Ace309 0 Report post Posted May 5, 2005 “Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for the National Anthem.” Funyon, wearing a fedora tipped gracefully to the front, stands in the center of the ring as his background music begins to play. Brazil, where hearts were entertaining June We stood beneath an amber moon And softly murmured "someday soon" We kissed and clung together Then, tomorrow was another day The morning found me miles away With still a million things to say Now, when twilight dims the sky above Recalling thrills of our love There’s one thing I’m certain of Return I will to old brazil Then, tomorrow was another day The morning found me miles away With still a million things to say Now, when twilight dims the sky above Recalling thrills of our love There’s one thing that I’m certain of Return I will to old brazil That old brazil Man, it’s old in Brazil Brazil, brazil Funyon bows as the fans cheer for his stirring rendition of Frank Sinatra’s “Brazil.” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Ace309 0 Report post Posted May 5, 2005 -=-=-=- The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents... SWF LOCKDOWN, MAY 4th, 2005, LIVE FROM THE PACAEMBU STADIUM IN SAO PAULO, BRAZIL! (8:00 PM EST; 5:00 PM PST. Check local listings.) Next stop on the SWF's International Tour o' Terror - Brazil! -=-=-=- THE MAIN EVENT - SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Jay Hawke © vs. Johnny Dangerous © --> Do I even need to explain this one? These two have history, none of it pretty. There's been sneak attacks and double-crosses and some very naughty words exchanged between these two. The most recent tension is on account of the SWF International Title, which Jay Hawke now holds, and which Johnny wants a rematch for. Johnny wants revenge, Jay Hawke wants to prove he's main event material, and both of them want to walk out with the SWF International Championship. Too bad only one of them can. Rules: Rules are for sissies. But they're also for Lockdown, so it's by the book tonight, gentlemen. Regular singles match. -=-=-=- Ejiro Fasaki vs. "The Franchise" Mak Francis --> Our super-secret rankings are not to be taken lightly - Ejiro won his Battleground match, and impressed CC in the process. Ejiro's got big things coming in the future, and one very big thing in the present - Mak Francis. Mak lost a hard-fought match against Toxxic at Battleground - no doubt he'll be wanting another shot. Ejiro's got a chance to back up his words on Storm, and Mak's got a chance to get that much closer to another title shot. But only one of them can make good on this opportunity. Rules: Standard singles match. -=-=-=- THE BRAWL-O IN SAO PAULO Scott Pretzler vs. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins --> Hrm... I seem to recall that some bad stuff went down the last time these two met... something along the lines of Pretzler taking Jenkins' Cruiserweight title and booting him out of Revolution Zero at the same time? Jenkins couldn't quite get the job done against Toxxic, but getting his hands on Pretzler may ease that pain a bit. I'm sorry if it seems like I'm ripping off Mike's "House Rules" series (which I love), but I was just dying to use a lame moniker like "The Brawl-o in Sao Paulo", so we've got something a little crazy tonight. The Pacaembu Stadium has seen its share of crazy soccer fan violence, so it seems wholly appropriate that we give them a night off and let the athletes go nuts. Rules: For this match, the ring will be moved off of the field. Both men start at the center of the field. From there, it's up to you. No disqualifications, pinfalls count anywhere. Local law enforcement will do their best to keep crazy board-with-nail wielding fans off the field, but you never know... You can stay on the field, go into the bowels of the arena, into the crowd - the sky is the limit. Seriously, the sky is the limit. I won't tolerate any sky-wrestling, you two. I'll try to find a layout or some pictures for you guys. Anyone who wants to help gets a boost in the super-secret rankings*. *this is a lie. -=-=-=- Martial Law (Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez) vs. Arch Griffon and Manson --> Martial Law has made it very clear that they want another crack at Wild and Dangerous, but if they want another shot at the titles, they're gonna have to earn it. Arch Griffon and Manson have made quite the pair in recent weeks, even managing to score a win over Revolution Zero's Scott Pretzler and JJ Johnson. Surely visions of Tag Titles are dancing in their head as well... Rules: Standard tag team match... and by standard, I mean "standard, except for the giant crocodile-filled moat surrounding the ring!" ... well, let's just go with a regular tag match for now. Wouldn't that moat thing be awesome, though? -=-=-=- Insane Luchador vs. Lil' Buck --> See? I learn. Luchador doesn't have an e. Better description to come once I find out who won HC title match on Storm. Rules: Standard singles match. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Ace309 0 Report post Posted May 5, 2005 (edited) SWF Lockdown returns from a commercial for Giant Gonzales’s floor waxing service (Despite Gonzo being a native, and rival, Argentinean) and intern cameraman Corey Haim pans around the Pacaembu Stadium, displaying a plethora of signs, all of which are in Portuguese, so there’s no point in divulging what they say, before coming to rest in front of the Suicide King and Longdogger Pete. “Welcome back to Lockdown, live from Sao Paulo, Brazil!” Pete yells over the screaming fans, glad to have something to scream about with Carnaval over. “And what a time we’ve had so far! Alcohol for next-to-nothing, and more scantily-clad women than you can shake a stick at!” quips King. “Yeah, there’s that, but we’ve also got a great night of action scheduled! Jay Hawke and Johnny Dangerous will battle for the International Championship later tonight, but right now, Lil’ Buck and current Hardcore Gamer’s champion Insane Luchador are going to face off,” Pete says. “But sadly, under standard rules. Where’s the fun in that?” King asks. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Easton, Pennsylvania, he weighs in at two hundred, one pounds, and is the current Hardcore Gamer’s Champion, IIINSAAANE LUUUCHADORRR!” Funyon roars. Alice in Chains’ “Man in the Box” starts up on the public address system, prompting the fans to cheer even louder. As the song begins in full, black and red pyrotechnics explode, and out walks Insane Luchador, title belt resting comfortably on his shoulder. IL pauses on the stage, letting the smoke clear before he throws his arms into the air and sprints down to the ring. He rolls under the bottom rope, casually tosses his belt outside the ring, and turns around, waiting for Lil’ Buck. “You know, this should be a very interesting match, because, as you said earlier, this is a standard match, and Insane Luchador is usually much more comfortable in a hardcore environment,” Pete says. “Yes, that’s true. I’m a genius, aren’t I? Maybe Luchador will go crazy...heh, Insane Luchador going crazy...anyway, maybe he’ll just wail on Lil’ Buck for a minute and get this match over with quickly. We can’t have Scott Pretzler tear apart Spike Jenkins quickly enough, if you ask me.” “Well, it’s a good thing that nobody ever asks you.” “And his opponent, from Lanett, Alabama, he weighs in at two hundred, seventy pounds, Sugarhill’s Finest, LIIL’ BUCK!” Funyon shouts. Crime Mob’s “Knuck if You Buck” thumps out over the speakers as Lil’ Buck appears on the entranceway, popping the collar of his Oscar Robertson jersey and taking a long drink from his pimp cup. Buck raises his free arm, hoping to get some support behind him, and heads down the ramp. The Arrogant Alabaman places his cup on the apron, shrugs off his jersey, hands both items to Funyon, and climbs into the ring. Jaleel “Steve Urkel” White checks for concealed weapons, as well as any loose change, but comes up empty-handed in both searches, and signals for the bell. DING! DING! DING! Buck circles around, looking for an opening, but IL is too fast and fires off a jab. The Gangsta of Love shakes off the blow and moves in, but Luchador sidesteps and lashes out with a forearm. Rickmen gets behind Buck and drives an Emerica into the back of Buck’s right knee, dropping Sugarhill’s Finest. “Insane Luchador seems to have found Lil’ Buck’s weak spot. Both of his legs were beaten in his match with Lord David at Battleground, and it looks like they haven’t completely recovered,” Longdogger points out. “Or maybe, it just really hurts to get kicked in the knee. Ever thought about that?” King wonders. Before Lil’ Buck can get to his feet, Luchador lets loose with a dropkick to the back of Buck’s head. IL rolls the Arrogant Alabaman over and makes a lateral press. ONE! TW--NO! aaaAAAAAH! “And Luchador shows how much of his brain has been damaged by attempting a pin this early in the match,” King says. “Well, to paraphrase the word of some guy whose name I forget, you wrestle to win! There was no harm in Insane Luchador seeing if he could get a quick victory. No point in risking serious injury if you can win early,” Pete replies. Luchador waits for Lil’ Buck to get to his feet, and pounces, kicking Buck in the jaw. IL follows up with a left hook and a jumping knee. The Gangsta of Love stumbles back, and IL follows him, jumps into the air, scissors Buck’s head, and takes him to the mat. “Nice flying head scissors from Insane Luchador to follow up that flurry of strikes. He needs to stick with this game plan of attacking quickly and not letting Lil’ Buck hit back,” Pete notes. “You know, that’s what pretty much everyone’s strategy against Lil’ Buck should be, and has been, but he hasn’t lost yet, so maybe Luchador should try to drop Buck on his head a few times,” King spits back. Andrew springs to his feet, moments before Lil’ Buck gets to his knees, and rushes forward, snaring Buck with a front facelock. Insane Luchador falls backwards, pulling the Gangsta of Love to the mat with a DDT. IL isn’t done, though, and he rolls through, stands, and drops for another DDT. Luchador gets back up, but before he can hit another DDT, Lil’ Buck swings wildly, nailing IL in the jaw. Luchador releases Buck, and Sugarhill’s Finest lets loose with an elbow, catching IL above the eye. “Insane Luchador managed to get two rolling DDTs, but Lil’ Buck fought him off, and it looks like the tables are about to turn,” Pete states. “Say, Pete, do you think that you could go one whole night without using one stupid cliché?” King asks. Buck closes in, wraps his arms around IL’s body, picks the HCG champ up, pivots, and drives Luchador into the mat. The Gangsta of Love turns slightly, grinding his forearm into IL’s face as he makes a cover. ONE! TWO--NO! rrrrRRAAAAAH! Buck pulls IL up by his hair and whips Rickmen into the ropes. The Arrogant Alabaman scoops Andrew up off the rebound, but before Lil’ Buck can twist Insane Luchador around too much, IL slaps on a front chancery, spins out, and drives Buck into the mat with another DDT. “Luchador managed to kick out after that side belly-to-belly suplex from Lil’ Buck, and he countered Ridin’ Spinners nicely with that DDT,” says Pete. “Has that moron ever actually connected with that damn thing?” “I’m sure he has, but since I don’t have Lil’ Buck’s tapes on hand right now, I can’t give you specific instances,” Pete replies. Rickmen kips up, pulls Lil’ Buck to his feet, and heads for the ropes. IL bounces off and flies towards Buck, who easily catches the smaller Luchador in mid-air. Sugarhill’s Finest turns IL slightly and starts spinning around. “Lil’ Buck plucked Insane Luchador out of the sky, quashing that cross body block attempt, and now Lil’ Buck is preparing to send Luchador on a ride with an airplane spin powerslam!” Pete shouts. “Ever hear of a period, Longdogger? That sentence was more run-on than a...uh...” King mumbles. “Ever hear of finishing up an analogy, King?” Lil’ Buck stops abruptly, stumbles forward, and drops to the mat. Sugarhill’s Finest stays down, and it takes Jaleel White a moment to realize he’s pinning Luchador. ONE! TWO--NO! rrrRRRAAAAAAAH! IL kicks out, and Buck quickly hauls him to his feet. Lil’ Buck takes a step back, and unloads with a right hand. Rickmen staggers backwards, but stays on his feet. Luchador closes in on Sugarhill’s Finest and fires off two jabs of his own, but gets rocked with a forearm from Buck. Andrew shakes it off as best he can and answers back with pair of uppercuts. “Insane Luchador might want to rethink this strategy. It’s very likely that he’s tougher than Lil’ Buck, but there’s no way that he’s stronger than him,” Pete states. “I’m glad you said that, Pete. It’s really hard sometimes to tell if the guy that’s almost three hundred pounds is stronger than the guy that’s barely two hundred or not.” Buck pulls back his left arm and lashes out with an elbow that spins Insane Luchador around. The Gangsta of Love moves quickly, snaring IL’s neck and drops to the mat with a neckbreaker. Buck pulls Luchador up, keeps hold of his wrist, and pulls IL towards him. Rather than a short-arm clothesline, the Arrogant Alabaman wraps his arms around Andrew’s head once more, spins, and kicks his legs out, yanking Insane Luchador down to the mat. “Insane Luchador just got Bucked Up! That certainly can’t be good for his neck, especially if Lil’ Buck is planning on either the Buck-Wild Ride or the Champion’s Requiem,” Longdogger comments. “Maybe that’s why Buck did it. It softens up his opponent for his finishing moves. That’s a real novel idea, huh? Can’t believe nobody else has thought of that. Ever.” Lil’ Buck releases the sleeper before Jaleel White can check on IL, and pulls Luchador to his feet. Buck slams a knee into Andrew’s stomach, and reaches down, grabbing IL’s right hand. Sugarhill’s Finest threads Rickmen’s arm between his legs and hooks his other arm. The Gangsta of Love picks Insane Luchador up, turns him around, and sits out, driving IL head-first into the canvas. “Pumphandle piledriver from Lil’ Buck! That ought to Pump Up the crowd, huh King? Really Pump them Up, right?” Pete asks. “What the hell are you talking about? The fans seem pretty split on who to cheer for to me,” King replies. Buck stays on the mat, rolls over and hooks IL’s legs while Jaleel drops to make the count. ONE! TWO--NO! aaaAAAAAAHH! “Insane Luchador proving just how tough he is! He may not be standing after Lil’ Buck punches him in the face, but he won’t be down for long!” Pete shouts. “Good for him. Let’s give him a medal,” King replies. Buck pulls IL to his feet and fires off a left hook that hits nothing. Still crouching, Luchador lashes out with a kick to the side of Buck’s knee, then jumps up, wraps his arms around Buck’s head, and falls to the mat. “Nice jawbreaker from Insane Luchador. That just might give him an opportunity to retake control of this match,” Pete notes. “I thought you were saying he was already in control of the match a few seconds ago. You know, the whole ‘Luchador can get punched in the face a thousand times and still get back up’ thing?” IL gets to his feet, rolls Buck over and makes for the turnbuckles. Luchador climbs to the top and jumps off, dropping a leg across Buck’s throat. Rickmen shifts his weight quickly and covers the Gangsta of Love. ONE! TWO! TH--NO! aaaAAAAAAAH! “That top rope leg drop was not enough to put Lil’ Buck away, but it was pretty close to finishing him off,” Pete states. “And if it did beat Lil’ Buck, I don’t think I’d be the only person to laugh Buck out of the stadium tonight,” King adds. Insane Luchador pulls Lil’ Buck to his feet and fires off a jab. Buck’s head snaps back, but Sugarhill’s Finest lets loose with a jab of his own. Buck catches IL with a left hook, then drops down and starts peppering Rickmen’s torso with punches. Buck takes a step away from the punch-drunk IL, and shoots out his left arm, only to pull it back inches from Luchador. The Arrogant Alabaman cocks his arm back again, only to stop short of IL once more. “What the hell is that idiot doing? Just hit him!” King yells. “It looks like Lil’ Buck is showing off his DJ skills! He’s air scratching!” Pete shouts. Buck scratches his invisible record again, pulls his arm back, and just as Luchador is regaining his sense, Lil’ Buck drills him with an elbow. aaaAAAAH! “What an elbow from Lil’ Buck! He lulled Insane Luchador into a false sense of security with by air scratching, and then unleashed with an elbow that would make Danny Williams proud,” Pete says. “Well, I’m not so sure about that, but it’s not like it’s hard to confuse Insane Luchador, though he’s still on his feet,” King points out. IL is in fact still standing, though he’s quickly reeling backwards and comes in contact with the ropes. Buck charges down the HCG champ and jumps, nailing Andrew with a clothesline that sends him over the top rope and nearly produces the same fate for Lil’ Buck. Sugarhill’s Finest holds tight to the ropes to stop him from taking a tumble, while Luchador grazes the ring apron and falls to the ground. rrrRRRAAAH! “What a leaping clothesline from Lil’ Buck! That nearly took Insane Luchador’s head clean off!” Pete shouts. “I don’t know, Pete. Have you ever tried to take someone’s head off with a clothesline? It’s pretty tough. I mean, I can do it in one shot, but there’s no way that Lil’ Buck is as skilled as I am,” King adds. Before Jaleel White can start his ten count, Lil’ Buck clumsily rolls over the top rope and drops down next to Insane Luchador. Sugarhill’s Finest pulls Andrew Rickmen to his feet and plants a Dada into his stomach, doubling the Hardcore Gamer’s champion over. The Gangsta of Love pulls IL into a standing head scissors, reaches down, and grabs Rickmen’s arms. Buck crosses them, switches his grip to hold Luchador’s wrists, and lifts Andrew off his feet. The Arrogant Alabaman turns IL upside down and then slams him into the grass. “Pyramid driver from Lil’ Buck! That might be it for Insane Luchador. The only question is does Buck leave him outside and get a count out victory, or pull him in the ring for the pin?” Pete asks. “The pin, I hope. Not because it’s more legitimate, or anything, but because it’s quicker, and I don’t know if I can stand ten more seconds of this match,” King says. Buck, it would seem, wants to continue Suicide King’s suffering, and pulls himself into the ring, leaving Insane Luchador laying on his back and forcing Jaleel White to start a ten count. One! Two! Three! Four! Insane Luchador rolls over on his side. Five! Six! Luchador gets to his knees and leans against the ring steps. Seven! Eight! IL pulls himself to his feet and braces himself on the apron. Nine! RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!! The crowd nearly explodes as Andrew Rickmen manages to roll himself into the ring nanoseconds before Jaleel White counts to ten. “He made it! Insane Luchador beat the ten count! I can’t believe it!” Pete screams. “Add me to that club,” King mumbles. Buck drops an elbow across IL’s back before Andrew can get off the mat. Sugarhill’s Finest pulls Luchador off the mat and shoots him into the ropes. Rickmen bounces off the rebound and does a back flip after getting blasted with a double axhandle from Lil’ Buck. “My goodness! It’s a miracle that Insane Luchador isn’t bleeding from all of these attacks to his face,” Longdogger says. “Maybe the referee will stop the match if he starts bleeding,” King says hopefully. The Gangsta of Love bends down to pick Insane Luchador off the mat, but IL reaches up, grabs Buck, and pulls him to the canvas in a small package. Jaleel White reacts quickly, dropping to count the pin. ONE! TWO! THRE---NO! aaaaAAAAH! “Insane Luchador almost stole this match away with that roll up! I bet that if it had gotten the three count, Lil’ Buck would be none too happy to have lost to such a basic move,” Pete says. “Well, sucks to him if he would have lost.” IL gets to his feet, with Buck not far behind. Luchador fires off two quick punches, but the third doesn’t even happen as the Arrogant Alabaman lands a punch of his own. Buck follows after the reeling Luchador, grabs his arm, and whips him into the corner. Lil’ Buck ambles in after Insane Luchador, and drives an elbow into Rickmen’s head. Buck slams his knee into IL’s stomach, picks Luchador up, and sets him on the top turnbuckle. “It looks like Lil’ Buck is going to go for the Dirty South Thang! Will Insane Luchador be able to survive if Buck hits it?” Pete wonders. “Why the hell are you asking me? Just watch the match and we’ll find out!” King shouts. Lil’ Buck stands on the bottom rope and fires a forearm shot into Insane Luchador’s jaw for good measure before climbing up to the second buckle. The Gangsta of Love lands a punch to Rickmen’s gut, and hooks Andrew’s arms. Buck tries to pull Luchador off the top rope, but IL stays put, his feet hooked under the middle rope. Buck lets go of Luchador’s left arm to slam a few punches into the side of IL’s head. Lil’ Buck re-hooks Luchador’s arm, but still can’t pull IL from the top turnbuckle. Buck lets go of both of Rickmen’s arms, grabs his shoulders, and delivers two sharp headbutts. “Insane Luchador is putting up one hell of a fight, and I can’t blame him. I sure wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of a Dirty South Thang,” Pete says. “Well, when you find someone who does want to get one, you’ll have found a person in this world even dumber than you are,” King replies. Sugarhill’s Finest adds a bitch slap for good measure, and grabs hold of Insane Luchador’s arms once again. Buck leaps back, and is successful in pulling Rickmen from the corner. The two travel down to the mat, and bounce upon impact. aaaaAAAAAAAH! “Buck finally hit it! This just might be it!” Pete shrieks. It’s not quite over, as neither man seem to be able to get to their feet, forcing Jaleel White to start a ten count. One! Two! Three! Buck rolls onto his stomach. Four! Five! Six! Buck crawls towards Luchador. Seven! The Gangsta of Love reaches Rickmen. Eight! Buck rolls IL onto his back. Nine! Lil’ Buck reaches out and drapes an arm across Insane Luchador’s body. Jaleel White drops to his knees and counts the pin. ONE! TWO! THREE! NO!! RRRAAAAAAAAH!!!! “He kicked out! Insane Luchador kicked out of the Dirty South Thang! How much punishment can this man take?” Pete asks. “No, no, no! Damn you, Insane Luchador! Didn’t anyone ever tell you to just lay down and take a loss when the Suicide King wants your match to be over so he can see Scott Pretzler and Jay Hawke destroy Spike Jenkins and Johnny Dangerous, respectively?” King shouts. Lil’ Buck gets to his feet, wondering just what he has to do to put Insane Luchador away. He pulls the HCG champ up and slaps on a front chancery. Sugarhill’s Finest slams a few half-hearted forearms onto IL’s back, before threading his arm under Rickmen’s arm and locking wrists by Andrew’s chin. “No! Lil’ Buck is getting desperate, and it looks like he’s about to go for Knuck if You Buck! That could snap Insane Luchador’s neck! Come on, Buck, you don’t have to resort to that!” Longdogger pleads. “Shut up, Pete! Go, Buck! It’ll finally be something interesting in this match,” King says. Buck lifts, but at the same time, IL flips forward, wrapping his legs around the Arrogant Alabaman’s neck. Luchador pulls back and lets go, sending the Gangsta of Love through the ropes! rrrrRRRRRAAAAAAAAAH! “Luchador countered! He countered the Knuck if You Buck with a headscissor takedown!” shouts Pete, relieved. “Damn it! Nothing fun ever happens around here!” moans King. Jaleel heads to the ropes to begin the ten count, but Luchador pushes him out of the way and heads for the opposite ropes. IL bounces off and heads full speed towards the side of the ring Lil’ Buck is on. Rickmen leaps, arms close to his body, and flies towards Lil’ Buck like a human missile, striking Sugarhill’s Finest directly in the chest. aaaaAAAAAAAH!! “Suicide dive from Insane Luchador! And might I add that these fans sure are excitable!” Pete shouts. “Of course they are! This is South America we’re talking about! The economy of every country here is based on drugs.” Jaleel takes a quick glance to make sure neither wrestler is dead, and begins the ten count. One! Buck rolls over onto his stomach. Two! Insane Luchador gets to his knees. Three! Lil’ Buck gets to his feet, with IL not far behind. Four! Buck takes a few steps towards the apron, but gets punched in the back of his head. Five! Buck turns as IL is pulling his fist back for another blow and manages to grab Rickmen’s arm as it flies past. A quick turn later, and Luchador’s face is on a one-way trip to the ring apron. Six! “What an armbar takedown from Lil’ Buck! He just smashed Insane Luchador’s face into the ring apron!” Pete yells. Seven! Buck rolls IL under the bottom rope and slides into the ring himself, stopping the count. “Insane Luchador had the advantage after that suicide dive, but he lost it just as quickly after that voyage into the ring apron,” Pete states. “I wish you’d take a voyage to a black hole,” King mutters. Buck stands, pulls Luchador up as well, and sends him into the turnbuckles. Buck barrels in after IL, driving his knee into Andrew’s midsection moments after impact. Lil’ Buck grabs the bent double Rickmen by the back of his head and leads him out of the corner. Sugarhill’s Finest steps in front of Insane Luchador, turns around, and hooks his arms. “Looks like Insane Luchador is about to go on a Buck-Wild Ride! I know he’s survived a lot tonight, but I don’t think he’ll be able to kick out if Lil’ Buck hits this!” Pete roars. “Yes! Cave his head in and be done with this abomination of a wrestling match!” King shouts, even louder than Longdogger. Lil’ Buck pauses a moment, not out of arrogance, but exhaustion, but quickly rotates under Insane Luchador’s body, letting the Hardcore Gamer’s champion rest on his back. IL isn’t content to simply lay down and give up, and proceeds to thrash his body as best he can in his current state. Rickmen manages to free his left arm, rolls forward, and drops down in front of Lil’ Buck. “Insane Luchador escaped! He found a way, and freed himself, but he’d better act quickly!” Pete warns. “And my punishment for whatever I must have done in a past life, like this match, continues,” King adds. Insane Luchador turns around and snares Buck in a front facelock. IL simply stands, an even more crazed look in his eyes, and then falls back. Or, rather, attempts to fall backwards, but Lil’ Buck stops that idea with a shove, sending IL into the ropes. As Luchador bounces back, Sugarhill’s Finest straightens up and grabs hold of IL’s arms. Buck cinches in the full nelson, lifts Rickmen off his feet, and plants him on the mat. The Arrogant Alabaman leans over, folding Insane Luchador in half while Jaleel White looks on. “Champion’s Requiem! Lil’ Buck managed to fend off the Evenflow DDT from Insane Luchador, and now has Luchador trapped in the Champion’s Requiem!” Pete bellows. “Come on, Luchador, tap out and end this thing!” King shouts encouragingly. Buck rests even more weight on IL’s back, nearly causing Luchador’s forehead to touch the mat, and forcing Jaleel White to lay on his stomach to check on IL. Luchador, do you give up? White asks. No IL mumbles in response. Ask ‘im again! barks Lil’ Buck. Insane Luchador, do you give up? White asks, louder than before. N...no... Rickmen says, struggling to get out the word. “He’s still got some fight left in him, but Insane Luchador has no hope of escaping the Champion’s Requiem!” Pete yells. “Yeah, but Insane Luchador has never been big on brains,” King replies. C’mon! Ask ‘im! Buck rages. Insane Luchador, do you submit? Jaleel asks again. ...n...n...no... mutters IL, barely audible to even White. yes... IL trails off, arms hanging limply at his sides. Jaleel White leaps to his feet and signals for the bell to be rung and Lil’ Buck releases Insane Luchador. DING! DING! DING! “Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match by submission, LIIL’ BUCK!” Funyon bellows over the crowd. “And it’s over! Insane Luchador put up a great fight, but in the end, Lil’ Buck was just too strong for him,” Pete says. “Yeah, what is with that? Does somebody in the front offices have a interest in seeing Lil’ Buck succeed? He’s being handed cruisers left and right! I demand an investigation, damn it!” King screams. Buck grabs his jersey and cup, and heads up the ramp as “Knuck if You Buck” blasts once more as Lockdown goes to a commercial for Danny Williams’ Strong Style Ribs: “Two-for-Tuesday! Withstand two of my elbows, and get your next two meals at Danny Williams’ Strong Style Ribs for free! Danny Williams' Strong Style Ribs is not responsible for any injuries sustained, and has no liability in regards to medical bills." Edited May 6, 2005 by Ace309 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Ace309 0 Report post Posted May 5, 2005 (edited) Back we swoop, to Martial Law's dressing room, where the decidedly downbeat former International Champion Landon Maddix sits with his head down, lacing up his boots. Hovering above him, Todd Cortez, getting in some last minute shadow boxing preperations...and Megan Skye, watching on. As Cortez continues to pound his shadow with some jabs a rap at the door from one of the SWF staff sends heads towards the door...all except Maddix's. "You're on guys." comes the voice from behind the door, followed by footsteps. Without looking up, Maddix finishes off his boots and solemnly walks towards the door. Megan beats him to it, stepping out as Maddix lets her by...but is suddenly stopped, by Cortez's arm thrust in his path. "You ready?" Maddix nods. "Look...I know you're pissed off. I understand that. But you know how big this is. Just...just try to get your head in the game, eh?" Brushing past Maddix, Cortez opens the locker room door...only to find it slammed shut by Maddix, now face to face with his tag team partner who glares right into The Urban Legend's eyes. "Me...get my head in the game!?!" "Yeah..." "Don't you worry about me, Todd. You just worry about yourself." "And what's that supposed to mean?" "That means..." Maddix takes a step in, getting nose to nose with Cortez briefly. "...keep your hands OFF of Megan and ON that tag rope, and we'll be just fine." The two Martial Law team-mates remain nose to nose for a few more moments, before Maddix re-opens the door with a forced smile. Megan looks in curiously at what's taking Todd and Landon so long and is relieved to see Cortez return the smile, just as forced as Maddix's, before the two leave the locker room. Big break to edit in promo - TMF “And we return to SWF Lockdown after the intense encounter between Insane Luchador and Lil’ Buck,” says Pete, welcoming back the fans watching around the world. “We’re here live from the Paca … Pacaembu Stadium in Sao Paulo, Brazil!” continues LDP. “You are not the most cultured man in this building, by far,” teases King. “Pipe down. We have tens of thousands here tonight in this most historic stadium!” Pete continues. Before the duo can continue, Funyon stands in the center of the ring, holding the microphone to his lips. “The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall!” he screams. The Brazilian fans in attendance break into cheers as “Save Yourself” booms over the archaic public address system. After a moment, a chain of professionally executed explosions rock across the stage. Stepping out of the fire is Todd Cortez and Landon Maddix. Standing next to them is Megan Skye, who draws some wolf-whistles from the fans. Landon notices this, and a slight twinge of jealousy shows on his visage. “Now making their way to the ring, being accompanied by Megan Skye, at a combined weight of four-hundred forty-six pounds, “La Cucaracha” LAANDON MADDIXX, and “The Urban Legend” TODD CORRTEZZZ! MAAARRRTIAAAALLLL LLLAAAAWW” An echoing chant can be heard over the music through the stadium. “LANDON MADDIX! LANDON MADDIX!” “The only reason I see these Brazilian’s chanting Maddix’s name is the fact it has two syllables in both the first and last name,” says King. “You mean it has nothing to do with the fact that he is a true Superstar that has held many titles. For example, the title of Clusterfuck Battle Royal winner?” says Pete. “Nope.” Landon makes sure to soak up the adulation of the fans as he and the rest of his trio take the long walk to the ring. His “Shakespeare Says” taunt delights the fans. Meanwhile, Cortez quickly walks to the ring. He is all business tonight. Maddix stumbles for a moment, but manages to keep up with his partner. Skye falls behind. “Things haven’t been going very well for Martial Law. There is uneasiness between all three people walking down to the ring. There have been rumors of an affair between beautiful Megan and Landon. As well, Maddix has been gotten on Todd’s nerves as of late,” says Pete. “Oh as the world turns. Who is the father of Megan’s unborn child? Landon? Todd? Janus??” says King. “In all seriousness though, how is Landon’s knee? He got it worked on rather nicely by Jay Hawke last week in his International Title loss. So many questions in this match.” Finally, Martial Law enters the ring. Cortez climbs in first, followed by Landon, who holds the ropes open for Megan to climb through. After entering the ring, Martial Law lifts their arms as, drawing a cheer from the fans in attendance. After having a quick talk with her clients, Skye exits the ring, holding onto Landon’s discarded Adidas top. “WE FEED….THIS HUNGER….FOR HORROR!” White explosions erupt from the stage, sending the Brazilian crowd into frenzy. The explosions don’t blind the entire outdoor venue, but instead create a nice lightning strike effect to most of the audience. The Raging Bull Manson and Archie Griffon come out from behind the curtain and onto the stage. Fans cheer as the two begin their walk to the ring. Arch power walks to the ring, his eyes set on Maddix and Cortez in the distance. Manson too, is focused on his opponents, but still takes time to through up some metal horns. A sea of fans answers back with their own. “And their opponents, weighing in at a combined weight of five-hundred forty-two pounds, MMAAAAANSON, and AARRRRCH GGRRRRRIFOOONN!” Griffon and Manson continue on their way down the ramp. “These two men are on a roll, King. Two straight victories, and they are going for a third,” says Pete. “These two guys haven’t done too much when you break it down. They beat lesser men in Muhammed Koran and Austin Sly, and then snuck by Revolution Zero after Griffon tackled Scott Pretzler before Scott could make the save,” says King. “Well, all that is for sure is that this may be an unofficial number one contendership match for the Tag Team Titles. Martial Law wants another shot, meanwhile Manson and Griffon are just hungry,” says Pete. “And who wouldn’t want to be part of the team that dethroned Wild and Dangerous from their tag team perch,” says King. As Manson and Griffon climb into the ring, Senior Referee Mathew Kivell checks Martial Law for weapons and finds none. After both Manson and Griffon go about their stretching exercises, they too are checked for weapons, with negative results. “The Raging Bull and Griffon have a one hundred pound weight advantage on their opponents, but Todd and Landon have speed and agility on their side,” says Pete. “These guys need to keep Martial Law grounded to walk away with the win,” answers The Suicide King as Kivell calls for the bell. *DINGDINGDING* “And here we go. Sao Paulo, Brazil, on a humid evening where it’s hard to breathe. Rain showers have been passing through the area today, as well,” says Pete. Griffon starts off the match for his team, and Landon for his. The crowd stirs as the two men circle each other, looking for weaknesses and thinking over their opening strategies. Finally, the two lock up. Maddix makes slight progress on Griffon, until Arch turns it on and shoves Landon. La Cucaracha falls to the seat of his pants, and then does a backwards somersault. Maddix stands back up, and charges Griffon. Arch can’t react in time, and Landon slams a forearm into Griffon’s forehead, staggering him. Maddix sees the success of the move and hits a toned down version, driving Archie back. Landon, satisfied, backs Arch against the near ropes, and attempts an Irish whip. Arch reverses the whip, and sends in Maddix. As Landon comes back, Griffon winds up a clothesline. Landon, however, stops on a dime. He ducks underneath Arch’s clothesline, and then grabs his foe by the back of his neck. Maddix falls to his back, driving Griffon’s face into the mat with The Complete Shot! The crowd as Archie lies stunned on the mat. Maddix quickly goes for the pinfall. “Complete Shot on Griffon! This could be over before it starts,” yells LDP. Kivell gets into position. "ONE!" "TWO!!" "TH-NO!!!" The crowd exhales as Arch powers out of the move. Landon climbs back to his feet. He winces as he puts weight onto his banged up left knee. “That poor bastard Maddix still has that bummed knee, Pete. Not surprising considering Jay Hawke hitting him down there with a lead pipe on Storm. Griffon and Manson would be wise to target the knee,” says King, as Griffon slowly climbs to his feet in a daze. He pauses as he gets to one knee. Maddix sees this, and bounces off the near ropes. “RRRAAAHHHHHH!” The crowd roars as they feel The Shining Wizard coming on. Griffon ducks however, and Maddix spins down to the mat. “And Griffon barely avoids The Shining Wizard and Maddix goes tumbling,” says Pete. “It is very hot tonight, and I really believe that these men are going to get tired faster than usual,” says King. Griffon climbs back to his feet now. Maddix does the same. Griffon quickly fires a kick into Maddix’s knee. Landon grimaces and reaches down to grab his knee. Griffon advances, and quickly puts a side headlock on Landon. Archie twists his hips and takes Landon down to the mat. Griffon squeezes hard on the headlock. Maddix looks to reverse, but can’t, as Griffon has too much leverage. “This is the right thing for Griffon to do. Ground him, but he also needs to work on that leg,” says King. “LETS GO LANDON!” repeats the crowd, getting behind the former World Champion. Maddix, with a burst of energy, wills himself back to his feet. Griffon holds on to the headlock, but is forced to let go after Maddix nails a series of elbows into Arch’s midsection. Landon then motors over to the far ropes, and bounces off of them. He comes back, but is sent to the mat after Griffon hits a shoulder block. Archie immediately grabs at Maddix’s left leg, but Landon slithers away and crawls to the near ropes, protecting himself from Griffon. Archie tries to go after him anyway, but Kivell holds him back. Maddix extends his index finger and thumb and puts them a short distance apart from each other, letting Griffon know he was close, but not close enough. “Oh yeah, Landon, taunt a man after you run away from him. So tough, you are,” King says. “A smart move by Landon Maddix,” says LDP, ignoring King. With Griffon fuming, but being held back by the referee, while being talked down momentarily by Manson. Maddix starts to snake over to the corner beside him, where Cortez stands, hand outstretched. Finally Kivell lets Arch go, but not before Maddix makes the tag to Todd. *SLAP* “RAAAHHH!” “And in comes Todd Cortez,” announces Pete. Cortez charges in, and nails Griffon with a hard palm thrust to the mouth. Archie’s head snaps back and he stumbles backwards. The crowd groans after the stiff thrust. Cortez follows with a couple more, causing Griffon to retreat. Cortez grabs onto Griffon’s wrist, and attempts to whip him across the ring. Griffon, however, reverses the whip and turns his body, sending Cortez into Griffon’s corner. Cortez hits the corner chest first, and the first ten rows hear the wind coming out of his chest. Todd crumples to the mat, grasping his chest. “What power from Griffon. He just knocked the wind out of a fresh man,” says Pete. “Martial Law need to realize that Griffon is not a cruiserweight and they cannot toss him around,” warns King. Griffon wipes the sweat from his brow, and advances to the corner. He drags Cortez to his feet, and pushes him into the corner. Todd takes another deep breath as Archie and Manson exchange a tag. *SLAP* “What is astounding is the way that Manson and Griffon work the way they do, with how long they have been teaming up. They are very comfortable in the ring,” says Pete. The Raging Bull slips into the ring, and immediately spins back towards his foe. Manson tears Todd’s arm away from his chest, and quickly throws in a knife edge chop. “WWHOO!” Manson mixes it up by landing a quick punch to Cortez’s jaw. Cortez grabs his jaw, and Manson, yet again, tears the arms away. Manson lets forth with another chop. “WWHOO!” Cortez grabs his chest once more, and Manson hits a kick to Cortez's gut, doubling him over. Holding Cortez down by the back of the neck, Manson brings up a hard knee into the chest of Cortez, knocking him down to all fours. Cortez breathes hard as Manson brings him up to his feet, but Cortez shakes him off before Manson can get on a roll, having had enough. He throws a kick that hits The Raging Bull right above the hip. Manson absorbs it, but can’t just absorb the onslaught that follows. Todd hits a flurry of thrusts and kicks and the crowd roars as Manson stumbles to the center of the ring. “That martial arts background is really coming in handy for Todd now,” says LDP. “It does take a lot to make Manson retreat like this,” adds in King, as Todd then grabs onto his opponent’s wrist, and whips him into the ropes. Manson rebounds off the ropes to the standing Cortez. Todd leaps up high into the air and puts his legs around The Stampede’s head, and brings him over in a Hurricanrana! The crowd pops as Manson lands hard on the top of his cranium. “A beautiful move from Cortez. He’s started to get into a zone out there,” says Pete. Manson climbs back to his feet, and charges back at Cortez. Todd quickly jumps into the air again and spins. He sticks his right leg out, and catches Manson in the head with his Spinning Wheel Kick! Manson falls to the mat and stays down. Todd goes down and attempts the cover on Manson. He hooks a leg as Kivell gets into position. ONE! TWO!! TH-NO!!! “And Cortez can’t put him away with that combination. Manson is much too tough for that!” Todd climbs back to his feet, still clutching his aching chest after Manson's stinging chops. He slicks the sweat back in his blond mane, and walks over to the fresh Landon. He makes the tag to Landon. *SMACK* The Brazilian crowd pops madly for Landon once more as he enters the ring. He rushes over to Manson. The dazed Bull slowly gets back to his feet. He is flustered, as Maddix lets forth with a lunging forearm that rocks Manson in the jaw. The larger man stumbles back a few steps and Maddix continues the attack with a few more forearms. The Raging Bull winds up slumped up against the ropes. Landon crowds him, and then takes a step back himself. Maddix then fires a clothesline that sends Manson up, over, and to the floor outside. “Martial Law is taking control of this match, King,” says LDP to his partner. “Griffon and Manson are letting the speed and agility of Martial Law to get the best of them,” King answers back. After a scowl directed at Landon, Griffon hops down from the apron, and goes to check on his hurting friend. Maddix sees this develop, and quickly runs to the far ropes. The crowd roars as La Cucaracha runs back towards the two men on the outside. Maddix leaps up, grabs the top ropes, and uses that to fling himself into the two men outside! “Spaceman Plancha on both men,” screams Pete. Cortez comes out of his corner, and makes his way over to the fallen men. A cameraman gets a shot of the concerned expression pasted across Megan’s face. Kivell starts to count the combatants out. ONE! Landon slowly rises to his feet, favoring the left knee for a moment. “Maddix may have to tone down his attacks right now, with that knee in the shape that it is in,” says Pete. “One solid blow to the knee could put him down for the rest of the night,” adds King. TWO! Cortez grabs Griffon and drags him to his feet. Todd throws a right hand which is absorbed by Arch. Griffon answers back with one of his own. Arch and Todd trade punches. Fans behind them cackle in excitement. THREE! Manson fights back to his feet, and showing great fight, starts to fight back with punches to the midsection. La Cucaracha takes one of his world renown shortcuts, as he drives a thumb into Manson’s eye. Landon then follows up with forearms that knocks Manson to his back. “Landon is such a cheating coward,” raves King. FOUR! Maddix notices the count getting a bit high for his liking. He slides into the ring and out again, refreshing Kivell’s count. “A smart move by La Cucaracha,” says Pete. ONE! The stalemate of punches between Cortez and Griffon ends. Archie nails Todd in the stomach with a boot, doubling him over. Acting quickly, Arch wraps both of his arms around Cortez’s ribcage, and then lifts Todd up. Griffon slams Todd down on the floor with a Gutwrench Suplex! “Great suplex by Archie takes Cortez out of the equation,” says Pete. TWO! With Cortez downed next to the steel post, Griffon approaches Landon. Maddix stomps away at Manson, as the larger man rises to his feet. Arch is behind Maddix, and charges. He throws out an arm, and levels Landon in the back of the head with a clothesline! “Landon is cocky, but no one can ignore an enzui lariat like that,” says Pete. THREE! The crowd groans as Maddix hits the mat, immediately clutching the back of his head. Meanwhile, Griffon helps Manson back to his feet. Arch motions his partner to help him with Cortez, who is climbing back to his feet near the ring post. The two approach Cortez, and both stand on opposite sides of the post. Megan Skye takes this opportunity to check on Landon, who is down and indeed hurt. “Skye may be seeing her client’s title rematch floating away,” says Pete. FOUR! The Raging Bull and Griffon pick up Cortez, each taking a hold of one arm. Manson and Arch both lean forward and grab a hold of a shoulder blade a piece. They both do what could be considered a double Irish whip. This whip, however … is right into a ring post! Cortez collides chest first into the post, and then hits the mat, clutching his chest like he needs an open heart surgery. “Oh my! That may have been the hardest thing for me to watch … tonight,” says Pete. “Now both Landon and Todd may have lingering injuries. Also, with this stuffy air, how will Cortez be able to breathe with this pain he is experiencing,” says King. Finally Maddix begins getting up to his feet with the help of Megan, while Manson and Griffon hover over Cortez, and with an evil look in their eyes, begin furously stomping and kicking the helpless Cortez to the slight boos of the fans. Todd does his best to cover up, as Maddix brushes Megan aside and goes to help his partner, as he goes into a run and shoves Manson away from Cortez, sending him tumbling onto the floor. SEVEN! "Boy, Kivell really has to get control of this match," comments LDP. Landon then turns his attention to Griffon and begins wailing on him with a flurry of punches, as Manson gets back up to his feet and catches Maddix from behind with a forearm to the back. Maddix goes down to a knee, and Manson and Griffon lift him up and do the same as they did to Cortez, but instead of the steel post, they send him hurtling into the steps instead! A sickening clang rings out as Maddix collides knees first, flipping up and over the steps, and finally Kivell decides he's had enough, as he angrily points Manson and Griffon back toward the ring. "As much as I'd like to see Manson and Griffon continue their assault," adds King, "it's about time Kivell did something about this." "He could have just let them go at it, but with a match as important as this when it comes to figuring out the tag rankings, you want a definitive victory in the ring for either team," LDP says. "A countout or disqualification would be an awful way to end things, and with the way Griffon and Manson especially tend to lose control of themselves, either is a very real possibility." Kivell heads back into the ring and gets in between Griffon and Manson, and their opponents on the outside. ONE! Kivell restarts the count again as Cortez begins coming to. TWO! And Megan rushes over to help Cortez. THREE! With the help of Megan's directions and encouragement, The Urban Legend begins crawling back toward the ring. FOUR! Still holding his chest and breathing heavy, he languishes as he reaches up and and grabs hold of the apron. FIVE! Kivell continues to stand in between Griffon and Manson, holding them off as best he can, as Todd pulls himself up to his feet. SIX! Todd rests briefly against the apron, as Megan continues trying to talk him into the ring. SEVEN! In the meantime, Maddix begins stirring also, getting to his knees, albeit without the help of Megan, who continues to tend to Cortez. "Cortez better hurry back into the ring!" shouts King. EIGHT! Cortez lifts his leg up onto the apron and takes a moment before making his final push… NINE! "He's in!" announces LDP as Todd pulls himself up onto the apron and rolls back in under the bottom rope just in time. With that out of the way Megan finally heads over Maddix, who has all but climbed back onto the apron as he rests, hunched over the steel steps and desperately flexing his knee, a result of being tossed into the steps and grabbing his head, a result of the lariat to the back of the head. Cortez doesn't have that luxury, however, as Manson immediately rushes over and pulls him up to his feet. Manson turns his shoulder into Cortez and hits him with a chop. "WWHOO!" And a jolt is sent through Cortez as he shoots upright, his body already aching from earlier abuse at the hands of Griffon and Manson. Next, The Stampede pulls him away from the ropes and knees him in the stomach, forcing him over. Placing him in a standing headscissors, Manson thrusts up the horns, and lifts Cortez up by the waist and onto his shoulders. Manson prepares to bring him down for the powerbomb, but Cortez counters, rolling behind Manson with a victory roll! Cortez doesn't hold the pin, however, as both men get to their feet and Cortez jumps, catching Manson with an enziguiri to the back of the head! "ENZIGUIRI!" shouts Pete, as Cortez stumbles over to his corner, but no one is there to make the tag, as Landon continues to groan in agony, but still attempts to climb up onto the aprong. Cortez runs his hands through his hair and laments, as Manson connects with Griffon for a tag! *SLAP* Griffon comes into the ring and clobbers Cortez with another clothesline to the back of the head, and he just slumps down to the mat, but Griffon isn't done yet, as he lifts Cortez up and applies a behind waistlock. Griffon calls for Manson, and with a gleam in his eye, he heads for the right hand side ropes and springs off. Gaining speed, he extends his arm, and absolutely annihilates Cortez with the Western Lariat, giving Griffon momentum for a thunderous German suplex, as he dumps Cortez on the back of his head! "Oh, Jesus! Western Lariat and a German suplex by Manson and Griffon!" LDP exclaims, as Griffon holds on for a pin. "ONE!!" "TWOOOO!" "THREEEEEE!!!" *DINGDING* "Your winners by pinfall, the team of ARRCH GRRRIIIFFFOONNN AND MMAANNNSOONN!" Funyon announces, as Unearth's "Bloodlust of the Human Condition" hits. "And Manson and Griffon win in an upset!" shouts LDP, as Megan hangs her head, and Maddix slaps the apron in frustration before burying his head in his hands. Arch and Manson embrace and celebrate their victory in the center of the ring, before signaling to the cameras, and thus Wild & Dangerous that, "Your belts are ours!" "Yes, Wildchild and Johnny's titles could very well be around the waists of Manson and Griffon soon if they continue on this roll of theirs!" says King. "That they could. First Austin and Koran, then Revolution Zero, and now Martial Law. It's safe to say Griffon and Manson are on their way toward a showdown with W&D," Pete adds, as the two exit the ring. Edited May 5, 2005 by Ace309 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Ace309 0 Report post Posted May 5, 2005 SWF Lockdown returns live from The Pacaembu Stadium in Sao Paulo, Brazil as the SWF continues it’s “It is The End of the World (And We Know It!)” tour around the world. Crazy Brazilian fans fill the soccer arena as they chant for their favorite wrestlers. “Welcome back to Lockdown, fans!” says a filled with anticipation Pete, “We are LIVE in Brazil! Coming to your home as the SWF continues its worldwide tour!” “I wish we just stayed in America.” “Why?” “Excuse me if I rather stay at my palace and drink Pepsi MAX and check MySpace!” “MySpace? Don’t tell me you are addicted to that garbage.” “Garbage? You do know that they sponsor the SWF, right?” “How can MySpace sponsor us?” asks a curious Pete. “Well, after I signed up, I realized how much of a money maker it is and gave away stock to TOM!!” “…And you wonder why people said you were a horrible Commissioner.” “MySpace now owns 51% of the SWF!” “Jesus Christ…” “I have a 2,253 MySpace friends!” “…God, let’s just continue with the show…” “One day, MySpace friends will take the place of currency!” Pete stares at his colleague in astonishment. He shakes his head in pity and cries to the camera, “Let’s just go to the center of the ring…err…field…yeah.” The camera cuts to the middle of the field as the ring is being taken apart by ring crew members. Funyon stands a short distance from the ring as he begins his announcement. “The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is The Brawl-O In San Paulo!!!! This match will be a No Disqualification, Falls Count Anywhere Match! First, making his way to the ring…” Suddenly, the stirring notes of Beethoven’s flood the Pacaembu Stadium, heralding the arrival of Scott Pretzler. The fans begin booing in earnest as the Critic steps out onto the stage. “Introducing first,” says Funyon, “from Toronto, Ontario, Canada, weighing two hundred twenty-six pounds… the ‘Critic,’ SCOTT PUH-RETZLER!” Pretzler stands at the head of the aisle; he stops and stands with his hands at his hips, looking down at the fans with disdain. “Scott Pretzler coming off a loss to Wildchild at Battleground in a ladder match for the title that Pretzler stole off of Spike Jenkins, the SWF World Cruiserweight Championship.” “Stole? He won that title fair and square!” “What are you talking about, King?” questions Pete, “The one-and-only time Scott Pretzler has ever been in the ring with Spike Jenkins was when Toxxic turned on Spike and Pretzler ended the longest Cruiserweight Title reign in history and joined Revolution Zero!” “Well…if you want to talk about a robbery, then we should talk about Wildchild “beating” Scott Pretzler. HIGHWAY ROBBERY!” “You have got to be kidding me.” Pretzler makes his way down towards the center of the field, ready for his match…when Spike flies out from behind him and cracks him over the head with a forearm shot that knocks him to the ground. “HEY! CHEAP SHOT!” screams King. The referee looks around, not sure what to do, signals for the bell. *Ding Ding Ding* “Well…NOW the match is underway.” “BUT HE ATTACKED PRETZLER FROM BEHIND!” “I guess he didn’t forget about losing the Cruiserweight title…” Pretzler shoots up, but is on the receiving end of several open-palm shots to the face that sends him reeling back towards the entrance way. Pretzler turns to strike Spike, but misses a punch as Spike wields back and slaps him across the chest with a knife-edged chop. *SMACK* “WHOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” Scott stumbles towards the entranceway, but instead of going towards the back, he turns to the gate and makes his way into the crowd! Jenkins follows behind him as Pretzler just tries to get away. “Scott Pretzler is trying to get as far away as possible from Spike!” “Well, what do you expect, Pete?” asks King, “Scott is out of his element here. This is not a wrestling match! This is a fight with an angry, crazed lunatic!” “He is getting what he and the rest of Revolution Zero deserves!” Pretzler grabs onto the banister and turns towards the approaching Jenkins. Sensing this is one shot to take advantage and out-strike Jenkins, he leans back and throws a wild haymaker…AND IT CONNECTS!!!! …With Spike’s ear! “He punched Spike in the ear…” sighs King as he lowers his head, “God damn it…” “OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!!!!!” Pretzler looks around the laughing audience with fear in his face as Spike grabs his ear and begins cursing frantically. He snaps at Pretzler with a new look of anger in his face. Pretzler goes to either strike again or protect himself…we don’t really get to find out as before he can do whatever he planned on doing, Spike snapped his head forward and cracked his own skull against Pretzler’s! “OH MY GOD!” Pretzler immediately falls to the ground, grabbing his face after the very stiff head BUTT. “He may have just broken Scott Pretzler’s nose!” Pretzler turns over onto his stomach and starts to climb up the stairs to get as far away from Spike as humanly possible. “That head BUTT was gruesome!” As Pretzler crawls up the stairs, Spike casually follows him, mouthing off with the fans that are 100% behind the former Cruiserweight Champion. “For two former Cruiserweight Champions, they aren’t really doing that much wrestling!” “What are you trying to say, King?” “I want this fist fight to end! This is Professional Wrestling! Not UFC!” Pretzler continues his ascend up the stairs. As he does, Spike lifts both his arms into the air and drives his open palms down onto Scott’s back! *SMACK* Pretzler shrieks in pain as Spike lifts his arms into the air and does it again! *SMACK* “The Critic” turns around and throws a kick at the midsection of Jenkins…who easily dodges out of the way. In return, Spike throws a kick out that connects with the chest of Pretzler and knocks him over onto his back! *CRACK* “Jesus!” cries King. The fans cheer the Hollywood Superstar, as he looks around at the Brazilian crowd. This gives enough time for Pretzler to turn over onto his stomach and continue crawling up the stairs. By the time Spike turns his attention back towards his opponent, Scott climbs to the top of the stairs and collapses. “This has gone on long enough!” shouts King, as Spike climbs up the rest of the stairs. “The match just started…” “I know! But it’s starting to make me cringe!” Jenkins reaches down and grabs Pretzler by the hair. He pulls him up off the ground to a standing position. He turns Pretzler around and pulls him back into a rear face lock. He stands on top of the staircase, looking around the arena at the fans. He uses his free hand to wave over his stunned opponent, signaling for the finish of the match. “Spike signals for the Clean Living!” cries LDP. Spike locks Scott up and spins his body around towards the ground, looking to hit the Clean Living… …But Pretzler stops the move mid-motion and locks Spike in a rear face lock! He grabs Spike by the waist of his pants and pulls him up into the air for a reverse brainbuster!!!! “Pretzler reversed the Clean Living…INTO THE TILDEBANG~!” shrieks King as he marks out at the sign of Pretzler hitting his finishing maneuver. The crowd goes ecstatic as Pretzler lifts Spike’s body into the air. He holds Spike straight up in a 90-degree angle. Spike tries to struggle free, but it is no use. The stronger Pretzler holds him 6-feet into the air. The fans stand in amazement, as the biggest head drop in Brazilian history is about to take place. Pretzler goes to unhook Spike and bring him down on top of his head… …But somehow, Jenkins is able to leverage his weight around and slips out of the reverse suplex and lands on his feet, with a little jerk, behind the Revolution Zero member. The fans explode as he stumbles back, giving himself some space from Pretzler. Scott turns around, just in time to see a boot come charging at him. Spike aims the Yakuza Kick at the chin, but only hits air. Scott ducks out of the way and behind Jenkins. “Spike was fast enough to slip out of the Tildebang on the top of the stairs, but Pretzler dodged the Yakuza Kick,” Spike stumbles on the edge of the stairs, but turns around… …Just in time to see a boot coming at his face. He flies underneath the Yakuza Kick Pretzler sends at him. “Spike ducks the Yakuza Kick as well…” Scott stumbles on the stairs, but catches his balance. He turns around… …To duck underneath ANOTHER Yakuza Kick attempt! Spike quickly turns around, knowing full well that a Yakuza Kick is coming at him again… …And as it does, he pushes the kick away. Pretzler stands stunned, not sure what to do next as him and Spike stare off, face to face. They both stand at the top of the stairwell, quickly thinking of what to do next. …………… Spike is the first one to figure out what to do… …As he kicks Scott Pretzler square in the nuts. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” “LOW BLOW! THAT IS ILLEGAL!” cries King. “Says who? There are no rules in this match!” “Come on! Even I wouldn’t hit a low blow as blatant as THAT!” Pretzler’s face turns purple as he kneels over in pain. Grabbing his crotch in agony, he stumbles around, trying to breath. Spike grabs him by his hair and pulls him into a front face lock. Standing on top of the stairs, Spike hooks him for a suplex… …But Pretzler drops down, wrapping his leg around Spike’s as he bring him down to the ground with a small package! ONE!!!! TWO!!!!!!! THRE----NO!!!! Spike rolls the small package over into his favor!!! ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!! THRE-----NO!!!!!! Pretzler rolls the small package over and he is no on top!!! ONE!!!! TWO!!!!! THREE-------NO!!!! Spike rolls the small package over and he now has control!!! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!! THREE--------------------NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Pretzler rolls the small package over again, into his favor… …But all the rolling has caused them both to lose their place… …And they both roll close to the edge of the staircase… … …… ……………… ……………………… … …And Scott and Spike roll off the top and begin to roll down the stairwell in the stands of the Pacaembu Stadium!!!!! “OH MY GOD!!!!” “WHAT THE HELL?” “HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” Both wrestlers hold onto the small package as they roll down the stairs… …And roll… …And roll… …And roll… …And roll… …And roll… …And roll… …AND ROLL… …And roll…until they finally hit the bottom of the staircase and roll into the guardrail that is meant for protecting the fans from jumping onto the field. The small package is kept intact, but the fall knocked both men out. The small package breaks apart, as both men lay exhausted on the concrete floor… …With Spike on top of Pretzler! ONE!!!! TWO!!!! THREE!!!!! *Ding Ding Ding* “I don’t believe it,” says a stunned Suicide King. “Here is your winner….SPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENKINNNNNNNNSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!” “Spike Jenkins defeats Scott Pretzler after a small package down a flight of stairs…very odd indeed,” says Pete, “Jenkins finally gets his revenge on Pretzler…but he still is after Toxxic.” “This was such a fluke win!” cries King, “THEY FELL DOWN A FLIGHT OF STAIRS! IT WAS PURE LUCK THAT HE HAPPENED TO LAND ON TOP OF PRETZLER!” “Well…I really don’t know what to say. That was an SWF-first, folks. Hell, it might have been a Professional Wrestling first!” “I don’t believe this!” “Fans, we will be right back with SWF Lockdown…LIVE from Brazil!” The camera cuts to Spike Jenkins trying to climb to his feet, with his hand raised in the air in victory… …And Scott Pretzler lying underneath him in an unconscious state. [Cue to Commercial] Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Ace309 0 Report post Posted May 5, 2005 “And welcome back to Brazil where absolutely no members of the SWF cast have been kidnapped!” shouts The Suicide King as we return to Lockdown. “So Pete, what do you think of the action thus far?” The King turns to one side where the Longdogger would usually sit only to find an empty chair and an envelope there. Raising an eyebrow The King of Hearts tears the fold open and quickly reads aloud, “If you ever want to see Grande Perro Pete alive again… HA! HA! HA!” The King wads up the paper and tosses it over his shoulder, “So much for that. Anyway this next match is going to be two guys I don’t like and neither should you! Ejiro Fasaki, who is pussy whipped by someone he’s not even sleeping with, and Mak Francis, lord high punk ass, are going to flop around for a bit in there and I’m going to make fun of all their efforts because I darn well please.” JUSTICE! RULE! POPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOP! “This next contest is scheduled for ONE fall with a thirty-minute time limit!” calls out ring announcer Funyon. “Introducing first, he is accompanied to the ring by his sister, Melissa. Hailing from Sarasota, Florida … this is EEEEEEEEEEEEJIROOOOOOOOOO FASAKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” With his theme song still playing through the soccer stadium, Ejiro Fasaki walks out through the crowd while slapping hands with a few lucky Brazilians. Trailing behind, his sister treats the fans to a whole lot more interaction as she hugs a few children and gives some grandfatherly men kisses on the cheeks. So much time she spends with the crowd that Ejiro is already in the ring warming up as his sister is only halfway down the aisle way. Not paying her all that much mind, Fasaki simply shakes his head and removes his football jersey. Meanwhile, The Suicide King simply slobbers over his manager. “Man, was Melissa poured into those pants and man would like to pour in there with her. I would spank that ass until it was nice and red and… I may have said too much. But who cares? No one in this announce booth!” “So do you wanna’ be a Franchise… And live large… A big house… five cars…” Stepping through the ring curtain, The Franchise looks out to the Brazilian masses and points a finger out to the populace as they eat up the entrance of the trench coat wearing grappler. Dropping his coat at the top of the stage, Francis runs all the way down the aisle and slides into the ring. “The rent charge… Comin’ up in the world, don’t trust nobody… Gotta’ look over your shoulder constantly!” Pulling his sunglasses off his nose, Mak Francis whips the shades virtually in the face of his opponent as Ejiro’s calm visage quickly switches to anger. Quickly stepping into the chest of her brother, Melissa forces him back to a corner as Mak turns his back on his opponent for this evening and steps up to the middle ropes. “I remember the days, when I was a young kid grownin’ up… Lookin’ in the mirror dreamin’ about blowin’ up!” “In case you were wondering,” calls out the Suicide King, “Mak is probably pissed because Ejiro called him a big choker in a magazine that no one reads. The fact is he should be pissed because he HAS come up short in his big matches for a guy who was supposed to be the next great champion.” Stepping off the middle turnbuckle, Mak looks across the ring at his opponent who is now pointing over the shoulder of his sister and spewing a number of baseless accusations about Mak and all of his immediate family. Eventually just grabbing his sister by the shoulders, Ejiro firmly but not forcefully moves his sister out of his path so he can get a measure of the man who was in the main event of Battleground. Noticing the usual padding around Francis’ knee, Fasaki makes a note that Mak is not wearing any sort of protection around the right arm that Toxxic worked over so diligently only two weeks ago. Maybe Mak came out of that match without any long-term damage, or maybe not. There is only one real way to find out. DING! DING! “VIVA EL FRANCHISE! VIVA EL FRANCHISE!” Coming together in the center of the ring, chest-to-chest, Fasaki and Francis jaw back and forth like carnival barkers as the referee looks on questioning when he is going to have actually enforce any rules of wrestling tonight or if its all going to be a debate. Soon that question becomes answered as both men take a step back and come together in a collar-and-elbow tie up. Quickly pulling the smaller Fasaki into a side headlock, Mak holds his opponent in check as Ejiro looks to escape. Trying to affect an escape Ejiro jams a short forearm into back of his opponent before shoving him off into the ropes. Charging back at his opponent, Francis knocks his opponent to the canvas with a shoulder tackle from the left shoulder. Quickly setting himself as Ejiro scrambles up, Francis takes his opponent down yet again with a drop toehold. Floating over the top, The Franchise slaps Ejiro three times on the back of the head before hopping off his downed opponent with a huge smile across his features. “And the first exchange goes to Mak Franchise,” calls out The King of Hearts, “you have to wonder just how long Ejiro can keep his anger in check if Mak keeps trying to play against Fasaki’s temper.” And it does not appear as though Ejiro has mastered the art of Zen just yet as he gets to his feet in a heart beat and takes a swing at the Franchise only to have Mak duck underneath the wild blow. Rising up to his full height as Ejiro bounces out of the corner, Mak peppers his opponent on the top of the head with a hard right hand that knocks The Rule to the canvas. Setting himself as Ejiro gets up to his feet, Mak lets loose a thunderous… CHOP! That backs the former World Champion into the corner once again where Mak can grab a hold of him by the wrist and send him across the ring with an Irish whip. Colliding with the turnbuckle with his chest, Fasaki staggers backward for a moment before Mak is there with a hard dropkick to the back of the head that sends Ejiro down flat on his nose as The Franchise rises to one knee with a lopsided grin on his face. Collecting Ejiro, Mak shoves him backward into a corner and drives another chop across his chest as Fasaki tries to get some breath into his rib cage. But Mak does not give him that moment as he grabs his opponent and sends him back across the ring with another Irish whip. Quickly following Ejiro in Mak tries to clobber his foe with a lariat only to have Fasaki grab the top rope and use it to sling his body over the charging Franchise. Stopping in time to keep from colliding with the post, Mak turns into his opponent and his taken down to the canvas with an arm drag. “CHRIST!” Immediately getting to his feet, The Franchise goes to the other side of the ring as Fasaki looks on with a questioning yet optimistic expression. Holding his right arm close to his body, Mak leans against the top turnbuckle as Ejiro’s glance turns into a wide smile. “Well it appears as though Mak still hasn’t fully recovered from his match with Toxxic,” bemuses The King of Hearts. “And instead of taping up the injury and letting everyone else in the world know it, he left the arm exposed and hoped that Ejiro wouldn’t test it. Well let that be a lesson to you folks, people watch tapes and know when something is screwed up so you might as well tape it up as well as you can.” Knowing that he has a built in advantage all sown up, Ejiro takes his time moving in as Mak tries to shield his injured arm and shoulder as best he can as he meets Ejiro a few feet out from the turnbuckle. Quickly gaining a purchase on the injured wing, Fasaki ducks behind his opponent and jams up with a hammerlock. But before he can really exert any pressure on the hold, Mak sends his healthy left elbow into his opponent’s jaw and knocks Fasaki backward into the corner. Trying to keep his foe off balance, Mak saddles up and sends a left-handed chop across his opponents bow only to have Ejiro quickly rebound with an elbow to the side of the head. But Mak does not really want to keep fighting so much as keep Ejiro off balance and so he goes with a hard kick to the breadbasket. Still having some fire in his injured arm. Francis tosses his opponent into the ropes and knocks Ejiro to the canvas with a hard forearm across the face. WHAM! Quickly getting back to his feet and over his opponent, Mak lines Ejiro up with his knee brace and down on his opponent’s jaw with a measured menace and anger. Staying on Fasaki’s head with the knee, Francis grinds the metal framework around his knee into Ejiro’s features as the former World Champion tries to cover his features as well as he can. Getting off Fasaki at the referee’s urging, Mak looks out to the crowd and raises both hands to the sky as the Brazilian crowd eats it up with a spoon. “VIVA EL FRANCHISE! VIVA EL FRANCHISE!” Watching the crowd with a glint in her eye, Melissa rises up to the ring apron to protest the illegal actions that are still getting Mak cheered regardless. Looking over at the dish now arguing with the official, The Franchise pretty much ignores the intrusion as he slaps his hand across his injured shoulder and maneuvers behind Fasaki as the momentarily blinded Fasaki gets up to his feet. Immediately wrapping his arms around Ejiro’s waist as he gets up only to his knees, Mak tries to force Fasaki into position for a German suplex. But as he tries to arch backward, Ejiro places a leg backward in order to block the toss. Quickly trusting out with his elbow, Ejiro tags Mak around the side of the head twice before reaching down for Mak’s hand in order to break the hold. Twisting around the arm into a wristlock, Ejiro quickly rips arm up and then down and drives Mak to the canvas with the quick hyperextension! “And now there is some serious problems for Mak Franchise as Fasaki finally gets to work on that arm!” calls out the Suicide King. “And in unrelated news, I just got a note from Pete’s kidnappers… they are lowering their demands to $10,000 U.S. currency. Well guys, The SWF does not negotiate with terrorists! And if you want to chop his fingers off and mail them to me next?” The King just smiles at the camera and gives a smile and a thumb’s up. Pulling Mak’s right arm behind his body, Ejiro Fasaki forces his opponent ahead and jams him into a turnbuckle as his sister looks on with a careful eye for any rules bending from her brother. Holding onto his shoulder as he staggers out of the corner, Mak really can’t defend as Fasaki quickly grabs the wrist and twists around again and again until The Franchise is tossed over by the torque of the maneuver. Holding onto the arm even as Mak goes over to the mat, Ejiro quickly applies a top key lock before driving a knee into the elbow and driving it against the canvas. Quickly pulling the arm out of harm’s way, Mak cradles the arm underneath his body as he pushes ahead with his legs in order to get away from his opponent. But escape does lie that way as Ejiro takes him by the back of the head and places his neck over the middle rope. Quickly running from one side of the ring to the other, Fasaki drops on his opponent with all his weight with a straddle. Immediately going to the ring apron, Fasaki lines up his foe for the evening and kicks his head into the stratosphere! Bouncing off the ropes from the force of the impact, Mak lands on the canvas on the back of his head as Ejiro looks out to the crowd and shouts loudly… “GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAL!” Laughing in spite of herself, Melissa puts a hand over her mouth to suppress the giggles as Fasaki heads up to the top turnbuckle as Francis finally starts to get to his feet while cradling his arm against his body. Finally lined up, Ejiro takes to the air for a flying axe handle… KEEEEEEERACK! AND GET A YAKUZA KICK TO THE BRAIN! Flattened to the canvas, Ejiro twitches as though his head was separated from his body. But he does not even have the time to cluck before Mak leans over his body to make a cover for… ONNNNNNNNNNNNEEE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THRENNAAAHHHHHHH! Squirting an arm out from underneath Mak’s right shoulder, Fasaki keeps his match alive as Francis looks to the referee with a glance bordering on begging for a faster cadence. But he can’t stand around forever as Ejiro is already shaking the cobwebs out of his gourd. Grabbing Ejiro around the waist with his good arm, Mak lifts Ejiro off the canvas before jamming him down on his knee with a reverse atomic drop! Bouncing on the canvas on his tip toes like a very pretty ballerina, Ejiro looks around pained until Mak sends him to the ground yet again with a left handed lariat. Moving out of the ring and to the apron, Mak looks down at the stunned Fasaki knowing that he will not be able to overcome a prolonged assault on his shoulder. Grabbing the top rope, Mak leans back in order to slingshot himself over the top only to find that his right arm just doesn’t have the strength to pull him up to the top that way. And so instead, the Franchise heads all the way to the top turnbuckle as Ejiro staggers about the ring for a moment as though waiting for some sort of opening. Finding whatever it was he was looking for, Ejiro leaps ahead and drops all his weight on the top ropes as Mak falls strait down… DING! “ARRRRR ME GROIN!” mocks The Suicide King with a chuckle as Mak falls forward off the top turnbuckle and to the hard canvas below. “Oh and by the way kidnappers, I don’t have any fingers here yet! How am I supposed to believe that you’d kill Pete with no FINGERS! HELLO! And lowering your demands all the time does not impress me either. God, why don’t you just pay me to take him back?” About as unfeeling as King is about Pete, Ejiro pulls Mak towards the center of the ring and pulls his legs into the air. Looking out to the crowd with a smile, Ejiro raises his boot into the air with the promise of more smashing of wang only to stop himself from the rules infraction and drive a knee into the back of Mak’s often injured knee instead. Looking out to his sister on the floor and getting a thumb’s up in response, Fasaki enjoys the approving look of his sister before getting back to work on his opponent. Grabbing the slightly limping The Franchise around his primary target of the right arm again, Fasaki cinches up for a moment before falling backward to the canvas with a single arm DDT! Immediately pushing the shouting Franchise over onto his back, Ejiro Fasaki hooks the arm into a pinning combination for… ONNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEENOOOOO! Kicking strong with his legs, Mak forces his shoulders off the canvas as the referee holds two fingers up into the air to show that the match will indeed continue. Grabbing at the wrist, Ejiro tries to pick Mak back and off the mat only to have Mak rip his arm free and hide it under his body for some sort of protection. But such one-dimensional protection strategies don’t really work when the other party is totally cool with kicking his opponent in the back of the head in order to get another shot at the arm. “Now some of you folks sitting behind your computers trying to pretend you know something about wrestling might be typing something like, ‘dood why not he just lock on the crossface and uncle Mak, that wood ROXOR! (Y)(Y)’” begins The Suicide King as Ejiro punts Mak across the ribs. “Well genius, Mak has to know that the crossface is coming and Ejiro has to know that Mak knows. So what you do is wait for the other guy to be in such bad shape he couldn’t possibly counter. Otherwise you’re walking dead on into a trap!’ Finally getting Mak to expose that arm once again, Ejiro pulls the arm behind his back and into a straddling arm bar as the crowd looks on wondering if Mak will tap for the second time in two matches. But Mak is not about to make it so easy on his opponent as he pounds his fist in the air trying to muscle some way out of the submission predicament he now finds himself in at the moment. But he is not alone in that hope as his Brazilian fan base starts to rally around the Franchise of the Smarks Wrestling Federation… “FRAN-CHISE! FRAN-CHISE! FRAN-CHISE! FRAN-CHISE!” Reaching out with his free left arm and driving forward with his knees, Mak pushes the pile forward as Ejiro concentrates on getting the most damage out of the hold as possible. Pushing against the elbow as hard as he can, Ejiro holds onto the wing and is seemingly oblivious to Mak’s efforts as far as getting to the ropes is concerned. But just as The Franchise gets just within reach of the ropes, Fasaki immediately wrenches his opponent to one side and reestablishes his base in order to keep Mak’s free arm on the far side of the ropes. But as close as he is, Mak quickly goes down to his side and kicks a leg out as far as he can in order to get the toe of his wrestling boot underneath the bottom ring ropes. “Break!” calls out the official as Ejiro tosses the arm to one side in order to follow the rules to the letter as instructed by his sister. “God,” bemoans The Suicide King, “to see Ejiro so de-fanged at this point in his career is almost sad. The time was, Fasaki would use the rules to his advantage in order to get the most out of each and every opportunity. Now? He’s a shell!” Taking Mak by the wounded wrist yet again, Ejiro pulls the wounded arm away from the body before jamming down on the shoulder with a hard elbow that sends Mak down to a knee. Hopping to his feet, Mak retreats to a corner as Ejiro looks on with a careful eye while slowly moving in on his foe. But Mak is too quick with a boot to the chest that catches Ejiro coming in and uses his left hand to bounce Fasaki’s head off the top turnbuckle. Quickly trying to take some sort of offense, Mak rips a chop against the pectorals of The Rule with a sickening…. SLAP! BAM! BAM! But Fasaki hammers right back with two hard elbows to the side of the head that knocks the wounded Franchise down to one knee. His ire up from the mild shots, Ejiro continues to hammer home the elbow with sickening precision. BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! “Now THAT’S what I like to see!” giggles The King of Hearts as Ejiro just lets go of the back of Mak’s head and allows him to collapse to the mat a bruised heap. Quickly pushing Mak over onto his back, Ejiro looks to put this match away with that last gasp of brutality… ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOO! THREEEENAHAHAAAHHHHHH! BUT MAK KICKS OUT! “FRAN-CHISE! FRAN-CHISE! FRAN-CHISE! FRAN-CHISE!” Looking out to the crowd and then to his sister with his hands on his hips, Ejiro wonders to himself just why the crowd is rallying around the guy that has been getting his clocked cleaned for what seems like the vast majority of the contest. Hasn’t Ejiro wrestled just as cleanly if not more so? But he really can’t get into the philosophical ramifications of that as he still has a match to win if he ever wants to get a shot at the World Championship. Pulling Mak up to his feet again, Ejiro bashes him in the face with a hard elbow to the ear and sends the Franchise to his knees. Quickly turning, Ejiro runs the ropes in order to get a full head of speed for a running elbow… He’s had better ideas… WHAMMMMMMMM! “RAILGUN SUPLEX!” calls out The Suicide King as Ejiro lands on the small of his back. “Of course, Mak wasn’t able to wrap both arms around Fasaki as tightly as possible and take him over the top. It was actually almost more of a hip toss, but I really can’t question the results.” Actually up to his feet before The Franchise who is still clutching his arm, Ejiro snatches Mak around the head and pulls Francis up to his feet. But Mak has other plans and his pushes out with both hands with enough force to swipe Ejiro’s hands off his head and get a clean shot… KRACK! For an ENZIGURI! Spinning to the canvas with so much torque that the blow knocks Fasaki all the way out of the ring on the roll! Getting to his feet, Mak pumps his good fist in the air as Melissa tends to her brother on the floor. Saddling up to the ring ropes, Mak calls out for the manager of his opponent to get out of the way as he certainly has no interest in letting Fasaki catch his breath at his leisure on the outside. Ducking out of the way, Melissa shouts for her brother to move as he continues to rub the back of his head and seemingly has no clue as to what is going to happen. Which is incredibly accurate, as he provides no defense as Mak painfully pulls his body over the top rope with a slingshot plancha that squashes Ejiro against the concrete floor! “FRAN-CHISE! FRAN-CHISE! FRAN-CHISE! FRAN-CHISE!” Getting up with a hand still clutching at his shoulder, The Franchise looks over at Melissa and pointed a left handed finger at the manager to make sure she stays away as he goes back to work on the former World Champion. Using his left shoulder to lift the stunned Fasaki off the canvas, Mak drops his opponent’s chest on the guardrail with a modified stun gun, which sends Fasaki back down on the concrete in a heap. Pulling Ejiro off the concrete again with the left arm, Mak tosses his opponent back inside the ring well before the risk of count out becomes too great. Immediately getting on Ejiro before Rule can fully recover, Mak buries his left shoulder into his opponent’s chest and arches backward with a Northern Lights suplex! Holding onto the bridge and using his neck strength, Mak tries to keep his opponent down for… ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEENOOOOOOO! Instinctively punching up into Mak’s ribs, Ejiro forces his opponent to break the bridge and get out from underneath the pinning combination. Finally getting to his feet before Ejiro does, Mak grabs a full handful of hair and uses it to toss Ejiro not into the top turnbuckle, but above it! CLANG! So that Ejiro’s head bounces off the ring post itself! Falling strait back to the center of the ring, a tiny stream of blood starts to flow down the Asian features of The Rule. His legs kicking out with a spasm, Ejiro appears to be just a hair above the state of unconscious as Mak points strait up into the air as the crowd continues to roar in appreciation of the viscous Franchise. “And The Franchise has gone insane!” replies The King of Hearts, “You have to wonder just how long Ejiro will take this beating before he slips into his true heart of heart and just starts stabbing Mak in the face. Speaking of stabbing people in the face… if those gutless monkeys who took Pete would maybe… MAYBE… send me a video of stabbing Pete in the face I might start taking their threats at face value. Instead you suckers just keep lowering the price? Cluck! Cluck! Cluck!” Knowing that he probably not be able to keep Fasaki down with the last blow as Ejiro rolls to his chest and that he might not be able to pick him up for any throws, Mak backs into a corner and watches for the opening he wants. Seeing what he was looking for, Franchise rushes ahead and sends a Yakuza kick right at his stunned opponents face only to have Ejiro duck underneath the blow at the last moment. But Ejiro is not quick enough to counter as he turns around only to be taken by the head and driven into the canvas with the dirty DDT! Rolling right over his own head, Ejiro lands on his back on the canvas as Mak Francis gets on top of his foe and hooks a leg with his good arm for… ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWWWWOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! “Fas-a-kee! Fas-a-kee! Fas-a-kee!” starts a small rallying chant in the crowd as Ejiro’s brain continues to swim in a pond of concussion. “FRAN-CHISE! FRAN-CHISE! FRAN-CHISE! FRAN-CHISE!” but it is drowned out in a moment as the far more popular Mak Francis raises his arms to the crowd in order to get his faithful back into the contest. “Mak Franchise needs to put this thing away while he has Ejiro all screwed up,” reports The King. “The only question is how? That arm may not allow Mak to hit any of his premier maneuvers!” But The Franchise sure does aim to try as he looks out to the crowd and calls out that he is going to put this match out of his opponents reach. Grabbing Fasaki and pulling him up to his knees, Mak pounds on the small cut opened on Ejiro’s eyebrow with a number of left hands. Reaching around Ejiro’s head with a front facelock from the left side, Mak reaches around with his left hand and grabs a hold of Fasaki’s leg. Groaning with the obvious effort, Mak links his hands together and now has Ejiro just where he wants him… right in position for the Franchise tag! Forcing Ejiro into the air, Mak holds his opponent up at the shoulder height for a moment until a sudden burst of energy from the Rule breaks the cradle! “Mak didn’t have the strength in his right arm to keep the fisherman’s cradle locked!” Barely having his feet on the ground for a second, Ejiro finds himself driven into the canvas once again with the second DDT of the evening! Getting to his feet, Mak slaps the hell out of his own shoulder to get some of the feeling back in the limb. Knowing that he probably wouldn’t be able to hoist Ejiro for any other throws, Mak goes to plan B as he now goes to the outside of the ring and uses his right arm to pull his body up to the very top turnbuckle! Rubbing the shoulder even as he takes aim on his opponent, Mak takes flight… “BROTHERLYYYYY LOVVVVVVVVVE!” THUMMMMMMMMMMP! BUT HE HITS ONLY CANVAS! “That worked just as well as it did at Battleground!” calls out The Suicide King as Mak’s jackknife causes both his arms to crash against the ring canvas! Barely conscious as it is, Ejiro almost instinctively drives his own body down on The Franchise and locks on down with the… “COOOOOOOOOBRA CROSSFACE! But he’s got it on the wrong arm!” Screaming out with the effort he puts into his own hold, Ejiro shouts loudly over the din of the Brazilian crowd as they call for Mak to somehow get out of the hold. But Mak seemingly has no recourse at the moment as he instead reaches out for the ropes with the arm that is suddenly not in as bad shape as the other. “DON’T TAP MAK! DON’T TAP MAK! DON’T TAP MAK!” But what choice might Mak have? Grunting with the effort of staying in the contest, The Franchise reaches out as far as he can for the ropes and the break that would result. But Ejiro has himself so well braced that it appears that Mak really can’t get anywhere on the canvas at the present time. And so he does what he can by reaching up with his wounded arm and using it in an attempt to push the hold off his face. “Mak Francis has to keep his eyes on the prize, he needs to focus! If he taps out now, for the second time in two matches… he may lose any chance he has of getting another shot at the World Champion. He will have to combat all those notions that he’s a choker again and again… he CAN NOT QUIT!” And so he does not, even as Ejiro continues to pry away on his shoulder. The Franchise instead continues to use the muscles in his neck to grind his head forward while also pushing up on Ejiro’s hands in order to get out of the hold. On the other hand, Ejiro knows that he cannot let up for even a moment in order to refit his hands without Francis being able to get out of the hold. Inside his own head, he damns his own instincts, which almost always have him applying the crossface to the left arm. “DON’T TAP MAK! DON’T TAP MAK! DON’T TAP MAK! YAAAAAAAY!” Finally shoving with everything he has left in his tank, Mak pushes Ejiro’s hands off his face and manages to get himself out of the deadly crossface! “He broke the hold! Mak Francis MUSCLED out of the cobra crossface!” But Francis does not have a moment to enjoy his victory as Ejiro quickly hops over his downed opponent and scissors the other arm in preparation for another crossface and this one on the injured right arm of his opponent. Knowing that might seal his doom, Mak immediately scrambles with his legs and manages to sink his left arm into the ropes in order to keep Ejiro from locking on the hold! But Ejiro is nothing if not determined as he hooks Mak by the ankle and drags him right out to the middle of the ring again. Hammering Mak in the back of the head with forearm after forearm, Ejiro gets his opening ONCE AGAIN! “COOOOOOOOOOOBRA CROSSFACE AGAIN! CAN MAK SURVIVE AGAIN?” This time locked down on the right arm, Ejiro cranks even more violently on the arm as Mak SCREAMS out in pain from the hold but still refuses to give into the hold! REFUSES TO TAP OUT AGAIN! BUT THE PAIN! “DON’T TAP MAK! DON’T TAP MAK! DON’T TAP MAK!” THE PAAAAAAAAAAIN! “DON’T TAP MAK! DON’T TAP MAK! DON’T TAP MAK!” … TAP! TAP! TAP! “Its over,” sighs the Suicide King as Ejiro Fasaki releases the hold immediately and rolls to the outside. “Mak Francis gave this match everything his broken body had, but Ejiro Fasaki just was too much. You just can’t go in against that caliber of opponent at even 95 % and hope to come out the victor, I’m sorry.” “The winner of this contest,” reports Funyon, “EEEEEEJIROOOOOO FASAKEEEEEEEE!” Wiping the trickle of blood from his brow, Fasaki glares back into the ring, as Mak just barely is able to get to his knees with the referee’s help. Fasaki knows that he wasn’t the crowd favorite tonight… but he doesn’t care. He won… Mak lost and that should be the only thing that matters. And yet… Is it? “Well that’s another one in the books and… Oh… hey Pete.” Turning to one side, The Suicide King gets a full eye of Longdogger Pete as the 6’8” grappler stands above his broadcast colleague. “Man… YOU SPRUNG ME! The kidnappers said you wouldn’t give them a thing so they just let me go. You my man… are the freaking negotiator!” Looking Pete up and down, The King sighs, “Not even a little torture. Kidnappers SUCK!” Pete smiles, “We’ll be right back with our MAIN EVENT!” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Ace309 0 Report post Posted May 5, 2005 Welcome back to SWF LOCKDOOOOOOOWN~,” greets the voice of Longdogger Pete as the cameras make a sweeping pass of the sold-out crowd—all of them on their feet and cheering their hearts out. The cameras pause to catch some of the fans more colorful signs: “Landon Maddix Suga Bolas!” while another simply states, “FODA!” before returning to the announcers table. “We’ve had a tremendous night of action down here in the Pacaembu Stadium in Sao Paulo, Brazil so far,” continues Pete, “but we have one more match for you “Johnny Dangerous is getting his rematch for the International Championship, the belt he lost to Landon Maddix at Battleground,” notes Pete. “However, Landon wasn’t able to retain the title against Jay Hawke on Storm, so now the Barracuda will be taking up his rematch with the Dean of Professional Wrestling.” “If you’ll also remember on Storm,” adds King. “Jay Hawke vowed to not only win the International Championship, but to successfully defend it against Johnny Dangerous as well on his way to defeating Toxxic for the World Heavyweight Championship.” “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” booms Funyon, “THE FOLLOWING MATCH SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL IS YOUR MAIN EVENT-” “RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!” “-AND WILL BE FOR THE SMARTMARKS WRESTLING FEDERATION INTERNATIONAAAAAAAL CHAMPIONSHIP!” “RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!” “ENTERING FIRST, THE CHALLENGER…” Funyon’s words drift into the open air of the Pacaembu Stadium as a hush falls over the crowd. Nothing but the gentle winds breeze blowing through can be heard. Then, finally, a voice comes over the speakers, whispering a name in a deep, sultry voice- “JOHNNY DANGEROUS~!” -and Sao Paulo goes wild! “After the Flesh” quickly kicks up, pounding out from the speakers as the stage becomes covered in fog. Lights strobe from behind the fog, illuminating the stage and then Johnny Dangerous in quick, little bursts—the latter also prompting a surge of cheers! The Barracuda heads out from backstage and goes straight to the ring, the look of total determination is clearly written on his face. Johnny slides in and immediately heads for a corner to await for the arrival of his opponent… and HIS Championship belt. Suddenly, the familiar strains of Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly” kick up from the speakers while the lights slowly dim, heralding the entrance of Jay Hawke. The crowd, as expected, unloads with some boos! “AND HIS OPPONENT,” says Funyon, “FROM THE HALL OF FAME CITY OF CLEVELAND, OHIO – WEIGHING IN AT TWO HUNDRED FIFTEEN POUNDS, HE IS THE SMARTMARK WRESTLING FEDERATION INTERNATIONAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL CHAMPIOOOOOOOOOON… ‘THE DEAN OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING’ JAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWWKE!” A spotlight shines on Jay Hawke as he emerges from the curtain. He stops at the top of the ramp and just looks out across the sea of fans before parting his black and purple robe to reveal the United States Championship secured to his waist. All around him he can here the fans striking up their familiar chant: “HAWK SUGA!” “HAWK SUGA!” “HAWK SUGA!” “HAWK SUGA!” “Hawke is obviously very proud of his newest accomplishment,” notes King. “He came to this federation with one goal – championships – and has done everything he can to make sure that he fulfills his goals. I’d say he’s doing a pretty fine job if you ask me.” “But we didn’t,” replies Pete, with a wide-toothed grin. His remark gets the Suicide King’s watchful eye, but before he can snap back at Pete the attention is drawn to the ring. Hawke unfastens the title belt from his waist and hands it over to referee Ronal ‘Red’ Herrington, the official for this match. The belt is shown to Johnny and then to all in attendance before changing hands to the timekeeper. Finally, after Jay has stripped his robe off, the referee calls for the bell! DING DING DING!!! “Bells gone,” says Pete as the two competitors immediately begin to circle and the crowd crackles and buzzes with anticipation, eager to see these two men come to blows once more. After one full circle, the two quickly rush in towards one another and clash with a murderous collar-and-elbow tie up, fighting for purchase like two gladiators! “It looks like we’re in for a classic wrestling competition tonight!” Pete excitedly shouts. For a second it’s nearly dead even. Neither man seems to be able to gain the leverage, until the Barracuda quickly shifts his stance, catching Hawke off guard, and uses the Dean’s own force against him to bring him down to the mat with a lateral toss then holds him in place for: ONE! …And nothing more as Jay quickly rolls off his shoulders and up to his feet. He back-pedals a few steps away from his Challenger while angrily gritting his teeth - none to happy about getting one upped in a basic mat wrestling maneuver by this lousy excuse for a wrestler. Johnny just looks at him, grinning, and then taps his finger against the side of his head… RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!! “Oh!” huffs King, “what a total lack of respect for our International Champion! Johnny using Hawke’s own mannerisms against him won’t get him very far in this country or the match!” However, despite the Suicide King’s appalled remarks, the fans appear to love the notion – coming to life with a chant for the Barracuda: “VAI IR, JOHNNY, VAMOS!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP! “VAI IR, JOHNNY, VAMOS!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP! “VAI IR, JOHNNY, VAMOS!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP! “Will you listen to that, King,” marvels Pete as Johnny nods his head in approval to the chants. “I don’t think these fans mind seeing Johnny using Hawke’s own taunts against him. In fact, I’d say their quite clearly on the side of the Barracuda tonight in his quest to regain the Championship that he created.” “Well,” King snorts in reply. “Johnny has impressed me recently with his more aggressive nature, but until he learns to forget about what this audience thinks and worry about nothing but the task at hand he’s in for a very hard road ahead – mugging for the fans won’t win you Championships!” As an act of good faith, or possibly just to rub more salt into the mental wounds, Johnny extends his hand to Hawke, complete with a wide-toothed grin. However, Jay isn’t about to play into any of the Barracuda’s games tonight! He made a solemn promise to successfully defend his International Championship against Johnny and he had every intention of doing just that, even if it meant he would have to get a little vile in the process. Hawke steps forward, only instead of accepting Johnny’s offer for a handshake, he spits right in Dangerous’ face then… SMACK! …swings his fist out and buries his knuckles deep into the side of Johnny’s skull, rocking the Challenger on his heels! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! “HAWKE CHUPA!” “HAWKE CHUPA!” “HAWKE CHUPA!” “Oh my, God!” cries Pete, “the so-called ‘Dean of Professional Wrestling’ just spit right in the Barracuda’s face! That was totally uncalled for and these fans are letting him know that with their Hawke sucks chant!” “I call it retribution for stealing Jay Hawke’s taunts,” King smugly replies. “Besides, how do you know what the hell these Brazilian fools are chanting – it’s all in…Brazilian!” “It’s called Portuguese, King; one of the seventy five languages I have happened to study in my numerous travels of the world.” King just stares blankly at his announcing cohort, blinking before saying: “You’re such a fucking nerd, Pete.” Hawke quickly follows the first punch with a second, alternating his swinging arm, and nails Johnny once again to send him stumbling back as the fans unleash a horrendous jeer upon the ring! Jay grabs the Barracuda by his arm and easily whips his stunned foe across the ring and into the ropes then floors him with a strong lariat on the return! Hawke dives in with a lateral press for: ONE! T – NO! Johnny kicks out, and rolls up to his feet. He stumbles back the second he gets to a vertical base, obviously still shaken from having Hawke’s fist pounded into the side of his skull, but still gets on the defensive – striking a quick martial arts stance while beckoning the Dean nearer. “Johnny’s ready for him now,” says Pete. “He isn’t about to get caught by anymore of Hawke’s cheap tactics!” “Jay Hawke isn’t about go storming in like a fool, though,” replies King as Jay stands rather idly, far from the Barracuda’s reach. “He isn’t proficient in the Martial Arts like Dangerous and knows when to keep his distance. In fact, I’d say the fool is actually Johnny if he thinks he’s going to catch the ‘Dean of Professional Wrestling’ with *those* types of shenanigans!” Hawke just stares blankly then finally warms his face with a tender smile and taps his finger against the side of his head, getting quite a different reaction than the Barracuda did before hand. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “I don’t see why everyone’s getting so bent out of shape,” remarks King. “Hawke just letting Johnny know that there are no hard feelings and he simply made a smart move.” Knowing this as well, Johnny finally lowers his stance and steps towards the center of the ring, wiping the residue of spit off his face as he begins to circle the Champion once more, “-and IN FACT,” says King. “It appears that more of Hawke’s brilliant tactics are coming into play now. The Dean is essentially beckoning the Barracuda, luring him into a contest where he cannot compete – the art of wrestling, and the Barracuda doesn’t even realize it.” “You might be right on that,” agrees Longdogger. “Jay Hawke is quite certainly the able mat wrestler and Johnny would be wise to move this match in more of his style. He needs to dicatate the flow of the match not have Hawke dictate it to him!” “VAI IR, JOHNNY, VAMOS!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP! “VAI IR, JOHNNY, VAMOS!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP! “VAI IR, JOHNNY, VAMOS!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP! The chants of the crowd mixed with their cheers fire up once more, swirling all around the two men as they grunt and growl, before finally rushing back in for the second tie up of the evening! “Here they go again!” Already angered by the earlier ‘tactics’ of Jay Hawke, Johnny comes at full force for the lockup, snarling as he collides with the Champion and quickly muscles him back into a corner. Herrington calls for the break, but Dangerous keeps pushing as Jay frantically tries to keep his Challenger off of him. ONE! TWO! THREE! …and Johnny finally breaks away from the Dean as the referee issues a count, though some what begrudgingly. Slowly and cautiously, Johnny backs out of the corner… “Johnny better not let his emotions get the better of him here as Herrington doesn’t look like he’s going to give any leeway tonight,” Pete suggests. “And a disqualification is certainly not what the Barracuda wants – if Hawke retains he’s going to have to beat the ever loving snot out of the Barracuda to do it.” “Believe me when I say it, Clogger; Hawke is more than ready to do whatever It takes to retain his Championship!” …And Hawke explodes out of the corner and reaches for the third tie up of the match, which is accepted, almost instinctively, but this time it’s Hawke with the momentum coming in! Johnny plows his feet into the canvas to keep himself from being pushed back across the ring, and that’s when Jay suddenly breaks the lockup with a go-behind while grabbing the Barracuda’s arm and pulling it into a hammerlock! A painful groan elicits from Dangerous’ mouth before he spins out of the hammerlock, ripping his arm away from Hawke’s grasp while swinging his elbow out… WHOOSH~! …But the Dean ducks under the elbow then grabs around Johnny’s waist from behind causing the Barracuda’s eyes to widen to roughly the size of saucers! Johnny tries to reach out and grab onto the nearby ropes to keep himself tied to the mat, but alas it’s too late and the Dean hauls Johnny through the air and to the mat, neck-and-shoulders-first, with a German Suplex! WHAM! “Oh!” exclaims King, “big hit by the ‘Dean of Professional Wrestling’ there – he caught the Barracuda totally off guard there!” Johnny grimaces slightly from the suplex and his face only gets more contorted when Hawke quickly applies his trademarked Fujiwara armbar to a ruckus of boos! “There’s that deadly armbar,” notes Pete. “Already Hawke is focusing his attacks on Johnny’s left shoulder area – slowly ticking away at the Barracuda’s armor to lock that Wing Span in later.” “You’ll also notice that Hawke has apparently decided to forgo any unnecessary early pin fall attempts,” remarks King, “opting instead to just wear Johnny down.” Johnny howls in pain while desperately trying to crawl his way to the ropes, but with the referee in his face asking if he yields, it makes the travel a little bit harder. Dangerous stubbornly refuses to give in as usual, and pulls himself to the ropes and grabs on! RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! The break is called by the referee, but like Johnny before him, and perhaps for a little bit of revenge, Hawke keeps the armbar firmly applied to force Herrington into another count… ONE! TWO! THREE! “Hawke makes the break, but only after a three count warning from our staunch referee,” notes Pete. “You have to wonder why these two are seemingly trying to push the limits here.” “No you don’t,” King smugly counters. “It’s quite obvious that these two are simply push the limits – see how far they can go, so to speak.” “Well if they keep pushing the envelope their libel to get under the referee’s skin and have this match declared a no contest!” Johnny gets back up by way of the ropes. Finally back to a vertical base he takes only a second to try and work out his shoulder… and in that second the Barracuda suddenly finds himself on the receiving end of a roll up! ONE! TWO!! NO!!! Johnny thrusts his shoulder off the mat and rolls out of the pinning predicament – quickly jumping back to his feet and this time choosing to just let the soreness work itself out. “VAI IR, JOHNNY, VAMOS!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP! “VAI IR, JOHNNY, VAMOS!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP! Johnny lunges for the International Champion, feigning another lockup, and then quickly pivots on his foot and swings his other leg out to nail Hawke with a roundhouse kick straight in the gut! “Finally, Johnny scores a hit with some bait!” exclaims Pete as Jay doubles over into a reverse side headlock before going headfirst into the mat with a DDT! WHAM! RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! “And we have a cover!” ONE! TWO!! NO!!! Hawke easily kicks out and then rolls up to his feet. The quick hit by Dangerous serving to do little more than slightly daze him while giving the Barracuda a free second to shake the kink out of his shoulder and finally extract some real damage. As Hawke gets to his vertical base, Johnny grabs the Champion by his arm and whips him across the ring… NO! Jay digs his feet into the canvas to put a stop to THAT plan in motion and reverses, sending Dangerous across the ring and into the ropes instead! “Johnny tried to get the momentum moving back into his corner with some quick thinking to stun the Dean,” says Pete, “but he didn’t stay on him! That shoulder must really be bugging Johnny if it’s causing him to loose his focus that much!” “What do you mean by Johnny trying to get the momentum moving BACK into his corner?” King questions Longdogger. “He hasn’t been able to get a single thing going for himself all night! This match has been nothing but a total showcase of Jay Hawke’s talents!” Hot off the ropes, Johnny rebounds towards the International Champion before being taken for a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker that ends with Dangerous’ spine crunching against Jay’s knee! Johnny glances off of Hawke’s knee and hits the mat as the International Champion floats over for a cover… ONE! TWO!! KICK OUT! “Well,” Pete finally concedes, “the Barracuda may not have gotten anything moving in his direction just yet, King, but you have to admit he can take a heck of a lot of punishment!” “Well shit,” scoffs King. “He should be well used to taking punishment by now!” “VAI IR, JOHNNY, VAMOS!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP! “VAI IR, JOHNNY, VAMOS!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP! Jay pulls Johnny up to his feet with a quick armbar, focusing more pressure on that tender shoulder before twisting on it further to get a whelp from the Barracuda’s mouth. Johnny isn’t about to just let the Champion take his body parts as he pleases, however, and despite the nagging pain he fights back against Hawke and twists his arm out and quickly slams his knuckles into Jay’s face, right in the eye! WHAM! The referee admonishes the closed fists of the Barracuda, but right now that’s the last thing Johnny cares to hear and he shoves Herrington back out of his way. Hawke staggers back, both hands covering his eye as Johnny steps forward and slams his open fist into the US Champion, right between the eyes, with a vicious, yet desperate Shotei Palmstrike! THHHHH-WAAAACK! RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! The crowd explodes as Johnny thunders the strike into Hawke’s skull and sends the Dean stumbling back, “-and Agent Dangerous is determined to try and take control of this match!” exclaims Pete. “He’s not going down to Jay Hawke just yet, so long as he has something left in the tank!” Dangerous steps forward, utterly seething and determined that win or loose, he won’t be the only one going home with a headache tonight! He storms after the International Champion and launches his fist into Hawke with a second Shotei, and then a third before finally spinning completely around… WHOOSH-CRACK!! …and just cranking his foot into Hawke’s temple with a spinning heel kick, nearly fracturing his skull! The ‘Dean of Professional Wrestling’ goes flying backwards and he falls into the ropes, completely stunned out of his mind! Johnny quickly reacts, knowing good and well that it won’t take long for his opponent to gather himself. He pulls Jay off the ropes and ducks down to drape his opponent across his shoulders then carefully, with a tremendous growl, stands to his feet! “What a tremendous display of strength by the Barracuda,” marvels Pete as the fans valiantly cheer the Secret Agent on. Johnny doesn’t take any time to acknowledge them though, knowing that he can’t hold his opponent up for long--as it already brings great pains to his shoulder--He quickly executes a forward flip, bringing his opponent down into the canvas and drilling him back-first! WHAM! RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! “Spinal Explosion!” calls Pete, as the ring quivers on impact. “Agent Dangerous is showing that he can come up with some powerful moves as well as his opponent!” “Maybe so,” adds King, “But do you really think that’s going to be enough to end this match!?” Hoping to answer that very question, Johnny reaches back and hooks onto Hawke’s leg then rolls him onto his shoulders. Herrington drops to count for… ONE! TWO!! THR-NOOOOO!!!!!!!!! “But it’s not enough to keep Jay Hawke down!” exclaims King as the Dean thunders his shoulders off the mat! Nonetheless, Johnny is determined to keep adding the abuse till it is enough, and as Hawke pushes up to his hands and knees Johnny drops his knee straight into the small of Jay’s back, viciously forcing the Champion into the mat face-first! Hawke roars in pain and grabs at his back. Like Johnny’s shoulder, Hawke’s back was starting to become sorer by the minute and adding up much quicker than he had even planned… “It looks like Jay Hawke isn’t the only one out here tonight that is centering their strikes on a central location,” notes Pete as Johnny jumps up to his feet and this time swings his elbow out and drops it into the Champion’s back, over and over, and over again! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! “By Gawd!” cries King, “is the referee going to just stand their and allow that kind of street-thug violence!?” However, seemingly as if on cue to purposely make all of King’s statements backfire, Herrington admonishes the Barracuda for such actions and warns him with the threat of a disqualification—something Johnny could seriously do without. Johnny grabs at the ‘Dean’s’ leg and starts to pull it up over his shoulder… “BARRACUDA~!” calls Pete, bubbling over with excitement, as do the fans—suddenly coming to life with a huge cheer as they come to their feet! Hawke fights the attempt though, and quickly crawls towards the ropes and gets to them before Johnny can secure his submission. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! “Hawke was too quick for him there,” adds King. Hawke dazedly gets back up to his feet and staggers a step to the side, and then goes clear across the ring on an Irish whip! Hitting the ropes, Hawke springs back towards his awaiting Challenger before getting lifted up and going through the air, high over-head, and crashing back down into the mat with a tremendous back body drop! WHAM! Johnny moves in quickly – grabbing Hawke by his leg as he straddles over the Dean, pulling it back over his shoulder, “-and he’s got the Barracuda locked in – just like I told you, King!” exclaims Pete, marked by the Brazilian fans coming to their feet with a thunderous cheer. “It could all be over for Jay Hawke’s International Championship reign right here!” TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! An almost startling, blood-curdled, agonizing cry of pain roars out of the Dean’s mouth, momentarily silencing the chants of “Tap” from the crowd and yet despite the pain, the only thing Hawke can think about is reaching the ropes to end this terrible torture being inflicted upon him! “It doesn’t look like the fat lady’s sung just yet!” shouts King as the stubborn ‘Dean’ begins reaching out with his hands, sinks his nails deep into the canvas and starts to drag himself a hair closer to the ropes. “Despite all the abuse Johnny Dangerous has inflicted on Jay Hawke’s back, he is refusing to throw in the towel! Jay is spitting in the face of agony and laughing!” Coming within reach of the ropes, Hawke can almost taste the upcoming relief! He reaches his arm out as far as he can possibly extend it… “HE’S ALMOST THERE, PETE!” …And Jay grabs onto the bottom rope, getting a tremendous amount of boos for his efforts. However, Hawke may have the rope in his palm, but Johnny doesn’t break, forcing the referee to issue another count: ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Finally, Johnny lets go of Hawke, but the damage is already done. The ‘Dean of Professional Wrestling’ stays on the mat—one arm wrapped around the bottom rope while the other clenches his throbbing back. It wouldn’t take much more to put the Champion away and the Barracuda knows it. One more half crab submission would certainly do it, and seeking to do just that, Johnny stalks towards his injured prey. However, the second Jay sees his Challenger approaching out of the corner of his eye he quickly drops to the mat and rolls out of the ring, throwing his hand out as if to say ‘He’s done for tonight’. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! “What’s this?” questions Pete, “Surely Jay Hawke isn’t giving up on us!” Hawke heads towards the Timekeepers table and snatches his title belt back then turns to head out of ringside, despite Herrington ordering him to return to the ring. As expected, the referee beings to utilize the ten-count: OOOONE! TWOOOO! THREEEEE! “Yet still,” says Pete, “Hawke refuses to return to the ring! Is he trying to say that Johnny is simply too much for him and now wanting to get a count out loss?” “I never heard him say Johnny was too much,” replies Pete. “It’s quite obvious that Hawke is no longer in the proper condition to defend his Championship belt at one hundred percent. Besides, he’s FOOOOOUUR! FIIIIIIIIVEEEEE! Finally, Johnny storms out of the ring. He isn’t about to let Hawke keep his International Championship and the second the Barracuda’s feet hit the floor the Brazilian fans go wild! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!! SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIX! Johnny chases after the retreating Dean, who is still clutching his back rather firmly. He grabs Hawke by his shoulder and spins him around… SEEEEEEEEEEEVEEEEEEEEEEEN!!!! CRACK! …and Jay Hawke pivots on his heel and spins around, swinging the International Championship belt around by it’s strap and SLAMS the gold plate of the belt into Dangerous’ forehead, flooring him instantly! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! DING DING DING!!! “HAWK SUGA!” “HAWK SUGA!” “HAWK SUGA!” “HAWK SUGA!” “Oh my, God!” cries Pete, “I can’t believe this! Jay Hawke just got himself disqualified!” “What kind of shoddy officiating is this!?” cries King. Almost like second instinct, Hawke tries to reason with the referee that it really isn’t what it looks like. That he, in fact, recovered his belt from Johnny Dangerous before it could be used for a weapon! That the blood on the title belt is most certainly not the same blood dribbling from the downed Barracuda’s forehead! “Herrington had better damn well submit that blood for a DNA test before jumping to any rash conclusions here – I don’t think its Johnny’s to begin with!” “Well whose blood could it possibly be then, Genius?” Pete angrily questions his announcing partner, “Jay Hawke hit the Barracuda with the title belt and busted him wide open!” “I wouldn’t know,” says King, shrugging. “Damn cheap monitor went out.” Finally, the referee proves that he isn’t about to fall for any of Hawke’s lame-brain excuse and tells Funyon his final decision. “THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH,” bellows Funyon, “BY DISQUALIFICATION… JOHNNY DANGEROUS! HOWEVER, STIIIIIIIL THE SMARTMARKS WRESTLING FEDERATION INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIOOOOOOOOON… ‘THE DEAN OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING’ JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAAAAWKEEE!!!” BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “HAWK SUGA!” “HAWK SUGA!” “HAWK SUGA!” “HAWK SUGA!” “Oh, man,” says Pete, “this crowd is certainly not happy about that decision. Johnny rightfully gets the victory, but since the title can only change hands on a pinfall or submission, Jay Hawke has retained the International Championship.” “And rightfully so,” adds King. “Hawke said he would successfully defend his Championship against the Barracuda and he’s done just that!” Hawke stands at the top of the ramp now, clutching his title belt close to his chest, and looking out to the crowd with a sick, devilish smile… “HAWK SUGA!” “HAWK SUGA!” “HAWK SUGA!” “HAWK SUGA!” As We: FADE OUT. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Ace309 0 Report post Posted May 5, 2005 RESULTS - Lil’ Buck makes the Insane Luchador tap! - Arch and Manson get the upset! - Spike Jenkins squeaks one out over Scott Pretzler – but you have to read this one. - Ejiro takes the duke over Mak! - Annnnnnnnnnnd Johnny Dangerous…. Wins? Loses? Pfft, like I’m going to tell you. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
