the.weej 0 Report post Posted February 17, 2004 Card: Falls Count Anywhere Match Toxxic v. Manson v. Mike Van Siclen So far, the Commissioner has been impressed with Toxxic's heart and skills, but he needs to know if the kid has what it takes to push through pain and adversity to make it in the dog-eat-dog world of the SWF. Thus, a brutal match with a brutal opponent and a wily veteran. Singles Match for the #1 Contendership to the SWF United States / Junior League Championship "Coyote" Coy West v. Jimmy "The Demon" Liston Two up and comers in the SWF get a shot to go after the gold at From the Fire. Nothing more, nothing less. Hey, every match doesn't have to have three paragraphs of explaination. Tag Team Match for the #1 Contendership to the SWF Tag Team Championship "The House of Todd" (Todd Royal & Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix) v. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins & Jacob Helmsley Special Guest Commentator: "The Barracuda" Johnny Dangerous Four newly arrived JLers will set out to prove that they have what it takes to be the next Tag Team Champions and earn their place in the honor roll of SWF Champions. Singles Match for the SWF United States / Junior Leage Championship Sacred © v. Insane Luchador One of the longest serving JLers gets a shot at SWF gold once again. And this time he faces off against one of the greatest champions in Wrestling History, the man himself, Sacred. But the Sacred One went to the wire against Spike Jenkins just a few short days ago on Lockdown. Will he hold off the JL legend or will IL start a new legend tonight? Singles Match for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship WildChild © v. Alan Clark Alan Clark won a hard-fought match against the bright new start Toxxic to earn this match, meanwhile, on the same show, WildChild held on to his shiny new title belt in a four-star match against Landon Maddix. As promised, this match happens on Smarkdown!! Singles Match for the Intercontinental-Television Championship Charlie "Grappler" Matthews © v. Annie "Ichiban" Onita On Lockdown, The Grappler appeared to have turned over a new leaf. But the Commish has seen this before and is wary of the recently-booted Unnamed member. So tonight he is giving him a chance to prove himself. But Annie is no token opponent. The Hardcore Legend made her triumphant return to the SWF by pinning the World Champion in a non-title match on Lockdown and is looking to get some SWF gold back around her waist, so the Commissioner is giving the last active Carnie the chance. Main Event Barbed Wire Cell Timebomb Deathmatch for the SmartMarks Wrestling Federation World Heavyweight Championship Va'aiga © v. Dace Night Va'aiga dropped the leader of the Unholy Trinity on his noggin for daring to think he could keep the Maori Badass from the World Title. Dace Night, the new leader of the Trinity, has revenge on his mind. They have decided to settle this in a most unorthodox and dangerous match. The Commissioner has clear misgivings about letting this match happen, but it is going to happen. May God have mercy on them... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted February 17, 2004 The arena plunges into darkness, only relieved by multi-coloured strobes. Prong’s “Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck” hits over the PA system and the fans react by booing as Manson comes out of the entranceway. Raising one fist above his head he strides down the ramp, eyes fixed on the ring. “Ladies and gentlemen, this match is scheduled for one fall and is A FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE, TRIPLE THREAT MATCH!” Funyon booms as the fans gleefully anticipate the action about to unfold. “Introducing first, from Denver, Colorado, he weighs in at 240lbs... MAAANNNSON!!!” “Look at that man Comet,” Riley demands as Manson settles in a corner of the ring, waiting for his opponents. “Focused, determined...” “Hairy,” Comet interjects. “Not everywhere.” “I don’t want to know!” the superhero protests. “Look at his head, Comet! He’s bald!” Even as the SWF announce team bicker over Manson’s folical tendencies the melodic opening notes of Andrew W.K.’s “Ready To Die” ring out in the arena to a crowd pop. BOOM! BOOM! BOOOOOOM! Three blasts of white pyro go off and Mike Van Siclen emerges from behind the curtain, grinning as he makes his way to the ring and slapping hands with some of the fans who line the entrance way. “And his opponents;” Funyon’s voice fills the Bryce Jordan Center again, “First, from Harrison, Illinois, weighing in at 23lbs, “The Spectacle”, MIIIIIKE... VAAAAN... SICLEN!!!” “This match is Van Siclen’s first regular match since his loss to Tom Flesher on the Smarkdown preceding the Clusterfudge,” Comet notes, “and the veteran has got to be looking to make an impact here.” “There’s no way you can call this a regular match!” argues Riley. “It’s a Falls Count Anywhere with three men involved! All rules are going to go out the window, there will be no alliances, and- what are Manson and Van Siclen doing?” Sure enough, in the ring the long-haired Van Siclen is talking to the stockier Manson, pointing back towards the entranceway. As the music changes for the third and final time, the words “Prepare To Be Proved Wrong” flash up onto the Smarktron and Lostprophets’ “We Still Kill The Old Way” blasts out from the speakers a horrible suspicion crystallises in Comet’s mind... “Robert, I do believe Manson and Van Siclen intend to ambush the rookie and take him out of the game early on!” “You know, for once Comet I do believe you’re right!” laughs Riley as the straight-edger’s pyro goes off and Manson and Van Siclen stare side-by-side over the top rope. “These two sly dogs are going to make sure that their odds of winning go up by a good 17%, and it’s excellent strategy!” However Riley speaks too soon as the crowd pop louder still, not for the entrance of Toxxic through the smoke of his pyro, but because the rookie has emerged from the crowd and slid quietly into the ring behind his two opponents... carrying a ladder! “No! Manson, turn around! Turn around!” Riley screams, but the bearded grappler can’t hear him. He does however hear when Toxxic sticks two fingers in his mouth and whistles: WHEEE-EEEEP!!! Both men whip around at the unexpected sound, only to see a ladder flying horizontally for their heads! Reacting quickly both men catch it before impact - but Toxxic takes a quick two-step run-up and launches into the air, extending both feet to hit a rung with a flying dropkick! Balanced as they are against the ropes the impact sends both men tumbling over the top! “Manson and Van Siclen just got ladder-kicked out of the ring!” exclaims a delighted Cyclone Comet as Manson and MVS land hard outside with the ladder atop them. “That, Robert, is true justice as the treacherous devils got what they deserved, although to be honest I’d expect more of Citizen Van Siclen.” “That’s cheating!” is an apoplectic Riley’s only response. “I don’t care if there are no rules, Toxxic should have come out and got his backside whipped rather than jumping them from behind!” *DING! DING!* Taking one look at his fallen adversaries Toxxic backs off towards the far ropes, then as MVS and Manson start to get to their feet the rookie charges across the ring, looking to fly over the top rope - but Van Siclen and Manson move! However Toxxic catches himself at the last moment, balances on the top rope and backflips into the ring before looking at an imaginary watch... stroking his chin and pointing into the middle distance... and placing both hands on his hips and giving the fans a cheesy grin! “CATALOGUE POSES~!” shouts Comet. “Toxxic playing to the fans here on the Penn State University Campus.” “And about to receive sweet punishment!” Bobby Riley yells. As Toxxic turns away from the particular section of crowd he’s been looking at Manson and Van Siclen slide back into the ring from opposite sides and proceed to charge at the overconfident rookie. Manson levels him with a running back elbow, and Van Siclen takes the opportunity to bury some boots in his midsection. Manson then picks the Brit up, hoists him high into the air... and spinebusters him down WITH AUTHORITY! Before the rookie has even stopped bouncing Van Siclen hauls him to his feet again, crosses Toxxic’s arms over his own face and then drops him down with the Red Light! “STOP!” PAUSE PAUSE PAUSE PAUSE PAUSE “Continue!” screams Van Siclen, but even as the syllables leave his throat Manson breaks the momentary truce between the two more experienced grapplers by levelling him with a Yakuza kick, to the disapproval of the fans in attendance. Seeing his opportunity Manson dives onto the prone form of Toxxic, looking to end this thing early... ONE! TWO! TH-kickout! With irritation showing in his dark eyes Manson hauls Toxxic to his feet, only to bend the rookie double, hoist him high into the air and powerbomb him back down to the mat! “Manson really breaking out the power moves here,” Comet calls from the commentary position as Manson goes down to cover Toxxic again. “And this flurry of offence could be enough to win it early!” ONE! TWO! THRE- Broken up by Van Siclen with a boot to the head! Manson starts to rise to his feet, one hand clutching at his head where Van Siclen’s boot made contact, but the Spectacle gives his opponent no time to recover by hooking him and taking him down again with a vicious swinging neckbreaker. Maintaining his grip around Manson’s neck Van Siclen rolls to his feet again, this time taking the Colorado native over with a snap suplex. Now firmly in control of his opponent Van Siclen again pulls him up, positions himself behind Manson, pauses to acknowledge the Penn State fans... and drives Manson’s neck back and down into his knee! “Crossface Black!” Riley screams as Manson writhes in pain, clutching his neck. “That move should be outlawed Comet! Manson might not have proper use of his neck for weeks now!” “I don’t like to think why that might bother you,” Comet responds, “but now it’s Citizen Van Siclen’s turn to attempt an early pinfall!” ONE! TWO! THR-kickout! “It’s gonna take more than that to keep Manson down,” Riley breathes, relieved, “but someone needs to do something about this!” “And that someone appears to be Mike Van Siclen, Robert, as he’s breaking off his offence to leave the ring for some reason...” Van Siclen slides under the bottom rope and strides over to the timekeeper’s position. Uttering a terse “Move!” he shoves the SWF official aside, picks up a steel chair and, to Bobby Riley’s audible dismay, heads back towards the ring. “There are no rules!” Comet shouts over Riley’s wails of protest. “And Van Siclen is well within his rights to bring a weapon into play, even one as unforgiving as that steel chair. I must say I’d prefer to see Citizen Van Siclen use his great wrestling skills to win this match, but he hasn’t built up his reputation of being a ring general by failing to make use of whatever chances fall his way.” Van Siclen seems prepared to create his own chances and readies himself in a manner reminiscent of a baseball batter as Manson finally staggers to his feet once more... CRACK! ...and brings the steel chair down HARD on Manson’s bald pate! As the bearded man crashes back to the mat Van Siclen raises the chair in salute to the fans, who in typical bloodthirsty fashion are making some noise for the first man to bring the Hardcore! “M-V-S!” “M-V-S!” “M-V-S!” Responding to the fans with “That’s what I said!”, Van Siclen again turns towards Manson and seems unable to believe his eyes as the former J-Leaguer is struggling to his feet once more, battered but as yet unbowed. With a shrug Van Siclen rams the chair into Manson’s gut, drops it on the mat beneath him, snares his opponent in a front facelock and brings his arm crashing round to send Manson back down again with the CODE RED ONTO A CHAIR! “Dear God!” exclaims a shaken Cyclone Comet. “Mike Van Siclen is wasting no time in trying to put Manson away here, eh Robert? Robert, adopting a foetal position and whimpering won’t help Manson...” Rolling the now-bleeding Manson onto his back Van Siclen sprawls across him for the pin... ONE! TWO! THR-kickout! Shock is written across the face of Mike Van Siclen as Manson’s left shoulder clears the canvas to stop the count! Deciding that maybe his casual cover was the cause of this misfortune Van Siclen hooks the far leg and rolls into his pin this time, attempting to put all of his 231lbs squarely onto the bearded wrestler’s shoulders... ONE! TWO! THRE-kickout! Once more Manson manages to lift a shoulder clear of the mat, and this time Van Siclen is clearly frustrated by his opponent’s refusal to quit. Muttering to himself the Spectacle again breaks off his attack to go to the outside, but instead of garnering another weapon he heads straight for the Spanish announce table. Clearing it of debris and monitors he throws a glance back at Manson, who is on all fours but doesn’t look capable of mounting a comeback anytime soon. Seizing Manson’s leg Van Siclen drags him to the outside, fires off a couple of rights to keep the momentum in his favour and drapes the Colorado native’s body across the prepared desk as the Spanish announcers scatter in anticipation of what comes next. “If he puts Manson through that table he’ll be finished!” cries Bobby Riley. “Stop the match, ref!” “And since this IS Falls Count Anywhere, the moment Manson goes through the table Van Siclen can pin him, without needing to bother about returning to the ring!” Comet responds. “He knows what he’s doing - hang on a second...” Hearing the crowd popping despite the fact that he’s done nothing spectacular in the last five seconds Van Siclen turns back towards the ring - and gets flattened by a 218lb human missile, as Toxxic returns to the match by hitting a suicide dive over the top rope! “Thank you Toxxic! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Bobby Riley raves as the straight-edger pushes himself to his feet, staggering in a circle and waving at the fans. “I knew you weren’t so bad after all! I knew you’d save Manson- what’s he doing, Comet? WHAT’S HE DOING NOW!?” Catching sight of Manson still draped over the Spanish announce table Toxxic’s lopsided grin widens, and the rookie glances upwards at the ring ropes. As the crowd pops once more he vaults up to the apron, then to the top rope, sailing backwards in a picture-perfect Springboard Moonsault that brings him down on Manson’s stocky frame... CRUNCH!! “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “Springboard moonsault onto Manson, and the match could be Toxxic’s now!” Comet yells as Riley covers his eyes and whimpers. “After the beating Manson took at the hands of Van Siclen he might well stay down - but it’s Van Siclen’s who covers!” As Toxxic rolls on the arena floor clutching his ribs after the impact Van Siclen recovers enough to hook Manson’s leg in the wreckage of the table and force Nick Soapdish into an awkward position to count... ONE! TWO! THREE- broken up by Toxxic! “Van Siclen was within a whisker of winning!” Comet calls, alliterating with no concern for the danger. “And now the veteran and the rookie are exchanging blows here in front of us!” Blocking a right hand from Toxxic Van Siclen goes on the offensive, peppering his adversary with rights of his own before taking a step back and launching spinning wheelkick at the rookie’s head. Toxxic ducks, and as Van Siclen staggers, thrown off by his own momentum, the Brit fires back with a right - a left - a right - a left - he winds up like a pitcher and spins round to deliver the Discus Clothesline... but he spins too far as Van Siclen ducks in his turn! As Toxxic’s momentum carries him round the Spectacle wastes no time in grasping his waist from behind and delivering a devastating backdrop! Finally with time to assess the situation Van Siclen glances at Manson - still down, but starting to move - and then at Toxxic, holding his head on the arena floor. Figuring that it can’t hurt Van Siclen rolls into another cover... ONE! TWO! THREE-kickout! Looking up at referee Soapdish with a “Well, it was worth a try” expression Van Siclen grabs Toxxic by the hair and brings the rookie painfully to his feet. Looking around for inspiration he sights the unforgiving guardrail that surrounds the ring, and taking hold of Toxxic’s arm he Irish whips the rookie straight at it. Just as Toxxic reaches the rail, however, the Brit makes a jump to the top of the guard rail itself, then leaps back at Van Siclen and take him down with a clothesline! “Role Reversal!” Comet calls. “Toxxic hits a timely counter there, but Van Siclen has had the majority of the offence in this match so far, and he’s regaining his feet as well-” “And here comes Manson!” screams Bobby Riley, as the bleeding man from Denver launches back into the fray, taking down both Toxxic and Van Siclen with a double clothesline. “This is true justice, Comet!” Manson raises his head to the rafters and unleashes a roar of anger as both his opponents start to regain their footing, shaking their heads in a futile effort to clear them, but it’s now the former J-Leaguer’s match as he seizes Toxxic by the scruff of the neck and the waist of his pants and sends the rookie smashing headfirst into the steel ring steps! CRASH!! With one adversary temporarily out of the way Manson focuses his rage on the Spectacle, unleashing vicious knife-edge chops on Van Siclen’s torso with the fans “Whoo!”-ing along before burying a knee deep into his opponent’s stomach. The very same guardrail that Toxxic vaulted off moments ago catches Manson’s eye and he launches Van Siclen at it, and this time the intended result is achieved as Van Siclen arrives back first! SMASH!! Without a moment’s hesitation Manson presses his advantage, slamming Van Siclen’s head into the rail. Partly from the impact and partly from a half-conscious desire to escape his persecutor Van Siclen’s body slides over the guardrail and into the crowd, and with a backwards glance at the form of Toxxic Manson follows. “Both these men are usually quite happy to keep their action in the ring,” Comet says as Manson grabs Van Siclen by the hair and takes him deeper into the crowd, “but Manson seems to have the edge in the hardcore situation we’re seeing now, and by taking the match further away from Toxxic there is less chance that he will be able to arrive in time to break up a pin.” “Let this be a lesson to all those who think that Manson is stupid or single-minded,” agrees a now far calmer Bobby Riley. “The man deserves respect not only for his ability to take punishment and dish it out, but also his brains too. In this environment I confidently predict that even the Spectacle Mike Van Siclen won’t last long!” Riley’s prediction appears to be being borne out as Manson keeps up the assault on a dazed Van Siclen, pummelling the taller man with brutal right hands and vicious chops as they head towards one of the access doors that leads into the backstage area, the crowd parting as the brawl comes through. Winding up against a wall Van Siclen fires off a kick to Manson’s midsection, but it only staggers the bearded wrestler for a moment. With a faint gleam of hope in his eyes Van Siclen tries it again - only to have his leg caught by a suddenly grinning former Hate Machine! As Van Siclen desperately tries to maintain his balance Manson draws back his own leg... CHING!! ...and fires his foot straight into Mike Van Siclen’s happysack! As the Spectacle’s eyes bulge Manson hooks him in a front facelock, throws Van Siclen’s arm over his neck and hoists him in the air for what appears to be a vertical suplex - but then the man from Denver brings Van Siclen back down the same way and sits out, delivering the devastating front suplex known as the Mindbender ON THE CONCRETE! Rolling Van Siclen onto his back, Manson hooks the leg as Nick Soapdish scrambles to get into position... ONE! TWO! THREEEE- Broken up by a table!? “And Toxxic announces his return to the match again, this time by breaking up Manson’s pin with a table!” Comet calls. “The rookie found that under the ring and it just had the reach necessary for him to break the pin as he charged up there!” “The guy’s a moron,” Riley opines. “If he hadn’t have been carrying the table, he could have run faster! And what’s wrong with a chair?” Riley’s question is answered as Toxxic continues to ram the table into Manson, driving the former Hate Machine backwards. At the third attack however Manson grabs the table end intended for his midsection, and as the rookie struggles to free his weapon Manson reverses, sending the wood slamming into Toxxic’s ribs instead. As the Brit releases his hold and doubles over wheezing for breath Manson raises the table high above his head and brings it down hard! CRACK!! The table survives the impact but Toxxic’s skull is not so lucky, the combination of momentum and Manson’s strength buckling the straight-edger’s knees and sending him crumpling to the floor. With a grunt of satisfaction Manson drops the table and turns back to his unfinished business with Van Siclen, only to find his legs gripped and hoisted into the air! Struggling to keep Manson positioned correctly, his chest resting head downwards against the Spectacle’s spine, a momentarily rejuvenated Van Siclen smiles grimly at the thought of payback for Manson’s earlier ballshot... AND SITS OUT, DROPPING MANSON RIGHT ON HIS FUCKING HEAD!!! “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “Van Slaminator on the concrete!” Comet gasps, as Riley’s wails reach an inhuman volume. “Surely... SURELY not even Manson can get up from that!” ONE! TWO! THREEEEEEEEE- broken up by Toxxic! Brains still scrambled from the table shot Toxxic JUST managed to land a baseball slide dropkick onto MVS, causing the pin to be broken. However it doesn’t slow Van Siclen as he regains his feet, clamps his hands around the rookie’s skull and sits out once more, this time delivering a vicious jawbreaker! With Toxxic on the ground clutching his face Van Siclen almost casually grabs one leg in each hand and wrenches them apart. “Make a wish!” Comet yells as Toxxic clutches his groin. “Citizen Van Siclen is really stepping up his game here, but in the process he’s showing a complete disregard for human wellbeing! I have the utmost respect for Commissioner Stevens, but I think this match may have been a mistake! Toxxic is surely not ready for this environment and it was unlikely that this match could have passed without some major injury - and it looks to have been Manson who was the unlucky one!” “Damn Mark Stevens, Comet!” Riley whispers. “Damn him! What’s Van Siclen doing now?” With one opponent writhing in pain and the other apparently out of it, Van Siclen looks down at the table. Reaching a decision the veteran picks up the item of foldable furniture and begins to set the legs. When the table is stable the man from Illinois grabs the virtual-deadweight of Manson and hauls him upright before loading him onto the second table of the evening! As soon as he is happy with his victim’s position Van Siclen sets off - up the steps towards the tiered crowd seating! The crowd starts to buzz in anticipation as Van Siclen, a man not normally known for his high-risk offence, starts to gain height. Unnoticed by Van Siclen, however, Toxxic is following him, the pains in his jaw and his groin driving the Straight-Edger after the Spectacle as Manson lays unmoving on the table. Reaching his goal Van Siclen starts to edge out OVER the door to the backstage area! Balanced on the narrow ledge between the guardrail and the entrance well beneath him Van he looks down at Manson’s form, looks around at the crowd and raises a hand shaped like a gun to his temple! “SICLEN’S GAMBIT!” screams Comet. “Van Siclen is going to attempt a Shooting Star Frog Splash from up there onto Manson, and through a table!” “That’ll end the match for sure,” Riley replies, now apparently so wound up he’s gone out the other side of hysterical. “Goodbye, Manson.” Van Siclen takes a deep breath, prepares to jump... but two arms lock a sleeper hold around his head! Toxxic caught up with Van Siclen just in time, and realising that there was no way he could make it back down in time to break up a pin if Van Siclen pulled the move off he desperately grabbed the Spectacle in an attempt to stop him. Van Siclen struggles, but his movements are limited by the drop in front of him which counteracts the relatively unscientific application of the move by the rookie. Finally coming to his senses, Manson looks up at the struggle taking place above him and rolls off the table as fast as he can. Realising that it is now him who is in the wrong place to affect a decision Manson makes unsteadily for the steps and starts to climb, foot by painful foot, towards the competitors above. Van Siclen weakens, and Toxxic releases the hold, attempting to push his opponent off the edge and through the table... but Van Siclen holds on! Desperately, eyeing the approaching Manson, Toxxic edges round the other end of the guardrail and approaches the woozy Van Siclen. With both men perched precariously on the edge of disaster the crowd hushes. Van Siclen aims a punch, but Toxxic rears back and the swing almost carries Van Siclen over... but not quite. Toxxic fires off a kick, and this hits home to the midsection of the Spectacle, doubling him over! Taking a deep breath Toxxic reaches forward and hooks both of Van Siclen’s arms... as the crowd roars into life Toxxic steps OFF the ledge, pulling Van Siclen with him, and they drop down... down... DOWN... KERRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHH!!!! “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “TOXXIC SHOCK SYNDROME THROUGH A TABLE!” Comet screams. ONE!!!! TWO!!!!!!! THRRRRRREEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! *DING! DING!* “Here is your winner,” Funyon booms, trying to make himself heard above the music, chants and cheers, “TOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXIIIIIIIC!”. The camera zooms in on the rookie who doesn’t look much like a winner as he rolls off the broken body of Mike Van Siclen, as we... 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the.weej 0 Report post Posted February 17, 2004 As we return Ben Hardy is standing backstage, microphone in hand, and next to him is the spiky-haired figure of an exhausted looking Toxxic, leaning on a wall. The rookie is still breathing heavily and appears to be in some pain, but the faint hint of a lopsided grin shows on his face. “So, Toxxic,” Hardy begins. “How are you feeling after that brutal Falls Count Anywhere match?” “How do I feel?” Toxxic responds, rounding on Hardy and his grin disappearing. “I feel like I’d rather not ever do anything like that again! I feel like a man who just went through a table from 15 feet up, and don’t let the fact that it was me doing the move fool you into thinking that won’t hurt!” Calming down a little the rookie steps back and the grin returns. “But... I won. And that feels good, Ben. It don’t matter that I was just booked in the most brutal match of my career so far, and it don’t matter that I was in that match with a Grade-A nutter in the shape of Manson, and one of the wiliest veterans this company has in the shape of Mike Van Siclen. What matters is that I came out on top. I’m not the toughest in this company, but I wasn’t the one going through tables, or taking Mindbenders or Van Slaminators onto concrete. I was the one who just put Mike Van Siclen through a bloody table with a Toxxic Shock Syndrome!” Toxxic places one fist inside the other and squeezes, his knuckles cracking and making Ben Hardy jump. “What it boils down to Ben is that despite all that, despite the fact that I won, that match hurt. And if I could get through my career without doing anything as crazy again, I’d have no complaints. But that’s not how this business works. And if Commissioner Stevens rings me up tomorrow and says ‘Hey Toxxic, Dace Night can’t make it for his title match and Va’aiga wants some Lariat practice’ - I’d be there. If he calls and says ‘Hey Toxxic - Va’aiga can’t make it for his title defence and Dace Night wants someone to throw into C4’ - I’d be there. If he calls and says ‘Hey Toxxic, I want you to take on the Unnamed in an Iron Man handicap match with barbed wire for ropes while the fans pelt you with beer bottles’, I’d bloody well be there Ben, because THIS IS WHAT I DO. And if anyone thinks that I’m not going to make a bloody impact in this company - then they’d better prepare to be proved wrong.” Ben Hardy can only nod as Toxxic turns and, limping slightly, makes his way off down the corridor, cracking his neck from side to side. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted February 17, 2004 With his gothic music playing into the background, ‘The Demon’ Jimmy Liston steps into the ring as we return from commercial to another exciting edition of SWF Smarkdown. Glaring at Funyon, the man in black tosses out some token insults to the crowd as he climbs up to the middle rope and raises his arms up into the air. “Man have I been impressed with this newcomer to the SWF,” admits The Cyclone Comet as Liston steps off the buckles and begins to take a long hard look down the aisle at where he knows that his opponent will be emerging in just a few seconds. “For a man of his size, this guy simply has a scary amount of power packed into his frame.” “And do you know why?” answers Bobby Riley. “Because Jimmy Liston has dedication to this sport unlike some filthy redneck bastards that seem to treat the business like a family vacation. Its amazing that Coy West even gets to his matches on time what with all the ankle biters he has to drag along.” Funyon calls into his microphone, “This next match is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit and is to determine the number one contender to the USJL Championship at From the Fire. Introducing first, he weighs in tonight at 228 pounds and hails from Boston, Massachusetts. He is ‘THE DEMON’ JIMMEEEEEE LISTONNNNNNNNNNN! And his opponent…” With the sounds of Sara Evens singing harmonically throughout the arena, out pops the country flavor of Coy West as he comes bounding out of the entranceway with his usual amount of fire and energy. This week, added to his normal ensemble of a white tank top and blue jeans is a baseball cap that carries the NASCAR logo. Celebrating the start of the Winston (cell phones be damned) Cup races, Coy tosses the cap out to the cheering crowd before sliding underneath the bottom rope and into the ring. Continuing to hop about from one leg to the other, Coy looks like he’s about to explode with energy fresh off his win on the last SWF television program against Todd Royal. “Weighing in tonight at 240 pounds and hailing from the S. S. General Lee Junior, this is ‘The Coyote’ COYYYYYYYYY WESSSSSSSSSST!” Stepping in between both Liston and West is the official assigned to this contest, Matthew Kivell. Not bothering to over the last minute instructions due to having covered them backstage, Kivell signals to the timekeeper to get this one started right away. DING! DING! DING! Moving right in on Liston as the bell rings, Coy jumps right into a battle of strength as he locks up with a collar-and-elbow tie up only to be instantly shucked aside by the superior power of The Demon. Tossed right down on the canvas, Coy rubs the back of his head for a second as Liston immediately moves in to assault the fallen man from the wild west. Instantly battering West around the head with a clubbing forearm, Liston hauls Coy off the canvas and tosses across the ring into the ropes. Lowering his center of gravity, Jimmy easily pulls his stunned opponent off the mat and jams him into the mat with a hard sidewalk slam! “What did I tell you,” questions Bobby Riley. “Jimmy Liston is strong enough to take on four rednecks at a time… in the woods… even if they had banjos!” Rolling off his stunned opponent, Liston looks out to the crowd with his red eyes and glowers menacingly out at just about anyone that will meet his glare. Leaving Coy right there where he left him on the canvas, The Demon steps out to the apron and starts the long climb up to the very top turnbuckle. Hoping to hit something hard enough to net him a win in the opening seconds of the contest though proves to be a mistake as Coy West has already made his way up to the his feet. Charging up to his foe, Coy puckers Liston in the chest with a hard right hand. Losing his balance, Liston drops strait down onto the top turnbuckle and stuns himself in the process. Not one to let a good opportunity go to waste, West immediately climbs up after Liston and hooks him around the head. “Sweet Zombie Jesus,” notes The Cyclone Comet, “these guys aren’t holding anything back at all! They’re bringing their hardest hitting offensive maneuvers to bear right here and right now!” Indeed comet is right as Coy reaches around the stunned Liston’s body and grabs a handful of black pants while standing tall on the middle turnbuckle. Jerking Liston off the buckle, Coy falls back into the center of the ring and crushes Jimmy into the mat with an awe-inspiring superplex from WAYYYYY downtown! Hitting the suplex high on his own shoulders, Coy easily floats over the top and hooks everything that he can in order to get this match over in the first two minutes! ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THRENOWHATYOUEXPECTEDITTOENDTHATFAST! Kicking out despite the incredible shock to his senses, Liston gets out from underneath his foe in order to keep this match up moving along for the time being. But for now, Jimmy has to think defensively as Coy has grabbed a big handful of advantage with just that one suplex. Pulling ‘The Demon’ up to his feet, West strikes hard with a looping right hook that catches Liston right underneath the jaw. Stunned by the punch as well as that monstrous superplex, Liston proves to have no resistance as Coy plucks him up and off the canvas with a very low bear hug. But that is only applied for a moment before West jams ‘The Demon’ down across his knee with a reverse atomic drop! Shattered by the move, Liston hops about the ring for a moment in a very undignified manner for a demon as Coy ranges his way into the ropes for a little extra added momentum! WHAM! Leaping into the air as he gets within range, Coy catches Liston right across the throat with a cutting lariat that ends up sending both men down to the canvas with West on top of his battered foe. Hopping back onto his feet with a war whoop, Coy looks out to the crowd with a crooked smile as the people in the arena cheer on with warm feelings for just about everyone not named Jimmy Liston. “WILD WEST! WILD WEST! WILD WEST!” Feeling the crowd behind him, Coy grabs Jimmy by the arm and tosses him across the ring with an Irish whip. Crashing into the turnbuckle with the top of his back, Liston hangs on the ropes as West comes charging in with as much steam behind him as possible. But all that steam works against Coy as he runs full on into a knee that knocks West backward and into the center of the ring in a cloudy haze. But why worry about a haze when full out agony will do? That’s Jimmy Liston’s motto and he brings all of that rage with him when he goes on the hunt. BOOOOOM! Rushing out of the corner, Liston grabs Coy around the waist and snatches him off the ground. Then carrying West all the way across the ring, Liston crushes ‘The Coyote’ into the turnbuckles with as much power behind it as he can bring to bear. Shaking out his head after absorbing the previous amount of punishment that he took in the opening portions of the match, Liston is slow to take advantage of his rage. But Coy is in simply no shape to make any sort of move as The Demon takes his time before moving in to press his advantage. Driving a kick right into Coy’s midsection, Liston further works to stun his opponent before pulling him towards the center of the ring and pulling West up onto his shoulders. Stepping around the ring to prove that Coy’s 240 pounds will be absolutely no trouble for him to manipulate, Liston shows off his power before finally driving West down across his knee with a backbreaker. “God that’s impressive,” remarks Bobby Riley as Liston plucks West off his knee and pulls him back up to chest height. “All that power in such a tight little package just makes me want to… WOAH!” Falling backward to the canvas, Liston interrupts Riley’s disturbing imagery by chucking Coy over his head with an amazing fall away slam that causes everyone in the arena to stand up and take notice once and for all of the amazing power of The Demon. Sitting up on the canvas, Liston looks at Kivell with the red eyes of the devil before turning over and crawling across Coy in order to make a loose lateral press. ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THREOOOHNONOTTHREE! Squirting out from underneath the lateral press, Coy keeps the match going strong as Liston simply shakes his head as if to ask just how much more punishment West wants to take yet here tonight. Pulling the aching West off the mat by the back of the jeans, Liston stands behind his opponent and starts to use his head as a battering ram in order to smash away at his opponent’s lower lumbar region with a number of hard headbutts. After three such heavy blows to the spine, ‘The Coyote’ drops down to his knees while all the time keeping a hand on the base of his spine in order to try and dull the pain put there by Liston. Grabbing Coy off the canvas though it is obvious that Liston has a whole lot more punishment ready and waiting for his game opponent. “Liston has now picked out a body part,” reports The Cyclone Comet. “And you know as well as I do that he will continue to go after that body part for as long as he can before trying to end this match either with a high impact move to the spine or some sort of submission.” Using his strength advantage yet again, Liston grabs West by the arm and uses it to sling West across the ring with as much power as he can muster. Actually dropping to his knees in order to get as much energy behind the whip as possible, Liston sends Coy crashing into the opposite turnbuckle so hard that West comes falling out of the buckle almost immediately and falling down onto his face in the process. Rolling out away from the buckle, Coy ends up near the center of the ring on his chest as Liston simply stalks his foe with all the passion of a belt sander. Taking up an angle of attack, Liston puts his hands out to his sides before simply dropping forward and using his head to smash Coy right in the base of the spine once again in the style of former NWA World Champion Harley Race. Shaking out his own head from the impact, Liston has no problems getting his game back together and getting back up to his feet. Hooking Coy around the head, Liston hauls West up to his feet before slowing and strongly taking West up and over and smashing him into the canvas with a vertical suplex. “Slow and steady! Slow and steady!” coaches Bobby Riley from his seat at the announce booth. “Liston ended up paying for that chance he took at the beginning of this match and has slowed down this match considerably since then. He is going to grind that redneck piece of garbage into paste.” Once again pulling West off the mat by the back of his blue jeans, Liston once again uses the headbutt to the back in order to soften up the rampaging redneck. Ducking underneath his opponent, Liston lowers his center of gravity before rising up and capturing Coy in a torture rack backbreaker! Reaching out to cover all of Coy’s lanky body, Jimmy applies pressure to every inch of West’s back and he hops up and down with the backbreaker. Bending his opponent’s back down across his shoulders, Liston glowers out to the crowd as he holds Coy like a trophy buck up in the air. But carrying 240 pounds around in the air simply isn’t easy especially when West is trying to escape from the predicament. Reaching around Liston’s head with his free right arm, Coy struggles to find a handhold as he continues to try and keep himself conscious despite the rain of pain in his spine. But finally West finds a place to grab a hold of that will get him loose from the torture rack as he jams the point of his fingers into the Satanically red eyes of his foe! Screaming out in pain, Liston almost instinctively lets Coy’s legs loose enough to Coy to swing his body around his foe and drive him into the canvas with a stunning bulldog headlock! BOOOOOOM! Trying to sneak one out, Coy instantly pushes Liston over onto his back and hooks the far leg as Kivell scrambles into position to count… ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THREITHOUGHTHEHADHIMBUTNO!” Comet says, “West needed to win right then and there! He simply doesn’t have the strength still in him to mount a major offensive and Jimmy Liston is just going to keep crushing his spine time and again until this match is over.” “For once we agree,” calls out Bobby Riley. “The Demon has this match wrapped up so tightly that he could have put it under the tree in December. West is going to have to pull out a miracle in order to steal this one away.” Knowing that just as well as anyone else, West almost immediately locks Liston in a front facelock as both men get up to their feet. Pulling Jimmy over to the ropes, West hooks him up for what seems to be the slingshot suplex that put away Todd Royal last Thursday. But even as West tries to pull Jimmy off the canvas, it is obvious that his back will not even allow him to get up 230 pounds at this time. Releasing the front facelock as Liston’s feet touch the mat again, Coy wanders in a circle with a hand on his convulsing back until The Demon ends his little jig with a stunning headbutt to the face. Grabbing his own head from the impact of the strike, Jimmy leans backward into the ropes as West simply stays on the canvas in the hopes that keeping strait will keep the spasms he know feels a little bit under control. But nothing he seems to do keeps the pain under control as Coy tries to crawl across the ring and gain a little bit of separation from his aggressive opponent. But nothing can seemingly stop The Demon as he callously steps on Coy’s back and presses down with all of his weight as West screams out in continuous pain. Stepping back for a bit of distance, Liston once again drops a headbutt down into the small of West’s back before climbing up to back up to his feet. Giving a minor gesture to the crowd as though this match is just about over, Liston plucks West off the canvas and hurriedly pulls him up to his shoulder. But Coy kicks wildly with his legs and soon finds his body sliding down off Liston’s shoulder in order to avoid what seemed to be a sure powerslam or shoulderbreaker. Turning to see where his prey might have gone, Liston finds just one thing waiting for him. BOOM! One hard right hand! Barely keeping himself upright, Coy keeps one hand on his back and another one moving as it once again rocks Jimmy’s jaw with another hard right hook! BOOM! Not knowing just how much more of this he can take, West just simply starts to pepper the top of Liston’s head with punch after punch after punch. Until the force of the barrage causes The Demon to simply start to tumble backward until the turnbuckle is just about the only thing keeping him from falling to the canvas. But still ‘The Coyote’ will not stop punching because he knows that if he stops he might not be able to start up yet again. “Stop it Coy!” shouts the referee as West finally punches himself out on the head of Jimmy Liston. Heading the words of the official, Coy leaves Liston punch drunk in the corner as West struggles to keep his spine in one piece. Leaning face-first against the top rope, West arches his own back in pain knowing that every second he gives Liston will be another second towards shrugging off all those punches. Forcing his body on, Coy lurches across the ring and… WHAM! Is crushed against the canvas by the throat! “Oh such is the torment of The Demon!” laughs Bobby Riley as Jimmy throttles West in response for all those punches. “West simply does not have the strength in his body to knock Liston around anymore. Liston has done a tremendous job of cutting his foe off time and again and know we has that muskrat of a man ripe for the plucking.” Releasing West’s windpipe from his icy hand, The Demon rises up and once again cuts his own throat to signify that Coy is all but through. Grabbing West by the handles of his tank top, Liston manages to pull the hunched over redneck up to his feet. Turning into West once again, Jimmy hauls his opponent up and onto his shoulder and begins to walk about the ring with a much firmer grip on his opponent than the last time. Walking over to a turnbuckle with West up on his shoulder, Liston gets a running start before crushing his foe against the canvas with a resounding running powerslam! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! Comet says, “That’s it, it’s over. Wait, he’s not making the cover?” “Oh Liston wants to make an example! He wants to make the world know that The Demon is risen! Praise the Demon or be destroyed!” Leaving West flat on the canvas Liston casually nudges his opponent over onto his back with a toe of his boot. Slowly moving his way out to the apron once again, Liston slowly makes his way up tot he top rope for the second time in this contest. But this time, Coy West is not going to be able to spring up to his feet and hit something as massive as a superplex. As a matter of fact, West is not moving at all. Finally up on the top rope, Liston knows that his time is now. And the time is set. And it is time to drop… THE DIVING DEMON HEADBUTT! MISSES! Rolling out of the way at the last instant, West squirts out of the way just in time to avoid the Demon’s onslaught. The Demon who spent that same instant smashing his own face into the canvas from ten feet in the air, Liston is so shocked from the impact that he virtually is knocked right up to his feet! Pawing at his own head, Liston stumbles backward and right into the waiting arms of a Coy West schoolboy rollup! ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THRENOKICKOUTATTWO! Just barely pushing coy off at the count of two, Liston shakily rises up to his feet and looks about in confusion for just a moment before he finds that his legs have been swept out from underneath him! Quickly as he can, West rolls over the top of his opponent with a rolling jackknife! ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THRENONONONONONONONO! Just barely managing to kick loose with his legs once again; Liston fights his way free from the cover! Almost up on his feet at the same moment as his opponent, Jimmy knees Coy in the chest and looks to drop him into the canvas once again with the powerslam. But the moment West feels Liston’s arms around his body; Coy rolls backward to the mat with the small package! ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! “HE GOT HIM! HE GOT HIM!” DING! DING! DING! Rolling out of the ring instantly, Coy leaves his stunned opponent sitting in the middle of the ring as Funyon calls into his microphone, “Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match and the new number one contender to the USJL Championship, COYYYYYYYYYYY WESSSSSSSSSSSSSSST!” Bobby grumbles, “Well, the hick pulled that out of his ass.” “You would know all about that,” remarks The Cyclone Comet. “But Coy West did what neither one of us thought he could. That series of roll ups finally managed to catch Liston off guard so much that he couldn’t kick out of the last one. But it all started when Jimmy missed that tremendous top rope headbutt.” “And now West has a chance at being a champion. What a disgrace.” “Disgrace or not,” notes The Cyclone Comet, “Coy won and Liston lost. And considering what bad shape West was in that match, I have to wonder if anyone can truly ever think they have ‘The Coyote’ beaten. We’ll be back right after this.” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted February 17, 2004 As Smarkdown returns from a brief commercial break, the scene opens in the Unnamed’s dressing room which is decked out with streamers, tacky looking silver balloons and the like…cloth covered tables laden with cheap nibbles and full glasses of champagne scattered around the room as well. Despite what you’d expect to be a jovial setting, the actual inhabitants of the dressing room, the Unnamed themselves, look anything but in the party mood. Sensing the dingy mood everyone is in, Megan Skye pulls out the most desperate of all desperate attempts at lightening the mood… “Who wants to play charades!” A discontenting murmur echoes around the room, as Megan senses it and sits back down. With a sigh, Landon finally stands up and looks around the room…Todd nibbling on a sausage roll, Va’aiga looking at his reflection in the SWF World Title belt with a slight look of nervousness on his face, Duran looking utterly bored and Megan trying her best not to let Maddix notice her staring at him. “Look…I know Lockdown wasn’t the best of shows for us.” Landon says, stating the obvious. “I mean…I did lose my shot at the Cruiserweight Championship against Wildchild. Todd did lose against Coy West. And Va’aiga, you did lose to that...lesbian weirdo Annie Oni..." "Get to the point kid." Va'aiga says angrily. "O...ok..." stutters Landon. "The point is...Lockdown wasn't a good night. But tonight will be. Me and Todd can't lose to Spike Jenkins and Joke-ab Helmsley. There's no way that'll happen." "No way." Todd concurs. "And tonight champ, you and Dace inside of that...cell...thing. Not only will you will destroy Night, but you may very well cripple him. We've got all bases covered tonight. Which is why all these down under frowns need to get turned upside down...so we can celebrate the dawn of my 20th year on Todd's Royal blue earth." The other Unnamed members, excpet Todd and Megan stare blankly, as Maddix sighs. "My 20th birthday." "Oh!" Matheson says, realising what Maddix meant. "Well, sure Landon. No problem. We're not going to deprive you of your celebration. That's why I organised all this, we all got you presents, and t... "Presents?" questions Landon like a little kid on Christmas Day. "You...got me presents?" "Well of course...it is your birthday after all." "Well, forgive my impatience...but gimme, gimme, gimme!" Matheson chuckles and reaches behind one of the couches, Va'aiga and Duran still looking far from elated for Landon. As Matheson comes back from behind the couch, he's laden with wrapped gifts...the very sight of them lighting Landon up with a childish look of elation, Landon trying not to clap his hands together in excitement. "Ok...well, this one's from Todd..." "The Book of Todd...wow! Thanks Todd, I always wanted thi...what's this?" Landon questions, pulling a plastic card from between two of the pages. "Why the heck have you put your hotel room key in here?" With a look of shock Megan chokes slightly on her glass of champagne, as Maddix gives Todd a disgusted look. As he does so, Va'aiga stands up and places one of the boxes in Landon's lap. Quickly Maddix tears the wrapping apart, and hurriedly opens the box...a confused look adorning his face as he looks inside. "An...empty box. Thanks champ." "Kid, the present isn't in the box." Va'aiga replies impatiently. "Look, my present...is this..." Va'aiga raises his arm, ready to hit a lariat...causing Landon to try and dive over the couch for cover. "Nah...nah kid, stop." Va'aiga hurriedly says as Landon cautiously returns back to his seat. "The present ain't for you. Not...not really. Look...my present is this. If you ever need some punk to feel the sting from this lariat arm here, then you've a free one." "A...free one. You mean you charge people." "No, it's a figure of speech. But usually, when people ask for a lariat for someone, I expect a favour back. This one...it's a present to ya. Use it wisely kid." "I'll...bear it in mind. Thanks champ." "Ok..." Matheson interrupts. "I've go..." *KNOCK KNOCK* All eyes turn to the door, as Todd gets up, as he's nearest...opening the door to be faced by Alan Clark! Royal and Clark unsurprisingly glare at each other, as the other Unnamed members stand incase of any 'action.' "I'm not here for trouble." Clark says to everyone, while not looking away from Todd. "I came to talk to Landon." Landon walks over with a bemused look on his face, nodding to Todd that it's ok as he walks away. The other Unnamed members sit back down and continue their 'party', as Maddix steps outside of the room, closing the door up behind him. As he does, the bemused is replaced by one of anger as he snaps at Clark. "Listen...I don't know what the hell you think you're doing interrupting my party..." "Hey, Landon, I'm sorry." Alan says disingenuously. "I didn't realise you were having a party. I guess all that music and those hot women should have made it pretty clear. Look...I didn't come for a fight. You know me. I may not like you, and everything you're doing with these guys. But I respect you." "Oh, really?" Maddix says surprised. "You respect me. Well, if that isn't the best present I've recieved all day. Respect from the local busker. Did you actually want something, or did you just want to respect me?" "I...got you a present." Now totally confused, Landon still glares at Alan, as he reaches behind his back and heaves a present that can be best described as 'guitar shaped' from behind his back, and places it in front of Landon. "Oh...I wonder what this could be." Landon sarcastically sneers. "Listen, I know you don't like me, but like I say...I still respect you. And I'd like to think that someday when you come to your senses, you and me could..." "Woah woah...hold up there a second. Come to my senses? Let's get one thing straight here Alan...I don't need to come to my senses. I'm not the one strumming on my guitar, writing songs about emotional crap that nobody in this world would care about except when they're on the verge of suicide. I'm not the one running around picking fights with Thugg." "No...no, you're not." Alan agrees...slowly turning red as he begins to get angrier. "You're the one who's backing away from Thugg. He beats the crap out of you on the streets, and you just sweep it under the carpet and let him walk around continuing on with this anti-SJL campaign. If you had any ounce of guts you'd be helping me and helping Spike Jenkins to show that damn bully what us SJLers are about. But it seems associating yourself with this bunch has caused you to lose all your guts." "So you want my help the..." "I don't want or need your help. I do want you to realise that out of the three SJL guys Thugg beat up, you're the only one who's not doing a damn thing about it. Here...take your present, and think about what I said. And remember something Landon..." Alan glares right into Landon's eyes, getting a close to him as possible. "...people used to respect you. And you blew it." Angrily Clark storms off down the hallway, as Landon watches him go...before looking down thoughtfully at the present left at his feet... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted February 17, 2004 (Comet) – Ladies and gentlemen…welcome back to SWF Smarkdown! It’s been an incredible night so far, and we know it’s only going to get better as we get closer towards our huge main event…Va’aiga defending his newly won SWF title against Dace Night in a very bizarre matchup up. (Riley) – That would be the Barbed Wire Cell Timebomb Deathmatch! (Comet) – Any idea what that is? (Riley) – No freaking clue…but I’m sure, by the time the match starts, someone will have clued us in. (Comet) – I certainly hope so. Anyway…as we get ready for our next match…a tag team contest that… “They don’t know…” “Who we be!” (Comet) – WAIT A SECOND!! “They don’t know…” “Who we be!” (Comet) – THIS CAN’T BE! MARK FIRED HIM…AND WITH GOOD REASON TOO!! “What they don’t know is…” KA-BOOOOOOOM!! A wall of fire erupts on the stage as the entire arena erupts into a deafening boo, while Comet goes apeshit over the appearance of HVT, only days after being fired from the SWF. (Riley) – C’mon now Comet…you didn’t think a little thing like being fired would stop a monster like Thugg, did you? Especially not after he found his beautiful and cherished Cadillac destroyed in the parking lot after Lockdown. (Comet) – Perhaps it was wishful thinking on my part. (HVT) – YO!! Cut my mutha fuckin’ music dogg! The smoke from the fire clears and reveals HVT’s angry mug on the Smarktron looking dead into the camera. The fans give him more heat as “Who We Be” by DMX fades out. (HVT) – First of all…everybody shut the fuck up…fo’ real. BOOOOOO!! “H-Ville!” “H-Ville!” “H-Ville!” “H-Ville!” (Riley) – See…you don’t have to worry any more. He’s not here… (Comet) – Yes Bobby…ladies and gentlemen, we’re receiving word that this feed is coming via satellite from Thugg’s home in Washington, DC. Thank goodness for that…but how did he get the air time? (HVT) – Secondly…Mark! Don’t even think ‘bout hobblin’ yo busted ass over to cut my feed. By da time you get yo old’ ass to the production truck…I’ll be done, and you will have failed…AGAIN…to defeat me. So, just sit there in yo fuckin’ office dogg, and listen up. (Comet) – He can’t talk to the commissioner like that! (Riley) – Actually, he’s not employed here…so I think he can. Now shut up so I can hear… (HVT) – I’m gonna start wit you Mark. I bet you feel like a big man don’t you? You feelin’ all empowered and shit…firin’ me like that on national television? I know you are…I bet you fucked the hell outta Laura…Linda…Loraine…or whatever the your wife’s name is…last night. You was feelin’ all big and shit…and that’s tight. Mad props fo’ that. But…uhhhh…you should know something slim…you might’ve fired me dogg…but you know you ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy. Cause I gots unfinished business yo…and I’m gonna take care of it…whether you like it or not. So…you got two choices cuz…either you can sit there like a good lil’ bitch, and let me handle my business…or you can get in my way and I can fuck you up. And don’t forget Mark…I know where you live…I know where yo fuckin’ wife and kid sleep dogg…so don’t fuck with me! BOOOOOO!! (Comet) – WHAT?!? Now he’s threatening Mark’s family?!? (Riley) – Uhhhh…Thugg? You’re my man and all…but you’re…uhhh…going a little too far. (Comet) – Too far? That’s the understatement of the year. This ain’t gonna sit well with Mark one bit. (HVT) – Yeah…dat’s right…I said that shit. If you don’t believe me cuz…try me. If you think King was bad…you ain’t seen shit yet if you fuck wit me dogg. BOOOOO!! (HVT) – Now…onto other shit…and that is what happened to my mutha fuckin’ ride last week. I bet you think you’re funny yo…I bet you think you’re a mutha fuckin’ comedian. I got news fo you bitch…you done fucked up cuz. Y’all know who I’m talkin’ about…dat lil’ ass mutha fucka…Alan Clark! RAAAAAA!! (HVT) – Ya see young buck…I guess since you from da fuckin’ JL...you don’t know how shit works up here wit da big dogs. Well, let me tell you…you don’t fuck wit HVT…plain and simple! Ask Mark what happens when you fuck wit HVT…he knows. You take yo ass whoopin’ like a man and you shut the fuck up. That’s how it works…but apparently you ain’t learn dat shit…and now you gotta pay. Cause not only did you bitch about dat shit…but you did the one thing you should never fuckin’ do…NEVER EVER FUCK WIT A BLACK MAN’S RIDE BITCH!! (Riley) – Yeah…Clark should know that by now. (Comet) – Shhhh. (HVT) – Do you have any idea how much fuckin’ money went into dat ride dogg? Da rims alone is more than yo whole mutha fuckin’ salary! And now it’s all fucked up…I can’t ride in dat shit. You never fuck wit a nigga’s ride…ever!! So, now I gotsta fuck you up cuz. You wanna act all big…talk all yo bullshit to Mark…let’s see how big you are when you got 400 pounds of pissed off black man all up in yo grill slim. Somebody should’ve told yo punk ass who you was fuckin’ wit…I’m H…V…to tha mutha fuckin’ T bitch…you betta recognize! BOOOOOO!! (HVT) – I hope you’re ready yo…cause I’m comin’ fo you. Ain’t no job…or being fired…or security…or no pig is gonna stop me from whoopin’ yo mutha fuckin’ ass. I’m comin’ back fo’ you…ain’t no where you can hide…ain’t no where to run…I’m puttin’ it to you…and you gonna truly know what it feels like to be my bitch! Don’t look to Mark to save you…cause he can’t help you. I’m gonna find you in da ring…backstage…in da locker room…or in da mutha fuckin’ street…and when I find you…I’m gonna rip both your arms off and beat you to fuckin’ death with them beeatch! You ain’t gonna know when I’m comin’ yo…so watch yo mutha fuckin’ back. You’re a marked man Clark…you’re fuckin’ marked! When I find you…I’m gonna… WRECK… YO… SHIT! BOOOOOOOO! (HVT) – Aight Mark…you can cut da feed now bitch! {Static} Cut to commercial. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted February 17, 2004 The hair raising sound of a cheering crowd greets us upon Smarkdown’s return to the air, as the camera pans the Mellon Arena and it’s raucous inhabitants. Through the crowd, signs pop up amongst the sea of humanity, ranging from “Who Betta Than Funyon”, to your simple “I miss Ejiro” , even to a 14 man long “L A R I A T O O O O O O ~ !” set of signs in the cheap seats. Finally after scanning the crowd for a little under a minute, the camera shot is replaced by one set directly in front of the SWF’s heroically homosexual duo (and you can guess which one is which), Cyclone Comet and ‘Citizen’ Bobby Riley. "Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown my viewing citizens..." Cyclone says greetingly. "...this is the superhero of the century CYCLOOONE Comet, along with my effeminate friend Bobby Riley." "You know Cyclone, I didn't think it was possible...but you really do get more patronizing every week." Riley snaps back at Cyclone, evidently unhappy at his introduction. "I suggest you change your tone pretty quickly there Citizen Riley...before a certain SWF Tag Team Champion joins us here on commentary, ahead of our next tag team contest..." "You think I'm worried by Inspector Gadget?" Riley questions in shock. "Phff!" "Well...we'll see Bobbo...we'll see..." The camera suddenly cuts up into the ring, as Funyon is standing in the center of the ring waiting to do what he does best...talk. "Ladies and gentlemen...prior to our next contest, allow me to welcome the special guest color commentator for this match. He is currently one half of the SWF Tag Team Champions...JOHNNY DAAANGEROUS!!!" “Johnny Dangerous!” Suddenly, the lights dim, and a sultry female voice breathes the name of the SWF’s resident super-spy. “After The Flesh” by My Life With The Thrill Kill Cult begins to ring out through the arena, to huge cheers from the crowd…most sounding rather female. Smoke fills the stage as a ton of strobes cut through it and Johnny Dangerous walks out onto center stage, dressed in an expensive looking suit…the SWF Tag Title belt over his shoulder only adding to his star like look. Johnny walks down the aisle and tags hands with the fans, paying close attention to the females he meets along the way…eventually reaching the announce table, where both Cyclone and Riley stand up in respect for him. "Welcome to the table citizen Dangerous." Citizen says as Dangerous joins the announce position, and puts on his head-set. "It's an honor to have you out here." "It's great to be out here guys." Johnny reciprocates. "Well, obviously you have a vested interest in this match...the winners of this match get a shot at your Tag Team Titles..." "Yeah, so let's hope you don't anything other than sit here and watch the match." Riley interjects. "Relax Bobby...I'm just out here to get a front row seat for this match, and...'spy'...on me and Wildchild's next opposition, if you will." The camera cuts back up to Funyon...just as the lights begin to dim around the arena. As a bright white spotlight descends onto the head of the stage, and a soft angelic note breaks through the arena, coming from the full church choir "Todd's Angels". Suddenly AC/DC's "Shoot To Thrill" blasts through the arena, eliciting a flurry of boos around the arena to drown it out slightly. Three figures emerge from the back and stand in the spotlight, revealing themselves of course Megan Skye, Todd Royal and Landon Maddix. Royal is first to walk from the spotlight, Landon and Megan quickly following their leader's...well...lead. "The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall..." Funyon breaks in. "...and it is for the number one contendership to the SWF World Tag Team Championships! Introducing first...accompanied to the ring by 'The Toddess' Megan Skye. At a total combined weight of four hundred and thirty pounds. Representing the Unnamed...they are Landon 'La Cucaracha' Maddix and Todd Royal...THE HOUSE...OF...TOOOOODDD!!!" Megan gets to the ring first, as Royal takes a moment of his time to converse with one fan holding a "House of Ass" sign. Landon brushes past her and jumps to the apron, extending his hand and helping Megan to the apron...only for Todd to jump to the apron, and wait for Megan to hold the ropes for him. She does, and goes to enter the ring...only for Maddix to stop her, and hold the ropes for her. Once this pantomime of pointlessness is done with, all three House Of Todd member group in one corner, trying to get some last minute strategy sorted. "Well Johnny, here's the team that's been after your Tag Team Titles recently..." comments Cyclone. "...I guess you'd prefer to defend your titles against them." "Of course he wouldn't!" Riley snaps before Johnny can reply. "He and Wildchild don't want to face any of the Unnamed...they much rather have an 'easy' test against Spike and Jacob." "How about you let citizen Dangerous answer his questions, and you stick to your questions." "Are you two always this bitchy?" Dangerous sniggers. "Look, me and Dubya Cee have got not preference. He's already beaten Landon, and I'd have no problem against 'Todd'. We're not backing down from anyone...Unnamed or not." Landon begins to jawjack wit the crowd, as Todd focuses his personal attentions down at Johnny, glaring down towards him as Johnny coolly sits and looks back up at Todd, a slight smirk on his face. Suddenly, the arena lights dim down again as a series of blue lights begin to flash from the entrance way, illuminating the otherwise dark arena, whilst "Not Today" by Hotwire kicks into the P.A system. Out from the back steps the hooded figure of 'Hollywood' Spike Jenkins...the veteran standing at the top of the stage, as white pyro is set off to either side of him. Once the pyro dies down, Spike slowly walks down to the bottom of the ramp, but no further... "And their opponents...first, hailing from Hollywood, California. Weighing in at two hundred and twenty five pounds. A former SJL World Heavyweight Champion..."HOLLYWOOD"...SPIIIKE...JEEENKIIINS!!!" The hooded Spike holds his arm up over his head, getting cheered by the crowd... ...as quickly "Meaning of Life" by Disturbed kicks into gear, heralding the arrival of the lead pipe wielding Jacob Helmsley. With an emotionless look on his face, Helmsley strides down the ramp where Spike is waiting...the two shaking hands briefly before both beginning to enter the ring. "And his tag team partner. From Calgary, Alberta Canada...he weighs in at two hundred and twenty seven pounds...this is JAAACOB HEEELLLMSSSLLLEEEY!!!" As Jacob and Spike both enter the ring, Landon quickly holds the ropes open again for Megan to exit from the ring...Todd's eyes now locked on Spike Jenkins'. "There's a lot of history between these four men from the SJL..." begins Cyclone. "...Spike holds a victory over Todd, while Todd was the World Champion. But Todd returned the favor in a Cage Match on the last SJL show ever. Landon has fought Spike before and beaten him...their only one on one meeting was Maddix's first under Todd's wing, which he won. Landon also fought Jacob Helmsley not long ago in a Tables Match, a brutal Tables Match, which Landon came out on top of. So...these four are no strangers to each other." "Did you spend all night researching that?" Riley questions. "'Cause if you did, it was a waste of time." *DING DING* The bell rings to start the match, as both Helmsley and Spike remove their jacket/coats and pass them out to one of the stagehands. Without any need for discussion Maddix is already on the apron, Todd clearly ready to start the match. Upon seeing this, Spike immediately asks Jacob to go to the apron, which he eventually begrudgingly does. "LANDON SUCKS! LANDON SUCKS! LANDON SUCKS!" The chants directed at the young Disciple begin to build around the arena, as he is quick to deny the claims. Meanwhile, in the actual ring, Todd and Spike lock eyes in the center of the ring...Todd first to lunge forward and lock up in a collar and elbow tie-up. Both men jostle for position, neither wanting to back down and show a sign of weakness. The result is both men eventually jostling themselves towards the ropes. They reach the ropes, and keep jostling as referee Eddy tries to run over to them and separate them...not having much luck, as they roll across the ropes towards the House of Todd corner. As the two continue to rough each other up in the tie-up, Long takes matters into his own hands and tries to squeeze himself in between the two and pries them apart... ...and that gives Landon the chance to pop Spike in the jaw with a cheapshot right hand! "BOOOOO!!!" "Well...it sure didn't take long for Landon and Todd to cheat, huh guys?" Dangerous points out. Landon quickly scuttles back to the corner, grabbing the tag rope and putting his best look of innocence on. Todd meanwhile quickly grabs Spike's legs, and pulls them from underneath him with a double leg takedown. With a hold of both legs, Todd maneuvers his way further towards the corner, allowing Landon to slap him on the back for a tag. Quickly Landon climbs up to the top rope, and while Royal holds Spike in place, Landon comes off the top rope with a big legdrop, driven right across the throat of Spike! Todd exits the ring, as meanwhile Maddix hooks up a leg for a cover... ...OOONNNEEE ...TTTWWWOOO ...Kickout by Spike. Maddix quickly hops back to his feet, charging off the ropes as Jenkins gets back to his feet. As he nears his opponent Landon swings out his right arm...Spike seeing it coming and ducking smartly. Maddix hits the otherside ropes, Spike this time waiting for Landon and scooping him up in the air. Shock overcomes Maddix as he looks down at the canvas...crashing down to it moments later as Spike nails a big scoop slam. Instantly Jenkins runs into the ropes...Maddix adjusting his body so Jenkins has to leap over him. "Spike is trying to match speed with Landon...that's not a good idea." Riley points out. "That's not a good idea at all." Spike carries on to the ropes again, Maddix getting back to his feet in time for Spike to catch him with a big clothesline! As Maddix holds his throat from the pain, Jenkins reaches out to his corner and tags in Jacob Helmsley...the Canadian entering the ring with obvious intent to hurt. Landon sees him as he gets to his knees, and holds his hands out in a futile attempt to beg off. Helmsley smiles at the sentiment, before driving a boot to the chest of Landon...followed up with another on the Disciple. Looking for an escape Landon crawls backwards in retreat towards a neutral corner...but once there, Maddix is caught as Helmsley grabs a handful of Landon's hair, pulling him up and snapping Landon back with a right hand. "Maddix suddenly finds himself in trouble in the corner...and it's going to take all his ability to get out of this predicament." "Or...a swift kick in between the legs." Riley diplomatically replies. "Whatever's quicker." Grabbing a hold of Landon's wrist, Jacob yanks forward on the arm, sending The Disciple careering forwards to the opposite corner. Avoiding crashing into the turnbuckles, Maddix manages to get his foot up and land it on the middle turnbuckle, which stops his momentum. Helmsley is already charging toward Maddix, the Disciple turning around but not in time to stop Helmsley from diving forward and driving Maddix back into the corner with a GOOOOORE!!! Maddix crumples to the mat, Todd looking on in concern as Jacob tags out to Spike again. "Nice teamwork from the Spike/Jacob team here from the get-go guys...making quick tags to keep a fresh, ready man in the ring" points out Johnny. Spike takes a moment to shout something in Todd's direction, before pulling Landon up from the corner and hit a right hand to the jaw... *SLAP* "WHOO!" ...and follow up with a stinging chop. Landon weakly swings back at Hollywood looking to connect with a right hand, but Jenkins is easily able to sidestep and counter with a hiptoss which sends Maddix flying across the ring. He pulls himself up quickly, but just as quickly Spike runs over and slams his right forearm into Maddix's jaw. Quickly grabbing Maddix's arm Spike irish whip "La Cucaracha" into his corner...Jacob itching to get his licks in. *SLAP "WHOOO!" Spike nails another knifedge chop across the chest, before tagging in Jacob. Spike quickly takes a couple of energetic strides backwards, as Jacob stands with his back to Landon...waiting for Spike. The former SJL Champion sprints forwards, lifting his right leg slightly allowing Helmsley to scoop underneath Spike...launching him into the air, as Spike crashes down with a heavy hangtime avalanche! Spike, despite his grogginess from hitting his head on Landon's shoulder, pushes Maddix forward into Helmsley's waiting arms. Jacob quickly hits a boot to the gut as Landon comes out, and goes for a scoop slam... ...Maddix floats over the back, but gets an elbow to the jaw. With a nifty step back Helmsley hooks his arm around Maddix's neck, and falls back with a side russian legsweep, hooking the leg quickly... ...OOONNNEEE ...TTTWWW... ...Kickout again. Grabbing another handful of hair Helmsley drags La Cucaracha up, hitting a stiff forearm blow which causes Landon's knees to briefly buckle under him. Taking the advantage with a stiff knee, Jacob then runs off the ropes, Maddix suddenly finding his feet again and charging head-long towards Helmsley. Landon swings with a clothesline which Jacob manages to duck, and does the same again as Helmsley rebounds from the other side. Jacob continues to run on to the ropes... ...but is suddenly stopped by a knee to the kidneys from Todd! As Jacob then staggers forward clutching his lower back, Maddix snaps on a front facelock...pulling the right leg back, before falling to his back, DRILLING Jacob with a SNAP DDT. Finally Landon is near enough to his corner to tag in 'his Todd', who comes in fired up, firing away with stomps to the fallen Jacob. "See, that's me and Dubya Cee's problem with these kids." Johnny buts in. "They have to cheat all the time...they're very talented, but still they use these tactics..." "Tag team tactics Johnny." interrupts Riley. "I'm sure you and 'Dub Cee' have used them in the past." After landing the flat of his boot across Jacob's chest and head area enough times for his liking, Todd turns and throws his arms in the air whilst looking out at the booing crowd. In the meantime Jacob pulls himself up to his feet, standing behind the un-suspecting Todd. In desperation Landon starts to frantically wave his hands in Todd's direction, but he doesn't understand the signals...slowly turning around, oblivious to what's coming... ...boot... ...EVENFLOW DDT!!! "Oh my! Todd's head bounced off the mat like a damn basketball!" yells Riley. Landon quickly steps into the ring, but gets floored with a right hand. Quickly Jacob bounds over to the corner and makes the tag to Spike, who rushes into the ring after Todd. As 'Hollywood' mounts Todd and starts to pound away with right hands to the head, Landon pulls himself up on the ropes. Helmsley charges across the ring upon seeing the Disciple, and clotheslines him up and over the top rope, Landon's head cracking off the apron on the way down. Helmsley follows out, as meanwhile Spike continues the onlaught on Megan. "All hell has broken loose in this one!" shouts an excited Comet. Leaping off of Todd, Spike holds out his hands with a smug smile on his face, getting cheered by the crowd who appreciate his assaulting of Todd. The man himself slowly uses the ropes to get back to his feet, stumbling over across the ring... *SMACK!* ...Spike nails the Last Dance, right to the jaw. Royal slowly collapses to the mat, as Spike dives on top and hooks up the leg... ...OOONNNEEE ...TTTWWWOOO ...shoulder up! Spike hooks his hands around Royal 's head and drags him back to his feet, landing a stiff right hand before running to the ropes. Coming back, Spike lands a big clothesline, the force of which is enough to knock Todd off his feet. Spike sticks with what's working, running off the ropes and nailing a second clothesline just as Royal gets back up. "Todd is suddenly being rocked by Spike Jenkins!" "And somewhere...Va'aiga is holding his head in despair. Hell, so am I!" Riley whines. Slapping the side of his leg, Spike looks to be setting up the Yakuza Kick...Todd is dizzy, unable to stand still as he regains his footing. On the outside meanwhile, Landon is suddenly in control of Jacob. Spike runs off the ropes... ...but gets his foot caught by Megan! "Hey!" Johnny shouts. "More cheating!" Spike turns around angrily, glaring down at Megan who quickly backs off. Meanwhile, Landon has rolled back into the ring, which Spike doesn't know about. Slowly he turns around, running at Todd again, who catches him coming in his arms...lifting Jenkins into the air, and falling back as Landon hooks Spike's head, drilling him with a DDT on the way down! "Converting The Sinner!" Riley yells immediately. "What?" "Converting The Sinner! That's what they call that move. This one's over folks. I hope you're ready to face these guys Johnny!" As Maddix, the illegal man, quickly rolls out of the ring, Todd hooks Spike's leg and makes the cover... ...OOONNNEEE ...TTTWWWOOO ...TTTHHH... ...BROKEN UP BY JACOB!!! "Todd Damn it, where did he come from!?!" Riley snaps in disappointment. "Jacob Helmsley just saved the match for his team." recaps Cyclone. "That goes to show how quickly Todd and Landon could end this match..." "Yeah, with Megan's help that is." Johnny adds. Helmsley pulls Todd to his feet and fires a series of forearms at Todd, but is quickly pulled away as best possible by Eddy Long, and sent back to his corner. His protests only distract Long as Maddix rolls back into the ring...while Spike slowly gets back to his feet. The Disciple charges forward at Jenkins, who manages to turn and swing his leg around, catching Landon running in with a beautiful spinning heel kick. However, no sooner has Spike landed his foot back on the mat than Todd dives forward, and chopblocks it from underneath him! "BOOOOO!!!" Landon quickly pulls himself out to the apron, as Long finally gets Helmsley back in his corner. As the match returns to usual tag team format, Todd is now control over Spike, further weakening down the knee with a series of stomps directed at the joint. “Spike knows what that leg work leads to,” Riley explains, “and he’s felt the Wrath of Todd several times before. He does not want to feel it again..” Grabbing Jenkins’ leg and lifting it off the canvas, Royal lays into it with a shin strike. Recoiling and hopping up to one knee, Jenkins attempts to scurry to his corner for the tag. Todd simply grins, however, diving forward to cut Spike off. The crowd explodes, however, as Spike ducks the blow, driving his boot into Royal’s face and sending Todd flying across the ring. “Spike’s gotta make a choice here, Bobbo.” Comet proclaims. “He’s either got to make a big move on Royal, or tag out to Helmsley. Spike’s taken a beating all match long from the House.” As Todd climbs to his knees, holding his face from the kick, Spike turns to face him. Springing off Royal’s bended knee, Jenkins drives his own kneecap into the side of his opponent’s head. “Shining Wizard!” yells Comet as the crowd explodes out of their seats. “You mentioned that choice a moment ago, Comet, and Spike made exactly the exact one I expected him to,” says Dangerous, as calmly as ever, “Someone like Royal, like Maddix, I expect to run away. Spike’s proven that he’s a fighter. The crowd continues to roar as Eddy Long hits his knees, slapping the mat as Spike drapes his arm over Royal’s chest… …OOONNNNNNEEEEEEEEE… …TWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOO…. …THHHRRRREEEEEE…… NO! “Save made by Landon Maddix! Praise Todd!” Riley exclaims, jumping out of his seat as Johnny Dangerous scowls beside him. As the crowd boos “La Cucaracha”, Jacob Helmsley ducks through the ropes and charges right at Maddix. Eddy Long steps in to keep him out of the ring, as behind him Landon grins and puts the boots to Spike. With his mentor still holding his head and reeling in the middle of the ring, Maddix turns to the third member of the team for assistance. As Helmsley violently screams at the official, pointing futilely to the blatant cheating, he serves only to distract the ref further as on the outside, Megan Skye undoes her belt and hands it to Landon. “This is ridiculous,” Dangerous says as Landon sizes up his opponent, “I don’t think it’s possible for these guys NOT to cheat!” “They’re only able to do so now, however, because of Jake Helmsley’s insistence on screaming at the ref. With the history of animosity between Helmsley and Jenkins, you’ve GOT to wonder if this is intentional!” screams Riley, as Landon hooks his arm between Spike’s legs, snapping the belt into Jenkins’ crotch and doubling him over in pain. “That’s a baseless and absurd accusation, citizen Helmsley knows how important the tag title shot is, and he wouldn’t let his problems with Spike interfere with that!” Dumping the belt from the ring, Maddix rushes past a gasping Spike Jenkins and dives at Helmsley, knocking him over the top rope with a body press. The crowd continues to boo, as a shocked Eddy Long spins back toward the ring, only to find Royal jerking Spike from the mat. Stepping behind his old foe, Todd grapevines his arms through Spike’s locking his hands behind Jenkins’ head. As Royal pulls his opponent from the mat, Maddix slides back under the middle rope. Grinning and hopping forward, Landon kicks out his leg, catching Jenkins under the jaw as Royal pulls back, pulling Spike over and dropping him into the mat with a Dragon Suplex! “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” “What a move! That’s the Final Judgment from the House of Todd!”- Riley erupts. “Maddix’s Last Dance and Royal’s Todd Damn combined! What power!” The crowd’s hopes collapse as Eddy Long drops to the canvas again. Royal holds the bridge as Landon holds off Helmsley, and the official pounds the mat… …ONNNNNEEEEEEEEEE!!!!… …TWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!… …TTTTHHHHHHHRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!…. THREE! *DING* *DING* *DING* “Todd Royal and Landon Maddix STEAL a victory here tonight, and a shot at the SWF tag team titles!!” Cyclone Comet yells as the crowd unleashes a stream of boos. “The ‘W’ is all the counts in the record books though, and the House of Todd just got one from destroying Helmsley and Spike!” As AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” blasts over the loudspeakers again, Todd Royal and Landon Maddix roll under the bottom rope, hugging Megan Skye at ringside. As a frustrated and angry Jake Helmsley storms off, leaving his partner laying in the ring, Royal breaks the embrace, leaving Landon and Skye hugging. Instead of heading to the back, though, Royal saunters over to the announce table. As he approaches the booth, Bobby Riley holds out his arms, bowing down to Todd on the table top. Beside him, Johnny Dangerous coolly smiles, pushing away his chair and getting to his feet. “Ladies and Gentlemen….The winners of this match as a result of a pinfall….and the NEEEEWWW Number One Contenders to the SWF Tag Team Titles….Landon Maddix….Todd Royal….THE HOUSE OF TODD!!!” Funyon bellows out the victory announcement, but it receives little reaction as most of the fans attention has already turned to the announce position. As Johnny Dangerous mockingly claps at Royal, Landon Maddix and Megan Skye appear to back up their leader. As the fans rise in anticipation, Royal just grins back, pointing to his waist and raising his eyebrows. As Todd turns to walk away, Maddix repeats the action, and the crowd boos, this time as much out of disappointment as hatred. As the challengers escape up the entrance ramp, we once again return to the announce position. “…little punks…” *THUD* “Errr…that was interesting, to be sure. But we’re not even done yet, are we Comet?!” “Not by a LONG SHOT Bobbo. Coming up we have two of the biggest matches in Smarkdown History. Annie Onita returns to challenge Charlie Matthews, and in the main event Va’aiga defends the World Championship against his former friend, now bitter enemy, Dace Night.” “And it will be in a Barbed-Wire Cell, Timebomb DEATH match. You do NOT want to miss this…” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted February 17, 2004 (edited) The last commercial slowly fades out and we return to SWF programming, with a shot of The Bryce Jordan center, which is absolutely packed to the rafters with hungry fans, thirsty for more SWF action! “They must be awfully malnourished.” “…Who are you talk-“ “Welcome sports (entertainment) fans! I am, as always, your number one superhero, sitting with Robert Riley as we get set to shift this show up a gear with a fabulous, absolutely stupendous title match!” As he graphics of Sacred and Rickmen are thrown up on screen and the crowd let out a raucous, impromptu cheer, Riley responds. “I hope the match can live up to your wild expectations, Comet. Both Blackwell and Rickmen have had tough schedules as of late, with Rickmen taking an absolute beating in the cage match on Lockdown, and Sacred trying desperately to hold onto his title in some stalwart defenses. One has to wonder, Cyclone, whether they’ll be up for tonight’s encounter?” “Are you kidding!?” asks a bewildered Superhero. “For Rickmen, it’s a chance to redeem himself and show us all that he isn’t going to be taken lightly! He has a chance to prevail where other Junior Leaguers have failed, by taking that title away from the vile clutches of that nefarious cretin, Sacred!” “Impossible, I say. Sacred is showing that certain something that he hasn’t had in so long, and I believe I his abilities, and I believe he will dispatch of this puny Junior Leaguer in no time!” Just as he is about to rebuff, the awkward quiet in this arena is suddenly broken as ‘The Gauntlet’ kicks up to a huge response from the capacity crowd! The pyro at both sides of the stage explodes in a flurry, as that crazy cracker himself, the Insane Luchador, makes his appearance at the top of the stage! “Here he is! And don’t the crowd love Citizen Rickmen!?” admires Comet as he gazes out at the fans, cheering on insanely. “Despite how they may be feeling physically, both men will strive relentlessly for the USJL championship! Sacred has been quoted as saying that he feels the SWF titles have been passed around more than ‘a cheap French harlot’ and wants to keep that title around his waist as long as he can!” “And that he will do, my crazy companion. Just look at this guy, he’s an absolute joke! He should be on the streets, trying to impress pre-teen chicks with his l33t sk8ting abilities…” Luckily for Riley, Rickmen doesn’t hear those comments from Riley, as he comes out with a crazy look in his eye. He milks the crowd for all there worth, raising his arms and prompting even louder cheers! As he sprints down to ringside, Funyon announces to the crowd from his vantage point in the center of the ring… “Ladies and Gentleman…” he begins in his announcing tone. “The following match is for the S W F United States Junior League championship!” The prospect of such a match whips the fans into a frenzy, and causes a snaky grin to appear on Rickmen’s face. “Introducing first, from Easton Pennsylvania, standing six foot one, and weighing in at two hundred and six pounds… he is a former Junior League Champion… he is the INSSSSAAAANEEEE LUUUUUCHAAAAADOOOOR!” As the fans continue to cheer, Comet continues. “You may not take Citizen Rickmen seriously, Robert, but Sacred better gosh darn sure will if he knows what’s what! Two former Junior Leaguers have taken him to the extremes, to the limit Robert, and he better take them seriously if he wants to keep that title around his waist!” Rickmen begins his warm up, knowing the importance of it after last weeks massacre in the cage. Even as the picture begins to garble and become filled with static, he puts it out of his mind and continues to prepare himself. A voice suddenly strikes up through the PA system and sends a chill through the spines of each audience member in attendance, and commanding their undivided attention… … “…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 is soon returned to the control of the boys in the back, before the lights fade out. ‘Tainted’ begins to play its chilling, haunting tune as Sacred walks out to meet his adoring public, who greet him with the usual hate and loathing that they always do. Cyclone shakes his head as he watches his former stablemate begin his slow stroll down the ramp. “I cannot believe I ever fraternized with such a despicable specimen…” “Why bring Axis into this?” Spotlights at either side of the stage swivel around, casting their luster upon Blackwell as he simply smirks, ignoring the fans jeers as he places his hands on the belt around his waist, keeping it close to him. “And his opponent…” Funyon suddenly booms to the audience, breaking the downright creepy atmosphere. “From Adelaide, Australia. He stands six foot one inches tall, and weighs in at two hundred and sixteen pounds…” Hopping up onto the ring apron, Blackwell enters the ring, immediately circling Rickmen like a hawk, sussing out his opponent as Funyon finally announces… “He is the S W F United States Junior League Champion… he is… SAAAACCCRRREEEEDDDD!” An inundation of hostility flows into the ring, but Sacred simply proceeds with his pre-match warm-up, just happy to hear the fans respond so loudly for him. Rickmen moves his head from side to side, trying to remove the kinks from last show’s brutal match. “And we’re nearly set to go here on Smarkdown once again, as both men approach each other in the center of the ring. This is the first meeting between these two, If I’m not mistaken, and I’m usually not,” notes Cyclone, grinning profusely at his own perfection. “Hard to believe isn’t it? These two have been with the company so long, and they haven’t yet crossed paths. They’ve seen a lot of changes in the SWF, and must be angered to see this crop of new schoolers dominate the SWF as they have been…” Unlatching the title from around his waist, Sacred takes one last loving look at it before handing it to the referee, who holds it up high for all the fans to see! They respond with utter enthusiasm as Funyon leaves the ring with the title, and the referee points to the timekeeper to ring the bell! ‘DING! DING! DING!’ The two begin to circle, watching every move the other makes. While in this state of heightened readiness, Sacred gives a knowing little nod to Rickmen, and a sincere look as the two prepare to hook up. Rickmen returns it as the two hold their arms up, twiddling their fingers as they come closer and closer together. Knowing not to strike so fool heartily as he did last week in the cage match, Rickmen keeps a safe distance before they finally hook up, entering into an elementary test of strength. Much to Sacred’s surprise, Rickmen’s youthful enthusiasm gets the better of him as the former JL champion begins to push him back! To counter this, Blackwell rolls onto his back, dragging Rickmen down with him as he plants his feet into the Luchador’s chest and sends him flying with a monkey flip! “Even Citizen Sacred knows to respect his opponents. The one’s that deserve it anyway,” notes Cyclone. “There’s that certain amount of bitterness and churlishness about Sacred that I just love.” “Are you looking through my thesaurus!?” Yells Comet, swiping away his precious wordsmith. Despite the early setback, Rickmen rolls right back to his feet, just in time to anticipate Sacred’s charge and counter with an Arm Drag! Sacred pirouettes back onto two feet, a smile on his face as Rickmen smirks, waiting for him. The fans are intrigued by the disposition of both men as the Luchador feels confident enough to charge at his opponent, only to have him sidestep at the last second. Rickmen hits the strands, hopping over Sacred who lies on the canvas. Blackwell twirls back to his feet and leaps from a standing start, latching onto Rickmen’s neck and snapping him over with an Ankle Scissors! “Sacred slides over quickly for the cover, but Rickmen immediately kicks out after only a second!” cries Comet. “This is sure to be a tight contest, with neither man having a distinct advantage in height or weight, though one could argue that Sacred has more experience.” “One could, and it could be me! Sacred’s been to the big dance over and over again, and knows all the trick of the trade to squeak through in even the most heated contests.” Before Rickmen can climb to his feet, Sacred maneuvers himself into position, slapping on a front face lock. Both men are on their knees now as Sacred torques the Luchador’s neck, but Rickmen begins to stir and writhes himself free. In a flash he takes Blackwell by the arm and moves to the side, taking Sacred down with a spinning armbar! The Australian cries out as the Insane one spins around again and again! “Shades of Tom Flesher with Sacred’s choice of the front face lock,” notes Comet wisely. “But Rickmen was up to the task and countered into a very painful spinning armbar!” Still holding onto his opponents arm, Rickmen flips over the top of him and rolls him up schoolboy style! O N E! But Sacred kicks out with relative ease and immediately finds his feet to meet Rickmen. The Luchador attempts to surprise Blackwell by leaping up onto his shoulders, ready for a Hurricanrana! Sacred is all no dice mate and flips Rickmen off of his shoulders! The Insane one flies through the air but lands back on his feet, very awkwardly. The split second it takes for Rickmen to regain his footing is all Sacred needs to grab him by the hand and pull him into a rising knee lift! With Rickmen doubled over, Sacred has enough time to grab him tightly by the waistline and throw his arm over his head. Sacred then lifts Rickmen off the mat to a complete vertical base, ready to drop him! Suddenly, the Luchador slips free, floats over and lands behind the Aussie! Before Sacred can react, Rickmen leaps into the air and dropkicks him in the back of the head! “We can see already,” Comet notes, “that this will be extremely back and forth! If one Citizen lets up for even a split hair of a second, the other will pounce, and pounce with brutal efficiency!” “Efficient is not the best way to describe Rickmen. There’s no method to his madness, no technique to his torture, he just wants to hurt his opponents in every way possible, and if he doesn’t watch himself, Sacred will wait and pick his spot and incapacitate him just like he did to that chump Jenkins!” The Sacred One hits the ropes chest first and bounces back as the Insane one waits eagerly. He latches on Sacred’s neck and runs forward, using the ropes as a springboard to launch himself into the air, twist around and absolutely plant Sacred with a Bulldog! The fans let out rousing cheers as IL moves into the cover! O N E! T W – But the Australian kicks out! The Aussie attempts to retreat and regroup, but Rickmen will have none of this as he pounds on his opponent with hard right hands while lifting him to his feet. The Luchador attempts an Irish Whip but Sacred reverses, sending the Luchador into the strands. As Rickmen returns, Sacred charges out of the blocks and takes him down with a Flying Forearm! Rickmen is stunned but rolls back to his feet, only to have Sacred connect with a Leg Lariat and hit him in the jaw! The Insane One lives up to his name however and keeps getting back to his feet, ready to take more and more punishment. Sacred is only too happy to oblige as he kicks the Luchador in the breadbasket and shoves him into a standing headscissors! “He may be looking to rub out Rickmen only minutes into this contest!” Riley cries happily, waiting to see the carnage after his move. “It’s a mistake I tell you Robert! IL has absorbed all the pain he’s delivered thus far and is still too fresh for Citizen Sacred to even attempt such a move!” Comet’s claims turn out to be wise words as Sacred lifts the Luchador up onto his shoulders and runs from corner to corner, attempting the running Lyger Bomb on the Luchador! Sacred suddenly loses his grip on the Luchador as IL falls behind his opponent! Sacred then barrels chest first into the turnbuckles and is forced backwards from the hit. The Luchador goes up top onto Blackwell’s shoulders, and then spins around, taking Blackwell down into the turnbuckles with a flying headscissors! “Sacred hoped he could surprise Citizen Rickmen, but it was not to be! He’s made some rookie mistakes in this match, very uncharacteristic of him wouldn’t you say Robert?” “Pish posh! Everyone is prone to make at least one little mistake, even me! The importance of each match for him has multiplied ten-fold each week, because he knows that if he loses one bout, just one single bout, the powers that be will make sure that he never breaks through the midcard ceiling!” “Oh please!” argues Comet, shaking his head furiously. “You can’t expect me to believe that! Citizen Sacred has made his own choices and he has only himself to blame for never reaching the heights he once did!” “That’s pure, unadulterated crap! The Kliq has kept him down! The Kliq has controlled him! The Kliq holds that glass ceiling in place! The Kliq-“ As Riley’s feed is suddenly and suspiciously cut, IL has Sacred in the center of the ring, simply wailing on him with right hooks! Sacred begins to waver as Rickmen throws him into the ropes with an Irish Whip, but Sacred hooks his arms around the top rope to prevent himself from going any further! Rickmen charges once again, but Sacred bats him away with a boot to the face! This doesn’t stop IL for long as he charges again, but Sacred hits him again! The Luchador stumbles backward, giving Sacred time to confront him with… “CRACK!” … A brutal knife-edge chop! “A thunderous knife-edge chop from Citizen Blackwell!” Comet cringes, hearing the blow. “One of his specialties and a great equalizer!” “Yes, his specialty, and just about everyone else in the damn fed….” “CRACK!” Another is delivered, leaving a beet red mark across the Luchador’s chest! IL cringes as Sacred takes him by the hand and attempts to whip him into the turnbuckles, but Rickmen digs in and suddenly stops the flow! Sacred tries once again but IL hangs on! Suddenly reversing the momentum, the Luchador counts the Irish Whip with one of his own, sending Blackwell into the turnbuckles! IL rushes forward and jumps up onto his opponent, hands on his shoulders and feet digging into his thighs, ready to take him over with a Monkey Flip! Sacred counters this by grabbing the Luchador and throwing him over the top rope! “Oh no, this doesn’t look good, Citizen Rickmen could land in a very deathly posit- NO! He holds onto the top rope and lands on the apron!” yells Cyclone. “IL keeps thwarting Sacred’s genius plans! Damn ruffian, he’s obviously learnt his lesson from last week and avoiding every move Sacred tries on him like the plague!” “That’s right Robert. He was man handled by Aecas in that cage, and no matter how much punishment he can take; he finally buckled under the strength of that maniacal monster! But this week, he’s facing an opponent his size, and his very pride on the line as he attempts to redeem himself and win that USJL Championship!” As the commentators blabber on, IL surprises Sacred with a shoulder charge through the second rope to knock him away! With Sacred stumbling across the canvas, IL places his hands on the top rope and leaps up onto the top turnbuckle… then flies off, sailing through the air and crashing down on top of Sacred with a Crossbody! “Beautiful move from the Luchador, taking advantage of the situation once again! And he’s covering!” O N E! T W O! But again, Sacred finds enough in reverse to kick out! The crowd is up and cheering, not disappointed in the slightest as they watch IL take it to the Australian! Blackwell rolls onto his feet however, determined to strike back. IL keeps the pressure applied as he whips Sacred into the ropes, waiting for him to return. The Australian ducks underneath a wild clothesline and continues into the opposite strands. As he returns he tries to leap into the air and take IL around the neck for a Tornado DDT, but IL counters smartly by simply dropping Blackwell down across his knee with an Atomic Drop! With the Australian checking to see if his loins are still there, IL kicks him in the midsection and locks on a front face lock, planting him with a DDT! “Nasty, nasty DDT for a nasty man! Citizen Rickmen drives the evil Australian’s head into the canvas, and could have it right here, an- wait… he’s pulling Citizen Blackwell back up into another face lock!” “Shite! He’s looking for the rolling DDT’s! I don’t blame him for trying these so early though, because, and I hate to admit it, but he’s absolutely schooled Blackwell and looks in a commanding position…” Rickmen adeptly rolls back onto his feet, dragging Sacred up with him, still holding onto his neck. This time, though, he has the Australian in a reverse front face lock! The crowd leaps to their feet as Rickmen raises his arm before dropping Blackwell down on the back of his head with an Inverted DDT! “Amazing!” cries Cyclone. “Citizen Rickmen knew that Blackwell, in all his experience, would be expecting another DDT in much the same fashion, and so mixed things up to confuse and decimate his opponent, and it worked no less!” Riley pleads, praying to the heavens above. “Damn it, Sacred! Don’t let the Kliq win! Kick out, please! Don’t let this Junior Leaguer take the title!” The Insane one makes a point float over and hook Sacred by the leg as the referee slides over, slamming his palm on the canvas for the count! O N E! T W O! T - But Sacred rolls his shoulder off of the mat! “YEAH!” cries Bobbo as the crowd sighs; almost sure IL could have had the match won right there. Rickmen remains determined and focused however, as he lifts the Australian back onto his feet… still holding into his neck! This time, though, he signals to the crowd that this is the end, as he prepares himself for the Evenflow DDT! Knowing too well the dangerous situation he’s in, Blackwell takes advantage of IL’s momentary distraction by wrapping his arms around his waist, linking his hands together and taking IL over onto his back with a Northern Lights Suplex! With the Luchador’s shoulders pinned to the mat, the referee counts, the fans calling desperately for IL to kick out! O N E! T W O! T H - “Where did that come from!?” Comet asks, utterly surprised, and gutted. “IL had it won, I’m sure of it!” “That came straight from last week,” Riley answers with a sly grin. “IL should have studied his tapes, because if he had he would have known that Sacred used that same exact move to counter from that position against Spike Jenkins!” And IL gets his shoulders off the canvas to break the count! But not in the conventional manner as he pulls himself up and off the canvas, the two men still held together! From this position, IL walks to the corner, using the turnbuckles as stepping-stones to reach the top and launch off, flipping over and landing in front of Sacred! The Australian is ready for him and gives him a swift kick to the gut, before lifting him up to a vertical base for a Brainbuster! Blackwell, try as he might, is losing his grip on Rickmen as he resists, wriggling and writing to get away. The fans are about to cry out in unison, as IL is about to drag Blackwell down into a roll up… …But Sacred acts quickly, turning around a throwing IL over the top rope and out onto the floor! The fans watch Rickmen fly through the air and unceremoniously hit the floor, his legs buckling as they hit the concrete floor! “NO!” Comet shouts, shaking his head as he watches Rickmen cry out in pain, grabbing his leg. “Just as the tide was about to turn again, Blackwell counters like the convict he is!” “Oh boy, that was quite the nasty tumble the Luchador took there,” Bobbo replies mockingly. “I do hope he’s ok, or Sacred will…” Before Riley can even finish his sentence, Blackwell has made his way outside of the ring. The referee pleads to bring this title match back into the ring, but Sacred has other, cruel intentions in mind. IL drapes himself over the crowd barrier as fans pat him on the back for support, which really does help when a crazy, violent Australian is looming over the top of you. Said Australian grabs the Luchador and picks him back up, his eyes focusing firmly on that leg as he grins maniacally. Sacred lifts Insane off the concrete by his left ankle and drops his knee across the crowd barrier! Riley is very pleased. “And now Sacred goes to work! IL landed hard right on that left leg and it buckled. BADLY,” saying badly with a big, stupid smile on his face. “This is unjust treatment! Over the last month, Sacred’s opponents have gotten the better of him, but he always finds an equalizer in a weak spot on their body! Just as he’s doing now, working on that left leg happily! Just despicable!” The crowd “OOH!” as Sacred lifts IL up again and drops him leg first across the steel steps! “CLANG!” IL lets out a piercing cry as he folds up into a ball, trying to protect his leg. The referee’s count reaches five, as Blackwell stops to chat with some of the fans, asking them if they’d like to join an ‘experiment.’ While he does this, IL intelligently rolls back into the ring! Blackwell’s eyes open wide as he chases the insane one back into the ring, breaking the referee’s count. “Very n00bish of Citizen Sacred to let IL get away like that!” Comet shouts. “IL is in safer territory, but will have to combat Sacred and a bad leg to prevail…” Sacred mercilessly attacks the leg, stomping on the knee at will while IL tries to drag himself away into the corner. Sacred doesn’t let up though as Rickmen pulls himself to his feet valiantly, trying to force Sacred away with right hands! These work only momentarily as Sacred goes right back to leg, lifting it up and then taking IL over with a Dragon Screw Leg Whip. Blackwell makes sure the move positions IL in the center of the ring, before gazing out at the fans who boo him terribly, calling for IL to fight on! Sacred sets out to dash their hopes as he takes IL’s left leg and spins around, grabbing his opposite leg and… “It’s the Deprogrammer!” cries Comet. “An upright figure four that could make any one tap! But with IL only minutes ago injuring that leg, it could be all over!” “You bet your ass it’s over! This move defeated Mak Francis, made him give up! And now with both men positioned in the center of the ring, he’ll make the Insane Luchador tape too!” The crowd is suddenly hotter than ever, the entire audience calling for IL to hold on just al little bit longer! Sacred has the best seat in the house as he looks over IL, wrenching on his legs in one twisted mess. IL tries desperately to do anything to counter, trying to wrench his legs away, but Blackwell is in a perfect position to knock him back down with forearms! “Listen to this crowd get behind Citizen Rickmen! He sure is a fighter, and will work through any pain to succeed!” IL plans to prove Cyclone Comet correct as he begins to rock on his back, trying to build up some momentum as the crowd begins to chant his name! Sacred’s smile soon vanishes as he is worried by Rickmen’s fight and he tries to knock him back down. The Insane one shakes his head, smiling as he rocks over further, sending the two onto their side. The crowd suddenly explodes as IL digs his fingernails into the canvas and pulls himself over, reversing the move to his advantage! Now Sacred is the one feeling the pinch! “He reversed it!” Comet shouts, literally jumping out of his seat! “Sacred didn’t expect him to withstand so much pain and didn’t sink the hold in as much as he could, and Rickmen showed his INSANE tolerance for pain by fighting through it and reversing the move!” As soon as the tables are turned, Blackwell crawls forward as quickly as he can and grabs the bottom rope! He is forced to let go and climbs back onto his feet, but IL is there to meet him! Rickmen fires off some right hands; taking out his frustrations through his fists as he rearranges Sacred’s face. He then whips… No! It’s reversed! IL is sent into the strands and bounces back, lifted up into the air by Sacred, and sent in a spiral by a tilt-a-whirl! … But the Luchador lands back on his feet! No matter how much it pains him to counter in such a way, he works through it, waiting for Sacred’s enraged charge and cutting it short wit ha drop toe hold! Sacred hits the canvas face first but rolls right back to his feet, only to see Rickmen leap onto the second rope, then the top rope, springboarding off and hitting Sacred with a Moonsault! “HOW!? How can he perform such a move!? His leg has been torn to pieces, yet he can still spring around like a freaking jumpy… thing!” “Citizen Rickmen is no rookie! He’s been around and he’s perfected his moves, his strengths! And one thing he is the foremost expert at is using those ropes to his advantage to spring from anywhere and with only ONE leg!” The crowd goes absolutely nuts as IL covers Sacred, the referee sliding over quickly to count the three! “O N E!” “T W O!” “T H R E E E E…” “He’s got it! We’ve got a new champion!” Comet shouts happily! …But NOOOO! Sacred kicks out! The fans are furious! They call for the referee to be hanged as IL looks up desperately at the unlucky referee who simply shrugs his shoulders, holding up only two fingers. Rickmen shakes his head but knows his time is short and has to dispatch Sacred pronto. Blackwell tries to cut him off, suddenly hooking his arm underneath Rickmen for the Spanish Inquisition! The crowd pops for the move they haven’t seen in so long, but pop even harder when IL bats him away with back elbows to the side of the head! Blackwell is knocked silly by the elbows and is turned around, allowing Rickmen to take him in a Full Nelson! “Citizen Rickmen is on the Bring of Insanity, ready to hit the Brink of Insanity!” “NO! Sacred has to do something, and knowing him, he has something in mind even now!” But Rickmen is able to continue with the move, running to the turnbuckles and using one leg to hop onto the second rope, followed by the third as he twists around… … But Blackwell wrenches his arms free as Rickmen falls to earth, grabbing him by the knee and bringing it down across his leg! The crowd all rise as Rickmen cries out, and Blackwell takes him in a front face lock… “This is it! He’s going for it!” “I can’t believe he countered! Rickmen had his finisher countered at the last possible second as the dastardly and devious Sacred takes advantage and slams his knee against his own!” The crowd pull for Rickmen, but Blackwell holds him in place, bringing his leg up, tightening his grip around Rickmen’s neck and swinging his leg back… “WHAM!” … Hitting the… “CRUEL FATE!” Both announcers cry, Riley in orgasm, Cyclone in despair. Rickmen’s face bounces off the canvas and his body lies limp as Blackwell feels the recoil of the move, grabbing his stomach, but slowly rolling over to drape his shoulder across IL’s chest… “Kick out you crazy Luchador! You’re so close!” Comet vainly shouts, almost already resigned to his fate. “O N E!” “T W O!” “T H R E EEEEEEEEE!” DING! DING! DING! The crowd are on their feet and jeering together as Sacred slides away and out of the ring, landing on his feet and making another swift getaway as the referee slides out of the ring with his USJL title, handing it to him and raising his arm in victory. Comet shakes his head, trying to continue as “Tainted” kicks up. “Andrew Rickmen was so close to claiming his first piece of SWF gold, only to be denied by the cunning crafty Sacred, taking advantage of that injured leg to pull through!” “Tish pish sure nonsense! Blackwell wants that title, and wants to win more than anything, and will DO anything to pull through. If anyone else were in his position, they would have done the same! But, at the same time, I have to give IL his props. He fought one helluva match tonight…” “That he did my ambiguous friend, and I know we’ll see him pursuing more gold soon enough, but Citizen Sacred is the winner and he keeps that United States Junior League title, for now at least, but something’s gotta give Robert, mark my words!” The picture fades out to a commercial, showing Sacred cling to the title, keeping it close to his chest… Edited February 17, 2004 by realitycheck Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted February 17, 2004 Fresh off of the EXCITING~ and EXHILARATING~ USJL Title match between Sacred and the Insane Luchador, Ben Hardy traverses the halls of the Bryce Jordan Center, looking for either his virginity or HVT's wrestling ability. During his search, however, he bumps into a mountain - well, more like a hill - of a man, with the Intercontinental Television Championship belt draped across his shoulder. Grappler eyes Ben Hardy up and down as the Penn State fans react to the sight with a mix of cheers and jeers (words only used because they rhyme). "Mis- Mister Matthews!" greets Hardy, "I apologize, I was just looking around for something, but hey, since you're here, would you mind me asking you a few questions?" "I surmise that I probably don't have a choice," replies Matthews, rolling his eyes, "but go on, Ben, I'm in a good mood." "Well, actually, that was my first question; how are you feeling after the Unnamed's betrayal and your subsequent joining of the Unholy Trinity? But I guess you ans-" "Whoa whoa whoa, hold up a second, Ben," interrupts Grappler, "did you say 'join the Unholy Trinity'?" "Actually, sir, I said quote, 'and your subsequent joining of the Unholy Trinity' unquote, but you came close." Charlie sighs before responding, "Ben, I *never* joined the Unholy Trinity, and I never will. Just because they helped me out against the Unnamed doesn't mean I'm in their little group. Just because we have common enemies doesn't mean we're buddies. I still hate Dace, I still hate Aecas, and I still hate Janus. None of that has changed. I respect them, yes, but I will never be friends with them. I hope I've made that clear. Next question." Hardy backs off a step, but then summons the courage to continue, "Now, uh, what are your thoughts on the main event tonight, where your former stablemate and current world champion, Va'aiga, defends his title against Dace Night in a Time bomb Exploding Chicken McCheese Deathmatch?" "To say I'm miffed would be an understatement," begins Grappler, "and for the record, miffed is a bizarre word to begin with. Regardless, I'm upset with Dace getting a title shot so early, seeing as I actually *earned* it by beating 19 other guys in the Clusterfuck two weeks ago. Sure, I'm guarenteed my shot at From the Fire in a two straight falls match regardless of who the Champion is, but I need to be ready for whoever I'm facing." "Is there any preference as to who wins this match?" "With the time bomb and what not, I'm thinking both guys explode and die and the title's vacant." Ben's eyes widen and he slowly backs away, but Grappler laughs a bellowing laugh and pulls Hardy back. "Ben, that was my attempt at comedy. Bear with me. I'd like to see Dace win this; I've proven time and time again that I can beat him, and From the Fire would be no different. Like I said, I respect the guy, but a World Title match against him would be a cakewalk. But Va'aiga, I really, really, REALLY hope you win tonight. Your kicking me out of the Unnamed was only the START of your demise, sir, and when it's all said and done, you're going to wish you never crossed me." Matthews lets the words sink in, and then turns to Ben. "That sounded a bit too cliché, didn't it?" Hardy nods, and finally speaks, "Ye-yes sir. Umm, final question, what do you think about Annie quotation marks Ichiban quotation marks Onita returning and making a big impact and whatnot?" "Ah, right, I almost forgot about Annie beating our World Champion. Hey, that just makes the job easier for me. She beat Va'aiga already, and when I beat her tonight, that'll just further cement my status as the next SWF World Heavyweight Champion. Clusterfuck, ICTV Title, US Title, Tag Team Title...Annie, I've accomplished too much in my short SWF tenure to have you return for the 45,263,212th time and steal my thunder. Tonight, I make an example out of you. Insert catchphrase here." Matthews storms off, leaving Hardy along again in his search for his virginity. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted February 17, 2004 “We’re just about ready for tonight’s Cruiserweight Title match,” says Comet. “And folks, last week, on Lockdown, Alan Clark managed to defeat newcomer Toxxic to earn a shot at Wildchild’s Cruiserweight Championship! And tonight, he’ll get a chance to test his skills against a superstar that he says he’s admired for quite some time!” “If you ask me,” intones Riley, “Clark got a little bit of a pass for this match; I mean, it’s just his dumb luck that more worthy contenders were already tied up. No offense to Toxxic, but with the likes of Todd Royal, Landon Maddix and even Manson running around here, the fact that Toxxic was the one who ended up going against Alan Clark with a title shot on the line only goes to show that Stevens is showing favoritism towards Clark!” “That’s a pretty strong accusation,” admonishes Comet. “I can’t imagine that Commissioner Stevens would ever deliberately do something such as that!” “You can’t be that naïve,” replies Riley. “He’s already exhibited overt bias against the Unnamed, Michael Craven and HVT; do you really believe that he’s not biased in favor of Clark?” “Well, speaking of HVT,” continues Comet, essentially no-selling Riley’s point, “Last week on Lockdown, after Alan Clark returned to the backstage area following his match, he found himself the victim of a brutal attack by Thugg!” << Flashback: The screen switches to a clip from Lockdown of Thugg attacking Alan Clark backstage: >> 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 << The screen now shifts to later on in the evening, when Thugg came down to the ring. Comet’s voice is heard over that of HVT badmouthing Alan Clark, Michael Craven and Spike Jenkins >> Comet (VO): And later on that evening, Thugg came down to the ring, and basically called out every superstar in the SWF… CRACK! RAAAAAAAAAA!! (Comet) – OH MY GOD!! THAT’S NOT SPIKE JENKINS!! Comet (VO): But, as far as the commissioner was concerned, he’d gone over the line for the last time! (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!! << Skipping ahead >> (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. << Skipping ahead >> 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. << The scene then shifts to the closing shots of Lockdown… >> Comet (VO): And then, as Thugg was leaving the building, he found a little insult added to his injury! 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 (bleep)?!? 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, “(BLEEP)”, 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. << End Flashback >> “As you all just saw,” concludes Comet, “Thugg might have gotten the better of Alan Clark earlier in the evening, but it would appear that Citizen Clark got in the last word!” “Comet,” says Riley, “if you think for a second that Clark got in the last word on Thugg, then you’re even goofier than that mask makes you look! Thugg may have been fired, but he’s not about to let some no-name like Alan Clark get the better of him! Clark isn’t safe anywhere in the world until Thugg finally gets through with him, regardless of whether he’s working in this company or not!” “What are you implying,” asks Comet. “Because there’s no way that Thugg would be allowed into the arena! First of all, he’s in Washington DC right now. And secondly, even if that were all some kind of elaborate hoax, he still wouldn’t even dare; the second he tried, Central Pennsylvania’s finest would be on hand to escort him back out of the building!” “Yeah,” replies Riley, “but you’re forgetting, Comet; Thugg’s from the streets! I don’t think that he cares all that much whether or not he’s working for the SWF when it comes to revenge; Clark better keep his head on a swivel, because the second that he lets his guard down, Thugg is going to come from out of the shadows and wreck his (bleep)!” MUWHAHAHAHA! A sinister belly laugh precedes the familiar waiting of an electric guitar! The State College crowd becomes anxious as DMX’s “Who We Be” begins to play. THEY DON’T KNOW… WHO WE BEEEEEE… “What was that you were saying about Thugg not daring to come to the arena,” laughs Riley. THEY DON’T KNOW… WHO WE BEEEEEE… “It can’t be,” exclaims Comet. WHAT THEY DON’T KNOW IS… BOOM! The stage explodes in a wall of fire, leaving only a small path in the center. The fans become increasingly restless as they expect Thugg’s imminent arrival, and sure enough, a silhouette eventually becomes visible from behind the wall of fire. “Here he comes,” exclaims Riley. “This should teach you to doubt Thugg! He wouldn’t dare, huh?” “Wait a minute,” says Comet, squinting towards the stage. “That’s not Thugg!” Suddenly, the crowd breaks into a mixture of cheers and laughter as they see not the HVille Thugg, but Alan Clark stepping out onto the stage! He has a white Turkish bath towel over his head, and poses at the head of the ramp, openly mocking Thugg! “It’s Alan Clark,” shouts Comet. “But what’s he doing coming out to Thugg’s music?” “Signing his own death warrant, that’s what,” spits Riley. “Don’t think for a second that Thugg is going to just let this slide!” Clark reaches the foot of the ramp and dives towards the ring, sliding underneath the bottom rope and quickly returning to his feet alongside Funyon, who raises the microphone to his lips to make the introductions. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship! In the ring at this time, from Long Beach, California, weighing two hundred twenty-five pounds, ALAN CLAAAARK!” “You know,” growls Riley, as Clark prances around the ring, continuing to mock Thugg, “seeing this kid in the ring like this makes me resent Stevens even more!” Comet looks askew at Riley. “What are you babbling about now, Robert?” “This nutjob isn’t deserving at a Cruiserweight Title shot,” Riley says caustically. “By all rights, that belt belongs to the Unnamed! Whether it be Landon Maddix, or the Lord Todd himself, Wildchild’s just keeping that belt warm for them. Clark isn’t anywhere close to their level, and has no business being in this match!” Clark tosses the towel into the crowd as “Who We Be” slowly fades out, and the Pennsylvania fans become frantic as the lights dim throughout the Bryce Jordan Center, heralding the arrival of the Cruiserweight Champion! 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… The fans erupt as Redman’s “Let’s Get Dirty” begins to pulse throughout the arena. A single spotlight pierces the darkness, focusing on the stage entrance even as it flickers on and off in rhythm with the music. In between flashes, the Cruiserweight Champion hops out onto the stage, proudly wearing the Cruiserweight Title around his waist as he rushes to the head of the stage, holding his arms in the air as the crowd cheers! “Alan Clark better take his mind off of Thugg right now,” shouts Comet, “because here comes the Cruiserweight Champion!” Wildchild jogs down the ramp, slapping hands with the fans, and takes a victory lap around the ringside area before somersaulting between the bottom and middle ropes to enter the ring. “His opponent,” continues Funyon, as Wildchild hops down from the ropes, “from the Bahamas, weighing two hundred fourteen pounds, he is the SWF Cruiserweight Champion… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” Wildchild surrenders the Championship belt to referee Anthony Michael Hall, who holds it aloft for all to see before handing it to Funyon as he is leaving the ring. “Alan Clark is an outstanding Cruiserweight wrestler,” says Comet. “He’s fought through a lot of adversity to get to this match against Wildchild, a superstar that he has personally looked up to. Time to find out if he actually has what it takes to shock the world and become the new Cruiserweight Champion!” Wildchild and Alan look across the ring at each other as Hall motions to timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match. DING! DING! DING! “Bell’s gone,” says Comet, “And we’re underway!” Clark and Wildchild circle each other around the ring, with the crowd already on the edge of their seats in anticipation. DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! Wildchild stops to acknowledge the cheers of the fans, clapping his hands in rhythm with their chants. As if in rebuttal, a small but very vocal contingent of fans across the arena begin to chant for Alan Clark: AL-AN! AL-AN! AL-AN! AL-AN! Clark waves his hands in the air as if to say, “That’s more like it.” He and Wildchild continue to circle each other again before meeting in the center of the ring for a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Wildchild quickly transitions into a side headlock, but Clark backs him against the ropes and pushes him across the ring. SMACK! Wildchild flashes back off the ropes, using his speed more than either size or strength to his advantage to catch Alan by surprise, knocking him to the mat with a shoulderblock! Clark remains on the canvas as Wildchild bounces off the ropes again and runs over the top of him. He pops to his feet and leaps into the air as the Tropical Tumbler somersaults underneath him, and races towards the edge of the ring the second his feet touch the canvas. This time, it’s Wildchild who drops to the mat as he bounces off the ropes and runs over the top of him… WHAM! … But the Human Hurricane leaps into the air as Clark bounces off the ropes a second time, wrapping his legs around his neck and jerking him through the air with a beautiful rana! Wildchild floats over into an immediate pin attempt as Hall dives into position to count the shoulders: ONE! But Clark kicks out easily at one! Wildchild gets back to his feet and walks over to Hall, arguing a slow count… WHAM! … Allowing Clark to sneak up behind Wildchild and wrap his hands around the Champion’s waist, jerking him backwards off of the mat and into a German Suplex pin! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! “It’s been pretty even so far in this match,” notes Comet, as Clark pulls Wildchild to his feet. “It looks like it’s going to be the speed of Wildchild versus the relative power of Alan Clark!” Clark wows the crowd with an impressive display of strength, lifting the Bahama Bomber above his head in a military press, with a little effort, and carrying him over to the edge of the ring… CRASH! … Dumping him to the outside! “Look at the power display by Alan Clark,” exclaims Comet. “He got Wildchild up in the air and dumped him outside the ring like a bad habit!” Hall begins to start his ten-count as Wildchild recovers outside the ring: ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! Alan waits until Wildchild gets back to his feet and then races towards the edge of the ring, tumbling into an acrobatic cartwheel sequence as he bounces off the ropes, and leaping over the top rope to the outside of the ring… SPLASH! … Twisting in midair before crashing into the Caribbean Cruiser with a Space Flying Tiger Drop! “The Pitch Drop,” marvels Comet. “Shades of the Wildchild himself! I guess we don’t have to worry about Thugg being on his mind!” “Believe me, Comet,” replies Riley, as Clark rolls back into the ring, “when you cross paths with somebody like Thugg, he’s ALWAYS on your mind!” Wildchild uses the apron and the bottom rope to pull himself back to his feet, and crawls underneath the bottom rope… WHAM! … Only to be met by Alan Clark, who measures him for a textbook legdrop! Clark pulls him to his feet, but only long enough to lift him off of the canvas and drop him back down with a scoop slam! Alan runs across the ring, bouncing off the ropes to build momentum, and races back towards the Cruiserweight Champion… SPLASH! … Leaping into the air on a dead run and flipping forward through the air and crashing into Wildchild with a running Shooting Star Press! He hooks the outside leg as Hall delivers the three count: ONE! TWO! THR— NO! “Just barely missed out on the three count,” shouts Comet. “I thought that running Shooting Star Press might be enough, but the Champion dug deep to hang on in this match!” Clark steps out onto the apron as Wildchild recovers inside the ring, and makes his way over towards the corner, but the Human Hurricane pops to his feet suddenly and beats Alan to the corner, leaping onto the middle turnbuckle and springing over the top rope… BANG! … Snaring him by the head while in mid-flight and driving his head into the padded arena floor with a Springboard Tornado DDT! “BIG TIME DDT by the Wildchild,” shouts Comet. “Alan Clark made the mistake of letting his guard down against the Cruiserweight Champion, and it’s cost him severely!” Wildchild rolls back into the ring as Alan is gathering himself out on the arena floor, and walks over to the corner, scaling to the top turnbuckle. “Don’t think for a second that Wildchild is going to let Alan Clark get the better of him in a high-flying contest! Look out for some aerial artistry!” Wildchild leaps off the turnbuckle towards center of the top rope, his body facing the inside of the ring. He lands in a seated position on the top rope as Clark gets back to his feet outside the ring… SPLASH! … And springs from that very same seated position backwards out of the ring, flipping backwards through the air to crash into Clark with an unconventional but spectacular moonsault press! DUB CEE! DUB CEE! DUB CEE! DUB CEE! The crowd chants out Wildchild’s initials to express their pleasure with his aerial offense as the Bahama Bomber gets back to his feet. He pulls Alan to his feet as well and leads him over to the ring apron, rolling him underneath the bottom rope. Wildchild pulls himself onto the apron and vaults over the top rope, landing on the opposing middle rope and springing backwards… SPLASH! … Crashing into the challenger with a springboard moonsault! Wildchild hooks the outside leg as Hall drops down to count the shoulders: ONE! TWO! THRE— NO! “Two count only,” shrieks Comet. “Citizen Clark is still in this match!” Wildchild stands up and pulls Alan to his feet. Grabbing him by the wrist, he whips him across the ring, but the challenger reverses, catching him as he bounces off the ropes and launching him skyward… WHAM! … And grabbing him by the feet at the apex of his ascent, whipping his body around abruptly to slam him into the mat with the Southern Rock! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! “By Thor’s Hammer,” shrieks Comet. “He pulled that Southern Rock out of NOWHERE! Wildchild never saw it coming!” Rather than try for the pinfall, Clark rolls Wildchild over onto his back and locks their feet together before bending down and slapping the Champion’s ribs, forcing him to draw his arms to his sides out of reflex. “Uh oh,” moans Comet, as Clark grabs Wildchild’s wrists and begins to lean back. “It looks like we could be about to see a surfboard here!” The challenger leans back, hyper-extending the Caribbean Cruiser’s limbs, as he holds up towards the sky in a Mexican surfboard. Hall drops to a knee and asks Wildchild whether or not he wants to submit, but the Champion vigorously shakes his head no. “Wildchild’s fighting for all he’s worth to get out of this hold,” reports Comet, “but Citizen Clark is definitely in the driver’s seat right now!” Alan is so focused on applying pressure to the surfboard, however, that he fails to notice that his shoulders are flat against the canvas. Unfortunately, this fact does not escape the referee’s notice, and Hall begins to count a pinfall: ONE! TWO! TH— Realizing what was at stake, Alan manages to roll forward slightly to get his shoulders off the mat… SPLASH! … But the momentary lapse in concentration proved to provide the Bahama Bomber with just enough time for him to fight out of the submission hold, and twists around in midair, crashing into Clark’s chest with a short body press! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! Clark kicks out of the pinfall attempt easily and beats Wildchild to his feet, hammering him in the back with a clubbing forearm shot. Grabbing him by the wrist, Clark whips him across the ring, and launches him into the air once more as he bounces off the ropes… WHAM! … But this time, the Human Hurricane continues to rotate forward in midair and lands in a seated position on the challenger’s shoulders, and then locks his legs behind Alan’s head before arching his body backwards, ripping him through the air with a scintillating rana! “Never underestimate the agility of Wildchild,” shouts Comet, as the Tropical Tumbler pulls his opponent to his feet. “You’re never more than an instant away from being taken down with this guy!” Wildchild wraps his arm around Alan’s head, trapping him in a front facelock, but the challenger reverses, grabbing Wildchild by the wrist and twisting it into an arm-wringer. “Wildchild may have the speed advantage,” notes Riley, “but Clark appears to have the stronger wrestling background, and it’s only a matter of time before Wildchild starts to slow down!” Wildchild’s brain starts working in high gear, thinking of a way to escape the arm-wringer, and then he realizes that’s he’s within arm’s length of the ropes. Reaching out to grasp it with his free arm, the Caribbean Cruiser uses the rope to support his weight as he flips forward to alleviate the pressure of the hold. Before Alan can even react to it, Wildchild takes off at breakneck speed across the ring, his hand still linked with that of the challenger. The Bahama Bomber leaps onto the top rope and immediately springs off, floating gracefully through the air over the top of his opponent and jerking him off his feet as he lands on the canvas, launching Clark into the corner with a breathtaking springboard armdrag! “Springboard armdrag,” shouts Comet. “That’s vintage Wildchild right there!” Wildchild backs into the opposite corner as Alan pulls himself to his feet across the ring, and suddenly takes off, leaping into the air as he draws near to his opponent… SPLASH! … And twisting around before crashing into Clark with his patented twisting vertical body splash! “Blue Crush,” cries Comet, as Clark staggers out of the corner. “Boy, a springboard armdrag, and now the Blue Crush! Wildchild’s going deep into the bag of tricks tonight!” WHAM! Wildchild runs towards the ropes behind Clark as he staggers out of the ring and takes flight once again, trapping the challenger from behind with a flying side headlock and driving him face-first into the canvas with a bulldog! Upon landing on the canvas, the Caribbean Cruiser handsprings to his feet and spins his hands together overhead, the sign for the Falling Star Press! “Falling Star Press,” exclaims Comet, as the crowd begins to buzz in anticipation. “It’ll be back to the drawing board for Alan Clark if he hits this!” Wildchild runs towards the edge of the ring and leaps into the air, landing on the top rope. He then springs backwards as he flips in a forward motion to crash into the challenger with his patented Falling Star Press! CRASH! … But Alan Clark rolls forward at the last second, and Wildchild crashes into the canvas! The impact causes the Bahama Bomber to bounce up to his knees… CRACK! … And the challenger seizes his opportunity, rolling to his feet and suddenly breaking into a cartwheel, whipping his leg around suddenly to smack Wildchild in the face with a Tidal Crush kick! “By Zeus,” screams Comet. “One Hit Wonder! He pulled that out of NOWHERE!” Alan collapses on top of the Champion’s chest and waits for Hall to get into position to count the pin: ONE! TWO! THR— “No,” shrieks Comet. “Wildchild barely got the shoulder up! Oh my, was that ever close!” Alan stands up and pulls Wildchild to his feet, grabbing him by the wrist and whipping him across the ring, but the Human Hurricane surprises him by reversing the whip attempt… WHACK! And leaping into the air as Clark bounces off the ropes, slicing his leg through the air sharply to nearly decapitate the challenger with a fierce leg lariat! “Big time leg lariat,” shouts Comet, as Wildchild rolls to his feet. “That could spell the end for Alan Clark… And now, Wildchild’s going to the top!” The Tropical Tumbler walks over to the corner and leaps onto the top turnbuckle in one fluid motion. He measures his opponent’s position before leaping fearlessly off the turnbuckle, rotating his body along a horizontal axis as he extends his arms in a crucifix position… SPLASH! … Crashing into Alan’s chest with his patented twisting body splash! “Andros Dive,” cries Comet. “That’s going to do it!” Wildchild pulls back on the leg and the crowd chants along with referee Hall’s count: ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! “Oh my,” screams Comet. “Wildchild is pulling out all the stops in this match, but the challenger will not stay down!” Clark rolls over onto his stomach as Wildchild gets to his feet, slapping his thigh to indicate the Caribbean Cutter. The crowd cheers in anticipation yet again as they sense the end at hand. “This looks like the end,” says Riley. “No way that Clark gets up from the Cutter!” Wildchild runs to the ropes as Alan gets back to his feet, leaping into the air as he approaches the challenger’s bent frame and extending his leg over the back of his neck… OOF! … But Clark steps out of the way as the Bahama Bomber lands in front of him, and stuns him with a kick to the midsection long enough to trap him in a side headlock, spinning around suddenly while maintaining control of Wildchild’s head and dropping his weight to the canvas… WHAM! … Planting him face-first with Getting Amped Neckbreaker! “By Zeus,” exclaims Comet. “Alan Clark is Getting Amped! And we know what this means!” “It can’t be,” moans Riley, as Clark runs over to the corner and climbs to the top turnbuckle. “He’s not worthy! That title belongs to the Unnamed! The glory of taking that belt away from Wildchild belongs to them; he CAN’T win!” Alan glances back over his shoulder to make sure that the Champion is still motionless, and then prepares to launch himself off of the turnbuckles… MUWHAHAHAHA! … When the crowd suddenly lets out a collective gasp as that familiar belly laugh penetrates the airwaves once more! “No,” shrieks Comet. “That’s impossible!” THEY DON’T KNOW… WHO WE BEEEEEE… “I-I-I thought you said he was in DC,” stammers Riley. THEY DON’T KNOW… WHO WE BEEEEEE… “He is,” babbles Comet. “I mean, he has to be!” WHAT THEY DON’T KNOW IS… BOOM! Alan Clark’s attention is now completely trained on the stage, which becomes engulfed by fire. “Where is he,” asks Comet. “Bobby, do you see him?” “I can’t see anything after that pyro,” replies Riley. “Oh man, what was Clark thinking, getting involved in Thugg’s business?” “Getting involved in Thugg’s business,” challenges an exasperated Comet. “Thugg started this, not Citizen Clark!” The flames finally subside, and no one appears to be forthcoming from the back. “Who We Be” fades into the ethereal and still nothing, causing Clark to look out into the crowd apprehensively. “Clark is looking out into the crowd for Thugg,” notes Comet. “It looks like he’s still worried about him sneaking up on him!” “I don’t know why,” says Riley. “It’s not as if Thugg is the kind of guy that can hide!” Unnoticed by Clark, Wildchild regains consciousness and, seeing the challenger poised upon the top turnbuckle, springs into action! Racing to the corner and leaping up to meet Clark on the top turnbuckle, the Human Hurricane locks his hands behind the challenger’s head as he plants his feet into his stomach as he arches back… WHAAAAM! … Launching Clark off of the turnbuckle and three-quarters of the way across the ring with a monkey flip off the top! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! “By Hippolyta’s Girdle,” shouts Comet. “Freefall from the top rope! What an AMAZING maneuver!” Wildchild rolls to his feet and runs up behind Clark, the impact of the fall having nearly knocked him back to his feet. The Caribbean Cruiser tucks his head underneath Clark’s arm, locking his arms with those of his opponent as he lifts him off of the canvas, suspending him upside-down off of shoulders before kicking his legs out… WHAM! … Planting him head first into the mat with the Wild Ride! The crowd erupts as Wildchild rolls over to cover his opponent, and Hall drops down to count the pinfall: ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! “Let’s Get Dirty” begins to play once more as Hall orders the timekeeper to ring the bell, and then walks over to the edge of the ring to retrieve the Championship belt and return it to Wildchild. “Here is your winner,” says Funyon, “and STILL SWF Cruiserweight Champion… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” “Spectacular performance by the champion to retain his title,” says Comet, “but I can’t help but wonder how them match might have ended differently if not for Thugg! I’m sure he had something to do with that music and the pyro!” “Maybe,” replies Riley, “but you can’t prove it. At any rate, I’m happy that Wildchild won tonight, if only because it preserves the honor of dethroning him for the Unnamed! Your days are numbered, kid!” Wildchild remains on his back, clutching his title to his chest and breathing heavily… As we: FADE OUT Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted February 17, 2004 “WE ARE!” “PENN STATE!” “WE ARE!” “PENN STATE!” As SWF Smarkdown returns to the airwaves, the capacity crowd in the Bryce Jordan Center greets the television audience with their stunning rendition of the famous PSU chant! As the camera pans around the arena, thousands of signs are caught, including “They’re Unnamed because they have bees in their mouths, and whenever they open their mouths to talk, bees come out!” Sadly, the sign is so large that the entire row behind that one sign can’t see a thing. But it’s the SWF, so all is well and merry! “Welcome back, citizens!” greets a familiar voice, “I’m Cyclone Comet, alongside Bobbo Riley, ready to call the penultimate contest in what has been dubbed the SWF’s Night of Champions!” “I think this may be the first exciting thing Grand Sham’s done in his reign as commissioner!” adds Riley, “Tonight we’ve seen the USJL and Cruiserweight Titles on the line already, plus this upcoming ICTV Championship match, AND the gruesome World Title match to come! I love it!” “Nice to see you so jovial, Bobbo,” replies Comet, “and as you said, up next, Citizen Charlie Matthews defends his vaunted Intercontinental Television Championship in his first match since winning the 2004 Cluster-eff! He has a big challenge ahead of him, though, as Citizen Ann Onita returned on Lockdown and defeated none other than the SWF World Champion, Va’aiga!” “Fluke, fluke, fluke,” shoots Riley, “there’s no way in HELL that could’ve happened under normal circumstances. And by the way, I can’t believe you’re not singing Grappler’s praises! Usually when a guy switches sides you’re all over him, commending him and whatnot.” “Bobbo, I think I speak for all of the fans and commissioner Stevens when I say we just can’t TRUST the man yet. Sure, I applaud his powerbombing of Citizen Matheson last week, but he’s done such nefarious deeds in the past, we can never be sure. For all we know, this is part of some elaborate swerve to join back up with the Unnamed!” “What makes you think that’ll happen?” “Bobbo, it’s professional wrestling.” “Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon’s voice booms from the center of the ring, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the S – W – F INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP! Introducing first…” Megumi Hayashibara’s “Risky Gamble” echoes through the arena, and the crowd explodes just as the pyro does! *BOOM!* Really blue pyro shoots everywhere as Ann Onita appears on the stage, cigar in hand and sister in tow. “From Tokyo Japan,” continues Funyon, “accompanied by Allison Onita, this is ‘IIIIIIIIIIICHIBAAAAN’ ANNIIIIIIIIIIE OOOONIIIIIIIIITAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!” The wave of cheers from the crowd turns into a typhoon as Annie is greeted by one of the loudest ovations of the night. She smiles at the Pennsylvanians before sliding into the ring. Allison waves at some of the horny Penn State frat boys and takes her spot at ringside, clapping for her sister. “And her opponent…” Immediately, Metallica’s “Some Kind of Monster” kicks in and the lights dim, a single spotlight shining on the entrance to the arena. After the initial mixed reaction from the crowd, the lyrics of the song kick in and Charlie Matthews emerges from backstage, championship belt firmly around his waist and a look of complete determination on his face. “From Kansas City, Missouri, weighing in at three-hundred and one pounds, this is the Intercontinental Television Champion, this is CHAAAAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTHEWSSSSSSSSS!!!!” The uneasy Penn fans continue their befuddling mix of cheers and jeers, but Grappler ignores them as he marches up the steps and steps between the second and third ropes into the ring. He coolly removes his belt and hands it to referee Nick Soapdish, before taking his place in the opposite corner of Annie. Soapdish lifts the belt into the air for the fans to see, and then shows it to both Grappler and Annie. Both competitors nod, and Soapdish signals to the timekeeper to begin the match! *DING DING DING* “This should be an interesting, INTENSE match,” notes Comet, “I’ve gotten word that Commissioner Stevens spoke to Nick Soapdish earlier, telling him to watch for every tiny rule infraction. This is going to be the cleanest action you can find.” “How does clean wrestling equal intensity?” questions Riley, “In my humble opinion, that just makes things BORING. And who ever said Nick Soapdish had the best eyes for the job, anyway?” Both competitors step out of their respective corners, and immediately a huge “ANN – E!” chant bursts out from the audience. Grappler ignores the chants and lunges forward; Annie catches the drift and does the same, and the two lock horns in a collar-elbow tie-up. With the obvious strength advantage, Matthews easily forces Onita against the nearest turnbuckle, but before Soapdish can intervene, Grappler releases the tie-up and backs off, allowing Annie to get out of the corner unscathed. As soon as Onita moves forward, Grappler charges again, looking for another tie-up, but this time Annie knows better, and she ducks under Matthews’ arms and wraps her arms around his body from behind, executing a waistlock. Charlie keeps his ground, however, refusing to let the miniscule Onita have her way with him. Quite easily, he breaks Annie’s waistlock and turns around, executing a waistlock of his own on Ichiban. Fluidly, he hoists Onita up into the air and spins around, dropping the Hardcore Queen stomach-first onto the mat, where he maintains the waistlock. “Bad, bad idea by the lesbian,” scoffs Riley, “I mean, really, who tries to actually WRESTLE with someone who has the nickname of ‘Grappler’?” ”Indeed, Bobbo,” agrees Comet, “that probably wasn’t the best idea by Citizen Onita, but these are only the opening stages of the match. As you’ve told me countless times, this only sets the stage for the later portions of the contest.” From the waistlock, Matthews quickly releases and grabs Annie’s arm, places it behind her back, and wrenches in a hammerlock. After a short period of time, Grappler transitions over to the right side of Ann’s head, releasing the hammerlock and wrapping his arm around her head, squeezing tightly with a headlock. Charlie milks this hold for all he can, but already Ichiban begins reaching towards the ropes, which she is not far away from. Despite Matthews’ best efforts, Annie gets closer…closer… and the tips of her fingers touch the bottom rope, which is enough for Nick Soapdish to call for the break! Grappler obliges, getting off of Annie and allowing her to reach her feet. When Annie gets to her knees, however, she swings her leg around and connects with a low kick to Grappler’s knee! The force of the blow causes Matthews to stumble, and Annie swings her leg around again, this time connecting with a kick to Charlie’s other knee! The Champion staggers back against the ropes, trying to hold himself up. However, Annie keeps the pressure on, rising to her feet and meeting Grappler with stiff knife-edge chops to the chest! *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOOO!” *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOOO!” *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOOO!” “Correct me if I’m wrong,” begins Comet, “but I think Citizen Matthews underestimated Citizen Onita coming into this match! She certainly is surprising him with this flurry of offense, and this may lead to the Champion’s demise!” “You’re wrong, Comet,” shoots back Riley, “I mean, Grappler beat Annie in his first match back from injury in November, why should he worry about her now? If anything, she’s deteriorated.” With Grappler on the ropes, literally, Ichiban grabs him by the arm and attempts to whip him to the opposite ropes. However, with the weight advantage, Matthews is still able to turn around and reverse the whip, sending Annie to the ropes. What he doesn’t count on, though, is Annie rebounding and leaping into the air, connecting with a forearm smash to the Champion’s head that takes him down to the mat! The crowd EXPLODES as Grappler falls to the mat, and he scurries to a corner to recover. “ITCH – EE – BAHN!” “ITCH – EE – BAHN!” Annie and Allison both encourage the crowd’s chants, as Matthews easily rises out of the corner and approaches Annie again. Onita shoots a forearm at the head of the Champion, but Charlie catches it and BLASTS Ann with a forearm smash of his own. The blow rocks Onita, as he holds onto her arm and whips her towards the other side of the ring. As she rebounds, Matthews lunges for a clothesline, but Ann ducks! She runs towards the opposite ropes and comes back, before leaping up and shooting her legs out, catching Grappler right in the mouth with the Drop Kiss! The kick pushes Matthews against the corner, where he remains. Seeing this opportunity, Onita runs at Grappler and jumps up, pressing against his chest with her feet before vaulting backwards, completing a perfect back flip! The force causes Charlie to stagger out of the corner, and Annie is waiting for him, as she shuffles forward and shoots her leg out, nailing Matthews in the chin with a Super Kick! “You can’t say that Grappler has done his homework now, Bobbo,” proclaims Comet, “because Citizen Onita did the exact same combination of moves to Matthews during their last meeting in November! Obviously, he didn’t come into this prepared.” “Comet, you’re STILL wrong!” argues Riley, “…she used a buzz-saw kick instead of a super kick last time, I believe.” Riley sighs. As Grappler collapses to the mat, Annie quickly drops down and covers Matthews, as Soapdish makes the first count of the match! “ONE!” “TWO!” KICKOUT! Grappler shoots his shoulder off the canvas, but Onita pushes it right back down and covers him again, as Soapdish makes another count. “ONE!” “TWO!” SHOULDER UP AGAIN! Onita grabs Matthews by the head and starts to bring him up to his feet, but when he reaches his knees, Charlie sends a HARD elbow smash right into the challenger’s ribs! Annie doubles over from the strike, and Grappler rises to his feet and adds more damage by lifting his knee into her ribs. Matthews traps Ann in a front facelock from there, before grabbing her by the waist of her pants and lifting her upside down vertically in the air for a suplex…but Annie shifts her weight and drops onto her feet behind Charlie, wrapping her arms around him again in a waistlock! Matthews reaches forward and grabs onto the ropes, and he shoves Annie back, breaking the waistlock. Onita rolls backwards and gets to her feet again, charging at the Champion. As she approaches, Matthews ducks down and flips Onita over his head and over the top rope…but Annie lands on the apron of the ring! As Charlie notices this he runs towards the opposite ropes at Annie, but when he gets there she lowers her shoulder and drives it into his midsection. With Matthews doubled over, she flips over the ropes and grabs a hold of his legs, bringing him down onto his back in a sunset flip! Nick Soapdish rushes down to count the surprise pin as the Penn State fans get up out of their seats and count along! “ONE!” “TWO!” SHOULDER UP!! “This is unbelievable!” remarks Comet, “I mean, I thought Citizen Ann’s speed might be to her advantage, but never in a million years did I think that she would dominate this match like she has been!” “I’m very, very, VERY tempted to make an S&M joke after that comment,” smirks Riley, “but I’ll try to ignore it and call the match. I guess that shows just how much I’ve grown as a boy!” “We’re all proud of you, Bobbo.” As Charlie hurriedly gets up to a standing position, Ichiban goes with what got her the advantage in the first place, charging to the ropes and leaping into the air with a flying forearm smash…but this time, Matthews catches her out of mid-air! With his arms wrapped tightly around her midsection, Grappler turns on his heel and slams Ann down to the mat with a side belly to belly suplex! The crowd roars, but more at the ingenuity of the move than at Grappler performing it. Charlie is unchanged, however, as he immediately brings Onita back up to her feet. He stands side-by-side with her and reaches across her body, lifting her up horizontally before dropping to a knee and driving her back into it with a pendulum backbreaker. Instead of dropping her to the mat, though, Grappler presses his hands against her neck and legs, executing an agonizing backbreaker submission that looks like it could split Annie clean in half! “You know, Bobbo,” begins Comet, “if Grappler was trying to win these fans back, you’d think that he would, oh, I don’t know, stop using so many submission holds?” “Comet, you seem to forget, submission holds are a common aspect of wrestling,” replies Riley, “Of course, there’s a difference between The Old Grappler™ using them nonsensically and normal wrestling strategy, but you see my point. If he wants to weaken Annie for the finish, a submission hold would be a good place to start.” Hoping NOT to turn the fans even more against him, though, Matthews releases the hold and Annie slumps down to the mat. She crawls over to the nearest corner to recover, and Grappler moves to the opposite turnbuckle, waiting for her. As she gets up, Matthews musters up all the speed he can and charges forward, making a small jump in the air as he pumps his legs like a bicycle, shooting his left leg at Annie’s face…and she ducks! The momentum carries Charlie against the ropes, as his left leg goes over the top rope and he crotches himself! The crowd cheers at the sight of Grappler in an uncompromising position, and Ann tries to make the best of it. As soon as Matthews removes himself from the position, Onita moves into the same corner Charlie is in and quickly climbs up to the second rope, where she captures her adversary in a front facelock. From there, she spins around like a tornado, looking to drill Matthews into the mat with a DDT…but Charlie holds still and brings Annie down to her feet, before charging at the nearest turnbuckle and driving her into it back-first! Still holding on with an iron-tight grip, Matthews backs out of the corner and arches backward, flipping Annie up and over onto her back with a release northern lights suplex! “And, finally,” starts Comet, “it looks like Charlie Matthews is starting to hit his stride. Once the confidence is built, this man is seemingly unstoppable.” “Oh, the confidence has been built since he walked into the building,” replies Riley, “he just waited until the opportune time to throw down the power moves and suplexes. Matthews knows what he’s doing at every second in the match; even if he is an idiot for dumping Matheson.” “Bobbo, it wasn’t Matthews that dumped Math-“ “Yeah, yeah, that’s what they ALL say, Comet. Grappler sure can be a greedy bastard.” Hoping to wow the Penn State fans with a suplex duplex, Grappler brings Annie right back to her feet and stands behind her, ducking under her arm and hoisting her into the air for a backdrop suplex…but Annie flips back and lands on her feet behind Matthews! Ann turns around and charges at the ropes, hitting them and building up speed as she comes back at the champion. Grappler turns around just as Annie leaps up sideways at Charlie, looking for a cross body block, but again Grappler catches her, before charging forward and slamming Annie down with a MAORI DROP! The crowd roars as the move is hit and Matthews stays on top of Onita, as Nick Soapdish counts the pin! “ONE!” “TWO!” SHOULDER UP! Grappler rises back up to his feet, before shouting to the fans and the television audience and specifically some unnamed wrestlers in the back, “THIS MOVE SUCKS!” The crowd roars at the proclamation, but Annie is still feeling the pain on the mat. “What a move by Grappler!” commends Comet, “not only stopping Citizen Onita’s momentum cold, but also sending a message to our World Champion!” “Things like that should be illegal!” cries Riley, “I mean, after all, it *IS* theft! Poor Va’aiga, having his move desecrated by a cretin like Grappler using it! This is unjust! Unfair!” Matthews walks over to Annie’s legs and grabs a hold of them, trying to turn Onita over with a Boston Crab! Ichiban holds fast, though, not letting Grappler turn her over that easily. Both competitors continue to fight, until Charlie finally overpowers Ann and turns her over, sitting back and executing the Boston Crab! Onita cries out in pain, struggling and trying to do whatever she can to fight the hold. From ringside, Allison leads the crowd into a clapping and stomping frenzy, trying to fuel Annie’s momentum. “This submission could play a key role in the match,” notes Comet, “as Grappler knows he has to somehow stop these spurts of momentum Citizen Onita keeps getting. A Boston Crab is a great way to stop things like that.” “Good to see you enjoying it,” scoffs Riley, “Personally I liked it when he just went from rest hold to rest hold; it seemed to be a lot more effective.” Matthews continues to wrench in the hold, sitting back and cranking on Onita’s already hurt back. With five feet between herself and the ropes, Ann desperately reaches her arm out, shortening the gap to a little more than two feet, but still, no dice. The energy continues to be sucked out of the challenger, but despite Nick Soapdish’s questioning, she refuses to quit. Finally, she is able to summon up the power to inch forward, towards the ropes that seem so… far… away… She gets closer and closer, despite Grappler’s efforts, and is almost within reaching distance of the ropes…when Grappler stands up and pulls Annie away from the ropes, right into the middle of the ring! “Citizen Matthews is eerily reminiscent of a pit-bull dog!” Comet helpfully points out, “Both in the face and in his tenacity!” “Great analogy, Comet,” replies Riley, “but you basically got it right. Grappler’s going to keep Annie in the center of the ring until she taps, whether she and the fans like it or not.” As Grappler attempts to sit back in the Boston Crab again, however, he loses his grip on one of Annie’s legs, and he’s forced to reapply the move. He turns Onita onto her back and bends down, grabbing a tighter grip on her legs, but as he does, Ichiban reaches up…and pulls Matthews down into a small package pin! The crowd roars at the surprise, and Soapdish counts the pin! “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREENOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” Grappler barely rolls his shoulder off the canvas, just escaping defeat. Both competitors reach their feet at the same time, however, and Annie greets Matthews with two hard forearms to the head! With Charlie stumbling around the ring, Annie backs into the ropes and charges forward, flying through the air and this time, taking him down to the mat with a cross body block! Onita gets right off of Grappler and steps between the ropes, onto the apron. As Matthews rolls onto his stomach and gets on all fours, she springboards up onto the top rope and leaps off in a sitting position, dropping her leg right across the back of Charlie’s neck! The blow rattles Charlie, but he continues to get to his feet. Ann rushes to the nearest turnbuckle and climbs to the second rope, waiting for Matthews to get up. As he does, she leaps off, trapping him in a front facelock as she spins around, drilling Grappler’s head into the mat with a murderous DDT! The crowd explodes as Matthews flops onto his back, and Onita leaps on top of him to make the pin! “ONE!” “TWO!” GRAPPLER GETS HIS ARM ON THE ROPE! The crowd dies down as Matthews’ ring presence saves his title, but he doesn’t look too well. “Matthews gets the ropes!” cries Comet, “I wonder if he realizes how close he came to losing his title!” “I’m sure it doesn’t matter to him,” replies Riley, “after all, when you’re champion, you just look at the big picture.” As Matthews slowly pulls himself to his feet, Annie runs to the ropes again, building momentum as she approaches the ICTV Champion. However, in a last ditch effort, Grappler bends down and is able to pick Annie up on his shoulders, and in one fluid motion he flips her over, right onto the back of her neck with the Judgment Slam! The crowd erupts at the sight of the move, and Grappler simply falls on top of Ann as Nick Soapdish counts the pin. “ONE!” “TWO!” SHOULDER UP! “Citizen Matthews just can’t let that happen!” notes Comet, “we’ve seen many times already that he can easily give up an advantage, and that’s never good!” “The man’s a fool, Comet,” explains Riley, “see, he’s too worried about the fans. They’re uneasy around him, and understandably so, and that’s messing him up. If he just didn’t try so hard to please these fans, he might be more fluid in his ways.” Trying to keep the advantage in his grasp, Charlie picks Annie off the mat and places her in a standing headscissors, before reaching down and flipping her up onto his shoulders for the POWERBOMB…but Onita struggles, struggles, and wriggles out of Grappler’s hold, landing on her feet behind him! As Matthews turns around, Annie spins her leg around and nails Matthews in the back of the head with a LOUD enzuiguri! *SMACK!* The force of the kick causes Grappler to drop to his knees, and as he does, Ann runs to the ropes and builds speed as she prepares for lift off with a Shining Wizard – and Matthews rolls out of the way! Onita hits the mat as Charlie avoids any danger, easily getting back up to his feet. As Ann does the same, Matthews meets her with a kick to the midsection, before placing her in another standing headscissors. This time he is able to flip her up…and SLAM HER DOWN TO THE MAT WITH THE POWERBOMB!!! The crowd sits in stunned silence as Matthews falls on top of Ann, and Soapdish counts the pin! “ONE!” ”TWO!” “THREEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!” NO! ANN GETS HER SHOULDER UP AT THE VERY LAST TENTH OF A SECOND! The crowd EXPLODES, “ANN – E!” chants resounding through the Bryce Jordan Center. “JOVIAL JESSIFER JUMPING JESUS!” alliterates Comet, “Matthews’ time-tested finishing maneuver, the Powerbomb, couldn’t even keep Citizen Onita down for the three count. WHAT WILL IT TAKE, BOBBO? What in the name of Middle Earth will it take?!” “Icy hot and a stick of gum,” muses Riley, “I’ve heard that’s worked well on many an occasion.” “Bobbo, you’re no-selling the drama of the moment. Can’t you just eat it up with a spoon?!” In absolute shock, Grappler brings Onita right back to her feet and looks to place her in another standing headscissors, but this time Annie expects it, and with the small amount of energy and adrenaline she has left, she sends two swift headbutts into Matthews’ midsection! The blows catch Grappler off guard, and Annie follows it up with two kicks to the same area. With Grappler suitably stunned, Onita places HIM in a standing headscissors, and the crowd, simply put, explodes! As Annie places both of the Champion’s arms in a double underhook, a familiar phrase comes out of some twenty-thousand mouths in the arena… “GOOOOOOOOOOD MORNING!” Annie prepares to drive Matthews’ face into the mat, leaping up, but Matthews stays still! Refusing to go down to the Daybreak, Grappler grabs Annie by the legs and charges forward, driving the Hardcore Queen right into the turnbuckle, right into her already worked-over back! “Holy bovine, Bobbo, Grappler just escaped the Daybreak Pedigree!” proclaims Comet, “and it is unbelievably amazing in its sheer simplicity and beauty!” “Hey, Comet, you were talking earlier about how Grappler hasn’t been studying the lesbian?” questions Riley, “well, I’d just like to remind you that the counter you just saw was the SAME EXACT ONE Matthews used against Annie in that same fateful match back in November! How’s that for not studying?!” “Touché, Bobbo, touché,” is all Comet can reply. Grappler backs up…and charges forward again, driving her into the turnbuckle a second time! Matthews backs up…and runs Ann into the turnbuckle a third and final time! As Onita practically goes limp, Matthews pulls her out of the turnbuckle and captures her in a front facelock! Quickly, the champion grabs Ann by the waist of her pants and hoists her into the air, holding her upside down for five full seconds before snapping around and falling on top of Ichiban with a powerslam to complete the infamous Jackhammer suplex! “That’s…that’s the Wake Up Call!” Comet sputters, “named so by Citizen Matthews since it wakes up the crowd after such a boring match. You know, Bobbo, it’s odd, because this may be the least-boring Charlie Matthews match I’ve ever witnessed!” “I’m glad you’re admitting it, Comet, because it’s over! Annie looks like ground beef at the Doublemeat Palace, ready to cook.” “I’m not counting her out yet, Bobbo, we’ve already seen her kick out of Matthews’ powerbomb! Who KNOWS what kind of crazy feminine immunity she’s been building up since she left?” “I’m not coming NEAR that one,” replies Riley. A good portion of the crowd actually cheers as Matthews connects with the move, completely exhausted from the punishment he’s taken. After what seems like an eternity, he collapses on top of Annie again, and Soapdish counts the pin! In a last ditch effort to keep Annie alive, the Bryce Jordan Center resounds with more chants! “ANN – E!” “ITCH – EE – BAHN!” “ONE!!!!!!” “ANN – E!” “ITCH – EE – BAHN!” “TWOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!” “ANN – E!” “ITCH – EE – BAHN!” THREEEEEEE!!!!!!!!” …but the dream dies. *DING DING DING* Metallica’s “Some Kind of Monster” blasts through the speakers again, and the cheers are quite noticeable as Matthews rolls off of Annie and Nick Soapdish goes to retrieve the belt. Finally, Grappler uses the ropes to pull himself up to his feet and Nick Soapdish hands him the belt as Funyon makes the official announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this contest, and STILL S – W – F INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPION, CHAAAAAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MAAAAAAAAAAAATTHEWSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!” “What a HUGE win for Charlie Matthews!” proclaims Comet, “he has defeated the woman who defeated the SWF World Champion on Lockdown! If Va’aiga wasn’t worried before, he DAMN sure better be worried now! Boo-yah to you, you big ugly goof!” “Your words are strong and fearsome, Comet,” Riley notes, sarcastically, “and the Unnamed must be just QUIVERING with fear now. Grappler beat a WOMAN. Big deal.” “Bobbo, that woman beat the Unnamed’s leader, as I already mentioned. And now that Grappler beat her…why, we may have a new Champion come From the Fire!” “…if we don’t already have a new champion coming up next,” moans Riley, “Comet, I think it’s time to put the windshield up, because there’s going to be blood EVERYWHERE.” “Right you are, Bobbo, and we’d better put on masks…….well, looks like I’ve got that covered. Folks, coming up next, Va’aiga puts the Title on the line against Dace Night. It’s about revenge. It’s about pride. It’s about time bombs and barbed wire and lost limbs. It’s the main event, and it’s up next!” Meanwhile, in the ring, Charlie Matthews acknowledges the cheering fans…and extends his hand out to the still-grounded Annie Onita. In a surprising act of trust, Annie takes Matthews’ hand, and he brings her up to her feet. The two nod at each other and the fans roar at the sight as the picture fades to a commercial. “ANN – E!” “GRA – PULL – ER!” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted February 17, 2004 The camera returns to the image of the sold out Bryce Jordan Center from Penn State. The giant barbed wire and c4 covered cell hangs above the ring as the main event approaches. Comet: Well Citizens, we’ve had a fantastic show, with three title matches already. But now, we come to the main event. And I think I speak for all of when I say, I’m scared about this one. Riley: Why is Grand Slam even let this one go ahead? Why would anyone want to take part in a match like this? Yer Dace has this stupid notion of revenge for Danny Williams… but this is crazy! Comet: I can safely safe Robert this is one match I would never want to be part of. Ever. A nervous looking Funyon glances up at the steel cell above his head before taking a deep breath and beginning the introductions for the match. Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest will be a… Barbed Wire Cell Timebomb Deathmatch for the SWF World Heavyweight Championship. It will be for one fall, with no holds barred and if the match does not end before ten minutes, the c four covering the cell will detonate! The once frantic crowd falls silent as the take in the true level of violence that will be seen in the match. Funyon: Introducing firstly, from Birmingham England, weighing in at two hundred and fifty two pounds… he is the leader of the Unholy Trinity… The High Priest of Horrorcore… he is DACE… FUCKING! Funyon: NIGHT! RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! Hero rips into life as the entrance ramp lights up with a wave of pyro explosions. Marching down the ramp. Almost ignoring the fans, Dace climbs into the ring, his face set with anger and hatred. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Horrorcore stares down the ramp to the entranceway, looking like a man possessed. Funyon: And his opponent, from Rotorua, Aotearoa, weighing in at three hundred and nine pounds… he is the leader of The Unnamed… The Maori Badass… the is the SWF World Heavyweight Champion… VA’AIGA! BBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOO! WHAT’S MY NAME! What’s My Name kicks into the life, the bass echoing through the arena as Va’aiga strides down the ramp, his face set in a mix of hatred and desire for destruction. The expression isn’t helped by the cheek protector that still covers his face. Not even yelling at the fans, The Predator climbs into the ring and starts to stare Dace down. Funyon bails out as an extremely pale Soapdish climbs into the ring. The front row buckles and the crowd spills apart as John Duran, Todd Royal and Landon Maddix spill down from the crowds and leap over the barrier, past security into the ring. Comet: It’s the rest of The Unnamed! What the hell are they doing there? BBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Riley: Stopping this stupid match from going on it seems Comet! Dace spins around to face the other three members of The Unnamed as Va’aiga slams into him from behind, tackling the Unholy Trinity leader into the mat as a four on one beatdown starts. BBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Comet: It’s a four on one beatdown on Dace Night! Was this whole thing just a set up? Duran drags Dace up to his feet and launches him across the ring, into a path of a of a BIG, EVIL, SO MUCH FOR ANY CHANCE OF REVENGE, YOU’RE JUST ANOTHER SKULL LLLLLLAAAAAAAARRRRRRIIIIIAAAAAAAATTTTTT! Riley: Dace just got Lariated into next week like he deserved! He wanted revenge and that was his shot at it! Grabbing a house mic handed to him by Royal, Va’aiga snarls to the cword… Va’aiga: You REALLY think I’m that bloody stupid to go through with this? FUCK YOU ALL! FUCK YOU ALL! FUCK YOU ALL! Pulling an almost unconscious Dace Night back to his feet, Va’aiga stares him in the eyes before leaning back and completely obliterating him with a second Lariat. Va’aiga: Let this be a lesson to everyone single one of you out there. Line up as fast as you like, you’re all going down. BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Comet: My god, this whole thing was a complete setup from the start! I should have known it! Riley: Well, I think everyone that needed to know, did know Comet. It’s just further proof of The Unnamed’s brilliant tactics to keep people like Dace Night in their place. As all four members of The Unnamed poses over Dace’s body, the image fades out. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
the.weej 0 Report post Posted February 17, 2004 Results! Blah blah lazy blah read it yourself blah blah. I will say that I'm... surprised by the main event, to say the least. I get the feeling that wasn't how it was supposed to go in the beginning, but something must have happened. Card up eventually. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
