Crimson comments

[Guest]

It's still going up... I'll edit some more in later.

 

ONE comments thread.  This one.

 

(Bossman puts his foot DOWN!)

 

Woo!

 

-----------------Results---------------

 

Riznults!  No bold tags or anything, just plain ol' typeage.

 

Mak gets his first win, Franchising Cutthroat!  It ain't no thang but a chicken wang...wow, that sounds dirty.

 

Scott Reid's got some issues...

 

Next up, Frost defeats Deathwish, and it gets real ugly!  This match is an excellent hardcore brawl, folks, so I encourage you to check it out.

 

And right after that, Tod accepts Deathwish's challenge for a Euro title rematch on Wednesday?  Is the Germanator getting in over his head?

 

Sydney Sky pulls out a very, very close win over TNT!  Very close match.  I had to read over each match twice to make a decision, and even then it was tough.  Nice stuff from both of you.

 

Flexxx/Ced/Poisyn ends in a no-decision DQ after a pissed-off Flexxx, eliminated first by Ced, gets evil, brutal, and cruel!  Flexxx and Poisyn also seem to sew up their differences after this match, which was written by Flexxx.  It's a goodie.

 

And that damn Flexxx is out again to interrupt Ash's title win celebration, demanding a title shot!  Commissioner Edwin says for him to suck on it, and the tensions run high as Flexxx stalks out...

 

The Insane Luchador gets hiyuuuuge win over Mafia and Z!  Bazaam!

 

In the main event, our inferno match, Xero sets Jake on fire to win the title shot on Crimson!  He also requests a first blood match after beating Jake bloody (very clever, that), but Commissioner Edwin suspends him for Metal due to his actions!  Will he get his match?  We'll see about that...

 

As Jake heads back to the locker room to recover, he's attacked and beaten down by...Scott Reid?!?!?  What the hell?  This new guy is sure making a name for himself, and fast!

 

And, the moment you've all been waiting for...Tom Flesher announces his stipulation for Metal's World Title rematch against Ash Ketchum.  And the stip is...

 

...what, you think I'm going to tell you?  REEEEEAD!  Mwa ha ha.

 

Fine show.  A few too many no-shows, but nice work overall.  Card up very shortly--it's almost ready to go right now.

 

- Quoth Edwin

[Guest Renegade]

Oh man, I posted mine at the exact same time!

 

JL'er of the week will be updated after I read the show

[Guest 5_moves_of_doom]

Bah, I lost. Oh well, to a worthy opponent. Anyhoo, here's my losing match....OF DOOM! Comments are encouraged. Snoochie boochies.

 

An opening shot displays the exterior of the MCI Center in Washington D.C. A sign out front reads: “SJL Crimson! Sold Out!” The screen pans away from the center, briefly showing the White House, where Bill Clinton is attempting to sneak back inside. The camera cuts to the interior of the arena, where an extensive collection of Washington-ites are crammed into the arena, cheering relentlessly. Signs like, “Mafia will make you an offer you can’t refuse,” “Heat is a hobo who lives in the chat board and smells like old rice,” and “Xero is a Zero” dot the enthusiastic audience. The screen abruptly cuts to the three stooges, who are gathered around King’s monitor to watch “Showgirls.” Axis is the first to notice the camera honing in on their erotic exploits, and quickly springs into action.

 

Axis: “Welcome back ladies and gentlemen for May 12th’s addition of SJL Crimson! I’m Axis, and sitting here with me are (looks at his companions, who are still watching the monitor) Oh you two! That is so unprofessional of (noticing monitor) wait, what the hell is she going to do with that…OH MY GOD! King, make sure to make me a copy of this, but right now, we don’t have time as our third match tonight pits long-time Smart Marks superstar Sydney Sky against the SJL Television Champion, ‘TNT’ Taylor Nicholas Thompson!”

Edwin: “Wowza! I’m ecstatic to be here tonight in Washington D.C, located in the great state of…um, what state is Washington D.C. in again?”

King: “Washington?”

Edwin: “Well, for now, we’ll just say New Jersey.”

Axis: “You two are complete morons.”

Edwin: “Hehe. Here that King? Axis called you and that fan sitting behind you morons.”

Axis: “Ugh. Righto, here’s Funyon.”

Funyon: “Ahem. Ladies and gentlemen, and Suicide King, introducing, weighing in at 267 pounds of pure, uninhibited madness, hailing from Anaheim, California, ‘TNT’ Taylor Nicholas Thompson!”

“Oy! Oy! Oy!”

 

The introductory beats of AC/DC’s “TNT” blast from the speakers as Taylor saunters down the aisle, as dark and gloomy black lights illuminate his hulking figure. Suddenly, just as Bon Scott’s screeching vocals reach their climax and he screams, “Watch me exploooooooooooooooooooode!!!!!!!!!” several white and silver flairs ignite simultaneously causing TNT to become livelier and seemingly walk to the beat. Thompson reaches the ring, slides under the bottom rope, and begins his 4-corner ritual, screaming “KABOOM!” at each ring post as the fans cheer “T-N-T! T-N-T!”

 

King: “You know, I sat down for dinner with the president the other night and asked…”

Axis: “The president?”

King: “Pfft. Don’t seem so baffled. Me and him (crosses fingers) are like this.”

Edwin: “Who IS the president of the United States King?”

King: “Duh. Al Gore.”

Axis: “We’ll talk about this later.”

Edwin: “Yipes! Taylor’s adrenaline appears to be running full-speed tonight, as he looks as pumped as ever.”

Axis: “Well, he’s coming back after his first singles loss ever from last Metal against Frost. I’ve heard rumors on the internet that Taylor actually spent 7 hours straight working out at his private gym in the Palm Springs.”

Edwin: “And remember, if it’s on the Internet, it’s GOT to be true.”

King: “Yeah right. The same internet that said you married a panda?”

Edwin: “Hey, no one’s supposed to know about that. (everyone stares oddly at Edwin) I mean…they’re not supposed to know, since it didn’t happen to begin with.”

Axis: “I’m regretting sending that straightjacket back in the mail right about now.”

 

Meanwhile in the ring, Thompson’s music comes to a screeching halt, as he tests the ring ropes, awaiting his opponent…

 

Funyon: “The second competitor in this bout, weighing in at a sultry 170 pounds, hailing from the deep, polluted depths of Los Angeles, California, Sydney Sky!”

Axis: “And here comes the second Californian in this matchup, locked, stocked, and ready to go!”

Edwin: “Was that some sort of sexual reference?”

Axis: “Ye…no.”

 

“Bittersweet Symphony” hits as the Verve’s mellow tunes create the perfect setting for Sky’s arrival. Pyro of many colors spray endlessly at her sides as Sydney smiles, and begins stalking down the entrance ramp, slapping several hands along the way. She enters the ring, gives Funyon a kiss, which he gladly accepts, and sullenly explores the ring area. Referee Mathew Kivell kindly pleads for some sugar, only to receive a swift slap to the face; Sydney stands in the center of the ring as her entrance comes to an end, and shoots a seductive wink towards the announcer’s table.

 

King: “Sky might not be in top condition for this match, as she was up all night long with the King.”

Edwin: “Really?”

King: “Well, I was too hammered to tell if it was her or my dog, but I know I had sex with SOMETHING last night.”

Axis: “At any rate, both adversaries are revving and ready to go!”

 

***DING DING DING***

 

Axis: “And we’re off!”

Edwin: “You know, I think it was Monty Python who once said, ‘Ni!”

King: “What does that have to do with the match?”

Edwin: “Um. (shrugs) Both competitors HAVE knees.”

Axis: “No shit Sherlock.”

 

The two foes stand erect in the center of the ring, face to face, with Taylor gaining a 7-inch advantage. A tumbleweed rolls by the ring as the two exchange intimidating glances. *BOING* With one swift movement, Sky reverberates off of the ring ropes and sails at Thompson with a spinning wheel kick! Thompson scratches his head in confusion, not budging the slightest bit. Sydney stands up, and gapes at TNT once more; she drops low, puts a leg-scissors over Taylor’s left shin, and attempts a drop-toehold! Taylor again shrugs off the move, as Sky tries desperately to trip the mountain of muscle. Sydney kips up, a little aggravated with herself now; she presumably ponders her next course of action, and hits the jackpot as he delivers a swift kick to Taylor’s midsection and rolls him up with a small package! Taylor’s legs wriggle relentlessly as Kivell makes the count.

 

Kivell: “One! Two! Thr…”

 

Thompson quickly kicks out, hops up to his feet, slapping the mat with self-disappointment.

 

Axis: “Sydney out of nowhere with a small package!”

Edwin: “That was as surprising as when Liberace announced he was gay!”

King: “You know, the small package brings back memories, I used to win every single match I had with that move. I mean, sure, I had hit-men run down my opponent in the parking lot before the match, and THEN rolled them up; but in the end it’s all the same.”

Edwin: “King if you were a frog you would be no different than you are now.”

King: “Exqueeze me? A bakingpowder?”

Axis: “Right, there IS a match going on right now you know.”

 

Inside the ring, Taylor is still recuperating from the small blow, but doesn’t have time as Sky comes out with two more kicks to the jaw! TNT catches the third boot, but comes out on the receiving-end of an enzuigiri! Thompson falls to the mat, clasping his jaw in anguish. Quickly convalescing, Taylor is on his knees in no time! Just as he stands however, Sydney delivers a swift kick to the back of the head and fastens on an airtight headlock!

 

Axis: “Sydney has gained some momentum using her light on steroids speed, and is now evidentially slowing things down a bit with a side headlock!”

King: “Yeah right, slowing things down; I guess it takes a wrestling mastermind like myself to notice here currently hatching plan.”

Edwin: “And what’s that plan?”

King: “Why, to flash the audience of course.”

Edwin: “I like the Riot Girl’s thinking.”

 

Thompson bounces off the ropes, and attempts to plant both hands behind Sky’s back, and shove her away; but Sydney grasps TNT’s cranium as if it were Linus’ blanket, planting the explosive warrior into the mat with a bulldog. Thompson, with an obvious strength advantage, quickly manages his way back to his feet, with Sky still clamping her arm around his dreadlock-baring skull. Once again, the Riot Girl attempts a bulldog, but just as the move is reaching its climax, Thompson grabs at her bellybutton ring, sending the malicious mistress to a corner, holding her tummy in pain.

 

Axis: “Oh, well that was a dirty trick by Taylor!”

 

Sky, who is one pissed off female fatale now, charges Taylor with what seems like a clothesline! Thompson covers his head in for safety, but she stops short, revs back, and nails Thompson with a devastating kick to the groin!

 

Axis: “Um, ditto.”

 

Mathew goes to disqualify Sky, but she angrily approaches him, supposedly threatening him with the same fate as TNT; Mathew informs Funyon that the match must go on.

 

King: “I can’t believe Sydney would do such a thing! I don’t care if he is trying to kill you, you just don’t kick a guy in his Johnson.”

Edwin: “Uh, word dawg.”

King: “Word dawg? What, are you black now?”

Edwin: “Yo yo yo. Don’t go jiving on this phat pimp daddy; oh, and that’s ‘ph-‘ phat.”

Axis: “A sphincter says what?

Edwin and King: “What?”

Axis: “Hehe. I made a funny.”

 

Both opponents up and Adam now, as they lock-up in a test of strength! TNT quickly gains the inevitable advantage, powering Sydney into a corner. Kivell makes the 5-count, and on 4 Taylor whips his opponent to the opposite corner! He runs after Sky, who performs a sleek cartwheel, and awaits him with a quick superkick! Thompson goes down, as Sydney makes the quick cover.

 

Kivell: “One!”

 

Taylor quickly powers out, bench pressing Sydney and sending her flying! Sydney collects herself, as Thompson stands and begins to stalk her around the ring. She makes an effort to put him down with a “Hurricane,” but can’t gain any force within her movement and is quickly planted into the mat with a powerbomb!

 

Axis: “Uh oh. She’s in deep granola now! Taylor makes the cover!”

Kivell: “One! Two!”

Edwin: “Jiminy Cricket! Sydney kicks out at the 2/3 mark!”

King: “Jiminy Cricket? What is this, the ‘Micky Mouse Club?’ While we’re at it, why not all name ourselves after the 7 dwarves?”

Edwin: “What a capital idea! Ok, I’m Doc, Axis is Grumpy, Kivell is Dopey, Sydney is Sleepy, Taylor is Happy, Funyon is Bashful, and King is Sneezy.”

King: “SNEEZY!? SNEEZY!? Why the hell am I Sneezy? I shouldn’t have to be Sneezy. I’m former SWF Champion! Former SML Champion! Former Argentinean Shuffleboard Champion!”

Edwin: “Ok, whatever you say Sneezy.”

King: “Edwin, I despise you with a sadistic enthusiasm.”

Edwin: “Snoochie boochies.”

 

Sydney slowly regains consciousness, as Thompson circles her like a bloodthirsty vulture…with dreadlocks…and a goatee…and a tattoo…who’s a pyromaniac. Sky uses the ring ropes for support as she stands, with a very “out of it” expression on her face. Thompson slowly approaches her, and Irish-whips her into the ropes; she comes back as TNT ducks, attempting to backdrop her, only to receive a toe-punt to the face! Thompson backs away holding his noggin in pain, as Sydney follows up with three consecutive dropkicks! She runs off of the ropes, and sends Taylor flying with a monkey-flip! He holds his stomach in grimacing pain as Sky yells at him to recover.

 

Axis: “I don’t think TNT can take too many shots to the stomach area in this match, as Frost tortured it to the point of his first lose ever on Wednesday, hitting it with repeated heart punches.”

Edwin: “And in a supoib match I might add.”

King: *achoo*

Edwin: “See!? What did I tell you? You’re Sneezy!”

King: “Fuck you Eddie Mac. Fuck you.”

 

Thompson stands up, as Sky makes it all but easy for him, putting several boots to his head. Sydney’s kicking romp is cut short however, as TNT grasps her by the throat, lifts her high above his head to a reaction of “ooh’s” and “aah’s” and “Rip her damn shirt off!” With one hasty movement, a sickening thud noise is heard by the audience as Sky plummets to the mat!

 

Axis: “Chokeslam by the dynamite grappler!”

Edwin: “Very few wrestlers can ‘undertake’ the responsibility of pulling off this ‘big show’ of a move, but TNT is one of them for sure.”

King: “Taylor makes the cover, but this former SWF Champ says that he won’t get the 1-2-3!”

Kivell: “One! Two!”

King: “Oh yeah! Who called it? Go King, go King, it’s your birthday, it’s your birthday!”

Edwin: “Both foes stand face to face, like two wrestlers standing face to face…I guess.”

Axis: “Pfft. Edwin, watch the analogies master go to work.”

 

An eerie silence flourishes throughout the arena, only to be abruptly broken as both wrestlers exchange right hands!

 

Axis: “And they’re off like two stoned field mice!”

Edwin: “THAT is your ‘super analogy?”

Axis: “I’m just getting warmed up.”

 

TNT gains the inevitable advantage, slowly directing the group’s pummel-party towards the ring apron; TNT nails a hard haymaker, which sends Sky flying over the ring ropes and to the floor!

 

Axis: “Sky goes sailing over the top rope like Captain Kangaroo!”

Edwin: “Face it Axis. We all suck at analogies.”

 

Axis scowls at MacPhisto, and plants a quick knockout shot to the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache!

 

Axis: “Ouch! I haven’t seen an Englishman take a blow like that since Hugh Grant!”

King: “Hey, wasn’t’ that from South Park?”

Axis: “Silence village idiot.”

Edwin (recovering): “Why you little!”

 

Edwin dives on top of Axis and the two roll around the outside of the ring.

 

King: “And they square off like two homosexual hippo-rapists!”

 

The two brawling commentator’s stare angrily at King, and jump him, putting the boots to the King of Harts! Meanwhile, inside of the ring, er…outside of the ring actually, an Irish-whip exchange takes place, with Taylor gaining the advantage, sending Sky darting into the guardrail! She attempts to come back with a kick to the midsection, but is distracted by several redneck fans attempting to feel her up!

 

Edwin (back in his seat and straightening his tie): “Ahem. Sky trying to come back with a foot-thrust of her own, only to be distracted by a family of Texans!”

Axis: (also recovered): “But that’s not any family of Texans…”

Edwin: “Yes it is.”

Axis: “Oh.”

 

TNT rolls under the bottom rope as referee Mathew Kivell counts Sydney out! Sydney makes it into the ring on the count of seven, but has a troubled entrance into the ring, as TNT barricades her process with several quick elbows to the back! Sydney kips up, delivers a few straight punches to TNT’s chest, hops up, and drives his relatively thick skull into the mat with a hurricanrana! Sky stays in position, pinning Taylor’s shoulders to the mat…

 

Kivell: “One! Two! Thr…”

 

Thompson elevates his shoulder off of the mat in the knick of time only to be pinned once more!

 

Kivell: “One! Two!”

 

Thompson heaves Sydney’s body forward, pinning her to the mat in a sit-out pinning predicament!

 

Kivell: “One! Two!”

 

Sydney pushes upward, again working her way into a pinning predicament!

 

Kivell: “One! Two!”

Axis: “I haven’t seen this much back-and-forth action since the last Spice Girls concert I went to got rioted!”

King: “Spice Girls?”

 

Both wrestlers bail from the tussle, rolling to their respectable corners! Thompson comes revving out of his corner, attempting a big boot, but Sydney reverses it into a crucifix…which fails miserably as her frail little body splatters across the mat as TNT drops backwards. Sydney slowly regains her posture, but is put down again as Taylor comes out with a stiff knee-lift! Again Sydney falls lifelessly to the mat, but finds herself being yanked up in no time as TNT practically rips her hair out. Taylor sends Sydney to the ropes, and catches the rebound with a rear waist lock. Sydney struggles out of the maneuver, twirling around him and cinching on her own waist lock! She hooks the arms, setting up her lumberous foe for a Tiger Suplex! Thompson somehow twists out of THAT, putting himself in an Impailer position! Taylor leans back…

 

Axis: “What the fuck is going on in that screwed up head of his now? What the…OH MY GOD! Vertebraker! Vertebraker! I have NEVER seen TNT pull off such a spectacle! The match is over!”

King: “I beg to differ.”

Kivell: “One…break!”

Edwin: “Sky’s foot was on the ropes! The count is broken!”

King: “Ah fiddlesticks. I just want this double-face matchup to be over with.”

Edwin: “Word dawg.”

 

Thompson quickly jolts up, staring Kivell precariously. He approaches Mathew, cornering him against a turnbuckle and verbally berating him. Kivell tells him to just get on with the match, but as he turns around, Sydney comes out of nowhere, grabbing TNT in a DDT position, spinning around, and torquing his neck as she plunges down to the mat with a Twist-of-Fate-esque maneuver that she calls the Sky Twirl! Sydney hooks the leg…

 

Kivell: “One! Two! Thr…”

Axis: “Thompson kicks out at 2.99999 after a Sky Twirl!”

King: “A move more horrid than a Mary Kate and Ashley movie!”

Edwin: “What are you talking about King? Ashley Olsen is Oscar material. She’d be the king…er…queen of the world if it weren’t for that damn Mary Kate holding her down…”

King: “Edwin, they’re the same damn thing.”

Edwin: “Hey Suicide! If you can’t see what an untalented money grubbing whore that Mary Kate is, then I don’t know what you can see.”

King: “I can see that you’re a moron.”

 

Sydney struggles as she pries Taylor’s lifeless carcass off of the mat, only to put him back to the mat with a head-scissors takedown, pinning him in the process!

 

Kivell: “One! Two! Thr…”

 

Taylor lifts his shoulder a fraction of an inch off of the mat, only to be pinned back down!

 

Kivell: “One! Two!”

 

Another kick out. Another cover.

 

Kivell: “One!”

Axis: “Sky tries finishing the job with a head-scissors takedown, but just can’t keep Taylor’s shoulders onto the mat!”

 

Sydney slaps the mat in aggravation, slowly rising to her feet. Taylor takes a cue, mimicking her as he also positions himself in a standing quandary. Suddenly, a “REN-E-GADE” chant erupts randomly from the crowd, confusing both the wrestlers and commentators.

 

King: “Why the hell are they chanting for Renegade? He’s not even in the match.”

Axis: “I have no clue. It’s almost as if someone was making this match up simply for a sleazy Internet federation and Renegade conned the writer into randomly inserting a chant while the two were chatting online.”

Edwin: “That is the most farfetched idea I have ever heard Axis. You’ve been watching too much “Ridley’s Believe It or Not.”

Axis: “Yeah, I guess that was a dumb idea.”

 

As all three commentators wink at the camera, the pace is picking up inside the ring. Sydney hurls Taylor towards the ring ropes, but Taylor reverses, thrusting Sky’s lightweight body to the mat with an “Arn-y” spinebuster! Taylor kips up, basking in a “T-N-T” chant arousing from the keyed up crowd. Taylor points his left pointer finger upwards, and begins walking towards the turnbuckle to a resounding reaction from the crowd. Step by step, he scales the ring post, the audience’s blaring cheers loudening with each pace. At the pinnacle of the post, Taylor scans the fervent spectators, yelps out a “KABOOM!” and plunges to the mat with his elbow extended, as several camera flashes elucidate the 747-ish TNT.

 

Axis: “Shell shocked! Shell shocked! We all know what this will lead to!”

King (fiddles with monitor): “Yep, the rest of ‘Showgirls!”

Axis: “King, just wait until the end of the match.”

Edwin: “Word dawg.”

King: “Would you stop saying that?”

Axis: “Actually, that could end the match right there. Taylor just needs to collapse over Sydney’s body and he’s set.”

 

On Axis’ cue, Taylor inches his corpse over to Sky’s corpse, and manages to rest one arm across her chest.

 

Kivell: “One! Two! Thr…”

Axis: “She kicks out! She kicks out!”

King: *achoo* “A show of physical prowess and super-duper vitality was shown with that act of desperation.”

Edwin: “Prowess?”

King: “Oh look it up for god’s sake.”

 

As Edwin pulls out a dictionary and begins rapidly flipping through the pages, Taylor has manages to haul Sydney up to her feet. With one swift thrusting motion, Taylor jams Sky’s head between his legs, locking on a standing head-scissors. He hooks the arms, with Sydney still making no movement; he lifts her up…

 

Axis: “Could it be?”

Edwin (pointing at a spot in the dictionary): “Hey, I found it! ‘the male organ of copulation.’ What does that mean?”

King: ”Um, Edwin, that’s penis, not prowess…”

 

Suicide is suddenly interrupted by a resonant *thud* which signals Sky’s body splattering over the mat.

 

Axis: “It is! The modified Tiger Driver ’92 that TNT calls Dynamite! Will it be enough?”

Kivell: “One!”

 

Suddenly, the heavy grinding grooves of Dillinger Escape Plan’s “Calculating Infinity” blare from the speakers as the audience, wrestlers, commentators, and hoboes all collectively direct their glances towards the entrance ramp, awaiting the inevitable aftermath, “Deathwish Danny Williams’ arrival.

 

Kivell: “Two!”

 

With nothing emerging from the ramp, the crowd looks around in confusion, only to spot Danny rushing through the audience with a steel chair! Taylor releases Sky from his sit-out pin, and rapidly strides towards the ring ropes, awaiting his former mentor’s attempt at interference.

 

King: “Oh, looky here, the old chap has come to take a seat and watch the rest of the match.”

Axis: “I don’t think so King.”

 

As Sydney recuperates behind the oblivious Taylor, Deathwish attempts to slide through the ring ropes, unsuccessfully as he receives several boots the back of the head.

 

King: “Would you look at this monstrosity? Danny was trying to make his way into the ring to give a get the best view possible of this match, and Taylor’s trying to stop him!”

Axis: “Where the hell is Mathew during all of this?”

 

The screen cuts to Kivell, who is flirting with Chelsea Clinton, who sits in the front row.

 

King: “He doesn’t want to get on Deathwish’ bad side, that’s almost like wishing for…um…death.”

 

Danny, who has somehow managed to gain posture inside the ring now, revs back with his steel weaponry…

 

Axis: “He swings!”

Edwin: “He ducks!”

King: “He smacks little Sydney right in her lovely face!”

 

Just as the announcer’s filled the viewers in on, Sydney has been blasted with the seating mechanism and lays in a limp heap, soaking in a puddle of her own blood. Deathwish’ eyes dart around in a puzzled manner, as he quickly exits the ring and bails up the entrance ramp. Taylor looks upset, but merely shrugs, flips off Danny to the delight of the viewers, and lies on top of the legally dead Riot Girl, just as Kivell re-enters the ring.

 

Kivell: “One!”

Axis: “Not this way!”

Kivell: “Two!”

Edwin: “Afraid so my fellow chum.”

Kivell: “Three!”

 

***DING DING DING***

 

The soothing tunes of AC/DC start up as Taylor grimly stands, baring a broad smile directed towards Deathwish, who is angrily stomping up the entrance ramp. Taylor collects his belt from Funyon, poses on two ring posts, and abruptly leaves, raising one arm up high as a sign of victory.

 

King: “Chaching! Taylor picks up yet another win for team TNT!”

Axis: “I thought you hated him.”

King: “I did, until Danny made him win.”

Edwin: “You’re saying this was on purpose.”

King: “Well, my magic 8-ball says yes, and it’s never been wrong.”

Axis: “You bought it today.”

King: “Never been wrong alright.”

Edwin: “Huzzah. That’s just peachy. Anyhoo, back to ‘Showgirls.”

 

The screen fades to black with the last image being Edwin, Axis, and King all tuning in some wholesome family entertainment via King’s monitor.

 

>insert hooker adds here, because in the fantasy world of SJL, every add, is a hooker add<

[Guest]

From the parts I've skimmed, the show was very solid.  Good jobs all around.

 

Yay!  Scott Reid is getting noticed!  My actions iwll be explained come Metal.

 

Psst... Push Mr. Reid.

 

Supper wow to IL. Mad props to him.

[Guest Renegade]

Well, to be honest i was a incy bit dissapointed at the length of some of the matches, but the promo's made up for that, props to the winners. Next main event should be good. Scott attacking Jake? You beingz so dead meat boy!

 

Renegade chants! Hurrah! check them yourselves!

 

Well after reading both Crimson and last metal...the SJL'er of the week is.....

 

Frost again? w00t!Dude you are kicking serious ass!

 

Flexxx and IL are the runners up, too close to call to pick one runner up this time round.

[Guest Longdogger_Pete]

Marker's Notes: Great match by Frost.  I love reading hardcore matches, and this one took the cake with some creative interference by Edwin MacPhisto.  "Deathwish" Danny Williams also put in a strong showing with a match featuring more wrestling, less weaponry, and a lot of glass, making my decision a difficult one.  Props to both guys.

 

Historian's Notes: We finally get rid of that clusterfuck of ties, well, mostly.  Frost's win solidifies him on the top ten, Sydney straightens herself out as well, and Xero takes the number two spot.

 

Rankings Top Ten

 

#1. Ash Ketchum (53)

#2. Xero (32)

#3. Insane Luchador (31)

#4. "The Superior One" Tom Flesher (29)

#5. Sydney Sky (28)

#6. Flunkmasta Flexxx (27)

#7. (tie) Mafia (26)

#7. (tie) Poisyn (26)

#9. Frost (17)

#10. Kojack (15)

[Guest Tod deKindes]

LDP, I'm curious, can I ask you what my score is? Can't wait to see when I'll appear in the rankings.

[Guest Insanityman]

Solid show, did I win by no-show? Anyways, I'm like in awe I've finally written a decent match. Good job to all, and kudos to every winner and shower. (Especially Xero).

[Guest]

Solid show, did I win by no-show? Anyways, I'm like in awe I've finally written a decent match. Good job to all, and kudos to every winner and shower. (Especially Xero).

 

I no-showed, I don't have any idea about Z. I was sick and wanted some sleep, so I didn't feel like putting the last half of a match together.

[Guest 5_moves_of_doom]

Wow, 8 replies, new record!

 

Anyhoo, to actually COMMENT, I'm REALLY looking foward to the World Title match on Wednesday.

[Guest Sydney_Sky]

LDP, I'm curious, can I ask you what my score is? Can't wait to see when I'll appear in the rankings.

LDP will probably tell ya your score sometime today if he hasn't already. He ain't home from work yet.

 

And it was a great show! I have to say, I was surprised I won, considering that match was HELL to even write. I had a hard time getting that one out..so, TNT.. you are worthy competition.. and you are a great writer. Keep up the good work.

 

I'm still the Queen of Everything, though.

[Guest Muzz]

Renegade loves Frost.

 

There's my comments...

 

Oh, but congratulations to all the winners, and to the losers, a fist shake.

 

Yeah, that's right, you n00bs will have to deal with my legendary fist shake...

[Guest Coffin Surfer]

O.K heres my losing match. As far as inring work goes, I feel its one of the best matches I ever wrote. I had alot of fun writing this one. I'am gonna use an ECW like crowd for all my matches form now on.

 

Sadly, inbetween a late card and working all day Saturday.  I had to write the whole match in one day.  So I didn't really have time to put forth any effort in the commentary(my weakest point to begin with.)  The commentary for this match is so freaking bad, I've edited it out for this post, because I think it actually takes away from the match.

 

 

 

Axis: Good day mates.  Welcome back to SJL Crimson........

 

Some drunks break into a “show your tits” chant at Axis.  Axis nervously slumps into his chair.

 

Edwin: Judging by the cat calls, the fans are clearly piss drunk. So I guess its time for this weeks Hardcore Match.  This week we have what is sure to be a bloody good Hardcore match Williams and Frost.

 

King: What is a matter with you Edwin? Clearly Danny Williams is above this garbage match booking.  He should be getting a rematch with Tod for the European Championship.

 

Edwin: King! Always respect the booker.  I know what I’am doing, besides this match is sure to have buckets of blood.

 

King: Buckets of Blood Hmmmm.......O.K. I’m game, let this blood bath begin.  

 

Funyon: Introducing first, weighing in at 296 lbs, from Reykjavic, Iceland.  He is FROSTsssssss.  

 

““Cities on Flame with Rock ‘‘n Roll”” blasts over the speakers as Frost steps behind the curtain.  Frost begin his slow march to the ring, as the fans taunt him with “Frooooost” chant.   Frost pays no attention and climbs into the ring, and sticks his arm in the air.

 

Funyon: The following match is scheduled for one fall, and is for the SJL European Championship!  Introducing first, weighing in at 238 lbs, he hails from Louisville, Kenutcky. “DEATHWISH” DANNY WILLIAMSssssssssss!!!!!    

 

The heavy grinding grooves of Dillinger Escape Plans "Calculating Infinity" blasts over the loud speakers. The smarktron simply says Deathwish in white letters and follows that with highlights of Dannys Indie and New Japan Matches. Danny comes out on to the platform. He simply looks around, and shakes his head to a small chorus of boos. He walks to the ring with a focused, no nonsense look on his face. Williams stops and doesn’t enter the ring.

 

Axis: Williams isn’t entering the ring.  He obviously is very much aware of Frost’s habit of attacking his opponents before the bell.

 

Edwin: Yeah, but the bell won’t ring until he enters the ring.

 

King: All this already is boring the hell out of me.

 

Before entering the ring, Williams exchanges a cold stare with Frost.  Both men’s faces wrinkle with rage, as they snort like bulls. Williams pierces the silence with a primal scream, before diving into the ring.  Frost draws back and fires a thunderous right hook.  Williams ducks, and counters with three quick elbows to his jaw.  Williams shoves the stunned Frost into the ropes, and sends him running with in Irishwhip.  Frost hits the ropes, and comes charging back at a waiting Williams.  Williams catches Frost, with a cracking back elbow.

 

Off balance and holding his jaw, Frost staggers into a near by corner.  Cameras light the ring as Williams charges, and executes a perfect handspring elbow.  The elbow connects right with Frost’s mouth.  A dazed Frost walks to the center of the ring, and collapses on one knee.  Williams takes the opportunity to ascend to the tope rope.  After spitting some blood, Frost rises to his feet.  Cameras flash as Williams leaps from the tope rope, and drills Frost in the chest with a Missile Dropkick.  After being knocked to the mat, Frost immediately rolls out of the ring.

 

 

Williams positions himself on the other side of the ring and waits. Williams squints his eyes, watching Frost’s head peak above the apron.  With that sign, Williams bounces off the ropes and goes flying across the ring.  Frost shakes the cob webs loose, and turns around.  Its to late as Williams dives through the second rope, and nails Frost with an Elbow Suicida.  The fans burst  into a “He’s Hardcore, He’s Hardcore” chant. Pouring sweat and breathing hard, Williams slowly climbs on the apron. Frost remains seated on the floor, holding his mouth. The crowd demands “TURNBUCKLE! TURNBUCKLE!” so  Williams walks across the apron and climbs to the top turnbuckle.  Blood dribbles from Frost’s mouth as he climbs to his feet.  Williams balances himself on the tope rope, with his back turned to Frost.  Williams sneaks a peek at Frost, and than dives off backwards of the tope rope.  Frost instinctively raises out his arms, but it does no good as Williams crashes into him with a Moonsault. Both men are down, and a “SJL! SJL!” chat breaks out.

 

An exhausted Williams pulls himself up.  Williams rolls back in the ring, and remains on his back breathing hard.  Not long after, Frost gets back on his feet.  Williams takes notice and jumps up.  Ignoring the taunts of the front roll fans, Frost keeps his eyes locked on Williams.  Williams yells “Come On!” and motions for Frost to get in the ring.  Frost calmly steps back into the ring, without taking his eyes off Williams. The crowd taunts “FROST IS A PUSSY” to rhythmic feet stomping. Williams keeps a distance, and lets Frost back in the ring.  Frost’s eyes twitch with pinned up rage, as he slowly approaches Williams.  Williams isn’t intimidated, and stands his ground.  Frost gets with in inches of Williams, and glares down at him.  A snarling Williams looks up, and suddenly gives Frost a hard push.  Frost barely moves, and comes back with a shove his own. The shove knocks Williams so hard into the ropes, he has to hold on to keep from bouncing back. A monstrous looking Frost, flexes his massive pecs at Williams. Williams isn’t impressed, and fires a hard knife edge chop.  The blow connects with a hard smack against Frost’s chiseled chest.  “Woooo!”  The strike has no effect, and Frost just confidently smiles back at Williams.  

 

 

Williams raises his eyebrows in shock, before trying another chop.  “Woooo!” A grinning Frost just shakes his head, and waves his finger back and forth. Williams slowly nods, and then sticks his middle finger right in Frost’s face.  Frost remains ice, and casually swats Williams hand down. As soon as his head is knocked down, Williams fires another chop.  “Wooooo!”  Frost turns his back, grunting and holding his chest.  Williams smirks and confidently approaches.  Suddenly, Frost turns around and floors Williams with a Spinning Back Fist.   Williams pops back up, but Frost catches  him with a straight right. The blow connects with a loud crack, and Williams stumbles backwards onto the ropes.  Frost unleashes a fury of right and left hooks, but Williams covers up.  Frost just steps back, and blasts though Williams defenses with a vicious uppercut. Williams head snaps up, and his arms drop to the side. Frost follows with a crushing right hook, sending Williams to the mat.  Williams lands gruesomely, with his leg bent behind his back.

 

 

Frost steps back, and raises his fist in the air.  He gets a few “boos” from the crowd, before rolling out of the ring.  Kivell knells beside Williams, and starts slapping him in the face to wake him up.   Frosts pulls out a table from underneath the ring, and sets it up near the apron.  The crowd applauds the table, not Frost.  Frost slides back in the ring, and shoves Kivell out of the way.  Frost removes his right knee pad and pulls Williams up by his chin. Frost looks Williams right in the eyes, and than drives his head  into his knee with the Facebuster.  Williams collapses on his back, with his eyes rolled up in his head.  Frost bends down and lifts Williams head up.  Frost releases his grip, and Williams head falls lifeless back to the mat. Frost repeats with the same result.  Feeling satisfied, Frost waves its “all over” and covers Williams for the pin.  

 

One.....

Two.......

 

Williams places his foot on the rope.  Frost hooks the leg and Kivell starts the count over.  

 

One....

Two.....

 

Williams raises his shoulder up.  A furious Frost pounds his fists on the mat and rises to his feet.  

Veins bulge out of Frost’s body, as he grinds his teeth and waves for Williams to get up.  Williams crawls to a corner, and uses the turnbuckles to pull himself up.  Frost stalks Williams, and cracks him with a swift uppercut.  Williams knees give out, and he falls into a seated position in the corner.  Frost shows no mercy, and starts driving knees in Williams head.  Williams head sickly bounces back and forth with each knee.  Kivell steps in, but Frost shoves him to the mat and threatens him.  

 

A dazed Williams rolls on to the apron, above the table.  Frost turns away from Kivell, and steps out on to the apron.  Frost pulls Williams in a standing head scissors, and hooks his arms.

 

Williams slumps down to his knees, but Frost pulls him up.  Frost takes a couple of deep breathes, and lifts Williams in the air, turns around, and executes the Early Winter from the apron!  They land on top of the table, which breaks in half, sending splinters flying through the air.  Frost falls back from the sit out position, screaming and holding his back.  Williams lays motionless on the floor.  The crowd shouts in unison “Holy Shit! Holy Shit! Holy Shit!”.  Which is followed by an “SJL, SJL, SJL” chant.

 

After about a minute, Frost uses the apron to pull himself up.  He takes slow easy steps, holding his back, and wincing in pain.  Frost lets out a grunt, as he bends over to lift up Williams.  Williams is completely limp, and Frost has to lock his arms around William’s waist to lift him on the apron. Frost rolls Williams in the ring, crawls in himself, and covers for the exhausted pin.  The crowd counts with Kivell.

 

One......

Two......

Thre...

 

NO! Williams raises his shoulder up at the last possible second.

 

 

 

Edwin: Williams is a perfectionist, and he hates to lose.  If he is conscious he will kick out.  You might say he has a “Deathwish”

 

Frost is to hurt to argue, and just rolls off Williams. Both men are down, and breathing hard.  Frost finally gets to his feet, and steps over the still floored Williams.  Frost pulls Williams into a standing head scissors, and locks his arms around his waist. Frost grunts and strains to lift Williams up. Williams drops to his knee, and Frost pounds his back with closed fists.  Frost lifts Williams up again and after several attempts Frost lifts Williams in the air with a roar. Instead of power bombing him, Frost locks on the Icelandic Back Breaker.    Williams screams so loud, the fans in the very back can hear him.  The crowd moans “BOOORING, BOOORING,”.  Frost’s body goes into shakes, as he strains to keep the hold applied. Frost manages to spit out “ASK HIM!”.   Kivell asks Williams if he wants to quit, and Williams screams “NO! NO GOD DAMMIT!”  A frustrated Frost spins around in circles, elevating Williams body in to the air.  Frost releases the Airplane Spin and sending Williams crashing to the mat. After regaining his balance, Frost executes a Spinning Leg Drop on Williams, and covers for the pin.

 

One....

Two....

 

Williams kicks out, and starts crawling away.  Frost catches him by his tights and pulls him to his feet.  The crowd “boos” as Frost locks on a Cobra Clutch. Instead of holding for the submission, Frost snaps back with the Suplex. Williams lands hard on his head, and lays twitching on the mat.  Frost sits up, and wipes some sweat off his forehead.  He takes a few breathes, and crawls on top of Williams for the pin.

 

One....

Two......

Thre.....

 

NO!  Williams raises his shoulder up.  Frost sits up on his knees, and lets out a sigh.  Frost shakes his head in disbelief and slowly climbs to his feet.  Frost locks his arms under Williams armpits and pulls his lifeless body up.  In one swift motion, Frost releases one arm, hooks Williams leg, and snaps back for the Exploder Suplex!  Williams bounces off his head, sits up, and falls lifelessly on his back.  With sweat dripping off his face by the bucket full, Frost crawls over Williams, and collapses for the pin.

 

One.....

Two.....

Three!.

 

No! Kivell waves off the count and points to Williams foot underneath the rope.  Frost doesn’t even make an attempt to hook the leg, instead he just buries his face in his hands and kicks his feet.  In enraged Frost jumps to his feet, grabs the ropes, and starts kicking Williams in his ribs.  The force of the kicks roll Williams out of the ring, and on to the floor.   Frost nervously runs his hands, through his short hair, and ponders what to do next.  The crowd helps out “WE WANT GLASS! WE WANT GLASS!”  Frost slowly grows a huge grin, and rolls outside of the ring.  Frost lifts up the ring apron, and pulls out a sheet of glass!  

 

 

With the pane of glass in hand, Frost reenters the ring. Frost holds the pane of glass high above his head, and roars at the crowd.  Williams remains on the outside, on his hands and knees still struggling to get up.   Frost neatly sets the pane of glass in a corner, and slides out of the ring.   Keeping an eye on Williams, Frost forces an official out of his chair.  Frost folds up the chair and stalks Williams as he blindly crawls on the floor.  Frost has a sick smile on his face, as he steps in front of Williams and draws back the chair.  Williams grabs Frost’s legs, and pitifully tries to pull himself up. Frost just chuckles and prepares to swing.  Suddenly Williams drives his fist into Frost’s groin for the low blow.

 

 

Frost drops the chair, and crumbles to the mat.  With his mouth hanging open and eyes in a blank stare, Williams feels for the chair, finally finding it.  Williams grabs the chair, and uses it to stand up.  Barely able to stand, Williams raises the chair above his head, and yells at Frost to “Get Up!”.  Frost grabs the apron to pull himself.  Williams drives the chair down into Frost’s extended arm. Frost jumps to his feet, holding his arm and screaming.  Williams smacks his arm with the chair again.  Frost falls to the mat, rolling on the ground and holding his arm.  The front row shouts “Break his Arm! Break his Arm!”.

 

 

Williams throws the chair in the ring, and rolls in.  Williams motions for Frost to “Come On”.   Frost shakes his arm, and wiggles his fingers trying to get the feeling to come back in them.  Frost gives up and is in to much of a rage to wait any longer. He hastily climbs on to the apron, but gets greeted with a cracking elbow from Williams.  Frost lifelessly hangs over the top rope.  Williams grabs his injured right arm, and snaps it over the top rope.  Frost screams in agony and nearly passes out from the pain. Williams spins him around and with a powerful roar Backdrop Suplexes him into the ring.  Frost lands hard, nearly shaking the ring apart.  The crowd “OOOHs”.  Williams locks a kneeling armbar on the laid out Frost.  Frost awakes from the pain, spins away from the pressure, and gets on his feet.  Once on their feet, Frost  runs Williams into the ropes, and shoots him off.  Frost catches Williams with a Tilt-A-Whirl Slam, but his arm gives out.  Williams lands on his feet, and scoops up Frost for the Tombstone.  Frost is to heavy, and Williams falls backwards.  Frost lands on his feet, reversing to a Tombstone of his own.  Frost plants Williams head into the mat, and covers for the pin.  

 

One......

Two......

 

Frost pulls Williams up and shakes his head at Kivell.  Frost pulls the lifeless Williams up by his throat.  Frost waits until Williams face turns purple from lack of air, before throwing him into a corner.  Frost points to the glass plate in the cross corner, and the crowd gets on their feet.

 

Frost grabs Williams’ arm and whips him out of the corner.  Williams holds on to Frost’s arm and reverses.  Frost keeps a hold of Williams’ arm and reverses again.  Williams crashes at full speed  into the plate glass.  The glass shatters into thousands of pieces all over Williams, with a loud crash.  The audience shares a collective “Ohhhhh”, which is followed by a “Holy Shit” chant.  Covered in glass, Williams curls up in the corner, with speckles of blood all over his back.  

 

With a deranged look in his eyes, Frost slowly approaches Williams.  Frost bends over to pick Williams up, but Williams jams a knife like piece of glass into his shoulder. Frost cries in pain, as blood spurts from his shoulder like a water fall. Some children in the audience can be heard crying, and some women turn away in horror. While drunks cheer their asses off.

 

Williams pulls the blood soaked piece of glass from the wound and tosses it out of the ring.  Frost drops to his knees, holding his shoulder desperately trying to hold the spurting blood in his body.  Williams stands up, letting the blood run down his back and soak his tights. Williams wipes a small gash on his forehead, causing it to ooze blood. Williams steps behind Frost, and holds out his arms.  The crowd recovers from the shock of the blood bath and cheers as Williams snaps on The Crossface Chickenwing.

 

 

 

Williams locks on the body scissors, and pulls Frost down to the mat.  Frost screams fill the arena, as blood flows from his shoulder into a pool on the mat.  Williams is covered in Frost’s blood as well as his own.  Kivell bends over to ask Frost if he quits, Frost screams “NO! NEVER! Never! never! never.......nev........” Frost appears to go out cold, from blood loss.  Kivell holds up Frost’s arm, and it drops.  Kivell holds up one finger to the crowd, and repeats.  Again Frost’s arm drops, Kivell holds up two fingers to the crowd. Kivell lifts up Frost’s arm a final time, and again it drops lifelessly back to the mat with a thump.  Kivell calls for the bell.

 

DING! DING! DING!  

 

The crowd gives the loudest applause of the night, as they go into an “SJL” chant yet again.  Both men remain on the mat, with blood flowing form their bodies.  Kivell signals for paramedics, that come rushing down the aisle immediately.  

 

Axis: This has truly been one for the ages.  I don’t know if either man will be the same after this.  

 

Edwin: Williams has stopped the unstoppable monster Frost.  But look how far he had to go,  he nearly killed the man in the ring.

 

King: Well, I think Williams proves his point.  He deserves the European Title shot more than anybody.  He was robbed last week, and he deserves a rematch.  

 

Edwin: Maybe King, but I stand my word.  Frost earned the Title shot, and he will get it. That is if he lives through the night.

 

Axis: Stay tuned folks. Up next we’ll have a word with the new European Champion Tod DeKindes.

 

Edwin: Hopefully they’ll have this mess cleaned up by the time we get back from commercial break.  There is blood and glass everywhere.  It looks like the set of the first Die Hard.

[Guest Muzz]

Some drunks break into a “show your tits” chant at Axis.  Axis nervously slumps into his chair.

Alright, I see what Gade means.

[Guest Ace309]

Danny, excellent losing match, aside from the fact that I noticed a few pins broken by a foot on the ropes... in a hardcore match... anyways.

 

Excellent show, all in all. I think the feud between myself and Ash is really starting to develop nicely. Some nice heat going up, and Xero's getting himself involved as well.

 

Great promo from the TNT Connection.

 

Hopefully, now that Ced's out of bed and able to write again, he'll be ready to go.

 

The two Shane Douglases are looking really interesting... I like their work, aside from the standard gripe that Mak Francis claims to be 'the future of freestyle wrestling' but apparently doesn't know how to wrestle it. But that's just the Grecohead in me.

 

Great match out of Frost to win the hardcore match, with excellent development throughout.

 

Scott Reid, Destructication Incorporated. Very, very nice.

 

Thank you, that is all.

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

Axis: “Uh oh. She’s in deep granola now! Taylor makes the cover!”

Kivell: “One! Two!”

Edwin: “Jiminy Cricket! Sydney kicks out at the 2/3 mark!”

King: “Jiminy Cricket? What is this, the ‘Micky Mouse Club?’ While we’re at it, why not all name ourselves after the 7 dwarves?”

Edwin: “What a capital idea! Ok, I’m Doc, Axis is Grumpy, Kivell is Dopey, Sydney is Sleepy, Taylor is Happy, Funyon is Bashful, and King is Sneezy.”

King: “SNEEZY!? SNEEZY!? Why the hell am I Sneezy? I shouldn’t have to be Sneezy. I’m former SWF Champion! Former SML Champion! Former Argentinean Shuffleboard Champion!”

Edwin: “Ok, whatever you say Sneezy.”

King: “Edwin, I despise you with a sadistic enthusiasm.”

Edwin: “Snoochie boochies.”

 

With gems like that, it was really, really hard to not give TNT the win.  One of many reasons to read matches several times over.  We markers have it tough.

 

God, you guys are frickin' hilarious.

[Guest hhh6294]

I could get pissed off... but I'm just going to get even.

 

...so says the pipe.

[Guest redbaron51]

shit...i'm a dead man, from the pipe welder