SWF STORM! (5/28/04)

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

The Smartmark's Wrestling Federation Presents...

SWF STORM, *LIVE* FRIDAY, MAY 28TH, FROM *SOLD OUT* REXAL PLACE IN EDMONTON, ALBERTA, CANADA!

 

 

**DANNY WILLIAMS SAYS STUFF!**

The third time's the charm. God, LET IT be the charm. Danny Williams becomes the third man to be a three-time SWF champion, though he lacked the awe-inspiring dominance of SWF legends Rane and El Luchadore Magnifico. Here he will speak out about his title win, his future, and most importantly: The fact NO defense are tabled until the PPV. Thank God.

 

 

MAIN EVENT

BEST-OF-FIVE SERIES, MATCH THREE OF FIVE

HARDCORE MATCH

"The Superior One" Tom Flesher (1) vs Dace Night (1)

The series for the number one contendership is tied at one, and the field switches into Dace Night's advantage after a loss on Flesher's 'home turf' of a submissions match. Considering what's been happening to the SWF title lately, both of these men have to be kicking themselves that they got stuck in a best-of-five series...

Rules: None.

 

 

SINGLES MATCH

ICTV Title Match

Janus© vs Alan Clark

The Hell Machine is, for the second time, the SWF ICTV champion, having defeated the Straight-Edge Sensation for the second time. Funny how that works out. He faces off against Alan Clark, getting his first chance at truly significant gold, in an attempt to wash away the bitter taste of the debut of the New Wayward Sons.

Rules: Singles match.

 

TRIPLE THREAT, TWO FALL MATCH

USJL Title Bout

Hardcore Title Bout

Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix© vs Mike Van Siclen© vs "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins

Two falls, two titles, three men! Look familiar? To Mike Van Siclen, at the very least, it should. His bold statement of wanting to hold every belt in the federation could come a little closer to reality here, as he faces off against the number one contender to his hardcore title, Landon Maddix, who must also deal with a rematch against Spike Jenkins for his USJL title. In the same match! Such riveting booking genius! You're paying for the whole seat, but you'll only need the edge, oh yeah.

Rules: First fall is for the hardcore title, the second fall is for the USJL title. The Hardcore title fall will be competed under hardcore rules, the second will be competed under regular rules. First pin wins in both cases.

 

 

NO GRAVITY MATCH

Crusierweight Title Bout

Johnny Dangerous© vs Todd Cortez

Todd Cortez earned a shot at Johnny Dangerous' Crusierweight title some time ago, which apparently slipped the mind of the booking team. Erm, whoops. He cashes that in now against the Barricuda, having successfully knocked off his last challanger.

Rules: First man to hit five moves off the top rope is the winner. No other rules apply.

 

 

TAG TEAM MATCH

Insane Luchador & Austin Sly vs Crow & Ryan Dustin

Crow and IL are on a collision course, baybee! Or at least, that's what they're telling me. If they haven't informed you yet, shit, that's your problem. Austin Sly has some history with Crow, so he'll be teaming up with Los Loco Luchador to try and pummel the Gothic Avian into submission. But not to be unfair, in his corner, Crow has been provided with a very... interesting partner in crime.

Rules: Standard tag match. Remember the tag ropes.

 

 

SINGLES MATCH

"The Notorious" John Duran vs Ace Lezaire

The former World Champion managed to claw out of the beginnings of a bad tail spin with his defeat of Ryan Dustin on Smarkdown. Here, he's fed... erm, faces off with another relative newcomer, Ace Lezaire, in the beginnings of clawing his way back to the top.

Rules: Singles match.

 

 

SINGLES MATCH

Edward James vs David Blazenwing

In a surprise... surprise, Eddy J was introduced as the replacement for Coy West in the Wayward Sons tag team titles match last show. Unsuccessful, yet bitterly close to the gold, James looks to make sure this run in the SWF doesn't follow the last before a brief hiatus... a losing trend. Of course, David Blazenwing couldn't hope for anything more than James' continued poor luck.

Rules: Singles match.

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

SWF Storm comes on the air, with the obligatory cheering of fans and waving of signs and panning around the arena. From rafters to ringside, screaming and yelling, the fans are as always in attendance. We spin around the arena a few times rather dizzyingly, before we circle down towards the announce table where everyone's favourite announcing duo sits. Instead of their usual uber-cheering and snipes at each other, Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley are relaxedly quiet.

 

"Well, citizns and fans, tonight we looked to start your night with a matchup between the usually rather luckless

Citizen James, latest member of the Wayward Sons..."

 

"And the people many seem to think is the whipping boy of the SWF, David Blazenwing."

 

"Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond our control, Citizen James was detained and couldn't make it for tonight's show."

 

"So Interim Commisioner Zenon has promised us a lively replacement for Blazenwing's opponent tonight, so let's get this underway!"

 

And so the entire stage explodes with emerald flames, as the sound of "Last Resort" by Papa Roach blazes out of the speakers, heralding the arrival of David Blazenwing. The five foot eight, two hundred and forty five pound superstar strolls down the ramp, while Funyon appears to be having microphone troubles and can't make the announcement. So Blazenwing is unannounced as he rolls into the ring and rises onto the turnbuckle, and his theme music fades out.

 

At this point, Funyon mysteriously gets his microphone working and 'ahems' into it, while Cyclone Comet, Bobby Riley and the fans all stare at the Smarktron and the speakers, as "Last Resort" fades. There's utter silence, and then mist begins to float out of the gateway, roiling and green-tinged by the lighting. The fans hush, and the two announcers look at each other as music begins to hum out of the speakers.

 

Your cruel device...

 

"He didn't, Robert..."

 

Your blood, like ice...

 

"I think he called her again..."

 

One look could kill...

 

"Commissioner Zenon is a sick, sick man."

 

My pain, your thrill!

 

"Yep. I love it."

 

As Alice Cooper's "Poison" rips out of the speakers, a black clad figure come slipping through the smoke like a shadow. In a skintight black catsuit, long black hair trailing around a musteline, black-furred face and green eyes, comes every good male's worst nightmare. Funyon jumps to his feet and roars into his microphone with all the vigour he can muster.

 

"JESUS CHRIST, IT'S EBONY!"

 

The announcer promptly dives over the guardrail. The furry, lesbian ferret-weasel hybrid known as Ebony vaults onto the apron and over the top rope, bowing almost graciously to all and sundry that's female. Blazenwing looks on in some confusion as Ebony turns to face him, and shrugs. She just stands there with a grin on her face, and then David looks around and notices there's no referee.

 

And so, with great zest and vigour... Ebony kicks him in the nuts.

 

The look on his face makes every male wince and every feminist cheer, so as he doubles over, she drives her knee up into his groin as well. He groans, dropping to his knees and looking ready to cry at the nutshots, and Ebony tilts his head back and smiles innocently.

 

Then bitchslaps him, leaving clawmarks on his left cheek.

 

And after a thoughtful pause...

 

She bitchslaps him again for good measure, leaving another nice set of clawmarks on his right cheek. In pain and humiliation, Blazenwing attempts to spear the lesbian ferret-weasel back into one of the corners. But Ebony simply falls back into a monkey flip, which throws the erstwhile Blazenwing into the turnbuckle in perfect tree-of-woe position.

 

Innocently, Ebony strolls over and kicks his testicles again, then almost gleefully skips away. Settling in the opposite corner, she slaps one knee with a malicious grin. Pain burning through his groin, Blazenwing looks on from upside down as the ferret-weasel races across the ring. With perfect accuracy and focus, Ebony leaves the ground.

 

She's a good shot.

 

Especially with a running, flying knee to the crotch.

 

"OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

The fans cringe, the announcers cringe, Funyon cringes, and Blazenwing vomits with a strangled cry of pain. Ebony strolls away and rubs her chin thoughtfully, and sighs when she sees Dave has made a mess of himself. But that doesn't stop her from walking back over, tipping him out of the turnbuckles, and rolling him over. Lazily climbing to the top rope, she looks down below.

 

And jumps.

 

What a graceful moonsault.

 

Correct that, moonsault double stomp.

 

To, you guessed it, the groin.

 

"....." is all anyone says.

 

*BOOM*

 

Explosion.

 

Everybody male dies.

 

Except Thoth. And the announcers. Who look at each other.

 

"Ow." Riley cringes.

 

"That's what people get for not writing, I guess..." Comet winces.

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

"Well folks, in just a few..."

 

 

"PREPARE...FOR...LANDON!"

 

 

...WAAAAAHHHHH...

 

*DUM DUM*

 

Cyclone Comet is unable to even get halfway through his sentence before "Megalomaniac" by Incubus hits, and the SWF USJL Triple Crown Champion burts out from the back, an intense look of anger on his face as he storms down the aisle...Megan Skye emerges moments after him and having trouble keeping up with her man.

 

"Uh...ok, whatever." mumbles Comet. "We're not scheduled for the triple threat match yet are we?"

 

"Who cares?" beams Riley. "Landon Maddix is here!"

 

It doesn't take Landon long to powerwalk his way to the ring, rolling in and ordering a microphone from ringside which Funyon promptly delivers him with. Megan meanwhile is left to enter the ring on her own, with no Maddix to help her as is usually customary.

 

"CUT THE MUSIC! CUT IT!" yells Landon, as the monkeys in the production truck comply. "Turn it off, I'm not in the mood. You people can shut the hell up too!"

 

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

"Yeah...blow a goat. ALAN CLARK..."

 

The mere mention of the Wayward Son's name gets a pop from the crowd, and brings a sour look to Maddix's face.

 

"Alan Clark...I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired with you. For roughly four weeks, I have made challenge...after challenge...after challenge to you. Ever since Battleground I have been making the same challenge to you. Over and over and over again. And EACH week, you walk around with that smile on your face going about your own business...IGNORING ME! You don't ignore the USJL Triple Crown Champion! Do you think Toshiaki Kawada put up with being ignored? No! And neither will I!"

 

"Toshi who?" mumbles Riley. "Didn't he used to wrestle in the JL?"

 

"I...I don't recall that he did." Comet sighs in response.

 

 

"ALAN CLARK! ALAN CLARK! ALAN CLARK!"

 

"On Smarkdown..." Maddix continues, ignoring the chants. "I sent Ben Hardy to get an answer from you. Did he succeed? Did he hell! You gave him the same sort of vague mind game crap you've been giving me for the past three months! And just to top it off, you've been talking about that...that...'Book of Clark'. I tell you Alan, you've got some nerve. Not only are you avoiding my challenge. Not only are you producing a phoney book. But in that battle royal you and redneck Coy West threw Todd Royal out...and in the process...re-injured him."

 

"YEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

 

"Boy, that Todd Royal sure is injury prone, huh?" sniggers Comet.

 

"You people like that?" continues Landon. "You like it that a fine professional athlete has had his career postponed?"

 

"YEEEAAAAHHH!!!"

 

"Fine. Well, we'll see how you like this. Alan Clark...this is your last chance. If you've got any semblence of a ballsack that isn't belonging to one of your buddies...then you'll get your ass out here, and accept my challenge!"

 

Looking to the entranceway, Maddix holds his hands out and beckons Clark to come out...

 

 

 

...but that doesn't look like it's going to happen, as instead of walk out to the ring, Alan Clark suddenly appears on the SmarkTron. The crowd pop as they see him, while Maddix seems to be less than happy...especially considering the large grin on Clark's face.

 

"Hi Landon." Alan says mockingly. "So...how's things?"

 

"What's this Clark? You not gonna come out here?"

 

"Doesn't look like it, does it?"

 

Alan sniggers, before reaching out of shot and holding up something to the camera. That something being a book. The Book of Clark. Understandably Landon and Megan both look furious at what Clark is holding, as Clark himself is still grinning.

 

"Landon, this Book..."

 

"No, no." Maddix cuts Clark off. "Cut the crap Clark. Like I said...I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. You make me sick and tired Alan. We need to settle this. No mind-games, no Books, no crap. I want you in the ring so we can settle this. The fifth, final and deciding match. Once we've got that over and done with, you can go your way and I'll go mine. You won't have to worry about me and I won't give a crap about you. This has gone on for too long. It seems I can't turn around without having you there. I thought we settled this back in the SJL, but we didn't. I thought the Empty Arena Match would settle it, but it didn't. But I'm sick to death of fighting you. So we DO need to settle it this time. Which is why I'm...ONCE AGAIN...challenging you to a final match. Whad'ya say Clark?"

 

Landon pauses, waiting for an answer as Clark starts to ponder the proposition...before grinning.

 

 

 

".....Sure."

 

"...Sure? Sure? That...that easy?"

 

"No, Landon...come to think of it...it's not going to be 'that easy'."

 

Maddix looks confused, as Clark opens up the Book and starts scanning through a few pages with the smile still etched on his face.

 

"Landon...I've been watching you. Not in some sort of stalking way of course. I saved that for Megan..."

 

 

"YEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

 

The crowd pop, as Megan looks shocked...but Clark just laughs.

 

"I'm kiddin', I'm kiddin'. Relax. No Landon, you see, I've been watching you and your matches. And there's something I've noticed. A pattern. A constant. Something that seems to keep cropping up with you match after match, week after week, month after month. Whever it's...a lowblow. Or a distraction by Megan. A thumb to the eye. A choke. There always seems to be one thing constant Landon. So I have to ask Maddix...when was the last time you won without cheating?"

 

Not even bothering to answer, Landon looks at his Rolex watch...making sure that Clark gets the hint.

 

"If we're going to settle this Landon, I need it to be on my terms. See, I don't want to lose this little series between us on a screw-job finish. I know you, and I know that there's no levels you won't stoop to to cheat a win out."

 

"So, let me guess." snaps Maddix. "What is it you want? No DQ's so everything's legal."

 

"No. You're missing my point Landon. See...I have no problem with you cheating to win. I know that's the only way you CAN win nowadays, since Todd Royal made you weak. But what I'm saying is...I don't want to lose to some sort of cheap method of cheating by you."

 

"So what? Submissions match, so the win is fair no matter what?"

 

"And LET you choke me out like you did to Spike Jenkins? Quit putting words in my mouth Landon, and let me finish. I know you...so, I should know when you're about to cheat. But I also know that one mistake, and that's it, you've screwed me out of the series. I don't want that. If you cheat to beat me...then that's my fault for not spotting it."

 

Clark stops again, with a shake of the head and a wry smile.

 

"Are you...going to get to the point?" sighs Maddix.

 

"You're the USJL Champion right?"

 

"Yeah..."

 

"And one of those titles is the SWF US Title, right?"

 

"Well, obviously."

 

"I'm not sure how much you know about that title's lineage...but let me take you down memory lane. One of the men who held that title was Danny Williams..."

 

The crowd pop for the mention of the current World Champion's name.

 

"...and it was just over a year ago that he and Mak Francis..."

 

Another pop for Francis' name.

 

"...were feuding over that belt. And they met at From The Fire 2003, and had a match that helped cement them both as legends in this company. Now, Landon...here's the million dollar question. Do you know...what type of match they had?"

 

Landon looks a little confused and shakes his head, as a faint chant starts up in the arena from those who do know.

 

"Time's up Landon. Which...is an appropriate statement now that I come to think of it. You see Maddix, I heard through the grapevine a rumour about you being an...'early finisher'..."

 

 

"RRRAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

 

The crowd pop BIG-TIME, as Maddix is on the verge of exploding in rage.

 

"...whatever that means. So, I want to test it out."

 

"Are you going to get to the point, because I've got an important title defence to prepare for!"

 

"Fine. Maddix...if you've got the balls, I'm challenging you to a match...at 13th Hour...for whatever title it is either of us has by the time that night rolls around...one on one...

 

 

 

SIXTY...

 

...MINUTE...

 

 

...IRONMAN...

 

...MATCH!!!!!

 

 

"YEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

 

"Now THAT'S a challenge!" erupts Comet over the screaming crowd.

 

"An Ironman Match!?!" Riley wails. "Clark's got to be crazy!"

 

Both Maddix and Megan look more than a little taken aback at Clark's request. Hearing the crowd's cheers dieing down into a buzz of excitement Landon starts to look around nervously, knowing that he is now expected to give an answer...maybe an answer he doesn't want to give...

 

 

".....Fine...I accept!"

 

Maddix's agreement brings another pop from the crowd, as suddenly Alan Clark disappears from the screen almost as quickly as he had appeared earlier...leaving a flustered Maddix in the ring with Megan checking if he's ok.

 

"Alan...you may think you've won this round. Believe me though. You will regret this..."

 

Angrily Landon slams the mic down to the mat as "Megalomaniac" hits once more, whilst he and Megan exit the ring and begin to walk back up the ramp, with Megan still checking if Landon's ok.

 

"Well, what a bombshell just dropped." Comet says excitedly. "At 13th Hour, Alan Clark and Landon Maddix will settle the score...and they'll do it in a Sixty Minute Ironman match!!!"

 

"I still can't believe Landon accepted..."

 

"Neither can I. I would have thought he'd chicken out."

 

"I didn't think that. I just...I mean...err..."

 

"We'll be back in just a moment folks, with more SWF action, so don't touch that remote...or we'll send someone 'round to kick your ass. We're not joking..."

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

Fade in.

 

Through the camera, we see the infamous SWF Water Cooler (™, bitch!) standing on its lonesome in the middle of one of the emptiest hallways in the Arena. It’s the way he likes it, you see... assuming that a water cooler has a gender. Anyway... soon, the Antichrist Superstar’s woman, Jessica walks into the picture and decides to grab a cup of water. She mumbles to herself as she gets the drink of water...

 

“...bloody Markus, making me get his water... ‘oooh I have a match tonight, therefore you have to be my slave‘... pft, yeah right, if anything, he’s my bitch...”

 

...she continues to mumble to herself until...

 

*CLANG!*

 

...makes her jump and turn around to see where the noise came from. To her horror, standing behind her with a smirk on his face is the one and only Insane Luchador, Andrew Rickmen. Jessica lets out a small shriek in surprise and this makes Rickmen jump as well, prompting him to look around to see if anything scary is among them...

 

“What?” Andrew asks slightly confused, “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

 

Jessica is a little hesitant to reply, “...yeah, you did...you should tell somebody if you’re gonna sneak up behind them...”

 

“Now now, that wouldn’t be much fun, would it?” responds Andy with a smile.

 

His smile seems to have a profound effect in easing Jessica’s tension as she smiles back and relaxes a little, “So... who are you? I don’t think we’ve met before...”

 

“Haha,” chuckles Rickmen, “Really? You don’t know who I am? That’s surprising, since I wrestle quite often...”

 

“Well... I’m don’t really watch the shows anymore... I don’t like seeing Markus get hurt...”

 

“Uh huh... I’m Andrew Rickmen, better known as Insane Luchador or ‘IL’ around here... I’ve wrestled Markus a couple of times before...” answers Rickmen as he scratches the back of his neck. He then points to the cooler, “You don’t care if I jump in front of you and grab myself a cup of water, do ya?”

 

“Oh, no!” embarrassingly giggles Jessica as she moves out the way, “Sorry...”

 

“Ahaha, it’s no problem,” laughs Andrew while he turns the tap. A weird silence falls upon the conversation as he fills his cup and begins to drink it. “So... ...I’ve heard round the locker rooms that you and Crow have been dating for a while... um, so how’s that been going for you?”

 

Jessica shrugs her shoulders, “Same ol, same ol, I guess... well... he’s been a little odd lately... but I guess that’s the stress the wrestling causes.”

 

“Odd?” IL’s eyebrow rises, “What do you mean odd?

 

“Oh... you know, he’s just a lot more moody nowadays... and he yells at me a lot more,” Jessica looks down at her cup and runs her finger around the edge, “...It’s just his way...” She looks back up and sees IL’s prying eyes, urging her to say more, “...though... he has been treating me even more like crap in the past couple days...”

 

Rickmen continues to pry, “Has he hit you?”

 

“WHAT!?” is Jessica’s surprised reply, “Markus!? Ahaha! He’d never do anything physically damaging to me!”

 

“That’s good to hear.”

 

“Yeah... he doesn’t express his anger with me through violence, it’s just his attitude. Like now, he made me come and get him this cup of water,” says Jessica, raising the cup, before continuing, “He just gets bossy, chauvinistic and verbally abus-...”

 

“ANDREW!” an unknown voice yells from down the end of the corridor, cutting Jessica off and causing IL to turn around, “The book wants to see you NOW!”

 

“Sorry Jessica, we’re gonna have to cut this shor-” Rickmen says... but then he stops, and sees the figure of someone he’d rather not see right now, “I have to jet, babe. Nice talking to you...”

 

“Ok, bye!” says Jessica as Rickmen runs away.

 

“Oh, by the way, Jess...” begins Andrew, turning back around, “Just know if you were mine... I’d treat you right...” He winks and runs off.

 

Jessica shouldn’t smile...

 

She really shouldn’t smile.

 

...but she does and giggles as IL runs off. Jess turns stops waving and turns around to walk off...

 

...only to bump into the figure Rickmen wanted to avoid...

 

...

 

The Antichrist Superstar.

 

“Oh!” worryingly shouts Jessica, “Hi Markus! I have your water!” She gives it to him... but he throws it away. He was already in a bad mood... and this has made him even more irritable.

 

“Don’t play stupid with me, Jess... I saw who the fuck you were talking to.”

 

“...so? It was just Andrew... he seemed nice,” innocently says Jess.

 

...

 

“Nice? ...Andrew Rickmen... NICE!? He’s a fucking psychopath!” shouts Crow, shaking his head.

 

“Ah, bullshit, Markus!” swears (!) Jessica, “You really gotta stop this macho shit and realise that I talk to other guys! You don’t own me, Mark!”

 

“Jessica...”

 

“No! You’re just an overly jealous boy!”

 

“JESS! Listen to me...” Crow tugs on his hair, “Just listen to me... he is not sane. Please... promise me that you’ll stay away from him...”

 

Jessica starts to rebut, but Crow won’t let her... “Don’t even try... I want you to stay away, you understand me, STAY AWAY from Andrew Rickmen...”

 

Jessica doesn’t show it, but she’s shocked at this side of Markus, “Fine...” she says after giving up, “But... do I still get to come out to ringside to watch your match?”

 

“Fuck no! Rickmen’s out there... I’m not gonna let ya, it’s too dangerous.”

 

Jessica taps her foot on the ground and spits in disgust, “Markus, you don’t own me! I can take care of myself!”

 

“Yeah, right... remember what happened last time? Huh!?” rebuts Crow, remembering the Knuckle Bomb from Janus, “...when you’re here, in my world, I do own you, Jessica. When will you realise it’s for your own safety?”

 

“You’re such a prick, Markus... why am I even dating trash like you!?” Jessica shouts as she storms away back to Crow’s locker room.

 

“AHHHH, JESSICA!” cries a frustrated Gothic Warrior. Clutching at his head for a moment, he decides it’s the best idea to run after her... and that’s what he does.

 

Once again, the hall is empty and focuses only on the SWF Water Cooler.

 

...

 

That is, until Ace Lezaire walks onto the screen, smiles – show casing his perfect teeth -, flexes and swankily exclaims, “Whoa, heavy!” and then asks, “Did you get all that, Steve?”

 

A thumbs up appears in front of the camera.

 

“Excellent.”

 

Ace flexes another time before grabbing a cup and filling it with water. He leans against the cooler brashly and drinks it...

 

...damn, I wish I were that cool.

 

Fade out.

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

… And as SWF Storm fades in from the commercial break, we’re treated to a panoramic view of the beautiful city of Edmonton, while a graphic appears at the bottom of the screen to confirm that in fact, yes, we are in Edmonton, and we are LIVE!

 

The bright lights of the city soon fade away into a shot of the throngs of SWF fans inside the arena, still buzzing from the epic match witnessed just before the break, but they’re ready for more, as we cross to…

 

“…CYCLONE COMET!” The Superhero bellows, while a graphic appears to reiterate that point yet again, “and a very good evening to you all, as you’ve just joined us in time to see the next match on the card, and I prepare to lead the crowd in a chorus of boos for the participants.”

 

“The overuse of graphics is really getting on my nerves,” utters Riley with a grumble, as a graphic appears on the screen with his name on it, blocking his face. “You idiots! The people at home can’t see me!”

 

“Perhaps that is for the best, my frightful friend,” replies Comet with a snicker, “but enough clowning around Robert, we have action to get to, as a former World Champion is fed another victim on his way back to the top, and I couldn’t be more thrilled!”

 

Riley looks severely agitated as he looks into the camera, keeping a lookout for any rogue graphics on his monitor. “Your obvious sarcasm aside, spandex freak, this should be a tremendous spectacle. Another rookie, fresh out of the minor leagues, faces the Notorious One, and may god have mercy on their soul, because these fans sure won’t.”

 

“Now, now, Robert” interjects Comet, “let’s not be too hasty. John Duran, despite coming off victorious against Ryan Dustin, is still in average form at best. As much as Ace Lezaire makes my skin crawl, I won’t write him off already here tonight!”

 

While Comet remains as positive as he can for Lezaire, the fans demand bloodshed, and bloodshed they will receive. They remain buzzed, like a powder keg ready to explode as they wait for some activity, but…

 

…Nothing. They look around confused, wondering if there’s been a mix up, and still, nothing happens. The crowd falls to near dead silence as they look to the entranceway, waiting, watching…

 

…

 

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

 

The arena is suddenly rocked to its very foundations as the hard bass line strikes and…

 

BOOM!

 

… A massive wall of white, blinding pyrotechnics, signaling the arrival of Canada’s greatest hope, Ace Lezaire! As the crowd finally regains their vision, they watch Ace Lezaire strolls out, arms outstretched and a sheepish grin from ear to ear. The fans give him a less than deserving welcome, booing the self-proclaimed Canadian hero, proving he is nothing of the sort. Steve follows in close pursuit as

Ace strides down the ramp way, telling his personal cameraman to film the thousands on thousands of fans chanting his name in homage.

 

LE - ZAIRE SUCKS!

LE – ZAIRE SUCKS!

 

“…We can edit out the ‘sucks’ part later, right?” Lezaire asks with concern as he reaches ringside. Funyon stands in the centre of the ring alongside referee Anthony Michael Hall, ready for his announcing duties as Lezaire climbs up onto the ring apron, looking out amongst the capacity crowd.

 

“The following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Vancouver, Alberta, Canada…”

 

BOOOOOOO!

 

“… He weighs in at two hundred and thirty pounds; please welcome your hero, and mine…ACE LEEEZZZAAAIIIRRREEE!”

 

Once he hears his name, Ace raises his arms like a prophet, or in this case, a false idol as he looks to the heavens and smiles, before entering the ring and beginning his pre-match warm-up of chatting to Funyon.

 

“Despite this being Citizen Lezaire’s native homeland,” notes Comet, listening to the fans ‘warm’ reception, “he does not seem to be welcome, but I can see why! He does his country no justice acting the way he does, all high and mighty, when he is yet to prove himself!”

 

“In due time, Comet, they’ll come to appreciate Lezaire for the fine athlete he is and the hero he will soon be… just not tonight,” responds Riley with a somewhat sadistic grin as he looks to the top of the ramp as the lights go out and white letters appear on the SmarkTron, spelling out…

 

NO…

 

NO…

 

NOTORIOUS!

 

While those words fade out into Spineshank’s “Synthetic,” the whole crowd gets up from their seats to make sure Duran receives a hostile welcome as he walks out from behind the black curtain. As always, the former World Champion takes it all in his giant stride, making his way down the ramp with the utmost intent in his eyes as Funyon gets on the mic, and Lezaire begins to cower ever so slightly…

 

“…And his opponent, from Champaign, Illinois. He weighs in at two hundred and sixty eight pounds… he is the NOTORIOUS…JOHN DUUUURRRAAAAANNNNNN!”

 

“An incredibly impressive presence in the ring,” Comet admits, though despising the Notorious One, “he holds a BIG advantage in terms of size over the wiry frame of Lezaire, but what he lacks in size and intestinal fortitude, Ace well than makes up for in speed and… well, not much else I’m afraid.”

 

“To be honest, I don’t know how Lezaire could ever hope to triumph against the Unnamed Champion, who is building a fire within, and with every victory he is feeding that fire…”

 

Duran climbs through the ropes and enters the squared circle as Lezaire finally shows some courage, standing tall in the centre of the ring, while John surrounds him, circling like a starving vulture.

 

Hall, avoiding Duran at all costs while he dances around the ring, finally points to ringside to officially begin this contest!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Lezaire hears the bell, but is frozen in place, growing uneasy in his current position. He looks to step away, but Duran darts forward and drives a knee into his side, quickly putting a halt to those plans. Instead of capitalizing, Duran backs away with a sick smile on his face. Lezaire braces himself and works back to two feet, trying to step away again. Duran pounces with another driving knee, doubling Ace over. The fans remain indifferent as they enjoy Ace writhe in pain, but jeer as the Notorious One raises an arm, milking them for praise.

 

“Citizen Duran is simply playing with Lezaire like a trapped mouse!” Comet exclaims. “He’s having his fun just letting him stew before planting the killer blow!”

 

“I doubt Ace has EVER ran into a man as dominant and powerful as John Duran,” replies Riley, giving due respect to the Notorious One, “but he better pull his head out of the sand and do something, or he’ll be beaten from pillar to post in front of his own countrymen.”

 

The crowd is stirred up, on tenterhooks as they wait to see how Lezaire responds. He looks around for an escape, but the ropes seem like prison bars and Duran his giant, overweight cell mate, ready to make him his bitch. The Notorious One sets his plan into action as he steps forward, letting fly with another gut wrenching knee, sending Ace reeling against the ropes, wincing in pain. The former World Champion takes Lezaire by the arm and sends him across the ring with an Irish Whip, almost pulling his arm from its socket!

 

Rebounding from the ropes, Lezaire comes sprinting back as Duran swings wildly with a clothesline, but Lezaire ducks underneath in the nick of time!

 

Comet looks surprised as he watches Lezaire hit the opposite ropes, “now, if Citizen Lezaire can mount some sort of offense from here, he could begin to build some momentum!”

 

Lezaire knows this too, and leaps into the air, turning sideways in mid-air, hurtling towards Duran’s chest with a Cross Body! But “no dice” says the Notorious One as he catches the Canadian in mid-air and turns him around…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Nailing him with a Spinebuster, drilling his spine into the canvas! “OOOH!” the fans cry as the Notorious One drops to his knees and plants his hands on Lezaire’s chest, smirking while he watches Ordonez slides long the canvas and count

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO!

 

“Only two!” Ced reiterates as Duran looks up at him, knowing he could have had it right there, but Ordonez only shows him the two fingers. “He was so close to ending this match in the first two minutes,” says Comet, still cringing from the back breaking slam, “but he has all but dashed Citizen Lezaire’s hopes of an epic victory in his own backyard!”

 

“You need only look at Lezaire to see what a spineless wimp he can be, and Duran has taken full advantage of that, dispatching the cocky Canadian already!”

 

“But, if he’s spineless, replies Comet, Riley groaning already, “wouldn’t a Spinebuster have no affect on him?”

 

“You’re terrible, Comet.”

 

Scampering across the ring to avoid the Notorious One, Lezaire seeks the sanctuary of the ropes, but finds none as Duran grabs a fistful of hair and throws him into the corner. Duran takes a step back, using his hands to form a picture frame much like Ryan Dustin, and the fans know it and rain down abuse on the Notorious One! They can’t stop Duran bringing his leg into the air and boot across Lezaire’s throat, choking the life out of him! Ced in on the scene and warns Duran to stop but to no avail, before instituting a count

 

“ONE”

 

 

“TWO”

 

 

“THREE”

 

 

“FOUR”

 

Duran wisely stops before the count of five, grinning at Ordonez who points his finger and tells the Notorious One to watch it. Duran takes Lezaire by the back of the head and pulls him out of the corner, right into another knee, attempting to drive the air out of the poor Canadian, and another just for good measure. Once satisfied, Duran whips Lezaire across the ring into the opposite corner, sizing him up, before taking a run at him, ready to crash into him with all his weight and power…

 

“Citizen Duran looking for a splash in the corner, but he’s taking an awful lot of time to attack…”

 

“Like it matters, Comet,” Riley cuts in, shaking his head, “because we all know a Blunt Force Trauma is coming soon enough, it’s just a matter how long Duran leaves Lezaire on the bottom of the boat, flapping around before putting him out of his misery.”

 

Duran comes charging across the mat, arms outstretched, but Lezaire wisely dives out of the way! Duran realizes his mistake but can’t stop and goes hurtling into the turnbuckles at full speed! As Duran stumbles backward, Ace scrambles across, puts one arm between his legs and pulls him down with a School Boy, grabbing a handful of tights on the way down!

 

“He may actually have him!” Comet cries as Ordonez comes across he make the count

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO!

 

But Duran quickly powers out as another “OOOH!” breaks out from the crowd, the near fall bringing them to their feet. The Notorious One gives Lezaire no time to rest as he meets his opponent in the centre of the ring, doubling him over with another vicious rising knee. Duran latches onto Lezaire’s neck eagerly, locking on a side headlock, depriving Ace of air as the blood rushes to his head.

 

“Duran’s playing it smart Comet,” Riley tells his cohort, “by slowing down the high flying Lezaire and depriving him of his one hope to win this match.”

 

The fans loudly boo and hiss while Duran bores them with a headlock, and makes Lezaire suffer. The Canadian shows he has some spirit and quiet cunning, surprising the big man with a stiff punch to Duran’s chest! The Notorious Duran is forced to let go as he struggles for air, and Lezaire picks his spot wisely, putting his nearest leg on top of Duran’s head and flipping himself up and over behind Duran! Ace quickly backs into the ropes, bouncing off and hurtling towards the Unnamed Leader, crashing into the back of his knee with a seated dropkick!

 

“If he wants to bring Citizen Duran down to size,” Comet says, “attacking the leg is the way to go!”

 

“A cunning stratagem indeed, Comet, but can Lezaire keep his own ego in check long enough to capitalize?”

 

Duran unceremoniously falls on his back but whirls back to his feet, grunting with anger, but Lezaire is there to meet him with another low dropkick taking him down to one knee! Lezaire takes another running start coming off the ropes, stepping up onto Duran’s extended leg and twisting around, kicking Duran in the back of the head with a tremendous THUD!

 

“A picture perfect step up Enzui Heel Kick Riley has Duran down, but will it be for the three count!?”

 

“Don’t be silly, Freak, it’ll take a lot more than that to keep my boy down,” replies Riley with a lump in his throat, “won’t it?”

 

The crowd is on their feet as they boo their Canadian brethren, but for once, he pays no attention to the fans, instead he takes Duran by the legs and does a forward flip, ending up in a bridged position for the pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO!

 

…But Duran is no fool and certainly no weakling, powering his way out with ease. Lezaire scampers to his feet, simply shocked by how quickly Duran kicked out. He has a moment of indecision as Duran climbs to a vertical base, before charging from a three point stance and taking Duran’s feet out from under him with a Chop Block!

 

With his opponent flat on the mat, Lezaire quickly spins around and takes the weakened right leg of Duran, pivoting around on the spot, trying to lock on a Figure Four! But Duran knows how to counter, kicking Ace in the back and pushing him away, avoiding the hold. Lezaire stumbles across the mat, giving Duran enough time to pull himself up, but Lezaire leaps and turns around in one fluid motion, sending a Spinning Sobat kick into Duran’s ribcage!

 

“Lezaire is desperate to stay in control,” notes Riley, “but one simple mistake could blow his chances all together…”

 

“Being as large and bulky as evil Citizen Duran is, he’s always had many a foe try disabling the leg to bring him down, but he can use Citizen Lezaire’s inexperience to his advantage to easily turn the tide!”

 

Just as Comet finishes his sentence, Duran clutches his stomach, breathing heavily while Lezaire raises his arms to the heavens, thanking them for giving him such talent. The fans boo, telling him to get on with it, but he takes his time, backing into the ropes at a snails pace, rebounding back towards the Notorious One…

 

… But Duran suddenly props himself up and Lezaire’s eyes suddenly bulge with utter shock, as John lifts him into the air with a Gorilla Press, before throwing him over his head and…

 

“Oh boy!” cries Comet, watching the Canadian go airborne. “He takes his time and pays the price, flight Lezaire coming down to earth and…!”

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

Sending him landing face first onto the canvas! Duran turns back around and shakes his head at the youngster before scraping his carcass off the mat and sending him into the ropes with an Irish Whip, scooping him up as he returns and…

 

 

SLAM!

 

 

…Taking him over with a thunderous Powerslam in the centre of the ring!

 

“This has got to be it, Lezaire has learnt his lesson that you can’t cut down Duran in his prime, and Duran has mercilessly finished him right here,” Riley confidently announces, as Duran hooks Ace by the leg and Ordonez slides over

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEE…

 

NO!

 

“He kicked out!” Comet suddenly shouts, thinking it were over as well. “Lezaire, for all his short comings is a gutsy kid, full of that youthful exuberance we’ve long since grown out of, but even I don’t want to see him suffer any more punishment than he has too at the hands of this vile, sadistic man!”

 

“You might not, but I sure do, Comet,” “I love seeing Duran reach this point, where he simply want to beat the hell out of his opponent. It takes me back to fonder times, when the championship resided around his waist. Mark my words, he’s thinking of that title belt too, and it won’t be long until it’s his again.”

 

The Championship is indeed on Duran’s mind as he looks down at Lezaire’s crumpled corpse, imagining Danny Williams, only Canadian and with smaller elbows. The Notorious One takes Ace rather nonchalantly; lifting him to his feet slowly but pays the price as Lezaire surprises him with a few lighting quick karate kicks to Duran’s midsection! Lezaire runs into the strands, building up tremendous speed from such a quick start and uses it to leap onto Duran’s shoulders, trying to take him over with a Hurricanrana!

 

Duran holds on to Ace’s legs and blocks the move, letting Lezaire dangle precariously, head pointing straight at the mat! But Lezaire shows his great agility by pulling himself back up onto Duran’s shoulders, battering him a flurry of right hands to the head! Duran staggers slightly, but counters easily, falling backwards and hanging Lezaire out to dry on the top rope!

 

“OOOH!” the fans cry along with the announcers, watching Lezaire bounce back up onto his feet, clutching at his throat. “Citizen Lezaire is finally using his superior speed to his advantage, but it seems to be too little too late!”

 

“He had to explode out of the blocks and run rings around Duran from the opening bell, but as I’ve said so many times before, Duran is as smart a wrestler as you’ll see today. He started slow, intimidating then pounding down Lezaire from the get go, wonderful to watch.”

 

Running around like a headless Chicken, Lezaire struggles for air, but Duran soon catches him, taking him by the arm and propelling him into the ropes with all his power. Instead of backing into the ropes, Ace lowers his head and hits the strands, flipping himself up and over onto the apron! Lezaire turns around just in time to see Duran charge with a head full of steam, only to be doubled over by a Lezaire shoulder charge to the ribcage!

 

“Or is it too late, Riley!?” Comet suggests almost hopefully, seeing the rookie take hold of the top rope tightly.

 

“It damn well better be! I like Lezaire, I’d love to see more of the kid, but there’s no way he’s taking down Duran, no way, no how.”

 

Comet watches the action intently, his acute Superhero senses suggesting something big, “Citizen Lezaire vaults over the top rope, pulling Duran down with a Sunset Flip…!”

 

But Comet speaks too soon as Lezaire continues to roll through, taking hold of Duran’s right leg and leaning back, locking on a High Angle Single Leg Crab! The fans don’t know how to react as they see Duran writhe, a pained look on his face as both his long arms stretch out, a mere few inches from the bottom rope, but Lezaire holds on to that leg for dear life, not giving Duran that extra inch in which to escape.

 

“Instead of trying for the fluke pin which failed once before, Citizen Lezaire opts instead to continue working on Duran’s leg! We could be seeing the beginnings of a budding ring general, Robert, as much as I hate to say it, but love seeing Duran cry out in agony!”

 

“A smart move, one even Duran may not have expected, but a single leg crab does not impress me. Duran is already a whisker away from the ropes…”

 

The crowd doesn’t know how to react; still indifferent as to whom is the greater evil, but Lezaire gets a loud pop nonetheless as he pulls the big man away from the ropes and back into the centre of the ring! Using the same leg, Ace entwines his right leg with Duran’s in a sort of Indian Death Lock, but then reaches back with a bridge, taking Duran by the neck!

 

“All I can say is,” Comet says, watching the brutal hold applied, “WOW! A seamless transition from the Single Crab to the Patented Sickle Hold making its first appearance!”

 

“What!? How!?” is all Riley can muster as a response, watching Duran dig his nails into the canvas, clawing desperately for the ropes in front of him. “The kids got some moves, but Duran is a tough son of a bitch, lasting much more brutal wars than this…”

 

Comet shakes his head as he watches Duran struggle to move, Lezaire lowering his own body to increase the pressure and weight placed on Duran, “but Citizen Duran has been an absolute mess as of late, drinking heavily and letting himself go the way of the slob, does he have enough to mount a comeback?”

 

Duran is determined to prove his critics wrong as Lezaire taunts the former World Champion from his superior vantage point, but the Notorious One soldiers on, carrying himself and Ace towards the strands in front of them. With one, final, desperate lunge, Duran shoots his arm forward, and…

 

“RAAAAHHHH!”

 

…Breaks the hold by grabbing onto the bottom rope! The crowd pops loudly, drawn into the match despite the two despised men inside the ring. Ordonez orders Lezaire to break the hold, but he keeps it on as long as possible

 

“ONE”

 

 

“TWO”

 

 

“THREE”

 

 

“FOUR”

 

Before breaking the hold and climbing back to a vertical base. The energy in the arena grows by the second, but Lezaire soon brings them back to earth as he grins like an idiot and waves to them, thinking they’ve finally come around. Lezaire sets to work on dismantling Duran’s leg once more, stomping away with glee as Duran attempts to get up, but the Notorious fires back in anger~, raking the eyes and causing the Canadian Hero to reel back in pain!

 

“Has Citizen Duran stooped to such desperate measures? Has this enemy of Justice fallen from such grace!?”

 

“Nonsense, you nylon ninny,” shoots Riley, glaring at his partner, “he’s doing what’s necessary to work his way back into the match, simple as that…”

 

Lezaire rubs his eyes, still seeing nothing but a blur as he turns back around to find his opponent. The Canadian Hero swings with a wild right hand punch that misses by a mile, allowing Duran to duck underneath and head behind Ace, locking him up with a Full Nelson. Duran lets Lezaire dangle for a few seconds, before linking his arms together and throwing Lezaire over his head with a Dragon Suplex!

 

… But no! Ace nimbly lands on two feet! Duran growls, hobbling slightly towards the cowardly Canadian, but is met with a snap jab that forces Duran’s head back! Another one stuns him, before Lezaire spins around, trying to land the knock out blow with a Discuss Punch, but The Notorious One telegraphs it and ducks underneath…

 

THWACK![/]b

 

… Before grabbing the Canadian by the throat!

 

“CHOKESLAM! The end is nigh, Comet; it’s all academic from here!” Riley bellows as Duran takes a handful of tights and lifts Lezaire up from the mat, leaving him to wriggle and writhe in mid-air in hopes of an escape. Duran is forced off balance by the Canadian’s desperate countering…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… But throws the Canadian down in time before falling to the mat! Duran grabs his leg, feeling a slight twinge as he lifted Lezaire from the mat, but knows he has to make a cover quickly, but he doesn’t notice one important fact as Ced Ordonez slides over to count

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRRRREEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO!

 

… The crowd looks shocked, wondering how the hell Lezaire kicked out. Duran’s piercing eyes meet Ced’s, but the experienced referee points to Lezaire’s hand holding onto the bottom rope!

 

“Duran didn’t get the same purchase on that move as he normally would,” Comet notes, “and he stumbled off balance, causing him to let go of Lezaire too close to the ropes, allowing Ace to stay in this match by the grace of god!”

 

The Notorious One forgets the tearing and severe pain shooting through is right leg as he climbs back to his feet, clapping his hands three times, and suggesting Ced do the same next time he counts. It makes no difference now, though, as Duran pulls the dazed and confused Lezaire to his feet, though his protests, dropping back down to the mat, his brains scrambled by that tremendous Chokeslam.

 

Duran finally pulls him to his feet and holds him firmly in place, taking Lezaire’s near arm and pulling it between his legs, then hooking his far arm and looking out amongst the fans as everyone in the entire arena cries

 

“RAAAAAAAHHH!”

 

“This is it, I told you Comet! Just a matter of time before Duran overwhelmed Lezaire, and he’s about to finish it with the BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA!”

 

“Though Citizen Duran is having an awfully tough time getting feeling in that right leg of his,” Comet replies, looking very skeptical as the Notorious One takes a deep breath, before heaving Lezaire in to the air slowly…

 

Duran looks to have it all wrapped up as he easily pulls Lezaire up from a Pump handle position using his great arm strength, but as he heaps Lezaire onto his shoulders, his leg buckles underneath him…

 

… And Lezaire skins the cat and somehow lands on his feet behind Duran! The Notorious One turns around, but Lezaire meets him with a kick to the midsection, doubling the former Champion over, and taking him around the head…

 

 

BAM!

 

 

Nailing him with the STUNNER! The crowd goes absolutely wild as Duran falls bounces off Ace’s shoulder and falls like a heap onto the canvas, truly stunned, and Lezaire pushes him onto his back, cradling him tightly as Ced Ordonez makes the count…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRRRREEEEEEE!

 

 

 

 

YES!

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Muse’s “Hyper Music” kicks up as the bell rings and Ace Lezaire slides out of the ring, Ced trying to catch him to raise his arm, but the pain all over his body forces him to escape up the ramp way as Funyon announces on the mic…

 

“Ladies and Gentleman, YOUR WINNER… ACE LEEEEZZZAAAIIIRRREEE!”

 

“He did it, he actually did it,” mutters Riley as he watches Ace celebrate in front of Steve’s camera, then gripping his ribs in pain. “He pinned John Duran… somehow. How did he do it, Comet?”

 

“He’s a cocky little cretin, but he worked that leg like a demon, just as he did with Ryan Dustin, and in the end it helped him come out victorious over John Duran!”

 

Lezaire disappears to the back as the fans finally realize that Ace has won, and boo the Canadian right out of the building! While this goes on, John Duran heaves himself up onto one knee, looking up at what might have been, realizing that he’s yet again taken one step forward, and two steps back.

 

“I can’t believe it,” utters Riley still. “Stay tuned to Storm for more…”

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

The lights in the arena cut briefly out, except the entrance ramp spotlights which turn royal purple and swing up to focus up to the SmarkTron. Crashing guitar chords sound out through out the arena.

 

"If dysfunction is a function... then I must be some kind of geeeeeniiiussss"

 

Across the SmarkTron a familiar logo appears, that of a white skull on a royal purple spade.

 

"I will return. Deal With It."

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

Suddenly, the marching bass line of the Jester’s Dance announces the arrival of the New World Champion. The mere sound of Danny’s music causes the fans to lose their minds. Making his grand appearance, the man of the hour steps out on to the platform, the most prestigious title in the land strapped proudly around his waist. Thousands of screaming Canadians welcome Danny Williams with deafening cheers that can be heard throughout the entire great white north.

 

“Dan-e! Dan-e! Dan-e!”

 

Making his way into the ring, Williams marches from corner to corner, taking the time to pose for each side of the arena. Accepting the mic from Funyon, Williams takes position in the center of the ring. Having just did this a few weeks ago, Danny looks to be much more comfortable than he did the first time.

 

“Two weeks ago, Kibagami fought the match of his life. In just a few short days, the title I had worked so hard to obtain had been snatched from me like that. I failed to be “the man” that this company needed, losing the title in just my first defense. “, Williams pauses as if he’s searching for the right words,” Well I’m here tonight to promise you that I will never let you down again.”

 

The fans come to life with a brief applause.

 

“I will not be remembered as a three time Champion who couldn’t defend the belt once. I here to stay! I know that there are guys lining up right now to take their shot, and I’m ready to knock everyone single of them back in their place!”, snarls Williams in defiance.

 

“Janus! We were once friends, stable mates, partners but when you step into this ring with me, you try take my title, all that goes out the window. Once the opening bell rings, former friend or not you’ll be my worst enemy. Remember, I’ve knocked his ass out once and I’ll do it again!”

 

With that Williams slams down the mic, and makes his exit. The fans are hyped, not only for the show but for what will no doubt be a grueling World Title match in the near future.

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

What is this? This is SWF Storm, baby!

 

Many different shades of pyro EXPLODE as the Smarks Wresting Federation returns to the airwaves, and the twenty-thousand-plus fans in the sold out Rexal Place in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada go completely rabid!

 

“Welcome back to SWF Storm, citizens!” Cyclone Comet greets, “we’ve already seen some great action tonight, including everyone’s SECOND favorite superhero, David Blazenwing, as well as former World Champion John Duran facing off against Ace Lezaire.”

 

“Cut the crap, Comet, I think we ALL know what everyone here in Edmonton came to see tonight,” Riley begins.

 

“The No Gravity Cruiserweight Championship match between Todd Cortez and champion Johnny Dangerous?” Comet asks.

 

Riley sighs, “Thanks, but no thanks. Tonight, we see match three of the best-of-five series between Tom Flesher and Dace Night, where Flesher can win his second match in a row and prove that Dace’s win in the first match was a fluke.”

 

“But of course, Bobbo. Anyway, citizens, we are now going to be treated to an unannounced, surprise tryout match here on SWF Storm!”

 

“…don’t they usually keep these things OFF of TV?” Riley rolls his eyes, “I mean, really.”

 

Comet ignores Riley, “This hopeful competitor wrestles under the guise of The Masked Man. Bobbo, I’ve seen some of this man’s escapades, and I have a feeling you’ll enjoy him. As a matter of fact, he was trained by Judge Mental!”

 

“…really? Well, I guess I’ll have to give this guy a once-over,” Riley replies, half-sarcastically.

 

“You might owe him more than that after you hear his nickname.”

 

“…what is it?”

 

Comet gives a dramatic pause, before proclaiming, “THE SEX - UAL MASK - O - SAURUS!”

 

A beat, and then-

 

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” Funyon interrupts the duo from the ring, “the following contest is scheduled for ONE fall, with the winner receiving a full SWF contract! Now, introducing the participants!”

 

As soon as the last word leaves Funyon’s mouth, the house lights go into insane strobe mode, and “Misirlou” rocks the Edmonton speakers! The crowd gives an initial pop to the entrance, if only because they recognize the music from the opening credit sequence in “Pulp Fiction”. However, out from the curtain emerges a man wearing a full black tuxedo and a black wrestling mask, with a briefcase in one of his free hands. The fans…well, the fans give a very mixed, very uninterested reaction to the new superstar.

 

“The first contestant hails from Craiova, Romania, but currently resides in Orofino, Idaho,” Funyon continues, “weighing in at 243 pounds, he is THE MAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSKED MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!”

 

The Masked Man continues his cool walk to the ring, straightening his tie as he reaches the ringside area. Once there, he places the MYSTERIOUS~ briefcase against the ring steps and jogs up the stairs, leapfrogging over the top rope and into the ring. After doing a few athletic jumps, TMM climbs up to the second rope of the nearest turnbuckle and removes his sports jacket, throwing it on the ground revealing his dress shirt with torn sleeves, showcasing his relatively-ripped physique.

 

“And his opponent…” Funyon begins.

 

“The…the…brain busta…the brain busta!” The crowd goes completely apathetic as from behind the curtain in the Rexal Place walks the SJL’s finest superstar to never become a superstar, JT Playa, accompanied by a bevy of Edmonton beauties (but then again, this is where Scott Keith lives…does such a thing exist?).

 

“From Harlem, New York, weighing in at 227 pounds, this is JAYYYYYYYYY TEEEEEEEE PLAAAAAAAAYAAAAAAA!”

 

JT skips to his Lou down to the ringside area, where he slides under the bottom rope into the ring. He sheds his clothing to reveal his ring attire, and referee Ced Ordonez checks with both men before calling for the bell, signaling the beginning of the match!

 

*DING DING DING*

 

“This should be a…most interesting match,” Comet begins, “Masked Man, prior to this SWF tryout match, worked as both a painter and as an abortionist. JT Playa, meanwhile, worked at Boston Pizza.”

 

“Well, if Masked Man was trained by Judge Mental,” Riley adds, “I expect this one to be over quick. Judge may be my favorite wrestler, after Tom Flesher, and if any of his wrestling skills rubbed off on Masked Man, we’re in for a treat.”

 

Both men circle each other, before initiating a collar-elbow tie-up. With his strength and size advantage, Masked Man is easily able to push JT into the nearest corner. At the urging of referee Ordonez, TMM cleanly breaks from the tie-up, but turns around to gloat to the Edmonton fans. They’re none-too-receptive, but there’s no denying that on this night, the Masked Man looks SNAZZY~. Masked Fury turns back around to JT Playa, but the quicker Playa runs past Masked Man, towards the ropes! JT hits the ropes and rebounds, charging at TMM with all of his speed. However, TMM sees JT approaching him and drops to his knees, using JT’s momentum to flip him over his shoulders and onto his back with a fireman’s carry! Both men immediately get to their feet, but Masked Man uses his smarts and JT’s momentum to quickly lock arms with his opponent and flip him over with an armdrag! Playa gets to his feet again, but backs against a corner. The Sexual Maskosaurus follows him in, though, and quickly shoots his leg up, sending a hard kick into JT’s midsection! And another! Masked Man then takes a step back, before extending his leg high enough to connect with a big kick to the side of JT’s head! Playa stumbles out of the corner, allowing Masked Man to leap into the air and swing his leg around, this time connecting with an enzuiguri that sends JT to the mat! Masked Man drops down on JT, covering him for the first pin of the match as Ced counts.

 

ONE!

 

 

TW - NO! JT kicks out before Ced can even administer a two count.

 

“You can certainly see shades of Judge Mental in Masked Man’s work,” Comet points out, “his style is very deliberate and very focused.”

 

“I’m still confused over JT Playa,” Riley says, “I mean, his entrance theme was called ‘Brain Busta’, correct? Does he even use a brainbuster?”

 

“I don’t think so, Bobbo.”

 

“Kids these days.”

 

Masked Fury brings JT Playa back up to his feet, and traps him in a front facelock. With the hold applied, TMM grabs JT by the tights and hoists him up into the air vertically…but no! JT shifts his weight and drops down on his feet behind the Masked Man! TMM quickly spins around, only to eat a right hook by JT! A left jab, and then a swift kick to the midsection! JT swiftly takes a hold of Masked Man’s head, and proceeds to spin him around, dropping down with a neckbreaker!

 

“J – T – PLAY – A!” *clap – clap – clap-clap-clap*

 

“J – T – PLAY – A!” *clap – clap – clap-clap-clap*

 

The fans are ROARING and SCREAMING and CHEERING for JT Playa. Sadly…it’s only in his head. The actual fans in the Rexal Place, well, sit on their hands as JT picks Masked Man up, wrestling him into a waistlock! But no! Masked Man does a standing switch, reversing into a waistlock of his own! However JT has street smarts, and he knows that when suckas grab gangstas from behind, suckas get backhanded. So, Masked Man gets backhanded, and JT turns around, kicking the Sexual Maskosaurus in the midsection! Showcasing his diverse moveset, Playa runs to the ropes, bounces back, and grabs Masked Man’s head for another neckbreaker…but JT loses his footing, falling right onto his back!

 

“Did you say Masked Man used to be an abortionist?” Riley asks Comet.

 

“I did,” replies Comet, “and by the looks of things, I don’t think he’ll ever have to go back to being an abortionist. He seems to be in control here.”

 

“No, I asked about that because…well, abortionist? Why doesn’t he just call himself a pro-choicinist?”

 

“Bobbo, when I say ‘abortionist’, I mean that he practiced abortions.”

 

“…I have new respect for this man.”

 

After Playa’s slipup, Masked Man brings him to his feet, firing off a punch! And three more! TMM then hops a foot back, and begins stomping his foot on the mat, as if signaling for a superkick! However, instead of shooting his leg forward, Masked Man LEAPS forward, driving a jumping forearm smash into JT’s head, sending him into the turnbuckle! Masked Man quickly walks over to the turnbuckle and pulls JT out of it, before climbing up to the second rope and sitting himself on the top rope. He traps Playa in a front facelock, before leaping off the ropes and spinning around, spiking JT’s head into the mat with a Tornado DDT!

 

“Would you look at that move?!” Comet cries, “do you know what he calls that, Bobbo? He calls that the Cyclone Complex! I think I’m in love with that name!”

 

“Yes, because I’m sure he named the move after you,” Riley sighs, “grow a set, will you, Comet? There’s a fine line between being a fan and being an obsessive, frightening stalker.”

 

“Bobbo, it’s Tom Flesher!”

 

“WHERE?”

 

The Sexual Maskosaurus floats over into a cover, pressing down hard against the Playa (but not in a gay way, not that there’s anything wrong with that) as referee Ordonez counts!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

AND A KICKOUT!

 

Masked Fury quickly gets up and takes JT by the head, bringing him up…no, it seems as though JT has developed a firm grip on Masked Man’s shin! In fact, he pulls his head back…and drives a headbutt into TMM’s knee!

 

“Who did that hurt more?” Riley asks.

 

Nevertheless, it throws Masked Man off of his game, as Playa is able to get to his feet! He throws a punch at TMM…wait, forget that ‘off of his game’ thing. Masked Man easily catches the arm and shoves JT Playa back, into the ropes! JT uses the ropes as a momentum builder, charging towards the abortionist! Masked Fury swings his arm with a clothesline, but JT ducks! He runs towards the opposite ropes, coming back at TMM with a kick-

 

-but he can’t seem to kick, as his leg can’t seem to leave the canvas. Thusly, a punch will do. He swings, but no, with the speed of light on his side, Sexual Maskosaurus ducks under JT’s arm, palms his hand over JT’s face, and sweeps his leg out, DRIVING him to the canvas with a reverse half-nelson STO that he calls the Maski Pad!

 

“That’s Judge Mental’s Closing Arguments!” Comet cries, “Masked Man is on a roll!”

 

“Speaking of ‘roll’,” Riley begins, “have you heard the one about the dead baby rolling down a hill?”

 

The Edmonton crowd ‘ooohs’ at the move, but Masked Man wastes no time in bringing JT right up to his feet; he’s ready to end this match and run from the cops while he still has time! He traps JT in a front facelock and grabs him by the tights, hoisting him into the air upside down vertically! He holds him there for a second, whispering a few ‘goodbyes’ to our favorite Playa before falling down on his stomach, slamming JT right down ON HIS HEAD with the fall-forward brainbuster known as the CAUTIONARY TALE OF SEXUAL MASKOSAURUS!

 

“THAT’LL PUT MARZIPAN IN YOUR PIE PLATE, BINGO!” Comet cries.

 

Masked Man floats over on top of the unmoving corpse of JT Playa, as Ced Ordonez enthusiastically counts!

 

ONE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

*DING DING DING*

 

“That was rather fast and uneventful,” Riley points out, “but I liked it. I think JT Playa’s dead, but no big loss there.”

 

“So, Masked Man has an SWF contract,” Comet begins, “let’s hope he isn’t chased by the po-pos everywhere he goes!” Comet gives a hearty laugh.

 

“I hate you,” Riley says.

 

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” Funyon bellows, “YOUR WINNER, AND NEWEST SMARKS WRESTLING FEDERATION SUPERSTAR, THE MAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSKED MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!”

 

Masked Man rolls off of JT, sees his unmoving corpse, and gets the hell out of Dodge. He slides under the ropes, grabs his briefcase, and charges up the ramp, towards the backstage area.

 

“I think he very truly may be dead!” Comet says, not unenthusiastically, “but never fear, citizens! Up next, we’ve got a scintillating tag team match pitting Insane Luchador and Austin Sly against Crow and Ryan Dustin! Don’t miss it!”

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

The commercial break comes to the end and we hear a crowd clearing chanting.

 

“CROW!”

 

“CROW!”

 

“CROW!”

 

“CROW!”

 

...

 

“The following tag team match up is scheduled for one fall!” bellows Funyon, bringing us back to SWF Storm, live, from the Rexal Place in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, stopping Bobby from saying anything inane for the moment.

 

The lights go out and a few fans rise up in anticipation. A lot of wrestlers enter like this, but the true SWF fateful know who’s coming. "Schism" by Tool slowly begins to fill the arena, a fray light blue and dark red lights begin to flash everywhere. Suddenly, showering down from the Smarktron is a waterfall of black and red sparks that completely coat the entrance…

 

”I know the pieces fit

Because I watch them fall away”

 

A few moments past, until the Insane Luchador walks out through the shower of pyrotechnics, smirking as he begins to walk down the aisle...but that smirk disappears and is replaced by a frighteningly sadistic look as he sees the camera pointed on him. The showering of pyrotechnic display ends moments later, as IL continues his walk.

 

”First, making his way to the ring—from Easton, Pennsylvania, weighing in at two hundred one pounds, he is the INSAAAAANEEE LUUUUUCHHHAAADOOOORRRRRR!!!”

 

“CYCLOOOOOOOOONE Comet here fans, alongside Robert Riley, as the Insane Luchador makes his way to ringside. This is an odd couple tag match of sorts, but I’m sure it’ll be very… interesting to say the least.”

 

“And his partner,” adds Funyon, as suddenly the arena is covered in a cool blue hue as the sounds of an acoustic guitar – strumming a rather forceful riff – flows from the massive speakers, while boos rain down from the crowd! The song continues slowly growing louder and louder. All the while, the lights flicker, and seemingly, they grow more violent by the minute, pulsing in perfect time with the music…

 

*BOOOOOM!!*

 

Explosions rock the front of the stage, and as the smoke starts fanning off the ramp, Austin Sly strolls out onto the stage just as cockily as one could imagine! He pantomimes a title belt around his waist with a snicker, and struts down the ramp.

 

“From St. Louis Missouri, and weighing in at two hundred thirty pounds, this is… AUUSTIIIIIIIIN SLY!!!”

 

Sly and IL enter the ring, neither man pleased with the other, as they shoot contempt filled gazes back and forth. “Clearly these two are not on the best of terms, eh Comet?” mocks Riley as Sly’s music fades…

 

“Clearly, that’s why this will be… interesting. And while these two have had numerous battles in the past, our next team has just recently met.”

 

The house lights drop, causing a small mummer to escape from the crowd. The low key, but upbeat beginning of “Lapdance” by N.E.R.D. starts to fill the arena. The Smarktron flickers to life – a lone figure stands, laid-back, on screen; back to the crowd showing off a distinct R&D insignia. Brilliant strobes of white, yellow, blue and red, flash about the arena, bathing the crowd in a multi-coloured hue in time with the beat, whose moderate base line begins to kick up, until, the vocals drop...

 

”I'm an Ouuuuut-law!”

 

Suddenly, a bullet flies through the picture, causing the image to shatter like glass. A single spotlight flashes across the stage, waving back and forth in time with the hip-hop beat...

 

”Quick on the draw -- Quick on the draw,

Something you never seen before -- never seen...”

 

Centering on a lone spot...

 

”And I dare a muthafucker to come in my face...”

 

And as N.E.R.D’S ‘Lap-dance’ continues, it draws Ryan Dustin to the stage, through the curtain, facing the crowd – arms folded across his chest – while in a casual lean; his red camo jacket fluttering from an unknown undercurrent. After a pause, Dustin stands on the ramp, nodding his head, as his music fades into the background.

 

”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.

 

”Hear me now!

Words I vow!

No fucking regrets!”

 

Crow drops his arms and turns around to face the crowd. With a cigarette in his mouth, he slashes his trademark zippo lighter back and forth, across his pants.

 

”Fuck these chains!

No god damn slave!

I will be different!”

 

The Antichristian Phenomenon lights the cigarette in his mouth and then he and Dustin proceed down the stage. The crowd cheers wildly as flames rise up in the background, while he and his partner get to the bottom of the ramp.

 

"Making there way to ringside—weighing in tonight at a combined weight of four hundred and fifty-eight pounds, they are the Real Deal and Antichrist Superstar... RYAN DUSTIN and CROW!" announces Funyon, while Dustin slaps hands with a few fans.

 

”I'll stand here defiantly!

My middle finger raised!

Fuck your prejudice!”

 

Crow strides up the steel steps and enters the ring. He walks over to his corner and sits down, smoking, while Dustin reaches the ring, climbing up the outside of the turnbuckle. He poses once again, sizing up a few members of the crowd on the opposite side of the ring, by placing his hands in the form of a 'picture frame' again…

 

...before back flipping into the ring, giving the fans a little flourish for their buck. The crowd responds to that with a sizable pop, as Ryan discards his jacket and glasses, then stands at the ready in his corner, speaking briefly with the bird.

 

“It looks as though IL and that damn bird will start,” notes Riley, as Dustin slides through the ropes and Austin Sly leaves the ring, after a short yelling match with his partner.

 

*DING—DING—DING!!!*

 

“Referee, Billy Choida signals for the bell and this tag team match is underway,” says Comet, as Crow and the Insane Luchador, Alan Rickmen, turn the circle. “In their last meeting these two took hardcore to a new level, and one can only hope that they’ll be able to contain themselves in this non-hardcore environment.”

 

The Antichrist Superstar reaches out; signalling for a tie-up, which Rickmen accepts, bulling forward in an attempt to overpower the bird! But Crow will have none of that and changes the advantage back into his favour, by sheer strength. Crow and IL twist and turn in the collar and elbow, clearly not too fond of one another, until the bird makes his opponent hit the neutral corner back first. They release the tie-up and IL strikes quickly with a peppering right-hand! He quickly grabs the bird by the head and neck, swinging him into the corner he once occupied! IL swings away, connecting with another strike to the face, but the Antichrist superstar shakes it off and tosses him back into the corner! Crow strikes back—

 

*Smack!*

 

—with a LOUD and DEADLY knife-edge chop! Luchador cringes and absorbs the blow, but Crow isn’t done as he rears back—

 

*Smack!*

 

*SMACK!*

 

*SMACK!*

 

—and follows up with multiple blood vessel bursting knife-edge chops!!! The crowd and even Cyclone Comet “oooh” in sympathy, as Crow presses his advantage with a cross-corner whip!

 

“By Zeus, Robert—those were some thunderbolt-like chops from super-citizen Crow!”

 

IL hits the buckles hard and Crow follows him in, clotheslining the ever-lovin’ crap out of the insane one! Rickmen slumps, as the bird grabs him by the neck, like a dog on a leash and drags him to the center of the ring! Crow snaps IL up straight and wraps an arm around his head, leaning forward briefly, only to power him back down to the mat in a side Russian leg sweep!

 

“Crow clearly dominating the action so far, Robert,” notes Comet, as Crow bounces off the near ropes and sits-out in a running leg drop! The bird picks up the intensity, standing up quickly and gaining some more steam, before sliding into another hard leg drop, across IL’s face!

 

“Come on Rickmen! Pull yourself together man!” shouts Riley, while Crow takes a second to think about his next attack, pulling IL up again by the hair this time. IL on the other hand, knows exactly what he’s going to do; catching Crow flush with a right to the gut! The bird doubles over and IL goes on the offensive, pushing him into a front face lock!

 

“That’s better, IL. Plant the goddamn bird on his face with the evenflow!” yells Bobby.

 

Rickmen stands ready to hit his finishing DDT!

 

...

 

NO!

 

Crow quickly spears forward, pushing Rickmen into a neutral corner. IL gets crushed between the buckles and his opponent, and he also doesn’t get much time to think as the bird powers him up...

 

...and overhead in a northern lights suplex! He holds the bridge for the pin!

 

“Northern lights suplex and a bridge by super-citizen Crow!”

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

T—No!

 

 

The Insane Luchador is way too strong a competitor to go down to that move! IL raises a shoulder off the canvas, breaking the bridge. In his corner, IL’s partner Austin Sly can be seen shaking his head at IL’s attempts to get back into the match, saying, “Just tag me in already!” Both men get to their feet, but Crow stays in control, pulling IL into a face lock and then dragging him towards his partner, Ryan Dustin.

 

Crow reaches out and slaps hands with the Real Deal, who enters the ring – to a nice cheer - and plasters IL with a kick to the rib cage! The bird releases his headlock and Ryan takes control, pulling Rickmen’s bowed head forward—

 

*THWAP!*

 

—directly into a European uppercut! Ryan splats IL with a second forearm uppercut and pushes his dazed opponent into the ropes for an Irish whip! Dustin stands prepped in the middle of the ring, waiting for his opponent to rebound, and when this happens he uses the momentum and spins him up into the air – looking a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker! However, Rickmen utilises his amazing dexterity to swing around, captures Ryan’s head between his legs, and swings him around with a sensational head-scissors reversal!

 

“Wow!”

 

“Superhero like agility from Citizen Rickmen there, catching his opponent off guard!” exclaims an impressed superhero.

 

Ryan Dustin rolls a few times on the canvas and through reflex quickly jumps up, but Insane Luchador is already there and nails a toe kick to the stomach! The Real Deal doubles over and is helpless to escape the front face lock applied. IL heaves Dustin up and into the air and slams him down with a quick snap suplex! The Insane Luchador jumps up towards the ropes, rising onto them and springing off with a splash!

 

...

 

NO!

 

Dustin rolls out of the way and avoids getting splashed! IL eats canvas and is winded for a few moments, but resilience is his middle name so he leaps back up to keep fighting. Dustin is ready though, and jumps into the air, throwing his leg outward...

 

*CRACK!*

 

...and nailing a ferocious jumping side kick! Rickmen is rocked by the kick and flies backward into the ropes, prompting Dustin to come and crack him in the FUCKING FACE with a shotei!

 

“Oooooooooooh!”

 

Insane Luchador’s head flies backwards and continues to do so as Ryan decides to unleash the fury with a copious amount of left and right arm punches. Stopping his assault, he latches onto an arm and launches his opponent across the ring! No! Rickmen reverses and sends Dustin into the ropes! Austin Sly sees an opportunity to make his presence felt...

 

“Booooooo!”

 

...and nails Dustin in the back with a hard knee whilst stretching the tag ropes to their fullest length!

 

“How sly,” giggles Bobby Riley as Cyclone Comet shakes his head in disgust at the cowardly heel tactic.

 

The Real Deal rebounds off the ropes, stumbling, clutching at his back and slightly hunched forward. Insane Luchador doesn’t look too pleased but takes his opponent take with a very strong clothesline! Insane Luchador tells Austin Sly...

 

“Don’t interfere in my fucking match!”

 

This subsequently saves Dustin from a pin attempt and allows him to collect his thoughts. While IL continues to get in Austin’s face, he pushes himself to his hands and knees and eventually to a standing base. Looking to take advantage of the situation, Ryan moves forward, wraps his arms around Rickmen’s waist and HEAVES HIM OVERHEAD WITH A BEAUTIFUL RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX!

 

“YYYAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Amazing! Ryan Dustin showing us that he possesses superhero strength!”

 

“That’s not superhero strength, Comet,” belittles Riley.

 

But Cyclone Comet rebuts, “He threw him halfway across the ring! Open your eyes, Bobby!”

 

The Insane Luchador lands brutally on his neck/shoulders and slumps backward over himself. The crowd cheers wildly as Dustin throws his arms up in the air in celebration! Austin spits abuse at his partner and laughs along with Crow on the other side of the ring. The Real Deal now jumps on top for a pin attempt.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

NO!

 

 

IL kicks out and sticks him thumb into his opponent’s eye – eliciting a cry of pain! Dustin jumps up and rubs his eye, allowing the Insane Luchador to throw his arm up and crack him in the family jewels! Ryan’s eyes pop out and his hands fly down immediately to clutch at his testicles. Referee Choida admonishes IL, but of course, he ignores this and keeps his focus on Dustin. He applies a front face lock, grabs the belt and lifts his opponent into the air...

 

...

 

AND DROPS HIM ON HIS HEAD WITH A BRAINBUSTER!

 

“Devastating,” is all Cyclone Comet can muster after witnessing that move.

 

“And effective, Dustin’s neck suffered a bit in his previous match.”

 

Rickmen doesn’t go for the pin though, instead he goes to the corner, where Austin just happens to be standing near, and climbs to the top rope. Up there, IL signals for the end via the good ol’ throat slitting taunt!

 

*SLAP!*

 

The referee claps his hands together - a tag has been made! Rickmen cocks his head down at Austin, who smirks before pushing his partner’s legs out, thusly crotching him on the turnbuckle! IL bellows in pain as Austin steps through the ropes into the ring. Prior to continuing to work his opponent, Sly turns around and gives IL the finger...and you’ve never seen someone look so angry. Ryan Dustin is sore and looks to get out of the ring, slowly making his way to his partner... but no! Sly comes from behind with a yakuza kick to the back of Dustin’s neck just as he takes a step forward! This sends Dustin straight to the ground!

 

“Smart play from Austin Sly, targeting the area that was aggravated in Dustin’s last match by a Blunt Force Trauma from John Duran,” notes Riley, providing us with a glimpse of his intelligence.

 

Austin says “Fuck you” to the Antichrist Superstar before bending over and picking up Ryan Dustin. From here, he applies a front face lock, swings his body around and falls to the canvas – snapping Dustin’s neck across his shoulder! Austin drops to get the pin.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWNOO! The pin is stopped by the Antichrist Superstar! He gets hassled back to the apron by Referee Mike Choida and admonished heavily for not holding on to the tag ropes. The momentary distraction allows Austin Sly to pull something out his pocket and apply them to his fists...

 

“That’s vile!” shrieks Cyclone Comet, “He’s got brass knucks on! Referee Billy pay attention to what’s going on in the ring!”

 

Hastily, Austin picks his opponent up and throws him into the ropes. Dustin rebounds and feels the wrath of the brass knucks against his neck! “Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” he screams in agony. He drops to his knees, only to feel the brass knucks against his neck... again and again! Austin removes the knucks and throws them outside just before Choida turns around to do his fucking job. Crow is absolutely furious with what’s happening and starts to spew abuse at the ref and Austin. Austin simply laughs and drops down to pin Dustin.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

“Citizen Dustin kicks out at the last minute, his neck is obviously creating trouble for him,” commentates Comet.

 

“Pft,” begins Riley, “He’s just a cry baby who wants his alcohol bottle.”

 

Crow starts to rally the troops by stomping the apron with his feet and clapping his hands together. He now starts chanting...

 

“DUSTIN!”

 

*DUNDUNDUN!*

 

“DUSTIN!”

 

*DUNDUNDUN!*

 

“DUSTIN!”

 

*DUNDUNDUN!*

 

“DUSTIN!”

 

*DUNDUNDUN!*

 

Austin Sly wrenches his opponent up and mockingly slaps his across the face. He laughs and does it again. But then, he does it one too many times...

 

*CRACK!*

 

Dustin fights back with a right hand! Austin is taken back1 Dustin with a left! A right! A left! And a kick to the stomach! Austin stumbles back into his corner where he’s slapped in the back of the head by his “partner” Insane Luchadore.

 

*CLAP!*

 

The referee allows the tag and IL jumps into the ring! Realising that this is not the best idea considering his current condition, Ryan Dustin turns around and makes a leap towards the outstretched hand of his partner, Crow! Insane Luchadore starts to make chase to stop him but...

 

*CLAP!*

 

...it’s too late and the tag is allowed! Crow ascends to the top rope, jumps off with his leg outstretched... and nails IL with a flying Wunder kick! Dustin takes a moment to rest his sore neck while Crow runs over to Austin Sly, applies a front waistlock, and pivots on his feet... AND SLAMS HIM INTO THE CANVAS WITH A ROLLING BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX!

 

“Crow is cleaning house!”

 

The Gothic Warrior jumps to his feet and spreads his wings, much to the crowd’s delight, prior to wrenching IL to a standing base and throwing him to the outside! Crow approaches the ropes, and tentatively taps his fingers against them... waiting for his prey to stand back up. Meanwhile, Ryan Dustin stands back and hunches down... waiting for Austin Sly to get back to a vertical base...

 

...

 

At the same time do Austin Sly and Insane Luchador get up.

 

And at the same do Ryan Dustin and Crow do what they have planned.

 

THE REAL DEAL CHARGES AT SLY, LOOKING FOR THE SPEAR... NOOOO! AUSTIN MOVES OUT OF THE WAY AND DUSTIN CRASHES INTO THE RINGPOST!

 

THE ANTICHRIST SUPERSTAR JUMPS ON TO THE TOP TOPE, LAUNCHES OFF AND WRAPS HIS LEGS AROUND IL’S HEAD – SWINGING HIM AROUND AND NAILING A HURRACANRANA!!!

 

“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”

 

“And this match has broken down!”

 

“The shit has hit the fan, Comet! The referee can’t control this match anymore, it’s up top the wrestlers to decide what happens!”

 

Crow is the first man to get up on the outside, quickly jumps up onto the commentary table and braces himself, again waiting for IL to rise. Meanwhile, both men in the ring are down... but slowly getting back up. However, at the stage, there’s a din... and the crowd begins to cheer loudly when they see who it is!

 

“IT’S JESSICA!’ scream both Comet and Robert.

 

“What the hell is Jessica doing out here, Comet?” asks Bobby as Crow jumps off the commentary table and dropkicks the Insane Luchador into the steel steps!

 

Cyclone Comet shrugs and says, “My superhero ability to read one’s thoughts has been strenuously abused today as I am unable to understand Jessica’s motivation!”

 

“...I doubt you are a superhero...”

 

“Blasphemy!” shouts Comet as he leaps onto the table, “How dare you insinuate such a thing!? I blame this once in a lifetime inability on the unbalanced female psyche!” A stagehand behind him turns on a fan to blow around the cape, just to further accentuate his superhero-ness.

 

“Sit down, you imbecile. Call the damn match.”

 

Austin Sly and the Real Deal exchange punches inside the ring! It’s an even battle right up until Austin backhands his opponent across the face, pivots on one foot and connects with a devastating kick to the head! Ryan Dustin stumbles sideways, obviously in a world of stars, and is in a world of hurt as Austin grabs a hold of his head, swings it around and slams it to the canvas with a picture perfect swinging neckbreaker! Meanwhile on the outside, Crow runs over to his girlfriend Jessica and yells at her.

 

“What the hell are you doing out here!? I told you, I fucking told you to stay in the back!”

 

Unfortunate for him, Crow doesn’t have enough time to put her back in her place and make her run to the back. Instead, inside the ring, Austin Sly sees what’s happening, so, he bounces off the ropes, runs across the ring...

 

...AND JUMPS OVER THE TOP ROPE, FLIPPING FORWARD AND SOMERSAULT SENTONING INTO THE ANTICHRIST SUPERSTAR!

 

“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”

 

“A somersault senton from Austin Sly!? Well, spank my ass and call me Charlie, I never, ever thought I’d see that from such a technical marvel like him,” comments Bobby Riley.

 

“You are obviously not well learned in Citizen Austin’s history, Robert, he’s actually a very capable high flyer.”

 

Both men crash into the thinly protected floor of the aisle and lie motionless for a few moments. Jessica has her hands over mouth in shock as she approaches her fallen man. She bends down and tries to wake him up...

 

“...go.... GO NOW!” yells Crow as writhes in pain on the floor. Knowing that it was stupid for her to come out here in the first place, she does exactly what her boyfriend says.

 

...

 

Well, she would if Austin Sly wasn’t standing in her way. She tries to push past him, but grabs her by the forehead and THROWS her in the ground! Jessica cries out in pain and she crawls away as the large frame of Sly approaches her... with a face of hatred. Jessica crawls onto his feet and starts to run away. Austin begins chase and chases her around the ring! Jess runs for her life and passes the commentary tables, prompting Comet to yell out something along the lines of “RUN, DEAR, HE’S A VILLAIN!” Austin is not far behind her and passes the commentary tables as well...

 

...

 

ONLY TO BE TAKEN OUT BY A BRUTALLY STIFF, FUCKING INJURIOUS SUPER KICK FROM THE INSANE LUCHADOR!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!”

 

“What the hell!?” screams Bobby, “He’s on your team, you idiot! What are you doing!?”

 

Cyclone Comet knows the score, “He’s showing that while he may be villainous, he still has an ounce of valour left in his body! Citizen Rickmen saved an innocent woman from getting hurt, an honourable act!”

 

“But they’re a team! You don’t turn on your partners!”

 

“Haven’t you been watching the match, Robert? They’re not much of a team...”

 

Andrew Rickmen stands up, looks at Jessica and asks, “Are you ok?” as the Antichrist Superstar stands up in the aisle. To his horror he sees Jessica lunge forward and wrap her arms around the Insane Luchador. This stuns Rickmen, but then he notices Crow watching from afar... and reciprocates.

 

“Oh my! Citizen Jessica is embracing Citizen Rickmen!” shouts a surprised superhero, “...and would you have a look at the face of the Antichrist Superstar! He’s furious!”

 

Crow is fuming and scowls in rage before running over there and CRACKING INSANE LUCHADOR WITH A BIG RIGHT HAND! Rickmen is rocked backward by the blow, but he’s not going to get solace anytime as the Gothic Warrior throws his leg up and connects with the face! The Insane Luchador falls to the floor while Crow looks to continue his assault... but the hand of his girlfriend stops him and turns him around. Jessica pleads with the Gothic Warrior that IL saved her from getting hurt by the still down Austin Sly. Crow will hear none of this however and physically pushes her away. Jessica falls onto her bottom and looks absolutely shocked as her boyfriend picks up Insane Luchador and chucks him into the ring. In the ring, The Real Deal bends over and wrenches his opponent back to his feet... before unloading a brutal shotei strike to IL’s chest! Rickmen is winded by the strike but that’s the least of his problems as Dustin pivots and CONNECTS WITH A KICK TO THE KNEE!

 

The Insane Luchador drops to one knee... and this doesn’t bode well at all. Crow is now in the ring with Ryan Dustin... and they have something in mind for their opponent. They both get a run up, Crow behind IL and Dustin in front of IL.

 

...

 

AND THEY CHARGE!

 

Ryan Dustin leaps up onto the Rickmen’s knee and CRASHES HIS KNEE INTO IL’S FACE WHILE CROW JUMPS INTO THE AIR AND WUNDER KICKS IL IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”

 

“Good gosh almighty! Super-citizen Crow and Citizen Dustin just crushed IL’s head in between their legs!”

 

“It’s alright though as Austin Sly is up!”

 

...but he’s not going to save his tag partner... his partner did fucking super kick him in the face. So, Austin makes the conscience to walk away.

 

Cyclone Comet notices this, “I don’t think he’s going to help Citizen Rickmen, Robert, I think he’s hanging up his boots for the night.”

 

Bobby Riley’s face progressively turns down upon the realisation that Sly is now walking up the aisle towards the back. In the ring, Crow and Dustin have a small conversation and then crack their knuckles together in symbolism of a partnership... and for IL, this means that the end is near. “The Real Deal” Ryan Dustin ascends a turnbuckle while Crow carefully places the lifeless body of Insane Luchador in the center of the ring... and then goes to the opposite corner. Both men are up top and the crowd is cheering wildly and they simultaneously motion the throat slit.

 

“YYYYAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

AND RYAN DUSTIN JUMPS OFF THE TURNBUCKLE! HE FORWARD FLIPS FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY DEGREES AND... NAILS THE STARDUSTIN’ PRESS!

 

...

 

Dustin jumps off the body and calls for his partner’s turn! The crowd cheers even more wildly as Crow turns around to face the crowd and spreads his wings!

 

THE ANTICHRIST SUPERSTAR JUMPS OFF, BACK FLIPPING TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY DEGRESS AND NAILS THE EVENFLOW MOONSAULT!

 

CROW STAYS ON FOR THE PIN!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

*DINGDINGDING!*

 

“YYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“And the winners of this contest, as a result of a pinfall... the team of ‘The Real Deal’ Ryan Dustin and ‘The Antichrist Superstar’ Crrrrroooooowwwwww!” bellows Funyon from the timekeeper’s table.

 

Dustin helps his partner up and they shake each other’s hands, as a sign of friendship, partnership and most important of all, RESPECT. On the outside, stands Jessica... looking in at her man. Her face is pure torture for all the other men in the house... sadness and disbelief over what her boyfriend just did. Crow looks outside and sees his girlfriend... she shakes her head and walks off. The Antichrist Superstar watches her walk all the way to the back, not once yelling or trying to stop her. Dustin pats him on the back and the two celebrate their victory with a cigarette and a couple brews.

 

“Well Robert, it looks like there might be trouble in paradise between Crow and Jessica,” states Comet with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Who cares, Comet?” mocks Riley, “Certainly not I... I’m more concerned with the lack of team work between Austin Sly and Insane Luchador. They’ll never work in the tag division if they stay like.”

 

Cyclone has to restrain himself from strangling Bobby, “For the final time, Robert... they are not a tag team, they have issues with each other... in fact, they’ve wrestled three or four times.”

 

“Ooooooooh, I get it now!” exclaims Riley, “...well, which idiot put them together in this match?”

 

“Your employer.”

 

“Oh shit. Uh... I meant what GENIUS put it together. Uh yeah...” Riley breathes a sigh of relief before continuing, “Anyway... there was some decent wrestling in this match.”

 

“Indeed there was, Robert, indeed there was. Stay tuned fans, as we have more action coming to you after the break!”

 

---

 

A Match Of ‘Crowdust’. ©

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

COMMERCIAL BREAK!

 

 

“My name is Terrence Bailey.”

 

The voice is deep and Australian. The camera shot shows a close up of a face framed by black-and-white hair, with eyes of a clear green. It pulls back to reveal the Anti-Heel Machine in all his 7’2 glory... and holding a small plastic bottle in his right hand.

 

“Like many contact lens users, I sometimes suffer from sore, red eyes,” Terrence continues. “With my hectic lifestyle-” the camera shot cuts to SWF stock footage of Terrence dropping a jobber on his head with the ADF II “-I need to rely on my vision. I find that using ‘I-Fresh’ Contact Solution helps me go about my daily life with no hindrances, and I recommend it to you.”

 

Terrence holds his massive hand out towards the camera, the bottle dwarfed by it.

 

“Use ‘I-Fresh’... and keep your eyes happy.”

 

For a moment the big Australian’s face changes to a snarl of rage, and the eyes become a glowing red... then the advert ends.

 

 

COMMERCIAL BREAK!

 

 

“You know Comet, someone should really tell that company to get with the times,” Bobby Riley remarks as Storm comes back onto the air. “Although I suppose you can’t be expected to change your advertising after every drastic psychological shift in its celebrity star, even if that does mean that your product is now being endorsed by a psychotic monster...”

 

“Agreed, Robert,” Cyclone Comet... well, agrees. “Anyway Citizens, we now have a match-up that was added to tonight’s card at the last moment - after losing the ICTV Title to the Hell Machine for the second time running on Smarkdown, Toxxic is getting a run-out against a local hopeful, who is already in the ring and waiting for him. Robert, I believe you have the rundown on tonight’s new arrival?”

 

“Yes indeed,” Riley replies helpfully. “Although some viewers may remember him: TokyoX, who I believe I’m correct in saying made a brief appearance in the J-Leagues a couple of years back. As I understand it he was in the area and wanted an appearance on TV... and Zenon wants to keep Toxxic away from his REAL wrestlers at the moment, for reasons I think we can all understand...”

 

“Very true,” Comet acknowledges. “What else do you have on him?”

 

“Erm...” Riley turns his piece of paper over hopefully, then his face goes blank. He hurriedly flips it back, but the original side is evidently no more helpful than it was a second ago. “Well... I think he beat up his father before the show, if that’s any help...”

 

Riley is cut off by the crunching guitars of Lostprophets’ ‘We Still Kill The Old Way’ as the blacked-out Smarktron flashes up the words ‘Prepare To Be Proved Wrong’. The shot changes to 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!!*

 

...explosion of red pyro that announces the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger! The Smarktron shows a clip of Toxxic smiling his lopsided grin before it cuts to shots from the Straight-Edge Sensation’s matches. As the smoke starts to clear and the main riff hammers out Toxxic appears at the top of the entrance ramp and, without bothering to acknowledge the booing fans, proceeds to march straight down towards the ring.

 

“And his opponent!” Funyon booms, having already announced TokyoX. “Accompanied to the ring by his girlfriend Jet; from Nottingham, England; weighing in at 218lbs, he is ‘The Straight-Edge Sensation’... TOXX-IIIC!!”

 

Toxxic cautiously slides under the bottom rope and into the ring, not letting his back come into contact with the canvas. When he straightens and pulls his T-shirt off it becomes clear why - the lines of red scabs across his back from where the glass cut him on Smarkdown. The Brit slings his shirt out to Jet as she stands at ringside and then scratches absent-mindedly at one of the similar scabs on his face. Across the ring TokyoX bounces up and down, eager to start the match. Checking that both competitors are ready, Nick Soapdish calls for the bell-

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

-and they’re underway!

 

TokyoX moves in quickly, seeking to close with his more experienced opponent - but Toxxic slides out of the way and snares him in a reverse headlock! Tokyo’s own momentum cinches the hold tight and he reaches back to try and prise the straight-edger’s arm loose from around his throat. However Toxxic simply grabs his right wrist and starts to twist it up behind his opponent’s back in a hammerlock, looking for the Repeat To Fade!

 

“Citizen Tokyo could be in line for a loss in record time here,” Comet comments - but the paternal abuser flails madly with his free left arm and manages to grab the top rope, causing Soapdish to begin his count.

 

ONE!

 

Toxxic wrenches the Dragon Sleeper in tighter

 

TWO!

 

Soapdish waves his fingers in front of Toxxic’s face to make his point

 

THREE!

 

Toxxic looks over at the referee with an expression of mixed contempt and boredom

 

FOUR!

 

Soapdish starts to look excited, wondering if he might finally have the chance to DQ someone...

 

FI-

 

...but Toxxic breaks the hold. TokyoX flounders away, grabbing at his throat, then turns to remonstrate with the official-

 

*SMACK!!*

 

-but simply takes a superkick to the face! The impact knocks the newcomer back against the turnbuckles and probably causes him to see stars, but Toxxic gives him no time to recuperate. The straight-edger grabs Tokyo’s wrist and whips him across the ring - but Tokyo reverses the action halfway through, sending Toxxic into the opposite turnbuckles instead. However as the Brit reaches the buckles he simply vaults upwards, then comes sailing back at his opponent with the Role Reversal!

 

*WHAM!!*

 

Both men end up on their backs, but a fraction of a second later Toxxic is on top of Tokyo and hooking the leg.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-Kickout!

 

“Citizen Tokyo not willing to go down just yet,” Comet calls, “but the former ICTV Champ is starting this match at a breakneck speed!”

 

“And he’ll probably finish it at a breakneck speed too!” Riley replies. “At least; I’m sure there’ll be some neck-breaking involved somewhere!”

 

TokyoX tries to get away from his opponent to catch his breath, but Toxxic isn’t going to give up his advantage that easily. Instead the Straight-Edge Sensation hooks on a reverse headlock and drops to one knee, driving the other into the back of his adversary’s neck, then brings his man back up and over to drop him with a Diamond Cutter and complete the Detoxx! TokyoX rolls away and slips under the bottom ropes in an attempt to gain some time to clear his head... and now the chants start up.

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

“Tell me Comet, why haven’t these people learned yet?” Riley asks as Toxxic’s expression goes from stony to downright bleak.

 

“I honestly don’t know, Robert,” Comet replies. “I just don’t know...”

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

TokyoX staggers around the outside of the ring, trying to massage his jaw back into shape. A sudden increase in crowd noise over and above the chants makes him turn-

 

*WHAM!!*

 

-and he gets flattened by a 218lb human missile as Toxxic flies over the top rope with a running somersault senton! The impact evidently hurts Toxxic’s back, but the Brit pushes himself back up, grabs his opponent and rolls him back into the ring before following him in and covering him.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE-Kickout!

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

Nick Soapdish only finds two this time, but TokyoX’s kickout was cutting it very fine indeed.

 

“Comet, do you suppose TokyoX even knows he has to wrestle a match here?” Riley inquires with interest.

 

Leaving his opponent prone on the mat Toxxic quickly ascends to the top rope - then comes somersaulting off, looking to hit the Hangover...

 

*THUD!!*

 

...but Tokyo moves!

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

Seeking to capitalise on his advantage, the possum-playing dad-beater staggers to his feet, waits for Toxxic to turn as the Brit gets up... then brings his opponent over with a hurricanrana!

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

Toxxic skids across the mat as he lands, but the Brit is back up to his feet again quickly-

 

*WHAM!!*

 

-only to be nailed in the mouth by a spinning wheel kick!

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

Toxxic pushes himself back to his feet again, but this time TokyoX doesn’t wait for him to turn around. With a broad grin plastered across his features he vaults up onto Toxxic’s shoulders, facing forwards and twirling his hands over his head to signal for a Victory Roll.

 

“Uh-oh...” Comet mutters on commentary.

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

Tokyo starts the roll forward - and just as his weight starts to shift Toxxic snaps his hands upwards and locks them around the back of the Japanese wrestler’s neck, bringing him straight down onto his head in the Dangerlust!

 

*WHAM!!*

 

After that, it’s academic.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

*DING-DING-DING*

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match... TOXX-IIIC!!” Funyon booms over the noise of the Lostprophets’ guitars. The man himself slides out under the ring rope and greets Jet at ringside before heading towards the back, never casting a glance over his shoulder at the heap in the ring that used to be a competitor.

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

“What a win for the Hot Commodity!” Riley gloats as he watches the British punk walk up the ramp. “Toxxic took TokyoX apart like he was nobody, Comet!”

 

“Well, technically he is nobody,” the masked superhero responds. “Personally I’m very worried at the fact that Citizen Toxxic used the Dangerlust again, a move that Commissioner Zenon banned - and with good reason!”

 

“Now that’s not true,” Riley argues. “Zenon said he’d have to look at suspending Toxxic if he used it again - he can look, but do you really think he’ll risk shelving the Straight-Edge Sensation over TokyoX?”

 

“I suppose you have a point.”

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

Toxxic and Jet have reached the top of the ramp now, the former ICTV champ apparently managing to ignore the chants. Toxxic pushes through the curtain that leads to the backstage area... then a second later comes staggering back out! And following him out...

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

...dressed in his street clothes and a shirt bearing the words ‘No Salvation’...

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

...wielding the steel-tipped cane...

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

...comes Nathaniel Kibagami.

 

“What the hell is he doing here!?” Bobby Riley screams.

 

*SWISSSH-KRACK!!*

 

The shot catches Toxxic in the temple, dropping the Straight-Edge Sensation to one knee. Grabbing his weapon in both hands, the Kibagami rams the end into Toxxic’s gut, driving the breath from his lungs.

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

Jet flies at Kibagami, but the River Dragon swats her aside.

 

*SWISSSH-KRACK!!*

 

The two-handed blow catches Toxxic on the top of his head, and the Brit falls backwards. Striding forwards, the Slaughterer reverses his grip on the cane, raising it in two hands and preparing to stab the steel-tipped end down into Toxxic’s throat...

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

...and from out of the back comes a swarm of SWF security guards. No less than five of them grab Kibagami and haul him backwards while a further two pounce on Toxxic and prevent him from getting up. And leading them out and barking orders... is Alexander Zenon.

 

“Citizens, the potentially volatile situation between Toxxic and Kibagami has just got even worse!” Comet announces unnecessarily. “I can only guess what Commissioner Zenon’s response to this altercation will be!”

 

He doesn’t have to wait long to find out, because Zenon is motioning a member of the tech crew to get him a cordless mic.

 

“I have had it with you two!” Zenon screams. “You bitch, you talk trash to each other, you threaten me, you ruin the working environment and you destroy property! Enough is enough!”

 

‘SIIIIIIIIIIII-LENT...’

 

“And you lot can shut up as well!” Zenon yells at the Edmonton crowd, who respond unfavourably - but the Commissioner isn’t listening.

 

“Since you two can’t keep your hands off each other, I’m going to make a match for the Pay-Per-View!” Zenon announces. “Please bear in mind that I’m not particularly fond of either of you, so don’t think I’m doing either one a favour when I tell you that this match will be Last... Man... Standing!”

 

“RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!”

 

“Last Man Standing!” Comet gasps. “That was the match that Zenon faced Kibagami in at Battleground! Robert, do you think that Alex Zenon could still be bitter about his loss?”

 

“Hmm, well let me think,” Riley ponders sarcastically. “Of course he is, you masked buffoon! And there’s no better way to avenge that loss than by putting Kibagami in there with the Straight-Edge Sensation!”

 

“I haven’t finished!” Zenon announces, apparently to the crowd before turning back to the two SWF superstars. “In order for you to get to the PPV in one piece and avoid you messing up my booking anymore by one of you getting crippled, if EITHER of you lays so much as a FINGER on the other prior to the PPV you will be FIRED, and you can go crawling to some backyard indie promotion and see if they can afford the exorbitant wages that I appear to be paying you to drop people on their heads! And in order to properly enforce this ruling...” Zenon takes a deep breath, and a smile crosses his face “Kibagami - you are SUSPENDED for the rest of tonight, Lockdown AND Smarkdown!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

“He’s suspending Citizen Kibagami for two of the remaining shows before 13th Hour?” Comet says incredulously. “How is he expecting Nathaniel to be in full ring condition for it?”

 

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Riley asks pityingly.

 

Zenon looks at both men, apparently eager to see if his words have had any effect. Toxxic has managed to struggle up into a sitting position, but he is ignoring the Commissioner and staring at Kibagami with hate-filled eyes. And Kibagami just stares back... then shakes himself loose from his accompanying security guards and stalks away.

 

“Citizens, we’ll have more exciting action after the break!” Comet promises. “Stay tuned!”

 

COMMERCIAL BREAK!

 

“Hi, my name’s Crow, and I’m the Antichrist Supers- whaddya mean I’m not allowed to say ‘Antichrist’? Why farking not? OK, OK, I won’t use ‘fark’ either, Jesus...”

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

“Oh Landon….Landon….”

 

An eerie voice mutters out from the darkness as Storm returns from commercial, but everyone knows exactly who hides in the shadows. After a pause, Alan Clark steps out into the light of the hallway and talks as he walks, the camera following his every move.

 

“You’ve made my day, Mr. DISCIPLE!” Alan turns his gaze to the camera, showing off a sarcastic smile. “Oh boy, have you ever. I’m nearly giddy with excitement and each moment that passes until I step into that ring with you at 13th Hour is going to be long in passing. But here’s the thing…”

 

Alan holds the Book of Clark into the camera’s view before stopping to face it.

 

“Earlier tonight I was began to tell you something…and you cut me off to go into some silly tirade about how much you loathe my antics. Oh, Maddix…you are so blind.”

 

Alan stops, stifling a bit of laughter before holding the book up again.

 

“Do you know what is inside this book, Landon?”

 

….

 

 

“Do you?”

 

 

Alan Clark opens up the book, revealing nothing but blank pages to the viewing audience.

 

 

“Absolutely nothing…”

 

…

 

“You let your own imagination get ahead of you, Landon. I created a book filled with NOTHING and it took over your thoughts. I could tell when I looked in your eyes that you wondered what was hiding behind the cover. You wanted to see if I was anything like your precious Todd.” Alan’s smile grows wider. “And I am, Landon. I am greater than your Todd.”

 

Alan’s expression grows from happy-go-lucky to near-sinister in seconds.

 

“We came into the fed together, and he beat me…but that was the only time. Call it beginner’s luck if you wish, but he succumbed to me each and every other time we faced. He can’t deny it. Your Todd has fallen, Landon, and you know it. Megan knows it, too. But with Todd injured, she has nothing left but to follow you. And I know that you like that.” Alan let’s forth a bit of laughter.

 

“But let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk more about how I’ve taken over your thoughts and your dreams. For eight months you’ve had me on your mind…either in the back of your mind, in the front, or in the unconscious…like after Battleground. I ignored you for weeks and it drove you crazy. You wanted to challenge me, to settle all of our history once and for all…and finally I knew you were ready to step out of Todd’s path and walk one a new trail to destiny.”

 

…

 

“Well you are coming to the 13th Hour, Landon. Wrestlers have gone into this match as mere men and have left legends. The have become true gods among men. So I only have one question for you…”

 

 

Alan turns back and walks toward where he came from, into the darkness of another hallway. His voice trails behind him as the scene fades out…

 

“When are you going to accept the fact…that I am your true savior?”

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

“Welcome back to SWF Storm, Citizens,” exclaims our exuberant masked announcer, Cyclone Comet. “It’s now time for our next match, the Cruiserweight Title match, and for the first time ever in the SWF…the Cruiserweight Championship will be decided in a No Gravity Match!”

 

“Todd Cortez won this opportunity to face Johnny Dangerous on the last edition of Lockdown,” reports Riley. “To tell you the truth though, I’m a little worried about this match. For some reason Johnny blames Mike Van Siclen for the loss of his partner, the Wildchild, and tonight he’s facing Mike’s tag team partner, Todd Cortez! We all know that the Barracuda is a loose cannon and what’s to stop him from trying to purposely injury Cortez?”

 

“First off, Robert,” deadpans Comet, “Johnny doesn’t just blame Mike Van Siclen for it, Mike Van Siclen DID injure Wildchild - we all saw it with our very own eyes! However, I would like to think that Johnny is better than to come out here and purposely injury another competitor…even with those circumstances you brought up.”

 

“Well, I’m just placing my faith in the fact that Todd Cortez is more than the Barracuda could ever hope to handle, giving him no chance to try and pull a fast one,” Bobby says. “If you think about it, Johnny not focusing his attention toward the goals of this match—hitting five top rope moves—would totally play into Todd’s favor.”

 

“We’ll just have to see about that,” replies Comet. “I think Johnny has his attention focused on doing everything he can to retain the Cruiserweight Championship, so if he needs to fly you can bet on the Barracuda flying tonight. Anyway, let’s turn this over to our ring announcer, Funyon!”

 

A single spotlight shines down on the ring, illuminating the impeccably dressed Funyon as he raises the microphone to his lips. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he says. “The following contest is our NO GRAVITY MATCH for the SMARTMARK WRESTLING FEDERATION CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIIIIIIP!! The winner of this match will be the first man to successfully utilize a total of five top rope, or turnbuckle moves on their opponent. Introducing first, the Challenger…”

 

As the house lights fade, "Tres Delinquentes" by Delinquent Habits ROARS across the Rexal Place, signaling the coming of the Urban Legend! The curtains fling aside, and Todd Cortez strolls out onto the stage, right into the line of fire from the vocal crowd, booing him with everything they have in the tank! He comes to the top of the ramp, stopping as he crosses his arms in front of him like an “X” and thumps his fist into his chest!

 

“From THE STREETS~,” continues Funyon, “and weighing in at two hundred and twenty-six pounds, he is one half of the SWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIOOOOONS, this is… ‘URBAN LEGEND’ TOOOOOOD COOOOORTEEEZ!!”

 

Todd heads to the ring at his more than leisurely pace, rubbing the cross hanging from his gold chain in his fingers while pointing to the sky with his other hand. He slides into the ring and ascends the near corner, pantomiming a title belt around his waist and getting a good sized boo from the Edmonton fans!

 

“Citizen Cortez is certainly looking confident,” notes Comet. “It’d seem he doesn’t share your worries about Johnny trying to extract vengeance on him, Robert.”

 

“Like I said, though I may have a sinking feeling about this match, I also have my faith in Cortez to put the Barracuda in his place.

 

“And his opponent,” booms Funyon, as once more the house lights fade and as the crowd begins to let their anticipation be heard, a voice picks up on the speakers, whispering a name in a deep, sultry voice…

 

“JOHNNY DANGEROUS~!”

 

“After the Flesh” suddenly follows suit, thundering out across the Rexal Place while the stage begins to fill with the haze of white smoke billowing out from the sides. Dozens of strobes light up the set, partially illuminating the Barracuda as he emerges through the cloud of smoke with the Cruiserweight Title strapped around his waist, and the gold gleams brilliantly as the lights pass over it.

 

“From Las Vegas, Nevada,” continues Funyon, “and weighing in at two hundred and seventeen pounds, he is the reigning SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIOOOOON… JOOOOOHNNY ‘THE BARRACUDA’ DAAAANGEROUUUUUUS!!”

 

Johnny stands at the top of the ramp for a moment, surveying the crowd through his sleek high-tech shades and with a faint smile then snaps his attention towards his opponent in the ring, growling at the Urban Legend.

 

“See,” notes Bobby. “He’s not focused on the task at hand he’s focused on Todd Cortez!”

 

Johnny heads down the ramp while removing his trench coat and shades then slides into the ring. He unfastens the title belt and hands it off to referee Anthony Kivell, the official for this match, then steps into the middle of the ring, getting right into the Challengers face. Cortez just stares back, getting nose to nose with the Barracuda as the fans being rising with enthusiasm.

 

“If you’ll notice,” says Comet, as the Smarktron™ lights up with a scoreboard style display. “We will be keeping track of each mans progress on our specially designed scoreboard - when a man hits a top rope move his score will go up by one point until reaching five.”

 

Kivell hands off the belt to a ringside assistant then heads back to the two competitors for a quick run down of the rules…

 

SMACK!

 

…and Johnny slaps the taste right out of Cortez’s mouth as Kivell quickly spins back around, and signals for the bell!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“Bell’s gone,” reports Comet, “and we are underway with a BANG~!”

 

The sudden strike from the Barracuda catches Cortez by total surprise, forcing him to take a step back as Johnny moves in, swinging a fist for Todd’s skull…

 

NO! Cortez quickly tosses a forearm up, blocking the blow then fires a quick series of right hands into the Barracuda’s jaw!

 

Whap!

Whap!

Whap!

 

Johnny is stunned for just a second, and that is all Todd Cortez needs! He spins himself around as he brings his arm up, looking to drive the point of his elbow into the Secret Agent’s forehead…

 

 

WHOOSH!

 

 

…but Johnny ducks down just in the nick of time, narrowly avoiding the attack as Cortez’s elbow skims across the top of Dangerous’ jet-black mane! As Cortez’s stops with his back to the Barracuda, Johnny hops up, floats to the side, hooks the Urban Legends arm, and with a quick pop of his hips sends Todd to the mat with a hip toss! Todd hits and immediately rolls to his feet, charging back towards Johnny…

 

… Dangerous side steps the advance and lunges from behind, snagging Cortez in a side headlock! He clenches down hard, nearly popping the Urban Legend’s brain out of his skull as Cortez bucks and flails, hopelessly trying to worm his way free.

 

Johnny pops back up to his feet, jumps up… and LEVELS Todd Cortez with a Springing Sidekick to the chest! Dangerous quickly makes way across the ring, picking up some steam as Cortez climbs back to his feet…

 

“And the Barracuda has taken control of this match,” says Comet, “and if he can keep the momentum in his corner… we might see the end of this match earlier than we expected.”

 

Johnny sinks into the ropes, and rockets himself off them – tearing back across the ring towards Todd with a blaze of fire! But at the last moment…Cortez ducks under an attempted lariat, the reaches around from behind him to catch the Barracuda by his head, and drops him to the mat with a quick… yet effective neck breaker!

 

WHAM!

 

“Ha!” snorts Bobby, “So much for that last prediction of yours.”

 

Cortez steps out onto the apron as Johnny recovers inside the ring, and makes his way over towards the corner, but the Barracuda pops to his feet suddenly and beats Cortez to the corner, leaping onto the middle turnbuckle and springing over the top rope…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Snaring him by the head while in mid-flight and driving his head into the thinly-padded arena floor with a Springboard Tornado DDT!

 

“BIG TIME DDT by Operative Dangerous,” shouts Comet. “Shades of the Wildchild are coming out tonight through Johnny, and he couldn’t have picked a better match to use the Bahama Bomber’s offense!”

 

“We saw what happened last time Johnny tried to copy Wildchild’s moves,” recalls Bobby. “It lasted for… oh five seconds before the Barracuda nearly found himself staring up at the lights!”

 

Johnny rolls back into the ring as Todd is gathering his bearings out on the arena floor, and walks over to the corner, scaling to the top turnbuckle.

 

“He’s going up top! To think that you said Johnny wouldn’t keep his focus on the objectives of this match, Robert.”

 

With the crowd heavily cheering him on, Johnny leaps off the turnbuckle towards center of the top rope, his body facing the inside of the ring. He lands in a seated position on the top rope as Cortez gets back to his feet outside the ring…

 

 

WHACK!

 

 

… and springs from that very same seated position backwards out of the ring, flipping backwards through the air to crash into Cortez with an unconventional… but spectacular moonsault press!

 

”JOHN-NY!”

”JOHN-NY!”

”JOHN-NY!”

”JOHN-NY!”

 

Kivell quickly signals in Johnny’s favor for hitting the top rope move, and the Smarktron™ makes the facts known:

 

“Johnny: 1 - Cortez: 0”

 

“And Operative Dangerous gets the first successful move in,” notes Comet. “At this rate we could be seeing Johnny take this all the way to five without Cortez hitting a single spot!”

 

“Don’t count on it,” hisses Bobby. “Johnny might have gotten Cortez with that one, but this match is far from over!”

 

Johnny pops up to his feet, and reaches down grabbing the Challenger by his chin to pull him up, and leads him over to the ring apron, rolling him underneath the bottom rope. Dangerous pulls himself onto the apron and leaps to the top rope… and SPRINGS~ off…

 

WHACK!

 

…and Johnny drives his elbow into Cortez’s neck with an elbow drop!

 

“Johnny: 2 - Cortez: 0”

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

 

“Another point for Johnny,” notes Comet, “bringing him to a two point lead over the Challenger, Todd Cortez.”

 

“Son of a bitch,” curses Bobby. “How’s that blasted Kivell going to award Johnny another point for that crap! An elbow drop… A frigging Elbow?!”

 

“It was off the top rope…”

 

“Shut up!”

 

Not even skipping a beat Johnny jumps back to his feet, leaving Cortez writhing on the mat as he makes his way to the corner, and climbs up…

 

“Surely he doesn’t think he’s going to get himself to three already,” Riley says, quite cross.

 

However, that is exactly what the Barracuda hopes for as he reaches to the top of the turnbuckle. He pauses for a moment, pumping his fist to the crowd… then vaults off the top! He soars through the air and pumps his arms and legs in a frog-like motion before crashing down hard into…

 

 

WHACK!!

 

 

“NOBODY HOME,” exclaims Bobby, as a nanosecond before Johnny lands, Cortez rolls to safety leaving nothing but the canvas for Johnny to paste his body into! “Look at that, Johnny got a little too over-confident there thinking he could just hit move after move on Cortez without the Urban Legend even putting up so much as a fight – boy was he wrong!”

 

“Definitely a smart move by the Challenger,” agrees Comet. “Perhaps the Barracuda invested a little too much time paying homage to the fans and it has cost him dearly!”

 

Rolling onto his back, Johnny clenches his midsection and groans in pain. Meanwhile, Cortez begins making his way to his feet, albeit somewhat shaky. He smacks the palm of his hand against his head to knock the cobwebs loose, while finally making his way over towards the Secret Agent…

 

WHAM!

 

...and Todd slams his foot into the Barracuda’s midsection, eliciting a howl of pain from Johnny! He rolls to his side, shielding himself from more blows to his injured section, but Cortez rolls him back onto his back and twice more drives his foot into Dangerous!

 

 

WHAM!

WHAM!

 

 

Finally, feeling that he has Johnny somewhat under his control, Todd stoops down and grabs onto Dangerous by his arm, pulling him up with a quick arm wrench. He steps forward, whipping the Barracuda across the ring, and chases after him just two steps behind. Johnny hits the ropes, and bounces back…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

…Johnny runs right into a drop kick from Todd Cortez, knocking him over the top rope and all the way to the thinly-padded concrete floor!

 

“Normally,” says Comet. “Knocking an opponent over the top rope in a Cruiserweight rules match would result in a disqualification, but those rules are most definitely not being enforced tonight!”

 

“Further proof of Todd Cortez’s skills as a wrestler,” adds Bobby. “He’s not letting the rather strange rules of this match slow him down, but rather using them to his advantage. This is why this man was a tag team Champion his first night in this federation!”

 

Todd quickly bolts for the far side of the ring, hits the ropes and comes tearing back across the ring then leaps to the top rope and bounces off, soaring out of the ring! He flips backwards just as he leaps off, and unfolds right over Johnny with a Shooting Star Plancha!

 

 

CRAAACK!!

 

 

Johnny is floored instantly, and surprisingly the crowd applauds the Urban Legends risky move while Kivell notions a point for Cortez.

 

“Johnny: 2 - Cortez: 1”

 

“Finally,” shouts Bobby. “It’s about time Kivell pulled his head out of his ass an awarded Todd Cortez something!”

 

“Seeing as how that was the first top rope move he hit and all,” deadpans Comet.

 

But it won’t be the last for Cortez, apparently, as he climbs back to his feet, and grabs Johnny, rolling him back into the ring and following closely behind him. He heads straight for the turnbuckle and climbs up, perching himself and waiting… waiting as Johnny climbs back to his feet.

 

“it looks like Todd is taking the same approach to this as Johnny was,” says Comet. “Hit a move and keep him down, wash, rinse, repeat.”

 

Against the urging of the Canadian crowd, Johnny slowly staggers back to his feet, still rather stunned. He spins around, looking to find where the Urban legend has gone, and the second he turns towards Cortez, Todd leaps through the air…

 

CRACK!

 

…and Cortez drives his feet into Johnny with a top rope drop kick, instantly flooring the Barracuda!

 

“Johnny: 2 - Cortez: 2”

 

“And we now have a tie, but for how long is the question!”

 

Unlike the Secret Agent before him though, Cortez doesn’t head back up top, instead he pulls Johnny back to his feet and quickly paste him in the mouth with a right hand, rocking Dangerous’ head back! Johnny stumbles back, but Todd keeps him close by grabbing Dangerous by the wrist and pulling him back in…

 

 

WHACK!!

 

 

…and pulling him right into a spinning heel kick! Once more, Johnny finds himself staring face-first into the canvas! Cortez stands up and turns towards the crowd, smacking his hand against his chest over and over and over again, boasting his accomplishments, but the crowd answers back with a hefty boo!

 

“If Citizen Cortez thinks the crowd is going to get behind him now, he is seriously deluded,” says Comet. “He needs to pick his friends a little better first.”

 

Nonetheless, Todd simply dismisses them with a wave and he turns back toward the turnbuckles and climbs up once more. Again he waits, and when Johnny begins pushing off the mat, getting up on his hands and knees, Cortez launches himself off…

 

 

WHACK!!!

 

 

…and Todd drops an Axe Kick into the back of Johnny’s neck, driving him head-first into the mat!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

“Johnny: 2 - Cortez: 3”

 

“There goes that tie,” says Bobby. “Todd is on a roll – he only needs two more moves and we will be looking at a new cruiserweight Champion tonight!”

 

Leaving Johnny’s carcass in a heap, Todd feels more than confident that he can nail another top rope move and so he heads across the ring. For Johnny, his pain is great, but he knows that he must push himself forward or risk loosing everything he holds close to him… in spite of his pain he begins to get back up as Todd nears the top turnbuckle…

 

“Wait! Wait,” exclaims Comet. “Johnny’s getting back up!”

 

Suddenly he explodes off the mat and races toward the corner as Todd reaches the top! Johnny races up the ropes and quickly hooks Cortez around the waist, hauling him over…

 

 

WHAM!!

 

 

…and driving him neck and shoulders first into the mat with a suplex, folding him up like an accordion!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“Johnny: 3 - Cortez: 3”

 

“Damn,” curses Bobby. “We’re tied again… and I can’t believe we are giving that one to Johnny!”

 

“You’d be surprised at what we award when we are running behind,” replies Comet, leaving Bobby simply dumbfounded.

 

Johnny gets back up by way of the ropes and hangs there for a moment, desperately trying to gather himself as quick as possible. The crowd begins to chant:

 

“LET’S GO JOHN-NY! LET’S GO!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!

“LET’S GO JOHN-NY! LET’S GO!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!

 

Finally, the Barracuda pushes on, climbing to the outside apron. He waits on the outside, waiting as Todd slowly staggers to his feet before finally vaulting himself to the top rope… and leaping off…

 

WHAM!!

 

Driving both feet into Cortez’s chest with a springboard drop kick!

 

“Johnny: 4 - Cortez: 3”

 

“We’re getting closer,” shouts Comet. “Johnny is only one step away from claiming the victory here!”

 

“Well, Todd is only two steps… he can catch up,” replies Bobby, dripping with hope.

 

Johnny, learning from his previous mistake, pulls Cortez up this time…but the Urban legend has other plans and he pumps his fist straight into Johnny’s nuts!

 

DING!

 

The Barracuda crumples over, folding up in a fetal position as Cortez slowly pulls himself back up. He crouches over, resting against his knees for a moment as he finally has the chance with Johnny unable to pull anything off at the moment. Finally, Cortez hops out on the apron…and in a rather lazy display, grabs onto the top rope and launches himself upward enough to roll over the top rope and come crashing down onto Johnny with a Senton Splash!

 

SMACK!

 

“Johnny: 4 - Cortez: 4”

 

“Hot damn,” says Bobby, “there’s that tie again! All Cortez need sis one more, count them…ONE more to win!”

 

“For that matter, so does the Barracuda…”

 

Johnny staggers to his feet, apparently in a daze when Todd steps in…and snatches the Barracuda’s neck!

 

“Here it comes,” exclaims Bobby, while the crowd UNLOADS a flurry of boos, “the Urban Assault! We are just MOMENTS away from looking at a NEW Cruiserweight Champion here tonight, ladies and gentlemen! He’s going to hit the Urban assault then land the last move he needs to seal the deal.”

 

For about one whole second, Todd glares deep into the Barracuda’s eyes with a criminal smile dressing his face as he holds Johnny by his neck at arms-length -- satisfaction of the kill already overcoming him, even before the final blow is dealt! He grabs Johnny’s near arm and drapes it over his shoulder, then grabs a decent sized chunk of the Secret Agent by his midsection, and…

 

NOOOOOO!!! Almost as if he were deliberately trying to defy the predictions of Bobby Riley, Johnny suddenly BURST to life, kicking the sole of his foot into the side of Cortez’s knee, not once…but twice! He quickly spins himself out of Todd’s grasp, landing himself behind Cortez as the Urban Legend nearly drops on one knee, clasping that very same knee while shrilling in pain! Johnny reaches under Todd’s arms, snaring the Urban Legend into a full nelson then jerks Cortez up to both feet…into the air…

 

WHAM!!

 

…and Johnny slams the Urban Legend, face-first, into the mat with a full nelson face-driver!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

 

“By Odin’s beard,” exclaims Comet, this time with the fans rejoicing the events taking place! “Operative Dangerous just reversed the Urban Assault and forced Citizen Cortez face-first into the mat with a Dangerous Driver – I think Johnny’s looking for a crossface here!”

 

“That’s about the stupidest damn thing you’ve said all night,” snipes Bobby. “What good is a crossface going to do Johnny Dangerous when we’re in a NO GRAVITY match!”

 

Sure enough, Johnny uses his thighs like a vise to hold Cortez’s near arm, and he SLAMS his fist into the back of the Urban Legend’s head multiple times to subdue the fight, all the while TRYING, and trying desperately to lock in his crossface submission!

 

“What the hell is this,” cries Bobby. “Where does the Barracuda get these little second burst of energies from? He’s GOT to be on something!”

 

“The only thing he’s on is HEART,” proclaims Comet. “He’s giving this fight every little bit that he has – Johnny will never go down so long as he still has something to give… so long as there is a legacy to uphold!”

 

Finally, and to a tremendous roar of cheers, the Barracuda locks his fingers around Cortez’s chin and pulls back, nearly pushing the Urban Legend’s neck to the breaking point!

 

“The Interrogator,” bellows Comet, watching as Cortez’s wail in agony to the ferocious submission. “Citizen Cortez has certainly taken a beating to his neck… as well as just about every other body part… ”

 

Finally, the pain is much too great, and the Urban Legend begins to tap as the fans go wild… but unfortunately, Kivell’s hands are tied – he holds his hands out and shakes his head, there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

 

“Oh now this is what I was telling you about, Comet,” cries Riley. “Johnny can just work that submission from now to doomsday, and there is nothing to stop him – he’s going to break Todd Cortez’s neck!”

 

“Operative Dangerous wouldn’t stoop that low, Robert. All he’s doing is draining the energy out of Citizen Cortez so he can hit the one last top rope move and retain the Cruiserweight Championship!”

 

After what seems like an eternity for Cortez, the Barracuda finally releases the hold, leaving the Cortez face down on the mat, writhing in pain. He turns and heads across the ring, coming to a turnbuckle and with the fans cheering him on, Johnny begins to climb up.

 

“Here it comes… the fifth and final top rope move,” says Comet. “And I told you the Barracuda wasn’t going to injure Citizen Cortez… he just wanted to make sure he would stay down!”

 

However, Cortez isn’t about to stay down if he can help it! He rolls onto his stomach and pushes himself up with one hand while holding dearly to his throbbing neck with the other as Johnny makes his way up the second rope to the turnbuckle.

 

“Look out, Johnny,” warns Comet, unable to watch as Todd puts everything he has left into zooming across the ring… and before Johnny is able to reach the top, Todd grabs Dangerous by his ankle and TEARS him off the post…

 

WHACK!

 

…and Johnny’s forehead cracks into the top of the turnbuckle, knocking him silly and he bounces off landing on his feet! Cortez drops to his knees, breathing heavily as again… his hand shoots to his neck while watching Johnny stagger around to face him…

 

WHAM-CRAAACK!!!

 

Cortez explodes off the mat, driving his shoulder into Johnny’s sternum with a spear as the crowd lets out an “OOOOH!” and the Barracuda goes flying back into the ring post back-first with a sickening thud! Johnny drops to the mat, now with a scorching pain in his spine, and Cortez collapses to the canvas as well, still clinging to his neck!

 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” cheers Riley. “Todd Cortez just flipped the tables on the Barracuda… and in record breaking time to boot! So much for Johnny retaining the Cruiserweight Championship tonight, all Todd has to do is hit that last move!”

 

“But both men are down,” reports Comet, “both men are down! What a tremendous display of athleticism these two men just put out, but it took everything out of them! We are still tied at four top rope moves for both of these competitors and it could really go either way at this point!”

 

“But who will it be? Who can get up first and hit that last move?”

 

Almost as if on cue, the crowd voices their opinion with a loud chant, obviously on who they hope gets that last move in:

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“This crowd is really coming alive for the Barracuda now,” notes Comet, as Johnny stands to his feet, still feeling the stinging effects of the last move. Cortez moves as well, but moves at a fierce rate, exploding off the canvas and once more, diving towards Johnny for a spear…

 

 

NOOO!! Johnny strafes to the side, narrowly avoiding the spear and instead… Cortez goes shoulder first into the steel post!

 

CRAAAACK!!

 

“OOOOOH!” the crowd cries out, and Todd peels himself off the post and staggers back several steps before finally crumbling to the mat, howling in pain and holding his shoulder! Johnny makes the seconds count and quickly ascends the turnbuckle…

 

“THIS COULD BE IT,” shouts the caped crusader as Johnny reaches the top, and waits a moment to see if Todd will stay in place before finally leaping off…

 

 

…flipping backwards while soaring closer to the Urban Legend…

 

 

 

…and Johnny unfolds right over Cortez, crushing Todd with a shooting star press!

 

WHAAAAAAAM!!!

 

“SHOOTING JOHNNY PRESS,” exclaims Comet, as Kivell quickly signals for the bell after awarding the final point and win to Johnny Dangerous. “Johnny busted out a move we have rarely seen from him, and it has paid off ten-fold!”

 

“Johnny: 5 - Cortez: 4”

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

For the second time tonight, “After the Flesh” rages across the arena, only this time in a victory lap as the crowd goes wild!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

 

“He’s done it, once more, Johnny wins,” cheers Comet. “It came awfully close there towards the end, but Johnny broke the tie with a Shooting Johnny Press, putting the cap on a stellar match!”

 

“The winner of this match,” booms Funyon, “and STIIIIIIL the SMARTMARK WRESTLING FEDERATION CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIOOON… of the WOOOOOOOORLD… JOOOOOOOOOHN-NY DAAAANGEROUUUUS!!!”

 

Kivell strolls toward Johnny, handing him back the Cruiserweight Championship while grabbing the Barracuda’s other arm and raising it in victory.

 

“This is pure crap,” grumbles Bobby. “After all the hard work Todd put into winning the chance to face Johnny for this title, he didn’t even have to be pinned to loose this match… and we all know it’d be a cold day in hell before the Barracuda pinned the Urban Legend!”

 

“That remains to be seen,” replies Comet. “Maybe Citizen Cortez will get another chance someday, but for now the Cruiserweight Championship is staying with the Barracuda. We have another title match coming up next – the USJL title match… and so far this doesn’t appear to be a night of crowning new champions, but we might just want to see a new champion for that title.”

 

Comet’s voice trails off as Johnny, standing tall on a corner turnbuckle holds the Cruiserweight Championship out for the fans as hundreds of flashbulbs explode and…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As We:

FADE OUT.

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

In the heartland of Canadian Wrestling, in Alberta Canada, the sold out Edmonton crowd is still trying to lift the roof off with their chants and cheers. Already worn out from a long spring of spots from the No Gravity Match and other matches before than. Still waving their signs and banners high, the crowd struggles and pushes to try and get themselves on TV as the cameras sweep past.

 

Comet: Welcome back Citizen to SWF Storm! We’ve just seen a fantastic battle over the Cruiserweight Title in a No Gravity Match. What a sight for these Canadian fans!

 

Riley: Oh please, this is Canada, there was no Sharpshooter, no technical work, they hated it really. I’m sure someone will try to get some cheat heat like that somewhere on the show. Knowing the people we employ.

 

Comet: I should think that our wrestlers are move than over enough with these loyal Citizens Robert. But right now we’ve got a Two Falls, Two Titles match coming up next.

 

Riley: I wouldn’t be so sure about that Comet, how about you pay attention to your screen. It’s Tom Flesher, so something important must be happening batch stage. Even more important than Landon Maddix winning another title.

 

The Smarktron shows somewhere backstage in the Rexal Place, where Tom Flesher is standing, talking to Referee Hardcastle. Looking about, Flesher notices the camera, but carries on talking as it gets closer, moving his hands as he does.

 

Flesher: You got that Hardcastle, just keep you head down when things start flying, I’m not taking any chances with this one. But I’m very glad you’re able to come and referee this match before it should be happening.

 

Bbbbbbbbbbbbooooooooooooooooooo!

 

Comet: What’s going on here? It looks like Citizen Flesher has found himself a referee for the Hardcore Match between him and Dace for the main even, but that’s not until the end of the night!

 

Riley: Yes, but it’s a Hardcore Match. I think Flesher is taking matters into his own hands, so he doesn’t have to meet Dace on Dace’s terms. Besides, it’s not like there are any rules or anything to it anyway.

 

Turning around, Flesher looks straight down the camera, before striding past it, waving for Hardcastle to follow on behind him. Turning a corner in the corridor, the Superior One heads down past the dressing room areas and towards the halls containing the food for the wrestlers and crew. Keeping his eyes peeled, Tom checks every corner, as he goes on the look out for Dace Night.

 

Comet: What a vile plan, he means to make a surprise attack on Citizen Night to gain the advantage in this match up! How can such things be allowed?

 

Riley: Well, Hardcastle seems to be agreeing to go along with it. All’s fair in love and war Comet. I know about that one all too well…oh Steve…

 

Turning another corner, Flesher comes up short as he hears the thud of a can of pop from a vending machine down the hall. Waving Hardcastle to lean back against the wall, Tom slowly pokes his head around to see who’s there. The camera follows him around the corner, and the figure of Dace Night can just be seen cracking open a soda and knocking it back. Motioning for Hardcastle to stay put, Flesher advances around the corner, cracking his neck, ready for action.

 

Comet: Look out Citizen Night, here comes Tom Flesher!

 

Riley: Oh shut up Comet, let the man fight for himself.

 

Flesher: Dace! I was hoping I was going to run into you somewhere around here.

 

Turning around, Dace looks Tom up and down, finishing off the can of soda in his hand and crushing it then throwing it into a near by bin. Glaring and clenching his fists, Horrorcore advances slowly, getting closer and closer to Flesher before stopping a few feet infront of him.

 

Dace: Thomas, I wonder what you could want me for really. Coming here to brag about your win, or threat me about the main even maybe? Think you can take me on my terms, think that the next matches will go your way as well Flesher?

 

Tom: Don’t get smart with me Goth Boy, I can hold a civil conversation with someone, unlike you. I’m just here to talk to you about your next match up. You know, I was doing some thinking as well as some talking to a referee about hardcore rules. You know, it’s not my game, making sure I’m on about it.

 

Moving forwards even more, standing face to face with Flesher, Dace glares at him, looking him up and down, not even bothering to hide the hatred towards him. Rolling up the sleeves of the Emperor t shirt he’s wearing, Horrorcore cocks his head to one side. Seeming to look past Flesher for a few moments, Dace settles his gaze on Tom again and breaks out into a grin.

 

Dace: I’m sure you where Tom, but you see there’s just one thing about that. They have monitors back stage so we can watch what’s going out on the cameras and see what’s happening to people…

 

CRACK!

 

Yyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Levelling Flesher with an Elbow Smash that nearly splits his jaw, Dace dives on top of him, slamming more and more into his face. Hearing the noise, Referee Hardcastle comes running out from around the corner, seeing the two wrestles in battle. Waving his arms towards the camera, yelling that the match just started!

 

DING, DING, DING!

 

Comet: We’re not waiting to the end of the night Citizens! The main even, the hardcore match, number three in the best of five just kicked off right now!

 

Riley: After Dace Night attacked Tom Flesher backstage! What a low life!

 

Comet: What are you on about? It was the Superior One that went looking for Dace Night with a referee in tow!

 

Grabbing Flesher by his head, Dace roughly hauls him up from the ground and slams his head straight into the front of the soda machine, smashing Flesher’s face through it!

 

CRRAAAASSSSHHHH!

 

Ooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Pulling Tom out of the wreckage of the machine, Dace looks at the already bleeding mass of Flesher’s head. Not even giving Flesher a moment, Night spins on his heel and crushes Tom’s face into the concrete wall on the other side of the corridor. Again pulling Flesher back, looking at the bloodstain on the wall, Dace drags him a few feet down the corridor before smashing his head into a board on the wall, making a cracking sound.

 

FUCK HIM UP DACE! FUCK FUCK! FUCK HIM UP DACE! FUCK FUCK!

 

Riley: Oh jesus! Look at Flesher, look at what Dace has done to the Superior One! He just put his face through the front of that soda machine and he doesn’t even care!

 

Comet: You said all is fair in love and war Riley. With a shot at the World Title on the line, possibly one of the valid shots eve, this series is turning into a war!

 

Scooping up the already bloodied Tom Flesher, the Hardcore Goth flips him in the air and sends him crashing down onto the cold floor with a Scoop Slam. Arching his back and yelling out on pain on impact, Flesher clutches at it with one hand, while trying to wipe the blood from his face with the other. Peeling the Superior One off the floor like a MacDonald’s burger, Night spins him around, locking his arm around Tom’s neck in a Front Facelock. Snapping backwards onto the cold concrete floor, Dace spike’s Flesher’s already bloodied face.

 

Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Scrambling to his feet, Dace shoves a stack of panelling out of the way and pulls out a rack of light bulb tubes. Turning to the still struggling Flesher, Dace smashes a roll of them over his head, sending a shower of glass, dust and blood into the air. Screaming in pain, Flesher rolls over, trying to cover up his face from the flying glass. Flipping Flesher off, Night slams the heel of his boot into the back of Flesher’s head repeatedly.

 

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

 

Comet: My god, Tom Flesher is a bloody mess! There’s a pool of blood forming on the floor!

 

Riley: See, Dace is just laying a sneak attack mugging on Flesher! All he wanted to do was talk to the man and Dace attacks him with lightbulb tubes! How can things like this be allowed to happen?

 

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

 

Taking up one more lightbulb tube, Horrorcore breaks it over the back of Tom’s head, sending fresh blood pouring out of his head. Kneeling over Flesher’s back, Night holds the sharp, broken end of the light tube and brings it down onto Flesher’s back, starting to carve with it. Screaming and thrashing around in pain, the Superior One frantically tries to get away but can’t shift the weight from his back. Carving whole letters into Tom’s back, Dace stands up with a roar, letting the camera zoom in on the words “FUCK YOU” carved across Tom’s back, as blood pours out the wounds.

 

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

 

Comet: Oh. My. God! Citizen Night just carved that messed into the back of the Superior One!

 

Riley: Someone stop this shit fight fucking now! This isn’t a match, this is a butchery! Someone stop it!

 

An ever increasing pool of blood forms under Flesher’s body, as it pumps out of his head and his back. Dace’s t shirt is now drenched in blood from Flesher’s wounds. Hauling up the almost dead body of Tom Flesher, Horrorcore pulls him into a Standing Headscissors and Underhooks both of his arms. Flipping Tom into the air, lifting the near dead weight, Dace sits out, driving Tom’s sliced up back onto the concrete floor.

 

Ooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

WE FELT THAT ONE! WE FELT THAT ONE! WE FELT THAT ONE!

 

Hardcastle slides in, looking worried by all the blood, not really wanting to have to count a fall on all the blood…

 

ONNNNNEEEEE!

 

 

 

 

TWWWWWOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TTTTHHHHHRRRRRRRRR-NNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbooooooooooooooooo!

 

Riley: FLESHER KICKS OUT! What a hero, what a great man! He’s getting mugged by this mad man that is causing possible permanent damage to his body and he’s still fighting!

 

Comet: Citizen Night is just destroying Tom Flesher. It looks like trying to meet him in a Hardcore environment was a very, very bad idea!

 

Riley: Bad idea? He could DIE! Don’t you care?

 

Sitting, Dace wipes the blood that has sprayed up on to his face. Pulling Tom back up, heaving to get up all the limp weight, Horrorcore watches the blood almost flow of Flesher like a waterfall. Slipping his arms into a Double Underhook, Dace lets out a roar as he drags Flesher up into the air and falls backwards, drilling Flesher into the blood covered floor with a Defenestration!

 

CRUNCH! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

 

Comet: DEFENESTRATION ON THE FLOOR! FLESHER’S DEAD!

 

Riley: Don’t you DARE joke about that one Comet! You could be right!

 

Pushing the completely blood covered Tom Flesher over onto his back, Dace rolls over on top of him. Now drenched in the blood of the Superior One, Dace makes a cover purely for technical reasons…

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner and now leader of the series, two matches to one…

 

DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT!

 

Rolling to his feet, Dace flips Tom off with two fingers on one hand and one on the other, showing his two one lead. EMTs come charging down the hall, which now looks like it’s a scene in a horror film. Pulling off his t shirt, Night watches the blood dripping form it as Flesher is lifting onto a back board and carted away down the hall.

 

Comet: Words can not describe the amount of blood in that corridor right now. Hardcore is one thing…but …

 

Riley: I hope that sicko gets fired for this! This just isn’t right Comet. It’s not. He’s probably enjoying this. And all because he, shock of shock, lost to Tom Flesher…

 

Comet: Well, Citizen Flesher now has to win the next match to stay in the series. And with the state he’s in, I don’t think that’s going to be very easy… God… …

 

Fade Out…

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

"I’m head of the class… I’m popular…”

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

Storm returns to the airwaves, with “Popular” by Nada Surf kicking in immediately to the sounds of boos and jeers from the crowd in Edmonton. Gold sparks begin to shoot up on the entrance way, and eventually Mike Van Siclen bounds out from the back with his SWF Hardcore Title belt draped over his shoulder, Tag Title belt strapped proudly around his waist and a smug grin on his face.

 

"The following triple threat contest is scheduled for two falls...with the first for the SWF Hardcore Championship, and the second for the SWF USJL Triple Crown Championship! Introducing first at this time...from Harrison, Illinois. He weighs two hundred and twenty six pounds...he is one half of the SWF Tag Team Champions...and the reigning and defending SWF HAAAARRRDCOOORRREEE CHAAAMPION...THE SPECTACLE...MIIIIIKE VAAAAAAAN SIIIIIICCCLLLEEEEEEEN!!!"

 

MVS stops, and holds his Hardcore Title aloft to another helping of boos from the Edmonton faithful. But the cocky Van Siclen could care less, as he shrugs his shoulders and continues his walk towards the ring.

 

"Welcome back to SWF Storm..." Cyclone Comet's voice suddenly breaks in. "...where we're preparing for triple threat, two fall, two title action. Or...something. As you can probably tell from the number of Maple Leaf signs in the crowd, we're still in Canada..."

 

"Unfortunately." Bobby Riley sneers.

 

"...and well, he's still Bobby Riley, as you can tell."

 

"Damn skippy!"

 

"Uh...ok...Mike Van Siclen on his way to the ring." mumbles Comet, trying to recover what's left of the duo's dignity. "He vowed many weeks ago to win every championship belt that the SWF possesses. He's got hold of two already...and tonight is his chance at a third. It's also the rematch Spike Jenkins rightfully deserves and Landon Maddix's 'rightful' shot at the Hardcore Title. A lot of issues involved in this match..."

 

"And the chance for Landon to become a Quadruple Crown Champion!"

 

"Wouldn't that just be...magical..."

 

MVS is by now in the ring, his two title belts in the possession of senior referee Ced Ordonez as he is busy warming up in one corner of the ring. A rather unflattering "Mike Van Suck!" chant is beginning to surface, but it doesn't get very far before the lights drop and a flurry of blue strobes flash from the entrance way. "Not Today" by Hotwire hits a matter of moments later, as the crowd begin to cheer the arrival of the 'underdog'.

 

"Ugh. What is this, a rave? What's with all the lights?"

 

"It's EXCITING~! Bobby. EXCITING~!"

 

 

"...and it's begun..."

 

Eventually Spike Jenkins steps through the curtain with his hood covered head looking down at the stage beneath his feet and waiting...

 

...and waiting...

 

 

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM!!!*

 

...for pyro to erupt either side of him, creating an impressive visual for the many fans clutching their mobile phones and getting some cheap pictures. The pyro dies down after a few seconds, whilst Spike walks purposefully down the aisle.

 

"From Hollywood, California...he weighs two hundred and twenty five pounds...the DOUBLE CHALLENGER..."HOOOLLLYWOOOOODD"...SPIIIIIIIIIKKEEEEEE JEEEEENKIIIIINSSSSSS!!!"

 

The crowd cheer, but Spike doesn't respond...too busy climbing into the ring...

 

 

...and getting clotheslined by Mike Van Siclen!!!

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

The bell frantically rings and the lights return to normal, as Spike is down on the mat and having the boots put to him by the Hardcore Champion...as a graphic appears on the screen, informing everyone that the first fall is indeed for the Hardcore Title.

 

"This match has begun already...but we're still waiting on the USJL Champion..."

 

"TRIPLE CROWN Champion! And I wouldn't worry Cyclone. It's not like Landon's in any rush to win the Hardcore Title and get stuck with a bunch of masochists forever, like poor Mike is."

 

Jenkins hasn't even been able to remove his jacket yet as MVS is still stomping away at the double challenger's head and chest area with reckless abandon, not wanting Spike to have a chance of mounting any offense. And with No Disqualifications, Ordonez is powerless to stop Van Siclen's heated onslaught...leaving Jenkins to get stomped into the mat, whilst suddenly "Megalomaniac" by Incubus begins to play, causing the already booing crowd to go into super-heat mode.

 

 

"PREPARE...FOR...LANDON!"

 

...WAAAAAHHHHH...

 

*DUM DUM*

 

The boos continue to near fever-pitch, as the USJL Triple Crown Champion steps out from the back carrying his JL belts and wearing the US belt, stopping on the rampway and looking down at the ring. Megan Skye emerges after Maddix and stands beside him...the duo watching on, as Van Siclen has finished stomping Spike and is now waiting for Landon to join the fray.

 

"And the third and final combatant..." Funyon suddenly breaks in. "...from Huron, South Dakota and weighing two hundred ten pounds. The reigning and defending SWF USJL TRRRRRIIIPLEEE CRRROOOWN CHAAAMPION...LAAAAANDOOOOOONN..."LA CUCARACHA"...MAAAAAADDIIIIIIXXXX!!!"

 

Smugly Maddix takes the opportunity to hold his gold in the air, getting a less than warm reception as he does so. In the ring, Van Siclen turns back to Spike and quickly boots him in the head before resuming his wait, while Landon continues walking down the ramp. His music has cut and the light show has stopped, as this match is OFFICIALLY officially underway...but as Maddix gets to the apron, he suddenly takes a detour, and begins to walk around the ring. Confused, MVS starts to yell down at Maddix...

 

 

...but gets spun around and nailed with a right hand from Spike, who is on his feet and FIRED UP~! Stinging right after stinging right connect to the chin of the Hardcore Champion, rocking him up against the ropes and slowly down towards the canvas as his legs begin to weaken beneath him. Taking advantage of this, Jenkins grabs Van Siclen by the arm and irish whips him across the ring, waiting for him to rebound back before charging with a Yakuza Kick...which MVS easily ducks. However Spike thinks quickly, continuing on and hitting the ropes before charging again...

 

*SMAAACK!*

 

...and connecting with an ALMIGHTY Yakuza Kick, flipping Van Siclen over onto his front!

 

In the meantime, Landon's detour has taken him all the way around ringside...and to the announcers table, where Bobby Riley is quick to get off his feet and pull Maddix a chair out. Comet meanwhile begrudgingly stands, while Maddix pops on a head-set and sits down.

 

"Hey guys...long time, no see!"

 

"Too long!" beams Riley. "Far too long!"

 

"This is becoming a bit of a habit, isn't it Landon?" sighs Comet. "Abandoning your matches to join us on commentary."

 

"Well, I've got no need to be in the ring right now. Spike and MVS have got it covered. Besides, it's not like I actually WANT the Hardcore Title. I only got the pin last week because a win is a win. Now this week, I don't HAVE to get the pin yet. I've still got another fall to go!"

 

"...Ingenious. Care to fill us in on what Alan Cla..."

 

"Stick to the match! You know the drill..."

 

Back in the ring, the tide has been turned on Jenkins and he is now down on the mat, courtesy of a lowblow that the cameras didn't spot. Meanwhile the cocky Hardcore Champion is grinning broadly towards some of his more vocal critics in the crowd, one of whom holding a "Softcore Siclen" sign. Eventually Mike turns away from the fans and begins to drag Spike to his feet, hitting a stiff forearm to rock the challenger. Spike swings back with a right hand to the gut, but another forearm smash from MVS stops him again, long enough for Mike to irish whip him towards the corner. Spike manages to put the brakes on before hitting the turnbuckles however, and climbs up to the middle rope while Van Siclen taunts the crowd.

 

"Van Siclen should be more worried with Spike Jenkins than this crowd!" predicts Comet.

 

"Why?" Landon disagrees. "The crowd stand more chance of beating Mike than Junkins does."

 

Eventually Van Siclen does turn around and notice Jenkins on the middle rope, but foolish charges in allowing Spike to leap off the ropes and catch MVS with a Mid-Rope Neckbreaker! But rather than go for a pin, Jenkins rolls quickly out of the ring and begins to scramble underneath the ring for some weaponry...re-emerging with hold of a singapore cane!

 

 

"YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

 

The blood thirsty crowd meet the weapon with cheers, as quickly Spike leaps to the apron while Van Siclen pulls himself to his feet. The double champion stumbles over to Jenkins and quickly swings with a right hand, which Spike blocks...

 

*THWWWAAACK!*

 

...before wrapping the cane over MVS's head!!!

 

 

"Ouch..." groans Maddix. "Poor guy."

 

Somehow Van Siclen stays up, but he's clearly dis-orientated, as he staggers back over...

 

*THWWWAAACK!*

 

...into another cane shot, this time dropping him to the mat! Spike quickly enters the ring, still holding the cane as he waits for Van Siclen to get up...taking a moment to glare down at Maddix, while Van Siclen slowly regains his feet and turns around...

 

 

...as Spike swings but misses with the cane, MVS able to duck just in time and push Jenkins sternum first into the turnbuckles. The challenger staggers out, straight into a waistlock from the champion who almost immediately pops the hips, and takes Spike over with a german suplex before bridging into a pin...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

KICKOUTATTWO!

 

Both men quickly scramble to their feet and Van Siclen goes straight for the cane which lays dormant on the mat...gleefully retrieving it, and turning around...

 

*SMAAACK!*

 

...as Spike gives Van Siclen his Last Dance! MVS is down, and Spike quickly jumps onto him with a lateral press...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

...no hook of the leg allowing MVS an easy escape.

 

"Who does Spike Jenkins think he is...trying to beat Mike Van Siclen with a superkick and without hooking the leg." sneers Riley.

 

"I agree." agrees Maddix. "Maybe he should have choked him out, like he did to me!"

 

Spike helps Van Siclen up to his feet and drives a knee to the gut, before grabbing the singapore cane from off the mat and lining up the head of the Hardcore Champion. However, he takes too long and gives Mike chance to dive forward with a spear takedown. Spike manages to keep hold of the cane, but it does little good as Mike mounts Jenkins and begins to fire away with a flurry of right hand...the look on his face indicating that Spike may have pissed off the champion. A good five or six punches connect before MVS rolls off his opponent and right out of the ring...bypassing the announce table and grabbing a vacated steel chair from the timekeeper's table.

 

"And now Van Siclen wants to get HARDCORE~!" booms Comet

 

"Does he always do that?" Landon asks Riley, a little shocked at the sudden outburst.

 

Turning to the crowd, Van Siclen holds the chair aloft to a mixed reaction which he simply grins at before turning to re-enter the ring...

 

*CRAAACK!*

 

...but as he does, Spike baseball slides into him and consequently the chair!!! Both Van Siclen and chair fly backwards as Spike rolls the rest of the way out of the ring, following out after the dis-orientated champion. However before getting to him, Jenkins' attention is caught by Landon Maddix, who has stood up from his chair.

 

"C'mon Spike!" snarls Maddix towards Spike. "Wha'chu gonna do...choke me out? Come on!"

 

With a wry grin, Spike reaches over to the table and picks up a pitcher of water which prompts Maddix to take a precautionary step back. Jenkins however doesn't want to smash it over Landon's head...instead simply taking a chug of the water for refreshment.

 

 

Oh, and then throwing the rest over Megan Skye!

 

 

"YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!"

 

The crowd erupt as poor Megan is DRENCHED...which of course means a wet t-shirt, by no means silencing the crowd. Maddix meanwhile is furious, pulling off his head-set and yelling at Jenkins, who simply shrugs as if he did nothing. But Spike doesn't see Mike Van Siclen coming...

 

*CRAAACK!*

 

...and SMASHING the steel chair over his back!!!

 

"AH what a VILE chair-shot!" gasps Comet.

 

Spike sprawls forward and across the announce table with his teeth gritted in pain...as Maddix takes the opportunity to jab Spike with a right hand while Van Siclen drags Spike up and throws him back into the ring. Sliding the chair in after his adversary, MVS kneels down and looks underneath the ring for some more weaponry. However, instead of emerging with a weapon, Van Siclen stand back up holding...

 

...a roll of electrical tape!?!

 

"What the he...electrical tape?" mumbles Comet, as Maddix re-joins the announce team.

 

"God, I hope Van Siclen drops that jerk on his head." Maddix snarls. "'Cause if he doesn't, I will."

 

"Well, there's no anchor tied to your ass, Citizen."

 

"Hey!" Riley jumps in. "That's the USJL Triple Crown Champion you're talking to!"

 

Rolling back into the ring, Mike drops the roll of tape as he sees Spike Jenkins struggling to his feet and nails a boot to the gut before pulling him into DDT position. But rather than simply drop Spike to the mat, MVS quickly spins his body around and drives Spike to the mat by the hair with a Code Red! Spike may be out, but Van Siclen remembers the tape...and forgoes the pinfall attempt, instead grabbing the roll and starting to tear some of the tape off.

 

"What's he gonna do? Tie Spike's hands together? Real brave." sneers Comet.

 

"If he was smart, he'd tape up Spike's nose and mouth." beams Riley. "Heck, I'd enjoy that."

 

"You're not the only one Bobby." Landon agrees.

 

Now the tape is ready to be used...all Mike needs to do is decide how. Looking around he notices the steel chair...and ever so slowly, a wry grin becomes a sneering, slightly sadistic smile. Jenkins meanwhile is crawling over towards Van Siclen, and receives a kick to the head once he close enough. Now Spike is down, Van Siclen strolls over and grabs the chair, placing it on top of Spike's face, before taking the tape...

 

 

...and...

 

 

...and taping the chair to Spike's head!?!

 

"Oh...even BETTER!" Riley practically joygasms.

 

"I'll give him this...it's certainly an improvement looks wise." Maddix sneers, enjoying this too.

 

The crowd are murmuring in shock at Van Siclen's actions, as the Hardcore Champion crudely wraps the roll of tape time and time again around both Spike's head and the chair, leaving him unable to see...but more importantly with a steel chair stuck to his face.

 

 

"MIKE VAN SUCK! MIKE VAN SUCK! MIKE VAN SUCK!"

 

With the job done, Van Siclen smugly stands back up and admires his handiwork, as Jenkins defiantly pulls himself up slowly to his feet, despite not being able to see past the steel taped to him. And as Spike staggers around and throws errant punches at thin air, Van Siclen gradually gets even smugger as he plans out his next move. Eventually Jenkins stops swinging and decides to reach out for Mike, who keeps his distance until deciding to fire off a spinning wheelkick...

 

*CRAAACK!*

 

...into the chair covered face of Jenkins!!!

 

"This is just a massacre!" laments Cyclone. "Citizen Jenkins can't see a thing...and every move has the added impact of that chair on his face!"

 

"Great or what?" Maddix chuckles.

 

Spike is down, and Van Siclen takes his sweet time about dropping down and placing a finger on his chest...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR...

 

 

NOSPIKEGETSASHOULDERUP!!!

 

"Spike kicks out!" booms Comet. "Citizen Jenkins is fighting for his life!"

 

MVS is shocked and glares for a moment at Ordonez...but soon remembers the control he's in, and chuckles to himself before patting Ced on the head. Jenkins is still down, which allows Van Siclen to stroll over...

 

*CRAAACK!*

 

...and legdrop the chair into Jenkins' face!!! The move hurts his leg slightly, but Mike shrugs that off and makes another cocky cover...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SHOULDERUPAGAIN!!!

 

Again MVS looks a little miffed that Jenkins kicked out, but soon gets over it and climbs to his feet...this time pulling Jenkins up with him. Spike is too late in swinging with a punch, as Van Siclen has moved out of the way in time...all the way out of the ring in fact...to retrieve a SECOND steel chair.

 

"Ok...now, this may be too far."

 

"Nonsense Cyclops!" Landon chuckles. "You don't say that when Aecas and the like are using glass sticks and stuff. That's just a steel chair."

 

MVS rolls back in and quickly lines up Jenkins, who is stumbling around trying to find his opponent...

 

 

*CRRRRRAAAAAAACK!*

 

...BUT FINDS ONLY A CHAIR SHOT TO THE CHAIR, TO THE FACE!!!

 

 

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

"Sweet Zombie Jesus!" wails Comet. "Citizen Jenkins has GOT to have a concussion!!!"

 

"Oh well...one down."

 

Jenkins is completely out cold from the vile collection of steel near-caving his face in, and the Hardcore Champion knows all he needs to do is make the cover.

 

 

But, apparently that would be too easy, as Van Siclen wags his finger with a smile, and starts to slam the chair on the mat again, wanting to inflict some more punishment. However, after ten seconds of waiting, Spike still isn't moving...so Mike angrily tosses the chair aside and starts to haul him up to his feet.

 

"Citizen Van Siclen may be making a mistake guys...he should have pinned Jenkins when he had the chance."

 

"Ah, I wouldn't worry Cyclops. Spike's done. This is just the 'exclamation mark', like they do on the Boulevard."

 

Once Jenkins is up to his feet, Van Siclen effortlessly pushes him into the corner so that Spike is 'facing' out into the crowd before driving a knee into the kidneys. Spike shows no signs of a fightback, so Mike takes his sweet time about strolling towards the opposite corner, jawing with some parts of the crowd as he goes...before turning and charging towards Jenkins. However, as Van Siclen leaps and twists through the air, Spike staggers back around so he's facing into the ring...

 

 

*CRAAACK!*

 

...and Van Siclen hits The Answer, but in the process smashes his head into the chair, causing both he and Jenkins to taste the steel and slump to the mat!

 

"Well, so much for that exclamation mark." sneers Cyclone.

 

"Oh well...looks like it's time for me to pick the bones." sighs Landon in response, before removing his head-set and dropping it to the floor...walking past the slightly-less-soaked-than-before Megan and strolling towards the ring. The crowd see him and break into boos, as the un-caring Maddix rolls into the ring and looks down at Mike and Spike.

 

"LANDON SUCKS! LANDON SUCKS! LANDON SUCKS!"

 

With a wry grin Maddix drags Van Siclen away from the corner and drops to his knees to make a cover...

 

 

...but stops, looking at a cut just above MVS' eye and shaking his head. Standing back up, Maddix walks over to Jenkins for some reason and pulls him away from the corner too, looking down at the two near unconscious opponents...

 

...and putting Van Siclen's arm over Spike! Ordonez looks confused, but has no choice but to make the count...

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEE!!!

 

*DING!*

 

 

"What the hell was that!?!" snaps Comet over the booing crowd. "Maddix just helped Van Siclen win!"

 

"I told you Landon didn't want that title...he doesn't want the night in, night out blood loss."

 

"He's a PUSSY~!" Comet snaps again, clearly a little miffed.

 

Ordonez still looks confused, but raises Van Siclen's limp arm anyway to signal his victory.

 

"The winner of the first fall...and STILL SWF Hardcore Champion...MIIIKEEE VAAAAAN SIIIICLLLEEEEEN!!!"

 

*DING!*

 

The bell rings to start the second fall, and immediately Ordonez realizes that Spike's still taped to the chair...or vice versa...and begins to concentrate on untaping it. Meanwhile, Landon grabs Van Siclen by the hair and pulls him up into a seated position...hooking one arm underneath his chin, before DRIVING some stiff right hands directly to the cut across MVS' eyebrow.

 

"YEAH!" beams Riley. "Who's the pussy now Comet? Who's the pussy now!?!"

 

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

 

The punches continue for a few more seconds before Landon releases MVS, letting the Hardcore Champion flop backwards to the mat. A quick close-up of Mike's face shows everyone that the cut has been successfully widened, and blood is now trickling down Van Siclen's face. In the meantime, Ordonez is still trying to untape the chair from Jenkins head, but having trouble with the tape stuck to Spike's hair.

 

 

"LANDON SUCKS! LANDON SUCKS! LANDON SUCKS!"

 

Another unsavory chant starts up, as Landon scoops Van Siclen up from the canvas and quickly boots him in the gut, before locking on a front facelock. MVS is unable to counter, allowing Maddix to take Van Siclen up into the air for a suplex...but releases hold of the tights in mid-move, and brings Van Siclen down with the Landslide. But, rather than go for the cover, the defending champion rolls up to his knees and holds his arms out in cockiness.

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

"Beautiful move. Alan Clark beware!"

 

Standing back up, Maddix lines Van Siclen up and drops a methodical knee to the head, before yelling at Ordonez and making the cover. Ordonez takes a moment to turn, but does eventually make the count...

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

KICKOUTATTWOBYMVS!

 

With a sigh, Maddix stands back up and drives a boot to Van Siclen's face...before walking over to Spike, who still has the chair taped to him, although only just. Now smiling, Landon balls up his fist and prepares to strike...

 

 

...but Ordonez steps in, stopping Maddix!

 

"Wha...get the hell out of the way!" yells Riley.

 

"Ced's just doing his job."

 

"Yeah, well, maybe he should do it somewhere else."

 

 

"....."

 

Understandably angry, Maddix starts to yell at Ordonez to get out of the way...but the senior referee is unwavering, so Maddix concedes and turns back to MVS, who is now up on his feet. Quickly Maddix swings out with a clothesline, which Van Siclen ducks whilst hoisting Landon over his back...

 

...and dropping him with the Van Slaminator!!! Quickly MVS turns, and hooks Maddix for the cover...

 

 

 

...but Ordonez is still tied up with Spike!

 

"Van Siclen's got him!" gasps Riley. "He should be the champion...not...not that I want Landon to lose...but...I don't want Mike to lose...so..."

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

"...nevermind..."

 

Wondering what's going on, Van Siclen stands up from the cover and walks over to Ordonez, physically spinning him around before scrambling back over and covering Maddix again...

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE...

 

 

 

 

 

NOLANDONGETSASHOULDERUP!!!

 

"OH! Van Siclen was half a second away from being a triple champion!" gasps Cyclone. "The delay was just enough for Maddix!"

 

MVS can't believe his luck, and glares over at Ordonez as he gets to his feet. Landon is up a matter of seconds after Van Siclen, getting a knee to the gut before MVS takes him by the hair and tights, tossing him forward...

 

*CLUUUNK!*

 

...shoulder first into the ring-post! A mixed reaction greets the move...some booing Van Siclen's heelish move, some cheering the fact it was Maddix on the receiving end. Landon staggers out holding his shoulder meanwhile, getting spun around by MVS who seamlessly hooks Maddix up and takes him over with a SNAP suplex!

 

"Citizen Van Siclen seems to be in control." observes Cyclone. "Surprising really, considering his opponent has been sitting on his ass for the past few minutes."

 

"I wouldn't complain if I were you. He carried your ass!"

 

Still clutching his shoulder, Maddix remains on the mat whilst Van Siclen lounges back in the corner, waiting for Landon to get back up.

 

Whilst this is going on, Ced has managed to un-tape most of the tape from around Spike's head...and more importantly, got the chair off of Spike's face. However Jenkins is still groggy from the numerous times the chair smashed into his face so can't go after his two opponents.

 

"MIKE VAN SUCK! MIKE VAN SUCK! MIKE VAN SUCK!"

 

The 'innovative' chants re-start, as Van Siclen strolls out of the corner and helps Maddix up to his feet...which turns out to be a mistake, as Maddix grabs the tights and tugs MVS into the ropes. Van Siclen manages to hold on though, stopping himself before charging in of his own accord. But the result is the same, with Maddix catching MVS coming with a hurricanrana...straight into a pinning combination...

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

SPIKEBREAKSTHECOUNT!

 

Back in the match, Jenkins stalks Maddix who staggers back to his feet and turns around into a flurry of right hands from the fired-up challenger! The crowd are almost as fired-up as Spike now, reacting to each punch with an 'OOOOH!' as the onslaught continues. Eventually Jenkins stops, taking Maddix by the arm and attempting to irish whip him...but Landon reverses, sending Jenkins flying across the ring. As Jenkins rebounds, Maddix remembers what worked mere moments ago and leaps up to hit a hurricanrana...

 

...but Spike reads it like a book, catching the helpless USJL Champion in mid-air! In horror Maddix reaches out for some sort of escape, but there is none as Spike tugs him down with a VILE Wild Bomb! Landon literally bounces off the mat as Jenkins drops into a cover...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR...

 

 

 

NOSHOULDERUP!!!

 

"Nearfall from the Wild Bomb...shades of our World Champion Danny Williams." points out Comet.

 

"Yeah, that's all it was. Shades."

 

Quickly Jenkins gets back up and lines up Landon...but notices Mike Van Siclen getting to his feet and the want for revenge takes over. Spike charges towards the Hardcore Champion who swings out with a clothesline, but Spike ducks and kicks Van Siclen in the back of the knee, dropping him to the other. Landon is back up, so Jenkins drops him with a running right hand, before charging back at Van Siclen...

 

*SMACK!*

 

...with a Dangerous Wizard which causes MVS to sprawls throat first across the middle rope. Again Spike turns away from his man though to go for the other and swings with a clothesline at Maddix. The USJL Chap ducks under though and runs forward towards Van Siclen, taking both the middle and top ropes with a hand, and using them to whip around with a 605!

 

"605!" gleams Riley. "The call connected! You're now through to South Dakota!"

 

"Oh great. Are you going to do that everytime?"

 

"Meh. I'll probably mix it up a bit each week."

 

Van Siclen crashes back into the center of the ring, as Maddix pulls himself back up on the apron. But before he can capitalize Spike charges and knocks Landon off the apron, to the concrete floor, much to the delight of the crowd. Now Spike has MVS where he wants him, motioning for the Hardcore Champion to get back up, which he slowly begins to do. And once up, he's in perfect position for another Last Dance...

 

*SMACK!*

 

...which connects, knocking Mike to the mat! Promptly Spike makes the cover, as Ced slides over...

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

KICKOUTATTWO!!

 

"SPIKE! SPIKE! SPIKE!"

 

The crowd are right behind Jenkins, as he gets back to his feet...dragging MVS up with him by the hair. It's not long after that Maddix rolls into the ring however, nailing Spike from behind with a double axehandle as MVS also strikes Jenkins. As Spike drops to his knees, Landon stops MVS...whispering something in his ear, which most likely are not sweet nothings. Shrugging, Van Siclen pulls away from Maddix and places Jenkins' throat over the top rope, picking up his legs and hooking them up so Jenkins is left helplessly hanging over the top. Meanwhile Landon is sprinting into the opposite ropes in-line with Van Siclen, leaping over his back...

 

...and coming down across the side of Spike, driving an elbow into the ribs!

 

"Coming In For Landon! Landon Maddix usually does that move with Todd Royal..."

 

"Not while the Wayward Sons keep injuring him!"

 

Spike holds his ribs and slumps towards the mat...but Van Siclen drags him up to his feet, slamming a forearm into the ribs before irish whipping him across the ring. Quickly Landon and MVS congregate together and plan a double-team move, but Spike puts pay to that, by hitting a desperation double flying clothesline!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!"

 

All three men are quickly back up, and it's Spike who has the advantage as he starts to throw rights and lefts at each opponent. Landon is the first to fight back though, clotheslining Spike down...before turning to Van Siclen and hitting him with a Dropsault, landing on top of Spike for a cover...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR...

 

 

VANSICLENBREAKSTHEPIN!!

 

Having broken the pin, Van Siclen continues to stomp away on Maddix while Jenkins pulls himself up behind the Hardcore Champion, and sneakily pulls him into a school-boy roll-up...

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

LANDONBREAKSTHEPIN!

 

"So close! Landon could have lost the title had he not dove over and broke that fall." observes Comet.

 

"Landon's far too smart to let that happen."

 

Quickly Maddix brings Jenkins up to his feet and scoops him for a slam, but Jenkins floats over and pushes Maddix forward...straight into Van Siclen, who has just got to his feet. They collide heads and recoil back, straight into a pair of clotheslines by Jenkins which knock them both down! Suddenly Jenkins is on the ascendancy, pulling Maddix off the mat and irish whipping him into the corner with authority quickly, before dragging Van Siclen up. Spike looks to do the same to Van Siclen, whipping him towards Maddix...

 

...but MVS puts the brakes on quickly, and charges back at Jenkins with a big clothesline of his own. Jenkins manages to duck that though and immediately leaps at MVS for the Bad Beat, but Mike knows what's coming and backsteps it, causing Jenkins to harmlessly flop to the mat. Back up almost immediately, Jenkins is dis-orientated and walks straight into MVS's clutches, as he ducks his head and fluidly flips Jenkins over...into the Van Slaminator!

 

"He caught him! Citizen Van Siclen is moments away from being a triple champion!"

 

"Yeah, but look...Landon's going up top!"

 

Indeed, Maddix is clambering to the top rope, as the unsuspecting Van Siclen drops into a cover on Spike...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

"INCOMIIIIING!!!"

 

 

 

 

LANDONBREAKSTHECOUNTWITHASWANDIVEHEADBUTT!!!!!

 

"OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

"Well, we couldn't come to Edmonton without a diving headbutt, could we?" chuckles Comet.

 

"Is that all you can say after such a dazzling, mind-numbing...awe-inspiring..."

 

"...yeah, ok, we get the point."

 

Van Siclen, having taken the brunt of the headbutt, rolls off Spike and clutches his shoulder in pain...whilst Maddix gets back to his feet, but collapses back into the corner in his dazed condition. Back up gets Jenkins, clutching his neck from the Van Slaminator, but with enough left to charge at Maddix...

 

...who gets a boot up, before hopping to the middle rope, ready for the Crash Landon. Jenkins knows exactly what Maddix is planning though and NAILS him in the gut with a right, followed by a second. Maddix is able to smack Spike with a kick though, but Spike hits another right, causing Landon to topple over the ropes and to the apron.

 

"The fatigue is really kicking in now Bobby. All three men have taken a lot of punishment in this one..."

 

"But Landon's the freshest of the three!"

 

"That's true...but Van Siclen is back up!"

 

Indeed the Hardcore Champion is up, smelling yet more gold as he creeps up behind Jenkins and WAFFLES him with a clothesline, sending Jenkins sprawling from the ring...right past Landon, and beside Megan Skye who has scuttled over to check on 'her man'. With Spike disposed of, Van Siclen turns to Maddix and tries to pull him up to his feet on the apron despite the pain in his right shoulder. Getting him up, Mike hooks Landon up looking to suplex him back into the ring...and hoists Maddix up, with his teeth gritted in pain. Just to be a dick, MVS decides to hold Maddix upside down for a while, letting him think about his ultimate destination...

 

 

...but that's all the invitation Megan needs to grab Mike's legs and trip him, causing Maddix to land on top of MVS for a cover...

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LANDONHASTHETIGHTS!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...AND THE THREE!!!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

 

"Aw...son of a...a...villain."

 

The crowd are incensed as "Megalomaniac" hits again and Maddix scrambles free from the ring, greeted by the waiting arms of Megan Skye and a wet towel to the face.

 

"The winner of the second fall...and STILL SWF USJL TRRRIPLE CRRROWN CHAAAMPION...LAAAAANDOOON "LA CUCARACHA"...MAAAAADDIIIIIXXX!!!"

 

 

Quickly Ced Ordonez retrieves the Triple Crown of belts and gets them to the celebrating Maddix, whilst Van Siclen is hounding him with abuse from the ring. But hey...he's still got his Hardcore Title to console him.

 

"Alan Clark was right...this kid is INCAPABLE of cheating!" bemoans Comet. "It's like a disease!"

 

"Technically Landon didn't cheat...it was Megan who cheated."

 

"And that makes it OK!?!"

 

"What are you gonna do? Disqualify Megan?"

 

"She deserves punishment, that's for sure."

 

"I'm sure Landon will...ahem...'deal with that'...if you know what I mean."

 

Riley starts winking like a madman, whilst Landon and Megan are hurriedly escaping to their dressing room, with Spike Jenkins up and looking for a little revenge. But he's going to be severely disappointed, as Landon is at the top of the ramp holding his belts aloft as best possible...while in the ring, Van Siclen dejectedly raises his belts too, the gold filled scene leading straight into another commercial break...

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

SWF Storm is back on the air in three.

 

Two.

 

One.

 

"RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

 

The raucous sound of cheering fans is the first thing to greet our ears as SWF Storm explodes back onto the air! The cameras pan around the arena, catching the seething and screaming masses, who pack the arena from ringside to rafters. And they come bearing signs, signs such as "Tom 'FUCKING!' Allison!" and "Deathwish > Silent." There's also a plethora of messages for the lower carders. "Shove Maddix's Legs Up His Arse!", along with "Lezaire = Greatest. Wrestler. Ever." and "Cortez Is Just Lucky." are among them, but the signs all pan out of view as the cameras swing down towards the announce table, where everyone's favourite announcing duo waits.

 

"Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen. I'm CYCLOOOOOOOOONE COMET!" the exuberant superhero yells into his headset, prompting his announcing partner to wince in pain.

 

"And I'm Bobby Riley." he grimaces. "Storm's been a hell of a mess so far, especially considering my MY Superior One ended up losing in some... shock, out of nowhere showdown with Dace Night! I can't believe they're letting that stand." he finishes, pouting.

 

"It was a surprise indeed, but your wires are crossed at the moment, Robert, as that match isn't now! This match is the classic story of little David versus evil Goliath, and it shall be contested as our main event!"

 

"It's Janus and the only guy possibly more screwed in the head than he is. And after what Janus did to Toxxic last show, I don't think he'll go easy on Clark... especially with the ICTV title on the line."

 

"Considering Citizen Janus also had some ominous things to say last show, we have to wonder WHERE the Hell Machine's attention truly lies. On the matches... or on Danny Williams and the higher piece of gold so far out of his reach?"

 

Riley coughs something that sounds suspiciously like 'glass ceiling' under his breath, and Comet gives him a dirty look for daring to insinuate things. But the camera swings away from the pair of announcers to the ring, where everyone's favourite tuxedo-clad announcer stands with, microphone in hand. The opening notes of Bon Jovi's "Wanted Dead Or Alive" echo through the arena, and it's nearly to the point where the lyrics begin...

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a singles match scheduled for ONE fall, and is for the SWF Intercontinental Television championship! Introducing first..."

 

...when with an explosive BOOM, lightning and thunder blaze around the stage! Filling the arena with noise, it makes the fans scream in excitement and fear. As the noise and light show dies down, there is an almost eerie silence for several long moments, as if the fans wonder.

 

"Smile..."

 

And the hard beats of "Smile" by Taproot blaze out of the speakers. The fans burst into cheers as lights circle the crowd, and the familiar figure of Alan Clark steps out from behind the curtain. Despite his opponent tonight, his eyes are still intense and determined. He steps down the ramp towards the ring, completely focused. Funyon lifts his microphone as Clark slaps hands with a fan here and there.

 

"He hails from Long Beach California! Standing at six-foot-one and weighing two HUNDRED and TWENTY five pounds! One half of the Waaaaaywaaaaard Sons.....ALAAAAAAAAN CLAAAAAAAAARK!"

 

Rolling under the bottom rope, the man known also as Apostle and Bloodshed mounts the turnbuckles, standing on the second rope. His music fades as he takes the crowd in, quietly intense, and they respond with cheers. Carefully, Alan hops off the turnbuckles to ask a question of referee Sexton Hardcastle, as one-by-one the lights begin to go out.

 

"Listen to the crowd cheer this goof." Riley snorts.

 

"They cheer Citizen Clark for a reason, Robert - he can win."

 

"Not against this."

 

The ominous sound of a buzzing alarm fills the arena, and red strobes begin to flash in time with the noise. The cheers turn to boos as a bright red word flashes on the Smarktron, each time coming closer and closer to being legible. The sirens begin to fade out as the ominous sound of a tolling bell signifies the complete resolution of the words on the Smarktron.

 

[sTATUS: RELEASED]

 

Blue pyrotechnics begin to filter up from the sides of the ramp, showering it with azure sparks. Two spotlights swing around the crowd as if searching for the familiar, ominous figure this music heralds. Fear Factory's "Resurrection" echoes out over the speakers, just audible over the heavy and constant boos.

 

"Consumed with memories...

That preceded today...

Given a chance to bereave...

Life that's slipping AWAY!"

 

And the crowd's booing intensifies as the curtain is swept aside, revealing the trenchcoat-less figure of the Hell Machine! He stalks out from the backstage area, his Intercontinental Television title slung over his shoulder. Ominous red eyes stare at the ring and Alan Clark as the big man stalks down the ramp, each fountain of blue pyrotechnics going out as he passes.

 

"And his opponent, at seven-foot-two and three HUNDRED and SIXTY pounds! He is the reigning SWF Intercontinental Television champion, the Hell Machine...JAAAAAAAAANUUUUUUUUUUUUS!"

 

"Revive all my fears!

Revive wasted tears!

Revive void within!

Revive once again!"

 

The seven footer walks slowly around the ring, shrugging the ICTV belt off his shoulder onto the timekeeper's desk. He slowly turns and ascends the stairs, noting with a grim relish the eyes of Alan Clark show no fear. The big man steps over the top rope and thrusts his arms straight up into the air... prompting a SCREAM from the fans as blue pillars of fire EXPLODE from the turnbuckles! All the lights come back up as one as the sound of "Resurrection" fades out.

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

"Considering Citizen Clark gives up over a foot and a hundred pounds to his opponent, Robert, he'd best work on his usual leg-injuring strategy if he has a hope of survival!"

 

"Pfft! Janus is used to attacks on his legs. He knows what to look for, Comet."

 

The Hell Machine steps towards Clark, staring with unnerving focus into the eyes of his opponent. Without blinking, Alan fires off a stiff kick towards his opponent's left knee, and Janus simply steps back to avoid it. A second attempt to advance is met with a second warding-away kick. When the big man advances again, he catches the anticipated kick with his huge hands, only to get his brain rattled by a quick enzugiri by his opponent. He staggers only slightly however, but the time it takes him to recover gives Clark the chance to fire off a kick that actually hits the Hell Machine's knee. But Janus simply presses forward...

 

...and bashes his skull into the Wayward Son's! The headbutt sends the smaller man reeling back, and one huge boot to the face later puts Clark on the mat. Janus looks to follow up his blows with a huge leg drop, but his opponent rolls out of the way and clambers to his feet. The Hell Machine looks up from his new sitting position only to get kicked square in the face, the impact knocking him flat. Alan Clark looks to take advantage by hitting the ropes and back flipping - looking for a lionsault... but Janus has already arisen. Clark manages to land on his feet, and feels the Hell Machine's arms reaching to hook his. The big man gets one arm hooked in preparation for a full nelson suplex, but the Wayward Son flails his other arm to avoid it... and gets SPIKED on his head with an ugly half-nelson suplex instead!

 

"Halfway to the Sydney Harbour Bridge already!" Riley cackles at his own joke.

 

"It seems avoiding the full nelson wasn't good enough to save Citizen Clark from THAT move, Robert."

 

"No kidding. Clark's head HAS to be ringing like a bell."

 

Riley isn't far from the truth, as even this early in the match, the hellacious power of Janus has left Alan Clark without his wits. While the Hell Machine nestles down in one corner with a vicious smile on his face, the Wayward Son pulls himself up in the opposite corner, prompting his opponent to explode across the ring like a charging bull. But the heavy sound of boot on canvas alerts Alan to his predicament, and he throws himself out of the way just in time.

 

*BONG!*

 

The ring shakes from the impact of three hundred and sixty pounds of muscle hitting the steel post, and as Janus reels back, Clark bursts into action. He buries two hard kicks into the back of the Hell Machine's left knee, cutting that one leg down. The big man tries to rise, but the Wayward Son snaps a kick into the right for good measure to keep his opponent on his knees. Backing away as far as he dared, aware of the Hell Machine's resilience, Alan charges forward - flipping onto his hands, doing a cartwheel... and slamming a dropkick into the back of the big man's head, snapping it forward into the turnbuckle!

 

"ONE HIT WONDER!" Comet exults.

 

"That's all he is." Riley snorts. "Janus will be up in seconds."

 

"I doubt that Robert, even with Citizen Janus' resilience, because... oh my."

 

As Alan scrambles to his feet, still holding his head from that ugly half-nelson suplex, he looks up as the Hell Machine turns around. Red eyes stare down into the face of Clark for several moments, and the smaller man shows absolutely no fear by slamming a knife-edged chop into the bigger man's chest! Janus simply tilts his head as if watching a bug, as Clark slams another chop into his chest, and another. The next chop is caught, and with frightening ease the seven-footer whips his opponent across the ring. Spreading his arms a little as his opponent comes back, the Hell Machine scoops the Wayward Son into the air for a powerbomb...

 

...and Clark simply throws a knife-edged chop into the bridge of Janus' nose to temporarily stun him! He locks his legs around the big monster's head and falls back, managing to pull his opponent over with a huge hurricanrana! Alan ends up sitting on the Hell Machine's chest as Hardcastle dives down to make the count.

 

ONE!

...

....NO CHANCE!

 

Rather than kick out, the Hell Machine just reaches up and clamps a huge hand around his opponent's throat, choking him. Clark instantly tries to fight his way free, but Janus pushes the smaller man off balance and away before sitting up. A quick kick to the face puts him on his back again for a split second, and that second is all the Wayward Son needs to soccer kick the side of the Hell Machine's left knee! A clear grimace of pain crosses the monster's features for a second as he sits up again, but Alan Clark is nowhere to be seen. The giant begins to rise again - when a hand grabs hold of his hair and he's bulldogged back into the canvas. But Janus is not to be kept down so easily, and immediately starts pushing himself back up... straight into a front face lock as Clark lifts an arm and spins around for a neckbreaker, taking the Hell Machine back down.

 

"And Citizen Clark is Getting Amped here, Robert! He'll need it to keep Citizen Janus down."

 

"Like he ever will. Look, Janus is already getting up."

 

"Not if Citizen Clark has anything to say about it..."

 

Janus only manages to make it up to hands and knees, before Clark flattens him back to the mat with a beautiful standing moonsault. He rolls down the big man's body, rising up and stepping his foot into the back of the Hell Machine's left knee. The Wayward Son lifts the leg up and SLAMS it down, stomping his foot hard into the knee joint, and relishing the grunt of pain he hears from his fallen foe. The crowd cheers for the move, and Clark lifts the big man's leg up and does it again, before letting go and stepping back, the match firmly under his control. Janus pushes himself upright, already beginning to favour the left knee. But as Alan dashes in to continue his assault, the Hell Machine turns and scoops him out off the canvas, flipping the Wayward Son over and just smashing him down on one knee with the Crash and Burn!

 

But he delivered the blow with his left knee, and the seven-footer clearly doesn't relish the pain that registers. As Clark clutches his back on the canvas, Janus shakes out his left leg with a faint growl, and begins delivering VICIOUS stomps with his right leg, straight into the heart of the Wayward Son. The crowd boos as the Hell Machine looks to punch a hole through Alan with his heavy stomps, but the big man relents, drags Alan up by a handful of hair, and lifts him onto his shoulders. And the monster begins to spin around - slowly, at first - but beginning to pick up speed. He then flings out his opponent's legs behind him, and falls to the mat to CRACK the Wayward Son's head against his shoulder with a Diamond Cutter! With his thoughts in chaos, Alan Clark tries to figure out where he is, as the Hell Machine folds the smaller man's legs up and leans down, looking for a pinfall.

 

ONE!

...

....

.....

TWO!!

...KICKOUT!

 

"Janus could've had the pinfall if not for his bad knee!" Riley mutters.

 

"Oh, please! Citizen Clark kicked out of that, Robert. You saw it!"

 

"Only because of the knee." the ambiguously gay one mutters.

 

Clark groans and holds his head on the mat, as Janus rises to his full seven foot two height and lifts his arm into the air. As the Hell Machine wiggles his fingers in a signal for the chokeslam, Alan begins to push himself up, holding his head. Whether he hears the crowd's shouted warnings or not is irrelevant, as the Wayward Son turns around straight into a huge hand that claps around his throat. But out of instinct, he kicks his leg hard into Janus' knee! The Hell Machine releases the choke and grimaces, so Alan follows it up with a kick to the stomach, and hooks the big man's head and left leg. As the crowd watches in dramatic silence, Clark lets out a primal scream and heaves with all his might, beginning to elevate the Hell Machine off the canvas...

 

...and SLAM HIM BACK DOWN ON HIS LEFT KNEE WITH THE PARTY CRASHER! The crowd roars and Comet shoots up out of his seat in exuberant surprise, Janus' eyes narrow in obvious pain and he wraps both his hands around his left knee. Kneeling on the right, he lifts his eyes to look up at the grinning Alan Clark, and the Wayward Son's smile fades, as he notices nothing but rage in his opponent's eyes. Clark throws another kick at his opponent's left knee, but the Hell Machine's left arm snaps out to grab it, stopping the kick dead. Alan throws his free leg in a kick at his opponent's face, but that's caught as well... and the Hell Machine moves in one smooth and vicious motion. Janus slides to his feet and falls back, catapulting the Wayward Son over halfway across the ring and face first into one turnbuckle with a catapult. The crowd winces, and as Clark slumps against the turnbuckle, he hears thumping feet behind him.

 

"And here comes Citizen Janus, perhaps looking for another Gore, Robert!"

 

"Kill him! Kill him DEAD!" Riley exults as the Hell Machine storms across the ring.

 

"That IS the purpose of as you say, killing someone, Robert."

 

Having heard the footsteps, the Wayward Son plants his hands on the ropes and springs himself up, sitting on the top turnbuckle to stare out at the fans. But when there's no *BONG* of flesh on steel, he gets an awful feeling in his stomach. The feeling increases as he hears the ropes creak, and his body pulled off the top rope and into a torture rack. And it simply gets worse as the Hell Machine twists, easily tosses Clark off his shoulders, and sits out to deliver a VICIOUS second-rope Towerhacker Bomb! Sitting down in the corner with Alan folded up with arms pinned; Janus waits coolly for Hardcastle to make the count. It only takes scant seconds for Sexton to check if any part of Clark is under the ropes, before he starts the count.

 

ONE!

...

....

.....

TWO!!

...

....

.....KICKOUT!!!

 

The crowd lets out a burst of cheers as the Wayward Son manages to pull an arm out from the pinning predicament and thrust it into the air! Janus glowers down at Alan's body and pushes it away, rising ominously and stepping over Clark to stare at Sexton Hardcastle. The referee continues to insist it was only a two count, but under that bloody red gaze, the referee begins to fear for his life. But Hardcastle is saved as Janus hears his opponent moving, and turns to watch Alan Clark rise. With a lumbering, limping gait, the seven-footer hits the ropes and comes back, lowering his shoulder and looking to nail that elusive GORE. But the Wayward Son, despite the fact his head is ringing and his back is aching, hears his opponent coming for the third time. On pure instinct, he turns to meet the Hell Machine, scooping him up for a powerslam. And he ends up DROPPING him over one knee with a backbreaker, much to the crowd's delight!

 

"CHARTBREAKER!" hollers Comet. "Citizen Clark may have changed the flow of this match once more!"

 

"That was Janus' Crash and Burn!" Riley sputters. "He stole the big guy's own move!"

 

"It's poetic justice, Robert. Especially for when Citizen Clark defeats Citizen Janus now things are going his way!"

 

But despite Comet's words, Alan Clark doesn't spring to his feet to continue the assault. The Wayward Son is on his hands and knees, trying to focus through the pain and gather his wits. And several feet from him, slowly sitting up and holding his back with almost insulted look on his face, is the Hell Machine. Seeing his opponent already rising, Clark gamely pushes himself upright as a huge boot flies at his head... and catches the leg, falling down and twisting the Hell Machine over with a dragon screw! As Janus' back hits the mat, Alan struggles upright and keeps his grip on the giant's left leg, twisting around in preparation for the Wrath of Clark. Unfortunately, all he gets for that is a huge boot in the arse that sends him stumbling forward. As Janus rises once more, the Wayward Son throws himself at his opponent, ducking under a lariat attempt and swinging around for a rear waistlock.

 

But the chances of Alan Clark being able to hit a german suplex on the Hell Machine are minimal indeed, as the big man simply pries Clark's fingers from his waist before swinging around him. Janus clamps on a rear waistlock of his own and heaves back, but the immense amount of power in the throw allows the wily Alan to JUST manage to land on his feet. He charges forward, lifting a knee to slam into the turning Hell Machine's stomach. He wraps an arm around his opponent and tucks his head under one huge arm, and looks to Hit The Lights. With a primal scream, Clark arches up and back, hitting a picture perfect northern lights suplex on his three hundred and sixty pound opponent, complete with bridge! The crowd cheers for the incredible show of strength, and Hardcastle drops down for the pin.

 

ONE!

...

....

.....

TWO!!

...KICKOUT!

 

"I think that one must've caught Citizen Janus by surprise, Robert. Who'd have thought Citizen Clark could lift that much?"

 

"He won't be anymore, Comet." Riley smirks. "Look at him."

 

"I see what you mean." Comet doesn't look too excited at his partner's perception.

 

Wearily sprawling on the mat, Clark asks Hardcastle again if that was really just a two count. The referee nods, and the Wayward Son takes a deep breath of air, chest heaving. Janus sprawls mere centimetres away, staring up at the lights with his red eyes. The giant monster is feeling the pain throbbing in his left knee, and the smaller hero can feel weariness throbbing through him. He'd expended too much energy too quickly, he cursed himself, and that meant he was in trouble... as the shadow looming over him from behind proves. Janus winds up his right leg, and plants a positively EVIL looking soccer kick of his own straight into the back of Alan Clark's head! The crowd boos as Clark slumps forward, blood beginning to seep from the back of his head from the sheer brutality of that kick.

 

But the Hell Machine gives no quarter, stepping around the body of his sitting opponent with a smile a mile wide, as he hunches down. Using the ropes for extra bounce, Janus lowers his shoulder just as the Wayward Son looks up. The resulting GORE slams square into Clark's jaw, and Alan collapses to the mat like a sack of grain as Janus just mows him down. Boos rattle the rafters as the Hell Machine drops to his good knee on the opposite side of the ring and turns around to view his handiwork. The sickening smile on his face twitches slightly however, as the fans let themselves be heard.

 

"JANICE SUCKS!"

"JANICE SUCKS!"

"JANICE SUCKS!"

 

Pushing himself up to his feet, the monstrous Australian roars at the crowd to shut their faces. But this simply prompts them to taunt the giant Hell Machine even more, the chants raining down from all four corners. But whether or not the fans actually mean anything to Janus is inconsequential, as Alan Clark weakly stirs. The Wayward Son rolls onto his stomach, hearing the bellowing voice of the Hell Machine. His jaw feels like it's been pulverised, and he can tasted the copperish flavour of his own blood. But Alan does not rise - he rests on the mat - breathing as deeply as he dares, testing his battered body's limits. But all good tests must come to an end, as the ominous shadow of Janus falls over him again.

 

"Citizen Clark is in very dire straits, Robert! Janus has him completely at his mercy!"

 

"Comet... mercy?" Riley raises his eyebrow.

 

"Citizen Janus surely knows the meaning of mercy..."

 

"Sure. He just chooses not to exercise it." Riley smirks.

 

For several long moments, the Hell Machine watches Alan Clark breath on the canvas, blood dribbling from his mouth. Reaching down with a casual yet deadly grace, Janus locks a hand around the throat of the Wayward Son, dragging him bodily up to his feet. Clark's limbs dangle like a stringless puppet's, trembling slightly, and the seven foot monster pulls Alan off his feet and into the air in preparation for a chokeslam, staring at him eye to eye...

 

...the battered Alan Clark flashes a red-toothed smile...

 

...and sprays the BLOODMIST directly into Janus' face! The Hell Machine releases his grip on the throat of the Wayward Son, stumbling back and pawing at his face and eyes. As the big Australian tries to clear his eyes, Clark looks around at the fans as they cheer wildly for the semi-cheap tactic, and then springs into action. Temporarily reinvigorated by the electricity of the people, Alan leaps forward and hits a basement dropkick straight into Janus' left knee. This prompts the Hell Machine to stumble sideways and almost into a corner, hands instinctively going to his knee. Bloodstained and equally bloodshot red eyes look up as the giant begins to rise again, searching for the Wayward Son. But Alan is waiting, and shoots in from behind with a beautiful chop block to the back of the giant's left knee, barely rolling clear of the toppling behemoth as he crashes to the mat.

 

And Alan Clark is right on fire, bouncing against the ropes and coming back with a flipping senton, crashing back first across the giant's left knee. He follows through beautifully by rolling to his feet and springing back off the other ropes, landing a lionsault onto the knee as well! He kneels aft wards, clutching his stomach and wheezing in obvious weariness and pain. But the damage is done - he knows - because the Hell Machine is clutching at his battered knee. Willing his body back into action, Alan Clark struggles upright and grabs one of the monster's legs, twisting around it in a familiar motion. Janus kicks his free boot out but misses, and the Wayward Son grabs the other leg and falls back. And so he cinches in the hold known as the Cross Lightning, made famous by Ced Ordonez and used by Tom Flesher, or as Alan calls it...

 

"WRATH OF CLARK!" Comet marks out like a true wrestling fan. "With one last invigorating burst of strength, Citizen Clark has turned his match completely in his favour!"

 

"Nonsense!" Riley sputters. "That pathetic hold couldn't make anyone tap out!"

 

"Might I remind you..."

 

"...except if applied by my Superior One." Riley covers with a smirk at his partner.

 

In the middle of the ring and clear of any of the ropes, Janus roars in pain. He can feel the deadly submission torque at his battered left knee, the pain washing through every inch of his body. Through sheer force of will he keeps himself off the mat - not quite sitting - but not laying down either. The crowd continues its cheers as the Wayward Son sits in the submission hold, yelling at his opponent to give up. The fire burns through the Hell Machine's knee, and his eyes eerily focus in on his yelling and energised foe. As his leg screams in pain, Janus stares at the man known as Alan Clark. The crowd rings dimly in his ears.

 

"TAP OUT!" *clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

"TAP OUT!" *clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

"TAP OUT!" *clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

 

And for a moment, there nothing but the burning pain.

 

His hands twitch. And through it all, there is focus. His right arm rises off the mat, trembling.

 

Focus. It unfolds like the battering ram of Hell itself on Heaven's Gate.

 

*WWHHAAMM!!*

 

"By ZEUS!" Comet shrieks. "A Knuckle Bomb!"

 

"I told you he wasn't done!" Riley cackles.

 

The huge, right-handed punch has completely scrambled Alan Clark's wits, and he slumps back to the mat! Nearly knocked straight out by the hellacious blow, Clark can no longer maintain his submission finisher, legs going limp. Janus pulls himself free and very, very tentatively starts to pull himself upright. Any attempt to put pressure on his left knee makes it sing in pain, and he leans on the ropes. The fallen body of Alan Clark twitches, blood pooling from the side of his mouth. He could easily make a pinfall and end it here. But as he continues to stare, a smile twists his features and he looks out to the fans. They boo heartily... even as the big man holds his arm out and gives a thumbs down.

 

The crowd are curious as to what he signals for, and once more the Hell Machine hobbles forward to drag the Wayward Son to his feet. As he cinches in a front face lock, the crowd begins to hush, and the silence is almost tangible as he hoists Clark above his head in a vertical suplex. They watch Janus' left knee tremble and begin to give under carrying excess weight, but the big man twists Alan in his grasp. And he simply lets his leg give, sitting out.

 

And Alan Clark, the Wayward Son feels one thing as he sees the canvas rushing up to meet him.

 

Rage Unleashed.

 

*CRUNCH*

 

Clark balances almost perfectly on his head for several long moments, before crumpling to the mat. The boos begin to rain down thick and heavy on the Hell Machine, who simply continues to smile as he leans forward, pressing his hands against Alan's chest. Sexton Hardcastle drops down, checking the Wayward Son's shoulders out of custom before slapping his hand against the canvas.

 

ONE!

...

....

.....

TWO!!

...

....

.....

THREEEEEEEEEE!!!

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

And right on cue, Fear Factory's "Resurrection" blasts from the speakers.

 

"Revive all my fears!

Revive wasted tears!

Revive void within!

Revive once again!"

 

Boos continue raining down thickly upon the ring as the bell sounds out to signal the end of the match. Rolling out of the ring and hobbling on his bad knee, the Hell Machine picks up the Intercontinental Television title and slings it over his shoulder, grinning. His blood-misted features are a terror to behold, as he continues to grin even as he looks at the ring and begins heading backstage.

 

"Citizen Clark fought well and valiantly, Robert... but he just couldn't cope with the monster known as Janus."

 

"No one can, and no one will, Comet! He's going to go all the way to the top, and we'll see what that snivelling ‘roid abuser Danny Williams will try to stop him with!"

 

"Superhero Williams deserves respect, Robert."

 

"Sue me. After the emergency medical technicians scrape Alan Clark off the canvas, we have the match of a lifetime! My Superior One and SaturDaceNight Fever clash hardcore style, where Dace is going to get schooled!"

 

"I can't believe you're quoting the villainous Toxxic, Robert. Anyway, it's been great having you here on Storm, for Bobby Riley I'm Cyclone Comet... goodnight, citizens, and to all the ships at sea!"

 

The camera, as it pans around one last time, focuses in on the Hell Machine as he stands at the top of the ramp. He hoists the Intercontinental Television title above his head, a sickening smile a mile wide across his face. Tonight, he has defended the second highest singles prize in the history of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation.

 

To him... Danny Williams was running out of time.

 

Fade.

[TheBostonStrangler 0]

Not bad from what I've read of it. Lots of good promos, some good build towards the PPV, and overall good stuff. I'll be posting a card tomorrow, sometime probably before 2 PM. I'm in no condition to be trying to book a card right now, especially with a roster I don't know perfectly, so I'll leave it until the morning. Therefore, I want people to read the show and give some good feedback on it. Feedback makes the baby Jesus smile. No feedback makes him CRY. Do you want him to CRY? No, I didn't think so. So check out the show, and read through its many twists and turns.