Angel_Grace_Blue 0 Report post Posted May 14, 2005 I'd really like some comments on this, especially from Mike, and especially as to how Jay's was better. Maybe my downfall was taking it too serious or something. So, here's the match that just wasn't good enough (I'm really trying to check the bitterness/angerfulosity, but I honestly didn't think Hawke's match was 'all that', then again, you won't find many writers to say, "Yeah, I can clearly see that your match was better than mine. Great job.") --------------- SWF Storm, live from Sydney, Australia, returns from a commercial for Jobber Chow, and camera man John Kruger pans around the world famous (And apparently only landmark in all of Australia) Sydney Opera House, showcasing such signs as, “Cane Toads > Toxxic!” and “Axis Fears Shed!” before he focuses on the Suicide King and Longdogger Pete. “Welcome back, fans, to Storm! We’ve had some great action thus far, with Manson and Arch Griffon taking on the team of Danny Dagda and Martin Hunt, along with Spike Jenkins and Mak Francis going at it again in a surprisingly standard match, but right now, is a real treat for all the fans!” Pete exclaims. “Yeah, but not for Jay Hawke, I bet. It’s beneath him to wrestle in this kind of match, and it’s not right!” shouts King. “Nevertheless, Jay Hawke and Lil’ Buck, who is still undefeated, will be going at it in a moment in a very unique match, which is saying something since Storm has seen its share of unique matches,” Pete says. “But since he’s in the ring, I’ll let Funyon explain further.” “Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall, and will take place under Russell Crowe’s Favorite Match rules! Both competitors will alternate taking shots of cinnamon schnapps every minute until a winner is determined, and disqualifications and count outs are not in effect!” Funyon shouts as the fans cheer for alcohol and blood, the two favorite liquids of Australia. Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly” kicks on, though, and that promptly ceases the cheering as the lights dim. “Introducing first, from Cleveland, Ohio, he weighs two hundred, fifteen pounds and is the current SWF International Champion, the Dean of Professional Wrestling, JAAAAY HAAAAWKE!” Funyon bellows over the mounting boos. A spotlight, presumably the same one used to highlight Placido Domingo, shines down on Jay Hawke as walks down the ring, title belt wrapped snugly around his waist. Jay saunters down the ring, climbs the steps and casually enters the squared circle. Hawke takes off his robe and title belt, and places them carefully in a corner. The Dean takes a glance at the bottles of schnapps and shakes his head in dismay as “Learning to Fly” fades away. “Jay Hawke doesn’t seem to pleased with this match. It can’t be because he lives a straight edge lifestyle, as all of the wrestlers in the federation that do abstain from such things certainly make it a point for that aspect of their lives to be known by all, so what could it be?” Pete asks. “Do you really have to ask, MacDougal? For one, drinking should be saved for a post-match celebration, not during the match like some sloppy hillbilly, not to mention that Hawke must be showing incredible self restraint to not stage a protest in being booked in a hard core match,” King explains. “Don’t go speaking badly of Martin Hunt, we got him very cheaply,” Pete mutters in an undertone. Crime Mob’s “Knuck if You Buck” thumps over the speakers, prompting a fairly large cheer from the crowd, if only for the reason that there’s a good chance Lil’ Buck will kick Jay Hawke’s ass. The Gangsta of Love makes his way out, throwing his hands in the air, and since nothing spills out of his pimp cup and onto his Connie Hawkins jersey, it’s safe to say that the goblet is empty, for now, at least. “And his opponent, from Lanett, Alabama, he weighs in at two hundred, seventy pounds. Sugarhill’s Finest, LIIL’ BUCK!” Funyon shouts. Buck slaps a few hands, makes his way down the ramp, and pulls of his jersey, passing it to Funyon. Buck climbs into the ring and referee Ron Mexico steps between the two men in order to oversee the coin toss. “A coin toss will determine the order in which Lil’ Buck and Jay Hawke will consume their shots. Jay Hawke has been chosen to call it in the air,” Funyon explains. “Heads,” Jay says as Mexico flips the coin. It lands on the mat, Funyon leans down to inspect it, and pops up soon after. “It is heads, and that means that Lil’ Buck will take a shot after one minute, and Jay Hawke after two, continuing in this fashion until the match is over,” Funyon explains before heading out of the ring. “There you have it. Buck is first in line to take a shot of schnapps,” Pete states. “Yeah, that’s exactly what Funyon said. Great job of investigative journalism,” King replies. Ron Mexico, having nothing to check for, simply shrugs and calls for the bell. DING! DING! DING! As the last ring dies away, a large counter pops onto the Smarktron, ticking off a minute. Buck makes his way forward, looking to lock up, but Jay dodges out of the way and cracks Buck in the knee with a kick. Sugarhill’s Finest turns around, but eats a roundhouse. Lil’ Buck takes a step backwards, and the Dean sends him even farther back with a dropkick. Jay pops to his feet and pulls him to the canvas with a double leg takedown as the Arrogant Alabaman bounces off the ropes. The Dean slides forward, looking to get a mount, and manages to land a forearm to Buck’s jaw. Jay Hawke rears back for another blow, but Buck sneaks in a jab. Buck goes for another punch, but his position doesn’t lend itself to striking, and Hawke snares Buck’s arm and cranks on it. “Jay Hawke has Lil’ Buck in some sort of submission. It’s a bit difficult to see where he’s going with it right now, but no doubt it’ll take away some of Buck’s power,” Pete states. “Ha, wouldn’t it be funny if Jay Hawke won this match before either man had to drink? That’d be a definite cause to celebrate!” King exclaims. The Dean continues to work the armbar while Buck throws punch after punch into Jay’s head, though he’s too close to do any real damage. *Ding* Mexico hurries to Hawke and order him to release Buck, as a minute is up. Nearly frothing at the mouth, Jay screams at Ron about having a submission hold locked in and victory being near, but Mexico ignores him and hands Buck a shot of the schnapps. Lil’ Buck shakes his head and gestures that he wants it in his pimp cup, and Ron obliges. Sugarhill’s Finest downs the shot and Mexico signals for the counter to be reset. “And we’ve had our first drink of the night, though it came at a rather inopportune time for Jay Hawke,” Pete says, chuckling. “You’re damn right it did! Couldn’t they have just poured it down Lil’ Buck’s throat or something?” King rages. Hawke starts yelling at Buck and Mexico, demanding that he be allowed to reapply the armbar, but is ignored. Lil’ Buck stalks towards Jay, but gets nailed with a stiff right. Buck rears back and lashes out with a right of his own, and Hawke stumbles backwards. Sugarhill’s Finest scoops the Dean up and plants him with a belly-to-belly suplex. Buck pulls Jay back to his feet and nails him with a left hook. The Gangsta of Love bounces off the ropes, and jumps, knocking Jay back down to the mat with a clothesline. “Nice leaping clothesline from Lil’ Buck, and it looks like he’s now in control of this match,” Pete states. “Yeah, only because he was saved by the bell,” King replies bitterly. Lil’ Buck slides outside and starts looking under the ring for something. Buck emerges holding a music stand and gets back in the squared circle with it in hand. The Gangsta of Love holds it like a baseball bat, waiting for Jay Hawke to get back up. The Dean climbs to his feet, and Buck swings, the top flying off and heading straight for Ron Mexico, who nimbly ducks it. The rod, however, is on target and sends Hawke to the mat. Buck drops the stand and makes a cover. ONE! T--NO! *Ding* Mexico grabs a shot glass and thrusts it in Jay’s face, ordering him to drink, which Hawke does. Ron signals for the counter to start again, as Buck aims a kick at the Dean’s head, but Jay manages to roll out of the way. “And now both men have had their first drinks, and it should be interesting to see how it goes from here,” Pete states. “It doesn’t seem fair to Jay Hawke, though. He’s much smaller, and most likely won’t be able to hold his liquor as well as Lil’ Buck. Once again, someone is showing favoritism to him, and it’s not right!” King yells. “And Toxxic not defending the world title in how long is just standard practice?” Pete asks. “Quiet you.” Buck grabs the music stand, and Hawke, treasuring his head, rolls out of the ring before the Gangsta of Love can strike. Jay dives underneath the ring skirt and comes back with a cricket bat wrapped with barbed wire. “Is that the Equalizer?” Pete asks. “Sure as hell looks like it. I guess Janus left it here for safe keeping,” King replies. Hawke climbs up the steps and heads to the top rope, not wanting to expose his back to Lil’ Buck by stepping between the ropes. Jay drops down and swings, but Buck easily parries with his music stand and kicks the Dean in the stomach. Buck smacks Jay on the wrist with the music stand, forcing him to drop the Equalizer. Lil’ Buck lets go of the music stand, grabs Hawke in a front chancery, and drops to the mat. Sugarhill’s Finest rolls Jay off of him, gets to his feet, and grabs the Equalizer. The Dean stands up, only to duck down as the Equalizer goes whizzing past his head. Hawke shoots forward, pulling Buck down with another double leg takedown. Jay once again scoots forward, but instead of hitting the Arrogant Alabaman, Hawke tries to wrestle the cricket bat out of his hand. “Jay Hawke wisely trying to take away Lil’ Buck’s weapon, as he’s strong enough without it,” Pete states. “Come on, Jay, bash him up!” King shouts. Hawke manages to take the bat away, but Buck lands an elbow with his free left arm to Jay’s head. The Dean rolls off, gets up, and slams the Equalizer down onto Buck’s chest. *Ding* Jay backs away as Ron Mexico presents Buck with his second shot, and the Gangsta of Love drinks it quickly. Ron signals for the counter to start up again, and Buck slowly gets to his feet, a few lines of blood on his chest. “What a shot from Jay Hawke with that cricket bat! I bet Lil’ Buck is wishing he would have kept his jersey on tonight,” Pete notes. “Like it would have helped any. Barbed wire isn’t going to stop for a mesh basketball jersey, MacDougal,” King adds. Buck eyes the music stand, but Hawke rushes in, and nails the Gangsta of Love on his arm with the Equalizer. Lil’ Buck stumbles back, and quickly exits the ring. “Ha! Buck’s running away!” King shouts gleefully. “No, I think he’s just going to find something to even things up,” Pete says. Lil’ Buck once more looks under the ring and pulls out a viola case. Buck opens it, perhaps hoping for a machine gun, but alas, it’s the instrument and bow. Sugarhill’s Finest takes both items out, closes the case back up, and hurls it at Hawke. Jay knocks the case away with his bat, but it gives Buck the opportunity to slide into the ring, holding the viola and bow. The Arrogant Alabaman gets to his feet and nails Hawke with the instrument. “El Kabong!” Pete yells. “Do you want us to get sued?” King asks. Hawke staggers back and gets poked in the eye with the viola bow, forcing him to drop the Equalizer as his hands fly to his face. “Fiddle sticks! Buck just used a fiddle stick!” Pete exclaims. “Maybe in your backwoods town, but people of culture, such as myself, refer to that as a bow, you moron.” Buck slams the viola into Jay’s stomach, doubling him over, and Buck lifts him up and delivers a spine shattering back breaker. *Ding* Sugarhill’s Finest pushes the Dean away, allowing Mexico to force another shot upon Hawke. Buck heads out of the ring and makes his way to the front row. He seems to be in deep conversation with a fan, and as the counter resets, the pulls off his sweater and hands it to Buck, who wraps it around his arm. “Oh, come on! That can’t be fair! He’s getting tourniquets from fans!” King roars. “Hey, it’s not Buck’s fault that the fans would rather help him than Jay Hawke,” Pete states. The Dean exits the ring himself, and searches for a moment, and pulls out a cricket ball. Hawke rushes for Funyon, snatches Buck’s Connie Hawkins jersey, and wraps the ball in it. Jay heads towards Buck, swinging the ball, and slams it into Buck’s knee, forcing Sugarhill’s Finest to the ground. Hawke rears back and cracks the Arrogant Alabaman in the shoulder. Jay drops the cricket ball and quickly locks on a Fujiwara armbar. “Oh, it’s over now! No way Lil’ Buck can get out of that Fujiwara armbar,” King says. “Very possible, King. That’s the same arm that was sliced open by the Equalizer, and of course, just recently, hit with that cricket ball,” Pete adds. Ron Mexico slides out of the ring to see if Buck will submit, but the Gangsta of Love waves him away. Sugarhill’s Finest reaches out, grabbing Jay’s head and pulling it back, but Hawke simply cranks back on the hold. Buck reaches out again and sinks his fingers into the Dean’s eyes, forcing Jay to relinquish the hold. “Well, Lil’ Buck didn’t submit to the Fujiwara armbar, so it looks like Jay Hawke will have to find another way to win,” Pete states. “Are you retarded? Just because it didn’t work once doesn’t mean that Hawke won’t go back to it!” King screams. *Ding* Mexico sprints back to grab Buck’s pimp cup, and gives him another shot. Buck slowly gets to his feet, and Hawke rushes him. The Gangsta of Love scoops Jay up, turns him upside down, and sits, driving Hawke into the ground with a piledriver. “Tilt-a-whirl piledriver! Big move to give Lil’ Buck some time, but it looks like his arm didn’t agree with it too much,” Longdogger points out. “See? Jay Hawke is a genius! Sure, he got dumped on his head, but it took a bit out of Lil’ Buck, too, and I don’t think Buck will be able to lift Hawke too much after this,” King adds. Buck rolls Jay over and hooks his leg. ONE! TWO--NO! “Buck almost got two out of that, but Hawke is pretty tough, and it’s going to take a lot more to keep him down,” Pete notes. “Well, of course! He wouldn’t be the International Champion if he went down to a piledriver!” Buck pulls Hawke up and drives a knee into his stomach. Lil’ Buck cinches in a front facelock with his bloody arm, and slams a forearm into the Dean’s back with his other limb. Buck lands another, and a third forearm, before he turns around, hooks Jay’s arm, and drops to one knee. “Nice armbar takedown from Lil’ Buck, and that knee to Jay Hawke’s face can’t have been too pleasant, but it looks like it hurt Buck, too,” Pete says. “And, if you say Jay Hawke was smart to do that, I will smack you. Yeah, he’s a genius all right. Just lets Lil’ Buck knock him around, but it causes some minor pain to Buck.” “You’re bitter in your old age.” Buck pushes Hawke to the floor, stands on his back, and grabs both of Jay’s arms. Buck pulls back and grinds his foot into Hawke’s upper back while Ron Mexico asks if the Dean wants to submit. It would seem Hawke did not say no, as the match continues, but Lil’ Buck releases Jay’s right arm, as it appears the strain of yanking on it is too much. “Look! Buck’s arm is hurting, and he had to let go of Jay Hawke’s arm! It’s working!” King shouts, cackling maniacally. “Damn it, you’re right, King,” Pete admits. “But, Lil’ Buck is still pulling back on Jay’s other arm, so he’s got that going.” *Ding* Buck reluctantly lets go of Hawke’s other arm, allowing Ron to give the Dean his third shot. The Gangsta of Love rubs his arm, looks to the ring, and notices the Equalizer laying just inches from him. Buck grabs the bat and waits for Hawke to get to his feet. Buck charges in and swings like Barry Bonds for the Dean’s skull. CRACK! “My God! What a shot from that cricket bat! Jay Hawke is damn lucky that Lil’ Buck hit the back of his head, otherwise he might not have a face right now!” Pete exclaims. “That was slightly horrific,” King mumbles. Buck quickly drops the bat, though, and his left hand shoots to his right biceps. Meanwhile, Jay Hawke is leaning over the barricade, apparently unconscious, and a fan shoves a plastic plate in his face. “Come on, now! Get Mr. Bukkake out and to deal with this stuff!” King bellows. “It looks like Jay Hawke just got a faceful of Vegemite!” Pete exclaims. “That’s not right! That shit is disgusting!” King yells. The Dean slowly wipes his face and gingerly touches a hand to the back of his head. Hawke stumbles backwards, and slowly makes his way to Lil’ Buck, who stands, waiting for him. Jay lashes out with a chop, but before it connects, Sugarhill’s Finest snaps off a jab. Hawke takes a few steps backwards, and Buck presses on, landing a left hook. The Gangsta of Love reaches out, grabs Hawke by the tights, and shoots him back into the ring. Buck climbs into the ring and drops a knee across the back of Hawke’s neck. “Despite bleeding profusely from his arm, Lil’ Buck seems to be back in control of this match,” Pete notes. “Not for long, though. Not for long,” King replies. Buck rolls Jay Hawke over and makes a cover, Mexico quickly down on the mat to count. ONE! TWO! TH--NO! Hawke gets a shoulder up, and Lil’ Buck pulls the Dean to his feet. Sugarhill’s Finest whips Jay into the ropes, crouches down, and explodes forward, knocking Jay Hawke to the mat with a forearm. “Chin Check from Lil’ Buck! That can’t be good for Jay Hawke’s already battered head,” comments Longdogger. “Especially with the back of his head lacerated from that barbed wire,” King adds. *Ding* Mexico rushes over and hands Buck his pimp cup. The Arrogant Alabaman downs the shot and pulls Jay Hawke to his feet. Buck picks him up and lays the Dean across his left shoulder. “It looks like Lil’ Buck if about to send Jay Hawke on a little ride here!” Pete exclaims. “Mistake...” King mumbles. Lil’ Buck starts spinning around, but it seems King saw this coming, and Hawke lets loose with a stream of vomit, splattering the ring. Buck slips and falls backwards, landing in the puke. “Eurgh...I think I’m going to be sick now...” Pete says, gagging. “Yeah, me too,” King replies, trying not to retch. Hawke stays down, and Mexico drops to count the pin. ONE! TWO! THRE--NO! YYEEAAH! “Lil’ Buck got a shoulder up, and just imagine how embarrassing that would be, to have your first loss on account of vomit,” Pete says. “If that would have happened to me, I’d have killed the other guy. To death,” King replies. “Then again, I can’t imagine it being any worse than anybody with an undefeated streak that lost to you.” Jay Hawke gets to his feet and pulls Lil’ Buck up. Hawke smashes a jab into Buck’s jaw, and slips behind the Gangsta of Love, applying a rear waistlock in the process. Jay strains, but lifts Buck off the mat and dumps him on his back. The Dean scrambles to his feet and slides out of the ring. Jay picks up the Equalizer and the cricket ball wrapped in Buck’s jersey, and climbs back in. “Jay Hawke really must have dug deep to have been able to hit that German suplex, but it seems odd for him to use that move when he’s been working over Lil’ Buck’s arms the whole match,” Pete comments. “Hey, it took care of Buck for a bit, so there’s no harm in it,” King replies. Hawke drops the cricket ball, but carries the bat to Lil’ Buck and smacks him in the chest with it again. Buck’s arms fly to his torso, and the Dean sets the Equalizer down on the mat. Jay lays Buck’s right arm on top of the bat, and jumps, dropping his leg across Buck’s arm, driving it into the barbed wire. “Leg drop from Jay Hawke to Buck’s already worked-over arm, and putting the Equalizer underneath was just icing on that cake!” Pete shouts. “And Jay Hawke continues to show his technical genius,” King says. Jay pulls the bat out from underneath Buck’s arm, and makes a cover. ONE! TWO! *Ding* “God damn it all!” King screams. “It was over!” “Well, no, it wasn’t, because Buck kicked out right after that bell rang,” Longdogger points out. “Yeah, but the referee was going to count three right before...” King offers. “No, he wasn’t.” Ron Mexico hands Hawke his shot, and Lil’ Buck slowly gets to his feet. Buck grabs the jersey-wrapped cricket ball with his left hand and swings it menacingly towards Jay. Hawke quickly scoops up the Equalizer, and advances towards Lil’ Buck. Sugarhill’s Finest lets go of his jersey, and the cricket ball flies right for the Dean, catching him off-guard. CRACK! “That did not look good. That cricket ball nailed Jay Hawke right on the forehead, and he’s lucky to still be standing,” Pete states. “It was nothing! I’ve seen him take worse,” King replies. Thoroughly dazed, Hawke doesn’t see Buck charge towards him and deck him with an elbow. The cricket bat falls out of Jay’s hand and rolls to the edge of the apron. The Gangsta of Love picks Hawke up and nails him with a right hand, but Buck quickly backs off, holding his arm. Buck heads back to the Dean and slams an elbow into his face, driving Jay towards the corner. Buck continues to lash out with his left arm, forcing Jay into the turnbuckles. “Is Lil’ Buck maybe looking for a Dirty South Thang? If so, I don’t think Jay Hawke would manage to survive it,” Pete says. “I doubt it. Lil’ Buck doesn’t have enough strength in his arm to pull that move off.” Buck tries to lift Hawke up, but the Dean fights back, kicking Buck in the knee. Buck stumbles back, still holding on to Jay, and pulls him out of the corner. Sugarhill’s Finest boots Jay in the gut, doubling him over, and Buck turns around. The Gangsta of Love hooks Hawke’s arms, and starts to turn over. “Jay Hawke might be going on a Buck-Wild Ride in a moment!” Pete exclaims. “Oh no he isn’t!” King yells. *Ding* BOOOOO! Ron Mexico rushes to Lil’ Buck and tells him that he must take his shot. Buck lets Hawke slide off his back and to the canvas, and downs his shot. “Jay Hawke just got saved there! I don’t think he would have been able to kick out of the Buck-Wild Ride,” Pete says. “Not that Buck could have held him up long enough for him to hit it.” Hawke gets to his feet, very groggily, and Buck not much better off after five shots of one hundred proof alcohol in twice as many minutes. Lil’ Buck takes a wild swing, Jay barely manages to duck, and snares Buck’s arm. The Dean sticks a foot out and trips the Gangsta of Love. Hawke locks on the chickenwing, and after a slight repositioning, manages to scissor Buck’s other arm. “Wing Span! Jay Hawke has Lil’ Buck trapped in the Wing Span! I don’t think Buck’s arm can take much more punishment!” Pete yells. “It’s almost over! There’s no way that Lil’ Buck can escape it!” King shouts, even louder than Longdogger. Ron Mexico gets down to check on Lil’ Buck, who shakes his head. A few fans risk a glance at the counter, and notice Lil’ Buck is in luck, and begin counting down. Ten! Nine! Eight! “No! There’s no way he can outlast it! Submit, damn you!” King orders. “Lil’ Buck might manage to endure the Wing Span long enough to force Jay Hawke to take a shot!” Pete exclaims. Seven! Six! Five! Mexico asks Buck again, but the Gangsta of Love once more shakes his head. Four! Three! Two! One! *Ding* YEEEEEAAAAAAAAH! Mexico screams at Hawke to release the hold, and is force to pull Jay off of Lil’ Buck. “No! That’s bullshit! He was going to give up! Make him get back in it!” King demands. “Well, even with that interruption, I don’t think Lil’ Buck can last much longer. He’s taken way too much punishment, and I doubt he could lift a sparrow, let alone Jay Hawke,” Pete replies, allowing himself a small joke. Jay takes his shot and downs it quickly, turning to look at Lil’ Buck struggle to his feet. The Dean marches over to Sugarhill’s Finest leans back, and spews the alcohol into Buck’s eyes. “Yes! What a genius move by Jay Hawke!” King roars. “That’s not right! The rules say the wrestler has to drink the shot!” Pete yells. “No, the rules say that the wrestler has to take it, swallowing was not specified, so it’s not required,” King replies. Buck stumbles around blindly, and Hawke heads to a corner. He snatches up his International Championship belt, folds it, and sprints for Lil’ Buck. The moment before impact, Sugarhill’s Finest bends over, trying to wipe his eyes, and Hawke goes hurtling past, nearly hitting Ron Mexico, who just manages to juke out of the way. Hawke bounces into the ropes and shoots backwards, bumping into the Gangsta of Love. Buck reaches up blindly and drops to the mat. “Neckbreaker from Lil’ Buck! He might not know it, but he ducked Hawke, looking for a belt shot, and he might have just turned the tables!” Pete screams. “No, no, no! Come on, Jay, get up!” King demands. Buck slowly gets to his feet, the schnapps out of his eyes, and he grabs the music stand. Lil’ Buck places it against Jay’s throat, puts Hawke’s arms in front of the stand, and locks in the full nelson. The Gangsta of Love pulls the Dean off his feet, and drops him down. Buck quickly leans forward and pulls back on Hawke’s arms, effectively choking him. Mexico leans down, asking if Jay Hawke wishes to submit. “Come on, Jay, you can last it out! That dumb idiot did, and the Wing Span is a much better hold than that damn Champion’s Requiem!” King yells. “I don’t know, King! Jay Hawke has the better part of a minute to wait before Lil’ Buck will have to take another shot,” Longdogger points out. Blood visibly dripping from Buck’s right arm, Sugarhill’s Finest tightens up on the hold while Jay continues to flail, looking for some means of escape. “Not much longer, Jay! Just twenty seconds! Fight it, Jay, fight it!” King demands. “He’s looking kind of purple, there King. I don’t think he’s got much left,” Pete notes. “Nonsense! He’s going to tough it out,” King replies. Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! “Shut those idiots up! Only fifteen more seconds, Jay!” King encourages. The Dean of Professional Wrestling might just make it, though he’s stopped flailing his arms around. Ten seconds to go, and Mexico asks again. The blood from Lil’ Buck’s arm is running down to his hands, giving him difficulty in holding on, as the timer reaches five seconds. Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! With a second to go, Jay Hawke makes the slightest of movements, his left hand patting against his shoulder. Mexico leaps in the air and signals, bell rings mingling. *Ding* DING! DING! DING! “He made it!” King yells triumphantly. “No he didn’t!” Pete shouts even louder. Buck seems to think the same as Pete, as he releases Jay from the Champion’s Requiem and holds his left arm high. “Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match by submission, SUGARHILL’S FINEST, LIIL’ BUCK!” Funyon roars. YYYYYEAAAAAAAH!!! “Knuck if You Buck” blasts over the speakers once more, and Buck gets his jersey and pimp cup. He pauses for a moment in the ring and motions for the rest of the bottle of schnapps. Mexico hands it to him, and the Arrogant Alabaman lives up to his name by pouring the alcohol into his pimp cup, and then dumping it on Jay Hawke’s prone form. “Oh come on! That’s just uncalled for,” King says. “He was just repaying Jay Hawke for when he spat liquor in his eyes,” Pete states. As Buck limps backstage and Jay Hawke is helped to his feet, both no doubt required medical attention soon, Storm fades to a commercial for Danny Williams’ Strong Style Ribs: “Try the new Unholy Combo Plate! One Strong Style rack of ribs, one order of Horrorcole slaw, and Maori fries!” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites