Lockdown Matches that didn't win

[Cuban Linx 0]

I lose on return, though that tends to happen when you try and shove a match that would go 5000 words+ into a 4000 word limit and cut a vital section of the match out as a result. Of course anyone at all familiar with me knows my writing at all is a victory in itself, and the result being incredibly close hopefully means i haven't totally lost any ability at this i once had.

 

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The opening pyrotechnics display fades, the sold-out San Jose crowd on their feet for the SWF’s latest offering of SWF Lockdown!! It’s standing room only, the crowd volume almost drowning out esteemed colleagues Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley as they get the show underway!

 

Comet:“Ladies, Gentleman and children of ALL ages, strap yourself in and unplug the phone because the SWF is serving up a PPV-sized dish of SWF entertainment in our return to in-ring action following Genesis part-V! Eight big matches including an unprecedented TRIPLE main event, the citizens of the SWF will be going nose-to-nose, toe-to-toe, and arm-to-feathered wing with contenderships and title belts galore up for grabs!”

 

Riley:“Before you drown us in superlatives, Comet, if that IS your real name, I’m gonna tell you how tonight is REALLY going to go down. Tonight is a special night, but not because of any ‘triple main event’, it’s because tonight is the night Revolution Zero begin cementing their legacy in the SWF. Toxxic already had his once-in-a-lifetime fluke loss of the World Title, and now that it’s back where it rightfully belongs it’s never going to leave his waist again, let alone to a WOMAN. Spike Jenkins and Sean Davis will defeat Cortez and Van Siclen for a second time in a row, line up all the contenders you want because Revolution Zero will just knock them right down.”

 

Comet:“Well Robert, with your ‘success’ in predicting outcomes in the past you’ve no doubt jinxed Revolution Zero to defeat tonight, so we’ve got an interesting night ahead. But before that we’ve got our opening match of the evening, and judging by one of the competitors this should certainly be quite ‘interesting’ in it’s own right.”

 

The lights cut out in the arena, the instrumental version of Frank Zappa’s “Let’s Make The Water Turn Black”playing over the speakers, a pair of spotlights illuminating the entryway and catching the… unique sight of a Pirate and a man in a tattered Gorilla Suit clumsily dancing out onto the ramp, waving enthusiastically to the somewhat confused crowd in an effort to pump up the crowd.

 

Riley:“What in the HELL???”

 

The crowd begins to clap along at the beckoning of Cap’n Plundah and Gorilla Pete, before being interrupted by a wheezing, slightly snarling voice booming over the sound system…

 

“WHADDAYA SAY, KIDS!?”

 

A small burst of cheap-looking yellow pyro explodes, followed by Uncle Filthy stepping out onto the stage, magic bindle over his shoulder as he waves to the many fans in attendance. The crowd is somewhat uncertain,but soon start to follow with cheering and applause for the newcomer, they’ve cheered for a guy like Ash Ketchum in the past so if anything this is a step up.

 

Riley:“Is there a Hobo convention in town and someone gave this guy the wrong directions or something?”

 

Comet:“Heaven forbid you look at the card before the show starts, Robert. Uncle Filthy’s the name, and he’s the latest to try and make his mark on the SWF.”

 

Riley:“And what sort of mark would that be, pray tell, a urine stain? I guess I shouldn’t complain though, his opponent’s always been one of my favorites and I guess the SWF higher-ups felt like giving him a quick squash win in his return.”

 

Comet:“Citizen Filthy wouldn’t be here if he weren’t talented, as usual you write off a man with no justification. One would hope Stryke doesn’t make the same mistake.”

 

Uncle Filthy receives a warm reception, dirty beard, tattered clothes and all, as he runs down the ramp, clips from his Fun-ucational™ TV show playing on the Smarks Tron. Filthy reaches the ring, climbing inside and waving to the crowd as he moves to the corner, resting his bindle on the apron up against the ringpost as Gorilla Pete and Cap’n Plundah watch on from ringside.

 

Funyon:“The following contest is set for ONE-FALL! Entering first, accompanied by Gorilla Pete and Cap’n Plundah, he is from The Magical World of Your Imagination, UNCLE FILTHY!!!”

 

Riley:“How Funyon managed to say all that with a straight face I’ll never know. Lets get the REAL wrestler out here and restore a glimmer of normalcy to the program.”

 

Almost out of nowhere a massive wall of blue and silver pyrotechnics fires up all across the stage, Cypress Hill's “How I Could Just Kill A Man”kicking into action and triggering a plethora of boos as Stryke steps out onto the stage, making his return to the SWF for the nth time, the Australian’s sheer number of retirements/comebacks no longer able to be expressed in numerals. The crowd rise to their feet in unison to jeer the returnee, but Stryke pays little attention to them, instead focused on the freak show developing around the ring, a Bum, a Pirate and a Gorilla that last thing Stryke was expecting to see upon his return to competition.

 

Funyon:“Now making his way to the ring, hailing from Sydney, Australia, in his comeback to the SWF this is STRYKE!!!”

 

Stryke slowly steps towards the ring with a look of bemusement on his face, or ‘OMGWTF’ as some dorky kid on the Internet would put it, keeping an eye on the two characters patrolling ringside as he slides into the ring. Stryke hops onto the nearest turnbuckle, raising his arms to greet the fans of the SWF once again, although the expression they send in return is hardly as welcoming one as referee Kivell steps into the ring to get the match underway.

 

Riley:“These ingrate fans may not appreciate the talent of Stryke but I know I’M glad to see him. I just wished he was greeted with someone who doesn’t look like they just crawled out of the sewer.”

 

Kivell motions to signal for the ring bell, but just before he does Stryke sprints across the ring, catching Uncle Filthy off-guard with a Running Forearm right across the jaw!

 

*DING*DING*DING!*

 

The crowd’s dislike for Stryke only escalates as the Australian pounds away on Filthy, backing him up into the corner with a flurry of punches and forearm shots in an attempt to take the newcomer off his game immediately.

 

Comet:“It’s seems his Citizen Stryke’s recent sabbatical has done little to temper his attitude, as much a cheapshot artist as ever.”

 

Riley:“Oh boo-hoo, if Filthy was anything resembling a wrestler he’d be ready when he steps into the ring, not conversing with his fellow nuthouse escapees.”

 

Unfortunately for Filthy his beard provides little in the way to defence to a stiff punch to the jaw, Stryke finally letting up his assault to take Filthy by the arm and whip him across the ring. Filthy slams into the opposite turnbuckles and Stryke pays little respect to Filthy’s ability, charging after and carelessly telegraphing a clothesline from a mile away. It’s no surprise when Filthy moves out of the path of the charging Australian, but the padded turnbuckles do not so much as stun Stryke, pushing himself out of the corner and as Filthy turns back to face him Stryke snatches his arm, snapping Filthy over to the mat with a deep Arm Drag and holding onto the Armbar as he grounds his opponent. Stryke’s intention is not to wear down his opponent though, twisting the arm up behind the wincing Filthy in a Hammerlock before just as quickly transitioning around in front of him and applying a textbook Front Facelock. The boos flowing freely as Stryke smirks,clearly pleased with himself as he toys with Filthy with rudimentary holds.

 

Riley:“It seems Stryke’s planning to show off a few of his skills before he finishes this guy off, how generous of him to give these fans a show and not make this jobber look too bad.”

 

Comet:“Just keep on badmouthing Citizen Filthy, I’m eagerly awaiting him wiping the smile of both yours and Stryke’s face, you know Filthy won’t stand for much more of this.”

 

Not happy with the front facelock, Stryke again looks to show up his opponent, straddling Filthy’s back and sitting down in a Camel Clutch!Stryke give a mock yawn as he loosely wraps his hands around Filthy’s chin, however the increasingly agitated crowd soon has something to cheer about, Stryke too preoccupied taunting the crowd to notice his hand moving a little too close to Filthy’s mouth, and pays for it in very painful fashion as Filthy munches down, biting Stryke right on the hand! The crowd rises as one in approval as Stryke drops to his knees desperately begging off, tears welling in his eyes as Filthy gnaws away on his hand.

 

Riley:“Is this guy so malnourished that he needs to resort to Cannibalism?! I demand he be disqualified immediately,what kind of uncouth ruffian is Stryke in there with?”

 

Comet:“With the complete disregard Stryke gave to his opponent he deserves whatever he gets. I think Stryke will take this a little more seriously now, it looks like he’s crying in there.”

 

Riley:“SHUT UP, he’s not crying, some left over smoke from the opening pyro must have just gotten in his eyes, that’s all. And how can you joke around at a time like this, Stryke’s going to need a rabies test after the match now!”

 

After some beckoning from the referee Filthy releases his mouthful of Australian flesh, Stryke crawling to the safety of the ropes cradling his hand in pain. Having been provoked into seriousness Stryke gets back to his feet, yelling obscenities at his opposition and moving in to shove him back, but his hands meet nothing but air as Filthy dives down, tackling Stryke onto the canvas with a Double Leg Takedown! A chant of “FIL-THY!” starts to gain momentum in the stands, the potentially-drunk Filthy on top of Stryke and railing down on him with right hands, Stryke unable to do anything but cover up and try to block as many shots as he can, a shadow of the cocky dominance he displayed just moments earlier.

 

Uncle Filthy finally aborts his frenzied assault, getting his feet and raising his arm to the now very appreciative crowd on hand. Stryke notices the flurry has ended and lets his guard down to look for Filthy,but all he sees is the bottom of what is only a wrestling boot by the loosest of definitions, Uncle Filthy unloading on Stryke with the GARVIN STOMP~! A roar goes up in approval, Filthy stomping down on every part of Stryke’s body, Stryke desperately scraping and crawling his way to the ropes and the safety they provide, though he still falls victim to numerous stomps to the head, arms, back, legs, torso, by the time Stryke reaches the ropes and manages to pull himself under and out to the arena floor the damage has already been done, the reeling Australian no doubt will find himself covered in bruises and show imprints tomorrow.

 

Comet:“What did I tell you, Robert, perhaps this will teach you not to discount a wrestler before you see what he can do. It’s a lesson Stryke has learnt the hard way, if he doesn’t alter his approach Uncle Filthy shall be looking at a victory on debut.”

 

Stryke sits in a heap at the base of the ramp, looking back up at Uncle Filthy with a mixture of pain and shock at what is occurring. It’s only when Kivell’s count reaches ‘Five’ that Stryke snaps back into awareness, pulling himself up and getting ready to make Filthy pay for his insubordination. Stryke steps back towards the ring, yelling at the nearby Cap’n Plundah to “get out of his face”, before rolling into the ring and slowly moving towards Filthy, no sneak attacks this time as he moves in for the collar-and-elbow tieup. Stryke and Filthy lock arms together, struggling for a brief moment before Stryke alters his grasp and turns Filthy into a side headlock.Stryke squeezes Filthy’s head as he moves closer to the ropes, both men bouncing off the ropes and Filthy making the most of it as he pushes out of the headlock, sending Stryke across the ring and into the opposite ropes. Stryke tries to exert some physical dominance as he sprints back and goes to floor Filthy with a shoulder charge, the only problem being that Filthy doesn’t move an inch and instead Stryke’s the one sent to the canvas! Not one to take a hint Stryke rises once more, lining up Filthy and hitting the ropes for a second shot, the only difference being an even more pronounced result as Stryke ricochets off Filthy hard, again left sprawled across the mat to another large ovation.

 

Comet:“If Stryke thinks he can overpower Filthy he’s set to have even less success than his strategy of mocking Filthy to start the match. Just from the look of him you can tell Uncle Filthy has been in a fistfight in every state in the country, Stryke may have the ego of a heavyweight but he sure doesn’t have the power of one.”

 

If he were a cartoon character there would be steam coming out of Stryke’s ears right now, the Australian even more angry after the second failed Shouldercharge, Stryke back up to his feet and hitting the ropes a third time, charging in with reckless abandon as he attempts to launch Uncle Filthy’s head into the seventh row with a Rolling Forearm! Stryke spins 360 degrees only for his arm to hit nothing but air, Filthy showing some agility to go with his ability to absorb punishment from dickhead cruiserweights as he dodges out of harms way. An off-balance Stryke comes off the ropes again, and this time Uncle Filthy takes control, lifting Stryke up and falling backwards, planting Stryke facefirst on the mat with a Flapjack, Filthy turning the hurting Stryke onto his shoulders and covering for the inaugural pin of the show!

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH… NO, Stryke gets his shoulder up with time to spare.

 

Comet:“Filthy puts Stryke down with a Flapjack he calls the ‘(S is for) Saskatchewan Squirrel Squasher’, a name that spells trouble for Stryke if he keeps acting like a hothead and running into trouble.”

 

Riley:“Who does Uncle Filthy think he is with a dumb move name like that, Ash Ketchum?! Filthy may have gotten a few lucky shots in but it’ll take more than a ridiculously named Flapjack to put Stryke down, I have full confidence he’s just lulling everyone into a false sense of security and will finish Filthy any second now.”

 

The crowd is now right behind the newcomer as Filthy begins to rise, bringing Stryke up with him as he pulls him into a standing headscissors, a cheer echoing throughout the arena as Filthy sets to Piledrive Stryke square on the top of his skull! Stryke still has enough awareness in him to realise the situation though and runs forward, pushing Filthy back as he goes and driving him back into the nearest turnbuckles with force, escaping from Filthy’s grasp and stunning him momentarily from the impact. Stryke goes to capitalise, looking to pay Filthy back for upstaging him in his return so far and he slams a Forearm into Filthy’s face, no dodging this time as it connects with it’s target. Stryke steps back admiring his work, but his strike did less damage than anticipated as the slightly shaken Filthy hits back with a haymaker right hand, a sickening sound resonating around the building, Stryke now seeing multiple Uncle Filthy’s as he drops to one knee, displaying to everyone watching just who’s the harder hitter of the two. Despite his head spinning Stryke steps back up to the plate, getting into an old-fashioned slugfest as he rocks Filthy’s head back with an European Uppercut, Filthy’s head snapping back like a crash-test-dummy’s in a head-on collision. Once more Filthy is no stranger to being hit in the jaw though, and with the crowd volume rising with each shot exchanged Filthy fires back again, Stryke unsure which of the multiple Uncle Filthy’s he’s seeing’s punches to dodge, and so a second powerful right hand blasts Stryke in the face that makes even the staunchest anti-Stryke fan cringe, this time Stryke dropping to both knees, swaying back and forth as his brain shut off after the first punch, let alone the second.

 

Comet:“Citizen Stryke must be out of it, any rational human being would have quit after those vicious punches but he seems to be going back for more!”

 

Stryke staggers up onto his feet, mustering his energy before thrusting forward for another strike, but all Filthy has to do this time is step out of the way, Stryke missing and landing up against the turnbuckles. Before Stryke can turn around Filthy takes advantage of Stryke’s prone position, grabbing a handful of Stryke hair and lifting him back, before slamming him back facefirst onto the top turnbuckle! Stryke is stunned from his face tasting hard padding, but it only gets worse as Filthy keeps hold, lifting Stryke head up and slamming him back down into the turnbuckle again. The crowd yells out ‘TWO!’ at the impact, and far be it from Uncle Filthy to prevent the wrestling fans of San Jose from practicing their counting skills, continuing to slam the increasingly dazed Stryke’s face into the top turnbuckle over and over!

 

“THREE!”

 

“FOUR!”

 

”FIVE!”

 

”SIX!”

 

”SEVEN!”

 

”EIGHT!”

 

”NINE!”

 

”TEN!”

 

The crowd are unanimously on their feet as Filthy relents at ten, Stryke staggering backwards out of the corner like a drunkard after happy hour, eyes glazed over, teetering before finally flopping back to the canvas like a dead fish to a big cheer, Filthy dropping on top for the pin attempt!

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE… NOO! Stryke finds the strength to kickout, though without much in the way or authority.

 

Riley:“I don’t like this at all. OK, so maybe this Filthy character has a little skill, I guess when you spend your life getting in bar fights you’d have to be tough, but he’s still yet to show much in the way of ‘wrestling’ ability, sooner or later Stryke’s class will rise to the top.”

 

The kickout does nothing to phase Filthy, quickly turning Stryke over and latching his arm around Stryke’s head, echoing Stryke’s tactics of earlier as he locks on a Front Facelock. Stryke’s head is already hurting and Filthy cutting off his bloodflow does nothing to help matters, Stryke trying to twist and turn his way out of the hold but to no avail as Filthy keeps a tight grasp.With Stryke under control Filthy looks to press his advantage, standing and keeping the facelock, throwing Stryke’s arm over his head and setting for a Suplex! With the definite power advantage in the match Filthy lifts Stryke skyward with consummate ease, but instead of falling back he moves forward, instead dropping Stryke down stomach-first across the ring ropes with a Front Suplex!

 

Comet:“There’s some of that ‘wrestling’ ability you asked for Robert, a Front Facelock and a Front Suplex showing Filthy’s not just a brawler, maybe now Stryke will realise he’s in there with a guy more than capable of defeating him.”

 

Stryke gasps for breath as he lays prone over the taped cables making up the ring ropes, but he gets little rest of Filthy continues to keep the ever-increasing pressure on, springing off the opposite ropes as he charges in looking to knock Stryke out to the concrete floor below! Filthy picks up to full speed, but just before he can connect Stryke slips off the ropes onto the apron, ducking down and pulling the top rope down with him causing Uncle Filthy to go tumbling over the ropes and crashing out hard to the floor!

 

Riley:“All Stryke needs is one opening and now he’s got it, Uncle Filthy’s about to get a real initiation to what the SWF is all about.”

 

Gorilla Pete and Cap’n Plundah move around to check on Uncle Filthy, helping him back onto his feet as Stryke crawls back into the ring and stands up. Noticing the freak convention outside the ring Stryke quickly springs into action, running at the opposite ropes before sprinting back in Filthy’s direction, the boos of the crowd not enough of a warming as Stryke comes barrelling through the ropes, recklessly flying into the pack with a Tope Con Hilo suicide dive!! His fall cushioned Stryke rises back to his feet, leaving Filthy and friends in a tangled mess on the floor, the tide of the match now turned in Stryke’s favor.

 

His mind seemingly in the game now Stryke pulls Filthy out of the mass of bodies, rolling him into the ring and following for the cover!

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE… NOOOOO!!! Filthy rolls his shoulder in time, keeping his chances of a debut victory alive.

 

Stryke knows he needs to keep building on his advantage, and to that end quickly gets to his feet and hits the ropes, rebounding back and jumping up, coming down right on Filthy’s midsection with a Double Stomp, and adding to the damage Stryke kicks his legs out as he lands and slams down a second time with a Back Senton!Stryke doesn’t go for the pin however, instead standing and moving towards the turnbuckles, going for another high-risk move to finish Filthy off! With his head still ringing the venomous boos barely register, looking back to see Filthy still down as Stryke begins climbing to the top, standing tall on the turnbuckles he tuns and looks down on Uncle Filthy. Without delaying a second Stryke launches forward, soaring across the ring and burying the point of his elbow in Filthy’s chest with a HUGE Top Rope ElbowDrop!! Stryke lays on top for the cover, hooking the leg as Kivell circles into position!

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE… NNNOOOOOO!!! UncleFilthy digs deep and finds the energy to kickout with no time to spare!

 

Comet:“Stryke gets in a flurry of offence, but Citizen Filthy shows can take punishment as well as dish it out, it’s going to take something bigger to end this one.”

 

Stryke slaps the mat in frustration, and moves to finish this one up quickly, signalling for the end as he pulls Stryke into a standing headscissors of his own, looking to compact Uncle Filthy’s spine with a Piledriver!Stryke starts to pull Filthy up, with Kivell temporarily out of position Filthy takes advantage, bringing his arm up and crunching in the extreme lower abdomen! The fans go wild as Stryke convulses in agony, Filthy standing and backdropping Stryke back over to the mat! Both Uncle Filthy and the crowd sense this could be it, and Filthy pumps his fist in the air before leaning over, taking hold of Stryke’s legs and pulling him into a wheelbarrow position!

 

Comet:“Citizen Filthy setting for a Wheelbarrow Powerbomb, if he hits a move that devastating after all the damage he’s taken Stryke’s day shall surely be done!”

 

Filthy gets a tight grasp on Stryke’s legs, and with the fans cheering him on Filthy powers Stryke up, lifting him up into the air! But at the apex of the liftStryke has one last desperate card to play, tucking his body up and grabbing onto Filthy’s body, pulling the newcomer down in a Victory Roll-style pinning predicament!!!

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEE… YEEEESSSSSSS!!!

 

*DING*DING*DING!*

 

Funyon:“Your winner via pinfall,STRYKE!!!”

 

The crowds hatred reaches a new high as Stryke immediately bails from the ring, staggering up the ramp as quick as he tired body can move, raising his arms high and celebrating like he just won a Gold Medal, not barely scraped out the cheap win against a guy in his first match.The crowds reaction soon turns to cheers for Uncle Filthy, impressed with his performance on debut in spite of coming up short.

 

Riley:“A win for the ages, no ring rust here as Stryke returns with a bang!”

 

Comet: “You’re as delusional as Stryke is if you believe that. Regardless of Stryke stealing a victory from the clutches of defeat after being dominated by Citizen Filthy, we’ve still got one hell of a show coming up so don’t go away!”