Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted August 30, 2005 “Man it’s been one hell of a Smarkdown” Pete say excited. “We’ve not had a match yet Pete” King shoots back at him “It’s been tremendous excitement though hasn’t it?” is the only reply he gets. “You hype whore” King says, some days his commentator partner just goes off the deep end, King has a feeling this is one of those days. Longdogger Pete shuffles through his papers trying to find something in vain “Next up we have the SWF debut of Bruce Blank, but I’ll be damned if I can find any information on him other than his stats” “What” King quipped “You gotta know what college he played football for or something, the fans want this kind of useless information” he says breaking the “sarcasm meter” in every home that’s tuned in to the show. “I got nothing” Pete had to admit. King was quick on the uptake and shot back at him with “So he’s a Blank slate huh?” “Oh very funny” – King thought so, Pete silently disagrees with him as Lynyrd Skynyrd’s genius begins to pour out through the P.A. system. ”Well everytime that I come home nobody wants to let me be” ”It seems that all the friends I got just got to come interrogate me” The curtains are pulled to the side to reveal Bruce Blank standing there, wearing a beat up cowboy hat, black jeans & snakeskin cowboy boots and a black tanktop that says “Wine ‘em, Dine ‘em 69 ‘em” King perks up when he reads the shirt “Hey that’s my philosophy, except that I usually don’t have to wine ‘em” Pete is quick on the uptake and continues the thought “Yeah and you sure never dine ‘em” ”Well, I appreciate your feelings and I don’t want to pass you by” ”But I don’t ask you about your business, don’t ask me about mine” “Yeah but I sure do sixtyn-“ “MAN LOOK AT HIS ARMS!!” Pete obviously wanted to cut King off, although he did have a point about the massive arms of Bruce Blank as well, they were… well… massive ” Well it’s true I love the money and I love my brand new car I like drinkin’ the best of whiskey and playing in a honky tonk bar” Funyon goes into his introductory spiel, you know the one blah, blah blah 295 pounds, blah, blah from Mobile Alabama blah, blah Bruce Blank – we’ve already heard it before. Bruce enters the ring, puts his cowboy hat on the ringposst and then just leans back into the corner waiting for his opponent. ” But when I come off the road, well I just got to have my time ’cause I got to find a break in this action, else I’m gonna lose my mind” Funyon puts the microphone to his mouth once more to introduce Bruce’s opponent in his debut match. ” The preacher man says it’s the end of time And the Mississippi River she’s a goin’ dry” The crowd boos as they actually know this guy and they know he’s a no-good son of a bitch, yes it’s Martin “Big Country” Hunt – As Funyon so readily tells us all. Big Country walks out as Hank Williams Jr plays, Big Country tells people they’re number one by showing them one sole solitary finger on the way to the ring. ”The interest is up and the Stock Markets down And you only get mugged If you go down town” Martin Hunt pulls out a bottle of Southern Comfort from his jacket and then points to Bruce indicating that he’s gonna have a victory drink once he’s taken care of business tonight. “It may have been a smart move for Martin not to drink until after the match” Pete points out “Last time he lost to the Crimson Skull because he got a little too… shall we say excited” “And drunk” King adds “Well yeah that too” Bruce doe not seem very impressed as he just leans back in the corner, relaxing, pacing himself not moving an inch. That is until Martin goes to put the bottle in his corner, then Bruce Blank jumps into action and clubbers Martin Hunt over the back with a double axe handle that sends the much smaller guy to the mat. *DING*DING*DING* Bruce goes from double axe handle blows to stomping away on the back of Martin Hunt as he’s driven down to the canvas just moments after the opening bell. “Bruce isn’t very subtle is he” Pete asks, rhetorically. “He doesn’t have to be, steamrollers usually aren’t” King replies not giving a rats ass about rhetoric. Martin is in the corner covering his head to shield it from the repeated blows from Bruce. The referee gets in between Bruce and Big Country making Bruce reluctantly back off. Martin’s reprieve only lasts about 7 seconds, enough time to make it back to his feet only to be greeted by a clothesline into the corner. “Man what impact” King said impressed. Bruce grabbs Big Country’s right hand and then whips him across the ring back first into the turnbuckles in the opposite corner. Bruce gets a head of steam and goes for a second running clothesline to Big Country but instead ends up eating the turnbuckles. “Hunt stumbled out of the way, excellent counter” you could tell Pete was trying to build the excitement of the match, King wasn’t buying it though “A counter? He stumbled!!” But he still gets a cover on Bruce ONE At one Bruce Blank kicks out, nay he powers out of the move by throwing the 220 pound Martin Hunt off him with force. Then he gets to his feet just in time to be hit by a running knee to the side of the head. It doesn’t knock him down but it does knock him to his knees, Big Country goes for a second running knee the impact of which sends Bruce into the corner. “Big Country is having a blast tonight!” Hunt runs to the corner and starts to nail Bruce Blank with a series of punches in the corner. After about 5 or 6 Bruce uses his massive power to just shove Martin Hunt off him and then get from his knees to his feet. Big Country isn’t one to give up as he rushes the much bigger man in the corner once more jumping up on the second rope and starts to pound away on him “Take that you trailer park trash!!” he screams at Bruce, obviously displeased with having to fight a guy who’s SOOOOO much lower than him on the scale of human evolution. Bruce doesn’t take too kindly to it as he once again reaches up, puts his hand around Big Country’s throat and just shoves back sending the Frat boy flying. Bruce is on top of Big Country pretty quickly but instead of taking the advantage he gets his jeans pulled by the alert Hunt showing his great ring presence. “That cheating bastard!! He pulled Bruce into the ropes throat first” Pete said outraged at the low down tactics of Big County, King liked it but didn’t feel the need to point it out. After all he didn’t have to comment on EVERYTHING! Martin Hunt sizes Bruce up from behind as the bigger man slowly staggers back to his feet, then Big Country runs up to him, leaps on Bruce’s back and locks in the sleeper hold “BLACK-OUT!!” Pete is caught by surprise that Hunt is going for his finisher already “It’s a smart follow up to the throat damage he just inflicted “King points out, it was a good rulebreaking tactic and as such he naturally approves. Martin Hunt rides on Bruce’s back as the big man is locked in a sleeper. For a moment he tries to reach for the ropes but then his arms stop flailing and he seems to be nearing an unconscious state “Is this it for Bruce Blank? Defeated in his debut match??” But Pete speaks too soon, the big man wasn’t going for a rope break at all, he was positioning himself to push back with all his might and drive Martin Hunt into the corner. Big Country still manages to hold onto the sleeper hold but ends up paying for it big time as Bruce falls backwards ending up crashing to the mat Hunt first with all of his massive girth on top of Big Country “Someone bring him a spatula” King quipped as Bruce Blank gets off his now dazed opponent. “Bruce’s neck was just too massive and bull like for Hunt to get the move on correct” Pete explains to the 5 people at home that didn’t already know this. Bruce shakes his head, apparently he’s had enough as he picks up Big Country and then powers him up over his head military press style. He stands there for a moment grinning as he gives the much smaller man 10 pumps in mid air King was impressed, very impressed “Look at that raw power” Then Bruce walks towards the ropes and casually just drops Martin Hunt throat first on the top rope. The fans don’t respond well to such a dickish move and the boos grow louder as Bruce grabs Big Country by the hair and drags the frat boy’s face across the top rope. BOOOOOO!! Pete is disgusted by this and doesn’t hesitate to tell everyone “I’m disgusted by this” Bruce nails Big Country with a fast and stiff clothesline that has enough impact to spin the much smaller man 360 in the air before he lands on his face. Bruce is quick to drag Martin Hunt back to his feet and then throws him into the corner. “Big Bruce is really taking him apart” Pete says as Bruce lays the back elbows in on Hunt in the ring. “Well look at him, he looks like the kind of guy that’d kick your ass rather than shake your hand” King replies “That could be a problem on Family Friendly Lockdown” is all Pete can say to that. Bruce then picks up Big Country in a body slam position and hangs him up to dry in the corner, upside down trapping a leg under the turnbuckle. The boos grow louder as Bruce lays in the kicks and punches on the now trapped Martin Hunt. “Why is he leaving the ring?” Pete is confused about why Bruce has abandoned his match and jumped to the floor. “He’s gotta pe? What do I know I ain’t his daddy” is all King could say – and he’s right, he’s not Bruce Blank’s daddy, at least not that he knows off. Bruce grabs a microphone and then gets up on the apron apparently to address the vocal crowd. “Would you PLEASE for the love of God shut the hell up!!” BOOOOOOOO “I mean I’m trying to work here! I don’t come down to where you work and shout and boo you while you suck dick! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! “WHOA!!” Pete looked a big surprised by the comment, then quickly tried to smooth things over with sponsors and anyone who’s already got the phone in hand ready to complain “Dick of course being short for Richard” was his feeble attempt at covering up. “He’s got a point Pete” King interceded, he was beginning to like Bruce’s style. Bruce is booed even louder as he starts to curse the fans out off microphone; a quick thinker backstage had cut the sound to it three and a half second after “dick”. Bruce’s distraction from the crowd has allowed Big Country to free himself and he’s quick to take advantage of the situation by drop kicking Bruce off the apron to the floor. “He had that coming” is all Pete can say, the viewers at home miss out on King rolling his eyes at that. Hunt grabs the cowboy hat from the corner, then he puts it on and starts to do a mocking Two Step in the ring thinking he’s got the match in the bag. Bruce Blank is not pleased at all as he sees the mockery in the ring. He quickly slides back in behind Hunt and then takes him down by clipping Big Country’s leg from behind “Come on Pete I know you’re dying to make a football penalty joke here” King says, knowing his partner too well Pete says nothing as King just stole his line… damn him. Bruce pulls Martin up to a seated position, then he grabs the hair with his left hand and starts to send a series of clubbing right handed blows down over Big Countrys’ neck and chest, the last one knocking Hunt back down. Bruce is on him quickly, blatantly choking him out in front of the referee. “Let go of the hold!! One!! Two!! Three!! Four!! At four Bruce lets go, then he turns towards the referee while still on his knees and starts to argue with him about interpretations of the rules. Bruce does not seem to think that a choke should be illegal while the referee tries to point out that he is wrong “Oh look at that bastard!” Pete says pissed off, “What? I don’t see anything wrong” “You don’t see him with his boot across Hunt’s throat?” Pete screams as he points towards the boot that is indeed over Big Country’s throat at the moment. “Does the referee see it” is all King says “If not, then it’s not illegal” At first the referee does not see the chokehold as Bruce’s massive body is blocking the view during their argument and by the time he moves around the big man Bruce shifts his foot and is no longer doing anything illegal. Bruce pulls Big Country to his feet, Irish whips him into the ropes On the return he catches him and throws him up in the air in a back drop motion, but instead of flipping Big Country over he just lets him drop face first, landing a thunderous fist to the gut right before Martin Hunt hits the ground. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! The crowd boos the big man on as he arrogantly pushes Martin Hunt around with his boot, flipping him over onto his back before dropping a fist on Hunt’s forehead. A leg drop quickly follows the fist and then an elbow drop right to the neck of Martin Hunt. Bruce drags Hunt back to his feet by the hair and then sets him up in a suplex position. “Look at the arrogance, he’s just holding Martin Hunt upside down in that stalled suplex position” “You timing this Pete? It’s been a good 20 seconds or so” Bruce decides that Martin Hunt has had enough punishment and turns the stalled suplex into a sit out power bomb “THE BLANK BOMB!!” Pete shouts ”THE FUCKING BOMB!!” King shouts thinking that the name had been censored before he the sheet with move names. ONE!! TWO!! THREE!!! “Bruce Blank gets a decisive victory in his first match!! After a bit of early trouble he put him away pretty easy” Bruce gets to his feet but pushes the referee away when he tries to raise Bruce’s arm in victory. Bruce grabs the cowboy hat off the canvas, dusts it off before putting it on. Then he sees the bottle of Southern Comfort in the corner. “I think Hunt may go home sober tonight Pete” Bruce figures that he’s earned a little drink so he cracks the bottle open, puts one foot on Martin Hunt’s chest just to rub it in and then begins to drink from the bottle as the crowd boos him. “Hey Bruce don’t Bogart the whole thing” King says smacking his lips, he could do with a bit of Southern right now “Too late” Pete says Bruce finishes off the entire bottle in one long gulps, then he burps loudly before dropping the empty bottle on Big Country’s chest, just a little souvenir to remember Bruce Blank by. The big man leaves the ring and starts to exit the arena, not walking totally straight “Man he’s gonna be so sick in the morning” Pete says “Yeah but he’ll have fun tonight!” is all King can say picturing just how drunk a guy can get after a whole bottle of Southern Comfort. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted August 30, 2005 In his private dressing room, a frustrated looking Landon Maddix, back from vacation in South Dakota, is sat bolt upright on his couch, staring down at the cellphone in his hand. Sighing, Maddix reaches into his pocket with his free hand and pulls out a small piece of paper, glancing down on it before punching in a number, reading off of the paper. Maddix then holds the phone to his ear, waiting patiently for an answer. ... "Yeah...it's Landon." ... "Yes, Landon Maddix. How many other Landons do you know?" ... "Look, nevermind how I got your number, that doesn't matter. Listen, I've got a proposition for you. But, I can't make it now, there's cameras hidden all over these damn arenas. I'm probably being filmed right now come to think of it." ... "You'll find out. Just get down to the hotel, room 130. Make sure you aren't followed. Once you get there, make sure there's no-one around, then give three knocks...no more, no less. I'll be waiting." ... "What are you expecting me to do, jump you when you walk in the door with a bottle of complimentary body lotion? Just get down there, okay? You can trust me. And, if you don't, you're gonna be missing out. I'll see you there." Maddix abruptly ends the secret phone call, screwing up the piece of paper in his hand and tossing it into a nearby waste paper bin. "One down..." Reaching back into his other pocket, Maddix pulls out a second scrap of paper. "...one to go." Meanwhile backstage, Ben Hardy is waiting at the interview position ready to talk to either a grizzled vet or something, of course being SWF the best laid plans of backstage interviewers and such are shot as a staggering, singing and extremely drunk Bruce Blank enters the picture HEEEEEEEY BENNY!! Ben Hardy turns pale, he’s more than a little scared of the big man and the fact that he’s now reeking of Southern Comfort doesn’t help Nor does his ear bleeding rendition of “Sweet Home Alabama” ”Shueet home Alabamaaaaaaa!! Where the skies are so blue Sweet Home” – BUUUUUUUUURP!! “Scuse me Benny” Bruce puts one of his massive arms around Ben Hardy’s neck and then waves to the camera. Bruce isn’t used to Southern Comfort, he’s a beer man usually – Which explains why he’s not quite aware of what he’s doing or saying at the moment. “Hello Ma!! Look at me I’m in SWF, then place where little boys come to play” he says while grinning like a fool “Now that’s hardly fair we have some of the best light heavyweight action in the world guys here in SWF” Ben ventures, he hopes that Bruce won’t remember it in the morning and he is probably right. Bruce just stares at Ben Hardy, then he breaks into a really weird, annoying donkey style laugh “Bwa, ha, ha, ha, eeeeeeeh-ha!!” then he slaps Ben on the back almost knocking him down. “No one told me you could be this funny!! Ain’t never met a guy under 250 worth a damn in the ring – not a one!” “You’re talking about guys like the world champion here, tag champs and” but he’s cut off before he can say anything else “Tag champions? PFFFFF!! *spits on himself a little* I could take both of those pipsqueaks out mesself… hell I could have any dope backstage just stand in my corner and I could do it” Bruce looks at Ben Hardy through half open eyes “How bout you?” “Me?” Ben looked a little nervous, he wasn’t about to “Mean” Gene a tag match – not if he could help it “Shuuuur-*burp*-ee.” Bruce was so drunk that he was guaranteed to not remember any of this in the morning. In fact he was so drunk that he instantly forgets what they were talking about and walks off. “Who wants to go for a skinny dip” is the last thing Ben Hardy hears as Bruce walks off untying his belt. “I need a drink.” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted August 30, 2005 "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm standing here backstage with the 'Executive Consultant' of TKO, Chris Card." The voice belongs to none other than Ben Hardy, who's (thankfully) rid of Bruce Blank, and with the bespectacled interviewer is the long-haired, sharp-suited Englishman in question. Card smirks at the camera as Hardy goes for what he probably thinks is a dramatic pause. "Chris-" "That's 'Mr. Card' to you, Hardy," Card corrects him instantly. Hardy sighs, wondering for the tenth time whether perservering with his SJL career would not have been a wiser move in the long run. "Mr. Card," he tries again, "after the dominating display that your team put in on Storm it is clear that they are well-versed in the art of tag team wrestling; however, with the sort of talent on display in the SWF, do you really think they can compete?" Hardy looks quizzically at Card, who just stares at him for a moment before breaking into laughter. "Talent?" Technical Perfection splutters, before composing himself slightly. "Ben, make no mistake about it, the SWF has some of the most gifted performers in the pro wrestling business today. However, with that being said, none of them can match the sheer fluidity and teamwork of TKO. Why? Because no other tag team has been together for three-and-a-half YEARS!" Card gestures lazily to one side, apparently indicating the rest of the locker room. "Let's look at tonight's opponent's, for example. JJ Johnson is the Cruiserweight Champion. He hits hard, he's quick as hell and he's no slouch on the mat. Marcus Ward? Well, he's a former Hardcore Gamer's Champion (but let's face it, who isn't?) and-" "You aren't," Hardy cuts in. "...huh?" "You aren't a former Hardcore Gamer's Champion," Hardy repeats himself. "In fact, did you even ever make it into the SWF?" There is a rather longer and slightly more genuinely dramatic pause as Hardy wishes that a) he could keep his mouth shut when he needs to and b) that he'd kept up on his wrestling training. "...as I was saying," Card continues after a few frosty seconds, "Marcus Ward is not your average, run-of-the-mill indy-fodder either. However, despite their undoubted strengths, Johnson and Ward will lose - and lose convincingly, mark you - to TKO tonight. 'Why?', you might ask?" "I would if you'd give me the chance," Hardy nods. "Because they have never teamed together before!" Card explains. "I don't care who you are or where you're from, if you don't have that sort of tag team understanding then you have no chance, no chance against TKO! In fact," Card continues, "let me list to you the pairings in the SWF that I would consider actual tag teams, as opposed to just two wrestlers thrown together." "OK," Hardy says, figuring that it's not his job to challenge egotistical managers. "First, I'd say Manson and Arch Griffon," Card states, "the trouble being, of course, that Griffon has disappeared. Secondly, Martial Law... but they're not exactly getting on all that well now, are they?" Technical Perfection takes a moment to grin at the camera screen and give a quick thumbs-up, "you flatten that bastard at Genesis Todd, and take it from me - he hits like a pussy!" "Have you ever actually been hit by-" "-and then, finally, there's the Tag Team Champions; Wild and Dangerous," Card continues, cutting off Hardy's tone of professional interest. "The thing is, Dub-Cee and Johnny D aren't really on the same page - I'm not even sure if Johnny would actually turn up to a title defence!" "He certainly hasn't managed too many other shows, that's for sure," Hardy mutters, cursing the fact that he gets paid more for interviewing champions when the absent Dangerous holds two of the titles. "Now don't get me wrong," Card says, "I think that Scott Pretzler and Jay Hawke have shown some promise at times, but let's be honest; they're singles wrestlers at heart, and always will be, just like JJ Johnson and Marcus Ward tonight. There is no-one in the SWF right now who has the team spirit of TKO, there is no-one who has the teamwork of TKO, and there's no-one who has Chris Card Enterprises at ringside except TKO. Oh, and one more thing," Card says as an afterthought. "Yes?" "They cheat like motherfuckers," the Englishman grins. "Like it or not Ben, TKO are the future of tag team wrestling in the SWF, and if you don't like it... I suggest you learn to deal with it!" With that, Card turns on his heel and walks away, leaving Hardy to turn back to the camera. "Well folks, there you have it. Will JJ Johnson and Marcus Ward be able to overcome what Chris Card at least thinks are overwhelming odds? I don't know, but I for one will be the first to laugh if they do. Back to you guys at ringside." Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted August 30, 2005 “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall!” “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “It’s amazing what will get a pop these days,” Suicide King comments. However, the cheers quickly turn to boos as ‘Between The Wheels’ by Rush starts up and the fans recognise that Marcus Ward is about to ‘grace’ them with his presence. Sure enough, The Masterplan is taking his own sweet time down the ramp and about halfway down Ward pauses to shout his favourite sentence: ‘I’M IN TOTAL CONTROL!’ Unfortunately for Ward, the production crew decide that is the perfect moment to swap his entrance music for his partner’s, and the lights start to flash red-and-white… ‘I am watching the rise and fall of my salvation…’ “Heh, not in total control of his own music, I see,” King smirks as ‘Make Me Bad’ by Korn starts up and the robed figure of JJ Johnson appears through the smoke, Cruiserweight Title strapped around his waist. Ward grimaces and quickens his pace slightly to make sure that he gets there before Johnson, who completely ignores his partner as he throws his hood back, then climbs into the ring and mounts the turnbuckles before doing his crucifix pose. ’I feel the reason as it's leaving me, no, not again It's quite deceiving as I'm feeling the flesh Make me bad…’ “Introducing first, from Bavaria,” Funyon booms, “weighing in at 249lbs, he is ‘The Mastermind’… MARRRRRR-CUSSSSSS… WAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRD!!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “And his tag team partner,” the veteran ring announcer continues, “from Windsor, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at 219lbs; he is the SWF Cruiserweight Champion, J… J… JOOOOHHHHHHNNNNNNN-SOOOONNNNNNNN!!” The tag team partners have actually deigned to notice each other and even exchange a few curt words before the music suddenly changes into the pulsing electronic bassline of ‘Tribe’ by the Mad Capsule Markets. Bizarrely enough, a few members of the crowd actually give something approaching a cheer as the lights drop and the strobes begin flashing. “And their opponents, led to the ring by Chris Card and Natasha,” Funyon declares as Chris Card Enterprises make their appearance, “from Saitama Prefecture, Japan; at a combined weight of 483lbs, they are TEEEEEEE! KAAAAAYYYYY! OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!!” It takes a few more seconds for the bass drums to start pounding, and then as the first guitar riff hits two trenchcoat-wearing shapes appear, one with long hair and one with short… *BOOOM!!* ‘TRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIBE! Why don’t you strike, justify your mind!’ TORU Takahara and KOJI Kitano are briefly silhouetted by the pyro explosion, but then waste no time in strutting down the ramp towards the ring. Each man then allows Natasha to remove their long vinyl coats before both pairs of mirrored shades are passed to Card. Finally TORU and KOJI hop up to the ring apron, then both vault over the top rope into the ring. There are no handshakes on Smarkdown (thank God, we don’t want a repeat of that fiasco), and TKO have a quick discussion in Japanese as referee Brian Warner goes over the rules. Before he has finished KOJI has moved forwards to signal that he’s starting for his team, while a pseudo-argument between Ward and Johnson ends with the former ultimate fighter stepping up to oppose him. *DING-DING-DING!* KOJI immediately raises one hand, seemingly offering a test of strength to Johnson. The Cruiserweight Champion looks up, looks back down at KOJI, looks up again with an expression of extreme thoughtfulness… then reaches up to take it. However, the moment their fingers are intertwined KOJI twists and brings the unsuspecting Johnson over backwards with a top wristlock, trying to force his shoulders to the mat. Johnson is strong as well as flexible and manages to force his way back up, then spins out of the hold and tries to Irish whip KOJI into the ropes. However, Kitano reverses the momentum and sends JJ in instead, then aims for a knife-edge chop on the return. Johnson sees it coming and rolls under, continuing on to the far ropes, then ducks under a roundhouse kick as he bounces back again! “Will one of you please hit the other guy?” King pleads. This time JJ tries to take matters into his own hands (or legs) by leaping for a hurricanrana as he rebounds for the third time, but KOJI ducks that and Johnson simply leapfrogs his opponent! Kitano instantly spins around and lashes out with a legsweep, then goes for a legdrop that the fallen Cruiserweight Champion narrowly avoids by rolling away. Johnson is quickly up to his feet and goes for a somersault senton on his opponent, but KOJI rolls away as well and both men come to their feet with their hands up in a guard position! “…what’s the point of an indy applause stance when no-one likes either of them?” Longdogger Pete asks in some confusion. KOJI Kitano apparently shares this view. *SLAP!* “OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The disrespectful strike snaps JJ Johnson’s head to one side, but the former ultimate fighter simply glares for a second before lashing out with two left-legged kicks to the ribs- *CRACK!* *CRACK!* -and then a spinning back kick to the chest that sends KOJI staggering into the TKO corner, where he lands in a seated position against the buckles! Johnson raises both arms and grins maliciously, but even the Cruiserweight Champion seems a little disconcerted when his long-haired opponent simply reaches up one hand… *smak* “Uh-oh,” King says with a grin, “it looks like Johnson just got moved up a weight class or three!” Indeed, the 260lb TORU Takahara is stepping through the ropes and looking at Johnson like he’s a piece of dog dirt in the sushi. Johnson refuses to be intimidated and defiantly does his crucifix pose… which TORU copies with crossed eyes and a gormless expression! Unsurprisingly, Johnson is less than impressed by this and strides forwards to land a stinging slap across his opponent’s cheek… *SLAP!* TORU doesn’t even bother glaring. Instead, the big man starts firing off kick after vicious kick at Johnson’s legs! *CRACK!* *CRACK!* *CRACK!* *CRACK!* Johnson has to back up, even his striking ability overwhelmed by the size and strength advantage of his opponent. TORU quickly transitions into devastating knee strikes, first burying a couple into Johnson’s ribs- ‘OOOFFF!’ -then backing off a step before charging back in with a running kneelift to the temple that sends Johnson sprawling into his corner. A faint ripple of approval runs through the crowd and, sensing this, TORU raises one arm and bellows his warcry skywards. ‘I AM TORU!’ “YEEEEAAAAHHHH!” Amazingly enough, some of the crowd are happy to see Johnson receive a possible concussion and yell their approval at the big man. However, before the former UFC fighter can get back to his feet Johnson finds the hand of Marcus Ward reaching down to tag him on the shoulder, and the Masterplan enters the ring! Ward advances purposefully, but you don’t hang around with Chris Card without Technical Perfection doing your homework for you. As soon as Marcus Ward gets within striking range TORU lets rip with kicks again and targets his opponent’s weak spot! *CRACK!* *CRACK!* Ward staggers sideways as the vicious blows jar home into his weak left knee, but TORU pursues him around the ring as the Masterplan tries to get away! *CRACK!* *CRACK!* *CRACK!* Finally Marcus Ward collapses with an agonised yell, his left leg completely taken from under him. TORU looks to drop a knee into his opponent’s forehead but Ward hastily rolls sideways, out under the bottom rope and to the floor. Unfortunately this is no refuge, and he turns back to the ring to find all 264lbs of TORU Takahara coming at him over the top rope in a plancha! *BANG!* “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” TORU is the first back to his feet (unsurprisingly), but the big man doesn’t see a new threat as JJ Johnson, who had exited the ring and was standing on the apron, now vaults athletically to the top buckle and then leaps off down to the outside to crash into Takahara with a corkscrew somersault plancha! *BANG!* “HO-LY SHIT!” “HO-LY SHIT!” The crowd are quite as happy to chant for the flattening of TORU as they were when the big man crashed onto Marcus Ward, showing a refreshing lack of preference for the distribution of violence. Ward himself has managed to get back up to his feet and drags TORU up after him, then grabs the bigger man’s wrist and Irish whips him towards the ring steps… but TORU reverses it! *CRASH!* “…and Marcus Ward goes knees-first into the steps!” Longdogger Pete shouts as The Mastermind flips over the steel structure, landing hard on his back. JJ Johnson is caught off-guard by this change in his partner’s fortunes and doesn’t react quite as quickly as he might - and this costs him, as KOJI Kitano suddenly comes flying over the ropes with a corkscrew tope! “And this, Dogger, is what tag team wrestling is all about,” Suicide King tells his commentary partner as Brian Warner yells at TKO to stop playing around on the outside. “The knowledge of where your partner is at all times, and when to intervene?” LDP asks. “No,” King chides him, “ knowing how to distract the referee so your manager can get some cheap shots in!” And sure enough, as TORU and KOJI protest to Brian Warner that they’re not really stepping on Johnson’s throat, Chris Card and Natasha are laying in the boots on the prone Marcus Ward! Several nearby fans actually cheer the dastardly duo on, as Card’s wrestling knowledge allows him to target pressure points and vulnerable areas, while Natasha… well, she’s wearing heels. You get the picture. After about ten seconds Card decides they’ve pushed their luck long enough and rolls Ward back into the ring, which is the cue for TORU to re-enter the squared circle as well. “So King,” Longdogger says in the tone of someone who doesn’t really want to know the answer, “you seem to be on the side of TKO, despite the fact that some of the fans are as well?” “Since when has it mattered to me what these morons think?” King demands. “I like TKO because they cheat, which is more than you can say for Johnson and Ward!” Marcus Ward is still sore from the mugging on the outside, so he doesn’t resist much as TORU hauls him up to his feet and then drives one, two, three powerful knee strikes into the Mastermind’s ribs. Takahara then scoops Ward up in a sidewalk slam position before dropping to one knee and bending his opponent’s spine over it with a pendulum backbreaker as Card applauds from the floor. Almost before Marcus Ward has stopped spasming TORU hauls him back up, then lifts the man from Cincinatti up in a fireman’s carry. Takahara keeps him there for a second, then pushes Ward up into the air and drops him down over one knee again with a gutbuster! “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” A few more fans have joined in the chanting this time and TORU pauses to flip them the bird - which they all respond to in kind, with smiles on their faces - then reaches over to tag in KOJI. Takahara turns around straight after and flips the bird at JJ Johnson, goading the former ultimate fighter into the ring… straight into Brian Warner, who cuts him off. While he’s tied up with Warner TKO take the chance to unload kick after kick on the trapped Marcus Ward! “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” The fans are actually chanting in time with the kicks, but all good things must come to an end as JJ finally realises that his attempted intervention is counter-productive and steps back through the ropes. This frees Brian Warner up to work out what’s going on and demand TORU follows Johnson’s example, which the big man does with surprisingly good grace. The reason for this becomes clear as KOJI charges across the ring with no warning, nailing the surprised JJ Johnson with a running forearm that knocks the Canadian the apron, and when Warner turns to follow and chastise the man from Japan, his partner quickly wraps the tag rope around Marcus Ward’s throat! “Well Drain-Clogger, this is thoroughly illegal but the fans seem to like it,” Suicide King says in some amusement, “so is it still wrong? Is it right to cheat as long as the people are behind you?” “No, it’s never right to cheat,” Pete says stoutly, “the rules are there for a reason!” “Yes, to limit small-minded people and leave the true stars of the business unfettered to do what they do best,” King smirks. “Cheat.” Brian Warner has caught sight of TORU’s contribution to Marcus Ward’s dizziness and hurries over to stop it, but before the referee can do more than protest KOJI has brushed him aside and started to fire off kicks into the Mastermind’s ribs. *CRACK!* *CRACK!* *CRACK!* Three kicks drive what little breath remained from Marcus Ward’s lungs before KOJI steps up and vaults off the second rope, then swings his right foot around- *KER-RRACK!* -and nails Ward in the head with a gamengiri! The Mastermind staggers forward and KOJI grabs his head to snapmare him over, then instantly fires a basement dropkick into the back of his opponent’s neck. Ward collapses onto his side, and KOJI walks around to where his opponent can see him before very deliberately flipping the double bird! “YEEEAAAAHHH!” Kitano grabs Ward again before hauling the heavier man to his feet, then reaches out and tags TORU before taking a step back and hooking Ward for a vertical suplex. It takes a bit of effort to get Ward’s low centre of gravity off the ground, but KOJI manages to get his opponent vertical… then kicks his legs out and drops straight down with a brainbuster! *BANG!* “Look out below!” Longdogger Pete shouts, and with good reason as TORU, now the legal man, has taken it upon himself to go to the top rope and he comes off with a Frog Splash to the prostrate Ward! *WHAM!* Brian Warner instantly drops to the mat to make the count as TORU stays atop his opponent for the pin… ONE! TWO!! …but Marcus Ward is a tough man, and he kicks out just after the count of two. TORU doesn’t seem overly bothered by this and drags Ward up into a standing headscissors, still taking care not to move his opponent out of the TKO half of the ring, then underhooks each arm before wrenching Marcus Ward up and dropping him over one knee in another devastating backbreaker! “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” TORU doesn’t cover this time, instead opting to reach out and tag in KOJI Kitano. Once the smaller man is legal TORU brings Ward back to his feet and gutwrenches his opponent up, then drops him over his knee in another gutbuster. However, instead of pushing Ward off TORU holds him in place as KOJI climbs to the top rope… *SLAP!* …then spanks his opponent for good measure! Moments later, Kitano comes off the top with a diving kneedrop that connects with the back of Ward’s skull! “Disrespect and pain,” King laughs, “now do you see why I love these guys?” With Marcus Ward semi-conscious and possibly quite embarrassed, TKO rise to their feet. They turn towards the seething JJ Johnson on the apron… and both men flip him the double middle-fingered salute! “YEEEEEEAAAAHHHHHHHH!” JJ Johnson isn’t going to stand for that and the Canadian vaults athletically over the top rope to make a beeline for his opponents, but yet again Brian Warner gets in his way. It takes everything the referee has to restrain the hot-headed former ultimate fighter, but this just plays into TKO’s hands as both members quickly grab Ward and lift him up, then place the Mastermind in a seated position on the top buckle in their corner. They then beckon to their managers… but it is Natasha, not Chris Card, who makes her way under the bottom rope! “I don’t like the look of this,” Longdogger Pete says simply. “I don’t like this at all.” JJ Johnson doesn’t either, but it simply doesn’t seem in the Silent Violence’s gameplan to back off and let Warner see what’s going on. Instead he continues trying to fight past the referee and Natasha lines up on Marcus Ward. It takes a considerable amount of practice to perform a superkick in high heels… *CHING!!* “OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhh…” “STERILISER!” Pete bellows as the Goth Bitch’s foot finds its home in Marcus Ward’s crotch. TKO, the gentlemen that they are, catch Natasha and prevent her from falling over in the rather unstable aftermath of the move, while Marcus Ward tumbles slowly off the top rope in his own private world of hurt. JJ Johnson concedes defeat and retreats reluctantly to his corner, finally allowing Brian Warner to turn around only to find TKO looking as innocent as they can when their opponent is in a foetal position and clutching his groin. Needless to say, they deny everything. “Come on Warner, how can you believe them?” Pete asks, but King has his answer. “He doesn’t have to believe them, you Miami Moron,” the Gambling Man snorts, “he can’t call it if he doesn’t see it!” As if to appease the highly suspicious official, KOJI simply drags Ward away from the ropes and places him in a completely legal, non-controversial grounded headscissors. Warner can do nothing but glower, and this is the point at which TORU flips the bird at his back as he exits the ring. Meanwhile KOJI squeezes as hard as he can with his legs, but despite the growing shade of purple in Ward’s forehead it all seems a bit… slow. Accordingly, TORU exchanges a couple of words with Chris Card and Technical Perfection heads around the ring to start yelling at JJ Johnson. Johnson knows a distraction when he sees one and doesn’t leave the apron, but at the same time he remembers Card from Revolution Zero and knows better than to take his eyes off the cunning Englishman. Brian Warner also sees and hears Card’s actions, but he isn’t quite as clued in as Johnson and he heads over to banish Card back to the TKO corner… allowing TORU to clap his hands together to make a tag sound and hurry into the ring to take over from KOJI without the latter having to release his controlling hold on Ward. “Complete and utter disregard for the rules…” Pete mutters. “I know,” King grins, “great, isn’t it?” TORU picks Marcus Ward up and gets him into a fallaway slam position, perhaps looking for the Blockbuster Slam that he used against Ordonez and Brody… but on this occasion the big man is cut off at the pass as JJ Johnson vaults to the top rope and comes off with a dropkick that catches his own partner Marcus Ward in the back and sends TORU tumbling backwards with the Mastermind on top of him into a pin! ONE! TW- -TORU kicks out, and the crowd are, if anything, more behind the Japanese team than ever! “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” The slightly startled TORU gets back to his feet, but Marcus Ward has forced his way up as well and greets his opponent with a head BUTT- *CRUNCH!* -then with the strength of desperation he picks Takahara up and drives him down with a spinebuster! *WHAM!* “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Marcus Ward somehow finds the strength to get back to his feet and stagger to his corner, where he tags the outreached hand of JJ Johnson. The former UFC fighter immediately vaults to the top rope again, but instead of a dropkick he sails into the air to land a devastating diving headbutt on TORU! *BANG!* Johnson pops back to his feet straight away and charges across the ring, returning the favour on KOJI from earlier by knocking his Japanese opponent off the ring apron! TORU has got to his feet behind Johnson, but the Canadian simply latches onto his larger opponent and - with a bit of effort - bridges back to drop TORU on his head with the UDV! *BANG!* Johnson immediately slides into the cover… ONE! TWO!! …but TORU kicks out! This doesn’t worry the Canadian all the much though, as he simply pops back up to his feet and grabs TORU’s legs before crossing them and twisting his opponent over… “Sharpshooter!” Pete yells. “The Sharpshooter is locked in, and TORU needs to find the ropes!” The Sharpshooter is a devastating hold indeed - especially when applied by a Canadian - but TORU’s upper body strength is considerable, and the big man from Saitama Prefecture is able to start dragging himself across the mat despite Johnson’s best efforts. “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” The ropes are two feet away… …one foot away… …six inches away… …and he makes them! “YEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!” Johnson curses as loudly as he can - not very - and releases his grip, then tries to grab TORU’s head. Unfortunately for him the big man has reacted first and jabs two fingers up into the Canadian’s eyes, bringing a sharp warning from Brian Warner but a blessed relief from JJ’s offence. TORU takes this chance to get back to a vertical base and drives his knee into Johnson’s gut, then hauls the breathless Canadian into a vertical headscissors, underhooks both arms, wrenches him upwards- *CRACK!* -and gets kicked in the face as Johnson counters the Tiger Driver! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Johnson’s feet touch the mat again at TORU stops lifting, and the wily UFC man slips out of the double underhook before leaping into the air and cracking his opponent with an enzuigiri! KOJI has seen enough and enters the ring (ducking under Warner’s restraining arm), but Johnson is ready for him and drop toeholds the onrushing Japanese wrestler down, then mounts his back and begins firing punches into the back of his skull! “Foul!” King shouts, “this isn’t PRIDE!” Brian Warner has to literally pull Johnson off KOJI, but Silent Violence isn’t done as he drags Kitano into a standing headscissors of his own before underhooking the arms just like TORU tried on him. Unfortunately for Johnson, TORU has regained his feet now and he rushes forwards, then vaults off KOJI’S back before whipping his foot around with a variation on a Shining Enzuigiri! “YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “This is what makes TKO so difficult to beat,” Longdogger Pete exclaims, “they have a history of working together longer than any SWF team except perhaps Wild and Dangerous! They always know where the other man is, and what they need to do!” Right now, TORU intends to cover… ONE! TWO!! …but Johnson kicks out, still being relatively fresh. TORU isn’t very happy about that, so he drags the Canadian up before dropping him over one knee with a pendulum backbreaker, then heads for the turnbuckles. The big man heads up top before coming off with the devastating kneedrop known as the TORU Hammer… *BANG!* but Johnson dodges! TORU pops back up to his feet, albeit favouring one leg, but Silent Violence quickly grabs his right arm and hauls him down into a Fujiwara armbar. Moments later, despite Chris Card’s screamed warnings from the floor, Johnson transitions into the deadly Frostbite! “The Frostbite’s locked, and TORU’s feeling it!” LDP yells. “Everyone taps to this!” *THUMP!* “…unless they have a partner to kick Johnson in the head,” the Miami Menace concedes a moment later as KOJI does just that. Brian Warner quickly banishes KOJI back to the ring apron, but as his back is turned… *CHING!* “Low blow from TORU!” Pete bellows in rage. Takahara doesn’t even try to follow up on Johnson, instead grabbing the Canadian and hurling him bodily over the top rope to the floor. KOJI is still arguing with Warner, so TORU thinks quickly. *smak* “Huh?” Pete says in confusion as the big man slaps his hands together, “what did that do?” The answer quickly becomes apparent as TORU lunges for Marcus Ward and drags the battered Mastermind into the ring, then places himself in a side headlock! Brian Warner turns around, sees that the switch has been made… and indicates that he heard the tag, making it legal! “TORU has brought Warner back into the match, when Johnson would never have tagged him back in!” King laughs. “Why bother fighting a fresh man if you can get the old one in?” Ward tries to clamp down on the headlock that he has found himself applying, but it was all a ruse to fool Warner and once he is sure the ref has acknowledged the tag TORU bridges backwards, dropping the Mastermind down with a back suplex. The big man then gets to his feet… and tap his head knowingly. “T!K!O!” “T!K!O!” TORU hauls Marcus Ward to his feet again, the Japanese team definitely back on top in the match now Johnson has been banished to the outside. Takahara drives a knee into Ward’s gut, then tags in KOJI who climbs to the top rope before coming off to hit a diving swinging neckbreaker on the doubled-over Ward! KOJI then makes the cover… ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRR- -but Ward kicks out! JJ Johnson has recovered from his unexpected trip and tries to get back into the ring, but Warner cuts him off yet again, yelling that he heard the tag and that Ward is now the legal man. Johnson is confused but he can do nothing as TORU double-underhooks Ward with KOJI nearby, looking for the Tiger Explosion… but with one final effort, Ward backdrops his way out and sends TORU crashing into KOJI! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Ward collapses over the second rope, all his energy apparently sapped… and as Warner still argues with JJ Johnson, Chris Card produces the Aerosol Equaliser and sends a jet of mace directly into Marcus Ward’s eyes! “AAAARRRGGGGGHHHHH!” The Mastermind rolls backwards, clawing at his face, and this time TORU doesn’t make any mistakes. The double-underhook is applied and Marcus Ward rises up… …KOJI puts his hands on Ward’s shoulders to drive him down… *BANG!* …and as TORU holds for the pin, KOJI races across the ring to ensnare Johnson with a satellite headscissors and send him to the outside, freeing Warner up to count the pin! ONE! TWO!! THHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! *DING-DING-DING!* “Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon booms over ‘Tribe’, “the winners of the match… T!K!O!!” Brian Warner raises TORU’s and KOJI’s hands in victory, but they snatch their arms away and wait for Natasha to enter the ring in order for the Goth Bitch to do it instead. Meanwhile, Chris Card simply smirks at JJ Johnson who glares at the group from outside the ring. “Dogger, this was a triumph for true tag team wrestling,” Suicide King informs his commentary partner. “A triumph for two- no, three- no, four no-good cheating slimeballs, you mean!” LDP responds. “So judgemental,” King tuts. “Let’s take a commercial break before you blow a gasket.” FADE OUT Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted August 30, 2005 "Well, bid'ness is about to pick up, King! We've got a match between one of the SWF's hottest new stars, The Crimson Skull, and Manson!" Pete shills, "with these two men in the ring, it's going to be over five hundred pounds worth of mankind's roughest going at it!" "Enough of your strange sexual fantasies... I..." King yawns. "I don't even have the energy to properly insult you." "What's wrong with you? You were fine last match." "I had a turkey dinner during the break." King says approvingly. "Oh... all they brought me was a bag of chips." "Actually, that's what I told them to give you off of my dinner. The SWF doesn't feed it's lower stars." *Bang!* An eruption of sparks flies up from the front of the entrance stage. Out from behind the curtain runs out six women wearing gold, glittering shorts and tank tops. "Well, enough of this nonsense. It looks like our match is about to get underway!" Everybody dance now!!! They begin to freestyle dance, bump and grind, and everything else you can think of as “Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now!)” by C & C Music Factory blares over the P.A. system. The Crimson Skull emerges from the back, flanked by his assistant Heff, and walks through the madness on his way down towards the ring. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall." Funyon booms out over the audience, "Introducing first, weighing in at two hundred and eighty-five pounds... from parts unknown, now residing in Kiev, Ukraine... he is... The Crimson Skull!" The Crimson Skull climbs the rings steps and enters into the ring through the ropes. His cape flows behind him with every move he makes. He stands near a corner turnbuckle and strikes an epic pose while waiting on Martin Hunt. Heff stands on the outside, awaiting Skull's beckon call. The music slowly dies down (along with the lights) and is replaced by Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer" hits, complete with multi colored strobes flashing in time with the music. The fans rise to their feet, the buzz in the arena reaching a fever pitch, and Manson emerges moments later, throwing up the horns to a massive round of cheers. He heads straight down to the ring, focused on the task at hand. After rolling in under the bottom rope, he pops up, and goes to his corner. "... and his opponent," Funyon continues, "weighing in at two hundred and forty-five pounds... from Denver, Colorado... he is Manson!" Funyon steps out of the ring and is replaced by an unfamiliar referee. Huh... he must be new. Anyways... the bell rings shortly thereafter, and we have ourselves a match! *Ding ding ding.* Manson and The Crimson Skull circle each other, neither man wanting to make the first move. A look of determination is across Manson's face, while Skull has an evil smirk plastered across his own. "Manson... it's been a long time since you've left the brotherhood." "I've put those days behind me, Skull. I fight for myself now." "Are you still trying to perfect Mansonosity?" "I refuse to use it... I fight like a mortal." "That's too bad..." *BAM!* Just then, The Crimson Skull charges in and lays into Manson with an uppercut that sends him flying up off of his feet. He lands awkwardly with a thud as he crashes to the canvas. The fans on hand all stand up and look on at the scene with mouths agape. "What a blow from The Crimson Skull! It looks like Manson just got..." Longdogger is interrupted. "KNOCKED THE FUCK OUT!!!" King screeches. "Wait... what's this? Manson is getting back up!!" Slowly, but steadily, Manson makes it to his feet. A trickle of blood comes out of the corner of his mouth from where he probably bit his lip. Manson moves his hand up to touch his cheek, then pulls his hand back to realize that he's bleeding. He smiles a little, much to the chagrin of The Crimson Skull, who winds back and sends a punch heading straight towards the cheek of Manson... who ducks it! Manson goes underneath his arm and pops up behind him before wrapping his arms around the torso of The Crimson Skull and brings him up and over with a German Suplex! The Crimson Skull rolls through it, though, and manages to stagger back up to his feet! Panting a little, Manson extends his hand out to The Crimson Skull... and tells him to bring it! Skull smirks again, knowing better than to charge in. He makes a slow march towards his competitor... "You still have the fighting spirit inside of you, Manson," Skull praises his competitor. "Come fight alongside Heff and I!" "No! I'm my own man now... and Heff scares me a little." *WAM!* Skull sends another right hand flying towards the cheek of Manson... but this time it connects! Manson shakes it off and sends a quick knee into the gut of The Crimson Skull, who gets the air knocked out of him and bows down to one knee. Manson lays him out though when he clinches his arms together and delivers a double axe handle to the back of Skull! But Skull is quickly back up to his knees, and sweeps Manson's feet out from under him, causing the six foot, two hundred and forty-five pound man to come crashing down on his back! The Crimson Skull pounces on him, sending a barrage of right hands to his face! One, two, three, four, five, six... Manson powers out! Somehow conjuring up the strength to roll the big man off of him, and reverses positions with him! Now Manson is on top, raining down the right hands! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight... "It looks like The Crimson Skull is going to have to use his head to get out of this one, King." The Crimson Skull must've heard Pete, because that's just what he does! He headbutts Manson, breaking up the assault and scrambling his senses. Manson rolls back, and grabs his head in pain and trying to realign the three Crimson Skulls back into one. "You always were hard headed, Skull... but this time it played to your advantage." "You're weaker than I'd remembered, Manson. This is like taking candy from a baby... or very small woman. Hah!" Manson inhales... and spits right into Skull's face! This infuriates the big man... his eyes widen and glare down at Manson... his breathing picks up... if he was any more steamed, his hair might catch fire! The Crimson Skull reaches down with his hulking hand and grabs Manson by the neck before lifting him up into the air in one fluid movement, as if it took nothing at all! "Oh my God!" squeals Pete. "The Crimson Skull just picked Manson up as if he were a small child! That's a two hundred and forty five pound man in there!" "I've seen better," King quips. Manson tries to break the grip around his neck, prying away at the enraged supervillains hands, but it's of no use! He tries to kick his way out, but somehow it's just out of reach. The referee steps in for the first time in the night and tries to talk Skull into releasing his hold, but it's of no use! Manson squirms harder as he starts to run out of breath... inching closer to his own demise... *Zap.* "Ahhh!" *Gasp.* *Sizzle...* "A beam of light just shot out of Manson's eyes, narrowly avoided The Crimson Skull, and literally melted the head right off of that referee!" Pete announces in shocked horror. "I think I'm going to be sick." "Don't be a pussy, Pete." King reassures his partner, "I've seen worse." Skull drops his opponent down to the mat, and turns to look at the damage that has been done. Manson breaths heavily, gasping for every breath that he can get. With one arm holding his stomach, he pushes himself up to his knees and surveys the damage as well. The Crimson Skull turns back with a maniacal grin upon his face. "That's the Manson I remembered. Now will you join me?" "N... N... Never! You... you... this is your fault! You made me kill him!" "I did no such thing, my friend... I simply provoked you. And don't act like this is the first human life you've taken!" "RAAAHHHHHH!!!" Manson jumps to his feet and charges Skull, who is thrown completely off guard and gets a shoulder buried into his gut for it! Manson keeps pushing and manages to take Skull back to the ropes. The supervillain tries to fight his way out with a few clubbing blows to Manson's back, but it's clear that they have no effect on him what-so-ever! Manson reels back, and drives his shoulder into his opponent's stomach once again... and again... and again! Skull starts to show signs of weakness, as the blows to Manson's back slow, and eventually stop! Manson stands up and stretches back The Crimson Skull against the ropes... but it's a trick! Skull nails Manson with another thunderous uppercut that sends him flying into the air! The Raging Bull is almost turned inside out as he flies backwards... but somehow lands on his hands and rolls back up to his feet. His jaw aching, Manson reaches up and rubs it... but a smile creeps across his face to show that he has not been discouraged. "What a display of grace! If you're watching this at home, I hope you set the VCR because you may never see anything like this again!" "VCR?" King scoffs. "It's all about the TiVo these days, Pete." Manson lurches back and bounces off the ring ropes before charging in towards The Crimson Skull! Skull bends down thinking that he'll capitalize on a strange bit of strategy by his opponent, but Manson leaps up and delivers a dropkick that almost shoves Skull's head back down into his neck! Obviously dazed... Skull falls back into the ropes, bounces back up, and begins to stumble a bit around the ring. Manson sees this as an opportunity and... goes to the turnbuckles? "Manson's going to climb to the top!" Pete stops for a second, "wait... has he ever done this?" The Raging Bull perches himself on the top turnbuckle and waits... and watches... and when The Crimson Skull turns to face him, leaps! "Manson flies!" Pete screeches. The Crimson Skull catches him on his shoulders, rotates, and sits out! Both men slam down in the middle of the ring, and it gives under the weight! First, a slight crack, and then an actual dent forms in the middle of the squared circle! Manson lays on his back, and Skull collapses down on top of him! "Manson flies!" King mocks his partner, "... right into a sit-out powerbomb!" "I don't know if they're okay in there, King. I mean, just look at the carnage, King... King... King?!" ..... "King! Wake up!" Pete yells at his announcing partner. "I can't believe you fell asleep during a match! You left me out here to call this thing all by myself! Not that I'm complaining, of course..." "Wait, what? What just happened?" "You missed the match! You were complaining about being tired, and just put your head down and took a nap. The Crimson Skull just pinned Manson after a legdrop!" "Really? Wow... how lame..." King grins. "It happened much better in my head." "Yeah yeah..." Pete realizes what his partner just said. "Wait, what?" To Be... Continued... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted August 30, 2005 Back to Landon Maddix's dressing room we go, Maddix on his cellphone and impatiently waiting for whomever he's trying to call to pick up. With no answer apparantly, fingers tapping in his impatience, a sigh escapes Maddix. Still no answer. Eventually, Landon lights up a little though, as apparantly his call has gone through to voice mail. "Hi, it's Landon Maddix. Probably not the person you were expecting, I know. You weren't picking up...and, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. To be honest, I was surprised you even had a phone, for obvious reasons. Anyway, I suck at these voicemail things, so I'm going to get to the point. I've got a proposition to make to you. Obviously, I'm not going to make it here. Cameras and stuff...so, I want you to come down to the hotel, Room 130. Give it about an hour and I'll be down there waiting for you. Make sure you're not followed. Three knocks, no more, no less. This is kinda out of the blue and I know you're not going to trust me easily, what with the history we kinda have, one way or another. But, just get down there and I promise, you won't regret it. See you down there." Maddix ends the call again, looking at his cellphone for a moment before tucking it into his back pocket. Into the trash goes the second piece of paper, before Maddix stands up, grabbing his bags and presumably heading back to the hotel room. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted August 30, 2005 As we return from commercial break, the camera from the Spirit of Akron gets an aerial shot of the huge Jacobs Field crowd. Pete: “What a tremendous Cleveland crowd on hand here tonight.” King: “If the Indians drew like this, they might actually have the money to get a true ace.” We then cut to the broadcast team at their ringside location. Pete: “Be that as it may, we’re getting ready for one of our huge feature matches this week. It will be Jay Hawke taking on Zyon in a preview of Genesis VI.” King: “Well, we’re assuming it’s a preview of Genesis VI, but remember the stipulation of this match. Zyon has to beat Jay Hawke, or he forfeits his title shot.” Pete: “Of all the nerve. Jay Hawke actually wanted to put his title shot on the line before we ever got to the pay-per-view.” King: “Hey, Zyon could have said no. He let the arrogance of youth get in the way, and now he’s going to be embarrassed!” Pete: “And we’re ready for action. Let’s go to Funyon for the introductions.” Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following non-title contest is scheduled for one fall with a 20-minute time limit.” The familiar strains of Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly” come on the PA, but this crowd gives an unusual reaction to the music. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Funyon: “Introducing first … from the Hall of Fame City of Cleveland, Ohio …” YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Funyon: “…and weighing in at 215 pounds … he is the current SWF International Champion … ‘The Dean of Professional Wrestling’ … JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWWWWKE!” Jay Hawke continues to make his way to the ring, and he smiles in spite of himself as he soaks in the unfamiliar chant: “JAY HAWKE! JAY HAWKE! JAY HAWKE!” “Unbelievable,” says Pete. “I didn’t think Jay Hawke would even get this type of reaction in his hometown.” “Well,” says King, “most of the people hear only root for the Cleveland Browns. At least they know to root for a winner when they see it.” As Jay Hawke enters the ring and removes his robe, the music fades out. After a brief five-second delay, the words “I’m Born”, “I’m Alive”, and “I Breathe” alternate on the Smarktron. “Vitamin” by Incubus kicks in as Zyon walks on to the ramp looking over the arena at the fans who are looking at him. “And his opponent … from Elkhart, Indiana … weighing in at an even 200 pounds … he is the number one contender to the SWF International Championship … ‘The Unique Youth’ … ZYYYYYYYYYYYYYYON!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Zyon briefly looks out at the crowd in confusion before he starts walking down the aisle. He does have some fans in attendance, as a solid but not quite eardrum-breaking chant does ring out: “ZY-ON! ZY-ON! ZY-ON!” As the song picks up Zyon runs down to the ring and leaps on to the ropes. He grabs the top rope and with a little hop pulls himself over the ropes performing a flip in an attempt to “pop” the crowd a little. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” And that flip is just the advantage Jay Hawke needs. As Zyon turns to acknowledge the portion of the crowd that is cheering him, Jay Hawke attacks from behind, catching Zyon in the back with a hard forearm. He catches Zyon with a couple more shots to the back as referee Nick Soapdish tries in vain to separate them. He grabs Hawke’s arm, which enables Zyon to catch Hawke with a couple of forearms to stagger him backwards. Zyon takes advantage of the limited space between them to dropkick Jay Hawke, the force of which sends the International Champion rolling to the floor. Hawke lands on his feet, and immediately starts to reenter the ring, but a swarm of security guards make their way to ringside and fill the ring, getting in between the foes. *DING DING DING!* “We have a bell,” says Pete, “but all hell has broken loose!” *DING DING DING!* “And we have another bell,” states Suicide King, Master of the Obvious. “What the hell is going on here?” As security tries to keep the men separated, Tom Flesher is on his way to the ring, arguing with a couple of older gentlemen wearing suits. Meanwhile, the two competitors continue to try to get to each other through a wall of security. “LET’S GO JAY HAWKE! LET’S GO ZY-ON! LET’S GO JAY HAWKE! LET’S GO ZY-ON! LET’S GO JAY HAWKE! LET’S GO ZY-ON!” “And now we’ve got Tom Flesher coming down here,” says Pete, “and I know this was one of the matches he was looking most forward to seeing tonight.” “And it was probably the one match these fans here at Jacobs Field wanted to see as well,” adds King. “And yet we’ve got about 20 men trying to keep these guys apart. Can we get a ruling?” Tom Flesher continues his argument, but he’s apparently getting nowhere. He drops his head as if in defeat, then calls Funyon over. As one of the men in suits points at Hawke and yells “Get him out of here,” Funyon listens intently to Flesher. He then looks at Flesher in confusion, saying “Are you sure” as we hear Flesher say “I have no choice.” Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen … I have just been informed by Tom Flesher that, according to the Ohio Athletic Commission’s rules against attacking an opponent before the bell, Jay Hawke has been disqualified!” “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” King: “What the hell? What does this look like, family-friendly Lockdown?” Three members of security begin dragging Jay Hawke from the ring as Zyon breaks free and yells “Come on!” Funyon: “Replacing Jay Hawke in this contest … from Boone, North Carolina … weighing in at 220 pounds … Martin ‘Big Country’ Hunt!” BOOO! The crowd is visibly pissed as Funyon, at the begrudging behest of Tom Flesher, announces the replacement match. “Longboringannouncer Pete I would be just as mad, but hey this replacement match could be a hidden classic…” And to kill the mood once and for all “A country boy can survive” plays over the arena causing many to moan in anguish. The possibly drunken red neck steps through the curtain and actually jogs to the ring. “Well for storyline purposes Zyon’s debut victory was over Martin Hunt. It could be payback time for the college student.” Pete says. “Wha? Did you seriously just try to make sense of this match?” King is astonished. Hunt rolls into the ring and goes right for Zyon with a clothesline as the bell rings! The youth though easily ducks the clothesline. The hillbilly jobber stumbles forward before turning around into the chest pounding SNAP dropkick!! YEAH! Some in the crowd cheer while others are too aggravated to cheer on one of the men they love the most. The Unique Youth lies on the canvas for a moment before nipping up energetically to the sound of apathy. The youngster can simply shrug his shoulders as Jay Hawke is forced to watch from behind a wall of security. Back on the canvas Hunt clutches his chest as he feels the alcohol isn’t setting to well in his stomach. Zyon though could care less as tonight was his night to shut Hawke up once and for all, but instead he has to put down the cattle. The former hardcore champ lifts Hunt up before the shocking sound of… “We Want Hawke!” echoes. Zyon nods his head in agreement giving Hunt enough time to attempts a sloppy beer smelling uppercut…that connects!!! “That should be Hawke jacking the monkeys jaw.” King claims. “I kind of agree. Hell, this is Jay Hawke’s hometown crowd! Zyon had his share of fans when he came out here, but the crowd is ignoring the action just to show how much they want to see the match.” Pete points out. Zyon staggers backward holding his jaw while Hunt charges forward before getting stunned by a forearm strike. Martin currently stunned can only watch as Zyon springboards off the middle rope from inside the ring and performs a 180 degree turn before wrapping his arm around the head of Hunt and driving him to the canvas with a vicious Bring Me Down DDT!! Zyon slowly evolved into a sitting position as he stares at his TRUE opponent up the entrance ramp. The youth can only snicker as he reaches his feet and again shrugs his shoulders before heading for the turnbuckle and climbing it!! YEAHHHH! “Does he really have to do this?” “Yes he does. The rookie is sending a message.” The youth quickly flies off the turnbuckle before gracefully killing Hunt dead with the FINAL FLASH!!!! Which is of course followed by the cover… ONE TWO THREE!!!!! The referee raises the youth’s hand, but the victory means nothing to Zyon… “The time of the match: 1 minute 17 seconds. The winner, ZYYYON!” Even Funyon announced his name with apathy. Zyon with stinging eyes of a lion stares the International champ down as the crowd continues to chant: “WE WANT HAWKE! WE WANT HAWKE! WE WANT HAWKE!” “I want Hawke, too!” shouts King. “Let’s get to the scheduled match already!” Jay Hawke makes a move toward the ring, but is quickly grabbed by security. Zyon then makes his move, sliding underneath the bottom rope and charging toward the surrounded International Champion. Several members of security are quickly there to keep Zyon as close to the ring as possible as both men try in vain to get to the other one. “It’s complete chaos out here!” screams Pete. “They might end up holding up the rest of the show at this rate!” “They should hold up the rest of the show,” King claims. “This was Hawke’s chance to wrestle in front of the hometown crowd, and he had it taken away from him by some guy in a suit who probably thinks the main event is Lou Thesz vs. Whipper Billy Watson!” “Well, for right now, we’re going to try to get things sorted out, and when we return, I understand Ben Hardy is going to try to get Jay Hawke’s reaction to all this! Don’t go away!” Security continues to keep both men separated, and the crowd returns to their dueling chants… “JAY HAWKE! ZY-ON! JAY HAWKE! ZY-ON! JAY HAWKE! ZY-ON!” …as we fade to commercial. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted August 30, 2005 The pull-apart in the arena has finally been broken up during the break, but the live crowd is still chanting what they’ve been chanting for most of the commercial break: “LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT!” Zyon has been brought backstage. As Tom Flesher continues arguing with an athletic commissioner, Ben Hardy is in the ring, standing next to a visibly angry Jay Hawke, who has his hands on his hips as he looks up at the ceiling in disgust. Hardy: “I’m standing back here with Jay Hawke after a controversial finish to this match. Tell me, Jay, why didn’t this match go on?” Before Hawke can speak, the fans begin cheering again: “JAY HAWKE! JAY HAWKE! JAY HAWKE!” Hawke: “Plain and simply put, this match didn’t go on because that guy standing there in his cheap polyester suit thinks he knows wrestling better than Tom Flesher and yours truly put together!” Tom Flesher gets a laugh in as the athletic commissioner, obviously pissed off at the cheap shot from Hawke, finally storms off toward the visitors dugout. Hawke: “I came here tonight to settle an issue once and for all, and not only was that issue not settled, but I lost my chance to compete in front of my hometown fans for the first time in over three years!” “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Hawke: “So quite simply, this sucks. The Ohio Athletic Commission knows I would have ended up hurting Zyon had the match started as normal, so they found a way to stop the match before it ever started!” Hardy: “You were disqualified, and by the match stipulation, Zyon keeps his title shot!” Hawke: “How was I disqualified? The match hadn’t even started yet!” Hardy: “That’s apparently a rule the Ohio Athletic Commission recently imposed.” Hawke: “Maybe the athletic commission should just invest in a bell that rings before the match starts for a change. But OK, Zyon gets credit for a win without even competing against me? Fine. We’ll settle this at Genesis in about three weeks. I’ll just have to embarrass him in front of a worldwide pay-per-view audience instead of in front of a national TV audience like I wanted to.” Hardy: “So what happens at Genesis? What defense do you have against the Final Flash?” Hawke: “Never give him the opportunity to use it in the first place. Look, they say the best defense is a great offense, and with all due respect to the rest of the SWF locker room, I’ve got the best offense in professional wrestling. And if the opposite is true, and the best offense is a good defense, then I’ve got the best defense in wrestling as well. So when Zyon and I get into this ring, we’ve both got something to prove. He has to prove he can beat me one-on-one to actually get his hands on my title, and I’ve got to prove that I was right all along. He’s not worthy of this belt, he’s not worthy of being in the same ring as I am, and he damn sure isn’t going to have a bogus athletic commission on his side at Genesis!” Hardy: “Alright, there you have it! Jay Hawke will defend his title against Zyon at Genesis! And to hear him tell it, if you thought tonight was wild…well, I don’t think we’ve seen anything yet!” Jay Hawke leaves the ring, as the crowd once again chants his name. As he leaves the ring, we cut to the broadcast team. Pete: “Well, King, nothing was settled here tonight, and somehow I’m not sure even Genesis is going to settle things between these two.” King: “Oh, trust me. After tonight, it’s going to get settled at Genesis one way or another. The only catch is this. Before tonight, it was just a championship belt and a lot of pride on the line. After tonight… I’d be worried that one of these men doesn’t leave the arena on their own power.” Pete: “I hope it doesn’t come down to that, King. We still have a couple of huge matches to go tonight though, and these matches will happen, so don’t go anywhere!” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted August 30, 2005 Yet another commercial break fades to a close and is replaced by an impressive shot of Jacobs Field, packed to the brim with overexcited Clevelanders...Clevelandites...people from Cleveland. They surround the ring placed in the center of the baseball diamond and murmur excitedly amongst themselves as they wait anxiously for the evening’s next contest. Suddenly, the stadium’s lights are cut out, leaving the field and the ring illuminated by the setting sun and nothing else. Without a note of music being played, Devon Walters and his brother stride out from behind the makeshift entrance stage. A fairly positive reaction follows the brothers as they make their way down the ramp. “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!” Funyon shouts. “Introducing first, accompanied by Matthew Walters, weighing in at three hundred and thirty-five pounds...DEVOOOOOOOOON WAAAAAAAAAAALTERRRRRRRRRRRRS!!” Remaining expressionless for their entire trek, Devon and Matthew reach the ring and climb up its steps. Devon slowly walks to the far corner and stoically stands there, staring intently at the entrance ramp while Matthew stares intently at him. “Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, everyone!” LDP cheerfully greets. “Up next, we’ve got a study in extremes as the gigantic, mild-mannered Devon Walters takes on the spry asshole El Luchadore Magnifico.” “You’re just mad that Mags has two hundred times the personality of this walking pile of Buddhist muscle.” King counters. “If he didn’t have his slightly-less-bland brother accompanying him, he’d be completely worthless.” Neither Devon or Matthew move a muscle, waiting along with the crowd for the other competitor in this match. A few of the fans have already begun to boo in anticipation... “HEY HEY! *BOOOOOOOOMMMM!!* And the rest follow suit when Atake FDD’s “Tu Final” hits the speakers and red white and green pyro explode upwards from the stage, signaling the entrance for El Luchadore Magnifico. “And now, from Mexico City, Mexico...” Funyon begins, “Weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds...EL LUCHADOOOOOOOOORE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOO!!” Devon scans the smoke created by the pyro, wanting to keep his attention focused on his opponent. However, Magnifico’s nowhere to be seen. The crowd starts to quiet down and talks amongst themselves, confused as to why ELM hasn’t shown his face yet. After a few seconds, cautionary yells and shouts begin to emanate from a corner of the audience, but they’re too low for either of the brothers to hear them. Woulda been nice for them to shout a little louder, because the brothers Walters don’t catch sight of Magnifico popping out of the crowd, Mexican Flag in hand. Scowling, ELM jumps onto the apron behind Devon and raises his the flag high in the air! Matthew shouts at his brother to turn around, and Devon does so just in time for ELM to bring the flag down and crack it over his forehead! *CRRRRRRAAAAAACK* “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” Devon falls to the mat, hand on his head, as Magnifico quickly climbs into the ring. Cursing the luchadore out as he does so, Matthew charges towards ELM and lashes out with his arm for a Lariat! Grinning to himself, Magnifico sidesteps the charging older brother and swings his flag like a baseball bat, slamming it into Matthew’s gut! The fans release another wave of angry boos as he falls to one knee a hand on his gut. Savoring the moment, Magnifico slowly draws the flag high above his head once more and... *CRACK* ...whacks Matthews right on the small of the back, immediately sending him to the mat! The incensed crowds boo and curse out the luchadore as he stands over Matthew, laughing joyously. “Well, it’s a little crude, but I can’t argue with the results.” King finally says. “Goddamnit, King.” Pete snaps. “This is a cowardly, unprovoked attack, and you’re sitting there justifying it.” “That’s what they pay me for.” King proudly responds. Back in the ring, Magnifico is drawing the flag above his head once more, still chuckling happily as he does so. ELM is just about to drive the flag onto Matthew’s vulnerable body when the flag is suddenly grabbed from behind! Magnifico’s disposition immediately sobers as he slowly, apprehensively turns around. Turns out his apprehension is appropriate, as he turns around only to have Devon crack him right in the face with a ridiculously stiff punch! Magnifico releases the flag, falls to the mat, and immediately rolls out of the ring, Devon’s eyes locked onto him the entire time. Shouting at Devon in curse-laced Spanglish, Magnifico backs up the entrance ramp, surrounded on all sides by furious but justified fans. Devon observes the luchadore for a moment before taking the flag and breaking it over his knee, drawing a massive pop from the capacity crowd! Incensed but not having the nerve to get back in the ring, ELM practically screams as Devon as Walters calmly watches the luchadore rage on. After a moment, Devon catches sight of his brother rising to his feet and immediately helps him get up. Matthew stands and gruffly thanks his brother while the fans cheer and applaud all around them. “Well, looks like we’re not getting a match out of these two.” King realizes. “Probably for the best. Magnifico would have made mince-meat out of that meek masher.” “And you yell at me for alliteration.” Pete counters. King grumbles something unintelligible. “Anyway, we’ll be right back with our main event after this commercial break. You won’t want to miss Johnny Dangerous defending the World Title against Danny Williams, so stay tuned!” The last shot shown before the starwipe is Devon and Matthew Walters, staring out at the retreating luchadore... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted August 30, 2005 The World Title is on the line and there’s not an any empty seat in the house or empty anything for that matter, truth be told you probably couldn’t find a spot on the floor. There’s so many people that one has to wander if the whole city shut down for tonight’s very special event. Much like SWF fans around the world, many in Cleveland have been impatiently anticipating tonight’s main event. It’s no secret that the seemingly invincible Danny Williams has been on a demolition spree since returning, picking up more fans than he’s ever had before, quickly becoming the most popular and beloved athlete in the federation. And now that he has the opportunity to cement himself as the top guy in the company and capture the richest prize in the sport for a record setting forth straight time, you better believe all eyes are on the ring.. The atmosphere is unmeasurable as the classy Fuynon takes center stage, when you see a guy this well dressed you know this is the place to be. Moving with so much esteem that the simple action of holding a microphone to his mouth comes off snobbish, Funyon delivers his lines with booming elegance. “Ladies and Gentleman, it is now time for the Main Event of the evening.” Just looking at a crowd this size is impressive, hearing a crowd this size erupting as one is surreal. Unable to deliver his lines, Funyon patiently waits for the things to settle down. Several moments pass before Funyon gives up and shouts over the rumbling crowd noise. “The following contest is for the SWF World Heavyweight Championship. Introducing first, the challenger..” Knowing who that this, the fans somehow raise the volume to a whole other level. The sonic bombardment is so extreme that it threatens to shake the building apart like an earthquake. The hyper guitar work of Edguy kicks in but not even power metal amplified to the eleventh power can drown out the screaming masses. Funyon announces the challenger’s name but it’s lost in the screams. With only his fans howls to announce him, Williams comes charging out of the locker room. Bouncing up and down with raw energy, the fired up challenger jogs down the aisle with unbridled enthusiasm. Not since his return has Williams looked so happy to be back. He can’t wait to get this thing started, this is the reason he returned to action after all, to reclaim the pride he lost last year and become the dominant champion he’s always dreamed of being. Sliding into the ring, Williams hyper actively runs the ropes, eagerly warming up for the biggest match since his return. King: I bet Williams was a dodge ball Champion in middle school. Pete: I would like to point out that Williams has recently signed up to face Magnifico on next week’s Storm regardless of the outcome of this match. Right now, he’s just doing what he said he would and pursue his dream first. King: Well, Mr. Williams is in for a rude awakening tonight. At Ground Zero, the Barracuda gave one of the most heroic and valiant performances in wrestling history, reaching the apex of his career and capturing the SWF World Title. Taking it from him won’t be easy, I expect he’ll defend the title he fought so hard to obtain with the same passion. On that cue, a sensual female voice whispers the name of the super spy who happens to be the new World Champion. “Johnny Dangerous...” Theatrical strobe lights flash, fog rises, and the fans become violent. Much more audible now, Funyon carries on the introductions. “And his opponent, weighing in at 217 pounds, hailing from Las Vegas, Neveda, he is the SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION......JOHNNY DANGEROUSSSsssssssssssss!!!! Taking the stage, the Neo look alike raises his newly won title over his head for all to see. Not exactly fond of how he won the title, the Cleveland fans respond with a barrage of jeers and slurs. Ground Zero may already be in the history books but the memory of Johnny’s betrayal continues to linger in the fan’s thoughts. Feeling betrayed himself, Dangerous exchanges words with the front roll fans as he makes his way down the aisle. He reminds the narrow minded bastards in the stands that they simply don’t understand his point of his view, titles aren’t won with kisses and hugs. Pete: Heroic and valiant? The man tossed aside every value and morale he ever had, turning his back on his fans in selfish pursuit of glory. King: He did whatever it took to win, Pete! So what if the fans don’t like him anymore, haven’t you been listening to Magnifico? Johnny Dangerous is a winner now, that’s what matters! Pete: There’s more to wrestling than winning. The words: honor, dignity, and prestige come to my mind. King: Your using that crap as a cop out to explain why you never won the title. If you acutally held the damn thing, you’d know that the King’s Road isn’t for baby kissing good doers. Both men are in the ring and electricity is in the air. Not eager to part with his precious trophy, Dangerous resists handing over the title until the last possible moment. Williams eyes briefly leave his opponent to admire the sparkle of the passing gold, it’s been too long. Letting the wrestlers no that he means business, Soapdish goes over the rules with both men, taking a little more time with Dangerous. Satisfied, Soapdish delays the festivities no more and signals to the bell keeper! Ding! Ding! Ding! Firmly behind the challenger, the fans energetically chant “Let’s Go Danny” from the get go. Williams acknowledges the faithful with a quick smile but after that he’s all business. Slightly irritated by the incredibly vocal one sided support, a scowling Dangerous gives the fans a quick scan. It wasn’t long ago that they were chanting his name and now just one week later they hate his guts, it’s enough to make one sick. Wanting nothing more than to piss on the fan’s parade, Dangerous anxiously meets his hulking challenger in the center of the ring. They lock up in a grapple but the stronger Williams easily gains the upper hand with a smothering front facelock. This isn’t a surprise what does come as a surprise is when Williams suavely rolls back to the canvas, wrapping the unsuspecting Dangerous up with a sudden small package! Believing that the match could already be over, the shocked fans leap out of their chairs, hopefully counting along with the equally stunned official! “One!” “Two!” Fighting for his lively hood, Dangerous wiggles free at the last second! Off balance and ill prepared, Dangerous foolishly rushes to his feet. Blam! A powerful shoulder block sends the secret agent back to the canvas in bruising fashion! Licking his lips with anticipation, Williams dives on top of Dangerous, catching him by surprise with another early pin attempt. . “One!” “Two!” Frantically squirming, Dangerous wiggles out from underneath Williams. In hopes of gaining the upper hand, Dangerous races Williams to his feet but the challenger has to good of a head start. Blam! A second shoulder block crushes the lean Dangerous into roadkill! Once more, the champion finds himself the victim of an over anxious pin attempt. “One!” Expecting it this time, Dangerous escapes much quicker. Not making the same mistake three times in a roll, the Champion bails to the outside in a blur. Williams makes chase but Dangerous is already out of his reach. Staying in the ring, Williams flexes his broad shoulders before motioning his hands to his belt line, promising the fans victory. The crowd eats it up by the spoonful. Pete: Williams is coming out very aggressive tonight, trying more pin attempts in a couple of seconds than he did in his entire match with Landon Maddix. King: He tired to catch the Champ off guard but Dangerous didn’t get the title by being stupid. Pete: He got it by betraying his partner, his fans, and values. King: Sometimes you need to make a few sacrifices for the greater good. Pete: Greater good? More like personal glory. Holding his aching head, Dangerous calmly paces around on the outside. Leaning over the railing, some of the more daring fans boldly hurl insults in his face. Upon flipping them off, Dangerous starts thinking strategy. Grappling with the bigger vet was stupid, he won’t make the same mistake twice, he’s got to stick to what he knows. He’s a secret agent, in expert in hand to hand combat, it’s time he started acting like one. Vaulting over the top rope like a ninja, Dangerous busts out some sort of cheesy martial arts pose he probably saw in a movie as opposed to actually learning from a master. Getting in a kung fu stance, Dangerous points a challenging finger at Williams. The message is clear, he wants to face Williams in fist to cuffs. Normally small guys run from him, this one wants to match strikes. Impressed, Williams looks to the fans, who pound their feet in anticipation for the rumble to come. Pleased with the reaction, Williams accepts the challenge and raises his hands in a guard. King: Williams doesn’t know what he’s getting into, Johnny Dangerous is a very dangerous man. As a secret agent, he’s mastered karate, judo, kick boxing... Pete: Martial arts training or not, Williams is still one of the best strikers in the history of the fed and stepping on his turf may not be the best of ideas. Dancing around like he’s the second coming of Ali, Dangerous evades the lurking Williams, who is patiently stalking him. Using some clever low key foot work to counter his opponent’s quickness, Williams out maneuvers Dangerous and corners him. Williams lunges forward for one of his trademark forearms but the slippery champion evades him with a duck. Quick to counter, Dangerous unloads a lighting quick flurry of back fists to Williams’ jaw and neck! A hard Uraken caps off the combo but when the dust settles Williams remains unmoved. Before Dangerous can react the secret agent finds himself on the receiving end of a cringe inducing right, left, right elbow combo! A closing reverse elbow floors the teetering Dangerous, earning Williams a monstrous pop! Relaxing his guard, Williams raises a triumphant fist before getting back in character. Pete: It looks like hand to hand combat isn’t the best approach for Dangerous. King: I expected that, Danny’s the elbow guy but we’ll see what happens when the karate kicks come into play. Slamming his fist into the canvas, an embarrassed Dangerous returns to his feet with a flashy kip up. Squatting low, Dangerous stretches his legs from side to side, preparing them for the ass kicking he’s about to deliver. Not intimidated, Williams stoically resumes his fighting stance. Turning cautious circles around each other, the two strikers come together in the center of the ring for another showdown. Liking to keep things close, Williams lunges inside only to get greeted by a wild spin kick that comes within inches of his face. Danny’s luck runs out after that. Smoothly spinning on his planted foot, Dangerous swoops back around in the opposite direction, knocking the statuesque challenger on his ass with a sweep kick! Not wanting to get caught on his back, the muscle bound challenger athletically kips up. Ready and waiting, Dangerous ambushes his rising target with a skull cracking Enzugiri! Grabbing the back of his head, Williams aimlessly swaggers about in a punch drunk haze. Taking aim, Dangerous launches his signature alliance breaking Johnny Kick at the staggered challenger’s chin! But it’s caught! A counter mule kick catches Johnny on the BUTT of his chin, nearly knocking him out of his boots! Amused by the irony, the fans celebrate while Dangerous retreats to the floor. Pete: Well, Dangerous faired a little better with his kicks but ultimately he’s still no match for the bigger, stronger Williams. King: Eh, you can’t fault the guy for trying. If I was in boots, I would have done low blowed Williams twice by now. Holding his aching jaw, Dangerous leans against the apron, showing no interest in entering it. Williams tries to play by the rules but as Soapdish draws closer to the magic number, he starts to become worried. Not wanting the match to end by a count out, Williams leans over the ropes and reaches down with the intent of pulling Dangerous back inside. Suddenly springing to life, Dangerous hooks the surprised Williams by the legs and drags him under the ropes. King: Ha, he was playing possum! That stupid muscle head always falls for that one. Racking Danny’s eyes before he can figure out what’s going on, Dangerous slams his face into the apron and whips him into the guardrail! But Danny rebounds back in an instant, dropping Dangerous with a hard running elbow! Pete: What determination from the challenger, not even Dangerous’ recently acquired dirty tactics can stop him! Muscling Dangerous back inside, Williams gets him in a corner and turns loose the elbows! The fans roar with approval as Williams aggressively hammers Dangerous into oblivion. After pounding Dangerous senseless, Williams sends him into the cross corner with a strong Irish whip! Clutching his aching back, Dangerous aimlessly wobbles out of the corner, only to walk straight into a ring shaking Powerslam! One! Two! NO! To Williams and the thousands in attendance disappointment, Dangerous squeezes a shoulder up. Anxious to end the match and get his gold fix, Williams winds up his arm, arousing the interest of the fans. Dragging the ailing Dangerous to his feet, Williams fires him into the ropes! Expecting Dangerous to spring back into his waiting hands, Williams swings out his massive arm for the Axe Bomber! But the secret agent clings to the ropes, hits the deck and cowardly bails! This doesn’t got over to well with the crowd, who believed they were just seconds away from seeing a new Champion. After failing to get anything going offensively in addition to nearly eating the most feared Lariat in the business, Dangerous tosses his hands in a “forget this” gesture. Wobbling around the ring side area, Dangerous frantically tackles the belt holder. Wrestling the belt away from it’s designated handler, Dangerous stumbles down the aisle. Pete: It looks like Dangerous is packing his bags and heading home. King: Smart move by Dangerous, Williams can’t win the title by a count out. Pete: Somehow I doubt this is the calculated act of a genius. King: I wouldn’t expect a caveman like you to understand the actions of a genius. Not liking this one bit, the fans lower their thumbs in disapproval, throwing wadded up programs and empty beer cups in Dangerous’ direction. They paid good money to see tonight’s match, it can’t end like this. Unlike the fans, Williams can do something about this travesty. Jumping out of the ring with a snort, Williams angrily marches up the aisle. Peaking over his shoulder, Dangerous picks up the tempo, climbing up the ramp with a goofy hobble that recalls images of the possessed Rick Moranis in Ghostbusters. Easily catching up with the punch drunken champion at the top of the stage, Williams reaches out and snags him by the hair. Dipping underneath his captured foe, Williams casually presses Dangerous over his head. Clinging to the belt, Dangerous pleas for his life while doing his best not to look down at the terrible fate waiting for him below. King: That lunatic’s gonna throw him off the stage! Coming to their feet, the fans beg Williams to do it. What terrible fate awaits Dangerous, a slam down the ramp, a free fall to his death, or something else? Choosing the later, Williams heads down the ramp while miracliously keeping Dangerous suspended over his head. The puzzled fans “oh” and “ah” as Williams starts to pick up some speed, bulleting towards the ring with snowballing momentum. Bug eyed, Dangerous screams in horror as the ring moves closer and closer to him. Timing his release just right, Williams launches Dangerous towards the squared circle like a human javelin! Threading the ropes, Dangerous crash lands in the center of the ring with a splattering thud! Pete: Williams wants him back in the ring, the only place where he can win the title. Impressed by Williams’ amazing display of power and stamina, the Cleveland crowd rabidly applauds. Leaping onto the ring apron with cat like agility, Williams purposefully scales the turnbuckles. Holding his aching back, Dangerous winces as he pushes himself upright, meanwhile Soapdish returns the title to the designated official in hopes he can guard it better this time. Not realizing he’s walking into a trap, Dangerous spins around. Gracefully diving off the top rope, Williams levels the secret agent with a powerful back elbow! A mess of flailing limbs, Dangerous tumbles over with the momentum, ending up face down and his stomach where he lies dazed and incoherent. Getting the impression that Dangerous is ready to be taken out, Williams energetically runs in the place, rallying the thousands in attendance into a wild frenzy. Ripping off his elbow pad, Williams beckons Dangerous to rise so that he may tear his head off and take home the gold. Pete: Williams is looking for the Axe Bomber again! Regaining some basic motor skills, Dangerous struggles to pull himself up in the corner, oblivious of the lurking danger behind him. Twitching and wiggling like a hitter at bat, Williams waits for the moment to strike. It comes when Dangerous reaches his feet, turns, and slumps. Letting out an ear piercing scream that can be heard over the howling hordes, Williams charges! Steam rolling across the ring, Williams extends his muscular arm for the crushing death blow! The blow would surely have obliterated Dangerous if it even came close to landing! Content on being more than target practice, Dangerous dips down and catches Williams around his legs! Using Danny’s own momentum against him, Dangerous heaves his attacker off the canvas and hurls him backwards! Crack! Going face first into the ring post, Williams bounces to the canvas and gruesomely rolls off his neck! Outraged by this gruesome atrocity, the entire crowd leaps out of their chairs and vents their disgust. Kings: That’s the move that won Dangerous the Title! Pete: What a repulsive desperation move from Dangerous. He has become so obsessed with the title that he’ll risk seriously injuring his opponents to keep it. King: If you won the title, you’d understand that type of behavior is necessary. Sinking to the mat, Dangerous smacks himself around, struggling to wake up. Soapdish hurls a series of warnings but Dangerous could care less, what’s he gonna do disqualify him. Needing to capitalize off the deadly move he just employed, Dangerous ponders his situation. He doesn’t need to risk the Death from Above right now, besides he’s the Champion now he doesn’t need to take risks anymore. Crawling out of the corner, Dangerous turns Williams over, revealing a dark pool of fresh blood. Chuckling at what he has done, Dangerous hooks a leg for the pin. Anarchy breaks out in the stands, this is the second time the fans will have to watch one of their favorites fall prey to the secret agent’s cheap move. They scream, boo, and throw what they can but in the end it’s all up to Williams as the ref starts the count. One! Two! NO! Williams manages a meek kick out! Momentarily relieved, the fans briefly applaud and return to their feet. This comes as a surprise to Dangerous, who was certain that Williams had been knocked cold. No matter, this is only a brief delay of the inevitable. Swiping his hands to his sides, Dangerous shouts “It’s over!” to the worried fans. If I can’t pin him I’ll make him quit, thinks Dangerous, who fashionably wraps Danny’s head around the back of his neck like it’s a feathered Boa. Pete: He’s going for the Barracuda! King: This is one defense in the books. Resisting, Williams clings to Dangerous’ leg, preventing himself from completely turned around. This doesn’t prove to be enough as Dangerous casually scrapes the boot of his free leg across William’s lacerated forehead, stomping and grinding it until he releases his grip. The “boos” are deafening as Dangerous turns Williams over and drops down, bending his back to the snapping point. While his back may be in horrific pain this isn’t the main cause of Williams’ grief, exploiting the injury, Dangerous drops his knee across the back of his victim’s head, pushing and grinding his bloodied face into the canvas! The sight is sickening, evoking the deepest sympathies from the thousands in attendance. “Ask him! Ask him!”, spits a deranged sounding Dangerous. An ill feeling Soapdish bends down and pops the question. For Williams, asking him if he wants to quit now is like an insult. This is the moment he’s waited for since he returned, after all he’s endured to get here, he’s gonna give up a chance to win the title that he’s lost so much blood for? Just barely pushing his mouth off the canvas, Williams defiantly screams,”Noooooooooooo!” Angered by Williams’ stubborn refusal to quit, Dangerous sadistically raises his knee off his victim’s head and drops it, than again, and again, repeatedly banging the trapped Williams’ face into the mat. With his blood running across the canvas like a spilled can of crimson paint, Williams gasps, screams, and chokes. If there was anyone in the building who still had nostalgic place in their heart for Johnny Dangerous, their hearts have been turned by this gruesome scene. Pete: I’ve never seen this side of Johnny Dangerous before, the glory days of Wild and Dangerous have never seemed so far away. King: This is what it takes to hang on to titles, Pete. Terrified and repulsed, the fans do the only thing they can for Williams, help him will his way out of Dangerous’ torturous clutches. It starts with a few fans in the front, gradually spreading it’s way to the sides and back until the entire crowd is frantically chanting! “Dan-e! Dan-e! Dan-e!” The chant is thunderous and demanding, the fans have done their part, it’s up to Williams to do his. Snapping back to life with a burst of adrenaline, Williams answers the call of his fans. He scratches, claws, and pulls, epically dragging himself to the only thing that can save him, the bottom rope. Snorting and snarling, Williams inches himself towards salvation, stretching his mangled and twisted body outwards, snagging the ropes with his first try! Pete: You want to know what really wins titles, King, it’s displays of courage like that. King: No, that’s what causes idiots to lose their health. The fans rejoice but not for long! Refusing to release the hold, Dangerous screams with frustration, continuing to torque Williams’ back with his favorite submission hold. Soapdish starts the count but Dangerous does nothing, daring the official to d.q. him. Not wanting to give in to the cunning Champions demands, Soapdish grabs his hair and pries him off Williams’ mangled body to a big pop. Dangerous may not be a big wrestler but he’s still much larger than the tiny official, whom he roughly shoves to the mat. Realizing that Soapdish isn’t gonna disqualify him just yet, a cocky Dangerous bends over and bitch smacks the taste out of the official’s mouth. Soapdish swallows his pride and takes it, if this is the price has to take to restore order so be it. Pete: This is despicable, he may be the champion but he has no right to treat an official this way. King: Soapdish had no right to pull his hair like that, if he didn’t step over the line, Dangerous wouldn’t have had to put him back in his place. While the near rioting fans call him every name in the book, a determined Dangerous makes his way back over to Williams, hell bent on taking him out once and for all. So much blood is pouring from Williams’ head that you can’t even make out his unmistakable strong featured face as he struggles to pull himself up with the ropes. All you can see is the volcanic blue of eyes, alive with pain and determination. Grabbing Williams by his leg, Dangerous pulls him to the center of the ring. Intent on furthering the damage he’s done, Dangerous stiffens his body and executes a picture perfect fist drop! Not settling for just one, Dangerous frantically drops two more, splattering Williams’ blood across his knuckles! The bloodied Williams is barely moving, giving Dangerous all the incentive he needs to try the cover. One! Two! ................... Thre-NO! A spasmic thrust of the legs frees Williams from the pin. Getting irritated, Dangerous tries another cover. One! Two! ................ NO! Again, Williams barely kicks out! Shooting an accusing look at Soapdish, Dangerous mounts Williams’ chest and unloads a brutal flurry of punches to his face. Blood droplets fly everywhere, decorating the ring in dark red spots. Another cover follows! One! Two! .................. Thre-NO! Williams wiggles a shoulder up, sending Dangerous over the edge! Jumping to his feet, Dangerous curses at Soapdish, insisting that he’s been purposely counting slow. Crazy eyed and pulling at his jet black hair, Dangerous no longer resembles a smooth secret agent but a glue sniffing punk rocker. Soapdish holds his ground, maintaining that he’s been calling it right down the middle. Getting nowhere, Dangerous madly goes after Williams. Dragging him off the mat, Dangerous scoops him on his shoulders with a fireman carry. With no regard for Williams’ well being, Johnny spins around and tosses him over the top rope like a piece of garbage. “Boooooooooooooooooooooooo!” Dusting his hands off, Dangerous orders Soapdish to count him out. Soapdish agrees but only if he keeps his distance and lets him count Danny out fairly. King: Dangerous is smartly employing the Champion’s advantage, he doesn’t have to pin Williams to keep the title, he can just set back and let him get counted out. Pete: This cowardly act may very well be the only way Dangerous can defeat the determined challenger. King: Exactly Pete, now your learning. Half heartedly, Soapdish slowly starts the count while the nervous fans watch on with their hearts in their mouths. Dangerous watches on with great interest, making sure that Soapdish isn’t trying to cheat him. “One!” “Two!” “Three!” Laying in a pool of his own blood, Williams begins to stir, sluggishly pushing his chest off the floor. “Four!” “Five!” “Six!” Using the apron as a crutch, Williams drags himself upright. He hears the official’s count now, encouraging him to try harder. “Seven!” “Eight!” The drowsy challenger struggles to throw his leg over the apron while the panic stricken fans beg him to hurry up. Getting worried, Dangerous starts screaming at Soapdish to hurry up. Paying no mind to the Champion, Soapdish carries on the count at his regular pace. “Nine!” Getting one leg up, Williams slides beneath the bottom rope, beating the count. Snarling, Dangerous pushes Soapdish out of the way and drags Williams the rest of the way inside. Taking him by the hair, Dangerous runs Williams across the ring and hurls him over the top rope. Turning away, Dangerous gets on Soapdish, whining about the count and insisting that he do it right this time. Little does Dangerous know, Williams held onto the ropes, preventing himself from taking another nasty spill to the outside. While the hopeful celebrate, Williams somehow finds the strength to ascends the turnbuckles. Realizing that something went wrong, Dangerous swings around, finding his challenger perched on the top rope. Not giving the ambush the chance to materialize, Dangerous runs into the ropes, triggering a vibration that takes Williams’ feet out from under him. The disappointed fans flinch and boo as the off balance Williams crouches himself on the top turnbuckle! Pete: What further depths of depravity will Dangerous sink to in his quest to retain the title. King: He’ll sink as far as it takes. Dangerous has dreamt of winning that title for over a year, of course he’s gonna pull out it every trick in the book to keep it. Williams should take notes, this is how you earn the title and keep it. Danny’s a sitting duck and Dangerous knows it. With malicious thoughts drifting into his mind, Dangerous gleefully climbs up after Williams. This is his chance to put away the stubborn bastard once and for all. Crack! Upon reaching the second rope, a sudden elbow smash catches Dangerous off guard! Crack! A second elbow follows, knocking Dangerous woozy! Springing to life, a desperate Williams bravely leaps over the back of his stunned foe, catching him around the legs in mid flight! Landing on his feet, Williams rips Dangerous off the ropes, pulling him to the canvas with a thunderous Sunset Flip Powerbomb!!! Pete: What a move! This is exactly how Williams first won the title from Ejiro! King: Stupid move by Dangerous, as the Champion he had no business taking a risk like that. Williams leans forward on his tippy toes, holding Dangerous’ folded carcass down for the pin! With images of Williams’ first title win last year dancing in their heads, the fans jump up and down with joy as Soapdish anxiously starts the count. “One!” “Two!” ............. “THRE-Oooooooh!” collectively groans the crowd as Dangerous rakes Williams’ blood dripping face, breaking up the pin. King: Well, at least he redeemed himself by smartly exploiting the injury. Pete: But Dangerous is hurt and Williams may still have a shot at pulling off the miracle. While Williams bleeds on the ropes, Dangerous agonizes on the canvas. Clutching his aching back, a frustrated Dangerous fights his way to a vertical base. Gingerly staggering around like a hunchback, Dangerous clings to the ropes for support. Making his way over to Williams, Dangerous takes out his frustration with some mean spirited stomps. Since Williams is on the ropes, Soapdish tries to get in the way but Dangerous pushes him down for the second time tonight. “Booooooooooooooooo!” Sitting up, Soapdish stares at Dangerous with repressed anger. Leaving Williams to waddle around in his own blood, Dangerous climbs to the outside. Unable to straighten his back, the broken Champion stumbles around the outside like a teetering drunk. Grabbing a nearby chair and using it like a crutch, Dangerous makes for the belt holder like a crazy old man chasing a bottle of viagra. The poor official makes a run for it but Dangerous hurls the chair in his direction, nailing him in the back with it! Collecting his title, Dangerous rolls back into the ring against Soapdish’s wishes. He doesn’t want to escape with his belt anymore, if Danny wants it he can have it. Standing poised and ready with the title, Dangerous orders Williams to rise! Pete: That coward is gonna purposely get himself d.q.ed! King: That coward is gonna keep his title! Letting Williams reach his knees, Dangerous draws back the belt when he feels some resistance! Turning around, Dangerous finds a stone faced Soapdish clinging to his precious title. Cursing and swearing like an ill mannered sailor, Dangerous violently tugs at the strap while the delighted fans root for the brave little official. Dangerous shakes Soapdish from side to side like he’s a baby rattler but the angry balding little man clings to the belt like a pitbull. But suddenly, Soapdish stops struggling. Looking behind Dangerous, a rare smile forms on the official’s face. Releasing the belt, Soapdish distances himself from the dead man in front of him. Puzzled, Dangerous creeps around! BLAM! The Axe Bomber viciously connects, sending the junior heavyweight flipping backwards like a gymnast! Unlike a gymnast he lands on his neck, bouncing off his head like it’s a basketball. Twitching like a dying animal, Dangerous lays on his back, the belt he has sacrificed so much for remains clinched in his hand. Laid out beside his victim, the near dead Williams remains focused on his goal, using his last ounce of energy to wearily drape a tired arm across Dangerous’ chest. Sliding to the canvas with excitement, Soapdish wipes his smile off his face and eagerly starts the count. Endlessly applauding, the fans scream along with the count at the top of their lungs! “ONE!” “TWO!” ............ “THREE!” Soapdish calls for the bell and the celebration that follows is monumental! Ding! Ding! Ding! If it were not for security, the fans would have overtook the ring. The arena has transformed into a proverbial madhouse, they knew that there was a strong possibility that Williams could pull it off but it’s not until it actually happened that they realize the magnitude of the event. Possessed by the festive mood that has taking over the arena, the most reserved fans have found themselves standing and at least clapping. Prying the belt from Dangerous’ dead fingers, Soapdish hands the title to the blood stained Williams. From his knees, Williams cradles the belt to his chest, staring at it in disbelief. It doesn’t seem real to him. This moment has been an accumulation of a year long struggle, an apex he thought he would never reach again as he spiraled into oblivion last year. Pete: History has been made! For the first time in SWF history, we have a four time World Champion! King: This is an outrage! Pete: What you do mean? King: I never cheated this bad this bad to win the title, Pete. Dangerous has been screwed by a dirty official who refused to follow the handbook and disqualify him despite his constant rule breaking. Slow counts, psychical confrontations, hair pulling, distractions, the list goes on and on. I wander how much Danny paid him? Pete: I doubt he paid him anything but Danny at least treated him with respect. Despite Dangerous’ numerous attempts to sabotage the match, Soapdish kept it clean and called it down the line. If anything, Soapdish should get an award for his officiating tonight. King: Thank me, your not in charge of the year end awards. Despite massive blood loss, Williams postpones medical treatment to pose with the title for the screaming hordes of near rioting fans. He knows has to enjoy this moment while it lasts, this we’ll be his last night as a freeman. From experience, Williams knows that winning a title is easy, he’s done it more than anybody it’s hanging on to it that will be the real challenge. The challengers are already lining up with Magnifico at the head of the pack. It’s gonna be difficult but Williams is up to the challenge. The copyright rolls on a final shot of a battle weary Williams stretching the title over his head while flash photography goes off like machine gun fire. 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Chuck Woolery 0 Report post Posted August 30, 2005 ... but wait, there's more. *KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!* "Who is it!?!" Outside of Room 130, Benjamin Hardy stands with microphone in hand, trusty Cameraman Gus right by his side, ready to get the BIG SCOOP~! "It's Benjamin Hardy for the SWF, we wanted to get a word with you Landon." "I'm busy. Get lost." "Landon, we're here to find out who you've got in that room with you. And unless they're good at jumping out of high buildings without injuring themselves, we're going to find out sooner or later. So you might as well let us in." An audible groan comes from the other side of the Room 130 door, which abruptly opens slightly as Landon Maddix pokes his head through the gap. Noticing Hardy, with camera, Maddix again groans, sliding carefully through the ajar door, making sure the camera can't get a good shot of the inside. "Well, well, aren't we the interpid reporter." sneers Maddix. "Who sent you here then?" "Mr Flesher did. He told us not to leave until we got the scoop. He sounded pretty adamant about it." "Flesher." The very name brings a frown to Landon's face. "So, you're not going to leave until you've found out who's behind the door, right?" Maddix muses things over, before slowly smiling. He's got nothing to hide anymore. The deal is done. The situation has been sorted. There's no secrets needing to be kept now, he realises, lightening up as he grabs his ole' buddy Benny boy around the shoulder, a little too tightly for Hardy's comfort. "Well, Ben...'Mr Flesher'...in that case, I want you to meet a couple of close friends of mine." Reaching behind him, Maddix pushes the door open, the camera hurriedly moving to get a good inside shot of the room... ...and, to the figure sat on the bed. The SWF International Champion himself, Jay Hawke! Hawke looks up and seems a little surprised to be on camera, but shrugs it off, looking off to his left and smiling to someone out of shot. Quickly, Gus wheels the camera around to where Hawke is looking, revealing another man, standing with arms folded and glaring through the open door frame. Former SWF Hardcore Champion, JJ Johnson! After getting a good shot of the two, Gus wheels back around, to reveal Maddix beaming from ear to ear. "What the hell are these two doing here?" Hardy finally chimes, confused. "Oh, well, I was feeling a little down, so I called up some old friends. How about you two guys join us. We're going to put our hair up in curlers, eat some Haagan Daaz and we'll watch Bridget Jones' Diary, parts 1 and 2. It'll be a scream." Maddix smiles, clearly pushing his sarcasm a little too far as Hardy rolls his eyes. "What do you THINK they're doing here!?!" "I have no idea. I mean, Jay Hawke and you fought over the International Title...JJ was in Revolution Zero. This makes no sense." "It makes PERFECT sense." smiles Maddix, as he 'invites' (read: drags) Hardy into the hotel room. "You see, there's an old saying Ben and it goes...Desperate times call for desperate measures. And, much as I hate to admit it, these are desperate times for Landon Maddix. I can speak until I'm blue in the face and still, people won't listen to what I've got to say. Respect is still lacking, when it comes to Landon Maddix. And I've realised that one man alone isn't going to change the opinions of the world. Which is why, I've decided to make some offers, call some favours and ask for some trust. See, what you have here...on first inspection, could be three men who really don't like each other all that much, for various reasons. But look closely. And what you have...is the perfect trio. The perfect team. What you're looking at, at the risk of getting sued by about 1/3 of the wrestling business...is the Future!" A smile forms on the face of Jay Hawke, JJJ still looking emotionless as he glares forward. "The Gold Standard Of Professional Wrestling, if you will. What you have are three men here, with not a whole lot in common in terms of personality. But, professionally, three men with drive. With desire. With pure ambition flowing through their veins. So, what I have done is I have brought myself, Jay Hawke and JJ Johnson together and I have shown them indisputable facts. Together, we are the total package. My weaknesses are compensated for by Jay Hawke's strengths. Jay's weaknesses are complimented by JJ's strengths. And JJ's weakness are complimented by MY strengths. As a trio, there is no style of wrestling we have not perfected...and no man, or men, in the SWF that can stop us." Stepping forward, Maddix stands beside JJ Johnson. "Right here, you have JJ Johnson. Former Hardcore Champion and one of the toughest men going in the SWF. This man can fight you on the streets, fight you in the Octagon, fight you in the wrestling ring...wherever there's a fight, JJ will be there to fight it. He's 'The Enforcer' of our team, if you will. Anyone who thinks they can intimidate little ol' me is in for a sudden rude awakening, because now, if you mess with me, THIS is what you can expect in your future!" growls Maddix, as Johnson growls beside him, holding up his fists. "A former Hardcore Champion, as tough as they come, the backbone of the trio. And sure, he doesn't talk much...infact, he hardly talks at all. But they say 'a picture is worth a thousand words'...and JJ Johnson is tough enough, mean enough and downright bad enough to turn anyone in the SWF into a disfigured mess that Picasso himself would be proud of!" As JJJ smiles at his endorsement, Maddix walks around the side of the hotel bed, next to Jay Hawke, who quickly tilts the International Title in his lap up to be better displayed to the camera. "Now, Jay Hawke. The man I knew I had to have on my team, because he is quite simply technical wrestling personified! The Dean Of Professional Wrestling. This man was good enough to beat me for the belt he holds...and if that isn't endorsement enough, I don't know what is. What Jay brings to the table is not just the technical ability. Not just the mat wrestling, the submission wrestling. What Jay Hawke brings to the table is a pure...wrestling...brain. He's a student of the game. Jay will stretch you in knots and then untie you, just for the fun of tying you up some more. The criticism has always been that I couldn't wrestle my way out of a paper bag. Now, I don't need to. Because I can just step aside and let Jay Hawke crumple you up and toss you into the trash for me." Hawke smiles too, as Maddix pats his new-found buddy on the back. "And then, there's little ol'me." he smirks. "A man who has done everything there is to do in this business. There isn't an accolade worth having that hasn't been mine in my career. SJL Television Champion. SJL European Champion. SJL World Heavyweight Champion. SWF Tag Team Champion. SWF USJL Champion, two times. SWF ICTV Champion, THREE times. SWF International Champion. Cold Front Classic Winner. 2005 Clusterfuck Winner. And former SWF Heavyweight Champion of the WORLD! I may only be 21 years old, but I have accomplished as much as anyone in this business and more than the majority. But I've also got experience of being a team player. I've led...and I've been led. The House Of Todd dominated the SJL, with me doing Todd Royal's bidding. The Unnamed were top of the SWF, with me in the ranks. Chris Card Enterprises? That was all me! And with me at the helm, Martial Law managed to be a success, despite the deadwood carried on my back for so, so many months. But none of those groups...not one...has the potential that this group of people before you has." It's still smiles all round, as Maddix again wraps an arm around Benjamin. "Ben...take a good look around you. Because you are looking at future in the making. This is an historic moment. The beginning of a new era. The beginning of something big. I've sat back in the shadows for far too long. It's time to stand up and rise back to the top of the mountain again. It's time for Landon Maddix to get back on top. It's time for Jay Hawke to start getting the plaudits he deserves. It's time for JJ Johnson to be recognised. And together, we are going to change the face of the SWF. You think The Midnight Carnival were dominant? You think Revolution Zero had the power? YOU AIN'T SEEN NOTHING YET!!" Hawke applauds away, JJ simply nodding his head, as Maddix places a hand on each of Benjamin's shoulders, turning him slowly to face the door. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
