ChrisMWaters 0 Report post Posted January 19, 2006 The camera returns to the Qwest Center after the insipid tripe that is commercials, showing that the crowd is once again ready to get the show rolling. "Back to Lockdown, everyone," Longdogger Pete re-introduces "and next up on this card is a very unique style match: a Triple Impact match. For those of you who have never seen this type of contest, why don't you go over the rules for them, Suicide? "Oh, MAY I?" Suicide King replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Anyway, it's very simple. Funyon will read a specific move from a card at the start of the match. That move, drawn at random backstage, will need to be hit three times by a wrestler in order to get the victory." "And the thing about this is, we don't know WHAT type of move it's going to be." Pete adds. "It could play to either man's strengths, it could play to either man's weaknesses." "And THAT is what's going to make this very interesting. Despite my feelings for either of these guys now." "Let's get this started!" Pete calls quickly, as the camera cuts to the ring, Funyon ready to do his job. Funyon: The following contest is a Triple Impact Match! The first man to hit a randomly drawn move three times will be the winner! "Bouncin' Back" by Mystikal cues up over the speakers now, and the crowd pops for the Human Hurricane as he makes his way out. Funyon: Introducing first, from the Bahamas, standing 5'11" tall and weighing in at 214 pounds...WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILDCHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILD! "The former multiple time SWF Tag Team Champion will be giving up some size and strength in this match, but I'm sure that Wildchild is already aware and prepared for such an eventuality." Pete says. "Especially since he, as far as I know, does have an experience edge going into this match." "Well, that may be true..." Suicide King begins, apparently about to make a point. "...but there COULD be a chance that the move that is needed to win this match is a power move, in which case Wildchild will have to dig down REALLY deep to get the win." He finishes as The Bahama Bomber slides under the bottom rope, getting into the ring. "That is a good point, King.. But you know that Wildchild is looking to get the win, especially after being screwed out of the International Championship two shows ago." "That's only your opinion on what happened." Suicide King replied. "He won the match, but not the title. He should be happy with that." "Bouncin' Back" is cut off now, along with the lights in the arena. The crowd anxiously awaits for the announcment... THE KING...HAS...RETURNED! *BOOM!* And "Superstar" cues up over the speakers now, the crowd giving a pretty equal reaction to the opponent for Wildchild as he and his sexy manager make their way out, tonight in blue attire. Funyon: Aaaand his opponent, accompanied to the ring by his manager Kelly "The Queen" Connelly, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania...standing 6'3" tall and weighing in at 250 pounds..."THE ICOOOOOOOOOON"....MAAAAAAAAAAX...KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING! "For Max King this is a match that he feels he MUST win." Pete explains as King and Kelly make their way to the ring. "The past two shows have been rough for him, losing to Ghost Machine and TORU in close matches. A win here COULD help him get back on track for his plans in the future." "Yeah, but his plans are kinda twisted, if you ask me." S. King states. "I mean, teaming with his former enemy to go for the Tag Straps, when he's already lost to one half of the champions? Not a smart move at all." King and Kelly get up onto the ring apron, looking out to the crowd...all of whom are showing respect for both these great athletes. Wrestler and manager both step between the top and middle rope, leaning in for a kiss as they enter, then go to a neutral corner. "Despite your opinion on the matter of King's tastes in partners, the fact remains that he's got great skills, and this should be a classic match between to great competitors. Let's find out the move that's going to be the goal of the match!" Pete says. In the ring, as "Superstar" fades out and as Kelly removes King's jacket and shades, Funyon pulls an envelope out of his jacket pocket...obviously containing the move. Both combatants wait patiently for the announcement. Funyon: And the move that will be used for the victory IS.... A drum-roll cues up over the speakers, obviously to build dramatic tension as Funyon opens up the envelope. He nods after reading the move inside, before announcing... Funyon: MISSILE DROPKICK! "WOW!" both Pete and Suicide call out at the same time. Wildchild seems to be a bit happy now, glad that the move isn't a power one. King's expression is a rather stoic one, not reacting one way or another to the announcement. "Well, if previous matches with Wildchild are any indication, this will play HEAVILY into his favor for this match." Pete says. "King is going to have to work carefully to get the win." Kelly steps out of the ring after talking to King a bit, "The Icon" nodding solemnly at what he has to do. Once manager and ring announcer are out of the ring, the bell rings. "We're underway!" Pete calls, as both King and Wildchild step into the center of the ring. The fans are watching on at the start to see how these two will react to each other... ...and cheer more as the two pound fists as they reach each other. "Ugh, sickening!" Suicide says, sighing. "Well, even with the Family Friendly rules removed, King and Wildchild showing good sportsmanship here before they get to fighting." The two of them step back, waiting now to see the first move of the other is. King reaches in, trying to grab Wildchild in a grapple, but the smaller competitor manages to duck under the attempt, slipping behind King, slamming his elbow into the back of the larger athlete's neck. King tries to turn around and catch Wildchild with a back-strike, but the Tropical Tumbler manages to roll out of the way, causing King's attempted strike to hit nothing but air. The former Tag Champ uses the ring ropes as a boost before attempting a flying forearm on King, but "The Icon" side-steps the move, causing Wildchild to crash down on the mat. Max tries to catch Wildchild while he's still on the mat, but the endurance of the former tag champ is too much to keep him down longer than a split second, and King hits nothing but canvas. Wildchild climbs up to the top rope immediately, King just a few steps slower than Wildchild, gets up to his feet at just about the same time as Wildchild reaches the top, and turns around as The Bahama Bomber leaps off to attempt the first Missile Dropkick of the match. King seems to be ready for it though, stepping to the side, and pushing down so his opponent crashes down. Max steps towards Wildchild, but the lighter competitor trips King by his ankle, taking him down. Both men stand up to their feet, looking at each other, and getting applause from the capacity crowd. "What a quick exchange to start this match of two great competitors!" Pete calls. "However, I don't think that BOTH Wildchild and King can keep this pace up for the entire match." "Oh, no WAY that they can keep this up." Suicide states. "King will have to get Wildchild down and use his power advantage against Wildchild if he wants to get him dazed enough for the Missile Dropkick attempts." "I'll agree with that assessment, but the problem for King is trying to get a good hold of Wildchild to keep him down for something power-wise." Pete adds, as King and Wildchild both approach the center of the ring again. The former Tag Team Champion bounces off the ropes, apparently trying for another high-impact move on King, but "The Icon" is prepared for it this time, ducking down and back-dropping the 214 pounder down to the canvas. Immediately, King drops a knee into the chest of Wildchild, trying to use ALL of his 250-pounds into the chest and sternum area of Wildchild. "Now THAT'S what King needed to do...ground Wildchild, and use his power against him!" Suicide King notes. "But he can't keep him grounded for TOO long, S.K. After all, Wildchild needs to be on his feet if King is going to hit him with a Missile Dropkick!" Pete reminds. "This isn't a regular match, remember." As if he could hear what was being said at ringside, Max King goes over to the ring ropes, climbing up them to go for his first attempt at building up a win. "But this could be a mistake! Wildchild went for the move early, and missed it. And King I don't think can fly as high, as far, or as fast as The Caribbean Cruiser can!" Pete says rather bluntly. "I hate to say it, but I agree with you in this situation!" Suicide replies. Wildchild gets up to his feet after a few seconds, the wind apparently knocked out of him momentarily from that elbow shot from King earlier. The man who has before claimed to be Wrestling's Superman waits for Wildchild to turn around, before leaping up for all he's worth, trying to catch his opponent with a Missile Dropkick. However, the former Tag Champ catches the attempt coming with his eyes, back-flipping out of the way and causing King to crash down. Almost IMMEDIATELY after landing onto his feet, Wildchild leaps to the top rope again, and as King turns around, he gets BLASTED in the face with a Wildchild Missile Dropkick! Funyon: Wildchild gains a point with that Missile Dropkick. The score is now 1-0 in favor of Wildchild! "That says it all, right there: Wildchild only has to hit that move two more times, and he's going to get the win in this contest!" Suicide King notes. "Well, from here on it's going to be a slightly uphill battle for the former ICTV Champion. That's got to get into the mind of King...and now Wildchild is climbing up again! Apparently he's going to try for the quick win in this match!" Wildchild has a look of confidence on his paint-clad face as he balances on the top rope, waiting for King to turn around once again. Like a...well, like a missile, for lack of a better term...The Bahama Bomber leaps off, attempting to nail King in the face once again. King seems to be ready for it this time though, and simply takes a step back this time, grabbing the legs of Wildchild as he comes off the top. The crowd cheers out as King starts twisting the leg of Wildchild, trying to get him locked up into a Figure Four...but Wildchild manages to punch free and roll out of the ring, "Now THAT was a brilliant attempt by King there, and that may make up for that early Missile Dropkick attempt." Suicide King states. "If King takes out the legs of Wildchild, not only will that reduce his speed greatly, but it will also hurt the man from the Bahamas' chances of getting the move in!" "Fortunately for Wildchild's sake, he knew just what was coming, and managed to get to the outside to regroup. Remember, Wildchild can't be counted out in this type of...wait a second." The "wait a second" refers to the fact that, wile Wildchild tries to regain his bearings on the arena floor, Max King actually starts climbing up the nearest turnbuckle, an almost twisted grin on his face. Kelly looks afraid, as if she doesn't think that this is a very good idea. The capacity crowd in the Qwest Center, however, are on their feet, ready to see Max take a GREAT risk to get the victory. "Max King on the top rope, and I don't think that Wildchild has any idea that King is up there!" Pete says. "But he better learn quickly, because..." Wildchild turns around JUST as King comes off the tope rope to the arena floor, and gets blasted by a 6 foot 3 inch tall missile coming at him feet first, and gets knocked right against the ring barricade! Funyon: "The Icon" Max King gains a point with that Missile Dropkick. The score is now tied at one a piece. "Well that was a great risk by "The Icon", going for a move like that from the top rope to the floor, but in this case it has paid off." Pete calls. "But the REAL question is, who took the worst of that: Wildchild or Max King? I mean, King DID land on that arena floor back first, and there's only so much padding there to protect someone's body." Kelly Connelly is quick to rush over to the side of the ring where her man is laying, concerned as King writhes in pain on the floor. Wildchild, on the other hand, is barely supported by the ring barricade, having hit it with his back and the back of his head after King hit the move. The referee is about to start a count since both men are out of the ring, but quickly remembers the rules of this contest. Kelly continues to try to get her man to come to again, but unfortunately for her, it's Wildchild who is the first to move, pushing himself off of the barricade and collapsing back down to his knees after he does so. "Now see, this is what I was talking about, Pete. King put almost everything that he had into that missile dropkick, but because of where he landed it's Wildchild who moves first." "Well, that's what you have to do, King. You know that as well as anyone...try whatever it takes to get a win in a match, no matter what the rules are." Pete reminds. Wildchild crawls towards the ring, his back seemingly hurting from hitting the barricade as he does, but is still ready to continue on with this match. Kelly, desperate to make sure that Wildchild doesn't have TOO much of a head start in coming back in this match, leans in and... "WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" goes the crowd, as Kelly plants a deep and almost passionate kiss on King. "Well, that's ONE way to revive someone." Pete says with a chuckle, as Max King starts coming too. He reaches up to touch Kelly's face, before realizing that he's in the arena. Meanwhile, in the ring, Wildchild uses the ring ropes to help himself back up to his feet, and ready to continue the offensive. King is getting back on his feet as Wild is climbing up to the top rope, and starts to make his way to the other turnbuckle from the top rope. "I don't know how wise an Andros Dive is in this situation, Pete!" Suicide notes, obviously seeing what Wildchild is attempting. King, finally steady, turns to see what's coming, and with a burst of speed that could be considered by some surprising for a man that's 250, runs up the ring steps, and shakes the ropes, causing Wildchild to crotch himself on the top turnbuckle. "See what I mean, Pete!" "I do see what you mean. King now getting back into the ring, and he's ready to capitalize on this situation that was built up. Climbing the ropes while Wildchild is still crotched on the top, King grabs his opponent around for some type of superplex. The former Wild and Dangerous team member is prepared for such an attempt though, repeatedly driving his elbow into King's jaw. King starts to club back with forearms of his own, his power edge proving to be an advantage as he slugs at the back of Wildchild. Realizing that arm attacks aren't working out for him as he would have liked, The Human Hurricane starts nailing King with almost desperation-style headbutts. Feeling King start to slip off of his perch, Wildchild quickly turns around and gains his balance on the top rope, and with King still holding on to the ropes with one hand, springboards, turns in mid air, and nails King with a Missile Dropkick that pushes both of them off of the top rope to the canvas. Unfortunately for "The Icon", he lands on his back, while Wildchild rolls and gets back to his feet! Funyon: Wildchild gains a point with that Missile Dropkick. The score is now 2-1 in favor of Wildchild! "That counted?" Suicide asks, surprised. "Well, they said Missile Dropkicks. They didn't say ANYTHING about them not being modified versions of it." Pete says. "And now Max King is going to have to play a MAJOR game of catch-up, being down 2 to 1 in this case!" "That's right, and Wildchild climbing up to the top rope already! He's ready to get the win right away!" Suicide King calls, as Wildchild climbs up. Max King curses to himself at the fact that he's fallen behind already in this match, turning up to see Wildchild balancing himself on the top. Not about to get caught again with another Missile Dropkick, "The Icon" runs up the turnbuckles, grabbing The Tropical Tumbler into a Superplex, and twisting just at the last second in mid air to land right on top of his opponent. "Superbplex! And that will upset the game-plan of Wildchild, and take the wind right out of the cruiserweight-level wrestler's body!" Pete calls. "And King not wasting a second as HE tries to get up to the top rope again!" "Well, even though it may not be the best move to do in a situation like this, in this case he HAS to set that up to win the match!" Suicide states. "Wildchild getting to a seated position...I'm not sure that Wildchild WANTS to get back standing until he knows just exactly where King is." Pete says. "That may just be one of the best moves made in this match, because it's harder to hit a Missile Dropkick if your opponent is..." Max King is quick to prove Pete wrong before he can even finish his sentence, jumping down to the second rope and using THAT rope to hit a Missile Dropkick! It may not have been as flashy as his first, but the referee decides that it's good enough! Funyon: "The Icon" Max King gains a point for that Missile Dropkick! The score is tied at two! "Well, he proved you wrong in that situation, Pete! And NOW is the time where things will get intense!" Suicide calls. "It's the fourth quarter, the bottom of the ninth, whatever cliché you wanna use in this type of situation." Pete says. "But the fact remains, only one more Missile Dropkick will win this match, and both men you KNOW are waiting for the chance to get to use it." King gets up to his feet, all smiles as he realizes how close he is to victory now. Wildchild, on the other hand, is holding his head from repeated shots to it from a 250-pound man. King is not too eager to get to the ropes again, instead opting to grab Wildchild and lift him back onto his feet. Whipping the Bahama Bomber into the ropes, King attempts for a flying forearm shot of his own, but Wildchild manages to duck under the move, waiting for King to get up. Wildchild leaps up, and catches King in the face with his patented Leg Lariat! The crowd is on their feet as these two great combatants continue their match, and Wildchild brings more cheers from their mouths as he goes to the ring ropes, King getting up to his feet, and uses the top rope for a springboard, hooking King's head and twisting in mid air, dropping "The Icon" with the Springboard DDT! "King landing right on his head there, and this is the set-up that Wildchild needed!" Pete says. "But he wants to make sure of it, as he once again goes to pick up King!" "Well, I THINK that Wildchild is thinking about hitting King with one of his BIG signature moves so that King doesn't realize where Wildchild is even when he gets back up, but you KNOW that he won't be able to get King up for the Wild Ride!" Wildchild, nevertheless, sets King up into the position to seemingly start the Wild Driver. However, an attempted lift proves Suicide King's point for him, and he attempts to adjust the move into the Wild Driver! "Wild Driver attempt...this is going to do it for King if Wildchild hits it...but King manages to power out!" Pete says as it happens, King using all the strength in his arms to break free. Wildchild turns around, but King manages to stay behind him, hooking him up into a sleeper hold, and dropping him with a Sleeper Drop! "Wildchild should have gone for the move while he had the chance!" Suicide correctly calls. "This is what could cost him BIG time right now...and King wasting NO time in going to the top rope for HIS attempt!" "Well, Wildchild took a chance in not going for the win, but the fact remains it's happened, and he's going to have to live with that decision." "And possibly die by that decision too." Suicide adds. Kelly is on the outside of the ring, bouncing in jubilation at the fact that King is only one move away from getting the victory, and King is...well, simply focused on trying to actually hit the move. Wildchild starts getting up, holding the back of his head and his throat area from that Sleeper Drop, but despite the pain in both of those areas in his body has enough wherewithal to leap up, catching King while he's on the top rope and running jumps up, showing INCREDIBLE agility and jumping ability as he catches King off the top rope, monkey-flipping him all the way to the canvas once again. With both men down on the canvas, hurting from all that they've put each other through, the crowd takes up a dueling chant. "WILD-CHILD!" "LET'S GO I-CON!" "WILD-CHILD!" "LET'S GO I-CON!" "WILD-CHILD!" "LET'S GO I-CON!" "These fans showing respect for what BOTH of these men are putting each other through in the name of competition, Suicide King! You know that whoever wins this match will be in contention for singles gold in the very near future." Pete proudly proclaims. "And they may take months off of their careers if they keep trying these types of risks. I'm surprised that either of them was standing for that exchange just seconds ago." Suicide says. "That's what this match is all about, King...the spirit of fighting, no matter what it takes to get the win." Pete says. "Wildchild starting to stir now, he's the first one to get up to his feet. That spells bad news for Max King if Wildchild is quick enough to capitalize on this type of situation." Pete calls. Wildchild nods out to the crowd, giving a point to the turnbuckle and bringing the fans to their feet again. The "WILD-CHILD!" chant builds up more, but the "LET'S GO I-CON!" chant is right behind, trying to will Max King back up to his feet again to keep this match going on. However, King still isn't up to his feet as Wildchild scales the turnbuckles, ready to get his balance and fly once again right into the face of King. "Wildchild waiting on that top rope, like a tiger ready to pounce on his prey! And the prey is just NOW starting to move off of the mat!" Pete says. "This is it, Pete...Max King's losing streak is about to continue in just mere seconds!" Suicide calls. Wildchild nods out to the crowd, and as King starts turning actually presses off, seemingly going for a shooting star press, but doing an extra-twist in mid air with a Missile Dropkick attempt. However, King manages to brace himself and catch the legs of The Bahama Bomber as he flew, causing him to crash and having him right where he wanted. In no time, King twists the former Tag Champ's legs into a figure four position, putting his arms through and twisting him over! "TEXAS CLOVERLEAF!" Pete calls. "Wildchild went TOO wild out there in that Shooting Star before the Missile Dropkick, and now he's going to pay for it!" The camera quickly goes to the face of Wildchild, showing the pain etched on it from King pulling on the legs and pressing his weight down into the back of Wildchild. The crowd is electric, loving the exchange that has gone on between the two of them! "Man, that HAS to be killing Wildchild there, all that pain in the body! If..." Suicide King is interrupted by Wildchild rapidly slapping the mat, tapping out to the pain of the Texas Cloverleaf! However, obviously no bell is rung, and King presses just a bit more with the hold. "Remember Pete, there's no submission wins in THIS match!" Suicide calls. "Wildchild could tap all night, and there's nothing that can be done!" "But Max now letting go of the hold, and climbing up to the top right away. He wanted to weaken Wildchild's legs, so even if he COULD get away from this attempt, he won't have as much as he could left to go for another Missile Dropkick!" Pete calls. "If Max hits, this match is over! The fans are on their feet, waiting to see just what will happen!" Kelly cheers for King keeping his balance on the top, and makes SURE that he realizes the fact that The Tropical Tumbler is getting up...slowly to due to the work done to his leg. Wildchild turns, King leaps off the top for his attempt... ...And King NAILS it, dropping Wildchild HARD with it and forcing the bell to be rung! Funyon: Here is your winner, "THE ICON"...MAAAAAAAAAAX...KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING! The crowd gets up to their feet and applauds...whether it's for King winning, Wildchild's attempt at a victory, or just both of these great competitors is up for debate. "A VERY close and hard fought match between two GREAT superstars, but in the end it was Max King showing great agility and smarts in catching Wildchild off guard to get the victory!" Pete says, as Kelly gets into the ring to hug her man while he's still on the ground. "Well, I unfortunately have to give the guy credit: to be perfectly honest, I never expected King to get the victory when the Missile Dropkick was announced as the move. But he surprised me, and probably surprised a lot of other people in the crowd." Suicide King notes. "But with some of the stuff that he had tried in the match, one has to wonder just how much this match has taken out of "The Icon"." "Not just Max King, what has it taken out of EITHER man, these two...wait, King getting up now, with Kelly's help, and looks over to a just recovering Wildchild. I don't know if he knows that this match is over." "Ooh, now THIS could get REALLY interesting! Let's see these two take each other on some more, I'd love it!" Suicide says, from the sounds of the shuffling getting on the edge of his seat for an apparent confrintation. However, Suicide King gets disappointed, but the fans don't...as King helps Wildchild up, being careful of the legs that he weakened with the Texas Cloverleaf, and shakes his hand. Kelly grins widely, stepping between both competitors and raising both their hands as "Superstar" starts playing over the speakers now. "I don't think it really mattered WHO won this match. In the fans eyes, as well as in the eyes of King, Kelly, AND Wildchild, both combatants are winners tonight for that great match that they just had." Pete says. "What sentimental garbage." Suicide King almost spits out, as all three start to leave the ring, Kelly holding the ropes for both men. "If that match was any indication of what's to come, we're going to have a GREAT next two matches. Coming up next, JJ Johnson vs. TORU Takahara! Don't go away!" The camera fades out as King AND Wildchild go up the ramp, Kelly helping in her own way to hold both men up as they're lead to the backstage area. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Vasarian_Brandy 0 Report post Posted January 19, 2006 This was nowhere near the quality of match I used to put together, I know... But as I was writing, I felt completely rusty. Couldn't put together a good flow in the slightest. I just read Muzz's match, and damn.. Made mine look extremely, -extremely- ameteur. Anyway... Here it is. ---------- Television screens tuned into the SWF broadcast fade back in to a rotating view of the massive crowd at the Qwest Center, screaming and shouting... But the view darkens just a touch as “Get Over It” starts piping over the speakers. The crowd erupts harder suddenly as the camera focuses on a spot-lighted figure walking down the entranceway. “Welcome back to Lockdown, folks.” The voice of Longdogger Pete filters in over the crowd as the camera zooms in a bit more. We see a decently-dressed man... White shirt, black dress pants, slicked-back hair... A good-looking man, for all intents and purposes. YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! And the crowd is just eating it up! “If you’re just joining us, well... You haven’t missed too much.” “Yeah,” King interjects, “Just the end of Lockdown’s ‘Family Friendly’ bullshit.” Meanwhile, the man known simply as Wes Davenport slides into the ring. Funyon is already there, ready to do his thing. “And the return of the Crimson Skull,” Pete adds. “The who?” King adds in after a pause. With that, Funyon raises the mike to his lips. “Ladies and gentlemen, this match is scheduled for one fall. In the ring, hailing from Hollywood, California... Standing 6-foot-5, at 255 pounds... WEEEEESSSSS... DAAAAAVENPOOOOORT!!!” YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! The crowd belts into overdrive as Davenport raises an arm with a faint smile. “Wes Davenport hasn’t seen action since Ramadomination and his loss against Jay Hawke,” Pete intones. “There was rumors going around that he went to fill a key role in a new movie, but... We’re not really sure.” “The more important question,” King responds, “is ‘Would anyone care?’” “You’re in rare form, King.” “Bite me.” Slowly, the Center’s lights dim down, and the first strains of “Anxiety” filter over the speakers. The crowd doesn’t seem to respond much to this music... It’s new, unfamiliar... And the man coming out from the back is equally unfamiliar to the new folk in the crowd. The hard-cores and old-timers clap and shout (or boo and jeer) for the man in the black leather jacket... The black denim jeans, the sunglasses... And the kendo stick. White sparkler pyros set off with a decent SmarkTron display. The man coming up to the ring seems oblivious to it all as he drops the kendo stick off at the side of the ring, and slides in. He coolly eyes Davenport as Funyon brings the mike to his lips once more. “And the challenger, coming from Cleveland, Ohio... He stands 6-3, at 222 pounds... He is... CHRISSSSSTIANNNNN... FUUUUURYYYYY!!!” The crowd responds lightly as Fury takes off his jacket and sunglasses. “Well, this is the however-many-th time that Fury has returned,” Pete says with a smirk evident in his voice. “And each time, he looks like he’s just hanging on more and more... But why, I have no idea.” “But Pete, didn’t he technically come back on Ramad...” “That wasn’t him.” “It wasn’t?” “Nope. Impersonator. And why they picked someone like him, I have no clue.” “Oh.” The bell rings as Funyon slides out of the ring, and the two competitors are left to circle each other slowly. “Now didn’t you and Fury have a his...” “Yes.” Fury throws a quick jab, or rather, feints... Davenport turns it away before throwing his own fake-out. “Don’t want to talk abo...” “No.” Fury teases with another shot, but Davenport catches his arm, twisting it. Fury grimaces, but untwists and reverses, causing Davenport to grunt. Even as Davenport sags slightly though, he re-reverses, slinging Fury across the ring. Fury makes a bounce off the ropes, and Davenport catches him with an easy-looking hip toss, sending Fury to the mat and bringing a pop from the crowd... But only momentarily as Fury jumps back up to his feet. “Slow, boring, nearly non-existent offense so far,” notes King. “Well,” Pete responds as the two wrestlers lock up again, “Davenport hasn’t seen the ring in near a month... And for all we know, Fury hasn’t seen the ring at all in a year, so it’s not surprising.” Fury sends Davenport into the ropes, and tries for a hip toss on the rebound, but can’t bring Davenport off his feet. Wes, on the other hand, brings the attempt into an interesting reversal by hooking the leg, and dropping back with a *SMACK!* YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! “How could the crowd go that nuts about a Russian leg sweep?” “Davenport oozes charisma, King, Most movie star types do.” Davenport pulls Fury to his feet, locking him up, then hits the quick Euro Uppercut, snapping Fury’s head back. The crowd starts to pull behind the star as he once again sends Fury for the ropes. The rebound sees Fury ducking an attempted clothesline... But getting caught on the bounce by a drop toe hold by the now-prone Davenport. Fury is swiftly to his feet, but Davenport had beat him to the punch, winding up behind Fury and catching the standing returnee in a sleeper. This, of course... YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! ...Garners a pop from the crowd. “Fury with an excellent showing so far,” Pete chimes in, dripping with sarcasm. “I think he might have to retire if Davenport puts him out with a sleeper.” But just as King finishes, Fury lances a shot to Davenport’s shin... And another... And yet another... Before Davenport finally relents, and releases the hold. Fury stumbles just slightly as he moves away, but Davenport presses the advantage... He locks in a facelock, and... *WHAM!* YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! “Nice little snap suplex from Davenport there,” Pete states as Wes hooks the leg... ONE! T... And Fury pounds the shoulder up. “Near fall there, King.” “Yeah... I’m inclined to agree with what you’re probably thinking, Pete... Fury should’ve stayed retired... Or gone... Or dead...” King rants as Davenport hauls Fury up. “Fury was supposedly coming back with a bit more speed this time around,” Pete states. “I can see that here.” “Mmm-hmm.”Wes locks Fury up again, then nails him with a Euro Uppercut, seemingly stiffer than the first. Fury staggers just slightly, but it’s enough... Davenport steps back, and lances out a foot to nail Fury with a standing side kick... But Fury must’ve gotten the memo, because he leans back out of the way, and catches Davenport’s leg... And with a completely shocked and stunned look on Davenport’s face, and a quick spin, Fury takes Davenport down with a dragon screw. “Wait... I think I just saw some offense from Fury,” King gasps as Fury hauls Davenport up, and slings him into the ropes. Fury bends down as Davenport bounces, and grabs, and stands... And stands... And stands... Without success. Davenport hooks Fury’s head in his arm, hooks the trunks... Lifts... And... Falls... *WHAM!!!* YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! “Brain-Bustah!” Pete blurts. “It wasn’t all -that- great,” King mutters as Davenport hooks the leg. ONE! TWO...!! And Fury once again kicks out. “It really looks like Fury doesn’t know how to handle a bigger man anymore.” “It doesn’t even look like Fury knows how to wrestle anymore!” Davenport starts to actually -hear- the crowd, and he smiles as he hauls Fury to his feet. He slings Fury into the ropes, and proceeds to launch himself off the other set... He rebounds, and sets to throw down with the flying clothesline... But Fury’s... *WHAM!* BBBBBOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! ...Already had the idea for his own. “Wow... Fury -can- do something.” “Something.” Fury swiftly slides to the mat, and locks an inverted facelock in... Then hooks Davenport’s arm... “We’re seeing an odd number of sleepers here, aren’t we King?” “That’s what happen when shit meets shit in the ring, I guess...” Fury rears back harder, Davenport’s face reddening. The ref is close at hand, watching Davenport carefully, but there’s no signs that he wants to yield. As a matter of fact, Davenport is managing to drag himself towards the ropes quite nicely... And... The ref breaks the count as Davenport grabs the ropes. Fury releases the hold, and steps back. Davenport slowly gets to his feet.. And... ...Is greeted by a swift spinning heel kick, which puts him back against the ropes. “Fury with offense?” King questions as Fury launches Davenport off the ropes. Fury charges along, and catches Davenport’s head in a sleeper... ...But then swings him around and takes him down to the mat! BBBBBOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! “Wow... Fury actually has a move or two,” Pete states in surprise. “But did you notice that it had another sleeper?” “Yeap.” Fury, meanwhile, is hooking the leg for the cover... ONE! T... Davenport powers the shoulders up so hard that Fury is almost tossed off. “Knew that wasn’t going to work,” King says confidently. Fury clambers to his feet a tick faster than Davenport, and as such lances out with a quick nerve strike to the neck. Davenport staggers, but it seems to be enough as Fury presses... Grabbing his arm, and slinging him into the corner. Davenport looks winded, but nothing more as he starts to move... But Fury allows him no quarter. He launches into the corner, leveling shoulder after shoulder after shoulder into the movie star’s mid-section. The referee finally splits the two up, and Davenport comes out of the corner a little worse for wear. “Looks like Fury’s going rampant,” King intones. “Are you trying to make a joke?” Fury goes right back on the offensive as he clips Davenport to the mat with a Russian legsweep. He follows up by dropping down, locking up Davenport’s legs in his, bending back, and locking up Davenport’s head. There’s a decided groan from the crowd, and Davenport is wincing. “Well, this is something new,” Pete says simply. “Hm. Submission wrestling. How droll.” Fury keeps the pressure on, but Davenport will not be denied. He stretches his arms... But can’t quite reach the ropes. He tries to dig into the mat with his fingers... And actually starts to make some progress. As he does, the fans start to get progressively louder... And louder... Fury tries to put more pressure on, but really can’t due to his positioning and lack of additional leverage possibilities... And slowly closer Davenport works... Reaching... Out... And... The ref calls for a break in the hold as Davenport manages to inch the fingers around the ropes. Fury extracts himself, and Davenport slowly works to his feet... Only to be met with another spinning heel kick which sags him against the ropes. “Davenport is still rusty, King.” “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” Fury grabs Davenport’s arm, and climbs up the turnbuckles to the top... Then starts walking along the top rope! Davenport is still somewhat dazed, not realizing what’s going on... “What’s this all about?” “Don’t know, King... But it could be ugly.” “For which guy?” “Both.” Fury stands in the middle of the rope, letting go of Davenports arm... And jumps out... Landing on Davenport’s shoulders... But there’s no twist to the huracanrana as Davenport catches Fury’s legs... *WHAM!!!* YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! ...And plants him with an ultra-vicious-looking powerbomb! “Oooooh, that looks like it hurt!” “Hoping so, Pete... Hoping so...” Davenport hooks the leg, going for the win... ONE! TWO!! ... ... ... THR... Fury lifts out! “How’d he do that?” “Who knows... I’d be more asking ‘why’, Pete...” Davenport hauls Fury to his feet, slinging him into the ropes and taking him over on the rebound into a nice, stiff suplex... YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! ...Bridged into a pin.. ONE! TWO!! ... ... ... THR... Fury again lifts out. “Damnit, why doesn’t he give up?” “I guess he’s got a little bit of fight left in him, King.” Fury is hauled up again, and slung again... But slides underneath the attempted clothesline by Davenport. Davenport gives chase, but Fury drops and rolls, catching Davenport in a drop-toe-hold... Momentum carries Davenport forward, and he winds up getting caught up in the second rope. Fury seems to see a chance, runs for the other rope, rebounds... Goes wide... Jumping through the bottom ropes... Grabbing on... Swinging around... And... *CRACK!* A hugely solid kick to the underside of Davenport’s jaw! “Holy...!” “Wow,” Pete blurts, simply and effectively. Davenport rolls back, but it’s merely reflex from the shot as Fury comes through the ropes, slides over, and hooks the leg... ONE! TWO!! ... ... ... THREE!!! *Ding ding DING!* BBBBBOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! The ref raises Fury’s hand in victory as Funyon announces. “The winner of the match... . CHRISSSSSTIANNNNN... FUUUUURYYYYY!!!” BBBBBOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! “Well... Not sure what to say, King.” “We’ll see what happens when Fury meets up with someone that’s not so rusty. But in the meanwhile, we’ll be back.” The picture fades from Fury exiting the ring to black... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
zyon 0 Report post Posted January 19, 2006 OOC: Comments are welcome, and for the more experience writers could someone point me in a direction on what may need to be improved on to win a big match since when it comes to the big matches (Johnson, Hawke) I always put together "a good showing" and I just want help on getting better. Also feel free to comment on the match in general, thanks. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A common SWF cameraman catches the full glory of a jam-packed Qwest Center located in the decently populated Omaha, Nebraska. That decent civilization seemingly has all arrived at one destination…LOCKDOWN! Tonight has been a night of rabid confusion followed by one of the strongest cards Lockdown has featured in months. Expecting the strict rule the energetic audience was quite bamboozled to hear and see particular actions that would not be viewed as Family Friendly. Case in point…one of the amazingly structured signs made by one of the SWF’s more die-hard fans. “FUCK FAMILY FRIENDLY TELEVISION!” Or in this case one of the SWF’s die-hard with a vengeance fans. “King, tonight has been…well an awkward night in SWF television.” Pete sugarcoats the latest Lockdown happenings. “Awkward? Are you kidding me, everyone from the SWF crew to Ced Ordonez has absolutely no clue what is going on. At one moment the family friendly rules are in affect, and the next they are not. I would like to take this opportunity to say they are not. And with that I would also like to say that the family friendly rules are the biggest piece of shi…” “KING! Can we please get to the wrestling since you know this is a wrestling show.” “Pete if this wasn’t the main event and the fact that wrestling events with one commentator tend to suck, I would probably smack you around while fiddling with my latest divorce papers. But since it is the main event and my all time favorite professor is in this match…I’ll let your attitude slide.” “Pfft…thanks. Anyway tonight has been an awesome night for wrestling especially with the Toru/JJ Johnson encounter from earlier tonight. However, the crowd has silently anticipating the Genesis rematch that some say stole the show. “That’s right, Pete. Tonight we have Jaw Hawke facing off against that punk Zyon. And the biggest injustice. Hawke only has to defend his International title while the spot monkey’s title is safe from Hawke’s talons.” “Perhaps, but no matter what secret injustices the SWF has behind closed doors the upcoming main event is sure to impress the fans here tonight.” And Funyon will start the final festivities. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! Tonight’s main event will have NO TIME LIMIT. NO COUNT OUTS. And NO DISQUALIFICATION!!!! To win a CANADIAN DEATHMATCH, one wrestler much get a grand total of a ten count. The total will only go up if a competitor picks up a fall of three or more!!!” Funyon introduces the rules of the SWF’s version of a Canadian Deathmatch. Struggling to not pop out of his tuxedo, Funyon takes a step back as the lights in the arena dim… “YEAHHHHH!” The crowd explodes as the explosively expensive Smarktron lights up. “I’M BORN!” “I’M ALIVE” “I BREATHE!!!” The crowd explodes as “Vitamin” plays over the astonishing PA system as the anticipation for the Genesis rematch continues to slowly build. Erupting with excitement the crowd leaps to their feet as the reigning Cruiserweight champion leaps through the pitch black curtain. “YEAAH!!” The fans echo as Zyon looks out into the thousands that corrupt the Qwest Center! Each person with a smile on their face screaming at their hero who looks to capture another piece of gold tonight. With the Cruiserweight title safely strapped around his waist, Zyon brushes the hair out of his excited eyes before sprinting down the entrance ramp slapping a few hands on the way. Leaping on to the ring apron, Zyon energetically flips into the ring dazzling some with his athletic ability. “Look at him King. Was there ever a time you looked so happy to just be competing like Zyon is?” “No…” King is quite cheery. “Vitamin” continues as Zyon unstraps his title before performing a quick head bang followed by the proud youth throwing his title into the air signaling to the world that he is the reigning Cruiserweight title. Zyon retreats back into a random corner as he awaits the man that beat him at Genesis. And he doesn’t have to wait long. Suddenly “Learn To Fly” plays as the crowd remain on their feet, but fire off a slightly different gesture toward the International champ that has yet to make his arrival. “BOOOO!” The crowd is relentless as a bright spotlight appears at the top of the ramp along with the figure of a rugged veteran. The Dean saunters down the ramp dressed in his glossy purple and blue robe. Focused on the challenge at hand, Hawke ignores the envious crowd that chooses to jeer the respected technician. “Now this Pete is a true champion. Yeah the crowd may hate this man with a passion, but they have no choice, but to respect this man.” Hawke gets on the ring apron after making his way down the ramp. Arrogantly wiping of his shoes as he enter the ring, Hawke twirls showing off what a true technician looks like before disrobing to the pleasure of many females in the audience. The Dean folds his robe and hands it to an attractive ringside attendant before climbing on the turnbuckle and hoisting his International title in the air as “Learn to Fly” ends. “BOOOOO!” Funyon steps up to the plate once again as both Zyon and Hawke relax in their respective corners for what must be the beginning of BOXING STYLE INTROS!!! “The following match is for the SWF INTERNATIONAL TITLE! Introducing first the challenger…” “YEAAAAAHHHHH!” The crowd explodes overpowering Funyon’s booming voice for a second before the expert announcer shouts into the microphone a little bit. “To my left weighing in tonight at 200 lbs, he hails from ELKHART, INDIANA. He is the current SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION. He is the Unique Youth ZYON!!!!” Funyon shouts as the accentric crowd shouts right back in the forms of cheer and respectable comments. Zyon steps out and takes a slightly arrogant bow toward his opponent before taking a step back, adjusting the title located over his shoulder. “And to my right, the champion. Weighing in tonight at 215 lbs, he hails from the Hall of Fame City CLEVELAND, OHIO. He is the reigning INTERNATIONAL CHAMPION. He is the Dean of Professional Wrestling, he is JAY HAWKE!!!!” The proud champion emerges from his corner and once again hoists the title he has made his in the air. Both champions hand their respective titles to the beautiful ring attendant before getting into the mode. What mode you ask? The mode every athlete has when they know that the time has come to step up their game. A time where the lines of good and evil are blurred, a time where entertainment and skill reigns supreme. In other words it’s Hawke vs. Zyon part two. “I’m beginning to get goosebumps. The reaction from the Omaha fateful is enough to excite all the on lookers.” “I hate to say it, but I agree. These two tore the house down last time they met, this time they may leave a city in rubble.” The Main Event referee senior official Nick Soapdish glares at both men before looking out into the riotous crowd. This.is.insane. Ding! Ding! Ding! “YEAHHHH!” The audience roars as Zyon energetically hops from his corner, while the technical master chooses to slowly circle the ring. Neither man takes their eyes off the other until Hawke looks to play off of history…he is a Dean after all… …And extends his hand. “Normally I would say for Hawke to go to hell, but Zyon and the Dean did shake hands at the end of their last match.” Pete has a good memory. Zyon pauses his hyperactive movements as the crowd shouts a bunch of noise. “Don’t do it!!!” That would be what the noise translates into. Zyon loves the crowd, but sometimes a man has got to do what a man has got to do…or something like that. The youth also extends his hand and latches on to Hawke’s. “CRACK!!!” Well that didn’t take long. “Hawke immediately shows his true colors. He is still the same dastardly bastard that captured the title months ago.” “Hey he’s at least an honest dastardly bastard though.” “Kinda like you, right King. “Exactly.” Zyon rubs his face after a flattening forearm struck the youth while he was defenseless. Determined, Zyon charges the retreating Hawke who has a wide grin the size of the Great Wall of China. Ignoring the possible effects of his action, Zyon finds himself hooked by Hawke as he gets thrown to the mat with a hip toss. Quickly, the youth rises back to his feet and stumbles into another hip toss. Agitated and obviously going away from any form of strategy he created before the match, Zyon rapidly rises to his feet and attempts a wild clothesline. Hawke the veteran of the two easily ducks and applies a reverse waist lock on the youngster. Hawke transitions the waist lock into a back drop attempt, but the resourceful Cruiserweight champion flips back to his feet. Understanding he has the drop on the champion, Zyon reaches forward only to fall into ANOTHER hip toss!!! “This is what I like to call a schooling, Pete.” Zyon takes a moment to clutch his back before kipping up to his feet…and stalling. Hawke stuns the audience with his arrogance as he gives his dangerous opponent a golf clap, which is far more insulting than a regular clap. ”BOOOOO!!!” The crowd roars as Zyon’s eyebrow twitches before he once again charges forward. Sprinting the youth runs up to a ready and willing Hawke…before running past him??? Shocked at the latest turn of events Hawke turns his head just in time to see Zyon springboard off the middle rope before throwing a horizontal roundhouse with the far leg! Hawke looks for the counters, but can only manage a defense as he puts both arms in front of his face. “CRACK!!!!” The kick deflects off of Hawke’s arms, but the impact was enough to knock the International champ off balance for a second. A second is all Zyon needs as the youth drops to one knee using the other leg to sweep the staggering Hawke off of his currently unsure feet. Fluidly, Zyon rises to his feet before leaping into the air and crushing Hawke with a standing flipping senton back splash!! The International champ gasps for air as Zyon immediately exits out to the ring apron…as Hawke rolls far away before rising to his feet. “BOOOO!” “What were you saying about a schooling, King?” “Zyon just finished his free hour. Class will be in session shortly.” King retorts. Zyon enters the ring by conventional means as Hawke looks to be a little flustered after the latest exchange. Zyon mocks the Dean of Professional Wrestling by performing a golf clap of his own. “YEEEEEEAAAHHH!” The crowd cheers one of their favorites as Hawke calmly rises back to his feet. Smiling the Dean extends his hand again, this time for a test of strength??? Imagine Hawke’s surprise when Zyon ignores the gesture and charges this opponent before delivering a shoulder tackle that drops the cocky Cleveland native. Hawke pulls himself back to his feet just as Zyon bounces off the far ropes. The Dean grabs the charging Zyon, and spins him around in a dazzling tilt a whirl, but somewhere in the wrestling storm Zyon latches on to Hawke’s arm and takes him to the mat with a modified arm drag. Both men rise to their feet as Hawke transforms into the aggressor and sprints toward the Unique Youth who takes a powerful step before leaping into the air with a leapfrog! Both men once again find themselves on their feet, and their back turned to one another. In a moment of duo desperation both turn and throw a forearm. “Crack!” Well Zyon threw a forearm. Hawke went away from his usual game plan and fired off a closed right hand that jacked the youth’s jaw. Hawke once again charges, and this time is successful with a clothesline that drops Zyon to the mat. Without a moment of hesitation, Hawke drops on top of Zyon and begins to take a page out of stablemate JJ Johnson’s book as he drops bombs on Zyon’s face!! “You have to admit King, this is so unlike Hawke. In the early going he has resorted to brawling…which is flat out weird.” Pete points out the obvious. With his options numbered to one the youth puts both arms up as the technicians’ punches begin to have little effect. However, in Hawke’s case they had infinite effect as he going into phase two of his plan. Hawke rolls to the left side of Zyon shocking the youth by wrapping his legs around the youth’s left arm and pulling back with his hands!!! “HA! See Pete even when brawling Hawke has ways of breaking out the technical work as shown with this juji gatame.” Who knew King could pronounce juji gatame? Zyon begins to feel the pressure of pain dissect into his left arm as he attempts to thread his free arm through in a desperate attempt to break the hold. Sadly, the attempt is a definite no go, so the youth has to come up with a different plan. And Hawke? “C’mon Zarquon!!!” “I thought Zyon had his respect?” “I’m guessing he does. But a spot monkey is just a spot monkey, he’s not special.” Hawke’s taunting fuels Zyon to break free as he places both feet on the mat causing him to bridge up, actually putting more pressure on his wounded arm area. “Grr.” Zyon grinds his teeth as he transitions from the bridge to his knees due to his ability to roll backward. Zyon’s arm is torqued in an awkward way, as many are unsure rather Zyon’s new position has lessened or added to the pressure being shot through his arm. The youth doesn’t waste any time as he leans to the right pinning Hawke’s shoulder to the mat with a pin attempt. ONE… TWO…Kick off. Hawke places both feet under Zyon’s armpit area before pushing the youth away, freeing said youngster from the dangerous juji gatame. Zyon takes a moment to clutch his shoulder as Hawke strides toward his wounded competitor… “SMACK!!!!” “WHOOOOO!” …And right into a stinging chop. Hawke grimaces as he clutches his chest. Zyon takes the opportunity to kick Hawke in the gut before locking the technician down with a front face lock. Once again though Hawke refuses to give Zyon the advantage as the amateur wrestler trips Zyon to the mat with a double-legged takedown! Hawke however is still trapped in the front face lock, but being the pro that he is the International champ also has a solution to that problem. Using his hands, Hawke throws his lower body into the air vertically looking to drive his knees into the open sternum of his opponent. Blinded by Hawke’s magnificent upper body, Zyon doesn’t notice Hawke’s plan before it is too late. “SMASH!!!” “Gah!” Zyon gasps as Hawke delivers a sharp knee to the youth’s gut. Like a slave during Lincoln’s reign as champion over America, Hawke was free and Zyon was hurting. Hawke rises back to a vertical base before “helping” Zyon back to his feet via pulling of the hair. Hawke twists Zyon’s left arm before forcefully pulling the youth toward his shoulder. The two competitors collide with Zyon’s wounded shoulder going into Hawke’s magnificent frame. “CRUSH!” The International champion doesn’t stop there as he repeats the process once more. “CRUSH!” Eh what hell. How about another one for the road. “CR..ACK??” Zyon though will have no of it as he blasts Hawke in the face with a forearm during the reel in portion of the maneuver. Stunned, Hawke clutches his face leaving himself open for Zyon who opts to bounce off the far ropes and leap backward. The youth wraps his legs around Hawke’s waist as he tries to roll through, but to no avail. The stunned International champion lifts Zyon into the air for a reverse power bomb, but Zyon instinctively wraps his arm around Hawke’s face before using the downward shift in momentum to finish the sequence out with a sit out bulldog!!!! “Beautiful counter by Zyon.” Pete praises. “Beautiful Rey Mysterio copycat by Zyon.” King complains. Zyon rises back to his feet as he takes the time to point to the top turnbuckle. “YEAHHHHHH!!!” Zyon receives the reaction he was gunning for as he saunters over toward the turnbuckle, and ascends them by grabbing on to the top rope and using the leverage to hop directly to the top rope. Patient and in firm control Zyon pauses as Hawke raggedly makes it to his feet noticing a flying object. Is it a bird? A plane? Some loser in blue spandex and a red cape? No…it’s Zyon performing a missile dropkick. “CRASH!!” And that’s Zyon missing the missile dropkick. Hawke was able to side step the high-risk maneuver leaving Zyon to crash to the mat, and more specifically smack the canvas with his face. The youth staggers back to his feet gripping at his face giving Hawke all the reasons in the world to take the initiative. Sprinting forward Hawke actually leaves his feet and attempts a cross body, but Zyon with improved ring awareness drops down using one of his right hand to pull the top rope down leaving Hawke to soar through the air like his last name details he can. The fans gasp as the International champ crashes into the unforgiving ground that is covered by little padding! “It seems Hawke has studied into the Lucha Libre style a little bit. The leap was dazzling, but I do sense a problem with the landing.” Pete shows that he can indeed be a smartass. Hawke clutches his stomach as he slowly rises back to his feet knowing that the spot monkey should be interrupting his rest any time now. And boy is he right. Inside the ring, Zyon rubs his wounded shoulder for a second before sprinting toward the far ropes and springing off them toward his destination. The Dean notices that Zyon has that wild look in his eye, and at this point there is only one way to tame the beast. Shocking his attacker, Hawke leaps on to the ring apron challenging the youth to change his strategy. When Zyon can’t stop himself Hawke attempts to take his head off with a momentous forearm. “CRRRSWISH!!!” The not so strategic youth decides at the last second to switch his strategy. Dodging the oncoming blow to his face, Zyon slides under the bottom rope before leaping straight back to the ring apron before Hawke can say “Damn.” Irritated the International champion throws a wild backhand that Zyon carefully dodges as one of his feet teeters from the ring apron. Leaving himself wide open, Hawke prepares for the worst as Zyon throws a balanced kick to his opponent’s sternum that lands!!! With his opponent stunned, Zyon wraps his arm over Hawke’s chest while hooking his leg behind the International champ’s!!! “It’s good to know that Zyon is taking advantage of the first lockdown with not only family friendly rules, but in this matches case…no rules at all!!!” King shouts. The crowd prepares the “Holy Shit” chants as Zyon takes a moment to situate himself before pulling back with a DECLINE FROM THE RING APRON…or not! Hawke refuses to have his face obliterated as he grips the top rope with his far arm saving himself from the impact… …And Zyon!! “CRASH!!!” The youth flies off the ring apron and crashes into the safety barrier…how ironic. A barrier made for safety leads to immense pain as Zyon’s head snaps backward on impact!! The Cruiserweight champion finds himself defenseless while in a sitting position trying to regain full consciousness as apart from the blurred vision he is stuck with at the moment. However, Zyon’s blurred vision sees a distorted figure leaping his way and suddenly there is no feeling but a sharp pain in his left shoulder! Ringside eyewitnesses claim with a gasp that Hawke leaped off the ring apron and placed a perfect knee to Zyon’s shoulder while the youth was dazed. Relentless, the Dean of Professional Wrestling forces Zyon back to his feet as he nonchalantly shoves Zyon back into the ring and away from the possible hardcore environment. “Let’s Go Zyon!!” The crowd shouts as both men start on their feet. Hawke takes advantage of a slowed Zyon by locking up with the youth. For a short amount of time both men struggle for position until Hawke easily wraps Zyon in a standing wristlock. The youth immediately rolls forward giving Hawke the chance to read his opponent like a book as he leg drops Zyon’s left arm. Scissoring the arm, Hawke pulls in random directions hoping for snap, crackle, or pop. The youth between grinding his teeth and grunting finds a way to bring his legs up and scissor Hawke’s head to the mat!!! “YEAHHH!” The crowd cheers as Zyon attempts to choke the life out of Hawke with his legs. The technician uses his strength advantage to break Zyon’s death grip before rolling away from the Unique Youth. Standing, Zyon bounces off the rope just as Hawke rises to his feet wrapping the International champ in a running bulldog attempt, but Hawke tosses the rookie off into the ropes. Blindly, the youth bounces off the ropes with his back exposed which couldn’t make the opportunistic champion happier. Ready and willing to trap the youth in a grapple Hawke moves in for the kill as Zyon flips backwards unleashing a kick to Hawke’s face!!!! “Pele’ Kick!!!” Pete shills. Zyon makes it back to his feet and rushes up on the stunned Hawke who has dropped to one knee clutching his face. The youth realizes Hawke is vulnerable as he dead lifts Hawke into the air with a scoop, which very well could lead to the Aero Driver!! Hawke though floats over and locks the Cruiserweight champion down with a reverse face lock. The bottom drops out for Zyon as Hawke spikes Zyon’s left shoulder blade into his knee with modified reverse DDT. The Cruiserweight champion clutches his shoulder area as Hawke drops on his opponent for the cover, hooking the leg. ONE… TWO…kickout. Zyon escapes Hawke’s chance for points leaving the Dean to try something else. Lifting Zyon to his feet, Hawke grapples the youth’s left arm and Irish whips him into the ropes. Zyon bounces off and dodges a leg lariat attempts before springing off the far ropes. Hawke turns to face Zyon ready for what offensive maneuver fate brings his way. Fate along with Zyon confuses the technical master as Zyon slides under Hawke’s open legs instead of attempting a strike on a defenseless champion. “HAWKE!” King shouts. Suddenly, everything becomes clear; as the International champion is frightened to realize that he finds himself in a pump handle position and it dawns on the champ that his arm was grabbed during that insanely quick sequence. Zyon moving at a lightning pace hooks Hawke’s head with one arm before lifting his trapped arm with the other. The International champ notices that all the fans at ringside are frowning… …Then he realizes that he is upside down. “CRRRRAAAAACCCCCKKKK!!!” Zyon spikes Hawke into the mat with the deadly 911 AERO DRIVVVAAA!!! Hawke is mostly motionless apart from the minor spasm. Zyon clutches his left shoulder as he falls on to Hawke. ONE!!!! TWO!!!! THREEEE!!! FOUR!!!!! FI…shoulder up! Hawke either weakly gets a shoulder up or has a mighty spasm that bumps Zyon off the lateral press. “ZYON LEADS FOUR TO ZERO!!!” Funyon booms from ringside while Zyon exits to the ring apron. Hawke looks like road kill with a pulse so the least the youth can do is put him out of his misery. Springboarding into the air Zyon sits out while in the atmosphere looking to drop the dime on Hawke’s face. However, the prided villain rolls out of the way leaving Zyon to crash to the canvas ass first!!! Clutching his lower back, Zyon staggers to his feet as Hawke pushes himself to his. Hurting from his mistake Zyon continues to put the pressure on Hawke with a clothesline attempts. Dodging isn’t an option as the Dean of Professional Wrestling latches on to his opponent’s arm before dropping backward with a single arm DDT!!! “GAH!” Zyon shouts as his left arm snaps backward in an unorthodox angle. Even through the agonizing pain Zyon is still mentally capable to roll away from Hawke who usually locks on a fujiwara armbar after the move. The youth pulls himself to his feet using one arm before turning into a Yakuza kick performed by the charging Hawke that lands FLUSH…into the youth’s shoulder. Zyon staggers backward grimacing as a glossy eyed Hawke puts a boot to the youth’s gut. A teacher of the game, Hawke places Zyon in a front face lock before arrogantly giving the crowd some shake, rattle, and roll action before dropping Zyon with a swinging neck breaker followed by the cover. ONE… TWO… THR…kickout. “Hawke remains scoreless.” Pete reminds the home viewers. “Big deal. Zyon’s lead is minor in the big picture. I guarantee you Hawke will not only avoid the shutout but he’ll win. Do you hear me “Iwasshutoutallmylife” Pete!” King is a bit hostile as is the audience in the Qwest Center as they realize that Zyon is six counts away from winning the title. Unlike Michael Jackson or R. Kelly who are six counts away from jail time. Hawke tries to recapture the control he held earlier, and more importantly the control he held on Zyon in their previous meeting. As both men flounder while on their feet, Hawke latches on to Zyon and attempts to take him over with a Northern lights suplex. A sudden downshift occurs as Zyon parachutes down to the mat feet first before pulling downward with a DDT attempt. With the pace picking up Hawke stands back up before Zyon can spike him to the mat. Once again Hawke hoists Zyon into the air, but this time sets him innocently up on the top turnbuckle. Looking for a big time move Hawke tries to split away from Zyon’s grip, but in a moment that only Zyon can create the youth spins off the ropes and drops the International champ with a tornado DDT!!!! “CLAP CLAP CLAP” The audience gives the exciting competitors a standing ovation as Zyon quickly rises to his feet and leaps to the middle rope before jumping on to the top rope. In what can only be described as destruction in motion the youth drops down with a double jump split legged moonsault causing the youth to spring into the air and land cleanly on Hawke!!! “He calls that Dusk. Another big move from Zyon.” ONE… TWO… THREE!!!! FOU…foot on the rope. “YEAAAHHH!” “ZYON LEADS SEVEN TO ZERO!!! Funyon once again booms, as Zyon is a regular three count away from victory!! Zyon with all the momentum heading his way lifts Hawke to his spaghetti legs before dropping the current International champ with a weak scoop slam if you can call it that. It more looked like Zyon lifted Hawke into the air before dropping him on his back as his shoulder gave out. Zyon takes a brief moment to hide his weakness as he looks out into the standing crowd before making a throat slicing gesture! “He has to be going for the Final Flash!” The DOGGAH would be right as Zyon ascends the turnbuckle. Taking a deep breath Zyon IS SHOCKED TO SEE HAWKE SPRINT UP THE TURNBUCKLE!!!! Zyon’s eyes bulge as Hawke grapples the youth and takes him down with a top rope belly to belly superplex…oh yeah just like Kool Aid!!! “SEE PETE! That is what happens when you count Hawke out. COVER HIM!” King demands, and Hawke obliges as he crawls over to the downed youth. Fragile the International champion plops on to Zyon praying for at least a three count. ONE… TWO… THREE…NO!!! Dazed from being dropped on his head, Hawke slams the mat with his fist enraged from being disallowed from winning the match. Angered, Hawke has lost all hope for a technical wrasslin’ match as he lifts Zyon to his feet while looking out into the on the edge of their seat audience. “CRACK!!!” With Hawke’s attention diverted Zyon spins into the air with a powerful European uppercut that sends the International champ backward and to the outside. Staggering around like on a drunken binge the longest reigning champ in the SWF orders the massive Funyon to move. While Hawke verbally abuses Funyon, Zyon runs forward diving between the ropes with a suicide dive attempt… “CRRRRRRAAAACCCKKKKK…DAMN!!” “OOOOOOOO!” The fans echo as Zyon falls to the floor limp as Hawke chalantly tosses a dented chair toward Funyon. Beaten and bruised the cocky champ looks back toward the announcer and with a grin mutters “Thanks.” The Dean of Hardcore Wrestling uses most of what is left of his strength to force Zyon back to an assisted vertical base before rolling the unconscious youth into the ring. Wasting no time even though technically he wasted time jawing with Funyon the crisp competitor covers the sometimes-sloppy competitor. ONE!!!! TWO!!! THREE!!!! FOUR!!!! FIVE!!!! SIX!!!! SEVEN!!!!!! EIGHT!!!! “He could win it right here Doggah!” NINE!!!! TE…foot on the rope. “YEEEEEAAAAHHH!! The crowd explodes as Zyon’s foot sets effortlessly on the bottom rope as his wounded fate is currently in Hawke’s hands. “Remember King, Hawke still has to sustain at least a three count to win the match.” Pete informs the uninformed. “JAY HAWKE LEADS NINE TO SEVEN!!!!” A chairless Funyon announces as Hawke carefully forces Zyon back to his unsure feet. Desperate like a wounded coyote, Hawke tosses the youth toward into the top turnbuckle left shoulder first. “Gah!” The youth grimaces as he drops to one. The deadly champion follows Zyon placing a brutal knee to his opponent’s head causing a slight whiplash effect. Glossy eyed Zyon finds himself on his feet again as a blurry group of figures cheer his name. “Let’s GO Zyon!!” The words pass through one ear and out the other as Hawke grabs on to Zyon’s left arm before ascending to the second turnbuckle. A slight gasp is heard from the Nebraska natives in the audience as Hawke spins off with a tornado single armed DDT tearing Zyon’s shoulder to pieces. Oh and the vengeful technician doesn’t stop there as he immediately locks on the fujiwara armbar. The youth squirms around on the mat trying to get free as Hawke continue to yank upward. “C’MON ZARQUAN!!!!” Hawke taunts before applying a last bit of pressure before releasing the Unique Youth from his painful prison. In full control the veteran forces Zyon to his feet by his sweat soaked hair before ripping his shirt off pleasing most of the female audience… “SMACK!!!” “WHOOOO…oh god that must hurt.” …Before bleeding their ears from the blistering chop. Zyon clutches his chest allowing Hawke to easily scoop the youth into the air with little fight before spiking him down with a shoulder breaker. Hawke hopes for a fatigue induced miracle as he goes for the cover. ONE… TWO… TH…kickout. Zyon continues to fight the struggle as Hawke lifts the kid back to his feet before locking him in a front face lock. Looking to drop Zyon to the mat with his version of the DDT, Hawke finds himself being forced backward toward the turnbuckle. Zyon’s wild legs move like a hill climber before driving Hawke into the turnbuckle!!!! “He’s still in this King!” Pete shills as Zyon uses one arm to clobber the International champ with right forearms, closed fists, and maybe even elbows. Hawke’s head rocks side to side before Zyon Irish whips him into the opposite turnbuckle. Spotty instincts kicking in, Zyon charges full speed as he dives toward Hawke looking to cut the International champ. In what some describe as slow motion, Hawke averts the oncoming collision by dropping to the side leaving Zyon to smack the unforgiving ring post…with his left shoulder. “Pete you were saying?” King grins from ear to ear caused by the sick echo of shoulder on steel. Zyon slowly pulls himself from the ring post leaving Hawke to turn the youth face forward locking him in a front face lock dropping the youth with a DDT!!!! Hawke obviously goes for the cover… ONE… TWO… THR…shoulder up. Relentless the wrestling mechanic known as Jay Hawke whips Zyon into the ropes after lifting him back to his wobbly feet NOT EXPECTING A HALF MOON COUNTER!!! “Zyon’s version of the quebrada.” Pete calls it as Zyon soars through the air landing directly behind a confused International champion. The youth locks in a reverse face lock before attempting to spin around with his version of a stunner. However, Hawke shocks the audience by countering the Wicked Cutter into a hammerlock followed by a cross face!!! “WING SPAN!!!” “WING SPAN!!!” Both announcers shill as Zyon’s eyes grow wide looking half desperate and have scared. His vision begins to blur and everything becomes mute as Hawke continues to tighten the hold with little to no fight… …And then it happens. “TAP TAP TAP!!!!” The youth taps with his scissored arm, but none of that matters…there are no submissions. “I’m loving this, punish that fool.” King demands. Gradually, Zyon’s eyes become a blank stare of nothingness as he becomes a vegetable. Visually pleased with himself, Hawke releases the hold as he drags his opponent’s carcass toward the turnbuckle. “I’m having brilliant flashbacks of their Genesis match. Could we be seeing the HAWKE SWOOP??” King sure is excited. Hawke begins to ascend the top rope backward and when he reaches his destination he looks back to see where he needs to land… …He must be perfect… …And he must be frightened!? Hawke turns to see ZYON IN HIS FACE after the youth bolted up the top rope. Obviously in pain, but far from looking brain dead. “King, did Zyon act his way out of the Wing Span?” “Are you kidding me? He’s not that smart.” King denies the truth. Zyon mimics JJ Johnson as he puts Hawke in a FULL NELSON!! Flashbacks of the SUPER DRAGON SUPLEX are going through the youth’s mind until he suddenly feels his grip destroyed by Hawke’s superior strength. Well that puts a damper on things. Turning, Hawke blasts Zyon with a forearm knocking the youth off the turnbuckle. Cautiously, Hawke turns to face Zyon who is no longer standing on the canvas, but is once again IN HAWKE’S FACE! Absolutely shocked, Hawke attempts to fire off another forearm, but Zyon scoops Hawke with his right arm using his dead left arm as a simple balance…before leaping backward… OH!!!! MY!!! GOD!!! Zyon drills Hawke into the mat with a SUPER AEROOOO DRIVVAAAA!!!! “OHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!” The crowd mutters as Zyon grabs the International champ’s legs cradling them away from the ropes… ONE!!!! TWO!!! You can count to One Hundred if you want. THREE!!!!! “YEAHHHH!” “THE WINNER WITH THE FINAL SCORE OF 10 TO 9 AND NEEEEEEW SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPION…THE UNIQUE YOUTH ZYON!!!!” Funyon booms as “Vitamin” plays over the PA, but nobody can here it anyway. “LISTEN TO THE REACTION!!!!” Pete is forced to yell. “…What a match.” King whispers. “Looking back at Genesis Hawke used a shoulder breaker to keep Zyon down for the Hawke Swoop, but his time Hawke got cocky and figured Zyon was a vegetable after the Wing Span.” Good reporting by Pete. Referee Nick Soapdish hands Zyon his new title as the Unique Youth “pulled a Zyon” surprising everyone. Half conscious, Zyon grips the International title like life itself before looking out into the audience…then staring at the unconscious Hawke. Numerous drops to the head tends to knock people out…even the greats. Family Friendly rules are dead and buried, but Zyon obeys them for one last time, not because he has to… …But because he wants to. Zyon repays the respectful gesture from Jay Hawke at Genesis by shaking the limp hand of the former champion. Clutching his shoulder, Zyon exits the ring after doing the respect thing. “YEAHHHHHHH!” The crowd continues to scream as Zyon makes his exit with the Cruiserweight title and International title over his right shoulder since his left shoulder is dead… …But it was only one sacrifice of many that was used to dethrone the champ, and it was worth it. FADE TO BLACK Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
