shut you up. But...I could still just about bear you. But the moment you implied I was a joke, a nobody, a bitch...you stepped over that line buddy! Now...this is personal. This isn't just about proving myself to you, and this isn't just about proving myself to Va'aiga and Duran. This isn't even about winning more gold for the Unnamed. This isn't about anyone's heritage...I'm an equal opportunity ass kicker. Bahamian, Jamaican, Belgian, German, Australian, Tazmanian...Ben, what nationality are you?" "Er...Ame...American." Ben weakly replies from off camera. "I'd kick your ass too!" Landon snaps back, which Ben doesn't react too very bravely. "See Wildchild...this is about kicking...your...ass. Proving you wrong. Showing you...that I'm not a nobody. And showing the world that I'm no joke. And when it's all said and done, and I've taken your precious little belt...then..." Landon chuckles, before turning back around and tipping over a second deckchair in anger...a grin still on his face as he turns back around. "Then we'll see who the bitch is!" The grin dissapears, as Landon walks out of the camera shot...which now focuses on the destroyed 'Carribean scene', before fading out. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 “Welcome back to Lockdown,” says an exuberant Cyclone Comet. “And folks, just two weeks ago, at our most recent PPV, Tom Flesher and Wildchild had a ladder match for the ages, in which the Bahama Bomber won, becoming the champion of the newly-reinstated Cruiserweight division. And tonight, he’ll make his first title defense against one of the newest members of the Unnamed, and the last man to hold the SJL Heavyweight Championship, Landon Maddix!” “I like what I’ve seen of this Maddix so far,” adds Bobby Riley. “He’s shown me that he has the potential to go far in this sport, and he’s been on an unbelievable roll ever since he aligned himself with Todd Royal. Prior to Clusterfuck, he’d put together an impressive string of victories, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he started up a new winning streak here tonight, and bring some more gold to the Unnamed in the process!” “That is indeed a possibility, Robert,” concedes Comet, “but I wouldn’t bet the house on it. Wildchild has spent his entire career hoping for the chance to become the Cruiserweight Champion, and now that he has, I can’t imagine that he’s going to allow Landon Maddix to take it from him in his first title defense!” “Stranger things have happened,” replies Riley. “I didn’t think that Ejiro Fasaki was going to lose the World Heavyweight Championship in his very first defense, but Danny Williams shocked the world when he beat Ejiro for the strap; don’t be too shocked if you see lightning strike twice here tonight in Pittsburgh. After all, Maddix has all the tools to be a great Cruiserweight wrestler: he’s quick, he’s smart, he’s agile, and he’s great at capitalizing on his opponent’s weaknesses. There’s no question that he’s one of the two top prospects to come out of the JL’s last graduating class, and SWF gold is definitely in his future, so he might as well start now!” “Citizen Maddix is indeed all of the things you’ve said,” agrees Comet. “But what you’ve failed to mention, Robert, is that Wildchild is better at everything that Maddix is good at; he’s got more experience in the WF, and his incredible run with the Hardcore Title should serve as proof that he knows how to handle himself in big match situations. As fast and as agile as Maddix is, Wildchild is even faster, and even more agile; in fact, Wildchild’s agility is unprecedented in the history of this business! And Maddix is more inclined to wrestle on the mat of these two individuals, but Wildchild has proven time and time again, just as he did against Tom Flesher at the PPV, that he’s more than capable of holding his own on the mat; he’s not going to bust out any Weaverlocks or Gokuraku Clutches anytime soon, but if you’re not prepared for Wildchild’s mat wrestling, you could find yourself stretched out before you realize what happened to you!” “Perhaps,” concedes Riley, “but Landon Maddix does have one thing that Wildchild doesn’t: Megan Skye! She’s helped Maddix win more than one match, and it wouldn’t surprise me in the least to see her play a huge factor in the match tonight!” “I’ll grant you that,” agrees Comet. “Wildchild is going to have to keep his head on a swivel tonight, not only for Megan Skye, but also for Todd Royal, and the rest of the Unnamed. Well folks, we’ve done enough talking about who’s going to win this match; now let’s let the athletes decide, as we go to the ring for the irrepressible Funyon!” The SWF’s faithful ring announcer stands in the center of the ring, wearing a black tuxedo, with a yellow bow tie and cummerbund, in honor of the Pittsburgh crowd. Raising the microphone to his lips, he says, “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, with a ten-minute time limit, and it is for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship!” With that, the lights in the Mellon Arena all dim, and the Pittsburgh fans wait in nervous anticipation until the speakers ring out with the defiant challenge: “DON’T YOU WANNA BE ME?” Fozzy’s “Don’t You Wish You Were Me” begins to infect the speakers of the arena, but it’s heavy rock beats are drowned out by the boos of over twenty-thousand fans. The only light currently visible in the arena comes in the way of four bright blue beams of light shining down from the rafters, illuminating the ramp, and alternately flickering off two at a time. “And here comes the challenger,” says Comet, as Landon Maddix makes his way out onto the stage. The challenger raises his hands out to either side and gestures towards the crowd as if preparing to accept their adulation, but is met only by jeers. Nonplussed, Maddix steps towards the edge of the ramp before turning back around sharply, awaiting the arrival of his manager, Megan Skye. “Making his way to the ring at this time,” says Funyon, as the lights are restored in the arena, “the challenger, being accompanied to the ring by his manager, Megan Skye! From Huron, South Dakota, weighing two hundred eleven pounds, he is the last man to hold the SJL Heavyweight Championship, he is the number one Disciple of Todd, He is: LANDON MAAAAAADIX!” Maddix leaps to the apron, extending a hand to Megan and helping her hop to the apron. In his finest imitation of a true gentleman, Maddix holds the middle rope up, allowing Skye to step between the middle and bottom ropes to enter the ring, before running across the apron and leaping up to the middle turnbuckle. “How can you not think that this guy has champion written all over him,” says Bobby reverently, as Maddix looks out at the crowd, happily accepting more of their ill will. He leaps over the top rope and into the ring, removing his “Praise Todd” T-shirt and handing it to Megan before stretching himself out to prepare for the match as his music fades into the ethereal. “There’s no doubt that Maddix has his game face on,” says Comet, “but he’s going to have to raise his game to another level if he wants to come away with a victory here…” Before Comet could complete his sentence, the lights cut out immediately, and this time the Mellon Arena erupts in a preemptive cheer, as Reggie Noble’s voice cuts through the darkness like a blade: ATTENTION! ALL YOU NIGGAZ! ALL YOU BITCHES! TIME TO PUT DOWN THE CRISTAL, TIME TO TAKE OFF THE ICE FOR A MINUTE… TIME TO THROW A LITTLE MUD IN THIS MOTHERFUCKA… “… BECAUSE HERE COMES THE CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION RIGHT NOW,” shouts Comet, finishing his previous thought. A single spotlight centers itself on the stage, flashing off and on in rhythm as Redman’s “Let’s Get Dirty” throbs melodiously throughout the arena. The Bahama Bomber bursts onto the stage, holding the Cruiserweight Championship on his shoulder, as the Tag Team Title belt remains strapped to his waist. “AAAAND his opponent,” says Funyon, “from the Bahamas, weighing two hundred fourteen pounds, he is one-half of the SWF Tag Team Champions, and the NEEEEW SWF Cruiserweight Champion! He is: The WIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” Wildchild runs down the ramp, slapping hands with the fans surrounding the barricade, and completes a victory lap around the ring before somersaulting over the bottom rope and into the ring. The Bahama Bomber gracefully springs to his feet and races to the corner, leaping onto the middle turnbuckle and holding the Cruiserweight Title above his head proudly as the fans cheer on. “If you think the challenger is focused, Bobby,” asks Comet, “what about the Champion?” “I’ll say this for Wildchild,” replies Riley, “he’s a great Cruiserweight wrestler, but that’s only going to make it all the more impressive when Landon takes that belt from him!” Wildchild embraces the Cruiserweight Title before surrendering it and the Tag Team Title belt to referee Sexton Hardcastle, whose face is all bandaged and bruised from the Knuckle Bomb he took from Janus the week before. He walks over towards the edge of the ring and hands the belts to Funyon before signaling to the timekeeper to start the match. DING! DING! DING! Wildchild and Maddix circle each other before meeting in the center of the ring for a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Landon quickly takes advantage, grabbing at Wildchild’s left wrist and twisting his arm around into an arm-wringer. He turns away from Wildchild to look at the crowd insufferably pleased with himself for his ‘brilliant’ wrestling. “Landon gets off to a good start with an arm-wringer,” notes Comet, “But he’d better not take his focus away from the Wildchild too long!” Sure enough, Maddix’s distraction allows the Bahama Bomber to reverse the arm-wringer into one of his own, and pull Landon towards the edge of the ring before he can react, and leaps into the air, only to spring off the ropes and back towards the Disciple, where he wraps his legs around Landon’s head and takes him over with a phenomenal head-scissors! Wildchild beats Maddix to his feet and watches in amusement as he calls Hardcastle over to him, claiming that the Bahama Bomber pulled his hair. “Maddix trying to argue that Wildchild pulled the hair when he took him over for that headscissors, but I’m not buying it, and I don’t think that the referee is, either!” Landon walks back over towards Wildchild, this time stunning him with a poke to the eyes, followed by to stiff kicks to the midsection. Maddix grabs Wildchild by the wrist and whips him across the ring, leaping into the air as he bounces off the ropes and wrapping his legs around the Champion’s head… WHAM! … Flipping him over with a beautiful hurricanrana! “How’s THAT for agility,” says Riley, as Maddix returns to his feet, accepting Megan’s applause. “When was the last time Wildchild went up against someone who could match him move for move?” Wildchild rolls to his feet and charges towards Maddix, and the Disciple deftly sidesteps him, watching as he continues on to the edge of the ring, but the Human Hurricane explodes off the ropes before Landon can react a second time… WHAM! … Blasting him in the face with a flying forearm! Both men get back to their feet quickly, but Wildchild beats Landon by a step, and leaps back into the air, whipping his leg around sharply… WHACK! … To smack Maddix in the face with a leg lariat! Landon rolls outside the ring, where Megan rushes to his side, patting him on the back and offering him words of encouragement, as the Bahama Bomber strides confidently across the ring, leaping onto the middle rope and raising his arms to the applause of the crowd! “What happened to Landon’s commitment,” muses Comet mirthfully. “He came into this match full of bravado, but as soon as the action got a little heavy for him, he bailed out!” “That’s called strategizing,” replies Riley. “He and Megan are just working the kinks out of their game plan, that’s all; you don’t really think that he’s afraid of Wildchild, do you?” “I don’t know whether he’s afraid or not,” replies Comet, “but now isn’t the time for him to be plotting strategy with Megan Skye; he should have worked out what he wanted to do before he ever got out here!” Satisfied with his new tactics, Maddix slides underneath the bottom rope back into the ring. He approaches Wildchild in the center of the ring, bolstered by Megan’s solitary cheers of “Go Landon!” Maddix goes behind Wildchild to secure a waistlock, but the Bahama Bomber counters easily, prying Landon’s hands free and successfully executing a standing switch, reversing into an waistlock of his own. Wildchild jams his foot behind Maddix’s heel and uses his leverage to take the Disciple off of his feet, dropping him to the canvas with a textbook waistlock takedown, before leaping into the air… BAM! … And crashing down onto Landon’s back before he can react with a Running Senton Splash! Wildchild bounces immediately back to his feet, and races towards the edge of the ring as Maddix struggles to recover, but just as he bounces off the ropes, Megan reaches into the ring to grab him by the ankle, preventing his forward progress. “Damn that jezebel,” growls Comet, as Wildchild shakes his foot free of Skye’s grip. “She’s got no right to interfere in this match!” “She’s got EVERY right to interfere in this match,” counters Riley, as Landon gets back to his feet, unseen by Wildchild. “She’s his licensed manager, and she has a right to be out there!” “That’s not the same as having the right to interfere in the match,” replies Comet, as Maddix charges towards Wildchild at the edge of the ring. “Oh, no! Look out Wildchild!” THWACK! Maddix rises into the air, gaining incredible altitude as he propels himself towards Wildchild to deliver a running dropkick, but the Bahama Bomber moves out of the way, causing him to crotch himself on the top rope! “Backfire,” crows Comet. “Landon Maddix went for that insidious sneak attack, but Wildchild was a little too fast for him!” The Caribbean Cruiser shakes the ropes up and down, inflicting further injury to Landon’s genital area before running in front of him to the corner, leaping onto the top rope, and springing back off… WHAM! … Smashing him with a springboard dropkick that sends him tumbling to the arena floor! Megan rushes over to attend to Landon as Wildchild rolls back to his feet, bouncing up and down excitedly. “You can’t let your guard down with this kid for a second,” marvels Comet, as Wildchild walks over to the corner, climbing up to the top turnbuckle, “He’s that fast! Maddix had just the slightest lapse in concentration, and he’s paying for it dearly… and now the Wildchild’s gonna fly!” The Bahama Bomber steadies himself on the top rope and prepares to descend upon Maddix with a righteous aerial attack, but Megan runs into his line of attack in a desperate attempt to protect her appointed charge. Perturbed, Wildchild drops down from his perch and leaps over the top rope down to the arena floor, stalking menacingly towards Skye. “Oh, look at the big, bad Cruiserweight Champion,” mocks Riley. “Going to pick a fight with a woman! Isn’t he a tough guy? Why doesn’t he pick on somebody his own size?” “If it weren’t for Megan Skye’s constant interference,” replies Comet, “He WOULD be picking on someone his own size! This is the second time now that she’s involved herself in this match, and obviously it’s starting to get on Wildchild’s nerves!” Wildchild succeeds in chasing away Megan and turns his attention back to Maddix… CLANG! … Only to have the Disciple of Todd trip him into the steel stairs with a Drop Toehold! “Brilliant strategy by Megan and Landon,” remarks Riley. “Maddix needed a little time, and Megan bought it for him; they outsmart the idiot Wildchild, and now Maddix is firmly in control of this match!” Landon picks Wildchild up off of the arena floor and rolls him into the ring. He slides in underneath the bottom rope as the Tropical Tumbler is getting back to his feet, and forces him back against the ropes with a series of rapid-fire punches. Grabbing the Champion by the wrist, Maddix whips him across the ring, but Wildchild reverses easily… WHAM! … But the Cockroach runs behind the Bahama Bomber, wrapping his left arm underneath Wildchild’s left and snares him in a front facelock with his right hand as he floats up and over the back of the Cruiserweight Champion… WHAM! … Coming back around to drive Wildchild’s face into the canvas with a wrap-around DDT! “Nose Job,” crows Riley. “He hit him with the Nose Job! That’s gonna do it!” Maddix rolls Wildchild onto his back and reaches over to hook the leg as Hardcastle drops down to count the pin: ONE! TWO! THR— KICKOUT! “Two count only,” sighs Comet. “Oh my, was that close!” Maddix rolls to his knees, admonishing the referee for a three-count, but Hardcastle is intractable, insisting on two. Landon stands up and pulls Wildchild to his feet, snaring him in a front-facelock and reaching down to grab the leg… WHAM! … Before snatching the Champion suddenly off the mat, jerking him overhead and back down with a snap suplex! Maddix releases his grip and rolls onto his stomach, immediately springing back to his feet, and walks abreast of Wildchild before leaping off the canvas in flipping through the air… SPLASH! … Only to crash back down with a standing Shooting Star Press! “Standing Star Press,” shouts Riley. “This will do it!” Maddix applies a lateral press on the Champion as Hardcastle dives into position to check the pinfall: ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! “Thank Zeus,” sighs Comet. “Only a two-count!” “Sexton Hardcastle must have suffered some brain damage from that Knuckle Bomb last week,” grumbles Riley. “There’s no way in the world that wasn’t a three count!” Maddix, now showing signs of frustration, drags Wildchild over towards the corner and then scales to the top turnbuckle. “Maddix is about to take flight,” says Riley. “I want you to pay close attention, Comet; watch how a REAL Cruiserweight wrestler gets it done!” Landon leaps fearlessly off the top turnbuckle, twisting and rotating his body in midair as he plummets to earth, descending upon Wildchild with a corkscrew moonsault… CRASH! … But the Bahama Bomber rolls towards the corner, safely avoiding the Disciple as he crashes into the mat! “Is that how a ‘real’ cruiserweight gets it done, Robert,” mocks Comet. “Nothing to worry about,” replies Riley. “Landon’s still got this match under control!” Both men return to their feet at nearly the same time, and Maddix stalks towards Wildchild, trying to maintain his rapidly depleting advantage… WAP! … But the Bahama Bomber fights back, stunning him with a quick jab to the face! WAP! WAP! WAP! Wildchild continues to punch repeatedly, forcing him back to the edge of the ring, and then grabs him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring. Wildchild lowers his head to deliver a backdrop as Maddix bounces off the ropes… SNAP! … But the Cockroach traps the Cruiserweight Champion in a front facelock and spins around suddenly, driving him into the canvas with swinging neckbreaker! “Neckbreaker,” crows Riley, as Maddix drags Wildchild back towards the corner. “I told you, Comet! It’s going to happen; it’s in the air! Landon Maddix is going to become the new Cruiserweight Champion tonight!” Maddix pulls Wildchild to his feet and leans him over the top rope before seating himself on the top turnbuckle. Standing up on the middle turnbuckle, he pulls Wildchild across his body, dangling the Champion’s body over his shoulder as he wraps his own free arm around that of the Wildchild. “Crash Landon,” shouts Riley. “If he hits this… NO… WHEN he hits this… you’re going to be looking at your new Cruiserweight Champion right there!” Landon looks out into the crowd confidently, before turning his attention towards Megan and shouting, “Get my belt!” He turns his attention back towards the ring and bends down to lift off… WHAM! … But the Bahama Bomber leaps off of the canvas with a desperate motion, meeting Maddix on the middle turnbuckle and snatching him out of the corner, overhead and down to the canvas with a breathtaking belly-to-belly suplex! “Oh my,” screams Comet. “What an AMAZING belly-to-belly by the Wildchild!” The Human Hurricane drags himself over to the corner, and uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet. With another sudden burst of adrenaline, he leaps onto the top turnbuckle and spreads his legs apart, allowing his thighs to bounce off the ropes before flipping backwards into the ring… SPLASH! … Crashing into Maddix with a split-legged moonsault! He hooks the leg as Hardcastle dives to the canvas to deliver the count: ONE! TWO! THREE! … But before Hardcastle’s hand can drop for a third time, Megan drags Landon’s foot underneath the bottom rope, and makes sure to call his attention to it! “Landon’s foot in underneath the rope,” sighs Riley. “The ref’s gotta stop the count!” “Only because of Megan Skye,” grumbles Comet. “Once again, she involves herself in this match, directly affecting the outcome!” Wildchild gets to his feet and walks over to the edge of the ring to admonish Megan for interfering in his match… WHACK! … And her distraction works to perfection as Landon lodges a kneelift into the small of the Champion’s back! He then grabs Wildchild by the back of the head, snaring him in an inverted front facelock… WHAM! … Before falling backwards, planting the Tropical Tumbler into the canvas with a Reverse DDT! “You’ve got to love the teamwork displayed by Landon Maddix and Megan Skye,” reports Riley. “They’ve out-hustled and out-thought Wildchild for this entire match, and it’s going to pay off here in just a few minutes, when Maddix brings the Cruiserweight Title to the Unnamed! And here comes the cover!” ONE! TWO! THR— KICKOUT! “Indeed, Robert,” replies Comet, as Wildchild kicks out. “They have proven to be a great team, but this isn’t a handicapped match! She’s giving Maddix an unfair advantage!” “Oh come on,” dismisses Riley. “She hasn’t put her hands on Wildchild this whole match.” “Have you forgotten about when she grabbed him by the ankle just a few minutes ago?” Riley pauses for a moment before replying, “Why do you have to bring up old (bleep)?” The Disciple pulls Wildchild back to his feet, and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him towards the opposite edge of the ring… WHAM! … But the Caribbean Cruiser reverses the whip attempt, wrapping his free arm around Landon’s neck as he pulls the challenger towards him, and then laces their inside legs together… WHAM! … Before dropping him on the mat with a Russian leg sweep! “Counter,” cries Comet. “Wildchild countered that move into a Russian Leg Sweep! It’s anybody’s match now!” Megan Skye pounds the mat desperately, trying to rouse Maddix as both men remains motionless on the canvas. Hardcastle begins to deliver a ten-count: ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! At the count of eight, Maddix and Wildchild both begin to stir. They each get to their knees and begin to exchange punches. WAP! WHACK! WAP! WHACK! WAP! WHACK! They continue to trade punches as they both get back to their feet, with Wildchild getting the better of it, but the Cockroach doubles him over with a stunning knee to the midsection. He grabs him by the wrist and whips him across the ring, lowering his head to deliver a backdrop as Wildchild bounces off the ropes… WHAM! … But the Bahama Bomber leaps HIGH into the air, extending his leg over the back of Landon’s neck and driving him face-first into the canvas with his patented Caribbean Cutter! “Cutter,” exclaims Comet, as Wildchild nips back up to his feet. “And he just gave the sign for the Falling Star Press!” Wildchild rolls Maddix over onto his back and runs towards the edge of the ring, but an astute Megan Skye leaps onto the apron frantically, forcing the Champion to come to a sudden stop! “Again with the interference,” hollers Comet. “This is getting out of control! Referee Sexton Hardcastle needs to have her removed from ringside!” By this point, Wildchild has had way more than enough, and is all the way up in Megan’s face, screaming obscenities at her in French. Megan leans away from him, a terrified expression on her face, but remains on the ring apron, just long enough for the Disciple to sneak up behind Wildchild and grab him by the trunks, rolling him up against the mat! ONE! Unseen by the referee, Maddix reaches towards the edge of the ring, and grabs onto the middle rope to enhance his leverage. TWO! “He’s got the ropes,” shrieks Comet. “He’s got the damned ropes!” THREE! NO! Less than a half-second before Hardcastle’s hand drops for three, he notices Landon’s hand on the middle ropes, and orders an immediate break, nullifying the count! The crowd lets out an audible gasp as Maddix gets back to his feet, feigning innocence. “It’s about time the referee paid attention to what was going on in the ring,” shouts Comet. “Maddix nearly stole one!” “TODD DAMN IT,” roars Riley. “Your job is to count the pin, Hardcastle! Count the pin; is that so freakin’ hard?” Maddix traps Wildchild in a front facelock and grabs him by the leg with his free arm before lifting him in the air. “I smell a Neckbreaker Suplex coming up,” says Riley. “And he might just use this to set up the Fah-Laming Fury Moonsault! At this stage in the match, there’s no way Wildchild will be able to kickout!” With Wildchild suspended in midair, Maddix releases his leg and relaxes the grip on the front facelock, waiting for his opponent to drop so that he can hit his signature neckbreaker, but before the Human Hurricane starts to fall, he twists his body in towards Landon and slips out of his grip, landing on his feet, with his back to the Cockroach’s face. OOF! Before Maddix can react, Wildchild thrusts his foot backwards suddenly with a mule kick, jamming his heel into the Disciple’s midsection. With Landon doubled over behind him, Wildchild reaches back and locks his arms with those of the challenger, and then spins underneath him before raising back up, leaving Maddix dangling upside down over his shoulders. The crowd rises in anticipation, cheering themselves hoarsely as Wildchild kicks his feet out from under him… WHAAAAM! … Drilling Landon’s skull into the canvas with the Wild Ride! “Wild Ride,” exclaims Comet. “Wild Ride! Bah Thor’s Hammer, he hit the Wild Ride!” Wildchild rolls over on top of Maddix and applies a lateral press as referee Hardcastle drops down to deliver the count: ONE! Megan leaps up on the apron, gesturing desperately to get the referee’s attention… TWO! But this time, Hardcastle is wise to her tricks, and ignores her as his hand strikes the canvas for a final time… THREE! DING! DING! DING! The crowd erupts as “Let’s Get Dirty” begins to pump through the speakers once more! Wildchild rolls off of his defeated challenger and onto his knees, breathing heavily as Hardcastle raises his hand in victory. Funyon rises from his seat at ringside, delivering the title belts to the edge of the ring as he lifts the microphone to his lips. “Here is your winner,” he says, “and STIIIIIL SWF Cruiserweight Champion… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” “What a gutsy win by the Cruiserweight Champion,” says Comet. “Landon Maddix was probably a more difficult challenge than he anticipated, but he managed to stay the course, and he is still the Cruiserweight Champion!” Wildchild climbs onto the middle turnbuckle, holding the Cruiserweight Title overhead as he celebrates his victory… WHAM! … When out of nowhere, Todd Royal streaks down to the ring, and grabs the Cruiserweight Champion from behind, slamming him to the mat with a bone-crunching Crucifix Powerbomb! “Todd is here,” rejoices Riley. “Praise Todd!” Royal begins stomping away at the head of the Cruiserweight Champion, as Megan keeps the referee distracted. “This is a mugging,” wails Comet. “The match is over; somebody put a stop to this!” Suddenly, the crowd comes alive again, as Wildchild’s tag team partner, Johnny “The Barracuda” Dangerous, races down to the ring to make the save! He runs directly for Todd, but Royal hops out of the ring just ahead of him, and walks back towards the ramp as Megan helps Landon out of the ring. “Thank Zeus for Johnny Dangerous,” sighs Comet. “He wasn’t about to let Royal get his licks on his partner. “Perhaps not,” replies Riley, as Todd and Megan help Landon back up the ramp, “but I think that he managed to send a message to Wild and Dangerous there. They have to titles that the Unnamed want, and Royal and Maddix are the two that intend to get them. I think that the Tag Team Champions just found themselves some new challengers, if they’re even man enough to face them!” “I have no doubt that they will be,” replies Comet, as Johnny helps Wildchild back to his feet. “If Todd Royal and Landon Maddix want to look for a challenge in the tag team division, they won’t have to look very far! The best team in the business today is in the ring right now, and they’re not likely to back down from these rookies! We could find out whether or not they’re up to the challenge sooner than you think!” Royal and Maddix backpedal their way up the ramp, never taking their eyes off of the Tag Team Champions, who return their stares with equal intensity… As we: FADE OUT Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 (edited) Backstage, Commissioner Stevens is quietly enjoying his nightly cappuccino when suddenly… *BOOOOOM* …his office door flies open, slamming off the wall. Stevens looks to the doorway, and is quite shocked to see Alan Clark standing there, a look of disgust on his face. (Alan) Where…is…Thugg!? (Stevens) He’s fired. Gone. He has no concern over the lives of others and as Commissioner I can not tolerate that kind of behavior in my lockerroom or in my ring. (Alan) Fired? You have to be kidding me! (Stevens) I can assure you that I’m not. (Alan) But I wanna kick his ass! Stevens looks shocked at Clark’s resquest, so shocked in fact that he falls out of his chair in fits of laughter, holding his sides and almost crying. (Alan) This is not a joke. Stevens’ laughter slows to a stop and he looks around the corner of his desk at Clark. (Stevens) It’s not? (Alan) NO! (Stevens) Are you sure? Am I on candid camera? (Alan) NO! I never get any respect around here…and Thugg calling me his bitch is not something I take kindly to. I don’t care how big that freak is! (Stevens) Well you sure seem to have gotten into the caffeine this morning. You should take a cold shower or something. (Alan) What? I don’t think you understand…I…want…Thugg…NOW! (Stevens) Seriously, you have to be joking. That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. Besides, there is no way the SWF could pay for your funeral arrangements. Do you know how much it costs to bury separate body parts? You would need like five caskets. I can’t condone that at all, and like I said before – he’s fired. (Alan) Re-instate him! (Stevens) I’m not going to hire him back just so you can meet God, okay. He’s a busy man and I don’t need to add to his troubles. (Alan) Do you still think this is a joke? (Stevens) As a matter of fact…I do. (Alan) Well stop thinking and start re-instating! (Stevens) The only way I would ever re-instate him would be if I really did stop thinking. Now, please…I understand your concerns and I am sorry that he attacked you. But let it go. He’s gone now. (Alan) I’m not going to let it go! Alan Clark moves up, getting right in the Commissioner’s face. (Alan) I want you to find Thugg…and tell him that I am going to kick his ass. (Stevens) If you do not step away from me this instant…you will be joining Thugg on his trip to the unemployment line. Alan stares into the Commissioner’s eyes for a moment, and slowly backs away toward the door. (Alan) Fine. Whatever you say. If you don’t want to give me what I ask for… Alan Clark steps out the door and the camera follows into the hallway as he closes the door. …I’ll just have to take matters into my own hands. Edited February 12, 2004 by Grand Slam Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 FADE IN As we return from commercial, we find Ben Hardy standing backstage with Wild and Dangerous. “I’m standing backstage with the Tag Team Champions, Wild and Dangerous,” says Hardy. “And Wildchild, we all saw that attack in the ring by Todd Royal after your successful Cruiserweight Title defense against Landon Maddix. Johnny, you came down to make the save, but there appears to be a definite sense of animosity before the two of you and the two newest members of the Unnamed. Do you care to comment on what we saw tonight?” “It doesn’t take a real man to attack someone from behind,” shouts Johnny. “Just because your boy couldn’t put Dub Cee away, that’s no reason for you to sneak in like a thief in the night! If you two rooks want a piece of us, we’re not hard to find!” “If you two cowards want t’come at us face t’face, jus’ name de time an’ place, an’ we’ll show you what it takes t’be at de top of de SWF,” bellows Wildchild. “Don’ sneak around… we’re not runnin’ from you. Jus’ bring it, any place, any time…” RAAAAAH! Before the Bahama Bomber can complete his thought, Todd Royal and Landon Maddix charge from around the corner, attacking the Tag Team Champions, but Wild and Dangerous fight back, and soon the four superstars are battling toe-to-toe. A fleet of referees and road agents appear on the scene, and form a dividing line, separating the two teams… As we: FADE OUT Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 Message Forwarded From Dace59 The screaming ground in the Mellon Arena burst back into life as SWF Lockdown returns to the air. The sold out arena is already rocked from the packed card, and the cage from the HGC contenders match can still be seen hanging over the rafters. Signs of “BORING IS THE NEW HIGHSPOT!” can be seen all around the arena in support of Charlie Matthews, along with fresh waves of new Unholy Trinity banners are people in Aecas’ face paint. Comet: Welcome back to SWF Lockdown loyal Citizens. It’s been an amazing event already, and we still have more to come. Including the World Champion Va’aiga against a mystery opponent. Riley: Whoever it is, they’ll just be another skull for his collection Comet. There is no one, and I mean no one in the SWF that can take Va’aiga down. So I wouldn’t worry yourself over it. Comet: Well, that remains to be seen. Especially when Citizen Night gets his hands on the Maori Badass for the first time since his betrayal so long ago. And on his own Horrorcore terms no less. Riley: Call it whatever you want, I call it Va’aiga is going to retire with leader of the Trinity just like he did the last. That’s IF Dace makes it past John Duran tonight. Comet: We’ll have to wait to see about that Citizen Riley. And I have no doubt Dace Night plans to bring just as much hate against John Duran tonight as he will against Va’aiga. Riley: Stop kidding yourself Comet, Dace isn’t even going to make it to Va’aiga if Duran has his way. And I’m sure Duran will want the chance to get that traitor Matthews as well. Comet: Citizen Matthews is not a traitor Robert, he’s made the right choice. And you have to wonder who the mystery opponent for Va’aiga later tonight will be. Riley: Whoever it is, they’re going to get crushed and Lariated into next week. No doubt about it. Climbing into the ring, Funyon brings up his signature house mic and bellows into it.. Funyon: The following None Title contest will be for One Fall! Introducing firstly, from Kansas City, weighing in at three hundred and one pounds, the Special Enforcer for this bout, SWF ICTV Champion, Charlie ‘The Grappler’ Matthews! YYYYYYYAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! Some King of Monster kicks into life, blaring through the darkened arena, as a single spot light focuses on the top of the ramp. Striding down on his own, Charlie Matthews sets a grim smile on his face, looking around at all the fans that are now cheering for him. Climbing the apron, The Grappler glances around the arena before standing back in the corner and waiting. Comet: Citizen Matthews looks unsure about this whole situation and what the people know make of him. Hopefully he show us all he knows what to do. Funyon: From Birmingham England, weighing in at two hundred and fifty two pounds, representing the Unholy Trinity, Dace… FUCKING! Funyon: Night! RRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! Hero shreds into life as the lamp lights up under a wave of pyro blasts. Striding down the ramp in a brand new Unholy Trinity shirt, Dace spreads his arms and lets out a roar as he stands in the centre of a crowd of pyro and smoke. Climbing the ropes and throwing the horns to the fans, he grins at their cries before hoping down into the ring. Shaking Grappler’s hand and nods to him before circling the ring slowly, glaring down the entrance ramp. Riley: I KNEW it, Dace and Charlie are working together. This is all a crooked plan! It’s going to be a set up Comet! Funyon: And his opponent, accompanied to the ring by James Matheson, from Champaign Illinois, weighing in at two hundred and sixty eight pounds, The SWF Hardcore Gamers Champion, ‘The Notorious One’ John Duran!” BBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO, NO, NOTORIOUS! The words echo through the arena before breaking out into the Nu Metal strains of Synthetic as John Duran makes his way down the ramp, followed by James Matheson. Flipping off the fans as he marches down, with Matheson yelling over his shoulder to the jeering. Climbing the ring apron, The Notorious One gives both fingers to his former stable mate and sends a spitball at him. Clenching his fists and sliding out of the ring, Grappler ignores the cries of James Matheson and stands by the corner of the ring as Referee Nick Soapdish climbs into the ring. Handing the HGC Belt over to Matheson, the Unnamed member steps into the ring and stands nose to nose with the now leader of the Unholy Trinity as Soapdish calls for the bell. DING, DING, DING! YYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! Comet: Here we go Citizens. Citizen Night gets his hands on a member of the Unnamed for the first time since the Pay Per View! Riley: Well Janus did on the last show and it didn’t turn out so well Comet. I doubt this time will be any better. Even with that turncoat Charlie Matthews at ringside. Duran and Dace stand face to face, glaring into each other’s eyes, clenching and unclenching their fists slowly… SLAP! OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH! Comet: John Duran just slapped Dace Night right around the face! Turning his head back towards Duran, Dace waves him on to try it again… SLAP! OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH! Hardly flinching, Dace continues to glare into John’s eyes with a burning hatred. Rearing back for another slap, The Notorious One fakes out and slams his knee into Horrorcore’s mid section, doubling him. Duran tries to clamp on a Front Facelock, but Dace rockets back up right, throwing his arms away. Swinging out his tattooed right arm, Dace slams his elbow into Duran’s jaw and sends his staggering backwards. CRACK! YYYYYYYAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! Comet: But Citizen Dace is having none of The Notorious One’s games and elbows him right in the face! Riley: So, look at all the times Danny Williams elbowed Va’aiga in the face. It didn’t do him any good. It won’t do Dace Night any good against Duran either. Grabbing hold of the HGC Champ by the arm, Night drags his straight into a knee to the mid section, which doubles Duran over. Keeping his grip, Dace slams a section knee into Duran’s gut before blasting one, then two, then three knee strikes straight into his face, snapping his head back with each one. Shoving Duran backwards, Dace measures him for a second before smashing him off his feet with a Lariat. At ring side, The Grappler claps as the Unholy Trinity leader takes down his former team mate. YYYYYYAAAAHHHHH! Standing over The Notorious One, Horrorcore drops to one knee, driving it into Duran’s forehead, causing his body to spasm on the mat. Hauling John up into a sitting position, Dace punts a kick into the small of his spines. The sound of leather smacking off flesher echoes through the arena, as Dace drives a second kick home. OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH! Comet: Citizen Dace is taking further pages from the Danny Williams play book and it seems to be working for him. Riley: I’m sure Duran will have a thing or two to say about that is just a moment. Dragging Duran all the way back to his feet, Dace ducks his body down, sliding his shoulders into Duran’s chest an heaves him up into a Fireman’s Carry. Swinging around to face the middle of the ring, Dace tries to flip Duran off his shoulders down to the mat, but Notorious kicks his legs and manages to slide down Night’s back to the safety of his feet. Bringing his arms up under Dace’s shoulders, Notorious locks his hands into a Full Nelson. Scrambling forwards, Night lunges out and wraps his foot around the bottom rope to force a rope break. Snarling in frustration, John Duran releases the Full Nelson just so he can hammer his fist into the back of Night’s head as Matheson smiles on happily from ring side. Swinging Dace around, Duran unloads another round of right hands into his face, staggering Horrorcore against the ropes before planting a keep deep into his gut. Dragging Dace back away from the ropes, Duran smashes a knee into Night’s face, snapping his head back with a crack. With a twisted smile on his face, Notorious clamps on a Front Facelock and lifts Dace up into the air for a Suplex. Holding him for a moment before sending his crashing forwards, hanging him out to dry across the top rope. BBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Riley: See, I told you Duran would have something to say about it. Comet: Citizen Duran didn’t nail a Dragon Suplex, but he managed to score a Reverse Suplex over the ropes on the leader of the Unholy Trinity and turn the match in his favour. Riley: He just has to keep this up and keep Grappler’s nose out of his and it’ll be another victory for the Unnamed against the Unholy Trinity! Backing up into the nearest corner, Duran tells the fans where to shove their heads before charging around the ring and slamming his knee into Dace’s temple, knocking him from the ropes down onto the apron. Back into the other corner, the HGC Champ paws at the ground like wild animal, pausing only to give the middle finger to a few thousand people. Rising back to his feet on the apron, clutching his head in one hand and the ropes in the other, Dace looks around in time to see Duran charging towards him. Racing across the ring, The Notorious One swings his arm out over the ropes and smashes Dace off the apron to the floor below with a Running Forearm. SMMMACK! BBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Comet: And Duran nocks Dace down to the floor with a Running Forearm Smash. James Matheson looks to be loving every second of this. Climbing through the ropes as Soapdish starts the ten count, John Duran starts to rain down boots into Night’s head and back as he tries to curl up on the floor. Kicking Night straight in the temple to further add to the pain, Duran grins evilly. Hauling the Trinity leader to his feet, Notorious slams him face first into the security barrier. Taking the time to lean over to near by fans and flip them off. …FOUR… DURAN SUCKS! DURAN SUCKS! DURAN SUCKS! Matheson joins in, leaning over the barrier and yelling insults into Horrorcore’s face before Duran drags him back towards the ring and rolls him back in under the bottom rope. Sliding back into the ring after Dace, John rolls Horrorcore onto his back and drops his weight onto him with a lateral press. As Soapdish dives in to count the fall, Duran reaches back with his legs and hooks the bottom rope. ……ONE! OOOOOOHHHH! RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! Riley: Charlie Matthews just interfered in the match and broke up the pinfall! Someone get that man away from ring side and DQ Dace Night! Comet: Citizen Duran had his feet on the ropes and Citizen Matthews, as the Special Enforcer, removed them. Rightly so. Matheson leaps into Grappler’s face, yelling at him, as Duran turns around inside the ring and leers at his former team mate. Shrugging his shoulders, Grappler yells at Matheson to shut up and draws his arm back. The Unnamed’s manager runs around the corner and well out of the well of the reach of the ICTV Champion. Spitting in disgust and hatred at his former stable mate, Notorious turns his attention back to Dace Night… CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! RRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! ..To take three blinding Elbow Smashes to the face. Collapsing against ropes, Dace tries to shake his head out, still reeling from Duran’s earlier attacks. While John stagers backwards clutching at the side of his face. Dace tries to stagger forwards to fire off more elbows, but The Notorious One catches him with a boot to the mid section, doubling him over. Wrapping his arm around Night’s neck in a Front Facelock, John throws his weight backwards to the mat, spiking Dace with a DDT. Holding onto the Facelock and rolling through, Duran brings Night over onto his back in the middle of the ring. Wrapping both hands around Horrorcore’s throat, Duran starts to blatantly choke Dace. Soapdish dives in and starts yelling at Duran to break the choke hold. BBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOO! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FI—BBBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Comet: Citizen Duran with a blatant choke hold on Dace Night. Just taking the life out of Citizen Night. Riley: Nice to see Grappler is keeping his damn nose out of this. Duran is going what we all know he can do and that’s kicking Dace’s sorry ass. As Duran finally release the hold just before five and holds up his hands innocently to the ref and the fans, with a smirk across his face, Dace thrashes around on the mat, clutching at his throat, trying to breath. Sneering out at Charlie Matthews, Duran grabs Dace Night up from the mat, keeping him doubled over and locks his arms under Dace’s in a Double Underhook. Throwing himself backwards, John Duran plants Horrorcore face first into the mat with a Double Arm DDT. Scrambling back to his feet, Duran pauses for a moment before dropping a knee into the back of Night’s neck. Rising back to his feet, he pauses again, flipping off the fans before dropping a second knee into the back of Dace’s head. Back on his feet, Notorious backs up to the ropes and races forwards, leaping into the air and comes crashing down with a Running Knee Drop onto Horrorcore’s neck. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Rolling Dace over onto his back, Duran grabs a leg and cradles it up into a cover as Soapdish drops in to count the fall. ……ONE! ……TWO! …Kickout! YYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH! Comet: Three knee drops to the back of the head but Dace kicks out! Anger flaring across his face, Duran leaps back to his feet and pulled the dazed and wide eyed Night into a sitting position before bouncing back into the ropes and barrelling forwards, smashing his knee straight into Dace’s face and knocking right back to the mat. Diving on top of Dace, the HGC Champ makes another cover. ……ONE! ……TWO! …Kickout! YYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Wrenching Night all the way back up to his feet, the Unnamed member clamps on a tight Front Facelock and throws his weight backwards, spiking Night into the mat with a huge DDT that leaves him standing on his head for a few seconds before crumpling down into the mat. Rolling over into a cover, Duran tries again to score the pin fall. ……ONE! ……TWO! ……Kickout! RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO DACE! At ringside, Grappler joins in the chant with the fans around the arena as The Notorious One makes a string of expletive comments at them all. Wrenching a glassy eyed Unholy Trinity leader to his feet and unloading three bone jarring right hands into his face before launching him into the ropes. Bouncing into the ropes, Dace clings on for dear life as Notorious waits for him on the other side of the ring. Seeing Dace is making a cling for life, Duran launches forwards into a full speed charge straight for him, as Dace desperately throws himself forwards from the ropes… CRACK! RRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! …Drilling John Duran with a Yakuza Kick before toppling to the mat along side him. Comet: Yakuza Kick! Dace makes a desperate move to try and stop Citizen Duran’s assaults. Riley: Not as if it’s going to do him much good. Dace has taken a beating and Duran hasn’t. So Duran is going to get up first and put and end to this one right now! With both men down on the mat, Soapdish launches into a ten count… ONE! TWO! THREE! Twitching then rolling over, Duran comes up to his hands and knees before staggering back to up to his fed, cracking his neck to straighten his head out… FOUR! Before reaching down to scoop up the still dazed Horrorcore. Slamming another well favoured knee into the mid section before twisting Dace around, John slips his arms up into a Full Nelson, once again trying for a Dragon Suplex, this time in the middle of the ring, away from the ropes. Franticly slamming his elbow down into the point of Duran’s own elbow, Dace breaks free off the Full Nelson and slips behind him with a standing switch. Locking his arms in a Rear Waistlock, Dace snaps himself back on instinct alone and smashes The Notorious One’s neck into the mat with a Dangerous German Suplex. YYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! Comet: Dangerous German Suplex! Dace maybe have turned the follow of the match! As Duran slowly splays out on the mat, eyes rolled back into his head, Dace half crawls, half drags himself over to Notorious and drapes an arm across his chest as the crowd breaks into a count…. BBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOO! But stops dead and turns into a chorus of boos are they see James Matheson on the ring apron, yelling into Soapdish’s face and distracting him from the ring. The Grappler has seen enough and storms over to Matheson, yanking his legs out from under him, causing his jaw to slam of the apron. As Matheson staggers backwards, Matthews wraps his arms around the neck of his former manager in a Sleeper Hold. YYYYAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! Seeing the Special Enforcer taking care of his ringside problem, Soapdish turns back to the ring and dives to the mat to count the cover… ONE! Kickout! BBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOO! Comet: Citizen Matheson getting involved once again, but this time Citizen Matthews put a stop to it and just sent his former manager to sleepy land with that highly effective Sleeper Hold! Riley: You mean Grappler was interfering right Comet? Doesn’t matter, he still didn’t manage to cost John Duran the match. Rolling over to the ropes and using them to drag himself back up. Seeing the Unnamed member slowly stagger back to his feet, Horrorcore races in and rocks his with a short Elbow Smash to the jaw, before doubling him over and unloading a flurry of knee strikes into Duran’s face, snapping his head back with each one of them. Grabbing the now stunned Notorious by the arm, Dace launches him out for an Irish Whip but slams on the breaks and drags his straight back in. With waiting arms, Dace sweeps Duran up from his feet before sending him straight back to the mat with a ring jarring Spinebuster Slam. Stepping back and using the seconds he’s gained to take in deep breaths and straight his head out, Dace glares at the prone John Duran. Slapping his right elbow slowly, as Notorious rolls over and clambers back to his feet, Night listens out for the echoing of stomping feet as he measures up his run up… STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! ..And charging forwards, catching Duran square in the face with a jaw rock, bone snapping Running Elbow Smash that sends Duran to the mat like a bag and bricks and leaves him out cold.. Comet: Running Elbow Smash! Citizen Dace just took the Notorious One’s head clean off with that one! After all those knees to the face as well. Using Duran’s own favourite weapon against him. Riley: Hey, someone get damn EMTs out here and wake Matheson back up so he can do his legal job and stop this from going on! Diving onto Duran and grabbing his leg, pinning him down, Dace Night makes a cover… ……ONE! ……TWO! ……THHHH---NNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Riley: That’s more like it! Dace really has lost it. He cant beat anyone anymore. He won’t last very long as any sort of leader. Even of the rag tag Unholy Trinity. Pushing himself back up to his feet, Dace steadies himself in the corner, before staggering back towards Duran. The Notorious one tries to force himself up, but Dace slips his arms under Duran’s into a Double Underhook and hauls him up. Duran struggles desperately to keep himself on the mat, but a knee to the mid section followed by a second stops his attempts. Lifting Duran up from the mat, Dace Night falls backwards and spikes the Unnamed member into the mat at forty five degrees with a Defenestration. Leaving him to crumple into a heap on the mat, Dace rolls over and flops himself across John to make a cover, as Soapdish dives in to count the fall as the fans scream along… ONE! TWO! TTTTTTHHHHHHHHRRRRRREEEEEE! DING! DING! DING! YYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, here is your winner … Dace… FUCKING! Funyon: Night! Riley: What a screwjob. Duran got cheated out of this one I tell you, cheated. And Grappler attacking Matheson, stopping him from carrying out his ringside taskes! Comet: Citizen Matthews was doing his job as a Special Enforcer Robert. Picking up the still out old James Matthews, Charlie Matthews roles him into the ring as slides in after him. Helping Dace Night to his feet, Grappler raises his arm into the in victory. Leaving The Notorious John Duran splayed out on the mat, thy turn their attentions to James Matheson. Grappler slowly drags Matheson to his feet and drags him into a Standing Headscissors as Dace grins at the sight. Riley: Oh no, he’s not going to do that. He can’t do that! Some body stop him! Lifting Matheson all the way up into the air, Charlie holds him for a few seconds before sending him plummeting down into the mat with a Powerbomb that makes Matheson thrash around in spasms. YYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! FUCK YOU MATHESON! FUCK YOU MATHESON! FUCK YOU MATHESON! Comet: The Powerbomb on Citizen Matheson. And Charlie Matthews gets a measure of pay back and sets himself up even more for his World Title match. Fade Out…. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 "It's Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania! It's Wednesday Night! It's time for more S! W! F! LOCKDOOOOOOWN!" screams Comet. The Mellon Arena screams out their excitement as the camera tries to catch fan signs that it hasn't seen yet. Failing, we go back to the commentary table: "With Bobby Riley by my side, I'm CYYYYYYCLOOOOOONNNNE COOOOOOOOOOMMMEEEEEEEET!" "And I'm half deaf..." moans Riley. "You mean half deaf with EXCITEMENT! We've had a great show so far, with our first Main Event in the books. However our Commissioner and all around good-doer Mark Stevens has made it perfectly clear that the new World Champion Va'aiga needs to wrestle, and wrestle he shall! But against who?" asks Comet. "I maintain that this is completely unfair," whinges Riley, "The Maori Badass has a broken cheekbone! If that's not a reason to rest up I don't know what is... but no! No, that biased, single-minded baseball freak is still sore that his pet Champion up and left, so now we get this! How is Va'aiga supposed to prepare for this? Tell me that, mister man." WHAT'S MY NAME? The robed Champion comes through the curtain as DMX's orchestra hits, sending waves of bass through the arena and shaking the seats of the fans. A few phantom jabs and an uppercut later, Va'aiga throws off his robe behind him. James Matheson dashes through the curtain trying to catch up to his charge, but gets tangled up in the flying cape. The Champion slowly walks down the ramp as the camera looks up, catching clips of vicious hits the Maori Badass has laid on his opponents... THUMP~! *Va'aiga hitting the Stinger on Dace Night* WHACK~! *vicious lariat to Danny Williams* SPIKE~! *Silent dropped headfirst onto a steel chair via Southern Lights Bomb* "Truth be told," starts the Super Hero, "The way Va'aiga has fought lately, he might be able to manhandle and take out any man on this roster. Still, the villain has a lot to think about. Part of his mind has to be on his fight next week with Dace Night. Is he distracted? Is he all there? Is Matheson going to get stomped in the dirt like the worm he is?" Va'aiga waits until Matheson untangles himself before climbing the ring steps and walking into the ring. In the center of the ring, Funyon stands to attention and brings the microphone up to his lips. "Our final match of the night is a non-title match, set for one fall! Introducing first..." is all Funyon gets out before having the microphone ripped from his hands by the giant Maori. Va'aiga gruffly plants the stick into the hands of his manager while staring Funyon down, guiding him out of the ring with intimidation. Matheson fumbles with the microphone for a second before composing himself and directing himself at the backstage area. "Turn off the music! Turn it off!" he screams in a high pitched whine, "Thank you! First off, let me remind Mark Stevens and the rest of the booking staff of the SWF that my client was NOT prepared to wrestle tonight! Secondly, I can easily find a way to sue this company for heavy mental damages!" Boos ring out through the Mellon Arena, making the lawyer's face and even brighter shade of crimson. "My client doesn't even know who he's fighting! What kind of coward technique is this?!?!? I demand that whoever Mark Stevens chose for this obvious ploy to injure Mister Tu'ipulotu before his title defense next week should show himself, and surrender the match immediatly!" The crowd doesn't appreciate Matheson's impromptu speech, tossing out many expletives and the occasional 'Get Bent' at Va'aiga's legal counsel. "Surrender the match?" scoffs Comet, "I thought lawyers were meant to defend the law, and I am certain that the law says that eating hallucinogenic narcotics is wrong!" "Are you implying that James Matheson is high?" says Riley, incredulously. "I'm not implying, I am stating it as fact." The arena becomes awash in blue light. Electric piano plays, followed by a melodic guitar. The SmarkTron lights up blue, moving... shifting. A blue Va'aiga spins around in the center of the ring, confused at the proceedings. Matheson dives out of the ring in panic. The camera pulls back, showing the shoulder of a blue sportsjacket, moving down an outstretched arm until coming to a stop at a bare hand held out like a gun. The hand fires... BOOOOOOOM!!! Blue pyro engulfs the entrance ramp! As the fire goes out, two sillouhettes can be seen walking through the aftermath as "Risky Gamble" by Megumi Hayashibara plays over the PA system. More smoke appears, but this time it comes from the cigar held by Ann "Ichiban" Onita! Recognition dawns upon the audience who yell out and cheer for the returning star. Straightening out her navy blue jacket, she motions for her twin sister Allison Onita to come forward and lead her to the ring. "BY THE LIGHT OF ALL THAT IS JUST... IT'S ANN ONITA!" shills Comet. "Wait, wasn't she on the injured list for the last three months?" asks Riley. "Well, she isn't tonight! Your eyes aren't tricking you at home folks... that's Ichiban and she's got her eyes set squarely on the World Champion!" Funyon, having recovered his microphone, stands outside the ring and finishes his job... "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back to the SWF... from Tokyo, Japan! Weighing in at one hundred and seventy five pounds and being led to the ring by Allison Onita, she is the most decorated female athlete in SWF history... she is ANN! ICHIBAN! ONNNNNIIIIIIIIITAAAAAAAAAA!" Taking a drag from her Frost Brand Cigar, Ann follows her twin down the ramp and to the ring. Staring at the Maori Badass, Ann thoughtfully takes her cigar from her mouth and chucks it at the Champion! It rolls to Va'aiga's feet only to be crushed underneath the huge boot of the World Champion. The Maori points to Ichiban, then at the remains of her cigar. Onita smiles, disregarding the threatening message. Passing her blazer to Allison, Ann rolls underneath the bottom rope and pops up to her feet to meet her fouteen-inch taller opponent face to face. "Look at that height difference," chuckles Riley, "Forget height, Va'aiga's arm is as big as the little girl herself! I was a little worried tonight but what a dumb move on the Commissioner's part to bring back a crippled woman to soften up our Maori Badass. This will be a cake walk!" "That isn't a sound strategy, Bobbo. Many larger foes of this courageous woman have fallen prey because of that very line of thought. If you want to see Va'aiga win, you better hope he doesn't think like you!" tuts Comet. "Please, Va'aiga could crush her with one half of his brain and plan his strategy against Dace with the other. He'd probably have a quarter left to think about how he's going to celebrate tonight! I'm thinking nude oil party myself..." DING DING DING The two combatants stare at each other in the center of the ring. No movement is made for seconds... half a minute... flash bulbs twinkle in the crowd to capture the moment. Ichiban takes a step back, softly laughing and shaking her head before dashing backwards to the ropes. Ann comes back from the ropes with a flying shoulder block only to be slammed to the mat by Va'aiga's inertia. Onita rolls backwards to her feet and takes a second to dust off her button-up shirt. She waves her arms back and forth in a warm up routine before dashing to the ropes to her left. Bouncing off, she makes a second shoulder block to the Maori Badass only to end up flat on the canvas a second time. The World Champion drops and elbow but hits nothing but ring as the faster fighter rolls out of the way. Running to the ropes, Ann bounces back and hops over the downed Maori before he can get up. Va'aiga gets up to his feet but can't straighten himself up before Ichiban flips herself over his back and onto her feet. Onita rebounds off the ropes and plans for a third shoulder tackle but gets SMASHED by a vicious Lariat from the Champion! Ann drops like a sack of bricks, and Va'aiga drops onto her like a different sack of bricks for the pin... ONE! TWO! TH...NO! "Horrible start for the side of right and justice," starts Comet, "Ann obviously trying to dictate the pace of the match and use her speed against Va'aiga but the Maori smartly drops her at first chance." "That's right Comet... SMARTLY, because that's what our Maori Badass is! He's not just a beautiful bundle of muscle and sinew, he's got a brain up in there," creams Riley. "Bobbo! You've been reading that dictionary I got you for Christmas!" exclaims Cyclone. "Yeah, I thought it would be nice if I sounded all smart 'n stuff..." Va'aiga drags his opponent up to her feet, pushing her up to an upright position. Disregarding the referee's admonitions, the Maori lays a hard left cross at Ann's jaw, followed by a second.. a third... the Maori kissis his right hand and throws a big right hook to NOTHING BUT AIR! Groggy, Ichiban ducks under the final punch in the combination and steps behind the World Champion. Va'aiga turns around to get a forearm shot to the face, staggering the big man backwards. Onita flinches in surprise, shocked that her strike to the face inflicted visible damage. Ann follows with a second forearm shot, a third, a fourth to the right cheek of Va'aiga... ...before getting PUMMELED by another Lariat from the Maori Badass! "A weak, weak showing from your girlie, Comet, but Va'aiga REFUSES to let this match get out of his grasp," notes Riley. "I have to agree," starts Comet, "If Ann has to get this match moving faster, and to do that she has to avoid that villanous lariat of the World Champion." Va'aiga takes a moment to readjust his mask before reaching down and grabbing the ankles of Ichiban. With both legs spread apart, Ann can do little about the dropping headbutt to her stomach, taking the wind right out of her. The Maori Badass rises to his feet again, ignoring the crowd's jeering, and wraps one of his meaty arms around each knee of his opponent. Straightening up, Va'aiga strains to lift Ann up from a lying position to an upright one... only to SLAM HER TO THE CANVAS with a Spinebuster! The Champion takes his time to float over to Ann's side before hooking a leg and letting the official make a count... ONE! TWO! TH..... NO! "Va'aiga is acting overconfident here," begins Comet, "A typical act of a megalomaniacal... uh, maniac! If he doesn't start taking his opponent seriously, it may come up and bite him in his rear end!" "Pish posh, Cyclone! You're just trying to garner false hope for Onita here. From where I'm looking, we can simply stick a fork in this comeback by Ichiban right now. Five minutes is all it took to take poor old Ann apart," giggles Riley. Va'aiga slides around to face Ann's head and lifts her by the hair up to a seated position. The referee warns the Maori about hair pulling but the Champion ignores him. Inching up to his victim, Va'aiga wraps his huge arm around the throat of Ichiban and braces it with his other hand, locking in a reverse chin lock. The shock from lack of air jolts Ann to conciousness, flinging her arms straight up to show that she wasn't out. The official slides to Ann's side to look for a submission as Allison pounds on the mat to raise support for her twin sister. Va'aiga laughs as he tightens his hold on the woman's throat, causing her arm to dip as lock of oxygen takes hold of her body. "Reverse chin lock on Onita... Va'aiga has this woman right where he wants her," says Riley, "Stuck on the mat and not moving at all. Some surprise opponent, Mark! I hope the Commissioner is watching, because the Champion is going to take apart Dace Night next week just like he's taking apart Ann Onita!" "I don't have the power to see the future, but my sense of sight is strong and unless Ann can find a way out of this, we may be closing the show early tonight," notes Comet somberly. Allison pounds the mat outside with all her strength, screaming "LET'S GO, ANN-IE!" *slap slap slap-slap-slap*. The crowd begins to follow along, clapping with the twin's cheer... "LET'S GO AN-NIE!" *clap clap clapclapclap* "LET'S GO AN-NIE!" *clap clap clapclapclap* ...but the cheers cant bring oxygen into the woman's lungs or mind. Her arm drops further down.... down.... down.... Va'aiga tightens his grip, closing off all possiblity of life reaching her tired mind. Her arm finally rest on the mat, her body remaining still. The Champion guffaws loudly as the official lifts the woman's arm up and lets go... only to watch it drop... lower... and lower.... and hit the mat. ONE! Allison redoubles her efforts, getting the crowd to chant even louder! The Mellon arena vibrates with the cheer of: "LET'S GO AN-NIE!" *clap clap clapclapclap*! The Champions screams out to the crowd "SHE'S DONE WITH!" as the official raises up Ann's arm a second time. Just like the first time, the crowd can only watch it drop.... faster.... and faster.... and hit the mat again. TWO! "Wow, what an offensive force. 'Hardcore Queen' my ass. She only got three or four shots in before getting whipped like a government mule!" laughs Riley, "One more drop, Comet! One more drop, Mark! Are you watching Dace? This will be you in just five days!" "This is truly a sad day for all those that follow the path of Righteousness. Unless Ms. Onita can dig deep and pull out something amazing, this match is over and done with..." predicts Comet. Matheson screams at the crowd, telling them to 'shut the hell up' as they try to wake up their hero and wake her back up. The official raises Onita's arm again while Va'aiga talks trash at his unconcious opponent... "WHY SHOULD HE BOTHER? YOU'RE DONE! YOU ARE DONE!" .... whose arm gets dropped a third time. Falling, dropping... lower... and lower.... and coming RIGHT BACK UP AND BACKFISTING VA'AIGA IN THE FACE! The crowd explodes as Ann throws another backfist at the right side of the Champion's face, loosening the grip on her throat! A sharp upward strike with her elbow and Va'aiga can only move away and release the hold, allowing air to finally enter into Onita's lungs. Before she can recover, the Maori is right there and pulling her up to a standing position. Grabbing her arm, Va'aiga pulls his opponent towards him to add force to his Lariat, but Ichiban ducks the strike! Shuffling away from the Maori, Onita lets the Champion turn around before side-stepping and hitting him in the face with a Superkick! More cheers erupt from the crowd as the big man is staggered backwards, only to get hit square in the face with a second Superkick! Va'aiga leans hard against the ropes as Ichiban runs to the opposite side of the ring, rebounding and leaping high with a DropKiss! The Maori feels his balance shift from inside the ring to outside as he tumbles awkwardly over the top rope and out to the floor! "This woman is FULL OF COURAGE, Bobby!" yells Comet, caught up in the heat of the moment, "How she came up with the strength to escape that reverse chin lock, I'll never know, but Ann Onita is trying her best to prove that she belongs back in the SWF!" "A lucky twich! A spasm from lack of oxygen hits Va'aiga in just the right spot and the girl gets out. Don't call it courage, call it what it is... pure luck!" screeches an angry Riley. Allison Onita ducks out of the way as the Maori Badass tumbles overhead to the floor outside the ring. Kneeling in the center of the ring, Ann takes a well deserved breath of air, all the while keeping an eye out for her opponent on the outside. Not able to make Va'aiga out, Ann rises to her feet and sees him lying completely still on the ground. Gauging his distance, Ann takes three steps back and inhales deeply. With a skip, Onita runs to the ropes above Va'aiga and leaps over the top rope, aiming her elbow and colliding with the face of the Maori, Ann's elbow landing with force to the Champion's right cheek! "EEEEEEEEEELBOW SUUUUUUUICIDA!!!" shills Comet, "The same move that forced Va'aiga to wear that ungodly mask in the first place! Momentum has firmly swung in Onita's favor, and her ability to prepare for the match at hand can now help her take victory from the jaws of defeat!" "What utter DISRESPECT for the Champion!" screams Riley, "To even try and get me to say the name of the man who made that move famous brings bile to my throat. Ann obviously has the same mentality of that coward to even think of using that move!" "Well, the two fought many a time in the past, with Ann causing an injury to Williams' face once upon a time, the irony is not lost on THIS Super Hero!" "Irony?" asks Riley. "Look it up in that Dictionary I gave you, Bobbo" A worried Matheson sneaks the World Championship belt off the timekeeper's table and stalks closer to the two combatants. Onita gets to her feet first, slowly dragging the larger man up to his feet. Grabbing the back of the mask, Ann yanks upward and then reverses direction, slamming the Champion's face into the ring apron! The official comes to the side of the ring over the two fighters and prepares to count... ONE! Ichiban grips the mask tighter and uses her leverage to smash Va'aiga's face into the apron a second time... a third time... a fourth time! "Disqualify the bitch, ref!" screams Riley, "She's using an illegal weapon, give her the DQ and give the Champ a break!" "Illegal Weapon???" chokes Comet, "If the ring's an illegal weapon, why aren't piledrivers and spinebusters illegal? Gotcha there, Bobby!" TWO! Onita yanks up on the Champion's mask again, but the protective casing comes off in her hands! The Maori, realizing his face is exposed, rolls away from his attacker post haste. "....I hate you, Comet." "I loathe you too, Bobbo." THREE! Tossing the mask aside, Ann stalks her opponent with care. All the time, Matheson creeps closer to the side of the ring that Onita stands on, trying not to catch the attention of the referee. Ichiban grabs the back of the Champion's head, but the Maori thrusts his shoulder upward into Onita's gut. Slightly winded, Ann can do nothing as the monster lifts her up in the air on his shoulder... FOUR! ...but can suddenly react once in the air. Flicking her thumb off to the side, she catches the Champion's eye and grabs his head as gravity drops her down... SPIKING VA'AIGA TO THE CONCRETE! The crowd EXPLODES as Annie rolls over and straddles the Maori's chest. FIVE! "Wait... is that... it is!" exclaims Comet, "That slime Matheson has the World Title belt! Leave it up to a villain like him to disqualify his client just to save him from what might be the comeback of the year!" "And smart of him it would be to do so!" notes Riley, "Va'aiga really has nothing to lose in this match! Next week is a different matter altogether!" Fists rain down on the bare face of Va'aiga, as Ann takes a modicum of revenge for the earlier beating she took. Unblocked rights and left pound the Champion as pain sears every molecule above his shoulders. Behind her, Matheson rounds the corner, belt in hand... SIX! ...and rushes towards the back of Ann's head. Onita feels a blur to her side and looks, watching as her sister dashes towards Va'aiga's legal counsel, SPEARING HIM INTO THE STEEL STEPS! The official gets slightly distracted at the commotion to his right, and doesn't catch the Maori returning the favor and jamming his thumb right into Ichiban's eye! Ann rolls off as the official looks back and sees Va'aiga getting to his knees... SEVEN! "Allison makes the save for her sister, but may have caused more harm than good!" frets the Super Hero, "The villainous Maori is on his knees and he doesn't look like he wants to give Ann a Valentine's gift." "Oh, he wants to give her a Valentine's Day gift... a Valentine of PAIN!" screams Riley. Scrambling, the big man reaches out for his mask and quickly shoves it back on his face. He readjusts it just in time to catch Ichiban running towards him. Quickly, he lashes out with a fist to the gut, stopping the speedy woman in her tracks. EIGHT! Ann groans out in pain as Va'aiga takes his first opportunity in a while to get back on his feet. Rubbing his head and wincing, the Maori channels the pain into pure rage, pulling Onita into knee after knee after knee to the stomach, driving every inch of air out of her lungs. With a yell that could only be described as a war cry, Va'aiga grabs Ann by the hair and drives her face right into the ring apron! NINE! Hearing the official for the first time, the Champion quickly throws the lighter woman back into the ring. He follows her in immediatly and deliberatly rises to feet. The crowd gets behind the Onita inside the ring as the one outside gets back to her feet and tries to sort out the situation. The Maori waits, waving for his opponent to get to her feet and taunting her... "C'MON BITCH, YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME?" screams the Champion, "GET UP! GET YOUR ASS UP AND TAKE THE BEATING YOU ASKED FOR!" Angry, Ichiban rises to her feet. Once on her feet however, she's immediatly dropped to the canvas again by a HUGE LARIAT! Taking no time at all, Va'aiga drags Onita back up to her feet and gives her another huge clothesline before dropping down and covering the woman with one hand... ONE! TWO! ...only to pick the woman back up with the other hand! Chuckling, the Maori Badass drives his fist into the woman's unprotected face over and over again, the official counting to four before the Champion breaks off his attack. "There was hope for the Just and the Right but Va'aiga proceeds to slow down the pace of the match back to a speed he's more comfortable with," notes Comet, "And that is NEVER good for his opponents." "All this justice and righteousness... they seem to mean nothing when we have a biased Commissioner with a grudge against the Champion!" cries Riley, "Sure, Va'aiga looks to have this match back in hand but who knows how much damage Ann did to him? In a match he wasn't even supposed to be in! No matter what, the world champion has to end this match now!" Floating over to his opponent, Va'aiga rises to his feet and roughly plants Ann's head between his legs. Screaming at the jeering crowd, the Maori flips Ann up to his shoulders and DRIVES HER TO THE MAT WITH A POWERBOMB! Allison cheers on her sister from the outside but can't seem to reach her ears. His face contorted into rage, Va'aiga drags Ann by the hair to a doubled over position and plants her into another standing headscissors. He flips Ann up onto his shoulders... but Ichiban finds the strength to punch the Champion in the face! Va'aiga winces, giving Ann enough time to land a second punch, a third punch... until the Maori sits out and POWERBOMBS HER AGAIN! The Champion hesitates, shaking the pain from his head before rolling over and hooking a leg for the pin... ONE! TWO! THREE...... NOOOOOOOO! "HOW DID SHE KICK OUT OF THAT?" screams Riley, "She took, not one, but TWO huge powerbombs! And with all those problems she's had with her ribs, you'd think she would be crippled all over again!" "You seem to underestimate Ichiban again, Bobbo," tuts Comet, "Just like I told you earlier, you can't write off this courageous woman at any point! However, she needs to get this match back in her hands in order to have any chance of winning her return match..." Va'aiga sits up, showing his first signs of frustration. Climbing up to his feet, the Champion looks around for inspiration to finish his opponent off. His eyes stop at the top rope of the near turnbuckle and a slight smile cracks his face. Scooping up Ichiban's wrist, he drags his opponent like a rag doll towards the corner... "What does this villian have in mind this time?" asks Comet, "When you think of Va'aiga, a high flyer is not what you picture." "No, but a huge power move off the top rope does come deliciously to mind," muses Riley. Allison Onita tosses a few choice expletives towards the Maori Badass, who simply gives the twin the finger in response. Ignoring the jeers he just ignited from the crowd, Va'aiga backs up to the corner and begins climbing the turnbuckles backwards. Upon reaching the second rope, the Maori reaches down and scoops up the lightwieght from the mat into a body slam position, holding her across his chest. "A power move not unlike... a SUPER MAORI SLAM? Huh? HUH?" asks Riley, enjoying the show. Bracing himself on the second rope, Va'aiga is just about ready to jump off and slam his opponent into oblivion until he hears a faint sound. Distracted, he looks around but doesn't see where the sound could have come from until he hears it again... from in front of him.... "...hey.... fuckhead...." ...followed by a fast elbow into the Maori's face! Va'aiga tries to shake off the attack but Ann follows it with a second, a third, a fourth loosens his grip on her as the crowd begins to get back into the match! A fifth elbow nearly turns his mask around on his head as Ann feels the bottom drop out from under her. Dropping roughly to the canvas,.Ichiban scrambles to her feet as a raging Champion readjusts his protective mask. Mustering up all her strength and speed, Ann rushes up the turnbuckle and stands over her opponent on the top rope. Reaching around Va'aiga's neck, Ichiban jumps back, dragging the Maori's head with her until she SLAMS IT INTO THE MAT! Va'aiga falls flat on his back, as his opponent rolls off to the side of the ring until coming to a stop. "SHE AVOIDS DANGER AGAIN!" screams Cyclone Comet, "What a super Facebuster from the top rope! The woman must have some type of sensor like a certain Man-like Spider I know well, as Ann Onita finds her way out of yet another critical situation to buy herself some time, but can she take advantage?" "Where is Matheson???" asks Riley, "Is he still out? Someone get him up and distract her or something! Someone, anyone!" Both fighters lay on the mat, motionless. Allison pounds the mat, restarting the cheers for her sister from the crowd. The official stands in between the two valiant warriors, beginning his count... ONE! No movement from either fighter, but that doesn't prevent Allison from playing cheerleader with the best of her ability... "LET'S GO, AN-NIE!" *clap clap clapclapclap* TWO! The echo of the crowd shake the ring inside the arena, and the words slowly make their way to Onita's brain. She moves her hand up slighly, catching the feel of cable against her skin... THREE! Va'aiga takes a deep breath, and another, before realizing that the bitch escaped again. His brain is on fire... or is it his face? He moves his massive arm up and over his chest but his body can't find a way to follow.... FOUR! Ichiban reaches upward, skipping the first rope in favor of the middle rope and grasps it tightly. Drawing deep from her reserves of strength she tries to pull upward and lift herself off the mat... FIVE! The Champion swings his arm a second time and this time can find the will to negate his body's inertia. Slowly he rolls over onto his side, and then onto his stomach so he can push himself upwards... SIX! One arm can't do it alone for Ichiban, but her other arm finds her way up to the middle rope and pulls hard, allowing Ann to get up to a seated position and place her feet flat on the mat... SEVEN! Va'aiga draws upon his physical training, pushing hard against the flat mat and lifting his body up off the mat. His face still feels like it's on fire but his mind ignores the agony and concentrates purely on standing up... EIGHT! Ichiban pushes with her feet, pulls with her legs, and finds herself clumsily on her feet! The official checks her stance and calls off the count just as Va'aiga pulls himself to an upright position himself. Leaning back on the ropes, Onita launches herself towards her opponent blindly. His mind clearing, Va'aiga throws out the first strike he can think of, lashing out with his arm for another Lariat. Ann is ready however, ducking under and taking three steps before putting on the brakes. Expecting another bounce off the ropes, the Maori takes his time to turn around and steps right into a jumping roundhouse from Onita! Landing on her feet, Ann lashes out with a kick to the left knee, followed by a hard roundhouse to the ribs, and finishing her combo with a spinning reverse roundhouse to the face! "The Champion is staggered again!" shills Comet, "Come on Ann! You can do it! Finish him off now!" "Wait, what happened to unbiased commentary, Comet?" asks a miffed Riley. "At this point, I need to counter your immense drag factor in the other direction, just hush now and eat your crow like a good boy!" Running to the ropes, Ann flies as fast as her feet can make her as she rebounds and dives shoulder first into the big man's ribs! Softened by Ichiban's kicks, the pain riddled brain of Va'aiga reacts instictively and doubles over to protect himself. Rushing to her feet Ann locks her opponent in a quick headscissors and locks her arms under and through the Champion's. She sucks in a deep breath and stares straight at the audience ahead of her, who scream encouragement for the inevitable! With a scream and a leap, Ann drags Va'aiga's head upwards and lets gravity do it's damage, SPIKING THE CHAMPION FACE FIRST TO THE MAT! The crowd bursts into applause as Ann struggles to roll the huge Maori over onto his back... "DAYBREAK PEDIGREE!" screams Comet, "Is it over? Is this the end for the villanous Va'aiga?!?" With great effort, Ann rolls Va'aiga's leg up, hooking it for the cover.... ONE! TWO! ... THHHHHHRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DING DING DING! "Risky Gamble" rumbles through the Mellon Arena once more as the official quickly raises Ichiban's hand in victory! "Your winner!" screams Funyon, straining to be heard over the immense noise from inside the arena, "At a time of eighteen minutes and fifty four minuts, via pinfall..... ANN! ICHIBAN! OOOOOONIIIIIIIIITAAAAAAAAAAAA!" "What a back-and-forth battle by these two, but the willpower and strength of Ann Onita prove her to belong in the SWF, taking a non-title win over the World Champion!" says Comet, happily. "If by 'willpower' you mean 'having a week head-start on her opponent in the planning department' then yes, but frankly I say this stinks!" screams Riley, "I bet Mark Stevens showed the bitch Va'aiga's match versus Danny Williams just so she knew what and where to attack! While Va'aiga had no clue, repeat, NO CLUE WHO HE WAS FACING! This wasn't fair from the start and you KNOW it, Comet." Allison Onita starts to roll inside the ring, but stops and goes back to the still knocked out Matheson. Reaching down beside him, she picks up the belt on the ground and rolls into the ring with it. Helping Ann to her feet, Allison raises her sister's hand in victory while holding the World Championship belt across her waist with the other. The crowd cheers loudly for the twin pair inside the ring as the upbeat music continues to pump out the PA system. "Don't be fooled," notes Comet, "This was a non-title match, Va'aiga is still World Champion. But you have to wonder... is this a look at things to come? Ann could certainly make an argument now to face the World Champion down the road, whoever that is. We can't look to far ahead however, because we have a HUGE card coming up next time, with an actual Title Match between Dace Night and Va'aiga! And what will Ann Onita have in store next week, or for that matter... Charlie Matthews? Things are brewing, but don't fret True Believer! We'll be back in five days, so until then.... GOODNIGHT!" The last sight from the broadcast of SWF Lockdown, is that of Ann Onita holding the World Championship. Looking into it, she smiles at the reflection then wistfully drops it onto the true World Champion. She then points towards the belt... then sharply at her chest as the crowd cheers her on..... SWF Lockdown © 2004 - White Apple Productions Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 12, 2004 The fans die down after an amazing main event, and the scene is immediately cut to the outside. HVT is found exiting through the loading entrance, where the very same lanky man stands. “Fuckin’ Mark…he’s gonna pay…oh, he’s so gonna pay,” HVT says to himself. He sees the lanky man and gives him a hard look… (HVT) – Yo…where’d you park my ride cuz? (Man) – Uhhhh…it’s over there in the first row. Uhhh..but…ummm…someone came out and… (HVT) – Shut up yo! I ain’t even tryin’ to hear what you gotta say. I just lost my fuckin’ job…and someone’s gonna get they ass whooped over this shit. You want is to be you? Didn’t think so. HVT storms away from the man and walks outside to the first row of cars. He sees his Cadillac parked near the end of the row, and he walks to it, but then he stops suddenly… …when he sees his gold Cadillac virtually destroyed! (HVT) – What the fuck?!? He walks around his car and finds his front windshield shattered, all of his side windows broken, and his rear window cracked and splintered. He grimaces as he finds his hood has been smashed in and his rear bumped dislodged. He screams out, “FUCK”, when he sees that each one of his tires has been slashed, and then he lets out his loudest roar when he sees that his 28” rims are lying next to his car, each stomped nearly flat. (HVT) – Who…what?? Finally, Thugg finds as he looks inside his car, on the front seat, an index card. He reaches in and picks up the card, reads it, and immediately throws it to the ground. Enraged, HVT storms away, leaving his battered car in the parking lot as he heads for the street. The camera, however, does not follow, and instead zooms in on the index card. Welcome to the SWF. You are officially my bitch. FIN Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
