Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted April 19, 2005 The shot cuts over and shows Suicide King and Longdogger Pete. Pete - Well, here we have relative newcomer to SWF… King – And soon to be resident jobber... Pete – Have you seen any of his past matches? King – Nope, and I don’t think I have any intentions of doing so in the near future. Pete – Anyway, newcomer Lord David, is going to take on Martin ‘Big Country’ Hunt here tonight. King – I’m gonna go make a phone call, I’ll be back after the boredom finishes. Pete – Sit back down! A guitar wails loudly through the arena at an amazingly high pitch, when a deeper guitar kicks in, the initial riff finishes and the drums kick in, and Lord David bursts through the curtain. Pete – and here he is. Lord David instantly begins head banging and air guitaring at the entrance, as “Word Up” by Gun plays loudly. King – What a goof. Ring Announcer – This match is for one fall, introducing first, in his debut match here in SWF, he weighs in at 140lbs and hails from London, England, he is Lord David! The lyrics start up, and Lord David begins singing away as he makes his way down the aisle. King – So he’s called a Lord, however he has no relation to anyone of royal blood, hasn’t been made a Lord, and he has worse dress sense than Tim Curry in The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I mean what is with that jacket? Pete – Will you stop pointing out the bad things about him? King – Sure. As soon as he stops giving me stuff to point out. He comes out here, wearing plain black jeans, a plain blue shirt, and a god-awful jacket, and I’m meant to try and respect this guy? Lord David jumps onto the apron, and then onto the outside of the middle turnbuckle, he proceeds to begin slapping his hands together, attempting to get the crowd to join in with the beat of the song. On camera we can see that one or two odd fans are doing so, but the rest just look on, waiting for something to happen. King – I see he brought his family along to cheer, all five of them. Pete – He’s still a relative unknown, I think the crowd will get into it once the match starts. King – Into what? Their popcorn? Lord David jumps over the ropes and into the ring as the music fades out. "A Country Boy Can Survive" plays by Hank Williams Jr as Martin "Big Country" Hunt struts out from behind the curtain proudly wearing his fraternity's letters, blue jeans, and boots that look fresh for kicking ass, while in his hand, he holds a baseball bat. King – At least this guy will beat the stuffing out of our so-called “Lord”. Pete – So how come you’re not attempting to get on his case about fashion sense? King – He doesn’t pretend to be a Lord, and he’s even brought a bat to use on our new guy. What more could you want? Ring Announcer – And his opponent, weighing in at 220lbs, and hailing from Boone, NC, he is Martin ‘Big Country’ Hunt! Martin Hunt smirks at the crowd and begins mocking a fan in the first row, before sliding underneath the bottom rope, Martin proceeds to place the bat in the corner of the ring, the music begins to die down, and the referee signals for the bell. King – Let the ass kicking commence! The two begin circling each other in the middle of the ring. Pete – Both men trying to get a feel for the other. King – Can’t Martin just put his boot in Lord David’s face and let it be over? They lock up, and almost instantly Martin uses his strength advantage to shove Lord David away, David rolls right back onto his feet and charges straight for Martin, who spins around to drill Lord David with a stiff back elbow, knocking the newcomer to the canvas. King – Oh that was beautiful! Not five seconds after they first lock up, Lord David’s on his ass. Lord David staggers back to his feet. Martin grabs a handful of David’s hair, and charges across the ring to nail him with a turnbuckle smash in the corner, then a second, a third, a fourth… Pete – That can’t feel good. King – ‘Nor should it. Martin continues driving Lord David’s head into the buckle, before spinning him around and beginning to fire in with stiff right hands onto Lord David’s jaw. King – This is great, I told you Lord David was going to be in and out of here. Lord David slumps in the corner, the ropes being the only things holding him up, Martin fires in a final right hand, before pulling him out of the corner, and whipping him towards the ropes, Lord David rebounds, and runs straight into a hard powerslam from Martin, who hooks the leg, 1..2.. Lord David gets a shoulder up! Pete – That was almost a quick match. King – Slow count, it had to have been. Martin pulls Lord David to his feet by the hair, and wrings his arm, before raising his free arm in the air, he yanks Lord David towards him, and goes for a short arm clothesline. Lord David ducks straight underneath the move, and is quick to dropkick Martin in the back, sending him forward and straight through the ropes to the floor. Pete – What a counter by Lord David! King – It was okay, I’ve seen better. Lord David looks up from the canvas, as Martin starts to pull himself up. Lord David stands up, and looks over at Martin, who’s holding the back of his head from the landing. David hits the ropes, and charges towards Martin, before nailing him with a baseball slide, which sends Martin straight into the barrier, as Lord David lands on his feet. Pete – Lord David managing to get the upper hand here. David pulls Martin up, and drives his head into the ring apron, before shoving the bigger man back into the ring. Lord David turns to the and pounds his chest while shouting out a “come on!” To try and get the crowd behind him, he slides back into the ring, and Martin stands up at the same time. The two lock up once again, and Martin’s strength allows him to get the upper hand with a headlock. King – I knew it wouldn’t last long. Martin drives a couple of hard fists into Lord David’s temple. David attempts to break the hold by driving some shots into Martin’s kidneys, but due to his lack of being able to get any force behind them, they don’t seem to do any damage. Martin stands up, and snaps David back into the canvas with a beautiful russian leg sweep. King – He can’t even punch properly. Who’s responsible for letting this idiot into SWF anyway? They should be fired! Martin makes a cover, and the referee drops to the canvas, 1..2.. kickout by Lord David! King – And someone speed that referee up, his batteries are dying out or something, that should have been it right there. Pete – Have you ever thought that Lord David may actually have some toughness in him? King – He wants some food in him, that’s what he wants, if he was any lighter he’d float away. Martin Hunt pulls David to his feet by the hair, despite the referee trying to stop him using the hair. He backs Lord David up into the ropes, and once again whips him across the ring, Martin ducks his head down for a back body drop as Lord David hits the ropes. David runs back, but ducks his own head down so that he can catch Martin’s, before jumping straight over him with a Drop The Bomb. King – What the hell was that? Pete – Drop The Bomb, high impact neckbreaker. Lord David rolls over, and places an arm across Martin’s chest and the referee drops to the canvas, 1..2.. Martin raises a shoulder! King – It’ll take more than a neckbreaker to keep Martin Hunt down. Lord David starts to pull himself to his feet using the ropes. Martin begins to stand up as well, and Lord David charges in with a clothesline, he rushes in with a second clothesline just as Martin stands up, Martin stands up once more and Lord David lands a third clothesline, Martin slowly pulls himself to his feet once more, and Lord David lands a fourth clothesline, before taking his jacket off and throwing it across the ring, the jacket landing on the top rope. King – He’s nuts! Pete – Psycho actually, but close enough. Lord David throws both hands up in the air, as some more of the crowd start to get behind him, Martin begins to get up, and Lord David drives a hard right hand into his jaw and attempts a whip to the ropes, Martin counters and David hits the ropes. Martin looks for a clothesline, but David slides straight underneath Martin’s legs with a baseball slide, tripping Martin over as he goes. David jumps to his feet quickly, and drops a leg across the back of Martin’s neck. Pete – That’s why he’s here! King – Because he can get lucky at times? Well now I know. David rolls Martin onto his back, and makes a lateral press, 1..2.. kickout! Pete – Strong kickout by Martin Hunt. King – You expected anything less? David stands up, as does Martin, Lord David hits the ropes and nails Martin with a hard spear, taking him down to the canvas with authority. Pete – Lord David could have it right there. King – You could say he has an ‘edge’ over Martin for the moment. Get it? ‘Edge’? Pete – If you ever do stand up comedy, make sure I’m not around for it. Lord David jumps to his feet, and quickly climbs to the top rope. Pete – Incoming! Lord David flies off the top rope with a Frog Splash, but Martin raises his knees, and all Lord David finds is a painful landing. King – I knew he’d do that! Martin rolls over to the ropes, and uses them to help pull himself to his feet, spotting Lord David’s shirt on the ropes as he does so, he pulls it from the top rope, as Lord David gets to his hands and knees, Martin stands over Lord David, and wraps the jacket around Lord David’s neck while sitting on his back, almost into a modified camel clutch. Pete – Now come on! That’s not right! King – He’s teaching this jobber a lesson. The referee tries to pull Martin’s hands from the shirt, but fails, and so begins a count, 1..2.. 3..4..Martin lets go of the shirt, and stomps on Lord David’s back. Pete – Blatant cheating there. King – He had a five count to release it, and he released it. Lord David chose to wear the jacket in the match, he can live with the consequences. Maybe they were kind and fair in the federations he’s been called a legend in, but here, if you’re stupid enough to wear a jacket in the ring, it’s going to be used against you. Lord David struggles to get to his feet, and Martin locks on a Black Out. King – That’s it! It’s over! Martin cinches the hold on, cutting off Lord David’s oxygen. King – He’s going to win this thing. Pete – Through cheating, that’s why! This isn’t right! Lord David looks to be fading as he searches for the ropes, with Martin holding him back. Lord David makes a final desperate attempt, and manages to jump and get his feet on the top turnbuckle, he pushes off and Martin lands on his back, shoulders on the canvas, but with the move still locked on, the referee drops to the canvas, 1..2.. Martin rolls over with the hold still on. But Lord David gets his feet in the ropes. Pete – He’s in the ropes, make him break the hold. The referee tells Martin to release the hold, which he refuses to, forcing the referee to start up a count again, 1..2..3..4..Martin releases the hold. Pete – I don’t like this one bit. Martin Hunt stands up and spits down at Lord David, before raising his arm in the air as the crowd boo’s loudly. Pete – And the crowd agree with me. King – What do they know? Martin shoves Lord David over the bottom rope, and places his knee onto David’s back, forcing David’s neck into the bottom rope. Pete – He should be disqualified. Once again the referee begins a count, 1..2.. 3..4.. Martin stands up and holds up his hands, and then places his knee back on Lord David’s back once again. The referee begins his count once more, 1..2.. 3..4.. Martin stands up again, and Lord David rolls over, coughing as he holds his throat. King – Poor guy’s fallen down, and he can’t get up. Martin pulls Lord David to his feet and shoves him into the corner, before drilling him with a stiff uppercut, he pulls Lord David out of the corner, and whips him across the ring to the ropes, Lord David runs back and Martin lifts him straight in the air for a press slam. King – Watch for the impact! Martin holds David up there for a moment, and Lord David manages to shift his weight, he comes down in front of Martin and rolls him up into a pin, 1..2.. kickout! Pete – That was almost a shock there. Martin and Lord David both stand up, Martin looks pissed and charges in for a clothesline, but Lord David manages to hit a front dropkick into the chest of Martin, taking him off his feet, Martin gets up quickly though, and is taken back down with an arm drag, both men get to their feet and Lord David hits a hurricanrana on Martin, sending Martin across the ring. Pete – David’s got himself a second wind here. Lord David stands up, and uses the ropes to hold himself up for a moment, as Martin slowly gets to his feet. Martin walks over towards Lord David, and gets a kick in the gut for his troubles, David shoves Martin’s head between his legs, and grabs the back of Martin’s knees. Martin, however, stands up with Lord David on his back. King – Oh dear, poor guy, I think we’re about to get rid of our most recent jobber. Martin uses his own shoulders as a kind of pivot, and drives Lord David into the canvas with a hellacious spinebuster. Pete – He could have just broken Lord David’s back in two. King – We can only hope. Martin makes a cover, 1..2.. Lord David raises a shoulder! King – That had to be a slow count! Pete – I see nothing wrong with his count, it’s clean and fair all the way through. Martin looks down at Lord David as he stands up, and proceeds to grab the baseball bat from the corner of the ring, he raises it above his head as the referee tells him to put it down, Martin ignores the referee and brings the bat down, just missing Lord David as he rolls to the side and to his feet, Martin swings the bat horizontally, aiming for David’s head, but Lord David ducks underneath and kicks Martin in the gut, forcing him to drop the bat, which the referee kicks to the outside of the ring. Martin doubles over and David drops him with a desperate DDT. Pete – Both men are down! King – It’s a shame, Lord David should be out cold from that baseball bat right now. Pete – But then Martin Hunt would have been disqualified. King – And it wouldn’t have mattered, as he could have put this fake out of the ring for good. The referee begins a count, as both men are down and don’t seem to be getting up any time soon, 1..2.. 3.. Lord David begins to move, followed closely by Martin Hunt, 4..5.. Lord David throws an arm over Martin, 1..2.. Martin lifts a shoulder! Pete – This is getting close. King – If Martin kicking Lord David’s ass, and Lord David getting lucky is close, then it’s amazingly close. Lord David locks a reverse chinlock on Martin, trying to force Martin to either submit or pass out. But Martin’s having none of it, and begins to stand up, he drives an elbow into Lord David’s gut, and a second, and a third, before changing his stance to lift Lord David onto his shoulder, Martin shoves Lord David’s legs upwards, sending David clean over his shoulder, and into a face first drop on the canvas. Pete – That can’t feel good. Martin grabs David by the hair, and just yanks him to his feet, and proceeds to set him up for a Sweet Southern Comfort. King – And here we go, the end of the match, and the end of Lord David’s SWF career! Lord David isn’t having it though, and jumps, launching himself straight over Martin’s shoulder, he waistlock’s Martin, and somehow manages to land a german suplex, albeit with next to no impact, Lord David bridges, 1.. 2.. kickout! King – He’s not going to get a pinfall with that… Both men begin standing up, Lord David kicks Martin hard in the gut, and proceeds to set him up for a pump handle slam. Pete – Lord’s Slam! King – What? Lord David stands up slightly, still holding the move on, and lifts Martin up over his shoulder and into a back suplex, he releases the arm of Martin, and hooks his hands together as he brings Martin down to the canvas, David bridges and the referee drops down, 1..2..3! Pete – That! King – How did he… he won? How?! Martin should have had that! Pete – With an amazing Lord’s Slam to win, that’s how he did it! Ring Announcer – The winner of the match, Lord David! King – I can’t believe it… I just can’t believe it! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted April 19, 2005 Wildchild conducts his usual stretches in the locker room as he prepares for their title defense against Martial Law, although it is clear that his mind is preoccupied. As he nears the end of his routine, his tag team partner Johnny Dangerous steps around the corner, boots in hand, and sits down to lace them up. “Hey man,” begins Wildchild, glaring harshly at his best friend, “how come you haven’t had my back de last few weeks? When you were getting attacked, I came out t’help you, but when Rev-Zero is beating me down wit ladders an’ t’ings, I can’t get no support from my tag team partner? I know you’re frustrated about not getting de big title shots, but what does it have t’do wit me?” Johnny sighs loudly. “I’m sorry, ‘Nic; I know I’ve had a lot on my mind, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want another shot at the Heavyweight Title, but you know that I’ll always have your back, right? We’re going out there to defend this,” he says, pausing to pat his half of the World Tag Team Championship, “and right now, my focus is on this and this alone!” Wildchild looks unconvinced, but his expression softens somewhat. “Well, if you want t’show dat you’re focused on de Tag Titles tonight, how ‘bout we leave our singles titles in de locker room tonight?” Johnny looks at him skeptically. “Are you serious? How is that going to show that we’re focused?” “Easy,” replies Wildchild. “When we come down to the ring wit only our Tag Titles, dat shows dat nothing else is on our minds; dat we’re not distracted by what we’re doin’ as individuals, an’ only worried about de team!” “Well,” says Johnny unsurely, “I’m not sold on that, myself, but if it’ll make you happy, consider it done!” “Thanks,” says Wildchild, finally smiling again. “Now, I have jus’ one more t’ing dat I need t’take care of before our match; I’ll be back in a minute!” With that, Wildchild grabs his title belts and heads out of the locker room… As we: FADE OUT Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted April 19, 2005 Koran/Sly Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted April 19, 2005 ATTENTION! ALL YOU NIGGAZ! ALL YOU BITCHES! TIME TO PUT DOWN THE CRISTAL, TIME TO TAKE OFF THE ICE FOR A MINUTE… TIME TO THROW A LITTLE MUD IN THIS MOTHERFUCKA… The Kiva Auditorium erupts as Redman’s “Let’s Get Dirty” begins to play, and the Bahama Bomber steps out onto the stage! “Ladies and Gentlemen,” booms Funyon, “please welcome one-half of the World Tag Team Champions, and the SWF World Cruiserweight Champion… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” Wildchild walks briskly down to the ring, barely even acknowledging the fans at ringside, and slides into the ring, stalking deliberately over to Funyon and demanding the microphone from him. “Looks like Wildchild has something on his mind,” says Longdogger Pete, as the Bahama Bomber gestures to the audio technicians to cut his music. “Let’s find out what it is!” “Pretzler!” BOOOOOOOOO! “Scott Pretzler,” shouts Wildchild, “I showed you de respect you had earned before I beat you for dis!” Wildchild pauses to hold the World Cruiserweight Championship above his head before continuing. “I don’ care for you much as a person, but I’ll give you credit for bein’ a damned good wrestler! I would have given you a rematch if you’d had de class t’be patient an’ wait your turn, but you had t’attack me from behind! You wan’ t’hit me wit a ladder?” “Uh-oh,” moans Pete. “I think I know where this is going!” “Well,” screams Wildchild, “since you’re in such a hurry t’get beat again, let’s do it at Battleground!” RAAAAAAAAAAH! “Dat’s right,” continues Wildchild, “you an’ me. At Battleground. For de Worl’ Cruiserweight Title… “IN A LADDER MATCH!” RAAAAAAAAAAH! “A ladder match!” shouts Pete. “You heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen!” “Come on wit’ it, Pretzler,” growls the Caribbean Cruiser. “I’ll bring de belt; all you have to do is bring your bitch ass…” RAAAAAAAAAAH! “An’ I will put you down.. For. GOOD!” With that, “Let’s Get Dirty” begins to play again, as Wildchild drops the microphone and walks out of the ring. “Well there you have it, folks,” says LDP. “Wildchild has issued the challenge to Scott Pretzler; a ladder match for the World Cruiserweight Title! Will he accept? Stay tuned for more action!” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted April 19, 2005 We come back to the Kiva Auditorium in Albuquerque, New Mexico. In front of a Smarkdown back drop stands Ben Hardy, microphone already in his hand. “We are here waiting for Arch Griffon to give us a few words before his tag match tonight. Much talk has been made about his upcoming bar room brawl with rival Muhammed Koran,” says Hardy. Coming into the screen is Griffon, his side to the camera. He is already prepared for his match, his pale skin glowing with perspiration. He comes in from the right side, abruptly stops, showing off his profile, and then takes a quick left turn into the camera. Now he stands on the side of Hardy, dwarfing the small reporter. “Archibald Griffon, tonight you are teaming up with Manson once again to take on Scott Pretzler and JJ Johnson of Revolution Zero. What is your outlook on the match?” quizzes Ben. “Well Ben,” Archie pauses for a moment, and then continues. “Manson and I are going up against quite a challenge tonight against Revolution Zero. Both men may not have the size that Manson and I have, but they are skillful, and not ashamed to fight cowardly. We will win tonight, because I believe Manson and I don’t have ego problems inside of the ring. We just want to win, baby,” Archie says. He chuckles after the end of his monologue and looks back at Hardy. After he pushes up his glasses, Ben continues, “Six days from tonight, it will be you, and Muhammad Koran duking it out in a barroom. “How are you preparing for the match?” Hardy asks. “I am going to prepare for this match like I would if I was going to fight someone in a bar. I will wear a t-shirt, bring my smokes, wear a pair of jeans, wear some kicks, have a few Godfathers, and then go for the eyes and make them fill with blood!” Griffon raves. The camera pans back to Hardy, who has obviously been disturbed by Griffon’s words. Hardy’s hand doesn’t move to Griffon’s face, so Arch helps Ben along by softly grasping onto his forearm. “There is no cutting weight for this match. There is no tape watching. There is nothing to do except for me to unleash the rage that Koran has brought up inside of me after calling me out in front of the world. He made a mistake, and he will deal with it,” Arch calmly concludes. “Thank you for your time, Arch.” Ben finishes, almost stumbling through his words. Griffon gives Ben a nod, takes another left turn, and comes back from where he came from Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted April 19, 2005 (edited) "Welcome back to Smarkdown here at the Kiva Auditorium!" announces Longdogger Pete, amongst thousands of screaming fans. "Just now we had Mohammed Koran facing Austin Sly in a Grudge Match, and now in action are the two men who defeated them on Lockdown, Arch Griffon and Manson!" "Ah, but that was child's play compared to the challenge they face tonight, as they face Revolution Zero's JJ Johnson and Scott Pretzler. Johnson defeated Manson in his second match a short time ago," Suicide King adds. "It's not as if Johnson and Pretzler have been working together for very long either," counters LDP. "If I’m not mistaken, this is their first match together." "I assure you," King begins, "Pretzler and Johnson have spent long hours sparring and training since coming together, while Manson and Griffon haven't had that luxury, nor do they have a motivator like Toxxic behind them." "Whatever, we'll get this match started, and then we'll see how easily the axe slices through the meat!" shouts Pete. We pan over to the stage, where the SmarkTron whites out, as every light in the arena ramps up to full power. For a moment all that can be heard is the faint scratch of a needle on vinyl of a needle on vinyl, when suddenly… "WEL-WEL-W-W-WELCOME TO THE REVOLUTION!" A deep voice booms out over the arena as the brutal guitars of Otep's "Battle Ready" kicks up over the PA system. After a few seconds the drums come in, and that's when… *BOOOOMM!! * Jolts of lightning shoot down from the heavens and strike the stage, blasts of red pyro firing up in response! For a moment all that can be seen is the smoke left over from the explosion, but then "The Critic" Scott Pretzler and the newest Revolution Zero member JJ Johnson stride out, glaring at the crowd who respond with a less than friendly reception. The full house boos and jeers the two as they stop at the head of the ramp, Pretzler standing with his hands on his hips, smugly looking out toward the crowd, as Johnson, in a long white and red robe stretches his arms out in a crucifix. "Ladies and Gentlemen," Funyon announces, "the following is a Tag Team Match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, at a combined weight of four-hundred and forty five pounds, and representing Revolution Zero… J… J… JOOOHHNNNSOONN and "THE CRITIC" SSCOOOTTTT PREEETZLEERRRRR!" The two individuals near the ring and turn the corner, with Pretzler heading up the stairs with his head held high, followed by Johnson, who throws his hood back and heads up as well. Johnson enters and heads down to the lower right corner and ascends the turnbuckle, holding his arms out in another crucifix, as Pretzler heads up the turnbuckle on the opposite side and raises his arms, garnering another chorus of boos from the crowd. Both climb down and Pretzler meets Johnson in their corner, with Matt Kivell checking them out as they do so, when "Battle Ready" fades out and the lights drop. Red strobes begin pulsing and flashing as the buzz in the arena rises, when Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer" blasts from the speakers! Moments later, Manson and Arch Griffon emerges to the roar of the fans, bursts of blinding white pyro exploding on each side of the stage! “And their opponents, at a combined weight of five-hundred and forty two pounds, ARCH GRIIIFONN AND MMMAAAANNNNSOONNNN!" booms Funyon once more, as Manson and Griffon continue down the ramp, with Manson throwing up the horns in stride. Manson and Griffon enter the ring under the bottom rope and quickly pop back up to their feet, keeping a watchful eye on their opponents across the ring. Just like before, Kivell checks them out as well, as Funyon exits the ring. Deciding everything is as it should be, Kivell gives a nod to the timekeeper, who strikes the bell… *DING DING!* "Jesus," LDP says, "it's surely due to Griffon, but he and Manson outweigh Revolution Zero by one-hundred pounds! Their size and strength in comparison to them is just awesome." "Yeah, but speed and technical ability can often bring down the biggest guys, and Pretzler and Johnson have that in spades," King counters. "If only they still had Sean Davis," adds an insincere LDP. Pretzler and Griffon each take their positions on the apron, as Johnson finishes undoing his robe, and hands it to an attendant. As usual, Manson and JJ dance around the ring to start things off, before coming together in the old collar-elbow. Before the bigger, stronger Manson can push him back, the spry Johnson throws him down on the mat with an armdrag. Manson bounces back up to his feet and charges at Johnson, as Raging Bulls are prone to do, and tries for a clothesline, but Johnson remains light on his feet and easily ducks the attempt. Johnson follows up with an array of jabs and punches on Manson in the corner, but Manson manages to block one of the shots, and gets in a few of his own, succeeding in pushing Johnson back, and with one good punch, knocking him down to the ground. "For all of Johnson's MMA training, in a brawl Manson will still come out on top," comments LDP. "He's nearly unmatched in his ability here." "Even I'll admit that much, which is why Johnson has to rely on his submissions and speed." Johnson comes back up, met by Manson who hits him with a chop and gets the customary "WHOOO!" from the crowd. Johnson is sent back, and Manson hits yet another chop, followed by a right hook to the face, driving him back to the lower left hand corner. Manson grabs him by the wrist and flings him across the ring with an Irish whip, but Johnson holds on and reverses, sending Manson to the opposite corner. Johnson heads in after him, and jumps into the air, looking for the running elbow smash, but Manson ducks out of the way. Johnson is able to land on the second rope, and Manson is quickly on him, hitting a forearm off the back. Manson wraps his arms around Johnson and drags him down off the rope, then tries to lift, but Johnson sandbags him. Manson releases JJ for a spell, hitting more forearms, then locking him around the waist once more. Manson grunts and lifts Johnson, planting him with a German suplex! Manson bridges into the cover, but Johnson immediately kicks out. "Manson with the bridging German, but Johnson doesn't give Kivell a chance to count, as he kicks out early," Pete says. Manson stands and pulls Johnson up with him, dragging him by the back of his neck over to Manson's own corner, where he tags in Arch Griffon! Griffon enters to a pop, hitting Johnson with a kick to the stomach, doubling him over. Griffon follows that up with a nasty running knee to the side of the head, knocking JJ down to the mat. Johnson stands slowly, holding the side of his head, as Griffon places him in a standing headscissors, already going for the Arch Nemesis as a concerned Pretzler looks on! However, JJ blocks Griffon as he tries to lift him up for the piledriver, and as Griffon tries a second time, Johnson uses the momentum to pull himself onto Griffon's shoulders. JJ then snaps back and takes Griffon with him into a headscissors takeover! Both hit the mat, and Johnson already begins making his way toward his corner. "A headscissors to counter the Arch Nemesis and here goes Johnson, trying to make a tag," comments LDP. "There was very little chance of him hitting it this early, especially on someone as talented and resourceful as Johnson, and now it cost him," sayeth a snide Suicide King, as Griffon gets to his feet, and begins going after Johnson. Griffon nearly reaches him, but is just a second too late, as Johnson lunges and connects with Pretzler! "Pretzler is in the match!" screams Pete, as The Critic comes in and hits Griffon with a kick to the stomach. Griffon is hardly fazed, and Pretzler hits a European uppercut. Griffon's head snaps back, as Scott next hits a chop to the chest, which of course gets the "WHOOO!" from the fans. Griffon stumbles back further and finds himself pinned against the far camera side ropes, as Pretzler grabs him by the head, wrapping his arms around Griffon's neck and locking in a side headlock. But Griffon is just too big and strong, and the massive man shoves him off, toward the opposite side ropes. Pretzler comes back and Griffon hits a powerful shoulderblock, knocking him down to the mat. "Big knockdown by Griffon!" Pete shouts. Running toward the right hand side ropes; Griffon bounces off, jumping over Pretzler who stays low, laying flat on his stomach. Griffon hits the opposite side of the ring, where Manson blind tags him. Griffon runs into a surprise armdrag by Pretzler, who transitions into an armbar, complete with a knee in the ribs, but Manson then enters the ring and hits him with a forearm high on the back, forcing him to release Griffon. Griffon gets to his feet and pulls Pretzler into his grasp, then lifts and drops him across his knee with a backbreaker. In the meantime, Manson steps onto the second turnbuckle of the lower left hand corner, and with Pretzler in position, Manson jumps off, hitting a leg drop across his throat! Pretzler clutches his neck and rolls on the mat in agony, as Manson goes for a pin and Griffon makes his way toward his corner. "A backbreaker-second rope legdrop combination by the team of Griffon and Manson, and here's the cover!" LDP screams, as Kivell begins counting. ONE! TW-NO! "KICKOUT!" Pete says, as Manson pulls Pretzler up to his feet and hits an elbow smash to the face. Manson hits another elbow, following that up with a knee to the stomach, causing Pretzler to stumble back toward the near camera side ropes before going down to a knee. Manson pulls Pretzler back up and grabs him by the wrist, intending to whip him across the ring. However, Pretzler keeps a white knuckle grip on the ropes, forcing Manson to deliver another knee to the stomach, again bringing Pretzler down. Manson then brings a leg up and delivers a short knee to Pretzler's face, knocking him into the ropes, and nearly out of the ring. Pretzler slowly but surely pulls himself up with the ropes, and Manson grabs him by the wrist again, this time succeeding in whipping him across the ring. Pretzler bounces off the opposite side ropes, and Manson awaits him in the center of the ring, grabbing him around the chest, under the arms, and hoisting him up, then pivoting and planting him on the mat with a side belly to belly suplex and going into a cover! ONE! TWO!! "JJ broke it up!" Pete screams, as Johnson delivers a stomp to Manson and retreats back to his corner. "I hate to admit it, but at this rate, Revolution Zero is on borrowed time," King says, sighing to himself. Manson pulls Pretzler up with him and goes over to his corner, where he tags in Griffon, but not before a kick to the gut, doubling Pretzler over, and a knee lift to the face, knocking him on his back. Griffon brings Pretzler up to his feet, and Pretzler hits a chop to the chest, looking to rally back for his team, but Griffon cuts him off with a big right hand, sending him back. Scott goes down to a knee, but bounces back up right away, and lands a kick to the stomach, followed by an elbow smash to the face, then many more in rapid succession, taking Griffon off balance. Taking advantage, Pretzler wraps an arm around Griffon's head and takes him down with a DDT. Griffon bounces off the mat face first, and Pretzler quickly crawls over to Johnson and tags him in. "Pretzler finally tags back out, after taking some heavy punishment at the hands of Griffon and Manson," Pete says. "Hopefully Johnson can find a way to work his speed into this, because what they're doing isn't working so far." Griffon begins to get up to his feet, but Johnson puts a stop to that with a kick to the side of the head, knocking him back down on the mat. Johnson and Pretzler quickly take advantage, as they deliver numerous stomps to Griffon, until Kivell finally forces Pretzler out of the ring. “Not very legal, but very effective double teaming from Revolution Zero,” says a concerned Pete. Johnson continues to stomp away at Archie, as Griffon slowly rises to his feet. JJ grasps onto Griffon’s wrist, and backs him up to the far right side of the ring. He goes for an Irish whip, by Griffon reverses. Johnson comes off the ropes, and ducks a hissing clothesline. The speedy Johnson comes back off the other set of ropes. JJ slams Griffon in the jaw with a Yakuza Kick! “Johnson uses his exception speed to lay Griffon out with that Yakuza Kick,” reports Pete. “If these two men want to defeat Archie and Manson, they need to use their speed and agility. I like what I see,” says King, as Johnson goes for the cover on Griffon. Referee Kivell slides into position. ONE! TWO! TH-NO! “And Griffon kicks out,” says Pete. Johnson stays focused and delivers stomps into Arch’s midsection. Slowly, JJ peels his foe off of the mat and backs him into the corner. After a quick boot to the stomach, Johnson spins around, and catches Griffon in the jaw with his Roundhouse Kick! Griffon slumps over in the corner. “Griffon is in no man’s land. I am sure he doesn’t like the fact that a fresh Scott Pretzler stands behind him,” says King. With his opponent subdued for a moment, JJ speeds over to the opposite corner, and slugs Manson. The Raging Bull absorbs it, and then charges into the ring. Mathew Kivell quickly cuts off Manson, and slowly escorts him back to his corner. “Trouble is afoot, King,” Pete tells his partner. “No, just good strategy,” King answers back. Taking a hold of his tag rope, he reaches around and tugs it around Griffon’s neck! “BOO!!” “C’mon, ref! Get in there,” yells Pete. Arch gasps for air and frantically claws at the white nylon rope fastened around his throat. The jeers from the crowd raise a new level of hostility as Johnson goes to work on Griffon’s left knee. He starts off with a few well placed kicks to the big man’s kneecap. Meanwhile, Manson finally starts to calm and get back to his tag rope. “Bulls are dumb, and irrational creatures,” chuckles King. Pretzler eyes the referee. As Kivell turns back towards the action, Scott quickly lets the tag rope go. A deep red abrasion is left on Griffon’s neck, and his face a light shade of purple. Johnson delivers a crunching forearm to Archie’s jaw, rocking his head back. After doing this, JJ picks up Archie’s left leg, and puts the hook of his left boot into the middle rope. With Arch’s knee already bent, Johnson grabs the top rope, leaps up, and curls up his right leg. He comes down right into Griffon’s knee! Arch screams in pain and crumbles to the mat, grasping his knee. “A dastardly double team from Pretzler and Johnson,” says Pete. JJ connects with a soccer kick to the ribs. “That’s the way you do it! Kick ‘em when their down,” says an approving King. Johnson and The Critic share a casual tag, and actually give each other a smile like it’s the end of a buddy cop show episode. “Some confidence shown here by Johnson and Pretzler,” says Pete. On the other side of the ring, Manson nearly tears the tag rope out of the corner, as he paces back and forth. “WE WANT MANSON!” “They want to see the Raging Bull,” exclaims Pete. “That’s nice. However, the fans should realize that in this case, Revolution Zero are friggin matadors,” says the poetic King. Back in the middle of the ring, The Critic drags Griffon off the mat. Scott quickly delivers a sharp European uppercut to Griffon’s jaw. Griffon backpedals into the near corner. He falls to the seat of his pants after his knee folds on him. Pretzler chuckles at Griffon’s situation. As Scott approaches the corner, Griffon swings down with a fist and nails Scott right in the foot. The pain jolts the smaller man, and he hobbles to the middle of the ring. The crowd cheers as Griffon climbs to his feet with assistance from the corner and takes a deep breath. He advances over to Pretzler and nails him with a punch. Pretzler’s head snaps back. Scott comes back with a right hand of his own. Griffon catches the fist in his baseball mitt of his a hand, stopping the punch. Griffon then slides his hand to The Critic’s wrist, and takes hold, then hits him with a short armed clothesline. But, Griffon doesn’t let go, and drags the woozy Scott to his feet. Griffon hits the smaller man with another clothesline! “Arch has just placed Pretzler in Griffon’s grasp! Pretzler is in trouble,” bellows Pete. “These aren’t the same clothesline’s we have seen before. Griffon’s knee troubles have taken some of the luster out of these clotheslines,” says King. Griffon drags Scott to his feet again. Before he can hit Scott with another clothesline, Pretzler drops down and hits Griffon’s injured knee with a dropkick! Arch lets go of Scott, and both men fall to the mat! “Do you find it funny how Griffon is the one who gets his knee worked on, while Manson wears that heavy knee brace,” Pete asks King. “Everyone knows he doesn’t need the knee brace anyways. It is rather humorous, though,” King answers Pete. “WE WANT MANSON!” The crowd continues to roar as both Pretzler and Griffin crawl to their respective corners. The Critic tags out first. Johnson sprints across the ring, and hits a sliding elbow drop on Griffon, putting a halt to his progress. “It is now apparent that Griffon’s knee is going to be a deciding factor in this math,” says Pete. Manson curses humanity in the corner, as Johnson goes back to work. The crowd voices it’s displeasure as JJ picks up Arch, and immediately puts on a rear waistlock. Arch throws a few back elbows, but Johnson ducks down, dodging them. Finally, Griffon reaches down and pries the Hardcore Champ’s hands off of him. Griffon then hobbles behind Johnson, and puts on a waistlock of his own. Using tremendous power in his back, Griffon lifts up Johnson and tosses him behind his head. JJ floats in the air. JJ lands on his feet behind Griffon, and then quickly dives forward. He drives his shoulder into the back of Archie’s left knee! Griffon goes down after the malicious Chop Block! “Brilliant! Great counter by Johnson,” King yells. “This is it for Griffon. He is in tremendous pain,” observes Pete. JJ, not wasting any time, advances back over to Arch’s knee, and drags him to the right side of the ring, away from Manson and towards Pretzler. He then switches attention to the right leg, grabbing it. Quickly, Johnson spins around, and puts on a Figure Four Leglock! Pretzler drops from the apron and to the floor. He stands on the outside, looking at JJ. Griffon screams like a Roman Gladiator getting gutted by a lion. “Trouble is brewing,” says Pete. Mathew Kivell stays with Griffon on the mat, asking if he gives up. Arch keeps shaking his head no. Seeing this, Scott and JJ grasp hand and put more pressure on Griffon’s left knee. Kivell can’t help but notice the renewed vigor in Griffon’s yells, and looks towards the outside of the ring, where Pretzler stands. He shrugs his shoulder. “That sly dog, Pretzler,” chimes Pete. Kivell turns his back to Pretzler once more, and JJ and Scott lock hands. Kivell sees Archie freaking out again, and this time is quick to charge over to the ropes, and catches Revolution Zero in the act. Kivell kicks their hands loose. “There you go, Mathew,” cheers on Pete. Now that the decks are even, Griffon makes a last ditch attempt to break out of the hold. He starts to slowly move side to side, and he picks up momentum. Johnson has trouble stopping all the weight rocking back and forth. Soon, Griffon is able to reverse the hold! The crowd cheers madly, as Griffon winces with effort, trying to give JJ a taste of pain. The attack is short lived, however, as JJ grabs on to the ropes! “Sure, Griffon has escaped, but what about two minutes from now? What about a week from now at Battleground?” King realizes. Johnson is the first back to his feet, and is infuriated at Griffon. Scott Pretzler now stands in the corner, asking for a tag. JJ will have no part of it. Johnson drags Arch to his feet and then immediately backs him into the ropes. He then attempts to Irish whip Griffon across the ring, but Archie uses power from his right leg to reverse. Griffon waits while JJ blazes off of the far ropes, and comes back. He tries to knock Griffon’s head off with a clothesline, but Archie ducks out of the way. JJ comes back again, but Arch is waiting for him. Archie picks him up with both arms, spins on his right leg, and drives Johnson to the mat with a Twisting Spinebuster! “Spinebuster on Johnson! Griffon has to make the tag,” Pete frantically screams. The arena gets very excited. Both men lay in the middle of the ring. Griffon slowly crawls towards Manson, as does Johnson for Pretzler. “WE WANT MANSON!” The arena claps in unison, as both Pretzler and Manson contort and stretch their bodies, looking for the tag. Griffon and Johnson are almost neck and neck in their race. Johnson has a glazed look in his eyes, as Arch scowls, dragging his left leg behind him. Griffon is first to his corner, and makes the hot tag to The Raging Bull! “RAH!!” “And the fresh Manson is in! The Raging Bull is running,” says Pete. “Ah…shit,” curses King. The crowd roars in glee, as Manson charges into the ring, and makes a direct line for the unsuspecting Critic. Manson flies into the corner and nails Scott with a forearm blow, knocking Scott hard to the floor. The crowd goes bat shit then, as Manson starts to stomp away at JJ. Then, Manson picks Johnson up to his feet, and whips him into the far ropes, next to Griffon, who sits in the corner of the ring, need able to stand. The woozy Johnson comes back to the middle of the ring, where the charging Manson is approaching. The Raging Bull unleashes a devastating STO on Johnson, driving him hard into the mat! Manson quickly puts on a cover. ONE! TWO!! THRE-NO!!! The jammed packed arena exhales at the exactly the same time, almost giving each other carbon dioxide poisoning. Manson can’t believe it, but before he can get to Kivell, the referee is in the corner imploring Arch to get out of the ring. As Manson looks on confused, a desperate Johnson sneaks up behind him and rockets his arm up between The Raging Bull’s leg, and takes him down with a low blow. “Smart, underhanded move there by the Hardcore Champion,” applauds King. Kivell doesn’t see the low blow, as he moves back towards the center of the ring. Johnson is out of it on his feet, but still manages to pick up Manson. He immediately puts Manson in a standing head scissors. He signals to the angry fans for a Piledriver. He walks Manson over to the center of the ring, and then attempts to pick the bigger man up, but Manson resists. The Raging Bull instead picks up his opponent over his head. Manson holds him for a minute, and then throws JJ back to his feet. Johnson, confused, doesn’t have time to block his stomach as Manson lets loose with a kick to the gut. JJ doubles over, and in one swift, yet pretty uncoordinated motion, grabs the back of JJ’s head, leaps, swings his body through, and drops Johnson with Consequences! The crowd explodes and gives off a sound of awe, as Johnson flops around like a fish out of water, and then winds up sprawled out on his back. Still tending to his mid section after Johnson’s low blow, he throws himself on top of Johnson, doing the best he can do. “Consequences! Manson and Griffon are going to defeat Revolution Zero,” Pete yells at the top of his lungs. “Not of Pretzler has anything to say about it,” Riley says. Kivell gets into position, as a rejuvenated Pretzler climbs back into the ring. Griffon, still down in the corner, can see the scene unfolding in front of him. Manson is on top of Johnson. Kivell is down at Johnson’s shoulders. They make a line dissecting the ring. Of course, there is the desperate Pretzler, trying to make the save. Griffon grabs the ropes nearby and quickly gets to his feet. He then hobbles to the middle of the ring. ONE! Right before he steps on Johnson, Griffon plants his right foot, and leaps into the air. Pretzler is just a second away from Manson. TWO!! Pretzler tries to dodge the majestic flight of Griffon. Archie winds up floating over The Critic, but is able to latch onto Scott’s left hip and right leg. Griffon spins, and takes Pretzler down to the mat! THREE!!! “NO! God damned Griffon!” King yells. The arena explodes with cheers, as Griffon and Manson take down Revolution Zero. “Your winners of the match, ARCH GRIIIFONN AND MMMAAAANNNNSOONNNN!” booms Funyon once again. Mastodon’s “Crusher Destroyer” blasts high into the heavens, as Manson climbs up to his feet. He walks over to Griffon, and helps him to his feet. The two prop each other up by their shoulders, look out into the stands, and give their own metal horns to the fans. “RAH!” The fans put up metal horns of their own. The two then walk out together, Griffon struggling to walk, but Manson making he sure he can walk out. Meanwhile, Revolution Zero talk in the ring, wondering what went wrong. “Griffon is not going to be ready for Koran on Sunday,” King says. “Oh he’ll be ready. Stay tuned folks. Tonight we decide who faces World Champion Toxxic this Sunday at Battleground,” Pete says as SWF Smarkdown fades to commercials. <FADE OUT> Edited April 20, 2005 by Justice Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted April 19, 2005 FADE IN “It’s time for the first half of our double-main event!” says an excited Longdogger Pete. “Wild and Dangerous teams back up for the first time in over a month to defend the Tag Team Titles against Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez of Martial Law!” “With all the upheaval in the tag team division over the past several months, Martial Law has emerged as the last team standing,” says the Suicide King. “You have to believe that they’re more than a little frustrated with Wild and Dangerous making their grand comeback, just weeks after they formed, and taking all the opportunities that should have been theirs!” “It was only a few months ago,” adds Pete, “that Landon Maddix, Todd Cortez, Alan Clark and Mak Francis banded together in order to fight against Revolution Zero. They were poised to be the next Superpower in the SWF, and on track to collect quite a bit of championship gold!” “And then,” chimes in King, “in out of nowhere, swoop Wild and Dangerous, stealing all the opportunities that Martial Law think should have rightfully been theirs!” “No question about it,” agrees Pete. “All of the momentum that seemed to be working in favor of Martial Law was shifted to Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous, and now Martial Law is out to prove that those opportunities should have been theirs all along, by taking those championship belts from the Tag Team Champions!” “It’s possible, but I have to think that momentum favors Wild and Dangerous right now,” replies King. “The Tag Team Champions haven’t teamed together in recent weeks, but neither have Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez. And as far as singles competition goes, Wildchild and Johnny have been much more successful.” “I think you forget, King,” says LDP, “that Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez teamed up just a couple of weeks ago on Storm.” “Well,” counters King, “while you’re on the subject of refreshing my memory, Drain-Clogger, why don’t you remind me how that match turned out for them?” “Well,” stammers Pete,” that’s not important. What matters is that you said that they haven’t teamed together, and even in a loss, they managed to develop some continuity. The only question is whether or not that continuity will be sufficient to overcome the Tag Team Champions.” “Well, Wild and Dangerous don’t appear to have been on the same page lately,” says King, “but I’ve become impressed with Johnny’s attitude in recent weeks; he’s decided that he’s tired of standing around and waiting for things to happen for him, and to go out and make them happen! As long as Wildchild shows that he’s smart enough to let Johnny take the initiative, they have a good chance to retain!” “And let’s not forget that Wild and Dangerous are coming into this match with a slight mental advantage, as a result of Wildchild’s win over Landon Maddix last week on Lockdown,” says Pete. “It’s definitely going to be a tremendous confrontation, so let’s get right to the action!” With that, the camera shifts to ring announcer Funyon in the center of the ring, who raises the microphone to his lips as he says, “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest, scheduled for one fall, is for the SWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP!” Suddenly, the lights fall in the Kiva Auditorium, earning a loud cheer from the fans: RAAAAAAAAAH! The Albuquerque fans come alive as “Save Yourself” begins to play. A series of pyrotechnic explosions light up the stage as Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez step from behind the curtain, with Megan Skye right behind them! “Introducing first,” says Funyon, “the challengers! Being accompanied to the ring by their manager Megan Skye, at a total combined weight of four hundred forty-six pounds, here are Landon ‘La Cucaracha’ Maddix and ‘Urban Legend’ Todd Cortez, and they represent… MARTIAL LAAAAW!” Maddix and Cortez arrive at ringside and slide underneath the bottom rope before rising to their feet and racing to opposing corners, leaping onto the turnbuckles as the fans give them their vocal support: RAAAAAAAAAAH! “How about Martial Law,” shouts Pete. “Do they look ready or what?” “They look ready,” concedes King, “and we both know that they’re not above, shall we say, bending the rules, slightly. But whether or not that’s going to be enough to get past the continuity of Wild and Dangerous is another story!” Longdogger looks at him sideways. “Hey King, since when did you become such a big Wild and Dangerous backer, anyhow?” “I wouldn’t say that I’m a Wild and Dangerous supporter, per se,” replies King, as “Save Yourself” fades into the ethereal. “I mean, given the chance, I’d still push Wildchild under a bus, if I thought I could get away with it. But, I’ve been impressed with Johnny Dangerous’ attitude lately; it seems as though he may have finally figured out that what he needs to do to be successful is to look out for number one, and not worry about these idiot fans!” “That’s a horrible attitude!” cries Pete. “He’s had the support of the fans and his tag team partner for virtually his entire SWF career, and he rode that support all the way to the World Heavyweight Title; how can you say that he shouldn’t concern himself with the fans?” “I’ve got news for you, MacDougal,” snipes King, “None of those fans were in the ring when he won the World Heavyweight Title from Toxxic; he didn’t need their help to become champion! And, if you’ll recall, Wildchild was nowhere to be seen last August; he was too busy licking his wounds from the beating that Mike Van Siclen gave him; so obviously, Johnny didn’t need Wildchild’s help, either! Wildchild is dead weight to Dangerous; he’s holding him down in the stagnant Tag Team Division. Johnny has the potential to go on to greatness, if only he can get rid of that Caribbean Albatross that’s tied around his neck!” Maddix and Cortez discuss last-minute strategy in their corner, as the shrill guitar riff that heralds the arrival of the Tag Team Champions pierces the arena! RAAAAAAAAAAH! Prodigy’s “Fuel My Fire” floods the arena as Wildchild and Johnny step out onto the stage! “Their opponents,” booms Funyon, “at a total combined weight of four hundred thirty-one pounds, here are the SWF World Tag Team Champions… WILD! AAAAAND DAAAAANGEROUS!” Wild and Dangerous streak down to the ring, slapping hands with the fans clamoring around the ring barricade, and performing a victory lap around the ring before sliding underneath the bottom rope. Upon scrambling to their feet, they remove their title belts and raise them aloft, earning them more cheers from the crowd. “How about that, King?” asks Pete. “Wild and Dangerous came down to the ring without their singles titles; it looks like they’re showing the world that, when it comes time to put the Tag Titles on the line, they’re unified in their efforts tonight!” “Well,” replies King, “they’ve said before that they fight as one; after their singles success and everything that’s happened between them in recent weeks, we’ll have to see if that still rings true! We already know that Wildchild’s mind is on Scott Pretzler, now that he’s challenged him to a ladder match at Battleground, so it’s going to be up to Johnny to hold this team together!” Wild and Dangerous surrender their championship belts to referee Ronald “Red” Herrington, who holds them aloft to the crowd, who acknowledges them with polite applause. “There they are!” shouts LDP. “That’s what it’s all about!” Herrington hands the belts to the exiting Funyon and then motions to the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match: DING! DING! DING! “And there’s the bell!” cries Pete. “Time to get down to bid’ness!” Wildchild, as usual, starts the match off for his team, as Landon Maddix does for Martial Law. Recalling their tête-à-tête from Lockdown, Wildchild smiles as he extends his arm for a handshake, but Maddix flips him the bird, and the two continue to circle each other before locking up in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. “How about that,” says Pete, as Maddix backs Wildchild into the ropes, “Wildchild trying to continue some of that gamesmanship from Lockdown, and Maddix would have none of it; you can tell he’s focused, King!” Landon stuns Wildchild with a knee to the midsection before whipping him across the ring, but the Bahama Bomber reverses. Wildchild lowers his head to deliver a back-body drop as Maddix bounces off the ropes, but Landon flips through the body drop attempt, and lands on his feet. Before he can do anything else, however, Wildchild quickly spins around and leaps into the air… WHAM! … Nailing Maddix with a standing dropkick that sends him flying! “Whoa!” shouts Pete. “Maddix got the drop on Wildchild with that move on Lockdown, but this time, Wildchild was ready for it!” Wildchild beats Maddix to his feet and immediately charges at him, leaping into the air as he draws near his target… WHAM! … And blasting him underneath the chin with a leg lariat that sends him out of the ring! Wildchild takes a few steps back, eyeing Landon as he waits for the Cockroach to return to his feet, before suddenly spinning around without warning and charging the Martial Law corner… WHAM! … Driving a running forearm shot into Cortez’s temple that knocks him off the apron! “Look at that,” shouts Pete. “Wildchild with a cheap shot on Todd Cortez!” “Well, we know that there’s no love lost between Wildchild and Todd Cortez,” replies King. “The two of them were principle players in that very volatile feud between Wild and Dangerous and Hollywood Boulevard a year ago! And it all came back to a head just a few weeks ago, when they competed against each other in that fatal four-way!” Wildchild reaches through the ropes to grab Cortez by the hair, but he’s so engrossed with inflicting pain on the Urban Legend, that he fails to notice Landon Maddix sneak back into the ring and blast him with a running kneelift to the back! Cortez remains on the floor, out of position for a tag, so Landon grabs Wildchild by the back of the head… WHAM! … And rams him face-first into the top turnbuckle! He then grabs Wildchild and leads him across the ring, slamming his face into the neutral turnbuckle! Looking out into the crowd and pointing to himself as if to say, “that’s right,” Maddix grabs Wildchild by the back of the head once more and leads him across the ring to the other neutral corner, but Wildchild wriggles out of his grasp and maneuvers behind Maddix, pushing him into the corner instead. The Human Hurricane races to the edge of the ring as Maddix staggers out of the corner and leaps onto the top rope, curling into a ball as he springs off… WHAM! … And blasting the Cockroach in the chest with his patented Pinball attack! “Beautiful Pinball by Wildchild to take Maddix down,” shouts Pete. “And he’s going for the cover!” ONE! TW— KICKOUT! Cortez begins to step into the ring to break up the count, but quickly returns to the apron as he sees that Landon still has more than enough fight to kick out of the pinfall. Wildchild pulls Maddix to his feet and tries to lock up with him again, only for Maddix to back him into a neutral corner. Before Herrington can make his way to the corner to break them up, Wildchild manages to turn the tables, forcing Landon back into the corner. As Herrington comes between them, however, Maddix stuns Wildchild with a rake of the eyes! “Cheap shot by Maddix,” grumbles King. “I can’t believe he’d stoop that low!” “Well,” replies Pete, “consider it payback for the cheap shot Wildchild delivered to Cortez a few moments ago!” Landon charges out of the corner, arm reared back to deliver a mighty blow… WHAM! … And nearly knocks him out with a running forearm to the side of the temple! Landon pulls Wildchild to his feet and pushes him back into the corner, where he measures him for some knife-edge chops! SMACK! WHOO! SMACK! WHOO! SMACK! WHOO! Landon grabs Wildchild by the wrist and whips him across the ring into the other neutral corner. He runs in after him and leaps onto Wildchild’s chest, locking both hands behind his head to execute a monkey flip out of the corner, but as he arches back and sends Wildchild flying through the air, the Tropical Tumbler flips forwards and lands on his feet, waiting for Maddix to stand back up before taking him over with a textbook armdrag! “Spectacular counter by the Wildchild,” says LDP. “For a moment, it looked like Maddix was going to be able to take over this match!” Wildchild pulls Maddix to his feet and leads him over to his corner, where he makes the tag to Johnny. Wildchild whips Landon across the ring and runs to the opposing set of ropes as Johnny enters the ring. The Barracuda trips Landon with a drop toehold, and then rolls back out onto the apron just as Wildchild bounds off the ropes and leaps into the air… SPLASH! … Crashing down into the Cockroach’s back with a running splash! Johnny uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet, and then uses the top rope to slingshot his way into the ring, extending his leg as he falls to the canvas… CRASH! … Crashing onto Landon’s unprotected neck with a slingshot legdrop! “Vintage tag team wrestling by the Champions,” says Pete. “They’re going to work on the head and back of Landon, which will make him vulnerable for their finishers!” Johnny pulls Maddix to his feet and leads him over to a neutral corner, where the crowd begins to chant along as he bashes the Cockroach’s face into the top turnbuckle! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! Landon staggers backwards as Johnny releases him, and falls to the canvas on his posterior! Johnny pulls Landon back to his feet and leads him by the scruff of his neck to the other neutral corner, only to repeat the process: ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! This time, Maddix takes a nearly punch-drunk swing at the air before collapsing to the canvas! The Barracuda looks out into the crowd as they erupt to voice their approval: JOHN-NY! JOHN-NY! JOHN-NY! “Listen to these fans show their support for the aggressive behavior of Johnny Dangerous!” shouts Pete. “As well they should,” replies King. “It’s about time that these cretins recognized something praiseworthy!” Johnny pulls Landon back to his feet and pushes him into his corner, encouraging him to tag in Cortez. “And look at this: he just threw Maddix into his own corner! He’s saying, ‘go tag your partner!’ I have to say, I’m liking this new, more assertive Johnny Dangerous a lot more than the previous version!” “Well, now we’ve got the two power members of these two teams in the ring,” says Pete, as Cortez accepts the tag and enters the ring. “I’d hardly consider either of these two powerhouses,” replies King. “In fact, you can pretty much only consider them power wrestlers as compared to their partners.” Cortez and Johnny move towards each other to lock up, but end up quickly pushing each other away. Cortez runs to the ropes and slams into the Barracuda with a running shoulderblock… but neither man moves! Johnny steps towards Todd in another attempt at a lockup, but the Urban Legend instead waves him off, and points towards the Champions’ corner, demanding to square off against Wildchild. “Whoa!” exclaims Pete. “Look at that: Cortez wants a piece of Wildchild!” “There’s more than a little fire in the eyes of Todd Cortez as he looks across the ring at Wildchild,” says King. “Obviously that fatal four-way went a long way towards re-opening old wounds!” “Right,” LDP says sarcastically. “I’m sure that that cheap shot earlier in the match had nothing to do with it!” Johnny makes the tag to Wildchild, and then has to try and hold him back as he attempts to race across the ring right away to get his hands on Cortez. “How do you like that leadership on the part of Johnny Dangerous?” says King. “Keeping Wildchild from letting his temper get the better of him; if he can just keep that fruitcake under control, the Champions shouldn’t have any trouble retaining!” Pete just shakes his head in disbelief as Wildchild steps towards the center of the ring, standing nose-to-nose with the Urban Legend. They exchange some heated banter for a few seconds, before they start to trade punches! BAP! WHAM! BAP! WHAM! BAP! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! Eventually Cortez, the experienced street fighter, uses his strength to force Wildchild back against the ropes. He whips him across the ring and starts into his patented discus clothesline as he rebounds, but Wildchild ducks underneath the clothesline easily, exploding off the ropes as he rebounds a second time… WHAM! … And knocking the Urban Legend off his feet with a flying back elbow! Wildchild beats Cortez to his feet and races to the ropes, leaping through the air as he rebounds flipping through the air, grabbing Cortez by the head as he sails gracefully overhead… WHAM! … And grinding him into the mat with a flipping neck snap! “Whiplash!” shrieks LDP. “Wildchild’s heating up in there!” Wildchild pulls Cortez to his feet and whips him to a neutral corner, but the Urban Legend reverses and sends Wildchild in with all his strength, rifling him hard into the turnbuckle! Cortez races towards the edge of the ring as Wildchild staggers backwards out of the corner and erupts off the ropes as he rebounds… WHAM! … Knocking Wildchild silly with the Hollow Point! Cortez collapses to his knees to catch his breath as the fans show their approval: COR-TEZ! COR-TEZ! COR-TEZ! COR-TEZ! “Big time Hollow Point by Todd Cortez!” exclaims LDP. Cortez leads Wildchild back to the neutral corner and backs him up against the turnbuckles before scaling to the middle ropes. He looks out to the crowd, raising his hand above his head, before beginning a ten-count punch, with the fans counting along: ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! … But, unseen by Cortez, Johnny Dangerous sneaks into the ring and grabs him by the waist… FIVE! SIX! WHAM! … As he falls back into the ring, bouncing Todd off his head with a ferocious elevated German! “My God!” exclaims Pete. Red Herrington admonishes Johnny as he returns to the apron, but the Barracuda has already done the damage. “What a vicious suplex by the Barracuda! That could have broken Todd’s neck… and he wasn’t even the legal man!” “Brilliant move!” praises King. “Excellent leadership by Johnny Dangerous! That’s tag team wrestling at its finest!” Wildchild staggers over to his corner, where he is able to make the tag to Johnny. “And now Johnny’s back in the match!” The Barracuda legally steps into the ring this time, and with Wildchild’s help, pulls Cortez back to his feet before whipping him across the ring, grabbing him as he rebounds and lifting him off the canvas… WHAM! … Slamming him back down with a shattering double-spinebuster! In one fluid motion, Wildchild and Johnny each grapevine one of the Urban Legend’s legs with their near leg then reach across their bodies with their far arms and lock hands, before finally rolling forward to pull Cortez off the mat and through the air… WHAM! …And slams Todd back down to the mat with a double leg-whip powerbomb! “Big time maneuver by the Tag Team Champions,” shouts Pete as Herrington orders Wildchild back to the apron. He then drops down to the canvas to deliver the three count: ONE! TWO! NO! Cortez kicks out to a thunderous cheer! He begins pushing his way up to his hands and knees but is barely able to get that far before the Barracuda stomps his boot into the small of Cortez’s back, forcing him back into the canvas face-first. Once more, Cortez starts to push up with his hands and this time he gets pulled into a Camel Clutch from Dangerous! It’s more startling than painful at first, at least until Johnny exerts some serious pressure and gets a cry of pain out of the Urban Legend’s mouth! “You can see the determined and calculating mind of a secret agent at work here now, Pete,” says King. “With that Camel Clutch the Barracuda seems to be slowly chipping away at Cortez’s neck and getting him ready for that deadly Interrogator submission!” “He’s not going to be chipping away for too long though – here comes Landon!” Sure enough, Maddix isn’t just going to stand on the apron and watch his partner sit trapped in excruciating pain and leaps into the ring! Herrington tries to intercept the Cockroach, but he slides right past the referee and jumps up… CRACK! …And plants a drop kick into the back of Dangerous’ head, jarring him loose from Cortez! “Landon may have very well saved the team with that save,” says Pete. Landon steps towards Johnny, but this time the referee steps right in his path and orders Maddix out of the ring. Begrudgingly, he obliges, not wanting to get disqualified with his one chance at the Tag Team Championship. As he exits to the apron Cortez starts to pull himself up to a vertical base by way of the ropes, just as Johnny gets back up himself with a hand clenching the back of his head and steps towards Cortez. He knows he doesn’t want to let the Urban Legend to get too far away and risk the possibility of bringing a fresh man into the match, and he grabs around Todd’s waist for another German. However, Cortez sends and elbow flying blindly back to bat the Secret Agent away and nails him in the side of his head! “COME ON, TODD!” Maddix shouts to his partner from the apron with his hand extended, but before Cortez is able to get even one step closer to his partner, Johnny clubs him in the back over and over! It knocks the Urban Legend off balance and down to one knee, making him unable to resist as Johnny reacquires him around the waist then hauls him up and over… WHAM! …And back down into the mat neck-and-shoulders first with a German Suplex! Johnny quickly moves in and covers his opponent as the referee drops and counts for: ONE! TWO! T – NO! Once more Cortez thrusts his shoulders off the mat, saving himself from certain defeat! He isn’t so quick to make it up to his feet this time, though – the effects of the continuous attacks from Wild and Dangerous have slowed him down tremendously, so Johnny grabs him by his head, pulls him up, and blasts the Urban Legend in the chin with an uppercut! CRACK! OOOOOOOOH!! The fans let out from the hit, and Cortez unintentionally staggers back into the Wild and Dangerous corner, making it quite easily the easiest tag of the night. Smack! “Wildchild’s back in,” says Pete as the tag is made, and Wildchild hurdles over the top rope. “Wild and Dangerous have effectively cut this ring in half – keeping Cortez away from his partner while rotating themselves in and out.” “Well that’s how you win tag matches, Drain-Clogger,” adds King. Wildchild grabs Cortez by the arm and whips him across the ring, and nails him with a swift leg lariat on the return. “The Tag Champions certainly know what they’re doing and tonight is no exception. At this rate, even if Maddix is able to tag back in, I don’t think Cortez will be of much assistance!” However, the fans start to build a chant in favor of the Urban Legend, hoping that just maybe it’ll spark a little life into one their favorite member of Martial Law. “LET’S GO, COR-TEZ, LET’S GO!” CLAP! CLAP! “LET’S GO, COR-TEZ, LET’S GO!” CLAP! CLAP! Wildchild pulls Cortez up to his feet and once again whips him across the ring, only this time he sends the Urban Legend back into the Wild and Dangerous corner, causing Cortez to slam back-first into the unforgiving steel post, and then races in and nails Todd with a spinning elbow! Cortez slumps into the corner, completely stunned out of his mind. “Oh, man,” says Pete, “These two have been utterly ruthless to Cortez – I had no idea how much hate that four-way a few weeks ago would have brought back.” Before continuing with any more of an assault on Cortez, the Bahama Bomber bolts for the other side of the ring, to the Martial Law corner where Maddix eagerly awaits the coming of his partner, only to get nailed in the face with a sucker punch from Wildchild instead! Enraged, Maddix steps through the ropes – to say he’s a little frustrated with the way this match has been going would be an understatement, and now Wildchild had the nerve to sucker punch him? Nonetheless, Herrington steps in the way of Maddix to keep him from coming in the ring while ordering him back out. Wildchild, his anger far from abated, continues to try to get his hands on Landon, reaching over the top of Herrington, as the referee struggles to keep the two wrestlers separated. “Now that’s what I call some damn good officiating,” says King. “About time someone tried to actually keep Smarkdown the true wrestling show!” Unbeknownst to either Wildchild or the referee, however, Johnny wraps the tag rope around Cortez’s throat and begins to squeeze! “But he’s not even paying attention to Johnny – he’s choking the life out of Cortez with the tag rope,” Pete hastily replies, pointing towards the Wild and Dangerous corner where the Barracuda is, in fact, choking the Urban Legend with the tag rope. When the referee finally gets Maddix back out of the ring and turns around, Johnny lets go of the rope and innocently strolls away from the corner as Todd drops to his knees, gagging with both hands clenched around his neck. “Isn’t the referee going to at least say something?” questions Pete, “surely he’s not playing favorites here!” “Well it’s kind of hard for him to pay attention to what Johnny’s doing when he constantly has to keep Maddix and Wildchild from trying to kill each other,” King replies. “It’s all Landon’s fault, anyway: if he would just stay put, he’d never leave Cortez open to such an attack.” Cortez staggers up to a vertical base though still stunned, and once more he finds himself on the receiving end of an Irish whip as Wildchild grabs him by the arm, but Cortez plants his feet into the mat and uses what little strength advantage he has against the Bahaman and sends Wildchild for the ride instead! Wildchild goes flying across the ring, into a neutral corner, and slams chest-first into the steel post! He stumbles back out of the corner while clenching his chest and grimacing in pain and quickly gets rolled up from behind as Cortez swoops in and the fans explode into cheers! ONE! TWO! TH – KICK OUT! “Oh my, God!’ exclaims Pete. “Cortez nearly won this match on pure surprise. Imagine how the Tag Champions would have felt losing to something like that after all the work they put into trying to put Cortez away!” “It doesn’t matter what *would* have happened with Wild and Dangerous,” quips King. “They didn’t get pinned, anyway!” Wildchild pulls Cortez out of the corner and whips him across the ring, but Todd reverses easily. Cortez raises his arm to deliver a clothesline as Wildchild bounces off the ropes, but the Caribbean Cruiser ducks underneath and leaps onto Todd’s back, wrapping both arms around Cortez’s neck to trap him in a sleeper! “Sleeper!” shouts LDP. “This could do it!” Cortez, supporting Wildchild’s full body weight, begins to shuffle his way, step-by-step, towards his corner. Just when he seems like he could be close enough to tag, however, Johnny pantomimes as if he were about to enter the ring, goading Landon into jumping the gun and running in after him. As Herrington rushes over to the challenger’s corner to chase Maddix away, Johnny sneaks surreptitiously into the ring, grabbing Todd by the side of his trunks and pulling him backwards, causing him to fall onto his posterior, all while Wildchild maintains control of the sleeper. “Todd Cortez appeared to be on the verge of making the tag, but Johnny Dangerous was able to stop his momentum cold!” shouts Pete. “More excellent leadership on the part of Johnny Dangerous,” gushes King. “Not only did he keep Cortez from making the tag, but he kept his Maddix out of the ring and kept the referee in the dark the whole time… he even managed to keep Wildchild from realizing that he did anything at all!” “That’s right,” concedes LDP. “Wildchild’s full body weight was on Todd’s back, and he couldn’t see Johnny from his point of view; for all he knows, Cortez simply lost his balance!” After what seems like several minutes, Cortez finally starts to fade out, prompting Red Herrington to raise his arm up, watching as it slumps lifelessly to his side. “That’s once,” says Pete. “If that arm falls three times, it’s all over!” Herrington raises the arm a second time, watch as it once again falls. He lifts the arm a third time and steps back… BUT IT STAYS UP! RAAAAAAAAAH! “Look at Cortez fight back!” shouts Pete. Todd shifts his legs underneath him and begins to stand up a second time. Once he makes it to his feet, he begins to shuffle back to his corner, but Johnny calls the referee over to his corner, complaining about a loose tag rope, and leaving Herrington unaware when Todd finally reaches his corner and makes the tag! RAAAAAAAAAH! “Tag is made!” shouts Pete. “And in comes Landon Maddix!” “But the ref didn’t see it,” replies King, as Herrington orders Landon back to his corner. “Herrington can’t allow the tag if he doesn’t see it; more quick thinking and excellent ring generalship by the new and improved Johnny Dangerous!” Still on his feet, however, Cortez turns his back towards a neutral corner and slams back into it for all he’s worth, crushing Wildchild between his back and the turnbuckles! He collapses to his knees and begins to crawl towards his corner, only for Wildchild to get his bearings back and leap out of the corner… WHAM! … Nailing Cortez with a running elbow smash that knocks him flat on the canvas! Wildchild pulls Todd to his feet and whips him across the ring, but the Urban Legend reverses, scooping Wildchild into the air in a press slam as he bounces off the ropes and carrying him towards the edge of the ring… CHING! … Before crotching him on the top rope! RAAAAAAAAAH! “Whoa!” shrieks LDP. “Wildchild’s gonna be singing soprano after that move!” Still on his feet, Todd finally staggers over to his corner… SWAT! … Where he makes the tag to Landon! The Albuquerque fans erupt as the Cockroach leaps over the top rope to enter the ring, whipping Wildchild across the ring, leaping into the air as he rebounds and nailing him with a flying forearm! Johnny comes in to aid his partner, charging towards Maddix to deliver a running clothesline, but the Cockroach ducks underneath and spikes his leg sharply through the air as Johnny spins around… CRACK! … Blasting the Barracuda with a tremendous superkick, sending him spiraling to the mat and out of the ring! “Sweet Cuca Music!” exclaims Pete, “Landon Maddix is tearing down the house and keeping Martial Law alive in this match after all!” Maddix heads back over to Wildchild, grabbing him by his locks as he tries to get back up to his feet, and instead pulls Wildchild’s head into his knee! The Bahaman’s head glances off of Maddix’s kneecap and he falls backward to the mat. As expected, Maddix pounces onto him for the cover… ONE! TWO! THR-NOOO! “Not yet!” shouts King. “Wildchild barely got the shoulder up!” Landon pulls Wildchild to his feet and leads him over to Martial Law’s corner, where he makes the tag to his still-weary partner Todd. “Landon may have made a premature tag to his partner,” notes Pete, as Cortez positions Wildchild against the ropes. “They’d better be planning to put this match away right now!” Todd grabs Wildchild’s legs, holding him up against the top rope as Landon runs towards the ropes. “He’s Coming In For Landon!” exclaims LDP, as Maddix reaches the edge of the ring… CRASH! … And falls out of the ring, down to the floor, as Johnny pulls the top rope down! BOOOOOOOOO! “Outstanding!” praises King. “Once again, Johnny’s quick thinking has saved the Tag Team Titles for Wild and Dangerous!” “This is so unlike Johnny Dangerous,” says Pete. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him!” Cortez, realizing that something must have gone wrong, drops Wildchild and walks across the ring, where Johnny is holding up his arms to the crowd, as if to say, “I’m innocent!” Cortez reaches over the top rope and grabs Johnny by the hair, pulling him up to the apron! RAAAAAAAAAH! “Looks like Cortez has had enough of Johnny’s antics,” says LDP. Todd rears his arm back to deliver a clubbing forearm shot, but the quick-thinking Barracuda stuns him with an elbow to the ribs, and then grabs him by the back of the head and drops down to the arena floor… clotheslining the Urban Legend on the top rope! Todd stumbles backwards and turns towards the center of the ring… right into the waiting Wildchild, who doubles him over and twisting him around, before lifting him up, and… WHAM! “WILD RIDE!” exclaims Pete. “He nailed him with the Wild Ride!” The Albuquerque crowd gives off a mixed reaction as Cortez is driven headfirst into the canvas by Wildchild’s devastating finisher! Wildchild quickly floats over to cover his opponent as Herrington drops to count for: ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! “Well,” begins Pete, “I’m not too crazy about Johnny’s tactics tonight in that ring, but that was a tremendous match, nonetheless! Once more Wild and Dangerous have flexed their dominating muscles – this time silencing Martial Law!” “You win any way you can,” quips King, as Johnny reaches out and grabs his tag partner by his hand, helping him up to his feet while Cortez lies motionless on the mat. When Herrington returns to the ring with the Tag Team titles, Johnny eagerly, almost greedily, snatches up both title belts, holding them both aloft to the crowd briefly before surrendering his partner’s share. “The winners of this match,” bellows Funyon, trying his hardest to make his voice audible over the raucous crowd, “and STIIIIIL SWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIOOOOOOONS… WILD! AAAAAND DAAAANGEROUUS!!!” ‘Fuel my Fire’ kicks up on the speakers once more - pounding out over every inch of the arena in celebration as the referee raises the arms of Johnny and Wildchild in victory. “You can credit that win to Johnny Dangerous,” remarks King. “His leadership anchored this team, and enabled them to hang on to the titles. Unfortunately for Martial Law, Wild and Dangerous were a much more cohesive unit tonight; Johnny is clearly the captain of the team, and with Wildchild showing enough sense to follow his lead, they’ve proven that they’ve gotten past whatever issues they were dealing with at From the Fire. If they continue to wrestle like this, I may even grow to like this team… What’s it going to take to stop them?” Landon returns to the ring to check on his partner, staring with burning intensity at the retreating forms of the Tag Team Champions… As we: FADE OUT Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted April 19, 2005 “Welcome back from the break SWF fans,” Ben Hardy says, beaming into the camera supported by the faithful Gus, “I am backstage with the SWF World Heavyweight Champion, Toxxic! So Toxxic,” the interviewer continues, turning to face the Straight-Edge Sensation, “what do you think about the respective chances of ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins and ‘The Franchise’ Mak Francis of winning their rubber match tonight and earning the right to face you for your title at Battleground?” “Well, it’s gonna be close,” Toxxic says, “because they’re both sneaky little bastards who’ve cheated to win before now. If you want my professional opinion, I’d say that if Mak can keep it on the mat he should have the advantage but if Spike can get a bit of separation and turn it into a striking contest he’ll come out on top.” “…and if I ask for your unprofessional opinion?” Hardy says, knowing a cue when he hears one. Toxxic grins lopsidedly in response, his mouth creasing up humourlessly. “Unprofessionally Ben, I’m rooting for Spike.” “Er… right,” Hardy says, slightly thrown. “Given the bad blood that’s been brewing between yourself and Spike Jenkins I’m sure that news will come as a surprise to many people watching, not least Spike himself should he hear it. Is a Revolution Zero reunion in the offing, or are there other reasons at work here?” “Too bloody right there are,” Toxxic affirms forcefully, then turns away from Hardy to stare into the camera, steel grey eyes boring out into millions of living rooms. “Spike, I’ve wanted to get my hands on you for ages. You know very well how our last match against each other ended - and sure, I won, but only because you pasted me in the head with a steel chair and got yourself disqualified. Since then you’ve run your mouth and broken Sean Davis’ ankle and to be honest sunshine, I am bloody sick of you taking up space in my federation.” The Straight-Edge Sensation pats the World Title sitting on his shoulder to emphasise his point. “I know you won’t get yourself DQ’d if this is on the line, so I wanna see what you can bring to the ring on Sunday. I want to see if you can really step up and step out of my shadow, cos I don’t think you can. You’ve always had the athletic skills Spike, but you were wandering around with your head in a cloud of narcotic fumes and doing nothing with them,” Toxxic explains. “It took a loss to me to snap you out of it. Now you’d better remember one thing; everything you know about passion, about killer instinct, about not stopping until you get what you want…” Toxxic taps himself in the chest with two black-nailed fingers, “…you learned that from me. Now, it might be that all my teaching is gonna come back around and bite me in the arse if I face you on Sunday and you know what? I can deal with that.” Toxxic steps forward and leans into the camera lens so that even Ben Hardy is obscured from view. “I just want you to remember one thing. Everything you are now, and everything you will achieve, is down to me. You would never have got here on your own.” The lopsided grin returns, mirroring that which Spike himself has been using of late. “One year, two years, five years into the future, I want you to get up and look in the mirror, Spike. I give you my bloody promise, sunshine - you’ll see me looking back at you.” With that, the Straight-Edge Sensation turns on his heel and walks off down the corridor, leaving Ben Hardy looking after him. FADE OUT Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted April 19, 2005 “The following match-up is a TWO out of THREE falls match for the number one contender to the SWF World Heavyweight Championship!” The house lights shut off as the wispy sounds of a digital xylophone echo throughout the arena. You can feel the pulsation of the light dings, as a hard beat done by violins, suddenly strikes up slightly overshadowing the original background rhythm. “So do you wanna’ be a Franchise… And live large… A big house… five cars…” The SmarkTron flares up with a blue and white photonegative image of Mak Francis, which is followed by ‘The Franchise’ in large green lettering, flashing on the screen in time with the beat. “The rent charge… Comin’ up in the world, don’t trust nobody… Gotta’ look over your shoulder constantly!” As the opening lyrics from Rock Superstar by Cypress Hill, slightly altered of course, blare over the PA system, it takes a little while but eventually the self-proclaimed franchise makes his way through the curtain. The lights come back up and Francis comes out onto the stage, tilting his shades down on the bridge of his nose, before looking left and then right… “I remember the days, when I was a young kid grownin’ up… Lookin’ in the mirror dreamin’ about blowin’ up!” *FWISH-BOOM!* *FWISH-BOOM!* *FWISH-BOOM!* *FWIIIIIIIIIISH-BOOOOOOOOOOM!* “Making his way to the ring—from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and weighing in tonight at two hundred and forty pounds! He is one the true “FRANCHISE”… MAK FRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANCISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” That cues multiple short bursts of green pyrotechnics erupting from either side of him. He readjusts his shades with a smirk, before slowly strolling down to ringside trench coat billowing behind him. After walking up the ring steps, Mak cockily wipes his feet on the apron, giving a salute to the crowd, before entering through the middle ropes. Francis walks past Mark Hebner with a smirk and inaudible chuckle then proceeds to climb the turnbuckle posing with both fists raised in the air and hand of his coat to the nearest attendant. “And his OPPONENT!” Every light in the arena goes to full power as the Smarktron whites out. For a moment the only sound is that of a needle scratching over vinyl... And then *BAM* The crashing guitars of Lamb of God’s “Black Label” send a bolt through the crowd. The drumming sends a jolt throughout the arena, as the pace of the intro begins to pick up. Finally… “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” The high-pitched scream of Randy Blythe breaks through the speakers as the bright white lights begin flashing at the entranceway. Spike stumbles out dryly from behind the entrance curtain, the black hood of his cut-off sweatshirt covering his face, with only a few strands of hair being visible. Spike drops down to one knee, leaving one arm to hang to the ground, while the other is firmly placed on his knee. After a few moments, Spike raises both arms into an “X”, symbolizing his Straight Edge life style. Spike rises to his feet and begins to make his way down the isle towards the ring. ”From Hollywood, California and weighing in tonight at Two hundred and twenty-five pounds! He is… “HOLLYWOOD”… SPIKE JEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNNKINNNNNSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!” Spike rolls underneath the bottom rope, until he hits dead center in the middle of the ring. Spike rises to one knee, no poses right now, as he locks eyes on the man that forced him to tap out. His supposed mentor. The man he’s going to beat tonight, within an inch of his life. “And here we go!” Pete shouts, as Spike Jenkins practically throws himself at Mak Francis and they crash together like two sub atomic particles, causing the crowd to wince as if a shockwave of illumination was emitted from the collision. *BAM!* “Cheap shot,” King bemoans, as Hollywood lands a sharp right… and another to the face of his foe! “He’s attacking before the bell!” *Ding! Ding! Ding!* The bell is soon to follow at the behest of Mark Hebner, as Spike swings his fist again, meeting the side of Mak’s head. The Franchise, momentarily stunned, begins to cotton on and fires off right hands of his own, fighting back, but Spike is too far ahead as they fall to the canvas. Jenkins attempts to mount Mak, but the Franchise sits in half guard, just trying to keep his defenses up! *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* “Spike Jenkins is taking it directly to the Franchise here tonight.” Pete notes, as Mak begins shifting his body weight in a roll, both men ignoring the official’s pleas to break somewhat cleanly. “A distinct departure from how all of their previous matches have started.” “Well, Jenkins is pissed off…” King responds to the Longdogger’s statement, while Francis twists Spike off him and rolls on top of his opponent, who adopts a similar defensive position. “And now he’s about to get pummeled!” *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* “No shortage of punches so far tonight. Those pure wrestling rules of the last match have nothing to do with this encounter.” Spike, from his half guard slides Mak onto his side, but the Franchise just rolls with it, trying to keep on the attack. The two combatants roll towards the ropes, both swinging away as they tumble under the bottom cable and to the outside landing with a dull thud on the thinly padded floor. Mak holds his neck on the outside, apparently breaking Spike’s fall with the back of his head, while Jenkins rises to a knee. The Franchise sits up and receives a knee to the side of his head, for his troubles! The front row has already risen to it feet, pounding on the barricade, as Spike scores another knee to Francis sending him sprawling towards the barrier! The pounding on the wall intensifies, as the pounding on Mak’s head by Spike does. “This isn’t a wrestling match—Hebner, do you job and get it back in the ring.” Inside the ring, Mark Hebner sticks his head between the ropes and shouts to bring the action back inside. If Spike heard him, he doesn’t acknowledge, picking Mak up by the arm and tossing him into the barricade back first! Hebner just shakes his head and begins his count, hoping to gain some control over the match. “One!” “Two!” Fans pat the Franchise on the back briefly and then quickly back away from the scene unfolding before them. “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins running head long into Mak Francis… “Thre-” …who grasps him about the waist and takes a step forward, more like a little hop, as he pops his hips and sends Spike FLYING overhead, past the barrier and into the CROWD! “That was an overhead belly to belly suplex INTO the crowd!” LDP shouts, as Spike lands in the audience, his head hitting the chair of a fan that dove out of the way while Mak leans back against the barrier. The Franchise rubs at his face, trying to regain his composure from the initial onslaught. In the ring, Hebner remembers to start his count again, momentarily paralyzed by the thrown into the audience. “…Four!” “Indeed it was, Dippity-dog!” King says, as Mak walks back towards the ring, rolling under the bottom cable. Hebner sighs in relief, only to see Francis roll right back to the outside! “And even though I don’t like him, Mak Francis just did something that even I have to admit was cool.” “Cooler than saying… or a gun all the time?” “Depends on how many times you run the joke into the ground…” King responds, as Mak makes his way back over to the front row. Spike, feeling multiple hands patting him blinks back to reality and sees the upside down faces of audience members, when Mak grabs him by the hair and assists Spike over the wall and back to the floor. Leading Spike back towards the ring by his hair, Mak waves off the referee, who continues to insist that they bring the match back in the squared circle. Jenkins, having regained his bearings somewhat, fires off a right hand to the ribcage of the Franchise… and another – but Mak just turns and raises a knee into his midsection, knocking the fight out of Spike for the moment. “Back inside we go finally.” Pete notes, as Spike gets tossed under the bottom rope; it seems just to shut Mark Hebner up. Back inside, Spike pushes himself to a knee and grabs the ropes, pulling himself up in the corner, while Mak sidesteps Hebner and any warnings he may be giving. Making his way to the corner, the Franchise suddenly jerks back, his chest stinging from the impact of Spike’s hand— *Smack!* “WHOOOOOOOO!” But Mak lands a toe kick to the stomach, and then grabbing the ropes stomps away with a side kick… and another… and another! Effectively winding his opponent before answering back— *Smack!* “WHOOOOOOOO!” Nailing Spike with a knife-edge chop! The crowd begins to rally behind the Franchise with “WHOOO’S!” as he once again— *Smack!* “WHOOOOOOOO!” —Plasters the former Revolution zero member with another hard knife-edge chop! Mak quickly pulls his arm back again— *Smack!* “WHOOOOOOOO!” —Hitting a third scintillating knife-edge chop!! Spike shudders from the impact and Francis backs Jenkins out of the corner and into the ropes, sending him off in an Irish whip. “Irish whip—no, reversal, Jenkins puts on the breaks!” Pete says, calling the action, as Spike stops on a dime and twists Mak around, kicking him in the gut. Then he loops his arm around the throat of Francis, looking to sit out and hit a side shoulder jawbreaker—nope, Mak counters with rapid fire back elbows stunning Hollywood and stopping him dead in his tracks, only to grab his arm and dive backwards towards the mat in a Single arm DDT! “Spike proving just how minor a threat his ‘Minor Threat’ is!” King adds gleefully, as Hollywood clutches at his right arm. Spike grimaces into the mat, as Mak sits up, a smirk coming across his features as he points to his head, tapping his temple three times. LDP shakes his head at the bad joke, but gives it credence. “Tonight the tables have turned. Just like Spike was able to do in their previous match, Mak Francis has flipped the script by using his knowledge of a hold he himself uses to his advantage.” Spike, not one to stand down for long, rises to a knee, wiggling his fingers to get the feeling back in his arm. Mak stands and does what he does best – follows up – grabbing Spike by the arm and twisting it overhead in an arm wringer! Spike winces slightly, trying to gain wrist control with his other hand, but Mak yanks down on the arm sending a fresh wave of pain and stopping any thoughts of countering in their tracks. The Franchise swings Spike down in an amateur arm drag takedown and steps over attempting to bar the arm, but Spike rolls into his body alleviating the pressure. Now without any added torque on his arm, Spike tries to squirm away from Mak’s grasp, but Francis doesn’t want another stand up battle against Jenkins; he has Spike down on the mat, exactly where he wants him. Grasping a hold of Jenkins’ arm, Mak keeps close to Spike as he applies a key lock, then slides away slightly preventing Spike from connecting with one of his stiff strikes, like the elbow he received in their last match. Mak pushes down and Spike’s shoulders hit the mat. Hebner already at his knees to check the hold; makes the count… ONE! TW—No. Spike lifts his shoulder back up. LDP looks on at the scene unfolding in the ring. “Mak always has a game plan and it is evident here. Maintain arm control and work the limb over. Nothing has changed for the Franchise, even after Spike’s early flurry of offense.” Pete notes, as Francis calmly exerts more pressure on Hollywood’s right wing. “That’s why he’s one of the best ground tacticians in this bid’ness.” Spike does however manage to climb to his feet, cringing as Mak applies even more pressure to his arm, but fights up with an elbow to the gut… and another… and another! Finally getting some separation, Spike thinks out his next plan of attack, but that momentary pause allows Mak Francis to shoot his left leg out and sweep it towards Spike’s ankle… …but Jenkins remembering their last encounter spots the cross arm-breaker set-up with seconds to spare and hops over the flash takedown! Francis’ eyes widen in surprise, sure he had a chance at a submission, when an elbow lands flush with Mak’s face, stunning him! *CRACK!* “RAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Spike, like a shark smelling blood, presses his new advantage, feeling a twinge in his arm with each forearm he lands on the Franchise, backing him into the ropes. “Irish whip—reversal and Spike hits the ropes.” Pete calls as a still groggy Mak cannot avoid getting hit with a running elbow from Hollywood! Francis falls to the mat, holding his face, while Jenkins shakes out his arm. No pain, no gain. “Does Jenkins grind his elbows to a point with a pencil sharpener or something?” King questions, while Spike picks Mak back up and pushes him into the ropes for an Irish whip. Francis is sent to run the ropes and upon his return, ducks a back elbow from Hollywood. Mak rebounds off the ropes and preps to raise his leg for a Yakuza kick, but notices that Spike is already one step ahead of him, sliding forward in a Toxxic-esque soccer tackle! Francis stumbles briefly, trying to regain his balance and does so, just barely leapfrogging Spike as he attempts to undercut the Franchise’s bad knee. Missing his target, Spike pops up to his feet, raising his leg for a high kick that Mak ducks under!! Both men run towards their respective ropes and bounce back, leaping into the air and colliding body to body with dueling cross-bodies! “Cross-body to cross-body, King!” LDP shouts, as the two warriors hold their stomachs on the mat. “They had the same idea and you know what they say about great minds thinking alike!” “Well they’re both stupid in my book.” King says snidely. “Now neither of them has the advantage.” Hebner bends down and looks at the two wrestlers, as they begin to move, the crowd stomping their feet awaiting to see if they’ll get to yell the standing ten count… when both Mak and Spike push themselves up to a knee. Mark claps his hands signaling they’re getting up and backs away, as Francis gets to his feet first, punishing Spike with a forearm to the face! Jenkins stumbles slightly, but answers back shooting up from his knees and whacking the Mak attack with a strike of his own! The Franchise holds his jaw, but leans forward again, nailing Spike with another strike! Spike, though his arm is hurting knows that this strike battle is the chance he needs to turn the tide in his favor. He’s the better striker, so he acts like it, pushing forward, the pain in his arm having ebbed away since Mak hasn’t been able to focus on it. A forearm and another… and then… RIGHT! RIGHT! … “RAAAAAAAAAH!” “ROLLING ELBOW!” Pete shouts, as Spike spins around to hit one of his signature strikes, but Mak pushes him in the back as he turns, sending him into the ropes! Mak raises his leg for a high kick as Spike returns, but Jenkins ducks under skidding to a stop… “…Shit.” He mumbles. …Mak turns on instinct and as he sees the foot of “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins flying towards him he remembers back to when he used to be able to throw a decent superkick… and the one counter that anybody who throws one hates the most. Checking Hebner’s positioning with practiced ease, so as not to give himself away, Mak ducks his head slightly and fires his left hand forward socking Spike directly in his ball sack!! “OOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!” “LOW BLOW!” Longdogger Pete and the Suicide King shout. One pleased, one chagrined, as Spike, nearly crumples from the extreme pain. Clearly parts of the crowd saw the indiscretion, but all that matters is Hebner did not. Mak quickly fires off a toe kick, barely even connecting but Hebner can’t tell that. Spike hunches at the waist and slaps on a front facelock… Cradles the leg… Lifts a helpless Spike Jenkins into the air and kicks his legs out, jumping into the air and simply sending Hollywood’s head careening into the canvas with the cranium crushing FRANCHISE TAG! Spike’s body goes limp for a second, as Mak sits up from the canvas as raises an eyebrow to a mixed reaction. Mark Hebner drops to the mat, vaguely suspicious but forced to count none the less, and even the crowd counts along half-heartedly… “ONE!” “It’s over, Pete!” “TWO!” “Nobody kicks out of the Franchise Tag!” “THREE!” And so far nobody has… *Ding! Ding! Ding!* Funyon’s voice comes through on the microphone, after Hebner waves his hands signaling for the bell. “The winner of the first fall, by pinfall, MAK FRANCIS!” Pete sits slightly disgusted by the scene in front of him. “Spike Jenkins was just robbed in broad daylight, folks. Mak is a great competitor, but that was highway robbery of a fall, right there!” “And what Spike did in their previous matches wasn’t?” King questions, while Spike alternates between his head and his hurting nether regions. “I didn’t say that, King. Don’t put words in my mouth.” Pete says, while Hebner checks on Jenkins. “But this is the rubber match between these two guys and I was hoping for a clean contest all the way through… though knowing just who we’re watching I should have known better.” “Please,” King starts. “This IS the rubber match. For a shot at Toxxic and the SWF World Heavyweight Title! If anything they should cheat more than they did in the earlier encounters. As long as they don’t get caught, that is.” Hebner haven given Spike past the mandatory ten seconds to recover, realizes his error and signals for the bell again. *Ding! Ding! Ding!* “And the second fall is under way!” King notes, as Mak walks over to the stunned Spike and grabs at him. Jenkins swats his hands away and rolls, but Francis is persistent and grabs him by the hair, lifting him to his feet. Hebner warns Mak about the hair, and since he just got away with a low blow, Francis obeys quickly releasing the hair and snitching in another front headlock. “He’s going for it again!” King shouts, as parts of the crowd rise again while he attempts to hook Spike’s leg, but Hollywood won’t allow him to hook the leg, so Francis follows up his Franchise Tag with a vertical suplex floating over into a pin! ONE! TWO! THR—No! Hollywood slides out of the lateral press in a not so impressive kick-out. “Close call for Spike there, King! He did well to avoid that Franchise Tag, cause we just saw what it can do, low blow or not.” Pete adds as the Franchise sits up and thinks on his next plan of attack. He grabs Spike by the hair, quickly letting go again at the referee’s warning and then pulls him up to his feet, dragging him towards the ropes. Mak tosses Spike into the ropes face first and belts him in the kidney with a forearm! Jenkins stumbles back into the ropes on wobbly legs, but somehow uses the momentum to spin and lunge forward, blasting Mak in the face with an elbow!! “Francis going for that Kidney punch into a side Russian leg sweep. A staple combo of his, but Spike still has a lot of fight left in him!” Mak pivots blinking in pain, as he turns back around, only to see Spike Jenkins sliding at his left leg and crashing into it with a soccer takle! Mak leg buckles and he falls to the mat, remembering the injury Sacred exposed in their championship match. And with his face seething, Mak checks his knee, feeling that raw pain again. As Spike pushes himself up to a knee, Francis doesn’t even waste a second tackling Spike to the mat! Mak, on his hands and knees grabs Spike by the hair and mounts him, pounding away with straight right hands to the face! *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* “It would seem that going after Mak’s knee was not a good idea for Spike’s health.” “We’ve seen this before and we’ll see it again. Everybody should know by now that going after Mak’s knee is taboo. He may not flip out like he did against Sacred, but he’ll inflict some real punishment on you for the rest of the match.” And Mak stays on him grabbing Spike by the hair and glaring at the ref, as if to say ‘I don’t give a fuck’ before lifting him to his vertical base. Mak backs Spike into the ropes with a few punches to the face and sends him away on an Irish whip, lowering his head for a back body drop—nope, too early! Spike as out of it as he is, capitalizes on this mistake and gets a kick to Mak’s chest! Francis covers up, the wind knocked out of him for a second and that second is all Spike needs, snitching in a front headlock and pulling Mak down towards the canvas!! “Guillotine choke!” Pete calls, as Spike attempts to wrap his legs around Francis’ bodyto get the submission. “This could even this match up right here.” “But flash submissions are Mak’s specialty, Toilet clogger!” King responds, since even as he speaks Mak begins to sprawl, countering the attempted body-scissors. Not able to get the guillotine, Spike sandbags hoping to buy some time, but Mak fights up to his feet, forearming at the ribcage of his opponent and then suddenly arching backwards, lifting him overhead in a beautiful Northern Lights suplex!! ONE! TWO! THR—No! Spike bridges out; finding strength from god knows where and pushing up with all he has left! The crowd marvels at the move, cheering like crazy as they rotate around… and into position for a back slide!! Spike drops down onto his knees and leverages Mak over, Hebner moving into position and the crowd counting in hopes of seeing a third fall. “ONEEE!” “TWOOOOOOO!” “THREEEEEAAAAHHH!” “Noooooo!” Pete shouts. “So close!” he adds, as Mak falls onto his belly, haven broken the roll-up! Mak ends up on his hands and knees, as Spike pushes himself up, after being so close to tying up the match… *WHAM!* Only to have the Franchise EXPLODE forward and clock him with a clothesline! “Mak is pissed!” King says, stating the obvious, as Francis seethes from nearly having the match tied up. “But it also seems that his anger leaves him prone to mistakes, King.” LDP adds. “We forget that Mak is still young and even with all of his in ring and amateur experience, he falls prey to rookie mistakes when he’s not focused on his normally excellent strategies… minus the cheating of course.” “Of course.” Spike crawls into the nearest corner, which allows an irate Mak to hit his boot scrapes, and then adding insult to injury Mak gets a knee brace scrape! Then he sets-up for a Yakuza kick with Spike now standing propped up in the corner – but Mak misses a corner Yakuza kick, crotching himself on the turnbuckle and Spike loops behind and hits a Dangerous German suplex!!! Jenkins sits in in control with strikes to the face on Mak, who suddenly leaps into the air and counters with a Flying Cross arm-breaker, out of nowhere, which Spike turns into a roll up, but Mak quickly kicks-out the damage done! “Francis using a different method to get that cross arm-breaker, is right back in this.” Mak uses the ropes to work over Spike’s arm then gets a cross corner whip, leading to The Truth Hurts, but Spike turns and plasters Mak with a Lariat but can’t make the cover because of his arm! Spike backs away and goes for the Shinning Apprentice, but Mak ducks on and slides into a Flip-over German suplex!! “That suplex wasn’t just filthy—it was a ‘Super-filthy German suplex’!” shouts King as Mak remains in control. Sliding on the ground over to Spike… securing one arm. then securing the other arm for a double chickenwing, and flips forward into the Cattle Mutilation~!! “OM MY GOD! CATTLE MUTILATION! Spike was able to reach the ropes in their last match, but this time the move is locked in, center of the rin—COUNTER!” shouts Pete, as Spike slides his arm close together and forces Mak’s bridge to lessen. He then slips his arms out from between Francis’ in perfect position for a move… like a dragon sleeper!!! “RAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” The crowd explodes to its feet as Spike with a bad right arm, struggles to hold on, grinding away at the weakened neck of the Franchise! Mak’s arms flail about wildly, any other grappler would have just tapped out once in this position, up a fall. Better to give up the fall, than to risk injury AND lose the fall! But Mak searches for something, anything to aid him in his quest not to tap out. “Can Mak Francis make the ropes, Pete?” “He’s fading fast! I think he’s too far away!” “How could this have happened?” Because damnit, Mak Francis doesn’t tap out! “You gotta’ TAP!” Mak Francis doesn’t tap out! “You gotta’ TAP!” …Mak Francis doesn’t tap out… “YOU GOTTA’ TAP!” …Mak Francis can’t tap out… Mak Francis does indeed… *tap-tap-tap* Tap out. *Ding! Ding! Ding!* Funyon’s voice comes through on the microphone, after Hebner waves his hands signaling for the bell. “The winner of the first fall, by submission, SPIKE JENKINS!” *Ding! Ding! Ding!* Mak rolls outside the ring to buy himself some time, and Spike follows, propping Mak up against the ring post in a Tom Flesher-esque move Spike runs forward attempting to Yakuza kick Mak into the steel ring post, but he misses as Francis dives out of the way!! “Oh no! Spike must have re-injured his knee in the process!” Mak rolls Spike into the ring and Hollywood hobbles around, but Mak gets a low dropkick then attempts The Truth Hurts, whipping Spike into the corner, but it doesn’t connect when Spike’s knee gives out on him during the Irish whip! “It’s over for Spike now!” Mak cruises in like a shark smelling blood and picks Spike up by the leg and sends him crashing down against his own knee brace in a shin breaker! The crowd groans as Mak picks him up again and hits another shin breaker! Pete calls the action. “Multiple Shin-breaker by Mak sends Spike hobbling towards the corner…” The Franchise rushes forward looking to put Spike down for the count, but Jenkins uses his good leg and he executes a Jack Briscoe Sunset flip roll-up! “ONNNEEE!” Spike looks at the ropes…. ”TWOOOOOOOOOO!” But he can’t bring himself to grab them for leverage… ”THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAHHHHHHH!” And Mak counters through the roll-up! “ONNNEEE!” ”TWOOOOOOOOOO!” ”THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAHHHHHHH!” … ”NOOOOOOOO!” So close, but only two for Mak! “Spike has a chance to grab the ropes for extra leverage but couldn’t do it!” Both Spike and Francis get to their feet, and Mak dashes forward, as fast as he can anyways, leaping onto the ex-Rev 0 member, who does catch him… BUT can’t hold him! Spike’s knee buckles under the weight and ‘the Franchise’ shifts his own weight down causing Jenkins to fall head over heels, while Mak clasps his hands together and bridges forcing Spike’s SHOULDERS TO THE MAT IN AN OKLAHOMA ROLL! ONE! TWO! NOOOOO! Spike bridges back, reversing the pin and sending Mak to the canvas with HIS shoulders pinned adrenaline handling any pain in his arm for the moment!!! ONE! TWO! THRENOOOOO! Mak breaks the pin and rolls away, his back now facing Jenkins who props himself slightly on his good leg and yanks Francis down in a school boy!!! “SCHOOL BOY ROLL UP!” ONE! TWO! THRE—NOOOOOO! Francis drives a shoulder up off the mat and rolls off his back rotating from his knees… HOPPING OVER SPIKE WITH HIS LEGS WRAPPED AROUND THE ARM HE ATTEMPTED THE SCHOOL BOY WITH INTO A LA MAJISTRAL CRADLE!!!! The crowd goes ballistic as the quick pinfalls keep on coming, counting along as loudly as possible!!! “ONNNEEE!” ”TWOOOOOOOOOO!” ”THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAHHHHHHH!” … ”NOOOOOOOO!” Somehow… Someway… Spike Jenkins breaks his leg free and thrusts a shoulder into the air!!!! The crowd explodes at the fast paces action, nobody is in their seat!! Two men going counter for counter all their hopes and dreams could be over in less than three seconds! This is what a true main event is supposed to feels like… adrenaline running high and everyone screaming their voice horse!! After the last kick-out, Mak slaps Spike around but falls right into The Highlighter, which leads into the Ratings Grabber… …but Mak rolls out from underneath! Francis quickly loops behind the downed Spike and the Franchise grasps the former Rev0 member about the waist and his opponent, while still trying to shake off the effects of his injured arm and knee, fires off a back elbow that hits Francis directly over the his right eyebrow! Spike connects with a second elbow, but Mak shakes off the pain, holding his grip like a pitbull, as he pops his hips in a— *Thump!* “German suplex by the Franchise, but he’s not letting go! Rolling Germans!!!” Spike gets pulled up to his feet with Francis, but doesn’t surrender to his suplex, and agilely runs into the ropes! Jenkins struggles to hold on, as Francis fights to break his grip! Spike fires off back elbows again, as Mak succeeds in pull him away allowing Mak pops his hips in— *Thump!* —Another German suplex!! Francis rolls up to his feet again, with the crowd cheering both competitors on during this great contest, and Mak quickly interlocks his hands about Spike’s neck and arches back… *BANG!* PLANTING him into the canvas with a Cobra clutch suplex! Hebner moves into position as Francis falls into a cover… “ONNNEEE!” ”TWOOOOOOOOOO!” ”THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAHHHHHHH!” … ”NOOOOOOOO!” “Long time two count!” Pete shouts, as Mak places Spike up top for a move, but Jenkins fights out and maneuvers Francis into position for a Second rope Ratings Crash! Neither man can get up… Spike because his knee and Mak because he’s knocked out… Hebner bends down and looks at the two wrestlers, as they begin to move, the crowd stomping their feet awaiting to see if they’ll get to yell the standing ten count… “ONNEEE!” “TWOOO!” “THREEE!” ”FOUR!” “FIVE!” “SIX!” …when both Mak and Spike push themselves up to a knee. Mark claps his hands signaling they’re getting up and backs away, as Francis gets to his feet first, punishing Spike with a forearm to the face! Jenkins stumbles slightly, but answers back shooting up from his knees and whacking the Mak attack with a strike of his own! The Franchise holds his jaw, but leans forward again, nailing Spike with another strike! Spike, though his arm is hurting knows that this strike battle is the chance he needs to turn the tide in his favor. He’s the better striker, so he acts like it, pushing forward, the pain in his arm having ebbed away since Mak hasn’t been able to focus on it. A forearm and another… and then… They both get their legs up for a Yakuza kick! But Mak being two inches taller than Spike hits his more flush and falls into a cover! “Not like this!” “ONNNEEE!” ”TWOOOOOOOOOO!” ”THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAHHHHHHH!” … *Ding! Ding! Ding!* “The winner of this match and the number one contender to the SWF World Heavyweight Title… the one true “Franchise”… MAAAAAAK FRANNNNNNNNCIIIIIISSSSSSS!” “That’s all folks, we are rushed and out of time.” ============ SWF Smarkdown A Superior One Production Raising Workrate by Typing Really Quick Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
