Jump to content
TSM Forums
Sign in to follow this  


Recommended Posts







"Hojo, you've got to be kidding me. Absolutely not. I refuse."


"Despite the fact he was one of your biggest stars?"


"He could be Edwin MacPhisto, but when a man walks out on his contract like that, you don't get a second shot!"


The commissioner's office, as always, is dim and dank in the early evening hours before Lockdown. The rapidly converted broom closet, it seems, on the administrative level in San Quentin, is the makeshit place that Joe Peters will conduct operations for this episode of Lockdown. His large oaken desk, as always, has been transported from the previous location, and, as always, the uncomfortable visitor's chair is occupied - by one Hiroshi Hojo.


The Inquisior's pleasing smile is tempered a little today, particularly by the seething expression on the face of the SWF commissioner. "So you are telling me, then, that there is no way that you will allow JJ Johnson to rejoin the SWF?"


"Oh, there is a way," Peters starts, incredulously. "First, he goes back to UFC like he promised. And then, after being exposed as the old and prone hack that he is, he comes crawling back on his hands and knees and begs me for the cushy dates and six figure salary we were handing out before. And THEN, after I suspend him and work his contract back down to five figures, and maybe consider some legal action, then he gets back into the SWF."


Hojo impassively watches Peters as he raves, waving his arms about dramatically. "And despite the potential profit turn JJ Johnson can generate, as one of the few legitimate main event draws that you have right now?"


"Don't tell me how to run my fucking federation!" Peters shouts. "What the hell is your interest in Johnson, anyway? You're just a security contractor - I didn't know you were friends with any of the workers."


"There are... many things you don't know," Hojo replies, with a beaming smile. "Even if I am 'just' a security contractor, I am still represntative of one of the few corporate entities willing to do business with the SWF."


"And that does not give you a right to dictate the terms I run the SWF," Peters firmly replies.


"I suppose not. After all, I'm not one of your sponsors," Hojo says, airly. Peters glowers at him. "Just the same, Mr. Peters. I didn't come here to barter with you. I came here to ask if you would be willing to give Mr. Johnson another fair shake."


Hojo's smile fades someone, as he looks up to directly face the SWF commissioner. "Because what I have to tell you now, I think, you are not going to like very much."


"What are you getting at, Hojo?"


"I went and did something, I suppose, that could be considered a little rash," Hojo responds, attempting to sound innocent. "Really, I wanted to come to you, attempt to have this done more appropriately. But JJ Johnson came to me the other day, and he offered me his services. His services as... a member of SWF security."


Peters does a double-take. "He what!? You can't... you don't mean..."


"I was as surprised as you were!" Hojo assures, sounding less than completely trustworthy. "I really did want something more appropriate for our friend JJ, and so I came to you to ask if you would accept him back as a wrestler, but it seems you simply won't let that happen--"


"Hojo," Peters growls, leaning in across his desk. "You did not give him a job. Tell me that you did NOT give him a job."


"I had to give him a job!" pleads Hiroshi. "He is a trained submissionst, a true gladiator among other fighters. His very presence commands respect! Besides, you don't think I could turn down even more SWF experience, could you?


"All this does, Mr. Peters, is lend even more legitimacy to this operation."


Peters stares at the man sitting in the room with him with something between anger and exasperation. Hojo can only tilt his head slightly and smile.


"Now, if there's nothing else, Mr. Commissioner, I'm sure you have other... matters to attend to. This lovely location for an SWF show must be providing a terror of logistical issues." With a curt nod, the Inquisitor rises from his seat and tips his hat towards Joseph Peters. Peters stammers somewhat, attempting to find the right words. As he ungarbles them in his mouth, he looks up, only to find Hiroshi Hojo gone.


The bowl of jelly beans, everpresent on Peters' desk, once again removes itself forcible against the wall.









The opening shot of Lockdown is not your normal "panning the arena" shot, there are no signs in the crowd, although there are a few hand gestures. The general population of San Quentin are all gathered in the Yard of the federal prison to watch the SWF go where no federation has ever gone before, although by putting Ben Hardy in the ring right off the bat it's not like the SWF are ingratiating themselves to the prison population




Hardy looks a little lost out there, like a lamb amongst the wolves so to speak but he soldiers on and introduces Storm


"La… " Hardy looks around and sees only men in the audience "GENTLEMEN WELCOME TO LOCKDOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWH!!"


No response, it's a tough crowd and honestly they probably don't like the concept of "Lockdown" - although it carries a different meaning to them.


"I would like to introduce my guests this week Bruce and Wayne – THE BLANK BOYS!"




The positive response from the crowd shocks Hardy but honestly these are hardened criminals who wouldn't spit you if you were on fire, if there is anyone in the SWF they could identify with it'd be Bruce Blank.


"Alabama or San Quentin – Bruce'll get a home town response in either apparently" King says as Bruce and Wayne are let into the yard with "Don't ask me no questions" playing over the speaker systems.


"Greetings citizens CYLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE Comet here to save you all from the scum of the earth that we are all locked in with. Have no fear – Comet is here!" Comet Cyclone says with a smile, pleased with being back on the air once more.


Bruce and Wayne actually take a moment to circle the ring and high five some of the prisoners although after 3 – 4 high fives armed guards step in and instruct Bruce and Wayne to keep their distance from the prisoners so they cannot pass anything back and forth.




Bruce quickly enters the ring looking very pissed off as he snatches the microphone out of Ben Hardy's hand.


"Man I swore I'd never come back to this place when they let me go – but here I am" Bruce says




"Ain't that fucked up?" Bruce asks with a smirk.


"Citizen Blank did time in San Quentin?" Cyclone Comet asks.


"Apparently so, I can't say it's a surprise" King responds.


"Now excuse me because I haven't been this pissed off since I woke up in solitary confinement without my belt and my boots!!" Bruce spits out as his attention turns to the topic at hand.


"You know that's more insight into Bruce's private life than I ever wanted" says Suicide King.


"RENEGADE!!!!!" Bruce bellows over the microphone. "Brave little man when it comes to jumping someone from behind! Well I ain't never been one for letting someone jump me from behind unpunished and that's sure as shit not going to change now. Ya'll know what I'm talking about"


YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!! (Mainly from the "dominant" part of the prison population, their bitches just applaud politely)


"Get over here you fat microphone jockey" Wayne yells at Ben Hardy who's kinda retreated to the corner.


Bruce hands Ben the microphone and then makes him hold up the microphone so Bruce can keep talking.


"Can you just stand there and hold the microphone? Because I'm fixin' to throw down here and I need both hands free" Bruce says.


"We ain't taking this shit! There is no way they're going to get away with this" Wayne yells over the microphone revealing that he may not be the best spokesperson for the Blank Boys.


"You all saw Storm I'm sure. It seems that the Little Lunch-a-door brought in his old friend the Renegade"




"Yeah I'm with you! This guy probably thinks he's a shoe in to win at From the Fire! He probably thinks that one lucky move last week means he actually has a chance against m-" that's all Bruce gets to say before he's cut off by "Man in a Box" signaling IL's arrival.


"Here comes trouble" King says


"No it's Insane Luchador and the Renegade" Cyclone says totally oblivious to what King meant.


Luchador and Renegade walk out to a less than positive response but it doesn't seem to bother them as they run to the ring ready to shut Bruce's mouth. Hardy foolishly holds up the microphone to IL's face to get a rebuttal.


"We're not here to debate you guys, we're here to … "


That's all Insane Luchador says before he jumps on Bruce and starts to punch away at the big man with wildly swinging lefts and rights. Renegade takes advantage of Wayne's surprise and clotheslines the younger Blank brother over the top rope as well as himself as all of his 260 pounds are used to take Wayne to the ground.


"I'm going to have go down there and dispense justice, these guys are just out of control!" Cyclone Comet says as he stands up.


"Oh just sit down and let them sort it out amongst themselves" King says as he rolls his eyes.


Bruce and Luchador are exchanging lefts and rights at a furious pace as they roll around on the canvas blindly swinging at each other. Renegade is busy chasing the fleeter footed Wayne around the outside of the ring trying his best to catch the little pest. Bruce decides to mix it up a bit more and manages to knee Luchador in the gut to catch a momentary break from the rain of fists.


"Wayne!! Chair, CHAIR!!" Bruce yells as he motions for his brother to throw him a chair.


Too bad Wayne is busy keeping 3 steps ahead of the Renegade and can't really throw a chair to his brother. Then suddenly a folded chair flies into the ring, thrown by one of the inmates in the crowd to a huge pop. Bruce picks it up and motions for "More" as he picks up the folding chair.




Another chair is thrown into the ring




And yet another followed by a 4th and a 5th.


"Who's bright idea was it to give the first 5 rows folding chairs" King asks as more and more inmates get up, fold up their chairs and toss them in the ring






After a moment or two of chair tossing the situation slowly gets out of hand, more and more chairs are tossed into the ring and both Bruce and Insane Luchador have to shield themselves behind a chair to protect them from all the flying chairs that are being launched at the ring by the rowdy inmates.










"IN THE NAME OF RIGHTIOUS ANGER I COMMAND YOU ALL TO STOP" Comet yells but he can't overpower the sound of the prisoners cheering and yelling and throwing chairs into the ring.


There are so many chairs in the ring now that they've actually half way buried both Bruce and Insane Luchador as they desperately try to defend themselves but with less than stellar results. Bruce is struck on the jaw with a chair and IL has been hit on the back 2-3 times by a flying steel chair. The sheer number just overwhelms both wrestlers as the chairs keep piling up in the ring actually burying both of them under their weight. Renegade and Wayne Blank both desperately tries to pulls as many chairs from the ring as they can but each time they pull a chair out an inmate grabs it and throws it back in.


"Oh thank god" King says as he sees Janus and a squad of prison guards come down the aisle to stop the rioting.


The guards all pull their guns and point them at the crowd to get them under control but it's not until the Hell Machine walks up the steps and stands on the apron that they stop. Janus looks furious and like he's ready to tear each and every inmate apart one by one and if anyone could do that it'd be Janus.


"WE WANT THIS TO STOP RIGHT NOW!!" Janus bellows to make sure all the inmates can hear him.


And they do, they stop throwing chairs and just kinda stand there looking slightly apologetic about getting so out of hand, being caught up in the moment most of them acted without even thinking about it.


"When I was an active wrestler I never wanted to see Janus head to the ring but damn it's good to see him tonight" King says as he wipes the sweat off his brow, the show isn't even 10 old and they've already had a potential crisis situation on their hands.


"Impressive, very impressive – Citizen Bailey has a very commanding presence" Comet says praising the work of the head of SWF security.


The ring crew quickly head to the ring and begins to pulls the chairs from the ring getting everything in order once more. After most of the chairs are removed from the ring Wayne helps Bruce out of the ring and then lets Bruce lean on him as he helps his rubber legged brother to the back and away from any more flying chairs. Renegade is in the ring talking to Insane Luchador who's sitting up but wincing in pain.


"I hope that didn't do any permanent damage" Cyclone says


"Oh they're both tough guys I'm sure they can handle it" King says, his trademark arrogance and overbearing tone has returned now that a riot has been prevented.


"Imagine what will happen when these two mighty titans of the Rule-less clash in the ring?" Cyclone adds.


We fade to the traditional Lockdown intro video as Insane Luchador and Renegade walk to the back, IL rubbing his shoulder and neck but looks to be okay otherwise, albeit a little shocked by the whole thing.

Edited by Justice

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation In Association With Dangerous Productions Presents…



(7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings for showtimes)


One show away from the SWF’s monumental Pay-Per-View “From the Fire”, the SWF heads to San Quentin State Prison for a little time off for good behavior! That’s right; tonight we head to the elegant home of such celebrities as “The Night Stalker” Richard Ramirez and Scott Peterson, amongst a slew of other gas chamber enthusiasts, for the sole purpose of a few gimmick matches, and to say the SWF has been where Johnny Cash has been! However, this won’t be like Metallica’s shitty “St. Anger” video (or album for that matter) that was filmed on location at San Quentin - this is going to be a riot! The final rounds of the Lethal Lottery are scheduled to take place as well as a contendership for the International Championship and a Ultraviolent Title Match! This show is a can’t miss, no holds barred extravaganza!






El Luchadore Magnifico © & Jay Hawke © VS Wes Davenport & Wildchild

Dominant - that’s the single word that describes the team of El Luchadore Magnifico and Jay Hawke – the SWF World Heavyweight Champion and International Champion respectively. Both men have held on to their titles with an iron grip, thwarting all that have tried to challenge them. Meanwhile, Wes Davenport acted his way through the 2006 Clusterfuck and won, entitling him to a match for the World Heavyweight Championship at From the Fire. He has all the momentum in the world backing him as nobody has ever challenged for the World Title at From the Fire and lost after winning the Clusterfuck. His partner, the Wildchild, arguably one of the hottest commodities in the SWF today has a well documented and heated rivalry with Jay Hawke that will come to a head at the pay-per-view as well as a bitter past with our World Champion that could be re-agitated. Tonight, the Champions team up to take on their Challengers for the last act before the titles go on the line. Whoever wins here will definitely have the momentum heading into the PPV…barring a prison riot that puts the entire production on hold, that is.

RULES: Standard tag team match.




Asian Underground (Akira Kaibatsu © and Michael Cross) (3-0) Vs. Insane Luchadore and Kevin Coyote (3-0)

Insane Luchadore and Kevin Coyote - not quite the most unlikely pair in the Lottery, but definitely in the running - have overcome the odds to go 3-0! The Asian Underground, a team that makes a bit more sense, have also gone 3-0, making this a fairly interesting match. Will the established team of Akira and Cross prevail, or will the thrown-together Team Coyotadore prove that you don't have to like each other to win together?

RULES: Lumberjack match. Pinfall or submission to win, DQ's are in effect. The lumberjacks surrounding the ring will be some of San Quentin's most violent offenders.



HELL IN A CELL (block 40)

Bruce Blank Vs The Crimson Skull

Special Guest Referee: Ghost Machine 2.0

Well leave it to good old Wayne Blank to book his brother Bruce in a title match this close to From the Fire, but you got to understand – Wayne says you couldn’t pass up this secret weapon. Anyway…Originally, I thought hell in a prison cell would be lots of fun but the realization of how confined and limited you would be made me change my mind. Thus, we have Hell in Cellblock 40 – Death Row. The entire cell block is at your disposal and those awaiting their fateful day watch anxiously from their 8x6 cell. Who will win in this hellish environment is anyone’s guess!! Especially when the special referee has a glitchy track record regarding Hardcore rules!

RULES: Standard Pinfall or submissions are in effect. Obviously there are no disqualifications…oh, and you make your entrance through a cell with a curtain covering the doorway. Each man from a different cell.




SpYon ("Hollywood" Spike Jenkins and Zyon) (3-0) Vs. Jimmy the Doom & Manson (3-0)

The Lethal Lottery winds down as just four teams are left, and after tonight there will only be two. Team SpYon put on a rather pathetic display on Storm but hopefully they can get it together because Jimmy ‘The Fucking” Doom and Manson are no slouches! The winner of this match combined with the winner of the final lethal Lottery match will go on to face the Tag Champs in TLC4 at From the Fire.

RULES: Teammates will be shackled together at their ankles. Pinfall or submission victory, DQ's are in effect.




Christian Fury Vs Landon Maddix Vs Arch Griffon

Now that GriffonHawke is out of the Lethal Lottery, Arch Griffon can get back to more pressing matters - mainly, taking the International Title back from Jay Hawke. But he's got some stiff competition - someone lit a fire under Fury's ass last show, because he went a wee bit bonkers and destroyed Ghost Machine! And Landon? Landon's just looking to hurt some folk. The winner of this match shall receive a International title match after From the Fire.

RULES: Standard triple-threat match, elimination rules.



Amy Stephens Vs. Matt “Bubba” Myers

Well, well, well…somebody let a fine looking female into a prison full of sexually starved male prisoners. Unfortunately, as most of us are aware of, being in prison is about crossing the line meaning Myers and his rear end could be doing some hard time as well. How is this you say? Well, the loser of this match gets the luxury of spending one(1) full night in Prison…alone.

RULES: Standard Singles Match

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites



Outside of the San Quentin State Prison, SWF head honcho Joseph Peters is sat at his makeshift desk. And, by makeshift desk, I of course mean the boot of his car. Yes, that old comedy stand-by. And by 'boot', I of course mean 'trunk' for all of my Trans-Atlantic friends out there who I certainly wouldn't want to confuse. With his papers laid out on the car, Peters stands up from the beer crate he'd managed to procure from a nearby skip and with arms folded, looks out into the California night. Footsteps and the sound of a luggage carrier being wheeled along can be heard in the distance and Joseph strains his eyes to see if this is, finally, the person he's been waiting to arrive. And, to part relief and part frustration, it is.


Landon Maddix.


"Oh..." Landon stops, putting his carrier down. "I wasn't expecting a welcoming party."


"Don't flatter yourself kid. My office is still a 'no go area', apparantly. The place is in lockdown."


"The show, or the law thing?"


"One of the prisoners said he was looking forward to getting Judge's autograph and all hell broke loose, apparantly. But that's besides the point. The moment they let me have my office back, I expect you to come and find me to give me that explanation. Understood?"


"No problem."


Maddix walks off with a slight shake of the head, as Peters watches on with arms still folded.







And by the magic of (pretend) television, we are back in the present and walking with Landon Maddix down the lonely, bleek, echoing corridors of the San Quentin State Prison! Maddix is already in his ring gear with the little matter of a triple threat match coming up, turning a corner as he searches for what is Joseph Peters' not quite so makeshift office. As he reaches the end of the corridor, Maddix finally finds what he wants and casually opens the door...




...not quite expecting the people, rather than person, waiting for him. Sat beside Joseph Peters is a frowning executive consultant Tom Flesher, both flanked by a standing and rather monstrous Janus. Taken aback by the presence of these two SWF retirees, one of whom he was indirectly responsible for retiring, Landon suddenly becomes much more wary as he closes the door behind him.




"...or, should we say, Laberinto?" sneers Flesher, interrupting Peters to his slight annoyance.


"Take a seat Landon."


Landon cautiously does so, aware that Janus is glaring right at him.


"In your own time."


"Look, Josep...Mr Peters. This Laberinto thing was never meant to cause any offense to you or make you look bad to anyone higher up the pecking order. This was something I thought I had to do, for me. I'm sorry if you weren't happy, but it was something I felt I needed, you know? I wasn't expecting to be thrown into this Lethal Lottery deal, otherwise I'd have probably dealt with it before now."


"Oh, well that's okay then." sneers Flesher, again.


"I hate to speak out of turn, but what's the problem here? It's not like I was hurting anyone. The pay you had me on as Laberinto was pittance. If it's that you're worried about, then fine, I'll hand you the money back. I gave you an extra option on the show, the fans were getting into it, I wasn't doing any damage."


"Tell that to Ced."


Landon sighs and leans back in his seat as Flesher looks up at Janus, as if to say 'hurt him and I'll buy you dinner or something'.


"Tom brings up a good point." admits Peters. "Landon, your behaviour recently has been selfish, which I can handle. But recently you've been a loose cannon and to be honest, I don't like dealing with loose cannons. What you did to Ced was simply the tip of the iceberg. Recently, you've been making unprovoked comments about an ex-employee of the SWF, who'd be well within his rights to sue for slander considering some of what you've said. You've gone into business for yourself with the Laberinto thing. You deliberately decieved SWF officials and staff. You attacked an innocent referee at Clusterfuck. You've disrespected the SWF World Tag Team Championship. And then, you try to injury Ced Ordonez, blatantly going against the rules my friend Janus has set out for this company."


Nervously, Landon glances up at Janus, meeting his eyes for a milisecond before sheepishly looking back down at his feet.


"Landon, I can't keep putting up with this."


"Well you know how to solve all this, Joseph. Get me Toxxic."


"Michael Stephens doesn't work for the SWF anymore. You know that. He has no obligation to resign for this company and he has no contractual obligations to fulfill from his previous deal. I've already looked into finding him, out of courtesy for his sister. And, with all due respect, I'm more afraid of her than I am you."


"Then I suggest you take the bass out of your voice when talking to her boyfriend."


In the corner of the room, Flesher tries to hide his laughter but fails, miserably. Janus even manages a smirk at this INTENSE~! side of Landon, while Peters just brushes the threat off.


"I want you in that ring and I want you to give a full, honest explanation to the fans. They were duped, just like us. You will give them an explanation and then, you'll get on with your match tonight. As far as official punishment goes, I'm going to meet with my laywers next week, when they're not afraid to be seen hanging around the venue we're running our show at. We'll discuss a fair amount to fine you and get back to you. You're getting off without a suspension, this time, because we need you at From The Fire. If Janus decides you need a little more...punishment...on the subject of Ced Ordonez, I'll allow him to administer it on his own time. For now, you're free to go."


"So, you're not gonna lift a finger to help me out?"


"Give me one good reason why I should..."


"Because Toxxic versus Maddix 3 not only guarantees you my contentment, but it'll also make you a lot of money."


Peters sighs, shaking his head as he motions for Landon to get out of the room and his sight. Shrugging, Landon does exactly that, mouthing the words 'think about it' before leaving the room and the trio of authority figures and such behind him.


"He's obviously serious about this Toxxic thing, Joe."


"I know...I know."

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon booms, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is a specially-sanctioned ‘Prison Bitch’ match! The loser will have to spend one night with the inmates of this facility!”




“Well, the miscreants and scoundrels present here appear to enjoy the prospect of that stipulation,” Cyclone Comet says with distaste, “but then should we really expect anything less from such villains?”


“Comet, I swear if there was one show to bring you back for, this wasn’t it,” King sighs.


“And I suppose you sympathise with these disturbed examples of humanity around us?” the SWF’s superhero says.


“Not at all,” King sniffs, “they were dumb enough to get caught which, let’s face it, very rarely happened to me.”


It is at this moment that ‘Walla Walla’ by The Offspring starts up, and the prison population rises in unanimous support for their unlikely hero! Matt Myers comes marching out, waving his hands as he revels in people actually liking him for once (not realising, perhaps, that although this crowd of hard-bitten scumbags would prefer his opponent to be confined with them, they’ll take him in a pinch).


‘Goodbye my friend, you’ve messed up again

You’ve going to prison, you’re off to the pen!

You’ve gotten off easy so many times,

I guess no-one told you how to GET A LIFE!’


“Introducing first, from Cell Block H and weighing in at 226lbs… MATT… ‘BUBBA’… MYYYYYYYY-ERS!!”


Myers hits the ring - not metaphorically, he literally charges straight into it because he’s so busy waving - then manages to roll under the bottom rope. From there Funyon helps the mildly-dazed jobber upright as Dexter Holland and co. fade out, before a rather older punk riff fires up and ‘Blitzkrieg Bop’ by the Ramones blasts out from the speakers. Amy Stephens then makes her way out towards the squared circle with no lager in sight for once (no alcohol in this institution!) which may explain her pissed-off expression.


“And his opponent, from Nottingham, England; she weighs in tonight at 172lbs, this is AAAAAAMMMMMYYYYYYY… STEEEEEEEEEEE-PHENS!!”


The crowd reaction is mixed - a fair portion cheer the sight of a woman, quite a few boo because they want Myers to win, and there’s a good number who just make leering noises. Amy ignores them all and hops straight into the ring, then charges at Matt Myers!




“We’re underway here,” Comet says, “and Miss Stephens is immediately making her feelings known!”


Sure enough, Amy has launched herself straight at Myers in a Lou Thesz Press and begun pummelling him with right hands. One brave lag in the front row stands up and shouts something about wanting Amy to jump on him like that, to which the Punk-Rock Princess bounds to her feet and leans over the top rope.


‘Oh yeah? You say that again cuntface an’ I’ll come out there and break yer jaw, ya get me!?’


He sits down again.


“Well, she’s a role model for young women of today,” King comments. “Mind you, her brother’s no better. Shove a couple of balloons down his shirt and you’d be hard-pressed to tell them apart. In fact, I think Toxxic’s make-up was done better.”


Amy turns back around, still muttering something under her breath… into a Diamond Cutter!






“It could be over already!” Comet booms as Amy bounces onto her back from the move, and Myers (already blown up) sprawls backwards to make a cover…











-but Amy suddenly comes back to life and wraps her left arm around Myer’s throat, then quickly locks in a bodyscissors to complete the Last Orders! This is a Prison Bitch match, so it’s only appropriate that Matt Myers should tap like a bitch…




Which he does.




“And just like that, it’s over!” Comet yells as Amy grabs the breatheless Myers by his collar and pitches him over the top rope into the crowd, who instantly pounce on the luckless jobber. “We’ll see you after the commercial break!”


The last shot is of Matt Myers disappearing under a crowd of orange-clad bodies while prison guards wade in with appropriate nightsticks and so on, trying to quell the riot.















"Everybody better lissen up cos I got somefing to say innit!"


"Citizens, we're back here on Lockdown where Amy Stephens just defeated Matt Myers in very short order," Comet informs the viewers, "but she hasn't yet left the ring and seems to have something on her mind."


"If you can call it a mind," Suicide King snipes, "I mean, how come she's from England, but can't speak English?"


Amy seems completely at ease in the middle of a bunch of volent, psychotic men (which is presumably why she joined the SWF, after all) and just stands in the ring with the microphone that she took from Funyon in the commercial break.


"Y'know what, right," she starts, "ever since I bin here I've had to show people that I ain't some stupid girl who shouldn't be in the ring, you know what I mean? An' especially Joe Peters who like thought I should be a 'Diva' or somefing and it's like, no way mate, ain't gonna happen. I'm a wrestler, right? I done me training-"


"Debatable," King interjects.


"-and I ain't sitting around lookin' pretty in three hankies an' a bit of string when I can be kicking the crap out of people, ya get me? So what it is, right, is that I ain't been beaten yet! Yeah, sure, Bruce got beat, but there ain't no-one in the SWF who's ever pinned me or made me tap out, right? So I reckon I should be in line for some sort of title shot."


"I can see the shiver of fear passing through the SWF Champions as we speak," King says sarcastically, "I mean, come on! There's no way she'd be able to beat Bruce or the Crimson Skull, whoever wins tonight, and as for Jay Hawke or Magnifico... don't make me laugh! The only person who might be remotely worried is Akira, but he should be worried anyway now that JJ Johnson, the best Cruiserweight Champion of all time has been seen again!"


"I think you may underestimate the abilities of this young woman, Citizen King," Comet says aloofly, "she may not have the vocabulary of her brother but when it comes to getting the job done in the ring she does indeed have yet to be pinned or forced to submit!"


The crowd are giving Amy's declaration a mixed reaction - a few are starting an 'A-MY!' chant on the basis that maybe she'll sleep with them (hey, she's shagging Landon, her standards can't be that high) while the majority are booing at the idea that a woman might be good at fighting, and a brief 'SHOW YOUR TITS!' chant starts up before being clubbed into oblivion by prison security.


"I ain't bovvered what title it is either, right," Amy says, "'cept I don't want to go for Ultraviolent if Bruce 'as still got it cos I'm gonna keep tagging wiv him for a while and I don't wanna do a Zyon and Spike."


["Did she just say she wants to do Zyon and Spike!?"]


["King, behave yourself!"]


"But anyfing else is alright, I'll take Cruiser or International or fuck, the World Title if someone wants to give me a shot at it," Amy continues, "and I'll tell you what, if you thought my brother was somefing then you wait and see until I get going... YA GET ME!?"


And with that the Punk-Rock Princess chucks the mic vaguely in Funyon's direction and exits the ring, heading out through the baying masses of high-security prisoners before she is lost from view and we






Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Relaxing in a trailer before his upcoming tag match, Kevin Coyote is suddenly interrupted when his cell phone begins ringing. Expecting the caller to be the same as usual, he reaches into his jean jacket pocket, retrieves his phone, and answers it. "Hello?"


"Mr. Coyote," says an unexpected male voice on the other end. "Is that you?"


Coyote blinks in surprise. "Who the hell is this?"


"It's Joseph Peters," replies the caller. "I want to talk to you about your match with Longdogger Pete at From the Fire."


"What about it?" asks Coyote.


"I've decided to change the stipulation," says the SWF general manager. "We can't have a ladder match on an event that's already got a TLC booked. It's redundant. And throw in the possibility that you might be in that TLC match too? It's lunacy."


"With all respect, sir," says Coyote, "when we win tonight and move on in the Lethal Lottery, do you plan on allowing me to wrestle both matches?"


"If you win," corrects Peters, "I'll take the situation under advisement and decide appropriately. Now as far as the stipulation goes... I'm changing the match to a street fight."


"A street fight?" repeats Coyote, pondering this.


"Yes. The career stipulation you requested is still in effect, so the loser of the match will still leave the SWF. Since it's a street fight, the match won't necessarily demand the use of ladders, or chairs... in fact, any weapons will be legally permitted."


"Any weapons?" asks Coyote, raising a brow.


"No disqualifications, no countouts... am I making myself clear, Mr. Coyote?"


"A street fight," Coyote mutters, more to himself than to Peters. "I think I can get into that, dog."

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Backstage, Benjamin Hardy is doing his usual SWF show day duty of walking around, aimlessly looking for someone to interview. Nevermind that he might actually want to watch the show, or that his feet are killing him, or that he actually has a degree in Applied Computer Science and he might actually be able to do some good in this world if he weren't stuck with this damn microphone day and night...he has a job to do, and he's doing it, because he's a trooper.



Suddenly, Hardy's microphone is wrenched from his hand, by none other than Landon Maddix! Hardy turns around, ready to debate this interruption, but he groans and simply decides not to bother. He's got a crate of Bud Ice in his car that needs attending to.


"So, Joseph Peters wants me to give you all an explanation...well, here's your explanation people. When Laberinto 'debuted' in the SWF, I was in the middle of my worst ever losing run. It was getting me down and I needed a way out. If I'm blatantly honest, it was just desperation on my part. New wrestling tights were all I was after when the idea came to me. Jay wanted me to get a new look to go with the new style and being disillusioned about the whole 'technical wrestling equals serious wrestling' situation, I threw his specs to the side I looked for something a little more 'me'. It was never in my mind to masquarade as someone else. That is, until I saw this."


Having reaching into his jacket, Maddix holds the Laberinto mask in his hand.


"Like a bolt of lightning, genius struck me. As soon as the idea hit me I knew it was the perfect chance to turn my fortunes around. I could have my cake and eat it! I could be the technical wrestler Jay and JJ so wanted me to be, but at the same time I could go out and do MY thing and win myself a few matches in the process. Was it dishonest? Was it disloyal? Was it ill-advised to keep up my 'bad habits' at the same time as I was supposed to be dumping them? Yes, yes and probably. But it worked. I came in as Laberinto and I won some matches. And then, BOOM...as soon as I got that first win, I got some confidence back and I got myself Tag Team Title gold. It had worked perfectly. Like a charm. Job done. I kept Laberinto alive for the Clusterfuck, to give me a two in twenty shot instead of a one in ten. That was the plan. I'd achieved what I wanted out of good ol' Laberinto and I was ready to reveal myself after Clusterfuck, because I didn't need a mask anymore..."


"Argueable." argues King.


"I lost and everything else went to the back of my mind for a while. Next thing I knew, Laberinto was booked up and I had commitments to fulfill. Since I had my hand forced I figured I'd keep it going incase it came in handy again...and, wouldn't ya know it, it did! In the end, it became the perfect way to send my message. NOBODY is safe!"


A wierd grin, almost sadistic if that's within Landon's realm, forms on the co-Tag Champion's face.


"Toxxic, I told you that people were going to get hurt! I told you that you were putting the SWF wrestlers in jeopardy! I had outlived my need for this mask. NOBODY is safe, until you come back and end everyone's misery! When you dropped me on my neck you felt terrible. You showed remorse to me and my situations. When I looked down at Ced Ordonez and saw that he wasn't moving...that his head was tilted in such an awkward position...when I stopped and realised exactly what I had just done, I felt one thing Toxxic. One thing. Nothing."


"That's terrible." bemoans Comet.


"I didn't have any remorse. I didn't feel any guilt. Ced Ordonez was simply collateral damage. Michael Cross, collateral damage. And unlike you I am not going to stop and shave my head, burn my clothes and run off to some convent to repent my sins because there are no feelings in my soul anymore apart from the feeling in the back of my neck, the very point that you dropped me on one year ago! There is no guilt in my mind, because the only thing it relays back to me is Revenge, Revenge, Revenge! And Toxxic, there will be no wavering of those thoughts, because only one name runs through my head and through my blood. And that name is the name of Michael Stephens."


The very name sticks in Maddix's throat, causing him to pause momentarily.


"Joseph Peters can send all the threats, all the fines, all the suspensions my way that he wants, but it will not sway nor alter the determination that I have within me. Toxxic...you don't know who's next and you don't know when they'll suffer. You don't know when that next searing dagger of guilt's gonna pierce through your conscience. All you know is...eventually, it will. Ced was fortunate. He didn't get seriously injured. The next person...well, he just might not be so lucky."


Throwing down the microphone, Landon walks off with his duty taken care of.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Some might question the SWF's wisdom in holding a show in a prison full of rapists, lunatics, psychopaths and their ilk. But then those same people contemplate that someone with a clear psychological problem is running the security team, and they figure such a thing is normal for the SWF. Which is why when the show comes back on the air to show the Yard where the ring is set up, there a distinct lack of present superstarts present for the next match. Comet seems otherwise indisposed for the scene - though one sees something resembling a cape flying amid the crowd, because all superheroes have capes - leaving King blissfully alone and away from the maniacs surrounding the ring. He's patiently filing his nails, and gives the camera a distinctly 'why the hell are you looking at me?' glare before looking at the ring and realising why.


Of Landon Maddix, there is no sign.


Of Christian Fury, there is no sign.


And of Arch Griffon, there is no sign.


King waves the cameraman away to go find the superstars, and flanked by security the camera takes the viewers through a sea of prisoners, who all jeer and make comments both grotesque and lascivious for those watching at home. There is no commentary at all - save for a faint cry of "FOR JUSTICE!" somewhere in the background - as the guards lead the cameraman into the prison in the search for their missing superstars. A distinctly high pitched squeal recognisable as the sound of Landon Maddix screaming reaches their ears, and both security and the camera begin to run, tromping through hallways and past cells in the hunt for the missing superstars. A half-dressed Ben Hardy comes stumbling out of one cell still holding his microphone, and the cameraman and guards stop to check the announcer and bring him into the safety of their protective ring.


"The... they... got... they got..." Hardy murmurs, before fainting like a bad horror movie.


"I'll take him out." one giard says, hefting Hardy over his shoulder while the others nod.


"Let's find your wrestlers!" the leader of the security team proclaims.


Once again leading the charge, the guards flank the camera as they go into the dank depths of the prison, another scream echoing out before everyone almost comically skids to a halt. Before them are a pair of double doors leading into the medical wing of the prison, and soon they stomp across tiled floors and stare upon sanitised walls, before skidding to a stop before the room designated to be the prison OR. The cameraman drifts past the guards to look through one of the long glass windows, revealing unconscious bodies and beds stacked up against the door. But there's enough to see the almost horror-movie-esque operating table within. Two of the beds have been commandeered, and both Christian Fury and Arch Griffon are seen on them, tied down with hefty leather straps and gagged. They squirm and kick and struggle, while the body of Landon Maddix is struggling and making a lot more noise in the central area where the 'operating' table is.


Considering the scalpel the doctorly-dressed Ebony is tossing from hand to hand, Landon's girlish screams of terror are entirely justified. Perhaps sensing the watching camera, the ferreasel laughs behind her surgical mask and steps aside to show no harm has come to any of the restrained superstars yet. Winking at the cameraman, the anthropomorphic hybrid holds her scalpel up and makes a cutting motion across her groin, then glances at Landon, Arch, and Christian significantly, causing all three to kick and squirm, eyes nearly bulging out of their heads at the implication. Doctor Ebony merely blows a kiss to the camera and walks over to tip one of the door-blocking beds up to cover the window, causing the cameraman to step back. Guards glance at each other, then at the camera, then at the door.


Then, at the first bloodcurdingly girlish scream, they decide that these three superstars are better off in the hands of their current mistress, guilty as they are of the sin of not showing up for their actual match.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

SWF LOCKDOWN returns from another mandatory commercial, which borders on Super Bowl levels of silliness. Instructed to do so, one of the many untrained SWF cameramen who were dumb enough to come out to San Quentin, spins around showing the home viewers the prison’s fine surroundings…until the screen goes completely black.


“Oh god no…”


“You’ve got a pretty face.”


“Yo I call dibs on the camera.”


Blood curling screams are heard in the background, while the cameraman away from the vigilantes does a much better job. You know like, not getting raped.


“Suicide King here, still in one piece. Tonight’s card so far has been…ok fuck it. How am I supposed to do the standard announce thing with Nasty Nate looking over my shoulder, and let’s not forget who I’m partnered up with tonight.”


“Citizen King, you need to calm down. These men have been institutionalized for years on end. They haven’t had a good meal, a good movie, fine women, money, or anything you have the luxury of having a surplus of. Don’t worry I’m sure they have learned their lesson.”


King gulps, “Can it get any worse.”


“Hey I’m sure I’ve put some of these people away. Yep no doubt. I recognize at least five of these guys.”


“You are NOT a super…”


“You have a pretty face.” One of the inmates whisper.


“OK…ok. You ARE a superhero. Now use your powers and get these scoundrels away from me.” King is sweating from head to toe.


Suddenly, a violent guard runs up and puts a hellacious beating on one of the thugs…


“Teach…you…to…flirt…with celebrities!” The guard barks at the predator turned prey.


“What a fine citizen.” Cyclone Comet trails.


Funyon, the only man hard enough to not catch a wicked stare from one of the sex crazed killers, waits patiently in the ring.


“The next match, is a LETHAL LOTTERY semi final bout…what are you looking at bitch?”


Funyon questions a thug unlucky enough to even look in his direction. Ripping off the standard announcing attire, the hardcore Funyon reveals about a dozen tattoos representing gangs across the nation. Along with the sinister tattoos, is of course, his monstrous, roided up frame.


“Yeah that’s what I thought.” Funyon is ready to go ballistic.


“Citizen Funyon once again proves that he doesn’t need Squirrel Master to come out of left field, and call him his bitch. Funyon is his own bitch.” Comet supports Funyon’s new found toughness.











One of the many unstable thugs annihilates a cheap boom box, the only bit of technology that plays music around these parts. Zyon and his partner Spike Jenkins enter DA YARD, surrounded by security. The aroma of cigarettes, sickens the new Straight Edge Sensation, who finds himself shackled to the ankle of Zyon…


“Oh shit…”


Spike mutters as the innocent Zyon sprints down the ramp, dragging Spike with him.


“First. Hailing from areas you losers will never see again. Weighing in at a combined weight of 420 lbs, Hollywood Spike Jenkins and the Unique Youth Zyon!!”


“I’m going to slit your throat boy.” A nice gesture toward Zyon.


“Straight Edge This…” This individual grabs his crotch like he’s some sort of rapper.


“GOT SOME CRACK!” A skinny white guy only known by the name Farmboy, shouts.


With Spike now composed, the two enter the ring, skipping their usual taunts. Zyon and Spike stay away from the poorly structured cables, known as ring ropes, afraid of the riotous audience.


Dozens of individuals dressed in a hooded black enter DA YARD. Carrying torches, the druids silently chant, “Doom” repeatedly signifying the entrance of one Jimmy The Doom and Manson, which isn’t really one, I guess.


“Dawg you got a light?”


A druid is asked, but the mute individual refuses to answer. The random thug looks on quizzically…


“Better break yourself FOOOO!”


And then the random thug shanks the druid for his torch…let’s have a moment of silence.













Ok. Manson and Jimmy the Doom enter DA YARD chained together, and it seems Lois the Unethical was left home.




“Jimmy the Doom is now the most over heel in the company, all because he left the female back home…in Doomtopia. Did I just call Doomtopia somebody’s home?” King is slowly losing his sanity.


“And their opponents. From places you will never see because one exists and the other is a particle of some psycho’s imagination, at a combined weight of more than the entire cruiserweight division. MANSON and Jimmy DA Doom!”


The two heavyweights slowly drag each other into the ring, already fatigued by walking at each other’s rhythm.


“I have a feeling that this isn’t Manson’s first time in a joint.” Cyclone Comet comments.


“And judging by Jimmy the Doom’s demeanor, it wouldn’t be his first time smoking a joint.”


The four uncomfortable individuals wait for the bell as the brother of senior SWF official Nick Soapdish, Dave Soapdish calls for the bell.




“Sheesh even the bell is low class.”


The four individuals circle the ring, more or less two stepping their way into a pattern. Not one to be patient, Jimmy lunges toward his opponents. Also not one to have 260 lbs chained to his ankle, Jimmy trips, smacking the cement like canvas with his face. Open for attack Manson looks to help out his deranged partner, taking a double dropkick instead.


“Early on it seems the crime fighting duo of SpYon are working good together.”


Falling into the ropes, Manson blocks a Zyon right kick to the ribcage. However, the Raging Bull never sees the left leg of Spike flatten him in the side of the head. Grabbing the heavyweight, the two cruiserweights hook Manson in a double front face lock. Unannounced to the baby face team of Spike and Zyon, Jimmy rises from the dead, jabbing Spike in the gut. Latching on to the Straight Edger, the Straight Breader tosses Spike to the side like yesterday’s prison bitch. Following his shackled partner, Zyon stumbles to the side, facing the horrifying sight of a lariat, Zyon has no choice but to nut up, and take the shot.




Zyon would normally rocket over the top rope, but with the weight of Spike pulling him down, Zyon’s body just crumbles to the mat. Manson the Stampede cautiously stomps Spike, who looks for a way to get back on his feet. Lifting Zyon back to his feet, Jimmy latches on to the arm of his opponent. The bitter Manson actually grins as he steps on the chain, which forces Spike and Zyon together like peanut butter and jelly…


…And we all know Jimmy hates peanut butter and jelly.


Performing your standard Irish whip, Jimmy pushes the youth forward into a dead sprint, that is until the chain doesn’t stretch anymore. A backward wave of momentum causes the youth to plunge to the mat face first!




With the Unique Youth out of the way for the moment, the Straight Bread Sensation focuses on the Straight Edger. Manson notices his “partner” coming toward the other part of the battlefield. Looking to make the most out of a situation, Manson shouts at his unorthodox partner.


“Hey let’s stomp this bastard!” Manson always has good intentions on his mind.


“Your doom will come swift and strong, like a river. A river of doom!” Jimmy the Doom retorts.


“What the fuck did you just say?”


“IM teh AwSTuuuuuMMMMmmm!”


Manson just stares at this outer worldly creature known as Jimmy the Doom.


“That guy act a fool, I tells ya.” A comment from one of the many faceless members of the audience.


Manson continues to stomp on Spike, until Jimmy lifts the former cruiserweight champion to his feet. Lifting the foot chained to Manson, Jimmy attempts a kick, but Spike catches it. Falling to the mat due to a lack of balance, Manson tries his damnest to get back to his feet. Twirling the Doomtopia native around, Spike grapples the awkward wrestler with a reverse waist lock. Making it back to his feet, Manson slithers his fingers through Spike’s short bleach blond hair, pulling his head backward. Unlatching the reverse waist lock, Spike tries to fight off his newest challenge, Manson the Stampede. Jimmy though turns around, forming himself into a crane position.


“CR…ok how about THWACK!”


With his own sound effect, Jimmy delivers the Yak Kick to the face of Spike Jenkins.


“Spike’s face just got waxed off by that STIFF Yak Kick.” King calls the move by its name.


Clutching his face, Spike bounces off the ropes, falling into Jimmy the Doom, who picks him up into a front slam position. Looking to co-exist with his partner, the Straight Breader tosses Spike toward a surprised Manson, who barely catches his opponent. Randomly jawing at his weird partner, Manson misses the memo that states…


“Watch your face."


From your friend, Tyrone.




Manson eats the foot of Zyon, who tackles Jimmy to the mat. Pulled to the mat by gravity, and the extending of a short chain, Manson struggles to kick out of the first pin attempt of the match.




Immediately busting out of the pin fall, Manson rises back to his feet as does Spike. On the mat, Zyon pummels Jimmy the Doom with a variety of rights and lefts. The aggressive Manson lunges toward Spike, who easily ducks and CATCHES A BACK ELBOW TO THE FACE!




“Citizen Spike so wanted a reverse waist lock right there.”


“But instead the fool caught a vicious elbow.”


Spike’s overanxiousness got the better of him as the veteran clutches his face, and then clutches his gut after receiving a knee to the gut. Palming Spike’s face in his hand, Manson intelligently pushes his opponent backward, causing Zyon to back off from the downed Jimmy the Doom. Catching the rising Zyon, Manson struggles to latch on a reverse waist lock. Using his superior speed, Zyon ducks and spins around, cradling the Raging Bull in a school boy!




“The cruisers are trying to use their speed to get the quick pinfall.”


“And I’d say it’s a fantastic strategy.”


“Yeah for foolish spot monkeys and a wannabe superhero.”


Both men hurry back to their feet, with the angry Manson charging forward with a blistering lariat. Valuing his head, Zyon ducks out of the way applying a drop toe hold. Landing on all fours, Manson once again forgets to protect his facial region as Spike comes out of nowhere with a basement dropkick! Both superstars go for the cover…










TWO…break up.


Jimmy the Doom saves his team from defeat by leaping into the air, and squishing team SpYon…and his partner Manson.




“Are they actually cheering?” Comet wonders aloud.


“Yep, only because some of these womanless men have been in that type of sandwich before.”


“Oh like the type that Jimmy hates.”


“Yes, Comet. That is definitely one Jimmy would not like. He is STRAIGHT Bread for a reason.”


Three of the four men roll away from Manson, who lies on the mat trying to catch his breath. Jimmy pulls himself to his feet, followed by Hollywood Spike Jenkins. Noticing he has the superior strength and in some areas, superior upbringing, Jimmy stomps forward. Fearless, Spike strides forward, smacking Jimmy across the face with a forearm shot to the face. Ignoring the pain that should be shooting through his face, Jimmy the Doom kicks Spike in the gut. Tapping him in a front face lock, Jimmy hoists Spike into the air vertically. As Spike goes up, so does his partner who is pushed back to his feet by the chain wrapped around Spike’s left leg. Tripping over himself, Zyon shoots forward, lowering his shoulder…AND MISSING COMPLETELY! The youth’s face smacks the turnbuckle, as Spike becomes a victim of a vertical suplex! Floating over on to one of his opponent’s Jimmy attempts a cover.











Far from ready to give up his team’s shot at From the Fire, Spike kicks out of the cover. The unorthodox man from Doomtopia suddenly smiles, as he charges toward Zyon, wrapping his arm around the youth’s head, and taking him over takedown style.


“God I hate calling this move.”


“What, a headlock takedown?”


“No, Comet. Things are much more complicated than that. The move is numerically known as the 73.5267.1094Q80.16. I don’t care if I expose the business, but to avoid looking like a nerd, yes I did read that from a card.


“Oh I see…”


Wrapping his lanky arm around the head of his opponent, Jimmy the Doom continues to squeeze the life out of his opponent. Using his infinite wisdom found in the ONLY library in Doomtopia, Jimmy bends his body, hiding the choke from Dick Soapdish. Unlike his brother, Dick Soapdish doesn’t find Zyon’s now purple face to be a cause of warning. Feeling the chain on the other end go limp, Spike rushes over to his partner’s aid, plunging his foot into the head of Jimmy the Doom. Discarding Zyon to the side, Jimmy focuses his attention on the oncoming kicks to his head. The other end of the Straight Breader’s chain begins to make a ruckus…




“Manson returns with a cold smack to Spike’s back.”


Spike’s instant offense comes to an instant halt, as the Straight Edger is stinging from the cheap shot. Tossing Spike toward the turnbuckle, Manson rushes forward anticipating Spike’s collision with the turnbuckle. Once again, the notorious chain comes into effect, stopping Spike’s momentum. Manson on the other hand has a tad bit more length than Spike, since his partner is closer. Hearing the rattling of a nearby chain and the loud stomps of Manson the Stampede, Spike instinctively twists blasting his opponent with a Roaring Elbow!




The shot echoes over the prison…to no response.


“Shit, that’s a bitch hit…bitch!” Obviously an inmate who can do a better Roaring Elbow.


Ignoring the psychotic prisoners, Spike drops on the stunned Manson.













“Manson shows that he and Jimmy haven’t lost focus on the Lethal Lottery tournament.”


“Comet, we both know Manson is borderline emo, and Jimmy…belongs here with the rest of the psychos.”


“That’s just a tad harsh King, I’m sure I can use my powers of the mind to find some type of conviction.”


“And I’m sure you can’t. Comet, you are probably the only man who believes he is a superhero, but no matter what you can cook up inside that microscopic brain of yours, you are the only superhero with no super powers…the end.” King brings the harsh comments.


Both Spike and Manson rise back to their feet as Zyon sneaks up behind the Raging Bull. Well he would have snuck up on him if he didn’t have 220 lbs of Spike Jenkins shackled to him.




Totally grounded by the “brokeback gimmick” of the chain, Zyon is simply used as a decoy. As Manson’s fist thrusts into the face of the other former cruiserweight champion, Spike hurries forward, sliding his shoulder under the chin of his opponent.


“Isn’t this called the Minor Threat?” Comet has been away for far too long.


“Yes it is…batman would have known that.” King with a cheap shot since we all know the goddamn batman knows everything and anything.


Before Spike can drop to his knees, Jimmy actually does succeed at sneaking up on someone, striking Spike in the back. Putting the left knee into the back of Spike, while the other remains chained to the right foot of his partner, Jimmy falls backward, driving the air out of Spike with a one legged lung blower. With Spike out of commission, Zyon takes it upon himself to quickly drop Manson with a sloppy version of the Minor Threat!!


“That punk is a poser.” Are the inmates getting more dialogue than King and Comet?


Leaning toward the fallen Manson, the youth feels something or someone tug at his hair. Turning to see the individual, the term something would work just as good as someone. Breaking free of Jimmy’s arrogant grip, Zyon flattens his hand before unleashing a hellacious chop.




Jimmy however is the no sell king of his homeland as he quickly fires back with a chop of his own.




Zyon’s facial expression of “oh my god I was just shot” gets over with the hardcore audience who laugh at Zyon’s misfortune. Moving away from his partner, Jimmy extends the chain as he hoists a stunned Zyon into the air. Looming over the chain, Zyon makes a swift decision…




A brutal elbow to the face would send Jimmy staggering backward, but the chain is extended as far as it can go. Barely able to keep his balance, Jimmy can’t keep Zyon in his clutches as the youth slides down his back. Trapping Jimmy in a full nelson, Zyon uses his free right leg, hooking it over Jimmy’s leg. With a heave forward, the youth drives Jimmy to the canvas face first!


“You want to see something cool!”


Zyon shouts out to the riotous audience.


“Is he insane?” King questions.


Smiling, Zyon directions himself toward the turnbuckle until he can’t move another step. Looking down, Zyon motions for Spike to get up, but the Straight Edger signals for Zyon to stay off the top rope.




The unorganized groups of thugs answer back with a resounding jeer. Spike finally makes it back to his feet as he and his partner come to verbal blows. While the ego’s collide, Manson the Stampede emerges from the shadows, lunging toward the cruiserweight team. In the knick of time, the two individuals leap into the air, clothesline Manson with the chain that shackles them together!!!


“I must say that was inventive. Maybe even super inventive.”


“Super inventive. Lame phrases like that will get us killed.” King desperately points out.


Rolling around on the mat, Manson clutches his throat as the two former cruiserweight champions turn their attention to a now standing Jimmy the Doom. Jimmy charges forward, almost falling into the same trap as his partner…




The two would dazzle a normal audience with the leap, but the thugs watch on as Jimmy ducks under the decapitating chain! Amazed that Jimmy was able to dodge the flashy leapfrog, both Zyon and Spike land on the mat, unbalanced. Extending his lanky arms, Jimmy grapples both men by the head, forcing the two into one another.




Falling backward, Spike clutches his head as his body drowns into the ropes. Zyon on the other hand, finds himself in a reverse waist lock, which is quickly transitioned into a back drop. What may have been too quick, Jimmy struggles with the back drop, until Zyon finds himself safely on the mat. Staggering backward, Zyon tries to regain his balance while pulling the man stuck to him toward the Straight Bread Sensation. Still in a daze from the head to head collision with his friend, Spike snaps his foot into the air…shanking Jimmy the Doom in the face with the dreaded Yakuza Kick!




Jimmy drops to the mat as Zyon immediately pulls himself on to the top rope. Unaware of Zyon’s motives, Spike continues to march forward, facing off against the now standing Manson.




The Unique Youth shouts toward his partner who accidentally dragged Zyon off the ropes. Turning away, Spike takes his focus off the menacing Manson for just a moment…and pays for it! Like lightning, the Raging Bull not known for his speed, quickly wraps Spike up in a reverse waist lock, tossing him backward with a RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX!!! Spike’s neck lands in dangerous angle as the barely conscious Straight Edger rolls out of the ring, and to the floor. While Spike attempts to regain consciousness, Zyon stands in the ring, sweating bullets. He is possible the quickest man in the fed, next to the acrobatic Wildchild, but at this moment…he’s fucked. Standing over the ropes, the youth shouts for Spike to wake up since the man from Hollywood is nothing more than dead weight. Grinning from ear to ear, Manson slowly stalks the half frightened speedster.


“Oh that nigga dead.” Random babbling (truth?) from an inmate convicted of possibly raping, murdering, or forcing his victim to sit through a Rush Hadrian match.


“Comet maybe you should use your so called super powers to heal these men of their apparent color blindness. Zyon is in no way black. I personally think he is yellow, but definitely not black.”


“Yellow? King you sure have a weird outlook on cowardness. I usually find myself facing off against true cowards out in the world, and Zyon is not one of them.”




“But he may end up taking quite the beating.” Comet adds.


Clubbing the youth in the back, Manson continues to lower the boom until Zyon’s legs buckle. Falling to both knees, the youth is left open for a Manson beat down. Strangely enough, the Raging Bull pauses, throwing his chained leg around Zyon’s throat, wrapping his part of the chain around the youth’s throat. With his arms flailing and his face turning a dark mauve, Zyon’s eyes begin to roll into the back of his head. Realizing that calling the match down the middle will give him parole opportunities, referee Dick Soapdish immediately orders Manson to break the hold.


“I’ll DQ you on the spot, homey.”


Dick skips the usual five count, causing Manson to slowly lift his leg back over the head of his opponent.




Zyon chokes on the new air instilled into his lungs. With a hand full of hair, Manson lifts Zyon up, tossing him into the turnbuckle. When things look as if they couldn’t get any worse, Jimmy the Doom staggers toward the battle area. With his earlier attempts to communicate blowing up in his face, Manson ignores his beyond weird partner, opting to pummel the Unique Youth instead.






The prisoners of San Quentin roar with joy, as Zyon is defenseless to the pounding he is receiving.




Or not. Zyon shows a brief sign of life with a weak forearm strike.




But Jimmy the Doom elbows the comeback right in the face. Dramatically cowering in the corner, Zyon puts his arms up, doing all he can to avert the powerful blows that follow.




Punch to the face.




Knee to the gut.




Double chop to the now blistering chest of Zyon.


“This is awful. I should do something.”


“Don’t even…on second thought, follow in Pete’s footsteps and get your ass kicked. Then take as much time as you need off to train for your eminent revenge. While you do this, you will not only defend your honor, but you will be far away from me.” King concludes.


Security tenses as drones of inmates try to barrage the ring, where Spike pulls himself to his feet, and on to the apron. Noticing the revival of Mr. Jennykins, Manson takes a wild swing that the quicker Spike dodges. Pulling back, Spike launches his shoulder toward the sternum region of Manson…SCORE! Doubled over Manson can’t prevent Spike from slingshotting himself over the ropes, rolling the Raging Bull up with a startling sunset flip.



















“He’s got him!”












“Oh that straight edge pussy was robbed worst than Andre.”




“Yeah hommy. Andre had his toothbrush, toilet paper, and his Pokemon cards stolen last week.”


“Someone took his Pokemon cards. That shit is cold, yo.”


The convicts converse, and Spike takes a SWANK kick to the face from the lengthy Doomtopian native. Clutching his face, Spike slowly pulls himself to his feet, gaining the attention of the Straight Bread Sensation. Groggy from the harsh kick to the face, Spike is unable to dodge the lariat heading in his direction; however, he does change the move from a lariat to…the…MINOR THREAT…OR…NOT! Elbowing his way free of the Spike Jenkins favorite, Jimmy wraps both his hands around the throat of his opponent. Grinding his teeth, the Straight Breader hoists Spike into the air for the conventionally titled Jimmy Bomb.




Firing his left leg upward, Spike drills Jimmy with a knee to the gut, immediately doubling the lanky competitor over, and into a standing head scissors. Oh shit.


“Oh god, don’t let him hit the Ratings Crash!” King pleads.


“YEAH…and shit!”


The tough inmates show their true emotion as Spike’s eyes grow and then roll into the back of his head from an ultra powerful WEST SIDE LARIAT, YO!!!!!






“Damnit Pete isn’t even here, and those words continue to haunt me.” King is about to cry.


A human bobble head, Spike falls to the mat motionless. The heel team of Manson and Jimmy rise to their feet, wondering which one will take the academic pin. With calculating and careful deduction the answer is…neither.


“Guys turn around!” King shouts toward Manson and his awkward partner.


Perched on the SECOND rope, Zyon leaps of with an unsuccessful cross body block! The bitter and weird tandem coexists as they look to force Zyon upward. Twisting his body from a horizontal to a vertical stance, Zyon hooks the two in a front face lock, dropping them down fluidly with a double DDT!!!!


“YEEEEAAHHHHH…that was tight.”


Clutching the small lacerations around his neck from the earlier chain rape, (figuratively speaking of course) Zyon forces himself back to his feet. Aware of the fact that Spike has become dead weight again, the youth hopes for the victory or to kill some time with a lateral press.









Jimmy raises the shoulder, so Zyon plops on the angry Manson.












TWO…denied again!


Pounding the mat, Zyon realizes he wasted maybe four seconds, and worse yet…the resilient Jimmy the Doom is back on his feet.




As per usual, Zyon meets the challenge head on with a forearm to his opponent’s face. Jimmy simply shrugs the move off like your common prison bitch…




Slowly running out of options, Zyon tries again…same effect. Twitching, Zyon prepares to go into a defensive mode as the Straight Bread Sensation busts out the MOST CROOKED SMILE EVER!!!!!


…And then slams his head into the face of his opponent.




Zyon shouts, blood pouring from his nose. The strange being from Doomtopia smiles as Zyon drops to both knees.


“DOES HE HAVE A SOUL!” Comet shouts.


“DOES HE HAVE A BRAIN???” King wonders cause that was one hell of a head BUTT.



“DOES HE HAVE ANY CRACK!!??” Holy shit Farmboy!


Security immediately hoists the crack head up and escort him to the exit or the nearest electric chair…same difference.


Lifting Zyon from his kneeling position, Jimmy slams the youth the mat with a furious JIMMY BOMB!!! Obviously he goes for the cover.





















TH…Break up.


Oh that pesky Spike Jenkins. With a simple kick to the head, Spike stops his team’s defeat. Looking for the mosquito that just bit him, Jimmy rises back to his feet. The man, who despises all things but plain bread, lunges toward his drug free opponent.




Deadly with his feet, Spike strikes the Doomtopian gold medallist in the hamstring. Spike strikes again, with the next kick to be the knock out blow, but…Jimmy is still very much on his feet. Fearless, Spike unloads a barrage of kicks to the leg that have the sole purpose to set up the knock out blow.




Jimmy fights through the variety of sharp kicks to show Spike his own knockout blow…DOUBLE PALM STRIKE…BIATCH! Spike falls to the mat, scooting away from the seemingly, indestructible Jimmy the Doom. Coming from the side, Zyon emerges off the canvas, and into the sternum of his opponent with a shoulder block. Manson also makes his presence felt with a shoulder block that sends Zyon flying to the mat! The cocky Raging Bull throws the devil horns in the air…


“Yeah ROCK ON!” A few hardcore inmates cheer.


Turning his cruel eyes to Spike…to the foot of Spike…and then to the lights as he falls back, a victim of the Last Dance super kick! Flailing backward, Zyon’s limp body pulls Spike away from Manson. Taking a page from the Hollywood native’s book, Jimmy reverts himself into the match, striking Spike in the leg twice. Falling to a kneel position, Spike must either be praying, or must be prepared to have his head taken clean off. Winding up, the martial artist expert known to some as the Fed Killer swings his unchained leg around, straight up KILLING…NOTHING!


“He ducked the kick…how?”


“Well King, it is his own move.” Comet brilliantly points out


The chain locked to the foot of Jimmy rattles violently as the Straight Breader spins around, leaving himself open for attack. Spike for some odd reason, plays it safe, Irish whipping his lanky opponent into the turnbuckle, extending the chain as far as possible. Staggering back to his feet, Zyon observes his partner who kneels on the mat…on all fours. Planting his foot into the mat, Zyon bounds forward, getting two strides as he leaps off the back of Spike, and crash legs first into Jimmy with a spectacular tag team maneuver. All four men are obviously fatigued, even the well conditioned Jimmy the Doom who drops to one knee….oh shit.




And Spike is able to just obliterate his opponent with a buzz saw kick to the face!


“He was waiting to do that all night…and my god WHAT A SHOT!” King mimics the absent Longdogga.


The inmates ranging from crazy to misunderstood, go wild as Spike falls on to Jimmy the Doom! Zyon stomps the downed Manson…



















“NO WAY!” Comet is truly shocked.


Zyon turns to see Spike pulling at his hair. The other half of the heel team takes this opportunity to rise back to his feet, wrapping Zyon up in a reverse waist lock. Squirming, Zyon almost transitions into one of his own, but the chain that brings Spike and Zyon together is all like NO POBO! Struggling to reacquaint Zyon with the reverse waist lock, Manson fixes the youth with a full nelson! Attempting to snap the youth in many disorganized pieces, Manson makes the former cruiserweight champion, FEEL THE POWER!!! Spike hurries to his feet, and then to his partner, kicking Manson in the back. The weak strike does enough damage to break the hold as Zyon falls to the mat, clutching the back of his neck. Looking to take on the bitter warrior before he is on guard, Spike lunges forward. Lowering himself, Manson pushes Spike up toward the ropes for a hot shot, but the chain halts his momentum! Spike misses the ropes as he sloppily drops to the mat, landing on his hands.




Booting Spike in the ribs, the aggravated Raging Bull lifts Spike back to his feet. With nothing else left, Spike reaches back into his Revolution Zero days…






Manson roars, grabbing at the eyes that were just stabbed, by the index finger of his opponent. Back on his feet, Zyon sneaks up on the furious Manson, tranquilizing the beast with a reverse front face lock…successfully transitioned into a stunner!!!!


“Wicked Cutter performed by the always exciting Zyon.”


“Yeah he’s exciting. An exciting liability.”


Spike retreats into a random corner as Jimmy reaches out for Zyon, who strikes the Straight Bread Sensation with another forearm!




Like a zombie, Jimmy plows forward, his eyes on the prize. With his mind set on one destination, Jimmy lunges forward…




…Into a tremendous FLASH KICK! Unable to perform the back flip, Zyon lands back first on the mat to a sick thud!


“The chain stopped Zyon from performing the back flip that follows such a kick.” Comet brings the psychology or the street smarts as if it was told to the prisoners.


Using what is left of his will, Zyon pulls himself up…only to see Jimmy…clutching his face…on his feet! Totally beside himself, Zyon drags himself to his feet, with his arms down at his side. Snapping his head forward, Jimmy lunges forward, blasting Zyon with a knee to the gut! Blood continue to drip from the youth’s nose as the air leaves his lungs. Spike looking like the scum of the Earth at this point watches as Jimmy sets Zyon up for the DOOOOOOOOOOOM FACTOR!




Spike who would seem to be right at home, breaks from his scummy mold to strike Jimmy in the back. Once again, the Doomtopian native searches for the mosquito, while charging Spike. The chain unravels as Jimmy’s eyes expand. Spike drops down exposing two things…


…His Toxxic rip off, (Which would be a Landon gimmick rip off perhaps?) sliding soccer tackle…


…And the exposed turnbuckle that no longer has any padding on it.


Everything seems to go in slow motion or the more popularly phrased “Bullet Time” motion. Tripping Jimmy with the sliding tackle, Spike rises back to his feet to see the lanky Straight Breader toast himself against the steel cable that is exposed to the world!!!


“What the…” King trails off.


Referee Dick Soapdish claim what many in the prison claim, there are no witnesses or evidence to DQ someone. The former ref turned convict missed the snakelike Jenkins tear the padding off.


He is right at home after all.


Spike though CAN NOT BELIEVE HIS TIRED EYES as Jimmy remains on his feet. The Straight Edger rubs his eyes, just to make sure. The spaghetti legged warrior turns…


“Spike watch out!”


Spike’s inmate/friend weakly calls out as MANSON IS ON THE WAR PATH! Striding forward, the chains begin to overlap as Manson the Stampede whips his arm backward, firing it forward. Zyon’s warning echoes as Spike lowers his head…




…But Jimmy does not. The WEST SIDE DRIVE BY LARIAT BLOWS JIMMY AWAY!!! Collapsing to the mat, Jimmy is motionless.




The active convicts shout, loving the show they have been presented. Spike realizes that Zyon may have seen the cheat all along, but he will do anything in his power to keep him happy. Imprisoning the stunned Manson in a reverse face lock, Spike spins spiking the Raging Bull into the mat with the CLEAN LIVING!


“CLEAN LIVING!” Comet brings the emphasis.


Rolling Manson on his back, Spike pulls Zyon to his feet? Whispering to his misguided partner, Spike and Zyon agree to go to the top rope? Carefully ascending the ropes, Spike and Zyon balance themselves on each side of the turnbuckle. The cruiserweights in perfect unison take a chance, Zyon leaping with a splash, and Spike dropping the bomb with a guillotine leg drop…AND IT PAYS OFF! Manson is absolutely annihilated by the top rope attacks as Zyon stays on for the cover.




























“What a match…I did not expect that out of these guys!” Comet is all smiles.


“I agree with you there. Despite the obstacle of the shackles, and the uncommon styles of the four men, they still put on a hell of match. BUT how in the hell did Soapdish miss the exposed turnbuckle?”


“He was busy with Zyon who continues to bleed from his nose. And he couldn’t call the actual attack since it was classified as accidental.” Comet explains.


The inmates who for one night run the asylum give the match a thumbs up. Fatigued from the match Spike and Zyon exit the ring, breaking through the respectful crowd with little struggle.


Looking back Zyon can’t help, but notice the exposed turnbuckle. Turning to Spike who soaks up the admiration, the Unique Youth accepts the fact that they are going to From the Fire on a possible fluke…


…Now about that possibly busted nose…


FADE TO… two inmates fighting.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

In a change of pace we’re taken from ringside to backstage where Bruce is taping up his fists in preparations for his imminent Ultraviolent battle with the Crimson Skull. Bruce is berating Wayne as we fade in.


“What the hell were you thinking giving the Skull a title match this close to From the Fire?” Bruce says as he glares at Wayne.


“You can take him Bro, I know you can” Wayne says trying to get off the hook by buttering up his older brother.


“I’ve beat him before I’m sure I can beat him again. But that’s not what I’m talking about! You booked me in a title match right before the PPV! I can’t believe you did that!”


“Well… “ Wayne says sheepishly


“Hold on” Bruce says as he sees the expression on Wayne’s face


Bruce gets up, tears off the tape to finish his hand wrapping and then walks over to where Wayne is sitting and stares down at him.


“How much?”


“How much what?” Wayne asks looking all innocently.


“How much did he pay you for the title match, come on Wayne I know you and how you operate.”


Bruce stares at Wayne for a moment, then Wayne cracks up in a smile and cops to it.


“Alright, alright yes he did give me something in return for the title shot – but it wasn’t money, it’s much MUCH better” Wayne says as he gets up.




“I’ll show you” Wayne says and then opens his locker.


Wayne pulls out the black box and places it on the table in front of Bruce and pads it all secretively as he smiles.


“You know I’m sure it’s a nice box and all but that’s it?” Bruce asks a little puzzled, his brother isn’t usually that easily bribed.


“Oh no, no, no, no no! That’s far from “it” brother of mine. You see Heff came to me all desperate and needy and what do we do with needy and desperate people?”


“We take them for all they’ve got” Bruce says with Wayne mouthing it at the same time like it was a lesson they’d been taught from childhood.


“And I did, I got something for YOU, something totally awesome that is worth a title shot fer sure bro. I got the Crimson Skull’s most deadly weapon” Wayne says and opens the box


Bruce just stands there and stares down at the weapon in a box, first he’s surprised, then he smiles and wipes a little tear from the corner of his eye as he obviously approves of the trade.


“That’s… “ is all Bruce can say


“Yeah I know, how could I pass THAT beauty up huh? Now I had to promise you wouldn’t use it on Crimson Skull tonight but otherwise it’s fair game” Wayne says as he closes the lid


“Wayne… do you know where the Arizona Hockey Arena is?” Bruce asks with a devious grin.




“Excellent cause this needs to be there in 6 days” Bruce says and points to the box.


“Now if you’ll excuse me” Bruce says and straps the barbwire wrapped blood red leather strap around his waist, adjusting it to get it just right. Then he quickly grabs up his beat up old cowboy hat from a peg on the wall and puts it on as he heads out the door


“It’s Clobberin’ time”

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

”Everybody Dance now ... ”




“Boo? They boo the Skullettes?” King asks as the girls have NEVER gotten that reaction before even in San Francisco.


“You forget where we are citizen, these miscreants would probably rather cheer guys in tiny shorts” Cyclone explains.


”Everybody Dance now ... ”






The entire Cellblock 40 cheers loudly as 6 male “Skullettes” come out from one of the cells clad in tiny shorts, cut off shirts and golden pom-poms that they shake enthusiastically for their captive audience. Funyon tries his best to not be distracted / sickened by the display of jiggling asses and oiled up biceps as he begins his introductions.


“Ladies and Gentlemen the following match is for the SWF ULTRAVIOLENT TITLE! Coming to you LIVE from death row right here in San Quentin and it is a Hell in a Ceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeellblock 40 match!!” Funyon starts out, setting the stage for the introduction of the two participants.


“Introducing the challenger – from Parts Unknown, Via Kiev in the Ukraine he is the Master of Mayhem, the former ruler of Switzerland for a day and voted “Villain of the year” in 1989, this can only be the CRIMSOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON SKULL!!!”


”Everybody Dance now ... ”




”Everybody Dance now ...”




Crimson Skull walks out from one of the cells on the ground level as the male Skullettes put the Nitro Girls to shame with a dazzling display of dis-cordination and lack of anything but T(riceps) & A(bdominal muscles). The Skull stops after taking a few steps out of the cell as one of the high powered search lights shines on the big man. Then he throws his cape back to reveal that he’s wearing a suit of armor on top of his regular wrestling gear.


“Oh you’ve GOT to be pulling my right leg of justice” Comet says as he sees the iron clad villain walk towards the center of the cellblock


“It’s Sir Skull of Crimson! I guess he smelled Bruce’s breath and decided to slay the dragon” King says with a snicker.


The Skull slowly walks to the center of the cellblock floor – there is no ring after all, the amour plate may slow him down but he looks near impervious as he stands there with the spotlight gleaming off the steel. Skull removes his cape and hands it to Heff who in return hands Skull his helmet, after all what’s a knight without a helmet?


“I have a bad feeling about this King, there is NO WAY this can end well but I am informed that the hospital infirmary is on standby” Cyclone says, not really worried about Bruce’s health since he doesn’t like him but more worried about how it could affects the citizens watching at home


The guitar opening to “Don’t ask me no questions” kicks in as Funyon puts the microphone back up to his mouth.


“And his opponent, the reigning and defending SWF Ultraviolent champion making his eleventh title defense – the “King of Pain” BRUCEEEEEEEEEEEEE BLAAAAAAAAAAANK!!!”




“This is like a home coming to Bruce, except for the gold around his belt it’s hard to tell the difference between him and the guys on the other side of the bars” King says pointing out that Bruce actually did time in San Quentin as revealed earlier tonight.


“You know what? Citizen Blank is at a severe disadvantage before the bell has even rung” Comet states.


“And this upsets YOU?” King asks.


“Well… It was a matter of time before someone to turn the tables on Bruce and use his own tactics against him but well it’s the Skull!!! The dirties of dirty players!” Comet says finding it hard to sit and commentate as one of his despised enemies does battle near by without him being involved.


Bruce comes bursting through the curtains of another cell looking 7 kinds of pissed off as he stares at Crimson Skull in his armor. Then he quickly adjusts his beat up cowboy hat, taps the Ultraviolent title around his waist and pulls out a little “equalizer” of his own.


“A barbwire bat? No, no, no Bruce you bring a lance to fight a knight” King says as Bruce reveals that he’s brought a barbwire wrapped baseball bat with him.




As he walks towards his opponent Bruce holds the baseball bat up in the air and points directly at Crimson Skull to indicate that he intends to use it on the Skull in just a matter of seconds. The armor plated Skull just stands in the spotlight with his hands on his hips laughing a maniacal, evil laugh.




“Even with the babwire bat I’m not sure Bruce can counter the armor King, I mean he’s covered in metal from head to toe like a walking tank! How can Bruce even hurt him?” Cyclone laments because he’s hoping that someone – ANYONE beats up the vile Crimson Skull.


“A can opener? Maybe he’ll spray him with water and wait for the Skull to rust? I don’t know what he can do – that’s the brilliance of Crimson Skull’s plans.”


Bruce steps into the searchlights that illuminate the center of the floor where the Skull is waiting. Skull just stands there laughing maniacally as Bruce keeps a close eye on any sudden moves from his opponent.


“And introducing the special guest referee for the match – BennerCorps latest release in their Artificial Humanoid line now with HebnerXP this is GHOOOOOOOST MACHINEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE VEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-TWOAH!!”





Road Agent Chris Belcourt opens a cell door and then pushes out a dolly with Ghost Machine V2.0 on it looking like he’d rather be somewhere else – which is probably especially true tonight. Ghost Machine V2.0 seems to have an add-in installed tonight as he’s wearing a striped referee shirt over his normal purple body suit.




“And heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere we go, the SWF version of Dungeons and Dragons – with Bruce playing the part of the smelly dragon of course” King says


“Ironic” Comet says


“What? How is that ironic?”


“Well Wayne is the one who likes to dress like a dragon, yet you called Bruce the dragon.” Cyclone explains


“That’s not ironic you super dork! It would be ironic if Bruce has been battling dragons or something and now I call HIM a dragon” King says adding something about how that “Ironic song blew”


Belcourt quickly unstraps the Ghost Machine from the dolly as he hears the bell rings and then runs for the door wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of there. Ghost Machine just stands there totally immobile as Bruce and Skull prepare to fight.




The Skull invites Bruce to hit him with his best shot as he’s got all the confidence in the world that the armor will protect him. Bruce hesitates thinking it’s a trap but then he raises the barbwire wrapped bat in the air and takes a swing at the Skull




The Crimson Skull raises his left arm and deflects the blow with the armor feeling no ill effects of the blow at all. Then Skull quickly counters with a metal clad fist to Bruce’s jaw.




The punch sends Bruce back against the steel bars which seem to be the only thing preventing him from falling flat on his ass. Skull moves rather slowly because of the heavy armor and has only taken 2 steps before Bruce is able to let go of the steel bars and stand on his own two feet. Once again Bruce grips the baseball bat and swings at the Crimson Skull




Another block




And another fist to the jaw of Bruce, this one sends the big man up against the concrete wall where he has to grab on to whatever he can to stay up he’s on rubber leg street from the two metal assisted blows he’s taken. Normally Skull would have rushed his opponent and attacked Bruce but he’s weighed down by the 50-60 pounds of armor and thus just stands there and waits for Bruce to come at him, after all he’s in no rush as he’s clearly in charge of the match.


“You know it’s nice to get a break from the Cruiserweight action here with two power houses battling it out in the ring” King says pointing out that in the SWF the big men are actually the exception and not the rule.


Bruce wipes a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and then gets back on the attack swinging the bat once more hoping to catch the Skull off guard




Skull puts a hand up to block the bat and then takes another swing at Bruce, but this time Bruce is onto him and ducks under the fist and then drives his shoulder square into the Skull’s mid-section driving him to the ground with a loud thud. Bruce quickly rolls off Skull and clutches his shoulder in agony proving once again that metal is stronger than flesh.


“Did Citizen Blank just use his brain?” Cyclone says totally surprised.


“I think he did, no wonder he caught the Skull off guard” King blurts out.


Even though his shoulder is hurting Bruce is the first one to get back to his feet as the Skull just kinda lays there flat on his back. Bruce takes a 3 step lead and then kicks the Skull with the tip of his steel toed cowboy boot




The kick knocks the helmet off the Skull and Bruce quickly makes sure that the helmet is moved out of the Skull’s reach by kicking it down the other end of the cell block. The Ultraviolent champion turns around and looks at the Crimson Skull who’s struggling to turn over on his side due to the weight of the armor. He tries to roll left, then right, then back left again as his legs thrash in the air.


“They should call him the Crimson “Turtle” from now on” Cyclone says glibly enjoying the sight of his enemy in such a comical position.


“Have some compassion for the pool Skull” King replies.


“NEVER!!” Comet says


After a couple of more tries Skull manages to roll over on his stomach and then get up on his hands and knees. This is the opening Bruce has been waiting for as he grabs the baseball bat again and brings it down hard across Skull’s back




Knocking the Skull to the ground from the downward push but otherwise doesn’t look like it hurt him that much as he’s quickly able to get back onto his hands and knees.






A second and a third shot with the baseball bat has a similar effect, it knocks Skull down flat on his stomach but he’s quickly back on his hands and knees, trying to get back to his feet. Bruce throws the bat down in frustration and then simply pokes the Crimson Skull in the eyes to stop him from getting back up.


“That’s one body part you can’t cover in armor plating” King simply states.


“That was pure desperation on Citizen Blank’s part King definitely not something I Cyclone Comet could ever condone”


“Yeah but sometimes desperation works – I mean Longdogger Pete is ugly as sin yet some woman was desperate enough to sleep with him” King fires off getting a little shot in at his regular commentator partner.


Bruce has pulled the Skull’s head in between his knees and is now trying to lift the massive villain and his armor up for a pile driver. His first attempt fails before it even really begins, then Bruce reaches around and manages to actually hook his arms around the Skull’s waist and tries to raise him up once more.


“I can’t believe he’s stupid enough to try this foolish ploy.” Cyclone says forgetting for a moment that Bruce isn’t exactly a genius.


“He’s--- no way he’s doing it!” King yells out as Bruce ever so slowly begins to lift Crimson Skull off the ground into a pile driver position.


The physical exertion is clearly written on Bruce’s face, which is red and contorted as he puts every single bit of power he has into pulling Skull up so that he’s upside down with his head wedged between Bruce’s knees. Bruce barely manages to get the Skull up in the right position before the strain is too much and he drops the metal clad villain back down again.


“Skull just averted disaster if he had been pile driven like that it could have broken his neck – I mean with the concrete and the extra weight of the armor” King says.


While Bruce is trying to catch is breath and the Skull is trying to get back to his feet someone throws something from one of the upper levels. Bruce quickly picks it up and sees that it’s the handle of a toothbrush with a razor blade wedged in it.


“IT’S A SHANK!!” King says with a mixture of surprise and dread.


“Oh come on now that has no place in the SWF or in civilized society in general”


“Except that it’s perfectly legal in the Ultraviolent division Cyclone” King explains.




The bloodthirsty inmates on death row are actually chanting for Bruce to shank the Skull, a chant that’s fortunately bleeped out on TV by the third “shank him” chant as the producers scramble in the back. Bruce just smiles as he holds the shank in his hand, then he reaches down and cuts the Skull on either side of the torso




But Bruce didn’t actually draw blood, he cut the leather straps that held the Skull’s check and back plates in place. After cutting off the chest plate Bruce grabs Skull by one of the legs and then quickly cuts off the straps for the leg armor and yanks it off. Bruce holds the leg armor up in the air and roars in celebration


Only to have the celebration cut sort as the Skull kicks back with the other foot, the metal clad foot and knocks Bruce back against a cell door.




With much less armor on Skull is able to move quicker and thus presses the attack as he’s got Bruce on the ropes… well the bars. Skull puts both of his still metal enhanced hands around Bruce’s throat and starts to squeeze as he also pushes the big man backwards trying to shove Bruce’s skull through the bars.




“These citizens are barbarians!” Comet says as he’s horrified by their behavior.


“It’s death row! What did you expect? Tea parties and doilies??” King says sarcastically.


Through out all the fighting the Ghost Machine has remained totally motionless until this very moment. His head turns, assesses the situation and then walks over to where the Skull is busy choking the life out of Bruce against the bars.


“Do… you … submit?” A metallic voice asks


Bruce doesn’t say anything – he can’t as he’s quite busy being choked out by the Skull. Bruce tries to strike the Skull’s hands but they’re still armor plated so the attempt is to no avail. As Bruce’s face turns red he tries one last desperate act as he extends his index and middle finger and then blindly thrusts them towards Crimson Skull’s face


“ARRH YOU SON OF A BITCH!!” Skull screams as Bruce manages to poke Skull in the eye (and the nose but let’s not go there)


“You know King I’ve had my eye on Citizen Blank for a long time, I mean just last week in his tag-team match I noted down 82 rule infractions in my Notebook of Justice” Cyclone says disapproving of Bruce’s cheap tactics.


“Notebook of Justice? So do you have a Laptop of Order as well?” King says with a snigger


“Yes” Comet answers deadpan.


With Skull temporarily blinded Bruce is able to grab the big man by his shirt and toss him back first against the next cell in the row.




Unlike the previous cell this one is actually occupied which the Skull soon discovers as 4 hands reach out, grab him and then begins to pull him back hard against the bars stopping him from moving. Bruce can’t help but smile as he sees how the death row prisoners are actually helping him. Taking a moment to bask in the first totally positive reaction he’s ever gotten Bruce stands on the middle of the ground level and yells up at the 4 levels of cells above of him.






“He had to go to jail to find someone who likes him, that tells me a lot about the character and integrity of Citizen Blank” Cyclone notes with disapproval.


“COME ON BABY LIGHT MY FIRE!!” Bruce yells at the inmates and they’re not slow to respond, moments later burning rolls of toilet paper and other flammable material is thrown from the cells as the prisoners cheer and holler and bang on the steel bars in support of Bruce.


“Thank god those degenerates are all in cages” King says


“You be careful, they may hear you say that” Comet warns.


“They’re on death row! They’re not getting out” King replies with a grin.


“Unless they win an appeal… or escape” Cyclone comments and thus wipes the grin off King’s face.


Bruce just stands in the middle of the burning debris and smiles at the mayhem he’s brought to Cellblock 40. Unfortunately the riot doesn’t last as one of the guards quickly enters the section and fires off two warning shots in the air.




“Settle down or we’ll break out the teargas!!” the guard yells and it seems to help as the inmates stop throwing stuff and quiet down a bit.


Bruce grins as he turns his attention back towards Crimson Skull, but the gunfire and the warning from the guard meant that the two prisoners in the cell have released the Skull and he’s running at Bruce at full speed




The impact drives both Bruce and Crimson Skull into another empty cell where the villainous Skull begins to pound away at Bruce with his armored right first. Bruce tries as best he can to cover up but some of the shots manage to hit Bruce’s face and others strike his shoulder and arm instead, less harmful but still painful. Skull’s movement is still a little obstructed by the leg armor on his right leg making it impossible for him to get down on his knees and really strike Bruce but he soon rectifies the situation by pulling the armor off and then he strikes Bruce with it instead sending the various pieces in the leg armor flying left and right




“Look at the brutality! I mean did you ever think you would see such atrocity on death row” Cyclone asks.


“Frankly? Yeah”


Skull pulls Bruce back to his feet and then wraps his hands around Bruce’s throat once more, but this time he doesn’t go for the “Pop your Skull” instead he gathers all his strength and manages to raise Bruce in the air for a double handed choke before throwing Bruce onto the lower bunk.




Bruce’s body weight aided by the Crimson Skull’s toss sends the Ultraviolent champion crashing through the lower bunk to the ground. Skull quickly covers his opponent hoping for a title winning three count.


“Do… you … submit?” Ghost Machine just asks as he stands there instead of getting down to count.


“This… entity does not seem to have a grasp of the rules” Cyclone deducts


“Not exactly no, but then again he’s not had an easy time these last few weeks, he’s taken more abuse than Landon Maddix’ mother Bwa, ha, ha, ha.” King says “In fact it was his loss to Bruce that started that downward spiral.


Frustrated with the lack of count Crimson Skull gets off Bruce and drags the Trailerpark Messiah back to his feet as well. Then with a devious laugh he places Bruce against the cell opening and rams the sliding cell door straight into Bruce’s chest




Bruce barely manages to get his hands up to block the door and takes the heavy door straight on the fingers and chest with a sickening thud. Skull is a great believer that a bad deed should be repeated and thus he slams the door into Bruce once more and then pushes on it to try and crush Bruce between the cell door and the wall.




“Do… you … submit?” Ghost Machine asks like he has no idea what the words actually mean.


“Well NOW it makes sense” Cyclone says.


“He’s caught like a rat in a trap, Crimson Skull has him just where he wants him” King says and he’s got a very good point.


Skull reaches through the bars with his left arm and uses the leverage to push the door forward even harder. But the moment Ghost Machine notices the metal on the Skull’s left arm he walks over to the cell, taps it with a knuckle before stating


“ILLEGAL!! ILLEGAL!!” loudly and then he begins to tear and tug at Skull’s left arm armor with enough force to distract the big man.


“He should have done that when that vile Skull walked out” Cyclone says.


“It’s technically NOT illegal, Ghost Machine is just one screwed up application” King says reminding people that EVERYTHING is technically legal in this match.


Skull finally reaches over and unstraps the arm armor just to get Ghost Machine off his back. Ghost Machine yanks the metal off the Skull’s arm and then just stands there looking at it. After a moment of computations he takes the armor with his right hand and then gives it to himself. Then a moment later he gives it back to himself and begins to repeat the pattern.


“Okay King what in the name of the Bald Eagle of Truth is he doing?”


“Erm… “ Is all King can say – he seems to have forgotten the glitch that played a part of Bruce’s match against Ghost Machine. Every time he gets his hands on a weapon he hands it to a referee, only now HE is the referee.


Skull lets go of the cell door and instead strikes Bruce in the face once again with a metal clad right hand, making Bruce’s already frightening crimson mask even worse. Skull looks up at the walkway above him and an idea form in his head, an evil idea of course..


“I think the Skull wants to see if Bruce can fly… can you fly Comet?” King asks jokingly


“Don’t be absurd – I got my Cyclone Cycle for that” Comet responds totally deadpan.


Skull drags Bruce up the stairs, stopping every couple of steps to punch the big man in the face to make sure he’s under control. After some dragging and some punching Skull has managed to drag the Ultraviolent champion up onto the first level of cells overlooking the floor where they have been fighting until now.


“I don’t like where this is heading” King says sounding a bit nervous.




“WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP” The Skull roars at the prisoners on death row.


Skull grabs Bruce by the shirt, probably to toss him somewhere, but we’ll never know as Bruce pulls / falls backwards into a cell behind him dragging the Skull forward as well. Bruce grabs the cell door and slams it right on the Skull’s armor plated arm




“Oh he’s alright he’s got armor plating” King says with confidence.


“I don’t think so my life weary royal partner” Cyclone says as Crimson Skull clutches his arm in absolute agony.


The impact of the solid steel cell door has bent the metal casing over Skull’s arm and actually dug into his flesh as blood begins to drip from his hand just moments later. With Skull’s arm hurt Bruce finally has an opening to really take charge of the match as he knocks the Skull back against the railing with a big boot to the head. With the Skull back against the guardrail Bruce runs at him and clotheslines the big man so hard that he almost tips over the top of the rail.




Neither Comet nor King says anything as they sit in shock and watch as Bruce grabs hold of the Skull’s right leg and tries to flip him over the railing and to the floor, a drop of a good 12 feet to the concrete or so. Even though the Skull tries to prevent it Bruce manages to drag one of the Crimson Skull’s legs over the side and keeps on pushing the big man up and over with a demented look on his face.


“Someone needs to stop this travesty of justice!” Comet says in desperation


“Bruce may go right back inside if he actually throws the Crimson Skull off the first level walk way – it’s attempted murder!!” King says as the prisoners in Cellblock 40 are loving every minute of this.


With Skull straddling the top bar on the railing Bruce knows he needs something push him just that little bit further. A well placed boot to the already hurt arm seems to do the trick as the Skull screams out in pain and for a moment takes his mind off clinging on.




The Skull is flipped over the top but he manages to hold on to the railing with both hands, he screams in agony from his hurt arm but manages to hold on as he dangles from the railing, his feet a good 6 feet or so over the ground in his current position.


“Do… you … submit?” Ghost Machine asks as he stands on the floor below the dangling Crimson Skull having finally broken free of his glitch


“That’s it Skull!! You can submit and save your ass – just quit now and save yourself!!” King yells forgetting that he and Comet are in a separate building from the Hell in a Cellblock 40 match.


Before the Skull can reply Bruce rears back and drives the hard heel of his boot into the Skull’s left hand with a sickening crunch sound. The boot to the hand has the desired effect as the Skull hangs from one hand for a moment until his grip slips


And the 285 pounder falls off the railing


Landing on the concrete with his feet first but his knees buckle instantly and the Skull slams against the concrete floor.




The crowd roars in approval as Bruce staggers over towards the stairs that’ll take him to the ground level once more. Despite the massive beating Bruce has taken tonight at the hands of Crimson Skull the man is still smiling through the blood as he smells victory. Skull is on the ground holding his knees in agony from the drop to the hard floor not aware that Bruce is approaching him.


“If that damn machine was any kind of referee he would have ended it already I mean the Skull is in no shape to continue after that fall” King says.


“Maybe the Skull is just pretending, I’ve seen him fall off even taller buildings and live” Cyclone says but he may have mixed up the Skull and the Giant falling off Cobo Arena, who knows??


Bruce pulls Crimson Skull’s head in between his knees and then wraps his arms around the Skull’s ample waist trying to get him in a pile driver position once again. Now that his opponent has been stripped of most of his armor Bruce has an easier time getting the Skull into position, but not much of one though as he’s feeling the effects of the beating he’s taken. Bruce barely manages to get the Skull up in the right position before he lets himself fall backwards into a pile driver.


Bruce’s knees buckle a little under the strain, one of the bends slightly before the impact and thus the Skull ends up striking the ground at crooked angle and his whole body snaps to the right while his head stays in place.




Bruce rolls over and just lays across the chest of the Skull as Ghost Machine V2.0 just stands there and stares at them for a moment, then he counts out loud


“ZERO – ONE!!”








“ONE – ZERO!!”




“It’s Binary King, never heard of it?” Comet says immediately recognizing it from his years of experience trying to get naked super heroine pictures off the web.








“CITIZEN BLANK RETAINS!!” Cyclone says sounding very pleased that Crimson Skull’s latest plan was thwarted.


“A popular victory here in Cellblock 40” King says as all the inmates on death row yell and cheer for the Ultraviolent champion.


Bruce rolls off Crimson Skull and sits on his knees gasping for air for a moment or two, when he gets up he sees that Ghost Machine V2.0 is holding the Ultraviolent title in his hands but doesn’t look like he’s willing to hand it over to Bruce.


“Give me my damn belt!” Bruce yells sending droplets of blood and spit everywhere.


“Do… you … submit?” Ghost Machine just asks


“Hell no!”


Ghost Machine turns the volume up and makes an announcement while holding the Ultraviolent title up over his head “WINNER BY SUBMISSION GHOST MACH~”


But that’s all he gets out before Bruce clotheslines the guest referee from behind knocking the much smaller man/machine down. After retrieving his rightful possession Bruce walks towards the door with the Ultraviolent title under his arm looking extremely pissed off over Ghost Machine’s actions in this match.


“God damn modern doo-hickeys!!” is the last thing we hear as we’re taken to a commercial break.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

"Magic People


Voodoo People"



With that sound, the undefeated tag team of Michael Cross and Akira Kaibatsu break out of the gate.


"the people who-do-what-you-don't-dare-do people!"


The camera pans around, and views some of the finest sings in San Quentin.




Cross and Kaibatsu walk side by side, behind their manager, Mr. Kobe. Forming a perfect triangle as they walk down the ramp. Kobe speaks in thick Japanese accent, speaking forward to his protégés, even though they are behind him. Funyon starts to speak.


"Representing the land of unlimited shower time . . . at a combined weight of . . ." Funyon stops for a moment, and squints, counting his fingers. "429 pounds . . . ASIA UNDERGROUND!"


"Funyon's not the best at math I guess, King" Pete says.


"Heh, no wonder we got him to work for so little!"


Akira and Cross slide into the ring, and Kobe walks by the announce booth. He doesn't put a headset on, or anything, he just avoids the lumberjacks.


Cross goes to the senter of the ring, and gets on one knee, and bends his head down, covering it with his forearm. Akira stands behind him, taking hopsteps, waiting for their opponents.




Never again will I feel dishonored


"I'm Alive" by Disturbed plays, and Kevin Coyote, and his partner Insane Luchadore come out of the gate. IL plays the San Quentin crowd, and Kevin Coyote gives him a strange look out of the corner of his eye. Kevin keeps walking, but IL hands out as many high fives as he can.


"And from Easton Pensylvania, Insane Luchador, and representing Bruinswick Georgia . . . Kevin Coyote!"


Pete laughs, "No math needed there, eh?"


Coyote and IL roll into the ring. IL jumps to the turnbuckle, playing to the crowd more. Coyote simply sits there, waiting for the song to end so the match can start.


Finally the music dies down, and the bell rings.







Asia Underground waste no time, as they run towards Coyote and Insane Luchadore. Akira throws a tough elbow at IL, and Cross knife edge chops Coyote. Kevin chops write back, much harder than Cross did. Cross' chest becomes beat red. Cross wont stand for that though, and throws another chop Kevin's way, even harder than Coyote had done!


Akira goes a different route than his partner. He puts IL in a hammer lock, and squeezes tightly. IL grimaces, but he quickly turns the tables on Akira, spinning to put in his own hammer lock. IL slides his arms up Akira's back and puts him in a side headlock.


Insane Luchadore applies as much pressure as he can on Akira's head. Akira groans some Japanese curse word, before backing up into the ropes, and shoving Luch off his head. IL runs towards the ropes, and bounces back. Akira drops his head, going for a back drop, but he goes too early, and IL kicks his face. Akira tries to recover quickly from his mistake, and runs backwards at the ropes. He bounces off, and tries for one of his signature roaring elbows, but IL counters it with a power slam!


Cross tries one more knife edged chop at Kevin, but he ducks, and swings behind Cross. He puts him in a rear waist lock, and flips backwards, bridging over for a German Suplex pin.


"Asia Underground seems to be a bit slow tonight!" LDP tries to get in before the count is made.


























King adds, "It probably isn't helping that Cross knows most of the lumberjacks had some sort of drug charge."


Insane Luchadore keeps Akira grounded, putting in a ground sleeper. Coyote picks up Cross by the hair. Akira fights to get up from the sleeper, and finally makes his way to his feet. Akira struggles to get out of the sleeper. He takes his elbows and swings them to the side, right into the gut of IL. Luch takes the elbows, and refuses to let go of the sleeper. Akira makes another attempt at getting free of the sleeper, throwing his elbows into IL once again. IL takes the elbows again, not letting go of the hold. Akira finally attempts a different strategy. He grabs the arms holding his throat. He pulls them off violently, and grasps them. He holds them out in front of his chest, as IL stands beside him. Akira drops to the ground, hitting a Divorce Court DDT.


"It doesn't separate the arm . . . it divorces it!" Pete laughs at his own jokes.


Akira takes a look at his fallen opponent, holding his arm. Cross had just nailed a standing vertical suplex as the sleeper sequence went on. Akira looks up at Cross, and motions towards IL's left arm, which appeared to be in a bit of pain. Akira lifts up IL, and puts him in a hammer lock. Cross then approaches IL, and lifts him for a scoop slam. Akira keeps the hammerlock on for as long as he can. Cross finishes the scoop slam, and IL lands on his arm.


"Ok, so Asia Underground have developed a strategy," King says.


Cross and Kaibatsu are just about to follow up with another double team move, but Coyote gets up, and throws an elbow at Cross. Cross turns around to face Coyote. Coyote is very quick, and throws knife edged chops at Cross again. Cross doubles over from the chest pain, opening a spot for Coyote to put in a front face lock. Coyote drops to the ground, hitting a DDT!


"Wonderful DDT from Kevin Coyote," King says.


Coyote then turns to Akira, but Akira is one step ahead of him. He runs at Coyote, and hits a clip kick that sends Coyote out of the ring.


"Yessss . . . the lumberjacks attack Coyote" Pete says in victory.


Akira quickly picks up Cross, and motions to him to get back to work on IL's arm. IL is crawling away from the two, trying to get to a turnbuckle. Akira and Cross catch up though. Cross picks up Insane Luchadore by his injured left arm, and wrenches it. Akira ascends to the top turnbuckle. After playing to the crowd for a second, Akira comes flying down with a tomahawk chop to IL's twisted arm. Luchadore falls to the ground, holding his arm, screaming.


It is just now, a large tattooed man labeled "Whitney" throws Coyote back into the ring. Akira motions for Cross to go after Coyote. Akira picks up IL by the arm. He whips him into the ropes, bounces back, and catches him with a smooth arm drag. Akira holds on to the arm though, putting in an arm lock.


Cross goes right after Coyote. He picks up Coyote by his hair, and tries for a vertical suplex. Coyote plants his feet though, and blocks it. Coyote then hooks Cross' leg and rolls to the side for a small package.






























Coyote doesn't have time to be angry at missing the pinfall. He goes right over to Akira and breaks the arm lock. It did it's job though; IL's arm is in pain.


"Coyote is really saving this match from ending quickly, Pete," King says, knowingly trying to stir up controversy.


"Well yeah, King," Pete is grumpy "It'd be a handicap match if he wasn't!"


Akira quickly gets up to face Coyote. Coyote and Akira exchange facial expressions and stare downs while Cross quietly, slowly, creeps behind Coyote. Akira spins around, going for a discuss lariat. Coyote is well prepared though, and ducks. That duck however, gave Cross momentum to cover Coyote with a school boy!


































Akira turns around, to see IL still struggling with his arm. Akira trots over to him, and picks him up. He wrenches IL's arm, and puts in a hammerlock. Akira then digs his foot into the back of IL's knee, sending him to the ground, and landing right on his injured arm.



"That was . . . odd," Pete says.


"Anyway you can get work done on that arm, I guess."


Akira quickly dismisses Insane Luchadore for a moment, to address Kevin Coyote. He and Cross are struggling in a lock up, so Akira kicks at Coyote's stomach. Cross then takes advantage, and once again tosses Kevin Coyote to the outside of the ring. LDP has a quiet fist pump.


Asia Underground walk over to Insane Luchador. Akira grabs IL's left arm, and wrenches it from the ground. Cross takes a small jump. And hits a small leg drop on it, causing IL to groan loudly in pain.


They both stay on the theme of odd arm double teams. Cross picks up IL, and wrenches his arm. He then holds it up against a the turnbuckle nearest him. Akira slides out onto the apron. He swiftly kicks at one convict trying to grab him, so they all back off.


Akira jumps over the ropes, side style. He doesn't land on his feet though, he just keeps his legs extended, hitting IL's arm on the way down.



"This isn't just innovation for the sake of innovation, King," Pete says. "This is innovative, and looks like it hurts really bad."


Akira makes a lazy cover, hooking no legs.






















"Ohhh, just not enough to put him away, King."


A burly man, with a name tag reading "Maurice" chucks Kevin Coyote into the ring. Coyote is slow to get up, so Akira motions for Cross to take advantage of the situation.


"Akira and Cross seem to have mastered communications, King," Pete says. "Not only do they speak completely different languages, but they comprehend each other with it without even knowing the other language. They know each other very well."


Cross lifts Coyote by the hair, and throws elbows at him. Coyote fights back with elbows of his own though. Coyote throws another elbow. One more. Kevin then Irish Whips Cross into the ropes, he bounces back, and then Kevin catches him with an impactful back drop.


Akira continues to have a very easy time with IL, focusing on his injured arm.


"No one does that better than Asia Underground," Pete laughs. "They'll pick apart your limb so hard you wont even be able to play chess!"


"Pete, what the hell are you talking about . . ."


Akira picks up IL by the arm, and wrenches it once again. Akira doesn't have any wacky zany moves this time though. He just slams the arm to the ground. He quickly drops to the ground and puts a fujiwara armbar in.


Coyote is quick to get his partner out of the hold. Coyote continues to flail forearms at Akira as he gets up off the mat. Soon both are standing and begin throwing knife edged chops again.








Akira ducks one of the chops, and grabs Coyoe's left leg. He spins at the fastest speed he can go, to hit the Dragon Screw. Akira then turns around to work on Insane Luchadore more, but IL is already standing. He hits a drop toehold, but over shoots the ropes, and Akira goes flying through them.


"Lumberjack time, again!" Pete screams.


"You like this match, don'tcha?"


Cross is quickly back up to face both IL and Coyote. Cross never gets a chance to fight the odds though. Insane Luchadore comes flying at him with a lariat, knocking him straight on his ass. Coyote then drops to the match, and puts in a regular leg lock. IL gets down, and does the same to the other leg. The first thing out of Cross' mouth is "AGGHHHHHH!"


"Oh god, double leg lock! That looks really painful, King"


Convict #131A sends Akira straight back into the ring, after taking a brief beating. Akira sees his partner in trouble though, and forgets the pain he was just in. Akira has a plan. Kaibatsu approaches Insane Luchadore as he applies the leg lock. Akira then grabs IL's left arm, and puts in a cross armbar!


"Oh my god, here's where things get interesting!" Pete says.


Insane Luchadore is faced with a tough decision, in whether to let go of his hold, and grab the ropes, or to suck it up. The pain in IL's arm seems to make the decision for him, and he let's fgo of Cross, before scurrying to the ropes.


Coyote still has Cross' leg. Not for long though. Akira quickly gets up and stomps into his gut. Coyote reaches in towards his stomach from the shot, and lets go of Cross. Akira motions to Cross to keep working on Coyote, he has IL figured out.


Akira lifts up Luch, and throws a mean forearm at him. Quickly, he grabs IL's right arm, and drops down for a fujiwara armbar.


"What the . . . that's not the arm he's been working on all match . . ." King thinks aloud.


Akira pushes his submission to the side. In fact, so far to the side, that IL's left hand is leaning over the edge of the mat. This of course is all legal for the lumberjacks to attack. They attack IL's left arm.


"Holy crap, I've never seen that done before, King!" Pete screams.



The cons beat their forearms and elbows and punches right on IL's arm. It's getting to a point where IL almost can't even feel it's still there.


Coyote and Cross lock up with a Greco-roman knuckle lock. Cross pushes forward, trying to send Coyote to his back. Kevin won't have that though. He pushes just as hard right back. Cross is tired of Tug-O-War though, and kicks Coyote's legs, sending him to the ground. Cross motions for Akira to come over there and work on Coyote. Cross can switch to IL.


Akira is eager to wrestle Kevin Coyote, and it shows. The very first thing he does is stuff Kevin right between his legs, and butterfly the arms. He swings out to the left, and plants him to the ground!


"Akira hit It Came From Sendai on Coyote!"


"Oh, it's not over! Look at this!"


Cross turns around from looking at Akira wrestle Coyote, and is nailed right then by IL. Cross is knocked so far back, he can't even move. Insane Luchadore might have it just as bad. He used his left arm to hit that lariat.



Akira turns to Insane Luchadore, trying to take advantage of the situation. Akira runs right at Insane Luchadore, going for a clothesline, but IL ducks, moving behind Akira. He spins Akira around by the shoulders, and puts in a front face lock. He jumps up, and spikes Akira's head down quickly.


"It's the evenflow DDT! Gotta be over now!" Pete screams.


IL makes the cover.

























"Did Kevin Coyote just break up that pinfall?" King asks.


Kevin gives Insane Luchadore glance. IL is not only confused, but fucking angry. Coyote lifts up Akira, and performs a powerful clothesline like maneuver. The Coyote takedown of course.


Before Kevin can make a cover though, Luchadore gives him a firm shove in the chest. Kevin shoves Luch right back, as if he had done nothing absurd. Kevin screams something, but no one can really make out what he said. IL just turns his head, and rolls his eyes. He turns right back at Coyote, and gives his partner a punch he'll never forget!


"Oh my god, this team has just collapsed" Pete says.


"Right in the middle of the match too!"


The punch sends Coyote to the ground, and outside the ring, where he is beginning to take a beat down from San Quentin's most violent! IL leans over the ropes, and screams at Coyote. He doesn't have much time to scream though. Akira reaches under him and puts in a school boy!



















































"Wow, Asia Underground really lucked out this time," King says.


On the outside, the convicts are being fended off by guards. Kevin Coyote however, is not being fended off. Kevin is irate, and his anger is visible. He sees the closing living thing to him—Michael Cross, and takes out his anger on him. He takes Michael's leg, and slams it into the guardrail over and over, before a team of officials gets everyone out of the ring, so things don't escalate.



We Fade out, as Mr. Kobe and Akira check on Cross' leg.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Upon re-entering his trailer after the match, Kevin Coyote is angry and intent on displaying that anger. He slams the door behind him, flips a table upside down, and then picks up a small wooden chair and heaves it across the length of the trailer, where it smashes into a television set.


A knock on the door distracts Coyote's attention. "WHAT?" shouts Coyote.


"Mr. Coyote?" calls a muffled voice outside the door. "It's Ben Hardy. Can I ask a question or two about your match tonight?"


Coyote's eyes flare, a sight that, mercifully, Hardy is unable to see. Coyote throws the door open and addresses the interviewer. "You want to know about my match, dog? Let me tell you something about my match. Insane Luchador screwed me over and cost me this match, cost me my shot at the SWF Tag Team Championship!"


"But Mr. Coyote," interrupts Hardy, "what about your vicious attack on Michael Cross after the match? Are you aware you may have taken him out of action?"


"Look at me," Coyote says, and gets right up in Hardy's face, glaring into his eyes. "Do I look like I give a damn about Michael Fucking Cross? I've lost my shot at the Tag Team titles thanks to Insane Luchador, and the next time he crosses my path, mark my words, no amount of Clan security goons will be able to prevent the stain I put into his face. Now get the hell out of here before I demonstrate!"


Hardy quickly and obediently backs off, closing the door as he leaves. Coyote is alone for a moment, but barely has a chance to take a breather before another knock sounds at the door. Frustrated and ready to do some damage, Coyote swings the door open again...


...and takes a hard right punch to the nose! Coyote stumbles back in shock, blood starting to drip from his nose, and then a second punch strikes him in the eye, knocking him down.


Longdogger Pete stares down at his fallen son, a smug look on his face. "Nice work tonight," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "See you at From the Fire."




Later, as Coyote holds an ice pack to the rapidly swelling bruise over his eye, he holds his cell phone to his ear with his other hand.


"You saw it on camera, Avery?" he hollers into the phone. "You saw what he did, right?"


"...so did you get the plane tickets?"


"...good. When I face off with LDP at From the Fire, I am going to end his career... and if he tries to resist the inevitable, then I... we... will have a little surprise for him."

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

“Welcome back to Lockdown, good citizens!” exclaims Cyclone Comet. “And our road to From the Fire reaches its final leg, as we prepare for our main event! King, we’ve been waiting for weeks to see whether or not Wes Davenport has what it takes to dethrone El Luchadore Magnifico and become the new World Heavyweight Champion!”


“Well, Davenport earned that right when he outlasted nineteen other superstars to win the Cluster-(bleep),” adds the Suicide King, “But he hasn’t been very active in the ring since winning the Battle Royal. Mags, on the other hand, has continued his reign of dominance; he’s undefeated in 2006, and he just looks to be untouchable right now!”


“Tonight, however, we’re going to see the two of them in tag team action,” says Comet, “as they are going to be paired up with Jay Hawke and the Wildchild! And now that we’ve learned that those two will face each other in a steel cage at the Pay-Per-View, King, that should add another dimension to this match as well!”


“Wildchild and Jay Hawke have been at each other’s throats for months now,” chimes King. “And the interesting thing about this rivalry is, even though Wildchild has picked all of the wins, it seems as though Jay Hawke has managed to get the better of it; after all, he’s still the International Champion, and he’s put several knots on Wildchild’s head every time the two of them meet in the ring!”


“That, King,” snaps Comet, “is because that dastardly Jay Hawke insists on resorting to dastardly tactics in order to hold on to the International Title! We’ll see whether or not he is truly able to get the best of Citizen LeCroix when they square off in a steel cage… But tonight, we’ve got a tremendous tag team attraction for our main event, so let’s get right to it!”






“The following contest,” booms Funyon, “is the MAIN EVENT!”


Suddenly, the concrete walls of San Quentin reverberate with the sound of Mystikal’s “Bouncin’ Back. Melissa Fasaki huddles closely to Wildchild in apprehension as a cadre of police guards escorts them to the ring.


“This tag team contest is scheduled for one fall!” continues Funyon. “Introducing first, being accompanied by Melissa Fasaki: from the Bahamas, and weighing in at two hundred fourteen pounds… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” Wildchild removes his shin guards and hands them to Melissa before somersaulting into the ring, to a surprising chorus of boos.


“Wildchild appears to be shaken up by the reaction of the inmates here tonight,” notes Comet, observing the unease in WC’s countenance. “He’s always been one who feeds off the crowd reaction, so you have to be concerned with how well he’ll be able to perform, if you’re a Wildchild fan.”


“Well, to be honest, Comet, the reaction is to be expected,” says King. “I mean, this is a prison, after all; they don’t take too kindly to goody-two-shoes types like Wildchild in here!” Wildchild’s music fades out and is quickly replaced by “Get Over It,” by the group OK Go. The prison guards return to the curtain area in order to escort Wes Davenport to the ring, who waves to the crowd, despite many of the inmates taking out shiv’s from their pockets.


“His tag team partner,” says Funyon, “hails from Hollywood, California! Weighing two hundred fifty-eight pounds… here is the Number One Contender to the World Heavyweight Championship: WES DAAAAAVENPORT!” Davenport is treated to only slightly fewer boos than WC as he makes his way towards the ring.


“This is unbelievable!” stammers a flustered Comet, as Wes steps between the ropes. “I simply cannot understand why these fans would be so uncomplimentary towards such virtuous stars as these?”


King rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Hey cretin, what part of ‘we’re in a freakin’ prison, you moron,’ don’t you understand?” I swear, I should take you back to that Public Access TV station that I found you at… movie star my...”


“AHEM!” Comet loudly clears his throat to keep King’s profanity from reaching the airwaves, as Davenport’s music fades out. After a split second of silence, the lights in the arena dim, and quiet is quickly disrupted by Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly.”






“And their opponents!” continues Funyon. “Introducing first, from the Hall-of-Fame city of Cleveland, Ohio, and weighing in tonight at two hundred fifteen pounds… Here is the SWF International Champion: the Dean of Professional Wrestling: JAAAAAY HAAAAAWKE!” A spotlight shines on Jay Hawke as he makes his way to the ring. Upon arriving at the ringside area, Hawke removes his robe, folds it, and hands it to the ring attendant. He then makes his way onto the ring apron, and steps between the ropes to enter the ring. The International Champion walks to a nearby corner and climbs up onto the turnbuckle; he removes his title belt and raises it haughtily above his head as the crowd cheers:









“I’m sitting right here, and I still can hardly believe the reception for Citizen Hawke!” shouts Comet over the roar of the inmates. “I’d be willing to wager that he’s never had a crowd react to him the way they’re doing here tonight!” What little light remains in the auditorium blinks out for an instant, before…







A wall of red, white and green pyro announces the arrival of the World Heavyweight Champion, as Atake FDD’s “Tu Final” begins to play! As the smoke clears, the inmates begin to cheer as they catch a clear sight of El Luchadore Magnifico, who strides out from behind the curtain, illuminated by a single spotlight. His head bobbing to the thumping bass and his trademark Mexican flag in his hands, Magnifico quickly makes his way down the entrance ramp, stopping to indulge some of the esse’s on lockdown by posing for a picture.









“His tag team partner,” booms Funyon, “hails from Mexico City, Mexico! Weighing two hundred ten pounds, here is the SWF World Heavyweight Champion… EL LUUUUUCHADORE MAAAAAGNIFICO!”


Magnifico reaches the ring, rolls beneath its bottom rope, and pops to his feet. He steps into the middle of the ring and thrusts his flag high into the air, doing so as the lights are reignited throughout the arena. Grinning once more for the uncharacteristically cheering audience, Magnifico hands his flag to the ref and executes a few cursory stretches as he waits for the bell to ring.


“My word, King, this match is going to be quite unorthodox, it seems,” remarks Comet.


“Well, we know that it’s not going to make a difference to Mags and Jay Hawke,” says King. “The big question will be how Davenport and Wildchild, Wildchild in particular, react to these inmates.” Jay and ELM have a quick discussion to determine which of them will start the match, with Hawke being chosen as the man to open up, whilst Davenport, noticing the look of determination in WC’s eyes, exits to the ring apron.


“I was kind of wondering which of them would start,” ponders King, as ELM’s music fades out. “It looks like Davenport decided to defer to Wildchild’s experience as a tag team wrestler, and Wildchild’s accustomed to starting the match.”


“He’ll do so against his arch-nemesis, Jay Hawke,” adds Comet, “as we’re about to get underway!” Tense seconds elapse as WC and Jay stand chest-to-chest. Wildchild’s stares at his rival with an eerily calm expression, rather than his usually bright and animated one. Referee Red Herrington motions to the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match:






And Wildchild and Hawke immediately begin exchanging punches! WC snaps off a few quick right hands, but the Dean fires back with intensity, unleashing a volley of ferocious rights to Wildchild’s dome, and staggering the Caribbean! Jay forces him back into a neutral corner, and begins to press his attack by jamming his size 11 wrestling boots into Wildchild’s midsection, to the delight of the inmates:









Jay grabs WC by the wrist and whips him across the ring. Wildchild leaps into the air as he approaches the opposite corner and plants his hands on the ropes adjacent to the top turnbuckle, using them as a platform to propel himself backwards and over the charging Jay Hawke. Jay turns back towards the center of the ring just in time for WC to catch him just below the left eye with a running elbow!






The unexpected jeers disrupt Wildchild’s concentration, and he looks out to the inmates in dismay. Turning his attention back to Hawke, WC lashes forward with a right cross, but the Dean blocks with his left forearm, and then stuns Wildchild with a right cross of his own! Jay then grabs him by the back of the head and slams him face-first into the turnbuckle!


“Ouch!” cries Comet, cringing. “A move like that will part one’s hair, King!” Jay pulls Wildchild out of the corner knocks him down to the canvas with a fierce European uppercut! He then pulls WC back to his feet and whips him into the ropes. Hawke picks him up into a bearhug as he rebounds and drops him down forcefully onto his outstretched thigh with an inverted Atomic Drop! He then finds his own way to the ropes, springing into the air as he rebounds and whipping his leg through the air sharply, to level WC with a leg lariat!


“Tremendous start by Jay Hawke,” says Comet. “And, much to my continued astonishment, he has the crowd behind him!” Hawke pulls Wildchild back to his feet leads him over to the edge of the ring, running his face viciously across the tope rope, to the delight of the inmates. Jay then whips him across the ring, but the Human Hurricane leaps onto the top rope as he approaches the edge of the ring, and then curls into a ball as he springs off, knocking the Dean flat against the canvas with his patented Pinball attack!






Wildchild applies a lateral press, but Hawke kicks out before Herrington can even get into position to count. WC pulls Jay to his feet and leads him over to a neutral corner, where he straddles the middle ropes and begins to administer a ten-count punch to Hawke:





















The steady barrage of boos from the inmates continues to have a negative effect on Wildchild, who stops in the middle of his assault to compose himself after being emotionally shaken by the boos. This gives Hawke all the distraction he needs, and he grabs WC around the waist and dumps him over his shoulder; clotheslining him on the top rope!





“Quick thinking on the part of Jay Hawke,” reflects King. “He took advantage of Wildchild’s preoccupation to turn the tables on him!” Hawke pulls Wildchild to his feet and whips him across the ring. He lowers his shoulder to deliver a back-body drop as WC rebounds, but the Bahama Bomber stuns him with a kick to the face, and then dives desperately towards his own corner, tagging in his partner and rolling out of the ring in one fluid motion.


“Tag is made!” exclaims Comet. “And in comes Wes Davenport!” Wes scoops Hawke up effortlessly and drops him onto his outstretched thigh with a pendulum backbreaker. Wes pulls Jay back to his feet and knocks him back into the ropes with a series of aggressive rights and lefts. Davenport leans Hawke against the ropes to measure him as he runs across the ring. Wes raises his leg as he rebounds to deliver Das Boot… but the Dean dives out of the way, causing Davenport to crotch himself!


“Some more quick thinking by Jay Hawke gives him a chance to make the tag,” notes Comet, as Hawke staggers over towards his corner. “And there it is! Tag is made to the Heavyweight Champion!” ELM pulls Wes away from the ropes and attempts to whip him across the ring, only for the much larger man to reverse relatively easily. Mags ducks a clothesline attempt as he rebounds the first time, and then leaps off the canvas as he bounces off the ropes a second time, arms and legs extended to crash into him with a flying cross-body block, but ELM rolls through the attempt, pulling tightly on Wes’ wrestling trunks as he rolls him into a pinning combination!



















“My word!” shouts Comet. “Citizen Davenport was just barely able to avoid being pinned there!” ELM drags Wes over to his corner, and then tags Jay back in, holding him from behind as the Dean delivers a stiff kick to the ribs. Hawke ties up with Davenport and quickly snaps him over with an armdrag. He immediately rolls him onto his stomach and cinches in an armbar, whilst simultaneously reaching across Wes’ body to grab his other arm as he attempts to apply the Rings of Saturn… only for Wildchild to race into the ring and kick Jay between the shoulder blades to break up the submission attempt.






Wes and Jay get back to their feet and engage in a collar-and-elbow tie-up, which Jay quickly shifts into a standing armbar. Davenport tries to break free with multiple chops to the chest, but only succeeds in forcing Hawke back against the ropes. Wes whips Jay across the ring, and hooks him to deliver a hiptoss as he bounces off the ropes, but the Dean blocks it, and tries to take him down with an armbar instead, only for Davenport to pull away at the last second. Jay leads Wes over to his corner while he makes the tag to ELM, but Davenport uses his strength to get away at the last second, and quickly marches backwards towards his corner, where he makes the tag back to Wildchild.


“Citizen Hawke gets the fresh man in the ring,” says Comet, “so Citizen Davenport decides to do the same!” Wildchild and Mags meet in the center of the ring to engage in a collar-and-elbow tie-up, which Magnifico quickly takes advantage of, shifting to a side headlock. Wildchild leads him towards the edge of the ring, and then uses the ropes to help him push ELM across. Wildchild leaps into the air as Mags rebounds to avoid him with a leapfrog, and then hooks him underneath the arm as he bounces off the ropes as second time to take him over with a hiptoss, but Mags reverses, swinging around to the other side of Wildchild’s body and taking him over with a hiptoss of his own!


“You have to recognize the experience advantage that Magnifico has!” says Comet. “He’s just about seen it all, and you’re not going to be able to catch him with a move like that very often!” Mags ties Wildchild up in another collar-and-elbow, and then quickly shifts into a waistlock, before tripping Wildchild from behind and taking him to the canvas with a waistlock takeover.


“Good ride by Magnifico,” notes King, “and the Latino’s in the audience respect a good ride.”


“Admirable to see you break down those ethnic barriers, Citizen King.” Wildchild has to go to the ropes to get free, and Herrington calls for a clean break. Magnifico complies, releasing Wildchild and returning to the center of the ring, but not before he gives WC a disrespectful slap to the back of the head, which earns cheers from the inmates. He and Wildchild tie-up once more, and this time, ELM backs him up against the ropes. Herrington calls for a break, and Mags releases him once again, but this time, instead of backing away to a neutral part of the ring, ELM lights Wildchild up with a stiff reverse knife-edge chop! Only then does he back away, after being admonished by the referee.


“Mags has the matchup firmly under control,” notes King. “But he’d better not get Wildchild fired up; he’ll find himself trying to contain a whirlwind in his hands if he lets Wildchild get emotional!” Wildchild and Magnifico tie-up again, both men fighting to take control, but the Magnificent One once again backs WC against the ropes. This time, ELM grabs him by the wrist and whips him across the ring, hooking him underneath the arm and hoisting him off the mat to deliver a hiptoss, but the Bahama Bomber flips through the air and lands on his feet, before hooking his own arm underneath ELM’s and snapping him down to the canvas with a tremendous armdrag takeover! Mags rolls to his feet and charges Wildchild, only to be taken down by a second armdrag, and then Wildchild beats him to his feet, leaping into the air as Magnifico stands up…






… And nailing him with a running dropkick that sends him tumbling out of the ring! Wildchild scrambles to his feet and races to the ropes as Mags stands up outside the ring. Wildchild dives headfirst towards the edge of the ring, prompting ELM to move to safety, but Wildchild merely plants his hands on the canvas and uses the ropes to propel his body back towards the center of the ring as he performs a handspring backflip! And when Mags turn around to see how badly WC crashed and burned, the Human Hurricane dives feet-first through the ropes to blast him in the face with a baseball slide!






The inmates protest as WC appears to be getting the better of Magnifico, and continue to jeer even louder when Wildchild follows up his attacks with a plancha to the outside! He pulls ELM back to his feet and rolls him underneath the bottom rope to return to the ring. WC then hops up to the apron and grabs onto the top rope, using it to propel his body back into the ring, where he crashes into Magnifico’s chest with a slingshot senton! Wildchild applies a cover…















… But only gets two!



“Wildchild, as he has shown himself capable of doing in the past, has used his speed and agility to turn this match around,” says Comet. “And here’s the tag; let’s see if Citizen Davenport gives us a little preview of what he plans to do at From the Fire!”


“I’ve seen this preview in theatre’s, and trust me, Wes is going to bomb worse than Gigli,” King adds with a satisfied smirk.


“How DARE you make such an accusation, Citizen Suicide! Nothing could bomb worse than that!”


As the commentary cohorts chuckle to themselves, Davenport steps into the ring, the rowdy inmates now growing more menacing as Team Wildport begin to take control. This doesn’t last long however as Davenport takes his eyes off his PPV opponent, allowing the crafty Mexican to shoot forward and drive his shoulder into Davenport’s ribs! The actor doubles over, momentarily stunned, giving Magnifico his chance as he reaches up and rakes Davenport’s eyes!


The actor cries out, fearing his beautiful green eyes are no more. Magnifico rushes across back to his corner, but Wes is in close pursuit, or at least he thinks so, since his vision is still blurred. Magnifico finally reaches his corner-




-and tags in Hawke! The International Champion lunges over the ropes and clobbers Davenport on his arrival with a stiff elbow shot! The actor suddenly recoils, unsure of his surroundings, giving Hawke an opening as he kicks Wes in the midsection. Davenport groans from the constant abuse, but it only gets worse as Hawke comes back from the ropes, taking Wes by the head and swinging him around, dropping him with a Neckbreaker! Another raucous cheer is heard from the inmates as Hawke drops to the mat, grinding his forearm into the actor’s handsome features for the pin…










… But Wes rolls a shoulder off the mat, drawing hopeful cheers from the prison guards at ringside, who quickly fall silent as the inmates stare at them. Davenport tries desperately to crawl to the sanctuary of the friendly corner of the ring, but Hawke is quick to capitalize as always, dropping an elbow across Davenport’s lower back. Wes moans, and then lets out a high pitched yelp as Hawke sits across his shoulder, grabbing his right arm and pulling back, locking in a Fujiwara armbar!


“…And Citizen Hawke SWOOPS in on a helpless Davenport!” Comet shouts.


“Hey, if this were Davenport, he’d be locking in a KUROSAWA Armbar!”


The two commentators giggle as Davenport groans, Hawke applying pressure on his shoulder by sitting down on it, and rearing back, bring Wes’ arm up to a sickening angle. Right now, Davenport might expect the fans to start clapping, drumming up support for their hero and praying he breaks fee, but instead, he has thousands of felons abusing him with ungodly language. Wildchild looks slightly worried as Davenport tries to crawl forward towards the ropes, but Hawke leaps into the air and sits back down on his shoulder, flattening the actor against the canvas!


“Citizen Hawke zoned in on that right arm of Davenport previously but was thwarted. Now, however, he has Citizen Davenport right where he wants him, and I fear he may not last long against this onslaught!”


“I KNOW he won’t last long against this,” King answers with spite. “Wes, the prissy actor that he is, will show his true colors when he gives up to Hawke’s technical mastery.”


“It may not come to that, King,” Comet replies, looking into the ring, “because here comes Citizen Wildchild to save the day!”


The Bahaman Bomber sees Hawke Davenport crawl just a little further towards friendly territory, bringing Hawke within striking distance for ‘Child, who leaps onto the top rope and springs off-




-connecting with a flying forearm to Hawke’s noggin’! “Humph,” King grunts in displeasure. “Wildchild may have saved Davenport, but he’s only prolonged their defeat a little further…” King’s eyes suddenly light up at something in the ring, “because here’s Magnifico to even the score!


As referee Placeholder admonishes the Cruiser, the World Champion takes advantage of this momentary distraction, grabbing Wes’ arm as he shakily climbs to his feet, pulling him down to the canvas with an Armbreaker DDT! Wildchild points in counter-protest, but Placeholder turns around too late, finding Magnifico already outside the ring, shrugging innocently to the esse’s in the front row who greet him as a hero!


“Magnifico deserves nothing more to be locked up with the rest of these heathen ne’er-do-wells that I locked up!” Comet shouts in an uproar.


“…Are you telling me you put ALL these men behind bars?”


“Of course! I am a superhero as well as a commentator after all!”


“And a shameless shill before anything else,” King replies with a groan, “But it doesn’t matter Comet, because Magnifico and Hawke are beginning to take control, and Davenport is helpless in that ring, but that isn’t anything new of course.”


The fans roar as Hawke shakes off Wildchild’s blow and crawls towards Davenport, looking up at his Caribbean enemy as he hooks Wes by the leg, and referee Placeholder slides over…




















But much to Hawke’s astonishment, Davenport shoots his good shoulder from off the canvas! “I feared the worse there,” Comet says, “but Davenport pulled through as I knew he would, and his team is still alive in this match!”


The Dean grunts, watching Wildchild smirk, but Hawke wipes that off his face as he rears back and-






-smacks his arm across Davenport chest!






The Woo’s from the crowd are particularly vicious as Hawke smacks Wes with a few more knife-edge chops, backing him into enemy territory. Magnifico is there to accept the tag with glee as Hawke takes Wes’ arm and twists it around. The World Champion quickly hops up onto the top rope and flies off effortlessly, taking the actor around the neck and-






-taking him down with a Blockbuster! Davenport’s cries for help fall on deaf ears as he grits his teeth and holds his injured arm, but Magnifico pushes his shoulders down against the canvas, placing most of the pressure on that same arm!




















“Citizen Davenport has been isolated by these nefarious villains,” Comet grimly reports, “and if he doesn’t reach his partner soon, he may fall victim this terrible twosome!”


“Jesus Comet, you’re almost as melodramatic as Davenport.” King replies. “I mean, look at him, writhing about on the mat, you’d think he’d been shot or something. Disgraceful.”


Right now, Wes’ arm hurts even more than a gun shot, but Magnifico refuses to let up on his challenger, bringing him to his feet, connecting with a flurry of right hands. The Mexican Champion quickly shoots Davenport into the ropes, and on his return, leaps onto the shoulders of the hulking actor. The inmates prepare to roar as Magnifico tries to flip Davenport over with a Hurricanrana, but Wes manages to block it! Wes grimaces as he holds Magnifico on his shoulders, his arm baring the brunt of the pressure, but he tries to put it out of his mind as he falls backward-




-throwing Magnifico throat first over the top rope! The plucky Mexican gasps for air as he turns back around into Davenport’s waiting arms, as the actor shoots a kick forward, doubles the Luchadore over and grabs him around the neck, dropping him head first to the canvas with a DDT!


“It truly is a wonderful DDT!” Comet cries happily as the inmates roar in anger. “Citizen Davenport may have bought himself some time, but he has to make it to Wildchild, or all may be lost!”


Both the World Champion and Challenger are on the mat, chests heaving, the two cursing at each other as they lie on the canvas. Suddenly, they both get onto all fours, trying to reach their respective corners, but Magnifico fares better in this pursuit, as he has the ENTIRE crowd behind him!


“I can’t believe my ears, King!” Comet shouts as the inmates roar behind him, spurring Magnifico on with both cheers and threats of violence. “Usually, Davenport and Wildchild would have the support of the fans, but they’ve had none of it this entire match!”


“And that’s why they’ve been on the back foot from the get-go,” King responds, in awe at the spectacle. “These two feed off the support of the crowd, but now that their drug of choice has been taken away from them, they’re helpless.”


Magnifico has a grin of his face as he nears his corner, Hawke reaching over as far as humanly possible in hopes for a tag. On the other side of the ring, Davenport fares much worse, his arm giving away numerous times on his slow crawl to Wildchild, but he digs in and struggles on, until suddenly…






“Hawke’s in, Hawke’s in!” King shouts in glee as the Dean of Professional wrestling heads through the ropes and makes a beeline for Davenport, his crosshairs set on that injured right arm, but-






“Now Wildchild is in!” Comet cries in reply as the inmate’s growl and the guards ever so quietly voice their support as the Bahaman Bomber enters the ring, Hawke suddenly stopping dead in his tracks. Wildchild goes to work with all haste, charging across the ring and connecting with a flying back elbow against Hawke’s jaw, causing the Dean to stumble backward into the ropes. Hawke, in a daze, rebounds from the ropes where Wildchild lies in ambush, leaping straight up into the air and planting his feet into Hawke’s chest. The inmates curse in vain as Wildchild places his hands behind Hawke’s head and sends him flying across the ring with a an airborne Monkey Flip!


“Freefall!” shouts Comet, bristling with enthusiasm. “Citizen Wildchild pegs one back for the good guys, but more importantly, has thrown Hawke into their own corner, effectively isolating him!”


With his confidence growing, Wildchild blocks the crowd from his mind, focusing only on Hawke and the task at hand. As the Dean woozily climbs to his feet, resting against the turnbuckles, Wildchild makes his move, sprinting across the ring in no time, flying through the air, turning one full revolution, and crashing on top of Hawke with the Blue Crush! Even Davenport’s own self-doubt is put aside for the moment as he spurs Wildchild on, and the Caribbean Cruiser doesn’t want to disappoint.


Hawke stumbles out of the corner after ‘Child’s onslaught, hoping for a reprieve as he heads towards Magnifico, but Wildchild cuts him off, grabbing him and shooting him into the far ropes. On his return, Hawke is doubled over by a spinning kick to the midsection, giving Wildchild enough time to back into the ropes behind him, rush forward and leap into the air. The Cruiser brings his leg over Hawke’s head in an attempt to push him down to the canvas, but at that very moment, Hawke turns his body slightly and falls backward…











-slamming Wildchild down with a modified Electric Chair drop! “Amazing,” King gloats as Wildchild has the wind driven out of him, and Hawke finally gets his respite. “Wildchild could have all the speed, all the flashy maneuvers in the world, but Hawke knows every technical aspect of the game and can counter with minimal effort.”


“I must give Citizen Hawke his due, but he’s not out of the woods just yet! He needs to make a tag… but it looks like Citizen Wildchild seeks to deny him!”


Both men are starting to tire, but Hawke is determined to reach the World Champion, and hopefully turn the tide of battle. Wildchild climbs back to his feet, groggy, but he soon sobers up when he sees Hawke stumble towards his corner! ‘Child quickly grabs Hawke from behind, lifting him up and over with a Back Drop Suplex-




-but Hawke manages to flip out of the move, and land safely on two feet! Before Wildchild can react, Hawke throws a stiff forearm blow at the back of his head, stunning him momentarily, allowing Hawke to grab him by the head in an inverted facelock!


But that doesn’t last long as Wildchild, somehow, finds a way to push himself off the mat and flip over Hawke, landing behind him! With the roles now reverses, Wildchild flips over Hawke, slamming him face first against the canvas with a Flipping Neck Snap!


“I don’t think I’ve EVER seen the Whiplash hit from that position!” shouts Comet, on the edge of his seat. “But he had to think of something to get one step ahead of Citizen Hawke. These two know each other so well that they could counter each other all night!”


As Hawke stares up at the lights, Wildchild throws his entire weight on his chest, pinning him to the canvas! Placeholder rushes over, eager to get out of this place!






Magnifico suddenly tenses up and goes into action, springing onto the top rope…












The Luchadore flies off, the inmates nodding their heads and roaring approvingly as…




















… Magnifico knocks Wildchild off of Hawke in the most violent of fashion with a springboard dropkick to the side of the head!


“YES!” shouts King in orgasmic fashion. “Whatever Wildchild can do, Magnifico can do better!”


Placeholder gets in the World Champion’s face, but the plucky Mexican just shrugs and quietly heads back to his corner. Wildchild has fared better as he climbs back to his feet, stumbling a little…




…. And right into a tag with Davenport! The Caribbean Cruiser finally regains his senses, only to find the actor rushing into the ring to meet Hawke! Davenport, now full of confidence after seeing ‘Child mop the floor with Hawke, lifts the Dean to his feet as ‘Child looks visibly worried, knowing Davenport’s injury could spell defeat. His concerns are well-founded as Davenport tries to whip Hawke into the ropes, but Hawke manages to reverse it expertly, twisting Davenport’s arm around and pulling him in for a clothesline! The actor is almost knocked off his feet, but won’t fall down. Hawke keeps hold of Wes’ arm and whips him into the enemy corner. Davenport hits with a loud thump, and is propelled back towards Hawke, but the actor recovers quickly and shoots Das Boot towards Hawke’s head!




… But Hawke manages to duck underneath! As Davenport has his back turned, Hawke grabs his right arm, trying to lock in the Wing Span! But the actor has prepared, as he does for all his roles, and answers, lowering his head and flipping Hawke over his back. As the Dean lands back on his feet and turns back around, Wes sends a knee into his midsection, grabs him around the neck and lifts him into the air with a vertical Suplex! Wes grimaces as his right arm shoots with searing pain, but he doesn’t keep Hawke in this position for long as he drops him out to the side-






-hitting a spiked Jackhammer on the International Champion!


“It’s time for Citizen Hawke to exit… stage left!” Comet happily announces, as if waiting to say that for a long time.


Davenport cries out as he climbs back to his feet, holding his left arm close to his body. The sheer pain distracts Davenport, and he never sees Magnifico run up behind him. The champion takes Davenport in a Backslide position, runs towards the ropes and climb up each one in turn, flipping over Davenport’s head…






-and driving him face first into the canvas with the Baja California Crusher! Referee Placeholder tries desperately to regain order, but now the wrestlers and all the inmates are rabid as Magnifico makes his way over to Hawke, grabbing him by the arm to drape him across Davenport!


Suddenly, Wildchild appears on the scene, kicking the Luchadore in the ribs before he can place Hawke on top of Davenport! With Magnifico doubled over, ‘Child turns around and locks arms with the Luchadore, dropping straight down to the canvas-









-hitting the Wild Driver! WILD DRIVER!


“WOW!” Comet cries, the action in the ring moving so fast he can barely comprehend it. “Davenport takes out Hawke, Magnifico takes out Davenport, and then Wildchild takes out the World Champion!”


“Damnit!” King shouts, pounding the desk. “They can’t win, not tonight!”


But despite King’s protest, Wildchild has already grabbed Davenport’s arm, which happens to be his injured one. The Caribbean Cruiser drags Davenport’s dead weight slowly but surely onto Hawke, and Placeholder slides across the mat to count!







































“They did it! They finally did it!” Comet cries as the bell is ring, and every single inmate in the asylum voices their anger as, ironically, “Get Over it” begins to play! “Even with all the confusion, Wildchild remembered who the legal men were, and they managed to pull through in the end!”


“Here are your winners,” Funyon shouts, trying to hear himself over the thousands of furious and frustrated felons, “Wes Davenport and WILD CCHHHIIILLLLLLDDDD!”


“And again Davenport somehow gets by through sheer luck, and the help of one of the best tag team partners in the business.” King replies, absolutely seething. “They just scraped by tonight, but I assure you, you won’t see this scene at From the Fire!”


The scene he points to is Wildchild and Davenport having their hands raised by Placeholder, much to the anger of the denizens of San Quentin State Prison. The two men, with the job done, simply nod to each other as they exit the ring in opposite directions. The guard’s surround them, both for protection, and in celebration as they leave.


“This night couldn’t have ended more perfectly! The good guys won in the end, and the miserable slimes of this prison are sent back to their cells disappointed! Thank you for joining us on this very special SWF Lockdown, and remember to join us at From the Fire from an absolutely EXPLOSIVE night!”


“I’m not playing anymore…”


As King sulks, Hawke and Magnifico are given their titles. The four men all look at each other, not having to say anything, because they’ll see each other again soon enough, as we…







Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Wildchild and Melissa are walking towards their rental car after the show, with a fatigued WC perhaps leaning a little too heavily against Melissa’s shoulder.


“Dat match took a little more out of me den I was expectin’,” explains Wildchild. “It’s a good t’ing dat de Pay-Per View isn’t until next week!”


“Don’t worry, Nicky,” assures Melissa. “You’ll be well rested by the time From the Fire comes around, and you’ll be more than ready by the time you step into that cage.”


“Oui,” agrees WC. “Finally, I’m gon’ t’be able t’get my hands on dat little twerp, an’ he won’ be able t’run away f rom me!”


“You know, when we get back to the hotel, I think I’m going to give you a massage to relax those muscles… And then,” she looks up at him with a sly grin, “maybe we’ll relax a few of those other muscles, huh?”


Wildchild breaks into a wide grin as he looks back at Melissa. “I’m feelin’ better already; what are we waitin’…”






“Eek!” Melissa screams out in alarm as she’s pushed out of the way by Jay Hawke, who sneaks up from behind and blasts Wildchild in the back of the head with the International Title, knocking him to the ground! Wildchild struggles to push himself up on his hands, but Jay grabs him by the back of the head and throws him down, face-first, into the concrete! Hawke quickly gets back to his feet and begins kicking WC repeatedly in the head and shoulders. He then pulls Wildchild to his feet and grabs him by the back of the head, leading him towards the chain-link fence surrounding the prison…





… And smashing his face against it! Melissa runs up to come to her man’s aid, but Jay shoves her forcefully to the ground! He grabs the International Title and then pushes WC’s back against the fence, measuring him as he draws his arm back…






... And levels WC with the International Title! Jay bends down over Wildchild as he slumps lifelessly to the ground, dangling the title in his face.


“You may have gotten what you wanted, Wildchild,” Jay growls through clenched teeth, “but you’re not going to want what you’re about to get… Take a good look at this belt, kid, because it’s the closest you’re ever going to get to it…”


Jay suddenly looks up as he hears the sound of people headed his way. “All you’ve succeeded in doing by getting a cage match is ensuring that what I’m going to do to you on the fourteenth is all legal… Once that cage door closes, Dominic, you’re dead meat!”


With that, Jay runs off to get into his rental car and take off before the SWF officials can catch up to him, leaving Wildchild and Melissa lying in his wake…



As we:






SWF Lockdown © 3-08-2006

A Frost Bankrolled Production

Smartmarks Wrestling Federation, 2006

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites
This topic is now closed to further replies.
Sign in to follow this