SJL Metal - Wednesday, April 17th

April 18, 2002

OHMGODZ, IT'S BEINGZ METAL!!1!

Hit-The-Floor-And-You're-Gone Battle Royal - Send to Edwin MacPhisto

Cutthroat vs. Tod deKindes vs. Vanguard vs. Jack The Ripper vs. Frost

- All five men start in the ring at the same time, then it's an elimination match for young and old. Once you exit the ring and both feet hit the floor, you are eliminated, and you have to return to the back. Excellent. And hey, look, a summary of the rules just appeared right here so no one will have any more questions! Yay!

The ONLY WAY someone is eliminated is if BOTH THEIR FEET TOUCH THE FLOOR OUTSIDE THE RING. If they tap out, IT DOESN'T MATTER. If they get knocked out, IT DOESN'T MATTER UNLESS SOMEONE THROWS THEM OUT OF THE RING AND BOTH THEIR FEET TOUCH THE GROUND.

Understand it? If you don't, you're a tool.

- Word Limit: 4000

TV Title Match - Send to Suicide King

T-Bone © vs. "TNT" Taylor Nicholas Thompson

- T-Bone faces his next challenger - TNT. Will he be able to overcome the Danny Williams inspired man?

- Word Limit: 4500

Singles Match - Send to TheBostonStrangler

Randy Turner vs. Poisyn

- The guy with the weird name comes back after being honourably pinned by Johnny Generic. Can the relative newbie upset him?

- Word Limit: 3500

Street Fight - Send to TheBostonStrangler

Ced Ordonez vs. Z

- This is a street fight. Yes, a fight in a street. These two men will roam the streets around the arena until one no shower pins the other no shower. No disqualifacations. It's time for Z to gain a little of retribution - street style.

- Word Limit: 4000

Singles Match - Send to Thoth

Insane Luchador vs. Shawn Brody

- Both men come off Crimson losses. At least one should be able to get back on the ball.

- Word Limit: 4000

Non Title Match - Send to HVilleThugg

Tom Flesher vs. "Deathwish" Danny Williams

- This match has happened at least once before. I think. Now, a month down the track, it happens again. Who will walk out the victor this time?

- Word Limit: 5000

Singles Match - Send to Thoth

Stryke vs. Mafia

- Mafia grabbed what many would consider an upset win on Crimson against Helmsley. Can he do it twice against the battered Stryke? Or will Stryke destroy everything in his path until he gets back at Erek Taylor?

- Word Limit: 5000

MAIN EVENT

World Title Match - Send to Suicide King

Erek Taylor © vs. Xero

- Erek managed to pull off a staggering victory on Crimson, and there is no chance in hell that he is fully recovered from that. Xero on the other hand, is fresh off a weeks rest. Was it a smart move on Taylor's behalf to agree to Xero's challenge so soon? If Xero loses, he has to dance while saying "I'm not worthy" in a dress. Ouch.

- Word Limit: 6000

April 18, 2002

Axis: “We waste no time in getting straight to the action in our first Metal match-up as the ring is already loaded with men.”

Edwin: “Yea, loaded with men to King’s pleasure.”

King: “I’m going to load a shot gun and aim it at you to my pleasure.”

Axis: “Let’s go to Funyon for introductions.”

Funyon stands in the middle of the ring with a microphone while the combatants for the encounter warm up waiting for the ring bell.

Funyon: “Our next encounter is a five man battle royale. Wrestlers are eliminated from the match by being tossed out of the ring and landing with both feet on the floor below. All eliminated wrestlers must head straight for the back and the last man standing is our winner. Now, introducing from Muenchen, Germany and weighing in at 227lbs., Tod DeeeeeeeeeeeKinnnnndeeeeees!”

The fans cheer as DeKindes hops down from his perch on one of the top turnbuckles.

Axis: “DeKindes lost Saturday night on Crimson, but holds a clever count out victory over the huge Dark Reaper from this show last week.”

King: “Luring a monster like Frost or a freak like Jack the Ripper to the outside is not going to help him here, he’s going to have to fight tonight.”

Funyon: “From Parts Unknown and weighing in at 219lbs., the mysterious Vaaaaaaaaaanguaaaaaaaaaard!”

Vanguard slips out of his trench coat and holds it out to his side. His pet owl, Nightwatch, swoops down from the rafters, clenches the coat in his talons and then drifts back up toward the ceiling as the fans oo and ah in disbelief.

Axis: “That trained owl of Vanguard’s is a wonder.”

King: “It’s a menace, it’s probably infested with rabies and ticks and Lord know what else.”

Edwin: “That doesn’t keep you from coming to ringside.”

Funyon: “Weighing 244lbs. and residing in Greenwich, Connecticut, Cutthrooooooooooooooooooooooat!”

Cutthroat spins around the ring with a thumbs up high in the air to acknowledge the madly cheering audience.

Axis: “Interestingly, Vanguard scored his first win in his debut on Crimson this past week versus Cutthroat, in what some might term a minor upset over the more seasoned SJL veteran.”

Funyon: “From Reykjavik, Iceland at a weight of 296 lbs., the Iceman from Iceland, Frooooooooooooooost!”

Frost raises a solitary fist to the fans who boo with vehemence.

Axis: “The rest of these men need to be careful…”

King: (interrupting) “He killed Kojack on Crimson, killed him dead with an Early Winter on a steel chair and your next T-Bone. T.V. title, no T.V. title he’s gunning for your head, you steak sauce covered BASTARD!”

Edwin: “The steak sauce Frost used to taunt T-Bone by pouring it on Kojack and spewing it up in the air was some sort of cheap generic junk that ruined the ring canvas. We even used Oxi-Clean on it and couldn’t get it off. Like the nacho cart, that’s coming out of your paycheck too, Frost. Oxi-Clean for heavens’ sake.” (Edwin extends his hands in a pleading gesture)

Funyon: “And finally from London, England at 178 lbs., Jack…the Riiiiipperrrrrrrrr!”

Ripper takes off his coat and top hat and hands them to an attendant at ringside over the ropes with a grimace locked on his face.

Axis: “A wrestler with a storied history, Jack scored a victory over old nemesis The Reaper in his return match, in what may very well be the last chapter in their tale.”

Funyon exits through the second rope and hops to the ring floor as the bell chimes to start the match.

DING DING DING

Before any of the wrestlers can react, Frost turns to his right and clotheslines Vanguard over the top rope and he crumbles to the apron. Frost spins around back to his left and charges another clothesline in to knock Jack over the ropes and to the apron. Cutthroat and DeKindes charge from the opposite side of the ring. Frost lifts up a big boot that Cutthroat plows into and he is launched over the top rope. Cutthroat holds onto the rope and hangs in the air before twisting his body around to land on the apron. DeKindes throws three punches into Frost’s chest, but he doesn’t feel them in his pumped state. Frost plants his right leg and pivots around on it with his left arm outstretched, fist clenched. The spinning back fist makes perfect contact with DeKindes’ jaw and he goes flying out of the ring to land on the apron next to Cutthroat. Cutthroat puts a hand on Tod to keep him from rolling to the floor.

Axis: “It could have been all over at the bell, folks. Frost is intent on cleaning house fast and furious.”

King: “What I’d tell you? If there is anything worse than a 300 lb. monster, it’s a pissed off 300 lb. monster.”

Frost flexes his massive arms in the ring and screams a howl at the other wrestlers. They all slowly reenter the ring away from Frost and huddle in the far corner.

Axis: “It seems like the other grapplers have decided that they need to join forces to take Frost out.”

King: “He’s not me by a long stretch, but Frost is enough to take out these turkeys, except maybe Jack the Ripper.”

Edwin: “Yeah, I’ll bet you a dollar Frost doesn’t win.”

King: “You’re on.”

The wrestlers break as Frost steels himself for whatever they might throw his way. Jack, behind the others, yells, “go” and the grapplers lunge to charge, but the Ripper extends his arms and clothesline Vanguard and DeKindes down before they can move, leaving a unbeknownst Cutthroat to go it alone. Frost rushes to meet him and clamps Cutthroat in a bearhug while Ripper stomps both Tod and Vanguard down on the canvas.

Axis: “The Ripper is always one to make the most of any situation and proves once again that he is not a man to be trusted.”

Edwin: “Oh, that is dirty pool on Jack’s part and dirty lawn darts on Frost’s.”

Cutthroat attempts to punch out of the bearhug, but every time he raises a fist, Frost clamps down harder and Cutthroat writhes in pain. Jack drops a series of knees to DeKindes’ neck as Vanguard struggles to his feet from the sneak attack. Ripper sees him out of the corner of his eye and spins around with his arm out for a discus lariat. Vanguard catches it full in the chest and flips over the top rope, but he holds on and, with impressive upper body strength for his size, skins the cat back in.

Axis: “Another near elimination on Vanguard as Frost continues to wrench on the back of Cutthroat, I don’t think he’s even concerned about eliminating him or anyone else. He’s just looking to dish out as much punishment as possible.”

King: “Hello, McFly, that’s what I’ve been saying. Working with Edwin so long as turned you brain to tapioca.”

Edwin: (sighing and slumping down in his chair) “Hmm…tapioca.”

Jack picks Tod up by his head and throws him hard into the corner, missing Vanguard flipping back into the ring. He throws two chops into DeKindes’ chest, before Vanguard spins him around by the shoulder and shoots him a steely look. Ripper throws a punch, but Vanguard ducks and delivers a spear hard to his gut, sending him back into the corner and squishing DeKindes.

Axis: “Vanguard with the freelancer to shock the Ripper.”

Edwin: “Freelancer? What kind does he do, because I could use a housepainter and a dog trainer.”

King: “And a brain surgeon.”

Vanguard grabs Jack by his wrist and whips him across the ring into Frost, still working on Cutthroat. Jack charges into the pair and causes Frost to drop Cutthroat, who lands on all fours in the ring. Frost stumbles backwards and Jack bounces off to the side and slumps down. Vanguard takes DeKindes by the wrist and whips him across the ring as well. DeKindes gains his bearings as he runs across the ring and leaps up and off of Cutthroat’s back into Frost, driving the back of his legs into the big man’s chest to knock him into the corner.

Axis: “An inadvertent Poetry in Motion.”

Edwin: “It was pretty, but it wasn’t that pretty.”

King: “He wasn’t commenting on the beauty of the move, numbnuts, that’s its name.”

Edwin: “What’s name?”

King: “You start that with me and I’ll beat you with a sack full of doorknobs.”

Vanguard places himself in the corner and sprints toward Cutthroat looking to attempt the same move. The Ripper grabs the dazed Cutthroat by his wrists on the mat and jerks him down just as Vanguard reaches him. With his elevated springboard gone, Vanguard trips over Cutthroat’s prone form, but recovers and does a barrel roll across the ring to the corner. Vanguard pops upright, leaps to the second turnbuckle and monkey flips Frost out of the corner and over his head with his built momentum.

Axis: “Vanguard just might have super powers after all, with that display.”

Edwin: “Vanguard powers activate, form of kicking your ass.”

Cutthroat and DeKindes climb to their feet, jump in the air and come crashing down on Frost’s wide back with a legdrop a piece. Ripper climbs to the top rope of the nearest corner, faces the crowd and jumps off, twisting his body backwards and over as he flies to moonsault onto Frost.

Axis: “The wrestler’s have finally joined forces against Frost.”

King: “Well, that lasted as long as Edwin in the sack.”

Vanguard and DeKindes pair off and trade punches in the corner. Ripper stands up from Frost’s body and he rolls off to the far side of the ring. Jack turns around into a dropkick from Cutthroat that sends him sprawling back into the near ropes and he falls on his BUTT unbalanced. Cutthroat runs to the far ropes, springs off and dives to the mat with a baseball slide to the fallen Ripper. Jack rolls to his right at the last moment and Cutthroat misses, leaving him to sail under the bottom rope and to the floor. Cutthroat lands on his feet, but is visibly frustrated as the referees come over and tell him that he has to leave.

Axis: “The crowd noise is deafening as the fans hate to see their favorite underdog eliminated so early.”

King: “He was eliminated when he was born.”

DeKindes has Vanguard pinned in the corner, but he ducks half of the man’s elbows and knees. Frost pulls himself to his feet by the ropes as the Ripper stands up and does a half circle run to the center of the ring. He then bolts into the corner to nail DeKindes in the back. Tod sense him coming and jukes to his left, leaving Jack to spear Vanguard in the stomach. The Ripper drops to the mat as Vanguard doubles over from the blow. Tod slips back in front of Vanguard and locks his arms under the wrestler’s elbows and hoists him up and over his head, falling back into the double underhook suplex.

Axis: “A great display of ring smarts and skill by the young Canadian.”

Edwin: “I thought he was German.”

King: “We covered this last week, you have the attention span of a chimp.”

(Edwin makes noises like a monkey and picks through King’s hair looking for ticks. King swats him away disgusted.)

Frost picks Vanguard up off of the mat by under his armpits and shoves him into the corner. DeKindes throws his legs back and leaps to his feet, only to meet a low blow from Jack still on his knees. DeKindes grabs his groin with a look of pain on his face and Jack grips Tod under his right arm and shoves him into the corner.

Axis: (for Edwin’s benefit) “A low blow on the Canadian born, relocated German citizen.”

Edwin: “He surely took a shot to the wienerschnitzal there.”

With uncanny timing, the heels whip the faces out of the corner and into each other in the center of the ring. Tod and Vanguard pull up just in time, link elbows and spin each other around. They let go, run a few steps and leap with splashes onto the men in the corner. Vanguard makes contact with the Ripper and he crumples in the corner. However, Frost drops to his knees and DeKindes overshoots him to take the top turnbuckle in the face. Frost jabs his meaty forearms up and into DeKindes’ midsection over his head and lifts him up and out of the ring. Tod splats on his back and the referees help him limp to the aisleway.

Axis: “Just like that DeKindes is gone and we’re down to three.”

Frost strides over to the opposite corner where Vanguard is doing a mounted punch count on The Ripper. Frost turns with his back to Vanguard and wraps his arms around Vanguard shoulders and hauls him out to the center of the ring in a crucifix position. Frost spins the helpless Vanguard around and around on his back for a full seven turns and then throws him off spinning over the ropes. However, Frost did not put quite enough power into the throw and Vanguard strikes the top rope and luckily bounces off the top rope back into the ring.

Axis: “The fates smile on Vanguard once more to keep him in this match, but now here comes the Ripper on Frost.”

Edwin: “Go Jack, toss him on his back.”

Axis: “It’s not like you to cheer for Jack the Ripper.”

Edwin: “I want that dollar.”

Axis: “What can you do with a dollar these days?”

Edwin: “As my friends Terry Bradshaw and ALF tell me, a dollar can do a lot…”

King: “So help me, if you go into that commercial spiel I will set you on fire and kick you down a flight of stairs.”

Frost and Jack the Ripper circle each other in the ring, while Vanguard recovers off to the side. Jack puts his hand up wanting a test of strength.

King: “I knew Ripper was crazy, but this makes him prime for the guys in the white coats to come get.”

Axis: “I’d have to agree with you for once King, Jack is giving up 7 inches and over a 100 pounds to Frost.”

Frost laughs out loud, but humors Jack by holding his own hand out. Frost moves in closer, towering over the much smaller man. The Ripper jumps up to lock fingers with Frost, but instead he does a leaping kick hard into Frost’s left knee and he bends down to clutch his leg.

Axis: “The Ripper has done his homework in knowing that Frost’s left knee took a beating on Saturday night against Kojack and should still be fairly weak.”

With Frost now down to his size, Jack wraps his arms around the Icelander’s head and tucks it firmly on his shoulder. Jack tugs the stumbling Frost over to the near corner and the Ripper runs up the turnbuckles to the top one and leaps off, turning in midair to land back in the ring and drive Frost’s chin hard into his shoulder.

Axis: “THE RIPPING! UNBELIEVABLE!”

King: “Normally, I’d be cheering for that, but I’m going to a strip club after this and need that dollar.”

Jack climbs to his feet, unsure of what to do with Frost now. Vanguard gains his feet on the other side of the ring, lines up Jack and charges with a full head of steam to drive a shoulder into his stomach. The Ripper folds in half as Vanguard drives him through the second rope and onto the floor.

Axis: “ANOTHER FREELANCER! VANGUARD TAKES OUT JACK THE RIPPER!”

Edwin: (putting his mouth right next to Axis’ ear) “MUST YOU YELL ALL THE TIME! I’M RIGHT HERE!”

Vanguard manages to grab onto the second rope to hang on and drop down to the apron. Jack tries to drive his way back into the ring, but the referees stand in front of him and drive the Ripper up the entrance ramp. Vanguard pulls himself up by the top rope on the apron as Frost lumber over to him. Frost hooks his left arm around his neck and his right hand firmly on Vanguard’s tights. He pulls the grappler up and to him over the ropes, bounces Vanguard’s body once on the top rope and slingshot suplexes him back into the ring.

Axis: “Frost could have easily pushed Vanguard off the apron, but pulls him back into the ring instead.”

King: “You know I never lost a battle royale while I was SWF champion.”

Edwin: “Were you ever in any?”

King: “I really think that’s beside the point.”

Frost lifts Vanguard up off the canvas by his hair with one hand and tucks him under his armpit.

Axis: “An Ice Pick looks to be coming up from the big man.”

King: “If he drives the poor sucker through the mat to the floor, does that count.” (King cackles evily)

Vanguard falls, nothing more than dead weight, to the canvas. Frost reaches down to pick the man back up. Vanguard rolls up into a ball on his back and cinches his legs around Frost’s neck and locks his ankles together. Frost attempts to stand back up straight, but Vanguard has all the leverage and ranas the big man over and to the mat. Vanguard flips through the move over to Frost’s chest and straddles him to start delivering punches.

Axis: “Vanguard was merely playing opossum and he is now in full control.”

King: “I still want to see him pick Frost up and toss him out of the ring.”

Edwin: “Who says anything about tossing, he can roll him out of the ring under the bottom rope. It might not be pretty, but it would get me your sweet, sweet dollar.”

Frost shakes off the punches, not feeling their effects and headbutts Vanguard square in the face. Vanguard falls back and off of Frost. Frost rises to his knees as Vanguard slumps down on his, rubbing his ringing skull. Frost wraps one of his huge paws around Vanguard’s neck, stands upright and then lifts Vanguard high in a choke slam and walks nonchalantly with him over to the ring ropes. Vanguard fidgets and fights, but can do nothing to escape Frost’s grasp. Frost lifts Vanguard up over the top and holds him in mid-air, his feet dangling over the ring floor.

Axis: “He’s holding Vanguard up there by one hand and one hand only, and I dare say it’s all over!”

King: “Pay up!”

(Edwin pulls a one-dollar bill out of his hip pocket and King greedily snatches it from his hand)

Frost lets go and Vanguard drops straight down to the floor losing the….

Axis: “Unbelievable! Vanguard has grabbed on to the top ring rope!”

Vanguard bends his knees back as far as he can to keep his feet from touching the floor as the ring rope strains downward due to the masked wrestler’s weight and momentum. The rope finally reaches its limit and springs back up. Vanguard rides the slingshot with maximum velocity and flies back into the ring with a clothesline to Frost’s chest. The surprised Frost staggers back as Vanguard falls over to the canvas. He pops up to his feet and grabs the unbalanced Frost around the neck with a reverse headlock and jumps up and over the top rope with him.

Axis: “A jumping DDT out of nowhere to send Frost to the floor!”

(Edwin snatches the bill back from King and blows him a raspberry.)

Vanguard releases his hold and flips over backwards to land on his feet as Frost tumbles to the floor with the crown of his skull striking the outside ring mats with a wet splat. His upper body hangs limp on the canvas. Frost’s heavy torso slumps to one side and his legs slide to the floor. Vanguard stands solemnly with his hands on his hips, waiting to be declared the winner. Frost is out cold. Referees Matthew Kivell and Anthony Michael Hall put their head together to confer, then walk over to Funyon to inform him of their decision.

Axis: “There seems to be some question on the outcome of this event. Let’s review the end.”

A slow motion replay shows Frost’s head hitting the floor first as Vanguard is just completing his flip over, feet hovering about an inch over the mats.

Edwin: (waving his dollar bill in the air) “See, Frost hit first, Frost hit first. (singing) money,money,money,mooooooooneeeeeeey! Feels so good, good God, jump back, kiss myself, Yow!” (Edwin pops to his feet and does a little shuffling dance)

King: “I’ll give you another buck if you shut up and stop that.”

Funyon: (from the ring floor) “The referees have concluded that Frost’s head did strike the outside floor BEFORE Vanguard landed on his feet…”

The crowd roars their approval.

Funyon: “…However, the rules clearly state that both FEET must touch the floor to be eliminated and therefore, Vanguard is eliminated and Frost is your winner!”

The crowd jeers loudly as Vanguard lowers his eyes and nods his head to his chest in silent defeat.

King: (snatching the dollar bill back from Edwin and waving it under his nose) “Yeah, baby, who’s the bitch now!”

Edwin: (sighing) “Well, it seems that you have graduated to being a one dollar ho, congratulations.”

Axis: “Frost scores the technical victory, but he might have also scored himself a concussion from the never say die Vanguard!”

Paramedics rush out to check on the still unconscious Frost. Vanguard solemnly strides to the back with Nightwatch down from the rafters and perched on his shoulder as Metal cuts to break.

April 18, 2002

***Camera cuts to backstage, showing a tired Tod deKindes sitting on an anvil case, emptying a water bottle on his head, still recuperating from his grueling Battle Royal match. Ben Hardy arrives in the picture, mic in hand.***

Ben: Tod deKindes, you've just gone through the five man battle royal, it was quite a contest, how do you feel?

Tod: --...

***He went to answer, but the camera slightly panned to the right, showing Taylor Nicholas Thompson walking by; clad in track pants and TNT t-shirt, warming up and doing some shadow boxing. He stops right next to Tod.***

TNT: Hey, Tod. Helluva match out there, good job.

Tod: ...Danke.

TNT: Lemme just say this to you, this camera here, this goof holding the microphone and everybody at home. If all goes well tonight, Tod...me and you we'll hook it up one more time, and it'll be for the TV title, I promise you that.

Tod: ...Good luck with that.

TNT: Thanks...Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta go get ready.

***He goes to walk off, but Tod holds him by the arm.***

Tod: Wait...(he stops and faces Tod once again)...I hope you remember my little message from last saturday...

TNT: Yeah...Don't sweat it, all right?

Tod: When can we expect an answer?

TNT: ...Soon. Don't worry, soon.

***Tod, not having once looked at TNT during the brief chat, lets go of his arm, allowing Taylor to walk off.***

Ben: ...Well, Tod, Taylor has a chance at the Television title. Do you think he could do it with or without the help of Danny Williams this time?

Tod: ...It's in his hands now.

***He threw the empty water bottle on the floor, got up from his seat and walked away from the shot.***

Ben: All right, well, things are heating up back here, let's send it back to you guys at ringside.

***

April 18, 2002

PROMO: You Know Who

The SmarkTron flickers to life for the thousands of fans watching in the Gund Arena, as the camera focuses on the back door of the arena. All of the sudden, the door swings opens, and Poisyn steps into the arena, a gym bag strapped over his shoulder. Dressed clad in ‘Operation Ivy’ T-shirt and blue jean shorts, he walks down the arena's hallway, refusing to meet eyes with anyone that he passes. He walks past several JL wrestlers, such as Z, who has a clip-board in hand and is talking to Tom Flesher about a "Super-Duper-Extra-Special Balanced Diet Plan", and Insane Luchador, who sits on a large metal box, just stairing down anyone that passes him. Soon Poisyn finally reaches his locker room, as he takes out his key and opens his locker room door, only for his smirk to fade to a deep frown. The camera only focuses on Poisyn, as only the voice of the woman can be heard.

"You...what are YOU doing here..." Poisyn says, his voice turning into a rage.

"I'm...I'm...just here to wish...you...luck," a woman's voice says, "I was in the area, to visit my sister, and I just wanted to tell you that I hope you pick up a win tonight against Randy Turner. I know that you--"

She's cut off when Poisyn just puts his hand up, as he shakes his head and looks down toward the ground, letting out a big sigh.

"I...don't want you here," Poisyn says.

"What?" The woman says.

"I...really...don't want you hear. Your only throwing me off my game plan," Poisyn says.

"I'm WHAT?!" The girl repeats, this time a small amount of rage can be detected in her voice.

"Listen. I thought I made this clear when I renewed my JL contract. I didn't think it would work out anymore. It's just...that...I've changed, and you were seriously against the change. You wanted me to get help, but I refused it. And...I can't take this, please...just go..." Poisyn says, looking totally at the ground and not up at the woman.

A sob is heard, as a woman rushes out of the locker room and past Poisyn so quickly that you cannot see her face, as her hands were over it too from the crying. Poisyn takes a gigantic sigh of sorrow as he throws his bag into his locker room, and looks down the hallway, as his frown turns into a look of disgust. He begins to walk toward a Ced Ordonez, who is talking on his cell phone. Poisyn stops behind Ordonez, who turns around meets eyes with him. Ordonez, dressed in wrestling gear already, frowns as well.

"Hey, I have to go," He says, "...And uh...yeah. I love you too."

He hangs up the cell phone, and immediately speaks.

"And what the hell do you want?!" Ced yells, as Poisyn is about to speak, but he is cut off, "No, no, I don't want to hear about that 'The One' bullshit, I want to know where the fuck you were for Crimson!"

Poisyn's voice becomes as threatening as Ceds, as he exclaims, "As far as Crimson goes, I missed my flight. Now listen, Ordonez. Someone who I wish hadn't came just appeared in my locker room. Now, you may call the stuff about the one 'bullshit', but it's my god damn search, and I don't really give a shit about what you think. Now, let me say that you...ARE NOT...the one. But, Ced...you know him."

Ced's face goes from a look of pure rage to confusion.

"Yes, it may sound strange, but you know him VERY well..." Poisyn says, "And deep down, you know who."

A long pause. Ced finally breaks the silence by saying, "I don't understand...who?"

A chuckle from Poisyn, "Well...you'll just have to wait and see."

Poisyn slowly walks away from Ced, as Metal fades into a commercial...

April 18, 2002

The camera scans the exterior of the Gund Arena in Cleveland, Ohio. The screen wipes to the inside of the arena where enthusiastic fans hold up signs that say various catchy sayings such as “Three Strykes, You’re Out!” The camera finally halts to a stop at the commentator’s booth that contains Axis, Edwin MacPhisto, and Suicide King, who is appropriately wearing a nametag labeled “Suicide King, Former SWF Champion.”

Axis: “Welcome back ladies and gentlemen for April 17th’s edition of SJL Metal! For those of you just tuning in, we’ve already witnessed a spectacular chain of events, one of them being a special five man battle royale!”

Edwin: “Yes but this next match is sure to blow the fans away Axis, it’s for the SJL television title! Tonight the champion T-Bone will defend his beloved title against his most vicious opponent yet, TNT! Yippy skippy I’m ecstatic for what is sure to be a faboo matchup!”

King: “Yes indeed! T-Bone may be the Television champion, but your career really isn’t complete until you’ve held the SWF World Championship Belt. Now, let us take a little census, who here has held that title?

King raises his hand eagerly as the other two stare at him with aggravated looks on their faces.

King: “Yep! That’s what I thought!”

Axis: “Ahem. As interesting as we commentators are, I’m sure the fans just want to start the match! We go down now to ring announcer Funyon.”

Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen! This contest is a one-on-one encounter and is scheduled for one fall! It is for the SJL TV Title! Count out and disqualification rules apply! Entering the ring area, accompanied by “Deathwish” Danny Williams, hailing from Anaheim, California, 267 pounds of pure, uninhibited madness! “TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson!”

The crowd erupts in cheers (and some boos) as AC/DC’s “TNT” blares from the speakers. As the introduction of the song begins, TNT very slowly saunters down the ramp with a noticeable lack of pyro. Deathwish slowly mirrors TNT’s movements bearing a slightly “out of it” expression on his face. Just as the song’s course ends and “Watch me explooooooooddddeee!!!!!” is heard by the audience, what seems like hundreds of white and silver pyro are triggered consecutively as Taylor becomes livelier and seemingly walks to the beat of the music. Taylor moves quickly as he poses on each ring post while Danny looms in the center of the ring admiring TNT. As his entrance comes to an end TNT, a little more serious that usual, meanders over to a nearby turnbuckle and sits down, gazing at the entranceway, awaiting the most important challenge of his SJL career, T-Bone. Meanwhile, Deathwish wishes him the best of luck and exits the ring, heading towards the announcer’s table. As he nears the table, Edwin screams and cowers under the table.

Axis: “What the hell does Danny think he’s doing?”

King: “Duh, it doesn’t take a former SWF champion to figure that one out. Obviously he’s come for my autograph.”

Deathwish arrives at the announcer table with an emotionless expression on his face. King smiles and outreaches his hand for a handshake, but Deathwish seems not to take notice and passes by him, grabs a headset off the table, putting it on.

King: “Look Axis, Deathwish has merely joined us at the commentator’s booth to share his insight on the following match.”

Deathwish (very seriously): “You speak the truth.”

Edwin: “Howdy Dan, my main man!”

Deathwish: “I haven’t come to jabber about pandas with a carnie. I have come to watch my student succeed.”

Axis: “You can’t just come barging…”

Deathwish: “Silence.”

Axis: “Fair enough. Ahem, back to Funyon.”

Funyon: “The second competitor in this bout, weighing in at 275 bounds, hailing from Sonoma, California, the steak sauce covered bastard! Teeeeeeeeeee Booooooooooooonnnnneeee!!!!!!!!!”

The lights dim.

Edwin: “I’m afraid of the dark!”

The first bell rings for AC/DC's "Hell's Bells." The Titanatron shows T-Bone hitting a Tiger Driver '91 on Kojack to win the TV Title, T-Bone accepting the title, and then T-Bone spitting out his A-1 Steak Sauce into the camera. The arena lights flash wildly, illuminating the A-1 steak sauce man as he comes out from the back with the crowd cheering wildly showing their approval. T-Bone struts down to the ring, as cocky as a rooster. He slowly enters the ring, and reaches into the pocket of his leather jacket. Inside the steak sauce covered bastard locates an A-1 Sauce container. He takes a swig as the crowd starts a thunderous T-Bone chant. T-Bone tosses the bottle to the audience, as an obese elderly woman catches it and takes a swig. T-Bone then jumps to apron, looking to the crowd. He spits the sauce out in a HHH-like manner, holds up his coveted belt, and climbs into the ring, where his challenger eagerly awaits a piece of steak.

Axis: “T-Bone looks pumped up, this is one match he can’t afford to lose!”

Edwin: “Say Axis, who are you going for in this matchup?”

Axis: “I can’t choose, usually I go for the one with an AC/DC theme song but tonight both of them have that quality.”

Deathwish: “TNT will win.”

Edwin: “And just how do you know that Mr. Williams?”

Deathwish: “T-Bone is no better than anyone else in this federation, he’s just a sports entertainer. T-Bone is the past. Taylor Nicholas Thompson is the present, and the future.”

Edwin: “Whoa man, that’s some powerful stuff. Are you a poet outside of the ring or something?”

Deathwish: “I read a lot of Poe in high school.”

Edwin: “Po? As in the red Telletubby?”

King: “You are the world’s biggest moron. I personally don’t like either of these guys, but since Deathwish is going for the explosive warrior, I’ll have to concur.”

Axis: “At any rate, this match is underway!”

***DING DING DING***

Both men immediately come revving out of their respectable corners. They lock up, with Taylor, the stronger of the two, gaining a slight advantage. He begins to power T-Bone into a corner, but T-Bone ducks out and floors TNT with a drop toehold! He clamps on to Taylor’s leg, inching up his body until he reaches his neck area and attempts a crippler crossface! Before he can even begin using its full potential however, Taylor bolts to the ropes, securing himself onto them. T-Bone breaks to the hold at the suggestion of referee Mathew Kivell, who issues a five count until T-Bone does so. Both men rear back into their corners, sizing eachother up. Lock up #2 is issued between the two, with Taylor quickly gaining the momentum needed to inch T-Bone into a half boston crab! T-Bone quickly reverses however, virtually doing a summersault under himself and ending up on the opposite side of Taylor!

Axis: “Neither man seems to be gaining the upper hand in the contest so far, both evenly matched.”

King: “What are you talking about? TNT’s been whooping T-Boner the whole match! This is as one sided as my match against Edwin!”

Edwin: “Hey! I resent that! I actually put up quite the offense in…”

King: “Uh huh. Listen Edwin, nobody cares, the Care Bears might care, but that’s it, go tell your stories to someone else.”

Edwin: “Ok King of Farts.”

King: “What did you call me?”

Deathwish: “Silence is golden, appreciate that.”

Edwin: “What the hell are you talking about Shel Silverstein?”

Axis (screaming): “Will you all please just shut the fuck up!?

The other commentators cower away from a fuming Axis. An awkward silence falls upon them all.

Axis (calmer): “Ahem, as I was saying, lockup #3 is in progress!”

Just as the angry Aussie stated, the men are again going head to head. T-Bone starts loosing momentum, so he opts to Irish whipping TNT! Taylor reverses however, and catches T-Bone on the way back with a Samoan Drop! He pounces on top of Boney with several elbows, and then makes the quick cover!

Ref: “One!”

Axis: “Way too early for a pinfall! What was Thompson thinking?”

Deathwish: “He was thinking intelligently! Why wrestle a whole match when you could simply end it in merely three minutes?”

King: “I agree!”

Deathwish: “Silence village idiot!”

King (murmuring): “Yeah why don’t you shut up yourself you technical fruit cake.”

Deathwish: “What was that?”

King: “Nothing.”

Edwin: “He said that you were a…”

King hops on top of the crazy carnie, silencing him in mid-sentence. The screen cuts back to the ring, where the pace has picked up! Both men unleash multitudes of punches on eachother, each wincing in pain with each hit they receive. Another Irish whip exchange is executed, but this time with Taylor on the receiving end as he is planted into the mat with a spinebuster! T-Bone quickly hooks the leg!

Ref: “One! Two!”

Taylor kicks out, seemingly recovered from the attack, both opponents kip up, and Taylor charges with a spear! T-Bone barely manages to dodge the maneuver, causing Taylor to go hurtling into the corner, destroying his right shoulder on the ring post! T-Bone approaches the pained Taylor, and executes several knife-edge chops in the corner causing the fans to recite “Whoooooooo!!!!!” with every smack on the chest. T-Bone Irish whips Taylor into the other corner and comes lumbering after him. TNT however, leaps off of the mat three quarters of the way there, lands on the second rope of the turnbuckle, and comes soaring back wards with his body outstretched, landing on T-Bone for the pin!

Axis: “What a reversal! TNT takes advantage of an Irish whip and comes right back at T-Bone with a flying body press, making the pin! Can he get a three count though?”

Kivell: “One! Two! Thr…”

Deathwish: “He had him!”

King: “The match is over!”

Edwin: “Not so fast! T-Bone manages to kick out in the knick of time!”

Deathwish: “His shoulder was on the mat!”

Axis: “Accept the truth!”

Deathwish: “TNT is the new Television champion!”

Edwin: “You’re in denial.”

King: “Taylor should be champ right now, this is Montreal all over again! You know, when I was champ, I remember I was screwed and lost the title.”

Axis: “King, you lost cleanly to Mark Stevens, accept it!”

King: “I’ll never accept it! I should still be champ right now!”

Edwin: “He’s just jealous that Stevens has held the title twice and he hasn’t.”

King: “You mention that again I’ll job you for life!”

Edwin: “I’ll job you for life. I’m a marker too, remember? The threat doesn’t work on me.”

King: “Fiddlesticks.”

Back in the ring, both men have risen to their feet, both men again unleash several blows on eachother, until T-Bone manages to out-brawl Taylor with a swift superkick to the chin!

Axis: “Excellent display of acrobatics by the usually unwieldy T-Bone!”

Deathwish: “Low blow!”

Edwin: “He kicked him in the face.”

Deathwish: “I saw it, you saw it, that was a low blow dammit! Disqualify that man!”

Despite Deathwish’s complaints, referee Mathew Kivell doesn’t seem to notice the low blow. But he certainly does notice T-Bone executing a fishermen buster on Taylor for the pin! He makes the count!

Ref: “One! Two!”

TNT elevates him arm off of the mat a fraction of an inch, signaling the kick out. T-Bone strikes the ring mat with his hand, telegraphing to the viewers that he is a little frustrated now. He picks Thompson up by the hair, and goes for a short clothesline, however, just as his thick and toned arm is about to knock Nicholas’ noggin, TNT ducks! A rear waist-lock is applied by TNT, and Taylor forms a bridge with a German suplex! T-Bone’s scull and neck are demolished onto the hard mat as the ref makes the count.

Kivell: “One! Two!”

Edwin: “Yet another kick out!”

Axis: “This match is going back and forth like a see-saw!”

Edwin: “Or a game of foosball!”

King: “What the hell are you talking about?”

Deathwish: “Indeed Taylor has put himself up against quite the athlete, but in the end, every opponent he faces will see TNT explode.”

Taylor peals Boner off of the mat, rears back, and sends both he and his opponent sprawling outside of the ring with a cactus clothesline! Both men struggle to collect themselves, rising to their feet.

Edwin: “The action spills outside of the ring!”

King: “Nice thinking by TNT! You know, my experiences as SWF Champion have thought me that winning by countout is like winning with your pants off, it’s just not as triumphant as the norm.”

Axis: “That’s right Suicide…wait, what did you just say?”

King: “Nevermind.”

Outside of the ring now, both men share an Irish whip exchange, with TNT ending up smashing into the guardrail, this renders him into an “out of it” state. He stumbles back towards the steak sauce covered bastard, and is caught with a vicious brainbuster right onto the mat!

Edwin: “Holy flying sausage rabbits! That brainbuster just snapped TNT’s neck!”

Axis: “Looks like T-Bone has finally found an opening, attempting to work Taylor’s neck until he submits!”

Deathwish: “He will not tap. He has never tapped.”

Edwin: “And that says something in his incredibly long four match career doesn’t it?”

King: “Eddie, don’t be a smart ass to Deathwish, that’s like wishing…for death. I guess.”

Edwin: “Okay Mr. Non-Current SWF ICTV champion.”

King: “Why you little!”

King jumps Edwin, putting him in a simple wristlock as (oddly enough) Edwin screams like a little schoolgirl and desperately taps out.

Axis: “Wow, King is beating the crap out of Edwin! I never thought I’d see THIS happen! It’s almost as if someone is writing all of this for an internet federation and is sucking up to King because he’s marking his match. (winks at camera) Nah, that couldn’t be it.”

Deathwish: “Enough of you pointless chattering! Pay attention to the match!”

Axis: “Yes sir.”

Meanwhile, during the commentators’ quarreling both men have found their way back into the ring. T-Bone, still with the advantage, sets TNT up for a crucifix powerbomb! He carries through with the devastating tactic, planting TNT’s neck into the mat and sitting down, holding TNT’s shoulders to the mat!

Axis: “Taylor goes plummeting down to the mat via sit-out crucifix powerbomb! Will that be enough?”

Deathwish: “Of course it won’t.”

Just as Williams foreshadowed, Thompson lifts his shoulder off of the mat at 2.9! T-Bone makes sure his conciseness doesn’t last long as he ferociously rips Taylor from the mat and puts him down again with an orange crusher! He hooks the leg…

Kivell: “One! Two! Thr…”

…but once again it’s not quite enough to keep Taylor down!

Edwin: “TNT just kicked out of that vertical suplex-into-powerbomb…thingy. What’s that called Axis?”

Axis: “An orange crusher.”

Edwin: “An orange crusher!”

T-Bone screams in distress, obviously annoyed by TNT’s stubborn will to win. He stands above the quivering heap of jello that is TNT and signals for the end. He positions Taylor for the SSTF, but just as he is about to hook it on Taylor darts to the ropes faster than lightning on steroids. Thompson has several cuts on his forehead, causing a little blood shed, but not enough to form a crimson mask. He lounges in the corner, dazed and confused. Suddenly, T-Bone runs at him with an impromptu Bronco Buster! He misses miserably, crotching himself on the ropes and giving a resounding yelp of testicular pain as the crowd sympathetically cringes. Taylor manages to drag himself off the mat, awaiting T-Bone to do the same. As little Boneroonie recovers from his self-induced low blow, Taylor quickly puts him back down with a Shamrock-like belly-to-belly suplex! Knowing he can’t earn the big W just yet, Taylor decides not to pin him but instead to lift him up and put him back down with a vicious dominator! T-Bone’s entire body makes a sickening sound as it shatters against the ring floor. Taylor pins the fallen T-Bone, only to discover that he has his foot under the nearby ropes. Taylor lets out an incoherent slur of curse words, obviously upset.

Deathwish: “He would have had the pin right there!”

Axis: “Maybe, but the fact remains that his foot was under the ropes.”

Edwin: “And that fact is as full-proof as the warranty for my Civic Honda.”

King: “My second cousin’s mailman’s ex-wife always used to tell me, ‘you can always judge a man by his car,’ and that explains why Eddie Mac’s sucks more than a Tijuana crack whore.”

Edwin: “Yeah, you would know how much they suck wouldn’t you Suicide?”

King: “Um, no! It’s just that I have a…friend…who told me.”

Edwin: “What’s your friend’s name?”

King: “Um, Giovanni.”

Edwin: “You just made that up.”

King: “I did not…”

Deathwish: “Do you insolent badgers do this every week? You are merely taking up time that could be used for a quality match you know!”

Axis: “There’s no point in trying to stop them. I gave up a week after King joined us here at the announcer’s table.”

Taylor again picks up the distraught T-Bone, nailing him with several head-butts, and finally introducing him to the mat once more with a DDT. But wait! As he plunders to the mat of peril, T-Bone desperately manages to grasp the ropes, sending Taylor down to the mat without his steak sauce covered foe! TNT kips up, shocked at this new found energy that T-Bone possesses, only to have his head shoved under T-Bone’s pelvis and have his head driven into the mat with a cradle piledriver! Thompson quickly yet dizzily stands, holding his head in pain. He notices T-Bone and charges but is caught with a rear headlock! T-Bone wrenches TNT’s skull as Taylor grimaces in pain!

Edwin: “Supercagifragilisticexpealidocious planning by T-Bone! He’s going to force Taylor into submission! But will he tap?”

Deathwish: “No.”

Axis: “What makes you so sure?”

Deathwish: “I told him not to.”

Edwin: “And he takes orders from you?”

Deathwish: “He respects me, and no one else. He doesn’t respect T-Bone, he doesn’t respect the SJL, he doesn’t even respect the safety of Mathew Kivell.”

King: “Who does?”

Back in the ring, TNT still remains in the hold. As Taylor’s vision becomes hazy, he falls to the mat dazed, like some sort of stoned guinea pig. Kivell raises his arm and lets it fall to the mat, as he signals to the crowd “one!” He repeats this a second time, but on strike three, TNT hits a homerun as he begins to awaken from his involuntary slumber. He struggles to his feet, and bounces off of the ring ropes, attempting to hurl T-Bone off of him. However, T-Bone continuously clutches onto TNT’s cranium, bulldogging him back down to the mat! He holds TNT in this position for a few minutes, pounding away on his head every once and a while. Taylor again struggles to his feet, and shoves T-Bone off of him, right into the turnbuckle! T-Bone hits the turnbuckle with a loud “thud” and is rolled up by Thompson!

Kivell: “One! Two! Thr…”

T-Bone gets both shoulders off of the mat just as Kivell’s hand was about to slam onto the mat queuing TNT’s win! TNT stands up, but receives a knee to the gut courtesy of T-Bone! T-Bone takes a swing at the dynamite man, but his offense is reversed into a double arm DDT! The crowd yelps with glee, awaiting TNT’s next move. Taylor bares a broad smile, points upward, and begins to scale the turnbuckle! As he reaches the pinnacle, he leaps off of the ring post, plummeting downward into the mat, his elbow pivoting itself into T-Bone’s throat!

Deathwish: “The end is near.”

Axis: “Shell shock! Shell shock! Can TNT capitalize with his patented Tiger Driver ’92 that he calls Dynamite?”

Taylor approaches T-Bone, but suddenly an idea seems to pop into his head, and once again he begins to ascend the turnbuckle!

Edwin: “What’s this? What the hell does TNT have up his sleeve now?”

King: “I don’t know, but I think that we all can assume that Taylor knows what he’s doing.”

Axis: “I don’t know about that King, he appears to be pretty hammered to me.”

TNT reaches the top rope, gives an echoing “KABOOM!” to the applauding crowd! And flips off of the turnbuckle…which leads to a one-on-one encounter between him and the mat.

Axis: “T-Bone manages to roll out of the way, causing TNT to whiff his moonsault of doom!”

King: “TNT must’ve done it on purpose for some reason or another, right Danny? Right?

King glares at Williams who is silent, with a worried expression cemented on his face. Both men on their feet now, meandering around the ring like a couple of drunken circus midgets. T-Bone regains consciousness first, and lifts TNT off of the ground…

Deathwish: “Oh no.”

King: “Don’t worry! He’ll reverse it somehow! Right?”

Edwin: “Heavens to Betsy! Could it be?”

Axis: “It is! It is! Burning hammer! Oh my God!”

Edwin: “I haven’t seen that move for AT LEAST a week!”

Taylor lays on the mat motionless, his heart telling him to stand but his body refusing. T-Bone hooks the leg!

Axis: “Could it be!”

Kivell: “One!”

King: “He kicked out!”

Edwin: “No he didn’t!”

Kivell: “Two!”

Deathwish: “Get up and stop clowning around!”

King: “I don’t think he’s clowning around Danny!”

Kivell: “Thr…”

With one last desperation attempt, Taylor rolls over, lifting his seemingly limp shoulder off of the mat!

King: “Ha ha! Hot diggidy dog!”

Axis: “Not so fast King, one more move could put him away, I don’t know how the hell he kicked out of that, but there’s no way he’s escaping a loss if he’s hit with a Porterhouse Suplex, or even worse, a Tiger Driver ’91!”

Edwin: “And don’t forget, the big Bonebowski has been working TNT’s arm throughout the match! He could make him tap with the SSTF!”

Axis: “Things aren’t looking good for T-Bone’s dynamite foe!”

T-Bone pries Taylor off of the mat to a huge “Teeeeee Boooooooonnnnne” chant from the enthusiastic audience. He makes a cutthroat signal, telegraphing to the excited crowd that the match is over. He positions TNT in a T-Bone suplex, and…

King: “Aaaaahhhh!!!! Somebody save him!”

Axis: “It’s the Porterhouse Suplex! T-Bone’s patented modified T-Bone Suplex!”

Edwin: “Holy inflatable dartboards! It’s all over!”

T-Bone begins tom lifts Taylor up for the move…but Taylor flips all the way over T-Bone! T-Bone whirls around, with a “which way did he go?” expression on his face. Thompson boots him in the mid section, shoves his head under his pelvis, hooks the arms, lifts him up in the powerbomb position and…

Deathwish: “TNT attempts to put away T-Bone for good with his signature Tiger Driver ’92 that he calls Dynamite! It has to be over!”

BAM! In one swift movement, T-Bone’s body is smashed on to the mat!

Axis: “Dynamite!”

Deathwish: “Tiger Driver ’92!”

Edwin: “Pearl River Plunge!”

King: “Big, tiger, explosive, river slam!”

Kivell: “One! Two! Thr…Two count!”

Deathwish: “WHAT!”

King: “NO!”

Axis: “HE KICKED OUT!”

Taylor stands up shaking with rage, and angrily screams for the helpless T-Bone to stand and meet his demise. T-Bone stands up, coughing and wheezing, every bone in his body feeling like it just went through a train wreck. Taylor launches off the ropes and rams his knee straight into T-Bone’s skull! T-Bone falls like a crash dummy, crashing back down onto the mat with a loud “thud.”

Edwin: “Ouch! TNT tosses him away like a soiled condom!”

Axis: “Eddie Mac, please, this is a family show.”

Edwin: “I know but I couldn’t think of anything else to compare him to.”

T-Bone, now at Taylor’s mercy, barely manages to stand up. Taylor bounces off of the rope again, and comes back with a flying clothesline…T-Bone ducks the forearm, and catches TNT on his way back! He shoves Taylor’s head between his legs, and hooks the arms!

Edwin: “Goodness gracious! TNT’s going to receive a taste of his own medicine! One Tiger Driver ’92 coming up!”

King: “Not so fast Mac Daddy! Boner usually likes to use a Tiger Driver ’91!”

Edwin: “Well, it involves a jungle dwelling animal, and that’s all that’s important.”

T-Bone attempts to lift Thompson, but Taylor pushes with all his might and manages to shove T-Bone against the ropes, forcing him to unhook his arms! Taylor rears back, let’s out a “KABOOM!” for the pleasure of the fans, and…

Axis: “What’s he conspiring now?”

Deathwish: “The end is near.”

Taylor carries through the usual ritual of the Dynamite set-up, but the move is reversed as he is back dropped over T-Bone and goes sprawling onto the mat!

Edwin: “Reversal! Reversal! But, what’s this?”

Thompson holds on to T-Bone’s legs, and uses the flipping momentum supplied by the backdrop to roll him up in a modified sunset flip!

Kivell: “One!”

T-Bone’s legs wriggle wildly as he struggles to kick out.

Kivell: “Two!”

TNT struggles to hold his wild opponent down on the mat.

Kivell: “Three!”

Axis: “We have a new TV champ! A new TV champ!”

Deathwish (jumping out of his chair ecstatically): Yahoo! (looking around, notices everyone staring, and calms down) Ahem. I mean, a truly efficient win by TNT.

***DING DING DING***

Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this bout, and the NEW (cheers) Smarks Junior League Television Champion, “TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson!”

The crowd erupts as a rockabilly AC/DC tune blasts from the speakers, an official hands the belt to Taylor, who wears a smile as wide as Sally Struthers. Taylor grabs the mike as his mentor enters the ring also. Thompson wheezes heavily, managing to catch his breath, and then begins a slightly nonsensical mini-promo.

TNT: “Lemme tell ya something T-Bone, I came in here thinkin that I’d walk outta here with your TV belt around my waist, but I never dreamed that it would be such a challenge. I just wanna say, that I respect you, and I…”

Deathwish suddenly gains a scowl on his face, and snatches the microphone from the dazed TNT.

Deathwish: “I’m proud of you Taylor, but you don’t need to respect that sports entertainer. You don’t need to respect anyone in this pile of shit federation, we’re a new breed of entertainers, no, we’re not entertainers, we’re wrestlers, we’re winners!”

Deathwish is crushed by an anvil of boos, Taylor looks upset, but is too tired to make any advances on Danny, so he simply grabs the mike, gives a “Watch this new TV champ explooooooooddddeee!” and heads to the back.

Edwin: “Wowza ladies and gentlemen, I can’t imagine what will happen between those two in the future.”

Axis: “We’ve already experienced plenty of action packed action tonight in the Gund Arena, and are sure to experience even more action packed action more action packed than the action packed action that we’ve already witnessed. Don’t touch your remote because we’ll be back live, with more SJL Metal right after this commercial break!”

April 18, 2002

SJL Metal comes back from the ad break, to see interviewer Ben Hardy standing with Erek Taylor backstage, The SJL World Title still draped over his shoulder. Upon seeing the high flying prince the Gund Arena absolutely explodes into a massive ovation of cheers, particularly from the lady fans of the JL, the sight of Erek drawing screams of absolute joy.

Hardy: “Well I’m here with the SJL World Champ Erek Taylor, and I was just wondering Erek if I could get your thoughts on your successful title defence on Crimson against both Ash Ketchum and Stryke.”

Erek: “Well well well, back once again in the Gund Arena (big pop).You know I just love it when the JL rolls into Cleveland Ohio (big pop) because Cleveland Ohio (big pop) would have to be perhaps my favourite place to be (even bigger pop).”

King: “Oh for Christ sakes, how many cheap pops can he fit into a sentence?”

Axis: “Quiet down King, let the man speak.”

King: “Don’t you tell me to quiet down convict boy.”

Erek: “I mean lets face it, it’s a city of fast cars and beautiful women (big pop). But tonight it’s also the home of a stupid, moronic, ugly fool who’s probably backstage somewhere crying his little eyes out. And that person is none other than Stryke.”

Enormous boos cascade forth at the very mention of Stryke’s name.

Erek: “Now why is he crying I hear you ask? Well, for weeks he has been rambling on like a fool that he’s better than me, that he can easily defeat me anytime, anywhere, and that he’d be the SJL World Champ.”

King: “Nobody likes a gloater.”

Edwin: “Nobody likes you either.”

Erek: “But on Crimson, he faced me, World Title on the line, in a match he chose, but did he win?”

Crowd: “NO!!!”

Erek: “Did he win the world title?”

Crowd: “NO!!!”

Erek: “Did he do what he said he could easily do?

Crowd: “NO!!!”

Erek: “Correct, the answer is no. So tell me then fine people of Cleveland (big pop), does that mean I won?”

Crowd: “YES!!!”

Erek: “Does that mean Erek Taylor actually beat Stryke in the ladder match?”

Crowd: “YES!!!”

Erek: “Does that mean the high flying prince is still the JL World Champ?”

Crowd: “YES!!!”

Erek: “Does that mean that Stryke is a stupid piece of crap who flat out S - U - C - K - S Sucks?”

Crowd: “YES!!!!!!”

The crowd goes into raucous cheers, a grin on Erek’s face.

Erek: “Well then Benny boy, the people have spoken.”

Erek hands the microphone back to Ben Hardy before walking off.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

As Taylor walks off the camera switches to one showing a different man, one who’s mere visage draws thunderous boos from the sold out Gund Arena. And that man is none other than Stryke himself. Stryke sits watching the monitor, listening to every word that tumbles out of the champs mouth, an angry glare etched across his face.

Axis: “Looks like Stryke was watching what Erek was just saying, and he doesn’t look too pleased.”

As Stryke continues to watch the monitor the door to his locker room opens, and Karen walks in, a drink in hand.

Karen: “Hey Andrew, what are you looking so angry about?”

Stryke: “What the hell do you think, it’s that fucking pretty boy Erek.”

Karen: “Oh, what’s he done now?”

Stryke: “That cocky little shit’s acting like he’s a big fucking superstar because he was able to fluke a win over me, dancing around like he’s the best in the world.”

Stryke gets up and starts to pace around, obviously not liking the situation.

Stryke: “Erek think’s he’s a real big shot. The guy wins the World Title on a fluke, he manages to beat me on a fluke, a match that was basically 2 on 1 I might add, and now he’s the biggest star in the world.”

Karen: “So? Like you said, it was basically 2 on 1, it wasn’t fair. But you can get another shot easy, with what you’ve got on MacPhisto you can get as many shots as you like.”

Stryke: “Yeah, well that won’t last for too much longer. That Edwin may be a complete nutball, but he’s smart, and he’ll work out a way out of it sooner of later. I’ll need to get another shot soon, but this time it’ll be one-on-one, nothing else to get in the way of me and him.”

Karen: “Well good. Now, shouldn’t you be coming up with something to make Erek’s life a living hell tonight.”

Stryke: “No. Erek wants to think he’s the big shot, let him think that. He has a match with Xero tonight, and I want him at peak performance, I want him to keep that title around his waist. See if Xero wins, I can beat him easy for the title, no problem, but now it’s about more than the title. I’ll win the SJL World Title, but I’ll win it by beating Erek, wiping that cocky grin right off his face. There’ll be no more flukes, his luck is about to run out.”

With that Stryke hops back down on the couch, focusing once again on the monitor as SJL Metal goes back to commercial break.

April 18, 2002

The commercial for a random Carrot Top ad comes to a close, as the SJL logo flashes across the screen and we return once again to a SJL Metal! The TVs around the world flicker to life, as rows of thousands of fans appear on the TV screens worldwide! The camera watching the action then swings over to the ever-so-noticeable announce team of Commissioner Edwin, The Suicide King, and Axis.

“Annnnnnnnnnnnddddddd WLEOCME BACK TO SJL METAL!!!” Edwin screams, popping up from his seat, “And welcome back to SJL Metal! I’m tasty Commissioner and God, Edwin MacPhisto, and I’m along side the delicious Axis, and the sweet and sour The Suicide King!”

“And what a night it’s been! And we’ve got more ahead of us, as Xero takes on Erek Taylor for the Smarks Junior League World Heavyweight Championship!” Axis says, with much enthusiasm in his voice.

“But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, gentlemen,” The Suicide King sneers, “Up next is Poisyn, a very impressive Junior League veteran, going one more time against Randy Turner!"

“Well, this match is sure to be a tasty delight,” Edwins says, “Last time on Metal, we saw Randy Turner go one on one against Poisyn in a ‘Find The Briefcase’ match. They collided in a huge war, and in the end Poisyn walked out with the briefcase, and five dollars richer! And it seems as if this war will continue, right here tonight!”

“Ah, yes, and Poisyn is looking for another win over the new comer, Turner,” SK says, “And it seems at if the match is about to begin…”

Funyon walks up the steel ring ramps, his trusty microphone in his hand, and walks into the ring between the middle and top rope, as he hops into the ring and quickly begins talking.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN…The following contest is scheduled for one fall…”

As Funyon is halfway through his sentence, the first few strums of the guitar part of Hoobastanks’ “Crawling In The Dark” echo through the arena’s PA system. Purple pyro shoots up on the entrance ramp as the guitar part become heavier, and the first line of lyrics can be heard, Poisyn emerges from the back with the smoke flowing behind him, a frown lodged on his face. He looks out at the crowd, as he receives a chorus of boos from the fans, which he just shrugs off as he heads down to the ring, ignoring the fans. He quickly slides under the bottom rope and into the ring, and jumps up on the second rope, looking over the fans. He takes his bandanna off looks out at the crowd, but then shakes his head ‘No’, as the fans rise from their feet in disgust at the man formerly known as Matt Myers.

“From New Haven, Connecticut, weighing in at 239 Pounds…POIIIIIISSSSYYYYNNN!!!” Funyon announces.

“Well, Poisyn doesn’t seem to be the most loved wrestler here,” Edwin says.

“Hey, neither am I, but I seem to live with it,” SK says, smiling.

“King, you live with a lot. You live 9 other guys in a small apartment because alone, you don’t have enough money to pay off the rent. Now that makes me suspicious,” Edwin says, moving his chair over a few inches away from King’s.

“Ugh…I hate carines…” SK says, putting his hand on his head.

“See?” Edwin says, “I told you he was becoming Curry.”

Just before The Suicide King is about to jump from his chair and try to beat down Edwin in a rage, System Of A Down’s “Prison Song” blasts over the PA System. After each beat, pyro shoots off, one from the left, the next from the right, and the next, final one in the middle. A massive man soon lumbers out from under the entrance ramp, as he puts his arm out and flexes it, to a gigantic pop from the crowd. He takes off his shit which reads “SJL METAL”, and throws it into the crowd, as one lucky fan catches it, and Turner slides under the bottom rope and into the ring, locking eyes with Poisyn.

“From Fort Worth, Texas, weighing in at 268 Pounds…RANDY TUUURRNNNNEEERRR!!!” Funyon says. After his announcements, he quickly gets out of the ring.

“Well, both men are in the ring, and here we go!” Axis says.

::DING! DING! DING!!!:::

Poisyn and Randy Turner stare at each other from across the ring, carefully circling each other, seeing who is going to be the first one to make a move. Turner is the first, as he lunges at Poisyn, trying to contact Poisyn with a grapple, but Poisyn is too quick for the giant Turner, as Poisyn quickly moves aside and tries to hit Turner with a swift judo kick to the forehead, but Turner ducks under the high kick and tries to connect with his swift, big clothesline, but Poisyn ducks and gives a swift kick to the knee of Randy to bring him down to one knee, as Poisyn quickly sees that Randy is vunerable, as he climbs up the second rope and tries to hit a flying crossbody, but his momentum is stopped when Randy catches him in mid-air, and slams him down on the mat in a gigantic powerslam! He quickly coves Poisyn as the referee begins to count…

ONE!

TWO!

TH—No, Poisyn kicks out just in the nick of time, as his shoulder comes flying off the mat even with the mightly weight of Randy Turner pressed on top of him.

“Turner has a lot of aggression after taking a heavy loss last week here on Metal,” Edwin says, “I hope Turner gets his groove back and picks up a huge win here!”

“Bah!” SK says, “Turner is a rookie to his world, he’s only had experience in amateur wrestling, and this is his what? His third of fourth match? I mean, ‘cummon people…”

Turner picks up Poisyn, as he whips him against the ropes, and tries to hit another big clothesline, only to have Poisyn duck under the clothesline and deliver a dropkick to the knees of the giant Turner, but Turner doesn’t go down, only grabbing his knee in pain as a sharp look of pain flashes across his face.

“There’s that aggressiveness of Poisyn,” SK exclaims, “He knows that Randy has leg problems, and he’s trying to single out Randy’s knee!”

Poisyn sees that Randy is doubled over in pain, his hands on his knees. Poisyn scurries back up to his feet and locks his arm around Randy’s head, signaling for a ‘Buzzkiller’ DDT, but Randy uses his strength to power out of it as he lifts up Poisyn over his head as Poisyn still has the DDT-hold on tightly!

“My GOD!” Edwin says, “Look at the strength of Randy Turner!”

Turner looks around, looking for a stop to place Poisyn. His search ends as he sets Poisyn down in a very uncomfortable position, as he places his stomach on the top rope of the ring! But Randy’s assault doesn’t end there, as he wraps his arms around the body of Poisyn, and lifts him off the ropes and slams him down on the mat in a belly-to-belly suplex! Randy covers, as he quickly hooks Poisyn’s leg…

ONE!

TWO!

THRE—Wait! A kick out by Poisyn!

“…And Poisyn kicks out!” Axis says, “Poisyn must be aching now, he’s taken a powerslam and a belly-to-belly suplex from that giant, Randy Turner!”

“I’m sure Poisyn is just faking it to throw Randy off,” SK says.

“I’m sure you’re faking stuff, too,” Edwin says, carefully eyeing The Suicide King.

“…And what do you mean by that?” SK growls.

“Oh…you know…maybe you should just come out of the closet…” Edwin says, nearly laughing.

“Edwin, I’m not in a closet, I’m right…Ohhhhhhhhh…I hate carnies…” SK moans.

Randy picks up Poisyn once again, and whips him across the ring as Poisyn collides with a turnbuckle. As Poisyn walks off, trying to catch his breath, Randy slides Poisyn on his back, and his signals for a Death Valley Driver! But, Poisyn quickly switches positions on the mighty back of Randy Turner, as he swiftly locks his arm around the head of Turner, and he comes down to the mat with incredible force, knocking down the giant! Poison sees that Randy is down as he climbs up the top rope and as Randy rises, still woozy, he sees Poison make and insane jump off of the top rope in a corkscrew moonsault! Randy goes down with Poisyn on top of him, as Poisyn tries to hook Randy’s gigantic leg…

ONE!

TWO…NO! Randy powers out, shoving Poisyn off of him! Poisyn flies several feet across the ring, and a look of shock stretches across his face as Randy Turner gets up, and a starting look of determination shoots across his face.

“Randy won’t stay down, he was defeated last time, and he’s not going to stand for it again,” Edwin says.

Poisyn backs away from Randy Turner a few steps, trying to re-think his stragity. Poisyn then gets a look of determination on his face, as he charges as Turner, trying to hit him with a powerful martial arts kick, but Randy ducks under it! Poisyn tries to rush Randy again, but this time he is met with a kick to the gut, as Randy locks his arms around Poisyn’s arms, signaling for a double underhook suplex! He looks out at the crowd, and quickly tires to lift Poisyn up, but Poisyn is took agile, as Randy looses his grip and flips over the back of Turner. Turner turns around to see Poisyn leap against the ropes and come back at Turner in an alternative elbow, which connects! Poisyn then looks down at the weakened Turner, and jumps up to the top rope, as he looks out at the crowd…and leaps off in a leap of faiths as he hits a leg drop, landing it right on Randy’s neck! Poisyn quickly makes the cover, as the official counts…

ONE!

TWO!

THREE! YES! Wait! NO! Randy Turner shoots his should off of the mat as if it was on fire!

“…And that was a close count, but Randy kicked out at about two and three quarters,” Edwin says, “Poisyn is trying to keep this match as a speedy, aggressive pace using his quickness, but Randy Turner wants to slow things down a little bit with power moves! Speaking of being speedy and aggressive, King, is that how you like it with your nine other roommates?”

Axis and Edwin let out a huge laugh, as King grows.

“Edwin, Axis…you do know when I snap, you’ll both be the first to go…” SK scoffs.

As Edwin and King continue their war of words at the announce table, Poisyn backs away from the giant Turner, waiting for him to rise. Turner slowly gets up, one hand rubbing his knee, which appears to be bothering him greatly. Poisyn quickly sneaks behind Turner, as he locks on a full nelson, and wraps his leg around the aching knee of Turner, and pushes forward, as Turner’s knee gives out, sending his smashing to the mat in a alternative slam! Turner tries to get up once more, but Poisyn makes another pin attempt…

ONE!

TW—NO! NO! Randy Turner kicks out!

“Notice that Randy Turner isn’t powering out of all of Poisyn’s pin attempts,” SK notes, “He’s saving his strength for later, if there is a later in this match, because I think Poisyn has this one in the bag!”

“Speaking of bags, King, you should have a bag around your head. I think your scaring the ladies behind us,” Edwin says, as King flashes a look at Edwin.

“That, Mister Commissioner, was un-called for!” King remarks.

“Turning on the Midnight Carnival was un-called for, and joining the now dissembled ‘IGNWO’, but hey, in your book, that’s okay,” Edwin says. King groans and shakes his fist threateningly at the Junior Leauge Commissioner.

Poisyn picks up Randy once again, as he delivers a swift kick to the gut of Turner. He then quickly dashes away from Randy, as he carefully places himself perched on the top rope, as he watches Randy rise from the ashes. Turner, whose back is facing Poisyn, turns around to have Poisyn make a mad suicide dive off of the top rope, as Poisyn quickly wraps his legs around the neck of Randy! He tries to take him down with a hurricane-rana, but Randy quickly catches Poisyn, as he lifts him up on to his mighty shoulders, and sets him down in a gigantic powerbomb! The crowd rises to their feet at the sight of the dire-hard move!

“TUR-NER! TUR-NER! TUR-NER! TUR-NER! TUR-NER! TUR-NER! TUR-NER! TUR-NER!” The crowd rises from their chairs, as they chant the name of the Fort Worth native.

“AMAZING!” Edwin screams, “SIMPLY AMAZING! DID YOU SEE THE GODLY STRENGTH OF RANDY TURNER?!”

“Uh…I can come up with an excuse for this…” SK quickly says to himself, “Uh…Poisyn…he’s faking it…”

“FAKING IT?!” Axis screams, “How could he fake a powerful move like that?”

“Well…he could always…uh…or he could…” SK stutters, “Uh…well, bullshit.”

ONNNNNEEEE!!! The referee begins to make the ten count, as both men don’t move at all. Randy is breathing hard, as Poisyn shakes his head as he lies on the cold mat.

TTTWWWOO!!! Still, no movement, but Randy begins to push himself up, but he grabs his knee first…

TTTHHRRREEE!!! Poisyn begins to rise also, this time breathing hard…

FFFFOOOOOUUURRR!!! Randy is almost to his knees now, his arm is still wrapped around his giant leg for support on his knee…

FFFFFIIIIIIVVVVVEEEE!!! Poisyn is now almost on one foot, as he looks across the ring to see that Turner is almost up too…

SSSIIIXXXXX!!! Both men reach their vertical base now, panting like wet dogs on a hot, summer day. Poisyn tries to hit Randy Turner with a running clothesline, but Randy quickly ducks, and Poisyn collides with the ring turnbuckle! Randy reaches back, as he takes down Poisyn with a neckbreaker! Randy then picks up Poisyn and shoves his head in-between his legs, as he looks out at the crowd and signals for another powerbomb, but as Randy lifts Poisyn up on to his mighty shoulders, Poisyn anticipates this and takes him down by shifting his weight to his upper body and coming down to the mat, hitting a hurricane-rana roll up! The referee drops to his knees, and begins to count…

ONE!

TWO!

THR—No, Randy kicks out at two and a half!

“We’re seeing a lot of technical wrestling moves from Poisyn, this isn’t a side of him we’re use to seeing,” exclaims Axis.

Poisyn quickly dashes at Randy again, only this time to be quickly shoved down to the mat, as Randy places himself on top of Poisyn, locking his legs around the body of Poisyn, and also slapping on a half nelson, as Poisyn feels the full pain of the ‘Lockdown’! Poisyn lets out a yell, as Randy Turner adds pressure to his powerful submission hold. Poisyn begins to crawl, with what little energy he has, toward the bottom rope, as he reaches out, only to find that it’s too far away, as he needs to crawl closer. As Poisyn crawls closer to the ropes, the pain in his neck and sides grow stronger…as he reaches out…no, no, not this time, either, but he can almost smell the sweat of other JL wrestlers who have touched the same rope. He reaches out with all his might one final time and…YES! YES! HE TOUCHES IT! HE GRABS THE BOTTOM ROPE!

“I DON’T BELIEVE IT! POISYN HAS ESCAPED THE LOCKDOWN, ONE OF THE MOST POWERUFL SUBMISSION HOLDS I’VE EVER SEEN!” Edwin screams.

Turner lets go of the hold, as he walks around the ring, rubbing his temples in his forehead, as he looks toward the sky and screams, “WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO BEAT THIS GUY?!” He lets out a moan as Poisyn rises to his feet, and quickly slides under the bottom rope and into the ring, as Poisyn grabs a chair next to the announce table!

“’GET EM, POISYN! GET ‘EM!” SK says to Poisyn.

“King, this match has disqualification rules, you know,” Axis says, “If Poisyn uses the chair, he looses.”

King pauses, as he looks at Poisyn, then turns to Axis. He then looks back at Poisyn and screams, “WAIT! NO! CHANGE OF PLANS! COME FUCKING BACK, SON!”

Poisyn rushes into the ring, welding a steel chair, as he rushes at Randy Turner, as he wildly swings it…but makes one small mistake.

He misses Turner.

And it colides with the referee, who goes down, knocked out right there.

“MY GOD! POISYN MISSED! POISYN MISSED!” Edwin exclaims.

Poisyn screams “OH SHIT!” at what he just did, as he drops the chair, and turns around to meet Randy Turner, who kicks him in the gut once again, and puts his head in-between his legs and lifts him up, and WHAM! Sets him down right on the chair in a sit-out powerbomb! Randy covers, but the referee is knocked out cold! Randy groans, as he gets off of Poisyn.

“There’s no ref! There’s…WAIT! LOOK! LOOK WHOSE RUNNING THROUGH THE CROWD!” SK says, as all three heads at the announce table turn to see a young woman with flowing black hair jump over the barrier, welding a lead, steel pipe. She slides into the ring, as Randy Turner sees her and a suspicious look flashes across his face.

“Why, King, that’s…that’s…THAT BRIANNA FLYNN! THAT’S POISYN’S GIRLFRIEND AND A SJL MANAGER! WHY, WE HAVEN’T SEEN HER SINCE MATT MYERS CAME BACK AS POISYN!” Edwin says.

Brianna Flynn makes one simple gesture toward Poisyn with the lead pipe, and Randy Turner smiles, as he nods in approval. Poisyn gets up from the brutal powerbomb, as he begins to crawl away from Brianna, holding his hands up in mercy…but then…

Brianna turns around, and runs toward Randy Turner, dropping the lead pipe.

She drops down to her knees, as Turner has his back turned, smiling at the crowd, and gives him a low blow! Turner immediately grabs his family jewels, as he turns around to Brianna Flynn just in time to see her pick up the pipe and bash him over the head with it.

“WHAT THE…WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!” Axis says.

Brianna then throws the pipe out of the ring, and walks over to Poisyn. She pushes the chair out of the ring with her foot, and she pulls her boyfriend over the body of Randy Turner. As the referee begins to stir, she dashes out of the ring. The referee looks to see like a bird on the back of an elephant, but the referee soon realizes what is is, and counts…

OOOOONNNEEEE!!!

“BY GOD, IT CAN’T END LIKE THIS! WHAT A SCREWJOB!” Axis screams.

TTTTTTWWWWOO!!!

“YES YYYEEEESSS!!!” King laughs.

TTTTHHRRRREEE!!!

::Ding! Ding! Ding!::

The ring bell sounds, and shortly after that “Crawling In The Dark” blasts over the PA System. Poisyn rolls off of the back of Randy Turner, as Brianna picks him up and she gives him a peck on the cheek and a gigantic hug as an evil smile stretches across her face. She reaches outside the ring, as Funyon gives her the microphone. Fans let down chorus of boos upon the evil couple.

“Well, that’s one down,” Brianna Flynn says, looking at Poisyn, who gives a weak smile, “That’s one person of soon to be several that will feel the pure, toxicity of Poisyn!”

“BOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

“Boo? You should be saying ‘Oh yay!’” Brianna says, looking out at the crowd, “Brianna Flynn is back!”

A small “BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT!” chant can be heard, but it fades out quickly.

“Now…I know what a lot of you are thinking, am I ‘The One’? No…No…I’m not the one. But I know who he is. I know where he is.” Brianna says, not with an evil look upon her face.

Brianna meets eyes with Poisyn, whose weak smile is not an evil grin.

“And we…will…stop at NOTHING…to find him.”

Brianna and Poisyn exchange a quick kiss, as she smiles also. Metal fades into a commercial as the fading image of Brianna and Poisyn can be seen…

April 18, 2002

-King- “We’re back, and what a mediocre show so far, these kids really need to be shown the ropes by a true superstar like me...”

-Axis- “Whatever. Tonight’s show has been exciting, and it proves to get even better. Tonight, in our main event, champion Erek Taylor will defend his belt against JL mainstay Xero! This one is going to be heated!”

-Edwin- “But right now, we go to Ben Hardy for an exclusive! A new JL face has been makin’ waves, and that face is masked behind a black bandanna! Vanguard, the Silent Watcher of the SJL is here, but nobody knows exactly what his deal is.”

-Axis- “Let’s go to Hardy for the scoop!”

The camera changes. Beams, pipes, and catwalks adorn the poorly lit area, where Ben Hardy clutches onto a lead bold with one hand, and holds his mic with the other. He speaks.

-Ben Hardy- “Hey guys, I’m up here above the SmarkTron, and to be honest, I’m in fear for my life, but this is the only way I could get the interview. This mysterious superstar, known only as Vanguard, resides up here, and he’s going to shed some light onto his personality and what he’s really about. Vanguard, thank you for having me.”

-Vanguard- “Thank you for coming, Ben, and welcome to the Aery.”

-Ben- “The Aery? What’s that?”

-Vanguard- “It is this. It is my home. My perch, from where I witness everything.”

-Ben- “So from here, you kind of watch over the SJL?”

-Vanguard- “You never know when you need a Guardian Angel to watch over you.”

-Ben- “True words. But what exactly are you here for, Vanguard? Why the SJL? What is your ultimate goal?”

-Vanguard- “My goal has nothing to do with the SJL. As long as I am here, I will work to protect the innocent and punish the unjust, but my real work is not here. It is with the SWF.”

-Ben- “The SWF?”

-Vanguard- “A cesspool of injustice. And wherever injustice breeds, there I am needed the most.”

-Ben- “But you can’t just go to the SWF and start raining down swift Vigilante Justice.”

-Vanguard- “That is why I am here. I have to get through the SJL in order to get to the SWF, where my real work begins. In truth, I should be there now. Time is wasting. More and more people are being treated unfairly, are being robbed of what is rightfully there, and I am forced to sit idly by here, in a feeder league, and watch these serpents inject their venom onto these people.”

-Ben- “I see. So how long do you think it will take before you reach that goal?”

-Vanguard- “Any length of time is too long. I should be there yesterday. The more time is wasted, the worse the sickness of these invaders will get. The more Freedom will become just a dream.”

-Ben- “Well, here’s a question most people really want to know, and as I stand here in your Aery, it comes to mind. What’s with all of the Owls?”

-Vanguard- “Heh- chicks dig the ambiance.”

-Ben- “I see.”

-Vanguard- “They are very intelligent, and they are my eyes and ears all over the city and the arena. This is my network, and my only friends.”

-Ben- “And this one here, that usually flies out with you?”

-Vanguard- “His name is Nightwatch, and he is my right hand. Without him, I could probably do nothing. He is my best friend and companion.”

-Ben- “Best friends with an owl, right. Okay. And another question, what do you think about the recent comparisons to Cyclone Comet?”

-Vanguard- “These people just don’t get it. I am not a super hero. I do not fight for truth, justice, and the american way. I fight for vengeance. I fight to punish the wicked, and to Free the enslaved. I am not the caped crusader, I am the Vindicator, the Vigilante, the Dark Knight.”

-Ben- “So whereas Comet is more of a Superman figure, you are kind of a Batman, or a Spawn?”

-Vanguard- “Good analogy.”

-Ben- “Okay, I think we’ve got it. One more thing. What would you like to say to the unjust right here in the SJL?”

-Vanguard- “Where can you run? Where can you hide? In the darkness, I will find you. I shouldn’t be here, I should be doing my true duty, but as long as I am stuck here, as long as this misfortune angers me, I will take out my frustrations on you. Blind Justice will prevail against the wicked, and evil will be punished. I AM VANGUARD! And your injustices will be your undoing.”

-Ben- “Well guys, this guy is scaring me, and we’re kinda high up, so I’m gonna leave now. Thanks Vanguard.”

-Vanguard- “Anytime, Ben. I am here for the free people.”

Hardy leaves the Aery as Vanguard scratches Nightwatch on the head.

-Vanguard- “How was I night? Too dramatic?”

He laughs as his owl hoots, and stares off.

-Vanguard- “They just don’t understand. But they will. I will make them.”

The cameraman leaves as the last shot of the posing Dark Knight in the rafters is shown. His Owl sitting on his shoulder, his trench coat flapping in the cool arena breeze, where he watches, and waits...

And waits...

April 18, 2002

SPECIAL G0R0 MESSAGE: "THIS IS BEINGZ THE BEST MATCH EVERS!!!!!34!@$#@)(*#%@!!!1! READ OR ILL BE TAKIN YOU TO THE CLEANERZ G0R0STYLE!!!@!)($*!!!"

…And we’re back! The camera pans around the Ohio crowd, most of whom jump in their seats, trying to get their faces on camera, if only for a fleeting second! Several different cameras do quick spins, looking at different parts of the audience! The shots catch several signs, including ones reading, “Ich kennzeichne für deKindes!” “If you can read this, you’re probably the Boston Strangler!” and somewhere WAY back in the upper mezzanine, row 176, there are several people holding up letters reading “C-U-T-T-H-R-O-A-T”. The camera halts it’s little spiral, coming to rest on the announcer’s table, manned by The Usual Suspects.

Axis: “Welcome back to Cleveland, folks!”

Suicide King: “And, hey! This crowd has *officially* surpassed any resemblance to any Cavaliers crowd this season! …Oh, wait, that happened when someone actually *showed up!* Bahahahaha!”

Edwin: “And, tell me, exactly *what* state are we in, oh suicidal one?”

King: “…Ohio, Edwin.”

Edwin: “Ohayo!”

King: “Yeah, Ohio.”

Edwin: “Hai!”

King: “…Yeah, hi.”

Edwin: “Hai!”

King: “I already said ‘Hi’, you moron.”

Edwin: “Ah, King no baka, eh, Suicide-chan?”

(King glowers and wallops Edwin with his panda)

Axis: “…I don’t get paid enough for this. Anyway, up next is the street fight between infrequent tag partners Z and Ced Ordonez, but…”

Edwin: “BUT! As we saw earlier in the broadcast, Z talked to Ced, and said that Shawn Brody, in an allegation that that is nothing more than a fragrant *rumor* I assure you, used his power over the commissioner to dictate the booking of this match!”

Axis: “Of course, Ced said he had plan to avoid this…”

King: “Well, it can’t possibly be any stupider than dressing up like the New Age Outlaws.”

Edwin: “Hey, you never know. They could dress up as Mistress Sarah and Sydney Sky as a ‘Tribute to the Women of the SJL!’”

King: “And exactly how is that supposed to help them in a street fight?”

Edwin: “Eh, I dunno’. I just wanted to give you the mental image of Z in a dominatrix outfit!”

As King struggles mightily to retain his lunch, Funyon steps into the ring, plucking a lose thread from his tuxedo. He raises the microphone to his lips, and…

Funyon: “The following match, scheduled for one fall, is a Cleveland Street Fight!” (He waits as the crowd gives a cheap pop at their cities name) “There are no disqualification’s, or countouts, and falls count anywhere in the city limits!” (sensing senseless violence, the crowd gives another cheer.) “Introducing first, from San Jose, California! Weighing in at 191lbs… Ced… ORDONEZ!!”

The camera cuts to the entrance, where… nothing happens. No music plays and no-one comes out.

Axis: “Uh-oh… remember the last time these guys missed their cue?”

King: “Oh no… Ohnoohpleasegodno.”

Funyon(quicker): “Err… From San Jose, California! Weighing in at 191 lbs… Ced… ORDONEZ!!”

Again, the camera cuts to the entrance, and again, nothing happens.

King: “You know, maybe this is all part of Ced’s plan.”

Axis: “How so?”

King: “Well, if he doesn’t show up, Johnny Generic automatically gets the victory!”

Edwin: “Nah, that sounds more like one of—Hey, look at the SmarkTron®!”

At Edwin’s exclamation, the camera hastily cuts to the SmarkTron®, which flickers to life! The imige shows Z and Ced Ordonez. Looking at each other, sharing a cold steely glare! The crowd cheers reflexively, even as the two continue staring. Finally, Ced breaks the silence…

Ced(cold chuckle): “So, you really think you can beat me in a street fight?”

Z(same cold chuckle): “Heh, you can count on it! I’ll show you how ugly you really are…”

Ced(grinning): “Oh yeah?”

Z(same grin): “Yeah.”

Both: “Let’s do it!”

Both men look to the side, spinning, as the camera zooms out, showing the two seated at the Street Fighter Alpha 3 console in the Gund Arenas arcade! Senior official Matthew Kivell leans on the console, obviously liking the setup. Through his thick cockney accent, he begins to explain the rules…

Matty K: “ ‘Kay, you two blokes know the rules, raight? Ya’ each pick one fightah, and engage in a three round match. This’ll be played in A-ISM, mode, and I want a good, clean fight! No Shin Akuma, no Super Bison, and none of that ‘Low sweep, Hadouken’ crap! Undastand?”

The two nod.

Matty K: “Good. Go!”

The camera zooms in on the screen of the machine, as both of the two pick characters. Axis chimes in…

Axis: “Looks like Ced found a loop hole for the match! Instead of having a street fight, they’re playing Street FIGHTER!”

Edwin: “Blast. Here I was hoping that they would have that ‘Tribute to the Women of the SJL!’”

King: “Grk.”

Axis: “And… yes! It looks like Ced has elected to play as Ryu!”

King: “Hey, wait a minute. You’re actually going to call this!?”

Edwin: “And Z has picked… Dan? Well, it’s in character, if nothing else…”

King: “You too!? Man…”

The machine flashes ‘Round 1… Fight!’ and the two get underway! Immediately, both Dan and Ryu begin charging fireballs, as the Gadouken and the Hadouken race to the center of the screen, canceling each other out! Z mashes buttons hopelessly, sending Dan rolling… and performing a taunt. Showing considerably more prowess, ignoring the Hdouken setup, and charging one of his own, leveling Dan!

Axis: “Ced… erm… ‘Ryu’ with a Hadouken, sending Dan on the recoil into the corner! …And Ryu with a jumping cross-up!”

Edwin: “I think he might be looking to dial up a combo, Axis.”

Following up the cross-up, Ced has Ryu duck, performing a long, low kick! Ryu stands, and delivers a solid kick to Dan’s face! Following that, Ced dials up another Hadouken! Z mindlessly mashes the buttons, vainly attempting to stop Ced from destroying him! Intent on a quick wind, Ced attempts to call up a super attack… but Ced fumbles the buttons, only doing a weak kick that Z manages to block! Again mashing buttons, Z surprises Ced with a Dragon Punch!

Edwin: “Unbelievable! Dan just surprised Ryu with a ‘Kouryuuken!’ GO Z!”

Axis: “We’re supposed to be impartial, you know… Anyway, Z jumps… for a taunt?”

Edwin: “And follows it up with a Dankukyaku! A second! Genius, Axis! Bloody genius! I wish I could play Dan that well!”

(Axis mumbles something into the microphone)

Edwin: “Oh yes, that’s right! I can, seeing as I beat the –cough- Zangrief master this afternoon with him!”

Axis: “Shut up. Just… shut up.”

With another button mashing session behind him, Z has Dan knock Ryu across the face with a roundhouse sweep, knocking him dizzy! Sensing the his opportunity, Z begins to dial up a combo of his own…

Edwin: “Looks like Z actually knows a move for this game!”

King: “And I still can’t believe that your calling this…”

Axis(ignoring King): “And it’s looks like…”

Edwin: “Yes, it’s the…”

Both: “Chouhatsu Shinwa?”

Dan begins to bust out his signature humiliation move, doing ridiculous taunts every time Z presses a different button! Ced, meanwhile, mutters profanity as he mashes the buttons and jiggles the joystick in an attempt to shake Ryu out of his dizzy state. Finally, Ryu shakes the cobwebs out, and Ced begins to input another supercombo move… with Dan still taunting.

Edwin: “Egad, Axis! Looks like Ced is getting serious!”

Axis: “But Z is still doing the Chouhatsu Shinwa, obviously overjoyed he can actually do *something*”

Finally, Z finishes Dan’s taunting spree, just as Ced inputs the final combo button! Dan moves closer to Ryu, still unsuspecting, as Ryu lets lose the Shinkuu Hadouken, engulfing Dan in firey death! Dan crashes to the ground as the ‘K-O’ pops up on the screen, and Ryu folds his arms over his chest, allowing a slight smirk, as an unseen wind ruffles his hair. Z bangs his head on the console, as Ced celebrates. Matty K comes up behind them…

Matty K: “Oi! Fabulous wallop! …uh, any of you chaps got a quarter? I’d kinds like to get in on the next round…”

Ced and Z look at each other, before searching their person for any lose change. The camera cuts back to the announcers.

King: “…”

Axis: “So, uh, what do we call this match? A no-contest?”

Edwin: “Hey, only I have that power!” (he clears his throat) “As commissioner of the SJL, I hear by declare this bout to be no contest! Now, either of you have any spare change, I spent my last on a daiquiri before the show, and I’d like to go beat Kivell…”

(Axis sighs)

Axis: “Yeah, anyway… don’t change that channel folks, there’s more Metal on the way! Insane Luchadore takes on the incomparable Shawn Brody, next! ”

Edwin: “And if you do change that channel, I have the Hville Thugg come to you house and eat you! ‘Cause he’s BIG! Grr!”

Edwin ‘Grrs’ all the way to commercial break, as we fade out…

April 18, 2002

(As we cut to the backstage area, Ben Hardy glances over towards the back of the entranceway, and sees somebody coming.)

Hardy: Randy! Hey Randy!

(Into the shot comes Randy, fresh off his second loss to Poisyn, and not too pleased about it. He's holding the back of his head with both hands in disbelief, and looks like he'll punch a hole through the next person who'll piss him off.)

Hardy: Randy Turner, how do you feel after tonight's loss to Poisyn, your second straight loss to the returning SJL superstar?

(Turner takes his hands off of his head, and stares at Hardy, seething. Hardy moves backwards a bit, trying to get out of the reach of Randy.)

Turner: ...How do I feel? HOW DO I FEEL?!?!?

(Hardy can tell he's about to get a beating, and backs away as Turner rips the mic from his hand. He turns to the camera, quivering in anger.)

Turner: I FEEL LIKE A LOSER! How could this have happened?!? I've never lost so much in my life! From the time I started wrestling, I've been busting my ass. Day in, and day out, working my ass off. After college, I continued that way. And then I came here. I made a good impression...but now, it's all gone. IT'S ALL GONE. People don't FEAR me anymore. I can't make people scared of me anymore. And when I can't do that, it doesn't make this worth it anymore.

(Turner breathes in, as if to stop himself from going on a tirade that probably would've got him cut off.)

Turner: Well, no more. I quit. I'm leaving the SJL, and I'm going back to Texas. I'll work my ass off like I never have before. And I'll come back to here...I'll come back, and I'll be better than ever before. And, everyone in the back, and everyone in those stands tonight better believe one thing. And that one thing is that I WILL restore fear in the SJL...EVERYONE. WILL. FEAR. ME.

(Turner throws the mic at the cameraman, staggering him backwards as the crowd is almost in shock at this rant. Ben Hardy sneaks back into the shot, checking to see if Turner is gone yet. Hardy slowly picks the mic back up, and turns to the camera.)

Hardy: ...Back to you guys.

(The shot of Axis, King, and Edwin at the announce table is shown, and the reactions are mixed...Axis is kind of scratching his head, King is laughing, and Edwin can't believe it.)

Edwin: ...Wha-what just happened?

King: Can't you tell! That wussy Turner finally pussed out, and now he's gonna go back to Texas! I knew he couldn't hack it! It takes a real man to compete in the SJL.

Axis: How the hell did you get in this fed, then?

King: Because I'm the King of Hearts. Duh.

Edwin: He had such a bright future ahead of him. I guess he couldn't stand losing.

King: Maybe he should go onto Oprah to discuss his problems.

(Axis looks over at King, shaking his head.)

Axis: ...I hope he comes back soon, so he can kick your ass.

King: I'd like to see that redneck try. I wouldn't even bother getting in wrestling gear for a match with him.

Axis: Shut up already. The next match is coming up, anyways...

April 18, 2002

Shawn Brody in his usual attire of the tights (with Classic Angel –separate- words on each side). He wears a sleeveless Clan shirt (of Jesus on the cross, head down dead. With “So says the Clan…” on some people’s “Messiah’s” forehead with the gothic hooded figures surrounding the Cross). His face painted white intended to make him look like a skull. Shawn’s body is straight on a black leather couch as he looks at Melissa. Her careless, (yet cute if you like that gothic look) and black streaked face stares dully back at Brody. “Good luck, Shawn.” She wishes him softly. Shawn slightly nods, and then sighs briefly. “He’s the next victim, he’ll lose to me, he’ll lose AGAIN to the Clan.” Brody predicts with optimism (though showing no tone of it). Melissa nods, and then rolls her eyes quickly at his barely audible and monotone rambles. She flips her long black hair back over her shoulder as Brody gets up and leaves for the ring.

The almighty Clan… the so powerful Clan, such a threat in the ML… the rulers of the WF is depleted in the JL. Down to one man, it's pitiful and upsets me. Now, I face that sole man, Shawn Brody. Makes me laugh almost. Andrew Rickmen, dubbed the Insane Luchador and self-dubbed Plague, thinks to himself. His slender back is propped against the dirty white wall of his locker room. He takes an in-ward sigh and then releases it in a hissing sound. Rickmen continues to brood until he glances up the wall at a clock. (Two black overstuffed couches and chairs all leather… hell of better than IGN’s furnishings). He breathes in deeply, shutting his eyes for a little bit. Almost time to go. Andrew thinks to himself. Time to prove myself… He adds on. I have brilliantly yet quickly beat Deathwish and then Deathwish got retribution. Plague recaps his return. He quickly remembers his ML Retribution match but pushes it out of his mind. He relaxes his tensed muscles, and walks loudly on the soft aqua (tacky) rug.

(The camera wanders throughout the insane marks yelling (most drunk) to get their seconds of fame! Signs like “I MARK FOR PORNO! http://www.hotlovingpandas.com” and “Taylor for President!” also the most unoriginal sign ever “JL!” Five portly men with their shirts off with ripples like waves of a sea spell out Mafia. The camera gets past that repulsive sight with great speed and puts the green eye, yellow eye, Carnie freak (as King would describe the wacky MacPhisto) with a grand heart-warming smile. Axis grins slightly too, and King slouches into his seat a bit. He also smirks a bit).

“Welcome back to the action rich Metal! We’re back and ready to see two jackasses beat the living hell out of each other!” Axis welcomes back, then adds on excited. “Yes and I am unfortunately next to the bad, nasty Suicide King.” Edwin says, barely avoiding a slap attempt.

“Insane Luchador had incredible luck on his return, BARELY getting the win, then Danny got his way and won!” Axis exclaims, and Edwin nods like a hyperactive kid.

”The bloody chump deserved it… the Plague? Give me a break!” Edwin says only rolling his green eye. (Which is quite freaky). Edwin strokes his goatee as King laughs Edwin’s goofiness. “Stupid Carnie…” “But I eat fruits too!” Edwin whines.

”This match is scheduled for one fall…” Funyon announces begin, breaking a moment of silence.

Stabbing Westward “Darkest Days” play on the speakers, causing the fans to boo enormously. The lights dim tremendously and strobe lights flashy everywhere. “If he’s in the Clan? Why all the lights?” Axis asks, making Edwin snicker, and Suicide makes a move to explain but the song picks up drowning him out. A figure with a long black robe steps out onto the stage, and raises a long kendo stick into the air. Not too long afterwards the gothic girlfiend (I mean friend) of Brody’s hangs around his waist giving an evil smile.

“Being accompanied to the ring by the lovely Melissa, Weighing in at 227 pounds... He is the Clan... ‘THE FALLEN ANGEL’ SHAAAWN BROOOOOODDY!” Funyon continues. Not too soon afterwards the Fallen Angel walks down the aisle, with Melissa holding Brody’s lethal weapon of choice. He approaches ringside slipping the robe off as the fans see his usual attire. The lights go out, and some harsh guitar chords chime in. “DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!” sends all of the people shitting their pants, meanwhile Mudvayne’s “Dig” continues. The lights go one, but are dimmed. The Insane Luchador with the black sweatshirt, and tan cargoes, both ridicliously baggy. He arches his back and spits the Black Mist into the air. “And the opponent, the self-dubbed ‘True Plague’ weighing in at 195 and is 6’3”… INSANE LUCHADOR AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNDRREEEEEEWWWWWWWW RICKMEN!” Funyon says holding out “Andrew” way too long.

He whips around, charging down the aisle, sliding into the ring and springing up. The bell chimes, and Axis says, “And the match is underway!” Brody lunges forward and Insane Luchador answers with a powerful fist to Brody’s chest. Andrew follows up with whipping his right leg out, his skate shoe slamming into Brody’s stomach, Brody bends over in pain and IL leaps up kneeing Shawn in the face.

“Insane Luchador takes instant control… meh. Huzzah! Least we don’t have to watch these guys battle their evil ways too long!” Edwin says with a grin.

“Agreed.” Agrees Axis.

Shawn rolls out of the ring to fans boos. He gets up and leans against the canvas on the outside gasping for air, he sucks enough in and rolls back in. Andrew launches a left leg sidekick, but Shawn dodges it, IL throws a twist punch to Brody’s stomach but he catches it. Shawn draws Andrew into him, making a grapple. He grabs the back of IL’s neck with both hands, drops to one knee turning to the side. He tosses Andrew over and gives him a kick to the spine, and the fans boo even louder.

“Ouch, the spinal tap… Shawn could of hate something much harder though.” King points out and corrects, watching Edwin slowly, barely agreeing rubbing his goatee.

Shawn grabs a clump of Andrew’s spiked hair and pulls him to his feet. Dazed but not truly hurt Rickmen throws a sloppy opened hand slap to Shawn’s cheek. (Not feminine though) and Brody’s cheek starts to throb. The Fallen Angel grabs Andrew by the hair and charges forwards towards the ropes by the ring entrance. He uses his strength to actually lift and throw Andrew out of the ring, making him hit with a thud. Melissa cheers him on from the outside, while King from the announcer’s table looks her up and down.

“Hey Melissa come over here!” Suicide says, pretending to be passionate. She looks over, and then slowly thinks. She nods walking over, as King hands her his headset and he grabs the usual extra swingy chair helping her in. “Thanks.” She comments, as Axis retorts “She has a high voice for a Goth.” Melissa still wielding the kendo stick flips off Axis with her free hand.

Meanwhile, in the ring Shawn takes his clenched fist, and slides his thumb over his throat making his favorite taunt. The fans boo louder (some voices now harsh). Shawn takes a few steps to the center of the ring (bearing the JL’s logo) and he charges forward leaping over the ropes twisting his body while hitting a Crossbody. Insane Luchador, who had just got to his feet stares up, screams “Shit.” And lunges backwards, but is caught by Brody’s weight of force.

“Impact of a figure is determinate by mass times the relative speed… Isaac Newton I believe. So, Brody’s around 227, and at nice speed, it would not be jolly to be the Insane Luchador.” Edwin states and then figures with a chuckle as he follows up, “Then again any time being Andrew Rickmen would suck.”

“Shows how great Shawn is.” Melissa comments with an admiring sigh. “How come he’s lost FOUR matches then, in a row may I add?” Axis asks jeering Shawn. Melissa threatens Axis with a kendo stick. “Feisty fiend.” Edwin adds, barely avoiding King’s slap.

The referee Sexton Hardcastle gets lost in the count out so starts back at five.

Six, Shawn pulls him up, shaky and dazed.

Seven, Andrew rises to his knees coughing.

Eight, Shawn pulls Andrew up from his chin.

Nine, Shawn throws two wild punches, which IL avoids. The two lunge for the ring.

Ten, Shawn slides gracefully into the ring, and Insane Luchador grabs the top ropes, vaulting over the top ropes landing on his feet shaky. Sexton looks up to see Shawn throw a kick straight to Insane Luchador’s chin. Andrew falls backwards, and he lunges towards the Plague. Andrew hits the corner, and he steps forwards. Shawn throws out his arm in a clothesline attempt, and Rickmen dodges it and Shawn with too much momentum spins around. Andrew locks in the full nelson! The fans all rise to their feet, booing both men, and would rather see both fall and go “SLAPT” from the rafters. “NO BRODY!” Melissa cries.

“Ouch, looks like Andrew’s won another one, despicable.” Edwin says, tempted to spit. Melissa gets to her feet, and runs to the Sexton screaming like the maniacs Goths can be.

Hardcastle turns around, as Brody throws a foot backwards aiming for Rickmen’s jewels. However he hits only air, as Andrew is already perched on the top turnbuckle. (And Shawn feels more pressure applied). Shawn throws his body forwards and downwards trying to throw Andrew off. IL at the same time was ready to jump but instead slips back onto the canvas still holding the nelson.

On the apron Melissa acts to drop the kendo stick in frustration, as it hits the canvas and rolls towards Brody.

“Dastardly Clan!” Edwin yells upset.

Shawn erects his arms up, escaping the Nelson and picks up the Kendo Stick. Andrew Rickmen had already taken notice of the kendo stick and ducks as Brody swings it sideways, missing he raises it into the air. Instead Andrew springs upwards, and slams his right foot forward throwing his body out and spraying Black Mist out of his mouth everywhere.

“Dastardly Clan trick!” Edwin yells as Melissa finally hops off the apron ashamed of Brody. “Damn Carnie! Shut up!” Suicide King says, enjoying the cheating.

“I’ve been hearing that a lot.” Edwin comments with a snicker, then a quick rub of his goatee.

Brody grabs his eyes stumbling backwards, but he (smartly) grabs the bottom of his shirt and wipes his eyes, and most of the mist. But there is still enough to sting left. With blurred vision for IL’s victim the two men grapple fiercely. Brody knees Insane Luchador to the gut and with fluent and graceful motion hits his Angel Wings. Shawn gets to his feet, giving a small kick to Andrew. He then makes a slit throat taunt to the announcer’s table (and Melissa squeals in delight). Then he walks over to the ropes, getting on them and hitting the taunt again to a chorus of boos. He repeats his pattern for a little bit.

“Yes!” Melissa exclaims.

Andrew Rickmen lays there near motionless, and Brody rolls him to his back, pinning him. All the fans get up, as King and Melissa mark out.

ONE! No motion.

TWO!

THREE! A shoulder is thrown up, but remarkably close to after the three.

“Let his match end…” Axis whines.

Sexton stares down at the two exhausted men, but Shawn gets up to his feet towering over him with a sinister face. Andrew Rickmen’s eyes flutter open, and he sees the Fallen Angel’s back to him. Andrew gets to his feet, yet crouches down and schoolboys Brody! Sexton Hardcastle drops to his stomach, and begins the count.

ONE!

TWO! He raises his hand and slowly drops it again.

THR, no luck for Andrew as Shawn kicks out. Confused as Andrew rolls forwards grabbing the kendo stick. Shawn whips around and sees the wood raised into the air, he regains his balance and throws out a defensive Spinning Heel kick, he repeats it causing Andrew Rickmen to fall. Shawn gets to one knee, using the kendo stick to begin to choke Andrew. He plants it across Rickmen’s throat, and begins to push down hard.

“Hey! I hate IL as much as the next sensible guy, but he can’t be killed in this ring? You know the lawsuits; huzzah… it’d be hell! We had a hard enough time when Lucky died, least he came back due to Venom’s voodoo!” Edwin says half jokingly to chuckles (even from King).

Sexton grabs the loose end of the kendo stick and pulls it out of Brody’s grip (also causing Andrew even more pain). He tosses the stick out of the ring, and Brody pins the gasping Plague.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE, Andrew gets a shoulder up, rolling away from further attacks. Andrew gets up to his feet taking staggering breaths. Andrew steps forward grappling the Fallen Angel. Andrew gets a steel grip on Brody and whips him into the ropes. As Brody comes back Andrew bends his knees leaping into the air leap froging and then lands gracefully turning around to face the re-approaching Fallen Angel. He clenches both fists, and then launches a right-handed jab to Brody’s temple. Shawn feels pain surge through him, then feels extreme pain hit his stomach. Next his ribs feel like they cracked from a kick. Brody tries to remain standing, as he blocks the next kick with his arm but gets a hard straight on punch to the nose. As Shawn falls Andrew leaps into the air going forward and throws out both legs, leg dropping Brody. Andrew makes a pin attempt, and smirks as some blood trickles from Brody’s nostril and the Black Mist flaking.

ONE! Sexton counts.

TWO! Hardcastle makes a fast two… but not too noticeable.

THREE! NO! Brody uses his reserved energy to kick out.

Andrew grabs Brody by the collar of his shirt, and then side steps so he wraps his arms around his waist. Andrew throws Brody back, hitting a German Suplex. However, Andrew locks in the hold, scrambling back up, and he hits a second German Suplex. Andrew struggles from exhaust, yet is able to get back to his feet and he goes to throw Brody over.

“Nice technical display… WHOA!” Edwin exclaims pushing himself out of his seat.

Brody on the last German Suplex landed on his feet yet stumbled backwards. Brody falls to the ropes, taking in jagged breaths.

Andrew Rickmen gets to his feet amazed. Brody rubs the back of his head, and Insane Luchador charges at Shawn.

“Oh, Shawn please finish this poser off.” Melissa whines, and Axis mimic’s her like a four-year-old. Shawn takes a step forward, bending down and causes Andrew to land on his back. Brody then pushes his back upright, and Andrew Rickmen launches, skimming the top rope. Andrew grabs it, pulling himself in, as his body slams into the ropes, and Rickmen looks at the fans, and kind smiles… instead of smirks… the fans don’t boo nor cheer just go silent. Andrew steps into the ring.

“That’s the old Insane Luchador!” Axis comments.

Andrew Rickmen in the ring smiling (not insanely either). Charges at Shawn Brody who turns around after taunting them with the Slit throat taunt.

Luchador leaps into the air, swinging himself around as he headlocks Brody!

“Swinging DDT!” Edwin yells.

Luchador covers Brody,

ONE!

TWO! Shawn is motionless.

THREE! No! Shawn keeping that reserved power pushed Rickmen off.

“Wow! That was close!” Edwin comments, melodramatic with wiping off fake sweat off his forehead.

Shawn gets to his feet, completely dazed. Shawn throws a left hand punch to Andrew’s chin, which connects, and then Shawn follows up with a Roundhouse kick to Andrew’s ribs. Feeling confident he lunges forwards throwing his arm out like a clothesline. Andrew ducks it, kicking Shawn in the gut and fluently head locking him. Then hitting the Evenflow DDT! Andrew Rickmen covers with glee.

“NOOOO!” Melissa yells.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

”GOOD HOLY MAYO ON A SANDWHICH WHICH YOU DIDN’T WANT MAYO!” Axis says confusing anyone else so bad no jeers or comments are at first heard. “Dig” starts as Insane Luchador gets to his feet, kicking Shawn out of the ring. He motions to cut off his music, and then at his beckon gets thrown a microphone. “I’m sorry…” He begins looking like he cares. The fans rise to their feet. “To the JL, to Edwin, to you especially my fans…”

“Thanks?” Edwin says softly and confused. “IL has gone pussy?” King asks.

“That you can’t accept that the True Plague is the beginning of the end to the JL!” Instant boos drown out “Dig” which kicks up again.

“That bloody…” Edwin starts but bites his tongue as Melissa leaves with the Fallen Angel (no pun, ha).

The screen fades to black showing IL doing his entrance taunt and trash being chucked into the ring.

April 18, 2002

As SJL Metal returns from break, we are confronted with the image of Axis, sitting down in a chair in a hospital room. He is looking across at whoever is in the bed. Axis begins to speak as this prerecorded conversation gets underway.

Axis: This is Axis, here at bedside with Ash Ketchum, who is recovering from a brutal attack at the hands of Jake Helmsley. Ash, thanks for the interview.

The shot turns toward Ash. He has several stitches in his forehead, but he seems to be OK.

Axis: Ash... what are your injuries as of now?

Ash: Well, Axis... I suffered a mild concussion, several stitches to the forehead, and *pulls leg out from under the sheets, revealing a knee brace on his left knee* this.

Axis: ...oh...

Ash: Yeah. But I'll be back soon. Don't you worry.

Axis: OK. *pause* Ash, tell us how you feel right now.

Ash turns to the camera, expressionless.

Ash: Like shit. My body's banged up, my girl's been stolen... but you know what, Axis? I can't sit here and cry over it. I gotta keep going. (He grabs the camera) Jake Helmsley, you little f*ck... you thought you could stop me... BUT YOU CAN'T STOP THIS!!! YOU CAN'T STOP THE SENSATION THAT'S STORMING THE NATION!!!! And when I get back, i'll prove it to you. *pause* So... whatcha gonna do, Jake... Whatcha gonna do... WHEN POKEMANIA RUNS MOtHER F'N WILD ON YOU? (He quickly flips the camera, spinning it 90 degrees, but the cameraman quickly regains control over it.) Now listen...

you beat me physically and mentally... but no one can beat me spiritually. I-

Suddenly, the door opens, and stpeping through is the doctor. All freeze and turn to look at him with his shocked expression as he looks for the courage to speak.

Doctor: Umm, sir, you'll have to leave now.

Axis: OK. *pause* Thanks for the interview.

Ash: No prob...

The interview abruptly ends, but suddenly, it cuts to a live shot, a car pulling itno a space. It parks, the engine turns off, and the door opens... revealing Jake Helmsley. In one hand, steel pipe, in the other... flowers? Helsmley looks around, then grasping the pipe, he slides it into the flowers, concealing it to use on Ash later, and with a sadistic grin, walks off to the hopsital...

April 18, 2002

SJL Metal returns from an A-1 Steak Sauce commercial featuring T-Bone's steak-sauce-spitting gimmick ("Don't waste it like this. Put it on steak.") and begins to pan the crowd at Cleveland's Gund Arena. The camera zooms in on such signs as "Three Strykes and Mafia's Out," "Xero Tolerance" and "Scott Keith <3 Erek Taylor" before finally settling on the announce table, where Edwin, Axis and Suicide King sit in their usual arrangement. Edwin is, as always, surrounded by stuffed pandas, while Axis sips a Foster's.

Axis: Welcome back to SJL Metal for this Wednesday night! We've already seen several amazing matches tonight, and there's still more to come! Later on tonight, we'll see the very impressive Stryke face off against Mafia, who's coming off an amazing win against Jacob Helmsley. And, of course, we'll be seeing tonight's main event, a World Title defense by Erek Taylor against the well-rested Xero!

Edwin: And if Xero loses, he'll have to dance in a dress and say he's not worthy! It's no trained panda show, but it'll be great!

Axis: But coming up right now, we have a non-title encounter between the European Champion, "The Superior One" Tom Flesher, and "Deathwish" Danny Williams. These two have faced off twice before, once in a pure singles match that marked each wrestler's debut, and once in a triple threat match with Z that gave Tom Flesher his shot at that very title. What do you think we'll see tonight, King?

King: Well, Axis, there's a lot of hatred for Tom Flesher on Danny Williams' part. These two were behind the infamous T-shirt-burning promo, and when Flesher, green as he was, took out Williams, I don't think Williams ever quite got over it. Then, when Flesher manipulated Z into helping him pin Danny Williams as he put Z in the Crossface Chickenwing, well... Williams was VERY angry. I think all that anger may make Williams a little sloppy tonight, and I'm going to give Flesher the edge. Remember, I know what's going on in the ring. I'm a former SWF World Champion.

Edwin: I'm not so sure about that, King. Danny Williams has worked very hard to improve since the beginning of his career, and we've seen his style open up a lot more over the past few weeks. And like King said, Danny's very angry, which he's very good about channeling into a well-worked, hard-fought win. However, perhaps the most important thing to consider is the NTM factor.

Axis: The NTM factor?

Edwin: It's a non-title match. The champion ALWAYS loses non-title matches! ZING!

Axis: Numerous intangibles enter into the fray, including Danny's protege, "TNT" Taylor Nicholas Thompson. Thompson's a very honor-bound individual, and you have to wonder if he's going to feel obliged to return the favor that Williams has been paying him by helping him win matches. With that, let's go to Funyon.

Funyon: The following is a non-title match scheduled for one fall.

The heavy grinding grooves of Dillinger Escape Plan's "Calculating Infinity" blast over the loudspeaker. The SmarksTron simply says Deathwish in white letters and follows that with highlights of Danny's indie and New Japan matches. Danny comes out on to the platform looking focused. He simply looks around, and shakes his head at the small chorus of boos, fewer than usual tonight. He walks to the ring with a focused, no nonsense look on his face. He gets in the ring and just warms up.

Funyon: From Louisville, Kentucky, and weighing in tonight at 235 pounds, ladies and gentlemen, "Deathwish" Danny Williams!

Williams gives little reaction as the fans give him a mixed reaction. Suddenly, the arena goes dark, and the cheers turn to boos almost immediately.

Funyon: And his opponent........

Over the PA, the opening strains of the Doors' "Tell All The People" start to play. A large X of Pyro sprays out across the curtain, and as Jim Morrison sings "Tell all the people that you see... follow me...." Flesher walks through the curtain posing for the crowd and pointing to his European belt. He struts to the ring confidently in rhythm to the song, occasionally stopping to pose as if soaking in the adulation of a crowd that is, in fact, booing him mercilessly. When he gets to the ring, he takes off the belt and hoists it high in the air, turning around to face each section of the crowd. He slings it over his shoulder and looks expectantly at Funyon.

Funyon: Hailing fro-

Flesher grabs the microphone and shoos Funyon away.

Flesher: Yes, that's right... I'm from Buffalo, New York, and I weighed in at exactly 213 pounds tonight... and I'm not only plainly superior to Deathwish over there, but I'm YOUR one and only European Champion... you know who I am, I love you as much as you love me... I'm "The Superior One," I'm TOM FLESHER!

The crowd boos intensely as Flesher drops the microphone and falls into a double biceps pose. Distracted by the crowd noise, Flesher can't see Williams measuring behind him, and certainly doesn't expect it when Williams nails him in the back of the head with a missile dropkick! Surprised, Matthew Kivell signals for the bell and grabs Flesher's belt as he falls forward. Williams grabs Flesher's head and pulls him back up to his knees before grabbing his arms and locking on a surfboard stretch. Flesher slowly comes to his senses and the pain becomes evident on his face.

Axis: Well, Flesher's certainly paying for a lack of ring awareness on his part at the beginning of the match.

King: The match hadn't even started yet! Williams had NO BUSINESS dropkicking him! That's cowardly and it's cheating! I bet his moral system's all messed up from those drugs he takes.

Axis: King, you know as well as I do that he passed all the drug tests we gave him.

King: There are ways around those. Believe me, I'm quite the partier... in addition to being a former SWF World Champion.

Edwin: I know, I know. I get invitations to your Tupperware parties all the time.

King: Bite me.

Edwin: And your political party, the party of the first part, the party of the second part, the Parti Quebecois....

Williams realizes that he won't gain a submission from his first submission move and steps off to the side, releasing the right arm but keeping the left extended. He drops a stiff elbow onto Flesher's upper arm and falls to the mat, keeping the arm extended in an armbar. Flesher attempts to hit Williams in the head with a palm blow, but Williams is too far off at an angle and so Flesher has no choice but to extend his body and put his foot on the ropes. Williams breaks the hold as Flesher gets back to his feet.

Axis: And Williams is taking control of this one early, already doing some damage to Flesher's left arm. It's clear he's going to set up the Crossface Chickenwing tonight.

Edwin: Well, I don't know if that's going to work on Flesher. He IS from Buffalo, after all, and Buffalo is where chicken wings were invented.

Axis: Why do I even bother anymore...

Edwin: Flesher's also able to counter the Spicey Drop for that very same reason.

Axis sighs and grumbles as Flesher locks up with Williams. Williams, however, refuses to lock up, opting instead to chop Flesher hard across the chest.

WHOO!

and again

WHOO!

and once more

WHOO!

as Flesher backs up to the ropes. Kivell steps in and warns Williams to break, and Williams backs off. As Kivell steps away, Williams spins around quickly and nails Flesher in the jaw with a hard spinning elbow smash, sending him tumbling over the top rope and to the floor. Williams bounces off the ropes and charges, apparently looking for his elbow smash suicida, but grabs the ropes and stops himself before diving out. Flesher, meanwhile, sprawls to the concrete to duck the telegraphed diving strike. Williams sees this and steps through the ropes, then jumps off the apron and nails Flesher with a diving elbow as he gets back to his feet. Williams throws Flesher back into the ring and follows shortly thereafter.

Axis: We're definitely seeing a new side of Danny Williams. He's showing a lot of awareness. Clearly he's been watching films of Flesher's matches and knows what he's going to do.

Edwin: Films? Why yes, we have those at http://www.hotpandaluv.org, where Ling Ling's taking part in some hot solo action. She just turned two last month, so this is the barely legal-

Axis: What on earth is wrong with you?

Edwin: My, we're not very tolerant, are we, Axis?

Edwin fishes around in the pocket of his trench coat and pulls out a small bottle. The camera zooms in and registers that its label reads 'Prozac.'

Edwin: Would you like one of these, buddy?

King: What, did you swipe those from Williams' bag?

Edwin: Nah, I found them in some girl's purse this morning...

King: What?

Edwin: Hey, if she leaves it on my dresser until I wake up, it's legally mine. No backsies.

Williams pulls Flesher to his feet and lifts him into a snap suplex, then floats over for

ONE

KICKOUT by Flesher, who rolls to his stomach. He gets to his feet and faces Williams, who grabs his left arm and spins around to snap the arm over his shoulder, but Flesher hits him in the back of the head with a shotei before he can execute the first armbreaker. Williams staggers forward and turns toward Flesher, who shuffles toward him and executes a Russian leg sweep. Williams hits fairly hard, and Flesher rolls on top of him for

ONE

NO, Williams kicks out and gets back to his feet fairly easily. Flesher lowers his level and shoots in to grab Williams' left leg and pull it out from under him, taking him to the mat. Flesher then twists the ankle and steps over, locking on an ankle lock. He shouts to Kivell...

"ASK HIM!"

Williams shouts back, "NO!"

"ASK HIM!"

"NO!!!"

"ASK HIM AGAIN, DAMMIT! TAP, WILLIAMS, TAP OR I'LL BREAK YOUR F-"

Williams silences Flesher with a stiff kick to the stomach, which forces Flesher to break the hold and doubles him over.

Axis: Flesher was getting pretty fired up there. It looks like he wants to end this one quickly.

King: Of course he wants to end it quickly! What are you, some kind of idiot?

Axis: All I meant was...

King: [mockingly] "Looks like he wants to end this one quickly. Fire is hot. Suicide King is better than me and he was World Champion." Thanks a lot, oh Master of the Obvious.

Williams charges toward Flesher and attempts to set up a DDT, but Flesher counters it by dropping to his knees, grabbing Williams' leg and attempting a takedown. Williams, in turn, counters the single leg with a spinning elbow smash. Flesher takes a backwards fall, and Williams covers him for

ONE

NO, Flesher reaches over and sets his foot on the ropes to break the pin!

Edwin: That back bump brought to you by the fine folks at Nestea. Take the Nestea Plunge!

Axis: Oh, sweet mother of God... not the commercials again....

Flesher gets to his feet and locks up with Williams, then Irish-whips him to the ropes. Williams bounces off and goes for a hooking clothesline, but Flesher moves too quickly for him and nails him with a Doc Marten to the face which stops him in his tracks. Flesher steps in and locks up for a brainbuster, but Williams counters it by grapevining Flesher's leg to stop the lift. Williams grabs Flesher's left arm and attempts to fall into an armbar, but Flesher stops the motion with a light, disorienting palm strike and executes another Russian leg sweep. he declines to go for the cover, opting instead to pull Williams back to his feet. Flesher whips him into the corner and charges in with a low dropkick, smacking Williams' left knee with his Doc Martens. Williams crumbles to the mat and, after one hard kick to the chest to keep Williams in position, Flesher grins sadistically and backs into the adjacent corner.

Axis: We all know what's coming here.

King: God, I love this.

Flesher charges into the corner and boots Williams hard in the face. Williams is too stunned to put up a fight, and Flesher, as always, returns to the corner. He runs in and smacks Deathwish in the face with another boot, and then backs out and nails him with a third hard kick to the face before finishing the series with a low dropkick that nails Williams in the chest. He grabs Williams' legs and pulls him to the center of the mat, pausing to wave to the crowd before lifting the legs up.

Flesher drops an elbow into Williams' left knee, then stands back up and repeats it. After standing back up, Flesher starts to spin into a figure-four leglock. Williams catches him on the spin-through and pulls him into a small package for

ONE

TWO

NO! Flesher is able to break the pin! Williams rolls away and onto his stomach, but Flesher stops him by dropping a headbutt onto him! Unfortunately...

Axis: Um... Edwin, did Flesher just drop a diving headbutt onto the back of Danny Williams' head?

Edwin: Judging by the blank look on his face, I'd say so.

Axis: Flesher, in his attempt to stop his opponent from getting too far out of reach, had forgotten the cardinal rule of headbutting: NEVER HEADBUTT THE BACK OF SOMEONE'S HEAD.

King: See, it's right there in the appendix to the Guide to Being a Heel... "Always observe proper caution when headbutting, as the back and top of the head are especially hard and unforgiving. cf Lady Red, 'Death Knell.'"

Tom Flesher lays on his back, out cold. Williams, however, is no better off. Kivell has no choice but to start his count.

ONE

TWO

No movement by either competitor.

THREE

Williams starts groping around.

FOUR

Williams grabs the ropes and pulls himself toward them.

FIVE

Flesher starts to stir, but only barely. Williams attempts to pull himself up using the ropes, but fails.

SIX

Williams regrabs the ropes and starts to leverage himself up as Flesher raises his head off the mat and starts rubbing his forehead, which the camera shows is now bleeding slightly.

SEVEN

Williams is almost to his feet, and Flesher is holding on to the bottom rope.

EIGHT

Williams finally gets all the way to his feet, dropping an elbow onto the small of Flesher's back to break his progress. Williams grabs Flesher's leg and drags him to the center of the ring. Once there, Williams takes the leg and drops down across Flesher's back, reaching over his face and locking in the crossface to complete the STF. Flesher grimaces and reaches for the ropes, but they're woefully far away. It gets harder and harder to reach for them as Williams tightens his grip.

Axis: Williams has that STF locked right up. Flesher's got no hope of escape!

Edwin: This submission hold and the consequent break in action is brought to you by Palm-brand handheld computers. If a laptop computer just isn't mobile enough... better make it a Palm job!

Axis and King sit in stunned silence for a moment or two.

Axis: Edwin, did you just say-

Edwin: Look in the ring!

In the ring, Flesher is starting to push himself up using his right arm. He succeeds in setting the two of them rocking, which in turn off-balances Williams. Williams attempts to crank the hold further, but Flesher manages to create enough space to break the crossface. Before Williams can lock it back up, Flesher lets his leg go limp and slides out from under him. Flesher sits out and ends up facing Williams. He pauses for just a moment, gives Williams the finger and slides out under the bottom rope to a chorus of boos. On the floor, Flesher points to Williams, performs a "throat slit" taunt, and makes an exaggerated "dusting off my hands" motion while assuming a ridiculously self-satisfied expression. Almost immediately, the crowd picks up the customary chant of "YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE *clap clap clapclapclap*" and Williams looks very pissed.

Axis: Flesher's getting inside Williams' head by taunting him as if he'd actually accomplished something.

King: [turns toward Axis and salutes crisply] Yes SIR, Captain Obvious!

Axis: [grumble] I'm just trying to make things clear for the fans, King.

King: If they don't get it by watching, they probably won't understand it if you use big words like "accomplished" and "by."

Williams goes over to the ropes and bellows for Flesher to come back in.

King: Besides, psyching Williams out won't do any good. His brain's too fried to get inside it.

Williams yells at Flesher to get back in the ring again, but Flesher leans against the guardrail and playfully pretends to yawn. Williams attempts to keep himself under control, but Flesher wipes his brow sarcastically and it's too much. Williams slides under the bottom rope, only to be met with a superkick from Flesher. Williams is obviously stunned by the unexpected blow, giving Flesher the opportunity to go behind him and lock up a waistlock.

Axis: Oh, no, you don't think he'd...

King: Looks like a released German suplex on the floor is in Danny Williams' cards!

Flesher lifts Williams up and starts to arch his back, but Deathwish manages to stop the arching motion with a hard back elbow to Flesher's neck. Stunned by the hard strike, Flesher releases his grip, allowing Williams to plant his feet and take control of Flesher's left arm. He quickly snaps it over his shoulder in an armbreaker and positions himself for another, but looks up and sees Kivell counting "Seven!" Williams rushes back into the ring, and Flesher follows.

Already in the ring, Williams meets Flesher as he enters the ring with an elbowdrop. He grabs Flesher by the left arm and pulls him to his feet, then starts snapping his arm over his shoulder in a series of armbreakers. The crowd counts along and Flesher cringes as he performs

ONE!

TWO!!

THREE!!!

FOUR!!!!

FIVE!!!!!

and finally Williams relents. Flesher instinctively pulls the arm back and attempts to hold it against his body. Williams, however, has other ideas. He chops Flesher in the chest

WHOO!

and uses the momentary distraction to grab his wrist. Williams trips Flesher, taking him down to the mat, and extends the left arm to its full length while bracing against Flesher's torso, securing the cross armbreaker.

As Williams cranks the armbreaker, Flesher reaches for the ropes, first with his right arm, and then with his foot, but is unable to reach them. Finally, he gives up on reaching the ropes and chooses instead to roll over onto his stomach and face Williams. Relieving some of the pressure that way, he gets Williams into the judo "guard" position on his back and throws a hard palm to try to get him to release. Williams releases the arm, and Flesher slides down his body to grab both his legs. With both legs firmly in his control, Flesher stands up and then twists around, locking Williams up in a Boston crab.

Axis: What a tremendous series of counters and recounters by these two! Flesher won that one, but Williams could have just as easily ended up on top!

Flesher sits back as far as he can with the crab, bowing Danny's back. Williams starts to push himself up with his arms, and starts setting Flesher off balance. Flesher attempts to tighten the hold back up, but Williams has created just enough of a release to allow him to lunge forward and grab the bottom rope. Flesher takes the opportunity to sit back and crank the hold as hard as he can, despite Kivell's count of

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

Finally, Flesher breaks the hold to avoid being disqualified. He stands up and backs away to the center of the ring. When Williams gets to his feet, though, Flesher nails him with a dropkick to the knee. Williams takes it hard and falls back to the mat. Flesher pulls Williams to his feet and sets up a brainbuster. Williams stops the lift, though, but pulling Flesher's left arm out of the grip and spinning around to nail a single armbreaker. Controlling the tender left arm, Williams pulls Flesher to the center of the ring and executes a go-behind to set up the Crossface Chickenwing!

Edwin: You have to remember the first time these two met... the brainbuster was the definitive move. You better believe neither one of them is going to get caught.

Axis: I can't believe Flesher keeps going for it.

Edwin: Speaking of going for it, Williams is going to try to end it right now!

Williams gets behind Flesher and reaches around for the crossface. Flesher realizes what's happening and lowers his level, ducking off to the side without breaking the crossface, and completes a go-behind. He lifts Williams high into the air, getting ready to spike him with a backdrop driver... but Williams rolls backwards and comes out on his feet behind Flesher! Williams locks his hands around Flesher's waist, but Flesher reaches down and grabs Williams' ankle, sending Williams to his BUTT on the mat! Flesher makes a wild attempt at an anklelock, but Williams boots him in the back, sending him forward slightly. Williams gets to his feet and sneaks up behind Flesher, then nails him in the back of the head with a spinning elbow smash! Flesher staggers, but Williams locks up a Tiger Suplex! He arches back and throws Flesher onto the back of his neck, where he lands folded in half. Kivell counts

ONE

TWO

THR- NO! Flesher's bent head over heels and his legs are in the ropes! Williams is obviously frustrated! He releases Flesher, who stays bent over until Kivell assists him by unfolding him as Williams mounts the ropes. Flesher slowly gets to his feet, and when he does, he sees Williams attempting a missile dropkick. Flesher instinctively sprawls to the mat, and Williams can't make contact, so he hits the mat with a loud 'thud.'Flesher crawls over and drapes an arm over Williams as Kivell counts

ONE

TWO

KICKOUT by Williams, and both men start to slowly get to their feet.

Axis: It doesn't look good for either one of these wrestlers at this point.

King: Geez, what are you, some kind of detective? I'm running out of ways to say this, Axis.... QUIT STATING THE OBVIOUS.

Edwin: You mean like when he says that the ladies love me more than they like you?

King: Excuse me, Edwin, I'm the former SWF World Champion, the King of Hearts.

Edwin: King of Herpes. Got it.

King: HEARTS!

Edwin: Oh, TARTS. I hear ya loud and clear.

King grumbles frustratedly as Williams and Flesher both get to their feet. Flesher throws a flurry of palm blows and then steps to Williams' side. He headbutts Williams in the ribs to double him over, and then hooks Williams' head and leg. Flesher begins to arch back, only to be brought back to the mat with a small package! Kivell counts

ONE

TWO

KICKOUT! Both wrestlers get to their feet and start trading desperate strikes. Flesher throws his palm blows just a touch harder than Williams throws his chops, but Williams is still able to step in and stun Flesher with an elbow strike. He knocks Flesher senseless for a moment, just long enough to lift him into position for a tombstone.

Axis: Williams isn't in very good position there. Flesher looks to be riding a little high.

King: What did I.... UGH. Yes, his weight's too high, and with that low center of gravity he's not having any difficulty sliding down Williams' back!

Flesher twists and squirms just enough to get himself down Williams' back, but Williams knows Flesher's usual tactic and ducks the oncoming shotei to the back of the head. Sure enough, Flesher throws it and it slides right above Williams' head. Williams slides by Flesher and slaps on a tight full nelson, looking for the Dragon Suplex. Flesher brings his arms down hard to control the hold and springs off the ropes. He falls backwards and lands on Williams, pinning his shoulders to the mat! (Think Bret Hart here.) Kivell counts

ONE

TWO

KICKOUT by Danny Williams, and he releases the full nelson. Flesher beats Williams to his feet and hits him in the jaw with a stiff palm blow, which sends Williams reeling. Flesher grabs him and goes for a brainbuster... and SUCCEEDS! He lifts Williams into the air and stalls... and STALLS... AND STALLS before dropping down and nailing Williams into the mat! He rolls over and covers Deathwish. Kivell counts

ONE

TWO

THR- NO! Williams gets his shoulder up! Flesher looks stunned.

Axis: Look at that! He can't believe that Danny Williams kicked out of that brainbuster!

King: [sigh]

Axis: WHAT?

Flesher gets up and pulls Williams to his feet. Carefully, methodically, Flesher locks up a gutwrench and lifts Williams up, looking for the Ego Buster. Williams forces his weight down, though, and hugs the mat. Flesher tries again to lift him, but Williams denies every chance he gets. Finally, when Flesher relents and releases the hold, Williams grabs him around the waist and arches back in a Northern Lights suplex! Matthew Kivell counts

ONE

TWO

KICKOUT!! Flesher breaks the pin and looks absolutely irate as he charges at Williams, nailing him in the forehead with a stiff palm blow. He grabs Williams and Irish-whips him into the closest corner, then runs in and hits him in the back of the head with a running shotei. Williams is left slumped against the corner, and Flesher, the showman that he is, turns around and golf claps for himself. The crowd picks its "YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE *clap clap clapclapclap*" chant back up again as Flesher plays to them a little more, going out of his way to use Shawn Brody's "throat slit" once more. Finally, he turns back to Williams and sees him still slumped against the ringpost. Flesher reaches around and crosses Williams' arms in front of his stomach, locking up the Straitjacket suplex. Before he can throw the move, however, Williams hooks his legs under the ropes. Flesher tries to throw, but Williams holds fast to the cornerpost. Finally, Tom releases the straitjacket hold and throws another frustrated palm strike to the back of Danny's head. He grabs Williams around the waist in a normal German suplex waistlock and goes for a back-arch, but Williams, on instinct, counters it with a low blow!

Edwin: GALATEA SPE... wait a minute!

King: You're an idiot.

Edwin: I know you are, but what am I?

King: Oh, not that childish bit again.

Edwin: I'm rubber, you're glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you, where it becomes panda food and gradually leeches away your pizzazz!

Williams turns around, still groggy, and whips Flesher into the corner. As Flesher hyperventilates against the turnbuckle, Williams charges out of the opposite corner and executes a beautiful handspring, culminating in an elbowsmash in the corner...

RIGHT AFTER FLESHER DUCKS! Williams connects at full speed with the turnbuckle, and Flesher quickly strikes him with a spinning shotei. He hits two more palm thrusts, one to the temple and one to the jaw, and then backs out to the opposite corner. He runs in at top speed with the avalanche....

and CONNECTS! Williams feels the wind being knocked out of him and looks faint as Flesher seats him on the top rope. Flesher climbs to the bottom rope... then the second... and finally the top. At the top turnbuckle, he throws his hands in the air triumphantly, and the crowd boos as loud as they possibly can. Flesher lifts Williams into the air and falls backwards onto the mat, hammering Williams with the Boilermaker. Williams hits headfirst and tumbles harmlessly to the mat, and Flesher rolls on top of him for

ONE

TWO

THREE!!!!!!!

DING DING DING!!!!!!!!

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, the European Champion, ?The Superior One? Tom Flesher!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Flesher crawls over to the corner and takes his belt, slinging it over his shoulder. He drops into a double biceps pose in the center of the ring as ?Tell All The People? blares over the PA.

Axis: What an amazing match! We?ll be right back with Stryke facing off against Mafia, and after that will be our main event!

April 18, 2002

SJL Metal returns to the air, millions of television viewers once again viewing the sold out Gund Arena. The camera moves across the stands, catching eager wrestling fans desperately jumping around and yelling, doing their best to get their faces on TV. After a quick scan of the crowd the camera switches to one located in front of the announce table, catching the visages of Axis, Edwin MacPhisto and the Suicide King.”

Edwin: “Ahoy mates, welcome back to this swashbuckling edition of SJL Metal, coming to you from the epicentre of all things JL, the Gund Arena. It’s been a frivolously fantastical little shindig so far, but hold onto your seats fans of JL action, there are still two marvellous matches to go. Huzzah!”

Axis: “Indeed Edwin, while the much anticipated World Title Match between champ Erek Taylor and Xero is still to come, right now we have a contest between two of the top stars in the JL, Mafia and Stryke.”

King: “Mafia has picked up a quite a few wins lately, while Stryke was absolutely robbed on Crimson. He should of won the World Title Ladder Match, that blasted pretty boy Erek Taylor cheated.”

Edwin: “How can you cheat in a match where anything goes pray tell?”

King: “I don’t know, but he did. End of story.”

Axis: “Well anyways, after that brutal match Stryke probably won’t be at 100% health, but he’ll have to be on top of his game to defeat Mafia.”

Edwin: “There’s also a bit of history between these two, having successfully tagged together in the past, and they were also both members of the stable Havoc, the last two still in the JL with the departures of Lady Red, Renegade and Sydney Sky. They were once friends, but now they must fight for pride, honour and an extra W to put on their resume.”

King: “Well at least you managed to book a new match for Stryke Edwin, after putting him up against Ash Ketchum 5 frickin times in a row.”

Edwin: “Your just miffed because Stryke lost most of those.”

King: “What! He didn’t lose. He just, um… uh, Ash cheated!”

Edwin: “Right. Well without further ado, lets bring out the gladiators!”

The crowd is cheering in anticipation, but those cheers are abruptly cut off and replaced with savage boos as “Break Stuff” by Limp Bizkit kicks up. 4 blue fireworks blast up from the stage, before 4 silver fireworks blast up from the same spots a second later. Finally, a huge blue flame of pyro blasts up from the middle of the entranceway, and when the sparks and smoke clears, Strkye is standing on top of the entranceway, his arms out in a crucifix position with Karen by his side, the Cleveland fans booing with a passion at the sight of the Showstopper.

Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is set for one-fall. Entering first, weighing 207lbs from Sydney, Australia, STRYKE!!!”

After standing there a moment to absorb the thunderous boos of the crowd, Stryke heads down the ramp and quickly slides into the ring, before making his way to the far ring corner and climbing up, raising his right arm to the fans, resulting in another wave of hatred for the Australian. As the fans boo their hearts out Stryke hops down into the ring and prepares for the match.

King: “Now there’s a real superstar. He should be the JL World Champ right now, but that doesn’t matter, Erek Taylor’s just delaying the inevitable.”

Axis: “Well I think Erek may have something to say about that. But regardless, Stryke can’t be thinking of the World Title in this match, otherwise Mafia will be all over him.”

Edwin: “Stryke’s here, so that means we just need Mafia out here and the fun can begin.”

As if on cue the lights turn out, and "Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck" by Prong hits. As the boos sing forth multi-colored lights flash onto the entry way and ring. Multiple spotlights await Mafia, and finally, he walks out with arms outstretched, palms facing the sky, to loud boos from those in attendance.

Funyon: “Now entering the ring, weighing in at 215lbs, hailing from Denver, Colorado, MAFIA!!!”

Mafia walks slowly down the ramp, seemingly forcing the fans to wait for the match, and the spotlights follow him on his descent. He takes a turn at the bottom of the ramp, and walks up the ring steps, before climbing into the ring. Mafia takes off his jacket and tosses it to ringside before focusing on his opponent.

King: “These fans have no taste. Booing Stryke, booing Mafia, they just don’t realise real talent when they see it.”

Edwin: “Not many people do like them, but they are talented in the ring, and will no doubt put on a commendable contest of chaos and calamity.”

Axis: “Stryke is more of a high flyer, while Mafia likes a more grounded style, utilising submission maneuvers. It should be interesting to see how they go up against each other.”

King: “But they’re both very versatile, Mafia can incorporate a fast-paced lucha style, and Stryke’s no slouch when it comes to submissions and mat wrestling. It should be a very good match.”

As Stryke and Mafia get set to go at it, the referee signals for the bell.

DING DING DING!

Stryke and Mafia immediately move towards each other, forgetting about any taunting and locking up to a cheer from the crowd. The two fight for position, but it’s Mafia that gets on top first, moving Stryke into a side headlock. Mafia cranks on the neck of Stryke, and moves to the ring ropes, pushing off and letting go of Stryke, running across the ring to the opposite ropes. Mafia rebounds back and runs at Stryke with a clothesline, but Stryke ducks under, catching the arm of Mafia and pulling it behind him, locking in a hammerlock. Stryke applies as much pressure as possible to the arm and shoulder of Mafia, but he fights back, using his free arm to nail a series of back elbows to the face of Stryke, breaking himself free. Mafia turns and grabs ahold of Stryke’s arm, whipping him hard towards the turnbuckle. Stryke collides front first, stumbling back right into a rear waistlock from Mafia. Mafia lifts Stryke over going for a German Suplex, but utilising his athleticism Stryke is able to rotate over, landing on his feet. From behind Mafia Stryke pushes him towards the same turnbuckle, Mafia slamming back first into the unforgiving pads. As Mafia hits Stryke runs to the ropes next to him, and as Mafia stumbles forward Stryke runs and grabs him by the head, jumping up and slamming Mafia down with a bulldog.

Edwin: “Woo, a great sequence of wrestling from both men there, but it’s Stryke on top with the bulldog.”

Stryke hops up from Mafia, and with his opponent down close to the ropes Stryke moves to the ropes and jumps onto the second rope, springing back with a leg drop, his leg landing on Mafia’s chest. Stryke then makes the cover, the referee circling into position and making the count.

ONE…

TW… No, Mafia quickly kicks out.

Axis: “A springboard leg drop from Stryke, but Mafia kicks out easily. It’ll take a lot to keep either man down.”

King: “Of course it will, they’re both superior athletes. Boy, I don’t know who to go for in this one, I like both of them.”

Stryke gets back to his feet, pulling Mafia up with him. Stryke starts to unload strong right hands, driving Mafia back with each shot. Stryke gets Mafia back to the ropes, and then whips him across the ring. Mafia bounces off the ropes and Stryke charges in with a clothesline, but this time Mafia ducks underneath. Mafia continues onto the ropes while Stryke stops and immediately turns to go after Mafia, but Mafia quickly hops onto the second rope and springs off the ropes, catching Stryke in the face with a springboard dropkick. A cheer goes up as the move connects hard with Stryke’s face, knocking the Showstopper down. Mafia quickly crawls over and makes a cover, hooking the far leg.

ONE…

TWO…

TH… No, Stryke is able to kick out of the pin.

Edwin: “Well, Mafia matching Stryke as far as quickness goes so far, that springboard dropkick catching Stryke off guard.”

Mafia gets back on his feet, and pulls Stryke up with an armbar. Getting Stryke to his feet, Mafia goes to whip Stryke across the ring, but before he can Stryke rolls forward, trying to escape the hold. Mafia manages to hold onto Stryke, but Stryke knocks the legs out of Mafia, tripping him and dropping him on his back. Stryke slides over Mafia and hops up to his feet, while Mafia does the same. They both get up at the same time and it’s Mafia that gets on the offensive first, launching at Stryke with a clothesline. But Mafia telegraphed the move, and Stryke is able to duck under and drive his shoulder into Mafia’s stomach with a shoulderblock. With Mafia temporarily stunned, Stryke grabs him by the arm and whips him to the opposite ring ropes. As Mafia rebounds back Stryke drops down to the mat and Mafia hops over, continuing on to the next ropes. As Mafia bounces off again Stryke hops back up and sets himself to attack Mafia, but it’s Mafia who is able to take the initiative, coming to Stryke and leaping up, catching him with a Lou Thesz Press. A big cheer goes up from the Gund Arena as Mafia begins to unload a furious barrage of right hand blows to the cranium of Stryke.

Edwin: “A Lou Thesz Press from Mafia! The match continues to go back and forth like a see-saw in the wind.”

After a few more hard punches to the head, Mafia reaches back and grabs the legs of Stryke, pulling them forward and locking in a pinning position.

ONE…

TWO…

TH… No, Stryke is able to push up and roll Mafia back, holding onto the legs and pushing forward, instigating a pin of his own.

ONE…

TWO…

TH… No, Mafia twists his body around and gets his shoulders off the mat.”

Axis: “Wow, pair of very close pins from both men. The advantage continues to switch between each man. Obviously their familiarity with each other means they know a lot of their opponents techniques and moves.”

Both men get up at about the same time, but it’s Stryke who is on his feet a fraction of a second earlier, and he looks to take Mafia off guard, spinning around and launching at him with a Discus Lariat. But just as he reaches Mafia he is up and catches Stryke, getting him in position for a T-Bone Suplex. Mafia goes to snap Stryke over, but just before he can Stryke is able to lift his leg up, driving his knee into the stomach of Mafia, freeing himself from his grasp. Stryke grabs Mafia and whips him into the ropes, and as he bounces back Stryke steps back before thrusting his leg forward in a big superkick, connecting right with Mafia’s jaw with the Heatseeker. The loud SMACK as Stryke foot connects flush with Mafia’s chin draws on ‘ooohhh’ from the crowd, followed by the usual boos Stryke gets after everything he does.

King: “The Heatseeker! Stryke back on top, and it’ll only be a matter of time before he wins.”

Edwin: “Really? Well considering neither man has been able to be on top for any amount of time it’s a tad unlikely that he’s going to pull a win out of nowhere.”

King: “Don’t doubt me you poncy little refugee from Oliver Twist, I’m an SWF World Heavyweight champion, and what I say goes.”

Axis: “Sounds like somebody’s a little full of themselves.”

King: “Quiet, convict boy, you should know you don’t speak to your superiors like that.”

Axis: “I’ll give you superior…”

Axis goes to throttle the life out of King, but Edwin stops him.

Edwin: “Now now now, we can’t have that lads. I’m all for the strangulation of King, but there’s more pressing concerns right now, there’s a match to call.”

King: “Yeah, so keep your filthy convict hands off me.”

As King and Axis continue to exchange glares, Stryke motions to get down and pin Mafia, but instead another idea pops into his head, moving over to the nearest turnbuckle and climbing up.

King: “Now Stryke’s going to the top rope. Looks like we’ll get a chance to see some of his aerial ability in play.”

Stryke reaches the top rope, but before leaping off towards Mafia he lets the crowd distract him, sharing a few key words with the Cleveland fans, who react with a torrent of boos and hatred, Stryke doing nothing to endear himself to the crowd. With the boos raining forth, Stryke turns and leaps off the turnbuckle towards Mafia, extending his elbow for a big Top Rope Elbow Drop. Stryke flies half way across the ring, but just as he’s about to hit his target Mafia conjures up enough energy to roll in the direction Stryke’s coming from, causing Stryke to fly overhead and crash into the mat, drawing a huge cheer from the crowd.

Edwin: “Stryke missed! Obviously taking a bit too much time chit-chatting with the fans.”

King: “Gah, it’s the fans fault he missed. They should just sit in an awed hush at the performance Stryke and Mafia are putting on.”

With Stryke on the mat in pain Mafia pushes himself up to his feet, and moves over to Stryke. Standing behind him Mafia puts his arms around Stryke’s waist and pulls him up to his feet. With Stryke still out of it Mafia lifts Stryke over, slamming him back first into the mat with a German Suplex. As Stryke arches his back in pain Mafia turns around and makes the cover, the referee getting in position and starting the count.

ONE…

TWO…

THR… No, Stryke thrusts his legs up and gets Mafia off him, stopping the pin.

Axis: “A nice German Suplex from Mafia. If he can utilise those suplexes of his he’ll have a very good shot at grabbed what would have to be considered an upset win over Stryke.”

Mafia gets up to his feet, and gives a pair of quick stomps to Stryke, ensuring that he can’t recover quickly. Mafia reaches down and goes to pull Stryke up to his feet, but just as he does Stryke reaches up and grabs the tights of Mafia, pulling him down into a roll up pin. The ref quickly counts the pin.

ONE…

TWO…

THR… No, Mafia is just able to escape the pin.

Edwin: “Wowzers, Stryke almost got the win out of nowhere!”

Both Stryke and Mafia immediately get up, but it’s Mafia on his feet first, and swiftly takes Stryke down with a clothesline.

Axis: “Stryke almost stole a win out of nowhere, but Mafia quickly put a stop to that, hitting a strong clothesline.”

King: “See! I told you they’d put on a great match. You can’t turn away for a second. All the best wrestlers are heels, just like me!”

Mafia takes a quick walk around the ring, obviously frustrated he hasn’t been able to get on top by now. To compound his frustration the Cleveland fans start up a ‘Mafia Sucks!’ chant, which Mafia doesn’t react well to at all.

King: “No! He does not suck! Stupid Clevelandians.”

With ‘Mafia Sucks!’ chants raining down on him he just has to ignore them, moving back to Stryke, who is just starting to get to his feet. Stryke stands up and turns towards Mafia, but is immediately met with a hard right hand to the face. Mafia follows up by grabbing Stryke and whipping him into the ropes closest to the entranceway. Mafia sets himself to hit a move when Stryke rebounds, but Stryke grabs hold of the ring ropes, stopping himself from rebounding back. Mafia moves in to get back after Stryke and Stryke charges off the ropes with a clothesline, Mafia ducking underneath and getting onto the ropes himself. Stryke turns and runs in towards Mafia, but Mafia delivers a kick to the mid section, stopping Stryke in his tracks. Still next to the ropes Mafia grabs Stryke for a Belly to Belly Suplex. With Stryke prone Mafia lifts his opponent up and tosses him over the top rope. Stryke tumbles to the outside, glancing the apron before crashing head first onto the concrete floor. The crowd nearby all stand and look at the fallen Stryke, a big ‘ooohhh’ emanating from the crowd as they see Stryke land head first.

Edwin: “Oh my, Stryke landing right on his head! That’s a frightful bump on the noggin if I ever saw one.”

Stryke is on the floor writhing in pain, clutching at his head and neck, the referee moving to the ropes and leaning down, checking to see what condition the Showstopper is in. Karen too moves around, checking on how Stryke is.

Axis: “Stryke could very easily have been injured there. If he can even continue Mafia should be able to take advantage of this situation.”

The referee checks on Stryke, but is quickly pushed out of the way by Mafia, who wants to get on with the job. Climbing through the ropes, Mafia drops to the floor and lifts the hurt Stryke up off the floor. Mafia takes Stryke around to the side of the ring, and quickly whips him into the steel guardrail, Stryke smacking back first. Not giving Stryke a moment of respite, Mafia again grabs him and this time whips him into the side of the ring, Stryke’s back connecting hard with the apron edge, collapsing to the floor. Seeing the referee making a 10 count for Stryke and Mafia being out of the ring, Mafia slides back into the ring, stopping the count before sliding back out again.

King: “Mafia’s clever, he smells blood and he won’t stop until he gets the win. He’s beaten Mike Van Siclen and Jacob Helmsley in the last week, and if Mafia wins here against a top star like Stryke it’ll have to garner some respect for the Denver native.”

Edwin: “Well your right as rain there, a win here would confirm Mafia as a big time contender in the JL.”

Mafia again pulls the weakened Stryke up to his feet, and holding Stryke with his right hand he runs towards the ring steps, tossing Stryke head first into the steel steps. A loud CLANG echos out as Stryke’s skull meets metal, again causing the Australian to drop to the floor clutching his head. After doing this Mafia finally takes heed of the referee’s calls to get the match back in the ring, and picks Stryke off the floor, rolling him back under the bottom rope.

Axis: “That toss into the steel steps won’t do anything to help Stryke, compounding whatever injury he may already have.”

As Karen looks on concerned Mafia rolls back into the ring, moving to the downed Stryke and laying on top for a pin.

ONE…

TWO…

THRE… No, Stryke still has enough left to kick out, much to Mafia’s displeasure.

King: “Stryke isn’t finished yet! There’s still some fight left in the next JL World Champ.”

Mafia gives a frustrated stare at the referee, before pulling Stryke up to his feet. Holding Stryke still, Mafia raises his right arm up before driving an elbow down into the neck of Stryke, the sharp pain driving through the neck of Stryke causing him to once again drop down to the mat. Mafia isn’t satisfied though, pulling Stryke up again, only to deliver another elbow to the back of the neck, sending Stryke back to the canvas.

Edwin: “Mafia really working away on the neck of Stryke. With several of his moves head and neck based Mafia is really setting Stryke up nicely here.”

King: “Mafia is one of the premiere mat and submission workers in the JL, and he looks like he’s setting up to prove it.”

Mafia pulls Stryke up a third time, but instead of going for another elbow Mafia takes Stryke and whips him hard into the corner turnbuckle. Dazed and in pain, Stryke collides front first and stumbles back, right into a kick to the spine from Mafia, stopping him in his tracks. With Stryke in trouble Mafia looks to finish Stryke off, grabbing him from behind and pulling him back, locking in a Dragon Sleeper! The crowd all get to their feet, sensing the end for one of their most hated individuals.

Axis: “The Dragon Sleeper! The same move he used to defeat Jacob Helmsley on Crimson, and it could get him another win here!”

Edwin: “That move puts so much pressure on the head, neck and back of Stryke, the very things Mafia’s been working on, Stryke will need a miracle to escape here.”

Mafia cranks on the hold, Stryke flailing in trying to escape, but with Mafia locking it in he cannot. Despite his fighting Stryke starts to fade, the match obviously having taken its toll on Stryke.

King: “Mafia’s got him! As much as I like Stryke Mafia’s too much for him today. Go Mafia!”

As Stryke continues to fade Mafia puts even more pressure on the hold, pulling down towards the mat for even more leverage on the move. The referee is asking if Stryke wants to submit, but despite the tremendous pain Stryke fights for all his worth. In one final desperate attempt to escape the hold Stryke pushes down on his legs before springing up with all the energy he can muster, lifting himself vertical in the air, before dropping down on his feet behind Mafia, getting his arm around Mafia’s neck. Before Mafia can do anything Stryke drops down on his stomach, pulling Mafia down in a reverse DDT. Even the normally very anti-Stryke fans applaud the impressive nature of the escape.

King: “What an amazing reversal! You don’t see pretty boy Erek Taylor pulling anything like that out. Go Stryke!”

Edwin: “Go Stryke? You were just saying Go Mafia a few seconds ago!”

King: “Well they’re both just so good I can’t decide who to go for.”

Both Stryke and Mafia are down on the mat, both feeling the effects of the match. The referee goes to start a 10 count, but it’s not needed as the former Havoc members both start to pull themselves up. Mafia tries to get back on top of Stryke with a right hand punch, but Stryke gets a forearm up and blocks it, before going on the attack himself, forcing Mafia back with a series of right hand shots. Getting him onto the ropes Stryke takes Mafia and whips him across the ring to the opposite ropes. Mafia bounces off and runs right into a kick to the stomach from Stryke. Stryke looks to quickly follow up, hooking Mafia and going to lift him up for a vertical suplex. But just before he can Mafia is able to deliver a collection of stiff shots to Stryke’s mid section with his free arm, breaking him off. With Stryke temporarily seeing stars Mafia runs to the ropes to get a head of steam, but just as he hits the ropes Stryke’s manager Karen reaches in, tripping Mafia up. Mafia stumbles forward towards Stryke, who is able to regain his senses enough to catch Mafia in position for a rock bottom. Stryke lifts Mafia up and slams him into the mat with the Breakdown, Stryke’s signature move resulting in boos of fury from the Cleveland fans.

Axis: “The Breakdown! After being on the verge of losing a few moments ago Stryke’s now on top of this contest, with an assist from Karen I might add.”

Stryke gets back up grasping at his neck, the earlier onslaught by Mafia still affecting him. But the pain isn’t significant enough to stop Stryke once again venturing over to the corner and ascending the turnbuckle.

Edwin: “Stryke again going up top. He didn’t have much success last time, but that’s not going to stop the suicidal nature in him from coming out.”

Stryke gets to the top and ignores the insults and jeers of the crowd, instead facing into the ring and leaping off with all his might, spinning horizontally 360 degrees before coming down on top of Mafia with a high impact splash, the Star Cross. The move hurts both Mafia and Stryke, but Stryke ignores his pain and just lies on top of Mafia for the pin.

ONE…

TWO…

THREE… NO, Mafia is able to turn his body weight and get his shoulder off the mat, partially helped by Stryke’s weak pin.

Axis: “Incredible airtime from Stryke, landing the Star Cross. But Mafia ain’t about to quit yet, both men showing tremendous fight.”

Edwin: “It’s been a bloody brilliant display of delightfulness from both men. A good old fashioned wrestling match, without any of those new fandangled toys like ladders, cages or flaming manatees. Almost brings a tear to me eye it does.”

Stryke pulls himself up to a standing base again but can’t immediately follow up on Mafia due to how much the move took out of himself as well. After taking a moment to walk off his pain Stryke moves back over to Mafia, lifting him up off the canvas. Stryke sets Mafia in position, bending him over, before placing his leg over Mafia’s head in position for a fameasser, his finisher the Recoil.

Edwin: “The Recoil! If Stryke hits this then you can stick a fork in this match, it’ll be done.”

With the crowd on their feet Stryke jumps up to drive Mafia face first into the mat, but Mafia is able to push up, standing up and sending Stryke falling back. But utilising his athleticism Stryke is able to rotate back and land on his feet. Stryke tries to get back on the offensive, lunging at Mafia with a clothesline. Mafia’s ready though, greeting Stryke with a big roundhouse kick, knocking Stryke flat on his back. Mafia isn’t settled with that though, picking Stryke up and putting his leg over Stryke’s head for a Fameasser of his own! This time no mistake is made, jumping up before driving Stryke face first into the mat. Mafia rolls Stryke over and hooks the far leg for a pinning predicament, the crowd cheering loudly, not so much for Mafia’s move as for Stryke getting planted into the mat.

ONE…

TWO…

THREE… NO! Stryke somehow kicks out, drawing on all his energy to do so.

Axis: “Oh so close for Mafia, although that move would do yet more damage to Stryke’s head and neck, so Mafia will no doubt continue to go after that area, perhaps attempting another Dragon Sleeper.”

Mafia gets to his feet, and reaches down, pulling Stryke up into another attempt at a Dragon Sleeper. Mafia tries to lock it in, but Stryke is aware he most likely won’t be able to escape a second one, and so fights with everything he can muster, blocking Mafia from locking it in correctly. Mafia continues to try and maneuver Stryke into the hold, and finally does, but instead of holding on instead rolls to the side, snapping around and sending Stryke back to the mat with a Roll the Dice, the Redemption.

Edwin: “Goodness Gracious, if Stryke’s neck wasn’t in trouble before it sure is now. The torque from the Redemption must be incredibly painful.”

King: “Both men continue to amaze, Stryke managing to fight the Dragon Sleeper a second time, but Mafia’s able to even the score with the Redemption. At this rate the match could go on all night.”

Mafia gets to his feet, deciding not to go for a pin. Grabbing hold of Stryke’s arm he pulls him towards the ring corner, positioning Stryke for Mafia to go up top.

Axis: “It looks like Mafia’s taking a note out of Stryke’s book, heading up top. This could either prove a costly error or win him the match, but that’s why they call it high risk. Well, that and the chance of breaking your neck with some of the crazy moves these guys like to pull out.”

Mafia hops through the ropes and scales the turnbuckles, stepping up each pad until he’s up at the top. Standing facing into the ring, Mafia spins his hands around, signalling he’s going for the Shooting Star Press.

King: “Mafia’s going for it all, this move takes incredible ability to perform, but when Mafia pulls it of it’s with deadly proficiency.”

Mafia looks to leap off, but right before he can Stryke lunges out, hopping up to one knee and knocking the ropes, causing Mafia to lose balance and crotch himself on the top.

Edwin: “Jeepers creepers, right in the mommy-daddy button! That’ll leave a sour taste in your mouth.”

As Mafia leans forward in mind-numming pain Stryke is able to stand up and get Mafia on his shoulders. Pulling away from the corner Stryke has Mafia in a Fireman’s Carry, from which he quickly spins around and drops down, taking Mafia down with a diamond cutter, Stryke’s finisher the Overdrive.

Axis: “The Overdrive! An error from Mafia leads the end for him, there’s no way he can kick out of that.”

Stryke, very tired and sore, drapes himself over Mafia for the pin.

ONE…

TWO…

THREE!!!

DING DING DING!

“Break Stuff” hits, signalling Stryke from the winner. Stryke quickly rolls out of the ring, Karen helping him back up the ramp.

King: “What a match, but Stryke just able to win it with the Overdrive. But there’s no shame in loss for Mafia, with a super effort.”

Axis: “Absolutely King, we’ll be back right after the break.”

April 18, 2002

Back to Metal, being hosted by the Gund Arena in Cleveland…just like it is seemingly every week. Mafia and Stryke had wrestled a singles contest which saw Stryke go over on Mafia…

“(Axis) ..Shouldn’t there be a match between Xero and Erek Taylor for the SJL Championship right about now?”

“(Edwin) Yes, I believe there should.”

“(King) Not that I like either of ‘em, but Xero had best beat Taylor into the ground.”

“(Axis) Should be a great match...”

The camera switches away from the Announcers, and into the backstage area as Mafia…the Hitman, the Savior himself, sits in front of his dressing room, leaning forward in a chair with head buried in his hands. He suddenly sits up and looks into the sky as the camera swings in front of him. With a cold glare into the lens, the sweaty and exhausted Mafia stands from his folding chair, and grips his hands around the legs, picking it up and folding it into the compact position. With a sudden and quick movement, Mafia hurls the chair towards the camera-man, causing him to back up out of range, away from the largely unstable Mafia.

“(Axis) What could be going through his mind?”

“(King) No telling. But he just lost to Stryke for one, so perhaps he’s merely upset at not being able to pick up the win against his former Havoc ally.”

Mafia backs away from the camera-man, emerging into his dressing room. With the lights darkened, the fans in the arena think to themselves what’s going to happen, in fact, they know what’s going to happen…

“(Anonymous) Mafia, Mafia. Mind if I have a word with you?”

“(Mafia) I just came off a loss to that son of a bitch, Stryke. I don’t quite feeling like speaking at this moment.”

“(Anonymous) But you’ll want to speak with me….A few weeks ago, in a fit of rage, you lashed out against me, when I was simply attempting to do what any person in my position would…”

“(Mafia) I have an idea of who you are. No need to shadow yourself---”

With a sigh, the man responds to the request of Mafia, switching on a lamp in the corner of the room, allowing the once hidden face to be seen.

“(Mafia) Xero.”

“(Axis) Business is about to pick up.”

“(Edwin) Where have I heard that line before?”

The fans in the arena cheer, finally receiving the payoff from the segment. Mafia stands aware and prepared, as the shadowy form of Xero is shown leaning against the wall. As Xero begins to speak, the camera-man walks into the doorway, filming the showdown.

“(Xero) It was you who clocked me with the brass knux, and threw me off the side of the stage, for no damn reason, except to take it out on me for your mistakes in the match. You never take responsibility for your own career. From day one in the federation, you’ve done everything you can to get ahead, but have accomplished nothing. During your paranoid, psychotic stage, you attempted to break Josh Tupper’s ankle; NOT to mention delivering the ConChairTo multiple times to Flexxx after he decided to try and shut your big mouth so long ago. And you accomplished nothing from that, except to have your bitch leave you a short time later, sort of makes your fight for her against Flexxx seem worthless. These blunders from the man who was once spectacular. In CMLL, in NJPW, in M-Pro, in CZW, in NWA, everywhere you traveled, you were hailed as the next big thing. You slip on your precious weapon, and you think it makes you invincible. But what I’ve just seen minutes ago is the worst, you lose one match to Stryke no doubt due to stupid mistakes, and suddenly you sit out there practically crying, and snapping at the camera-man in the process.”

“(Axis) He’s got his number there.”

“(Mafia) You think you know me so well, but I could say the same for you. I mean, how long exactly have you been here? Anyway, nice little rant you’ve put together there, but you have a match to be getting to against Erek. After this stunt you pulled, you shouldn’t be surprised if I cripple you for good either in a few minutes, or during your match.”

“(Xero) That won’t be happening. You see this object on my hand? It’s your very own secret weapon, stolen from your bag. You come after me, I’ll take one swing with this and knock you flat on the ground.”

Mafia takes the bait, and he chages Xero, taking him down by the legs and laying into him with quick right hands. Xero raises a knee and Low Blows Mafia, causing him to roll away from his attacker. Mafia turns around just as Xero picks up a chair and takes a swing, knocking Mafia over the head and forcing him to fall to the carpeted floor. Xero takes another swing with the chair, aiming for Mafia's head, as Mafia rolls away, reaching for his gym bag under a table. He struggles frantically for capsules of Black Mist, but as he does, Xero connects with the chair, putting a stop to Mafia. Knowing he has the upper hand, Xero crouches down over Mafia and goes ballistic with his right hand, which happens to be the hand wearing the brass knuckles. After repeated shots by Xero, out of sight from the camera-man, he finally stands and backs away, revealing the extremely bloodied face of Mafia. Xero backs out of the room with a smile on his face, as the fans cheer him for finally giving Mafia what he deserved. The camera-man comes into the room, and walks over towards Mafia, hovering over him, and getting a shot of the out-cold Hitman, beaten at his own game.

“(Axis) Oh God. Xero has snapped, if you’re just joining us, and he has taken out his assailant from a few weeks ago, Mafia. After watching this, no telling what could be in store for Erek Taylor in his Championship Match against Xero….”

April 18, 2002

The SJL Circus goes west, not to the rough streets of Los Angeles, not to the billionaire haven of Seattle. West about 500 miles to the state of Ohio, where the infamous Gund Arena lies. SJL Metal is the show tonight and as the scene fades back in from commercials, these Cleveland fans leap to their feets, throwing their arms into the air, shouting and pouting as loud as they can.

The cameras are raised into the air and they magnify their lenses, zooming across the stage to bring the viewers at home a live picture of the Gund Arena. The Cleveland fans raise their homemade signs into the air in a desperate attempt to get on TV, but since only the main event is left on the card, the editors censors all the words and flusters the 17,000 in attendance.

"(Axis) Welcome back to SJL Metal and a fine show we have had tonight."

"(Edwin) Well, in my opinion, Crimson was at a higher level but I mustn't complain."

"(King) Yes, complaining is bad. Edwin, you're bad. BAAADDDD!!!!!"

"(Edwin) ...*sobs* Okay!! I confess! I was the one who stole your coffee!"

"(King) Of course you did. But since this is TV, I'll wait til after the show to kick your a**!"

"(Axis) Okay you two, save it for Xero's birthday party."

"(Edwin) Let's get to work, shall we?"

"(Axis) What the hell do you think I've been doing?!?! Folks, in this matchup set up by the JL Veteran Xero a week ago, Erek Taylor, who came out of Crimson still the Champion, will take on Xero with the title on the line!"

"(Edwin) Not only that but there's special stipulations applied. If Xero wins, he's the new Champ! But if he loses, he has to dance in a dress while chanting 'I'm not worthy' on Metal. That's gotta be embarassing."

"(King) You dance in a dress every Sunday..... this makes Xero look normal."

"(Axis) Enough chattering, let's send this to Funyon!"

Funyon stands gracefully in the center of the squared circle, his trusty microphone by his side as loud static disrupts the PA system. The fans cover their ears until finally, "Zero" begins to play. The crowds give a mixed reaction, partly because some want to see a good joke. Nevertheless, Xero steps out from the back. While walking down the ramp, the JL Veteran halts to a stop before pointing to the air in a Babe Ruth pose, igniting the plethora of pyrotechnics behind him!

"(Funyon) The following match is scheduled for one fall and is for the SJL WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!!! Introducing first, the challenger, from Port Colborne, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at 204 pounds........ XEEEEEEEERRRRRROOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!"

Once and again, the crowds give another mixed reaction. Xero takes none of the heat in and instead, poses for the fans that actually give a damn. Xero begins pacing from left to right, right to left, waiting for the Champion to appear. He waits no more as the lights in the arena dim to a haunting black. "Toxicity" begins to play, just as a missile projectile swoops down from the sky, crashing into the ramp and igniting the massive pyrotechnics as well as the hard rock beat of "Toxicity"! Smoke and mist conceals the curtains but no matter, as the lights return to normal, the shadow of Erek Taylor blazes down the ramp.

"(Funyon) AND HIS OPPONENT!! From Anaheim, California, weighing in at 205 pounds, he IS the SJL WOOOORRRLLLLDDD CHAMPION!!!!! Erek...... TAAYYYLOOOORRRRR!!!!!!!"

The crowds unite in countless numbers, cheering at the top of their lungs and shaking the very foundation of the Gund Arena. The volume of the fans is off the charts, forcing Funyon to turn off his microphone to prevent any more noise. The Champion mindlessly spins around, the World Title draped on his shoulder....

.....

and immediately, Xero rolls out of the ring and darts up the ramp, drawing first blood with a punch across the face!!

"(Axis) And Xero's wasting no time to get this thing started. The longest JLer ever is taking it to the High Flying Prince!"

"(King) Dear lord, they both suck. Get me some decent wrestlers to watch before I fall asleep."

"(Edwin) That's it! BLOCK THAT!! BLOCK THAT!!!"

Xero delivers another right but Taylor dodges it, moving to the side and grabbing hold of his title belt before thrusting it forward!

CLANG!!

Taylor collides the belt with Xero's face, forcing the veteran to start staggering back towards the ring. Taylor drops his belt and races down the ramp, the momentum pushing Xero into the ring and officially starting the match!

***Ding ding ding!!!***

Mark Hebner begins officiating as Erek Taylor slides into the ring, rising up and laying kick after kick to the gut of Xero. The Champion pushes Xero up to his feet in a hurry, grabbing hold of the veteran's wrist before hurling him to the ropes. Xero rebounds and goes for the counter clothesline but Erek Taylor ducks under and shoves Xero to the opposite ropes. Xero rebounds again and once more, tries for the counter move. Unfortunately, Erek Taylor decides to take air, leaping forward and performing a dropkick that forces Xero to the ropes. Taylor flips to his feet and lunges forth, swinging a huge right arm that sends Xero stumbling out of the ring and to the mat below!

"(Axis) Taylor taking control early with his adrenaline and his excitement. But those two factors don't win matches!"

"(Edwin) Exactly why Taylor's getting in some offense as fast as he can. King, aren't you even going to comment?"

"(King) I sure am. Taylor should have took out Xero with some more offense before he sent him out here. Stupid kid."

Xero rises to his feet, immediately pummeled back with a right to the face. The veteran instinctively fights back, throwing a hard right that fortunately lands on Taylor's arm. Taylor gets knocked a bit to the side and Xero begins to shift, lashing out with a hard chop across Taylor's chest.

"(Crowds) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!!!!!!"

Xero moves in for another attempt but Taylor beats him to it and retaliates with a chop of his own.

"(Crowds) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!!!!!!"

Xero grimaces in pain but sucks it up and brings a palm falling down on Taylor's chest. The crowds responds with another "OOOOH!" as Taylor staggers back. The Champion catches his footing and immediately lunges forward, driving a knee into Xero's gut, knowing that he cannot win a match by just exchanging rights. Taylor grabs Xero by the wrist and hurls him over to the pole. Anticipating the manuever, Xero counters the whip, pulling Taylor in and swinging a right arm at the High Flying Prince, knocking the Champion to the ground with a clothesline!

"(Axis) Xero with a great counter move!"

"(King) God damn, these two guys are as stupid as rocks! Xero should have countered with a whip to the pole!"

"(Edwin) I agree."

"(Axis) And circle takes the square!"

Xero grabs Taylor by the hair, dragging the Champion to his feet before rolling him back into the ring. The JL Veteran slides in, immediately crawling over Erek Taylor and hooking the leg for the cover.....

.....

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THR- and Taylor shoots a shoulder up! Xero brings Taylor up to his feet before measuring the Champion and decking him with a right hook. The Veteran pummels Taylor with another right, a third, a fourth before grabbing him by the wrist and whipping him to the corner. Xero moves in and thrusts his shoulder forward, driving it into Taylor's midsection. Xero drives another shoulder, staggering the Champion forward. Xero swings a hard right, hoping to catch another break but Erek Taylor regains his balance and ducks under before swiftly leaping into the air, flooring Xero with a spinning heel kick!

"(Axis) Taylor with those lightning fast kicks that he is so famous for!"

"(King) Puh-leeze, I've seen faster from the fat boy at McDonald's!"

"(Edwin) Was that the day when you thought the ugly fat girl over the counter was Britney Spears?"

"(King) Sadly, yes."

Taylor races to the ropes, bouncing off and gaining leverage before leaping into the air, performing a senton splash on Xero! The High Flying Prince rises to his feet, dragging Xero up along with him before connecting with a hard right. Erek Taylor moves in, delivering continous rights and forcing Xero to the ropes before grabbing hold of Xero's head and pulling it down into a jawbreaker! The impact sends Xero stumbling backwards to the corner where Taylor capitalizes with a dropkick to the chest. Taylor flips back up to his feet and rushes in full force, swinging a hard forearm forward and colliding it with Xero's head! The JL Veteran falls on his behind, his hands covering his face as Taylor gains momentum, squaring up before leaping into the air, delivering a dropkick to the downed Xero!

"(Axis) Dropkicks galoore, performed by the High Flying Prince himself."

"(Edwin) That's going to hurt Taylor's a** a lot!"

"(King) No kidding!"

Taylor rises to his feet, grabbing hold of Xero's wrist and bringing the veteran up as well. The High Flying Prince whips Xero to the ropes and on the rebound, slides on the ground and brings an elbow across Xero's shin, tripping the veteran to the ground. Taylor grabs hold of Xero's hurt leg before raising it into the air, measuring it and driving an elbow into its thigh! The High Flying Prince brings Xero up to his feet before decking him with another hard right. Instantaneously, Xero retaliates, pummeling Taylor back a few steps with a ferocious right. Xero moves in, beginning to rain down hard rights and lefts to the temple of Erek Taylor before grabbing his wrist and whipping him towards the corner. Taylor staggers forward, arching his back in pain as Xero drops to a crouch. Xero quickly circles his arms around Taylor's waist and hoists the Champion into the air, flipping him backwards and performing an awesome belly to belly suplex!!

"(Axis) Nice move by Xero! Nice timing and with the nice result!"

"(King) All belly to bellies have good results, you nimrod!"

"(Edwin) Hehe, he called you a nimrod."

"(King) I call you a dimrod."

"(Edwin) That's not funny."

The impact of the suplex rolls Taylor on his stomach and Xero tries to capitalize, moving in and locking his legs underneath the Champion's legs. Xero delivers a chop to the side of Taylor's body, forcing his reflexes to send Taylor's head popping forward, allowing Xero to grab hold of Taylor's head with ease. Xero immediately forces in the hold, locking in the Mexican Stretch as Erek Taylor begins to grind his teeth in pain! Mark Hebner steps into play, immediately asking the ever so stubborn Erek Taylor for submission. Taylor refuses and pulls away as hard as he can, ripping his arm away from Xero's grip. Xero tries for the same chop to the side but Taylor rolls over on his back, preventing Xero from locking in the Mexican Stretch. Taylor begins to pant, breathing in heavily as he tries to catch his breath. Nevertheless, Xero continues his assault, dragging the Champion to his feet and grabbing hold of his wrist before throwing him towards the ropes.

"(Axis) Xero locks in the Mexican Stretch, a virtually very painful manuever."

"(Edwin) It's lucky that Erek got out of it quickly because if he stayed any longer, he would have passed out."

"(King) That's because he's weak."

Erek Taylor leaps into the air almost instantly, combining his hands for full strength. Xero ducks the Adelphia clothesline and spins around, shooting a kick forward that staggers the High Flying Prince back. Xero moves forward and swings a hard right, connecting it with Taylor's chin. Xero grabs Taylor by the wrist and whips him to the ropes and on the rebound, leaps into the air. Xero quickly locks his legs around Taylor's head before drilling it to the canvas with a Headscissors takedown! Xero scrambles and crawls over Erek Taylor before pulling the leg up and hooking it for the pin.....

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THRE- OOOH! Erek Taylor kicks out once more, infuriating the JL Veteran. Xero rises to his feet, bringing the young fighter up with him before pummeling him back with an elbow to the face.

"(Axis) Headscissors Takedown. Splendid manuever performed by Xero but sadly, it wasn't enough to put the High Flyin' Prince away for good."

"(King) They both suck. I need some coffee."

"(Edwin) Me too."

"(King) Don't walk with me. I don't want to be seen with you."

Xero connects with another elbow and prepares for another assault but Erek Taylor suddenly lunges forward, driving a knee into Xero's gut. Xero doubles over in pain as Taylor grabs hold of the veteran's head before planting it to the canvas with a spinning neckbreaker. Xero holds his head in pain as Taylor immediately positions himself on Xero's back, grabbing hold of the veteran's leg and pulling it backwards, applying the Single Crab! Hebner gets in front of Xero's face, urging the challenger to submit but Xero has been through too much and refuses, grinding his teeth to relieve the pain. Xero immediately begins crawling for the ropes, Mark Hebner guiding him on the way. The JL Veteran stretches his arm forward but the ropes are still a feet away!! The pain is beginning to become unbearable and Xero knows he can't take this any longer. With Mark Hebner by his side, Xero pushes himself to his knees, relieving some pressure on the leg. Taylor tries sitting back down again but Xero reacts quickly, shooting up his free leg straight into the crotch of Erek Taylor!!

"(Crowds) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!!!!!"

"(Axis) Low Blow!!! Desperation low blow!!!"

"(King) How can a senior official be so dumb?"

"(Edwin) His back was just turned, let it go."

Erek Taylor releases Xero's leg and begins holding his groin in pain as he drops to his knees and collapses on the canvas. Xero grabs hold of the ropes, using them to pull himself back up to his feet. Xero turns around and lays a cocky kick across Taylor's chest. Attempting to amplify the damage, Xero places his foot on Taylor's face before twisting it in distortion! Taylor grimaces in pain, his feet kicking the canvas for relief. The JL Veteran brings Taylor up to his feet before grabbing hold of his wrist and hurling him to the ropes. Xero bends down for a back body drop but Taylor swiftly brings a boot up, popping the veteran to his upright position. Erek Taylor squares up and dives forward, tackling Xero to the ground with a stomach tackle! The two combatants slowly rise to their feets, with Xero being the quicker. Xero races towards a recooperating Erek Taylor, hoping for an easy kill. Taylor instinctively leaps forward, colliding with Xero's chest and pushing the JL Veteran to the ground. Once there, Taylor circles his right hand around Xero's neck, taking out his windpipe while delivering continous lefts in a frenzy!

"(Axis) FLYING MORALE!!! The punching and choking combination!!"

"(King) OH MY GOD!! He still sucks!!! Give me something better."

"(Edwin) OH MY GOD!! YOU'RE TOO COCKY!!"

"(King) There's a reason they call me the Suicide King....."

"(Edwin) Because you want to suicide?"

"(Axis) OH HO HO!!! He got you there."

Taylor continues punching but Xero's determination brings the veteran inspiration. Xero breaks Taylor's grip and pushes the Champion down! Xero backs away as Taylor quickly rises to his feet, diving forward and swinging a hard right. Xero ducks under and circles his hands around Taylor's waist before flipping back, planting Taylor square on his shoulders with a German Suplex! Xero doesn't let go, pulling the Champion up to his feet again before nailing *another* German Suplex! Xero pulls the Champion up again and tries hoisting Taylor into the air, but Taylor starts struggling, shooting back unaimed elbows. Some of them land, some of them miss, but the ones that hit send Xero stumbling to the ropes. Taylor spins around, squaring up as Xero staggers forward. Erek Taylor quickly traps the veteran with a Full Nelson Hold before hoisting him to the air and planting him to the ground with an sitout atomic drop!! Taylor crawls over Xero and hooks the leg for the cover......

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THRE- OOOOH!!! Xero somehow shoots a shoulder up in the nick of time, saving his chances for the win.

"(Axis) Full Nelson Drop!! But Xero kicks out!!"

"(Edwin) Close, too close. Wait, was that your line?"

"(King) Sure was. That means you'll have hell to pay later."

Taylor brings Xero up in a hurry, grabbing the veteran by the wrist before hurling him to the buckle. Xero counters and pulls Taylor in, immediately grabbing the Champion by the waist and attempting another belly to belly suplex. Xero flips Taylor over but the High Flying Prince manages to land on his feet, immediately racing towards the turnbuckle. Xero rises to his feet, surprised that the attack didn't work and rushes towards the Champion, who leaps up on the turnbuckle. As Xero comes racing in, Taylor mindlessly leaps into the air, turning back into the ring and performing a dropkick..... STRAIGHT INTO XERO'S FACE!!!

"(Axis) What magnificent aerial ability!"

"(Edwin) Hehe, he makes you look slow. Eh, King?"

"(King) I won't dignify that with an answer."

Xero staggers to his feet, hiding his face in pain as he wanders around the ring. Taylor grabs Xero by the wrist and whips him straight into the corner. Xero loses his footing and stumbles over, tripping off the ropes and falls to the mat below! Erek Taylor rolls out of the ring and walks forward, grabbing Xero by the head before cannoning him straight into the barricade, where the front row fans quickly pounce forward, patting the JL Veteran on the back. Taylor swings a hard right and connects, knocking Xero over the barricade and sending the veteran crashing to the concrete on the other side. Xero slowly rises as the Champion quickly leaps up on the thin rail. The crowds part as Erek Taylor jumps into the air, hooking his legs around Xero's neck before drilling it down into the ground with a headscissors takedown!!

"(Axis) Erek Taylor with the retaliation Headscissors!"

"(Edwin) Sadly, this one hurts more than the one Xero performed. This one was on concrete."

"(King) Actually, it's just hardwood so it doesn't hurt as much."

Taylor rises to his feet, dragging Xero with him and tossing the veteran back to ringside. Taylor hops over the barricade, avoiding all the prying hands of the female fans. Erek Taylor grabs Xero by the hair, bringing him up to his feet before throwing him at top speed into the announcer's table, knocking the table a few inches to the right! Xero holds his head in pain as the High Flying Prince brings Xero up to his feet and rolls the JL veteran back into the ring before sliding in himself. Xero immediately shoots a foot forward, knocking it across the face of the rising Erek Taylor, stopping the Prince indefinetly. Xero staggers to his feet, knowing that the tables have turned and pushes Taylor to the corner.

"(Axis) Xero trying to grab some momentum here. He needs to get some submissions on because that's his game. You can't win against Erek Taylor by racing him."

"(King) Yes, but you can outsmart him. Just stick a foot out and bam, you just tripped the lil kiddo."

"(Edwin) Hey, isn't that how I beat you?"

"(King) Grrrr......"

Xero dives in, thrusting a shoulder forward and driving it into the midsection of Erek Taylor. Xero brings the Champion forward before planting him to the canvas with an armdrag, following up with an armbar. Taylor grimaces in pain, exhausted and empty on gas. He knows he can't play Xero's game, immediately thrusting fists into Xero's face, breaking out of the armbar. The combatants rise to their feet, lunging towards each other with a snarl on their faces. Taylor ducks under Xero's grip and shoots up a fist, driving it into Xero's midsection, doubling the JL Veteran over. Taylor combines his hands and brings it slamming down hard into the back of Xero, flooring the veteran.

"(Axis) Xero trying for the armbar but the Champion breaks out with ease."

"(Edwin) WHOO! I WANT XERO TO WEAR A DRESS!!"

"(King) I also do for the humiliation of Xero."

Xero slowly rises to his feet, only to get pummeled with a hard right. Erek Taylor moves in, forcing Xero to the ropes before grabbing on to his wrist and hurling him to the ropes. Xero rebounds and leaps into the air almost instantaneously, dropping Taylor with a lariat! Xero immediately rises to his feet, bouncing off the ropes and dropping an elbow into Taylor's body. Xero grabs the Champion by the hair, bringing him up to his feet, measuring him up and decking him with a hard right! Xero moves in and delivers another right, a third, a fourth, a fifth before capping it off with a kick to the gut! The kick doubles Taylor over, allowing Xero to step forward and plant the Champion to the canvas with an evenflow DDT!

"(Axis) Evenflow DDT!! Great move by Xero!!"

Xero hooks the leg for the cover....

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THRE- OOOH!!! Erek Taylor kicks out, forcing Xero up to his feet in an instant. The JL Veteran quickly drops to his back, hooking his legs around Taylor's legs and locking it up. Crossing it into a pattern, Xero pulls on it, putting extreme pressure on the Champion's shin. THE FIGURE FOUR LEG LOCK!!

"(Axis) Figure Four! Xero going back to the submission game now."

"(King) That's where his strength lies and he should continue doing that."

Xero begins pulling down, watching the Champion grimace in pain as the crowds begin to chant "Erek! Erek!". The JL Veteran continues cranking up the pressure, forcing Erek Taylor to consider the only option available: give up the title. Taylor stubbornly refuses, shaking his head in a hurry as Mark Hebner begins to ask for submission. Taylor tries reaching for the ropes but in his place, even a few inches is too far. Taylor tries desperately to clamp on to something, so to prevent Xero from pulling him back to the middle.

"(Edwin) Uh oh! I think the Champion may be in trouble."

"(King) What an obvious observation of your stupidity."

Taylor stretches his arm as far as he can and circles his hand around the bottom rope! Mark Hebner immediately begins to order Xero off but the veteran wisely pulls Taylor back to the middle and applies the Figure Four Leg Lock once more. Xero begins falling on his back, each time amplifying the damage twice the normal amount. Taylor cries out, his face now bulging out, reddening by the moment. Taylor begins slamming his fist into the canvas, trying anything to relieve the pain.

"(Axis) Xero's still got that lock hold on!! Erek Taylor better act fast or this one's over!"

"(Edwin) NOOOO!!"

"(King) No is right. I want to see a dress on Crimson!!"

With no intention of giving up, Erek Taylor lets the pain be and falls on his back......

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THRE- Erek Taylor shoots his body forward, forgetting that the Figure Four Leg Lock serves as a pin as well! Xero begins to grin, shouting out insults to the Champion, reminding him of the bitter taste of defeat. Taylor shakes his head in agony, knowing that although the stats don't show it, he's got more to lose than just a title!

"(Axis) Erek Taylor almost forgot there and look at Xero, he's smiling!"

"(King) He should be.... for now. Watch as I wipe that smirk off his face!"

"(Edwin) Calm down King."

Taylor thinks fast, reacting with pure determination as he places both his hands on his right side and begins to push. Erek Taylor pushes his body on to its side with ease and with only a half turn left, Taylor rolls over on to his stomach, putting all the pressure on Xero! Xero screams out in agony, immediately reaching for the ropes as fast as he can. Taylor shouts as well, this time not in pain but as a proof of vigilence. Xero stretches his arm forward and circles it around the bottom rope, causing Mark Hebner to force the hold to discontinue. Taylor slowly rises to his feet and lunges towards the staggering Xero, laying a chop across his chest!

"(Crowds) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!!!!!"

Taylor delivers yet another chop. SMACK!

"(Crowds) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!!!!!!"

Erek Taylor grabs Xero by the wrist and hurls him to the ropes!

"(Axis) Erek Taylor counters the whip and now he's on the offensive!"

"(King) We may have a chance of seeing Xero in a dress, after all."

"(Edwin) Boom bada boom boom boom!!!!!"

Xero rebounds with force, the speed carrying his arm forward like a torpedo! Xero grins, as if he knows what's going to happen next. But as the JL Veteran begins to draw near, Erek Taylor ducks under the arm and grabs Xero by the wrist before hoisting him into the air. Taylor dives forward and plants Xero to the canvas with a diving spinebuster, drawing deafening cheers from the crowds!! Taylor quickly grabs Xero's legs, positioning it into a "V" formation before crossing it up and spinning around, immediately applying the Sharpshooter Leg Hold! Frustration and anxiety begins to appear on Xero's face as he screams like a madman and tries reaching for the ropes. The fans begin to chant "Girlie! Girlie!" and such others for the sheer thrill of reminding Xero what fate has in stored for him if he loses. Hebner begins to ask for submission but Xero doesn't have time to deal with this nonsense, stretching his arm even further to try to at least touch the ropes!

"(Axis) SHARPSHOOTER!! TAYLOR NAILED THE SHARPSHOOTER!! XERO'S REACHING FOR IT!"

"(King) NO! DON'T REACH! I WANNA SEE YOU IN A DRESS!!"

"(Edwin) PANDAS!!!!!!!"

Xero stretches his arm as far as he possibly can and plants it down hard, right around the bottom rope!! Hebner pushes Taylor off Xero, causing a irate and frustrated Taylor to fight back. Taylor shoves Hebner straight into the turnbuckles, warning that no referee should ever start a fight. Taylor grabs Xero by the hair, bringing the veteran up to his feet before delivering a kick that doubles him over! Taylor drags Xero's head in and begins to wrench the head as the fans prepare themselves for the Fame and Fury! But Xero breaks free, still some fight left in him. Xero spins around and grabs Taylor, who is still facing the other way, by the head before pulling him down and planting him to the mat with a reverse X Factor! Both combatants slowly rise to their feets, both in obvious pain.

"(Axis) FAME AND FURY COUNTERED!!"

"(King) Haha!! That's a good one Axis!"

"(Axis) What'd I say?"

"(Edwin) You said countered."

"(Axis) Huh?"

The two speedsters lock eyes before locking up in the middle, trying to overpower the other for position. Now pumped with the desire to win, Xero breaks Taylor's grip and shoves the Champion to the buckles, causing the steel pole to intervene with the back of Taylor's head. Erek Taylor staggers forward but sucks the pain up, ducking under a Xero clothesline and spinning around, shooting a foot up and swinging it across Xero's face!! Xero gets knocked hard towards the buckle, staggering forward while his head still remains in Teletubbie land. Taylor swiftly moves to the perpendicular ropes, bouncing off and grabbing Xero by the head before pulling it forward, planting him to the ground with a one hand bulldog! Xero rolls on to his side as Taylor quickly rises and grabs Xero by the legs, placing it into a "V" formation and applying the Sharpshooter Hold once more! The pain surges through Xero's body like electricity, waking the veteran up in an instant. Xero starts fighting back, not allowing Taylor to fully complete the hold, struggling as much as he can. Xero rolls over on his back and pulls one leg away, immediately pressing it against Taylor's back and shoving the Champion to the ropes. Xero pops up to his feet and as Taylor comes racing in, Xero leaps up on Taylor's shoulder, holding on for his dear life as he spins a full circle before pulling down hard, planting Taylor's head to the ground with the Tornado DDT!! XERO STYLE!!!

"(Axis) XERO GRAVITY!!! Xero just nailed XERO GRAVITY!!!"

"(King) Well that's obvious!!"

"(Edwin) I'm going to be like King and say 'No kidding!'"

The fans gasp in shock as Xero begins crawling over Taylor's body. And with one last breath, Xero places one arm over, initiating the pin......

.......

ONE!!!!!!

TWO!!!!!!!!

THREE- OOOOH!!!! HE KICKED OUT! HE KICKED OUT! Taylor shoots an arm up just in the nick of time, surprising everyone from here to Bangkok! Xero covers his head in disappointment, knowing that Xero Gravity should have finished this junior but didn't! Xero slowly rises to his feet, bringing Taylor up with him. Grabbing hold of the High Flying Prince's wrist, Xero hurls him to the ropes. Taylor comes running forward as Xero leaps into the air. But Xero mistimes his jump, allowing Taylor to drop down on his back. Taylor desperately presses his feet forward and luckily, nails the Monkey Flip on Xero!! Xero staggers up, holding his back in pain as he slowly stumbles forward. Taylor quickly rises and hops on Xero's shoulder, grabbing hold of Xero's head before twisting into a 180 degree turn and falling backwards, pulling Xero's head with him and planting it to the ground with a Tornado DDT!! The crowds roar with approval!!

"(Axis) XERO GRAVITY BY EREK TAYLOR!! THE HIGH FLYING PRINCE SHOWING HE CAN FLY WITH ALL PEOPLE!!"

"(King) Hell no! Not me! He can't fly with me! I'll bust out my pistols and shoot him out of the sky!"

"(Edwin) SYNERGY!!!"

Taylor rises to his feet, looking down at the battered Xero before heading to the corner. The crowds rise to their feet in anticipation, waiting for a dose of Synergy! Taylor leaps up on the top rope and jumps high into the air. Taylor quickly turns so he faces the opposite side before falling back over, nailing the Moonsault!! A Twisted Moonsault, that is!! The move that people know as SYNERGY!!!! Taylor crawls back over Xero and hooks the veteran by the leg....

ONE!!!

TWO!!!!

THREE!!!!!

***Ding ding ding!!!***

The Gund Arena literally explodes in volume as "Toxicity" begins to play and Erek Taylor raises his hand in triumph!

"(Funyon) The winner of this match and *STILL* SJL WORLD CHAMPION....... EREK!!!! TAAAAAYYYYLLLLOOOOOORRRR!!!!!!!"

Mark Hebner drapes the title belt on Taylor's waist, giving the Champion some time to recooperate and giving him some time to cover his ears.

"(Axis) EREK TAYLOR HAS DONE IT!!! HE RETAINS!!"

"(King) YES!! Time to go shopping, Xero!! Because you're going to have to wear mascara, wear a dress, dance around, and say you're not worthy!! WOOHOO!!"

"(Edwin) Is this possible? Is the great Suicide King cheering for the High Flying Prince?"

"(King) I am ashamed to say, yes. Only under these circumstances, however. I will no longer cheer for him again."

"(Edwin) Okay. XERO'S GOING TO WEAR A DRESS!!"

The editors bring up the SJL Copyright Information at the bottom right hand corner, displaying it as the scene slowly fades to black and finishes off with the SJL Logo.

"The End"

April 18, 2002

Summary--no bold story breakdowns tonight, me sleepy! Card up soon courtesy one white-out stealing bastard

Frost wins the Battle Royal, just barely edging out Vanguard! One of the closest matches I've read in a while--to have to read matches in the card-opener over and over again promises a bright future for these guys!

TNT is the new TV champ, in another amazingly close match! It took King forever to decide this one, and that's why the show's so late...yeah, that's it...they'll believe that, won't the--awww, crap.

Poisyn wins. He's poisynous. Shortly after, Randy Turner goes on sabbatical.

Ced and Z work together to write the best match ever. I love you guys. You make a Carnie proud.

IL IS BEINGZ THE TRUE PLAGUE!!!1! with a win over Brody.

Flesher adds a Deathwish shaped notch to his growing record.

Stryke defeats Mafia in a humdinger...

...and Xero gets his beatdown on on Mafia! Poor Mafia! Nonetheless, Erek Taylor has a successful title defense against Xero, who's gonna be wearing a dress!

Damn fine show. Sorry I can't recap it better. SLEEEEP!

SJL Metal - Wednesday, April 17th

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