SWF LOCKDOWN!!!

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Seconds after the opening antics of SWF Lockdown, the shows theme pounds out from the speakers, hitting every corner of the Richmond Coliseum! The crowd is wild with enthusiasm, but unfortunately not one sign is witty enough to be mentioned, hence we move to our announcing team…

 

“Welcome to SWF Lockdown, Citizens,” exclaims our Masked Hero, “and we are coming at you LIVE from the SOLD OUT Richmond Coliseum in Virginia! We have one SMASHING show line up for you folks and you will get to see it all brought to you by me…CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET~!”

 

“Ahem?”

 

“Ah yes,” mutters Comet. “How could I ever forget; you will also get to cringe at every remark brought to you by this buffoon next to me, Bobby Riley.”

 

“Call me what you will, Comet,” replies Bobby, “just don’t call me late for dinner!”

 

“…”

 

“What?”

 

Comet shakes his head disgustedly. “That…that was just awful,” he says. “Anyway, folks, TONIGHT you will get to see John Duran put his money where his mouth is as he puts up or shuts up with the World Title on the line against none other than Danny Williams!”

 

“You can say what you will about my hatred towards Danny Williams,” adds Riley, “but I just don’t think he’s quite ready to step up to the World Title level just yet.”

 

“I hope you’re not trying to set some kind of a trend for the entire night; that’s two in two minutes already,” Comet says, rolling his eyes. “Danny Williams has been the World Champion once before, you dolt. He’s going for two-timer tonight, and I think he’s going to get it!”

 

“Oh, he’s going to get it alright, and in the exact same spot as Tom’s going to-”

 

But before Bobby can finish his statement the lights drop out and “Y.O.U.” begins to pound across the Richmond Coliseum, signaling the coming of the Tag Team Specialist to a ROAR of cheers!

 

“WILD!”

 

“DANGEROUS!”

 

Their name blast onto the Smarktron™, one at a time before…

 

BOOOOOOOOM!!!

 

A row of pyro rips across the front of the stage, nearly ripping it to shreds and leaving a smoky haze in its wake! After a few seconds the smoke begins to diminish, revealing two men standing atop the stage – Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous!

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” booms Funyon, “please welcome to the ring at this time…WILD AND DANGEROUS!”

 

“This is a pleasant surprise,” says Comet. “We haven’t heard a peep out of these two since Battleground. I wonder what could possibly be on their minds?”

 

Wildchild and Johnny make their way down towards the ring, casually slapping the few out-stretched hands in front of them but their usual passion is surprisingly absent. Talking the long route, they climb the steel steps to enter the ring then step inside the squared circle. Johnny strolls towards Funyon, requesting his microphone. Of course, the Announcer is more than happy to hand it over.

 

“It looks like the Barracuda is going to be speaking for the team this evening,” notes Comet. “Heavy thoughts must be brewing.”

 

“What do you expect,” ask Riley. “I mean come on; Wildchild has to carry him through ever tag team match they do, you can’t expect the Caribbean to take on the load for these little speeches either now! You have to give Wildchild’s back some rest.”

 

Johnny steps to the middle of the ring, gazing out at the cheering crowds while adjusting the Cruiserweight Championship belt on his shoulder. He looks towards his partner, the Wildchild, and receives a nod from him before raising the microphone to his lips.

 

“Please,” says Johnny, with a faint smile. He waves the crowd off, hoping to settle them down so he can deliver his message. “Don’t get me wrong now…Wildchild and I do LOVE to hear all of your cheers, but after Battleground,” his shoulders slump down and he lets out a feeble sigh, “we…don’t really deserve it.”

 

“He’s got that right,” spits Bobby, as the crowds let out a hearty boo for Johnny’s remark, “only I don’t think they ever deserved it to begin with!”

 

“About a month ago,” continues Johnny, “Wild and Dangerous were the Tag team Champions. We were on our way to becoming one of the best tag teams ever in the Smartmark Wrestling Federation, only to be stopped dead in our tracks by…Janus… ”

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

“…and the Black Angel, Aecas!”

 

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!

 

“Look at this,” snaps Riley. “He’s trying to put a wedge between the Tag Team Champions as if there wasn’t a big enough one already!”

 

“Please,” replies Comet. “Johnny is doing nothing more than pointing out the simple facts, now will you hush!”

 

Johnny nods his head, acknowledging the defeat he and Wildchild took. “Yeah,” he says, “they beat us good, and beat us fair. However, Wild and Dangerous took back the titles one show before Battleground in a ladder match against Mike Van Siclen and Todd Cortez. We went into Battleground as Tag Team Champions, and gave it everything we had. In the end, though, it was Terrence Bailey and Aecas that emerged from the battle with the Tag team Titles once again. For that, beating us twice, they deserve all the credit.”

 

”Well, at least he gives credit where credit is due,” says Bobby. “Wild and Dangerous couldn’t hope to stand up against the power of Janus!”

 

“During the mix of all this,” continues Johnny, “someone’s bitter emotions finally shined through…someone by the name of Mike Van Siclen.”

 

The crowd boos at the mention of Van Siclen, forcing the Barracuda to take a breather. He looks towards Wildchild, offering the microphone, but the Bahama Bomber declines the suggestion and points back at Johnny to continue.

 

“Mike… I know your sitting in the back listening to this, and probably plotting how your going to win the Hardcore Gamers Championship, then go on the Low Carb diet for a week and challenge me for the Cruiserweight Championship, but for now…listen to me.”

 

 

“I knew this was coming sooner or later,” adds Comet.

 

“How DARE you accuse Wildchild and myself of holding you back when we were all a team, particularly Nic here. You say that it was Wildchild and Wild and Dangerous that stole your spotlight every time it started drifting your way, and that no matter how much you did here… No matter how much you accomplished… the only name you ever heard was… Wildchild.”

 

A cheer breaks out, and Johnny rests his hand on his partner’s shoulder before continuing.

 

“First off, let me just say that if you want to accuse Wildchild here of refusing to help you out as a team, well you are seriously misguided! Never, and I mean NEVER have I met someone, TEAMED with someone that would give every last BIT of energy, and give EVERYTHING they had for the team like Wildchild has! Dare I say it, but without him…Wild and Dangerous would be nothing more than just another team, and maybe if you Mike, maybe if you would have stuck around a bit longer instead of taking one of your frequent disappearing acts Catch-22 would have been something greater!”

 

“He’s got that right,” says Comet. “After Annie Onita…err Beezel left, Mike Van Siclen ran off too, leaving just Wild and Dangerous. How can he blame them for that?”

 

“Well if you had half a brain under that mask, maybe you’d know,” snaps Bobby. “Maybe Mike left because he was tired of putting up with the larger than life egos from these two clowns! Johnny’s doing nothing more than talking out of the side of his face here.”

 

“I guess the whole point here is, Mike,” says Johnny. “That if you want to blame someone for you not being successful, then why don’t you take a look in the mirror. Believe me when I say, I have been there, done it, and realized it. What did I do, I’m sure your asking…well me personally, I have busted my ass left and right in this ring. I put everything I had into making myself someone, making myself better, I trained every spare minute I had…and when I did, the crowd starting taking note as well, and I was able to become the SWF Cruiserweight Champion and this is just the beginning!”

 

“What’s the point, he still sucks!”

 

“Will you let the man speak,” scolds Comet, “I know he’s got me interested.”

 

Wildchild pats the Title belt on Johnny’s shoulder, giving his partner the thumbs up as the crowd cheers on.

 

“However, you want things handed to you on a silver platter,” Johnny continues. “You dipped into that platter by pinning Ann Onita for the Tag Team Championship. You couldn’t even beat the Champions, no you had to go after a beaten woman, and also… another former teammate. Then you got your wish, didn’t you? You were going to get your mystery partner and show Wild and Dangerous what Tag Team wrestling was all about, well…I’m still waiting to see you produce this promise as you couldn’t hold onto the belts when we faced in that Ladder Match, now could you? When are you going to prove how vicious you are, Mike, huh? When?”

 

“RAAAAAAAAAH!!”

 

“Johnny Dangerous is asking for an ass kicking here,” says Riley, “and I mean BIG time. It’s so sad that Wildchild will follow him right into that beating.”

 

“By whom,” quizzes Comet. “Mike Van Siclen and Todd Cortez weren’t able to get the job done last time, what makes now any different?”

 

“Because…they changed their entrance music, that’s why. They’re a more formidable team nowadays I hear.”

 

Though not quite audible, Wildchild’s lips can be clearly read of him saying: “Dat’s right, dat’s right.”

 

“Anyway, I think you kind people have heard his name mentioned once too much this evening already,” says Johnny. “You’ll have to put up with him wrestling later on, so let us move on…or back rather…back to where Wild and Dangerous lost the Tag Titles at Battleground. The best thing to come out of this is that finally…we can have the match that was meant to be in the beginning. The match that SHOULD have happened the first time Terrence Bailey and Aecas defeated Wildchild and myself for the Tag Titles, which is the Black Angel and Janus versus Wild and Dangerous for the SWF Tag Team Championship!”

 

Another cheer echoes out at the mention of the proposed tag team match, and Johnny FINALLY hands off the microphone to Wildchild.

 

“Dat’s right,” adds the Bahama Bomber, nodding his head. It’s more than obvious that hes a little worked up and anxious at the same time by his expressions. “And in a straight up tag team match. None of dis’ Psychological Warfare or In Crowd…oh excuse me ‘Hollywood Boulevard’ tossed in da’ mix, but rather, two teams…four men…wit da’ tag team belts on da’ line, and no other belt on da’ line either. If Janus and Aecas are up to da’ challenge… I say we get dis’ on at Smarkdown! If we are able to win da’ belts back, save all da’ cheers for then; that’s when we will have earned it!”

 

With that Wildchild hands back the microphone to Funyon and the two men slide out of the ring as “Y.O.U.” begins it’s second round for the evening.

 

“And you’ve heard it hear first,” says Comet. “Wild and Dangerous have made the challenge to Terrence Bailey and Aecas for the rematch that should have happened before Hollywood Boulevard was able to take the belts away from them.”

 

“Where’s the Hollywood Boulevard rematch at,” ask Bobby. “Why should Wild and Dangerous get another shot?”

 

“Because the FANS want to see this, Robert, it’s as simple as that,” replies Comet. “Stay tuned, Citizens, we have more excitement on the way!”

 

Wildchild and Johnny make their way towards backstage, this time, however, their arms are raised out to the crowd…

 

 

 

 

As we:

FADE OUT

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Comet: "We're sorry for the delay, folks!"

 

Bobby: "Yeah, Chris Raynor SUCKS!"

 

Comet: "...Here we go!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

SWF Lockdown Wednesday May 5th!

Venue:Richmond Coliseum in Virginia!

 

 

MAIN EVENT

SWF CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH

Danny Williams vs John Duran

Danny has been patient, and now he faces the new world champion. Nothing else to it. Just raw energy and power.

Rules: Standard match, DQ and Counout apply.

 

Todd Cortez vs Nathaniel Kibagami

Kibagami made some boasts about being the next world champion. He’ll face Todd Cortez, who may be a diamond in the rough.

Rules: Standard match, DQ and Counout apply.

 

OFFICE BRAWL

#1 CONTENDERSHIP TO THE USJL TITLE

Landon Maddix vs Austin Sly vs Stryke vs Insane Luchador vs Jacob Helmsley

We need to shuffle some papers. So here is what will be done. These guys will be in the SWF offices, and stacks of paper will be present. If you are put through a stack of paper, you are eliminated. Winner gets a shot at Coy and his USJL belt.

Rules: See description. No DQ.

 

Ann Onita vs Dace Night

Ann’s sister deserted her for another man. Distraught, she looks to take out FEMININE RAGE on Dace Night.

Rules: Standard match, DQ and Counout apply.

 

HARDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH

Jimmy Liston vs Mike Van Siclen

They’re gonna bleed!

Rules: Do what now?

 

Alan Clark & Coy West vs Janus & Aecas

Crazy tag partners that can’t get along! The Trinity is no more, but these two have the belts. The match is non-title. What... could... possibly... happen?!

Rules: Standard match, DQ and Counout apply.

 

Crow vs Tom Flesher

Tom’s got a new bitch. Crow has a bitch, I think, but I can’t remember. Maybe she’s dead. Or not. I dunno. Crow does a lot of drugs.

Rules: Standard match, DQ and Counout apply.

 

Spike Jenkins vs Tryst

THEY TOOK OUR JOBS

Rules: Standard match, DQ and Counout apply.

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DURING THE COMMERCIAL BREAK:

 

Mike Van Siclen is speaking on his cellular phone to an unknown party. “This is bull(bleep),” he roars. “How do they get another title shot, just like that?”

 

Mike pauses a few moments, listening to the voice on the other end of the line, before shouting, “That’s bull, and you know it, Zed! We should get that shot before they do!”

 

 

…

 

 

“What do you mean, ‘they’re the number one contenders?’ How the hell do they get to shoot all the way back up to the top like that?”

 

 

…

 

 

“So what? What difference does it make if Wildchild or Johnny weren’t the ones to get pinned? The point is, they still lost!”

 

 

…

 

 

“Oh, this is just sooo typical! I’ve been saying since forever that you guys are biased towards Wild and Dangerous, and this is only further proof that…”

 

 

“???”

 

 

“Hello?”

 

 

“Hello!”

 

 

…

 

 

 

“DAMMIT!”

 

With that, Van Siclen heaves his cell phone across the room. Storming out into the hall, he bumps into Gus Hardy, who is headed towards the cafeteria.

 

“Oops! I’m sorry, Mike,” stammers Gus. “I didn’t see you coming out of…”

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

Before he can finish his apology, the Spectacle knocks him to the floor with a right hand!

 

 

AAAAAH!

 

 

Mike Van Siclen continues to stomp down the hallway, indiscriminately knocking down any person or thing that he happens to walk past, gnashing his teeth as he finds himself drifting towards the parking lot. He grabs a lead pipe he finds leaning by the door, and proceeds to head towards Wildchild and Johnny’s rental car, when he spies something across the parking lot that stops him in his tracks. After a few moments of quiet thought, a look of malicious determination spreads across his face.

 

“You want me to prove how vicious I am, huh,” Mike mutters to himself. “You’re damned sure about to find out…” The Spectacle begins to make his way back inside…

 

 

As we:

FADE OUT

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“And we open up SWF Lockdown with a bang!”

 

“A bang? We are going to have one guy who thinks he is Robin Hood and another who can’t win a match if his life depended on it!” jeers Bobby Riley as he looks at his superhero partner in crime.

 

“Maybe so, but tonight is a very special action packed show! Two titles are on the line as Jimmy Liston defends his newly won SWF Hardcore Gamers Championship against one half of Hollywood Boulevard, Mike Van Siclen.”

 

“The tag team champions Janus and Aecas, former members of the now defunct Trinity are in action in a non-title bout.”

 

“How do you feel about the members of the Trinity calling it quits, Bobby?”

 

“I am extremely happy that Janus separated from those two losers holding him down!”

 

“But he is still tag team champions with Aecas”

 

“Aecas is just jealous of Janus’ talents, and is purposely holding onto the tag team titles to hold Janus down!”

 

“Some insight by our own Bobby Riley. But moving on, tonight’s main event has been building for so long. John Duran, the NEW SWF World Heavyweight Champion, makes his first title defense against none other than Danny Williams!”

 

“At Battleground, Danny Williams laid a challenge down against whoever the champion was. Later that night, John Duran proved he was the better man as he took the SWF World Heavyweight Championship from Charlie Matthews.”

 

“Now tonight, Danny Williams gets his title shot.” Cyclone Comet stops to catch his breath. “But lets start the show with some cruiserweight action, as Tryst takes on the freshly returned “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins!”

 

The camera pans across the arena as the lights dim down. The SmarkTron comes to life, as the video shows lush, green forest. The camera begins to speed through the forest before an arrow meets it head on, signaling for the pyro to go off. The lights in the arena come back on as “Forest” by System of a Down starts playing over the loudspeaker.

 

*Ding Ding Ding*

 

“The following match is scheduled for one fall, with a twenty minute time limit.” Starts Funyon in the middle of the ring. “First, making his way to the ring.”

 

Tryst walks out from behind the curtain and stops under the green strobe light shining down from the top of the arena. Tryst holds the boy in his hand up in the air, as he begins to make his way down the ramp.

 

‘Weighing in at a total of Two Hundred and Eighteen pounds. Hailing from Bairnsdale, Britain. He is “The Sherwood Fable”! He is Tryst!”

 

Tryst makes it to the ring and slides in under the bottom rope. Tryst hops up to his feet and heads for the corner. Tryst climbs the middle rope and holds his bow in the air for the cheering fans.

 

“And his opponent!” booms Funyon.

 

As Tryst hops down from the corner and hands a crewmember his bow, blue strobe lights begin flashing around the arena. “Not Today” by Hotwire starts up over the loudspeaker as “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins appears at the entrance ramp.

 

“Weighing in at a total of Two Hundred and Twenty-five pounds. Hailing from Hollywood, California. He is “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins!”

 

Spike charges down to the ring and slides in under the bottom rope. Spike jumps to his feet and heads into the corner. He hops onto the middle rope, raising both arms in the air.

 

“The crowd seems to be torn on who to cheer for.”

 

“I’ll help them out figure that one out. Neither! They both suck!”

 

“That is your opinion, Mr. Negativity!” as Cyclone Comet gets a comeback on his announcing partner.

 

Spike leaps off the middle rope onto the mat; He peels off his jacket and tosses it outside of the ring, allowing the referee to signal for the bell.

 

*Ding Ding Ding*

 

Both men walk out of their corners into the center of the ring. They size each other up, before respecting each other with a handshake.

 

“ Both men respect each other with a handshake.”

 

“Respect? They are going to pound on each other in a few moments.”

 

Both men back away, and begin to circle around the ring. Spike dives in towards Tryst, and locks in a collar-elbow tie up. They both struggle, but the stronger Spike gets the go behind with a hammerlock.

 

“Spike starting off with a basic hammerlock on the high flying Tryst.”

 

Spike pulls back on the arm, forcing Tryst to struggle to find a way out. Tryst feels around before unleashing a back elbow into the side of Spike’s face.

 

 

*Smack*

 

 

 

 

*Smack*

 

 

 

Two elbows to the head stun Spike, allowing Tryst the chance to flip Spike over with an arm drag takedown. Spike lands hard but jumps back to his feet, only to meet a standing dropkick by Tryst! Spike stumbles back to the mat, and quickly escapes under the bottom rope to the safety of the floor.

 

 

“Tryst takes the early advantage using his speed!”

 

“How is that handshake doing you now Spike, you loser?” mocks Bobby Riley in his most sarcastic voice.

 

“Ever since Spike’s knee injury that kept him out for three months, there is no way Spike can match speed with Tryst.”

 

“Yeah, Tryst is fast. But I hope is he is fast enough to slip and fall onto his big head.”

 

“It looks like he might be. I think Tryst has something in mind.”

 

As Spike collects his thoughts together on the outside, Tryst gets ready to launch himself in the ring. Spike turns towards the ring, as Tryst bursts off full steam towards the ropes.

 

“Suicide Dive!” yells an excited Cyclone Comet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

… But Comet’s prediction doesn’t come true, as Spike meets Tryst at the ropes with an elbow to the head!

 

 

 

 

 

*Crack*

 

 

 

The elbow catches Tryst off guard and sends him backwards to the mat.

 

“Ha! You were wrong, Comet.”

 

“I guess I was. Spike saw the suicide dive coming, and hit Tryst with an elbow midway during the move!’

 

Spike quickly slides into the ring and up to his feet. Spike grabs at Tryst, lifting him to his feet. Spike grabs Tryst by the wrist and pulls him straight into a clothesline.

 

“Short arm clothesline by Spike that sends Tryst to the mat!”

 

Spike dives onto Tryst for the cover.

 

 

 

 

One…!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two…!

 

 

 

 

 

 

T…no! Tryst kicks out!

 

 

“Spike Jenkins seems to be using a new style tonight. He usually uses his speed against his opponents. But Tryst is faster then he is, and now Spike is busting out power moves to take the cruiserweight down.” Analyzes Comet.

 

Spike climbs up to his feet and stays on the attack. He reaches down, grabbing Tryst by his hair and pulling him up to his feet. Spike locks his hand with Trysts hand. Spike under Trysts arm and lifts him straight into the air!

 

“Look at that strength” gawks Comet. “Spike is holding Tryst straight into the air by his arm!”

 

“This move actually puts a lot of pressure on Tryst’s arm.”

 

Trysts scrams in pain as Spike just holds him in the air. Spike slowly starts to inch towards the ropes, making sure to keep the pressure on Tryst’s arm.

 

“Hollywood has the same look on his face that Tryst had before the attempted suicide dive.”

 

“So, you think he is planning something, Comet?” asks Riley.

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

Spike reaches the ropes with Tryst still stuck in the air. Spike turns Tryst over, placing him over the top rope and right above the floor! But instead of tossing his opponent to the floor, Spike snaps him down onto the apron, causing Tryst’s arm to ricochet over the top rope!

 

“Ouch!” yelps Riley.

 

“Spike is going to town on Tryst’s arm tonight!”

 

Tryst grabs at his elbow in pain, but Spike keeps his hand locked with Tryst’s. Spike wrenches at Tryst’s arm, before leaning back and swinging a right hand at Tryst…

 

 

 

 

 

 

…But Tryst gets his free arm up and blocks it! Tryst leans back and nails a right hand. Spike releases the hold and stumbles back into the ring. Tryst grabs the top rope and with all the strength in both arms, slingshots himself onto the top rope. Tryst dives into the ring towards Spike. But Spike sees the high-flyer coming and quickly rolls to the mat, diving under Tryst. Tryst catches this and lands on his feet, a little shake up.

 

“Tryst spring boarded into the ring, but Spike saw it and dove underneath!”

 

“At least Spike is smart enough to not let Tryst jump on him like a trampoline.” Jokes Riley.

 

Tryst gets to a full standing position and turns around. Spike is already flying at full speed towards Tryst.

 

“Yakuza Kick!”

 

Spike throws his leg in the air, looking to connect with Tryst’s face. But Tryst is too fast and ducks underneath it!

 

“Tryst ducks underneath the Yakuza Kick!”

 

‘Aren’t you ever tired of being wrong, Comet?”

 

Caught by surprise, Spike turns around quickly but is caught in a Tryst front face lock. Tryst leaps into the air with a spin. Tryst looks for a tornado DDT, but Spike escapes from it by pushing Tryst off his front face lock.

 

“Spike pushing Tryst off the tornado DDT.”

 

“Look at that. Spike also knows not to let Tryst drive him on his head. Boy, is he a smart fellow.” Mocks Riley.

 

Tryst lands on his feet as the two cruiserweights face off. Tryst charges towards Spike, trying to keep the pace going at full speed. Spike watches Tryst charge at him, and lures him in. Tryst dives…

 

 

 

 

…. But Spike catches his bad arm and drives him face first to the mat. Spike locks his arms around Tryst’s wrist and wrenches back on it.

 

“Fujiwara Arm bar!”

 

Tryst screams at the top of his lungs as he wiggles around. Spike keeps all his weight and the pressure on the shoulder, as it finally catches back to Tryst…

 

 

 

 

 

 

*Tap Tap Tap*

 

 

*Ding Ding Ding*

 

 

“And this match is over!”

 

Spike releases the hold as he pulls himself up to his feet.

 

“The winner of this match, via submission….”Hollywood” Spike Jenkins!!!!!”

 

“Not Today” starts up as Spike holds his arms in the air in celebration.

 

“The fujiwara arm bar gets the submission victory for “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins over Tryst.”

 

“But up next! GOD! “The Superior One” Tom Flesher with Allison Onita take on the Crowe! Flesher is a God!”

 

“Okay…Calm down, Bobby.”

 

The screen fades to black as SWF Lockdown goes to a commercial break.

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

BACKSTAGE:

 

As Lockdown comes back on air a local Virginian woman – curvy and voluptuous, and definite ten to say the least – swoons over every word of a SWF Superstar…Johnny Dangerous.

 

“Vanessa,” he says, flashing that Million-dollar smile. “You did say your name was Vanessa, right?”

 

“Oh,” she responds, blushing quite uncontrollably. “Yes, but it you can call me anything you want. It really doesn’t matter.”

 

Johnny places his hand against the wall, and right over her shoulder, leaning in closer. She smiles as she glares up first towards the SWF Cruiserweight Championship title -- resting on the Barracuda’s shoulder -- then moves up to his charming eyes.

 

“Good,” coos Johnny. He reaches up with his other hand, gently brushing the tip of his finger against the side of her face and running it down to her chin…and down to her neck. “You know, you have such soft skin, Vanessa. I like soft skin, did you know that?”

 

She shakes her head no, still smiling, and remains silent.

 

“I have something that you just might like,” he continues. “It will make your skin shimmer like nothing else.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Oh yes, however, and *unfortunately*, I don’t have it with me.”

 

“Aw,” Vanessa drops her head down, momentarily disappointed, but Johnny continues once more.

 

“BUT, I do have it back at the hotel.”

 

“Oh,” Her head perks back up, and once more she’s smiling from ear to ear. “will you give me some than?”

 

“You can bet on that,” replies Johnny. “We’ll be done here in just a bit, and afterwards you and I can go back to my room-”

 

“EXCUSE ME!”

 

A voice rings out, and Johnny stands back up; swiveling his head towards the direction.

 

“Johnny Dangerous,” ask the small sized man. He is dressed in a SWF road crew uniform, and holding a clipboard.

 

“Yes, that’s me,” Johnny replies. “What is it, and this had better be good.”

 

“M-My name is Mark Coleman,” he says. “I’m Commissioner Zenon’s personal assistant-”

 

“Really,” replies Johnny, taking a suspicious step towards Mark. “I haven’t ever seen you before.”

 

“Uh…It’s my first day…I just started this show in fact,” says Mark. “Look, I’m here on official business! The Commissioner has requested a word with you.”

 

Johnny looks towards Vanessa, but she simply shrugs. He turns back towards Mark and says, “What does he want, you know I am kind of in the middle of something here.”

 

“Uh..shit,” he mumbles under his breath, “think quick, Mark, think quick!”

 

“What was that?”

 

“Oh,” Mark responds. “He wanted to talk to you about a title shot!”

 

“You don’t say? I wonder what title…probably about the Tag Team-”

 

“World Title,” Mark sputters out, trying to quickly think of an answer. “Yes, you have been hand selected to face the winner of tonight’s World Title match on Smarkdown, b-b-but the Commissioner needs you to sign the contract first! Yes, that’s it, he does.”

 

“Oh, well hell,” says Johnny, rather surprised. “Why didn’t you say so? Lead the way my good man.”

 

“Right this way,” says Mark.

 

“Oh,” Johnny turns back towards Vanessa who by now is looking rather disappointed. “Stay right there, and I’ll be right back. Tonight is going to be a celebration, and that means a night full of…uh…skin care!”

 

She blushes again, smiling as the Barracuda strolls off down the hall.

 

 

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

MOMENTS LATER

 

“…So then I grabbed him right off the turnbuckle, all three hundred pounds and then some, and I-”

 

“This is it,” says Mark, cutting Johnny off from story mode and stopping right in front of a door. On it is a poorly inscribed sign that reads “Commissioner’s Office” hanging loosely from the door.

 

“Wow,” Johnny glances over his shoulder then spins around glancing the other way. “We’re pretty deep in the bowels of this arena. I didn’t know Zenon liked his office so secluded.”

 

“Uh…well he doesn’t like to be disturbed,” answers Mark. “If you’ll step inside this clo…err…office, the Commissioner is already waiting!”

 

Johnny reaches for the doorknob as Mark watches…eagerly.

 

“Wait a second,” snaps Johnny, rather suspiciously. He spins his head towards Mark and cocks his brow, causing the Commissioner’s personal assistant to nervously take a step back. Mark’s eyeballs bulge as he fumbles with his words. “Uh…I-I-It was-”

 

“What do you think I should say,” ask Johnny, cutting Mark off.

 

“Well…I’m not s-sure…what d-d-do you mean?”

 

“Not to be mean there, Mark, but were you aware that you have a slight stuttering problem,” replies Johnny. “Anyway, what I mean is…do you think I should act surprised?”

 

A sigh of relief comes over Mark as the Barracuda rattles on, “I mean,” he says. “Should I be like…World Title shot, me, wow, Commissioner Z, out of all the people in this federation you select me?”

 

Johnny’s hand goes to his chest, acting out a surprised look before turning back to Mark once more. “Or do you think I should take the focused, yet assuring type of approach?”

 

“Yes, Commissioner,” continues Johnny, “you have made an excellent decision, I promise you won’t regret the choice either!”

 

Mark remains silent, watching Johnny flash his million-dollar smile.

 

“So what do you think,” Johnny ask.

 

“Well, uh…I’m not quite…uh…which…uh… ”

 

“What do you seem so nervous there, Mark? You’re sweating bullets!”

 

“…”

 

“…”

 

“I just don’t think you should keep the Commissioner waiting,” Mark finally responds, wiping his forehead. “He’s been…a little antsy lately, yeah that’s it, and has a lot on his mind.”

 

“Hmm… Perhaps your right, I don’t want to keep him waiting when he’s been so kind, now do I?”

 

“No, you really don’t.”

 

Nodding his head in agreement, Johnny spins around towards the door, grabs the doorknob and turns…

 

CREEEEEEEEAK!

 

“Commissioner,” greets Johnny, peering his head into the pitch black room. He takes a step inside, and the second he does he realizes that he’s been had! “Hey wait a second, this is a broom clo-”

 

“Oof!”

 

Mark rushes forward and shoves Johnny into the closet, closing the door behind him with a loud SLAM~! and leans against it with all his weight to keep the Barracuda contained inside! He doesn’t have to hold the Secret Agent off long, however, as Mike Van Siclen zooms in on a forklift…

 

VROOOOM!! BEEP! BEEP!

 

…and parks it right in front of the door, locking the Barracuda inside.

 

“Heh,” chuckles Mike, as the sounds of Johnny banging on the door and his muffled voice echo out. “Dumb ass, Bitch, maybe next time you’ll learn to keep that mouth of yours shut!”

 

He hops off the forklift then turns to Mark and tosses him a wad of rolled up bills. “There,” he says, “just like I promised. Now if I were you, I’d get the hell out of here. He won’t be locked in there forever, and when he gets out…he’ll be looking for you.”

 

“But what about you,” ask Mark, fumbling through the money and trying to frantically count it out.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” responds Mike. “He never saw my face, only yours.”

 

Licking his chops, Van Siclen strolls off down the hall, and the sounds of Johnny banging on the door still ring out…

 

 

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

 

 

“Hey,” shouts the Barracuda, though hardly audible, “lemme outta here!”

 

 

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

 

 

 

As We:

FADE OUT

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

A small collection of screams is heard as the lights fall and darkness overtakes the arena. Machine Head’s “Imperium” begins to play with its mellow strumming of the guitar. The intensity picks up progressively until it reaches boiling point...

 

“HHEEEAAAARRRR ME NNNNOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW!!!!!”

 

The lights flicker in a brooding red light as screens at homes around the world become distorted with picture noise. The lights and noise stops as the darkness goes black again, and a spotlight appears in the middle of the stage. Standing amidst the light is Crow, the Antichrist Superstar with his wings spread and head cocked back. The crowd cheers wildly for their beloved superstar, and Jessica walks through the curtain next to him!

 

“Hear me now!

Words I vow!

No fucking regrets!”

 

“What’s this?” asks Comet. “Could Crow’s woman, Jessica, be joining him for the match?”

 

Crow drops his arms and turns around to face the crowd. A cigarette is as always present, the BUTT resting gently between his lips. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out his zippo and smiles as he slashes the zippo back and forward across his pants.

 

”Fuck these chains!

No god damn slave!

I will be different!”

 

The Antichristian Phenomenon lights the cigarette in his mouth and proceeds to stride forward. After his second stride he throws the still lit zippo behind him onto the stage and an eruption of fire goes off! The crowd cheers wildly as the flames rise up to two metres in height!

 

I'll stand here defiantly!

My middle finger raised!

Fuck your prejudice!

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall! Making his way to the ring is the first competitor… currently residing in Anchorage, Alaska, and accompanied by Jessica, he weighs 230 pounds… and he is the Antichrist Superstar, the Gothic Warrior, CROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!”

 

Crow strides up the steel steps and enters the ring. He walks over to his corner and sits down, smoking, with Jessica next to him on the outside. Together, they wait for Tom Flesher.

 

The lights go out for a second, and the arena is dark and silent. Suddenly…

 

BOOM!

 

An explosion of blue pyro and smoke lights up the arena, and Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” begins to blare over the speakers! The smoke clears, and Tom Flesher walks out in his blue warm-up suit. Next to him is Allison Onita, dressed like every fashionable college girl in the country in a blue tank top, grey fleece sweatpants and blue flip-flops. They walk forward together, fireworks going off in the background. As Allison escorts Flesher, the fans boo them both loudly. Flesher simply shoos them off with a flick of the wrist, and they enter the ring together. The music fades, and Funyon begins his announcement.

 

“His opponent, accompanied by Allison Onita… from Buffalo, New York, and weighing in at 231 pounds, he is ‘the Superior One,’ TOM FLESHER!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Allison helps Flesher strip off his warm-up suit. Crow butts out his cigarette on the ringpost and flicks the filter to the matting as Flesher stretches out. Referee Sexton Hardcastle motions for them to come to the center, and then calls for the bell.

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!

 

 

Flesher steps to the center, but is immediately met with a stiff knife-edge chop to the chest! Crow follows the chop up with a stiff punch to the face, which Flesher attempts to answer with a palm strike. Crow, though, chops him once again, this time attacking Flesher’s windpipe! Tom steps back, caught off-guard by the chop to the neck. Crow grabs him by the wrist and throws him toward the ropes. As he rebounds, the Goth catches him by the elbow and falls to the side, taking him to the mat with an armdrag that knocks the wind out of the former World Champion! Flesher rolls through and gets to his feet, but Crow quickly hooks his arm again and tries to take him down again. Flesher steps back, planting his feet and letting Crow fall harmlessly to the mat. There, he threads his arm behind Crow’s head and pulls him to his feet in an abdominal stretch! Crow reaches out, though, and quickly snags the ropes to break the hold. The crowd applauds as Jessica looks on with concern from the outside.

 

“There we have it,” says Bobby Riley. “Tom Flesher is able to take Crow’s attacks and shake them off, then come back up with a submission. I don’t see how the bird can compete with that.”

 

“Au contraire, Monsieur Riley,” says Comet. “The Gothic Avian is showing that he’s able to exploit his fighter’s instinct so as to avoid being stretched out in horribly boring locks, for which the fans will appreciate him.”

 

Flesher releases the abdominal stretch and backs up a few steps. Crow turns around, only to be blasted in the midsection with a double-leg takedown that knocks him back into the ropes! Flesher backs away as Crow gets his balance against the ropes. As soon as he faces Flesher, the Superior One throws a stiff kick at his stomach! Crow doubles over, caught off-guard by the blow to the solar plexus, and Flesher takes the opportunity to grab his wrist. He pivots, starting an Irish whip to the corner. Crow, though, takes the momentum and drops to one knee, bringing Flesher over his shoulder with an ippon throw! Flesher spills to the mat and quickly tries to get to his feet to recover, but as he turns around, Crow jumps off the mat and nails him with a dropkick! Flesher collapses, and Crow covers him for

 

 

ONE!

 

 

No more, though, as Flesher kicks out and rolls to his stomach.

 

“And that’s what the Gothic Warrior has to do,” says Cyclone Comet approvingly. “He’s not going to be able to outwrestle Tom Flesher, but his high-impact style is going to open opportunities for him to hot the odd wrestling move and then slap Flesher silly.”

 

Flesher gets up on all fours, but Crow nails him with a diving knee to the back! Tom spread-eagles on the mat, and Crow hooks his arm. He twists the arm around his leg, setting up the majistral cradle! The fans applaud, but Flesher quickly draws his arm in and hooks the pit of Crow’s knee. He stands up, sweeping the leg out from under Crow and taking him to the mat! With the leg hooked, Flesher spins in and drops between Crow’s legs, slamming his elbow into the Antichrist Superstar’s gut! He covers for

 

 

ONE!

 

 

but no more, as the bird kicks out easily. He rolls to his stomach, and Flesher quickly hooks his left arm.

 

“Flesher hits Crow with an elbow to the stomach,” says Bobby Riley. “This is what I love about Tom Flesher… he sees an opening and he attacks it, even if it’s something that no one else in the SWF would have caught, and he’s sticking with it.”

 

“Perhaps he’d do better to attack Crow’s lungs,” Comet notes sourly. “I’m sure they can’t take much abuse after all of the vile, horrid cigarettes he smokes. Though his heart is pure, his lungs are sullied by the inky black tar of addiction!”

 

“And there,” says Riley, “is our mandatory monthly public service announcement. Now, back to the dick jokes.”

 

Flesher locks in an underhook as he spins out in front of Crow. The bird tries to attack and escape, but plays directly into Flesher’s strategy and gets caught in a front headlock. Flesher adeptly hooks his chin and rolls to the side, coming out on top with a grounded version of the Cement Job! He holds Crow for

 

 

ONE!!

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

NO! Crow kicks out and rolls to the side, even as Flesher reasserts the headlock and wrenches his chin to the side. Crow realizes that he’s not going to be able to avoid another Cement Job, and so he shuffles to the side. He reaches out and hooks one boot over the bottom rope, forcing a break. Flesher releases the hold and backs away.

 

“You have to admire the tenacity of Crow, much as one admires the sparrow for fighting off the hawk that aims to attack its young,” says Comet. “Even out of his hardcore element, Crow is fighting tenaciously to keep Tom Flesher from getting the advantage.”

 

“You say he’s out of his element like he does anything but garbage wrestling,” says Riley. “So he sticks around when he’s getting the piss beat out of him. That doesn’t make him an athlete – that barely makes him employable!”

 

Flesher crouches down as Crow gets back to his feet. He takes a few steps away from the ropes, but before he knows what’s happening, Flesher slams into him with a blast double leg that sends him careening into the corner! Crow slumps into the corner as Flesher regains his footing. The Superior One hooks Crow by the shoulder and snakes his arm behind the Gothic Avian’s head. He drags the bird in that precarious position for a few feet, to get him away from the ropes. Then, he pulls Crow to his feet and grapevines a leg, locking on an abdominal stretch! Immediately, the fans begin to boo as Allison Onita jumps and claps on the outside.

 

“Now THIS is what I’m here to see,” beams Riley. “Flesher’s got Crow hooked up and he’s going to stretch him six ways to Sunday. I don’t see how you can complain about this.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOORING! BOOOOOOOOORING!”

 

The crowd chants, chastising Flesher as he tightens the abdominal stretch.

 

“BOOOOOOOOORING! BOOOOOOOOORING!”

 

“Comet, would you shut your mouth?!” Riley shouts, steamed. “You’re only encouraging them!”

 

“I can’t imagine how they’d need any encouragement.”

 

Flesher holds Crow, despite the bird’s inching steps toward the ropes. He tries to keep the stretch on, and drapes his free arm over Crow’s stomach. As he puts even more pressure on Crow’s head and shoulder, Flesher grinds his elbow into the Antichristian Phenomenon’s abdomen! The fans boo, and Jessica looks on from outside with a worried look on her face.

 

“Well, that’s what she gets,” says Riley resignedly. “I mean, if she wants him so bad that she’s willing to watch her man come out here and get destroyed, she must really love that pecker.”

 

“Robert!” Comet shouts. “After all our troubles with the FCC – ”

 

“What?! He’s a crow! Crows peck things!”

 

Comet sighs. “Alright, Robert, but I have to ask that you choose your words a bit more carefully.”

 

“Fine,” Riley says indignantly. “But now I have to get back to watching the match, thank you very much. And here we have Flesher ramrodding Crow’s stomach with his elbow…”

 

Flesher continues assaulting Crow, who nonetheless inches toward the ropes. Jessica pounds the mat, shouting encouragement to him. Flesher leans on him, sticking him in the stomach again with the point of his elbow. Referee Sexton Hardcastle asks the bird if he wants to give up, but he just reaches out and tries to grab the ropes. Flesher holds on to the submission lock and leans on Crow, pantomiming a yawn. The fans boo loudly, but Crow takes advantage of the momentary release in pressure to lunge for the ropes! He reaches out, grabbing the middle rope with his hand! Hardcastle warns Flesher and begins to count.

 

ONE! Flesher holds up one finger.

 

TWO! Flesher holds up two fingers, nodding.

 

THREE! He continues counting along, watching Hardcastle intently.

 

FOUR! Finally, he breaks the hold. Hardcastle admonishes him, but Flesher simply shrugs as if to say, “What do you want me to do?”

 

“What I want to know, Robert, is how you can so undyingly support a man with such flagrant disregard for the rules.”

 

Riley shakes his head. “Comet, you just don’t get it. He’s not disregarding anything! He’s entitled to keep that hold on for up to five seconds after the rope break, and then and only then does he have to break it. He’s completely within the scope of the rules!”

 

“The letter, perhaps, but certainly not the spirit.”

 

Allison Onita applauds on the outside, cheering her man on. Crow, meanwhile, hears cheers from Jessica and from the fans. He starts to stand up, holding the ropes for support and facing the crowd. As he does, Flesher shoves his way past Hardcastle and grabs Crow by the waist! Caught off guard, the Australian sensation can’t defend as Flesher lifts him off the mat and steps back a few feet with the reverse waistlock. Then, with a deep back bend and a hard pop of his hips, Flesher launches Crow backwards with a German suplex! He unlocks his hands at the high point and throws Crow over with such force that the bird does a full flip and comes to rest on his face! The crowd boos as he lands with a thud and Flesher picks himself up off the mat. Flesher points to Allison and golf-claps, prompting Allison to do the same, while Crow merely lays on the mat holding his gut. The crowd, meanwhile, responds with its standard chant.

 

“YOU SUCK COCK! YOU SUCK COCK!”

 

“I don’t see how that’s necessary,” Riley says. “Tom Flesher and Allison Onita have found something that… while I might not have been the first to encourage them… makes both of them happy! They have something special, Comet! Why do these people have to try to demean and undermine that?!”

 

“Perhaps because Flesher is clearly using Allison only to get back at Ann for their past conflicts,” says Comet sharply. “And,” he continues, “perhaps it’s because these loyal fans have been properly trained to see injustice in action, which Flesher’s sucking-in of Allison absolutely is.”

 

“It’s not Flesher sucking in Allison,” snickers Riley. “Man, do YOU have a lot to learn.”

 

Flesher turns back toward Crow, who is still on the mat in pain. He drops to the mat and rolls Crow to his back, lazily hooking a leg as Hardcastle counts

 

 

ONE!!

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

NO! Crow kicks out! Flesher looks at Hardcastle, glowering as if it would be ludicrous for Crow to have kicked out, but the official steadfastly holds up two fingers as the crowd applauds Crow’s tenacity. Flesher sighs, rolling his eyes. Then, as Allison encourages him, he stands up and grabs Crow by the hair. He lifts his opponent off the mat and ducks down, picking him up in a fireman’s carry! The crowd boos as Flesher sets up a Death Valley Driver. Their boos quickly change to cheers, though, as Crow’s legs swing out and he twists around, locking Flesher’s head under one arm! He pivots on Flesher’s neck, then falls to the mat with a tornado DDT! The crowd goes wild!

 

“MURDEROUS DDT!” shouts Comet! “THIS COULD BE IT!”

 

Sexton Hardcastle counts

 

 

ONE!!

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

NO! Flesher kicks out, lifting the fog of the DDT. Running on adrenaline, Crow stands up and steps to the side. Flesher sits up, trying to shake off the cobwebs. Suddenly, from behind, Crow spins around and nails him in the back of the head with a sickening roundhouse kick! Flesher’s body snaps forward, then rebounds and flops backwards as the fans go nuts!

 

“DAS WUNDERKICK!” shills Comet shamelessly. “Let’s see Flesher get up from THAT one!”

 

Crow covers Flesher, and Jessica cheers him on as Hardcastle counts

 

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

THRE- NO!!!!!!!!!!

 

The crowd boos as Flesher shoots one shoulder off the mat and Sexton Hardcastle waves off the fall. Flesher looks groggy as Crow continues the assault, whacking him with a stiff right hand before pulling him to his feet. He pivots on one foot, whipping Flesher to the ropes. Then, as Flesher sprints toward him again, the Gothic Warrior sprawls to the mat and hooks his leg, sending him face-first into the ropes with a drop toehold! Once again, the fans applaud Crow as he continues battering Flesher. He steps back a few feet. Flesher pulls himself off the ropes and uses them to try to get back to his feet. Still a little stunned, he stands with his back to Crow for a few seconds.

 

“Big mistake,” Comet murmurs.

 

Crow leaps off his feet and nails Flesher in the back with a dropkick! The strike sends Flesher spilling over the top rope and to the outside, where a shocked Jessica steps back and lets him land in a heap. Crow steps to the ropes and watches Flesher carefully. As Jessica moves in, he frantically waves her out of the way, and Flesher begins to get to his feet. Crow pulls back on the top rope and, as the rope bounces forward, he pulls himself over it! He somersaults, coming at the former World Champion with a slingshot senton! He hits Flesher with explosive impact and sends him to the matting outside the ring. He stays down for a second, still recovering from the beating he’s taken throughout the match and from the impact of the move. Flesher, for his part, appears to be out cold.

 

“And the Gothic Avian is taking charge!” shouts Comet. “He may not have the pure wrestling skill of Tom Flesher, but he’s got heart, soul and one hell of a set of wings!”

 

Crow slowly gets off of Flesher’s carcass as Sexton Hardcastle commences his counting.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

Crow grabs Flesher by the head and lifts him to his feet. He rams Flesher head-first into the apron, and Flesher reels backwards.

 

FOUR!

 

FIVE!

 

He snags Flesher by the straps of his singlet.

 

SIX!

 

… and whips him into the guardrail! The fans burst into cheers!

 

SEVEN!

 

Crow grabs the thin matting over the concrete…

 

EIGHT!

 

… and pulls it back, exposing the cement floor!

 

NINE!

 

Hearing the double count-out looming, Crow quickly rolls into the ring to break the count. Then, he rolls back out to start a new count and grabs Flesher by the head again! He locks on a front facelock and positions himself just in front of the concrete, and the fans go absolutely apeshit!

 

“NO!” screams Riley. “No, he can’t do this! This is illegal! This is practically murder!”

 

“Could Crow be setting up the Natural Born Chaos on the outside?!” asks Comet. “Surely, with the degree to which Flesher has abused the rules, we have JUSTICE! IN! ACTION!”

 

Crow starts to lift Flesher, but the former World Champion sags his hips and prevents the lift. Crow tries again, but once again Flesher blocks the suplex. Then, as the fans gasp, Flesher lifts Crow off the flooring and into a vertical suplex! He makes a quarter turn and then leans forward, dumping the bird over the guardrail stomach-first!

 

BOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

“Flesher shows his superior skill,” says Riley with a grin, “by reversing a potentially deadly hold to his advantage and once again attacking Crow’s stomach.”

 

“It seems like Crow might be the one who develops morning sickness tomorrow morning,” says Comet. “His stomach is taking more abuse than that time I went to Citizen Riley’s house for Chinese…”

 

“Listen, you spandex monkey, I told you you didn’t have to finish the meal if…”

 

“It wasn’t the meal, Robert. It was the cream of sum yung gi.”

 

Flesher grabs the limp Crow by the hair and escorts him back into the ring. Jessica covers her face, not sure how to react to what just happened, while Allison Onita screams her approval for her man. Flesher drags Crow to the center of the ring and lays him on the mat, then drops an elbow into his gut for good measure. Crow covers his abs in pain, but Flesher quickly backs away. He goes over to the nearest corner and begins climbing.

 

“Good lord,” says Comet. “When’s the last time we saw Flesher take to the air? This is almost always the wrestling equivalent of Pan American Flight 450 – ending in a crash and burn!”

 

“Oh, come on! Flesher’s headbutt is deadly, Comet! Deadly!”

 

Flesher climbs to the top rope and perches on the turnbuckle. Unsteady, he checks his balance before raising his arms over his head. As the crowd boos and Allison claps, he swings his arms forward and leaps off the cornerpost! He floats through the air, aiming at Crow’s stomach, as Allison shouts her approval! The crowd boos as Flesher seems to hover in the air for hours, before coming down and slamming his head into Crow’s stomach! The crowd screams with anger as Crow doubles up in pain and Flesher hooks his leg.

 

“Well, that’s it,” says Riley. “Do I have time for a Cosmopolitan during the commercial?”

 

Hardcastle counts

 

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!!!!

 

NO!!!!!!!

 

The crowd roars with approval as Crow gets his shoulder up with Hardcastle’s hand just a hair’s breadth from the mat! Flesher gets up, screaming at Hardcastle, who only shrugs.

 

“Oh, come on!” screams Riley. “That’s total BS! How is that not a pin?!”

 

“Crow shows his intestinal fortitude by kicking out after Tom Flesher takes his flying headbutt out of mothballs,” says Comet. “It seems that the moths may have gotten in there anyway and chewed away in the name of justice, or that Flesher’s chances of winning are spinning out into the inky blackness of the nether void!”

 

“Did you just say ‘nether?’”

 

Frustrated, Flesher grabs Crow by the arm and quickly pivots, whipping him to the nearest corner. The bird nearly collapses, as he’s obviously in bad shape. Flesher, though, sprints at him with his arm cocked for a shotei!

 

“Well, this could be it!” says Riley. “Flesher put Crow away with the Ego Trip last time, and tonight’s going to be no different!”

 

As Flesher runs at Crow, though, the Gothic Avian ducks down! Flesher goes over him, and Crow stands up, almost back-body dropping Flesher over the cornerpost! He lifts Flesher on his shoulder and then drops to his knees, slamming him face-first onto the turnbuckle! Flesher staggers backwards, holding his face, and turns toward the center of the ring. He takes one step, then another, and then, as the fans roar with enjoyment, flops onto his face! Crow, though obviously hurting, drops to his knees next to Flesher and continues the attack.

 

“And Crow, the tenacious little bugger, knows he has to finish Flesher now! He can’t take a further assault,” says Comet, “and this is as close to done as he’s had Flesher tonight!”

 

Crow hooks Flesher around the hips with a reverse waistlock. He stands up and lifts Flesher, taking him toward the center of the ring with a gutwrench suplex! The fans applaud as Flesher collapses limply on the mat. Crow stands up, and despite the fact that he stops for a second to hold his stomach, goes over to the corner. He climbs the ringpost and, facing the crowd, holds his arms out in the crucifix position!

 

The crowd, simply put, explodes!

 

“Evenflow Moonsault!” cries Comet as Crow arches and leaps off the top. “If this doesn’t do it, nothing will!”

 

Crow floats down, and with great impact, hits Flesher … only seconds after he brings his knees up!

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Crow rolls away, holding his stomach and nearly convulsing from the pain. Flesher rolls over and stands behind Crow, then stiffly grabs his head. Crow tries to fight, but Flesher slaps on the dragon sleeper without incident. Then, despite Crow’s attempts to block, Flesher steps over his back and forces him onto the mat on his stomach! Finally, Flesher tightens the dragon sleeper and takes a step back, locking on the Superior Stretch Beta! The crowd explodes with boos, but Crow can’t hold out for more than a few seconds before he taps!

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!

 

 

Flesher releases the hold as Allison jumps for joy outside the ring! She slides in under the bottom rope, and as Sexton Hardcastle raises one of Flesher’s arms, Allison grabs the other and hoists it skyward!

 

“Your winner,” says Funyon, “‘the Superior One,’ TOM FLESHER!!!!!”

 

Flesher and Onita embrace as Crow rolls out of the ring. Then, as Sexton Hardcastle vacates, Flesher motions for a microphone.

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

“So this is it, once again,” says Tom Flesher, fresh from a match. He tries to talk over the boos of the Richmond crowd. “Time and time again, I’ve beaten the so-called best of the SWF. Crow? I’ve beaten him twice. Tonight, I made him tap, and back in January I beat him in his own hardcore environment. Ann Onita? Please. John Duran? He was rookie when I was wearing the SWF World Championship my FIRST time. Danny Williams? Pinned him over and over and over again. From my debut match way back when we both started down South, Danny Williams has yet to come anywhere close to beating me.”

 

The crowd boos loudly. “What does Tom Flesher hope to achieve through this sort of abuse?” says Comet. “All he’s doing is dredging up the past! John Duran may be new to the sport, but he’s still the World Champion!”

 

“Only because he had to spend a month fighting for his bitch,” says Riley. “You’d have done the same.”

 

“I don’t have ‘bitches,’ Robert,” says Comet indignantly. “I have only romantic rendez-vous with attractive women who share my viewpoints.”

 

“Idealistic assistant district attorneys fresh out of law school?”

 

“The very same, and I’ll thank you not to question it.”

 

“So,” Flesher continues, “may I ask… what in the blue hell is keeping me from the World Title? Danno’s the number one contender? Come on! He doesn’t even DREAM about beating me! And I just took Ann Onita out in a ladder match…”

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

“… so it’s not like my ability to perform under any circumstances is in question. I can win ladder matches, tables matches, hardcore matches, and god knows I can win submission matches. So come on! Tell me… exactly… who I need to beat to get my shot!”

 

“Hero” by Nightrage kicks up with shredding guitar harmonies and blast beats, and the crowd goes wild! The ramp is lit by bursts of white pryo as Dace Night pushes the curtain to the side. He steps through the smoke and pyro and throws the metal horns to the crowd! They return the gesture and scream. He motions for a microphone, and the crowd begins chanting…

 

“DACE F’N NIGHT! DACE F’N NIGHT!”

 

He lets it go on for a moment, and then motions for them to quiet down. “You know something, Flesher? You’ve got an attitude problem. You’re trotting out all this crap that happened six months or a year ago like it means a damn thing! You act like a couple of wins over Dan Williams in 2002 are some sort of reason to think you’re worth a damn! Well, let me tell you something… you can’t hold a candle to Williams in the ring!” The fans cheer, but Dace once again motions for silence. “And you can’t even dream of beating someone who learned under him for the better part of his career.”

 

“He’s not saying…?” Comet says, with anticipation. “Could Dace Night be challenging Tom Flesher?!”

 

“Tom, I’ll tell you who you need to beat before you can get near that title! You need to get past DACE…”

 

The crowd screams “FUCKING!”

 

“NIGHT!”

 

Flesher scowls as “Hero” fires up once again, and the fans cheer.

 

“There you have it,” says Comet. “Tom Flesher runs his mouth, and in return he gets a challenge from Dace Night! We’ll have to see what develops from this, but for now, we have to take a commercial break!”

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

"Welcome back fans to Richmond Virginia,” greets The Cyclone Comet as we return to yet another fantastic edition of Lockdown. Still to come fans, Danny Williams will be back on the chase in order to get a hold of the SWF World Heavyweight Title and Annie Onita will be facing off against Dace Night. But right now we are going to have what promises to be one heck of an interesting tag team contest.”

 

“You can say that again but please don’t,” replies Bobby Riley as he looks at his notes for this upcoming contest. “Quite frankly what we have hear tonight are the tag team champions Janus and Aecas who quite frankly hate each other with the passion of a thousand Village People taking on two other guys in a match where their tag team straps are not even up for grabs. You have to figure that the former members of the Unholy Trinity are going to half wrestling their opponents and half each other all night long. And they might not even bother with their opponents at all!”

 

CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SONS…

There’ll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don’t you cry no more…

 

BOOOOOOM!

 

Too large flames shoot high into the air on both sides of the entranceway as the two members of the tag team appear. On one side, the Cruiserweight master of the air Alan Clark stands tall next to the very different United States Junior League Champion Coy West. With one man in white and the other in black, both men move down the aisle as a unit slapping hands with the Virginia crowd and slide underneath the bottom ropes into the ring. Putting their heads down as they walk to opposite corners of the ring, Clark and West step up to the middle rope as Funyon calls their names into the crowd.

 

“These two men weigh in at a total combined weight of 478 pounds. They are Alan Clark and Coy West. They are THE WAYYYYYWARD SONSSSSSSSSSS!”

 

BOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

As the two men throw their heads back up into the air, green explosions race around the ring posts in turn. Dropping off the buckles, Alan and Coy meet back in the middle of the ring and share a high five as they pass by each other. Stepping back up to the middle turnbuckles once again by on the other side of the ring from each other, Clark and West continue to pump up the crowd as they prepare for the unknown. After all, how do you prepare for a team that is about to pull apart at the seams? There seems to be only one way to find out.

 

Are you scared?

 

He’s here.

 

Red lights strobe about the arena as ‘Death in Fire’ starts to play long and hard through the arena. The crowd rises up as one in appreciation of the big man about to make his way to the ring. The entranceway filling with smoke and fume, a lone figure soon becomes known as the scythe of the harbinger of the dead rises up out of the fog. There stands The Black Angle with his weapon in hand high above his head as the blood red light continues to drip through the arena. Springing the blade out from the staff, Aecas looks about wildly for a moment before spewing a mouthful of blood into the air as the crowd gasps and cheers at the horror. His face splattered with the red, the one half of the tag team champions moves down the aisle with his title belt tied around his waist.

 

 

“Introducing, one half of the World Tag Team Champions…. He weighs in at 315 pounds and hails from Shrewsbury, England. He is The Black Angel … AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAECAS!”

 

Stepping over the top rope, Aecas drops his staff to the ring apron as the big man makes it clear that he is actually the most dangerous weapon in the ring. Pulling the title strap from around his waist, Aecas lifts the title belt up and over his head with one hand as the crowd cheers on the dangerous monster simply on the basis of how damn impressive he is. But there is another man that is just as dangerous and just as much a monster. And just as much as he hates everyone and everything, he has an extra bit of bile saved for his former partner in The Unholy Trinity.

 

[sTATUS: RELEASED]

 

The chorus of Fear Factory's "Resurrection" echoes out over the arena, accompanied by a pair of spotlights that swing around the crowd as if searching for a man that doesn’t really need to be sought so much. Blue pyrotechnics flower about the ramp as the crowd looks on with equal parts horror and disdain for the Hell Machine.

 

Consumed with memories...

That preceded today...

Given a chance to bereave...

Life that's slipping AWAY!

 

“And his partner… he weighs in tonight at 360 pounds and comes to us from Sydney, Australia. He is the HELLLL MACHINNNNNNNNNNNNE … Janus?”

 

“Where is he?” asks The Cyclone Comet as the crowd and Funyon wonder the same thing. Even through all the darkness, it is obvious that a 7-foot tall white-haired monster is not coming through the curtains. Obviously the most annoyed of the people in the arena is Aecas who is seemingly more ready to fight the Hell Machine than to team with him. With his backs to his actual opponents for the evening, Aecas steps up to the ropes nearest to the entrance way and calls out for Janus to come get him some. Roaring loudly, the Black Angel demands that his ‘partner’ come to the ring. But still the Machine sits in the garage. Finally shaking his head, Aecas turns back to both of his opponents for the actual match and sneers.

 

“Its obvious that Aecas is going to fight both of these guys at once!” mentions The Cyclone Comet as Coy and Alan look on determined to keep this as fair as they can considering the situation. But such fairness doesn’t seem to matter to their foe as he runs through them both with a hard shoulder assault! His speed seemingly unhindered by his considerable bulk, Aecas snatches Coy West off the canvas and almost casually chucks the 253-pound United States Champion right over the top rope and the to the arena floor. Quickly trying to make the most of his surprising attack on two men, Aecas grabs Alan off the canvas and quickly tosses the smaller man across the ring with a whip. Nimbly countering however, Clark rebounds into a baseball slide right between the tree trunk like legs of the big man. But as Clark rises on the other side of the big man, he gets a face full of boot as Aecas kicks the former Cruiserweight Champion right in the middle of the face. Callously plucking Alan off the mat once again, Aecas grabs the smaller man around the head and shoulders before plucking him off the canvas and burying him into the mat once again with the Uranage suplex!

 

BOOOOOOM!

 

Not even bothering to make a cover attempt while he has the chance, Aecas grabs Clark right around the head with just a big hand around his face. Plucking the smaller man off the ground just by the head, Aecas palms Clark for just a moment before pushing the man backward into his corner where just now West is in position to make the tag. Rushing into the ring, Coy walks head long into the path of rage as Aecas nimbly steps aside and catches the USJL champion around the waist. Holding West up on high, Aecas jumps into the air a bit before crushing him flat onto the canvas with a crushing side suplex! Rising up to his feet, Aecas bounces backward into the ropes before returning to the center of the ring and dropping down on his opponent with a hard elbow drop to the middle of the sternum.

 

“Riley I have to say I surprised about how well Aecas is handling the Wayward Sons here tonight,” says The Cyclone Comet. “The Black Angel is just beating the hell out of two men and we aren’t talking about the Wonder Twins here… Coy and Alan are world class competitors!”

 

“Well I guess when you’re about as big as two men that you… OH MY GOD! JANUS IS HERE!”

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

As the Virginia crowd stands on their feet and watches as The Hell Machine finally appears. Walking down the aisle with his trench coat already off and dragging his World Tag Team title virtually on the ground, Janus stalks his way down the aisle as Aecas finally catches view of his partner for the first time in the evening. Stepping from foot to foot, The Black Angel seems ready and willing to fight his partner right here and now as Janus walks down to the ring and toss his own title belt into the ring post!

 

CLANG!

 

Looking up at Aecas with almost no human expression on his face, Janus simply looks right in the eyes of death itself as Aecas continues to demand that he get inside that ring. But Janus continues to simply stand on the floor as the crowd incredibly starts to froth at the prospect of to such men fighting each other to the death. But the simple fact of the matter is that this match up does not only involve those two. So leaving Janus a coward in his eyes, Aecas turns back to the task of dismantling the Wayward Sons. But as Aecas turns back to his actual opponents for the evening, he finds them ready and waiting! Springing at Aecas from the side, Alan Clark catches his opponent behind the ear with a hard enziguri kick that knocks the larger man forward a few steps before Coy cuts him down with a flying lariat across the head. Smirking from his position on the floor, Janus finally rises up to the ring apron and walks over to his corner as Coy and Alan both stomp away at The Black Angel knowing simply that they have to f they hope to win this match.

 

“I don’t think I would have ever said this,” begins The Comet, “but Janus is a coward!”

 

“You have an odd understanding of cowardliness,” replies Bobby Riley as Coy walks out of the ring and leaves Alan there to control the much larger Aecas. “Janus is simply controlling the situation and Aecas being the big idiot that he is, can’t handle it.” Kicking at Aecas as the Black Angel rises up to his feet, Alan gets his opponent winded enough to latch onto his foe with a front facelock and drag the big man over to the enemy corner. Holding onto Aecas with both arms, Alan allows Coy to reach over the top rope and slap his partner on the shoulder in order to effect the tag. Coming in with a hard forearm over Aecas’ back, Coy helps Alan stand Aecas up for a moment as both men slam him with a pair of right hands. Ducking behind Aecas, West looks over at his partner as both men leap into the air and sandwich the big man’s head in between a pair of dropkicks! Crushed by the High Speed Collision, Aecas drops down to a knee before rolling over onto his back as Coy looks across the ring at the smiling Janus who is looking on with the look of a predatory animal. But Janus does not look on for long before he ducks into the middle of the ropes and into the ring as the referee immediately steps in his path.

 

“What is Janus doing now? He knows that the referee won’t let him just walk into the ring!” calls out The Comet as referee Matthew Kivell orders the Hell Machine back to the apron. But it seems as though that is what Janus had in mind all along as The Wayward Sons take advantage. Clutching Aecas around the arms, Coy pulls The Black Angel to his feet as Alan springs up to the top rope in a moment and springs off the top with a flying clothesline that knocks the monster back down to the canvas. Alan rolls back out of the ring immediately as Coy drops down on Aecas with a corkscrew elbow drop and goes for a cover.

 

 

ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE!

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

THREENOOOOKICKOUT!

 

“Aecas kicks out, but he is basically in this match alone…as Janus seems to find delight in the suffering of his partner!” The Comet exclaims as Aecas rolls back up to his feet, taking a moment to look over his shoulder at Janus as Coy tags out of the ring once more, exiting the ring as Alan hops over the ropes into the ring. Clark uses a large burst of speed and immediately fires across the ring toward Aecas, only to nearly be flipped inside out as The Black Angel extends his arm and clotheslines Alan Clark over and onto his face on the canvas. Aecas drops down and goes for a cover…

 

 

ONNNNNNE!

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOO!

 

 

 

“BROKEN UP BY…JANUS?!”

 

Both announcers make the call simultaneously as The Hell Machine uses his foot to shove Aecas out of the cover and onto the mat. The Black Angel is up like a shot and in his partner’s face, the crowd cheering as Aecas gives Janus a piece of his mind. Janus only smiles and shrugs, however, as he leaves Aecas in the ring and returns to his place on the apron.

 

“Aecas needs to pay attention to the match!” Riley bellows as The Black Angel turns back to face his opponents, but is caught completely off guard by the Wayward Sons…who are coming at him from both directions and leaping into the air!

 

“HIGH SPEED COLLISION!” Comet calls out, but Aecas ducks out of the way, causing West and Clark to whiff the air with their dropkicks and fall to the canvas. Aecas goes for a cover on Clark, but Kivell does nothing but point to West, showing The Black Angel that a tag had been made behind his back. Aecas can only shrug his shoulders and crawl across the ring, draping his body over West…

 

 

ONNNNNNE!

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOO!!

 

KICKOUT!

 

 

Coy kicks out just after the two, rolling toward his corner as Aecas gets to his feet. The Black Angel is quickly distracted, as mocking comes from over his shoulder – Janus stands there with a large smile on his face, clapping sarcastically and cheering on his partner in the battle at hand. Aecas makes a move toward his corner and looks for a tag, but the Hell Machine hops down from the apron, shaking his head and throwing his hands up, making sure to tell Aecas that he may have injured his arm during his entrance.

 

“Aecas is completely rude and vile! Janus hurt his arm and Aecas wants to take a break when he is completely healthy!”

 

“I am pretty certain I heard no reports of any arm injures from Citizen Janus, Robert.”

 

“You need to check your sources!” Riley quips as Aecas is suddenly dragged backwards and flipped onto his shoulders, locked into a pinning predicament thanks to a schoolboy roll-up from Alan Clark!

 

ONNNNNNNE!

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

KICKOUT!!

 

 

“GO AECAS!” Riley mocks as the big man kicks out, leaving Janus to once again hop back up to the apron, clapping in mock enthusiasm as The Black Angel gets back up to his feet. Alan Clark seems prepared, coming in and attacking with stiff kicks, but Aecas will have none of it, and soon Alan finds himself on a hasty retreat, with a very tall and pissed off man walking towards him. Alan gets to his corner, but instead of tagging out, he pulls himself up to the second rope and dives off, trying to catch Aecas with a tornado DDT.

 

 

THUD!!!

 

 

The move has the less-than-desired effect and instead of jamming Aecas’ head into the canvas, Alan is tossed off like a rag doll, bouncing across the mat and coming to rest only a few feet from the opponent’s corner. Clark seems dazed from the counter, crawling up onto his knees and trying to make a tag to Janus!

 

“He must have jarred something loose! He can’t tag out to him!” Riley comments as Alan tries repeatedly to tag in the Hell Machine, but once Clark gets an eyeful of exactly what he is trying to do he is up on his feet in an instant. Janus simply smiles, leaving Clark to smile as well…

 

WHAM!

 

Before being punched square in the jaw.

 

Alan stumbles backward and spins around, and is caught once more in The Black Angel’s grasp, this time being held by the throat. Alan shakes his head, trying to get the hold broken, but his pleas are unanswered as Aecas lifts Alan off his feet and holds him high in the air…bringing him down with immense force back-first and straight into his knee!

 

OOOoooooooo…

 

“Chokebreaker!!!” The Comet exclaims as the Virginia crowd cringes in unison. Aecas releases the choke and falls on top of Clark, going for another cover.

 

ONNNNNNNE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWWWWWWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

THRE---

 

 

“WHAT THE?!”

 

Coy West and Janus both enter the ring at near the same time, and both send hard kicks straight into Aecas’ back, breaking up the cover. The crowd can’t figure out whether to cheer or boo the action, and thusly everyone seems a bit confused.

 

“You have to admire Aecas’ will here, he continues to try and win the match!”

 

“Well to be fair…would YOU want to lose to Alan freaking Clark?” Riley mutters as Aecas is back in his partner’s face once more, giving Clark a bit of time to recover in the middle of the ring after the hard backbreaker he just endured. Aecas shoves Janus, putting him into the ropes, and it seems a though a melee is about to break out that would put the War of 1812 to shame…

 

 

 

 

…but Janus backs off??

 

Janus once again leaves the ring, going back to his corner and standing there, keeping quiet as Aecas wonders just what is going to happen next, finally turning his attention back to his opponents. Alan has made his way to his corner, but before he can make a tag The Black Angel drags him back into the middle of the ring. Aecas sends Clark into the ropes with almost excessive force, but the added momentum seems to be a blessing in disguise for Alan, who uses the energy to push himself into the air on the rebound, climbing up and wrapping his legs around Aecas’ head, looking for a hurricanrana!

 

 

BLOCKED!!

 

Aecas spins Alan Clark around on his shoulders, and now Clark sits like a child watching a parade with his parents, propped up on the big man and having nowhere to go but….

 

 

Down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WWWWWHHHHHAAAAAMMMMMM~!

 

 

 

“BY ZEUS!!!” Comet’s cry comes as Alan Clark is dropped head-first into the canvas by way of the Assualt Driver!! The Black Angel gets back to his feet as Alan slumps onto his back and Kivell gets ready to put the match in the books, but as Aecas looks to go for a cover…

 

 

 

 

KA-RACK!!!

 

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

 

Aecas is BLISTERED with a chair shot from Janus, causing him to stumble forward a few steps and turn around to face his attacking partner…

 

 

 

KA-RACK REDUX!!!

 

Janus fires off another hard by god chairshot, and Aecas goes down like a mighty redwood, his body crashing to the canvas next to the downed body of Alan Clark. Kivell calls for the bell as Coy West enters the ring, but soon suffers the same fate as The Black Angel…

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

One more meeting of skull vs. steel puts West down into the heap as well, leaving Janus standing alone, holding a dented steel chair and looking down at the three men. “Resurrection” by Fear Factory begins to blare throughout the arena, but it can barely be heard above the roaring jeers from the Richmond crowd, who send boos raining down from the rafters on the Hell Machine as he drops the chair to the mat and climbs out of the ring.

 

Kivell tries to check on the three men as Janus makes his way toward the curtain, keeping his eyes on the ring as Aecas begins to stir and finally sit up, his eyes glowing with rage and burning a hole into Janus. The Hell Machine smiles once more and steps through the curtain and the camera turns back to Aecas…

 

“By Zeus! Aecas had the match firmly won after the Assualt Driver! There is no reason Janus should have gotten involved like that!”

 

“Whatever…the sound of the chair bouncing off that big moron’s head was great!” Riley seems overly pompous, and Comet can barely contain himself from going superhuman on his ass, but he keeps himself toned down a few notches.

 

“Robert, we can’t say for certain who would have won this match. The Wayward Sons could get a tag team championship match out of this!” The Comet says as Lockdown heads to another commercial break, with the camera watching on as Aecas makes his way backstage, still fuming, and Coy West and Alan Clark are back on their feet, still recovering, as the scene fades out.

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

FADE IN

 

As we return to Lockdown, we find Funyon standing in the ring, alongside referee Sexton Hardcastle and a jobber to be named later.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Funyon, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall, with a ten-minute time limit! Currently in the ring, from Cleveland, Ohio, weighing two hundred thirty-three pounds… Christian Fury!” Fury walks over to the edge of the ring and raises his arms above his head, to no reaction whatsoever.

 

“Former SJL wrestler Christian Fury in the ring right now,” says Comet. “He heard that the SWF was going to be in the area, and put in a call to Commissioner Alex Zenon, asking the Commissioner to throw him a bone.”

 

“According to what I heard,” adds Riley, “it was more like begging! Fury said that he’d fight anybody, if he could just get a match. Maybe he thinks that, if he does a good enough job, Zed might offer him a spot on the roster!”

 

“I hope he’s not holding his breath for that to happen,” replies Comet. “Besides which, even if he’s been keeping himself active in the Indies, it’s been quite a long time since he’s faced anyone near at this caliber of competition.”

 

“Any ideas who his opponent is going to be tonight?”

 

“None at all Robert. I guess we’ll all find out here in just a few seconds.”

 

 

No sooner than the words were out of Comet’s mouth, the lights cut out immediately, and the Richmond Coliseum erupts in a preemptive cheer, as Reggie Noble’s voice cuts through the darkness like a blade:

 

 

 

 

 

ATTENTION!

 

 

ALL YOU NIGGAZ!

 

ALL YOU BITCHES!

 

TIME TO PUT DOWN THE CRISTAL, TIME TO TAKE OFF THE ICE FOR A MINUTE…

 

 

TIME TO THROW A LITTLE MUD IN THIS MOTHERFUCKA…

 

 

YEEEEAAAAAAH!

 

A single spotlight centers itself on the stage, flashing off and on in rhythm as Redman’s “Let’s Get Dirty” throbs melodiously throughout the arena. The Bahama Bomber bursts onto the stage, waving his hands enthusiastically as he gets the crowd even more pumped up.

 

“AAAAND his opponent,” says Funyon, “from the Bahamas, weighing two hundred fourteen pounds, the WIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” Wildchild crosses his hands in front of them, pantomiming a bird as he waves them up and down, before he runs down the ramp, slapping hands with the fans surrounding the barricade, and completes a victory lap around the ring before somersaulting over the bottom rope and into the ring. Funyon retreats to his seat at ringside as the Bahama Bomber gracefully springs to his feet and races to the corner, leaping onto the middle turnbuckle and raising his arms above his head proudly as the fans cheer on.

 

“What a treat for the fans here tonight,” gushes Comet. “It’s been such a long time since Wildchild has wrestled in singles competition, and here he’s decided to accept Christian Fury’s challenge! It looks like we can look forward to some spectacular cruiserweight action!”

 

“If you ask me,” grumbles Riley, “he could have stayed gone; I’m sick of seeing him holding the glass ceiling over guys like Mike Van Siclen, so the less I see of Wildchild, the better I like it!” Wildchild hops down from the ropes and turns to face his opponent, a confident smile on his face. Referee Hardcastle heads over towards the edge of the ring as Wildchild’s music fades and signals the timekeeper to start the match:

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

“Bell’s gone, and we’re underway,” says Comet, as Wildchild and Fury circle each other in the ring. The two engage in a collar-and-elbow tie-up, and Fury quickly takes advantage with a side headlock. Wildchild leads him back towards the edge of the ring and uses the ropes to help him gain the momentum to launch Fury across the ring. Wildchild makes his way across the ring to meet Fury as he rebounds…

 

 

WHACK!

 

 

… But Fury knocks him to the canvas with a running shoulderblock!

 

“Fury appears to have bulked up for this match,” notes Comet. “He’s a bit heavier than the last time he competed in an SJL ring!” Fury runs back towards the ropes as Wildchild gets to his feet, but the Bahama Bomber leaps into the air as Christian rebounds, planting his feet in Fury’s chest locking his hands behind his neck…

 

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And arching back as he snatches Fury off the canvas, before sending him flying through the air with his patented airborne monkey flip, landing gracefully back on his feet as the crowd cheers!

 

“Freefall,” shouts Comet. “Beautiful counter by the Bahama Bomber!” Wildchild races towards the edge of the ring as Fury gets to his feet, leaping to the top rope and curling into a ball as he springs off…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Knocking Fury backwards with his trademarked Pinball attack! Wildchild waits patiently for Fury to stumble back to his feet before running back to the ropes. He leaps into the air as he rebounds…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And whips his leg through the air sharply to blast Christian in the face with a leg lariat that sends him falling out of the ring!

 

“Tremendous offensive display by Wildchild,” marvels Comet, as the crowd roars its approval. “It doesn’t look like he’s lost a step!”

 

“Wildchild is like the Sacramento Kings of the SWF,” mumbles Riley. “All sizzle, and no steak! Sure, he’s flashy, and has spectacular offense, but he can’t handle the pressure when things get rough!” Wildchild climbs to the top turnbuckle as Fury is trying to recover outside the ring, before leaping off of the turnbuckle, landing in a seated position on the top rope facing the ring…

 

 

SPLASH!

 

 

… And springing off backwards, flipping out of the ring with a spectacular moonsault variation, and crashing into the unsuspecting Christian Fury on the arena floor!

 

“Wildchild’s on fire tonight,” exclaims Comet. “He’s getting everything to go against Christian Fury!” Wildchild pulls Fury to his feet and leads him over to the edge of the ring, rolling him underneath the bottom rope. Climbing back onto the apron himself, he proceeds to the corner and climbs to the top turnbuckle, waving his arms to incite the crowd as he waits for Christian to get back to his feet.

 

“Air Bahamas, flight 214, now cleared for takeoff,” laughs Comet. “Get ready for the Wildchild to fly! The Human Hurricane launches himself fearlessly off the top turnbuckle, wrapping his hands around Fury’s waist as he sails overhead, and pulling him into a Sunset Flip! Hardcastle dives into position to count the shoulders:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR—

 

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

 

“By Zeus,” says Comet, “was that close! Wildchild very nearly had him with that Sunset Flip!” Wildchild pulls Fury to his feet, but Christian surprises him, stunning him with a thumb to the eyes! As the Bahama Bomber is stumbling around, Fury snatches him off the canvas, locking his hands around Wildchild in a side waistlock…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And driving him into the canvas with a sidewalk slam!

 

 

“Hah,” snorts Riley. “Now we’ll see how tough Wildchild really is!” Fury grabs Wildchild by the feet and drags him over near the corner. Positioning himself between the Tropical Tumbler and the turnbuckles, Fury grabs a hold of both of his legs and leans back, launching him into the corner with a slingshot catapult…

 

 

… But the Bahama Bomber lands gracefully on the second turnbuckle and climbs up to the top, waiting on the oblivious Fury to return to his feet before leaping off…

 

 

 

BANG!

 

 

… And wrapping his arm around Christian’s head in a side headlock as he drives him face-first into the canvas with a flying Bulldog!

 

 

DUB-CEE!

DUB-CEE!

DUB-CEE!

DUB-CEE!

DUB-CEE!

 

 

“Tremendous bulldog by Wildchild,” shouts Comet, as Wildchild springs back to his feet. “He’s been utterly dominant in this match… and now, he’s just given the sign for the Wild Ride!” Wildchild pulls Fury to his feet and stands in front of him, reaching back to lock his arms with Christian’s before spinning around and standing upright, to leave Fury dangling over his shoulders…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And planting him into the canvas with a Wild Ride! The crowd explodes as the Bahama Bomber rolls him over onto his back and Hardcastle drops down to count the pinfall:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

“Let’s Get Dirty” begins blaring again as Wildchild gets to his feet. Hardcastle raises his hands in victory as Funyon rises from his feet, lifting the microphone to his lips as he says, “Here is your winner: the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!”

 

“A nice victory by Wildchild to get himself back on track,” says Comet. “As you can see, he’s still got the offense going at full efficiency!” Wildchild climbs onto the second rope and looks out into the crowd, waving his arms across his waist to indicate his intention on recapturing the Tag Team Titles…

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

… When, out of nowhere, Mike Van Siclen runs from out of the crowd, blasting Wildchild in the back of the head with a lead pipe, and knock him over the ropes and down to the floor.

 

“It’s Mike Van Siclen,” shouts Comet, as Wildchild’s music is cut out. “What’s he doing out here?”

 

“It looks like he’s finally giving Wildchild what he’s got coming to him,” crows Riley, as Van Siclen slides out of the ring. The Spectacle pulls Wildchild to his feet and traps his right arm behind him in a hammerlock before shoving him into the corner, slamming his unprotected right shoulder into the solid steel ringpost! As Wildchild staggers backwards away from the ringpost, Van Siclen raises the lead pipe above his head…

 

 

CRUNCH!

 

 

… And swings it down onto that same shoulder, distorting it in horrific fashion!

 

 

“Thor’s Hammer,” gasps Comet. That’s despicable!” As Wildchild clutches his shoulder, crying in pain, the Spectacle walks behind him and pulls up the padding covering the arena floor.

 

“Johnny Dangerous wanted to know when Van Siclen was going to start to get vicious,” mocks Riley. “Well, it looks like tonight’s the night!”

 

CRACK!

 

Van Siclen picks the lead pipe back up and cracks Wildchild over the head with it, and then drags him over to the exposed concrete, lifting him up in a scoop slam…

 

 

CRUNCH!

 

 

… AND SLAMMING HIS ALREADY-DISLOCATED SHOULDER INTO THE CONCRETE!

 

 

“Merciful heavens,” whines Comet. “This is cruel and unusual! Mike Van Siclen is crippling Wildchild out here, and Johnny Dangerous is helpless to do anything about it! Somebody please put a stop to this!”

 

But, sadly, no one comes to Wildchild’s aid. “Well, apparently Wildchild isn’t as popular backstage as you’d like to believe,” crows Riley. “I’m sure Mike Van Siclen isn’t the only one of the boys that he’s alienated with his elitist attitude, and holding people down!”

 

“Where the hell do you come up with these ridiculous conspiracy theories,” barks Comet.

 

“Hey,” replies Riley, “don’t shoot the messenger; I’m just relaying what I keep hearing in the back. I happen to have it on good authority that a lot, maybe even a MAJORITY of the boys are happy to see what’s happening to Wildchild right now!” The Spectacle leans over Wildchild, spewing an unintelligible stream of obscenities at the Bahama Bomber before jerking him up harshly by his separated shoulder. Using a ferocious double axe-handle to double Wildchild over, Van Siclen moves in front of him to trap him in a standing head-scissors wrapping his arms around the Caribbean’s waist before lifting his lower body off the ground, and then lifting his legs over Wildchild’s arms.

 

“No,” pleads Comet, “Don’t do this! By all that’s good in the world, Michael, don’t do this!”

 

 

CRUNCH!

 

 

The Spectacle leaps into the air and drops to his knees, pulverizing Wildchild with the Riot Act!

 

 

“My Goodness,” cries Comet. “That’s sick! That’s sadistic! Mike Van Siclen may have just ended Wildchild’s career!”

 

“Well,” says Riley, pausing thoughtfully, “don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out!”

 

“Dammit, Robert, you go too far!” As Comet and Riley continue to bicker, Van Siclen looks down at Wildchild contemptuously, spitting on him before looking out triumphantly at the crowd. The Richmond fans rain debris down on the Spectacle, booing him incessantly…

 

 

As we:

FADE OUT

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

“I’m head of the class… I’m popular.”

 

The opening lines to “Popular” by Nada Surf hit the P.A. system at the Richmond Coliseum, and the fans begin booing as gold pyro begins to fountain out of the top of the entrance ramp, signaling the arrival of Mike Van Siclen!

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon says from the entrance ramp, “the following contest is scheduled for ONE fall, and will be conducted under hardcore rules, for the S – W – F HAAAAARD – CORE CHAMPIONSHIP! Introducing first, weighing in at two-hundred and twenty-six pounds, he hails from Harrison, Illinois, MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE VAN SIIIIIIC-LEN!”

 

The crowd’s booing intensifies as Van Siclen steps out from behind the curtain, the trembling fury of earlier gone from his body but the cold look in his eyes still there as he walks down the ramp, not paying attention to the legions of fans booing his every step!

 

“Folks, welcome back to Lockdown,” Bobby Riley says from the announcers’ booth, “and if you’re just tuning in, well, you missed a vicious assault by Mike Van Siclen on the Wildchild. We still aren’t updated on Wildchild’s condition, but we fear the worst, both for Wildchild’s physical state and Mike Van Siclen’s emotional state.”

 

“Mike Van Siclen is a habitual linestepper,” Comet says, “but tonight he stepped so far over the line that I’m forced to hope that Jimmy ‘the Demon’ Liston of all people can beat him back over it.”

 

The crowd continues booing as Van Siclen slides into the ring, staring at the ramp and waiting for the Demon’s arrival. Suddenly, the lights go dark, and a string orchestra can be heard playing a sweetly disturbing tune. The Smarktron comes to life, simply displaying a white ankh. Pyros flash as they climb the ramp, from ringside to entrance. The screen flashes as drums and guitar join in Cradle of Filth's "Born in a Burial Gown". A burst of flame announces the arrival of Liston, and the crowd allows themselves to cheer a little bit as Liston steps to the top of the ramp, the Hardcore championship slung over his shoulder. He begins walking down the ramp… but he gets LEVELED by a lariat from Van Siclen, sending him back-first to the steel ramp! Liston hits hard, his body rattling the cold steel as the house lights abruptly come up, showing a pained Liston being hefted to his feet by a very, very angry Van Siclen.

 

“Mike Van Siclen wasting absolutely no time here,” says Riley, “that bell has rung, and now there’s nothing that can stop the self-proclaimed Spectacle.”

 

Van Siclen grabs Liston by the hair, dragging the Demon down the ramp and sliding his body into the ring, and then sliding into the ring behind him. Van Siclen grabs Liston by the hair, lifting him to his feet and locking up with the Demon. Jimmy quickly grabs the upper hand, grabbing Van Siclen by the wrist and going to the side, locking Mike in an arm wrench. Van Siclen, however, has seen this move countless times before and knows how to reverse it, pulling Jimmy right into a huge knee to the stomach!

 

The Demon doubles over, letting go of Van Siclen’s arm, and Mike quickly takes advantage, putting Liston into a standing headscissors! Van Siclen quickly lifts Jimmy up, parallel to his body in piledriver position, the set-up to Van Siclen’s Riot Act!

 

“This match could be over far quicker than any of us imagined!” Riley calls.

 

Indeed, Van Siclen holds Liston there for a few moments, grinning savagely – but Liston quickly takes advantage of Van Siclen’s pause, wrapping his legs around the Spectacle’s neck and arching his back, snapping Mike over with a hurricanrana! The crowd pops for Liston, showing their support in the fight against Van Siclen as the Demon gets to his feet, pacing around and trying to catch his breath.

 

Liston turns back to Van Siclen, grabbing the Spectacle by the hair and lifting him to his feet. Jimmy grabs Van Siclen by the arm, looking to whip him into the ropes, but Mike reverses slickly and whips Liston into the turnbuckle! Jimmy hits hard, and Van Siclen walks to the corner with an undeniably smarmy swagger, stopping short of Liston and scratching his nuts – before rearing back and slapping the Demon in the face with the same hand!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

 

Liston’s face snaps over to the side, seething from the show of disrespect from Van Siclen, and the Demon charges at Mike, looking for some vengeance – only to get lifted high into the air by the Spectacle, then dropped neck-first against the top rope with a vicious stungun! The crowd boos some more, not appreciating Van Siclen’s offence, but Mike merely turns back to work on the Demon, sprawled in the ring clutching his neck.

 

“Van Siclen has targeted the head and neck of Liston early,” Riley says, “but seems to have put more focus into simply humiliating the Demon!”

 

“Well, he’s doing an excellent job of it!” Comet cries. “My loss to Stubby P. McWeed wasn’t as humiliating as this!”

 

Van Siclen grabs Liston by the hair, lifting the Demon to his feet by his long, black locks. Van Siclen keeps a hold on Jimmy’s hair, pulling the Demon’s face close to his own and spitting venomous words in his face, showing the utter hate and resentment that has built up for the Boston native since the Triple Quadruple match. Jimmy winces, obviously wishing Van Siclen would let go of his hair, but Mike shows no signs of letting go, dragging Liston over to a corner and slamming him face-first into the turnbuckle!

 

“MI – CHAEL SUCKS! MI – CHAEL SUCKS!”

 

The negativity of the fans doesn’t get to Van Siclen as he continues the onslaught on Liston, grabbing Jimmy by the arm and whipping him hard into the ropes! The Demon hits them hard, coming back fast and furious at Van Siclen, who swings his arm out in the hopes of catching Liston with a lariat – but Jimmy ducks underneath it, hitting the opposite ropes! Liston comes flying back at Van Siclen, obviously looking for some big move, but Van Siclen times his spin perfectly and clubs Liston in the side of the face with a huge forearm! Liston hits the mat hard, grabbing his neck in pain, and Van Siclen dives on top for the cover!

 

“OOOOOOONE!”

 

“TWOOOOOO!”

 

 

“THR – NO!” Liston kicks out at two!

 

“Liston makes the kickout,” Riley says, “but he’s obviously in a bad way right here – Van Siclen has dominated this match from the word go!”

 

Van Siclen gets to his feet, his eyes glittering as he grabs Liston by the hair once more, lifting the Demon to his feet and whipping him hard into the ropes! Jimmy comes back strong, however, rolling over and looking to catch him with a spinning heel kick…

 

But Mike catches him in midair! The crowd boos as Van Siclen grins, maneuvering Liston onto his shoulder and leaping forward, dropping the Demon on his back with a stiff powerslam! Mike grabs the fallen Demon, lifting him to his feet and grabbing him by the arm, looking to whip Liston into the ropes – but Jimmy reverses, using all of his might to send Van Siclen into the turnbuckle! The crowd roars at Jimmy’s sudden burst of offence, as Liston grins, walking with SWAGGER~! over to Van Siclen and reaching back with his left hand, looking at it quickly before bringing it across the left side of Mike’s face with a huge slap!

 

The fans roar at the show of disrespect, not much respecting Van Siclen themselves, and Mike’s head snaps over to the right side, only to get clubbed in the face by a right forearm from Liston! Mike slides down the turnbuckle a bit, but the champion grabs the Spectacle under the chin, rearing back and catching him HARD across the chest with a knife-edged chop!

 

*THWACK!* “WHOOOOOOOO!”

 

The challenger grabs his stomach in pain, welts already forming as Liston plants a palm in Van Siclen’s stomach, shoving him back into the turnbuckle and cupping his chin once more, rearing back and catching the Spectacle across the stomach with another knife-edged chop!

 

*THWACK!* “WHOOOOOOOO!”

 

Van Siclen again grabs his stomach in pain as Liston backs out of the corner, winking at the camera before running at Mike, looking to avalanche him – but Van Siclen sees it coming and steps forward, ducking down and wrapping both arms around Liston’s legs! The Spectacle lifts the Demon high into the air, dropping him and letting him fall face-first to the unforgiving turnbuckle below! The crowd begins booing again as Van Siclen looks out at them, nodding his head as Liston rolls around on the mat, clutching his jaw in pain. Van Siclen slides to the outside, looking to introduce some weapons into the match, as the crowd begins roaring for Liston to get to his feet!

 

“Listen to this crowd support Jimmy Liston!” Comet cries. “Jimmy spectrefugue Liston, of all people!”

 

“What the bloody hell is a spectrefugue?”

 

“I don’t know, it’s fun though.”

 

Van Siclen lifts up the LOCKDOWN ring apron, rummaging around under the ring and looking for some toys to play with inside the ring. The hardcore environment is not really his style, but he grabs the first thing he can spot – in this case, a large STOP sign – and holds it up in front of his face, looking to slide it into the ring…

 

*CRACK!*

 

But instead of the sign sliding, it is into the sign that is slid! Jimmy ‘the Demon’ Liston comes off of the ropes, sliding hard into the sign and sending it straight into Van Siclen’s head with a huge baseball slide dropkick! The crowd roars for Liston as Van Siclen drops like a John Mayer single on the Billboard charts.

 

“Van Siclen just got thump-thump-THUMPED in the face, amigo!” Comet yells.

 

“How about you thump-thump-thump yourself straight to hell,” an angered Riley grumbles.

 

Liston looks over the top rope, at the downed body of Van Siclen with the huge STOP sign resting on his stomach, and his face breaks into a huge grin. His smile starts a chain reaction, the crowd heating up as Liston charges to the opposite ropes once more, bouncing off of them and coming back, vaulting over the top rope and falling, his feet acting like a guided missile, aimed directly at the red area between the T and the O…

 

*CRACK!*

 

…as Liston lands with a huge STOMP on the stop sign on Van Siclen’s stomach, driving the cold metal into Van Siclen’s sternum with his two-hundred twenty-eight pounds frame! Van Siclen looks almost like his stomach has caved in as he gasps for air, the crowd roaring for Liston as he nimbly hops off of the challenger, kicking the STOP sign off his felled body and lifting him to his feet, rolling him back into the ring.

 

“Liston with the HUGE stomp on Van Siclen’s chest!” Riley calls, “and that’s too sadistic for me NOT to love it!”

 

Liston grabs Van Siclen, lifting him into a standing headscissors! Liston wraps both arms around the challenger’s waist, lifting the Spectacle up into powerbomb position as the crowd roars, two-hundred and twenty pounds on the Demon’s shoulders as he falls forward, driving Van Siclen’s back right into the thin protective mats with a vicious falling powerbomb! The crowd boos as Liston stands up, going to the apron and reaching under the ring to grab some weapons, oblivious to Van Siclen…

 

…who sits up, a wild-eyed smile on his face. The Spectacle gets to his feet, going over to Liston and grabbing him in a rear waistlock! He lifts the Demon up, throwing him back and over his body with a vicious German suplex the very nearly sends Liston headfirst into the barricade! The crowd erupts in boos as Van Siclen gets to his feet, walking coldly up to Liston’s head. He lifts one boot high into the air, sizing up the champion’s head for a second before driving his boot down onto it, much to the disgust of the crowd.

 

“Jimmy Liston is a marked man, Comet. Van Siclen is going to absolutely MURDER him!”

 

“Ah, have no fears, Bobbo. Mike will get his daily dose of JUSTICE~! as… what the heck are you doing?”

 

Mike shoves Comet, knocking the superhero into Riley’s lap! Van Siclen grins, tipping an invisible hat to Comet as he grabs the superhero’s announce chair, folding it up and putting it under his shoulder as he walks back over to Liston, grinning like a madman. Riley smirks as Liston gets to his feet, turning around and looking for some serious revenge!…

 

*CRACK!*

 

*CRACK!*

 

…but instead, he gets two Van Siclen chairshots to his back! The crowd boos like mad as Van Siclen backs off, tossing the chair to the crowd before going back to Liston, lifting the nearly crippled Demon to his feet!

 

“Comet, do you need a chair?” Riley says with a giggle.

 

“Ha, that’s so unfunny, Bobbo… yeah, I do.”

 

Van Siclen grabs Liston by the arm, backing up and whipping Liston straight into the barricade! Liston hits it chest-first, and as he stumbles back Van Siclen follows up, pancaking Liston between his body and the barricade! Liston falls to his knees, but Van Siclen grabs him by the hair, lifting the Demon back to his full height. Van Siclen, controlling the Demon’s movements through the hold on his dark locks, pulls Liston’s hair back, looking to mash his face into the barricade…

 

…but the Demon gets his hands in the way, blocking the move! Van Siclen, frustrated, pulls Liston’s head back once more – but this time, Liston grabs Van Siclen by the head, slamming his head into the barricade! The crowd roars in support of the domination of the Spectacle as Van Siclen stumbles back, facing the ring, and the Demon quickly steps forward and rolls Van Siclen back into the ring, following close behind and grabbing Van Siclen, pulling him into the middle of the ring.

 

The Demon catches Mike with a swift knee to the gut, doubling the Spectacle over. Taking his time, the champion slaps on a side headlock, grabbing Van Siclen by the top of his black tights and lifting him up into suplex position, spinning around before falling backwards, dropping Van Siclen to the mat with a corkscrew suplex! The crowd cheers the maneuver as Jimmy floats over into the textbook cover.

 

“OOOOOONE!”

 

 

“TWOOOOOO!”

 

 

“NO!” Van Siclen kicks out, and Jimmy grabs him by the hair, lifting the Spectacle to his feet. Viciously, the Demon grabs the challenger by the arm, whipping him into the corner once more. The crowd begins booing, growing rather sick of Liston as he walks closer to Van Siclen, cupping the Illinois native’s chin in his hand! Liston reaches way back, obviously looking to bring the pain as…

 

*THWACK!* “WHOOOOOOO!”

 

He delivers a STIFF knife-edged chop to Van Siclen’s sternum!

 

“Knife-edged chop by Jimmy,” Riley points out, a bit giddy, “and the Demon is channeling Ric Flair!”

 

“Old Ric Flair,” Comet asks with a grin, “or old, senile, and seemingly drunk of his ass half the time Ric Flair?”

 

The bigger Demon cups Van Siclen’s chin again, reaching way down deep before lashing forward…

 

*THWACK!*

 

With a huge knife-edged chop!

 

“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Despite the whooing, the crowd is definitely booing, as Liston backs up cockily, seemingly setting up for an avalanche. However, Liston appears to remember what happened the last time he tried an avalanche – stungun, anyone? – and thinks the better of it, going back to the corner and grabbing Van Siclen by the arm, pulling him back hard and looking to whip him hard into the opposite corner… but Van Siclen reverses it, sending Liston careening into the turnbuckle!

 

Van Siclen looks at Liston, and then points up at the sky, shouting out two letters.

 

“DUB CEEEEEE!”

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

“Van Siclen calling out Wildchild’s initials,” Riley says, “and he’s not winning any friends here in the Memorial Coliseum!”

 

Van Siclen looks daggers at Liston, then charges into the corner, leaping before he hits Liston and spinning around 360º before splashing Liston hard into the corner, using the move Wildchild called the Blue Crush! The fans cry out in boos at the seeming sacrilege of Van Siclen as he backs up, allowing Liston to fall face-first to the canvas.

 

“Van Siclen using the Blue Crush,” Riley calls once more, “obviously mocking the Wildchild! And I’ve just been informed that Van Siclen calls that the Answer!”

 

“…but what’s the question?”

 

“Stuff it, Comet.”

 

“Hey, you’re a poet.”

 

“Hey, shut the <expletive> up, freak.”

 

Van Siclen lifts Liston to his feet in the ring, pushing him back against the turnbuckle and then stepping out of the ring himself, going directly behind the turnbuckle in which Liston is standing. The crowd, unsure of what to expect, begins booing anyway as Van Siclen reaches down, grabbing Liston’s leg and folding it over the bottom rope. Van Siclen puts his foot on Liston’s shin, holding the Demon’s leg in place as he reaches forward, wrapping the inside part of his arm around Jimmy’s head in a Dragon sleeper and pulling way-far back, grinding Liston’s back into the turnbuckle!

 

“Van Siclen with the dragon sleeper against the turnbuckle,” Riley cries out, “and he’s looking for the submission victory right here!”

 

Indeed he is, trying to suffocate Liston or break his back or for god’s sake something, just die already, Jimmy! But Liston has more balls than that, and there’s no way he’s just going to give up, especially against somebody he pinned mere days ago. So he resists, and resists, and tries to break the strong submission in place by Van Siclen – but as he flails against the hold Van Siclen maintains his cool, deflecting elbows with his free hand and cinching the dragon sleeper tighter. The referee can do nothing but watch, as Van Siclen slowly begins to cause Liston to lose control and just give in, which has been the intention all along, really.

 

Liston is obviously fading, fading, and Van Siclen can sense it and takes this opportunity to cinch the dragon sleeper even tighter, very nearly folding his arm backwards around the neck of the Demon. Jimmy begins to fall down in the turnbuckle, but Van Siclen keeps him upright, pulling him back against the turnbuckle to prevent him from sliding down it. Liston, now fighting to keep conscious, makes his last dance, swinging his left arm back through the top and middle rope – and he gets lucky, striking Van Siclen in the ribcage! Mike loosens his grip, and Liston, suddenly able to breathe again, takes advantage, grabbing Van Siclen by the arm and flipping him over the top rope and into the ring with a huge armdrag!

 

“DEEEEEEEE – MON! DEEEEEEEE – MON!”

 

“Listen to this Marleyesque chant from the Virgin crowd!” Comet cries. “They’re fully behind the Demon here!”

 

Van Siclen quickly hops down off the ring apron, lifting up the LOCKDOWN apron and rummaging around underneath the ring for a weapon suitable to use in an instance like this, as Liston, in the ring, looks down and sees Van Siclen’s back, vulnerable on the outside. Liston grabs the top rope, waiting for the right opportunity to vault over the top and absolutely MURDER Van Siclen with a big move, and as Van Siclen backs up Liston leans back and slingshots himself over the top, flying at Van Siclen with a plancha…

 

*CRACK!*

 

…only to catch a vicious Kendo stick to the ribs! Liston crumples in midair, falling to the protective mats and grabbing his stomach in a WORLD of hurt, as Van Siclen looks down, lifting up the Kendo stick…

 

*CRACK!*

 

Another shot to the ribs! Liston crumples, still in pain, but Van Siclen is furious, and all the hatred of the past couple of weeks seems to personify itself in the Kendo shots!

 

*CRACK!*

 

Losing the ICTV fall!

 

*CRACK!*

 

Losing the Hardcore fall!

 

*CRACK!*

 

Losing the tag belts to Wild and Dangerous!

 

*CRACK!*

 

Failing to regain them at Battleground!

 

*CRACK!*

 

Getting pinned by Jimmy ‘The Demon’ Liston!

 

*CRACK!*

 

… and Van Siclen tosses the Kendo stick away, looking down at Liston, in a ball on the mats on the outside, crumpled into a fetal position. So vulnerable, as the repeated blows to the ribs have left him devoid of breath, and devoid of will to fight. Van Siclen, finally a tad bit calmer, drops to his knees, making the cover. The referee, nearly worthless before now, gets down on the outside to count the fall…

 

“OOOOOONE!”

 

 

“TWOOOOOO!”

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEE!”

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

Van Siclen gets to his feet, wiping sweat and hair out of his eyes as the timekeeper hands him the Hardcore belt. He raises it high in the air, as Funyon announces his victory in the background, but it doesn’t really matter, does it?

 

“Look at that mean streak by Van Siclen,” Riley says, “taking out all his frustration on Wildchild earlier tonight, and now Jimmy ‘the Demon’ Liston. God, I hope he’s a little bit happier now that he has some gold around his waist. We’ll be back…”

 

FADE OUT.

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

The Richmond crowd explodes back into life as the Lockdown cameras fire up into life once again. The sold out Coliseum crowd as been making a huge noise all night and shows no signs of quieting down yet. “ALLISON SUCKS COCK!” signs are held by fans all around the arena along with a few “R.I.P. UNHOLY TRINITY!” banners. The camps of John Duran and Danny Williams fans have taken up opposite sides of the arena from each other, trading smart insults as the evening goes on.

 

Comet: Welcome back to SWF Lockdown … with me … CYCLONE COMET! And my ever lucky co-host … Bobby Riley!

 

Riley: It’s like a never ending nightmare isn’t it. Still I got a kick out of seeing Aecas and Janus trying to co-exist against Clark and West earlier on in the show. And I’m going to love it when Duran beats the crap out of Danny Williams, proving once again why he’s the greatest World Champion since Va’aiga.

 

Comet: Well, he’s got a long way to go if he wants to beat Citizen Williams this time around Riley. But before that, Miss Onita looks to take her recent frustrations out on someone, anyone. It just so happens that Citizen Night is that person.

 

Riley: He’s male, Ann’s going to rip his balls off and shove them down his through then throw him into a meat grinder. I just hope she doesn’t get Dqed too soon. And Dace messing her up just like Tom Flesher did could still be fun.

 

Comet: You really like seeing the good people of this federation hurt each other don’t you Bobby? Especially when it’s great and noble competitors.

 

Riley: Well you know, I enjoy all the little pleasures I can get.

 

In the ring, Funyon starts to make his announcement for the next match up.

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, the following one on one contest will be for one fall. Introducing firstly, from Tokyo Japan, weighing in at one hundred and seventy five pounds … ANN ‘ICHIBAN’ ONITA!

 

Yyyyyyyyaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Risky Gamble starts up over the arena as Onita’s image flares up on the Smarktron. As the image spins around, a huge round of blue pyro lights up the top of the ramp. Striding out, Ann gives a few glances to the crowd, only slapping hands with women as she makes her way to the ring. Rolling under the ropes into the ring, Ann climbs the turnbuckles and looks out into the sea of fans before dropping back to the mat. Cracking her neck from side to side, Onita paces the ring like a caged animal, looking down the entrance ramp. Funyon tries to keep as much distance between himself and Ichiban as he can.

 

Funyon: And her opponent, from Birmingham England, weighing in at two hundred and fifty two pounds … DACE …

 

FUCKING!

 

Funyon: NIGHT!

 

Yyyyyyyaaaaaahhhhhhhh

 

Hero rips into life over the PA with rounds of white pyro lighting up the ramp from bottom to top. Standing in the smoke, Dace stands and grins at the cheering fans before starting to stroll down the ramp. Tagging hands with everyone on his way down, Night circles the ring slowly, watching Ann as he goes. Carefully rolling into the ring, Dace throws the horns to the crowd before turning his attention to Ann Onita. Dace extends his hand toward Onita for a hand shake but she simply stares it, doing nothing. Shrugging it off with a quick smile, Dace starts to clap his hands together, build up the crowd as Soapdish takes up his position between the two.

 

CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!

 

Comet: Miss Onita looks like she doesn’t want to touch a man at the moment unless it’s to beat the hell out of them.

 

Riley: I’m sure that’s going to make it all the worse for Dace. Oh well another one for my favourite collection then.

 

Comet: Robert you really worry me sometimes, you know that. But it looks like these two are about to kick things into action.

 

Shooting forwards, Dace tries to muscle his way into a collar and elbow tie up, looking to try the same crushing wave offensive that defeated Onita so badly in her recent matches. Skipping backwards, Onita backs away from Horrorcore and circles around him, diving in with random faints only to fade back into the edges of the ring. Spreading his arms, Night just waves Onita on, inviting her to come and get him. Pausing for a moment, Ichiban narrows her eyes, glaring at Dace before stepping in. Swinging up her left leg, Ann tries to drive her boot right into Horrorcore’s face. Snapping his arm up, Dace blocks the blow and slaps Ann’s leg away, only to get drilled in the face by her fist. A second punch follows it, and then a third, and then Onita connects with a bone crunching kick to the face.

 

SMACK! Oooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Jamming her knee into Dace’s mid section like a battering ram, Ann drags him down onto his keeps. Taking a vice like grip on Night’s neck, Ann starts to unload wave after wave of knee strikes into his face, snapping his head back like a boxing dummy with each blow. Leaping back a short set, Ann gives herself just enough room to swing a hammer kick into Night’s face and send him sprawling to the mat like a rag doll. Diving forwards, Onita makes a quick cover, trying to pile all her frame onto Dace’s shoulders as she does so.

Soapdish slides in along side to start the count.

 

……ONE! Kickout!

 

Rrrrrrrrraaaaaahhhhhhhhh!

 

ON-ITA! ON-ITA! ON-ITA! ON-ITA! ON-ITA!

 

Comet: Miss Onita is attacking like wild animal! Dace is just a focal point for all her rage right now and he’s really feeling it.

 

Riley: Damn unpredictable woman and their rage and this and that. Stuff them I say.

 

Scrambling across the mat, Dace latches on to the safety of the ropes and hauls himself back to his feet. Shaking his head, trying to clear it out from the rush of shots. Night back paddles along the ropes, trying to keep Onita out of range as she swipes at him with High Kicks. Batting a wild kick away, Dace surges forwards into Ann like tidal wave, ramming into her and drilling her with round after round of Elbow Smashes to the face. Forcing her all the way back into the corner, Dace wasted no time in launching her across the ring like a rag doll. Slamming into the opposite set of turnbuckles so hard she bounces, Ann can only watch through barely eyes as Dace races towards her across the ring.

 

BAM! Yyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE!

 

Comet: YAKUZA KICK! Citizen Night just nailed Ann like a tank and dropped her to the mat!

 

Riley: Ahh bugger and I was almost enjoying this match as well. I bet he was just afraid to be beaten on by a girl.

 

Grabbing Onita by the collar of her shirt, Dace snaps her up into a sitting position, and right into his knee, cracking it into her face. Hauling Ichiban back to her feet, Dace keeps his hold, swatting away Ann’s effort to lash out with her fist. Clamping on a Front Facelock, Horrorcore dings an elbow into the back of Onita’s neck before scooping her up into the air with a Vertical Suplex. Pausing for a moment, Dace lets the blood run into Onita’s battered head before throwing his legs out, spiking her into the mat with a Sheer Drop Brainbuster.

 

Rrrrrrraaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Rolling back to his feet, still keeping the hold clenched on, Horrorcore slams his need into Ichiban’s gut before grabbing both her arms into Double Underhook. Struggling weakly, Ann tries to fight her way out as Dace spikes her backwards into the mat, compressing her skull and neck with a High Angle Double Arm DDT. Floating over, Night cradles up Ann Onita’s legs as Soapdish dives in to count the falls.

 

Comet: DEFENESTRATION! It’s over!

 

“One!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Two!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Three!”

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Funyon: Here is your winner … DACE…

 

FUCKING!

 

Funyon: NIGHT!

 

DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE!

 

Comet: Citizen Night just ran straight through Miss Onita like a wrecking ball. It looks like she’s still not recovered from her Ladder Match with Tom Flesher.

 

Riley: Will, she should know better than to wrestle then shouldn’t she.

 

Comet: Still, Onita is a fighter and that’s what she’s doing. I don’t think anyone is going to stop her from doing that soon.

 

Rolling out of the ring, Dace leans against the apron, wiping his face and sighing as Ann Onita lays in the ring, still unmoving as we …Fade Out.

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

COMMERCIAL:

 

A spotty, overweight teenager is sitting on the couch eagerly playing the most recent SWF game - the slightly outdated “SWF: What’s My Name?” featuring the Maori Badass on the cover. Abruptly, Tom Flesher strolls in and sits down on the couch next to him.

 

KID: Hey, Tom Flesher! What’re you doing here?

 

FLESHER: Who the hell are you?

 

Flesher Shotei’s the kid off the couch and nicks his controller before going on to beat a pixellated Ann Onita mercilessly with a chair.

 

“SMARK YOUR TV!”

 

 

Comet, I’ve always wondered something,” Bobby Riley says as the live feed returns to the Richmond Coliseum in Virginia.

 

“And that is, Robert?” the superhero replies.

 

“How exactly do you ‘Smark Your TV’?”

 

“A good question, Bobbo,” the masked man muses. “I suspect it has something to do with complaining that a button on the remote is being held down and moaning about how screens over 22 inches just aren’t as good as smaller ones… Still, we have something much more important coming up tonight!”

 

“Oh, indeed we do!” Riley responds brightly.

 

“We… do?” Comet asks, confused at Riley’s enthusiasm and shooting his partner a curious glance. “I was referring to the Dave Night versus Ann Onita match that’s booked next, but I wouldn’t have thought that would have appealed to you…”

 

“Oh, it doesn’t,” Riley cheerfully acknowledges. “I’m talking about this!” Without further ado the colour commentator gestures towards the entrance ramp, and some vaguely familiar music starts up… the remix of Elvis’ ‘A Little Less Conversation’!

 

“Oh no,” Comet moans as a quiffed, jumpsuited individual with huge rose-tinted sunglasses and far too many rings and medallions appears at the top of the ramp, “not him!”

 

“Yes Comet, it’s him!” Riley replies with glee.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, making his way to the ring at this time,” Funyon booms, “he is a representative of Frost Enterprises; THE MEM-PHIS… EEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLL!!”

 

The SWF’s one and only Elvis impersonator waddles, puffs and gently gyrates his way down the ramp, pausing to pose for severely uninterested fans as he does so. Perhaps sensing that his welcome isn’t being increased by his antics the Eel continues on to the ring, slides under the ropes, stands up at the second attempt and proceeds to snatch the microphone from Funyon before waving him away to the corner.

 

“Thank yer; thank y’all,” the Eel begins. “Ah’d jus’ like ter say what a WON-DER-FULL experience it is to be right here in Virginia, yesindeed.” The name causes the crowd to pop – a little raggedly, to be sure, but the response is there. Smiling cheesily, the Eel waggles his hips momentarily before continuing. “Now ah know that y’all folks here don’t have the nicest place in the world,” (the cheers suddenly stop and booing takes their place) “but that ain’t nothin’ to worry about, uh-huh-huh! Cos tonight, for the first time eva, you people are gonna be lucky enough ter witness the ULTIMATE in wresslin’-based talkshows, yessir! I present ta you… EELHOUSE ROCK!”

 

“Eelhouse Rock?” Comet asks weakly as the Memphis Eel pauses to shake his hips a little more.

 

“It’s the future of television, Comet!” Riley replies, clearly enthralled by the charismatic host. And not by the wiggling hips at all. No, certainly not.

 

“Now, I hear what y’all are sayin’,” the Eel continues, clearly lying through his teeth as the shouts from the crowd are anything by complimentary, “who could POSS-IB-LY be on the very first, the inauguraralal episode? Well folks, it’s none other than one o’ the brightest an’ most promisin’ young stars of the business today, a man that ah had the PRI-VI-LEGE to referee to a stunnin’ Hardcore victory jus’ a few weeks ago, uh-huh-huh! Ladies an’ gennlemen, ah give you the Ess-Dubya-Eff Intercontinental-Television Champion – TOXXIC!”

 

The booing of the crowd rises in volume as the crunching guitars of Lostprophets’ ‘We Still Kill The Old Way’ blast out over the arena’s PA system and the blacked-out Smarktron flashes up the words ‘Prepare To Be Proved Wrong’. It cuts to a shot of Toxxic taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table with the Toxxic Shock Syndrome, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the…

 

‘GO!’

 

BOOOM!!

 

…blast of red pyro that announces the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger! As the smoke clears Toxxic strides out from the backstage area, ICTV belt draped over his right shoulder but with the blue plastic neck brace still in place. Ignoring the jeers and catcalls that pour down on him from the Virginia crowd the Straight-Edge Sensation marches down to the ring, rolls under the bottom rope and ascends the turnbuckle, sweeping his arms wide, palms flat.

 

“That man is an inspiration to the entire Federation!” Bobby Riley declares as the Brit drops back down to the canvas. “He is a former Hardcore Gamer’s Champion, a two-time ICTV champion and he had the guts to stand up to Mark Stevens!”

 

Heedless of Riley’s arse-licking Toxxic takes the microphone handed to him by the Memphis Eel and stares out at the crowd, who respond in the only way they know:

 

“TOX-XIC SUCKS!”

“TOX-XIC SUCKS!”

“TOX-XIC SUCKS!”

 

“And I thought you’d forgotten me!” the straight-edger declares sarcastically. He raises one hand to his neck. “Well I’m sorry to disappoint you all, but this little memento from Battleground is going to be coming off any day now, and come Smarkdown you will ALL have the pleasure of watching me in this ring again.” The crowd seem less than pleased by that news but the Memphis Eel stands to one side and applauds his ‘guest’. Toxxic hears the noise of two slightly damp palms flapping together and turns back to his host, then raises the mic to his lips again.

 

“And I’d like to thank the Memphis Eel for giving me this time to express my thoughts to you all.” The Eel preens, and makes a self-deprecating gesture. “Unfortunately,” Toxxic continues, his voice hardening, “I can’t, because the last time I saw this overweight sack of excrement he’d just Stunnered me following my victory over the Inane Luchador.” The Eel starts to back away as the words leave the Straight-Edge Sensation’s lips, and as Toxxic drops his mic and his title belt the portly Elvis impersonator raises his hands, begging off – but if there’s one thing Toxxic hates it’s a display of weakness, and the Brit swiftly boots the Memphis Eel in the gut, wrenches his arms up behind his back and brings him UP…

 

…AROUND…

 

…AND…

 

…DOWN!!

 

*WHAM!!*

 

“Toxxic Shock Syndrome!” Comet calls in astonishment. “Toxxic just delivered the Toxxic Shock Syndrome to the man who invited him out here! Citizens, I don’t know whether to be pleased or horrified, so I’ll settle for mildly amused!”

 

“That’s awful!” Riley blurts out. “Toxxic just attacked a helpless Eel! They should be making a common cause against the Mark Stevens and Dace Nights of the world!”

 

Half the crowd seem to be supporting the Straight-Edge Sensation and cheering for the demise of the Eel, the other half appear to have quite liked the be-quiffed one and are booing just as hard as ever. Ignoring both groups – and indeed the Eel, who is now lying on his back, hands crossed on his chest and displaying no vital signs – Toxxic retrieves his microphone and starts speaking once more.

 

“When the Memphis Eel originally invited me out here, I was going to talk about Battleground,” the straight-edger begins. “I was going to talk about how I won this belt” he taps the ICTV title with his foot “and how Aecas dropped me on my head through a table.”

 

“YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!”

“LET’S GO AE-CAS!”

“LET’S GO AE-CAS!”

“LET’S GO AE-CAS!”

 

Toxxic listens to the chants for a few seconds, an expression of disgust on his face before he starts to speak again.

 

“I thought that would please you,” he tells the fans in attendance. “But tell me one thing; why aren’t you chanting ‘TRI-NITY!’, eh? Oh yeah, I’ll tell you – because it’s dead! The group that the Black Angel belonged to is history, people, and now he’s lumbered with that psychotic jerk-off of a Hell Machine.” Toxxic smiles again and leans back against a turnbuckle.

 

“However, amusing as the demise of the Unhygienic Trinity is, that’s not what I came out here to talk about. I changed my mind. I want to talk about something that happened last show, something involving YOUR new World Heavyweight Champion John Duran… and a man known to you all as Nathaniel Kibagami.”

 

“SIIII-LENT!”

“SIIII-LENT!”

“SIIII-LENT!”

 

“Yes, well done, you’ve mastered basic word recognition,” Toxxic snaps, clearly irritated. “What I want to know is; who in the hell does Nathanial Origami think he is, coming out on the first show post-PPV and demanding a title shot?”

 

“I’ll tell you who he is,” Comet answers as the fans begin to boo the Brit’s words again, “he’s a better man than you’ll ever be!”

 

Toxxic stands in the middle of the ring, listening as shouts and jeers cascade all around him. The people hate him; he’s come to accept that, although it still rankles. He no longer tries to hear what they’re saying, in case he can make out the words. But there is one word that is repeated again and again in the cacophony, one that is gradually taken up by more and more throats until it drowns out everything else.

 

“SIIII-LENT!”

“SIIII-LENT!”

“SIIII-LENT!”

 

“WHY ARE YOU SAYING THAT NAME!?” Toxxic finally shouts in exasperation. “Don’t you know who Silent IS, you bunch of imbeciles? Silent is not Kibagami! Even I know that!” Now angered beyond belief the Straight-Edge Sensation launches a vicious kick at the ribs of the still-prone Memphis Eel, sending the Elvis impersonator out to the floor. “Silent is the man who removed Edwin MacPhisto, the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache, from competition PERMANENTLY! Whereas Kibagami just can’t win! Whichever name he goes by, he is not a man to be admired!”

 

“You know, I think he has a point Comet,” Riley says.

 

“The day Toxxic has a point, Riley, will be the day that Crow turns straight-edge,” Comet replies.

 

“How exactly does Kibagami think that he deserves a title shot?” Toxxic asks the crowd, having calmed down slightly. “Let’s just look at his track record shall we? He makes his grand return… only to tap out to Alan Clark the Psycho Hippy. Now, it was his first match back in several months, he might have been a bit rusty, we can give him that one,” the Brit continues, counting off on his fingers. “Of course, just prior to Battleground he was involved in that match against the Hell Machine… which he lost. But of course he went out there expecting Terrence Bailey and got Janus instead, so let’s be charitable and let him off that one too.” Toxxic looks up and addresses his next words not at the crowd, but towards the backstage area where even now Nathaniel Kibagami is probably preparing to meet Todd Cortez later tonight.

 

“But in between those two matches you had another one, didn’t you?” he asks the absent River Dragon. “And that was against me. And I took you, and I dropped you on your swollen head, and I BEAT you. And I’d dearly love to hear your excuse for that one, unless you can bring yourself to admit the simple fact that I am better than you, sunshine!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

“Not on your best day!” Comet yells from the commentary position. “You’re talking about the only man in the SWF who holds a victory over Edwin MacPhisto!”

 

Toxxic looks around the crowd; the sea of angry, baying faces that are yelling abuse, waving fists and giving him the middle finger. And despite himself, he starts to smile again. When he joined the SWF he had an image of himself as someone whom the fans would cheer, would love, someone they would come to their feet for. Most of the crowd are indeed on their feet, but for an entirely different reason. But for once, that doesn’t matter to him. Whichever way you paint it, this is still control.

 

“Who have you beaten in your current run, Kibagami?” the Straight-Edge Sensation asks rhetorically. “One man; our current Commissioner, Alexander Zenon. A man who has never beaten you. A man who hasn’t been in the ring for what, two years? Now I’m willing to admit I may have missed something, but since when did beating an out-of-shape ex-wrestler whose only notable exploits in recent years have come as Commissioner ever shown anyone to be a great competitor?” Toxxic grins, and bends down to pick up his ICTV Title before looking towards the backstage area once more.

 

“Face it, you picked up as many losses in two weeks as I suffered in three bloody months, and I was wrestling on every single damn show! Now if you have an explanation for why you think you can jump the queue and put yourself up to challenge whoever wins out of Roidmonkey Williams and ‘The Notorious Ponce’ John Duran, feel free to come out here and give it to me!” Toxxic leans over the ropes, the grin still on his face, and watches the ramp expectantly. As does the Virginia crowd. But as the seconds pass no passage from ‘The Art Of War’ appears on the Smarktron, and the notes of Nevermore do not ring out across the arena. The River Dragon Has Not Come.

 

“This is preposterous, Robert!” Comet splutters. “Citizen Kibagami is fully focused on meeting Todd Cortez later tonight - in fact knowing him, he’s probably right now watching tapes of the Urban Legend’s matches in order to prepare. It’s very likely that he doesn’t even know Toxxic is out here challenging him!”

 

“That’s your story, Comet,” Riley answers. “You’re entitled to your delusions.”

 

“SIIII-LENT!”

“SIIII-LENT!”

“SIIII-LENT!”

 

“You can chant all you want, he’s not coming,” Toxxic tells the expectant audience. “But I’ll tell you what; do all of you drunks, junkies and reprobates want to see Nathaniel Kibagami kick my arse?”

 

“YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!”

 

“I SAID, do you want to see Kibagami kick my arse?”

 

”YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!”

 

“WELL THEN!” Toxxic bellows, turning back to the entrance ramp with a blissful grin on his face. “You heard them, River Dragon! Are you gonna give the people what they want to see? Are you prepared to come and face me for the second time... ON SMARKDOWN!?” The Straight-Edge Sensation reaches up and grabs the back of his neck brace, then tears the entire thing off in one swift movement and flings it aside! “I’m challenging you, Kibagami! If you think you’ve got what it takes to go for the World Title, let’s see you go through the ICTV Champ first!”

 

“Again, this is simply ludicrous!” Comet protests. “Citizen Kibagami has no influence over what matches are booked - in fact, knowing Commissioner Zenon and his vendetta against the River Dragon he might even not make the match simply in order to try and make Kibagami look like a coward!”

 

“It’s good to see you have your excuses ready before the event,” Riley smirks. “I believe the Whitehouse should hire you!”

 

“I’ll look forward to seeing how you fare against Todd Cortez tonight, Kibagami,” Toxxic continues with his lopsided grin in place. “I’ll be very interested indeed to see what happens when you take on my fellow straight-edger. But as for me, I am going to blow this joint right now - if you’ll excuse the expression.” The Brit sidles over to the ropes and steps through - then pauses, and sits down on the middle cable to deliver a final thought.

 

“I am proud to be Intercontinental-Television Champion. One day I WILL become World Champion. But until then, I will be DAMNED if I’m going to let a washed-up junkie with no winning streak leapfrog over me into the main event. If you thought I wouldn’t remember our last meeting... if you thought that I was going to sit back and let someone else take my spotlight... if above all, you thought that I was going to let myself be ignored... then my friend... you had better PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG!”

 

Throwing the microphone over his shoulder and into the ring, the ICTV Champion vaults lightly down from the apron and heads backstage, the smile fixed on his face. Tonight the people listened. They didn’t want to, but they listened. And they reacted. And now, with any luck, he will have a chance to show them all what he can do again. And he will do it again, and again, and again. And then maybe one day, they will cheer him.

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

With the latest commercial break over, SWF Lockdown returns to an exterior shot of the SWF offices, where the sun is still shining on a bright Wednesday evening. Panning around the outside of the building, and a burnt out Vauxhall Astra parked out front, the camera gives us as complete of a view of the surrounding for the upcoming match, before sweeping inside the building and into one particular office where four muscular men and referee Sexton Hardcastle stand all waiting to do battle.

 

"Welcome back to Lockdown..." Cyclone Comet's voice suddenly hovers in from nowhere. "...you are currently looking at the inside of SWF offices...or one of them, at least. And this office, believe it or not is the sight for our next match. You've seen the famed Mall Brawls through the years, but tonight it's the Office Brawl."

 

"Are we really having to commentate this?" bemoans Bobby Riley in response. "Seriously...these guys are fighting in an office!"

 

"Indeed...which is why it's called the Office Brawl presumably."

 

"Don't take that tone with me. I'm not in the mood tonight, considering all the crap that's going down. John Duran being forced into a match with Danny Williams being top of that list. Landon Maddix having to fight in a damn office being mighty close..."

 

"Speaking of which...where is Landon?"

 

"If he's smart, he'll be at his exclusive Hawaii based beach hut...which by the way he had a hut-warming party for a few days ago. Didn't you get an invite Cyclone?"

 

".....I was busy."

 

 

Indeed, Landon Maddix is missing from the crowd of people in the relatively spacious office. The other competitors are there though...Stryke doing push ups off one of the wooden desks, The Insane Luchador stretching in an attempt to limber up, the rookie Austin Sly glaring at each man in turn as he impatiently waits for action to commence...and Jacob Helmsley, who is of course clutching a lead pipe in his hands and casting a sick grin towards anyone who looks at him. With these four men all ready to fight, referee Hardcastle is now only waiting on Landon...but in the meantime, sensing the impatience of the four men around him, he decides to gather their attentions.

 

/Hardcastle/ - "Now...while we're waiting...here are the rules for this match, the Office Brawl. Around the room you can see stacks of paper in various positions. If you are put through a stack, you are eliminated and must leave the premises. Last man left wins...and receives a shot at the USJL Championship. Is everyone clear on that?"

 

Stryke and Jacob nod, as there is a murmur of confirmation from Sly and IL.

 

/Hardcastle/ - "So...when Landon gets here, we'll..."

 

/Stryke/ - "Can we just start without Godboy? The sooner I get my rematch with Coy the better."

 

No sooner has Stryke finished however, than the door swings open and into the office steps Landon Maddix with for some reason Megan Skye following in after him. Instantly the tension lifts from the room, as Landon stops...motioning for Megan to stay out of the office, which she does.

 

/Maddix/ - "Oh...crap. Sorry I'm late boss...traffic was murder."

 

Hardcastle ignores Landon's lame attempt at a joking comment, and nods...

 

 

...causing The Insane Luchador to react, charging across the office floor and diving into Austin Sly! The two fall to the floor, and begin to tussle, as meanwhile Helmsley begins to walk forwards towards Stryke, still clutching his lead pipe. Understandably Stryke keeps his distance from Helmsley, not wanting to taste the steel...allowing Landon to creep up behind Helmsley and forearm him in the back of the head. Stryke pounces moments later, and both he and Maddix begin to double team Helmsley until the pipe drops from his hands to the carpeted floor.

 

"Well, this match has begun..." points out Comet. "...and it looks like a bad day at the office for these five."

 

"How many more of those lines do you have?"

 

"Oh...about half a dozen."

 

".....Can I just go then?"

 

Stryke and Maddix continue to slam forearms and punches to the kneeling Helmsley, trying to drop him to the floor completely as they do so. Across the office, IL has Sly up and by the hair, but Sly elbows free from his grip before throwing Luchador head-first into the wall! IL's head bounces off the wall, straight into Sly's hands again for another trip to the wall...this time, causing Luchador to fall to the floor. Dropping down, Austin clasps his hands around IL's throat and starts to choke away...

 

...but suddenly, Stryke has broken away from Helmsley and walked over behind Sly, shoving him forward and head-first into a terracotta plant-pot. Sly now lays flat out, as Stryke continues an assault on Luchador.

 

Meanwhile, Maddix now has Helmsley up and pushes him up against the opposite wall, laying in a couple of knees to the gut before grabbing Jacob by the hair and hurling his head back into the wall. Jacob's skull rebounds, and he drops to his knees...but instantly he reaches forward, and punches Landon in the breadbasket, doubling him over. Quickly Jacob pulls himself up, taking Maddix's head before bending The Disciple back the wrong way and locking on a dragon sleeper!

 

"Well, Stryke got away from Helmsley just in time it seems...unfortunately for Landon, he didn't!" observes Comet.

 

Wrenching back immediately, Helmsley clamps up on the dragon sleeper, looking to cut the blood flow to The Disciple's brain. And the effects are instantaneous, as Landon starts to fade...but realizing where he is, decides to leap into the air, pushing his feet off the nearby wall and managing to flip up and over Jacob, into a reverse front facelock of his own. Jacob starts to squirm away quickly, but Maddix suddenly drops forward, driving Helmsley to the hard floor with a diving reverse DDT!

 

/Maddix/ - "How'dya like that, you creepy Canuck!"

 

Across the room, Sly and Stryke are now exchanging right hands while Luchador remains laid out underneath a desk. Seeing the brawl, Landon saunters over as nonchalantly as possible, picking up a small metal trashcan on his way and tipping the waste paper out. However, Sly sees Landon out of the corner of his eye, breaking from Stryke and stomping towards Maddix...

 

*CLANG!*

 

...who waffles him with the can!

 

"Oh my! That brought a whole new meaning to the phrase 'going to the can'!" cheesily booms Comet.

 

"And you bring a whole new meaning to 'bringing the suck.'" Riley responds.

 

Sly staggers and falls onto the nearest desk, as Landon carries on with the can...but receives a boot from Stryke, before being hurled into the wall. IL is just now rolling from under the table, and scurrying away from the action, as Jacob Helmsley is coming the other way, looking for a fight. Stryke meets him with a boot, but Helmsley shrugs it off and clotheslines Stryke down! Sly manages to pull himself up, but receives the same fate from Helmsley, before Maddix staggers over and gets a clothesline as well!

 

"Jacob Helmsley is taking over here!" Cyclone exclaims.

 

"Eh, it won't last. He's Canadian after all."

 

Standing tall, Helmsley is breathing deeply in his intense state. From behind however, Stryke smashes him with the bent trash can before shoving him towards the pot plant. Jacob stops himself though, charging back towards Stryke...who knees him in the gut, before DDTing Helmsley into the floor!

 

"Well, for once Bobby, you were right." Comet concedes. "That's twice Helmsley has been dropped to the floor."

 

The groggy Calgary native rolls away from Stryke, who grins smugly and holds his hands aloft as he's the only man standing...

 

...or so it seems...

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

...as The Insane Luchador nails him with...

 

 

...A LADDER!?!

 

 

"Oh god! The Insane Luchador has found himself a ladder...and that can only mean bad things!!!"

 

"Why the hell is there a ladder in an office!?!" exclaims Riley.

 

"Hey, it's the SWF. Of course there's a ladder in the office!"

 

Quickly Luchador takes the wooden ladder, setting it up in the middle of the office before grabbing Stryke. However, the Aussie manages to elbow Luchador in the ribs to escape, before quickly locking him in suplex position and hoisting him into the air. Luchador somehow slides out the back however, and waits for Stryke to turn around before smashing him with a right hook. Another follows, before Landon appears from nowhere and clotheslines Luchador from behind. As Luchador goes flying, Austin Sly wipes out Maddix with a double axehandle shot, and starts to scrap with Stryke. Both men exchange rights and lefts...

 

...as meanwhile, Luchador is climbing the ladder!

 

"The Insane One is going up! That crazy son of a -bleep- is going up!"

 

Stryke and Sly continue to brawl, unaware of IL's ascension. Meanwhile Maddix is pulling himself up, and begins to inject himself into the Sly/Stryke scrap with punches of his own...

 

/Luchador/ - "Hey...bitches!"

 

All three men ironically answer the call, as suddenly Luchador drops from the ladder, and wipes them all out with a suicidal dive!!!

 

 

"At the risk of sounding clichéd...OH MY GAWD!!!"

 

Now Stryke, Sly, Luchador and Maddix are all laid out on the office floor with only Jacob Helmsley up, but he is groggy from the earlier DDT. But regardless, Helmsley walks across the room...and finds his trusty leadpipe! Picking it up, Helmsley now walks over to the pile of people and encourages them to get up, not worried who he 'pipes'. First to stir is The Insane Luchador, dragging himself up as Jacob is waiting with a sick grin. Eventually Luchador is standing, and Jacob swings with the pipe...

 

...but misses! Luchador quickly fires a kick into the ribs of Helmsley, before grabbing him and irish whipping the Calgary native towards one of the piles of paper...but Jacob manages to put the brakes on. Seeing this, Luchador charges at Jacob, who ducks his head looking to backdrop IL. However Luchador sees it coming, hooking Helmsley's head and spinning around with a swinging DDT...

 

 

 

...THROUGH THE FIRST PAPER PILE!!!

 

/Hardcastle/ - "Jacob Helmsley is eliminated! Helmsley is gone..."

 

Both Luchador and Helmsley lay amongst the paper, as over comes Maddix to pummel IL. Helmsley is meanwhile pulled away by Hardcastle and a burly looking security guard, ready to be escorted from the building.

 

"The field has been cut to four." confirms Comet. "Jacob Helmsley gets to leave work early."

 

"I wish I could right now."

 

Sly and Stryke are both back up, and re-igniting their battle across a desk. Meanwhile, Maddix lays in the rights and lefts on Luchador, who is gradually being worn out by La Cucaracha. Five or six more clubbing blows connect, before Landon ceases the punches and takes a sheet of paper...turning Luchador onto his back, and grabbing him in a side headlock before smiling broadly into the camera.

 

/Maddix/ - "If you're squeamish...I'd look away now..."

 

*FFFSSSHHH!*

 

 

LANDON GIVES LUCHADOR A PAPERCUT ACROSS THE FOREHEAD!!!

 

Luchador squirms from the stinging pain, but a hint of a smile shines through his gritted teeth as meanwhile Landon stands back up, and cockily walks over to one of the desks. Stepping behind, Landon starts to fiddle with the computer wires before coming back around, and picking up the now unhooked keyboard. Luchador is getting up...

 

*CRACK!*

 

...but gets a keyboard over the head, sending plastic keys flying across the room!

 

"Now, that will cause work related stress..."

 

"You're not even trying now, are you?"

 

Again Luchador falls back, holding his head as Maddix hurls the keyboard at him and walks away towards Sly and Stryke...who are busy tussling over another keyboard, both with a grip and neither giving up possession. Landon makes his way over, and knees Stryke in the ribs, causing him to release the keyboard to Sly...

 

*CRACK!*

 

...WHO NAILS LANDON!!!

 

Again keys scatter the floor, as Sly tosses aside the keyboard, before grabbing Stryke and throwing him into the desk. Stryke bounces off, as Sly slams a stiff kick into the ribs which jolts the Aussie. Now Sly turns away, nailing the nearby Maddix with a stiff kick too before walking over to what seems to be the storage cupboard...and upon opening the door, it's clear to all and Sly that it is the storage cupboard. Reaching in, Sly emerges with a pack of pencils which he quickly opens up and scatters across the floor.

 

"What the heck?" questions Riley. "What damage can he do with a pencil?"

 

Picking up one of the writing implements, Sly walks over to Stryke and jabs him with the blunt pencil, causing no more than a little displeasure. Meanwhile The Insane Luchador has walked over, going straight for Landon with a couple of kicks. Sly ignores Luchador, and snaps the pencil in his hand...taking the now jagged edge, and stabbing Stryke in the head! The Aussie falls back onto the desk again, as Sly grabs him by the legs, lifting both up...BEFORE JABBING THE BROKEN PENCIL BETWEEN THE LEGS!!!

 

"Well...that proved me wrong." mumbles Riley.

 

"That's one place you don't want splinters..."

 

/Sly/ - "Come on 'skip'..."

 

Stryke writhes around in agony, as Luchador spins Sly around and nails him with a right hand. Sly crashes up and over the desk, taking Stryke with him as he goes. Quickly they both pull each other up, as Luchador takes a step back, before leaping onto the desk, and springing off with a double clothesline to Sly and Stryke!!!

 

"Insane Luchador...a name never described someone as well as that one." says Comet.

 

Not wasting any time, Luchador drags Sly up with him before picking Stryke up too...but as he does, Landon Maddix suddenly charges...leaping off and over the desk, and wiping out all three men with a somersault dive which causes the four to fall back and crash into another desk...beside which, lays another paper pile.

 

"There you go!" beams Riley. "That's insane...that's The Disciple. And this is just another day at the office for him."

 

"Did you just..."

 

"Hey, if you're going to prepare lines, you shouldn't leave them lying in front of me."

 

Noticing the paper, Landon drags up the first person he can grab...and it just so happens to be Austin Sly. Once Sly is up, Landon throws him forward to the desk, wiping out the computer monitor in the process. Now Sly staggers back, and Maddix is waiting, grabbing the rookie and lining him up by the paper...

 

...but Stryke grabs Landon by the leg, and stops him.

 

/Stryke/ - "Woah...woah...no, let me. I wanna get rid of this prick myself..."

 

With a shrug of the shoulders, Landon releases Sly and passes him to Stryke, who nails a right hand. Sly staggers, as Stryke hits another right...and another...and a third, before pushing Sly's head down, and setting him up for a powerbomb...

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

...SWEET DISCIPLE MUSIC!!!

 

Stunned from both the double-cross and the kick, Stryke wobbles and is just about to fall, when suddenly Sly stands up and backdrops Stryke...

 

 

...THROUGH THE PAPER PILE! G'NIGHT SKIP!

 

 

/Hardcastle/ - "Stryke is gone. Stryke is eliminated."

 

Again the burly security guard emerges, and starts to drag Stryke away immediately. Meanwhile, Sly and Landon have started to throw right hands at each other while Luchador pulls himself back up, and adds his own rights to the equation.

 

"The former USJL Champion is eliminated...that's somewhat of a surprise." comments Cyclone.

 

"Well, the rules are so madcap that anyone could win. But with The Disciple out there, Stryke was never going to win."

 

As Stryke is taken away, all three men continue to throw right hands until Landon tumbles into the desk. Sly and IL promptly take their brawl across the room, past Landon and towards a filing cabinet, which IL spots and irish whips Sly towards. The rookie manages to get a foot up before crashing into the cabinet though, turning back around but into a clothesline from Luchador! Quickly IL drags Sly up to his knees quickly, turning him towards the cabinet before grabbing the suitable drawer...

 

*fwoo - TSSSHHH!!!"

 

...AND THRUSTING IT OPEN, INTO SLY'S FACE!!!

 

Before Luchador gets chance to capitalize, Landon Maddix is back over, nailing Luchador from behind and sending him sprawling forwards. Luchador turns and kicks Landon in the ribs, before charging with a clothesline...but Maddix is able to duck. Luchador stops himself in front of a desk, and turns but gets a boot to the ribs and a European uppercut. Rocked, IL slumps to the floor as Maddix turns to the desk and sweeps all of it's remnants away to the floor.

 

/Maddix/ - "Come on Rickman...get up!"

 

Slowly IL does so, staggering into the desk where Landon grabs him and hits a boot to the gut before beginning to hook IL for a suplex...but suddenly, Landon stops, pulling away from Luchador and hitting another European uppercut which knocks him onto the table. Now smiling, Maddix walks away from IL...and towards...the ladder!

 

"Oh no...it looks as if Landon is going to take a high risk here!" exclaims Comet.

 

Indeed, Landon now has the ladder and is dragging it into a better position to dive off...but as he does so, Austin Sly emerges into shot and spears Landon down! He rolls away, as now Sly has the ladder, but IL is up...

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

...and connects with a superkick on Sly, who falls back into the ladder...

 

 

*CRRAAASSHH!*

 

...WHICH FALLS ONTO LANDON!!!

 

 

"OH!" wails Riley.

 

"A bad break for La Cucaracha..."

 

Quickly IL drags Sly up, taking him by the hair and dragging him over to the photocopier...

 

*SMAASH!!!*

 

...throwing him head-first into it. Staggering back, Sly swings and misses with a wild right hand, receiving a boot to the ribs from IL before getting thrown forwards into the desk again. Back up meanwhile is Landon, who grabs IL by the hair and throws him across the floor, almost to the other side of the relatively large room before grabbing Sly. Luchador meanwhile pulls himself up, and stumbles over towards the storage cupboard. Back on the empty desk, Sly is now setting Maddix up and climbing up with him. Now both Austin and Landon are on the table, with Landon being dragged to his feet by the standing Sly. With both men now up, Sly hooks both of Landon's arms up and looks to drop, but Maddix manages to spin out the back and push Austin off the desk to the floor. Sly lands and rolls through, getting to his feet as Maddix dives off the desk...

 

...but Sly catches him, and looks to slam Landon...but Landon floats over the back, and as Sly turns around he gets hooked under the arms and dropped in quick succession with the Skye High!!!

 

"Wow! Austin Sly's head just BOUNCED off that concrete floor!" Cyclone exclaims.

 

"And that was dedicated of course to Megan Skye. How sweet."

 

"Perhaps too sweet..."

 

Sly is out cold, and now Landon is looking for the nearest paper stack...but stops, as he sees The Insane Luchador re-emerging with a tray in his hands. Quickly IL places the tray down, as Maddix charges towards him...

 

*SMACK!*

 

...but EATS a superkick, knocking him down and out! But rather than continue the assault, IL picks up his tray and walks on towards the empty desk where he places it down. He then goes after Sly, as the camera catches a shot of what's in the tray...

 

 

...numerous small boxes of...

 

 

 

"THUMBTACKS!!!" erupts Cyclone.

 

 

Turning away from Austin, IL goes back to the tray and tips the boxes onto the wooden desk as Hardcastle watches on in helpless shock. Now the tack boxes litter the desk, Luchador turns and grabs Sly by the hair in an attempt to drag him to his feet...however, Maddix walks back over and smashes Luchador with a forearm. That is enough to turn his attention towards The Disciple, who immediately regrets his decision.

 

"Oh Todd...no, please...not Landon!" weeps Riley.

 

/Maddix/ - "No...get him! Look...please...I'll pay you if y..."

 

*SLAP!*

 

Luchador lights Maddix up with a stinging knifedge chop, rocking him back towards the desk. Landon swings back for a chop of his own, but Luchador avoids it as if in The Matrix, before chopping at Maddix...

 

*SLAP!*

 

...which connects. Now IL has Maddix just inches away from the desk, and reels back for a right hand...

 

 

...but gets caught by Sly, who hooks IL's arms behind his back. Luchador is now helpless, as Maddix shakes off the chops and nails IL with a right hand. Still grinning, Luchador mouths for Landon to 'bring it on', so he does with a second right hand. IL is still grinning though, so Maddix spins around and swings with a roaring elbow...

 

...which IL ducks, causing Sly to get nailed!

 

"Oh...run Landon!" Riley wails. "Run!"

 

Maddix doesn't get the chance though, as IL grabs him and hits a leg-shaking forearm. Quickly IL scuttles off to the side, grabbing another paper bin and swinging at Landon...who manages to get a boot up to block, as Sly lunges forward...

 

*CHING!*

 

...and lowblows IL! Quickly Maddix scurries away, as Sly continues the beating on Luchador.

 

"It seems Sly and Maddix are working together." Cyclone observes. "Not a bad strategy..."

 

Suddenly Maddix comes back into view, carrying a stack of papers with him and dumping them on the desk with the tacks, before turning to Sly and motioning for him to pick IL up. Sly does so, before placing IL in powerbomb position and hoisting him up...whilst Landon has pulled back up the ladder, and begins to climb it.

 

"Todd gave Landon wings...and he's about to use them!" beams Riley.

 

"If Maddix and Sly hit this, it's over for IL...for maybe more than this match!"

 

Getting halfway up, Landon turns towards Luchador...and decides to take another step. Suddenly Luchador starts to fight back though, rocking Sly with a series of punches until he's forced to release the powerbomb grip. Landing on his feet, IL punches Sly before scooting up the ladder for Maddix, who is caught!

 

/Maddix/ - "NO! NOOO!!!"

 

IL now has Landon, and slams a right hand into the gut. Another connects, as Landon looks in line for a sick landing...but receives a reprieve, as Sly reaches up and punches IL in the ribs. IL is now halted, as Landon looks around his precarious position, before shoving Luchador...who goes flying off the ladder...

 

 

 

*CRRRRAAACCCKKK!!!*

 

 

...THROUGH THE DESK...

 

 

 

 

...INTO THE THUMBTACKS...

 

...AND THROUGH THE MAKESHIFT PAPER STACK!!!

 

 

/Hardcastle/ - "The Insane Luchador is eliminated..."

 

As Hardcastle confirms the elimination in mumbling shock, IL starts to writhe around in the thumbtacks and splintered wood...with both Sly and Landon looking on in astonishment.

 

"Now THAT was an elimination!" exclaims Riley.

 

"Is that all you can say? The Insane Luchador is a human pincushion in those thumbtacks. He just got put through that heavy oak desk...from off a ladder no less, and that's all you can say?"

 

"I'm not one for unnecessary hyperbole..."

 

“Phff…the hell you’re not!”

 

"Either way...it's down to just Austin Sly and Landon Maddix. And Comet, I must say, that pleases me. At least someone talented is going to get a shot at the USJL Title and that redneck Coy West."

 

As is customary, the burly security guard returns and starts to help The Insane Luchador out of the battleground, trying not to aggravate any injuries he has and at the same time trying not to stab himself with any tacks himself.

 

That slow process continues, as now focus switches to Sly and Landon who have both stopped in their tracks and currently stand staring each other down. Neither one of the two cocky upstarts seem to have a desire to fight the other, but both know the prize awaiting the winner and lunge forward with simultaneous clotheslines. Both connect, causing both men to crash to the floor where they are met with more pain, from the hard concrete. Maddix is the first to move, rolling away across the floor, whilst Sly uses the ladder to help himself back up. As soon as Austin is up, he scurries over towards the pile of items dumped from the now broken desk earlier, routing through them and finding a lamp which is somehow not broken. Landon meanwhile stumbles back over, raising him arms together in preparation for a double axehandle...

 

 

*SMMMMAAAASSSHHH!!!*

 

 

...BUT GETS THE LAMP BROKEN OVER HIS HEAD!!!

 

 

"Oh my GOD!" yelps Comet. "That didn't just happen...did it!?!"

 

"I wish you were right for once! Poor Landon's face may be as shattered as that lamp now is. And for someone as handsome as Maddix, that's a career threatening injury!"

 

"As my twelve year-old cousin would say...PUH-LEASE!"

 

"Sure...'cousin'..."

 

Landon lays on the floor holding his face, with a high-pitched whining sound coming from behind his hands as he begins to writhe in pain. Sly meanwhile checks on his hand, which seems to have been damaged from the lamp smashing and is now beginning to ooze blood from the palm. Shrugging it off, Austin goes back over to Landon and starts to drag him up by the hair with his good hand, giving him a swift, sharp kick in the ribs on the way just for a laugh. Now Landon too is busted open, his forehead slowly beginning to become covered in his own crimson juices. The rare blood flow seems to be too much for Maddix, wobbling and stumbling as he reaches his feet, his whole stance screaming the word 'woozy'. Sly takes advantage, with a roundhouse kick across the sternum area which staggers Landon backwards towards the wall of the office, which he slumps up against in exhaustion. Quickly Sly sweeps away wood and tacks to clear himself a path, before charging at Maddix...

 

 

...who steps forward at seemingly the last second, and hot-shots Sly into the wall!!!

 

"A desperate counter from The Disciple...but anything will do for him now." Comet says, with a sense of unease in his voice at both men's conditions.

 

Now it's Sly who lays slumped against the wall, his face pressed against the makeshift kickstand, his right hand smearing a sickening, bloody handprint on the cream painted wall. Wearily Landon takes Sly by the hair, and throws him forward...

 

*THUD!*

 

...face first into the wall. Sly recoils, and drops to one knee from the pain he's suffering. Meanwhile Landon stumbles away, grabbing a small framed picture off the wall, and passing it to Sly who instinctively takes it. Checking it's in place, Landon then steps back, before charging forwards as best he can, and swinging his leg around Sly's back...

 

 

...but missing with the Seering Wizard...

 

 

*SMAAASSSHHH!!!*

 

 

...AND GETTING THE PICTURE SMASHED OVER HIS HEAD!!!

 

 

"Aw...crap!" sighs Riley.

 

"Landon Maddix now tastes some more glass, and that won't help his wounds a damn bit."

 

"Why don't you just state the friggin' obvious!"

 

With his head sticking through the destroyed picture, Landon slumps to the floor as Sly is already looking around for a paper stack, so he can get this match done with. And with presumably only one left, it could be anywhere. Realizing this, Sly walks away and starts his search, as all the while, Landon is trying to drag himself to his feet...pulling the picture off his head as he gets to his knees. Blood is now pouring from Maddix's forehead, his face resembling the proverbial crimson mask...and that is clearly dis-orientating him, as it's not something Maddix is used to. As best he can, La Cucaracha stumbles over to where Sly has now stopped, turning around to see Maddix and quickly swinging at him with a right hand. Landon ducks out of instinct, but stops there and gets clotheslined in the back of the head.

 

"It may just be a matter of time..."

 

"Don't count Landon Maddix out Cyclone. He may be losing a lot of blood...and is coming off a match with Edward James...after Alan Clark nearly crippled him...and...just don't count him out!"

 

Landon slumps forward into the nearest desk, but is grabbed by the tights and pulled onto the nearby swivel chair before receiving a right hand. That stops any fightback, long enough for Sly to reach down and grab a computer cable, tearing it upwards high enough for him to quickly wrap it round Landon's throat. Instantly The Disciple starts to cough and sputter, flailing around wildly while Sly places his foot on the back of the chair, just to add more leverage.

 

/Sly/ - "Choke! Choke bitch! Choke!"

 

Sly yells out the kind of language usually only heard in these quarters during the SWF Office Christmas parties, until Landon starts to fire desperate elbows into Austin's ribs until he releases the choke. Quickly Maddix throws the wire away from him, but suddenly has his chair grabbed by Austin...

 

 

...and finds himself spinning around...

 

 

...and around...

 

 

 

...and around...

 

"Usually I'd make some sort of Kylie-orientated joke..." mumbles Riley. "But I'm too worried..."

 

 

...and around, before Sly finally puts the brakes on and pulls Maddix up. Now dizzy to go with his visually impairing blood-loss, Landon stumbles around with no clue as to where he is, as meanwhile Sly has grabbed a fan from off the office desk. Slowly Maddix wobbles over towards Austin, who aims for a fan shot...

 

 

 

...but gets nothing, as the wire won't stretch far enough!

 

/Sly/ - "What the..."

 

Landon sees his chance, and despite his condition lunges forward, spearing Sly across the desk more out of desperation than anything. Both men roll off the desk and to the floor, where the last stack of paper just happens to be standing underneath the window sill.

 

 

It's Sly who reaches his feet first, but Landon is not far behind and he has his wits about him...quickly grabbing Sly by the right arm, and SLAMMING his hand off the desk! Austin wails out in pain, clutching his hand as Landon takes the hand again and pulls Sly over to the wall. The rookie claws at Landon's face in an attempt to get him to release the hand, but Maddix bends one of the blood soaked fingers back which stops Sly in his tracks. Before the finger snaps though, Landon stops and presses the hand up against the wall before reaching to his side and grabbing the first thing that comes to hand...which happens to be a heavy paperweight...swinging with it, and crunching Sly's hand between it and the wall.

 

/Sly/ - "AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!"

 

/Maddix/ - "Come on buddy...that didn't hurt...now, THIS on the other hand..."

 

 

*DOOOFFF!*

 

Landon slams the paperweight into Sly's hands again, bringing him nearly to tears from the excruciating pain. But still, Sly swings out with his good arm, and catches Maddix with a good enough shot to make him drop the paperweight and stagger back. Still using his good arm, Sly nails another shot, but still Landon clutches Sly’s right wrist, so the rookie reaches out and grabs a stapler…

 

…and in fear, Maddix releases Sly. Quickly Austin changes his grip on the stapler, as Landon throws his arms up…

 

 

*DU-THF*

 

*DU-THF*

 

*DU-THF*

 

…as Sly starts shooting staples at Landon, all of which simply bouncing off The Disciple’s body harmlessly.

 

/Maddix/ - “Dude…what the fuck!?!”

 

Angered, Sly throws the stapler forward…

 

 

*THUD!*

 

…and catches Maddix in the head!!! Landon staggers back a step, as Sly shakes off the pain in his hand and charges…

 

 

…into a drop-toe-hold…

 

 

 

 

 

…THROUGH THE LAST PAPERSTACK!!!

 

 

/Hardcastle/ - “Austin Sly’s eliminated! Your winner…LANDON MADDIX!!!”

 

Hardcastle fleeting attempts at drama are broken, as Maddix crawls past him…pulling himself up on a desk, and raising a weary arm in triumph.

 

 

“YES! THANK TODD!!!” beams Riley. “Landon Maddix wins…and now, Coy West can expect retribution from The Disciple!”

 

“Well, the win came from nowhere…but the bloody, beaten Citizen Maddix deserves credit for pulling the win out in this…odd circumstances.”

 

“Oh, Landon wins…and NOW they are odd ‘circumstances’.”

 

The office door swings open again, and the burly security guard bursts through over-dramatically to escort Sly from he premises, and presumably to the nearest hospital…as meanwhile, Megan Skye follows through the door after him, running over to Landon, but stopping short of leaping into his arms upon seeing his blood stained forehead. Instead she greets him with a firm handshake, before raising his arm in the air and helping him out of the office to medical help…

 

 

“That was the first ever Office Brawl.” mumbles Comet. “It may very well be the last. I’m sure certain participants are hoping it is, after the brutality they went through…but the bigger story is, Maddix gets the shot at Coy West and the USJL Championship…”

 

“And after what Coy callously did to Todd Royal, I can’t wait to see the payback redneck West gets from the triumphant Disciple.”

 

“Whatever. Let’s just go to a break…”

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

We return to the roar and the screams of the Richmond Coliseum as the driving guitar of Delinquent Habits’ “Tres Delinquentes (Rock Remix) begins to pour from the speakers. From behind the curtains, Todd Cortez emerges, arms crossed over his chest in the traditional straightedge fashion. He raises one arm to the sky, his other hand holding the gold cross around his neck, and makes his way down to ringside.

 

Welcome back to SWF Lockdown, ladies and gentlemen! I’m Bobby Riley, and to my left is –“

 

”CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET!”

 

”Indeed it shall, Bobby. Citizen Nathaniel has been on a crusade of sorts since Battleground – I would dare call it a crusade…of JUSTICE!” Comet puffs his chest out slightly for effect, oblivious to his fellow announcer, who simply rolls his eyes at the camera. “He seeks recognition for his long years in this industry, and what better way to attain it than by wresting the World title away from John Duran? Without taking anything away from young citizen Cortez – he’s certainly shown potential as part of the In Crowd, but this is his very first singles match - I think Kibagami is easily the favorite.”

 

“I’d have to disagree with you there, Comet. Kibagami’s neck is a point I bring up time and time again – it took a lot of abuse ten days ago, and I doubt he’s fully recovered. He’s getting old, he’s getting slower, and he’s just one more injury away from retirement. Besides, how many matches has he won since his return? One? He doesn’t have it in him to beat a hungry rookie, much less take the title from John Duran. Cortez’s physical advantages may be enough to bridge the experience gap and bag him his first singles win.”

 

”Time will tell, Bobby - we have nothing to go on right now but our opinions. And, of course, the fact that citizen Nathaniel has purchased one of my t-shirts. Let us go to Funyon!”

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following matchup is scheduled for one fall...introducing first, making his way to the ring...weighing in at two hundred and twenty-six pounds and hailing from The Streets...”URBAN LEGEND” TODD CORTEZ!”

 

Cortez kisses the cross and hands it over to one of the ringside attendants before climbing into the ring – and no sooner does he hop through the ropes than the lights in the Coliseum go out. The haunting opening melody of “The River Dragon Has Come” lilt out of the speakers, lulling the audience ever so slightly...

 

The distortion hits, and the arena lights up – every available spotlight is trained on the entrance ramp. White blasts of pyrotechnics streak up, down, across the arena, back and forth along the ramp, sending sparks spiraling everywhere. The Smarkstron flickers one final time, and the image changes – the burning ankh, gigantic, red, consumed by flames, towers over the audience, three stories tall...and the first line of the song echoes out over the crowd.

 

Today, the warning came in the floooooooood...

 

A final burst of white pyro shoots up from the center of the entrance ramp, temporarily blinding the audience to the curtains behind...and through the sparks that trail behind...

 

...comes Nathaniel Kibagami.

 

“And his opponent...”

 

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

 

“...weighing in at two hundred and sixty-one pounds...”

 

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

 

“...hailing from Phoenix, Arizona...”

 

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

 

 

“...NATHANIEL KIBAGAMI!”

 

 

The river dragon has come – souls wash away...

The earth has spoken, and taken them to their graaaaaaves...

 

 

Kibagami’s wounds have just barely healed – the odd mark here or there the last remaining trance of the hellish Last Man Standing match he took part in at Battleground. As the Slaughterer reaches the ring and climbs onto the apron, the Urban Legend does his best to look defiant...but, like everyone else in the federation, he saw Nathaniel get up from moves that should have kept him down. Kibagami climbs onto the turnbuckles and assumes the crucifix pose to a tremendous reaction, and the camera switches back to Cortez, who looks just the slightest bit unsure of himself.

 

“Citizen Nathaniel certainly knows how to make an entrance, and with Battleground still fresh in the minds of the fans, the Virginia crowd is glad to have him here!” hollers Comet over the roar of the crowd. “This, Bobby...this is Justice in Action!”

 

Riley scoffs derisively (is there any other way to scoff?) “So the fans like him. Big deal. He’s won one match since his return, Comet. Count them: one! He beat the commissioner of the federation, who hasn’t been in active competition for almost two years! So he can still take a lot of punishment – John Duran can give out a lot of punishment, and he[i/] won’t just stop in the middle of the match. Kibagami’s got a LOT to prove if he wants to make a serious run at the title, and I for one don’t think he can hack it anymore.”

 

Referee Ced Ordonez briefly explains the rules to both men – neither wrestler takes his eyes off the other. Both are totally focused on the match at hand. Seeing that he’ll get no real acknowledgement, Ordonez shrugs and signals for the bell.

 

Comet sighs and shakes his head. ”Such venom, Bobby. Still upset over the Rainbow getting shut down?”

 

DING DING DING!

 

”Look, I’ve been over this with you once already. It’s a gentlemen’s club. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

 

The two men circle each other cautiously – each is aware of the other’s abilities, and both understand the importance of this match. Both of them have something to prove.

 

Each man considers the other for a long moment…Kibagami lurches towards Cortez, looking for a collar-and-elbow tieup, but the Urban Legend ducks under his opponent’s outstretched arms. Nathaniel turns to meet him, but Cortez is a step ahead, driving Kibagami towards the ropes with a hard forearm shot – and another – and another! The former Clansmen stumbles into the ropes, and Cortez whips him across the ring, catching Kibagami with a leg lariat as he comes barreling back! He drops down and hooks the leg, looking for a quick cover –

 

ONE!

 

T – but Nathaniel easily kicks out! Not wanting to waste the advantage his speed gives him, Todd pulls Kibagami to his feet and whips him towards the ropes again. The feisty cruiserweight looks for a shotei, but the Silent One rolls underneath his outstretched arm and gracefully moves to his feet –

 

CRACK!

 

“Zounds! What a blow to the ribs of the Urban Legend!”

 

The crowd roars its approval as Cortez backs away, one hand on his ribs. Kibagami stands tall in the center of the ring, flexing his leg slightly – the smirk on his face betrays his confidence.

 

“Look at that cocky bastard,” mutters Riley. “He wins one little match and suddenly thinks he’s God’s gift to wrestling.”

 

”Perhaps, Bobby, but look below the surface! Cortez takes the fight to Kibagami instead of approaching cautiously, and the wily River Dragon repays him with a single kick – a response appropriate to the affront. It’s justice in action, my friend.”

 

Bobby rolls his eyes as the two men begin to circle each other once more. “I do think you’re reading too much into the early going.”

 

”And I think you’re just upset that Justice in Action makes more sense than Flesher per Minute. Now hush!”

 

The two wrestlers approach each other in the center of the ring once again – Cortez slightly more cautious, and Kibagami slightly more confident. This time, Todd lunges forward for a lockup, but Nathaniel deftly steps behind his opponent and hooks a waistlock before taking him unceremoniously to the mat! The former Clansman transitions smoothly into a front facelock, but Cortez easily spins out and into a hammerlock to counter. Kibagami powers to his feet using his massive legs and manages to hook Cortez’s left leg out from under him, dropping him to the mat and putting Nathaniel in the mount position. The Urban Legend being familiar with mixed martial arts, opts not to roll onto his stomach and covers his face with his arms instead to avoid any punches – and suddenly finds himself caught in a shoulderlock instead as Kibagami slides his arm underneath Todd’s shoulder and begins pressing it into the smaller man’s jugular! Thinking quickly, Cortez instinctively hooks the ropes with his feet, and Ordonez forces Kibagami to break the hold.

 

“Cortez almost put himself in a poor predicament, Bobby! That move has put many a fine man down for the count – he’s lucky he was so close to the ropes.”

 

Nathaniel pulls Cortez to his feet...

 

CRACK!

 

…and doubles him over with a sharp kick to the gut! The River Dragon slaps on a side headlock and quickly pulls the cruiserweight to the mat, making sure to position himself near the ropes to prevent Cortez from using them to score a break.

 

“What the hell is this? Nobody wants to see these sorts of stalling tactics!”

 

”You know, I never hear you complain when Flesher works a headlock for two or three minutes.”

 

“That’s because he does it with purpose and finesse.”

 

”And a singlet.”

 

”Shut up.”

 

The Silent One cranks back on the headlock, showing a great deal of care not to slide his hands down too far and hook a choke that Ordonez could break. His opponent tries to kick his way free of the hold, but Kibagami’s positioning is excellent – his back is too far away from Todd’s legs for Todd to do any damage with his feet…so instead, the Urban Legend hooks Nathaniel’s leg and rolls sharply to the left, pinning Kibagami’s shoulders to the mat!

 

ONE!

 

TW –

 

Nathaniel kicks his legs and returns to his previous position on the mat, squeezing a little tighter on the headlock to ensure that such a momentary lapse doesn’t happen again. Cortez tries to hook his legs around Kibagami’s neck to counter, but again the former Clansmen manages to position himself far enough from Cortez’s body that the gesture is futile. Seeing that he has no other option, Todd has to resort to brute force and slowly powers to his feet – Kibagami cranks down on the headlock, making the Urban Legend expend as much energy as possible to make it to his feet. Cortez backs his opponent into the ropes, then uses them to propel Kibagami across the ring! Free of the constraining headlock, the feisty cruiserweight drops to his stomach as Nathaniel comes hurtling back towards him. He climbs to his feet, ready to meet Kibagami’s next charge – but he’s just the slightest bit too slow, and the River Dragon catches him with a hard knee to the gut! The Silent One quickly pulls a stunned Cortez to his feet, slaps on another side headlock, and pulls the smaller man back down to the mat! Todd’s shoulders are pinned flat against the canvas this time, and Ced Ordonez drops to make the count!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

Cortez’s arm shoots up from the canvas as he hears the referee’s hand strike the mat. Kibagami calmly centers his weight on the headlock, trying to force his opponent’s arm back down, but Todd counters by wrapping his arms around the Silent One’s head and applying a modified crossface to counter! Kibagami tightens up on the headlock momentarily, however, and the added pressure forces Cortez to release his hold.

 

“Citizen Nathaniel smartly staying with the headlock – if Cortez can’t overcome this elementary obstacle, why should Kibagami move on to more dangerous offense?”

 

“You know, people didn’t pay to see headlocks. That move went out with the eighties.”

 

“You’re right, Bobby. The people did not pay to see headlocks. They paid to see JUSTICE dispensed in the most fantastic fashion possible!”

 

”Please. Boring matwork doesn’t improve buyrates, nor does it sell movies in East Asia –“ Riley stops and sputters as Comet douses him with what remains of the masked man’s Pepsi Max©. Despite it, Riley grins impishly. “Oh, touched a nerve there, did I?”

 

“Concentrate on the match at hand, villain, and keep your personal attacks to yourself.”

 

Back in the ring, the Urban Legend is growing just as frustrated with his inability to break the headlock as he is with Kibagami’s refusal to release the headlock. Without any other recourse, Cortez powers to his feet again – noticeably slower than last time. Nathaniel cranks harder on the headlock, trying to maintain his positional advantage, but a hard elbow to the gut loosens his grip just enough for Todd to push him into the far right turnbuckle! The Urban Legend charges after his opponent…but Nathaniel grabs hold of the top rope, leaps into the air, and pushes himself backwards, vaulting cleanly over his onrushing opponent, much to the delight of the crowd. The River Dragon lands on his feet, and as Cortez turns around, he clamps the headlock on again and pulls the cruiserweight back to the mat!

 

“Now he’s just showing off.”

 

”And he can get away with it, Bobby – Kibagami is a fourteen-year veteran, while this is citizen Todd’s first singles match in the SWF. He’s going to be outwitted here more often than not.”

 

Todd lies motionless on the mat for a moment, unsure how best to proceed. Kibagami pulls back a little on the headlock, trying to add a little extra torque to his opponent’s neck…but he pulls his own head back a little too far as he does so, and Cortez is quick to wrap his legs around the River Dragon’s neck and apply a headscissors! Nathaniel scrambles to a vertical base as best he can, putting Cortez in a sitting position.

 

“Good counter by Cortez, doing his best to relieve the pressure on his neck.”

 

”And providing you with quite the visual, eh, chum?”

 

Bobby’s cheeks redden. “What happened to refraining from personal attacks? Still a little touchy over the failure of Comet Strikes IV, are we?”

 

”That was the highest-grossing martial arts picture Canada’s seen in five years, I’ll have you know.”

 

”Right. How much is their money worth, again?”

 

Kibagami rolls sharply to the right, extracting his head from between Cortez’s legs (and drawing a wistful sigh from Bobby Riley) before scrambling back to the side headlock. Frustrated, Todd powers to his feet for a third time, using his legs to stabilize himself and doing his best not to pit his neck against his opponent’s body weight. A trio of elbows to Kibagami’s ribs forces the former Clansmen to loosen his grip, and Cortez shoves him towards the ropes…but Nathaniel baseball slides into the center of the ring to stop his own momentum and holds on, drawing a round of applause from the Coliseum crowd!

 

Switching his tactics slightly, Cortez wraps his arms around Nathaniel’s waist and lifts, looking to catch his opponent off guard with a backdrop, but Kibagami sees it coming and fights it, clamping down even tighter on the headlock and disorienting the Urban Legend enough to make him release the waistlock. Cortez pauses for a moment, trying to catch his breath and regain his bearings before, running towards the ropes and grabbing hold of them, forcing the River Dragon to release the hold. Nathaniel rolls backwards and comes to his feet in the center of the ring…

 

CRACK!

 

…only to be met by a hard gamengiri from Todd Cortez! The crowd pops like a cherry on prom night in spite of themselves, clearly impressed with the Urban Legend’s tenacity, and the Silent One drops to the mat like a stone!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

”Zounds! The River Dragon kicks out, but what a shot to the head! That mixed martial arts background that citizen Todd has touted so proudly certainly seems to be serving him well!”

 

“Indeed they are, Comet. He hits like the proverbial butterfly, and stings like a bee. If you give him an inch, he’ll take the proverbial mile!”

 

“Bobby, those are clichés, not proverbs.”

 

”…don’t mince words with me, Spandex Boy.”

 

Cortez angrily stomps away at Kibagami, ignoring Ordonez’s admonishments entirely. His ears are still ringing and his head is still pounding – he was in that side headlock much longer than he would’ve liked. He rains boots down on Kibagami’s back and shoulders, buying himself some much-needed time to clear his head.

 

“That gamengiri was quite the stroke of luck for young Cortez – now he needs to figure out how to capitalize on it!”

 

”Luck? Try skill, Comet. He tried everything he could think of to break that headlock until he came up with something that worth. Cortez is nothing if not resourceful, and that’s going to be what wins him this match.”

 

The smaller man steps back and measures Kibagami before leaping into the air and coming crashing down onto the River Dragon’s back with a hard senton splash. He rises to his feet and pulls Nathaniel up by his hair – Cortez braces his head underneath Kibagami’s jaw, locks his hands behind the larger man’s neck, and sits out, rocking the Silent One with a sharp sit-out jawbreaker! Kibagami staggers back into the turnbuckle, his jaw smarting from the maneuver. The Urban Legend rolls back to his feet, measures his opponent – he cartwheels forward, turns in midair, and slams a flying back elbow into the River Dragon’s jaw! The crowd pops again for Cortez’s display of agility as Kibagami staggers out of the corner and into the arms of a waiting Todd Cortez...who grabs a facelock on Nathaniel from behind and drives the Silent One to the ground with the Cereal Killer! Cortez scrambles to roll Kibagami onto his stomach, then goes for the cover –

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

”The Silent One kicks out, but one has to wonder what kind of impact that maneuver had on his neck! As much as I hate to concede it, my esteemed colleague has a point – citizen Nathaniel is only ten days removed from Battleground, and he may not be fully rested as of yet!”

 

Another senton splash planted between Kibagami’s shoulder blades only serves to aggravate the River Dragon’s inflamed neck and back. Sensing weakness, Cortez hastily drags Nathaniel into the center of the ring and slaps on a camel clutch, trying to capitalize on Kibagami’s oft-injured neck.

 

“Cortez is smartly relying on basic maneuvers, going with what he knows will work rather than what he’d like to see work...”

 

”...and putting the entire Coliseum to sleep in the process, I might add.”

 

”What do you know about wrestling? You used a shooting star senton as a finisher, for Christ’s sake.”

 

”Yes, and I was loved by millions, while you remain the BUTT of every gay joke ever made.”

 

”I’M NOT GAY.”

 

”I never said you were...Bobbi.”

 

The Urban Legend slides his hands from Kibagami’s chin down to his throat, trying to gain a quick advantage, but the ever-alert Ced Ordonez sees through Cortez’s subterfuge and quickly forces him to break the hold.

 

Cortez grabs a handful of Kibagami’s hair and pulls the larger man to his feet. Todd attempts to whip the River Dragon into the ropes, but Nathaniel easily reverses the Irish whip and sends Cortez careening across the ring instead. The Slaughterer’s reaction time is still slowed somewhat from Cortez’s over-the-back neckbreaker, however, and he can’t quite dodge the spinning wheel kick that sends him crashing back to the mat!

 

“Citizen Nathaniel’s neck does seem to be slowing him down somewhat – if Cortez can keep the advantage he seems to have gained and perhaps assault the neck a time or two, he may have the opportunity to pull off a tremendous upset!”

 

The Urban Legend pops back up to his feet and wastes no time in pressing Kibagami – he sprints to the other side of the ring, leaps onto the second rope, and springs backwards with a picture-perfect quebrada, landing dead center on the River Dragon’s chest! Cortez quickly hooks the leg –

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THR – NO!

 

Nathaniel rolls his shoulder up half a second before Ordonez can bring his hand down. The Urban Legend jaws with Ordonez over the speed of the count for a moment before rising to his feet and making his way over to the apron. Cortez climbs outside onto the apron and waits patiently for Kibagami to stagger to his feet.

 

“Cortez setting up for something big here...”

 

The Silent One regains his bearings and turns to face his opponent – only to be met with a stiff springboard clothesline that sends him right back to the canvas! The crowd pops big for Cortez’s aerial athletics as he drops to the mat to make the cover!

 

“Citizen Todd connects with another big bomb to Kibagami’s neck! This could very well be all!”

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

NO!

 

Nathaniel gets his shoulders up at the last possible moment, to the crowd’s delight and the Urban Legend’s chagrin. Clearly frustrated now with his inability to put Kibagami down, Todd backs away from the struggling River Dragon and motions currently for him to get up.

 

“Cortez appears to have the match well in hand, Comet – I think he’s setting Kibagami for another hard shot to that injured neck!”

 

”I’m not so sure, Bobby. It would be more prudent of citizen Todd to stay on top of Nathaniel. Giving him room to breathe all but guarantees he’ll have time to regain his senses...”

 

Cortez gauges the distance between himself carefully, tapping his foot slightly in anticipation. As the Slaughterer stands and turns around, the smaller man launches himself at the Silent One with deadly accuracy, looking to connect with a superkick –

 

- but Kibagami catches the Urban Legend’s outstretched leg!

 

Before Todd has time to think, Nathaniel spins him around and grabs hold of his left leg, pulling it up to chest height before heaving back...

 

BAM!

 

...and SPIKING the cruiserweight with an ugly-looking cradle suplex! The crowd explodes at the sight of the difficult maneuver while Cortez lies motionless on the mat.

 

“TREMENDOUS counter from Kibagami!” shouts Comet. “Cortez backed off for the briefest of moments, but that seems to be all citizen Nathaniel needed to turn the tide!”

 

”It was a lucky counter!” protests Riley. “Cortez will pop right back up from that weak-looking suplex!”

 

”Weak-looking suplex? Bobbi, he got dropped on his skull!”

 

”No he didn’t! He took it on the shoulders! He’s fine!”

 

The camera switches back to the ring and Cortez, whose eyes flutter briefly as he lies motionless on the mat.

 

“...on the shoulders...”

 

Kibagami lies on the mat, shaking his head slightly as if to clear the cobwebs from Cortez’s multidirectional assault. Ordonez comes over to check on the Slaughterer, but Kibagami dismissively waves him off and pushes himself to his feet. He moves towards his opponent, but the referee stops him on the grounds that Cortez has yet to show signs of life. Nathaniel blinks curiously.

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

Two sharp kicks to the ribs send the Urban Legend scrambling into the corner to protect himself – Ordonez has his signs of life, and he allows the River Dragon to proceed.

 

Kibagami pulls Cortez to his feet in the corner and measures him briefly...

 

SLAP! (WHOOOO!)

 

CRACK!

 

SLAP! (WHOOOO!)

 

CRACK!

 

SLAP! (WHOOOO!)

 

CRACK!

 

“A vicious series of strikes from citizen Nathaniel, and he’s got the rookie on the ropes!”

 

The Silent One grabs hold of the top rope, plants one foot on the second, and propels himself into the air –

 

CRACK!

 

- and drives his foot into the side of Cortez’s head! The rookie falls out of the corner and into a front facelock; Kibagami takes a moment to steady himself before lifting Cortez up and over by the neck with a bone-jarring Downshifter suplex! The Urban Legend crashes to the mat...but Kibagami does not immediately go for the cover.

 

Instead, he produces a small black marker from inside his boot.

 

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

 

“Kibagami is signaling for the Demonstar Driver! I suppose he doesn’t like being knocked about by a relative rookie, Riley –

 

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

 

“- it looks like he’s going to take his frustrations out on Todd Cortez’s spinal column!”

 

The Silent one casually kneels in the center of the ring and draws a very visible ‘X’. He tucks the marker back into his boot and turns back to his opponent.

 

“Now who’s giving too much time to their opponent?” queries Riley as Nathaniel pulls Todd to his feet. “Cortez isn’t going to be put down by three sharp blows to the head, oh no! He’s young! He’s resilient! He’s...”

 

”...not wearing a singlet. Why are you so concerned?”

 

Kibagami pulls the dazed Cortez to his feet, intent on the black X in the center of the ring...but Cortez shoves his hands away and sends the River Dragon stumbling backwards with a high dropkick! The Urban Legend scrambles to his feet and rushes the Silent One, throwing forearms and palm strikes and no small number of closed fists in a desperate attempt to drive the Slaughterer back and stave off defeat!

 

“I told you, Comet! Cortez has gotten his second wind, and he’s taking back the offensive –“

 

Riley lights up at the announcer’s table as the feisty cruiserweight vaults onto Kibagami’s shoulders, looking to snap the River Dragon back onto his neck with a hurricanrana...

 

...but Kibagami catches him.

 

“....and he’s going to show Kibagami what – wait, what?”

 

Cortez punches furiously away at the top of Nathaniel’s head, but to no avail – the Slaughterer simply shrugs it off and pulls the Urban Legend down, hooking his arms at the elbows and prepping him for quite possibly the most dangerous move in the SWF.

 

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...

 

Kibagami checks to make sure that he’s centered above the ‘X’.

 

And he smiles.

 

 

 

BAM.

 

 

 

“Demonstar Driver!” Comet yells over the hysteria of the fans, and the pin itself is merely a formality.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

DING DING DING!

 

”Your winner by pinfall...NATHANIEL KIBAGAMI!”

 

Kibagami rolls to his feet, one hand absently rubbing his neck while Ced Ordonez raises the other in victory. He calmly exits up the ramp as “The River Dragon Has Come” plays on, unheeding of the fans chanting his name. The Silent One is back in form, and he knows it – that is enough for him tonight.

 

In the ring, the Urban Legend stands to a round of applause – albeit with the assistance of the referee. The fans are always as happy to see somebody survive the Demonstar as they are to see the move performed. Cortez staggers through the ropes and out of the ring, still looking a little unsure exactly what it was that put him down for the three-count.

 

“Nathaniel Kibagami emerges with a convincing victory over the rookie Todd Cortez – but not without a fight from the Urban Legend!”

 

”Was the Demonstar really necessary here? I don’t understand why he’s allowed to use that damned move – it’s designed to break necks, you know.”

 

”Perhaps he used it because it was there, perhaps he used it because he could...and perhaps he was sending a message to the champion. Only Kibagami knows for sure, Riley. Speaking of the champion, stay tuned – Danny Williams challenges John Duran for his hard-won title in the main event, NEXT!”

 

A final shot of Kibagami standing at the top of the entrance ramp is shown before we starwipe to commercial...

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

The Virginians that populate the vast Collieusm are pumped up and ready for the Main Event! It’s been a long night, but the fans have pace themselves extremely well, saving their voices for the big Title match. At the risk of sounding cliche, there’s some strong electricity in the air, the type of energy that you will only find when there’s a strong possibility of a new World Champion being crowned. This type of atmosphere is usually reserved for PPVs, but it’s pretty obvious that this won’t be an ordinary t.v. match.

 

Comet: Fans we have taking the last of our commercial breaks so that we may bring you tonight’s Main Event complete and interrupted.

 

Riley: I should hope so. This is John Duran’s first World Title defense, and those punks behind the cameras better show him some respect.

 

Making it’s way out of the loud speakers, “The Jester’s Dance” quietly bounces it’s way around the arena. Jumping out of their chairs, the thousands in attendance go bananas at the mere sound of the familiar theme song. Things only get worse when Danny Williams storms out of the locker room, making his way out on to the platform for all to see.

 

Funyon: The following contest is for the SWF World Heavyweight Title! Introducing first, the challenger, weighing in at 245 pounds, hailing from Louisville, Kentucky..........DANNY WILLIAMSsssssssssssss!!!

 

Marching down the aisle, Danny Williams slides into the ring. Jumping to his feet, Danny is greeted by an impressive ovation that only an elite few receive in all of sports. Appreciative of the fans, Williams jumps on to the second turnbuckle, soaking in the cheers. Signaling the end of Williams’ pre match festivities, the melodic guitar work of In Flames fades into nothingness. Killing the mood, Duran Duran come blasting out of the speakers!

 

“NO! NO! NOTORIOUS!”

 

Some generic metal replaces the new wave classic, causing the once cheering fans to turn violent and restless. Making his grand appearance, the newly crowned World Champion comes strutting from the back like a conquering hero.

 

Funyon: And his opponent, hailing from Champaign, Illinois....HE IS THE SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION......”THE NOTORIOUS” JOHN DURAaaaaaaaan!!!!!!!!!!!

 

As a Champion should be, Duran is confident, fearless, and a little blood thirsty. Running his mouth at the front roll fans, Duran waltzes the aisle, and climbs into the ring. Taking off the precious gold strap that many seek but few find, Duran holds the title out in front of him, daring Williams to come and get it. Williams shows a great deal of restrain, literally holding himself back as Duran shoots challenging glares and taunts in his direction. Putting an end to this tough guy posing, Soapdish carefully takes the belt from Duran, and holds it over his head.

 

Comet: That’s what its all about, the SWF World Heavyweight Title! The biggest prize an in this industry, the honor that all who enter this business dream of obtaining.

 

Riley: Sale that bull to the tourists, money and chicks is what being a star in this sport is really about.

 

You can cut the tension with a knife as the ring gets cleared of everyone but three men, I hope I don’t need to tell you who they are. Things are already heating up as the start of the match inches closer and closer, with both wrestlers growing more and more impatient. Finally, Soapdish calls for the bell, and we are underway!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Going crazy at the sound of the bell, the vocal fans endlessly chant “DAN-E!” until their throats are dry and sore. As much as he would love to take the time to acknowledge his fans, Williams smartly keeps his eyes locked on his dangerous opponent. Equally focused but twice as aggressive, Duran methodically approaches Williams, instigating a collar elbow tie up. There’s a big round of applause as Williams and Duran vie for control of the grapple like power hungry beasts, struggling to sustain even the slightest advantage.

 

Riley: The last time these two met we were treated to one of the biggest blood baths in SWF history, and if were lucky history might just repeat itself.

 

Comet: It was a very grueling match indeed, citizen Riley. Both men lost gallons of blood and absorbed huge amounts of punishment, but in the end it was Danny Williams who emerged victorious.

 

Riley: With a fluke trick cradle! But thankfully after the match, John Duran proved to everybody who the real winner was.

 

Comet: I don’t think blind siding somebody with a low blow proves anything.

 

Riley: Evidently we have very different opinions what make a winner, Comet.

 

While Comet and Riley bicker back and forth, Duran begins to gain the upper hand on Williams. Thanks to his superior weight advantage, Duran muscles his smaller adversary back into the ropes, prompting Soapdish to order the break. Untangling his hands from Williams, the Notorious One uncharacteristically steps back with his hands raises in the air, showing the official that he intends on breaking clean. Not exactly trusting big John, a puzzled Williams raises his hands in defense.

 

Comet: How very noble of Duran to give Williams a clean break, perhaps we’ll see a nice respectful wrestling match.

 

Crushing Comet’s dream for a clean contest of mutual respect, Duran suddenly lunges forward, thrusting his knee into Williams’ abdomen! Not expecting the body shot, Williams gets the wind totally knocked out of him, causing the number one contender to sink to the canvas like a deflated balloon. Holding his stomach, Williams disgustingly dry heaves like he’s going to puke. Leaning forward, Duran begins screaming like a manic, spitting curses in Danny’s face that would make a sailor blush.

 

Riley: Screw respectful wrestling, Duran is bringing the hate tonight!

 

Comet: Citizen Williams appears to be badly injured.

 

Riley: He’s faking, he got taste of Duran’s power, and now he wants out of the match.

 

Doing his best to maintain order, Soapdish orders Duran to give his injured opponent some space. Squeezing a few last words in as he backs off, Duran lets Soapdish inspect the badly injured Williams. The enraged fans let Duran have it, damn near booing him out of the building. In response to fan’s lowered thumbs, the Notorious One raises his middle finger in defiance, which only further pisses off the crowd.

 

Comet: This is no way for a World Champion to behave, when you wear that belt you represent the entire SWF.

 

Riley: Are joking, this a Champion that kids can look up too. Children can learn a lot from this guy, like sign language.

 

Growing impatient, Duran grabs Soapdish by his shirt collar and tosses him aside. Forcing Williams to get on his feet, the Notorious One pushes him into the ropes, and sends him for the ride. The World Champion jumps into position in the center of the ring, hoping to catch Williams with one of his patent power moves. Knowing full and well that Duran has something nasty in store for him, Williams uses his cat like agility to jump up on the second rope. Springboarding back at the Champion, Williams athletically twists around in mid air, dropping Duran with a dazzling Jumping Forearm! Pleasantly surprised, the roaring fans jump out of their chairs in jubilation!

 

Comet: THE CHAMPION’S DOWN!

 

Riley: Don’t blow your load just yet Comet, that was more of a push than an actual knockdown.

 

Returning to his feet with a picture perfect kip up, Williams runs into the ropes, getting a huge bounce! Disoriented, Duran cluelessly wanders to his feet only to get leveled by a huge Running Elbow! The impact of the stiff blow sends a cloud of sweat flying off Duran’s head! Now suffering from a killer migraine, Duran slides to the floor in hopes of buying himself some recovery time. Staying on the move, Williams jogs back to the far side of the ring, prompting the fans to get off their asses and get their cameras ready. Getting a good bounce off the ropes, Danny bullets across the ring in a blur of light! Threading the needle, Williams dives through the ropes with perfect precision, blasting the rising World Champion with an awe inspiring Elbow Suicida! Catching his breath, Williams rests on the floor for a couple of seconds, while the fans madly scream their heads off.

 

Comet: With an impressive combination of speed and power, citizen Williams has put on the hurting on the World Champion.

 

Riley: The tempo is defiantly not Duran’s favor, he needs to put a stop this, or Williams could end up running away with another victory.

 

Returning to his feet, Williams plots his next move. Yanking the aching Duran up by his arm, Williams whips the World Champion towards the guardrail. Not cooperating, Duran stubbornly holds his ground, sending Danny flying into the steel instead!

 

Clank!

 

Sucking up the throbbing pain in his back, Williams ricochets back at Duran like a mad man! As his target approaches Danny swings out his left arm for the Neckbreaker Drop, but the Notorious One smartly ducks under it! Clamping his huge hand around Danny’s throat, Duran dominantly throws the challenger back into the direction from whence he came!

 

CLING!

 

Williams crashes into the guardrail with unnerving force, knocking the protective barrier several feet out of place! Badly hurt, Williams slides to the floor in a stupor while the devastated fans quiet down and find their chairs.

 

Riley: Ha, I knew Duran wasn’t gonna let Williams run all over him like he did last time!

 

Getting a sadistic glee in his eye, Duran swiftly peels up a section of the floor padding, exposing the hard concrete beneath.

 

Comet: What terrible fate awaits Danny Williams?

 

Grabbing Danny by his head, the Notorious One drags him over to the naked floor where he hastily positions him in a front facelock. To the horror of the fans, Duran snaps back, spiking the top of Danny’s dome into the unforgiving concrete! In a gruesome image, Williams stays suspended upside down for several seconds before gravity pulls the rest of his body back to the floor.

 

Comet: Great heavens!

 

Riley: Williams just got planted like a fence post! So Comet, what you do think of Duran’s DDT now?

 

Comet: I must say that it isn’t the prettiest DDT I’ve ever seen, but it certainly is the most brutal.

 

Grinning from ear to ear, Duran slides back into the ring where he is greeted with a hailstorm of boos. On the outside, the only movement Williams is capable of is rolling over on his back. Thick, sticky looking blood is now running from his forehead, covering his face in crimson. Hesitating at first, Soapdish reluctantly starts to count Danny out. Encouraging Williams to get up and continue the match, the fans begin a dramatic chant of “DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E!” Not wanting to disappoint his fans, Williams begins to weakly pull himself up with the ring apron. Streams of blood pour off Danny’s chin as soon as he turns upright, nearly painting his entire body in red.

 

Comet: That DDT has opened up a horrific gash on Williams’ forehead, I think Soapdish may need to stop this.

 

Riley: It’s a real gusher too, Comet. Make no mistake, Williams is gonna be at a huge disadvantage for the rest of the match which may not be very long.

 

Comet: In their last match, citizen Williams was able to even the odds pretty quickly when he got busted open, but even than it wasn’t nowhere as bad a cut as this one.

 

Knowing in the back of his mind that he won’t be satisfied with a count out victory, Duran shove Soapdish out of his way, and climbs back to the outside. Deciding that it would be best to get him back in the ring for a pin attempt, the Notorious One helps Williams the rest of the way up, and rolls him back into the ring. Duran hurries inside, but Danny annoyingly rolls back out the way he came. Stomping back out on to the ring apron, a pissed off Duran sizes up his sprawled out foe. Taking careful aim, Duran jumps off the apron, dropping his heavy tree trunk like leg across the back of Danny’s neck, re-familiarizing his face with the hard ass concrete!

 

Stunned by the innovative attack, the fans gasp a low, “Oooooooooooooooooh!”

 

After dusting himself off, Duran snatches Williams up by his hair and tights and slings him back into the ring for further abuse. Leaking blood all over the place, Williams pitifully crawls around, ignorant to the fact that the World Champion is stalking him from behind him. Inching closer to his victim, Duran stretches his arms out to the sides.

 

Comet: Duran, looking to lock on the dreaded Sleeperhold!

 

Riley: Since Williams has lost so much blood, a Sleeperhold might be just enough to take him out for good.

 

Like a tiger, Duran strikes, clamping his huge arms around Williams’ head! Moving more like an animal than a man, Duran violently twists Williams’ head from side to side like a predator tearing into it’s meal. Going into spasms, Williams kicks and fights as the air to his brain is cut off at the neck. It doesn’t take the Coliseum very long to erupt into yet another monster size chant....

 

“Let’s go Williams, Let’s go!” clap!clap! clap!clap!clap!

 

Feeding off the energy of the fans, Williams trembles as he battles his way to a vertical base. Duran is in total shock, unable to comprehend how somebody who’s lost so much blood can still put up a fight.

 

Riley: This isn’t possible!

 

Comet: Never lacking in the heart department, Danny Williams is somehow fighting his way out of the Sleeperhold!

 

From the vertical base, Danny begins to slam some back elbows into Duran’s abdomen, causing the big man to yelp out in pain. The unexpected strikes knock the wind out of the Notorious One, forcing him to release Williams from his slimily clutches! Celebrating his new found freedom, Williams darts into the ropes. Picking up some speed, Williams rushes right back into the weighting hands of John Duran!

 

KA-BOOM!

 

Duran catches his charging opponent with a thunderous Spinebuster! Jumping to his feet, the fired up World Champion parades around the ring, slinging trash talk at the fans who are unlucky enough to hear him.

 

Comet: Duran needs to quit worrying about the fair citizens of Virginia, and go for the cover.

 

Riley: The fans are putting up a better fight than Williams, at least they are holding their own in a verbal dispute. Williams on the other hasn’t done anything but bleed all night.

 

Holding his chest like he’s got the wind knocked out of him, Danny sluggishly crawls into the ropes, using the strong cables to pull himself upright. Poised and ready, the Notorious One allows Williams to climb up the ropes and get on his feet. Desperately trying to rub blood out of his eyes, Williams blindly staggers off the ropes, only to walk straight into a big right hand! The big punch sends the challenger reeling back against the ropes like a drunk that’s thrown too many back. Duran lets Danny stumble back in range before blasting him with a second knuckle sandwich! Out on his feet, Williams stumbles around every which way before Duran catches him by his hair. With a cute little jump, the Champion slams his knee into Danny’s face, knocking the challenger flat on his ass. Williams strains to get back up, but Duran cuts him off with a sadistic knee drop! Williams goes into convulsions, but that doesn’t stop Duran from covering him up for the pin.

 

 

One!

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

Shaking his head, Duran jerks Williams head up with a taunting,”No, no, no, no. Not yet.” Chuckling to himself, the cocky World Champion begins nudging Williams with his boot, demanding that the challenger get up and fight like a man.

 

Comet: What’s the point in this sadism, Duran could more than likely put Williams away if he wanted to.

 

Riley: This is a statement, a statement to anybody who doubts the credibility of Duran’s World Title reign. Since From the Fire, Williams has been the shadow of doubt looming over his head. However if he can not only defeat Williams, but totally annihilate him in dominating fashion than all doubt will be erased.

 

Rolling around in a pool of his own blood, the challenger begins to quietly stir. Doing their best to pull Williams through this dire situation, the fans gradually begin to stomp their feet and chant. To the fiendish delight of the World Champion, Williams somehow summons enough power to make his heavy legs move. Though his eyes are half open, and his face hidden behind blood and stringy hair, you can still see a look of raw determination etched across Williams’ face he stumbles to his feet. The heart broken fans are nearly in tears as Williams meekly motions for Duran to bring it on, and finish him off. Waiting for this moment for a long time, the World Champion takes a great pleasure in clubbing Danny with a big right hook! The huge punch perfectly bats Williams right into the path of a follow up left hook! Despite looking like the slightest breeze will knock him down, Williams stubbornly stays on his feet prompting Duran to finish the combo with another big right!

 

Blam!

 

Williams finally goes down, crushing the spirits of the hopeful in attendance. Showing no remorse, the Notorious One points and laughs at his floored adversary. Circling his helpless victim like a school yard bull, Duran slobbers disrespectful insults at the challenger to his title.

 

“Your nothing, Williams!” “Why don’t go back to the retirement home, you has been!” “Your nothing!” “Is this the best the SWF has to offer!”

 

Trying stop this match from becoming a bigger circus than it already has, Nick Soapdish chastises Duran for stalling. Yelling something like “I can do whatever I want”, Duran grabs the scrawny official by his shirt, and pushes him to the mat. Turning from sad to angry, the infuriated crowd becomes very hostile. The yellow shirts of security guards can be seen darting around the sea of humanity, doing their best to stop crazed fans from jumping the guardrail and starting trouble.

 

Comet: If Duran isn’t careful he could end up inciting a riot!

 

Riley: Hey, John Duran can’t be held responsible for the actions of these dirt farmers. Nobodies safe when these good o boys get liquored up, they’d pick a fight with the baby Jesus if they had the chance.

 

During all this chaos, Williams sluggishly crawls towards the safety of the ropes. Spotting Williams trying to escape out of the corner of his eye, Duran calmly struts on over to intercept him. Grinning from ear to ear, the Notorious One snatches the challenger by his hair and leads him away from the ropes like a parent dragging their kid away from a toy store. Suddenly, Danny springs to life with a desperation elbow! Releasing the challenger, Duran stumbles back into the ropes, clutching at his throbbing head. Not strong enough to stand up, Williams skids back to the canvas while a gigantic ovation breaks out in the stands.

 

Comet: With just one elbow, Danny Williams has stunned the World Champion!

 

Riley: Sorry to get your hopes up Comet, but it’s gonna take a lot more than that to turn the tide in Williams’ favor.

 

Knowing that it’s do or die time, Williams swiftly wobbles to his feet in hopes of capitalizing on the lucky elbow smash.

 

Crack!

 

Rocketing off the ropes, a now recovered John Duran drills the challenger with a big running forearm! The impact blows Williams back into the ropes like he’s going to launch a counter attack, however his legs give out, causing him to flop on his ass in embarrassment. As if he’s excepted his fate, a totally spent Danny Williams just leans back, resting his tired head on the second rope. Grabbing Williams by his long blood crusted hair, Duran drags the challenger to his feet. Running his thumb across his throat, the World Champion signals to the fans that it’s all over. Dragging Williams up by his tights, Duran quickly stuffs the challenger tightly underneath his arm pit.

 

Comet: He’s going for the Gut Wrench Powerbomb!

 

Hoisting Williams up into the air, Duran spins him around for the Powerbomb! However, the challenger shifts his weight, crushing the Champion with a Lou Thesz Press out of nowhere! The fans go ballistic as Soapdish drops down to start the count.

 

 

One-Duran effortlessly shoves Williams off his chest, letting everyone know that he’s far from hurt.

 

Riley: Look at that Comet, he couldn’t even keep him down for a one count.

 

Stomping to his feet, a snarling John Duran starts kicking and stomping at Danny as he pitifully crawls around on the canvas in a daze. Acting on instinct, the World Champion grabs the leg of his attacker, pulling him down to his level! More like drunks in a bar brawl than Olympic wrestlers, both men feverishly roll around on the mat, viciously clawing at each other. Gaining the upper hand, Williams ends up atop Duran. The crowd starts to make some noise as Danny begins clubbing Duran’s face with his forearm! Having busted Duran up, Williams grabs Duran’s arm, and falls to his side, stretching it out for the Cross Armbreaker! Luckily for Duran, he’s able to link his hands together before Williams can get his arm straightened out. Knowing how dangerous the hold is, the howling fans jump out of their chairs as Williams tugs on Duran’s arm, slowly prying his fingers apart!

 

Comet: THE JUJI-GATAME!

 

Riley: Duran is a tough guy, but even psychos like Nielsen of the Jungle have tapped out to this hold!

 

Unfortunately for Williams, this candle of hope is quickly extinguished. Using his superior size and power, Duran rolls off the mat, folding Williams up in a school boy like position! Working his way out of the hold, Duran drops a knee right across Danny’s mutilated face! The fans go dead quiet as freed Duran jumps to his feet with a triumphant scream.

 

Riley: Not even one of Williams’ most feared weapons can stop Duran’s rampage of destruction.

 

Comet: Duran is just too strong to be willed into the hold. If Williams is gonna catch him with something he’s gonna have to ambush him with it.

 

Mounting Williams, Duran uses wildly swung right hands to pound his victim’s face into bloody hamburger meat! Like something out of horror move, Duran hops off Williams, sprayed from head to toe in his blood. By now the canvas is totally painted red in Williams’ blood, even Soapdish has dots of crimson all over his body. Peeling the challenger off the canvas, Duran repositions him for the Gutwrench Powerbomb, flips him up, and spins him around! Danny splatters across the mat with a bone crushing thud, shaking the ring to it’s very foundation.

 

Comet: HE HIT IT!

 

Flaunting his superiority, Duran just stands one boot atop Williams’ chest, while he flexes his arms for the cocky pin.

 

Riley: Now that’s how a World Champion ends a match.

 

The devastated fans can only boo with disgust as Soapdish starts the count.

 

 

One!

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

 

............

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Williams rolls out from underneath Duran, somewhat surprising the World Champion.

 

Comet: Your not gonna pin somebody as resilient as Danny Williams like that.

 

Reaching down, the Notorious One grabs Danny around his throat, and pulls him up to his feet.

 

Riley: After he lands this Chokeslam he will.

 

Still having some wits about him, a wobbly Danny Williams reaches for the ropes with every ounce of desperation left in his body. Duran struggles to keep the challenger off the side lines, but it’s hard to stop someone who’s fighting for their life. With one final dive, Williams hooks an arm around the top rope, making a Chokeslam impossible. Getting a little pissed, the World Champion destroys Williams with some rabid punching! Having battered and bruised the challenger, big John sends him packing with an Irish whip. Williams stumbles his way into the ropes, bouncing back into the Notorious One’s death grip! Snatching Danny by the throat, the World Champion power hoists him into the air!

 

Riley: He’s got him up!

 

But suddenly, the challenger shifts his weight back to the canvas, using the change of momentum to take Duran off his feet with an Armbar Takedown. Scissoring the captured appendage, Williams fluidity dives behind Duran, rolling him up with the La Magisterial Cradle! Tied up like a pretzel The Notorious One violently thrusts his feet into the air, but no matter how much he struggles, he can’t seem to free himself.

 

Comet: This is what he defeated Duran with in their last meeting!

 

Overzealous, the fans scream along with Soapdish’s count!

 

 

“One!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Two!”

 

 

 

 

 

................

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

 

 

NO! Soapdish extends two fingers in the air, informing the crowd of their mistake! Untangling himself from Williams’ bloody clutches, Duran rolls to his knees, coming face to face with the challenger. Without hesitation, the Notorious One punishes Williams with a big straight right that would impress George Foreman!

 

Riley: All of Williams’ miracle weapons have been rendered useless against the World Champion, the challenger has got nothing left.

 

Comet: Perhaps your right, Duran is just too aware to be caught by a flash submission or roll up, and I don’t think Williams has the strength to win with anything else. He’s lost too much blood, and took too much punishment.

 

In a scene that’s all too familiar, Duran pulls Williams to his feet, and positions him for the Chokeslam! Dragging Danny up into the air, the powerful World Champion throws his victim straight down, driving him into the mat at a grotesque high angle!

 

Riley: Thugg who, that’s what I call a Chokeslam!

 

 

Sitting atop Williams’ chest, Duran raises both his middle fingers to the booing fans.

 

 

One!

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

 

...............

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! Twitching like a dying animal, Williams wiggles his shoulder off the canvas! Infuriated that his perfect victory was ruined, the Notorious One searches for a scapegoat. Finding one, Duran runs his mouth off at Soapdish, excusing him of counting slow.

 

Comet: Duran needs to quit worrying about Soapdish, and set his sights back on Williams.

 

As if he heard Comet and agreed, Duran gives the scrawny official one final push before going back to work on Williams. Totally out of it, Williams is going nowhere, lying helpless on the mat unable to accomplish the simple task of getting on his hands on his knees. Running in place, the Notorious One pumps himself up as he prepares to finish Danny off. Jerking his agonizing foe off the canvas, the Notorious One ducks under his arm, and scoops him up on his shoulders with relative ease!

 

Comet: HE’S GOING FOR THE BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA!

 

Riley: This is the move used to beat that paper Champion, Charlie Matthews!

 

Showing off his power, the Notorious One doesn’t follow through on the move, instead he carries Williams around the ring, making sure everyone in the building gets a good look at him. Deciding that he’s rubbed in his inevitable victory enough, the World Champion makes his way back to the center of the ring. But suddenly, Williams rolls off the broad shoulders of the Notorious One, landing elegantly on his feet! Solving this problem like he would any other, Duran swings out a right hand, but this time it’s blocked! With a lighting quick counter, Williams knocks the Champion silly with a razor sharp reverse elbow! Spinning back around, Williams decks Duran with a big Rolling Elbow! Both men go down in a cloud of blood and sweat, sending the ecstatic crowd into a frenzy!

 

Comet: UNBELIEVABLE! THE CHAMPION IS DOWN, AND FOR THE FIRST TIME TONIGHT DANNY WILLIAMS MAY HAVE A CHANCE OF PULLING OFF THE VICTORY!

 

Soapdish starts the customary double k.o. count, creating a panic in the crowd. The Notorious One is out cold, lying motionless on his back, while Williams is struggling to move. Urgently, the fans wildly chant...

 

“DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E!”

 

Fighting to stay consciousness, a pale white Danny Williams.....epically............crawls.............on top of.............Duran....................................for the cover!

 

 

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

......................

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! The Champion brings up his knee, slamming it right into Williams’ forehead, breaking up the pin in the nick of the time! Holding his jaw together, Duran stumbles to his feet, behaving as if he can’t feel the ground. Spotting Williams lying on the ground, the Champion gets a running start, and squashes his head with a nasty knee drop! Leaning up against the ropes, the Notorious One shakes his head from side to side, clearing the cob webs that the Rolling Elbow created. Looking over the top turnbuckle, Duran comes up with a clever if not cruel idea to end the match. Jerking Williams off the canvas like he’s a child, the Notorious hoists the weary challenger off the canvas, and sits him high up on the top turnbuckle.

 

Smack!

 

The big hand of the Notorious One tightly clamps around Williams’ wind pipe, and everyone in the building nearly loses their minds!

 

Comet: HE’S GONNA CHOKESLAM WILLIAMS OFF THE TOP TURNBUCKLE!

 

Riley: Let’s see Williams worm his way out of this.

 

Cameras start going off like machine gun fire as the World Champion struggles to lift Williams up and over his head. Resisting, Williams unleashes a hail storm of elbows down on to Duran’s jaw bone! The World Champion absorbs some heavy punishment, before finally releasing Williams. Foggy headed, Duran stumbles no where in particular, while Danny sizes him up. Springing off the second rope like a panther, Danny stuffs a forearm into the Champion’s already busted jaw!

 

CRAAAACK!

 

Both men are down yet again, the crowd is going totally nuts! Sluggishly crawling to a nearby corner, Williams hops up on another turnbuckle, where he patiently waits for Duran to get up. Unaware of the danger he’s in, the Notorious One foolish stands up, only to be floored by a second Diving Elbow!

 

CRAAACK!

 

Rolling out on to the ring apron, Williams labors his way up to the top rope. Leaping down on his rising enemy, Williams crushes Duran with one final Diving Elbow! Badly hurt, the World Champion curls up in a little ball, tightly holding his head as if he’s scared it’s gonna crumble apart any minute now.

 

Comet: This is astonishing! I don’t think anyone foresaw this, how could Williams lose so much blood, take such a horrific beating only to come back and put the Champion in jeopardy!

 

Riley: Williams hasn’t done a damn thing, Duran gave this match away.

 

All though he’s bled his life fluids all over the place, Williams digs deep within himself, finding the strength to do what needs to be done. Staggering to his feet like he’s dizzy, Williams flips his bloody bangs backs, and lets out an emotional scream to the fans. Like fellow roid abuser Mark McGuire, Williams charges up at the home plate, tensing his arms like he’s holding an imaginary bat. Really into the mat, the fans go berserk as Duran does exactly what the challenger wants and stands up! Letting out a battle cry that can be hear for miles, Williams spins at Duran, taking the biggest swing of his life!

 

Swoooooooooooooosh!

 

More aware of his surroundings than he let on, the Notorious One ducks under Danny’s arm, letting him spin wildly out of control! Realizing his mistake, Williams spins around to correct it.

 

Wham!

 

The Notorious One doubles Danny over with a boot to the gut, allowing him to grab a front facelock.

 

Riley: Duran’s gonna swing the momentum back in his favor with the move that gave him such a huge advantage in the first place!

 

Kicking out his legs, the punch drunk Notorious One sloppily drops back to the mat...

 

Comet: DDT!

 

but he’s all by himself! Confused, the Notorious awkwardly wobbles to a vertical base just in time to see Williams spinning off the ropes at him!

 

KA-POW!

 

Danny levels Duran with a huge Rolling Elbow, damn near knocking the World Champion out of his boots! Overcome with exhaustion, Williams collapses atop the Notorious One for what is sure to be the biggest victory of his career!

 

Comet: HERE’S THE COVER, WORLD TITLE ON THE LINE!!!

 

Screaming until throat’s bleed, the fans screech along with the count.

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

...................

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! Duran just barely kicks out, surprising the hell out of the crowd.

 

Riley: I’ve never seen Duran take this much abuse, but to his credit he still can’t be kept down for the three!

 

Running on fumes, a deranged Danny Williams jumps to his feet with a roar. Grabbing the Champion by his hair, Williams guides the near dead John Duran to his feet. Screaming like a lunatic, Williams drops back into the ropes, and explodes forward!

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

 

A third Rolling Elbow finds it’s mark, knocking the big World Champion heels over head! No longer having the strength to stand, Williams drops on top of Duran’s folded remains, holding him down with what little strength he has left.

 

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

....................

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

Williams rolls of Duran’s lifeless body, too drained to celebrate one of his greatest victories! The Coliseum is a mad house, thousands of people are massing near the front roll, hoping to get a closer look at this historical event. Soapdish raises Williams’ limp hand into the air, making the victory an official one.

 

Comet: This has got to go down as one of the greatest performances in history of Danny Williams’ career. Despite losing gallons of blood, he heroically fought on, and with the use of his most reliable weapon, his elbow, he was able to overcome his greatest foe yet.

 

Riley: After Williams gets out of the hospital, I hope he thanks John Duran for giving him the belt. Make no mistake t.v. land dwellers, Duran couldn’t have ended this match on several occasions but out of the goodness of his heart he gave Williams a fighting chance.

 

Comet: Kindness of his heart, it was vanity and sadism that motivated Duran tonight.

 

Riley: Vanity and sadism is about as kind as John Duran is gonna get.

 

Comet: Nether the less, history has been made tonight. And Danny Williams will no go down in the books as a two time World Champion!

 

Riley: I don’t see what the big deal is about holding the belt a bunch of times, all that means it that you also lost it a bunch of times.

 

Comet: Well, he’s the current Champion and I congratulate him.

 

Soapdish hands the belt down to Williams, who is still unable to get up. Most likely not even sure as to what he’s holding, a barely alive Danny Williams cradles the belt to his chest while the fans chant his name for the hundredth time tonight. Everyone's going home happy tonight, eexcept for John Duran that is. As if they were prepared for such a gruesome blood letting, medics frantically transfuse blood into Williams' body on the spot. Tonight, countless pints of blood have spilled for the richest prize in all the land. Such a disturbing scene has to make one wonder if it was all worth it, apparently it is for Danny Williams.

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

Read. Card will be up shortly, though the descriptions might be semi-half-hearted. I want to get it up as quickly as possible, and then sweet sweet sleep.

 

However.

 

CONGRATS TO THE NEW CHAMPZ~!

 

Alright. Now for the card...