Storm Losing Matches

[devo 0]

Damn. Well, my lack of experience in Hardcore Matches had me struggling to think of spots, and I admit I got kinda ridiculous with the flag nonsense.

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SWF Storm returns from commercial, beginning with a soothing shot of the announce team of Longdogger Pete and The Suicide King. LDP smiles warmly into the camera, while King is looking out over the small crowd, grinning like an idiot.

 

“And welcome back to SWF Storm, everyone!” LDP begins. “You’re seeing us right now because, well, we can’t exactly show the crowd at this point. As you know, the Cassa Rosso is home to some of the most famous sex shows in the world. As such, many of our audience members tonight are employees of the Cassa Rosso. And...to put it one way, these women are still ready to perform.”

 

“This is the greatest night of my life.” King absentmindedly adds, still staring at the multitude of bare-breasted women in the audience. LDP rolls his eyes before continuing.

 

“Anyway, we’re now asking the women to cover themselves up a bit, so we can continue this broadcast.” As he speaks, the show cuts to a shot of the Rosso’s employees being told by SWF road agents to put some clothes in. A few arguments ensue, but eventually, every woman in the audience is decent.

 

“Awwwwwwwwwwwww!” King cries, heartbroken. “Goodbye, breasts.”

 

As King mourns, the crowd of sixty or so mumurs amongst themselves, wondering why there isn’t a naked woman on the stage right now. Their question is somewhat answered when an all-too-familiar phrase is shouted over the PA system.

 

“PREPARE...FOR...LANDON!!”

 

...WAAAAAAAAAAAAHH...

 

*DUM DUM*

 

The post-riff part of "Megalomaniac" by Incubus hits, as Landon Maddix begins striding down the makeshift entrance ramp that splits the crowd. The audience looks on with indifference as Maddix slowly makes his way to the ring in front of the crowd.

 

“The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and uses Hardcore Rules!” Funyon bellows from the center of the ring, unnecessarily using a microphone. “Introducing first, from Huron, South Dakota, weighing in at two hundred and twenty-two pounds...LAAAAAAAAAAANDOOOOOON MAAAAAAAAAAAAAADIIIIIIIIIX!”

 

Somewhat perplexed at not being booed or really receiving any reaction at all, Landon leaps up to the apron and looks out at the crowd. Landon holds his arms out to the sides before leaping over the top and entering the ring, where he removes his jacket and hands it to the referee. Thinking that the stripping has recommenced, the small crowd begins to cheer, which only confuses Maddix further.

 

“Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to book the show in a locale that holds sixty people who are expecting a sex show.” LDP comments, observing the crowd’s lack of a reaction to Maddix.

 

“Well, on the plus side, we don’t have to go anywhere for post-show entertainment.” King happily counters. “In the meantime, can’t we get some of the women to take their tops back off?”

 

“UNO!”

 

“DOS!”

 

‘TRES!”

 

“CUATRO!”

 

A Mexican voice suddenly shouts the above numbers over the PA, doing so without pyro so as to avoid a Great White-esque incident. As Bunch of Believers’ “Mission Trip to Mexico” hits the speakers, Magnifico treads down the entrance ramp, his Mexican flag billowing gracefully behind him.

 

“And now, from Mexico City, Mexico, weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds...” Funyon takes a breath, “EL LUCHADOOOOOOOOORE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

ELM reaches the ring and rolls beneath its bottom rope. He pops to his feet within the ring and heads over to the ref, handing him his Mexican Flag and foregoing the usual pre-match ceremony. Magnifico then heads to the corner opposite Maddix and executes a few cursory stretches, while Landon keeps his eyes on him at all times.

 

“Magnifico seems much more determined than usual.” LDP announces. “I guess that’s to be expected after three tough losses in a row and suffering a humiliating concussion at the hands of Danny Williams.”

 

“Or it could be that the Mexican has finally grown past that ridiculous showboating and is ready to act like a real wrestler.” King counters. “’Course, there’s also the fact that no one here seems to care yet about what either of these guys do.”

 

Seeing that both men are ready to compete, the ref turns to the timekeeper and signals for the bell.

 

DING DING DING

 

Upon hearing the bell, both men immediately finish their pre-match preperations and begin to circle one another around the ring. Maddix and Magnifico slowly get closer and closer to one another and to the center of the ring, doing so while the crowd looks on in a combination of curiousity and indifference. Suddenly, both Landon and ELM lunge at each other, locking up in the middle of the squared circle. After a brief struggle, Magnifico spins behind Landon and gains control with a Rear Waistlock. ELM attempts to lift Maddix into the air, but Landon hooks his leg around Magnifico’s to prevent such a move. Maddix then throws an elbow backwards and into ELM’s face, stunning the luchadore enough for Landon to break free of the hold and dash across the ring. Maddix bounces off of the ropes on the other side of the ring and charges back towards Magnifico, and as he approaches, ELM leaps into the air and extends his legs, looking to wrap them around Landon’s head for a Hurricanrana! However, he leaps just a second too early, as Maddix has time to leap into the air and kick his legs out, slamming them into Magnifico’s gut with a Running Dropkick! ELM is knocked backwards and through the air, landing against the ropes behind him. As Magnifico doubles over and struggles to catch his breath, the crowd begins to stir a little bit, impressed despite themselves at Maddix’s lightning-quick Running Dropkick.

 

“Beautiful Running Dropkick from Landon, which perfectly countered Magnifico’s Hurricanrana attempt!” LDP reports.

 

“Extremely well done.” King adds. “That’s what the Mexican gets for attempting ridiculous flip-flopping in a Hardcore match.”

 

“Because the Running Dropkick is such a bastion of the Hardcore style.” Pete sarcastically replies.

 

Maddix pops back to his feet after landing the Dropkick and walks up to Magnifico, who’s still leaning against the ropes, struggling for breath. Landon grabs ELM by the arm and pulls him forward, before using his grip to whip Magnifico across the ring. ELM rushes across the ring, bounces off of the ropes, and charges back towards Maddix, who responds by lashing out with a quick Forearm Strike! However, Magnifico ducks under Landon’s arm and quickly spins behind him, capturing Maddix in a Rear Waistlock as he does so! Before Maddix has a chance to resist, ELM hoists him into the air, falls backwards, and throws Landon over his head, slamming the back of his neck and head into the canvas with a German Suplex! The first semblances of cheering begin to rise from the crowd as Maddix curls up and cradles his neck in pain. Meanwhile, Magnifico pops back to his feet, his gut still aching a bit and his lungs still struggling for air.

 

“ELM learned from his last attempt at a German Suplex and hit it before Landon had a chance to fight it.” LDP notes. “That’s something he’s going to have to do throughout the match, since Maddix is just as fast if not faster than Magnifico.”

 

“Like it matters.” King counters. “Remember the stipulation. As soon as Maddix gets the Mexican outside the ring and a table set up, this match is over.”

 

Maddix begins clawing his way to his feet, but Magnifico grabs him by the arm and graciously helps him get there. Once Landon’s on his feet, ELM rears his arm back, drives it forward, and...

 

CHOP!

 

*SMACK*

 

Reeling, Maddix grabs his chest and turns away from the luchadore, who’s perplexed by the lack of a WHOOOO! Shrugging his shoulders, ELM grabs Landon and turns him back around, before driving his arm forward again and slicing it into Maddix’s chest!

 

CHOP!

 

*SMACK*

 

Landon turns away from ELM once more and collapses chest first against the nearby corner. Magnifico follows after him, grabs Landon by the shoulder, and turns him around once more. However, as Maddix is turned, he suddenly drives two extended fingers forward and into ELM’s eyes! Magnifico cries out in surprise and mostly pain, turning away from Landon and stumbling across the ring as a few boos rise from the audience. The ref gets on Maddix’s case, but Landon rightly ignores him, knowing that the ref can’t do a damn thing about eye pokes.

 

“Oh yeah, I forgot about the nonstop cheating.” LDP suddenly remembers. “If Maddix does it in normal matches, imagine how underhanded he’s going to be during a Hardcore contest.”

 

“God, I’m proud of him.” King suddenly declares, getting all teary-eyed. “He’s a terrific representative of the greatest style in the world; Cowardly Memphis!”

 

Landon pushes himself out of the corner and follows Magnifico, who’s disoriented to say the least. Suddenly, Maddix throws a knee forward and into ELM’s lower back, causing the luchadore to shout out in agony and arch his spine backwards. Landon then wraps his arm around Magnifico’s neck, trapping him in a Reverse Headlock...before pulling him downward and jutting his own knee out, slamming ELM’s back into it with a Reverse Headlock Backbreaker! Landon releases Magnifico, allowing him to fall to the mat, right before turning the luchadore onto his back and covering him. The ref slides into position and begins counting while Maddix hooks his leg.

 

ONE!

 

TWO! No! ELM kicks out right after the two count, drawing a few cheers from the audience, who are slowly but surely catching on to the face/heel roles of this match.

 

“Maddix makes exquisite use of the Eye Poke/Knee to the Back combo, as he hits the Mexican with The Bottom Drops Out!” King happily reports. “And all this before we even get to the Hardcore part!”

 

Undeterred by the lack of a pinfall, Landon grabs Magnifico’s arm and stands up, pulling ELM to his feet as he does so. Maddix then uses his grip to try and whip Magnifico across the ring, only to have the luchadore reverse it. Landon is sent charging towards the far corner, which he crashes into back-first. Even before Maddix hits the turnbuckles, Magnifico is charging after him. As ELM approaches, though, Landon throws a boot into the air, slamming it into the rushing luchadore’s face! Magnifico immediately puts his hands over his nose and stumbles away from Maddix, giving him the chance to hop up onto the second turnbuckle behind him. ELM spins back to face Landon, which is his cue to leap off of the turnbuckle, flying at Magnifico with his arm extended for a Flying Forearm! ELM skids to a halt in attempt to dodge out of the way, but it’s too little too late, as Maddix slams his arm into Magnifico’s neck, knocking him to the ground! Landon lands right next to him, and as soon as he hits the mat, Maddix rolls onto the luchadore and covers him. Landon hooks the leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting.

 

ONE!

 

TWO! No! ELM easily escapes after two.

 

“Flying Forearm from Maddix!” LDP cries. “And even though Magnifico manages to kick out, Landon is constantly catching him off guard. If he keeps it up, he’ll eventually wear the luchadore down.”

 

“Sooner rather than later, with any luck.” King adds, putting on his comically small reading glasses. “I’ve been told that we’ll be treated to a brief complimentary strip show by the World Famous Cassa Rosso Call Girls after the match. Cookies and punch will be served.”

 

Maddix rolls off of the luchadore, pops to his feet, and immediately begins stomping away at Magnifico as he struggles to stand. Despite the nonstop kicks to the back and shoulders from Landon, ELM eventually manages to get to his hands and knees. When he does, Maddix reaches down, grabs Magnifico by the hair, and then scrapes the sole of his boot across ELM’s face! Realizing what a dick move that is, the small but getting-more-spirited-by-the-second crowd boos and shouts at Landon, doing so as Magnifico falls back to the mat, his hands covering his face. Grinning to himself, Maddix grabs ELM by the hair once more and painfully pulls the luchadore to his feet, before throwing him back into the nearby corner. With Magnifico lying prone against the turnbuckles, Landon rears back and delivers a stiff Forearm to ELM’s chin, knocking his head back like the top of Pez dispenser! With Magnifico dazed, Landon rears back and strikes him once more, throughly shocking ELM with his stupifying strikes. Seeing that Magnifico is properly incapacitated, Maddix grabs ELM, hoists him into the air, and sits him on the top turnbuckles. Landon then puts Magnifico’s legs behind the top rope before climbing after the luchadore, drawing a few anticipatory boos from the capacity crowd as he does so.

 

“Looks like Landon is ready to finish this match.” LDP speculates. “He’s not known for his strength, so it’s rare that we see him try any sort of top rope Suplex.”

 

“And that’s exactly why whatever Maddix has planned is going to be particularly devastating.” King adds. “He wouldn’t take this big a risk unless he had something deadly up his sleeve.”

 

Once Landon is on the top rope, he pulls Magnifico into a Front Facelock and slowly pulls him to his feet, careful to make sure both he and ELM keep their balance. He then grabs ELM by the tights and lifts...

 

And lifts...

 

And lifts...

 

...after a few tries, Maddix, confused as to why the hell ELM isn’t a convulsing heap yet, looks down and sees that Magnifico’s leg wrapped around his own! The luchadore takes advantage of this momentary confusion and uses his free leg to slam a knee into Landon’s gut! Maddix is nearly driven off of the top turnbuckle, but Magnifico manages to grab him and prevent Landon from falling to the canvas. The fans immediately surrounding the ring lean forward in their folding chairs as ELM struggles to keep him and Maddix on the top turnbuckle. As soon as they’re both steady, Magnifico hoists Landon into the air as if for a Scoop Slam, then suddenly turns and throws him over the top rope!! The fans in Maddix’s direct flight path hastily scatter out of the way, leaving Landon to crash through a field of steel chairs and then into the hard, unforgiving ground! The audience suddenly comes to life, rising to their feet as they release an impressed OHHHH! Meanwhile, Magnifico totters on the top turnbuckle, barely staying on it as he looks out at Maddix, who lays motionless amongst the strewn steel furniture.

 

“Holy God!” Pete cries, understandably surprised. “Magnifico just hurled Landon over the top rope and to the outside, where he crashed into the makeshift seating area around the ring!”

 

“Dammit.” King grumbles. “Now we have to wait longer for breasts.”

 

ELM eventually regains his balance on the top turnbuckle, and having done so, slowly stands up on it. He looks out over the outside for a moment, where Landon lies face-up, motionless save for the rhythmic heaving of his chest. Suddenly and without and warning, Magnifico leaps off of the top turnbuckle and at Maddix, straightening his body in mid-air for a Frogsplash! The crowd, who suddenly have a vested interest in this match cheer happily as ELM makes perfect contact with the Splash, his body crashing directly into Maddix’s gut! Magnifico bounces off of Landon and onto the ground, clutching his gut as he does so. The audience applauds appreciatively as ELM rolls around on the outside, too distracted with the pain flowing through his gut to make the cover.

 

“Whoa! ELM follows up with a Top Rope Frogsplash to the outside!” Pete excitedly reports. “Executed perfectly! We’ve seen Magnifico shy away from the aerial moves since his return, but it looks like he’ll do anything to pick up a win here.”

 

The ref rolls to the outside, making sure to follow the action as ELM begins to gather his thoughts and determination. Slowly but surely, he forgets about the pain and crawls over to Maddix, who’s still motionless. Finally, Magnifico throws his body onto Landon’s, making the cover to the delight of the audience! The ref drops to his knees and makes the count as the luchadore limply lays on Maddix’s chest.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRRRRRNOOOO!! Maddix gets a shoulder up JUST before the three count, enciting a disappointed OHHHH! from the small but excited crowd.

 

“No! No!” Pete cries. “Landon displays his well-known resilience and kicks out of Magnifico’s Frogsplash!”

 

ELM rolls off of Landon and onto a pile of chairs, scowling and gritting his teeth as he does so. Magnifico slowly pushes himself to his feet, having hurt himself considerably with that Splash as well. After a moment, ELM stands, doing so as Maddix begins to stir. Magnifico looks down on him for a second, wondering what to do next, before catching sight of the pile of chairs he just pushed himself off of. Breathing heavily, ELM thinks for a second before reaching down, grabbing Maddix by the arm, and helping him the rest of the way to his feet. Once Landon is standing, Magnifico throws a sloppy knee forward and into Maddix’s gut, which doubles him over and easily allows ELM to pull him into a Standing Head-Scissors. Magnifico then hooks both of Landon’s arms and takes a step backwards, so that he’s standing on the pile of chairs and Maddix is looking right down on them!

 

“It looks like ELM is going to try and land the Cancun Crunch on that pile of chairs!” LDP speculates. “If anything’ll keep Landon down for the three count, this is it!”

 

“How deliciously deadly!” King declares. “The Mexican might actually do something impressive for once!”

 

ELM takes a moment, gathering up the strength to lift Landon and hit the Underhook Brainbuster. However, his rest is a second too long, as Maddix suddenly breaks an arm free, falls to his knees, and then drives said arm upwards, slamming it into Magnifico’s groin! A collective wince rises from the male portion of the audience as ELM immediately doubles over and stumbles away from Landon, feeling nothing but the intense agony shooting through every part of his body. Meanwhile, Landon gets back to his feet, a hand on his gut as he’s still feeling the effects of the Frogsplash. Once he’s standing, Maddix grabs the stumbling luchadore by the back of his head, pulls him back a few steps...and then suddenly sits out and yanks ELM downwards, sitting out as he does so!

 

*CLANG*

 

“OHHHHHHHH!!”

 

Maddix drives the back of Magnifico’s head into the pile of chairs with the So-Dak Moment! ELM twists his body and cradles his skull as Maddix sits over him, wincing with each deep breath that he takes.

 

“So-Dak Moment on the pile of chairs!” LDP shouts. “Considering the injury Magnifico

suffered during his match with Danny, that might be enough to get the pin!”

 

“Hell, it’d be enough anyway.” King counters. “It’s a little known fact that the Mexican’s skull is as thin as peanut britle. His brain is like a pincushion for bone shrapnel at this point, I’d imagine.”

 

King’s dramatizing aside, Magnifico looks to be in pretty bad shape as he lies motionless amongst the field of strewn furniture. After a moment, Landon grits his teeth, leans forward, and drapes his body over Magnifico’s, covering the luchadore to the displeasure of the crowd. The ref falls to his knees and begins counting as Maddix slowly and painfully hooks the leg.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRRRRRRRRNOOOOOO!! ELM gets a shoulder up right before the three count, drawing a relieved pop from the cheerful crowd! Maddix pushes himself off of Magnifico, glares coldly at the referee, and accosts him for not making the three count. Unintimidated, the ref holds up two fingers, spurring Landon to flip him off as he begins pushing his way back to his feet.

 

“No! Magnifico manages to get a shoulder up, and Landon is NOT pleased!” LDP declares. “I can only imagine what he’ll now resort to to get a pinfall on the luchadore!”

 

His question is soon as answered as Landon, once on his feet, throws up the curtain blocking the underneath of the ring. Maddix searches beneath the squared circle for a moment...before pulling ol’ reliable, the card table! Landon slowly drags the fatal furniture from beneath the ring before efficently setting up, obviously experienced in the ways of putting up folding tables. Once the table is upright, Landon grabs Magnifico, who’s just begin to stir, jerks him to his feet, and then rolls ELM onto the table. Maddix then delivers a few quick Forearms to the laid-out luchadore, making sure he is properly stunned before clilmbing up on the table itself. Landon carefully stands in the flimsy wood before even-more-carefully grabbing Magnifico by the hair and pulling him to his feet. The table creaks and bends slightly under the weight, but stays up, even when Maddix pulls ELM into a Reverse Facelock.

 

“Landon’s going for a Landon Eye through the table and to the floor!” Pete cries. “I can’t imagine Magnifico has a chance in hell of kicking out of this!”

 

“Damn straight! He SHOULD have been out cold after the So-Dak Moment into the chairs, but at least it led to what’s sure to be tons more pain and suffering for the Mexican.” King adds.

 

Landon holds Magnifico in that position for a second, making sure that the table is steady before continuing. Finally, Maddix spins around, ready to slam ELM’s skull into the table with the Landon Eye...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAACK!!*

 

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

 

In mid-spin, the table suddenly snaps in half, sending both men tumbling to the ground as the surprised crowd cries out in disbelief! Magnifico and Landon both hit the floor hard, laying mere inches from each other between the splintered halves of the wooden table.

 

“Holy...the table split beneath Landon and Magnifico as Maddix was going for the Landon Eye!” LDP reports. “Bad stroke of luck for Maddix, who’s now in the same exact position as ELM; namely, stunned and in pain and lying prone on the floor.”

 

Neither Magnifico nor Maddix move a muscle for several seconds, each man struggling to overcome the haze that accompanies such a nasty unexpected fall. Meanwhile, a chant rises out of the small but now-really-into-it crowd.

 

“E-L-M! E-L-M! E-L-M!”

 

As if cued by the chanting, Magnifico stirs and slowly begins pushing himself to his feet, doing so as Landon begins climbing to his only a couple of feet away. Having taken less damage over the course of the match, Maddix rises more quickly than the luchadore, reaching his feet as Magnifico gets to his hands on knees. As Landon stands, he stumbles forward and into the ring, whose apron he leans against as he struggles to keep on his feet. His entire body aching and his lungs struggling to get oxygen into his body, Maddix takes a much-needed rest as he stares coldly at ELM, who is making a desperate lunge to his feet. Magnifico barely manages to stand, but the second he does so, Landon pushes himself off of the apron and delivers a sharp kick to ELM’s gut, immediately dropping him back down to one knee. A determined scowl on his face, Maddix grabs Magnifico by the hair, pulls him back to his feet, and then uses his grip to pull ELM into a ¾ Bulldog Facelock! Wasting no time, Landon then charges towards the ring apron, puts a foot onto it, and then leaps backwards off of it, looking to land the Codebreaker! However, as he begins to flip, ELM suddenly reaches up and grabs Landon by the tights and arm, twists him around in mid-air, and in one fluid motion, sits out and drives Maddix’s back into the ground with ridiculous force! The fans released an impressed OHHHH!! as Landon cries out in pain and flops to the ground, his spine punished by a sloppy but effective La Bomba Fantastica!

 

“Good lord, what a reversal!” Pete cries, excited despite himself. “Magnifico yoinks Maddix out of mid-air and just slams him into the ground with La Bomba Fantastica! Amazing counter!”

 

“Psh, gimme a break.” King replies, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s obvious to me that Maddix allowed the Mexican to make that reversal, just so ELM would feel better about himself. That’s just the kind of guy he is.”

 

“I HIGHLY doubt that, considering that not five minutes ago, Landon went out of his way to try and crush Magnifico’s testicles.” LDP sharply counters.

 

ELM flopped to the ground as well right after landing the Powerbomb, still trying to shake off the effects of the damage he’s taken over the course of the match. After a few seconds, Magnifico grits his teeth and slowly pushes himself to his hands and knees, which is only a quick rest stop before he lunges to his feet. ELM staggers forward as he gets to his feet, coming to a rest against the timekeeper’s table. Coincidentally, that’s exactly where his Mexican flag is being held. Magnifico catches sight of said flag, grabs it, and then heads over to Landon, who lies face-down and motionless on the ground. ELM holds the flag in his hands for a moment, looking it over for a second as if a knight admiring his sword. He then casts his eyes down towards Maddix, doing so while pulling the flag high above his head, like a pickaxe. Suddenly, ELM drives the pole downwards and across Maddix’s shoulders!

 

*THWACK!*

 

*THWACK!*

 

*THWACK!*

 

*THWACK!*

 

*THWACK!*

 

ELM lands five solid blows with the flagpole, his expression growing fiercer and angrier with each strike! Landon unashamedly cries out in pain with each strike and turns onto his back after the last one, unable to take any more damage on his shoulders, which flare with unspeakable agony. But when Maddix turns onto his back, Magnifico suddenly stomps a boot onto his arm, keeping it in place as he pulls the flag above his head once more! But this time, his grip is different...his hands are wrapped around the middle of the pole, and the sharp tip is pointed downwards and at Maddix’s trapped hand.

 

“Oh my God...oh God.” Pete whispers, disbelieving. “Mags...Mags, don’t do it...”

 

Many of the audience members cover their mouths and look on with morbid curiosity as Magnifico stands over Landon, the flag still hanging menacingly over his head. His teeth gritted and his face a mask of unspeakable frustration, Magnifico stares down at Landon, who’s dazed and unsure as to what is going on. Slowly, he looks up and locks eyes with Magnifico, right before noticing the sharpened metal tip of the Mexican flag, which is still aimed directly at his trapped palm. Instantly, Landon’s expression changes to one of wordless fear, as his pleading eyes bore into Magnifico’s, begging the luchadore not to do what he’s thinking about doing. When ELM sees Landon’s expression, his gaze softens, and the flag is lowered just a little bit. Upon seeing that, Maddix’s expression quickly turns into a grin that says, “Hahaha. Sucker.” Landon yanks his arm out from beneath Magnifico’s leg and immediately drives it upwards, delivering yet another Low Blow to the intense displeasure of the audience! ELM immediately doubles over, allowing Maddix to sit up and grab Magnifico by the head and leg, right before using that grip to pull him down and pin him to the ground with a quick Rollup! The ref immediately falls to his knees and begins counting, doing so as the surprised luchadore struggles to escape.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRRRRNOOOOOO!! Magnifico breaks free of the Rollup just before the three count, drawing a wave of relieved cheers from the audience.

 

“Thank God.” LDP sighs, relieved. “For a moment there, it looked like...like...”

 

“Oh, you can say it!” King snaps, annoyed. “He was going to drive that shiv on the end of his flagpole through Landon’s hand! And you’re acting like the Mexican’s suddenly above such acts!”

 

“He IS.” Pete firmly declares. “The Magnifico who did that at Genesis II is not the Magnifico we’re seeing before us tonight.”

 

“Bullshit.” King angrily counters. “Beneath that goody-goody fan-pleasing act is the low-down scumbag who’d stab you as soon as look at you.”

 

LDP and King argue like this for quite a while, doing so while ELM and Maddix scramble to their feet as quickly as possible, each trying to stand before the other can. As it is, Landon reaches his first, which gives him time to grab Magnifico by the hair and arm and throw him beneath the bottom rope and into the ring. Maddix dives in after him, popping to his feet inside the ring as ELM climbs back to his. The second Magnifico is on his feet, Landon, facing the corner, pulls ELM into a Bulldog Facelock! Once Magnifico is secured in the hold, Maddix runs at and up the corner, and then pushes himself off of the top turnbuckle and flips backwards over ELM! But the second Landon’s pependicular to Magnifico and the mat, ELM jerks his head free from Maddix’s grip, at the same time reaching up and hooking both of his opponent’s arms! Because of this, Landon ends up landing on his feet behind and facing away from Magnifico, his arms hooked as if for a Backslide! Wasting no time, ELM immediately makes a break for the corner, looking to reverse the Codebreaker into the Baja California Crusher!

 

“No! Landon made the mistake of going for the Codebreaker again, and Magnifico’s going to counter it into the Baja California Crusher!” LDP reports, excited despite himself.

 

“Uh huh. Give Landon just a second...” King patiently replies.

 

King turns out to be surprisingly prophetic, as Landon begins running backwards with the luchadore, surprising Magnifico and driving him chest first into the corner before he has a chance to stop himself! Landon immediately breaks his arms free of the hold and spins to face the luchadore, lying in wait as Magnifico stumbles backwards out of the corner. Slowly but surely, ELM turns to face Landon...and immediately has an arm put across his chest and his leg hooked, as if for a Downward Spiral! Maddix then quickly maneuvers Magnifico into an STO position...before suddenly and expectedly whipping his own body backwards, slamming ELM’s face into the canvas with the Crash Landon ’05!! ELM flops lifelessly to the mat, lying motionless and face-down on the canvas as the audience alternates between OHHHH!ing in admiration for the move and booing Maddix for it.

 

“Crash Landon ’05! Yeah!” King giddily cries. “Maddix pulls out one of the strongest moves in his arsenal to put away the luchadore!”

 

However, Magnifico isn’t quite put away yet, as Landon is struggling to summon up the determination to roll ELM over and pin him. After taking a second to catch his breath, Maddix pushes himself off of the mat and crawls over to Magnifico, before grabbing ELM’s shoulder and turning him onto his back! A second later, Landon collapses on Magnifico, unceremoniously making the pin as a fresh wave of boos pours in from the crowd. The ref drops to his knees and makes the count, doing so as a drained Maddix lays motionless on Magnifico.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! The ref pops to his feet and signals for the bell, which struggles to be heard over the spirited booing of sixty perverts.

 

“Your winner, by pinfall...” Funyon begins, “LAAAAAAAAAAAANDOOOOOOOOOOON MAAAAAAAAAAAAAADIIIIIIIIIIXX!!

 

As Funyon is announcing his victory, Maddix rolls off of Magnifico and begins pushing himself to his feet, a triumphant yet devious grin painted across his face. Once he stands, he makes a point of having his arm raised by the referee, which only renews the crowd’s hatred of him.

 

“Maddix gets the pinfall!” LDP reports, trying to hide his disappointment. “Landon’s Codebreaker was reversed into the Baja California Crusher, which Maddix reversed into the Crash Landon ’05! It didn’t look like Magnifico even had a chance to counter.”

 

“No sir.” King adds, grinning like an idiot. “The Mexican couldn’t comprehend that his counter was countered, and Landon took full advantage of it.”

 

Landon pauses his celebration to look back at Magnifico, who’s struggling onto his hands and knees. The full realization of what just happened coming to him, ELM slaps the mat in frustration, incensed that he let another win escape his grasp. Maddix watches Magnifico for a second, looking strangely throughftul...before just shaking his head in disappointment and exiting the ring, finding the luchadore not worth dealing with for another moment.

 

“Well, stick around folks.” Pete finally says, his tone evening out. “Coming up next is our Main Event, where Scott Pretzler and Toxxic will take each other on in a Hardcore Match!”

 

The final image shown before the shot fades to darkness is El Luchadore Magnifico, still on his hands and knees as his face twists into a mask of unspeakable rage...

[JJ Johnson 0]

I have to say I liked your match more, ELM. I'm not sure why, but it was just more fun to read for me. Speaking of losing, here's my match.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Hello and groeten, ladies and gentlemen! I’m Longdogger Pete, joined by my partner the Suicide King, and we are here LIVE inside the Casso Rosso club in B-E-A-UTIFUL Amsterdam, nestled deep in the heart of the Netherlands! WELCOME to SWF Storm!” says the SWF’s play-by-play man, welcoming both the wide-awake European and probably off eating lunch North American crowd.

 

“Did you just say scrotum?”

 

And the Suicide King contributes another gem thanks to his inability to speak Dutch.

 

“No, I said “groeten”. It’s “greetings” in Dutch.” explains Pete.

 

“Since when do you know Dutch, Pete?” inquires King.

 

“It’s right there, on the monitors.” And for a second time tonight, Pete’s explanation is correct, every word they say appearing, in Dutch, on the monitors.

 

“Huh. You know I always thought that-”

 

Whatever King intended to say, it’s cut off by the sound of...bagpipes? The crowd looks around in confusion, as there is no bagpiper in either of the upcoming competitors entrance music. King is less confused.

 

“No...no that’s not just some bagpiper. This was a UFC theme, but whoms?”

 

It is then that the bagpipes cease, and the heavy post-bagpipe riff of “Let’s Do This Now” by KoRn heralds the arrival of the challenger.

 

“Oh, right! Johnson!” shouts King, as the former, and possibly future, Hardcore Gamer’s Champion steps through the curtain hung over the dressing room (read: men’s bathroom) door. Johnson has abandoned his tights, robes, etc. for black cargos, Johnson’s many tattoos almost glistening in the spotlight, one in particular on his left arm standing out. The characters are incomprehensible to all in attendance, as they are in Chinese, but thanks to the magic of MONITOR TRANSLATORS, King and Pete know what it means.

 

 

“Pain is the best instructor, but no one wants to go to his class...a little ominous, don’t you think?” Pete is first to give his review of the judo-inspired ink.

 

“That’s the coolest saying I’ve ever heard! I’m getting that tattooed on my forehead! And that wouldn’t make me the only one getting my forehead tattooed tonight!” King’s review is a little different, and the second statement only serves to prompt another question from Pete.

 

“Who else is getting a tattoo on their forehead that you know?” is the Longdogger’s perfectly reasonable question.

 

“Oh, you didn’t hear? Zyon’s getting a tattoo of knuckles on his forehead. And Johnson’s going to help!”

 

In a strange coincidence, as King cackles at his pun, Johnson enters the ring with the chorus of his theme playing in the background...

BREAK YOU NOW

 

MERCY I CANNOT ALLOW

 

THROUGH YOUR FACE MY FIST WILL PLOW

 

WATCHING AS YOUR BLOOD POURS DOWN

 

LET’S DO THIS NOW

 

Before those five lines can repeat, they are shut off, along with the lights, and replaced by a new theme. There is no Smarktron, and so “I’m born”, “I’m alive”, and “I breathe” are purely audio on this occasion, a golden glint resulting from spotlight hitting championship as Zyon makes his way out of the men’s room, the Netherlands crowd rising to their feet to greet the Indiana native.

 

“This is going to be a great match, King! Two great fliers, and yet two different styles! A title on the line!”

 

“And HOOKERS! Just like home!” finishes the Suicide King, although that may or may not have been what Pete intended to say. Zyon skips his traditional headbanging, choosing instead to find the best girl possible before Johnson does. Johnson apparently doesn’t care, simply pointing at one and giving a quick “come here” signal. Zyon finds one as well, and brings her into the ring. Now that the teams are complete, Funyon can begin his announcements, and he does so.

 

“The following contest is the RED LIGHT RUMBLE, and it is for the SWF Hardcore Gamer’s Championship! Here are the rules: Each contestant picks one employee of the Cassa Rosso to be their partner. The match then becomes a Tornado Tag match, with no disqualifications. If a member of Zyon’s team scores the deciding fall, Zyon retains the championship. In that same vein, if a member of Johnson’s team scores the deciding fall, the championship goes to the challenger.”

 

Funyon pauses to take a breath, then continues.

 

“...and introducing the participants! First, the champion and his partner, from Elkhart, Indiana and Amsterdam, Holland...”

 

RAAAAAAAAAHH!!

 

“...respectively, and at a combined weight of 307 pounds, Zyon and Heidi!”

 

“Heidi?” asks King. “How stereotypical.”

 

“And the opponents, consisting of the challenger and his partner, from Windsor, Ontario, Canada and Grenoble, France respectively, and at a combined weight of...”

 

It is at this point that Funyon realizes he never got a weight from the challenger’s partner. And from the “mind your own business” look on her face, he’s not getting one.

 

“...at a combined weight of AT LEAST 219 pounds, JJ Johnson and Renee!”

 

“Renee?” asks Pete. “How stereotypical.”

 

DING DING DING!

 

And so the match, in stereotypical “bell ringing” fashion, begins, Sexton Hardcastle, Ronald “Red” Herrington and Ced Ordonez the three referees assigned to this match to make sure that no pinfall or submission goes unnoticed.

 

Johnson starts off by pulling a kendo stick out of his belt loop and swinging it at his desired target.

 

WHAP!

 

The swing is accurate, and Renee the French hooker hits the floor, unconscious after she just had a stiff bamboo rod bounced off her skull.

 

Zyon and Heidi stare at the fallen Frog until Johnson lashes out again, and the Netherlander joins Renee on the canvas.

 

BOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

Zyon looks down at the Holland hooker, hazy horror haranguing his head. He then looks up at Johnson, who mouths “One on one”. Zyon realizes that it’s Tornado Tag, and he has to fight or else he loses the belt he fought so hard to win, fought so hard up to this point to keep. Johnson tosses the stick aside, and the two engage in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Johnson is quick to snake his leg behind Zyon’s and force the smaller competitor to the mat, then drop on top of him to maintain control.

 

“And a judo trip to officially start things off after Johnson KOs both he and Zyon’s partners. For some reason, Johnson isn’t going to trust a Frenchwoman to do any fighting.” King comments.

 

Johnson rolls off of Zyon and kips up, drawing some boos that are quickly drowned out by cheers as the Indianan mimics the maneuver! Johnson lashes out with a lazy hook kick that Zyon easily ducks. Zyon then strides to the ropes and onto the second, where he springs back into a moonsault body block that finds the two chest to chest, the champion’s momentum forcing the challenger onto his back. Zyon follows up that Half Moon by going for another, splashing down onto Johnson’s chest and hooking the leg as Herrington slides into the ring to make the count.

 

ONE!

 

But Johnson shoots his shoulder off the mat, stopping the ref’s count. Johnson then worms his way out from under the less experienced Zyon and shoves himself to his feet to deliver a sharp kick to the ribs of the Unique Youth. As the Indianan clutches at his chest, Johnson slides out of the ring and goes in search of weaponry. A quick glance under the ring reveals that the readiest weapon available is a table. Johnson grabs it and stands upright, hoisting the table up to put into the ring.

 

CLANG!

 

...and inadvertently blocking Zyon’s kendo stick shot! Johnson immediately enters Ultimate Fighter mode, abandoning the table and rolling into the ring as Zyon barely misses another shot. Johnson scrambles to his feet and throws a kick that knocks the kendo stick out of Zyon’s hand and into the air, which he then grabs and swings at the Unique Youth’s head. Zyon has a trick up his sleeve, though, as he bridges back Matrix-style, avoiding the stinging bamboo. Johnson misses no time in aiming his backswing at Zyon’s forehead, but that too fails, Zyon doing a backflip as the stick goes whistling under him. Landing on his feet, Zyon dashes forward and delivers a front dropkick to Johnson’s chest, kipping up for the second time in the match to thunderous applause. Oh snap!

 

“Would you look at that! Zyon showing both his flexibility and his control over his body to dodge what could have been hard shots from that kendo stick, then showing his speed by delivering that dropkick!” Pete says, obviously impressed.

 

“So he pulls a reversal out of his BUTT. Wow. Big whoop. I bet Johnson could do that.” King is less impressed, as you can see.

 

Johnson rolls through the kick and back to his feet, running forward and dodging the kendo stick that is now in Zyon’s possession as he bounces off the ropes. Zyon turns around as Johnson is throwing his boot up.

 

CRACK!

 

The champ falls victim to a Yakuza kick, and the challenger hooks the leg as Herrington begins the count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

T-KICKOUT!

 

Johnson immediately rolls off his opponent and out to the floor, where he grabs the table from earlier and slides it into the ring. He then follows, Zyon just starting to get up as he shakes the cobwebs out of his head. Johnson sets up the table in the corner, being very careful to get the angle just right before turning around to see Zyon running at him! Johnson dives through the ropes to the apron, not wanting to waste the table just yet, and stands, wiping his brow as if it’s hard work dodging the Unique Youth. He then turns around and...

 

WHAP!

 

...finds out just how hard it is, Zyon springing off the table to the outside and nailing a dropkick on the cocky Canadian!

 

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!

 

“Wow! Zyon’s feet making an impact, even while being thought on! A creative move from the champion to take the challenger off both the apron and his high horse!” Pete calls, unintentionally and thoughtlessly butchering the term “thinking on your feet” with his attempted personification.

 

“Did you just thoughtlessly butcher the term “thinking on your feet”?” asks King.

 

“Not intentionally.” Pete responds as Johnson pulls himself off the ground, checking his nose for bleeding. Finding none, he turns around just in time to watch Zyon leap off the apron and wrap his legs around his JJ’s head as he performs a hurricanrana! Ordonez slides in to count it!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

T-BRIDGE OUT!

 

Although Johnson was caught by surprise, he’s not weary enough to suffer a fate similar to what toppled Todd Cortez just four days ago. Johnson is up to his feet at the same time Zyon is, and begins a kick and fist laden assault in an attempt to get the match back under control. Zyon attempts to block them, but the flurry of blows is too much for him to handle, and he realizes he has two options if he can’t find a way to halt Johnson’s strikes: Fight back and lose, or defend himself and lose.

 

WHAM!

 

He takes the first option, but one measly punch isn’t enough to deter an Ultimate Fighter, and Johnson continues raining blow after blow after blow.

 

BAM!

 

After blow.

 

BAM!

 

After blow.

 

BAM! BAM! BAM!

 

After blow after blow after blow. Zyon finally worms his way out from under the challenger and stands, turning around to attempt to regain his advantage before Johnson can get to his feet. Unfortunately, Johnson jumps from his knees to his feet, and from his feet to the air, before driving one of his feet into Zyon’s chin!

 

SMACK!

 

OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!

 

Even though he’s the bad guy, the fans “ooooh” in appreciation of the athletic maneuver as Zyon stares at the lights of the club, and Johnson goes looking for another implement of opponent destruction. On his way, he grabs the kendo stick out of the ring and cracks Renee and Heidi upside the head once more, just to make sure they stay down. A trip to Funyon’s position later, and Johnson is in possession of both a kendo stick and a steel chair. Johnson makes his way back to where Zyon is up to his knees, his brains (and jaw) rattled by that thrust kick, and sets up the chair before sizing up Zyon with the stick.

 

“Hmmm...what are we going to see here?” ponders Pete, possibly petrified.

 

“Stop the alliteration, dammit!” shouts King, kangaroo...oh never mind.

 

Johnson’s motive then becomes clear, as he runs and leaps, using the chair as a springboard to propel him towards Zyon, kendo stick raised, ready to strike...

 

 

“NICE dropkick by Zyon!”

 

“Bah!”

 

...but not ready to be struck. Alas, he is, Zyon managing to force both his feet into Johnson’s stomach and send the Canadian tumbling head over heels upon reaching the ground.

 

“And with that, Zyon buys a little more time to recuperate AND gets that weapon out of Johnson’s hands!” calls Pete. And indeed, Johnson has lost his grip on the martial arts training device, which Zyon picks up and readies to strike a blow of his own. Johnson waits a moment, then kips up, almost cat-like with his “I meant for that to happen. Honestly.” look on his face, then turns around as ZYON SWINGS THE KENDO STICK...

 

 

...and Johnson makes Keanu Reeves proud, bridging backwards much like Zyon did earlier to avoid the shot from the stick. However, unlike Zyon, Johnson doesn’t give his assailant time to swing again as he leaps FROM THE MATRIX POSITION TO DELIVER A NO-TOUCH ENZIGUIRI!

 

WHAP!

 

“I LOVE IT, PETE! Not only does Johnson do that Matrix dodge, and better than Zyon does I might add, but he kicks his THE FIRST THREE LETTERS OF THIS WORD HAVE BEEN EDITTED OUT SO WE CAN AIR THIS IN THE UNITED STATES. THANK YOU. ...king head off! What a move!”

 

King is ELATED that Johnson was able to land such an athletic kick, and Pete, while not as elated, is certainly impressed.

 

“I may not be as elated as you are, but I’m certainly impressed. That was a great counter.”

 

Johnson lands hard on his left arm as Zyon falls to his knees, then his face, his eyes glossed over after the HEAD TRAUMA~! that results from an enziguiri. Johnson rolls over for the cover and says, in a quiet and raspy voice that the camera still picks up, “That’s why you don’t turn your back on me, Gomer.”

 

“Ha! Gomer! I get it! Because he’s from Indiana, just like Gomer was!” King shouts.

 

“Ummm...Gomer was from North Carolina.” corrects Pete as Zyon kicks out at two.

 

“Are we talking about the same Gomer?”

 

“Gomer Pyle?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Yeah. North Carolina.”

 

You can almost hear the Price is Right failure song in the background as King stares blankly at his broadcast associate. Meanwhile, Johnson has hit two rolling Germans, and has his hands clasped for a third as Zyon tears at his arms, trying his damndest to not have his spine jarred again by the impactful maneuver. Sadly, his efforts just aren’t enough on this occasion, and he once more finds himself sailing backwards, then down.

 

WHUMP!

 

BOOO!

 

Johnson keeps the hands clasped, hoists Zyon up, and hits a fourth...

 

...then another lift...

 

...then a fifth...

 

...then another lift...

 

...then a sixth...

 

...then another lift...

 

...then a seventh...

 

...then another lift...

 

...then an eighth...

 

 

NO! Zyon breaks the grip of Johnson and rolls forward, grabbing Johnson’s legs and stacking him on his shoulders as the Hardcastle makes the count!

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!

 

 

 

 

NO! Johnson thrusts his legs out and forward, breaking Zyon’s grip and getting himself off of his shoulders just before the three count.

 

“And a surprise Victory Roll almost wins the match for Zyon! How anticlimatic would THAT have been?” Pete asks.

 

“Very.” is King’s bitter response.

 

Zyon’s upper back and shoulders ache from the seven German suplexes onto concrete and very, very thin padding. He looks for a weapon, then realizes that that table is still set up in the corner of the ring. He slides in to grab it, but Johnson slides in as well and grabs HIM. Zyon tries to stomp the still-grounded Johnson, but he moves too fast and is up to his feet, delivering a boot to the gut before applying a standing head-scissors.

 

“Johnson could be looking for a Tiger Driver here.” LDP points out.

 

Johnson hooks the left arm.

 

“Yeah, and right next to a table. He’ll probably take the table out of the corner and set it up or something after this.” notes King.

 

Johnson hooks the right arm, all the energy he’s expended and all of Zyon’s offense catching up to him now.

 

“Wait...you don’t think...”

 

But Pete doesn’t get to finish his thought, as Johnson lifts.

 

 

 

 

Turns.

 

 

 

 

 

And drops.

 

 

 

 

 

Through a table.

 

“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY THE FIRST THREE LETTERS HAVE BEEN EDITTED AGAINKING GOD!” shouts King,

 

“I CONCUR, KING! TIGER DRIVER THROUGH A TABLE SET UP IN A CORNER! ZYON FELL RIGHT ON HIS NECK! THIS COULD BE ACADEMIC!” cries Pete, as Johnson staggers for a moment, then falls to his knees and goes for the cover.

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

 

NO! NO! HEIDI, of all people, dives into the ring and breaks up the pin!

 

“AND THE SURPRISES KEEP COMING! After all Johnson has done, after all his efforts to keep the women out of this match, a prostitute may have cost him a chance at glory! The ironing is delicious!” calls Pete.

 

“Irony.” corrects King.

 

“What did I say?”

 

“Ironing.”

 

Once again, a Price is Right moment occurs at the announce table, this time Pete’s turn to stare blankly. Heidi, on the other hand, is slapping the hell out of a steadily angrier and angrier Ultimate Fighter, who finally has had enough and shoves her down. Striking a hooker! HEEL HEAT~!

 

Johnson is up slowly, and just as soon as he’s up Heidi is back on the offeensive, throwing slaps like nobodies business. Johnson is about to strike back, when Heidi’s offense is derailed by Renee! And so the two prostitutes catfight out of the ring as Johnson turns to the formerly assumed dead, now assumed up to one elbow Zyon, laying in the wreckage of the table, one half of it still laying on top of him. Johnson steps back and waits for the Unique Youth to rise. It takes a while, but Zyon eventually shrugs off the impact and makes it to his feet. Johnson then moves in and ducks around, trying for what would make an eighth German, but Zyon blocks it. Johnson tries again. Zyon blocks it again. Johnson tries again, and finally gets Zyon over his head...

 

 

 

 

...but Zyon turns the tide in his favor, spiking Johnson into the former table with a reverse hurricanrana!

 

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!

 

The crowd goes nuts as Zyon once again has the match in his hands, and he goes for the cover!

 

ONE

 

 

TWO

 

Throws Zyon off his shoulders just before the three count does Johnson, the fans disappointed that Zyon wasn’t able to put the Ultimate Fighter away with the headspiky goodness that is the reverse ‘rana. Then again, Johnson wasn’t able to put Zyon away with a Tiger Driver through a table, so there you go.

 

Meanwhile, Heidi and Renee are still slapping each other. This appears to be the extent of their moveset.

 

Johnson and Zyon are both up now, and Zyon has climbed to the top rope. Before he can leap off and perform one of his signature high-flying maneuvers, Johnson hits the ropes, causing Zyon to take the NUT SHOT OF DOOM on the top turnbuckle.

 

“Please remember, ladies and gentlemen, that this is a Tornado Tag match, and not a one on one contest. The women aren’t doing anything exciting, though, and so we’re focusing on WHERE THE ACTION IS! MONDAY NITR-err, Johnson and Zyon.” the Longdogger informs us.

 

Johnson has scaled the turnbuckles now, and is looking for something, anything that’ll put him away and win him this title. ANYTHING.

 

Then it occurs to him.

 

Johnson holds onto one of Zyon’s arms and pulls, almost as if going for an avalanche monkey flip. But as Zyon flips, Johnson flips with him, wrapping his legs around his arm and pulling as they fall to the ground...

 

BAM!

 

...and Johnson keeps the armbar locked on, the two bouncing perhaps a half-inch off the canvas as the painful maneuver, comboed with the harsh landing, begins to take effect.

 

“AVALANCHE SPIDER JUJI-GATAME, and Johnson may very well have this match won! There’s no way Zyon can get to the ropes, and even if he could, there’s no rope breaks!”

 

King is more arrogant than Johnson is at this point, but then again, King is more arrogant than anyone on the roster. That’s saying a lot, but Johnson could care less about who’s arrogant or not. He’s got a title to win.

 

Zyon could care even less than Johnson about who’s arrogant or not. He’s got a title to retain, and the chances of that aren’t looking too good at the moment. From the look on his face, the pain is excruciating. From the look on Johnson’s face, the thought of regaining the only title he’s ever held is thrilling.

 

Zyon manages to roll himself off his back, putting Johnson in a School Boy of sorts as Ordonez slides in for the cover.

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

But Johnson rolls through, and has Zyon in perfect position.

 

“JOHNSON COULD LOCK IN THE FROSTBITE HERE! If he does, this match is over, Pete.”

 

King may be arrogant, but with the weak neck that comes with Tiger Drivers through tables, he may have a point. All Johnson has to do is get himself onto his back while keeping Zyon face down and cross his face with his leg, and it’s academic from there.

 

That can’t happen if a hooker from the Netherlands breaks it up though, and unlikely as it may be to happen, it does, Heidi clawing at Johnson’s back in an attempt to force a break. Johnson refuses to let go, attempting to roll onto his back, knowing that once he does there’s no amount of clawing that’ll keep him from regaining the title.

 

"AH! I NEED THOSE GOD DAMMIT!"

 

Unless of course, said raking is to the eyes. Johnson immediately breaks the hold and rolls out of clawing distance as Renee comes in and tackles Heidi, her momentum taking both prostitutes out of the ring. Zyon is up, favoring his arm as he ducks a Yakuza kick, then fires back with a kick of his own, this one spinning wheel, that takes both men down. Both are up quickly, and Johnson fires a quick kick to Zyon’s left arm. Zyon winces, but throws a punch back.

 

“These men have been fighting for damn near 15 minutes! Doesn’t Zyon realize by now that he can’t outstrike Johnson?” King practically spits.

 

Johnson moves in closer and, with a pop of his hips, Zyon is overhead and falling fast, the victim of a railgun suplex. Zyon rolls through, minimizing the impact and the time spent on the ground, both of which are dangerous when facing a man like Johnson. Instead of turning around, Zyon springs off the second rope for the third Half Moon of the match, but falls a little short and ends up kneeing Johnson in the head. That ends up probably being better than chest-to-chest contact, as Johnson’s eyes dim for a moment, and he collapses.

 

“And what I can only guess is an accidental knee to the face puts both men down on the mat once more.”

 

Zyon hops up and goes to the top rope, then drops a leg drop! Cover!

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THR-SHOULDER UP!

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

 

And Johnson refuses to stay down, rolling onto his knees and staggering up to his feet...

 

 

 

...and into a standing headscissors.

 

“Johnson in position for the Final Hour! If he hits this, he could hit the Final Flash! If he hits that, he retains!” Pete shouts.

 

“Nope, Johnson’ll find a way. He always finds a way. Always.” King says, not so sure of himself.

 

Zyon lifts Johnson, pausing halfway, Johnson’s feet dangling as his head is positioned above the mat. If Zyon lets go, Johnson will fall straight down. Although Zyon wants to drop him on his head anyway.

 

Zyon cradles the leg, knowing that this is his last resort. If the combo should somehow fail, he’s ripe for Johnson’s picking. And Johnson picks painfully.

 

Johnson stares out at the upside-down crowd that’s simultaneously waving to Zyon and flicking him off. He looks up, technically down, and sees the canvas. He looks back out at the crowd. Shuts his eyes. And goes limp.

 

Zyon looks out at the crowd that’s simultaneously waving at him and flicking his opponent off. He looks down, technically Johnson’s up, and sees Johnson looking down at the canvas himself. Zyon looks back at the crowd at the same time Johnson does. Then drops.

 

King can only cover his eyes, not wanting to watch as Johnson’s head hits the mat, his spine compressing upon impact.

 

BANG!

 

“FINAL HOUR! Now finish the job!” shouts Pete. King retains his position, not one second taking his hands off of his eyes.

 

Renee grabs the used kendo stick on the outside and clocks Heidi with it.

 

Zyon climbs to the top rope and stands straight up. He looks down at Johnson. Looks out at the crowd. Looks back at Johnson. And in that instant, he’s in midair, flipping forward and falling fast, the fans counting the seconds to impact almost.

 

ONE

 

TWO

 

THREE!

 

 

AND THE FINAL FLASH CONNECTS!

 

DING DING DING!

 

Zyon doesn’t go for the cover, but sits up in confusion, looking around for the reason the bell rung. Somersault sentons aren’t illegal, and it’s hardcore anyway. He looks out at the crowd. The crestfallen crowd. He stands up, the club deathly silent, and looks to the outside.

 

And sees it, just moments before he hears it.

 

The ref raising Renee’s hand in victory, Heidi staring at the ceiling.

 

And it hits him. They weren’t counting moments til impact. They were counting a pinfall. A pinfall in his opponent’s favor.

 

The match is over. And so is his 33 day reign. And Johnson doesn’t even know it as “Let’s Do This Now” hits, and Funyon makes the announcement.

 

“Here is your winner, and the NEW Hardcore Champion respectively, Renee and J...J...JOHNSON!!!”

 

BOOOOOOO!!!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!”

“You don’t have to scream, King, I’m right here.”

 

“Sorry Pete, I’m just excited.”

 

“Good for you. Ladies and gentlemen, Zyon had Johnson beaten. Zyon had the match won. If this match had been one-on-one, we’d be listening to Incubus...”

 

“God forbid.” King interrupts.

 

“...instead of Korn, and Zyon would be able to continue defending his title, proud in the knowledge he had beaten Johnson one on one. But it WASN’T one on one. It was Tornado Tag. And, pardon the pun, a hooker just screwed Zyon out of the title.” Pete says, angrily.

 

“All good points, but if this match were 1-on-1, Johnson would have won with that Tiger Driver. If this match were 1-on-1, Zyon would have been put in the Frostbite, and he would have tapped out, and Johnson would have won. Don’t blame the stip, Pete. Johnson was DESTINED to become champion tonight. It was DESTINY.” King replies.

 

“Destiny or not, the Johnson era...”

 

“Dynasty.” corrects King again.

 

“...the Johnson ERA has begun once more.”

 

Zyon simply stares as road agents Austin Sly and Mohammad Koran come from the back and drag Johnson out of the ring, helping him to the back as Hardcastle putting the belt over his shoulder. Almost as if the belt were made not of gold, but of smelling salts, Johnson rejoins the land of the conscious. Looks down at his shoulder. At the belt. At HIS belt.

 

 

 

 

And grins.

 

 

FADE OUT