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SWF Smarkdown 12-5-05

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*BOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Fans, welcome to Smarkdown from Toledo, Ohio!” Longdogger Pete shouts. “Myself and the Suicide King are here at ringside as we count down to the Christmas Pay-Per-View!”

 

‘…AND I MUST BE SOME KIND OF GEEEENNIIIIUUUUUUSSSSSSSS!”

 

“Uh-oh,” Pete says as the strains of ‘Genius’ by Pitchshifter crank up over the PA System, “we both know what this means, King.”

 

“Yes,” the Gambling Man replies with resignation, “another idiot is coming out to waste valuable oxygen. The fact that this one manages a vaguely talented tag team doesn’t make it any easier to stomach.”

 

Sure enough, the royal purple spotlight has picked out the familiar long-haired and sharp-suited figure of Chris Card as Technical Perfection makes his way down the ramp. The former SJL European Champion climbs the ring steps before clambering through the ropes and adjusting the creases in his suit, then demanding the microphone from Funyon.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Card begins in his half-English, half-Canadian accent, “I’d like to say what a pleasure it is to be here in Toledo… but that would be a bald-faced lie, so I won’t bother.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Regardless of how pleasant it would be to stand here and insult your hometown for hours on end -and believe me, there’s a lot to insult- I do have a schedule to keep to,” Card declares, drawing a few more boos, “so please don’t feel that any of you are actually worth my time. In fact,” he continues, “the only two people in this company who are worth my time are in the locker room right now, and one of them has a match this evening. I refer, of course, to your World Tag Team Champions, TKO!”

 

This statement gets a mixed reception. A lot of the fans boo when they hear the name but quite a few cheer, especially the TKO Section seated at ringside who even start a small ‘T!K!O!’ chant. Card looks over at them and smirks.

 

“Hey, you guys!” he calls, pointing. “Just a quick question; those of you with the new TKO shirts on, with the Kanji writing - do you know what they say?”

 

The guys in question, several of whom are indeed wearing the new TKO shirts with Kanji on the front and back, look blank and shake their heads. Card’s grin grows wider.

 

“Well a quick tip for you. The back of them says; ‘I can’t read Kanji’.”

 

They nod.

 

“The front says; ‘Idiot’.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“What? What!?” Card protests as the arena voices its displeasure, “are you telling me that you’d happily wear an item of clothing without knowing what it actually says?

 

“I hate to say it, but he has a point,” Longdogger Pete mutters, then looks at the Suicide King. “King, what are you doing?

 

“Checking,” the Heartbreaker replies.

 

“…do I want to know what you were checking, in your pants?

 

“These boxers with the Arabic script on them,” King replies. “I swear the girl who sold them to me said it meant-”

 

“WE DON’T WANT TO KNOW!”

 

Meanwhile in the ring, happily removed from the perils of a misinterpreted crotch, Chris Card is soaking in the negative reactions from the crowd. However Technical Perfection does indeed have a schedule to keep to, and he raises his microphone again.

 

“You see, I have been asked to make a request on behalf on TORU Takahara,” Card states, “a request regarding his match at the Christmas Pay-Per-View. We understand that if TORU wins the Fatal Fourway he is in this evening he will be entitled to name the stipulation of whatever match he is competing in at the Pay-Per-View. That’s all well and good, but TORU would like to make a more specific request:

 

“He would like to make sure that whatever match he is in, it does not involve Jay Hawke.”

 

“…say what?” Pete says in confusion, “why on earth would TORU ask that?”

 

“This is Card,” King replies, “it’s not like he doesn’t love the sound of his own voice; he’ll tell us soon enough.”

 

“This request is not out of any fear of Jay Hawke,” Card states, proving King right, “oh no, far from it. In fact, TORU is bored. Bored of Jay Hawke, and in fact bored of Cucaracha Internacional; just as bored as KOJI is, come to that. You see, since debuting in the SWF TORU and KOJI have beaten Landon and Hawke in a hardcore tag match; they’ve beaten them for the Tag Titles in a ladder match; TORU beat Jay Hawke in the Cold Front Classic, and now on Lockdown they beat Landon and Hawke again. The only member of Cucaracha Internacional who is even worthy to be in the same ring as us is JJ Johnson… and that’s debatable,” Card finishes with a sly sneer. “You got lucky against KOJI in that cruiserweight title match, and even more lucky that due to an ongoing back problem KOJI is now only fit to compete in tag matches, so he can’t have another go at you. Rest assured my friend, should you get into the ring with TORU it’ll be a different story… and you never know, that just might happen!”

 

Chris Card flashes a smirk at the four corners of the arena, prompting another rain of boos. Not because he’s badmouthing Cucaracha Internacional - simply because he’s an obnoxious scumbag.

 

“It hasn’t escaped our notice that you’ve advanced in the Cold Front Classic too, JJ,” Card says, “by the truly strenuous means of beating up a little girl, of course. Then there’s Spike Jenkins and the Masked Crusader, who might actually succeed in having a match this time. Any one of those three could face TORU in the next round, depending how the brackets go. But perhaps the fourth option is the most interesting; Johnny Dangerous.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Johnny, you are without question a lying, cheating scumhole who would stab your best friend in the back for a slice of cake and whore your mother for another sniff at the World Title that you’ve notably failed to cling onto for more than a couple of weeks at a time,” Card says. “In fact, if you weren’t such a pathetic, James Bond-worshipping loser I might even like you for your complete lack of anything approaching a moral code. However, what I don’t like is the fact that you’ve involved yourself with Bruce Blank, a man who is not popular with TKO.”

 

“It’s easy to understand why,” Pete reminds viewers, “Bruce Blank and Marcus Ward handed TKO their only tag team loss to date in the SWF, and the big redneck prevented TORU from competing against Max King a couple of weeks ago to give the Japanese Hammer a technical loss!”

 

“Therefore Johnny,” Card resumes, “if you were thinking of bringing your hired gun along to help you against TORU, should the two of you meet in the Cold Front Classic, I want to assure you that both you and he will be met with the sort of reception that you deserve! And Bruce, if you win tonight against Max King and get to challenge TKO for the Tag Titles then it doesn’t matter who you pick as your partner, you can even dig Marcus Ward out of hiding if you want, because TORU and KOJI will show you who the dominant tag team in the SWF is. And if either of you gentlemen have a problem with that…”

 

Chris Card grins, and takes a moment to cross his thumbs over his heart.

 

“…then you’ll just have to DEAL WITH IT!”

 

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT

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The Smarks Wrestling Federation Presents...

SWF SMARKDOWN, LIVE, MONDAY, DECEMBER 5th, FROM THE SOLD OUT TOLEDO SPORTS ARENA, TOLEDO, OHIO!

 

Send all materials (marked matches promos, dead batteries, etc.) to chirs3 by 8:00 PM, EST.

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

We cross back over just across the bridge to our favorite state... MICHIGAN! I mean... ILLINOIS!... I mean... ONTARIO!... Wait, that's not a state. Ah hell, we're in Toledo, but there's a ton of Pre-PPV madness going on. You're not gonna want to miss this one!

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

Opening Promo: Not Yet Called

 

MAIN EVENT: CAGE MATCH!

“The Icon” Max King vs. Bruce Blank© (SWF Ultraviolent Champion)

-> Well, if this pairing wasn’t finished before it started, this is definitely the end! After Max adding in his own little stipulation to the challenge, we only thought it fair to ask Blank what type of stipulation he’d like. Being a ‘fair’ man, he asked for a Cage Match – Escape rules, of course, because ‘that’s the only way this punk has a chance of beating me’. With no pins to end this match quick, it's definitely gonna get ugly in there!

Rules: Escape. First one to touch the floor wins. The cage door will be locked as per usual. Inside the cage, anything goes. Whoever wins the match will get a Tag Team Title shot with a partner of their choice.

 

 

FANTASTIC FATAL FOURWAY

El Luchadore Magnifico© (SWF World Champion) vs. Jay Hawke © (SWF International Title Champion) vs. TORU Takahara© (SWF Tag Team Champion) vs. Stryke

-> MOTHER OF ALL THAT IS HOLY! What the heck is going on? Well, each of these guys is almost definitely going to be in a PPV match of some sort, and CC wants reward the guys who are really making things happen. So they’ve tacked this on to the match: Whoever wins this match will get to decide the stipulation of their PPV match!

Rules: Standard Fatal Fourway – One fall, only two guys in the ring at any time, people can be individually DQed, and tag ins are necessary to switch in. The winner will get to pick his match stipulation at the Christmas PPV.

 

 

CRUISERWEIGHT TITLE MATCH: PURE WRESTLING RULES

JJ Johnson© (SWF Cruiserweight Champion) vs. Landon Maddix

->Landon wants to be a real wrestler? Well, his stablemate has decided to give him a helping hand. At the request of the Cruiserweight Champion, we’re going to have a pure wrestling exhibition for the Cruiserweight Title. How much has Landon really learned?

Rules: Pure Wrestling, which is

-Each wrestler gets three rope breaks

-Use a rope break, lose a rope break. Once you're out, submissions in the ropes are legal.

-Punches to the head are illegal, and cost you a rope break. If you're out of rope breaks, it's a DQ.

-20 count on the outside.

- On a disqualification, the title does change hands.

 

 

SINGLES MATCH

Akira ‘The Divine Wind’ Kaibatsu vs. ???

-> Well, everyone wants a piece of Bruce Blank, don’t they? Max King has it in for him, and now we have Akira coming out and challenging him to a PPV match! So we are pulling out someone just as hardcore for him to take on from the SWF’s past… But just who is it? Tune in and find out!

Rules: Standard Match

 

 

COLD FRONT CLASSIC MATCH: TAKE TWO

The Masked Crusader vs. ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins

-> Despite ELM ending the match prematurely on Storm, Joseph Peters doesn’t like the idea of the World Champion interfering with the Cold Front Classic. Therefore, Spike and the Masked Man get a special ‘second chance’ at Smarkdown, with ELM banned from ringside. Hopefully both will show up with the ‘A’ game. Of course, if they don’t, they may just get another ringside visitor…

Rules: Standard Match.

 

 

TRIPLE THREAT MATCH OF MOTIVATION

Manson vs. Candace ‘The Joshi Dragon’ Onimura vs. Zyon

-> Things haven’t been too hot for either of these three, but CC would love to see that change. That’s why CC is offering a prize of some sort to whoever wins this match: maybe it’s a title shot, maybe its money, maybe it’s even a new car! Who knows? Only CC. But these three better wrestle with all their hearts if they want to find out!

Rules: Standard Triple Threat. One pinfall, and you can be individually DQed.

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The Toldedo Sports Arena finishes seating all of the possible stragglers or little punks who possibly snuck their way in. The crowded sports arena talks to those sitting next to them about the upcoming show hoping that their favorite wrestling federation will deliver.

 

And when has it NOT delivered.

 

“Welcome folks to another extravagant addition of SWF Smarkdown. As you know I’m Longdogga Pete.” Pete does his bland introduction.

 

“And I am the best wrestler to ever grace the squared circle. Many know me throughout the world as a symbol of worship, and a hero. I am the Suicide King.” King is indeed a legend in his own mind.

 

“Ugh…wow. Anyway tonight’s card looks fantastic. We continue the Cold Front Classic tonight with a rematch when Hollywood Spike Jenkins will face off against the mysterious Masked Crusader. I, along with the crowd should also be looking forward to the battle of stable mates when JJ Johnson will defend his cruiserweight title against Landon Maddix.” Pete hypes up the card.

 

“As intriguing as those contests sound. I must disagree with your…lame ass opinion “IwishIwasascoolasSuicideKing” Pete. Tonight is all about Ultra Violence. Extreme takes center stage tonight when Bruce Blank faces off against “The Icon” Max King in tonight’s main event.”

 

Before the announcers can bring on the bickering, the SWF proudly produces the opening match…

 

“I’m Born!”

 

“I’m Alive!”

 

“I Breathe!”

 

The familiar words appear on the too many zeros Smarktron signaling for the crowd to leap to their feet. The Ohio crowd erupts as “Vitamin” plays over the booming sound system. Without the normal dramatic build up, Zyon explodes through the black curtain showing himself to the thousands on their feet. Saluting the crowd, Zyon fires off an awkward wave before speeding down the ramp.

 

“Coming to the ring hailing from Elkhart, Indiana, and weighing in at 200 lbs. The Unique Youth…ZYON!!!!”

 

“The crowd absolutely loves this man. He made his return last week, and just fell short against our dominating cruiserweight champion.” Pete remarks.

 

“Fell short? Shoot, he fell a long way down before being destroyed by a top rope dragon suplex.” King does tell the harsh truth.

 

Stalling on the ring apron, Zyon slingshots himself over the top rope landing on his feet crispfully inside the ring.

 

“You stare at me like I'm a vitamin.

On the surface you hate,

but you know you need me.

I'll come dressed as any pill you deem fit.

Whatever helps you swallow truth all the more easily.”

 

The hypnotizing chorus plays as Zyon flows into a slow motion head bang before raising his arms…

 

“YEAHHHHHH!”

 

The crowd cheer as the youth rubs his neck slightly proving to the skeptics that he is still reeling from the top rope dragon suplex of DOOM!!! Smiling, Zyon slowly backs into a random corner while he awaits his opponents.

 

Suddenly “China Girl” by David Bowie plays across the arena as the male manager Frisco is the first to appear. Smug, and waiting for his star pupil the manager steps aside as a feminine shadow appears. The Joshi Dragon makes her way down the ramp while flaunting her looks to the pervs located in the front row. You can’t miss them, they are the one’s that seem to be grabbing at the air. Frisco walks down behind his prize wrestler making sure nothing goes wrong until the young foreigner makes it to the ring.

 

“This lady has made a name for herself on her sheer will alone.” Pete commends the Joshi Dragon.

 

“Candace along with her manager will hopefully figure out that sheer will can only get you so far.” King is once again brutally honest.

 

Reaching the ring, Frisco takes his place at the side as the star import rolls into the ring taking the time to flaunt her beauty…

 

“And his opponent hailing from Tokyo, Japan, and weighing in at 124 lbs. Candace THE JOSHI DRAGON Okimura.”

 

The female veteran analyzes her surroundings noticing the brilliant man made signs, the cheering wrestling marks, and her opponent across the ring. The lightweight believes she is ready to win this match of motivation.

 

Then again so is this man.

 

The lights dim as Mastodon’s “Crusher Destroyer” blasts across Toledo. The jeering crowd rises to their feet to greet the creator of “Mansonosity.” And with a single sway of the curtain the hated villain has arrived.

 

“BOOOOOO!!”

 

The no nonsense Raging Bull saunters to the ring ignoring the infidels in the front row. Breathing heavily, Manson reaches the ring before immediately entering it.

 

“And their opponent, hailing from Denver, Colorado, and weighing in at 260 lbs. The Raging Bull…MANSON!!!!”

 

Funyon ends his announcing duties as referee Nick Soapdish prepares to start the first match of the night. Both Zyon and Candace energetically hop around, while the cold calculating Manson stares a hole through his opponents. Soapdish makes the familiar hand signal towards the timekeeper’s table.

 

Ding

 

Ding

 

DING!

 

The crowd sits back as they get ready to enjoy the ride that is SWF Smarkdown. The three competitors circle the ring, all ready and willing to make the first strike. Candace the weakest of the trio takes a step forward initiating both males to be on their guard. The foreign female though thinks better and takes a step back while Frisco begins to bark orders toward his pupil. Hesitantly plodding, Manson continues to prepare his onslaught of pain. Before the crowd can get restless, Zyon decides to break the tension by lunging toward Candace with a clothesline. Weak, but insanely quick, Candace easily ducks and wraps her arms around the body of Zyon. The youth struggles to break out of the reverse waist lock, as his eyes quickly multiply in size as the sight of a charging Manson can scare even the iron clad. Fidgeting with the hands of the female, Zyon notices a huge boot come his way…before breaking free and moving away as quick as possible.

 

Candace on the other hand…

 

SMACK!!!

 

The heavy boot of Manson collides with the pretty face of the young Japanese warrior. Crashing into the canvas, Candace rolls out on to the ring apron trying to get away from the powerhouse. Even though Manson never smiles, many in the arena can see that he is quite pleased with himself. The raging bull decides to dash into action as his twisted mind forms a plan of punishment for the small Joshi Dragon. However, Candace reels back and places a forearm into the charging Manson. Dazed, the raging bull turns into another forearm, this time in the form of Zyon!

“Looks like the two lightweights have something in store for Manson.” Pete thinks.

 

Suddenly, the harsh villain finds himself in a whirlwind of forearms as the two cruiserweights unleash a flurry of forearms on the harsh Manson. Zyon begins to get overanxious and attempts a dropkick that Manson swats away like the Unique Youth was a fly. Alone to face Manson, Candace leaps into the air with a springboard before dropping a missile dropkick into the chest of Manson!!! Okimura quickly rolls on top of Manson…

 

ONE…power kick out.

 

Manson uses his brute strength, and powers out of the pin attempt, throwing Candace on referee Nick Soapdish who must believe he is the luckiest man in the world right now. Scampering to his feet, Manson stomps toward Candace who is back on her feet. Bold and Beautiful, Candace unleashes a wicked kick toward the leg of Manson.

 

SMACK!

 

Manson’s face turns to grimace as the lady fires off another shot…

 

SMACK!

 

Again…

 

SMACK!

 

Again…

 

SMACK!

 

Agai…oh wait nope.

 

Before the tree known as Manson can be fully chopped down, the tree strikes with a heavy branch to Candace’s face. Visibly ticked off, Manson looks down on the Joshi Dragon who is currently in defense mode. Lucky for the lady, Zyon is to the rescue. The young cruiserweight sneaks up on Manson and takes the giant out with a chop block to the same leg that Okimura kicked at. Manson’s knee gets trapped between the mat and Zyon’s arm, which leaves his back to bend in an awkward angle, which in turn causes the chop block to look all the more nastier. Both Zyon and Candace lift Manson from his knee and Irish whip him into the turnbuckle. Zyon communicates with Candace both verbally and physically, and Candace smacks Zyon in the face????

 

“Hahahah. I think Candace thinks that Zyon just asked her to…”

 

“King!!!”

 

“What?”

 

“This may not be Lockdown, but there are some things we can not elaborate on. But for those at home I think that slap was a visible “no” to whatever Candace thinks Zyon said.” Pete elaborates…when he said they shouldn’t.

 

Zyon rubs his check as a look of shock comes over his face. Before the two break into a brawl, Frisco shouts instructions to the Joshi Dragon, in Japanese of course. The female warrior gets down on all fours by the turnbuckle as Zyon retreats to the opposite turnbuckle.

 

“I think we’ve seen this move used by Zyon and Spike Jenkins before.” Pete is informative.

 

The crowd cheer as Zyon charges forward and….

 

 

PUTS A BOOT RIGHT INTO THE RIBS OF CANDACE!!!!

 

“oooooOOOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd echoes as Candace’s eyes bulge from their sockets, and her face develops into a purple shadow!

 

“Hey is Zyon trying to get me to like him?” King wonders.

 

Before the gambling man can start praising Zyon, the youth looks out into the crowd and simply shrugs his shoulders.

 

“Ah I see. Zyon understands that this is a triple threat match, ya know. All against all.” Pete brings the psychology.

 

Frisco angrily shouts at Zyon, who basically doesn’t care what the manager has to say. He does care that Manson has leaped out of the turnbuckle and has struck the youth down with a flying clothesline!!! Zyon clutches his throat, but is able to pull himself back to his feet. Manson though is quite relentless and places a knee to the gut of Zyon. The former hardcore champ clutches his gut while doubled over…leaving his neck open for attack.

 

CRACK!

 

Manson The Stampede without hesitation drops a sharp elbow to the back of Zyon’s neck dropping the youth swiftly. Manson latches on to Zyon’s head, pulling the youngster back to his feet. Raising his hand into the air like the imaginary hand of god, Manson drops a closed first right between the startled eyes of his male opponent. Zyon wishes he could drop to the mat, but Manson holds on to the patron wrestler of Athens hand forcing the youth to stay on his feet. Once again, Zyon’s eyes grow as Manson pulls the cruiserweight into a short arm clothesline attempt, but Zyon ducks avoiding having his head taken off. Silently on the other side of the ring, Candace orders something of her manager while Zyon kicks Manson in the right leg, which can now be deemed the bad one. Dropping to one knee, Manson can only watch as Zyon bounces off the ropes and places a firm dropkick to the face of his adversary.

 

And the opening has indeed opened.

 

Frisco leaps on the apron forcing the refs attention to him.

 

“What is that crazy goof doing?” King wonders.

 

Candace pulls herself up taking a moment to clutch her rib before strutting over to Zyon who sees the angry warrior. Candace swiftly unleashes a high kick, but Zyon gets a defense for the shot…

 

That never comes.

 

With an insane fake, Okimura goes low with a swift strike right between the uprights!!!

 

“YEAHHHHH!”

 

The crowd explodes, as they love to see the underdog get their revenge.

 

“I though this Okimura was honorable and stuff. I mean don’t get me wrong, I applaud the young lady for that.” King wonders.

 

Pete answers, “I guess she found Zyon’s act of deception to be heavily against whatever moral code she follows.”

 

Obviously hurting, Zyon drops to both knees holding on to what every man holds dear. Immediately, the pain of the previous kick exits Zyon’s mental state as he notices that the young female has him perfectly set up for the BUZZSAW KICK!

 

“Oh shit…”

 

Zyon mouths as Okimura lowers the boom on a stunned Zyon!!!!!

 

CRRRRACK!!!!!!

 

“He got him!” Pete shouts.

 

Zyon falls to the mat motionless as Frisco screams at Candace to cover the unconscious Zyon. She complies.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH…break up.

 

Before Soapdish can finish his count, Manson aggressively lifts Candace off of Zyon’s living corpse. The excited female tries to fight out of the serial killer like grip with sloppy closed fists. The monstrous Manson ignores the blows and tosses Candace into the ropes. Limping, Manson takes a step forward as the Joshi Dragon shoots off the ropes. The raging bull catches Candace at the peak of her momentum and tosses her with a snap overhead belly-to-belly suplex.

 

“What a chain of moves that was. First Manson threw Candace into the ropes causing the young female to pick up momentum. The Manson used her own velocity to make his railgun suplex stronger.” Pete informs the audience.

 

Candace finishes floating through the air before crashing to he mat. On impact Candace immediately clutches her back as Manson slowly makes his way toward the fallen Japanese import. Frisco continues to shout unknown Japanese toward his fallen pupil, but it seems to have the effect of none. The angry raging bull stalks his prey as he waits for the Joshi Dragon to pull herself up.

 

“Get up you little bitch!”

 

Manson…always the gentlemen.

 

“BOOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd responds to the verbal abuse Manson gives Candace. The Joshi Dragon heroically rises to her feet with both arms hanging by her side. In other words, the frail female is defenseless. For once the bitter Manson unleashes a smile until dashing forward with his dangerous WESTERN LARIATOOOO!!!!!

 

“Watch Candace’s head rip from her shoulders, Pete. This is going to be great.” King is slightly sadistic tonight.

 

The lariat fires off toward Candace who’s eyes shut ready to take the blow head on, which would remarkable kill the Joshi Dragon. However, the Japanese veteran values her life and ducks her head.

 

SWISH!

 

The powerful lariat misses giving many in the front row a delightful breeze. Instinctively, Candace slithers behind Manson and locks on a reverse waist lock before lifting with all her HEART AND SOUL!!!!

 

“YEAHHHHHHHH!!!!”

 

The crowd cheers on the female who has a confused Manson a few inches off the ground.

 

“She’s going to do it!” Pete shills.

 

Frisco along with the Toledo Sports Arena cannot believe their eyes. So they’ll believe their ears as the violent Manson scoffs…

 

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

 

Suddenly, Manson shifts his weight downward as the Joshi Dragon’s grip loosens dramatically…

 

CRACK!!!

 

…Just enough for Manson to fire off a rabid elbow to the gorgeous face of his opponent. The furious Manson faces Candace and wraps his hand around the lightweights throat. With one hand, Manson the stampede hurls Candace in the air with a choke slam and attempts to drive her to the mat…

 

 

But fails!!!!

 

Improvising, Candace locks her legs around the head of Manson. Now any other time, Manson would welcome such an action, but this would be the exception. Tensing her muscles, Candace attempts to take the heavyweight over. Manson though balances himself as Candace pulls backward. The Joshi Dragon touches the mat with the top of her head, and Manson still refuses to be taken over. The momentum shifts again as Manson with one loud deep scream lifts Candace into the air.

 

“Manson end this by breaking Candace.” King orders from the announce table.

 

Before Manson can oblige, Zyon staggers over to the battle and places a diving shoulder to the wide-open gut of Manson. A chain of events take place as Manson doubles over and the resilient Joshi Dragon succeeds in her trial to take Manson over with a hurricarana.

 

“YEAHHHH!”

 

The crowd explodes as Candace leans backward and hooks the leg of her opponent.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

TWO…break up.

 

The Cinderella story gets put on pause, as Zyon break the pin attempt up. Both cruisers remain on their feet before the female one strikes! Candace throws a high kick, for real this time, but the result is the same. The high kick never actually hits. Easily, Zyon ducks another headshot as Candace spins 180 degrees into a kick to the gut. The youth latches on to a front face lock before lifting Candace into the air…and stalling?

 

“This has to be the first time Zyon has ever used a stalling suplex.” Pete announces.

 

“Ha. And it looks like the loser is struggling to keep her up in the air.” King points out.

 

The Zyon hater would be correct as the female ring general floats over on to her feet, and drops Zyon with a shocking neck breaker!

 

“Ah!”

 

Zyon lets out as he clutches his hurt neck. Candace rolls on to her stomach before pulling herself up. Unaware of the raging bull, Candace runs toward the ropes and slingshots off of them. Floating through the air, the Joshi Dragon performs a dazzling moonsault, and lands perfectly on the shoulder of Manson.

 

 

Wait a minute….

 

The crowd is shocked as Manson staggers back a few steps before gaining control of the female warrior. Sadistic, Manson charges forward and dumps Candace HEAD FIRST TO THE OUTSIDE!!!

 

CRASH!!!!

 

“Holy shit…”

 

A minor chant starts as Candace lands face first on the unforgiving ring floor. Frisco immediately runs over to check on his unconscious client.

 

“OH MY GOD, King! She could be dead!” Pete freaks out.

 

“Now I’d say dead is a bit far fetched. Now she may never be able to walk again, but dead c’mon.” King plays it off like it’s no big deal.

 

Manson stares at the motionless Candace before he realizes that there is still one more bug to smash. Smelling blood, Manson spins around before taking a full on ROLLING ELBOW from Zyon!!!!

 

CRRRACK!

 

“A move that he picked up from JJ Johnson no doubt.” King makes a good point.

 

Manson staggers back into the ropes as Zyon takes a step back…and charges. The youth whips his arm back before firing it forward knocking Manson over the top with a heavy clothesline. The selfish individual lands on his feet, albeit a little bit sloppy. The crowd rises to their feet as Zyon takes a moment to rub his head before getting that crazy look in his eye. Insane, Zyon turns and runs off the opposite ropes, and charges back toward Manson WHO HAS LEAPED ON TO THE APRON! Zyon attempts to slow down, but he instead finds himself with Manson’s enormous hand around his throat. Struggling, Zyon reaches for Manson and scrapes the cold eyes of his opponent!!!!

 

“YES!” Pete shills.

 

Blinded, the furious stampede ignores the irritation of his eyes and lifts Zyon high into the air…and slams him to the canvas with a vicious choke slam!!!!

 

“DAMN!” King echoes the fans sentiments.

 

Zyon bounces off the mat as Manson takes the time to read through his vision that is blurred. Obviously, the monster can only have “Mansonality” on his mind as the furious raging bull begins to ascend the top rope. Manson the stampede can barely keep his balance, but he patiently waits for Zyon to rise. Candace just like the land she is from rises on the outside taking a few moments to make sure that her brain isn’t bleeding since the sight of Manson on the top rope is simply insane. Seeing an open opportunity, the opportunistic Joshi Dragon hops on to the ring apron and shakes the top rope.

 

“OOOOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd echoes as Manson immediately loses whatever balance he had and finds himself crotched on the top rope.

 

“Manson may never have kids because of that wench.” King actually feels sorry for someone.

 

“Good. The world is a better place in my eyes.” And Pete actually does not feel sympathetic for someone.

 

Manson’s face blushes a beet red as Zyon makes it back to his feet. Once again the two cruisers make eye contact, and this time they have a common goal. The two lightweights ascend the turnbuckle as the crowd gets a whiff of what is to come. Both individuals place Manson in a front face lock…

 

“Oh my….” Pete can only let out before it happens.

 

Candace and Zyon pull backward as all three competitors crash to the mat after the DOUBLE TEAM SUPPPPAPLEX ON MANSON!!!!!

 

“YEAHHHHH!!!”

 

The crowd explodes as the cruiserweights rise to their feet. Candace with a “ladies first” mentality falls on top of Manson…

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

“She’s got him!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE….break up!

 

Zyon pushes Candace off of the wounded Manson before covering the raging bull himself!

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…break up!

 

Candace this time pushes Zyon off as both competitors rise to their feet. Frisco once again sticks his nose in the match. This time Zyon isn’t going to let the manager distract the ref…

 

CRACK!!!

 

And with that Frisco falls off the apron after a devastating elbow smash. Of course, Zyon doesn’t realize that Frisco did indeed distract him long enough for Candace to shuffle her feet and throw another BUZZSAW KICK….FOOL! Zyon’s eyes grow to the size of carnival pumpkins, as the crowd prepares for the impact.

 

CRRRRRRSWISH!

 

Just in time Zyon ducks the kick, and places a knee to Candace’s gut. Zyon then places a doubled over Candace in a standing head scissor.

 

“YEAH!”

 

The crowd cheer, as they know the FINAL HOUR is being set up. Candace continues to fight an up hill battle, as Zyon begins to gain leverage.

 

Oh remember that Manson fella.

 

Suddenly, the stampede limping and all charges and throws a sloppy yet universally destructive WESTERN LARIAT toward Zyon who is tied up with Candace. This time the youth is forced to nut up and take the shot!!!!

 

CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRSWISH!!!”

 

Zyon though ducks the lariat by bending over to lift Candace. Speaking of which, Candace uses her feminine strength to back drop Zyon to the mat. Candace stumbles forward toward Manson who furiously throws his wounded leg toward Candace who catches it! Realizing his mistake Manson is going to hate himself in the morning as Candace perform a dragon screw sending Manson to the mat clutching his leg. Manson is absolutely furious, so he sets up…right into the BUZZSAW KICK!!!!!

 

CRRRRRRRRRRRACK!!!!

 

“YEAHHHHH!!”

 

Manson’s face seemingly caves in as his eyes roll into the back of his head. Luckily for Manson we did not just experience a “Candaceality” but a simple knockout blow.

 

The crowd cheers as Candace pumps her fist. Frisco though now awake points at Candace to turn around. She obliges and takes a kick to the gut as Zyon places one of Candace’s flailing arms between her legs, and lifts…

 

Could it be?

 

Yep, a pump handle 911 AERO DRIVAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

 

“Oh my…did you see her head.” Pete can barely watch.

 

“Now that was a spike. I guess that is known as the 911 Aero Driver!” King brings the Indy knowledge.

 

Of course to Frisco and Candace that move is but a memory…Zyon goes for the cover…

 

ONE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!

 

“YEAHHHHHHHHH!!!”

 

The crowd erupts for one of their favorites, as both Manson and Candace lay unconscious in the ring. Frisco enters the ring to check on Candace as Zyon rolls out of the ring…

 

DING…

 

DING…

 

DING!!!

 

Soapdish gives a late signal as Funyon gives a late announcement.

 

“The winner, the UNIQUE YOUTH ZYYYYON!”

 

“Vitamin” plays as Zyon rubs at his neck that was slightly injured from last weeks loss to JJ Johnson. This week though, Zyon leaves the ring victorious over two stars who were motivated to pick up the “W.”

 

“What an opener. Zyon back on the winning trail, and next we another match of the Cold Front Classic, stay tuned.”

 

The camera pans on to Zyon having his hand raised by referee Nick Soapdish before SWF goes to commercial.

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A backstage SWF camera sees Akira Kaibatsu, and a mysterious oriental man in a wheel chair. Akira seems to be catering to the strangers needs . . . but Mr. Kobe seems less than sympathetic. Thankfully. SWF has some great staff on hand, and a voice over translator helps out the Smarks.

 

 

“Are you sure you’re ok Toshiaki?” Akira sounds worried “You don’t need me to get you anything?”

 

“Yes, yes I will be fine” The man, apparently named Toshiaki answers.

 

“You know I didn’t mean to injure you that while ago . . . I was young” Akira still seems sorry about something.

 

“You still are young,” Mr. Kobe is visibly annoyed at this situation.

 

Ignoring Kobe, Toshiaki responds “Yes, yes I know, and I’m not bitter. I gave you a new devastating move, didn’t I?” Toshiaki, grumbles “Besides, it probably wasn’t the best thing for me to do, accepting a deathmatch later on in my career from you” Toshiaki finishes.

 

At the word ‘deathmatch’ Akira’s head drops, not like at a move, but like his dog died. “Now if you’ll excuse us Mr. Taue, Mr. Kobe and I have to get ready for my match. We don’t even know who it is. Nice of you to drop by. Have fun with the friend you’re meeting”

 

Akira and Mr. Kobe walk down a corridor, with Toshiaki Taue rolling his wheel chair down the opposite one.

 

“You don’t need to apologize to him, you know,” Kobe lectures. “After all, he’s the reason you don’t live in Japan anymore.”

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SWF Smarkdown returns from commercial break and goes straight down to Pete and King.

 

“The next match was scheduled to take place last week, but El Luchadore Magnifico decided to hold back the Cold Front Classic for a week by attacking both men with the Mexican flag!” starts Pete.

 

“But he was right,” retorts King, “Neither of these two men deserve to get another shot at ELM!”

 

“We’ll see about that at the end of this match,” says Pete, “Lets go down to the ring!”

 

Funyon stands in the middle of the ring, microphone in hand as he begins the introductions.

 

“This match is scheduled for one fall and is a first round match of the Cold Front Classic!” booms Funyon.

 

"ALLOW ME TO RE-INTRODUCE MYSELF!"

 

"MY NAME IS..."

 

 

*BOOM!*

 

“First, making his way to the ring. Weighing in at a total of Two Hundred and Seventy-three pounds! He hails from Cairo, Egypt! He is THE MASKED CRUSAAAAAADERRRRRRRR!!!”

 

Large, maroon pyro goes off and the Masked Crusader steps onto the ramp, walking coldly to the ring.

 

“Spike is supposed to wrestle THAT guy? No chance in hell!”

 

“AND HIS OPPONENT!”

 

Every light in the arena goes to full power as the Smarktron whites out. For a moment the only sound is that of a needle scratching over vinyl...

 

 

And then *BAM*

 

The crashing guitars of Lamb of God’s “Black Label” send a bolt through the crowd. The drumming sends a jolt throughout the arena, as the pace of the intro begins to pick up. Finally…

 

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

 

The high-pitched scream of Randy Blythe breaks through the speakers as the bright white lights begin flashing at the entranceway. As the scream hits the crowd, Spike walks out wearing a black hoodie on, the hood covering most of his face. Spike drops down to one knee, leaving one arm to hang to the ground, while the other is firmly placed on his knee. After a few moments, Spike raises both arms into an “X”, symbolizing his Straight Edge life style. Spike rises to his feet and begins to make his way down the isle towards the ring.

 

“Weighing in at a total of Two Hundred and Twenty pounds! Hailing from Hollywood, California! He is “Hollywood” Spiiiiiiiiike Jeeeeeeenkinnnnnssssssss!”

 

“Both men look ready to attack and not let another run in or any other interruption stop them!” notes Pete.

 

Spike slides into the ring and immediately jumps to his feet. Crusader charges at Jenkins, his arm outstretched for a clothesline, but Spike ducks and runs into the opposite ropes. He bounces off and charges at the Masked Man, leaping into the air and driving his shoulder into his opponents shoulder. The only problem is The Masked Crusader outweighs Spike by a good fifty pounds, thus the shoulder block has no effect.

 

“Spike Jenkins trying to knock over the bigger Masked Crusader,” notes Pete, “There is no way this is going to work.”

 

Crusader laughs at the smaller Jenkins and tells him to try it again. Spike charges into the side ropes, bounces off and leaps at the Masked Man, connecting with another inefficient blow. Crusader points back to the ropes and Spike charges forward…

 

 

 

 

…But comes to a sudden halt, back flips and connects with a Koppa kick to the top of Crusaders head! Spike gets to his feet, sees the giant stumbling around, and leaps into the air once more, connecting with a standing enziguri to the back of the Masked Crusaders head! Jenkins gets to his feet again and watches as the bigger Masked Crusader wobbles back and forth.

 

“Spike is trying to knock the big man down!”

 

“TIMBER!”

 

Spike runs back into the ropes, bounces off and charges at the Crusader. His elbow outstretched for a blow to the face, Jenkins flies towards his opponent…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…Only to be caught in his giant arms, spun around, and driven into the mat with a huge powerslam! Crusader hooks the leg for the cover and the advancement into the second round of the Cold Front Classic!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH---NO! Spike kicks out!

 

“Spike’s speed is no match for The Masked Crusaders power, Pete!” laughs King, “Crusader is advancing to the second round no problem and then will lose to Johnny Dangerous!”

 

Masked Crusader gets to his feet and pulls Spike up with him. Grabbing the former Cruiserweight Champion by the wrist and Irish whips him into the corner. Spike hits the turnbuckles with a loud thud, as he arches his back in pain. Crusader runs towards his opponent, ready to crush him into the corner…but Jenkins just barely jumps out of the way! Crusader runs chest first into the corner, knocking himself back and almost off his feet.

 

“Spike Jenkins using his speed to dodge the attack by Crusader!” says Pete.

 

Spike charges into the ropes in front of The Masked Crusader, bounces off them and leaps into the air, driving his shoulder into the shoulder of his opponent…and knocking the big man down!

 

“Spike Jenkins finally knocks the big man down!”

 

“Masked Crusader must seriously have two left feet…”

 

Spike gets to his feet and stumbles into a corner to catch his breath. Crusader turns over onto his stomach and climbs up to one knee, ready to get back to a standing position and not allow the faster Jenkins to get an advantage…

 

 

 

 

 

…But it is too late. Jenkins charges out of the corner, leaps up onto the Masked Man’s knee and drives his own knee into the face of his opposition!

 

“SHINING WIZARD TO THE MASKED CRUSADER!”

 

Receiving a full-on blow to the skull, Masked Crusader crumbles to the mat as if taking a shotgun to the face. Jenkins covers the masked giant, struggling to pull the leg up for the cover!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!

 

 

 

*DING DING DING*

 

“Spike Jenkins advances to the second round of the Cold Front Classic!” shouts Pete.

 

“No big deal. He’ll challenge Johnny Dangerous in the second round and go down in a burst of flames!”

 

Spike rolls out of the ring as “Black Label” starts up.

 

“The winner of this match…and advancing to the second round of the Cold Front Classic…‘HOLLYWOOD’ SPIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENKINSSSSSSS!!!!”

 

Spike makes his way up the ramp, his arms held up in victory.

 

“Spike Jenkins, Johnny Dangerous, TORU, and JJ Johnson! The remaining four men in the Cold Front Classic! But only one of them will challenge for the SWF World Heavyweight Title! Who will it be?”

 

“JJ Johnson.”

 

“Uhh…King, we don’t know who is going to win yet…”

 

“Yeah, we do. It’s JJ Johnson.”

 

“Right…”

 

 

 

[FIN]

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Smarkdwon fades in, to see a pudgy manager walk through a curtain, following by his masked apprentice, "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu.

 

"I know this is a cliché`" Pete rambles "but imagine the difficulty it is to go into a match without knowing your opponent" He finishes.

 

"And he's not even familiar with SWF's past, as he was working in Japan. It could be Edwin MacPhisto and he wouldn't have a clue who the hell it was!" King adds.

 

Kaibatsu rolls his neck, and stretches his arms out as he circles the outside of the ring. Some wrist flailing, by tape checking, and Akira walks up the steel steps, while Kobe waits beside them.

 

 

 

The lights in the arena slowly dim down to a faint glow and all the lights focus in on the Smarktron as the sound of a loud siren burst through the darkness.

 

The SWF fans look intently at the giant video screen, wondering who it could be, with the Scott Steiner rip off music. Then the answer comes by way of acronym, as "NBK" flashes over the Smarktron.

 

 

"Josh Tupper?!" Pete cries disappointed in the surprise.

 

"Yeah . . . that's certainly not Edwin MacPhisto" King continues, certainly not helping.

 

"Pfft, well at least those god awful sirens are gone"

 

Pete is correct on that, the siren is replaced by Twiztidz "Broken Wingz" and the Natural Born Killer comes out of the curtain, with a blast of pyrotechnics. Tupper makes his way down to the ring in a Rocky like trot, expecting a comeback pop. He receives nothing of the sort.

 

 

"And to my left, in the blue and white trunks . . . fighting out of Sendai Japan . . . he is the DIVIIIIIIIIINE WIND . . . AKIRAAAAAA KAIIIIBATUUUUUU!!!" Funyon announces in his best drag-the-name-on-forever voice.

 

Funyon turns his attention over to the other side of the ring, and looks down at his index card.

 

"Fighting out of Toronto Ontario . . . By way of Edmonton Alberta . . . err . . . AND by way of Ottawa Ontario . . . standing at 6'5 and 299 pounds . . . NATURAL BOOOOORN KILLERRRRRRRRR . . . JOSH TUPPER!"

 

 

"Wait, where the hell does this guy live" King inquires.

 

"I don't think he knows. None that bell means the match is underway, so let's get this started."

 

 

Akira dances around Tupper, using his agility to keep him off balance. Akira stutter steps to the left, jukes to the right, a little of everything. But NBK steps in front of Kaibatsu's path, so Akira backs out, and then goes for a spin kick, but whiffs Tupper's head. Both superstars back out.

 

Both grapplers saunter into the middle of the ring, and tie up. Tupper uses his strength to get the advantage with an arm wrench. NBK shows he can do some technical work though, crossing his legs over Akira's arm, and dropping to the ground, putting in a cross arm bar.

 

"If Akira's not careful here, he could under estimate Tupper's real wrestling abilities" Pete warns.

 

"Wrestling abilities? He only had 2 matches for a reason"

 

Akira quickly and easily scrambles to the ropes, breaking the hold. Both men get up, and back out to corners, before getting right back in the center again. They tie up again, with Tupper getting another advantage, putting in a side headlock, and twisting around for a Tiger Spin. NBK glides around Kaibatsu's body, and puts in a front face lock. Akira musters up to get leverage, and make his way to his feet in the hold.

 

Akira then rushes him to the corner, causing another broken hold.

"Well, you were right Petey. Tupper's showing a lot more technical prowess than when we last saw him." King admits.

 

After the break the two break up into their corners again, while the camera zooms up on Josh Tupper. The two trot to the center of the ring, and lock hands, a Greco-Roman knuckle lock. Tupper shows more strength and over powers the lock, sending Akira's hands way over his head. From here Tupper sweeps Kaibatsu's legs, for an STO like move. NBK holds on for another arm bar, this one side style.

 

 

Akira manages to make his way to his feet from here, but this allows NBK to wrench his arm. Akira outsmarts Tupper though, and uses his free hand to grab the ropes, forcing the arm wrench to be broken.

 

"Tupper is showing unbelievable improvements from his last SWF match," Pete compliments. "He's using a whole new style almost," He continues.

 

"Almost? It is a whole new style. He was obviously booked this match to get ready for Bruce . . . so they booked him Tupper. But Tupper wants to impress, so he needs to beat Akira, by throwing him off guard—"

 

"With a whole new style" Pete finishes the sentence for King.

 

Akira holds his hand up, for another Greco-Roman knuckle lock, and Tupper complies, but he is outsmarted by Akira once again, as Kaibatsu whips him into the corner. Akira grasps the middle rope, trapping Josh, and thrusts his shoulder into the gut of the Natural Born Killer.

 

 

"Akira's showing his first real signs of offense here, in the corner," Pete declares.

 

UGGGH!!

 

 

UGGGH!!

 

 

 

UGGGH

 

 

Kaibatsu eventually, lets him free, and gives him a slap in the face for what it's worth. Tupper maneuvers his way to get back to his own corner. The come together in the center, like the other tie-ups, and put in a collar and elbow lock up. Tupper uses his strength to force Akira into the corner.

 

 

Tupper finally releases his inner brawler, and throws knees to the gut of Akira. NBK then whips Akira to the adjacent turnbuckle; Tupper follows . . .

 

 

 

SLAAAAPP

 

 

Tupper hits the clothesline hard, into the turnbuckle, sending Akira to the floor from all the impact! Tupper picks up Akira, and whips him into the ropes. Akira bounces back, and NBK goes for an elbow, but the Divine Wind rolls under it, leaps up, and hits a Missile Dropkick on NBK.

 

Tupper gets up, but he's hit with another one that sends him out of the ring. Akira wastes no motion and goes to the top rope, for a dive to the outside, but the referee stops him, and Tupper roams around outside.

 

Akira plays to the crowd, while Tupper plays to his lungs. NBK gets one last breath in, before rolling into the ring.

 

The two lock up, but Akira releases his hand from the hold, and hits a jab to the forehead of Tupper, followed by a snapmare. Then he runs to the ropes, bounces, and hits a powedrive elbow! Goes for a cover!

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

THRENOOSOCLOSE

 

 

Tupper gets out of it by sitting up, but all that does is allow Akira to apply a ground hammer lock. This doesn't effect Tupper's movement, so he gets up easily, but Akira can turn it into an arm wrench rather easily, so he does so. Tupper then reverses it, and turns into and arm wrench of his own, followed by a leg sweep, and a ground hammer lock of his own. Tupper than flips him over, and hooks the near leg.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

THRENOTQUITE

 

 

 

 

"Akira is barely staying alive here, and we've got a while to go in this match." King says with little faith in the puroresu.

 

Akira slides out of the ring to catch his breath. And then opens up the apron, as if he were to get a weapon.

 

 

"I guess he's not out there to catch his breath . . ." Pete figures.

 

"Wait . . . what the hell! That's what Great Muta used to do!" King points out, that Akira Kaibatsu is scrambling and UNDER the ring!

 

"What the hell!"

 

Tupper prances all over the canvas keeping an eye on all sides. Ya never know where he might end up!

 

 

 

Akira finally ends up at the other side of the ring, and climbs back in.

 

"Enough of these shenanigans, back to the match!" King howls.

 

The two wrestlers put in a Greco-Roman knuckle lock, but it doesn't last long, because Akira kicks NBK in the knee, and throws a knife edged chop his way. This causes Tupper to bend over, which lets Akira throw a tomahawk chop at the back of the neck. NBK doesn't go down though, he's a trooper . . . until Akira throws another knife edged chop at him, and he goes over the top rope . . . but he lands on his feet!

 

NBK pulls Kaibatsu under the rope, and starts to knife edge chop him, against the side of the ring. Then Akira starts to fight back, throwing elbows. They trade blows, one after the other. Elbow, forearm, punch, punch forearm, elbow elbows elbows, elbows.

 

"I'd be surprised if neither ones of these guys had a black eye after this match!" Pete exclaims

 

"Well, Akira's gotta toughen up if he wants to take Blanks belt. And Tupper is just too talentless to do anything else."

 

"Talentless? Did you see him exchange holds with Akira this whole match?"

 

 

 

NBK gets the best of the last few forearms, and puts in a front facelock. Then he thrusts backwards and hits a vertical suplex.

 

 

SEVEN!!!

 

 

 

EIGHT!!!!!

 

 

Tupper rolls in the ring, and then backs out of the ring, to prevent a count out.

 

 

Tupper than wants to go to his hardcore ways . . . back to his roots, and throws Akira into the crowd!

 

 

"What the hell is going on?" Pete demands

 

"I can't see a fucking thing!" King is obviously not happy.

 

"Well, ladies and gents, from our angle we have no idea what's going on, so you're just going to have to call it yourselves . . ."

 

 

"Ahhhh there we go, I can see now, now that Tupper has Akira back inside" Pete sighs.

 

After the vague episode of crowd surfing, it appears NBK was on top, because he has control at the moment, hitting a huge back drop on Akira.

 

 

 

EIGHT!!!

 

 

NINE!!!!

 

 

Tupper rushes back into the ring, quicker than last time. A double count out does him no good, and wont get him his job back.

 

Referee Nick Soapdish has to start a new count for Akira now that Tupper got back in the ring . . . and Akira takes advantage, catching his breath in the new hardcore style.

 

 

Finally he rolls back in the ring . . . but he continues his roll all the way to the other side and gets right back out.

 

"What the hell?" Pete questions.

 

Tupper goes over to the side to see what the hell Akira thinks he's doing . . . but as it turns out it was all a trap, and Kaibatsu swipes at the legs of NBK, sending him to his back!

 

"Aha" Pete says, feeling like he's in on some sort of plan.

 

The Divine Wind steps in the ring, and stalks Tupper. Tupper gets up slowly, but Kaibatsu is patient with him. Finally NBK makes his way up to one knee, which let's Akira run, step off his knee, and—

 

ZUP!

 

 

 

A huge shining gamenguri!

 

 

"That's gonna leave a black eye" Pete points out

 

"I think Akira finally realized he doesn't have to put Tupper over . . ."

 

Akira makes a cover, hooking the leg.

 

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEALMOST~!

 

 

 

Akira gets up quickly, not discouraged at the near fall. Rather than waiting for Tupper, this time he lifts him up by the hair. Akira throws a toe kick at NBK's gut, and then butterflies his arms. From here he swings out and . . .

 

 

 

 

THWAAANT

 

Josh is planted with It Came From Sendai!!

 

 

"HUUUGE Fluries of offense from Akira here!"

 

"My god, he's hit two signature moves . . ."

 

 

Akira decides not to go for a pin fall, and instead storms up the turnbuckle. The Divine Wind shows his speed, and leaps. Lights flash for the Kodack moment . . .

 

 

 

CRASHHHHHH

 

 

"He nails Tupper with the Senton Bomb!" Pete shouts with high flying excitement.

 

"Dick Togo is rolling over in his grave . . ."

 

 

Akira makes the cover, hooking both legs, counting along with the referee, as the fans do the same.

 

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREOHMYGODSOCLOSE~!~!~

 

 

Akira shows a little more frustration here, but not enough to slow him down. Akira picks up NBK and whips him into the corner. Akira walks over there and throws chops Tuppers way.

 

 

 

WHOOO!

 

 

WHOOOO!

 

 

Akira slows down with the chops, and then starts kicking away. Side kicks to the gut, low kicks to the shin. Kick after kick. After 8 or 9 kicks to the stomach and legs, Akira backs out 2 or 3 feet, and surveys Tuppers face. Then he shuffles and hits a huge kick to the face! This sends Tupper to the ground, on his ass leaning against the turnbuckle. Akira starts to wail more kicks to the fallen Tupper, beating him sensless.

 

 

Kaibatsu walks across the ring, and steps between the ropes, waiting on the apron. Stalking Tupper, waiting for him to get up from his fallen position in the corner. When NBK finally shows life and begins to make his way to his feet, Akira jumps, and bounces off of the ropes, then throwing his feet out in front for springboard front dropkick!

 

"KENTA style fools!" Pete throws in his smarky comment.

 

"Does KENTA always miss and land on his ass"

 

"No, actually KENTA's pretty good about it."

 

The Natural Born Killer takes advantage of Akira's missed opportunity, by picking him up by the mask, and locking him in a bear hug like position. Then with a sudden thrust, he throws Akira backwards with a belly to belly suplex.

 

Josh stays right on it, once again lifting Akira by the mask. Once up, Tupper aligns himself behind Akira, and grabs him by the head. Then he drops down to the ground for Travesty! NBK makes a nonchalant cover.

 

 

ONE

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRITHINKNOT.

 

 

"Akira manages to kick out of two big Natural Born Killer moves" Pete points out the obvious for the 5th or 6th time this match,

 

Tupper, visibly pissed off that he couldn't finish the puroresu with a few big moves, grunts and gets right back on the attack. He lifts Akira once again by his mask, which now has a tear in the upper corner.

 

 

Tupper throws punches at Akira's gut causing him to bend over. Tupper then thrusts Akira's head into his crotch, and does some stereotypical big man taunting. Tupper lifts Akira high above his head . . . and drops Akira, sending making the ring vibrate.

 

"Damn what force on the powerbomb. Coulda broke the ring!"

 

Tupper does some more boig man grunting, followed by a hooked leg cover.

 

 

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRENOOOOOOOO.

 

 

 

Tupper is down right upset at this point, and rightfully so. He made the freaking ring shake! Tupper tries to keep going, and picks up Akira.

 

Tupper has had enough of this Monkey business, and if you though he was grunting before . . . man does he sounds like an ape now. All his signature moves were just no-sold!

 

 

 

Akira lays in the corner, still feeling the impact of that Powerbomb. NBK decides this is a good time to end it for good, and heads over to the opposite corner. Tupper crouches, and stalks Kaibatsu from the other side of the ring. Akira slowly, but surely makes his way to his feet, and it is at this time Tupper starts to sprint towards the puroresu. Akira turns around, and uses his super Akira senses, at quickly gets out o the way of the Hit and Run! Tupper's shoulder goes crashing into the steel post!

 

"Tupper slams into that ring post! His shoulder could be completely separated" Pete blurts

 

"This also gives The Divine Wind a chance to bust out a big move.

Akira sees the opening, but doesn't know what move to pull out. Normally this would be a "turn to Kobe" moment, but he needs a quicker decision, so out of his ass, he pulls a German Suplex. Akira puts in a rear waist lock, and tries to pull back, but it's taking a lot out of him. Eventually he just falls backwards, and Tupper follows.

 

 

"Holy crap! Where did Akira find the strength to do that one!" King starts first in the commentary, for seemingly the entire match.

 

"If he can do it to Tupper, he can sure do it to Blank!"

 

"Hey, we haven't talked about Blank all match! What do you think he'll pick?"

 

"I dunno, but I think we'll find out soon"

 

 

Akira's tried arms carry the rest of his body over to the Natural Born Killer, and make a cover, with not much effort.

 

 

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

 

THRNOO

 

 

"The weak cover is the result of that"

 

 

Akira wipes his face thinking of what to pull out. He can't hit the Divine Backbreaker, Tupper's too big. Shining Gameguri couldn't do it, nor the Sendai/ Senton combination. Akira has to expand his arsenal.

 

Akira climbs to the top rope for the second time this match, with a new move up his sleeve. Akira looks weak at the top of the turnbuckle, as he's still weary from getting Tupper up for the German suplex. Akira stalks NBK from the top rope, waiting, and when he finally does get up, Akira takes a leap, and lands split legged over Tupper's head, and thrusts back.

 

 

"A Top Rope Hurricanrana!"

 

"Is this it?!"

 

 

 

Akira makes a stronger cover, hooking the leg.

 

 

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREFOOTONTHEROPE~!~

 

The entire crowd can tell Akira is disappointed, by his facial expression, but he does not let his emotion at the time carry his in-ring feel. He lifts up Tupper by the hair, and puts him in a cravate. Akira tightens his grip, and runs towards the turnbuckle. Steps on the second rope with his right foot, the top rope with his left, completing a backflip.

 

 

 

"AKIRA HIT'S THE DIVINE WIND!!"

 

 

Akira has a sudden adrenalin rush for this cover, managing to hook both legs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!

 

 

 

"Tupper can't get a win in his SWF one time return, and Akira looks like he'—" Pete is cut off by a FADE OUT

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The Toledo Arena is as alive as ever as we come back from commercial break, the Smarkdown theme pumping out of the speakers as the camera pans around the audience, picking up such signs as “A NEGATIVE TIMES A NEGATIVE IS STILL A NEGATIVE”, featuring pictures of Landon Maddix and JJ Johnson, “I CAN SMELL BRUCE FROM HERE”, and “MAGS HEARTS FAGS”. Almost as witty as the Indianapolis crowd.

 

“Hello, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome back to Smarkdown!” announces the Miami Menace that is Longdogger Pete. “We’ve already had some fantastic action-“

 

 

“And Spike Jenkins!” interrupts King.

 

 

“-and right now,” says the ever-annoyed LDP, “we have a unique matchup.”

 

The camera shot changes to a graphic featuring Landon Maddix and JJ Johnson, the blonde and handsome leader of Cucaracha Internacional a harsh contrast to Johnson’s rugged, jet-black haired look.

 

“Two stablemates face off,” begins Pete, “in a match that so heavily favors one competitor that I’ll be shocked beyond shock if the other pulls it out.”

 

“No duh, Pete,” says King, with a slight scowl on his face. “Landon, for lack of a better term, sucks. He can handle himself occasionally, but the first time he goes for his sheer-drop flip-flop whatever-the-fuck, Johnson will take him down.”

 

“I agree wholeheartedly. I don’t like to make predictions, but I have to say that Johnson has this one in the bag. Unless, of course, Landon learned to wrestle.”

 

As King laughs at such an absurd statement, a familiar three-word phrase hits over the PA.

 

 

“PREPARE…FOR…LANDON!!”

 

 

…WAAAAHHHH…

 

 

*DUM DUM*

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

“Megalomaniac” bursts out of the speakers, the hard guitar strikes and rhythmic drum beats rolling over the Toledo crowd as the challenger, Landon Maddix, steps out from behind the curtain. There’s some confusion as to his attire, which appears to be a more traditional long-tights look, but other than that it’s nothin’ but jeers for La Cucaracha as he makes his way down to the ring, leaping up onto the apron and looking out over the audience before stepping through the ropes and ditching his jacket before warming up. He’s slightly nervous about the upcoming match, just as Zyon was, but realizes that Johnson will only try to hurt him if Landon tries to hurt him first. And hoping it doesn’t come to that is his last thought…

 

 

…before the lights drop out.

 

 

 

“HE HAS NOT CONFESSED, HE HAS MADE NO STATEMENT, CHARGES OF MURDER HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED AGAINST HIM.”

 

 

The lights strike a brilliant red and white before fading back down, and the Smarktron kicks up, showing various highlights; dropping Scott Pretzler on his head with a dragon suplex, taking to the sky for an Air Canada on Manson, and wrapping Zyon spine-first around the ring post with an Exploder. The lights strike up again, and this time smoke can be seen billowing out of the stage as the lights rise up to a deep red, and hover there ominously before finally…

 

 

RRRRRAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!

 

 

…Burton C. Bell’s demonic growl comes tearing out of the speakers, and the crowd immediately begins to jeer as a figure strides through the smoke, title on shoulder, jacket on upper body, and grin on face. Striding down the ramp, he stares into the ring at Landon, and smiles. An actual smile, and this both reassures and unnerves La Cucaracha. Johnson strides up the steps, into the ring, and up he goes onto the second rope, throwing his arms wide in a crucifix as his theme continues to assault the eardrums of the Toledo crowd. He steps down, unzips his jacket, hands his title belt to referee Blaine Kalem, and simply sits back in the corner as Funyon slides into the ring. Landon does the same, and the announcer clears his throat before bringing the microphone up to his mouth.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship, and it is to be contested under Pure Wrestling rules!”

 

“YEEEAAHHH!!”

 

“Here are the rules. Each competitor receives three rope breaks, to be used at any time throughout the match. HOWEVER, once those rope breaks are gone, the competitor cannot use the ropes to break a submission hold, or to save himself from a pin fall. As such, using the ropes for leverage and holding the opponent in a rope-based submission then becomes legal. Punches to the head are illegal, and will cost the offender a rope break, or, if he is out of rope breaks, a disqualification. There is a twenty count on the outside, and if Johnson is disqualified or counted out, the title DOES change hands!” booms Funyon, taking a few deep breaths as the crowd cheers before beginning his intros.

 

 

“Introducing first, on my right, the challenger. In the black tights, with the red trim, he stands five feet ten inches tall, and weighs in tonight at 224 pounds…from Huron, South Dakota, by way of Madrid, Spain…LANDON! LA CUCARACHAAA! MAAAAADDIIIIIIXXX!!!”

 

 

“BOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

Landon smirks a little, and throws his arms out to his side upon hearing his name, but he doesn’t engage in any of the mannerisms he did when he won the World Title almost a year ago.

 

“And his opponent, on my left, the champion. In the red trunks, with the white trim, he stands six feet one inch tall, and weighs in tonight at 219 pounds…from Windsor, Ontario, Canada, he is the 112-day reigning AND DEFENDING SWF Cruiserweight Champion…J! J! JOOOOHNNNNSOONNNN!!”

 

 

“BOOOOOOOO!!”

 

 

DING DING DING!

 

 

-----Rope Breaks Remaining-----

Maddix: 3

Johnson: 3

 

And with a call for the bell, the match is underway. Johnson and Landon advance to the center and shake hands, and then Landon offers his hand up for a Greco-Roman knuckle lock. Johnson accepts with one hand, and twists under the extended arm of Landon before coming back up with a hammerlock. Landon looks lost, but after a moment of thinking realizes that Johnson is not holding the hammerlock as tight as he could, and so he ducks down and comes back up behind Johnson with his own hammerlock. Landon, as opposed to Johnson’s slacking, cinches the hold up as tight as he can, but the Canadian knows a better counter, and grabs Landon’s head with his left arm before leaping into the air and dropping to his knees, bringing Landon over with a flying snapmare. Johnson then slides his body until he’s perpendicular to Landon and, securing a chickenwing on The Next Generation, leverages him over his body onto his shoulders for the first cover of the match!

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

T-But Landon, for all of his wrestling shortcomings, knows how to escape such an elementary pin, and thrusts his legs to the side. The momentum rolls him both off of his shoulders and out of the chickenwing, and he’s quick to shoot forward and grab Johnson in a the cravate.

 

 

“Well, I don’t like La Cucaracha, but I do have to respect the improvements he’s made in his mat game,” nods Pete, his voice showing interest as Johnson hesitates, thinking up a plan to get out of this ridiculously simple hold.

 

“Please, Pete. Learning how to apply a cravate is not ‘improvements he’s made in his mat game’. He’s just as spotty as ever, only now he’s ground spotty,” says King, “if that makes any sense.”

 

Having obviously decided on a solution, Johnson shoots his arm up between his face and Maddix’s right arm, and with a hard wrench backwards, has Landon caught in a top wristlock. It takes the Canadian a while, but then the opportunity staring him in the face registers, and he quickly turns on his tail before wrapping his right arm around Landon’s neck and grabbing the wristlocked arm, releasing with his other arm. But Landon felt the Anaconda Vice in “training camp”, and remembers how they had to take a break for 10 minutes while he iced his shoulder down after a mere 15 seconds in the hold. And so he scrambles, doing anything he can to make Johnson’s grip impossible, and finally takes his left hand and delivers a few swift punches to the Canadian’s ribs.

 

 

“See how he attacks the ribs with those punches,” Pete notes. “He knows he can’t punch Johnson in the head, or he gives up a rope break that, considering who he’s in against, could be crucial. Hell, if he were up against Ghost Machine, they could be crucial, because he’s not used to rope breaks being unrenewable resources.”

 

Johnson lets go, but Landon is a little quicker to react, and thinking back to JJ and Hawke’s scrimmages that he was required to take notes on (he doodled instead, and scrambled furiously to get something down when he saw that Johnson had Jay in a rear naked choke), swings his legs up around the champion’s arm and forces Johnson onto his back before trying to pull the arm tight for a juji-gatame! The crowd noise level rises as they think this match between their enemies is over, but it quickly dies down, as Johnson sits up and, with solely his right arm, pulls Landon to a seated position…

 

 

*BAM!*

 

 

…before nailing him with a hard punch to the face! La Cucaracha lets go, but Johnson immediately realizes what he’s done, and his eyes go wide as he noticeably swears, Kalem scolding him.

 

 

“And that’s the first rope break gone!” shouts Pete as Maddix grabs at his eye.

 

 

-----Rope Breaks Remaining-----

Maddix: 3

Johnson: 2

 

 

Landon recovers quickly from the punch, and looks at Johnson with disbelief in his eyes. Johnson shrugs and gives him an apologetic look, and Maddix nods…before scrambling behind Johnson with the same chickenwing rollup that the champion used earlier!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

But Johnson is out before Landon was, and he also recovers faster than Landon did, scrambling forward and securing a sleeper on the Next Generation before wrenching his arm back, locking hands and squeezing with a Buffalo Sleeper!

 

 

“Buffalo Sleeper!” cries Pete. “Shades of Danny Williams with that choke hold, and it’s only a matter of time before it’s lights-out for Maddix!”

 

“A strike monkey steals a move from a roid monkey to put down a spot monkey. And so, the cycle begins again,” says King, sitting back with a zen look in his eyes. You know, because what he said was so deep.

 

 

Landon’s eyes aren’t glassing over, though. In fact, it doesn’t seem like he’s short on air at all. He is, however, grabbing at his arm and gritting his teeth, and it is then that everyone in the Toledo Arena realizes that the hold is not for choking, but for digging away at La Cucaracha’s shoulder. The Canadian doesn’t get to wrench on the arm long, though, because a quick scan of the ring by The Future reveals to him that the ropes are within reach of his leg, and he’s glad to trade a rope break for a right arm that functions. And so over the bottom rope it goes.

 

 

-----Rope Breaks Remaining-----

Maddix 2

Johnson 2

 

 

Johnson breaks immediately, but quickly goes back on the attack, crawling over to where Landon lies before standing, twisting La Cucaracha’s arm into a familiar position, and diving over with an inverted Magistral Cradle!

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

But Landon sees that the ref isn’t looking, and is quick to shoot his available thumb into the Ultimate Fighter’s eye.

 

 

“BOOOOOOO!!”

 

 

“Hey, that’s not fair! That was probably the end of the match right there!” shouts Pete, the audience at home half expecting him to begin ranting about ‘justice’ and Pepsi Max. But King, for all of his Landon hating, is not nearly as upset. In fact, he’s smiling. Because he’s looking right at Johnson on the monitor, looking at his facial expression. He’s seen that facial expression before. And so he continues to smile. Because Landon is in trouble.

 

Maddix sits up, smiling contentedly as a suspicious Kalem arches an eyebrow. He didn’t see anything, though, and so he can’t call anything. Knowing this, Landon smirks, then turns around...

 

 

...and comes nose-to-nose with the champion. The smile drops off of Landon’s face at about the same time his eyes go wide, and he has little time to react...

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

...when Johnson draws his arm back and smashes him with an elbow! La Cucaracha staggers, and the Canadian follows up by nonchalantly placing his boot on Landon’s chest and, with a simple thrust, shoving Maddix on his ass. The crowd chuckles at this, and the Next Generation looks up at his stablemate with a slightly shocked look as he rubs his cheekbone where the elbow cracked him. To the surprise and disappointment of the audience, Johnson does not kick La Cucaracha’s head clean off of his shoulders. Instead, he mouths “Don’t do that again,” and extends a hand to Maddix, which he gladly accepts. With a tug, La Cucaracha is on his feet, and Johnson extends his hand again, this time for a test of strength.

 

“WHAT?!” screams King, irate at Johnson’s reaction...or lack thereof. “AN ELBOW? WHAT’S AN ELBOW GOING TO TEACH HIM?! RIP HIS DAMN FACE OFF!”

 

“You’ll have to pardon my partner, ladies and gentlemen,” says Pete, looking right at the camera. “He’s...he’s passionate about this sort of thing.”

 

 

Landon accepts the test of strength, but once again, the lock is only on one hand before somebody reacts. It’s Johnson again, and instead of ducking under Landon’s arm, he reaches up with the other hand and twists, pulling the challenger’s arm over his shoulder as he thrusts his hip, knocking La Cucaracha off balance and throwing him down onto his back with an ippon-seoinage! The Next Generation gets the wind knocked out of him, and Johnson uses this to his advantage, dropping down and placing both legs across Landon’s chest before pulling back with a juji-gatame of his own!

 

“JUJI-GATAME! AND THIS ISN’T ONE LANDON PULLED OUT OF HIS ASS, THIS IS ONE APPLIED BY A BLACK BELT JUDOKA!” shouts Pete, both he and the audience rising out of their seat as Maddix’ eyes bug out of their head.

 

“Finally, Johnson shows just how easy it is to squash a cockroach!” chuckles King, but he ends up disappointed, as Landon has the ring presence to squirm the two feet that would allow him to drape a leg over the bottom rope for the second time in the match.

 

-----Rope Breaks Remaining-----

Maddix 1

Johnson 2

 

Johnson releases the hold and performs a back roll, then grabs a now-sitting upright Maddix around the waist and tugging him to his feet. Landon is groggy, but soon realizes what’s going on, and lunges forward and latches onto the ropes again, fully prepared to do anything it takes to keep Johnson from dumping him on his head!

 

 

 

 

...but Johnson isn’t pulling. He’s just holding on. Maddix, understandably, is confused, and takes a moment to ponder why before referee Blaine Kalem informs him.

 

 

“Hey! That’s it, Maddix! No more rope breaks!”

 

----Rope Breaks Remaining-----

Maddix 0

Johnson 2

 

 

And Landon’s jaw drops. He turns around, jaw still unhinged, and looks straight at JJ Johnson, who is chuckling lightheartedly. But Landon, who is now beginning to grow increasingly angry, does not see lighthearted chuckling. He sees Johnson laughing at him. And he’ll be damned if he’s going to take that from Jimmy McNo-Voice. So, now seething with rage, he stomps up to a still-chuckling Johnson.

 

 

Draws his hand back.

 

 

 

*SMAAA-AAA-AAACKK!!!!*

 

“OOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!”

 

And signs his own death warrant.

 

 

“Well...well THAT was unexpected,” mutters Pete, slightly shocked as Johnson’s head snaps to the right, his face already beginning to redden in the shape of a hand.

 

“I was HOPING this would happen!” says King, his day getting a whole lot brighter.

 

Johnson, his facial expression now blank - which is never a good thing - swivels his head slooowwwlllyyy back around to face La Cucaracha. Maddix doesn’t back down, although he certainly looks glad he’s wearing dark-colored tights. Unfortunately, he’s not wearing a helmet.

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

“YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHH!!!”

 

A fact that Johnson quickly takes advantage of with a wicked elbow smash! Maddix is caught off-guard, but he rolls to his feet and rushes the Canadian, a fact that Johnson takes advantage of with a shotgun lariat!

 

 

*SSSSSHHHH!*

 

 

That misses! Landon ducks under the fast-flying forearm and spins on the spot, leaping up and wrapping Johnson with a chinlock as he plunges his knees into the Canadian’s lower spine and falls back...

 

 

*BANG!*

 

 

 

 

...torquing his back with Mount Crushmore! Johnson rolls off of Maddix’s legs with a pained look on his face, but Landon isn’t about to let up now, so he quickly snares Johnson’s head in another cravate! The Canadian scoots himself up to one knee as La Cucaracha wrenches away, and since the hold isn’t affecting...well, anything, the champion takes some time to think and recover.

 

 

“And now Maddix is in control! He caught Johnson off-guard with that lungblower, and he’s probably trying to get Johnson to cool off. I know I would be,” says Pete.

 

Johnson seems to be calmed down, but some in the audience ponder just how effective the cravate really is, and whether or not it affects brain function. Normally, this would be a ridiculous thought, but it gains a lot more founding when Johnson reaches out and grabs the middle rope.

 

 

“YEEE...”

 

 

The fans begin to cheer, but it just becomes a collective “huh?” as Kalem steps in and orders an equally confused Maddix to break the “hold.”

 

----Rope Breaks Remaining-----

Maddix 0

Johnson 1

 

 

The Next Generation breaks the hold and stands up, eyeing his stablemate suspiciously as Johnson shakes his head, apparently trying to shake off the effects of as dreaded a hold as the cravate. But he’s quickly distracted.

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

As with a thrust upward that makes some in the crowd cry “SHORYUKEN!”, Johnson blasts Maddix in the jaw with an elbow smash! La Cucaracha’s head snaps back as he turns around, stumbling towards the corner, but Johnson is too quick, dashing in and securing a half nelson!

 

 

“YEEEAAAAAAHHH!!”

 

 

“Johnson going for a half-nelson suplex? That could end it right here!” cries Pete.

 

“That could break Landon’s neck!” grins a never-been-happier-about-a-prospect King.

 

But Landon knows both of these things, and so before Johnson can secure his other arm he spins, catching JOHNSON in a half nelson! Instead of trying for a suplex, though, he brings the nelsoned arm down between Johnson’s legs, grabs that with his other hand, and immediately puts his arm across Johnson’s chest!

 

“Landon could be calling for an Exploder ‘98 here!” shouts the still-standing Pete. Landon WAS calling for an Exploder ‘98, but Johnson has other ideas, elbowing Landon in the temple until the Next Generation releases his chest. Maddix still has a grip on the pumphandle, but that’s nothing Johnson’s subsequent roll forward doesn’t solve, and he quickly gets to his feet before using the arm he’s got a hold of to tug Maddix into his grasp and get HIM in position for an Exploder! However, La Cucaracha has better plans than to be Explodered, and so he reaches out for the top rope, knowing that although he’s out of rope breaks, he can at least prevent Johnson from throwing him.

 

 

*SMAACK!!*

 

 

Johnson, however, is on guard, and so he paintbrushes Landon with an open-handed slap! Maddix is understandably distracted, but still has his arm out reaching for the ropes. And so the Canadian grabs the arm, tucks it between La Cucaracha’s legs, and throws Landon back towards the center of the ring!

 

*BANG!*

 

 

“EXPPLLOOODDAAAHHH NIIINNNEETTYYYY-EEEIIIIGGHHHHTTT~!” screams Pete, drawing his syllables out so long that he has to take a breath between “ninety” and “eight” as the Next Generation comes crashing down on his head and neck in the center of the ring! Johnson scrambles over and makes the cover on the dazed Cockroach!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-NO! The Exploder ‘98 may be a devastating move, but it does nobody any good when the only real damage so far on the victim is two elbows and a few holds. Johnson doesn’t miss a beat, though, grabbing the arm that Maddix shot off the canvas and wrapping his legs around it, and pulling back!

 

 

“YEEEAAAHHH!!!”

 

 

“JUJI-GATAME! JUJI-GATAME!” shouts Pete, but his shouting is for naught, as Landon quickly locks his hands together, preventing the arm-breaking submission from being applied! Johnson tugs as hard as he can, but Maddix is doing everything he can to keep his arms together. La Cucaracha realizes that Johnson isn’t playing around anymore, and that his grip is slipping, and so he’s forced to think. And think he does, back to the training sessions once more, trying to remember Jay’s way of escaping the hold.

 

 

*TAP TAP TAP TAP*

 

 

It is then that Maddix realizes that, in this instance, training sessions aren’t going to help in the slightest. So he improvises, swinging his legs up once...twice...and finally, he gathers up the momentum to roll backwards onto his stomach, taking Johnson with him. Naturally, this sudden change of position causes the Canadian to loosen his grip, and Landon takes advantage, shooting forward and applying a facelock!

 

“STF! Maddix with the STF!” shouts Pete, then a look of confusion hits him. “Maddix with the STF?”

 

“I’m confused too, Drain Clogger. I’m confused too.”

 

King may be assuring Pete, but nobody is more caught off guard right now than JJ Johnson. Not only has the hold he was betting on failed, but it actually hurts. He throws elbows behind him, but Landon sits back, and all the elbows hit air. Finally, Johnson realizes he’s expending energy he could be using to escape the maneuver another way. And so, with Landon not sitting far enough up on his back to stop him, Johnson pushes himself up on his hands and begins to crawl.

 

“This sit-back Regal Stretch is dangerous, King! Toxxic used this to beat Mak Francis at Battleground!” informs Pete, sitting up in his chair, ready to leap out.

 

“Yes, but Toxxic was a skilled submission wre...oh, shit. Johnson’s in trouble,” gasps King.

 

Johnson pushes once more, and manages to gain another foot towards the ropes. La Cucaracha torques on the hold, and the pain shooting down the champion’s neck is enough to bring him back down. T Canadian forces himself back up, knowing that he has to live with the pain in order to get to the ropes...and Landon abandons the facelock before rolling to the right and trapping Johnson on his shoulders with a Japanese cradle pin!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

T-But Landon’s cover is a bit too enthusiastic, and Johnson is doubled over to the point of his foot being draped over the second rope.

 

“AND THAT’S IT! No more rope breaks for either of them!” shouts Pete as the scoreboard flashes up for the final time.

 

-----Rope Breaks Remaining-----

Maddix 0

Johnson 0

 

Maddix rolls forward and to his feet just as Johnson pulls himself up on the ropes, shaking off the neck pain from the STF. He doesn’t get much chance to recover, though, as Maddix rushes forward and thrusts a boot into his stomach. The Canadian is doubled over for the second time in thirty seconds, and La Cucaracha takes advantage by grabbing him by the hair and...

 

 

*SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!*

 

 

...unleashing a harsh flurry of kicks to Johnson’s face!

 

“Kawada kicks!” shouts Pete.

 

“Boo! Foul! No kicking!” complains King, bringing up rules that, quite frankly, don’t exist. Landon, however, decides that Johnson isn’t weakened enough, and so lets loose with a few more kicks!

 

*SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMA*THWAP!*

 

Unfortunately for Maddix, Johnson can only be stunned for so long, and the Canadian comes to his senses just in time to stop another kick from reaching his face. Johnson then stands upright, spins, and throws another elbow!

 

 

“ROLLING ELBOW!” screams the Heartbreaker.

 

 

*THWAP!*?

 

That’s caught! Landon throws the arm away from him, taking Johnson off balance, and takes advantage by thrusting forward with a forearm!

 

“FOREARM SMASH!” cries the Miami Menace.

 

*THWAP!*

 

That’s blocked! La Cucaracha put a little too much power into the strike, and the block cancels out his momentum...

 

 

*CA-RAACKK!!*

 

...just long enough for Johnson to spin and turn him into a Picasso with a rolling elbow! The Next Generation staggers back from the blow, and the champion steps back into the ropes before charging forward, leaping into the air...

 

 

*CA-RRAAACKKK!!!*

 

“YEEEAAHHHH!!!”

 

...and beheading Maddix with a jumping high kick!

 

“DYNAMIC KICK!” booms the Gambling Man for all the world to hear as Landon goes crashing to the mat, Johnson taking a few steps to cancel out his momentum before turning and diving on top of the Next Generation for a cover.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR-NO! Landon shoots a shoulder up! Johnson doesn’t waste time trying for a second cover, because he knows that never works, and instead drags the Next Generation to his feet for his next move.

 

 

 

 

 

*BANG!*

 

 

 

Unfortunately, whatever plans he had in mind are scrambled, along with the rest of his brains, by a desperation Complete Shot from La Cucaracha! Johnson’s face bounces off of the mat, and Landon rolls him over, hooking a leg deep for a cover!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-NO! Johnson mirrors La Cucaracha’s actions from earlier, shooting a shoulder off of the mat before his near-record length reign comes crashing to a halt! Landon doesn’t bother picking Johnson up, instead sprinting to the ropes and coming back…

 

 

 

*STOMP!*

 

 

…burying his feet deep into Johnson’s gut with a double stomp before leaping into the air and…

 

 

*BANG!*

 

 

…connecting with a back senton! Johnson grabs at his wounded midsection, but Landon has no time for pity as he shoves the Canadian onto his back before hooking the leg for another cover!

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

NO! Johnson bodily kicks out of this cover, then goes back to holding his stomach as Maddix gets a few moments to think…

 

 

 

 

…and looks at the second rope.

 

 

“What’s Maddix thinking here?” ponders Pete as La Cucaracha is obviously running a few options through his brain.

 

 

“Nice try, Pete. But a joke about Maddix thinking won’t cheer me up right now,” sighs King as Johnson slowly starts to recover from his tummy trauma. The Next Generation knows he’s not supposed to do what he’s considering doing. It had been drilled into his head since training camp: for the love of God, don’t try the Crash Landon. Too much risk for too little reward. But now La Cucaracha is having second thoughts. He’s won titles with the Crash Landon. He’s got Johnson on the ropes, and one big move could put him away.

 

 

Use the Exploder ’98, says a voice in his brain. But Johnson has already blocked that, and he’s already kicked out of the Complete Shot. He’ll be expecting the Land of Nod, and Johnson countered the Shining Wizard so many times in training camp that it’s not even funny. And the prestige of dethroning a long running champion? That HAS to put him in the running for some chance at the World Title.

 

And so, with more trepidation with confidence, Landon hoists himself up to the second rope, and waits.

 

 

“Maddix going for his signature Crash Landon here, and I daresay that if Johnson takes this, it could be enough to put him and his title reign away,” notes the Miami Menace as Johnson staggers up, his back to the Next Generation as he shakes his head. Then, looking for his opponent but finding nobody, he turns around.

 

Landon casts himself off of the second rope, latches on to Johnson’s shoulders, and swings by.

 

 

 

“OOOOHHHHH…”

 

 

 

 

And Johnson, using the combined efforts of his own strength and momentum, shoves him off.

 

 

“YEEEEAAHHH!!!”

 

 

Landon stumbles back, about to fall, but Johnson grabs on to his arm to prevent him from taking an embarrassing dive. Then, he takes the arm and pulls Landon towards him, swings his leg up, leaps, spins, rolls forward and…

 

 

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!”

 

 

“JUJI-GATAME! JOHNSON COUNTERS THE CRASH LANDON INTO THE JUJI-GATAME! AND LANDON’S OUT OF ROPE BREAKS!”

 

 

And so he is, Johnson ripping at his arm like a rabid pit bull. The Next Generation screams, and his pain is only intensified by the fact that the ropes are so close, yet so useless.

 

 

 

…wait. Maybe not.

 

 

 

Landon gets another idea in his head, and, using all of the pain tolerance he can muster as his elbow begins to tear itself apart, places his feet on the ropes and begins to walk up.

 

 

“Unique counter to the juji-gatame so far…we’ll have to see how it finishes up,” says Pete.

 

“Landon loses, that’s how it finishes up,” gloats King, but even he doesn’t look so sure as La Cucaracha reaches the top, stacked on his shoulders before pushing off…

 

 

 

 

 

…and rolling onto his stomach!

 

 

“YEEEAAAAHHHH!!!”

 

 

Maddix is understandably confused. Normally, his counters are met with boos. The fans really have no reason to cheer, I mean, an upside-down juji-gatame doesn’t do anybody any good.

 

 

And then he remembers who he’s in the ring with, and has one final thought as Johnson’s foot snakes its way under his chin.

 

 

 

Ah, fuck.

 

 

Then, Johnson pulls.

 

 

 

“FROSTBITE! HA! WHAT’D I TELL YOU PETE! FLIP-FLOPPERY HAS LOST LA CUCARACHA THIS MATCH!” cries King, overjoyed as Landon’s neck is bent at a rather unnatural angle. Maddix reaches out and grabs the bottom rope…

 

 

 

 

…but he’s out of breaks. And he realizes this mere moments before he realizes he only has one option left.

 

 

 

*TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP!*

 

 

 

“YEEAAAAHHHH!!!”

 

DING DING DING!

 

 

Johnson breaks the hold immediately, rolling out of the ring as Funyon stands up, trying to catch his breath from the battle he just went through.

 

 

“HERE IS YOUR WINNER…AND STILL SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION…J! J! JOHNSON!”

 

 

The Canadian strides up the ramp as Maddix makes his way to his knees, glaring down the ramp at the man who just defeated him. Johnson, in return, just shrugs, mouths “Better luck next time”, and turns his back on the Next Generation, striding back to the locker room as we…

 

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT

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When we return from a commercial break we see that Ben Hardy finally managed to get into the ring instead of being stuck running around after wrestlers backstage all night.

 

“Wednesday night Akira Kabi… Kaba… The Divine Wind threw the gauntlet down and challenged Bruce Blank for his Ultraviolent title” Ben Hardy says, embarrassed that he couldn’t pronounce Kaibatsu correctly.

 

“Bruce has yet to respond to the challenge but has asked for this time to address the Divine Wind and the challenge and many other subjects I’m sure. So please welcome Bruce Blank to the ring” Hardy says in a very “non-welcoming” tone.

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

As soon as Bruce walks out the fans turn hostile and boo one of the most hated men in the SWF. After stopping for a moment to steal a cup of beer from a fan at ringside Bruce makes it down to the ring and enters as the hostile reaction dies down.

 

“Bruce, how do you respond to the challenge” Ben says, displaying his hard hitting, no-nonsense journalistic skills that’s landed him a job with the SWF.

 

“Akira, you wanted my attention? Well you got it scooter!!” Bruce starts off “Just be careful what you wish for. I’m ain’t a man that has the time or the patients for fools and you are a fool Akira!! You want to step into the right with the man that PERSONIFIES Ultraviolent wrestling?”

 

Bruce pauses as he stifles a laugh.

 

“Be careful what you wish for! Let it not be said that I back down from a challenge so guess what? You’re in more trouble than an epileptic with a cup of acid in his hand cause I’ll take ya dang challenge!!” Bruce says and the crowd likes the sounds of Bruce Vs Akira for the upcoming PPV.

 

“And the stipulation Bruce? He said you could pick the stipulations for the match” Ben asks

 

Bruce doesn’t say anything at first he just grins a sadistic, evil grin as he taps the Ultraviolent title around his waist. “Akira I hate to interrupt your little Oprah moment with your long lost boyhood pal or whomever that fellar is but I think you should hear it in person, I want to see the look on your face when I tell you just which circle of hell I’ll drag you through!”

 

After a couple of moments Akira appears from backstage, followed by Mr. Kobe who’s pushing Toshiaki Taue’s wheelchair towards the ring. Once they’re at ringside Akira approaches the ring but stays on the floor as Bruce just waits and watches.

 

“Do I have your attention now? Then I suggest you get Mr. Myagi here to translate every single da-gum word for you – I don’t want you to miss a thing and claim ignorance because of the language barrier ya hear?”

 

Mr. Kobe joins Akira and starts to translate what Bruce is saying in a low whisper to his charge.

 

“Alright then, I’ve decided that… the stipulation for the Ultraviolent title match will be… “ Bruce slowly says, stalling for some reason.

 

Then suddenly Toshiaki Taue leaps out of his wheelchair, runs at Akira from behind and then nails him square in the back of the head with a stiff running Yakuza kick that draws a shocked reaction from the crowd.

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

Bruce just laughs as Toshiaki Taue grabs Akira by the mask and the back of the tights and throws him head and shoulder first into the guardrails with a loud crash. Taue quickly reaches in under the apron of the ring and pulls out a long heavy chain as Bruce leaves the ring to join in on the attack

 

“This is ridiculous!! Bruce set this whole thing up” Pete says as they have a first row seat to Bruce and Taue’s assault on the Divine Wind. Bruce holds the dazed Akira up by the arms as Toshiaki Taue straps a dog collar around Akira’s throat and then nails him across the face with the attached chain.

 

“Hey Akira injured Taue quite badly!! He’s just getting even WRESTLING STYLE!!” King says, obviously enjoying the assault.

 

Bruce throws Akira back first into the guard rail and then they both tie the Divine Wind’s arms to the rail with the chain. Taue grabs Mr. Kobe by the shirt and drags the scared man over to where Bruce is towering over the unconscious Akira.

 

“Pay some damn attention!! I want you to give Akira this message when he comes to: Be careful what you wish for! Next time we step into the ring it’ll be a DOG COLLAR CHAIN MATCH!!” Bruce says as he slaps Akira’s unconscious face.

 

Toshiaki Taue pushes Mr. Kobe out of the way before leaving side by side with Bruce Blank, high fiving each other to celebrate just how well their plan worked.

 

“A dog collar chain match King??” Pete blurts out.

 

“I’d pay to see that! Of course I don’t have to, I’ll have the best seat in the house” King replies while winking to the camera.

 

Fade out.

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We come back with the camera shot showing the tuxedo’d figure of the SWF’s veteran ring announcer standing in the middle of the squared circle and holding his microphone in preparation. Having received the signal over his headset Funyon snaps into action and prepares to inform the masses once more…

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is a Fatal Fourway match,” he booms. “Only two competitors are allowed in the ring at any time, and they must tag in and out! Introducing first, from Cleveland, Ohio…”

 

The strains of Pink Floyd’s ‘Learning To Fly’ starts up and the fans inside the Toledo Sports Arena begin booing in unison; none of that bothers the man who has just stepped out onto the soundstage though, as Jay Hawke sneers in derision at the crowd’s jeers and starts to make his way down the ramp.

 

“…he is a member of Cucaracha Internacional and weighs in tonight at 215lbs; this is the SWF International Champion, ‘The Dean Of Professional Wrestling’, JAAAAAYYYYYY… HAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWKE!!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Hawke pauses on the ramp and turns around to point both thumbs at the back of his robe, where it reads ‘The Dean’ before continuing to the ring where he jogs up the steps to the apron before climbing through the ropes. He then removes his robe and title belt, handing one to the referee and the other to the timekeeper before ascending to the second rope of the turnbuckle and staring out over the crowd.

 

“Like him or loathe him -and I know what I would recommend- you have to appreciate that Jay Hawke is perhaps the best midcard wrestler in the SWF for the last two years,” Longdogger Pete admits. “Where people like Johnny Dangerous, Landon Maddix and Spike Jenkins have had their flirtations with the main event and even the World Title, they’ve all eventually come back down. Meanwhile Jay Hawke has remained absolutely solid in his position, and while other wrestlers may have their off days, everyone knows that you never get an easy match out of him.”

 

“It’s nice that you’re actually making sense for once,” King replies, “but I think you’re selling the man short; what Jay Hawke is demonstrating is a plan of masterful excellence. He will reach the World Title one day Dogger, but it will be when he is ready. He’s not a Landon Maddix who’ll win the title and then lose it again straight away, or even a hotshot like Toxxic who hung around for a while but then got burnt out, took his ball and went home sulking. Jay Hawke won’t make his move until he knows he’s ready.”

 

Regardless of the commentator’s opinions, what Jay Hawke appears to be ready for now is this match; the Dean has dismounted the turnbuckle and is facing the entranceway. And so he is the first person in the arena who sees the Smarktron darken and three letters flash up as the harsh drums and brutal guitars of ‘Teethgrinder’ by Therapy? kick up…

 

 

T

 

K

 

O

 

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Clips of the Tiger Driver, the TORU Hammer, the Shooting Star Press and assorted methods of cheating intersperse between the pulsing letters, and moments later a figure in mirror shades and a flowing vinyl trenchcoat appears.

 

“And from Saitama Prefecture, Japan; he weighs in tonight at 264lbs and is one-half of the SWF Tag Team Champions,” Funyon booms, “this is the ‘Japanese Hammer’, TOOOORR-RRUUUUU… TAKA-HAAAAAAARRRRRRRAAAAAAAAA!!”

 

TORU starts to stride down towards the ring where Jay Hawke awaits but halfway down the ramp he stops and turns around, and just like Hawke did he points at the back of his coat with both thumbs. However, instead of the usual ‘TORU’, the silver script on the back instead spells out ‘JAY HAWKE = MY BITCH’

 

“YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

The fans are happy to see the arrogant Hawke brought down a peg or two and respond enthusiastically. Hawke himself appears to be grinding his teeth as TORU shrugs off his coat and hops up to the ring apron, then takes the top rope in both hands and vaults athletically over before using those same two hands to give Hawke the double bird!

 

“I think TORU might be getting a little big for his boots,” King comments, “I’ve said before that I like the guy, but he needs to start showing Jay Hawke some respect!”

 

“It must be difficult to respect someone you’ve already beaten four times since September,” Pete comments lightly.

 

“Yeah, like you’d know about multiple victories,” King snorts.

 

Hawke and TORU are squaring up to each other in the ring and it is taking all of referee Brian Warner’s efforts to prevent them from starting the match right now. However, he is helped in this endeavour by the distracting sound of Cypress Hill’s ‘How I Could Just Kill A Man’ kicking up, and the-

 

*BOOOM!!*

 

-explosion of blue and white pyro that signals the arrival of the SWF’s one and only active Australian!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Stryke bursts through the wall of flame and smoke and jumps up and down a couple of times before jogging quickly down the entrance ramp, slapping hands with a few fans as he goes.

 

“And from Sydney, Australia,” Funyon declares, “weighing in at 230lbs… STRRRRYYYYKE!!”

 

The Sydney Superstar hops up to the apron and takes a moment to stare out at the fans, who rise in response, then steps through the ropes and starts performing some stretches (while keeping a close eye on TORU and Jay Hawke just in case they try something pre-emptive).

 

“For the first time that I can remember, Stryke is a focused individual in the SWF,” Longdogger Pete exclaims as the camera zooms in on Stryke’s face, noting the scar that runs down one side of it. “He’s a veteran of several years, but apart from a US Title reign his time in the SWF hasn’t been that notable-”

 

“-yeah, he kept losing to Spike Jenkins,” King cuts in uncharitably.

 

“-regardless,” Pete continues with a sideways glare at his commentary partner, “Stryke is back with a better attitude, both towards and fans and regarding his in-ring work. I feel confident that top-flight success is only a short time away for him!”

 

Abruptly the arena lights go out, leaving everyone sitting in darkness. A few fans start booing, but the majority of the Ohio audience aren’t that quick on the uptake and are therefore taken by complete surprise…

 

‘HEY HEY!’

 

*BOOOM!!*

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Atake FDD’s ‘Tu Final’ explodes over the speakers as a violent burst of red, green and white sparks shoots up from the stage, helping to illuminate the form of the World Heavyweight Champion as he strides through defiantly waving his Mexican flag and picked out by a single spotlight.

 

“And from Mexico City,” Funyon bellows, struggling to be heard over the booing of the crowd, “weighing in tonight at 210lbs, he is the reigning SWF World Heavyweight Champion… EL LUCHADORRRRRRRRRE… MAG-NIFICOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Magnifico rolls under the bottom rope before standing upright and thrusting his flag up high, reigniting the arena lights… and revealing that he is surrounded on three sides by three SWF superstars who all have designs on the big gold belt that is strapped around his waist! Mags starts in surprise, then draws back the flag to whack Stryke with the pole… but TORU reaches out one massive hand and grabs it, then hauls it out of the outraged Mexican’s grasp!

The Japanese Hammer hurls the flag unceremoniously over the top rope, then by unspoken agreement he, Stryke and Jay Hawke all start pounding on the World Champion!

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Barbarians! Philistines!” King screams, standing up in his seat. “Show some respect, damn your eyes! That man’s your World Champion!”

 

“Correction,” Longdogger Pete laughs, “that man is rapidly approaching the consistency of meat paste! Sit down King, righteous indignation doesn’t suit you.”

 

Indeed, Magnifico is getting beaten on from all sides and his attempts to cover up and weather the storm aren’t getting anywhere. In desperation the bruised World Champion scrambles for the only opening he can find, which happens to be directly through TORU’s legs! The big man bends down to try and grab his escaping opponent… and ‘accidentally’ catches a right hand to the temple from Jay Hawke as he does so. That of course prompts TORU to straighten up and fire back, and within seconds the Japanese Hammer and the Dean of Professional Wrestling have renewed their boiling rivalry, Magnifico completely forgotten. ELM himself has rolled under the bottom rope and grabbed his flag then started to head for the back, apparently done with wrestling for one evening… but someone else has another idea.

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

The cheers of the fans give Magnifico a moment’s warning before a hand grabs his shoulder and spins him around. Stryke ducks the swing the World Champion takes at him with his flag, then wraps his arm around Magnifico’s neck and applies a sleeperhold as the Mexican’s momentum spins him around! ELM struggles desperately, but just as he drops his flag and reaches up to try and prise Stryke’s arm away the Australian kicks his legs out and takes Magnifico down with a Sleeper Drop on the ramp!

 

“For God’s sake, get some security out here!” King bawls as he sees the World Champion clutching the back of his head while Stryke takes a second to milk the applause. “Magnifico could have a concussion! He certainly shouldn’t be forced to continue!”

 

“Stop whining,” Pete admonishes the Gambling Man, “and concentrate on the ring! Hawke and TORU are the legal men!”

 

Indeed they are, although only by elimination really. As Stryke picks Magnifico up and hauls him back towards the ring (pausing briefly to divest the groggy World Champion of his title belt and hand it to the timekeeper who has rushed around to take it into safe keeping) Hawke and TORU are going at it in the ring. Even as the camera changes to show the in-ring action Hawke reverses an Irish whip attempt and sends TORU into the ropes instead, then catches the Japanese Hammer as he comes back. His tilt-a-whirl backbreaker doesn’t seem to be feasible due to the size difference, but Hawke still manages to scoop the onrushing Japanese Hammer up and drop him across one knee in a serviceable pendulum backbreaker that sends TORU rolling away and clutching at his spine. Jay Hawke isn’t one to pass up a possible advantage and he quickly follows up by straddling the bigger man’s back and applying a Camel Clutch.

 

“That’s excellent strategy from Hawke,” King points out, “keeping the bigger man on the mat, working the back, and not letting him tag anyone else in.”

 

“I agree,” Pete remarks, “it’s just a shame that this tactical genius was kicking the crap out of your beloved World Champion a minute ago, eh?”

 

“…remarks like that are why you’ll never become Commissioner, MacDougal.”

 

However, Hawke isn’t having it all his own way. TORU certainly has no plans on letting his back be bent like an accordion and he fights to muscle upwards, finally managing to unhook one arm from over Hawke’s knee and using it to push. The Dean of Professional Wrestling tries to wrench back harder on his opponent’s neck to cut him off but TORU has his legs under him now, and with one final heave the Japanese Hammer surges upright with Hawke still clinging to him in a piggyback position. Before Jay can react TORU simply charges straight backwards into a neutral corner, sandwiching his opponent between the buckles and 260lbs of Tag Champion!

 

*WHAM!*

 

Hawke releases his grip and staggers out of the corner, coughing as the air is blasted from his lungs. TORU turns around and scoops the International Champion up across his chest, then suddenly performs a backflip and crushes Hawke down against the canvas with a Blockbuster Slam! However, instead of going for a pin TORU steps through the ropes and begins to ascend to the top buckle…

 

“TORU Takahara is about to go airborne!” Pete exclaims.

 

The Japanese Hammer reaches the top rope, slaps his right knee and jumps off…

 

…Jay Hawke rolls aside…

 

…and TORU lands lightly on his feet at the base of the corner post, having simply dropped to the mat again. Hawke rolls up to his feet, clearly wondering why there isn’t a large Japanese man rolling around clutching his knee after a failed TORU Hammer…

 

*CRACK!*

 

…and he keeps wondering that right up until he turns around to find TORU sprinting towards him, and the big man nails him with a Shining Enzuigiri!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

…but Hawke kicks out right after two, before either Stryke or Magnifico can step through the ropes to try and break the pin up.

 

“That’s called adaptation,” Pete claims, “TORU remembered that Hawke has avoided the TORU Hammer before and faked his opponent out!”

 

“Did it get the win?” King says in response, “no, it didn’t. You won’t find Hawke doing that sort of unnecessary showboating.”

 

You won’t find Jay Hawke doing much showboating of any kind as it happens, because right now he’s being scooped up by TORU and then slammed back down to the mat. The big man then drops a knee into his opponent’s forehead before heading over to the corner where Magnifico is standing and reaching out one hand. The World Champion glowers at TORU but extends his own hand to tag… and TORU pulls his hand away, giving ELM the bird instead!

 

“T!K!O!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

Magnifico is pissed at the show of such blatant disrespect and takes a swing at TORU but the Japanese Hammer has turned away and is already out of reach of the World Champion, instead walking back to Jay Hawke and picking the Dean of Professional Wrestling up (by his hair, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by Brian Warner) and hauling him over to Stryke’s corner. This time TORU does make the tag before grabbing Hawke more firmly and elevating the International Champion, then dropping him ribs-first over one knee with a gutbuster. Then:

 

‘BAD BOY!’

 

*SMACK!*

 

“Er… did we just see one-half of the Tag Champions spank our International Champion?” Pete asks in disbelief.

 

Meanwhile Stryke has climbed to the top rope, and as TORU plays to the fans Stryke jumps off the top to land a double stomp square in the Ohio native’s back, further driving his ribs into TORU’s massive knee!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Stryke performs an Olympic-perfect dismount as he bounces off Hawke’s back, and TORU lets the International Champion slide to the floor before exiting through the ropes. However, as the Japanese Hammer’s back is turned Stryke swoops on the winded Hawke and twists his arm before taking the American over with a La Magistral!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…Hawke kicks out, much to the disappointment of the crowd who were clearly hoping that the Sydney Superstar would steal a quick one. Stryke is still first off the mark though as he grabs a headlock on Hawke to prevent the Dean of Professional Wrestling from getting to his feet; at least, that’s the theory, but Hawke seems reluctant to co-operate and with only a minimum of effort he manages to transition the headlock into a hammerlock applied to Stryke and forces the Australian down onto his face. From there Hawke turns it into first one, then two chickenwings on his unfortunate opponent, before hooking his hands together and rolling to one side and bridging as he does so. Struggle as he might, Stryke suddenly finds himself being rolled onto his shoulders in a position similar to the final stage of a Tiger Suplex, with both shoulders in contact with the mat!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…luckily for Stryke he’s able to kick his legs and overbalance himself, falling to one side and escaping the pin (although wrenching one arm nastily in the process). Hawke keeps the chickenwing applied on that arm and, with his opponent back on his front, attempts to reach around in order to secure the crossface part of the Wing Span; Stryke isn’t too happy about this though and begins firing back elbows with his free arm. He can’t get much power behind them, but even relatively weak elbows to the cheekbone are enough to convince most people to wait for a bit before trying that again, and Hawke is no exception. The International Champion grabs the back of Stryke’s head and rams it into the mat, then releases his chickenwing and heads over to Magnifico’s corner to tag the World Champion in.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“I despair of these fans sometimes,” King remarks, “not only do they not appreciate the wrestling brain of Jay Hawke in tagging out after he’s taken some punishment, but they also show no respect for the imminent arrival of our World Champion.”

 

Indeed they don’t, and Magnifico doesn’t show much pleasure as a result. The Mexican heads straight over to Stryke and grabs him by the hair to pull him upright (earning a warning from Brian Warner, which he completely ignores) before taking his opponent’s left arm, the one weakened in the escape from the double chickenwing pin, and wrapping both of his arms around it before dropping backwards with a single-arm DDT.

 

*BANG!*

 

Stryke yells out in pain and clutches at his shoulder but Magnifico is unrepentant, transitioning into a Fujiwara armbar that he cranks back on with all his strength. The Sydney Superstar fixes his eyes on the ropes and start to try and crawl there using his legs and his free arm, but Magnifico doesn’t like that plan and releases his grip with one arm in order to reach forward with that hand and dig it into Stryke’s eyes!

 

“YEEEAARRRGGGHHH!”

 

‘ONE!’

 

‘TWO!’

 

‘THREE!’

 

‘FOUR!’

 

‘FI-’

 

Magnifico breaks just before Warner would be forced to disqualify him and reapplies his full strength to Stryke’s arm, but his plan has worked at least temporarily as the Australian is more concerned with wiping at his eyes with his free hand rather than trying to reach the ropes.

 

“El Luchadore Magnifico is one of the most talented athletes this bid’ness has ever seen,” Pete says with regret, “but he still insists on treating the rulebook as his own personal plaything. Why can’t he face his opponents fairly?”

 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed Dogger, but he has three opponents here tonight,” King retorts, “it’s three-on-one, and Stryke is loving his unfair advantage!”

 

“Nonsense!” Pete fires back, “it’s every man for himself!”

 

“Oh yeah? I didn’t see a three-man beatdown on Stryke at the beginning of this match!”

 

Stryke has recovered from ELM’s dastardly attack and has started to crawl towards the ropes again. Brian Warner is getting in Magnifico’s face and informing him in no uncertain terms what the consequences will be if he dares to go for the eyes again, so the World Champion grits his teeth and simply tries to hyperextend his opponent’s elbow before Stryke reaches safety. Unfortunately for him Magnifico simply doesn’t have enough time and the Aussie’s other hand manages to clasp the bottom rope. Warner starts counting immediately and Magnifico gives the referee a disgusted look as he releases the armbar and rolls away. Stryke cradles his injured left arm to his side and starts to get to his feet, using his other hand to pull himself up on the ropes, but Magnifico hits a dropkick to the back of the head and sends his opponent sprawling chest-first over them, then climbs on Stryke’s back and pull on the top rope to try and choke the life from the Sydney Superstar!

 

‘ONE!’

 

‘TWO!’

 

‘THREE!’

 

‘FOUR!’

 

‘FI-’

 

Once more, Magnifico releases just before the disqualification point. Warner starts shouting at him, but the World Champion’s response is simply to roll under the ropes to the outside and retrieve his Mexican flag from the floor of the arena, then set it up in his corner!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

With the pride of his country now displayed, Magnifico grabs the wheezing Stryke and hauls him towards that same corner, then grabs the back of his head and forces the Australian to look at the Mexican flag. The next second he rams Stryke’s head into the top buckle-

 

*WHAM!*

 

-and then does the whole thing again!

 

*WHAM!*

 

And again!

 

“Fantastic,” King laughs as Magnifico bawls at Stryke in Spanish, pointing at the flag before bouncing the Sydney Superstar’s head off the pad one more time, “our World Champion is educating the Antipodean in the superiority of Latin America!”

 

“You think Latin America is superior?” Pete asks in surprise. King just heaves a dreamy sigh.

 

“Ah MacDougal, you just can’t beat a senorita.”

 

“Not unless you pay extra, eh King?”

 

“I- what? No, that’s not-”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

The crowd cut the commentators off in mid-bicker as Stryke suddenly plants his foot on the middle buckle, preventing Magnifico from continuing in his lesson on cranial percussion! Try as he might the World Champion can’t prevail, and Stryke capitalises by lashing out with his right elbow and catching Magnifico in the face. The Mexican turns away holding his head and Stryke whirls round after him, latching one arm around Magnifico’s head from behind before kicking his feet out and dropping with an inverted DDT!

 

“LET’S GO STRYKE!”

 

“LET’S GO STRYKE!”

 

Stryke instinctively used his left arm to break his own fall and winces in pain as the shock of his landing jars up the hurt arm; regardless, the Sydney Superstar rolls away from his opponent and starts to struggle up to his feet, apparently heading for the corner where TORU Takahara is reaching out a hand. Magnifico sits up holding his head and takes in the situation, then reacts instantaneously.

 

By spitting at Jay Hawke.

 

“Huh?” Pete says as the Dean of Professional Wrestling takes a loogie hit high on one cheek, “what the hell was that for?”

 

“Watch and learn, MacDougal!” King laughs, and sure enough the World Champion’s plan springs into action as the angry Hawke steps through the ropes, intent on getting some payback. Brian Warner dashes to cut him off…

 

*CHING!*

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

…and Magnifico lunges after Stryke, slamming a forearm up between his legs from behind and halting his efforts to tag TORU in with a lowblow!

 

“Goddammit!” Pete half shouts in frustration as Stryke collapses to his knees in a private world of agony, “would it kill you to play by the rules for once, Mags?”

 

Apparently so, as Magnifico grins sadistically in response to the chorus of jeers that are flooding in from all sides. The World Champion grabs Stryke by his hair and hauls him up, then hooks the Australian into a front facelock before capturing one leg and hoisting him into the air, finally dropping backwards to spike him onto his skull with the Barrio Buster!

 

*BANG!*

 

Magnifico lazily rolls on top of his opponent, sprawling one arm across Stryke’s chest as he raises the other into the air to count along with Brian Warner…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…but Stryke kicks out even before TORU and Hawke can get there to break the pin up! TORU doesn’t let that stop him and the big man drives his foot into Magnifico’s jaw anyway, prompting a cheer from the TKO Section at ringside as Magnifico rolls away cursing in Spanish. However, this brief respite doesn’t seem to do much for Stryke as he is unable to do much more than sit up holding his head. A few seconds later Magnifico is back in the game, and with a venomous glare at TORU the World Champion grabs Stryke by the head and brings him up to a standing position. This time ELM forces the Syndey Superstar’s left arm up behind his back in a chickenwing before resting Stryke’s chin on his shoulder…

 

“Don’t drink the water,” King comments lazily.

 

*CRUNCH!*

 

“Montezuma’s Revenge!” Pete calls in dismay as Stryke has his neck snapped back and his arm jarred by the chickenwing jawbreaker. Magnfico gets back to his feet and nods in satisfaction… then wheels around and darts for the corner where TORU is standing, pasting the big man in the face with a forearm smash before the Japanese Hammer realises what’s happening! Takahara falls off the apron and Magnifico dusts his hands off ostentatiously before heading back to the Stryke. The World Champion brings his Australian opponent up one more time before drawing one thumb across his throat to call for the end! The Mexican superstar hoists Stryke up with a scoop slam in preparation for Dia de los Muertos… but Stryke slips out the back and shoves Magnifico away with his one good arm! Magnifico whirls around, but Stryke leaps into the air and delivers a stunning enzuigiri!

 

*CRACK!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

With the World Champion down, Stryke has two choices; go for the pin, or take a breather. The old Stryke might have gone for glory, but he’s a wiser animal now and instead looks around for options. TORU is still rubbing his jaw on the outside, so the Sydney Superstar heads instead for Jay Hawke. For his part, Hawke is paying no attention to the man whom he was wrestling only a few minutes ago and instead is fully focussed on the one who spat in his face; he holds out his hand and takes the tag from Stryke, then steps through the ropes with an expression that suggests he means business!

 

“FUCK HIM UP JAY HAWKE, FUCK HIM UP!”

 

“FUCK HIM UP JAY HAWKE, FUCK HIM UP!”

 

Despite their hatred of the man (damn those Clevelanders), the Toledo crowd are quite ready to cheer him on against the asshole of the World Champion they’ve had to endure since Genesis. Magnifico gets back to his feet holding his head… and immediately goes straight back down again as Hawke delivers a running leg lariat! Hawke doesn’t wait for Magnifico to rise again under his own steam, instead straddling the Mexican cruiserweight’s chest and bitch-slapping him until Brian Warner pulls him off!

 

“FUCK HIM UP JAY HAWKE, FUCK HIM UP!”

 

For once it looks like Hawke intends to do a bit of crowd pleasing, as he grabs Magnifico and hauls him up by his long black hair, then transitions into a reverse facelock before dropping the World Champion with an inverted DDT onto the knee. Hawke then makes the cover…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…but TORU is in to break it up with a boot to the back of the head! Now it’s Hawke’s turn to glare at the big man of TKO, but he knows better than to stop concentrating on an athlete with Magnifico’s abilities and instead gets back to his feet before dropping a leg across the World Champion’s throat. As Magnifico spasms on the mat Hawke gets back to his feet and heads for one of the neutral corners, stepping through the ropes before climbing to the top buckle. From there the Dean of Professional Wrestling taps his head a couple of times and leaps off, seeking to bury that same skull into El Luchadore Magnifico… but the World Champion rolls aside!

 

*BANG!*

 

Hawke grabs his head and instinctively scrambles away from the site of his crash landing, trying to distance himself from his opponent before Magnifico can capitalise. The International Champion ends up in a seated position at the base of the corner post where Stryke is standing, and sensing that Magnfico is still hurt the Australian leans down to tag himself in, then starts climbing to the top rope himself!

 

“That’s right, let Hawke do your dirty work!” King spits. “Goddamn convicts, you all make me sick!”

 

ELM has got up to his feet and is looking around wondering where Hawke went. He catches sight of the Dean sitting in the corner and his face brightens… but then he notices that the ringpost seems rather taller than usual, and a moment later Stryke leaps off to plant both feet into the World Champion’s chest with a missile dropkick!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“You won’t see a better one of those in the SWF!” LDP bellows as the Australian practically bounces back to his feet. “Just imagine what it could do for Stryke’s career if he pins El Luchadore Magnifico, the World Champion, here tonight in Toledo!”

 

“In that unlikely event, it’ll put a completely unrealistic weight of expectation on his shoulders which will never be realised in actual results until everyone accepts that it was a fluke occurrence with no bearing on reality,” Suicide King responds promptly.

 

“King? Shut up.”

 

Stryke is getting ready, stalking ELM as the World Champion starts to struggle back to his feet. Once Magnifico is upright the Australian darts in, shoves his head under the Mexican’s right arm and wraps his arms around his opponent’s waist…

 

“Backdrop Driver!” Pete yells.

 

…but as Stryke bridges backwards Magnifico boosts himself off the ground and flips completely backwards, landing on his feet while Stryke tries to kill his momentum and instead merely lands on his ass! The World Champion immediately digs the heel of his boot into the grounded Australian’s face and rakes his eyes, then turns and lunges for TORU Takahara!

 

*smak!*

 

TORU looks surprised at the tag but shrugs and steps through the ropes, then as Stryke gets back up to his feet he charges, arm outstretched for a lariat! Stryke sees him coming in plenty of time and ducks, but TORU simply continues on to land the blow on Jay Hawke -now on the apron- and sending the Dean crashing to the arena floor before giving the International Champion a middle-finger salute!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Cheap shot,” King and Pete call at the same time, then glare at each other.

 

TORU turns around and finds Stryke facing him; this time the Japanese Hammer doesn’t charge blindly and instead the two men start circling. However, once they’ve completed a half-circle TORU abruptly turns away and lunges for Magnifico as the World Champion recuperates on the apron, pasting him with a backhanded slap to the face!

 

*SMACK!*

 

Brian Warner signals that a tag has been made -albeit an aggressive one- and TORU grabs the dazed Mexican and throws him back into the ring by his head, then points at Stryke and steps through the ropes to the apron again! Magnifico sees Stryke bearing down on him and tries begging off, but the Australian hauls him to his feet before peppering him with rights, then switching to European Uppercuts that have the World Champion staggering back against the ropes before rebounding into the next one!

 

“It’s payback time, and Magnifico is getting cut down to size here!” Pete hollers. “Stryke is- what the hell!?”

 

Jay Hawke has crawled right under the ring and emerged beneath TORU before reaching up to grab his ankles and tugging the big man’s legs out from under him to send him smashing headfirst into the apron! TORU staggers backwards clutching his face and Hawke gets to his feet before unleashing a knife-edge chop into his enemy’s chest! TORU staggers again, but retaliates with a knee to the gut that doubles Hawke over before simply ramming the Dean headfirst into the announce desk!

 

*CRASH!*[/b][/b]

 

Meanwhile in the ring Magnifico is looking distinctly punch-drunk and he lets fly with a wild right hand that Stryke easily ducks… before wrapping both arms around the World Champion’s waist and bridging backwards!

 

*WHAM!!*

 

“BACKDROP DRIVAAAAHHHH!!” Pete roars above the crowd, “he got him! Stryke’s got him!”

 

The weary Australian hooks the leg with his good arm and waits for Warner to make the count…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

Broken up by TORU with a knee to the head!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

The Japanese Hammer doesn’t give Stryke a moment to recover; instead he drags the Sydney Superstar towards the corner of the ring by his hair, then steps through the ropes and tags himself in off the Australian’s back, before re-entering the ring and pressing Stryke over the top rope onto the still-dazed Jay Hawke outside!

 

“TORU SUCKS!”

 

“TORU SUCKS!”

 

The fans aren’t happy about seeing their favourite robbed of his victory, but TORU hasn’t finished yet; the Japanese Hammer ascends to the top buckle of his corner, then turns towards Magnifico’s Mexican flag in the adjoining corner… and salutes!

 

“Oh no,” King says in mounting horror, “not this!”

 

TORU leaps off the top buckle, flipping through the air and slamming down onto the semi-conscious World Champion with a SHOOTING STAR PRESS!

 

*WHAM!*

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner,” Funyon booms, “TOOORRR-RRRRRUUUU… TAKA-HAAAAAAAARRRRRRRAAAAAAAAA!”

 

“I don’t believe it,” Pete exclaims, “not only did TORU steal Stryke’s victory, he used Magnifico’s Mexican Pride Press to do it!”

 

“It’s an outrage! It’s a travesty!” King bawls. “I don’t care if he uses the move anyway, I want him suspended! No, I want him FIRED!

 

Neither of those things seem to be forthcoming however; Stryke claws his way back up to ring level to see TORU departing up the ramp, having snatched another big victory from him as we

 

 

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT

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FADE IN…

 

Mystikal’s “Bouncin’ Back” kicks up from the speakers! Instantly, this crowd is on their feet with a thunderous cheer for their unsung hero – the Wildchild. The fans cheer even louder as Wildchild steps out onto the stage with Melissa Fasaki following closely, and cautiously behind him.

 

“Welcome back to Smarkdown,” the voice of Longdogger Pete shouts out as the cameras pan across the sea of excited fans. “Right now it looks like Wildchild is heading to the ring. He’s not scheduled for a match tonight so I’d assume he has something to say to his fans here in Toledo, Ohio!”

 

“This is certainly peculiar for the Bahama Bomber,” adds King. “He usually doesn’t do a lot of talking at ringside. Maybe he’s making a farewell speech.”

 

“Somehow, I doubt that,” replies Pete. Wildchild slides into the ring and reaches for a microphone. He heads back to the middle of the squared circle, hand-in-hand with Melissa, and surveys the fans in attendance.

 

“DUB-CEE!”

“DUB-CEE!”

“DUB-CEE!”

“DUB-CEE!”

 

“As most of you all know, I’m not much for making speeches,” Wildchild begins, holding out his hand to quiet the fans. “I tend t’let my actions in the ring do most of my talking, but every now and den somet’ing comes up dat jus’ can’t be ignored. Sometimes t’ings mus’ be addressed…like Johnny Dangerous!”

 

“RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“Finally!” Pete excitedly shouts. “It’s about damn time Wildchild confronted his ex-tag team partner head on, and judging by this crowds reaction I’d say their excited to see good Ol’ Dub-Cee, at long last put, his foot down.”

 

“I think you might be jumping to conclusions again, Toilet-Clogger! Maybe Wildchild is ready to admit defeat and wave his little white flag of surrender,” King offers, but Pete dismisses the thought with a shake of his head.

 

“You see, I’ve remained quiet for some time now, as Johnny has continued t’attack me show after show,” Wildchild continues, “all de while proclaiming that *I* needed t’stay clear of *him* – dat *I* need to leave *him* be. Well, after Lockdown I’ve had just about enough!”

 

“RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“I’ve tried t’remain civil. I never wanted t’have to fight the man dat I called friend – dat I called a brother – for so long… but dere is only so far dat you can push me before I am gon’ t’push back! Johnny, if you want t’attack me…so why don’ you bring your sorry ass down here now and attack me!”

 

“RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“Wildchild has just issued a challenge to the Barracuda!” reports Pete. “I don’t think Johnny Dangerous is man enough to answer it, however. He won’t attack Wildchild unless he either has the help of Bruce Blank or Wildchild’s back is turned!”

 

“Bruce Blank had nothing to do with Lockdown – that was his retarded brother Wayne Blank,” counters King. “Besides, you underestimate Johnny Dangerous. He’d have no problems fighting Wildchild and he’d win handedly.”

 

Wildchild stares at the curtains, waiting to see if Johnny has the guts to bring himself out here. Soon, the crowd begins to settle and the only movement with the curtains is the gentle breeze blowing through them from backstage.

 

“I knew dat you were too much of a scared little-”

 

“JOHNNY DANGEROUS!”

 

*BOOOOOOOOM!*

 

A row of pyrotechnic fire off from the stage as ‘After the Flesh’ kicks up, pounding into ever corner of the arena! Finally, the curtains part, and the Barracuda steps out from behind them to a vast roar of boos!

 

“I told you he would show up,” King says smugly as Johnny struts down the aisle – water bottles whizzing past his head – and heads towards the ring. He climbs in and glides past Wildchild and Melissa, paying no heed to his former friend. Wildchild keeps a steady eye of the Barracuda while putting an arm back to block Melissa out of harms way. Johnny requests a microphone and then heads back towards the center of the ring, standing several feet away from Wildchild. Smiling smugly he adjusts his high-tech shades and raises the microphone to his lips…

 

“JOHN-E SUCKS!”

“JOHN-E SUCKS!”

“JOHN-E SUCKS!”

“JOHN-E SUCKS!”

 

…but the surge of chants against him is so tremendous he wouldn’t be heard if he were to speak. He smiles in response to these obviously ignorant fans as Wildchild’s eyes narrow as he regards his former ally.

 

“Well,” Johnny arrogantly begins, “so it seems that my little friend here wants to play with the big boys.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

“Wildchild, you don’t know what you’re asking for by coming down to this ring and *trying* to call me out. Truly you haven’t become so foolish that you’d even begin to think that you, of all people, could possibly take me on. Truly, Wildchild, you haven’t forgotten that I already told you to stay out of my way,” says Johnny, jabbing his pointing finger into Wildchild’s chest. Wildchild furiously slaps the Barracuda’s hand down and steps up to his face.

 

“I’ve heard jus’ about enough of your mouth running for weeks now, Johnny!” shouts Wildchild. “All I’ve heard is you spouting off about how freaking great you t’ink you are and how *I* destroyed Wild and Dangerous… when it was you, Johnny! You’re de one dat was responsible! All you had t’say was dat you wanted t’move on, an’ I would have stepped aside; I’m man enough dat I could have accepted dat. If you didn’t want t’tag anymore dat was fine… but you couldn’t jus’ let it go at dat, could you!?”

 

Wildchild lowers his microphone as he takes a step back from Johnny. The Barracuda’s smile is no longer present, replaced with a cold expression as he stares a hole into Wildchild.

 

“You know what happened, Johnny - you know de truth! I stood by your side for months as you tried t’figure yourself out, as you tried t’figure out what you wanted t’do. You know, you sure as hell had no problem leaving me high and dry on several occasions while you made up your mind, but I still stayed loyal t’you. Even when dese fans started t’turn against me because you were acting like such a spoiled little ass dat dey didn’t like you anymore, and dey didn’ like me hanging out with you, but even den, I *still* stuck wit’ you…but now I see dat I should have kicked you to de wayside a long time ago!”

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“I’m not gon’ t’stand here any longer and allow myself t’be attacked, or have my honor called into question by you! It’s time t’give all de fans what dey’ve wanted to see for a very, very long time now… and with Christmas coming up it’s de perfect time t’give into wishes and wants. Johnny, at this years Christmas pay-per-view, it’s time dat we finally give de people Wild versus Dangerous!”

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“Whoa!” exclaims Pete. “That is definitely a match of the ages and one that’s been a long time coming! I think I speak for everyone involved when I say that THAT match would be high on everyone’s Christmas lists!”

 

The crowd settles after a few moments of cheering their hearts out at the issued challenge then finally settles when Johnny raises the microphone to his lips.

 

“Well I never thought I’d see the day when you challenged me to a match, Dominic,” he says. “After all the years of me carrying you on my back I would have thought that you would have more sense than that…but I guess not. However, unlike you, I’m in the Cold Front Classic tournament that will be concluded with me winning at the Christmas pay-per-view, so I don’t think I’ll be available. Sorry.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

“If you’re so much better dan me, den it shouldn’t be a problem for you t’wressle two matches in one night, Johnny,” says Wildchild. “Unless, of course, you just don’ have de guts t’fight me when my back isn’ turned!”

 

Cheers pour from the stands once more. Johnny crossly stares at his former friend before nodding his head. “You’re right,” he says. “I can wrestle five matches in one night and win them all. If it’s a beating you want then it’s a beating you’ll get – I accept!”

 

With that the Barracuda quickly swings his fist at Wildchild’s face, but the Bahaman is more than prepared. He knew not to step in the ring against this man and not expect such a cheap attack and quickly ducks out of the way. Johnny pivots on his foot and spins around to face Wildchild only to get peppered in the face with a barrage of fists!

 

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

 

With the crowd cheering Wildchild on he backs Johnny into the ropes and then whips him to the opposite end of the ring. Johnny hits the ropes and springs back towards the Bahama Bomber-

 

*KA-RACK!*

 

-and Johnny nails Dominic LeCroix in the face with a Yakuza Kick on the return, flooring the crowd favorite instantly. Boos ring out as the Barracuda smiles devilishly before turning his attention to Melissa. He quickly darts after her but she drops to the mat and slides out of the ring to avoid him. Tearfully, she runs from ringside back up the ramp, knowing there is nothing she can do for her boyfriend except save him the peace of mind in knowing that she is alright.

 

“Well it looks like we have another match signed for the Christmas show,” says Pete. “Wild versus Dangerous will finally go down but if Johnny is able to continue his dominance of Wildchild like he’s been doing the past several weeks then it won’t be much of a match for the Bahama Bomber.”

 

“You can’t say Johnny didn’t warn him though,” adds Pete. “The Barracuda will have to work two matches at the Christmas show so expect him to make quick work of the Wildchild and save his energy for later in the night.”

 

“We shall see when we get there,” says Pete, “but for now it’s time to head to a commercial break. We’ll be right back, folks!”

 

‘After the Flesh’ is pounding from the speakers much to the dismay of everyone in attendance as the Barracuda stretches his arms out to the booing masses. On the canvas lies Wildchild, yet to move, with a trickle of blood running down his lip…

 

 

 

As We:

FADE OUT

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A hushed silence fills the Toledo Sports Arena as we come back from break, the camera going around the ring to show off the ominous steel cage. The lights slowly come back on to the arena to show the ring surrounded by the steel. The cage being used for this match is one with iron bars instead of the steel mesh that is being used by most companies these days, ala the old "blue bars" cage that used to be used by the WWF.

 

"Well, we've reached the point that people have waiting all night for. That ominous steel cage is waiting for two men who just a few shows ago were tag team partners!" Pete reminds the crowd.

 

"But that's all in the past, and I personally can't wait for this match." Suicide King continues. "I can't wait for Blank to beat Max to a bloody pulp in the cage and get the title shot that he so rightly deserves."

 

"Don't you think you're underestimating Max's skills?"

 

"No, I think I'm giving him too much of a chance against a guy like Blank."

 

Pete sighs a bit. "Let's go to the ring for introductions.

 

The camera gets a close up of Funyon at ringside, ready to announce as always.

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, this is our main event of the evening, and it is a Steel Cage Match to determine the Number One Contender for the SWF Tag Team Championship. The only way to win this match is to climb over the top of the cage and land on the arena floor.

 

Immediately after Funyon finishes his statement, the lights in the arena go out. The crowd is getting anxious, knowing that soon someone that they like now will be coming out. After a few seconds...

 

"THE KING...HAS...RETURNED!"

 

BOOM!

 

"Superstar" starts to play over the speakers after the explosion of fireworks goes off, and after a few seconds more Max King steps through the curtain, Kelly Connelly by his side. King, knowing how brutal a match like this would be, is wearing jeans and a black SWF T-Shirt tonight instead of his normal. Kelly is wearing the same, but with Daisy Dukes instead of full jeans.

 

Funyon: Introducing first, accompanied to the ring by Kelly "The Queen" Connelly...from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania...standing 6'3" tall and weighing in at 250 pounds..."THE ICON"...MAX...KING!"

 

"Max King is the one that made this challenge for Blank, not happy about some of the actions of his now former tag team partner in recent weeks. He doesn't feel like working along with someone with Blank's reputation for trouble, so he..."

 

Suicide King interrupts. "Wait a second, what is Max King doing?" he notes, as King slips to the side of the stage, keeping his back to the stage in wait. Kelly goes down to ringside, to give a bit of an illusion of King being in the ring.

 

"I think that King has a plan for Blank, and some people may agree that Blank will deserve it!" Pete noted. "And King pulling out those brass knuckles from his pocket!"

 

"Don't Ask Me No Questions" starts playing, and the crowd's jeers come out REALLY loudly as the SWF Ultraviolent Champion makes his way out.

 

Funyon: Aaand his opponent...from...

 

Before Funyon can finish up his announcement, King comes around the corner and BLASTS him across the face with his brass knuckle clad hand. The giant man from the trailer park gets knocked down hard, caught off guard by "The Icon"...who grabs Blank by his hair and goes to grab him and drag him to the ring.

 

"This is grossly unfair to Blank!" King protests as Max tosses Blank into the cage. "He didn't even get a chance to come out to the ring before King blindsided him!"

 

"Well, I guess Max feels turnabout is fair play in this case." Pete notes. "Like he feels that Blank would do the same to him if he had the chance. King into the ring, and this match is officially underway!"

 

Max King grins as the door slams, Blank using the ropes to get up to his feet. The camera zooms onto Blank's face, which is bruised a bit from the shot he took, but not yet bleeding. As Blank is trying to get up to his feet, King comes off the ropes and gives him a HARD punt right into the ribs, sending Blank back down to the mat face first. Blank tries to climb up to his feet, but King goes off the ropes, and just STOMPS on Blank's head before he can get up again.

 

"King in full advantage of this match in the early goings, and that's a smart move by the Icon, not letting Blank get any advantage." Pete says

 

"But I thought King wanted to be a different man! This is just wrong, and this match should be re-started!" Suicide continues to protest as King grabs Blank by his hair and tries to get him to his feet. When Blank is fully up though, he manages to nail King with a right hand right to the face. King starts to retaliate with fists of his own, but Blank's power advantage helps his punches get more of a sting to them than King's punches. Blank manages to back King up into the ropes, but as Blank swings for another right hand, King ducks out of the way, and Blank smashes his own arm against the metal of the cage!

 

King doesn't stop to rest up and recover, instead grabbing Blank by the back of the head, ready to slam Blank's head into the steel. Blank manages to block the attempt though, grabbing "The Icon's" head in an attempt of his own. King manages to block, but with his hands holding the cage, it leaves King wide open for Blank to swing a clubbing forearm right into the back of King.

 

"And Blank going right to the back of King...knowing about King's injury from that major car accident!" Pete notes. "I hate to admit it, but that's a smart move."

 

"Damn right that it's a start move!" Suicide King notes. "And if Max King gets injured in this match, then he will deserve it for how he started this match."

 

Blank steps back behind King, and before Max can turn around clasps his hands and drops a sledgehammer blow right into the small of King's back. "The Icon" is writhing down on the mat after the blows done to his back, and Blank feels confident enough that he has King down enough and starts climbing the side of the cage.

 

"Look at Blank, this is going to be a quick one for the Ultraviolent champ!" S. King proudly claims as Blank starts to scale the cage wall. As he does though, King starts to get up, holding his back a bit in pain at the moment. Seeing Blank trying to get out of the cage, he makes a dive for the legs, pulling them off and forcing Blank down onto the mat.

 

"I don't care how tough you are, despite his injury in the past you're not going to keep someone like Max King down with a few shots to the back." Pete calls as King nails Blank in the back of the head with an elbow shot. Max attempts to whip Bruce into a nearby corner, but Bruce's power proves too much at the moment as he reverses the move, sending King HARD into the turnbuckles. The camera gets a good look of the pain in King's face after he hits the buckles, then pulls away to see Blank charging into the corner for something. King manages to duck out of the way, causing the larger man to crash chest first into the corner. As the Ultraviolent champ turns around, the former ICTV champ starts lighting his chest up with chop...

 

"WHOOO!"

 

...after chop...

 

"WHOOO!"

 

...after chop!

 

"WHOOO!"

 

"'The Icon' is fired up tonight!" Pete calls. "And if this pace keeps up for him, this is going to be a quick one in the favor of Max King!"

 

"Don't count Blank out just yet! He isn't a champ for nothing!" S. King reminds. King again tries to whip Blank into a nearby corner, this time being successful in the attempt. King now charges in to attack Blank while the man from Mobile is stunned, but finds out that Blank hasn't been stunned just enough yet, as he gets a HARD boot right to the jaw as he comes in. "SEE! What did I tell you, Pete?"

 

"Blank's got the advantage...and he's going into his pocket? This could only spell trouble for Max King..."

 

The camera cuts to the ring, where we see that he's pulling out a lead pipe! King is completely unaware of it at the moment, and for his troubles Blank clocks him right into the ribcage area. A sick smile forms onto Blank's face, as he swings the pipe right into the small of the back of King. The screams of pain by King resonate through the arena, and it's seen that a few fans in the first few rows are wincing and some even look sick.

 

"Bruce Blank is trying to annihilate Max King for what King has forced to happen!" Pete correctly calls. "He can't take much more of this without getting a serious injury."

 

"Good! Blank should just be worrying about getting the tag team titles right now and facing Akira next PPV. Not having to face King just to get what's rightfully his."

 

Blank, having done his damage with the pipe as a weapon for now, places it on the mat, keeping it close by for some reason. The reason soon becomes apparent as he grabs King by the back of his shirt, lifting him with ease off of the canvas and up to his feet. The UV Champ stands to King's left side, and attempts to go for a side-Russian leg sweep on King to have him land on the pipe. What he doesn't realize though is that Kelly is close enough to the ring to reach into the ring and pull the pipe away, thus preventing further SEVERE damage from the pipe. Blank seems to notice, turning angrily to the red-haired manager on the outside.

 

"Oh, how I wish this wasn't a cage match right now!" S. King notes. "Then Blank could show that red-haired bimbo that you don't mess with his kind of match."

 

"Kelly going to help her man out, but that may cost her! Blank is already starting to climb up the side of the cage, and he wants out to get an attack on Kelly on the outside of the ring!"

 

"He's halfway up!" S. King notes as Blank continues to climb, having to adjust his footing a few times with the cowboy boots that he wears in the ring. He's so focused on getting to the outside of the ring and getting his hands on Kelly at the moment that he doesn't realize that King is already starting to stir behind him, getting up to his feet once again. Just before Blank tries to pull himself over the side of the cage, King moves up as fast as he can, and nails the big Alabamian with a low blow!

 

Suffice it to say, the crowd explodes in cheers at seeing this happen.

 

"Well, there's a good chance for Bruce Blank to practice birth control!" Pete says as Blank falls back down to the canvas, holding his...area...in pain. With Blank hurt, it's King's turn to start scaling the side of the cage, attempting to get the win himself.

 

"I don't care what King just did, I do NOT think that you're going to keep Blank down that long. He's making a mistake by trying to escape instead of further weaken him."

 

What Suicide King says proves to be right after a few seconds, as Blank manages to get up, climbing the side of the cage where King is climbing, getting under him and getting King onto his shoulders. With King still on his shoulders, he pulls back, falling back with an Electric Chair that sends King crashing once again onto his back!

 

"It's obvious the target of Bruce Blank is the back, and that's a rare bit of psychology for the big guy!" Pete notes.

 

"Hey, I knew that Blank was smarter than he looked! I mean, look what he did to TORU a few shows back!" S. King reminds.

 

In the ring, King is wincing HARD in pain, feeling the effects of all the punishment that Blank has already done to his back. Bruce sits up, looking back with a smile on his face at what he's already done to his very short lived former partner, standing up to his feet again. He starts yelling out at the crowd on the outside of the ring, walking around the ring proudly and stepping on the back of King as he does so. This action causes the jeering from the crowd to get even louder. Not caring about the reaction that they're having for him, Blank reaches down to pick King back up to his feet again, looking at the turnbuckle with a sick smile. He lifts King up over his head into a position for a powerbomb, quickly approaching the corner to drop King right onto the top buckle. Kelly start screaming at the top of her lungs to warn her man, and that proves the difference maker at the moment as King sees what is about to happen to him. Before Blank can drop him onto the top buckle, "The Icon" starts slugging away at the head of Blank repeatedly, targeting that bruise caused by the pre-match attack. The blows cause Blank to lose enough balance, and King takes a BIG gamble now, falling back with a Hurricanrana!

 

"Where the HELL did Max King learn a move like THAT?" Suicide King questions with a surprised tone in his voice. Max King collapses in the ring after the move, it having taken a lot of out him as well.

 

"Wherever he learned it doesn't matter, the fact is that he pulled off the move, and it allowed him to get a temporary respite from the attacks of Blank to recover." Pete calls. "But I'm sure that King will have to do much more than this to get the win."

 

"I don't think that he CAN do much more though!" S. King notes. "Look in the ring, Blank is already getting up, shaking the cobwebs up. King is still down on the ground though!"

 

Blank glares at King, not liking the fact that he did something like that off guard, and has a REALLY angry expression on his face. He grabs King by the hair before King can get back up to his feet, and ignoring shots to the gut by King, lifts "The Icon" up to his feet once again, dropping an elbow right between the shoulder blades of the former ICTV champion before lifting him up to his feet. Jaw-jacking to the capacity Ohio crowd, he uses all the strength in his nearly 300 pound frame to send King flying face first into the steel of the cage. The camera is quick to come over to the side of the ring where Max lands, seeing that King's forehead is now busted open.

 

"Oh boy, this is where things are going to get good now, Pete!" Suicide King proudly says. "Max King wanted to play dirty, and now he's going to pay for it with his career. That blood is going to have an effect on Blank like a shark with blood in the water!"

 

"Unfortunately, I'm sure that you're right about that, and Blank sees the blood on King's face." Pete notes. "King will need to fight hard if he's going to get out of a situation like this!"

 

"Not a chance!" Suicide King notes as Blank grabs King's head into a vice-like hold, and starts repeatedly clubbing away at the face of "The Icon"...specifically into the open wound on his forehead. About ten punches later, Blank simply holds King up by the hair, showing his bloody face to the crowd.

 

"WHAT DO YOU THINK OF HIM NOW?" Blank shouts to the crowd in his southern accent, causing further jeers from the crowd. Blank just smirks, shoving Max down to the apron and spits onto him, before going over to the nearest cage wall.

 

"That's it, Pete. This match is over, and Blank is going to get the win right now!" S. King calls as Bruce starts climbing up the side of the cage. Behind Blank's back, however, he fails to realize that Kelly has walked around to the timekeeper's area, grabbing a steel cage from ringside and tossing it over the cage into the ring.

 

"Kelly tossing a weapon in for her man, and I don't think that Blank is aware of it!" Pete says. "This could be just the thing that King needed to get back into the game that is this match!"

 

The chair lands right next to the head of Max King, and through glassy eyes he sees the object, then looks up to see Blank adjusting to climb up the side of the cage wall. Knowing what exactly is on the line, King grabs hold of the chair, using it as a crutch to get back up to his feet, then after re-gaining his balance gives a desperation swing to the back of the legs of Blank, causing him to slip off the side of the cage and guillotine himself onto the top rope!

 

"How low can Max King and Kelly Connelly go?" S. King asks with disgust in his voice. "This thing is a glorified handicap match with Kelly Connelly helping King out whenever she can!"

 

"Why are you complaining? You know if this was against someone like Maddix, you'd be rooting on King and Kelly and asking them for more!" Pete reminds.

 

"But this ISN'T that loser Maddix. This is the greatest Ultraviolent Champion in the history of SWF!"

 

King gets back up again, using the chair for balance as Bruce Blank recovers, and finally balances enough to swing the chair right into the back of Blank's head. The ropes are the only thing at the moment keeping Blank from going down to the mat, but another swing with the chair is enough to send the 6'7" tall tower of an individual to the mat. King looks out to the crowd, and they are loving the actions of King in this situation. Seeing Blank on his back now, King opens up the chair, placing one of the bars between the legs of the chair right onto the throat of Blank, and using it as a step to get a boost to climb up the cage!

 

"And one last shot for Blank as King goes for the escape!" Pete calls as it happens. The crowd is on their feet as King scales the side of the cage, the pain etched on his face as he's putting his back to work.

 

"Can King make it over the top though?" S. King questions. "Blank and the lead pipe did some major damage to the back of King earlier on, and those back muscles are going to be needed to get that final boost over the top!"

 

The answer to Suicide's question is never comes, as Blank gets up, coughing a bit. The chair goes flying a bit, but Blank is not worried about that as he sees that King is going for the win, climbing up to get after him again. He gets in a similar position to one he had the last time that King tried to escape from the cage, but this time faces towards the center of the ring, and pulling with all his strength powerbombs him right off the cage.

 

Unfortunately for Max King, Blank's aim was just lucky enough that King's back landed right onto the edge of the steel chair during that powerbomb.

 

"Oh yes! Isn't Blank great, Pete? He dropped King as hard as he could, and had enough presence of mind to make sure that King's back landed right into that chair! That's why the man is a champion, kid!"

 

"I think that Blank was just lucky that the chair landed where it did, that's all." Pete said. "But whether it's skill or luck on Blank's part, the fact remains that King once again has damage done to his back, and that's going to make this match even harder for him to win than it was before!

 

The camera zooms in to the face of King, and it appears to be that Max King is out cold from the way that he landed. A cut over to Blank, and the look on his face is one of relief, glad that he was able to recover fast enough to catch King before he got a chance to get the win. Looking over to see his opponent down on the mat and possibly out, Blank doesn't seem that satisfied yet, and goes to undo his belt from his pants. "The Icon" is completely oblivious to the fact as Blank pulls off the belt, adjusting it into a loop, then begins to whip Max King like he was a slave in ancient times!

 

"YES! Whip that little punk!" Suicide calls. "Show him that he's messing with the wrong person tonight, Blank!"

 

"That sound is SICKENING!" Pete calls. "Listen as the leather hits the flesh of King!"

 

Both announcers go quiet on the next whip of the belt...

 

*SMACK!*

 

And King convulses in pain on the mat, Blank continues to whip...

 

*SMACK*

 

...and whip...

 

*SMACK!*

 

and WHIP!

 

*SMAAAACK!*

 

...at the body of King, which is rapidly turning red at the repeated shots with the belt to the body. Satisfied with himself, Blank tosses the belt to the side, nodding proudly as King's crawling in a very weak way to the nearest ropes, trying to use them to climb up to his feet once more.

 

"Look at Blank, he's like a wild animal hunting weakened prey!" S. King says. "It's only a matter of time, as Blank could just walk out of that cage at any moment that he wants. But he wants to inflict as much punishment as possible on the former ICTV Champ!"

 

"I'm surprised that Max King is still moving at the moment, as his back has just been brutalized throughout this match!" Pete notes. "But that shows you that he's willing to do whatever it takes to win this match!"

 

Blank gets into a stance, waiting for just the right moment to strike, and when King is fully up to a vertical position, charges in to give him a boot right into the back!

 

Unfortunately for him, King manages to realize that it's coming, and he just steps to the left as Blank's foot just goes right between one of the squares of the cage!

 

"WHAT THE...!?"

 

"Brilliant, if desperate, move by Max King right there!" Pete calls. "He realized Bruce was coming in to attack, and he stepped aside to cause this situation, and now Blank is at his mercy!"

 

Blank struggles to get out of the position that he's in, but King doesn't let him, as King dropkicks the big guy right into the back of his free leg, causing him to fall back and hang from the side of the cage. The crowd roars in approval at the sight they're seeing, and some even start chanting "CHAIR" over and over at the top of their lungs.

 

"The fans want King to use that chair once again on the body of Blank, and I think King hears them!"

 

"How can you NOT hear them, Pete? They're shouting louder than my mother in law whenever she comes over to visit!"

 

King nods in agreement with the crowd, as he reaches over to the chair that Kelly tossed in earlier. Blank continues to struggle to get free from the position that he's in, but it's too late for him to get free as King charges in, and baseball slides the chair right into the King of the Trailer Park's face!

 

*CRACK!*

 

The crowd's roar of approval for King's actions gets even louder upon doing that, and Blank collapses off of the cage wall, obviously out of it from that shot by King. The camera rushes over to the side of the cage where Blank is, and zooms in to see that now BRUCE is busted open!

 

"Turnabout is fair play for King!" Pete calls. "But King doesn't care about the blood, he cares about the win! He's going for the escape again!"

 

"NO! Come on Blank, get up! Your shot at being a double champ is on the line here!" S. King calls.

 

"You know he can't hear you! Max King to the cage wall, and he's climbing up! This match is over, Suicide! Max King is going to get the victory here, and a very hard fought one at that!"

 

The crowd is repeatedly chanting "MAX KING!" over and over as he makes his ascent to the top, ready to get the victory. The chants get louder and louder as he climbs, and almost blow the roof of the arena off as he touches the rim to get that final pull over the top.

 

Then, they turn into disappointed, "ohhhs" as Blank stumbles over, and clocks King right into the family jewels, sending "The Icon" down to the mat once more.

 

"What were you saying about turnabout being fair play, Pete?" S. King says with a chuckle. "I knew that Blank wasn't going to go down that easily! He's too good of a competitor to do that!"

 

Blank isn't fully conscious at the moment though, apparent that the shot with the chair earlier still had an effect on him. However, he nods proudly and confidently at the fact that he's still standing, and looks at King is still down on the mat. He nods, and makes a throat cutting gesture, telling the crowd in his own way that this is over now.

 

"Bruce Blank is going for the kill, Pete!" S. King calls. "I don't know what move he's going to do, but this is going to be it for "The Icon!"

 

"Well, whatever he goes for, I don't know if King can fight out of it! Blank grabbing King by the hair...and into a headlock! This is gonna be bad..."

 

The crowd boos at the top of their lungs as Blank spits out to the crowd...literally spits out, as a matter of fact...before lifting King up for a suplex.

 

"Here it comes, Pete! It's time for the Blank Bomb! It's gonna be over!"

 

Pete holds King up for a great time, tauntingly so, before going to adjust to drop King with his sit-out powerbomb. However, before he can adjust completely, King manages to slip behind Blank, and grabs his head!

 

"NO!"

 

"King hooking in a Dragon Sleeper on the way down, and that could be the set up for..."

 

King lifts Blank up, and drops him down HARD!

 

"KING BUSTER!" Pete calls. "Max King hits the King Buster out of NOWHERE onto Blank as he slipped out of the Blank Bomb! And I think that Bruce Blank is out cold!"

 

"But can Max King follow up by escaping the cage? I don't think that he's got the energy to get out of the ring!"

 

Max King falls back to the side of the cage, and is lying on the ring ropes, breathing heavily at the heavy lifting that he just did. Kelly, on the outside of the ring, rushes over to his side, leaning to the cage with her chest. King looks over, smiles, and reaches down her top.

 

"Wait a second, what is going on here?" S. King wonders.

 

"Well, I'm glad that this isn't Lockdown..." Pete says...as King pulls out a pair of handcuffs. The crowd ERUPTS into cheers, as King dives over to Blank, who is clawing to the ropes, and slaps a cuff onto his wrist.

 

"NO!" S. King calls. "Not this!"

 

Max King grins, and quickly cuffs Blank's wrist to the ring rope, trapping him in the ring.

 

"King has neutralized Blank, and uses him as a stepping stone to climb out of the ring! Brilliant move by Max King!"

 

"Stop the match! This isn't right!" S. King protest as King continues to make his climb.

 

"It may not be right, but it's going to happen anyway!" Pete says. "King over the top, Blank fighting to get free, but there's nothing he can do!"

 

The crowd erupts into cheers at King about to win, and "The Icon" lets go, dropping down to the arena floor!

 

"DAMNIT!" S. King calls as Max King's feet hit the floor!

 

"Superstar" starts to play over the speaker, as Kelly rushes over to her man after tossing the key to the cuffs into the ring. The referee, inside the ring now, goes to un-cuff Blank from the ropes.

 

Funyon: Here is your winner, and the Number One contender for the SWF Tag Team Championship, "THE ICON"...MAX...KING!

 

"Max King using Blank's tactics against him in this match, and because of it he's gotten the...wait a second, Kelly getting a mic!"

 

"Great, now he's probably going to gloat about his victory in Blank's face."

 

King holds up the mic to his face as he uses the ring for balance, taking a few breaths to recover, and looks around as his music dies down. "You know, I bet everyone in the arena is wondering...now that I've won, who will my partner be? Well, first I'd like everyone to know that I'm going to take my shot at the belts until January 2006. But as for my partner, there's only one person that I can think of to team with me. Someone who I thinks deserves me...that's none other than..." he pauses, grinning wildly. "LANDON MADDIX!"

 

"WHAT!?" both S. King and Pete shout at the same time, and there's a similar reaction coming out from the crowd at the same time. Max King just smiles as "Superstar" starts playing up again, Kelly going over to help him to the back as he celebrates.

 

"Max King has won the match, but he's chosen Landon Maddix as his partner? Why would he do something like that? What's going on in his mind?" S. King wonders out loud. "What the hell is going on?"

 

"Unfortunately, we'll have to wait to find out the answer! We're out of time, see you people soon!"

 

FADE OUT!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

=====

SWF Lockdown

© 2005 – Rule of Law Productions

The SWF: “Raising Workrate by Typing Faster”

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