Genesis Losing Matches

[jwpeer 0]

Thought my match was fun

 

-

 

 

 

"Everything feels good, nothing can stop me."

 

The hyper-synthed words to "Teethgrinder" by Therapy, blare out on the loudspeaker of Madison Square Garden and a mixed chorus of boos and cheers erupt from the smart MSG crowd as they anticipate the imminent arrival of the enigmatic Japanese superstar TORU!

 

 

"Every nerve pumpin hard through me."

 

 

TORU comes out right in the middle of his music tonight, preferring to make a more dramatic entrance as he runs out and onto the ramp, slapping both his elbow pads and rolling his neck for that tough-guy emphasis as he continues his stroll to the ring, ignoring the mixture of boos and cheers in stride. Cameras flash off his sunglasses and serve only to emphasize what kind of wrestling specimen TORU is. His tag partner KOJI, manager Chris Card, and lovely valet Jet all follow at a considerable distance allowing the incredibly focused TORU to hold onto the spotlight tonight.

 

 

Climbing into the ring, TORU immediately heads to the center of the ring and stares down the entranceway as his music subsides. Official Nick Soapdish raises a finger to TORU's sunglasses and makes a comment...and TORU simply slaps his hand away and continues to await the arrival of his opponent.

 

 

Suddenly some jazzy hip-hop music starts filling the arena...

 

 

"Uh-Uh"

 

 

The crowd goes silent, some of them recognizing the voice of local NYC rapper Nas.

 

 

"Uh-uh"

 

 

TORU takes his sunglasses off all of a sudden, becoming very wary as he looks around the ring expecting some type of surprise attack from yet another Marcus Ward mystery partner.

 

 

"Uh-uh"

 

 

"A Mastermind - sees it coming before it comes"

 

 

Even as the low-key voice of Nas begins his rhymes, TORU jumps and turns around expecting an attack from behind. Instead he just looks stupid as a man wrapped in a shiny gold sequined cloak steps out of the entrance and onto the ramp.

 

 

 

"A mastermind - before he go to war he counts his one"

 

 

The cloaked man lifts a single finger in the air.

 

 

"A mastermind - everything planned out perfect, in case y'all niggaz got to get murdered."

 

 

Marcus Ward reveals himself as that line is playing, lifting his head up so he can tap finger to forehead as is his signature taunt...and then begins to make his stroll to the ring.

 

 

"A mastermind - sleeps at night, real easy"

 

 

Marcus lets his cocky smile come out and play, as he spies his opponent talking in hurried Japanese with his manager and partner.

 

 

"A mastermind - cause everything he does is by the book"

 

 

Ward stops halfway down the walkway as he spies a young markish kid holding up a "TOTAL CONTROL TORU FOR ME, MASTERMIND".

 

 

"A mastermind - never do a thing irrational, lives forever, these tales are classical."

 

 

Marcus smiles again...and grabs the sign in his hands and tears it in two as his song moves into the main lyrics the volume lowering. The young kid starts crying as he gets the pieces of his sign he must have spent all day markering up are tossed at his face. Ward turns back towards the ring and lets his shiny sequined cloak drop to the ground as he finishes making his way to the ring by sliding underneath the bottom rope and staring down TORU face to face as he taps forefinger to temple yet one more time.

 

 

 

"Welcome back to Genesis folks, and up next is a singles match involving one-half of TKO, TORU...as well as the newly entranced Marcus "The Mastermind" Ward" announces Longdogger Pete

 

 

Suicide King adds, "I for one greatly enjoy Ward's new entrance as I'm quite the hip-hop fan Pete...fshizzle!"

 

 

Longdogger rolls his eyes, "That's King, always keepin it real...anyway this match is about to begin, and my main thought for this one: how will Marcus handle the triple threat OUTSIDE of the ring, while keeping himself focused on the dangerous TORU in the ring."

 

 

"PETE! he's THE MASTERMIND - everything planned out perfect, in case y'all niggaz got to get murdered....didn't you listen Petey?!" retorts King insultingly.

 

 

At that Nick Soapdish finishes indicating the time limit and other basic rules to competitors and signals for the opening bell for this one fall matchup.

 

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

 

 

"The Mastermind and TORU are circling each other near the center of the ring to start this match, it's going to be a feeling out process for these two evenly matched powerhouses." commentates Pete.

 

 

A quick smile alights on Ward's face as he lifts his hands in the air indicating to TORU that he wants to engage him in the time-honored test of strength. TORU rolls his each of his shoulders around, loosening the joints as he too raises his arms to prepare to engage The Mastermind to find out who's going to have the power advantage in this match.

 

 

 

"What do you think King, who's gonna come out of this particular strength contest with the advantage?" asks Longdogger Pete

 

"Whatever appears to be the advantage, the real edge will be with The Mastermind, as this is all a part of his plan to win this match, Petey."

 

 

The tips of the fingers are just tocuhing, then TORU backs off of Ward a few steps, shaking his head as though he was expecting him to execute a cheap shot. Ward flashes his smile back at TORU and invites him once again to partake in the test of strength. TORU gets his hands up and edges closer to The Mastermind again, and with painstaking precision the two heavyweights lock their fingers together in the tight overhead grip and begin exerting all their muscle to gain the advantage. Their hands remain locked above their heads, tendons taut in their arms as they attempt to bend the wrists of their opponent to create a leverage advantage! They begin pacing in a circle around the ring, Marcus Ward and TORU Takahara attempting to find some mythical better position in the ring to gain the advantage. Height starts becoming a major part of this contest as TORU begins to bear down from above on Ward, clearly turning over the wrists of The Mastermind and beginning to forcibly bring his arms down to the waist.

 

 

"Amazing show of leverage by the six foot and four inch TORU Takahara, and he's managed to parlay that into excrutiating pain for Marcus Ward...but not for long as The Mastermind is breaking out his tremendous lower body strength and has reversed the trend bringing both competitors arms back up to the overhead position in this test of strength!" commentates Pete

 

 

King chuckles, "Petey! Don't you know that Ward was just taking a little rest there to build for his overpowering victory in this situation!"

 

 

Having managed to reset the test of strength to a neutral position, Ward begins to let loose that smarmy smirk he's managed to perfect during his short stay in the SWF. Both men are sweating as they begin to feel the strain of maintaining their balance, continuing the footwork as they circle each other in the ring, and simply attempting to overpower the other. The crowd begins to build interest in the match as they realize just how closely matched the two wrestlers are. Marcus Ward continues his smirk as he begins to take an advantage, slowly applying his will until TORU's arms are twisted at his waist, the heavyweight import struggling to reassert himself, refusing to lose this signature contest.

 

 

SLAP!

 

 

The crowd gasps and then boos as they react to Marcus Ward letting go of TORU's left hand and executing a vicious left handed slap to the face as he twists T.Takahara's right arm around his back in a smoothly applied chickenwing that leaves TORU grimacing in pain, slapping his right shoulder to emphasize the amount of pain that's shooting through the nerves in his arm.

 

 

"Execellent display of technical prowess by The Mastermind in the application of that chickenwing arm lock type maneuver, I begrudingly must give him credit for having improved his technical wrestling skills since his debut against Martin Hunt!" comments Pete

 

 

Marcus continues the application of his chickenwing hold with the right hand, using his off arm to lock TORU's free hand into an immobilizing half-nelson. TORU realizes his predictament and attempts to make a break for the ropes but has himself lifted off his feat by the powerful Marcus Ward, intesifying the painful position his arm is in.

 

 

King compliments Ward once again, "Excellent submission position Ward has managed to tie TORU into, it's creating a perfect position for him to pummell the piss out of this japanese pissant!"

 

 

Frustration begins to show on Ward's face as TORU continues to endure the pain to his right arm without any indication to the referee that he's interested in giving up. Ward uses his position to execture sharp 3-inch distance elbows to the side of TORU's head with his left arm that's holding him in the half nelson, a painful maneuver that incites a new round of jeers from the hot MSG crowd. A barrage of elbows brings out a warning from the referee...that Ward promptly ignores with a final 'bow that rings the ears of the now-dazed and chickenwinged TORU. Ward takes the opportunity to catch him off-guard by lifting his opponent high up into the air, getting him totally horizontal in the half-nelson chickenwing hold, only letting go at the last second as he drops TORU lower-back first onto his outstretched knee, executing a unique backbreaker drop to continue his dissection of TORU.

 

 

Longdogger marvels, "This match has been masterwork by the mastermind so far, as his masterplan is on perfect display tonight!"

 

 

Continuing his smooth execution, Ward keeps TORU stretched over his knee after the backbreaker, beginning to stretch him out over his lower back. Marcus begins applying his weight and muscle focused through his forearm on the chest of TORU, stretching that vulnerable lower back to the limit.

 

 

 

"First the arm, now the back. Ward has really come in here with a gameplan of individual isolation of his opponents core areas, and systematic elimination of their effectiveness. Such a smart gameplan from the man who's finally wrestling with the type of knowledge he's claimed since his arrival in the SWF." remarks Longdogger

 

 

King can only agree, "It's obvious that Marcus Ward was saving his biggest performance for the biggest night of the year!"

 

 

With the top of his head now touching the canvas, TORU begins to flail his arms in pain. Marcus heightens the pressure on TORU's chest, actually digging the point of his elbow into TORU Takahara's chest cavity to add extra pain in another location. Ward flashes his smirk in TORU's face, getting real close to him as he seems to ask him to just give it up already...and eats a wad of spit in the eyes for his trouble, causing Ward to release the submission as he rubs his opponents saliva from his face, with cheers for TORU flushing his face in embarrassment.

 

 

King grumbles, "The referee needs to watch that dirty TORU, this is Genesis, you need to play fair so the fans get what they want!"

 

Longdogger Pete responds, "According to MY ears, the fans DID get what they want!"

 

 

A crowdwide chant of TORU has begun for the first time in this match, finally establishing the fan-favorite for this match. TORU doesn't seem to respond to those chants, apparnetly more concerned with his damaged lower back and arm as he remains face-down on the ground...in perfect position for Marcus Ward to grab TORU's left ankle and use it to drive the left knee hard into the mat.

 

 

"Now Ward is working on the third phase of his plan, taking out the steady and powerful legs of TORU." commentates Pete.

 

 

Ward executes the knee-into-the-canvas maneuver again before lifting his head to the crowd with a smile and signature finger to temple taunt that receives a doubly powerful round of boos and "Mastersuck chants" that only serve to fire up the relentless Mastermind. Marcus lifts the leg of TORU up a third time to drive it into the mat, but lets go and points towards a furious KOJI that has leaped up on the apron to protect his tag partner. Nick Soapdish quickly turns his back on the action as he attempts to restrain the livid KOJI Kitano...which Ward quickly takes advantage of by dragging TORU to the ropes by the worked-on knee and swiftly using the top two ropes to get the foot caught up to immobilize the leg in mid-air.

 

 

"What type of impact will this have on TORU's isolated knee?!?" questions Pete

 

 

Several high front kicks to the leg from Ward leave TORU pounding on the mat and reaching for the ropes as his knee is brutalized by The Mastermind. Marcus quickly takes to the second turnbuckle and leaps off of it with a BONE-SHATTERING double axe-handle that actually manages to dislodge TORU's leg from the ropes, even as the official turns back to the action.

 

TORU pounds the ground and clutches at his left leg, clearly injured by the dirty elevated blow from Marcus. Showing little care for his opponents predictament, and in fact some enjoyment, Ward begins STOMPING on the injured left-leg of TORU! It takes all the authority of Nick Soapdish to restrain a smiling Ward from continuing his sadistic assault. The official crouches down to ask TORU if he should stop the match due to injury as Ward strolls to the opposite end of the ring to executre his signature finger to temple taunt to the crowd.

 

 

Pete comments, "Tremendous gameplan from Ward, but I question his methods in disabling TORU's knee, he's got a lot to answer for!"

 

 

King responds, "The only thing he has to answer to is the bell...when it rings, he's won and that's ALL that matters!"

 

 

"Sure King...wait what's this, Ward has turned his attention back to the downed TORU, but KOJI has come up onto the apron behind him and the referee's back is still turned, this doesn't look good...SPRINGBOARD DROPKICK TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD, WARD is flattened and KOJI is scrambling out of the ring as the referee reacts to the impact of both bodies against the canvas behind him!"

 

Offical Nick Soapdish notices KOJI leaving the ring as well as the near unconscious figure of Marcus Ward and adds two and two rather quickly, approaching KOJI in a rush, sticking the finger of authority out at him and TOSSING HIM FROM RINGSIDE!!!

 

 

King chuckles, "That's one goon Ward won't have to worry about..."

 

 

"But Ward does have to worry about his actual opponent in TORU now, as he's still shaken up on the mat, while TORU has finally managed to regain his vertical base, and is a dangerous opponent even with a limp, stretched out back, and sore arm," comments Pete.

 

 

Approaching his opponent with that limp mentioned by Pete, TORU waists no time stomping on the back of the head of Ward, clearly angry at the way he's been manhandled so far in this matchup. TORU's normally cool demeanor is taking a backseat to vengeance as he uses Soapdish's argument with Chris Card about the KOJI ejection as an opportunity to drive the point of his foot right into the vulnerable neck of Marcus Ward. The Mastermind begins clutching at his throat and thrashing on the canvas as his oxygen is sapped out of him by the illegal choke, finally given a breath as TORU lets his foot up...only to have that foot slam into his face with a brutal stomp, cracking the skin and giving way to a trickle of crimson that is further spread around his face as TORU scrapes the surface of his boot back and forth over the wound. His dirty assault is ended finally as the referee returns his attention to the match, but not before Ward's face is bleeding in several places and has managed to get the mask of blood look from the smearing.

 

 

Longdogger Pete winces, "Absolutely vicious assault to the face from TORU Takahara, and it looks like he's going to begin his offense in this match, though how effective it can be with the work that's been done to him remains to be seen."

 

 

TORU cotninues his assault with a savage knee drop to Ward's bloody face...and rolls on his back clutching at his knee that impacted with Ward's skull, having absentmindedly used his injured limb to execute his move.

 

 

King laughs, "Certainly TORU will never be claiming to be any type of mastermind, he hurt himself doing a knee drop!"

 

 

Reaching his feet once again, TORU favors that injured knee even more...but that doesn't stop him from dropping his good knee right into the chest of Ward, driving the oxygen out of him and ending any thoughts of turning the tides back in his favor. TORU takes advantage of his position and drags Marcus up by the hair...slamming into his midsection with a HARD knee-lift that buckles Ward at the waist...and allows TORU to quickly backup to the ropes at the opposite end of the ring, spring off the second rope and SLAM Ward's face into the ground with a springing axe-kick to the back of his head! A swift cover by TORU follows his flying move...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

THR...

 

 

 

...A Ward shoulder off the canvas ends TORU's chance at victory, but only incites him to make another, tighter pinning attempt...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

T...

 

 

 

 

...That only leads to a more sure kickout by the lively Marcus Ward!

 

 

 

Longdogger Pete commentates, "I must give credit to Ward for his amazing brilliance, having his already openly wounded face being axe-kicked to th ecanvas, and still able to muster of the strength to kick out twice is quite a feat...that has managed to upset TORU as he's going to the top turnbuckle now, with the intentions of busting out one of his 264 lb aerial bombs!"

 

 

 

TORU raises his arm up slightly to signal as he steadies himself on the top turnbuckle, taking a moment to set his sights on his target before launching himself straight at the prone Marcus Ward with an extended left knee.

 

 

 

'TORU' HAMMER!!!

 

 

 

Two hundred and sixty-four pounds directed behind a pointy knee right in Ward's face must have knocked him out cold...and also send TORU straight to his knee again, realizing the mistake he made even as the pain nearly knocked him out as well!

 

 

King starts laughing again, "TORU...wrong kneee...AGAIN. Holy shit this guy is stupid! He's so used to having a tag partner to bail his nip ass out that he's got no clue how to preserve himself for a long match!"

 

 

Pete shakes his head, "You may be right King, but Ward still took the biggest impact from that 'TORU' Hammer, and is only twitching on the mat. It would just take a moment of ring awareness from TORU Takahara to win this match right now!"

 

 

But TORU is occupied with his own agony as he attempts to reach his feet to assure himself of his ability to walk...then he spots the twitching Ward out of the corner of his eye and begins dragging his leg across the ring then leaping on top of The Mastermind for the sure win...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

THREE...

 

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

Nick Soapdish shakes his head as Ward's should slid above the surface of the mat just before his own hand impact the self-same surface. He raises his fingers in the universal wrestling-referee TWO-COUNT NO FINISH signal...and is face to face with a downright furious TORU Takahara!

 

 

King admonishes TORU, "No uses arguing with the ref buddy, his word is LAW in the squared circle...and the truth from the law, is that you can't keep The Mastermind down for three!"

 

 

Longdogger replies "Unbelievable kickout by Marcus Ward, and the call was pretty close, close enough that even the fans are raining boos down on the speed of the count by Nick Soapdish. Apparently TORU feels he's gotten his point across well enough because he's attempting another cover on The Mastermind!"

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THRE...

 

 

...And a Mastermind arm shoots straight into the air lifting the shoulder off the mat to break the second pinfall following the 'TORU' hammer, and further frustrating his Japanese opponent. TORU rises to the mat shaking his head and begins heading to the far corner of the ring...before stopping and turning back around.

 

 

 

King chuckles, "Another sign that TORU forgot the situation he's in, as he has no 'corner' to turn to, no partner to continue the attack. He's going to have to figure out his own way of finishing off The Mastermind!"

 

 

Pete agrees with King, "Unfortunately you're right, that's what that looked like. TORU is getting frustrated, but he's on his own this match. And having realized that, he's lifting Ward to his feet in an attempt to finish the job!"

 

 

Rapid-fire low kicks to Marcus Wards legs restart TORU's assault. His stiff snapping strikes buckle the knees of Ward, though Marcus still manages to stay off the mat. A driving knee into the midsection doubles Ward over once again, and gets him a rising shin in his face to pop him back upright. The dazed Ward stands glassy-eyed in the center of the ring...till he takes a TORU running LARIAT to the bridge of his nose, smearing his blood on TORU's arm as the back of his head hit's the mat with a tremendous SMACK!

 

 

Longdogger commentates, "Potentially concussion there for Ward, as he's really taken a beating to his head. Also maybe a broken nose as I see blood seeping from it and onto his upper lip. He must have gone from fully vertical to fully horizontal is microseconds, I can just imagine the impact...and wait TORU isn't happy with just the lariat, he's going back to the top-rope. He's signally, and that cocky arched eyebrow can only indicate he's gonna go for the homerun: SHOOTING STAR PRESS!"

 

 

An ENORMOUS reaction comes from the crowd as they realize what is about to occur. The prospects of 264-lb TORU crushing Marcus Ward with a full-over backflip is very appealing to the fans at Madison Square Garden, and they're on fire as they begin the TORU STAR PRESS! chants, and other ridiculously silly made-up slogans!

 

 

TORU lines his target up with his hand, raises his arms to the sky one more time and SPRINGS off the top rope with absolutely amazing height, beginning his backwards rotation with wicked speed. At the top of his ascent, TORU is just getting around enough to see his landing area, only he fails to see the intended target: Marcus Ward. Gravity takes over for TORU and drags him screaming onto the canvas, his stomach burning red from the impact and his already worked-over back feeling the strain from it also...as Ward watches on from the outside of the ring.

 

 

King commends Ward, "Terrific job of knowing where you're at and getting out of the way of danger. That's why The Mastermind doesn't use those aerial moves, you just CAN'T count on them, and he's all about having a plan!"

 

 

Longdogger Pete remarks, "They also win a lot of matches for people King...What's this Ward and Chris Card are having a confrontation outside of the ring. Card is in Ward's face and they're jawing at each other...holy shit Ward just forearmed Chris Card in the face...NOW what is he doing?!?!"

 

 

Ward's forearm stuns Chris Card momentarily, just long enough for Ward to get a front waistlock around the TKO manager...and DRIVE him into the arena floor with a full-over belly-to-belly suplex! Marcus slides back into the ring at the referee's behest...but stays at the ropes watching Chris Card sit up after the belly-to-belly impact, taunting him with the well-known finger-to-temple tap...and taking a HARD roundhouse kick to the back of his head for the trouble, as TORU has recovered from his crash and burn Shooting Star Press attempt.

 

 

"There's the Chris Card effect, as his distraction gave TORU enough time to recover," comments Pete.

 

"It's all planned out Pete...just look Ward is fighting off those kicks!" retorts King.

 

 

After turning to respond to the stiff foot in the side of his head, Ward takes another one in the ribs from TORU. Marcus responds with a rough-looking uppercut forearm to the TORU's chin that gets countered with a STINGING series of knife-edged chops to Ward's chest.

 

 

Longdogger Pete continues his commentary, "An thrilling exchange of strikes by these two power-oriented wrestlers. Yet ANOTHER knife-edged chop from TORU..that Ward simply shrugs off and responds with a SLAP TO THE FACE? THE INDIGNITY! TORU is furious and restorts to a closed fist punch right at Marcus Ward's chin...only to have it blocked and receive a snap-elbow strike to his cheek, then a knee thrust to the gut, and a driving pointed elbow thrust to the top of the head muy-thai style, that gets him a stern warning from the referee but leaves TORU doubled-over clutching the top of his head!"

 

 

 

Smirk flashing on his face at the referees warning, Marcus Ward takes advantage of his dirty elbow to the head and engages the off-guard TORU in a front waistlock grapple...and LIFTS him straight up off the ground, Ward arching his back as he hefts all two hundred and sixty-four pounds in an aerial bearhug!

 

 

King laughs, "TREMENDOUS show of strength as The Mastermind regains control of this match by squeezing at the ribs and lower back of TORU, focusing on areas he's damaged earlier in this match!"

 

 

Pete questions, "That's a lot of weight to be holding up, and I wonder how long before Ward has to let go?"

 

 

Marcus continues to apply the pressure, his locked fists digging into the lower spine that earlier in the match was impaled on his knee. His chest and stomach pressing into the ribs of TORU as The Mastermind attempts to crack those ribs right in half. Sweat pours down the bodies of both men as they struggle: Ward attempting to maintain his hold, and TORU trying to keep from tapping out to the pressure...until Ward flips full-over into a belly-to-belly suplex almost exactly like the one he performed on Chris Card earlier in the match...only this time he bridges it into a pin that the referee slides in to the count!!!

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THRE...

 

 

...and the bridge gets broken by the struggling TORU Takahara...but not the waistlock as Ward uses some agility for once and flips over top of TORU onto his feet and hefts TORU BACK UP INTO THE LIFTING BEARHUG!!!!

 

 

Longdogger Pete expresses his amazement, "Quite simply an overwhelming show of power and even agility by The Mastermind, one that has Madison Square Garden absolutely HOARSE from disapproval with his skill!"

 

 

 

 

The submission is continued as Ward retains his stee-armed lock on TORU's lower back. TORU flails his arms in pain, not even able to muster the focus to strike at Ward in an attempt to release the hold. Marcus continues to arch his back to create better leverage for the mid-air rib-vise maneuever that is slowly squeezing the life out of one TORU Takahara...and in fact has left his slumped and the referee going straight for the arm count to determine if a KO has been determined:

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

The referee drops the arm for the first count and is met with a eruption of jeers that he's even assuming TORU would be knocked out by the hatably cocky Marcus Ward.

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

The second drop of the arm is accompanied by less of a reaction as the fans begin to fear for the worst.

 

 

 

 

THRE....and TORU keeps the arm rigid at a horizontal level, lashing out with the now-clenched fist at Ward's shoulder, attempting to somehow weaken the hold before his rib-cage is cracked and his lungs are punctured. Ward's hold on TORU begins to slip, and TORU's feet almost touch the ground...before Marcus quickly spins him around into a horizontal body-hold and SLAMS him down onto his knee in a side back-breaker, letting TORU's momentum be carried away with the oxygen WHOOSHING out of his lungs. The Mastermind stands straight, still holding TORU...and slams one-half of TKO's ribs right into his outstretched knee...quickly following it up with a THIRD signature backbreaker. Finally, Ward stands straight up and having carried TORU all this way across the ring...tosses him over the top rope and right onto the retaining wall separating the crowd from the floor outside the ring!

 

 

 

Pete rants, "I know he's in control King, but does he have to taunt the crowd and his opponent every time with that damn finger tap. It's downright IRRITATING! And he's DOING IT AGAIN!"

 

King simply laughs, "And that's why he's THE MASTERMIND!"

 

 

 

 

Tap to the temple taunt finished, Marcus Ward follows his opponent to the outside, not content with allowing him to recover tonight. The Mastermind climbs out of the ropes and onto the apron...and taps finger to temple again...then points to TORU lying on the arena floor in a taunt as well as possible signal that he's gonna break form and go airborne from the apron...which he does with a flying arms-raised in a fist double axe-handle attempt...that gets Ward a CRACK! TORU Takahara boot in the chin as Marcus Ward's airborne assault ends very poorly for him!

 

 

 

Longdogger comments, "Quick reaction by TORU has unexpectedly turned the tides here at Genesis, as you saw Marcus Ward attempted a very uncharacteristic flying move...lets see the replay of that."

 

 

 

The SMARKTRON and all the television feeds show a slow-motion feed of Ward's attempted double axe-handle...as well as the rapid extension of TORU's leg to collide with Ward's jaw...SNAPPING his head back with some serious slow-motion whiplash...

 

 

 

Pete continues, "Absolutely dreadful, it'll be a miracle if Ward can continue in this match after this...ESPECIALLY with TORU rubbing the heel of his boot in Marcus Ward's already bloody face! And the fans are CHEERING this, they must absolutely despise The Mastermind!"

 

 

King spits, "These NYC fans sicken me, look at their bloodthirsty cheers, they're barbarians here. OH look, FINALLY the referee notices the illegal use of the boot and is warning TORU. GOOD JOB SOAPY!!!"

 

 

TORU looks up at the match official Nick Soapdish and is obviously pretty upset that he's being told what to do, and immediately runs into the ring to confront him with his broken english and furious japanese. Their heated, nonsensical conversation continues for quite awhile, giving Marcus plenty of time to grab onto the retaining wall, pull himself up to his feet and turn towards the ring...right into a CALLING CARD!!!

 

 

THWACK!

 

 

Pete shouts, "Chris Card just SUPERKICKED Marcus Ward right in the face! I guess that's payback for the suplex earlier... wow AND the back of Ward's head slammed on the retaining wall...that's downright vicious looking and the fans just can't get enough of it... now Card is standing over the fallen Ward and taunting him...wait the ref's turned around and sees Card there and points at him..."

 

 

Soapdish points straight at Chris Card and tosses him just as he did KOJI earlier in the match...and for good measure tosses Jet too! Card starts screaming at the ref, with TORU joining in with broken english for good measure, but all they gets is the silent treatment as TORU has been forcibly left alone for the remainder of this match.

 

 

Longdogger PEte comments, "They should just be lucky they haven't lost by DQ yet, Soapdish is always a second late in seeing the interference...though now TORU is on his own, and we'll see how he stands up mano a mano with Marcus Ward."

 

Suicide King argues, "Not very well, it's obvious throughout the match that all of TORU's openings have been due to the meddling of Card and Company, NOT his own skill. The Mastermind is ready to finish off his plan."

 

 

Pete responds, "Sure thing King, but right nowq he's being rolled back into the ring by TORU, who quickly follows into the ring as well, and is now attempting a quick cover to capitalize on that Calling Card left behind by his manager!"

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THREE...NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

EVEN WITH the huge delay between the superkick and the pin attempt, Ward still BARELY lifts an arm to break the pin...and earns another cover attempt with hooked leg for his effort...

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THREE...NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

YET ANOTHER two point nine count results in TORU screaming Japanese obscenities at Soapdish, and dragging Ward to his feet by the hair. TORU starts to work quickly, executing several low leg kicks, before kneeing Ward in the gut...then launching himself off the ropes in a springboard dropkick! TORU gets to his feet swiftly, and physically manhandles Marcus Ward by bending over and lifting him straight off the ground up over his head in a gorilla press...and dropping him into a flapjack...then extending his left knee so Ward's stomach lands on the point of it in a devastating flajack gutbuster!!!

 

 

 

 

King winces, "Ward's just biding his time, his ability to fake injury is well-documented!"

 

 

"Sure King, but there was NOTHING fake about that sheer drop flapjack gutbuster, it was downright violent, and has really sparked the crowd with a renewed round of TORU chants!" replies Longdogger

 

 

TORU makes a cover after getting Ward off his knee and onto the mat, hooking the leg tight once again as Soapdish slides in for the count...

 

 

 

ONE!!!

 

 

...The crowd starts counting with the ref's hand...

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!

 

 

 

Echoing throughout Madison Square Garden is thousands of TORU Takahara fans screaming THREE at the top of their lungs, and absolutely exploding as they belief Ward's opponent has just pinned him. TORU himself jumps up and raises his arms to the sky...only to be staring at Nick Soapdish's twin fingers raised to the air pointing to The Mastermind's foot hanging loosely on a just-in-reach bottom rope.

 

 

Pete screams above the jeering crowd, "MSG is furious at Soapdish's call...lets replay it for them and all our viewers!"

 

 

A replay shows the official's hand coming down for the third time...and Ward's foot barely twitch an inch up onto the rope right in front of the referees eyes.

 

 

Longdogger continues, "Clearly the replay indicates that Nick Soapdish made the correct call, but there's no reasoning with these fans OR TORU who is screaming at the official in his Japaenglish spiel again."

 

 

King replies smugly, "Masterplan for the Mastermind, the ring is a tuffet, Ward's a spider, and TORU's little miss muffet...watch him run away!"

 

 

Pete comments back, "Uh King...are you okay...nursery rhymes with wrestling...has Marcus Ward's inability to regain control addled your brains?!"

 

 

Shaking his head in obvious disgust with the continued slow speed of the ref's count, TORU drags Ward to his feet yet again, quickly driving a knee into his abdomen to double him over...and locking in a standing head-scissors! TORU does a quick throat-slash gesture, inciting the crowd to near riot as they anticipate something big...then just as swiftly TORU Takahara underhooks both of Marcus Ward's arms and hefts him up and around over his head in powerbomb position...AND FALLS ON HIS BACK, Ward sitting on his chest then hooking the legs as he realizes the pinning position!!!

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THRE...NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

 

 

 

The near fall is broken up by a strong last-ditch kick-out by TORU, who rises to his feet and runs full-on at Ward intending to level him with an extended LARIAT...but quickly has that free arm grabbed from a bent over Ward....who lifts him up and onto his shoulders, locking one arm over top of TORU's and the other over his leg as he turns the LARIAT into TOTAL CONTROL!!!!

 

 

 

King cackles, "Amazing counter by Marcus Ward, he's absolutely turned the tide and is now RACKING TORU for his LIFE!!!"

 

 

 

Pete concurs, "Very swift move by the prepared Ward, he did his homework. But this is an absolutely WAR right now, We have Ward with the softened up abdomen holding TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY-FOUR pounds on his shoulders and applying the torture rack pressure...on a TORU Takahara who has had his back, leg, and arm all worked on throughout this match. It's a battle of mental toughness from this point on!!!"

 

 

 

 

TORU is the chant from the crowd as they realize how close The Mastermind is to winning this match. Ward seems to time his racks of the back and neck of TORU with the chants, in both intensity and speed. Screams from TORU cannnot be heard above the echo of the MSG crowd. The Official constantly asks the pertinent question of TORU Takahara: DO YOU GIVE UP? His weakened right arm locked in an impossible position, a position without leverage...a weakened left leg being free to do absolutely nothing as he can't create enough kicking force to dislodge his locked down leg...his back already worked over with countless breakers and a significant stretch earlier in the contest: TORU seems to be left with no choice...BUT HE FIGHTS ON!

 

 

"TORU!!!"

 

 

 

"TORU!!!""

 

 

Pete awes, "TORU continues to fight from the center of the ring. There is no KOJI tonight, thereis no Chris Card...it's his own will...what is he waiting on, how much more can the Japanese superstar take?"

 

 

King keeps it simple, "Not much more."

 

 

Waiting. Waiting. TORU tries to wait on The Mastermind's abdomen...that flapjack gutbuster had to have softened him up, he's got to be feeling the burn right about now.

 

Struggling. 264. Struggling. Ward stoops over, his knees strong but his stomach weak now. He's almost doubled over from the weight, he's not racking anymore, just holding...

 

 

 

TORU tries to squirm but his back is almost totally stiff from the TOTAL CONTROL torture rack, he sees his opportunity is NOW!...and he can't capitalize and screams as WARD is fully upright again and RACKING him from head to toe. HEAD TO FUCKIN TOE, his spine being twisted and turned...

 

 

 

 

 

TAP! TAP! TAP!

 

 

 

 

TORU taps the side of Ward's arm, and the referee quickly signals for the bell!!!

 

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

 

 

The bell rings and the referee clearly signals to Ward that it's time to let TORU down...and gets a face full of TORU feet for his trouble as The Mastermind has NO INTENTION of breaking off his TOTAL CONTROL hold at this time...as his music starts playing to indicate his victory.

 

 

 

"Uh-Uh"

 

 

 

Ward continues to rack the spine of TORU, who hasn't stopped tapping the air since the bell.

 

 

 

"Uh-uh"

 

 

KOJI and Chris Card come out onto the walkway and point at Ward...

 

 

"Uh-uh"

 

 

Ward stops racking, but keeps TORU held in the argentine backbreaker position.

 

 

 

"A Mastermind - Sees it coming before it comes"

 

 

Card and KOJI walk a few steps and stop, pointing at Ward again, mouthing the words "Drop him"

 

 

 

"A Mastermind - Before he go to war he counts his one"

 

 

 

Ward stands and stares at them...then cracks his smirk, tapping finger to temple in signature fashion.

 

 

 

"A Mastermind - Everything planned out perfect, in case y'all niggaz got to get murdered"

 

 

 

Card and KOJI start walking down the aisle, staring down Ward the whole time.

 

 

 

"A Mastermind - Sleeps at night, real easy"

 

 

 

Ward backs up to the center of the ring out from over top the referee.

 

 

 

"A Mastermind - Cause everything he does is by the book"

 

 

Card and KOJI make it to the floor outside the ring, staring up at TORU resting on Ward's shoulders.

 

 

"A Mastermind - Never do a thing irrational, lives forever, these tales are classical"

 

 

 

At the word classical Ward's muscles all tense...and he shifts position and DROPS TORU ON HIS HEAD!

 

 

 

 

BURNING FUCKIN HAMMER!!!

 

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING! DING!

 

 

 

The ring bell sounds several times again, in perfect time with TORU's head impacting the canvas...revealing Bruce f'in Blank operating it once again. He runs into the ring to join The Mastermind standing over an unconscious TORU Takahara...Marcus Warding staring down Chris Card and KOJI Kitano full smirk on his face...finger tapping for the taunt on his temple.

 

 

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT

[Coffin Surfer 0]

Wow another zero reign. Grrrrrrrr, Comments required.

 

 

 

There’s a magic aura looming in the air of the Gardens, the unmistakable electric atmosphere that surrounds all events of great importance, historical or otherwise. There’s little doubt that this is the place to be tonight, if your not here your watching at home, and if your not watching you better be dead or in jail. After all this is only the biggest wrestling promotion in the world’s biggest yearly pay per view, the proverbial New Years Day on the SWF calendar where new dynasties and legends are born while others crumble into dust. Even those who aren’t fans find themselves tooning in, drawn to the spectacle if not the monumental event itself.

 

This isn’t just the biggest night in wrestling, it’s one of the biggest nights in all of entertainment. As a result there are more than just wrestling fans in attendance, scattered throughout the front rolls and the balconies are the smiling faces of numerous A list celebrities like Judd Nelson and Sarah Michelle Gellar. Jack Nicholson, Bill Clinton, Al Pacino, and Muhammad Ali are also in attendance. Not to mention past SWF greats like Edwin, Z, Grandslam, Strangler, and.... Cutthroat, who is immediately hauled away by security for jumping the guardrail and getting beat up by Funyon’s little girl. This is indeed the place to be and now as the Main Event draws near, the feeling of importance has never been stronger. As Funyon enters the ring for the final time tonight, there’s a feeling of excitement that surpasses the night’s previous matches, transforming what has been the typical great Garden crowd into something more.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s time for the Main Event of the evening. The following contest is scheduled for one fall,” like Freddy Mercury at the height of his powers, the fashionable virtuoso announcer suddenly shifts from an elegant speaking voice into a thunderous boom,” and will be for the SWF World Heavyweight Championship!”

 

The fans passionately celebrate with a respectful applause, they’ve enjoyed the whole show but this is the moment it’s all been building to, the match that will decide who’s gonna lead the company into the new year. With this in mind, it’s not surprising that the crowd turns hostile when the lights go out and a rhythmic shout of “Hey Hey!” echoes out of the loud speakers. These are the trademarks of the El Luchadore Magnifico’s entrance, a man the fans obviously don’t want to lead the company anywhere.

 

Putting his rock star voice on the shelf, Funyon temporarily resumes a more proper tone,” Introducing first, weighing in at a slim 210 pounds, hailing from Mexico City...Mexico, he is the number one ranked challenger in the world today....EL LUCHADORE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOO!”

 

Red, White, and Green explosions form a path up the walkway, leading the fan’s eyes to a modestly built man in black and red tights, holding the Mexican flag with a great sense of duty and importance. His ribs are heavily taped, a painful reminder of his brutal series of matches against Dangerous. Examining the jeering masses around him, a snarl forms on Mag’s battle weary middled aged face. This is the closet he’s gonna come to dignifying the controlling vampires that populate the arena. They mean nothing to him now, he might as well be wrestling in a empty arena. Ignoring the screaming lunatics that surround him, Mags moves down the walk way with purposeful strides. He moves like he wants to take it to the Champion as soon as possible but there’s also the cool patience that comes with age and experience in his steps, a restrained walk with hints of boiling intensity hiding beneath the surface. Upon entering the ring, Mags waves the flag of his home land, a private hello to his family watching at home while everyone else lowers their thumbs.

 

Pete: This is it, fans! In just a few short minutes we will see that man, the challenger El Luchadore Magnifico take on the reigning World Heavyweight Champion, the seemingly invincible Danny Williams.

 

King: This is much more than a title match between two of the biggest names in our sport, Pete, this is a collision of ideologies.

 

Pete: That seems to be the case as of late. Last week, Magnifico urged Williams to not make the same mistake he did, that he should wrestle for himself instead of the fans.

 

King: I can’t say I agree with that.

 

Pete: What, your taking Williams’ side?

 

King: Hell no. I just don’t think it’s wise for Magnifico to share his secret to success with his upcoming opponent.

 

With his flag propped up on the outside, Mags warms up with some flexible stretches that most gymnasts would have a hard time pulling off. But his routine is interrupted by the shredding guitars of Edguy. The response is overwhelming!

 

Raising his voice to the point of shouting, Funyon struggles to be heard over the screaming hordes,”And his opponent, weighing in at a solid 272 pounds, hailing from Louisville, Kentucky..........HE IS THE SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION.......DANNY WILLIAMsssssssssssssssssssssssssss!”

 

While Funyon does an impressive Whitney Houston impersonation, all eyes turn to the locker room area, scouring the darkness for their first glimpse of the almost mythical athlete. Moving with almost ape like movements, the indistinguishable hulking frame of the new Champion steps from the shadows, his girth just barely clearing the doorway. Emerging from the locker room like a hungry beast leaving his den, Williams makes his grand appearance. His presence is unequaled, a monestrous long haired barbarian that humbly carries himself with intelligence and dignity. Tightly sporting the gold around his wide waist, Williams makes his way down the aisle, gently slapping hands with the rabid front roll fans. His walk is calm, confident but not too laid back. Williams knows he can take Magnifico, new attitude or not, but memories of his past short comings won’t let him be as confident as he’s been in the challenger role. Even though this looks like a sure victory on paper, Danny is taking this match very seriously.

 

Pete: Since his return, Williams has been a human wrecking ball, demolishing all competition in route to capturing the World Title for a fourth time.

 

King: And if he doesn’t want to lose that title for a fourth time he better take Magnifico’s advice.

 

Pete: I disagree, the humble crowd pleasing approach that Magnifico criticizes so much has proven to be quite successful for Williams.

 

King: But being a nice guy won’t always work. Even you know that, Pete.

 

Pete: I know but thus far Williams has been so dominating that he hasn’t had to get mean and dirty to pull off the win.

 

King: That could change after tonight, I got a feeling that Mags is gonna drag this one as deep into the gutter as he possibly can.

 

Now that both men are in the ring the size mismatch on paper becomes a glaring visual. Even by average joe standards, Magnifico’s build isn’t that impressive. His body is only slightly larger than average without the faintest hint of any muscle definition, making his tanned skin look far more soft and fair than his pale skinned opponent. Williams on the other hand is quite the specimen, a giant of average height, he may not be as ripped as he once was but the sheer bulk of his muscles is pretty damn scary. If one didn’t know better they would come to the conclusion that Williams would run over Magnifico in under ten seconds but the majority in attendance are familiar with the crafty luchadore’s deceptive athleticism, his veteran smarts and most importantly his deranged motivation to take the title from the crowd favorite. With an anxious look in his firey brown eyes, Magnifico licks his lips in anticipation as he ever so carefully creeps further and further from his corner. This gets Williams’ attention, who can only smile at his opponent’s eagerness to start the match, perhaps the burned out luchadore still has some gas left in the tank. Unbuckling his massive pure gold title belt, Williams hands the heavy thing over to Soapdish. But as soon as he turns his back, Williams feels the deceptively strong arms of Magnifico constrict around his waist like a snake. Looking down, Williams finds the black haired head of Magnifico tucked under his arm pit. Williams tries to resist but it’s too late as he’s already being hurled backwards for the Backdrop Suplex! To the accompaniment of a bone crunching thud, Williams lands hard on his broad shoulders, folding completely over on his stomach! Williams is in bad shape and the size advantage is only a fading memory.

 

Pete: Williams has been Pearl Harbored before the bell!

 

King: That’s his own fault, Pete. A Champion is a wanted man that should have alert eyes in the back of his skull.

 

Shaking his head, Soapdish angrily calls for the bell while the outraged fans hiss and jeer.

 

Ding! Ding! Ding!

 

Like a bear that hit his head on the entrance to his cave, Williams crawls around on the canvas, slowly shaking his head form side to side. Eyeing the devastation he’s created, Magnifico finds his attention drawn to Williams’ right arm, the symbol of his failure. With the Champion lying prone on his stomach, Magnifico savagely applies a painful step over armbar on Williams’ right elbow. The intention is clear, Magnifico isn’t twisting the arm to cause Williams’ discomfort, he wants to rip his arm clean from his shoulder. Kicking his legs and screaming, Williams crawls to the ropes in a panic. Soapdish administers the three count and Magnifico obeys, after all he can’t win the title if he’s disqualified. Free from the torturous clutches of his captor, Williams rolls to the sanctuary of the floor. Magnifico thinks about following him but the Champion is already on his feet, pacing around and holding his arm. Wearing a confident smile, Magnifico motions his arms around his belt line, a mocking variation of the same taunt Williams used against Dangerous. This doesn’t go over to well with the fans who loudly boo the cocky luchadore.

 

King: Brilliant strategy from the former Carnie. While others would foolishly try to stretch the early advantage and go for the quick pin, Mags wisely looked to the long term and set about damaging Williams’ main offensive weapon from the get go.

 

Pete: Might I ask why? Magnifico employed the exact same strategy in their previous meeting and it didn’t pay off.

 

King: But that was goody goody “anything to please the fans” Magnifico. Now Williams is up against a deranged ego maniac that wants to tear his arm off and beat him with it.

 

Rubbing his tricep and elbow, a sneering Williams prepares to go back into battle, rightfully taking offense to yet another attempt at injuring the elbow that’s so crucial to his success. Following Soapdish’s commands, Magnifico keeps his distance but it’s clear by his stance that he doesn’t intend on giving the Champion a break. Not harboring any fear for the much smaller luchadore, Williams shakes out his elbow one more time before boldly sliding inside. Pushing the official aside, Magnifico tears into Williams before he can reach his feet, whacking his arm with some well placed roundhouse kicks. Flinching with every blow, Williams struggles to reach a vertical base only to be immediately took over by a fireman’s carry. The fans gasp in terror as Magnifico drops to the canvas and scissors the arm, securing it for the deadly Cross Armbreaker! No stranger to applying or escaping the infamous hold, Williams suavely slips out of Mags’ clutches and promptly rolls to his feet. Aiming for the arm, Mags fires a wild kick in frustration! But it’s caught! Dropping the boot and spinning in place, Williams drops the challenger with a graceful yet powerful Rolling Elbow! Clutching his jaw, the embarrassed challenger crawls out of the ring on his knees. After briefly shaking it out, Williams raises his arm to the cheering masses, letting them know that Mags offense had no lasting effect.

 

Pete: Like so many others before him, Magnifico has found out the hard way that Danny’s elbow is unbreakable.

 

King: We’ll see. I got a feeling that Mags has much in store for the Elbow King.

 

Pete: That may be true but right now Mags better get himself out of the hole he’s just dug himself in.

 

Barely making the count, Mags drunkenly slides into the ring. Showing more courtesy than his challenger, Williams waits for the luchadore to reach his feet before opening up on him. A mauling six elbow combo sends Mags teetering into the ropes. Taking the staggering challenger by his thin wrist, Williams whips him off the ropes so he can do more damage. The elbow drunk luchadore doesn’t make it far, barely managing a few steps before collapsing in the center of the ring. Improvising, Williams keeps his position near the ropes, patiently letting Magnifico mindlessly stumble to his feet before obliterating him with a demolishing running elbow! The impact blows Mags into the ropes, who much to the pleasure of the fans somehow tangles himself up in them. Smiling at this rare treat, Williams looks to the screaming masses for advice. They want blood and Danny is inclined to agree. Wide eyed with fear, Mags pleads for mercy.

 

Pete: I bet Mags really doesn’t want Williams to listen to the fans now.

 

King: Actually, he should listen to em. For once these idiots called it right.

 

Pushing the official aside, Williams winds up his elbow and fires it towards Mag’s exposed ribs. The luchadore flinches but nothing happens. Chuckling, Williams walks away with a bright smile on his face. The fans laugh at the joke while the official untangles the embarrassed luchadore. Infuriated by Williams’ crowd pleasing jest, Mags blindly charges the Champion, who casually dips his head and flips him over his shoulder. Clearing the ropes, Mags lands on the outside with a thud, prompting Williams to take position on the far side of the ring. Knowing what’s on Danny’s mind, the delighted fans make some serious noise. Leaning into the ropes, Williams launches himself across the ring. Picking up an alarming amount of speed, Williams dives through the ropes with surgical precision, nailing the rising challenger with a jaw smashing Elbow Suicida! The powerful blow sends Mags crashing into the guardrail, than the floor. The surreal sight of seeing such a large man perform such a graceful move sends the crowd into hysterics, no wander Williams is such a star.

 

Pete: The challenger is in serious trouble!

 

King: Not as much trouble as he would have been had Williams slammed that forearm into his busted ribs.

 

Pete: You’ve seen enough Williams’ matches to know by now that he doesn’t need to fall back on such crutches.

 

King: Bull! Everybody gets desperate and now that he’s defending the title, Williams will learn that lesson soon enough.

 

Suspending the near dead challenger over his head, Williams press slams Magnifico back inside for more punishment. The throw is strikingly precise, dropping Mags directly on his lower back, that’s not an accident. Holding his back, Mags tries to crawl to safety but Williams is already on top of him. Dragging the luchadore to his feet, Williams grabs a rear waistlock and snaps back! The German Suplex drives Magnifico’s upper back into the mat, compacting his body like a crushed coke can. Balancing his body weight on nothing but the top of his head and his tippy toes, Williams maintains the bridge with uncanny elegance for a man his size, pinning Mangifico’s shoulders for the pin.

 

 

One!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

NO! As well executed as the German was it’s not nearly enough to put away the battle tested luchadore in the opening minutes. However, Magnifico does appear to be in pretty rough shape. Staring down at the quivering mess before him, Williams decides it’s time to take this one home. Winding up his arm, Williams brings the entire arena to their feet. Standing poised and ready on the far side of the ring, Williams anxiously waits for the moment to strike. It never comes as Magnifico aimlessly rolls around on the canvas, showing no interest in making it back to his feet in the near future. Letting out a frustrated “bah”, Williams throws up his hands and angrily marches onto the scene. Grabbing Mags by his long messy hair, Williams guides the drowsy challenger to his feet. Drawing back his massive arm, Williams fires the....

 

Pete: Axe Bomber!

 

but it’s dodged! Maneuvering around the would be fatal blow with swiftness that suggests his drunken mannerisms was nothing but a ruse, Mags attempts an Armbar Takedown!

 

King: Crafty move from Magnifico!

 

The struggle is immense but in vain, no matter how hard Mags pulls, Williams isn’t going anywhere he doesn’t want to. Drawing a mixture of chuckles and cheers from the crowd, Williams calmly waves a finger in Mags’ face before muscling him to the mat with a powerful hiptoss! Wincing, Mags hustles to his feet only to find Williams firing the Axe Bomber he intended to land earlier.

 

Pete: Here it comes!

 

But it’s blocked! The impact floors Magnifico but he’s in much better shape than he’d be in if the deadly strike had landed. Crying out in pain, Williams stumbles around, tightly cradling his throbbing arm. Rushing behind the occupied Champion, Mags hurls Williams overhead with a maliciously angled German! Landing hard on the back of his skull, Williams limply rolls all the way back to his feet with the momentum, his once passionate blue eyes now vacant and glazed. Tumbling backwards, the rubber legged Champion spills over the top rope at an awkward angle, tangling his right arm in the top and second rope! Revived from the pain, Williams howls as he painfully hangs from the hurt limb.

 

Pete: What a horrible turn of luck for the Champion!

 

King: But what an excellent break for the challenger, pun intended.

 

Worried that he may have a serious injury on his hands, Soapdish frantically struggles to untie the helpless Champion when Magnifico comes flying in out of nowhere, slamming his boots into Williams’ damaged arm! The well aimed dropkick connects with bone crunching force but on the bright side it does knock Danny’s arm loose. Free, Williams drops to the floor, takes a few steps and collapses.

 

Pete: Heavens, he may have broken Williams’ arm!

 

King: Now that’s what you do when you got a man tied up in the ropes.

 

Mags’ devious actions earns him a nice negative reaction but he could care less. Knowing that Williams could be seriously injured, Soapdish administers a stern warning to Mags before rushing to the outside. Inspecting Danny’s tender arm, Soapdish comes to the conclusion that it isn’t broken but seriously fucked up. Pale and shaking, Williams refuses aid, insisting that he can go on, if Mags wants his title he’s gonna have to pin him in the ring. Not having enough grounds for a stoppage, Soapdish has no choice but to let the Champion have his way. Soapdish slides into the ring while Williams painfully climbs on the apron, where Mags is waiting with a devious grin. Temporarily blinding the Champion with a villainous eye rake, Mags grabs him by his thick wrist and runs him to the nearest corner. Leaping onto the top turnbuckle with a cat like spring, Mags jumps to the floor, snapping Williams’ arm across the steel cable of the turnbuckle! In to much pain to even scream, Williams simply grabs the busted appendage and crumbles, falling from the apron and tumbling to the floor.

 

King: What a creative move that was, so do you still think attacking the arm is a bad idea?

 

Pete: His methods are questionable but there’s no denying that he’s doing some serious damage to that arm.

 

Dusting himself off, Mags angrily pursues his ailing rival. He’s got a grudge to settle with that arm and he’ll be damned if it makes a fool of him again. Jerking the ailing Champion to his feet, Mags rolls him back into the ring for more abuse. Following his victim with a sinister grin, Mags confidently guides the champion to a vertical base. Danny’s arm and shoulder is a mess, there’s no way it can pose a threat to him now. Standing toe to toe with the Champion, Mags tries his luck with a stinging knife edge chop! Williams wobbles without returning fire, encouraging the luchadore to try another! It connects with a loud smack but this one doesn’t go unanswered! A sudden elbow smash answers back, knocking the unsuspecting luchadore into the ropes!

 

King: Impossible!

 

Pete: Williams’ arm has been beat from pillar to post but his heart keeps on pounding.

 

The wounded Champion lets out a fearsome battle cry, a defiant challenge to the luchadore who thought he disabled him. Leaning against the ropes, Mags rubs his jaw, staring at Williams with disbelief and frustration. What does he have to do to make this guy stop elbowing him? Even though his arm is in unending agony, Williams beckons the luchadore to step up and face him. Mags is a little unnerved by but he’s not gonna let Williams absorb his arm offense and overtake him again. Thinking that there’s now way Danny’s arm can have that much more power left it in, Mags steps up to the plate. Intrigued by the pending rumble, the fans start to come to their feet and make some noise. The two exchange hateful glares, as more and more people rise until everyone in the building is standing and screaming.

 

Pete: It’s on now!

 

Drawing first blood, the aggressive luchadore slices Danny’s chest with a loud chop! But Williams sucks up the pain and returns fire with another elbow from his bad arm! Shaken up by incredibly hard shot, Mags desperately directs his next strike to the arm itself! With a disturbing thump, Mag’s boot connects stiffly with the outside angle of Williams’ arm! But Danny is far too pissed and stubborn to let that stop him from doing what he does best! Another brutal elbow staggers the magnificent one! And still another kick answers back! But Williams still scores with one more elbow! This one has a lot of starch behind it, rocking Mags hard! Fearing that he’s fighting a losing battle, Mags does what any cornered man would do, go absolutely nuts! Going into berserker mode, Mags slams an endless flurry of rapid fire kicks into Danny’s busted arm! To the shock and horror of the fans, Williams caves in under the relentless violent attack, letting Mags score with unanswered kick after kick!

 

Pete: By falling back on the injury crutch, Mags has maliciously gained the upper hand of this brawl!

 

King: It’s not like Williams couldn’t direct one of those elbows to Mags’ ribs.

 

Backing into the corner, Williams slumps to the canvas in agony but no relief comes as Mags continues the assault, stomping and kicking the arm like he’s putting out a fire. Since you can’t hit a man while he’s on the ropes, Soapdish steps in, ordering Mags to knock it off! Mags refuses, forcing Soapdish to loudly count in his ear. Knowing what will happen if Soapdish get’s past three, Mags pulls himself away, leaving Williams to wallow in his misery. Disapproving of Mags’ dastardly but effective methods, the fans let him have it with a barrage of “boos.”

 

Pete: Williams doesn’t beat people because their injured, he beats them because he’s better.

 

King: Being better has nothing to do with winning. Do you really think I was a better wrestler or a better athlete than most of the guys I faced?

 

Pete: No, you were a damn cheater who got further than you had any right to get.

 

King: You say that like it’s a bad thing. Unlike you, I achieved Pete. Look at me, a scrawny non athlete, no wrestler, and I’ve won more matches than your big muscle head ass can count.

 

Soapdish checks on Williams, who insists he can go on. Feeling that he’s giving Danny a long enough break, Magnifico inserts him onto the scene and pushes Soapdish aside. Snatching Williams up by his battered arm, Mags sadistically applies an arm wrench before whipping him out of the corner. With a loud boom, Williams goes shoulder first into the turnbuckles of the cross corner, hitting them so hard that he leaves his feet and sails over the ropes. Not content with letting Danny suffer on the outside alone, Mags pursues his foe with a vengeance. He’s tried to keep his emotions in check but he’s sick and tried of eating elbows. Hell bent on taking Williams’ arm from him at all costs, Mags forces the Champions up by his lengthy brown hair and cruelly bends his arm into a chickenwing. Getting a good running start, Mags brutally shoves the elbow of Williams’ captured arm into the ring post! In untold agony, Williams goes down yet again, trickles of dark blood can be seen forming on his arm. The front roll fans vent their disgust but Mags brushes their taunts off and goes back to work. Forcing Williams up into another chickenwing, Mags sadistically takes him for another jog, punctuating it with a slam into the guardrail, crushing Williams’ bloodied arm into the steel! Still not satisfied, Mags laces Williams’ arm around the guardrail, forcing it to unnaturally bend against the steel. The blood freely flows like a raging river, causing the nearby fans to cover their mouths in a desperate attempt at holding back the rising vomit in their throats. Williams tears and claws at Mag with his free arm but the pain is so consuming it zaps his strength to resist.

 

Pete: This is sickening.

 

King: I can see why you never won the title, you don’t have the stomach for it.

 

Pete: If you’re a real winner you shouldn’t have to critically damage someone’s livelihood to pick up the win. It’s a repulsive short cut that far too many people in our beloved sport carelessly walk down to get an easy victory.

 

Even though he would love to continue dismantling the most feared arm in the business, Mags knows he’s running out of time. Making sure that Williams doesn’t go anywhere, Mags executes a nasty Montezuma’s Revenge, slamming the champion’s chin into his jaw while simultaneously driving his blood dripping under arm into the steel! Sliding back into the ring, Mags stops the count and goes back out. Marching to his corner, Mags hoists the Mexican flag in the air. He eyes it in contemplation but his mind was already made up when he grabbed it, he has to make sure Williams’ can’t land the Axe Bomber again. The fans boo the flag but Mags plans to do more than merely mock the fans with it, he wants to make damn sure that Danny’s elbow won’t cause him any more problems. Holding the pointy end of the pole in front of him like a lance, Mags charges at full speed, grotesquely plunging it into the open wound on Williams’ captured arm! Blood geysers from the wound, making the already queasy fans fight back more vomit.

 

Pete: For Pete’s sake! This is gone to far, Mags should be disqualified!

 

King: Completely disabling a limb isn’t easy, sometimes weapons are necessary. Though I do agree, he shouldn’t do it out in the open like that, I would have found a way to divert the ref’s attention.

 

Pete: Not since the infamous crucifixion of Chris Wilson have we seen Mag’s desecrate his home country’s flag in such disgusting fashion.

 

King: That’s how bad he wants the title, Pete.

 

Outraged, Soapdish darts to the outside, grabbing Mags by his thick mane of hair, using it to pry him off the blood spewing Champion.

 

Totally repulsed by Mag’s unprovoked actions, Soapdish goes off his rocker,”What the hell is a matter with you? Get him in the ring or I’ll stop this match right now!”

 

Remembering that he has a title to win, Mags comes to his senses and drops the crimson stained flag pole. With the aid of Danny’s hair and tights, Mags easily rolls the pale Champion into the ring. This gives the entire arena a good view of the gore, drawing a huge collection of gasps and squirms. Williams’ entire arm is red with blood, pouring and pooling everywhere he crawls. It’s not easy seeing their hero in such poor shape, in fact it’s almost too much for some fans to take. Wanting to do anything they can to pull Williams through this dire situation, the fans rally behind him with a ear bleeding chant.

 

“DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E!”

 

Mags thinks of a time when he heard thousands of loyal fans calling his name but those days are gone, chants never helped him and they won’t help Williams. When your in the ring, your in the ring alone. He wants to scream at each and every one of them, telling them that their chants will do Danny no good but he remains focused on the task at hand, he can’t let those insignificant observers throw him from his game plan. Staying on Danny’s tail, Mags reaches down and helps him the rest of the way up when a desperation elbow finds it’s mark! It knocks Mags goofy but the consequences of using the damaged arm prove to be greater than Williams anticipated. Recovering from the strike, Mags finds Williams doubled over in unbearable pain that he can’t imagine. Ceasing the opportunity by the balls, Magnficio swiftly sweeps Williams up for a Body Slam but instead of following through, he simply sits out! Trapped between the luchadore’s skinny legs, the top of Williams’ head compresses into the canvas with spine shattering impact! Stretching forward, Magnifico hooks one of Williams’ well developed legs for the pin.

 

Pete: The Dia de los Muertos!

 

King: And the crutch pays off!

 

Nearly every jaw in the house hits the floor as Soapdish slides to the canvas and starts what will no doubt be the longest count in history.

 

 

 

One!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...................

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-NO!

 

 

Williams shoots a shoulder off the canvas, bringing the crowd back from the dead. Smacking his open hand across the mat, Magnifico curses Soapdish with all his might, accusing the official of counting slow. Standing by his decision, Soapdish raises two fingers in Magnifico’s face, sending the luchadore into a temper tantrum.

 

King: That was a very slow count but that’s not surprising since this is Soapdish, the exact same official that practically handed Danny the title two weeks ago.

 

Pete: Williams won the title with sheer guts and determination, the same things he’s using to hold onto it as we speak.

 

Breathing hard, Mags feels a burning pain in his chest and sides as his ribs inhale and exhale. Calming down, Mags reminds himself that Williams kicked out of the Thunder Driver before and it really shouldn’t come as a big surprise that he survived it again. However, it will be interesting to see if he can survive a second one. The crowd is so loud that Mags can’t help but rain on their parade. Extending an index finger to the fans, Magnifico shouts, “One more time!” Reaching down, Mags tries to scoop Williams up but the heavy Champion resists. Intent on stunning Williams again, Mags slices his arm with some hard chops, causing the Champion to cry out in pain. Acting quickly, Mags scoops him up before he can sandbag again! But the massive 270 pounder makes himself dead weight and the pectorally challenged luchadore can’t keep him up! Falling backwards both men tumble to the mat, collapsing in a heap of humanity with Williams on top for the pin. Delighted by this turn of events, the fans heat up with hopeful cheers.

 

 

“One!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Two!”

 

 

 

 

Kicking and squirming, Magnifico just barely pushes Williams off his flattened chest. Normally the fans would be disappointed by the kick out but they stay hot as Mags appears to be in extreme anguish. Wearing a tight pained expression on his wrinkled face, Mags cradles his sternum and sides as he struggles to get on his feet. Sitting up, Williams tries to shake away the cobwebs from the first Driver in addition to get some feeling back in his arm. In need of some recovery time, Mags quickly hatches a plan to keep Williams down. Forcing himself to stand, Mags rushes to the seated Champion, slamming his boots into his arm with a low Dropkick! The desperation move sends Williams into spasms of pain, angering the untold thousands who wanted to see him gain some momentum from the reversal!

 

Pete: Without the arm injury, Mags wouldn’t stand a chance against Williams.

 

 

King: Which is exactly why he’s exploiting it so much you dummy.

 

Once the pain in his ribs ceases, Mags hastily goes back to work on Williams, who is seated on the ropes, struggling to get his blood dripping arm working again. Not forgetting what brought him to the dance, Mags goes right back to the arm with a smacking cowboy kick! Shooting his head up, Williams stares at Mags with raging volcanic blue eyes. He’s in pain but he’s also very very angry. How many times is it now that some lazy bastard has tried to cheat him out of a win by trying to break his arm? Is this really the only way they think they can beat him, by trying to end his career? Somewhat frightened by the intensity in Danny’s face, Mags tries to snub out the fire with an even harder kick, but it only makes the Champion madder. Rising to his feet, Williams snorts and puffs, seemingly oblivious to the dark streams of blood spewing from his arm. Jubilating at the possibility of Mags’ getting his just deserts, the crowd starts to heat up faster than a t.v. dinner.

 

Pete: Uh oh, I think Williams has had enough of Mags’ arm attacks.

 

Mags tries another kick but it proves to be the final ingredient in sending the normally passive Champion over the edge! Turning Mags to the ropes, a growling Williams digs into his ribs with some heavy mean spirited knee lifts! Unable to withstand the bone crushing barrage very long, Mags sinks to the canvas, curling up in the fetal position. This doesn’t stop Williams from soccer kicking his taped ribs until he bails to the floor. Pumped up by this satisfying act of revenge, the blood splattered Williams roars like a wild beast. Liking what they see, the crowd goes completely ballistic!

 

King: Some hero! He’s just like anybody else, when his back against the wall he’ll sink to whatever low it takes to gain the upper hand.

 

Pete: Every man has his breaking point, King. We haven’t really examined this from Williams’ view point, can you imagine what it must be like to have people trying to end your career every other night? This is an act of vengeance not desperation.

 

King: Like that’s suppose to be any better. Either way, this is a victory for Mags. He got Williams to break his code of honor and do something he hasn’t done since he returned with his new attitude.

 

Keeping his arm tucked into his side in some sort of imaginary cast, Williams drops down to the floor in hot pursuit. Pitifully dragging himself on his forearms, the barely there Magnifico makes a sad attempt at escape but Williams easily catches up with him. Memories of Mag’s relentless assault on his arm through Williams’ head, giving the Champion a good idea of what he wants to do. Helping the luchadore to his feet, Williams positions him for what appears to be a Northern Lights Suplex but instead of executing the bridge he runs Magnifico backwards, driving him into guardrail with a loud clank! Leaving Mags crushed and hung out to dry, Williams makes his way over to the blood spattered Mexican flag. With visions of Mags’ despicable assault running through his head, Williams grabs the flag and holds it over his head. Knowing what he’s up to, the fans let him know that they full heartedly approve. Not wanting this again, Soapdish cuts Williams off only to be casually pushed aside. Angrily stomping over to Mags, Williams extends the flag in front of him, aiming it for the ribs of his helpless target. Getting a good run start, Williams draws back the flag back and......

 

stops a couple of feet short of his target. In deep contemplation, the statuesque Champion freezes in his tracks, staring at the flag with great confusion. The puzzled fans egg him on, reminding him that he’s justified in running the rudo bastard through. A confused look forms on Williams’ face, he loves his fans and he would do anything for them but if he crosses this line he wouldn’t be any better than the pitiful lost soul before him. Examining the flag once more, Williams comes to the conclusion that this isn’t who he is. He never was really, even back in the JL when he refused to attack Sydney Sky in the final minutes of the Iron Man as blood poured from her nose, her mouth, and her ears. Even as she attacked him with what little strength she had left, he had the match won and to go any further would be senseless. This is how he feels now, he made his point, he turned the tide of the match, there’s nothing left to do but win it. The disappointed fans sigh as Williams puts the flag aside, so what they’ll get over it. Grabbing the agonizing luchadore with his good hand, Williams runs him off the guardrail and tosses him back into the ring!

 

Pete: I guess there was some truth in Magnifico’s words, always giving the fans what they want may not always be what’s best for you.

 

Sliding back into the ring, Williams is greeted by a meek ovation from the few who understand what he just did. It catches on as more and more realize that Danny did the right thing, even those who disagree understand his viewpoint and clap anyway. Williams is a hero to these people, if they don’t understand who he is and why he does the things he does than who will?

 

King: Are you kidding? Listen to these morons, I think he gave them exactly what they wanted.

 

Pere: Or perhaps Williams just changed their way of thinking.

 

King: That wouldn’t be hard, do you know how easy it is to train a simple minded monkey? Just as Spike Jenkins, he’ll tell you all about it.

 

Pete: Yuk, I hope I’m the only one who understands that reference.

 

With Soapdish back in the ring, Williams raises his arms over his head, calling for his beloved Powerbomb. Shaking just the faintest feeling back into his arm, Williams wraps his massive meat hooks around Magnifico’s frail heavily tapped waist. Normally the Powerbomb would be academic but his weakened arm has made what used tobe an easy lift much more difficult than it should be. Still, there is so much adrenaline pumping through the veins of the fired up Champion that the blood loss isn’t a big factor at the moment. To the accompaniment of resounding cheers, Williams strenuously lifts Magnifico onto his broad shoulders! With a quick snap, Williams delivers a crushing Powerbomb so hard that the unlucky bastard in the cheapest of the cheap seats can feel the tremors! Leaning forward on his tippy toes, Williams holds the broken luchadore down for the pin.

 

 

 

“One!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Two!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.......................

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Suddenly, Williams feels what appears to be human teeth sinking into the blood crusted wound on his shoulder and arm! It stings as if someone plunged a hot piece of iron into the wound, causing the Champion to jump backwards and abort the pin. Getting a clear view of Mags gnawing on Williams’ arm like a rabid dog, the fans react with repulsion and anger!

 

Pete: How disgusting, Williams gave Mags a break and this is his reward.

 

King: You can’t fault the guy for wanting to win the match.

 

Thrashing about the mat, the nerve endings deep within Williams’ arm awake from the penetrating bite, inflicting a great deal of torment upon him. Spiting out the blood he unintentionally drew from the wound, Mags staggers to his feet only to awkwardly collapse on his bottom, a side effect of the brutal Powerbomb. Putting his pain aside, Williams stomps after the seemingly helpless Magnifico only to be taking down by a double leg pick up. Snarling like a blood thirsty animal, Mags once again digs teeth into the wound, setting Williams’ arm ablaze with pain.

 

Pete: This is pathetic!

 

King: I bet Williams wishes he still had that flag right now.

 

Soapdish tries to intervene but Williams has already solved the problem himself by angrily shoving Mags’ off his chest. Rolling to his feet, Williams tenses the muscles in his bloodied arm, making it into a solid rock of muscle. The pain is intense but Williams can tolerate it if it means putting Mags out of his misery for good. Still woozy, Mags uses the ropes of a nearby corner to drag himself upright. Channeling his rage into his massive arm, Williams charges for the Axe Bomber! But Magnifico ducks! Unable to stop the destructive power he’s unleashed, Williams swings his arm into the unforgiven steel of the ring post! The lariat that would have decapitated Magnifico without question nearly dislodges the ring from it’s location! In too much pain to even scream, Williams slumps in the corner. Mags breathes a sigh of relief when to his horror, Williams comes bolting out of the corner at him, mangled arm at all......

 

But the fast thinking Luchadore takes Williams over his shoulder with a crisp arm drag! Much to the dismay of the crowd, Mags drops to the canvas, scissoring the captured arm in a familiar hold the fans know to fear!

 

Pete: The Cross Armbreaker!

 

King: Teeth are nice but nothing beats out some good o fashioned brains.

 

Pete: Williams conquered this demon from his past earlier in the summer against Mak Francis but tonight I just don’t know, his arm has been absolutely ravaged and it’s doubtful it can withstand much more.

 

As can be expected, Mags doesn’t hold back, his intentions are the same as they were earlier, he’s not looking for a little pain he wants to do some un-repairable damage. Pulling back as far as he can, Mags struggles to hyper extend the strong hunk of flesh and bone in his clutches. The wound on Danny’s shoulder stretches with the pressure, opening it up even further spilling out what looks to be gallons upon gallons of fresh dark blood. Williams screams, unable to see the damage himself he imagines Magnifico snapping his arm in two, a mess of gore, broken bones and tendons spewing everywhere. Than like some sort of Mexican Beowulf, Mags triumphantly prances about the ring, carrying the arm around and making bad puns like “Sure I needed a helping hand to win the title.” Realizing that this isn’t likely to happen, Williams thoughts shift to the more realistic. Thoughts of failure, the sorrowful look of his fans as the announcement of his submission is made. How could he live with himself if he gave up the title for a forth time? Not after so much hard work, not after so much sacrifice, to give up now would be to go back into retirement for good. By the time Soapdish can pop the question, Williams is already screaming...

 

“Noooooooooooooooooo!”

 

Moved by Danny’s defiance, the fans spring back to life with cheers and whistles! With the encouraging shouts of his fans ringing in his ears, Williams kicks and sways, stretching his free hand towards the ropes. His finger tips the grace salvation when Mags releases his arm and drags him back a couple of feet. The luchadore cruelly reapplies the hold while screaming,”Tap! Tap! Tap!” This is a huge blow to not only Williams but the fans, who are in complete turmoil The tendons in Williams’ arm begin to stretch to the breaking point for real. Psychologically broken, Williams begins to think that submitting won’t be such a bad idea, he can still have a career if he gives up now, people will be disappointed but they’ll understand, his arm had been run through a meat grinder for crying out loud. Mags is just willing to waltz into dark places Williams would rather not venture, if he has to follow him into those depths to keep the title than maybe it’s for the best if he loses it. Giving in to pain and disillusion, Williams stretches his hand out, not to reach the ropes but for the tap.

 

King: It looks like this is gonna be the year of Magnifico! The arm started off as means of defense but now it’s turned into a path to victory.

 

But before Williams can make the commitment, he hears a familiar sound. Faint at first but it builds and builds, gradually surrounding him.

 

“DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E!”

 

How could he have forgotten about the fans, the people Magnifico thinks are worthless. But now that he can hear their hope and desperation in their voices, Williams realizes he’s not just wrestling for himself. It’s much easier to quit when you think your actions only effect you but when there are others that depend on you, things become much more complicated. If this was an empty arena, he would have quit right than and there but it’s not, it’s stack full of people who have come to see him defend the richest prize in the sport with his last breath. Grinding his teeth to hold back screams, Williams digs his nails into the canvas and pulls, dragging himself and his captor back to the ropes! This time, Williams doesn’t come up short, as motivated as he his, the Champion could drag Magnifico across the entire state if had to.

 

Pete: He made the ropes! It’s not over yet, King!

 

Refusing to admit defeat, Magnifico keeps the hold applied but the tired and annoyed official tells him he isn’t even gonna count anymore. Not wanting to get d.q.ed when he can taste victory as sure as he can taste Danny’s blood on his lips, Magnifico angrily releases the hold with a snort. Keeping his hands locked around the wide wrist of Williams, Mags jerks from the ropes and walks him to the center of the ring. From there, he twists the arm around and snaps it over his shoulder with a grisly Armbreaker! Letting out a short cry of pain, Williams drops to his knees in agony but he doesn’t stay down. Refusing to yield to Magnifico any longer, Williams heroically rises in defiance, curling his arm as if he’s still struggling to land the same Axe Bomber that was thwarted minutes ago. Determined to bring Danny back down, Mags snatches back the busted limb, wrenching it with another Armbreaker! Hearing Williams’ cry out once more, Mags spins around expecting to find the Champion cowering in pain!

 

WHAAAM!

 

Going head over heels, Mags corkscrews in the air before crash landing on the canvas!

 

Pete: Axebombaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!

 

The excitement of seeing the fabled strike finally connect sends the fans leaping out of their chairs and turning cartwheels! Mags is out like a light but Williams can’t make the cover. The pain is searing, worse than anything Danny’s ever felt before. He starts to think it was a bad idea to land the Lariat until he spots Mags lying lifelessly on his back, a reminder that his sacrifice was not in vain. Frantic, the fans motion for Williams to go for the cover but he’s simply too weak to worry about it right now. The blood loss hasn’t just took a toll on his arm but his whole body, draining him of his overall strength, physically he has nothing left.

 

Pete: Of all the muscles in Williams’ body, his heart is most likely the biggest Though his arm was mangled and bloodied, he still put everything he had into that lariat.

 

Shell shocked, Mags sits up with a somber look on his tired old face. If he remembered what happened he would probably be losing his mind, to learn that all his arm offense had been in vain would no doubt be a psychological blow to great to come back from.

 

King: But look who’s up first. Williams didn’t do nothing but more damage to his arm.

 

However the fans start chanting again and sure enough Williams hears their pleas. Raising his head off the mat, Williams turns to find Magnifico crawling his way up the ropes, one rung at a time. When he tries to reach his feet, Williams finds that his arm has gone numb. It’s good that he can’t feel pain but how can he control something he can’t feel? Grabbing the limp pile of flesh with his good arm, Williams shakes and pounds his dead arm into the canvas, struggling to wake it up before Mags can come to his senses. Not having any fans to drive him, Mags takes his own sweet time in reaching his feet, giving Danny some long much needed seconds to recover. Now able to wiggle his fingers, Williams flexes and bends his arm until it can do it on it’s own. Ripping off his elbow pad, Williams dramatically winds up his arm, letting the relieved fans know he’s ready.

 

Pete: It doesn’t matter how much damage is done to that arm, King, Williams will keep charging until he has nothing but a stump.

 

Now on his feet, Mags turns from the ropes and with clumsily coordination stumbles into the center of the ring when Williams comes rocketing forward....

 

 

but a superkick catches Williams’ right in the joint of his arm, stopping the Champion dead in his tracks! But it’s only temporary as Williams sucks up the pain and charges once more...

 

 

when a desperation dropkick bashes his outstretched arm! Grabbing his blood gushing arm, Williams blows back into the ropes but he’s far from done. Refusing to be stopped, Williams prepares for another charge. Knowing that Williams is on his way, Magnifico swiftly returns to his feet with a kip up, just in time to see the Champion bulleting off the ropes at him!

 

........

 

Another Dropkick saves Mags from decapitation! Breathing hard and exhausted, Mags hustles to his feet the old fashioned way, but he only makes it as far as his knees when....

 

WHAAAAM!

 

a diving Danny Williams nails him in the face with the second Axe Bomber of the night! An explosion of cheers erupts as Williams finally breaks through Magnifico’s defenses! Still on his knees, Mags’ torso gruesomely bends backwards at an unnatural angle before snapping forward like a mousetrap, driving his face into the canvas!

 

“Ooooooooooooooooooooooooh!” groans the fans with half smiles. Sure it’s brutal but there’s no denying that Mags had it coming.

 

Danny’s arm goes numb again but he got what he wanted out of it. With one arm, Williams rolls Mags broken carcass over and weakly crawls on top of him. The suspense is unbearable for the fans who fear that Williams may have took too much time or that Mags could get his boot on the nearby ropes.

 

 

“One!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Two!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.................

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

 

Soapdish calls for the bell and all hell breaks loose in the stands!

 

 

Ding! Ding! Ding!

 

 

Rolling off Magnifico, Williams rests on his back, staring up at the glowing arena lights above him, basking in the cheers of the fans. His arm is a mess but it’s a sacrifice worth making, he got his message across loud and clear, he’s the Champion and he’s here to stay this time. The arm is unbreakable. You couldn’t write a better happy ending for the fans in the audience, this has truly been a special night they won’t forget.

 

Pete: What a magical career defining performance from Danny Williams, the true irresistible force. With the crowd on his side, he overcame a horrific arm injury to run over an aggressive Magnifico, who may want to reconsider his viewpoints after tonight.

 

King: Just remember, Williams wouldn’t have to over come crap if he went for the ribs at the start and stayed with it.

 

Pete: Maybe so but where would the glory be in that?

 

King: The glory of saving yourself a monster ass kicking.

 

Pete: Fans we would like to thank you for joining us on this historical night, for without you we are nothing.

 

King: Speak for yourself round boy.

 

Soapdish hands the belt to Williams, who gratefully accepts it. This hunk of tin cost him a lot of blood tonight but it wasn’t just for some cheap most likely fool’s gold that he gave so much for. Even though he doesn’t have that much remaining strength, Williams gives the fans what they want to see. Standing up on his own, Williams painfully raises the belt with his bad arm in a symbolic gesture of total victory. He barely has the strength to keep the belt up but he holds it up long enough for some photo opportunities. The fans are equally grateful, they understand how much Williams gave for them tonight and they thank him for his memorable performance with roof raising applause. The cameras fade but not on the World Champion but the epic crowd that were just as responsible for making the event so special.

[Coffin Surfer 0]

Test, post not showing up.

[Angel_Grace_Blue 0]

I haven't read Ward's match, yet, but Mike did ask me for a second opinion on ELM/Danny, so I'll say what I thought about that match.

 

Your match was really good, Danny, but, and I'm only speaking for myself, the spelling/grammar errors bugged me a bit. I know, it's about wrestling, but I get a little irked when the wrong your/you're or their/there/they're is used. Also, and once again, just the ramblings of an insane person (And I'm not too familiar with the Danny character, as it seems before this recent return, he was around during the time that I forgot the fed existed, or whatever), but it was like once Mags had damaged his right arm, Danny basically said "Well, I suppose I'll forget I can even use my left arm to club ELM with".

 

I did really enjoy the stabulation, though. And Mags goind all Tyson/Dahmer was nifty. Overall, it was a damn fine read, but there were little things (Like I said, mostly the mechanics) that took it down.

 

LE BOURTE!

[zyon 0]

I would really like comments, especially from Jay Hawke and Superstar. To be honest this is the best match I've written in the SWF, but I think it dragged a bit myself.

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

 

The anticipation homogeneously fogs the atmosphere as numerous fans in Madison Square Garden has refused to sit down. The action has simply been that amazing with the crowning of a SWF World Heavyweight champion number one contender and an insane battle inside a little (toy) shop of horrors. But now the crowd could be in for a wrestling lesson they will never forget, or maybe something unique may just happen.

 

Then again both is quite possible as well.

 

“This next match has been building shortly after our last PPV Ground Zero, which is out on DVD now.” Longdoggah Pete chimes in on some product placement.

 

“Yep and tonight the two young stars located on opposite sides of the galaxy will be facing off in THAT VERY RING. I’d bet my boat that Jay Hawke’s extraordinary technical wrestling ability will be too much for Zyon’s lack of wrestling ability.” King makes a good point before going into his biasness.

 

But Pete has a different position, “Of course, Suicide King. Zyon has proven over the weeks that his unorthodox, energetic style can get the job done just as well or hell maybe even better than Hawke’s technical style.

 

“WHAA!” King spits out all the water he just gulped down simply cause of the craziness of that kind of statement, “You know what, forget it. It’s quite obvious that your statement alone proves that cocaine is indeed one hell of a drug. Face it the professor is going to win simply cause he is Jay Hawke, Bitch!” King is indeed the super freak.

 

Before Pete can fire back with his biased opinion the camera straight up zooms in on the man, the myth, the SWF ring announcer…Funyon.

 

Does he have a first name????

 

“This next match is scheduled for one fall and has a SIXXXXTY MINUTE TIME LIMIT. It will be for the SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE WORLD!!!

 

Damn Funyon has been booming all night. Genesis this is.

 

I’M BORN!

 

I’M ALIVE!

 

I BREATHE!!!

 

“YEAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”

 

The crowd explodes from a standing position, which means that the thousands in attendance leaped into the air making the “wave” look like child’s play. The familiar wording randomly lights across the omega expensive Genesis PPV set that includes an imitation version of New York City with a night time background. The large building are all lit up inside with the bright yellow immolating from bulbs that cost more than a New York pizza…yeah its that much. Below the set are computer designed citizens celebrating everything from money, attractions, and most of all…LIFE! Suddenly confetti drops from the heavens blinding many in the arena with the colors of green, blue, pink, and purple.

 

And then it happens.

 

Emerging from the over the top entrance is the number one contender to the International title. Mid length water drenched brown hair hangs just above the youth’s eyes giving the youngster a hybrid metal/punk look. Ensembled in a brand new white t-shirt with a crimson red “Z” branded on the front. As Zyon energetically skips in place his black cargo shorts hang slightly below his knees before waving violently side to side as the Unique one sprints down to the ring.

 

“Introducing first the challenger. Hailing from Elkhart, Indiana, and weighing in at 200lbs the UNIQUE YOUTH, ZYYYYYYONNN!!!!!!

 

“WOOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd lets out an excited howl as Zyon smacks the hands of desperate fans looking to touch their young hero. The break out rookie leaps charismatically on the ring apron before flipping over the top rope and immediately freaking out via the head bang arm raise combo that has become a regular in Zyon’s entrance.

 

“The kid looks ready. Ever since Zyon won the hardcore title many wondered where he would go next. Tonight the train carrying Zyon’s career takes a stop at Jay Hawke, and his International title…” Pete shills.

 

The crowd cheers on the challenger who retreats back into the corner nervously stretching out…

 

“BOOOOOO!!!!”

 

That can only mean the start of “Learning to Fly,” as the confetti continues to fall endlessly from the sky. The dramatics and theatrics are cut down greatly as the International Champion emerges in a specially designed gold and purple robe covering his athletic figure. The brash champion calmly walks down to the ring staring directly at Zyon ignoring what has become a staple in your common Jay Hawke match…

 

“JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!”

 

The crowd sounds delighted to jeer Jay Hawke, but somewhere under the hatred the fans may actually be respecting the International champ…then again its probably just because he’s a Jets fan.

 

“Introducing...from the Hall of Fame City of Cleveland, Ohio, and weighing in at 215 pounds...he is "The Dean of Professional Wrestling,” and the current SWF International Champion, JAY HAWKEEEE!!!!!”

 

Funyon yells giving the champion a grand description. The spotlight that usually accompanies Hawke’s strut to the ring shadows the champ who walks up the steel steps and wipes his feet off on the ring apron…

 

“Hawk is bringing it back old school tonight. Do us proud Jay!” King shouts.

 

Jay Hawke enters the ring slightly expecting the youth to charge in for a cheap shot, but is surprised when Zyon doesn’t make a move. Disrobing Hawke talks trash toward his opponent as the International title is revealed from under the glossy robe. The Dean unbuckles the belt that he has made HIS and hands it to the ref.

 

But not before giving the title a Bret Hart like smooch sending it away for what could be minutes, days, or years.

 

“Well this is it. Weeks of in ring and out of ring hatred has built up. It’s Nu SkoOl vs. Old School. It’s technical vs. spot worker. It is Zyon vs. Jay Hawke!” Pete announces very well like he has been all night.

 

And King has also been impressive, “That is right Longdoggah. Hawke is looking to once again show the world why he is the best International champion ever. And Zyon well the poor kid should only hope to last more than three minutes against the god of technical wrestling.”

 

Jay Hawke has put the trash talking to a halt as referee Nick Soapdish waits patiently for the celebratory confetti to stop, the music to end, and the costly lights in Madison Square Garden to focus on the rivals unblinkingly staring each other down. The crowd can only dream of an undercard match with this type of hype.

 

Tonight it becomes a reality.

 

DING DING DING!!!!

 

Zyon immediately proves to the critics that he has indeed stepped his game up for this match by simply walking out of his corner rather than blindly sprinting toward his stationary opponent. The arrogant International champ also looks a bit on edge, but soon breaks the anticipation with a simple extension of his hand????

 

“My god does he expect Zyon to fall for this again?” Pete wonders.

“Well he’s just about fell for everything else.” King answers the question, kind of.

 

Zyon looks on stunned as the crowd rapidly chants,

 

“Don’t Do It!!!”

 

Then again maybe the snakelike assassin that is the Dean could sincerely wish his opponent the best of luck. Sadly this is the thought that crosses the rookies mind as he also extends his hand latching on to the moist palm of his technical rival…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Before whipping him into the ropes catching Jay Hawke off guard with one of his own tricks!!!!

 

“Hey wait a minute…” King is also surprised.

 

“It seems Zyon has passed the test of deception as well.” Pete realizes that Hawke was the one falling into Zyon’s trap.

 

Hawke bounces off the ropes visibly trying to put up a defense, but he doesn’t have to as the youth opts to flashingly leapfrog his dangerous opponent. Hawke knowing he was totally defenseless quickly turns the tables by stopping directly behind Zyon and locking him up in a reverse waist lock. Zyon squirms in the arms of Hawke who quickly loses his grip letting Zyon easily switch the roles with Hawke. Jay again finds himself shocked at the fact that his young opponent has him of all people in a reverse waist lock.

 

The International champion doesn’t give his opponent too long to mentally celebrate as he rolls through and trips Zyon to the mat with a modified drop toe hold. Flowing beautifully the technical god scurries to the head of his opponent and locks in a grounded head lock.

 

“It seems Hawke understands that stopping Zyon’s sloppy, but brutally blinding speed will win him this match.” Pete calls out.

 

“Well, of course you dolt. Jay Hawke wrote the book on how to destroy mindless spot monkeys like the current chimp he is facing.” King continues the Jay Hawke love, and the Zyon hate.

 

The Unique Youth immediately jousts for position pulling his knees to a vertical base before powering himself to a standing base. Hawke knowing the ins and outs of his game immediately releases the head lock keeping himself away from the common elbow or back drop counter.

 

BOOOOO!!!

 

The crowd lets the cocky Hawke know what they think of him, that is if it wasn’t already apparent. Zyon stares his opponent down rubbing the kinks out of his neck before advancing toward Hawke who enters a shoot wrestling position. Brave, but marginally stupid Zyon sprints toward Jay throwing his arm out looking to get an effective lariat in to start his offensive strike. Hawke though will have none of this as he slides his arm undetected under the lariat swinging body part of his opponent before floating Zyon over with a deep arm drag. The Dean of Professional Wrestling crouches down locking an ARM bar on his energetic opponent, once again grounding him. And just to add insult to humiliation Hawke roughly stabs his knee into the cheek of the Unique Youth!

 

“So far it seems the “Unique Youth…” or whatever the Internet losers call him has proven my point. Jay Hawke is out of his league.” King brings the Zyon negativity.

 

“Let’s Go Zyon!!”

 

The crowd frantically chants as the youth moves his face away from the kneecap of his rival before rolling back to his feet and landing a STIFF close fist strike to Hawke before he can cowardly, but geniously back away. Hawke is forced back anyway as Zyon again blindly charges and is once again caught in a deeeeeeep arm drag, but this time the youth breaks out an insane flipping counter before dropping his opponent’s throat across the middle rope with a drop toe hold. Peaking his head between the ropes Hawke pulls himself up, but Zyon sling shots himself over the ropes and brings his leg down across the back of Hawke’s head!!!!

 

“YEAHHHHHHHH!!!”

 

The crowd explodes as the dazed champion staggers backward surprisingly still on his feet, but not for long. The high flyer carefully waits on the apron before launching himself into the atmosphere with a springboard before dropping a face smashing forearm to his opponent! Both men collapse to the ground, but it’s the champion that shows the signs of pain, and Zyon? Well he just wants to win the title…

 

ONE…kickout.

 

Losing the title is not an option to the brash Jay Hawke who immediately kicks out even after having his face bashed in with a forearm. Zyon goes from showing some rookie flare to again showing his immaturity in the ring as he WAITS for Hawke to get to his feet. When staring up at the lights gets boring Hawke decides to maneuver himself to a standing base, and Zyon again charges, but this time is caught in a front waist lock. Zyon is greeted with no time to squirm or work himself into a better position. Hawke makes his young opponent accept reality, and that reality slams Zyon on his back with an overhead belly to belly suplex!

 

“Crisp belly to belly suplex perfectly used against the challenger.” King kisses Hawke’s ass some more.

 

Hawke’s eyes shift to his fallen opponent and lock on to the left shoulder of his downed rival before placing an angry boot to that very shoulder….

 

“Oh man. It seems Hawke is ready to put his usual plan into motion.” Pete says.

 

King shakes his head, “Usual? More like brilliant. We all know one way or another this match is going to end with Zyon tapping to the Wing Span. History has already shown us that.”

 

The simple kick wakes Zyon from his Snow White like daze causing the youth to immediately roll on to his stomach and push himself up…directly in front of Hawke.

 

SMACKKKK!

 

“WHOOOOOO!”

 

The youth clutches his chest as the Dean brings the old school knife edge chop. Instead of chopping Zyon’s epidermis away Hawke latches on to the arm of his stunned opponent and holds it over his own shoulder before snapping it downward violently!!!!

 

“OOOOOOO”

 

The crowd echoes as Zyon staggers away clutching his shoulder, desperately trying to distance himself from Jay Hawke…

 

SMACK!!!!!

 

“WHOOOOO!”

 

Or maybe not. The hyper challenger strikes back with a new school knife edge chop that has the same stinging effect of any other knife edge chop. Proving his shoulder is still moveable; Zyon crouches down before sending his left shoulder into the gut of his opponent forcing Hawke back into the turnbuckle. Clutching his stomach Jay can only watch as Zyon sends his shoulder into his gut again! In a show of violence Zyon switches shoulders every other time burying a hole of pain into the sternum of the champion! The youth’s adrenaline wears thin leaving Zyon to clutch his hurt shoulder as Hawke staggers out from the corner…COUNTERING a right hand into the deadly Fujiwara armbar!!!!

 

GASP!

 

The crowd holds their breath as Hawke can only smile at the rookie’s accidental mistake.

 

One…

 

The smile quickly disappears forming a look of aggravation Hawke blinks randomly as he eyes Zyon’s foot…draping across the bottom rope.

 

Two…

 

Three…

 

Four…

 

Before the DQ’ing five count Hawke innocently releases the hold while Zyon thanks the ring positioning gods that he was inches from the ropes. The challenger with little help from the rope picks himself up as a wave up forearms fight through his defenses. The stinging shots land across the youngsters face leaving visible red marks, which will eventually become bruises for sure. Hawke again latches on to the left arm of his opponent, but this time uses it for leverage as he whips Zyon across the ring. Mobile, but controlled Zyon bounces off the ropes and ducks under a DECAPITATING clothesline before bouncing off the opposite ropes and leaping toward the technical wrestler with a forearm smash…

 

“Not this time spot monkey!” King cheers.

 

Hawke catches Zyon’s left arm, which he stupidly attacked with using it to drive the youngster to the mat. Instead of the expected Fujiwara attempt Hawke pins his opponent’s arm to the mat and uses it to lift himself vertically into the air, feet pointing to the sky. The fans cringe, as does Zyon when Hawke lets himself float back to the mat knees going into the shoulder of his opponent!!!! Of course once is never enough for the International champ so with a bit more malice the champ brings his knees down into his rivals shoulder, again!!!! The Unique Youth obviously hurting rolls away from Hawke, but the Cleveland native pulls him back and locks on an arm BAR!

 

“Grueling. That is the only word I can think of to describe Hawke’s offense on Zyon’s shoulder.” Pete expresses.

 

Zyon shuts his eyes and attempts desperately to shut out the pain, but he can’t shut out the ref asking him every five seconds, “Do you give up!”

 

“No Damnit!”

 

The youth slightly annoyed lifts himself on to his knees before getting back to a standing position. The schooling continues when Hawke walks forward, still latched on to Zyon’s arm, forcing the youth back into the turnbuckle. Soapdish pleads with Hawke for a clean break…and Hawke obliges????

 

Before driving an elbow into the face of his opponent denting the cheek for sure.

 

“BOOOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd goes mad over the unclean break, but should they expect anything else from the dirty champion. Hawke continues his rule breaking ways by wrapping the youth’s arm around the stubborn ropes before pulling back on his arm trying to tear into the shoulder or anything else that can break, pop, crack, tear, you get the point.

 

“The International Champ is acting like a shark when it sees blood.” Pete is concerned for the rookie’s health, no doubt.

 

Soapdish tries his hardest to verbally force Hawke to release the web he tangled Zyon in, but the snobby International Champ ignores the black and white presence. However, Hawke does let go of the challenger as a smile creeps across his face once the Unique Youth falls to a crouch clutching his shoulder. Suddenly, Hawke’s smile turns into furious anger as he charges brutally toward Zyon jabbing his knee into the damaged left shoulder! The youth falls to the mat clutching his shoulder not being able to fight Hawke off as the champion roughly lifts the challenger to his feet. Once again latching on to the left arm of his opponent, Hawke reels Zyon in throwing his own shoulder into the hurt shoulder of his high flying opponent!!! Zyon screams out obscenities as the pain from his shoulder actually makes his legs buckle, but the Dean refuses to let go before driving his shoulder into Zyon again!!!

 

King could not be happier, “This is great! Pete are you watching this? Hawke is giving Zyon a wrestling lesson that he will never forget.”

 

The youth visibly grimaces as he staggers around the ring doing what he can to distance himself from the shark that is the International champ. Hawke struts toward his opponent and CATCHES A STUNNING RIGHT HAND TO THE JAW!!!!!

 

“YES!” Pete lets out.

 

The crowd explodes as the closed fist connects to the jaw of the dominating Jay Hawke. Zyon even though currently outclassed jolts toward Hawke throwing another right hand that catches…Hawke’s hand? That’s right Jay will not be caught off guard again as he easily clutches the hand of Zyon before forcing the youth’s left arm behind his own back and scooping the cruiserweight into the air. The technical perfectionist was never known for his strength, but the athletically built Hawke holds Zyon in the air soaking in all the hate from the crowd…

 

“JAY HAWKE SUCKS!!!!”

 

Before dropping the youth on his shoulder with a modified body slam. And then just to be a dick Hawke soccer punts Zyon’s injured shoulder before going for the cover…

 

ONE…

 

 

 

TWO…kickout.

 

“For a second I wasn’t sure Zyon would want to kick out.” Pete grimly says.

 

Hawke breaking from his usual character keeps his ego in check, staying on the attack as he lifts Zyon back to his feet.

 

SMACK!!!

 

“WHOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

The celebratory crowd reacts as they watch the rookie stagger backward like a drunk holding his chest as if he suffered a gunshot wound. Hawke absolutely treating Zyon like the rookie that he is stomps Zyon in the gut before locking him in a front face lock and powering him up into the air. The International champ doesn’t flaunt his average strength; nope instead he drapes Zyon across the top rope stomach first! The oxygen invisibly exits Zyon’s lungs causing a slight wheeze from the challenger. Hawke admires his work for a moment before the sight of Zyon struggling out of his latest predicament sets the International champion off! Hawke runs diagonally toward Zyon connecting his boot with the youth’s head! The SIIIIIIICK shot forces Zyon back and down to the floor…if Zyon hadn’t held on to the top rope. But the resourceful youth uses his right arm to grip the top rope saving him from the fall. Slightly agitated Hawke throws a wild punch that should connect BUT DOESN’T! Zyon ducks the oncoming blow before hurling his left shoulder at Hawke!

 

“YAAAAAAAAA!”

 

The crowd screams as the champion clutches his gut, but the cheers soon die down after they realize that Zyon immediately after impact clutched his hurt shoulder. Totally resilient Hawke ignores the silent pain in his stomach and again rushes up to Zyon who smartly uses his hand instead of shoulder to stop the oncoming champion.

 

“Hey ref, that’s a closed fist.” King complains.

 

Again Hawke staggers back shaking from the effects of the stinging right hand. Low on stamina and energy Zyon gets back into the ring without using some sort of springboard, which straight up shocks the crowd. To some wrestling purists though the objection toward a high flying attack could have been the best decision Zyon has made in his career. The Unique Youth drags himself toward Hawke before launching a boot to the gut of the champion and then follows up with a front face lock. Stopping a possible offense from the challenger, Hawke pulls himself back and then upward before proceeding to drive Zyon to the mat with yet another Fujiwara attempt!

 

“Zyon showing the heart of a true underdog by fighting off the lethal arm bar.” Pete compliments the youth.

 

Pete would be correct in his statement since Zyon stops the downward shift in momentum by slamming his hand to the mat, keeping himself from being pinned down on to the mat. Athletic and fearless Zyon rolls forward trying to get away from the always dangerous Dean of Professional Wrestling. Hawke though simply holds his grip and drops a leg down on to the arm/shoulder area of his opponent!

 

“See Pete, there is no escape from Hawke. He has a counter to every counter Zyon can think of.” King shouts.

 

The challenger’s teeth grinds as Hawke scissors the left arm pulling it in awkward angles trying to tear into the shoulder for the obvious reason known as the Wing Span! The rookie stomps his feet trying to get himself and the crowd back into the match…

 

“Let’s go Zyon!!!”

 

The crowd begins to rock Madison Square Garden as Zyon touches the bottom rope with his feet. “Break it,” the ref yells and Hawke actually obliges quicker than usual. Jay pulls the youth back up by his now sweat soaked hair before firing off another chop.

 

SMA…CRADLE!!!!!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

Kickout…

 

“Zyon from out of nowhere counters the attempted chop into a sloppy, but effective cradle.” Pete calls it like he sees it.

 

“Ok Hawke I’d say for you to stop playing games with the rookie.” King sounds slightly concerned.

 

The Cleveland native calmly scurries to his feet, as does the Indiana native. The fans are not treated to some sort of stare down, they wanted action and they are getting it in the form of a heated International title match. Zyon desperately needs a big strike so he throws a clothesline that Hawke can see coming a mile away. The International champ dodges the clothesline, BUT DOES NOT DODGE THE BACKSWING!!!!

 

“AH!!!”

 

Zyon screams as the backswing connects bending his left arm outward affecting the shoulder area, no doubt about that. The technical cruiserweight also feels the effects apparently by clutching the back of his head. Zyon notices Hawke’s doubled over state, and taking advantage is the only thing running through the youth’s mind. Rage and the greed of gold fueling the rookie’s thought process causes Zyon to dive forward and wrap his hands around the head of Hawke attempting a swinging neck breaker!!!! Jay though has other plans spinning away and locking his arms under the arms of Zyon as the two are fighting over a backslide attempt!!!!

 

“Both men jousting for position, the winner possibly going home the victor of the match.” Pete whispers.

 

The two change momentum sporadically each getting the advantage playing with the crowd’s emotions. Cheers and jeers randomly switch on and off once the hero or villain is able to grasp control. The tensing of the muscles soon comes to an end as Hawke the human chess master jumps backward toward his opponent letting Zyon’s momentum place him right back on his feet just like he planned.

 

Right?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh so wrong?

 

Doubled over Hawke feels the moist hands of his opponent latch on to his head before meeting the canvas face first!!!!

 

“Zyon just drove Hawke to the mat face first. This could be the break he needs.” Pete exhales

 

King inhales, “The break he needs is the one involving his shoulder snapping in half.”

 

The youth trying to find a way back into the match looks out into the varied crowd listening to their sentiments…

 

“Let’s Go Zyon!”

 

Realizing the crowd isn’t going to win him the match Zyon forces himself up to his feet before staggering toward Hawke who continues to shake off the cobwebs. Lifting Hawke to his feet Zyon kicks Hawke in the gut subsequently locking him in a front face lock, which causes some in the crowd to groan. The groaning comes from the fact that Zyon is in no shape to try and lift the champion up. The youth though simply drops his shoulder to his waist and stomps the mat using the whole right side of his body to drop Hawke with a weak snap suplex.

 

“Pete you and I both know that was all momentum right there.” King says.

 

Rubbing his shoulder Zyon boots Hawke in the head trying to by himself some time. The boot does indeed connect, yet Hawke pulls himself to his feet anyway. Winging it, Zyon runs toward Hawke who fully expects some sort of foolish strike like the clothesline he’s countered about three times this match. His conscience grinning Hawke prepares to drop Zyon again, but the Unique Youth simply sprints past the champ before using his right arm to springboard off the middle rope. Twisting forty-five degrees in the air Zyon attempts a dropkick yet the difficultness of using one arm to help with the springboard turns the dropkick into a wheel kick that connects all the same! The challenger’s foot smacks his opponent in the side of the face causing Hawke to descend to one knee before standing back up, dazed. Zyon wonders over to a staggering Hawke before leaping forward and grabbing Hawke by the back of his head and dropping him face first to the mat again!!!

 

“One hand bulldog by Zyon, who continues to keep his left shoulder away from Hawke.” Pete explains.

 

Gaining momentum by the second the youth exits to the ring apron while Hawke frantically tries to figure out what is going wrong. The crowd cheering like mad…New York residents watches as Hawke balances himself back on to his feet. In turn Zyon using both hands this time springboards into the air extending himself horizontally landing on the champion with a possible winning cross body splash!!! Zyon on his knees clutches his weak shoulder before flopping on the champion for the lateral press…

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…kickout.

“Admit it Pete! Hawke even when losing a match is truly the winner. Zyon couldn’t pin the great International champ directly after the move because of his hurt shoulder.”

 

“Fine I admit it.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I’ve always said Hawke is a great wrestler with questionable character. He isn’t the longest reigning International champ for nothing.” Pete finishes.

 

King remains quiet, confused that Pete actually agreed with him. Back in the ring Zyon pops up standing on legs that would be best suited on a couch not in a marathon like International title match. The Dean of Professional Wrestling refuses to stay on the mat for long as he rolls up to his feet immediately clubbed in the back by the former hardcore champion. Hawke though ignores the fly like swat and proceeds to CHOP THE STUFFING out of the Zyon!

 

“WHOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

SMACK!!!!

 

“WHOOOOOOO!”

 

SMACK!!!!!

 

“WHOOOOOOO!!!

 

The challengers face cringing from the pain in his lukewarm chest can only watch as the pissed off champion floors Zyon with a high roundhouse kick to the head THAT IS DUCKED! Anger soon turns to anticipation, as Hawke quickly understands that after lighting Zyon up he should have the advantage.

 

But Instead…

 

Zyon locks on a reverse waist lock and this time Hawke is far too winded to pull of a technical counter like before. This fact lets Zyon injure his shoulder more as he uses both arms and throws Hawke back with a release German suplex!!! The International champ floating through the air coming closer to collision with the mat flips backward….landing on his feet!

 

“Hawke showing those that have forgotten that he is indeed a high flyer deep…really deep down.” Pete points out.

 

King also points something out, “But he is not a spot monkey!”

 

The crowd can’t help, but applaud the counter, which basically signals to Zyon to turn around. The youth does, eyes sharpening on the foot that is headed is way…

 

CRACK!!!!

 

Hawke downs the challenger with a tranquilizing roundhouse kick! Zyon’s head bobbles side to side before falling to the ground. The champ unlike the challenger is still able to go for the cover immediately after an offensive strike!

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…kickout.

 

“HEY! Ref that was a slow count.” King complains.

 

Zyon reaches into the air as it becomes obvious that the kick knocked the former hardcore champ a little loopy. Hawke though could care less, actually probably doesn’t care at all. Waking Zyon up from his dream world is a menacing soccer punt to the shoulder!!!!!

 

“OW!!!”

 

Zyon yells as the stinging sensation alone forces him back to his feet into Hawke’s clutches. The reigning International champion pulls his knee violently into the air and jabs it into Zyon’s gut before locking him in a gut wrench wait lock. With little fight from his opponent Hawke powers Zyon into the air on to his shoulder letting the youth stare into the lights for a moment, before understanding that Zyon HAS JUST GOTTEN FREE!! Squirming out like a worm and landing on his feet like a cat Zyon takes off toward the ropes and bounces off of them into Hawke who counters Zyon into a tilt a whirl, but it is Zyon who strikes by countering the tilt a whirl into a head scissor takedown.

 

“YEAHHHHHHHH!!!”

 

The crowd explodes as the injured left shoulder continues to bother the challenger’s rhythm. Stopping to massage the shoulder Zyon can only watch as Hawke holds his back spitting out curse words over the fact that he was once again caught off guard. The first man to his feet is surprisingly Jay Hawke who shoots a grim reaper like stare at the grounded Zyon who remains crouched. Inching his way to Zyon the International champ can only dream of what he is going to do, and when he finally reaches Zyon he does indeed do something. He staggers backward after being knocked around by an European uppercut!

SMACK!

 

The skin on skin echo shocks the crowd who watch with delight as Hawke scurries around the ring trying to keep his balance and making sure his head is still intact. Zyon makes it back to his feet after the strike, latching on to Hawke’s arm forcing him into turnbuckle with an Irish whip. The back of the Ohio native smacks against the unforgiving turnbuckle signaling for Zyon to come sprinting in like a raging bull with the sight of red in its trails. Out of pure desperation the Dean throws his foot into the air missing Zyon’s face, but stabbing at the left shoulder of the challenger!

 

“Oh no!” Pete whispers

 

Zyon pulls away from attack mode taking ample time to clutch his shoulder and stomp his feet as he continues to try new ways to shut the pain out. Seeing the opening he needs Hawke emerges from the turnbuckle and meets the point of Zyon’s elbow, which drives him back to that very exact turnbuckle. Stunned, but not crippled the two time International champ watches as the high flyer leaps toward him. Zyon locking both hands around the head of Hawke and placing both feet into the champ’s stomach drops backward, free falling. Attempting a monkey flip this would be the time Hawke flips over, but instead the resourceful champ grabs the top rope…

 

BAM!

 

“Did you hear that Pete, that was the back of Zyon’s head.”

 

The canvas shakes as the challenger clutches the back of his head while Hawke elevates the legs of the challenger and rolls him up placing his own feet on the middle rope!!

 

ONE…

 

“Hey damnit ref look!!!!!” Pete shills.

 

TWO….

 

 

 

 

 

 

Break it!!

 

Hawke stares at the ref as he releases Zyon. Soapdish’s lips move up and down verbally warning Hawke that he could get DQ’ed. Hawke ignores the ref and attempts to ignore this…

“JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!”

 

The champ used to the chants actually takes the time to break out an arrogant smile as he unconsciously lifts the weakened cruiserweight to his feet. Zyon out of instinct and the intent to hurt Hawke throws a right hand that has little to no effect on Hawke. Ready to stop the youth now Hawke jabs Zyon in the gut before placing his head under the youngsters chin proceeding to drop down on to his knees! The challenger’s head blows backward in a whiplash like state as the youth is blinded by his own hands that cover his face after the momentum changing jaw breaker. Jay noticing Zyon’s unhealthy predicament mimics Spike Jenkins “straight edge” pose by kneeling on one knee…before leaping diagonally upward and DECAPITATING Zyon with a clothesline!!!!!

 

“He just took his head off!!!” Pete shills.

 

Zyon’s eyes blur as the lights fall upon him while he feels a sharp incredible pain in his arm! Looking to his left the eyes of the challenger notices his opponent…applying a cross arm breaker!!!! Reacting to his situation Zyon tries to break the champion’s grip with his free arm, but it is too late. Hawke falls backward flat on his back tugging at Zyon’s arm trying to rip the shoulder apart.

 

“That’s right Hawke. Give Zyon the Randy Myers treatment and show the world why this glorified spot monkey does not, and I repeat does not deserve to be in the ring with you.” King actually shills.

 

The crowd can only watch helplessly as Zyon kicks his legs violently trying to scoot toward the ropes, which are the only thing that can save the match for the Unique Youth. Unique or not Zyon still wants to have feeling in his arm before the match ends so the thought of tapping does enter the youths mind. The all knowing technical god can also sense the end as he sits up and drops back again, applying more pressure. Grinding his teeth and breaking out some veins Hawke attempts to tear the shoulder away. Zyon’s mind and heart finally come to a compromise as his right hand waivers in the air…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“ROPE BREAK!!!!!”

 

“How did he? That lucky little bastard.” King is stunned, but not surprised.

 

Pete lets the audience in on action, “Zyon was about to tap when he realized that his arm was closer to the ropes that his legs. See folks never give up cause you never know…”

 

Hawke aggravated to the max maintains the hold and the pressure leaving Zyon to yell in a groggy tone.

 

One

 

Two

 

Three

 

Four

 

Fi…

 

The relentless champ finally breaks the hold before getting back to his feet and staring out into the Madison Square Garden crowd….grinning.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

The crowd roars at the champ who takes a moment to compose himself. Hoping he could be back in the locker room celebrating with his stable mates Landon Maddix and JJ Johnson. Instead he has to find some other way to put the rookie out of his misery. Zyon through the pain and perspiration tries to get to his feet, before Hawke reacts angrily to his resilience. The Dean of Professional Wrestling actually has the nerve to taunt Zyon who fights his way back to his feet before being kicked in the shoulder…and falling back to the canvas! The champ shrugs his shoulders laughing realizing that Zyon is in the worse predicament of his career. Not only will be beaten by the man that stated “Zyon is not in his league” but the match could end with the youth going to the hospital unable to perform…ever again! With this knowledge Hawke lifts Zyon to his feet and casually whips him into the ropes waiting for the rookie to shoot back. Hawke obviously has something planned as he stays next to the ropes opposite the ones Zyon has bounces off from. Ducking his head Hawke throws Zyon into the air with a back body drop over the top rope and to the floor!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well that was the plan.

 

“He held on!” Pete exclaims.

 

“He held on?” King is puzzled.

 

Hawke struts forward taunting the crowd who… CHEER???? Realizing something must be wrong Jay quickly turns around faster than an in his prime Michael Jackson twirl. The vision of a tired and beaten Zyon standing on the apron causes Hawke to panic and sprint forward, which in turn has Zyon pull the top rope down leaving Hawke to tumble to the outside marginally embarrassed. Many in the front row scream degrading comments toward the International champ while Zyon gets back in the ring clutching his left shoulder.

 

“Could Zyon actually be doing the smart thing and taking this time to catch his breath?” King questions.

 

Many in the crowd are puzzled as well, that is until Hawke makes it back to his feet. Zyon seeing the Dean rise from his fallen state runs off the ropes and charges toward Hawke who’s beady eyes lock on to the sky waiting for his opponent to fly over the ropes leading to the eventual crash and burn. However, Zyon instead of going up proceeds to go low striking Hawke right square in the face with a “Hell yeah he’s safe” Yankee baseball slide!!!!!

 

“Brilliant! Hawke has indeed studied Zyon, but you can’t study something you don’t see. Zyon is reaching into the moveset tonight.” Pete compliments the youngster.

 

Hawke flops backward into the safety barrier holding his face making sure all the bones and teeth are still in place. Fans in the front row immediately use the ticket price as an excuse to toss paper, food, liquid, and anything else they can get their hands on at the hated International champ. Security forcefully backs the fans up a bit leaving Hawke to wipe away the residue covering his back. Zyon though uses this as an opportunity!

 

SMACK!!!

 

“YEAHHHHH!!!”

 

The crowd explodes, as does Zyon’s hand across Hawke’s chest. Referee Nick Soapdish continues to try and maintain order by starting the ten count.

 

One…

 

Two…

 

Zyon pulls Hawke away from the safety barrier and tries to slam his rivals head into said unforgiving barrier. Lack of morals, but surplus of heart the International champ refuses to kiss the barrier letting his elbows fly back into his opponent’s gut. Backing away from Hawke, Zyon attempts to regain his breath but the champ comes rushing forward with a lariat attempt. Speed being his greatest ally; Zyon ducks the head slicing lariat and tries one of his own…THAT CONNECTS…TO THE STEEL RING POST!!!!!

 

“AHHHH!”

 

Zyon lets out swaying away from his opponent clutching nervously at his shoulder. The look of worry zombies the face of many in attendance, and it can only get worse from here.

 

 

 

 

 

And it does.

 

Three…

 

Wasting little time Hawke grabs the Unique Youth and tosses him shoulder first into the destructive steel ring steps!!!! Zyon falls to the cold ground holding his shoulder, withering in pain as everything goes mute.

 

Four…

 

Hawke enters the ring combing his oily hair back with his hand while ordering a concerned Soapdish to count the rookie out.

 

One…

 

Two…

 

Three…

 

Four…

 

Five…

 

“Halfway through the count and Zyon is barely moving.” Pete definitely worried about the youngster’s condition.

 

Six…

 

Seven…

 

The crowd begins to cheer hoping that will be the spirit that lifts Zyon back to his feet. Surprisingly, Zyon begins to move even pushing himself up to all fours…

 

Eight…

 

And back to his feet.

 

Nine…

 

And finally back into the ring just in the knick of time. Fashionably aggravated Hawke can only shake his head as he lifts Zyon back to his unsure feet and scooping him into the air…until the youth floats over on to the safe canvas! Suddenly the Armageddon must be upon us since the spotastic Zyon locks the technical genius Hawke in a fricken SLEEPER HOLD!

 

“Hey when did he learn that? I want to know right now.” King demands.

 

“King I don’t care how he learned it. I’m more impressed with the fact as the moment he is using it. Can’t you see both men are extremely winded and a sleeper hold is used to put someone down. The sleeper is much stronger against someone low on fatigue.” Pete makes a fantastic point.

 

“GO TO SLEEP!!!!”

 

Many in the arena shout as Hawke frantically staggers around blindly reaching for the ropes. Struggling to stay conscious the International champ begins to slouch quite a bit before dropping to one knee imitating a drunken “straight edge” pose. The crowd rocks the Garden as they can feel Hawke’s nightmare…the crowning of a new champion. Zyon also fatigued loosens his grip for a moment…and pays for it. Hawke still very much alive staggers forward before ducking and shooting Zyon forward toward the steel ring post shoulder first!!!! He youth though slams on the breaks calmly staring at the post that could have sealed his fate. Hawke though scares his opponent by suddenly jerking him to the ground with a roll up. The submissionist though stands straight up hooking both of Zyon’s legs and flipping him over into an elevated crab going away from the shoulder work…or is he?

 

“Now this is brilliant, Longdoggah. Look where Hawke’s knee is jabbing into.” King brags.

 

The Suicide King has a reason to boast as the champ’s knee is jabbing into the shoulder of his opponent. This latest happening forces Zyon’s back to arch more and for pressure to still be put on the submissive shoulder! Burying his head into the canvas Zyon understands the situation, and refuses to quit.

 

But how long can his shoulder last?

 

Zyon randomly waves his hand around on the mat trying not to relax into the passion of pain that will surely flow through his body and quite possibly end the mat if he stops moving. Taking a moment to look up, Zyon eyes the bottom rope no more than a foot away.

 

“Please don’t tap!”

 

The crowd silently cheers as the persistent rookie crawls toward his destination. His opposition cranking back on the hold only fuels Zyon’s crawl…

 

Four inches…

 

Scratching and clawing his way forward the youth can hear Hawke grind down on the submission.

 

Two inches…

 

So close…Zyon reaches for freedom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DENIED!!!!

 

The rookie grazes the ropes giving Hawke a reason to stand up and drag Zyon away from the ropes before crouching back down!

 

“Zyon used everything he had to get to the ropes…” Pete says.

 

“And it was all for nothing, hahaha.” Guess who?

 

Clenching his fist Zyon desperately begins his journey again. Pain springing through his body like a virus slows, but does not stop the rookie. Refusing to quit Zyon nears the ropes…

 

Four inches…

 

Screw the suspense. Hawke sick and tired of his adversary releases the hold before dropping an elbow down on Zyon! Shocking the crowd the tough champion exits to the ring apron calmly waiting for Zyon to rise back to his feet. Slowly, Zyon stands up dazed as he eyeballs his oncoming opponent…who lays the challenger out with a freakishly athletic springboard clothesline!!!! The clothesline decapitates the rookie crispfully knocking the challenger to the mat. Landing on the mat knees first, Hawke crawls over to Zyon and goes for the cover…

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

Kickout.

 

“YEAAAAAHHHHHH!”

 

The crowd explodes, as does a vein in Hawke’s head. Many in the past have challenged the champion, but at this point in time this particular youth is being quite tedious. Grabbing Zyon by the head the champion roughly drags Zyon back to his feet only to fire off another blazing chop!!!

 

SMACKKKKK!

 

“WHOOOOO!”

 

Zyon backs away, doubling over while clutching his beet red chest.

 

“Hawke you suck!”

 

One front row fan screams, actually getting the arrogant champ’s attention. The technical masterpiece can only smile as he turns his attention back toward the challenger who throws a SUPERKICK TOWARD HAWKE!!!! Bug eyed and out of sync Hawke gets his hands up just in time, latching on to the foot.

 

“That was a close one.” King passively says.

 

Hawke preparing to teach Zyon a lesson spins the rookie around before advancing right INTO A SNAPPPPPPPP DROPKICK!!!!!

 

“YESSSSSSSS!”

 

The crowd freaks out as both of Zyon’s feet crush into the chest of the cocky champion knocking his breath away! Both men fall to the canvas, Zyon lies back first staring up at the lights. Hawke falls to the mat rolling around gasping for breath while clutching his chest. Again doing his job referee Nick Soapdish is forced to turn to the dreaded ten count…

 

One…

 

Two…

 

Three…

 

Four…

 

Five…

 

Zyon begins to stir knowing that the dropkicks could have just changed the momentum in the match…or delayed the inevitable.

 

Six…

 

Seven…

 

The Unique Youth sits up before getting back to his feet. Zyon refuses to let Hawke rest so he forces the champion back to his feet before whipping him across the ring and into the turnbuckle….HARD! The Dean staggers out of the turnbuckle clutching his back leaving himself open for a super kick that lands FLUSH on the champ’s chin. Like a human bobble head Hawke crashes to the mat with his eyes switching from being in focus to being incredibly out of focus. The force from the impact actually knocks Zyon back into the ropes, which graciously holds the challenger up. Seeing the fallen champion excites Zyon to the point of head to the outside and ascending the turnbuckle!!!

 

“HAWKE MOVE!!!!” King screams.

 

Zyon though can barely get to the top before clutching his shoulder trying to get the blood pumping again. This of course can only lead to destruction as Hawke pulls himself back to his feet. And like a vulture eyeing it’s prey, Hawke flies toward Zyon and runs up the turnbuckle before hugging the youth and throwing him off with a WICKED BELLY TO BELLY SUPAPLEX!!!!!

 

“Oh my god…” Pete is shocked.

 

The sound of clapping can be heard in the background from the amazed crowd as Zyon’s eyes have a glossy look to them. Winded, Hawke crawls toward the battered challenger knowing the amazing counter was nothing, but HIGH IMPACT! The champ makes it over to Zyon and plops down on to the motionless challenger…

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

“NEAR FALL…bullshit!” King is aggravated and he’s not even competing.

 

Hawke’s head snaps up at the ref with a look of “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Soapdish though calmly throws the two fingers signaling that it was indeed a two count. The Dean of Professional Wrestling returns to the class he is teaching by forcing Zyon back to his feet and bending him over. Hawke points at the turnbuckle and rushes forward picking up speed before releasing Zyon whose shoulder seems aimed for the turnbuckle. With wild eyes Hawke can only watch pleased with himself before he notices that Zyon just leaped to the top rope….oh yeah. Quickly, Zyon leaps backward corkscrewing through the air beautifully before landing on top of a stunned Hawke!!!

 

“He’s got him!” Pete swears.

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!! Kickout!

 

“Oh thank you god…or Hawke whatever he prefers.” King just gave Jay the ultimate compliment.

 

The tempo in the match begins to rise as Zyon rolls off the champion and back to his feet. Hawke also gets back to his feet as he is quickly met with a right hand.

 

Hawke though fires back with one of his own!

 

Zyon though retaliates and shoots back with a stunning right hand. Following up the deadly right hand, the cruiserweight leaps into the air wrapping both legs around Hawke’s head and snapping him over with a hurricarana! Unable to add the cradle the momentous youth rises back to his feet as Hawke sits up in confused state. Giving Zyon the opening he needs the challenger runs off the ropes and charges toward Hawke before smashing his face with a basement dropkick!!!! Hoping Hawke was KO’ed from the latest blow Zyon tries to win the match!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO! Kickout!

 

“Face it! Zyon you can shoot Hawke if you want, the Dean will not give up his title to you!” King desperately wants the home audience to believe there will not be a title change tonight.

 

Once again the youth is forced to take advantage of the moment by rubbing his shoulder trying to work the kinks out. Hawke ascends back to his feet staggering around looking to finish Zyon off, but he forgets something. It is the challenger that currently has the advantage! Zyon wraps his arm around his opponent’s before whipping him into the ropes, ducking his head as Hawke comes tumbling back. The youth uses the momentum to lift Hawke on to his back and just SLAM him to the mat with a Samoan drop followed by the immediate cover!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!! Kickout!

 

Again Hawke kicks out angering the percentile that is cheering for Zyon to win the match. Of course that would probably 99 percent, but hey who is the one percent?

 

“C’mon Hawke he is not in your league.”

 

Ahhhh, King you’ve got to love him. The impact from the Samoan drop visibly and physically has a negative effect on the left shoulder of Zyon. Regardless the wreckless youth exits the ring and ascends the turnbuckle perching himself, waiting….

 

“LET’S GO ZYON!!!”

 

The cheers are louder than ever as Hawke letting it all get to his wonders around the ring aimlessly before feeling the impact of a chest caving missile dropkick!!!! Every action counts as the youth plops on top of Hawke for the cover…

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

Kickout!

 

Zyon pulls his hair back bewildered eyes telling the story that many have faced before. When the title is on the line, Hawke simply refuses to lose. The Dean finds himself being forced to his feet by the Unique Youth who attempts to scoop Hawke up, but the unpredictable champion slides down the back of his opponent when the hurt shoulder of Zyon gives in to the weight. Knowing the TIME IS NOW, Hawke wraps Zyon’s arm behind his own back, completing the first step of the chickenwing!!!!

 

GASP!

 

The crowd goes silent as Zyon reaches back into history and wraps his arm around the champ’s head and tries to take the Dean over with a snapmare, but Hawke’s positioning is much better than Smarkdown’s! Inching closer and closer to trapping his other arm over Zyon’s face Hawke’s adrenaline pumps up to full volume, before watching as Zyon collapses on to his rectum…countering the Wing Span with a stunner!!!!!!!

 

“HE COUNTERED IT!!!!!” Pete is alive indeed.

 

“This can’t be…” King is worried…

 

Both men are once again plastered across the canvas like a work of disastrous art. Zyon currently rolls around on the mat clutching his shoulder that was pinned against his back before the stunner counter. And Hawke…well he can’t get a grip on what just went wrong. For crying out loud the snapmare didn’t work…what was left? Soapdish amazed at the two men starts his count…

 

One…

 

Two…

 

Three…

 

Four…

 

Five…

 

Six…

 

“LET’S GO ZYON!”

 

Seven…

 

Eight…

 

Zyon sits up stopping the count. The youngster breathing heavily has a difficult time pulling himself up, but he succeeds anyway. Sweat dripping from all pores the youth staggers trying to grip on his situation. He was just seconds from either tapping or having his shoulder torn apart…or maybe both. Zyon attempts to lift Hawke up and after a moment of tensing up the youth succeeds again…before having his eyes raked.

 

“BOOOOOOO!”

 

The jeering has resumed, but Hawke ignores what he views as those below him…just like Zyon. Blinded Zyon swings wildly at Hawke who slowly moves under his opponent locking him in a reverse front face lock before dropping out with a reverse DDT on to his knee…. modified. The modification comes from the fact that Hawke places the points of his knee into the shoulder blade of his weakened opponent. Hawke collapses on top of the challenger hoping he’ll just give up…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!! Kickout!

 

And Hawke’s hope just went up in flames. The International champ flounders back to his feet reminding himself to lift Zyon up too. Hurting and aching Hawke has become uncharacteristically lazy as he weakly whips Zyon into the ropes, and the youth comes back with a HALF MOON moonsault!!! Tired and mentally winded Hawke watches Zyon fly through the air before stepping forward and catching the youth! Taking a step back Hawke regains his balance and drops the challenger across his knee with a magnificent shoulder breaker!!!!! Zyon falls to the mat, rolling around clutching his shoulder like he has just been shot. Again going out of character the International champ begins to ascend the turnbuckle causing the excited crowd to set their cameras.

 

“What is he planning?” Pete wonders aloud.

 

The International champ perches himself on the top rope before leaping spreading his arms out and diving on to the left shoulder of his opponent with a kamikaze headbutt!!! The crowd can feel the impact as many in the front row actually jump back on impact. Hawke visualizing the victory celebration climbs on top of Zyon’s motionless body!

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kickout!

 

“YEAHHHHHHHHH!!!”

 

Getting his shoulder up, Zyon has truly disturbed the International champion!

 

“There is nothing left of that shoulder Jay, apply the Wing Span!” King pleads.

 

Pete explains, “King he has tried. It is much easier said than done. Just look at them both, they have been taken to the max and beyond…and I’m loving it!”

 

“Hmph…” That is all King can get out…my god this really is Genesis.

 

Hawke dazed and confused grabs Zyon as both men get to their feet. The champion trying to put together the high impact whips Zyon into the ropes and drops his head…too early! The youth ambitiously places Hawke in a head scissor….

 

“NO!!!!” King squeals…

 

“OMGYEAHGHHHHHHH!!”

 

The crowd immediately freaks as the youth uses both arms to lift the International champion into the air vertically. Pulsating, Zyon’s shoulder has been taken beyond its limits…but he has to. Using his left arm as the cradle Zyon leaps to the air and absolutely SPIKES HAWKE DOWN WITH THE FINAL HOUR!!!!!!!!!

 

“Oh my god….!”

 

Pete says as the veteran Hawke just made the mistake of a life time, leading to his demise! Zyon rolls Hawke on to his back before going for the cover!!!!

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEKICKOUT!!!!!

 

“WHAT!!!!!” Pete shouts.

 

“Hawke is….wonderful.” King praises.

 

The crowd can only look on in shock as they expected a new champion, and in one spasm of his shoulder Hawke halted those expectations. Zyon looks up into the sky…

 

“Don’t give up kid…” Pete’s out of breath…

 

But the youth can’t help, but think about just giving up. The stage was set and the error was made…the match was his DAMNIT! Villains aren’t supposed to have heart…but then there goes Jay Hawke breaking the mold. Rising to his feet Zyon exits out to the apron and begins to stomp his feet madly!

 

“YEAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!”

 

The crowd uber excited watches as the Zyon they have grown accustomed to has returned for the moment. The pain flowing through his body poisoning his hopes of winning the match is gone and now the Unique one makes his move. The champion drowned in his own pain wonders around noticing a figure leaping his way via springboard! Zyon locks his legs around Hawke and gets DRIVEN STRAIGHT TO HELLL…POWER BOMB FOOL!

 

“GASPPPPPP!”

 

The crowd has just had the air in their sails taken from them…think how Zyon feels. The youth’s face a pale purple looks to have seen his future…as Hawke falls on him for the cover…

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEKICKOUT!

 

“Give me…no give Hawke a break. He deserves it. The International title is Hawke’s property damnit.” King pleads with the heavens.

 

The amazing counter wasn’t enough to stop the youth, but it did tilt the momentum in the favor of the prince of technical wrestling. However, the Patron Wrestler of Athens (breaking it out old school) refuses to die! Hawke obviously gets to his feet first before carefully lifting Zyon unwillingly to his feet. The youth instinctively fires off an incredibly…weak left hand that Hawke takes as a gift while he rides Zyon down to the mat with a FUJIWARA ARMBAR!!!!!!!!

 

“He locked it in…YES!” King’s now raspy voice excites those rooting for Jay Hawke.

[zyon 0]

Cleveland just went up in arms as Hawke uses what is left of his strength to torque back on Zyon beyond repair arm/shoulder. Not dangerously far away from the ropes, but not in touching distance the youth finds himself in a desperate situation. Hearing the fans chant his name is great and all, but hearing the tearing of your shoulder can cause everlasting nightmares! Trying his best to spin his body around Zyon pushes on the mat. The ring veteran, Hawke could care less where Zyon is trying to get to since getting him to tap is the first and only priority!

 

Six inches…

 

Four inches…

 

The crowd becomes visibly excited once again for the youth whose momentum has come to a sudden halt. Hawke’s body is dangerously elevated as the shoulder could be exiting the socket. Raising his hand Zyon hears the desperation in Madison Square Garden’s collective breath…before pushing himself again…

 

Two inches…rope break!!!!!

 

“Challenger or champion both men have shown the heart of a true warrior.”

 

“But not the brains. Zyon is going to leave this match forever injured that is for sure.”

 

The quality announce team discusses as Hawke breaks the hold. The Dean lifts Zyon back to his wobbly feet before trying to scoop the youth into the air, but the always thinking Zyon leaps backward before placing his arm across the face of Hawke, and sneaking his leg behind his opponent’s. Looking for the always dangerous Decline Zyon wants to fall backward, but instead staggers to the side after having elbows drilled into the side of his head. Off balance and deathly tired Zyon wobbles back over to Hawke who kicks the youth in the gut and locks in a front face lock followed by a KO DDT!!!!

 

“A DDT so dangerous it has been compared to Insane Luchadore’s. We could sadly be seeing the end of the match.” Pete is a realist when it comes to someone kickout out of that.

“LET’S GO ZYON!!!”

 

The crowd knows it doesn’t hurt to try, but the glossy look in the fan favorites eyes is a bit disheartening to say the least. Hawke sure of victory rolls over on to Zyon…

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!…NO!

 

Before the final hand slap Zyon pops his right shoulder up since popping the left shoulder could prove fatal to his chances of winning. Hawke smacks the mat deeply agitated that the youth will not stay down. The feud was based on champion vs. challenger yet both men appear to fight like the underdog challenger. Their will stronger than the separate personalities has pushed this match on the brink of showmanship that many couldn’t think possible. Hawke wanting to straight up hurt Zyon grabs the youth by the hair and scoops him on to his shoulder…

 

“Hawke looking for another SICK shoulder breaker!” Pete does the play by play thing.

 

Kicking his legs violently Zyon not only slides down Hawke’s back, but also forces the champion to arch backward. Using what is left of his stamina Zyon counters the scoop into a scoop of his own. The International champ defenseless can only stare down at the mat as Zyon has Hawke in an inverted piledriver position. Freaking the world out Zyon uses his left arm as a cradle again!!!

 

No wait…

 

Is he…

 

FUCKING A! Zyon falls to both knees spiking Hawke to the mat with, get this…AN INVERTED FINAL HOUR!!!!!

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” King says shaking his head.

 

“That was insane. There is no way either man has anything left.”

 

Zyon looms over his opponent for a moment building the dramatics before seemingly passing out on his opponent!

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEE!!!!!

 

 

WE HAVE…actually Hawke kicked out~!!!!

 

The crowd along with the Unique Youth is livid…absolutely livid! Everyone except for those in Ohio plead for everything to everything that is right in the world for Jay motherfucking Hawke to just drop the title.

 

However, Hawke has made that title his life. The Dean of Professional Wrestling refuses to let go of his life!!! Zyon reaches his feet and slowly saunters toward the turnbuckle before ascending the stairway to heaven. Perched on the top rope Zyon is ready to end it all, but Hawke makes it back to his feet and even crotches the youth!!!

 

“OOOOO!”

 

The crowd releases as Zyon’s eyes bulge out. Hawke climbs up after Zyon raising his hands high into the air like the mighty Thor and get jabbed in the gut! With the playfulness of a beast Zyon pushes Hawke down to the mat…setting him up perfectly. Perched and ready to annihilate Zyon leaps into the atmosphere setting up a chain reaction of godliness. Gracefully falling toward his opponent Zyon can hear the crowd gasps in fear???? Blinded to Hawke rolling out of the ring Zyon collapses to the mat!

 

SMACKKK!!!

 

Zyon’s crash echoes as the crowd can only snap their finger and say darn…yeah right. They are mad yet glad that this exciting encounter can continue.

 

“Smarkdown just set the stage, Longdoggah. Hawke using the exact counter to the Final Flash that he used on Smarkdown! King points out.

 

Beaten, bruised, fatigued, damn near dead Hawke looks up at the crowd with his gazing eyes…and points at his head in a taunting gesture.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

Getting the response he was expecting the International champ leaps on to the ring apron waiting for Zyon to get to his feet…if he still can. The youth driven off all hope, tiredly gets to his feet as Hawke springboards into the air and drives Zyon to the mat with a grand flipping neck breaker!!!

 

“Blockbuster!!!” King shills.

 

“And STILL CHAMPION!” Hawke can hear Funyon’s sound barrier breaking voice as he covers Zyon.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEE

 

 

 

 

Kickout!!!

 

“YEAAAAAHHHHH!”

 

The crowd booms as Hawke refuses to believe the match is not over. Rising to his feet Hawke raises his hand and celebrates the “victory.” Referee Soapdish deliver the unfortunate news to Hawke who takes it quite well…

 

“BULLSHIT!”

 

The heel champion shouts before kicking the bottom rope. Looking out into the crowd Hawke’s ears begin to vibrate from the foolish chant…

 

“LET’S GO ZYON!!!!”

 

Booming the crowd shouts as Zyon removes himself from the mat and back to his feet. Hawke looking at Zyon with hatred fueling his motivation struts toward the youth who desperately tosses out a lariat????

 

Yep still a rookie.

 

The Dean of Professional Wrestling slickly ducks under locking the left arm of Zyon’s behind his back. Trapping it Hawke again tries to reach around for the youth’s face, but Zyon once again wraps his free arm around Hawke’s head. The technical god though swats the arm away before trying to reach over. The Unique Youth though pushes himself and a latched on Hawke forward before leaping into the air and pushing his feet off the turnbuckle rolling backward to his feet!

 

“YEAHHHH!”

 

The crowd reacts to the counter…

 

GASP….GASP…GASP!

 

Before reacting to the fact that Hawke rolled through as well clutching that left arm! The International champ has become a ravaged pit bull looking to end the match. Zyon fatigued and wickedly injured would find it so easy to give in and coincidentally tapping out before his shoulder rips. However, Zyon remembers the meat and bones of the wrestling business. It wasn’t about technical takedowns or flashy moves. Nope.

 

It was straight up brawling.

In a last ditch effort Zyon pulls his head forward before swinging it backward smashing into the face of his opponent!!!

 

CRRRRRAAACK!!

 

Hawke’s eyes begin to water as his grip has greatly loosened. Zyon just as persistent as Hawke swings his head backward again…

 

CRRRRRACK!!!

 

The pain gets the best of Hawke who releases Zyon and clutches his face as Zyon runs Hawke over with a lariat that actually works! Popping right back to his feet the International champion challenges Zyon to try it again. The youth boldly obliges as he charges and tosses his arm out giving Hawke the chance to take him down. Zyon though pulls his arm free before spinning around and kicking Hawke in the gut and attempting a DDT! Hawke though charges forward and slams Zyon back first into the turnbuckle. The Dean of Professional Wrestling reels back a right hand before having the head of Zyon slammed into his face again!!!

 

“This kid is willing to do anything to win the title. In this match he has added the brawling element to his cruiserweight offense…and Hawke was not ready for that.” Pete explains.

 

King is upset, “LIAR! Zyon is a fool. Yes the headbutt is a grand strike, but it hurts the giver as much as the receiver.”

 

Both men are right as Hawke clutches his face leaving Zyon to stagger around holding his head. Vision blurring Zyon charges one of the Jay Hawke’s in the ring before being launched into the air and over the ropes surprising the crowd by landing safely on the apron. Sweat drips down the face of Hawke who takes a step back and remembers his foundation…

 

“I’m going to teach to a wrestling lesson you will never forget…”

 

Hawke charges forward looking to drop the Unique Youth with whatever he has left to throw at him…

 

“And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it…”

 

The foundation has bought Hawke a place in history as the best International champion ever as he leaps forward noticing Zyon reel backward as well. The technical genius realizes his mistake and tries to get a defense, but it is too late. Weak and fatigue Zyon throws his right forearm forward blasting Hawke with all 200lbs of his heart and soul!!!! The champion spins away from Zyon before collapsing to the mat.

 

Zyon notices Hawke’s eyes have a unnatural gaze to them and understands the look is telling him that HAWKE MUST BE STOPPED NOW!!! The youth elevates himself with a springboard as he flies through the air and at the peak flips forward diving on to Hawke like a fallen angel with the F.I.N.A.L. F.L.A.S.H!!!!!!!!

 

Oh my god.

 

Zyon lies backward on Hawke who just had everything driven out of him…

 

ONE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

Could it be?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“HAWKE!!!!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

YESSSSS!!!!!!!!!

 

 

”HE DID IT!!!!”

 

The crowd explodes causing an earthquake like rumbling inside the Garden. Referee Nick Soapdish calls for the bell…which gets lost in the excitement. Both men remain motionless after a long grueling match. Funyon stands up secretly applauding both the Dean of Professional Wrestling and the Unique Youth! “Vitamin” starts up rocking the house as the announcers voice booms…

 

“The WINNER in FIFTY ONE MINUTES and TEN SECONDS, THE NEW SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPION, THE UNIQUE YOUTH….ZYYYYYOOON!!!!

 

It’s official.

 

“How did this happen???” King cups his head in his hands.

 

“YEEEEAAAAHHHHHHHEEAAHHHH!!!!”

 

The crowd yells while they give both men the much deserved standing ovation. The half dead youth after moments up reeling in and out of consciousness slowly gets to his feet realizing that he has dethroned the prince of technical. Funyon delivers the shiny gold belt to the new champion who takes a moment to mute the cheering, storming, and clamping to understand what he just did.

 

“Unbelievable. Zyon was able to fire of the Final Flash out of the hidden springboard position. That has never been seen before, thus Hawke wasn’t able to study the modified finisher. Both men relied on the past to beat each other down, yet one man turned to the future to pick up the victory…amazing.”

 

The Unique Youth continues to stare at the title while the crowd is worshipping their young hero like some sort of messiah. Knowing the crowd gave all they could to Zyon, the kid can only give them what they want. Holding the title in his right hand Zyon swings his arms high into the air signaling to the thousands in attendance…

 

“OHMYGODYESSSSSS!”

 

The crowd shouts as the tired champion leans against the ropes and exits the ring leaving Hawke to lie in the ring analyzing what went wrong. The Unique Youth makes his way up the special entrance ramp before turning back toward the mob like crowd and placing the title over his right shoulder. Turning away from the crowd a tired champion makes his exit understanding that he let it all out there in that very ring tonight.

 

“What a match. Hawke who currently lies unconscious in the ring did everything he could to derail the rookie, and I truly commend him for the show he gave this crowd tonight.” Pete says.

 

King usually shoots back, but the announcer is at a lost for words. Two men came into the match. A champion and a challenger. Old school vs. Nu SkoOL. Good vs. Evil. Going out of the match are two men who could have just possibly changed the face of wrestling forever…

 

And we are just midway through Genesis…

[JJ Johnson 0]

I know I promised Ward I'd critique his match if he lost, and so I'll do Zyon and Danny's as well, when I'm in a critiquing mood. Probably after I get my homework done.

[Hank Kingsley 0]

Both matches were outstanding, honestly.

 

I think what Jay beat you out in was the psychology of the match. I felt he integrated the story into the match a bit better, especially with the arm work. From both of you I definitely felt the "big match" vibe, but Jay was able to do so without coming off as over-the-top (except with a few of the near falls). Also, a problem I had with yours was (and this might just be my style) the lack of polish and grammar usage. It might just be because I'm anal and a soon-to-be English minor, but Jay's read a lot easier.

 

But I agree, as a marker of a lot of your previous matches (namely earlier ones), you've definitely come a long way and continue to impress me more and more. Keep it up!

[JHawk 0]

I will say this, Zyon. Had Superstar given you the win there, I would not have argued. In fact, I would have earmarked that one for next year's MOTY.

 

About the only thing I noticed that was wrong with that one was the grammar, and by the halfway point of the match I was so completely into the match that I was ignoring it.

 

Great job.

[Bruce Blank 0]

I'd love to see 3J's match for Genesis - I have found it helpful in the past to see other people's take on my character, it'd be interesting how he wrote Bruce in that match.

 

just curious

[JJ Johnson 0]

Trust me, you WOULDN'T like to see the match I wrote. Time constraints forced me to write the match as 1000 words of brawling, followed by Manson melting your head and me picking up the win that way.

 

If I had known the show was gonna be delayed three days, I would've written a far better match.