SJL Metal - Wednesday, May 15

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

Well, he was!  Funny, though.  We choose to have the show in the Ice Palace the same night I go there to see him play...man, we know how to pick our arenas for ironic coincedence.

 

#1 CONTENDER'S MATCH TO THE TV TITLE

Scott Reid vs. "The Franchise" Mak Francis

-These two made their debut against each other last week, and Reid came out on top.  With Mak coming off a strong win over Cutthroat, these two new guys fight it out for a shot at TNT's TV Title this Crimson!  On Crimson, all titles will be defended, and this will be the first of them!  Try and stay in the word limit this time, Mak.

 

NON-TITLE TABLES ELIMINATION MATCH - OUCHIE!

"TNT" Taylor Nicholas Thompson © vs. Ced Ordonez vs. T-Bone

-You heard me, boys!  Ced took a beating at the hands of Flexxx and Poisyn on Crimson despite pinning Flexxx in the elimination match, and now he's gotten himself in line for another possible ousting at the hands of reigning TV champ TNT, who was just defeated by Sydney Sky.  He'll also have to deal with T-Bone, a hardcore loving Steak-Sauce Covered Bastard who's had a little time off.  This match is non-title, but should offer a fine and brutal proving ground for both men.  DQ and count-out rules are NOT in effect.  If someone goes through a table of their own volition, they are not eliminated, just stupid.  Last man not tabled wins.

 

SINGLES MATCH

Mafia vs. Poisyn

-On Crimson, Flexxx seemed to make amends with Matt Myers, AKA Poisyn, putting their pasts aside.  What does this spell for the New Sound, and how will Mafia react to this?  Unity, or brutality?  Straight-up one-on-one action here.

 

TRIPLE THREAT MATCH

Frost vs. Sydney Sky vs. Insane Luchador

-With a win over the TV champ TNT on Crimson, the cute-as-a-button and sharp-as-a-tack Riot Grrl has gotten herself back in the swing of things after her long respite from the League, firmly establishing herself as someone ready to tussle in the upper reaches of the Euro division.  However, there's another one with that claim staked, and that man is Frost, who is the current #1 contender to the belt.  Throw in Insane Luchador, who scored a big win for his team over Mafia and Z on Crimson, and you have one wild three-way.  First fall wins.  A good showing from any competitor here will really help their chances in the future...

 

EUROPEAN TITLE MATCH

Tod deKindes © vs. "Deathwish" Danny Williams

-Tod pulled the upset over Deathwish, but Williams got Tod to agree to rematch on Crimson.  Was deKindes' win a fluke, or does the Germanator have endurance rival to that of a Volkswagen?  Only time, or perhaps this match, will tell.  Frost, the official #1 contender to the belt, will got his shot on Crimson after these two have sorted out their differences...

 

TEXAS BULLROPE MATCH

Flexxx vs. Z

-This show is just chock full of cool matches, huh?  What can I say, I was feeling inspired...anyhoo, on Crimson, Flexxx made it pretty damn clear that he wants a shot at Ash Ketchum's world title, or maybe even just Ash Ketchum himself.  Flesher and Xero are next in line, however, so the Commish is making Flexxx bide his time with the next best thing: Ash's XF9 running buddy, Z!  Here are the rules.  The two men are bound at the wrist by the bullrope, a 12-foot long piece of very thick rope, the kind used to, well, tie down bulls and stuff.  The ends are looped so that the rope may be removed, but it's a pretty tight fit, so that's going to be a bit a struggle.  You're encouraged to keep it on most of the time.  DQ rules are not in effect, but count-out rules are.  However, I encourage you to use the rope primarily--that's the point of the match.  The first man to score a pinfall, submission, k-o, whatever, is the winner!  Phew.  Hope that makes sense.

 

SUBMISSION MATCH FOR THE WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE

Ash Ketchum © vs. "The Superior One" Tom Flesher

Special Guest Referee: Thoth

-It's Tom Flesher's rematch for the World Title, and it's a doozy.  The odds have to be stacked against Ash here, but can the graduated undercard king keep on keepin' on even under greatest pressure?  These two have been at each other's throats since the title change last week, and now it's about to be settled.  Your rules are quite simple: victory is only by tap-out or blackout.  Thoth of the SWF Clan is the special referee for this match, and he's the one who makes the final call on the submission.  The winner here will draw Xero on Crimson, if Commissioner Edwin decides to lift his suspension.  Excluding the special victory-only-by-submission rule, all other DQ and count-out rules are in effect.

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

A shot of the Ice Palace in Tampa, Florida from an diagonal angle is shown as SJL Metal appears on millions of homes around the world. The words SJL METAL appear over a black screen and the words slowly fade out.  A montage appears of Tom Flesher announcing his match with Ash Ketchum for the SJL World Title.

 

[Fade in]

 

Flesher speaks on how the only person he’s after is Ash Ketchum and his World title.

 

[After a quick cut Flesher goes on to talk about Ketchum.]

 

Flesher: I don't know why he's trying so damn hard to be Edwin MacPhisto. Oh, wait. My mistake. Ash doesn't like PANDAS... he like DUCK-BILLED PLATYPUSES.

 

[The camera moves to a different angle on the right side of Flesher.]

 

He's not a member of the prank-loving babyface Midnight Carnival, he's in the prank-loving babyface X Force 9...

 

[The camera flashes to a new camera angle from the left side of Flesher.]

                               

Why do you want to be a Carnie so badly? And WHY DON”T YOU LET IT DROP?! God, they're so much smarter than that. They'd drop you like a bad habit if you looked at them wrong… "Carnie in training," my ass - they'd beat you into submission!

 

[The camera pans out and shows a wide screen of the ring with Flesher in the middle.]

 

Yes, Ash... that's what it's going to be. Next Wednesday, we'll meet in a submission match. You'll walk in carrying my SJL World Title belt... and I'll walk in empty-handed. I'll walk out with the SJL World Title belt... and you'll leave empty-handed. But believe me, Ash, you won't walk out. No. You won't even be conscious…I've got plans. Oh, believe me, Ash... I have plans... I'm bringing four of my closest friends with me next Wednesday, just to keep things fair. But that's not all, Ash... because the guest referee for this match....

 

["Quarantined" by At The Drive-In begins to play over the loudspeaker. A dark figure wearing black bondage pants and a white dress shirt appears in the entranceway, to a mixture of loud boos and shocked silence.]

 

The camera pans up to the entranceway and the figure is finally revealed. The camera zooms in on Flesher’s eyes as he speaks.  It slowly pans away as he speaks allowing his face to be shown as he finishes.

 

The guest referee is none other than THOTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

[Fade out]

 

As the pyrotechnics and smoke go off SJL METAL is on the air. The crowd screams as the camera zooms in on a few choice signs. Signs: “Flesher-fears-Pikachu”, “I’m-a-Z-mark”, “Frost + Glass = Ratings”, “Where’s-Shawn-Brody???” The camera quickly cuts to a man in between two other people.

 

Axis: Hello, I’m Axis and welcome to SJL METAL at the sold out Ice Palace in Tampa, Florida! I’m you ring side announcer along with to my left and right respectively are “The Crown Prince of Flash and Panache”…Edwin MacPhisto and Former SWF World Champion…The Suicide King.  

 

MacPhisto: Tonight we’ll see the rematch dreams are made of as “The Superior One” Tom Flesher challenges the current World Champion Ash Ketchum in a submission match with Thoth as the special guess referee. Thoth is Flesher’s running buddy and has a history with Ketchum.

 

King: Also by order of the panda hugger, all titles and #1 contender spots will be on the line with the exception of the SJL Television Champ, “TNT” Taylor Nicholas Thompson. He has his own problems as he has a triple threat table’s match against Ced Ordonez and that marinating master, T-bone.

 

MacPhisto: The European Title is on the line as “Deathwish” Danny Williams challenges Tod deKindes later in the show. That and many other match-ups but first we bring you Scott Reid vs. "The Franchise" Mak Francis for the #1 CONTENDERSHIP TO THE TV TITLE!

 

King: These two men have a little history as Scotty defeated Mak last week on METAL but hopefully these two young men will show us and TNT that they’re ready for the TV title.

 

Axis:  So without any further adieu SJL METAL!

 

“The Pittsburgh Plunge” hits the loudspeakers and Scott Reid, a mic in hand, comes strutting out from behind the curtains with a huge, shit-eating grin across his face. Fans rise to their feet, throwing trash and spitting insults his way, but he just pauses for a second and raises his arms, egging them on. The best and only well-dressed announcer in the SJL, Funyon, announces Scott Reid’s entrance.

 

Funyon: This match is scheduled for one fall. Weighing in tonight at 237 pounds…from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania…Scott Reid!

 

Scott stands on the stage, basking in his own glory as he raises the mic to his lips. The fans chant “Franchise” as Reid looks on and smirks.

 

Scott: Chant his name all you want. I beat him once and I’ll do it again. Last time he tried to face me I countered “The Franchise Tag”. It seems like an okay finisher but this time I don’t care if he hits it because quite frankly, I’ll kick out of it.

 

The crowd goes quiet. Reid points at an older fan in the audience and laughs.

 

Scott: And Tampa, what kind of City is Tampa? It’s just a place where old people go to die like Miami. God, I’d continue talking but I’m afraid half the audience will die by the time I get finished!

 

Reid makes his way into the ring and waits for Francis to come out. Funyon get ready and the crowd gets ready as “Down with the Sickness” plays in the background. Blue and White lights flash, as the words ‘Are you Ready’ fly across the smarktron, a digitized voice repeats them. At the part where the band first yells, the digitized voice screams ‘Cause the Franchise is Here’. The smarktron flashes the words 'The Franchise'. This is followed by a blue and white photonegative image of Mak Francis and he comes out. A loud “Franchise” chant breaks out as he down to ringside with Tyler Kinkel, clipboard in hand. He smoothly enters through the middle ropes. Reid moves towards the corner as Francis poses in the center of the ring, while Kinkel sits at the announce table next to Suicide King.

 

Funyon: Weighing in tonight at 225 pounds…from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania…”The Franchise” Mak Francis!

 

King: How are you today Ty?

 

Kinkel: Good…

 

MacPhisto: Wow, straight to the point today. What a shock…

 

Axis: Matthew Kivell, today’s referee checks both men and finds no illegal objects. Kivell asks for the bell as this one on one match-up is underway.

 

Reid and Francis face off in the center of the ring. The two competitors trade verbal insults with neither man backing down. Reid points his finger in Francis’s face and a wary Francis backs off recalling the slap he received last METAL. They start circling each-other as the bell is rung. Francis slides after Reid’s legs looking to take the quick advantage with a single leg takedown but Reid sidesteps and they continue to dance around the squared circle. The crowd is behind Francis but sit on their hands as the two grapplers continue to size each-other up.

 

Axis: A lot of dancing by “The Franchise” against Reid. But Reid is staying with the younger competitor. I think Francis has learned from their last match as Reid took control early and never really gave up the advantage using his ring experience to keep the youngster under control.

 

King: You should really give credit to Reid for taking advantage of them.

 

MacPhisto: No you really have to give the jackass credit but I’ll just say that he won a match he was expected to win. Ruining my cards by attacking people backstage and hitting fans are the acts of a sadist.

 

Reid and Francis move into a collar and elbow tie-up and Scott takes control early with a side headlock. Reid, grinds his bicep around Francis’s head. Francis bounces the two men off the ropes but Reid holds onto the headlock and continues crushing his head. Reid finally lets go of the move as an unruffled Francis only stares at him. He asks Francis if that’s all he’s got and draws a line with his foot on the canvas. The crowd chants for Francis to kick his ass and Francis just stands there staring Reid down.

 

Axis: Reid again taunting Francis and you’ve got to wonder why Francis is acting so calm.

 

King: It must be the quiet before the storm.

 

Francis making the rookie mistake charges at Reid sloppily and walks into a drop toehold for his trouble. Reid stands over him and paintbrushes his head, but Francis calmly gets to his feet and stares him down again. Reid goes for the collar and elbow tie-up but Francis has a different idea as he kicks Reid in the midsection. Francis grabs Reid by the arm and whips him towards the ropes. Reid bounces of the ropes and runs under a leapfrog by Francis but gets caught coming back with a reverse elbow. After flexing his bicep in a pose Francis delivers a standing leg drop. Kivell slides into position and…

 

One…

 

Axis: A strong kick-out at one by Reid. I think Francis was trying to disrespect Reid more than pin him during that exchange as Reid did the same taunt to him last Metal. I wonder how many hours of tape he studied in preparation.

 

King: More hours than you and MacPhisto fritter flogging the dolphin combined…

 

Axis: Could you just shut up and call the match!

 

King: Uh…no? It’s apart of my former World Championship charm.

 

MacPhisto: Geez, what a jackass. Is there ever a time you haven’t said you’re a World Champion after speaking? And on a wholly separate note, why isn’t Kinkel talking? He’s normally a veritable chatterbox…

 

Francis and Reid once again grapple for position but this time Reid locks in an arm wrench putting pressure on Francis’s shoulder as he rotates the arm. He twists the arm again after spinning and yanks down on it for good measure.

 

Axis: Both men seem to be equally matched. Neither man has had the advantage early.

 

Francis trying to free his arm executes a quick forward roll into a headstand flip. With most of the pressure released from his arm, Francis counters into an arm wrench of his own. Reid looks a little surprised as Francis increases the pressure on Reid’s captured arm.

 

Axis:  Wow…

 

Kinkel: Nice counter…

 

MacPhisto: It speaks! For a moment there I thought the King of verbal diarrhea was dead. But, for once you’re right. Francis showed some superb athletic ability by reversing that arm wrench. I knew he had talent but I thought that flip was way out of his scope.

 

Francis kicks at the back of Reid’s knee trying to take him off his vertical base. He succeeds and Reid falls to one knee with the arm wrench still attached. Francis quickly lets go of Reid’s arm and in one swift motion bends his head forward, dropping two successive of elbow’s onto the back of Reid’s neck. Reid breaks up the trifecta by sweeping Francis’s legs out from under him. Reid gets back up to his vertical base cradling his injured neck. Francis just smirks calmly eying his opponent. The two grapplers meet in the center of the ring with Francis looking to tie up again but Reid hits a rabbit punch to the gut taking the wind out of his opponent. Reid quickly hooking on a front face lock drives him back down to the canvas with a high impact DDT. Reid floats over and goes for the cover. Kivell drops to the mat and counts…

 

One…

 

Two-

 

Axis: And a kick-out by “The Franchise”. This match is far from over but both competitors seem to be isolating the neck, head and or shoulder area. It looks like both Reid and “The Franchise” are weakening each-other to setup their respective finisher “The Pittsburgh Plunge” and “The Franchise Tag”.

 

MacPhisto: Francis fell victim to the “Pittsburgh Plunge” in their last match as Reid hit the maneuver out of nowhere. Its such a versatile move that he can connect with it out of almost any predicament.

 

King: Hopefully Francis has learned from the first encounter and will watch out for the deadly finisher. I really don’t care who wins because both men have what it takes to be great like me. Scotty has the viscous streak and skill. Mak’s got the ability and attitude. So, bleed buckets of blood, break some bones and GET ON WITH SHOW!

 

Reid picks Francis by the scruff of his neck and whips him into the turnbuckle with such velocity that Francis rebounds out dazed and primed for Reid’s hard clothesline. Reid steps on Francis’s face while badmouthing him, in the process executing a very cocky pin fall attempt. Reid even rubs his boot on Francis’s face while Kivell starts the count…

 

One…

 

Tw-

 

Axis: And “The Franchise” kicks-out of Reid’s pin fall. I think that was redemption for Francis’s mockery of their last match.

 

King: True, I really wouldn’t want to be a person that pisses Scotty off. He’ll hurt you six ways from Sunday.

 

Francis rolls away from Reid and uses the ropes to get up. Reid just stands in the middle of the squared circle beckon him forward with his index finger. Francis and Reid clash in another collar and elbow tie-up and Reid takes control, whipping Francis into the far turnbuckle. Reid runs in to deliver a clothesline that connects with his adversary’s head.  Reid walks backwards and spins around pointing to the bicep he struck Francis with. Francis suddenly explodes out of the corner like a house of fire. The crowd begins to really cheer for “The Franchise” as he grabs Reid’s head and drives it into the mat with a running bulldog. Francis, breathing hard, slowly picks Reid up and turns him towards the ropes making sure he in the proper position.

 

Axis: That was some fast paced action by our two competitors but Francis seems to be a little winded and is slowing the match down.

 

MacPhisto: I think your wrong there Axis. I sure that business is only just starting to pick up.

 

King: Hey MacPhisto. Got J.R?

 

Kinkel: Watch what happens guys. Mak is about to show you why I call him “The Franchise”. He noticed his opponents’ weakness, which is taunting his opponent, during our review session. He teased Reid into showboating and he finally gave Mak the opening he needed to capitalize on our discovery!

 

MacPhisto: There’s the verbose asshole with the long-winded diatribes we all know and love!

 

Francis dispenses a kidney punch to the lower lumbar of Reid, which staggers the veteran and forces him to bounce off the ropes. Francis catches Reid upon his return and deposits him back onto the mat with a picture perfect Side Russian Leg Sweep. Reid arches his back in pain on the canvas but Francis is not done as he picks a wheezing Scott Reid up again with bad intentions.

 

MacPhisto: Well I have to give him credit Kinkel was right. Nice combination of a Side Russian Leg Sweep and a kidney punch. That combo looks to have forced labored breathing by Reid. That’s a good way to keep control of this contest.

 

Axis: What will he follow it up with is the question?

 

Francis takes the out of breath Reid and picks him up on his side. Francis drapes the small of Reid’s back on his extended knee. Francis lifts Reid up once again exerting a great deal of energy as he lays Reid back across his knee. Sensing that he doesn’t have the oomph to hit a third back breaker, Francis drops him to the canvas, which makes a sudden thud. He instantaneously hooks his arms around both of Reid’s legs and turns him over into a high angle Boston Crab. Reid with one shoulder on the mat and the other arm reaching out to the bottom cable shakes his head no in response to Kivell’s questioning of will he surrender. The crowd cheers “Franchise” in approval as Mak sits on the crab a little more. Edwin and Suicide King look at each-other nodding their heads, as they seem to have noticed something the other two men at the table did not.

 

Kinkel: Now that’s why I call him “The Franchise”! You see that King, Axis and especially MacPhisto! In their first match Mak tried to put Reid away too earlier…Reid had more than enough left in the tank to reverse “The Franchise Tag” into that modified diamond cutter. Mak’s going to wear him down and once he’s been ground into the mat, he’ll end it!

 

Axis: A sound strategy but can the “Epitome of Execution” get the job done and defeat a man that has scored the first pin fall on him in his SJL career.

 

MacPhisto: Rookie mistake…

 

Kinkel: What? Mistake? Everything was set-up perfectly!

 

King: In theory yes but Mak made a mistake…

 

MacPhisto: Although he did well to use that high angle Boston Crab, look at his ring positioning. He’s very close to the ropes…too close in fact. Reid’s resiliency will definitely allow him to fight the short distance necessary to reach the ropes.

 

And right on cue Reid reaches the bottom rope and latches on.

 

One…

 

Two…

 

Three…

 

Four…

 

Kivell: Break the hold!

 

Francis lets go and backs away at Kivell’s request but charges at Reid after Kivell done checking him. Reid, very alert for a man that should’ve been crying out in pain, tosses the running “Franchise” through the second and third ropes. Reid quickly rolls to the outside favoring his back as he lays boots to Francis’s back. Reid picks Francis up and hits Russian Leg Sweep against the guardrail clangs Francis’s head of the steel.  The fans boo as Kivell starts the count out. Reid picks Francis up again and whips him into the ring steps. Francis hits them and flips from the sheer velocity Reid threw him with. Reid thoroughly dominates Francis on the outside by hitting a Belly-to-Back Suplex on the hard floor with little padding.

 

Axis: Reid back in control so quickly after the rookie mistake by Francis. Reid knows how to capitalize.

 

Kivell gets to seven and Reid rolls into the ring and comes back out breaking the count. Reid removes the floor mat and curses out a fan while he kicks Francis in the gut hits a DDT. Reid chats with a fans' attractive wife while Francis lays motionless his head busted open from the DDT. Kivell reaches seven again and Reid rolls into the ring and comes back out to hurt Francis some more.

 

MacPhisto: Reid really wanting to lay into Francis on the outside. You can’t win the match out there so take it in the ring.

 

Reid stalks Francis from behind but receives a low blow mule kick for his troubles. Since it’s on the outside Kivell lets it go but warns Francis. Reid cries out in agony and turns his back to Francis only caring about his hurting gonads. Francis spring to his feet and sets up to deliver “the perfect kick”. Reid partially gaining control of his motor functions turns directly into a superkick from Francis.

 

King: Mak didn’t get the same extension he normally gets on that superkick. He must have hurt it on the ring steps. You have to wonder how that affected the impact of that kick.

 

Francis picks up Reid and drags him towards the announcer’s table. He places Reid on the table and slowly rolls into the ring wiping blood from his eyes and getting it into his hair. Francis climbs the top rope shakily and raises his hands in the air signaling he’s going to fly.

 

Axis: He’s not going to…

 

King: If he would it’d be so cool…

 

MacPhisto: If he does Kivell will disqualify him. Francis do it and you’ll lose your shot.

 

Reid still lies on the table as everyone scatters because Francis has jumped off the top turnbuckle and is flying down in a “leap of faith” elbow drop…

 

CRACK!

 

Axis: HE MISSED!

 

Kinkel: You can’t take it away from him because he missed, MacPhisto…

 

King: Scotty was just playing possum! He rolled out of the way just in time! Unbelievable!

 

After spending atleast 5 minutes on the ground Reid stumbles towards Francis and places his battered body in the ring. Reid not going for the cover picks Francis up and sets up Francis’s fisherman-buster. The half-dead Francis, after getting time to recover blocks by hooking Reid’s leg. Francis punches at Reid’s midsection with his free hand as Reid tries to hit his own finisher on him again. Francis finally loosens Reid’s hold and exerts all his energy into picking up Reid and he basically drops to the match after spending all his energy hitting a “Franchise Tag”.  

 

One…

 

Two…

 

Three…

 

Axis: Reid got the shoulder up! He said he’d kick out and did! Crazy!

 

Francis now out on his feet picks up Reid. He tries to hit his finisher again but doesn’t have the energy. Kinkel runs towards the ring apron getting Kivell’s attention as Reid tired and hurting still has the power to put Francis on the top rope.

 

Axis: [speechless]…

 

Reid drops Francis from the top rope in a “Pittsburgh Plunge” that causes the mat to quiver. Reid goes for the cover but Kinkel’s still handling Kivell.

 

A man in a green mask jumps the railing as Reid realizes what Kinkel’s doing. He stands but receives a pipe-shot the gut from the masked Jacob Helmsley. Helmsley picks Reid up and crushes his head with a devastating Black Stallion, a stalling hangman’s DDT, while Kivell’s backs turned. Helmsley yells some smack before leaving the ring and going back through the crowd. Seconds later Francis’s hand drapes across Reid’s body and Kinkel gets down off the mat. The crowd counts along each time Kivell’s hand hits the mat.

 

One…

 

 

 

 

Two…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three!  

 

Axis: And after a sneak attack from a masked Jacob Helmsley “The Franchise” has won a shot for the SJL TV title. Can someone build us a new table during the break?

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

Kivell bends down and raises Francis's hand only for it to fall directly back over Reid.

 

King: What a match between Scotty and Mak. I mean it was good for them not being me, because I always have SWF World Championship caliber matches.

 

MacPhisto: Wow, Jacob Helmsley told Reid paybacks a bitch and it holds true tonight. I'll give him credit, he had Francis beat for the one...two...three and the title of #1 contender for the TV championship.

 

The match has been over for about a minute now and Reid finally shrugs Francis arm off his chest. He stands up and goes crazy when Kivell informs him that Francis won the match. After complaining about interference, which Kivell states that he didn't see, Reid goes to the outside and grabs his chain from under the ring. He also shoves the timekeeper out of his chair, folds it, and tosses it into the ring. He stalks toward Funyon and demands his mic, which Funyon quickly hands him.

 

Axis: I guess we all know why Reid wanted to keep the match on the outside. Eventually he was going to retrieve the chain and put it around his fist for an added advantage. He just didn't get the chance because Kivell was doing a great job refereeing the match

 

MacPhisto: Too bad Kivell wasn't paying attention when Helmsley's Black Stallion knocked him out. The irony of it all...

 

Reid slides back into the ring irate at the news he's just received. He chases Kivell out of the ring and wraps the chain around his fist. You can see him mouthing words that are not suitable for the younger viewers as Francis starts to stir for the first time since he pinned Reid. Reid helps him to his feet and promptly hits him in the already opened cut from their battle. The wound starts to bleed again as Reid places Francis in the ropes, tying up his arms and proceeds to berates his defenseless opponent. Kinkel tries to come in for the save, but he only gets to the apron as Reid belts him with a head chain-shot, causing him to fall back to the outside half unconscious. Reid brings the mic to his lips as he stares daggers at Francis.

 

Reid: So you’re the Franchise, huh? Is that what you are? I told you before, you’re not the Mecca of wrestling, you’re not even the on the wrestling scope!

 

Reid belts Francis with a stiff shot to the face. Kivell tries to free Francis from the second and third cables but Reid just chases him to the outside. Kivell waves to the back for some help.

 

Reid: Your some no talent jobber sent here to be my whipping boy. This isn’t the amateurs'! This isn't collegiate "sissy" wrestling. This is professional wrestling and you’re in the big leagues now!

 

Reid slaps Francis across the face and follows up with a chain-shot to his gut.

 

Reid: Do you think I won't crush you, son? I've dominated you before, I'm doing it now and I'll own you till the day you die! I'm the real Franchise! Say, I'm the Franchise!

 

Axis: Reid's really verbally abusing Francis!

 

Suicide King: Call it what it is Axis. He catching an old school verbal and physical beat down, courtesy of Scott Reid!

 

Four more referees come to help Kivell untie Francis but Reid hits another straight punch to the face of Francis. As the fans chant "your an asshole", Reid screams for them to "Shut the FUCK up", and takes a swing at one of the refs.

 

MacPhisto: This guys a complete jackass.

 

He hits Francis with another punch and turns to walk away. The referee's finally free Francis of the ropes when Reid returns and lays the steel chair from earlier, flat on the canvas.

 

MacPhisto: I think we all know what's coming here...

 

Kinkel finally up from the devastating chain-shot by Reid, watches Francis's face his the steel chair with a sickening thud that rings out through the arena. The crowd looks on in horror as Reid picks the mic back up.

 

Reid: Paybacks a bitch and your mine "Franchise"...

 

Reid drops the mic and exits to loud boos as Kinkel rushes the ring and takes a look at Francis. Two paramedics come down and help the blood-spattered Francis out of the ring as SJL METAL goes to a commercial break...

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

An opening shot reveals to the viewer the illuminated spectacle that is the exterior of the Ice Palace. Outside, mischievous teenagers throw mentos at several billboards that portray advertisements like: “Saving Private Ryan on Ice! June 23rd!” and “SNK: The Musical! July 4th!” and of course, the inevitable, “SJL Metal! LIVE Wednesday May 15th.” The camera abruptly cuts to the interior of the building where legions of fans are filing back to their seats after a visit to the nacho stands. As the screen pans down to the commentator’s booth, Edwin is conspicuously missing, presumably relieving himself in the restroom. Just as the camera zooms in on the announcer’s Eddie Mac returns to his seat.

 

Edwin: “Yeah! I am the body that rocks the potty!”

Axis: “Um, Edwin, we’re on the air.”

 

Edwin quickly glances at the camera and innocently smiles.

 

Edwin: “Um, I would like to inform the viewers that I am on special medication for my hemorrhoids that makes me say and do things that I usually would not commit.”

King: “Uh huh. That was also your excuse when you gave a dildo to me for my birthday.”

Edwin: “I TOLD YOU! I got my wife and yours presents mixed up.”

Axis: “Well, that explains why your wife got a time bomb for her birthday.”

Edwin (nervously): “Hehe.”

 

An awkward silence devours the three stooges, as King aggressively glares at Edwin.

 

Axis: “Righto, moving along then. We’ve already experienced an abnormally large pillowcase full of action tonight, but that case is about to overflow because up next, a triple threat tables match!”

Edwin: “What a matchup this is shaping up to be Axis!”

King: “Um, are you kidding? T-Bone HAS to be rusty after having two shows off, and both TNT and Ced have had significant losing streaks for quite some time now. This match is going to blow more than…um…a blowfish giving a blowjob to Johnny Depp who starred in the movie ‘Blow,’ in a room full of blowtorches.”

Edwin: “Were they glass blowing too?”

King: “Yes, I would think so.”

Axis: “The only thing that blows are your analogies. This match on the other hand, which pits SJL superstars T-Bone, Ced Ordonez, and ‘TNT’ Taylor Nicholas Thompson against eachother, is sure to be an instant classic.”

King: “Pfft. Yeah, G-String Pole match quality.”

Edwin: “Hey, that was a good match. I mean, Ted Flink returned!”

Axis: “Ahem. We go ringside now to ring announcer Funyon, who will introduce the competitors in this next bout.”

Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen…and Suicide King, this contest is a triple threat elimination tables match! The last man who is not eating wood is the winner. Disqualification and count-out rules do NOT apply! Introducing, approaching the ringside area, 267 pounds of insanity, hailing from the home of the Mighty Ducks (suddenly, an ‘Emilio’ chant breaks out from the crowd,) Anaheim, California, ‘TNT’ Taylor Nicholas Thompson!”

 

The crowd cheers wildly as AC/DC’s “TNT” blares from the speakers. Several strobe lights gloomily illuminate Taylor’s hulking figure as he slowly saunters down the aisle. Just as “Watch me exploooooooooooooooode!!!!!” is heard by the audience, Taylor abruptly picks up the pace, striding fluidly to the ring, with loads of silvery pyro lighting his way. Thompson slides under the ring ropes and immediately hits all 4-corners, yelping out a resounding “KABOOM!” at each of them. As his entrance music comes to a halt, Thompson tests the ring ropes, with his eyes fixed on the entranceway, awaiting his opponents…

 

Axis: “Taylor looks to be in top condition for tonight’s matchup!”

King: “As top condition as a mere Junior Leaguer can be that is. When I was SWF champion of the world, I remember I would work out 27 hours a day to get in tiptop shape for each of my matches…which I would WIN I might add.”

Edwin: “There’s only 24 hours in a day King.”

King: “Um, well, I would work out for 24 hours in New York, then take a jet to Hawaii which was several hours earlier in the day, and work out for an extra three.”

Edwin: “Wow. Now we all know what you were imagining when you sat in the local pub hammered trying to pick up old men every day.”

Axis: “Ahem. Gentlemen, you are SO immature.”

 

Axis gives both a raspberry while yelling “YOU STUPID HEADS!” and honking his nose.

 

Funyon: “Our second competitor in this bout, weighing in at a steak sauce covered 275 pounds, hailing from Sonoma, California, TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!”

“BONG”

 

The first few bell gongs sound in AC/DC’s “Hell’s Bells.” The Smarktron displays images of T-Bone hitting a Tiger Driver '91 on Kojack to win the TV Title which is now possessed by TNT himself, T-Bone accepting the title, and T-Bone spitting out a mist of A-1 Steak Sauce into the camera. Several strobe lights flash blindingly, as T-Bone comes pacing through the curtain as several nearby fans reach out to slap him some skin. Boner struts down to the ring, posing for some Kodak moments along the way. The steak sauce covered bastard enters the ring, and reaches into the pocket of his leather jacket, revealing an A-1 Steak Sauce bottle. He take a swig, gives the crowd a thumbs up showing his satisfaction, tosses the bottle to Edwin at ring side, and then jumps upon the apron, looking to the crowd. Then, in a HHH-esque moment, T-Bone spews the sauce vertically into the air as several cameras flash, enlightening his football-worn physique.

 

Edwin (taking a swig of the A-1 sauce): “Hey, this has some alcohol in it. (takes a longer swig) Gungagalungagungagungagalunga.”

Axis: “How…different is a good way to put it. On the subject of the match however, it is clear that T-Bone’s football background will assist him in this type of matchup.”

King: “What the hell does football have to do with tables?”

Axis: “Funny, I have no idea.”

Edwin (a little hammered, to King): “I love you man.”

King: “Everybody does.”

Edwin: “No no. You’re not catching my drift, I LOVE YOU MAN!”

King: “Um…ok.

 

T-Bone, inside the ring now, approaches the psyched-up Taylor Thompson and shoots him a respectful-yet-aggressive glance. The two’s staring contest is interrupted however, as “Esaka?” starts up, heating up the crowd. The Smarktron plays various archived video footage of Ordonez performing several breath-taking maneuvers.

 

Funyon: “Last but not least, well, maybe least depending on how you look at it, weighing a lean, mean 191 pounds, hailing from San Hose, California, a proud member of XF9, Ced Ordonez!”

 

The tune goes on for a while as the crowd claps to the beat, but they suddenly pop like popcorn kernels as Ced emerges from the depths of the backstage area! Ced bares a broad smile across his face, as he mildly jogs down the ramp, high-fiving some eager fans along the way. The two other competitors eye Ced as he swiftly slides under the bottom rope, and begins taking off his white T-shirt. Ced gets it off, eggs on the crowd a little more, and hurls the shirt towards the outskirts of the ring…suddenly T-Bone snatches the shirt out of mid-air, spits his remaining steak sauce onto it, and tosses it into the crowd, where it safely lands onto a man holding a sign that reads: “Heat is STILL a hobo who lives in chat and smells of old rice.”

 

Axis: “Surely some bad blood between these competitors. TNT not too long ago defeated T-Bone for the television title, and suffered his first loss ever against the team of current SWF champion Ash Ketchum and none other that Ced Ordonez himself.”

Edwin (singing and even more drunk): “Yo ho yo ho! A pirate’s life for me!”

King: “Well, either way, there’ll sure be more than a few splinters gained in this match, I can tell you that much.”

Edwin: “I am the walrus!”

 

***DING DING DING***

 

The three competitors immediately begin barraging eachother with right haymakers at the opening bell. With no man seeming to gain any sort of advantage, Ced changes that by thrusting his feet at TNT and knocking him on his back with a jumping dropkick! The same fate apparently awaits T-Bone, but Bone dodges, sprints off of the ropes, and catches the rising Ced with a viscous spear! Taylor, now fully recovered and on his feet, hurls T-Bone’s 275 pounds of bulk into the ring ropes, and catches him on the rebound with an Arn-y spinebuster! Taylor has a little trouble performing such a feet, as T-Bone weighs a tad over average and shows it. Taylor begins screaming at Boney to stand, but Ordonez blindsides him from behind with a low dropkick, nailing him in the back of the calf! Taylor falls to his knees, holding his leg in anguish, but quickly manages to lift himself off of the mat.

 

Edwin: “99 bottles of beer on the wall…”

Axis: “Jumping jalopies! These men appear to have really cranked it up a notch tonight, as they’re attacking eachother full force!”

King: “They don’t want to waste good ‘ol Mr. Energy though, so they better conserve themselves unless they want to put the ‘-eally tired moron,’ in ‘really tired moron.”

Axis: “What a tactic.”

Edwin: “Meesa Jar-Jar Beenks!”

King (to Axis): “If you don’t shut him up then I will.”

 

All three men standing now, they form a triangle, each opponent about two yards away from the other one. Suddenly, with a quick burst of energy, T-Bone makes a mad dash at TNT, tackling him to the mat and clipping his knee! T-Bone positions himself over Taylor’s lifeless body, and begins throwing rapid punches to his dynamite noggin! Ced, seeing the other two combatants occupied, quietly slithers under the ring ropes undetected, and begins searching under the ring.

 

Axis: “What on Earth could Ced be looking for?”

King: “I don’t know. What could Ced be looking for under that TABLE infested ring that he could use to his advantage in this TABLES match, eh?”

Axis: “Point taken.”

 

Ced hurriedly pulls several objects out from under the ring: a rubber ducky, an easy-bake-oven, a bottle of Coca Cola, and a battleaxe. Ced backs away from his findings, blinking repeatedly, deciding which items to use, with much difficulty; he scoops up all of the items, save the battleaxe, and slides them into the ring.

 

King: “Excellent choice of weapons by Ced. After all, how are you supposed to hurt someone with a battleaxe?”

 

As Axis smacks his forehead in disbelief, Ced rolls into the ring, where Taylor is just planting T-Bone to the mat with a sideslam! Just as TNT lifts T-Bone to perform this feat however, Ced grabs the rubber ducky and slides it under T-Bone’s landing area! With a sickening *squeak* the steak sauce covered bastard is sideslammed onto the rubber ducky!

 

King: “I can’t watch!”

Axis: “Um, it’s a rubber ducky King, it came right off the set of Sesame Street.”

King: “Do you know how many careers have been ended by landing on a rubber ducky the wrong way!”

Axis: “Well…no.”

 

T-Bone holds his arched back in pain, rolling around the ring with a look of anguish on his face. Ced approaches the rubber ducky, lifts it off of the mat, and attempts to make lightning strike twice by pitching the rubbery object right into TNT’s chest! Taylor looks downward, unfazed, shrugs with a perplexed look on his face, and nails his lighter opponent with a stiff forearm to the forehead! Ced goes down like an intern at the Clinton family reunion, grasping at his sore face. TNT enjoys a quick brake, resting against the ropes, but his slouching is interrupted by T-Bone, who shakes up the bottle of Coke, and opens it, right into TNT’s eyes! Taylor stumbles awkwardly around the ring, covering his blinded pupils. T-Bone takes a swig of what’s left of the tasty beverage, and hurls it out of the ring. He advances towards the sightless pyromaniac, delivers a phasing pair of knife-edge chops as the crowd “WHOOOOOOOOO!’s” along, and grabs him in a front facelock! Taylor struggles desperately to escape the inevitable aftermath, but soon falls victim to the move as T-Bone heaves Taylor’s arm over his head, hooks a single leg, and lifts him vertically, holding him in the air as the Japanese press rapidly click away with their cameras. With one hasty act, T-Bone drops Taylor directly onto his skull with a fishermen buster!

 

Axis: “Ouch! That has got to hurt!”

King: “Well actually it doesn’t hurt a bit. I remember when I received that move off of the top turnbuckle onto a 1970 Pontiac Firebird…”

Axis: “That never happened.”

Edwin (still taking swigs of the steak sauce): “Booya! Ced’s gonna walk the walk and talk the talk! (fiddling with monitor) Hey, Sponge Bob is on!”

Axis: “Speaking of Ordonez, where the hell is he?”

 

The commentator’s questioning is put to rest as the camera pans over to Ced, who is furiously searching under the ring for tables. Meanwhile, back inside the ring T-Bone has possession of the easy bake oven, raising it above his head, ready to clobber TNT, who is half-conscious, on his hands and knees…

 

Axis: “Uh oh, what does he have in plan for TNT and that easy bake oven?”

King: “Well, when I was SWF champion…”

 

***STATIC***

 

The screen abruptly cuts to former SJL champion Renegade, dressed in a business suit. Renegade busily straightens his tie and shuffles some papers as he readies himself to speak.

 

Renegade: “Ahem. Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt this broadcast to bring you the first in what is planned to be many additions of…’DARE TNT TO PUT SOMETHING STUPID IN HIS MATCH!’ This show’s dare comes from Xtasy, former SJL Triple Crown Champion. Xtasy asks, (reading from a piece of paper) ‘Hey TNT, why don’t you have T-Bone hit someone in the head with an actual t-bone in your match, and then have Edwin mark out? That would be hilarious!’ Well, enjoy loyal chat-room dweller, enjoy. Until Saturday, ONE MORE TIME FOR THE RENEGADE MASTA!”

 

***STATIC***

 

Axis: “Um, what the hell was that?”

King: “I don’t know. But we can only hope that this random outbreak of atrocity never occurs again.”

Edwin: “Dag yo!”

 

On cue from the mysterious announcement, the easy-bake oven beeps repeatedly, as T-Bone opens the heated container, revealing a t-bone immerged within the oven’s depths! T-Bone grins mischievously, reaches inside, and exposes a one-foot bone or impelling doom! Just as TNT positions himself in an erect standing position, he receives a rude awakening as Boner smacks him in the face with the bone! A deafening clonk-like noise emits from the hubbub, as Taylor twirls around holding his reddened face, still managing to stand.

 

Edwin: “Oh my God! What a move! Coolest move ever! Cool times a trillion! Cool to the seventeenth pow…”

 

Edwin is suddenly interrupted as King smashes the bottle of A-1 sauce over his thick skull. Meanwhile, inside the ring, T-Bone appears to be a bit upset that he couldn’t put Taylor down, but finishes the job with a swift blow to the shin area! He grabs the now bloodied explosive one by his left foot, torquing it in odd ways as he drags Taylor to the center of the ring, where T-Bone begins pretzling Taylor’s legs in an inhumane fashion until…

 

Axis: “T-Bone Stretch! TNT’s legs CAN’T be the same after a move like this. This standing sharpshooter has put a many combatants out of action for weeks.”

King: “And look at that blood flow! TNT MUST have had an aspirin or two before this match.”

 

Just as T-Bone has cinched his devastating hold on to reach its full potential, Ced Ordonez, who has dragged a table into the ring, sets the woody down and blindsides T-Bone from behind with a viscous roundhouse kick to the back of the head! T-Bone falls limply to the mat, drastically stunned by the head shot, as TNT gradually inches away from T-Bone and to the ring ropes, which he uses to prop himself against as Ced quickly sets up a table inside the ring. Taylor stands up to confront Ced, but Ced clips him in the leg, as TNT goes rolling to the outside of the ring! Ced adjusts the table inside of the ring, so that it is pointing towards the entrance ramp. TNT meanwhile, limps over to the ring curtains, ruffles them up, and pulls out a table of his own! Ced looms over the ring ropes, taunting Taylor to return to the ring, as he busily sets up a table outside of the ring. Meanwhile, T-Bone, unbeknownst to the oblivious Ced, is beginning to stir behind him, and begins to stalk up to him from the rear! Ced whirls around just as the Big Bonebowski is about to throw a wild haymaker, and dodges the lumberous tactic!

 

Axis: “T-Bone tried sneaking up behind Ordonez, but this guy belongs to XF9 for God’s sake, he’s the keenest of the keen in the SJL.”

King: “Yeah, as keen as my paralyzed grandmother.”

 

Ced uses his short-lived advantage to its raw potential as he grabs T-Bone, and prepares to break him through a table with his Rock Bottom-ish Final Surge! Just as Ordonez goes for this move however, T-Bone delivers a few elbows to the highflyer, escaping the hold, and Irish-whipping Ced into the ropes! Ordonez hits the ropes, reverberates off of them, and hurdles back towards T-Bone! T-Bone strives to the side, catching his opponent in a full-nelson! Ced struggles relentlessly to escape the hold, but his efforts are revealed to be feudal as T-Bone lifts him off of the mat and begins swinging him around!

 

Axis: “Could this be a release Marinader through a table?”

 

T-Bone swings the lightweight grappler around in full seven circles, before he falls back, releasing Ced in mid-air! Ced soars headfirst into the lumber, but completely clears the table, plummeting over the top rope! Ced continues soaring however, and, lands awkwardly outside of the ring! *CRACK* Coincidentally right onto the table TNT set up earlier! The table shatters under Ced’s weight, or lack there of, and the referee calls for some medical attention as Ced lays unconscious on the concrete floor, surrounded by broken lumber.

 

Axis: “OH MY GOD! T-BONE ELIMINATES CED ORDONEZ WITH A RELEASE-SWINGING-DRAGON SUPLEX!”

King: “Must you shout?”

Edwin: “It’s all between Boner and Totally Not Tubular now!”

 

Taylor, seeing his table broken by the lifeless and frail Ordonez, glances at the prosecutor T-Bone, who is exiting the ring! Taylor thinks fast, and again begins tousling the ring-curtains. He gains a “eureka” look on his face, and reaches under the ring, feeling around for the object of his desire. Just as Taylor unravels a large sheet of poster board from within the bowels of the ring, a thunderous “Put put put” sound is heard. Suddenly, everyone’s attention, including the virtually paralyzes Ced’s, diverts to the entrance-ramp, where Ash Ketchum and Z are descending the slope in a purple golf cart with orange letters painted on the front that spell out, “XF9.” Taylor, witnessing this monstrosity, runs up the ramp, blocking the cart off; he doesn’t halt the vehicle one bit however, as it beeps once, “AOOGA!” and plugs him full speed in the knee cap! Taylor falls to his side, as the cart abruptly discontinues its movement, stopping at the fallen Ced. Z runs up to Ordonez as Ash shouts “Move! Move!” Z grasps Ced’s arm and begins dragging him to the cart, sluggishly placing his carcass within the automobile’s depths. Ash flashes both T-Bone and the injured Taylor a peace sign, screeching “Snoochie Boochies!” at the two dumbfounded competitors, as the crowd eggs him on with a deafening “X-F-9!” chant. Both T-Bone and TNT stare blankly at the entrance-ramp that the previous shenanigans emerged from, and merely shrug, going back to their devious ways.

 

Axis: “Evidentially, XF9 came down to aid their partner in crime back up to his locker-room.”

Edwin: “That’s what I like to see: Larry and Curley helping Moe out.”

 

Taylor, who has slid his desired poster into the ring now, follows the manuscript himself by rolling under the bottom rope. T-Bone awaits him however, putting several boots to the back of his head! The steak sauce covered bastard raises the volatile warrior to his feet, lugging him upright by his streaming dreadlocks.

 

Axis: “Two men, one table. Discuss amongst yourselves.”

 

T-Bone swings with a firm palm thrust, catching Taylor by the jaw and sending him reeling back. Taylor adjusts his chin, and comes fighting back with a kneelift, which sinks right into T-Bone’s tender and prone chest! He leans over, grasping at his torso in anguish. Taylor grabs his arms, hooking them precautiously. He yells to the crowd, who responds with a “T-N-T” chant. With his name echoing throughout the Ice Palace, Taylor smiles broadly, driving T-Bone’s head diagonally into the mat!

 

Edwin: “German suplex!”

Axis: “Um, that was a double-arm DDT Eddie Mac.”

Edwin: “Same difference.”

 

TNT takes this rest time to grab his favorable poster board, and with a smirk cemented onto his face, lays it on top of the already existing table. T-Bone stands erectly, favoring his aching skull with his hand, which is now soaked in TNT’s amply flowing blood. Taylor capitalizes with a quick haymaker to the kidney area, causing T-Bone to lean down once more. Taylor reverberates off of the ring ropes, and comes back with a swinging neckbreaker! T-Bone backs out of the move at the final instant however, with TNT aimlessly blundering to the mat. Taylor falls face first onto the mat, soaking it crimson with his own red bodily fluid. He quickly kips up, not to be kept down for long, and swings at Bone with a short clothesline. TNT whiffs miserably however, and T-Bone scoops him up on his back from behind, locking him in an inverted fireman’s carry!

 

Axis: “Uoh. This usually sets T-Bone’s opponents up for Hot ‘n Spicy! A running burning hammer!”

King: “Crapola.”

 

Taylor quickly flips out of the move, grabs T-Bone in a rear waist-lock, and heaves him over his head with a German…wait, the maneuver is cut short however, as Taylor’s leg gives out from under him, and both men plunder awkwardly to the mat! T-Bone stands up in a flash, and again lifts his opponent up from behind! T-Bone, as Axis mentioned previously, trots half the ring length, and with TNT still in the inverted fireman’s carry, plants him head first into the mat!

 

Axis: “Hot ‘n Spicy!”

King: “Exactly how I like my women…”

 

T-Bone stands, prying TNT off of the mat in the process. He slides his explosive opponent onto the table, which still bares the mysterious poster board.

 

Edwin: “What the hell is that poster anyway?”

Axis: “Hmmmmm…if I can just get a good look at…OH NO!”

King (sarcastically): “Oh, let me guess this time. It’s the periodic TABLE of elements, in a TABLES match! Oh, the irony, hardi-har-har.”

Axis: “Well actually, King hit it right on the nose.”

King: “Um, what.”

 

Both men stand on the elongated hunk of lumber, face to face, TNT remaining in a dazed and confused state.

 

Edwin: “One move could have either of these guys eating woody…wait, did that come out right?”

 

T-Bone punches Taylor in the stomach, grabbing him in a double-underhook Angel Wings position. T-Bone attempts to heave TNT up into a Canadian backbreaker, setting up the Porterhouse Driver, but TNT puts some force into his opponent’s midsection, in sort of a short distance spear. TNT kicks T-Bone in the groin area, entrapping him in a standing headscissors, but T-Bone backs out of the way, and quickly clutches TNT in a belly-to-belly position!

 

Axis: “Here it comes! A belly-to-belly suplex through the table!”

Edwin: “But Taylor escapes the proverbial hug that surely was meant to set him up for his impending doom.”

 

Thompson steps away from T-Bone, dodging a quick right, and nails him in the stomach with a stiff boot to the tummy! TNT seizes T-Bone’s head, shoves it in between his legs, and hooks his arms readying him for…

 

Axis: “Dynamite!”

Edwin: “Pearl River Plunge!”

King: “Tiger Driver ’92!”

Axis: “Well technically it’s a double underhook sit-out powerbomb, but we’re not that anal are we?”

 

With one solid effort, Taylor attempts to flip T-Bone into a powerbomb position, but because of his bad leg, only succeeds in half of his mission, lifting T-Bone vertically upside-down. TNT stresses his muscles several times to bring T-Bone up, but his leg gives out every time. TNT looks at his eager fans, and not wanting to disappoint them, shrugs off the Dynamite attempt, and instead falls to his knees, planting T-Bone’s head through the Table of Elements and through the actual table with a viscous…

 

Axis: “Tiger Driver ’91! I’ve never seen anything so magnificent in the past two days! Knowing that he couldn’t use Dynamite to its full potential, TNT simply opted to dropping to his knees with this feared Japanese tactic. And through the Periodic Table of Elements and a table I might add.”

 

***DING DING DING***

 

The bell rings as an AC/DC tune fires up, bringing a spark of energy to the fazed Taylor Nicholas Thompson. Taylor raises his hand in victory as Tod deKindes rushes down to ringside with pliers in hand to remove the splinters gained in the matchup.

 

King: “Those splinters, they’re a bitch.”

Axis: “What a peachy match. We’ll be back with more Metal, including a submission match for the World Title, with guest referee, the man of the hour, the king of the tower, too sweet to be sour, Thoth!”

Edwin: “Hey, did anyone else notice that there’s an uncanny resemblance between Thoth and Iori Yagami of ‘King of Fighters’ fame?”

King: “Oh please. Thoth’s name is THOTH, there’s a difference right there.”

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

And we're back live on SJL Metal. We go ringside to Commissioner Edwin, The Suicide King, and Axis.

 

"And welcome back to SJL Metal!" Edwin says, "And we're just about ready to..."

 

All of the sudden, Suicide King's cell phone rings. He takes it out of his pocket as Edwin and Axis look on.

 

"...Hello?" SK says, "Oh, hey yo. What's up? Really? Your not? He's not either? Alright. I'll tell him that."

 

::Bleep::

 

"Who was that?" Edwin says.

 

"Oh, that was Poisyn," SK says, "Him and Mafia are refusing to do the match."

 

"WHAT?!" Edwin screams, "This is getting too weird. I'll tell you, folks, by the end of the night, I'll get to the bottom of this, but stay tuned to SJL Metal..."

 

::Fade To Comercial::

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

SJL Metal flashes back from commercial with a camera scanning the packed, wild audience.  People try to shove their signs and faces into the camera as it circles around to rest on the commentator’s table and the SJL’s hearty Three Amigos who reside there.

 

Axis: “Welcome back once again friends to Metal, where next up we have a Triple Threat match of interesting personality clashes.”

 

King: “Why do we have so many damn commercials?  After ever match, every promo, every witty barb by yours truly.”

 

Edwin: “As commissioner I have come to realize that commercials are just an unavoidable part of television and one we must all learn to live with.”

 

Axis: “More commercials mean more money.”

 

King: “Ah…”

 

Edwin: “When you put it like that…”

 

Funyon: (in the ring with mic in hand) “Our next match is a Triple Threat encounter set for one fall.  Now entering the arena at a weight of 170 lbs. and hailing from the City of Angels, Los Angeles, California; Miss Sydney Skyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!”

 

Sky appears at the top of the entrance ramp with the melodic strains of the Verve’s “Bittersweet Symphony” wafting through the arena.  She is lost in her own little world and the crowd’s cheers as a serene smile sits on her face.  The smile gradually fades and is replaced with a more determined look and a narrow stare toward the ring as she gears herself for the match at hand.  Sparkling fireworks of purple, blue and white pop down the sides of the entrance ramp and Sky follows them, making sure to high five as many fans as she can on her way down.

 

Axis: “While Sky looked slightly rusty in her re-debut a few weeks ago, she scored what some might term as an upset victory over the current SJL Television champion on the last Crimson.”

 

King: “Thompson has wrestled on the last three shows without defending the title, including clear losses to Frost and Sky here, but he’s still the T.V. champ.  That doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

 

Edwin: “This is the SJL.”

 

King: (realization dawning on his face) “You know, sometimes I forget.”

 

Sky slides into the ring under the bottom rope and just as smoothly, slides back to her feet.  She gives a mischievous wink at the commentator’s table and then blows a kiss their way.

 

Edwin: (straightening up in his chair and slicking down his hair) “It’s nice to know I still got it with the ladies.”

 

King: “Whatever your ‘it’ is, I don’t want it.  She was obviously blowing that kiss at me.”

 

Edwin: “You wish, you retarded howler monkey.”

 

King: “Why you…”

 

(King throws a loose jab at Edwin that grazes his headset and nearly knocks it off.  Edwin starts slapping his arms wildly at King and he returns in kind.  Axis leans over and separates the two from their preschooler fight.)

 

Axis: “You two just stop it now…it obvious that she was blowing that kiss at me.”

 

Funyon: “Her opponent hails from Easton, Pennsylvania at a weight of 195lbs., he the self proclaimed true plague of the SJL, the In…sane Luch…adoooooooooooooooooore!”

 

Mudvayne’s “Dig” scorches the auditorium speakers in violent counterpoint to the just heard “Bittersweet Symphony.”  The lights blink out and just as quickly blink back on, but are now a sort of dim smoky hue.  The Insane Luchadore appears with his arms raised high in the air and folded over to form a crude, human cross.  The fans reign down boos and IL wouldn’t have it any other way.  He spews a thick cloud of black mist into the empty arena air and is permeates he charges to the ring and slides under the bottom rope.  Sky stands wedged in the upper right corner of the ring watching her opponent intently.

 

Funyon: “And finally from Reykjavik, Iceland at a weight of 296lbs.  He is the number one contender to the SJL European Title.  Ladies and gentlemen, this…is…Frrrrrrroooossst!”

 

The lights are back on full from IL’s intro and Blue Oyster Cult’s “Cities on Flame with Rock ‘n Roll” blasts through the arena.  The camera is focused on the curtain of the entranceway, but Frost is nowhere to be seen.  The crowd’s boos turn to awkward silence.

 

Axis: “This is highly unusual.  We have never known Frost to miss an entrance or a match his whole time here in the SJL.”

 

Edwin: “We are in the Ice Palace, maybe it felt too much like home and he’s off weeping in a beer cooler.”

 

Sydney’s eyes dart up the ring ramp as she wonders where Frost might be as well.  IL catches this brief moment of inattentiveness and cartwheels across the mat to surprise Sky with a back elbow to the chest.  Sky lets out a yelp and IL goes to work on her in the corner with a series of low kicks and high punches.

 

DING DING DING

 

Axis: “Referee Eddy Long isn’t going to wait for the big man any longer and we are under way with only two grapplers out of three in the ring.”

 

After the blitzkrieg of strikes, IL takes Sky by her wrist and attempts to whip her to the opposite corner.  At the center of the ring, Sydney plants her feet solid and reverses the whip.  IL takes the turnbuckle of the opposite corner in the back and slouches there.  Sky does two back flips over and returns the back elbow from earlier to IL’s chest.

 

King: “I’ll tell you where Frost is, he’s probably off smashing windows with his bare hands in frustration.  He’s declared the number one contender to the European belt and he has to sit around for over a week to get his match while “Deathwish” Danny Williams, who Frost beat on Crimson, gets a rematch for the title tonight.”

 

Edwin: “This is the SJL.”

 

King: (more bitter this time) “You know, I guess I forgot again.”

 

Sky spins around to fire two European uppercuts into IL to keep him dazed.  Sydney bends over backwards at the waist and hooks IL around the neck with her feet.  She ranas him out to the middle of the ring and then flips over to straddle him and fire punches into his face.

 

King: “Man that girl is limber.  What I couldn’t do with her, a porch swing and a hula hoop…”

 

Axis: “Please, King, we are still in the family hour portion of the evening.”

 

Edwin: “Yeah, you can’t be talking dirty like that. (slides him a piece of paper) Here, just write it down for me, better yet draw a picture.”

 

IL slaps away Sky’s hands long enough slink his arms up under her armpit and lock his fingers on the back of her head.  Sydney struggles to free herself.

 

Axis: “The Luchadore slaps on some sort of inverted full nelson and I can’t say I’ve seen that before.”

 

King: (lifts his head from writing) “Actually, I have, in going back to the porch swing and the hula hoop…”

 

IL arches his back on the mat, bends his knees slightly and bridges back to his feet while still holding Sky.  He gives Sydney a slight toss in the air, unlocks his fingers and retakes her by the sides of her lower back to drop her to the mat in powerbomb.  He adjusts his feet over her shoulders and holds on for the pin.

ONE

TWO

Sky claps her legs together and rings IL about his ears with her muscular calves to break.

 

Axis: “I tell you, without Frost involved this is shaping up to be a classic cruiserweight contest.”

 

King: “And that’s a good thing?”  (he slides the paper back over to Edwin and he begins studying it)

 

Sky rolls to her right and back to her feet.  IL spins around and rises up at the same time.  Sydney charges with a clothesline, but IL drops down and to his left to trip her up with a drop toehold.  Before IL can clamp an ankle lock on solidly, Sky brings her left foot around to kick him in the face while she rolls over on her back.  IL sways on his knees and Sky draws both of her knees back to double stomp Luchadore in the midsection.  

 

Edwin: (holding the paper up and turning it all different directions) “You should call Stephen Hawkings, because I really think this defies the laws of physics.”

 

King: “That’s why you need the strawberry jam for a lubricant.”

 

Sky reaches back to grab the nearby second ring rope and pulls herself to her feet with it.  IL is halfway to his feet; he is resting on one knee with his head down.  Sky runs to the adjacent ropes to build a little speed.  She pulls up short to grab IL buy his hair.  She lifts him so he is suspended nearly flat in the air and then slams him down face first to the canvas.  The fans roar approval and Sky flashes a quick dazzlingly smile at them while she rests on her knees.

 

Axis: “Sky face jams the Insane Luchadore, to clearly show that any ring rust she might have had is long gone.”

 

King: (he takes the paper back from Edwin’s grubby mitts and tucks it into his right front pants’ pocket.) “It still amazes me to this day to see any woman, Sky, Annie Electric, to take it to man like that.”

 

Sky rises to her feet and runs over to the near corner.  She pulls herself up by the top rope and stands there with the perfect balance, as the fans grow wilder.

 

Frost: “Sydney sets up for a senton splash. (turning to King) I’m surprised at you being so sexist, a woman can do anything a man can do.”

 

Sky leans down into the ropes for a little extra spring and comes flying off, rolling and twisting in the air.  IL rolls over to his left at the last second and Sky is left to ricochet almost a foot off the canvas before coming to rest.

 

King: “Like missing a senton and blowing a match?”

 

IL slips to the ring apron and climbs the near corner from the outside.  He bounces there a few seconds measuring Sky as the crowd hisses disapproval.  Suddenly, Frost appears vaulting over the guardrail from the crowd.  He leaps to the ring apron and shakes the top rope.  IL windmills his arms to keep balance but does a back flip off the turnbuckle to crash down on the canvas on his back.  Frost steps over the top rope to enter the ring and the audience becomes even more violently negative.

 

King: “He’s Heeeeeeerrrrrrr…eeeeeeeeaaaaaaarrrrrrr!”

 

Axis: “It’s hard to say where Frost was or what he was doing…”

 

Edwin: (interrupting) “We probably don’t want to know.”

 

Axis: (continuing) “but referee Eddy Long appears to be fine in allowing him to enter the match late.”

 

Frost roars a scream at the crowd.  He picks IL up by his hair and drags him over toward Sky.  He picks her up by her hair too and the two much smaller wrestlers sway woozily in his grasp.  Frost leans pulls both of them way back and snarls at each one in turn with contempt.

 

Axis: “Double noggin’ knocker coming up.”

 

Edwin: “Double nut knocker.”

 

Sky and IL wake up quickly with their eyes wide and both slip a leg in around one of Frost’s before he can ram their skulls together.  They pull back and Frost loses his grip on their heads and does a split to the canvas.  The audience ‘ooos’ in amazement and sympathy as Frost does his best to hide the pain on his face.

 

Edwin: “Who knew Frost had a dainty, little ballerina in him?”

 

Sky and IL both run back into the ropes nearest them and fly off with seated drop kicks to Frost’s sides.  He teeters to the mat and brings his legs back together.  The other two grapplers roll to their feet and Sky moves to grab Frost.  However, the Luchardore grabs her from behind by her shoulder and spins her around.  He fires to short jabs to her face and launches her into the far ropes.  IL plants himself firm and extends his arm for a clothesline.  Sky ducks under, stops dead and leaps straight up in the air to lock IL with a head scissors to flip him over to the mat.

 

Axis: “Sky once again betters a man with her superior skill and prowess, King.”

 

King: “Sky’s a great wrestler.  I’m not saying anything against her.  But there are plenty of things a man can do that a woman cannot.”

 

Sky clamps down hard on the head scissors on the mat while IL slaps her legs and tries to fight out.  Frost regains his feet and lumbers over.  He pulls Sky to a sitting up position and clamps on a rear chinlock.  IL is able to wiggle to a different angle, but is still held in place by the head scissors.

 

Axis: “A strange totem pole of wear down holds go on in the ring.  And, King, just what can a women do that a man can’t.”

 

Edwin: (piping in) “Pee standing up.”

 

King: “Pull duty on a submarine.”

 

Edwin: “Understand the intricacies of a John Wayne movie.”

 

King: “Contract testicular cancer.”

 

(Axis waves them off with a sigh and goes back to watching the match.)

 

IL wiggles a little more to gain some leverage with his legs.  He bends up at the waist and folds his legs up over his and Sky’s head to catch the leaning over Frost around the neck in a modified head scissors of his own.  Frost grasps for air.

 

Edwin: “They’re going to need some strawberry jam to keep that working.”

 

Frost releases the chinlock on Sky and she slides out from under the two men.  Frost stands straight up with IL hanging to the canvas facing the crowd.  IL tries to rana Frost over, but he can’t get the right leverage.  Frost turns with his back to the corner, puts his hands around IL’s waist and falls back to send him hurtling into the near corner.  Luchadore strikes the top turnbuckle face first and crumples to the mat.  Sky runs to the near ropes while Frost is still lying on the mat, hops to the second rope and flips off backwards to land on the startled big man for a pin.

ONE

TWO

Frost tosses Sky off like a rag doll and his springs to his feet highly agitated.

 

Axis: “Sky could have pulled off a victory right there with the Fallen Star, but Frost is still way too fresh in entering this match long after the bell sounded.”

 

King: “Smart tactic in a triple threat match.  When I was SWF champion and had a triple threat match I would stay home and let my two opponents beat each other senseless.  Then I would call up and have the referee lay the phone receiver on one of the knocked out guys for the victory.”

 

Sky kips to her feet without missing a beat, but Frost takes her by the wrist and whips her into the near corner.  Sydney trips over the outstretched IL and accidentally clocks the top turnbuckle face first as well.  Sky and IL lay in a pile in the corner.  Frost grabs the top ring rope and starts firing kicks down, hitting what who they will hit.

 

Edwin: “Whatever happened to ‘Frosty the Snowman was a jolly happy soul?’”

 

Frost has enough of that and picks Sky up by the sides of her head.  He shoves her skull underneath his arm she lazily stands there while Frost scoffs at the fans.  He picks her high off the mat and drops back to bounce her head off the canvas at a sick angle.

 

Axis: “Ice Pick knocks Sky cold, but Frost inexplicably does not go for the pin.”

 

King: “More punishment to dish out.”

 

Frost takes IL by the back of his head, who was just now stumbling to his feet, and positions the smaller man facing him and off to the side.  Frost takes IL up under his shoulder and readies the Ice Shelf.  As Frost picks the grappler up, IL wraps both of his legs tightly around Frost’s left knee and when the Icelander lets go, they both go tumbling into the ropes.  Frost flops to his face and IL switches to set on Frost’s lower back and unwraps his legs to apply a half crab.  

 

Axis: “While Frost might have the distinct size and strength advantage, the quick cunning of his opponents are keeping both of them in this contest.”

 

King: “Yeah, yeah, David and Goliath, blah, blah.”

 

Sky rolls over to her back still very much out of it, but now starting to stir.  Frost is too close to the ropes and reaches out to grab them to break.  Long pats IL on the shoulder to let go.  He vaults to his feet and shoots Long a mean stare.  Long backs off and IL strides over to Sky.  He deftly picks her off the mat, places her head under his arm and hooks a hunk of her black vinyl pants.  He suplexes her over and scrambles around to hook the leg and make the pin.

ONE

TWO

Frost comes back into frame with a boot to the Luchardore’s head to break the cover.

 

Axis: “This match is such a clash of style and personalities, I think it has all glopped together to make a stalemate.  Oil and water do not mix.”

 

Edwin: “Neither does burritos and rocky road ice cream.”  (Edwin rubs his stomach and makes a sick face)

 

Frost pulls IL up by his right shoulder, only to have the pleasure of clubbing him back down to the mat with huge, overhead forearms.  IL leans against Frost’s knee, breathing hard and mind racing on what to do.  The still dazed Sky crawls to the near corner and pulls herself up by the second rope.  Frost leans down to grab IL by the waist and flips light man up and over to his shoulder.  Frost charges, he squashes Sky as he drops IL face first to the turnbuckle and both wrestlers crumple to a pile in the corner again.

 

Axis: “I get the feeling Frost could truly get the pin on either combatant at anytime now, but he simply won’t go for it.  I have to wonder why?”

 

Edwin: “Why ask why, drink Bud Dry.  On second thought don’t, have you ever had that stuff?”  (Edwin rubs his stomach and makes a sick face.)

 

Frost wraps his hands around both of his opponents’ hair and drags them out to the center of the ring.  He yanks them to their feet and snakes a sinewy arm up under each other their shoulders.

 

Axis: “A double Ice Shelf.  We saw Frost hit this colossal move awhile back in a triple threat match with Tod deKindes and T-Bone.  A message perhaps to the Euro champ he is now chasing of past pain.”

 

King: “Must you read something into everything?  Sometimes kicking ass is just kicking ass.”

 

Frost lifts both wrestlers up with nothing but an arm a piece under their shoulders to support them.  They dangle in the air and Frost laughs at the jeering crowd.

 

King: “He could do that all day.”

 

Axis: “Wasting time on a double team move hurt him before, and we all know that Frost is hardheaded when it comes to alternating his game plans.”

 

Prophetically, IL and Sky rock Frost in the side of his head with an elbow apiece.  He drops both grapplers to the mat with a splat and falls backwards off balance.  He bumps Eddy Long as he falls through the second ring rope and crashes to the floor.  Eddy crashes into the near corner and bonks his head on the second turnbuckle to knock himself out.  

 

Edwin: “What is this?  Axis out analyzes our analyst.  What do we pay you for?”

 

King: “My sparkling personality and the pleasure of not having me kick your ass, now shut up.”

 

Sky and IL both stand up wearily in the ring.  IL looks over to see Frost lying on the just over the lip of the canvas.  He leans back into the near ropes for a push of momentum and comes flying off.  Frost juts his arms underneath the ring apron and pulls out a steel chair.  Luchadore launches himself over the top rope with a cross body to the floor below just as Frost rises to his knees and puts the chair up.  IL smacks right into with a clang and falls to the floor.

 

King: “Here’s some analysis for you, Frost just kicked IL’s ass with a steel chair and now he’ll do it to Sky and they won’t get up, because it’s a friggin’ steel chair.”

 

Sky tries to catch Frost off guard by baseball sliding under the bottom ring rope and into him.  Frost catches her out of the corner of his eye and steps back enough to make her miss.  Sydney sits half in the ring with her legs dangling down its side.  Frost rears back and smacks her in the kneecaps with the chair.  The crowd moans in sympathy and Sky’s body is thrust forward from the blow.  Her head pops out through the first and second ring ropes and Frost pulls the chair back again to pop drill her in the forehead.  Sky falls back unconscious in the ring.  Frost nails IL with the chair twice more in the head and then throws his limp body back into the ring as well.

 

King: “Hey Frost beat Sky with the chair and neither her nor IL is getting up.  How about that for analysis?”

 

Edwin: “You’re still no Dennis Miller.”

 

Frost drops the chair and climbs back in the ring.  He rolls IL over on his back with the tip of his boot, but instead of dropping down for the pin, he reaches over to take Sky by her shoulder and drag her over on top of the Luchadore.  The crowd buzzes with puzzlement as Frost steps over the top ring rope and quietly starts up the entrance ramp to the back.  Long recovers, having not seen anything, and pulls himself over for the…

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

DING DING DING

 

Funyon: (from ringside with confusion in his voice)  “Here is your winner by pinfall, Sidney Skyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!”

 

Edwin: “What in the blue blazes of panda lovin’ was that.”

 

Axis: “ I have no idea.  Frost just rolled Sky over on the Luchadore for the easy victory and left the ring.  We have Ben Hardy rushing our right now to catch Frost at the top of the ramp.  Let’s cut to him to see if we can make any sense of these strange events.”

 

Hardy rushes out from behind the stage curtain as Frost makes it to the top of the ramp.  Hardy runs in front of Frost and shoves the microphone in his face while positioning his body out to face the crowd.

 

Hardy: “Frost, I must say that we are all wondering why you showed up late for this match and just now at the end of it let Sydney Sky steal a victory before then leaving the ring.

 

Frost pulls himself to his full height and towers over Hardy, who gulps and sweats nervously.

 

Frost: “YOU QUESTION FROST? YOU QUESTION WHAT I SEE FIT TO DO?”

 

Frost puts a hand on Hardy’s chest and pushes him across the stage.  Hardy falls on his back and lies their cowering in fear.  Frost picks up the mic wear the interviewer dropped it and then looks right at him, pointing a finger.  

 

Frost: “I’ll tell you why I did what I just did.  I DON’T CARE! This match means nothing to me.  Sydney Sky means less than nothing to me.  The Insane Luchardore means less than nothing to me.  The only thing I care about right now is that European title.  (Frost turns to the camera and leans into it so his face fills the screen) Tod deKindes is afraid of me; he fears the consequences of an Early Winter.  He gives Danny Williams a shot at the title tonight, even though I destroyed him on the last Crimson.  He says that Taylor Thompson is more deserving of a title shot than I am, even though I crushed him to be declared the number one contender in the first place.  Why does he do these things?  BECAUSE HE’S AFRAID! BECAUSE HE’S A COWARD! I dare you to lose that belt to Williams tonight, Canadian.  It would not surprise me to see you throw this match just so you do not have to face me, North American.  But whether it’s you or Williams I get my title shot against, whether it’s you are Williams I have to KILL in order to claim my birth right, my reason for being.  I will walk out of Crimson this week as the European champion.”

 

Frost throws the microphone at Hardy on the floor and storms off to a chorus of boos as Metal eerily and silently fades to break.

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

Axis: Up next, the European title is on the line!! But first, Kevin Cole is with the champion!

 

***Kevin Cole stands backstage with Tod deKindes with his title belt resting on his left shoulder. Alongside him is the TV champ Taylor Nicholas Thompson, standing there for moral support. ***

 

Cole: I'm here with the European champion, Tod deKindes, moments away from your first ever title defense…

 

TNT: First ever title defense, and MUCH MORE to come, Kevin Cole!

 

Cole: Well, that remains to be seen. Tod, it's been documented, you've been suffering from a shoulder injury lately, how are you feeling?

 

Tod: My shoulder is still feeling a little sore, the doctors haven't yet cleared me to wrestle, but nonetheless…I'm ready to shut Danny Williams up for good.

 

TNT: YEAH!!

 

Tod: He's going around saying that I don't deserve it?…Heh, well…I just may have to go out there and prove him wrong tonight.

 

TNT: Prove - him - WRONG!

 

Tod: Oh, and just so you don't try anything stupid, Danny; I got this guy over there who's gonna watch this match very closely from his dressing room. Taylor…I know I can trust you to let me destroy Danny Williams once and for all, by myself.

 

TNT: Todski, you're the champ, you've beaten his ass before and I know you can do it again! If you see me out there tonight, then by God, it's because something MAJOR will have happened…Now if you'll excuse me.

 

***While TNT retreats to his dressing room, Tod throws a quizzical glance to the floor while asking himself the question, wondering what TNT's sudden remark was all about… ***

 

Tod: …Major? 'The hell…?

 

Cole: Let's send it over to you guys at ringside!

 

…

 

Axis: Thank you, Kev, let's take you now to our ring announcer.

 

***As Mark Hebner jogs down the ramp to enter the ring, Funyon raises the mic to his lips, while consulting his notes. ***

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, the following one on one contest is set for one fall…and it is for the SJL Eurooo - pean championship!…(slight cheers)…Introducing first, the challenger…

 

***Dillinger Escape Plan's "Calculating Infinity" fires up on the speakers. ***

 

Funyon: From Louisville, Kentucky…Weighing in at 238 lbs, 'Deathwish'…Dannyyyyyyyy - Williaaaaaaaammms!!

 

***Danny Williams walks out with a slight limp, stemming from his hardcore match against Frost from Crimson. He still finds the time to sneer at the fans in disgust, all while shaking his head in disbelief. He walks up the steel ring steps, throws one more look at the crowd and then enters the ring. After stretching against the ropes, his music slowly fades out; allowing Funyon to complete his introductions. ***

 

Funyon: And his opponent…

 

"SHOOOOOCK!!"

 

Funyon: From Muenchen, Germany; now residing in Toronto, Ontario, Canada…Weighing in at 225 lbs, he is the SJL European Champion…Tod deeeeeeee - Kinnnn - deeeeesss!!

 

***With the arena transformed into a massive rave like atmosphere due to the strobe lights invading the place, Tod slowly walks out and stops under the Smarktron. He pauses to look at the masses, and then resumes his way down the ramp. He slides under the bottom rope, shakes his right arm in plain view of Williams just to annoy him. He opens up his trench coat to reveal the European title strapped to his waist, and then climbs to the second rope to scream to the fans…only Williams immediately jumps him, signaling the start of the match. ***

 

Axis: Look at this! Deathwish is on a rampage!!

 

***As Tod can barely manage to slink out of his trench coat, Williams stomps on him in the corner, with added choke hold for effect. ***

 

Edwin: Come on now, Tod's still wearing the title belt!!

 

***Williams yanks the belt from Tod and walks to center ring, holding it up proudly to a cascade of boos. Meanwhile Tod recovers, waits for Williams to turn around, and spears him down to a huge reaction. He hammers him with quick right hands. Mark Hebner steps in and tries to separate both men, making sure the title belt is safely given to the timekeeper in the process. Both men are now up, but Williams sneaks in a thumb to the eye in order to gain the early advantage. Right hands in the corner by Williams, followed up by an Irish whip to the opposite set of turnbuckles. Williams gets cocky and tries his own corner spear, but Tod lifts up his legs and falls forward into a sunset flip. ***

 

*One!*

 

*Two!*

 

***Kick out by Deathwish. Right hand exchange. Williams quickly grabs a headlock, but Tod frees himself by pushing him to the ropes. Dropdown / hop over / leap frog sequence leads to a hiptoss attempt by Williams. Tod blocks it, and counters with a swinging neckbreaker. Tod bounces off the ropes and connects with a point of the elbow right to the jaw of Danny Williams. Cover. ***

 

*One!*

 

*Two!*

 

***Williams kicks out quickly. He immediately rolls outside and begs off, while Hebner holds back Tod. Meanwhile, Hebner puts on the mandatory ten count. Tod decides he won't have none of it, shoves Hebner asides and then nails a sweet looking pescado onto the helpless Williams. He starts kicking some Deathwish ass around ringside, whipping him into guard rails and smashing his head against the ring steps and announcer's table. Once he's thrown back in the ring, Williams begs off once again, but this time he retakes the advantage with a rake in the eyes and a DDT that puts Tod down. He staggers around the ring to recover from the early beating at the hands of his opponent, and then comes back by dropping an elbow right on Tod's sternum area. He aims another elbow…but instead he'd prefer choking out Tod instead. ***

 

Axis: Come on now, get in there ref!!

 

Edwin: Is Danny Williams trying to get himself disqualified?! That would not be very smart on his part. HE has to beat Tod, Tod doesn't have to beat him.

 

King: He knows what he's doing, don't worry.

 

***Williams quickly goes for the easy target and puts on an arm wringer on Tod, but Tod quickly reverses and flips out of it, sending Williams down with an Irish whip followed by a Japanese arm drag. Irish whip to the corner by Tod, followed up by his patented corner spear. Tod hooks both of Williams' arms and sends him flying overhead with a double underhook belly to belly suplex. Williams staggers to his feet, leading to another Irish whip exchange. Williams puts his head down, in an attempt at a back bodydrop but Tod puts the brakes on, shoves Danny's head between his legs and plants him down with a Bret Hart-esque jumping piledriver. Cover. ***

 

*One!*

 

*Two!*

 

***Williams kicks out. ***

 

Edwin: Notice how both men are attempting early pin falls in this match. They both wanna get through this relatively unscathed.

 

Axis: Yes, both men with looming injuries, it'll be interesting to see which one manifests itself first.

 

***Tod brings Williams to his feet and Irish whips him with authority to a corner. Going for another corner spear, he charges with his shoulder up front…but then Williams moves. Tod crashes shoulder first into the ring post. ***

 

King: AHHH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!! Did you see him crash in the corner!! He hit his shoulder!! What a maroon!!

 

Axis: It's not funny, King! Tod could've reinjured that shoulder!

 

King: Well now I guess Danny Williams has one more advantage to win this match and that, for Tod deKindes, as they say, is TOO DAMN BAD!!

 

***Williams' crosshairs lock right onto that shoulder of Tod's, as he connects with a stiff kick to that very limb. Williams takes control with an arm wringer, to which he follows up by driving his elbow right behind Tod's shoulder. The german grappler quickly tries to retreat to a corner while shaking off the pain but Williams is quickly on him with kicks to the arm. He wrenches the arm using the ropes, only to draw a five count from Mark Hebner. Tod tries a quick comeback, using weak right hands. He manages to send Williams to the ropes, but Williams catches him off guard with a single arm DDT, further hurting Tod's aching shoulder. He holds onto the move, turning into a Fujiwara arm bar in the process. The screaming Tod refuses to give it up, upon offers from Mark Hebner; as he tries to pull himself towards the safety of the bottom rope. ***

 

Axis: He's only a few inches away!! And……What the?

 

***Williams lets go of the hold and pulls Tod towards the middle of the ring, and simply drops a knee with onto Tod's shoulder. ***

 

Axis: What a vicious knee drop by Danny Williams! Tod could be seriously hurt now!!

 

***Grasping onto his shoulder, Tod curls up in a corner. The referee goes to see him and asks him if he wants to continue. Not one to be so easily vanquished, Tod pulls himself up with his good arm and goes face to face with Williams once again in center ring. Feeling cocky, Williams stands in front of Tod and then offers a test of strength. Tod looks around, seeking the approval of the crowd, whom responds with mixed feelings. Tod goes ahead anyway, and locks his left hand with Williams' right hand. He slowly raises up his right hand, as Williams brings up his left; and they clasp these two together as well. Seeing that Tod's taken the bait, Williams proceeds to kick the hell out of him with repetitive boots to the midsection and to the shoulder. Once Tod is on his knees, Williams really cranks on the double knuckle lock, bending Tod's wrists at a weird angle. While the young german screams in pain, Williams yells some trash at him and slaps him down; letting go of of the dual knuckle locks in the process. Stil clutching his shoulder, Tod can barely pull himself up due to his injury, while Williams keeps stomping on him. ***

 

Axis: Williams is simply relentless in there! He doesn't care about winning the title back, he just wants to hurt Tod deKindes!

 

King: You couldn't be more wrong, boyo! It is Danny Williams' TOP PRIORITY to regain HIS European title from that little snot Tod deKindes! He's just gonna teach him a lesson that he's not about to forget! Punish him, Deathwish!! Punish that little nazi!!

 

Edwin: For God's sake, King, Tod is NOT a nazi!!

 

King: I kept hearing him before the show going "JA WOHL, SCHNELL MEIN HERR!! AUF WIEDERSEHEN UND GUTEN MORGEN!!"

 

Axis: Do you even know what you're saying?

 

King: Ja! I mean…yes!

 

***Williams brings Tod to his feet, grabs in a vertical suplex position, he lifts him up…only to bring him crashing back down with a devastating brainbuster. Cover. ***

 

*One!*

 

*Two!*

 

***Tod kicks out. Williams grabs the dazed Tod by the hair and slams him back down with a belly to back suplex. He strolls over to a corner and hops up to the second turnbuckle. After flipping off the crowd, he delivers a flying elbow right in the heart. Instead of going for a cover, he pulls Tod back to his knees, slapping him along the way. ***

 

Axis: He's just toying with Tod!

 

King: It's almost beautiful in comparison! Danny Williams knows that Tod has no chance and thus…he is taking his sweet old time taking apart the german Wunderkind.

 

***Williams once again yanks Tod to his feet using his hair, traps his right arm behind his (Tod's) back and slams him down with authority using a hammerlock slam. Although his arm is killing him once again, Tod is still trying to get to his feet. One step ahead, Williams crosses the ropes, climbing up to the top turnbuckles. He awaits for Tod to get into position, and then connects with a precision perfect missile dropkick. Lateral press for the lax cover. ***

 

*One!*

 

*Two!*

 

***Shoulder up by Tod. Williams kicks Tod in the bad shoulder for good measure and walks around, taunting the booing crowd. He raises Tod to his feet, scoops him up on his shoulder, giving out a Thumbs Down sign. He drives Tod down to the mat with a vicious shoulderbreaker and then follows it up by clamping on a cross armbreaker. ***

 

Axis: Deathwish's strategy is clear now! He wants to further reinjure that arm and get the submission victory!

 

King: Further reinjured?! His arm is shot all to hell, Ax! I think James Andrews is gonna get a visitor this weekend! I hear he's gonna help him rearrange his stock. You know what Tod's gonna tell him?

 

Axis: What's that, King?

 

King: Can I give you a hand? AAAHHH - HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!

 

Axis: Good Lord…

 

King: …Ahhh, I kill myself…"Give you a hand"…Hee hee hee…

 

***Tod tries his best to roll around, trying to keep his hands clamped together, trying to get his feet to touch the ropes; but Williams is maintaining a solid grip on the submission hold. Williams decides once again to release the hold, choosing to deliver more punishment on the champion. ***

 

Edwin: It is NOT looking good for the European champion! He barely has had any offense!

 

King: Well, Edwin, it was Tod's responsibilty to accept this match. It was his duty. He had to shoulder those responsibilities…Shoulder…AHHH - HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!! Get it? Because of his shoulder!! It's injured!! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!

 

Axis: Suicide King, wallowing in the misery of others as only he can; meanwhile Danny Williams is taking it to the European champion!

 

***Williams picks up Tod, still by the hair, and Irish whips him to a corner. He times his steps, and then scores with his patented handspring back elbow smash, hitting Tod right in the face. He quickly capitalizes and brings down Tod with a Northern Lights suplex, bridging the hold into a pin. ***

 

*One!*

 

*Two!*

 

*Thr--…

 

***Kick out by Tod. Williams doesn't let that kick out bother him however, as he grabs Tod in another arm wringer. He runs and hops over the top rope, and landing feet first on the outside mats, snapping Tod's arm against the ropes in the process. ***

 

Axis: Shades of the Macho Man Randy Savage! That move is vicious, especially from a wrestler the caliber of Danny Williams!

 

Edwin: He could've broken his arm there!!

 

***While Williams slides back into the ring, Mark Hebner steps in and orders him to wait in a corner while he checks on the fallen Tod. It seems as if the match is temporarily stopped. ***

 

Axis: Folks, it looks as if referee Mark Hebner has paused the match here. Tod deKindes looks to be seriously injured.

 

***While Edwin throws down his headset and raises from his seat to get a better look, Taylor Nicholas Thompson is seen walking down the ramp and into the ring. ***

 

Axis: There's TNT, the Television champion. No doubt he's here to check on his friend. We're sorry about this, folks.

 

***In the ring, Thompson tries to persuade Tod to just quit the match right there and live to fight another day. Meanwhile, Williams is impatiently pacing around. He grabs the mic from Funyon's hands and speaks. ***

 

DW: Hold on a second here…I came here tonight to kick a german son of a bitch's ASS tonight and then TAKE BACK *MY* European title in the process!! But now…you're telling me he's too hurt to even continue?! That's CRAP!! You (pointing to TNT) you got no business here whatsoever, so TAKE A HIKE and let me win my belt back! You! (pointing to Mark Hebner) Either get this piece of crap back up on his feet so I can resume kicking his ass… or just call off the match right there and award me MY…European title!!

 

***Thompson has heard enough and gets in Williams' face. ***

 

Axis: Hold on, these two are gonna go at it!!

 

King: Hey, that's not his match! TNT needs to get the hell out of the ring and mind his own damn business!!

 

***TNT and Williams exchange a few shoves, but Mark Hebner steps in before anything can happen. Williams once again speaks. ***

 

DW: Just what I thought…Now referee…you do your damn job, go out there, and GIVE - ME - MY - BELT - BACK!

 

***Hebner tries to protest it, but he eventually relents, heading towards the timekeeper. ***

 

Edwin: No come on, not this way!!

 

Axis: Wait a second!!

 

King: No!!! How is it possible!!?!

 

***Tod musters up all his strength and rolls up Williams from behind. Hebner quickly scurries back into position. ***

 

*One!*

 

*Two!*

 

***Easy kick out by Deathwish. While Thompson exits the ring and remains at ringside to cheer on his friend, Williams complains to Hebner about a bit of a fast count. Tod, opportunist that he is, simply rolls him up again. ***

 

*One!*

 

*Two!*

 

***Another easy kick out by Williams. This time, Williams unleashes a barrage of fierce kicks to the midsection and shoulder of the fallen german grappler. Williams brings Tod to his feet, screams some more insults at him and grabs on a waist lock. He lifts him up and drives him down with authority with a devastating german suplex. Hebner gets in position to count a pinfall, but Williams decides against it for now. He raises Tod to his feet once again, and grabs another waist lock. He repeats the german suplex, still not opting for a cover. Scratch that, here's the lateral press. ***

 

*One!*

 

*Two!*

 

*Thre…--

 

***Tod raises his fist to the crowd, letting them know that there's still some life left in his body. Hard bodyslam by Williams sends Tod back down. He goes over to the apron and scales up the turnbuckles. He points a menacing finger at Thompson at ringside, and dives off, aiming a flying elbow…but Tod moves!! ***

 

Axis: Nobody there!!

 

***Tod crawls over and throws an arm on top of Williams. ***

 

*One!*

 

*Two!*

 

***Both men stagger to their feet, exchanging right hands to the side of the head. ***

 

Edwin: Those right hands that Tod is throwing, it's gotta ache, each and everyone of them. He's usually right handed, so he's going on instinct.

 

***Williams ducks a right, kick to the gut, he grabs a front facelock, lifts up Tod and PLANTS him with a huge high angle DDT. He lets the crowd know that he's finally done, and climbs up to the top rope, facing the audience. ***

 

Axis: What is he gonna try now?

 

King: Come on, Deathwish. Don't do anything stupid now…

 

***Williams flies off with a picture perfect moonsault, only Tod moves again! Williams had THAT move scouted however, and landed on his feet. Only a quick shooting pain in his ankle reminds him of a recent injury… ***

 

Edwin: He landed on that bad ankle!!

 

King: No!!! Come on, get up, Danny!! Get up!!

 

***While the crowd explodes at this new development, Williams is on the mat, clutching his ankle in pain. Tod seizes the occasion and gets to his feet. He smacks the kneeling Williams in the face with a seated dropkick and drops an elbow on him. Still trying to shake off the pain in his arm, Tod retaliates with weak right hands. Irish whip exchange, leads to Tod driving down Williams' head to the canvas with a scintillating Death Valley Driver. He heads up to the corner, and gingerly climbs up to the top rope. He lets out a mighty roar to the fans (the one he didn't get a chance to complete earlier) and connects with a bee yoo tiful Swanton Bomb onto the prone Williams. He leans backwards, into a cover position. ***

 

*One!*

 

*Two!*

 

*Thr.---

 

***Williams gets his shoulder up. Another Irish whip exchange. Williams ducks a few oncoming attacks while quasi-limping / running the ropes but at the third turn, he eats a standing sidekick right in the mush. While Thompson cheers him on at ringside, Tod feels that the momentum is shifting back to his side. He grabs his own waist lock on Williams and goes to lift him up, but Williams quickly grabs hold of the ropes, preventing the move from being executed. ***

 

Edwin: No doubt Tod was going for that backdrop driver again. This move is what led him to the path of victory last week when he won the European title.

 

***Tod instead forearms Williams in the back and grabs him in the vertical suplex starting position, setting up the Sara Sequence. Snap suplex is executed flawlessly. Tod, still holding Williams, waits a few seconds to catch his breath and then muscles Williams back up. Step #2 of the Sequence is also well executed, as Williams is dropped face first on the mat. Tod strains out one more effort and lifts up his opponent one more time, completing the Sequence by dropping Williams stomach first across the top rope. He heads to the apron and punctuates that whole bit with a springboard leg drop right across the back of the head. Cover by Tod. ***

 

*One!*

 

*Two!*

 

*Thr…

 

***Foot on the ropes. Both men are up to their feet, albeit gingerly and staggering. Tod counters a whole other Irish whip exchange bit with a kick to the gut and a solid DDT. Hebner's mandatory ten count ends up being useless, as both men end up getting to their feet around the 8 mark. Headlock reversal spot leads to another waist lock by Tod. Williams tries to backflip out of a german suplex attempt…only to land on his bad ankle once again. Tod capitalizes, grabs hold of Williams in a front facelock, throws his arm up over his (Tod's) head, spins him around in a neckbreaker position, moves his (again, Tod's) arm over Williams' head and crashes down with a modified neckbreaker. ***

 

Axis: Cerebral Driver!!! This could be it!!!

 

***Tod is a little slow to cover, but he eventually puts on a lateral press for the cover. ***

 

*One!*

 

 

*Two!*

 

 

*Thr…

 

King: NO!!!…*Whew!* , so close!

 

***Tod pounds the mat, flustered as to why one of his finishers didn't work. That trail of thought quickly changes however, as Tod sends a cut throat signal to the crowd, signaling for the Spirit Breaker. ***

 

Axis: As this crowd is getting on their feet, Tod deKindes is getting set to finish things off and retain his European title!!

 

***Tod grabs Williams in the pumphandle position and scoops him up on his shoulder. However, Williams manages to coutner and slide out of the move attempt, making sure to land on his GOOD ankle; and then he shoves Tod right into Mark Hebner. ***

 

Axis: And the referee is down!!

 

***Williams surveys the situation, sees Tod down, he sees Mark Hebner down. He rolls out to ring side.  He throws a few more insults towards Thompson and then snatches the European title belt away from the timekeeper. ***

 

Edwin: What's Danny Williams gonna do with that belt?!

 

***With belt in hand, Williams stands poised and ready, as Tod is getting up to his feet. Once Tod is into position, Williams NAILS him with the belt, right between the eyes. He throws the belt out of the ring (into the hands of TNT) and shoves Mark Hebner around so he can get up. Once Hebner shows some signs of life, Williams goes over to Tod and puts on a lax cover. ***

 

King: Wee hee!! The title is coming back to the Danimal!!

 

*One… *

 

 

*Two… *

 

 

*Thr…

 

Edwin: NO!!!

 

King: WHAT?!!

 

Axis: Out of pure instinct, Tod deKindes threw his arm into the air, avoiding being pinned!!

 

***Williams pounds the mat in frustration and shoves Hebner right back down on his ass. Meanwhile, armed with his own TV title belt, Thompson decides that he's had enough of seeing his friend being abused in such a manner, and he slides into the ring. His stare is drilling holes into his former mentor, as TNT clutches his belt tightly with both hands, ready to swing it with a mighty rage. ***

 

Axis: The tension is running high here in the Ice Palace!! Former mentor and apprentice standing face to face, who's gonna strike first?!

 

Edwin: Williams is DARING TNT to hit him!!

 

***All this time, Tod is slowly making his way back up to his feet. Thompson rears back with his title belt and swings… but Williams calmly steps aside so Thompson can hit Tod right in the shoulder!! ***

 

Axis: What in the hell is this?!!!

 

***Tod crumples to the mat in a heap, while the crowd is quick to turn on the TV champion. Williams and Thompson exchange evil grins…Thompson has a few words for Williams… ***

 

TNT: He's aaaaaaaall yours!!

 

***Thompson heads out of the ring and slaps Hebner awake, while Williams hooks on his patented and painful crossface chicken wing, with body scissors. Tod, all while screaming in hellish agony, tries his best to resist it, but it's a battle he's losing quickly. Capable of seeing when a man's had enough, Mark Hebner decides to put an end to this and calls for the bell. ***

 

King: Ohhhh YEAH BABY!!

 

Axis: This is SICKENING!!…Let's get the official word…

 

***Hebner is seen conferring with Funyon for a few seconds… ***

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen…the winner of this bout as a result of a submission…and NEEEWWW (boos) …SJL European Champion…'Deathwish', Dannyyyyyy Williaaaaaams!!

 

Axis: Taylor Nicholas Thompson has showed us his true colors, folks…And it's cost Tod deKindes the European title. Come on, enough, dammit!!

 

***Williams and Thompson aren't done as they viciously stomp and do a number on Tod after the match. As the bell starts ringing a million times, Williams picks up Tod in an inverted belly to belly position…and DRIVES him down with a sitdown tombstone piledriver. Thompson ascends to the top rope, yells out a mighty "F*** YOU!!" instead of his usual "Kaboom!" and comes crashing down with his devastating top rope elbow drop. Meanwhile, Suicide King is having a ball calling all this. ***

 

King: SHELL SHOCK by the SJL WORLD TELEVISION CHAMPION!!

 

***Williams yanks the lifeless Tod to his knees, shoves his head between his legs and murders him with a Tiger Driver '91. ***

 

King: TIGER DRIVER '91 by the NEW European Champion Danny Williams!!! Tod deKindes, the *FORMER*, and I stress *FORMER* champion is now legally DEAD!!

 

***Thompson, while sitting on the top turnbuckle, shouts instructions at Williams. He brings the limp Tod over to Thompson, as he scoops him up on his shoulder. He puts him into position and absolutely PLANTS him with a super tombstone piledriver! Trash starts filling the ring. ***

 

Axis: And WHAT a tombstone by the Television champion!!

 

***As the champions collect their respective belts, Williams lets Thompson know that he's had enough…except maybe for another kick to the shoulder, just to be dicks. Raising their belts high and proudly, they raise each other's arms, while leaving to the intense reaction from the crowd. While referees and paramedics fill up the ring, the duo watches them gleefully from the ramp. As the EMT's starts to load up Tod on a gurney, Williams orders "One more!" to Thompson. TNT rushes back in the ring, shoves a few people aside and yanks up Tod to his feet again. He brings him to the ring apron and shoves his head between his legs. ***

 

Edwin: No, don't tell me he's gonna…

 

***He lifts up Tod as if he were a child and POWERBOMBS him from the apron to the floor. ***

 

Axis: He's had enough, come on guys!!! Get some help out here!!

 

King: This is absolute carnage, the way it was MEANT TO BE, here in the Junior Leagues and my two colleagues just can't seem to handle it!! And I've said it before, that is TOO - DAMN - BAD!! The rightful European champion has reclaimed his title and now somebody is paying for it!!

 

Axis: How could you say that??!

 

***While Williams and Thompson finally take their leave to a smattering of boos, the EMT's finally secure Tod on a gurney and manage to wheel him out. While the stunned crowd watches on, Axis throws down his headset in disgust. ***

 

Edwin: People don't need to see this, let's just cut to a commercial break, ok? Cut it!

 

King: No way, this is great, this is…--

 

***King is quickly cut short, as the screen fades to a black…followed by a upcoming dates ad. ***

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

The fans rush back to their seats awaiting the World Title Match.

 

Axis: Hey welcome back folks to the main event, at the Ice Palace, here in Tampa Bay. The world title match is on the line between the champion Ash Ketchum, and Tom Flesher.

 

King: Ash shouldn't be champion.

 

Edwin: Why?

 

King: He just shouldn't, damn it! Tom is a more deserving champion.

 

Axis: Well this-

 

Before Axis could finish the lights go completely out.

 

Edwin: I guess they want to start this early.

 

The lights are still off as the Smarkscreen shows up a figure sitting in the black chair.

 

Edwin: Who the hell is this?

 

The person pulls up his chair into the light, revealing his face...

 

Axis: IT'S XERO!!!

 

Edwin: He's suspended, yet he still shows up!!! I'm pissed.

 

King: Xero has balls to show up after what he did towards Jacob Helmsley in that Inferno match on Crimson.

 

Xero: [deep voice] You know, what happened on Crimson was no accident. It was a statement. Jacob was the first to feel my wrath. After that night, vengeance is what I wanted. I wanted to put fear when they see me. Jacob will now look at me as a sadistic bastard, not a person to be like.

 

Axis: Where's Xero going on this rant?

 

Edwin: Security find Xero.

 

Xero: Hah! Nice try Edwin. You can look for me in the Ice Palace, but you know what...I've got some more beef.

 

"Fear of the Dark" by Iron Maiden is blasted through out the Ice Palace, as Xero walks out from the back. Xero emerges with a Florida Panthers Hockey Jersey on. The fans boo loudly at Xero, as he walks on over towards the ring with a mic in hand.

 

Axis: Xero has something to say, but he's really stretching the limit here. Actually emerging in front of the commissioner that gave him the suspension.

 

Xero steps into the ring, and stands in the middle of the ring. "Fear of the Dark" fades out as of bunch of chants say "Ash!". Xero stands still listening to the crowd chant for Ash.

 

Xero: Hello, Tampa Bay!

 

Xero gets cheap pop.

 

Xero: Home to the Tampa Bay Lightning, Tampa Bay Devil Rays, Tampa Bay Buccaneers, and of course, the SJL Champion, Ash Ketchum.

 

The crowd cheers loudly for Xero after those remarks.

 

Xero: The city of losers!!!

 

Crowd begins to boo again, and starts to throw drinks and crumpled paper towards Xero.

 

Axis: The fans really despise Xero.

 

Xero: So, I've been thinking. After I did to Jake...it felt. really nice.

 

Asshole chants begin to start.

 

And even though I'm suspended, I still have the balls to come out and speak to you. Its concerning my title match.

 

King: His title match?

 

Xero: You see, I am scheduled to face the winner of Tom Flesher-

 

More boos are being shouted.

 

Xero: Or Ass Ketchup.

 

Boo's are even louder than before.

 

King: Ass Ketchup, thats a good one.

 

Xero: While you and Flesher fight about destroying each other's car, playing pokemon, and dwildling your thumbs and what not, I have something for the both of you.

 

Xero reaches down into his pocket pulling out a little remote control.

 

King: Is that some DVD Remote?

 

Xero: In my hand is a nice little remote that I got from some illegal immigrants from Japan. As you can see this remote has two buttons.

 

Edwin: On and off?

 

Xero: This button is for Tom's lovely Ford Mustang. This green button is for something more drastic. This green button is for the X-Force 9 Tour Bus. Each one of them has a few packages of C-4 in it.

 

Axis: C-4!?!!? What the hell is he doing?!

 

King: We get to see some fireworks tonight.

 

Xero: Now show a picture of Tom's car, beautiful car. Since this is a Ford I have to destroy it immeditly. Ford sucks.

 

The smarkscreen shows the Ford Mustang in the parking lot. Xero presses the blue button, as the Mustang gets blown to bits, shattering the car into thousands of pieces. The fans cheer for the flaming wreckage of Tom's car.

 

Xero: Now towards, the tour bus.

 

Edwin grabs a mic, and starts heading towards the ring. Xero quickly turns around and sees Edwin climbing into the ring.

 

Edwin: What are you trying to prove here? For god sake damn it, you are allready suspended, yet alone your title shot is at stake already.

 

Xero: You know what Edwin? I'm making a point. By nearly inciterating Jake's face off, that was a statement.

 

Edwin: A statement for what?

 

Xero:  A statement that I am no wrestler to around. I proved that on Crimson. What you saw to Jacob Helmsley was just a minor incident. I am the most deserving person to win that World Title. You've been holding me down! Instead you want to push Pokemon Ass Ketchup, and some stupid newbie, who some how got lucky winning the god damn button.

 

Edwin: Hey now...

 

Xero: SHUT UP!!!

 

Edwin looks shocked as Xero tells him off.

 

Xero: You want, Ash in Midnight Carnival, don't you? DON'T YOU?!

 

Axis: I have never seen Xero so frustrated at anyone in my whole entire life.

 

Edwin: Maybe...what's your point?

 

Xero: You want him in the WF, so he could help your little gay ass stable, but letting me rott in this hell hole down here. I've busted my ass day in day out, and yet I have seen so many of my friends that I have made back stage, gone to the WF, and had a great legacy. Mark Stevens, Jay Dawg, Divefire, Grimedogg, Cyclone Comet, Suicide. You want me to suffer down here, even though I am better than this whole damn Federation combined.

 

Edwin walks closer towards Xero.

 

Xero: Don't even step near me, or this bus will shatter in a million pieces.

 

Edwin: If you shatter that bus in a million of pieces, I'll shatter your dreams in a million of pieces. Winning the SJL World Title Belt, and finally getting up into the SWF, where you should be right now. Go ahead. Push the button.

 

Axis: Edwin is tauting Xero to push the button.

 

Xero hesitates, as he doesn't know what to do. Xero looks around, as he snaps the remote in half.

 

Edwin: Good...good. Now get lost!

 

Edwin turns around and heads back towards the commentary table. Xero taps on Edwin's shoulder forcing him to turn around. Xero with the mic in hand, whacks Edwin right across the face, knocking him out cold laying in the middle of the ring.

 

Axis: XERO JUST LAYED OUT THE COMMISSIONER!!!!

 

King: Xero is really pushing the limits here folks.

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

…And we’re back! The thunderous roar of the Florida crowd tears through the Ice Palace, as we come back from commercial! The camera does its patented spin around the arena, not forgetting to catch a glimpse of the most eager fans, the ones with the most creative signs, and taking an extra long moment to stare at a rather… endowed… blond girl as she bounces around. Finally, the camera settles back on the announcers table…

 

Axis: “Oi! Oi! Oi! And welcome back to Metal! Live from Tampa, Florida!”

 

King: “The *worst* place to put any sports team ever, period.”

 

Edwin: “Dang, I wish I could argue with you…”

 

Axis: “But a considerably better place for wrestlers to be born! Indeed, in the main event, hometown boy and JL World Champ will defend his title against Tom Flesher in a submission match!”

 

King(dripping acidic sarcasm): “Darn, Axis, no gushing over how Ash finally realized his boyhood dream? I’m *crushed* that you’ve decided not to shill for once in your announcing career.” (scoffs) “What happened to you, Axis? You’ve gone nowhere but down since your retirement. Tch, tch…”

 

Axis: “Because *you’ve* just had such a wonderful run since quitting, right?”

 

King: “Correctamungo, my Aussie buddy! My official list of achievements is longer than Ric Flair’s career, but I’d say this is a good summary…” (King tugs at the corner of his white leisure suit, revealing the shiny deputy commissioner star)

 

…

 

…

 

Axis: “Edwin?”

 

(Edwin folds his arms over his chest and turns his back to the table)

 

Edwin: “I am no longer speaking to the Suicide King. Axis, be a dear and tell him that the Carnival shall have sweet revenge, and that his mother smells of elderberries.”

 

Axis: “Um… Well, I guess that--”

 

King(hmph!: “Well, if Eddie wants to be that way, then *I’m* not speaking to him either! Axis, tell Edwin that I will not only crush the MC like so many plastic cups, that also my mother does NOT suck. However, Edwin’s girlfriend sucks better than--”

 

Axis: “ON THE AIR! Christ, you two are being so childish. Edwin, why can’t you--”

 

Edwin: “Hmph!” (Edwin blows a raspberry at King -thbbbt!-, then turns around in his chair.)

 

Axis: “King, please, why won’t you--”

 

King: “Harumph!” (King assumes Edwin stance.)

 

Axis(shooting looks to either of them, then…): “Sigh. Well, since my two compatriots aren’t going to co-operate, I guess I’ll do this myself. This next match is a Texas Bull Rops Match, between Flexxx and Z. It’s like a regular strap match, except--”

 

King(interrupting): “Except it’s named stupidly because Edwin is a stuffed shirt fool that doesn’t know geography.”

 

Axis(irritated): “Yes, well, anyway… Flexxx and Z have met previously, about a week ago. Although Flexxx won, Z actually *dominated* most of that match. It should be interesting to see how that plays out here…”

 

As fans eventually calm down, Zach de la Rocha's unusually creepy voice echoes in a low, ghostly volume throughout the arena. "Born as Ghosts" by Rage Against the Machine plays, and the crowd washes the arena over with a wave of heat! A video of Flexxx's Golden Gun flashes on the SmarkTron, as Flexxx tears aside the curtain, walking onto the ramp. He holds his arms up, forming his hands into a diamond… then breaks his hands apart, signaling a huge yellow stream of pyro to fly into the ramp and explode… three times!

 

**BOOM!**

 

**BOOM!**

 

**BOOM!**

 

Funyon: “The following match, scheduled for one fall… is a Texas Bull Rope Match! Introducing first, from Rochester NY… Flunkmasta’ FLEX-EX-EX!”

 

From within the yellow smoke created by the explosions, Flexxx twirls around his kendo stick and calmly walks down the ring. The fans lean over the safety rails, spewing obscenities and throwing plastic cups and stale arena hamburgers at him. He brushes the fans off like dust, stepping up the steel stairs and walking to the centre of the ring, mounting all four corners and doing the split finger ‘victory’ taunt.

 

King: “Look at that man, Axis! Intensity unrivaled by any other competitor in the SJL! Charm and suaveness not seen since my best days! A physique chiseled from granite!”

 

Edwin: “Axis, tell King I didn’t think he was into that.”

 

Axis: “King, Edwin says that--”

 

King(growls): “I heard him! I HEARD HIM! Yeesh… anyway, where was I? Oh yes… as I was saying, this man should be fighting Ash Ketchum for the world title, not facing milquetoast Z in stupid gimmick match that’s NAMED IMPROPERLY.”

 

King shakes his head in disgust… as the cheery pop sounds of Faith No More’s ‘Epic’ funks through the Ice Palace! King’s audible groan grows through his mic, as the crowds audible appreciation grows through the arena, as Z makes his appearance on the top of the ramp!

 

Funyon: “And his opponent! From Trenton, New Jersey! Weighing in at 229lbs… ZEEEEE!!”

 

The crowd continues cheering as Z shuffles down the ramp, eyeing the ring warily. Flexxx grins. Z shudders. Z does his trademark salute, spinning on his heel less than enthusiastically. Finally he rolls under the bottom rope, pacing anxiously.

 

Axis: “Coming off of a tough loss to Insane Luchadore on Crimson, Z’s been mired in a bit of a slump lately, that being his third loss in a row.”

 

King: “Better make that four, Axis! I’m not wrong very often, and I have serious doubts that Z can triumph over Flexxx in this kind of match.”

 

Axis: “Well, King, you’ve had problems predicting Z’s wins and losses in previous matches…”

 

King: “Bah, those were those stupid tarot cards, Axis! I’ve switched to a far more reliable method…”

 

Axis: “Really? What is it?”

 

King: “This crystal ball! The man at the mythical garage sale assured me of its accuracy!”

 

King plunks a large crystal sphere on the table, much to Axis’s chagrin. Meanwhile, referee Eddie Long gathers Flexxx and Z in the middle of the ring, explaining the rules. As both men nod in acknowledgment, he takes the long piece of thick rope, securing one end to Flexxx’s left wrist, and the other to Z’s right wrist. Taking a step back, he signals the timekeeper…

 

**DING!DING!DING!**

 

…and Eddie suddenly jumps out of the way as Z runs as best he can, trying to get away from Flexxx! Nonchalantly, Flexxx grabs the slack of the rope, and gives it a yank, causing Z to be snapped to the ground as he tries to exit the ring! Pulling the hapless man to his feet, Flexxx snaps him across the face with a hard roundhouse right hand! Z is flung into the ropes by the force… but is snapped back as Flexxx pulls the rope back… and holds out his hand, letting the rebounding Z clothesline himself! Z scrambles to his feet as Flexxx spins around him, letting the long rope dangle behind his body. Again, Flexxx rains punches on Z, backing him into the turnbuckle! Flexxx takes a step back, preparing for a huge shoulderblock… as Z seizes the rope with his hand, pulling it taut! It snaps to attention behind Flexxx, pulling his legs out from under him! The crowd roars as Z scrambles onto the porno man, pounding his face with weak punches!

 

Axis: “Z using the rope to his advantage, getting his first shots at Flexxx!”

 

Edwin: “Back first on the ground, eh? Probably a familiar place for Flexxx…”    

 

Flexxx brings his forearms up to guard his face, as Z punches on! With some difficulty, Flexxx rolls over, managing to stops Z’s assault. He gets to his knees, trying to get to his feet… but is stopped cold as Z delivers a hard running kick to his ribs! Z follows this up with some weak stomps, as Flexxx rolls himself to the outside! Z celebrates his little bit of offence, playing to the crowd… as Flexxx yanks the rope, again tripping Z up! Flexxx pulls hard on the rope, dragging Z to the outside!

 

Axis: “Z was a little too happy with his bit of offence!”

 

King: “Feh, he should enjoy it. This is the only offence that Flexxx is going to let him get!”

 

Edwin: “This is as good as time as any to explain… the rules for this match are quite super, if I say so myself! See, as with any strap match, there are no DQs, and the rope is fair game! Although, to maintain *some* order, countouts are still in effect.”

 

King: “Wait, wait, wait… what sort of moron books a match with no DQs, but leaves the countouts in!”

 

Edwin: “…Axis, tell King these are *Texan* rules.”

 

Eddie Long leans over the ropes, trying to encourage Flexxx to bring it back inside… and gets an a slew of obscenity in return. Sighing, he starts the count…

 

“One!”

 

With Z picking himself up off the ground, Flexxx gathers up the slack of the rope, folding it in half… and strikes Z clear across the face with it! Z shrieks girlishly, as the crowd crows in displeasure, but Flexxx lets it all roll off of him, winding up and hitting Z a second time!

 

“Two!”

 

Axis: “How disrespectful! Flexxx literally slapping Z across the face with that coarse rope!”

 

King: “Respect is earned, Axis! You can’t ‘disrespect’ someone who hasn’t done anything to get any!”

 

Flexxx strikes Z a third time, as he curls up into a bal, trying to nurse his sore face. Flexxx shakes his head, dropping the rope and heading over to the timekeepers table… but is stopped as Z grabs the rope, yanking it and literally spinning Flexxx around! Z gathers himself up, summoning up his courage… and levels a devastating verbal charge…

 

“You… You fuzzy sock sucking, cat licking, cabbage patch doll marauding… floozy!”

 

“Three!”

 

Axis(sniggering) : “Did Z just… haha… call Flexxx a whore?”

 

Edwin(also giggling): “Forget that, -snrk- Axis. I think he jus… hehe… just said Flexxx… ‘does’ cabbage patch dolls!”

 

King: “Damn it! Flexxx has been… besmirched, and you’re just *laughing*!? Some day, you two morons are going to *die* laughing!” (Shouts) “Flexxx, rip his freaking head off!”

 

Flexxx stares blankly at Z, as he jumps and yells a few more ridiculous insults! Finally, Z snarls and digs his feet into the ground, charging at Flexxx with a mighty sprint!

 

“Four!”

 

…that Flexxx calmly sidesteps. Flexxx gives the rope a light tug, sending Z careening into the ringpost! Z comically slides down the post, slouching onto his knees, as Flexxx continues over to the timekeepers table. Sending a helpless Pasty White Guy™ scurrying, Flexxx snaps his chair shut, flinging it into the ring!

 

Axis: “Good lord, is Flexxx planning to use that in the match!?”

 

“Five!”

 

King: “No, Axis, he’s planning to invite a fain into the ring, and give them a really good view.” -twitch- “OF COURSE HE’S PLANNING TO USE IT IN THE MATCH! ARE YOU CHANNELING THE SPIRIT OF MICHALE COLE!?!?!”

 

Edwin: “He’s not actually dead.”

 

King: “Well hell, he should be.”

 

Axis: “And now Flexxx is coming over *here!*”

 

From over by the timekeepers table, Flexxx saunters over to the announcer’s desk, grabbing a spare headset…

 

“Six!”

 

Flexxx: “Hallo, boyos! Kingfish, Axis… Edwin.”

 

King: “Why, Flexxx, what a pleasant surprise! Edwin, get your ass out of that chair, and let the man sit-down!”

 

Flexxx: “Now, now, that’s ok. After all, I think I should be at least *courteous* to the man who booked me against suck—excuse me, such fine competition.”

 

To illustrate his point, Flexxx snaps the rope, sending the recovering Z crashing to the safety mats. The crowd boos Flexxx, which he of course ignores.

 

“Seven!”

 

Flexxx: “And that’s not the only trick he can do! Sit, Z! Sit!”

 

As Z desperately tires to get to his feet, Flexxx gives the rope another good yank, this time sending Z spinning! With Z on his heels, Flexxx snaps the rope, casuing Z to fall onto his ass!

 

Flexxx: “Good doggie! Yes you are! Yes you are! Why, keep this up, and you might even get a treat!”

 

King: “He’s remarkably well trained! But tell me… is he housebroken?”

 

Flexxx and King have a good laugh at Z’s expense, as he wobbles over to the timekeepers table, flopping over it.

 

“Eight!”

 

Flexxx: “Man, I hope Ash is watching! You see that, Ashy-boy? After I get through your little Nancy-boy running buddies, that could be—no, that’s GOING to be you. Because I AM… the Flunkmsata’ FLEX! EX! E--”

 

Edwin: “Duck!”

 

Flexxx: “Huh? No, it’s—GAH!”

 

**DING!**

 

“Nine!”

 

As Flexxx gabs with the commentators, Z grabs the ringbell, driving it into Flexxx’s head! Flexxx slumps onto the announcers table, after leaning over it.

 

King: “Flexxx! Edwin, hurry, give me your water! I’ve got to revive him!”

 

Seeing time running out, Z slides into the ring, breaking the count as he rolls back out! With considerable effort, Z hauls Flexxx across the mats, rolling him back into the ring.

 

King: “Damn it, did you see that! That little punk! Why, I oughta…”

 

Edwin: “Tut-tut! All is fair in love and war, mon roi! After all, this is no DQ!”

 

King: “But… what about the count! He’s not supposed to--! It’s just not--! Blarg!”

 

With Flexxx out in the ring, Z takes his arm, struggling to pull him into the centre. Satisfied, (and not more than two-and-a-half feet from the ropes) Z goes for the lateral press!

 

“One!”

 

Axis: “Flexxx is out! This should be history!”

 

“TWO!”

 

King: “Give me your water bottle! I’ve got to try and shoot it into the ring!” (King reaches over Axis, trying to fight Edwin for his water bottle)

 

“THRE—NO!”

 

Axis: “Foot on the ropes! Flexxx got his foot on the ropes! Z couldn’t drag Flexxx far enough!”

 

King(struggling with Edwin): “Give… me… you water… bottle!”

 

Edwin(strained): “I… paid…a dollar… sixty for this!”

 

As Edwin and King fight over the water bottle, Eddie Long talks to Z, explaining that Flexxx had his foot on the ropes. Z grumbles, jumping onto the other side of Flexxx, pulling his foot of the rope, and hooking the leg for a better cover! Eddie goes down again!

 

Axis: “Smart move by Z! Flexxx may not be out, but he’s still groggy!”

 

“One!”

 

King(still fighting): “Damn it! Why… don’t… you even… give up! Just… give it… to… me!”

 

Edwin: “Really?”

 

King: “Yes!”

 

“TWO!”

 

Axis: “This is it!”

 

(With one final yank, Edwin squirts the water bottle onto King’s shirt!

 

“THRE—NO!”

 

Axis: “Flexxx kicked out! Damn, I don’t know how, but Flexxx kicked out!”

 

King(not even noticing the ring): “MY SHIRT! What the hell is wrong with you!? Can’t you control that thing!?”

 

Edwin(smirk): “Mm, I dunno… I hear that’s a problem for guys your age.”

 

(King gapes!

 

Axis: “Are you two even paying attention?”

 

Edwin formulates an excuse, as King continues to stare into space. Meanwhile, in the ring, a stunned Z pulls Flexxx to his feet, drilling the p0rn0 man hard in the face with several right hands! Z tries to whip Flexxx into the ropes, but is stymied as Flexxx reverses! Z careens to the ropes, but grabs hold of the bull-rope, causing Flexxx to lurch forward! Z takes his other hand, pulling the rope hard, and sending Flexxx spinning in a full circle, doing a dose do!

 

Axis: “Z flinging Flexxx around in a dose do!”

 

Edwin: “It’s like linedancing, Axis!” (Sings) “Whip your partner to and fro; take him by the hand, dose do! Slam him low, throw him high! Bonus points if the bastard dies! YEE-HAW~!”

 

King: “Urgh… country muzik.”

 

Flexxx ricochets off the ropes, caught by Z as he takes him down with the HIPTOSS OF HAUNTINGLY HELLISH DICOMBOBUATION! A rather stunned Flexxx scrambles to his feet, only to get a second HHHD! A shaken Flexxx pulls himself up, getting shot to the corner before he knows it. Still trying to get his bearings, Flexxx can do nothing as he crashes hard to the turnbuckle, sternum first!

 

Axis: “Flexxx needs to clear the cobwebs out, because I don’t think he has any idea where he is! That last offensive burst from Z knocked him senseless.”

 

King: “Urg… I’ve seen to many good men lose to Z like this, and I’m not about to let it happen to Flexxx! Ok crystal ball, tell me what Flexxx needs to do!” (King waves his hands over the ball in vaguely mystic fashion. Edwin leans over and looks into it.)

 

Edwin: “Hmm… All I can see is that you’ll have to be trimming your nose hairs in the future, Kingler.”

 

King(eyes narrow): “I thought you weren’t going to talk to me.”

 

Edwin: “That was six *pages* ago. Get with the program.”

 

Axis: “Psst! Ixnay on the agespay!”

 

Flexxx coughs and holds his chest in pain… a pain that is aggravated as Z delivers a shoulderblock of DEATH to Flexxx’s back! Flexxx slams into the top turnbuckle pad a second time, hacking in pain! Z slams Flexxx again! Z spins Flexxx around, grabs the top rope for leverage, and slams his boot into Flexxx’s breadbasket! A second stomp! A third, and Flexxx is slumping now! Z continues, feet of fury, as he does the forbidden mudhole stomping dance! After driving his feet into Flexxx’s chest, Z steps to the other end of the ring…

 

Axis: “Z’s got Flexxx down… and he’s walking away?”

 

King: “Erm… well, he just put the bots to Flexxx and he’s fearful of the backlash! Yeah!”

 

Z reaches the other turnbuckle… and crotchchops. The crowd explodes.

 

King: “Oh… NO.”

 

Edwin: “YEE-HE-HAW! Looks like the trip through cowboyland isn’t over yet! It’s time for the BRONCO BUSTA~! Yippee Ki Yee Ki Yo Ki Yo!”

 

Z walk to the other end of the ring pulls the rope taut, awakening Flexxx and letting him look down at Z with bleary eyes… and see him come at him with a massive charge! Z takes a running leap into the air, spread eagle… as Flexxx rolls out of the way! Z crashes down on the ringpost, teses first, as the entire crowd groans in sympathy! The voices segue into jeers, all directed at Flexxx.

 

Edwin: “Yippie Ki Ye Ki Yo Ki YEEEOWCH!”

 

Axis: “Z going, uh, ‘package’ first into the ringpost, and the crowd letting Flexxx have it!”

 

King: “For WHAT!? He didn’t *do* anything, he just moved out of the way! That’s just self defense!”

 

Flexxx, using the ropes, pulls himself to his feet, shaking out the cobwebs. He turns to look at Z, sprawled out on the ground, clutching himself, his right toe twitching in pain. Ginning, Flexxx looks down on Z, firing off several hard stomps! Wincing despite the pain, Z tries to crawl to away from Flexxx, only getting an even heavier hail of fierce stomps. Grabbing Z by his camo jacket, Flexxx hauls the 26th letter of the alphabet to his feet, knocking him sideways with an elbow strike to the head! Z tries to fall, only to be held up as Flexxx tugs on the rope. Flexxx pulls Z fully upright, seizing him by his throat! “WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?” Yells Flexxx, tightening the grip on Z’s esophagus!

 

Axis: “Flexxx is pissed *off!* He’s got Z by the throat, and is reading him the riot act!”

 

King: “And so he should! Z is *graced* by the presence of Flexxx in the ring, a man who for all intents and purposes, is good enough to be world champ! This little runt is facing Flexxx, and he tries to give him *that* move? I think *not*”

 

Z pries at Flexxx’s hands helplessly, as Flexxx drives another elbow into his head! “Trying to FIGHT me!? HUMILIATE ME!?” Flexxx drives a third elbow into Z’s temple! “You’re NOTHING! Your mates are NOTHING! You… are… USELESS!” Flexxx spits in Z’s face, releasing him from his grip! Z tries to wipe the saliva from his face… but is stopped as the rope snaps him to his feet! Flexxx intensely tosses him to the ropes, grabbing Z by the ribs as he rebounds… and trowing him over his head with a release Belly to Belly! The crowd washes the ring over with heat, only getting obscenities from Flexxx, as he flashes them the bird!

 

Edwin: “Who’s humiliating who, King? This is supposed to be a wrestling competition, not Flexxx trying to incite a bloody riot! What did Z do to deserve this, anyway?”

 

King: “You signed a hardcore bull rope match, *you* deal with it. ‘Deserved’ doesn’t have anything to do with this. Flexxx ‘deserves’ a shot at Ash Ketchum, but you won’t give it to him! You think that makes Flexxx happy? Plus getting put against Z, of all people!? Flexxx is angry, what did you expect?”

 

Edwin: “Hardcore is fine, that’s no excuse for this!”

 

Z rolls onto his back, clutching it in obvious pain. With an fire in his eyes, Flexxx takes the slack of the rope, and folds it in half… before whipping it into Z’s back with an awesome…

 

**SMACK!**

 

Z whimpers from the ground, trying to find some way to nurse his back. Flexxx has none of that, stepping on Z’s legs, and raising his arm up for another…

 

**SMACK!**

 

This time, Z cries out in pain! The fans begin a “FLEXXX HAS HERPES! -clap, clap, clapclapclap!- FLEXXX HAS HERPES! –clap, clap, clapclapclap!-” A chant that Flexxx brushes off, raising his arm again…

 

**SMACK!**

 

Again, Z lets out a scream of pain, managing to roll onto his back as Flexxx stops stepping on his legs.

 

Axis: “Flexxx absolutely taking Z behind the woodshed! And now he’s… oh no…”

 

Edwin: “He’s got the chair! Damn, Flexxx, haven’t you done enough to Z!?”

 

King: “But ‘hardcore is fine’ remember? Hahahaha!”

 

With a –clank!- Flexxx scoops up the chair, raising it high for all the crowd to see! He points to Z, then the chair, exclaiming “This is what I’m going to do to this fool next!” Flexxx turns around and stalks up to Z, slowly, as the alpahbetmaniac looks up to him with bleary eyes. As Flexxx raises the chair high above his head… Z rolls away, tugging the rope, and causing Flexxx to stumble! Flexxx crashes to the ground, letting his head impact right into the chair! The crowd boils over with a ‘Let’s go Z!’ chant!

 

Axis: “Z managing to use that rope to his advantage!”

 

King: “See!? SEE!? This is what I mean by humiliating Z!”

 

Edwin: “But ‘that’s just self defense,’ remember? Kya’ Hahaha!”

 

Z tries to pull him self up to his feet; as Flexxx pops up from his place on the canvas, putting his fingers to his forehead… and snarling with anger as they come back reddened with blood! Picking up the chair, Flexxx takes a wild swing at the risen Z… who manages to slip out of the way! Only getting angrier, Flexxx jabs the chair at Z’s gut… and Z actually *rolls* back with the shot! Flexxx raises the char again, faking a head shot, which Z buys! Flexxx suddenly brings the char down, taking out Z’s left knee! Z does a front somersault, landing on his back and holding his knee!

 

King: “Playing to your strengths! Page 119 of the *official* heel guidebook! Authored by moi, and available at *fine* bookstores everywhere!”

 

Axis: “King, this is serious! Z has a very publicized bad knee, and Flexxx is just exploiting that!”

 

King: “That’s what I said! And there is nothing wrong with the way he did it, either!” (He leers at Edwin) “Tis’ hardcore, after all.”

 

With a grin, Flexxx drops the chair, and pulls Z to a position where his legs are close to the ropes, but his body is facing away. Sauntering over to his legs, Flexxx picks up the left one, rolling Z over in a half-crab hold! Z howls in pain, feebly trying to get away, as Eddy Long crouches down, trying to see if Z submits!

 

Axis: “Flexxx may have it now, with the Half Boston Crab!”

 

Edwin: “But Z resiliency is well know! Even with that knee, Flexxx may have to try a little harder than this!”  

 

Eddie long again asks Z if he submits, getting a pained sake of Z’s head… which is interrupted as Flexxx wraps the rope around Z’s neck! Z gurgles helplessly as Flexxx torques on the rope and Z’s injured leg! Z’s hands try to pry the rope from his neck, to little avail, as he gurgles again as Long asks him if he submits…

 

Axis: “Flexxx going all out, here, using the rope to his best advantage!”

 

King: “International Objects! Covered on page 124 of the official guide to being a heel!”

 

Edwin: “King, how come everything in your book is about 100 pages from the start?”

 

King: “The forward, written by yours truly, is 80 pages long.”

 

Axis(resigned): “Let me guess, all of which is devoted to blind praise of yourself?”

 

King: “I had to cut it short at 80 pages, Axis! That’s *hardly* enough. Besides, that’s what everyone buys this thing for, right?”

 

Axis shakes his head, turning it back to the match… to see Eddie Long again asking Z if he submits. Z groans in response, as Flexxx pays careful attention. Slowly, his hand reaches for the ropes, grabbing on for even *more* unnecessary leverage!

 

King: “Using the Ropes, coved on page 99 of the *official* guide to being a--”

 

Edwin: “Could you shut up about your sodding book for *five seconds*!?”

 

King: “Hmph. Embrace the greatness, Edwin. Remember, I’ve gotten you to bow to me once already…”

 

As Z yells in pain, Flexxx pulls on the ropes with the same hand as the one he has the bull rope in, getting as much leverage as possible. He looks back at Z… and Eddie turns his head up to look at him! Long rises to his feet, getting a “What do you thing *you’re* going to do?” from Flexxx. Without moving a single facial muscle, Eddie kicks the hand free of the ropes, getting a rousing cheer from the audience!

 

Axis: “Long! Eddie Long stopped Flexxx from using the ropes!”

 

King: “What the hell does he think he’s DOING!? This is NO disqualification! Damn it, if Edwin can’t be bothered to hire ref’s who don’t let their emotions get the better of them…!”

 

With Flexxx’s attention elsewhere, Z scrambles free of Flexxx, throwing the rope aside and pulling himself to a free turnbuckle! Seeing Z get away, Flexxx tries to reach behind him and grab Z’s leg… only succeeding at falling over! The crowd laughs at his expense, as Flexxx hurries up, yelling obscenities at the audience! … and actually recoils as they start another “FLEXXX HAS HERPES! -clap, clap, clapclapclap!-” Holding onto the ropes as he almost falls down, Flexxx gives the crowd a good sneer, before walking over to Z. Taking hold of his scraggly blue hair, Flexxx hauls him to his feet, taking a few steps… and throwing him out into the centre of the ring!

 

Axis: “A hairmare! Flexxx showing more disrespect to Z!”

 

King: “What did I say earlier? Flexxx is probably even more pissed off now, because of that dissident referee…”

 

Hopelessly, Z tries to haul himself to his feet, again getting picked up by Flexxx. With a scream of rage, Flexxx pitches Z to the ropes, watching him wobble on his bad leg! Z is shot back, as Z telegraphs a back drop… and is stunned as Z baseball slides between his legs! Strap in hand, Z waves at Flexxx as he turns his head around… and jerks the rope on Flexxx’s ‘package,’ the p0rn0 man letting out a scream of, several decibels higher than usual!

 

Axis: “And the odds have been EVENED!”

 

Edwin: “Z getting Flexxx with the,” (Falsetto) “High, how ya doing?”

 

King: “What’s with you two perverts and other men’s crotches!? And I said that what Flexxx did was in self-defense! This was *blatant* unethical treatment of the testicles!”

 

King rants on, as Z wobbles over Flexxx, who is holding himself him pain. Reaching under Flexxx and pulling his arms under his legs, Z holds his arm up for the crowd… and drops down onto Flexxx, posing up a storm!

 

Edwin: “YES! NELBINA! NEL-BI-NA! WHOO!”

 

King: “Goddam! What is with this!? Fist that ‘shot’ than the most embarrassing move in all of wrestling!? Why the hell isn’t Long being dissident *now*?!”

 

Z goes through his poses, finishing off by executing a crotch chop! Z wobbly rises to his feet, as Flexxx snorts and snarls behind him. As Z plays to the crowd one last time, Flexxx reaches out, and yanks Z’s legs from under him! Z falls forward, getting his neck on the rope and falling back! Flexxx pulls himself up, picking Z up again! Shouting an audible ‘FUCK YOU!’ into Z’s ears, Flexxx again pitches him to the ropes. As Z rebounds , Flexxx closes his eyes trying for a *massive* clothesline! …he reopens them, looking around for any sign of the fallen Z. He blinks, scratching his head… and turns around to the sound of…

 

**STOMP! STOMPSTOMPSTOMP!**

 

Flexxx’s eyes widen as Z’s foot races toward him!

 

Axis: “Blizzard of Oz! The superkick…”

 

Thinking quickly, Flexxx spins around, ducking under Z’s foot and hooking two of his limbs!

 

King: “Is DUCKED! Now, for a real finisher!”

 

Axis: “This is the setup for the Golden Gun! Flexxx sent Z packing with this last time!”

 

Pulling Z up onto his shoulders, Z shows off for the crowd, trying to ignore the alphabetmanic as he struggles on Flexxx’s shoulders! Finally, Flexxx toses Z over, trying for the Diamond Cutter part of the move…

 

…

 

…

 

…Which Z squirms out of! Z shoves a stunned Flexxx into the ropes, throwing out an Arm Grenade as he ricochets… which Flexxx ducks! Z turns around, getting a massive KICK to the gut! WHAM Z doubles over, as Flex locks on a ¾ headlock, spinning in a full circle, before dropping Z down in a STUNNER!

 

Axis: “TWISTERFUCK STUNNER! GOOD GAWD, THIS SHOULD BE ALL OVER!”

 

Z Flips over Flexxx’s shoulder, landing on the discarded steel chair… which is perfectly perpendicular to the turnbuckle! With a grin Flexxx stalks to the buckle, antagonizing the fans with every… slow… step up to the tope rope. He points down at the ‘out-cold’ Z… and brings hit hand together in a diamond, breaking them apart with a bang!

 

Axis: “Flexxx is going to go for the Money Shot!”

 

King: “Z is out! Why the hell doesn’t he PIN HIM!?”

 

Edwin: “Z’s been down and out before, and managed to pull through in this match! Flexxx knows it, and can’t take any chances!”

 

Flexxx stands on the top rope, sizing Z up, not noticing the man in the camouflage coat looking at him with one eye open.  Finally, Flexxx jumps off… at the same moment Z rolls away! Z gives the rope the best yank he can from where he lays, throwing Flexxx completely off kilter! Flexxx flies ass over teakettle, crashing to the canvas neck first…

 

…

 

…

 

…ON THE STEEL CHAIR!

 

Axis: He wasn’t out! Z was NOT out! He used the rope to his advantage, and Flexxx came down like a rock!”

 

King: “Right on the chair! Call an ambulance! Stop the match! Call it a draw! But, for the love of God, JUST DON’T LET Z WIN!!”

 

The crowd roars as Z, completely spent, claws his way over to Flexxx’s prone body. Drawing whatever he can from the ‘Let’s go Z! LET’S GO Z!” chant, Z gets closer… closer…. closer still… almost there… Z flops an arm over Flexxx, in the only cover he can! Long goes down, as the fans chant along!

 

“ONE!”

 

 

“TWO!!”

 

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

**DING!DING!DING!**

 

Funyon: “The winner of this match, by pinfall… ZEEEE!!”

 

The strains of ‘Epic” kick across the arena, as the crowd begin an appreciative cheer. Eddie Long hold up Z’s hand… As Z slumps back to the canvas.

 

Axis: “Another fluke victory for Z! Flexxx tried his damndest, but Z ‘pulled’ through!”

 

King(grows): “Yeah, with a little help from Mr. Steel Chair. ‘Fluke’ is right… dirty ref’s… I’ll have you found out, MacPhisto, I swear it!”

 

Edwin(bored): “Didn’t you say that same thing when Mafia lost?”

 

King: “RRRGH…”

 

Axis: “Sigh.  Anyway, Flesher versus Ketchum II! Submission match! World Title! NEXT!”                

 

The scene fades, at the shot of Z pulling himself up by the ropes, and Flexxx being helped from the ring, ‘Epic’ playing on…

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

SJL Metal returns from a Disneyland commercial featuring Ash Ketchum ("Copyrights? Who cares?! I'm going to Disneyland!") and pans across a cheering capacity crowd in the Tampa Ice Palace. They begin the traditional chant of "AXIS! AXIS! AXIS!" as the camera zooms in on the SmarkTron. The World Title graphic crashes onto the screen, and under it scroll the names "ASH KETCHUM" and "SUPERIOR ONE." Once the names are under the graphic, it explodes, leaving only the charred words, "SUBMISSION MATCH." With that, the fans burst into wild applause and the camera swings over to the announce table. Suicide King, Axis and Edwin each sit in their usual spots. Edwin, as always, sips a strawberry daiquiri and grins stupidly at the camera while Axis and Suicide King merely shuffle their notes for the upcoming match.

 

Axis: We're back with SJL Metal for this Wednesday, May 15, 2002! We've seen a lot of exciting action already tonight, and we're ready for the main event!

 

Edwin: One week ago on Metal, we saw Ash Ketchum finally attain his boyhood dream of winning the SJL World Title! That leaves him with almost a full SJL Grand Slam, even including two reigns with the now-defunct Stables Title! Then, this week, we saw each man take a turn and destroy the other's car!

 

King: pffft... yeah, THAT'S original.

 

Axis: Tonight, the two will meet in a Submission match, a stipulation hand-picked by the challenger... and with a referee hand-picked by Flesher as well!

 

King: I think the marks need a history lesson here, Axis. Ash Ketchum and Thoth have never gotten along. In fact, let's just say that the two of them really shouldn't be in the same ring together, if Ash plans on walking out.

 

Edwin: Oh, but rest assured, if Thoth shows any favoritism toward Tom Flesher, bad things are going to happen!

 

Axis: Flesher's also promised to bring four of his closest friends with him tonight, to ensure a fair match. With all that in mind, let's go to the ring!

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen... it is now time for the main event! This match is a Submission Match, and it is for the S... J... L... WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!

 

The fans burst into cheers. "Quarantined" by At The Drive In begins to blare over the loudspeaker. The arena becomes illuminated in blue lights, and Thoth's video begins playing on the SmarkTron. Suddenly, the beat explodes, and the blue lights turn crimson! Thoth walks through the curtain wearing his Clan robe and is greeted by a chorus of boos. He walks slowly to the ring, eventually sliding in.

 

Funyon: Your guest referee for this submission match.... representing the Clan, this is THOTH!

 

The fans continue booing as Thoth removes his Clan robe, revealing his standard white dress shirt, black bondage pants and black dress shoes. The music fades out as Thoth hands his robe over the ropes to the timekeeper, and it's suddenly replaced by the opening bassline from "Rearranged" by Limp Bizkit. The fans boo even louder as the words "SUPERIORITY COMPLEX" pulsate and throb in black on the plain white background of the SmarkTron. The words fade into a black and white video series of Flesher's moves, intercut with the pulsating phrases "HEAD TRAUMA EXPRESS" and "TICKET NONREFUNDABLE." Boilermaker, Spin Cycle, brainbuster, Burning Hammer, Superior Stretch, and finally a slow-motion clip of Flesher released-German-suplexing Shawn Brody over the top rope and letting him fall to the concrete. After waiting to tease the crowd, Tom Flesher finally walks through the curtain and pauses as the fans begin a chant of "YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK!" Flesher crosses his arms and waits patiently, but the fans just continue to boo and chant. Flesher finally begins his slow walk to the ring, stalking like a caged animal, being hit with (and no-selling) numerous plastic beer cups.

 

Funyon: The challenger... from Buffalo, New York, and weighing in at 213 pounds... "The Superior One," Tom Flesher!!!!!!!!

 

Flesher slides into the ring and backs into his corner.

 

Axis: I thought Flesher said he was going to bring an entourage with him!

 

King: You just wait, moustache-boy.

 

Flesher slowly and silently turns to the entryway, and with a simple flick of the wrist, motions for someone to come down to the ring. With that, there's a pyro explosion, and out from behind the curtain come....

 

Axis: THE NEW SOUND!!!!!!! Mafia, Flunkmasta Flexxx, Poisyn and the Insane Luchador!!!!!!! That's who Flesher was talking about!!

 

Edwin: Oh my God!!!

 

Suicide King just smirks knowingly as the four make their way to the ring and line up around Flesher's corner. Flesher's music trails off, leading to a moment of silence in which the fans make almost no noise whatsoever. The lights go out, and you can almost feel the tension in the arena. Just then, the beginning of U2's "Elevation" begins to play, pumping up the crowd as a waterfall of pyro flows over the SmarkTron and shoots up the front of the entrance! With that, the hometown crowd bursts into cheers as the pyro stops. The only light in the arena is a single spotlight shining onto the stage and illuminating Ash Ketchum in a confident pose. Misty is at his side, hands on hips, smiling, and Ash spins around to face the crowd. The fans go absolutely crazy as the PokeDuo walks halfway down the ramp. Ash stops and throws his right hand into the air in his signature split-finger V for Victory sign, and the fans practically jump out of their seats. Ash pauses in the position a shade longer than usual, and another pyro blast goes off. Following behind Ash are Z, Ced Ordonez, Erek Taylor and Sydney Sky! The fans cheer as loud as they can as X Force 9 walks to the ring together, a cohesive unit.

 

Axis: Wow! Ash Ketchum certainly knows how to come prepared, including the SWF Light Heavyweight Champion, Erek Taylor!

 

Edwin: Well, you didn't think he'd go into this alone, did you?

 

Funyon: And his opponent... weighing in tonight at 258 pounds... The Cerebral Prankster, the PokeFreak, the Main Event King, and the MASTER OF THE GIMMICK MATCH... from Pallet Town, in TAMPA, FLORIDA........................... The SJL WORLD CHAMPION................ ASH... KETCHUM!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

The fans are on their feet, cheering their hometown hero! Ash climbs onto the apron and tosses the SJL World Title belt in. Flesher looks shocked and disgusted that Ash would treat the belt that way, but stays back in his corner as Ash holds the ropes for Misty and then enters the ring himself. He climbs the turnbuckle in his corner and whips off his shirt, tossing it to a fan in the first few rows. Except, before he jumps off...

 

Axis: Oh my god! Look at this from Flesher!

 

Flesher charges up behind Ketchum before the bell and grabs him around the waist, throwing him backwards in a German suplex! Ash hits the mat hard, and with that, Thoth calls for the bell!

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!!

 

 

Axis: This one is underway after Flesher ambushes Ketchum before the bell! He immediately sends Ketchum crashing to the mat with a released German suplex, and Ketchum is reeling!

 

Edwin: Egads!

 

Flesher grabs Ketchum's legs and immediately tries to step over into a Boston crab, but Ketchum straightens his legs and won't let Flesher turn him! Flesher keeps trying for the turn, but Ketchum frees his leg and kicks Flesher away to the ropes. As Flesher regains his balance, Ash gets back to his feet and angrily stares over at his opponent.

 

Axis: Ash is obviously still much too fresh to really go for the submission at this point.

 

King: Well la-de-da, Mr. Chairman. What the hell do you suggest? He goes for the pin?

 

Axis: Well, I'm just saying that...

 

Edwin: I believe what Axis is saying is that Ash is just much too good for Tom to attempt to win at all, and that Flesher should just sulk back to the locker room now and spare himself the embarrassment.

 

Axis: Exactly. I... wait a second....

 

Ash and Flesher both square off in the center of the ring, with Ash looking confident and Flesher looking irritated. Thoth, secure in the knowledge that he won't be necessary for the next few minutes, sits in the corner and watches idly. Flesher shoves Ash angrily, and Ash barely reacts. Flesher shoves him again, and once again, Ash no-sells it. Finally, Ash takes Tom down with a vicious lariat that sends Flesher crashing to the mat. Ash throws his hands in the air, and the hometown crowd pops loudly for the World Champion! Flesher gets back to his feet and stomps to the center of the ring to meet Ash, only to be met with a swinging forearm smash. Ash is met with another HUGE face pop as Flesher crumbles back to the mat. The obviously upset Flesher rolls out of the ring to confer with the members of the New Sound, and Ash stays in the ring. He spins around to face his XF9 teammates and, in one fluid motion, throws his signature split-fingered Victory sign into the air as the fans go wild!

 

Edwin: Zoink! Ash Ketchum's looking more dominant than ever here tonight! He looks like he's gained a lot of confidence from having that belt!

 

King: Eh, he's just happy Misty's finally giving him some.

 

Axis: Ash is asserting his dominance here with solid power moves, and he's forced Flesher to bail to the outside already. This can't bode well for the unofficial leader of the New Sound.

 

King: Oh, I wouldn't say he's the leader.

 

Axis: What are you talking about?

 

King: Wait and see.

 

Flesher re-enters the ring, looking a bit more together after conferring with Flexxx and Poisyn. Ash turns back around to lock up with Tom, but Tom meets him with a solid running palm strike to the jaw! Ash staggers backwards, and Flesher attempts to follow it up with another shotei to the jaw, but Ash dodges it and hits Flesher with a palm strike of his own! Flesher stumbles backwards and Ash nails him with a rising uppercut! Flesher hits the mat hard and, with fire in his eyes, rolls back to his feet as the crowd cheers Ash's every move. Flesher tries to lock up with Ash, but Ash backs away and makes a "Give me ONE moment" gesture. He turns around to face the crowd and get a cheap pop, but Flesher dropkicks him in the knee! The crowd breaks out in a loud and unanimous "BOOOO!" with a few scattered chants of "ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!" ringing through the arena.

 

Axis: The fans here in Tampa aren't taking too kindly to Flesher's tactics.

 

Edwin: How would you know? That's the first offense he's gotten in yet!

 

Ash hits the mat hard after Flesher kicks his foot out from under him, and Tom tries to grab him and pull him back to the center. Ash holds on to the bottom rope, though, and kicks backwards, nailing Flesher in the chest. Flesher drops a quick and dirty elbow into the back of Ketchum's knee and then rolls away to catch his breath.

 

Axis: Both wrestlers came out on the short end there.

 

King: Oh, how is that even possible?

 

Edwin: Well, if both ends are short... I mean, say both ends are less than three centimetres. I wouldn't say either guy came out on the long end.

 

King: Yeah, you know all about "less than three centimeters," don't you?

 

Flesher and Ash come back to the center and lock up. On the sidelines, XF9 and the New Sound cheer on their respective representatives as the two fight hard for the advantage. Flesher drops down for a single-leg takedown, but Ash is a step too fast for him and kicks him hard in the chest to counter it. Flesher takes the kick and responds with a hard palm strike to the groin! The crowd boos loudly and the X Force 9 contingent in the corner complains to Thoth, but Thoth just shrugs idly at them. Flesher takes advantage of Ash's predicament by yanking his left leg out from under him and twisting the ankle hard, stepping in and scissoring the leg in a Japanese-style ankle lock! Flesher immediately starts shouting, "TAP! TAP!!!!!!!!!" as Thoth falls to the ground to ask Ash if he wants to submit. Ash shakes his head no and tries to crawl for the ropes, but Flesher tightens his scissor grip on Ash's leg and keeps him in the center of the ring. Finally, Ash is able to break the hold with a mule kick to Flesher's chest, and as he rolls away, Flesher pauses to shake off the cobwebs.

 

Axis: Flesher locks on the first submission hold of the match, which isn't all that surprising. Flesher's obviously stacked the deck in his favor with this stipulation.

 

King: Also, fire is hot. Babies are like people, only smaller. Germans love David Hasslehoff. Let's file that under D for Duh.

 

Edwin: I don't know, Ash is much bigger and more powerful than Tom is. He can beat Tom into submission like THAT! ZING! Just like that!

 

Axis: Ash has also been in the practice room perfecting the Total Nightmare, a dragon sleeper STF.

 

Edwin: Ouch! That sounds painful!

 

King: That's what she said last night.

 

Flesher and Ash once again square up in the center of the ring, each man a little more hesitant to lock up after having taken a beating already. Flesher backs off and turns to Thoth. He points to Thoth's shoe, and Thoth immediately bends down and begins to tie it. With that, Flesher grabs Ash's arm and Irish-whips him to the ropes. When Ash hits the ropes, Flexxx grabs his foot and drags him out of the ring! Insane Luchador slides into the ring and bounces off the ropes, and Flesher backdrops him over the top rope onto Ash! The New Sound batters Ash with punches and kicks until Thoth looks up, having taken nearly a full minute to tie, untie and retie his lace. The New Sound shoves Ash back into the ring, where Flesher begins stomping Ash before he can even get to his feet!

 

Axis: This looks like it's turning into a lumberjack match!

 

Edwin: No, that can't be... the card clearly says "Submission Match."

 

Axis: But it looks like...

 

Edwin: I'm the commissioner here, Axis.

 

Axis: But...

 

King: Listen to the man... er... panda wrangler, OzBoy.

 

Flesher continues putting the boots to Ash until Thoth lazily waves him back. Ash tries to get to his feet, but Flesher nails him with a dropkick to the knee before Ash can get up. Ash tries again to get up, but Flesher dropkicks his knee again! Finally, Flesher backs off and lets Ketchum get to his feet. Flesher grabs Ketchum's arm and tries to whip him to the ropes, but Ash reverses it and Irish-whips Flesher! Flesher bounces off the ropes, and Ash catches him with a solid powerslam! Ash holds Flesher on his back, forgetting for a moment that it's a submission match, and Flesher takes the opportunity to catch a breather. Ash realizes his mistake after a moment and gets off of Flesher and back to his feet, but Flesher responds by kicking Ash's leg out from under him! Ash shudders and staggers backwards as Flesher gets to his feet, pressuring Ash backwards. Under pressure, Ash reacts by backdropping Flesher over the top rope, sending him right into the XF9 corner! Ordonez and Taylor rough Flesher up a little before sending him back in.

 

King: Did you see that, Thoth?! Did you see the liberties they're taking with Flesher?! You're supposed to keep this contest clean!

 

Axis: King, they didn't treat Flesher half as badly as the New Sound treated....

 

King: Shut up! Just shut up!

 

Ash attempts to attack Flesher on his way in, but Thoth gets in front of him and forces him backwards while Flesher gets to his feet. He even threatens Ash with disqualification, forgetting the special win-only-by-submission stipulation on the match. Once Flesher gets to his feet, Thoth turns around and examines Flesher thoroughly before backing out and allowing him to continue. As soon as Thoth gets out of the way, Ash storms in and whips Flesher to the ropes. Flesher, however, grabs the ropes on the far side of the ring to stop his momentum. Enraged, Ash charges in at Flesher and gets rewarded with a Yakuza kick to the chest. Flesher punctuates that with a running palm strike that stuns Ash enough to send him crashing to the mat, allowing Tom to follow it up with a diving headbutt. With Ketchum stunned, Tom takes the opportunity to yank Ash's arm through and lock his legs around Ash's head and arm, clinching a triangle choke! The stunned Ash quickly comes to his senses as Flesher tightens the choke. The New Sound starts pounding the mat and chanting "TAP! TAP! TAP!" Upset by that, the XF9ers try to drown that out with an "ASH! ASH! ASH!" chant that the crowd quickly picks up. Flesher tries to tighten the hold, but Ash pushes forward on it, relieving the pressure, and without a moment's hesitation, he lifts Flesher high into the air... and slams him back to the mat with a vicious powerbomb! Immediately, Flesher releases the hold and writhes on the mat. Ash backs off and slumps down in his corner, having injured his own shoulder in the powerbomb. Misty tries to convince Ash to keep attacking as Insane Luchador and Poisyn encourage Flesher.

 

Axis: There's a way to break the triangle choke! What an inventive counter by Ash Ketchum!

 

Edwin: I'd say! You have to get up pretty early in the morning to catch Ketchum!

 

Axis: Absolutely!

 

Edwin: That was a pun, Axis.

 

Axis: I know...

 

Edwin: Because Ash's last name is Ketchum.

 

Axis: Edwin, I...

 

Edwin: And I said you have to "catch Ketchum."

 

Axis: That's very good, Edwin...

 

Edwin: Why thank you!

 

Flesher and Ash both pull themselves to their feet and meet in the center of the ring.

 

Edwin: Boy, they sure do that a lot!

 

Axis: What's that?

 

Edwin: Pull themselves to their feet and square off.

 

King: Well, there are only so many ways to transition out of a triangle-choke-broken-by-powerbomb spot, jackass.

 

Axis: What an odd thing to say.

 

Edwin: Well, you'd think they'd do something more inventive, is all.

 

Ash and Tom stare each other down for a few moments before Ash breaks the tension with a swinging forearm smash. Flesher sidesteps, missing most of the impact, and responds with a stiff shotei. Ash answers with another forearm, and Tom responds with yet another palm strike. Ash dodges that palm strike and grabs Flesher's arm, then ducks under him and picks him up into a fireman's carry. Ash attempts to start the Ketchum cutter, but Flesher counters by scissoring Ash's right arm, extending Ash's left arm and falling backwards in a crucifix pin! The two athletes hit the mat fairly hard, and Flesher doesn't let go. Thoth drops down and looks at Ash's head.

 

Axis: I think everyone's forgetting that there are no pins in this match.

 

King: Look closer, mate. Flesher's got that left arm extended and he's really cranking it in an armbar! Thoth is asking Ash if he wants to tap!

 

Ash looks like he's in serious pain, but he finds the strength to kick back over Tom and spin around to face him. In fact, he's strong enough to reverse around and lock Flesher up in a hammerlock! He cranks the hammerlock for a moment, really cinching it, before Flesher breaks it with a back elbow to Ash's head. Flesher takes advantage of Ash relaxing by reversing out and securing a Fujiwara armbar. Flesher cranks the arm as hard as he can, with Ash writhing on the ground. Flesher yanks the arm out and gets to his feet, stepping over Ash's shoulder in a classic Minnesota-style pumphandle armbar! Flesher twists and torques the arm, grinning sadistically as he does his best to rip Ash's arm out of the socket. Ash, however, counters it the way anyone with half a brain would: he thrusts his shoulder up, hitting Flesher squarely in the crotch! Flesher releases the arm and falls to the mat, curling up around his wounded groin while Ash shakes out his twinging shoulder.

 

King: Did you see that?! DID YOU?!

 

Axis: A low blow, just like the one Flesher used to start the match.

 

King: UNETHICAL TREATMENT OF THE TESTICLES!!!!! DQ HIM, THOTH!

 

Edwin: Oh, all Flesher needs is a little bit of Ben-Gay, and they'll be just fine tomorrow morning.

 

Axis and Suicide King look at Edwin, Axis truly confused and Suicide looking like Edwin just grew a second head.

 

Edwin: Hehhehheh... oh, did I say Ben-Gay? I mean Capzaizin.

 

Axis mutters, "I don't even want to know..." as we go back to the ring. Ash gets to his feet and, before Flesher can even react, boots Tom hard in the spine! Ash yanks Flesher to his feet and then immediately hits him with a vertical suplex. He picks Flesher back up and nails a DDT, sending Flesher crashing back to the canvas. Thoth kneels down to see if Flesher blacked out, and when Flesher responds, Thoth backs away again. Ash backs into his corner and mounts the top rope, watching Flesher cautiously. Flesher slowly starts to push his way to his feet, and when he stands all the way up, Ash immediately jumps off the top rope and hits Flesher in the back with the Rocket Launch missile dropkick! Flesher, stunned by the sudden impact from behind, falls forward and out of the ring, into the waiting arms of his New Sound cornermen. Ash bounces off the ropes and dives over the top rope, somersaulting forward and crashing into Flesher and Mafia. All three men hit the floor, but before Ash can get back to his feet, Flexxx, Luchador and Poisyn are all over him. Mafia helps Flesher back up as the pummeling continues. Flesher regains his senses as Rickmen peels back the protective mats and exposes the concrete floor of the Tampa Ice Palace.

 

Axis: They wouldn't dare!

 

King: Oh, I think they would.

 

Flesher puts a standing headscissors on Ash as Rickmen and Poisyn climb to the apron. Flesher flips Ash upside down, and each man takes one of Ash's legs in his hands.

 

Axis: No! Not a spike piledriver on the concrete!

 

Edwin: Oh no! There's going to be blood! I can't stand the sight of anything red!

 

Edwin takes a sip from his strawberry daiquiri as Flexxx and Mafia watch from the sidelines. Flesher counts, "ONE... TWO..." but before he can hit three, Sydney Sky and Erek Taylor nail him in the ribs with stereo dropkicks! Flesher falls backwards, and Luchador and Poisyn release Ash's legs out of surprise more than anything else, with Ash landing fairly harmlessly on top of Flesher! Thoth leans out of the ring and shouts for everyone to clear out, but the XF9ers and New Sound contingent begin brawling! Insane Luchador squares off against Sydney Sky, Poisyn against Z, Ced Ordonez against Mafia and Erek Taylor takes it to Flunkmasta Flexxx! Flesher and Ash pound each other punch-for-punch, battling toward the announce table! Suicide King makes a grab for Axis' cup of coffee, knowing what's coming next!

 

Axis: Oh hell no! Not this week!

 

King reaches for Edwin's daiquiri, but thinks again, muttering, "Nah, he's too Superior for a girl drink." In the meantime, Ash gets the upper hand in the brawl, nailing Flesher with a series of right hands followed by a rising uppercut. Flesher staggers backwards, stumbling into the announce table. Ash nails him with one more stiff right hand, and then lays Flesher out on the table as Axis, Edwin and Suicide King scatter! Ash enters the ring, the New Sound continues to brawl with X Force 9, and Flesher lays motionless on the table!

 

Axis: What's he going to do?!

 

King: No!!!!!!

 

Edwin: That wasn't very nice of him.

 

Ash runs to the opposite side, bounces off the ropes and then charges at top speed toward Flesher. He vaults himself onto the top rope and springs off, flying into the air! Floating over the concrete, Ash somersault, and hangs for a moment upside down in a perfect swan-dive! The fans in the Ice Palace take a collective gasp, stunned by the giant Ketchum's aerial ability, as he throws his weight over, completing a picture-perfect springboard Sake Bomb! But...

 

FLESHER ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY!!!!!!!! Ash crashes into the announce table with unbelievable impact, and the table splinters as Flesher rolls away! The Tampa crowd is in silence, stunned that their hometown hero is laying in a heap on what used to be the announce table, even as Tom Flesher re-enters the ring. Flesher climbs to the top rope and looks down on Ketchum's motionless form, then raises his arms high into the air!

 

Axis: Oh my god! He's going to go for the flying headbutt!

 

King: This Flesher, he's just dynamite!

 

Axis: NO! Ash can barely move! Just do the right thing and pull him back into the ring! Put him in a sleeper and let Thoth raise his arms! You don't need to hurt him anymore!

 

Flesher tries to keep a straight face, but a violent smirk creeps across his face even as he jumps off the cornerpost. The fans boo him loudly, while some just sit in stunned silence as Flesher flies through the air, spread-eagled, angling his body for maximum impact. Ash isn't moving, so there's no doubt that Flesher will connect. As Flesher floats toward the pile of wood and Ash, the brawl on the opposite side of the ring stops, with both XF9 and the New Sound simply watching Flesher dive. As if in slow motion, Flesher falls, headfirst, onto the SJL World Champion. The bone ridge on his forehead crashes into Ash's sternum, making a subtle "THUNK" sound that's drowned out by Ash's scream of pain. Flesher pauses a moment, and then gets up, staggering around the ringside area while shaking the cobwebs off.

 

Axis: Can you believe that?! Ash was completely defenseless! How could Flesher even do that to him?! What did Ash ever do to deserve that?!

 

King: He stole Tom's belt, dumbass.

 

Edwin: Even so, that's no excuse for this kind of sadism!

 

King: Says the guy who's never held a World Title. Trust me, MacPhisto... you'll never understand.

 

Flesher grabs Ash's limp carcass and throws it into the ring, then follows him back in. Flesher drags Ash to the center of the ring and spread-eagles him. He picks up Ash's left leg to apply a figure-four leglock, but he hears the fans chanting "ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!" and opts instead to drop an elbow into Ash's knee, and then to climb the ropes even as the New Sound and X Force 9 brawl toward the back. Flesher climbs to the top rope, facing Ash, and raises his arms into the air once more.

 

Axis: Oh god, not again!!!!

 

King: Ash deserves every... single... bit of it, Axis. He came in here holding that belt like it was his own.

 

Edwin: He won the belt last week, fair and square!

 

King: Maybe he got one fluke win, but that doesn't mean it's his belt.

 

Axis sighs and mutters something about King being a dumbass as Flesher dives off the top rope. He floats down toward Ash, aiming for the fallen PokeFreak's head this time. He lands, crashing hard, landing headfirst...

 

ON THE MAT!!!!! Ash rolls away, this time!

 

Axis: GOOD FOR YOU, ASH! You knew he took too much time! He let you recover!

 

Edwin: COME ON, ASH!!!!!! YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO!!!!!

 

The two combatants lay on the ground as Thoth begins his blackout count.

 

ONE!

 

Both wrestlers are motionless.

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

Ash starts to stir, using the ropes to pull himself up.

 

FOUR!

 

Ash is almost to his feet as Flesher slowly starts to push himself off the mat.

 

FIVE!

 

Ash gets to his feet... and then loses his balance! The impact of Flesher's flying headbutt is still with him!

 

SIX!

 

Flesher is almost to his feet, using the ropes to prop himself up.

 

SEVEN!

 

Ash finally gets back to his feet, and both combatants are at least awake, if not all there mentally. Realizing that he can take advantage of the situation, Ash bounces against the ropes and charges at Flesher, going for the PokeBall Press! Flesher sees it coming and briefly wears a look of terror.

 

Edwin: Look at that! Flesher's scared to death of being sent to the outside again, like last week!

 

Axis: Come on, Ash!!!!!! Take him out!

 

Ash leaps into the air, going for the Thesz press, but Flesher one-ups him by leaning to the side and catching him in the air with a massive superkick! Ash lands jaw-first across Flesher's extended leg and then collapses to the mat! Flesher spins around, still stunned, and falls across Ash!

 

Axis: He doesn't have enough left to put on a hold! He can't do it! We're going to see a double knockout! Ash's title will stay with X Force 9!

 

King: Don't shoot your wad, Fosters. Flesher's awake.

 

Flesher pushes himself to his feet, then grabs Ash by the hair. Seeing some signs of life left in the Cerebral Prankster, Flesher lifts him to his feet and locks on a front facelock.

 

Axis: Jesus Christ, why is he going to use the brainbuster? Ash is already half dead!

 

King: You know nothing about protecting a title. Shut your mouth and watch the match. Maybe you'll learn something.

 

Flesher tries to lift Ash into the brainbuster, but Ash sinks his hips and is still too heavy! Flesher tries again, but this time Ash locks on his own front facelock and secures The Bind! Desperately, Ash tries to secure the guillotine choke and render Flesher unconscious to save his title! He cinches the hold, doing his best to choke Flesher out! Flesher flails, trying to break the hold, as Thoth drops down to watch for Flesher's tap-out. The crowd starts a chant of "TAP! TAP! TAP!" as Flesher looks desperately for an escape. He tries to pull the arm through into a hammerlock... no dice. The hold's too tight. He tries to reverse it into a Northern Lights Suplex... won't work. Ash is too heavy. Finally, Flesher resorts to the last refuge of the damned... a hard uppercut to the groin! Ash releases the hold and the fans burst into a chorus of boos as Flesher follows it up with an uppercut palm strike, hitting Ketchum directly under the nose. Ketchum falls backwards with a Nestea Plunge, his nose immediately starting to squirt blood, and lands flat on his back!

 

King: That shotei is DEADLY! Hitting someone under the nose like that sends the cartilage and bone crashing up into their brain, and at the VERY least it's a knockout, usually a concussion! This one's OVER!

 

Axis: Ash, get up! We know you can do it! No matter what you do, just don't give Flesher that belt back!

 

Misty leads the crowd in an "ASH! ASH! ASH!" chant as Flesher smirks, sitting in the corner. Thoth starts the ten-count on Ash, but Flesher goes over and breaks the count. He grabs Ash by the left leg, then spins him over with an ankle lock.

 

Axis: Oh, Jesus. I'm so sick of this move.

 

King: LET HIM FINISH!

 

Flesher lifts the leg up and falls forward, into position for an STF... but instead of the crossface, Flesher snakes his arm under and locks up a dragon sleeper! He cranks hard, choking Ash out, as Thoth raises Ash's arm.

 

RAISE IT ONCE... it falls.

 

 

RAISE IT TWICE... it falls.

 

 

 

RAISE IT A THIRD TIME...........

 

 

 

 

IT FALLS!!!!!! Thoth calls for the bell as some fans boo out of duty, some sit silently, and some young fans burst into tears. The camera follows Thoth as he gets the SJL belt from the timekeeper, and then zooms in as he straps the belt around Flesher's waist. Instead of "Rearranged," the slow, quiet opening of Stabbing Westward's "Darkest Days" begins to ring out over the loudspeaker, and as Thoth raises Flesher's arm, he can be heard to say, "Good job, Durandal."

 

Axis: Did you hear that?

 

Edwin just mutters "Oh my god..." as Flesher takes the microphone. Softly, he says, "Cut the music..." The intro continues, and Flesher takes it upon himself to shout once more, "CUT THE DAMN MUSIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!" This time, the arena goes silent, except for a quiet "YOU SUCK DICK!" chant. The fans are obviously anxious to hear Flesher's explanation.

 

"Funyon, don't even bother. I'll handle this for tonight. Ash... thank you. Are you wondering why I'm thanking you, you pile of [bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep]? Are you? No, of course not. You're just laying in a damn heap in the middle of the ring. I'd be surprised if you could even hear me, much less have any cognitive function whatsoever."

 

The fans just sit as Flesher continues talking, with Thoth rolling Ash's silent, motionless body out of the ring.

 

"Yes, I'm the new SJL World Champion. But you know what? I HATE saying that. Yeah, I'm a two-time World Champion.... but as far as I'm concerned, I've been the champ this WHOLE DAMN TIME! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! THIS BELT WAS TAKEN FROM ME, AND I HAVEN'T STOLEN IT BACK! I'M JUST TAKING WHAT'S MINE!!!"

 

Now, the fans begin booing louder and louder. The camera zooms in on Flesher's face, the fire in his eyes and the indignance evident in his voice. He practically shouts into the microphone, "THIS BELT IS MINE! SO IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN, SO IT IS NOW, AND SO IT SHALL ALWAYS BE!!!!! Don't EVER try to take it from me! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? NO ONE CAN TAKE THIS FROM ME!!!! This belt is MINE! It's mine FOREVER!!!"

 

Axis and Edwin sit silently, completely unable to formulate a response. King, meanwhile, smirks and chuckles to himself.

 

Flesher calms down once more as Thoth re-enters the ring, holding his own Clan robe.

 

"This belt's mine forever. So... says... the Clan."

 

Thoth unfurls his robe and wraps it around Flesher's shoulders. Once again, the intro to “Darkest Days” begins to ring out over the loudspeaker. Flesher turns around and looks at Thoth, and the two embrace. Thoth whispers, “Durandal, you’ve done the Clan proud,” and the camera fades out as we see the two stablemates locked in an embrace.

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

RESULTS!

 

A good show on the surface, marred by too much no-showing "backstage."

 

Mak Francis d. Scott Reid to become YOUR #1 contender!

 

TNT tableizes Ced and T-Bone!

 

Poisyn and Mafia choose to screw Edwin's match, clearly taking the collaboration over conflict route...

 

Frost gets his crunch on, destroying Syd and IL and letting Syd get the pin, cause he doesn't care a whit for anything but the Euro belt!  Very good match storyline, with Syd getting the V in Frost's Match.

 

Deathwish clobbers Tod deKindes good to take the title back, putting Tod out of action for an indefinite period!  Jeff Hardy, meet HHH.  Also, someone turns in this match, so read it.  Congrats to the guys working on this story--it's one of the best undercard feuds/involvements/stories I've ever seen in the JL, hands down.  This was Tod's match.

 

Xero comes out, violating his suspension and getting in Commissioner Edwin's face, turning even more heel in the process, demanding a particular match for Crimson and knocking out the Commish!  Read to discover his demand and Xero's impressive new angle on his character.

 

Z, loveable loser, k-o's Flexxx when he misses a Money Shot onto a chair!  Oh, Z, you mirthster.

 

And "The Superior One" Tom Flesher regains the SJL World Heavyweight Title...but undergoes some changes along the way.  Read to find out.  Or just wait for the Crimson Card, you whores.

 

Card up soon.  Decent show--not the best in terms of involvement, but the final product does look very nice.