SWF LOCKDOWN!!!

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

Comet: WELCOME ladies, gents, and everything in between to SWF LOCKDOWN!!! We've got a very intense show lined up for your folks tonight, but first... I do think that we're about to see a familiar face that we'd rather not...

 

Riley: David Blazenwing? Munich?

 

Comet: No, that's later on.

 

 

 

The arena lights dim, except for the entrance ramp spotlights which turn royal purple and focus on the skull over spade Technical Perfection logo on the SmarkTron. As the images change, first showing Chris Card shaking Suicide King’s hand, then showing Chris Card and Natasha doing what they do best (cheating, kicking and spraying people with mace)

 

“If dysfunction is a function then I must be some kind of…

GEEEEEEENIIIIIIIUUUUUSSSS”

 

Chris Card and Natasha step out into the entrance gate and pause briefly before walking down the ramp way towards the ring. Card parts the ropes to allow Natasha to step into the ring first before sliding in between the ropes himself and posing to rile up the crowd. Both are dressed impeccably, Card in designer jeans and a black designer shirt which hugs his muscular figure while his accomplice is in a MONUMENTALLY revealing short black dress. Card calls for a mic to be thrown up to him and places it to his lips, waiting for the first wave of boos to die down before addressing the crowd.

 

Card: Everyone’s been asking me, “Chris! Where have you been since that PPV appearance?” Well, shit, nobody ever thought that I might not have been in full wrestling shape after spending more time as a trainer than an active wrestler over the last few years. Of course all the idiots in the crowd do is want, want, want. And you might boo that but you want to see me lose. You pay your money down to see the greats of the SWF, the truly dominant forces, the Tom Fleshers, the Suicide Kings (name check for you, boss), the Chris Cards go out there and lose. And of course you’re always disappointed in the long run. But today this isn’t about me and this certainly isn’t about the braying mob that I see littering up the seats of this arena. This is about the guys in the back.

 

Card takes time to pause and let the statement sink in, as well as taking a little extra time to soak up the boos of the capacity Minnesotan crowd.

 

Comet: What on Earth is he talking about Riley?

 

Riley: I have no idea.

 

Card: See I have this HUGE wedge of cold hard cash weighing me down. Somebody took a big gamble on me finding the next world champion and so far my efforts have come up a little short and I’ll readily admit it’s my fault. Every gambler loses the odd hand but every great gambler finishes ahead. And the most successful gambler of all is the man who’s already paid off the dealer.

 

Card smiles and takes out a wedge of cash from the back pocket of his designer jeans and fans himself with the money.

 

Card: To all the boys in the back, be they great or promising, be they those with the courage of their conviction to take short cuts when they have to, or those who just need to learn the rules of the ring from a master, be they hoodies, metalheads, superheroes or just regular guys I make the following offer. Stand with me. Stand with me and get the full backing of my expertise and King’s money. Stand with me and get the full support of my personal assistant and her Aerosol Equalizer. Stand with me and I’ll make you a champion. Stand against me…

 

Card pauses before dropping back and firing off the Calling Card into thin air.

 

Card: …and I’ll put my foot through your ribcage. There are no other options. Deal with it.

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

Comet: And just look at what's in store for us tonight!

 

 

 

MAIN EVENT

TAG TEAM MATCH

Janus/Landon Maddix vs. Danny Williams/Alan Clark

 

BEST-OF-FIVE SERIES

UWF-i POINTS SYSTEM MATCH

Dace Night (2) vs. Tom Flesher (1)

 

ENDLESS FOUR CORNERS MATCH

The Masked Man vs. Ryan Dustin vs. Tryst vs. Jimmy Liston

 

RETURN SINGLES MATCH

Munich vs. David Blazenwing

 

TRIPLE THREAT FOR THE #1 CONTENDERSHIP TO THE ICTV TITLE

Ace Lezaire vs. Mike Van Siclen vs. Johnny Dangerous

 

SINGLES MATCH

John Duran vs. Todd Cortez

 

HARDCORE MATCH

Toxxic vs. Insane Luchadore

 

SINGLES MATCH

Jacob Helmsley vs. Austin Sly

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

Comet: Sly vs. Helmsley, go!

 

Sly: Imma eat you Jake!

 

Jacob: No Imma eat YOU Sly!

 

Scorpion: Get over here! Uppercut!

 

Comet: Sly is dead!

 

Scorpion: Get over here! Uppercut!

 

Comet: Jacob is dead!

 

Bobby: Bummer.

 

Mysterious Voice: FATALITY.

 

Scorpion: No, I will use a friendship instead! *juggles*

 

 

 

 

...Don't we all just love double no-shows. And Mortal Combat.

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

“Citizens we are back, LIVE from the Target Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota!” Cyclone Comet yells as the live feed returns and generic rock music blasts out over the arena PA. “This is Lockdown, where matches are won and lost, where lives are shaped, where destinies are forged-”

 

“-and where taste and decency give up and go home,” Bobby Riley finishes morosely. “For pity’s sake, give it a rest will you? And what in the name of Creative Control are those things coming out of your head!?”

 

“These?” Comet asks, taking off the headband with horns on that was decorating his mask. “Well Robert, since we’re in Minnesota I thought I’d support the Vikings...”

 

“Comet, your need for cheap heat died when my appetite for getting bruised by that bunch of psychos in the ring did,” Riley tells him. “Namely; a long time ago. You’re a commentator now, and not even a good one. Now send it down to Funyon before I bring up the colour of your spandex.”

 

“...”

 

The cameras cut to the ring where Funyon stands waiting, microphone in hand. Over his left shoulder can be seen a sign that reads ‘Andrew and Jessica sitting in a tree, F-A-R-K-I-N-G’ - but this dig at the Gothic Avian is quickly forgotten as the lights go out.

 

“Will someone please give the production crew that damn pay rise they keep on about?” Bobby Riley is heard to mutter... but then the riff of ‘Schism’ by Tool starts up. As the drums kick in light blue and dark red lights start to flash everywhere around the Target Center and the red-and-black pyro starts up, covering the entrance way.

 

“How do you get black sparks anyway?” Riley hisses to Comet.

 

“Sorry Robert, privileged information.”

 

‘I know the pieces fit

Cos I watch them fall away...’

 

The pyro starts to die down and with a sudden burst of energy, incongruous to the beat of the music, the Insane Luchador leaps through the fading curtain with a smirk on his face. Rickmen starts to walk to the ring as Funyon begins speaking.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and will be contested under HARDCORE RULES~!” As ever, Funyon waits for the pop to die down before continuing. “Introducing first, from Easton, Pennsylvania; weighing in at 201lbs; THE IN-SAAAAAAAANE...LUCHADOOOOOOORRRRRR!!”

 

The lights start to flash with a greater speed and intensity as Rickmen approaches the ring until the management are really glad for that “strobe light” warning they put out preceding the programme. Finally the Insane Luchador climbs a turnbuckle and stares out at the crowd with his wild eyes, making a cross with his arms.

 

“Citizen Rickmen has become stranger and stranger over the last few weeks, even for him,” Comet notes as Luchador drops down from the turnbuckle and faces out towards the entrance way. “And last show there was that whole business with Jessica in the tag match...”

 

“...which ended with Rickmen’s head getting sandwiched between Crow’s foot and Dustin’s knee,” Riley finishes with satisfaction. “It’s a shame that those two goofs had to win, but at least it’ll make the job easier for Toxxic tonight!”

 

As Riley finishes speaking the Smarktron blacks out and the crunching guitars of Lostprophets’ ‘We Still Kill The Old Way’ begin. The words ‘Prepare To Be Proved Wrong’ flash up before 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 signals the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger! As has been the case in recent shows, however, Toxxic wastes no time in posing or playing up to the fans - instead the Straight-Edge Sensation simply makes his way quickly to the ring, stripping off his ‘Hardcore Punk’ T-Shirt as he goes and flinging it backwards over his shoulder.

 

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

 

Toxxic slides under the bottom rope and begins to stand, grey eyes locked on his opponent - but Rickmen charges in and starts firing off right hands before the Brit has even got to his feet!

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

“Citizen Rickmen wasting no time here!” Comet calls as the Pennsylvania native rains blows down on the straight-edger. “He and Toxxic have met twice before, once in a submissions-only match for the ICTV Title and once in the infamous Pittsburgh All-Show Brawl for the Hardcore Gamer’s Title-”

 

“-and Toxxic beat this psycho’s ass both times!” Riley finishes. “Face it Comet, we’re talking two different leagues here!”

 

Referee Matthew Kivell looks like he wants to admonish Rickmen for the incessant right hands but is powerless to do anything as the Insane Luchador continues to pound away. Taking a grip on his opponent’s spiky black hair Rickmen hauls the dazed Toxxic to his feet, then Irish whips him across the ring into the far ropes. Toxxic hits the cables and rebounds with added momentum-

 

*WHAM!*

 

-straight into a clothesline from the Insane Luchador! Rickmen puts so much into the swing that he ends up facedown on the canvas himself, but the Insane One quickly pushes himself back to his feet with a laugh as Toxxic checks his teeth. Turning his back on his opponent Rickmen slides casually under the bottom rope and begins hunting underneath the ring. Finally his hand closes on what he seeks and he withdraws it - then waves the object of his search in the air to a pop from the Minneapolis crowd!

 

“Excalibur!” Comet cries as the dual lightubes filled with thumbtacks are revealed to the cameras. “The Insane Luchador is breaking out the big guns early!”

 

“That’s right Rickmen,” Riley comments, “try and cover for your lack of talent with blood and broken glass...”

 

The roar of the crowd makes Toxxic look over at his opponent from his position on the canvas. Two black-ringed eyes widen as he sees Rickmen’s weapon (oo-er) and the Straight-Edge Sensation wastes no time in rolling out of the ring himself to take cover on the opposite side.

 

“Coward!” Comet cries - but Toxxic is hunting under the ring apron for something himself. The crowd noise rises as Rickmen begins to circle the ring towards his opponent, manic grin on his face, and as he rounds the last ringpost the Insane One grabs his weapon in two hands and prepares to charge.

 

“Hey, bitch!” Rickmen shouts, the words clearly picked up by the ring mics. Toxxic looks up, sees the Luchador clutching Excalibur... and pulls a ten-foot steel ladder out from under the ring.

 

“Ooohhhhhhhhh yeeeeeaaaaaaahhhhhh!” Riley shouts, causing Comet to look round in case a bitter, rapper-wannabe ex-wrestler has suddenly supplanted his partner. “That’s evened up the odds a bit!”

 

Rickmen is taken aback for a second - but only a second. Shrugging, the Insane One raises his weapon and charges anyway...

 

*SSSSPPLLLLAAAAAAASSSSSSHHHHH*

 

...but with a speed that would have made Doc Holliday smile, Toxxic whips a mini SuperSoaker out of one of his voluminous side pockets and fires with deadly accuracy into Rickmen’s eyes! The Insane Luchador’s charge fails as he splutters and coughs, and with his opponent temporarily disabled Toxxic drops the water pistol, grabs the ladder in both hands and slams it forward into Rickmen’s ribcage!

 

*WHAM!!*

 

The breath shoots out of the Insane One’s lungs as he doubles over, but Toxxic isn’t finished yet. Leaning back, the Straight-Edge Sensation simply heaves the ladder up and delivers a THUNDEROUS uppercut to Rickmen’s jaw!

 

*THUNK!!*

 

The Insane Luchador sprawls backwards as Excalibur falls from his hands and breaks on the arena mats, its payload of thumbtacks scattering harmlessly. Rickmen himself comes to rest backfirst against one of the security rails. The SWF fans at ringside cheer and hoot in their drunken way and a couple of the more foolhardy reach down to pat Rickmen on the shoulder despite the risk of rabies - but quickly withdraw their hands as Toxxic charges with the ladder, apparently seeking to smash the Insane Luchador’s head in!

 

*CLANG!!*

 

Showing an unusual amount of self-preservation Rickmen rolls aside at the last minute, leaving Toxxic struggling to hold onto his unwieldy weapon as his hands are jarred from the impact. The Insane One scrambles back into the ring in order to put some distance between himself and his pursuer, then immediately hits the far ropes. Toxxic turns to follow, slides the ladder under the bottom rope, looks up and sees Rickmen hurtling back towards him - and ducks, knowing that the baseball slide will knock the ladder into his chest otherwise.

 

Trying to predict the actions of the Insane Luchador is not a game with good odds, however. There is no impact and no ladder comes flying overhead, so Toxxic looks up...

 

*SPLAT!!*

 

...and gets flattened by a plancha!

 

“LET’S GO RICKMEN!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

“LET’S GO RICKMEN!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

The Insane Luchador’s actions may not have been the best in the eyes of the SWF fans over the last few weeks, but when it comes to a choice between him and the Straight-Edge Sensation there can only be one outcome. With Minneapolis roaring him on Rickmen picks the dazed Toxxic up off the floor, grabs the back of his trousers and slams the Brit’s head straight into the steel ringpost!

 

*THUNK!!*

 

Toxxic staggers away towards the announcers’ table, and with his Excalibur now on the opposite side of the ring Rickmen has to improvise. He grabs Funyon and throws him aside, then folds up the chair the ring announcer had been sitting on and brings it down HARD on Toxxic’s back!

 

*CRACK!!*

 

“Don’t take that from him, Funyon!” Riley shouts as Toxxic stumbles forward and drops to one knee. “Take the little bastard out!”

 

Funyon seems unwilling to get involved however, and with no help from outside quarters immediately available Toxxic appears to be in considerable trouble. Rickmen takes a couple of steps backwards, makes a practice swing and then runs forward, looking for a blow at head-height to remove Toxxic’s troublesome bonce once and for all. But the Straight-Edge Sensation is reaching into one of his side pockets again, which is NEVER a good sign in a hardcore match...

 

*MUTHAFUCKING “CHING”, BITCH!!*

 

“OOOOOOHHHhhhhhhhh....”

 

The entire male portion of the crowd gasps in unison as Rickmen is stopped in his tracks just before the chair makes contact with Toxxic’s head. It still bounces off the straight-edger’s spikes, but for obvious reasons Rickmen’s concentration became slightly, erm, diverted moments before impact, and it’s really no more than a tap. Meanwhile the Insane Luchador slowly starts to crumple and Toxxic straightens up, rubbing his head from where the ring post hit him... and sliding something small and shiny back into his pocket.

 

“Nutshot with brass knucks!” Riley laughs. “Crow; you can relax, I don’t think Jessica’s going to be ‘playing away’ here for a few days!”

 

“Robert, that was absolutely despicable!” Comet splutters. “It was foul, it was criminal, it was-”

 

“-incredibly painful and downright legal,” Riley jovially finishes for him. “Grievous Bodily Harm is always better when it’s sanctioned by your employer, don’t you find?”

 

Even Andrew Rickmen’s vaunted ability to ignore and even enjoy pain has been overloaded with that tactic from the Straight-Edge Sensation, and the Insane Luchador stands in his own private world of agony... a world that Toxxic is eager to break into. Grabbing the steel chair from Rickmen’s limp fingers the straight-edger places it on the mats, then-

 

*CRUNCH-WHAM!!*

 

“Sobering Thought onto the chair!” Riley yells as Rickmen’s head bounces off the arena floor following the facebuster/DDT combo. Face still as emotionless as the moment he appeared at the top of the ramp, Toxxic hooks his opponent’s leg.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-Kickout!

 

 

“LET’S GO RICK-MEN!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

“LET’S GO RICK-MEN!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

“Robert, Citizen Rickmen is clearly hurt here,” Comet remarks as the Insane One gets his shoulder up - but not by much. “You might expect him to have been able to counter that DDT since he uses a more effective version of it himself to finish his opponents off, but Toxxic got away with that act Scott-free!”

 

“You can’t counter anything if you can’t move voluntarily,” Riley informs his commentary partner. “Remember Comet; testicles are your friends-”

 

“-not food?” Comet asks, referencing Finding Nemo in a desperate attempt to make viewers forget Riley’s comment but only succeeding in traumatising the audience still further.

 

Toxxic simply looks at Matthew Kivell as the referee announces the two-count, but doesn’t seem inclined to argue. Instead he picks the Insane Luchador up bodily and rolls him into the ring, sliding the chair in after him and then grovelling under the ring apron again before emerging with a second one. This follows Rickmen into the ring as well before Toxxic slides under the bottom rope and takes hold of his opponent again.

 

“LET’S GO RICK-MEN!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

“LET’S GO RICK-MEN!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

“I think that the Insane Luchador may need a little more than the support of the SWF faithful here tonight,” Comet declares as Toxxic backs Rickmen into a corner before connecting with a European Uppercut that snaps his opponent’s head back. “So far Toxxic has managed to outwit Citizen Rickmen thanks to some very low tactics, but in this environment it is very easy to turn the slightest advantage into a match-winning situation!”

 

Taking hold of Rickmen’s wrist Toxxic goes to whip the Insane One across the ring, but the movement is half-hearted. Something in Rickmen’s frazzled head kicks in and he reverses the momentum - but this was what the Straight-Edge Sensation was after all along, and as he reaches the far corner he vaults up and backwards, twisting in the air as he goes...

 

*WHAM!!*

 

...and taking Rickmen down with the Role Reversal! Toxxic hooks the leg again, and Kivell drops to the mat to make the count...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-Kickout!

 

And now the chants have changed.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

Toxxic’s head snaps up.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

“Why are they doing this, Comet?” Riley asks. “Surely they know what’s going to happen?”

 

“Robert, I whole-heartedly support the policy of reminding Citizen Toxxic of the name of the man who will leave him lying at 13th Hour!” Comet responds forcefully. “He needs to learn some respect for the veterans of this business!”

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

Toxxic’s eyes narrow, and he grabs one of the two chairs that are lying on the ring floor. Without waiting for the Insane Luchador to stand under his own power he hauls him upright-

 

*CRACK!!*

 

-and fires off a skull-splitting shot that sends Rickmen sprawling backwards to land against the ropes. The Straight-Edge Sensation grabs Rickmen’s wrists and twists them, wrenching the Insane One’s arms until Rickmen is tied up in the ring cables with nowhere to go!

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

Backing away, Toxxic sets up the chair he is carrying in the middle of the ring, then picks up the other one, still folded up. He calmly walks to the far side of the ring from his opponent, and takes a couple of deep breaths.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

“Robert, what’s going on here?” Comet asks nervously.

 

“Comet you are about to see the inaugural flight of British Airways,” Riley answers gleefully, “and this-”

 

Toxxic springs forward, sprinting across the ring and vaults off the chair seat, bringing his feet up...

 

*SMASH!!*

 

...and dropkicks the other chair straight into Rickmen’s mouth!

 

“-is the In-Flight Meal!” Riley finishes with satisfaction.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

The chants are still ringing out around the arena, not connected in any way with the match except for the severe annoyance they are generating in one of the participants. Toxxic picks himself up from where he landed... and over the repeated name he hears a strange noise.

 

Laughter.

 

Blood is dripping down from Andrew Rickmen’s face to the canvas, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering him much. Still trapped in the ropes he raises his head and grins at Toxxic, his teeth stained red. With a muttered swearword Toxxic picks the chair up again, raises it...

 

...and Rickmen spits blood straight into the Straight-Edge Sensation’s face.

 

“UUUURRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!”

 

“Bloodmist!” Comet shouts, sounding sickened himself as Toxxic staggers backwards, swiping at his own eyes. “Citizen Rickmen can turn even his own injuries to his advantage!”

 

“No!” Riley screams back. “He’s a demented, psychotic nutball with no concept of a hygienic working environment! He should be put down, Comet!”

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

The Insane Luchador is laughing so hard at the sight of Toxxic trying to wipe his face that he neglects to free himself from the ropes at first, but when the Brit finally stops even Rickmen’s twisted mental processes realise he’s not exactly in a strong position. A quick examination of his situation reveals that the impact of the In-Flight Meal actually knocked his left arm nearly clear of the ropes holding it in place, and with a quick twist he frees it. Toxxic raises his chair again, but the Insane One is already pulling his right arm free and he turns round-

 

*CRACK!!*

 

-and superkicks the chair back into Toxxic’s face!

 

“RRRAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH!!”

 

“LET’S GO RICK-MEN!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

“LET’S GO RICK-MEN!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

The Straight-Edge Sensation drops as if shot and Rickmen shakes his head to clear it, sending little specks of blood flying everywhere to the disgust of Matthew Kivell. Then suddenly-

 

“Yaaaaarrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhh!”

 

-the Insane Luchador launches himself onto the prone form of his opponent, raining down right hands like they were going out of fashion. Toxxic tries to cover up under the onslaught but although it reduces the impact slightly he is unable to shift the Pennsylvanian from off his chest. With few options left Toxxic’s right hand snakes down to his side pocket...

 

“Look out Rickmen!” Comet shouts - but not even a superhero’s lungs can be heard over the noise of the Minneapolis crowd.

 

*WHAM!!*

 

Andrew Rickmen’s eyes suddenly glaze over and he slumps sideways as the brass knuckles crash into his left temple. Without even removing the weapon from his hand Toxxic rolls on top of his opponent and hooks the leg...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE-Kickout!

 

“What!?” Riley yelps as Kivell’s hand stops a mere fraction of an inch from the canvas. “Kivell, have you lost your mind, or just your ability to count? Or are you the reason the last election was so screwed up!?”

 

“Now now Robert, we can’t go addressing politics on this show,” Comet reminds his broadcast partner tersely.

 

“Go choke on a pretzel, Lycra Boy.”

 

With the brass knuckles having failed him Toxxic looks around for inspiration - and finds it in the shape of his favourite weapon, still lying on the other side of the ring from where he slid it in earlier. Walking over he picks the ladder up and rests one end on the chair that is still set up in the middle of the ring, then grabs the other chair and sets it up roughly ten feet away on a diagonal. A swift bit of manoeuvring and the ladder is set up roughly two feet off the ground, making a sort of narrow platform.

 

“Oh dear,” Comet says quietly as Toxxic goes to pick Rickmen up. “We’ve seen this from Toxxic before, and it rarely works out well for his opponent.”

 

“Which is kind of the point,” Riley reminds him.

 

The Straight-Edge Sensation fires off a European Uppercut and Rickmen drops backwards onto the ladder. Toxxic steps through the ringropes onto the apron and faces into the ring... but the chant is starting up again.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

The moment of irritation that Toxxic betrays doesn’t seem to be that important. It passes, and he leaps up to the top rope...

 

“MONDO!” shouts the Minneapolis Heel Section.

 

...to the top buckle...

 

“AKIMBO!”

 

...MOONSAULT!

 

“A-GO-GOOO-”

 

But in this game, a moment can be very important.

 

*CRASH!!*

 

“-OOOooohh...”

 

“RICKMEN MOVED!” Comet yells in delight as the Insane Luchador manages to squirm out of the way. “The Mondo Akimbo A-Go-Go Moonsault missed! Now can he capitalise?”

 

Andrew Rickmen crawls over to where Toxxic lies, writhing in pain and clutching his ribs. Back in Pittsburgh, the Insane Luchador went for a Leap of Faith off the top of the Smarktron that Toxxic dodged at the last moment, leading to the final and deciding pinfall. There would seem to be a suitable kind of symmetry at work if Toxxic’s mistake was to lead to his own downfall in Minneapolis.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEE-Kickout!

 

Of course, symmetry is a bastard and is rarely there when you want it.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

“So close!” Comet mourns as Rickmen rolls away from Toxxic. “Although Citizen Rickmen is a former ICTV champion it would be considered something of an upset if he were to beat Toxxic here - but that defeat very nearly transpired merely second ago!”

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

Insane Luchador pushes himself back to his feet, taking hold of his opponent by the neck and hauling Toxxic up with him. He hooks the Straight-Edge Sensation for a suplex and lifts him - but when the Brit’s body reaches vertical Rickmen simply drops down, spiking Toxxic onto his head!

 

“Brainbuster!” Comet gasps. “That could do it! Cover him Andrew, cover him!”

 

But Rickmen has other things in mind. Wiping blood from his lip with the back of his sleeve the Insane One scoots out of the ring and starts fishing under the ring again, then emerges with a table. The Minneapolis fans approve of this development, and a new chant starts up.

 

“GORE-CORE!”

 

“GORE-CORE!”

 

“GORE-CORE!”

 

Rickmen grins, showing off his red teeth to the world, and slides the table underneath the bottom rope before following it. With quick, practised moves the Insane Luchador sets it up - then suddenly a hand shoots up between his legs, bringing him over backwards in a schoolboy pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-Kickout!

 

Rickmen pops up off the mat, refusing to let the hardcore action he is anticipating be stopped by a simple three-count. Toxxic tries to scramble up as well, but Rickmen simply drives his knee into the Straight-Edger’s face and knocks him back over. Without anything else to stop him the Insane One picks Toxxic up and fires off a right hand, knocking the Brit sprawling against the table. Rickmen swiftly hoists Toxxic’s legs up and places him fully on the wooden surface, then grabs the ladder and begins to set it up.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

The fans are back to their old chant again.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

Rickmen has the ladder set up, and with one last right hand to Toxxic’s temple he begins to climb, facing away from his victim. The last time he was looking for the Leap Of Faith Toxxic moved because he took too long, but he’s nearly at the top of the ladder already.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

Last time, however, Toxxic didn’t have Jet shouting at him from ringside to move, warning him of the impending danger. And although every nerve in is body is screaming at him to just catch his breath for a few seconds longer, Toxxic manages to swing himself off the table. He half-collides with the ladder, looks up... and sees the receding shape of Andrew Rickmen.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

Theoretically, Toxxic could just get the hell out of the ring and wait for Rickmen to get bored with perching on the ladder. Or he could maybe tip the ladder over, sending the Insane Luchador to an uncertain fate on canvas, ringrope or arena floor. Perhaps the confused straight-edger still has images of his loss to Janus in a Ladder Match running through his brain and is instinctively set to chase anyone disappearing up a ladder. Whatever the motivation, Toxxic starts climbing after his opponent.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

Rickmen feels the ladder swaying, of course, and knows he’s no longer alone. So he kicks out downwards, but Toxxic manages to avoid it and reaches up to club Rickmen in the small of the back. The Insane One’s breath shoots from his lungs as he bends double over the top rung, but he knows that he can’t just perch there with an opponent behind him. So Rickmen manages to turn around so he can at least see where he’s trying to kick.

 

This is, under the circumstances, not a good move.

 

*CHING!!*

 

For the second time in the match Andrew Rickmen’s happy-happy-joy-joy area is traumatised, this time from a Toxxic headbutt. The Insane Luchador hunches over as white lights seem to go off in odd portions of his brain... and seeing an opportunity, Toxxic turns around on the ladder as well.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

Swiftly, he places one of Rickmen’s limp legs over each shoulder.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

Rickmen is already bending over, so Toxxic reaches two black-nailed hands up and locks them around the back of the Insane Luchador’s neck, trapping all of his opponent’s body inside the cradle of his arms.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

And on the commentary table, Cyclone Comet suddenly realises what is about to go down.

 

“Oh no...”

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

Toxxic stands up, his rung of the ladder taking their combined weight for a moment... then he jumps forwards, sitting out as he does so.

 

And they fall down...

 

...down...

 

...Down...

 

...DOWN...

 

*BAM!!*

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“HO-LY-SHIT!”

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“DANGERLUST OFF THE LADDER AND THROUGH THE TABLE!” Comet screams as Kivell stands in shock for a moment before diving down to count. “Has Toxxic lost his mind!?”

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner,” Funyon booms as the Lostprophets ring out over the Target Center for the second time, “TOXX-IIIC!!”

 

Toxxic finds his right arm being raised somewhat reluctantly by Matthew Kivell and looks down. In front of him lies the motionless form of Andrew Rickmen. The Straight-Edge Sensation frowns, as if slightly unsure of what the Insane Luchador is doing there, then rolls out of the ring and rejoins Jet.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

The chants follow the pair up the ramp, but Toxxic pays no attention. In eleven days’ time, he is sure, the chants will become academic.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

“Citizens, we have just seen a shameless disregard for human life,” Comet says soberly as Matthew Kivell calls for help from the back. “The Insane Luchador is a man who has put his heart and soul into this federation, and he has been rewarded here with the possible end of his career.”

 

“Comet, will you stop whining?” Riley asks. “Rickmen is a garbage wrestler, it’s not like he has any noticeable talent! Besides, this is what he does and he enjoys getting hurt - he wouldn’t wrestle these matches if he didn’t like them!”

 

“Robert, I don’t normally say this but I would positively enjoy seeing Toxxic severely hurt at the hands of Nathaniel Kibagami at 13th Hour!” Comet responds hotly. “He is a liability in the ring, and all emissaries of JUSTICE~ should devote their efforts to stopping his campaign of terror.”

 

“Whatever. Grind your stress balls a little, and we’ll be back after THESE!”

 

 

COMMERCIAL BREAK!

 

“Hi, my name is Crow, the Antichr- sorry, sorry, the Gothic Avian of the SWF, and I’m here to endorse- whaddya mean ‘Gothic Avian’ is a crap name? Who the fark asked you? Come over here ya damn cocksucker, and I’ll break this farking lightube over your bloody head-”

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

Backstage in the Target Centre, SWF rookie Edward James is strolling around through the corridors...no match scheduled for the night, so he's got a lot of free time on his hands. Presumably he's developed a thirst by doing nothing all night, as he's heading in the direction of the canteen. Unfortunately for him, before he can get there, a certain USJL Triple Crown Champion steps in his way...his smile looking more like a sneer, as he stares at the 'Wayward Sons' logo on James' shirt.

 

"Landon Maddix..." sighs James.

 

"USJL Triple Crown Champion Landon Maddix. Don't you forget it biznitch. I'm glad I bumped into you..."

 

"Come to think of it, so am I."

 

Maddix looks confused and shrugs his shoulders, as James begins to route around in his jeans pocket for something...eventually pulling out something and handing it to Maddix.

 

"Alan asked me to give you this."

 

Looking down into his hand Maddix frowns, as in it sits a pocket-watch. The front of which has obviously been hampered with and the hinge on the side has been broken...presumably so Alan could open up the watch, and remove the hour hand...leaving just the minute hand ticking around and around. Trying to hide his anger, Maddix sneers out a smile again and holds his hand out.

 

"Wha...what the hell is this?"

 

"Well, it's a watch. But Alan thought it'd be more useful to you...with just the minute hand. That way, you can get used to what sixty minutes feels like."

 

"Gr...great...that's just great."

 

James begins to walk off, but a hand on his arm stops him.

 

"While you're here...you can send Clark a message from me."

 

James nods sheepishly as Landon smiles to himself and begins to turn away from the Wayward Son...

 

 

*SMAAAAACK!*

 

...before FIRING back with Sweet Disciple Music, the sound of his boot connecting with James' chin echoing through the corridors as the bigman slumps to the floor, knocked out cold. Once he hits the ground, Maddix bends down to the side of him and places the watch on James' chest, before mockingly slapping him in the face.

 

"Tell Clark...that it won't take sixty minutes to knock his ass out!"

 

Another slap is fired across Eddy's face, before Maddix stands up, sniggers to himself and strolls off, his voice traling behind him as he goes...

 

 

"...dumb rookie."

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

"NO...NO...NOTORIOUS!"

 

As soon as that familiar intro is spoken, Spineshank's "Synthetic" is cued up, and through the curtain comes "The Notorious One", John Duran, primed for action tonight on SWF Lockdown.

 

"Welcome back to Lockdown, everyone. Right now we're gearing up for what should be a hard-hitting contest pitting former SWF World Champion John Duran against the SWF's streetsmart rookie, one half of the SWF Tag Team Champions, Todd Cortez."

 

"What this match is, Comet, is a proving ground. John Duran is out to prove he's on his way back up that ladder. Todd Cortez is out to prove that he's no slouch. In fact, he'd be the Cruiserweight Champion right now had he not had to deal with that stupid No Gravity stipulation. He was never pinned in that match, and therefore I think he was robbed."

 

"That's your opinion and you're entitled, Robert, but right now we've got to go to Funyon for the introductions!"

 

Duran walks around the ringside area, clad in his trademark "Sin To Win" shirt. One overzealous fan makes the mistake of tugging on it as Duran passes by, and he just turns around, burning a hole through the fan with an intense stare. Duran moves towards the fan, who cowers back into his seat. The Notorious One then turns to face the ring, hopping up on the apron and stepping through the ropes, while Funyon announces him to the crowd.

 

FUNYON

"Ladies and gentlemen, this next matchup is scheduled for one fall! Making his way into the ring at this time, hailing from Champaign, Illinois, and weighing in at two hundred, sixty eight pounds, he is THE NOTORRRRIOUSSSSS...JOHN DURRRRRANNNNNNN!"

 

The capacity crowd that has come to the Target Center tonight showers Duran with boos as he raises his arms up, the reaction not affecting his short tempered demeanor. As his theme fades out and is replaced with that of his opponent, the jeers that welcomed Duran turn to a more positive reaction when the Spanish horn intro to "Tres Delinquentes" starts up.

 

"Listen to this crowd showing respect to the Urban Legend!"

 

Todd Cortez, with the SWF World Tag Team Title fastened around his waist, comes out onto the stage and recieves quite a reaction from the Minnesota residents that have filled the arena. Cortez works the crowd, holding up his arms in the straight edge insignia before walking down to the ring. Cortez stops just short of ringside, looking into the ring at Duran, who is snarling in his direction, impatiently awaiting his entry into the ring.

 

FUNYON

"His opponent, he hails from The Streets, and is a two-time and current SWF World Tag Team Champion. Weighing in at two hundred, twenty six pounds, this is the Urban Legend, TODDDD CORRRRTEZZZZZZ!"

 

As soon as his name is bellowed over the microphone, Cortez holds his cross in his hand and kisses it, pointing upward in his traditional sign of respect for his deceased brother. Cortez slides into the ring and comes up to Duran, looking up into the eyes of his taller opponent. Seeing that this could get ugly very quickly, referee Brian Hebner steps in to seperate the two, until the official bell is rung.

 

Both men back up, and Cortez hands his tag belt over to Funyon, who takes it down to ringside with him. Hebner motions for the bell, and it's go time for Duran and Cortez.

 

They circle the ring to start, with each man staring the other down. Cortez shows no fear despite the reputation of John Duran, while Duran has no interest in going easy on the newcomer. They lock up in the center of the ring, and Cortez, knowing that he can't win a test of strength against Duran, uses a quick go-behind into a rear waistlock. Just as quickly, Duran counters by going around Cortez and holding him with his own waistlock, and then simply shoves the youngster forward away from him.

 

"Duran's playing with him!"

 

Cortez turns around, and Duran waves him on, daring him to try for another lockup. Cortez looks at Duran, bracing himself before going forward and again locking up with the former World Champion. Cortez attempts to jockey for position, but is ultimately shoved to the canvas by Duran.

 

"Once again, John Duran using that strength advantage to..."

 

"His advantage?"

 

"Well, yeah."

 

"Thought so."

 

Cortez gets up, brushing himself off while Duran just sneers and watches him recover. Cortez again takes a moment to gather his thoughts, and then slowly moves towards Duran, arms up and ready to lock horns with The Notorious One yet again. Duran moves in, positioning himself and raising his arms to go lock up, but Cortez fires off a kick to the exposed ribs of Duran!

 

"He suckered him in!"

 

Cortez quickly fires off several right hands, trying to keep Duran stunned, but the effects are short-lived, as Duran drives his right knee into Todd's ribs, cutting off his flurry. Duran holds him by the head, driving another knee up into his ribs, and then reaching down and lifting Todd up, dropping him to the canvas with a scoop slam. Duran backs up into the ropes, coming off them as Todd is getting to his feet. John rears his arm back and throws it forward, attempting to take Todd's head off with a lariat, but the quicker Cortez somersaults under Duran, coming up and running the ropes, then launching himself at Duran with a flying cross body! Cortez gets him down, but cannot hold him for a pin, as Duran quickly shoves him off before Hebner can even make a one count. Cortez waits on Duran, getting to his feet beforehand, and then cinching in a rear waistlock again, only to have Duran again counter. Duran then segues into a headlock, but Cortez shoves him off into the ropes, only to be floored when Duran rebounds with a powerful shoulderblock! Duran hits the ropes again, and this time Cortez rolls onto his stomach, so Duran must jump over him. The Notorious One comes off the far side, but stops short of Cortez just as he's trying for a leapfrog, and catches him, bringing him down across his knee with an inverted atomic drop! Cortez is hurt, and Duran follows up by bringing his head down into his knee, driving it into his temple! Cortez staggers, but winds up walking into the arms of Duran, who lifts the rookie up and presses him above his head before simply letting go, allowing Cortez to belly flop down to the canvas!

 

"John Duran is treating Todd Cortez like a ragdoll here in these early moments!"

 

Duran looks out to the crowd, who respond to his stares with catcalls and jeers. Duran then turns to look down at Cortez, who is slowly pushing himself up off the canvas. Duran reaches down, tugging on the back of Cortez's wifebeater to aid in his getting to his feet, and then takes him by the back of the head and runs him into the corner, where he smashes him facefirst into the top turnbuckle! Duran turns Cortez around, and with him pinned against the ropes, starts ramming his shoulder into the ribs of Cortez! Todd winces upon every hit, and after several times Duran stops to stand up and brush his hair back. He backs up a few steps, but then runs forward, this time driving his knee into the ribs of Todd Cortez and knocking what little air he had left right out of him! Cortez nearly falls over, but Duran pushes him back up into the corner, then takes him by the arm and sends him across the ring, crashing into the opposite corner. Cortez hits hard, and Duran charges in, but this time Cortez is able to sidestep the onslaught in the nick of time! Duran crashes into the turnbuckles, slamming his chest into the top one! He staggers back, but Cortez quickly shoves him back in, again slamming his chest into the turnbuckle, then follows it up with a Russian leg sweep! Cortez rolls backwards after he completes the move, getting back up to his feet and then quickly coming down onto Duran's throat with a standing legdrop!

 

"Looks like the tide is starting to shift!"

 

"Agreed. Still, you and I both know, Comet, that Cortez's persistence is only going to serve to draw the more brutal side of John Duran out tonight."

 

Cortez, knowing that that little flurry of offense won't be enough to get a pin on the former champion, picks him up and backs him into the corner now. Cortez climbs up onto the second rope, looking out to the crowd and raising his right fist up in the air, before bringing it down onto Duran's forehead! The crowd roars with approval, and counts along with every shot Cortez gets in on him...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

FIVE!

 

SIX!

 

SEVEN!

 

EIGHT!

 

NINE!

 

TEN!

 

Duran staggers out of the corner, while Cortez ducks out to the apron. Clutching the top rope, Cortez watches every movement Duran makes, measuring him up. Duran scans the ring for his foe, and when he turns so that he's facing Cortez, Todd jumps up off the apron and onto the top rope, springboarding in and landing down on Duran's shoulders, taking him over with a...NO! Cortez tried for a rana, but Duran powers him back up into the seated position, holding him and possibly preparing him for a powerbomb! Cortez fights back, hitting Duran with more right hands, and he's able to daze him enough that Duran drops him! Cortez lands on his feet, and backs Duran into the ropes, but Duran reverses the whip attempt and sends Cortez in. Todd rebounds, and gets carried over with a back bodydrop by Duran...and again, is able to land on his feet!

 

"Such agility!” proclaims Cyclone.

 

 

Cortez spins Duran around, but before he can execute anything, he's grabbed around the waist and lifted up, as Duran has a hold on him, then drives him to the mat with a standing spinebuster! Duran falls with the move, laying across Cortez and hooking his leg, making his first pin attempt in this contest!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

The fans in the Target Center respond with the cheer that Montreal made famous, as Todd Cortez gets a shoulder up in time. John Duran simply shoots a stare in the direction of Hebner, then picks Cortez up off the mat, tucking his head under his arm and taking him over with a quick vertical suplex. Duran stands up, and again looks to bring Cortez back to his feet, but suddenly Cortez rolls behind Duran, taking him over with a flash schoolboy pin! The crowd pops loud, while Hebner dives back to the canvas...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Duran kicks out, and is quick to getting to his feet. He lunges at Cortez with a lariat, but Todd ducks, and Duran stops short by grabbing the ropes before he goes running through them. He turns around to see Cortez charging, and quickly tucks his head, pushing Cortez up and over with a back bodydrop that sees the Urban Legend splattering himself on the ringside floor!

 

Duran drops down, rolling out of the ring under the bottom rope, and standing above Cortez. Duran scans the crowd, looking at the fans before looking back down at Cortez and putting the boots to him, stomping on his back. Duran violently pulls Cortez up, tucking his arm under Todd's, and then bieling him into the ringside steps! The metallic stairs are knocked out of place, as Cortez slumps down against them. Duran comes over and props them up, putting them back into place, and then firing off a few punches to make sure that Cortez stays put. Duran backs up, then charges at Cortez with full power and a look of menace in his eyes, as he drives his knee...INTO THE STAIRS~!

 

"He moved! Cortez moved!"

 

Duran clutches his right knee, leaning over the stairs, while a groggy Cortez brings himself up with the aid of the guardrail. He walks over to Duran, nearly falling over in the process, but gets ahold of the Notorious One and rams his head into the apron before rolling him back into the ring. Duran lays on the mat, still favoring his right knee, as Cortez slides in right behind him. Cortez immediately goes to work, hooking the right leg and extending it, then kicking at the back of the knee. Duran grunts in pain as Cortez works over the damaged body part, maintaining control by holding the leg down and then driving his own knee into Duran's. Keeping a grip on the injured appendage, Cortez tucks Duran's ankle under his arm, and scissors his legs around Duran's right leg, cinching it tightly and wrenching back, putting the strain on with a single leglock that's tearing at Duran's knee!

 

"We've heard of the term 'ground and pound', but right now Todd Cortez is going for the 'wear and tear' on the leg of John Duran!"

 

"That's solid thinking by Cortez. He knows he can't go toe to toe with Duran's power, but by grounding the big man, he's got a better shot of getting one over on Notorious."

 

Duran shifts his body around, as he extends his left arm outward, trying to grab the ropes that are oh so near. Cortez pulls back on the leg, and the stretching and tugging on the ligaments inside of Duran's leg cause him to grit his teeth, trying to fight off the pain while he looks for a way out of the submission. Duran keeps shifting, sliding his upper body closer and closer to the ropes, reaching desperately with his left arm. Brian Hebner watches as Cortez stays with Duran, keeping a vice like grip on his leg, while the fans rumble and roar, not one of them wanting to see Duran break this hold. A collective "Awwww" let's out soon enough, though, as Duran is (barely) able to get ahold of the bottom rope, his grip slipping off of it once before he can get it firmly in his grasp. Hebner taps Cortez and orders a break, and Todd obliges, but not as quickly as most rule-abiding fan favorites would.

 

"Duran may have gotten free, Robert, but the effects of that move are going to hinder his chances at victory."

 

"For once, you're right. Duran relies heavily on pure power, and also tends to use his knees to wear down his rivals. Now, he's lost part of his offense due to the damage done to that knee."

 

Duran pulls himself up with the aid of the ropes, getting to his feet and limping, his face scrunched in a twisted look of agony as he attempts to walk. Cortez positions himself in a fighting stance, both eyes locked on Duran, and he delivers a roundhouse kick to Duran's knee, the instep of his foot creating a smacking sound against Duran's joint. The Notorious One winces, limping towards Cortez slowly. Cortez backs up a few steps, moving away and not letting Duran get in too close, then unleashes another kick that again creates a smack that echoes throughout the Target Center!

 

"Looks like Cortez took Muhammad Ali's advice. He's floating around that ring, and those kicks are surely leaving a sting." States the knowledgable Riley.

 

Cortez dances around Duran, watching him grow angrier with each connecting strike. Cortez moves in for the kill again, but this time Duran grabs the leg before it connects, but before he can react, Cortez leaps up and cracks him in the side of the head with an enzugiri! Duran turns away, his senses jarred after that kick. Cortez gets up, and waits on the unsuspecting Duran to turn around. As Duran turns back to his foe, Cortez jumps up with a dropkick, but has it swatted away! Cortez quickly recovers, but upon getting up finds two massive hands wrapped around his throat, as Duran grabs ahold of him! The Notorious One lifts Cortez off the ground, letting his legs dangle in the air as he holds him up, squeezing the air out of his windpipe before unceremoniously tossing him down to the canvas! Cortez coughs and wheezes as he makes it back to his feet, only to feel the force of a forearm cracking across his shoulder blades! Duran pummels the smaller Cortez with a few more similar shots, then takes Cortez and floors him with a backdrop suplex!

 

The crowd buzzes as Duran recovers, taking Cortez up to his feet and then locking him in a standing legscissors while hooking Todd's arms. With Todd unable to block, Duran takes his left knee, the good knee, and drives it up into Todd's ribcage, further bruising the already worn ribs of the Urban Legend. Duran then pulls Cortez up slowly to a standing position before reaching around his waist, lifting him up so that Todd's body is horizontal, and drives him to the canvas with a sideslam! Duran leans his weight into Cortez, keeping him pressed down for the pin...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

...but Cortez gets a shoulder up! Flustered, The Notorious One yanks Cortez up into a seated position, kneeling down behind him and wrapping one arm around his neck while holding Todd's head with the other, using his powerful grip to entrap Cortez in a sleeperhold!

 

"Good thinking by Duran here. He's got a bad wheel, and he can't afford to have Cortez flying around the ring." observes Cyclone Comet.

 

Cortez throws his arms out in desperation, looking for an out but unable to find one, as Duran leans in, tightening the grip with every attempt at escape. Hebner keeps an eye on the situation, making sure that it's not an illegal choke as well as checking on Todd's condition. The noisy crowd, which has been vocal during most of this matchup, continues on, showing their support for Todd.

 

"LET'S GO CORTEZ!" clap clap clapclapclap

 

"LET'S GO CORTEZ!" clap clap clapclapclap

 

The fans continue to encourage, but to their dismay Cortez's condition only worsens, as Duran has forced him from a seated position down to the canvas while still locked in the sleeper! Hebner crouches down, looking into the eyes of Cortez as they begin to close more and more, until he feels that Cortez is done. Hebner stands up, looming over the bodies of Cortez and Duran, and pulls up Todd's left arm, watching it drop. Hebner holds up a finger to the crowd, then takes the arm again. For the second time, the arm drops, and Hebner motions to the crowd that Todd has let his arm fall twice. Hebner reaches down for the third time...

 

"This could be it, Comet."

 

...Hebner pulls the arm up, and releases his grip on it, watching it slowly fall back into...NOOOOO! The crowd is ecstatic! Cortez keeps his arm extended! He's still in it!

 

“Todd Cortez is not going to let Duran turn the lights out just yet!" exclaims a jubilant Comet.

 

Cortez struggles, finally able to get back into a seated position, while Duran keeps the hold applied. The crowd resumes its chant for the Hollywood Boulevard member, as he slowly pushes up to one knee, attempting to counteract Duran's strength advantage. Cortez fights up, hitting Duran in the bread basket with repeated elbow shots, doing what he can to try to drive the former champion away. Never one to go down easy, Duran simply absorbs the blows, keeping his arms wrapped around Cortez's head, and then pulling him backwards, slamming the back of his head down into the canvas! The crowd boos relentlessly as Duran scans the angry faces in attendance, then casually flips them off before prying Todd off the canvas and again locking him in a sleeperhold! Cortez reaches out for the ropes, but he cannot grab them, as they're too far away. Duran again tightens the grip, forcing Cortez to grow weary, bringing him down to one knee. Duran furthers the effects of the move by leaning onto Cortez, letting his weight advantage work in his favor. Cortez waves his arms, and the show of resiliency pops the crowd, as they again chant his name...

 

"CORTEZ! CORTEZ!"

 

Todd fights up to his feet, again driving elbows into the midsection of Duran in a valiant attempt to stun him. Similarly to the last time, Duran merely flinches, but this time may have thought too much about the comeback, as he grip seems to have loosened! Cortez slips out of the vice-like grip and immediately uses a double leg takedown, putting Duran on the mat and looking up at the lights! Cortez quickly steps over Duran's right leg, setting up a figure four or another potential submission, but Duran sees it coming and quickly kicks Cortez away, sending him stumbling forward and butting heads with the referee, knocking him down!

 

"Hebner just got take out!" quips an observant Comet.

 

Cortez staggers, and Duran capitalizes right away by hitting him with a low blow, taking him right off his game!

 

“And so has Todd Cortez! Duran has just bought himself some recovery time.” says Comet, following up his previous statement.

 

John Duran surveys the damage, and seeing that both his opponent and the official are down, he rolls under the bottom rope to the floor, pacing methodically around ringside. Duran turns the corner, coming over near the timekeeper’s table, and motions for Funyon to get up off of the chair he’s sitting on. Funyon appears shocked, asking Duran if he means him. Duran reaches for Funyon, grabbing him by the lapels on his suit jacket, and yanking him up, tossing him aside in favor of the steel chair. Duran folds up the chair and turns around, teasing hitting Funyon before sliding into the ring. Duran stands up, wielding the chair, and as Cortez pushes himself to his feet, Duran rams the edge of the chair into his ribs, causing Todd to double over in pain!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

The jeers emerge from every fans mouth, as John Duran continues the assault, lifting the chair up over his head before slamming it down across Todd Cortez’s back, knocking him back down to the canvas. The Notorious One stands above his wounded foe, like a hunter would stalk his prey, and prepares for the opening he’ll need to deliver the one blow that could seal the deal. Cortez slowly gets up, visibly showing the effects of this battle, as Duran taps the chair on the canvas as if he were a batter prepping for a home run swing. Duran holds the legs of the chair in his grasp, lining up Cortez for the shot. He winds up, swinging the chair forward…BUT TODD CORTEZ CATCHES IT AND PULLS IT AWAY! CHAIRSHOT TO DURAN’S BAD KNEE!

 

“Todd Cortez is fighting fire with fire!”

 

The fans rejoice, as Cortez falls forward, catching himself before he hits the canvas. Duran has fallen to one knee, groaning in pain as he tends to it. Cortez stands up, and seeing Duran wounded, brings the chair down across his head, knocking John Duran’s lights out!

 

“The party’s over, and Cortez just turned out Duran’s lights!” shouts an overzealous Riley.

 

Cortez disposes of the chair, tossing it over the ropes to the floor, and quickly covers Duran, keeping him covered as he waits for Hebner to recover. Hebner gets up holding his forehead, and after a minute of rest, opens his eyes to see Cortez covering Duran. The fans motion for Hebner to get down and count, as they know that Cortez has just cemented his victory with the double chair shots.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

THREE….NO! NO! JOHN DURAN KICKS OUT!

 

“Simply amazing!” hollers Comet.

 

Fans and foe are collectively shocked, as EVERYONE thought that Duran was done for! Thinking quickly, Cortez drags Duran closer to a corner, laying him within close range. Cortez then climbs the turnbuckles slowly, getting to the very top one and turning around, sitting perched like a gargoyle on the top. Cortez stands up, balancing himself on the top, and then dives off, coming down with velocity and dropping a leg across the throat of Duran! Cortez immediately covers Duran and hooks a leg, shouting for Hebner to count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

THREE!!!

 

 

NO~!

 

“He kicked out AGAIN, Comet!”

 

“Todd Cortez is at a loss. He thought he had this won, and frankly, so did I!” admits Comet.

 

Cortez gets up and looks around the crowd in disbelief. Feeling that anymore hesitation could kill his chances of victory, he reaches down and pulls Duran up, but the Notorious One collapses to one knee, his right one probably looking more like Jello than a joint at this point. Cortez reaches down again, but as Duran is being pulled up, he quickly wraps his arms around Cortez and spins over, surprising Cortez with a snap powerslam that came out of nowhere! Duran keeps Cortez pinned to the mat, waiting on Hebner’s count…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

THRE…NO! NO! KICKOUT BY CORTEZ!

 

“Another close call! This match could go on for another hour!” quips Riley.

 

Probably not wanting to wait that long to hit the showers, Duran gets up, backing away from Cortez to give him space to regroup before moving in for the kill. As soon as Cortez is able to stand up straight, Duran spins him around and scoops him up, holding him across his shoulders.

 

“Blunt Force Trauma! If this connects, it’s over, make no mistake!”

 

Duran holds Cortez up, but before he can execute his finisher, his knee buckles under the extra weight, and Duran loses his grip on Cortez! The Urban Legend slides off of Duran’s back, and quickly turns him around, tucking his head under his arm and cradling him in a small package! Cortez holds a squirming Duran down with all his might, as Brian Hebner dives to the mat, slapping his hand on the canvas with the count!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!!

 

THREE!!!

 

“He did it! Cortez just defeated the former SWF World Champion!”

 

The fans scream loudly, as Cortez’s theme is cued up and Funyon makes the official announcement.

 

FUNYON

HEEEERE IS YOUR WINNER…THE URBAN LEGEND, TODDDDD CORRRRRTEZZZZZZ!

 

Duran sits up, not looking happy at all, while Cortez has his hand raised by Hebner. Cortez climbs up on the ropes, looking out to the crowd before looking up to the sky and pointing, the words “thank you” able to be made out although he says them softly.

 

“What a contest, and what a victory for that young man! Todd Cortez gets one in the win column against a man not many gave him a chance against!”

 

“Huge win for the rookie, no doubt. It was a brutal match, but the end result is all that matters, and I think Todd Cortez is satisfied with that result!”

 

“I’m inclined to agree, Robert. Cortez is off to celebrate, and we’re off to commercial. Back with more SWF action after this!”

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

… "I’m head of the class… I’m popular…”

 

Much to the dismay of the fans in the Target Center who immediately fire off a round of boos; the opening line to Nada Surf’s “Popular” announces the return of SWF Lockdown from commercial break! As the song starts getting into its groove, pounding across the arena, a golden pyrotechnic shower flows from just below the Smarktron, and here comes Mike Van Siclen – waltzing out from backstage with not only two title belts, but the biggest chip ever on his shoulders!

 

“Welcome back, Citizens,” greets our exuberant masked announcer, Cyclone Comet. “You are just in time for a little bit of a triple threat!”

 

“And what a match it looks to be,” adds Bobby Riley, trying his hardest to edge Comet out. “Someone here tonight is going to take the next step up the ladder, making them within arms reach of the ultimate prize in our business!”

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” booms Funyon, “the following match scheduled for ONE FALL is a TRIPLE THREAT match to determine the number one contender to the SWF INTERCONTINENTAL-TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP! Introducing first…”

 

Once in the ring, Mike stands in the dead center, standing with his hands on his hips, grinning from ear to ear as he awaits Funyon to announce him.

 

“Weighing in at two-hundred and TWENTY-three pounds, he hails from Harrison, Illinois, he is the Spectacle, and he is YOUR SWF HAAARDCOOORE AND TAG TEAM CHAMPIOOOON… MIIIIIIIIKE VAAAAN SIC – LEN!”

 

“But the question is who, Bobby, who will make that climb!? Though Pa Kent would be rolling over in his grave, it could very well be our first man out here tonight - Mike Van Siclen. He already has two slices of gold around his waist, and a win here tonight will position him for a third!”

 

“It could,” agrees Riley, “and Mike would certainly be living up to his promise of capturing every title in the SWF at the same time… but there’s another man in this match who you definitely don’t want to count out just yet!”

 

“Introducing second,” booms Funyon, just before the lights dim, and 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 Target Center to a sensational pop from the crowd, while on the stage, a thick-white smoke begins billowing out, completely immersing the stage! All the while, dozens of strobes light up the set, partially illuminating the Barracuda as he steps through the curtains and strolls into the middle of the smoke… and finally emerges through the cloud at the top of the ramp.

 

“But lets go ahead and count this guy out,” says Bobby. “This was not who I was talking about!”

 

“Why not,” returns Comet. “The Barracuda has been a fighting Cruiserweight Champion, taking on comers of all sorts - it’d be no surprise to me for Operative Dangerous to win this match. Of course… that’s not counting the fact that Mike Van Siclen, the man who injured the Wildchild is one of Johnny’s opponents in this match -- the pursuit of JUSTICE~ could be enough to distract his attention from the actual goal here.”

 

However, Mike is seemingly absent from the ring, opting to hover around ringside as Johnny makes his way into the ring…

 

“Just like the sniveling little coward that he is,” mutters Comet, shaking his head in utter disgust.

 

“Please, Comet, Mike is just being studious enough to clear the ring for Johnny Dangerous. He’s going far above the expected call of duty by doing so – show him a little respect!”

 

“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 hands off the Cruiserweight title belt to referee Anthony Michael Hall for safekeeping, as his title is most definitely on the line tonight… for once.

 

“Introducing third,” bellows Funyon, as Johnny’s music fades, replaced by a solid, hard drum fill…

 

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

 

Muse’s “Hyper Music” suddenly kicks up, pounding across the arena, and with each strike, a blinding flash of white pyro strikes the Target Center! The song really kicks into gear, and Ace Lezaire strolls out from backstage – Steve, his personal cameraman, following a step behind him and filming every single move, quirk, and expression Lezaire gives away.

 

“From Vancouver, BC, Canada,” says Funyon, “and weighing in at two hundred and thirty pounds… he is your Canadian hero… ACE LEEEZAIIIIIIRE!!”

 

“Now here is the man I was actually talking about,” says Bobby. “Ace Lezaire is coming off a hot win over former SWF World Heavyweight Champion, John Duran, and a win here would not be surprising in the least.”

 

Ace strolls to the ring at somewhat more of a leisurely pace, while carefully guiding and maneuvering himself under, around, and past the row of filthy outstretched Minnesotan hands!

 

“Very true,” concedes Comet, after mulling over Bobby’s comments. “However, you’re forgetting that just two shows ago Citizen Lazaire faced the Barracuda for the Cruiserweight Championship… and lost. What’s to stop Johnny from defeating him twice?”

 

“How about the fact that Johnny has all of what… one or two moves, three max? Now that Ace is well aware of Johnny’s offense, he is more than prepared. Plus, after the way Johnny made him submit that last time, I’m sure he will be foaming at the mouth to extract some sort of vengeance!”

 

Lezaire slides into the ring and motions to Steve to capture the moment as he climbs up the turnbuckle, looking for the arena to light up with hundreds of flashbulbs for his sexy poses… and just barely ducks a plastic beer cup whizzing by!

 

“At this rate all Citizen’s Van Siclen or Dangerous will have to do is wait for a foreign object to strike Ace, and take him out of action,” quips Comet.

 

“Oh, shut up.”

 

Hall calls all three men into the ring, making a quick rundown of the rules before turning towards the timekeeper and signaling for the bell.

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

The last dinging of the bell barely escapes the timekeepers table when Johnny glances up, and finds himself in the middle of the ring with his two opponents carefully circling around him – growling and snarling, eager to sink their claws into the Barracuda’s hide. He darts his attention back and forth between Lezaire and Van Siclen while rotating himself in place, anticipating a forthcoming attack…

 

“And the Barracuda is treading in some deep waters here,” notes Comet. “Both Citizens Lazaire and Van Siclen seemingly have a score to settle with Johnny Dangerous – The Barracuda is really going to need to keep his head on a swivel here!”

 

The stalemate continues, until a low rumbling in the crowd quickly turns into a full fledged chat…

 

“JOHN-NY!”

“JOHN-NY!”

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“Will you just listen to that crowd,” marvels Comet. “I think there is no question as to who’s’ side these fans are on tonight!”

 

Johnny extends his hand to the Minnesota crowd, acknowledging their chants while Ace turns his focus towards them, sneering at the ignorant fans…

 

 

SMACK!

 

“OOOOOOOOH!”

 

 

…and the Barracuda rushes in, blistering Lezaire’s face with an open handed slap! The crowd roars their approval as Lezaire stumbles back, but before Johnny can move in with a follow up he feels the ring rumbling as Van Siclen storms in from behind…

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

…and Dangerous quickly spins around with a lighting-quick spinning back fist, dropping the Spectacle to the mat! Mike swiftly rolls back to his feet and charges right back towards the Barracuda, but Johnny is one step ahead of the game; quickly latching his arm around Mike’s, he arches back and flips the Spectacle to the mat with a Japanese-style armdrag! Johnny raises his arm out to the crowd as he spins back towards Lazaire…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

…and turns into a stiff shoulder block by Ace, flooring him instantly!

 

“Johnny better stop worrying about the crowd,” remarks Bobby, “or he’s going to find himself looking up at the lights before he knows what’s happened to him!”

 

Jumping back up to his feet, Johnny tries to get defensive, but Ace speeds in and quickly drives a knee into the Barracuda’s midsection before Johnny can even do so much as bat an eye! Johnny doubles over, leaving himself wide open for Lezaire to continue his attack and of course… Ace takes the opening, pounding into Johnny’s back with double axe handle after double axe handle, driving Dangerous deeper and deeper into the ring like he were hammering a nail into a thick piece of wood!

 

“Citizen Lazaire is really coming alive early on in this match up,” reports Comet. “But here comes Citizen Van Siclen…I wonder if he’s coming to even the odds up?”

 

Sure enough, Mike Van Siclen strolls up to the battle scene and as he does, Ace quickly strikes a defensive pose, leaving the Barracuda writhing on the mat. However, Mike has other plans and he quickly lets it known with a quick exchange of words to Ace, though not quite audible… Not even Ace’s personal cameraman, Steve, is close enough to pick up the verbal exchange. Mike motions to Johnny then moves his finger back and forth between Lezaire and himself, finishing it off with a backhand to his open palm and making sure the “SMACK~!” rings out across the arena.

 

“It would appear that Citizen’s Lezaire and Van Siclen are plotting an evil course of action even as we speak,” notes Comet. “Most likely it involves them teaming up to take the Barracuda out of the picture, leaving the rest of the contest up to them to decide!”

 

“And an excellent plan to boot,” adds Riley. “There is absolutely no need for Johnny Dangerous to be here tonight… he’s like the annoying third wheel that tags along on dates then begs you to buy him popcorn. Ace and Mike would be far better off just jettisoning Johnny out of the ring quickly then focusing the real match between themselves.”

 

Ace nods in approval to Mike with a sheepish grin, and the pair immediately move to reacquire Johnny off the mat. Each man grabs an arm of the Barracuda and with a sudden snap they jerk him upright, and simultaneously step forward, whipping Johnny across the ring. Dangerous hits the ropes and bounces back, just as Ace takes Mike by the arm and whips him across the ring towards Johnny…

 

 

SMACK!!

 

 

…and Mike SLAMS his forearm across Johnny’s throat, instantly flooring him with a clothesline! Mike quickly pulls Johnny back up by his hair, smiling devilishly as he prepares to whip the Barracuda across the ring towards Ace…

 

“This is just reprehensible,” growls Comet. “These two villains are taking great pride in outnumbering an opponent and simply humiliating him to pieces! I’d like to know…Whatever happened to the concept of a three way match being every man for himself!?”

 

“As if it’s ever been every man for himself,” snickers Bobby.

 

However, Mike whips Johnny not towards the awaiting Lazaire, but instead whips the Secret Agent across the ring…

 

…and into the corner turnbuckle. Johnny hits the steel post back-first with a bone-crunching thud, grabbing a quick “OOOOH!” from the crowd! Ace, meanwhile, simply stares a whole through Van Siclen, his indignant act duly noted.

 

“What was that all about, Robert? Ace looked like he was waiting for Mike to send Johnny his way, but Citizen Van Siclen apparently wants to hog Johnny all to himself!”

 

“Ace wasn’t ready for Johnny,” replies Riley. “Didn’t you see Lazaire blink his eyes? Mike made a split-second decision for the better of the team, and it looks like it has worked out for the better – Johnny’s back is on the verge of blowing out!”

 

Johnny staggers out of the turnbuckle, holding to his back as he clenches down on his teeth, trying to fight back the pain. Mike rushes across the ring, charging straight for the Barracuda and dives for Johnny, throwing all his weight forward…

 

 

WHAM!!

 

 

...and Mike rams his shoulder straight into Johnny’s sternum, spearing the Barracuda back into the steel post with a loud “CRAAAAACK~!” followed by a horror stricken cry of pain from Johnny! Mike grabs the Barracuda by his shoulder before Johnny has the chance to slump to the mat, and pushes him back against the post. He struts backwards across the ring, stopping once he reaches the middle…then rushes forward and leaps up…turning a complete 360º before slamming into the Secret Agent with a body splash!

 

SMACK!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

“The Answer,” mutters Comet, with a disgusted look. “That very same move was one of the Wildchild’s only he called it a Blue Crush. Citizen Van Siclen is just trying to spit in the Barracuda’s face by using that move!”

 

Riley just rolls his eyes. “Oh, please,” he says, “It’s not like Wildchild had a patent on that move or something, nor is he here to utilize it anymore. Mike is simply trying to keep the memory of the Bahama Bomber alive in our fans.”

 

“He’d still be here to use it if it weren’t for Mike Van Siclen.”

 

“Oh, for Pete’s sake - The horse is dead, Comet, can we lay off the beatings yet!?”

 

Johnny comes out of the corner reeling, the fact that he’s even standing is something short of a miracle, but still he stands. However, Ace swoops in from behind and latches an arm around the Barracuda’s waist, hauling him off the mat with a suplex…

 

“Ace better watch out,” exclaims Comet. “He’s too close to the ropes, there’s nowhere for the Barracuda to land!”

 

Precisely to Lezaire’s plan…He heaves back and releases, sending Johnny flying over the top rope and crashing down to the thinly-padded arena floor with a huge thud!

 

“Holy s(bleep!)t,” shouts Bobby. “Good thing the concrete floor was there to break Johnny’s fall! Now we can focus on the real match Mike Van Siclen versus Ace Lezaire!”

 

But first Mike has to get one last lick in! He quickly steps out to the outside apron and glides to the turnbuckle and climbs up. He takes one last look to make sure Johnny hasn’t moved and to measure his distance while the crowd fires of a volley of boos. Mike dismisses them with a wave and a roll of his eyes then places his back in the direction of the Barracuda as he begins to stand fully upright on the turnbuckle.

 

“Come on now,” snaps Comet, obviously growing irritated by the less-than-sportsmanlike treatment of the Barracuda. “Enough is enough! These two have already beaten Operative Dangerous to a pulp, and now Citizen Van Siclen is looking to top it off with a moonsault of some sort!”

 

On the side, Ace notions toward Steve to zoom in on him and make sure he’s recording. He then spins around and marches straight up toward Van Siclen, giving Mike a thumbs up with a wide-toothed grin. Mike nods, then hunkers down and brings his hands forward, ready to back-flip off the post…

 

 

 

 

 

WHEN ACE GRABS MIKE BY THE FOOT AND WHIPS HIS LEG BACK, SENDING THE SPECTACLE HEAD-FIRST…

 

 

ALL

 

THE

 

WAY

 

DOWN

 

 

… TO THE FLOOR!

 

WHAAAAAM!!

 

“Son of a b(bleep!)h,” curses Bobby, his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. “Ace just took Mike off the turnbuckle with a rather…simple…yet effective maneuver there – that traitor!”

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

“HO-LY SHIT!”

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“But I don’t think the fans mind one bit,” notes Comet. “It’s about time this makeshift team was ended!”

 

Mike pushes off the floor and gets to his knees, growling viciously while holding his head tightly as the Canadian Hero, Ace Lezaire drops to the floor from behind. He snaps on a side headlock to Mike, clenching it in as tight as he can while pulling a struggling MVS to his feet…

 

Mike fires an elbow into Lazaire’s side, and it seemingly puts a wrench in Ace’s gears – stopping the pressure to his skull! However, it only seems to enrage Ace and he rushes forward…

 

 

WHAM!!

 

 

…and Ace plants Mike’s skull into the steel steps! Mike’s head bounces off like a racquetball off the wall and he teeters backward…right into Lezaire’s waiting arms! He grabs a handful of the Spectacle’s hair, pulling him back to his feet before leading Mike back to the ring, and rolling him back in.

 

“Mike isn’t doing to well right now,” reports Bobby. “He’s taken a serious bump to the head and it’s causing him to loose his ground in record-breaking time!”

 

Stopping flat on his back, Mike stares uo at the spinning ceiling, seemingly in a daze. A daze that is soon shaken as Ace grabs Van Siclen’s leg and wraps it around his own…

 

“Figure Four Leg Lock,” calls Comet, just before Lezaire flops backwards, firmly locking the move in! Howls of pain come soaring out of Mike’s mouth, and that’s all the self proclaimed Canadian Hero needs to hear in order to tell that he’s got the move locked in with deadly accuracy! “I don’t think Citizen Lazaire is really trying to get a submission here, but rather his strategy is to utterly decimate Mike’s leg!”

 

“Well… I don’t think he’ll complain if Mike Van Siclen taps out though,” Riley replies.

 

Mike reaches out behind him, after catching an eyeful of the red ring ropes…and finally he grabs on, holding for dear life to it! Hall calls for the break and at first Ace refuses to let go - that is until the referee threatens a count and Lezaire finally releases Van Siclen from his torture!

 

“And judging by the look on Citizen Van Siclen’s face as he tries to stand back up on that leg, I’d say Ace Lezaire did some damage there!”

 

Mike charges in a limp for Ace, looking to finally deal out some serious damage… but a sharp pain in his leg momentarily distracts him. Instinctively, the Spectacle’s hand moves down to the tender spot on his leg, and that is all the opening Ace Lezaire could ever hope for! He steps in, and whips the toe of his foot into Mike’s ribcage, doubling him over then taking Van Siclen by his head and dropping him across Lezaire’s shoulder!

 

“It’s the Greatest Ever Finisher in the History of Everything,” exclaims Riley, as Mike rockets off Ace’s shoulder and goes bouncing away, crumpling to the mat in a messy heap! “Ace Lezaire is going to take the next step up in his career – we have us a new challenger to the Intercontinental-Television championship!”

 

Lezaire quickly scrambles across the mat and heaves his body over Mike’s as Hall drops to make the count!

 

 

ONEEE!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOO!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEE-NOOOOO!!!!!! Just before Halls hand can make the third and final count, Johnny, on the outside of the ring, grabs Mike by his foot and rips him out of the ring!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

 

“What!? NO… Why is he back up!?”

 

Ace jumps back to his feet scowling at the Barracuda then quickly takes off across the ring, heading to the far side. He hits the ropes and comes rocketing back, building up some serious steam before he drops down and pulls his left leg in and sticks his right leg out with a baseball slide…

 

CRACK!

 

Nailing Johnny in his chest with the sole of his foot, and knocking him back into the crowd barricade!

 

“Citizen Lazaire doesn’t look to happy,” notes Comet. “He is simply livid that Johnny broke his cover!”

 

Ace slides out of the ring and shoves back on Dangerous, pushing him up against the barricade then cocks his arm back…

 

SMACK! “WHOOOOOOO!"

SMACK! “WHOOOOOOO!"

SMACK! “WHOOOOOOO!"

SMACK! “WHOOOOOOO!"

 

…and Lezaire unloads with a series of eye-watering knife-edged chops, lighting up Johnny’s chest! The Barracuda drops down to his knees while clutching his chest and groaning in pain, but Lezaire slaps on a quick arm wrench and leads Dangerous back up to his feet. He steps forward, whipping the Secret Agent across the length of the ring…

 

 

KA-RAAAAAAACK!!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOH!!”

 

 

…and Johnny goes sailing head-first straight into the steel post, chopping his forehead against the serrated metal! His head bounces off the post like a well-aired basketball, sending him spinning on one foot before finally crashing…and burning into the arena floor! Steve the cameraman rushes around the corner and quickly zooms in on Johnny with Ace standing triumphantly over the Barracuda as blood begins to ooze from Dangerous’ forehead!

 

“Whoa,” shouts Comet. “Ace just fillets the Barracuda there – spiking his head into that metal post, and BUSTED Operative Dangerous wide open! I hate to say it… But I don’t think Johnny is going to have much more left!”

 

“That’s what happens when you nose into other peoples business,” spits Riley. “By all accounts Ace had this match won, but Johnny--the annoying little gnat--once again ruined it! He got what he deserved right there.”

 

Knowing full well that he can get a pin fall out of Johnny at this point, Ace pulls the Barracuda up to his feet and rolls all the deadweight into the ring, drawing a trail of blood across the canvas. Ace crawls after Johnny, pressing both palms deep into the Barracudas chest as Hall slides in for the count…

 

 

ONEEE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOO!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-WHAAAAAAM!! Hall stops his count just short of three as Mike dives for Ace, dropping an elbow across the back of his neck!

 

“NO! Saved by Citizen Van Siclen! How’d he get back in the ring, somebody throw him in!?”

 

Lezaire’s hand instinctively shoots to the back of his neck as he rolls to his feet, wincing in pain, and stumbles to the ropes. Mike pulls himself back up, his leg is throbbing and he is still woozy from hitting his head on the concrete floor, but he pushes on! He finally stands, and slowly he begins making his way across the ring towards Ace while hoping to work the kink out of his leg as his hand massages it.

 

“Mike Van Siclen is really showing how much intestinal fortitude he has here,” notes Bobby. “He’s got to be seeing stars still and his leg must be killing him, but still he pushes on!”

 

“But he’s taken a lot more damage than Citizen Lazaire – He’s going to have to stage one heck of a comeback if he wants to win this!”

 

Ace suddenly fires off the ropes, looking to land a big time lariat on the Spectacle, but Mike ducks under the arm, reaches behind, and nails a quick neck breaker! He staggers back to his feet, and finally lets a smile cross his lips as he can feel the momentum starting to shift in his corner. Mike grabs a handful of Lezaire’s hair and begins pulling him up to his feet…halfway up, Ace sends a sharp jab into Mike’s gut, stopping Van Siclen as he doubles over…

 

“He’s got him,” exclaims Bobby, watching as a sickening grin comes across Lezaire’s face, but paying absolutely no heed to the Barracuda behind him – slowly rising to his feet. Ace lunges up as he spins around, putting his back to Mike’s front and hooking his hands around Van Siclen’s head…

 

“STUNNER!”

 

NO! Mike shoves Ace off him and Lazaire goes stumbling forward…

 

 

CRAAAAACK!

 

 

“JOHNNY KICK,” exclaims Comet, with a newfound sense of enthusiasm as the crowd goes completely wild. “I don’t even think Mike realized Johnny was waiting there, but he pushed Lezaire right to him…and right into a Johnny Kick!”

 

Ace is floored instantly, and Mike’s mouth is left resting on the canvas. Surprised that Johnny is back up, all Mike can do is stare in awe at the Barracuda – his face is covered in a crimson mask… His breaths are heavy, and his growl is ferocious! Johnny staggers a step forward, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that he hasn’t much left in the tank and he is simply running off the fumes of his own adrenalin! Mike clenches down on his fist, grinding down on his knuckles, and with a mighty battle cry he rushes the Barracuda and swings his fist with enough force to level a city block!

 

Comet winces, “If this hits, the Barracuda is going to be done for!”

 

NO!! Johnny swings his arm around, batting Mike’s arm away from him and thrusts his open palm forward into Van Siclen’s face, right between the eyes, in a brutally vicious Shotei Palmstrike! Mike is forced backwards, reeling from yet another shot to his head, and Johnny steps forward, wiping the blood from his head and slinging it to the mat then spins on his leading leg while bringing his back leg up…

 

 

 

THWHAAAAAAAAACK!!

 

 

 

…and slamming the heel of his foot into Mike’s cranium with a spinning heel kick to a roar of cheers! Van Siclen goes flying back into the ropes and is unintentionally propelled forward off of them…

 

…Johnny quickly floats around behind Mike, stopping him at the head of Ace Lazaire who is still lying face up on the mat (though starting to come to his senses) as the Barracuda under-hooks Mike’s arms with a full nelson and jerks him perfectly upright…off his feet…into the air…

 

 

KA-RAAAACK!!

 

 

-AND DRILLS MIKE’S HEAD FACE-FIRST INTO LEZAIRE’S, CRACKING BOTH MEN’S SKULLS TO A LOUD “OOOOOOH!” FROM THE CROWD!!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“DANGEROUS DROP,” exclaims Comet, as Mike ricochets off of Lezaire, popping back to his feet and falling into the ropes. “BAH ZEUS, ALMIGHTY, MIKE VAN SICLEN IS COMPLETELY OUT OF IT!”

 

“T-T-That had to be the most underhanded thing I’ve seen all year,” Riley frantically shouts. “Not only is Mike Van Siclen hanging onto his consciousness by a very thin thread… but look at Ace Lezaire!”

 

Ace painfully rocks back and forth on the mat, holding his head and simply writhing in sheer agony! He rolls to the side, unintentionally going under the bottom rope, and finally…drops to the floor like a sack of spoiled meat, landing with a thud! On the other side of the ring, Mike staggers off the ropes, desperate to keep himself alive in this contest though the arena is spinning, and he can barely keep himself standing! Sensing the approach of the Barracuda, Mike makes a fruitless swing at Johnny’s head, crying out with every last drop of energy he has left…

 

 

WHOOSH!

 

…and Johnny easily ducks the blow and quickly grabs hold of Van Siclen’s arm… Mike closes his eyes and grits down on his teeth, knowing there is nothing more he can possibly do to thwart the Barracuda, and he knows this even before Johnny jumps up…scissoring Mike’s arm between his legs and pulls the Spectacle to the canvas!

 

 

“I don’t think there is even another drop left in Citizen van Siclen’s tank,” says Comet, as Johnny, having pulled Mike Van Siclen to the mat, rolls to the side, completely locking in a deadly Crucifix Armbar to a blood-curdled cry of pain from Mike’s lips. “That’s it! That’s it! Johnny has the Jujigatame – the Crucifix Armbar locked in, there is no escape form that…and Ace Lazaire is nowhere in sight to break this attempt!”

 

Finally, Mike Van Siclen is left with one of two choices; Tap, or loose the use of your arm.

 

“Fight it, Mike,” shouts Riley. “Don’t worry you still have another arm!”

 

However, the pain the Jujigatame produces is the most unbearable physical pain one could ever imagine and Mike…wisely chooses the latter…

 

 

TAP!! TAP!! TAP!!

 

 

Hall quickly rises up and motions to the timekeeper to ring the bell, ending this match for once and for all!

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“Your winner by submission,” booms Funyon, “and now…the number one contender to the SWF INTERCONTINENTAL-TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP… JOHNNY ‘THE BARRACUDA’ DAAAANGEROUUS!!”

 

“What a match,” cheers Comet, as “After the Flesh” begins pounding across the arena and the crowd goes ballistic. “Johnny Dangerous emerges victorious in spite of all odds, and will you just listen to that crowd! He is now the number one contender to Citizen Bailey’s ICTV title, claiming that next step up the ladder as his own!”

 

“No matter,” hisses Riley. “Johnny’s little streak of wins may have continued tonight after taking advantage of another mans hard work, but there is no way Johnny Dangerous can claim the second richest prize in our business – the Barracuda is out of his league!”

 

Though it wasn’t on the line in this match, Hall returns the Cruiserweight Championship to Johnny then raises his arm in victory to another sound cheer. Johnny slings the title over his shoulder and lurches forward, resting his hands against the turnbuckle.

 

“We’ll see how well he does when he gets to that match,” says Comet. “Tonight however, tonight… you have witnessed one man take the first step to rise out of the pack, to become something more than just another face and to challenge the leaders in this federation for their spot… and for their gold!”

 

Johnny ascends the turnbuckle and raises his arms out to them, dangling the Cruiserweight Championship from one hand while hundreds of flashbulbs explode…

 

 

 

 

 

 

As we:

FADE OUT.

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

SWF Lockdown comes back to live air, as a random, and redundant infomercial comes to a close, after it was done hawking the idea of owning your condom machine. The wild SWF fans of Minneapolis, Minnesota rauciously await further in ring action, choosing to spend there time in the near future to wave their homemade signs and do their best to find their way onto TV screens for a split second. The camera panning becomes faster and faster, trying to show the viewer just how jam packed the Target Center is on this mild, May evening. Finally, after enough stalling, a ringside camera focuses upon the announcers table, where two legends, Bobby Riley and Cyclone Comet sit, doing another show of Lockdown.

 

Riley: Is that a different cape you are wearing tonight, Comet. I thought it was a simple blue cape, but it looks like a sky blue to me.

 

Comet: Actually, it is a sky blue. It’s not a new cape though. I bought this one back in, I believe, a few Novembers ago. I think it may just be the exceptional lighting in this very arena that is causing your eyes to be amazed by my sharp fashion sense.

 

Riley: Yeah. It really brings out the color in your eyes. Which are usually hard to see for some odd reason?

 

Comet: Welcome back to SWF Lockdown, citizens! We have had a splendid show thus far, and it will only get better. Be show not to go to the kitchen too long to pour yourself a healthy glass of orange juice, as later on in the night, the best of five series between Dace Night and Tom Flesher continues. Dace Night leads two to one in this series, and he looks to make it all end before the ‘morrow. However, he must close Flesher out tonight in a UFW Points System match.

 

Riley: All bets are off on this one.

 

Comet: But next, David Blazenwing takes on a man making his WF return tonight. That man is Munich. To be honest I don’t have much to say about this man. All I know - - is that you know a good deal about him, Bobby. Educate us, Citizen Riley!

 

Riley: Munich debuted in the then IGNJL three years ago. He dominated the league for the time he was there, quickly capturing the IGNJL Eastern United States Championship, and shortly thereafter the IGNJL World Championship. During this time, he led the stable X Force Nine to prominence, giving it a boost that it would hold onto for a very long time. He got bumped to the WF on September 11, 2001. That ominous beginning led to him drifting around the Hardcore Title for a while, until he suffered a leg injury and proceeded to hobble out of the WF on bad terms. Last I heard he is still bothered by the leg injury.

 

Comet: You are an encyclopedia full of energy, Citizen Riley!

 

Riley: I try.

 

Suddenly, the lights in the arena go out and "Last Resort" by Papa Roach starts playing as the entire stage explodes in emerald flames. There are various shots of David Blazenwing throughout his career on the screen as Blazenwing walks out onto the stage. The crowd cheers, supporting the superstar as he rolls into the ring. Funyon is ready with the microphone to make his introduction.

 

Funyon: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, David Blazenwing!!

 

Comet: Lets see if Blazenwing can get back on the right track here, and pick up an honest victory. However, he must realize that the returning Munich is more than up for the challenge.

 

Riley: His leg may not be. It’s going to be his weakness for a long time.

 

David Blazenwing walks over to the closet turnbuckle and sits down against it, then starts banging his head against the pad as his music fades. He wears his usual attire of green khaki pants, green t-shirt with black over-shirt, and black wrist tape. He gives off a recluse look as usual.

 

The crowd waits patiently for one of their former fan favorites to return.

 

The opening of Sunna’s “Power Struggle” brings life to the PA, and the crowd roars immensely, giving the return of the cradle pile driver master a healthy positive response. However, the song quickly fades away, and is instead replaced by “Gimme Shelter” of The Rolling Stone. Munich walks out; wear a black t-shirt and pants. Inside the shirt’s pocket sits a pack of cigarettes. At the top of the ramp, Munich takes the cigarettes out of his pocket and places them vertically on the ramp. Munich lifts the shirt off over his head and throws it onto the steel to few squeals from the female audience. Funyon gets ready to enthusiastically reintroduce Munich to the SWF audience.

 

Funyon: And his opponent, from Dallas, Texas, making his return to SWF action, Munich!

 

Comet: Listen to this ovation for the homecoming, Citizen Munich. He can probably still sell a lot of t-shirts!

 

Riley: He’s bigger, looks stronger. He must have put on some muscle to compensate for his leg injury. And I can now see why he wore a t-shirt before.

 

Comet: Maybe he’s not afraid to be himself, Citizen Riley.

 

Riley: You’re one to talk.

 

Comet moves his cape away from Riley’s vision.

 

Comet: I have no idea what you mean by that statement, Citizen Riley!

 

He makes a quick walk to the ring, slight smile stretching across his face as he sees that people still do like him a bit. He deftly slides under the bottom rope, and goes about doing warm up exercises in the ring, all the while keeping an eye on Blazenwing, who still sits up in his tower. Senior referee Kivell makes his way into the ring, causing David to rise up from his purgatory and get focused on the match, and not his self loathing. The two fan favorites advance to the center of the ring, where Kivell checks them for weapons and maybe crack pipes. Kivell tells the good man with the bell to ring like it’ll be his time ever doing it.

 

*DINGDINGDING!!!*

 

Comet: Lock up Lex Luthor, here we go!!

 

Riley: Zuh?

 

Blazenwing, mad at the world, stares off into space, or maybe section 19, where a girl is flashing the section around her. He wants to use his knowledge of the female anatomy to find out her bra size, but is too depressed to care about such things. He walks towards the center of the ring, expressionless. Munich gives his semi-long hair a nice lip, cracks the left side of his neck, and heads to the center as well. After they arrive to the center, the taller man raises his arms, showing his palms to David, asking for a test of strength. David accepts. Munich takes advantage of his superior strength and backs Blaze down to his knees. David grimaces with pain. With his opponent subdued for the moment, Munich springs Blazenwing off of his knees to his feet. With a grunt, Munich drops to his knees. He releases the hold on one of David’s arms, and uses the arm to carry the younger man in a fireman’s carry. After getting David down on the mat, Munich flips him over, and locks on a quick STF! The crowd erupts after the move is locked in. However, Blazenwing is too strong to be taken down this early into a match, and he scurries to the ropes and puts his free leg around the bottom. Munich releases the hold.

 

Comet: Munich is off to a good start, Riley. He seems really focused tonight. He looks to be setting up the neck or the leg for far stronger attacks.

 

Riley: The neck. He thinks that he can work the neck.

 

Comet: Thinks?

 

Munich backpedals as the ref moves him away from David, but right away, he goes back onto the attack, delivering solid boots to the back of Blaze’s neck, trying to wear David away. Munich, done delivering his stomps, drags David across the ring, away from the camera. Blazenwing whips off of the ropes and looks the center of the suddenly spacious ring, and sees Munich waiting for him, doubled over, his long hair covering his eye sight. Perhaps trying to stretch this out more than it should be, David really picks up the pace, runs around Munich, bounces off the ropes again, and comes at this opponent from behind. Munich realizes something is wrong, very wrong. The former JL World Champion turns his head to the left, just in time to see a charging Blaze. He tries to do something, but rust seems to have taken him to a state he didn’t want to be in, defenselessness. Blazenwing grabs him by the head and leaps into the air, Munich being forced off of the mat with him. Bam, wham, splat goes Munich, as his visage is driven to the mat with a devilish Blazecution! Munich goes limp in the center of the ring, his eyes looking straight up into the beautiful lights of the Target Center. Blazenwing quickly hooks a leg and Kivell is right there.

 

ONE!

TWO!!

THRE-NO!!!

 

Munich just barely kicks out, his whole world upside down.

 

Comet: This match almost ended in the first minute! I think we can account that blunder to ring rust, Citizen Riley!

 

Riley: No, he just shouldn’t be here.

 

Blaze quickly stands from the mat; he gives a slight expression of amazement before he starts laying his own stomps into Munich’s head. The stomps, while hurting, strangely seem to be helping him get back to his feet. Dazed and confused, Munich is brought back to his feet and whipped across by the stockier man. David waits until Munich returns. Munich nearly stumbles coming back, surely feeling the effect of the modified ace crusher. Munich returns, and is leveled in the forehead with the Dragon Whip. The veteran once again crashes to the mat. Blazenwing, somewhat confident, puts on a lateral press.

 

ONE!

TWO!!

THR-NO!!!

 

Comet: The resilient Munich kicks out again! The heroic Munich cannot keep going along like this, however!

 

Riley: He’s not resilient, he’s dead. Or, he’s just dying!

 

David looks down at the pile before him that is named Munich. He figures that enough is enough, and heads to the near corner. The crowd comes to their feet, sensing that the end is near, via The Full Effect. Blazenwing stomps his boot to the ground, causing the ring to reverberate continuously. The stomping continues until Munich finally climbs to his feet, his eyes hazy. Blaze charges out of the corner, rolls his legs to get full power to his foot, and blindly shoots his boot out towards Munich’s head. David makes contact, but it is as if he dropped his leg into a three foot deep layer of mud. He gets stuck and looks around to see a wobbly Munich grasping a hold of his leg. The Dallas native pulls Blazenwing over, drops the leg, and grabs the back of David’s head, pressing it to his large shoulder. Munich drops to his knees, and lands a Plan M out of pure desperation! The force sends Blaze flying to his back, and his hands clutching out his neck and jaw. Munich stumbles back to his feet, and awkwardly makes his way to the nearby ropes. He grabs a hold of them heartily, trying to regain his bearings.

 

Comet: Munich had the instincts to block the Full Effect! He’s trying desperately to stay alive and regain his old form!

 

Riley: This isn’t ring rust! The bastard just doesn’t belong in the ring with David. Not that I like Blazenwing, but he is whole worlds above Munich.

 

Blazenwing, jarred from the jawbreaker he has just taken, sucks it up and advances over towards the recovering Munich. David is floored across the ring into the opposite after, in a flash, Munich’s left hand swings powerfully, and clubs him in the chin. After hitting Blaze with the Vile, Crashing, Devastating Left Hook, Munich takes a deep breath and advances into the corner, where he delivers a couple of boots to David’s midsection, slowing him up. Munich, however, gets greedy and throws another left hook, only to have Blaze dart of the way and let Munich spin into the corner. David reflexively gives Munich a hard kick to the ribs, the sound causing the crowd to groan. With M’s wind knocked out of him, Blazenwing quickly darts back to the opposite corner. He stops on a dime as he reaches it, and then comes roaring back into Munich’s corner. He leaps high into the air, and comes down on Munich with a Stinger Splash, knocking to the rest of the air out of his body! Munich crumples and rolls outside to the floor, in front of the announcer’s table.

 

Comet: Every time Munich seems to gain some much needed momentum in the early going of this match, he messes up again with a rookie mistake.

 

Riley: He just doesn’t feel it. I don’t think he’ll feel it again. With this beating he is taking, I don’t think that he’ll be back for, at least, another two years.

 

David quickly exits the ring to go after Munich, who tries to climb to his feet on the outside, clutching his ribs tightly with one arm as he steadies himself with the other. Blazenwing goes on the attack once, delivering three quick strikes to the kidneys with his right boot. The former SJL Champ is dragged back to his feet, and is quickly put into a face lock. David drapes on of Munich clenched fists over his neck, and then in one fluid motion, smacks Munich to the floor with a snap suplex! Munich sits straight up, arches his back, and screams out in pain before falling back to the floor. David takes a moment to regain his own wind, before rolling into the back and back out again to halt Kivell’s ten count. He stalks Munich once more.

 

Comet: What will it take for Munich to get up to Blazenwing’s level? David is picking him apart, and doing a good job stretching out his attacks.

 

Riley: Maybe it will take a massive loss of blood.

 

Comet: No, I believe that would hurt Munich even more.

 

Riley: Good riddance.

 

The crowd does not know whether to cheer or boo David at this point, as they like him, but hate seeing Munich slowly being turned into someone who is FUBAR. Munich starts to climb to his boots again, and sees a charging Blazenwing. He quickly throws out an elbow, striking an unsuspecting David in the chest. Blaze is, much to his opponent’s chagrin, not affected very much this developed, and gives Munich a knee to the gut as the bigger man rises. Quickly, he positions himself and tries to whip Munich into the unforgiving steel stairs. Munich tries to quickly reverse it, and does, only to have David reverse his own reversal of the Irish whip. Blaze lets go as Munich looks to rocket into the stairs. Blazenwing falls to the floor due to the force of this reversal sequence. Meanwhile, the 260 pound man known as Munich goes flying into the steel stairs. The impact is indeed harsh, as he clips the stairs with his right knee and goes flying into the railing, the souls of his boots turned upwards towards the roof. He collides into the barrier, his upside down back taking the most of the damage. The crowd immediately breaks out into a “Holy Sh*t” chant, while Munich hangs by the hamstrings on the barrier. Finally, he falls to the slightly padded floor, making a nice thud on impact.

 

Comet: Jumping Jack Flash! This has got to be one of the most painful nights in Munich’s storied career!

 

Riley: I agree. David Blazenwing is destroying him. At the same time, he is putting him out to pasture.

 

Munich has no time what so ever to recover from one of the ugliest moments of the night. David drags his near lifeless body over to the steel ring post, and drapes Munich’s legs over the exposed bottom of the steps, the other half of them lying next to the timekeeper, who was nearly killed by the top of the steps. Blaze stands on top of the stairs and grabs his victim’s legs, lifting the man’s ankles to his waist. He looks out into the crowd for support, but gets none, as the crowd is still buzzing from the last move. Blazenwing rockets his body backwards, and uses his own force to catapult Munich towards the ring post! The most disturbing sound in professional wrestling, one of a human head coming together with a steel object, is heard in the Target Center. The veteran is laid out and falls onto his side, his head shrouded by the ring apron.

 

Comet: Steel is indeed Munich’s kryptonite.

 

Riley: So is wrestling.

 

Munich is bleeding badly. He rolls over away from the apron, and blood quickly flows from a deep gash in his forehead onto the floor. Munich, looking like a drunken baboon, takes a shaking left hand and fingers the wound on his forehead. He looks at the crimson liquid on his fingertips, and a small smirk breaks out on his face. David goes in once again to break the count, the entire time staring at the pile of bloody human rubble below him. He sits on the apron for a second with a small look of disbelief plastered deep into his face. He comes back down to the floor as Munich starts to crawl to the announcers table. Blaze grabs the now soggy mane of his opponent, as Munich finally gets a hand on the top of the table. Unable to properly control himself, the crimson masked man’s hand slides across the table, leaving a slick trail of blood.

 

Comet: Citizen Bobby, why do you have that smirk on your face?

 

Riley: Because this goes to show us we aren’t out there anymore. We’ll wind up like that disgrace.

 

Comet: I’ve heard Munich thrives in this type of environment. This is bloody adversity, Citizen Riley.

 

As he is dragged up from the table, Munich looks into the evil, doubting, hating eyes of Bobby Riley. Something is seemingly turned on inside Munich’s head, as he reaches around, grabs a handful of David’s hair, and slams him face first into the table to a large pop, from an unexpecting crowd. Blaze reels from the blow, a streak of Munich’s blood now on his forehead. Munich, with a sudden rush of energy, puts a front face lock on the dazed Blaze, grabs a belt loop of David’s pants, and lifts him high into the air, looking for perhaps a suplex. After he gets him over his head, Munich hold him right there for a few minutes, letting the crowd go bananas over the scene taking place. Finally, Munich falls, slamming Blazenwing down in a hanging vertical suplex!! Blazenwing groans and lays down on the floor, while Munich, definitely now in control, once again awkwardly climbs to his feet, blood pouring down from his forehead, and now decorated his chest, droplets getting caught in his chest hair. After a wipe of the forehead, Munich looks out into the crowd, and sees much adoration giving from him. Without a moment’s notice, Munich advances over to David’s prone body, and drags him over to the base of the remaining steel stairs. The larger man locks in a tight front face lock, and looks out into the crowd, getting quite the reaction. Finally, Munich twirls his body, and delivers a dominating C-4 Crank on David!! Blazenwing immediately grabs his neck and assumes the fetal position on the floor. Munich, the color red most likely the dominant color in his vision, takes a moment to breathe in a much needed breath.

 

Comet: Citizen Munich may have just broken David’s neck with that swinging neck breaker! He’s really feeling it now. This is his fight!

 

Riley: Don’t worry, he’ll blow it.

 

Munich, seeing Kivell’s count reach near, hoists Blaze to his feet, and throws him into the ring, while the chant of “Munich! Munich!” rings through his ears. David rolls in while still holding onto his overly stiff neck. Not wanting to the waste the time to drag him to the center of the ring, Munich throws on a quick cover by the ropes. Kivell quickly gets down and makes the count.

 

ONE!

TWO!!

THRE-NO!!!

 

Comet: Blazenwing survived with a grab of the nearby ropes!

 

Riley: Another mistake by Munich. He’s been digging his own grave the entire match.

 

Munich, frustrated, along with the crowd, drags David to the center of the ring. He makes sure that David is on his stomach, and then proceeds to drop two elbows to the back of Blaze’s neck, targeting the point. Immediately after, Munich walks over to the near corner, climbs through the ropes, and starts to the climb the turnbuckles. He quickly reaches the top, and takes a moment to plant his feet perfectly on the top, before leaping off. He outstretches his leg, looking for his old patented guillotine leg drop. David moves, however, and Munich slams against the mat, his tender leg taking the most of the fall. The former SJL World Champion clutches it and rolls to the center of the ring, howling in pain.

 

Comet: That was a leap of faith if I ever saw one!

 

Riley: More like a leap of cynicism. He knew - - he knew something was going to go wrong! And something sure did go wrong.

 

Comet: Citizen Blazenwing could very well win this one right now!

 

After taking a moment to tend to his aching neck, David sees his bloody adversary on the mat, stomach down and clutching his leg. Not passing up this opportunity, Blazenwing slides over to the prone Munich, and takes his left arm between his legs, and then tears at the head of Munich with both hands clamped in a cross face. The pain of The Shock Lock is excruciating to both men, especially with the stress put forth on David’s injured neck.

 

Comet: Shock Lock on Citizen Munich! This could be the end!

 

Riley: Of course it is. He doesn’t have what it takes to survive!

 

Comet: He has survived through the match thus far, Citizen Riley.

 

Riley: You know what I mean!

 

The former leader of X Force Nine is stuck in the middle of the ring, his legs in too much pain to scurry towards the ropes. Blazenwing grimaces in pain, but he holds on, waiting for Munich to tap out. However, the pain in the neck, along with the slipperiness of Munich’s red forehead causes to relinquish the hold to a huge pop. David falls away, grabbing onto his neck. Meanwhile, Munich painfully crawls to the ropes and then pulls himself to his feet, while David does the same on the other side of the ring. After a slight delay, they both unsurprisingly move to the center. They start to trade wild punches.

 

Comet: Back and forth action here on Lockdown!

 

Finally, David, in the midst of the fistfight, goes back to the left arm, but Munich is waiting for him, and drives a hard kick to Blaze’s exposed stomach, doubling him over. In one quick motion, Munich delivers the C-4 Crunch! He goes for the pin!

 

ONE!

TWO!!

THREE!!!!

 

*DINGDINGDING!*

 

Comet: And Citizen Munich wins in his first match back!

 

Riley: He was smart to take it to David while they were on the outside.

 

Comet: He remembered what got him here before, I suppose.

 

Funyon: Your winner, by pinfall….Munich!

 

“Gimme Shelter” blasts on the PA once more, as the crowd cheers wildly. Munich quickly makes his exit out of the ring, as he hurts; bad. And SWF Lockdown goes to commercials.

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

The door to the Commissioner’s office opens and Toxxic steps through. The Straight-Edge Sensation opens his mouth to speak... and Alex Zenon cuts him off with a glare and a raised finger before he has a chance to say a word. The Commissioner simply points the remote control in his hand at the tv screen in the corner of the office and presses ‘Play’.

 

Rickmen feels the ladder swaying, of course, and knows he’s no longer alone. So he kicks out downwards, but Toxxic manages to avoid it and reaches up to club Rickmen in the small of the back. The Insane One’s breath shoots from his lungs as he bends double over the top rung, but he knows that he can’t just perch there with an opponent behind him. So Rickmen manages to turn around so he can at least see where he’s trying to kick.

 

This is, under the circumstances, not a good move.

 

*CHING!!*

 

For the second time in the match Andrew Rickmen’s happy-happy-joy-joy area is traumatised, this time from a Toxxic headbutt. The Insane Luchador hunches over as white lights seem to go off in odd portions of his brain... and seeing an opportunity, Toxxic turns around on the ladder as well.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

Swiftly, he places one of Rickmen’s limp legs over each shoulder.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

Rickmen is already bending over, so Toxxic reaches two black-nailed hands up and locks them around the back of the Insane Luchador’s neck, trapping all of his opponent’s body inside the cradle of his arms.

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

And on the commentary table, Cyclone Comet suddenly realises what is about to go down.

 

“Oh no...”

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

Toxxic stands up, his rung of the ladder taking their combined weight for a moment... then he jumps forwards, sitting out as he does so.

 

And they fall down...

 

...down...

 

...Down...

 

...DOWN...

 

*BAM!!*

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“HO-LY-SHIT!”

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“DANGERLUST OFF THE LADDER AND THROUGH THE TABLE!” Comet screams as Kivell stands in shock for a moment before diving down to count. “Has Toxxic lost his mind!?”

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner,” Funyon booms as the Lostprophets ring out over the Target Center for the second time, “TOXX-IIIC!!”

 

 

“What... the... FUCK... was that?” Zenon asks softly but menacingly. “I warned you after you used it against Blazenwing. I ignored it after you used it against TokyoX. And now you drop one of our longest-serving wrestlers on his head, off a ladder and through a fucking table!?” The interim Commissioner has started to get worked up and finishes by shouting in the Brit’s face. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t suspend your ass right now!”

 

“Because I’m facing Kibagami at 13th Hour, and for all your supposed professional attitude you’d like nothing better than for me to beat him,” Toxxic replies quietly.

 

Zenon steps back for a second and looks at the Straight-Edge Sensation. He opens his mouth to deny it... and closes it again after a couple of seconds. Alex Zenon had his chance to beat Kibagami, and he failed. He managed to accustom himself to the Silent One’s presence in the federation, HIS federation. He just about managed to swallow the fact that Nathaniel became World Champion, although it left a nasty taste. It is possible to adjust to a lot, given a little time; Zenon had made a decision that he wouldn’t dignify Kibagami with any special treatment, whether that treatment would have been positive or negative. But now it seems that these two men, Toxxic and Kibagami, are on something of a collision course. They are both going to be doing their best to take the other one out at the Pay-Per-View, and Alex Zenon is in the enviable position of taking considerable satisfaction should either one succeed. Kibagami is an old enemy; Toxxic just gets on his tits.

 

“I still want to know why you pulled that stunt out there tonight,” he says instead. Toxxic snorts with humourless laughter.

 

“Trust me, I wasn’t going to use the Dangerlust tonight. But Rickmen was putting up a fight, and...” the Brit shrugs. “It turned out to be the easiest way.”

 

“OK,” Zenon responds, weighing the Brit up. It certainly looks like he’s telling the truth, but then again... “You know, I think we need to be building to the Pay-Per-View next show. So I’m going to rescind that little ruling about Nathaniel’s suspension that I made last week, because on Smarkdown it’s going to be you, Ace Lezaire and Tom Flesher teaming against Dace Night, Ryan Dustin... and Nathaniel Kibagami.”

 

“Now hang on a sec,” Toxxic protests, becoming a little more animated. “I’m not teaming with that fucktard Flesher, the guy’s a twat!”

 

“I’m not arguing with you about Tom’s personality,” Zenon replies, trying to restrain a small smile. “But you will be teaming with him on Smarkdown. The only question will be whether the ring can take the combined weight of your egos...”

 

“Fuck you, Zenon,” Toxxic responds, and turn to leave - but Alex grabs him by the arm.

 

“Make the most of your match on Monday,” he tells the straight-edger. “Whether you like him or not, you’ll have a good partner, and Lezaire’s no slouch either. But come a week on Sunday, you just might find out why most people don’t go around looking for matches with the Silent One once they’ve pissed him off.” Zenon stands back and smiles. “Whatever happens won’t bother me in the slightest, but I felt I’d better warn you.”

 

“OK, well here’s my suggestion to you,” Toxxic replies, shaking the Commissioner’s hand away. “Come a week on Sunday you sit back, relax, put your mind back two years where you seem to be fixated anyway... and jack off over a Midnight Carnival match while I take Nathaniel Kibagami out. Just don’t get in my way until then.”

 

The Straight-Edge Sensation leaves, slamming the door behind him. But Zenon hardly notices; instead, one sentence is going around in his brain.

 

“After that you can do whatever the fuck you please; suspend me, fire me, whatever.”

 

“How nice of you to say so...” Alex murmurs to himself.

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

“Welcome back, citizens, this is SWF Lockdown!”

 

Cyclone Comet’s voice rings above the chaos as the Smarks Wrestling Federation explodes back onto the airwaves! The Target Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota is going crazy because, well, Minnesotans don’t get a lot of action! Normally, we would feel sorry for them, but since they’re getting match four of the Tom Flesher/Dace Night best-of-five series, there’s no sympathy here!

 

“What an EXCITING evening it’s been so far, eh, Bobbo?” Comet enthusiastically asks his colleague.

 

“Oh, yeah, great,” Riley begins, not quite as enthusiastically, “just wake me up when Flesher’s on.”

 

“That may take a while, Bobbo, because up next, it’s the ENDLESS four corners match!”

 

“I have to admit,” Riley replies, “Masked Man is cool because he’s a quasi-criminal. Jimmy Liston is great because –hello – he’s associated with Toxxic. Tryst and Ryan Dustin? Please, go back to the vanilla line where you came from.”

 

“I happen to like Tristan Witt myself,” Comet snaps back, “we have many similar qualities. And Ryan Dustin is a FIRECRACKER, and has a very bright future in the SWF…given he can stay away from the alcohol.”

 

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” Funyon begins, “the following contest is an ENDLESS four corners match, scheduled for…um, three falls! Introducing first…”

 

*! BOOM !*

 

Pyro simultaneously travels and explodes (HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?!?!?) up the ramp to the entryway, as Cradle of Filth’s “Born in a Burial Gown” rocks the speakers of the Target Center! The Minnesota fans immediately begin jeering, but as the Demon appears on the stage, he is completely focused on the ring as a red spotlight follows him down the ramp.

 

“From Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at 228 pounds, this is JIIIIIIIIMMY ‘THE DEEEEEEMON’ LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISTON!!!!!!!!!”

 

Liston reaches the ringside area and slides into the ring, before raising his fist into the air, to another wave of jeers for the crowd. He turns towards the entrance and begins preparations for the match.

 

It looks like Liston will have to do preparations in strobe, as the lights start flashing like a WANK LOG! “Misirlou” kicks into full gear through the arena speakers, and the crowd is half apathetic, half jeering! From behind the curtain walks a man on a mission, a man in black, and, quite simply, a man with a mask.

 

“From Craiova, Romania, but currently residing in Orofino, Idaho, weighing in at 243 pounds, this is the wrestler known worldwide as the Sexual Maskosaurus, this is THE MAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSKED MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!”

 

Masked Fury continues his cool walk to the ring, taking the time to adjust his tie as he reaches the ringside area. He places his briefcase next to the ring steps and jogs up the stairs, and as he reaches the apron he slingshots over the ropes and into the ring. Keeping away from Liston, Masked Man does a few athletic hops before removing his sports jacket and taking a separate corner.

 

Suddenly, the Minneapolis audience (and the television audience, can’t forget them) are whisked into a whimsical forest, where a man shoots an arrow!

 

*! BOOM !*

 

System of a Down’s “Forest” hits, and the crowd goes stylishly crazy as the Robin Hood-look alike steps onto the ramp!

 

“From Bairnsdale, Britain, weighing in at 218 pounds, this is the SHEEEEERWOOOOOOD FAAAAAAABLE, this is TRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYSSSSSSSST!!!!”

 

Without hesitation, Tristan Witt rushes down the ramp, right to the ringside area! He hands his bow and quiver of arrows to the timekeeper, before sliding into the ring with his opponents!

 

“And, finally…”

 

N.E.R.D.’s “Lapdance” (‘say,’ think the fans, ‘didn’t this used to be some jobber’s theme before?’ but then they remember it was Landon Maddix’s theme, and stop thinking) hits, and a wave of cheers washes through the Target Center! The Real Deal appears on the ramp with his arms crossed, and then begins walking down the ramp, slapping some fans’ hands as he goes!

 

“…from Carson City, Nevada, weighing in at 228 pounds, this is RYAAAAAAAAAN DUSSSSSSSSTIIIIIIIIIN!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Dustin hits the ringside area and leaps up to the apron, before climbing up to the turnbuckle and sizing up his three opponents. However, he turns to the crowd and back flips into the ring, much to the delight of the crowd. Unfortunately, just as he completes his flip, Jimmy Liston charges at Dustin and blindsides him with a forearm smash to the back of the neck, abruptly beginning the match!

 

*DING DING DING*

 

The Demon takes advantage of his, well, advantage, keeping Dustin in the corner and pummeling him with right and left fists to the midsection! Meanwhile, Tryst tries to intervene and stop the wicked demon, and The Masked Man simply reclines in a corner, before pointing his index finger at Dustin, and then Liston, and then Tryst, mumbling incoherently.

 

“What in Poseidon’s kneecap is Masked Fury doing?” Comet asks, “he’s not even participating!”

 

“I think…” Riley begins, “wait, yes, he is, Masked Man is playing a quick game of eeny, meany, miney, mo to determine his first victim!”

 

Sure enough, Masked Man’s finger stops…on the Sherwood Fable! As Tryst turns Liston around from his assault on Ryan Dustin and kicks him in the midsection, Masked Fury charges and lifts his leg up, surprising Tryst with a knee lift to the back! The force of this pushes Tristan against the ropes, and TMM turns him around before peppering him with right hands to the face! Adjacently, Dustin regains his footing, and fires off a hard shotei to Jimmy Liston’s jaw! TMM takes Tryst by the arm and whips him towards the opposite side of the ring, and as Witt rebounds, Masked Man swings his arm out for a clothesline…but Tryst ducks! However, as he continues running, Dustin takes Liston’s arm and whips him, inadvertently into the oncoming Tryst! The Demon falls back against the ropes, while the Sherwood Fable staggers back, right into Masked Man’s waiting arms (figuratively)! The Romania native drops down to his knees and grabs Tryst’s legs, pulling them out and causing Tryst to fall flat on his face!

 

“What a collisionorific coincidence!” Comet cries, “Citizens Liston and Witt both experienced a meeting of the minds, and now citizens Dustin and Mask, respectively, are in control!”

 

“You know what, Comet?” Riley begins, “I think I hate Ryan Dustin. I mean, I admire the guy’s affinity for alcohol, but his nickname is ‘the Real Deal’. Can you get any more cliché than that?”

 

The Sexual Maskosaurus continues his assault on his fellow European by mounting his back and pounding it with alternating forearm smashes! Dustin, on the other hand, is able to lock arms with Jimmy Liston and flip him over, onto the mat with an armdrag! The Demon gets right to his feet, and Ryan catches him with another armdrag! Masked Man, meanwhile, drags Tryst up to his feet and again takes his arm, whipping him towards the corner…but Witt extends his arms out, stopping himself from hitting the turnbuckle! TMM blindly charges at Tryst, but the Sherwood Fable shoots his leg back, connecting with a stiff kick to Masked Fury’s solar plexus! As Masked Man staggers backward, holding his chest, Tristan leaps up to the second rope and leaps off, shooting his leg back again, this time nailing a flying kick to the masked face, sending him down to the mat! Ryan Dustin traps Jimmy Liston in a front facelock, quickly grabbing onto his tights before powering him up into the air upside down vertically, but the Demon shifts his weight and lands on his feet behind the Real Deal! Ducking under Dustin’s arm, Liston lifts him up and falls backwards, drilling his first of three opponents with a back suplex!

 

“The tide in this match has turned already,” Comet proclaims, “in both match-ups! Tryst is using his speed advantage to surprise our Sexual Maskosaurus, while Jimmy Liston is utilizing his amazing suplex skill to figuratively tackle Ryan Dustin.”

 

As Tristan Witt reaches down and brings the Masked Man to his feet, Jimmy Liston stays down and covers Dustin, prompting referee Nick Soapdish to count the first pin of the match!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TW – NO! Dustin kicks out, and Liston forcefully brings him up to his feet. Tryst traps Masked Fury in a front facelock in preparation for a DDT of sorts, but the might-be hired gun stops the move by sending his fist into Witt’s midsection not once, not twice, but thrice! Masked Man shoves the Sherwood Fable off of him, and quickly leaps into the air, swinging his leg around for an enzuiguri.

 

But Tryst ducks! The Sexual Maskosaurus lands flat on his stomach and face, allowing Tryst to sit out, hitting a leg drop to the back of Masked Man’s head! Meanwhile, Liston pounds, yes, even more punches into the head of Ryan Dustin, before taking him by the arm and whipping him towards the ropes! Dustin hits them and rebounds, allowing Liston to charge forward with his head lowered for a shoulder block…but the Real Deal drops down, making like [insert hot baseball player of the week] and sliding between the Demon’s legs! Dustin pops right up behind Jimmy, and surprises him by leaping up and kicking his legs out, sending a dropkick right into Jimmy’s spine!

 

“The SWF’s other resident superhero and the loveable drunkard are certainly making an impact!” Comet declares, “The Sexual Maskosaurus and the Demon may be in some trouble!”

 

“Trouble schmouble,” Riley replies, “they’re just biding their time. It won’t be long until they’re back in their respective driver’s seats, controlling the match.”

 

With Ryan Dustin and Tristan Witt both on their feet, the Sherwood Fable sees an opening and kicks his legs out, nailing a front dropkick that catches Mr. Dustin completely off guard! Dustin falls back against the turnbuckle, and Tryst wastes no time in approaching him! He sizes the Real Deal up, before leaping into the air and flipping backwards, nailing Dustin with a big back flip kick! The crowd erupts into cheers, and Dustin staggers slowly out of the corner! As he does, Tryst grabs Ryan in a headlock and runs forward, powering him down with a bulldog just as Liston and Masked Man get to their respective vertical bases! Instead of making a beeline for their attackers, however, TMM charges at the first person/demon he lays eyes on! Liston sees Masked Man coming out of the corner of his eye and turns, sending a hard kick right into Masked Fury’s midsection! The Masked Sensation doubles over, allowing Jimmy to scoop Masked Man up, holding him sideways before dropping to a knee and nailing his adversary with a rib breaker!

 

“And we have new pairings!” Comet oh-so-helpfully points out, “it’s like square dancing! Come on, Bobbo, take your partner by the hand-“

 

“…I think,” Riley interrupts, “this is a WRESTLING match, Comet. And plus, there’s no way I’d dance with you. I heard what kind of movies you made in East Asia.”

 

Tryst brings Ryan Dustin right back up, but once the rookie gets to his knees, he quickly grabs onto Tryst’s legs and pulls them out from under him in a double leg takedown! From there, he flips over Tryst’s fallen body and brings the legs over with him, executing a beautiful bridged pin that Nick Soapdish counts!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

AND A KICKOUT!

 

Tryst powers out of the pin and rolls onto his stomach, pushing up on all fours. Seeing this, Dustin thinks fast and flips over Tryst’s body again, this time rolling him over into a pinning predicament known as the Oklahoma Roll!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREEHEGOTHIMNOHEDIDN’T!!!

 

Liston, meanwhile, tries to keep the advantage on Masked Man by dropping a big elbow down on the fallen Fury…but TMM rolls out of the way and Liston hits nothing but mat! Masked Man reaches his feet and catches his breath, allowing Liston to get up on his own accord. As he does, Masked Man fires off big right hands to the Demon’s face, and then surprises him with a big kick to the kneecap! With his opponent off guard, Masked Fury locks his arms and legs with Jimmy’s and falls back, sending him up and over and onto the mat with a monkey flip!

 

“It seems as though all of these men are taking different game plans in this match!” Comet proclaims, “Citizen Dustin is trying to surprise Tryst with his quickness and technical savvy, while Masked Man is taking a much more deliberate pace to hold onto his advantage.”

 

“I wish they’d just kill each other, honestly,” Riley bluntly states.

 

“You don’t have a sensitive bone in your body, do you, Bobbo?”

 

“I sure do, Comet!” Riley claims, before performing a demonstration, “See, it’s quite simple, really.” Riley then begins banging his elbow on the announce table. “Oh, there we go. Funny bone, Comet. Damn that feels good.”

 

Dustin and Tryst are both back up to their feet, and Tryst quickly takes Dustin by the arm and whips him into the ropes! Dustin returns with his shoulders lowered, but Tryst jumps into the air, leapfrogging over him as Dustin hits the other ropes. As he comes back, Tryst shoots his leg backward with a big mule kick that catches the Real Deal square in his real breadbasket. As Dustin doubles over in pain, Tryst runs to the ropes and jumps onto the second rope, springboarding off…but Dustin moves and Tryst stops himself, landing on both feet. However, Dustin surprises Witt with his quick-as-lightning style and runs to the same ropes, springboarding off of the second rope and shooting his legs out, nailing a HUGE springboard dropkick that takes Tryst down to the mat! Dustin covers, and Soapdish counts!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

ANOTHER KICKOUT!

 

Masked Man, meanwhile, is having a dandy time with Jimmy Liston, as he stands side-by-side with him and locks hands, before sweeping his leg out and sending him hard into the turnbuckle with a Russian leg sweep! As Liston falls against the corner, the Sexual Maskosaurus begins shooting hard kicks at Jimmy’s legs and chest! Dustin, however, brings the Sherwood Fable back up and stands back to back with him, grabbing onto his head and placing it on his shoulder! As Dustin prepares to sit out for his Real Deal neckbreaker variant, Tryst uses all of his strength to power off of Ryan and run towards the turnbuckles! As Ryan turns around, he sees Tryst leap onto the second rope and leap right off, shooting his leg out and nailing a huge kick to his chest! The blow pushes Dustin against the ropes, and as he comes back, Witt quickly captures him in a vertical suplex position and hoists him up, twisting around!

 

“He’s going for the Crusade!” Comet cries, “This could end the match for Ryan Dustin right here!”

 

“It’s endless, Comet, the match wouldn’t actually end. He just…you know, couldn’t win.”

 

However, Ryan shifts his weight, and he’s able to drop down on his feet, behind Tryst! Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around Tryst’s midsection and rolls backward, bringing Tryst over into a rolling prawn hold, which he then bridges as Nick Soapdish counts!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

TRYST SHOOTS HIS SHOULDER UP-

 

 

BUT NO! HE CAN’T!

 

 

THREEEEE!

 

 

*DING*

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon bellows, “Tryst has been ELIMINATED!”

 

The fans give a very mixed reaction, some Minnesotans cheering for Dustin, while the others boo the early elimination of the Sherwood Fable. Both Tryst and Dustin get to their feet, the latter ready to face the repercussions of his craftiness…but instead, Tryst only nods at Dustin and leaves the ring, standing at ringside.

 

“Now THAT is sportsmanship,” Comet commends, “Bobbo, maybe you should be taking notes!”

 

“I’ll take notes when it matters,” Riley replies, “and that’s when Tom Flesher kicks Dace Night’s ass later tonight!”

 

Meanwhile, Jimmy Liston has just finished a picture-perfect vertical suplex on the Masked Man, unaware (or, at least apathetic) of the elimination of Tryst. As soon as Masked Man hits the mat, Liston gets to his feet and locks eyes with Ryan Dustin. The two men charge at each other, but the quicker Dustin is able to duck under Liston’s charge. The Demon spins right around, however, and before the Real Deal can strike, Jimmy lowers his shoulders and wraps his arms around Dustin’s midsection, running him right into the corner! Liston attacks Dustin with – you guessed it – hard right hands. However, Masked Man is back on his feet and he’s peeved. He comes up behind Liston and pulls him off of Ryan, before taking a hold of him in an inverted facelock! Fluidly, Masked Fury drops to a knee, which drives Liston’s neck into TMM’s knee! Masked Man brings the Demon right up and keeps a hold on his head, this time standing back to back with him and quickly dropping down, nailing a neckbreaker!

 

“The Sexual Maskosaurus makes his presence felt with the Blood Money combo,” Comet states, “and with only three people in the ring now, one really must have eyes in the back of their head to watch out for surprise attacks!”

 

“I bet Masked Man knows that feeling,” Riley chuckles, “I mean, I’m sure he’s spent some quality time in the slammer. Quality time, get my drift? Oh ho ho…get it, Comet? I said quality-“

 

“I became aware of what you said the FIRST time, Bobbo,” Comet replies, agitated.

 

Masked Man stays right on top of Liston, beckoning Nick Soapdish over to count the pin!

 

ONE!!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

AND A KICKOUT!

 

 

Masked Man brings Liston right back up to his feet, and seeing Dustin still resting up in the corner, he grabs the Demon’s arm and whips him towards the same corner…but Liston spins around and reverses the whip, sending Masked Man right into Ryan Dustin, no, Dustin moves out of the way, and TMM crashes right into the turnbuckle! As Sexual Maskosaurus staggers backwards, both Liston and Dustin duck under one of his arms and lift him into the air, falling back and driving him into the mat with a double back suplex! Masked Man flops over onto his stomach from the impact, and rolls under the bottom rope to the outside of the ring. Dustin is slightly distracted by this, which allows the Demon to send a kick right into his gut! He gets his opponent in a standing headscissors and reaches down, lifting him up onto his shoulders in powerbomb position! From there, he lifts Dustin up slightly, and then flips him around, before sitting out and dropping him down to the mat face-first!

 

“THE DESCENT!” Comet yells, “That’s one of Citizen Liston’s deadly finishing maneuvers! Stick a fork, a spoon, heck, a whisk in him, Dustin’s done!”

 

Liston covers Dustin, just as Tryst does his duty to humanity and grabs Masked Man on the outside of the ring as Nick Soapdish begins counting.

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!

 

 

Tryst rolls Masked Man into the ring-

 

 

THREEEEEEEEE – NOOOOO! Masked Man is rolled right into the grounded Nick Soapdish, which stops the count! The crowd erupts at Tryst’s inadvertent save for the Real Deal.

 

“You wanna talk about INJUSTICE?!” Riley cries, outraged, “that’s bloody ridiculous!”

 

“Bobbo, once a participant is eliminated, the rules don’t apply to them. Tryst can do whatever he wants. In fact, he was just sending Masked Man back into the ring, nothing more, nothing less.”

 

Liston looks up at Nick Soapdish, absolutely furious! However, he sees the real culprit is Masked Fury, and gets to his feet and walks over to him, forcefully bringing him up to his feet! The pissed off Demon shoves our Sexual Maskosaurus against the ropes, asking him just what the HELL he thinks he’s doing! After a brief hesitation, Liston takes Masked Man by the arm and whips him towards the opposite ropes. Mask hits them and comes back, but ducks under Jimmy’s clothesline attempt! Now both men run towards opposite ropes, and as they come back at each other, TMM is just that much quicker, and able to lace his arm under Jimmy’s, palm his face, and sweep his leg out, SPIKING him against the mat with the reverse half-nelson STO that he calls the Maski Pad! Liston hits the mat HARD, and even TMM has to stop for a second to collect himself. However, as soon as the aggressor gets up to his knees-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-Ryan Dustin is able to shoot his leg out and nail Masked Fury in the face with a super kick! As Masked Man falls back under the ropes, Dustin sees Liston down and, still shaking the cobwebs out, he climbs the nearest turnbuckle. Still facing towards the crowd, Dustin raises his arms to the receptive Target Center before leaping into the air, spinning around 180 degrees, and then effortlessly flipping a whole 450 degrees and landing SMACK on top of Jimmy Liston with an AMAZING Stardustin’ Press!

 

“STARS SPLUTTERING THROUGH SPACE!” Comet marks out, “that was an absolutely amazing and incredible Stardustin’ Press! I’ve never seen anything like that in a very long time!”

 

“Way to put it over, Comet,” Riley sighs, “but come on, it wasn’t that great. Masked Man, hell, even Liston’s done more impressive feats of athleticism.”

 

Dustin remains on top of Liston, and Nick Soapdish counts the pin as the Target Center counts along!

 

ONE!!!!!!!!!

 

 

TWOOOOOOO!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

*DING*

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon announces, “Jimmy Liston has been ELIMINATED!”

 

The crowd roars, Ryan Dustin exults, Tryst claps, Comet cheers, Riley complains, Masked Man rests up, and Liston does a whole lotta nothing.

 

Dustin slowly climbs to his feet, fresh off of eliminating his second opponent. He spies Masked Man resting (sitting) in the corner, and hesitantly advances towards him. Ryan reaches the corner and, just as he expected, TMM was only playing possum, as he pulls himself up and fires off a right hand. However, the Real Deal blocks the shot and sends a kick right into Masked Man’s gut! This doubles the criminal over, allowing Dustin to fire off a strong European uppercut to the masked chin! Another! Another! A fourth! As Dustin steps back and sizes up Masked Fury with the ‘picture frame’ gesture, Nick Soapdish tries to escort Liston out of the ring…but the Demon will have none of it! Furious over his loss, Jimmy walks right behind Ryan Dustin!

 

“WATCH OUT, CITIZEN DUSTIN! BEHIND YOU!” Comet cries.

 

“Comet, he can’t hear you,” Riley chuckles, “In fact, I bet you $25 he can’t.”

 

Liston rears back and prepares to swing with his hardest cheap shot…

 

*BAM!*

 

…but Dustin turns around and slams a backhand fist right into Liston’s face! As the Demon stumbles back, Ryan grabs him by the head and runs towards the ropes, tossing Jimmy right over the top rope and sending him tumbling to the floor!

 

“Well,” Comet begins, grinning, “I think Citizen Dustin and his Miracle Ear™ just won me $25!”

 

“That…um, we never shook on it, Comet,” Riley tries to find a way out of the situation.

 

However, as Dustin is distracted, Masked Man is able to recover, and he charges out of the corner, swinging his fist around and nailing his opponent with a 100% Pure Death™ running punch! The force pushes Dustin back, allowing the Sexual Maskosaurus to double him over and underhook his arms, before lifting up and flipping his opponent, dropping him back-first across his knee!

 

“RIDE THE MASK!” our Sexual Maskosaurus cries, to the displeasure of the fans in the Target Center.

 

“I’ll ride it!” Riley enthusiastically shouts, realizes what he’s said, and shuts up.

 

Nevertheless, Masked Man presses down on top of Dustin, his forearm indiscreetly placed across the side of his head, and Nick Soapdish counts the pin!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWOOO!!!!

 

 

 

SHOULDER UP!

 

Masked Man remains emotionless (well, not like we can really tell otherwise) and brings Dustin right back up to his feet. This time he takes Ryan by the wrist and whips him into the ropes that are, coincidentally, the same side that Jimmy Liston is on! The Real Deal hits the ropes, and before he can come back, Liston reaches out under the rope and grabs Ryan’s ankle, pulling him down and causing him to fall face-first on the mat! The fans vociferously jeer Liston’s antics, but Masked Man can only thank him as he grabs the fallen Dustin’s arm and twists around it, flipping over his body and rolling Dustin into a pinning predicament with the La Magistral cradle!

 

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

 

TWOOOO!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

AND A KICKOUT!!!

 

“That dastardly demon!” Comet cries, “he’s giving the Masked Man an unfair advantage by trying to take out the man that eliminated him!”

 

“Well,” Riley begins, “he should’ve seen it coming. I mean, really. If you eliminate a guy in a match like this, you’ve gotta expect something like that is going to happen.”

 

Tristan Witt, upstanding citizen and superhero, immediately walks over to Liston, and asks him just what the heck (for the kiddies at home) he’s doing! Liston responds by, well, slugging his right hand across Tryst’s face, which drops him down to the floor like a fly.

 

Meanwhile, in the ring, both competitors are back on their feet and ready for action. Masked Man charges at Ryan Dustin with his arm extended for a clothesline, but Dustin ducks and charges towards the ropes. He hits them and comes back, leaping into the air and tackling TMM down to the mat with a Lou Thesz press! He fires off piston right hands to the masked face of his opponent, before being pulled away by Nick Soapdish.

 

“DUH – STIN!”

 

“DUH – STIN!”

 

“Why are they chanting this guy’s name?” Riley asks, “he’s new, he’s not very exciting, and he reeks of aged scotch or whatever the hell he drinks.”

 

“He’s exciting!” Comet replies, “he’s not a criminal, he’s not a self-professed demon; he’s simply a show-stealing spitfire! We could see a big win here from Dustin!”

 

The Target Center is loud and happy for the Real Deal, and as he gives Masked Man a chance to get up, he acknowledges them. As the Sexual Maskosaurus reaches his feet, Dustin fires off a shotei right to his jaw! And one to the chest! With TMM caught slightly off guard, Ryan runs to the ropes and as he approaches Mask again, he jumps and twists his body, capturing TMM in a crucifix position before bringing him down into a pinning combination!

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

TWOOO!!!

 

 

 

SHOULDERS UP!!!

 

Masked Man rolls through off of his shoulders, and the steam is almost visible coming off of his mask. He is FUMING, as seen by his reckless charging at Dustin! The fan favorite sidesteps the charge, which sends TMM into the ropes, and the Real Deal shoots his leg out with a big super kick on TMM’s return…but Masked Fury drops down with a baseball slide under Dustin’s legs, and as he goes under them, he reaches up and pulls Dustin over, right into a schoolboy pin!

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

 

Masked Man and Dustin both rise up, but TMM is able to maneuver behind his opponent and trap his arms behind him in a double chickenwing, before twisting around so Dustin’s head is positioned towards the mat…but no! Ryan avoids the Masked Avenger finisher attempt by shoving Masked Man away, right into a turnbuckle! TMM brushes this off, however, and turns around, only to see Dustin on the apron, as he leaps onto the top rope and springboards off, locking his legs around his neck! Dustin arches back for a big hurracanrana…wait, Masked Fury holds onto him and brings him back up, before SLAMMING him down with an ENORMOUS powerbomb!!

 

“Sweet sizzling sizzler!” Comet shouts, “Masked Man just FOLDED Ryan Dustin in HALF with that powerbomb!”

 

“Ryan Dustin is FINISHED!” Riley exults, “and good riddance! I think Liston’s dying to see Masked Man, just so he can leave ringside and stop avoiding Tryst.”

 

Masked Man presses Dustin’s legs down against his shoulders, holding him in a tight pin as Nick Soapdish counts!

 

 

OOOONE!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEGOTHIM!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

…NO!

 

 

NO!

 

NO(TORIOUS)! RYAN DUSTIN SOMEHOW, SOME WAY, GETS THE SHOULDER UP!

 

Masked Man’s eyes are so wide, they almost rip the fabric of his mask!

 

“This is unbelievable!” Comet cheers, “Ryan Dustin is STILL in this match!”

 

Masked Man is crazy, and he rises up and grabs Dustin by the head, forcefully bringing him up to his feet! Without a moment of hesitation, he traps Ryan in a tight front facelock and hoists him upside down, preparing to end the match with a Cautionary Tale of Sexual Maskosaurus!

 

 

 

 

…but Dustin fights out! With a last spurt of energy, Ryan slips down and lands on his feet behind the Masked Man! Fluidly, he grabs onto TMM’s head, standing back to back with him, ready to hit the Real Deal neckbreaker, for RIZZLE this time! He falls…no! Masked Fury pushes his weight forward, and he’s able to stay standing as Dustin drops down to the mat! Dustin gets right back up, but Masked Man turns him around and again locks his arms in a double chickenwing, twisting around, and sitting out, SPIKING Dustin’s head to the mat with his version of the Unprettier, called the Masked Avenger!

 

“THAT’LL PUT MARZIPAN IN YOUR PIE PLATE, BINGO!” Comet shouts, “…but I don’t like it!”

 

Masked Man turns Dustin over and covers him, and Nick Soapdish drops down to count!

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

*DING DING DING*

 

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon bellows, “Ryan Dustin has been eliminated! The winner of this contest, by pinfall, the MAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSKED MAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!!!!”

 

“Misirlou” rocks the house speakers, and the fans erupt in boos! Masked Man, victorious, slides out of the ring, grabs his briefcase, and hightails it out of the arena! Tryst slaps Liston on the wrist and slides in the ring to check on Dustin.

 

“Ryan Dustin came SO close!” Comet commends, “Liston was a factor, of course-“

 

“Just accept it, Comet,” Riley shoots back, “Masked Man won because he was the better wrestler. Just like Tom Flesher is going to prove himself to be the better wrestler up next against Dace Night.”

 

Commercials rock!

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

“Before we get to the next match,” says Cyclone Comet, “let’s go over the rules. There are three ways to win under the UWFi point system.”

 

As Comet begins his explanation, the SmarkTron turns white, and his explanation is bulleted in black text.

 

“First of all, the two simplest ways to win: Either knocking your opponent out or making him submit will win you the match outright.”

 

- Submission Win

- KO Win

 

“Makes sense,” says Bobby Riley. “Plus, it gives Flesher the advantage, being a skilled submission artist and all.”

 

“Third, accumulating a total of 15 technical points will give a wrestler the win,” Comet continues. “Points are awarded for a variety of techniques, some of which we’ve illustrated with video clips. First of all, a leg takedown from the front is worth two points.”

 

- Takedown (Leg, Front) 2

 

Duran pulls back and throws another punch, this time aiming for Flesher’s head. The Superior One sees it coming, though, and quickly drops to his knees. As Duran whiffs the blow, Flesher picks his ankle and executes a low single-leg takedown.

 

“A similar takedown from behind nets only one point due to the lower risk.”

 

- Takedown (Leg, Rear) 1

 

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.

 

“A tackling takedown from the front will be awarded two points.”

 

- Takedown (Tackle, Front) 2

 

Silent turns to see MacPhisto rising to his feet – he catapults himself into a shoulder tackle from a kneeling position, catching Edwin in the stomach and driving him back into the turnbuckles! MacPhisto doubles over, the wind knocked out of him, as Silent stands up…

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

…and kicks the taste out of the former champion’s mouth! Ordonez tries to force his way in between the two to check on MacPhisto’s condition. The camera switches to a frontal shot of Edwin’s face…

 

CAAAAAAA-FUCKING-RRRRRRRRACK!

 

…just as Kibagami unloads with a vicious snap kick to the Mac Daddy’s jaw! The crowd winces sympathetically as MacPhisto collapses on the bottom rope, his eyes slightly glazed from the sheer impact of the kick.

 

“The same move from the rear, however…”

 

Riley snickers.

 

“… is worth only one point,” says Comet indignantly.

 

- Takedown (Tackle, Rear) 1

 

“Any takedown originating from a side headlock is worth one point.”

 

- Takedown (Headlock) 1

 

Sure enough, when the camera zooms in, it shows Flesher cranking Williams’ neck so hard that ‘Deathwish’ is turning a bright shade of red. Despite the obvious discomfort, Williams makes every effort to step around and get a better grip on Flesher’s waist to throw him over in a backdrop suplex. Flesher, however, keeps the headlock tight and rolls to the side, slamming Williams to the mat with a side headlock takeover!

 

“Takedowns originating from the front headlock are worth two, however.”

 

- Takedown (Facelock) 2

 

Ann’s face twists into a scowl, but before she can react, Flesher slams a knee into her stomach and she doubles over. He quickly snags her by the head and pulls her into a front headlock! Onita drives into him, trying to push him to the ropes, but he quickly sprawls to the mat and takes her down with him. In bad position, she tries to fight her way out, but Flesher interrupts her with a knee strike to the head! This draws cheers from the bloodthirsty Philly crowd.

 

“Listen to that!” says Riley. “They’re watching Flesher and Onita beat the crap out of each other and loving every second! I don’t think they’d even cheer this loud if Mak Francis ran in!”

 

“Each wrestler does appeal to a certain element of the crowd,” agrees Comet, “and so you’re bound to hear cheers no matter who hammers who.”

 

Flesher whacks Onita with a second knee strike, then follows up with a third. She stops struggling for a moment, and Flesher quickly threads one arm under hers. He pivots to the side, rolling her to her back with the Cement Job!

 

”A simple powering-down of the opponent as we might see from Janus or Aecas is worth two points.”

 

- Takedown (Power down) 2

 

“An arm takedown applied from the front nets the attacker one point.”

 

- Takedown (Arm, Front) 1

 

Seeking to regain the advantage Rickmen charges at the rising Toxxic. The Brit dodges to one side however, snares the Luchador’s arm and brings him crashing to the mat in a Fujiwara armbar! Pleased with his skill Toxxic leans back into the hold, the lopsided grin returning to his face. Unfortunately for the challenger the face of Andrew Rickmen registers discomfort but no more, and Sexton Hardcastle’s queries are met with a snort of derision from the Pennsylvania native. Angrily, Toxxic wrenches further back on the move, but apart from a slight grimace crossing his opponent’s face it has no discernible effect.

 

“The same takedown from behind is worth two.”

 

- Takedown (Arm, Rear) 2

 

“A flying tackle takedown inherently involves more risk than a grounded one, and thus is worth three points.”

 

- Takedown (Flying Tackle/Grab) 3

 

Sacred pulls himself up by the ropes and rests with his head down. Frost shakes his head as he stands to clear the cobwebs. He turns toward Blackwell, but the former champ was playing opossum and just waiting for the right opportunity. He explodes across the ring in a blur! He flies off his feet and leads with his shoulder into Frost’s ribs. The crowd pops as the duo hit the turf in a mangled pile!

 

Stevens: “Sacred hits the Kamikaze Super Spear out of nowhere!”

 

Riley: “That’s what’s so effective about the move! The cover!”

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE-

 

Stevens: “Kick out! It caught Frost off guard, but not enough.”

 

“A facelock suplex from the front is worth three points.”

 

- Suplex (Facelock, Front) 3

 

Clark doubles over in pain, and Flesher grabs him around the waist! The fans go wild, anticipating the Ego Buster! As Flesher starts his lift, though, Clark scrambles and backs out, leaving Flesher with only a front headlock for his trouble. Of course, that’s not exactly bad for Flesher, who immediately jacks Clark up off the mat by his neck and leaves him hanging there for a few seconds. Anthony Michael Hall steps in to warn Flesher about the illegal choke, and Flesher responds by arching his back and flipping Clark over his head! He then floats over, executing a picture-perfect Cement Mixer!

 

“A similar suplex executed from behind is worth the same.”

 

- Suplex (Facelock, Rear) 3

 

With that, Wilson throws down the microphone and heaves the battered world champion to the Boston Strangler, who quickly hooks a facelock and grabs Edwin’s waist.

 

“No! No! Strangler, don’t do this! Wilson, call them off!” Stevens pleads, but to no avail. The Boston Strangler, fresh blood on his hands, lets out a roar, then lifts Edwin high…high…holding him…and brings him down over the steel with a reverse DDT Drop!

 

“Last Breath! Last Breath!” squeals Riley. “It’s over! The champion is down! He held onto his belt tonight, but looks who’s still standing! It’s TNT! It’s Frost! It’s Danny Williams! It’s Stryke! It’s Outcast! It’s the Boston Strangler…and it’s Chris Wilson.”

 

“A front waistlock suplex will net its performer three points. This would include things like a belly-to-belly suplex, with equal rewards for the side and Railgun versions.”

 

- Suplex (Waistlock, Front) 3

 

Ann sits up and starts to get to her feet as Flesher turns around to strut back to the center. She steps in, catching him off-guard with a quick kick to the ribs. He lurches backwards as Ann angles in, throwing a quick right hand that he deflects by popping an arm up to block it! He throws the hand upward and ducks down, high-diving into a trapped-arm bear hug. He steps around and tosses Annie to the side with a Greco-Roman lateral drop! He unlocks his hands as she hits the mat and rolls to the side, while he gets up to his feet at a leisurely pace.

 

“The more popular rear waistlock suplex is more risky and thus is rewarded with four points… though that risk isn’t shown in this clip, where Aecas throws Todd Cortez like a ragdoll.”

 

- Suplex (Waistlock, Rear) 4

 

Cortez falls to the mat facefirst, stunning himself, and as he gets up, he backs into Aecas, who quickly grabs a waistlock and throws Cortez up and over with a release German Suplex that folds him over, drawing a huge pop!

 

"I wonder if Cortez qualifies for the Mile High Club now, seeing as how Aecas just tossed him!" ponders Riley

 

”A hooking, or ‘capture’ suplex, is worth three points if executed from the front, with an additional point if executed from the rear.”

 

- Suplex (Hooking, Front) 3

 

A collective “OOOO!” goes up from the crowd; the strike is roughly equivalent to a slap in the face, a challenge to do better, and the champion responds the best way he knows how –

 

CRACK!

 

– with a sharp kick to Kibagami’s thigh!

 

BAM!

 

“These two are getting into it now, Bobby!”

 

CRACK!

 

“Danny has to be careful not to let his emotions get the best of him –“

 

BAM!

 

“While he’s in there with one of the most manipulative men to ever grace the SWF...”

 

Danny fires off another cowboy kick, intent on beating some respect into the challenger, but Kibagami catches the blow and pulls the champion in towards him, trapping Danny’s leg against his chest, before sending Deathwish flying into the middle of the ring! with a tremendous capture suplex!

 

”And that’s why! The Silent One suckered Danny right into that one!”

 

- Suplex (Hooking, Rear) 4

 

Referee Hardcastle’s view was blocked by Stryke’s body, and the crafty Ejiro takes full advantage, easily avoiding a blind Stryke haymaker as he slips behind, Ejiro hooking Strkye for a Backdrop Suplex, but folding him up more and links his hands in a cradle. From there Fasaki pops his hips, whipping Stryke back and CRUNCHING his head into the canvas with a Reverse Fisherman’s Suplex, Ejiro holding on for the brutal pinning combination!!

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEE… NNNNOOOOOO!!! Stryke is BARELY able to roll his body out of the pin, Ejiro less than happy about the match continuing!

 

“And countering a suplex by floating over and coming out on top not only negates the points for the suplex but nets the countering athlete a whopping four points!”

 

- Suplex (Floatover Counter) 4

 

Fighting to kick his feet in the air, the Superior One rocks back and forth in the air, every so slightly shifting his balance…just enough to twist around and land on his feet before Dace can do anything about it. Clamping on a Rear Waistlock, Flesher regains his balance, only to have it broke as Dace swings himself around with a Standing Switch. Grabbing one of Tom’s legs, Dace hauls him back up from the mat with a Backdrop Suplex. Kicking and twisting his weight in mid air again, Tom rolls over and drops himself into Dace’s chest in a lateral pin…

 

Bbbbbbbooooooooooooooooo!

 

……ONE!

 

 

……TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

……TWO AND A QUARTER!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

……TWO AND A HALF!

 

KICKOUT!

 

Rrrrrrrraaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!

 

LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO!

 

Riley: That’s it Tom! Show this sod you can out do him every single time he tries a move on you! He’s done for.

 

Comet: Another impress counter from Citizen Flesher, first the Brainbuster and then the Backdrop Suplex. But he doesn’t have this one won yet Robert, Dace is still kicking.

 

“Any move starting with the opponent flat on the canvas will be awarded a bonus point for the lift, so long as the move is performed in a fluid motion and the opponent doesn’t reset on the mat.”

 

- Lift + (Any one motion lift) +1

 

Rising up to his hands and knees, Tom tries to roll himself over into a cover, but Night has a death grip of a Rear Waistlock on and he’s not letting go for anything. Growling at the strain, his mind foggy, Horrorcore leans backwards, digging his heels into the mat, slowly climbing up to his feet. Fighting with everything he’s got, Tom tries to keep himself belly down on the mat but Dace lifts his arms up, locking them around Flesher’s neck, trapping one arm as he goes. Snapping his body backwards, Dace takes Flesher over head and drills him head first into the mat with massive force.

 

CRUNCH!

 

Comet: GOOD F’N’ NIGHT! The same move he used to beat Danny Williams in their match up!

 

Riley: Doesn’t mean it’s going to be Tom Flesher!

 

Ooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Crumbling up like an accordion, Flesher balances on his neck for a moment before collapsing to the mat like a dead man. Barely able to roll over, Dace flops one arm across Flesher’s chest for a cover…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TTTTHHHHHHHHRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, here is you winner… DACE NIIIIGGGGHHHHTTTTT!

 

“In that case, Dace Night executed a four-point rear hooking suplex, and with the bonus point would have been awarded five for executing it off the mat. And finally, any scoring move performed avalanche-style – that is, off the top rope – is worth five points,” Comet says. “Most notably, this would include Tom Flesher’s Boilermaker.”

 

- Avalanche (Suplex/Takedown) 5

 

Flesher climbs up the turnbuckles, with the crowd cheering louder with each step up. By the time he reaches the top rope, the crowd is going absolutely crazy, and Flesher stops to acknowledge them. They continue cheering as Flesher locks on a front facelock and starts to pull Taylor into the air! Taylor, though, hooks his legs under the top rope! Flesher continues fighting for the brainbuster, but Taylor fights back and locks on a front facelock of his own! He stands up, and without the benefit of hooking the ropes and sitting comfortably on the top rope, Flesher has no way to keep Taylor from lifting him and throwing him forward in an avalanche-style front suplex! Flesher hits the mat face-first and lands holding his stomach. The fans boo as Taylor stands on the top rope, raising his arms.

 

 

“Now,” says Comet, “let’s go to the ring.” As he does, the camera focuses in once more on the points list.

 

Submission Win

KO Win

 

Move Points

Takedown (Leg, Front) 2

Takedown (Leg, Rear) 1

Takedown (Tackle, Front) 2

Takedown (Tackle, Rear) 1

Takedown (Headlock) 1

Takedown (Facelock) 2

Takedown (Power down) 2

Takedown (Arm, Front) 1

Takedown (Arm, Rear) 2

Takedown (Flying Tackle/Grab) 3

Suplex (Facelock, Front) 3

Suplex (Facelock, Rear) 3

Suplex (Waistlock, Front) 3

Suplex (Waistlock, Rear) 4

Suplex (Hooking, Front) 3

Suplex (Hooking, Rear) 4

Suplex (Floatover Counter) 4

Avalanche (Suplex/Takedown) 5

Lift + (Any one motion lift) +1

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

As the movie clips displaying the scoring system for the UWF-I style match fade away, the Smarktron flicks back the images of the sold out Minneapolis crowd in the Target Center. Signs like “WELCOME BACK MUNICH!” and “TOXXIC ISN’T HARDCORE!” can be seen dotted around the crowd, along with the latest t shirt crazy of “Tom FUCKING Allison” with a very interesting Superior One and Onita logo on the back. Up in the bleachers, a bookie can be seen taking odds on the final score in the match like it’s a horse race.

 

Comet: Welcome back loyal Citizens. As you’ve just seen, we now know what the scoring for this UWF-I style match will shape up to be. This is the fourth match in the best of five series for the number one contendership!

 

Riley: A series that Commissioner Zenon made because he refused to except that Tom Flesher was worthy of a World Title shot!

 

Comet: It’s also a series where Citizen Flesher needs to win this match up if he wants to still have a chance at the title. If Citizen Night wins tonight, he’ll have won the series.

 

Riley: And how is Dace going to win without the chance to cheat shot Tom backstage and hit him with light tubes? He isn’t Comet. We can all just sit back and watch the technical master at work in this one.

 

Comet: Well, we’ve already seen plenty of technical work, along with a new contender to the ICTV title, the return of Citizen Munich and we’ve still got a huge tag team match for the main event.

 

Riley: Yes but none of them had Tom Flesher in so they don’t really count now do they?

 

Climbing into the ring, followed by Referee Nick Soapdish, Funyon makes his way to the middle of the ring with his custom mic in hand. Looking out onto the crowd, he starts his announcement.

 

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is the forth match in the best of five series for the number one contendership to the SWF World Heavyweight Championship! It will be held under UWF-I rules, with the first person to score fifteen points or a knock out or submission will be the winner!

 

Yyyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Funyon: Introducing firstly, from Birmingham England, he weighs in at two hundred and fifty two pounds, he currently leads the series two to one, this is … DACE

 

FUCKING!

 

Funyon: NNNNNIIIIIGGGGGHHHHHTTTTTT!

 

The entrance ramp is lit up with rounds of pyro exploding all the way up to the stage are Hero rips out over the PA system. Racing out of the entrance way and launching the horns up into the air, Dace looks around at the crowd. Sprinting down the ramp, Horrorcore tags hands with a few of the fans before circling around the ring and diving under the bottom rope. Springing to his feet, Dace paces around the ring and climbing the turnbuckles, throwing his arms up to the fans. Pulling off his Zyklon t shirt, Dace throws it out in the crowd as he raises up the horns once again.

 

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

 

Funyon: And his opponent, hailing from Buffalo New York, he weighs in two hundred and thirty one pounds, accompanied to the ring by Allison Onita, this is … THE SUPERIOR ONE … TOM FFFFLLLLLEEESSSSSSSHHHHHHHEEERRRRRRRRRR!

 

The familiar showers of blue pyro light up the arena as Kashmir kicks into the life, the beat pounding out over the arena. Standing at the top of the ramp as the smoke clears, golf clapping himself on is Tom Flesher. Strolling down the ramp towards the ring, Tom ignores the crowds as Allison follows behind him. Standing infront of the ring, Flesher strips off his blue warm up suit and hands it over to Allison before giving her a kiss and rolling into the ring.

 

Bbbbbbbbbbbbbooooooooooooooooo!

 

Riley: People just have no respect at all do they? Tom Flesher was god damn mugged and assaulted on the last show by Dace Night and these people don’t even care! What sort of country are we in Comet?

 

Comet: America Robert, where such things are all completely legal, except in New Jersey but they have those crazy no Hardcore laws out there. I think Citizen Flesher will see the Hardcore match as more of humiliation that anything else.

 

Riley: And you can bet he’ll be out to teach Dace Night another lesson in the ring. I bet ‘ll make him tap out in thirty seconds or win fifteen to nothing!

 

Funyon climbs out of the ring as Funyon briefly checks over both men and throws up his hands. On the Smarktron screen, a scoreboard lights up under the image, showing both men’s names and their current scores. DACE: 0 – FLESHER: 0 is seen as they two stand across from each other in the ring. Waving his arm, Soapdish calls for the opening bell.

 

DING, DING, DING!

 

Rrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Comet: We’re about to see if you’re right Robert. Citizen Flesher has the still for the takedowns and suplexes but Citizen Night has the power just to blitz with suplexes and look for a KO victory.

 

Cracking his neck from side to side, Dace glares across the ring and the Superior One and edges towards him. Flesher simply waves him on as Allison Onita beats on the apron and yells encouragement to her man. Slowly circling towards each other, getting closer and closer with each movement, both men look to start things slowly. Suddenly Flesher darts forwards, leading as if for a Double Leg Takedown. Throwing his arms down, Dace tries to block the move, only to have to franticly dodge backwards as Flesher comes up with a hail of Palm Strikes, trying to catch Horrorcore by surprise. Twisting to his side, Dace lets Flesher fly past him with the flurry, still twisting on his heel, Dace makes a full turn and launches out a skull splitting Rolling Elbow.

 

BAM! Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbboooooooooooooooooo!

 

Before he can blink, Dace finds himself down on the mat as the Superior One marks a surprise twist and launches him low with a Double Leg Takedown. Throwing his hand into the air, Soapdish holds up two fingers, signalling the scoring of two points.

 

DACE: 0 – FLESHER: 2

 

Riley: YES! That’s it Tom, surprise that brawling oaf and just take him down. Dace hasn’t got a prayer here Comet.

 

Comet: I’ll have to admit that Citizen Flesher just got himself off to an early start, completely surprising Dace with that Takedown, and it looks like he’s not done there either!

 

Keeping his limbs wrapped around Night’s legs, Tom scrambles forwards onto his chest and unleashes a flurry of Shoteis into Dace’s head and face, just pummelling him with blows. Moving in, Soapdish checks on both men as Night’s head is rocked from side to side with each blow. Desperately gritting his teeth against the blows, Dace throws his arms up, shoving Flesher away as he pops his hips up from the mat. As Tom is thrown clear, Dace bails out across the ring into the safety of the ropes. Using them to climb back to his feet, Night shakes his head out as Flesher just stands in the middle of the ring, golf clapping himself, with Allison joining in from ringside.

 

Bbbbbbbbbbbbbboooooooooooooooooooooo!

 

Advancing forwards, Dace moves back in, as Flesher simply rises his arms and offers his hands up for a Knuckle Lock. Edging forwards, Dace slowly reaches up and grips his hands into the Knuckle Lock, keeping his body angled to try and block and suddenly sweeps or takedowns from the Superior One. Flesher forces all weight forwards, trying to take Horrorcore of balance and make an opening to launch another attack. Digging his heels into the mat, Dace pushes back, over powering Flesher and slowly forcing backwards, sending him closer and closer, down towards the mat.

 

Comet: The Superior One going into a test of strength with Dace Night? What on earth is he doing?

 

Seeing Flesher’s balance shaking, night suddenly breaks his grip and dives forwards with a full tackle, but Tom catches him, re-setting his centre of gravity and wrapping his arms around Night’s waist, locking to haul him up into the air.

 

Riley: EGOBUSTER THAT’S WHAT! Dace just suckered himself straight into the Egobuster!

 

Realising his mistake as he feels his feet start to level the ground, Dace counters like a wild animal. Ignoring skill, he simply hammers his elbow over and over into the Superior One’s knee, looking to collapse it before he gets dropped on his head. Grunting in pain from the blows to his, Flesher sets Horrorcore back onto his feet and tries to shake him off before his knee gives out. Feeling Flesher’s grip slacken, Dace wraps both of his arms around Tom’s leg and tries to yank it backwards, to pick it out from under the Superior One.

 

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

 

Drilling a wave of Palm Strikes into the back of Horrorcore’s skull, Flesher forces him to give up his grasp and back off. Pouncing forwards to create an advantage, Flesher fires off another Shotei, but this time Dace is waiting for it. Grapping Tom’s arm by the wrist, Night drags him forwards and slips behind him. Before Tom can even block, Dace clamps on a Rear Waistlock and arches backwards, dead lifting two hundred and thirty pounds of Superior One off his feet, over head and straight down to the mat with a brutal looking German Suplex, without any of the usual smooth form.

 

WHAM!

 

Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Comet: GERMAN SUPLEX! DACE TAKES THE LEAD!

 

Holding his arm in the air, Soapdish shows four fingers for the German Suplex as Dace rolls away, wiping his face and almost smiling. At ringside, Allison covers her mouth as the Superior One slowly rolls of his shoulders and neck into the haven of the ropes.

 

DACE: 4 – FLESHER: 2

 

Riley: That was nothing but luck! He needs to do that three more times if he wants to win this match and no way is Tom frecking Flesher going to fall for that one again Comet!

 

Comet: Well it was a huge risk, with all the counters to a German Suplex that would score points for Citizen Flesher, but this time it paid off. Interestingly, if Flesher had connected with the Egobuster, it would only have been worth three points. Maybe not the best move.

 

Standing up, Dace shakes his head again, clearing out the ringing for Palm Strikes as Flesher forces himself up against the ropes, sucking in air. Holding the back of his head, Flesher can feel throbbing, the German Suplex causing the light tube wound to ache. Letting out a roar, Dace rushes forwards, pressing his advantage as he cracks the point of his elbow into the back of Tom’s head with an Enzui-Running Elbow. As the Superior One’s body sags against the ropes, Night locks on another Rear Waistlock and drags him backwards, looking for another German Suplex. Surging forwards, Flesher tries to drag Dace along with him as he makes a desperate dive for the ropes. Already feeling his feet leaving the mat, Tom leans forwards as far as he can, letting out a grunt as his fingers close around the top rope.

 

Ooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Releasing his grasp as Soapdish’s order for a break, Horrorcore steps backwards as Tom Flesher still holds onto the ropes, checking over his shoulder to make sure he’s safe. As soon as Dace backs off, Flesher shoves himself backwards off the ropes, spinning behind Dace. Sending his body forwards into the mat, the Superior One wraps his arms around Night’s leg and tackles it out from under him, sending Dace sprawling face first into the mat, right in front of the ropes. Throwing a hand up, showing one finger, Soapdish singles the score as Dace kicks his leg free and uses the ropes to haul himself back to his feet.

 

DACE: 4 – FLESHER: 3

 

FLESHER SUCK! FLESHER SUCKS! FLESHER SUCKS!

 

Comet: Citizen Night tries for the same German Suplex again, but Flesher has the smarts to escape and score a Single Leg Takedown from behind.

 

Riley: See, Dace only has a few tricks up his sleeve but Tom Flesher has hundreds. Like Dace is going to catch him with the same move twice!

 

Springing back to his feet, with Allison’s cheers trying out shout out the whole crowd, the Superior One kicks back into action. Racing forwards like a charging bull, Flesher catches the rising Night in the face with a face busting Yakuza Kick that knocks him back against the ropes. Clamping a Front Facelock on the dazed Horrorcore, Flesher drags him backwards, away from the ropes. In the middle of the ring, Tom arches his back, bridging over and dragging Dace overhead in the Front Facelock with the Cement Mixer. As Dace’s body hits the mat, Soapdish throws his arm up again, showing three fingers for the score.

 

THUD!

 

DACE: 4 – FLESHER 6

 

Bbbbbbbbboooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

 

Twisting over on the mat, Flesher keeps the Facelock clamped on tight as he rises back to his feet. Dragging Night up by the Facelock, the Superior One drives a knee into Night’s mid section before punching his arm through, hooking it under Night’s arm and sending him spinning over into the mat with a Cement Job. And again Soapdish throws up his hand, this time showing two fingers.

 

DACE: 4 – FLESHER: 8

 

FLESHER SUCKS! FLESHER SUCKS! FLESHER SUCKS! FLESHER SUCKS!

 

Comet: Citizen Flesher scores six points in a matter of moments to regain the lead in this match! Citizen Night has to act fast if he wants to say in this and win!

 

Riley: Flesher’s already half way to victor, and let’s not forget he could just tie Dace up in the Superior Stretch Beta and make him tap out. If he wanted to, but I think he really wants to beat him!

 

Rolling through on the mat, Flesher comes up over Horrorcore’s back, shifting his weight into a back mount. Allison bursts into a huge screaming cheer as Flesher tries to wrap his arm around Dace’s neck to lock on the Superior Stretch Beta. Crossing his arms over the back of his head and around his neck, Dace blocks Tom’s hands and brings his knees up under his body. Trying to hold on like a cowboy on a bucking bronco, Flesher rains in Shoteis to Dace’s arms and the back of his head, trying to get a clear path to locking on the Superior Stretch Beta. Kicking off the mat, Night throws his weight backwards, tipping Flesher off and dumping him into the mat. Getting back to his feet, Dace holds the back of his neck, shaking it for a moment as an angry looking Tom flesher climbs back to his feet.

 

Ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO!

 

Charging forwards, the Superior One fires off another round of face smashing Shoteis, ramming into Dace like a freight train, trying to catch him as he recovers. Throwing his arms up infront of his face, Horrorcore franticly tries to block the blows, feeling each and every single one thudding into his forearms. Almost being forced backwards by the blows, Dace lashes out with his leg, driving his knee into Tom’s mid section, stopping the wave of Palm Strikes and doubling him over. Grabbing hold of Flesher, Dace drives his knee into Flesher’s mid section over and over, causing Flesher to grunt in pain with each blow. Wrapping both of his arms around the Superior One’s throat, Horrorcore clamps them tight, cutting off the oxygen to his lungs and brain with a Front Facelock Choke.

 

Yyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE!

 

Comet: Well Robert, Flesher just tired for the Superior Stretch Beta but be couldn’t get it locked on. And now Citizen Night has the Facelock Choke clamp on and it doesn’t look like Flesher has anywhere to go!

 

Riley: Oh what, now choke holds count in this match? That’s just unfair Comet! Come on Tom, take him down like before with that Double Leg! Dace is leaving himself exposed!

 

Sagging down to his knees, trying to take the pressure off his neck, Tom locks his arms around Night’s legs trying to power forwards and tackle him down. Setting his legs apart, Dace kneels down and sandbags his weight, stopping Tom from moving him even an inch. Outside of the ring, Allison can only look on as Dace reaches down and wraps his arms around Flesher’s mid section. Flesher tries to surge forwards as the Facelock is released, but a knee to the chest stops him head. Wrenching Tom up from the mat, Horrorcore takes him through the air and slams him into the mat with a thud from the Gutwrench Suplex. Soapdish waves three fingers in the air as the scoreboard flashes and updates again.

 

THUD!

 

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

 

DACE: 7 – FLESHER: 8

 

Hauling Flesher back to his feet, Dace instantly clamps on another Facelock Choke, trying to keep the pressure on before Flesher can recover his breath. Dragging Tom backwards by his neck, Horrorcore tries to choke him in the middle of the ring and end the match right there. Falling back on the only weapon he can use in this situation, the Superior One starts to drill Palm Strikes into Dace Night’s knee, trying to buckle it out just like Dace did with Elbows earlier on.

 

Comet: Another Facelock Choke! Citizen Night has this match and the series won!

 

Riley: No he doesn’t! Look, Tom Flesher is fighting for everything and he’s going to win! He’s taking out Dace’s leg!

 

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

 

With a cry of pain, Night lets go of the choke and tries to tear Flesher off his leg. But even as he does, Tom pushes his heels off the mat and throws all his weight forwards into Night’s leg. Toppling backwards to the mat, Dace sprawls out as he thuds down. Soapdish shots two fingers into the air for the score.

 

DACE: 7 – FLESHER: 10

 

Bbbbbbbbbbbboooooooooooooooooo!

 

Latching onto Dace by the air, Flesher leaps back to his feet and wrenches Dace up from the mat with him. Swinging his arm like a full baseball pitch, the Superior One cracks a Shotei of Dace’s jaw that snaps his head back. Now launching blows with both hands, Flesher franticly fights to hold onto his lead and keeps his hopes of winning the series alive. Backing Dace up into the ropes with the force of his blows, Tom fires him across the ring into the opposite set of ropes. Charging into the middle of the ring, Flesher waits as Dace comes flying back, spreading his arms Tom wraps them around Horrorcore’s waist and snaps backwards, sending him through the air and crashing into the mat with a Railgun Belly to Belly Suplex. Three fingers singling three points from Referee Soapdish as singles the score.

 

DACE:7 – FLESHER: 13

 

FLESHER SUCKS! FLESHER SUCKS! FLESHER SUCKS! FLESHER SUCKS!

 

Comet: Railgun Suplex from Citizen Flesher! Now he’s just two points away from winning the match and drawing level in the series!

 

Riley: It’s all over now, Dace just doesn’t have the skills to hang with Tom Flesher in a real match like this. All it’s going to take is one last move, one little Egobuster and this match is history.

 

Scrambling back to his feet Horrorcore tries to recover as the Superior One races towards him at full speed. Firing off another wave of Palm Strikes, trying just to blast Dace down one last time and stop him from even defending himself. Once again throwing his forearms up to block the blows, Dace grunts under the impact into his arms, bracing himself against behind knocked backwards. Roaring, Dace throws his arms open and takes a Palm Strike straight on the jaw, but just walks straight through it to answer with an Elbow Smash that almost takes Flesher’s head off.

 

CRACK! Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

 

Slamming through Flesher’s defences like a tidal wave, Dace sends him staggering back across the ring with elbow after elbow to his face and head. Seeing Flesher on spaghetti legs, Night twists on his feet and sends himself crashing forwards like a wrecking ball. His elbow connects a with bone splintering force and knocks Tom Flesher clean off his feet and crashing into the mat as Dace’s momentum carries him down onto the mat as well.

 

CCCRRRRRRAAACCCCCCCKKKKKKKK! THUD!

 

Waving his fists in the air, Soapdish yells that no points where scored as both men go down.

 

Comet: ROLLING ELBOW! Citizen Night might just have KOed Tom Flesher with that! He doesn’t even need to score again if that happens!

 

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

 

Pushing himself back up on his hands and knees, Dace looks over as Soapdish stoups down beside the body of the Superior One. Taking Tom’s almost limp wrist, Soapdish raises it up into the air and watches it flop to the mat. Lifting it up a second time, Soapdish watches it fall back to the mat a second time. Standing up fully now, cracking his neck, Dace looks on as Soapdish raises Tom’s arm a third and final time. Every single fan looks on as Soapdish steps backwards and watches as Flesher’s arms stays in the air, showing he’s not dead yet.

 

Ooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Comet: So close! But Citizen Flesher isn’t out cold yet and he’s still in this match!

 

Riley: And he’s still only two points away from winning this match! Don’t forget that!

 

Scrambling forwards as the Superior One struggles to his feet, Horrorcore clamps down a Front Facelock and grabs a handful of Flesher’s singlet. Dragging two hundred and thirty pounds all the way up into the air, Dace holds him upside down, letting every last bit of Tom’s blood drain down into his head. Finally kicking his legs up, Dace drops back to the mat and spikes Flesher onto his neck with a Sheer Drop Brainbuster. Raising three fingers up for the crowd to see, Soapdish singles another score as Dace rolls backwards and motions for Soapdish to check for a KO.

 

DACE: 10 – FLESHER: 13

 

Comet: Sheer Drop Brainbuster, just dumping the Superior One on his neck!

 

Riley: He’s gonna get up from that one. He is, just you wait and see, the big brawling Goth isn’t going to finish him off like that!

 

Motioning for Dace to stand well back, Soapdish moves in again and lifts up Flesher’s arm. Holding it straight up in the air, Soapdish checks it before stepping back and letting go of the arm. The whole crowd, Dace, Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley all lock as Flesher’s arm falls to the ground…

 

 

Once…………Soapdish raises it again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Twice………Again Soapdish lifts it back into the air.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thri-NO!

 

Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbboooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

 

At the last possible second, Tom Flesher’s arm tenses up and stay in the air, showing he’s still in the mat as he every so slowly starts to climb back to his feet, trying to shake his head out as he gets up.

 

Riley: What did I tell you! Dace can’t do it! He’s not doing to win on points, he not going to knock out Tom Flesher and he wont get a submission. He’s got no lucky pinfalls to save him this time.

 

Rolling over onto his Front, Flesher starts to push himself up to his feet, forcing himself to rise up and attack again. Not letting that happen, Night leaps forwards, onto Flesher’s back. Raining down Elbow Smashes into the back of Tom’s skull, Dace strikes him down into the mat, beating him down like a dog. Stepping backwards slightly, Horrorcore reaches down and locks his arms around Flesher’s waist, straining backwards to bring Flesher up for a Deadlift German Suplex.

 

Comet: Dace is trying to Deadlift Tom Flesher into a German Suplex. That’d score him five points and win the match! He could win the series right here! What an upset that’d be!

 

Riley: But it’s not going to happen! There’s no way this is going to happen! Flesher is not going to lose to some useless brawling ass Goth in a match like this Comet! Just wait!

 

Growling in effort, Dace strains back with all his strength and drags Flesher up from the mat like rag doll. Hauling back, further and further, the Superior One struggles but can’t sandbag himself against Dace Night’s power. Straining back even further, Dace hauls Flesher up to his feet and starts to pull him up into the air…

 

Ooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Desperately reaching back, Flesher hooks an arm around Night’s head as he is lifted up into the air. As he starts to fly into the air, Tom franticly kicks his legs and throws his weight back. Twisting his body over, Tom brings all two thirty pounds of his body weight crashing down through the air and into Dace Night’s chest, toppling him down into the mat. Leaping back, Soapdish throws up four fingers and franticly waves his arms, calling for the final bell.

 

WHAM!

 

Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbboooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

 

DACE: 10 – FLESHER: 17

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, here is your winner by point score … TOM FFFLLLLLLEEEEESSSSSSHHHHHHHEEEERRRRRRR!

 

FLESHER SUCKS! FLESHER SUCKS! FLESHER SUCKS! FLESHER SUCKS! FLESHER SUCKS!

 

Comet: Citizen Flesher floats over and lands on Night’s chest, taking him down and scoring four points to get the win! He series is tied at two all!

 

Riley: Yes, yes, yes! This is Tom frecking Flesher and he just kicked Dace Night’s ass from pillar to post. And he’s going to do it one more time as well Comet and he’s going to get that title shot he deserves!

 

Rolling across the ring to the ropes, Flesher ropes himself up for a moment as Allison Onita leaps onto the apron and golf claps on her lover. Leaning in, she plants a kiss on his lips as Horrorcore sits up in the middle of the ring, looking around and swearing loudly at Soapdish.

 

FUCK YOU FLESHER! CLAP CLAP CLAP! FUCK YOU FLESHER! CLAP CLAP CLAP!

 

Riley: Would you believe that? Even after a match like that these people still have no damn respect for the greatness of The Superior One Tom Flesher!

 

Comet: Well, I don’t think these people are ever going to like Citizen Flesher with the way he acts. I don’t think there’s any danger of Dace Night liking him as well.

 

Stumbling over to the standing Dace Night, Flesher looks him up and down. Flipping the bird to the Superior One, Dace tells him where to stuff it as the Superior One lashes out and drives a boot into his ball. As Dace doubles over in pain, Flesher locks his arms around Night’s waist and spikes him backwards, driving his head into the mat with an Egobuster!

 

BAM!

 

Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

 

Comet: And a disgusting low blow to an Egobuster! Tom Flesher can’t even win gracefully can he?

 

Riley: It was revenge for being mugged on the last show Comet!

 

The camera shows Dace Night laying out in the middle of the ring, as we…

 

Fade Out.

Edited June 3, 2004 by realitycheck

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

“Let’s talk a little bit about evolution…”

 

 

The long missing yet never forgotten voice of Mak Francis echoes from the silence around the arena, causing a loud burst of cheers from the sold-out crowd. The SmarkTron comes to life, and Francis can be seen surrounded by darkness. With little more than a smile, the Franchise takes a brief pause before continuing to speak.

 

“The IGNWF, ML, and JL are long gone, having evolved into what we now know as the SWF, but only 6 months ago the SJL was thriving, as wrestlers worked night in and night out for their shot at the big time. With the closing of the SJL in late January, some of the lucky superstars got their chance to come to the SWF … to evolve.”

 

Behind Mak, video clips randomly play, showcasing the final weeks of the SJL, including a few of the last recorded moments in the federation’s history, as JL European Champion Landon Maddix defeated the World Champion Alan Clark to become the final SJL Champion of all time.

 

“With these superstars came a championship. The Unified SJL Championship saw light in the SWF for a single match, where Sacred, then SWF United States Champion defeated the final SJL Champion Landon Maddix…and the belts evolved themselves, becoming what was known as the United States Junior League Championship.”

 

Only a few scenes from the Clusterfuck PPV match are shown, concluding with a shot of Sacred holding both championships in the air, celebrating his victory before fading out and back into darkness.

 

“But as the championship made it’s way back to the hands of one Landon Maddix, he saw fit to honor his past, and now…to some at least…there is a Triple Crown Champion that walks among us.”

 

The video behind Francis fades back in, showing Landon Maddix holding his Triple Crown of championships, a look of satisfaction planted on his face for the entire world to see.

 

“Like the title Landon Maddix holds, he too has evolved over time. When he first arrived in the SJL, Maddix quickly took off in the lower ranks, defeating nearly ever wrestler that crossed him, picking up championships and victories like only one Charlie Matthews had done before.”

 

More video, passing through the weeks between Landon Maddix’s debut and up until early December of last year.

 

“But just when the world was ready to bow at the feet of Landon Maddix, he turned them in the opposite direction.”

 

As Alan Clark celebrates a victory over Todd Royal, Landon Maddix attacks from behind and the two men proceed to nearly destroy Alan, leaving him in the ring with an injured knee.

 

“Landon Maddix stepped away from being the crowd’s darling, and instead became a Disciple in the House of Todd. Along with Todd, Landon would see renewed fervor in all of his endeavors, and soon both men would head to the SWF and look to show the world exactly who they were. Although the two came up short in the beginning, and even with Todd Royal succumbing to injury, Landon Maddix has gone above and beyond the expected, proving himself time and time again to get the job done. He is a true champion, like it or not, he is Triple Crown Landon Maddix.”

 

Landon appears on the screen once more, standing with Todd Royal and Megan Skye as they pose with each other, the crowd behind them no doubt screaming in displeasure and angst for the House of Todd.

 

“But it seems that wherever Landon Maddix has gone in his career in the past eight months, one man has been there right along with him.”

 

The man he speaks of, Alan Clark, appears on the screen as Francis continues to speak.

 

“Alan Clark, a man whose changes in attitude and even appearance are well documented in his almost one year career here in the SWF and SJL. Coming into the SJL as the odd and unstable Bloodshed, Alan quickly racked up victories and even captured the European Championship for a brief time.”

 

Bloodshed appears now, fighting his way through city streets, malls, and cages, bleeding all the while.

 

“After a small yet somewhat memorable time walking the aisle as The Apostle, the real Alan Clark began to shine through, as he came out with a fire in his eyes, picking up the SJL World Championship at SJL Season’s Grievings.”

 

The video of Bloodshed morphs to the Apostle and then to Clark, flying through the air in a timeless piece of film, diving off of a production truck and onto Todd Royal, en route to a world championship victory.

 

“But disaster would strike in the following weeks and into the SWF, as Alan would go on to lose his championship and nearly his dignity, as he was attacked by Thugg only a few days after coming into the federation.”

 

Alan Clark is shown being booted into a wall by Thugg, the self-proclaimed JL welcome wagon.

 

“But Alan would not let even the largest of obstacles keep him down, making it is own personal mission to do what he had to do to gain back a measure of respect. Some came to call him The Real Alan Clark, but he just called himself a winner.”

 

With Thugg prone on the roof of a beat-up car at From The Fire, Alan Clark makes another memorable dive, cannonballing off of his tour bus and driving his body into Thugg’s, nearly destroying themselves and the car in the process. As Alan is loaded into an ambulance with severe blood loss, he can be seen raising his hand in victory.

 

“But Alan Clark was not done by any means, as old wounds were reopened and Landon Maddix stepped forward, wanting to see if the Real Alan Clark was indeed what Clark claimed, or nothing but a false idol.”

 

Scenes are shown across the screen, complete with pieces of Alan’s monologues in the southwest, all leading into Battleground.

 

“At Battleground only a few short weeks ago, Alan Clark and Landon Maddix went into an empty arena…looking to destroy each other and prove the other was wrong. In the end, Alan Clark’s words resonated the loudest, as he left Landon Maddix unconscious in the ring.”

 

Clips from the Empty Arena are shown, concluding with Alan Clark lifting Landon Maddix into position for the OTD and driving him onto his head, knocking him out. As he leaves the ring, the words “Thank You, Landon Maddix…” appear across the top of the screen.

 

“Alan Clark came out of the match a thankful man…but what for? It would soon come to pass that it was not over between the two, and as Alan Clark evolved into the Wayward Son he is today, Landon Maddix spent his time issuing challenge after challenge, trying to bring Alan Clark out for one final contest.”

 

Mak Francis fades away from the screen now, as images of the past few weeks are shown. Landon defeats Alan’s tag partner, and soon after Alan is left alone. With no place to turn, Edward James appears, and Alan Clark almost becomes a tag team champion. Maddix continues to do the two things he is best at, complain and win, as Alan tries his best to keep his mind focused.

 

“Little did Landon Maddix know…his challenge would soon be answered…”

 

…

 

-----5 Days Ago-----

 

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 seems confused at first…but soon everything falls into place…

 

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…

 

As those four words leave Clark’s lips, the arena explodes and Landon explodes with rage in the ring. On the spot, and knowing that he was surrounded by a few thousand people that would laugh him out of the building if he declined…

 

”…Fine…I accept!”

 

As the image of Landon Maddix standing in the center of the ring fades away, Mak reappears.

 

“An Ironman Match. A match itself known for the evolution of it’s participants. They go into the ring as simple wrestlers with a point to prove…and win or lose they leave that ring as legends and heroes for surviving one of the most grueling matches ever created that does not rely on weapons, silly props, or explosions. No. It is a match based solely around athletic ability…and when Landon Maddix and Alan Clark stand toe-to-toe at 13th Hour their minds will be racing, their hearts will be pounding, and they will look into each other’s eyes and wonder what they have gotten each other into…but you know what they say…”

 

….

 

“…the show must go on…”

 

Francis fades away, the screen turns to darkness…and silence returns…but only for a moment…

 

CUE: “The Show Must Go On” – Queen

 

As the opening notes echo through the arena, the crowd’s attention goes back to the SmarkTron, as it fades to life just as the lyrics begin.

 

Empty spaces - what are we living for?

Abandoned places - I guess we know the score…

On and on!

 

Alan Clark and Landon Maddix appear on the screen, battling in the Empty Arena. The images quickly fade, however, leaving behind Alan standing alone, looking down at Landon in the ring, showing him that the score is tied 2 wins apiece.

 

Does anybody know what we are looking for?

 

Landon smiles up at Clark, holding the Triple Crown championship in his hands, knowing full well that it is all that matters.

 

Another hero - another mindless crime.

Behind the curtain, in the pantomime.

Hold the line!

Does anybody want to take it anymore?

 

Back in time a bit, as Alan Clark is shown being beaten by the House of Todd, Thugg, and a variety of others…before finally being shown sitting backstage holding his wounds and looking down at himself, knowing that…

 

The show must go on!

The show must go on!

 

Indeed it does, as images of victories between Maddix and Clark strobe across the screen, each trying to outdo the last as they cascade and fade into darkness…and then back to…

 

Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance.

Another heartache - another failed romance.

On and on!

 

A new series of images, as Alan stands in the ring in separate images, first with Coy West, and then his new partner Edward James…before the images change over to Landon Maddix, following Megan Skye and Todd Royal to the ring.

 

Does anybody know what we are living for?

I guess I'm learning.

I must be warmer now…

I'll soon be turning round the corner now.

 

Scenes begin to flash once more, as each lyric explodes throughout the arena, images of the four previous matches between the two men are shown, with each victor celebrating as in their minds it seems that it is all over…

 

Outside the dawn is breaking,

But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free!

 

The dawn truly is breaking, as images flash across the screen and continue to flash as the next lyrics begin, showcasing various moments of interaction between the two as the music grows to it’s final crescendo…

 

The show must go on!

The show must go on! Yeah!

The show must go on!

I'll face it with a grin!

I'm never giving in!

On with the show!

 

The images begin to fade…leaving simply the two men….

 

I'll top the bill!

I'll overkill!

 

…Landon Maddix…

 

I have to find the will to carry on!

On with the,

On with the show!

 

…Alan Clark…

 

The show must go on.

 

 

SIXTY MINUTE IRON MAN

 

 

SWF 13TH HOUR

 

 

JUNE 13TH, 2004[/b]

 

 

 

…The show must go on.

Edited June 3, 2004 by 5_moves_of_doom

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

As Lockdown returns from its final commercial break, the sold-out crowd is on their feet in anticipation of the main event! Even in the announce booth there seems to be that feeling that something big is about to go down.

 

Comet: Welcome back, true believers! Up next we have what is surely going to be a SUPER contest putting four men into that ring with a ton of history linked between them.

 

Riley: Would you stop being so dramatic!

 

Comet: Not on your life, Robert! We have the World Champion Danny Williams teaming up with Alan Clark to face the man that defeated Alan Clark on Storm, the despicable Janus…

 

Riley: Wait! Don’t call him that! He’s the number one contender!

 

Comet: As I was saying…and he will be teaming up with a man who is heading into 13th Hour with a whole different hour on his mind, the Triple Crown Champion Landon Maddix!

 

Comet and Riley can barely continue their banter as the lights around the arena dim and Funyon takes his place in the center of the ring, ready to make his announcements…

 

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen the following TAG TEAM CONTEST is scheduled for ONE FALL… introducing first…

 

PREPARE…FOR…LANDON!

 

 

 

…WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH…

 

*DUM DUM*

 

The sounds of Incubus’ “Megalomaniac” begin to surge throughout the arena and lights illuminate the entranceway and the arrival of Landon Maddix! The music becomes nearly drowned out by a chorus of boos as Maddix appears at the top of the ramp, holding out his championships for the world to see. Landon then begins to move toward the ring as Megan appears behind him, following diligently as the Disciple makes his way to the ring. Maddix makes sure to note the jeers raining down on him as Funyon continues with the introduction…

 

Funyon: Introducing first…being accompanied to the ring by Megan Skye…he weighs in at two hundred and ten pounds and hails from Huron, South Dakota…he is the S-W-F TRIPLE CROWN CHAMPION…. LANDOOOON… LA CU-CA-RACHAAAA… MAAAAADDIX!!

 

The boos continue as Maddix hops up to the ring apron and turns back, lending a hand to Skye as she climbs up to join him. The two stand side by side before Landon helps Megan into the ring, following behind her and moving to the apron, leaping up to the second turnbuckle to once again throw his arms into the air, showing off all of his precious, precious gold.

 

Comet: What an ego on that kid…he needs put in his place.

 

Riley: Why don’t you go down there and do it?

 

Comet: Because I’m a respected announcer and superhero. You don’t seem like much, why don’t you do it?

 

Riley: …

 

Riley’s silence is joined by the fading down of the music as Landon hops down from the corner and hands off his title belts to Megan Skye, who exits the ring as a few simple words appear across the SmarkTron…

 

[sTATUS: RELEASED!]

 

The chorus of Fear Factory's "Resurrection" echoes out over the arena, accompanied by a pair of spotlights that swing around the crowd as if searching for the released man. But in the crowd he can not be found as Janus comes stalking through the entranceway, his trench coat flapping behind him. He lifts his arms into the air despite the loud uproarious boos from the crowd drowning out all that can be heard, and begins his slow walk down the ramp.

 

Funyon: And his tag team partner…weighing in at three hundred and sixty pounds…he hails from Sydney, Australia … he is the Hell Machine… JAAAAANUS!!

 

The tidal wave of boos continues as Janus reaches the bottom of the ramp and discards his trenchcoat, laying it on the steps and rolling into the ring. He rises to his feet with a grim expression, thrusting his arms into the air. Blue fountains of flame explode from the turnbuckles, and it is this that brings the light back up as the sound of "Resurrection" fades out. Even Landon Maddix seems a bit freaked out as the flames die down, leaving Janus standing in the center of the ring, his eyes fixated on the entranceway…but what he hears next…

 

CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON…

There’ll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don’t you cry no more…

 

BOOOOM!!

 

High arcs of pyrotechnics burst into the air as Alan Clark appears at the top of the entranceway through the smoke, his body frozen in the moment as the cheers begin to echo from around the Target Center.

 

Funyon: And their opponents…introducing first…weighing in at two hundred and twenty five pounds…he hails from Long Beach, California and is one half of the Wayward Sons… ALAAAAN CLARK!!

 

As Alan’s name rings out, he finally steps out from his frozen trance, each step moving him closer to the two men in the ring, but his eyes stay focused on those of Maddix, and the Triple Crown Champ can not help but return each harsh look with one of his own.

 

Comet: Look at the eyes of Alan Clark! They are like heat vision…burning straight through Landon Maddix!

 

Riley: Jealousy will do that to people, Comet. Look at you, for instance…you’ve always been jealous of me!

 

Comet: I don’t think Alan Clark is jealous at all, Robert. He is looking to put the final nail in the coffin of Landon Maddix and his championship reign…and he just may do it in less than two weeks at 13th Hour!

 

Alan gets to the ring and looks to enter, but his thoughts quickly catch up to him and he stops, keeping himself a good distance away from the two men in the ring as his music fades down and is suddenly replaced by the opening of In Flames “Jester’s Dance”! The quick change of music is followed by the loudest pop of the night…coming from every nook, cranny, and niche of the Target Center as louder and louder chants begin to come out, urging the World Champion to make himself known to the fans…

 

DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E!

 

..and he does!

 

Danny Williams steps through the curtain and out onto the ramp, his championship belt shining in the spotlight as he takes a moment to soak in the cheers. As he begins his march down the aisle, Funyon continues in the ring…

 

Funyon: And his tag team partner…weighing in at two hundred and forty three pounds…he hails from Louisville, Kentucky and is YOUR S-W-F HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WOOOOORLD… DAAAAANNY WILLIAMS!!

 

Williams reaches Clark’s side and the championship confidence seems to light a spark underneath Alan, who looks to run into the ring. Williams stops Clark, however, pulling him back and exchanging a glare as if to say that he is going into the match first. Alan takes the hint and he walks toward the steps, looking to take his place on the apron as Danny points into the ring, motioning for his opponents to back away and give him some room.

 

Riley: What is that idiot doing?! Get in the ring!

 

Comet: He wants this to be a fair fight like every man should, Robert.

 

Janus and Maddix finally take the hint, throwing their hands up in innocence as they back into their corner, with Maddix exiting the ring and giving the number one contender full right to go into the match against his rival to start the contest. As Williams gets to his feet, the referee looks toward the timekeeper…

 

Ding! Ding! Ding!

 

The opening bell rings, and the Target Center erupts into maddening applause. Janus is an absolute monster of a man, literally towering over Williams. Totally perplexed, Williams cautiously approaches his monstrous quarry, having no idea how to go about handling such a powerful beast. The Hell Machine stalks Williams like a hungry dinosaur, causing miniature earthquakes with every powerful step.

 

Comet: What a way to kick things off! The World Champion is literally facing off against the BIGGEST threat to his title, his former friend and stablemate...Janus!

 

Riley: Leaving the Trinity was the smartest move Janus could make. No longer trapped in Danny's shadow, he's now free to prove to the world that he truely is the most devestating force in the history of the SWF.

 

Coming face to chest with his menacing opponent, Williams bravely instigates a collar elbow tie up. The power gap is immense allowing the Hell Machine to easily scoop the Champion off his feet. Intent on causing some serious damage, Janus casually dumps Williams onto the hard canvas with a nasty body slam! Arching his back in discomfort, Danny hustles to his feet only to walk right into another scoop slam!

 

Riley: The Champion is getting manhandled.

 

Comet: Janus is just too big and too strong to be wrestled traditionally. If Danny wants to get anywhere he’s gonna have to stick and move.

 

Feeling confident, Janus beckons Williams to rise. Letting the stunned Champion wobble to his feet, Janus clamps his huge hand around his throat, setting him up for the Chokeslam! The fans slide to the edge of their seats as the Hell Machine prepares to score with one of his signature moves.

 

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

 

Making a frenzied escape, Williams fires off a series of back elbows to Janus’ temple, irritating him to point that he lets him go. Free, the World Champion drops back into the ropes, speeding forward for the Running Elbow!

 

Wham!

 

Janus gets his leg up, letting Danny run face first into his boot! Knocked goofy, Williams drunkenly wobbles in place. Slowly spinning around, the Hell Machine clobbers Danny with a devastating Rolling Lariat! Shaking his leg out, Janus gingerly walks back to his corner, tagging in a very eager Landon Maddix!

 

Comet: Janus bested the Champion, but it looks like he’s still suffering from the effects of Alan Clark’s leg work last week.

 

Riley: You talk about the injustice of eye rakes and choking, but what about trying to break a man’s leg? Every night that little punk is out there trying to end the promising careers of guys like Janus and Landon Maddix and nobody contests it, but if you pull somebody’s hair you better believe there’s hell to pay.

 

Jogging into the ring, Maddix blasts the rising Champion into the ropes with a series of smashing European Uppercuts. Grabbing Williams by his wrist, Landon lets out a cry of effort as he yanks the heavy Champion off the ropes with an Irish whip. Holding his ground, Williams stubbornly reverses the whip, sending the young punk for the ride! Landon rebounds back against his will, running into a hard reverse elbow! Turning to his corner, Williams tags in Clark, who enters the ring to a loud pop!

 

Comet: Here we go!

 

Clark comes in and looks to catch Maddix off guard, but as the Disciple turns around to face the World Champion, he instead finds his nemesis standing only a few feet away and closing in fast!

 

Riley: Get Janus, Landon! He’s right behind you!

 

Riley’s words go unheeded in the heat of the moment, however, as Alan catches up to Landon and begins attacking with vicious chops!

 

Chop! Chop! Chop! Chop!

 

The crowd WHOOs along with each shot as Maddix is pushed back into the neutral corner and Clark seems to have everything under control. With a grunt, Alan pulls Landon away from the corner and whips him across the ring, following closely behind and forgetting all of his acrobatics as Maddix hits the opposite corner and Clark leaps into the air, sending his foot seering straight into the side of Landon’s head!

 

Comet: One Hit Wonder!!

 

The superhero’s cry booms out as Alan lands on his feet after the kick and Maddix stumbles forward out of the corner toward his partner, but only makes it a few steps before falling toward the mat, momentarily losing the battle with gravity.

 

Riley: Get up! Come on! You’re so close!

 

Comet: Not anymore he’s not!

 

Maddix tries to get closer to his corner, but Alan Clark will have none of that as he grabs Landon by the ankles and drags him toward the center of the ring, keeping him separated from his behemoth of a partner. On the outside Megan slaps the apron furiously, trying to do anything she can to get her beau back up to his feet and wiping the floor with Clark like she knows he can do. To her dismay, Alan seems in full control of the situation in the ring, even taking a moment to look toward Janus as he nearly audibly thanks him for the Rage Unleashed on Storm. Janus stays silent on the apron, only giving Clark a simple smile knowing full well that if Janus got back into the ring that the monster would start right where he left off a few days ago.

 

Riley: This is near blasphemous! Alan Clark is taunting Janus on the apron. You’d think he would have learned his lesson after being dropped on his head!

 

Comet: Now now, Robert…history shows that Citizen Clark usually develops an entirely different mindset after taking a shot like he did against Citizen Janus last week.

 

Riley: That mindset must be an idiot…

 

Riley shakes his head in wonder as Alan sends his knee into Maddix’s chest. The impact doubles the Disciple over and puts him in perfect position as Clark hits the far ropes and comes back into the center of the ring. Jumping into the air as he passes Landon, Clark pulls on Maddix’s golden locks…soon after driving him straight down into the canvas with a bulldog!

 

Riley: He pulled his hair!! No fair!!

 

As Landon grabs his head on the mat, Alan gets to his feet and heads back toward the ropes once more, this time hopping up to the middle rope and springboarding backwards through the air! Alan flips delicately in mid-air, bringing all of his weight down and sending his body crashing into Landon with as much force as he can muster.

 

Comet: Big Asai moonsault there from Citizen Clark…and a COVER!

 

One!

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

Landon kicks out just after the two, and even Clark had to realize that it would take more than a simple moonsault to put down the Triple Crown Champion. Alan does not seem worried though, as his actions show a confident man standing in the ring. Clark drags Maddix back up to his feet and looks to go for a tag in the corner, but Landon fights away, pulling himself from Clark’s grip and heading a few feet back toward his corner. Clark is quick to follow…

 

Whiff!

 

…and nearly eats boot as Landon turns into Clark with a superkick attempt, only for Alan to duck his head at the very last moment, causing Maddix’s own momentum to work against him in the kick and send his body flailing as he tries desperately to regain his balance.

 

Comet: Landon Maddix thought he had escaped there but LOOKOUT!

 

The Cyclone Comet is suddenly interrupted as Alan catches Landon from behind with a waistlock and lifts him into the air. Alan spins his body a full half turn to keep from jamming Landon’s head into the bottom rope, and instead slamming it down in one fluid motion straight into the center of the ring!

 

Riley: That was completely uncalled for! He could break Landon’s neck!

 

Comet: Maybe that’s the point, Robert!

 

Riley: and you CONDONE these actions?

 

Comet: I never said I did.

 

The two continue to argue as Alan rolls to his feet and tries for another quick cover…

 

One!

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

Again Landon kicks out just before the three, leaving the crowd to boo (or Two!) down onto the ring as the Disciple tries to shake off the repeated shots to his neck so far in the match. Alan is up quickly and brings Maddix up with him, trying not to give him any recovery time. Alan tries for an irish whip, but Landon changes things up on the Wayward Son, turning the tables and sending Alan flying into the ropes instead!

 

Comet: Lighting quick action from these two!

 

Alan bounces off as Landon looks for a clothesline, but Clark ducks out of the way at the last second, bringing his head down and only inches underneath Maddix’s outstretched arm. Alan freezes in mid-step and turns back to face Landon, who turns expecting to see Alan heading toward the opposite ropes. Instead, he is surprised by Clark, who scoops Maddix off his feet and flips him upside down before dropping down, bringing Landon’s body jarring shoulder-first off of Alan’s knee.

 

Comet: Landon Maddix thought he had the upper-hand there, but Alan Clark turned it right back around on him with that shoulderbreaker!

 

Riley: If Todd Royal was here none of this would be happening!

 

Comet: If Todd Royal interfered it would be cheating, Robert.

 

Riley: How dare you call the divine Todd a cheater!!

 

Riley’s explosive response comes at quite the opportune time, as Janus tries to enter the ring a bit prematurely as Alan works to pull Landon to his feet. The referee moves to stop the Hell Machine’s advances, giving the Disciple a perfect time to gain the advantage with a…

 

Ching!

 

The crowds boos return in almost surreal intensity as Alan drops down on his knees and onto his face. Maddix gets back to his feet with a smile on his face, but it quickly fades and his eyes grow to triple-size as the World Champion enters the ring, looking to put the Disciple in his place for his cheating ways.

 

DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E!

 

The crowds cheers are premature in this instance, though, as the referee turns to see Williams moving toward Maddix with a scowl on his face. Maddix does what every self-respecting superstar would do and runs quickly in the opposite direction as the referee intervenes, yelling towards the World Champion to go back to his corner. Danny, looking ready to explode, almost does not heed the referee’s warnings as Alan recovers on the canvas, but finally caves in…walking back to the corner and sending an accusing look toward the Disciple and the Hell Machine.

 

Riley: That was completely uncalled for! Danny Williams was trying to get involved when he knew he shouldn’t be!

 

Comet: I see your temporary blindness is acting up again, Bobbo…as I distinctly saw Landon Maddix low-blow Alan Clark on moments before!

 

Riley: He was trying to pick him up!

 

The loud boos return as Landon sees that he is in control, but without taking a moment to rest he is back on the attack after the low-blow, pulling Alan up and immediately showing off, kissing his balled fist and sending it with ill abandon into Clark’s forehead. The referee is right there, scolding the Triple Crown Champion much to the crowd’s delight, but Maddix simply ignores the order, firing off another hard shot.

 

Comet: One more shot like that could mean disqualification!

 

Riley: I’m sure Maddix is quite aware of that, Comet. Why do you think he’s not doing it?

 

As stated, Landon does not throw the third punch and instead grabs Alan by the neck, pulling him into a front facelock and reaching for Clark’s left leg before falling backwards and driving his arch rival straight into the mat with a hard snap DDT.

 

Crunch!

 

The force of the blow seems to have hurt more than normal, as Alan rolls to his back and holds his neck, rubbing his hands across it.

 

Comet: Alan Clark’s neck is not at one hundred percent and it is showing right here. Landon Maddix is just going to turn it into jello if this keeps up!

 

Riley: Yeah…and wait until the Number One Contender gets in there!

 

Comet: Children may want to cover their eyes…

 

All across America children are put to bed almost immediately as Landon gets to his feet and sends his smug smile in the World Champion’s direction as he steps backwards and into his corner, throwing his hand out and allowing the Hell Machine his chance to tag in. Janus smiles as he steps over the top rope and into the ring. Together Landon and Janus stuff Clark under their arms, dropping back for the Double DDT of Doom!

 

Riley: Nice double team with Janus brilliantly playing the role of Todd!

 

Janus makes the cover while Landon springs to his feet, daring Williams to come in and do something about it.

 

One!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.............

 

 

Clark manages to get a shoulder up, surprising the hell out of Janus who obviously thought that the little guy was finished. Restoring order, Soapdish forces a trash talking Landon back into his corner, but being alone with Janus isn’t a picnic either. Calmly scooping Alan up onto his shoulders, Janus drops to the canvas, snapping his chin across his shoulder with the 3/4 Neckbreaker!

 

Comet: Thoughts in Chaos! It looks like Janus is picking up where Landon left off by attacking the neck of citizen Clark.

 

Riley: A neck for a leg sounds like a fair trade to me.....if your Janus.

 

The Hell Machine hooks a leg, trying his luck with another pin attempt.

 

 

One!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

 

 

.................

 

 

Williams comes to the rescue, kicking Janus in the face to break up the pin. You would think that such a sickening blow would at least stun Janus, but the snarling Hell Machine jumps up after Danny.

 

Riley: Uh oh, Danny’s pissed him off now!

 

Blind to the impending doom lurching up behind him, the World Champion makes his way back to his corner. Before Danny can step through the ropes, the stone like fists of Janus come raining down upon him. Dragging the startled and battered Champion out of his corner, the Hell Machine grabs him around the throat and suspends high off the canvas.

 

Ka-Boom!

 

Janus slams Danny into the mat with bad intentions, nearly driving him through the ring! Badly hurt, Williams rolls to the outside, leaving Janus alone with his ailing partner.

 

Comet: Merciful heavens what a Chokeslam!

 

Riley: But most importantly, Williams has been taken out of the equation. There’s no one to help Alan Clark now!

 

Purposely stomping his way back to his corner, Janus smacks hands with Landon, who immediately scales the turnbuckles. Janus hastily positions Clark in a standing head scissors, prompting the fans to rise out of their chairs with perverse curiosity. Not keeping his partner waiting, the Hell Machine flips Clark up onto his shoulders without delay while Maddix simultaneously dives off the top rope! Hooking his arm around Clark’s neck, the Triple Crown Champion drives him into the canvas with a nasty Neckbreaker Drop!

 

Comet: The “Todd gave you Wings!”

 

Riley: More like the “Janus gave you Wings.”

 

Grinning from ear to ear, Maddix blankets his rival for the pin. Williams is nowhere in sight, and the fans are very nervous.

 

 

One!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

................

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thre-NO! Alan somehow shoots his arm into the air, bringing the count to a screeching halt! Overjoyed, the fans run in place, making a rumbling sound not unlike raging thunder.

 

Comet: Clark’s fighting spirit is so strong that he doesn't need Williams to make the save.

 

Riley: Oh he will, you just wait and see.

 

Disappointed, Janus rolls back to his corner, nursing his bum knee which was no doubt agitated by the Powerbomb. Nearly pulling his hair out with frustration, Laddin jerks Clark up and sends him into the ropes. Catching his enemy on the rebound, Maddix ties Clark up with the dreaded Octopus Stretch!

 

Comet: The Seventh Ending Stretch, Grand Slam Mark Stevens has made many villains submit to this hold! Keep in mind the move targets the entire upper body, including the neck.

 

Riley: He needs to get to the ropes.

 

Comet: Who, Clark?

 

Riley: No, Landon. He can use the ropes for more leverage, making the hold twice as painful.

 

Jerking his head up and down, Maddix works the hold for all it’s worth, twisting and contorting Alan in a variety of nauseating ways. Clark’s blood curdling screams of anguish draw huge sympathy heat from the thousands of Minnesotans in attendance. Encouraging their hero to fight on, the fans loudly chant..

 

“AL-AN! AL-AN! AL-AN!”

 

Feeding off the electrifying energy of the crowd, Alan laboriously inches his way to the salvation of the ropes. Refusing to let go, Landon keeps the ghastly hold applied anyway.

 

“Boooooooooooooooooooo!”

 

Not tolerating this sort of cruelty, Soapdish starts the five count. Wearing a cocky smirk, Maddix playfully counts along with the official, breaking at the last possible second.

 

Riley: I never understood while people immediately break the hold once they get to the ropes, are they to stupid to realize you can keep the hold applied for another five seconds?

 

By now, Williams is back on the apron, but he can only watch as Maddix playfully smacks Clark around on the ropes. Taking Clark by the wrist, Landon whips him off the cables. Clark springs back against his will, running right back into Landon’s clutches. Maddix casually locks on another Octopus Stretch but Clark shockingly spins behind him. Grabbing a rear waistlock, Clark throws Landon over his head!

 

Crunch!

 

Maddix lands hard on his upper back, gruesomely folding up like a sheet! Turned on by the brutal suplex, the Target Center comes alive with a monestrous pop. Megan turns away in horror, annoyingly shrieking at an unbearable high pitch. Comet is also screeching...

 

Comet: GERMAAAAAN!

 

Both men are down, and the fans are on the edge of their seats. Foggy headed, Maddix begins the long crawl back to his corner, but so does Clark. Because there is no tag rope, Janus is free to lean far over the ropes, extending his long arm deep inside the ring. Williams is hopping up and down like a lunatic, screaming words of encouragement at his wounded partner.

 

Comet: We’ve got a race on our hands now, who will reach their corner first!?

 

Riley: Maddix doesn’t have to go very far though, Janus’ arm is as long as most people’s legs.

 

To the despair of the crowd, Maddix reaches his long armed partner first, making the tag. Stepping over the top rope, Janus lumbers in after Clark. Ignoring the approaching monstrosity behind him, Alan takes one final lunge.......touching hands with Williams! The fans raise the roof as Williams comes storming into the ring like a bat out of hell

 

Comet: Here we go!

 

Having a chip on his shoulder over the Chokeslam, Williams viciously assaults Janus with his trademark elbows, driving the big man into the ropes. With a strenous scream, Danny sends the Hell Machine running with an Irish whip.

 

Wham!

 

Williams catches Janus with a Mule Kick as he bullets back, doubling the Cyclopean beast over. With an emotional cry, Danny boldly traps Janus in a standing head scissors, bringing the fans to their feet!

 

Comet: HE’S GONNA TRY TO POWERBOMB JANUS!?

 

Riley: No way, not even Williams is that strong!

 

Williams trembles with strain but he’s powerless to prevent the seven footer from raising up, flipping him off his back with a back body drop.

 

Riley: I told you that wasn’t happening.

 

Despite taking a helluva fall, Danny is up in no time, however Janus has his sights on him. Getting a good bounce off the ropes, Janus rushes Williams with all the grace of a rhinoceros, dipping his head for the spear! Standing his ground, Williams swings out his forearm for an elbow smash!

 

Swoooooooooooosh!

 

Not falling for that old trick again, Janus ducks under the would be knock out blow, hitting the ropes a second time! Worried, Williams twirls around..

 

BLAM!

 

only to get nuked by a charging Janus!

 

Comet: GORE! GORE! GOOOOOORE!!!

 

Riley: It was just last year that Danny knocked Janus out with an elbow as he blindly rushed in for the spear, but the Hell Machine has gotten a lot smarter since than.

 

Comet: Riley, I’m impressed.

 

Riley: Like I said before, with Tom Flesher out of the Main Event I have to do something to keep the fans tuned in.

 

Letting out a horrifying growl that would make God himself piss his robe, Janus peels the flattened Champion off the canvas, lifting him in an unescapable, torturous, rib breaking arm capture bear hug!

 

Comet: THE HELL CRUSH!!!

 

Riley: He’s gonna make the World Champion submit!

 

Janus jerks Williams from side to side like a rag doll, squeezing his very soul out of him! The pain is indescribable, and it’s quite obvious that Danny isn’t gonna last much longer. Fearing the worse, the fans come to their feet. Slipping into the ring undetected, Clark suavely lays a stiff kick into the back of Janus’ knee! The giant’s leg buckles up underneath him, causing Williams to fall on top of him for the makeshift pin!

 

Riley: That dirty rotten sonuva(bleep)!

 

Comet: This could be it!

 

Still standing, the fans loudly scream along with Soapdish!

 

 

“One!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Two!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...............

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Making the save, Landon blasts Williams’ ribs with a bruising kick! Still in the ring, Clark rushes Landon...

 

Blam!

 

running right into a Superkick! Grabbing his stunned adversary, Landon jumps up on to the middle rope, and elegantly spins off, performing an awe inspiring Tornado Downward Spiral like only he can!

 

Comet: CRASH LANDON!!!

 

Riley: Believe the hype, ladies and gentlemen! Maddix is the real deal!

 

Comet: This might be the crucial swing in momentum that Maddix and Janus need to win the match.

 

Fired up, Landon jumps and down with joy while the shocked fans sit in silence. Stepping in, Soapdish forces Maddix back to his corner where he reluctantly stays. Blank faced, a shell shocked Alan rolls out on to the ring apron. Grimacing in pain, Janus rolls to his corner, tagging in his energized partner!

 

“Booooooooooooooooooooo!”

 

Uncontrollably shaking from his adrenaline rush, Landon leaps over the top rope, spotting Williams pulling himself up in his corner. Wildly rushing in, Maddix relentlessly slams stiff roundhouse kicks into the Champion’s chest! Under fire, Danny helplessly slides to the mat where Landon disturbingly knocks his head from side to side with some more kicks!

 

Riley: Landon’s gonna do it, he’s gonna take the Champion out!

 

Suddenly, Williams starts bringing his arms up, blocking Maddix’s ill aimed kicks! Summoning power from god know’s where, Danny heroically rises out of the corner. Switching game plans, Landon goes upstairs with an elbow only to eat a much harder one in return!

 

Crack!

 

Having never felt such brain rattling power from an elbow before, Maddix staggers backwards in a stupor. Shaking the cobwebs lose, Landon charges right back at him...

 

Crack!

 

walking right to another big elbow! Maddix goes down but stumbles right back up!

 

CRAAACK!

 

Spinning out of the corner, Williams demolishes Maddix with his patent Rolling Elbow! Finally succumbing to the beating he absorbed, Williams collapses to his hands and knees. Pleased by this unexpected turn of events, the fans erupt into a standing ovation!

 

Riley: Ah dammit!

 

Comet: Landon got a little to cocky and made the foolish mistake of going toe to toe with the larger, stronger Champion!

 

Wearing a constant pained expression on his face, Williams comes to his senses and goes for the cover. Clutching his bad knee, the Hell Machine lays pitifully on the arena floor, oblivious to his partner’s dire predicament. Knowing how deadly the Rolling Elbow can be, the fans enthusiastically count along with the official!

 

 

“One!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Two!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.............

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

 

 

NO! Landon just barely kicks out while the fans let out a collective sigh.

 

Riley: It’s not over with yet, Maddix can still come back and win this thing.

 

Having a good idea on how to kill the kid’s fighting spirit, Williams sits Maddix up and pulls back his arm for the Buffalo Sleeper!

 

Comet: Not if he get’s choked out!

 

Danny cranks the feared hold as tightly as possible, ceasing all blood flow to the Triple Crown Champion’s brain! Landon goes into frightful spasms, searching his limbs out for ropes that can’t be found. The nuclear hot crowd is going bananas, bouncing up and down as they wait for the academic tap out!

 

Riley: Uh oh, here comes Janus!

 

The Hell Machine comes hobbling into the ring, dragging his bad wheel behind him. Determined to get Williams off his partner, Janus relentlessly buries his knuckles into the Champion’s forehead! Williams stubbornly hangs on, refusing to let go despite the fact he may end up with brain damage if Janus lands another punch. Out of nowhere, a recovered Clark comes soaring to the rescue, blasting the Hell Machine’s leg with a Springboard Dropkick! Uncharacteristically screaming in pain, Janus vulnerably collapses onto his back.

 

Riley: Dammit to hell that Alan Clark is the dirtiest wrestler in the game!

 

Frantically grabbing hold of Janus’ legs, Alan Clark hastily applies the crippling Cross Lighting Lock!

 

Comet: THE WRATH OF CLARK!!!

 

Now that the Hell Machine is out of the picture, Williams refocuses his attention on Maddix and Buffalo Sleeper! Snarling like a wild animal, the Champion twists Maddix from side to side, shaking the remaining life form his body.

 

Comet: MADDIX IS FADING! MADDIX IS FADING!

 

The fans are literally exploding as the end draws near for Landon! Megan hops on the ring apron, trying in vain to distract Soapdish but it's no use. Slipping into the black abyss of oblivion, a fearful Landon starts tapping like there’s no tomorrow!

 

Ding! Ding! Ding!

 

The roof of the Target Center goes bye bye as the final bell is rung! Williams releases his purple faced victim, and leaps up on to the second turnbuckle, pumping his fist into the air. In not such good condition, Clark meekly releases Janus, who tumbles out of the ring in need of medical attention.

 

Comet: Clark and Williams have done it, they’ve defeated their respected rivals in a grueling tag contest!

 

Riley: This makes me sick! Janus was making the Champion his bitch for most of the match until Alan Clark kept getting involved. That bastard may have done some serious damage to the Janus’ knee, but will he be punished...of course not. But he’ll get his when he has to spend 60 minutes in the ring with Landon, there will be no Danny Williams to hide behind than.

 

Helping Clark to his feet, Williams parades his drowsy opponent around the ring, pimping him as the best thing since sliced bread with compliments like,”I owe this guy one!” In the arms of Megan, Landon sits up, rubbing his throat, staring holes through the victors, especially Clark.

 

Comet: Well fans, it looks like it’s time for me and Bobby to take leave of you. Don’t forget to tune in next week, same SWF time, same SWF channel for Smarkdown!

[5_moves_of_doom 0]

Nice show. I especially recommend the main event... or... well, everything. And these two Tom/Dace matches that I'm marking right now are both really, really good.

 

The card will be up soon, sans descriptions. I just want to get it up as soon as possible.