SWF Smarkdown Losing Matches

[devo 0]

Admittedly, not my best work. I had a hard time condensing this to 5500 words.

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

It’s another one of them old funky Cypress Hill things...

You know what I’m sayin’?

 

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOMM*

 

“RAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

 

As Smarkdown comes back from commercial, the viewer at home is greeted to the jarring yet energizing sight of a wall of blue and white pyrotechnics exploding upwards from the stage, doing so as Cypress Hill’s “How I Could Just Kill A Man” hits the speakers and the crowd roars its approval. A moment later, Stryke strides through the smoke and sparks caused by the pyro, quickly making his way down the ramp, slapping the hands of ravenous fans that surround him on all sides as he does so.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a Fatal Fourway match scheduled for one fall!” Funyon boldly announces. “Introducing first, from Sydney, Australia, weighing in at two hundred and thirty pounds...SSSSSSSSTRRRRRRRRYYYYYYKEEE!!”

 

Stryke reaches the ring and climbs onto its apron, where he slowly turns and looks out over the teeming, roaring mass of humanity. He grins to himself before climbing into the ring and beginning a simple stretching routine, doing so as his music fades out and the crowd’s enthusiasm slowly dies down.

 

“And welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, folks!” Pete enthusiastically greets the home audience. “Coming up next is a contest that could have a serious impact on the SWF’s upcoming Pay-Per-View, as the winner of this Fourway gets to choose the stipulation of the match they’ll take part in at said Pay-Per-View!”

 

“There is untold potential in this match for that reason alone.” King gleefully adds. “Just imagine what sick, depraved, monstrously entertaining stipulations Magnifico, TORU, and Jay have in mind for their unfortunate opponents.”

 

“What about Stryke?” LDP earnestly asks.

 

“Damned if I know.” King scoffs. “Maybe he’ll do his Australian heritage proud and decide to have a Drunken Kangaroo Boxing match at the Pay-Per-View.”

 

Mere moments after Stryke’s entrance is over, the lights are suddenly and swiftly cut out throughout the arena. Most of the audience already knows what’s going on, and immediately begin to boo...

 

“HEY HEY!”

 

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOMM!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

...doing so as Atake FDD’s “Tu Final” hits the speakers and a burst of red, white, and green pyro shoots upwards from the stage. El Luchadore Magnifico bursts through the pyro-induced smoke, illuminated by a single spotlight. The World Title wrapped around his waist and his Mexican Flag flapping gracefully behind him, Magnifico swiftly heads towards the ring, paying no mind to the tens of thousand of people booing his every move.

 

“And now, from Mexico City, Mexico, weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds...” Funyon begins. “He is the SWF World Heavyweight Champion...EL LUCHADOOOOOOOOOOORRE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

Magnifico reaches the ring and slides beneath its bottom rope, then pops to his feet within the confines of the squared circle. ELM completely ignores Stryke and steps into the center of the ring, where he looks out over the audience with palpable disgust. Suddenly, he thrusts his flag high into the air, doing so as the lights are turned back on throughout the arena. The suddenly-illuminated crowd redoubles their booing efforts as an amused smirk comes over the luchadore’s face.

 

“Man, just imagine the hell Magnifico could put Todd Cortez through should he win this match.” King cheerfully speculates. “Ooo! Ooo! What if he picks a Ladder Match? ELM’s never lost one of those, y’know.”

 

“I’m well aware of that.” Pete mumbles, not at all intersted in the conversation. “In any case, three other people have the same ambitions as him; his focus right should be on defeating them, not Cortez.”

 

ELM hands his Mexican Flag and World Title to the ref, and as he’s doing so, Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly” hits the speakers, only to immediately be drowned out by the booing of seventy-five hundred annoyed Ohioans. The lights dim a second later, leaving the arena dark as Funyon’s husky baritone rumbles over the arena’s speakers.

 

“And now, from the Hall of Fame City of Cleveland, Ohio, weighing in at two hundred and fifteen pounds...” Funyon begins, “He is the Dean of Professional Wrestling, and the SWF International Champion...JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAAAAWWWWWWWWWWKE!”

 

Hawke finally steps out from the back, a single spotlight shining on him as he casually makes his way down to the ring. Jay pointedly ignores the spirited booing of the live audience, climbing onto the apron as though he were the only one in the building. He leisurely takes off his robe, folds it, and hands it to a nearby ring attendant. Under the watchful eye of both Magnifico and Stryke, Jay climbs into the ring, steps onto the second turnbuckle of the nearby corner, and throws his arms in the air. Another wave of boos pours in from the audience as the lights are turned back on once again, giving everyone a good view of this match’s first three competitors.

 

“Hell, imagine the torture Hawke could inflict on his unlucky adversary.” King wonders aloud. “Ultimate Submission...that’d be right up his alley. He could spend thirty minutes just tearing apart the neck of some poor jobber. Man that’d be fun to watch.”

 

Jay begins a light stretching regimen, having not yet even glanced at either Stryke or Magnifico. Well aware of who the last competitor is, the fans are already booing in anticipation when Therapy’s “Teethgrinder” hits the speakers. The music only encourages the live audience, who roar their disapproval as TORU, Tag Title wrapped around hsi waist, strides out onto the entrance ramp, flanked by Chris Card and Natasha. Not pausing for a moment, the malevolent trio quickly make their way down the ring, their faces cold and expressionless.

 

“And now, from Saitama Prefecture, Japan, weighing in at two hundred and sixty-four pounds...” Funyon announces. “Accompanied by Chris Card and Natasha...he is one half of the SWF Tag Team Champions...TOOOORRRRRRRUUUUU TAAAAAKAAAAAHAAAARRRAAAA!!”

 

Team Malcontent reaches the ring, Card and Natasha staying on the floor while TORU climbs up onto the apron. Keeping his head down, Takahara strips off his trenchcoat and hands it to Natasha, before doing the same with his sunglasses. He then looks up, locking eyes with every other particpant in the upcoming contest. Each one gladly returns the glare and stare coldly at TORU as he climbs into the ring.

 

“Well, it’s not like TORU will need any help in whatever match he should have at the Pay-Per-View.” King casually declares. “He and KOJI are completely of the division as it is. Still, it might be nice, and appropriate, I might add, to have the Tag Team Title on the line in a good ol’ fashioned Japanese Death Match.”

 

“Yeah, because that’d really endear us to our sponsors.” Pete mutters.

 

Once TORU’s in the ring, he retires to the only empty corner, as the other three have been filled by the match’s other three participants. Wondering who he pissed off to land this headache of a match, the referee looks over the four competitors, making sure each of them is ready to go. Sighing to himself, he signals for the bell, figuring he might as well just get this over with.

 

DING DING DING

 

The bell’s chimes resonate throughout the arena, and are complimented nicely by the anticipatory cheers that rise from the stands a moment later. However, their enthusiasm gradually wanes, as none of the match’s competitors have moved a muscle since the bell rang. What they are doing is staring each other doing, each man waiting for someone else to leave the ring.

 

“...maybe we should have flipped a coin backstage or something.” Pete speculates, somewhat embarrassed.

 

Eventually, the crowd grows impatient, and begins to outright boo the supreme stubborness displayed before them. Annoyed, Magnifico turns to curse at a particularly rude fan in the front row, jawing with the belligerent drunk for a few seconds before turning his attention back to his opponents. ELM turns around just in time to see Stryke dashing across the ring, charging towards the luchadore at a terrifying speed! Before he has a chance to counter, Stryke drives his head directly into ELM’s gut, slamming Magnifico backwards and into the corner behind him with a surprise Spear! The crowd roars its approval as Stryke begins to hammer away at the stunned luchadore, delivering quick punches and elbow strikes to the luchadore’s chin. TORU and Hawke look at each other, shrug their shoulders, and climb out to the apron as Stryke vigorously pummels the hapless luchadore.

 

“Well, that works too.” Pete comments, grinning from ear to ear.

 

“Says you!” King snaps, annoyed. “Magnifico takes the time to have an honest, open dialogue with one of our fans, and that conniving Australian goes and blindsides him with a downright dastardly attack. Simply mortifying.”

 

Eventually, Stryke lets up on his attack, only to immediately grab Magnifico by the arm and whip him across the ring. ELM rushes towards the opposite corner with Stryke striding only a couple steps behind him. When Magnifico reaches said corner, he grabs the top ropes with both hands and jumps into the air, throwing his legs backwards and onto Stryke’s shoulders as he does so! But before Magnifico can do whatever he had planned, Stryke grabs the legs and throws them off of his shoulders and over the top rope! ELM manages to pull himself onto the apron, where he’s immediately forced to block a quick elbow from Stryke! Magnifico fires back with a stiff shot to Stryke’s jaw, causing the Australian to turn and stumble away from the apron. Gripping the top rope with both hands, ELM leans back on the apron, anxiously waiting for Stryke to turn back towards him. When Stryke finally turns back around, Magnifico pulls himself onto the top rope, springs off of it, and flies towards Stryke, extending his arm in mid-air for a Springboard Lariat! But as ELM approaches, Stryke suddenly leaps into the air and lashes out with his foot, displaying remarkable accuracy and timing by slamming the tip of his boot into the side of Magnifico’s head! The impressed fans gleefully cheer as ELM crashes to the canvas, having been shot out of the sky by Stryke’s Jumping Enziguiri. Stryke immediately scrambles onto ELM and covers him, hooking the luchadore’s leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting...

 

ONE!

 

TWO! No! Magnifico kicks out at two and half, immediately silencing much of the live audience. Undeterred, Stryke rolls off of ELM, grabs him by the arm, and stands up, pulling the luchadore to his feet as he does so.

 

“Remarkable move from Stryke, as he counters Magnifico’s Springboard Lariat with an expertly-timed Jumping Enziguri!” LDP excitedly reports.

 

“Yes, come see the SWF, featuring the one and only STRYKE!” King suddenly cries. “Watch in awe as he jumps into the air and kicks, displaying the kind of sheer athletic ability only seen in Elementary School gymnastic exhibitions!”

 

Once he’s standing, Stryke uses his grip to whip Magnifico across the ring, sending him rushing towards the far ropes. ELM bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards Stryke, who greets the luchadore by leaping into the air and extending his legs, looking to wrap them around Magnifico’s head for a Hurricanrana. However, Magnifico manages to duck beneath the legs, skidding to a halt a few feet behind Stryke as the Aussie lands on his feet. Stryke spins around to face the luchadore, doing so just in time to see Magnifico sidestep towards him and throw his foot in the air, aiming it at Stryke’s jaw with a Superkick! However, Stryke manages to throw his hands up just in time, catching ELM’s foot right in front of his face! Magnifico has just enough time to shout a particularly nasty curse at Stryke before the Aussie throws the foot to one side, spinning ELM around on the mat! Before Magnifico can complete a full rotation, Stryke suddenly lunges forward and wraps his arms around ELM’s neck, locking him into a Sleeper Hold! Magnifico immediately begins to struggle and flail his arms wildly, greatly annoying Stryke in the process. He’s just about ready to drive ELM’s neck into the canvas with a Sleeper Drop when he sees TORU, feet on the second rope and leaning way into the ring, slap Magnifico’s hand as he uncontrollably thrashes around. Stryke pauses for a moment, shrugs to himself...and then suddenly falls onto his stomach, pulling ELM down with him and slamming his neck into the canvas with a Sleeper Drop! The fans roar their approval as Stryke immediately pops back to his feet, having not forgotten about TORU. However, TORU simply climbs into the ring, grinning at Stryke as he does so. Stryke can’t help but return the grin, keeping his eyes locked on TORU as the two men begin to circle each other around the ring.

 

“Does the unsportsmanlike conduct never end?!” King shouts, aghast. “How DARE Stryke perform the Sleeper Drop on Magnifico when he was no longer the legal man?”

 

“Well, it’s technically not against the rules to do so.” An obviously-pleased LDP answers, as he watches Magnifico roll out of the ring and drunkenly step onto the floor. “Besides, the more damage he does to ELM now, the less of a threat he’ll be should he get back into the match.”

 

Stryke and TORU slowly get closer to the center of the ring and each other, doing so as Card smacks the apron and gruffly shouts a few words of encouragement Takahara’s way. Eventually, both men simultaneously lunge towards one another, locking up in the center of the ring. TORU easily gains control, pulling Stryke into a Side Headlock. Stryke immediately begins to slam his elbow into TORU’s gut, trying to weaken his hold enough to escape it. After a few moments, he does just that and makes a break for the ropes...only for Takahara to shoot his hand out and grab Stryke by his hair before he can get anywhere! Before Stryke can wriggle out of his grip, TORU swiftly drives his knee forward, slamming it into the small of the Australian’s back! Stryke cries out and arches his back in pain, allowing Takahara to fairly easily grab him arm and legs and lift him into the air, parallel to the mat. Just as soon as he’s lifted, he’s pulled downwards, as TORU drives Stryke’s back right into his extended knee! The crowd “OHHHH!”s in sympathy as Stryke crumples to the mat after the Backbreaker, pain surging through his entire body. TORU casually falls to his knees and covers Stryke, hooking his leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting...

 

ONE!

 

TWO! No! Stryke kicks out at two and a half, wincing in pain as he does so.

 

“TORU gets off to an impressive start, as he deals a quick set of succesive blows to Stryke’s back.” Pete reports. “He’s made it even more difficult for Stryke to overcome Takahara’s frankly-overwhelming strength and agility.”

 

“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.” King scoffs. “The sooner TORU snaps Stryke’s back in half, the quicker this match can come down to its three real particpants.”

 

TORU rolls off of Stryke and quickly gets to his feet, leaving Stryke lying face-up on the mat. Displaying the less-endearing side of his personality, Takahara suddenly drives his boot into Stryke’s kidney, knocking him onto his stomach as the hapless Aussie twists his face and grimaces in pain. While annoyed boos pour in from every part of the arena, TORU mercilessly stomps away at Stryke’s lower back, a devious grin slowly creeping further across his face with each kick. After landing about ten stomps, TORU decides to really endear himself to the crowd by grabbing Stryke’s hair, lifting his head up, and scraping the sole of his boot across the Aussie’s forehead. TORU deservedly receives thunderous boos for his actions, the crowd’s shouting and jeering easily drowning out Card and Natasha’s applauding and words of encouragement. Meanwhile, Stryke, a hand over his face, rolls away from TORU and tries to climb back to his feet. Takahara’s not having any of that, however, as he grabs Stryke by the hair, painfully pulls him to his feet, and then drags him over to the nearest unoccupied corner. TORU unceremoniously drive’s Stryke forehead squarely into the top turnbuckle of said corner, allowing the thunderstuck cruiserweight to collapse back-first into it. TORU grabs Stryke by the shoulders and begins to simply slam his knee into his gut, repeatedly driving it into Stryke’s stomach and gradually knocking all the wind out of his body.

 

“The situation is getting worse for Stryke by the second.” Pete grimly assesses. “TORU is simply beating the hell out of him, severely weakening Stryke and sapping away his will to resist.”

 

“I’ll admit that it’s somewhat cruel of our favorite evil Japanese tag team wrestler.” King shrugs. “But damn if it isn’t entertaining.”

 

The crowd’s been angrily booing this entire time, failing to quiet down even when TORU finally lets up on the knee strikes. With Stryke barely able to breathe, TORU grabs him by the arm, pulls him out of the corner, and whips him across the ring, towards the far ropes. Stryke bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards Takahara, who lashes out with his arm, aiming it directly at Stryke’s neck with a Lariat! However, Stryke manages to duck beneath Takahara’s arm, skidding to a halt right behind him. TORU spins around to face Stryke, doing so just in time to see him leap into the air and kick his feet out, slamming them into Takahara’s chest with a Flipping Dropkick! TORU is knocked backwards by the force of the kick, falling into the ropes behind him as Stryke quickly scrambles back to his feet. The second he’s standing, Stryke sprints towards TORU and leaps into the air, extending his arms and legs as he does so for a Flying Cross-Body! Stryke makes perfect contact with the aerial maneuver, crashing his entire body into TORU’s chest and knocking him to the outside with it! However, Stryke’s momentum carries him to the outside as well, as he tumbles over the top rope and falls to the floor a split-second after TORU! Both men lie on the floor just a few feet from each other, writhing in pain as the crowd pops for the unexpected turn of events.

 

“Amazing set of moves from Stryke, as he catches TORU off guard with a Flipping Dropkick right before knocking him to the outside with a picture-perfect Flying Cross-Body!” LDP excitedly reports.

 

“Yeah, if only he was intelligent enough to not fall to the outside as well, that little burst of offense might actually have been worth something.” King helpfully adds.

 

Neither man moves for a few moments, spurring the referee within in the ring to begin his count.

 

ONE!

 

Immediately after doing so, the ref sees Chris Card coming up behind TORU. Card grabs his client and begins to help him to his feet, causing the ref to quickly roll to the outside and fend Chris off. The malicious manager leaves TORU leaning against the apron and spiritedly argues with the ref, distracting the official from a more serious breach of the rules. More specifically, Natasha creeping up behind Stryke, who’s begun to rise to his feet while being completely unaware of the imminent danger. When he gets to his feet, Natasha drops to her knees behind him and shoots her arm between his legs, slamming it into his groin with a paricularly vicious Low Blow! As the male contingent of the live audience winces, Stryke grabs his crotch and falls to one knee, completely overwhelmed by the pain. Seeing that Natasha completed her mission admirably, Card stops arguing with the ref, gives TORU an encouraging slap on the shoulder, and casually walks away from the scene. Having seen the same thing Card saw, a grinning TORU pushes himself off of the apron and heads over to Stryke, doing so as the angered fans furiously boo everyone involved in the act.

 

“Such a heartwarming display of teamwork!” King cries. “Doesn’t it just make you feel good to see people working together towards a common goal?”

 

“Usually, yes.” LDP conceds. “But not when said goal is the crushing of another man’s testicles.”

 

TORU steps in front of Stryke and grabs him by the hair, right before blasting him in the face with a cringe-inducing knee strike. Stryke is knocked straight up and backwards, falling against the steel pole behind him. It just happens to be the pole of the corner that Hawke occupies, and Jay looks on as Takahara then grabs Stryke around the waist and lifts him into the air, as if for a Spinebuster. However, TORU instead takes a couple steps backwards, putting some space between him and the pole...before suddenly charging forward, holding Stryke’s body in front of him! Takahara drives Stryke’s body directly into the pole, causing Stryke to throw his head back and shout out in pain and frustration as the crowd sympathetically “OHHHH!”s as one. Smiling at the reaction of his opponent and the audience, TORU drops Stryke on the apron and rolls the stunned superstar into the ring, right before rolling in himself. Takahara climbs to his feet inside the ring...and is immediately slapped on the shoulder by Jay Hawke! A shocked TORU spins around to see Jay quickly climbing into the ring, and just as quickly covering Stryke! The ref slides into position and begins counting, but doesn’t even get to slap the mat once, as TORU immediately stomps on Hawke’s back to break up the cover! The ref immediately gets in TORU’s face and insists that he exit the ring, while Hawke, having expected Takahara’s interference, simply climbs to his feet, grabs Stryke by the hair, and drags him towards the center of the ring. With the ref stubbornly refusing to get out of his way, TORU has little choice but to exit the ring, silently cursing out Jay’s “no tagbacks” policy as he does so.

 

“Hawke finally gets into the match, but it seemed to be at TORU’s expense.” Jay observes. “In a brief moment of inattention, Jay tagged TORU and got himself into the contest, perhaps wanting to take advantage of the damagae Takahara had incurred on Stryke.”

 

“That’s exactly what he wanted to do, Longdogger.” King boldly confirms. “Admittedly, the back is not the section of the body Jay prefers to focus on, but he’s flexible.”

 

Still holding Stryke by the hair, Jay pulls the beleaguered Aussie to his feet, right before lashing out with his arm and slicing it into Stryke’s chest with a Knife-Edge Chop!

 

*SMAAAACK*

 

“WHOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

The fans gleefully “whoo” despite themselves as Stryke stumbles backwards and falls into the ropes behind him. Taking his sweet time, Jay strides up to Stryke, pulls his arm back once more, and...

 

CHOP!

 

*SMAAAAAACK*

 

“WHOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

Stryke grips his chest and gasps out a breathless cry of pain, right before Jay grabs him by the arm, pulls him off of the ropes, and whips him across the ring, sending Stryke rushing towards the far ropes. Stryke bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards Jay, who steps forward and grabs Stryke by the arm and leg, right before swiftly and effortlessly lifting him into the air! Hawke spins Stryke’s body around in mid-air before dropping him down and extending his knee, slamming Stryke’s back over it with a Tilt-a-Whirl Backbreaker! Stryke simply rolls off of Hawke’s knee and falls onto the canvas, his entire body arched in pain. Thundering boos rain in from every part of the arena as Jay falls to the mat and covers Stryke, hooking his leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

TH-No! Stryke kicks out right before the three count, drawing a wave of hopeful cheers from the concerned crowd.

 

“Stryke eats another Backbreaker, this time Tilt-a-Whirl style.” LDP reports. “He’s really gotten the worst of it in this match; he’s been in it since the bell rang without a break, whereas every other competitor has had an extended break from the action.”

 

“Hey, that’s the price Stryke pays for playing with the big boys.” King rationalizes. “It’s cute to see him try and beat three of the best the SWF has to offer, but now it’s time for him to pick one to lay down for.”

 

Undeterred by the lack of a pinfall, Hawke rolls off of Stryke, grabs him by the hair, and stands, pulling Stryke to his feet as he does so. Once they’re both on their feet, Jay pulls Stryke into an Inverted Facelock and begins to wrench away at his neck, locking Stryke into a Dragon Sleeper in the middle of the ring! As the boos pour in, Stryke begins to flail his arms around wildly, landing numerous yet weak blows all over Hawke’s body. Annoyed by Stryke’s resistance, Jay suddenly drives his knee upwards and into the small of Stryke’s back, immediately killing the Aussie’s spirited struggling. A few moments later, Stryke goes limp beneath him, being held up simply by Hawke’s vice-like grip on his neck. Jay shouts at the ref to do his job, and the ref begrudgingly does just that, as he grabs Stryke’s arm and pulls it into the air. A moment later, he lets it go, and it simply falls, hanging lifelessly against his body. The ref shoots a finger into the air and lifts Stryke’s arm once more, doing so as the crowd begins to cheer and rally behind the awe-struck Aussie. The ref releases his arm...and it falls once more, causing a triumphant grin to come across Jay’s face.

 

“Stryke looks to have been completely knocked out by the Dragon Sleeper!” Pete cries, distraught. “If he doesn’t raise his arm on the third and final try, Hawke will be awarded the victory!”

 

“An appropriate ending for this contest, I think.” King contends. “Seeing him lying on the mat, helpless and completely unconscious, will be greatly satisfying, I think.”

 

The referee grabs Stryke’s arm once more and slowly, dramatically lifts it into the air. As a jubilant Hawke looks on and seventy-five hundred people shout at Stryke to snap out of it, the referee drops Stryke’s arm for a third time. It falls as lifelessly as the last two times...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...before suddenly thrusting into the air, the hand shaking and the fingers wriggling energetically!

 

“RAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

 

A massive cheer rises from the rejoicing crowd as a pissed off Hawke looks down on Stryke with unbridled scorn and frustration. Stryke begins to desperately fight his way out of the hold...when Jay suddenly pulls Stryke’s body downwards, driving the back of his neck into Hawke’s outstretched knee!

 

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

 

The crowd’s reaction immediately changes to one of disappointment as Stryke crumples to the canvas, his body completely stoic and lifeless. Vindicated somewhat, Hawke drops to his knees with a big smile on his face and covers his stunned opponent. As distraught boos pour in from ever part of the arena, the ref slides into position and begins counting...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHRRRRNNNNNNOOOOO!! Stryke gets a shoulder up right before the three count, drawing a wave of relieved cheers from the capacity crowd. Furious, Hawke pushes himself off of the ref and begins to argue with the referee, who maintains his position of Stryke having kicked out just now.

 

“No! No!” LDP shouts. “Hawke had taken Stryke down with a vicious Reverse DDT to the knee, but Stryke just managed to escape the pinfall!”

 

“Okay, now Stryke’s getting on my nerves.” King grumbles. “It was known from the beginning that he wasn’t going to win this match, yet he continues to act like he had a chance at doing just that. How embarassing.”

 

Having had enough of the referee’s idiocy, Hawke pulls himself to his feet and looks for the nearest unoccupied corner. Had he been paying attention to details, he would have noticed that there are three unoccupied corners, one more than there should be. As it is, though, he simply heads towards the closest one and begins to climb it, the crowd’s booing growing louder the higher he climbs. He reaches the top turnbuckle, turns towards Stryke, and stands up, ready to finish the Aussie off once and for all. Panicked by what Hawke might have planned, TORU runs across the apron and at Jay, grabbing him by the leg before he can leap off of the turnbuckle. Chris Card and Natasha rush after him, standing behind TORU as he struggles to yank Jay off of the turnbuckle! Hawke’s stubborn, though, and attempts to kick TORU away as Card and Natasha cheer Takahara on. As he struggles, TORU catches a bit of movement out of the corner of his eye, but ignores it in favor of concentrating on the task at hand. Unfortunately, that bit of movement happens to be Stryke climbing to his feet. He catches sight of what’s happening...and immediately sidesteps towards TORU, throwing his foot forward as he does so and slamming it right into the side of Takahara’s face! A mighty cheer is raised from the crowd as TORU flies backwards off of the apron and into Card and Natasha! The trio tumbles to the ground in a ball of flailing limbs as the delighted crowd grows louder than they’re been all night.

 

“Oh my, how unfortunate.” Pete unconvincingly emotes. “The entire team of cheaters was taken out in one fell swoop. What bad luck.”

 

“Sit there and smirk all you like, but this match isn’t over yet.” King snaps. “Stryke still has two other, much more talented wrestlers to fend off.”

 

Hawke immediately turns his attention to Stryke, doing so just in time to see him jump up and deliver a stiff blow to Jay’s chin. The blow knocks Jay back somewhat, causing Hawke to flail his arms wildly in an attempt to keep his balance and remain on the top turnbuckle. In the meantime, Stryke quickly ascends the turnbuckles, reaching the top rope as soon just as Hawke is regaining his balance. Before Jay can do anything with his new-found balance, Stryke delivers a quick European Uppercut under Hawke’s chin, which threatens to knock him off the top once more. Before Jay can fall, though, Stryke grabs him by the arm and legs, lifts him into the air, and holds Hawke against his body as if for a Fallaway Slam! A roaring pop rises from the crowd as Stryke leans forward...before leaping backwards and off of the top turnbuckle with Hawke in tow! As Stryke is flipping backwards Magnifico suddenly pops onto the apron and slaps Stryke on the leg in mid-air! Stryke executes the Overdrive perfectly, slamming Hawke into the mat with untold force and landing right across his stomach!

 

“Overdrive! Overdrive! Oh my God!” Pete cries, disbelieving. “Stryke hits his signature Moonsault Fallaway Slam and looks to be ready to win this match!”

 

The exhausted Stryke soaks lays motionless on Hawke, soaking in the adoration of the crowd and the glory of the moment...but is snapped back to reality when he realizes that the ref hasn’t started a count! Stryke looks up and at the referee, who simply points in the other direction. Knowing that he’s not going to like what he sees, Stryke looks in the other direction...to see ELM smiling down at him. Before Stryke can even react, Magnifico suddenly drives the tip of his boot into Stryke’s nose, knocking him off of Jay with an unforgiving kick to the face! An unbelievable amount of heat pours in from the audience as the smirking luchadore takes up the spot recently occupied by Stryke, hooking his leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEE!!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

DING DING DING

 

“Your winner, by pinfall...” Funyon dutifully announces, “EL LUCHADOOOOOOOOOORRE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

The triumphant luchadore climbs off of Jay and to his feet, allowing the ref to raise one of his arms. An infuriating grin on his face, ELM looks out over the booing audience, absolutely loving the reaction he’s getting.

 

“What the hell just happened?!” Pete cries, as confused and annoyed as the live audience.

 

“When Magnifico saw Hawke looking for an unoccupied corner, he quickly hid beneath the apron, realizing that he was occupying the one closest to Jay at the time.” King cheerfully explains. “He was probably planning to tag Jay in mid-air instead of Stryke, but it works out much better this way, because it’s Stryke who ends up being humiliated. Magnifico tagged Stryke while he was executing the Overdrive, thus making him the legal man and the only one who could benefit from the move.”

 

“That’s the most cowardly, underhanded thing I’ve heard in years.” Pete spits.

 

“I know! Wasn’t it great?” King gushes.

 

LDP sighs. “Don’t let your disappoint in this match overcome you, gentle viewers. We still have a hell of a main event for you, in which Max King will take on Bruce Blank in a Steel Cage Match! Stay tuned!”

[Bruce Blank 0]

Well it WAS a major rush job (Damn you work!) and well on the bright side I don't have to figure out where the heck to get a tag-team partner

 

so it's certainly a result I can live with good stuff Maxie

 

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Smarkdown returns from it’s final commercial break with promises of an uninterrupted blood bath in the main event as we see the ring crew putting the finishing touches on erecting the solid steel cage around the ring.

 

“Ah the mighty steel cage” Pete begins in his best, booming “NFL Films” voice “The Blue Bars of Doomis an unforgivable mistress. What will happen when two titans clash within the confines of these steel walls?”

 

“Erm Pete??”

 

“Who will survive as the metallic trap springs shut and encases two combatants who have but one option – to fight”

 

“Pete – have you been in my tequila again?” King asks as Pete sits there with a straight face and rattles off one steel cage cliché after another.

 

But before Pete can respond the lights in the arena are turned off, as they often tend to be for someone’s ring entrance – after approximately 5 point 27 seconds (rough estimate) Max King’s familiar voice informs us all that

 

THE KING... HAS... RETURNED!

 

“I didn’t even know I had left?” The Suicide King quips as his Saliva’s Superstar kicks in

 

*FWOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!* *FWOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!* *FWOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!*

 

”Now has come the day that I take the lead and I make you follow.

Toast the champagne cause I came for greed and not for tomorrow.”

 

*FWOOOSSSH!!* *FWOOOSSSH!!* *FWOOOSSSH!!*

 

A brilliant gold fireworks display brings the crowd to their feet as “the Icon” Max King steps into the spotlight with a confident smile. The generally positive reaction Max is getting increases the moment Kelly steps into the spolight next to her man looking gorgeous as always.

 

”If it feels good then it feels good and I do it all day.

You want me to play you best bring your brain,

you best bring your money. ”

 

Max quickly heads down the ramp looking at the 15 foot tall blue steel cage he is about to climb into. For a moment he stops and looks at the camera, then he shrugs and says “Sometimes it’s not easy being me” knowing that he’s got quite a war ahead of himself tonight.

 

”Yay!

Make me a superstar. Yay!

No matter who you are. ”

 

“The following match is a cage match and the winner will be deemed the number one contender for the tag-team titles with the option to pick his own partner!” Funyon bellows out to overpower Saliva. “Introducing first from Philadelphia Pennsylvania, weighting in at a trim 250 pounds –“The Icon”!! MAX… KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNGGGG!”

 

Kelly and Max stop by the steps to the ring and Max gives his main woman a long deep kiss that makes 90% of the guys jealous (although out of those guys 15% are jealous that Kelly gets to kiss Max and not the other way around). Kelly swiftly removes Max’s royal blue vest and his high priced shades before the man known before “Wrestling’s Superman” walks up those 4 steps and enters the cage.

 

“Last Smarkdown Max King was actually on the same side as his opponent here tonight as they earned the right to a tag-team title shot” Pete explains, giving the fans at home just a little information on the upcoming match.

 

“Yeah but Maxie here had a problem with Bruce’s cheating and simply said he wasn’t teaming with him any more” King points.

 

“Maybe it was Bruce’s body odor?” Pete quips

 

“Or maybe Kelly got all hot for Bruce – does it matter? Either way we’re going to see a nice brutal Cage match tonight! I for one can’t wait” Suicide King says as Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Southern rock classic kicks in

 

WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!!

 

Funyon raises his voice once more to try and speak over the derogatory chants directed at Bruce Blank. “And his opponent, from the Dirty Tornado Trailerpark in Alabama, weighing in at 295 pounds. He is the reigning SWF ULTRAVIOLENT CHAMPION BRUCEEEEEEEEEE BLAAAAAAANK!!”

 

The hostility doesn’t seem to faze Bruce as he walks out, in fact he seems to be enjoying himself quite a bit tonight, maybe it’s the prospects of stepping into a steel cage, maybe it’s the golden opportunity he’s been given, maybe it’s his 5 pre-match beers kicking in – hard to tell.

 

”So, don't ask me no questions

And I won't tell you no lies

So, don't ask me about my business

And I won't tell you goodbye”

 

“It’s almost as if this song was written about Bruce” King ponders as he pays attention the lyrics for the first time.

 

Bruce has left the barbwire Ultraviolent title in the back, it’s not on the line tonight after all but the blood spattered jeans is an eerie reminder of the type of matches Bruce prefers. Once he’s down by the cage he grabs the middle section of it and begins to shake it back and forth to test it’s strength. Then he rounds the corner and stops on the ring steps to raises his hands in the air as he smiles.

 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say Bruce was looking forward to this match” Pete says as he watches Bruce climb the last 2 steps and then enter the ring.

 

“That’s a surprise to you?” King asks, surprised that Pete is surprised that a man who wears a “Too violent for Lockdown” T-Shirt is looking forward to a brutal match.

 

Max paces back and forth in his corner as the door is locked behind Bruce with a heavy chain used to ensure that no one can escape that way, the only way out now is over the 15 foot high steel walls. Even though the cage isn’t Max King’s preferred battle ground he still looks confident, borderline cocky about the entire match, after all he IS the superior wrestler in the cage and HE was the one that won their tag-team match.

 

“Alright don’t just stand there, hit each other!! Throw each other against the cage!!” the Suicide King implores Max and Bruce as they just stand there and talk trash to each other without either of them making any offensive moves.

 

“Maybe they decided to settle this with a Steel Cage Debate instead of a match?” Pete quips as the two men exchange heated words in the cage.

 

Finally Max says something that just pisses Bruce off to a degree where he lunges as the Icon to take him down and take him down hard. But Max King anticipated the move and like a highly skilled bullfighter he ducks under Bruce’s arms and then pushes Bruce in the back as the big man passes him by.

 

*KRESH!!*

 

The added momentum sends Bruce face first into the cage as Max had anticipated. The moment the big man staggers backwards after having his head and shoulder rammed into the cage Max attacks him again with a high knee to the back of the Ultraviolent champion

 

*KRESH!!*

 

Once again Bruce’s head and shoulder are rammed into the cage with force.

 

“Max is playing it smart Pete, he’s letting the cage do the dirty work for him” King says with a smug, superior “I figured his game plan out” voice.

 

“The Icon always was a thinking man’s wrestler, you know he’s got a plan in mind” Pete points out in response.

 

Bruce is naturally a bit dazed after having his head rammed into the steel bars twice in under a minute and is unable to escape a picture perfect flying elbow that Max lands as he leaps through the air and knocks Bruce down. The Icon quickly rolls with the momentum and up on his feet for a quick pose and a smile, he’s got the big man right where he wants him after all.

 

“I wouldn’t pose just yet if I was Max” Pete admonishes the Icon.

 

“Oh you’re such a wet blanket Brain Clogger! He’s got Bruce where he wants him, he’s entitled to strut his stuff” King replies annoyed at Pete’s buzzkilling tendencies.

 

Max knows he’s got the advantage, but he also knows that he can’t give Bruce an opening or he’ll end up a bloody pulp – it’s happened too many times to too many opponents already and Max knows it. With Bruce still down Max grabs the big man’s leg and stretches it, then he places his own foot on Bruce’s thigh and flips backwards hyper extending Bruce’s leg with a smooth Leg Snapper.

 

“If Bruce can’t stand up he can’t climb the cage! I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s Max’s plan” Pete says.

 

“Well Duh!” is the only response he gets from his co-commentator.

 

With the leg already hurting Max zeroes in on Bruce’s left leg and starts to work it over with a series of kicks before he drags the big man over to the ropes and then drapes Bruce’s leg over the bottom rope. Max puts a foot on the middle rope and uses it to give him some height for a stomp aimed right at Bruce’s knee, then a second one, followed by a third one before Max’s ego compels him to strike another quick pose.

 

“You can tell Max has thought this match through, a lot of people would just head straight for the cage and climb up only to be foiled in their first 50 attempts by a fresh opponent, but not Max” Pete says, very impressed with Max’s game plan.

 

“Well he better get to it soon, this is too much like a normal match for my likings.” King grumbles as he watches Max work over Bruce’s leg.

 

With Bruce on the canvas holding his knee in pain Max decides that it’s time to leave the cage and starts to climb up the cage wall to quite a positive reaction. At first Bruce isn’t even aware of Max climbing the cage and doesn’t spot him until the Icon is about half way up the cage and getting closer to the top each second.

 

“He could go all the way!!” Pete says excitedly

 

Bruce gets to his feet and hobbles across the ring just as Max puts his hand on the top bar on the cage and then begins to drag himself up to the top. Knowing that he’s not fast enough to climb up and grab Max Bruce decides to grab the side of the cage with both hands instead to shake it back and forth.

 

Bruce shakes it like the Warrior shakes a ring rope, moving the top part of the cage back and forth a good 3 feet as Max holds on for dear life. Then with one last mighty tug Bruce pulls the cage towards the center of the ring with enough force to dislodge Max King and send him flying off the cage, crashing uncoordinatedly against the canvas.

 

“WHAT POWER!!” King points out

 

“Maybe that’s why he tested the cage on the way in? To see how much it moves at the top” Pete surmises as he thinks back to the beginning of the match.

 

“I wouldn’t put it past him”

 

With Max down Bruce has a chance to shake some of the pain from his leg, get the blood flow back after the punishment Max inflicted. The Trailerpark Messiah notices that Max’s position leaves the Icon’s right arm and hand very vulnerable as it’s stretched out across the canvas. Bruce places one of his cowboy boots right on top of Max’s outstretched hand and then brings the other one down hard on Max’s bicep

 

“He could break someone’s arm with that type of kick” Pete says all indignant.

 

“No someone’s arm – Max’s arm” King points out as Bruce kicks the arm once more.

 

After the two kicks Bruce bends down and pulls the protective elbow pad off Max’s right arm and then tosses it out of the cage before stomping on Max’s arm once more, this time right on the elbow joint.

 

“Max isn’t the only one who can play it smart Pete! Not by a long shot”

 

“I wouldn’t usually put the words “Smart” and “Bruce Blank” together in a sentence, but I got to admit it he’s going about this the right way” Pete reluctantly admits.

 

Bruce follows up his game plan by dragging Max over to the cage and then pull Max’s unprotected right arm through the cage before using the steel bar to help him arm bar Max’s arm.

 

“THE ARM BAR!! OH MY GOD!!” King yells out as he starts to jump up and down over the most explosive move in wrestling

 

“I guess I was wrong, he does know an arm bar from a crowbar” Pete just remarks as his co-commentator calms down again.

 

Bruce twists the arm backwards, trying to bend it over the metal in a very unnatural position to inflict a serious amount of pain on his opponent. After a moment of two of twisting agonizing pain Bruce swiftly kicks the cage in an attempt to separate Max’s arm from the rest of his body, fortunately for both Max and the fans in the front row Max’s arm stays attached to his shoulder.

 

“I’m surprised at Bruce, I half expected him to go in there and just try to squeeze Max through the bars of the cage” Pete says with surprise.

 

A split second after those words have left Pete’s mouth Bruce picks up Max and presses him over his head with a vicious smile before throwing the Icon head and face first into the cage.

 

“You spoke too soon Brain Clogger!!” King points out much to Pete’s chagrin.

 

After Max’s body collides with the steel cage it drops straight down to the canvas, scraping Max’s back across the bars as he drops down behind the ring ropes. With Max in the perfect position Bruce seizes the momentum and begins to stomp away on Max’s chest and arm as the Icon is pressed back against the cage with each kick stomp Bruce lands.

 

“That’ll teach me to keep my big mouth shut” Pete comments as Bruce makes him eat his words from earlier.

 

“Oh we can only hope and pray Pete!” King fires back in a very serious tone.

 

After about 10 kicks or so Bruce drags Max back into the center of the ring and then lifts him up high in the air with both hands wrapped about the Icon’s wind pipe as he raises Max off the ground. With Max raised in the air he’s putting both his own weight and Max’s weight on his legs which are already aching from being worked over earlier. Add to that a stray kick from Max that nails Bruce right in the knee cap and it’s no wonder Bruce has to drop the choke hold before his leg gives out.

 

“Did you see that kick to the knee? Always thinking” Pete says

 

“You’re saying that’s intentional? Oh get ever so real” King fires back at his co-commentator to dismiss any notion of the kick being premeditated.

 

Bruce quickly gets in position behind Max, motioning for him to get up as he waist for just the right moment to strike once more. The second Max is up and about to turn around Bruce runs at him and raises his massive right boot to plant it upside Max’s head. Having spotted out of the corner of his eye Max King was prepared for the move and quickly turns the big boot into a knee twisting, joint wrenching leg drag that sends all of Bruce’s 295 pounds hurtling through the air to the canvas.

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!

 

“The fans have clearly picked Max’s side tonight” Pete points out in case the viewers at home didn’t realize what the cheering signified.

 

“So what Pete? This isn’t a popularity contest you know? It’s not about who they cheer for the most, it’s about who can whip the other guy’s ASS!!” King explains.

 

Max knows that he only has a limited window of opportunity before Bruce regains his senses and makes the best of it by leaping over Bruce’s head with both hands getting a handful of hair to snap Bruce’s head forward in one smooth motion. The backlash from the move sense Bruce flipping over backwards, onto his knees against the ropes where he tries desperately to shake off the cobwebs

 

“It really doesn’t look good for Bruce right now King, he may be out of a title shot” Pete says.

 

“A title shot? It’s much worse than that, this is Bruce’s type of match – he’s the champion of these brutal matches, if he loses it’s a slap in the face of his pride” King points out.

 

Max seems to have an idea as he quickly drags Bruce through the ropes and then brings him to his feet in the 2 food gap between the ropes and the cage. Max turns his back to Bruce and takes a few steps away as the cocky grin returns to his face, then he quickly whips round 180 and drop kicks Bruce square in the chest sending the big man into the cage.

 

*KRESH!!*

 

Max holds up two fingers in the air as if to ask the crowd if he should do it again

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!

 

With a smirk Max quickly drop kicks the dazed Bruce once more with the same result as the first time

 

*KRESH!*

 

“I don’t think there is anything but the ropes holding up Bruce right now” Pete speculates as Bruce looks like he’s out on his feet.

 

*KRESH!*

 

“A THIRD DROP KICK!!” King yells out as Max once again connects with Bruce’s chest.

 

“He’s an expert at using the ring and the cage to his advantage, he’s been really impressive here tonight” Pete says as Max King struts confidently in the ring.

 

After a quick strut in the ring Max grabs Bruce by the hair and drags him over the 2nd rope into the ring where Bruce just collapses on the canvas, seemingly out cold from the punishing impact against the cage. With Bruce down Max wastes no time in heading over to one of the corners of the cage where he begins to climb the bars.

 

“MAX IS GOING UPSTAIRS!!” Pete yells out like an excited school girl as Max King begins to climb up the corner turnbuckles.

 

“Will he stop at the top rope or is he heading for the exit” King ponders.

 

“He’s climbing the cage!!” Pete replies as Max starts to climb up the side of the cage as well.

 

Once he’s up on top he stops for a moment, looks at the downed Bruce Blank in the center of the ring, then he smiles the confident, cocky smile that is Max King’s trademark.

 

“I don’t like the look of this King” Pete says as Max climbs up and balances on the top of the cage looking down at Bruce.

 

“He’s not… “ King says, not daring to finish the though

 

Max leaps off the top rope

 

“HE’S GONNA!!” Pete confirms as Max King flies through the air, elbow out for a cage height elbow drop.

 

*BAM!!*

 

At the last moment Bruce rolls to his right to escape the point of the elbow but he still gets struck in the back of the head with Max’s boots as the Icon’s already hurt right elbow suffers even more damage as it hits the canvas at high speed.

 

“Man that’s GOT to hurt” Pete says stating the obvious.

 

“He could have left! He could have gotten out of the damn cage and won the match!” King points out as both Max and Bruce are on the canvas in a world of pain.

 

Max slowly gets up onto his knees while cradling his right arm against his body, trying to protect it from further damage as the Icon gets to his feet. Max looks at Bruce who’s still on the ground holding the back of his head from where Max’s boots struck him, then he looks at the top of the cage and heads for the corner once more.

 

“I hope he learned his lesson, get out while you can” King says as Max climbs up the turnbuckles, although it’s slow going since he only uses his left arm for support.

 

“He won’t leap off the top again, no way no how King” Pete says as Max reaches the top rope and balances on it as he tries to get a good grip on the cage.

 

“Looks like his escape won’t be quite that easy” the Suicide King replies as they watch Bruce get to his feet and stagger over towards the corner as well.

 

Bruce reaches up and grabs Max by the trunks a split second after the Icon puts his hand on the top of the corner joint of the cage. A moment later Bruce has managed to climb up on the top turnbuckle behind Max as the Icon tries his best to escape Bruce’s grip to no avail as Bruce clings on like a limpid. With one arm around Max’s waist and the other supporting the leg Bruce lifts Max King up in the air for a top rope back drop that stuns the crowd.

 

*BAM!!*

 

“How did Max end up on top” King asks all confused as Bruce hits the canvas with Max on top of him instead of the backdrop that Bruce had intended.

 

“Let’s take a look at just how that backfired on Bruce” Pete replies as he’s not quite sure what happened either.

 

Since both Bruce and Max are down in the ring from the fall off the top rope the image on the screen switches to an instant replay of the move. In slow motion we see how Bruce lifts Max up in the air, pulling his hands off the top of the cage as Bruce drops backwards. As Bruce falls backwards we see Max King twist his body in such a way that he ends up in a cross body block position and lands on top of Bruce as the two men slam to the canvas

 

“So Max reversed the backdrop at the last moment, man I didn’t even see that the first time round” Pete says, gushing over Max’s flash of brilliance in the ring.

 

“Can we back the footage up once more?” King asks.

 

“Why?”

 

“Well because I saw something else – and neither Max nor Bruce are up yet anyway.”

 

The footage is repeated, but the second Bruce has Max raised in the air, a split second before the Icon twists his body, King yells out “Pause it!!”

 

“Do you see that? Bruce’s knee buckled under him” King points out as the image clearly shows.

 

“Well I’ll be damned, Max weakened the leg more than we thought” Pete replies as the frozen frame on the screen is replaced with a shot of the ring where both Max and Bruce are slowly getting back up.

 

Since Bruce took most of the brunt Max is up quicker and moves behind Bruce with his arms raised in the air signalling for the Iconizer Choke lock. The second he moves in and begins to lock on the Kajihajime Bruce swings his elbow backwards and makes bone on flesh contact with Max King’s most private of parts.

 

“Right on the Mommy/Daddy button!” Pete yelps out in the kind of sympathy pain most men get when they see a guy get hit in the nads.

 

“Dirty… but effective” King says in an approving tone.

 

Another back elbow to the groin and Max is on his knees, doubled over as he curses out Bruce and his entire family tree way back to the monkeys. With Max so effectively put down Bruce finally makes his own move for the cage, climbing the ropes while clinging on to the bars. The combination of exhaustion, a bad leg, slippery boots and the damage Bruce has taken so far slows the climb down to a crawl almost, allowing Max time to recover and check that everything is still where it’s supposed to be before he gingerly gets back up.

 

“I wonder if you can claim “squished nuts” on your workman’s comp forms” King ponders as Max grabs Bruce by the pant leg to stop him from climbing much further.

 

“Ask Max after the match” Pete replies without getting the joke.

 

With one hand on Bruce, holding on to prevent the big man from climbing any further Max manages to drag himself to the top rope on sheer willpower and determination. Once he’s up on the top turnbuckle as well the two combatants exchange a series of lefts as they both use their right hands to cling on to the cage and not fall off the top rope.

 

“Don’t go fist to fist with Bruce, he’s too powerful for that” Pete warns

 

“OH YEAH!!” the Suicide King yells out as Bruce grabs Max by the hair and slams him against the cage head first.

 

With Max clinging to the cage just to stay up Bruce grips the top bar and drags his massive body over the edge of the cage, gingerly placing his foot on one of the bars to prevent himself from falling the 15 feet to the ground. The crowd boos like crazy as Bruce edges closer and closer to victory as he slides his entire body over the top of the cage. Bruce climbs down one rung, but as soon as he stretches his leg out for the next bar Max shakes his cobwebs enough to reach over the top of the cage and reach down to grab Bruce by the shirt and the back of his long mullet.

 

“DENIED!!” Pete yells out as Max King blocks Bruce’s decent

 

“You pessimist, until he’s back in the cage he’s got a good chance of winning” King fires back at his partner.

 

Bruce tries to tear loose from Max’s grip but only manages to pull his shirt up around his throat giving Max even more leverage as he pulls up on the 295 pounder dragging him up inch by inch towards the top of the cage once more. After quite a struggle Max finally manages to drag Bruce up so high that he can drape his opponent’s throat over the top bar and start the choke him out. The second he feels the steel against his throat Bruce begins to freak out and thrash with his arms and kicking with his legs to free himself. In order to keep the choke hold on Max drapes his right leg over Bruce’s head and hooks his boot under one of the bars to keep the hold locked on.

 

“He’s always thinking in the ring… or cage… whatever!” King says

 

“Through out this match he’s been able to use his surroundings to his advantage, he’s wrestled as a smart a match as you possibly can” Pete follows up.

 

With the leg locked in Bruce has no means of escape, no matter how much he tries to fight against it Bruce’s air ways are cut off by the steel bar. After choking Bruce out for a minute or so Max finally unhooks his leg, reaches over and grabs Bruce by the back of his jeans and heaves the big man over the top rope, flipping him inside the cage once more. Bruce is unable to block the move, but instead of flipping to the ground he manages to hold on to the cage by one arm and ends up sitting on the top rope, dangling from his right hand as he gasps for air.

 

“This could be Max’s opening! Over the top!! OVER THE TOP!!” Pete yells out as Max straddles the top of the cage

 

“Yeah you certainly are Pete” King adds.

 

The crowd begins to cheer as Max lifts his other leg over the top of the cage and begins to climb down towards the floor. The confident grin that was on Max’s face earlier in the match returns as he’s now only 6 or so feet from the ground, only 6 or so feet from victory. Max is inches away from leaping off the cage when Bruce reaches through the bars and quickly pulls Max forwards ramming his head into the cage.

 

“Oh so damn close!!” Pete says excitedly as this match teeters on the brink of ending

 

“Bruce isn’t ready to give it up just yet, he’s not ready to let Max take the victory!!” King fires back getting quite into the action as well.

 

Max isn’t able to leap off the cage as Bruce has a good hard grip on his hair and he doesn’t want to get a bald spot to win the match. Bruce quickly slides his t-shirt over his head and then through the cage to wrap it around Max’s throat and twists it to get a really good grip on his opponent. Bruce reaches over the next bar with his left hand, then he shifts his right hand as well making sure to never loosen his grip on Max as he slowly drags him kicking and screaming towards the top of the cage.

 

“Just one wrong move and it’s all over!” Pete says pointing out just how much of a nail biter the match has turned into.

 

“One wrong move and Max may win the match but end up seriously hurt” King points out.

 

After much fighting and dragging Bruce finally climbs up on the top of the cage with Max King in tow. Bruce straddles the cage as he drags Max forward over the top trying to throw the Icon off the cage into the ring. Since he finally has a clean shot at Bruce without the cage to block him Max fires off a back elbow right to Bruce’s gut. Once out Bruce grip the Icon quickly straddles the top of the cage, locking in his leg to prevent him from falling off and then he fires off a fist square to Bruce’s jaw.

 

“What a shot!” Pete say

 

Bruce shake’s the blow off and fires off a right hand of his own rocking Max backwards from the force of the blow.

 

“If they’re not careful they can lose the match by knocking the other guy down. Can you imagine losing a match because you punch TOO hard?” King ponders as Bruce and Max exchange right hands as they both straddle the top of the cage.

 

Max fires off a quick jab to Bruce’s ear and then follows up with another lighting quick blow followed by a third one before Bruce can even react. Dazed from the stinging blows Bruce reaches out in desperation and rakes Max’s eyes. The combination of the ragged tape on Bruce’s hand and the fingers to the eyes blinds Max momentarily giving Bruce a totally free shot at the Icon

 

Bruce clenches his fist and brings it upwards, landing a rock hard upper cut that lands squarely on Max’s jaw

 

*POW!!*

 

For a second the entire arena is silent as Max slowly arches backwards, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he falls backwards…

 

And hangs upside down outside the cage as his left leg is locked under one of the bars effectively trapping the Icon on the cage. Bruce almost can’t believe his eyes as he realizes that Max is stuck, then he wastes no time in climbing over the top of the cage and starts to slowly climb down the side of the cage.

 

“Max is so totally stuck! This thing is…”

 

That’s all King is able to say before Bruce’s sweat dripping hand slips on the cage and the big man drops the 6 –7 feet to the ground where he lands square on his ample ass.

 

* DING*DING*DING*DING*DING*

 

“Bruce wins!! Bruce uses his ass and wins” King yells out as the bell rings.

 

“The winner of the match, entitled to a shot at the World Tag-Team champions with a partner of his choice – the Trailerpark Messiah – BRUUUUUUUUUCEEEEEE BLANK!” Funyon announces as Bruce slowly drags himself up on his knees.

 

WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!!

 

“Bruce gets another chance to tangle with TKO!” King exclaims hinting at the mixed results Bruce has had against TORU and KOJI so far.

 

“Unless they’re not the champions by the time Bruce finds a partner” Pete interjects, as always happy to spoil any point King is trying to make.

 

“Oh you suck!”

 

WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!! WHITEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TRASH!!

 

The chant rings through the arena as Bruce walks down the aisle towards the back, he might be limping, he might be holding his ribs in agony but he is victorious once again. Just before he exits the arena he stops to make a comment to the closest camera.

 

“T.K.O.!! Your days on top are numbered”

 

Fade out.