ClusterFuck Losing Matches

[Angel_Grace_Blue 0]

Considering that I only started to write either Friday or Saturday, and shit, I wasn't even booked, this wasn't too bad, I guess, up until the end where I just rushed everything.

 

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Another video for the main event between El Luchadore Magnifico and JJ Johnson finishes up, proclaiming that, among US fans, the winner will still be an unwashed foreigner that uses slang words incorrectly, and the acne-wracked body of Johnathan Taylor Thomas moves a camera to focus on the Suicide King and Longdogger Pete.

 

"It's time, it's time! Clusterfuck time, that is!" Pete exclaims.

 

"No, it's Miller time!" King slurs before downing another brew.

 

"No, King, it's time for the twenty-person Clusterfuck," Pete corrects.

 

"Well, I'm drunk, and your mother is a whore, so what difference does it make?" King asks.

 

Before Peter has a chance to retort, the lights increase in intensity and Lamb of God's "Black Label" roars over the speakers.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for the Clusterfuck! Introducing first, from Hollywood, California, Spike Jenny...Jenny...JENK-ins!" Funyon sputters.

 

Spike heads down to the ring, focused on the imposing task at hand. Jenkins slides into the ring and waits for the second entrant.

 

Bouncing Souls' "Ole" blares and out walks the masked Laberinto.

 

"And now, from Tocula, Mexico, Laberinto!" Funyon exclaims.

 

The luchador hops into the ring and Vlade Divac flips over the giant hour (In reality a two minute) glass and the match begins.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Immediately, the bigger Jenkins levels Laberinto with a lariat and starts stomping away at the less-talented Mexican wrestler.

 

"Looks like Spike wants to take care of Laberinto early on," Pete notes.

 

"And it looks like some rat bastard theif has stolen my pants!" King exclaims, and sure enough, it appears that he's converted to the First Church of NTD.

 

Jenkins picks Laberinto up and attempts to toss the luchador over the top, but the smaller man wheels around, burying his knee in Spike's gut. Laberinto blasts 'Hollywood' with a kick to the face and sends him reeling with a knife edged chop to Spike's chest. Laberinto grabs hold of Jenkins's arm and tries to force Spike to the ropes, but 'Hollywood' stands his ground. Spike whips out with his free arm and cracks Laberinto in the jaw with a shotei. A second palm strike uppercut forces the luchador to release his grip and allows Jenkins to whip the Mexican into the ropes. 'Hollywood' steps in and nails him with a superkick, instantly dropping Laberinto.

 

"There goes the Last Dance from Jenkins! He might be able to dump Laberinto over the top rope right now."

 

"And I'm going to puke in your shoes in a second."

 

"Once again, insightful commentary from the Suicide King," Pete mutters.

 

Spike pulls Laberinto off the mat and gets smacked with a forearm. Spike fires back with a knee to the gut and grabs the smaller man around his chest. Jenkins drops down, driving Laberinto's throat into Spike's shoulder. 'Hollywood' races for the ropes, bounces back and nails Laberinto in the back of the head.

 

"The Minor Threat followed up with a Dangerous Wizard! Jenkins has a perfect opportunity to eliminate the rookie Laberinto and rest until the next contestant enters, which should be shortly," Pete says.

 

"Mr. Beam, where have you been? Jack Daniels has been waiting in my stomach for you for quite some time!" King exclaims before downing the better part of a bottle of whiskey.

 

Jenkins hauls Laberinto off his feet, grabs him by the back of the head, and rushes to the ropes. However, the little guy clamps on to the cables, prompting Spike to lay into him with kicks.

 

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

 

Vlade Divac rings a bell and flips over the two minute glass as "Wollt Ihr Das Bett In Flammen Sehen?" by Rammstein blares and 'The Rage' Jason Von Dierch hauls ass down the ramp. Jason hops onto the apron and blasts Jenkins with a jab before climbing betwixt the ropes. Jason swings on 'Hollywood', but the straight-edger ducks out of the way. Von Dierch dives for Spike, but eats a knee for his troubles.

 

"And now 'The Rage' Jason Von Dierch joins the fray, which could either make things easier or more difficult depending on how Spike Jenkins and Laberinto play this," Longdogger points out.

 

"Well, it's been my experience that all Germanians should be kicked in the junk. You know, for sinking the Apollo."

 

Laberinto risks a backwards glance then springs onto the middle rope before flipping backwards. He snares Von Dierch on the way down with a front facelock, and spikes 'The Rage' with a DDT. Jenkins pounces on the downed Von Dierch and begins stomping away, joined shortly by Laberinto. 'Hollywood' and his new-found partner pull Jason to his feet and whip him into the ropes. 'The Rage' bounces off and launches himself at Spike and Laberinto, taking both men down with a double clothesline. Laberinto is first up and Von Dierch knocks him back down with a lariat. Jenkins gets up, charges Jason, and both men get taken out with lariats Jason rises, but is sent back to the mat from a Laberinto dropkick. Jenkins gets up rushes towards Laberinto and yanks him down with a neckbreaker.

 

"Phantom Neckbreaker on Laberinto from Spike Jenkins, and it looks like their partnership is very short-lived," Pete states.

 

"I'm going to kill a tuba!" King shouts.

 

Spike pulls Laberinto up and smacks him with a shotei. 'Hollywood' spins the Mexican labyrinth around and slaps on a reverse front facelock. However, before he can finish the Clean Living, Jason Von Dierch bull rushes him and applies a rear waistlock. 'The Rage' pops his hips and sends Jenkins to the mat with a German suplex.

 

"Jenkins almost hit the Clean Living, but Jason Von Dierch with a German suplex, which, in his land, is just called a suplex," Pete states.

 

"Well, why don't you whore your face?" King inquires. "You face whore."

 

BONG! BONG! BONG!

 

Divac bangs a gong and flips the glass while Cypress Hill's "How I Could Just Kill A Man" rips over the public address system, prompting the arrival of Stryke. The Australian heads down the ramp and slides in the ring, cracking Laberinto in the jaw with a forearm. Stryke quickly snares Laberinto around the head and drops him to the mat. Stryke pops up after the DDT and right into a quick belly-to-belly suplex from Jason Von Dierch. 'The Rage' slides forward and starts raining down punches on Stryke's face. Spike Jenkins quickly puts and end to the attack, though, with a kick to the chest. 'Hollywood' blasts Von Dierch again in the chest, takes a step back, and nails him in the head.

 

"Spike Jenkins saved Stryke there with that kick combination. With four men in the ring now, there's a good chance for them to just pair off, but anything can happen in a Clusterfuck match," Pete says.

 

"I will rape your panda for a box of sand," King mumbles.

 

"I'm just glad we're on Pay-Per-View," Longdogger mutters.

 

Laberinto climbs to his feet runs at Jenkins and flies through the air, knocking 'Hollywood' down with a forearm smash. Laberinto pops to his feet, turns around and barely dodges a left hook from Jason Von Dierch. Laberinto snaps off a kick but 'The Rage' fires back with an uppercut. Jason swiftly slips behind the luchador, yanks on his mask, and drives him into the mat with a reverse DDT. 'The Rage' pulls Laberinto back up and slaps on a full nelson before shooting the Mexican over his head with a suplex. Von Dierch climbs to his feet but crumples after an enziguiri from Stryke.

 

"Nice jumping enziguiri from Stryke to keep 'The Rage' in check."

 

"Did you steal my hands?" King asks. "Cause, I can't feel them right now."

 

Jenkins gets to his feet and instantly find Stryke racing towards him. Spike crouches down, scoops the Aussie off the mat and drops him throat-first across the top rope.

 

"Hot shot from Spike Jenkins, but he could have just eliminated Stryke right there! Big mistake from 'Hollywood'."

 

"No, The Pink Panther remake is a big mistake from Hollywood. Fuckin' Peter Sellers is classic!" King yells.

 

Spike drops Stryke with a quick DDT, but can't focus on him as Laberinto is on his feet. Jenkins charges and nails the luchador with a spinning elbow, sending him into the ropes.

 

BAAA! BAAA! BAAA!

 

Vlade boots a nearby goat in the stomach and flips the two minute glass as Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer" blasts over the speakers. Manson marches down the ramp just as 'Hollywood' speeds towards Laberinto and boots him over the top rope.

 

#####

Name: Laberinto

Time Entered: 0:00

Time Eliminated: 6:03

Eliminated By: Spike Jenkins

Eliminations: None

#####

 

"Roaring elbow-Yakuza kick combination from Spike Jenkins to get himself the first elimination of the night. However, we all know that it comes down to who gets the last elimination that counts," Pete says.

 

Manson grabs Laberinto by the neck and slams him into the crowd barricade before entering the ring. Jenkins fires off a shotei into Manson's face, but the Stampede cracks 'Hollywood' with a headbutt. Manson nails Spike with an elbow and follows that up with a swift boot to the stomach. Jenkins doubles up, allowing the Raging Bull to hoist Spike off the mat and slam him with a powerbomb. Manson spins around and right into a lariat from 'The Rage'. Von Dierch dives for the Stampede's legs, looking for a double leg takedown, but Manson picks Jason up and drops down.

 

"He hasn't even been in the ring for a minute, but already Manson is cleaning house! He made short work of Spike Jenkins with a powerbomb, and then Jason Von Dierch with a backbreaker. Of course, he's yet to eliminate anyone, but if he keeps up this pace, he'll be all alone in the ring and waiting for the next entrant," Pete says.

 

"Fuckin' Geraniums..."

 

Manson picks Jason off the mat and looks to dump him over the top, but is thwarted in the form of a double axhandle from Stryke. The Raging Bull whips around and blasts Stryke with a right hand, but the Australian fires back. Manson nails Stryke with an elbow, but he answers with one of his own. Manson punches Stryke in the face, but gets a headbutt in return.

 

"Looks like a slugfest is developing between Stryke and Manson, but I don't think that Stryke can last much longer against the Stampede. To be concise, Stryke can't trade strikes with Manson."

 

"Fine, then let me do it!" King shouts and begins trying to climb over the announcers' table. However, Longdogger Pete quickly pulls him back into his seat.

 

Manson seems to be growing tired of this duel and fires off a stiff uppercut. Stryke stumbles backwards and gets smacked with a running knee. Before Manson can attempt to toss Stryke over the top, Spike Jenkins kicks the Raging Bull in the knee. Manson swings for Spike's head, but the cruiser ducks out of the way. The Raging Bull spins, and, much like a bull, charges 'Hollywood', only to get cut down with a soccer tackle.

 

CLANK!

 

The sound of Vlade missing a clutch free throw off the front of the rim echoes throughout the building, but it is quickly replaced with the Black Eyed Peas' "Anxiety", prompting Christian Fury to ramble down to the ring. Fury hops in and kicks 'Hollywood' in the face. Spike lashes out with a kick of his own, but both men are quickly taken down by a Stryke flying tackle. The Aussie climbs to his feet, but instantly finds himself being choked out by Jason Von Dierch.

 

"Iron Curtain from 'the Rage'! He's got that cinched in tight, and were this a regular match, I don't think Stryke would last much longer!" Pete shills.

 

"There is no chowder to be found in Pittsburgh," King adds between shots of gin.

 

Stryke slowly falls backwards, sandwiching Jason Von Dierch between himself and the mat. This leaves his torso completely open to a flurry of stomps from Manson. Fury gets to his feet and dropkicks the Raging Bull in the back. Manson turns to face the Fury and rocks him with a punch. The Stampede knees Christian in the groin, slaps on a front facelock, and delivers a spinning Fisherman's suplex.

 

"Moss Covered Three Handled Family Credenza from Manson!"

 

"And a White Russian for me!"

 

'The Rage', realizing he can't win via submission yet, pushes Stryke away and gets to his feet, only to become engaged in a punching battle with 'the Raging Bull'. The larger Manson quickly overpowers Von Dierch and shoots him towards the ropes, but Jason collides with a rising Spike Jenkins. Von Dierch slowly climbs back to his feet, only to nearly be decapitated by a lariat from Manson, sending 'the Rage' over the top rope and out of the match.

 

#####

Name: "The Rage" Jason Von Dierch

Time Entered: 2:00

Time Eliminated: 9:39

Eliminated By: Manson

Eliminations: None

#####

 

"And Jason Von Dierch is gone after that lariat from Manson!" Longdogger shouts.

 

"Fuck yeah! Boo Germs!" King yells.

 

Spike, still on the mat, kicks Manson in the back of the knee, allowing Christian Fury to drop the Stampede with a DDT. Fury turns his attention on the now standing Jenkins, and the two cruisers begin trading blows before the fresher Fury knocks 'Hollywood' down with a spinning heel kick.

 

KA-BLAMO!

 

The sound of Vlade shooting Franz Ferdinand bassist Robert Hardy rings out but is quickly replaced with some crazy-ass robot music and Ghost Machine is shoved down the ramp by a surly Chris Belcourt. Ghost stumbles, trips over his feet, and rolls the rest of the way down to the ring. The Machine pulls himself up and slides into the ring, but prior to reaching a vertical base, Chris Fury kicks him in the face. Machine barely registers the attack, though, stands up, and buries a shotei in Fury's stomach. Ghost Machine lands another palm strike, this time to the face, and plants Christian with a big boot. Ghost Machine looks around and heads for a rising Stryke, knocking him back down with another big boot.

 

"Shining Black from Ghost Machine! He's starting to take advantage, but there's still quite a few men to enter the match yet."

 

Manson climbs to his feet, spots Ghost, and charges, knocking the possible robot flat with a shoulder block. The Raging Bull stomps the downed Machine, but he quickly gets back to his feet. Manson crashes a fist into Ghost's head and then lands a chop to his throat, either disrupting airflow to his lungs, or blocking a cooling vent. Either way, it allows the Raging Bull to launch Ghost Machine with an overhead belly to belly suplex. Manson wheels around and levels Spike Jenkins with a flurry of punches and is on his way towards eliminating 'Hollywood' when the Fury decks him. Manson blasts Christian with a kick to the ribcage, grabs him by the hair, and tosses Fury over the top rope.

 

#####

Name: Christian Fury

Time Entered: 8:00

Time Eliminated: 11:02

Eliminated By: Manson

Eliminations: None

#####

 

"Manson with his second elimination so far, and he's proving to be one person you do not want to mess with," Pete says, as if anyone needed to be reminded of this fact since Manson melted his first Nazi face.

 

"I am Captain of the S.S. Vodka Ship!" King exclaims, and even has a hat made from discarded bottle labels to prove it.

 

Manson turns towards the ring and gets nailed with a palm strike from Ghost Machine. The Stampede backs Machine away with two quick chops and follows up with a kick to the knee. Manson boots Ghost in the knee again and then simply overpowers him, forcing the maybe metal man to the ground with a STO. Manson can't capitalize (On the situation. He can make capital letters and everything, he's not mentally deficient or anything.) as Stryke yanks the Raging Bull to the mat with a neckbreaker. Stryke pops up to his feet and leaps, landing on Manson's chest with a double stomp. Stryke stomps Manson's face before Spike knocks him to the mat with a dropkick.

 

"If Spike Jenkins and Stryke were smart, they'd team up and work together to eliminate Manson," Pete notes.

 

"And if I had more mouths, I'd be more drunker," King points out.

 

Spike rises to his feet and fires off a superkick at Stryke, who barely manages to avoid the blow. The Aussie lashes out with a kick of his own that just manages to connect with Spike's chest. 'Hollywood' throws a wild lariat that sends Stryke stumbling and follows up with a roaring elbow.

 

Meanwhile, in another part of the ring, Manson is slowly getting to his feet and heading towards the two smaller wrestlers. However, he's stopped in his tracks from a clubbing blow to the back from Ghost Machine. Manson spins around and gets nailed with a palm strike.

 

BONG!

 

Jamie Drazon inexplicably runs out, shouts out that two minutes have expired and exits just as quickly. KC and the Sunshine Band's "I'm Your Boogie Man" plays and the 70s Dude struts down the ramp to enter the fray. He slides in and knocks Manson off his feet with a flying tackle. Ghost Machine takes up the fight and knocks him to one knee with a headbutt. Manson slowly picks himself up off the mat and punts the 70s Dude in the teeth.

 

"It looks like Manson and Ghost Machine have teamed up to take on the 70s Dude, but how long with it last?" Pete asks.

 

"Hopefully longer than my bladder can hold, because I just pissed on your coat," King answers.

 

Manson and Machine continue to beat on the Dude, but he starts fighting back, first landing a punch to the Stampede's groin. Ghost slaps the 70s Dude across the cheek, but is raked across the eyes. 70s Dude slowly gets to his feet, but a charging Spike Jenkins takes him down with a neckbreaker.

 

"Phantom Neckbreaker from 'Hollywood', and now just about everyone is beating up the 70s Dude! I suppose they're more fans of the 80s."

 

"I like 80 proof booze..." King mumbles.

 

The group attack doesn't last long, though, as Stryke sends Jenkins crashing down with a dropkick. 70s Dude climbs to his feet, wraps his arms around Stryke, and takes the Aussie down with a Russian leg sweep. He gets back up, but is nailed from behind by Manson. The Raging Bull lands another kick and is joined by Ghost Machine.

 

ZZZZAP!

 

A bat gets caught in Vlade's bug zapper, announcing the next entrant. OK Go's "Get Over It" roars and Wes Davenport walks down the ramp, trying to take as much time as possible, being as he's not particularly interested in entering such a chaotic match until he has the chance to not get pummeled immediately. Machine grabs hold of the 70s Dude, attempts an Irish whip, but gets it reversed. 70s Dude races after Ghost, but the psuedo man-bot ducks low and launches the 70s Dude over the top rope where Wes Davenport barely avoids being flattened by almost 300 pounds of bad fashion.

 

#####

Name: The 70s Dude

Time Entered: 12:00

Time Eliminated: 14:07

Eliminated By: Ghost Machine

Eliminations: None

#####

 

"And the 70s Dude is gone!"

 

"As are my basic motor functions!" King exclaims.

 

Davenport climbs up the steps, but is still hesitant in entering the ring. He finally sees his chance, enters, and hauls Stryke to the mat with a Scorpion Death Drop. Wes picks the Aussie off the mat and lays into him with an European uppercut. Davenport lands another before planting Stryke with a spinebuster. The former actor makes to pull Stryke back up, but is stopped by a stinging kick to the back from Spike Jenkins. Davenport turns around and eats a kick to the face. Wes quickly backpedals, but right into Manson. In an act of blind despiration, Davenport swings backwards and buries his elbow into squishy abdomen. Wes whips around, snatches the Raging Bull off his feet, and quickly plants the Stampede with a snap powerbomb. Davenport looks up and his eyes go wide with fright as he's knocked flat by an oncoming big boot courtesy of Ghost Machine.

 

"Wes Davenport made a nice impact early on, but Ghost Machine just dropped him with that Yakuza kick. Now it looks like Spike Jenkins and the possible robot but maybe just a guy are the only two men standing. They could either work together and eliminate the bigger men like Manson and Wes Davenport, or they might just decide to beat the crap out of each other," Longdogger states.

 

"Yeah, well, I'll crap out your face!" King replies.

 

Spike looks towards Stryke for a moment, but turns his attention on Ghost Machine and rushes the masked entity. 'Hollywood' catches Ghost perfectly on the chest with a dropkick, but he or it remains standing. Jenkins gets back up, only to eat a shotei. Spike gets hit with another before Ghost slips behind 'Hollywood', wraps his arms around Spike's waist, and hoists him off the mat. Machine makes a half turn before falling backwards, driving Jenkins into the mat.

 

"Backdrop Driver from Ghost Machine! That might give him the opportunity to eliminate Spike Jenkins."

 

Ghost climbs back to his feet, but falls to his knees after a jumping enziguiri from Stryke. Stryke pulls Machine to his feet, locks on a front chancery, grabs Ghost's near leg and spins to the side.

 

"Nice fisherman's neckbreaker from Stryke. He might be able to eliminate Ghost Machine if he works quickly."

 

HORK! HORK! HORK!

 

Divac's vomiting reverberates through the arena, signalling the next entrant. Mos Def, Nate Dogg, and Pharoah Monche's "Oh No" roars over the speakers and Todd Cortez emerges, running down the ramp. Todd slides in and smashes Stryke with a front kick. The Urban Legend bashes the Aussie with another kick before moving in close and nailing him with an European uppercut. Stryke stumbles away, disoriented, and this opens himself up for a short range Hollow Point. Todd mounts Stryke and drops a few clubbing forearms before getting hauled to his feet by Manson. The Raging Bull punches Cortez in the jaw, but the man from the streets, bitch, nails Manson with a superkick. The Stampede takes a step backwards before throwing an elbow that bashes Todd in the forehead. The Urban Legend fires off a quick European uppercut, knocking Manson into Ghost Machine's waiting arms, who launches the Raging Bull overhead with a release German suplex.

 

"Nice suplex from Ghost Machine, and he should try to get rid of Manson right now," Pete says.

 

"I'm going to get rid of your soul with my mind," King replies.

 

Spike Jenkins gets back to his feet and knocks Ghost Machine to the mat with a dropkick. Ghost gets back up, but 'Hollywood' and Todd Cortez team up and plant him with a double suplex.

 

"Nice teamwork from the two straight edgers, and as we all know, Cortez's Martial Law and Spike's Revolution Zero had some memorable matches a while back," Pete notes.

 

"Yeah, well, I had some bourbon a few minutes ago, so top that!" Suicide King shouts.

 

Jenkins and Cortez eye each other briefly before focusing on a rising Wes Davenport. The two cruisers link hands and charge the actor, looking to take him down with a double clothesline. However, Davenport sees it coming and drops to his stomach. Wes gets back to his feet and knocks the returning Spike and Todd down with a flying clothesline. Davenport hauls the Urban Legend up and fires off an European uppercut, which Todd answers with one of his own. Wes lands another, as does Cortez. Davenport snaps off yet another European uppercut, and before the Urban Legend can land one of his own, Wes puts him on his back with a crisp standing side kick. Spike Jenkins runs towards the actor, looking for a lariat, but Wes takes him down as well with a drop toe hold, causing 'Hollywood' to headbutt Todd Cortez in the ribs.

 

POP! POP! POP!

 

Vlade shoots Franz Ferdinand drummer Paul Thomson, signalling the next entrant.

 

"My turn!" King exclaims, trying to enter the match (Still sans pants), but Pete corrals his drunk commentating partner back into his seat.

 

Mary McBride's "No One's Gonna Love You Like Me" plays and Matt Myers walks out, extremely short cut-off jeans, a leather vest (No shirt) and pink cowboy hat on. He sashays down the ramp and slides inside the ring.

 

"And now we've got what I'm going to wager is Matt 'Gay Cowboy' Myers in the match," Longdogger points out.

 

"I wish he knew how to quit us!" King sobs.

 

Myers slaps Wes, but is quickly met with an European uppercut. Matt nearly crumples, but stands up and nails Davenport with a super kick. Wes stumbles and the 'Gay Cowboy' drops him with a spinning wheel kick. Myers quickly turns his attention on Stryke, and buries a running knee into the Aussie's gut. Matt spins around, grabs Stryke by the head, and drives him into the mat with a Russian leg sweep.

 

"Reach Around from Matt Myers! He's really taking it to these other competitors."

 

Manson slowly rises and finds a 'Gay Cowboy' charging him down. Myers leaps in the air, but the cross body block attempt fails as the Raging Bull simply holds on to Matt and drops him with a backbreaker. Manson shoves Myers off his knee and his smacked by Ghost Machine. The Stampede clobbers Machine with a big right hand, but the robo sapien fires off a shotei.

 

At the exact same time, Tony Herrera is eating a live lobster, and, perhaps more importantly, Spike Jenkins and Todd Cortez are back on their feet. Jenkins twirls around, looking for a roaring elbow, but finds instead one of Todd's hands clamped around his throat. The Urban Legend hoists 'Hollywood' off his feet and plants him.

 

"Urban Assault from Todd Cortez!"

 

"You know a good form of Urban Assault? A car bomb!" King exclaims before downing the drink.

 

Cortez pushes Jenkins away to find Wes Davenport staring at him. Cortez snaps off a roundhouse, forcing Davenport against the ropes. The Urban Legend prepares for another devastating kick, but stops, his head snaps back, and he sneezes. Davenport drives his knee into Todd's face and launches the dazed grappler over the top rope.

 

#####

Name: "Urban Legend" Todd Cortez

Time Entered: 16:00

Time Eliminated: 19:20

Eliminated By: Wes Davenport

Eliminations: None

#####

 

Manson drops Ghost Machine after a trio of right hands to the jaw, and turns his attention on Wes Davenport. The Stampede runs towards Wes, gets scooped up, turned upside down, and gets planted with a piledriver. Wes climbs to his feet, only to get kicked in the stomach by Matt Myers. The 'Gay Cowboy' buries another boot into Davenport's midsection, then drops him with a bulldog. Matt rolls Wes over and drags him to a corner. Myers kicks away at Davenport before heading towards the center of the ring. 'Gay Cowboy' races towards the actor and leaps.

 

"Bronco Buster from Matt Myers!"

 

Myers gets up moments before Stryke does the same. Stryke heads towards 'Gay Cowboy' and misses with an European uppercut. Matt connects with a kick under the Aussie's chin. Myers wraps his arms around Stryke's head and drops to his knees, driving his shoulder into Stryke's jaw. Stryke shoots up, allowing Myers to wrap the Australian's own arm around his throat and drop to the mat.

 

"Bareback Mountain followed up with the Jack fuckin' Twisting neckbreaker! He just might be able to eliminate Stryke after that offensive flurry," Pete states.

 

"And I am in the process of eliminating any memory of the first twelve years of my life!" King shoots back, downing another bottle of gin.

 

EL KABONG!

 

Vlade breaks a guitar over the Pope's head, and David Bowe's "China Girl" plays, signalling the entrance of Candace Okimura. The Joshi Dragon darts down the ramp and slides into the ring. She heads straight for Matt Myers and blasts him with a dropkick, knocking him over the top rope, but 'Gay Cowboy' grasps the ropes, stoping himself inches from being eliminated. Okimura, though, is confident of her elimination and turns her attention towards Ghost Machine. She throws two kicks for Machine's head, but Ghost fires off a stepping shotei that knocks the tiny Candace flat. Ghost drops to the mat next to Okimura and locks on a body scissors.

 

"Reclining body scissors from Ghost Machine, and it looks like Matt Myers has managed to slip back in the ring," Pete says.

 

Spike Jenkins gets back to his feet slowly and heads towards Wes Davenport, still slumped in the corner. 'Hollywood' pulls up the actor and smacks him with a palm strike. Spike crashes a boot into Davenport's skull and then looks to dump Wes over the top rope. Davenport fights back, though, and drives an elbow into Spike's gut. Wes wraps Jenkins up in a front facelock, lifts, and drops 'Hollywood' with a brainbuster. Davenport gets back up and rushes a rising Manson, nailing him with a knee lift. The Stampede falls back down, but rolls through and gets to his feet, though quite disoriented. Davenport closes in and peppers the Raging Bull with European uppercuts before planting him with a spinebuster. Wes reaches down to lift Manson back up, but eats a kick from Stryke.

 

"Stryke absolutely blowing a chance to help Wes Davenport eliminate Manson, but, then again, Stryke is an Australian, and that nation bosts more people accidentally locking themselves in sheds than any other," Pete points out.

 

"Time for another Foster's!" King shouts, apparently drunk enough to stomach the horrible taste of the beer made from cane toad mucous and dingo urine.

 

Stryke hits Wes with a forearm, and follows that up with a spin kick. Davenport stumbles backwards into the ropes. Stryke throws a high kick, but Wes ducks out of the way as Stryke's leg hits the top rope. Davenport springs up and slams the point of his boot into Stryke's inner thigh. The former actor snatches the Aussie off his feet and locks him in a torture rack.

 

"Wes Davenport is cranking on Stryke's body, but he can't win that way. At least, not right now, but he could dump Stryke over the top rope."

 

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

 

Chuck Norris, enlisted by Vlade Divac to roundhouse kick Franz Ferdinand lead vocalist Alexander Kapranos to death sounds out, but is swiftly replaced by Disturbed's "I'm Alive" and Kevin Coyote runs down the ramp and enters the ring. Davenport whips around and catches a dropkick in the chest from Coyote. Wes and Stryke both fall to the mat, and the impact dislodges the Aussie from Davenport's grasp. Wes gets back up, only to be rocked with an elbow to the nose. He screams something about his precious, precious face, slams Kevin to the mat and proceeds to beat Coyote to a pulp.

 

At perhaps the exact same moment in time, Nathaniel Kibagami is slaughtering a mime. In the ring, though, Matt Myers is getting back to his feet, as is Spike Jenkins. 'Hollywood' knocks Myers off his feet, only to pull the 'Gay Cowboy' back up and walk him towards the ropes. Spike grabs Matt around the waist and shoves him over, but Myers clings to the ropes, keeping himself alive in the match. Jenkins kicks away at Myers, trying to eliminate him, but the attack is cut short as arms coursing with MANSONOSITY wrap around Spike's waist and fling him backwards. The Stampede turns his back on Myers, which proves to be a mistake, as Matt pulls himself up and springboards back into the ring, taking Manson down with a bulldog.

 

"Spike Jenkins almost took care of Matt Myers, but that tank, Manson, slammed him to the mat with a nice German suplex, and was just now brought down by Matt Myers."

 

Myers gets up, and is followed soon after by the Raging Bull. Matt snaps off a kick, but Manson punches him in the eye. The Stampede grabs 'Gay Cowboy', spins around and lets go, launching Myers over the top rope, but Matt lands on the apron, keeping him in the match.

 

"Manson almost eliminated Matt Myers with that overhead belly to belly suplex, but Myers was lucky enough to land on the apron," Pete says.

 

"I'm not drunk enough," King adds and swallows the better part of a fifth of tequila.

 

Stryke gets back to his feet and spots Manson across the ring. The Aussie heads for the Raging Bull and takes him to the mat with a hurricanrana. Stryke rises, pulls Manson up, and drives him into the canvas with a quick piledriver.

 

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

 

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

 

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

 

Vlade shoots Franz Ferdinand guitarist (And final member) Nick McCarthy several times, and with his death comes the up tempo sounds of C & C Music Factory's "Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now!)". The Crimson Skull marches down the ramp, Heff absent for reasons too boring to be listed here. Skull enters the ring and nails Stryke with a big right hand. Myers slides back in the ring, but drops to one knee after a heart punch from the super villain. Skull wraps a giant hand around Matt's neck and casually chucks him over the top rope, but 'Gay Cowboy' entangles himself in the cables, and is still in the match somehow. The Crimson Skull continues to cut a swathe of destruction, as he punts Ghost Machine in the head before moving on to land a kidney punch to Wes Davenport.

 

"The Crimson Skull is cleaning house! Granted, he hasn't eliminated anyone yet, but he could very well change that in the near future," Longdogger says.

 

"Crimson Skull is a good drink. Five parts vodka, two parts whiskey, and a dash of antifreeze," King states.

 

Wes rises to his feet and swings on Skull, knocking the bigger man back a half step. Skull uses the space to plaster Davenport with a big boot, but gets nailed from behind by Ghost Machine. Skull turns around and lands a double axe handle to the top of Machine's head before burying him into the mat with a spine buster. Skull notices Spike Jenkins getting to his feet and charges down 'Hollywood'. However, at 285 pounds, even charging is slow, and Jenkins manages to avoid the spear, which ends in Skull sailing between the top and middle ropes and landing on the ground.

 

"The Crimson Skull is still in the match! I want that to be known!" Pete exclaims.

 

"And I'm still not yet drunker enoughed!" King mumbles.

 

Manson gets up and bashes Spike in the head with an elbow, backs up, and blasts 'Hollywood' with a Western Lariat. The Raging Bull attempts to toss Spike out, but takes a chop to the throat from Stryke. Manson bashes the Aussie with a knee and then powerbombs the smaller wrestler. Manson's attention towards Jenkins is once again broken as Kevin Coyote kicks him in the back of the knee. The Stampede whips around, looking for another lariat, but Kevin lands a mighty gut punch. Coyote snares a front facelock on Manson and drops to one knee, bashing the Raging Bull's face in with his other, shoots back up, and then falls back with a DDT.

 

"Kevin Coyote takes Manson down, but if he were smarter, he would have waited until Manson eliminated Spike Jenkins, or possibly Stryke. Damn stupid rookies," Pete mutters.

 

"BOOBIES!" King yells.

 

Kevin gets back up when suddenly, Matt Myers wraps his arms around the rookie's waist and shoves him into the ropes. Coyote and 'Gay Cowboy' bounce off, roll backwards, and end up back on their feet before Myers trips Kevin and locks on a sleeper hold. Wes Davenport gets back to his feet, pulls Ghost Machine up and begins laying into the robo sapien with European uppercuts, eventually forcing Ghost into the corner.

 

PTWANG!

 

Vlade shoots an asparagus spear into Fidel Castro's beard using a banjo, and "Megalomaniac" by Incubus plays, sending Landon Maddix to race down the ramp and enter the ring. 'La Cucaracha' looks around and makes for Ghost Machine, firing off two quick kicks to the sternum before hitting an enziguiri.

 

During this moment, an Eskimo is being molested by a walrus and his drunk puffin friend, and somehow, at that exact same moment, the Crimson Skull is pulling himself up and getting in the ring. Skull looks around and flattens Maddix with a clothesline. Skull hauls Manson off his feet and drops him with a piledriver. Spike Jenkins gets to his feet and nails the Crimson Skull in the knee with a kick. Skull grabs 'Hollywood' by the hair, lifts Jenkins off his feet and cracks him with a headbutt. Skull lets go of Spike and knocks him down with a quick pair of punches. Candace Okimura, after some time in a vise-like body scissors is slow in getting up, and the moment she's on her feet, the Joshi Dragon finds two giant hands around her throat.

 

"Pop Your Skull! The Crimson Skull has that choke hold on Candace Okimura, and she might not last much longer, but, as I've said countless times, that won't help Skull win the match!" Pete screams.

 

"Show yer boobies!" King demands of the Joshi Dragon.

 

Not long after, Candace goes limp and Skull, using both hands, tosses her over the top rope.

 

#####

Name: 'The Joshi Dragon' Candace Okimura

Time Entered: 20:00

Time Eliminated: 27:08

Eliminated By: The Crimson Skull

Eliminations: None

#####

 

Skull turns around, right into a chop from Stryke. The Aussie lands a flurry of blows against the super villain, eventually allowing himself to hit a DDT on Skull. Manson gets up and punches Stryke in the face, and then again. Stryke kicks Manson in the chest, but the Raging Bull punches Stryke's face once more. Manson lands another punch, dropping Stryke. Maddix slowly gets up, and Manson walks over to Landon and begins punching his face. After a barrage of ten straight punches in a row, 'La Cucaracha' falls down. The Stampede moves on to Spike Jenkins and starts punching his face. Jenkins gets knocked down after six, and there are still more faces to be punched. By Manson. Who is just walking around and moving his arm in a punching motion, waiting to come in contact with a face.

 

"It looks like Manson has turned into a punching machine! Funny, I thought that would be Ghost Machine's job."

 

"It'sh the shambersh in your learsh," King slurs.

 

Ghost Machine gets back up, and is immediately punched in the face. He fires off a shotei, but gets a punch to the face. Manson lands two more punches before the Machine falls. Manson heads for Matt Myers and Kevin Coyote, and kicks 'Gay Cowboy' in the back. Myers rolls over and gets punched in the face. Coyote slithers away, and Manson heads towards Wes Davenport's face. However, the actor, not wanting his face punched, stops Manson in his tracks with a kick to the groin. Coyote climbs to his feet and knocks Wes down with a dropkick.

 

"It looks like Manson's punching spree is over. But for how long?" Pete wonders.

 

Stryke slowly gets to his feet, his head throbbing from the punching, and stumbles towards Coyote. Kevin swings, but the Aussie ducks and lands an European uppercut.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Don't Ask Me No Questions" blares, and out walks Bruce Blank, looking quite beaten. At the same time, Stryke clotheslines Kevin Coyote over the top rope and out of the match.

 

#####

Name: Kevin Coyote

Time Entered: 22:00

Time Eliminated: 28:00

Eliminated By: Stryke

Eliminations: None

#####

 

Blank shuffles down to the ring and slowly climbs in and is instantly set upon by Stryke, who chops away at the taller man.

 

"Kevin Coyote is gone! But Bruce Blank is here! I'm surprised, as he was in a brutal match earlier tonight."

 

"He'sh shlak in a tishog mushinshinsh," King adds.

 

Blank knees Stryke in the groin and moves on to Crimson Skull, jabbing a thumb in his eyes before knocking him flat with a clothesline. Spike Jenkins eats a forearm, and another before falling to a big boot.

 

OH MY GOD, TIME HAS DRAMATICALLY SPED UP!

 

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

 

Vlade backs a truck up and Saliva's "Superstar" plays, heralding Max King. He runs down the ramp and slides in, but gets punched in the face by Manson.

 

"And Manson has started punching faces again!" Pete yells.

 

MORE TIME WARP! OH NO!

 

Manson pulls Blank up, punches his face, and with a Western Lariat, knocks him over the top rope.

 

#####

Name: Bruce Blank

Time Entered: 28:00

Time Eliminated: 31:40

Eliminated By: Manson

Eliminations: None

#####

 

Manson turns towards Matt Myers and pushes him over the top, but 'Gay Cowboy' holds on to the ropes yet again.

 

LET'S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN!

 

HURF! HURF! HURF!

 

Vlade saves a guy from choking, and Incubus' "Vitamin" plays, and Zyon runs out to help Spike Jenkins kick Landon Maddix in the liver. Meanwhile, Manson is simultaneously punching Ghost Machine, Wes Davenport, Matt Myers, the Crimson Skull, and Max King in the face because the power of MANSONOSITY compells him.

 

IF TIME KEEPS RUSHING FORWARD LIKE THIS, WE'LL ALL BE DEAD BEFORE WE KNOW IT! OH WELL!

 

KA-BLAMO!

 

Vlade shoots every member of The Strokes in the face at once, and Therapy's "Teethgrinder" plays. TORU runs down to the ramp, climbs in, and gets punched in the face by Manson.

 

TIME KEEPS ON SLIPPING, SLIPPING, SLIPPING, INTO THE FUTURE!

 

Landon pulls TORU off the mat, backs him into the ropes and dropkicks the Hammer over, eliminating him.

 

#####

Name: TORU Takahara

Time Entered: 34:00

Time Eliminated: 35:10

Eliminated By: Landon 'La Cucaracha' Maddix

Eliminations: None

#####

 

Drunkenly, Tim Dillon rushes out with no music and enters the match, only to get punched in the face by Manson. Some time later, Manson punches Tim over the top rope.

 

#####

Name: Tim Dillon

Time Entered: 36:00

Time Eliminated: 41:44

Eliminated By: Manson

Eliminations: None

#####

 

Manson keeps punching faces until he grows weary and allows Max King to throw Stryke over the top rope.

 

#####

Name: Stryke

Time Entered: 4:00

Time Eliminated: 43:34

Eliminated By: 'The Icon' Max King

Eliminations: Kevin Coyote, 28:00

#####

 

"And we have the first person to be eliminated that has eliminated someone else," Pete says.

 

"BOOBIES!" King adds.

 

The Crimson Skull, using magic powers he gained when he ate a bad burrito, escapes the face punching onslaught and hits Ghost Machine with a magnet, causing a short circuit. Skull then tosses Machine over the top.

 

#####

Name: Ghost Machine 2.0

Time Entered: 10:00

Time Eliminated: 45:00

Eliminated By: The Crimson Skull

Eliminations: The 70s Dude, 14:19

#####

 

Skull is about to hit Wes Davenport, but suddenly has to blink, and Wes low blows the villain before throwing him over the top.

 

#####

Name: The Crimson Skull

Time Entered: 24:00

Time Eliminated: 45:27

Eliminated By: Wes Davenport

Eliminations: The Joshi Dragon Candace Okimura, 27:08; Ghost Machine 2.0, 45:00

#####

 

CUT TO:

 

Landon Maddix dropkicks Max King over the top rope while Manson punches Matt Myers over, but 'Gay Cowboy' holds on and rolls back under the bottom rope.

 

#####

Name: 'The Icon' Max King

Time Entered: 30:00

Time Eliminated: 47:19

Eliminated By: Landon 'La Cucharacha' Maddix

Eliminations: Stryke, 43:34

#####

 

Manson, angry that so many people are avoiding his face punching, punches Wes Davenport over the top rope.

 

#####

Name: Wes Davenport

Time Entered: 14:00

Time Eliminated: 47:59

Eliminated By: Manson

Eliminations: 'The Urban Legend' Todd Cortez, 19:20; The Crimson Skull, 45:27

#####

 

Tired of him always rolling back in, Manson punches Matt Myers really hard in the face, and 'Gay Cowboy' lands in the stands.

 

#####

Name: Matt 'Gay Cowboy' Myers

Time Entered: 18:00

Time Eliminated: 49:31

Eliminated By: Manson

Eliminations: None

#####

 

Manson lurks around, looking for more faces to punch, when, out of nowhere, Zyon shoves Manson over the top rope. In his rage, Manson punches every face in the crowd.

 

#####

Name: Manson

Time Entered: 6:00

Time Eliminated: 52:13

Eliminated By: Zyon

Eliminations: 'The Rage' Jason Von Dierch, 9:39; Christian Fury, 11:02; Bruce Blank, 31:40; Tim Dillon, 41:44; Wes Davenport, 47:59; Matt 'Gay Cowboy' Myers, 49:31

#####

 

"IT IS NOW A TRIPLE THREAT MATCH! I DON'T THINK ANYONE WAS EXPECTING MANSON TO NOT BE IN IT, WHAT WITH ALL HIS FACE PUNCHING, AND, AS SUCH, NEITHER SPIKE JENKINS, NOR LANDON MADDIX, NOR ZYON ARE EXACTLY CONSCIOUS!" Pete shouts.

 

"BOOBIES!"

 

Vlade Divac hustles to start officiating the match, and Landon runs at a kneeling Spike Jenkins, hitting him with a shining wizard. 'La Cucaracha' goes for a cover.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO!

 

"Zyon just broke up the pin after that brutal Shining Wizard from Landon Maddix!" Pete yells whilst rubbing his nipples in excitement.

 

"Sho eyshto glush," King adds.

 

Zyon pulls Maddix up, puts him in a reverse fireman's carry and drops Landon on his head. The Unique Youth isn't done, though, and heads for the top turnbuckle. He leaps off with the best fucking move ever, landing on Maddix with the Sky Twister Press. He stays down and Vlade counts the pin.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

"Zyon has won Clusterfuck! Amazing!" Pete shouts.

 

"And I've drastically sobered up! So much so that the average person won't even be able to tell that I was drunk for the main event!"

[Bruce Blank 0]

(Another one that didn’t win – dang)

 

The cameras pan across the sold out, and when I say sold out I mean “People bring their own folding chairs and sit in the aisle” sold out!”, Staples Center in picturesque Los Angeles to give the eager fans a chance to get their signs on TV.

 

“Only a cockroach can survive twice”

 

“Academy Award for Best Wrestler: Wes Davenport” (complete with an Oscar statuette that has Wes’ face on it)

 

”Ghost Machine V2.0 = Toth”

 

”I came to see Jimmy the Doom – where the HELL is he?”

 

”I couldn’t get Anglepalooza tickets”

 

And after that last sign we quickly head to the ring where Funyon is busy telling everyone about the rules of this particular match.

 

“You know Pete, who here do not know the rules?” King says as he’s bored by Funyon’s spiel already.

 

“There might be people who do not know that you’re eliminated if you’re thrown over the top rope and both your feet touch the floor.” Pete replies defending Funyon’s explanations of the ClusterFuck rules.

 

“Oh come on, don’t you think the fans who bought the PPV knows that the winner will get a world title shot at “From the Fire”?? it’s not like it’s the first time that’s been done” King fires back just as Funyon’s explanations wind down.

 

“Well now the fans at home didn’t hear Funyon explain the rules – are you happy now?”

 

“Yes very much so Pete”

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen it is now time for the 2006 20 MAN CLUSTERFUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK ELIMINATION MATCH!!” Funyon yells before leaving the ring as his announcing duties for this match are over.

 

The lights die down for a moment both to signal the start of the match and well because Hollywood Spike Jenkins is on his way and everyone knows it.

 

“It’s no mystery who’s #1 this year” Pete says as the Smarktron turns bright white.

 

“No the idiot ASKED for it” King says with a snigger

 

*SCREEEEEEEEEEEEE-BAM!!*

 

“Black Label” blares over the PA system as Spike Jenkins walks out looking calm and confident over the humongus task ahead of him here tonight. He quickly kneels on the ramp and then crosses his arms to make the “X” symbol as the crowd cheers him on.

 

“Hollywood had a bit of miscommunication with Zyon on Smarkdown, which is why he’s not walking into this match as the International champion” King reminds everyone taking pleasure in reminding everyone of Spike’s failures.

 

“He’s a man with something to prove King – I think that’s why he went a little overboard on Smarkdown and that’s why he’s demanded to be first in the ring here tonight.” King says.

 

Once Hollywood Spike Jenkins is in the ring the music switches to Bouncing Souls “Óle” as the black & gold clad luchador Laberinto comes out through the curtains sprinting down the aisle as he slaps hands with anyone who wants to. Hollywood just stands in his corner and watches as Laberinto leaps over the top rope and then takes off his golden cape ready for action.

 

*DING*DING*DING*

 

“AND HEEEEEEEEEERE WE GO!!” King says excitedly as the bell rings for the 2006 ClusterFuck.

 

“King this could be the night where a new superstar is established” Pete says pointing out the obvious to everyone.

 

“The winner will face either El Luchador Magnifico or J.J. Johnson – I’m not sure that’s really a GOOD thing” King says.

 

Laberinto extends his right hand towards Spike Jenkins, offering him a handshake before the mach starts as a signal of good faith and intentions. Hollywood just stands there and looks at the extended hand with a sneer before gesturing for Laberinto to “come on” instead of going for the handshake.

 

“A little less straight, a little more edge from Hollywood – is that what it’ll take for Spike to be successful tonight?” King wonders

 

“Maybe so, he’s got a HUGE task ahead of himself if he’s going to win – then again so does the newcomer Laberinto” says Pete.

 

So instead of the handshake Laberinto and Spike lock up in the middle of the ring in a good old fashioned collar and elbow tie-up with both of them struggling for position. After a few moments of jockeying for control Spike shoves Laberinto back a few steps and then runs at him with lariat aspirations.

 

Laberinto leaps to the side, raising his arm like a bullfighter avoiding the snarling monster

 

OLÉ!!

 

Spike turns around quickly and once again attacks Laberinto but the lighting quick luchador once again side steps him and waves his hands like he was holding a red blanket

 

OLÉ!!

 

Laberinto can’t help but smile as quite a few fans in the audience chant along with him. When Spike comes at him a third time he leaps into the air hoping to leap frog over Hollywood, but Jenkins is half a step ahead of his opponent as he grabs hold of Laberinto mid leap and then drives him into the ground with a spine buster that Arn Anderson would be proud off

 

“Spike Jenkins scores the first big move of the match!” Pete says in case you’re keeping score at home.

 

“It doesn’t matter who scores the first move – all that matters is who scores the LAST move! with the position Spike is in I know it ain’t gonna be him, hell I’ll go out on a limb and say that he’ll be the first one eliminated!” King boldly predicts.

 

The second Laberinto sits up Spike moves in and kicks him hard across the chest twice before taking a step back and then

 

*BAM!!*

 

Spike’s foot strikes Laberinto square on the jaw knocking the 220 pound Luchador down to the canvas once again. With everything going his way Spike grins as he grabs his opponent by the tights and the back of his mask and drags him back to his feet.

 

“Spike is looking to take out El Garbajo” King quips as Spike drags his opponent towards the ropes.

 

“That’s a really good strategy – get the opponent out before the next one enters”

 

Laberinto has enough presence of mind to grab on to the top rope as Spike tries to throw him over it and manages to wart off elimination. But Spike doesn’t give up that easily and instead reaches down and grabs one of Laberinto’s legs as he tries to lift him over the top instead of throwing him.

 

TEN!!

 

“Who’s coming? Who’s next?” King asks excitedly

 

NINE!!

 

EIGHT!!

 

“Well we don’t know King, it could be anyone of 18 people” Pete replies suspecting that it could be a LONG night at the commentary table.

 

SEVEN!!

 

SIX!!

 

FIVE!!

 

Laberinto clings onto the top rope like he duct taped to it as Spike pushes and pulls to get his opponent out of the ring before the next one shows up.

 

FOUR!!

 

THREE!!

 

“So… who is it?” the Suicide King impatiently asks again.

 

TWO!!

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

Rammstein’s sweet dulcet sounds heralds the introduction of participant #3 Germany’s own Jason Von Dierch. Jason doesn’t waste much time as he races to the ring and slides under the bottom rope behind Spike and Laberinto.

 

“Von Dierch has been out of action for a while King, I wonder if it’s slowed him down any” Pete ponders

 

“I think the ass kicking Bruce Blank laid on him last time we saw him is what’s going to slow him down” King says referring to the “Trunk or Treat” Ultraviolent title match Jason Von Dierch lost a while back.

 

Jason quickly leaps at Spike, striking him in the back with a high knee – a move that knocks Spike down but also knocks Laberinto OVER the top rope onto the apron where he clings on to the bottom rope to prevent himself from being eliminated.

 

“Now if he was smart he would have helped Spike out instead of attacking him” King points out

 

“He could still end up eliminating Laberinto on his own” Says Pete as JVD kicks Laberinto in the mid section.

 

Jason grabs the top rope and then places his right foot on Laberinto’s chest pushing the luchador backwards hoping to pry him off the bottom rope and out of the match. When Jason notices that Laberinto has both his legs and arms wrapped around the bottom rope he turns away in anger and walks straight into

 

*BAM!!*

 

THE LAST DANCE!!

 

Spike’s superkick nails the Rage square on the jaw knocking him backwards quickly sending him into the ropes. With Von Dierch perfectly placed Laberinto quickly crawls under the bottom rope back into the ring and then signals for the 619 much to the delight of the crowd. Laberinto sprints across the ring, leaps in between the top and the middle rope and connects with ease.

 

“Laberinto sure knows how to get the crowd fired up” Pete says as the crowd pops for the lighting fast action.

 

After hitting the 619 on Von Dierch Laberinto spins back into the ring, back right into a Roaring Elbow from Spike Jenkins

 

“And Spike knows how to take the jump out of the jumping bean” King fires back as Spike rains on Laberinto’s parade.

 

Spike looks at both Von Dierch and Laberinto on the canvas and just shakes his head, either he disapproves of their clothes selections or he just doesn’t think much of their chances right now. With one hand on Jason’s long hair and the other on the back of his trunks Spike tries to gain enough momentum to launch the Rage over the top rope to the floor, but Von Dierch isn’t ready to exit the match just yet and quickly puts the breaks on while shoving Spike into the ropes instead.

 

“Von Dierch could take Spike by surprise here, I told you he’d be the first one out” King says as JVD has Spike on the ropes.

 

TEN!!

 

NINE!!

 

“Here comes the fourth entrant, if this is a big guy he could easily clear the ring of all three cruiserweights” King says as the clock counts down

 

EIGHT!!

 

SEVEN!!

 

SIX!!

 

Spike frees himself from Jason’s attempt at throwing him over the top robe by nailing the Rage with a back elbow that connects with the bridge of Jason’s nose.

 

FIVE!!

 

FOUR!!

 

THREE!!

 

The moment Spike turns around to find out where Laberinto is he’s greeted with a flying forearm with a grace and beauty that hasn’t been seen since before Tito Santana became “El Matador” and just didn’t put the same “snap” into it.

 

TWO!!

 

ONE!!

 

“COME ON CRIMSON SKULL!” King says rooting for someone big to come to the ring and clean up.

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

The blue and white pyrotechnics that accompany Cypress Hill’s “How I Could Just Kill A Man” tells everyone in the arena that Styke is about to make his appearance

 

“Ah man he’s no Crimson Skull” King says disappointedly.

 

“No but he’s got more experience at this match than anyone else – he’s been in the Clusterfuck in 2002, 2003, 2004 and 2005 and now he’s in 2006 as well, that’s quite a record.” Pete informs everyone

 

“So you’re saying he’s an experienced fucker?” King fires back as they both watch Stryke jog to the ring, slide under the bottom rope and then tackle Von Dierch into the corner before the Rage has a chance to defend himself. With 4 men in the ring the action quickly splits into two separate fights as Stryke is working over Jason Von Dierch in the corner with a series of shoulder blocks and Laberinto targets Spike who’s getting back up on his knees after being knocked down by the flying forearm.

 

Laberinto bounces off the ropes, steps on Spike’s right leg and then connects with a Shinning Wizard

 

*POW!!*

 

“Laberinto is showing some fire here tonight – a regular Casa En Fuego!!” the Suicide King says as the lighting quick luchador gets back to his feet.

 

“Stryke is going pretty good too in the corner as well, he’s taking it to Jason Von Dierch” Pete adds as Stryke nails his opponent with a series of knees to the mid section.

 

Stryke picks up the Rage and slams him down parallel with the turnbuckles and then quickly gets up on the second rope before he a second later leaps towards Von Dierch going for a double stomp. Von Dierch rolls out of the path of Stryke’s feet but since Stryke move of choice means he lands on his feet he quickly adjusts and drops an elbow on the neck of Jason Van Dierch instead.

 

“Jason thought he was safe, but as Styke can attest to, You’re never safe in the ClusterFuck match” says the Suicide King

 

“Stryke knows better than anyone that it can be over like that” Pete says and snaps his fingers “A wrong move or letting someone sneak up on you and you could very well end up on the floor”

 

“You’d know that too Pete – isn’t that how you embarrassed yourself if 2003?”

 

“I wouldn’t say “embarrassed” King – I just didn’t win” Pete defends himself.

 

“You didn’t even last 6 minutes Pete go ahead and admit it” King says as he loves to torture his co-commentator.

 

TEN!!

 

“Alright here comes number 5” Pete quickly says more than happy to change the subject.

 

NINE!!

 

EIGHT!!

 

SEVEN!!

 

SIX!!

 

“Come on power!! We need someone to throw all these small guys around” King pleads as the count down is on.

 

FIVE!!

 

FOUR!!

 

THREE!!

 

TWO!!

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

”Lesson

The honoring instinct of animal

Pressure”

 

“Is THAT big enough for ya?” Pete says as the fans begin to boo the imminent arrival of the Raging Bull

 

“Oh yeah baby, Manson is plenty big and strong – we’re gonna see some CARNAGE!!” says King while rubbing his hands.

 

In a flash of jeans and beard Manson is in the ring looking like he’s ready to tear a few assholes! The first person to suffer the powers of Mansonosity is Laberinto as Manson almost takes his head off with a stiff lariat

 

“Oh man he spun Laberinto 360 degrees in the air” says King not bothering to hide his enjoyment.

 

“Spike isn’t just going to let Manson run wild though King” Pete says as Hollywood Spike Jenkins charges the Master of Mansonosity…

 

…only to find himself being dropped throat first onto the top rope as Manson uses Spike’s momentum to hot shot him. A moment later Jason Von Dierch finds himself tossed half way across the ring as he’s on the receiving end of a Bell to Belly overhead suplex that Manson releases half way through to let the Rage tumble across the canvas. With 3 opponents down Manson turns his attention on the only other man still standing in the ring

 

He totally no-sells the kick to the gut by Stryke and then traps Stryke under his arm and then hoists him into the air for stiff Uranage Suplex

 

*BAM!!*

 

“Man he shook the ring with that move, Stryke could be out cold” Pete says as Manson celebrates his carnage with a animalistic roar.

 

“There is your winner Pete, it’s Manson’s year I can feel it” King confidently states

 

Being the first one back on his feet Spike Jenkins shows that he’s far from out of the match, but unfortunately for him it also means that he’s Manson’s next target as the burly power house grabs the much lighter opponent around the throat and by the tights and hoists him up over his head in a gorilla press position.

 

“THROW HIM OUT!! THROW HIM OUT!!” King yells encouraging Manson

 

“So now you can’t even pretend to be unbiased?” Pete says.

 

“Did I not say Spike would be the first guy out, Manson is going to make that come true” King replies.

 

Realizing that he’s on the bring of elimination Spike becomes a frenzy of activities as he wiggles his legs and pushes himself backwards, breaking Manson’s grip on him and allowing him to drop to the canvas behind the Raging Bull. Spike uses his position to push Manson forward driving him into the ropes, after a moment Stryke joins in the attempt to lift Manson out of the ring as he grabs him by the legs as Spike tries to push Manson’s upper body over the top rope.

 

“Spike seems to be all business tonight, no showboating or anything – he’s a man on a mission” Pete states.

 

“So which one is he? Mabel or Mo?” King quips, making a dated joke that’s probably lost on at least half of the viewing audience.

 

TEN!!

 

NINE!!

 

“Man has it been 2 minutes already? Time sure flies when Manson throws people around” King says as his attention turns towards the entrance ramp where participant number 6 will be coming out in 8 short seconds.

 

EIGHT!!

 

SEVEN!!

 

SIX!!

 

While Spike and Stryke are trying to eliminate Manson Jason Von Dierch is having his way with Laberinto as the still groggy Mexican is unable to defend himself from the onslaught of the man known as “The Rage”

 

FIVE!!

 

FOUR!!

 

THREE!!

 

As the crowd counts down Von Dierch raises Laberinto up into the air and viciously DRIVES him into the ground with a sit out power bomb

 

*BAM!!*

 

TWO!!

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

The second the buzzer goes off Stryke’s attention is temporarily diverted from the task at hand which gives Manson a chance to elbow Spike and thus ward off elimination from the two of them for now.

 

“Here comes the returning Christian Fury – is he ready for a match of this magnitude after a prolonged absence?” Pete ponders as “Anxiety” plays over the PA system.

 

“If he’s allowed to bring the Kendo Stick to the ring he just might go all the way” King says.

 

But when Fury reaches ringside the floor referees and road agents stop him and demands that he turns the Kendo stick over to them before he’s allowed to go in the ring. Reluctantly Fury hands the Kendo stick to William Hearford III and walks up the steel steps

 

“The officials are out in force tonight to prevent any cheating to take place” Pete says explaining why a guy like Judge would be at ringside for the match.

 

“Bleh they’re stifling people’s freedom of expression” King replies.

 

Fury is still on the apron when Spike Jenkins runs across the ring, leaps up on the shoulders of Jason Von Dierch from behind and then flips himself forward in a Victory Roll position that sends the unprepared Von Dierch flipping over the top and to the floor.

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason Von Dierch

ENTERED: #3

LEFT: 1st

ELIMINATED: None

ELIMINATED BY: Spike Jenkins

LEFT IN RING: Spike Jenkins, Laberinto, Stryke, Manson, Christian Fury

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“We have our first elimination! Jason Von Dierch is the first man thrown out tonight” Pete says

 

“Yeah but he’ll soon be followed by Spike, like I’ve said all along he’ll be the SECOND man out of the match” King says, revising his story.

 

Spike quickly crawls back through the ropes into the ring and jumps Laberinto simply because he’s the closet opponent. Fury steps through the ropes and enters the ring where he’s face to face with Manson and Stryke in a 3 way staredown.

 

“Oh for the love of pudding! Just hit someone – anyone” King says as the three men stare at each other for a minute, memories of a match that never was hanging in the air.

 

After the staredown both Stryke and Christian Fury decide to attack Manson at the same time, driving the Raging Bull back into the corner as they throw punch after punch at him. Spike has Laberinto tied up in the ropes once more but Laberinto is just too quick and agile and crawls through the 2nd and 3rd rope as Spike tries to push him over the top.

 

TEN!!

 

NINE!!

 

Laberinto’s positioning allows him to turn the tables and a second later SPIKE is the one dangling on the edge of elimination instead.

 

EIGHT!!

 

SEVEN!!

 

“What did I say? Spike will be the next ass to hit the ground” King confidently states as Laberinto tries to shove Spike over the top

 

SIX!!

 

FIVE!!

 

FOUR!!

 

“If he is going out it won’t be now” Pete states as Spike manages to push Laberinto off using one of his feet and get back in the ring.

 

THREE!!

 

TWO!!

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE BOO-BOO!! WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE BOO-BOO!! CLANK!

 

“It’s the new and improved Ghost Machine” King says as the crowd begins to boo the latest product to come off the Benner Corp. assembly line.

 

“I wonder if his warranty will cover getting into the ring with 19 wrestlers” Pete ponders.

 

The curtains are pulled to the side and Ghost Machine V2.0 appears as the weird robot music plays on. The “Robot” is standing on the prongs of a fork lift that’s being driven to ringside by a very annoyed looking Chris Belcourt. When the forklift reaches ringside Belcourt raises the prongs so that they are level with the ring with Ghost Machine V2.0 remaining totally immobile.

 

“That’s a smart strategy right there, preserve oil for a long match” King says as the other competitors in the ring stare at the Ghost Machine.

 

“Preserve oil, so you’re saying he’s ecologically friendly now? Does he run on unleaded?” Pete asks mockingly.

 

When Ghost Machine doesn’t move Stryke turns his attention towards the other competitors and targets the man EVERYONE is gunning for tonight, Spike Jenkins, and elbows him in the gut. Then he quickly hoists him up on his shoulders in a fireman’s carry position before he begins to spin around with Spike on his shoulders

 

“This is one of Stryke’s favorite moves, the air-plane spin slam, but it’s been known to backfire on him” Pete says sounding all clever and insightful.

 

“I wonder if Spike ate before the match, if he did we may just see it come back up again” King says as Stryke spins Spike around and around.

 

Stryke swings Spike around and hits Manson in the back of the head with one of Spike’s legs knocking the Raging Bull down, then he strikes Laberinto with Spike’s foot to knock him down too. When Stryke began to twirl Spike around in the air Ghost Machine V2.0 springs to life as he steps off the forklift and into the ring.

 

Ghost Machine ducks the legs once, then again but Stryke stops dead in his tracks and then changes direction to nail Ghost Machine in the face with Spike’s foot before dropping his Straight Edge opponent the ground.

 

“Stryke always ends up dizzy and vulnerable himself” Pete says “And sometimes it’s NOT a good thing”

 

As if he was out to prove Longdogger Pete right Chris Fury rushes over to the swaying Stryke, grabs him by the tights and the back of the head and does a running toss with the Cruiserweight over the top rope to the floor.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stryke

ENTERED: #4

LEFT: 2nd

ELIMINATED: None

ELIMINATED BY: Christian Fury

LEFT IN RING: Spike Jenkins, Laberinto, Manson, Christian Fury, Ghost Machine 2,0

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Another ClusterFuck, another elimination for Stryke – that’s got to get old” King says as Stryke hits the ground.

 

Chris Fury doesn’t waste time celebrating the elimination as he turns his attention towards Manson since he’s the first one to get back to his feet after being struck by Spike’s boots. Fury gets a head of steam, runs at Manson and hits him with a clothesline that sends BOTH of them over the top rope hurtling towards the arena floor. Fury manages to hand on to the top rope at the last second but Manson has no such luck and finds himself on the floor and eliminated from the match.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Manson

ENTERED: #5

LEFT: 3rd

ELIMINATED: Jason Von Dierch

ELIMINATED BY: Christian Fury

LEFT IN RING: Spike Jenkins, Laberinto, Christian Fury, Ghost Machine 2.0

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“TWO QUICKIES FOR FURY!!” King says loudly to punctuate Fury’s double eliminations.

 

“Manson doesn’t look happy at all” Pete says as Manson tries to rush over and drag Fury down to the floor with him.

 

But William Hearford and the army of referees do their best to prevent Manson from illegally eliminating Chris Fury as they give “The Fury” the chance to climb back into the ring and off the apron.

 

TEN!!

 

NINE!!

 

“We’re about to be joined by a 5th man in the ring – and will all Cruiserweights in there right now a powerhouse could really do some damage” Pete says

 

EIGHT!!

 

SEVEN!!

 

SIX!!

 

Spike and Laberinto’s little mini war been put on hold for a moment as the two of them actually work together to try and get Christian Fury thrown out of the ring.

 

FIVE!!

 

FOUR!!

 

“Now that’s what I like to see from Spike, he doesn’t care who helps him – as long as it gets him closer to a win” King says actually finding something about Spike that he likes tonight.

 

THREE!!

 

TWO!!

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

The strobe lights kick in to take everyone back to the seventies as KC and the Sunshine band tells everyone that the 70s Dude is YOUR boogie man. The 70s Dude’s funky walk and smarmy smile doesn’t really convince anyone that he’s their boogie man and the Los Angeles crowd is happy to tell him

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

The 70s Dude enters the ring and rushes at Spike, Laberinto and Fury and throws his full weight against them, splashing all three against the ropes to take the advantage in the match. The Dude just smiles as the crowd boos him and then does his funky strut – after all he’s knocked all the guys in the ring down: Fury, Spike and Laberinto… leaving only…

 

“Did Ghost Machine get eliminated” Pete asks when he suddenly notices that the Machine is on the floor.

 

“I don’t think so Pete, I didn’t see it” King replies.

 

Ghost Machine just stand there on the floor, not moving an inch as the action goes on in the ring, since he’s not being told to go to the back it’s safe to assume he’s not out yet and is just preserving his battery power.

 

“Okay that’s just wrong” Pete says all indignant, there was no “time out” when he was in the ClusterFuck match.

 

The Dude drops a duderiffic elbow square on Spike’s chest, but is knocked on his back when Fury and Laberinto hit a double sliding drop kick straight to the seated Dude’s face. Fury and Laberinto then kips up in unison and raises an arm in celebration

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!

 

The camera catches up with the Ghost Machine as he’s finally moved on the floor and is now over by the fork lift with a USB plug in one hand. With stiff calculated moves Ghost Machine V2.0 reaches up and plugs the USB port into his nose – or I/O port of whatever it’s technically called and then pushes a button on the object on the other end of the cable.

 

“I didn’t know he was USB compatible?” Pete says,

 

“Well V1.0 ran on floppy disks but this is the new and improved model” King says as the camera zooms in on the device at the other end of the USB cable.

 

“Savage’o’nizer”

 

“What the?”

 

TEN!!

 

“And here comes another entrant” Pete says as the crowd counts along with the clock once more.

 

NINE!!

 

EIGHT!!

 

Ghost Machine removes the USB plug and then turns his attention towards the entrance as he raises his right hand in the air, index finger extended as he rotates it in a familiar gesture

 

SEVEN!!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH *Beep* YEAH!!!”

 

SIX!!

 

FIVE!!

 

A second after using his loud speaker to simulate a human voice he sprints down the aisle towards the entrance

 

FOUR!!

 

THREE!!

 

“Where is he going?” Pete asks, not really expecting an answer

 

TWO!!

 

ONE!!

 

Just as the clock hits zero Ghost Machine ducks behind some of the scenery and waits out of sight

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

The start of OK Go’s “Get Over it” can only mean one thing

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!

 

The crowd truly comes alive as one of the crowd favorites steps through the curtains and into the spotlight, HIS spotlight

 

WES!! WES!! WES!! WES!!

 

The Hollywood star smiles from ear to ear over the warm ovation Los Angeles is giving him as he’s practically in his own backyard tonight. He stops for a moment to sign an autograph for a busty woman who holds out a pen and her *a-hem* “assets” for him to sign.

 

“Man I want to be Wes Davenport right now” Pete says wishing that he could autograph a pair of boobs as well.

 

“Oh please, I’ve autographed bigger” the Suicide King says as he tries to hide his jealousy.

 

As Wes puts pen to flesh a flash of red and purple is seen as Ghost Machine V2.0 comes out from where he’s hiding, sprints towards Wes Davenport and totally clobbers him with a double axe handle to the back of the movie star’s head.

 

“Good thing mannerisms can’t be copyrighted” King says as Ghost Machine strikes a classic Randy Savage pose with one finger raised in the air.

 

“We’d have been out of business by now if they could King” says Pete and breathes a sigh of relief.

 

While the Ghost Machine keeps attacking Wes Davenport half way down the aisle there is action in the ring as well as four men slug it out between them to hopefully eliminate some else. In fact they’ve picked their target and Fury, Spike and Laberinto are all focusing on The 70s Dude, chasing him around the ring to corner the big man and hopefully use their numbers advantage to get him out of the ring.

 

“Spike seems to be quite the opportunist tonight” Pete says

 

“Yes he does” but where Pete sounded disappointed King sounded intrigued.

 

Davenport tries his best to fight off the Ghost Machine, but so far nothing has worked as the robot just keeps on with the assault, almost as if it was his prime directive to hurt Wes Davenport. In the ring the 70s Dude knocks Spike down with a boot to the side of the head but he’s too slow to avoid being trapped by Fury and Laberinto as they shoulder tackle him into the corner.

 

“I just realized something” Pete says

 

“That you can’t buy a prostitute with monopoly money?” King quips wishing Pete would just say what’s on his mind.

 

“That if Wes isn’t in the ring by the time the count hits zero he’s eliminated” Pete says exposing Ghost Machine’s “sinister plot”

 

TEN!!

 

“That’ll give him 10 seconds” King says

 

NINE!!

 

Wes realizes the same thing as the count down begins and he quickly pushes Machine off him and then runs for the ring

 

EIGHT!!

 

SEVEN!!

 

Once Wes reaches ringside he’s tackled by Ghost Machine who locks his arms around him to keep Wes out of the ring

 

SIX!!

 

FIVE!!

 

Out of desperation Wes kicks backwards, not knowing if a low blow will work on a robot or not. But there must be some sort of groinal socket or something because kicking him there results in Ghost Machine quickly releasing Wes to adjust something “down there” as he drops to his knees.

 

FOUR!!

 

THREE!!

 

TWO!!

 

Just before the buzzer Wes Davenport manages to pull himself under the bottom rope into the ring, being literally 1 second from elimination.

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

The second “Oh No” hits the speakers the crowd comes alive and cheers like crazy for one of the odds on favorites Todd Cortez. Todd steps into the arena, raises his right arm to acknowledge the overwhelming fan support and then quickly jogs to the ring and enters by leaping over the top rope.

 

“I heard that Las Vegas gave Todd really good odds if he entered in the 2nd half of the match and with him being #10 I’d have to agree” Pete says.

 

“We’re half way there Pete, half way to making someone famous forever”.

 

Laberinto rocks the 70s Dude with a drop kick that staggers the big man. Taking advantage of his ring position Laberinto quickly leaps up on the second rope and then springboards towards the 70s Dude with a Bulldog in mind. Unfortunately for Laberinto the 70s Dude has something else in mind as he holds the much lighter Luchardor up in the air, spins around and drops Laberinto

 

WITH ONE LEG ON EACH SIDE OF THE TOP ROPE!!

 

Before Laberinto has a chance to recover Ghost Machine turns his speed dial up and lands a stiff, stiff Big Boot to Laberinto’s face knocking the Tocula, Mexico native out of the ring down to the floor.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Laberinto

ENTERED: #2

LEFT: 4th

ELIMINATED: None

ELIMINATED BY: Ghost Machine V2.0

LEFT IN RING: Spike Jenkins, Christian Fury, Ghost Machine 2.0, the 70s Dude, Wes Davenport

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Someone check to see if Laberinto’s jaw is still attached to his face” King quips as the 4th man eliminated in the match is helped to his feet and directed to the back. Todd Cortez ducks under a flying elbow from Spike Jenkins and then quickly grabs Spike by the hair and the tights hoping to throw the shaken Spike out of the ring.

 

“Adios Spike!!” King says as Todd throws Spike over the top

 

But Spike lands on his feet on the apron, keeping himself in the match for at least a bit longer. Todd tries to knock Spike down with a right hand but Hollywood blocks it and then strikes Todd instead. A second blow from Spike follows moments later knocking Cortez back. The second he has a bit of space Spike grabs the top rope and springboards himself back into the ring striking Todd Cortez with a drop kick.

 

TEN!!

 

“Not only is Spike not out, he’s looking as strong as ever despite being in there from the opening bell” Pete says

 

NINE!!

 

EIGHT!!

 

SEVEN!!

 

SIX!!

 

FIVE!!

 

FOUR!!

 

THREE!!

 

TWO!!

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

The theme music to the classic Superman movies of the 80ties begins to play, leaving the crowd to wonder who’s coming out next. A moment later Matt Myers comes running out through the curtains wearing a Superman costume complete with red underwear on the outside and a cape flowing behind him as he runs to the ring with one arm in the air in the classic “flying” pose.

 

“Lord almighty” King groans as Matt Myers “Flies” around the ring once before entering it.

 

“There is your winner – I mean who can beat Superman?” Pete says as he laughs.

 

Matt “Superman” Myers quickly goes on the attack and strikes Ghost Machine V2 with a fist, then he moves on and strikes the 70s Dude ignoring the fact that Ghost Machine wasn’t even staggered by the punch – sensing that he’s on a roll Myers then punches Todd Cortez, Spike Jenkins and Christian Fury, each time with very little effect

 

“Some Superman” King says as he laughs at Myers’ pathetic attempts.

 

When Matt tries to strike Wes the Hollywood icon blocks it and then counters with a punch of his own that knocks Matt to the ground in a heap

 

“YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

 

“I think Wes just auditioned to be Lex Luthor” King says as Wes starts to beat up Matt “Superman” Myers

 

“I heard that he was once up for the part that Dean Cain had in that TV show… or was it Terri Hatcher’s part?”

 

“He was up WHO’S part?” King asks suddenly interested in what Pete has to say.

 

“Nevermind”

 

With “Superman’s” ass kicking well in hand Spike and Fury turn their attention back towards the 70s Dude instead. Spike strikes low with a leg sweep from behind while Fury strikes high with a drop kick to the big man’s face knocking the 70s Dude for a loop. Cortez has managed to get the Ghost Machine V2.0 up on his shoulder, then he quickly wraps an arm around Ghost Machine’s neck and..

 

“NECKWRECKER!!” Pete yells out as Todd scores a high impact move on Ghost Machine

 

COR-TEZ!! COR-TEZ!! COR-TEZ!! COR-TEZ!! COR-TEZ!!

 

Todd is quickly back on his feet as Ghost Machine shivers and shakes like a machine that’s jammed with a wrench. Todd looks around the ring, he sees that Fury and Spike are busy trying to lift the 70s Dude out of the ring in one corner and that Wes is busy introducing Matt “Superman” Myers to a world of pain as he drops him straight down with a Scorpion Death Drop.

 

“Malfunction junction for Ghost Machine – I bet he wasn’t programmed to accept a Neckwrecker as input” Pete says

 

“Whu?” Is all King can say as he’s just too cool for software jokes.

 

Eyeing a golden opportunity to audition as the villain in the inevitable “Superman Returns… again” movie Wes locks on a double chicken win on Myers as he’s face down on the canvas before flipping over forward to put an incredible amount of pressure on Myers and thus also an incredible amount of pain

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!”

 

“Well that’s not very “Super” now is it Myers?” says King, chiding Matt for breaking character.

 

“You try to remain quiet when locked into the “Six Degrees of Separation” King and then you can comment.

 

TEN!!

 

NINE!!

 

EIGHT!!

 

SEVEN!!

 

SIX!!

 

FIVE!!

 

FOUR!!

 

THREE!!

 

TWO!!

 

After letting Matt suffer for a while Ghost Machine stomps Wes in the stommach to make him release the hold and then resumes the attack on Wes Davenport he started earlier in the night.

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

”Oh, Oh, Oh, Ohoo little China girl”

 

“It’s the Joshi Dragon!!” Pete exclaims as the petite Japanese woman enters an SWF arena for the first time in quite a while.

 

“Chicks who want to go in there with 19 guys…” King begins to say but the realizes he can’t actually finish his thought without a HUGE fine.

 

The moment Candace Okimura enters the ring the 70s Dude approaches her, but not to attack her instead he seems to be saying something to her that the closest camera picks up.

 

“Hey baby did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” the suave (and shaggy) Dude says winking at her

 

Of course the corny come on line just draws an eye roll from the Joshi Dragon. The 70s Dude seems to totally have lost interest in the match, he doesn’t seem to notice Todd Cortez and Spike Jenkins landing a double drop kick on Ghost Machine V2.0 sending the “robot” into the corner. The 70s Dude only has eyes for Candace and tries once more to impress her

 

“If I said you had a beautiful body would you press it against me all night long” the Dude says. He figures he’s scored her and goes for a kiss

 

*SLAP!!*

 

But five Japanese fingers across the cheek tells the 70s Dude that he may NOT have scored after all. The cameras seem to focus on the exchange between the 70s Dude and Joshi Dragon but they still manage to capture Wes Davenport’s picture perfect delivery of a tilt-a-whirl slam on Matt “Superman” Myers.

 

“I guess she TOLD him” says Pete

 

“Just cause they slap you doesn’t mean they don’t want you” King says, speaking from personal experience.

 

The 70s Dude looks shocked, totally shocked that she slapped him, in an instant he switches from hitting ON her to just hitting her as he lands a couple of powerful blocks to the back of Candace’s neck. Then he grabs the very light Japanese woman around the throat and heaves her CLEAR OVER THE TOP ROPE TO THE FLOOR!!

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

“Some men just don’t take rejection well” King says.

 

“The Joshi Dragon was a short visitor in the ClusterFuck but maybe this is a sign of her returning to regular competition” Pete says as a disappointed Candace Okimura walks to the back.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Candace ”The Joshi Dragon”

ENTERED: #12

LEFT: 5th

ELIMINATED: None

ELIMINATED BY: The 70s dude

LEFT IN RING: Spike Jenkins, Christian Fury, Ghost Machine 2.0, the 70s Dude, Wes Davenport, Todd Cortez, Matt Myers

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The Dude brushes off his hands and then turns his attention back towards the ring, and just in time too as he is able to move out of the way of a Todd Cortez sending the Urban Legend chest first into the top turnbuckle. The Dude grabs Todd by the tights and tries to shove him further over the top but before he can succeed Christian Fury saves Todd from elimination as he takes the dude down with a Twist of Fate

 

“Out of nowhere!!” Pete says.

 

“Really? Out of nowhere? Do they have a factory there?” King quips, but the EWR joke is obviously lost on Pete.

 

TEN!!

 

NINE!!

 

EIGHT!!

 

Wes and Ghost Machine seems to once again be going at it as they exchange lefts and rights in the corner.

 

SEVEN!!

 

SIX!!

 

FIVE!!

 

FOUR!!

 

THREE!!

 

TWO!!

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

The bright flashes and Disturbed’s “I’m alive” brings Kevin Coyote out into the arena as the crowd boos the arrogant newcomer. Kevin just waves them off and heads for the ring, the second the rookie steps through the ropes everyone else in the ring have stopped fighting and are staring at him – preparing to give the rookie a taste of what it’s like to swim with the SWF sharks.

 

“Look at Kevin stop dead in his tracks” King says as he tries to suppress a laugh.

 

“It looks like they’re drawing straws to see who gets to welcome Coyote to the ring”

 

“They have straws??” King says, totally no selling Pete’s metaphor.

 

Matt Myers takes a bold, heroic step forward to volunteer for the job but is quickly kicked in the gut by Spike Jenkins to show him his place in the order of things. Fury, Ghost Machine and the Dude rush the rookie and throws him hard into the corner before laying a series of hard chops on the chest of the Coyote

 

*CHOP!* WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

Fury hits a perfectly placed knife edge chop across Coyote’s chest. Ghost Machine grabs Kevin’s “Injustice for all” T-shirt by the collar and tears it open before he adds a chop of his own striking the bare skin.

 

*CLANG!* WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

The 70s Dude makes a big production deal out of twirling his hands in the air before landing a chop of his own – the Dude’s chop isn’t as perfectly executed as Fury’s nor as precise as Ghost Machine’s, in fact the Dude ends up striking Coyote in the throat area instead

 

“Woops” the Dude says pretty unconvincingly.

 

Machine and the Dude grabs the hurting Kevin Coyote and whips him towards the center of the ring where he’s greeted by a Tilt-a-whirl back breaker from Wes Davenport and then a quick knee drop to the chest by Spike Jenkins. The unity there was in putting an arrogant rookie in his place is soon lost though as Ghost Machine V2.0 once again attacks Wes Davenport and everyone seems to pair off again.

 

“Welcome to the ClusterFuck Kevin – may your stay be painful” King says as Kevin Coyote finally gets a moment to breathe.

 

Todd raises Matt Myers up in the air by the red underwear he chose to wear on the outside of his trunks and then drops “Superwegie” down onto his knee for a Crotch-Droppah!! The 70s Dude has caught Spike by surprise as he’s managed to lock him up in a suplex position and then drops Hollywood Spike Jenkins on his head with a Fisherman’s Buster.

 

“Maybe the 70s Dude will knock some sense into Spike” Pete says as he shows his disapproval of some of the short cuts Spike has taken tonight.

 

“Knock some sense into? Just knock him OUT of the ring instead, much easier” King replies.

 

TEN!!

 

NINE!!

 

EIGHT!!

 

SEVEN!!

 

SIX!!

 

FIVE!!

 

FOUR!!

 

THREE!!

 

TWO!!

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

*BANG!!*

 

”EVERYBODY DANCE NOW!!”

 

“OOOH YEAH!! Talk about a good position to have for a power house like the Crimson Skull – it’s over half way through the match and it’s mainly Cruiserweights in the ring” King says as he waits for the arrival of the man from Kiev.

 

“Coming it at #14 can prove to be lucky for the Skull, he’s yet to win big but if his evil ways are successful tonight he’ll be rocketed to INSTANT super stardom.” Pete adds as the dancers come out shaking what their mommies (and plastic surgeons) gave them.

 

Skull swaggers out on the stage looking all fired up and ready to take over the world, starting with the 8 men in the ring and the rest of the participants. Once Skull reaches the ring he steps over the top rope and looks like a giant among the many smaller, lighter competitors. Todd Cortez is the first victim of the Skull as the big man drives him into the corner with a spear.

 

“WHOA BABY!! We’re cooking with Crimson fire now” King says all excitedly.

 

“Crimson Flame? Are you ON something?” Pete asks.

 

Fury tries to stop the Crimson Skull but ends up driven into the canvas with a massive Belly to Belly suplex that shakes the ring from sheer power and impact. Coyote is finally getting somewhere as he manages to take Todd Cortez down with a Tornado DDT taking advantage of Skull’s spear on Todd just moments before.

 

“See an opportunity, take an opportunity – something Kevin seems to have learned already” King says.

 

“That’s the advantage of being part of our Smark Enough contest – which reminds me season two try outs are coming up soon” Pete says

 

“*cough* Shill *cough*” King says and then makes ass-kisser sounds at Pete.

 

Hollywood easily leaps over a charging Matt Myers as the “Superman” tries to gain the advantage over the “marathon man” but Spike Jenkins no sells super heroes every day damn it! The second he lands behind Matt’s back he grabs the Superdork by the cape and uses it to assist him in a neckbreaker on Matt Myers

 

“Spike has been ALL business tonight King, I’m beginning to think he could do it” Pete says, obviously impressed with Spike’s performance so far.

 

“Yeah I don’t think so okay? In fact if I was a gambling man I’d bet on him being eliminated next” King says showing very little faith in Spike’s chances.

 

Spike still has a firm grip on Matt’s cape and uses it to pull the journey man into a fireman’s carry position and then casually takes two steps backwards to dump Mr. Myers over the top.

 

“It’s a brick!!” King says

 

TEN!!

 

“It’s a bag of hammers” Pete adds actually getting the joke for once

 

NINE!!

 

“No it’s Matt Myers flying out of the 2006 ClusterFuck!” King closes.

 

EIGHT!!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matt Myers

ENTERED: #11

LEFT: 6th

ELIMINATED: None

ELIMINATED BY: Hollywood Spike Jenkins

LEFT IN RING: Spike Jenkins, Christian Fury, Ghost Machine 2.0, the 70s Dude, Wes Davenport, Todd Cortez, Kevin Coyote, Crimson Skull

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

SEVEN!!

 

SIX!!

 

FIVE!!

 

FOUR!!

 

THREE!!

 

TWO!!

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

PREPARE...FOR...LANDON!"

 

...WAAAAAHHHHH...

 

“Ah crap” King slips in as there is a moment of silence in Landon Maddix’s entrance music.

 

*DUM DUM*

 

With “Megalomaniac” playing on full blast Landon Maddix steps into the arena with an arrogant smirk holding up two fingers to indicate that he’s about to repeat his victory from last year. After taking in all the boos and the jeers Landon takes off running towards the ring, sliding under the bottom rope and into the center of the ring before anyone in the ring can react.

 

“Alright I’ll personally pay someone a thousand dollars if the next person eliminated is Maddix” King says pulling out his wallet to prove how serious he is.

 

The first person Landon targets is Todd Cortez, they’ve been fighting for so long now that it’s just second nature for Maddix to leap at him with a flying forearm that knocks Cortez into the corner. A quick bounce on the second rope and Maddix shows a flash of his speedy style as he throws Cortez into the center of the ring with a Hurri-Lanrana.

 

“No, no, no that’s no way to ear a grand” an exasperated King says.

 

“Why not go down there and do it yourself” Pete says hoping that King would either drop his grudge against Maddix or take it to the ring.

 

“Don’t think I wouldn’t do it if none of these guys can get the job done.” King fires back, actually contemplating the suggestion for a moment.

 

After having worked over Ghost Machine 2.0 with a series of powerful kicks and elbows the 70s Dude pushes the disk fragmented Ghost Machine back in the ropes and then raises his right arm in the air as he takes a few steps away to get some distance for what he has in mind. Moving quicker than you’d think a big man can the 70s Dude runs at his victim / opponent and tries to clothesline himself and Ghost Machine V2.0 over the top rope. Unfortunately for the 70s Dude Ghost Machine can react with over 200 calculations a nano seconds and thus figures out that the easiest thing to do is drop to the canvas and let the 70s Dude hit the ropes on his own.

 

“There he goe… no wait, he’s not out” King says changing his story mid sentence as the 70s Dude ends up with his right hand trapped between the twisted up top and middle rope.

 

“Well… erm… if he stays tied up in the ropes he’s a sure fire participant in the final 3 way dance” is all Pete can think of to say as they watch a couple of referees jump up on the apron to help twist the 70s Dude’s arm out of the rope trap.

 

Ghost Machine even lends a hand and helps the 70s Dude get loose, the Dude pulls his hand backwards, raises it triumphantly in the air and then

 

Falls backwards as the Ghost Machine extends his right arm and then pokes the 70s Dude in the chest, upsetting his delicate balance on the edge of the apron.

 

“Oh man the dreaded “Finger poke of Uncomfort”” Pete says as he tries to keep from laughing

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The 70s Dude

ENTERED: #8

LEFT: 7th

ELIMINATED: The Joshi Dragon

ELIMINATED BY: Ghost Machine V2.0

LEFT IN RING: Spike Jenkins, Christian Fury, Ghost Machine 2.0, Wes Davenport, Todd Cortez, Kevin Coyote, Crimson Skull, Landon Maddix

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

TEN!!

 

“One goes out, and another one enters. We’re up to 16 in this match” Pete says informing everyone of just how far from the end we are

 

NINE!!

 

EIGHT!!

 

SEVEN!!

 

“Five more people to go, five people with great odds” King says

 

SIX!!

 

FIVE!!

 

Christian Fury and Todd Cortez have teamed up and are trying to throw Kevin Coyote over the top rope to the floor, hoping to eliminate the cocky newcomer.

 

FOUR!!

 

THREE!!

 

TWO!!

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

Once the buzzer sounds everyone is expecting music to start, but nothing happens, not a thing and no one walks out through the entrance either, much to the surprise and confusion of everyone in the arena.

 

“Come on, come on, come on, come on!” King says impatiently.

 

“Will this be the first year someone does a total no show? And who could it…” Pete stops as a thought crosses his mind

 

But before he can express that thought a big 6’7’’ monster of a man walks out arguing with one of the medical technicians. The second Bruce steps one cowboy inside the arena the crowd immediately starts to boo him, even the sorry state of the Trailerpark Messiah doesn’t gets him any sympathy from the crowd. The EMT is obviously trying to persuade Bruce to not enter the ring, pointing to his heavily bandaged forehead and his ear that took a lot of damage during the Japanese Death Match.

 

“I can’t believe he’s actually walking” Pete says and by the looks of a few of the competitors in the ring, neither can they.

 

“Well limping – man I got to say I don’t like his chances at ALL! I mean I’ve seen people in better shape after a car crash” King says as Bruce limps towards the ring with the EMT trying to block his way.

 

Bruce isn’t a man who subscribes to “common sense” and dismisses all warnings of risking his health when he just shoves the EMT out of the way striding towards the ring, one limp at the time. Quite a few of the participants in the ring are surprised to see Bruce even being able to walk to the ring. Spike Jenkins quickly shakes his surprise, then he bounces off the ropes on the opposite side of the entrance to build up speed and then

 

LEAPS THROUG THE ROPES DRIVING BRUCE TO THE GROUND WITH A SUICIDE DIVE!!

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!

 

“My god what was he thinking? Spike could have broken his neck on that stunt” Pete yells out as Spike lands on top of the already hurting Bruce and starts to pound away with repeated rights to Bruce’s bandaged up ear.

 

“You know I don’t think Spike likes Bruce at all” King deducts using all his Sherlock Holmeslike skills.

 

After driving his fist into Bruce’s skull a few more times Spike lets go of the Trailerpark Messiah and slides back in the ring, happy with the damage he's done to Bruce

 

“Bruce hasn’t even stepped in the ring and Spike has already busted him open” King laments as they see Bruce bleeding from under the bandage over his ear.

 

“The Japanese Deathmatch took it’s toll, frankly I think Bruce is a fool for requesting to be in this match as well” says Pete

 

As the action goes on in the ring Bruce slowly crawls up the ring steps, he’s already hurting but he’s determined to compete in the ClusterFuck match.

 

TEN!!

 

NINE!!

 

At nine Bruce crawls into the ring ensuring that he’s still in the match

 

EIGHT!!

 

SEVEN!!

 

“You know Bruce is so big and heavy that very few men can lift him off the ground if he chooses to stay down” King points out

 

SIX!!

 

FIVE!!

 

“Good point” is all Pete can say as it IS a good point.

 

FOUR!!

 

THREE!!

 

TWO!!

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

THE KING...HAS...RETURNED!

 

“I never left” The Suicide King quickly interjects in case his millions… and millions of fans thought he wasn’t in the arena.

 

Saliva’s “Superstar” kicks in as a different king than the Suicide King enters the arena: “the Icon” Max King. Unlike both Landon and Bruce Max has opted to wear his title to the ring as he proudly displays the SWF tag-team title gold strapped around his waist. Landon seems to be the only person in the ring who’s stopped and taken any notice of Max King sauntering down the aisle, everyone else is busy fighting. Bruce is busy trying to stay in the match as both Spike Jenkins and Wes Davenport and trying to lift the big man up from his crouched down position near the ropes. Ghost Machine and Kevin Coyote are taking turns hitting Todd Cortez as the Urban Legend ping-pongs back and forth between them. And Crimson Skull? Crimson Skull is busy doing something totally evil and reprehensible by just standing there and enjoying everyone else beating each other up.

 

“We are 3 from the end here King and there are quite a few guys in the ring” Pete says

 

“We’ve been low on eliminations so far, but high on action and drama” King says sounding like he was shilling the latest NBC “Edgy drama series”

 

Max has finally reached ringside, figuring that he wouldn’t mind if someone was eliminated before he entered. Once at ringside he removes the Tag-Team title and then quickly rolls under the bottom rope and stands up

 

Face to face with Landon Maddix!!

 

“These guys are the champs, but if you think they’re united you’re dead wrong!” Pete says as the stare intensifies between King and Landon.

 

“Max has been on Landon’s tail since he returned, he’s been besting him at every turn and now keeps him close by teaming with him” King adds.

 

Both Landon and Max seem to be talking a LOT of trash to each other, neither backing down, neither moving an inch – UNTIL THE CRIMSON SKULL KNOCKS THEIR HEADS TOGETHER!!

 

“YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

The favorable reaction from the crowd surprises the Crimson Skull

 

“Maddix hate is a universal feeling” King explains.

 

Right behind Skull’s massive back Coyote is working over the man that every entrant seems to just HAVE to get a shot in, Bruce Blank – he’s got the big man trapped in the corner under the bottom rope and he’s actually STANDING on Bruce’s throat with one foot as he uses the ropes for balance.

 

“You know if Kevin can bring that kind of intensity to EVERY match then he could go fa-“ King is cut off before he can finish his thought as Todd Cortez nails Coyote with a flying forearm that knocks him off Bruce.

 

As Todd and Kevin exchange fists in the corner Bruce drags himself to his feet, drawing deep breaths of air as he tries to recover from Coyote’s attack.

 

TEN!!

 

NINE!!

 

“Alright let’s add another mad man to the asylum” King says as the countdown starts up again.

 

EIGHT!!

 

SEVEN!!

 

SIX!!

 

The fans are on their feet as Ghost Machine, Crimson Skull and Bruce Blank are pooling their effort to throw Hollywood Spike Jenkins over the top rope.

 

FIVE!!

 

FOUR!!

 

“Oh man Spike is teetering on the edge” Pete says as they keep one eye on the clock and one on the action in the ring

 

THREE!!

 

TWO!!

 

“I’ve said it all along: Spike will be eliminated next” King boasts as it looks like that guess is about to come true.

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

“I’m Born”

 

That’s all the Smarktron gets to show before a khaki colored speedster runs from the back and breaks the 100 yard dash record on the way to the ring.

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!

 

“It’s another champion – Zyon is wasting no time heading to the ring” Pete says in case the youngster is moving too fast for the people at home.

 

The Unique Youth leaps up on the apron and then uses the top rope to provide enough momentum to leap up on the top rope quicker than you can say “Damn he’s fast”. After balancing on the top rope for a mere fraction of a second Zyon leaps half way across the ring and recklessly throws his body against Skull, Blank and Ghost Machine to knock all three of them down.

 

“HE SAVED SPIKE!!” Pete yells out in surprise

 

“Idiot” is all King can say.

 

“Now Spike may have come off a bit hot headed lately but they’re still friends” Pete says.

 

With the three men down Spike is saved from elimination once again, but it’s not a look of approval that he gives Zyon but something much darker, much more annoyed instead. Spike yells something at Zyon but before the Unique Youth can respond he’s flattened by a Maddix kick that catches the Cruiserweight champion totally off guard.

 

“That’s what you get for not paying attention” Spike is overheard muttering as Spike then in turn lands a stiff lariat on Landon.

 

“You think he was he talking about Zyon or Landon?” Pete asks

 

“Yes” is the only enigmatic answer that King gives in return.

 

Max King is poised to lock on the Katihajime on Bruce Blank but his plans are foiled by the Crimson Skull who attacks Max either to save Bruce or just because he felt like beating Max King up, hard to tell really. But if Bruce thought he was safe he’s mistaken as he knocked down by Wes Davenport as he tackles Ghost Machine V2.0 into the King of Pain.

 

“Wes Davenport and Ghost Machine V2.0 have been on each other from the moment the Ghost Machine saw Wes come down the aisle” Pete says.

 

“I wonder if a robot can hold a grudge? If he is a robot that is” Pete says.

 

“Are you saying Benner Corp. Would lie to you?” King says defending the integrity of faceless conglomerates all over the world.

 

Zyon strikes Kevin Coyote with a drop kick, knocking the rookie into Spike as Hollywood tries to suplex Landon but instead ends up falling over with Landon crashing down on top of him.

 

TEN!!

 

NINE!!

 

Spike shoots Zyon a really nasty glare but he’s not able to follow up on the glare as Landon takes him down with a drop toe hold.

 

EIGHT!!

 

SEVEN!!

 

SIX!!

 

FIVE!!

 

FOUR!!

 

THREE!!

 

“We’ve got 2 more to go!! And loads of people can still win this” Pete says.

 

TWO!!

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

”Everything feels good, nothin' can stop me”

 

“IT’S THE JAPANESE HAMMER” Pete yells even though he’s properly mike’d and doesn’t really have to yell at all.

 

TORU walks out without any hint of emotion on his face, as always, he doesn’t acknowledge any fans or do anything other than march straight to the ring focusing on Max King and Landon Maddix. As he approaches the ring he quickly whips off his jacket, but keeps his shades on as he steps through the ropes.

 

“No sign of Card or Natasha, have they parted ways after Chris Card was unable to deliver a tag-team partner good enough the keep the titles?” King ponders as the Japanese Hammer leaps into action by knocking Bruce Blank down with a stiff laria

[Bruce Blank 0]

(and part 2)

 

“No sign of Card or Natasha, have they parted ways after Chris Card was unable to deliver a tag-team partner good enough the keep the titles?” King ponders as the Japanese Hammer leaps into action by knocking Bruce Blank down with a stiff lariat before continuing onwards in Max and Landon’s direction.

 

“Everyone get out of TORU’s way” Pete says as Bruce ends up as TORU’s first hapless victim of the night.

 

“And the shades are STILL ON! Now that’s the epitome of bad ass!” King says as TORU strikes Landon in the neck with a forearm and still somehow manages to keep the shades on

 

The Japanese Hammer’s path of destruction continues as he drop kicks Spike into the corner while still managing to keep his shades on somehow. But with the momentary distraction the tag-team champions get the opening they need and NAIL TORU in the face with a double drop kick in a rare sign of unity.

 

“They broke his shades! Damn TORU will be pissed now” King says

 

“Oh so that’s worse than beating him for the tag-team titles? He wasn’t pissed off until now?” Pete asks.

 

Ghost Machine and the Red Skull have cornered Wes Davenport and are taking turns laying the kicks in as the fans boo them and hope for divine intervention on Wes’ behalf. With the first name “Christian” Fury is really the only one that fits the bill and he’s more than happy to break up the double team and then help Wes fight the two masked men off.

 

“Why save someone? You want EVERYONE but you eliminated” King says questioning Fury’s tactics.

 

Fury offers Wes a handshake in the midst of all the action, but before Wes can even decide if he wants to shake Fury’s hand the Crimson Skull takes the choice out of his hand and into his own hands: The hands wrapped around Fury’s throat to be precise. One quick choke toss later and Christian Fury’s ClusterFuck hopes are shattered as the Skull is simply too powerful to block.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christian Fury

ENTERED: #6

LEFT: 8th

ELIMINATED: Stryke, Manson

ELIMINATED BY: Crimson Skull

LEFT IN RING: Spike Jenkins, Ghost Machine 2.0, Wes Davenport, Todd Cortez, Kevin Coyote, Crimson Skull, Landon Maddix, Bruce Blank, Max King, Zyon, TORU

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Kevin Coyote tries to sneak up on Wes Davenport and thus get a chance to eliminate him as he’s still reeling from the Crimson Skull / Ghost Machine double team, but we all know just how much Wes hates to be upstaged and the star of “Killer Bananas invade Kuwait” quickly ducks under Kevin’s arms, grabs him by the seat of his blue jeans and flips him over the top rope

 

“HE’S OUTTA HERE!!” King says taking up his duties as the official SWF Umpire

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kevin Coyote

ENTERED: #13

LEFT: …

 

 

Kevin has managed to hold on to the top rope as he flips over the top to the floor, now his left foot quite clearly touches the ground but he tries his best to keep his right foot from touching the ground as it swings down. The closest referee tells Kevin that’s he’s eliminated and has to head for the back.

 

“WHAT? My right foot never touched the ground dog” Kevin complains as he makes sure not to accidentally put his right foot down.

 

“I guess he is out?” Pete says going with the referee’s ruling.

 

“Not quietly though” King adds.

 

Coyote keeps arguing, even threatening to hit the referee as the action goes on back in the ring. After arguing with Kevin Coyote for a few moments the referee motions for William Hearford to come and make the final ruling. The moment the man nick named “Judge” Coyote starts to adamantly shake his head, knowing exactly what’s coming

 

“YOU’RE OUTTA HERE” Judge says to remove any and all doubt about the official position.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kevin Coyote

ENTERED: #13

LEFT: 9th

ELIMINATED: None

ELIMINATED BY: Wes Davenport

LEFT IN RING: Spike Jenkins, Ghost Machine 2.0, Wes Davenport, Todd Cortez, Crimson Skull, Landon Maddix, Bruce Blank, Max King, Zyon, TORU

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Todd Cortez has Landon set up for the Riot Act Plus, but before he can leap over La Cucaracha’s head TORU knocks the much smaller Cortez half way across the ring with a running shoulder tackle as the clock begins to count down for the final time.

 

TEN!!

 

“Last guy” King says as he gets all fired up for the finishing portion of the match.

 

NINE!!

 

EIGHT!!

 

Spike and Max King are exchanging right hands in the corner as Zyon gets knocked down by a big boot from Ghost Machine V2.0

 

SEVEN!!

 

SIX!!

 

“Who’s left? Laberinto?” Pete asks revealing that his memory isn’t what it used to be

 

FIVE!!

 

FOUR!!

 

“He was eliminated earlier remember?” King fires back as he reaches for the list of participants to figure out who #20 is

 

THREE!!

 

TWO!!

 

TORU quickly picks up the 295 pound Bruce Blank and then drops him face first on the corner turnbuckle, adding to the damage already done to Bruce and smearing his blood all over to top turnbuckle cover.

 

ONE!!

 

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

 

”Face down in the gutter won't admit defeat though his clothes are soiled and black,

He's a big, strong man with a child’s mind, don't you take his booze away!”

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!

 

The sound of “Barroom hero” draws a big pop from the crowd as Tim Dillon is the 20th and last competitor in the ClusterFuck match. Instead of coming down the aisle Tim pops up in the crowd holding a pint of Guinness in one hand and proudly waving the Irish flag with the other.

 

“And that’s 20, that means one of these guys will win it” King says as the crowd chants along with Tim.

 

OI! OI! OI! OI! OI! OI! OI!OI!OI!-OI!

 

“That’s 11 people with a shot – well 10 people and Spike who doesn’t have a chance… well 9 people, one waste of space and Spike” King says remembering that Landon is still among the participants.

 

“11 people with a chance, ANYONE of those guys could win it” Pete points out

 

“Except Landon” King interjects

 

“Even Landon” Pete shoots back.

 

After chugging the Guinness Dillon makes his way through the crowd to join the action the ring where the winner of the 2006 ClusterFuck is located. Tim slides under the bottom rope next to where Bruce is laid out from a TORU elbow. Dillon sees the Ghost Machine’s attack coming from a mile away and quickly counters the running charge into one of his patented monkey flips that launches the Benner Corp property over the top rope. Dillon quickly leaps back to his feet and does a little victory jig as he’s just eliminated Ghost Machine V2.0

 

Or so he assumes.

 

But Ghost Machine makes an ass out of y… Tim Dillon actually as he’s managed to hang on to the top rope and then quickly inverts his movement replay – in other words he skins the cat by flipping himself back over the top. The fact that GM isn’t elimination is made very clear to Tim when he finds the Machine’s powerful piston legs wrapped around his neck in a reverse huracanrana position before pulling the Irish Lager Lad over the top rope and neatly deposits him on the floor.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim Dillon

ENTERED: #19

LEFT: 10th

ELIMINATED: None

ELIMINATED BY: Ghost Machine V2.0

LEFT IN RING: Ghost Machine 2.0, Wes Davenport, Todd Cortez, Crimson Skull, Landon Maddix, Bruce Blank, Max King, TORU, Spike Jenkins, Zyon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“What kind of warped mind programs such Insane Luchador moves into a robot?” Pete says, forgetting if they’re playing along or trying to deny the robot gimmick this week.

 

“It worked though didn’t it? And isn’t that really all that matters?

 

Davenport, Todd and TORU have all ganged up on the Crimson Skull and are driving him towards the ropes with a relentless series of kicks and punches. Moments later Ghost Machine, Spike and Landon Maddix join in as the 6 of them try to lift the Super villain over the top rope. Skull hangs on by hook and by crook and it’s not until Zyon, Max King and finally a bloodied Bruce join in that it actually looks like they’re going to kick Skull out

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!

 

Skull kicks backwards hard, knocking Spike and Landon back. Then he begins to elbow the other attackers taking Zyon, Bruce and Wes Davenport down with each blow. Skull pokes TORU in the eyes and shoves Ghost Machine off as he gets off the ropes and back onto his feet

 

“Man what power!” King says admiringly

 

SUPERKICK FROM TODD CORTEZ!!

 

“Man what a kick” Pete says admiringly as Todd Cortez hits a picture perfect Superkick, the kind of Superkick you only see once in maybe 200 attempts.

 

A Superkick so awesome that the Crimson Skull is unable to stop himself from flipping backwards over the top rope to the floor and thus out of the match

 

COR-TEZ!! COR-TEZ!! COR-TEZ!! COR-TEZ!! COR-TEZ!!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crimson Skull

ENTERED: #14

LEFT: 11th

ELIMINATED: Christian Fury

ELIMINATED BY: Todd Cortez

LEFT IN RING: Ghost Machine 2.0, Wes Davenport, Todd Cortez, Landon Maddix, Bruce Blank, Max King, TORU, Spike Jenkins, Zyon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The Japanese Hammer strikes both Max and Landon with a double lariat knocking them back against the ropes – eyeing the opportunity to eliminate BOTH tag-team champions and gain some revenge from the title loss TORU quickly runs towards the opposite side of the ring to gain some momentum for a MEGA-ULTRA-NASTY-STIFF DOUBLE LARIAAAAAAAAAAATOO!!

 

“YOU BASTARD!!” Pete yells as Bruce quickly pulls down the top rope without TORU realizing it and thus sending the Japanese heavyweight tumbling over the top, landing on his ass on the apron before momentum carries him further on and flips him to the floor.

 

“Hey now an elimination is an elimination. I didn’t think Bruce was in any state to eliminate anyone – but he seems to prove us wrong repeatedly by still being in the match” King replies as TORU fires off one final “double bird” salute to the remaining participants in the ring and then storms out of the arena.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TORU

ENTERED: #19

LEFT: 12th

ELIMINATED: None

ELIMINATED BY: Bruce Blank

LEFT IN RING: Ghost Machine 2.0, Wes Davenport, Todd Cortez, Landon Maddix, Bruce Blank, Max King, Spike Jenkins, Zyon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Landon has Todd right where he wants him, you know he’ll be bragging for weeks if he is the one to kick Todd out of the ring” Pete says as Landon has Todd draped over his shoulder as he tries to push him out of the ring

 

“Meh he’ll choke – it’s what he does” King replies.

 

Todd tries his best to hold on to the top rope as Landon raises his opponent’s legs up high in the air resulting in Todd being held upside down with only a steel cable keeping him from dropping face first to the ground. A quick double poke to the eye breaks Todd’s concentration and his grip on the rope as well.

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

The crowd hates to see Todd Cortez eliminated and by Landon no less but it’s a fact that Cortez is out as he falls to the ground pretty hard.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Todd Cortez

ENTERED: #10

LEFT: 13th

ELIMINATED: The Crimson Skull

ELIMINATED BY: Landon Maddix

LEFT IN RING: Ghost Machine 2.0, Wes Davenport, Landon Maddix, Bruce Blank, Max King, Spike Jenkins, Zyon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Landon hardly gets a second to celebrate eliminating a hated rival before his CURRENT hated rival (and tag-team partner) sneaks up behind La Cucaracha and flips him over the top rope to the floor again.

 

“No truce between the tag-team champions!” King says as Max King raises his hands in the air and grins as he eliminated his tag-team partner

 

or as he THINKS he’s eliminated his tag-team partner. Because Landon actually lucked out and ended up standing Todd Cortez’s chest instead of the floor and thus he’s technically not eliminated yet.

 

“Man Landon must have cornered the market on 4 leaf clovers cause he just got EXTREMELY lucky” Pete says as Landon quickly slides under the bottom rope into the ring behind Max King’s back and then clobbers him with a series of forearm shots to the back of the head that knocks Max to the ground.

 

“Now there is a smart move by Max” King says as Max seeks refuge on the floor by sliding under the bottom rope to get away from Landon’s onslaught.

 

“Smart? He ran like a coward” Pete says

 

“No, no, no, no – he’s regrouping.” Says King defending Max’s actions.

 

Zyon is tied up in the ropes with Ghost Machine, both of them jockeying for the better position, meanwhile Landon Maddix finds himself between Zyon and Spike who’s busy punching Bruce in head repeatedly. Landon looks at Zyon’s back, then he looks at Spike’s back and smirks

 

“Uh-oh Landon is up to something” Pete says.

 

Landon quickly strikes both Zyon and Spike in the back and then drops down to the canvas looking like he just got his ass kicked. When Spike turns around he sees Zyon standing there with Landon down, thinking that Zyon just hit him in the back, Zyon of course thinks that Spike just took a cheap shot at him as well and the tempers begin to flare.

 

“I’ve been waiting for this since Zyon entered, it’s time to see if Spike REALLY wants to win at all costs or not” King says as the two friends begin to argue in the ring.

 

Spike cannot believe the betrayal and slaps Zyon across the cheek as he looks pissed off. The slap shocks Zyon for a moment, but then he leaps at Spike, grabs him around the head and starts to wail away at him as the two of them quickly deteriorate into a heated fist fight that drives both of them back into the ropes

 

“This has been brewing for a while in fact they’ve both been on edge since Zyon entered the ring and saved Spike. So King, do you still think Spike will be eliminated next?”

 

“I’ve never said that? I’ve clearly stated several times that Maddix will be the next one to go” King replies, denying all allegations from Pete.

 

With Zyon and Spike exchanging blows as they each try to eliminate the other Ghost Machine easily gets behind them unnoticed, reaches down and after having calculated their Archimedes point to the 8th decimal he grabs both of them by the legs and just casually flipping them over the top rope to the floor

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zyon

ENTERED: #18

LEFT: 14th

ELIMINATED: None

ELIMINATED BY: Ghost Machine V2.0

LEFT IN RING: Ghost Machine 2.0, Wes Davenport, Landon Maddix, Bruce Blank, Max King

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hollywood Spike Jenkins

ENTERED: #1

LEFT: 15th

ELIMINATED: Jason Von Dierch, Matt Myers

ELIMINATED BY: Ghost Machine V2.0

LEFT IN RING: Ghost Machine 2.0, Wes Davenport, Landon Maddix, Bruce Blank, Max King

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

“DOUBLE ELIMINATION!! SPIKE’S DREAMS HAVE BEEN SQUASHED!!” Pete yells out as two of the odds on favorites have been eliminated in one fell swoop.

 

“I knew it, I’ve said it all along – Spike is going out as #15” King says conveniently ignoring that he’s predicted elimination for Spike since the opening bell.

 

Spike can’t believe he got eliminated, he just sits there on the floor with a shocked expression on his face as he’s informed that it’s over, that his dream of winning the match from the #1 position is not coming through. Zyon is already on his feet and about to walk to the back when Spike grabs his leg and starts to yell at him, blaming Zyon for the elimination. Back in the ring the remaining 5 competitors battle it out to see who’ll stand supreme in the end.

 

“We’re two more eliminations away from the 3 way dance, but who’s next to go out?” Pete ponders

 

“Good money would be on Blank, he’s been behind from the second he walked through the curtains, he can’t take much more punishment” King says as we all watch Wes Davenport take the beaten and bloodied Bruce down with a European upper cut.

 

“We’ve also got Landon and Max just tearing the stuffing out of each other” Pete points out as the two tag-team champions haven’t stopped wailing away at each other since Max King almost eliminated his partner.

 

With Bruce down Wes turns his attention to the one man that’s been targeting him through out the entire match: Ghost Machine V2.0. The Movie star avoids a running big boot by ducking under it and then nails Ghost Machine in the back with a stiff knee hitting him in the place where humans have kidneys

 

“Did he hit Ghost Machine’s “Reset” Button?” King wonders as the knee seems to really have hurt Ghost Machine.

 

“Could be a software glitch – like how Windows shuts down after running for too long” Pete speculates.

 

But Wes doesn’t question his luck at all, instead he quickly lifts Ghost Machine up in the air laying across Wes’ shoulders as he applies the Torture Rack on his “robot” opponent. Since Wes is 110% focused on trying to inflict pain on Ghost Machine V2.0 he doesn’t pay attention to what Bruce is up to, but the camera catches a shot of him pulling some sort of small paper package out of his pocket and then tearing it open.

 

“What’s he doing?” Pete asks

 

But before the Suicide King can make some sort of smart-ass remark Bruce shows everyone what’s in his hand as he throws salt in Wes’ unprotected face blinding the Hollywood film star

 

“THAT’S ILLEGAL!! DISQUALIFY HIM!!” Pete yells as Wes drops Ghost Machine and begins to blindly claw at his eyes.

 

“Have you ever heard of anyone getting disqualified in the ClusterFuck? Get real” King replies

 

Ghost Machine moves into the path of Wes’ stumble and then launches the big man up and over with the Railgun Suplex, up and over the TOP ROPE!!

 

“Oh no I had money on him” Pete says as Wes Davenport stumbles to the floor, not that he really cares right now as he’s busy being blind.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wes Davenport

ENTERED: #9

LEFT: 16th

ELIMINATED: Kevin Coyote

ELIMINATED BY: Ghost Machine V2.0

LEFT IN RING: Landon Maddix, Bruce Blank, Max King, Ghost Machine V2.0

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“One more elimination Pete” King says excitedly as the match is reaching it’s conclusion

 

“One of these four men needs to be thrown over the top rope and then we’ll have the deciding 3 way dance” Pete adds in case fans at home didn’t know what King was talking about.

 

Neither Landon nor King have really paid any attention to the others in the ring and just keep on brawling back and forth as Ghost Machine waves goodbye to Wes Davenport. Landon thrusts a thumb into Max’s eye and then quickly Irish whips him across the ring, the moment the Icon ricochets back towards him he executes a picture perfect drop kick to Max’s chest.

 

Ghost Machine detects a high probability of an elimination as he sees Bruce slumped against the ropes after pulling himself back upright.

 

Landon kips up from the drop kick

 

Ghost Machine runs at Bruce

 

Landon’s Supakick~! Hits Max square in the jaw sending him over the top rope

 

Bruce ducks down and then launches Ghost Machine up high in the air with a monster back drop that sees Ghost Machine clear the top rope by a good 3 feet

 

Max tumbles down and hits the apron with the side of his hip

 

Ghost Machine comes crashing down without any way of breaking the fall 6 to 8 feet down the aisle

 

The Icon flops off the apron and touches the ground mere moment after Ghost Machine did.

 

* DING!*DING!*DING!*DING!*

 

“Landon thinks he just eliminated Max King!” Pete says as Landon raises his arms in victory.

 

“He doesn’t know that Ghost Machine hit the ground just before Max did and that his tag-team partner is still in the match” King explains to those who may have thought both guys were eliminated.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ghost Machine V2.0

ENTERED: #7

LEFT: 17th

ELIMINATED: Laberinto, the 70s Dude, Tim Dillon, Zyon, Hollywood Spike, Wes Davenport

ELIMINATED BY: Bruce Blank

LEFT IN RING: Landon Maddix, Bruce Blank, Max King

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Landon turns around and sees only Bruce in the ring he’s surprised, then when he’s informed that Max King is actually STILL in the ring he’s pissed! But with the new more serious attitude comes a newfound focus which results in Landon focusing on Bruce Blank instead. He gets a running start and then dives down low, driving his right shoulder into Bruce’s knee from behind knocking the big man down.

 

“THE CHOPBLOCK OF DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!” Pete loudly says

 

“I can’t believe it!” King says

 

“What?”

 

“Landon actually used his head here – the chop block has been one of Bruce’s weaknesses in his time in the SWF” King says, almost admitting to not totally hating Landon… almost.

 

Landon quickly covers, hoping to score the win before Max King can return to the ring.

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

TH-MAXPULLEDBRUCE’SLEGUPONTHEROPE!!

 

At the last split second Max King races down the side of the ring and manages to pull Bruce’s cowboy clad foot up on the rope, maintaining his own shot at winning the match. When Landon looks around to see why the referee broke the count he’s greeted by an ultra stiff right hand straight to the jaw

 

*POW!!*

 

“Man Max put EVERYTHING into that one” Pete says as Landon falls backwards from the punch.

 

“I just realized that all three men in the ring right now are champions, we’ll have a reigning champion win this – that’s never happened before in ClusterFuck history” King points out.

 

Max enters the ring and once again ignores everyone in the ring that’s NOT named Landon Maddix, but then again Bruce is busy laying on the canvas and bleeding from his ear so he doesn’t seem to mind. Landon has enough presence of mind to duck under a running clothesline from Max and then slide through the Icon’s legs on his next attack taking advantage of his superior speed. As he slides through Max’s legs he hooks one of them and tries to roll him over into a Single Leg Boston Crab but Max rolls with the move and instead ends up sitting on Landon’s chest hooking one of his legs

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

But it’ll take more than a surprise roll up for Max to win the ClusterFuck title, Landon is so close he can taste the repeat and kicks out just after two. As the two tag-team champions fight Bruce has been left alone, which has allowed him to shake some of the cobwebs and get back to his feet although he’s far from steady yet.

 

“I can’t believe Bruce is still in here, he’s gotten beaten up through most of his time in the ring yet he’s got a shot at winning this” Pete says in disbelief.

 

“It’s not about HOW you win, but THAT you win” King informs Pete revealing his personal philosophy on wrestling.

 

Bruce quickly drops to the ground as Landon runs towards him, allowing La Cucaracha run step over him and pass him. When Max tries a similar attack a moment later Bruce opts to leap frog over the attacker this time but with the disastrous result of The Icon driving his head right into the ribs of the Ultraviolent champion.

 

“Oh what a fuck up! And at such a critical time too” Pete says

 

“And worst of all, It gives Landon the advantage damn it” King says, dreading the implications.

 

With Bruce on his knees in the corner holding his ribs Landon quickly gets his bearings in the match – he sees that Max is still staggered from accidentally head butting Bruce in the gut. La Cucaracha just can’t hide his disgust when he looks at Max, they may be tag-team champions but Landon would rather break Max’s neck than shake his hand.

 

A quick snapping gesture from Landon is one of the few mannerisms that Landon has kept from his less focused days. The signal is followed by Landon getting in position behind Max and then he quickly applies the Katihajime on Max King

 

“The Iconizer? Landon is going to take Max down with his own move?” Pete asks

 

“That didn’t work too well for Landon at Ramadomination if you’ll remember, then again very few things seem to work for Landon” King says

 

And just like it didn’t work at Ramadomination it doesn’t work here, Max King is too seasoned a pro to have his own move turned against him, instead he hits the Iconizer on Landon instead

 

“THAT’S GOT TO BE IT!!” King bellows “Max is this year’s winner”

 

“He could be, but he’s not covering him – he wants to do more damage” Pete says as Max drags Landon over to the corner opposite of where Bruce is kneeled down, quietly bleeding as the tag-team champions fight.

 

“That… that doesn’t make sense, if he injures Landon then it’s HIS title in jeopardy too” King says

 

But Max King doesn’t seem to care as he pulls Landon up to his feet and then over his shoulders to place La Cucaracha on the top turnbuckle. With Landon in position Max King climbs up on the second rope and locks Maddix’s head under his arm setting up the Superb-plex, then he shakes his head and climbs up on the TOP ROPE to add to the damage the Superb-plex usually does

 

“THIS IS IT!” King states categorically, looking forward to yet another humiliating Landon defeat.

 

“You forget this isn’t just a 2 horse race” Pete interjects as Bruce suddenly rises, obviously he had overplayed the damage the accidental collision had caused.

 

The moment Max gets his balance on the top rope Bruce strikes the Icon in the back with a double axe handle blow. The blow knocks both competitors outwards away from the ring. Max is lucky enough to slide down the turnbuckle as well as falling forward and he manages to stay in the ring, but Maddix is much less lucky – being perched basically on top of the corner post gives him no protection as he flies backwards through the air.

 

Smashing hard into the guardrail with a mighty. . .

 

*CRASH!!*

 

With Landon out of the picture at least for now Bruce wraps his massive arms around Max King’s waist from behind and hoists him off the turnbuckles, arching backwards as he drives Max into the canvas right on the side of the head and shoulder as he releases him moments before striking the canvas.

 

“HOLY SHIT HE MAY HAVE BROKEN MAX’S NECK!” Pete yells out as the angle of belly to back suplex looked sick!

 

“Can Bruce do it? Can he really pull it off” King ponders as Bruce rolls Max onto his back and then drops down across Max’s head and shoulders for a cover.

 

ONE!!!

 

 

 

 

“No one gave him a chance!” Pete says

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

“After the hell he went through in the Japanese Deathmatch? NO WAY” King says in total disbelief

 

 

 

 

THREE!!

 

“HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLY SHIT!!” King howls as the entire arena erupts in surprise, the fans may not like Bruce… well they DESPISE him but he pulled off the impossible.

 

“THE WINNER OF THE 2006 CLUSTERFUCK” Funyon booms, taking a moment to let what he just saw sink in “BRUCE BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK!!!”

 

“He was out – he’s been struggling the entire match due to the Ultraviolent title defense but somehow he manages to steal the victory” Pete says, not quite ready to believe what he had just seen.

 

“Un-fucking-believable” is the only word that the Suicide King can use to convey his thoughts right now.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Max King

ENTERED: #17

LEFT: 18th

ELIMINATED: None

ELIMINATED BY: Bruce Blank

LEFT IN RING: N/A

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Landon Maddix

ENTERED: #15

LEFT: 19th

ELIMINATED: Todd Cortez

ELIMINATED BY: N/A

LEFT IN RING: N/A

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It actually takes Bruce a moment or two after the announcement is made to react, he’s obviously in a lot of pain from the TWO matches he’s been subjected to tonight. He slowly rolls off Max King as the fireworks goes off and confetti drops from the ceiling to celebrate the winner of the 2006 ClusterFuck match. After getting up on his knees he looks around at the crowd, he looks almost as surprised as the fans in the audience that he actually won.

 

“Oh lord there’ll be no shutting him up now” says Pete as he dreads that Bruce’s ego will get even more out of control after this victory.

 

It finally dawns on Bruce that he’s won, it’s finally sunk in that he’s beaten 19 other SWF superstars, that he’s suffered through first an incredibly brutal Japanese Deathmatch and now he’s won the ClusterFuck match after taking quite a beating in the process. Of course winning the ClusterFuck match means

 

“WE’RE GOING TO FROM THE FIRE BABY!!” Bruce yells as he raises his massive arms in the air.

[JHawk 0]

Still reading the show, but having read WC's match I gotta say the similarities are eerie.

 

 

 

 

 

King: “I feel sorry for whoever has to follow that disaster of a Hardcore Title Match.”

 

Pete: “Incredible, wasn’t it?”

 

King: “How can anybody be expected to continue working in this environment?”

 

Pete: “Well, as we clean up after that massacre, let’s talk about the next match. Could today be the day, after 231 days, that Jay Hawke finally loses the International Championship? He will take on Wildchild in what is sure to be a classic match.”

 

King: “Wildchild? International Champion? You’ve got to be kidding!”

 

Pete: “Absolutely not. Remember, Wildchild was in control of the last meeting between these two when Jay Hawke leveled Wildchild with the title belt, then proceeded to injure Wildchild’s shoulder with the Wing Span. Revenge is one strong bit of motivation, and I could see Wildchild using that, channeling his energy, and taking his championship.”

 

King: “But I want to refer you to what Jay Hawke said after that match. Wildchild has been with this company for what, two or three years now, and he has never progressed beyond the Cruiserweight Championship. Don’t you think that if Wildchild was going to proceed beyond that level, he would have done so by now?”

 

Pete: “Well, he’s never really had the shot to proceed the next level.”

 

King: “Maybe if he was more forceful when it became time to move into title contention, he’d have gotten those opportunities. Face it, Wildchild is too soft to be a top guy, and Jay Hawke is simply too damn good to allow someone like Wildchild to take that strap off of him.”

 

Pete: “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

 

King: “You say that every week. Why is that?”

 

Pete: “At any rate, ever since that three way match a few weeks ago, Wildchild has been a thorn in Hawke’s side, making sure that Hawke doesn’t injure his other opponents.”

 

King: “And costing guys like Spike Jenkins the title when he’s got the champion beat.”

 

Pete: “At any rate, the title is on the line. Wildchild’s third shot at the title since Hawke won it. Will the third time be the charm for the man from the Bahamas?”

 

King: “Or will Jay Hawke prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Wildchild is a career underachiever. My bet’s on the latter.”

 

Pete: “Weren’t you the same guy who picked the Cardinals to win the Super Bowl at the start of the season, King?”

 

King: “Cheap shot.”

 

Pete: “Let’s get ready for the introductions.”

 

“Bouncin’ Back” by Mystikal comes over the public address system, and the fans erupt as the challenger and his manager, the always beautiful Melissa Fasaki, make their way to the ring.

 

Pete: “What an ovation for the challenger, King. You can almost sense the anticipation from the capacity crowd. They can sense this title change. They can almost taste the title change.”

 

King: “Why are you treating this like it’s a forgone conclusion that the title is changing hands? I’ll believe the title is changing hands when the referee says we have a new champion. And that, my colleague, is not going to happen.”

 

Wildchild enters the ring and begins stretching in the corner as the music changes to Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly”. The crowd boos as the lights dim, and as the familiar opening riff continues to blare throughout the arena, a lone spotlight shines down at the top of the ramp. Standing underneath it is the International, who basks in the glow for a moment before making his way to the ring.

 

King: “There he is. There’s the man with the longest uninterrupted title reign in SWF history! There’s the man who has single-handedly made the International Title a coveted possession! God, I love watching this guy compete.”

 

Pete: “But if he wants to reach day number 232 of this marvelous title reign, he’s going to have to wrestle harder than he ever has in his life.”

 

Jay Hawke enters the ring, climbs up on the middle turnbuckle, and soaks in the chants from the crowd:

 

 

“JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!”

 

 

With that, he hops off the turnbuckles and removes his robe as Funyon begins with the boxing-style introductions.

 

Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a one hour time limit, and it is for the SWF International Championship!”

 

 

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!”

 

Funyon: “This match is sanctioned by the Smarks Wrestling Federation, in cooperation with the California State Athletic Commission, and when the bell rings, the man in charge of the action will be Scott Ryder.”

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

Funyon: “Introducing first, the challenger. He is accompanied to the ring tonight by his manager, the lovely Melissa Fasaki. Hailing from the Bahamas, and weighing in at 214 pounds. He is a former Cruiserweight Champion. A former Hardcore Champion. A former World Tag Team Champion. And tonight, he tries to become the man who ends the longest uninterrupted title reign in SWF history. He is the Bahama Bomber, the Caribbean Cruiser, the Tropical Tumbler, and the Human Hurricane. He is … WILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLDCHILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLD!”

 

 

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

DUB-CEE!

DUB-CEE!

DUB-CEE!”

 

Funyon: “And his opponent…”

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

Funyon: “He hails from Cleveland, Ohio, and he weighs in tonight at 215 pounds. He is a former United States Junior League Champion, a former World Tag Team Champion, and the current reigning and defending International Champion. Tonight, he hopes to keep his 231-day title reign alive. He is the Dean of Professional Wrestling. He is … JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWWKE!”

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!”

 

 

With the opening introductions out of the way, Jay Hawke takes off his championship belt, possibly for the last time, and stares at it, giving it a quick kiss before handing it to referee Scott Ryder. Ryder folds up the champion and shows it to Wildchild, who gives a nod before Ryder holds the title belt above his head for the capacity crowd and the fans at home to see. As the fans begin to buzz, Pete makes the observation “And here I thought all the heat tonight would be on the main event.”

 

King: “Oh, there will be plenty of heat when that main event hits tonight, I assure you. But you’re right, absolutely unreal, and all because these people don’t know real talent when they see it.”

 

DING DING DING!

 

 

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!”

 

The bell has rung. The title match is officially underway. And even with the bad blood … even with the animosity … neither man wants to make a mistake early in the match, so neither man rushes toward the center of the ring. Instead, both men cautiously move to the center of the ring, with Jay Hawke starting to talk trash right off the bat.

 

“You might as well give it up right now. Face it, you’re not main event material. And that title belt you just got an eyeful of…that remains around my waist tonight.”

 

Wildchild stares him down before responding in his thick accent: “Prove it!”

 

“No problem,” is the response from Jay Hawke, and the two combatants immediately engage in a collar-and-elbow tieup. They jockey for position briefly, but Hawke uses his strength advantage to push Wildchild into the corner. Scott Ryder asks for a clean break and begins counting:

 

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

 

 

Jay Hawke releases the lockup in the corner and backs away, shocking the Staples Center crowd with the clean break.

 

King: “Now how about that, Pete?”

 

Pete: “I have to admit I’m impressed with that, King. Jay Hawke had a chance to take advantage of the situation and didn’t do it.”

 

They lock up collar-and-elbow again. This time Jay Hawke begins to push Wildchild toward the corner, but Wildchild shifts his weight and uses the change in leverage to take Hawke down with an arm drag takedown. Hawke quickly gets up to one knee and nods, seemingly impressed with the move.

 

Pete: “And there’s what Wildchild’s going to need to do to win this match. He’s not going to out power too many people, so he needs to use speed and leverage to keep Hawke off-balance.”

 

Jay Hawke gets to his feet and slowly makes his way back to Wildchild. Once again they lock up in the center of the ring, and this time Hawke doesn’t go over with the attempted weight shift into an arm drag. Instead he plants his feet and pushes Wildchild even harder, once again getting Wildchild trapped in the corner. And once again, Scott Ryder calls for the break.

 

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

 

Hawke backs off like he’s going to break cleanly, but he levels Wildchild with a forearm to the face instead. As the crowd boos the cheap shot from hell, Hawke smirks his arrogant smirk as Wildchild glares at him like a married woman glaring at her womanizing husband.

 

Pete: “Cheap shot from the champion there, and that’s only going to serve to anger the challenger.”

 

King: “How can you call that a cheap shot? That was a legal forearm.”

 

Pete: “With his opponent in the ropes. You’re not supposed to hit your opponent when he’s in the ropes.”

 

King: “Is that an unwritten rule?”

 

Pete: “No.”

 

King: “I don’t remember reading that in the rulebook.”

 

Pete: “You’ve never read the rulebook.”

 

King: “Maybe that’s why.”

 

Once again, the two participants lock up in the center of the ring. Hawke uses his strength to once again push Wildchild into the corner, and once again Scott Ryder has to count:

 

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

 

Jay Hawke goes for another forearm, but Wildchild ducks out of the way and quickly moves to the center of the ring. A surprised Hawke turns around, only to be surprised once again with a dropkick. Hawke drops to the mat quickly before regaining his feet, only to be taken right back down to the mat with another dropkick that sends him rolling out of the ring. Hawke gets to his feet, and he sees Wildchild running off the ropes with full velocity. Wildchild begins to dive through the ropes, and Hawke quickly moves out of the way, but Wildchild catches the ropes and spins himself back into the ring as the crowd erupts.

 

Pete: “And that shows you just how quickly Wildchild can speed up the pace of the match and gain control.”

 

King: “And I’ll even admit it, Hawke needs to slow the pace down if he expects to retain the title. But if you think the pace is going to stay like this all night, you’ve got another thing coming.”

 

Jay Hawke begins pacing around the ring, trying to come up with some sort of strategy to keep Wildchild at bay. Hawke climbs up the steel steps, telling the referee to make sure Wildchild is in the opposite neutral corner so he can reenter the ring. Scott Ryder makes sure Wildchild backs up a few steps, and Hawke reenters the ring for action.

 

King: “And there’s the mark of a true champion there. He makes sure Wildchild is far enough way that he can’t get caught with a cheap shot, and only then does he reenter the ring.”

 

Pete: “A cheap shot. Like the one Hawke caught Wildchild with in the corner a couple of minutes ago?”

 

King: “More like the one you caught me with when I made my prediction tonight.”

 

Hawke moves to the center of the ring, and once again they lock up collar-and-elbow. Jay Hawke quickly locks Wildchild into a side headlock. Wildchild wastes no time backing into the ropes and pushing Jay Hawke off into the ropes on the other side. Wildchild ducks as Hawke rebounds off. Hawke rebounds off the other side, and Wildchild leapfrogs over him. On the third rebound, Wildchild leaps up and catches Jay Hawke with a leg lariat that nearly knocks his head off from his shoulders. Jay Hawke rolls to the floor, then stands up and slaps the mat in frustration as the crowd erupts:

 

 

“DUB-CEE!

DUB-CEE!

DUB-CEE!”

 

 

Pete: “And again Wildchild has Jay Hawke caught completely off-guard.!”

 

King: “No no no. He’s merely trying to lull Wildchild into a false sense of security.”

 

Pete: “It’s working.”

 

King: “Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

 

Once again Jay Hawke slowly makes his way into the ring. Jay Hawke shakes his head, seemingly waiting for an opportunity, then the two wrestlers lock up collar-and-elbow yet again. Jay Hawke once again locks in the side headlock. Wildchild goes to throw Hawke into the ropes again, but this time the Dean of Professional Wrestling has a simple solution to prevent being sent into the ropes.

 

He grabs the Bahama Bomber by his braided black hair, then locks him right back into the side headlock.

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Pete: “Now what was the call for that?”

 

King: “Hey, Pete! He’s got a five-count to relinquish a hair pull. And I believe he pulled the hair for less than a second there, so it’s perfectly legal.”

 

Jay Hawke tightens the grip on the side headlock, but Wildchild is quick to lift Jay Hawke off the mat. Hawke quickly flails his legs, preventing himself from being taken over with a back suplex and instead taking Wildchild to the mat with the headlock. Wildchild immediately makes his way back to his feet, and he quickly runs forward, pushing Jay Hawke off of the headlock at the last possible moment and sending the International Champion crashing into the turnbuckle. Hawke staggers backwards, right into a Wildchild roll up:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Kickout. Both men quickly get to their feet, and Wildchild catches Jay Hawke with another leg lariat that sends Jay Hawke rolling to the concrete floor.

 

Funyon: “Five minutes have gone by, 55 minutes remain in the time limit.”

 

Hawke makes his way to his feet, unaware that Wildchild has already ascended to the top rope…

 

Pete: “He’s going to fly!”

 

…and catching Jay Hawke square with a picture-perfect corkscrew plancha.

 

 

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!”

 

 

The Caribbean Cruiser is quick to reenter the ring, raising both arms into the air as the crowd roars their approval:

 

 

“DUB-CEE!

DUB-CEE!

DUB-CEE!”

 

Pete: “And what a tremendous move by the challenger! Jay Hawke is seemingly unable to do anything with the challenger here!”

 

King: “Yeah, that move looked impressive, but let’s see how many people remember he hit it by the time the match is over!”

 

Pete: “When will you give Wildchild some credit, King?”

 

King: “When he has a title reign even remotely like Jay Hawke’s.”

 

Jay Hawke makes his way back to his feet and once again slaps the mat in frustration, seemingly unaware of how to combat Wildchild’s unique offense. He finally makes his way back to the ring apron, shouting “Get him back!” before finally stepping through the ropes.

 

Pete: “What does Jay Hawke have to do to gain the advantage at this point, King?”

 

King: “Simple. Let Wildchild keep doing that flashy offense but make one mistake too many. Then BAM! Put him away once and for all!”

 

Yet again, the two combatants lock up collar-and-elbow. Jay Hawke immediately grabs Wildchild by the left arm and goes into a hammerlock. Wildchild reaches back and grabs the back of Hawke’s head as if to go for a snap mare, but instead flips over and lands behind Jay Hawke. The Human Hurricane then dropkicks Jay Hawke in the back, sending him into the ropes. Hawke turns around and sees his challenger charging, ducks his shoulder, and backdrops Wildchild. Wildchild lands on his feet on the ring apron, then catches Jay Hawke with a forearm smash that knocks him down. Wildchild then hops onto the top turnbuckle, and Hawke rolls away just as Wildchild begins leaping. Wildchild changes his momentum in mid-move and rolls through it, quickly running to the ropes, leaping onto the top rope, and leaping off at Jay Hawke while curled up into a ball.

 

Pete: “Pinball attack by Wildchild! He’s got the champion completely flustered here!”

 

King: “But why isn’t he going for the cover? See, he’s incapable of being a top guy because he’s incapable of getting the big win when he’s in position for it!”

 

Jay Hawke pulls himself to his feet, and Wildchild quickly peppers the Dean of Wrestling with a series of short forearm smashes that stagger the champion. Wildchild sends Hawke into the ropes, then leaps at him on the rebound, taking him over with a high monkey flip that sends Hawke down hard to the mat.

 

Pete: “Freefall! Wildchild’s got the champion rocking!”

 

Jay Hawke tries to regain his feet, but he staggers into the corner, falling over almost immediately. Wildchild immediately charges, but the Dean gets a knee into the challenger’s chest that spins the champion around. Hawke then traps the left arm behind Wildchild’s back and turns him around, launching him forward and sending him left shoulder first into the steel ringpost.

 

Pete: “Oh no!”

 

King: “Oh yes!”

 

Wildchild backs away from the corner and turns around, and Hawke levels Wildchild with a roundhouse kick right into the shoulder.

 

King: “And that’s the turning point, Pete! Jay Hawke has taken a shot at Wildchild’s shoulder, and now you’re going to see why Jay Hawke has held that championship for nearly eight months!”

 

Indeed, that left shoulder is the immediate focus of Jay Hawke. He grabs a hold of Wildchild’s arm, locking it in an armbar before driving his elbow into the insertion of his opponent’s shoulder. Hawke locks the armbar in tighter, using his weight to force Wildchild down to the mat before pulling back into a Fujiwara armbar.

 

Pete: “Jay Hawke is going to town on the arm of Wildchild!”

 

King: “Exactly. Sure, it doesn’t exactly take Wildchild’s legs and his speed out from under him. But remember in that triple threat match that Hawke worked on the left arm, and the pain was so intense that Wildchild couldn’t use his speed to his fullest advantage.”

 

Jay Hawke continues to crank down on the arm, pulling it at the shoulder while putting all his weight along the upper arm. The pain on Wildchild’s arm is obvious by the grimace on his face, and he begins to crawl to the ropes. The ropes are mere inches away as Wildchild makes a reach for it, but Jay Hawke quickly pulls Wildchild to the center of the ring and drops a leg across the arm before once again locking in a Fujiwara armbar, all the weight once again on the left shoulder.

 

King: “Absolute brilliance as usual from the champion, Pete!”

 

Pete: “Oh, Hawke’s definitely a throwback to the days of old school wrestling. He knows how to pick out a body part and work it over, a technique lost on many of today’s wrestlers.”

 

King: “And it’s that technique in part that has led to Jay Hawke’s title reign being as successful as it has been.”

 

Wildchild is once again in pain, and he tries once again to reach the ropes as the crowd begins a staccato clap to cheer him on. Wildchild again reaches, this time merely three or four inches away, but Jay Hawke once again pulls Wildchild to the center of the ring and clamps down on the hold again, deflating the crowd. Hawke leans back as far as he can on the shoulder, and Wildchild screams as he tries to fight the intense pain on his shoulder.

 

King: “God, this is beautiful. Wildchild’s screaming like a little girl. Now Melissa knows how annoying she is at ringside!”

 

Pete: “Will you stop?”

 

Wildchild once again begins crawling toward the ropes, and this time Jay Hawke isn’t able to get the leverage to pull Wildchild toward the ropes. This time Wildchild reaches the ropes to a thunderous applause from the crowd, forcing the referee to count:

 

 

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

 

And “forcing” Jay Hawke to stomp on the shoulder rather than release the hold. The champion is right back on the attack, draping the left arm over the middle rope and yanking on it, using the rope for additional leverage:

 

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

 

Jay Hawke releases the hold, only to go right back to it:

 

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

 

And again Hawke releases the hold, only to go right back to it:

 

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

 

Funyon: “Ten minutes have gone by, fifty minutes remain.

 

Hawke kicks the middle rope as hard as he can with Wildchild’s arm still wrapped around it, and Wildchild falls to the mat, clutching his shoulder as the crowd begins to rag on the champion:

 

 

“JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!”

 

Jay Hawke pays no mind to the catcalls from the fans, as he pulls Wildchild to the middle of the ring and puts his arm behind his challenger’s back before body slamming him to the canvas, the full body weight of Wildchild landing on his already-weakened left shoulder.

 

Pete: “Hammerlock body slam! How about that for a move you don’t see much these days?”

 

King: “And that’s the problem with preparing for Hawke’s offense. How are you supposed to prepare for moves that most wrestlers haven’t seen used in over ten years?”

 

Jay Hawke again picks Wildchild up, looking as though he’s going to go for a body slam, but instead he drops to one knee and brings the Bahama Bomber’s shoulder straight down onto the other knee. Hawke then goes for his first cover of the match:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Kickout. The crowd erupts, but Jay Hawke is quick to lock Wildchild into another hammerlock, adding a chicken wing to it for more leverage.

 

Pete: “Unreal. Jay Hawke has been absolutely relentless on that arm for at least three or four minutes at this point!”

 

King: “Hey, when you spot a weakness, you’ve got to go for it. That’s why Hawke’s going to retain here, and that’s what JJ Johnson needs to do to win the World Title later tonight!”

 

An unrelenting International Champion continues the attack, driving in a series of knees to the arm while continuing to hold on to the hammerlock. Hawke then tightens the grip on the hammerlock yet again, even using his head to push up on the arm for additional leverage. Wildchild clenches his right fist and bites it to try to alleviate the pain as the crowd tries to rally the challenger:

 

 

“LET’S GO WILD-CHILD! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP*

LET’S GO WILD-CHILD! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP*

LET’S GO WILD-CHILD! *CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP*”

 

The crowd’s chants seem to motivate the challenger, as he ignores the pain and makes his way back to his feet. He plants Hawke in the side of the face with a couple of elbows, hitting him just hard enough to release the hold. The crowd cheers as they sense the comeback, and Wildchild runs into the ropes and comes back with a high cross body attempt. However, the champion quickly ducks out of the way, and the challenger lands on his left shoulder and rolls to the concrete floor.

 

Pete: “And just when Wildchild looked to be turning things around, he ends up taking a hard tumble to the floor.”

 

King: “And if he’s smart, he’ll simply stay on the floor and take the countout. Better than having his career ended by the International Champion.”

 

Jay Hawke might be willing to take the countout victory, but he leaves the ring, as he obviously wants to do some added damage to his opponent first. He gets a couple of solid stomps to the arm, then drags Wildchild up to his feet. Hawke uses his elbow several times on Wildchild’s shoulder, then locks him into another hammerlock. Hawke pushes Wildchild forward, sending the left shoulder into the ringpost. Wildchild remains at the same spot, and Hawke simply kicks Wildchild’s shoulder, driving it into the ringpost again.

 

FOUR!

 

Pete: “My God! I think Jay Hawke tried to imbed Wildchild’s shoulder into the ringpost!”

 

King: “I’m surprised Wildchild isn’t a permanent part of the ring after that!”

 

SIX!

 

Jay Hawke once again kicks Wildchild’s shoulder, driving it into the steel yet again. The Dean of Professional Wrestling then rolls into the ring, only to roll right back outside.

 

King: “And that’s exactly what he needed to do there. He rolled in and out of the ring, and now the referee has no choice but to start his ten count all over again.”

 

TWO!

 

Jay Hawke grabs the Caribbean Cruiser’s arm and wraps it around the ringpost. Then he uses his foot to push against the ringpost, pulling Wildchild’s arm at the same time. He takes his foot off the post, and Wildchild tries to break free, only for Hawke to pull Wildchild forward and once again drive his shoulder into the ringpost.

 

FIVE!

 

Jay Hawke then rolls Wildchild back into the ring before reentering himself. The crowd boos him like hell as he grabs the challenger by the arm and pulls him toward the center of the ring. The champion drops a knee across the shoulder, then goes into the cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THR -- kickout.

 

Pete: “Only the count of two, but you have to wonder how much more of this Wildchild is going to able to take.”

 

King: “I’ll tell you how much more he’s going to be able to take. Nothing. Kicking out right there was the worst thing he could have done!”

 

And it’s become obvious that Jay Hawke has had about enough of Wildchild’s resilience. As Wildchild slowly gets to his feet, Jay Hawke positions himself so that he’s behind his challenger. Wildchild stands, and Jay Hawke goes for the Wing Span. However, he only gets the chickenwing portion of the hold on before Wildchild starts running and leaning forward, driving the champion’s head smack dab into the turnbuckle.

 

 

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!”

 

 

Jay Hawke staggers backwards, then turns around doubled over, enabling Wildchild to drape his leg over the back of his head and drive him face first into the canvas.

 

Pete: “Brilliant counter by Wildchild, followed by the Caribbean Cutter! That’s the break he’s been looking for!”

 

King: “But does he have enough left in him to even come back from the punishment he’s suffered the last seven or eight minutes? I don’t think so!”

 

His arm dangling along his left side, Wildchild begins using his right arm for most of the offense, right now consisting of a series of forearm smashes to the side of the head. Wildchild grimaces and gives his shoulder a quick rub, then runs into the ropes and uses them as a springboard, catching the champion with a forearm smash to the side of the face. Hawke is down and seemingly out, and Wildchild summons enough energy to cover the champion:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Kickout.

 

Pete: “Only the count of two, but the challenger isn’t out of this one yet!”

 

King: “Merely giving these fans false hopes, much like he has his entire career!”

 

Jay Hawke makes his way to his feet, as does Wildchild. Wildchild slowly runs into the ropes, using them for momentum before coming at the champion and connecting with the high cross body:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Kickout.

 

Pete: “This time Wildchild connects with the high cross body, and it’s good for a near fall! He’s picking up the pace of the contest, and that’s given him the advantage!”

 

Wildchild is still favoring the shoulder, so he uses his feet to stomp away at the champion while he’s still down on the canvas. The crowd erupts as he continues to hurriedly stomp away at him, getting one last hard stomp to the face.

 

Funyon: “Fifteen minutes have gone by, 45 minutes remain in the time limit.”

 

Wildchild then heads to the corner, slowly climbing the turnbuckle as he continues to favor the shoulder. He makes his way to the top turnbuckle, but Jay Hawke has recovered from the stomping spree and has made his way to the corner, leveling Wildchild with a forearm.

 

King: “See that? The pain in the shoulder prevented him from getting up the corner fast enough to do whatever move he had planned.”

 

Jay Hawke gets a couple more hard forearm smashes in, then climbs up after him. He sets Wildchild up for a superplex, but Wildchild gets a series of punches to the midsection to prevent himself from being taken over. He then lifts Hawke up slightly, dropping him face-first to the canvas but doing damage to his shoulder in the process.

 

 

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!”

 

 

Wildchild shakes off the effects of the shoulder and balances himself on the top turnbuckle. He leaps, landing back-first on the International Champion.

 

Pete: “Top rope senton bomb! That could do it!”

 

King: “I don’t think so, Pete! Wildchild is clutching at that shoulder, and I don’t think he’s going to be able to make a cover!”

 

Indeed, Suicide King is right for a change. As Wildchild tries to crawl toward a potential cover, clutching at his shoulder the entire time, Jay Hawke has rolled to a corner, making the universal “timeout” sign. Referee Scott Ryder tries to inform him there are no timeouts as Hawke stands, practically begging for a breather. Seeing Hawke’s attention is diverted, Wildchild makes a beeline for him, leaping into the air for a leg lariat. However, Jay Hawke sees him at the last second and ducks out of the way, pushing referee Ryder into the leg of his challenger.

 

 

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

 

Pete: “Oh no! Jay Hawke pulled the referee into that leg lariat, and the referee is down! That should be an automatic disqualification!”

 

King: “If the referee even knows what happened!”

 

Wildchild checks on the referee’s well-being, and Jay Hawke rolls to the floor, making his way to the timekeeper’s table. He grabs the International Championship belt off of the table and rolls back into the ring. As the crowd screams for Wildchild to turn around, Hawke stands behind him, waiting to glom him with the belt.

 

Pete: “No! Not this!”

 

King: “Yes! He’s going to keep the title just like he has the past month!”

 

Wildchild turns around, and Hawke goes for the belt shot. Wildchild ducks out of the way and quickly turns around, kicking Hawke in the midsection and using his right arm to hook Hawke’s head and take him down with a DDT.

 

 

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!”

 

Pete: “He was ready for it! The challenger saw it coming and reacted!”

 

Wildchild looks down at the belt and picks it up, and the crowd buzzes, hoping the Bahama Bomber is thinking what they’re thinking.

 

King: “Do it!”

 

“What?” asks Pete in shock.

 

King: “If you want to prove you’re hungry for success, do it!”

 

Wildchild shakes his head no and starts to drop the belt…

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

…then, seeing Hawke getting to his feet, remembers what the champion said. He thinks to himself, “Unwilling to reach the next level? MY ASS!” Then….

 

 

 

SMACK!

 

 

 

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!”

 

 

Pete: “He did it! Wildchild leveled Jay Hawke in the face with the title belt! He’s got the champion down! The cover!”

 

King: “And the referee’s beginning to get his bearings!”

 

Scott Ryder crawls over, slowly making his way into position before going for the count:

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

Pete: “One!”

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Pete: “Two!”

 

 

King: “New champion!”

 

 

THRE -- no!

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

Pete: “And the champion somehow rolled the left shoulder up at the last moment!”

 

King: “God, that was close!”

 

Wildchild, frustrated for the first time in a long time, grabs the referee by the collar, complaining that he should have had the three count. As the argument ensues, Jay Hawke once again rolls to the floor. He grabs a steel chair and tosses it into the ring. Ryder, hearing the chair hit the mat, tries to remove it from the ring. As Jay Hawke grabs another chair and slides into the ring, Wildchild yanks the first chair from Ryder’s grasp and holds it in a defensive stance.

 

Pete: “Oh no! This is getting out of hand here!”

 

King: “I think these two men have just decided to do what they have to do to finish each other off!”

 

Both men, chairs in hand, begin swinging, and the chairs clang together with each swing. The referee tries to get control of things by stepping in between them. Wildchild and Jay Hawke stop swinging at each other for a moment, take a look at Ryder, then turn to each other and nod. Each man takes a swing at Ryder, and Ryder just barely ducks out of the ring and slides to safety. The two combatants start swinging at each other again, and the sound of the bell can barely be heard above the clanging of steel on steel….

 

 

DING DING DING!

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd might not like the match ending officially, but the fight isn’t over. They continue swinging as the bell rings repeatedly like a Russo-era episode of WCW Monday Nitro.

 

 

DING DING DING DING DING!

 

 

Finally, Jay Hawke swings half a second before Wildchild does. Wildchild ducks, then does an overhead swing…

 

SMACK!

 

 

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!”

 

… that catches the champion on the top of the head. Hawke falls backwards like a shot as blood begins to flow out of the forehead of the Dean of Wrestling.

 

Pete: “Oh my God! Wildchild just busted Jay Hawke open with that steel chair!”

 

King: “Do these two men even realize the bell rang?”

 

Apparently not.

 

DING DING DING DING DING!

 

Wildchild then mounts Jay Hawke, using a series of forearms to the head to further open up the cut. As Wildchild continues pounding away at the forehead, security and several local wrestlers posing as security flood the ring, trying to pull Wildchild off of the champion.

 

Pete: “The locker room is emptying, and Wildchild’s like a man possessed!”

 

King: “Well, I hate to say this, but Jay Hawke caused this! He called Wildchild out, and now he’s paying the price!”

 

Security finally pulls Wildchild out to the arena floor as EMTs rush into the ring to check on the champion. Wildchild struggles to break free as the crowd chants for him:

 

 

“DUB-CEE!

DUB-CEE!

DUB-CEE!”

 

Pete: “All hell has broken loose in this one!”

 

King: “Have we gotten the official word yet?”

 

Pete: “I don’t think so. I see Funyon talking to the referee now. Let’s see if we have that information!”

 

Funyon: “Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please! After 18 minutes 25 seconds, the referee has disqualified both men for use of a chair…”

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

Funyon: “…ruling this bout a double disqualification! Therefore, still[/i the SWF International Champion, Jay Hawke!”

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

BULL-SHIT!

BULL-SHIT!

BULL-SHIT!”

 

Pete: “Well, this crowd isn’t happy, but it was pretty much the only decision Scott Ryder could make there.”

 

The camera cuts to Wildchild, who has a look of death on his face as he stares at the ring at his fallen opponent. Wildchild has stopped struggling, but security refuses to let him go due to the ice cold stare on his face.

 

King: “What has Jay Hawke done, Pete? I think he’s created a monster!”

 

Pete: “It looks that way. The champion may have retained the title tonight, but it’s Wildchild who has won the battle. The champ is bloodied in the middle of the ring!”

 

King: “Is it safe to say this one isn’t over yet?”

 

Pete: “Perfectly safe.”

 

King: “This one isn’t over yet!”

 

Pete: “The Clusterfuck is coming up momentarily, but first, listen to this!”

 

Cut to a brief 30-second commercial for the Ramadomination DVD, on sale this Tuesday.

[Guest Ghost Machine]

Speaking only in terms of the push Blank gave me, his match was clearly the true winner.

[Bruce Blank 0]

Speaking only in terms of the push Blank gave me, his match was clearly the true winner.

Well I am a Ghostie and I thought the entrance was PPV worthy

 

I did try to push more than just my win with the write up as well - Wes & Ghost got logevity and loads of action and damn it I want to see them face off, so I wrote it into the match

 

Spike & Zyon and also Landon & Max had their issues pushed through the match but I didn't impose any developments on them they may not be ready for. I had Spike be more business, more focused and opportunistic but I didn't take any steps towards turning him heel just upping the Spike/Zyon tension. I also put Lanon in the last three to tease the repeat posibility until the very last moment

 

I even gave the 70s Dude and the Joshi Dragon something to settle in the ring one day I tried to work in all sorts of touches to give people something from the match - in fact I do believe I looked like the weakest CF winner ever as others did most of the work as I bled on myself .

 

I think I hit a lot of good notes, but with the word limit I think the segment from #20 enters till we're down to 3 was a little rushed, could have paced it better.

[zyon 0]

Here it is. It's without bold, italics, underline, and all corrections I made in the final copy so some of the emotion may be gone, or maybe not. Basically it's in its rawest form.

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

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen it is once again time for the most exciting match in professional wrestling. It is time for Clusterfuck 2006!!!

 

“Take that Family Friendly Lockdown. Tonight we will witness the complete opposite of that failure with Grand Entertaining Clusterfuck, BA-BY!!!!

 

“For those who are unfamiliar with the rules…” Pete is interrupted for the first of many times this match.

 

“Or for those flat out retarded…yes I’m looking at you Spike.”

 

“Anyway. The rules are as followed. Two wrestlers start, and from there every two minutes a random SWF superstar will enter to battle it out. During this time eliminations can only occur via throwing your opponent over the top rope with both feet touching the floor. However, when there are three competitors remaining the Clusterfuck becomes a glorified triple threat match with the first pinfall declaring the winner.” Pete explains the basic rules.

 

“Now unlike other companies who run this match and totally fuck it up we the SWF have come up with ways to insure some organization. First when a wrestler is set to enter the arena a buzzer will go off like so.”

 

“BBBBBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTT!!!”

 

“Ok I am now deaf out of one ear. Once a competitor has been eliminated there will be a single DING unless more than one competitor has been eliminated. Don’t worry we have dozens of camera angles and officials covering this match nothing will go wrong…I hope. The DING sounds like so…”

 

“DING!!!”

 

“And of course there will be a ten second countdown on the Smarktron. Now a SWF invention to the match that was created a few years back was the eliminator information super highway. Basically once somebody gets eliminated there will be a bunch of pointless info for the jokers out there that actually bet on these things. It goes like so…”

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Brenda King

ENTERED: 8th

Left: 1 year after engaged

ELIMINATED: Kate King

ELIMINATED BY: Suicide King

LEFT IN RING: House and two kids

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

 

“King that was quite tasteless of you.” Pete does not approve of King making his multiple divorces public.

 

“What I’m just letting the lovely ladies know I’m available.”

 

“Lovely ladies are not our concern. These men are our concern…”

 

“WOAH!!!! Pete fuck that noise. I mean I know some of us bat left handed, but I’m a strong right. Hey you live your life and I’ll live mine alright.”

 

“That’s not what I meant King and you know it. Gay bashing aside tonight is a night where a gas will transform into a star being ranked in the sky of bright lights like Pimp Daddy Sharp, “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens, Taylor Nicholas Thompson, Charlie Matthews, and Landon Maddix.” Pete can be pretty deep sometimes…make your own jokes.

 

“Who in the SHOWTIME HELL would want to be ranked with Landon Maddix?” And King…well he deeply hates Landon.

 

The main SWF camera switches shots from the bickering, but talented announce team to the large Californians in the Staples Center. Many sport Kobe Bryant jerseys along with casual wear. No matter what they are wearing though there is one thing for certain, and that would be they are totally pumped up from the energy that Clusterfuck creates. And what did the semi talented audience create?

 

“WINNING FROM ENTRANT ONE > KOBE’S 81!!!!”

 

“WILL FUCK MAKE IT ON SCREEN!!!”

 

And of course…

 

“I WISH MYERS WOULD COSPLAY AS ME!!!”

 

No you don’t.

 

Finally with one turn of the foot the highly paid cameraman focuses on the ring, and the buff man inside said squared circle.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, CLUSTERFUCK 2006 WILL NOW COMMENCE AS SCHEDULED!!!!

 

“YEAHHHH!”

 

The crowd erupts before a moment of silence hushes a crowd preparing their reaction for the determined first entrant who tonight is prepared to will his way to history…even though creative control would rather have a different outcome.

“Would he hurry up already?”

 

King asks and he shall receive. The Staples Center goes into full power, almost an overload as the blinding lights cause a white out drawing envy from snow and fog. The familiar scratching of a needle irritates a few fans while pumping the rest of the clan up.

 

“BAM!!!!”

 

The crashing guitars kick into full gear as “Black Label” disrupts any and all family time a father and son may be having. The drumming picks up at a blistering pace before the blood curling scream of the vocalist scares the more religious viewers.

 

“AHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

In a strange turn of events, Spike immediately emerges from the darkness without his usual black hoodie. The fans for the first time ever see a raw Jenkins determined to celebrate his career with a history making performance.

 

“Spike is without his usual attire tonight?”

 

“Well I guess the fool is smarter than I thought. I’m sure he realized that the hoodie could raise his body temperature causing an abundance of warmth. Notice how his hair is drenched, he could have very well got out of the shower readying himself for what is to come.” King brings the psychology.

 

Spike dodges his first taunt choosing to simply walk to the ring taking his sweet time.

 

“Introducing as ENTRANT NUMBER ONE, hailing from HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA!!”

 

“YYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!”

 

The crowd explodes as Funyon finishes his first duty of the match.

 

“HE IS HOLLYWOOD SPIKE JENKINS!!!”

 

The crowd is certainly appreciative, but Spike could care less…he is in the zone. The NEW and ONLY straight edge sensation immediately enters the ring and drops to one knee…

 

…Not making a move.

 

“Bring it!”

 

Spike whispers before leaping to his feet and throwing up the “X” symbol disrupting the balance of power and sending the audience into a frenzy!

“Let’s Go Spike!”

 

The crowd erupts as “Black Label” fades into the background, and now is when the Clusterfuck truly begins. The momentous “Spike” chant quickly fades leaving the crowd to mutter to one another wondering who number two will be…

 

…Mystery solved.

 

“Ole`” by Bouncing Souls plays over the PA system as one of SWF’s newest arrivals makes his way down the entrance ramp. The respectful luchadore rushes to the ring smacking a few hands barely giving Funyon enough time to announce his name.

 

“Hailing from Tocula, Mexico. LABERINTO!”

 

Funyon booms as the crowd gives the rookie quite the applause for someone being relatively unknown.

 

“King this is one of the guys that this match is made for. He is relatively unknown and a good showing tonight could sky rocket his career.”

 

“Good showing…so you don’t think he has a chance either?”

 

“I didn’t say that.”

 

Laberinto enters the ring and stares at the straight edger across from him as Funyon makes a quiet exit. The Staples Center begins to rock as the excited crowd starts to stop their feet and yell in an unrecognizable tone.

 

It’s Clusterfuck.

 

DING!

 

DING!

 

DING!

 

“And we’re off.”

 

Spike slowly circles the ring not wanting to take any chances, but the energetic luchadore takes a step forward followed by another step until Spike is forced to realize the luchadore is charging at him at full speed. Back peddling, Jenkins traps himself in a corner between a luchadore and a turnbuckle. Unprepared for the incoming assault Jenkins hopes to fluke out a counter as he drops wrapping his legs around the sprinting luchadore’s ankle snapping him into the middle turnbuckle face first! The veteran immediately rolls away from the luchadore who rises back to his feet adjusting his golden mask.

“Pete, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Clusterfuck competitor as scared as Spike.”

 

The man hailing from California lowers himself in a shoot wrestling position much better prepared for whatever the agile luchadore throws his way. Taking the straight edger’s challenge Laberinto once again charges forward…

 

…Sprinting right past a wide eyed Spike who instinctively turns around.

 

“CRACK!!”

 

Only to receive a corkscrew dropkick after the luchadore launched himself off the second rope!! Admittedly the impressive maneuver only gazes the number one entrant-sending Spike staggering back toward the ropes…a baaaaaaaad place to be. The luchadore strides forward blasting the cocky superstar with a multitude of crushing forearms. Spike continues to stagger backward uncharacteristically defenseless as Laberinto continues to bring the firepower.

 

“CRACK!”

 

“CRACK!”

 

“CATCH???”

 

Uh oh.

 

Spike proving mama did not raise no fool latches on to the arm of Laberinto before thrusting him over the ropes!!!!

 

“YEEEAAAHHH!”

 

The crowd explodes as Spike shuffles forward ready to take a breather, but then he hears the first count down of the night.

 

“TEN!!”

 

“NINE!!”

 

“EIGHT!!”

 

The curious Jenkins turns to face his next obstacle only to realize through error that he has yet to pass the first one!!!

 

“CRACK!”

 

Laberinto emerges from the ring apron with a springboard clothesline that drops Spike like a bad habit.

“SEVEN”

 

“SIX”

 

“FIVE”

 

Laberinto continues to take advantage of his second chance and Spike’s arrogance by stomping the straight edger into the mat impersonating Edward Norton’s character in American History X.

 

“FOUR!”

 

“THREE”

 

“TWO”

 

“ONE!”

 

“BBBZZZZZZZTTTT!!!”

 

“Let’s see who is behind door number three.”

 

The crowd rises to their feet to get a good look at the third entrant of the ‘Fuck. The crowd is slightly surprised to hear the music of Rammstein’s “Wollt Ihr Das Bett In Flammen Sehen? ”

 

“For those that don’t know The Rage Jason Von Dierch has been on the shelf for quite some time.”

 

“When did we call getting suspended being put on the shelf? KOJI and Scott Preztler are people on the shelf. The Rage…well he had some issues.” King unlike Pete does not believe in kayfabe.

 

The Rage pumped for his comeback hustles down to the ring bringing the crowd to half heartily boo the returnee.

 

“Hailing from Hamburg, Germany…THE RAGE JASON VON DIERCH!!!”

 

As if on cue, The Rage hurries into the ring immediately attempting an illegal choke on the preoccupied Laberinto. Jason can only get one arm around the head of the speedy luchadore before realizing that the Mexican is firmly behind him, which by the way is not a show of support…

 

…Or a gay joke…perverts.

 

Laberinto grips the side of Jason’s head with both hands respectively before dropping the returnee with an Uno Momento!

 

“Bottom just dropped out on The Rage!”

 

However, the luchadore doesn’t take into consideration how fresh The Rage is; whom fires back with a kick to Laberinto’s face. The luchadore rolls backward from the impact rising back to his feet. The Rage also wonders back to his feet only to almost receive a forearm for his trouble. Jason though is able to avert the attack countering it into an arm bar attempt THAT Laberinto COUNTERS rolling through before kipping up like most luchadore’s do when grappled by a grappler. The proud Mexican wrestler transitions the counter into a standing arm bar of his OWN! However, the returning Rage will not be showed up by some flippy floppy luchadore as he mimics Laberinto’s previous movements. The standard roll through followed by the kip up doesn’t shock the audience, but Laberinto’s awareness does as he looks to sweep The Rage off of his feet…

 

…But the German competitor hops into the air.

 

With Laberinto’s grip completely ravaged The Rage swings wildly with a clothesline that the proud luchadore easily dodges. During all this action Spike has made it back to his feet ready to launch toward Laberinto…from behind. The Rage with his back turned to Laberinto looks to catch the luchadore off guard with a CRUMBLING WALL SIDEKICK but the luchadore ducks out of the way…

 

“CRRRACK!!!”

 

…Spike on the other hand does not.

 

“OOOOOOOHHHH!”

 

The crowd echoes as Spike falls to the mat possibly unconscious.

 

“Jesus, King did you see that kick?”

 

“See it…I heard that shot from all the way over here.”

 

In the ‘Fuck people must understand that you can’t dwell on the past.

 

“TEN”

 

Especially when someone is ready to make their presence felt.

 

“NINE”

 

With Jason defenseless the luchadore locks the stronger Von Dierch in a reverse waist lock hoping to be the victor of the power struggle. Determination running through his hot blood, Laberinto attempts to hoist Jason into the air, but the German fighter locks his foot behind his opponent’s.

 

“SIX”

 

“FIVE”

 

“FOUR”

 

“THREE”

 

As the countdown comes to an end Jason performs a standing switch placing Laberinto in the strugglers seat.

 

“ONE!”

 

“BBBBBZZZZZTTTTT!!”

 

The cheering fateful in the audience scream when “How I Could Just Kill A Man” kills the PA!

 

“YEEEEAAAAHHH!”

 

“Hailing from Sydney, Australia…STRYKE!!!!”

 

“Wow now this is an established SWF star.”

 

”Established? His last run with the company was the drizzling shits including multiple ‘Fuck showings where he lost. But hey even Stryke has a chance to boost his career I guess.”

 

The former reckless superstar regresses back to that person for a moment as he sprints to the ring sliding in. Once in the ring, Stryke returns to the calculating fan favorite who silently waits his turn to get a shot. Laberinto continues to struggle in the reverse waist lock until Jason hoists the luchadore into the air looking for a German suplex, but instead finds himself in a headlock that is used to hide a dangerous choke. Skilled in the art of fighting, Jason finds himself weakening as his vision begins to blue. Laberinto’s luck continues to fluctuate as the hotheaded German staggers forward toward the ropes with Laberinto in a backdrop position.

 

“Let’s see the resilient luchadore get out of this mess. He literally has no place to go.”

 

Inching closer to the ropes Laberinto extends his legs until his foot touches the top rope. And with a simple bending of the knees the resourceful luchadore kicks off the top rope causing both competitors’s to spin.

 

“Well King I hope that answers your question.”

 

With one last burst of strength the conscious Von Dierch tosses Laberinto in a random direction toward the patient Stryke. Showing off his improv skills the luchadore wraps his legs around the head of the fresh Stryke in a hurricarana attempt that goes horribly awkward…

 

…And by awkward I mean POWER BOMB…FOOL!

 

“OOOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd echoes as the back of Laberinto’s head smacks the canvas in the same way a car crashes into a brick wall. Stryke’s certainly proud of himself strides forward shaking his head side to side asking a fatigued Jason Von Dierch to bring it on! Well they don’t call him THE RAGE for nothing as the angry German sprints forward looking to tear Stryke’s head off, but instead eats a hurricarana for his troubles. With all competitors down Stryke can’t help, but celebrate with a quick raising of his arms.

 

“YEEEAAAHHH!”

 

“The people mean nothing Stryke…gosh.”

 

Stryke looks to dominate the ‘Fuck even though he “lucked” into a low number as he hoists Laberinto back to his feet. Feeling the momentum go his way Stryke grabs Laberinto by the mask before having Laberinto come alive on him with a quick jab to the gut. Stryke panics as the luchadore latches on to his opponents blue wrestling tights tossing him toward the top rope!!!

 

“OOOOOHHHH!”

 

The crowd echoes as Stryke halts the momentum by going chest first into the top rope.

 

“See King that’s why I love the ‘Fuck! The momentum can change at any time during the match.” Good reason Pete.

 

Stryke staggers backward leaving his back open for Laberinto who jabs the freshest guy in the match in the kidneys leading to a reverse DDT!! Stryke’s head bounces off the mat in painful fashion as the number two entrant has done quite well for himself.

 

“King could Laberinto win the ‘Fuck from entrant number two?”

 

“What kind of stupid question is that?

 

“King, I was just wondering.”

 

“Well don’t. Everytime you wonder about something I feel twice as dumb answering one of your queries.” King berates Pete.

 

Fatigued, Laberinto hopes to have a moment of relaxation but Jason Von Dierch climbs back to his feet facing the ready luchadore as the clock begins ticking once again.

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

“EIGHT”

 

“I wonder…”

 

“HEY DAMNIT!”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“You’re forgiven.”

 

In the ring both the luchadore and the harsh German this side of Hitler stop dead in their tracks and come to terms with a non verbal agreement based on each man’s position in the ‘Fuck as a whole. In other words the next guy that comes through that curtain will be facing two men not one.

 

“FOUR”

 

“THREE”

 

“TWO”

 

“ONE!!!!”

 

“BZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTT!”

 

And with a thunderous boom “Crusher Destroyer” plays over the PA.

 

“Hailing from Denver, Colorado… M-A-N-S-O-N!!!!

 

“This is bad for the competitors. Manson loves these type of environments where he can annihilate as many people as possible.”

 

“True. He probably doesn’t even care if he wins…and I love it.”

 

The imposing figure of Manson walks down the entrance ramp as both Jason Von Dierch, Laberinto, and Spike prepare for a full assault on the Raging Bull…

 

…Wait Spike?

 

“Look King!”

 

Pete shills as Spike staggers forward grabbing Laberinto by his golden sweat soaked mask lunging the luchadore forward and over the top rope to the floor!!!!

 

“DING!!!!”

 

“See Pete not only did Laberinto not win, but he was first eliminated. You know Pete I’m beginning to think I should be the only one to wonder around here.”

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Laberinto

ENTERED: 2nd

LEFT: 1st

ELIMINATED: Nobody

ELIMINATED BY: Hollywood Spike Jenkins

LEFT IN RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, The Rage Jason Von Dierch, Stryke, and Manson.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

After almost having his jaw completely unlatched the woozy straight edger drops to the mat on all fours. Knowing that one half of his defense is gone; Jason decides to use his other half aka himself to defend the fort. The fighter’s anger gets the best of him as he turns toward Spike not even noticing the sinister presence behind him…

 

“CRACK!!!”

 

Manson The Stampede pulls back as he darts his elbow toward the back of The Rage’s head knocking him forward like he was just hit by a train. Amazingly the German civilian remains on his feet as he turns to face the man who imposes his will on his opponents. Staring into the wild eyes of his opponent The Rage has no choice but to attempt a knockout blow as he tries to destroy Manson with his CRUMBLING WALL shuffle sidekick!!!!

 

“SWISH!”

 

Not known for his quickness, the Raging Bull dodges the deadly kick simultaneously

locking his opponent down with a one handed choke. Jason’s eyes bulge as Manson hoists him into the air before driving the air out of his opponent with a ring shaking choke slam!!! Quite pleased with his dominance Manson swings around to look for more victims only to have one snatch on to his back with a sleeper hold!

 

“Manson thought he had everything under control, but in the ‘Fuck you are never in control.”

 

“That’s not what your mom said last night Pete…oh shit Pete you must be flaming from that BURN!” King proves his maturity level is that of a freshmen in high school.

 

“Can we call the match PLEASE!”

 

Back in the ring Stryke tugs away on the modified sleeper. And by modified that means that Stryke does his best to choke out the Raging Bull while he still can. Unsure of how Stryke got on his weak side, Manson formulates a simple plan on how to get him off. The strongest foe in the match bends over forcing Stryke to wrap his legs around the waist of his opponent trapping him even more right?

 

Wrong!

 

Falling into the devil’s trap Stryke notices that the flesh and blood vehicle that he is riding on is backing up at an incredible rate…

 

“CRACK!!”

 

…Until coming to a halt once Stryke’s back is crushed into the unforgiving top turnbuckle. Persistent as a bastard fire ant Stryke holds Manson in the very clutches that start to slip away as the Raging Bull leaps backward one last time!

 

“CRACK!!”

 

“SMASH!!”

 

Stryke’s back smashes against the turnbuckle as seemingly on impact Spike Jenkins reemerges from the mat with a stinger splash on Manson…squishing Stryke in the process. Weak and nimble the man called Stryke slithers to the mat as Manson staggers out of the turnbuckle. Essentially gaining more momentum, Spike plants his back foot before taking off toward a dazed Manson looking to throw one of those murdering lariats, but the Raging Bull may have other ideas.

 

“CR…GAG!”

 

Just as the former egomaniac can swing his arm forward Manson latches on to the throat of his opponent just like he did Jason Von Dierch. As resourceful as Spike is the number one entrant knows that taking a choke slam will not be beneficial to his destiny of making history. Manson on the other hand could care less about history as he hoists the Californian into the air before having his eye raked by said victim. Spike can’t help but smile as he can feel the blinded Manson’s grip loosen.

 

However, Manson doesn’t have to see Spike die.

 

“CRRRRAASSSH!”

 

“OOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd echoes as Manson powerfully throws Spike to the ground with a wicked choke slam.

 

“Pete you know I loved every moment of that.”

 

“I doubt you loved it as much as Manson did, gosh that guy’s a monster.”

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

“EIGHT”

 

“YEAAAHHHH!”

 

The crowd explodes as the countdown continues to decrease. Manson notices on the corner of his eye that Jason Von Dierch is back on his feet ready to bring the fight to the master of MANSONOSITY! Stryke on the other hand could care less about fighting, but with an opening so damn wide he must take it. Basically tripping over himself Stryke leaps downward toward Manson’s kneecap before buckling it with a chop block. With a hint of teamwork Stryke order Jason to do something. Without a moment of hesitation Jason sprints forward swinging his arm toward Manson smashing the Raging Bull with a powerful lariat. Manson falls to the mat proving that he indeed in feeling the effects of fatigue, but continues to shock the crowd as he rises to his feet.

 

“SEVEN”

 

“SIX!!”

 

Unhindered by Manson’s high tolerance for pain Jason sprints forward again and drops the beast with a more powerful clothesline! Manson gasps for air as the impact of the clothesline knocked the oxygen from his lungs, but the Raging Bull climbs right back to his feet!

 

“YEAAAHH!”

 

And the crowd eats it up.

 

“FIVE”

 

“FOUR”

 

“THREE”

 

“Manson is looking indestructible out there.”

 

“Pete why do you sound surprised?”

 

“Why do you ask?”

 

“I don’t know I’m just WONDERING that’s all.”

 

Slightly miffed The Rage stands ready to bring Manson down for good as he charges forward with the Staples Center air conditioning at his back.

 

“CRRRRRACK!!!”

 

“TWO”

 

Manson remains standing as Jason lays on the mat a victim of a Spike Jenkins Yakuza kick that took the victims head CLEAN OFF!

 

“What a shot!”

 

Spike turns toward the blistering crowd holding up one finger as if giving himself a point. Yes folks what a surprise Hollywood Spike Jenkins is a mark for himself.

 

“CRACK!”

 

Manson is also a mark for Jenkins, like marking his face up with a devastating elbow to the face.

 

“ONE!!!”

 

“BZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTT”

 

“Who could it be?” Pete wonders.

 

The crowd erupts for another recent returnee as “Anxiety” hits the SWF specially designed sound system as Christian Fury emerges into view. With kendo stick in hand Fury jogs down the entrance ramp visibly excited about the opportunity he has been given…he just needs to outlast eighteen other competitors.

 

“Hailing from Cleveland, Ohio…CHRISTIAN FURRRRY!!!”

 

“Pete I would say this man is the wildcard. He has all the tools to get it done, but such a low number could hurt him.” King compliments Fury.

 

“That and the four other guys in the ring.” And Pete obviously has a heated history with the guy.

 

Dropping his kendo stick at ringside, Fury hurries into the ring as Manson pushes Jenkins back into the turnbuckle. Immediately Fury meets with Stryke who charges the Cleveland native for the hell of it since Jason Von Dierch kills him dead with a leaping clothesline anyway! Dierch rolls right back to his feet where Fury is waiting with a spinning roundhouse kick that Dierch actually dodges. Fury loses control of what little control he had as Dierch hoists him into a body slam position while trying to dump the fresh Fury to the outside!!!

 

“Get him Dierch!” Kin…Pete yells…SWERVE!

 

Fury though refuses to leave early as he grips the top rope with both hands making it impossible for Dierch to push him over. Manson noticing the struggle latches on to Spike’s arm and whips him into the pile causing a slight domino effect. Dierch staggers backward from the impact as Spike falls to the mat clutching his face. And Fury comes out unscathed until he turns to notice Manson standing right in front of him. Attempting to put the fear of god in the grizzled veteran Manson lifts his clubbing right hand only to have Fury deliver a flurry of jabs to his sternum followed by a strong knee to the weakened gut. With his bitter opponent doubled over Fury bounces off the ropes leaping into the air with a pendulum like scissors kick that puts the Raging Bull on the mat!!

 

“C’mon Pete don’t you think Fury is at least doing decent for himself. I mean he is a good guy…now.” King antagonizes his partner in crime.

 

Stryke calmly rises back to his feet ignoring Fury for a moment as he hoists a hurting Manson to his feet. Using a decent amount of strength the ‘Fuck veteran pushes Manson backward into the ropes and grabs a leg. In a moment of despair Stryke makes eye contact with one Christian Fury who nods at his veteran in need of help as he grabs the other leg. In unison both men look to hoist the Raging Bull over the ropes backward, but the German protagonist interrupts the proceedings by driving a forearm into the temple of Fury.

 

“Nice shot from Von Dierch.”

 

“C’mon Pete please drop the grudge. You know that was a mistake by Dierch cause the point of the match is to eliminate competitors not save them.”

 

Suicide King would sure does have a point and it seems Dierch heard the announcer’s critique as the German brawler attempts to hoist Fury over the top!!! The veteran intelligently hooks his arm under the middle rope causing a problem with upward momentum. Stryke continues diligently to toss Manson over, but to no avail until he makes eye contact with Spike…

 

…To which Jenkins politely declines with a sharp middle finger directed toward Stryke!

 

“YEEEEAAAHH!!”

 

The hometown crowd actually cheers Jenkins who continues to catch his breath away from the action. Obviously Stryke doesn’t take Spike’s disrespect lightly as he drops everything and charges the former cruiserweight champion. The number one entrant rolls his eyes as he exits the trap of the turnbuckles to the middle of the ring where Jason Von Dierch surprises the man from Hollywood with a running shoulder block! The impact sends Spike forward into Stryke who uses his momentum to toss Spike over the top rope!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And on to the ring apron.

 

“OOOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd echoes as Spike damn near falls off the apron just from the shock of it all. Stryke panics as does Jenkins who sloppily springboards into the ring almost tripping over himself. Nobody in the Staples Center has any idea what Spike was trying to do since Stryke catches the youthful veteran nailing him with a standard belly to belly suplex with the technique of Ghost Machine version 1.0 as opposed to the improved 2.0 version.

 

“Spike came *THIS* close to meeting his end there.”

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

Over by the north ropes Fury smacks Manson with a forearm before using the second rope as a lift to kicking Manson in the face.

 

“CRACK!!”

 

“SIX”

 

“FIVE”

 

The Raging Bull retreats in an attempt to gain back the strength he had when he first entered the ring when it was a choke slam fest.

 

“Woah I just noticed the ring is getting quite full.” King states

 

“There are five men in the ring currently with one more getting ready to come in.”

 

“FOUR”

 

“THREE”

 

“TWO”

 

“ONE!!!”

 

“BBBBBBZZZZZZZZZZZTTTT”

 

Some members of the crowd complain about spilled drinks and choking on popcorn as some weird robot song plays over the PA.

 

“Ok five men in the ring, and a robot…maybe?” King certainly struggled with that phrase.

 

The crowd is totally indifferent to Ghost Machine even though there are a few cases of extreme jeering that only the top heels have garnered. The unorthodox robot makes his triumphant entry as Chris Belcourt pushes the hunk of metal down the ramp on a dolly. The SWF road agent looks like he would rather be boiled in scalding hot oil than be for lack of a better term Ghost Machine’s bitch. After breaking a major sweat Belcourt allows Ghost Machine to step forward pulling an introduction card out of his mouth before handing it to Chris Belcourt who seems to be doing some overtime this week. The unlucky road agent relinquishes the card to Funyon before getting the hell out of the Staples Center for a much needed smoke break.

 

“Hailing from Parts Unknown…GHOST MACHINE V.2.0!!!”

 

The robotic individual enters the ring gaining the attention of one Jason Von Dierch who has had a fantastic outing in the ‘Fuck so far. Ghost Machine looks to hurt Dierch, but the German brawler is slightly quicker to the punch. Ghost though dodges the closed fist opening the door for a heavy shotei bomb that drops Dierch in one shot.

 

“OMG BUMB OFF A SHOTEI!!!”

 

A couple marks in the audience freak out as Dierch falls to the mat due to the palm strike. Ghost Machine wishes to destroy the impudent human as he pulls The Rage into a standing head scissor symbolizing the beginning of his/its powerful piledriver. Hollywood Spike Jenkins mentally decides to take a chance as he jogs forward leaping off the back of the immobile Dierch attempting to drive a knee into Ghost Machine’s hard drive.

 

“That’s a quirky way to perform a shining wizard.”

 

“Oh c’mon King that’s a brilliant way to perform it. Ghost Machine never saw it com…”

 

Pete is stopped dead noticing that Jenkins over jumped the mech competitor slightly leading to the robot staggering back with Jenkins on his shoulder. Spike’s face grows cold as Ghost Machine attempts to dump him to the outside, but the straight edger grabs the top rope with one arm on the way down…

 

 

 

 

 

 

…Saving himself from elimination!!

 

“YEEEEAAAHHH!!”

 

The crowd erupts as Spike hurries back into the ring from the ring apron continuing forward driving a knee into the back of Ghost Machine. Ghost Machine’s CPU orders him to stagger forward uncontrollably even falling into a flatliner delivered by Christian Fury! South of the conquering of Ghost Machine Stryke delivers a series of right hands to the face of Dierch who just recovered from the beating Ghost Machine gave him. Stryke attempts to level Dierch with another off the wall right hand, but the German born competitor ducks locking the SWF veteran in a full nelson. The Rage’s grip isn’t nearly as tight because of fatigue factors, but then again Stryke’s vitality has also taken a hit being the fourth entrant and all.

 

“Stryke should thank The Rage for keeping both men in the ring with that painful full nelson.” Pete says.

 

“Agreed. Even though I’m sure if Stryke got eliminated it wouldn’t hurt him as bad.”

 

“True, he has been eliminated in the past three Clusterfuck matches.”

 

“*Cough*FOUR*COUGH!” King seems to have quite a cold.

 

“OOOOO!”

 

The crowd echoes as Fury drops Spike with a single forearm. Spike falls into the corner in a sitting position trying to gain some rest after having his jaw JAKKED by the wild forearm. Fury looks to finish Spike off possibly, but the weak straight edger makes sure to point out that Ghost Machine is back on his feet…functioning normally.

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

“EIGHT”

 

Fury makes no mention of the cold robot shadowing him as he leaps forward on to the second rope shocking everyone with such a risky tactic. Fury leaps backward turning in the air to face the menacing machine as he locks his leg around the head of Ghost Machine attempting a hurricarana. Ghost Machine well aware of the pain he loves to dish out to humans…

 

Humans…plural.

 

Ghost Machine uses Fury’s momentum against him as he simply tosses the veteran off into the turnbuckle where Spike Jenkins’s sits.

 

“SMASH!!!”

 

Fury clutches his back rolling on the mat while Spike simply has a far away look in his eye.

 

“THREE”

 

“TWO”

 

“ONE!!!”

 

“BZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTTTT!!”

 

The house lights dim as post psychedelic strobe lights pan around the Staples Center like a laser show as “I’m Your Boogey Man” hits the sound system.

 

“BOOOO!”

 

Unimpressed with the show and the man that emerges the crowd jeers the delusional man not machine known as The 70’s Dude!

 

“Another ‘Fuck first timer. Man King we’ve had plenty of those tonight.”

 

“Leave it to the SWF to break the first timers in the right way…giggity”

 

The beer bellied 70’s Dude struts down the aisle dancing like a rejected actor trying out for Flashdance. The Dude attempts to whore himself out to women half his age inducing vomit around the arena.

 

“Hailing from Newark, New Jersey…THE 70’s DUDE!!!”

 

“Oh have mercy!” King screeches.

 

The Dude enters the ring understanding that everyone in the ring, but Ghost Machine is pretty banged up. Ghost Machine stares his newest victim down before stalking forward with cruel intentions.

 

“Hey Pete it’s the Robot or man vs. the Dude or man. This is a battle for the ages.”

 

The 70’s Dude stops Ghost Machine…with his hand? Slightly malfunctioning Ghost Machine waits as the lights in the arena dim and a disco ball falls from the ceiling!! Already sweating like a pig the Dude strikes a quick pose as the hip disco anthem “Stayin Alive” by the Bee Gees mysteriously hits the PA system.

 

“Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk,

I'm a woman's man, no time to talk.

Music loud and women warm.

I've been kicked around since I was born.

And now it's all right, it's O.K.”

 

Hysterically The 70’s Dude begins to do the once popular disco dance shaking his hips while flipping his hand pointing to the air.

 

“Well now, I get low and I get high

And if I can't get either I really try.

Got the wings of heaven on my shoes

I'm a dancin' man and I just can't lose.

You know it's all right, it's O.K.”

 

Ghost Machine begins to bob his head a little along with moving his hips all the while the rest of the SWF superstars catch their breath.

 

“Ah, ha, ha, ha,

Stayin' alive.

Stayin' alive.

Ah, ha, ha, ha,

Stayin' alive.”

 

The song hits what can only be described as the chorus as Ghost Machine cannot resist the urge any longer as he begins to do the robot!!!

 

“Hahahahahah.” Pete can’t help but chuckle.

 

“What the hell…” King is speechless.

 

Ghost Machine continues to bust a move as suddenly the lights shoot on leading to Manson of all people delivering a kick to Ghost Machine’s gut. Using the possibility of opportunity, The 70’s Dude leaps a few inches off the ground slinging his leg behind the head of a doubled over Ghost Machine!!

 

“CRASHHHH!”

 

“THREE MILE ISLAND!!!!”

 

Pete shills as the robot was tricked by man made music…despicable. The disco ball returns to prop heaven as the arena lights return to normal.

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

On the other side of the ring Stryke hoists Dierch up for a slingshot suplex, but in his weakened state the SWF veteran can only drive the German brawler down on to the top rope gut first. With an opening Christian Fury leaps forward taking Stryke down uncontested with a cross body!!

 

“SIX”

 

“FIVE”

 

Dierch’s perspiration levels are reaching an all time high as he attempts to pull himself up…

 

“CRRRRRACK!!”

 

“Holy crap!!!”

 

“Crap?”

 

Dierch falls to the floor due to a Spike Jenkins kick to the face!!!!!!!

 

“DING!!!!”

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

The Rage Jason Von Dierch

ENTERED: 3rd

LEFT: 2nd

ELIMINATED: Nobody

ELIMINATED BY: Hollywood Spike Jenkins

LEFT: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, Stryke, Manson, Christian Fury, Ghost Machine V.2.0, The 70’s Dude.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

“Dierch had a good showing, but the number could have been his downfall.”

 

“Or Spike being an opportunistic glory hogging son of a bitch.”

 

“You know King you could have called him Kobe Bryant and that would have saved you a whole mouth full.”

 

“And you could have said no, which would have saved you a mouth full.”

 

EWWW gross.

 

“THREE”

 

“TWO”

 

“ONE!!!!”

 

The countdown reaches zero…

 

“BBBBZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTT!”

 

“GET GET GET OVER IT!!

 

“Get over it” hits the PA like a hooker OD’ing on caffeine announcing that the NEW hardest working man in show business has arrived. A lone spotlight shines down on the entrance ramp as the failed actor makes his way down the ramp.

 

“YYYYYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

 

“Another first time ‘Fuck competitor.” King just likes to say Fuck and get away with it.

 

“This ovation is almost deafening.”

 

“Hailing from Hollywood, CALIFORNIA…WES DAVENPORT!!!”

 

The crowd explodes as Wes rolls into the ring and goes right after Manson who is beaten and bruised.

 

“CRACK!”

 

But he’s also a tough son of a bitch. Wes finds his nose possibly relocated as Manson simply lifts his foot driving it into the face of Wes. The actor staggers backward from the impact falling into The 70’s Dude who takes the liberties of locking the enigma in a modified headlock before raking his face across the top rope. Manson feeling a bit left out saunters over taking the time to club Wes in the back.

 

“Manson and The 70’s Dude using their intelligence to double team the freshest man in the match.”

 

“I’m thinking that’s a combined intelligence Pete.”

 

“Quite possibly so.”

 

“SMACK!!!”

 

“WHOOOO!”

 

The crowd’s eyes shift over to Stryke and Christian Fury who have been at each others throats since Fury’s arrival into the match. Stryke clutches his chest after a brutal chop, but let it be damned the ‘Fuck veteran doesn’t strike back.

 

“SMACK!!!”

 

“WHOOOO!”

 

Fury grimaces, but he’s in too deep now to beg off.

 

“SMACK!”

 

“WHOOOOO!”

 

Stryke strikes again.

 

“SMACK”

 

“WHOOOO!!”

 

Fury fires right back as both men reload before unleashing forearms respectively.

 

“CRRRACK X 2!!!!!”

 

Both men fall backward as the Staples Center audience leap to their feet giving the match especially Stryke and Fury a standing ovation.

 

“CLAP CLAP CLAP!!!”

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

“EIGHT”

 

“Amazing, Stryke and Fury almost pounded on each other for a full two minutes.”

 

“Oh yeah that’s amazing especially now that both are weakened for the rest of the match making it twice as hard to win…way to go guys!” King brings the sarcasm.

 

“FIVE”

 

“FOUR”

 

“THREE”

 

“TWO”

 

“ONE!!!”

 

“BBBBBBZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTT!!”

 

“We are officially halfway in CLUSTERFUCK 2006”

 

The crowd rise’s in anticipation to see entrant number ten as “Oh No” kills the PA, but nobody can hear it anyway since the reaction is too damn loud.

 

“YEEEEAAAAAAHHHHH!”

 

“Hailing from Hollywood Boulevard…URBAN LEGEND TODD CORTEZ!!!”

 

The crowd explodes as a quick burst of pyro goes off usually showering Todd Cortez, but one of the favorites ignores his usual theatric entrance while sprinting down to the ring.

 

“King I usually don’t make predictions. But Todd Cortez is pound for pound one of the best athletes the SWF has ever seen. Not long ago he faced El Luchadore Magnifico….”

 

“And lost.”

 

“Yes, but he took the champion to his limits and back again. I’d say he’s more than due for another shot.”

 

Cortez wonders over toward Stryke and Christian Fury; both still reeling from their epic brawling. Grabbing both men by the head, Cortez slams both men into each other downing the two in a single flick of the wrist. Wes continues to get pounded on until Spike realizes he needs an ally, and who better than a fellow Hollywood native. Spike stalks Manson and The 70’s Dude choosing to get extremely low before powering upward lifting Manson vertically over the top rope…AND TO THE FLOOR!!!

 

“DING!!!”

 

“Just like that King, that’s all it takes. Manson was in complete control then BAM it’s over.”

 

“True and once again Spike takes advantage from behind or some other angle that doesn’t involve going face to face.”

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

MANSON

ENTERED: 5th

LEFT: 3rd

ELIMINATED: Nobody

ELIMINATED BY: Hollywood Spike Jenkins

LEFT IN RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, Stryke, Christian Fury, Ghost Machine V.2.0, The 70’s Dude, Wes Davenport, Urban Legend Todd Cortez.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

Spike’s eyes roll back into his head dreaming of beautiful visions of a pillow and his bed. Spike shakes away the illusions just in time to see The 70’s Dude coming from an angle with a clothesline strong enough to elevate Spike over the top rope. The straight edger’s hands squirm all around looking to grab the top rope on the way down…but he fails.

 

“DINGHOLDONASEC!”

 

“Hey what’s the hold up? I can still hear out of my right ear so why is there no bell?”

 

“Look King Spike is somehow holding on.”

 

The 70’s Dude almost loses his cool once he realizes that Spike was able to grab the middle rope. In theory Spike’s feet should have still touched the floor, but the straight edger was able to bend his knees not allowing his feet to hit the floor. The Dude looks down on Spike sinisterly as he launches his foot forward into his opponent’s back.

 

“CRACK!!”

 

The impact causes Spike to swing forward followed by flowing backward smacking his spine on the ring apron.

 

“NO!”

 

Spike shouts his grip loosening considerably while his ability to keep his feet from touching the ground falters.

 

“One more should do it.” King mutters.

 

The Dude prepares another punt…

 

“CRACKKKK!!”

 

“YEEEEAAAH!”

 

“What is he doing???”

 

Spike remains outstretched on the outside, but not on the floor! Wes repays Spike’s earlier contribution with a jab to The Dude’s kidney region.

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

The Dude turns into Wes who shuts the heavyweight down with a textbook DDT putting Spike in the clear, but for how long? The NEW straight edge sensation carefully pulls himself to the ring apron; lying on it looking to get some rest. Wes looks down on his fellow Hollywood native giving him a firm nod, and Spike responds with a twitch…

 

…LEADING TO WES RETORTING WITH A KICK!!!!!

 

“Shit…”

 

Spike hollers as he rolls toward the floor…

 

“And they say he’s a bad actor. Give this man a grammy.”

 

“Ugh King that’s for musicians.”

 

“I don’t care Spike’s gone and that makes me…oh you have got to be kidding me.”

 

Before Wes can check on the man he just “eliminated” he notices the countdown reaching two.

 

“TWO”

 

“ONE!!!”

 

“BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTTT!!!!”

 

“King what is that up in the sky…”

 

“Is it a bird?”

 

“No…”

 

“Is it a plane?”

 

“Nope…”

 

“Then what the fuck is it?”

 

“Super…man…????”

 

The crowd gawks at the ceiling as a man in red and blue spandex descend from the sky and into the ring just as Funyon announces the mysterious competitor.

 

“Hailing from Krypton…SUPERMAN!!”

 

The crowd goes ballistic as the man dressed, as Superman stands tall in the ring with his hands on his hips.

 

“King that’s…Matt Myers!!!”

 

“Fool that’s not Myers. That is Superman. You know the alien that is faster than a speeding bullet, stronger than a locomotive, can leap Janus in one bound.” Yeah King marks.

 

That’s right the cosplay master returnith in grand style. The ring is full of superstars except Myers who has evidently pissed off Wes in some fashion. Soon memories of Wes getting cut for his first ever big project role flashes causing the actor to charge the man of steel.

 

“Oh yeah. Before Wes moved his career to B movies he tried a big budget film. That being the new Superman that remained in limbo until earlier last year. Yes Wes was cut from a film that floated in limbo for years. And now Myers is going to pay for his rejection.” How does Pete know this?

 

Myers’s eyes bulge as Wes slams his knee into the gut of Superman before tossing the cosplay master over the top rope and to the floor!!!!!

 

“DING!!!!”

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Matt Myers

ENTERED: 11th

LEFT: 4th

ELIMINATED: His pride

ELIMINATED BY: Wes Davenport

LEFT IN RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, Stryke, Christian Fury, Ghost Machine V.2.0, The 70’s Dude, Wes Davenport, Todd Cortez.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

During the comedy that is Matt Myers, Spike Jenkins somehow remained on the ring apron horizontally holding on to the bottom rope with one hand, and now he is safely in the ring with five men and a robot that wants to destroy him. Wes quickly realizes that Matt Myers is a cosmic joke, but he doesn’t realize that an Urban Legend is standing behind him. Wes can’t act his way out of Cortez’s Russian leg sweep as the Urban Legend takes the actor down. Rolling through, Cortez hurries to his feet before dropping a leg across the throat of the B movie star…

 

“CRRRRAAACKKK!”

 

“Where did he come from?”

 

…Cortez eats a basement dropkick from one Stryke. Tired, Stryke rises back to his feet to probably go haunt Fury some more, but instead is forced to face off against the improved Ghost Machine!!

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

Stryke a man without fear looks to grapple with Ghost Machine, but the dynamic robot performs a standard go behind locking Stryke in a reverse waist lock. The heavy cruiserweight refuses to go down so easy throwing elbows like his life depended on it. Ghost Machine’s inhumanly strength actually starts to decrease giving Stryke the opening he needs with a leaping, twisting enziguri that clocks Ghost Machine in the side of the head. Stryke makes it back to his feet immediately only to have Christian Fury sneak up on him with a reverse waist lock.

 

“EIGHT”

 

“SEVEN”

 

Totally bummed from the lack of rest Stryke attempts to break free of Fury’s trap, but to no avail. Cortez back on his feet after eating that sensational basement dropkick earlier in the match. The Urban Legend kneels down looking for an opening all the while Fury actually hoists Stryke into the air, which signals Cortez to take off. The former number one contender to Magnifico’s World Title charges hitting Stryke in the rib area with the high impact Hollow Point!!!

 

“SIX”

 

“FIVE”

 

The impact forces Fury to stagger backward blind of what is going on behind him while Stryke is motionless in his ‘Fuck rival’s hands. If Fury had eyes in the back of his head he would be able to clearly see a dazed Spike Jenkins act on impulse by pulling the top rope down causing a double low bridge effect!!! Fury stumbles over the top rope and to the floor, as does Stryke who graciously attempts to hold on to the top rope…

 

…Only to have Fury in one last ditch effort force him south to the floor!!!!!

 

“DING!!!!!”

 

“DING!!!!!”

 

“Christian Fury and Stryke are both gone!!!”

 

“Well Pete that would only be fitting for those two who solely battled each other during their stay in the ‘Fuck.” King decides to try and make sense.

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Christian Fury

ENTERED: 6th

LEFT: 5th

ELIMINATED: Nobody

ELIMINATED BY: Urban Legend Todd Cortez and Hollywood Spike Jenkins

LEFT IN THE RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, Ghost Machine V.2.0, The 70’s Dude, Wes Davenport, Urban Legend Todd Cortez

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

“FOUR”

 

“THREE”

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Stryke

ENTERED: 4th

LEFT: 6th

ELIMINATED: Nobody

ELIMINATED BY: Urban Legend Todd Cortez and Hollywood Spike Jenkins

LEFT IN THE RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, Ghost Machine V.2.0, The 70’s Dude, Wes Davenport, Urban Legend Todd Cortez

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

“TWO”

 

“ONE!!!!”

 

“BBBBBBBBZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTTTT!”

 

The audience doesn’t get a chance to rest between that extraordinary elimination sequence, as the next mysterious superstar is ready to make their presence felt in this year’s Clusterfuck!

 

“China Girl” hits the PA signaling the emergence of another high flying cruiserweight that will definitely be out of in this case her element. Frisco leaves his Japanese import to fend for herself giving his goodbyes at the top of the ramp. Determined to be the first woman to win the ‘Fuck Candace sprints down the ramp.

 

“Hailing from Tokyo, Japan…Candace “The Joshi Dragon” Okimura!!!”

 

“YEEEAAAH!”

 

The crowd cheers for the likeable Japanese babe as she enters the ring immediately performing a picture perfect dropkick to the face of Spike Jenkins, which causes the number one entrant to almost go over the top rope AGAIN!!!

 

“Get him Candace!” King cheers the female on.

 

Teetering on the top rope Spike kicks his legs like a world class swimmer trying to keep his body in the ring. The female risk taker attempts to hurry over toward Spike, but instead she falls into the sights of one The 70’s Dude! The Dude poses a little bit for the attractive young lady only to have his hamstring kicked inward by the feisty Japanese import!

 

“YEEEAH!”

 

The crowd cheers the underdog on as she continues to blast away at The Dude’s thigh.

 

“CRACK!”

 

“CRACK!”

 

“CRACK!”

 

After a moment of stinging pain The Dude decides to strike back with a disrespectful backhand that sends the Joshi Dragon reeling. Grappling the weak warrior, The 70’s Dude flips her over on to the mat with a slick side suplex. Spike thankfully finds his way back into the ring directing himself fact to face with the Urban Legend. Spike attempts a forearm smash, but Cortez proves to be quicker unleashing a swift kick to Spike’s sternum while pulling him into a standing head scissor!!

 

“HE’S GOING FOR THE RIOT ACT PLUS!!”

[Bruce Blank 0]

Holy shit!

 

We both made Matt Myers "Superman"

[zyon 0]

Part 2

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

 

“HE’S GOING TO EXPOSE US ALL!!”

 

“As what, King?”

 

“Obviously as people who like head drops. What did you think I meant?”

 

The crowd slowly rises to their feet looking to see one of if not the most devastating move in the SWF. Cortez’s plan goes up in flames once he notices that Ghost Machine is tossing a boot toward his face…that CONNECTS! Cortez flails backward letting Spike drop to the mat peacefully, using the Ghost Machine distraction Spike rolls away from the war zone looking to keep his hopes for winning the match alive. Clutching his face Cortez tries to strike back with a closed right hand yet the robotic menace counters with a powerful shotei palm strike.

 

“King is it just me or is Ghost Machine looking quicker?”

 

“It’s just you.”

 

The Urban Legend staggers forward allowing Ghost Machine to take him down with a simple double leg before locking on a…Texas cloverleaf???

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

“King, look Ghost Machine is performing a Texas cloverleaf.”

 

“So?”

 

“Otherwise known as the Superior Stretch.”

 

“Are you on crack? The Texas cloverleaf is a great submission move. That mechanical wonder probably picked it up in an upgrade or something. Pete would you please put your conspiracy theories away for the moment.”

 

“FIVE”

 

“FOUR”

 

Ghost Machine continues to pull back on the submission maneuver until Wes Davenport plays the part of hero striking the machine down with a STIFFFFFF knee to the face.

 

“TWO”

 

“ONE!!!!!!!”

 

“BZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT!!”

 

“I’m Alive” plays throughout the arena causing an everlasting motion of sickness to spread as everyone’s least favorite rookie arrogantly enters the fray.

 

“Hailing from Brunswick, Georgia…KEVIN COYOTE!!!!!”

 

The cocky rookie is actually without the glamorous cell phone proving to one particular SWF road agent that he can take things seriously…

 

…And then he turns and rips up a pro JJ Johnson sign.

 

“Pete I know you have at least a thousand different critiques for this kid, but you know what? By the end of the night you will be complimenting him on a fine performance. Hell he may just win the thing.”

 

“It’s possible, but not really all that probable King.”

 

“BOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd jeers the rookie who enters the ring attacking Candace Okimura with a leaping knee to the back that sends the Japanese import forward and OVER THE TOP ROPE…on to the ring apron!

 

“OOOOOO”

 

The crowd echoes as Candace quickly rolls back into the ring leaving Coyote to snap his fingers while muttering the word “Darn.” After knocking a few bolts loose on Ghost Machine, Wes Davenport attempts to lift the rookie into a torture rack!!!

 

“YEEEAAAHHH!”

 

The crowd cheers the other man from Hollywood, but soon the cheers turn into random noises once the rookie slips out from Wes’s narcissistic submission maneuver. Being the freshest athlete in the ring, Coyote dominates the fatigued Wes with a diving reverse DDT! Coyote shows a flash of improvement with his ego choosing to watch his back instead of taunting the audience. Good thing too since the opportunistic 70’s Dude attempts to lock in a Russian leg sweep.

 

“CRACK!”

 

One SHARRRRP elbow is all it takes to force the creepy delusional post hippie off of him. Taking liberties, Coyote locks the staggering Dude in a front face lock before risking his chance to win the match by leaping off the top rope taking the Dude down with a sensational tornado DDT!!

 

“YEAH!”

 

The maneuver certainly popped the crowd, as did the arrival of one SWF road agent Judge Mental.

 

“It seems the Judge has got a front row seat to this event.” Pete points out the obvious.

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

The arrogant rookie celebrates his own accomplishment by throwing his arms up and spinning around hysterically…spinning right into Spike Jenkins.

 

“CRASH!!!!”

 

“THE HIGHLIGHTER KING!!!!” Pete shills.

 

“Gaw…c’mon Kevin don’t be retarded. It’s ok to be arrogant, but don’t be an idiot…I’m looking at you Spike.”

 

“THREE”

 

“TWO”

 

“ONE!!!!”

 

“BZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT!!”

 

The crowd rocks the Staples Center exploding for the rare Highlighter along with another random SWF superstar making his ‘Fuck debut.

 

BANG!!!

 

A loud explosion goes off as many beautiful women run out half naked to the tune of “Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now!)”

 

“Everybody Dance Now!”

 

The theme starts causing both The 70’s Dude and Ghost Machine to start dancing again!!

 

“Hailing from Parts Unknown…THE CRIMSON SKULL!!!”

 

“DING!!!!”

 

And The 70’s Dude’s dancing leads to his demise as Ghost Machine uses the memory he stored earlier in the match to repay the creepy Dude by tossing him over the top rope!!!

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

The 70’s Dude

ENTERED: 8th

LEFT: 7th

ELIMINATED: Nobody

ELIMINATED BY: Ghost Machine V.2.0

LEFT IN THE RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, Ghost Machine V.2.0, Wes Davenport, Urban Legend Todd Cortez, Candace “The Joshi Dragon” Okimura, Kevin Coyote, The Crimson Skull.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

“The 70’s Dude is gone, and he doesn’t look too happy.”

 

Ghost Machine taunts The 70’s Dude with one last dance move before turning back to the ring…

 

“CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAACCCCCCCKKK!”

 

BUZZSAW KICK….YOWZA!

 

“WHAT A SHOT!!!” Pete is Pete.

 

“BE ORIGINAL!” King thinks Pete is someone else.

 

The Crimson Skull plays the role of the villain well as he enters the ring menacingly yet he trips on his long crimson cape hilariously.

 

“HAHAHAHA”

 

The crowd just about dies laughing as Spike tries to take the opportunity to toss The Crimson Skull out. Skull explodes upward however forcing Spike back by the armpits smashing him into the turnbuckle back first. Realistically striking fear in Spike along with the Staples Center audience The Crimson Skull hoists the veteran up by his armpits and dumping him over the top rope!!!!

 

“DINNOPE!”

 

Spike spits in the face of fate grappling the cable that holds the turnbuckle in place, which also saves Spike from falling to his doom. The villain would look to continue his thrashing of Spike, but Wes interrupts the proceedings with a splash that has little effect on The Crimson Skull!

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

“EIGHT”

 

While Wes Davenport attempts to knock the villain down to size, Candace uses her will power to hoist Ghost Machine back to his feet. As if his battery just recharged the heinous robot tosses the cruiserweight like she was nothing with a slick railgun suplex.

 

“THREE”

 

“TWO”

 

“ONE!!!!!!”

 

“BBBBBBBBBBBBZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTT!”

 

"PREPARE...FOR...LANDON!"

 

...WAAAAAHHHHH...

 

*DUM DUM*

 

“BBBBBOOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd explodes jeering the favorite to win this years ‘Fuck…

 

…Because of the simple fact he won last years.

 

“Megalomaniac” hits the PA drawing the attention of everyone including Ghost Machine who looks to be the only competitor not occupied with an opponent or that fatigue thing.

 

“Now hailing from Huron, South Dakota…One half of the SWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS LANDON La Cucaracha MADDIX!!!”

 

The crowd buzzes with anticipation as Landon’s achievements play across the Smarktron. Ghost Machine looks baffled that Landon has yet to appear.

 

“AHAHHHHAAA”

 

The crowd suddenly erupts…

 

“That bastard Landon just leaped the safety barricade.” King screams.

 

Ghost Machine hears nothing as Landon enters the ring from well behind EVERYONE! Charging forward the New Generation shocks the mech warrior with a leaping shoulder that puts all 224 lbs into the back of Ghost Machine. The flawless robot staggers forward…

 

…Continues to stagger…

 

…Flails over the top rope…

 

…AND TO THE FLOOORRRR!!”

 

“DING!!”

 

“NO WAY!!!”

 

“The reigning ‘Fuck champion just made the dominating Ghost Machine his first victim!”

 

The emotionless robot…freaks out? Stomping his foot and cursing everything around him Ghost Machine threatens three generations of Landon’s family before realizing that everyone in the arena is staring at him.

 

“Is he…a robot?”

 

Ghost Machine gulps before seemingly shutting down as he falls back into the dolly that carried him out here. Chris Belcourt returns wishing Myers would cosplay as him as he attempts to push Ghost Machine up the ramp without running into obstacles along the way.

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Ghost Machine

ENTERED: 7th

LEFT: 8th

ELIMINATED: The 70’s Dude

ELIMINATED BY: Landon La Cucaracha Maddix

LEFT IN THE RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, Wes Davenport, Urban Legend Todd Cortez, Candace “The Joshi Dragon” Okimura, Kevin Coyote, The Crimson Skull, Landon La Cucaracha Maddix

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

”Face it Pete Landon is a marked man. He’s got no Martial Law this year, just like Spike has no Revolution Zero to guard his back.”

 

“And so far both have done well for themselves.”

 

“Well…” King is speechless.

 

Over by the turnbuckle Wes continues to pound away on the indestructible Crimson Skull with a mirage of rights and lefts.

 

“SWISH!”

 

One right hand misfires letting Skull awkwardly hoist Wes into the air driving him to the mat with a SUPER POWERFUL DEADLY EARTH SHATTERING SPINEBUSTER OF DOOOOOOOOM! Wes clutches his ribs gasping for breath as Skull begins to ascend the top rope…

 

…Yeah he really is ascending the top rope.

 

Untouched The Crimson Skull reaches the top rope ready to leap down on to the motionless Wes ONLY TO INSTEAD TRIP ON HIS CAPE AND FALL TO THE FLOOR!!!

 

“HAHAHAYEEEAAH!”

 

The Staples Center laughs hysterically at the embarrassed super villain. Officials immediately try to sustain The Crimson Skull, but they are powerless. Disrobing the unlucky cape, Skull hurries on to the ring apron and up to the top rope. Wes looks to have regained motion in his body, but it’s too late as The Crimson Skull leaps off the turnbuckle absolutely KILLING Wes with the CRIMSON SPLASH!!!

 

“Ha, I call bloody murder on that one.”

 

Wes is certainly shell shocked as he begins to roll around on the mat clutching his rib area, and NOW The Crimson Skull leaves.

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

The Crimson Skull

ENTERED: 14th

LEFT: 9th

ELIMINATED: Himself

ELIMINATED BY: Himself

LEFT IN THE RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, Wes Davenport, Urban Legend Todd Cortez, Candace “The Joshi Dragon” Okimura, Kevin Coyote, Landon La Cucaracha Maddix.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

Spike finally pulls himself back into the ring via rolling under the bottom rope. Reaching his feet the new straight edge sensation faces off against an Urban Legend…round two.

 

“EIGHT”

 

“SEVEN”

 

Really not in the mood, Spike wildly swings toward Cortez hoping to blast the skilled competitor over the top rope.

 

“SIX”

 

“FIVE”

 

Cortez easily ducks THE SHOT grappling Spike for what looks to be a double-legged takedown, but opts to hoist the number one entrant upward.

 

“NO!”

 

The crowd mutters as Cortez tries to toss Spike over his shoulder, but the resilient straight edge sensation holds the top rope pushing himself away from the floor. Both men joust for position with Cortez having the obvious leverage advantage yet Spike just wants to stay alive.

 

“FOUR”

 

“THREE”

 

Sick of dealing with this particular game, Cortez decides to play a brand spanking new game simply titled CROTCH DROPPAH…FOOL!

 

“OOOOO!”

 

The audience echoes as Spike clutches his nether regions his vision blurred from the fatigue effect. Through the moisture, Spike sees a sprinting Cortez so the straight edger decides to let his natural bodily function take over…

 

“PLOP!”

 

Spike falls to the mat exhausted leaving Cortez to miss a lariat leaving him open for a Kevin Coyote SPEEEEAR!!!!

 

“What impact. The kid could indeed have the best spear in the bid’ness.”

 

“I’m sure Cortez has trouble deciding rather it was a Coyote or a rhino that gored him to the mat.”

 

“TWO”

 

“ONE!!!!!”

 

“BZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTT!!”

 

“I wonder who it is?”

 

“It better be god Pete cause if you say I wonder one more time I’m going to kill you.”

 

“Don’t ask me no questions” puts the audience in a spell as they can’t believe the Trailerpark Messiah entered himself into the ‘Fuck after having a brutal five match series with Akira Kaibatsu that culminated less than two hours ago.

 

“BOOOO!!”

 

The crowd jeers the redneck who staggers down the entrance ramp either piss drunk or piss hurting.

 

“Hailing from the Dirty Tornado Trailer Park…BRUCE BLANK!!!”

 

Funyon booms taking another gulp of water as even he feels the effects of the ‘Fuck.

 

“This is insane.”

 

“I’m just as shocked as you are. I did not expect him to be in this match, but what the hell GO BRUCE GO!!!”

 

The King of Pain slowly enters the ring like a half dead cockroach leading to cruiserweight Candace Okimura attacking him directly. The lightweight pounds on Blank hoping to keep the rough and tough brawler on the mat where he is least effective. Landon tries to take advantage of the Joshi Dragon by lifting her straight into a back drop attempt, but the female flips out landing perfectly on her feet.

 

“CRACK!”

 

Kicking Landon in the thigh HARD the Joshi Dragon follows up with a textbook sweep that takes the reigning ‘Fuck champion down. Candace looks to follow up her momentous offense, but the now standing Bruce Blank has other ideas. The hardcore redneck latches on to the arm of the Japanese import slinging her into the ropes with an Irish whip. Surprising everyone, Candace spring boards off the middle rope flipping backward with a moonsault…

 

…Right into the unsure hands of Bruce Blank. With Candace over his shoulder the number one enemy to the cruiserweights adds to his resume` by tossing the female like a javelin up and over the top rope to the floor!!!!

 

“DING!!!!”

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Candace “The Joshi Dragon” Okimura

ENTERED: 12th

LEFT: 10th

ELIMINATED: Nobody

ELIMINATED BY: Bruce Blank

LEFT IN THE RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, Wes Davenport, Urban Legend Todd Cortez, Kevin Coyote, Landon La Cucaracha Maddix, Bruce Blank.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

“Bruce tosses the Joshi Dragon like she was Yoshi from Super Mario Brothers fame.”

 

“Due to his earlier disasterpiece I would say Bruce is at a disadvantage, but look at everyone. They are either tired, hurt, or in Wes’s case dead.”

 

Wes isn’t really dead, but he has yet to move since the Crimson Splash.

 

“FIVE”

 

“FOUR”

 

“CRRRACK!”

 

Coyote strikes Blank in the head where stains of blood remain even after a half an hour in the shower trying to stay conscious for the match that makes people famous. The King of Pain staggers around allowing the rookie to strike him down with a dropkick.

 

“ONE!!!!!!”

 

“BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTTT!!”

 

“Number 17 on his/her/robot/super villain/cosplay master way out.” Pete remains politically correct in SWF terms.

 

THE KING...HAS...RETURNED!

 

The speakers from the Staples Center call out spoiling the entrant before he even emerges from the backstage area as the aptly titled “Superstar” gets the place rocking.

 

“BOOOOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd jeers Landon’s tag team partner who jogs down the entrance ramp to join his tag team partner.

 

“Hailing from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania…the other half of the SWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS…The Icon… MAX KING!!!”

 

The Icon enters the ring going right for Landon…so they can talk strategy of course. After a moment of nods and muttered words the two walk toward the carcass of Wes Davenport. Landon carefully hoists Wes to his feet…

 

“Let’s Go WES!!!”

 

The crowd cheers.

 

“King I guess you forgot that Landon DOES have an ally in his tag team partner.”

 

Landon looks to have everything perfectly under control until Wes decided to go Norman Bates on his grappler by trying to choke the life out of Landon. Max immediately jabs the actor in the rib causing immense pain to shoot through Wes’s system. Wasting no time, Landon and Max grab Wes and toss him over the top rope, and to the floor with little to no fight from the proud actor.

 

“BOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd absolutely hates the tandem of Max and Landon, but they verbally thank Wes for his contribution to the match.

 

“DING!!!”

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Wes Davenport

ENTERED: 9th

LEFT: 11th

ELIMINATED: Matt Myers

ELIMINATED BY: The Icon Max King and Landon La Cucaracha Maddix

LEFT IN THE RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, Todd Cortez, Kevin Coyote, Landon La Cucaracha Maddix, Bruce Blank, The Icon Max King

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

Kevin Coyote looks to make history by ending it as he hoists the number one entrant back to his feet. Coyote’s hands moist from his own perspiration as well as Spike’s tries a standard go behind, and succeeds. Spike though knows he can out wrestle the rookie on his worse day so he counters that with a standing switch. Coyote tries to switch it up as well, but Spike stops that until Coyote knocks Spike around with an elbow.

 

”CRRRRRACK!!”

 

Spike’s skull could have actually shifted giving Coyote the opportunity to pull of another standing switch…with Spike dangerously close to the ropes.

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

“He’s looking to dump Spike over the top rope with a German suplex!!”

 

Spike blocks the first attempt, but on the second attempt Coyote hoists Spike halfway!!!

 

“OOOOO!”

 

The crowd echoes in anticipation as Spike secretly locks his leg behind between the middle and top rope before Coyote harshly tosses the number one entrant OVER THE TOP ROPE!!!!!!

 

“Well it was a good showing, and OK WHAT THE HELL!!” Suicide King is about to go nuts.

 

“YEEEEAAAH!”

 

The crowd explodes as Spike dangles from the ropes with his right foot tangled in the middle and top rope.

 

“AAHHH!”

 

Spike screams knowing that his ankle could possibly be shattered.

 

“FIVE”

 

Coyote turns toward his mentor Judge who looks on in the front row can’t believe what he is seeing.

 

“TURN AROUND!!!”

 

The SWF road agent screams at his pupil. Shocked, Coyote sees the Clusterfuck sensation dangling on the top rope. Amazingly enough the arrogant rookie takes the time to jaw back at his mentor.

 

“You stay out of this…I got this dawg!”

 

The rookie screams as he bends over to undo Spike’s life support…

 

“CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAACKKKKK!!”

 

“YEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHH!!”

 

The crowd explodes as Spike BLASTS Coyote with the kendo stick that was left behind by one Christian Fury! Judge gets up from his seat and makes a silent exit as both Max King and Landon Maddix clothesline the dazed rookie over the ropes and to the FLOOR!!!

 

“Gah damnit.” The Gambling Man mutters.

 

“DING!!!!!”

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Kevin Coyote

ENTERED: 13th

LEFT: 12th

ELIMINATED: Nobody

ELIMINATED BY: The Icon Max King and Landon La Cucaracha Maddix

LEFT IN THE RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, Urban Legend Todd Cortez, Landon La Cucaracha Maddix, Bruce Blank, The Icon Max King

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

The tag team champions look to carry their destructive course to one Hollywood Spike Jenkins still dangling just above the floor. Without the kendo stick Spike is in a desperate situation and the only chance he has to stay alive is a miracle.

 

“ONE!!!!!!!”

 

“BZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTT!!!”

 

”I’M BORN!!!”

 

“NO!” King shouts

 

The familiar words appears on the Smarktron as The Unique Youth sprints out to the limelight before “Vitamin” can even start playing.

 

“Hailing from Elkhart, Indiana…the SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION…ZYON!!”

 

Funyon hurries his announcing duties as Zyon dives into the ring striking both Landon and Max in a desperate attempt to get the attention away from his dangling friend.

 

“CRACK!”

 

“CRACK!”

 

“CRACK!!”

 

Zyon goes off with his energetic nature getting the best of him as he turns and bounces off the ropes before lifting off toward the tag team champions. Miffed, the tag team champions step forward catching the youth in a flapjack position, but Zyon changes momentum and drops the two with a double DDT!!!!

 

“YEEEEAAAAHHH!”

 

The crowd explodes as the Unique Youth hurries back to his feet.

 

“CRRRRACK!”

 

Only to have the cruiserweight killer Bruce Blank shock him with a forearm to the back.

 

“HEY!!”

 

The ravaged redneck shouts toward a hurt Cortez.

 

“Help me out here would ya.”

 

Cortez immediately shakes his head prepared to NOT fall into Blank’s cunning ideas to kill two birds with one stone. Blank doesn’t take kindly to rejection; just ask his second wife and her hospital bills. The redneck ultraviolent king discards hurting Zyon, instead opting to pursue Cortez who’s been trying to catch a break. The Urban Legend attempts to strike Blank, but instead finds him tossed over the top rope!!!!!

 

“Cortez lands safely on the apron.” Pete points out.

 

Blank grinds his teeth moving in for the kill while Cortez takes a deep breath hurling himself into a spring board floating through the air with a magnificent shooting star flip looking to nail Blank with a clothesline…

 

“CRRRRASH AND BURN!”

 

The hardcore messiah dodges the flashy clothesline leaving Cortez to crash into the unforgiving canvas. Blank turns back toward the spot where Cortez burned out like a comet right before it reaches Earth. The arrogant hillbilly points at his head proclaiming that he’s smarter than the average dumbass. Blank turns around disappointed in himself when he realizes that both Landon and Max have him by his left and right arm respectively. The king of hardcore struggles to break free, but Zyon runs up from behind Blank and places a SNAP dropkick into his spine causing a forward motion helping Landon and Max barely hip toss Blank over the top rope and TO THE FLOOR!!!

 

“YEEEAH!”

 

The crowd cheer as Blank decides to leave without drama knowing he’s had one hell of a night.

 

“DING!!!”

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Bruce Blank

ENTERED: 16th

LEFT: 13th

ELIMINATED: Candace “The Joshi Dragon” Okimura

ELIMINATED BY: Zyon, The Icon Max King, and Landon La Cucaracha Maddix

LEFT IN THE RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, Todd Cortez, Landon La Cucaracha Maddix, The Icon Max King, Zyon

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

“The ring is emptying as two more competitors remain to reveal themselves in this years Clusterfuck.”

 

Zyon remains on his feet as Landon and Max both charge the youngster overwhelming him with random strikes. Landon being an arrogant prick with BRAND NEW WRASSLIN’ ABILITY locks Zyon down in a Cravates holding the youth in place. Max takes the opportunity to bounce off the ropes arrogantly dancing along the way before shooting Zyon in the back with a knee. Landon releases the basic hold allowing Zyon to clutch his back while Max clobbers the youth with a jumping roundhouse kick to the head!

 

“Look who’s standing tall Pete? Max King and his good for nothing partner.”

 

Spike continues to dangle on the outside almost in position to make it back into the ring.

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

“EIGHT”

 

The number one entrant grabs the bottom rope with his hand…ONLY TO HAVE IT KICKED AWAY BY LANDON!

 

“That’s right King. Landon himself is looking to make history by winning back to back ‘Fucks.” Hey a stat that is useful.

 

“FOUR”

 

“THREE”

 

“TWO”

 

“ONE!!!”

 

Now with no interruptions the tag team champions look to finish Spike off.

 

“BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTT!!!!”

 

“TEETHGRINDER!”

 

“Oh my god…” Pete trails off.

 

“Isn’t he hurt as in his arm may never have mobility again as in WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE!!!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEAAAHHHH!”

 

The crowd for some ungodly reason cheers as “Teethgrinder” continues to play. First man through the curtain is Chris Card who points menacingly at King and Maddix. Next through the curtain is the man himself…TORU!

 

“Hailing from Saitama Prefecture, Japan…TORU Takahara!!”

 

The Japanese Hammer strides to the ring as Spike in a dangling position begins to pray. Now everyone knows God hates Spike, but I guess the big guy decides to throw him a bone this time as TORU ignores the flailing straight edger. His left arm heavily wrapped TORU enters the ring striding right toward the tag team champions who back off until they are trapped against the ropes…

 

…Max and Landon stare at TORU who is all fuck the stare down as he sprints forward surprising the two with a double clothesline sending all three men over the top rope and to the floor...but only two men land.

 

“DING!!!”

 

“DING!!!

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

The Icon Max King

ENTERED: 17th

LEFT: 14th

ELIMINATED: Wes Davenport, Kevin Coyote, and Bruce Blank.

ELIMINATED BY: TORU Takahara

LEFT IN THE RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, Todd Cortez, Zyon

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

“YEEEAAHH!”

 

The crowd cheers at the first official ruling.

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

TORU Takahara

ENTERED: 19th

LEFT: 15th

ELIMINATED: The Icon Max King

ELIMINATED BY: Himself

LEFT IN THE RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins, Todd Cortez, Zyon

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

“BOOOOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd jeers the final ruling as Landon somehow hanged on to the top rope on the way down. Various replays will show that Max got hit by the damn cast around TORU’s arm while Landon was simply grazed by the Japanese Hammer’s right arm.

 

“Landon is still alive here!”

 

“Well whipity fuckin’ do.

 

“Don’t you think your going overboard with the word Fuck?

 

“I fucking don’t fucking think I’m fucking going fucking overboard with the fucking word Fuck.”

 

“Fine then. I was just wondering.” Pete couldn’t help himself.

 

“I’d kill you, but my hitman is already on it. Have fun sleeping tonight.”

 

Last years Clusterfuck winner rolls back into the ring as does Spike Jenkins…finally!

 

“TEN”

 

“NINE”

 

The final countdown begins as the whole world is buzzing about who got the last number hoping for a triumphant return or at worse Matt Myers coming in as another character. All four remaining superstars who remain in the ring try to summon what little energy they have left as the countdown continues.

 

“FIVE”

 

“FOUR”

 

“THREE”

 

“TWO”

 

“ONE!!!!!!!”

 

Time for the fun to begin as “Barroom Hero” hits the PA along with cheap shamrock confetti falling from the ceiling. Somewhere in the audience is an Irish individual who just loved to drink.

 

“OI…OI…OI…OIOIOIOIOIOIOI!!!”

 

The crowd chants like mad as the man finally leaps over the safety barrier from the east side of the Staples Center.

 

“Hailing from Limerick, Ireland…TIM DILLON!”

 

“He’s the final entrant!!” King is slightly disappointed.

 

“Must be payback for his Petey the Penguin character.”

 

The loveable Irish kid enters the ring and goes right for Zyon the next freshest competitor in the match compared to Dillon himself that is. The man that loves to drink jabs Zyon in the face only to have the youth fire back with a forearm. Dillon takes the move in stride nailing Zyon with a knee to the gut before whipping him toward the turnbuckle. The youth relies on instincts as he leaps to the top rope before simultaneously jumping back down to the mat realizing that the top rope is a horrible place to be.

 

“Zyon would normally counter with the No Regard, but instead opts to get his feet back on the canvas.” Pete brings the psychology.

 

With Zyon open for attack Dillon carefully plunges his forearm into the back of his opponent locking him in a reverse front face lock. Zyon attempts to fight out from this precarious position, but the Irishman hoists the cruiserweight champion into the air. The Unique Youth kicks his feet wildly using the momentum to float over Dillon saving himself from Blood and Whiskey elevated reverse DDT! The action quickens as Zyon lands on his feet shooting for the ropes giving Dillon his back again. This time Dillon’s overanxious behavior troubles him as Zyon launches himself off the middle rope with his Half Moon quebrada. The audience amazed with Zyon’s strategy watches as the youth lands behind Dillon rather than on him…

 

“Wicked Cutter!!” Pete prematurely spits.

 

Dillon squirms to get free, but it’s too late as the youth spins around looking to drop the final entrant with a stunner. Dillon though refuses to fall victim to the move that beat JJ Johnson for the cruiserweight title (along with interference from the world champion) shoving Zyon off into a random competitor in the match…Todd Cortez. The Urban Legend hoists Zyon into the air snapping him down with the main event Sitout Spinebuster that Cortez is so accustomed to using. Zyon’s head bounces off the mat as Cortez makes it back to his feet.

 

“CRACK!”

 

And eats a forearm for his trouble. Dillon notices that Cortez is reeling quite a lot for one simple forearm so he rolls what is given to him. The Irishman grapples Cortez taking him over with a simple yet effective arm drag…and he of course beats Cortez to his feet. Not only does he beat Cortez, but he beats him by a mile. The tenth entrant to the ‘Fuck slowly gathers himself to his feet only to eat an elbow for breakfast. For lunch and dinner the Urban Legend catches two snapping jabs.

 

“God I hate this move almost as much as anything done by Landon.”

 

Cortez staggers trying to shake off the fatigue along with the strikes he just took. Dillon “pops” the energized audience by tumbling forward in a drunken stupor before dropping Cortez with the Drunken Drag clothesline!!!

 

“YEEEEAAHHH!”

 

The crowd erupts as the happy go lucky Irishman pumps his fist gardening the response he was looking for. Hoping to put the cheering in full bloom, Dillon forces Cortez back to his feet twisting the weakened Urban Legend into a reverse face lock position. The crowd looks on noticing on the corner of their eye Spike Jenkins on his feet!!!

 

“YEAAAHHH!”

 

The crowd explodes leading to Dillon to believe that they are cheering for him.

 

“CRRRRRRRRRRACK!!”

 

Instead the Irishman finds out the hard way as Spike hurls a Yakuza kick at Dillon connecting with his face. Dillon tough as a nailgun staggers backward somehow remaining on his feet, which is just fine for the arrogant straight edger. Spike ready to add Dillon to his personal list of eliminations charges the Irishman who ducks a clothesline launching the number one entrant over the top rope with a back body drop!!!!!!!!!

 

“You know what Pete, it doesn’t surprise me at all.”

 

Due to Suicide King’s tone of voice one can tell that Spike landed on the apron. The man who hails from Hollywood reads his opponent just as Dillon wildly swings a backhand toward Spike who dodges the oncoming strike. Weak and out of ideas Spike simply shoves Dillon who turns into a now standing Cortez who lifts the final entrant into a flapjack…only to have Landon appear out of nowhere; wrapping his arm around the head of Dillon…

 

OH MY GOD…COURT MARTIAL!!!!

 

“OMGYEEEEEAAAAHHHHHHHHWHOOOO!”

 

The crowd explodes as Dillon is knocked completely out. Spike safely renters the ring as Landon beats Cortez to the prone body of Dillon easily dumping the twentieth entrant.

 

“DING!!!!!!!!!”

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Tim Dillon

ENTERED: 20th

LEFT: 16th

ELIMINATED: Nobody

ELIMINATED BY: Landon Maddix

LEFT IN THE RING: Hollywood Spike Jenkins (!), Urban Legend Todd Cortez, Landon La Cucaracha Maddix, Zyon

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

“What a final four do we have here!!!” Pete shills

 

“Look at how the ‘Fuck turned out. Every single person in the ring right now I despise with a passion. I hope these last eliminations are entertaining at least. Maybe Landon will land on his neck or something.”

 

“Or he could make history and win the whole fucking thing again.” Pete is obviously excited.

 

Zyon and Spike pause to let the Urban Legend and the Next Generation have a face to face confrontation.

 

“YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!”

 

The crowd reaction is boiling over as the ex tag team talk smack to one another forgetting whatever fatigue they were feeling. Formerly Marshal Law, Landon and Todd are certainly ready to wage war making this single greatest moment in this year’s ‘Fuck so far.

 

“URBAN LEGEND CLAP CLAP CLAP!!!”

 

The crowd has joined the side of their choosing as the former Marshal Law members prepare to explode in front of everyone one more time…

 

…But what about Zyon. What is his motive? Both Landon and Spike look to make history and Todd would be getting his second shot at Magnifico. The youth for the first time in a long time finds himself being overlooked for not being the most exciting competitor in the match. Somewhere between Zyon’s lethargic thought process rings Spike’s voice…

 

“On three…”

 

Spike need not finish the sentence since friendship alone is enough to put a period on the comment. Landon shoves Cortez…

 

“OOOOO!”

 

Cortez doesn’t take kindly to that as he shoves back.

 

“OOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd echoes again as Spike whispers…

 

“One…”

 

Landon with a look of “No you just didn’t” fires back with a disrespecting slap to his former friend’s face.

 

“SMACKKKK!!”

 

“OOOOOHHHHH!”

 

The crowd barks.

 

“Two…”

 

Spike whispers again hoping that this time his friend will come through for him. Zyon’s conscience on the other hand continues to torture him as he hears his friend’s voice once again…from the past this time.

 

“In this company, it is kill or be killed! I’ve been trying to teach you that since day one! You have to do WHATEVER it takes to win! If that means taking advantage of a situation, then so be it!”

 

Cortez looks to physically retort, but Spike shocks the former tag team by shouting a simple number.

 

“THREE…NOW!”

 

The new straight edge sensation shouts as Zyon plants his foot sprinting diagonally toward…Spike?

 

“CRACK????”

 

The youth strikes his bug eyed friend down with a clothesline sending the number one entrant over the top rope…

 

…Spike grips the top rope with two fingers…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…Before slipping falling to the floor!!!!!!!!!

 

“I can’t believe it.”

 

“Shit Pete neither can I.”

 

“DING!!!!!”

 

Cortez and Landon remained shocked as Zyon looks down on his fallen friend who has still not yet processed the fact that his SWF immortality was denied.

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Hollywood Spike Jenkins

ENTERED: 1st

LEFT: 17th

ELIMINATED: Laberinto, The Rage Jason Von Dierch, Manson, Christian Fury, and Stryke.

ELIMINATED BY: Zyon

LEFT IN THE RING: Todd Cortez, Landon La Cucaracha Maddix, Zyon

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

Misty-eyed Spike looks up at the Smarktron, as it’s made official to the Staples Center along with Jenkins who continues to be in disbelief. So much so that he actually tries to reenter the ring, but is held back…and then he SNAPS!

 

“Wha…how could…why? YOU! YOU! YOU BASTARD! HOW COULD YOU! I was so close…I WAS SO CLOSE! YOU!!”

 

Spike hysterically cries out as he is forced to the back by multiple officials and road agents leaving the final three men in the ring. Zyon looks out into the audience shell shocked at what he just did…

 

“Let’s Go Zyon!!!”

 

The crowd cheers as it becomes painfully obvious to Zyon that he is just a pawn. It becomes oh so painfully obvious to the youth that his friend with grand aspirations to make history was also pawn.

 

Landon…a pawn.

 

Cortez…a pawn.

 

Senior official Nick Soapdish slides into the ring symbolizing the beginning of the end in this years Clusterfuck…the sudden death triple threat match. The match will feature a former World Champion, a veteran prepared to make the final step, and a rookie starting to finally understand the wicked wrestling business.

 

…All pawns.

 

DING DING DING!

 

The bell sounds snapping Zyon out from his zoned out expression as Cortez and Landon begin to brawl!!

 

“YEAHHHHH!”

 

The exhausted crowd cheers as Landon with his newfound abilities lay into the tenth entrant forcing him backward into the turnbuckle. The New Generation attempts to fire into his former friend some more, but Zyon sneaks up behind Landon pulling him into a reverse waist lock. Usually Landon would be a sitting duck, but thanks to the tutelage of Jay Hawke and JJ Johnson La Cucaracha quickly performs a standing switch. Thanks to multiple head drops and losing close matches, Zyon strikes Landon away with multiple elbows that bust Landon open hard way!!!

 

“Nothing better than seeing Landon with a busted lip let me tell you.”

 

Free on Landon’s grip Zyon leaps forward kicking off the chest of Cortez performing a radical back flip just as Landon steps forward for vengeance. The audience watches in awe as Zyon brings the house down with a tremendous upside down bicycle kick that lands flush to Landon’s face. Zyon lands crouchingly on his feet staggering into a standing head scissor applied by the Urban Legend.

 

“We could be seeing the Riot Act Plus!!!” Pete shills.

 

Cortez can see his name on next month’s main event bill as he attempts his finishing maneuver, but Zyon grabs the middle rope stopping the move from coming into fruitation. Aggravated Cortez pounds on Zyon’s back forcing the youth to release his grip allowing the Urban Legend to choose a different route to the possible victory. The veteran hoists Zyon over his shoulder immediately dropping down unknowing causing Zyon’s leg to clip the top rope KILLING the Unique Youth with a BOTCHED Neckwrecker!!!

 

“OHHHHHH!”

 

The crowd echoes as Zyon’s body folds from the impact. Uncontrollable shakes corrupt the youth’s nervous system, as Cortez looks ready to cover Zyon. Landon though has a much different idea as one simple stomp changes the ‘Fuck’s entire complexion. The Urban Legend’s attention has been officially diverted as he makes it back to his feet facing his former tag team partner. Landon could care less about meaningless ex friendships as he stops Cortez dead with a thumb to the eye.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

“Different style…same Maddix.” Pete mutters.

 

Blinded Cortez tries to shake away the moisture filling his right eye as Landon delivers to SHARP kicks to the sternum of Cortez. Doubled over Cortez expects the enziguri that follows, but Landon switches it up driving Cortez into the mat head first with a DDT!!!! Landon attempts to win the match…

 

ONE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR…shoulder up.

 

“Cortez stays alive!!”

 

“I’ve never been such a Todd Cortez fan, but right now anything is better than Landon fricken Maddix two years in a row.”

 

Landon hurries to his feet just as Zyon pulls himself back to his. With Cortez out of commission, Landon the veteran of this situation charges Zyon who also sprints forward latching on to the arm of La Cucaracha whipping him into the ropes at an insane speed. Barely able to stay on his feet, the New Generation strides toward Zyon who attempts a standard hip toss…and connects! With adrenaline flowing through his veins, Zyon sprints toward the ropes leaping off of them backward with the actual Half Moon quebrada landing gut first on the KNEEEEEES of Landon!!!!!!

 

“OOOOOOHHHH!”

 

The crowd echoes as Zyon rolls toward a random turnbuckle looking for shelter clutching his stomach. Rising back to his feet and gasping for breath Zyon hurls himself to the top rope with his back facing a forwarding Landon before diving off with a corkscrew body attack that does not bold well for one individual.

 

“NO REGARD!”

 

“HA it misses. You got worked up over nothing.”

 

Zyon continues to commit career suicide crashing to the mat due to Landon’s awesome evasion techniques…he stepped to the side. Landon bends over grabbing Zyon by his sweat soaked hair, but drops the youth opting to charge a now standing Todd Cortez!! Jay and JJ would most definitely stretch Landon for these type of risky actions, but he did it himself last year…

 

…And this year he takes a boot to the gut. Cortez takes a deep breath as he locks Landon down with a standing head scissor. Cortez looks prominent for the number one contender role, but Zyon makes it back to his feet. The Urban Legend waits as Zyon leaps toward the veteran with a Shining Wizard looking to make the Landon perfected move the key move two years running. Cortez shows off his superb training by ducking his head tossing Zyon’s body over the ropes!!!!! Landon uses this distraction of all distractions to pull out taking Cortez down with an arm bar before transitioning to the DRAGON CLUTCH OH MY GAWD!!!!!!

 

“Please don’t tap!!”

 

The chant is a bit different this year, but Landon just like last year tenaciously tears at the neck of his victim.

 

“Damnit…it’s just a matter of time now.”

 

Suicide King has lost all hope, as the Landon two peet seems inventible.

 

“CRRRRRRAAAAAAACKKKKKK!!!”

 

“WHA?” Both announcers are shocked.

 

Shocked to see Zyon spring board into the ring with a…you guessed it Shining Wizard that lands flush to the face of Landon. The move that gave Landon the victory last year may have just sealed his fate as Cortez rolls away from the action damn near unconscious from the unbearable submission. The impact from the move gives Zyon a slight limp as he hops toward the turnbuckle…ascending it. Landon can only look up at the bright lights as the youth performs a leap of fate…falling to the ground with the destructive FINAL FLASH…

 

“Please god…”

 

 

…THAT CONNECTS!!!

 

 

“….”

 

The arena goes silent as Zyon falls backward on the reigning Clusterfuck champion…

 

ONE!!!

 

Cortez hears the first count.

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

Landon is motionless as Cortez crawls toward the pinfall…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!…break up!…TOO LATE!!!!!!!!!

 

“HE GOT HIM!!! BY GOD ZYON JUST WON CLUSTERFUCK 2006!!!!!”

 

Just like last year Suicide King remains silent as “Vitamin” hits the PA for the second time tonight.

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Landon La Cucaracha Maddix

ENTERED: 15th

LEFT: 18th

ELIMINATED: Ghost Machine V.2.0, Wes Davenport, Kevin Coyote, Bruce Blank

ELIMINATED BY: Zyon

LEFT IN THE RING: N/A

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

The crowd is in a massive uproar as Zyon squanders to his feet when it is made painfully official to nineteen other competitors.

 

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN…THE WINNER OF THE 2006 CLUSTERFUCK…THE UNIQUE YOUTH…ZZZZZZYYYYOOOONNNNNN!!!!!”

 

Funyon booms damn near losing his voice.

 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

The Urban Legend Todd Cortez

ENTERED: 10th

LEFT: N/A

ELIMINATED: Christian Fury and Stryke

ELIMINATED BY: N/A

LEFT IN THE RING: N/A

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

Todd Cortez fatigues and beaten makes a silent exit leaving the rookie to have his time in the sun.

 

“Urban Legend CLAP CLA CLAP!!!”

 

The crowd really does appreciate Cortez. Landon also exits the ring, and receives applause as well as all the attention, cheering, and applauding turns toward the last remaining man in the ring.

 

“Could we be seeing Zyon vs. Mags or could we see another classic with JJ Johnson. Stay tuned to fine out…god listen to this reaction.”

 

“Figures…” King can only mutter.

 

The crowd is absolutely ballistic, as the once faltering youth seems to have his train back on track. After all…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...HE'S GOIN' TO FROM THE FIRE, BABY!! (credit Landon who credited Grappler)

[JJ Johnson 0]

It’s a shock everybody’s alive inside the STAPLES Center as we roll into the main event. Be it via trampling from riotous celebration, blunt force trauma from being unfortunate enough to be in the path of objects that would otherwise have gone into the ring, or asphyxiation due to the high amount of tension (and, being in Los Angeles, smog) infecting the arena’s oxygen supply, surely somebody must have kicked the bucket by now. But if any amongst the 18,997 Angelenos have fallen, the noise level has not shrunk a bit, and it certainly shows no sign of doing so as the Smarktron, recently showing the events of the Clusterfuck, kicks back into life and flashes up the most anticipated graphic of the new year, featuring the two men that form the aforementioned object of anticipation.

 

On one side is a man new to the main event scene, but, being the longest-reigning Cruiserweight Champion of all time, certainly not new to high-profile matches. He wears a track jacket, he wears a scowl, and he wears what looks like a week’s worth of stubble surrounding his neatly trimmed goatee, giving him the dual appearance of somebody you’d find on the street and somebody you’d find at the bar of the nightclub the guy you found on the street just got kicked out of. Add slicked-back black hair, beaucoup tattoos, and a shitload of anger to vent, and you’ve just perfected the recipe for the challenger. In the case of this concoction, serves 0.

 

 

THE CHALLENGER

JJ JOHNSON

 

 

“YEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!”

 

 

On the other side is a man that has been in more PPV main events than he can count on two hands, has been in more high-profile matches than his opponent has years alive, and is the longest-reigning World Heavyweight Champion of not only 2006, but 2005 and 2003, as well as the longest-reigning in history. He wears an arrogant sneer, he wears zero facial hair, and the most attire he has apparent in the camera shot displayed on the screen is his omnipresent Mexican flag, giving him the dual appearance of a guy you wouldn’t want to run into in a dark alley and the most prolific World Champion in the history of the SWF.

 

SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION

EL LUCHADORE MAGNIFICO

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

 

The boos for the champion are not as loud as they could be; the high percentage of loyal Hispanics in the arena prevents a deluge of jeers overcoming any sound the SWF system could make, but make no mistake. The hate is still there. And then four more words flash up on the screen...

 

 

WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH

 

“YEEAAAAHHH!!”

 

 

...and the collective mood of the STAPLES CENTER immediately swings upward, the two men on the screen freezing into place and the camera panning from their digital forms, across the crowd (revealing such signs as “SUJETE JOHNSON HACIA ABAJO,” “ELBOW A TOOTH MY WAY,” and “I SWAM 100 YARDS FOR THIS?!”), and, as the INS immediately swarm to that section of the audience, over to the announce table that houses the best commentary team in the “bid’ness”, as the play-by-play man might say.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Clusterfuck has gone by, the tag titles have been decided, and now, it is time to get down to bid’ness,” says Pete - told you - once the camera is focused on he and his partner, “with a match, fueled by...we’ll say ‘distaste’, that is 43 days in the making.”

 

“Indeed, Pete,” says King, “and the events leading up to this match have certainly had their ups and downs.”

 

“They sure have, King,” agrees the Longdogger. “Why don’t you go over them?”

 

“Gladly,” says the Heartbreaker, “first off, an up. Magnifico pried the cruiserweight title out of Johnson’s dreadfully boring clutches. A down, by doing so he gave said title to Zyon. An up, he showed off his national pride! A down, Johnson gutted him like a fish with said national pride. An up, he almost got Johnson fir-”

 

“Wait wait wait wait,” interjects the Miami Menace, who really should have known beforehand that the Gambling Man would be anything but impartial, “I did not ask for revisionist history.”

 

“Revisionist history shmevisionist history,” says King, abusing a time-old tradition, “all of those events occurred, regardless of your opinion as to where they rank on the ‘up/down’ scale.”

 

Pete sighs. He has a point.

 

“Regardless of what has gone on in the weeks preceding tonight,” says the former leader of X Force 9, “tonight is all that matters. Johnson and Magnifico finally get it on one-on-one tonight, and no matter who wins, given recent weeks, it will be a violent affair.”

 

King takes all of that into mind, looking for something to disagree with; it’s what he does, he’s antagonistic by nature. But before he can give the words a good thinking over, and formulate a witty comeback that serves to make the Longdogger want to slap him...

 

 

...the lights drop out.

 

 

 

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

 

The roof of the STAPLES Center proceeds to fly straight off of the building, sail upwards through several layers of pollution, lose it’s momentum and come crashing down to the raucous arena as the first two notes of LA’s own Fear Factory’s “Scapegoat” blast out of the sound system, the lights flashing red-and-white in time with the grinding industrial tones. The notes hit once more, the lights flash again, and the Smarktron rumbles to life, showing highlights from Johnson’s various matches; dropping Zyon on his head with the Avalanche Dragon Suplex, shoving his boot through Manson’s face with a springboard Shining Black, and spiraling through he sky to hit Air Canada on none other than El Luchadore Magnifico. The beats hit a third time, the lights fade up to red, and smoke begins billowing out of the entranceway as the tempo kicks up. The intro reaches a climax...

 

 

RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!

 

 

...and that climax is shortly followed by the battle cry of Burton C. Bell! The lights begin flashing full-time now, doing their best to highlight the smoke - or more specifically, the person in it, striding through the thick clouds to reach the vision of the crowd, one that no normal person lacking earplugs would dare do right now. But as we’ve seen in the past, Johnson is anything but a normal person.

 

 

”YYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!”

 

 

The roof flies off again as Johnson emerges from the cloud, his slicked back hair catching the light from his entrance as he makes his way down the ramp, completely oblivious to the 19,000 screaming fans surrounding him. He’s never been one for playing to the fans. He has always, however, been one for kicking ass, and if things go his way tonight, he’ll kick ass and walk away with some gold.

 

“142 days as Cruiserweight Champion, 16 days as Hardcore Champion, and an unprecedented 9-match winning streak to finish out 2005,” begins Pete, “are what people are thinking about JJ Johnson right now. He has not accomplished as much as Magnifico - nobody has accomplished as much as Magnifico - but some would say he’s well on his way.”

 

“And some would say he’s going to lose, lose embarassingly,” says the Heartbreaker, “and then Magnifico will dust his hands off and move on to put his title of ‘Greatest World Champion Ever’ even further out of reach.”

 

“For the last time, King, ‘some’ is not an acceptable substitute for ‘I’,” sighs Pete as Johnson jogs up the steps, just out of reach of the fans mobbing at the rail to get so much as a touch of the number one contender. The Canadian steps through the ropes and immediately jogs to the corner, throwing his arms wide in a gesture that, two months ago, would have been met with boos. But not now, not with the opponent Johnson has. The Ultimate Fighter hops down from the second rope and puts his back to the corner, turning his head towards the entrance and staring. It’s time.

 

 

 

“HEY HEY!”

 

 

*BOOOM!*

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

“See, Pete, now this is where the smart money is,” says King, pointing towards the entranceway, “on the man that has a win over Johnson, something Johnson cannot say he has over Magnifico.”

 

And so, minus the pyrotechnics and jeering audience, goes the intro to Atake FDD’s “Tu Final”, the bouncing reggaeton beats thumping out of the speakers and creating a sense of uneasiness throughout the arena. Then the curtain parts, and the first thing everyone sees is a gold belt coming through the entranceway, followed by the waist it’s attached to, and bringing up the rear, the infamous Mexican flag. Some of the crowd cheers for El Luchadore Magnifico, seeing as, dickhead or not, he’s 50% of the SWF’s Hispanic representatives, but for the most part, jeers are the only things headed his way. And he’s loving every minute of it as he bobs his head to the bass, his ever-present arrogant smirk not quite reaching his eyes as he rests his flag against the guardrail before walking up the steps and into the ring, being very sure to keep at least one eye on Johnson. Johnson, for his part, looks impassive, but everybody - Magnifico especially - knows that can change in an instant. Magnifico gets settled in his corner as the massive Oregonian that is SWF ring announcer Funyon slides into the ring before popping to his feet and bringing the microphone to his mouth.

 

 

“Llllllllllllladies and gentlemen the following contest is your MAIN EVENT, scheduled for ONE FALL, and it is for the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation Heavyweight Championship of the World!”

 

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

 

 

Funyon smiles; he always enjoys fan enthusiasm. Then it’s back to business, and the microphone is once more raised.

 

 

“Introducing first, on my left, the challenger. In the red shorts with the white trim, he stands six feet, one inch tall and he weighs in tonight at 219 pounds. From Windsor, Ontario, Canada...THIS! IS J! J! JOOOOHHNNNSOOOOONNN!!!”

 

 

“YEEEEEEEAAAAAHHH!!”

 

Johnson throws his fist up, as is the MMA tradition, then immediately unzips his jacket and hurls it carelessly to the outside, where Gus has to grapple with a fan in order to get it and take it to the back. Funyon then turns his head to the other side of the ring, and the cheers die down considerably, as well they should.

 

 

“And his opponent, on my right. In the black tights, with the red trim, he stands five feet, eleven inches tall, and weighs in tonight at 210 pounds. Hailing from Mexico City in el Distrito Federal de Mexico” - this is met with cheers - “he is your reigning AND DEFENDING SWF HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD...EL LUCHADOOOORREE...MAAAGNIIIFFIIIIICOOOOO!!!”

 

 

Magnifico points to the flag resting on the outside, prompting a few cheers, before stripping the belt off of his waist and handing it to referee Matthew Kivell, who raises it high and shows it to all sides of the arena before beckoning both athletes to the center.

 

 

“Alright, guys,” begins Kivell, “you know the rules. No foreign objects, no closed fists, no hitting below the belt, and no hair-pulling. Here’s to a clean fight, and best of luck to both of you. Now shake hands.”

 

 

Johnson and Magnifico consider Kivell’s command, and then simultaneously turn their backs on each other and head back to their corners, at which point Kivell shakes his head - they never shake hands - before handing the belt to timekeeper David Blazenwing and ordering that he ring the bell to begin the match.

 

 

DING DING DING!

 

 

 

“And away we go!” cries Pete, fully expecting a rush of action, a flurry of elbows, and lots of swearing to start the much-anticipated encounter. The crowd is also buzzing, a humming reverberating around the STAPLES Center as if somebody took a beehive, shook it, and threw it in the nearest trash can – this is a big deal.

 

 

 

And Magnifico and Johnson, to look at their face, seem to not care in the slightest. Magnifico has his usual cocky sneer, doing his best to get inside the challenger’s head before a blow is struck. Johnson also has his usual facial expression, that being the “Make one wrong move, and I gut you like a fish” scowl that he has made famous since October. Neither man moves.

 

 

 

“Bravo, Magnifico!” applauds King, clapping politely, nodding in approval, and ignoring the mouth-agape stare that he’s receiving from his announce partner for encouraging Magnifico’s motionlessness, “Don’t let Johnson try and intimidate you!”

 

 

 

Magnifico would love to follow the Heartbreaker’s advice; really, he would. But as he stands there, staring across the ring into the piercing hazel eyes of the Canadian, he involuntarily reaches up and rubs his fingers along the now-healed gash in his forehead, and can’t help but think that he’s gotten himself into deep trouble.

 

 

 

Across the ring, Johnson snorts before sending a rather unhygienic wad of saliva and phlegm over the top rope, then cracks his knuckles before striding to the center of the ring and doing something that nobody in the world, much less the STAPLES Center, imagined he would ever do to Magnifico.

 

 

He sticks out his hand for a handshake.

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

 

“What!?” Pete blurts out, a mixture of shock, confusion and maybe even some rage crossing his mind as the champion suspiciously – and rightfully so – inspects the show of respect that Johnson has put forth in the form of an open hand.

 

 

“Don’t be so shocked, Pete!” assures the Heartbreaker, “Johnson has simply decided to be respectful for once, and maybe not look like such a putz when Magnifico sends him packing back to Iceland or wherever he’s from.”

 

 

The Magnificent One has apparently decided that the hand is safe, and so he sticks out his own hand and approaches the Canadian, albeit still with some caution…caution that serves him well when Johnson pops his hip and sends a brutal roundhouse kick on a collision course with his skull!

 

 

*HISSSS!*

 

 

Fortunately for Magnifico, his lucha training and instincts immediately kicks in, and he rolls under the offending foot before popping back up to his feet and sending a basement dropkick straight into the side of Johnson’s knee! The leg bends at an awkward angle, and Johnson stumbles, which is all Magnifico needs to shoot in and secure an airtight front facelock! Perhaps it is not as airtight as he hoped, however, and Johnson proves so by spinning out of the hold and into a facelock of his own, which he only holds momentarily before using his free arm to hook one of Magnifico’s…

 

 

 

*BANG!*

 

 

…and rattle the spine, as well as torque the neck, of the champion with a vicious snap half-hatch suplex! ELM’s momentum, combined with his reaction to the pain, places him in a seated position, and Johnson wastes zero time in grabbing an arm and pinioning it under his own before reaching his arm around to lock on his dangerous Buffalo Sleeper hold…

 

 

…but the ever-prepared Magnifico borrows a move from Zyon and uses what room he has to get to his feet before backflipping over and serving the dual purpose of relieving the pressure on his arm and placing himself behind a surprised JJ Johnson!

 

 

“Ha!” chuckles King, “never thought you’d see Magnifico take a page out of Zyon’s book, did you, Johnson? Wait…neither did…”

 

 

But King pushes the horrible thought out of his head almost instantly, instead resorting to a cheesy and over-the-top “GOOOOOO MAGS!” that forces the Longdogger to resort to forehead-slapping and head-shaking as Magnifico, much like Zyon, uses his position and his arm’s situation to tug Johnson to his feet before tucking his head and lifting the Canadian for La Bomba Fantastica…that Johnson slips out of, ending up behind the champion only momentarily before he scoots around to the side and, wrapping his arms around ELM’s waist, bridges back and dumps the champion on his neck for both a saito suplex and the first cover of the match!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

T-But Magnifico has survived far stronger moves than a saito suplex, and even if one were able to defeat him, it would not be this early in the matchup. The landing he took – right on his shoulders – may have been unfortunate at the time, but it now proves handy as Magnifico is able to roll sideways and onto his feet, ready for anything that a rising Johnson throws at him…that is, if Johnson can get through what Magnifico throws at him, a theory ELM tests by thrusting his foot straight towards the Canadian’s jaw with a super kick!

 

 

*THWAP!*

 

 

The champion curses his poor hypothetical timing as Johnson immediately puts both of his hands into the path of the kick, securing a firm hold on the boot that recently tried to separate jaw from skull. Magnifico hops in place for a moment, but finally gets some relief when the Canadian nonchalantly tosses his boot away. The champion grins at his luck as he continues his momentum, spinning on the spot before taking a page out of the Book of Fasaki and driving his foot into Johnson’s face with a surprise Dragon Whip!

 

 

Which would have been far more effective had Johnson’s face been in the path of his boot. As the situation stands now, Johnson saw the kick coming and ducked, and now Magnifico looks a tad foolish as he is unable to stop his momentum and finishes another full rotation…

 

 

 

*CA-RAAACK!*

 

 

…before Johnson stops his momentum for him by completing a rotation of his own and blasting Magnifico with a rolling elbow smash!

 

 

 

“YYEEEEAAAAAAAAHHH!!”

 

 

The Los Angeles crowd explodes as the champion drops on the spot, his eyes glazing over slightly after taking Johnson’s signature strike right into his forehead. Knowing that if it got a win over TORU Takahara, the rolling elbow can do the same here, Johnson drops down and hooks a leg as Matthew Kivell follows suit before beginning his count!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

T-But much like the saito suplex, it’s way too early for a rolling elbow to put the champ away; indeed, Johnson’s win over Takahara came after the Japanese Hammer had already absorbed 2 3/4 falls worth of wrestling. A fact King chooses to ignore.

 

 

“Look at that!” lauds the King of Hearts as Magnifico fires his shoulder off of the canvas, a disappointed sigh rising from the mass of Angelenos in the seats. “That strike put TORU away with one good shot! Magnifico takes one head on, and barely even stays down for one. Good show, Mags, good show!”

 

 

“King, you do know that-“ begins Pete.

 

 

“Hush,” King says quickly, before the Miami Menace can get anything else out and make him look both silly and historically inaccurate.

 

 

In the ring, meanwhile, Magnifico has wasted no time in rolling to the ropes, where he pulls himself up to save energy. Johnson, on the other hand, merely kips up, eliciting a cheer from the packed STAPLES Center. Magnifico, on the other hand, is not as easily amused, and he charges towards Johnson…only for the Canadian to throw an elbow smash!

 

 

But that’s what the champion was banking on, and the Magnificent One slides under the blow and between Johnson’s legs before hopping up to his feet, reaching back, and hooking the Canadian for a backslide! The crowd takes a collective breath, but they have no need to fear for their hero’s safety as Magnifico takes Johnson and slides him onto his shoulders with a normal backslide pin; he’ll worry about the Baja California Crusher later.

 

 

ONE!

 

T-But not even catching Johnson by surprise is enough to keep him down for more than one on ELM’s first pin of the match! As a matter of fact, the Canadian’s manner of kicking out manages to keep him on the offensive as he simply continues the momentum he got from the backslide and rolls through onto his feet, where he drops down onto a kneeling Magnifico and attempts to hook on his Anaconda Choke!

 

 

“YEEEEEEAAAAAAHHH!!”

 

 

Magnifico is proving finicky, though, and so Johnson does what he has to do, propping himself up on his own hands…

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

…before tumbling back down to the mat and driving his knee into Magnifico’s skull! The champion flinches, but he knows not to cover his head – to do so would be to sacrifice his sturdy base, and to sacrifice his sturdy base would be to sacrifice his title. Undeterred by the champion’s resiliency, the Windsor native simply props himself up once more…

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

…and sends another knee crashing back to Earth with him, once more pulverizing the cranium of the World Heavyweight Champion.

 

 

“See, now this is what makes the Anaconda Choke so intriguing,” begins Pete, shifting into analysis mode, “is that if the opponent isn’t cooperating at first, you’re in a position where you can rain blows on them until they do cooperate. And while it may not look – or sound – like it, those knees do NOT take a lot of energy, and Johnson could conceivably rain them on Magnifico all night.”

 

 

“If Johnson gets the chance,” scoffs King. “I think it’s safe to say that El Luchadore Magnifico is a far superior wrestler to that lowly Manson, and will surely find a way out of this primitive and easily-outmaneuvered situation that Johnson ‘has’ him in.”

 

 

“That lowly Manson?” asks the Miami Menace.

 

 

“Yes, that lowly Manson. He heard me,” says King firmly. “What’s he going to do, melt my head with laser vision?” King chuckles at this. “What an absurd concept!”

 

 

Johnson raises himself up for another knee. Perhaps not so coincidentally, it is around this time that Magnifico gets really tired of getting kneed in the head and makes his move, rolling to the left as fast as his hips can take him and ironically using Johnson’s kneeing to take the Canadian’s base out from under him. Magnifico shoves himself to his feet at about the same time Johnson does a most unfortunate faceplant, and the champion wastes no time sprinting to the opposite ropes before bouncing back…

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

 

…and sending Johnson under the bottom rope and off the apron with a baseball slide! Only one-half of his plan comes to pass, however, as the Canadian is able to shove aside rib pain just in time to come to his senses and plant his feet on the ground, preventing a second painful faceplant in as many 10-second intervals.

 

 

“Damn!” says King, cursing at Johnson’s agility. “If not for that ragamuffin’s speed, he would have landed on his face and Magnifico would be free to have his way with him, as he would no doubt be unconscious.”

 

 

“Ragamuffin?” ponders the Longdogger as he checks for the King of Hearts’ hidden thesaurus. ELM, meanwhile, steps out onto the apron and continues his assault on Johnson by coming off of the ledge and planting both of his feet in Johnson’s chest with a missile dropkick! The Canadian goes staggering backwards, and Magnifico shows some agility of his own by landing deftly on his feet….before rushing forward to attempt to beat Johnson at his own game by cracking him with an elbow smash!

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

Johnson does not fall, instead stumbling even further and cracking the back of his head on the ring post. Whereas a normal man would sink to the floor, grabbing at their skull and crying, Johnson somehow manages to use the steel to give himself some momentum, which he promptly uses to put some heat on his shotgun lariat!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

*WHIFF!*

 

 

As Johnson’s lariat goes sailing over the head of the Heavyweight Champion, Matthew Kivell begins counting the two out, albeit with a bit of trepidation – one never wants a World Title match to end on a countout if they can. Neither competitor pays any attention to the count at this point, and El Luchadore Magnifico thrusts his foot out just in time to catch a turning Johnson with a superkick!

 

 

 

*THWAP!*

 

 

But Johnson does some superkick catching of his own, and refrains from spinning Magnifico around and opening himself up for another Dragon Whip attempt. Instead, he simply throws the boot to the ground, doubling himself over in the process…and Magnifico rushes forward, hooks both arms of the challenger, and lifts him up for a Cancun Crunch…that never has a prayer of connecting as Johnson continues the momentum he gains from the lift…and ends up behind the World Champion, which he takes advantage of by spinning…

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

…and blasting El Luchadore Magnifico with an enzui-rolling elbow!

 

 

“Villainy!” cries the Heartbreaker as the champion tumbles forward, managing to stop himself before he falls to the ground and becomes somewhat easy prey for the predator that is JJ Johnson.

 

“What villainy?” inquires the Longdogger. “Elbows are perfectly legal.”

 

“Well, we need to find some way to ban them,” pouts King as Johnson follows up on his elbow to the back of the head…with an elbow to the front of the head, this one succeeding in it’s intended function of dropping Magnifico to the thin mats that cover far less thin concrete!

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

With the champeen down for now, Johnson swiftly shoos a fan out of his seat before reaching into the crowd and grabbing the recently vacated chair, lifting it high for the STAPLES Center to see.

 

 

“YYEEAAAAAAAHHH!”

 

 

“What are these nimrods cheering about?” asks King, incredulous at the reaction. “Are they WANTING Johnson to get himself disqualified?

 

“I don’t think Johnson’s going to hit him with it, Brian,” says Pete, although he looks unsure.

 

Fortunately, both the fans and the Longdogger’s fears are assuaged as Johnson unfolds the chair and sits it right next to the guard rail before grabbing Magnifico and tugging him to his feet…

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

 

“WHOOOO!”

 

 

 

…and having his chest lashed with a brutal knife-edge chop! Johnson winces, then his face returns to its usual stoic scowl…

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

…followed shortly by Johnson’s elbow returning to Magnifico’s chin! The champ stumbles backwards and ends up falling right into the chair, in a seated position…

 

 

*THWACK!*

 

 

 

…before slumping forwards, courtesy of a brutal roundhouse kick to the side of the head! With his opponent set, Johnson jogs down the ringside area, ending up about 15 feet away from the champion before turning to face Magnifico…and raising his hands into the air, beginning to clap!

 

 

“Oh, Jesus,” King catches on immediately. “Not this bullshit again. I thought that was a one-time deal.”

 

 

“FOUR!”

 

 

But much to King’s chagrin, it is not. Johnson has brought it back, and the crowd catches on immediately, the audience clapping their hands and singing out in unison as Johnson cracks his neck…

 

 

“O-LEEEEEEEEE, OLE OLE OLE! OLEE! OLEEE!”

 

 

…before charging the 15 feet between he and the champion and driving his boot into Magnifico’s skull, and Magnifico’s skull into the guardrail with an Ole kick!

 

 

*CRACKCLANG!!*

 

 

“YYEEEEEAAAAAAHHH!!!”

 

 

“FOUL! PENALTY! CHEATER!” screams King, leaping to his feet as Magnifico slumps rather uselessly off of the chair, his head no doubt traumatized by being caught between a boot and a steel place.

 

 

“King, Johnson did not break any rules with that,” sighs Pete, “and you know it. He didn’t hit him with the chair, and there are no rules against conveniencing your opponent by offering him a seat.”

 

 

“What about the rule against inconveniencing your opponent by crushing their skull against the guardrail,” grumbles the Heartbreaker as Johnson drags El Luchadore to his feet via hair-pulling, something the ref again lets slide.

 

 

“WHAT ABOUT THAT?!” cries the Gambling Man, pointing an accusing finger at the Ultimate Fighter, who replies with a finger of his own before rolling the limp champion into the ring, sliding in after him, and making the cover!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

T-Magnifico defies blunt force trauma, rocketing his shoulder off of the mat and keeping his record-breaking drive alive as Johnson shakes his head; whether with exasperation or amusement, we may never know.

 

 

Regardless of that, Johnson hops to his feet and reaches down to grab the champ and tug him off of the mat…

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

…but Magnifico, who by now is pretty fucking tired of the Canadian pulling his hair, brings his foot up and delivers a laying enzuigiri that sends the challenger stumbling, giving Magnifico more than enough breathing room to roll to his feet and prepare for his next course of action…a course of action that he gets far less time to prepare for as Johnson comes charging forward with a shotgun lariat!

 

 

*WHIFFF!*

 

 

And the ever-slippery champion ducks, sending Johnson trundling past him! The Canadian recovers quickly, however, and turns around to face Magnifico.

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

 

“BOOOOOO!!”

 

 

…’s boot, the World Champion driving the sole of his footwear into Johnson’s jaw with a superkick! To his credit, Johnson stands tall, a hand clamped on his mouth and a slightly dazed look – and the echo still ringing around the STAPLES Center – the only signs that anything has really happened to him…a situation that Magnifico remedies with a boot to the stomach, a hook of two arms, a lift…and a double-armed brainbuster that compresses the Canadian’s spine and sends him spasming to the mat!

 

 

“Cancun Crunch!” glees King as Magnifico slides over, and hooks a leg, looking to capitalize on his devastating double-armed brainbuster!

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

TH-NO! Johnson survives, kicking out forcefully and rolling onto his front to prevent a possibly crucial second cover as the crowd wipes the sweat off of their collective brow. Magnifico, on the other hand, is slightly peeved, but he pushes the semi-frustration out of his head and traps Johnson’s leg before reaching up, looking for his Sangria Stretch…

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

…and, ONCE AGAIN, eats an elbow to the face courtesy of the challenger! Magnifico sits straight up, completely ignoring the throbbing area on his head, and a mask of unspeakable rage crosses his face.

 

 

“That can’t be good…” notes King.

 

 

And with no further ado, Magnifico rolls Johnson onto his back, mounts him, and begins screaming, throwing a slap with each syllable!

 

 

 

 

“NO!”

 

*SLAP!*

 

“MORE!”

 

*SLAP!*

 

“GOD!”

 

*SLAP!*

 

“DAMN!”

 

*SLAP!*

 

“EL!”

 

*SLAP!*

 

“BOWS!”

 

*SLAP!*

 

 

 

“…wow,” says King, as the entire STAPLES Center slowly goes from raucous to murmuring, staring at the obviously unstable champion in the center of the ring, one who immediately dismounts the challenger and begins walking around the ring, breathing heavily and looking both mighty pleased and might pissed.

 

 

“That…that can’t be a good idea,” notes Pete as the STAPLES Center continues murmuring, then goes from their mumbling to a chant. One that has become somewhat familiar to Magnifico in recent weeks.

 

 

 

 

“JOHNSON’S GONNA KILL YOU…”

 

 

 

Magnifico’s head snaps to attention, the look of rage on his face only worsening. The combined sing-songy voice of 19,000 fans, chanting something for his opponent, something that could come true…with emphasis on could.

 

 

 

“JOHNSON’S GONNA KILL YOU…”

 

 

 

After all, Magnifico figures, he’s beaten opponents superior to Johnson. He’s beaten Tom Flesher; he’s beaten Chris Wilson; he’s beaten Danny Williams. All of them, legends in their own right, and Magnifico has sent them all packing.

 

 

 

“JOHNSON’S GONNA KILL YOU…”

 

 

 

But Magnifico is forgetting one crucial detail; one thing he didn’t do against Flesher, he didn’t do against Wilson, and he didn’t do against Williams.

 

 

 

“JOHNSON’S GONNA KILL YOU…”

 

 

 

Against those three, he didn’t let his guard down.

 

 

 

“JOHNSON’S GONNA KIYYYEEEEEAAAAAAHHHH!!!!”

 

 

 

Magnifico immediately whirls on the spot just in time to see Johnson land on his feet after a kip-up! For a moment, hair covers the Canadian’s face, but then the Ultimate Fighter whips his slightly curly locks back, and El Luchadore Magnifico looks into the eyes of his opponent; earlier, having done this, he’d seen a man bent on defeating him and taking his title.

 

 

Now, he sees a man hell-bent on tearing him limb from limb.

 

 

Magnifico keeps looking into Johnson’s eyes…before the Canadian ducks his head and brings ELM up…

 

 

 

*BA-BOOOM!!!*

 

 

 

“YYYEEEEEAAAAAAHHH!!!”

 

 

 

…before bringing him down with the mother of all double-leg takedowns! The back of the Mexican’s head ricochets off of the canvas, but he still has the good sense to roll onto his side and away from his back, so that he can’t be pinned. This does not, mind you, stop Johnson from mounting him anyway and smashing the champion’s face in with a brutal flurry of right hooks!

 

 

*BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!*

*BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!*

 

 

“Dear GOD!” shouts Pete as the Canadian continues dropping bombs on a seemingly helpless champion, “look at that punching speed! Somebody has to stop this, or Johnson’s going to be the first man to win an SWF match with a punch!”

 

 

“Ahem,” coughs King, “Zenon-Kibagami.”

 

 

*BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!*

*BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!*

*BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!*

 

 

Pete is not the only who realizes that the brutality really needs to stop, as Kivell decides the match isn’t going to go anywhere if it’s just Johnson punching Magnifico – that, and he has his orders to keep the champion safe. And so, Kivell runs and bounces off of the ropes before coming back and, using all of his – admittedly small – body weight, throws himself into the Canadian, tackling him off of the battered champion!

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

 

Johnson is thrown clear of the champion…and wastes no time in lunging back towards Magnifico, throwing what amounts to a 25th right hook!

 

 

*BANG!*

 

 

However, Magnifico has absolutely zero willingness to sit there and get punched in the face some more, and it is the work of a moment for him to roll out of the path of the blow. For that matter, roll out of the ring entirely. As Magnifico recoups on the floor, his face is in plain view for the first time since Johnson began his 24-“gun” salute.

 

 

“Sweet merciful zombie Christ!” cries Pete as he looks as the bruised and bloody face of the World Heavyweight Champion.

 

 

“Dammit, Johnson!” snarls King, noticeably trying to look away from Magnifico’s mangled features. He really can’t, though; it looks like a car wreck. “Why do you always have to pummel the meal ticket?”

 

 

Pete ignores mentioning how a few weeks ago, Johnson was the meal ticket…especially since said competitor rises to his feet, charges to the opposite side of the ring, and then sprints back, building up a 20-foot head of steam before sending himself, via his usual means of elbow suicida, through the ropes and to the outside of the ring!

 

 

And in the split second that Johnson has before impact, he looks ahead and sees El Luchadore Magnifico…dive away. And as Curry Man and Exploding Chicken see the 219-pound projectile cruising through the air to their announce table, they only have time for one thought.

 

 

Oh, mierda.

 

 

 

*CA-RAAAASSSHHH!!!*

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

 

 

Fortunately, Johnson has the reaction time to tuck and roll in mid-air, to prevent heading face-first into said table; less fortunately, this sends him careening back-first into the edge of the announce position forcefully enough to collapse the table right into the laps of the Spicy One and the…well, the Exploding One.

 

 

 

“Sweet merciful zombie Christ II, Electric Boogaloo!” shrieks Pete, King getting a horrified look in his eyes – not so much for the spine-wrenching scene in front of him as for Pete bringing back awful, suppressed memories of the Breakin’ series.

 

 

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

 

The crowd catches on, after their initial reaction, to what sort of spot it is; on the opposite end of the apparent fan-referee spectrum, Matthew Kivell begins counting-out the crumpled heap formerly known as JJ Johnson as Magnifico looks on, a relieved look swiftly turning into a malicious grin. And in the shattered remains of the announce table, the shattered remains of JJ Johnson don’t even twitch.

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

The champion moves in, not being cautious as he was earlier; in fact, he’s almost nonchalant, with the slightest hint of a bounce in his step as he strides over to the motionless challenger. For somebody who recently received impromptu plastic surgery, Magnifico is in a surprisingly good mood.

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

“Well,” says King, pushing himself back from the announce table and beginning to rise out of his seat, “I’m going to leave now and beat the rush. Traffic’s a bitch in LA, you know.”

 

“Sit down!” scolds the Longdogger, “it’s not over until they ring the bell.”

 

“Or,” counters King, “until one of the competitors stupidly costs himself the match by shattering his spine on the announce table. OH HEY, LOOKY THERE! Gotta go!”

 

 

“FOUR!”

 

 

Magnifico reaches down and – drawing great deals of enjoyment from this – snatches up a large chunk of Johnson’s hair before using it to tug the challenger to his feet, where he sways and wobbles, but – thanks in large part to support from Magnifico – doesn’t fall. The Mexican grins again – actually, he never really stopped grinning – then takes his battered opponent and, with all the care of a discus hurler, sends Johnson into the ring before rolling in himself. Johnson’s momentum carries him onto his back, and Magnifico forgoes a traditional cover to simply place a boot on Johnson’s heaving chest…which causes the Canadian to suddenly snap into animation, grabbing the leg of the champion and dragging him over before transitioning into a toehold, reaching up for an STF…

 

 

 

 

…and grabbing his back after the sudden effort, causing the fans to sigh in disappointment as Magnifico wriggles free.

 

 

“Johnson was playing possum, but he misjudged his ability to capitalize!” notes Pete as Magnifico scoots around to secure a front facelock on Johnson, allowing for easy lifting.

 

 

“See? I told you the match was over. Can I go now?”

 

 

“No!”

 

 

The champion lifts the challenger to his feet before draping said challenger’s arm over his shoulder and lifting him for a suplex…but despite Johnson’s wounds, he’s still able to reverse the maneuver and float over! Unfortunately, his recycled reversal has now been thoroughly scouted by the champion, and Magnifico proves this by seizing him in a backslide before running to the ropes, stepping up the turnbuckles…

 

 

“BAJA CALIFORNIA CRUSHER!” screams King preemptively.

 

 

…and Johnson throws all of his body weight backwards, crotching the now-unfortunate champion on the top rope and saving himself from the deadly maneuver!

 

 

“VAGABOND!” cries the Heartbreaker, his mood changing from pleased to angry almost as quickly as Magnifico’s face is changing from tan to an unpleasant purple, more than slightly disgruntled about the testicular trauma the champion has received. Magnifico isn’t all that pleased about it either.

 

“Oh, please,” sighs Pete, “like Magnifico doesn’t deserve to have his balls crushed.”

 

“Yeah, that’s not racist,” deadpans the Gambling Man.

 

“But regardless,” says the Miami Menace, brushing off the King of Hearts’ accusation, “this is an important thing to note: Johnson has reversed the Baja California Crusher, a move that has undoubtedly been a crucial part of his previous defenses; namely, the deciding factor. Does Magnifico have another move that he can use to defeat Johnson?”

 

 

As King coughs, sounding suspiciously like “Dia de los Muertos”, Johnson turns and climbs up to the second rope, where he tucks his head under the arm of the World Heavyweight Champion before lifting…

 

 

 

…and once again grabbing at his back, unable in his current state to get any sort of leverage on the champion!

 

“See, now THIS,” says King, pointing at the wincing challenger, “THIS is an important thing to note. How is Johnson supposed to win if he can’t lift El Luchadore Magnifico? And before you cough ‘Anaconda Choke’, keep in mind that Magnifico has already proven Johnson’s ‘durr, I’ma knee you in the head’ setup ineffective, so you might as well render the Anaconda Choke void.”

 

 

Meanwhile, in the ring, Magnifico has recovered from his deferens-detrimental landing, and fires a quick back kick into the stomach of the challenger, doubling him over as he turns and places himself in a position much more handy. That being done, Magnifico dives over with his Tequila Sunrise sunset-flip powerbomb…

 

 

 

 

…but plants his knees into Johnson’s back and forgoes the powerbomb in favor of the mother of all lungblowers!!

 

 

 

*BANG!!*

 

 

“BOOOOOOOO!!”

 

 

“Ha!” laughs King as Johnson spasms uselessly off of Magnifico’s knees, slumping onto his stomach and grabbing at his back with a noticeable moan emerging from his battered body, “See, Johnson? That’s why you’re doomed; Magnifico innovates, you sit there and get your back broken. It’s not as catchy as the usual saying, but I like to think it applies here.”

 

“I guess that’s why they call him Mag-knee-f-“ begins Pete.

 

“MacDougal, if you finish that statement I will slap the taste out of your mouth.”

 

 

It is the work of a moment for an extremely cocky El Luchadore Magnifico to roll Johnson onto his back before hooking a leg and pinning his shoulders to the mat, Kivell dropping down to count what may very well be the deciding fall…

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR-NO! Johnson ignores the pain in his back and shoots his shoulder off of the mat, prompting a grunt of anger from Magnifico as the Canadian makes his best effort to scoot into the ropes. It is not to be, sadly, as Magnifico immediately scoots over and hooks on another front facelock, this one obviously meant as a controlling hold due to the fact that he’s laying flat…but Johnson slips his head out and hooks on a front facelock of his own before punching his hand through and locking his arms, rolling to the side…

 

 

 

“YYYEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

 

 

 

…but before Johnson can get the Anaconda Choke cinched in tight, Magnifico uses the momentum bestowed unto him by Johnson’s roll to continue his motion, taking himself into the ropes and preventing the dangerous hold from being sufficiently clamped on!

 

“See!” says King excitedly, pointing out the situation in the ring as Kivell orders both men to get up, “Magnifico does it again! Just when you think Johnson’s going to get that stupid glorified facelock on, the champion exposes it for what it is and gets out of it. I don’t see why Johnson keeps trying for it.”

 

“Maybe because that’s the hold that he used to make the generally unflappable Manson tap out to,” suggests the Miami Menace with an over-exaggerated shrug.

 

 

Both men reach their feet, Magnifico naturally faster than Johnson, and the champion decides that now is as good a time as any to light up the challenger with some knife-edge chops!

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

 

“WHOOOO!”

 

 

Johnson would arch an eyebrow if he were in better shape, considering that it’s an odd time of the match to start throwing knife-edge chops. But he’s not in better shape; he’s in a bad mood, and now his chest hurts.

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

So he puts a stop to the chops with a vicious elbow that catches Magnifico right in the scar formed from his flag-cutting! Sweat, as well as blood from the brutal punching earlier, go flying as Magnifico tumbles back into the ropes, which he uses to stagger forward like an arrogant boxer desperate for more…

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

…and more he receives, Johnson drawing his arm back and blasting him, again in the scarred forehead, with another elbow! More bodily fluids take to the air as Magnifico once again loses his footing and collapses into the ropes. However, this time when he bounces back, he has a move in mind.

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

 

“WHOOOOOO!”

 

Johnson’s jaw drops, but it stays down only for a moment before the Canadian spins on the spot and obliterates the Heavyweight Champion with his signature rolling elbow!

 

 

*HIISSSS!!*

 

 

Magnifico plays possum, much like Johnson did earlier, and turns around to face the Canadian JUST AS JOHNSON CONTINUES HIS SPIN AND MASSACRES HIM WITH A BRUTAL ROUNDHOUSE!!

 

 

*SMAA-AAACCCKKK!!!!*

 

 

“YYYEEEAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

Magnifico’s eyes glaze over as he collapses to the ground, the kickpad ricocheting off of his skull not a very good feeling as Johnson takes a moment to hold his back; not too long, though. Adrenaline is starting to kick in now, and he hardly feels a thing. Magnifico probably wishes he could say the same right now, but Johnson doesn’t particularly care as he drops down and hooks Magnifico’s leg.

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR-NO!!

 

 

Kivell hops up onto his knees and throws his hands skyward, two fingers raised on each as he signals the count not quite reaching match-ending quantity. Johnson’s finally got the momentum in his favor now, though, and he’s certainly not going to kill that and give Magnifico a chance to bring him down before he can get the gold. So the Canadian hops to his feet and, taking even greater enjoyment than Magnifico did, grabs the champion’s hair and tugs him to his feet before hooking him in a facelock and reaching down, looking for a Fisherman’s Suplex…but Magnifico crumples down into a small package!!

 

 

“Small package!!” cries King! “It’s what beat Johnson 6 days ago, and fittingly describes him as well!”

 

 

 

The crowd is on it’s feet with hopeful looks on their eyes, remembering the events of the previous Smarkdown, as Kivell drops for another count!

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

NO! Johnson kicks his way out of the dangerous roll-up…before using the positioning of his arms to punch one under Magnifico’s chin and lock them together, looking for another Anaconda Choke!

 

 

“YYEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”

 

 

The crowd may be getting ahead of itself, but Johnson would much rather they be correct as he rolls onto his front, Magnifico planting his arm – as is recommended – to stabilize his vertical base and prevent an easy roll into the hold! Knowing exactly how to counter this, though, Johnson draws himself up…

 

*CRACK!*

 

…and blasts Magnifico with one of several ensuing knee strikes!

 

 

“Oh, and here goes MMA McOnedimension with his goddamn knees again,” sighs King.

 

*CRACK!*

 

Johnson cannot hear King’s taunting, but it is doubtful that the Canadian would give two shits about the yammering of the Gambling Man if he could hear him. Johnson raises himself up for another knee, but the World Champion is about to get inventive, getting to his feet before flipping forward and hooking Johnson in a sickle hold…from which he drops down before rolling over and clamping his hands around the Canadian’s face, tugging backwards with his Sangria Stretch! Pain shoots down Johnson’s neck, and only then does he remember the excruciating pain his back used to be in; so, saving the match, he reaches out and grabs the nearby ropes, breaking the dangerous submission hold and causing Kivell to shoo the champion away from the challenger. Johnson rises, but Magnifico shoots in with a lariat!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THAT JOHNSON DUCKS BEFORE APPLYING A REAR WAISTLOCK AND DROPPING EL LUCHADORE MAGNIFICO ON HIS MOTHERFUCKING SKULL WITH A DANGEROUS GERMAN!!!!

 

 

 

*CRUNCH!!*

 

 

“YEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

 

 

 

The crowd leaps to it’s feet in glee as Magnifico hits the mat hard, bouncing as he skids along the canvas and finally ending up on his face with dazed look in his eye and a stinging pain rocketing down his spinal column. Johnson, on the other hand, grabs at his back some more, the effort it took to bridge so far, so quickly taking it’s toll on HIS spine.

 

 

“DANGEROUSGERMAAAAAAANN!!!” shouts Pete in what was formerly King’s job, the Heartbreaker looking mildly annoyed as the Miami Menace goes all Japanese on him.

 

 

Johnson takes a deep breath – he can hurt when he’s champion – and lunges forward, piling all of his weight on Magnifico’s shoulders and reaching out to hook a leg as Kivell drops for the count and the STAPLES Center rises as one to get a better view!

 

 

“This could be it!” cries the Longdogger.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!!

 

 

 

 

NO! NO! Magnifico survives the Dangerous German, rolling himself through and onto his stomach, where he takes heavy breaths as he waits for the numbness rolling down his spine to subside. He doesn’t get much of a chance for that, however, as Johnson is more than a little quick to grab him and drag him to his feet…but Magnifico explodes upwards, swatting the Canadian’s hands away and catching him off-guard! With a boot to the gut, Magnifico doubles the Ultimate Fighter over, then hooks a front facelock…followed by a fisherman’s suplex hold, climaxing in a lift…

 

 

 

 

…and, for possibly the first time in the match, a drop, Magnifico plunging the Canadian onto his cranium with a Barrio Buster!

 

 

*BANG!*

 

 

“BOOOOOOO!!”

 

“BARRIO BUSTER!” bellows King as Magnifico takes a turn most unusual for a fisherman’s brainbuster and bridges up for a pin!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

NO! Johnson survives this as well, rolling to his side and throwing the Mexican off-balance, preventing the champion from retaining his title; at least, for now. This does not deter the champion one bit, who swivels his hips and rolls onto his feet where he looks to go for a second Barrio Buster…but Johnson attempts to spin out of it…but Magnifico spins with him and hooks him for a backslide before running to the corner, stepping off of the buckles…

 

 

 

…and Johnson drops to his knees, spiking Magnifico onto his shoulders with a high-angle backslide!

 

 

“YYYEEAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”

 

 

King, halfway through a drink of water, immediately sends his beverage flying everywhere courtesy of the shock of seeing a move from his past busted out.

 

“I SAID HALLELUJAH!” shouts Pete, filling in what King can only stammer and sputter and swear about. “It HAS to have been inadvertent, but Johnson just busted out Edwin MacPhisto’s Encore Cross, and this could very well finish the match here!”

 

“Who the fuck said he could use that?!” is all King can manage to get out as Kivell drops, counting down the Heavyweight Champion of the World!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NNOOO!! The greatest World Champion of all time recovers from his impromptu head trauma just in time to bend his straighten his body out and hook a toe over the top strand, once again snatching himself away from the jaws of defeat!

 

 

 

“AWWWWWWW!!!”

 

 

Magnifico immediately rolls out of the ring, grabbing his neck, wincing and swearing as another mask of rage comes over his face – he knows not to slap Johnson this time, a lesson he probably should have learned from the last few times people have slapped the Canadian. For his part, Johnson is being very patient, crossing his arms and waiting for Magnifico to get his ass back in the ring, so as to continue the match.

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

“Very smart of Magnifico to take a break here, with that lunatic running loose and using underhanded tactics,” snoots King. Yes, snoots.

 

“Yes, underhanded tactics,” Pete says, rolling his eyes, “like preventing yourself from taking possibly the most effective move in the SWF today. That cheating bastard.”

 

“Sarcasm will get you nowhere, Drain-Clogger,” pouts the Heartbreaker.

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

Magnifico looks back into the ring, back at the Ultimate Fighter standing there…waiting. Just…waiting. It’s unnerving. But Magnifico does have to win this match.

 

 

And so, reluctantly, he strides back to the ring, up the steps, into the ring, walks right up to Johnson…

 

 

*WHIFF!*

 

 

…and ducks the elbow that he knows is coming before sprinting off of the ropes and coming back with a dropkick that catches Johnson high in the head!

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

“BOOOOOOOO!!”

 

Johnson staggers into the ropes, bouncing back just in time for Magnifico to wrap his arm across his chest, hook him in a chickenwing, and drop to his knees!

 

 

*BANG!*

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

“MONTEZUMA’S REVENGE!” cries King as Magnifico hops back to his feet, preparing for his next move. “That was an EXPLOSIVE jawbreaker!”

 

Pete looks nauseous at the thought of explosive Montezuma’s Revenge, but soldiers onward as Magnifico scoops Johnson up onto his shoulder…and readies him, as the crowd goes silent, for Dia de Los Muertos.

 

“Wonderful!” applauds King as Magnifico maneuvers Johnson into place for the dreaded Fire Thunder Driver. “NOW I can leave.”

 

 

But King had better not call for the valet yet. Knowing the predicament he’s in, Johnson takes advantage of Magnifico’s stop to take a rest by taking his elbow and cramming it into the World Champion’s shin! The champ doubles over, and Johnson plants his feet before turning around...so that it is Magnifico facing upward…and then around…and then around again…AND THEN MAGNIFICO HOOKS HIS ARMS FOR A BACKSLIDE BEFORE SPRINTING FORWARDS, UP THE TURNBUCKLES, AND BACKFLIPPING OFF WITH THE BAJA CALIFORNIA CRUSHER!!

 

 

Cameras go off around the STAPLES Center as fans, despite themselves, despite what’s happening to their favorite, snap pictures of the athletic move, wanting to commemorate their trip to an SWF event forever. Some make their way out of their seats, attempting to beat the rush of people leaving the event because they’re masochistic enough to watch Magnifico celebrate.

 

 

And then Johnson throws all of his body weight forward, and their outlook changes entirely.

 

 

The motion is enough to throw Magnifico’s momentum off, and send his arms loosening to where he can’t hold on, can’t keep the arms hooked, can’t complete the move.

 

 

Magnifico goes flying off of Johnson, falling and falling towards the mat, the canvas rushing up to meet him far faster than he’d like as the challenger loses his balance and falls to the mat.

 

 

And then, Magnifico joins him.

 

 

 

*BANG!*

 

 

 

The unflappable champion is bounced up to his knees by the impact, his eyes not clouded despite the recent head-drop he just took. He begins to fall forwards, and as he slumps downwards he notices Johnson has recovered from his considerably-less-painful fall and is shooting forwards…and applying the Anaconda Choke, punching his arms through and locking them together before rolling to the side!!

 

 

“YEEEEAAAAAAHHH!!”

 

 

Magnifico, however, has prepared for even this. Using his superior core muscle strength, Magnifico twists his abdomen back the other way, rolling himself onto his back with Johnson rendered nothing more than using a fancy cravate.

 

 

“Ha! See, Pete? I told you that Johnson’s hold was a stupid joke of a hold,” laughs the King of Hearts.

 

 

And then Johnson takes advantage of Magnifico’s position by releasing the hold, swinging his legs up, and scissoring them around the arm of the champion before pulling back with a juji-gatame!

 

 

“YYYEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!”

 

 

 

But Magnifico brings his other arm up and locks his hands, preventing the deadliest hold in wrestling from being locked onto him! Both men’s muscles bulge to the fullest extent, an extraordinary amount of effort going into their pulling; Johnson, using both arms and both legs to attempt and pry both the title and the left arm off of Magnifico, and Magnifico, using what must be the superhuman strength a mother gets when lifting a tree off of their child – Magnifico is just protecting his child, in this case the title, from the nasty tree that’s trying to rip his arm off.

 

 

“Yes, Magnifico! Fight it!” shouts the Gambling Man, encouraging the champion that can’t actually hear him.

 

“He better fight it,” notes Pete as he watches the struggle in the ring, “because as we’ve seen in the past, that hold ends careers.”

 

“Shush, you’ll discourage Magnifico!” scolds King as Magnifico and Johnson continue to grapple, the two men starting to quake with the effort.

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

Suddenly, Johnson brings his leg up before swatting it back down into Magnifico’s face!

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

Johnson repeats the process, and much to Magnifico’s horror, he can feel his grip slipping.

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

…slipping further…

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

…and further…

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

…until finally…

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

”YYYYYYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!”

 

 

“SHIT!” screams King before taking his headset off and throwing it against the table, resting his head in his hands.

 

And at the center of all of this attention, Magnifico’s grip has failed him, and Johnson has applied the juji-gatame full-on. The champion thrashes about, looking for a way, some way to retain his title. He can’t roll towards Johnson, the Canadian is pinning him down with his legs.

 

 

He can’t reach the ropes, they’re too far away.

 

 

And he knows now that there is only one way out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP!*

 

 

DING DING DING!

 

 

Johnson breaks the hold instantly as the STAPLES Center explodes into cheers beyond words, the noise flooding the arena like no other as Jay Hawke and Landon Maddix come jogging down the ramp, sliding into the ring in order to celebrate with their associate. And despite their presence, the fans are just as supportive of Johnson as they were at the beginning of the match. Kivell immediately goes over to David Blazenwing, who hands the twenty pounds of gold called the SWF World Heavyweight Championship over to the ref. With no further ado, the ref hands it to Jay Hawke, Johnson spreading his arms wide as confetti begins to fall from the ceiling.

 

“JJ Johnson has done it!” shouts Pete, over the sound of barely audible sobs from the Heartbreaker, “JJ Johnson has beaten the unbeatable!”

[JJ Johnson 0]

“Here is your winner,” begins Funyon with a huge grin on his face as Jay finishes strapping the belt around Johnson’s waist before both he and Landon scoop the Canadian up onto their shoulders, parading him around the ring – and still, Johnson isn’t smiling. He certainly looks amused, but he’s not full on smiling, “AND THE NNNNEEEEWWWW…SMARTMARKS WRESTLING FEDERATION HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD…J! J! JOHNSON!”

 

 

“I repeat!” shouts Pete, just to make sure people believe him by hearing it more than once, “JJ Johnson has beaten El Luchadore Magnifico! What a night! We’ll see you on Storm, everybody!”

 

 

And Johnson looks out over the STAPLES Center, slightly heavier and feeling much better for it, his arms thrown wide as he celebrates being at the pinnacle of professional wrestling. He’s so enthralled by the fanfare that he doesn’t notice when his stablemates drop their smiles, only momentarily, and look up at the belt strapped tightly around his waist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Johnson era has begun.

 

 

FADE OUT

[Guest OKCoyote]

In Blank's match, I really like how Blank incorporated my storyline into the match, with Judge coming out to force Coyote out. Though I think it may have had more shock value if Judge physically pulled Coyote away from ring. Of course, that would make Coyote look like a face, wouldn't it? Can't have that.

 

Kudos, and congrats on winning the other one.

[Bruce Blank 0]

The Coyote angle is one of the things I plotted out so that it helped advance the angle but I didn’t push it in an angle the participants didn’t want to go.

 

I intentionally kept it vague if Coyote actually did touch the floor instead of making it obvious that he either did or he didn’t. Mainly because the Coyote / Hearford stuff has been more backstage and between the two and all so I didn’t want Hearford to look like a total biased douce by kicking Coyote out if it was obvious to everyone in the arena that he didn’t touch the floor.

 

On the other hand, if it was obvious Coyote touched the floor and then complained and bitched he’s just look like any other whining heel – but there is more to him and more to the angle. I think it worked better that way.

 

And if you notice I make mention of Hearford being out at ringside even before Coyote enters, to establish his presence and not just have him suddenly appear - he had to be at ringside and actually see what was going on.

 

Btw – my favorite spot has to be the spot where Landon eliminates Todd only to be flipped over the top rope by Max. Max turns around and celebrates eliminating Landon but Landon actually landed on Cortez and his feet never touched the ground – Maddix back in the ring and the Landon/Max fight is ON!

[muzz 0]

I probably would have included Hearford somehow, but I didn't actually plan anything out, except for Matt "E. Honda Myers".

[Vasarian_Brandy 0]

Thanks to Bruce for giving me more of a chance than I probably should've had.

[Smartly Pretty 0]

Being early blows.

 

-------

 

“This” . . . Pete stops mid phrase to stare at the cage that hangs above him. “This is the end. This next match” Pete stops again, gazing at the land mines that may soon go off, should it be needed. “This next match ends 2 months of work. 2 months of sweat. And certainly 2 months of blood.”

 

“We’ve seen some crazy shit.” King adds. Maybe neutral for now, but we now ultimately he’s pulling for Blank. “Light tubes, and thumbtacks and broken glass.”

 

“And cereal” Pete adds to the hardcore vibe.

 

King gets a feed in from his ear piece “I hear that this cage will contain 500 volts of electricity.”

 

“Is that a lot?” Longdogger asks

 

Once again, getting the info from his ear piece “That is certainly a lot. The electric chair uses 2,000. That’s only 4 times more powerful than our cage.”

 

“So WCW out did us with the electricity?”

 

“That chair had a whopping 0 volts.” King didn’t get that one from his ear piece.

 

“WELL EVERY TIME I COME HOME NOBODY WANTS TO LET ME BE”

 

The Ultraviolent champion, Bruce Blank, slowly makes his way out of the curtain. Blank has been in matches in toy stores. Even invented his own match, but he’s kept his title through everything. For the first time in a while, Bruce’s ego is in check.

 

Blank walks down the ramp, undoing the buckle in the back of his Ultraviolent strap and holds it up in the air as he walks.

 

“Hey, how do you think Akira and Blank are going to react as the cage lowers?” Pete realizes that you can’t really go through the door of an electric cage.

 

“You know . . . I never really thought about it . . . I suppose they’ll wait patiently for the cage to lower . . . but who knows?”

 

Blank rolls into the ring, and takes a moment to stare at his title. Then, with a smirk of confidence, he hands Nick Soapdish his title, and turns his attention to the titantron.

 

 

“I’M ON MY WAY!”

 

Debuting his new entrance music (courtesy of The Hives), Akira Kaibatsu makes his way to the ring. Akira stops at the gate; he strokes the top of his head and then shakes up his neck. After a deep breath, Akira finally begins to walk down the Clusterfuck set.

 

“King, I know you have Blank in this match, as you have for the whole series, but remember this: Akira HAS had a Japanese deathmatch in his career!” Pete knows his wrestlers, it seems. “Remember Toshiaki Taue? Akira and he battles inside an electric cage, just like Blank and The Divine Wind will do now.”

 

“And it was Taue who won that match, and sent Kaibatsu out of Japan.” King reminds Pete.

 

Akira saunters down the ramp, taking long glances at all in attendance at the sold out Staples Center. Shaking out his wrists as he approaches the ring, Akira closes his eyes and tries to calm himself down. He’s never been in a feud like this in America.

 

The cameras switch to Mr. Kobe backstage, watching his client, trainer, and most importantly long time friend, on the monitor, with a sense of pride, win or lose.

 

Akira rolls into the ring, and begins to hop up and down, as Blank stretches his arms out.

 

 

 

CRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING

 

The cage lowers, as Funyon booms the entrances into the microphone from outside the ring.

 

“Ladies and Gentleman, the following is the 5th and deciding match of the Ultraviolent series! The rules for the match are as follows!” Funyon whips an index card out of his pocket. “Akira Kaibatsu and Bruce Blank will be trapped inside a cage. Said cage has an electric current running through it. If a winner has not been decided after 15 minutes, small power land mines will go off.”

 

“Small power maybe, but they’re still fucking Landmines” Pete drops his 2 cents, as he’s paid to do.

 

“Defending his title, from Dirty Tornado Trailer Park in Mobile Alabama . . . weighing in at 295 and standing a mean 6’7 . . . He is the Trailer park Messiah . . .. BRUUUUCE . . . . BLAAAAAAAAAAAANK!”

 

As Funyon finishes Bruces name, the cage finishes lowering, and the 2 men are officially inside of the cage.

 

“And the challenger . . . fighting at a lean 195 pounds and standing at an even 6 feet tall . . . By way of Sendai Japan he is the DIVIIIIIIIINEEEEE WIIIIND . . . . AKIRAAAAAAAA KAIIIIIIIBATSUUUUUUUUUUUU!”

 

Funyon concludes the boxing style intro, and as if in a hurry, the time keeper rings the bell, and Blank and Akira go at it.

 

Wasting no time, Akira sprints over to Blank, who wasn’t exactly ready to start. Kaibatsu nails the champ with an elbow as he runs, sending him into the corner (not touching the cage mind you. The turnbuckle appears to be safe from electricity.)

 

Akira throws knife edged chops at Blank, one after another.

 

WHOOOO!

 

 

WHOOOOO!

 

After two or three more chants from the crowd, Akira switches over the elbows. Smashing Blank in the side of the head with stiff strikes, eventually leads to Blank overpowering the puroresu, pushing him out of his way, and Blank out of the turnbuckle.

 

Akira stumbles backwards, but doesn’t quite fall down, while he is definitely unbalanced. Blank takes a quick breath. After all, he was just peppered with strong elbows and chops from a Japanese wrestler. This however was probably not the best idea, as Akira is relentless, and runs back to Bruce, jumping, rolling over his back, taking Bruce’s sunbaked Alabaman arm, and throwing it, sending Bruce flying.

 

 

ZZZZZZGGGGGHHHHTZZZZT

 

 

“Oh my god, Bruce is the first one to taste the cage!” Pete knew what the match was about, but didn’t expect it to be so . . . Ultraviolent.

 

King, reading Petes emotions like Bill Filmaff, “Pete, I don’t think ANYONE knows what we’re in for.”

 

Akira wants to just stare in awe at the man he just sent 500 volts through, but he knows he can’t do that. Akira drops to the ground where Blank is, and locks on a fujiwara armbar. Blank, feeling the pain in his arm squirms around in a circle, trying to punch Akira off his arm, like a dog chasing its tail.

 

After a full 360° spin, Akira actually backs up into the cage!

 

ZZZZZAQAAAGGGGGHHHTTTTTFFHFHGHRTHT

 

“Oh my god, I don’t know if I can take anymore electricity running through human flesh.” The longdogger secretly squeamish? “It’s almost over right? How long till the land mines explode?”

 

Looking up at the timer, King answers “13 minutes, 46 seconds”

 

“Oh my god!”

 

“43 seconds now”

 

 

Both men lie on the ground, recovering from their back wounds. This electricity is clearly top quality (thanks Panda Energy!)

 

"Do you think this is a result of hydroelectricity?" asks Pete.

 

"Yeah, because there's water in Los Angeles," sighs King.

 

 

Blank is quicker to get up than Akira, after all he’s had more time to recover from his shock. Blank lifts Akira by the mask, punching him in the gut on the way up. Bruce puts Kaibatsu in a front face lock, and wraps Akiras arm over his head. After a heavy lift, Akira lands on his back, completing a vertical suplex. Trying to end it early, he goes for a cover.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NOOO!

 

 

“My god, I know this is a death match, but you’d think electrocuting somebody would be enough to finish a match off!” Pete adds.

 

Blank, seeing Akira still down, makes a fist, and drops down, nailing Kaibatsu in the head. Getting up quickly, Blank runs over to the side rope (the cage is about a half a foot outside the ropes—he’s still able to Irish whip without electrocuting himself) and bounces back, jumping, landing on his ass, finishing a leg drop on Akira.

 

Picking him up by the mask again, Blank throws a forearm Akiras way. Bruce scoops up Akira, and lifts him in the air, attempting a Gorrilla press. Kaibatsu swipes at one of the hands supporting him in the air, however, and slides down Bruces back. Reaching over his head, Kaibatsu locks in a side headlock, and runs towards the ropes with it. Jumping onto the top rope, nearest the camera, Akira tries a move similar to that of a Stratusfaction. Blank shows his strength though, holding Akira up in the air after he jumped. Blank spins as he falls backwards, hitting a spinning back suplex. Going for a cover.

 

 

 

 

ONEE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRNOTHEREYET!

 

 

“Oh, Pete, aren’t you in for a ride. Still 11 minutes to go.”

 

You can’t see Pete on screen, but you know he’s stroking his hair, waiting for the match to end.

 

Akira and Blank slowly begin to get up. Blank is once again the quicker of the two. Seeing that Akira is on his way up, Blank runs into the ropes, adjacent to the ones near the announce table. Bruce hits the ropes, runs back, and attempts a clothesline, but Akira, who has gotten up at that point, ducks, and Blank runs through.

 

Bruce bounces off the other ropes, and on his way back, is greeted with a mean missile dropkick!

 

Both men get up instantly, followed by Akira running into Blank, and whipping him into the corner. Akira sprints into the temporarily dazed champion and throws an elbow his way. Akira reaches back, looking for a knife edged chop, but Blank sees it coming, and toe kicks Akira right in the gut. Blank traps Kaibatsu under his armpit, and hops backwards, so to sit on the turnbuckle. The Divine Wind wriggles out of the hold, with a series of strikes to the gut with his free hand, leaving Blank on the turnbuckle. Akira takes a step backwards, and then leaps for a dropkick.

 

 

 

 

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZWWWWWWWWWWQQQQQQTHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGG

 

 

 

 

“WOAH! What an electricution!” King marvels at the picture perfect dropkick.

 

The stun from the electrocution causes Blank to lean forward, and ultimately fall off the turnbuckle. Bruce lands face down, but rolls over, and lies around 6 feet from the turnbuckle. Akira wastes no time in climbing the turnbuckle, to attempt his signature flying maneuver.

 

Kaibatsu leaps to the air, tilting backwards. As he reaches the pinnacle of his jump, the cameras flash, for the Kodak moment that will surely be Akira’s shining American moment. And as Akira lands, the crowd pops bigger than for anything we’ve seen up to this point.

 

 

But not for Akira’s beautiful Senton.

 

 

 

ZZZZZZZZZGHHHHHHHHIIINGNNGTTTHH

 

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Pete shouts what’s on everyones mind.

 

 

Akiras back digs into the stomach of Bruce, and as this happens both men feel the sting of 500 volts running through their back. To quote everyones favorite play by play man, what the hell?!

 

The SmarkTron plays a replay, in slow motion (as Blank and Akira lay on the floor). This camera angle was lower, much lower than the one shown originally. From this view, you can clearly see, that half a second before Akira makes contact, Bruce grabs hold of the cage, electrocuting himself, so when Akira hits him, he isn’t the only one whos flesh has a burning smell.

 

“That’s gotta be the smartest thing we’ve ever seen Bruce do!” Pete can finally grasp the art that is hardcore wrestling.

 

“Well, it’s not like he just aced the SATS. It’s a death match. That’s what Bruce does.”

 

Akira, who felt the lesser of the hit, is up to his knees after a brief spot where neither man was moving. Blank shows life, but still isn’t up. By the time Akira makes his way to his feet, Blank is on his knees however, and Kaibatsu sees this an opportunity. Akira takes a half step Blanks way, and shoves his left boot right in Bruces eye, sending the champion into the corner, sitting down. Akira fights the pain in his back, and runs towards the ropes adjacent from the ones Blank sits in. Akira hits the ropes, and comes back. Akiras boot and Blanks head once again become familiar. They may not be familiar long though, as Blank may be getting his hair done. That running face wash sent Bruces head into the cage, his hair burning along with it.

 

“Do you think Blank uses duct tape on his hair, as well?” King cracks at the misfortune of others.

 

What came next may be the most vile thing to ever hit a wrestling ring. That running face wash to the cage, not only electrocuted Bruce, but it cut him, right in the side of the head. His temple was bleeding, and then was electrocuted. People often say “their blood is boiling” when people are angry. Bruce must have been really fucking angry.

 

 

Akira grabs Blank by the hair (the left side of it, anyway) and when he gets up, Akira throws a clubbing forearm to Blanks back. Kaibatsu reaches backwards with his arm, slapping it forward for the knife edged chop. After another chop, Akira turns around, and runs at the ropes. He bounces back, and lifts his arm for a lariat, but in a split second, and only for a split second, Bruce regains focus of himself, and scoops Kaibatsu running back for a power slam!

 

 

“Back and forth action!” King breaks in before Pete does, for the call.

 

“A little tit for tat. Whodathunk in a Deathmatch”

 

The side of Bruces face lies on the mat, and his bubbling blood leaves a stain, right on the “F” in the Clusterfuck logo.

 

“Funny how Bruce just can’t seem to win the battle of censorship.”

 

 

After a second or two, Bruce is right back up, ready to keep battling, defending his gold. He reaches down at his fallen opponent, picking him up by the mask. Blank blows forearms at Akira. Blood smears over his mask, though it doesn’t belong to Akira, it certainly makes him look hardcore.

 

Blank continues to blow forearms at Akira, who refuses to fall to the ground. After a 6th straight clubbing strike, Akira lets it all out.

 

 

“AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Like an odd Japanese battle cry, Akira throws elbows Blanks way (his ode to puro stylist Danny Williams.) Back and forth, Elbows for Forearms, blow after blow. Akira gets a bit of an upper hand, hitting two in a row . . . three times consecutively . . . 4 unanswered elbows . . . Then Akira makes a full 360° spin before his elbow, completing a powerful discus elbow!

 

Bruce refuses to go down though. He might have been knocked backwards, but he didn’t go down. Seeing he has room to work with, Blank runs forward at Kaibatsu, raising an arm for a big clothesline, which he successfully hits.

 

Just like his opponent though, Akira refuses to be knocked down. He’ll allow himself to be knocked backwards, but no more. Both men look at each other, as they hold their hands on their knees catching a breath.

 

 

Blank bends down further, to his knees, holding his head now, and not his stomach. The bleeding coming from his head, he tries to stop it. But holding it wont do anything. Akira sees when to take advantage of opportunities, and the young wrestler sees this as one to take, running at the champ, throwing a dropkick at the stomach.

 

Bruce immediately gives up the game of falling, going right down on his stomach, and it most certainly was not a pretty site, as he coughed up blood, creating a pool of the maroon that he stood for.

 

It was just now that the announce team, realized that they had been silent for over 2 minutes. “I . . . Well . . . He . . . “ Pete has nothing to say. King starts to mutter something, but decides to leave it alone.

 

Akira sees this as a good time to make a cover, and who wouldn’t? He hooks both legs, and as he does so, you can see the that blood has been flowing all the way down his body, making his faded jeans a nice purple.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONEEEEEEE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOO!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREHOWISTHATPOSSIBLE?!

 

 

“Oh my god! Not a chance! How . . .” Pete marvels at Blank’s resilliance to keep the title that he’s held for so long. And looking back, Pete sure has done a lot of marveling at this match.

 

King sits there in silence. At this point in the match . . . nothing anyone can say will sound intelligent. Only an annoyance to the site that this match is to see.

 

 

Blank rolled his left shoulder up, as high as he could make it go, to show the entire world that the title still belonged to the Trailer Park Messiah. Unfortunately for our Redneck, his shoulder rolled right into the arms of his opponent, and after grabbing the other arm, Akira had blank doubled over, and butterflied.

 

 

Finally calling the action, Pete hollers “Akira’s setting him up! It Came From Sendai!”

 

“ . . . And it ends in Los Angeles California”

 

Akira musters up the strength to lift Bruce, and spin halfway, before sitting down, and planting Blank face first on the mat, splattering the blood across the canvas. And the ring looked like just that. Bruce had his own painting show on Public Access, but the only color he used was Crimson.

 

Bruce is Hardcore champion for a reason though: He’s really fucking Hardcore. It’s not often in SWF we see somebody no-sell a move, but it’s just as seldom to see someones blood physically boil.

 

Akira shows again he’s a rookie—and without Mr. Kobe outside to guide him. He stares in awe at what seems to be the ruining of One of Akira’s biggest assets, It Came From Sendai. Bruce got up quicker than anytime we’ve seen in this match, and sprints right towards the man that he’s been closer to losing to than anyone before. Bruce rocks him with a forearm that sends him into the turnbuckle. Akira bounces off the corner, sending him right into the hands of Ultraviolent Champion Bruce Blank. Blank stuffs Akira’s head between his legs, lifting him up, so that Kaibatsu sits atop his shoulders. Blank’s blood flies over Akira’s chest, as he’s thrown into the turnbuckle.

 

 

 

 

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

 

 

“He powerbombed Akira right into the turnbuckle! His back . . . It’s . . .” Pete, for that last 10 minutes seems to be having minor difficulty finishing sentences.

 

“Well, it was a good showing for Akira . . . he was so close to beating Blank. Almost ending Bruce’s never ending reign.”

 

 

Blank wipes the crimson mask out of his face, revealing that there was indeed more than one cut beneath it. He drops to his knees, and makes the nonchalant cover.

 

 

ONEEEEEEEEEEE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEESTILNOTIT!

 

 

 

 

“This match will not end.”

 

“Not unless someone makes it end.”

 

 

 

Blank is not discouraged, he hasn’t been all match, why start now? He lifts Akira by his blood struck mask, and throws forearms at it. He leaves the mask for Akiras olive arm, wrenching it so Akira squeals. He propels himself to the top rope, as Akira screams in pain.

 

In a sudden turn, Bruce’s bloody head begins to ache, and he peels his arm back to his head, not realizing that he could have used his free arm, instead of the one holding Akiras. Akira seizes this opportunity, grabbing Blank by the head that troubles him, and using the turnbuckle as leverage, he manages to boost Blank up in the air. He drops him down, splitting his back over Akiras padded knee.

 

“The Divine Backbreaker!”

 

“I guess that’s gonna do it . . .”

 

Akira can’t make a real cover. He’s been through too much in this crazy match to have the energy. He sprawls his bloody body over Blanks sprawled bloody body, only making it legal. Not effective.

 

 

 

ONEEEEEE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOO!!!!

 

 

 

 

“ . . . Here it comes”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREENOCIGAR!

 

 

Bruce rolls his shoulder up like it was the end of the world. And for him, maybe losing the title really is the end of the world.

 

Akira doesn’t know what to do. He’s tried everything. So he picks up Bruce by the hair, and just starts to brawl. He’s come to realize that all this match is, is a glorified, bloody, electrocution filled brawl. But a brawl for everything. A brawl for the gold. And a brawl for pride.

 

He throws his entire arsenal of strikes Blanks way. Elbows, and forearms, and knees, and chops, and slaps, and kicks. Whack! Thwop! Chip!

 

Akira pulls his left hand back, loading the gun that is his arm. He swings it forward, with all his might, but Bruce has just as much might left in him too, it seems. He ducks, and takes a half step forward, getting behind Akira.

 

Akira turns his body, and all he can see, is Bruce grabbing his head. Before he knew it, he was inverted, in mid air, at the hands of his enemy. He doesn’t stay for long though . . . he’s thrown down, his back hitting the canvas.

 

 

“ . . . The Blank Bomb” Pete calls Bruce’s finishing move, in despair. There’s little hope for our hero.

 

“THE BLANK BOMB!” King finally lets it out. He’s been waiting to call Bruce’s finisher all night.

Bruce makes a cover, hooking both legs.

 

 

 

 

ONEEEE!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“After 2 months . . .”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BOOOOOOOOOFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKIIIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGGGOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM

MMM

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There’s still hope.

 

 

 

 

A dust like cloud sweeps over the SWF ring, no one inside can be seen, or heard. As the fans pop like chewing gum, the announcers try to call the madness they just saw.

 

“ . . .”

 

But there really is nothing to be called. When the dust settles, we can see Akira and Bruce, laying on the canvas, almost dead. The fans wont stop cheering. It’s louder right now than when Kobe scored 81 points. The Staples Center was really the loudest place in the world right then.

 

 

Maybe it was so loud we couldn’t hear the announcers. Maybe it was so insane they couldn’t say anything. Maybe it was to special for us to want to.

 

Akira makes his way to his knees, as does Blank. Akira can’t quite make it up himself though. He needs help, and he finds it in the ropes. Inches away from electrocution, Akiras blood drips to the floor.

 

Bruce however, needs to support to make his way back up to his feet. He is back up, and sees Akira by the cage like a Hyena staring down pray. He runs faster than we’ve seen him run ever, directed at the back of Akiras head, which we can clearly see. The explosion seems to have burnt Akira’s mask at the back, and is almosy completely split.

 

Near death by electrocution, Akira, maybe by spider-senses, gets out of the way of Blank’s running attack, causing Blank to run straight into the cage.

 

 

 

 

ZZZZZZZZNNNNGGHHHHHTH

 

 

Blank almost falls backwards, but Akira catches him. Not with a baseball mit, but with a cravate. 3/4 headlock. He takes his head, and runs towards the turnbuckle. He steps up the 2nd buckle with his left foot, and the top buckle with his right. Flipping backwards, Akira lands on his knees. Blank wasn’t as lucky.

 

 

 

“We . . . That . . .”

 

“On August 12th, 2004, Akira overshot the Divine Wind. I don’t think it was an accident this time”

 

The SWF debut, of the Divine Wind ’04.

 

Making a cover, Akira locks up the series.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONEEE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nick Soapdish’s hand lands in Blank’s blood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A hand print of blood appears as Soapdish slams a second time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gold might have been sweet for Akira, if there wasn’t blood in his mouth.

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEE!

 

 

 

“OH MY GOD HE DID IT!”

 

“I . . . guess he did.” King is astonished, that this green little prick beat his man.

 

 

The cage goes back to the ceiling, and Nick hands Akira his hard earned title. Akira holds it close to his chest, leaving the newest blood stain on the strap.

[Smartly Pretty 0]

EDIT: Whoops double post.