SWF Smarkdown 5/08/2006

[chirs3 0]

"Tell me exactly, what am I supposed to do

Now that I have allowed you, to beat me!

Do you think that we could play another game

Maybe I could win this ti-ime."

 

"Oh, great." groans King.

 

"I kinda like the misery you put me through

Darling you can trust me, completely!

If you even try to look the other way

I think that I could kill this ti-ime!"

 

Disturbed's "The Game" kicks into gear and through the curtains emerge the SWF's self proclaimed Power Couple, SWF World Heavyweight Champion Landon Maddix and his trusty manager Megan Skye. The crowd give Landon a predictably hositle welcome as, blood smeared World Title draped over his right shoulder, Landon holds his hands aside and looks to the heavens above, as if thanking the good Todd above for his mere greatness. Megan leads the way as Landon then strides down the aisle, paying the crowd no more attention than he feels they deserve. I.e, none.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome MEGAN SKYE... and the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation WORLD Heavyweight Champion... LANDON "LA CUCARACHA"... MMMAAAAAADDIIIIIIIXXXXXXXXX!!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"Well, here comes a remorseless son of a bitch if ever I saw one." criticises Mak. "The dried blood you can clearly see on our World Championship is that of Amy Stephens, the SWF Hardcore Gamers Champion who we regret to inform you won't be here tonight after the unsettling beating Landon laid on her on Lockdown. Amy has a Grade 3 concussion and is recovering from some understandable side-effects of losing so much blood."

 

"Resisting obvious joke here."

 

"I hate to sound mysogonistic. Amy is an athlete, she's our Hardcore Champion. But she's still a young woman and Landon treated her like a dog on Lockdown, with not a hint of compassion. And now, he comes out here, clearly proud of what he's done."

 

Landon and Megan have by now entered the ring and sent Funyon packing, Landon taking the microphone to the disappointment of all.

 

"EverybodybetterlissenupcosI'vegotsomefingtosayINNIT!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

Evidently pleased with himself, Landon wipes a wry smile from his face.

 

"See, ere's wot it is, right. Last week, I woz in this ring, right an' I was kickin' someone's arse right, and I...I..."

 

Unable to contain himself any longer, Landon bursts out laughing.

 

"Oh man. Hard to keep that shtick up. I don't know how those English people can talk like that for so long without cracking up, I swear I don't. So let's try some eloquence out here, shall we? Talk like a Champion? And while Amy 'does fetches' a dictionary, allow me to tell you a little story. The story of the 'Ugly Duckling'. See, once there was an ugly duckling, grey in colour, different from the rest. It stood out from the crowd with it's unkept feathers, it's hideous appearance and it's incomprehensible squawking. Everybody shunned that ugly duckling because...well, it was ugly. Duh. But then, one day, they ugly duckling got laid for the first time since her Sixth Form Leaver's Ball when some prat named 'Dazza' in a burberry cap and soiled 'tracky bottoms' took her behind the bike sheds and 'tested her gangsta'. Suddenly, that ugly ducking felt loved. It felt needed. It didn't have to reach for the Rampant Rabbit every night anymore. And by association, that ugly duckling soon became popular. And after all I did for it, what did it do? It dumped me."

 

The crowd cheer, just to make themselves an annoyance. Glancing around, Landon seems just the slightest bit embarrased by the glee people are taking in what was a humiliating moment...until he sees Megan beside him smirking. Well, you'd be perked up by that too.

 

"She 'dumped' me. And you made, oh so much of a big song and dance over it too Amy, didn'tcha? You took such delight in kicking me to the curb on live TV. Well Amy, as the saying goes, paybacks are a bitch. And bitch...consider yourself paid back!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"He's got a big mouth knowing Amy isn't around to take offence." sneers King.

 

"All I've heard since Lockdown was what a sick bastard I am." Landon continues. "And if I didn't realise how hypocritical you people are and how insignificant your opinion, I might give a damn. But I don't. I didn't do anything nearly as sadistic as Bruce Blank did. I didn't drop her on her head and try to paralyse her like her brother would. And hey, it's not like I took her title."

 

Megan, completely agreeing, applauds.

 

"I could have, make no mistake. The question is, why would I lower myself to hold such an insignificant, trashy, worthless belt when I'm the SWF World Heavyweight Champion? Barbed wire and flaming tables are all well and good in the backyard and in the bingo halls, but this is WRESTLING! And Hardcore Wrestling is trash! Bruce Blank needs to hit people over the spine with lighttubes because he's an incompetent backyard wrestler who's incapable of anything with any credibility. Bloodshed needs to throw himself into thumbtacks because it's all he's good for, being a freak. The Insane Luchador has to dive into pits of glass because it's the only way people will give a flying crap about him. And Amy Stephens has to wrestle in the Hardcore Division because she's an untrained, no-talent, fat-ass binge drinker who doesn't deserve any employment within the SWF, aside from maybe cleaning up the piss buckets in the back. I don't need to do any of that shit, because I am a professional wrestler and I am the World Heavyweight Champion, something which none of those four can say and will ever be able to say!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

"Take that!" King sneers, resisting the urge to cry 'Oh, snap' on air.

 

"I am your World Heavyweight Champion and don't you people forget it!" Landon continues, head swelling. "At the end of the night, it's me you'll be watching, because I'm the Champ. The main event. The reason you pay your money to come watch the SWF! I might not come out here like Wildchild and do top rope, reverse dragonrana saults. I might not be like JJ Johnson, hitting people with... Super..Laser..Bomb Drivers. And I might not do Massacre..Death..Bombs through a glass replica of Mother Teresa off of a sixty four foot scaffold, while on fire and eating a rat poison sandwich like Bruce Blank. But I am your World Champion! That means you respect me! What I do, you enjoy! Unconditionally! So if I decide I wanna come out and slap on a cravaté on someone for 10 minutes, you stupid retards are gonna sit on your hands and you're gonna like it! And if I beat a woman half to death, you're gonna keep your damn mouths shut and not so much as DARE to doubt my actions, because I am the World Heavyweight Champion and what I say goes!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

Unimpressed by this egomaniacal ranting, the Iraqi crowd jeer wildly, much to Landon's frustrations. Megan places her hands over Landon's ears to block out the noise, not wanting the crowd to get to her man.

 

 

However, suddenly the mood changes. A brutal, stuttering guitar riff starts up, a guitar riff not heard in the SWF for nearly two years.

 

“What the hell!?” Suicide King barks.

 

The crowd turns to look disbelievingly at the massive Smarktron and sure enough, they see what they expect to see. Because this music is ‘We Still Kill The Old Way’ by Lostprophets, and it was used back in early 2004 by the man currently shown taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table with a move known as the Toxxic Shock Syndrome. Back when this music was first heard in the SWF, the man using it used to be quite popular with the crowd.

 

“TOXXXXXXXXXXX-IC…”

 

Back then, before the days of broken necks, World Titles and Revolution Zero.

 

“TOXXXXXXXXXXX-IC…”

 

Back then, before he fell from grace with the SWF fans, Toxxic would have been cheered over Landon Maddix any day.

 

“TOXXXXXXXXXXX-IC…”

 

It looks like those days are back.

 

*BOOOM!!*

 

Red pyro erupts from the soundstage beneath the Smarktron and for a moment all beyond is obscured by smoke and haze. Then, striding through and wearing a Revolution Zero T-shirt, comes a man with eyeliner, nail polish and spiky black hair.

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAoooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”

 

“What the hell!? Mak Francis says in shock, but for quite different reasons to his commentary partner’s earlier outburst. Sure enough, the man walking down the ramp towards the ring where a smirking Landon Maddix is waiting has the right hair, the right make-up, the right clothes and is coming out to one of two choices for the right music.

 

But sunshine, that ain’t Toxxic.

 

“Is that Matt Myers?” Suicide King exclaims disbelievingly, but the Gambling Man shouldn’t be such a doubter, because that’s exactly who it is. The SWF’s most notorious jobber slides under the bottom rope and climbs to the second buckle where he throws his arms wide, palms flat towards the floor in a pose reminiscent of a certain three-time World Champion.

 

“OK, Landon has to be behind this, right?” Francis says.

 

“Agreed.”

 

“But I thought he said he was done with Amy’s family?” the Franchise says in confusion, “on Lockdown he said, I distinctly remember him saying, that he was done with Amy and her family. Now he comes out here running his mouth and trying to provoke her, then -we presume- pays Matt Myers to come out dressed up as her brother, the brother Landon has been publicly declaring his desire to cripple for, oh, the last four months or so?”

 

“Hush Mak,” King says gloomily, hardly relishing yet more ego stroking from Maddix, “it looks like the ‘Straight-Edge Sensation’ is about to speak.”

 

Sure enough Myers has requested, nay, demanded a microphone and is now standing facing Landon Maddix who is trying -unsuccessfully, it’s worth noting- to keep a grin off his face. Myers raises the microphone, takes a deep breath, and prepares to speak for the first time in a good few years.

 

“Alright, mate? Cor blimey, I weren’t half mad when you laid a walloping on my sister, know what I mean?”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Come back Dick Van Dyke, all is forgiven,” Francis mutters, putting his head in his hands as Myers manages to murder a British accent even worse than the veteran actor’s disastrous cockney impersonation in ‘Mary Poppins’. The Iraqi crowd don’t seem too happy either, although how they can tell the difference between a genuine British accent and a (maybe deliberately) very poor American attempt is a mystery. Maybe they’re just booing because Landon Maddix is in the ring and smiling. It’s probably a good enough reason.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Punk Rockstar!” Maddix grins, pointing at Myers. “I’m telling you Toxxic, I’m glad you showed up; with Spike Jenkins going all emo we really need another whiny, petulant straight-edger with a liking for appalling music in the federation!”

 

“Shut your bloody mouth Maddix,” Myers-Toxxic responds, mugging horribly, “unless you want me to slap it orf yer flaming face sunshine, ya get me?”

 

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want that!” Maddix says, recoiling in mock horror. “But tell me Toxxic, since you’re here; why has it taken you so long to come and tell me off for sleeping with your sister, huh? I mean you’d have thought that most big brothers would come running when a guy they hated started banging their little sis, but I guess you’re different, right? I mean, was it because you didn’t know what was going on?”

 

“Uh-uh,” fake Toxxic shakes his head, “I’m so completely obsessed with wrestling that I record every show that’s broadcast anywhere in the world and jerk off over it!”

 

“Niiiiiiiiiiice,” Landon grimaces, “so, if you knew that I was banging your sister then why didn’t you do something? Don’t you like her?”

 

“No way!” Myers denies, “I love all my family, gawd bless ‘em every one! Just cos she’s a loud-mouthed bitch with more tits than brains doesn’t mean I don’t care for her!”

 

“Come on Toxxic, be fair,” Landon chides merrily, “no-one could have that much brains! I know some people say that more than a handful is a waste, but mmm-hmm,” the World Champion sighs ostentatiously, “as far as I’m concerned it just means there’s plenty to go in your mouth as well!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Urgh, please,” Mak Francis protests, “more detail than I wanted to know!”.

 

“I hate to say this, but Landon actually has a point…” King admits reluctantly.

 

“LAN-DON SUCKS!”

 

“LAN-DON SUCKS!”

 

The crowd are definitely heating up now, the off-duty GIs in the crowd starting the anti-Maddix chants that spread through the fans and showing that hey, different cultures can work in harmony if only there’s something they both dislike equally to focus against. As plans are abruptly made to ship Ash Ketchum to the Middle East, Landon raises his microphone again.

 

“So Toxxic; if you knew I was sleeping with your sister, and you care for your sister, then what on Earth stopped you from coming back and giving me a jolly good going-over?” the Huron native asks his pseudo-British ‘enemy’, waggling his eyebrows in what he probably thinks is a comedic manner. “Don’t tell me; no Visa?”

 

“Prepare to be proved wrong,” Myers says in response, “no Landon, the reason I didn’t bloody well come back and bloody well beat you in for touching my sister was… because I’m afraid of you!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Surely not!” Landon denies. “No! I don’t believe it! Toxxic, the man everyone knew as a violent, psychotic maniac who’d never back down from a fight as long as he had at least two goons running interference for him? Toxxic why would you be afraid of little ol’ me?”

 

“Well,” Myers says, “because-OOF!”

 

“No, don’t tell me, it’s because of THIS!” Landon shouts, burying his foot in Myers’ gut and doubling him over, causing the former SJL reject to start wheezing.

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

“Somehow I don’t think Myers knew this was in the script,” Mak Francis comments.

 

“God, he’s dumb,” King groans.

 

Maddix stands over the hapless Myers, who having been caught completely by surprised has dropped to his knees, completely winded. In the background, Megan seems to be the sole person in the entire country who's amused by all this, while Landon stands over Myers with a smirk. For the time being, possession of the microphone is given to Megan as Landon now stands over the Cosplay Master and holds his arms to the side, hands out, palms flat. The crowd give The Next Generation a hard time, but they've seen nothing yet as Maddix captures Myers' arms in a double underhook and hauls him to his feet. Myers puts up no fight, as Maddix then hauls him up, spinning around and sitting out with the MSS!

 

"'Maddix' Shock Syndrome!" groans Mak. "This is ridiculous, what the hell is he trying to prove here?"

 

Sliding into a seated position, Maddix reclaims the microphone from Megan and leans towards the face-down Matt "Toxxic" Myers.

 

"Thanks buddy...best fourty bucks I ever spent." smiles Landon, before standing up and directing himself towards the hard camera. "Amy, I'd hate to think you're like your brother and fear me after what I did to you on Lockdown. So, here's the deal. By next show, I'll get an open contract written up for a World Title match and I will walk down to this ring. All you have to do, if you have the you-now-whats, is stroll down after me and put your John Q.Stephens on the dotted line. I won't do what I just did to 'your brother'...wink wink...I promise. You come out, you sign the contract, everyone's happy. It's just a question of whether you had enough of me on Lockdown, or if you want another shot. Depende de ti, ya get me?"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

Landon drops the mic down across the back of Myers head, causing him to writhe a little more while the SWF's Power Couple turn and begin to leave. A couple of referees have come down to drag Myers' carcass from the ring, feeling enough time has been wasted on Landon's egomaniacal symbolism.

 

"Our World Champion ladies and gentlemen." bemoans King. "Don't say I didn't warn you all."

 

"We'll be back with something slightly less vomit enducing, next."

Edited May 10, 2006 by Ace309

[chirs3 0]

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents...
SWF SMARKDOWN!
Live, Monday, May 8th, from the GREEN ZONE in Baghdad, Iraq!
(6pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings)



RUDOS Y TECHNICOS! Ariba la raza! Odelea! Why am I using Spanish on a card booked in the middle east? I don't know! But the main event simply demands it! The world tour continues along as we make our next stop in one of the most ancient cities in the world, the capital of Iraq, Baghdad! The heavily fortified Green Zone is the locale for this show, which houses most of the important administrative buildings in Baghdad. An outdoor ring has been set up and an audience should consist mostly of GI's and dignitaries. And, if we're lucky, the occasional infidel hating extremist still upset over Ramadomination...

OPENING PROMO: Landon Maddix

MAIN EVENT
LUCHA LIBRE TRIOS MATCH
JJ Johnson, Manson and "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins vs Zyon, Wildchild and "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu
->A tantalizing tag team throw-down! I could do better alliteration, but I don't really care enough to. The result of me booking the main event through chat is actually not that bad for a change, as six of the best cruiserweights in the SWF throw down for a shot at Grendel's gold. Former cruiserweight champions Akira and Zyon team up with the greatest high flier in federation history, while two-time champ Spike Jenkins, the new International champ JJ Johnson, and one half of the tag team champions, Manson, do BIG BATTEL! Hey, wait, Manson isn't a crusierweight!
Rules: RUDOS Y TECHNICOS! Let's see if I remember this correctly. Tag team cruiserweight rules. The ring for this matchup is octagonal in shape, and there are two referees, one heel and one face. Additionally, Team Rudo and Team Technicos need to have a team captain! Wildchild and Spike Jenkins for each respective squad! If Team Rudo wins, JJ Johnson and Spike Jenkins face Grendel in a triple threat for the title. If Team Technicos wins, all three of them face Grendel in a fatal four way for the title. Masks are optional, but reccomended.

SINGLES BOUT
Aecas vs Sean Davis
->Aecas, the rather large Briton, returned after a long haitus from SWF action on the last show, wiping out Manson along the way. A former hardcore champion, tag team champion, and JL world (I believe) champion, Aecas was a force in the midcard before his exodus, including a frightening tag team run with fellow behemoth Janus. Just to keep a sense of continuity with the description, Aecas takes on Sean Davis here in his second match back.
Rules: Standard singles match.

HOUSE RULES
"6th ENGINEERS" SWEEP AND CLEAR MATCH
Jimmy the Doom vs Austin Sly
->The Doomtopian and the recently returned Austin Sly face off against each other in the requisite House Match as the SWF World Tour '06 continues. In the US Army, they call it "sweep and clear." It's more popularly known as "search and destroy." But in the SWF, hide and seek is hide and seek no matter what the name is - even if the army version has more high explosives. In Baghdad, even in the Green Zone, there's always a danger of mortar attacks, suicide bombings and other uncouth kinds of warfare. We've co-opted the daily security work by US forces with a classic SWF matchup, and the end result should be fun for the whole family!
Rules: Within the Green Zone reside a number of large "bombs" filled with enviromentally friendly, bio-degradable Gak™. We'll say there's like 25 in all, placed in conspicuous areas. The winner is whoever disarms as many as possible within the time limit (15:00). If you accidentally set one off, it doesn't count. Additionally, while the Green Zone is the safest part of Baghdad, that isn't really saying too much...

SINGLES BOUT, NON-TITLE
Grendel© vs Bloodshed
->The mysterious Grendel, SWF Cruiserweight champion, has seen his stock rise rapidly in the last few weeks. In the opening bout of this show, he takes on the recently returned Bloodshed in what should be a ripper. (Z note: This match is a rebooking because of a Bruce Blank request)
Rules: Standard singles match.

[chirs3 0]

Night has fallen, and the smoke from the opening fireworks, or possibly, the smoke from the latest tomahawk missile has yet to settle on the Green Zone as the cameras begin to roll. The lingering haze is still present as the cameras make a sweeping pass of the rows of military personnel, tanks, and humvees surrounding the makeshift crowd barricades.

 

“Welcome to SWF SMARKDOWN, LIVE from the GREEN ZONE in BAGHDAD, IRAQ!” Suicide King bellows, making sure he can be heard over the celebratory gunfire. “

 

“We certainly do,” ‘The Franchise’ Mak Francis agrees, “and to start us off we have two men with a lot to prove taking it to each other in our sacred mosque of wrestling; the squared circle!”

 

“Oh…that was rather…*tacky*,” King says, shaking his head in disgrace at his announcing partner. Francis narrows his eyes. “I think we better get this one started before you start drawing offensive cartoons.”

 

DING DING DING!!

 

The timekeeper sounds the bell to draw the fans attention to the ring where the ring announcer, Funyon, now stands. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he says. “The following match will be conducted under standard one fall rules with disqualifications in effect!”

 

The crowd cheers the announcement of tonight’s first match, prompting the ring announcer to hold off momentarily.

 

“Introducing first…” Funyon continues as the lights begin to slowly dim, coinciding with the opening line to Evanescence’s “Bring Me to Life”. The crowd roars their approval to the arrival of the new Champion, giving the rookie his second biggest pop to date! Lights that are lined up alongside the stage begin a slow strobe - it’s reflection off the back walls are reminiscent of a lighting storm in the distance that is slowly approaching, and it moves in perfect harmony with the music. Finally, the song pauses for a single beat and…

 

“WAKE ME UP!”

 

*BOOM!*

 

…an entire row of pyros erupt alongside the stage as the songs chorus kicks in, summoning Grendel from backstage!

 

“Hailing from Manhattan, New York, and weighing in at 220lbs; he is your current and reigning SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION, ‘The Spirit of Aggression’ GGGGRRRRRRENDEEEEEEL!”

 

“While we don’t know a lot about the mysterious Grendel we do know that he is out for one thing…redemption,” Francis reports. “Since his quest here in the SWF began he has gone on an undefeated streak of wins, and picked up the Cruiserweight Championship in the process.”

 

“I wouldn’t place much faith in that so called ‘undefeated streak,” Suicide King adds while rolling his eyes. “Grendel hasn’t wrestled against very many ‘high-caliber’ opponents yet. His opponent, however, is anything but another creampuff for Hunter Rose to face. Bloodshed’s beaten people that you’ve actually heard of, and held more than a single championship belt in his career.”

 

“True,” the Franchise agrees once again. “Bloodshed is also here on a bit of a quest himself. It’s a quest that is solely to leave his mark in the SWF to create a legacy he can be proud of. A bit selfish if you ask me-”

 

“Which nobody *is* asking,” the Gambling Man interjects with a slight snarl. “Why is it so selfish for Bloodshed to want to create a legacy for himself? I mean, come on now, if you’re not here to leave your mark in the SWF than why the hell would you come here?”

 

“Well there is a way you go about things, King, and Leaving a path of broken, bloodied bodies on your journey to self greatness just doesn’t seem right to me,” The Franchise says with an obvious hint of annoyance detected in his voice.

 

At ringside, Grendel jabs the bladed side of his signature fork into one of the mats covering the concrete floor, leaving the weapon in a vertical position. This is where Hunter Rose will leave his weapon until either deemed necessary inside the ring or until victory has been accomplished. He slides into the ring, under the bottom rope, and then heads to the turnbuckle, climbing up to hold out the Cruiserweight Championship belt to the crowd!

 

“And his opponent…” Funyon continues his introductions when ‘Bring me To Life’ fades away. There is no music, however, to fill the void of dead air. What we get is complete and total darkness until a single, solitary spotlight shines down on the ring, bathing the canvas in a red hue-

 

“AND THERE’S BLOODSHED!” Mak shouts after the Apostle is revealed in the lights, and it’s on! Bloodshed races towards Grendel, wildly swinging his fists-

 

*CRACK!*

*CRACK!*

 

DING DING DING!!

 

“A plan devised beforehand by the Apostle to catch this rookie by surprise and catch him hard has gone off without a hitch,” notes King as the two shots land directly in Hunter Rose’s jaw, nearly rocking his head clean off his shoulders! “Grendel barely had time to hop down from the turnbuckles when Bloodshed swarmed in!”

 

“I’ll say! I don’t think Grendel even realizes he’s still holding the Cruiserweight Championship belt,” Francis adds, and Rose stumbles backwards, right into the ropes. His momentum pushes him back off the ropes and he dazedly moves forward, reluctantly walking right back into Bloodshed. Hunter Rose’s reaction time is a little bit off having been dealt two hard hits to the skull. However, he sees Bloodshed leap up and extend both legs out. All he can do is try to bring his hands up to shield his face…which means the gold plate of the Cruiserweight Belt is dangling in front of his face-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-and Bloodshed, though by no intention of his own, kicks the gold plate of the belt into Grendel’s face. As expected, Rose drops like a stone in front of the referee, who just barely had the time to turn back towards the ring after signaling for the bell…before turning towards the timekeeper again, this time to call for an end.

 

DING DING DING!!

 

“What the hell!?” the Suicide King exclaims. “Why did the referee just have the bell rung again?”

 

“I think it might have something to do with Bloodshed drop kicking the Cruiserweight Championship into Grendel’s face,” Francis responds.

 

“It wasn’t Bloodshed’s fault! If Grendel wasn’t trying to hit him with the damn thing then it would have never got flung back into his face!”

 

“Perhaps,” Mak calmly says, “if Bloodshed would have allowed his opponent to simply hand the belt over to the referee before running out and viciously attacking Grendel like some sort of wild dog…then this wouldn’t have happened! Let’s get the official word from Funyon.”

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcers hollers. “Your winner of this bout as of a result of a disqualification…GRENDEL!”

 

“Bullshit!” shouts King, angrily waving his hand. Bloodshed himself is rather pissed but then heads out of the ring, deciding not to grace this crowd with his presence with this kind of treacherous calls being made.

 

“And there you have it,” the Franchise says. “Grendel wins, though I speculate he would have won anyway had this match rode out to it’s full potential. We’ll be back after this word from our sponsor!”

Edited May 9, 2006 by chirs3

[chirs3 0]

Smarkdown fades in after a commercial to reveal Austin Sly in the 'backstage' tent, eating a ham and cheese and sand sandwich (It's Baghdad and he's in a tent. Everything has sand in it).

 

Ka-boom!

 

An explosion erupts just outside the tent, startling the Missouri-native. Sly drops his sandwich, and perhaps going against better judgement is about to envoke the ten-second rule, but an enormous camel spider rushes forward, brandishing a knife.

 

"Ees mine. I cut you," the arachnid states.

 

"Why do you have a Hispanic accent? More importantly, how can you speak at all?" Austin wonders.

 

Before Sly can get any answers, Rage Against the Machine's cover of "Street Fighting Man" blares over the speakers, reminding Austin that he's got a match.

 

"Oh, yeah, the match!" Sly exclaims.

 

See? Anyway, Austin brushes open the flap and into the scorching heat.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, the following is a 'Sixth Engineers' Sweep and Clear match! The wrestler that deactivates the most 'bombs' within the fifteen minute time limit shall be declared the winner! Introducing first, from Saint Louis, Missouri, he weighs two hundred, twenty pounds, AUUSSSTIN SSSLYYY!" Funyon shouts.

 

Austin slaps hands with people in the front row, shrugs off his trench coat, and slides inside the ring.

 

"Uh, why exactly are we starting this match in the ring? This is basically a glorified Hide and Seek match, so shouldn't they just be let loose?" King asks.

 

"Well, maybe it's to prevent either man from having an unfair advantage. I mean, otherwise, Doom could be scouting out bomb locations right now," Mak offers.

 

Zach de la Rocha's voice suddenly cuts off mid-verse, and a dozen druids march out before promptly succuming to heat exhaustion and passing out. Boots Randolph's "Yakety Sax" starts up, and Jimmy the Doom and Lois the Unethical walk out from a different tent, the Straight-Bread Sensation holding something that looks to be half leaf blower and half t-shirt gun. Doom points it at the crowd, panning around to find the most deserving fan. Jimmy tilts his cannon up and fires, sending a cloud of yellow into the air.

 

"What the hell was that?" Mak asks.

 

"Jesus Christ. That idiot just shot creamed corn into the audience," King mutters.

 

Fist raised triumphantly in the air, Jimmy drops his gun and heads to the ring.

 

"And his opponent, from Doomopolis, Doomtopia, he weighs two hundred, thirty pounds, being accompanied by Lois the Unethical, the Straight-Bread Sensation, JIIIMMEEE THE DOOOM!" Funyon exclaims.

 

Doom scrambles inside the ring to find Funyon holding two bicycle helmets with three-foot long antennas attached. Funyon motions Sly and Jimmy in close and hands each man a helmet.

 

"These helmets are equipped with a camera, and the antenna will allow the feed to be broadcast on the SmarkTron, or something. I was hammered when they explained this to me, so let's just say it's magic."

 

Doom and Austin strap their helmets on, Funyon exits the ring, and with no referee needed, the bell is rung.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 15:00

Jimmy the Doom - 0

Austin Sly - 0

Bombs Left - 25

=====

 

Jimmy punches Sly in the face and races out of the ring. Doom takes a peek under the ring and pulls out the first bomb. The Straight-Breader flips open the panel, revealing a tangled web of circuitry and wires. Jimmy simply stares, wondering how he'll deactivate the thing, when Austin leaps from the ring apron and onto Jimmy's head, driving the Doomtopian's face into the bomb.

 

EMBOUCHURE!

 

Tsssst!

 

"And the first bomb has been set off! That was a nice double stomp from Austin Sly to stop Jimmy the Doom from getting an early lead," Mak states.

 

"I'm not sure if Sly was planning on causing the bomb to go off, but I doubt he's complaining about it," King replies.

 

=====

Time Remaining - 14:53

Jimmy the Doom - 0

Austin Sly - 0

Bombs Left - 24

=====

 

Sly charges down the road while Doom wipes the Gak out of his eyes. Jimmy takes off the other way, and the SmarkTron goes to a split screen, showing Austin racing down Yafa Street, and the Doomtopian heading east on Martin Luther King Boulevard (Yes, there's one in Baghdad, too) towards the Presidential Palace.

 

Sly spies with his little eye a bomb wedged in the rubble of a collapsed building. Austin yanks the metal cylinder out, cracks open a panel, and pulls out a black wire.

 

Bweee-ooop

 

=====

Time Remaining - 14:10

Jimmy the Doom - 0

Austin Sly - 1

Bombs Left - 23

=====

 

"And that's the first deactivated bomb!" Mak exclaims. "Sly has the lead, but there's still plenty of time and bombs left, so it's anybody's match to win."

 

"Sure as hell is, Mak! Well, not anybody's. Just Doom or Sly, as they're the only people legally in the match. So it's two people's match to win," King replies.

 

Doom continues to race down MLK, but doesn't spot the bomb in the middle of the road. He flies over it, turns around, and scrambles back. Jimmy opens the bomb, but Gak instantly begins leaking.

 

=====

Time Remaining - 14:00

Jimmy the Doom - 0

Austin Sly - 1

Bombs Left - 22

=====

 

"Wow. Those things are very sensitive. It doesn't take much to set one off," Mak says.

 

"Holy crap! Did you just end a sentence with a preposition?" King queries.

 

"Well, uh...maybe," the Franchise mumbles.

 

"You son of a bitch," King spits back.

 

Sly hangs a left, unknowingly heading towards Doom. Austin nears the Ministry of Industry building, but gets dropped by a roundhouse to the skull.

 

CHIFFONIER!

 

Austin gets hauled back to his feet, is placed in a front facelock, then the assailant spins around and falls to the ground, snapping Sly's neck off his shoulder.

 

"Oh my God! Was that...is that..." Mak stammers, awestruck.

 

"Neilsen McTwist? Neilsen of the Jungle and Jamie Drazon? Yes to both," King says, barely audible.

 

"I knew they had joined the military, but I never knew they were both in Iraq. Or stationed in the exact same area," Francis mumbles.

 

The damage done, Neilsen and Jay Dawg leave Sly to get drunk and have sex with some of the few remaining prostitutes left in Baghdad.

 

Jimmy the Doom, on the other hand, is perfectly fine (Other than some Gak stuck in his beard) and on track to the Presidential Palace. Doom reaches the palace and notices a bomb flush against the side of the building. The Straight-Bread Sensation pokes at the bomb with a stick, and Gak seeps out.

 

"The way things look, Sly will win this match with only one bomb disarmed, because Doom keeps setting them off!" Francis shouts.

 

"You rotten bastard! You ended another sentence with a preposition!" King shrieks and punches Mak in the arm. Which, of course, has no effect, as Mak is paralyzed from the neck down. But you knew that.

 

=====

Time Remaining - 12:03

Jimmy the Doom - 0

Austin Sly - 1

Bombs Left - 21

=====

 

Sly finally recovers from the brutality that is the Neilsen McTwist and gets up. Austin keeps on towards Jimmy, though neither man knows it.

 

Doom kicks the bomb and turns around, heading towards the ring. Jimmy ducks down an alley, leaps up, and grabs hold of a window sill. The Straight-Breader hauls himself up, jumps towards the opposite building, and continues in this way to the roof. The Doomtopian is rewarded with a bomb sitting on top of an exhaust fan. Jimmy opens it up, gently grabs a red wire and tugs, but doesn't sever the connection. Doom wipes his brow, licks the outside of the explosive and pulls out every wire except the red one.

 

Deedle-eee-dee-doo-dee!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 10:49

Jimmy the Doom - 1

Austin Sly - 1

Bombs Left - 20

=====

 

"And Doom ties this match up! He certainly was lucky there, as I thought he wouldn't be able to deactivate a single bomb," Mak says.

 

"Well, he is a stupid foreigner," King offers.

 

"That was a nice bit of free-walking by Doom to get up there," Francis notes.

 

"Bet you wish you could do any kind of walking," the Suicide King replies.

 

Jimmy races along the rooftops, leaping when necessary, with more than a few close calls. Of course, it's hard to tell how exciting they are from a first person perspective, but Doom's occassional grunts are good indicators.

 

"Aaah!

 

BIVOUAC!

 

Of course, screaming about missing the next roof completely and falling is much easier to identify. However, Jimmy's Doomtopian constitution allows him to roll over, put his vital organs back inside, and climb to his feet. The Straight-Bread Sensation stumbles out of the alley and heads down the road, still towards the ring.

 

Austin takes a detour around a block that is currently exploding, and ends up on a street perpendicular to Doom's. Not that either man, the crowd, television audience, or the Suicide King and Mak Francis know it. The two unwittingly converge on an intersection, and collide, both going down in a tangled heap of flesh.

 

SANGUINARY!

 

"What a collision! With everything tied at one a piece, the tide could swing to either man's favor very easily," Mak says.

 

"Considering Doom can barely deactivate a bomb, I'll go with Sly to win," King replies.

 

Doom climbs up to his feet and sprints down the road, on a beeline for the National Parliament building.

 

"Well, Doom's up first, so I think he's got the advantage," Francis points out.

 

"True, but Sly is a lot faster, so he could make up the ground with no problem. Also: He knows how to disarm these bombs," King notes.

 

"He's only disarmed one so far," Mak states.

 

"Details, details, details," King shoots back and smacks the Franchise in the head.

 

Sly clambers up, sees Jimmy receding into the distance, and gives chase. The Doomtopian spots a bomb, rips it open, and pulls out all of the wires.

 

Weedley-wee!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 6:31

Jimmy the Doom - 2

Austin Sly - 1

Bombs Left - 19

=====

 

Jimmy stands up, but gets knocked flat with a dropkick by Sly. Austin zooms past the Straight-Bread Sensation, takes a sharp right turn, and nearly trips over a bomb. Sly flips open a panel and yanks out a yellow wire.

 

Tssst!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 5:54

Jimmy the Doom - 2

Austin Sly - 1

Bombs Left - 18

=====

 

"So Austin Sly knows how to disarm the bombs?" Mak asks.

 

"Shut up, Mak," King grumbles.

 

The Doomtopian catches up with Sly, and Austin hurls the bomb casing at Jimmy, cracking him in the face.

 

HELIOTROPE!

 

Sly rushes past Doom and heads back towards the ring. Austin leaps on a pile of rubble and slides down on a huge chunk of concrete. Despite it not really being physically possible, Sly continues to slide down the street on his slab, but he has no steering, so he crashes into a bomb.

 

=====

Time Remaining - 5:01

Jimmy the Doom - 2

Austin Sly - 1

Bombs Left - 17

=====

 

"Things are not looking good for Austin Sly. He seems to be getting desperate and making mistakes," Francis says.

 

"He'll compose himself and win," King replies.

 

"Why do you want him to win? I was under the impression you didn't like either," Mak points out.

 

"I stand to make more money if Sly wins," King explains.

 

Austin climbs off his ride and sets off, but Gak covers the ground, and he slips. Jimmy motors past, sees a bomb, but instead of trying to deactivate it, the Doomtopian simply punts it.

 

=====

Time Remaining - 4:37

Jimmy the Doom - 2

Austin Sly - 1

Bombs Left - 16

=====

 

"What the hell?!" Mak exclaims.

 

"Smart move from Doom. Wait, did I just say that?" King asks.

 

"How is it smart to destroy a bomb instead of increasing your lead?"

 

"Well, it's one less bomb that Austin Sly can try to disarm," King points out.

 

Austin speeds after Doom, catches up to him, and shoves the Straight-Bread Sensation into a wall. Sly stops, spins around, and dives for a bomb. Austin cracks it open and yanks out a pair of blue wires.

 

Bee-boo-weee-ooo-deee!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 4:00

Jimmy the Doom - 2

Austin Sly - 2

Bombs Left - 15

=====

 

"It's tied up again! Not too much time left, though," Mak says.

 

"I'm telling you, Sly to win, and I'll cash in big time," King replies.

 

The Doomtopian composes himself and chases after Sly. Austin scoops up a bomb and tosses it back towards Jimmy, smacking him in the stomach.

 

=====

Time Remaining - 3:35

Jimmy the Doom - 2

Austin Sly - 2

Bombs Left - 14

=====

 

Austin spies another bomb, drops to his knees and pulls out a black wire.

 

Tweee-weee-weee-eeee!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 3:02

Jimmy the Doom - 2

Austin Sly - 3

Bombs Left - 13

=====

 

"And another bomb for Sly to take the lead! Jimmy the Doom needs to pick up the pace if he wants to win," Mak states.

 

"I really doubt Doom will manage to tie this match, let alone take the lead," King replies.

 

Sly holds the wire above his head triumphantly, but he instantly regrets this act, as Jimmy flies in with a snap kick to the face.

 

IMPONDERABLE!

 

The Straight-Bread Sensation runs past the dazed Sly and Jimmy sees another bomb.

 

"Jesus, who distributed these things?" Mak asks.

 

"Some guy in a union, probably," King grumbles.

 

"Fuckin' lazy union bastards," the Franchise mutters.

 

The Doomtopian strips out all of the wires and is quickly up on his feet.

 

Woo-oooo-woo-oooo!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 2:10

Jimmy the Doom - 3

Austin Sly - 3

Bombs Left - 12

=====

 

"Hey, King, Jimmy the Doom just tied this match up," Mak points out.

 

"Screw you, Francis."

 

Sly manages to catch back up with the Straight-Breader, pulls ahead, and picks a bomb off the ground. Austin twirls around and smashes it into Jimmy's head.

 

MIGONETTE!

 

Doo-do-doo-do-doo-do-doo-do!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 1:43

Jimmy the Doom - 3.5

Austin Sly - 3.5

Bombs Left - 11

=====

 

"What the hell? They both get credit?" Mak wonders.

 

"I'm more curious that it didn't detonate," King mumbles.

 

"That too."

 

Sly speeds off, but Doom is hot on his heels. Austin stops to try and detonate a bomb, but after pulling a mauve wire, gets sprayed with Gak.

 

Tsssst!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 1:21

Jimmy the Doom - 3.5

Austin Sly - 3.5

Bombs Left - 10

=====

 

Sly pulls the sticky green goop from his face, but in doing so, Jimmy passes him and finds a bomb of his own. Doom opens it, removes a black and white checkered wire, and keeps on running.

 

Boo-wooo-woooop!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 1:02

Jimmy the Doom - 4.5

Austin Sly - 3.5

Bombs Left - 9

=====

 

"Not much time left," Mak points out.

 

"Sly still has time," King says.

 

Jimmy eyes another bomb, rushes up, and stomps on it, causing Gak to leak out everywhere.

 

=====

Time Remaining - 0:50

Jimmy the Doom - 4.5

Austin Sly - 3.5

Bombs Left - 8

=====

 

"If Doom keeps this up, Austin Sly won't be able to catch up because there won't be any more bombs left!" the Franchise exclaims.

 

"That dirty, cheating whore!" King yells.

 

Austin notices a bomb Doom happened to pass over, and Sly cracks it open. He yanks out every wire and chases after the Doomtopian.

 

Diddle-widdle-diddle-widdle!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 0:34

Jimmy the Doom - 4.5

Austin Sly - 4.5

Bombs Left - 7

=====

 

The Straight-Bread Sensation hurls a chunk of cement at Sly, missing him, but causing Austin to stumble and kick a nearby bomb.

 

=====

Time Remaining - 0:28

Jimmy the Doom - 4.5

Austin Sly - 4.5

Bombs Left - 6

=====

 

"Man, we should have gotten some tougher bombs," Mak laments.

 

"Oh, you mean the bombs that can get smacked with a hammer a few dozen times and not go off, or the ones you can drop Oprah on with no ill effects?" King inquires.

 

"Do not go against Oprah. It's suicide," Francis mutters.

 

Jimmy dives towards a bomb and slides a few feet on concrete, broken glass, and other unsavory things. Doom flips open a lid, rips out all of the wires with his teeth, and eats them.

 

Bloodle-ooodle-woodle!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 0:20

Jimmy the Doom - 5.5

Austin Sly - 4.5

Bombs Left - 5

=====

 

Austin scoops up a bomb, opens it up, and snaps a red wire.

 

Tsssst!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 0:16

Jimmy the Doom - 5.5

Austin Sly - 4.5

Bombs Left - 4

=====

 

"It's getting right down to the wire. Get it? Wire?"

 

"Ugh. I wish you had feeling in your legs so I could stab pencils in them," King mutters.

 

Doom crawls forward, sees a bomb lodged in a fissure, and delivers a mighty headbutt.

 

=====

Time Remaining - 0:12

Jimmy the Doom - 5.5

Austin Sly - 4.5

Bombs Left - 3

=====

 

"I wonder if Doom knows he's ahead, or if he's just insane," King says.

 

"Maybe they have earpieces telling them what the score is, the number of bombs left, and the time remaining," Francis offers.

 

Austin spots a bomb, dives, yanks out a green wire, and keeps on running.

 

Bleep-bloop-bloop-bleep!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 0:08

Jimmy the Doom - 5.5

Austin Sly - 5.5

Bombs Left - 2

=====

 

"Hey, what happens if there is a tie?" Mak asks.

 

"People get pissed off," King explains.

 

"Holy crap! You just ended a sentence with a preposition!" Francis screams.

 

"Nobody's perfect, Mak, not even me. Sure, I come damn close, but minor mistakes do occur in my life, hard as it is to believe. In other words, shut up."

 

Doom snatches out, grabs a bomb, and removes two white wires, a yellow one, and six taupe wires.

 

Bloorp-bloorp-bloorp!

 

=====

Time Remaining - 0:04

Jimmy the Doom - 6.5

Austin Sly - 5.5

Bombs Left - 1

=====

 

"It comes down to the last bomb, and there are about four seconds left, so Austin Sly better pray it's nearby," Francis says.

 

Sly is in luck, as he scoops up the bomb and opens it. It speaks!

 

As I was going to St. Ives,

I met a man with seven wives,

Every wife had seven sacks,

Every sack had seven cats,

Every cat had seven kittens.

Kittens, cats, sacks wives,

How many were going to St. Ives?

 

"What the hell is this crap?!" Sly yells.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

"Time's up!" Mak shouts.

 

"Damn it," King mumbles.

 

"The winner of this match, at a score of six-point-five to five-point-five, JJIMMMEEE THE DOOOOM!" Funyon shouts.

 

Doom notices he's less than half a block from the ring and races to meet back up with Lois. The two head into a tent as Smarkdown star wipes to commercial.

Edited May 9, 2006 by chirs3

[chirs3 0]

SWF Smarkdown comes back from commercial with a bang, the cameras going right into a wide shot of the jam packed temporary ring area, specially constructed for the show in the sweltering heat of Baghdad. A swarming mass of GI’s create a sea of sandy uniform fatigues buzzing with excitement as the show continues, packing the ring area to its limit and sitting up high on specially constructed bleachers as the show continues. The camera cuts to a sweeping view taking in the happy faces of the crowd and a few waving signs as the military marks eagerly await the next match of the show. The cameras finally cut back to the announcer’s table revealing The Franchise himself and his ever cynical partner The Suicide King, ready as always to call the action.

“Good evening everyone and welcome back to SWF SMARKDOWN! It’s been a great show so far and it’s fixing to get even better!” Cries Mak enthusiastically.

 

“Yes indeed, and it’ll be even better once we get out of this damn heat. I ordered Ben Hardy to get me some water forty minutes ago Mak. And where is that scrawny runt?” King states flatly, lounging back in his chair and looking thoroughly bored as he waits for the next match to start.

 

“Probably being conscripted as we speak King! But you do everyone else on our roster an injustice focusing on Ben Hardy after what we’ve seen today!”

 

“Indeed I do Mak, so I shall partially retract that last statement as I’m eagerly awaiting the soon to be deceased Aecas to make his way to the ring.” King sneers.

 

“Deceased? He only just returned it’s a little to early to roll over and die!” Mak replies confidently.

 

“And today he’ll get beaten to a pulp Mak. He got lucky against Manson last time, after Long discounted a blatant low blow Mak, and everyone here knows that.” King says with a smirk.

 

“And how many years has it been since any referee eve-“

 

“That’s not the point Mak! He got lucky and tonight Sean Davis is going to make sure that lucky streak and his return as a whole come to an abrupt end!”

 

“Well that remains to be seen.” Mak says evenly before smiling cheerfully at the camera to counter his sour apple of a broadcast partner. “And the show won’t stop here; still to come is our Main Event, a Lucha Libre Trios match! Something we’ve not had the pleasure of seeing in the SWF for quite some time.”

 

“And of course the winning team will earn the pleasure of competing in a Fatal Four Way to try and take Grendel’s title away from him. Even if they win the match they still lose in the long run. I love it Mak.” King says with typical malicious glee, though he refrains from rubbing his hands together as the Franchise gives his partner a sidelong look.

 

Before Mak can reply however a funeral bell begins to toll throughout the makeshift ring area, the fans quickly coming back to their feet as thick plumes of white smoke start to boil up around the entranceway and those familiar voices are head once more.

 

“Are you scared?”

 

“He’s here…..”

 

Amon Amarth’s “Death in Fire” roars out of the arena speakers, competing with the crowd in terms of sheer volume as the Black Angel appears in the midst of the smoke, he stands there wreathed in that white haze before slowly raising his right arm, a long staff held securely in his hand. The fans pop even louder as with the barest flick of a finger a huge scythe blade snaps out from the top of the staff and the cheers simply get louder as he raises his other hand carrying none other than Reggie with him to the ring for this special occasion.

 

“Uh oh! Looks like he found what he was looking for when he arrived on Lockdown!” Mak quips as he sees the Scythe once more back in the giant’s possession.

 

“Forget that toothpick Mak, why is he still carrying a plant around with him? I had entertained hopes that the damn thing expired while he was touring Japan!”

 

“I wouldn’t say that too loud if I were you King.” Mak says quietly as both men watch Aecas striding down the aisle, arms raised with their respective burdens, that same, strange smile still on his face for the moment as the fans lining the aisle start a few “Reggie” chants that spread through the crowd and just make the Black Angel thrust the plant in question all the higher into the air for their pleasure.

 

Finally arriving at ringside, Aecas walks slowly around the ring, taking his time as he moves towards the announcers table. The scythe blade retracts into the staff before he hands it to the Timekeeper, whose arms sag slightly under the weight before he grins in a worryingly toothy manner at Mak and King before placing Reggie squarely on the table between them and turning to slide into the ring.

 

“Looks like we’ve got a guest on commentary today King.” Mak says, seeing the funny side of things.

 

“Oh please! What’s he going to say? More sun, less shade I need a drink here?!”

 

“Well those are the same complaints you’ve been making for most of the show.” Mak says with a certain air of smugness.

 

As the Suicide King stews on that one Funyon finally raises his microphone as Aecas starts to pace restlessly about one corner of the ring, his previous humour fading away slowly with the music until his face returns to an impassive state once more.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall! In the ring at this time, from Shrewsbury, England. Weighing 315lbs, the Black Angel. AECAS!”

 

The fans pop hugely once again, and a quick camera shot catches the ghost of a smile reappear on Aecas’ face before it fades as quickly as it came. The elation of the fans soon turns to hatred however as the ominous rumbling of thunder begins to sound around the arena, coupled with the shrieking of an air raid siren as Otep’s “Battle Ready” hits the speakers. Several white pyros flash down from the supports and strike the entranceway as a thunderclap booms from the speakers, more pyros blasting up from around the entry way, red and gold streaming in the heated air as Battle Ready reaches a crescendo and Sean Davis steps out from behind the curtain.

 

“Now here’s a man you can get behind Mak!”

 

“I think behind him might be the safest place to be King, most people that stand in his way don’t do so for long.”

 

Davis ignores the torrent of abuse that the GI’s heap upon him, giving them no more than a smirk and a middle finger when the inevitable taunts and chants start to reach his ears, but his face remains otherwise set, a look of quiet determination on his face, almost matching that of his opponent.

 

“And his opponent! Hailing from Jacksonville, Florida and weighing in at 285lbs. He is the “Perfect Storm!” SEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVIS!”

 

Funyon speaks his piece and quickly exits the ring as Davis reaches the stairs and ascends them to the apron. He pauses for a moment as he watches Aecas pacing about the ring like a caged lion before stepping smoothly between the ropes and into the ring, running through a few quick stretches as referee Eddy Long moves to the centre of the squared circle. Aecas finally stops pacing and faces his opponent squarely; gazes locking tightly on one another as Long checks the position of both men and then signals to the Timekeeper to start the match.

 

 

DING! DING! DING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

The fans come alive once more as the two men move towards one another slowly, eyeing one another up for the briefest of moments before they slam straight into a collar and elbow tie up. Both men strain against one another, Davis has the power advantage but Aecas’ height and weight do well to counteract it and for long moments both men strain against the other with no discernable result. Finally it’s Aecas who breaks the hold, wrapping one huge arm around Sean’s head, as he locks in a tight Side Headlock on his opponent, cranking it in tight as he begins to exert more pressure on Davis’ neck.

 

Sean reacts quickly however, backing Aecas into the ropes and using all his impressive strength to shoot the giant off to the far side of the ring, the ring ropes bend heavily as the Black Angel rebounds off of them and uses the extra momentum to run full tilt at the Perfect Storm. Davis ducks underneath a Yakuza Kick attempt, whipping around to face the giant as he hits the ropes a second time and flooring the Black Angel with a solid clothesline that instantly drags another round of boos from the fans.

 

Aecas is quick to get back to his feet, but Davis is on his feet and faster, pouncing on his opponent from behind and latching his arms around the Black Angel’s middle in a solid waistlock. Aecas is quick to counter this latest threat however, snapping a brace of elbows back into Sean’s face before he reaches back, both hands coming up to lock onto the head of the Perfect Storm, hauling him down over his broad right shoulder as he drops down to one knee and smashes Davis’ face into his knee with a swift Coconut Crush. Davis is quickly back up to his feet bulling towards his opponent and running straight into a solid forearm shot that rocks him back on his heels.

 

Undaunted the Perfect Storm slams a savage punch into the face of his opponent, sending the giant reeling himself, a brief look of surprise crosses Aecas face at the sheer power in the blow before he fires back with a Kesa-Giri Chop right to the throat of Sean Davis.

 

“Wow! I think Aecas may be underestimating just who he’s in the ring with King.” Mak ponders as Davis winces in pain before firing another punch into the head of the Black Angel, followed by another, and another, driving his opponent back into the ropes.

 

“No doubt. The last person he faced with this kind of pound for pound strength was Dace Night!” King concurs as Davis grabs one of the giant’s huge arms and whips him with near effortless ease across the ring once more.

 

Aecas thunders across the ring once more, the ropes practically begging for mercy as he rebounds off of them once more running straight into Sean Davis and a huge Spinebuster, the Perfect Storm scooping up his giant opponent like he were a Cruiserweight and slamming him down to the mat, driving his shoulder into the giant’s chest for additional impact. As the initial impact quickly fades Davis shifts position, grabbing a leg and leaning back on Aecas’ chest.

 

“And Davis is going straight for the pinfall! No flies on him!” Mak says as Long quickly drops down to his belly to make the count.

 

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

T-KICKOUT!!!!!

 

Long’s hand doesn’t even reach the canvas as Aecas physically throws Sean Davis’ off of him, sending his powerful opponent tumbling away as he quickly starts to get back to his feet, squaring off against Davis a second time as the Perfect Storm regains his footing.

 

“Way too early for a three, but Davis just let Aecas know how easily he can put him shoulders down on the mat. That’ll give the botanist something to think about.” King says with a sneer as the two men circle one another for a moment before slamming back into another collar and elbow tie up. This time the two bulls lock horns for only a brief moment as Davis quickly breaks the tie up and hammers another hard punch into Aecas’ face, rocking the giant back yet again.

 

Another solid punch follows before Aecas blocks a third, the fans coming alive as the Black Angel’s right arm snaps forwards, slamming forearm after forearm into the implacable head of Sean Davis stubbornly driving him backwards this time. Davis won’t go quietly though and manages to fire off another hard punch which earns him a pair of savage Kesa-Giri’s to the throat. And THAT is enough to make the Perfect Storm back off for a moment, one hand clutching at his neck as Aecas sends him stumbling back into a corner with one final forearm to the right side of his head.

 

“Aecas comes out the top on that exchange, but I have to question if standing toe to toe with Sean Davis is a smart move.” The Franchise ponders as Aecas grabs an arm and Irish Whips Davis across the ring, the impact making the entire structure shudder.

 

“Of course it isn’t Mak. But he’s got one thing going for him and that’s those chops!” King cries out as Aecas charges across the ring full tilt and buries his right shoulder into Sean Davis’ guts, slamming the Perfect Storm into the corner and doubling him over as the fans roar with approval.

 

“GORE! Gore into the corner!” Screams the Franchise as the Black Angel slowly pulls back, grabbing Davis by the head and pulling his momentarily limp form down to the canvas, covering his opponent and hooking a leg.

 

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

T-KICKOUT!!!!!

 

 

This time its Sean Davis with the powerful kickout, thrusting Aecas off of him before Long can smack the canvas for two, both men getting to their feet once more though even Davis’ iron constitution is slowed by the huge spear in the corner, the Perfect Storm clutching at his midsection as he slowly rises, allowing the Black Angel take the lead once more.

 

“And Aecas just used Davis’ own argument against him King. He can put him down just as easily.” Mak says as Aecas shoves Sean’s head between his legs, pointing at the turnbuckles while riles the crowd up once more before he leans down and wraps those large arms around the Perfect Storms waist.

 

“Aecas perhaps looking for a Turnbuckle Powerbomb...” Mak continues as Aecas heaves at his opponent. But Sean Davis doesn’t budge, the reason for that quickly becomes apparent as he has the giant’s legs in a death grip, resisting a second attempt by Aecas to lift him up once more, his huge strength once more his greatest asset as he slowly starts to straighten up, keeping that firm hold on the Black Angel’s legs and taking him off his feet as he struggles.

 

“Oh no he isn’t Mak!” The Suicide King crows with delight as Aecas starts to smash his elbow into Sean’s kidneys, trying to escape his precarious position. Unfortunately for the Black Angel it’s already too late as Davis straightens up fully, Aecas’ long legs held out taut in front of him before he yanks down on them hard and plants the Black Angel squarely onto the mat with another Spinebuster.

 

“Alabama Slam!” Mak states decisively as the fans quickly switch from cheers to boos once more. Sean Davis bends down and grabs Aecas by his long hair, roughly dragging the giant back up to his feet before he wraps his own massive arms around the Black Angel’s torso, arching back and locking in a tight Bear Hug as the boos of the fans quickly become deafening.

 

“And now Sean Davis breaks out the Bear Hug! A lot of people underestimate this move King but it’ll crush the air from your lungs and put a lot of pressure on the spine!”

 

“Damn right it will Mak, we’ve both felt the pinch of a Bear Hug in our careers but look at the sheer strength of Sean Davis! That’s 315 pounds he’s hoisting! Aecas’ feet aren’t even touching the mat!”

 

And for once the Suicide King speaks the honest truth as the tips of Aecas’ boots dangle half an inch above the surface of the mat, a grimace stamped across the normally impassive face of the giant as Davis tightens his crushing grip. The Black Angel grabs the back of Sean’s head with one hand, anger slowly etching its way onto his face as he slams another huge forearm into the head of his opponent. Davis’ jerks slightly but responds with a snarl of his own and simply cranks in the hold a little more making the Black Angel’s back arch sharply as more pressure is applied.

 

“Not a smart move Mak, we’ve seen Davis take shots to the head when he has this locked on and all it does is encourage him!”

 

“Then Aecas had better think fast King, the longer that hold is on the less chance he has to win this thing!”

 

Aecas stubbornly slams another forearm into Davis’ head with the same result, the thunderous booing of the fans continuous as Aecas struggles to free himself, snarling a “No!” at Eddy Long as he is asked if he wants to give up. Finally the Black Angel lifts both hands as high as he can get them before sending them crashing down into the Perfect Storm’s trapezoid muscles with a Mongolian Chop. Davis jerks from the impact and encouraged Aecas raises his arms and slams the blades of his hands into the thick neck muscles once again, this time feeling the hold definitely loosen despite Sean’s best attempts to tighten it up once more.

 

“Big chops to the neck! I don’t think Davis was expecting that!” Mak hoots as Aecas raises his arms one last time and sends them crashing down for a third strike. This time it works as Davis breaks the hold, the Perfect Storm grimacing from the additional pain in his neck as Aecas sags slightly when his feet hit the canvas once again. The Black Angel still has his wits about him however and slams another hard forearm into the side of Davis’ head, sending the Perfect Storm reeling once more, back into the ropes.

 

Sean comes off the ropes as best he can but he’s off balance and lumbering more than anything else, Aecas is quick to meet his opponent, wrapping his right arm tightly around the Perfect Storms throat and slamming a solid punch into the left side of his opponents head. With Sean momentarily stunned he tosses the Perfect Storm’s right arms over his shoulder before grabbing his opponent’s tights with his left hand and wrenching Davis from his feet with sheer brute force, twisting around and dumping him squarely on his head and shoulders to a huge pop from the fans.

 

“Uranage Suplex!” Mak shouts for all the fans at home as Aecas slumps down next to his opponent, one hand pressing firmly against his back, that pained grimace still on his face. “He just knocked Sean Davis silly!”

 

“Maybe he did Mak but the damage has already been done! If I were Aecas, and god forbid I ever end up carrying a plant around with me for company, I’d be looking to end this right now. Pin Davis or slap on a submission while he’s dazed.”

 

And Aecas does just that, ignoring the pain in his back after several long moments he leans over and drapes an arm over the chest of Sean Davis.

 

ONE!!!!!

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

TWO!!!!!

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

THREEEEE-NO-KICKOUT!

 

 

“Too slow Mak! If he hadn’t stopped to worry about his back he might have go three.” The Suicide King says with an underlying tone of satisfaction as Davis rolls over onto his front after kicking out strongly once more. Aecas does his best to keep the pressure on his tough opponent, moving after Davis still on his knees and wrapping his left arm tightly around the head of the Perfect Storm clamping his forearm into Sean’s bruising throat.

 

“Front Facelock applied!” Mak retorts, his voice rising along with the fans as Davis immediately starts to struggle against the increasing pressure around his neck. His hands flail for a moment before grabbing a firm hold on the thick arm trying to crush his head.

 

“Has Aecas been taking pointers from Dace Night again?!” The Suicide King demands as the Perfect Storm struggles but slowly forces himself up to one keep, and then to his feet, Aecas keeping the pressure solidly applied and backing Davis forcibly away from the ropes and into the centre of the ring.

 

Much like Aecas before him Davis can feel his own chances of victory slipping away the longer the hold is in play, his throat already softened up by those vicious Kesa-Giri’s can only hold out for so long. He reacts the only way he knows how, starting to slam punch after punch into the gut of the Black Angel, Aecas jerks under the flurry of blows but takes a page from Davis’ book and guts it out tightening the pressure in response to the strikes.

 

In desperation Sean locks his arms around Aecas’ waist the muscles on his back standing out as he tries to heave the Black Angel off his feet, but the giant hooks a leg around his opponent’s instep and blocks the attempt.

 

“And Aecas is holding on! We saw Dace Night score more than one victory with this move in the past!”

 

“But he was never in the ring with Sean Davis Mak!” King cries out as the Perfect Storm tries to lift Aecas again and this time succeeds, taking the big man up and over onto his back with a desperation Northern Lights Suplex but Aecas simply doesn’t let go, the big man rolling both himself and his opponent over onto their fronts once again and cinching the Facelock even tighter to a roar of approval from the fans.

 

TAP!

 

TAP!

 

TAP!

 

The chants are deafening as Long tries to get an answer out of Sean Davis but the Perfect Storm continues to doggedly hold on, forcing his way slowly back to his feet once more.

 

“Look at the resilience of Sean Davis! He refuses to die!” Mak shouts over the roaring of the crowd as Sean Davis starts to force Aecas backwards, step by painful step. Backing up the Black Angel despite his best efforts and driving him firmly into a corner, Davis grabs the middle rope and clutches it like a lifeline as Long demands Aecas break the hold.

 

“And Sean Davis survives! What did I tell you Mak?! Aecas doesn’t know who he’s dealing with in there!” The Suicide King screeches as Aecas reluctantly breaks the hold, the joyous chanting off the fans dying away and quickly turning to boos as Sean Davis, clutching at his throat suddenly butts his head upwards, cracking Aecas under the chin and staggering away from the corner as the giants hands go to his mouth.

 

“Quick thinking by Sean Davis, he’s bought himself a moment to recover but he’d better spend it wisely.” Mak says gravely as Davis leans on the ropes, one hand on his throat as he tries to get his breath back, keeping an eye on Aecas as the big man shakes his head slowly, still grimacing from the impact of that sudden headbutt that rattled his teeth. Finally the Black Angel’s gaze falls on his opponent once more and seeing him laid up on the ropes comes out of the corner as fast as he can, arm outstretched as he tries to decapitate Davis with a huge lariat.

 

This time however luck isn’t with him as Sean Davis retains enough of his wits to push himself off of the ropes, ducking under that huge arm and hooking it as he moves, stopping the Black Angel’s momentum dead. Sean’s other arm comes up, hooking Aecas’ other arm and pulling them both up into a Full Nelson before he lifts Aecas off his feet once more and sits out into an Atomic Drop.

 

“That wise enough for you Mak?” King says snidely as Aecas grits his teeth after getting his spine jarred but Sean Davis isn’t finished yet, the Perfect Storm still has the Full Nelson locked on tight and starts to push himself back up to his feet, dragging Aecas with him.

 

“Davis sensibly putting more pressure on Aecas’ back...” Mak says, ignoring his partners jibe as the two men reach their feet once more and Davis heaves his giant opponent from his feet yet again, this time throwing him down on his back with a massive Full Nelson Slam. “…and I can’t remember the last time I saw anyone manhandle Aecas like this!”

 

“Not since Dace Night Mak that’s for sure.” King confidently states as Davis drops to his knees and quickly covers his opponent, hooking a leg to be doubly sure.

 

ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

 

TWO AND A HALF!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Aecas shoots a shoulder off the canvas in the nick of time; the GI’s packing the ringside area leaping to their feet as the Black Angel staves off defeat by a whisker. As the fans cheer Davis shouts in uncharacteristic frustration, getting back up to his feet and right into Eddy Long’s face, the Perfect Storm’s normally deep voice hoarse and ragged from the prolonged time he spent in the Front Facelock.

 

“Now this is not a wise move by Sean Davis, as you said about Aecas earlier King he should be looking for another pinfall or a submission. Not jaw-jacking with the referee and giving his opponent time to recover!”

 

“Break his back Sean! You can kill Long when you win the match!” King screams in frustration as the fans jeer at Sean Davis for being unable to secure the victory, finally, perhaps inevitably a chant rings out from some of the experienced fans among the GI’s at ringside.

 

COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON-VICT!

 

COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON-VICT!

 

A slight shudder goes through the huge body of the Perfect Storm, unreasoning rage plastering itself across his face as he throws Long into the corner and stabs a finger at the offending fans, turning the air blue as spittle flies from his ranting mouth.

 

“Uh oh! They’ve done it now!” King cries out gleefully as, unable to lay hands on the fans Sean Davis turns back to the current object of his destructive attentions, still laying on his back as the chants continue, other fans starting to pick it up. Practically foaming at the mouth Davis storms back towards his opponent, fully intent on slapping on the Avalanche and snapping Aecas’ spine in half.

 

He gets as far as Aecas legs before the Black Angel lashes out in one last attempt at stopping his raging opponent. A Drop Toe Hold takes Davis down to the mat, and Aecas dives on top of the raging Perfect Storm as best he can, capturing Davis’ left leg in a toe hold as he tries to keep his opponent down as Sean flails violently back at him. The Black Angel thunders a pair of hard crossface forearms into the bucking head of the Perfect Storm, stunning him just long enough for the big man to grab him by the neck and roll over, dragging Davis with him and applying a throat crushing Rear Naked Choke!

 

“Reverse STF into a choke!” Mak howls as the fans erupt yet again, deafening “TAP!” chants starting up once again as Sean Davis bucks and thrashes like a landed catfish, trying to break the hold as he refuses to submit, practically spitting at Long each time, using all his massive strength but Aecas simply won’t be denied.

 

“No! NO! Dammit Long that’s an illegal choke!” King screeches as the Black Angel’s face twists into a snarl of effort and rage as he uses every ounce of his strength to keep the hold applied, his body between Davis and the ropes cutting off the Perfect Storms air supply as those thrashing’s grow weaker and weaker, and finally stops altogether.

 

Long grabs the right arm of Sean Davis, lifting it up into the air and dropping it.

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

*THUD*

 

Long grabs the arm again as it smacks limply against the canvas, raising and releasing it again.

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

*THUD*

 

The referee takes hold of the arm one final time, lifting it up again as the crowd cheers and the viewers at home hold their breath.

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

 

*THUD*

 

 

DING! DING! DING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“And he’s done it!” Mak cries out as the fans go thermonuclear with their cheering once again, Aecas letting go of Davis’ limp form and slowly rolling his way out of the ring as Funyon raises his mic once more.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of the match, AEEEEEEEEEEEECAS!”

 

Death in Fire hits the speakers once more as Aecas’ feet touch the floor, the Black Angel slowly making his way back to the Timekeepers table, collecting his Scythe and then retrieving Reggie from the announcers table with a tired grin, thrusting the plant into the air for another botanical pop as he starts to make his way slowly to the aisle, still favouring his back.

 

“I can’t believe this Mak. On Lockdown he won with the assistance of a low blow on the corner, and this time he wins with a choke?!”

 

“Why are you so unhappy King? You’ve always been in favour of that kind of activity.”

 

“That’s not the point Mak! It’s the principle of the thing! Why can’t you see that?!”

 

“……anyway…” Mak says after a long moment as the Suicide King fumes silently beside him. “Don’t go away folks we’ll be right back after a few announcements, with a new ring and a Lucha Libre Trios match!”

 

The cameras slowly fade out as Aecas and Reggie make their way to the back and Eddy Long tries to gingerly wake up Sean Davis, not wanting to be the first person the Perfect Storm sees when he comes around.

[chirs3 0]

“WELCOME BACK TO SMARKDOWN! It is now time for the hyped six man tag with multiple number one contenderships on the line!” Mak greets the returning television viewers.

 

“That would be correct, Mak. It’s TEAM RUDO vs. TEAM TECHNICOS!” says the Suicide King. “And when TEAM RUDO wins, JJ Johnson and Spike Jenkins will get a shot at the Cruiserweight Champion, Grendel!”

 

“THIS IS YOUR MAIN EVENT!” booms Funyon. “The rules to this six man tag are as follows: tags can be made by touch or when your partner finds himself out of the ring. This tag match will be wrestled under cruiserweight rules! Any member of any team can be eliminated, but the match can only be won when the captain of the opposing team has been eliminated!”

 

“I’M BORN!”

 

“I’M ALIVE!!”

 

“I BREATHE!!!”

 

…Flash across the SmarkTron that was created due to man labor. Insanely cheering for the Unique Youth, the Baghdad audience screams with delight as the former cruiserweight champion dances out from behind the mysterious black curtain. Sprinting down the ring, Zyon smacks the dirty hands of those in the front row before diving into the ring.

 

“First, hailing from Elkhart, Indiana. Weighing 200 lbs, He is the Unique Youth, ZYON!!!” Funyon announces as the youth skips whatever taunt he had planned as he waits for his two partners and three enemies.

 

“Protect Ya Neck” by the Wu-Tang Clan hits the PA with explosive force as another former cruiserweight champion wonders through the curtain with fame manager, Mr. Kobe! Sauntering down the ring, the two individuals talk strategy…

 

“His partner, accompanied to the ring by Mr. Kobe, hailing from Sendai, Japan. Weighing in at 195 lbs, He is the Divine Wind, AKIRA KAIBATSU!” The foreign warrior rolls into the ring, exiting to the same corner as his partner.

 

“Surprisingly there is not much tension between these two. The Divine Wind has gotten the better of the Unique Youth in two straight matches, back when Zyon held the Cruiserweight Title.”

 

“Yeah and he lost it to Akira. Of course all of that is null and void now that neither has the title.”

 

“Bouncin’ Back” by Mystical thumps through the PA system bringing the people to their feet. Walking through the curtain is the famous Wildchild along with the female manager that hasn’t gotten involved with Landon, Melissa Fasaki. Much like his partner, Wildchild smacks the hands of the shouting fans as he wonders down to the ring.

 

“And their partner and TEAM CAPTAIN! From the Bahamas, and weighing 214 lbs… The WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” Somersaulting acrobatically into the ring between the middle and bottom rope, Wildchild releases his illegal shin guards to the hands of his female manager as he meets with his partners in the corner.

 

“So this is the All-Star team of cruiserweights? Eh I don’t see the big deal.”

 

Mak would dropkick King about now, but…”King, are you serious? All of these men have held the Cruiserweight Title, and Wildchild the team leader, is coming off an International Title reign.”

 

“Oh and who now has that title by the way…”

 

This man does.

 

“I do that rather well...don't you think?”

 

And with that comes the shrieking sounds of Cryptopsy’s “Crown of Horns.” Usually intense lighting and blinding smoke would unleash into the headquarters where the battle is taking place, but the other half of the Tag Team Champions doesn’t roll that way. Thundering through the black curtain and into the foreground is the much hated Raging Bull, Manson. Stalking in the background would then of course be the man dressed in gold, JJ Johnson!

 

“And their opponents, hailing respectively from Denver, Colorado and Windsor, Ontario, Canada. At a combined 473 lbs... They are the SWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS…OF THE WORLD! MANSON and the SWF INTERNATIONAL CHAMPION, J…J…JOHNSON!!!”

 

Funyon inhales in an attempt to regain his lost oxygen as both heels roll into the ring. Manson throws up the Texan horns even though he’s from Colorado while his partner performs a daunting crucifix taunt on the second rope.

 

“So Mak are you excited for the final entry in this match?”

 

“Overjoyed, King,” The Franchise totally deadpans.

 

The scratching sound of vinyl haunts the crowd…

 

“BAM!!”

 

…And that just scares them. “Black Label” by Lamb of God blast over Baghdad, eliciting massive jeering from the audience. Quickly removing his hoodie, due to the immense heat, the Hollywood Superstar stares a hole in his former protégé.

 

“And their partner and TEAM CAPTAIN! Hailing from Hollywood, California. Weighing in at 220 lbs, He is…HOLLYWOOD SPIKE JENKINS!!!”

 

Funyon finishes his outburst of entrances as Spike slides into the ring, tossing the “X” into the air for a quick recognition of his straight edge life style. The enlarged octagonal threshold for the competitors currently holds five cruiserweights and a Manson. The referee takes a moment to organize things, ordering the two teams to decide who will start the match. TEAM TECNICOS begin to talk strategy until they realize that Zyon has little to no clue what Wildchild and Akira are saying, which thus eliminates Zyon from the discussion. Noticing that Akira has a mask, Wildchild respectively steps out letting what could be the only true Luchadore start the match.

 

“Akira Kaibatsu to start the match; he’s talented and is willing to put his body on the line for his team.”

 

On the other side of the ring, TEAM RUDO quickly decides that Manson the Stampede will start.

 

“Well it’s a good thing that Akira is willing to put his body on the line. Since he’s about to be destroyed by the only heavyweight in the match.” King laughs. The two referees in the match (Eddy Long as the pro-Rudo ref, and Red Herrington as the pro-Tecnico ref) argue over who gets to call for the bell until they both do it simultaneously:

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Manson takes a strong step forward, baiting the energetic Divine Wind into charging toward him. Akira runs right into the brick-built heavyweight shoulder-first, and the impact sends the impetuous cruiserweight sprawling to the mat! Picking himself up, Akira listens to his cheering partners along with the chanting fans.

 

“Let’s Go Akira!”

 

Bouncing off the near ropes, the Divine Wind speeds up looking to overwhelm his opponent with another shoulder charge! Manson continues to remain stationary while the foreign wrestler collapses to the mat due to the impact. Zyon and Wildchild both watch on as Akira pulls himself up once again. Adjusting his mask, the Divine Wind lends his ears to his experienced manager…before bouncing off the ropes again!!

 

“King, do you have any idea what Akira is trying to accomplish?”

 

“He’s just making fun of you. He can run, fall, and get back up. You can only sit, HA!” The Gambling Man chuckles.

 

Sprinting forward, Akira notices an enraged look in his opponent’s eyes as the Raging Bull steps up for the challenge. Finished playing the cruiserweight’s little games, Manson attempts to reach around his smaller competitor, but Akira performs a baseball slide under his larger opponent. Popping up from the canvas the former Cruiserweight Champion makes the faulty decision to wrap the Raging Bull in a reverse waist lock! Tensing up, Akira forces himself to lift the Raging Bull an inch off the ground until his body gives in to gravity, setting Manson safely back on the canvas!

 

“CRACK!”

 

Releasing his grip, Akira stumbles backward due to being the victim of a blind elbow to the face. Clutching his mask, the Divine Wind’s eyes grow to the size of a planet as Manson comes roaring into the young warrior with a knee to the gut! Dropping to both knees, the young Divine Wind looks up at the Raging Bull who attempts to drive the point of his elbow into the skull of Akira Kaibatsu! In a motion of panic, Akira throws both hands up, slowing the strike down enough for him to regain his wits.

 

“CRACK!”

 

“Brilliant!” Mak announces, overjoyed as Manson collapses to one knee, due to the Kaibatsu delivering a sharp kick to his opponent’s kneecap. Rolling away from the bitter Manson, Akira pops back to his feet, slamming both feet into the face of the Raging Bull, followed by the lateral press!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWOKICKOUT!

 

Manson powers out of the lateral press, throwing the cruiserweight back to his feet. Sitting up from his ground position, Manson watches the quicker Divine Wind bounce off the ropes! Hurrying to his feet, the larger Raging Bull surprises the young Japanese wrestler with a kick to the sternum. Latching on to Akira’s head and arm, Manson the Stampede hurls Akira across the ring with a HIGH hip toss! Crashing to the mat, Akira instinctively rolls to the nearby turnbuckle…of TEAM RUDO! With the light bulbs going off, Manson distracts referee Red Herrington with threats of MANSONALITY! As if on cue, Spike and JJ Johnson reach around and begins to violently slap the young cruiserweight down!

 

“SMACK!”

 

“SMACK!”

 

“SMACK!”

 

Referee Eddy Long watches on with glee while the two members of TEAM RUDO strike Akira down with overhand chops. Decimated by the strikes, Akira rolls out of the ring just as Manson turns back for his own assault.

 

“CRACK!”

 

“Beautiful springboard missile dropkick by Wildchild who is now the legal man!”

 

“How is that? What just happened? I didn’t see a tag?” King seems to lack the knowledge of Lucha tag matches.

 

After driving both feet into Manson’s spine, Wildchild pops back to his feet and rushes forward until he realizes that Manson is charging back towards him with his arm drawn back! Refusing to allow Manson the opportunity to unleash the Raging Lariat, the Bahama Bomber hops forward with a low dropkick aimed at Manson’s knee! Crashing to the mat face first, Manson takes a moment to shake off the fact that the lightweights are currently getting the better of him.

 

“Wow, King,” Mak gets in quickly before the match starts. “Think about this match for second.”

 

“Why?” King asks sarcastically.

 

Sighing, Mak says, “Well, first you’ve got Spike and Zyon. I think that was an obvious story that jumped out at everyone. But then you also have Spike and Akira. Akira just barely beat Spike in a pure rules match for the Cruiserweight title…the cruiserweight title that he won from Zyon, who he’s teaming with. Zyon won the title from JJ Johnson…who just recently beat Akira…to win the International Title from Wildchild…”

 

“That’s not a good enough reason, Francis.”

 

Manson reaches his feet, and circles the ring with Wildchild. Eventually the two lock up in the center. Manson reaches his arm out for a Greco-roman knuckle lock. WC accepts, and twists Manson’s arm behind his back for a hammerlock. Wildchild then slides his arms up Manson’s back, putting him in a side headlock. Manson struggles to push WC off his head, but WC fights to hold on. Manson then backs up, and bounces off of the rope. He throws Wildchild off him, and throws him into the opposite ropes. WC bounces off, and Manson pulls his arm back for a lariat. Wildchild anticipates it, and does a summersault through Manson’s legs. He carries that momentum through and uses it to get to his feet, and continue running smoothly. Manson turns around as Wildchild hits the ropes, and comes running back. WC then jumps up into the air, and extends a leg, nailing Manson in the face!

 

“Leg Lariat! A Wildchild specialty,” Mak says.

 

“Pfft! If only because the man can’t even bench a pet rock.”

 

“…Can you even say Pet Rock on TV?”

 

“Let’s hope so.”

 

Wildchild turns to his corner, and extends an arm towards Zyon. Zyon slaps Wildchild’s hand, and ascends himself to the turnbuckle. Manson slowly gets up, and Zyon jumps up into the air. He spins around once, and does a backflip, driving his body into Manson’s gut with No Regard!

 

RAHHHHHHH!!!!

 

“Man, if ever there was a team of high flyers, this is it, King.”

 

“I know,” snaps King. “It’s ridiculous! It’s like having 3 Wildchilds…except that one is Japanese and the other is Indian.”

 

“Zyon is from Indiana, King.”

 

“Close enough!”

 

To the surprise of everyone though, Manson rolls backwards with the impact of No Regard. He then extends his legs out, and hurls Zyon back with a monkey flip!

 

Manson then gets to his feet with all the energy he has left from battling the spot monkeys, and dives to make a tag to JJ. Johnson climbs through the ropes, and stalks Zyon. Just when Zyon is at his knees, JJ runs to the ropes, and bounces back. By the time JJ is at Zyon, the Unique Youth is at his feet. Not for long though, because JJ just lifted a knee up, and drove Zyon’s face in with it.

 

RAHHHHH!

 

 

“Busaiku Knee kick! It’s not hard to see how heavily influenced the Japanese style is on Johnson.”

 

“Yeah…and Akira too…but only kinda…” King mumbles to himself, as the action continues... Johnson picks up Zyon by the hair, and throws an elbow at his cheek bone.

 

 

CRAAAAACK

 

 

Zyon stumbles backwards, falling back against the ropes, and tries to rebound, running at JJ, but Johnson catches him between the legs, and flips him sideways with a powerslam! JJ hooks the leg on the self-working cover.

 

ONEEE!

 

 

 

 

TWOOO!

 

 

 

 

THRENOO!

 

“Did JJ think he was gonna get a 3 count there? Honestly, now…”

 

“Well, it was worth a shot, King,” counters Francis. JJ picks up Zyon by the hair, and throws another elbow at him. JJ makes sure to hold on to Zyon’s hair so that he doesn’t escape from his grasp. JJ then hooks Zyon’s arm over his back, bending him over at the waist before flipping Zyon over with a half-hatch suplex!

 

“Half-hatch suplex!” calls Mak. “Nicely executed!” Johnson wastes no time in picking Zyon back up by his hair. JJ then forces Zyon to bend over, much like the previous suplex, only this time JJ applies a double underhook with both arms, before flipping Zyon over with a butterfly suplex! Zyon, briefly feeling a second wind, gets up right away, and faces JJ with a menacing look. Johnson then runs right over to Zyon, and elbows him out of the ring.

 

“Well…so much for THAT comeback.”

 

With no one in the ring, Akira takes it upon himself to get in the ring for the Tecnicos, and he does so quickly, rushing furiously at the International Champion! Akira thrusts his arm upwards, and nails JJ upside the chin with a European Uppercut! Johnson, taken by surprise, falls backwards, reaching upwards to make a tag to Spike Jenkins.

 

“Team Captain in now…”

 

Akira doesn’t slow down though. He throws a European Uppercut at Spike, who stumbles and falls to his ass. Akira then runs to the ropes, and bounces off with velocity. He steps up to Spike’s knee, and then drives a foot into Spike’s face with a Shining Gamengiri!

 

“Akira is CLEANING HOUSE,” Francis shouts.

 

“Yeah, this match is pathetic. How about some competition?”

 

Spike decides that he has had enough, and rolls out of the ring to the apron, and Manson enters the ring in his place. Manson throws his arm out at Akira, but The Divine Wind is quicker on the draw, and nails Manson with a European Uppercut! Manson falls to his knee, which leads to Akira applying a double-underhook to Manson.

 

“Going for It Came From Sendai….”

 

Akira swings Manson to the side, lifting him up into the air. He then drops him down, face first, planting him into the mat with Akira’s signature move!

 

“It came from Sendai…but it ends in Baghdad!” King shouts.

 

‘King, every time Akira does that move you say that,” quips Francis. “Be more creative!”

 

“You know what, Mak? If you’re going to be like this, I don’t know if I really want to call this with you,” King says, as he slides his seat over a few feet.

 

“Bwuh…ah…”

 

Akira slides over to Manson to make a cover…but there comes JJ Johnson from outside the ring, nailing Akira with a rolling elbow! Red Herrington barks orders at JJ, telling him to get out of the ring while Eddy Long sits back, enabling the Rudos to gain a tactical advantage. Manson picks up Akira by the mask, and traps him in a front facelock before lifting Kaibatsu up holding him completely vertically in the air! Manson stalls, and the Iraqi crowd counts the seconds Manson holds him up there.

 

 

 

ONEEE

 

 

 

 

TWOOOO

 

 

 

 

THREEE

 

 

“Don’t you find it odd this crowd knows English so well?” Mak asks.

 

“Humph”

 

 

FOOURRR

 

 

And then Manson finally drops Kaibatsu down to the mat, splashing Akira’s back against the mat! Manson gets up, and slaps a tag at Spike. Spike steps through the ropes, and grabs Kaibatsu by the mask before wrapping his left arm round Akira’s neck and dropping down to his knees, driving Akira’s chin into his shoulder! Spike holds onto Akira though, gets back to his feet before then slamming Akira down to the canvas with an STO!

 

“Minor Threat, STO combo! Spike tried that combo with the Highlighter against Akira in the pure rules match, but Akira put his foot on the ropes!” Mak screams, as Spike hooks a leg.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

THREENOOOOOO!

 

“Gahh! Akira kicks out of the STO! Am—King, what the hell are you doing?”

 

“I want my cooler back. I’m taking it, and going right back.”

 

“…what if I get thirsty?” demands Francis.

 

“Maybe that’ll teach you to be nicer.”

 

“NICER?! You’re the one who was shitting on the match!”

 

“This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

 

Mak sighs. Spike’s reaction is more of a groan though, and he gives a tag to JJ. JJ tries to pick up Akira by the leg, but Akira scurries towards his corner, and dives towards Wildchild to make a tag. WC gets in and runs towards JJ, but the International Champion is prepared, and catches him, flipping him backwards for a backdrop! Wildchild is back to his feet quickly, but just as he gets up, he finds himself in a rear waistlock, thanks to JJ. Johnson flips WC backwards, dropping him on his head with a German suplex!

 

 

“DANGEROUS GEEEERMAAAAN!” Mak yells.

 

“Humph!” harrumphs King,

 

“Oh, real mature!” JJ crawls over to Wildchild and makes a cover, hooking the leg closest to him:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOO!!!

 

 

 

 

THREEENOOOO!!!

 

 

Wildchild reached out with his free leg, and put it on the ropes!

 

“Uncharacteristic of JJ to do something like that…” Mak says, eyeballing his comrade. JJ whips Wildchild into the turnbuckle, and tags in his partner and co-champion, Manson. The two champions throw kicks at Wildchild’s gut, causing the Bahama Bomber to dry heave a little bit. JJ steps outside the ring, and Manson takes over now. Manson puts WC in a front facelock, and then grabs a hold of his leg. He pulls it in towards his body and spins around, driving Wildchild’s head into the canvas with a Moss-Covered Three-Handled Family Credenza!

 

“I’m not even going to bother saying that,” intones Mak. “You guys know what it was.” Manson then cockily kicks WC, keeping him on the ground for just a moment longer. Manson then ascends to the 2nd rope of the turnbuckle before jumping off, driving an elbow down into WC’s gut!

 

“Elbow from the 2nd—Alright, King… I apologize…” Mak breaks away from the action at just the wrong time, because Manson is making a cover:

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

THREE— NOOO!

 

RAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

 

TEC-NI-COS!

 

TEC-NI-COS!

 

“How nice of you, Francis,” King says, as he slides his chair back over towards Mak. “I’m sorry too.”

 

“Let’s not do that ever again.”

 

“Especially not on TV.”

 

“Yeah, that part most of all.”

 

Manson ignores his failed pinfall attempt, and extends a hand out for Spike Jenkins. The team captain accepts the tag, and steps through the ropes. He picks up WC by the bottom of his hair, and kicks him square in the gut. Spike then runs to the ropes behind Wildchild and bounces off, catching the back of WC’s head as he rebounds and then twisting it down as he slams him to the canvas with a neckbreaker!

 

“Phantom Neckbreaker!” Mak and King yell at the same time. Instead of going for a pinfall, Spike lifts up Wildchild by his hair again and pops him in the face with a forearm! Spike throws one more forearm into WC’s face before tossing him into the ropes. Wildchild takes off running, but leaps into the air as he approaches the edge of the ring and lands on the second rope. Deftly, the Human Hurricane springs back towards the center of the ring, spinning around in midair and landing in a seated position on Spike’s shoulders! WC locks his ankles behind Spike’s neck and arches backwards, taking Jenkins over with a breathtaking rana!

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

 

Wildchild grabs the back of Spike’s legs, and leans forward as Red Herrington makes a cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

THREEEENOOOO!

 

 

AWWWWWW!

 

“So close there!” Mak shouts.

 

“Yeah, that move was kind of out of nowhere.”

 

Wildchild and Spike lay on the canvas, with Jenkins recovering first. The two team captains crawl towards their respective corners, and Hollywood is the first to make a tag, slapping hands with JJ Johnson. Wildchild sees JJ coming after him, and hurries up a bit more, diving to hit Akira’s palm!

 

 

SMACK!

 

The two wrestlers meet in the center of the ring, and Akira wastes no time; JJ might not have his sights set on Akira as such, but Kaibatsu damn well wants some of Johnson! The Divine Wind comes out swinging, nailing JJ with a European Uppercut, and knocking Johnson on his ass! Akira then runs towards JJ, and extends a leg out, nailing the International Champion with a Yakuza Kick from the ground!

 

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

“Jeez, Akira’s out swinging on this one, eh?” King says. Kaibatsu picks up JJ by the beard, and stuns him with an uppercut to the jaw, before trapping him in a front facelock. The Divine Wind flips JJ’s arm over his neck, and lifts him into the air. Akira stalls for as long as his strength will allow before dropping JJ forward, extending his knee out and planting JJ’s back over it!

 

“Divine Backbreaker!” Mak calls. Kaibatsu makes a lateral press cover, hooking both legs for added pressure:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWOOO!!!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

NO! JJ got his HAND on the rope!

 

“Just goes to show you, Francis, this man KNOWS what he’s doing in the ring. JJ’s a future world champ,” King foresees. Kaibatsu stalks JJ, who is slowly starting to get up. Akira races across the ring towards the farthest set of ropes, and leaps up onto the middle rope as he approaches the edge of the ring. Kaibatsu springs off the second rope and flies through the air, spinning around backwards and swinging his left foot out, nailing JJ in the face with it!

 

 

RAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

“Springboard Gamengiri from Akira,” King says. “He could get it if he wants it!” But Akira doesn’t go for a pinfall; he has something else on his mind.

 

Kaibatsu approaches the head of JJ, and pulls him up into a sitting position. Akira then places his arms around the chin of JJ, and his knee behind JJ’s back; his other leg steps over JJ’s body:

 

“STEPOVER FACELOCK!”

 

“JJ used that to beat Asian Underground for the tag titles!”

 

“That was a classic match, too, Mak,” adds King. Akira pulls back on JJ’s face; JJ endures nearly as much humiliation in this hold as he is real pain, but he tries his best to ignore it. Eventually though… he can’t…

 

 

…JJ lifts up his and…and starts to bring it down…

 

…But Manson steps through the ring, and runs towards Akira, attempting to break it up! He doesn’t have to do anything physical to break up the hold though, for Akira steps off of JJ, and runs towards Manson. Kaibatsu nails Manson with a European Uppercut that sends Manson flying outside the ring! Then Akira turns his attention back to the International Champion. Kaibatsu realizes that conditions are no longer favorable for the stepover facelock, but he still believes that he can put JJ away. Akira lifts him up by the beard, and traps him in a reversed front facelock before running towards the corner, climbing up the turnbuckles and flipping backwards …

 

 

“He’s going for the Divine Wind!!!”

 

 

Kaibatsu continues to flip… but he’s rotates too far! Johnson grabs a hold of Akira’s side and takes complete control over his body’s motion! The International Champion falls backwards…

 

 

 

BANG!

 

 

… Right into a Backdrop Driver!

 

 

“DIVINE WIND INTO A BACKDROP DRIVER, MY GOOODDDDDDDDDDD”

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

Funyon booms into a microphone, “Akira Kaibatsu has been eliminated!”

 

JJ slides out of the ring. Akira gave him his money’s worth and he needs a breather. Now outnumbered, the captain of the Tecnicos leaps into the ring, where he finds himself face-to-face with his counterpart.

 

“The Tecnicos are down a man!” says King happily. “And I’m loving every minute of it! Now you’re going to see what Wildchild and Zyon are really made of!” WC and Spike lock up in the center of the ring, and Hollywood quickly shifts into a side headlock. Wildchild shoves Jenkins across the ring and lowers his head to deliver a back-body drop as Spike rebounds, but Hollywood hops into the air and swings his feet forward, smashing them into the top of WC’s head with a running dropkick!

 

“Great ring awareness on the part of Spike Jenkins!” praises King. Hollywood rolls to his feet looking insufferably pleased with himself, and crosses his arms above his head, signifying his straight-edge lifestyle. He walks back over to Wildchild and pulls him roughly to his feet by the hair, before grabbing him by the wrist and whipping him across the ring. Spike suddenly charges towards WC as he rebounds, arm raised to deliver a ferocious lariat!

 

 

… But the Human Hurricane ducks underneath and continues to run until he reaches the edge of the ring, where he leaps onto the top rope and curls into a ball as he springs back into the ring, knocking Spike to the canvas with his patented Pinball attack! Wildchild clamors atop Jenkins and applies a lateral press:

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

TH—

 

 

 

 

Manson rushes in to break up the pinfall, stomping hard onto WC’s back, and then takes over on offense as Hollywood rolls out of the ring. The Raging Bull scoops Wildchild up in his arms as if he was a rag doll, and brings him crashing back down onto his outstretched thigh with a Rib Breaker!

 

“Look at the power here being displayed by Manson,” crows King, as Manson holds onto Wildchild as he lifts him back up, only to bring him back down for a second Rib Breaker! Manson picks WC up a third time and turns away from his corner before tossing Wildchild overhead in that direction with a Fallaway Slam! JJ Johnson grabs onto the top rope and propels himself into the ring, even as his partner rolls out onto the arena floor, and extends his left leg as he crashes down onto WC with a slingshot legdrop! He quickly rolls over into a cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THRE— NO!

 

 

Wildchild just gets the shoulder up!

 

 

“Wildchild get lucky there,” says King, “but you can tell that he’s in a world of trouble, as the Rudos are moving fluidly in and out of the ring… And now you’re going to see the continuity of the Tag Team Champions as they cut the ring in half on Wildchild; if they can get to him, they won’t even have to worry about Zyon!”

 

Johnson pulls Wildchild to his feet and traps him in a front facelock. He drapes WC’s free arm over the back of his head as he reaches down to grab the far leg, and then lifts him up into a vertical suplex, but the Bahama Bomber counters, swinging his weight forward and pulling Johnson into an inside cradle!

 

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Manson and Spike cannot react quickly enough to break up the pinfall, but Johnson still has more than enough energy to kick out! He scrambles back to his feet, but WC is waiting for him, and directs a basement dropkick to Johnson’s left knee! Wildchild grabs JJ’s left ankle as he stands back up and position’s Johnson’s leg between his own as he hops back off the canvas, pulverizing the International Champion’s knee as he crashes back down to the canvas with a jumping knee buster!

 

“Look at Wildchild fire back!” marvels Francis, as WC gets back to his feet, still holding JJ’s left leg by the ankle. “You can bet that he wants to get a little payback on Johnson for losing the International Title last week… And it looks like he may be going for the Figure Four!”

 

WC wraps Johnson’s left leg behind his right, and then bends down to grab JJ’s right leg, crossing the Champion’s left leg over his own right before WC falls backwards to cinch in the Figure Four Leglock!

 

 

RAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

 

“There it is!” shouts Mak. “We could get a submission here!”

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… But we won’t, as Manson rushes into the ring to save his partner, stomping on WC’s midsection to break the hold. Zyon rushes into the ring to come to his partner’s aid, but he is met by the Raging Bull, who sidesteps him and grabs him by the back of the head before leading back to his corner and heaving him casually over the top rope!

 

“Hah!” snorts King. “Zyon thought he’d come in to make the save, but Manson wasn’t having it!” Manson whips WC into the corner and follows him in with a running shoulderblock that sends the Bahaman slumping down to the canvas. The Stampede looks out to the crowd with a sinister sneer before he positions his foot against WC’s face and proceeds to deliver the Face Wash!

 

“I love me some Face Wash!” cheers King happily. Manson drags Wildchild out of the corner by the ankle and gives a slight nod to Johnson, who returns to the ring with Spike as the Raging Bull steps back out onto the apron. Johnson and Spike pulls WC to his feet and whip him into the ropes, where they each grab him by a leg as he rebounds and lift him into the air, falling backwards to plant him into the canvas with a double-flapjack!

 

 

OOOOOOOOOOH!

 

 

“Outstanding double-team maneuver by the Rudos,” acknowledges Mak, as Manson steps back into the ring. “And now it looks like they’re going to set Wildchild up again!” Manson and JJ both pull WC to his feet and then each grab him by an arm as they stand on each side of him. The Tag Team Champions each reach across their bodies to double Wildchild over, courtesy of a double-punch to the midsection! Zyon tries to help his partner, but Eddy Long grabs onto his ankle to keep him from getting back into the ring, as Spike climbs onto the top of WC’s back.

 

“What do you think’s going on here?” wonders King, as Jenkins stands proudly atop Wildchild’s back, posing like he was George Washington crossing the Delaware, while JJ and Manson each flip the crowd off with their free hand.

 

“What the hell is this?” demands Francis.

 

Just when you think that the scene couldn’t get any weirder, Hollywood begins to sing in a loud, obnoxious baritone:

 

 

“OOOOOH SAY, CAN YOU SEE…”

 

 

BOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

The Middle Eastern fans take great umbrage to the singing of the National Anthem of the United States, and begin booing mercilessly!

 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” shouts Mak.

 

 

“This is great!” counters King. “This is the greatest thing I’ve seen live since I saw Eclectic and Sydney Sky making out in the locker room a few years back! I wish I had some popcorn!”

 

Finally, Zyon manages to free himself from Eddy Long’s clutches and leaps into the ring, running towards the center of the ring and leaping into the air, knocking Hollywood off of WC’s back with a flying tackle! JJ and Manson release WC, and the Caribbean Cruiser rolls out of the ring to recover as the Tag Team Champions head over to assist their captain.

 

“Zyon’s finally had enough!” shouts Mak, as the Unique Youth pounds away on his former partner’s face with hard right hands. “Look at him got to work on Hollywood!” JJ and Manson pulls Zyon off of Jenkins, however, and each grab a wrist as they whip him across the ring. Spike gets back to his feet as Zyon bounces off the ropes, and the Tag Team Champs prepare to greet him with a double clothesline…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… But the Unique Youth leaps over their arms and flips forward in midair, bringing both feet around and slamming them into Hollywood’s face with a spectacular flipping dropkick!

 

 

ZY-ON!

ZY-ON!

ZY-ON!

ZY-ON!

 

 

“Phenomenal acrobatic move by the Unique Youth!” exclaims Francis. “I can’t believe that he was able to do that!” Zyon swiftly rolls back to his feet and catches Johnson as he rushes towards him with a hiptoss, slipping his arm towards JJ’s head just as the International Champion gets vertical and pulling him down into a falling neckbreaker!

 

“Disconnect!” shouts Mak. Zyon pops back to his feet…

 

 

WHACK!

 

 

… But gets turned inside out by a running lariat from the Raging Bull!

 

 

“Quick thinking on the part of Manson to go for that lariat,” says King approvingly, “as Zyon appeared to be on the verge of gaining the momentum!” Manson pulls Zyon to his feet and blasts him repeatedly in the side of the face with vicious knee strikes until the Unique Youth falls wearily to his knees. The Stampede pantomimes a big kneelift to the face by patting his thigh and then runs to the ropes…

 

CRASH!

 

… But the Bahama Bomber reaches up to grab the top rope, and Manson spills out to the arena floor, landing awkwardly on his head!

 

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

 

“Wildchild makes the save to the Tecnicos!” shouts Mak. JJ gets back to his feet as he observes what’s going on, and resolves to knock Wildchild from the apron. He charges towards the edge of the ring and dives feet-first at WC’s feet with a baseball slide, but the Human Hurricane sees him coming and reacts accordingly, leaping deftly onto the top rope as JJ slides out onto the arena floor. Johnson looks up to see where he went just as Wildchild flips gracefully off of the top rope and out to the floor, crashing into the International Champion with an Asai Moonsault!

 

“Unbelievable!” cries Francis, as Spike rolls back into the ring to take up the slack for his team. “Wildchild has taken both of the Tag Team Champions out of play! And now Spike Jenkins is left in the ring against his arch-rival!” Hollywood knocks Zyon down with a ferocious Yakuza Kick, and then pulls him to his feet, pushing him roughly back into the corner. Jenkins slaps Zyon around and then lifts him up onto the top turnbuckle.

 

“Spike’s going for a Superplex!” says King. “If he hits this, Zyon’ll be free meat in there!” Spike attempts to lift Zyon up, but the Unique Youth fights back, hammering Spike repeatedly in the midsection until he lets go, and then pushes him backwards! Spike lands hard on the canvas and remains motionless as Zyon gets his feet set on the top rope. He leaps down into the ring…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And crashes into his nemesis with the Final Flash! Zyon rolls over Spike’s body and reaches across to hook the leg as Herrington drops down to make the count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

 

“Vitamin” begins to play again as the crowd begins to cheer again. Funyon rises from his seat to give the official word: “Here are your winners… The TEC-NI-COS!” WC rolls back into the ring and helps Zyon to his feet as Herrington raises their hands in victory.

 

“A tremendous effort by the Tecnicos, as they were able to overcome the tactics of the Rudos!” cheers Mak. “And now, Zyon, Akira and the Wildchild have earned the right to challenge Grendel for the World Cruiserweight Championship! A match that we could very well see on Storm. For the King, I’m the Franchise, and we’ll see you at our next stop on the SWF World Tour!”

 

Akira returns to the ring to help his teammates celebrate…

 

 

As we:

FADE OUT