Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 26, 2004 As SWF Lockdown begins, there is nothing. No explosions. No music. No pyrotechnics. Nothing. All that can be seen is a black screen, that slowly fades up to show an SWF production truck. Alan Clark sits outside, his head down. Behind him, the door to the truck opens and a man pops his head out. Man: Yo, what you want? Alan pops up and turns around. Alan: Hey, nothing much really. Could you play this tape? Alan pulls a tape out and hands it to the man. Man: Sure, when you want it played? Alan: Right now, if you can. Man: Okay. Alan turns and walks away, a slight smile on his face as the screen fades to black. ----- CUE: “Wanted Dead or Alive” by Bon Jovi The video begins, and the music begins as well. It's all the same, only the names will change Everyday it seems we're wasting away The video shows black and white video of Bloodshed, Apostle, and Alan Clark in various matches, bleeding, sweating, crying. Their images fade to black. Another place where the faces are so cold I'd drive all night just to get back home To the road, Alan sits in his tour bus as it rides down the highways of America from stop to stop, slowly images of Alan lashing out at Landon Maddix, at Mark Stevens, and his various run-ins with Thugg are superimposed over the comfortable Clark in his bus. Soon, they fade over the chorus. I'm wanted dead or alive Wanted dead or alive Shots of Alan Clark walking backstage are shown, his guitar on his back. I walk these streets, a loaded six string on my back I play for keeps, 'cause I might not make it back The video turns to the various images of Alan holding Junior League championships high in the air… I been everywhere, still I'm standing tall The last image is of Alan holding the JL World Title over his head, a few tears on his face, mixed with blood. I've seen a million faces and I've rocked them all As Alan stands in the ring up on the corner and looking out over a cheering, explosive crowd…the images all fade to black…then a rain-soaked highway, two headlights burning in the distance. I'm wanted dead or alive I'm a cowboy, I got the night on my side I'm wanted dead or alive Wanted dead or alive The music slowly fades, and the video goes to darkness. ------ In the arena, everything is still shrouded in darkness. The lights slowly come up, and reveal Alan Clark standing in the center of the ring, a microphone in hand. His head is down, his hair has grown enough to begin to fall over his face. The smile is gone from Alan’s face as he looks up to the crowd, some of who have begun cheering. Alan just stares, cold. Alan: Stop. Stop cheering, please. The crowd seems confused, and slowly the cheers disappear. Alan pauses for a moment and continues. Alan: Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. As some of you may have noticed – in the last few weeks I have done nothing to receive any of these cheers. I came into Cluster(bleep) with high hopes and dreams, and they were shattered in an instant. I faced loses at the hands of both members of Wild and Dangerous. It seems the only thing I have done has interjected myself in places that I should not. Thugg attacks Landon – a man I have come to almost loathe for his turncoat ways. A man that took away my chances at leaving the SJL a victorious man. He destroyed those dreams. Thugg attacks Spike Jenkins – a man that I too have had the pleasure in making tap out and defeat, and leave lying in the middle of the ring. But then Thugg makes his way to me…and I could not take it anymore. I was raised to care about the lives of others. No matter how much I hate Landon Maddix or Todd Royal…no matter how many times I defeat any wrestler – I know that they have lives just like me, and they do not want to see them destroyed in this ring. But Thugg, he was different. He cares only about himself, and trying to make himself look like a tough guy by throwing around three men that are half his size. Landon, Spike, they mean nothing to me compared to how much it means to see Thugg finally get exactly what is coming to him. Mark…Commissioner Stevens…you give me a chance at From The Fire to exact a little bit of revenge for all the pain I have suffered these last few weeks. I know out there somewhere that Thugg is watching…and this is directed right at him… Alan’s eyes focus on the camera right in front of him. Alan: Don’t think for one second that the pain and the anguish I have been feeling inside these last few weeks is all because of you, oh no. This pain, this anguish, this fire that burns within me is all about what’s right in here… Alan points to his head. Some of these fans can remember that a few months ago, I took on Todd Royal for the JL World Championship in a Falls Count Anywhere match. In the end, I dove off a production truck and left a Todd-sized dent in the roof of a limousine. I told the whole world that it didn’t matter what had to happen, and what extremes I had to go to…I would get the job done. And that is exactly what I did that night in Anchorage, Alaska. I took myself to the limit and won that gold and I sat in that ring and cried. I knew I had finally accomplished something that I could be proud about… Alan falls to his knees, his body hunched over. But I wasn’t proud for long. NO I WASN’T! In the next month, I would lose both the European and World Championships to the same man, Landon Maddix, and I couldn’t even fathom…in my own mind…what was going on. I choked. I (bleep)ing choked! DO YOU HEAR ME OUT THERE? ALAN CLARK CHOKED! Alan points out to the crowd from his knees, his arm slowly moving back and forth. Did you feel the pain coursing through my body…and my mind…when Landon Maddix defeated me? No! Nobody did! And what did I do then…what did I do…I hugged him. I (bleep)ing hugged him! I wanted to show my respect to everyone watching…but I had no reason to be respectful. It was the end of one era…and I went out a loser…then I stepped head on into the beginning of another…and I came in a loser! The last thing I needed was that big mother(bleep)er attacking me backstage and calling me a (bleep)ing bitch! Alan stays on his knees, clenching his fists with rage. So look now! LOOK NOW! Look what I have in MY future…Alan Clark taking on H…V…T…Thugg…one on one in a STREET FIGHT! No matter what…at the end of that match, Thugg will be gone for good. FOREVER! That is for certain…a constant. But in with that constant, I am the variable. It’s all up to me, now, as to whether Thugg leaves From The Fire and the SWF as a winner…or as a loser. Alan stands back up to his feet and paces around the ring slowly. It’s up to me! It’s all on my shoulders…on my back…on my mind! All on Alan Clark…I have to bring my ‘A’ game and try my hardest to end the career of Thugg as nothing more than another down note in his life. And you know what…I’m not coming to From The Fire alone… oh no… Alan Clark’s demeanor changes rapidly a he moves faster and faster around the ring. You people all think I’m crazy! But I’m NOT! I am anything BUT crazy…in fact…I may just be the SMARTEST MAN ALIVE right now! Alan begins laughing almost maniacally as he falls onto his knees and looks into the camera. Come on Thugg…you want to come and get me? I’ll be at From The Fire…but you won’t just have to deal with ME… NO! NO THUGG! I WON’T BE ALONE! …Bloodshed is coming, Thugg…oh yes he is…the man that almost ended the life of Craig McLennan by tossing him down a flight of stairs... The Apostle…he’s sure to show up too! The man that made Silent tap out! The man that drove Jamie Drazon’s head into the center of this ring and knocked him out cold! The man that defeated Crow, arguably one of the greatest SJL World Champions EVER! The same man, Thugg…the same man that defied all the odds put against him to almost make it to the finals of the Genesis Four Tournament… They are coming, Thugg… they stand beside me and they fight with me. You want to know what it’s like to stand across the ring from the three of us… go ask Todd Royal! Ask him how his back felt as he got slammed into that limousine…or how it felt to have pure blood sprayed into his eyes! Ask him how much it pained him when he regained consciousness backstage and saw Alan Clark in the ring holding his World Heavyweight Championship! NO THUGG…I’m not crazy…I’m not insane…I know the truth… I know EXACTLY how I am! But the question that I place before you…and before everyone else watching at home…is do YOU know exactly who I am? Do YOU know exactly what you are getting into, Thugg, when in a less than two weeks you are standing across the ring from not just Alan Clark…but all who have come before him? Do you think for one (bleep)ing second that I’m not going to seize this opportunity and leave you lying in a pool of your own blood…or a pool of mine? Do you have any IDEA exactly how much torture the human body can go through before it just SHUTS DOWN? …Guess what, CUZ… at From the Fire… YOU WILL KNOW THE ANSWER! YOU WILL KNOW THE TRUTH! YOU WILL BE ROCKED! …and the only thing that you or anyone else can do about it…. …is to simply WAIT… …AND… …(bleep)ING… …BLEED~! Alan drops the microphone as he gets to his feet, the crowd in stunned silence around him. As he crawls out of the ring and heads toward the curtain…an image slowly fades up onto the SmarkTron… ----- Silence… Dead silence… And then… “OH MY GOD!!! SOMEONE JUST SPEARED ALAN CLARK RIGHT OUT OF HIS BOOTS!!” Comet’s voice is heard as HVT spears Clark right into a wall, leaving him laid out in the hallway. The still black and white images of the attack fade in and out over the screen, stopping on the small index card… “Welcome to the SWF, You Are Officially My Bitch” More still images, taken in the ring, where Thugg was brutally fired by Commissioner Stevens… “you are no longer an employee of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation…YOU ARE FIRED!!” Steven’s voice fades away, replaced by a sold-out arena… “Na, na, na, na.” “Na, na, na, na.” “Hey, hey, hey.” “Goodbye!” Thugg leaves the ring, surrounded by security, his eyes burning with anger…the crowd’s explosive chanting dies away… …More images appear, taken later that evening, as HVT finds his car destroyed at the hands of Alan Clark. Thugg’s voice can be heard over the images… WHAT THE (BLEEP)!?! The images fade away over the same card left earlier in the hallway, and Thugg walks away from his car, pissed. One final voice is heard as the images fade… “I…want…Thugg…NOW!” Alan’s voice is heard screaming out…then more images appear…showcasing the interactions from Thugg and Alan Clark since that Lockdown two weeks earlier. Mixed with the images of Thugg and Alan, are also shots from Clark’s recent losses at the hands of both Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous. The distraught look is in his eyes as he tastes defeat twice in a little over a week’s time. A deep ominous voice is heard… “One man… HVT…Thugg…a man with no concern for the lives of his fellow man. A man disgraced and humiliated…fired… And another…Alan Clark…a man that some say doesn’t have what it takes to succeed in the big leagues. A man that has his shot to show the world exactly the kind of person he is. One man…a fighter…a veteran...a human wrecking ball. The other…a smartass…a psycho…a walking time bomb. These two shall meet in volatile circumstances. It is for sure one man’s final match…his last chance to show himself as better than anyone else. For the other man, it could very well be the beginning of something special. Thugg… Clark… A Street Fight. For Pride. For Revenge. For Victory. FROM THE FIRE 2004 ----- …The SmarkTron fades to various shots of Thugg and Alan Clark from the past two weeks, ending on a shot of Alan Clark standing off in the distance as Thugg finds his destroyed car. As Lockdown heads to it’s first commercial break. The image of Thugg and his car fades away, leaving a still shot of Alan on the SmarkTron…slowly the images of Bloodshed and The Apostle appear next to Alan Clark. They stand side by side…then slowly they move back together into one solid image of Alan Clark… …and the thunder rolls. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 26, 2004 Redmond v. IL 2x no-show Thanks for the effort guys. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 26, 2004 (edited) SWF Lockdown is back on the air in three. Two. One. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaH!" SWF Lockdown bursts back onto the air with the sound of generic rock music and screaming fans! The cameras spin around, catching the sight of the arena filled from ringside to rafters. Signs are in full effect as is the norm with an SWF event. From the basics of "Hi Mom!" and "I'm With Stupid", to "Black Angel Rules!" and "Notorious(ly) Better Than Others!", the superstar-related signs are waved about madly, as the cameras begin their slow pan down towards the announce table. Waiting with a look of utmost patience on his face is Cyclone Comet, and Bobby Riley leans on one hand and looks as bored as bored can be. At least, until Comet bursts to his feet when he spots the camera! "Welcome back to SWF Lockdown, citizens and fans! I'm CYCLOOOOOOOOOONE COMET here with Bobby Riley, and we have one spectacular match coming up for you momentarily!" "Spectacular? Comet, it's going to be ugly as anything! No way is John Duran getting in the ring with a psychopath like Janus!" "That's Terrence, Robert. And our beloved Commissioner signed this matchup tonight, and there's not much that Citizen Duran can do to stop it!" "Just wait till 'Grand Slam' gets another visit from Matheson, Comet. You'll see what a good lawyer can do these days." Before Comet can think up an appropriate response, Funyon lifts his microphone and takes his position in the middle of the ring. "The following contest is scheduled for ONE fall and will be contested under standard rules! Introducing first..." NO! NO! NOTORIOUS! As the sound of Duran Duran's "Notorious" fades into the sound of Spineshank's "Synthetic", the crowd lets the stage curtain have it with a resounding series of boos. And the boos redouble when the curtain is swept aside to reveal the Notorious One himself! However, as he begins his walk down the ramp, Duran is followed. Followed by Landon Maddix, Todd Royal, and Megan Skye. Followed by James Matheson and the Maori Badass Va'aiga. In summation... followed by the Unnamed. Funyon lifts his eyebrows at this but continues his announcements as normal. "Hailing from Champaign Illinois! He weighs two hundred and sixty eight pounds and stands at six-foot-eight. Accompanied...by the Unnamed! He is the NOOOOOOTORIOUS ONE, JOOOOOOOOOHN DURRRRRRRRAAAAAN!" The crowd continues to rain boos down on the approaching stable as John pauses on the ramp, turning to confer with his stablemates. After a brief discussion, everyone nods and exchanges smirks. As the Unnamed space themselves out on the ramp in a defensive line with the Maori Badass at the center, the Notorious One slides into the ring and grabs the microphone from Funyon. A swift boot to the arse sends the announcer scurrying from the ring, as Comet looks on in perplexed shock and Riley looks just confused. "Now why on earth would Duran bring out everyone in the Unnamed, Comet?" "Something is rotten in the state of Denmark, Robert. Citizen Duran obviously has a notorious idea in mind..." "Okay, everyone, now SHUT UP!" the Notorious One roars, as his music fades out. The noise of the crowd doesn't however, and that just makes Duran scowl even more. "Terrence, Janus, whoever you are tonight, I know you pulled some strings with Mark, I know your doctor convinced Mark that you'd be fit to wrestle in this ring. But do you people honestly think I'm going to take on a complete lunatic!? Hell no! Bad enough I'm roped into facing him at From The Fire, like hell I'm going to fight him now! I don't care what he calls himself, but if that seven foot Australian asshole wants to face me in the ring, he has to go through MY stablemates! So come on, Terrence, you pansy, come and get me!" Duran throws down the mic and gets into a ready stance along with his stable as the crowd is hushed, turning toward the curtain and eagerly awaiting the reply of the Notorious One's opponent. But nothing happens. "Citizen Duran clearly does not want this match tonight! What a coward, hiding behind his stablemates..." "No, it's GENIUS! Terrence is the coward, Comet! He doesn't have the guts to fight an entire stable just to get one man!" "I think you sorely underestimate Citizen Bailey's..." And the lights go out. And the low, sonorous buzzing of an alarm tears from the speakers, as the bright red words [sTATUS: RELEASED] blaze across the Smarktron! It's followed by the sound of Killswitch Engage's "When Darkness Falls" as the crowd rises to their feet to cheer! As the spotlight lands on the curtain, black and white pyrotechnics explode from the rampway! When darkness falls (When darkness falls) We are reborn A dream since the fall of man We are reborn... A white trenchcoat falls to the ground amid the flying pyrotechnics, and stalking through the sparks comes the Anti-Heel Machine. His eyes are on the ring where the Notorious One stands with a smug smile, and then his eyes drop to the people blocking him. The seven foot Australian tosses his hair out of his face and doesn't break stride as the Unnamed wait for him - and are instantly down one member as Landon Maddix eats a Knuckle Bomb! The other Unnamed break instantly, flooding the seven footer. With Va'aiga at their center slamming huge punches into Terrence's face, more punches and kicks rain into the Anti-Heel Machine from all sides. "This is just sheer madness, Robert! How can one man stand against such an assault?" "He can't, Comet, and that's the glorious thing!" The Anti-Heel Machine takes a huge right hook from the Maori Badass that drops him to his knees, and the Unnamed close in to finish the job. However, with a roar that would make any madman proud, Terrence stages a comeback! Surging to his feet, his left hand grabs Megan Skye by the face and shoves her into the guardrail, while his left wraps around Todd Royal's throat and hoists His Toddness up....and back down with a chokeslam! Va'aiga backs away towards the ring, and Terrence looks to follow when something slams into his back. Turning around, the seven footer glowers at the quivering, briefcase-clutching form of James Matheson... ...before Va'aiga sends his arm crashing into the back of the giant's head with a HA HA HA WE OWN YOUR SORRY ASS, NO MAN CAN STAND AGAINST US, NEVER TURN YOUR BACK ON THE MAORI BADASS YOU MIGHT END UP IN A BODYBAG LAAARRRRRRRRRIAAAAAAATOOOOOOOOO! Terrence collapses to the ground, and as Matheson and the reviving Landon Maddix check on the other Unnamed members and help them up, Va'aiga drags the Anti-Heel Machine to the ring by his hair. He rolls the big man under the bottom rope, and Duran smiles and gives him a thumbs up. Va'aiga simply smirks before turning to 'assist' Matheson and Maddix in taking the Unnamed backstage. "What a brutal assault! What on earth could Citizen Duran have planend that for..." *DING DING DING!* "That's what, Comet! The match is still on and Terrence has just been KILLED!" Riley cackles. "Oh, come on now referee, surely you can't expect the match to go on now!" Comet pleads. Duran chuckles and shakes his head in obvious amusement, dragging the Anti-Heel Machine away from the ropes. He then drapes himself over the giant back-first, lazily hooking a leg and putting his other arm under his head as if taking a nap. The crowd rains the boos down on the ring as the referee counts. ONE! ... .... ..... TWO!! ... .... ..... THREEEEEEE!! Duran rises to his feet with a smirk on his face, lifting his arms in the air. The crowd boos and starts throwing things at the ring, as the Notorious One leans on the ropes and waves mockingly to the fans. The referee bends to check on the Anti-Heel Machine as Duran pats his chest and lifts his arms again, trying to encourage cheers but still grinning even though he's been booed. When the boos start to turn to cheers, the Notorious One nods his head as if encouraging the fans, the smirk a mile wide across his face. At least, until a large gloved hand falls on his shoulder. "TWO! ONLY TWO!" the referee yells at the timekeeper. The smirk drops from Duran's face as he turns around and lifts his head to look up into the eyes of the Anti-Heel Machine. And then he finally hears the referee calling it a two count...before Terrence slams his skull into the Notorious One's with a headbutt! Stunned, Duran cannot resist being irish whipped across the ring, and the seven foot Australian lifts him up for a powerslam, then swings him around and slams him across the back of his knee in a backbreaker! "And Citizen Duran finds that his plans will Crash and Burn tonight Robert, as Citizen Bailey is still in this match!" "No! It's not fair! Duran had it all figured out! Terrence should have stayed down!" Comet hesitates only a moment before replying. "Maybe -Terrence- did, Robert." The seven footer doesn't stop his assault, dragging the Notorious One off the mat by his hair and yanking him up into a canadian backbreaker! Wrapping his arms around Duran's ribs, the Anti-Heel Machine - or is it the Hell Machine? - squeezes once, twice...and drops firmly to his knees! The Notorious One cries out in pain as his back is wrenched, and when he's dropped to the mat, he rolls right under the ropes and falls to the floor, clutching his spine. "And Citizen...Bailey... follows his attack up with the Spinal Division, clearly intent on working Citizen Duran's back! And speaking of Citizen Duran, Robert, he's just run away to the outside of the ring!" "Run away? Hah! That is a strategic retreat, Comet." Duran begins to walk around the ring, obviously needing a breather after receiving a beating from his opponent. However, Terrence will give no rest to the wicked. He climbs through the ropes and drops down onto the floor behind Duran, giving chase as Duran starts to move towards the base of the entrance ramp! "ONE!" Meanwhile, Anthony Michael Hall has begun his 10 count! "Where in the heck is Citizen Duran going, Robert?" "He's leaving this match, and I don't blame him! Why should he have to wrestle this monster when he'll have to do the same thing in mere days?" The Anti-Heel Machine takes long strides and catches up with the Notorious One, catching him from behind with a clothesline that sends Duran face first into the foot of the steel ramp with a loud *CLUNK*! "TWO!" The crowd cheers on Bailey as he puts the boots to John, stomping away at his opponent's back as Duran struggles to get back to his feet. "THREE!" Terrence helps him with that dilemma... but it's only so he can hit the Unnamed member with a huge Knuckle Bomb! Duran, as should be expected after such a heavy blow, hits the ramp again. "What a beating Citizen Bailey is delivering here to Citizen Duran, Robert. He might want to bring the match back into the ring, though!" "Never. The closer that Duran is to escaping the grasp of this beast, the more he'll fight for such freedoms, Comet." Comet pauses for a moment. "Very eloquently put, Robert." "Thanks." Duran rolls over onto his stomach but he doesn't fare well as Terrence simply starts working away at Duran's spine again. The stomps connect with gusto, and Duran realizes the error of his ways too late as he is brought up to his feet once again by his jet black hair. "FOUR!" However, Terrence quickly gives Duran a boot to the stomach and puts him in a standing headscissors, the wild cheers from the crowd turning into roars as they figure a big move is imminent! "This cannot be good, Comet." "It will right the wrongs that Citizen Duran has committed on us all!" "FIVE!" However, before Bailey even has a chance to lift the Notorious One up, Duran drops to his knees and lifts his arm in desperation, scoring a painful blow between the legs of Terrence! The roars are suddenly silenced by this extremely notorious move, and are quickly reversed into roaring boos for Duran! The Unnamed member ignores the fans however, grabbing the back of Terrence's head and then bringing up his right knee, crashing it into the skull of the Anti-Heel Machine! The seven footer's head snaps back at the impact of the knee and he collapses to the ground with a loud *THUD*. "SIX!" "This is awful; the referee has to get both men back into the ring, right now!" Terrence receives some more stomps from the big boot of Duran, as the Notorious One figures it's time for a little payback. A few more stomps follow, and then John thinks that's enough... and signals for the Blunt Force Trauma! "SEVEN!" "Oh yes, this will be good, Comet. No two count this time, I assure you." "He needs to get in the ring or there won't be any counting at all!" Duran begins to bring the Anti-Heel Machine up by his black-and-white hair, having seemed to quell the beast for now. However, when the Notorious One tries to go behind Terrence to set up the big finish, the seven footer turns around and slams a knee straight into his opponent's groin! John stumbles back and clutches his groin, gasping like a fish - so the Anti-Heel Machine just levels him with a stiff Knuckle Bomb! "EIGHT!" "Come on, Citizen Bailey, get him back in the ring, before it's too late!" "No! This match has to stop now, Comet! It's not fair to Duran!" However, Terrence does not relent, and it seems as if the Hell Machine has flared up again! The fans are madly rooting the Anti-Heel Machine on as he pounds away at the skull of Duran, repeatedly lifting the Notorious One's head with his left hand only to nail it with a Knuckle Bomb moments later! Duran has trouble backing away from Bailey, looking woozy but still trying to escape from the former Hardcore champion. "NINE!" Duran tries to hit a right hand in retaliation, but it's one without much force behind it and Terrence makes him pay with yet another Knuckle Bomb, the crowd's roars seeming to get louder and louder, though most are pleading with the Anti-Heel Machine to bring the Notorious One back to the ring to finish off this beatdown. "The match can't end this way, the referee has to restore some order to this match, Robert!" Referee Anthony Michael Hall leans through the ropes and tries to yell at the two combatants to bring it back to the ring, not wanting to count them out. However, there's no stopping the Anti-Heel Machine's beating of Duran. The Notorious One stumbles backwards through the curtain and Terrence follows, in hot pursuit as both men disappear behind the black curtain! Reluctantly, Referee Hall has no choice but to continue the count. "TEN!" Finally, he turns and calls for the bell as the crowd begins to ring the bell. *DING DING DING!* A chant of "BULL-SHIT!" immediately strikes up as Funyon puts the microphone to his lips. "Because Terrence Bailey and John Duran did not return to the ring in the allotted ten count, referee Anthony Michael Hall has declared this match a draw via double countout!" The official announcement gets the crowd even more riled up as the chant grows louder. "BULL-SHIT!" "BULL-SHIT!" "BULL-SHIT!" "Well, I wouldn't use those exact words, Robert, but I must say that I sympathize with the fans in this arena on this one!" "Terrence was a fool for asking for this match, Comet. It just proves that he's mentally unstable. He can't even return to the ring for a simple ten count! Someone get that doctor of his!" "This is truly a disappointment, Robert. Hopefully their match at From The Fire will be of a much better caliber than this one." "Hopefully Bailey will be in a straitjacket before that ever happens, Comet." "I severely doubt that." "At any rate, it's time to move on with the show!" Riley adds the last word and then changes his setting from 'ANALYSIS' to 'HYPE'. "Well, folks, we've still got a big show left ahead of us, including that selfish Charlie Matthews against the country bumpkin Coy West as our main event!" "And we promise that there will actually be a finish in that match," Comet says assuredly. On Comet's note, the scene fades out to commercials. Edited February 26, 2004 by realitycheck Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 26, 2004 “We are back, live in NEW ORLEANS!” Cyclone Comet screams these words as the lights come up again in the New Orleans Arena, crammed to the rafters with screaming and possibly rabid SWF fans desperate to get their half-second of immortality as the cameras sweep the crowd. Picking their targets carefully the crew isolate homemade signs varying from the simple “(Y)”, to the egotistical “I’m Wild and Dangerous” and finishing off with “I came to see the BEATDOWN~!”. As one very drunk fan apparently tries to eat the camera the picture cuts to Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley, one visibly excited and the other quite definitely bored. “We have already seen some amazing action here on Lockdown, dear audience,” the superhero continues, surreptitiously nudging Riley in the ribs in an attempt to coax a smile for the camera, “but now it’s going to get turned up a notch! What went down just moments ago between Terrance Bailey and John Duran was truly intense, but our next match has the stipulation that those two formidable athletes will compete under at From The Fire - Hardcore!” “And let’s not forget the history here Comet,” Riley interrupts, a chance to derail his colleague in mid-hype overpowering even his surly attitude. “A mere 19 days ago a travesty took place when the debuting Toxxic beat Jacob Helmsley with a small package - what kind of way is that for the pipe-wielding maniac to lose a match? Well, tonight it’s hardcore and such a lame move won’t cut it this time!” Riley is interrupted in his turn by the opening electronic beats of Disturbed’s “Meaning of Life” flooding the PA system, almost drowned out by the torrent of boos in response. As the guitars kick in Jacob Helmsley appears at the top of the ramp, trademark steel pipe in hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, is for the Number One Contendership to the SWF Hardcore Gamer’s Championship and will be contested under HARDCORE RULES!” Funyon booms, playing for the cheap pop and getting it from the New Orleans crowd. “Introducing first, from Calgary, Alberta, Canada, he weighs in tonight at 227lbs... JAAACOB... HEEELLLMMMSSSLLEEEYYY!” Striding slowly to the ring Jake’s face registers no effect of the jeering that surrounds him, but it is unclear whether this is because he is deliberately blanking the fans out or that they are beneath his notice altogether. Reaching the ring Jacob casually swings his pipe so that it connects with the post. *THUNK* Rolling in under the bottom rope Jacob shrugs off his trenchcoat and brandishes his pipe above his head to the disdain of the New Orleans faithful who stand up and heckle the man from Calgary, but for all the notice Jacob takes it might as well be the wind blowing around him. “Citizen Helmsley hasn’t had the best of luck lately, Robert,” Comet notes. “Not only did he exit the Clusterfudge most painfully, but he lost to Toxxic and then lost a tag match with Spike Jenkins as well. Even his victory over the Insane Luchador on Storm only came about due to his opponent not turning up, and after the decision was announced Jacob certainly looked less than happy at having no target to take his rage out on.” “And that is precisely why Jake will be so dangerous tonight, Comet,” Riley asserts. “Toxxic won’t know what hit him, I promise you that. Then Helmsley can go on to face the so-called “Black Angel” for the Hardcore Title - and that match will NOT be pretty.” “Um, Robert? I think someone might have something to say about that little scenario...” Helmsley’s music cuts out, and the brutal guitars of “We Still Kill The Old Way” by Lostprophets crunches out over the New Orleans Arena. As if on cue from Comet’s last comment “Prepare To Be Proved Wrong” flashes up on the blacked-out Smarktron prior to a clip of Toxxic taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table with the Toxxic Shock Syndrome, the devastating landing timed to coincide with... GO! ...red pyros going off either side of the entrance way and Toxxic emerging from behind the curtain, cracking his neck from side to side and staring down at the ring where an emotionless Helmsley awaits. Toxxic reaches the bottom of the ramp, almost as oblivious to the cheers he’s garnering as Helmsley was to the boos, and hesitates... but only for a second. Rushing the ring the British straight-edger slides under the bottom rope and scales the turnbuckles, throwing his arms wide, palms flat as New Orleans makes some noise - noise that quickly turns to shouts of warning as Jacob Helmsley rushes his opponent from behind, steel pipe already descending to do untold damage to Toxxic’s back... ...but it only finds the padded top turnbuckle as Toxxic vaults over the top rope at the last second and lands on the floor. The landing is hard as Toxxic shakes out his slightly twisted right leg, but infinitely preferable to a steel pipe to the back. Staring down at the smaller wrestler from his vantage point in the ring Helmsley holds his thumb and forefinger up a mere centimetre apart as if to say “I was this far from crippling you,” and then steps back, inviting Toxxic to return. For his part Toxxic stares around at the crowd, wisely not eager to get back within range of that deadly pipe. *DING! DING!* “TOX-XIC!” “TOX-XIC!” “TOX-XIC!” As the chant starts up Toxxic shrugs and slowly climbs back up onto the ring apron, eyeing Jacob cautiously. The Canadian psycho just stands there, daring Toxxic to get in, pipe at the ready. Looking round at the crowd once more Toxxic casually edges a hand into one of the huge pockets in his baggy trousers, and as Jacob tires of his game and starts to advance the Brit whips out... ...a gun. And pointing it directly as Helmsley’s head, he squeezes the trigger. *SSSSSSSSPPPPPLLLLLLLLAAAAAAASSSSSSHHHH!* “A water pistol!?” Comet and Riley shout in incredulous unision. With Jacob momentarily spluttering and blinded by the spray of water Toxxic drops the mini SuperSoaker and vaults to the middle of the top rope, coming off with a springboard spinning heelkick that lands squarely in the middle of his opponent’s muscular chest. The impact sends Helmsley crashing to the mat and knocks his trusty steel pipe from his hand, and Toxxic attempts to follow up his sudden advantage by kicking his opponent’s favoured weapon out of the ring completely. With Jacob now disarmed the Brit raises the Canadian Psycho back to his feet and tries to whip him into the ropes, but Helmsley reverses the momentum and sends Toxxic towards the cables instead. As the rookie rebounds Jacob puts his head down for a back bodydrop... but that’s never a good idea against Toxxic, and the straight-edger kills his own momentum and hits Jake with the facebuster/DDT combo known as the Sobering Thought! “Citizen Helmsley got ‘sobered up’ in the first meeting between these two,” Comet chortles, “you’d have thought he’d have learned from that!” “Comet, right now Jacob is only a few seconds from splattering Toxxic’s brains all over the ring,” Riley rejoins angrily. “All he needs to do is get hold of his pipe- hey, that’s not fair!” Leaving Helmsley momentarily stunned inside the ring Toxxic rolls to the outside and, seeing Jake’s trusty steel pipe lying on the floor, takes the opportunity to kick it under the ring where his opponent won’t be able to find it. Reaching under the ring apron himself Toxxic grabs hold of something... and pulls out an eight-foot ladder! Looking up the British punk sees Jacob getting to his feet by the ropes so he rams the ladder up into Helmsley’s ribs, doubling the Canadian Psycho over. However Jacob’s head now overhangs the top ropes as he clutches his midsection, so in one swift move Toxxic traps his opponent’s cranium between two rungs of the ladder before simply hanging off it, using all of his weight to choke Jacob over the top rope. “That’s totally unfair!” Riley bellows as Jacob gasps for air, arms flailing helplessly. “Toxxic is just... that’s illegal, Comet!” “YOU were the one approving of Citizen Helmsley cracking Toxxic’s skull open,” Comet argues as Toxxic releases his opponent. “In fact you said he would ‘splatter his brains all over the ring’.” “OK, I admit I was wrong there.” “Good.” “Toxxic doesn’t have any brains.” With Jacob on his knees and wheezing the way is clear for Toxxic to return to the ring, bringing his ladder with him, and as the pipe-wielding maniac from Calgary starts to regain his breath and his feet the Brit determines to see what else he can use his new favourite weapon for. Charging with it levelled at waist height rather like a pole-vaulter Toxxic drives Helmsley straight back into the turnbuckles, the impact of the bottom rung forcing the breath out of Jacob’s lungs again. The two legs of the ladder protruding beyond the bottom rung are resting on the middle rope, and with Helmsley momentarily stationary Toxxic decides to try something a little out of character. Slapping his knee in the universal motion for “Shining Wizard” the British punk starts to run up the slanted ladder towards Jacob’s head... but at the last moment Helmsley surges back into life, hoisting the ladder upright and causing Toxxic to jump backwards off it. The rookie lands on his feet but is unable to avoid a vicious clothesline from the Canadian Psycho, and Helmsley lets out a loud roar as the tables turn on the young man from Nottingham. Hauling Toxxic upright with no apparent effort Jake scoops him up before slamming his opponent down back-first onto the fallen ladder! *CRASH!* Snarling at his fallen opponent Jacob rolls under the bottom rope and heads outside in search of his favourite weapon - but it is nowhere to be seen! With frustration and disgust written on his face Helmsley heads to the timekeeper’s position and grabs the man’s steel chair, snapping it shut and heading back to the ring where Toxxic is starting to rise, clutching his back. With sadistic glee Helmsley raises the chair high over his head but is cut off by a desperation right hand to the gut. As Jacob doubles over Toxxic reaches up and wraps both hands around Jacob’s head before sitting out, driving his own skull into his opponent’s jaw. The force of the impact staggers the man from Calgary and Toxxic gets to his feet again, determined to press his advantage... but only runs straight into a stunning chairshot! *CRACK!* “Toxxic is really taking some punishment here, Robert,” Comet calls with some concern. “He needs to start using his speed to keep ahead of Jacob Helmsley or this match will be over quicker than that time you accidentally stumbled into a strip club!” “Toxxic needs to do nothing, Comet,” Riley replies smugly, “apart from continue to be pummelled. And for your information, I left so quickly because of the extortionate drink prices.” Dropping the chair to the mat Helmsley wrenches the man from the UK upright and fires off a right hand to the jaw to maintain his advantage before wrapping one arm around his opponent’s shoulder and dropping backwards, driving Toxxic’s head and back into the chair with a Russian Leg Sweep! The straight-edger’s back jerks into spasms but Jacob merely springs back to his feet and cracks a slight smile at the derision poured down upon him by the fans in New Orleans. Grabbing his opponent by his head Jacob hauls him back to his feet once more and slides his right arm under Toxxic’s, trapping the rookie’s head and shoulder, before exploding into violent action once more and driving the Brit back down onto the chair with a vicious STO! *WHAM!* As Toxxic writhes in pain from the latest assault Jacob swoops upon his opponent’s prone form and hooks the leg for a cover... ONE! TWO! TH- Kickout! Despite the punishment meted out to his back Toxxic is able to kick out just after two, but Jacob merely responds by repeatedly stomping on his opponent, apparently trying to drive his foot right through the Brit’s ribcage. Finally tiring of his efforts to turn Toxxic into straight-edge paste Helmsley rolls under the bottom rope and heads outside again, once more apparently on the search for his beloved steel pipe. “Under the ring, Jake!” Bobby Riley yells, eager to help his favourite. “The little punk threw it under the ring!” Guided by Riley’s desperate gestures Helmsley bends down to peer under the ring apron - only to receive two feet to the face as Toxxic hits a desperation baseball slide underneath the bottom rope! Jacob hits the ground outside, momentarily stunned, but Toxxic is not in a much better state inside the ring as he holds his back and ribs, and Jacob recovers first. Shaking his head to clear the haze and glaring at his fallen opponent in order to detect any new signs of movement Helmsley again reaches under the ring. At first the man from Calgary can’t seem to find what he’s looking for, but as he crawls further under his hand seems to close on something... and Jacob emerges triumphantly clutching his favourite weapon as the crowds boos hit a new high! Uncharacteristically acknowledging the crowd’s presence Jacob takes a brief moment to taunt his detractors by raising the pipe above his head, and then turns to get back to business with Toxxic - who comes flying over the top rope with a suicide dive! “TOX-XIC!” “TOX-XIC!” “TOX-XIC!” “Amazing!” Comet exclaims. “Toxxic knew that the moment Citizen Helmsley is able to use that steel pipe this match is as good as over, and he was able to cut his opponent off! He must be running on adrenaline at the moment Robert, after those blows to the back and chest.” “Either that or the little swine was playing possum,” Riley mutters. Toxxic doesn’t appear to be impersonating any kind of marsupial however, except possibly one in dire need of a chiropractor. Clutching his back Toxxic is still able to deliver a thunderous European uppercut to Helmlsey, staggering him backwards, followed by a second that causes the bigger man to stumble and hold onto the ring for support. Glancing over his shoulder Toxxic sees the steel pipe lying on the ground behind him where the impact of the suicide dive knocked it from Jacob’s hand, and realising that he needs to do everything possible to keep his opponent from regaining it Toxxic simply grabs Helmsley’s head and rams it into the ring post. Jake rebounds from the impact and wobbles away, and sensing an advantage Toxxic pursues... only to have two arms wrapped around his chest as Jacob captures him in a bearhug before casually tossing the rookie over his head and driving him down onto the thin protective mats around the ring with a brutal belly-to-belly suplex! Pushing himself to his feet Jacob feels a wet sensation on his forehead and puts a hand up to determine the source - which transpires to be the dark red of his own blood, now starting to leak out following his collision with the ring post. Wiping his hand on his leather pants Jacob heads back towards the one thing he cares about - his pipe - and finally regains possession of it without annoying straight-edgers flying over the ropes at him. With a sadistic grin returning to his face Jacob turns to stalk his quarry, now pulling itself slowly to its feet, using the guard rail as support. “It’s just a matter of time now, Comet!” Riley chuckles gleefully. “In a few seconds Jacob will begin tenderising that piece of British beef!” “...That’s a truly worrying analogy, Robert.” The crowd in the New Orleans Arena once again comes to Toxxic’s aid, the swelling creschendo of noise warning the Brit that danger is approaching, and he throws himself to one side just in time to avoid Jake’s downswing. Desperately backing away Toxxic finds himself up against another ringpost, this one not stained by Helmley’s blood but with Jacob himself in hot pursuit. Raising his weapon once more the Canadian Psycho swings at head-height but Toxxic manages to avoid decapitation by ducking the shot, causing pipe to connect with ringpost with a solid *THUNK!* noise, and the straight-edger scrambles away again. With Jacob pursuing at his usual deliberate pace Toxxic dives into the ring in an attempt to get away from his better-armed adversary... and finds himself right next to the fallen ladder. As Jacob climbs up onto the apron Toxxic heaves with all his might and the steel ladder slides across the ring and takes out Jake’s legs, causing the man from Calgary to fall and hit his head on the ring apron. With a momentary advantage Toxxic grabs the chair that Jacob previously used to damage his back, slides out of the ring and, as the pipe-wielding maniac starts to regain his feet, brings it down hard on the Canadian’s head. *CRACK!* The force of the blow drops Jacob, but only to one knee. Astounded by his opponent’s resilience Toxxic swings again... *CRACK!* ...and this time it knocks the Canadian Psycho onto the mats. Diving onto his prone adversary Toxxic hooks the leg as referee Ced Ordonez slides out of the ring to make the count. ONE! TWO! THR- Kickout! Frustrated at Jake’s refusal to stay down Toxxic reaches under the ring again, and pulls out another chair. Holding one in each hand the straight-edger waits until Jacob is on both knees before bringing his arms together, blasting the Canadian in the head with a double chairshot! The impact sends Jacob down to the mat again as Toxxic turns to salute the crowd and yells “You know when you’ve been Tango’d!” before dropping his weapons and making another cover, hooking both of Jacob’s legs in an effort to pile all his opponent’s weight onto his shoulders. ONE! TWO! THRE- Kickout! Sure that he’d got the three-count this time Toxxic gets to his feet and starts to argue with referee Ordonez, but doesn’t get very far before his eyes suddenly bulge... *CHING!* “Ballshot!” Riley laughs. “Never take your eyes off your opponent, you dolt!” “Especially not in a match where anything is legal,” Comet agrees, “and that mistake might cost Toxxic...” Helmsley fired off the low-blow more through instinct than anything else, even the Canadian Psycho’s head spinning after those chairshots. But Helmsley sees Toxxic standing there, legs still apart (if slightly knock-kneed) and seeks to take advantage with a school boy pin... ONE! TWO! THR- Kickout! Without wasting any time Jake grabs his dry-heaving opponent in a gutwrench and hoists him upwards until the Brit’s body is draped over Helmsley’s shoulder in a Canadian backbreaker. The weight causes Jake to stagger momentarily as he tries to clear his head, but the strength of the big man is more than up to the task and now Toxxic is trapped upside down and with a steadily increasing pressure on his ribs. Ordonez moves in, asking Toxxic if he wants to give the match up but the man from Nottingham repeatedly replies in the negative, despite the ominous creaking sounds coming from his ribcage. The sadistic grin returns to Jacob’s face as he cinches the hold in tighter and tighter, but apparently deciding that Toxxic isn’t giving up anytime soon Helmlsey decides to resort to more direct measures and slams the rookie back down again, driving him face-first into the mats! Without bothering to go for the pin Jacob scans the ground until he finds what he’s looking for - his pipe. Taking the lethal length of steel in hand Jacob simply places it across Toxxic’s windpipe and presses down with all his weight, ignoring the desperate kicking of his victim’s legs as the Brit struggles vainly to relieve the pressure by pushing back. Finally a desperate Toxxic releases the pipe with one hand and pokes a black-nailed finger into Jacob’s eye, causing the Canadian to yell in pain and sit backwards sharply. Free from the asphyxiating hold Toxxic can do nothing momentarily and the brief moment to recover allows Jake to take control again. Planting a kick into his opponent’s ribs to keep him down, Helmlsey lifts the ring apron one more time and delves beneath, hauling out a table. As the atmosphere inside the New Orleans Arena starts to buzz with anticipation Helmlsey swiftly and expertly sets the table up before grabbing Toxxic and placing him in a standing headscissors. “We could be about to see Toxxic’s Downfall, Comet!” Riley calls as Jacob makes a throat-cutting gesture. “I fear you may be correct, Robert,” Comet accedes. “It certainly looks like Jacob will face Aecas... Merciful Zeus!” *KERRRUNCH!* With a crunch of breaking wood and quite possibly breaking bones Jacob drives Toxxic through the table with his mighty Downfall powerbomb. Leaning forward over the rookie’s limp body Helmlsey barks a terse instruction at Ordonez to count the pinfall, and the ref slides in to administer the count... ONE! TWO! THREEEEEEE- Kickout! “TOX-XIC!” “TOX-XIC!” “TOX-XIC!” “Unbelievable!” Cyclone Comet explodes at the New Orleans crowd starts to raise the roof of the arena. “Citizen Toxxic managed to get his shoulder up!” “Just, Comet, just,” Bobby Riley mutters darkly. Snarling in frustration Jake Helmsley hauls his opponent upright, scattering broken pieces of table asunder. Toxxic’s legs have other ideas however, and seemingly unable to support his own bodyweight the British punk drops back to his knees... *CHING!* ...and slams his forearm up into the Canadian Psycho’s happy-happy-joy-joy area! “Turnabout is fair play, Robert!” Comet shouts to the spluttering Riley. “Helmsley let his guard down and now it’s he who has been testicularly traumatised!” Moving with a speed borne of desperation Toxxic slides behind Helmsley and grabs the Canadian’s head in both hands before simply sitting out, slamming the back of Jake’s skull into the mats. Leaning forward and grabbing a leg Toxxic desperately signals at Ordonez to count, which the referee leaps to do... ONE! TWO! THREEE- Kickout! Rising back to his feet Toxxic casts around for inspiration and sees the ladder he used to take out Jake’s legs still hanging over the ring apron. Pushing it back into the ring the straight-edger then picks up the two chairs and slides them in after it before rolling Helmlsey in as well. Following his opponent in Toxxic grabs a chair and sets it up, then does the same with the other one before bridging the gap between them with the ladder. Turning away from his creation Toxxic bends down to pick Jacob up - but the Canadian explodes outwards, driving the rookie across the ring into the turnbuckles and the breath from his lungs! “GORE! GORE! GORE!” Riley shouts in glee. “It’s time for Jacob to take control of this match Comet!” “I don’t know what Toxxic had planned with that little construction, but I think it might get used against him now.,” Comet replies. “Certainly Jacob isn’t a man to let an opportunity to inflict suffering go to waste.” Firing off a right hand at his opponent’s head Jacob whips Toxxic across the ring towards the other set of turnbuckles, but as the man from Calgary follows his opponent in Toxxic vaults to the top and then comes flying back at him with a diving clothesline! “Role Reversal!” Comet shouts. “The momentum in this match is swinging faster than a party at your house, Robert!” “I’m choosing to believe you’re referring to my collection of big band classics, Comet.” Both men rise to their feet together, but it is Jacob who gets off a punch first... and it is Toxxic who blocks it. The man from Nottingham replies with one of his own, and this finds a mark on the pipe-wielding maniac’s jaw. RIGHT! LEFT! RIGHT! LEFT! Windup... DISCUS CLOTHESLINE! The impact from the move sends Helmsley sprawling backwards, and whether by accident or design the Canadian Psycho ends up lying on the ladder, balanced as it is between the two chair seats. With one more right hand to the temple to briefly stun his opponent Toxxic heads outside, then raises three fingers over his head. The crowd fall silent briefly, but then roar back into life as Toxxic jumps from the apron... ...to the top rope... ...to the top turnbuckle... ...MOONSAULT! “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “TRIPLE-JUMP MOONSAULT THROUGH THE LADDER!” Comet screams as Toxxic shifts his weight back onto Helmsley for the cover, wincing at the pain in his ribs. “Surely that must be it!” ONE! TWO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEE- Kickout! “THAT WAS THREE!” “THAT WAS THREE!” “How!?” Comet asks, echoing the sentiments of all in the arena, Toxxic included. “How did that only get two?” “Because Jacob Helmlsley is one uber-tough son-of-a-bitch, Comet,” Riley replies simply. Toxxic’s pleading with Ced Ordonez fails to move the referee, but as the straight-edger turns back to his opponent something seems to snap inside him. One chair and the ladder have been mangled by the impact of the preceding move, but kicking them viciously out of the way Toxxic grabs the undamaged steel chair and slams it down in a set up position in the middle of the ring. Grabbing Jake Helmlsey by the throat the Brit wrenches the barely-conscious Canadian Psycho upright and hauls him over to the chair. “I don’t like the look of this, Robert,” Riley says nervously. “I think Toxxic’s just lost it!” Spitting into his opponent’s face Toxxic yells at Jake, Ordonez and the arena in general: “You want hardcore!?” “YES!” the crowd predictably replies. “Then you’ll f*cking get hardcore!” Toxxic drives a knee into Jake’s gut, doubling him over, then snares his man in a front facelock. Hooking Helmsley’s leg as if setting him up for a fisherman’s suplex Toxxic hoists Jake vertical... then twists him along a vertical axis and brings him down in a Ki Krusher... THROUGH THE FUCKING CHAIR. “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” “Caffeine Bomb THROUGH the chair!” Comet cries. “That HAS to do it!” ONE! TWO! THREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! *DING DING!* “Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner and NEW number one contender to the SWF Hardcore Gamer’s Championship... TOXXIIICCC!” Funyon booms, vying with cheers and the guitars of the Lostprophets. The new number one contender rolls off Jake Helmsley’s limp body and out of the ring, seemingly both physically and spiritually exhausted by the effort necessary to put Helmsley away. Disregarding the cheering fans the man from Nottingham walks up the ramp, holding his ribs again as the residue of adrenaline and the last surge of burning anger that allowed him to defeat the Canadian Psycho drain away. The cameras cut back to Ced Ordonez trying to revive Jake Helmlsey in the ring, as we FADE OUT. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 26, 2004 As Lockdown returns from commercial break we come onto the view of the SWF Commentators Table, helmed by the masked hero known only as Cyclone Comet along with his obtuse sidekick Bobby Riley it is more than obvious that though ‘Fat Tuesday’ has come and gone, the party has yet to end! Draped around Bobby’s neck are several dozen colorful strings of beads and one string of red beads just barely hanging on to the top of Comet’s head. “… Citizen Robert, I really must attest to decorating ourselves with these beaded ornaments, it can lead us nowhere but down the path of sleaziness and despair!” pleads Comet, unaware that Lockdown has returned from commercial break. “The Superhero Council would not approve of my partaking in such activities.” “Oh be quiet, Comet,” says Bobby, rolling his eyes. “there is nothing wrong with celebrating a day late, beside… why would the opinion of a Superhero Council matter, remember: they’re the ones supporting a bunch of vigilantes. Now… ” Standing to his feet, Bobby continues. “… IF you don’t mind Mr. Spandex-Pants, I need some more beads.” Bobby spins around towards the crowd and promptly raises his shirt up over his head exposing his chest to all. “WHOOOOOO! WHOOOOOO! WHOOOOOO!” “OH… MY… GOD!” gasp Comet, simply horrorstricken by the sight as the crowds cheer Bobby on, not helping matters in the least. “That is unquestionably nauseating, Citizen Robert, you sir… should be ashamed! It’s a good thing were still on commer… ” But as Comet spins his head towards the cameras he notices a little red blinking light. “Oh, no… we are live, aren’t we.” The camera shakes up and down as if nodding to say yes and Comet’s head sinks into his hands. “Please for the love of Athens, PLEASE say you guys censored that, there could be children watching!” “Aw, quiet down you party pooper.” says Bobby, “I don’t think there is a kid alive who hasn’t seen a man’s chest before. Anyway, since we are back on… don’t we have a match coming up?” “That we do. replies Comet, “Our next match will feature “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins taking on Johnny Dangerous with a shot at the SWF United States Junior League Championship on the line! Let’s take it to Funyon!” “Ladies and Gentlemen,” begins Funyon, “the following contest scheduled for one fall will be for the number one contendership to the Smartmarks Wrestling Federations United States Junior Leagues Heavyweight Championship! Entering first… ” The lights dim and “Hot Today” begins pumping through the speakers, prompting the crowd to cheer for the entrance of Spike Jenkins. Swiping aside the curtain, Spike strolls out onto the stage and heads straight down the ramp towards the ring. “Weighing in at two hundred-twenty five pounds, and hailing from Hollywood, California… ‘HOLLYWOOOD’ SPIIIIIIKE JENKINS!!” “Hmm,” observes Comet, “Spike doesn’t look too good today. In fact I’m not sure he looks well enough to be competing here tonight.” “Nonsense,” replies Bobby, “a real competitor wrestles under any condition. In fact… some of my best matches were fought when I was two sheets under the wind!” “I hardly think being drunk and being ill are in the same category, Citizen Robert. I would hate to report you to W.A.D.D.” “Oh, what’s that?” “Wrestlers Against Dumb-ass Drunks.” Spike slides into the ring and takes to a far corner, sinking deep into it as the lights dim back down and a deep sultry voice whispers the name of the SWF’s resident Secret Agent. “JOHNNY DANGEROUS~!” “After the Flesh” immediately comes thundering across the arena, while the stage begins to fill with the haze of white smoke swirling out from the sides. Dozens of strobes light up the set, piercing through the smoke and partially illuminating the Barracuda as he steps out from backstage dressed in his sleek-black casual attire with a pair of high-tech shades! “And his opponent, weighing in at two hundred and seventeen pounds, and hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada, he is one half of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation’s Tag Team Champions, I give you ‘The Barracuda’, JOHNNNNY DAAAANGEROUUSS!!” Slinging the Tag Team Title over his shoulder, Johnny begins to walk in stride down the ramp, flashing that million dollar smile and winking at those luscious ladies that adorn the first row. He steps up each step of the steel staircase, and then glides across the length of the apron, stopping about midway and turning to the fans before pumping his fist out to them as thousands of flash bulbs explode! Johnny steps into the ring and hands off his title belt to Referee Eddie Long before shedding his coat and flinging his shades off his face and into the crowds, and… to a massive pop no less! He steps forward, ready to meet up with Spike Jenkins in the center of the ring, but Spike quickly asks Funyon for his microphone. Funyon simply shrugs and hands off his microphone. “Wait a second, Johnny,” pleads Spike, stepping forward towards the middle of the squared circle. “please… hear me out for a minute.” “What in the world is Citizen Jenkins doing?” “Hush, Comet,” snaps Bobby, “I don’t want to miss any trash talk!” “Listen,” Spike continues, in between a few short breaths, “I don’t want to wrestle you Johnny. Not tonight anyway. I seemingly came down with a virus over the weekend, and it’s taking all the energy I can muster to even stand here tonight in this ring.” “Sounds like someone had a little too much to drink last night!” mutters Riley, “Virus my left ass cheek!” “So before anything comes to blows… ” “Now your talking,” says Riley, leaning forward in his seat with some newfound interest. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Robert H. Riley,” scolds Comet, “THAT is not what Spike is talking about!” “… I want to just go ahead and throw in the towel.” says Spike, “If you’ll accept my offer, I promise to give you the match of your life when I’m feeling better!” As Spike lowers his microphone he looks on towards Johnny in quite the sickly manner, pleading with his expression for Johnny to accept. “Ot-Oh.” says Comet, almost under his breath. “It’s all in Johnny Dangerous’ hands right now. What will he have to say to Spike Jenkins? In one hand he could accept this offer like a true hero and walk out of this ring with a number one contendership to the USJL Title without even breaking a sweat! While in the other he could beat the flu right out of Citizen Jenkins, taking advantage of an easy victory while at the same time allowing his darker side to seep through.” “Oh my God, will you PLEASE shut up?” growls Bobby, “It’s not that serious! Spike has a hang over I tells ya, either that or he’s afraid! And if he is afraid of Johnny Dangerous than he be better of to avoid living anymore.” After a moment Johnny reaches for the microphone. “Okay, Spike,” says Johnny, “I’ll accept your offer, but you better make good on that promise.” The crowd howls in approval as Spike and Johnny shake hands and the Referee nods to Funyon to make the announcement. “The winner of this match,” bellows Funyon, “and NEEEW number one contender to the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation’s United States Junior League Heavyweight Championship, JOHNNNNNY DAAANGEEROUUS!!” “Well, that wasn’t quite the match I was hoping for,” says Comet, “but none the less it is always a pleasure to see that true sportsmanship is still alive and well here in the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation.” Eddie Long jogs back over to Johnny handing back his Tag Team Title as Spike rolls out of the ring and heads backstage. Johnny graciously accepts his title and prepares to exit the ring himself when- -“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!” the sound of a full choir softly singing rings out across New Orleans, sending the crowds into a booing frenzy! A single white light beams down onto the stage from the rafters, complete with floating particles in the beam and dozens of little flames light up the sides of the ramp. Suddenly AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” THUNDERS out and Todd Royal, Landon Maddix, and Megan Skye stroll out onto the stage. “Oh, it looks like you may get some action yet, Comet.” says Bobby, “Cause here comes the House of Todd!” “I can see that,” Comet replies, “but what are the doing out here now?” “Cut the music!” orders Todd Royal, stepping out in front of his church with a microphone in hand. Johnny stands in the ring, perplexed at this arrival and he himself reaches for a free microphone just in case. “Bravo,” Todd continues as the music ceases. “bravo to one hard earned victory, Johnny Dangerous, that was a hell of a stellar match!” “Such mockery,” scowls Comet, “it’s not Operative Dangerous’ fault Spike was too sick to wrestle here tonight.” “Again, will you just be quiet?” moans Bobby, “every time somebody gets on the microphone you have something to say, I mean… Todd Royal, Comet, give it a rest!” “It’s just too bad that your partner, Wildchild won’t have it that easy tonight.” says Todd, “and it’s also too bad that the both of you won’t have nothing close to easy when it comes to the House of Todd claiming those Tag Titles!” Todd pauses, knowing the crowd will respond with jeering before they even do. Once the finally settle, he continues again. “However, it seems that you and Wildchild have done everything under your power to avoid the Tag Team Title match that will result in Wild and Dangerous’ fall from grace.” “Royal,” booms Johnny, “what in the hell are you talking about? First off, WE have done nothing to avoid you clown’s, you KNOW where we are every single show!” “No, no, no,” snaps Todd, “FIRST of all YOU will address me as Todd!” “Yeah,” chimes Bobby, “show some damned respect, Johnny! The fact that Todd is out here and HE isn’t even on his knees is just asking for damnation!” “Secondly,” Todd continues, “you will not speak unless… ” “Royal,” again Johnny interrupts much to the joy of the crowd, “you want your match against Dub Cee and I, fine! I would even say let’s go tonight, but it seems that you already have a match against Wildchild, and let me tell you… it will take an act of GOD for you to actually win and claim that Cruiserweight Championship from Wildchild!” “THAT is where you are wrong,” growls Todd, “all it will take is an act of Todd, and that is exactly what will happen tonight in that very ring! I do not bend to the will of this God you speak of but only to mine; it took him seven days to accomplish his goals but it will only take two for mine!” “Folks,” says Comet, “I really must apologize for the blaspheme coming out of Todd Royal’s mouth, it in no way, shape or form represents how the SWF as a whole feels about God.” “Speak for yourself, Comet,” says Bobby, “I’m rather inclined to believe what Todd says… At least I can prove HE exhist!” “On the first day,” says Todd, “Todd will create the first defeat of the Bahama Bomber this year, and becoming Cruiserweight Champion in the process. On the second day the House of Todd will destroy the evil that is Wild and Dangerous, and claim the Tag team Championship.” “Your so full of shit, Royal,” shouts Johnny, “all this crap that you spew from your mouth just makes me sick. Day one, day two… neither one is going to happen! I was going to say lets do this at Smarkdown, but you know what? I don’t think that stage is big enough! What you and your whipping boy, Landon there need is to have both of your asses kicked so hard that it could ONLY be shown on pay per view!” “WOAH!” shouts Comet as the crowd erupts with cheers, “Johnny Dangerous just laid the challenge down, and he laid it thick!” “He’s just lucky that ring doesn’t open up and swallow him whole talking like that!” spits Bobby. “That’s right, Wild and Dangerous verses the House of Todd at From the Fire with the Tag Team Titles on the line!” says Johnny, tapping the gold plate of the Tag Team Belt strung over his shoulder. “Be warned though, Todd… Landon… you two better pad your asses with plenty of pillows before stepping into the ring; me and Wildchild are going to be aiming our feet right at them! I guess we’ll see just how Dangerous you boys like to live your lives… at From the Fire!” “After the Flesh” pounds from the speakers as Johnny flips the microphone over his shoulder while never taking his eyes of the House of Todd. “And we have yet one more match signed for the Pay Per View!” cheers Comet, “Wild and Dangerous versus The House of Todd, and what a match that will be!” “Yeah well, lets just hope Wildchild don’t mind Johnny doing all the talking for him.” says Bobby, “and speaking of the Baham Bomber, Todd Royal will proclaimed that he will defeat Wildchild tonight for that Cruiserweight Title. We’ll get to see that match in a bit, but first up Aecas vs Sacred!” “And we will have that after a word from our sponsors,” says Comet as we: Fade Out. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 26, 2004 (edited) SWF Lockdown fades back in from commercial, the cameras coming back to life with a wide shot of the sold out arena that hosts the latest edition of SWF action. The cameras zoom in on the crowd, panning over the sea of faces and signs that populate the arena, all of them buzzing with excitement at the show they have seen so far and ready and eager for more. The cameras eventually switch back to the announcers table revealing the one and only Cyclone Comet and his partner Bobby Riley, ready as ever to continue calling the action. “Hello Citizens and welcome back to SWF Lockdown! If you’ve just tuned in you’ve missed some great matches tonight but we still have lots more to come!” Cries Comet, greeting the viewers once again with customary gusto. “Indeed we do, and those of you too lazy to tune in earlier are just in time to watch the second hardcore match of the night! And considering who’s involved we should probably tell the technical guys to have a mop and a bucket ready.” “Sound advice Robert. Citizen’s Aecas and Sacred are both champions in their own right, Citizen Aecas is our new Hardcore champion and Citizen Sacred has only tightened his grip on the USJL Title!” “Though both of these men are champions they’re competing in a non title match tonight. But both of these men have had new contenders for their belts decided tonight. Spike Jenkins and Johnny Dangerous fought for the right to challenge Sacred, while Toxxic and Jacob Helmsley fought in another Hardcore match earlier this evening.” “And that’s not all, we still have two title matches to come on the show! Citizen Wildchild defending his Light Heavyweight Title once again and Citizen Matthews will defend his Intercontinental Title against Citizen West!” “Not to mention that weird Mouse Trap match Comet.” “Indeed Robert. We’ve had a multitude of entertaining matches so far and now its time to sit back and watch another!” Almost on cue the arena goes completely pitch black, a graveyard bell ringing ominously as the cheers of the fans echo around the arena before a deep voice reverberates through the arena speakers. "Are you scared?" "He's here..........." Dark Funeral's “Dead Skin Mask” blasts out from the arena speakers as red lights begin to strobe around the arena, like an alarm system gone wrong - or a system that is warning of imminent carnage. Thick smoke boils up from the entranceway, filling the air and carpeting the floor, a blood red spotlight picks out Aecas as he stands deep in the depths of the smoke, an eerie silhouette will a large staff in one hand and the Hardcore Title belted around his waist. Aecas raises the staff high above his head, a long wicked blade snaps forth from the staff to the cheers of the crowd. The Black Angel grins widely before moving back into the entrance way and pulling out a trolley full of weaponry to another loud pop from the fans. Aecas starts to walk down the aisle pulling the trolley with him as he carries his Scythe on one shoulder, his dead eyes staring down at the ring as Funyon raises his microphone to his lips. Ladies and Gentlemen! The following match will be conducted under Hardcore rules! Introducing first! From Shrewsbury, England! Weighing 315lbs! He is the SWF Hardcore Champion! THE BLACK ANGEL! AECAS!!!!!!!!!! Aecas halts on the outside of the ring, staring up at Funyon for a few moments before he grins dropping his Scythe and grabbing the trolley, the Black Angel hefts the trolley for a moment before tossing it effortlessly over the top rope, sliding into the ring as the metal crashes onto the canvas. Aecas slowly starts to get back up to his feet as the Smarktron begins to flicker, the image of Aecas standing in the ring breaking up as the picture goes to static the fans beginning to boo loudly as Andrew Blackwell’s voice comes over the speakers. "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." Abruptly the picture returns to normal as Sacred makes his appearance, the arena lights dimming down as spotlights are activated, following the Sacred One down the aisle as Lycia’s “Tainted” plays over the speakers trying to make itself heard above the rising boos of the crowd. “And his opponent! Weighing 216lbs! And hailing from Adelaide, Australia! He is the USJL Champion! SACRED!!!!!!!!!” Funyon quickly exits the ring after making his last announcement as the boos of the fans only increase in number and volume as Sacred nears the ring, Aecas watches his opponent approach for a few moments before he to steps out of the ring, unstrapping the Hardcore title from his waist and tossing it towards the Time Keepers table before searching under the ring. Sacred strides down the aisle, leaping up onto the apron and stepping through the ropes and into the ring, The Sacred One tears off the USJL title and holds it high for a long moment ignoring the boos and jeers of the fans before he too tosses the belt towards the Time Keepers table turning and looking to the outside at his opponent. Aecas pulls several steel chairs out from beneath the ring, hurling them into the squared circle one after the other, a table appears next to a huge pop from the fans quickly followed by a barbed wire board that gets an even louder pop as he positions it on top of the table. The Black Angel finally turns his attention back to Sacred who stoops and picks up one of the steel chairs, holding it loosely in one hand and beckoning to the giant. Aecas grins at his opponent before he slides into the ring and charges at Sacred. “Citizen Aecas isn’t going to wait for the bell!” “And Here we go!” Aecas slides to his feet and lunges at his opponent but as quick as the Black Angel is the Sacred One is much faster, ducking under a huge clothesline attempt and whipping around as Aecas rebounds off of the ropes. Sacred rears back and throws the chair straight into Aecas’ face, the metal seat cracking off the giants forehead and stopping his charge in its tracks, sending him staggering back against the ropes. Sacred keeps the momentum going, rushing across the ring to the corner the Sacred One leaps onto the second rope, springboarding himself backwards. Sacred twists his body in mid air as he flies back into the ring, both boots connecting squarely with Aecas’ chin, knocking the giant sideways and into the other corner as Eddy Long finally signals for the bell. DING! DING! DING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! “And Citizen Sacred is starting this match off quickly and painfully!” “Against Aecas its speed that’s going to count in this match. Not to mention all the weapons that are available tonight, Aecas is going to have a hard job beating Sacred, and vice versa, neither man wants to walk out of there a loser tonight!” Sacred quickly picks himself up and is instantly back on the offensive, leaping forwards and smashing a Superkick into the chin of the Black Angel snapping his head back and making him stumble out of the corner clutching his jaw. The Sacred One wastes no time, rushing to the corner he grabs the ropes with both hands, leaping onto the second rope Sacred uses the momentum to spring up to the top catapulting himself off of the top rope and back into the ring once again. Aecas turns around just in time to see a 216 pound missile come flying at him as Sacred takes the Black Angel down to the canvas with a perfect Crossbody, the Sacred One wastes no time in hooking one of Aecas’ massive legs as he goes for an early pin. “Beautiful High Crossbody off of the top by Citizen Sacred!” “He’s trying to put Aecas away early!” ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … TW……… Aecas easily kicks out before Long’s hand can smack the canvas for two, sending Sacred tumbling off of him as he quickly starts to get back up to his feet. The Sacred One is also quick to get back up, and even quicker to plan his next move, rushing to the nearest corner and quickly scaling the turnbuckles once again. “Citizen Sacred is going to have to do more than that to keep Citizen Aecas down for three.” “Yes he is Comet but he’s speeding up the pace of this match, and he looks set to continue his aerial assault!” Sacred waits for Aecas to turn around, leaping off of the turnbuckle when the giant finally obliges diving feet first for his huge opponent only to be denied as the Black Angel swats his feet away leaving him nothing but a hard landing on the canvas. Before the Sacred One can get his bearing Aecas is on top of him, two massive arms wrapping around the waist of his opponent heaving him backwards and off of his feet with a huge German Suplex. Aecas releases his grip at the apex of the Suplex sending Sacred sailing backwards to land on his head and shoulders, the momentum flipping the Sacred One head over heels and slamming him back down onto his stomach. “Citizen Sacred didn’t catch Citizen Aecas napping that time!” “And this is where Sacred is going to get into trouble, Aecas has got a chance to slow the pace down now, and if he does that then Sacred could soon be in a world of hurt unless he can speed things up again.” Aecas is once again quickly on top of Sacred as the smaller man starts getting back to his feet a little groggy from the huge Suplex, the Black Angel wraps one huge arm around the head of the Sacred One grabbing his tights with his other. Aecas pauses for a second before lifting his opponent high into the air and dropping him back down to the canvas in one smooth fluid motion, driving Sacred’s head and shoulders into the canvas for a second time. “Evenflow Brainbuster! Citizen Aecas is starting to get some flow of his own!” “And now he’s going for the trolley! Its time to break out the toys!” Aecas moves over to the metal trolley reaching into its innards and pulling out a stack of light tubes to a roar of approval from the crowd, the Black Angel drops several of the tubes bunching two in his fist and moving over to the Sacred One who is doggedly getting back up to his feet. Aecas waits until Sacred looks up at him before he smashes the light tubes down on his opponents unprotected head, breaking the tubes in half and sending shattered glass scattering across the ring. The fans roar as Sacred slumps back down to the canvas, both hands clutching at his forehead as Aecas tosses away the broken stubs of the light tubes grinning as the fans pop loudly as he draws first blood. Aecas quickly steps through the ring ropes and drops to the outside, the Black Angel crouches and reaches under the ring once more, searching for a few moments before he drags out a long metal section of guardrail. The giant hefts the metal before he slings it into the ring, narrowly missing the Sacred One before he bends down and retrieves another pair of chairs that quickly follow the guardrail. “Aecas tossing a length of guardrail into he ring now; God only knows what he plans to do with that. “I don’t think anybody knows what goes through this mans mind Robert.” “Shards of glass will be going through it in a moment! Sacred is back up and he’s got the light tubes!” Aecas slides back into the ring standing up just in time to take a full fist of light tubes right to the face! The Black Angel staggers backwards into the corner, blood welling up from a myriad of cuts that now decorate his face, the giant’s blank eyes glare out from his bloody face, a grin starting to curl his mouth upwards as Sacred quickly grabs another chair. The Sacred One hefts the steel and charges at his giant opponent, the chair coming up as he moves before smashing down at the cornered Black Angel. The chair crashes down on an empty turnbuckle as Aecas lurches out of the corner at the last second, rushing across the ring and rebounding off the ropes. The Sacred One hefts the chair for a second time and rushes to meet his charging opponent, raising the chair once more to smash it into the face of his opponent. This time however luck is not with Sacred as the Black Angel’s right foot comes up, smacking the chair into his opponent’s bloody face and smashing the Sacred One from his feet. Ignoring his opponent momentarily Aecas grabs the fallen chairs and begins to set them up in a rectangular shape before hefting the guardrail and laying it across the open chairs, keeping the metal supported a foot off of the canvas. “What on earth is Citizen Aecas trying to orchestrate here?” “Nothing good for Sacred Comet that’s for sure.” Back in the ring Aecas returns his attention back to his opponent, who is starting to get back up despite the hard chair shot he just endured, this seems to suit the giants plans just fine as he pushes Sacred back into the corner, getting under his smaller opponent and lifting him up to sit on the top turnbuckle. Aecas quickly follows his opponent, climbing up the turnbuckle and wrapping one arm around Sacred’s head as he continues to move up the corner, taking his opponent with him. Both men make their way up standing precariously on the top rope for a moment before Aecas heaves his opponent up into the air, both men making a vertical tower on the top rope before they both plummet backwards right into the ring and right ONTO the suspended guardrail! “OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! “Superplex right on that guardrail!” “You have to question the mentality of somebody who does a move like that Comet! He just hurt himself as much as he hurt Sacred! Aecas slowly rolls over after the huge impact; the guardrail bent in the center from the combined weight of both men as they crashed through it, the Black Angel drapes an arm over the chest of the Sacred One trying for a pinfall. ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … TWO AND A HALF!!!!!!!! … … … … KICKOUT! “And there’s another problem right there, it took a lot out of both men but it still wasn’t enough to keep Sacred down, Aecas is going to have to come up with something more effective than that!!” “A valid point Robert, but both men are already stirring from that hellish impact with the guardrail. As you said it’s going to take more than that to put away Sacred.” Aecas rolls off of the damaged guardrail, slowly getting back up to his feet, an action mirrored by the Sacred One, the Black Angel shoves the guardrails towards the ring apron with one foot as he starts to advance once again on the champion. The giant grabs the right arm of the Sacred One, Irish Whipping him across the length of the ring into the ropes, Aecas standing his ground as Sacred rebounds and charges back towards him. Aecas’ hands shoot out, grabbing the Sacred One under the arms and hoisting him high up into the air looking for the Descent into Darkness Powerbomb. The USJL champion has other ideas however as his legs quickly wrap around the head of the Black Angel, Sacred quickly throws all his weight backwards, the sudden shift in weight taking his huge opponent clean off his feet and driving him back down to the canvas. “And the Citizen Sacred blocks the Descent Into Darkness and comes back with a huge Hurracarana!” “He’s got to speed up the pace again Comet, and he’s got to do it now!” The Sacred One is quickly back on his feet grabbing the remaining light tubes and piling them on top of the Black Angel’s chest before grabbing one of the chairs that now populate the ring. The Sacred One cracks the downed Aecas solidly on the head with the chair, the giant’s body convulsing from the impact, pausing only to readjust some of the light tubes that fell away from the Black Angel’s chest Sacred opens the chair and places it down facing away from the ropes. Sacred quickly backs up several paces before running straight for the chair using the steel to boost himself into the air as he leap up to the top rope, springboarding himself back into the ring and landing stomach first on his opponent shattering the light tubes and driving the glass deep into both Aecas and himself. “OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” “What a sadomasochistic move by Citizen Sacred!” “Sometimes the road to success demands sacrifice Comet! And that Triple Jump Moonsault may be all he needs to finish this!” “This is horrible Robert! There’s glass sticking out of both of them!” Aecas lays stock still, only the rise and fall of his now bloody chest giving any indication that he’s alive at all, after what seems like hours from his point of view, the Sacred One sucks it up, dragging himself forwards and laying an arm across the massive chest of his opponent. ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … TWO AND A HALF!!!!!!!! … … … … TWO AND THREE QUARTERS!!!!!!!!! … … … … KICKOUT! Aecas still manages a strong kickout, knocking his opponent off of him, the Black Angel slowly gets up to one knee a hand dragging over his chest, as he brushes away some of the glass shards that now decorate his skin, his face twisted in a worrying combination of pleasure and pain as Sacred rolls unnoticed out of the ring. “This is not a good sign for Sacred not only could he not make the pinfall quick enough, he couldn’t even hook a leg! That kind of oversight could cost him if he’s not careful.” “A valid point Robert, both of these men have been beating the living daylights out of one another and Citizen Sacred does not seem short of ideas tonight either! With one hand still clutching his chest the Sacred One crouches down, searching underneath the ring for yet another weapon, dragging out the long recognizable shape of a ladder from beneath the ring, to the delight of the crowd. “And now Citizen Sacred is bringing a ladder into this match! This environment just got a lot more dangerous for both men!” Sacred drags the ladder into a vertical position setting it up right next to the ring as Aecas slowly begins to get back up to his feet searching for his opponent, the Sacred One scales the ladder quickly, perching on the top two rungs above the top rope of the ring as he waits for the right moment. Sacred tenses as Aecas begins to turn around and then launches himself off the top of the ladder at his opponent, the Sacred One flies into the ring as the ladder collapses outside, catching Aecas completely off guard. The USJL Champion wraps an arm around the giant’s head in mid flight, twisting his opponent around with his momentum before smashing his head down into the canvas with a huge spinning Tornado DDT! “WOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!” HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! “Jumping Tornado DDT! All the way from the outside of the ring down into the canvas!” “Citizen Sacred caught Aecas napping with that one Robert!” “Yes he did, all he has to do now is COVER THE MAN!” Back in the ring the Sacred One is doing exactly that, diving on top of his giant opponent and hooking one huge leg with both hands as Eddy Long drops down to count the pinfall once again. ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … TWO AND A HALF!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … TWO AND THREE QUARTERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … … … … … THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Aecas kicks out of the pinning attempt once more, frustrating the Sacred One’s attempt at finishing the match once again; Sacred shakes his head in frustration before slowly sliding out of the ring once more to retrieve the fallen ladder. Aecas slowly starts to drag himself back up to his feet, the giant shaking his head violently and leaning against the ropes as he tries to shake off the impact of that huge DDT. Sacred picks up the ladder and climbs back up onto the apron of the ring, so intent is he on getting the ladder back in the ring that he doesn’t see the approaching Black Angel before it is too late. A huge elbow to the side of the head sends the ladder clattering back down to the floor as Sacred reels from the power of the blow, only just keeping a grip on the top rope as Aecas steps through the ropes and joins the USJL Champion on the apron. Another hard elbow rocks the Sacred One back long enough for Aecas to step forwards; the giant sends his huge right boot crashing into Sacred’s gut doubling the smaller man over. The fans, already on their feet and chanting from the action they have seen so far in this match cheer even louder as the Black Angel leans forwards, wrapping his thick arms around Sacred’s waist and hoisting the USJL champion up. Aecas lets Sacred’s body drape over his right shoulder in a Canadian Backbreaker Rack, a malevolent grin appearing on his face once more as he points down at the barbed wire table that he set up at the start of the match. “Citizen Aecas is looking to end it all with that barbed wire table Robert!” “I think he’s looking for Dark Ascension! He’s going to snap Sacred’s neck in half!” Tightening his grip on the Sacred One Aecas leaps off of the apron, pulling Sacred forwards off of his shoulders and sitting out in mid air, a split second before he PILEDRIVES HIS OPPONENT THROUGH THE BARBED WIRE TABLE! “RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” The arena explodes as both men go through the barbed metal, yet another fecal chant starting up as Aecas leans forwards rolling Sacred over onto his back and pinning him with a lateral press amid the wreckage of wood and barbed wire. Eddy Long quickly slides out of the ring and drops down to the protective mats outside as he counts the pinfall once again. ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … … TWO AND A HALF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … TWO AND THREE QUARTERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … … … … THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DING! DING! DING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The crowd explode once again, forcing a few more cheers from their tired throats as Dark Funeral’s “Dead Skin Mask” explodes from the arena speakers, Aecas raises himself up to his knees his head thrown back, his cry of victory lost in the sheer wall of noise as Funyon’s voice is only just audible over the cacophony. “The winner of the match by pinfall! THE BLACK ANGEL! AECAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” “And Citizen Aecas is victorious over Citizen Sacred!” “Yes he is Comet but it was a close run thing, Sacred could have had the match won several times but his luck crapped out when it came to the finish. If he’d been able to get that ladder back in there who knows what could have happened.” “Indeed Robert, but of course that is the benefit of hindsight. As it stands Citizen Aecas has just won an important match defeating the USJL Champion is no easy feat! Especially one as experienced as Citizen Sacred!” Aecas finally manages to extricate himself from the tangle of blood, barbed wire, and wood that cover the protective mats, leaning against the ring and grinning all the while as Eddy Long raises his arm in victory. The Black Angel slowly begins to walk around the ring moving past the announcer’s table and pausing at the Time Keepers table to collect his belt. He carries the Hardcore Title in one hand as he continues to walk around the ring, stooping in the aisle to pick up his Scythe long since dropped an forgotten as the match began before slowly walking up the aisle. He pauses when he reaches the stage, turning around and lifting both Scythe and belt into the air, in either hand grinning as the fans cheer once more, the Black Angel saluting the crowd with his Scythe before turning away and disappearing into the darkness of backstage. Back at the ring Sacred is slowly picking himself up, the Sacred One covered in as much blood as his opponent and clutching at his head from the short plummet into hell he just experienced. Moving to the Time Keepers table he collects the USJL Title and makes his own way up the ramp as “Dead Skin Mask” continues to blast over the speakers. “And the night continues Robert! I just hope for Citizen Aecas’ sake that he is still able to defend that belt against his new contender! These matches take quite the toll on the body and he has had two such matches in as many shows!” “That’s the risk that comes with the territory Comet.” “Quite so Robert. We are going to commercial now Citizens but be sure to stay tuned as coming up we still have the Mouse Trap match and Citizen Matthews defending his IC Title against Citizen West! But coming up next Our resident Light Heavyweight Champion Citizen Wildchild will defend his title against Citizen Royal! See you after the break good Citizens!” Edited February 26, 2004 by Grand Slam Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 26, 2004 FADE IN The camera quickly pans from the stage, where Todd’s Angels are assembling stage right, to the announce table, where Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley are watching them in bewildered amusement. “Well, ladies and gentlemen,” says Comet, “as you can see, Todd Royal’s congregation of ‘Angels is assembling just to the right of the SmarkTron, and that can only mean one thing!” “That’s right,” adds Riley enthusiastically. “I’ve been waiting weeks for this match to happen, and now it’s finally here! Todd Royal is going to bring glory to himself and the Unnamed when he wins the Cruiserweight Title here tonight!” “This will be Wildchild’s third title defense in four weeks,” says Comet, “and I have to admit, Robert, that you’re not the only person who thinks that Citizen Royal has a chance to pull off a major upset here tonight!” “You’re Todd Damn right,” replies Riley. “There’s no way that Todd leaves this arena without the Cruiserweight Title. I had a chance to speak with Todd before the match tonight, and he said that he went over Wildchild’s title defense against Landon Maddix with a fine-tooth comb. Believe me, Landon’s failures will only help Todd to triumph, and Maddix wouldn’t have it any other way!” “I give Todd Royal all the credit in the world,” concedes Comet. “He’s a premier athlete, and a superstar in the making, but it sounds to me as though you’re selling the champion short!” “Not at all,” answers Riley. “There’s no secret that I’m not a fan of Wildchild or his style, but I acknowledge the fact that he’s been one of the top superstars in the SWF for the past year or so; in fact, in recent history, only Ejiro Fasaki has had a better rookie year than Wildchild… but that’s what’s going to make this victory by Todd Royal so sweet! 2004 will be the year of Todd Royal, and he’s going to make a name for himself by defeating one of the bigger stars in the business today!” “Well, Todd Royal is going to need all of his cunning, and possibly some help from his loyal disciple Megan Skye, in order to take the Cruiserweight Title away from Wildchild. In order to find out if he can, let’s go to the ring, and our favorite announcer!” The lights in the New Orleans arena dim as Funyon steps between the ropes to enter the ring. Back upon the stage, Todd’s Angels sing a brief hymn as a solitary spotlight focuses on the backstage entrance: Todd can do anything, anything, anything, Todd can do anything but fail. He can save, He can keep, He can cleanse and He will, Todd can do anything but fail. He's the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, He's the fairest of ten thousand to my soul. Todd can do anything, anything, anything, Todd can do anything but fail! As the choir concludes their musical worship of their chosen Savior, the brash sound of AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” begins to bleed through the PA system. The New Orleans fans begin to boo in earnest as the challenger and self-proclaimed Messiah Todd Royal steps out from behind the curtain, accompanied as always, by Megan Skye. “Ladies and gentleman,” says Funyon, as Royal poses haughtily at the head of the ramp, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship! Making his way to the ring at this time, being accompanied by the ‘Toddess’ Megan Skye, and representing the Unnamed, is the challenger! From San Diego, California, weighing two hundred twenty pounds, TOOOOOD ROYAAAAAAL!” Royal makes his way regally down the ramp, dressed for the evening’s activity in black trunks with an uncharacteristic royal purple trim. “Todd Royal looks to be in great shape for this match,” marvels Riley. “You can tell that he’s prepared!” “He’d better be,” replies Comet. “The Unnamed have been in a little bit of a slump lately, ever since they fired Charlie Matthews, in fact!” “Mere coincidence,” dismisses Riley. “The Unnamed will definitely break out of their slump tonight, and Todd Royal is guaranteed to leave New Orleans tonight with some gold; I stake my reputation on it!” “Well, I hope for your sake that Todd Royal didn’t hear you just now,” jokes Comet. Todd’s Angels exit the stage and the arena lights are restored as Todd and Megan finally reach the ringside area, after a slow, leisurely walk down the ramp. They proceed up the steel steps to the ring apron, and Megan holds the ring open for Todd to enter the ring, and the Messiah reciprocates, holding the ropes down for his Toddess. Todd stalks across the ring and demands the microphone from Funyon, who grudgingly capitulates. “And Todd said, ‘let there be Gold,’” Royal shouts into the microphone, as his music fades out, “and there was Gold. And Todd saw that the Gold was good. And He declared that the Gold would be His… and it was so!” Todd pauses from his pontification to allow the crowd to boo him, and they oblige in earnest. “As you may have noticed, there is a slight variation in My ring attire tonight… Not that any of you Toddless heathens in New Orleans would know, but tonight is Ash Wednesday. I honestly don’t expect any of you soulless pagans to understand the significance of this night…” RO-YAL SUCKS! RO-YAL SUCKS! RO-YAL SUCKS! RO-YAL SUCKS! “… But fear not,” continues Todd, as Megan looks on in the background, a completely stoic look on her face. “For I, the Lord Todd, will offer you all a chance at salvation… I will wash all of your sins away tonight with the blood of Wildchild, and all you shall have to do is accept Me in your heart as your Lord and Savior.” “This kid is crazy,” exclaims Comet. “He’s delusional! This is a David Koresh situation!” “Be quiet,” admonishes Riley, he head bowed reverently. “Show some respect for the Lord Todd!” “Wildchild,” finishes Royal, “Tonight, you shall atone for the sins of all of these heathens in the crowd tonight. In consideration of Lent, I have already decided what you shall have to give up: your Cruiserweight Title! So, bring your Caribbean ass out here and repent! Allow yourself to be purified in this ring, for only then can you seek salvation through the Divine Forgiveness of Todd!” With that, Todd hands the microphone back to Funyon as the arena goes dark yet again, but this time, the crowd becomes jubilant as they realize that the darkness heralds 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 New Orleans crowd jumps out of their seats as Wildchild pops out from behind the curtain, bobbing up and down in time with the beat of Redman’s “Let’s Get Dirty.” “His opponent,” continues Funyon, “hails from the Bahamas and weighs two hundred fourteen pounds! He is the reigning and DEFENDING SWF Cruiserweight Champion! He is… the WIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” Wildchild runs down the ramp, slapping hands with the fans at ringside before somersaulting between the bottom and middle ropes to enter the ring. Rolling gracefully to his feet, Wildchild turns towards Royal, who stands calmly in the corner as Megan removes his jacket. Unbuckling the Cruiserweight Title belt from his waist, Wildchild holds it just out of arm’s reach of the challenger, a defiant look on his face, as if to say, “never gonna get it!” The Bahama Bomber walks across the ring and leaps onto the middle rope, holding the belt overhead as Redman shouts: “I CAN’T GET IN DA CLUUUUUB!” WHACK! THUD! … But, unseen by Wildchild, the challenger decides to take an aggressive stance in this match, running up behind the Champion and nailing him in the back with a running dropkick that sends him tumbling over the top rope and down hard to the arena floor! “Dropkick,” shouts Comet, as the lights are immediately brought back on, and Wildchild’s music is abruptly cut out. “Todd Royal sneaking up behind Wildchild like a thief in the night!” “Of course he did,” answers Riley, as Wildchild pulls himself to his feet outside the ring. “For it is written in the Book of Todd that he will return like a thief in the night, and it is so!” Comet glances askew at Riley, shaking his head as Todd walks over to the edge of the ring and grabs onto the top rope with both hands. The Messiah propels himself over the top rope and out to the arena floor… CRASH! … Smashing into the Tropical Tumbler with a devastating plancha! “Tremendous Plancha by Todd,” sings Riley, as Royal straddles the prone Cruiserweight Champion and begins to batter him with a rapid-fire series of right hands! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! The Messiah stands up and pulls Wildchild to his feet, only to grab him by the hair and lead him towards the corner of the ring… CLANG! … And slams him headfirst into the steel stairs! “What a brutal attack by Todd Royal,” moans Comet. “Why isn’t the referee doing anything?” “Like what,” asks Riley. “The match hasn’t officially started yet. He’s got to wait for both of them to be in the ring at the same time!” WHACK! Royal grabs Wildchild by the hair again and leads him over to the ring apron, before slamming his face against the edge of the ring. He then rolls the Champion underneath the bottom rope and climbs onto the ring apron, finally allowing referee Eddy Long to order the timekeeper to officially start the match. DING! DING! DING! “Finally,” says Comet. “The match is now officially underway, but Todd Royal has given himself a tremendous advantage by initiating that sneak attack!” Todd Royal turns out to face the fans, boasting his superior intelligence as Wildchild attempts to recover behind him. Megan jumps up and down, cheering Todd on enthusiastically, but not enough to drown out the screams of nineteen thousand fans: RO-YAL SUCKS! RO-YAL SUCKS! RO-YAL SUCKS! RO-YAL SUCKS! “Can you believe these people,” Riley asks incredulously. “Todd is fighting to cleanse them of their sins, and this is how they repay him? They aren’t worthy of Todd’s forgiveness!” So preoccupied is Todd with the fans that he fails to recognize Wildchild getting back to his feet behind him and race past him in a blur, leaping onto the top rope… WHACK! … And curling into a ball as he springs off of the top rope, blasting Todd in the chest with his patented Pinball attack! “Royal spent too much time jawing with the crowd,” reports Comet, “allowing Wildchild to hit him with that Pinball attack!” Wildchild runs over to Royal and pulls him to his feet, grabbing him by the wrist as he whips him towards the edge of the ring, but the Messiah easily reverses. Todd scoops the Champion into his arms as he bounces off the ropes, but the Human Hurricane continues to swing his lower body upwards, locking his legs around the challenger’s neck… WHAM! … And turning a tilt-a-whirl slam attempt into a breathtaking headscissor takeover! Todd rolls immediately back to his feet, but as he charges towards Wildchild, the Bahama Bomber locks his arm underneath that of the challenger and pops his hips, flipping Royal through the air with a hiptoss! “Beautiful hiptoss,” shouts Comet, “followed by a dropkick! Wildchild’s got the challenger reeling!” Wildchild waits for Todd to get back to his feet before charging towards him, leaping into the off the canvas and swinging his leg through the air sharply… WHAM! … Blasting the Messiah with a leg lariat that sends him tumbling through the ropes and out to the arena floor! Eddy Long begins a twenty-count on Royal and Wildchild pops back to his feet as the fans applaud his performance. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! CRASH! Wildchild races across the ring, bouncing off the ropes as the referee delivers his count on Todd Royal, and bounces off the ropes with near-blinding speed, flipping over the top rope and out of the ring, crashing into the challenger on the arena floor with a spectacular tope con hilo! “Unbelievable somersault plancha by the Champion,” marvels Comet, as Wildchild hammers Todd with a flurry of hard rights. “And look at him go to work; a little righteous payback for that earlier attack by Royal!” “Blasphemer,” shouts Riley. “There’s only one righteous person involved in this match, and it Todd Damn sure isn’t Wildchild!” Wildchild pulls Royal to his feet and traps him in a front facelock, grabbing the challenger’s leg with his free hand before quickly lifting him into the air, spinning around… WHAM! … And driving Todd into the solid steel ramp with a Corkscrew Suplex! ELEVEN! TWELVE! THIRTEEN! Cognizant of the referee’s count, Wildchild walks over towards the edge of the ring and slides under the bottom rope. As Long resets his count, the Caribbean Cruiser picks himself up and walks over to the corner, climbing up to the top turnbuckle. ONE! TWO! “What do you suppose Wildchild is about to do,” Comet wonders aloud. FOUR! FIVE! “Something stupid, no doubt,” answers Riley. SEVEN! EIGHT! WHAAM! As the referee continues his count, the Human Hurricane flings himself recklessly off the top turnbuckle, flipping backwards as he drops fifteen feet down to the arena floor, crashing into Todd with a death-defying moonsault! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! DUB-CEE! “By Zeus,” shrieks Comet. “What a TREMENDOUS moonsault by Wildchild!” But, as the cameraman focuses on the wreckage out at ringside, Wildchild is seen howling in pain as grips his right knee. SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! “Oh no,” moans Comet. “Wildchild appears to be holding his knee! Do you think that he might have banged it against the ramp when he hit that moonsault?” “It wouldn’t surprise me in the least,” replies Riley. “And it just goes to show that this kid has rocks in his head! How stupid do you have to be to try a move that risky in a title match when you already have the advantage?” “Wildchild is so comfortable flying from the top rope that it probably didn’t seem like a risky maneuver to him, Robert,” says Comet, as Wildchild rolls over onto his posterior, still holding his knee. “It’s not like him going to the top is the same as seeing Va’aiga or Charlie Matthews up there!” ELEVEN! TWELVE! “Maybe not,” counters Riley, “but if he’s not able to shake off that pain in his knee, his so-called comfort on the top rope is going to cost him his title!” FIFTEEN! SIXTEEN! Wildchild stands up, limping slightly on his right leg, and pulls Todd to his feet as well, leading him over to the edge of the ring and rolling him underneath the bottom rope. The Tropical Tumbler uses the ropes to pull himself onto the ring apron as referee Long stops his count. Pulling himself to his feet, he grasps onto the top rope before using it to propel himself into the ring… SPLASH! … Twisting around in midair as he crashes into Todd with a springboard body press! Wildchild cringes as he lands on top of the challenger, having apparently banged his knee again upon impact, but he tries to ignore the pain as he hooks the outside leg. Long drops down to the mat to deliver the three count: ONE! TWO! THRE— “No,” shouts Riley. “He got His hand on the bottom rope! Thank Todd!” Wildchild looks up at the referee in frustration, but Long coolly points towards the bottom rope, pantomiming the challenger’s activity. Undaunted, the Bahama Bomber stands up, still favoring his right leg as he pulls Todd to his feet. “That knee looks like it’s still bothering him,” worries Comet. “He’s hardly able to put any weight on it right now!” Todd stuns Wildchild with a kick to the knee and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him towards the edge of the ring, but the Caribbean Cruiser spins around on his left heel and reverses the whip attempt, sending Royal into the ropes instead. He leaps into the air to leapfrog the challenger as he rebounds… … But lands awkwardly, hobbling around as he holds onto his right knee. Todd comes to a stop behind him and becomes aware of the situation. Like a shark that smells blood in the water, the Messiah kicks at the back of Wildchild’s knee, causing him to fall helplessly to the canvas! Grabbing him immediately by the right heel, Todd raises Wildchild’s foot several feet off of the canvas… BAM! … Only to drop down, jamming the point of his elbow into Wildchild’s sore knee! He continues to lean against the Champion’s knee as he pulls up on the heel in an attempt to hyper-extend the knee. “Ha,” snorts Riley as the Tropical Tumbler howls in pain. “He’s got him now! Now watch as Wildchild suffers the awesome Wrath of Todd!” Todd gets back to his feet and drags Wildchild over towards the edge of the ring, draping his leg across the bottom rope and then using the top rope to propel himself into the air… WHAM! … Before crashing down in a seated position on Wildchild’s knee! Megan applauds outside the ring as Todd pulls himself back to his feet and drags the Bahama Bomber over to the corner. “Superb technical wrestling by Todd Royal,” gushes Riley. “Wildchild’s idiotic top rope moves put him in a vulnerable position, and it’s nothing at all to a mat tactician like Todd Royal to capitalize on it!” Todd positions Wildchild in the corner so that his legs are dangling outside, and then walks back towards the center of the ring, distracting Eddy Long as Megan Skye sneaks over towards the Cruiserweight Champion. “Pay attention, referee,” shouts Comet. “Look out for Megan Skye!” CRACK! Unseen by the referee, the Toddess grabs Wildchild by the leg and whips it hard against the ringpost, slamming his tender knee against the unforgiving solid steel! “This is unfair,” grumbles Comet. “It’s two against one out there!” “Hey,” answers Riley with a shrug, “it’s only cheating if you get caught; it must be Todd’s Will!” Wildchild drags himself away from the ringpost and pulls himself to his feet as the challenger turns his attention back towards him. Todd charges into the corner, and the Bahama Bomber surprises him by springing into the air to leapfrog him! The Messiah crashes chest-first into the turnbuckles, but Wildchild once again lands gingerly on his right leg and tries to limp away from the corner… SMACK! … But Royal recovers and quickly regains his advantage, storming out of the corner and clipping the Champion with a chop block! “Quick thinking on the part of the challenger,” says Riley. “Very smart to go back to that knee, and not even allow Wildchild the opportunity to fight his way back into this match!” Royal drags Wildchild back towards the center of the ring and rolls him onto his stomach before grabbing him by the ankle and lifting his leg high into the air… WHAM! … Only to jam his knee back into the canvas with a devastating Knee Cracker! “Todd is systematically dismantling Wildchild,” marvels Riley. “I told you, Comet; there’s no way that Todd Royal leaves New Orleans without the Cruiserweight Title!” Continuing to press his advantage, the Messiah straddles Wildchild, facing his lower body, and then bends down to grab him by the right ankle. Wrapping his arms around the Champion’s leg just below the knee, Todd leans back, applying pressure to both the knee and the back with a single-leg Boston Crab! “It’s the beginning of the end,” crows Riley. “Todd has Wildchild right where he wants him; he’ll probably get a submission right here!” Wildchild’s eyes are wide with pain as Royal cranks back fiercely on the half-crab. Referee Long drops to a knee, asking Wildchild if he wants to give up, and the Bahama Bomber vehemently refuses as Megan bounces back and forth taunting him outside the ring. LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* The Tropical Tumbler pushes up against the canvas with his hands as he fights desperately to escape the half-crab. “Come on, kid,” mumbles Comet. “You can do it, I know you can!” “No way,” laughs Riley. “Wildchild’s a flier, not a wrestler! Even if he manages to get out of this move, which he won’t, what’s he going to do then? His knee has got to be shredded wheat by now!” “Don’t count Wildchild out yet,” admonishes Comet. “He’s surprised many a superstar here in the SWF who’s made the mistake of underestimating him!” “Oh please,” scoffs Riley. “He’s not going to be able to fly around that ring, and that effectively takes away ninety-nine percent of his offense! He’s not going to be able to get Todd up for the Wild Ride, and he’s not going to be able to jump high enough to hit the Falling Star Press, so how’s he going to win?” Even though it places even more pressure on his back, Wildchild pushes up against the canvas in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure on his knee. The New Orleans fans cheer him on as he tries to hand-walk towards the edge of the ring: LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* “You’re almost there, Wildchild,” shouts Comet encouragingly. “Only two more feet!” The cheers of the crowd become exponentially louder, and Todd finds himself fighting both their energy and Wildchild, as the Cruiserweight Champion continues to force him backwards towards the ropes. He yells out behind him to his Toddess as he notices the ropes rapidly approaching. “Yes,” cries Comet. “You’re right there! Just reach out and grab the rope!” Straining for all he’s worth, Wildchild lurches out towards the edge of the ring to grab onto the bottom rope and sweet relief, but just as his fingertips are almost on it, Megan Skye leaps onto the ring apron and grabs onto the bottom rope, pulling it away from the ring with all the strength that she has, preventing Wildchild from being able to reach it. Now, longer able to maintain his precarious balance, Wildchild pitches forward, and the Messiah capitalizes immediately on the sudden change in pressure, pulling the Tropical Tumbler back towards the middle of the ring! The crowd lets out a collective gasp, apparently deflated by Wildchild’s failed escape attempt. “What did I tell you,” exclaims Riley, as Eddy Long runs over to the edge of the ring to admonish Megan for her interference. “It’s Todd’s Will that Wildchild lose the title tonight!” As the referee’s attention is focused on the Toddess, Wildchild pushes against the mat in a final, desperate attempt to free himself, and this time the crowd erupts as he succeeds in wriggling out of the half-crab and getting back to an upright position. He bounces around on his left foot as Todd maintains control of his right, and then suddenly springs into action, leaping off the mat and swinging his left leg towards Royal’s head to deliver an enzugiri, a maneuver that the Messiah instantly recognizes and easily ducks to evade. SMACK! … But the Human Hurricane explodes back off the mat the second his leg comes into contact, whipping his leg at the head of the challenger from the opposite direction, and this time finding his target! Nineteen thousand fans leap to their feet as both men fall to the canvas, and Eddy Long turns his attention back towards the ring just in time to find both men laid out. “Big time maneuver by the Cruiserweight Champion,” sighs Comet. “But does he have enough left to pull out a win?” Wildchild drags himself over to the corner and uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet as Todd Royal scrambles to his feet and rushes towards the corner to nail the Champion with a running knee lift, but Wildchild manages to step out of the way at the last second, as Todd crashes into the turnbuckle pad! WHAM! As Todd staggers out of the corner, Wildchild sneaks behind him and pulls himself onto the middle turnbuckle, leaping off and grabbing Royal by the head as he flips forward, slamming him face-first into the canvas with a flipping neck snap! “Whiplash,” shouts Comet, as both men roll over onto their backs motionless. “Whiplash from the second turnbuckle!” “This can’t be happening,” groans Riley. “Riley has to win; it’s written in the Book of Todd!” Megan slams her fists against the ring apron out of frustration, and the fans begin to chant again as Long administers a ten count: ONE! TWO! “Wildchild’s taken a tremendous amount of punishment to the knee,” says Comet, “but Todd Royal hasn’t gotten through this match unscathed; the next person to hit a big move will likely win the match!” FOUR! FIVE! LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* LET’S GO WILDCHILD, LET’S GO! *CLAP, CLAP* EIGHT! NINE! Both Todd and Wildchild manage to roll onto their knees as Eddy Long reaches his nine-count, and begin to exchange punches as they fight their way back to their feet: BAP! BAM! BAP! BAM! BAP! BAM! BAP! BAP! BAP! Wildchild gets the better of the exchange and grabs Royal by the wrist, whipping him towards the corner… WHAM! … But the Messiah spins around to reverse the whip attempt and wraps his arm around Wildchild’s head as he pulls the Champion towards him, lacing their legs together as he falls backwards, slamming Wildchild into the canvas with a Russian Leg Sweep! “Beautiful Russian Leg Sweep,” applauds Riley, as Todd rolls onto his knees. “What do you have to say now, Comet?” “I have to admit,” concedes Comet, “that was a very alert maneuver by the challenger to… And here we go! He just gave the sign for the Wrath of Todd!” “Hallelujah,” exclaims Riley, as Todd bends down to pick up the Champion’s leg. “This is it; if he locks this, you’re looking at the new Cruiserweight Champion!” Todd spins around, twisting Wildchild’s leg around his own, and then bends down to pick up the Champion’s other leg to wrap him up in his patented Figure Four… … But the Bahama Bomber reaches up and grabs the Messiah by the head, pulling him towards the mat and into an inside cradle! “Small Package,” shouts Comet. “He’s got him!” The crowd explodes into cheers as they see Royal’s shoulders pinned to the mat, and begin chanting out the pinfall: ONE! TWO! THREE! But, unfortunately for Wildchild, Eddy Long hasn’t even counted to one, for the second he traps Todd’s shoulders against the mat, Megan leaps onto the ring apron to divert the official’s attention. The crowd’s cheers quickly turn into violent boos as the Toddess allows her man to continue on in the match! “Damn that jezebel,” growls Comet. “Wildchild had the match won! If not for her interference, this match would be over!” “Well, you know what they say,” answers Riley with mock sweetness, “if ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ were candy and nuts, we would all have a Merry Christmas!” “What,” roars Comet. “Who the hell says that?” “Don’t you have any religion,” admonishes Riley. “It’s in chapter eleven, verse thirty-one of the Book of Todd!” Wildchild rolls over onto his knees and hobbles over to the edge of the ring, lunging towards Megan, but the Toddess drops back down to the arena floor, safely out of reach. As Wildchild glares out of the ring at Megan, the Messiah sneaks up behind him and hooks the inside of his leg, pulling him backwards towards the canvas into a rollup! ONE! TWO! THREE— NO! “By Zeus,” pants Comet. “I thought that Royal was going to steal the title there!” “Steal, nothing,” replies Riley. “That belt is rightfully his, don’t you understand? It’s the will of Todd, dammit!” Todd beats Wildchild to his feet and rushes towards him, his head lowered to deliver a spear… WHAM! … But the Bahama Bomber leaps straight into the air, extending his leg as Royal’s head passes underneath him, and lowers it onto the back of his neck, driving him face-first into the canvas! “Cutter,” exclaims Comet. “Caribbean Cutter! Todd never saw it coming!” Wildchild rolls the Messiah onto his back and hooks the leg as Long drops down to deliver the three count: ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! Nineteen thousand strong erupt as “Let’s Get Dirty” begins to pump through the speakers once more! Wildchild flops over onto his back, panting like a dog as Eddy Long raises his hand in victory. Funyon rises from his seat at ringside, delivering the Cruiserweight Title to the edge of the ring as he lifts the microphone to his lips. “Here is your winner,” he says, “and STIIIIIL SWF Cruiserweight Champion… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” “What did I tell you, Robert,” laughs Comet. “You can NEVER count out this young superstar! Don’t EVER underestimate the heart of a champion!” “Todd Dammit,” roars Riley. “I was so sure! I read it in the Book of Todd!” “It may very well be Todd’s Will to become the Cruiserweight Champion,” mocks Comet. “But not on this night! Wildchild delivers another gutsy performance as he retains the Cruiserweight Championship! Stick around, folks! We’ve still got more exciting SWF action to come!” Wildchild rolls onto his knees, clutching the Cruiserweight Championship close to his chest… As we: FADE OUT Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 26, 2004 (edited) "Welcome back to Ess Dubya Eff...Lockdown!!!" Cyclone Comet's booms in greeting as we are indeed back in New Orleans... ...where thousand of screaming 'Nawleans' natives begin to fill the arena with as much noise as possible. Meanwhile, rather than pan around the sea of unwashed humanity, the camera is focused on the ring, where around the entrance side of the ring and above the top a surreal contraption, possibly designed by a five year old mental patient, has been erected around it. A bag hangs from the ceiling by a long metal wire in one corner of the ring...there's pipes, a treadmill, a skateboard lying on the floor...MR BUKKAKE~!~! on the treadmill showing all the charisma of a frozen haddock. "...if you're wondering what the heck is surrounding the ring, all will be explained in moments..." Cyclone assures us. "Cyclone, what the heck is this?" Riley asks, holding up a crumpled piece of paper. "Wha...oh, that's my explanation." replies Comet. "See, around the ring is this...well...crude contraption. And this paper holds the details of the contraption..." "It looks like a five year old drew it. Look...it's drawn in crayon." says Riley, holding it up to the camera, revealing this... "You did a good job on that Bobbo." sneers Comet. "Ah shut up. Just get on with explaining this sham." "Well...this 'sham' is our next match. 'The Hardcore Queen' Annie Onita and Landon 'La Cucaracha' Maddix will step into this ring...but, in this match, there will be no pinfalls. No submissions. No DQ's. It's not first blood, or last man standing. Instead, to win this match you have to set off this contraption, causing your opponent to be trapped inside that cage hanging above the ring. Like Mouse Trap..." "That game sucked." snaps Riley. "And so does this match!" "DON'T CHU WANNA BE MEEEEE!!!" Suddenly Riley and Cyclone are cut by the roaring sound of Chris Jericho's voice...as the arena quickly fills with darkness, all except the four spotlights from the entrance way, and Landon's entrance video rolling on the SmartTron. The Unnamed's youngest member eventually bursts through the curtains, with his valet Megan Skye bringing up the (very plump) rear. With a quick stop and thrust out of the arms, Landon begins to stride down the ramp, not wasting any more time on the New Orleans crowd than he has to. "Ladies and gentlemen," Funyon's voice bursts into life. "...the following one on one contest will have no disqualifications, and can only be won by initiating the contrapation surrounding the ring and trapping the opponent in the cage. Introducing first...representing the Unnamed, and accompanied to the ring by Megan Skye. Weighing two hundred ten pounds...this is LAAANDOOON 'LA CUCARACHA' MAAADDIIIX!!!" Maddix manouvers his way around the pipes in front of the ring apron, and leaps up before holding his hand out as ever to help the lovely Megan to climb the tall height of the apron. He then holds the ropes open for Skye, before entering quickly after and glancing nervously up at the cage. "Well, do you think Landon knows how this thing works?" Comet questions. "Do YOU know how it works?" "No, but I'm not in the match." "But you've got a diagram..." "It was drawn by a seventh year old!" "And his oppo..." "Woah woah, hooold up!" Maddix shouts at Funyon, snatching the microphone from out of the SWF's premiere (and only) ring announcer. The crowd boo from the moment noise leaves Landon's lips, and continue on as he stands looking out at one section of them. "I've got something to say...so take yourself and your $10 suit and stand over in that corner. Oh, and Funyon...smile...you're on T.V. Now...Annie." The crowd pop for Annie's name. "Annie, Annie, Annie. Oh how I admire you. You've fought adversity, you've fought sexism...you've retired and un-retired yourself more times than Terry Funk. No doubt you're one hardcore momma. An abassador for females everywhere. You know, I'm new around here so I don't know VERY much about you. But I've spoken to the boys in the back, and you've certainly got respect. I've heard people liken you to those great women rolemodels, who stand up and kick ass like no others. Buffy...Xena...Margeret Thatcher...Andy Capp's wife." Some of the crowd laugh, but while their moods are lightening, Landon's suddenly begins to darken. "But me? Nah...I don't see you as some female heroine. I don't see you as an ambassador for women. I see you more...as a loaf of bread." "Huh?" questions Cyclone. "What the heck is that supposed to mean?" "Annie...you're much like a loaf of bread. At first, you were fresh, new...everybody liked you. But Annie...there's one thing about bread. The longer it's around, it becomes stale...and before you know it, it's toast. Annie...you too are stale. And you too are about to become toast. I'm going to slam you in the toaster, and burn your ass to a crisp! So bring your feminist, overall wearing, shaven headed, man hating, Doc Martens wearing lesbian ass out here...so I can shove it in a cage...like the animal that you are..." Right on cue, "Risky Gamble" by Megumi Hayashibara hits, cutting Landon off and eliciting an uproar of cheers around the arena. As Annie's figure appears on the SmarkTron, suit clad and in the James Bond esque stance. The camera spins around to her front... "BOOOOOM!!!" ...and pyro erupts on the stage, bringing the crowd to their feet, and Ann Onita onto the stage. No introduction needed...Annie paces down the ring as her sister Allison follows out. Quickly Annie sidesteps the pipes, and rolls into the ring... ...and the fight is on, as Landon jumps her with stomps as soon as Annie manages to roll in! *DING DING!* Landon continues to drive the furious stomps down onto Annie's prone frame, not allowing the Hardcore Queen to even make her feet. "IT - CHI - BAN IT- CHI - BAN!!!" The pro-Annie chants ring out through the arena, as Maddix relents on the stomps, turning out to the crowd and furiously yelling at them to shut up. Slowly Ichiban pulls herself up on the ropes, as Landon walks back over and hits a sharp kick to the ribs. Another connects seconds later...but Annie seems to be shrugging off the effects, and getting to her feet regardless of the punishment. In desperation Maddix swings with a right hand...but Annie manages to block it, and drive her own fist into Landon's gut! "RAAAAAHHH!!!" Annie follows up with a couple more rights to the ribs, getting to her feet into the process as the crowd are being driven into a frenzy! Rocked back, Landon does the first thing that comes into his mind and jams his finger into the Hardcore Queen's eye, the callous move not setting well with the crowd. "What a cheap shot!" snarls Cyclone. "T'was not gentlemanly conduct." "T'was?" Riley snaps. "This isn't the 1920's Comet. Kindly shut thy mouth!" With a grab of the wrist Landon prepares to whip Ann into the ropes, but gets a fist to the jaw for his troubles. Quickly Annie ducks under Maddix's arm as a counter, and pulls La Cucaracha forwards into her outstretched knee, and quickly up onto her shoulders. Frantically Landon thrusts his body around and escapes off the suited shoulders, and running off to the ropes. Annie turns smartly, launching herself into the air and catching the charging Maddix in the jaw with a picture perfect Dropkiss! Scurrying from the ring, Landon has a look of shock etched on his face, as Annie stands triumphantly in the ring soaking up the applause directed towards her. "Annie has got Landon on the rock at the moment...it's almost like she's one step ahead of the rookie at every turn!" The frustrated Landon is attended to by Megan, as in the ring Annie is not resting on her laurels...climbing the ropes in an attempt to start the ball rolling...literally. "Annie's going for the ball sack, whi...oh." Comet stops, realising what he's just said... "There's a first time for everything I guess." Reaching up for the bag of balls, Annie almost loses her balance as the bag is excruciatingly just out of reach. Meanwhile Landon has suddenly caught glimpse of Annie's position, and quickly scurries back into the ring...only for Megan to halt him by grabbing his boot, and roll something into the ring for him. Over on the turnbuckles Annie is trying to grab the bag, but can't seem to be able to...as meanwhile, Landon begins to stagger over, clutching the something Megan rolled in to him against his chest tightly. Making a snap decision, the Queen Of Hardcore abandons the bag, deciding to dive past it and aim a double axehandle at Maddix. La Cucaracha is waiting though... ...sidestepping Annie, and catching her in the gut with a singapore cane! Annie doubles over from the pain, as Maddix quickly raises the cane high above his head... CRAAACK!!! ...and brings it down HARD across Annie's back! "Things are getting hardcore right now! And this is right up Annie's street." comments Riley. "Pity she's lying flat on her face." Landon turns to the crowd, holding his hands to the side in a mocking gesture as the crowd boo him...with AUTHORITAAA!!! Trying to grit her teeth through the pain Annie hauls herself up again, catching Maddix's eye and causing him to wield the cane again. However, the now alert Annie is already one step ahead, firing a vicious kick to the gut. An equally decapacitating kick to the sternum follows, with the force enough to cause Landon to drop the cane. Ms. Onita gratefully scoops the wooden weapon from the mat, greeting it like an old friend with a smile that seems to say..."you're dead Landon." "RAAAAAHHH!!!" The crowd erupt again, as Maddix's eyes burst wide open in pure, unadulterated fear. Dropping to his knees Landon looks to beg off, but Annie decides not to allow Landon his break...instead firing another kick, again connecting across the sternum. With all the wind knocked out of him, Landon's head slumps forward...almost inviting Annie on... CRAAACK!!! "Singapore Cane to the back of the neck!!!" yells Comet. "Holy Ghost of Neptune...that may have broken young Citizen Maddix's neck!" The lifeless body of The Disciple slumps slowly forwards to the mat, as Annie raises the cane high into the air, as a trophy of war. The crowd respond with cheers and applause, as she clasps her other hand around the weapon... CRAAACK!!! ...driving it down across the back of Maddix's head for a second, skull shattering time. "Stop the pain!" whines Riley. "Somebody stop the pain." "Hardcore Rules Riley. And unfortunately for young Maddix, this is Annie's house!" Watching on in horror, Megan sees Annie raising the cane a third time, and covers her eyes... CRAAACK!!! ...as Annie ruthlessly continues her assault. The Disciple looks to be done for, Annie seeing the glazed over look in Maddix's eyes, and deciding to go back for the balls. She climbs up the turnbuckles, getting ever closer to the sack containing the balls...yes, we've already done that joke...and begins to reach outwards. Again, the bag has been placed just far enough way that reaching it is no easy task, meaning Onita is left desperately reaching forwards, while trying not to topple off the top rope. The time she takes on the top has given Maddix time to recover, and groggily begin to try regaining a vertical base...so, rather than struggle any longer, Annie hops down again and goes back towards her opponent. "Whoever placed that bag above the ring either made a miscalculation, or is having a grand old laugh here...because it's out of reach." "Whoever made this MATCH is probably having a 'grand old laugh' Cyclone." Allowing the young Maddix to get back to his feet, Annie again takes the cane in her hands and preares for Landon to turn around. Megan has scuttled across the ring to try and warn her charge of the impending danger, but can't get close to the ring because of a water filled pipe blocking her way, so Landon doesn't hear her. Oblivious, Maddix slowly begins to turn around, looking for Annie... SWOOOSSSHHH... The cane shot misses, as Landon ducks! The momentum pulls Annie around in a pirouette, and as she reaches the 360 degrees she recieves a quick boot to the gut from Landon. Locking on a front headscissors, the Disciple hooks both of his arms under Annie's body and raises her up the air for a powerbomb, which Onita begins to fight with forceful right hands to the top of Landon's head. The effects are swift, causing Landon to stagger about and eventually fall backwards...but that causes Annie to fall throat first across the top rope!!! "OH!" Cyclone exclaims. "Annie got stungunned across the top rope! A break for Maddix here." The Disciple is first to his feet, looking up at the ball bag and down at Annie quickly...before turning to Megan, and shouting for her to do something. She can hardly hear over the rampantly booing crowd, so Landon has to repeat himself before The Toddess finally udnerstands him. Quickly she scuttles herself around the ring to the only un-blocked part of the ring apron, bends down and begins to rummage under the ring. Meanwhile Maddix walks over to Annie and drives the fla of his boot repeatedly across the chest and neck area...until Megan slides in... ...A LADDER!!! "Oh...MY!!!" yells Riley. "Well, we all know that Citizeness Onita can take heavy amounts of punishment. But, not too many people can take the force a metal ladder can provide and keep fighting." "Are you stupid Cyclone?" snaps Riley. "He doesn't want the ladder to hit Annie with. He wants it to get the balls." "Well, if you are indeed right Bobbo, then that is smart strategy." Picking the metal implement up from the mat, Landon hurriedly sets it up near the corner, indeed looking to go after the balls. Placing his foot on the first step, the other soon follows as La Cucaracha begins to scurry up the ladder and towards the bag...but Annie is up behind him. He doesn't know it however, busy trying to reach inside of the bag and retrieve a ball. Quick as she possibly can, Annie grabs the singapore cane... CRAAACK! CRAAACK! CRAAACK! Three hard shots connect to the kidney area of The Disciple, stopping him in his tracks. With Landon now suitably hurt, Onita fires a quick jab to the ribs for good measure, before moving around the side of the ladder, and beginning to climb up on the otherside! The crowd rise to their feet in anticipation, as Annie soon reaches Landon's level of the ladder. Just as she does, Maddix swings and connects with a weakened right hand...Annie retaliating in kind. Again a fist connects with Annie's jaw, again the Hardcore Queen swinging back with one of her own. Both athletes are left hanging precariously by one foot, the punches having taken their toll. "This is a very...very dangerous situation here Bobbo." "Indeed it is Comet. If Landon can just shove Annie in the chest, she'll be crashing through those pipes on the floor!" First to swing this time is Maddix, but he's cut off by a quicker jab by Annie, almost sending him flying backwards off the ladder. He somehow keeps his footing though, before grabbing a handful of Annie's hair! The fiesty Japanese vixen starts to try and claw at Landon's face to escape, as he tries to tug her black hair out from the roots. Suddenly Onita is within fingernail's reach of Landon's eyes, so The Disciple quickly pushes her to the side... CRRRAAASSSHHH!!! ...Annie flying off the ladder, and landing beside it on the mat, in a crumpled mess!!! "OOOHHHHHH!!!" The crowd gasp in shock at the fall from Onita, as Maddix now has clear run towards the bag. However, it seems something has come over him...as rather than go straight for the bag, he is now looking down on Annie's prone body. With a couple more steps, Landon moves up the next two rungs so that he has one foot on either side of the top of the ladder, sitting across the top as all around him the crowd are suddenly on their feet again. "Oh...no. He's not going to do this is he Comet?" "It certainly looks like he's considering it!" "Don't do it Landon! It's not worth the risk!" Very precariously Landon begins to stand upright, trying to block out the height that he sees beneath him and steady himself. The crowd are on the edge of their seats...or off them, and up on their feet. Annie isn't moving a muscle, as Landon's 'cockiness control' kicks in...with a wag of the finger and shake of the head, Landon turns around slowly, so he's facing away from Annie. "Oh, thank Todd!" Riley gasps in relief. "I really thought he was going to do it..." "Bobbo...he's not going for the bag..." Indeed, Landon isn't...instead, his arms are outstretched in the air. A slight wobble of the ladder sends a murmur of excitement through the New Orleans crowd, but Landon keeps his footing...and suddenly, falls back... ...WITH A MOONSAULT OFF THE LADDER!!! "HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!!!" "Good Godd...I mean Good Todd...I mean...OH MY GOD!!!" Riley stutters in shock. "LANDON MADDIX WITH A MOONSAULT OFF THE LADDER!!!" The crowd are on their feet, cheering wildly in their disbelief at what they have just seen. Both Annie and Landon lay on the mat clutching at their ribs in immense pain, as Megan Skye rolls into the ring and crawls across to check on Landon's condition. Allison meanwhile looks on with worry etched all over her face, as Annie is hurting too. Nick Soapdish rolls into the ring and begins to order Megan out of the ring, before checking on the two combatants himself, both of whom and hurtin’ for certain’. “Can you believe that Bobby Riley? Can you believe that picture perfect moonsault from off the top of the ladder?” “Un…freaking…believable Cyclone!” Riley, still in shock, just about manages to reply. “This crowd nearly blew the damn roof o…good god Bobby, they’re both getting up!” Slowly, Landon is beginning to stir…as Annie too is conscious, but not able to get back up. Despite the weakened condition of his body, the determined Maddix manages to drag his limp frame over towards the ladder, and place his hands upon the lower rungs of the metal implement. With all the power he can muster, Maddix hauls himself onto his jelly-like legs, and starts the climb up the ladder… …but suddenly stops, as out of the corner of his eye he sees Annie Onita shrugging referee Soapdish away, and trying to get back to her feet. Unable to believe that Annie’s still fighting, The Disciple stops dead like a doomed woman in a horror movie…unable to hide his complete shock. Dropping down from ladder he stumbles over towards Annie…and gets a right hand to the gut! “RAAAAAHHH!!!” The crowd explode into elation as they see their Hardcore Queen fighting back. Another stiff right connects to the gut, but before an imminent third can hit it’s target, Maddix drives his knee forwards and catches Onita HARD in the gut. As Annie doubles over, Landon quickly flings her arm over his shoulder, hooking a hold of her suit pants and popping his hips in a sudden explosion of offense, taking Annie over with him, and drilling her with an Exploder Suplex! “Somehow these two Citizens…Todd Royal’s rookie Disciple, and the veteran Queen Of Hardcore…somehow, these two are up and fighting.” “But they’re both weary Cyclone. You can see it from the body language. They’re both nearly out on their feet.” A rather bored looking Mr. Bukkake watches on from his stationary treadmill, waiting for his chance to shine… …as in the ring, Landon has Annie down on the mat. Knowing a submission will not win him the match, Landon decides instead to leap into the air, and with a full 360 degree twist land an extravagant legdrop. Annie holds the throat, as Maddix rolls away from her fallen body and clambers back up…holding his hands out again, which brings a fresh wave of jeers and boos his way. “How can these ungrateful slobs boo a man like Landon Maddix, Cyclone? It shocks me that these people have so much dis-respect!” “Well…he’s shown them no respect. Why should these great Citizens be the only ones with any respect?” “Good point. Looking at their clothing, they obviously have no self respect…no wonder they have no respect for Landon?” “That’s not what I meant Bobbo.” Again Annie decides to go on guts rather than brains, and haul herself back up. Whilst she’s doing so however, Landon has called for something else…this time, a chair is delivered to him by Waitress Skye. Picking up the chair, a sick smile emerges on The Disciple’s face, seeing the un-guarded Annie on her last legs. Raising the chair in the air, Landon walks forward…and usually, Annie would fight back. However, her guard is down, allowing Landon to swing down with the chair… SSSMAAACK!!! …it connects…BUT ANNIE IS STILL UP!!! “WOW!” Cyclone exclaims, as the crowd is ROARING it’s collective heads off. “Annie didn’t go down!” “My god…she’s a cyborg! She’s not human Comet. I swear, she’s not human!” As Annie stands tall in front of him, Landon’s look of shock has returned. Again he grabs a hold of the chair and brings it up above his head… SSSMAAACK!!! …and down across Annie’s… …BUT SHE’S STILL UP!!! “RAAAAAHHH!!!” By now, Landon is suddenly wondering what the heck it’s going to take to put Annie down. Two chair shots, and despite the slightly glazed over look in Ichiban’s eyes, she’s still standing. With no other alternative, Landon raises the chair again, and with all the force he can find in his body, he slams the chair downwards… SSSMAAAAACCCKKK!!! …with an ungodly amount of force… …and Annie is FINALLY down! “Annie’s down…but it took THREE vile chair shots to do it!” yells Comet. “But the main thing is she’s down. Now Landon just needs to put the boots to her!” “You really are an uncaring individual aren’t you?” “Hey…controversy pays the bills buddy.” Celebrating this accomplishment as if he’s just one the World Title, Maddix throws the chair over his head and shouts out in delight, as Annie is finally left laying on the mat. But…not for long, as the Queen of Hardcore is already planning her next comeback. With an air of frustration emanating from his body, Maddix yells out “Now you’re gonna see it!” towards the crowd, before helping Annie up on her last steps. Two shrift, sharp knee drives are smashed forwards into Annie’s midriff, before Landon hits a European uppercut to back Onita to the ropes. Hurriedly Landon grabs onto Annie’s left wrist and shoots her off to the ropes, backing off the ropes himself. Both Landon and Annie seem set for a head on collision, before Landon swings his arm out at the last second, with a I MAY BE SMALL, I MAY BE WEAK, BUT I JUST TOOK YOUR HEAD OFF YOU PSYCHOTIC LESBIAN FREAK, NOW LET’S GET THIS BALL ROLLING LARIATOOOOOOOOOOO~! “BOOOOO!!!” “HA HA!!! Lariato by Maddix! Lariato by Maddix!” Riley squeals like a schoolgirl. With Annie down, Maddix now scurries over to the ladder, beginning his slow climb as above him hangs the bag of balls. With every rung he advances to Landon takes a glance down at Annie to check on her position…but, she only begins to start moving as Landon reaches the summit of the ladder, and begins to reach into the bag. After a second or so of rummaging around, Landon pulls upwards from out of the bag… …clutching a bowling ball! “Oh yeah!” Riley shouts, for no particular reason. Landon rapidly descends from down the ladder, and shoves the metal object out of the way to the mat. Now clutching a bowling ball, Landon places it across the top of the pipe… ..but Annie’s up behind him from nowhere, spinning him around…and nailing a superkick! The bowling ball goes flying, narrowly missing Landon’s toe as it slams into the mat. Annie now has possession of the ladder however, folding it up quickly…and throwing it forward, causing it to SMACK into Landon’s face! He crumbles down in the corner, as meanwhile Annie grabs the ladder, throwing it out of the way…and stopping? “IT – CHI – BAN! “IT – CHI – BAN! “IT – CHI – BAN!” The crowd ring out with their chants, as Annie pulls the bowling ball from the mat. However, she has other plans than to set off the cage. She, instead backs up across the ring…as Landon is spread eagled. Annie knows what’s coming, the crowd knows what’s coming, the despairing Megan knows what’s coming as does the eager for genital destruction Allison…even Landon knows, but he’s out of it… …Annie rolls the ball forward… INTO LANDON’S GROIN!!! “OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!!” “Ooooh. That is every man’s worst nightmare!” winces Riley “Even yours?” “Even mi…HEY, shut up you spandex wearing freak!” “I could very well say the same thing to you.” With Landon’s nether regions officially crushed, Annie now has to set off the cage. She knows it, as she hurriedly picks the ball up…taking the time to sneer into the watering eyes of Maddix…before taking the ball, and dropping it down the pipe. “The contraption is set off. Here we go!” The ball rolls down the pipe, rattling it’s way across slowly onto the more level part, as Bukkake stands and waits eagerly. This is his chance to shine! The ball rolls on…and on…before clipping the on button, causing the treadmill to snap into life. “Bukkake is off! Man, look at him go!” “Yeah I’ve heard stories about him being very ‘quick’.” “I…err…don’t particularly want to know about that area of Citizen Bukkake’s private life.” “Citizen Bukkake? How can you say that with a straight face?” As the treadmill begins to pick up speed, Bukkake is already sweating… …back in the ring,. Annie is pulling Landon into the centre of the ring and positioning him underneath the cage. Quickly hitting a boot, Annie locks on the front headscissors…and drops Landon down with the Daybreak Pedigree, which is surely all she wrote! …but Bukkake is still running. He thinks this is his moment in the spotlight obviously, not wanting to losing his footing and take his skateboard ride. Allison watches on impatiently as Bukkake is now smiling! So, taking matter into her own hands, Allison walks over to the jogging Bukkake. He blows her a kiss, so she does what she knows is best…slaps the taste out of Bukkake’s mouth!!! Bukkake stumbles back, falling off the treadmill and landing on the skateboard…showing off his l33t sk8ter sk11lls, as he rocks forward…and turns on the fan! The crowd seem to be very excited about this low budget sequence, the fan blowing a toy boat across the water pipe, which goes under the ring. Back in the ring, Annie watching all this intently, not seeing Landon getting up behind her! Landon grabs Annie in a waistlock, as the boat goes under the ring…and now, it’s a race against time. Annie fires elbow after elbow into the jaw of Landon, rocking him back each time, but each time getting locked back into the waistlock. Eventually Annie gets herself free, and fires some right hands… …until Landon grabs her top!!! The boat comes back out from under the ring, as the fight goes on underneath the cage’s landing point…Landon trying to tear Annie’s top of, which is getting the males in the audience quite flustered. Meanwhile, the boat is about to drop… …and it does, pulling the weight up… …causing the cage to lower… …MADDIX BREAKS AWAY… …AND THE CAGE LOWERS… …DOWN ACROSS ANNIE!!! “DAMN IT!” Cyclone yells, as the bell is rung swiftly. “He did it…he tried pulling Annie’s damn top off, and that’s what distracted her.” “Who cares! Landon wins…” “Yeah, well…if you can call it that.” “I’ll call it what I want.” Annie, now realizing she’s trapped in the cage, curses her luck as Landon glares at her through the cage bars with a gleeful look on his face. “Here is your winner…LAAANDOOON ‘LA CUCARACHA’…MAAADDIIIX!!!” “Damn it…Landon wins. And we’ve got to go to a break while all this gets cleared up…but…we’ll be right back.” The scene fades, as Landon stands just out of Annie’s reach…the smug look still etched on his face, as we go to commercial… Edited February 26, 2004 by Thoth Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 26, 2004 *BOOM!* IT’S MAIN EVENT TIME~ The rabid, topless fans in the New Orleans Arena EXPLODE as SWF Lockdown returns from its final commercial break! After an amazing night of action so far, the twenty thousand plus Louisianans are PUMPED for the final match of the evening! “Welcome back to SWF Lockdown, citizens!” greets a cheerful Comet, “we’ve had SUCH an exciting night so far, I don’t know how we’ll top it, but we WILL with our main event!” “PUH – LEEEEZE!” groans Riley, “Two old school guys, one’s a beast and one’s a hick, tying up for the Intercontinental Television Championship. Someone, get me some caffeine!” Comet offers Bobbo his Pepsi Max™, but realizes what his partner is saying, and retracts the offer. “Bobbo, what on earth do you mean? Citizen Matthews, the ICTV Champion, has nearly abandoned his old, plodding, boring style, and adapted exciting new moves! Even Coy West, the challenger can make for an exciting experience! While he IS sometimes retro in his style, he can certainly get the job done.” “Well, we’ll see, Comet. Hey, you know what? I hope I eat my words later. But I sincerely doubt that I will.” “Ladies and gentlemen,” interjects Funyon, “the following contest is our MAIN EVENT, scheduled for one fall, and it is for the S – W – F INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAAAAAAAMPIONSHIP! Introducing first, the challenger!” With that, Sara Evans’ “Perfect” echoes through the New Orleans Arena, and the crowd bursts into cheers! Baby every little piece of the puzzle doesn't always fit perfectly, love can be rought around the edges and tathered down the seams, Honey if it's good enough for you it's good enough for me Oh you’re good enough for me,Yeah you’re good enough for me, Oh you’re good enough for me! Coy energetically emerges from backstage, mullet flowing freely in the breeze as he jogs down the ramp towards the ring. He attempts to high-five the fans in the front row, but when they smell him, they back away from the vehicle. Nonplussed, West reaches the ringside area and slides head first into the ring. “In the ring, from The S.S. General Lee, Junior, weighing in at 240 pounds, he is the COYOOOOOOOOOTE, COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY WEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSTTT!” Coy raises his arms into the air, and the crowd roars their approval of the loveable redneck. He takes a spot in the corner to await the start of the match. “And his opponent…” Metallica’s “Some Kind of Monster” kicks in, and the crowd goes CRAZY as the lights go out and a single spotlight shines on the curtain! Finally, as the lyrics kick in, Charlie Matthews emerges, ICTV belt firmly strapped around his waist as he begins walking down the ramp. “From Kansas City, Missouri, weighing in at 301 pounds…this is the S – W – F INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPION, this is CHAAAAAAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTHEWSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!” Matthews continues his march to the ring, taking his time climbing up the ring steps and stepping between the ropes. Once in the ring, he hands the belt to referee Nick Soapdish. Soapdish holds the belt up for all the crowd to see, then shows it to Coy, who chuckles and nods, and then to Grappler, who confidently nods. Finally, Nick hands the belt to the timekeeper and signals for the match to begin! *DING DING DING!* Without any hesitation, Matthews and West advance towards the center of the ring, and at the same time, they lunge forward, intertwining their arms in a collar-elbow tie-up! Surprisingly, after a brief struggle, Coy is able to twist Grappler’s left arm into a wristlock! Though initially caught off guard, Charlie is quite easily able to duck under the Coyote’s arm and twist his arm around, executing his own wristlock to break the one on him. With the strength advantage, Grappler is able to keep this wristlock on, and he pushes against Coy, bringing him all the way into the corner. Soapdish asks for a clean break, and gets one immediately. “In this feeling out process,” explains Comet, “both men are trying to get a sense of what the other is all about. Usually, the challenger, Coy, is able to gain an advantage on his opponent via his retro style, but that may not work here; Citizen Matthews himself utilizes a retro style!” “That’s why I think Matthews has this one in the bag, Comet,” replies Riley, “I mean, the whole psychological shift of Coy’s moveset usually works, but it’s USELESS against Grappler. West better have a whole new game plan, but seeing how he’s dressed, I severely doubt it.” Matthews backs out of the corner and allows West to get out himself. As soon as he does, though, Charlie lunges forward, looking to execute another tie-up…but Coy ducks! As Charlie turns around, Coy lights up the champion’s chest with hard knife edge chops! *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” The chops reel Matthews, and as he leans against the nearby ropes for support, the Coyote grabs him by the arm and whips him towards the opposite ropes, but Charlie spins around, reversing the momentum and sending West over! As he rebounds, Grappler bends over, and when Coy reaches him, he stands up, flipping the challenger UP UP UP into the air, almost eight feet, before he comes CRASHING down with a back body drop! The Coyote HOWLS~ at the moon in pain, but Grappler quickly drops down onto his knees, wrapping his right arm around West’s head, squeezing tight with a side headlock! “And Matthews sticks with what made him in the first place,” points out Comet, “first using his strength, and then his technical savvy to his advantage against Wil E. Coyote.” “Hey, that was a good analogy, Comet!” Riley compliments, “Grappler can be like the Roadrunner in this match, except…without all the speed. Or the brevity. Or the comedic value.” Matthews keeps the pressure on, compressing Coy’s head millimeter by millimeter. However, West isn’t that weak, and he starts to sit up, struggling to break free! Once his upper body is off the mat, the Coyote turns and gets to his knees. Matthews gets up as well, trying to maintain the leverage advantage, but this only allows Coy to get all the way up to his feet! With the crowd cheering loudly, West shoots an elbow back into Grappler’s gut… a second one… and a THIRD that finally breaks the headlock! With Charlie stunned, Coy unleashes with more knife edge chops! *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOO!” *SMACK!* “WOOOOOOOO!” As Grappler stumbles back, Coy leaps into the air, shooting his legs out and catching Matthews in the chest with a dropkick! The force of the blow pushes Charlie back into the corner, where he remains, catching his breath. Using this to his advantage, West charges forward, crashing into Matthews with a body splash! As Coy turns, he wraps his arm around Charlie’s neck, grabbing a headlock. From there, he runs forward, bringing Grappler with him as he leaps up and sits down, driving Charlie’s face into the mat with a bulldog headlock! As Matthews turns onto his back, Coy quickly hooks his far leg and Nick Soapdish drops down to count the pin! ”ONE!” “T – NO!” “I just HATE when people do that!” blasts Riley, “do they actually think some simple offense is going to put a guy down for a three count? In a TITLE match, no less? Against a guy like GRAPPLER?!” “Bobbo, it’s for a few reasons,” Comet explains, for seemingly the thousandth time, “first, to gain a psychological advantage on the opponent. Citizen West may need this, since his retro throw-off won’t work. Second, it slowly wears the pinned wrestler down, as he has to exert energy to kick out.” “Don’t sound so high and mighty, Comet,” Riley replies, “I…obviously wasn’t asking for me, I was asking for the thousands of idiots watching at home and wondering the same thing.” Matthews easily gets his shoulder off the canvas, but as soon as he does, Coyote does exactly what Grappler did to him, wrapping his arm around his head with a tight side headlock! Coy attempts to keep the pressure on as Charlie did, but being weaker than the champion doesn’t help matters. Grappler quickly begins to fight out, going through the same motion that Coy did. As he reaches his knees, though, Matthews simply pops up and ducks underneath Coy’s arm, hoisting him up into the air diagonally, going for a backdrop suplex…but West flips backwards, escaping the move and landing behind Grappler, on his feet! Reacting before the champion even realizes what happened, West reaches forward and locks his arms around Matthews’ waist, holding him tight with a waistlock! West arches back and lifts with all of his might, but Grappler simply holds his ground, refusing to take the German Suplex! After more struggling by the Coyote, Charlie decides that the only way to escape is to simply kick his legs out, using his weight advantage to fall against Coy and push him down, all the way to the mat! *SQUASH!* “OOOOOOOOOH!” Matthews simply remains on top of West, and Nick Soapdish quickly drops down to count this rather unorthodox pin! “ONE!” “TWO!” KICKOUT! Coy gets his shoulder up, which is a difficult task considering the three hundred pounds on top of him. “Quite a…different way to shift the momentum,” says Comet, “Citizen Matthews just let the, uh, motion of the ocean carry him down and on top of Coy, almost resulting in the win!” “Well, Comet, the bigger guy will always shift the momentum his way,” cites Riley, “I learned it in chemistry. See, when you work with the reaction quotient, Q, and the equilibrium constant, K, whichever is bigger has the chemical reaction shift in its favor.” Comet simply stares at his partner. “What, you thought I just looked up my teacher’s skirt the whole class?” Riley, asks. “Quite the contrary, Bobbo.” Grappler gets up off of his opponent, walking into the nearest corner to give Coy an opportunity to get to his feet. However, as soon as West gets on all fours, Matthews charges out of the corner, dropping down and driving the tip of his elbow right into the Coyote’s neck! The challenger hits the mat, but Charlie brings him right back up to his feet forcefully, and hammers him with three hard punches to the head. With Coy reeling, Matthews grabs him by the arm and whips him towards the ropes. As West rebounds, Charlie backs against the nearby ropes and charges at Coy himself. Just before the two meet in the center of the ring, the champion leaps into the air, shooting his knee out and catching West right in the nose with a high knee strike! West drops to the mat, and Charlie covers the challenger again, as Soapdish counts! “ONE!” “TWO!” KICKOUT AGAIN! Looking to pressure his opponent some more, Matthews hooks Coy’s leg this time, bringing it back with an even tighter pin as Soapdish counts again! “ONE!” “TWO!” ANOTHER SHOULDER UP! Still nonplussed (at least on the outside), Grappler calmly brings Coyote back up to his feet. Grabbing his arm, Charlie whips West into the ropes once again. As Coy rebounds, the champion swings his arm around for a BIG clothesline…but Coy ducks! West runs to the opposite ropes, and as Matthews turns around, he sees Coy come back and shoot his legs downward, nailing him right in the knees with a basement dropkick! The force drops Matthews down, face first onto the mat! “FINALLY!” cries Riley, “I mean, I know he’s a stupid inbred hick and everything, but as a wrestler, you think he’d know better.” “What on EARTH are you talking about, Bobbo?” asks Comet, “I mean, besides making the awful Southern joke, what is the point of your tirade?” “Let me finish, you clown. Look; Grappler is taller and bigger than Coy…obviously he’s advantaged, so the smart move would be to take out his legs. I mean, I can’t believe this Coyote or whatever didn’t figure that out sooner!” “Indeed, Bobbo, going for the legs could very well be the key to a new Intercontinental Television Champion, right here tonight in New Orleans!” With Matthews down, Coy hurries to his legs and places his foot against the back of Charlie’s left knee, before lifting the leg up…and stomping down on it! West removes his foot from the knee, but holds onto Matthews’ boot, lifting it up and slamming the knee back down against the canvas again! Struggling to get a moment free, Matthews scurries over to the nearest ropes, grabbing on to them, preventing Coy from doing any further damage to his knee. As West takes a step back, Charlie uses the ropes to pull himself back up to his feet. As soon as he gets to his feet, though, the Coyote charges and leaps into the air, swinging his arm around and connecting with a leaping lariat on the champion… and Coy’s momentum carries both men over the top rope, and all the way down to the floor! “Things could get very ugly in a moment, Bobbo,” cautions Comet, “Citizen West has begun targeting that knee of the ICTV Champion, and on the outside of the ring, anything could happen!” “Well, anything would result in a disqualification, Comet,” shoots back Riley, “I’m sure Coy knows that…his fortune in this company depends on it. Wait, I’m sure he DOESN’T know that. He is a redneck, after all.” Both competitors bring themselves up to their respective feet at the same time, the New Orleans crowd throwing random beads and jambalaya at them as they recover. Charlie tries to get the advantage by catching Coy with a hard punch to the head, and he grabs West by the arm. Meanwhile, in the ring, Nick Soapdish begins the obligatory ten count. “ONE!” “TWO!” With Coyote in his grasp, Matthews whips him towards the ring steps…but some how, some way, West spins around and reverses the momentum… “THREE!” *CRAAAAAASH!* …and Matthews collides with the ring steps, KNEES FIRST! “FOUR!” The momentum carries Grappler OVER the steps, and he falls onto the floor on the other side! “FIVE!” With the damage done, Coy West slides back into the ring, as Matthews remains on the outside. “SIX!” “SEVEN!” “This probably isn’t the best idea,” notes Comet, “because if Citizen West lets Matthews be counted out, he won’t be the ICTV Champion!” However, Matthews begins rising to his feet as if on cue, using the ring steps to support himself. “EIGHT!” He begins walking towards the ring, carefully favoring his knees. “NINE!” At the last second, Grappler rolls back into the ring, just making the ten count. However, as he rolls under the ropes, Coy stays right on him, stomping down on his left knee! Matthews tries to fight it, but Coy grabs a hold of the left leg and drags him across the mat, to the center of the ring! “Coy is just being RELENTLESS and AGGRESSIVE!” Comet cries, “and it certainly is helping him!” “You’re right about that, Comet,” Riley agrees, “Coy couldn’t catch Grappler off guard with his wrestling style, so he’s…catching him off guard with his wrestling style. Well, you know; the aggressive wrestling style, I mean.” With Matthews flat on his back (but his shoulders up), Coy keeps a hold on the left leg and spins around it, wrenching it tight with a spinning toe hold! Grappler cries out in pain as his leg is excruciatingly twisted, contorted, and pressured. “LET’S – GO – GRAPPLER!” “LET’S – GO – GRAPPLER!” The New Orleans fans strongly get behind the ICTV Champion, trying to rally him to fight out of the spinning toe hold. However, the challenger won’t let Matthews off that easily, as he keeps the hold in. Grappler denies Soapdish’s usual questioning of if he wants to quit, so Coy looks to add more damage. He rotates around Matthews’ leg again, but as he bends down to apply more pressure, Grappler uses his last ounce of energy to sit up and reach up, grabbing Coy by the head and pulling him down, right into a small package! Soapdish quickly drops down and begins counting, with the entire New Orleans Arena counting along! “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Coy gets his shoulder off the canvas! “Holy catfish, Bobbo, how close were we to the match ending right then and there?!” questions Comet, “It’s moments like that that demand your absolute attention; they’re blink – and – you – miss – it moments, and thousands of people turning away for a split three seconds could have missed Matthews retaining the title!” A beat, and then, “Comet, you’re a very, very, very weird person. Yes, that was a close fall, but your description is just…” “Vivid? Lively? Vociferous?” “Umm, sure.” Matthews slowly limps to his feet, but Coy hurries and beats the champion there. He runs forward blindly at Grappler, and Charlie uses this to his advantage, as he ducks under West’s arm and looks to sweep his leg out with an STO…but Coyote sees this coming and elbows Charlie in the back of the head thrice to break it! As Grappler stumbles forward, Coy digs his fingernails into Grappler’s back and rakes down, causing blood to GUSH out of his back with a bloody, vicious back rake! Okay, so it wasn’t that bad. But it was agonizing. Matthews holds his back in sheer pain, so West remains behind him and ducks under his arm, before summoning all of his strength to lift him up off the mat, into the air, dropping him down on his back with a big, ring rocking suplex! Coy stays on his knees and looks to go for the pin…but instead he moves to Matthews’ leg and drives an elbow down onto it, causing more pain to the injured joint! Now he covers Matthews, and Soapdish drops down to count! “ONE!” “TWO!” KICKOUT! “Citizen Matthews gets the shoulder up again, but this may be for the last time!” notes Comet, “as much as I love our ICTV Champion, I don’t know how much more he can withstand!” “Coy’s having an awesome showing out here tonight,” agrees Riley, “but I don’t know if he can match up with the brute strength of Grappler.” With Matthews slowly rising to his feet, Coy gets up quickly and gets an idea, scaling the nearest turnbuckle, climbing to the top rope. The champion gets to his feet, and as he turns around, towards West… the Coyote LEAPS off, sailing through the air with a cross body block. As he does, Grappler lowers his shoulders ever so slightly, and he CATCHES COY ON HIS SHOULDERS! Now holding the challenger in a fireman’s carry position, Charlie turns and begins running, looking to DRIVE Coy’s head into the mat with the Time Machine Death Valley Driver…but no! As Charlie runs, Coy is able to kick his legs around the back of Matthews’ head, spin around, and fall, trapping Grappler’s head in a front facelock as he falls backwards, executing a HUGE spinning DDT! “UNBELIEVABLE!” cries Comet, “Citizen West just countered the patented Matthews Time Machine with a DDT!” “I’m actually quite surprised!” notes Riley, “I didn’t expect Coy West to make such a run for the Title here tonight! He very believably could win right here, right now! And, hey, I mean right now, he’s going for another pin!” Soapdish drops to count the pin, the fans counting along! “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREEEEEEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Matthews gets his shoulder up, and a large portion of the crowd cheers their lungs out as Grappler stays in this match! However, Coy feels that, as the song says, the end is near, and brings Charlie back up to his feet. Coyote once again traps Grappler in a front facelock, and he walks to the nearest ropes. “AAAAAAAAAAA – OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!” West howls at the moon, and the fans do the same as he grabs Charlie by the tights, lifting him up into the air for the slingshot suplex! He gets the three hundred pound Matthews off of his feet, but before he can do anything else, Charlie uses his weight to his advantage, and drops back down onto his feet! The two men are still entangled in the front facelock, and Matthews simply knees Coy in the midsection to stun him! Charlie holds onto the front facelock and hoists COY up into the air, and the fans BURST into cheers as they see what’s coming next! “Holy sweet mother of Jasmine!” shouts Comet, “Citizen Matthews just escaped the slingshot suplex, and it may be time for the Wake Up Call!” “What an IDIOT!” screams Riley, “instead of sticking with the leg, like Coy should have, he goes for his finishing move that he couldn’t even LIFT Grappler up for!” Matthews rotates a half turn, holding West up for another five seconds… before he snaps around, falling back and SLAMMING COY DOWN WITH THE JACKHAMMER SUPLEX HE CALLS THE WAKE UP CALL! The New Orleans crowd erupts louder than they would for Trish Stratus earning her Mardi Gras beads as Matthews executes the move, and stays on top of Coy for the pin that Nick Soapdish gracefully counts!” “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREEEEEEEEEE!” *DING DING DING* “Some Kind of Monster” blasts through the speakers again, and the crowd EXPLODES! Matthews rolls off of West, exhausted in victory. Although he’s favoring his knee, Grappler is ecstatic to be on the roll that he’s currently on. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” booms Funyon, “the winner of this contest, and STIIIIIIL S – W – F INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPION, CHAAAAAAAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MAAAAAAAAAAATTHEWSSSSSSS!!!!” Soapdish returns with the ICTV Title belt, and hands it to Matthews, who is now seated on the mat. Slowly, he brings himself up to his feet, stepping lightly on his left leg. He hoists the belt up high, much to the delight of the crowd. “What a match!” Comet says, “I truly believed Citizen West could’ve taken the match…his work on Matthews’ leg was SUPREME! As you can see, Matthews is still favoring that leg, but I certainly hope it heals up by From the Fire!” “That’s right, Comet,” replies Riley, “we’re about ten days away from Va’aiga and Charlie Matthews squaring off in a two straight falls match. This match proved something to me, but Matthews better bring EVERYTHING if he even HOPES to try and wrestle the title away from the Maori Badass.” “Well, citizens, that’s all for us at SWF Lockdown, as the FIRE continues to burn to our March pay-per-view extravaganza! For Bobbo Riley, I’m Cyclone Comet, GOOD NIGHT!” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ © 2004 Noble Gas Productions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Kaertos 0 Report post Posted February 26, 2004 (edited) So there we are. Not the best show we've ever put on, but certainly not the worst. Card will be up this afternoon. Any match requests would still be welcome. Oh, and if Thoth knows how to get he image into the "Mouse-Trap" "Match" then please do. I couldn't get it to work. Edited February 26, 2004 by Grand Slam Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
