SWF Smarkdown 6-5-2006

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The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents...
SWF SMARKDOWN!
Live, Monday, June 5th, from the front lawn of the Seoul Namdaemun Gate in Seoul, South Korea!
(6pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings)





The SWF heads south of the border... but not THAT border! Smarkdown comes to you live from Seoul, South Korea, marking the last stop before Nippon Budokan! Tonight's show comes from the front lawn of the Namdaemun Gate!



-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

MAIN EVENT
JJ Johnson vs. Zyon ©
-> Why was Zyon beating the top dog one minute, then fighting on a tank the next? Because we needed someone for House Rules, that's why. It should not have been taken as a sign that his win would go unnoticed - oh no. We noticed, alright. He'll be moving on up, but not to the East Side - he'll be moving on up the rankings, and the card! Zyon main events tonight, against a man he shares some history with... whoever wins will be getting a HUGE momentum boost heading into the PPV... whoever loses...

... well, they just lose.
Rules: Standard singles match.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

SWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
The New Doomtopians (Jimmy the Doom © and Doomstroyer ©) vs. The Dead Precedents (Bruce Blank and Bloodshed)
-> I had hoped this would be a PPV match, but sadly, the life of a booker is not all sunshine and daisies. Conflicts of interest arise, and the Tag Title Match that we thought would grace the halls of Nippon Budokan will now grace the lawn of the Seoul Namdaemun Gate. The downside? Word limits. The upside? FREE TV, BITCHES~! In any event, the Doomtopians lifted the titles off the terribly impressive team of JJ Johnson and "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins - will their luck hold out against The Dead Precedents?
Rules: Standard tag team match.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Michael Stephens vs. Insane Luchadore
-> I have no clue how Stephens did on Lockdown yet... but let's assume that Insane Luchadore came out and blasted him with a steel chair, prompting this match!

Or maybe the other way around...
Rules: Standard singles match.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

OPENING BOUT - The Seoul Survivor Match - Fatal Fourway Elimination
Grendel vs. Sean Davis vs. Stryke vs. "The Divine Wind" Akira Kaibatsu
-> It has been brought to my attention that The Patron Wrestler of Athens, Zyon, has yet to defend this honourable title since he won it! THAT AIN'T TOO COOL, MAN. Tonight, we will determine his challenger - four worthy contenders rumble for the right to be called The Seoul Survivor, and at a future date that has yet to be determined, The Seoul Survivor and the Patron Wrestler will battle one-on-one to determine who is truly deserving of their titles!
Rules: Two men in the ring, two outside. Tags can be made to anyone at any time. ELIMINATION RULES! Last man remaining wins, and shall be known forever (or until next year's World Tour) as THE SEOUL SURVIVOR!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

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We start the show off, where all four men have already made their entrance, only barely catching the end of Wu-Tang Clan’s “Protect Ya Neck” before Funyon does the introductions.

 

“From Sydney Australia….STRYYYKEEEEE!”

 

“Stryke hasn’t been winning lately, but any match is an opportunity for him to break that streak,” Mak says.

 

“And from Jacksonville Florida…”THE PERFECT STORM” SEEEEAAAN DAVIIIISSSSSS”

 

“Davis is the x-factor in this match…6’5, 285 pounds”

 

“From Sendai Japan…”THE DIVINE WIIIINDDDD” AKIRRRAAAAA KAAAIIIBAATSSUUUU”

 

“Kaibatsu’s a former Cruiserweight champion, and he held it for a while…but he did lose it to…”

 

“From Manhatten New York….THE SPIRIT OF AGRESSION…GRENDEEELLLLLL”

 

“This man.”

 

Akira and Stryke start the match. They begin circling each other. Stryke then turns to Sean Davis, and throws a knife edge chop through the ropes at his chest. Stryke smiles with delight at his creative tag, as he steps through the ropes, and Sean Davis enters.

 

“Well, I guess that technically counts,” Mak says.

 

“Oh, it counts.”

 

Akira and Davis approach each other, and grapple in a collar and elbow tie up. The push into each other with power, and fall over onto the mat, and roll over in the tie up. Davis let’s go, and slides his legs up, choking Akira with them. Kaibatsu kips up to get out of it, and Davis gets up too, and locks Akira in a side headlock. He throws Kaibatsu with a headlock takedown. Akira uses his legs to grab Davis’ head just like Sean did to Akira, and similarly Davis kips up. Akira then grabs Davis with a side headlock, and throws a headlock takedown. Davis rolls with it, and hooks Akira with a flash pin, for a one count. Davis tries it again, but Akira rolls all the way out of it, and gets up. He runs at Davis, and Davis catches him with an arm drag. Akira gets up right away, and Davis runs at him. Kaibatsu then catches Davis with an arm drag. Both men get up, and Kaibatsu runs at Davis. The Divine Wind jumps up, and delivers a head scissors, which sends Davis into the turnbuckle. Akira runs at Davis again, and attempts a monkey flip, but Davis shoves Akira away. Sean then runs at Akira, and extends an arm for a lariat, but Akira catches it and hits Davis with another arm drag. Davis gets up, and runs at Akira, and hits Akira with an arm drag! The two back off to catch their breath.

 

“The audience likes it!” Mak says.

 

“And why wouldn’t they?”

 

“Because we’re in South Korea, and really? Who wrestles in Korea?”

 

“We’re not just wrestling in Korea…we’re wrestling in SEOUL~! SEOUL SURVIVOR~! Get it, Mak? Like Sole, but it’s really Seoul.”

 

Sean Davis then turns to Stryke, and nails him with a knife edged chop, making a tag. Stryke raises his eyebrows at Davis, and walks into the ring.

 

“Returning the favor, eh?”

 

Akira and Stryke circle each other, making a complete 360 around the ring, and right before they’re about to finally tie up, Grendel reaches as far as he can, and swipes Akira’s back, tagging himself in. Grendel comes up to Stryke, and nails him with a forearm. He then whips Stryke into the ropes. The Australian bounces back, and Grendel tries to leap frog over his head, but Stryke stops short. Stryke then nails Grendel in the face with a forearm, which he wasn’t prepared for. Grendel reacts in angry fashion, and locks Stryke in a side headlock. Stryke backs up into the ropes, and shoves Grendel off. Grendel bounces back, and tries to knock Stryke down with a shoulder block, but Stryke wont budge. Grendel runs at the ropes once again, and Stryke tries to hit him with a lariat, but Grendel ducks under it. Grendel then runs towards Stryke again and successfully hits that shoulder block. Grendel then gets down towards Stryke, and hooks a small package, for a two count. Both men get up, and Grendel puts Stryke in a side headlock. Stryke then flips Grendel backwards, and nails him with a backdrop driver!!!!

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

 

“Backdrop Driver!” Mak screams.

 

Stryke opts not to go for a cover though. Instead he walks over to the turnbuckle, and ascends to the top. He leaps off, extending his limbs in, and then out, going for All Time High!

“This used to be his finisher...HE MISSED IT!” King shouts.

King’s call is correct. Grendel, barely but definitely, rolled out of the way before Stryke could reach him with All Time High. Grendel then uses what little energy he has left from that Backdrop Driver, and runs at the ropes. He bounces off one...then the other...continues to bounce until Stryke has reached his feet. Once he does, Grendel nails him with a lariat! Grendel picks him up, and Irish Whips him into the ropes, but Stryke stops himself from bouncing back. He then walks over to Sean Davis, and makes a tag.

“Stryke seems a little but frustrated” Mak says, as Sean Davis walks in. Grendel puts Davis in another side headlock. Davis backs up in the headlock, towards the corner. Akira makes a blind tag on Grendel, but Grendel nor Davis realizes it, and Davis shoves Grendel off the headlock. Akira enters, and throws a knife edged chop at Davis’ back, as Grendel hits the ropes. Davis turns around, and is hit with one of Akira’s signature European Uppercuts! Davis is knocked back a bit, but comes firing back at Akira with a forearm. Davis then whips Akira into the ropes. Akira comes running back, and nails Davis in the chest with a dropkick! Davis is sent out of the ring with the force from that dropkick.

 

“This match is fast paced fun!” Mak shouts.

 

King sighs, and ignores Mak’s last statement.

 

Akira turns to the fans in Seoul, and screams, as he runs towards Davis on the outside of the ring. Akira dives through the ropes, and then flips, nailing Davis with a flipping Tope Con Hilo!!!

 

 

YEAHHHHHHHHHHH

 

“Tope Con Hiloooooooooo~!” King shouts!

 

Akira then throws Davis into the ring, and Sean slowly starts to get up, as Akira gets in the ring and climbs the nearest turnbuckle. Davis finally reaches his feet, and Akira dives sideways for a cross body, but Sean catches him, and nails him with a powerslam!! Davis then picks up Sean, and hooks his shoulder’s into Akira’s abdomen. He flips Akira backwards, for a bridged Northern Lights Suplex!!!!

 

 

ONEEEE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOO!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRRENOOOOOOO!

 

Davis gets up, and whips Akira into the turnbuckle, so that he can catch his breath. Grendel is going to give Davis more time to do it than he would like, though, as he tags himself in. Grendel then runs towards Akira, and nails him with a knife edged chop. Akira fights back, nailing Grendel with a European Uppercut, and then switches their positions, and nails Grendel in the chest with a knife edged chop. Akira then whips Grendel into the ropes, and follows him, nailing him with a lariat. Akira then lifts up Grendel onto the turnbuckle, but before Akira can get up too, Grendel nails him in the head, and locks in a front facelock. He then shifts to the side ropes with the front facelock, and Davis makes a blind tag on Grendel’s back. Grendel spins off of the ropes with Akira in hand, and hits a tornado suplex! He holds on to Akira’s head afterwards, with the front facelock. Davis then runs in, and nails Grendel in the face with a Yakuza kick!

 

“This is too confusing! I can’t keep track of all these blind tags!” King complains.

 

Davis picks up Akira by the mask, and locks in a cravate. He then flips Akira forward for a snapmare, and nails a kick to Akira’s back. Akira gets up, despite the pain in his back, and nails Davis with a European Uppercut. He then hits Davis with a snapmare of his own, and a kick to the back.

 

“These guys have too much pride to let the other guy know they’ve hurt each other,” Mak says.

 

Davis then gets up, and hits Akira with a snapmare. He holds Akira’s head with the palm of his huge hand, and starts kicking away at Akira’s back non-stop. He finally stops, and then screams at the crowd, with the roar of their approval. While he does that, Kaibatsu gets up. Davis turns around, and is met with a Kaibatsu European Uppercut once again, before a snapmare. Kaibatsu know holds Davis’ head, and kicks away at his back.

 

Stryke, who is know for some reason on the outside, pulls Akira by the feet to the outside. He then slams Akira’s back into the guard rail. Stryke then gets into the ring, and prepares to wrestle Sean Davis from here.

 

“uhh…Stryke know’s he’s not the legal man, right?” King asks.

 

Legal man or not the legal man, Davis is indifferent to the situation. He runs at Stryke, going for a lariat. Stryke is prepared for it though, and ducks under it, flipping Davis over the ropes and to the outside with Akira. Stryke’s got an idea now, though. He runs at the ropes, and bounces back off. He runs with all his speed at Akira and Davis, and he flies through the middle ropes. He hits Davis and Akira with both of his elbows..,and accidentally ends up in the crowd!!

 

 

 

 

 

“I think Stryke is dead.”

 

 

…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

 

 

“TOPE CON HILOOOOOOOOOOOO” Mak shouts.

 

Grendel then enters the ring, and steps out towards the apron where everyone else is. Stryke tries to step over the guard rail, as Davis and Akira slowly get up. Grendel jumps up into the air, and bounces his ass off the top rope. He uses that momentum to carry over into a moonsault, toppling all three competitors!!!

 

 

“ARABIAN MOONSAULT!!”

 

YEAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

 

“Match of the Night so far, easily!” King shouts.

 

“King, this opened up the show.”

 

“And no one is eliminated yet! What a match!”

 

Stryke and Davis climb into the ring, and begin to trade forearms, as Akira slams Grendel’s head into the ringpost on the outside. Akira climbs into the ring to see Davis and Strike and their forearm battle. Akira taps Stryke on the shoulder. He turns around, and is immediately met with a European Uppercut! Davis then puts him in a rear waist lock, and flips him back with a German Suplex! He then turns around to face Akira, but Akira comes running at him with a lariat! Davis ducks the lariat though, and puts Akira in a rear waist lock! He tries for a German Suplex, but Akira backflips out of it! Akira then delivers a knife edged chop to the back of Davis. Stryke then gets up, and nails Davis in the chest with a knife edged chop! Akira then runs up behind Davis, and locks in a half nelson. He uses all his strength to lift Davis backwards with a half nelson suplex!

 

RAHHHHHHHHHHH!

 

“HALF NELSON SUPLEXXXXXX OH MY GOD!” Mak shouts, as Akira walks over to Davis to make a cover. Before he gets the chance though, Stryke comes up to him from behind, and puts Akira in a sleeper. He then drops down to his stomach, nailing a sleeper drop!

 

Stryke and Akira slowly get up, as Davis crawls into the corner, sitting down and taking a breather. Akira and Stryke are still going full speed though. Kaibatsu runs right into Davis, flipping forward nailing him with his back! Davis can’t take much more, and just as he’s about to fall over Stryke runs at him, with a running facewash!

 

“Referee Byron Dragonson has lost all control of this match!”

 

Akira runs at the ropes, as Stryke gets up from the facewash. Akira extends a boot up, and nails Stryke with a Yakuza Kick! Grendel finally re-enters the ring, and grabs Akira with a front facelock. He hooks his arm over his head, and hooks a leg, going for a Fisherman’s suplex!

 

Davis finally gets up though. He runs over towards Grendel, and puts him in a rear waistlock. Then, in a sudden feat of strength like few can do, Davis flips both men backwards, for German Suplex and a Fisherman’s Buster!

 

 

 

 

YEEEEAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

 

“GERMAN SUPLEX ON GRENDEL!”

 

“FISHERMAN’S BUSTER ON AKIRA!”

 

Davis looks over at Stryke, who is now running right at him with a jumping high knee! Davis falls, and so does Stryke! Everyone is down!

 

“ESS-DUB-EFF! ESS-DUB-EFF!”

 

“To think, King, that we still have AN ENTIRE SHOW LEFT”

 

ONEEE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOO!

 

 

 

THREEE!

 

 

FOOUUR!

 

 

Grendel begins to get up, and so does Sean Davis. Davis runs up to Grendel, and hits a huge Exploder suplex!

 

 

ONEEE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRENOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Davis gets up, and is met right away with a huge lariat from Akira Kaibatsu! He then turns to Stryke, who is now up, and Stryke is quicker to the punch. He whips Akira into the turnbuckle. Akira falls, and is now sitting in the turnbuckle. Stryke runs at him, going for another face wash, but Akira moves out of the way, and Stryke’s foot is hung up on the rope. Akira gets up, and moves over towards Grendel. Grendel ducks beneath an Akira Kaibatsu lariat, and puts him on his back.

 

“Grendel’s going for one of his finishing moves, here!”

 

Grendel drops Akira on his head for Vengeance, his Death Valley Driver!

 

“YEEEAAAAHHHHHHHHH”

 

 

“VENGEANCE!! Grendel’s going to have an elimination here!”

 

 

Grendel Is about to go for a cover, that would certainly get a three count, but Stryke doesn’t give him a chance. He grabs him by the side, and flips him backwards, dropping him on his head with a backdrop driver!

 

 

YEEEEAAAAHHHH!

 

 

“Backdrop driver!!” Mak shouts.

 

Stryke is about to go for a cover, but cannot, because Sean Davis comes up from behind, and locks in a full nelson! He has the Avalanche locked in! Stryke can’t stay in for long..he has to tap. Instinctively, he lunges his feet towards the ropes. Davis has to let go…but he does so in interesting fashion. He lets go of one hand, and hrabs Stryke by the neck. He lifts him up, and throws him down with a chokeslam!

 

YEEEEAAHHH CHOKESLAAAAAAMMMMM!!!

 

Davis, like the others, can’t go for a cover right away though, because Akira Kaibatsu has recovered, and comes running up to him. He whips Davis into the turnbuckle, and runs at him with a lariat. He then turns to Grendel, and whips him into a turnbuckle. He then lifts Grendel up onto the top. Akira climbs up, and hooks Grendel’s arm over for a Superplex…but then Sean Davis runs up to the turnbuckle. He climbs up, and hooks Akira in a rear waist lock. He flips him backwards with an Avalanche German Suplex!

 

 

 

YEEAAHHH!

 

 

Akira rolls out of the ring with the momentum of that move. Davis isn’t done yet though. He once again walks up to that turnbuckle where Grendel is. He stuffs Grendel’s face into the turnbuckle, and butterflies his arms. He then flips him backwards, off the turnbuckle, planting him on his back for an Avalanche Tiger Driver!!

 

 

 

YEEEAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

 

 

 

 

 

“TIGER DRIVER! SEAN MAKES A COVER!!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONEEEEEE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

“and Grendel is eliminated!”

 

“He fought hard, but in the end, not hard enough”

 

 

Stryke gets up, and runs over to Davis, and puts him into a front facelock. He then drops Davis down to the mat with a DDT! Stryke then goes up to the turnbuckle. He leaps off, and extends his legs out, and drops them on the head of Sean Davis!

 

“Leg drop!”

 

Akira slides into the ring before Stryke can make a cover though. He stuffs Stryke’s head’s between his legs, and butterflies his arms. Kaibatsu then lifts him up, and spins him to the side, dropping him on his face with It Came From Sendai! Akira then covers Stryke, hooking a leg.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONEEEEEE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWWOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEENOOOOOOO!!

 

 

 

“Stryke kicks out!”

 

Akira then turns to Sean Davis, but The Perfect Storm is already at his feet. Davis spins Akira around, and hooks him in a full Nelson. Davis lifts Akira up, and drops him right back down to his feet!

 

“Full Nelson Atomic Drop! Davis pulls that out almost every match!”

 

King sighs. “And it never gets the pin. Who cares?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONEEEEEE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRENOOOOO!

 

 

 

“Told you” King laughs.

 

“You may be laughing King…but I don’t think Davis is…or Stryke for that matter”

 

Stryke gets up, and heads over to Sean Davis. He puts Davis in a rear waist lock, leaning his head out sideways. He uses all his strength to lift Davis backwards, and drop him on his head!

 

 

“BACKDROP DRIVER! THIRD TIME THIS EVENING!”

 

“Now thisgets covers.”

 

 

 

 

 

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

 

 

“That’s it! Sean Davis is eliminated!”

 

 

 

Akira walks up to Stryke, before Stryke can actually get up from his cover. Akira puts him in a front facelock, and hooks his arm over his head. He lifts him up vertically, and drops him back down. Akira extends his knee out, and twists Stryke in mid-air, planting his back on his knee.

 

 

“DIVINE BACKBREAKER!”

 

Akira makes a cover after his spectacular backbreaker.

 

 

 

 

 

ONEEE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRRRNOOO!

 

Stryke kicks out! Akira lifts Stryke back up though. Akira lifts Stryke up, and puts him in a front facelock. He flips his arm over his head, and lifts him up, and keeps him up.

 

“Stalling brainbuster….”

 

“Worst move ever. We were all fast paced, having a good time, and now Akira’s slowing it down. Fuc—“

 

King can’t get the last word out. At least no one can hear it. He’s drowned out by the roar of the crowd. Strkye slides out of Akira’s Brainbuster, and is now lined up behind him. He puts Akira in a rear waistlock, with his head sticking out the side, going for another Backdrop Driver.

 

“Going for a 5th one this match?!” Francis shouts.

 

“Looks like it…” King says.

 

He flips Akira backwards, attempting to drop him on his head alright…but Akira over flips. He lands on his feet. Instinctively, Akira grabs Stryke’s face in a cravate. He runs to the turnbuckle, flipping backwards on the top rope, dropping Stryke’s head to the mat!

 

 

“DIVVIIINEEE WIIINDDDD OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDD!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEE!

 

 

 

“HERE IS YOUR WINNER, AND THE SEOUL SURVIVOR…..THE DIVINE WIND….AKIRAAAA KAIIIIBATSSUUUUUU!”

[chirs3 0]

FADE IN

 

The camera fades in to a tight shot of Ben Hardy in the interview area. "With me at this time,accompanied by Melissa Fasaki, is the Wildchild!" Hardy pauses as the camera pans out to get WC and Melissa in the shot as well. "Wildchild, you haven't seemed like yourself since losing the International Championship a few weeks ago; do you feel like you've lost a step?"

 

"Definitely not," replies Wildchild. "Losing de International Title was a setback; dat's all. I haven' lost a step in de ring."

 

"Well, some people have noticed that you have been much more aggressive in the last couple of weeks," says Hardy. "Are we seeing a change in attitude?"

 

"I don' feel like my attitude has changed at all," replies WC, shaking his head. "It's jus' dat it took me losing de International Title t'realize dat I can't continue to compete at half-speed anymore... Y'know, after I won de International Championship, I had a couple of easy matches, an' I t'ought dat was all de effort dat I would need to hold onto de title... But, JJ Johnson was relentless in de match dat he took de title from me."

 

"So, are you attributing the way you've been wrestling recently to JJ Johnson?"

 

 

"In a way," replies WC. "JJ Johnson taught me a lesson in humility dat I won' soon forget. I don' intend t'take any of my opponents for granted any time soon. But he also awakened a hunger in me dat I haven't had since I beat Jay Hawke at From de Fire. I've got somet'ing t'prove to de worl', an' I'm gon' t'start at 13th Hour! I'm issuing an open challenge t'anybody SWF Superstar, past, present or future, t'face me in a one-on-one matchup at 13th Hour... An' I plan t' give JJ Johnson a sneak preview of what's in store for him de next time I get my hands on him!"

 

"Well, there you have it," says Hardy. "Wildchild has just issued an open challenge to anybody to face him one-on-one at 13th Hour. Let's get back to the ring!"

 

FADE OUT

[chirs3 0]

“Welcome back fans, we are here in South Korea and we’re about to see two old adversaries go at it again,” Mak Francis says, “the Insane Luchadore Andrew Rickmen, who is one of the longest-running competitors in the SWF-”

 

“Yeah, how long has Looch been 23 for?” King asks curiously, cutting in.

 

“-and Michael Stephens, who as Toxxic engaged in several memorable matches against Rickmen-”

 

“-winning them all,” the Gambling Man finishes. However Mak can say anything else and King can cut him off again the grinding guitars of Alice In Chains’ ‘Man In A Box’ starts up, leading to a positive response from the open-air crowd!

 

“RICK-MEN!”

 

“RICK-MEN!”

 

The song kicks up and there is a brief burst of black and red pyro that flashes up before Andrew Rickmen makes his way out into the evening air, the Insane One throwing his arms in the air and milking the cheers from the crowd. After a few seconds of this Rickmen suddenly bursts into action and sprints down to the ring, slapping hands with the fans as he goes before shooting under the bottom rope and springing to his feet.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon booms, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall; introducing first, from Easton, Pennsylvania! He weighs in tonight at 221lbs; he is YOUR Psychotic Hero, the IN-SAAAAAAAAAAAANE… LUUUUUUUCHADORRRRRRRRRRRE!!”

 

“YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Rickmen climbs the turnbuckles and raises his arms to encourage more cheers from the fans, the skull of the Misfits staring out from his shirt and mirroring his own rather wild-eyed expression. The Korean fans don’t care about the possible mental instability of the first entrant and display their approval with more cheers, until suddenly a chant rolls out through the night air…

 

‘COME AND HAVE A GO IF YOU THINK YER ‘ARD ENOUGH!’

 

‘COME AND HAVE A GO IF YOU THINK YER ‘ARD ENOUGH!’

 

With that, ‘Rookie’ by Boy Sets Fire kicks up, the crashing opening chord finally resolving into a distinctive bassline and then the signature jagged riff. The portable Smarktron, up until now showing some of the Insane Luchadore’s more dangerous exploits, fades down to black and jagged white letters flash up a familiar phrase, one word after another:

 

‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG…’

 

More clips flash up, this time of the Insane Luchadore’s opponent. Several of them feature a man with spiky black hair and eyeliner (including a couple of shots of the Philadelphia All-Show Brawl, a sight that makes Rickmen’s jaw tighten slightly), a few new ones show a man with longer hair and no visible make-up; facing down Landon Maddix; applying the RTF II to David Cross; throwing his signature pose to an ecstatic crowd. Then the shot changes, as it always does, to Mike Van Siclen being taken off a balcony and through a table with the Stephens Shock Syndrome, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the-

 

*BOOOM!*

 

-explosion of red pyro that announces the arrival of the SWF’s most decorated Englishman as the main riff kicks in! And then, through the flame and smoke…

 

“TOXXXXXXXXXX-IC…”

 

…with the Korean crowd chanting the name he was known by for so long…

 

“TOXXXXXXXXXX-IC…”

 

…hair hanging down and wearing a red England away shirt in honour of his home country’s 6-0 thumping of Jamaica at the weekend in their last friendly before the World Cup…

 

“TOXXXXXXXXXX-IC…”

 

…comes the man who ended Rickmen’s one-and-only run with the ICTV Title.

 

“AND HIS OPPONENT!” Funyon booms, trying to drown out the thunderous chants of the crowd, “from Nottingham, England, he weighs in tonight at 218lbs; this is MIIIIIIIII-CHAEL… STEEEEEEEEEEE-PHENS!!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“TOXXXXXXXXXX-IC…”

 

“TOXXXXXXXXXX-IC…”

 

Stephens cracks his neck from side-to-side as he stares down at the ring which contains a man he’s faced time after time; faced and beaten admittedly, but never easily. Stephens doesn’t mimic Rickmen’s mad rush down to the squared circle; instead he walks slowly and carefully down the ramp, slapping hands with fans almost absent-mindedly as he goes, before pausing at the bottom of the ramp. Once there he crosses his arms in the traditional straight-edge ‘X’ sign, but only for a moment before throwing them wide, palms flat to the floor, in the pose that he made famous from his first match in the company!

 

*BOOOM!*

 

More red pyro erupts from each turnbuckle as he does so, timed to coincide with the first verse of ‘Rookie’, but the Insane Luchadore doesn’t flinch. Instead he grabs the top rope, pulls back and launches himself over the top with a plancha that causes him to land on top of the surprised and unprepared Michael Stephens!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

The Korean fans are quite happy with such an unadulterated display of high-flying and aggression, and despite the fact that Rickmen didn’t bother waiting for the bell, or indeed for his opponent to enter the ring, they cheer heartily!

 

“The Insane Luchador wasting no time here,” Mak Francis says, “he took a loss at the hands of Tom Flesher the other week-”

 

“-as if there was going to be any other result,” King puts in.

 

“-and it could well be that he wants to get off to a good start against Michael Stephens, a man he’s never beaten,” Francis continues, silently swearing that spinal injury or not, the next time King interrupts him he’s going to get bitchslapped upside the head.

 

Meanwhile the Insane One has recovered from his aerial journey and takes the chance to fire a few punches off at Michael Stephens while he’s on top of his opponent, then gets up and raises his arms in salute of the fans. They respond by cheering even louder…

 

“RICK-MEN!”

 

“RICK-MEN!”

 

…and Rickmen caps it off by delivering a jumping kneedrop to Michael Stephens’ forehead! The three-time World Champion rolls away clutching his skull and Rickmen, sensing weakness, pursues with kicks to the ribs! Stephens isn’t going to chased off like a bitch though, and he makes a grab for Rickmen’s right foot and catches it, causing the Insane Luchadore to hop uncertainly on his left. The Sensation starts to rise back to his feet, keeping Rickmen unstable enough to make an enzuigiri or gamengiri attempt out of the question, then hooks his right leg behind Rickmen’s standing one and pulls, taking his opponent’s vertical base out from under him and dumping him onto his back!

 

“That was actually a reasonably well-executed takedown,” Mak says in surprise, “not what I would have expected from Michael Stephens outside the ring.”

 

Stephens reaches down and grabs Rickmen’s left leg before tucking one leg under each arm, hoisting his opponent partly off the floor to position his legs under the Insane One’s ass, then falls back to slingshot Rickmen up into a steel ringpost!

 

*THUNK!*

 

The Insane Luchadore staggers away from the impact, but amazingly he turns around and yells a challenge at Michael Stephens as the Englishman gets back to his feet! Stephens looks surprised, but charges at his opponent anyway… and Rickmen ducks his head at the last moment, sending Stephens flying up over his head and clean over the steel ring steps behind him with a back bodydrop, finishing with a hard landing on the protective mats beyond!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“The Insane Luchadore living up to his name there,” Francis says as the Korean crowd cheers the American’s unnatural resilience, “shrugging off a blow to the head that would have floored most men!”

 

“Hey, there’s so few braincells left in there he could play Russian roulette with a fully-loaded gun,” King quips.

 

Rickmen isn’t quite that hardcore, given that he’s still a bit wobbly after his collision with the steel post, but he’s perfectly able to climb the ring steps to the apron, then walk along until he’s in the perfect position to take advantage of Michael Stephens as the Englishman gets back to his feet. Rickmen stalks him, waits until Stephens is turning towards him before diving off the apron with a crossbody…

 

*SMACK!*

 

…and catches a dropkick to the chest, Stephens seeing him coming at the last moment and pulling out a desperation counter!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“TOXXXXXXXXXX-IC…”

 

“TOXXXXXXXXXX-IC…”

 

“I wish these people would make up their minds who they want to win,” King grumbles.

 

“They’re simply showing appreciation for two athletes giving their all,” Mak says. “Note how I called them ‘athletes’, not ‘wrestlers’.”

 

“You really are an elitist bastard at times, aren’t you?” King sneers at the former amateur wrestler sitting next to him.

 

“Hey, I respect Looch for being able to take a chairshot to the head, get up and call for more,” Francis says, “and I respect Stephens because he beat me, clean, to retain the World Title. They’re both good at what they do, but I wouldn’t call what they do ‘wrestling’.”

 

“So you’re not going to be doing a hard sell for Toxxic vs. Maddix at 13th Hour?” King asks, as both men in the match start getting to their feet while Brian Warner shouts at them to get inside so he can actually call for the opening bell, “you’re not likely to get much matwork in that!”

 

“In terms of the atmosphere, the rivalry, the drama, and the determination of both men involved, it should be a classic,” Francis states as Stephens grabs Rickmen by the head, rams said head into the apron and then rolls his opponent under the bottom rope. “If I want to watch wrestling I’d be better served watching whichever match Tom is in, even if he has turned into an asshole.”

 

With that possibly-harsh but almost-certainly-true analysis from the Franchise Michael Stephens hops up to the apron and for a moment seems to be considering doing some sort of slingshot move into the ring onto the Insane Luchadore, but the Englishman reconsiders and simply steps through the ropes, finally allowing referee Warner to ring the bell!

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

Rickmen has already started to get up and Stephens snapmares him over again, then sits down behind his opponent and threads his legs underneath Rickmen’s arms to apply what is effectively a seated full nelson, only using different limbs to apply it.

 

“OK, Toxxic’s using a resthold,” King says, “someone pinch me to make sure I’m not dreaming, because if the Editor of SpotMonkey Weekly is doing this, then I must be.”

 

“This is a sensible strategy,” Francis returns, “Stephens was taken off-guard by Rickmen’s early attack and while I doubt this hold will win the match, especially against someone with Looch’s resistance to pain, it’ll wear his opponent down and prevent him from being surprised again.”

 

“Right, strategy,” King agrees as the Insane Luchadore tries and fails to break his opponent’s grip, “are you seeing where the surreal factor comes in yet? We all know Toxxic’s strategy - jump around and drop people on their heads! Effective; yes. Subtle; not really!”

 

Michael Stephens braces his hands against the canvas and starts straightening his body, trying to put as much pressure as possible on the back of Andrew Rickmen’s neck. The Ill One grimaces in pain as he’s slowly bent forward in a sitting position, arms held up unnaturally and uselessly away from his body, but he’s perfectly able to laugh nastily when Brian Warner asks him if he wants to give it up.

 

“I’m aware that Michael Stephens has been trying to develop his wrestling style since his return,” Francis notes, “but then again so is Rickmen. I’m not holding out for a technical classic, but we might get a little more than we would have done a year ago.”

 

Andrew Rickmen has limited mobility, bent forward as he is and with his arms neutralised. However, he didn’t get his wrestling name for nothing and with a resilience to pain that could normally only be achieved with a local anaesthetic he starts leaning backwards, gritting his teeth until his upper body is more or less upright again! From there he is able to start shuffling his legs, trying to shift his body across the canvas towards the ropes. Stephens seems content to let his opponent do it, probably figuring that Rickmen is expending enough energy to make it a worthwhile tradeoff. After a few seconds the Insane Luchadore does reach the sanctuary of the cables and Warner begins his count; Stephens releases his hold after ‘ONE’ and rolls away, coming back to his feet to be ready for any new Rickmen offensive. However, the Insane Luchadore doesn’t come after him straight away… and Michael Stephens extends one black-nailed hand.

 

“Well now, this is interesting,” Mak Francis says as Rickmen looks first at the hand, then up at his opponent’s face, “Stephens shook hands with Sean Davis his former stablemate and David Cross whom he’d never really had much interactions with except a couple of tag matches, but these two have been in some wars!”

 

The Insane Luchadore doesn’t seem all that sure about the whole deal, clearly not trusting his opponent, but Stephens doesn’t move.

 

“It would serve Rickmen right if Toxxic did sucker punch him after how he started the match,” King snorts.

 

Uncertain for one of the first times in the ring, Rickmen looks around at the crowd. As could be expected, some are arguing for and some against, and overall not providing much in the way of guidance for the man from Easton. Finally IL shrugs and, not without a little hesitation, extends his hand to meet Stephens’. Their hands clasp…

 

…they shake…

 

…and they withdraw their hands without coming to blows.

 

“YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAA-”

 

-and then they both use their non-shaking left hands to punch each other in the temple at exactly the same time!

 

“-AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

The crowd seems equally happy with this outcome; each man staggers back, shaking their heads to try and clear them, and as the camera catches both of them they both start grinning slightly ruefully. Rickmen seems to recover a split second sooner and charges at his opponent, but Stephens takes him over with an armdrag! IL rolls back up to his feet and as Mike comes at him looking to capitalise the American returns the favour, but he holds onto Stephens’ arm and leans on it to try and pin his opponent to the mat. Stephens has other ideas about that however and he reaches back and up with his legs, locking them around Rickmen’s head and dragging the veteran down into a headscissors with the crown of his head pointing down to the mat. If this position is uncomfortable for Rickmen he shows no sign of it; instead the man from Easton seems to view it as a mere inconvenience and begins methodically prying at Stephens’ legs, trying to find some way of loosening his opponent’s grip. When that comes to nothing he performs a headstand, taking Stephens off-guard, before pushing his weight forwards so he comes down on top of the Englishman and finally freeing his head! As an added bonus he drives Stephens’ shoulders into the mat…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…but Michael Stephens bridges up, grabs Rickmen around the waist and manages to twist around until his body is over his opponent’s, then twists around again to hook his arms underneath the Insane Luchadore’s and haul the former HGC and ICTV Champion over his head, down into a backslide pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…but Rickmen manages to roll his weight backwards off his shoulders and comes to his knees, just in time for Stephens to wrap his right arm around the American’s neck and then pivot his hips to take the Ill One back to the mat with a headlock takeover. For a moment Rickmen’s shoulders are on the mat again…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TW-

-but the Insane Luchadore isn’t going to be caught off-guard and he rolls his shoulder up. Stephens cinches the headlock in tighter, not willing to give his opponent an inch more breathing room than absolutely necessary. Rickmen wraps his arms around Stephens’ waist and tries to haul the Sensation over onto his shoulders for a pin of his own, but Mike drops his weight as far as he can and sprawls his legs to make the Insane Luchadore’s job as hard as possible. The Ill One does his best, but with Stephens squeezing his head it’s just too much effort and he relaxes his grip.

 

“Everything Michael Stephens has done so far has been targeted at the Insane Luchadore’s head and neck,” Francis notes, “equally good for setting up the Sunny In England or the RTF II that we saw him use to defeat David Cross.”

 

“Or for breaking it,” Suicide King says with far too much hope.

 

Rickmen tried the cunning way out of his predicament; now he goes for the brute force effort and begins hammering blows into the back of Stephens’ head! He can’t see exactly where he’s aiming which makes the whole thing a little inexact, but then the Insane Luchadore was never a proponent of technical crispness anyway. The force of the blows raining down on the back of his neck cause Stephens to lean forwards and the Insane Luchadore takes this chance to start shifting his position. He manages to get his legs partially under him and begins to push upwards, trying to get back to a vertical base. Stephens realises what's going on and tries to fix his error by leaning back onto the headlock as much as he can but Rickmen is not to be denied, and after a few seconds' struggle he's back on his feet! Stephens still has control of his head however, so Rickmen fires one, two, three forearms into his opponent's ribs and then tries to push Stephens off him into the ropes... but the Englishman kills his momentum, tightens up on the headlock and then pivots his hips to take the Insane Luchadore back over onto the mat.

 

*BANG!*

 

"Mak, has Charlie Matthews shaved his chest and lost about 100lbs?" King asks.

 

"My thinking is that Michael Stephens doesn't want to expend any more effort than necessary to win this match, given the gruelling Last Man Standing match he knows he has on Sunday," the Franchise replies.

 

Insane Luchadore tries for a headscissors this time, forcing Stephens to raises his left arm to block it; this allows Rickmen a little more breathing room, and the man from Easton capitalises by managing to rolls Stephens over and onto his shoulders for a pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...but Mike rolls back all the way, losing the headlock but removing his shoulders from the canvas. He comes to his feet quicker than Rickmen, whose head is spinning after so long in the headlock, and the Englishman pounces on his opponent to apply a front facelock.

 

"Oh, Jesus..." King mutters, forseeing another long period of wear-down holds, but Stephens proves the Gambling Man wrong by taking hold of Rickmen's arm and spinning, bringing his opponent down to the mat with a swinging neckbreaker. The Insane Luchadore grunts in pain on landing but Stephens isn't done, rolling to bring himself back to his feet and hauling Rickmen with him. This time the Sensation twists around until he's back-to-back with his opponent before sitting out with a hangman's neckbreaker, then clambering on top of Rickmen to make the pin immediately after impact. Brian Warner drops to count...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...but the Ill One fires a shoulder off the canvas before Warner can even think about getting to three! Stephens rolls his eyes and starts getting up, pulling Rickmen with him once more, then applies a double underhook.

 

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

However, despite the Korean crowd's excitement at the prospect of seeing the RTF II that defeated David Cross the Insane Luchadore has other ideas, and he forces his way upwards to send Stephens flying over his head with a back bodydrop! This time it is Rickmen who is quicker off the mark, and as Stephens starts to get back up the Psychotic Hero grabs him in a vague approximation of a Muay Thai clinch and starts firing alternate knees up into his opponent's face!

 

*BANG!*

 

"UNNNGGGHHH!" the crowd bellows in response.

 

*BANG!*

 

"UNNNGGGHHH!"

 

*BANG!*

 

"UNNNGGGHHH!"

 

*BANG!*

 

"UNNNGGGHHH!"

 

Rickmen pauses for a moment, readies himself, then jumps up and rams both knees into Stephens' face!

 

*BANG!*

 

"UUUNNNNNNGGGGGGHHHHHH!!"

 

Stephens topples backwards to the mat and Rickmen dives on top of him, hooking the leg as he does so...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

-but Stephens kicks out! The Insane Luchadore queries the count of Brian Warner but still follows up fairly quickly, grabbing Stephens non-too-gently by the hair and hauling him up to his feet. Warner warns Rickmen about these dubious tactics but the Ill One ignores him, instead applying a front facelock and throwing Stephens' arm over his shoulder before grabbing the waist of the Englishman's pants and lifting him into the air...

 

...holding him vertical...

 

...and spiking him down with a brainbuster!

 

*CRUNCH!*

 

"Ooh," Mak winces in sympathy, "I think Michael Stephens might be a couple of inches shorter now!" The Insane Luchadore doesn't go for the pin though; instead the longest-serving competitor on the active roster gets right back to his feet and heads for the nearest corner where he starts climbing. It only takes a second for him to reach the top buckle, at which point he spreads his arms wide...

 

"LOOOOOOOOOOOOCH!"

 

"LOOOOOOOOOOOOCH!"

 

Rickmen grins -slightly wildly, but it's still recognisable as a grin- at the show of support from the Korean fans, then backflips off the top buckle with a moonsault!

 

*WHAM!*

 

The Psychotic Hero lands squarely on top of his target and Brian Warner drops to make the count as the slightly-winded Luchadore hooks the leg...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-

-but Michael Stephens kicks out again! This time Rickmen looks more impatiently at Brian Warner, clearly eager for his first ever win over the Brit, but with the referee maintaining that it was only two the Insane Luchador grabs Stephens by the head again and hauls him up to his knees. He fires one right hand down, then another, then turns and runs for the ropes, rebounding for a basement dropkick...

 

...that never comes to pass, as Stephens staggers to his feet, then launches himself feetfirst at Rickmen's legs, connecting with a soccer tackle that sees him scythe the Insane Luchadore's legs from under him and send the American tumbling head over heels to the mat!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

"FOUL!" King bawls, "he didn't play the ball!"

 

"There is no ball!" Francis says in exasperation.

 

"And your point is?"

 

Rickmen and Stephens both stagger up to their feet, the Englishman clearly scrambled in the head while the Insane Luchadore still has a sore neck from earlier and is now limping noticeably. However, it's the American who swings first, launching a right hand...

 

...that Stephens blocks, catching it on his left arm. Rickmen tries a left hand and Stephens blocks that one too! The Insane Luchadore swings again with his right, but Stephens ducks under this and then as Rickmen's momentum carries him around the Sensation hooks his right arm under his opponent's for a half-nelson, grabs the waist of Rickmen's cargos with his left hand and hoists the Psychotic Hero off his feet before sitting out to drive the Ill One's into the mat with a facebuster variation!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

The Korean crowd are just as happy to see Michael Stephens doing well as they are to cheer his opponent, but Stephens doesn't give any sign that he's heard them as he rolls Rickmen over onto his back to make the cover...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...but the hardy Pennsylvanian kicks out again! Stephens growls in annoyance and grabs Rickmen before hauling him to his feet, grabbing his opponent's head in both hands and delivering a headbutt...

 

*CRUNCH!*

 

...that doesn't have quite the desired effect, as both men turn away from each other, each one clutching their own skull!

 

"We all know how hard the Insane Luchadore's head is," Mak quips, "but it looks like Michael Stephens just found out the hard way!"

 

Rickmen doesn't seem all that happy at being headbutted, so as he turns around he makes another attempt to punch Stephens in the face. However, as before Stephens blocks the right hand... blocks the left hand... but this time the Insane Luchadore doesn't go for another orthodix right hand, instead pivoting round to deliver a fizzing spinning backfist...

 

...that Michael Stephens ducks! And while he's down there, he headbutts Rickmen in the gut!

 

'OOF!'

 

With the Insane Luchador doubled over in front of him Michael Stephens grabs a front facelock and holds his right arm out to the side, then brings it whipping across and down to comlete the turning elbow drive bulldog and mash Rickmen's face into the canvas again!

 

*BANG!*

 

"Unfinished Business!" Francis calls, "and this could be curtains for Andrew Rickmen!" Stephens certainly hopes so, as he rolls the Insane Luchadore over onto his back...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-

-but Rickmen kicks out!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

"LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCH!"

 

"LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCH!"

 

Michael Stephens is very unimpressed with referee Warner's count, but he swallows it with some effort (don't read anything into that you dirty bastards) and leaves Rickmen where he is, instead heading for the nearest turnbuckles. He steps out to the apron and begins to climb, reaching the top rope and raising both arms above his head for a little extra 'whip' on the move... then comes off with the rolling guillotine legdrop known as the Hangover!

 

*WHAM!*

 

...the rolling guillotine legdrop that misses.

 

"Insane Luchador moved!" Mak barks, "whether playing possum or just through sheer instinct, he dodged the Hangover and could have a chance to capitalise!"

 

"Rickmen dodging a Hangover?" King queries, "there's a first time for everything!"

 

Michael Stephens gets gingerly to his feet, his backside hurting (and don't read anything into that, either) after a painful landing with nothing to show for it. Meanwhile the Insane Luchadore is also up, draws his right fist back... and fires a kick into Stephens' gut instead! Then he grabs a front facelock...

 

*BANG!*

 

"Evenflow DDT!" Francis roars, "this one's over! The Insane Luchadore could be about to score a MAJOR upset-"

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

"-over the man about to challenge-"

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

"-for the World Heavyweight Title!"

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

"You're shitting me!?" King exclaims as Michael Stephens just, just gets his shoulder up, "he kicked out? I mean, I know it's only Rickmen, but Jesus..."

 

Michael Stephens doesn't seem to be in much of a condition to do anything else impressive though, as the Sensation is hauled up by his hair. The Insane Luchadore is fuming, unable to believe that the Evenflow DDT didn't work, the same move that has won him so many vic- well, some victories anyway. Accordingly, Rickmen hooks Stephens as if for a vertical suplex, but then reaches down to hook one leg...

 

"Looks like IL's going for a Fisherman's Buster!" Mak says.

 

...and the Ill One lifts, but just as he foot leaves the floor Michael Stephens fires left hands into Rickmen's ribs! The blows knock the Psychotic Hero and causes him to drop Stephens back to a standing position (still on one foot, admittedly). IL hasn't given up yet though and he tries again... but Stephens fires the punches in again, and this time when Rickmen is forced to lower him he manages to free himself from the American's clutches, then places his head beneath Rickmen's chin and sits out with a jawbreaker!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

The Insane Luchador staggers back and Stephens rises wearily to his feet, then fires a kick into his oppnent's gut, places Rickmen in a standing headscissors and underhooks both arms.

 

"Stephens Shock Syndrome?" Mak asks.

 

"Demonstar Driver?" King fires back.

 

...but neither prediction comes true, as Rickmen breaks Stephens' grip and free both his arms, then hooks them behind his opponent's knees and pushes, dumping the Englishman onto his back. From there Rickmen looks behind him and sees some turnbuckles, decides to return the favour from the beginning of the match and hooks one of Mike's legs under each arm before falling backwards to send the former World Champion flying through the air with a slingshot...

 

*whump*

 

...but Stephens readjusts in mid-air and lands on the second buckle!

 

"What agility, at this stage in the match!" Francis says, impressed despite himself.

 

"What a fluke!" King returns.

 

The Insane Luchadore gets back to his feet and turns around, expecting to see Stephens staggering around holding his head... but instead the Sensation backflips off the second buckle, grabbing Rickmen's head on the way over and driving the back of the Insane Luchadore's skull into the canvas!

 

*WHAM!*

 

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

"SUNNY IN ENGLAND!" Francis bellows as Stephens hooks both of his opponent's legs, one with his right arm and one with his own right leg, then rolls into the cover...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

"Ladies and gentlemen," Funyon booms over the mass of cheers, "here is your winner; MIIIIIIIIIII-CHAEL... STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-PHENS!!"

 

"The Insane Luchadore put up a great fight, and we all know he never does anything else," Francis says, "but in the end Michael Stephens was too innovative, turning defence into attack in an instant with the Sunny In England. But he's going to need every shred of innovation he can muster this Sunday, when he faces Landon Maddix for the World Heavyweight Title!"

 

As 'Rookie' rolls out through the evening air Michael Stephens has his arm raised in the air by Brian Warner, but the Englishman breaks it off to offer his hand to the Insane Luchadore. Rickmen, brains still slightly scrambled, probably takes it more out of instinct than anything else but Stephens hauls him to his feet and raises his opponents' arm in the air in a gesture of respect before rolling out of the ring and heading towards the back as we

 

 

 

FADE OUT

Edited June 7, 2006 by chirs3

[chirs3 0]

Smarkdown comes back from a commercial for Winston & Sons Giraffe Repair, Fixing Your Broken Giraffes Since 1372. The crowd packed around the Namdaemun Gate remains raucous, partly due to toxic laughing gas being sprayed at five minute intervals, but also the wrestling has been damn good. Don't take my word for it, take Mak Francis' word.

 

"Welcome back to Smarkdown, live from the front lawn of the Namdaemun Gate in Seoul, South Korea! We've had some great matches so far, and now it's just about time for some tag team action," Francis explains.

 

"The Dead Precedents are going to literally murder The New Doomtopians, I'm telling you," King replies.

 

"I doubt that such a thing would be allowed to occur, but if they do, then they'd be the new tag team champions, as The New Doomtopians are defending their newly won gold tonight. This match was set up on Lockdown last week, when The Dead Precedents became number one contenders, and The New Doomtopians defeated the former champions, JJ Johnson and Spike Jenkins. I'm not sure why this match isn't being saved for Thirteenth Hour, but I'm sure that it not being in a Pay Per View setting won't diminish the quality of the action," Mak states.

 

"Maybe The Dead Precedents have some Oat Toast thing set up for Sunday," King says.

 

"Ugh, don't get me started on that shit. You know, I think those morons are the only people to even talk about that other federation. Hell, before they brought it up, I thought it had gone under."

 

"You do know why nobody else talks about it, right?" King asks.

 

"Because it fucking sucks whale dick?" Francis ponders.

 

"Exactly right. It fucking sucks whale dick."

 

Before King and Mak can further discuss the shittiness of OAOAST, Metallica's "Welcome Home (Sanatorium)" rips over the speakers. Wayne Blank walks out, big brother Bruce right behind him. Wayne leads Bruce down to the ring, then jogs to the back as Bruce rolls inside. Blank rises to his feet and the lights go out. A blood red spotlight illuminates the center of the ring to reveal Bloodshed. The lights snap back on and The Dead Precedents begin to plot out the match at hand.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall, and is for the Smarks Wrestling Federation tag team championship! Introducing first, standing the ring, the challengers! Weighing in at five hundred, twenty-five pounds, Bruce Blank and Bloodshed, The Dead Precedents!" Funyon exclaims.

 

The lights quickly change to orange as Metallica is usurped by Incredibad's "Just 2 Guyz". The Doomtopian Destroyer and Jimmy the Doom emerge first, with Lois the Unethical, burdened by both tag titles, several steps behind.

 

"And their opponents, the champions! Being accompanied by Lois the Unethical, they weigh five hundred, fifteen pounds and hail from Doomopolis, Doomtopia. The Straight-Bread Sensation, Jimmy the Doom, and the Doomtopian Destroyer, they are The New Doomtopians!" Funyon shouts.

 

Jimmy and the Doomstroyer roll inside the ring while Lois makes her way around to hand the belts off to Funyon. After a few seconds of discussion, the Straight-Bread Sensation exits the ring, leaving the Doomstroyer inside with Blank. Referee Nick Soapdish checks both men for concealed weapons, but is unable to find anything, so he calls for the bell.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

The two big men circle, trying to find an opening to exploit. The Doomstroyer fires off a right hook that cracks Blank in the jaw. Bruce shakes off the blow and drives a forearm into the Doomtopian's face. The Destroyer stumbles backwards, and Blank presses forward with a stiff right jab. Blank grabs the Doomtopian Destroyer by the arm and whips him to the ropes. The champ bounces back and takes to the air, but Bruce slams a double axhandle into his gut in mid-air. Blank slips behind the Doomstroyer, wraps him up, and yanks the Doomtopian to the mat with a Russian leg sweep. Bruce climbs off the mat and begins lacing into the Destroyer with stomps. Soapdish tries to drag Blank off of the Doomtopian, but is unable to budge the big guy.

 

"Bruce Blank has taken firm control of this match and is stomping the life out of the Doomtopian Destroyer right now," Francis states.

 

"It really looks like Blank is trying to kick his whale fellating ways by kicking some ass," King comments.

 

"It'll take a lot more than stomping the Doomstroyer to stop Blank from sucking whale cock," Mak points out.

 

"So very true, Mak. Winning the tag titles would help a lot, though," King notes.

 

Blank remains at the Doomstroyer's side, but not in a concerned friend role, more of a stomping the shit out of an opponent role. Jimmy the Doom, unable to contain his infamous Doomtopian temper, hops into the ring and sprints for Bruce. The 'King of Pain' spies the Straight-Bread Sensation heading for him, and Blank decides to be courteous and greets Doom with a big boot to the face.

 

GRAVIMETER!

 

Jimmy hits the deck, or more accurately, the mat, but quickly springs back to his feet. Doom stares up at Blank and smacks him with a double palm thrust to the jaw. Bruce hardly moves as a result of the blow, but he moves plenty to nail Jimmy with a right cross. Doom moves as well, away from Blank, for a moment before putting on the brakes. Jimmy closes the distance in a second and nails the 'Trailer Park Messiah' with a corkscrew back elbow. Once again, Bruce barely reacts to the strike, but before he can retaliate, Nick Soapdish grabs Doom around the waist and drags him towards The New Doomtopians' corner. Meanwhile, what with the distractions, Bloodshed has had ample time to enter the ring and size up the Doomstroyer, currently on all fours. Bloodshed bounces off the ropes and fires a dropkick into the top of the Destroyer's head.

 

"Sneaky bit of double teaming by The Dead Precedents, though I don't think Bruce Blank knows it," Mak says.

 

"It sure as hell worked better than whatever Jimmy the Doom just did. He hardly phased Blank with that attack," King points out.

 

"It is hard to rock a big guy like Blank, but the same can be said of Doom," Francis adds.

 

"That's for sure. However, if Bloodshed and Jimmy the Doom start trading blows, we might be here for a while," the Heartbreaker notes.

 

Blank turns around, sees the Destroyer flat on his back, and shakes out his meaty right arm. Bruce hauls the Doomtopian off the mat, grabs him by the wrist, and pulls him in for a short-arm clothesline. The Doomstroyer manages to duck under and he clasps his hands together, forcing Blank's own arm across his throat.

 

"That's the same choke hold the Doomtopian Destroyer used last week against 'Hollywood' Spike Jenkins!" Francis exclaims.

 

"It didn't work last time and it won't work now," King mutters.

 

"What makes you so sure? Bruce Blank is nowhere near the technical skill level of Spike Jenkins," Mak points out.

 

"Oh, of course not! But, Blank is a lot stronger than Jenkins, and besides, JJ Johnson broke the hold last week, and I would imagine that Bloodshed would do the same if Bruce doesn't manage to do it on his own," King states.

 

Blank flails as Soapdish asks the big Alabaman if he'd like to submit. Bruce nearly smacks Nick for asking such a question, but just misses, keeping the match going. Blank grabs at the Doomstroyer's mask and tries to force his opponent's head away, but he's at too awkward an angle to get much strength behind the effort. Blank starts to sag a bit, which prompts the Doomstroyer to tighten his grip, as well as prompt Bloodshed to finally intervene. Bloodshed walks up to the Doomstroyer and peppers him with lefts and rights to the face. Unable to take the onslaught any more, the Doomtopian sweeps Blank to the mat and nails Bloodshed with a left hook, a right cross, and then a back hand smack that sends Alan Clark on his ass and sliding across the mat.

 

EBULIENT!

 

"Pimp smack yo dumb ass! He's the Juggernaut, bitch!" Francis shouts.

 

"No, he's the Doomstroyer, bitch!" King corrects.

 

Blood trickling down his face, the Apostle climbs to his feet and charges the Destroyer. Bloodshed ducks under a clothesline, spins around, and boots the big Doomtopian in the stomach. Clark kicks the Doomstroyer again, cinches in a front facelock, and sends him to the mat with a DDT. At that moment, Jimmy the Doom enters the ring, but is pushed back outside by Nick Soapdish, desperate to regain control of the match. The referee forces Bloodshed back to his corner as well, leaving a downed Doomstroyer and kneeling Blank in the ring. Bruce gets to his feet, a bit woozy from the choke, and tags in Bloodshed, who is living up to his name very well. Bloodshed looks down at the Doomstroyer and rolls him over. The Apostle turns his back on the Doomtopian and back flips, landing a moonsault on the champion, and staying down for a lateral press.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TW-No!

 

"Shoulder up from the Doomtopian Destroyer, and he probably needs to tag in Jimmy the Doom," Francis states.

 

"I hope he doesn't. It would be much easier for The Dead Precedents to win the tag titles with the Doomstroyer in the ring," King laments.

 

Bloodshed pulls the Doomstroyer off the mat and knees him in the stomach. Bloodshed slaps on a front facelock, but is unable to execute his intended manuever as the Doomtopian Destroyer lifts him up and drives Bloodshed into the mat with a spinebuster. The Destroyer drags Clark back to his feet and tosses him at The New Doomtopians' corner. The Doomtopian staggers after the Apostle and tags in the Straight-Bread Sensation. Jimmy remains outside the ring momentarily, as both he and the Doomstroyer land right hands to Bloodshed's face at the same time.

 

IGNOMINY!

 

Bloodshed stumbles out of the corner, and gets whipped into the ropes by the Doomstroyer. Jimmy vaults into the ring and is grabbed around the waist by the Destroyer. The Apostle bounces back and the Doomtopian Destroyer flings the Straight-Breader at him.

 

TINTINNABULATION!

 

"What a flying kick from Jimmy the Doom, with a nice assist from the Doomtopian Destroyer. The New Doomtopians might be getting the upperhand now," Mak says.

 

"Damn you, God! What have I done wrong to be punished so?!" King shouts.

 

"Uh, just about your entire wrestling career?" Francis offers.

 

"Oh, yeah, that. Still, it's not fair," the Heartbreaker grumbles.

 

The Doomstroyer exits the ring before Soapdish can begin to threaten disqualification in an angry rant, and Jimmy makes a lateral press on the downed and bloodier Clark.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO-No!

 

"And Bloodshed kicks out! He's a very tough nut to crack," Mak says.

 

"Sure, jst ask Wayne Blank," King mumbles.

 

"What was that?" Francis asks.

 

"Oh, you know, the usual. Your mother being fat and promiscuous and you being a useless cripple," King replies nonchalantly.

 

Doom pulls Bloodshed into a seated position, gets down on one knee behind the Apostle, and sinks in a tight head vice. Soapdish curses under his breath, knowing what's going to happen next, and asks Bloodshed if he'd like to submit. Alan smirks and is barely able to restrain himself from flat-out laughin in the referee's face, clearly not giving Jimmy's hold any respect, as well he should. Bloodshed plants both hands on the mat and tries to push himself up, but the Straight-Bread Sensation has the advantage of leverage, not to mention pure strength. The two combined make for an annoying pickle Bloodshed currently finds himself in. Clark pulls his legs towards his body, trying to switch to a kneeling pose, and he manages to do so. However, that just makes is child's play for Jimmy the Doom to force Bloodshed forward, trapping him in a back-mounted head vice. Once more Soapdish questions Bloodshed's willingness to continue, and once again, is laughed at.

 

"Wow, a head vice. How deadly," Mak deadpans.

 

"Oh, my, yes. Bloodshed must be unnaturally tough to have not yet submitted to such a dangerous and cripplingly painful hold," King adds.

 

"And now it's back-mounted to boot," the Franchise points out.

 

"Does that even make a difference?" King asks quietly.

 

"Probably not, I mean, Doom isn't even pulling back on Bloodshed's head to strain the neck," Mak replies in sotto-voce.

 

Slightly worried that the seemingly-innocuous hold is draining his partner's energy, Blank enters the ring, a movement that catches both Soapdish and the Doomstroyer's attention. The ref walks away from his post in front of Bloodshed, while the Doomtopian Destroyer steps in front of the Straight-Bread Sensation, making it known to Bruce that any attempted break up of the submission would require going through the beefy bodyguard. Bruce contemplates charging anyway, but Soapdish is nearly ready to begin his disqualifying count, so the 'King of Pain' decides to let Bloodshed find a way out. The Doomstroyer walks back to the corner, but stops by Jimmy and kneels down, presumably to whisper some strategic idea to his partner. Soapdish turns around to find everything the way it was, Bloodshed trapped in a back-mounted head vice at the hands of Jimmy the Doom, and the Doomtopian Destroyer outside the ring, tag rope looped around his wrist. Suddenly, the Straight-Breader flips Bloodshed over, and using his lengthy frame, arches out to form the smallest of bridges. Nick slides down to count the pin attempt.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

TH-No!

 

Bloodshed rolls over, but Doom uses the momentum to roll once more, putting Clark's shoulders flush against the mat again.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

TH-No!

 

The Apostle plants one hand on the mat and shoves, breaking the pin and putting himself within reach of the ropes. Bloodshed grabs hold of the bottom strand, but before Soapdish can register it, the Doomstroyer stomps on Alan's hand. Clark pulls his limb back in, and the Straight-Bread Sensation manages to roll him over once more.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THRE-No!

 

"Another kick out by Bloodshed! I wasn't even aware that a bridge could be made from a head vice, but Jimmy the Doom was really stretching his body to its fullest," Mak states.

 

"I think that if Bloodshed lost a match due to a bridged head vice, he should be forced to jump off a cliff. Bruce Blank would probably make him," King replies.

 

"It is odd, but Jimmy the Doom is a pretty competent wrestler at times. He did challenge for the International title on Battleground, and gave then-champion Wildchild a run for his money," Francis points out.

 

"I don't care! It's a fuckin' head vice!" King exclaims.

 

Doom shimmies his body towards Bloodshed's head, getting a better grip on his opponent, something very important with all of the blood in the ring, mostly on Bloodshed's cranium. Jimmy pulls back on the Apostle, putting him first in a kneeling position, then finally back to a vertical base. Walking backwards, the Straight-Bread Sensation drags Clark towards The New Doomtopians' corner, where the Doomstroyer has his right hand raised in the air, perhaps in an attempt to absorb or channel the power of past Doomtopians. Jimmy whips around just as the Doomtopian Destroyer lashes out with a vicious punch, connecting not with Bloodshed's heart, but the middle of his face.

 

"HAVA NAGILA!"

 

UNGULATE!

 

The force of the blow knocks both Bloodshed and Jimmy backwards, and Doom rolls up the Apostle, switching from a head vice to a more standard rear waistlock. Blank is already in the ring as Soapdish gets down to count the pin.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bruce is half-way to Doom and Bloodshed, while the Doomstroyer still hasn't realized the 'Trailer Park Messiah' is in the ring.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Doomtopian Destroyer finally notices Blank in the ring and climbs in while Bruce remains on course.

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE-NO!

 

"Bruce saved Bloodshed!" Mak screams. "He broke up that bridge, and this match continues!"

 

"Thank you, sweet fancy Moses!" King yells.

 

Both Nick Soapdish and and Jimmy the Doom are on their feet, and both, along with the Doomstroyer, are livid. Blank merely shrugs as Doom closes in and pokes him in the throat with the tips of his fingers. Bruce sputters and gags as Jimmy slips behind. The Straight-Bread Sensation grabs the 'King of Pain' in a reverse facelock as the Doomstroyer snares Bruce's legs. The New Doomtopians hoist Blank off the mat and drive him into the canvas.

 

"Spiked Doom Driver! Of sorts," Francis says.

 

"Ah, dumping a guy on his head. Now that's some fine teamwork. Of course, it should be The Dead Precedents doing it, but I appreciate good double teaming regardless of who does it," King replies.

 

The New Doomtopians drag Bloodshed back to their corner and the Doomstroyer exits the ring. It's only momentarily as Jimmy tags him in. The Doomstroyer pulls Bloodshed up and places Clark on his shoulders while the Straight-Bread Sensation vaults to the top rope. The Destroyer backs up, giving Jimmy ample room, who then jumps off, grabbing the Apostle by the head. At the same time, the Doomtopian Destroyer shoves Bloodshed forward and sits out. Everything culminates in Bloodshed getting his face smashed into the mat. Jimmy slides outside the ring and the Doomstroyer flips Clark over for a pin.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Referee Nick Soapdish jumps up and signals for the bell.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of this match, and still Smarks Wrestling Federation tag team champions, The New Doomtopians!" Funyon yells.

 

Incredibad's "Just 2 Guyz" blares over the speakers again as Lois the Unethical hands the titles to the two male Doomtopians.

 

"The champions retain in a thrilling match! I'm not sure what that move was that won them the match, but I did spot the Doom Factor," Mak notes.

 

"It's probably called something stupid like the Potato Lobster Doorknob," King grumbles. "And damn Bruce Blank and Bloodshed for losing to those dorks."

 

The champions head back to celebrate, leaving The Dead Precedents to play the blame game as Smarkdown fades to a commercial.

[chirs3 0]

Being on the front lawn of the Seoul Namdaemun Gate leaves little room for offices and arena corridors for one to be walking through. Nevertheless there are a few tents set up for the sake of those such as Joseph Peters and other high-rankers, one of which includes a seven foot behemoth. Striding from a hastily set-up tent with "Head of Security" written on it, the Hell Machine is patrolling the fenced off areas where only SWF staff and security are allowed to tread, seeking a certain figure. Giving little pause to speak to other superstars, the giant checks inside a tent here and a tent there, apparently with no luck whatsoever.

 

"Janus!"

 

The voice of Joseph Peters makes the Australian tilt their head and turn, and were they wearing their trenchcoat it would billow out behind them. But the giant wears a suave white tuxedo, complete with purple shirt and red tie. Following the call of the SWF commissioner, the giant follows Peters into his tent where they find the man sitting now sitting behind his desk, fingers steepled. Knowing he has no chance of trying to sound angry and intimidating to a seven foot behemoth, Peters simply spreads his hands over his desk in a 'why me?' gesture before speaking again.

 

"Why didn't you stop Spike from doing what he did last show?"

 

"It's not in our contract."

 

"Your contract..." Peters begins to speak, but Janus cuts him off by simply resting a hand on his desk.

 

"Our contract is to ensure no unwanted faces or illegal individual make entrance into the designated areas the show is taking place in. It also states we will do our best to ensure that there are no deliberate injurings of SWF superstars by others. And while she had the correct identification to enter the show, Rashelle is not an SWF superstar. She does not fall under our jurisdiction."

 

"You don't care that a young woman..."

 

"No, Peters. We don't." the giant answers flatly, red eyes gleaming. "And now I have a question for you. Aecas?"

 

"Not booked this show. No-one's seen him."

 

With a low grunt, the Hell Machine turns away from the commissioner and stalks back out of the tent. Having searched the area to little luck, they make their way back towards their own tent, which now has a figure standing outside it. She wears a sleek blue tuxedo with a white shirt and black tie, and she adjusts it absently before looking up at the giant as they approach, eyes hidden behind dark glasses as she brushes a hand through long purple-and-black hair. The seven foot Australian stops briefly to confer with her, and leans over for her to speak into their ear, before nodding their head and proceeding into his tent.

 

Within the tent is a small desk quickly set up for the Head of Security to sit at, and they do just that, eyeing the object sitting there. It is an indiscriminate box, with no markings save for the fact it was addressed to them, and possessed no return address. The Hell Machine finally gives in and opens the box, reaching within and pulling out a small card. They unfold it and peers at the writing therein, raising an eyebrow. Somewhere in the depths of their united mind, Terrence and Janus give each other an odd look, and then the big man puts the card down on the table.

 

"Gone to Japan. Look after him for me." the big man rumbles, finally opening the rest of the box. The first thing revealed is a sparkling barbed wire halo, and then the soft gleaming red petals of a rose. A little black bow tie affixed to the thorny stem follows, and the rest of the box falls away to show a ceramic pot.

 

Does this surprise you at all, Terrence?

 

Not particularly.

 

For the object sitting on his desk?

 

Reggie.

Edited June 6, 2006 by chirs3

[chirs3 0]

Smarkdown! SWF’s premier wrestling show returns to the Namdaemun Gate where crazy Korean’s from both the North and the South have gathered to watch the spectacle that is professional wrestling. They watched a Seoul Survivor rise above those who were lost and they may have observed the reincarnation of a depleted tag team division. Above all else they stood, sat, and cheered there way through something that was new, hip, and original. As the light from a full moon polishes the nearby horizon, a certain batch of excitement has begun to overthrow the audience. From those who watch from the roof of the gate to those who zoom in from the giant skyscrapers that are in close proximity with Seoul, everyone has realized that tonight’s main event does have a familiar scent to it. A graceful rehashing if you will. It may not be fronted by bling bling or hidden behind the shadow of an over the top stipulation, but one thing is for sure. That one thing poisons the atmosphere with the exact same enthusiasm that the people have for what is to come. This toxin unlike other poisons is full proof. Those lucky enough to already see the venom in action can attest to how fatal it is. They know that this poison…this remedy for tragic slumber will do what it has always done. It will deliver the goods.

 

Here we go again motherfuckers.

 

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

 

“As you can already tell due to JJ Johnson’s theme music, we are back. This is it. A match worthy of any PPV extravaganza has arrived on FREE TV, and I couldn’t be more excited. Listen to these people. This is awesome.” Mak welcomes the television viewers back from commercial while in mid mark out.

 

“Jesus Mak it’s not like you’ve got feeling back in your legs or anything. Sure tonight’s main event is the number one ticket for everything PRIME TIME, but look at you. You’re sweating for crying out loud.”

 

“Can you blame me?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Oh. Well that doesn’t matter. These two have had multiple wars throughout their career, and each one has arguably stole the show. It’s gone through the hardcore division past the Cruiserweight Title, and now it’s here once again. This one isn’t about titles or egos. This has pride written all over it.”

 

“And ratings. Don’t forget ratings.” The Suicide King chimes in.

 

The fog like smoke that emanates from the mixed martial arts warrior’s entrance has now covered at least a ¼ of downtown Seoul where those who should be in bed are raging against their curfews. Cryptopsy’s “Crown of Horns” thunders in the background as the red and white lighting skip around at a seizure inducing pace. Stupefied by the spectacle, the Korean audience almost misses the emergence of JJ Johnson.

 

“YEEEEEAAAAAAHHHH!”

 

Almost.

 

Rather or not the emotionless shooter is taken back by such a positive response will remain unknown as the REAL Canadian Crippler jogs to the ring with his usual no nonsense demeanor. Entering the ring via between the middle and top rope, JJ Johnson ascends the nearest middle turnbuckle…taking a moment to uncharacteristically look out into the cheering…flat out screaming audience. Eliciting a larger sound from the audience, Johnson spreads his arms out for his signature crucifix taunt before stepping back down into the ring.

 

“That was quite the ovation Johnson got. It’s unbelievable that a man that used to be despised by the audience like he was is able to garner that type of response. Especially since he usually remains mute and demands respect through vicious beatings as opposed to playing to the audience like his opponent.”

 

“Mak, I will say this to you slowly. J…J…Johnson…is…not…a…good…guy. The people cheer him because of those vicious beatings he deals out.”

 

“King, you would be partly right in that assessment. However, JJ Johnson rarely cheats and usually shows respect to those who deserve it. Sure he may break their jaw, but be damned if the guy doesn’t congratulate his opponent’s on a job well done.”

 

Relaxing in a random turnbuckle, Johnson stretches with his back against the Smarktron, disinterested in watching the same damn entrance he has seen at least five times now. Of course, nothing is wrong when everyone else enjoys the show.

 

“I’M BORN!”

 

“I’M ALIVE!!”

 

“I BREATHE!”

 

“Vitamin” by Incubus opens over the exhilarated crowd who go bonkers for the Unique Youth. Sprinting out to another thunderous ovation, Zyon is all smiles as he bounces down the entrance ramp, slapping the friendly hands that surround him. With his Cruiserweight Title glistening around his waist, the youth leaps on to the ring apron. Clutching the top rope, Zyon slingshots himself into the ring with an energetic flip, landing gracefully on his feet. Turning toward the turnbuckle, Zyon begins to ascend the top rope, but painful memories against this particular competitor brings the youth back down to earth as well as the canvas. Calmly, Zyon retreats to the corner opposite his rival as he awaits further instructions.

 

“Did you see that, King? Zyon won’t even do his new signature taunt due to a previous finish in one of his many encounters with JJ Johnson.” Mak is ready and willing to help those who missed a previous bout between these two.

 

“It’s official folks, Mak has no life to speak of.” King downplays the storyline behind such an encounter.

 

Grand announcer Funyon steps into the center of the ring where he will take this party to the next level.

 

“The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is NON TITLE! Introducing first, to my right, wearing red trunks with white trim, he stands six feet and one inch tall, and is weighing in tonight at 233 pounds. Hailing from the great north, Windsor, Ontario, Canada. He is J…J…JOOOOOOOOOOOHNSON!!!!!!”

 

Stepping out from his corner, the Canadian thrusts his fist into the air in standard MMA style as the crowd breaks into a frenzy of cheers. Rather or not the paying customers cheer or jeer, Johnson maintains his yoga like concentration, ignoring who the common view as a “good guy” or a “bad guy.” While many foolishly attempt to figure out what lies beneath the cold exterior of the MMA specialist, JJ Johnson will brilliantly take a second to smack those deep in thought around. That’s what the people admire, and his opponent’s fear. He’s not here to win a popularity contest. This is a business. A business that involves dealing the opponent an immense amount of pain, and for Johnson…business is good.

 

“And his opponent!” Funyon begins, “To my left, wearing khaki colored shorts and a black T-shirt with a white Z on the front. He stands at five feet, eleven inches, and weighs in tonight at 200 pounds. Hailing from the Great Lakes region of Elkhart, Indiana. He is the REIGNING SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION!” The crowd explodes before Funyon can finish causing the professional announcer to strain his vocal chords, “He is the UNIQUE YOUTH! He is…ZYYYYYYYON!!!!!”

 

Tossing both arms that bend at the blows into the air, Zyon performs his parallel taunt that flings a bit of arrogance in the youth’s demeanor. Unlike his frosty opponent, Zyon acknowledges the deafening cheering in the background with a salute. Unbuckling his title and handing it to the exiting Funyon, Zyon begins to treat the earsplitting cheering for what it really is…background noise. Concentrating on an opponent that is far too dangerous to take lightly, the youth calmly mouths a few words toward his treacherous rival…

 

“I’m not scared of you.”

 

…And THIS is what forces JJ Johnson of all people to actually break out a smile.

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

“REFEREE KEN MASTERS HAS CALLED FOR THE BELL!”

 

“Mak, you do realize that I am less than a foot from you. Are you trying to cripple my hearing?”

 

“Sorry King, I’m just a tad bit excited that’s all.” The Franchise admits.

 

Jogging out from their respective corners, the two warriors meet in the middle of the ring where Johnson immediately looks to control the pace by tricking the youth into a collar and elbow tie up. Struggling to maintain his half of the leverage, the smaller Zyon bends at his knees, lowering himself closer to the mat.

 

“See that Mak, Johnson may have gone a little soft in my opinion, but he still can out power that spot monkey.”

 

“That is true, King. However, that’s not the case at all. Zyon is consciously bending at the knees, which makes it hard for the taller Johnson to apply a go behind for instance. Instead of grabbing the youth around the waist, Johnson would probably tackle the very oxygen we breathe.”

 

“Whatever.” Scoffs the Gambling Man.

 

Continuing his strategy of keeping the MMA specialist in front of him, Zyon drops one knee to the canvas. While Zyon’s plan is impressive, JJ Johnson soon realizes that there is no need to expend another ounce of energy on a collar and elbow tie up. With his expression changing from confused to that of the enlightened, Johnson reels the youth into a side headlock!

 

“Ok that was swift on Johnson’s part. It was as if Zyon was begging to be put in a side headlock. And because of his crouching stance, the youth can’t push the stronger Johnson away.”

 

Or can he? Straightening his knee up so that it lifts the youth into a 90-degree angle, Zyon eases both of his hands behind the uninformed martial artist, and with a grunt the Unique Youth sends the Canadian charging toward the ropes. Bouncing back with his eyebrows raised in a showing of bewilderment, Johnson scans the youth who chooses to not leave his feet. Instead, Zyon attempts to take his opponent’s head off with a clothesline that the Canadian seen coming a mile away. Ducking under the clothesline, Johnson shifts his weight around the youth, clasping both hands around his waist for a reverse waist lock.

 

“Ha! See that Mak? Zyon worked so hard to keep Johnson in front of him, and because of his own stupidity, Johnson is now behind him.”

 

The Gambling Man proves to be extra harsh on the youngster who has been put in this position many times by the technically sound suplex machine. Past experiences has taught the youth the correct way to throw the technically superior Johnson off his game. Corking his body slightly, Zyon reaches around with his outside arm that soon transforms into his inside arm as he wraps it around the head of his opponent. Sticking to his previous strategy of staying low, Zyon does just that while floating the unaware Johnson over with a headlock takedown! Remaining crouched on the mat, the technically retarded youth shoves it back into Johnson’s face as he applies a chin lock of all things!

 

“Are my eyes deceiving me?”

 

“No King, they are just fine. Zyon just surprised Johnson with his own dose of technical superiority. Now the fun part is to see how the Canadian reacts.”

 

With Ken Masters all up in his grill asking if he wishes to submit or not, Johnson is almost overjoyed at the position he finds himself in. Rolling his eyes at the hilarity of it all, the Canadian leaves the dramatics to the audience that swears that “Zyon has him now.”

 

No kids he doesn’t…not even close.

 

Ending Zyon’s fun with a simple turn of the hips and the idea that humans can stand on two feet, Johnson has forced Zyon’s offense on to him. Constructing the youth’s chin lock into an equally unskilled side headlock, Johnson mimics the youth’s earlier strategy by shoving the youngster toward the ropes. Unlike the MMA master, Zyon decides that bouncing back is much too boring for him. Springing off of the second rope, Zyon swims through the air as he turns his body so that he is facing his stupefied opponent. Swinging both feet out, the youth shocks Johnson by planting both of his feet into his rival’s chest with a corkscrew dropkick. Collapsing to the canvas, the Canadian upholds his reputation as being tougher than nails as he pops right back to his feet. Unprepared for the lightning quick youngster, JJ Johnson puts his fate in the hands of luck as he throws his arms up, guarding his face for whatever the youth has planned. And what has his plan been so far…

 

…Staying low of course. Lunging at the Ultimate Fighter, Zyon shanks Johnson with a wicked shoulder to the gut. Clutching his sternum while in mid back pedal the Ultimate Fighter recognizes that he should have known better than to guess against his unorthodox rival. Speculating the youth’s next attack would be just as difficult for the Ultimate Fighter who allows the Unique Youth to charge down the battlefield once more. However, this time Zyon isn’t the only one in the ring shuffling their feet at an amazing pace. Taking off in a dead sprint himself, Johnson looks prepared to rip Zyon’s head clean off his shoulders. The two locomotives are on a collision course of epic proportions before Johnson pulls a Zyon, and evades the destruction all together by sliding under the youth’s legs. Pushing himself right back to a vertical base as the American bounces off the ropes, Johnson hooks his arm under the youth’s, hurling him through the air and on to the canvas with a high angle hip toss!

 

“Beautiful high angle hip toss by Johnson.”

 

“High angle? Have I been retired so long that people have created variations for a hip toss?

 

“Well yes, King. You see a high angle hip toss sacrifices distance for impact.”

 

Rising to a sitting position, Zyon takes a moment to regain the breath that was just recently blown away from him due to the hip toss variation. This second is all it takes for Johnson to pounce on to the youth with a chin lock of all things…once again.

 

“These two always have a battle of one-upmanship in their matches sometime. This is looking to be no different.” Mak recalls back to their previous encounters.

 

The Seoul audience actually cheers on Johnson who with a smug look across his face loosens the chin lock as if daring the youth to counter. Obliging to the Ultimate Fighter’s arrogant mute demand, Zyon bridges directly up to a vertical base…before dropping back down on to his ass, stunning the Canadian with a modified jaw breaker. Rotating his jaw in a clockwise manor, Johnson is once again caught on his toes by the youth who smacks him with a heinous forearm to the jaw!

 

*CRACK!*

 

Back peddling away from the aggressive youth, Johnson would be smart to guard his face…the same face that is viciously smushed by a barrage of forearms. With the crowd whispering under their breath for the Unique Youth to take it to the former International Champ, Johnson spites them all as he breaks through the mold, and simply hurls the youth over the top rope and to the floor!

 

“YEEEEAH!!”

 

And the crowd goes mad.

 

King even joins in on the fun, “I wonder how long Johnson has wanted to do that. Most of their matches have been under cruiserweight rules, but JJ was all fuck that, and has now joined up with the heavyweights.”

 

“By like three pounds, King.”

 

“Well those three precious pounds allows Johnson to toss that twerp over the top rope. Those three pounds are a godsend, Mak.”

 

His momentum completely disintegrated by Johnson’s smart maneuver, Zyon rolls back into the ring, half-heartedly believing that Johnson would lunge in for the attack. Well the youth was indeed caught off guard…caught off guard by Johnson’s recently revealed morals that allow the youth back to a vertical base without the slightest hint of regret. However, it doesn’t take long for the two warriors to restart their duel as Zyon shoots in for a collar and elbow tie up, but Johnson simply swoops in and behind the Unique Youth. Startling the youth with his quickness, Johnson chucks the youth backward with a backdrop that Zyon flips out of! Landing on his feet with the grace of a priest on acid, the Cruiserweight Champion stumbles backward until the ropes behind him slows his momentum. Recoiling off those same ropes, Zyon blindly charges the more than aware Ultimate Fighter who halts the youth with a toe kick to the sternum. Underhooking one of the youth’s arms, Johnson flings the youngster backward with a ruthless snap half-hatch suplex that he naturally follows with a bridge.

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

Kickout!

 

Shooting up to a sitting position after the strong escape from the bridge, Zyon plants his hand on the canvas looking to push himself back to his feet. However, a problem arises as Johnson pivots around on his knee, locking the youth down with a top wristlock and a certain blood choke that helped win him the International Title not too long ago.

 

“Buffalo Sleeper!” King continues, “This isn’t the deadly body scissors version, but this is still effective non the less. We all seen what these did to Wildchild, and Zyon isn’t even as good of a wrestler as that spot monkey. Seriously, how can he survive this?”

 

Answering the Gambling Man’s query, Zyon with the knowledge that each gasp of breath he takes could be his last, simply drapes his leg over the bottom rope, forcing referee Ken Masters to call for a break. Releasing the youth from his torture, Johnson dances back to the center of the ring as Zyon pulls himself back up with help from the nearby ropes. Shuffling his way toward the Ultimate Fighter, Zyon foolishly swings at the defenses of the MMA artist who easily evades the strike with a crouch. Unable to ignore the opening that his opponent presents with such a wild strike, Johnson swoops in, tripping Zyon with a double-legged takedown. Choosing to go where many have gone before, Zyon tightens his legs around the body of his dangerous opponent, chaining that with a front face lock sleeper!!!

 

“Zyon is attempting what many have done before. He has Johnson trapped in his guard, and that sleeper looks to be cinched in quite well. If I didn’t know better, Johnson would have to tap out or pass out.” Mak with a little wishful thinking.

 

As wishful as it might be, it’s not out of the question as Johnson visibly struggles to break free of the youth’s trap. Of course, this is Johnson’s specialty, and he treats it as so. Spreading his legs out while rising to a more vertical stance, the Canadian strains to pull away from the youth’s sleeper. Realizing that he’s fighting a losing battle, Zyon releases the hold, hoping that the breathless Ultimate Fighter will be taken back by that strategy.

 

*CRACK!*

 

Needless to say, he was wrong.

 

Passing the youth’s guard with the intensity of a pitbull, Johnson begins to overwhelm the youth with multiple elbow shots to the face.

 

*CRACK!*

 

*CRACK!*

 

*CRACK!*

 

Looking into his rival’s woozy expression, Johnson proves to those who are in a panic that he isn’t going to treat Zyon like Janus and elbow him into oblivion. Instead, he forces the youth to his feet, Irish whipping him across the ring, and catching him on the rebound with a railgun suplex!

 

“Johnson continues to prove that he is superior to the spot monkey. Get it?”

 

“Yeah, King. Real funny and uber original on your part.” The Franchise downplays King’s attempt at humor.

 

Continuing his ravage attack on the youth, Johnson lifts the Unique Youth by his hair, jabbing him in the sternum with a sharp kick, and applying a double underhook. Flinging the youth backward with a crisp butterfly suplex, Johnson floats over on to Zyon for the cover.

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Kickout!

 

Rolling back to his feet, Zyon strides backward in an attempt to regain his bearings, but being the consistently destroyer that he is, Johnson smashes the youth under the chin with a European uppercut. With the Unique Youth in a woozy limbo, Johnson plants his knee perfectly into his rival’s sternum, doubling him over for a front face lock. Hoisting the youth into the air, the Canadian looks to deliver a textbook vertical suplex, but Zyon has other ideas as he shifts his weight, which enables him to spin out of his upside down vertical position. Landing on his feet with his next maneuver already in motion, Zyon grabs the Ultimate Fighter in a reverse cravate before descending to the mat with a neck breaker on the unshakable Johnson! Taking a moment to reclaim the energy that was lost in that exchange, both warriors reach their feet at the same time with Zyon stunning the Canadian with a relatively weak forearm. Ignoring the puny strike, Johnson fights back with three consecutive knife-edge chops to the youth’s chest!

 

*SMACK!*

 

*SMACK!*

 

*SMACK!*

 

Clutching his chest like a mother would a newborn, Zyon uses his feet to force the dangerous technician back with a toe kick to the sternum. Forlornly, Zyon’s foot doesn’t quite reach its target as the Ultimate Fighter latches on to his opponent’s foot before it comes in contact with his stomach. Perturbed on the exterior, the glad interior of the youth sends a direct message for Zyon to smack Johnson in the back of the head with an enziguri….

 

…And the youth obliges.

 

Blasting Johnson NOT in the back of the head, but more along the back of his neck, Zyon break free of the Canadian’s grasp as he immediately takes off for the ropes. Bounding off the ropes while Johnson recovers from his slight neck trauma, Zyon lunges at the Ultimate Fighter with a cross body…THAT CONNECTS! And is then directly transitioned with a simple twist of his body into an amazing power slam counter for the former International Champion. Flopping down across the youth with a lateral press, Johnson secretly knows that this won’t be enough.

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Kickout!

 

“Zyon with a strong kickout. He still has a large amount of energy to spare.”

 

“But then again Mak, so does JJ Johnson.”

 

Lifted to his feet by the strength of his opponent, Zyon stuns the Ultimate Fighter momentarily with a soft jab to the sternum as he looks to take off for the ropes once again. Agitated by the youth’s “hit and run” tactics, Johnson grabs a full hand of hair, and proceeds to whip the long hair youngster to the mat! Instinctively sitting up from the dirty plunge into the mat, Zyon doesn’t quite realize the doom he has positioned himself in.

 

*SMACK!*

 

Sending a shock throughout the youngster’s body with a brutal cowboy kick to the back, Johnson follows up the rejuvenating strike with a top wristlock and another blood sleeper that could spell the end for Zyon!!!

 

“Another Buffalo Sleeper snatched on by the aggressive suplex machine. He seems to be taking the same approach as he did with the spotty, but brilliant Wildchild. Not only does the Buffalo Sleeper keep the high flyers grounded, but it can also win Johnson the match.”

 

“Brilliant.” The Gambling Man adds earning every bit of that paycheck.

 

Struggling earlier than while he was in the previous buffalo sleeper, Zyon quickly drapes his foot under the bottom rope, which warrants the immediate break of the submission. Rushing the winded youth right back to his wobbly feet, Johnson Irish whips the American across the ring, and even with his eyes a bit teary from the sleeper he just broke out of, Zyon can notice the ropes a mile away. Springing off the middle rope, Zyon doesn’t even bother to twist his body into a variation of flips or twists. He simply flings his foot backward, hoping to catch the pitbull like Johnson off guard.

 

Then again this is Johnson’s yard…and pitbulls are always on guard in their yard.

 

Crouching under the springboard back kick that almost caught him off guard, Johnson arrogantly taps his right arm before charging down the warpath. Snapping his arm backward with cruel intensions, Johnson being the heavy hitter that he is swings for the fences…

 

…And to his disappointment and astonishment, the fence maneuvers out of the way with a simple crouch. Stalking the Canadian from behind, Zyon proceeds forward with his arms spread out, which is a definite no-no when battling the Ultimate Fighter who may very well have eyes in the back of his head.

 

*CRACK!*

 

Discharging a blind elbow into the nose of his visibly shaken opponent, Johnson sprints toward the ropes, uncharacteristically springing off the middle rope with the balance of a Zyon or a Wildchild, and stabbing the youth in the forehead region with another blind elbow! This time the impact forces the youth down on to his back, but the time limit for that is only minimal. Ascending back to his feet, slightly taken back by Johnson’s ability to be acrobatic, Zyon is unable to advance on his opponent, who is the first to advance anyway. Diving at the Unique Youth with an OUT OF NOWHERE shotgun lariat, Johnson can damn near taste the satisfaction of beheading his rival. However, once again, Zyon stays low, evading his decapitation and gaining the upper hand on his rival. Hooking his arm under Johnson’s in a reverse single arm chicken wing, Zyon wraps his arm around the Canadian’s head before descending to the mat once more with a neck breaker variation!!!

 

“YEAAHHHH!”

 

The audience explodes as Johnson’s neck could be going through the same type of punishment he has instilled on individual’s arms, legs, head, backs, and just about every other limb that the Ultimate Fighter could annihilate! Looming over his fallen rival with vengeance in his mystical green eyes, Zyon like a shark can smell the blood in the water. And like a shark, the youth will devour Johnson in a brand new strategy that the youth just created due to the circumstances.

 

“Zyon looks like he just found buried treasure or something. Look at him, Mak. He looks a bit off to me.”

 

“King, you could be correct. Then again, Zyon has been able to form a successful strategy by obliterating his opponent’s neck. I figured this would impress you King.”

 

“Nothing from that guy will impress me. Well maybe watching him get dropped on his head, but nothing other than that.”

 

Grabbing Johnson by his perspiration covered head; Zyon flings Johnson into the opposite ropes with an Irish whip. Gambling his control of the match, Zyon takes a quick step back, allowing Johnson to possibly regain his composure. Bouncing off the ropes, Johnson comes sprinting back toward the youth with a chance to grasp control of the match. A chance that is quickly thrown to the wayside as the Unique Youth intelligently drops Johnson throat first across the middle rope with a drop toehold.

 

He continues to stay low.

 

With the city of Seoul up in arms with this awkward turn of events, they watch with a smile across their face as Zyon rebounds off the far ropes, and with an extra spring in his step, leaps high into the air. Choking on his trachea that was just hung across the middle rope, Johnson pushes himself out from the middle rope…BUT HE’S TOO LATE! Zyon crushes him with a heinous knee to the back of the neck, which sends Johnson’s throat crashing into the middle rope once again! Attempting to breathe properly, Johnson is overcome by the wheezing that exits rather than a clear exhale. He’s also overcome by the Unique Youth who steps out to the ring apron, dragging Johnson’s head through the middle rope. Exposing his rival’s neck to his newfound aggressiveness not seen since his war with Hollywood Spike Jenkins at Battleground, Zyon swiftly leaps on to the middle turnbuckle as all of the witnesses (Fans) jump to their feet. Refusing to give his conscience enough time to talk him out of this violent act, Zyon leaps off the middle rope, driving his leg across Johnson’s exposed neck with a second rope guillotine leg drop that sends Johnson spasming back in the ring!!!

 

“What a ruthless attack by Zyon!”

 

“That right Mak, call the good guy out. It’s about time.”

 

“Actually King, I was going to compliment him on the high risk maneuver. You see, I think Zyon has realized what he has to do to Johnson. He has to fight fire with fire. Johnson has always used his anger to devastate his opponent’s with brutal submissions and nasty suplexes. And two, Zyon was smart enough to remain perched on the second rope than ascend another level. Hitting that move from the second rope is much less painful than doing it from the top rope.”

 

“You got all of that out of those last ten seconds of action…well it’s good to know that you have a life…or not.”

 

Clutching his neck inside the ring, Johnson begins to punch the canvas, which isn’t exactly the most yoga way to block out the pain, but hey whatever floats your boat I guess. Marching back into the ring, Zyon hoists Johnson into a front face lock where he immediately struggles to get free. The youth will have none of it though, and with an effortless twist of his hips, Zyon drives his rival neck first into the canvas with a swinging neck breaker!! Rolling under the bottom ropes while his opponent continues to tend to his wounded neck, Zyon latches on to the top rope, launching himself through the environment with a springboard 450 splash that crushes his rival.

 

“Beautiful Dawn 450 splash by Zyon!” Mak with the quick call.

 

Remaining on top of the shell shocked Ultimate Fighter; Zyon hooks the leg as referee Ken Masters drops for the count…

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THKICKOUT!

 

Popping his shoulder off the canvas, Johnson is helped back to his feet by his “best buddy.” Like all “best buddies” Zyon drives the injured Canadian back with a European uppercut! Rebounding off the ropes, Johnson shows signs of life as he absolutely DECKS Zyon with an elbow to the cheek! Scattering away from the Unique Youth, Johnson exits to the outside where he hastily ascends the top turnbuckle. Awake from his minor slumber, Zyon chases up after the Ultimate Fighter, clubbing him in the back of the neck…to which Johnson responds with a mighty shove! Perching himself on the top rope with equal balance as most cruiserweights, Johnson dives on to the standing youth, hooking his arm around Zyon’s head, snapping him to the mat with a flying neck breaker drop!!!

 

“YEAHHHHH!”

 

The crowd comes alive for the rare JJ Johnson acrobatic stunt as the Canadian covers the Unique Youth while clutching his neck.

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THRKICKOUT!

 

“Weak cover by Johnson. I think he was favoring his neck a bit too much for that cover to keep the energetic Zyon down.”

 

“Hard to be energetic after having the air knocked out from you.” King makes a good point.

 

With the crowd evenly cheering both individuals, Johnson rises back to his feet as the Patron Wrestler of Athens does the same. Looking to continue his aggressive nature, Zyon lowers himself once again as he dives in for a double-legged takedown…on a fucking former UFC fighter.

 

We should know how this is going to end.

 

*CRACK*

 

Lobbing the youth’s head into the Namdaemun Gate with an incredible kick to the face, Johnson swiftly maneuvers himself around the stunned youth, trapping him in a hammerlock. Bewildered by Johnson’s ability to sway away from another punishing strike, Zyon struggles to break free of the standard transition hold.

 

“HA! Now you see why I never counted JJ out. While Zyon looked to have picked up some technical skills, it was really all a sham. Anyone could look like a technician when they are dominating the match, but now that Johnson is in control…it’s only a matter of time.” King expresses his discontent for the Unique Youth.

 

Finished playing a game of “Watch this little punk struggle with the simplest of holds” Johnson drops on to his back, transitioning the hammerlock into a Wing Span crossface chicken wing!

 

“YEAHHHHH!”

 

The crowd erupts as Johnson reaches into his dead pool of submission, busting out a maneuver he learned during his training with Jay Hawke and Landon Maddix. Unlike Hawke, Johnson has yet to master the submission, but he does know one thing…it hurts.

 

“Please Don’t TAP!”

 

The crowd chants as Zyon tries to inch his foot closer to the ropes. Using his free hand to claw his way toward the refuge in the ropes, the youth’s vision begins to blur a bit. Shaking the dream of unconsciousness away, Zyon reaches out for the ropes as the Ultimate Fighter releases the submission altogether. Stomping at the youth’s shoulder, Johnson seems to have finally found a plan that could work in his favor. Lifting the youth back to his feet, Johnson tweaks Zyon’s arm as he sets up a short arm SHOTGUN LARIAT!!!!

 

….

 

….

 

THAT MISSES AGAIN!!! Saving himself once again from certain decapitation, Zyon shoots behind the Ultimate Fighter, hooking him in a reverse front face lock. Extending his knee, Zyon falls to the canvas, spiking Johnson neck first across his extended knee as he takes back the momentum that was stolen from him. Shouting into the nether, the intense Johnson remains in a sitting position, trying to rub the PAIN out of his neck. Bouncing off the far ropes, Zyon picks up an amazing amount of speed before leaping into the air, and driving both feet into his rival’s neck with a hesitation dropkick!! Pinning Johnson’s shoulders to the mat, Zyon goes for the cover.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

THREKICKOUT!!!

 

Thrusting his shoulder off the mat, Johnson rises back from the dead to a sitting position where Zyon aggressively drops a knee into the former cruiserweights neck! Visually the Canadian looks the worse he has looked in a long time. He’s battled monster like Janus and TORU. He’s fought the best in Landon Maddix and El Luchadore Magnifico. But tonight it’s quite possible that he came into the match believing he would brawl with a spot monkey. Instead he got a warrior that was determined to deliver the Canadian’s just desserts. Hoisting Johnson back to his feet, Zyon Irish whips the former International Champion across the ring. Rebounding off the ropes, Johnson leapfrogs the lowered youth, much to Zyon’s dismay. Turning back to face Johnson who picks up even more speed as he bounces off the ropes, Zyon’s eyes grow and his muscles twitch as he realizes that he’s screwed. Leaving the ground once again, Triple J hurls himself at the Cruiserweight Champion, stomping him out of existence with a momentum changing YAKUZA KICK!!!

 

“YYYYYEAHAHAHAHH!!!”

 

“Both men have fought a smart battle, which each man refusing to give in. This is awesome!” Mak shouts from his stationary wheel chair.

 

His eyes rolling around in the back of his head like pinballs, Zyon does what he can to get a grip on the situation at hand. He’s controlled the action, strayed away from his suicidal spotty offense, and even worked out a strategy that for all intents and purposes was perfect.

 

Was…

 

Pushing himself back to his feet as his radical rival does the same, Johnson continues to rub his damaged neck as he moves in for the kill. Stomping the Unique Youth in the sternum, Johnson holds him prisoner with a standing head scissor. Lifting with his legs like they teach you to, Johnson lifts Zyon for his Kawada style power bomb…FOOL! The youth though hates those things so he counters magnificently with a hurricarana that Johnson stops midway. Ignoring one of his rival’s legs, Johnson hooks the Unique Youth with a brilliant single legged crab, swaying away from his other target…his rival’s shoulder. Inching his foot closer to the youth’s head, Johnson accidentally gets the crowd behind him with every inch a shuffles before finally…

 

“YEEEEEAAAAHHHH!”

 

…He steps on the youth’s head. Pulling back on the hold while crushing the Cruiserweight Champion’s head, Triple J looks to have tapped into that anger that carries him through the matches that force him to overexert himself. Referee Ken Masters practically begs Zyon to give up as he can slowly hear the youth’s skull give in to the Canadian's weight. Just as it seems the Unique Youth may leave with a ruptured cranium, Johnson releases the hold, immediately transitioning to a fujiwara arm bar!!!

 

“He’s got him. It’s over Mak! Johnson used the single legged crab to tire the youth out, and easily went into the fujiwara. All he has to do his press all his weight down on Zyon’s arm, and it’s over baby.”

 

“That may be so King, but you must remember. Johnson has taken a beating himself. His neck must be aching and he’s probably quite fatigued.”

 

“You always spoil my fun. I hate you.” King deadpans.

 

The Franchise’s prediction begins to garden into fruitation as Johnson struggles to finish his long time rival off. No matter what memories he digs up for motivation, Johnson is unable to snap the youth’s arm in half. Shattering through his own fatigue, Zyon uses his free hand to pull himself toward the ropes. Grinding it out, the youth some how drapes his foot over the bottom rope. Ken Masters doesn’t even get the chance to order Johnson to break the hold as the Canadian immediately releases the youth. Shaking the hurt out of his arm, Zyon is at the mercy of Johnson’s anger as the Ultimate Fighter lifts the youngster back to his feet. Proving to be merciless, Johnson hoists the youth over his shoulder for the OH FUCK…ADF II!!!!! Kicking his feet rapidly while the streets of Seoul pray from the Unique Youth, Zyon slides down Johnson’s back, applying a reverse front face lock that he spins into the WICKED CUTTER!!!!

 

*BANG!!!!!*

 

ONEEEEEE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOO!!!

 

“This beat him before!!!!” Mak is able to chime in.

 

THRRRRRREEEEEENOOOOOOOO!

 

“YESSSS! He kicked out. Oh my god that was too close.”

 

Zyon can’t deny the disappointment in his facial expressions as he sloppily lifts Johnson into a front face lock. Suddenly, the Ultimate Fighter’s muscles tense as he hoists the Unique Youth up for a northern lights suplex. With Zyon at the peak of the suplex, Johnson begins to struggles allowing the youth to drop back down to his feet, spiking Johnson into the mat with a NASTY DDT!!!

 

“Did you see his neck, King?”

 

“YEAH IT WAS THE MOST FUCKED UP THING EVER!!!”

 

“King you’re a bit emotional.

 

“No I’m just giving the type of over hyped answer you want. Since you ask me all the time if I see something or not you pathetic cripple.”

 

Rolling on to the incompaciated Ultimate Fighter, Zyon bobs his head to the count…

 

ONEEEEE!

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOO!!

 

 

 

THREEEENOPPPPPEEEE!!!

 

Staring a hole in the referee, Zyon swears that was three. Cursing like a banshee, the youth helps his rival back to his feet, planting him in the face with a wicked forearm to the face. Holding his opponent in check with another front face lock, Zyon leaps into the air, applying a body scissors as he takes Johnson to the canvas.

 

“Look he’s pretending again. Zyon is the new Matt Myers!!” The Gambling Man shouts hysterically.

 

Cranking on his rival’s neck, Zyon hopes to end this battle with an unheard of JJ Johnson tap out. The UFC specialist reverts back to his early career as he spreads his legs far out, and lifts himself to a standing doubled over position. With a grunt, Zyon evolves the body scissor sleeper into a triangle choke by grappling his opponent’s arm and trapping it in a web of despair. It would certainly be game over for the Ultimate Fighter if he hasn’t been in this position about a thousand times, and each time he breaks free the same way. This isn’t Alcatraz. This is a spot monkey attempting MMA. Lifting with his legs, eliciting a loud roar from the city of Seoul, Johnson has the Unique Youth at the peak for the power bomb…FOOL!

 

“What strength! What heart! This man is phenomenal!” Mak marks out better than the UFC announcers did for Matt Hughes.

 

Zyon refuses to let his rival steal the spotlight as he releases the choke, extending his legs back to the canvas with Johnson’s arm still in his clutches. Standing on his feet, Zyon looks his rival right square in the eye…

 

…As he unleashes DOOM on to the Canadian as he takes him to the canvas with the GOUKI CROSSFACE!!!!!!

 

“GASP!!!!”

 

The hyper audience rocks it’s very own foundation as Zyon reels back on the submission. All the neck work has added up over time, and now the youth looks to finish the equation as he pulls back on Johnson’s neck. Bobbing his head, moving his long hair out of his fiery eyes, Zyon continues to bring Johnson the pain he’s brought to so many. The youth isn’t a messiah or savior, but he is a pissed off individual that’s been dropped on his head and tortured by the honorable Canadian. Johnson’s hand waivers over the canvas as his struggle isn’t so much a struggle as it is a twitch. Feeling the Ultimate Fighter collapse in his hands, the youth can’t help but smile…

 

…A smile that hides behind having your soul crushed by the resilient Canadian who uses his knowledge of everything to ROLL THROUGH THE CROSSFACE!!!!

 

“YEAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

 

The audience explodes while King and Mak are caught up in this desperate fight for survival as Zyon rolls through the pin attempt, placing Johnson back in the crossface!!!! Now the cold Canadian begins to shake. He begins to rattle. And as his neck begins to tear and he stares Mak in the eyes…and in the neck brace. The impenetrable warrior has to make a decision. The same decision that the Divine Wind made. The hand no longer waivers on the canvas as it smacks the canvas…

 

TAPNOOOOOOOO!

 

He’s not Mak. He’s not Akira Kaibatsu. He’s JJ fucking Johnson. Palming the canvas, Johnson scoots himself closer to the ropes, draping his free arm across the bottom rope, FORCING ZYON TO BREAK THE HOLD!!!!!

 

“YEEEEAAAAHHHH!!!”

 

“HE DID IT!” Now King marks out unable to hide his excitement.

 

Everyone is up in arms as the great match continues…well everyone, but the Unique Youth who looks like he’s the one that’s finished. Back peddling away from the notorious angry Canadian citizen, Zyon is shocked by Johnson’s ability to withstand that type of punishment. Sweating like a mad man, the youth slowly stalks his prey. Johnson refuses to play dead as he pushes himself back to his feet much to the youth’s dismay. Shaking his head, Johnson arrogantly cracks his neck in front of the frightened youth!

 

“YEEEAAAHHH!”

 

Can we say badass? Latching on to the youth’s trembling arm, Johnson Irish whips Zyon across the ring…or that was the plan anyway. Pivoting his foot, the youth switches the roles as he sends the Ultimate Fighter toward the turnbuckle. Expecting the standard Canadian chest bump into the turnbuckle, Zyon foolishly charges in after the Ontario native. Reaching into his secret stash of flash, Johnson runs up the ropes, flipping behind the youth with a Dragon Flip! Locking his hands behind the youth, Johnson sets up for the Dangerous German as the scared youth holds on to the top rope for dear life. While embracing the top rope, Zyon remembers whom he is facing.

 

JJ Johnson = Elbows

 

*CRACK!*

 

Blasting Johnson with an elbow, Zyon forgets his fear of facing the Canadian. He is human after all. Ascending the top rope with his back to the Ultimate Fighter, Zyon prepares himself for flight. All stations are go, but he is not allowed to take off. Oh yeah, he’s missing his wings and the instruction manual. First page…

 

…Don’t turn your back to JJ Johnson!

 

Joining the youth on the top rope, Johnson gives the youth his wings as he applies a full nelson…awwwwwwwww shit! Korea explodes due to the continuity between the two as Johnson with a visual smirk prepares to kill Zyon.

 

“Johnson’s gonna kill you…”

 

The fans chant. A chant that’s hasn’t been heard since Triple J’s outing with ELM. However, it couldn’t be truer. Yet the times have changed and Zyon realizes that it’s go big or die. Leaping off the top rope under his own power, Zyon smashes his ass across the ring apron as the top rope decimates Johnson’s throat!!!!

 

“Amazing counter by the youth!!!”

 

Backing away from the ropes as he turns his back to the Unique Youth who cares to his tailbone, Johnson clutches his damaged throat. Lifting himself on to the ring apron, Zyon prepares for flight, and readies to add another chapter in his story titled…

 

…Don’t turn your back on Zyon!

 

Springing off the top rope the youth sets up for his superman springboard forearm smash from HELL, but Johnson is all “Ok…and now you die.” Twitching at the notion of obliterating the youth, Johnson spins around to meet the courageous Cruiserweight Champion with an OK NOW YOU’VE PISSED ME OFF WELCOME TO MY NIGHTMARE TO THE WEST OF DEATH’S DOOR IN THE SOUTHEAST SECTION OF OBLIVION WHERE I WILL BURY YOUR ASHES FROM THIS OVERLY DESCRIPTIVE RUN ON SENTENCE THAT HELPS PUT JJ VS VA’AIGA AT THE PPV OVER IN A BIG WAY MURDER DEATH KILL YOU’VE FUCKED UP NOW MOTHERFUCKER SHOTGUN LARIATOOOOOOOOOOO ~ that sends the youth’s legs collapsing over his shoulders from the impact!

 

“OH…MY…GOD!!”

 

Johnson weakly falls on to the motionless Unique Youth…

 

ONEEEEEEEEE!!!!

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOO!!!

 

Place your bets…

 

…

 

…

 

THREEEEEEEENOOOOOO!!!

 

With a mighty twitch, Zyon tosses his shoulder off the mat as JJ Johnson looks about ready to implode. Staring at his half dead rival, Johnson wonders over toward the ropes, and heads up top once again. The fans surrounding the ring rise to their feet as Johnson prepares for his fatal knee attack known as the Damage Done!! Fighting through the pain in his neck, Johnson wishes he could ice up and go home to rest up for his big duel at the PPV with the Maori Badass.

 

But fucking Smarkdown needed their ratings.

 

And by god they’re going to get them.

 

Pushing himself off the canvas, Zyon’s vision is all but static as he tries to focus in on the figure struggling to reach the top rope. His head pounding from so many causes ranging from the recent lariat to the memories of the SUPER DRAGON SUPLEX that scrambled his brains many months ago. Through the smog that accompanies his daze, Zyon can finally see a weakness in his Ultimate rival.

 

It’s clear as the night’s sky.

 

Lumbering over to the top rope, Zyon sprints up the ropes, blasting the wobbly Canadian with a wicked elbow to the face.

 

*CRACK!*

 

Johnson takes the elbow like a champ, like a natural born fighter. And like a natural born fighter, he’s willing to take on all challenges, including his latest daunting task. His muscles temporarily quit on him as Zyon grasps for one last burst of youth energy as he traps Triple J in a front face lock. Hoisting the Ultimate Fighter vertically, Zyon gracefully leaps backward, impaling Johnson’s head into the canvas with an AVALANCHE BRAIN BUSTER!!!!!

 

He loves the challenge. Let’s see him get out of this one.

 

Seoul is under the control of rabid fans who scream their head off after watching the Ultimate Fighter go limp due to the SICK angle his neck was spiked into the mat. Zyon finds his final burst of nitro to drape his arm over his rival’s chest…

 

ONEEEEEE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOO!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEE!!!!!

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

“It’s over…”

 

“King you have a right to be exhausted, but don’t feel bad for the Ultimate Fighter. He’s made a living dropping people on their heads. Karma has just decided to choose this time to pay him back. Now he’s going into 13th Hour clear of all of his sins as he takes on the Maori Badass.” Mak goes all sentimental as Johnson is knocked out cold.

 

“The winner…the UNIQUE YOUTH…ZYYYOON!!!”

 

Funyon bellows, as Zyon sure doesn’t look like a winner. He looks like a man that won the battle, but deep down knows the war isn’t over. Sure it’s poetic justice to stop his rival with the ultimate of head drops, but it’s JJ Johnson. He’s been knocked out before. He’ll be knocked out again. And he comes back stronger each time. Zyon rolls out of the ring, dragging his cruiserweight title up the aisle as he takes one last look at his rival.

 

The rival that forced him to submit.

 

The rival that forced his shoulders down for three seconds.

 

The rival that knocked him out.

 

The rival that lies motionless in the ring.

 

The man that helps him put on great matches every time they wage war against one another.

 

Oh yeah…it’s not over. Not by a long shot.

 

Fade.

Edited June 7, 2006 by chirs3

[chirs3 0]

The excited crowd outside the Namdaemun Gate is slowly dying down, but it's tough after such an exhilarating match between JJ Johnson and Zyon. However, the people milling around the exits freeze, in fact, everyone freezes as blindingly bright floodlights snap on around the Namdaemun Gate.

 

"What's going on? I didn't think anything was scheduled for after the main event," Mak Francis mumbles.

 

"Nothing usually is set up for after the main event, which is why it's called the main event, you doofus," the Suicide King snaps back.

 

Fans rush back to seats, regardless of whether or not they sat at them during the show. Minor scuffles occur, but the highly trained SWF security staff quickly put them to rest. The lights illuminate the Gate and surrounding lawn, and just when things couldn't get any brighter, a door opens in the gate and standard home-wattage light spills out. A shadowy figure walks down the path, and is soon revealed.

 

"That's....why, that's Outcast! He hasn't been seen in the Smarks Wrestling Federation in quite some time. Could he, too, be another name on a growing list of returning superstars?" Francis wonders.

 

"Maybe he'll join up with Tom Flesher and Charlie Matthews," King speculates.

 

As if on cue, Outcast pulls out a microphone from his back pocket.

 

"Ahem," Tyler McClelland begins, causing a hush to fall over the audience. "I'll be brief with this, which must come as a shock to you all, as I'm known as one of the more verbose and loquacious men in the history of this fine federation. So, to be blunt, something I've rarely been throughout my very illustrious career, and why should I have been? I was, hell, I am a great wrestler and entertainer, so why not talk a bit? I deserve that right, I think. I helped carry this federation on my back for some time, but do I get the recognition? No, I'm always over looked and forgotten."

 

Sensing a rant, the fans begin to boo and make noise, hoping to get Outcast back on track.

 

"How dare you! How dare you people boo me!" Outcast screams. "However, I do realize I did get a bit off-track there. Where was I? Oh yes, something I must say, very briefly, but of great importance. GET OFF MY LAWN!"

 

With that, Outcast drops the microphone and heads back to the Namdaemun Gate as Smarkdown fades to black.