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SWF Storm, April 7th 2006!

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Earlier Today...


SWF Storm returns from a commercial to the Pyramid, in Memphis, Tennessee. Evil assistant to The Crimson Skull, Heff, is walking down a long hallway, the smell of traditional Memphis barbecue (Smoked camel shoulder with papyrus coleslaw. Oh, wait, not Memphis, Egypt-style barbecue. No wonder nobody was buying any) following him. However, now is not the time to partake of savory morsels. He has been given a job of utmost importance. If only he could find the damn office. Finally, after a minute of wandering (It's strange that a camera would follow him for so long, and it'd be broadcast), Heff comes across the office of one Joseph Peters. Heff boldly enters the room and faces down a receptionist.


"I'm sorry, but Mr. Peters is busy," she says before the evil assistant can state his case.


"But it's urgent..." Heff mutters.


"That's too bad, but he's busy right now."


Drawing on his assertiveness training from Skull, Heff ignores the receptionist and barges into the office proper. Peters is not alone, as the Doomtopian Destroyer, Jimmy the Doom, and Lois the Unethical are discussing something with the commissioner.


"Speak of the Devil. Well, the Devil's minion, at least," Peters says upon noticing Heff.


"What's going on here?" Heff asks, growing bolder by the second.


"These three were just talking about the tag match between The Crimson Skull and Jimmy the Doom," Joe explains.


"Well, I've got something to say about that. Skull asked me to deliver a message, and that message is he refuses to tag with Jimmy the Doom!" Heff exclaims.


"Well, well, well. What an interesting situation we've got. These three were just saying how they didn't trust Skull at all, and were adverse to having Jimmy tag with him. Now, normally, I'd tell all of you to go screw yourselves, because I make the matches, and I don't like changing ones just because somebody doesn't like it. However, in this case, I'll make an exception. There is a problem, though. Who should get replaced, and who should remain in the match? Either way, a new partner has to be found as well."


"I'll replace The Crimson Skull," the Doomstroyer says.


"You? You don't even have a contract! Why do I even let you in the building, for that matter?" Peters asks.


"Yeah, and besides, Jimmy the Doom should be the one to bow out!" Heff exclaims.


"Are you kidding? The Crimson Skull and Jason Von Dierch didn't win a single match in the Lethal Lottery! Doom and Manson nearly made it to the finals!" Lois shouts back.


"I'm going to have to side with Lois. Skull is out, so, as far as I see it, you're no longer needed here, Heff. Excuse yourself," Peters barks.


Grumbling, the assistant stomps out of the office.


"Like I said, though, you don't have a contract. But Lois does..." Joe says, contemplating.


"No! I shall be Jimmy the Doom's partner!" the Doomtopian Destroyer shouts. "Lois, Jimmy, please allow me to attempt to convince Mister Peters here in private."


The two original Doomtopians exit the office, and the Doomstroyer stares Joseph down.


"Hey now. Before you think of doing anything, let me remind you of that camera, and since you aren't on the roster in any form, not only would Janus be able to do whatever he wants to you, but then you'd be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law," Peters says, pointing to a camera in the ceiling (Odd that he wouldn't reference the giant camera in front of him).


"Ah, I think not. You see, I was granted diplomatic immunity when I came here to be Jimmy the Doom's bodyguard."


"You aren't a diplomat! How the hell can you have diplomatic immunity when you aren't a fucking diplomat?" Peters questions.


Before answering, the Doomtopian Destroyer turns to face the camera, forces it out of the office, and shuts the door. Muffled voices can be heard, and then the shatter of glass. Several seconds later, the door flies open, and the Doomstroyer walks out.


"Fine, you can be Jimmy the Doom's partner, but listen, I'll be watching you! Anything I see that I don't like, and, just watch it...." Joe trails off, obviously upset.


The door slams shut, and the three Doomtopians exit the office.


"Never underestimate a Doomstroyer's power of negotiation," the Doomstroyer says.


"Of welled, preparings to be soon, matches with several better," Jimmy adds.


To Be Continued.

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(7:00pm PST, 10:00pm EST; check local listings)







Wildchild © vs. Michael Cross


---> Family matters all taken care of - Wildchild is back, and he's ready to defend his property! On Smarkdown, Michael Cross bested a former International Champion and a former World Title Contender to win a shot at the title. Cross and Akira recently lost their tag team gold, but Akira fights on in the Cruiserweight Division - will Cross find singles gold of his own tonight?


Rules: Standard singles match.

Word Limit: 6000

Send to: chirs3




Iron Australian Knockout Challenge

JJ Johnson vs. Janus


---> I dunno, man. If Janus was my boss, I'd try not to shirk my duties. There's a reason they call him the Hell Machine, you know.


In any event, JJ tempted Fate, and Fate is about to open up a can. After proudly claiming he would be on his way to the World Title, JJ mucked up his triple threat match, prompting no small amount of ridicule from people backstage, Joseph Peters included. Peters, being a charitable sort of fellow, is still willing to toss JJ a Number One Contender bone - as long as he can take down Janus.


Yeah, right.


Rules: No clue.

Word Limit: 5500

Send to: realitycheck





"The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu © vs. Christian Fury


---> Akira asks for defense! Akira gets defense! Having dismantled every contender thus far, the odds are in his favor, but Christian Fury has been known to bring the funk, among other things, when the situation so requires it. He's got a crack at the Cruiserweight Championship - with that kind of motivation, he's certainly capable of the upset.


Rules: Standard singles match, with Cruiserweight addenda - 20 count outside, no throwing over the top rope.

Word Limit: 5500

Send to: Justice





Bruce Blank vs. Insane Luchadore


---> DAAAAAAAMN. Amy Stephens brought Bruce's legendary title reign to a screeching halt on Smarkdown, and if I know Bruce, he is just a teensy bit less than thrilled right now. He wants revenge! HE WANTS A REMATCH BUT OH NO HE DOESN'T GET IT YET! After his little cage-collapsing stunt a few shows ago, Peters booked Bruce vs. IL Round 2 in advance - so instead of getting a crack at his title, he's got to get through Insane Luchadore!


Rules: Hell if I know. I meant to ask Bruce, but forgot. D'oh. Will edit in.

Word Limit: 5000

Send to: janusd




"Hollywood" Spike Jenkins vs. Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix


---> Landon has reluctantly agreed to stop breaking necks. Ironic that around the same time, Spike Jenkins has turned into a crazed people-attacking fiend. Let's see how it feels for Landon to be on the receiving end of a crazy-man ass kicking!


Rules: Standard singles match.

Word Limit: 5000

Send to: Evolution




Amy Stephens © vs. Zyon (non title)


---> Scheduling conflicts prevent Bruce Blank from cashing in his automatic rematch until next show - in the mean time, Amy's looking for a fight, and we're only too happy to oblige! Zyon, no stranger to hardcore matches, will keep her in tune.


Rules: In a strange turn of events, this will be fought under standard Hardcore rules! Falls count anywhere, no DQ, no count out!

Word Limit: 5000

Send to: chirs3




Kevin Coyote and Avery vs. Jimmy the Doom and The Crimson Skull


---> Now normally, you'd think Jimmy the Doom and The Crimson Skull would be the strangest team on the card, but given Avery's actions last show, Team Kevvery may be giving them a run for their money. In any event, Jimmy is no stranger to tag team success - can he put aside his differences with the Skull in order to school the untested Coyote and Avery?


Rules: Standard tag team match.

Word Limit: 5000

Send to: The Superstar





Grendel vs. Matt "The Cosplay Master" Myers


---> <Butcher> Ahhh! Fresh meat! </Butcher> A newcomer arrives in the SWF, and is set up in the obligatory Matt Myers match! Can Myers end his 381293821912 match losing streak? I think so.

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SWF Storm begins.


There is no music. No lights. No special fanfare. Everyone is sitting silently, their hands folded, waiting for the first match to begin.


“Welcome to Storm, folks!” says Edwin MacPhisto. “We are going to kick things off with a bang tonight, the introduction of our newest acquisition, Grendel! As we all know, there isn’t a better way to start your career than by facing the “Cosplay Master” himself, Matt Myers!”


“Good Lord, Almighty,” Suicide King bemoans. “I’m not to sure if I can sit through another Matt Myers match! That dude fuc--”


“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” exclaims Edwin MacPhisto. “Let’s just get these guys out here!”


All of a sudden, the song “I'm a Medieval Man”, a song many fans of WarCraft II would recognize, begins to play over the arena. The song goes on for a few bars before Matt Myers himself comes out from behind the curtains wearing a wolf skin over his head and back, and wielding a sword in his left hand.


“From Honolulu, Hawaii, and weighing in at 221lbs, please welcome to the ring the “Dragon Slayer” Matt “BEYOWULF” Myers!”


“So I guess Myers is planning on slaying this new recruit tonight,” says Suicide King. “I wonder if he would be fired if he lost to Myers.”


“I don’t think that has happened yet,” Edwin answers, “and something tells me we aren’t going to see that happen tonight.”


“Oh?” replies Suicide King, “know something and not sharing are we?”


“No.” Edwin calmly responds. “Well…okay, I did see some tapes of Grendel wrestling down in Mexico. Let me be the first to say that he looked pretty darn sharp. We didn’t just pick up some OVW experiment, you know.”


After making his way into the ring, Myers motions for the booing fans to sit back down and shut up. He is ready to pick up his first win in nearly a decade. He *thinks* that he is ready to take on a man named Grendel.


Evanescence’s “Bring me to Life” begins to play while the bright lights slowly dim. Only a moment in time has passed and already the crowd is stirring. They’ve heard about the coming of this new wrestler and they are eager to finally see what the hype is about. Amy Lee’s voice sings out:


“How can you see into my eyes like open doors”


“Leading you down into my core where I’ve become so numb”


“without a soul”


Flashes of lights, reminiscent of a lighting storm approaching, can be seen on the stage. Everything that transpires on the stage is in perfect rhythm with the music, slowly building towards the debut.


“My spirit sleeping somewhere cold”


“Until you find it there and lead…it…back…










Pyro’s erupt all over the stage as the song hits its hardest! Finally, Grendel makes his grand entrance to the SWF amidst all the fireworks, appearing at the conclusion of the last rocket explosion!


“From Manhattan, New York, and weighing in at 220lbs, he is “The Spirit of Agression”, Grendel!”


Cheers ring out from abroad. This ‘Grendel’ most definitely has a cool look to him, as do most masked wrestlers. Especially when they carry a weapon not seen by many such as the fork that Grendel owns. Grendel heads to the ring, carrying this weapon over his shoulder. Grendel stops just short of the ring when Myers approaches, already trying to kick at him before he even gets in!


“Myers is not here to give this new recruit a warm welcome, that’s for sure,” says Edwin.


Matt leans over the top rope, slinging vulgarities at Hunter Rose, the Grendel, like they were going out of style. Already, Grendel has seen enough. He carefully sets his fork down…and then suddenly leaps up to the outside ring apron and grabs Matt Myers by both sides of his head then jumps off the ring apron, to the floor, to guillotine “Beyowulf” with the top rope!


The crowd pops after seeing this and while watching “Beyowulf” gagging. Matt turns away from the ropes, placing his back to Grendel while holding onto his neck with both hands. Grendel is a man who never fails to seize the opportunity presented to him and this will be no different. He hops back up to the ring apron and then carefully gets to the top rope, springing off with a forward flip. Grendel reaches back and grabs Matt by the head as he flips over then sends a jolt through Myers like one he’d never felt before as he completes the stunner!


“OH MY GOD!” shouts Edwin MacPhisto. “That was Grendel’s Curse!”


“The bell just rang when Grendel entered the ring to ring Myers’ brain!” shouts Suicide King. “This could be over in record time!”


Matt flops to the ring mat and Grendel covers.









“The winner of this bout, Grendel!” the ring announcer says.


The referee raises Grendel’s arm and Evanescence’s ‘Bring me to Life’ plays again. Matt Myers just lies motionless.


“What a sweeping victory by Grendel, and he didn’t even have to try! I’d like to see what he can do next week when he faces a real opponent!”


“What, you mean Matt Myers isn’t real?” says Suicide King.


“He’s a real creampuff,” Edwin answers. “Anyway, stay tuned for more as the Storm continues its assault on Televisions everywhere!”

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SWF Storm returns after a commerical for Danny Williams' Strong Style Ribs: Try the new Ghost Machine 2.0 Microchipped Beef Sandwich, "So good, it'll make you defrag yo' momma!" and Edwin MacPhisto and the Suicide King come into view.


"Welcome back to Storm! We've had some interesting goings on so far, and right now, the action continues, as Kevin Coyote and Avery Duciel take on Jimmy the Doom and not the Crimson Skull, as he has been replaced by the Doomtopian Destroyer," Edwin explains.


"I just hope that Coyote and Duciel make short work of those Doomtopian idiots," King mutters.


"Please refrain from ethnic bigotry tonight, lest I smack the taste out of your mouth, bitch," MacPhisto shoots back.


Just as King is about to retort with a killer burn regarding Edwin's mother, the lights turn orange and Incredibad's "Just 2 Guyz" blares over the speakers.


"Ladies and gentlemen, the following tag team match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, being accompanied by Lois the Unethical, hailing from Doomopolis, Doomtopia, and weighing five hundred, ten pounds, the Straight-Bread Sensation, Jimmy the Doom and the Doomtopian Destroyer, they are THE NEEEEW DOOOOMTOPIANS!" Funyon screams.


Jimmy and the Doomstroyer walk out, Lois right behind. The three Doomtopians march down to the ring, focused on the task at hand.


"Say, why are they called The New Doomtopians? There never was a team called The Doomtopians," King points out.


"Well, you're called the Suicide King, yet you've never once even attempted to kill yourself," Edwin notes.


The Doomtopian men slide inside the ring. The orange glow fades out, as does "Just 2 Guyz", only to be replaced with flashing white lights and Disturbed's "I'm Alive". Kevin Coyote saunters down the ramp, chatting away on his cellphone, oblivious to the booing fans.


"And their opponents! Introducing first, from Brunswick, Georgia. He stands five feet, eleven inches tall, and weighs two hundred, twenty-five pounds, KEEEVIN COYYYYOTEEE!" Funyon booms.


Kevin waits in front of the ring, wary to enter it while two larger men are on the inside. The arena lights dim, making Coyote more nervous about the possibility of getting his face punched, but a tiny flickering light from the stage helps put Kevin's fear to rest. Avery Duciel reaches up and lights a fuse, and, like most fuses, travels to an explosive. A shower of red and orange sparks rain down from said explosive, along with towers of sparks of the aforementioned colors. As the explosions die down, Curve's "Chinese Burn" roars over the speakers.


"And his partner, from Atlanta, Georgia. Weighing one hundred, thirty pounds and standing five feet, five inches tall, she is AAAVERRRYYY 'FIREBUG' DUUUCIEL!" Funyon shouts.


The lights return to normal, and Avery walks down the ramp, as sparks fall short of landing on her hair. She joins Coyote, and both Georgians climb into the ring. Kevin hangs his jacket on his team's ringpost, and Avery stashes her Zippo in the corner. Duciel exits the ring, leaving Kevin inside with the Doomstroyer, and referee Tee Martin calls for the bell.




Coyote and the big Doomtopian begin circling, Kevin trying to stay out of his opponent's grasp, while the Destroyer makes a few half-hearted swipes. Kevin darts in with a low dropkick, taking the Doomstroyer to one knee. Coyote rolls away and pops back to his feet. The Doomstroyer tries to stand, but eats a heel kick to the face. Kevin lashes out with another kick, and then a yanks the Doomtopian forward with a DDT.


"Nice flurry of offense from Kevin Coyote, but this Doomtopian Destroyer is a big man, and it's going to take a lot more to keep him down," Edwin says.


"Considering Coyote hasn't tried for a pin yet, you don't know that," King bites back.


Coyote pulls the Destroyer towards his own corner, and tags in Avery. Duciel hops to the top rope and leaps off, planting both feet in the Doomstroyer's stomach. 'Firebug' takes hold of the Doomstroyer's left leg and laces a kick into the hamstring. Avery kicks the Doomtopian once more, tags Coyote back in, and stands to the side, keeping hold of the Destroyer's leg. Kevin grabs the top rope and launches himself between the middle and bottom ropes, dropkicking the Doomtopian in the leg.


"Good teamwork from Duciel and Coyote to target the Doomstroyer's legs. If he's confined to the mat, there isn't much he can do in terms of smashing," MacPhisto states.


"Of course it's good teamwork! Avery Duciel and Kevin Coyote are smart and trained wrestlers. Jimmy the Doom is a doofus with a weird speech pattern that can get hit a lot, and this Doomstroyer is just a big, lumbering jackass," King replies.


"Well, if you said it, it must be true!"


Avery punts the Doomstroyer in the ribs before exiting the ring. Kevin hauls the Doomtopian Destroyer off the mat, and attempts an Irish whip, only to find himself heading for the ropes. Coyote bounces back, right into a double axe handle. The Doomstroyer plucks Kevin off the mat and launches him into the corner of The New Doomtopians with a choke toss. The Destroyer tags in Jimmy, and the two Doomtopians punch Coyote in the face.


"Now Jimmy the Doom is in the ring, and the pace should pick up," Edwin says.


"Unless Kevin and Avery target his legs," King points out.


The Destroyer exits the ring, and Jimmy pulls Kevin out of the corner. The Straight-Bread Sensation laces a shotei into Kevin's chest, then whips him into the ropes. Coyote snaps back and knocks Doom to the mat with a dropkick. Kevin pulls Jimmy up and bashes him in the face with a knee. Coyote lands another knee, and follows it up with a DDT. Kevin rolls Jimmy over and makes a lateral press.







"Kick out from Doom just barely after one. He's a tough nut to crack, and a DDT has never been a good nutcracker," Edwin notes.


"Oh, I don't know, Edwin. I mean, put a coconut underneath Jimmy's head and we'll see how things stand then," King replies.


"I think your stupid face would work a lot better," MacPhisto quips back.


Coyote clambers back up and is followed soon after by Jimmy the Doom. The Straight-Breader launches a heel kick, but Kevin manages to duck under and plant a kick of his own into the back of Jimmy's knee, dropping the Doomtopian. Kevin latches on to Jimmy's leg and drags him towards Avery. Coyote tags in his hybrid manager-girlfriend, who springboards into the ring, smashing an elbow into Doom's leg.


"See? Told you they'd go for Doom's legs, too. Keep both of them immobile and it should be easy pickings for Coyote and Duciel. Of course, it'd be even easier pickings if Kevin just bashed Jimmy in the face with some brass knuckles a few dozen times," King says.


"I don't know, King. Team CD has their work cut out for them if they want to limit Jimmy the Doom's mobility," Edwin replies.


Avery scrambles over and boots Doom in the ribs before leaping up and dropping a knee into his stomach. Duciel yanks the Straight-Breader into a seated position and lances a roundhouse into his chest. The 'Firebug' cracks Jimmy with another kick in the torso, then blasts him with a dropkick. Avery makes a lateral press.







"Jimmy the Doom kicks out again, and now it looks like Avery is going after Jimmy's upperbody," MacPhisto states.


"Another good plan, as both Avery and Kevin have finishers that target the torso. Besides, just like in boxing, work an opponent's body, and they'll tire quickly," King points out.


Duciel tries to pick the Straight-Bread Sensation off the mat, but gets smacked with a shotei. Avery kicks Jimmy in the ribs, but doesn't get a chance to land another, as Doom rolls away and gets to his feet. Duciel and Doom charge one another, and Jimmy leaps, wrapping his legs around Avery's body, the momentum knocking her to the canvas. Jimmy smashes 'Firebug' with a pair of elbows, then presses her shoulders to the mat.







"And Avery Duciel manages to roll a shoulder off the mat. I'm curious to see how Jimmy handles things in the ring against Avery," Edwin says.


"I doubt he'll be in control for very long. Coyote and Duciel should gain the upperhand again in a short amount of time."


Doom releases his body scissors and pulls Avery to her feet. The Straight-Bread Sensation drives a knee into her stomach, then follows up with a twisting belly to belly slam. Jimmy slides over and hooks Avery's far leg while Tee Martin drops to count the pin.







"Kick out from Duciel. She's really showing her toughness right now," Edwin says.


"She needs to tag in Coyote, though. I doubt that Avery would be able to hang with the Doomtopian Destroyer," King points out.


The Straight-Breader scrambles to his feet, while Avery lags behind a bit. Duciel finally stands, and throws a left hand that Jimmy traps. 'Firebug' goes for an eye rake, but the Doomtopian snares that arm as well, trapping Avery in a double armbar. The Straight-Bread Sensation leans back and snaps down with a headbutt. Doom bashes Duciel with another before walking her to his own corner. Jimmy lets go of Avery's left arm, and transitions the armbar into an armwringer. Doom tags in the Doomstroyer, and with Jimmy holding 'Firebug' in place, the Destroyer hauls off with a backhand slap.


"Oof. That is one strong pimp hand," MacPhisto notes.


"Shocking as it may be, I have to agree with you. Brutal slap from the Doomstroyer," King adds.


Jimmy exits the ring lest Tee Martin punch Doom with his National Championship ring (Suck it, Peyton Manning!), and the Destroyer picks Avery off the mat. He whips Duciel into the ropes and smacks her with another backhand. The Doomstroyer belts Avery in the gut with a backhand slap, then straightens her up with another. Slightly dazed from the rapid assault, 'Firebug' is helpless as the Doomtopian Destroyer spins around and knocks her to the mat with yet another slap.


"Discuss backhand slap from the Doomstroyer, and it looks like that's all he plans on using against Avery Duciel! I must say, what a douche."


"So, slapping a female wrestler around is worse than dropping her on her head? Speaking of which, how is it that you can break two guys' necks, and still get cheered, yet I just bribe a few refs and pull some underhanded tactics, and everyone hates me?" King inquires.


"Well, Silent was and is a dick, so nobody really cared, and Raynor was no longer a fun-loving caveman, so people were happy when I did it then," MacPhisto explains.


The Doomstroyer stradles Avery and begins firing off backhands. Unable to control his rage, Coyote vaults over the top rope and knocks the Destroyer off of Duciel with a dropkick. Kevin climbs on top of the Destroyer and laces in a trio of gut punches. Coyote bashes the masked Doomtopian with an elbow, but gets smashed with a meaty fist. Kevin lands another gut punch, but is quickly pulled off by Jimmy the Doom. Referee Tee Martin steps between Doom and Coyote and orders both men to return to their respective corners. They slowly comply, and as they head back, Avery climbs to her feet and boots the Doomstroyer in the groin. Duciel waits for the Destroyer to rise, and the moment he does, he eats a roundhouse to the stomach. The Doomtopian Destroyer rears back for a backhand, but Avery slips underneath and nails him with another kick to the ribs. 'Firebug' bashes the Doomtopian with a knee to the gut, and flips him to the mat with a head scissors takedown.


"And with that highly illegal low blow, Team CD looks to have retaken control of this match. I'm sure you're loving that," Edwin mutters.


"Of course I am! It was perfect!" King exclaims.


Duciel gets to her feet and tags in Coyote. Kevin rushes over to the Doomstroyer and punts him in the face. Coyote pulls the Doomtopian off the mat and and shoots him into the ropes. Coyote follows after the Destroyer and buries a kick into his stomach off the rebound. Kevin slaps on a front facelock and twists the Doomstroyer down with a neckbreaker. Coyote makes a lateral press, and Martin slides down to count it.













"Kick out from the Doomtopian Destroyer after a nice neckbreaker from Kevin Coyote. I think it's in Team CD's best interest to keep the Doomstroyer in the ring as much as possible, because, despite his strength, it doesn't look like he can take as much punishment as Jimmy the Doom," MacPhisto points out.


"Will you stop calling them Team CD! I'm sure they have a much better name picked out."


"I think that Team Certificate of Deposit is a good name. It's kind of a twist, because most people would think Compact Disc," Edwin adds.


"That hair dye has obviously dissolved your brain," King mutters, head in his hands.


"That might be true, but I've got something you don't have."


"I don't want it, whatever it is," King replies.


"Oh come on! How could anyone not want this kick ass goatee? It's puffy! Puffy like a bunny!" MacPhisto shouts.


Coyote pulls the Doomtopian Destroyer up and belts him with a roundhouse. Kevin nails the Destroyer with a gut punch, and applies a front facelock. Coyote tries to pull the Doomtopian down, but instead gets launched overhead by the Doomstroyer. The Destroyer doesn't follow up the attack, though, but tags in the Straight-Bread Sensation. Jimmy waits for Kevin to get back up, and charges. Doom leaps and nails Coyote with a flying front kick to the chest. Doom spins around and makes a cover.







"Shoulder up from Coyote after that vicious kick from Jimmy the Doom. If only he lived in the 19th Century, he could have made a killing by kicking people in the chest to help with consumption," MacPhisto says.


"You just referenced tuberculosis. Are you trying to get people to change the channel?" King asks.


"No, your voice and visage handle that just fine," Edwin shoots back.


Doom pulls Kevin off the mat and shunts him into the ropes. Jimmy quickly adopts the crane kick pose, and jumps just as Coyote lowers his head and buries it in Doom's gut, planting him with a spear. Kevin rolls both of Jimmy's legs up, stacking the Straight-Breader's shoulders on the mat.







"And Coyote nearly gets a near fall after avoiding that Yak Kick and hitting a spear."


"I am surprised. I expected you to be witty and off the wall, but it seems that you have succumbed to the traits of Longdogger Pete and his penchant for stating the obvious. I can only hope your long-lost son surfaces and roughs you up a bit," King says.


"Pshaw, King. I'd defeat any progeny in fisticuffs, for I have the advantage of possessing named fists. Meet Knuckles and Chuckles," Edwin replies, holding up his hands and proffering each to King in turn.


"Where's a bland Australian when you need one?" King mumbles.


Coyote leads Doom over to his own corner, and tags in Avery Duciel. 'Firebug' laces a chop into Jimmy's chest, while Kevin climbs to the middle rope. Duciel shoves the Straight-Bread Sensation into the ropes and pulls him to the mat with a hurricanrana. Avery quickly rolls away as Coyote crashes down on top of Doom with a leg drop. Kevin scrambles out of the ring and Duciel makes a cover.










"Shoulder up from Jimmy the Doom after a nice Flamethrower hurricanrana and second rope leg drop combination from Avery Duciel and Kevin Coyote!" Edwin exclaims. "Team CD is certainly displaying some nice teamwork."


"Of course they are. It really helps that one of them doesn't use the same move over and over against one of their opponents," King points out.


Avery hauls Jimmy back to a vertical base and begins working at knocking him down, lacing kicks into the Doomtopian's body. Duciel brings the Straight-Breader into a doubled over position with a standing side headlock, and makes for her team's corner. 'Firebug' races up the turnbuckles and twists around. However, Jimmy's a fairly strong man, and Avery is a not of stout build. Suffice it to say, the Doomtopian quashes the tornado bulldog with Duciel in mid-air, and begins to fall backwards. Unfortunately for Jimmy, both he and Avery are fairly close to the ropes, so close in fact, that 'Firebug' is able to wrap both legs around the top rope. Not wanting to see his girlfriend get her brain scrambled, Coyote drops off the apron and yanks back on Jimmy's ankles, assisting Avery with the bulldog. Duciel turns Jimmy over and makes a cover, taking care to put both feet on the middle rope.
























"Shoulder up from Jimmy the Doom! That was an incredible sequence! Avery nearly planted Doom with a tornado bulldog, but the Straight-Bread Sensation tried to counter with a back drop driver, only for Avery to latch on to the top rope," Edwin says.


"How can you forget Kevin Coyote's involvement? That was a fine piece of cheating right there."


Avery reaches out and tags Kevin back into the match. Coyote points to the top turnbuckle, which Duciel climbs. Kevin grabs Doom in a front headlock and Avery jumps off the top rope. Coyote snaps Jimmy over, 'Firebug' connecting with the missile dropkick as Kevin hoists the Straight-Bread Sensation off the mat. Duciel rolls out of the ring and Kevin makes a lateral press, clutching a handful of jeans.
















"And another kick out from Jimmy the Doom! I must admit, that was a great double team move."


"It wasn't bad, but it suffered from lack of illegality," King states.


Kevin stands, looking a bit frustrated at Jimmy’s resilience. He grabs the Straight-Breader by his hair and pulls him up off the mat. Obviously not in peak condition, Jimmy stumbles around in the ring more than Ted Kennedy at a political rally. Lining up his shot first, Coyote winds back and nails him with a thunderous left hand… but it has no effect! Jimmy’s mouth drops open as he starts to shake his arms vigorously, regaining his balance. Coyote throws another left hand, but it only serve’s to make Jimmy stronger!


“He’s dooming up!” says an excited Edwin MacPhisto.


“Nights like tonight make me long for Pete.”


Coyote takes another swing at Doomtopia’s most famous man, but it’s blocked by the right arm of Jimmy! He sticks out his left hand and wags his finger from side to side as if to say a defiant “no-no-no!” The crowd goes wild! … until Coyote just simply clotheslines the Doomtopian almost out of his boots! Kevin drops down to make the cover.











TWO AND 1/2!







THREE NOOOOO~!! Jimmy once again kicks out just in time!


“That was an awful lot of white space for just a clothesline,” King says critically.


“Must you always complain?” Edwin openly ponders. “You should think about happy things… like my jacket!”


Kevin pushes himself up off the mat and goes over and tags in his partner and girlfriend Avery Duciel. Avery climbs the corner turnbuckle and turns around to face the audience. She jumps, pushing off the ropes, and backflips in the air looking to hit a picture perfect moonsault…




“Holy hell!” squeals Edwin. “The Doomstroyer just plucked Avery out of midair with some kind of spear piledriver combination!”


“What a monster!” King agrees. “I kind of like it…”


“Put the wood away, King of Hearts… what was with that, anyways? That’s a little gay, even for me.”


The Doomstroyer grabs the nearly unconscious Avery Duciel by the hand and drags her away from her corner as Kevin is drawn into the ring, gathering the attention of Referee Tee Martin who quickly rushes over to block any interference. Kevin stomps the ring in anger as he’s forced back out and The Doomstroyer releases his grip on Duciel. With both teams about equally strewn across the ring, we now have a hot tag situation.


“Whoever makes the tag first will have an obvious advantage here!” says Edwin “Captain Obvious” MacPhisto.


At ringside, Lois the Unethical looks at The Doomstroyer a little awkwardly, but shrugs off his uncharacterized aggression and begins to pound the mat to try and cheer Jimmy on. The Straight-Bread Sensation easily rolls over and pushes himself up, only to stumble a little. With his opponent still down, Jimmy easily lunges to make the tag!



… to Kevin Coyote. *Sigh* Obviously still confused, Jimmy picks himself back up to one knee and tries to shake the cobwebs from his head. Avery begins to stir, but Jimmy is back up to his feet now and staggers towards his own corner this time.


… closer…




… closer…






… closer…



… only to get clubbed from behind by Kevin Coyote when he’s merely a foot away! The cocky young man throws his arms out to challenge The Doomstroyer to come get him, drawing the mammoth of a man into the ring! This time, Tee Martin is there to stop the Doomstroyer, though, and Kevin quickly pulls Avery across the ring to his corner before simply clapping his hands together once to simulate the tag. The Doomstroyer finally leaves the ring, leaving Kevin and Jimmy as the recognized legal men once again.


“What an underhanded trick… I love it!” King says with a smile.


“I never got the same feeling when I tried to do it over handed,” Edwin quips, gathering an awkward silence in return.


Kevin pulls Jimmy to his feet and locks on a basic headlock to try and stall the match while he thinks of his next move. The Doomster surprises him, though, and wraps his arms around Kevin’s waist before whipping back his weight for an awkward looking suplex and a bridge.







Kevin manages to roll his shoulder off the mat and break the hold. Both men climb back to their feet, but Kevin is quicker and releases a high kick that lands square on the chin! Somehow the Doomtopian doesn’t go down though, and instead just lowers to his knee. The young MacDougal takes off running for the ropes and jumps onto the middle one, and with an amazing sense of balance, propels himself back to deliver another kick to Jimmy’s face! He quickly covers…








NO! Another kick out!


“It’s hard out here for a Doomtopian. Jimmy is taking a lot of punishment!”


“Both of these teams will do whatever it takes to make sure we never have another Lethal Lottery,” King shoots.


With Jimmy laying on the mat Kevin hits a few gut punches before jumping back to his feet and taking off for the ropes. He jumps onto that pesky middle rope again and bounces himself back, flipping in air, and landing a Full Moon Assault!


“Picture perfect Full Moon Assault! This match is over!” King announces confidently.


Coyote stays on top of the dim-eyed Jimmy for the pin attempt, and Tee Martin slides in to make the count!















As the referee’s hand was about to hit the mat, The Doomstroyer simply grabbed Coyote by the top of his pants and scruff of his shirt and lifted him off of his tag team partner. The Doomstroyer tosses the much smaller man to the side and begins to pursue him, but referee Tee Martin is there once again to block any advances. Meanwhile, a rejuvenated Avery Duciel climbs the corner turnbuckle and jumps with ease, and connects fully with the Trial By Fire, Avery’s very own version of a shooting star press! She signals for Kevin to cover, but the referee is still distracted by The Doomstroyer. Tee starts to turn around to see the pin, but The Doomstroyer grabs the side of his shirt to get his attention again! Martin is angered by the move and threatens to disqualify The New Doomtopians, but The Doomstroyer releases his hold. The referee turns his attention back to the match and realizes that there’s a pin attempt!






TWO! Kick out!


Jimmy kicks out easily now after being pinned for well over the three second mark.


“Kevin just got cheated out of the win.” King says with a hint of apathy in his tone.


“You don’t sound very upset about that King.”


“The Doomstroyer keeps cheating… I’m torn as to who I want to win!”


Both men are fresh now after the long delay in the match, but Kevin takes control once again with a couple of quick elbow smashes followed by a snapmare take down. Kevin signals to Avery, and a shiny object comes flying into the ring which Kevin catches and quickly pockets it. Coyote once again pulls Jimmy to his feet and locks his arms around the waist of his opponent before… wedgie! Jimmy reaches around and releases his most humiliating attack yet, a full wedgie! Coyote pushes the giggling Doomtopian away and tries to reposition himself before going to clothesline Jimmy, but he ducks! Kevin spins on his heels to be greeted with a… single hand palm thrust? Say it with some conviction! Sorry… SINGLE HAND PALM TH… fuck that, it’s a one handed shove. Coyote is now not only angry, he’s starting to be embarrassed. Maybe a little embarrassed for Jimmy, even. Feeling his Wheaties, Jimmy takes off for the far ropes and comes charging back for a flying body scissors takedown! Coyote just steps aside from this, though, and Jimmy comes crashing down on the mat.


“Oh… that’s too bad,” King spits sarcasm of FIYAH!


Confused and alone, Jimmy pushes himself back up to his feet and teeters a little. He feels a slight tap-tap-tap on his shoulder causing him to spin around on his heels into a hard clothesline! Coyote Takedown! Kevin covers for the














Kick out! Again? This is getting ridiculous! These must be the thoughts running through the former Smark Enough contestant’s head as Jimmy The Doom gathers the strength to kick out of another near fall. Kevin pushes himself to his feet before reaching down into his pocket to pull out… his brass knuckles!


“He’s going to hit Jimmy with those brass knuckles!” warns Edwin.


The Doomstroyer wont have any of this, though, and he enters the ring to club Kevin from behind! Martin once again forces The Doomstroyer out of the ring and we have another hot tag situation. The unusually animated Lois The Unethical does her best to get the crowd to clap along with her in a sign of support for The New Doomtopians, but it’s highly unorganized and below Doomtopian standards. Jimmy and Kevin inch closer to their corners, and Jimmy gets the tag first! Avery fakes her tag with a simple clap, and we have two new competitors charging into the ring! Avery has second thoughts, but it’s too late and the big man is on her with a series of backhand slaps! Kevin can’t take this, and some how manages to muscle enough strength to get back into the fight… but The Doomstroyer is on a roll! He grabs Kevin by his hand and whips him across the ring as if he were a rag doll. Coyote bounces off the ropes and comes flying back into


“HAVA NAGILA!!!” Yells the Masked Doomtopian, sending a punch that could rip through a man directly to the heart of Kevin. Avery climbs to her feet to confront him, but she gets slapped one last time for good measure before tagging back out to Jimmy! With Avery down, Jimmy climbs the ropes and jumps off for the legendary Jimmy Jump! A 540 Splash!


“Oh my God! Jimmy landed on his neck! Someone check on him!” Edwin sells the move.


“That will serve him right!”


Jimmy pushes himself up, no-selling the fact that he just landed on his neck, and covers Avery! Tee Martin slides down to count the pin, as the Doomstroyer climbs into the ring.









(The Doomtopian Destroyer puts his hand on Jimmy’s back and leans in a little to give him a little extra help.)






THREE!!! *Ding ding ding!*


Funyon announces the winners as King and Edwin are left to wonder…


“What the hell was that?”







Edited by chirs3

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SWF Storm returns from the most recent Star Wipe commercial that stars everyone’s favorite corpse, Elvis. With a wide shot of the profitably packed Pyramid, located across the natural surface of Memphis, Tennessee…OH YEAH! A mass amount of individuals do what they can to get noticed, hoping that someday they will qualify for Nashville Star. The pride-fueled minority sits firmly, keeping their composure in check as the camera pans to tonights announce team.


“I’m the King…the King of Memphis, Tennessee…I knocked that Macphisto out…” Suicide King greets the returning viewers with an eerily similar version of an old Kaufman classic.


In the background a couple rabid, colorful characters religiously chant Edwin Macphisto’s name.


“You may very well be the King of Hearts, but if you ever sing again, I might just have to get my pet Jaguar to attack you.” Edwin already confuses his former rival.


“A Jaguar?” The Gambling Man shakes his head from side to side with the realization that he is going to have to put up with the so called Prince of Flash and other non noteworthy garbage. “Lucky for me, I get to go home to this every night…WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!!”


The Mac Daddy is all smiles per usual, “You sure have yourself a winner there.”


On the brink of restarting the epic Suicide King/Edwin Macphisto feud, the Gambling Man notices the picture of his wife has been replaced with a well doctored photo of Johnny Dangerous…naked.


It is almost a definite that the legendary big mouth known, as the Suicide King would indeed respond to the NC-17 rated photo, but the Smarktron that literally costed an arm and a leg beats him to the punch.




“I’m…Edwin Macphisto. Coming to the ring is someone deemed by many, or himself as the Unique Youth. The only thing unique about this guy is what makes me a regular. Everybody is unique, while I the Mac Daddy is the ultimate regular. So tonight when I…”


King is absolutely beside himself, “Edwin…are you seriously cutting one of your asinine promo’s during Zyon’s entrance?”


“Well, yeah.” Edwin answers with the simplicity of a child.


Behind Edwin’s short promo is the rocking beat of Incubus’s “Vitamin” that signifies the emergence of the Unique Youth! Saluting the crowd at the top of the ramp, Zyon begins his casual diminutive sprint to the ring.


“The following contest is a non title, HARDCORE MATCH! First, hailing from Elkhart, Indiana; weighing in tonight at 200 lbs. He is the UNIQUE YOUTH, ZYYYYYYOOOONNNNN!!!!”


Funyon booms over his microphone as Zyon enters the ring, heading directly to the center. Performing his usual head bang, Zyon ends the theatrics with a simple lift of his right arm before waiting in a random corner of the ring.


“As you can tell from the cheers, that spot monkey has gained quite the name in the midcard. He’s had his shots against the higher ups, and now he currently finds himself the prey of Spike Jenkins’ wrath.”


“Thanks for that update, but to be honest I already knew that. I do watch the shows, but because of you I usually watch them on mute.” Edwin with a nasty insult of the Gambling Man’s announcing skills.


Once again, the enraged Suicide King wants to retort, but the punk anthem known as the “Blitzkrieg Bop” by The Ramones springs to life over the PA system. The crowd continues to cheer, but this time for a female. A female that loves to fight, and has a nice piece of jewelry to prove it.


“His opponent, hailing from Nottingham, UK; Weighing in tonight at 171 lbs. SHE…is the SWF HARDCORE CHAMPION, AMMMMMMMYYYYYY STTTTTTEEEPPPEEEENNNSSSS!!!!”


Funyon blasts with the chords of a heavy metal vocalist, but with a pitch of an R&B artist. Yeah, he’s pretty much the man. The Punk Rock Princess enters into the ring, immediately ascending the nearest turnbuckle. With a sensational gulp of her beverage of choice and the pumping of her free hand, the junior Stephens sends the audience in an uproar.







Placing the half empty can on the ring apron, Amy nods in the direction of referee E. Honda…


“I see this is Toxxic’s sister. I can see the resemblance.” Edwin strokes his chin.


“They are alike in more ways than just physical features, I’d say mentally no matter what Toxxic wants people to believe, that together they could set fire to Chicago…and then blame it on a poor innocent farm animal.” King believes that Amy is one of those psycho bitches you see on TV at two in the mourning on “Cops.”




The bell sounds with a decibel level that is reduced by the loud cheering from the split audience.


“Let’s Go Zyon!!!”


The favorite in almost every match he competes in is quite fond of the familiar chant. What is usually an earsplitting roar is nothing more than thunderous shill silenced by the other half of the audience.


“Let’s Go Amy!!!”


“How cute, the Memphis crowd has decided to bust out a set of dueling chants. Zyon’s name looks be coming out of more mouths, but Amy’s fans are here in their black and…black glory.”


“King, we both know if I was in this match there would be no split in the crowd. It would all be for me, the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache.”


Edwin’s apparent ego could overtake the match, but the competitors are sure to not let that happen. Ignoring the professional announcers, Zyon skips out from his turnbuckle as the defensive hardcore champion circles the ring. Eyeing his opponent down, the good sportsman extends his had toward the radical junior Stephens. Unlike Christian Fury, the Stephens family has no affiliation or hidden motive with the Unique Youth, so the decision is much easier to make for the half innocent Amy Stephens. The competitors’ hands clasp together for a second before breaking apart again as the participants take a step back. Normally this would lead to a casual collar and elbow tie up, perhaps followed by an arm drag or two.


But this is hardcore after all.


Thrusting forward Zyon finds him in an intense battle of rock, paper, scissors. With the difficult pressure of wanting to land the first blow, Zyon aims high with a forearm.




The harsh pressure elevates over the horizon, along with the echo from the first blow…that is landed by Amy Stephens!!! Pulling her leg out of Zyon’s impacted sternum, Amy follows up the first blow with a second strike to the back of her opponent’s head. Dropping to both knees, Zyon finds himself humbled by the first few attacks from the rowdy Amy Stephens. Gazing upward, Zyon can barely see the shadow of the Punk Rock Princess looming over him due to the brightness of the lights. Materializing his confidence, Zyon lunges forward from his knees, locking his hands around the female’s legs, taking her to the mat double-legged style. Endeavoring to overwhelm the younger Stephens, the youth crawls upward, face first into a STRAIGHT KICK TO THE FACE!!




Flailing backward, Zyon rolls away from his deviously dangerous opponent. Hopping back to his feet, the youth takes a step forward as does the now standing Amy Stephens. Still cringing from the earlier shot to the gut, Zyon analyzes the kick heading his way, coming through with the decision to swat the leg away. With his opponent momentarily off balance, the former cruiserweight champion takes a step forward, plunging his elbow into the side of the junior Stephen’s face. Staggering back from the sharp strike to her cheek, Amy uses the near ropes as refuge from her opponent who continues to charge forward.


“A much more aggressive Zyon tonight.” King notes.


Devoid of any stutter in his step, the youth sets himself up for failure, refusing to slow down even when he notices the junior Stephens crouching. Someone blinded by their own ego would credit Amy’s crouching to the immense elbow strike, but Zyon’s eyes are wide open.


For all the wrong reasons.


Gripping Zyon by his thighs, the hardcore champion lifts upward sending the youth over the ropes and to the floor!! Many individuals have made the mistake that Amy refuses to collapse to. Quickly turning her attention to where Zyon’s body should be, she notices that his cruiserweight figure is dangling from the ring apron due to him hanging on to the top rope. Bouncing off the far ropes, Amy comes sprinting back with the reckless abandonment found in her DNA, plunging a dropkick into the back of her male opponent. Swinging off the top rope, Zyon performs a complete back flip, landing beautifully…on…his…FACE!


“I would say that this Amy chick is much more aggressive, but she seems to be a true regular in RUTHLESS AGGRESSION!!” Edwin completes his statement with a deep devilish tone.


Exiting to the outside, Amy rolls Zyon onto his back, covering the youth who clutches his possibly bruised face.









Rolling on to his side, Zyon pops his shoulder up forcing E. Honda to only signal a two count, which disappoints the Punk Rock faithful.


Wait…Punk Rock…Memphis…errr


Anyway, back in the ring…nothing is happening because the two warriors are still on the outside with a zero count since this is a HARDCORE MATCH! Lifting the youth back to his feet by his stringy brown hair, the mostly untrained Stephens jabs the youth in the gut, hooking him in a front face lock. Pulling on Zyon’s slightly baggy shorts that hang well below his knees, the young hardcore champion tries to hoist the Unique Youth vertical, but he counters by wrapping his foot around his opponent’s. Unlatching himself from the standard front face lock, Zyon clasps his opponent around the head, slamming her backward head first on to the steel entrance ramp!




“It seems the Unique Youth has a memory of someone who is simply special. I’m guessing he’s completely forgot about that handshake, because not only was that effective, but it was also quite disrespectful.” King takes a different road in drawing Zyon in a bad light.


Amy clutches the back of her head, cringing from the shocking pain that the entrance ramp dispatches. Dropping down to his knees, Zyon covers the junior Stephens after the stunning she receives due to the slight disrespect.












Withdrawing back to the realm of consciousness, Amy busts out of the pin much to Zyon’s chagrin. Embracing the alpha female by the wrist, Zyon hauls the young lady back to her feet. Planting his foot to the side, the youngster looks to launch the other youngster into the steel safety guardrail with an Irish Whip. Blinking violently, Amy at the last second grapples the Unique Youth by his wrist using his stationary stance to stop herself from colliding with the unforgiving steel.


“Nice heads up move by Amy. Her momentum was stalled, by Zyon’s lack of movement. If she were thrusted into the guardrail by someone with more girth, the lack of movement wouldn’t have saved her.” King points out, picking up the slack that LDP left behind.


Edwin is less than impressed, “So, you figured that all out by yourself. I would give you an applause, but Aunt Chamama never found a suitable partner, which in turn makes me sad.” Yep…


Harassed by Amy’s unwillingness to give up and crash into the damn steel guardrail, Zyon slugs the Nottingham beauty (The only one?) in the face with a LEGAL closed fist. Bloodying the lady’s lip, Zyon feels a shadow of guilt form over his conscience.


“Oh c’mon would you just let go!”


Zyon pleads with the feisty female who even after having her lip split open refuses to release her grip on her opponent’s wrist. Shoving her foot against the steel guardrail behind her, Amy presses one of her Van covered feet into steel guardrail. With the innocent grin that mimics the babyface Toxxic, the Punk Rock Princess slurs an insult at her pleading opponent.


“Nawt a chance, fawker.”


With a case of soup nowhere in sight, the Unique Youth looks to clean the young hardcore champ’s mouth out with another berating right hand. Reeling back, Zyon proves that he isn’t one to pay attention to detail as the sister of Toxxic pushes off the railing with her foot. Twisting her body around Zyon’s, the inventive Punk Rock Princess plants her foot into the ground Irish whipping the youth back first into the steel guardrail FORECEFULLY!!!






Falling to all fours, the wounded youth clutches his back while a few rogue members of the crowd try to touch the youth…yeah fanatics. Breathing heavily, trying to escape the pain that tortures his consciousness, Zyon rolls on the ground attempting to get away from the woman that gives of a beer scent. Faintly off balance from the modified Irish whip…with FORCE, Amy saunters over toward the ring apron.




The redneck audience explodes as the junior Stephens pulls out a random speed limit sign.


“Yer get back yer mullet wearing grease rats!”

Receiving a note from the SWF gods, King is forced to speak, “We here at the SWF do not agree with Amy Stephen’s opinion on the south and it’s people. Any and all hate mail should be aimed at her, and her alone. Thank You.”


“The Gambling Man…right? You sure are a gamble.”


“Hey, I’m just doing my job. Unlike Pete, I’m trying to stay enemy free.” King takes a jab at his unemployed partner.


With the strength of the bouncer like security behind her, Amy perches herself on the steel guardrail. Presenting signs that could insinuate heavy drinking, the alcoholic sister of a straight edge performer just about spills into the excited crowd behind her. Maintaining her balance, the disorderly anti diva patiently waits for her opponent to rise to the occasion.


“Would yer get up yer damn pipsqueak!”


Patiently…yep. Getting the crowd behind her with a few pumps of her fist, Amy dives off the steel guardrail, splashing Zyon who is on one knee with a vehicular ticket. The ticket is of course in the form of denting the sign over his face!




Weakly falling back to the ground, the Unique Youth tries to recompose himself before the hardcore champ decides to continue her assault.




Too late.


Stomping on the youth’s head is the Punk Rock Princess, delivering each kick with the ferocity of someone who is in complete control of the match. Noticing that the youth has found the ability to cover up and absorb most of the impact with his hands, Amy once again turns to the ring apron.


“It seems the young Stephens has learned another basic rule of wrestling. All the weapons that one desires are under that very ring. Trust me, I would know.” King speaks from experience.


Retreating from the apron, Amy reveals that she has come in contact with a spare Kendo stick that may or may not belong to Christian Fury. Twirling the weapon like she sees all the other professionals do before they lower the boom on their opponent, the hardcore champion steps into the batter’s box. Forcing himself to continue the match that he doesn’t want to lose…


…It’s against a girl for crying out loud.

Listening in on the many warnings that he hears from those active fans sitting in the front row, Zyon prepares himself for the worst. Now, his preparation may not of had the focus or the quality of a technical genius, but the youth knows when to let instinct run it’s course. Amy on the other hand could not give two shits about preparation as she reels back with the cruel intentions to take her opponent’s young face off with the foreign stick.




Squatting beneath the vicious shot at the last moment, Zyon squirms around his opponent. Leaving Amy to capture her balance, the super cruiserweight springs into action, latching on to the Kendo stick that is currently held tightly by the hardcore champion. Overpowering the sister of the Straight Edge Sensation, Zyon forces the stick into Amy’s trachea, cutting off vital oxygen that she needs to…you know…live. Straddling the wild punk from side to side, the aggressive youth slips his foot over and around Amy’s. Flapping from side to side, Amy discovers that everything in front of her is getting farther and farther away, and at an alarming rate…


…And then she stumbles upon the fact that nobody, but her and the young man behind her is moving.




With what is essentially a grappled trip, Zyon coerces Amy into the steel guardrail back first with a Kendo Stick assisted Russian leg sweep!


Edwin expresses delight in the hardcore staple, “Now all we need is a little bit of blood and we have ourselves a hardcore match.”


Clutching her back while softly whispering obscenities, the anti diva continue to clutch the Kendo stick that has refused to work out in her favor. Backing away from his opponent, the Unique Youth mentally forms a violent idea, as he is the one ordering the audience to take a step back. Staggering back to her feet with the Kendo stick handing by her side, Amy spins around with open eyes.


Tired eyes.


She watches as the explosive Unique Youth leaps on to the safety rail arranging himself into a focused balance that lets him run along the barricade.


Awake eyes.


Eerie of the “innocent” fans who at any moment could have a mental relapse and choose to trip the youth leading to what the smarks deem as a horrendous technical mistake…otherwise known as the dreaded botch. Straddling along the barricade, the feminine figure of his opponent becomes clear. What remains blurry is the stick hanging at her side.


Aware eyes.


Diving off the barrier, Zyon’s slick smile drowns in a visual “Oh shit” moment as the Punk Rock Princess ABSOLUTELY BASHES ZYON ON OF THE SKY WITH A SICK KENDO SHOT TO THE FACE!!!






The crazy Memphis audience implodes on impact cheering for more carnage.


“DAAAAAAAMMMMNNNN!” Edwin echoes the fans sentiments.


Spasming on the ground while clutching his face, Zyon tries his damnest to roll away from the currently superior competitor. Nonchalantly tossing the half broken Kendo Stick into the ring for later use, Amy decides to force Zyon back to his feet by tugging on his hair. Directing him in the direction of the near by steel stairs, Amy exerts a downward force as she attempts to shove Zyon’s face into the steel steps.


Blurred eyes.


With a wicked vision, Amy misses most of the steps, but does succeed in jamming her opponent’s face into the corner of the steps, SLICING THE YOUTH OPEN!


“Ok…this had got to be a first. Amy Stephens has found someway to use the steel steps to cut a competitor wide open.”


“She did it for me. All the hunnies do it for me…oh god she’s looking over here.” Edwin trails as he hides behind King.


Bleeding from the gash that was erected by the pipe beat down he received from Spike two shows earlier, Zyon rolls into the ring where he thinks it’s safe.


Oh man, is he wrong.


Searching under the ring apron, Amy plays into her opponent’s favorite by pulling a ladder out from under the ring. Inside the ring, a bloody but not yet beaten Zyon rises back to his feet, and out the opposite side of the ring. Sliding the ladder into the ring, Amy follows suit, entering the ring for the first time since the beginning of the match. Mimicking his anti dramatic opponent, Zyon enters the ring as well…with chair in hand.


“Hey INNIT!”

King is beside himself, “Hahahah. Did that spot monkey just try and say innit?”


“That he did, King.” Edwin continues, “But then again, so did you.”


Recognizing the uncomplimentary word that she made famous, Amy voluntarily turns to involuntarily get BLASTED IN THE FACE WITH A FILTHY CHAIRSHOT!!!




Collapsing to the mat, Amy hides the fact that she is now bleeding as well with the palm of her hands. Almost regretting that he put the younger Stephens down, Zyon drops the chair and goes for the cover…














“She’s not moving.”








Surprising EVERYONE in the building with her fighting spirit, the supposedly unconscious Amy Stephens finds some way to pop the shoulder up. Shaking his head from side to side, Zyon’s morals begin to falter as he realizes that he isn’t dealing with your average powder puff. Choosing to lift the ladder instead of his opponent, Zyon places the steel-climbing utensil into a random turnbuckle. With his plans all but visualized, the Unique Youth lifts Amy back to her feet. Knowing that his last Irish whip attempt on the Nottingham beauty ended in failure (And much more) the Unique Youth delivers a sharp kick to the young girls sternum. Seeing his opponent doubled over, Zyon plants his foot before launching himself into a back flip striking the hardcore champ with his foot in an uppercut like motion!


“Flash Kick. Made popular by Guile and mastered by Zyon.”


“Guile? What is he apart of? WWE, WCW, ROH, CIA, ABC, CANADA?”


“Street Fighter.”


“Oh…OH! Damn that spot monkey must have some skillz then I reckon.” King gives into and compliments Zyon’s gamer ability.


Rolled in the back of head eyes.


Amy once again finds herself involuntarily moving away from her goal, as her face is slightly numb from the attack. With a small blood blemish on his otherwise spotless shoe, Zyon rushes up to his opponent and latches on to her wrist. Nervously planting his foot into the mat…the youth hesitates. Noticing the young Stephens leak blood and gaze aimlessly assures Zyon of a successful Irish whip. Thrusting his hands away, the Unique Youth tries to throw his opponent into the ladder, but wait OMG COUNTER!! Shifting her weight the Punk Rock Princess grunts through her blood stain clothes, and whips a startled Zyon across the ring. Stalking the sprinting youth from behind, Amy refuses to acknowledge that she could be putting herself in danger.


He’s just a guy after all.


Tensing for what should be the echo of impact, the Memphis audience is thoroughly amazed by Zyon’s acrobatic leap over the top rope, and the subsequent push on the ladder’s head. Staring at Zyon who is out of the ring, Amy fails to see the obstacle in front of her as the ladder flies upward due to the see saw effect started by the Unique Youth!




That’s the sound a ladder makes when it smashes into your unprotected face. Pausing from giving the feminine or could be feminine Punk Rock Princess more punishment to her face, Zyon reaches under the ring, and pulls out a trash can. Not the most horrendous of weapons, but it could come in handy. As the youth rolls into the ring with said weapon, Amy continues to slither across the mat due to the earlier damage to her face. Ignoring the latest prop, Zyon hoists Amy back to her feet and directly into a front face lock.


“Hey a wrestling move!” Edwin announces as if he was calling the Demonstar Driver or something.


Tensing his muscles a bit, Zyon lifts the lighter Stephens into the air for the always-dangerous BRAINBUSTAAAA! Scissoring her legs, squirming, and doing everything in her power to put pressure on Zyon’s weakness all that more apparent.


His weakness…his strength.


“Zyon like always is prepared to choke under pressure. Look Amy just broke free.” King calls the action moment by moment.


Landing directly on her feet with the skill of a gymnast, but with the grace of a retarded mule. Jousting for whatever position the two are fighting over, Zyon’s eyes begin to twitch and his body begins to tremble. It’s as if he is locked in place.


Oh yeah he is.


Unable to shake loose from the backslide dungeon; Zyon’s face goes from that of lively struggle to that of deathly shell shocked.


That’s the feeling of being hit with the Amy Stephens reverse full nelson neck breaker!


“Woah! Wow, now that was impressive. There was certainly some flash and panache in that maneuver.”


Falling back on to the youth weakly, the lady covers Zyon for the hopeful victory…






















Limply shrugging out of the pin fall, Zyon rolls away from the alpha female. Staining the canvas is that special red liquid emanating from both individuals forehead as Amy Stephens grasps the Kendo Stick that was lying dormant on the mat. With the ropes as his guide to a vertical base, Zyon helps himself back to his feet, snapping his head around to see the Kendo Stick inching it’s way toward his face at a blistering rate!! Instinctively, the male throws his hands up, clasping on to the foreign weapon before it reaches his face.

Oh could it be?


It…It is.




The fans in the Pyramid go insane as the two competitors tug over the ownership of the Kendo stick.
















Snapping Zyon backward with the Stephens specialty; the headbutt causes the youth to wobble backward into the ladder that he sat up. Tasting her own blood for what could be the last time of this match, Amy staggers forward…sprints toward the Unique Youth before recklessly diving into where his figure used to be…




Crashing into the ladder with NO PROTECTION ONCE SO EVAAAA, Amy flounders backward into the waiting arms of Zyon. Fatigue and weakness begins to pummel both competitors as Zyon slips the young Stephens into a reverse front face lock. Extending his left arm to the side, Zyon pauses for the Kodak moment he has created before twirling in a circle to finish the move with his version of an ace crusher. Triumphantly, Amy slides her head out of the ace crusher while simultaneously overwhelming the disgruntled youth with a REAR NAKED CHOKE!!!!




Most in the audience exclaim as the wind that sets Zyon’s sails comes to a startling end…


…By a girl.


“It’s all over now, but the crying. To a girl…” King trails


Edwin though defends his fellow flashy competitor, “He hasn’t tapped out to the Last Orders… yet.”


The crowd’s reaction is all noise. The hollering and hooting fade as Amy wraps her legs around Zyon, applying the death keel so to speak. Held by the body scissors, the relatively weak Zyon has one chance to savor his attempt at victory.


Make it or break it.


Lunging into the air, Zyon performs an act of professional wrestling suicide when you’re in such a submission hold. With his face completely purple, the unorthodox youth lunges backward, looking to crush Amy against the canvas.




Normally a simple back bump wouldn’t be able to thort Amy’s campaign to choke Zyon DA FUCK OUT!!!


But the trash can above the canvas…yeah that hurts.


“That metallic trash can just collapsed around the weight of the two competitors. That young lady could have some serious rib damage.” King calls it how he sees it…and this time he is correct.




Choking on what could be internal injuries, Amy’s grip loosens dramatically. Regaining the color in his skin, Zyon rises back to his feet, immediately beginning to ascend the turnbuckle.


Teary eyes.


The fragile figure lying on the mat gains the sympathy from everyone in the arena…everyone that she hasn’t tried to choke out that is. Throwing away his honor, morals, and whatever “weakness” that could be holding him back, Zyon readies himself.


Alive eyes.


SUDDENLY to the utmost shock of everyone, including the man she tried to choke out, Amy rises back to her feet with chair in hand. Lumbering herself toward Zyon’s stunned state, Amy ascends two stages up, and swings the chair forward!!! Once again with the apparent “weaknesses” gone, Zyon uses his hands to stop the chair again…but not the fist that comes after it.




Packing quite the punch, Amy’s eyes lock on to Zyon.




The familiar Nottingham language reveals itself once more as that Princess of Punk Rock tosses her head forward…




…And CONNECTS! With the chair that Zyon used for defense…


Dead eyes.


Lifelessly falling to the mat is the hardcore champ who along with minor injuries to her rib has taken far too many shots to the face/head. Calmly balancing himself on the top rope, Zyon decides to take flight. Arching his back, the youth establishes another Kodak moment as he spins 270 degrees with his beautiful attack, crashing down on to Amy with the FINAL FLASH!!!


E. Honda gets ready to count the fall as Zyon simply lies back on the female…giving the respect she deserves as he hooks the leg…
















“Vitamin” by Incubus starts up as the Unique Youth covered in the crimson mask wonders back to his unsure feet.




The crowd roars with approval as the youth used a chair, ladder, Kendo stick, and trash can to dismantle tonight’s opponent. He through away his morals and code of honor in favor of the victory. He embraced the clichéd dark side in favor of a plus one on the wind column, and one more step toward absolution.


“What a match. Those two destroyed each other with savage like beatings. I can’t break this down into psychology. Amy bashed her own head into that chair…and that hurts. Zyon won…” King trails leaving an opening for the Mac Daddy.


“Yeah skull on chair is never a smart idea. Neither is rib on trash can, which probably didn’t help much. Zyon pulled off the hard fought victory.”


He did it.


He won.


He beat…


…A girl?


No much more.


He beat…


…a true fighter.

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"A warm welcome back to my noodleheads and piddlefops! The one and only Edwin MacPhisto situated ringside, stuck here with Suicide King unfortunately, but hey you can't win them all. Carny code. Come to think of it, we've got a lot of those. Hey, there's an idea, that'd make a great coffee table book."


"Somebody make it stop." weeps The Suicide King, to a chuckle from Edwin.


"And they're screaming at me through me headset to get on with the show, so let's do just that. Up next, "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins...wow, he's still around? Now that's dedication...or gluttony for punishment, either or. Anyway, tonight he's up against Landon Maddix who last week went to a time limit draw as Cucaracha Internacional EXPLODED!"


"Didn't Cucaracha Internacional already explode when they stopped teaming with each other and talking to each other?" asks King, ever willing to be arguementative.




"Jesus. Let me handle the hard stuff, like making sense. Landon and Jay saw action last show but if we're talking about teams exploding, Spike Jenkins' beating of Zyon the show previous beats all! Spike's had enough and he's taking no more crap from anyone, because he's too busy breaking necks!


"So...kinda like Landon?"


"Only with more talent."


"Now now Kingfish, Landon's got talent up the wazoo. It's just his mental prowess that lets him down sometimes. If he learns how to have fun again, he'd be just fine."


"Fun schmun!" protests King. "The name of the game is winning and Spike's finally realised that. Tonight, he's gonna squash Landon's neck."


"Much like the piece of roadkill I placed in your suit pocket earlier!"
















The Tennesse crowd greet "Megalomaniac" with the same hostile reaction as usual and it seems few things have changed, as Landon Maddix makes his way out through the curtains.


"Ladies and gentlemen, this contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, hailing from Huron, South Dakota by way of Madrid, Spain! He weighs in tonight at two hundred and twenty four pounds. A former SWF WORLD Heavyweight Champion... "THE NEXT GENERATION"... LANDON "LA CUCARACHA" MMMMMAAAAAAAAADDIIIIIIXXXXXXXXXXX!!!!"




Maddix doesn't seem sure of what state of mind to be in, what with the Toxxic issue, his opponent tonight and his confusing relationships with Amy Stephens and Megan Skye over the past few weeks. So he settles for 'moody' as he strides down the aisle, his jacket flapping behind him as he picks up speed, wasting no time in reaching and entering the ring.


"You know, I remember seeing this kid in the SJL and he was smiling, he was slapping hands, he was hitting people over the head with french bread. It's a shame what's happened to him, because he really had that Carny spiri..."




"...Go Carnies..."


Running the ropes, Maddix tries to get himself fired up while the lights around him begin to beam out into full brightness, the SmarkTron whiting out behind him. This gets no warmer a reception as the sound of the needle on vinyl can mean only one thing. "Black Label" by Lamb Of God crashes through the P.A System, picking up pace as Landon watches on, waiting on...





Bright white lights pulsate on the entranceway as the hooded figure of Spike Jenkins bursts through the curtains, dropping to a single knee as the crowd jeer away. All that can be seen of Spike's face are his gritted teeth as he snaps up to his feet and brandishes his crossed hands to the crowd.


"And his opponent... hailing from Hollywood, California! He weighs in at two hundred and twenty pounds... "HOLLYWOOD"... SSSSSPPIIIIIIKKEEEEE JJEEEEEEEEEENNKKIIIIIIIIINNSSSSSSSS!!!!"




Jenkins does a full circle of the ring, spitting on the ground before he rolls into the ring and comes in the centre on one knee. Again Spike stands bolt upright and pulls his hood down this time, snarling into the sea of humanity. His subsequent straight edge posing is met with boos.


"These two seem very similiar. Similiar height, similiar weight, same jacket, both grumpy buggers."


Jumping down from the turnbuckles, Spike seems ready to go


"This should be a great technical match" predicts Edwin.


"Well, that's virtually a bye for Spike. Landon is to technical wrestling what Dick Cheyney is to hand-eye co-ordination." sneers King.


"Oh, snap! Take THAT, two months ago!"





As the bell sounds, Landon and Spike leave their respective corners and move towards a meeting in the centre. Landon tries to loosen up his arms, an old trick taught to him by Jay Hawke for reasons he sadly has forgotten, before he and Spike engage in a lock-up. After a brief struggle Spike slides behind Landon, taking the arm with him into a hammerlock which immediately is transitioned forwards into a side headlock. Dropping to one knee, Spike forces his bodyweight down on the neck to apply more pressure. But Spike's positioning allows Landon to squirm his head out of the tightest part of the hold and suddenly tumble forward on his head with a resorte to escape. Landon lands on his feet from the flashy counter, but by the time he's turned back around Jenkins is back on his feet and re-applies the headlock.


"See, that's what I'm saying. Maddix's got some okay moves, but he doesn't know why he's doing them. He learns things but he doesn't read between the lines and understand what they're for. That's why he sucks."


"You're a very pessimistic man."


Jenkins wrenches on the headlock and angrily demands that referee Sexton Hardcastle ask La Cucaracha if he wants to quit. Landon responds with three quick punches to the gut of Spike, all the answer Sexton requires as the headlock is now broken by Landon escaping behind with a hammerlock. Reaching over Spike's twisted shoulder, Landon grabs Spike's free arm and crosses it across his throat. Landon then releases the hammerlock, choking Spike out with his own arm as the Hollywood native takes a walk around the ring, building up some momentum for himself. That moment is cut off by Landon though, treading down on the back of Spike's knee and forcing him down to a kneeling position before reaching over and lacing the second arm across the first into a Japanese Stranglehold. Usually, Spike would be happy to cross his arms into an X and display them to the crowd. This time however, those arms are preventing him from recieving any oxygen, so it's not so pleasant.


"There's your straight-edge, people!" smirks Landon, making Spike show the involuntary 'X' to all sides of the ring as he stands up. Stepping on the quadreceps again, Landon then forces Jenkins back down to his knees...and with a smirk on his face, he places his knees in the straight-edger's back and falls to the mat, stretching Spike out!




"See, that's a nice move." points out Edwin. "And he's working on the back and the neck...that's pretty smart. Maybe you doubted Landon Maddix too soon."




"Okay then."


Spike remains arched over Landon's raised knees, choked about by his own arms and is now having to answer questions from Hardcastle...like, 'do you give?' Spike doesn't give in but he's clearly in a lot of pain. Luckily, he has a counter. Squirming around as best possible, Spike frees his bent legs from underneath him which eleviates some of the pressure. Then, planting his feet, Spike rolls backwards and lands on his knees at Landon's head, sitting The Next Generation up and switching the Japanese Stranglehold onto him!


"Voilá!" smiles King. "See, I didn't doubt Maddix a moment too soon!"


Placing a knee in the back, it's "Hollywood" who now works on the neck and the back. Landon fights to his feet, but Spike pulls him into a headbutt to the neck. And a second. Maddix drops to one knee and Spike promptly releases the hold on the arms and rushes the ropes in front. Aiming for the head, Spike looks for a Yakuza Kick...but Maddix is able to swat the uncoming foot away and catches the off-balance Jenkins in a waistlock. Struggling to escape, Spike lands a back elbow. Two elbows later and Spike is able to escape with a standing switch. Only for Landon to switch right back, re-applying the waistlock and going for a German. Spike blocks however with a foot around the leg, firing off three more sharp elbows to free himself and turning to face La Cucaracha. A boot to the gut doubles Landon over and glaring into the distance, Spike snatches a quick double underhook.


"Oh no...this is what he did to Mak on Smarkdown!" yelps King. "So much for not breaking his neck, he's going for the Burning Hammer already!"


Hardcastle freaks and frantically waves his hands in Spike's face, trying to convince him not to do what he's about to do. He doesn't listen though, hoisting La Cucaracha up and turning to the side to catch him on his shoulde...NO! Maddix slides safely down the back! The medics in the back breathe a sigh of relief...until Landon spins Spike around, boots HIM in the gut and applies a double underhook of his own!


"Demonstar!!" cries King. "He's going for god-damn Demonstar!"


"Man, did they stop paying the roster's travel expenses since I left?" asks Edwin. "Everyone's become a sadist around here!"


But before Landon can attempt some spinal squishing offence, Spike snaps upright, backdropping Landon overhead. On the way over, Landon releases the arms, instead grabbing Spike's legs and pulling him down with a sunset flip...





















Spike kicks out and rolls to his feet, charging through Maddix with a Jimmy Rave style knee. I don't know if Jimmy Rave exists in the mystical SWF land, but it matters not, as Maddix avoids the knee. Spike quickly skids to a halt and waits for Maddix to get up, turn around, at which point he throws an elbow. However, Maddix throws up his arms and blocks the elbow before snatching on a cravaté!




"Oh, God." groans King. "This again."


"What's your problem King, it's a smart, controlling hold."


"In the right hands, yes! But Maddix's hands are certainly not the right hands!"


A wry smile comes over Maddix's face as he gauges the reaction to the hold. And once he's sure it's negative, he tightens up on the hold, making it clear he's got no plans to release it soon. Spike falls to a knee briefly, but comes right back up and begins to look for an escape. Clawing at the face, Spike forces backwards and the two men end up in the ropes, which forces Hardcastle to demand a break.








Landon breaks the hold on five...and immediately gets drilled in the abdomen with a knee!




"That was cheap." complains Edwin. "So cheap, I've no doubt you'd be wearing it next show partner, if it were possible. Yuck yuck yuck."


Groaning, Landon doubles over as Spike pulls himself off the ropes, driving the point of his elbow into the back of Landon's neck. Spike then hooks Landon up and hits a quick snap suplex, floating over into a forceful pin...



















Landon kicks out, so Spike forces him face down and plants his knee on the neck and mushes Maddix's mush into the mat! Hardcastle lays another 5 count on Spike, who breaks on three...but only to hit a short knee drop to the neck!


"Spike working on that neck and usually it'd be for his Dragon Clutch that he probably stole from me anyway." analyses Edwin. "But, I fear the only thing he's softening the neck for is that Burning Hammer."


"Ditto. Only, replace 'fear' with 'beg, plead and pray'."


Wiping the hair from his eyes Spike paces around the ring and backs into a corner, looking eerily calm and composed. Maddix slowly pushes himself up off the canvas, but only gets to his hands and knees before Jenkins strides forth with another scything elbow, again landing with pinpoint precision to the weakest part of the neck. The shot causes Landon to go limp, while Spike stops at the ropes, staring into the crowd.







"Come on Ed', join in!"


"Why? You like Zyon?"


"No...if these people keep this up, Landon's gonna end up in a wheelchair by the night's end!"


Spike sneers at the chants, going back to Landon and stomping him in the back of the head. The stomps rain down but the chants only get louder, so Spike walks away from the fallen 'Next Generation', slapping the inside of his elbow menacingly.


"Uh-oh, Spike's going for that big Lariat!" calls King, doing a bad job of hiding his excitement.


Backing up against the ropes, Spike waits, winding up the arm as he watches Landon getting up. The ropes provide Landon with some help as he weakly stands up and favours his neck. Usually by now, the attack would have come. The fact it hasn't means Spike must be lying in wait and if Maddix weren't hurting so much, he'd probably realise this and know not to turn around and prompt Spike to charge forward with the Lariat...










...but Spike lands a superkick as Maddix turns back around!


"Last Dance!"





















Spike stays calm and climbs back up, pushing himself up onto the middle turnbuckle and waiting again. Up comes Landon, just as Spike springs off the top and lands another of his elbows to the neck. Landon drops to a knee and immediately Spike clamps down on the trapezious muscles.


"Is that a nervehold or a chokehold?" questions MacPhisto.


"It's a hold, that's all that matters."


"That's not strictly true."


Not getting anywhere fast with the hold, Spike grabs Landon by the FACE and pulls him backwards, down across the knee! Landon's head snaps off of Spike's knee and he slumps to the canvas, while Spike hits the ropes, landing a twisting elbow drop and attempting the pin...






















Landon is up and out comfortably at 2, but he instantly tends to his neck. Looking slightly frustrated, Spike pushes himself back up, dragging Maddix to his feet and landing an elbow to the face. A forearm clubs over the back before Spike goes to the face again with the elbow.


"Lariat!" shouts Spike in a deadpan, determined voice before hitting the ropes in front of the dazed Maddix...AND RUNNING INTO A DESPERATION BOOT! Spike wobbles but stays on his feet, so Maddix comes at the straight edger with a rapid trio of forearms! After those three though no more are forthcoming as Landon has to stop to tend to his neck, buying Spike time as he shakes off the forearms and goes for a swinging neckbreaker. Somehow though, Landon swings through the momentum and catches Spike in a small package...





















Having kicked out, Jenkins wins the dash to the feet, then knocks Landon off his feet with a hard back elbow.


"A smart pinfall from Landon, but it was in pure desperation and now Spike is back in complete control." calls King.


Knowing his opponent won't be down for long from that elbow, Spike hauls him right back up. One shove sends a weakened Maddix back into the turnbuckles and in follows Spike, rocking Maddix with another elbow strike. Spike prepares for a second, but is cut off by a jab of the eyes from Landon, who then weakly turns Spike up against the turnbuckles.







One of Maddix's favoured chops soon follows.







And a second.



"One more?" Maddix asks the crowd, getting a mostly positive responce...




...but he fakes the crowd out on the third chop and instead clamps on a choke!




"Now that's just not nice." laments Edwin.


Releasing the choke on a safe 4 count, Landon smiles smugly as he whips Spike out of the corner and across the ring. Spike crashes into the opposite turnbuckles and settles as Landon winds up the arm and charges forth, diving through the air with a forearm...but Spike moves out of the way and Maddix soars into a sternum first meeting with the top turnbuckle!!


"That'll do the neck no good."


"Gee, that observation oughta get you the job for sure!" mocks King.


"Well, those and the compromising photos of Janus I own."


"Oh, everyone owns them."


With Maddix slumped against the buckles, Spike rears back...







...and chops Landon in the back! With a handful of hair Spike then pulls Landon from the corner and sets him for a back suplex. He gets the lift but up and over goes La Cucaracha, landing on his feet behind Spike and grabbing a waistlock. That seems to be more in instinct than anything though and Spike easily escapes behind, popping Landon over with a crisp but not head-dropping German. Landon is rolled through by the momentum and ends up on one knee, a situation Jenkins has read and uses to step up...






... and land a Dangerous Wizard, right to the neck!! Landon slumps forward groggily, getting pushed to the canvas and pinned by Spike, leg hooked...
























"Wow! A vicious kick, but only a two for Jenkins." says Edwin with surprise.


Spike is surprised too, sitting up to his knees and staring at referee Hardcastle. The zebra brandishes two damning fingers and Spike accepts he hasn't done enough, dragging the near lifeless frame of Landon back up. With head and tights held, Spike applies a front facelock, glancing into the crowd and determinedly mouths the word "Brainbuster". Landon has other plans, rapping in the ribs with quick jabs before lifting Spike up for his own effort. But Jenkins is able to twist in mid-air and land behind Maddix, pulling him down into a reverse front facelock. Spike prepares to show Landon some Clean Living...but a frantic Landon backpedals and snatches out at the air, eventually clasping the ropes to force a ropebreak.


"Landon scuttling like his nickname namesake there." Edwin observes.


"He's getting desperate."


Angrily Spike releases the head when prompted, kicking Landon as he crouches up against the ropes. Two more boots land and Maddix is reeling, almost falling through the middle and bottom ropes. Spike prevents that by dragging him away and to his feet, striking with an elbow. Another Danny-esque elbow lands before the snarling Spike takes a backstep and comes ROARING with an elbow...





...but Maddix ducks and takes Spike to the mat in one, swift Complete Shot movement!!


"He may be getting desperate, but Landon is still fighting." points out The Crown Prince Of Panache.


Due to his landing, The Next Generation is unable to follow up immediately, holding his neck as he gingerly sits back up. But there's no time to nurse injuries now...there'll be plenty of time for that later...so Landon rolls Spike over and drops across him with a cover...
























With Spike still seeing stars, Landon heaves Hollywood over on his front and eases to his feet. Still pain is etched on Landon's face and his neck is rigid as he crouches down, crossing Spike's legs into an Indian Deathlock. Landon places the foot to hold the legs in place and kneels down, reaching back and trying to pull Spike's head upright for the modified Muta Lock. However, Spike comes to his senses just in time and snaps an arm back, catching Landon in the neck with a back elbow that drops him.


"There's your difference MacPhisto...Spike works the bodypart and when he's in trouble, one well placed move shifts the balance. Landon does a whole bunch of stuff not focused anywhere and when he's in trouble, he stays in trouble."


Landon clambers back up holding his neck, but Spike is waiting, clubbing him from behind. Groaning, Maddix falls to his knees and finds himself prone for Jenkins who steps in front and lands a thunderous kick to the chest...





...and a second...





...but Landon ducks the final headshot, lunging at Spike and schoolboying him over...























Spike tumbles back to his feet and in charges Maddix. A sidestep and a hand in the back sends Landon off the ropes, lucha libre style, and on the rebound Landon shows off some more lucha offence, whipping himself around Spike with a satellite headscissors. As he comes out Landon grabs the arm, looking to chain into a Crossface. Spike is able to counter though and shoves Maddix away with his free hand, far enough away to get decent run-up...













"He got the Lariat this time!" cheers King. "And he got it good!"


"Va'aiga, we hardly knew thee."


Spike wipes the hair from his face to reveal a sinister smile as he leans back, executing a lackadaisical cover...



























Shocked, Spike glares up at Hardcastle and tells him that should have been three, but Landon's airborne right arm says differently.







"We have some equal opportunity haterz in Memphis tonight!" Edwin notes.


Once more Spike is snarling, seething even, pissed that his vaunted Lariat didn't get the job done. Landon is still yet to reach his feet though. And sensing that Landon is hanging on by a mere thread, Spike gives the signal for another Lariat.


"He may have kicked out of one, but nobody kicks out of two Lariats!" says King confidently.


Spike crouches in the corner and waits, impatiently, while Landon groggily rises. The crowd is still split on who they hate more and the general consensus is Spike at the moment, as Maddix reaches his feet and the straight edger sprints out...AND MISSES THE LARIAT! Maddix is able to duck, scrambling to the corner and elevating himself up to the middle turnbuckle. Having put the brakes on, Spike turns and charges, only to eat boot! And while the taste of said boot leaves a sour taste in the mouth, Maddix leaps off the ropes, over Spike with two feet right between the shoulder blades!!


"Mushroom Stomp!" cries Edwin. "Chalk up 100 imaginary points for Landon!"


"That's ridiculous."


"Well, duh, Edwin here."


Through pain and exhaustion, Landon falls to his knees immediately after his athletic move. Spike is not so lucky, having been driven straight south and colliding face-first with the canvas. As he bounces back up, Spike groggily falls throat first across the middle rope and starts trying to clear his senses.







Landon forces himself back to his feet and spotting Spike on the ropes, he twirls his finger for the crowd. That perks some of them up and they actually cheer La Cucaracha as he hits the ropes, charging towards Spike...




...slowing down...






...and giving a big F-U to 605 seekers by punting Spike in the ribs!


"Gadzooks King, this kid's more of a tease than your first wife!"


A smirk emerges through the pain from Landon as he pulls Spike away from the ropes, holding the head and unloading some Kawada Kicks! Three, four, five quick kicks bounce off of Jenkins' face before Landon steps over the back, trying to apply the Land Of Nod. Spike is privy to this move however, landing an elbow to the ribs and scooting to safety. Coming up behind Landon, Spike now shoves Maddix onto his hands and knees and tries for the same move, his named The Silver Lining. But Landon is equally prepared, fighting out with elbows and crawling back through Spike's legs. As he comes up behind, Landon then hooks Spike by the head and leaps up, planting his knees in Spike's spine and impaling him with a Lungblower!!




Spike bounces up off the knees and falls forward onto all fours, allowing Landon to ease himself up and apply the Land Of Nod!!


"It's La Cucaracha who wins the Dragon Clutch mini-battle and applies the Land Of Nod!" Edwin exclaims.


Despite his neck, Landon wrenches back with gritted teeth as Hardcastle moves in to check on Spike. Hollywood's head is pointing skywards making finding the ropes even harder. But as the hold is cranked away on, Spike feels his consciousness sapping and knows he can't hang around. Landon sits back, but Jenkins plants his hands and crawls...






...and crawls...





...Landon unable to keep Spike still as he starts reaching out and...










"C'mon, break the hold Landon" is Sexton's demands, which are met by a disappointed Landon. He turns and tends to his neck again but inadvertantly buys Spike time to recover. Spike uses that time well, getting himself not just physically prepped, but mentally too, shouting out to the crowd as he turns around and NAILS Landon with an elbow strike!


"Wow, what a shot!" gasps Edwin, just as Landon retaliates with a forearm. "But Landon is fighting right back!"


Spike shakes off the forearm, another low growl escaping him as he fires off a second, STIFF elbow! His head snapping back, Landon drops down to one knee. But he manages to fight through the pain, growling in his own right as he slaps the mat, absorbing it's FIGHTING SPIRIT~! and just CLOCKING Spike with a forearm strike!


"They're toe to toe!" Edwin gasps, running out of gasp.


"Not for long, Landon can't take too many more shots to the head with his neck in the shape it is."


Shaking the cobwebs away, Spike cups Maddix behind the head with his free hand and snaps off one, two, three rapid-fire elbow strikes! This time there's no retaliation from Landon and Spike falls back into the ropes behind, letting them propel him back with a Yakuza Ki...AVOIDED! Spike keeps his momentum going though, bouncing off the far ropes. Arm weilded, Jenkins has fire in his eyes as he flings another patented Lariat...





...but Landon avoids again, catching Spike's arm with his own in a half nelson. As Spike stops, Maddix then pulls at the arm which spins Jenkins around to face him, Maddix springing up and hooking Spike's head for a modified diamond cutte...






...NO! Spike pushes Maddix off. Rebounding off the ropes, Maddix looks in trouble as AGAIN Spike comes with the Lariat loaded. But AGAIN, Landon ducks it, swinging around Spike and taking him overhead with a bridging german suplex!


"Spike is determined to nail that Lariat, but he might be too determined because it's countered again!" despairs King, as Landon just BARELY holds the bridge with his bad neck...




















Spike kicks out of the weak bridge...






...but Landon rolls right over with Spike and positions himself over the straight-edger to RE-APPLY THE LAND OF NOD!!




"HE GOT IT AGAIN!" Edwin yelps. "Landon anticipated the kickout...it's almost as if he was WAITING for the kickout and he was already one move ahead!"


"No, not Landon! Landon wouldn't be that smart!"


"Well guess what pointdexter, it looks like he is!"


Roaring as his neck burns with white hot pain, Landon arches back and tugs back on Spike's head! Spike is still woozy from the German and is unable to fight early, giving Landon the early advantage as he sits back and pulls again!


"TAP, TOXXIC, TAP!" screams Landon at the top of his lungs, seeing odd visions on Christmas 2004 dancing in front of his eyes as Hardcastle hovers in front of him, trying to ask the flailing Spike if he gives in. Spike's flailing is getting weaker and weaker, his arms reaching but finding nothing as his back is to the ropes. Still Landon wrenches away as Hardcastle takes Spike's near-limp arm, raising it upright...





...it drops.




Hardcastle signals to the timekeeper and tries again, pulling up the arm...









...and it drops.




"Spike's fading." insists Edwin, despite King routing on beside him. "He's fading fast from the Crown Princ...uh, the Prince Of Lan...the Silver Clown Clu...The Dragon Clutch, damnit!"



Hardcastle again signals, preparing to call it as Spike's arm is raised once more and...






















"Spike taps! Spike taps!" cries Edwin, as Maddix exhaustedly flops to the canvas and the anti-Landon sections of the crowd flop in disappointment. "He took all he coulds, but he couldn't takes no more and Spike had to tap out, or else pass out from the hold!"


"Megalomaniac" hits as Landon's hand is raised weakly in victory, both competitors favouring their necks from the battle.


"Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of the match... LANDON "LA CUCARACHA"... MMMAAAAAADDIIIIXXXXXXX!!"




Landon pulls himself up on the ropes and smirks to himself gingerly, as we're running out of words and going to commercials!

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”Welcome back fans to what is shaping up to being the best damn Storm seen in April of 2006” the Crown Prince of flash and Panache beams as the show returns from yet another commercial break


“Wow that’s saying a whole lot Eddie” King replies snidely


“That’s Edwin and you know it”


“Yeah, yeah, yeah” King replies.


Instead of cuing up Green Day like you’d expect for the next match a long figure in a long white lab coat, carrying a clip board walks down the aisle towards the ring.


“Oh great they’re here to give you a lobotomy Eddie, about time” King says as he’s grown quite tired of the show stealing antics of his co-commentator”


“Maybe he’s here to give you a personality transplant because this one just isn’t working” Edwin fires back as the doctor enters the ring.


“Hello everybody I’m Doctor Nick Remoray… that’s Portuguese by the way” the dark haired good looking doctor says with a wink to the camera. “I’m here on a medical emergency to talk to everything about a serious issue threatening the health of your loved ones – and your spouses too”


“Bad breath?” King asks.


“You see last week one of the SWF superstars had an unfortunate encounter with a bird as he was pulled from the ocean” Dr. Nick explains with a very serious look on his face


“Ah Bruce Blank” Edwin deducts


“Well of course it is!”


“I’ve unfortunately had to quarantine Mr. Blank on the suspicious of bird flu” the doctor explains




“Now, now let me speak – it’s important that you all take precautions when dealing with dead birds or you will get the bird flu too!! I’ve had to quarantine Mr. Blank for a week to ensure that he has not contracted the human version of the bird flu to contain the contamination risk.”


“Oh give me a break, this sounds like a very lame excuse on Bruce’s part to get out of the match” Edwin says


“WHAT? How can you say that” King exclaims all indignant over such an accusation.


“Anyone who has had contact with Bruce Blank in the last 5 days must come see me immediately so that I can give you a full exam… especially you Amy” Dr. Ramoray says with a leer and a wink. “So I’m afraid I have to use my medical power to overrule any plans for a match involving Bruce Blank tonight, we just can’t risk it”




“I’m sorry but it’s for your OWN good” Dr. Ramoray says before leaving the arena.


“So… no Bruce Blank Vs Insane Luchador tonight?” McPhisto asks


“It would seem so, that’s the second time we’ve had the match booked but not happened” King laments


“It’s the THIRD time actually King” Edwin corrects King “You’d think that the people in charge would step in and MAKE Bruce fight Insane Luchador”


“What in this place? If we only had someone in charge who had some balls we wouldn’t be in this position” King replies


“Like who?”


“ME!!” King states categorically before we fade out.

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Wu-tang Clan's "Protect Ya Neck" plays over the arena, and everyone knows that the cruiserweight champion is on his way to the ring for a title defense.


This is confirmed, when Mr. Kobe leads Akira out of the gate, onto the ramp. Akira saunters down slowly, with the title around his waist. Mr. Kobe, as always, gets last minute scouting and strategy into Akira's head. Driving points home with accented words. Of course this is all in Japanese, so to no benefit of anyone else, except maybe Candice. But even if she did figure out their plan, she'd probably just get raped.


Akira slides into the ring, as Mr. Kobe goes around, near the announcers tables, but not sitting with King and Edwin. Akira climbs the turnbuckle, and shows the Cruiserweight gold to all of the crowd.


The pyramid in Memphis goes somewhat darkened, and "Remember the Name" by Fort Minor starts up. This is fitting, because this is a name to remember walking out of the gate. Christian Fury walks out, headed straight down, nothing distracting him, or diverting his attention. Just a walk, and a slide into the ring, followed by a glance at the gold belt that would be on the line.


"From Cleveland Ohio… standing at six foot three two hundred and twenty two pounds…he is the number one contender to the cruiserweight championship… CHRISSTTTIIIAAAN….FURYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!




"And his opponent from Sendai Japan… he is an even six feet and one hundred and ninety five pounds… He is YOUR…CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WOOOOORRRLLLLDDD….THE DIVINE WIND AKIRAAAAAA KAAIIIBATSUUUU!



Akira and Fury circle around the ring, before shaking each others hands, giving each other a nod of respect.


"Alright, I know a bit about Fury; he's my time," Edwin says. "But the only thing I've seen of Akira is a highlight package of his feud with Bruce Blank. I'd like to see how this guy can actually manage to technically wrestle."




Akira, as usual, offers a hand for a Greco-roman knuckle lock. Fury puts his hand out as if to accept, but then dives towards Akira's feet, trying to sweep him down. Akira swiftly gets out of the way though. After Fury gets back up, the two lock up, collar and elbow style. Akira spins around sideways, and puts a rear waist lock on Fury. To gain more control, Akira steps his left leg over Fury's body, but Chris catches the leg, and drops to his back, sending both men to the mat.


Fury then slides up Akira's body from the ground, and grabs Akira's head, putting in a ground side headlock. Fury squeezes in a circular motion, applying more pressure. Akira throws his knee up at Fury's back repeatedly, until he can get Fury to stand up.


So now Fury stands with Akira in a standing side headlock, squeezing equally as hard as he was on the ground. Akira digs his foot into Fury's leg joint, sending Fury to his knees, causing him to break the headlock.


"Very nice mat work from Akira," King says.


"And Fury as well," adds Edwin


Kaibatsu grabs Fury's arm while Fury is still on his knees. Fury gets up right away though, and backs himself up into the corner, so referee Ted Tedson tells him to back out.


"That sounds like a name Jimmy the Doom would come up with. Ted Tedson?"


Akira obeys Tedson's orders, and backs out, but he turns right around, and throws an elbow at Fury! Fury ducks though, and Akira is now in the turnbuckle. Fury throws an elbow at the side of Akira's head that knocks his ear off. Fury then hurls a forearm at Akira, that sends his nose behind his head.


After Fury's strikes, he whips Akira into the turnbuckle. Once Akira gets there, he does a hand stand on the top turnbuckle, and tries to leap backwards behind Fury, who is running after him. However, Akira misjudges his jump, and lands on the shoulders of Fury. Akira thinks quickly, and leapfrogs off of Fury's shoulder, and spins around. In mid-air he grabs Fury's arm, and throws him for an arm drag!


"Brilliant reversals from both men!" Edwin is impressed. "That was a phenomenal arm drag"


Both men quickly get to their feet, and Akira comes sprinting towards Fury. Akira jumps, and leans his ass into Fury's gut, looking for a bulldog, but Fury shoves him off. Akira gets up immediately, but is met with a running Japanese arm drag from Fury! Akira gets up quickly once again, and sprints at Fury, and baseball slides beneath his legs. Akira jumps up onto Fury's back, and catches his left arm. He then rolls to his side, and covers Fury for a crucifix pin!























Fury tries to roll out of the pinfall, but Akira grabs a hold of his arm, and locks in a side arm bar, keeping Fury grounded. Fury slowly makes his way to his feet, but Akira manages to keep a hold of Fury's arm. Akira then twists his arm around, wrenching it, causing Fury to squeal in pain a little bit. Akira uses his free arm to bionic elbow the wrenched arm of Fury. Akira then takes his left leg to step over Fury almost like an STO. Fury hangs on to Akira's arm though, and kips right back up, and uses his momentum to armdrag Akira. Akira rolls right off of it, and runs into the ropes. He bounces back, and Fury leap frogs, avoiding Akira. Kaibatsu bounces off. Fury turns to face Akira, who extends his foot out for a Yakuza kick!


"Akira's really been using that Yakuza Kick effectively as of late." King states.


Akira lifts up Fury's arm, but Fury stays at his knees. Akira twists his arm around, wrenching it. Fury winces, but then uses his free arm to throw a punch to the gut of Akira. Fury then rises to his feet, and throws an elbow at the side of Akira's head. He throws another, and then Kaibatsu answers with one of his own. Akira elbows Fury again, and that backs Chris up into the ropes. Akira tries another elbow, but Fury ducks, and grabs a hold of Akira's waist, and slams him backwards, guillotining him on the ropes.


"Smart, smart move from the vet," King says.


"As Chris says, chalk one up for the grizzled veteran!"


Fury side kicks Akira, and then whips him into the corner, and then whips him into the opposite ropes. Upon hitting the ropes, Akira grabs onto the ropes, so to avoid getting hit with a slam of some sort from Fury. Fury improvises his plan, and comes running at Akira, caught on the ropes. Fury baseball slides under the ring, and then grabs Akira's legs, trying to pull him under the ropes. Akira holds onto the top rope though, keeping him up. Fury then lets go of the legs, and jumps up to the ring apron, and thrusts his shoulder at Akira's stomach. He then flips over the top rope, and rolls over Akira's back, and runs into the ropes. He bounces back, and nails Akira with a lariat! He makes a cover.



































Fury lifts up Akira by the mask. He busts a forearm at Akira's nose, and then whips Akira into the ropes again. Kaibatsu hits the ropes and comes back. Fury catches him by the torso, and lifts him. He then drops him, snapping him over his knee for a backbreaker.


"Very nice backbreaker from Fury!" Edwin says, as Fury lifts Akira by the mask. He throws another elbow at Akira, and sends him to his knees. Akira slowly starts to get up, but Fury continues the offensive before he can get back to his feet. Fury scoops Akira up, and then slams him back down to the mat. Fury then runs to the ropes, and bounces off. He approaches Akira, and then leaps up high into the air, dropping his knee onto Akira's forehead, causing him to roll over in pain.


"That delivers a lot more pain that you would think, watching at home," King says.


Fury runs over to the ropes once again, and bounces of. He leaps up into the air much like last time, and delivers another knee drop, this time to the back of Akira's head. Fury makes a cover, hooking a leg.





































"He's gonna need to work a bit more than that if he wants to pick up the W" Edwin says.


Fury picks up Kaibatsu by the mask, and Akira shows life, throwing a forearm at Fury, but Fury hurls elbows right back at him. Chris then Irish Whips Akira into the ropes, but Akira counters it, whipping Fury in. Fury bounces back, and jumps at Akira, twisting over his body, throwing him by his head, with his legs.


"Fantastic head scissors!" King screams.


Fury picks up Akira by the mask once again, and keeps ahold of the mask. He slams Akira's head into the turnbuckle. He then whips Akira into the turnbuckle, and runs after him. Akira lifts up his foot though, and drives it into Fury's face, driving him back a few feet. Akira runs at Fury, but Fury is a step ahead of him, and hits a clothesline that sends Akira out of the ring. Fury then runs at the opposite ropes, bounces back, and starts to attempt a tope suicida, but Akira climbs back up to the apron, causing Fury to stop. Fury then kicks Akira's gut through the ropes. He flips over the ropes, and tries to sunsent flip power bomb Akira off the apron, but Akira holds his ground on the flip, and then delivers a palm strike to Fury's face when he's on the floor.


Akira then gets back in the ring, as Tedson begins the 20 count. Fury is quick to his feet, but Akira is quicker to make his move. He holds his hands on the top rope, and jumps over it side style. He catches Fury's head with his legs, and hits a huge tope hurricanrana!





"Excellent move from Akira!" Edwin shouts. "Really bringing a fast pace to this cruiserweight title match!"


"Akira normally starts off pretty slowly, and then makes his way up. Sometimes it works; sometimes he gets burned."




Tedson then restarts the 2o count, as it has to be since Akira jumped over. Akira stomps Fury on the floor. Kaibatsu then walks a few feet over to the ramp, and hands out high fives to the lucky fans sitting in the front row. Akira then turns his focus back to Fury, and stomps his arm. Akira lifts Fury by the hair, and Fury throws a punch to the gut of Akira's stomach, but Akira sucks it up. Fury then tries a Chuck No, er, roundhouse kick on Akira, but Kaibatsu ducks under it, and locks Fury in a rear waist lock. He takes his left hand of Fury's waist, and grabs Fury's left hand, wrapping it around his back. Akira then flips Fury back, dropping him on his injured arm, for a back suplex on the outside!


"Backdrop suplex on the concrete floor! PAINSVILLE~!" King screams.


"You know, Pete really should have been making a lot more money, working alongside you." EddyMac says.


Akira lifts up Fury by the tights, and hurls him into the ring, before the counting on the outside can become an issue. Akira makes a lateral press once inside the ring, with a "hey. You never know,", for hardly a two count. Fury groggily gets to his feet, but can't regain his composure in time to get any offense moves in. Akira grabs him by the back of his hair, and slams his forehead into the nearest turnbuckle. Akira then whips Fury into the opposite corner, with so much force Akira falls forward sending him there! Fury hits the turnbuckle hard, thrusting his torso outwards out of pain in his back. Fury falls down right after this, and Akira gets on the offensive, locking in a ground hammerlock on Chris.


Fury slowly makes his way to his feet, but Akira keeps the hammerlock applied. Fury then uses his free arm to throw an elbow backwards at Akira's head, breaking the hold. Fury runs at the ropes, and bounces off, but Akira catches him with a nasty elbow.


Kaibatsu brings Fury back up to his feet, and applied a front face lock. He then wrapped Fury's arms around his neck, and lifted him up into the air, driving him down with a suplex. He swings his hips up and to the left, carrying his momentum with him to bring Fury back up to his feet. Akira then releases the front facelock, and grabs Fury's left arm. He wraps his arm around his back once again. Akira flips Fury backwards, and drops him on that arm for the second time.


"Akira is being very thorough with his arm work in the past few minutes." Edwin says


"Repeating two moves in a span of a minute ain't too pretty though, Edwin."


"Doesn't have to look pretty, it just has to hurt."


Akira makes a lazy cover, not hooking any legs.








































"Gotta hook the leg there, Windy" Edwin advises.


"This isn't some SWF chat room, Edwin. It's a commentary booth. His name is Akira Kaibatsu."



Akira lifts up Fury by the hair, and Fury tries another punch to-the-gut-reversal, but as he did earlier in the match, Akira answers with two huge forearms, the second of which sends Fury backed up into the ropes. Akira attempts to whip him into the ropes, but Fury grabs a hold of Akira's forearm, and prevents himself from being thrown. He hits Akira in the cheek with an elbow strike, that sends Akira into the ropes.


"Oh, how the tides have turned" King adds.


Akira faces the crowd, and holds onto the top two ropes. Chris comes up from behind, and puts Akira in a rear waist lock. Akira throws elbows behind him though, sending Fury back a few feet. Akira sprints towards Fury, but Chris counters with a spinning heel kick. Akira ducks under it though, and runs through to the other ropes. He bounces off, and is then immediately met with a lariat from Fury that nearly takes his head off!


Fury picks Akira up right away, and puts him in an abdominal stretch like position. Christian lifts Akira up into the air from this, and then drops him down onto his knee like he was doing a curl. Although I doubt 195 pound barbells are sold anywhere.


Akira tries to regroup, and collects himself by standing in the turnbuckle. Fury runs at Akira, staying on the offensive, keeping Akira grounded as long he can, attempting a lariat. Akira ducks his head though, and flips Fury over the ropes, with Fury landing on the apron. Akira turns to Fury, but Christian is one step ahead of him, and throws a forearm at Akira. Fury then jumps side-style over the ropes, twisting so much that he lands on the 2nd rope of the ropes to the left. He springboards backwards and does a backflip. He catches Akira's head with both of his hands, and slams them down for a springboard back flip Edge-O-Cution!


"That planted Akira on his head!" Cries King.


"That put these fans in a state of excitement like never before!" Edwin adds.


"That could be three!"




















































































"Akira SOMEHOW manages to kick out of that! What's next? A Demonstar Driver?" King says.


Fury lifts up Akira by the mask, and tucks his head under his armpit. Fury then lifts his arm over his neck, and attempts to lift Akira for a vertical suplex, but Akira blocks it by planting his foot. Fury tries once again, but Akira keeps that foot planted. Akira then spins to his left rapidly from this position, and hits a huge spinning neckbreaker on Christian!


"Back and forth! Seconds ago this was Fury's match to lose!" Edwin calls


Akira makes a cover, hooking a leg.










































































































































Akira backs up after the failed pinfall, and stalks Fury. Fury very slowly makes his way to his feet. Akira comes running at Fury, flipping over him, grabbing his waist, for a running sunset flip. He hits it, but Fury rolls out of it easily, and then grabs at Akira's legs. He picks him up by the legs, and manages to hoist him to his shoulders, going for a pwerbomb. Akira flips forward out of it, and grabs a hold of Fury's head, hitting him with a DDT.


"What a reversal! The DDT!" Edwin screams.


"This match is really picking up!" King shouts as Akira hooks a leg on Fury.


























































"Ohhhh kickout after the DDT this match is breaking down how much longer can it go no way!" Edwin can no longer form sentences. Just spots. A la this match.


Akira lifts up Fury by the hair, and throws him over to the turnbuckle. Akira throws a vicious elbow at Fury's face. Akira then hits a toe kick right at Fury's gut, causing him to double over. Kaibatsu then butterflies Fury's arms, and swings him out, planting him on his face.


"It Came From Sendai!" Edwin shouts. "It Came From Sendai!! COVER!!"



















































































































"GAH, NO!"


























"It Came From Sendai can't end it this time! It was so unbelievably close this time though!" Edwin shouts.


"Closer than it's ever been from what I can recall."



Akira wont let that keep him down. He stomps on Fury, keeping him in place for at least the few seconds he needs to set up. He goes over to the turnbuckle, and climbs to the top, and takes a moment to listen to the crowd when he gets up there.







"Possibly going for a Senton bomb here! It wont go one any longer if he nails that!" Edwin shills.


"I dunno, Fury's god heart…" King argues.


Akira bends his knees, and leaps off the turnbuckle like a frog. He reaches his climax on the air, and starts to bend backwards. The flashes of cameras go off all around the arena for the Kodak moment. Akira rapidly starts to drop, and…














"Fury Rolled out of the way! Fury rolled out of the way! Akira's in deep trouble here!" Edwin shouts. Fury picks up Akira by the mask. He throws an elbow at him. He then runs behind him at the ropes, and bounces off. Before Akira can even react, he hits a short arm clothesline, sending Akira to the ground. Akira gets up right away, but he is met with another elbow from Fury right away. Fury then whips Akira into the ropes. He bounces back, and is a step ahead of Fury. Akira does a standard headscissors around Fury's body, and when he finally comes down, he has a hold of that arm he was working on earlier in the match on. And he has it in a fujiwara arm bar in the middle of the ring.


"Satelite fujiwara armbar! Akira's going to end it!"


"If Fury doesn't tap soon, he could be out of action for a bit. A fujiwara is no joking matter.!" King shouts.



Fury screams in the pain, and the shouts only drive Akira to apply more pressure. Chris reaches towards the ropes, but it is a lost cause.



Fury's flesh is ripping.




And tearing.




And stretching.



And there's only one thing he can do about it.










A number of referee's in the back come down to the ring to check on Fury's arm, which seems to be in quite a bit of pain, as he is still down on the mat holding it. As Nick Soapdish waves to the gate for more help. Storm





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“So I says to Mabel, I says…”


Edwin MacPhisto looks at the camera nervously, completely ignoring King’s yammering, and waits – prays – for some salvation. And then the red light comes on, and a massive sigh of relief is heard before the Mac Daddy interrupts King once and for all.


“Welcome back to Storm everyone!” shouts the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache, the Gambling Man almost looking offended at MacPhisto’s abruptness. “It’s been a great show thus far, with a few exceptions” – Edwin looks over at King – “and it doesn’t look to get worse, as we’ve got a rather amazing match for you up next: the Iron Australian Knockout Challenge.”


“Correct, Self-fisto,” smirks King as everyone in hearing distance rolls their eyes clean out of their head, “the Iron Australian Knockout Challenge is one of the SWF’s rarer and more brutal stipulations: 20 minute match, with a knockout counting as three raises and drops of the arm, such as with a sleeper. If, post-3 drop, the individual knocked out cannot answer a one minute count, then the opponent is awarded the victory by TKO. Touching the floor constitutes a knockout.”


“Frankly, I’ll be stunned if Johnson manages to pull this match out,” sighs Edwin. “I mean, I know I’m supposed to be impartial, but this is a match stipulation that favors pure strength, and Janus has more strength than King has sex appeal. Exponentially more.”


“I agree, Edwin,” says King. “It’ll be impossible for Johnson to win, which is why Peters si-WAIT A MINUTE.”


“LLLLLL-ADIES AND GENTLEMEN, the following contest is an IRON AUSTRALIAN KNOCKOUT CHALLENGE! Should JJ Johnson win, he automatically becomes the number one contender to the World Heavyweight Championship, valid until after Battleground!” booms Funyon, and the crowd roars in anticipation of the match, not necessarily the competitors…and then the lights drop out.




The stretching riffs of “Blood & Thunder” begin ringing out with very little in the way of ado, the lights flashing rather slowly as smoke begins billowing out of the entranceway, causing the crowd to become a low rumble fo negative reaction…




And then the distortion hits, and the entranceway becomes a madhouse of smoke, power chords, seizure-inducing lights, and a great deal of jeers as the smog is broken by JJ Johnson, hair and title flashing in the light as Johnon strides towards the ring!


“Introducing first, from Windsor, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at 223 pounds…one-half of the World Tag Team Champions…J! J! JOHNSON!”


I think that someone is trying to kill me

Infecting my blood and destroying my mind

No man of the flesh could ever stop me

Your fight for this fish is a fight to the death


Johnson doesn’t look as stoic as he generally does on his way to the ring. Maybe it’s anticipation – or intimidation – but the Canadian’s face is more tense than usual. Regardless, he jogs up the steps, stepping through into the ring and taking a moment to stretch on the ropes.


What remorseless emperor commands me

I no longer govern my soul


Johnson stops stretching, jogs to the corner and hops up onto the second rope, throwing his arms wide as the lights reflect off of his tag team championship, his sneer once again slightly softer.


I am completely immersed in darkness

As I turn my body away from the sun


Johnson hops down and sheds his jacket and belt, handing them to referee David Blazenwing before strolling to his corner…as the lights, save a sole spotlight that travels it’s way over the crowd, drop out again, and a siren begins building to it’s crescendo, blue sparks erupting and spraying their volatile selves over the entrance ramp as they rise up along either side of the entranceway.


[HEIGHT: 7’2”]


The words flash up on the Smarktron for only a moment, and then they fade into nothingness as the siren grows to an ever-annoying pitch, but while it would be aggravating in some situations, a better word here would be “foreboding”.


[WEIGHT: 360lbs]


The crowd grows noisier as the green lettering re-emerges, forming a different statement this time, perhaps even more intimidating than the last. They fade again, and the siren reaches its peak…




…only to be replaced by the soft tones of Burton C. Bell.


Consumed with memories…

That preceded today…

Given a chance to bereave…

Life that’s slipping awaaaaaayyy!!!


And then “Resurrection” is surging out in full force, thundering throughout the Pyramid as the curtain ripples, and then parts to make way for the Hell Machine as he strides through into the assorted jeers and cheers – mostly cheers considering – and down the ramp, his red eyes purple in the blue light from the sparks that snuff out as he walks by, as if his mere presence is enough to perform such a feat.


“And his opponent,” begins Funyon, “from Sydney, Australi-AAAAHH!!”






“ELBOW SUICIDAAAA!!” bellows Edwin as Johnson decides waiting for Janus isn’t the best of ideas, and sprints to the ropes before diving out and cracking the Hell Machine in the skull with the point of his elbow!


“That idiot!” scolds King, even despite Johnson’s status with the fans. “He just gave up a point!”


“Actually,” corrects the Mac Daddy, “there was no signal that the match started, which means no score for Janus. Story of your sex life, eh?”


“You have a point, I’ll admi-GOD DAMMIT!”


Johnson spirals off of the Australian, managing to land on his feet with his back to the Hell Machine. Knowing he has a very slim window of opportunity with Janus down, the Canadian turns…and narrowly avoids a Knuckle Bomb from the still-standing Antipodean! A tad shocked that his elbow suicida hardly seemed to faze Bailey, Johnson freezes for a moment, and that’s all Janus needs to grab him by the throat, reach down and hook his feet before pressing him over his head and, in a feat of sheer strength, toss Johnson over the top rope into the ring before rolling in after him!






“NOW we’re underway,” explains MacPhisto, and the giant Janus rises to his feet before reaching down and grabbing Johnson by the hair, completely and utterly ignoring the warnings of referee Blaine Kalem as he reaches down and scoops the Canadian up for a Fallaway Slam…that Johnson reverses by driving the point of his boot into the shoulder of the titanic individual holding him, bringing about a slight groan of discomfort from the Hell Machine. That’s the opening Johnson needs, though, and he frees his legs from the Australian’s grip before using his newfound momentum to swing around and attempt to tug Janus to the ground for a Fujiwara armbar!


…Unfortunately for JJ, he doesn’t have nearly the body mass necessary to topple Janus, and the Australian lets out a guffaw at the futility of it all before reaching down and flipping Johnson up over his shoulder, attempting to get him lined straight up for his signature Emerald Frosion, the…


“ADF II!” cries Edwin, recognizing the maneuver immediately. “As Darkness Falls II, and if Janus manages to hit it this early, it’ll be a 1-0 advantage merely…” –Edwin checks his timer – “ 45 seconds into the contest!”


The timer trickles down continuously, but unfortunately for the Hell Machine so does Johnson, managing to free himself from the head-drop’s setup before it’s entirely too late. Using his newfound position behind the Australian to his advantage, Johnson fires a series of snap kicks straight into the right arm of the mammoth competitor!




“Very smart strategy from Johnson, here,” notes the Crown Prince, “taking out the Hell Machine’s stronger right arm to prevent him from hitting a wide range of moves, from the Knuckle Bomb to the Hell Crush to – I shudder to think – the Rage Unleashed, or alternately, the King’s First Child Support Payment.”


“That would be pretty bad,” agrees King, “since Johnson would be in no position to wrestle for the World Title taking the Rage Unlea…DO THAT AGAIN, AND I SWEAR TO GOD, I’LL SHOOT YOU.”


“Seriously, King,” asks Edwin, “are you hoping you’ll build a monster out of all of those child support bills? Like, Fuckingstein or something?”




“The Modern Promiscuous?”




Janus recovers obscenely quickly from the strikes, and whirls on the spot to deliver a rarity – a spinning backfist – and we soon discover exactly why it’s a rarity as the Canadian he was aiming for no longer occupies the space through which his blow traveled, with the pesky Ultimate Fighter having traveled behind him to deliver a high kick straight to the elbow of the spinning arm! Janus snarls, but Johnson heeds the warning not, instead firing another kick straight into the right arm of Bailey! With the Hell Machine furious, Johnson throws three more snapping kicks…





…before deciding something bigger is going to be needed to damage the New South Welshman, and sprinting off the ropes before coming back and slamming his boot straight into Janus’ arm with a Yakuza Kick! The Hell Machine almost staggers, and Johnson sees it as a sign of not being broken, and so he doesn’t fix it, instead sprinting off the ropes again and delivering a second Yakuza Kick! Janus even reels, and so the Canadian decides that the time is right to go a little bigger than even that, charging to the ropes and building up as much momentum as possible before SCREAMING back at the titanic Australian, leaping into the air to deliver his Dynamic Kick!







The Knuckle Bomb hits home, Janus lashing out with his fist just as Johnson leaps, his momentum at it’s peak. The result isn’t pretty, Johnson flipping and spinning at a frightening angle before he comes crashing down on his front, laying absolutely still.





It certainly looks to be so; Janus is rubbing his hand in pain, which should say something, as referee Blaine Kalem reaches down and lifts Johnson’s arm, dropping it for






It flops lifelessly to the mat, and Kalem reaches down a second time, securing it firmly around the wrist before lifting once more and dropping it for






No longer hesitant, Kalem reaches down and brings it up, almost propping it up a moment before letting go.










Janus 1

Johnson 0

Time Remaining: 16:45




“Ladies and gentlemen, Janus has secured the first fall with a knockout!” booms Funyon to cheers as Johnson begins to tug himself off of the mat, recovering rather quickly from the potentially skull-shattering blow he’s been dealt. Snorting either in amusement or annoyance, the Hell Machine moves out of his corner and launches a second Knuckle Bomb…that Johnson, despite being knocked silly mere seconds before, has the wherewithal to duck! Undeterred, the Australian merely spins on the spot, launching a rolling lariat…that Johnson ducks again! Rather annoyed at this juncture, Janus decides against fanciful blows and instead rocks the Canadian with a forearm! Johnson reels, but does not fall, and instead bounces back and throws an elbow that catches the Hell Machine right in the sternum! With the wind newly knocked out of him, the Antipodean bends over slightly, which is all the room Johnson needs to blast him in the jaw with a proper elbow smash!




The Australian shakes off the blow with an ease almost frightening, but if Johnson’s scared, he doesn’t show it. Unless, of course, his manner of expressing fear is blasting you in the face with another elbow strike!




Not letting Janus catch a breather this time, Johnson snags the back of his opponent’s head and draws it down, enabling him to launch a flurry of elbows with alarming speed, the Canadian’s arm a blur of movement with only the sound to let people know what’s happening!




Janus is dazed now, but he’s nowhere near falling. What he is near, however, is a JJ Johnson rolling elbow that turns the Canadian into another blur as he spins in place before blasting the Hell Machine right in the kisser!




The Australian merely stares back at Johnson, although the stare is not as sharp as it was four minutes ago when the match started, but Johnson doesn’t see it, as he’s already continuing his momentum from the last spin and taking it to the Hell Machine with another rolling elbow!




And another!




And Johnson spins again, nailing him with a fourth rolling elbow…




…before halting his spin and revolving the OTHER way, nailing Janus right in the orbital bone with a screaming elbow…




…and then spinning the opposite direction, turning a lightning-quick 720 degrees before slamming his elbow into Janus’ jaw with enough momentum that JOHNSON goes down…JOINING THE DAZED HELL MACHINE ON THE MAT!!


“JANUS DOWN!” shouts Edwin, the crowd half-pissed/half-horrified at the elbow holocaust that just occurred before them. “It took…Jesus, what was it? NINE elbow strikes, including four of Johnson’s signature giant-killer, the rolling elbow, and ONLY NOW does the Hell Machine go down! It is a testament to Janus’ immense strength and endurance that he can make Johnson’s normally devastating offense impotent!”


“Impotent?” asks King, a tad confused about using such an adjective to reference something as mundane as an elbow smash.


“Sorry, King,” apologizes Edwin. “I forgot you’re sensitive about that.”




Johnson stands back up as the Hell Machine lays flat on his back, prompting Blaine Kalem to raise and drop his arm…



…with the titanic Australian using the momentum from the arm string to sit straight up, a fire in his eyes that makes them look even redder than normal. And JJ Johnson looks like he’s about to shit a brick.


Fortunately, the Canadian manages – somehow – to maintain his composure as he slides in behind Janus, wrapping his arm around the massive skull of the head of security before using his other arm to pinion the right arm, planting his knee in the back of the Hell Machine and rearing back with a Stretch Plum!


“Stretch Plum!” notes Edwin, a bit of excitement in his voice. “Used most often by Judge William Hearford III, and most recently by Tom Flesher, the Stretch Plum is no doubt one of the better ways to work on the Hell Machine, as it functions as both a choke and an armbar, allowing him to wear down two body parts at once and maintain control from behind – something King wouldn’t k-“


“DON’T EVEN!” shrieks the Heartbreaker, wisely cutting Edwin off at the pass.


Janus looks to be in trouble, not being so fantastic a technical wrestler as to find an easy way out of the devastating hold. Johnson looks content to rear back, bending three of Janus’ vital bones – arm, neck, spine – at once, more than ready to release the hold as soon as the Hell Machine goes limp. However, Janus does not need fantastic technical ability; instead, he leans forward, tugging Johnson into an inopportune position where his leverage advantage is almost moot. Rolling onto his front, the Hell Machine uses his newfound place to utilize his brute strength to hoist himself to his hands and knees, and then to his knees, and then up to one knee, all with Johnson hanging off of him.


“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Edwin, “I may have described that flurry of elbows by Johnson as rather horrific-“


“Actually,” smirks the Gambling Man smugly, “you didn’t use the word horrific.”


“-No, but your wife did,” snaps Edwin without missing a beat, and then raising his voice to drown out King’s screams, he continues. “Now, I may or may not have described those elbows as horrific, but what you’re seeing right now is downright frightening.”


It is a testament to Johnson’s already iron will, then, that he hangs on to the hold as Janus rises, completely ignoring the potential seven-foot drop to the ground that awaits him, wrenching back on the hold with all his might in an attempt to bring the Hell Machine back to Earth.




And then Janus fires a weakened-by-trajectory-but-still-freakishly-strong Knuckle Bomb straight into Johnson’s nose, and the Canadian’s grip slackens enough for Janus to reach back and tug the Ultimate Fighter over his shoulder, taking just a moment to line him up for what only takes that moment for everyone watching to recognize.







“ADF II!” shouts Edwin. “Janus hit it, and he’s up two falls to nothing!”


“You don’t know that,” pouts King, but in his mind, he realizes that Edwin does know that; everyone knows that.


Kalem raises and drops.

















Janus 2

Johnson 0

Time Remaining: 13:45



“And now,” explains Edwin, “Johnson has an entire minute to get up, which means that Janus has around 57 seconds should Johnson stay down that long. If Johnson stays down the entire minute, Janus wins. Fortunately for King, I can’t twist that anyway I please.”


“Damn straight,” snaps King.


Much to everyone’s surprise, however, Janus strides over and takes another firm hold of Johnson’s hair before yanking the Canadian to his feet, where the Ultimate Fighter wobbles precariously before steadying himself, although it is plain to see that he’s utterly out of it. With this in mind, Janus smirks before bouncing off of the ropes and charging straight ahead, moving with freakish speed for a man his size as he lowers his shoulder and plunges it straight into Johnson’s rib cage with a thunderous Gore!


That was the plan, anyway. Johnson wisely made new arrangements, diving clear of the point of impact mere moments before the Hell Machine got there, sending the Australian surging through the ropes, where he gets hung up about halfway through before coming to a screeching, utterly pissed halt…that Johnson doesn’t help by striding forward, taking hold of Janus’ legs, and dumping the rest of him out of the ring, where he tumbles to the floor!





Janus 2

Johnson 1

Time Remaining: 13:30



“WHOA!” shouts the Mac Daddy as the arena recedes from it’s cheerful mode into that of mass jeering. “Johnson manages to sucker the Hell Machine, although whether by accident or with intent I’ll never know, into putting himself in a precarious position that JJ took advantage of by dumping him to the floor and gaining a fall.”


“It was obviously with intent, Edwin,” King sighs. “Johnson is a genius, after all.”


“What happened to being on Janus’ side?” queries the Crown Prince.


“What happened to BEING AT YOUR WIFE’S SIDE? OOH! OOOH!” shouts the Gambling Man, celebrating at his glorious victory.


“I was too busy with yours,” quips Edwin, and all that is heard from the announce table is sobbing as Janus rises up on the floor with a look on his face that would terrify anybody; in fact, several members of the front row recede a little further into their seats. Johnson, on the other hand, is still trying to shake off the effects of the Knuckle Bomb, which means that if he’s scared, he doesn’t have the mental capacity to show it; he’s not running on anything more than instinct. He had better hope that his instinct is finely honed, then, because Janus rolls into the ring and takes a moment to stare the Canadian down before launching a third Knuckle Bomb, going back to the well that scored him his first fall! Johnson ducks, showing that his loopiness was likely little more than a ruse…and then decries that theory by securing a rear waistlock, much to the confusion of…well, everyone.


“Ha!” laughs the King, forgetting his alliance to chuckle at Johnson’s apparent moment of stupidity. “Good luck with that, JJ. You may have suplexed the Masked Crusader, but Janus has 8 inches and 80 pounds on him!”


Janus realizes this, and immediately reaches down and breaks Johnson’s in-any-other-situation iron grip before spinning on the spot with a reverse lariat that catches Johnson full in the chest, the Hell Machine following through on the blow…only to discover that Johnson has caught the swat, and uses it to scale the giant and secure another reverse facelock, pinioning the arm and locking in a second…


“Stretch Plum!” booms Edwin as the Hell Machine looks rather stunned to be caught in the crippling hold by such absurd means; however, he has a simple remedy. And so Janus flatbacks, crushing Johnson beneath his own massive girth!




But the best laid plans of mice and men considerably larger often go awry, as Johnson plants his feet on the back of the Australian before using that as a means of propelling himself backwards, causing Janus’ attempt to crush him to turn into a HIGH-impact reverse DDT! Johnson bounces from the fall, but uses that bounce to land on one knee, planting the other knee firmly into the spine of the Hell Machine and wrench back on the hold with all of his might! His eyes are covered by the hold, but the mouth of Janus is plain to see as the giant spits and snarls, no doubt more than a little displeased at his current position. Nevertheless, the Aussie is nothing if not persistent, and he attempts once more to lean forward out of the choke and perhaps nail Johnson with a second ADF II, although surely the Canadian wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for that ruse a second time.


As it happens, he isn’t, and he’s not foolish enough to fall for this one again either, as he replaces his knee with a foot, wrenching back now with an extraordinarily painful surfboard that torques the Hell Machine’s spine at an absurd angle, drawing a scream from the New South Welshman!


“This could be it!” shouts MacPhisto. “Surfboard Stretch Plum, and Janus damn well better play dead here even if the hold wouldn’t make him pass out, as that could cause some serious damage to his spine!”


The Hell Machine doesn’t look to be passing out anytime soon, and he continues snarling as Johnson wrenches back even harder…



…and Janus stays awake…


…and Johnson torques back EVEN FURTHER…


…and the Hell Machine grows a little less powerful with his angry vocalizations, but is fully awake nonetheless…


…and Johnson bends his own spine into an inhuman angle, every muscle in his body bulging as Janus’ neck and shoulder both begin to tear themselves apart from the pressure…


….and Janus goes limp.


“Get off him!” shouts referee Blaine Kalem, his command rather frightened-sounding, although whether by Johnson or by the prospect of Janus stalking him upon his rise is uncertain; regardless, the Canadian abandons the submission, and the Hell Machine slumps over as Kalem takes a hold of his arm and raises it, before dropping it repeatedly, the count reaching…




















“OH MY GOD!” screams the Heartbreaker, even he shocked at Johnson’s resilience and ingenuity – and luck – that has tied up a match nobody thought he would even score in.



Janus 2

Johnson 2

Time Remaining: 10:30



Janus attempts to sit up, but there’s not enough air in his body to make such a taxing move. Johnson, meanwhile, hangs back in the corner and considers his options: He could hang back and give Janus the chance to recover and rise to his feet; alternatively, he could mount the Hell Machine and elbow him back Down Under.











An easy decision, it would seem, as Johnson pounces on Janus before firing off an awe-inspiring series of elbow smashes that rocks the head of security hard! Janus reels, still trying to force his way back to consciousness, but manages to instinctively reach one meaty paw up and shove the Canadian away…and said Canadian wastes no time in charging forward and continuing his unstoppable hail of elbows!





Janus goes limp under the flurry of horrendous blows, but if Johnson sees it, he pays it no mind, instead blasting the Hell Machine with still more smashes…causing Blaine Kalem to tackle him off before turning around and almost boxing Johnson out as he raises and drops the arm

















Janus 2

Johnson 3

Time Remaining: 9:15



Edwin is speechless. King is speechless. Johnson sits back in the corner, content with the damage he’s done. The crowd is silent. 15 seconds pass. Janus lies still. King opens his mouth to say something, and decides against it. 30 seconds. Janus lies still.



“36,” whispers the Crown Prince. “36 elbow strikes. I don’t see ANYONE getting up from that.” King remains speechless. Janus remains still. 45 seconds. Johnson’s out-of-breath look, with Kalem still pinning him in the corner to keep him from continuing his assault, turns into a smile.


58 seconds.


Janus lies still.


One minute.






“Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, and the NEW #1 CONTENDER TO THE SWF HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE WORLD…J! J! JOHNSON!”


“I really have no comment,” says Edwin, “other than the fact that this was horrifying. Absolutely horrifying. God help Wes Davenport.”


King can only nod as Johnson slides out of the ring, now laughing to himself as he strides up the ramp, and we…




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“King, it’s been a good night of wrestling so far,” says Edwin MacPhisto. “It’s been great to be back here with you… and it’s been great to be back here in front of these great fans…” He pauses and rises from his seat to salute the fans, who reciprocate with even more cheers:








“For the last time,” barks the Suicide King, “stop fishing for praise, you attention whore! We’ve got to get on with the show!”


“Indeed,” agrees Edwin, as he sits back down. “In fact, it’s just about time for the main event, which will see Wildchild, in his first title defense, against Michael Cross!”


“It’ll be interesting to see how these two match up,” says King. “Michael Cross has a strong technical background, and I really like the aggression that he’s been showing in recent weeks… This is a big opportunity for him to propel himself straight to the top of the SWF rankings!”


“I’ll admit to being impressed by what I’ve seen of Michael Cross, King,” concedes Edwin, “but I’ve got a hunch that Wildchild is going to prevail. You know, King, I remember calling his very first match in Orlando, back down in the JL… and it amazing to see just how much he’s grown as a wrestler in the last four years!”


“Bah!” snorts King. “I’ll give the little creep his due: he’s definitely come a long way from where he started. He’s had some big wins against guys that I still don’t believe that he had any right to be in the same ring with… Hell, he’s even managed to become a nearly-adequate mat wrestler…”




King makes a bitter beer face. “But I just can’t STAND him! The very notion that this over-hyped spot monkey is holding the second-most prestigious championship in all of professional wrestling, while a true technical master like Jay Hawke is belt-less, makes my skin crawl!”


“Okay King, I’ll bite,” begins Edwin, “just who would you like to see holding the International Title, since it appears that Jay Hawke has decided to set his sights on the World Heavyweight Championship?”


“Well, to be perfectly honest, I think that it would look perfect around JJ Johnson’s waist,” replies King. “He’s a great mat wrestler, and I love his ‘no nonsense’ approach in the ring. A guy like that can really restore some of the luster and prestige to the title that has been lost since Wildchild became champion!”


“I think that that’s a little extreme,” says Edwin. “I mean, I won’t argue against the notion that Johnson would be a worthy champion; I’ve had a chance to watch a few of his matches this week, and the guy’s like a machine in there.”


“Exactly,” co-signs King. “It’s just too bad that Wildchild’s probably too much of a coward to ever face him!”


“Now, I don’t believe that for a minute!” replies Edwin. “I think that Wildchild’s going to be a fighting champion; I don’t see him ducking a title defense against anybody. And I’ll agree with you, King: I would love to see what those two are capable of in the ring! But tonight’s title match should be a dandy in its own right, so without any further ado, let’s send it to Funyon in the ring!”






“The sound of the bell gets the attention of the restless fans in the Pyramid, as Funyon raises the microphone to his lips:


“Ladies and gentlemen,” he booms, “this… is the MAIN EVENT!”






With that, the lights in the arena dim, the darkness pierced only by dark red strobe lights as the aggressive metal beat of “Omerta” by Lamb of God begins to play. The Suicide Machine steps out onto the stage, his red and black hoodie pulled low over his head. He barely acknowledges the fans as he proceeds methodically down to ringside.


“The following contest is for the International Championship,” hollers Funyon, “and it is scheduled for one fall! Making his way to the ring at this time is the challenger: from Detroit, Michigan, and weighing in at two hundred twenty-three pounds… here is the ‘Suicide Machine,’ MIIIIICHAEL CROSS!” The lights come back on as Cross removes the hood from his head and begins to pace the ring in anticipation.


“A determined look on the face of Michael Cross,” notes Edwin. “King, he’s bounced back quite well since losing the Tag Team Titles, wouldn’t you say?”


“Definitely,” agrees King, as Cross removes his hoodie. “I might have been more impressed if he had actually beaten Johnson to earn this match, but winning a Triple Threat to be named the Number One Contender is impressive in itself!” Michael hands his sweatshirt over the top rope to the ring attendant, and then begins bouncing back and forth on the ball of his feet as “Omerta” fades out, to be quickly replaced by the sound of Mystikal’s “Bouncin’ Back.”





“They’re on their feet here for the International Champion!” shouts Edwin, as Wildchild and Melissa step out onto the stage.


“His opponent,” continues Funyon, “is being accompanied to the ring by Melissa Fasaki! From the Bahamas, and weighing in at two hundred fourteen pounds… the International Champion… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!”


“Wildchild looks refreshed, King,” notes Edwin, as the pair proceed down the ramp. “It appears that that time off did him a world of good!” WC gives Melissa a quick squeeze before grabbing onto the bottom rope and somersaulting into the ring. Cross climbs out of the ring in deference to the Champion as he rolls to his feet. Wildchild removes the International Title from around his waist and strides over to the edge of the ring, leaping onto the middle rope and raising the belt above his head as the crowd cheers:







“Sorry, I didn’t have time to pay attention to whether or not Wildchild looked refreshed,” snaps King. “I was to busy noticing the fact that Wildchild still has those damned shin guards on!”


“Well, King, it’s my understanding that Storm is traditionally the hardcore show,” replies Edwin, “which would seem to suggest that the shin guards will be in play.”


“Well that’s just great!” snarls King. “Just make it legal for the guy to use a foreign object, why don’t you?” Referee Ronald “Red” Herrington walks over to WC and inform him that, despite being on Storm, this is not scheduled to be a hardcore match, as his music fades out. Nonplussed, the Bahama Bomber removes his shin guards and hands them out to Melissa as Michael returns to the ring.


“Well, there you go, King,” says Edwin. “It looks like the referee is making WC take the shin guards off, after all.”


“Good!” barks King. “At least now, there’ll be a fair fight!” WC surrenders the International Title to Herrington, who raises it above his head to display to the crowd, and then walks over to the edge of the ring, handing it to the departing Funyon before signaling the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match:




“That’s the bell!” shouts Edwin. “Let’s get it started!” Champion and challenger circle the ring and reach for each other tentatively before settling into a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Wildchild begins to back Michael towards a corner, but Cross quickly turns the tables on him, pushing WC into the padded buckles. The Suicide Machine takes a few steps back and waits for Wildchild to relax his guard before surprising him with a sucker punch! He then draws his arm back and lights up the Champion’s chest with a ferocious reverse knife-edge chop!


“Way to take the initiative!” praises King, as Michael unleashes another vicious chop. “You can’t be worried about upsetting your fans in a situation like this; the title’s on the line!” After a third chop, WC staggers away from the corner to try and gather himself.


“Tremendous chops by the challenger,” notes Edwin, as Wildchild draws his own arm back. “But here comes the Wildchild! He’s firing back with chops of his own!” WC knocks Cross a few paces back and then reaches towards him to apply a side headlock. Michael backs him against the ropes and then pushes him across the ring, but the Human Hurricane takes off at breakneck speed and rebounds before Cross can get his feet set, knocking the challenger onto his back with a running shoulderblock! Wildchild collapses atop him for a quick cover:






Cross easily kicks out at one, but WC beats him to his feet and runs back to the ropes, taking to the air as Cross gets back to his feet and taking him down again, this time with a flying shoulderblock! WC goes for the cover again:






Once again, Cross kicks out at one. Wildchild races to the ropes, but this time Michael greets him as he rebounds, leading him across the ring by the back of the head and tossing him over the top rope!


“Nice heads up move by Michael Cross,” says King, as Michael turns towards the center of the ring. “He caught Wildchild trying to go to the well once too often!”






“But he’d better keep his attention focused on the Champion!” replies Edwin, noting the crowds cheers as WC skins the cat back into the ring. “He thinks that Wildchild’s back on the floor!” Michael turns on his left heel just as Wildchild streaks past his right side, and so he doesn’t realize what’s happened until it’s too late: Cross turns back around just in time to see WC exploding off the top rope, curled up into a ball…






… As he levels the challenger with his patented Pinball attack! Wildchild scampers over for a cover…












… But only gets two! Michael gets to his feet quickly and swings for the fences with a wild right hook, but the Bahama Bomber is able to duck easily, swinging behind Cross as he traps him in a waistlock. WC gets the challenger off-balance with a back heel trip, as he throws him to the canvas with a waistlock takedown. The Human Hurricane immediately springs to his feet, hopping off the mat as Cross attempts to push up on his hands and knees…






… And crashes into his back with a quick leaping senton! Wildchild scrambles to his feet and runs to the ropes, leaping into the air as the Suicide Machine tries to get up again, and blasts him in the face with a running basement dropkick that sends him rolling towards the edge of the ring! WC watches patiently as Cross uses the ropes to pull himself back to his feet, and then sprints across the ring, whipping his leg through the air as he springs off the canvas…






… And slams into Michael’s throat, knocking him over the top rope and out to the arena floor with a leg lariat! The crowd erupts as Wildchild waves his arms above his head inside the ring.


“What a tremendous explosion of offense by the Wildchild!” exclaims Edwin. “He just went from zero to sixty in about four seconds, and Michael Cross did not have an answer for it!”


“Few people do,” replies King, as Cross begins to pull himself to his feet out on the floor, “but if there’s one thing that you can count on from Wildchild, it’s that he’ll eventually try something stupid that gets him into trouble!” The Bahama Bomber bounces against one set of ropes, and then races across the ring to the other, leaping onto the middle rope and springing back off, flipping backwards as he sails gracefully over the top rope…






… And crashes into Michael Cross with a breathtaking Spaceman Quebrada!









“My word!” shrieks Edwin. “Quebrada from the inside to the outside! What a spectacular move!”


“Well, Wildchild was lucky that he hit it this time, but it’s going to take more than that to put down Michael Cross,” replies King. “And he might not be so lucky the next time!” Wildchild pulls Cross to his feet, but the Suicide Machine surprises him by trapping him in a front waistlock and pushing him back against the edge of the ring apron! He then turns WC around to face the ring, before slamming the Champion’s face against the edge!


“I told you!” proclaims King. “Wildchild can dish it out, but this kid can take it!” Cross rolls WC back into the ring, and then climbs into the ring to apply a cover:













Wildchild kicks out at two. Michael pulls WC to his feet and stands behind him, wrapping his right arm around Wildchild’s waist and hooking his left arm underneath the Champion’s leg as he lifts him up for a belly-to-back suplex, but the Tropical Tumbler rolls off of his shoulders and lands on his feet behind the challenger! WC traps Cross in a waistlock and pushes him towards the corner ahead, pulling backwards as soon as he feels Michael’s chest contact the turnbuckles, and rolls him into a pinning combination:













Cross kicks out at two, so forcefully that WC is sent careening into the corner, crashing headfirst into the middle turnbuckle!


“Nice power display by Michael Cross to kick out of that cradle move, and knock Wildchild face-first into that buckle!” praises King. Cross scoops Wildchild up in his arms and then quickly slams him back down to the canvas. WC starts to push himself up on his knees while Michael’s back is to him, but suddenly decides to lie back down, rolling onto his back before the challenger turns back around.


“Look at this!” shouts Edwin. “What’s Wildchild going for here?” Cross bends down to pull Wildchild up, and the Caribbean Cruiser braces his feet against the canvas as he grabs the unsuspecting Cross by the arm, taking advantage of the challenger’s lack of balance to pull him forcefully towards the mat! The crowd roars as WC rolls onto his knees and applies an armbar.


“That was clever bit of subterfuge by the Wildchild,” says Edwin. “Boy, I know I made mention of it before the match, King, but you can REALLY see how much this kid has developed as a wrestler since he first arrived here in the SWF!”


“Even I’ve got to give it up to Wildchild for that one,” concedes King, as Wildchild straddles Michael’s back to apply more pressure to the armbar. “That was the sort of move that he would have fallen victim to a couple of years ago; I guess it was only a matter of time before rubbing shoulders with the likes of Tom Flesher, Ejiro Fasaki, Scott Pretzler and Jay Hawke started to pay off!” Cross finally squirms out from underneath Wildchild and negotiates his way to his feet. He backs WC against the ropes and frees himself from the armbar by whipping him across the ring. The Suicide Machine hooks his arm underneath Wildchild’s to take him over with a hiptoss, but WC swings through and plants his feet into Michael’s midsection as he tosses him overhead with a Freefall monkey flip! Wildchild beats Cross to his feet and hooks his arm underneath that of the challenger’s, taking him over with a lightning-fast armdrag!


“Beautiful armdrag by the International Champion,” praises Edwin, “and I don’t think anybody in the fed today has better execution on that move, King!”


“Well, Michael Cross needs to try and regroup if he wants to have a chance of winning this match,” notes King. “He’s shown a lot of resilience, but so far, every time he tries to take control, Wildchild’s found a way to get the better of it!” WC rolls Cross over onto his belly and then begins to kick away at the challenger’s elbow.


“This is some fine technical wrestling by Wildchild,” notes Edwin, as Cross negotiates his way back to his knees, “and it shows that he’s done his homework, as well: if Michael Cross can’t get full flexion or extension out of that elbow, he’s not going to be able to properly execute that Silent Rage Syndrome.”


“Or that Devil’s Soul Snare, for that matter,” adds King, as Michael manages to take WC down to the mat with a drop toehold, escaping the armbar. The Suicide Machine quickly scrambles towards WC’s upper body to apply a side headlock but, in his haste, he doesn’t get it applied properly, and the Champion slips out the back door, countering into a hammerlock!


“That was a nice counter with the drop toehold,” says King, as WC delivers a series of kneedrops into Michael’s back, “but he had a little too much momentum going forward when he went for that side headlock, and got the hold too high on Wildchild’s head, enabling him to slide his head out and reverse it.”


“Well, I understand that Cross has occasionally had some difficulty in dealing with quicker opponents,” adds Edwin, as WC and Cross both get back to their feet. “He’s probably accustomed to being the smaller man when he’s in there in singles competition.” Michael thrusts his free arm behind him and snaps WC’s head back with a back elbow to escape from the hammerlock. He grabs Wildchild by the arm and whips him across the ring, but WC grabs onto the ropes to prevent himself from rebounding. Cross charges towards him, and gets stopped by a kick to the midsection for his trouble. WC grabs him by the back of the head and leads him over to the edge of the ring, leaping over the top rope and down to the floor as he clotheslines Cross against the top rope with the Macho Neck Snap!




“Quick thinking by the Wildchild!” praises Edwin. “King, he’s been excellent on both offense and defense here tonight!” Wildchild climbs back onto the apron and waits for Cross to get to his feet before leaping onto the top rope and springing back into the ring towards his opponent, landing in a seated position on Michael’s shoulders. Before the Caribbean Cruiser can wrap his legs around the challenger’s head, Cross pushes him off forcefully, and he flips backwards gracefully down to the canvas…






… But the Suicide Machine lunges forward suddenly, slashing his heel through the air and blasting Wildchild in the knee basement dropkick! Cross scrambles back to his feet and runs to the ropes, charging towards WC as he pushes himself up off the canvas…




… And blasting him in the face with a running kneelift that sends the Champion rolling across the ring and out to the arena floor!


“Amazing counter to that Hurricanrana attempt,” shots Edwin. “Michael Cross is starting to show signs of life in this match!” Michael steps out onto the ring apron and turns to face the inside of the ring as Wildchild gets back to his feet, before hopping onto the bottom rope and flipping backwards out onto the arena floor…






… Crashing into the International Champion with a picture-perfect Asai moonsault! Cross pulls Wildchild to his feet and leads him over to the edge of the ring, rolling him underneath the bottom rope back into the ring, before using the ropes to pull himself back onto the ring apron. Upon standing up, he immediately runs to the corner and climbs to the top rope, leaping back into the ring…






… And landing on top of Wildchild with a Double Stomp! He collapses atop WC, holding the Champion’s upper body to the canvas with his own as the referee dives into position to assess the three count:

















“Michael Cross was able to score with that Avalanche Head Trauma,” notes Edwin, “but Wildchild found it within himself to kick out!”


“Wildchild may have been able to kick out of that,” replies King, “but he’s going to be on the defensive now; Michael Cross turned the tide of this match with that dropkick to the knee, and now Wildchild will have to wrestle defensively which, despite his improvement as a wrestler, is something that he still has yet to prove that he’s consistently capable of doing.”


Cross pulls Wildchild to his feet and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring, and lowering his head as the Champion rebounds to lift him into the air with a backdrop, but the Bahama Bomber flips all the way through and lands on his feet behind the challenger. Wildchild runs to the edge of the ring, but Michael springs off the canvas as he bounces off the ropes and locks his legs around WC’s neck, arching backwards as he takes him over with a Hurricanrana!


“Beautiful Rana,” exclaims Edwin, as Herrington dives into position. “And Michael Cross is feeling it right now!”






















Wildchild kicks out from the pinfall attempt, but not without considerable effort. Cross pulls him up to his feet and then scoops him up, extending his thigh as he drops the Champion back down into a pendulum backbreaker! Cross immediately pulls him back to his feet and tucks his head underneath WC’s arm, as he lifts him up into a Northern Lights Suplex!


“Cross is going for the Triple Northern Lights!” cries Edwin, as Michael rolls over onto his knees and pulls WC up for the second suplex.


“If he hits all three, we could have a new champion!” shouts King. Cross inadvertently rolls closer to the edge of the ring as he pulls Wildchild up a third time. He lifts the Champion overhead and slams him back down with the third suplex, holding him for the pinfall as Herrington delivers the count:
















“Not quite!” yells Edwin. “Wildchild’s foot is on the ropes!”


“Figures that he’d try something that cowardly!” gripes King. Cross pulls WC back to his feet and whips him into the ropes, lowering his head to deliver a back-body drop that sends Wildchild hurtling through the air!


“Big backdrop by the challenger,” says Edwin. “Michael Cross has it locked in right now!” Cross pulls WC to his feet, but the Bahama Bomber appears to still have some starch left in him, as he begins to rifle punches into the challenger’s midsection. Wildchild runs to the ropes, but Cross gives chase, and clotheslines him over the top rope as he begins to rebound!


“Tremendous heads up move there by the challenger!” praises King, as Michael swipes his hands across his waist to pantomime a belt. “And look at that look in his eyes; he can feel it!” Cross reaches between the top and middle ropes to pull Wildchild back onto the apron, where he traps him in a front facelock.


“He’s going to try and suplex him in!” shouts King. Cross lifts Wildchild up over the top rope and begins to fall back into the ring, but the International Champion shifts his weight as he begins to fall and lands atop his opponent! He remains on top as Herrington counts:

















“Kickout,” shouts King. “Wildchild hasn’t done enough damage to take him out!” Wildchild rolls away from Cross, and then returns to his feet. He runs towards the challenger as he gets to his feet and leaps into the air…







… But Michael catches him in midair and spins him around, driving him down onto his knee with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker!


“Tremendous tilt-a-whirl,” cries Edwin. “He got him that time!”


“Wildchild is down and out,” adds King, as Cross heads over to the corner. “But what the hell is Cross doing?”


Michael steps out onto the ring apron and climbs up to the top turnbuckle. Without a word, he leaps off of the turnbuckle and flips forward into the ring, poised to execute a Sunset Flip …






… But the Bahama Bomber suddenly springs off the canvas and knocks Cross out of the air with a standing dropkick!







“Michael Cross wanted to end this match with Sunset Flip,” cries Edwin, “but he appeared to have tried that move prematurely!”


“Absolutely,” agrees King, as Wildchild uses the ropes to pull himself back to his feet. “This is the time when you want to rub Wildchild’s face into the mat, and continue to wear him down; there was no need to try to go for the ‘home run’ there! Now he’s given Wildchild a little bit of breathing room… and we both know that a little bit is all that Wildchild needs to turn the tables on a match!”


Wildchild pulls Cross to his feet and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring into the opposite turnbuckle! Before the challenger can even stagger out of the corner, the Human Hurricane launches himself forward with breakneck speed, leaping into the air as he draws near the corner and twisting his body around…






… Crashing into the Suicide Machine with his patented Blue Crush body splash!


“Blue Crush,” shouts Edwin. “That move drives all of the air right out of you! That could be the break that Wildchild needs to take over this match!” Wildchild races towards the edge of the ring as Cross staggers out of the corner, and leaps into the air, blasting him in the side of the head with a climb-up Enzugiri! WC goes for a cover:
















But only gets two! Wildchild gets to his feet and steps out onto the apron, quickly leaping up to the top turnbuckle and waiting for Michael to stand up before leaping back into the ring, wrapping his arms around the challenger’s waist as he sails overhead to pull him backwards into a Sunset Flip…






… But the Suicide Machine rolls through the pinning attempt and blasts WC with a dropkick to the face!


“Brilliant counter on the part of Michael Cross!” praises King. Cross pulls Wildchild to his feet and traps him in a double underhook before lifting him up off the canvas and driving him back down with a double-arm Brainbuster!


“Nail in the Cross!” shouts Edwin. “That’s got to do it!” Cross rolls WC onto his back and collapses atop him for a cover:





















“No way!” croaks King. “Where did he find the energy to kick out of that?” Michael pulls Wildchild to his feet and pushes him against the ropes…






… Before rearing his harm back and slicing it into the Champion’s chest with a reverse knife-edge chop!








Cross chops into the Bahama Bomber a few more times before grabbing him by the wrist and whipping him across the ring. The Suicide Machine grabs Wildchild as he bounces off the ropes and lifts him up into a bearhug…






… Before driving him down onto his knee with an inverted Atomic Drop! As Wildchild bends clutches his lower body in pain, Cross runs back towards the ropes, and launches himself back towards the Champion with surprising speed, his arm extended to deliver a fierce running clothesline…







… But as quick as Michael is, Wildchild is even quicker, and he ducks the clothesline attempt, slashing his leg up as the challenger spins around to blast him in the mouth with a shuffling sidekick!


“Sidekick,” shrieks Edwin. “Wildchild still had enough left in the tank to duck that clothesline, and hit the sidekick on Cross!” As Cross staggers backwards from the force of the kick, Wildchild races towards the ropes, leaping onto the top rope and curling into a ball as he springs off…






… Smashing into the Suicide Machine’s chest once again with the Pinball attack! Both men lie motionless on the canvas as the referee begins his count:












“Oh my goodness,” shouts Edwin. “This match is going down to the wire!”












At the count of nine, Michael sits up to the cheers of the crowd. He rolls over onto his knees and crawls over to the Wildchild, who still hasn’t moved, and collapses on top of his chest. Herrington dives down to the mat and counts the pin:

















“My word!” sighs Edwin, “Wildchild kicked out! He will not stay down!”


“Cross better stop screwing around and put him away,” adds King. “He’s running out of time!” Cross pulls Wildchild to his feet and goes behind him to apply a waistlock. He lifts him up off of the canvas to deliver a strong backdrop suplex, but the Human Hurricane rolls through, flipping off of Cross’s shoulders and landing behind him. WC kicks Michael in the midsection as he turns around and traps him in a front facelock; lifting the challenger off the canvas before he has time to react and slamming him back down with a corkscrew suplex!


“There’s that patented corkscrew suplex of the Wildchild’s,” says Edwin, as the Caribbean Cruiser heads to a nearby corner. “And you know what that means… Air Bahamas, Flight twenty-three is ready for takeoff!” Wildchild leaps off the top turnbuckle, twisting his body in midair as he crashed down into the challenger with the Andros Dive! He remains atop Cross for the pinfall:
















“No way!” shouts King. “Foot was on the ropes!” With a snort of frustration, Wildchild pulls Cross to his feet, only for the Suicide Machine to stun him with a rake of the eyes. Michael grabs him by the wrist and whips him across the ring, lowering his head to deliver a back-body drop as he bounces off the ropes…





… Only for Wildchild to leap into the air and extend his leg over the challenger’s neck as he falls, driving him face-first into the canvas with the Caribbean Cutter! The crowd begins cheering wildly as WC pops back to his feet, and become impossibly louder when he raises his arms above his head before pulling them down to his chest in that now familiar motion!






“That’s the sign for the Wild Ride!” gasps Edwin. Wildchild traps Michael in an inverted standing headscissors and reaches back to lock in a double underhook. He then spins around and gets his feet squarely underneath him as he lifts Cross onto his shoulders. WC looks out into the crowd and releases a primitive growl before he falls backwards…












“Wild Ride!” croaks Edwin, as Wildchild rolls Cross over. The fans in attendance count along with Red Herrington’s hand as it slaps the mat:


























The Pyramid rocks with cheers as “Bouncin’ Back” begins to pump through the speakers once more! Wildchild flops over onto his back, panting like a dog as Red Herrington raises his hand in victory.


Funyon rises from his seat at ringside, delivering the International Title to the edge of the ring as he lifts the microphone to his lips. “Here is your winner,” he says, “and… STIIIIIL International Champion: the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!”


“Wildchild come up big in his first International Title defense,” says Edwin, “as we wrap up Storm down here in Memphis… for the King, this is the one and only Edwin MacPhisto, wishing you good night, everybody!”


Wildchild walks over to the corner as a dejected Cross rolls out of the ring, and raises his Championship belt in salute to his fans…



As we:


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And that as they say, is a wrap.


Stuff will be edited in whenever it's sent in, naturally.


And once I figure out what I'm doing with the card, you're all DOOMED.

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